A/N: Came up with this while talking to Are one day. We were discussing how desperate Wolfram seemed to be (psychological analyisis and all that) and she wondered whether he'd take the chance to become a woman, should he be given it. Et voila, the story is born.
I'd Do Anything For You
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I'd do anything
For you, dear, anything,
For you mean everything to me.
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Wolfram was far, far away. Far from his troubles, and far from Yuuri. Why? He needed time to think, to cry, and, if he was perfectly honest with himself, to hide. He'd left Blood Pledge Castle before dawn, taking only a few weeks' worth of supplies and his horse with him. By the time he'd felt that he'd gone far enough, his horse was exhausted, but a small town was nearby. He'd swathed himself in a beige-colored cloak, hiding his hair and eyes and trying to be a nonentity, which was rather hard, considering that for most of his life he'd tried to get people to notice him.
Slinking into town, he made a beeline for the first inn he saw, stabled his horse, went in, and requested a room for the next two weeks. The innkeeper raised an eyebrow at his guest's attire, but was stopped from saying anything by the generous payment Wolfram threw to him, as well as the fact that he really did not have any other customers. Wolfram then swept up the stairs with his saddlebags to what would be his room for the next two weeks.
He shut the door and tossed his saddlebags on the floor, then flopped onto the bed facedown, exhaustion catching up to him. Groaning with the need to sink gently into the realm of sleep, he buried his face in the pillow, rethinking what had caused him to flee the castle with such speed. It had started out as one of his usual accusations of infidelity (which, he privately admitted to himself, were usually unjustified, but could he help it if he was especially suited to his element?) but had quickly escalated into a shouting match that was so loud that it had, Wolfram was sure, probably been heard on Earth. Hurt, angry, and just a little sheepish (it had been a little girl after all, but how was he to know? He'd only heard a female voice with Yuuri, and that had been enough for him), Wolfram had shut himself up in his room, ignoring the various well-meaning people who'd knocked on his door to inquire how he was faring. He'd stayed there until he was absolutely sure that everyone in the castle besides the guards was asleep, then started making the neccessary preparations for his departure. It had not at all been hard. He'd only gotten caught once, while padding quietly back to his room from his journey to the pantry for food, and that had been by one of his subordinates, who'd paled once he recognized the man he'd so rudely ordered to stop as his superior officer. Wolfram had reassured him, speaking over the soldier's stuttering apologies, that there was no harm done, and really, good job Ludwig, it's nice to see that you're doing your job properly, then left the relieved man behind him as he strode back to his room to pack what he'd taken, then climbed out the window to the stables and left his home.
Wolfram scowled. It had been a spur of the moment decision, and, now that he was thinking it through, was extremely stupid. He supposed that he'd have to send a message to his brothers; something about too much stress and taking a break might do. They would understand what he meant. He would write a letter to Greta too, and send her a present with it. Despite his disdain for humans, he'd grown very fond of Greta. Wolfram had always loved children, and she happened to be a child: capable of giving unconditional, adoring love and affection who'd appeared right when he'd needed someone like that most. He nodded to himself, satisfied. Now that he'd settled everything that had been immediately bothering him, he felt more energized. Pushing himself off of the bed with his forearms, he stared blankly at the wall for a few minutes, wondering what there was in this town to do to amuse himself before deciding that he didn't really care: he'd just go and stroll around, in essence, to go sightseeing. However, he first had to make some changes to his appearance.
Wolfram walked over to where he'd thrown his saddlebags and neatly unpacked his things, setting them up in the small cabinet as he liked, then dressed in a low-collared light cotton shirt of a stunning shade of green and wide-legged breeches in beige, and got a washcloth and his face-paint bag. Then he strode over to the small vanity table and wet the washcloth in the steel basin provided, cleaning himself off with the towel. After ascertaining that his skin was clean-or, at least, as clean as could be expected- he reached into the pouch that contained the materials he usually used in espionage assignments and drew out his face paint and hair dye. His looks were much too noticeable without them, and the coloring agents might not conceal them but could at least alter his appearance so that he didn't have to worry about someone recognizing him by hair color and complexion. (Mere makeup might not have worked for anyone else, but he'd been trained by Cheri from years of being her dress-up doll, and had he lived on Earth, could probably have been a model/celebrity or makeup artist.)
