Standard disclaimer applies.

This was written for Phorcys for the KKM Christmas Livejournal challenge.

Customary for the Groom
By Reiven

Gwendal Von Voltaire was known through out the lands as a calm, calculative and patient man. He rarely lost his temper nor did he show anything remotely akin to emotions (which he had deemed inappropriate for someone of his stature) and while his passive face surveyed the surroundings with hawk-eyes efficiency, his sharp mind began thinking up ways for him to turn around the core of the situation to add to his advantage, but as of this moment--he timed it at quarter to afternoon--he'd come to the untimely conclusion that even though his never say die belief shouted at him in the back of his mind and, once upon a time ago, he'd been someone who'd die before he turned away from the challenge; this dire situation at hand was something he could no longer handle with a reasonable thought;

Shibuya Yuuri, twenty-seventh Maou of Shin Makoku was a lost cause.

"Right foot, Heika. My left is your right," Gwendal nearly shouted but managed to control himself.

"Ah, sorry," came the sheepish reply to which he just sighed, letting go of Yuuri's waist and letting the hand he'd been clasping fall back to the Maou's side.

"Take a break," Gwendal muttered out, turning his back to the sheepishly grinning teen and wobbled over to his desk before taking seat; one leg thrown over the other as he attempted to massage feeling back to his suffering foot.

Yuuri approached the eldest brother of his fiancé with caution. "I really am sorry, Gwendal. But I told you I have two left feet."

And two left arms, Gwendal though bitterly, looking at the youth through dark bangs then at the broken pieces of crockery near the large table that stood in the middle of the meeting room.

He'd been attempting to educate the young man about the wedding customs of Shin Makoku in preparation for his engagement ceremony (keyword being attempt. Though the more appropriate use of words but would be 'attempting but failing'), but it had all ended in disaster. Perhaps it would have been a wiser decision to have let his majesty learn the traditions with Gunter.

Gwendal scoffed inwardly as the thought flickered through his mind. Gunter educating his majesty about what is required during this right-of-passage ceremony? He had to be daft to even consider it. For one thing, the country would have either been less one Maou had Yuuri been scared back to earth by Gunter's affections, or it would have been less one political advisor had it been because of Gunter's own doing, or by the hands of a jealous Wolfram. Speaking of his youngest half-brother, he remembered why he was the one currently stuck in the rut of a job.

Wolfram, for one thing, would never in his right mind have agreed to Yuuri being tutored by a woman. He did not trust Conrad being alone with Yuuri but to a far lesser extent than he would have Gunter. His mother was completely out of the question, so was Anissina (whom Wolfram feared would have subjected his fiancé to another of her mad inventions) and in the fray, that left Gwendal; the eldest brother, wise, stoic and--as far as the rumours went about the castle--the asexual one.

He was anything but asexual, Gwendal thought bitterly, eyes drawn to the small blue dolphin keychain hanging from his sword; the trinket Yuuri had given to him sometime ago.

"Gwendal?" Yuuri called out softly, looking up at the faraway look in the noble's eyes from where he was bent over, chin resting on the arms that were crossed over the table.

The mazoku was too caught up in his thoughts by this time and hadn't heard his name being called.

He'd woken up in high spirits this morning; bade inu-chan, buta-chan and saru-chan a good morning and went on his way expecting that he'd have the Maou whipped into well-tuned, well-groomed dancing machine by lunchtime. Instead, the only thing he'd ended up with was broken plates, dented cutlery, mutilated dolls, a sore foot and one still clueless, still unrefined teenager.

As the first order of business, he'd tried to teach him proper eating etiquettes and to not drop his fork or knife in the presence of visiting nobles (might they take the action as a challenge), so naturally, he ended up dropping everything but the table cloth to the ground. He then attempted (keyword being 'attempted') to enlighten him to the proper mannerism in which to hold himself especially during conversations, having his doll collection as an audience. Yuuri had managed to drop all of them to the ground including one of the bookshelves (Gwendal was still clueless as to how he'd managed the feat) and ended up setting his beloved tanuki-chan on fire.

He should have taken that as a sign though.

Then came the actual protocol involved with the ritual; for this he'd taken the Maou down to the sacred temple and wished to Shinou that Ulrike would be able to assist him in sprucing up the king. To make a long story short, he almost flooded the entire temple and sent half the population of maidens running for the hills. Though Yuuri had never been someone of great pride and sophistication as he, he'd never remembered his majesty as being quite this awkward.

