Disclaimer: I do not own Kyou Kara Maou or any of its characters. Isidore and all of the original characters within were, however, created by me.

Beta-ed by: Guinechan.

Warnings: Spoilers for the end of Season Two. Language, violence, blood, dark/adult themes, angst, and (starting now) sexual exploration/experimentation (successful and otherwise).

Pairing(s): Yuuri/Wolfram, with a few very minor others on the side.

Rating: As of now, this fic will be rated M.

A/N: Chapter Fourteen was originally titled Écrire, but I'd forgotten that that was the title I'd wanted to use for this chapter. I've gone in and changed Fourteen's title to Signer, which means 'to sign,' which leaves Chapter Twenty free to be called Écrire. I know, bad planning on my part. XD;

A/N #2: I felt like writing a mostly fluffy, interlude-ish type chapter before getting back to all the action. I hope you guys enjoy it! Also… I know I managed to respond to some of your reviews last time, but there were others I didn't get around to replying to. I'm sorry! But thank you all so much for your comments!

A/N #3: My beta advised me to once again remind everyone that this fic was started before Season Three was announced. As such, no characters from Season Three are found herein.

Love and War

by Mikage

Chapter Twenty - Écrire - To Write

Keeping his eyes averted from the present company, Wolfram listlessly pushed his food around on his plate, taking a few bites here and there but mostly destroying the delectable looking meal the cooks had arranged for him that evening. He made sure that none of the portions touched, because if he did end up eating some of it then he'd like for none of it to mix together - it would go against his sense of order - but for the most part he spent his time making a mess of what had formerly been a rather artistic presentation. On any other occasion, the cooks would have been commended for their skill; tonight Wolfram hardly noticed.

People had been coming and going in and out of the dining room for the last half hour. Meals that had once been shared by all highborn members within the castle were now taken whenever said members had the time to eat. Gwendal had taken his meal early and had excused himself soon after Wolfram had come in, and Mother was as of yet nowhere to be seen. It was a sad sight to see so few people around the large table, and the absence of a number of the members of his family only increased Wolfram's melancholy.

"And what of your modes of transportation? Cars, are they called? How do they work?"

The despondent prince made a face at the sound of Elizabeth's voice, not having to look up to know that she was currently preening in front of the Great Sage. He didn't know why their camaraderie bothered him so much, but he'd almost managed to convince himself it was because Elizabeth was - supposedly - his best friend and the Sage was a notorious womanizer - or lecherous enough that he sometimes insulted Wolfram's propriety. In actuality, it was more likely that he was jealous. There was Elizabeth, flirting and making eyes at someone while he was here alone and Yuuri was days away doing who knew what with who knew whom.

He knew exactly what the woman was doing, pretending she was interested in the Sage's home world and that she actually understood what he was talking about in order to ingratiate herself into his life and gain more of his attention. What he didn't know was if the Sage was fool enough to fall for it or if he knew what she was doing as well, and was then answering her questions and willingly falling into her trap because he was interested, too. Being cynical by nature and disturbed by the idea of Elizabeth developing a relationship - with the Great Sage of all people - while he was married but exceptionally lonely, Wolfram decided it was more likely that Ken Murata was an idiot, forgetting for the moment that he was the reincarnation of a supremely intelligent man with four-thousand years of experience under his belt.

He tried to ignore the exchange, hence the lack of eye contact and the mutilation of his dinner, but he'd come to realize that the things he was missing himself were often difficult to overlook in others. Why should they get to be happy in each others' company while he was left in longing? What made whatever supreme being who created the universe smile on them while his own happiness was neglected? And what made the Great Sage so special that Elizabeth would shower the man with her attention instead of giving it to him?

Never had he thought that he'd actually be jealous of Elizabeth's affections moving elsewhere, but here he sat, turning his dinner into mush because she'd hardly said a word to him since she'd entered the dining room, choosing instead to ask questions about a world she'd never seen and probably had no intention of ever visiting. He and Elizabeth annoyed one another just as much as they got along, and after the fiasco of four years ago when she'd tried to claim him from Yuuri he thought he'd be happy for her to move on and find someone else. That didn't mean he liked the disregard. She was still his friend, and he'd appreciate it if she actually showed some concern for him when he was facing hardships.

