And here we are in the third installment of Loving the Maou. This one-shot takes a look at Yuuri and Conrad when they are both a little older, on the brink of establishing themselves as a couple. The main thought I had while writing this is that waiting is lovely, yes, but it's important not to let time slip away…
Loving the Maou: A Soldier's Handbook
A dedicated soldier supports his Maou in all the young man's endeavors. It is important to remember that as the ruler of a country, the King has many duties that require his attention, but it is in the small details that soldier can show his devotion. The quality that sets a loving soldier apart from all other potential suitors is his readiness to accept change at a moment's notice. Kings are tricky creatures and must be cared for with gentle patience and loving persistence. When you find yourself faced with a worried Maou, the best thing to do is ease his distress by whatever means available at the moment—even if that means using a hands-on approach…
Taken from chapter seven of Loving the Maou: A Soldier's Handbook.
Part Three: Threads of Silver and Gold
Gwendal von Voltaire was no stranger to conflict. War had been, after all, his calling for many years, but the current power-struggle had him at his wit's end because this was not a battle between Shin Makoku and another country, but a civil war between his two brothers. It had been years since Yuuri-heika had finally ended his engagement, formally and irrevocably to his youngest brother, and since that time Wolfram had taken to exorcising his frustrations on Cheri-sama's middle child—whenever he was in residence at the castle. And the eldest of the brothers had had enough. So, he had orchestrated a meeting between the parties involved and now, including himself, four men sat around the conference table in his office—all of them silent, and speaking only for himself, he had a headache larger than the whole of Shin Makoku.
"Wolfram," he said, trying to start the dialogue once more. "If you have something to say, now is the time. If we plan to move on from this, then everyone should use this opportunity to say everything that needs to be said, because after we leave this room, this subject is closed forever and the two of you will clasp hands and be brothers again."
"I don't' have anything to say to either of them. Why should I listen to a couple of cheating bastards?"
"Wolfram! I don't care what you call me, but you won't speak about Yuuri-heika like that." Conrad's voice was hard, his expression implacable.
Gwendal sighed, frowning. Even though they were often compared to one another, he hated it when either of his brothers exhibited his own stubborn qualities. Conrad had yet to respond to any of Wolfram's temper tantrums, his only words coming whenever Wolfram said something negative about the Maou directly. The King, for his part, looked slightly ill.
"Yuuri-heika and I have never been intimate."
"Like that matters," Wolfram muttered, folding his arms over his chest.
"It is still an insult, Wolfram," Gwendal pointed out. "If the Maou wants—"
"I'm going to die."
The Maou's words silenced the room, and Gwendal knew his own expression must mirror his younger brother's obvious shock.
"Heika!" He said sharply. "What do you mean, are you ill?"
Yuuri-heika shook his head, his embarrassed smile easing the galloping of Gwendal's heart.
"I'm not sick, but…look." The Maou leaned over the table and pointed to the side of his head, just above his right ear, then he turned slightly and pointed to the side opposite.
"What exactly am I supposed to be seeing, Yuuri?" Wolfram growled. "This better not be a trick."
The Maou shook his head and his smile turned sad. "You see it, don't you, Conrad?"
Gwendal watched his middle brother. The younger half-mazoku nodded, his expression turning sad to match the Maou's. That strange union between them, that perfect understanding…Gwendal sighed inwardly. It would take a fool not to see the deep connection between the two men, and he wondered how his youngest brother had hoped to drive a wedge between that.
"It's been about a year now, hasn't it, Yuuri?" Conrad asked.
The young king nodded. "It's not just the silver hair at my temples. I feel it, too, in my knees and shoulders. I'm not as supple as I was, and sometimes, my joints ache when it's cold. It's nothing to worry about right now, but I think we all need to face the fact that I'm aging as any normal human would. I may carry Julia-san's soul, but my body was born and bred on earth. I may be half-mazoku, but, you know that the lifespan of the mazoku of earth is no greater than that of a human. I'm getting older, I'm almost thirty, Wolfram, and while that means nothing to you, it means that I'm well into my adulthood, and I'm tired of acting like I'm going to live forever. You have a future before you that I can't begin to imagine, so maybe fifty years, give or take, doesn't seem like very much to you, but it's my lifetime we're discussing here. I'm sorry for hurting you, Wolfram, I really am…but we're not in love, and it's been years, and I am no longer willing to wait for you to get over it. I know full-mazoku can hold grudges forever, but I don't have that kind of time. So, I want you to let it go now, so Conrad can move on, too."