"Gweeeeendaaaaal?" Yuuri called out, a tinge of annoyance lacing his words as he was once again ignored. He wondered briefly whether Gwendal had gone into temporary hibernation. Looking the mazoku up and down, left and right, he pushed aside one of the long bangs that half shielded his eyes from view and looked straight into his face.

His eyes were closed, lips thinned (in what Yuuri perceived as deep concentration); the straight and narrow nose, the powerful jaw line and high cheeks bones of someone who could not have been a commoner if he tried.

Yuuri had more than on one occasion wondered as he gazed intently at the three very different faces of the royal sibling, trying to find something that related them in looks. His attempts failed every time. But today, at this very moment, looking unperturbed at the serene Gwendal from his position on his hands and knees on the table, one arm reached out to keep the wayward fringe from blocking his view, Yuuri decided that he could see it. It wasn't anything obvious, like one of those usual motherly comments about the child having her nose or chin, in his opinion, Yuuri thought that only Wolfram looked like his mother.

But looking Gwendal straight in the face like this, the calmness his aura emitted, Yuuri could see Conrad in him and the way his peace seemed to hide a deeper, much intense fire in his soul, like Wolfram. But unlike the two brothers, who wore their personalities on the outside, Gwendal kept his buried deep down. Yuuri had always thought that quality was endearing in the elder mazoku. Though the black-haired teen assumed Gwendal to be in his late hundreds, seeing as Wolfram was around eighty and appeared like a fifteen-year old human. Gwendal looked much older and mature, older than Conrad (who looked about the age of Shori) but not nearly as old as his father or--he thought with a mental cringe--Bob. Gwendal was probably somewhere in between.

Yuuri found his eyes trailing to the lidded eyes and the age lines that adorned his face; he couldn't help but think that it looked wrong, something that didn't belong on the eternal beauty possessed by the mazoku. He didn't even dare to imagine a prospect of Wolfram developing wrinkles; the blonde boy, though Yuuri'd chew off his own tongue before he admitted it, was the embodiment of beauty, even for a guy. Though Yuuri had countless times tried to defend himself by saying that a relationship between two guys was sinful on earth (though people paid no mind to it) he never denied that had Wolfram been born on earth, he would have been the centre of affection of males and females alike. And the truth be told, Yuuri had developed a certain fondness for the young prince; though at the moment it may not be the kind of fondness everyone expected between two people engaged, who's to say that it would not develop somewhere in the future. The ceremony had excited Greta immensely as well, and that was one of the reasons why Yuuri could never call it off, for Greta and Wolfram's sake.

But returning to the matter at hand, Yuuri realized when the thought of Wolfram led to the prospect of him getting mauled by the mazoku's bare hands if he messed up the proceedings in any way.

"Gwendal!" he called in a much firmer tone, lightly shaking the still comatose mazoku. "Gwendal--it's Anissina!" he yelled out frantically in a moment of sheer brilliance that ended up not to brilliant when the lidded eyes flew open and Gwendal nearly shot out of his seat. He would have succeeded though, had it not been for Yuuri's offending lips blocking his path.

Stunned by the current turn of events, neither one moved from they spot; lips still locked in a shocked and stony kiss that would have caused annihilation far greater than the Forbidden Boxes could ever have caused had it been witnessed by the aforementioned Wolfram.

The thought of what Wolfram could and would do to them (Gwendal included) made them come about their wits and they pulled apart faster than Gunter at his majesty's' calling.

"Gwend--I...I...I," Yuuri stuttered out, blushing red as he quickly looked away. Gwendal found himself doing the same, but at the cost of coming off as a stuttering fool as Yuuri was making himself out to be, Gwendal merely huffed and attempted to force back the fluttering feeling in the pit out his stomach. This was his first kiss, in a way. More specifically, this was his first kiss that didn't make him feel like running for the hills. But in actuality his first kiss had been with Anissina when they were barely sixty-five and she'd wanted to test out just how powerful her man-dominating lipstick (appropriately labelled 'man-dominating-lipstick-kun') was. And may Shinou be damned, it was powerful. Gwendal still had nightmares about that till this day.

"Gwendal? Are you okay?"

He turned around at the sound of Yuuri's concerned voice.

"You're acting a bit strange. Are you sick? Coming down with something? Maybe we should stop for the day. I can get Gisela--"

"I'm fine," he replied quickly, cutting of Yuuri's near-frantic muttering and massaging the bridge of his nose.

"I knew it. Do you have a headache? Because my mother has this remedy that will cure headache--"

Gwendal had the sudden vision of Anissina conspiring with Yuuri's mother and a chill ran up his spine. "I assure you, Heika."