Not that she hadn't shown enough concern already. She'd stayed much longer after the wedding than she could have in order to make sure that things were going well enough for him, and she'd stood by him when Yuuri had run away to Earth a month and a half ago. She'd been absent for a while after that, but she had still returned, and if he was to believe what she said then she'd returned for his sake and not any other.

Of course, it was hard to see any truth in that when she was currently mooning over the Great Sage.

Sneering as talk turned to Earthen cars and how they were operated - none of which anyone around the table besides the Sage understood - Wolfram allowed his spork to fall with a clatter against his plate and snatched up his wine glass to take a few deep gulps. It was completely unfair the way the world worked. The last couple of weeks had been nearly unbearable, sitting in Yuuri's office with Gwendal looming over him, signing the paperwork that Yuuri should be looking over and wishing he could have a more active roll in the war. The temptation to leave now that Yuuri wasn't here to stop him from doing so was strong, but the compulsion was reined in and thwarted by his older brother, who made sure to keep him busy from sunrise until sunset.

Wolfram cared little for politics. Negotiations were difficult for him to engage in when he automatically thought the worst of everyone, and diplomacy had been little used in his childhood, so he lacked a familiarity with it. He was more used to acting in the present, of making a plan and sticking to it instead of allowing room for change and theorizing over a hundred and one possibilities. Where could Cimaron attack from? Where were they most vulnerable against Isidore? Was this action ethical? What would be the effect of this decision over all the others, and vice versa?

The stress and confusion and constant second-guessing was enough to make him rethink his youth. If he'd spent more time studying like Julia had wanted him to instead of demanding to be trained in combat, would these sorts of things come more naturally to him? If he'd listened to Yuuri and come to share his opinions and ideals sooner than he had, would he still question every single one of the decisions he made? Was his inability to understand a sign of his ignorance and lack of intellect in political matters? Or was he still being affected by the prejudices of his childhood?

"Aren't you going to eat?"

Pulling his mostly empty goblet away from his mouth, Wolfram spared a glance at the girl sitting next to him.

Greta smiled pleasantly, already done with her own food but remaining in her seat. She'd joined in with Elizabeth and the Sage's conversation a few times, but had mostly sat and listened, occasionally exchanging a look or two with Wolfram. Her eyes twinkled to show her amusement, and Wolfram knew he was making his morose state obvious.

For once he couldn't be bothered to care.

"I'm not very hungry," he replied, looking down at his plate but refusing to pick up his spork again.

"You should still eat. I'll tell Yuuri that you're not taking care of yourself."

Wolfram was hardly intimidated by her threat. What was Yuuri going to do, force food down his throat whenever he came back? "Considering Yuuri's not here right now, I don't think there's much he can do about it, nor do I think he'd do much more than attempt to issue an order if he was here."

"Speaking of His Majesty," Elizabeth somehow managed to pry her eyes away from the Sage long enough to finally turn her attention to her fairer friend. "Your mother says there's been some progress in your relationship. Is this true?"

Thinking her interest in his life had come much too late for him to feel like speaking to her about it - not that he would have even if he'd had her attention the entire time - Wolfram merely frowned and leaned back in his chair with his arms over his chest, hoping he looked cross but knowing it was more likely that he looked like a petulant child. "I'm so glad the two of you have been exchanging gossip about me," he said, terse and sarcastic.

"Well, you won't tell me, so obviously I'm going to gain my information from other sources. Your mother just so happens to be the most willing to talk, although I'm sure I could find other people who know something about it."

"If I don't tell you, it's for a reason. It's none of your business," he snapped, feeling inwardly betrayed by his mother. She should know he didn't want his relationship with Yuuri being advertised to the world.

"Is that how you treat your oldest friend?" Elizabeth asked. "And to think I came back to look after you when I heard His Majesty had gone away. I'd already risked traveling home. Things are even more dangerous now. Something could have very easily happened to me on the way here, and then where would you be?"

"At peace, seeing as I wouldn't have to hear you blathering on to the Sage. I didn't ask you to come back. You should have stayed home. I don't need you to look after me." His mother and Gwendal were already doing a fine job of that, and apparently Greta was joining in on their efforts.

"Wolfram doesn't like to kiss and tell," his daughter proclaimed.

Apparently she thought she was an authority on his love life as well.

"Shibuya does," the Sage announced, his grin wide and his glasses glinting.

Wolfram was just about to stand and storm out of the room when the words registered, and his face instantly grew red. "What?" he bellowed. "What did he say? How dare he share our private business with other people?"