"Yuuri," the young demon whispered, looking between the king and his oldest brother, as though Gwendal would be able to solve this problem. For his part, Gwendal stared at the king, concentrating, and then he saw it—the fine lines around his eyes, barely noticeable but present all the same, the changing hair, the strong, sharp masculine features that spoke of a man in the prime of his life. Had Yuuri-heika been a mazoku, or even a half-mazoku of Shin Makoku like Conrad, he would still look almost the same as he had when he first arrived in Shin Makoku. Gwendal blinked. He thought he had learned his lesson with Conrad's father, Dan Hiri, but, apparently he had missed the signs once again.
"If you have to hate anyone, Wolf," Yuuri-heika said softly, "then please hate me. Stop berating Conrad for a choice I made. I didn't even discuss it with him."
"I don't hate you, Yuuri," Wolfram said, his voice quiet and sober. "I just…I hate that you chose him over me."
"That's not fair," Gwendal said. "No one can help who he loves, and you should know that, Wolfram."
"Do you love him?" Wolfram asked his older brother. Finally, Gwendal thought, no we're getting somewhere.
"Yes," Conrad replied, simply, reaching over and covering the Maou's hand with his own.
"And all this time, you've been holding yourself back because of…me?" Wonder and disbelief were evident in Wolfram's voice.
"I love you, too, Wolfram. What should I have done? What would you have done in my place? You're my little brother."
Gwendal watched as Wolfram reached over the table and brushed at Conrad's hair. In the sunlight, the gold highlights in his brown hair shone brightly. "You're not getting any younger, either…brother."
"That's true." Conrad's expression didn't change. It was clear he wasn't concerned for himself.
"I don't understand," Yuuri-heika said, frowning.
"Your hair turns silvery when you age, Heika," Gwendal explained. "Conrad's will turn red-gold."
He watched as his middle brother laced his fingers with the Maou. "Wolfram, can you make peace now. Have you had your say?" Gwendal asked.
His younger brother hesitated.
"Life is too short, all life is too short, to continue to bear such a burden," Yuuri-heika said quietly. "I want to see you two be brothers again."
Wolfram was silent for a long time, his eyes closed. Gwendal folded his hands in front of him and waited.
"All right, Yuuri," Wolfram said finally. "All right. But only because you asked me."
"That's good enough for me," the Maou said, turning to Conrad.
His middle brother nodded. "I'm happy, Wolfram. I don't want to be estranged from you."
"I think we're finished here," Gwendal said, pushing back from the table and standing up. "Heika, I'm sure you and Conrad have much to discuss. Wolfram and I will be in the garden with Mother. Come with me, Wolfram."
Everyone stood, and Gwendal went to the door, opening it and allowing his youngest brother to pass in front of him. Just before he stepped out into the hall, he looked over his shoulder. Conrad had pulled the king close to his chest, resting his cheek against the top of the slightly shorter man's head. A ray of sun blazed through his window, falling on the couple, illuminating them with warm light. It was then that he could truly see it—the mingled silver and gold, the colors that would mellow and blend with time. He smiled, closing the door behind him. That was how he would always remember them, long after they were both gone, standing together, united, the way they were always meant to be.
Ok, so…not a death-fic because I don't write those, but, I have always wondered about Yuuri's aging process. I know that time flexes while he's in Shin Makoku, seeming hardly to pass at all on Earth, but, he still exists and time still moves forward in a narrative fashion, but, if I get started I could go on about time-theory all night, so, I'll just leave it like this…it may not be totally fluffy, but…it makes me happy to think of Conrad and Yuuri growing old together. Thanks for reading and I'll be seeing you!