"Okay…well. What do we do now? Because in case you haven't noticed, I'm really, really, really bad at this. And yes, I know what future awaits me if I do anything to screw up this ceremony. I expect it to come in the form of Wolfram and being damned to an eternity of suffering in the pits of hell begging for forgiveness," Yuuri swallowed. He heard a peculiar sound coming from in front of him and looked up at the eldest of the brothers, only to find him chuckling. He raised an eyebrow at the uncharacteristic response.

After a moment, Gwendal managed to regain his bearing, any trace of laughter gone from his face and he looked seriously at Yuuri; startling the Maou at the rapid change in mood.

"Heika?" he began, leaning back into the chair. "What may I ask are you doing on my table?"

Yuuri looked at him and at the now crumpled and messed up stacks of paperwork that lay scattered over the table, some beneath him backside. "Aaah...sorry."

"Forget it," Gwendal took a deep breath, his attention looking at the oblivious young Maou who was attempting to regain some order regarding the papers. "I will send for some tea and confectionaries," he said simply and stood up, walking to the door to call on one of the guards, giving Yuuri no time to answer. He returned to his seat soon after.

An uncomfortable silence hung between them.

Yuuri wracked his brain for something to break the silence. "Nice day isn't it?" he asked lamely, mentally smacking himself.

"Depends on your definition," it seemed that Gwendal had returned to his customary thoughts, eyes closed and hands clasped in front of him.

"Why do you do that?" Yuuri asked suddenly and without though. "Closing your eyes when you're in deep thought like that?"

Gwendal cracked open an eye and looked at the innocent youth, though it wasn't out of annoyance, more out of contemplation for the answer. "It clears my head," he said, leaving out the part about it being developed as a defence mechanism whenever Anissina thought it best to jump him with another of her crazy inventions. Anissina may be mad and domineering, but she knew better than to forcefully wake someone in deep sleep. There was a folklore in the lands about waking someone from a deep slumber would lead his soul on a stray road. Gwendal wasn't sure whether she believed that, but if it kept her out of his hair for at least an hour a day, then by all means.

"Oh. I've seen Conrad do it sometimes," Yuuri thought aloud. "And though I don't really think Wolfram has any deep thoughts, seeing as he finds it fit to voice them aloud, he does that too…but it also could be that he actually fell asleep," he chuckled, thinking about his fiancé's strange sleeping habits. "But out of the three, I think you look best doing it though."

Yuuri's last statement had come as an unexpected reply and Gwendal could only stare at him momentarily. But once the moment was up, he gave a small cough and seemed to be motioning towards the table. Looking around, Yuuri saw that it was only one of the kitchen maids with the snacks.

She gave a small bow, to which Gwendal answered with a curt nod. Yuuri thanked her and she was on her way.

"Yummm! Smells good!" he exclaimed happily as he walked over to the large table, looking at the fine variety of pastries adorning the surface. "Which one do you want, Gwendal?" he asked back to the mazoku who hadn't moved from his spot, picking one of each different cakes and cookies and placing them on a plate.

"I will serve myself."

"Nonsense! I'm already here anyway," he waved it off, tipping the snout of the teapot to let the flowing brown liquid stream into two of the cups.

Gwendal kept his eyes glued to his every movement. Watching as he nearly stumbled over the fold in the carpet while balancing two cups and a plate of mounting pastries with just two hands, but managing to regain his bearing. He grinned sheepishly when he reached.

Never in a million years would have Gwendal expected to be sitting here in this hall, watching as the legendary Maou serve tea to him. He'd had expectations of what kind of person he'd though the Maou to be, and Yuuri had managed to break every single one of them. His kind nature, peaceful outlook, the way he wouldn't hesitate to put his life at risk even for the sake of the people who loathed and despised him, if anything, the twenty-seventh Maou had turned out to be a better person and leader than Gwendal could ever had expected.

"I didn't see any sugar there…you do have sugar here, don't you?"

"Yes, we have sugar. But it is normally prepared along with the tea."

"Oh. Well, where I come from it's normally put separately. You know, some people don't like or can't take sugar, but I should have expected the mazoku to be immune to that kind of illness."

Gwendal didn't answer, sipping his tea curtly and motioning for the king to join him.

"So…" Yuuri began, finishing off his second pasty gleefully, licking the remnants of the icing off his fingers. "This ceremony…it isn't…you know, going to be all that stuffy and strict, right?" he asked, already knowing the answer but trying his luck anyway.

"It will be overseen by the kings of out allied neighbours, the nobles of the land and it is held in the highest regard as one of the most important ceremony one can ever be included in."