Yuuri had showed very little interest in their relationship before recent weeks, so he'd assumed that his husband would wish to keep any further developments between themselves. Hearing that the Sage had at some point been informed of things made him wonder just how much Yuuri was saying to people, and how many more people knew what went on behind their bedroom door, which, admittedly, wasn't all that much at the current time - nothing more than kisses and a few light caresses. But if Yuuri was talking now then that meant he might be talking later, and Wolfram definitely did not want other people knowing about what might happen later.

He didn't even know what might happen later!

Elizabeth immediately jumped on the hint of more information. "Yes, Ken, what has he told you? I'd like to hear how well he's treating my dear Brother Wolfram."

"I'm not your 'dear' anything," Wolfram glared at her, before turning his narrowed eyes to the Sage in warning, "and if you know what's good for you, Sage, you won't tell a soul what you seem to think you know."

"It's not like you've done much more than kiss," Greta added lightly, "which everyone knows about by now, seeing as you haven't always kept it private."

The memory of being pressed against a wall in the hallway quickly assailed him, and Wolfram had to force his thoughts back to his anger and annoyance so as not to think about the firmness of Yuuri's body or the hard press of his lips against his own.

"Well… that's… that's entirely Yuuri's doing," he stammered, knowing his face was quickly changing to the red of embarrassment. "I… I would never… not of my own volition… not in p-public. It would be improper."

"Yet I don't hear you complaining when it happens," his husband's friend pointed out, appearing much too cheeky for Wolfram's liking.

"Really?" Elizabeth's level of interest was growing by the second. "You've kissed in public? I hadn't thought you capable of such displays of affection. You? Mr. Propriety himself? I'd have thought you'd keep your relationship completely behind closed doors. I suppose I was wrong to think so. My, you've gotten brave, haven't you?"

"I told you… it was… it was all Yuuri's doing…"

He would simply choose not to acknowledge that he hadn't pulled away or told Yuuri to stop, but had instead been a willing participant in the event in question.

"Have you consummated the marriage yet?"

The redness in his face darkened, and Wolfram could almost feel his virtue shattering as it was brought foreword for discussion. "What?" he bellowed a second time. "No!" There was a moment of reconsideration before he continued. "That is to say… why would I tell you something like that? It's less your business than the kissing is!"

No sort of consummation had yet to take place, and after what had nearly happened to him less than two months prior, Wolfram couldn't see himself being ready for something like that to happen so soon. He and Yuuri had yet to get very far to begin with; the consummation of something that had been more or less forced onto them wasn't something they should be rushing into, and Wolfram had no intention of doing so.

"But it's been two months since you got married," Elizabeth observed. "You haven't even gone through with it in order to make the marriage official? What a sad excuse for a wedding night you must have had. No wonder you're so crabby all the time. You've been repressed."

"If you'll remember, our wedding night didn't exactly go smoothly. We were attacked by Isidore for the first time."

Elizabeth ignored the statement. "You know some people wouldn't hesitate to claim that your marriage is invalid. If the Aristocrats grow displeased with you, I'm sure they'd bring it up. They'll say you're not the true heir until you're His Majesty's true husband."

"I'd lie."

"They'd need proof - soiled sheets and all that."

"Then I'll soil some sheets!" Wolfram shouted, feeling highly uncomfortable by the direction this conversation was taking. "Can we please stop discussing this?"

The door to the dining room creaked open to disrupt them, and Wolfram couldn't have been happier to see one of the guards striding in. Instructions from Gwendal to see to more paperwork before bed would be more welcome than having to sit there and be the target of increasingly inappropriate questions. He'd rather return to the stress of wartime politics than let Elizabeth continue to tease him.

"Your Majesty," the guard greeted him with a small bow before approaching.

"What is it?" he asked, turning away from the other three at the table so as not to invite them to take part in the exchange.

The guard stopped a foot away from him, holding out a folded and sealed sheet of parchment. "We received this dispatch from the main medical unit with instructions that it was to be for your eyes only."

Wolfram snorted, imaging the look that had crossed his brother's face when the liberty of being the first to read the message had been denied to him. "I'm sure Gwendal wasn't pleased to hear that."

"The instructions came from His Majesty himself," the sentry explained, holding the parchment out more in order to hand it to him.

Feeling suddenly surprised, Wolfram reached out to grab it, as if it would be kept from him if he didn't take it quickly enough.

