Sacrifices Made for Love

By,

Rune Wolfe

Disclaimer: I own none of Kyou Kara Maou

Note: I apologize for the shortness of the chapter, but I felt it was stronger as a shorter piece than the longer version

Chapter 10: You Held My Hand

A bright white filled Wolfram's subconscious as the warmth of his seed was torn from his body… from his protective womb… from the home Wolfram had built for his son.

You're free now, little one, he thought, the words clear as echoes in his mind, please, my child, if I don't follow, do not forget me, for if you do, I will really die. Tell your father that I love him and hold him for me if he cries. I'm not strong enough, my heart is too broken…. Can you still hear me? You are leaving my protection for the light, but I pray there is still some connection. Please…. Don't let go of me. I am part of you, the greater part, whether it is the fairer I am not certain. Remember the hopes of your mother: live your life knowing I too loved you, live knowing your father is there to give you my love, and know that most of all, you are love. Goodbye, my little golden one.

His body gave a last sigh, and he fell still, blood drying at the edges of his gashed stomach, folded aside to reveal what was within him, what made him. The haven where his child had been resting peacefully was flooded with that crimson and scarlet, and his lungs were beginning to fail.

A woman with flowing emerald hair, shook her head sadly, clutching the silent babe to her chest, her own heart beating strongly, as she watched the slowing rise and fall of the queen's ribcage. The child remained silent as the blood was dabbed from his skin, as the remnants of his bearer were washed away into cloudy tepid water.

Feminine hands swept strands of golden hairs from the forehead of a glowing figure on the bed. The newborn watched it with newly opened eyes and even in infant thoughts he wondered about the beauty draped in blood-soaked sheets. Who was this sun? Who was this person who shined far brighter than the stars? He wanted to be brought to him… to be placed in Cupid's arms. He wanted his mother.

Yet none would bring him closer, none would acknowledge his feeble desperation. His useless muscles shook pathetically as the braying sounds of weeping began to split his small flaxen crown. Were these to be his first moments of life? Born to the sound of sobs and to the sight of his creator slain on a bed of white?

He finally uttered a small sickly cry.

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From beyond the doorframe the hall was silent and still with an emotion so fragile it threaten to shatter at a moment's notice and to wound all those in its vicinity.

Yuuri shifted abruptly as a strange whispering gurgle could be heard through the door, over the droning sobs that hummed into a sound he couldn't recognize. He remained innocently ignorant of his wife's silent pleas… the message bestowed upon his son, and even the fact that that haunting noise had been born of his own child.

The door cracked open, and life was restarted yet the face that greeted them was grim.

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Giezela gazed sympathetically upon the panting child, struggling for breath after having been drowned in his mother's ambrosia. Yet the small creature gave her no notice. His eyes still intent upon what he was being denied. Life flickered weakly in those flinching gold lashes… and though faint his greatest lover was still breathing. Yes, his mother was alive! Had he the power of speech and a skull large enough to bear his destined crown, he would have commanded all aid to go to his glowing haven, yet he was doomed to watch as women adorned in muted colors abandoned his creator for him, for a child who was already breathing, who needed no more help but perhaps his mother's milk and a kiss upon his forehead to welcome him to a world that would too soon prove to be cruel.

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Strong arms braced the weeping king against a hard chest as the boy struggled to move, to stand, to bolt towards that ill fluorescent light that was surely concealing his wife. Yet the knight held fast and his attempts were powerless to sway him. However those strong arms too quivered with pain as Conrart gagged on his own sobs, trying to choke them down in the tangled mop of Yuuri's coal tainted hair. As a nurse stepped aside within that bright room before them, a calm unmoving face encircled by wheaten hair was revealed to them, spirit drained from those once rosy cheeks.

Quickly he guarded his godchild's eyes, no he was not ready to see it, he couldn't…gods someone shut that door he pleaded.

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Yes… shut the door… don't let him see me. Conceal my face and sew my fabric back together. I am shattered here upon my marriage bed. My grave marker. I shall still bear your love, i shall still be queen, though my crown shall be stone and shall stand six feet above my head.

I will wait there, dreaming until you join me.

So rest, sleep,

Close your eyes, Yuuri, and you will not suffer.

Our child will tell you my story when it is time. He shall tell you my love, he shall hold you in my arms.

Don't cry, sweet king, for I have born you a son.

Your own Sun.

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Golden lashes fell still, finally resting upon alabaster cheeks.

No sound was made

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