"Ah, I figured…"

"And I have no doubt that you will untimely end up doing something to wreck the ritual and bring embarrassment to Wolfram and the great house of Von Bielefeld," he added as a matter of fact, to which Yuuri just whimpered. "But no one present in the court would expect any less. After all, you are who you are," he ended, his tone much kinder than Yuuri had ever heard. He'd even go as far as to say that Gwendal was trying to cheer him up.

"Really?"

"I do not lie."

"No, of course not," Yuuri chuckled nervously, but feeling the burden on his shoulders lightening. Taking a sip of his own tea, he paused before turning to Gwendal. "What about you? Have you ever…you know…had someone special?"

Gwendal raised an eyebrow, sparing him an incredulous look. "I have no time for such trivial matters of the heart."

"But there must have been someone," he pushed on.

"No one."

"What about Anissina?" Yuuri asked innocently.

Gwendal almost choked on his tea. "Why would you say that?" he asked through the tick that had begun beneath his eye.

"You two seem very close," Yuuri muttered, more of a reassurance to himself rather than as a point in his debate.

"She and I are merely acquaintances," he answered shortly and simply. "Nothing more, nothing less."

"Oh, okay. Sorry for jumping to conclusions," Yuuri said, but his mind scoffed. Gwendal was as an acquaintance to Anissina as Conrad was to Julia. Even though he'd never met her, except that one time during the demon mirror incident, he could still feel the tension brimming in the air between the two.

"Should you not worry less about my love life and more about yours?" Gwendal asked, derailing Yuuri's train of thought. "The ceremony is in one week, and if you are not fit for the event, then Wolfram will have your head. At that time, there is nothing Conrad or I can do to prevent it from happening."

"But you said--"

"It does not mean that Wolfram will share the same sentiments as I," he interrupted.

"B-b-but!"

"As his fiancé, I am sure that you are quite aware that Wolfram lives in a world of his own; one which he had set to a certain level of expectation. And if ever that expectation is not met, then…" he trailed off; leaving the sentence hanging though Yuuri would imagine what would have come after it.

"B-but…but then what am I going to do?" he grasped a fist full of hair, tea and pasty left forgotten as he pondered his woeful fate.

"There is still one week left, and during that time, you had better double your efforts, for your sake and the sake of Shin Makoku," Gwendal ended his sentence dramatically, feeling a tug at the side of his lips at Yuuri's frantic outburst. He may be the fearless Maou and revered leader of the Mazoku. If only his enemies could see him now.

Gwendal placed his cup and saucer back down on the table and took to his feet, eyes glancing over at Yuuri who stood facing the wall, one arm held out to prop himself up as he brooded, muttering incoherently. Though the day had turned out sour and he felt his patience being tested to its limit, Gwendal found that he did not mind one single moment of it. Nor will he mind the long, tiring hours to come.

He was happy for Wolfram to have found someone he cared for so deeply, and he was happy that Shin Makoku had attained such a respectful lord. He was happy that those were two people in the same. While clouded by apprehension in the beginning, Gwendal was beginning to see what Conrad and Wolfram did in Yuuri. What Shinou-heika had seen in him when he chose him as Maou. His kindness, compassion and bravery were a quality everyone wishes to be in possession of, but not many could retain.

Perhaps Gwendal had lied when Yuuri asked him if he'd ever had feelings for anyone before, but it didn't matter. The situation was already as perfect as it was. There was no need to make it complicated over matters as trifling as emotions.

"YUUUUURI!"

Wolfram's shout echoes though the room, followed closely by a deafening thud as the door was carelessly swung open and in strode the blonde prince.

"W-W-Wolfram!" Yuuri continued his stuttering tirade, staring almost fearfully at his fiancé.

"We've been waiting for you for ages down in the hall for the fitting," Wolfram glared at him.

"Aaah, has the time passed by so quickly?" he wiped his brow with the back of his sleeve, causing Wolfram to give a growl of disgust.

"You're the king, Yuuri, start acting like one!" he proceeded to grab the black-haired youth by the arm and half dragged him towards the door, before ungraciously throwing him out. He was about to step out but halted, turning on his heels and walking back to where Gwendal hadn't moved from his spot behind the desk, trying but failing to hide the amusement on his face.

Wolfram stopped right in front of him, the firm expression on his face from moments before had dimmed and he only wore a look of serenity as he locked emerald green orbs with his brother. "Thank you for being here, aniue," he muttered almost incoherently, a small smile on his lips.

Gwendal stayed silent, but eventually answered with a shadow of smile of his own. "For my little brother," he said.