Almost half a month had passed since Yuuri had gone away, and Wolfram had not heard from him. Greta had received a letter shortly after his husband had arrived at the medical station, but Wolfram himself had not been given the same sort of consideration. He hadn't been angry about it; he was happy enough that Yuuri was attempting to develop some sort of a relationship with him, and he was glad to know that he was alright - no matter how he was forced to gain the information. He'd thought to write Yuuri himself, but he hadn't known what to say to him.

The memory of their separation was still fresh in his mind - the kiss they'd shared in their bedroom that had been both sultry and innocent at the same time. It was the most erotic thing they'd done to date - if it could be considered erotic - and just thinking about it caused his heart rate to pick up. It should terrify him; Ilyich had been the first to kiss him in such away, though it had been against his will, and it was images of the attack that filled his dreams every night. But Yuuri had been gentle and caring, and his tenderness had made all the difference. Instead of finding the action distasteful, he'd found it to be very exhilarating.

Impatient to see what the message held, Wolfram broke the seal keeping the parchment from unfolding and spread it open. Yuuri's scribbled handwriting met his eyes and brought a smile to his face, and the formerly embarrassed prince forgot his agitation and became absorbed in the words.

Wolfram,

I'm sorry it's taken me a while to write to you. Things have been busy. That's not much of an excuse, but it's all I have. I meant to write to you when I wrote Greta, but I couldn't really think of anything to say that I hadn't already said to her. I'm sure she told you I was fine, even though I probably should have told you myself.

I arrived at the medical station a week ago, so it's been about two weeks since I left the castle. It's easy to lose track of the days when I don't have things to constantly remind me of the date, but I've been keeping a tally. It makes it seem like time's actually passing instead of standing still. I thought about writing you a few days ago, but it's taken me a while to think of what to write. I'm never really sure what you want to me say.

The last time I saw Conrad was about two days ago. He stayed one night after dropping me off at the medical station, before he and Yozak went to the border. I haven't seen all that much of him since, but he writes to let me know what's going on, and to make sure I'm still okay. I don't know how well things are going for us on the front since he can't send me that sort of information incase someone intercepts it, but he looked optimistic when he came to see me. He might be putting on an act for my sake, but I like to think things are going well. It makes it easier to go through the days.

He's different out here, though I guess it's not all that hard to understand why. After what happened years ago, he probably doesn't want a war any more than we do. Sometimes I'm scared for him even if I know he can take care of himself. He's better at that than I am.

Gunter's changed a bit, too. It's weird to see him so serious all the time. I'm used to hearing him shout for me and making a mess of everything when he thinks I've gone missing or something. It's hard to think of him doing things like that now. He's almost a completely different person. If I hadn't seen him like this before, I probably wouldn't think it was really him.

I haven't seen Yozak since we first got here, but I'm sure he'd randomly pop up out of nowhere if I needed him, just like he always does. Conrad said he's been doing a little spying, which I guess is a good idea even though I worry about him being caught. But when has Yozak ever not been able to get out of a sticky situation, right?

I've been helping Gisela out as much as I can with what little medical knowledge I have. I could tell she was mad at me when I first got here, but I like to think I've been more of a benefit than anything else. It's hard seeing people come in so badly wounded. I felt sick the first couple of days, but now I've gotten used to it, or as used to it as I can. I don't like it but I'm dealing with it. That's all I can do at the moment anyway.

Gisela wears herself out a lot. I've had to tell her to stop and rest plenty of times already. Sometimes I worry that she might end up pushing herself past her limit if I didn't, even if I know that she's smarter than that. She's taught me how to splint broken limbs and how to stitch up wounds, and since my magic is stronger than hers I know she's grown to like having me around. There are a lot of healers at the medical station, but still not enough for all the people that are brought in. Everyone's always rushing around, trying to do more than two things at once.

I miss you. I'm so used to you being with me all the time that I expect you to come dashing around the corner at any minute. But don't! I want you to stay there. I swear you'll regret it if you try to sneak out like you've done before. I totally beat you the first time we dueled, and I could win in a fight against you again if I had to. You're better off at home. I know you'd only end up pushing yourself passed your limit, too.

And I promise I'm not cheating on you with any of the pretty nurses, or with another soldier, so don't start worrying about things like that either! Except one of the girls I was helping out yesterday was pretty cute! I'm just kidding! Stop glaring, I know you are. You should know by now that I'd never do something like that to you. I can be a jerk sometimes, but even you have to admit I'm not that bad. If I haven't proven myself to you already, then I don't know what to do to make you realize that there isn't anyone else.