Gently opening the case that held his skin-powders so that, if they'd been disturbed by his journey, they wouldn't fly up into his face, he selected a pale shade of brown, a little lighter than Greta's skin but darker than his own and carefully applied it to all the skin not covered by his clothing, using just a touch of water so that the powder would form a sort of paste that would stick more than powder. After looking himself over in the mirror to see if he'd missed any spots, he got out the hair-coloring powder and the brush he used to apply it. Choosing a sort of light red-gold color, he dusted his hair with powder and brushed it in, gazing at the mirror the whole time to ensure that he would leave no gaps in his disguise. Satisfied at last, Wolfram delicately closed both cases and left his room, being sure to lock the door behind him. Once downstairs, he stopped briefly at the innkeeper's counter to ask if there was anything he recommended Wolfram do, and received the reply that, should the young sir want amusement, it was probably best to go to the market. After the innkeeper gave him directions, the now-strawberry blond flipped him a coin and left.
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The market was quaint, in a sort of small, crowded way. There were many people haggling over groceries at the food stands (which seemed to make up most of the market) and a few shops that sold cloth, or jewelry and other such fripperies. Stopping at one, Wolfram chose a small, exquisitely worked lily broach as his present for Greta, paid and walked onwards. Many women and a few of the men stopped to stare at him as he walked by, and a few even flirted. The blond flirted back dutifully, using the Court rules of love-games. As he was walking past a rather uncrowded stand, the merchant there chose to fling an offer at Wolfram.
"Potions, spells, charms galore! You there, young man, how would you me to mix up something that could grant any one of your wishes? Only three silvers for one, and if you buy six, I'll throw in a love-philter!"
Wolfram paused and, after wondering what had happened to his sanity (something must have, or else why would he even be considering going over?) reluctantly headed in the street vendor's direction.
The man didn't seem to notice his hesitation and immediately started displaying various bottles of Shinou-knows-what to the blond, explaining in detail what each liquid, powder, or item did and expounding on their benefits. Wolfram tried his best to stay attentive and remember what everything was and what it did (after all, he did need to buy something as a sort of apology for his family and the rest of them, and one of the stupid potion-things might actually work. If Annissina's inventions could work, as Make-Things-Go-Faster-kun had, anything was possible) but lost track sometime between Essence of YueGuang (Guaranteed to make your skin as light and soft as Moonlight Silk!) and Weiss (Gets rid of warts and scars, as well as functioning as an exceptional window-cleaning agent!). He'd tried to escape the merchant's clutches several times, each by some polite hint that was some variation of; really, he needed to be getting somewhere and he was sure that his wares were perfectly lovely but he had no time, so maybe he could drop by next week, but none of them worked. Finally, Wolfram was fed up and desperate to get away from the man, who was in the middle of a rapturous recitation of the properties of Cow-Wort charms (Sure to get rid of those pesky hemorroids!), so he had no choice but to turn to his last resort: to name a potion that would do the impossible.
Interrupting the vendor's tirade about Pig's Wings syrup (Cures colds in seconds!), Wolfram inquired abruptly, "Have you anything that could turn a young man into a woman?"
There. That ought to shut him up for a while, he thought, rather pleased with himself in an evil sort of way. But not for long.
"Why young sir! Whyever did you not mention your reason for gracing my humble stand with your gracious presence before? I would surely not have wasted your time on these (very well priced) trifles! Of course I have one. Wait for a few moments while I brew it, if it pleases you."
And with that, the vendor -and, Wolfram now guessed, amateur potion-brewer- turned around to a small, rather grungy worktable that he hadn't seen, hidden behind the stall and the man's bulk as it was and began throwing random bits of plants and, what worried Wolfram more, dashes of some of the potions he'd attempted to sell him, haphazardly into a sort of mixing bowl, where he then proceeded to mash the concoction with just a little too much fiendish glee for Wolfram's comfort. Before too long, the mixture was pronounced finished by the maker and poured into a glass bottle that was a rather fetching shade of blue.
"Here! Usually, I'd charge you eleven silvers for that one, but as it is for young sir, I shall only require two!"
Wolfram stopped what he'd been doing (which was staring at the liquid in the bottle warily) and straightened. "Whyever would I pay you for something that does not work?!" he demanded angrily.
The merchant merely smiled (is that a psychotic tinge I sense? Wolfram's brain wondered) and handed him the bottle. "Should the young sir become unsatisfied with the results of the potion, I shall gladly return all monies paid."
Wolfram sighed internally. There was nothing for it; he'd have to take the thing or risk offending the vendor. Besides, even if his conscious mind didn't admit it or know it, there was a tiny corner of his subconscious that looked at the bottle and saw something besides a dubious concoction by a questionable source: that corner looked and saw hope. After all, becoming female would solve most of his problems, wouldn't it? Yuuri would have to do something if he was female; there was no way that the wimp could continue hiding behind his excuses of Wolfram not being female as a reason why he would not wed the blond. He bit his lip worriedly before deciding. There was no harm in trying it, now was there?
"I'll take it."
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