"Wolfraaam! You call me, drag me out and now I have to wait for you?"

Wolfram gave a throaty growl, his face contorted back to rage within a nanosecond. "I would have had to come up here if you would have just been on time, wimp!"

"I am not a wimp!"

And with that, the door creaked to a close. Gwendal heard the vague sound of Yuuri and Wolfram's ongoing argument as they walked further away from his door. Taking a deep breath, Gwendal settled himself back onto the chair, wondering just when Blood Pledge castle became a place of such…primitive disorder. The air surrounding the lands was much more peaceful than it had ever been since Shinou-heika's time. Apart from a selected few, the Mazoku and humans were sitting on a more tolerable line. The addition of Greta and Geigen Huber's daughter had contributed to the jovial mood and even the maid girls did not cower whenever he walked past anymore. On the contrary, the rumours of his knitting obsession had somehow made its way around the castle (Gwendal had a suspicious feeling that he knew who was behind it--one reborn Great Sage) and the three girls seemed to have been quite endeared by that. They were also the only three who could correctly identify the animal his dolls were modelled after, therefore Gwendal held no ill feelings against them.

Right now, Gwendal, for the first time in his life, felt an immense sense of peacefulness wash over him. He was never one to treasure petty emotions, but decided at this point that he would not trade whatever feelings he had for the current Maou for anything. It didn't matter that it would never acknowledged or returned, what mattered was that Yuuri and Wolfram were both happy, together.

His bothers, both born in a hard time, laden with loss and suffering; watching as their comrades died before them, unable to do anything to stop the pain. Gwendal was far older than either of them and had more experience in dealing with it; but eventually, they developed it too. They became tough fighters willing to sacrifice themselves for the country. It was only right that they found happiness with the people they loved.

Wolfram with Yuuri and Conrad with Yozak. What a pair those four made, Gwendal thought fondly. He didn't mind that his fate was to forever watch from the sidelines as people rode off into the sunset with their lovers. If his brothers were happy, than that made him happy and at the moment, there was nothing that could disturb the tranquillity that Gwendal had lost himself in.

"Gwendal!"

His eyes snapped open, his heart skipped a beat and his palms became clammy.

If there was ever one thing that would destroy a peaceful moment with such brute force and in such a short time, it was Anissina's shout of excitement calling out for one of her two usual test subjects.

Gwendal's attention snapped to the left and right, looking for a place to hide. He briefly wondered if he dislocated both his arms and legs whether he would be able fit inside one of the cabinets that adorned the great bookshelves.

"Gwendal!"

He heard her shout again, this time coming to the conclusion that there was no pain greater than what he would have to be put through if Anissina got her hands on him, and in a moment blinded by fear, he threw open the window and jumped.

His fall was broken abruptly by stone floors when he landed on the balcony of the room just below the meeting rooms'.

"Kaka?"

Instinctively, he brandished his sword and twirled around, only to have his eyes fall on the bemused form of his cousin.

"Geigen Huber…" he muttered slowly, sheathing his sword and feeling a wave of relief flood over him.

Hube merely raised the brow of his good eyed as he stared at his estranged cousin, whom on closer inspection, seemed far more pale and clammy than his usual brooding self. A thought struck him and he nodded his head in understanding.

"Anissina?" he asked, to which Gwendal answered with a grim nod.

Without another word, he sidestepped the entrance of the door exposing Nicola and Elle whom had been standing at the side when the commotion occurred, motioning for Gwendal to enter.

He obliged without a word. His eyes however, remained on the smiling, chubby face of the babies' and he found himself instantly smitten.

"Would you like to hold her?" Nicola asked with a smile, holding out Elle.

Gwendal hesitated for a moment, before reaching out to pluck her from her mothers' arms, holding her close to his chest. Nicola and Hube shared a smile before she walked back inside to prepare tea.

Gwendal and Hube stood unmoving on the balcony, the silence only disturbed by Elle's laugh as she played with Gwendal's long ponytail. Without a word, Hube walked back inside, his body language silently beckoning Gwendal to follow. With one last glance at the green lands that overlooked Shin Makoku, Gwendal disappeared along with Hube behind the door as it slid to a close; ending one chapter of the book, but leaving an opening for countless others.

Inside, Anissina still continued her search through nooks and crannies. Halfway through her search, she stumbled upon Gunter and joy bubbled up from inside her stomach.

The tranquillity of the castle that day was only broken by the sound of Günter's scream as he was dragged into the dark, dreary pits of hell; also known as Anissina's Laboratory-of-doom-kun.

…End.