How are things going back home? Is Gwendal still being a grumpy jerk? I know he's your older brother and you want to do right by him, but don't let him push you around, okay? Threaten him with Anissina or something, that always works. He's got the best interests of the kingdom in mind, but so do you and I. Just do what you think should be done and don't worry about anything else. I know you'll do the right thing, even if Gwendal doesn't think so.

How's your mother doing, by the way? She was a lot more subdued than usual when I left. Seeing her like that was almost as weird as seeing Gunter now. Tell her that everything's fine here and that Conrad's doing a good job, because I know she's probably scared for him, too.

Is Greta okay? She seemed fine when she wrote back to me, but I just want to make sure. I hope she's not too upset about me leaving. Make sure to remind her that I love her and that I'm thinking about her, and that I'll come home soon.

I've been thinking about you a lot, too, and it makes me feel better knowing that you're safe. I know why you wanted to come, and I know it's your duty to protect me, but you've done it so much already and I would have felt terrible if you got hurt again. I know you're strong, and I know you're a whole lot better at these things than I am, but I really want to be the one doing the protecting this time. I'm tired of sitting around and watching everyone else sacrifice themselves for me. I should be making some sacrifices, too. I just hope you'll understand.

Take care.

- Yuuri

When he had finished, Wolfram became aware of the wide smile that had broke out along his face. He wasn't satisfied with stopping there and wished that Yuuri had written more, though he'd scrawled across two entire sheets of parchment. He appeased himself by reading through the letter again, hearing Yuuri's voice in his head. If he concentrated hard enough on the thought of his husband, he could pretend that he was right next to him instead of miles away.

After his third read-through, he folded the paper up again, clutching it tightly in his hands and letting the warm feeling it invoked wash over him.

"Well?" Elizabeth prompted him, attempting to insinuate herself into his business once again. This time Wolfram couldn't spare the time to be annoyed. "What did it say?"

He shook his head but didn't answer her.

"Where are you going?" she questioned him again when he began heading for the door, leaving his plate of food mostly uneaten on the table.

"Don't wait for me. Finish your dinner," he said. He left the room before she, Greta or Murata could say anything else, suddenly giddy, and he had to try very hard not to begin running down the hallway.

His mood has just improved drastically. Yuuri's letter was unexpected, and not all of what had been written in it was positive, but it was definitely not unwelcome, and Wolfram had every intention of sending his reply before the night was through.

Releasing a soft sigh, Yuuri looked over the familiar writing. He'd come to a pause in the middle of the medical tent when one of the soldiers had brought the letter to him, and he took the time to let everything else fade into the background while he focused on more pleasant thoughts and feelings. He noted the roundness of the letters and how the stems swirled, and how his name looked so neat and beautiful when written by someone more accustomed to using a quill.

Yuuri,

You are the biggest wimp I have ever had the opportunity to meet.

He stopped to laugh. The language was so habitual and yet, now that there had been some progress, it was strangely intimate. At the same time, it was painful to see Wolfram's favored insult written on paper instead of shouted in his ear, as he would have preferred it.

You don't have to do something like this in order to protect me. I want you home where I can keep an eye on you and make sure you're not lying about being fine. You've had me worried the last few months. I rarely know what to expect from you anymore. Sometimes you're the same as you've always been, but then there are other times when you don't act like yourself.

I wish you had let me go with you, though I know one of us should stay behind, even if Gwendal is perfectly capable of taking care of business without us. Of course he's still in a foul mood, and Mother claims he has a few more wrinkles, but since I signed the Declaration he hasn't made me do anything else. He's been staying up late every evening, long after I go to bed, probably making sure I haven't done anything too horrible. I still don't think he trusts me to make good decisions on my own. He's convinced that you and I are still too young to rule effectively. It makes me angry. I'm not a child and I don't appreciate being treated as one.

Mother is fine. She's doing what she can to help here, but there really isn't much more for her to do. It reminds me of how she was during the last war, only last time I hardly even saw her. Stoffel tended to keep her isolated from everyone so she couldn't be persuaded into doing something other than what he wanted her to do. I can't help but think that Mother believes this war to be her fault as well, like it's somehow connected with what happened twenty-four years ago. She forgets that Isidore is the main cause of our troubles this time, not Cimaron.

