My Dear Readers and Friends…Ah, where to begin. First, I have not fallen off the face of the planet, however, our Christmas and New Years have been touched by sadness. My significant other, most beloved fellow and loving partner's father was killed in an auto accident shortly after my last updates to this story and Return to Me. I have been out of the country since then, with absolutely no internet access, tending to our family's affairs. While my partner and I are not married, we have been together for a long time and his father was like my second father. I have only just returned to the States last week, and I was not much in the mood to write romance. So, please forgive my delay, but we have had much to do. Thank you for your patient forbearance, and I see by my inbox that I have much to read and respond to—I will do so as I can. I am somewhat back together, though the grieving process continues…all that being said, I feel I can write again. Therefore, I offer for the new year, installment Nine of LTM. I will be posting the same message on the next chapter of RTM, so readers of both shouldn't be surprised. Thank you all, again…and I hope this comes up to scratch…SN
Loving the Maou: A Soldier's Handbook
The Maou commands any number of magical instruments, implements, and beasts. In fact, magic is a staple of the King's existence and those events that are mystical and nearly inexplicable can become so commonplace in the ruler's life that he or she can begin to lose sight of the fact that the small details such as the simple truth of a secret shared or a taste of a scrumptious treat are, in themselves, the essence of magic. A wise, savvy soldier will find ways to show his king that the greatest power of all stems from a giving and faithful heart.
Taken from chapter twenty-two of Loving the Maou: A Soldier's Handbook.
Looking through the window at the rain coming down in torrents, Yuuri tried to remember exactly how long he had been imprisoned in the small, dank chamber he now inhabited. He tried, as he always did when it rained, to stretch his fingers through the bars of his window, but even though the scant amounts of food that he'd been permitted over the past days had thinned his frame to the point of skeletal sharpness, the bars were still too close together to allow his fingers to pass. Sighing, Yuuri drew away from the window and slid down against the opposite wall. In some fevered corner of his brain, he believed that if he touched the rain he might be whisked away to earth, and the warmth of his bed, his mother's curry, and the understanding eyes of his best friend, Murata. If he could only get to Murata, then perhaps he could find his way home to Shin Makoku again.
"But I don't know where I am, and I don't even know who is holding me," he muttered against his knees.
Tired, ragged, and hungry, Yuuri tried desperately to remember how this had happened. Kidnapping was something, he was embarrassed to admit, he'd almost grown used to. He apologized for the millionth time, and promised for the billionth time, that if he got out of this current predicament, then he'd never gainsay Gwendal again…he'd always consult Gunter before he left the castle, and he'd even be nice to Wolfram—acquiescing to his insane demands to escort Yuuri every place the King decided to go. And Conrad…Yuuri winced. Conrad. For him, for his most beloved Nazukeoya—there was nothing he wouldn't do.
Just as soon as he could get the hell out of this place.
The ruler of the Demon Nation reached up, with trembling fingers, to stroke the thin circlet of metal encircling his head. He didn't know who placed it there, but he was certain of the crown's magical effects. Whether it was imbued with houseki, or had some other ward placed upon it, Yuuri couldn't say, but it was clear that whatever it was—it was enough to lock the Maou inside of him, contain all his power…and confuse his memory.
"Get up, Demon. Your dinner is ready."
Yuuri looked toward the chamber door. The gruff command came from one of the robed figures that appeared twice daily. The man was holding a tray. From his place on the floor, Yuuri could smell his dinner—he didn't need to see it to know it was rancid stew of some kind, no doubt writhing with maggots as it had been the day before, and a glass of sweet juice—juice he would try to sip slowly. It was the only thing palatable that came to his tiny chamber, and he knew he would drink it, just as he knew that when he did he would black out…again. And while he wasn't sure what would happen after that, he knew he would wake up with fresh bruises and aches in places he didn't even know he had.
The robed guard dropped the tray at Yuuri's feet—the bowls upended and clattered across the floor. This, too, was no longer surprising to the young King. As he watched his precious juice slip between the seams of the stone pavers that made up his floor, he resigned himself to another day without sustenance, and a night with nameless, unspeakable dreams. Without bothering to clear away the litter, Yuuri merely turned his face aside and closed his eyes.
The scent of fresh flowers tickled his nose, making Yuuri open his eyes. It had been so long since he'd smelled the outdoors, or felt the warmth of the sun on his face. Looking up at the sky, he noticed the puffy shapes of clouds and a quick glance at his surroundings revealed the sweetest dream. He was in the orchard, back at blood pledge castle, and his heart began to race when his gaze fell on Conrad. His soldier was striding down the path. Yuuri scrambled to his feet and stormed toward the man he loved with all his speed. Before Conrad could call out a greeting, Yuuri slammed into the taller man's chest and held him tight.
