Chapter 4: Duty
Character(s): Conrart, Yuuri, Gisela, Wolfram, mentions of Gwendal
Pairings: Can be construed as ConYuu or simply platonic.
Chapter Summary: He could feel it pumping through his veins, roaring in his ears, seeping through the very pores of his skin. He knew this feeling.
Additional Notes: Wow, okay, this took a while. BUT, I have the next two chapters already finished and I have an awesome excuse! Would you like to hear it? Of course not. Blame the Homestuck. Any feedback/constructive criticism welcome. (:

Yuuri couldn't remember exactly when the atmosphere changed, when their light-hearted outing became terrifying. One moment Wolfram was lightly pulling him towards a booth filled with scented soaps, laughing quietly in his ear, and then Conrart was pushing him protectively behind him- with a terse request to remain there. The transition was fuzzy, and vaguely disorienting in its quickness.

One thing Yuuri could never forget was the expression of absolute helplessness that engulfed Conrart's features the moment before his own vision blinked and died.

Lately, Yuuri had been valiantly attempting to get all workloads resolved within the week of their arrival. It was becoming readily obvious that he was growing up, and with this came the monarch's awareness that he had a tendency to neglect certain duties. Perhaps he had noticed before, but had simply never cared. It had always been something he considered Gwendal's job. So Gwendal was not only impressed, but also fairly proud, when his young charge entered their shared office one morning, sat in his chair, and began to process the paperwork before him without qualms. This novelty quickly became procedure, and while it gave Yuuri no extra happiness it bestowed a certain fulfillment— he was doing his part for the kingdom that was his.

The Maou was working harder than ever before to become more proficient in the tedious tasks that accompanied his profession, but he was restless. They could all sense it. At least, those who knew him well enough. Yozak could see it in the boy's weary eyes, when he sauntered in for a briefing or a quick hello. Wolfram anxiously nagged his fiancée, worried the boy's care-free disposition might slip away from him. Conrart suggested that they go out for a few hours, simply to visit the bazaar and enjoy the countryside.

Yuuri was instantly excited at the prospect and, sensing Wolfram's hesitation, gently asked the blonde if he'd like to accompany them. Mollified, the boy insisted that he'd allow it no other way. The three waited for a day when the Maou's work was not suffocating in its excessiveness, informed Gwendal of their intentions, and stole the rest of the evening to simply have fun. The very thought filled the young king with such a warmth— his retainers really cared about and valued him. Not just as a king, but as a person.

Sometimes, tension had the instinct of falling between Conrart and Wolfram when Yuuri was present. It had grown lesser and lesser throughout the years, but it still happened at times. Not this night. The three of them blended into such a perfect camaraderie, Yuuri couldn't believe how natural it felt— Wolfram teasing him, then defending himself with gusto while Conrart pretended to mediate between the two. The maou felt a small pang of sadness that it could not always be this way between them, but perhaps that would be just another thing he would strive to work for.

Suddenly, just as Wolfram was pointing out some tempting bath products, Yuuri felt Conrart go stiff beside him. He looked up at the soldier with a question in his eyes, but received no answer. Wolfram and Conrart exchanged short glances, and then were both subtly exposing their swords— letting the hidden but obviously present threat know that they were both armed and experienced. Apparently it didn't matter. There was one startled shriek, and then another, as suddenly the marketplace was filled with masked men— dropping from the tops of buildings, emerging from the alleys, all brandishing cruelly curved sabers fit for gutting any creature. The civilians scrambled, terrified, but they had no need. The eyes of every one of those men fell directly to none other than Yuuri.

"This was a mistake," Wolfram muttered angrily.

"Heika, please stay behind me," Conrart said, but Yuuri knew it wasn't a request. How these men knew he was the Maou was beyond him; they were donned, head to toe, in proper disguises. He simply prayed that they wouldn't cut down an unfortunate civilian on their path to him.

Then chaos broke out. He was surrounded by a flurry of angry clashes, metal against metal, and Conrart was slowly trying to back Yuuri into the stall, so he could jump behind it and hide, while simultaneously fighting off three men. But Yuuri was violently ripped away from his protector, the hand wrapped firmly around his tunic giving him the worst whip-lash he's ever experienced. He heard a sudden voice— Yozak, he guessed he shouldn't be surprised the spy pretty much dogged his tracks everywhere now—yell out in anger. Yuuri twisted painfully in the grasp that strangled him, attempting to dislodge the firm grip, but to no avail. The assailant grunted and snapped the back of his saber against Yuuri's skull. He heard a sickening crack, and cried out in the wave of pain that followed. His vision blurred dangerously, maddeningly, but then it focused. He saw everything.

A man slipped right between Wolfram and Yozak, who were both out-numbered and taxed to capacity, and right up behind Conrart. Before the soldier could defend his flank, the man made a quick slice with his saber and Conrart went down, onto the ground, where the man proceeded to stamp his boots viciously down onto his chest. Over and over and over again, until Yuuri could see blood drip from his soldier's mouth and side. In that moment, an indescribable amount of panic Yuuri had never felt before overtook him. He could feel it pumping through his veins, roaring in his ears, seeping through the very pores of his skin. He knew this feeling.

The Maou let out a furious roar. The man detaining him flew backwards into the building and landed in a heap against the ground, unmoving. The Maou paid no heed to this. He flew towards the only sight he was capable of seeing: Conrart, on the earth, blood spilled and eyes clenched in debilitating pain. He was running on pure instinct. Vague shouts and screams of his name fell on deaf ears. He didn't think twice before he dropped to his knees and threw himself over the body of his soldier, shielding him from the incoming blows. The boot fell on him, fast and hard, exactly three times before his vision sputtered and went dark.

When the Maou had appeared, brilliant and wrathful, maryouku bathed his body like a pulsating cloak, and for a moment it was all the men could do but freeze in awe. They had heard of this before of course, it was part of what convinced them he was valuable enough to risk coming after, but they had never seen it in person. Taking this fleeting advantage, Yozak and Wolfram sent all remaining opponents face first to the dirt. They both then turned to the masked man who was now assaulting their king with absolute rigor, renewed in his feeling of desperate abandon, the wild look in his eyes betraying his fear.

Yozak tackled the man to the ground and silenced him with a fierce growl, while Wolfram rushed to their two comrades who lay prone on the ground, healing maryouku already brightening his fingertips and illuminating the tears on his face.

When Yuuri startled awake, the first thing he noticed was the splitting headache. The second thing he noticed was the sharp pain between his ribs, like the time he had fallen off the monkey-bars when he six, only much stronger. The third thing he noticed was that this was absolutely too much pain to be feeling sitting up, so he slowly lowered himself back down to the pillow, biting his lip to block the whimpers he knew would be come.

Then he noticed voices, hushed and urgent, coming from outside the door. He couldn't place the voices; his head… it hurt very badly. Suddenly the door opened, and a very harried Gisela stepped into the room. When she saw he was awake, she flashed him a smile and shut the door quietly behind her.

"I apologize, Heika. Did we wake you?"

Yuuri tried to shake his head— really, he did— but all he could manage was a small moan when he tried. He had to snap his eyes shut to stave off the wave of sudden nausea that poured over him.

Gisela sighed with sympathy, and when Yuuri felt well enough, he peeked up at her. Her eyes were soft but her mouth was a hard line across her delicate face. Yuuri thought she looked mad.

"Do not attempt to move, please, Heika. I need to check up on your recuperation." She sat down in a wicker chair, already positioned by the bed, and gently took the king's wrist for a pulse. After a few moments she moved her hand to the back of Yuuri's head, asking him to tilt it slightly when her access was obstructed by the pillow.

"You had a concussion, you know, and two broken ribs."

Yuuri didn't know how to respond to that. He couldn't think very well, he thought, so he tried not to think at all. It just hurt too much.

"We've already re-set your ribs, but I'm afraid there is not much I can do about the concussion. You'll need to remain awake, Heika, so I'll have to ask you to take this…" she gestured to a cup of something-or-another that was sitting on his bedside table, waiting for him he supposed, and pushed it closer to the bed at his confused expression. More voices came from outside the door, deeper and lower this time. Gisela glanced at the door once, and then hesitated slightly, looking like she wished to say something. It was a look Yuuri often received from a certain blonde he knew, so he threw the medic a gallant attempt at his regular lop-sided grin before he said, "Go ahead."

She looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. "A king should always consider his safety a priority. If something were to happen to the king, the country would fall to chaos. A king should always put his safety first… but you…" her brow creased as her voice lowered to almost a whisper, so low that Yuuri's head hurt trying to separate it from the murmurs outside the room. His room, he suddenly realized, running his fingers idly over the silk blankets.

"I think you made an admirable decision. I… I would have done the same thing."

Yuuri was a little shocked. He'd never known her to show such rashness before. Then his thoughts drifted to that moment, and he shakily grabbed the mug and took a few tentative sips. He didn't know if it would help the sudden pounding behind his eyes, or the fuzzy texture to his thoughts, but he needed to do something with his hands.

Gisela smiled and stood up, the picture of smooth efficiency as she brushed out her creaseless uniform. "The medicine will keep you awake, but it should also help with the pain. There are many people who wish to see you, Heika, but I think it prudent that you should relax a bit before you have visitors."