"Heika!" Conrad whispered, his hand coming up to stroke the back of Yuuri's hair.
"Conrad!" Yuuri cried, snuggling closer. "I guess I finally died, or something. I'm not complaining, but I didn't think you'd be the first person I'd see—are you dead, too?"
"I don't think so, Yuuri," Conrad said, laughing. "But where have you been? I've…we've all been so worried."
"I don't know," Yuuri replied, shaking off the sense of dread that was steadily creeping up on him. It was a warm, beautiful, sunny day, and he was, finally, holding onto Conrad again. He was either dead or dreaming, and it didn't much matter to him which. "Some guys in black robes bring me food from time to time, but it's really gross. I was pretty sick, I think. I was locked in a chamber, maybe in a castle—but I was up pretty high, because I could only see sky from my window. Then again, it rained all the time, too—so I'm not sure how high up I was."
"How many days did it rain, Yuuri?" Conrad asked, his cinnamon colored eyes growing dark.
"I don't know. They put something on my head, like a crown or something…it messes with my mind." Yuuri pressed closer to Conrad's chest and sighed. "I never thought I would see you again."
"That could never happen," Conrad whispered. "Didn't I promise to stay by your side always?"
Yuuri looked up into his faithful soldier's eyes. "I wish this was real," he said suddenly, with a fierceness he'd always felt but had never before shown.
"Why, Yuuri?" Conrad's expression softened, and something lit in his eyes that made the young king shiver with happiness.
"Because I've never been brave enough to tell you how I really feel."
"And how do you feel?" the soldier asked.
Yuuri opened his mouth to reply, but the sense of dread slammed into him again, and he found himself gripping onto something less solid than his knight.
"Yuuri—" The words sounded distant, like an echo across the hills. "Remember what you were going to say…hold onto that feeling and don't let go. I promise I will find you."
When he opened his eyes again, Yuuri was almost disappointed to see that he was still in the same cell, with the same rain falling outside, and the same listless feeling of ill-health settling over his stomach. He squeezed his eyes closed again and tried to remember his dream—it had been something pleasant and beautiful. Conrad's face flashed in his mind's eye, and the sound of the strong man's voice. He had charged Yuuri—commanded him to do something. The young king struggled to remember his beloved's words. Slowly, the images came creeping into his memory. The castle, the orchard, his fingers fisted in Conrad's jacket…and a promise. Conrad had promised to find him—and told Yuuri to hold onto his feelings—to remember.
Yuuri took a deep breath, and forced himself to focus only on Conrad and his faithful soldier's promise. Conrad Weller had bid Yuuri remember, and so he would.
He did not know how long he sat in the corner of the dreary cell any more than he could count the number of individual rain drops that fell outside his window, but in that time, Yuuri remembered. He remembered the first moment he arrived in Shin Makoku. He remembered the first time that Conrad took his hand and rescued him. He remembered long evenings playing catch. He remembered stolen afternoons, when Conrad would pry him from Gwendal's clutches and the mountains of paperwork and the two would play catch for hours. He remembered sword practice, etiquette lessons, long walks and even longer silences which were no burden, for being alone with Conrad was Yuuri's most private pleasure. He couldn't say for sure when he fell in love with the tall, handsome, ever-cheerful soldier, but he knew for sure that he loved Conrad Weller with a depth that rivaled any ocean. He ignored the robed figures that still appeared at his door at certain intervals. He focused solely on his stalwart protector—because he now felt certain that his life depended on it.
How long had it been? Days? Weeks? Longer? Maybe only hours? Yuuri had no idea, but the first change he noticed was that it was no longer raining outside—the sun was shining through his window. The second change was sound. For so long, he had been locked in a world absent of sound, now however, he could hear the ringing of steel clashing against steel. He heard shouts and the thunder of hooves. The cacophony seemed to be moving closer as well, the chorus of violent sounds becoming louder as the moments passed. Even with the warning, the door to his cell crashing open still caused him to jump.
Framed in the doorway, staring down at him, was the one face he wanted most to see.
"Conrad…" he rasped. "You…you look like hell."
The soldier stared back at him, his face blank, then his lips split into a wide, beautiful smile. "And so do you, Heika."
After that interminable time of nothing happening, time sped up to a blur. Yuuri could barely keep focused as he was gathered in Conrad's arms and swept from the chamber in which he'd been imprisoned. He began to fade in and out of consciousness, but there were flashes of activity that arrested his attention. Gunter seemed to materialize from nowhere and after crushing Yuuri in a bone-wrenching hug, his beautiful adjutant chanted some words Yuuri didn't understand, but the silver circlet that had been around his head clattered to the floor. Gwendal, then, stepped on the piece, grinding it to dust beneath his boot. Wolfram was screaming at the top of his lungs—something about destroying the people responsible, and Murata's face appeared very close to his, but Yuuri couldn't understand what his friend was saying.