When the door suddenly opening behind her, Gisela's smile became a tad bit warmer. "Although… maybe just one would be alright." With that the woman flashed one more brilliant smile, bowed, and turned to exit the room. She closed the door softly behind her, and suddenly Yuuri felt that the room was very full. Much, much too full. He glanced at Conrart, a bit nervous. He didn't understand the look on Conrart's face.

It was the look that he gave visiting dignitaries; completely benign, but so, so wrong on his face. At least while he was looking at Yuuri.

The man sat gingerly down on the abandoned chair, and the room fell to quick silence. Yuuri didn't fail to notice the thick, gauzy bandages wrapped around Conrart's middle, sticking out from under his half-open military jacket, and Conrart didn't fail to notice Yuuri's glazed eyes, or the padded bandage covering half the boys head, the way he lay precariously stationed on those two aching ribs, the way his mouth was curved downward miserably- no, Conrart never failed to notice anything about Yuuri.

"What happened?" Yuuri finally asked, voice small and very lost.

Conrart leaned forward slightly in the chair, resting his elbows tiredly on his knees. His eyes were downcast, examining the bed which Yuuri had been confined to for the past two weeks. It had been a punishing two weeks for everyone, but Conrart allowed himself the right to feel he was probably the most affected. Conrart, who's three broken ribs and deep-tissue laceration were healing just fine, while he watched his king lay broken in a bed for two weeks.

He was about to open his mouth to speak. To say something that would make Yuuri see that what he had done was wrong, so very wrong. His king stopped him with words of his own, spilling out and tumbling over one another.

"Please don't be angry at me."

Conrart had to pause to process that, partly because the words had been quite muddled and rapid-fire, and partly because despite his king's plea, a flame of anger licked away at his insides. He waited for the fury to calm, not wanting to lie to his king.

"I am not angry, Heika. However I am… displeased." He gave Yuuri the most serious expression he could without revealing the tumultuous emotions he was experiencing. All of the guilt and shame for not protecting him, all of the anger and frustration for the Yuuri's rashness, and all of the warmth for knowing that this boy cared for him so much. Maybe even as much as Conrart cared for him.

"My job is to protect you, Yuuri. If you throw yourself on top of me during a battle, that defeats the purpose of my job." Conrart knew that his king was weak and tired, and probably emotional from the look on his face, so he decided to spare the more extensive version of this talk for a later point in time. But this was something that could not, would not happen again. This was something Yuuri had to understand thoroughly.

What Conrart did not expect was for Yuuri to get angry.

"I was scared! You were going to die, and I was scared! More s-scared than I've ever been, ever, so don't try to tell me I was being irresponsible, o-or that it was your job because that's all you care about-!" his voice caught in his throat as a dry sob wracked his body. Conrart immediately reached over the bed and gathered the boy into his arms delicately, aware of his numerous injuries, and tried not to wince as the boy clung to him desperately.

"I— Oh, god, your ribs… I'm s-sorry, geez, I'm such a…"

Conrart ignored the boy's attempts to relinquish him. Instead, he perched on the edge of the bed and gently guided Yuuri down until his head rested squarely in his lap. He made soothing noises as the boy hiccupped and shivered and pulled the blankets securely around his small frame, stroking his hair until finally the room fell silent.

Conrart didn't know what to say, or where to start, but he tried.

"Yuuri. You are more than a job to me. Surely you realize that?" He ran gentle fingers along the boy's scalp, skating past the bandage to the other side of his head and then back.

"I know that." Yuuri responded instantly. "I know. I just… I lost you once, you know?" He swallowed, trying to force down the lump in his throat, but then deciding it was fine if it stayed there, so long as he didn't cry all over Conrad again. His cheeks burned with the embarrassment of it, though the emotion felt so superficial compared to the hundred other things that passed his mind.

Conrart felt the tense bubble in his chest drop like a ball of lead to his stomach. The icy core between his lungs poked him reproachfully, muttered traitorous words in his ears— your fault, your fault—

"And once was enough." Yuuri's eyes sought his, then, with an expression that was perfectly unreadable but entirely understood. I don't know what I would do if something had happened to you…

"… Because of me," Conrart muttered, after a slight intermission. Yuuri nodded in gentle assent.

Conrart considered this for a while, and the room was pregnant with silence. He looked down at the king who was just a little older than he used to be, just a little wiser, and much braver. Much braver, Conrart thought, than any person he had ever known.

He pressed a light kiss to his king's brow and stood up easily, trying to contain the amused smile that crept up as Yuuri stared at him with wide eyes.

"You will always be my number one priority, Heika. Please remember that for future occasions."