"Conrad…?" he whispered.
"Yes, Yuuri?" His soldier asked, holding the king closer to his wide chest.
"I'm going to pass out now, ok?"
"Just sleep, Heika. I'll have you home soon."
"Yuuri, Nazukeoya!" Yuuri admonished. He fell asleep before he heard his soldier's reply.
When Yuuri opened his eyes again, he was shocked to discover that he was nestled in a warm cocoon of blankets. The air around him was fresh, and though it was night, the blaze of a bright fire illuminated what was clearly a well-defended camp. He turned slightly to his right to see Gwendal. The general's somber expression was even more serious than Yuuri remembered.
"Gwendal…?" he didn't know how to ask all the questions that were flying through his brain.
"Be still, Heika," his general said, holding up his hand. "You have been in captivity for three months. You were kidnapped on your way back to Shin Makoku from Francshire, and it appears that the League of Twelve were behind it. The crown on your head was magical, and not only subdued your powers, but shielded you so that we could not find you—although we searched every moment since your abduction. Two days ago, Conrad came to me and told me he dreamed of you—and that he knew how to find you. He led us to you, Heika."
"Is everyone all right?" Yuuri asked.
"There was a great deal of unrest while you were away, although Gunter and Conrad took your abduction worst of all. But we all…suffered."
Yuuri looked away from Gwendal's sad stare. He had caused so much trouble…again.
"How…did Conrad know how to find me?"
"He told us he knew in a dream, as I said…but if you search your heart, Heika, I think you will find your answer. Now, rest and sleep. You are safe and well, and tonight I will guard you—myself."
"But…Conrad?" Yuuri started to ask. Gwendal held up his hand to prevent the question, then pointed. Yuuri turned his head to see Conrad sleeping, not three feet from him—his face so gaunt that the firelight cast deep shadows on the hollows of the soldier's cheeks.
"He would not leave your side, Heika." Gwendal said, quietly. "And if you will forgive my boldness in speaking to you so directly…I think it's about time you reward my brother for his patient devotion."
Yuuri nodded, intimidated and silenced by his general's simple words. It had been so long, and the habits he'd developed in his time as king of Shin Makoku were hard to ignore, but, Yuuri had slept a bit now and he remembered dreaming, too. He had promised to remember how he felt, and while he had never had the courage to give a voice to the love he felt for Conrad, recent events had brought home to him the simple truth that love could be ripped away. What if he had died…without ever telling Conrad the truth?
Ignoring Gwendal's piercing stare, Yuuri twisted out of his blankets and readjusted his bedroll so that he was snuggled up against Conrad's side. His soldier woke just as Yuuri's head touched his chest.
"Heika…?" Conrad asked, his arms flexing around Yuuri's thin frame.
"Don't wanna talk right now," Yuuri whispered, rubbing his cheek against Conrad's shoulder. "Talk tomorrow. We're together and that's all that matters."
"I'll never leave your side, Yuuri."
As Conrad's fingers twisted in his hair, the young King of Skin Makoku took a deep breath and let it out slowly. They could talk it all out tomorrow, but now was a time for repaying his soldier's bravery with courage of his own.
"And I'll never leave yours." Yuuri nuzzled the taller man's neck gently. "You told me to hold on to my feelings and to remember. I did. I love you, Conrad. And I can never forget that."
Time stopped.
There was no movement, no sound of crickets, and even the soft breeze that had played with the campfire flames stilled. Yuuri held his breath. He was so tired, but he couldn't rest until he knew…until he knew for sure.
"Those are the words I've waited a lifetime to hear. I love you, too, Yuuri."
Smiling, and satisfied in a way he'd never been before, the young king of the demon nation let his lover's vow wind itself around his heart. His last thought, before he slipped back into a now restorative slumber was simply this…love is the only real magic in the world. The rest is just window dressing.
And in the morning, when he woke, Yuuri found himself wrapped in Conrad's arms. Silently, and without moving so as to not disturb his solder's sleep, the Maou watched the sunrise and smiled as he thought of his future. There was so much to be thankful for—beginning and ending with the one beside him.
And there is Part Nine. Part ten will be funny….that much I promise. And for those reading RTM, an update for that story follows in the morning. I'm too tired at present to proofread it. Thanks again for your wonderful reviews and for reading. For now, though, I wish you all pleasant dream..SN