Anissina hasn't been doing any new experiments as far as I'm aware, which I'm sure is a relief to Gwendal. Instead, she's been communicating with a couple of our territories as well as making sure our allies remain informed of the current circumstances. She's just as loud as a diplomat as she is as an inventor, I'm afraid. I think she wishes she could be more useful, but Gwendal will only allow her to do so much. Anissina claims it's proof of his prejudices against women, but I don't want to give her more power than she already has either.

When she's not working, she and Greta are usually with Alexei. He's really a very sweet boy, though I still don't know why he acts the way he does around you, besides the fact that you're a complete idiot. You've never had a way with children. You simply got lucky with Greta. I've given Alexei Greta's old playroom. I hope you don't mind. Greta no longer uses it and was the one to suggest it in the first place, so I thought it might be a nice gift to our new nephew.

Your Sage has actually been decently helpful, although I would appreciate it if you didn't tell him I said that (I would also appreciate it if you refrained from talking to him about our relationship, but I'll wait until you get home to yell at you about that).

Yuuri winced, having forgotten that he'd made mention of the changes in their relationship to Murata. It hadn't been much - he wasn't comfortable sharing too many of the details - but apparently Wolfram had found out he'd made a couple of comments. Damn Murata for not being able to keep his mouth shut. Of course, he didn't know what else he could have expected.

When he's not at the Temple with Ulrike doing whatever the hell it is he does there, he's gotten into the habit of taking up Gunter's place here. He and Gwendal like to strategize and the Sage will report their plans to me, whereas Gwendal probably would have gone on without my say so. The Sage seems to be one of the few people who believe that you and I have the ability to rule. Many are already beginning to have their doubts. The Aristocrats are angry that you've gone away at a time like this, even if you've gone to join the war that they wanted.

Greta misses you, but your letter helped to ease her worries. It amazes me how easy it is for her to overcome what happened before. For it being such a traumatic experience, she's handled it very well, better than I have, I think. It makes me feel ashamed to know that she's gotten along better, but I'm proud of her at the same time. I hope you are, too. She really is her father's daughter.

I try to spend as much time with her as I can. I know she gets lonely. I did during the last war. Everyone else was either fighting or taking care of business in the castle. I don't want Greta to feel like I did. We don't go outside much since it's so dangerous, but I make sure to eat with her and spend time with her after dinner every night. Sometimes we'll go to the playroom with Alexei, or we'll just sit and talk. She's grown up so much, and so quickly, too. I often miss the days when she was just a little girl. I don't think either of us had enough time with her before she grew up.

I miss you, too. It's hard to sleep at night. I keep thinking that something could happen, even though I know you're relatively safe at the medical station. I want to see you and make sure that you really are doing well. You have no idea how worried it makes me to hear about the battles and know how close you are to them, and not think that something horrible has happened. Don't do anything stupid, wimp, or I'll make sure that you pay for it whenever you get back.

I was happy when your letter came. I truly hadn't expected you to write to me. After the engagement and then our wedding, I thought writing letters would be a little too much for you. I know things have begun to change between us, but I still don't know how close is too close for you. I want you to be comfortable. I don't want to do anything that you don't like or don't want. It makes me nervous when I think that things might be going too quickly. I'm not trying to force you away, nor am I trying to drag you into something you don't want.

I'm glad you wrote to me, because at least I know you're thinking about me, even if only a little bit. I think of you all the time, and knowing you are as well makes me feel a little better about the situation we're in, like it will work itself out. I wish you thought of me more. I am your husband, after all.

Stay safe, wimp. Tell Gisela to take it easy and make sure you don't worry Gunter. He's no good to anyone when he's in a panic. I'm sure I don't have to worry about Yozak at all, but if you see him then make sure he knows I said to look out for you. And tell Conrart not to make Mother or anyone else worry. He does that too much, and so do you. The two of you are more alike than you think.

I love you, and I'll be here waiting for you to come home.

Yours,

Wolfram

P.S. You had better come back soon.

The letter emboldened him, gave him strength. Even though Wolfram wasn't here for him to feed off of his confidence, his husband's words had the same effect. Wolfram hadn't said as much, but he knew his friend believed in him. He might not understand or agree with his decision - he probably didn't see any point in his coming out here - but he still believed that he could do it. Wolfram had always been and always would be his greatest supporter.

Folding the parchment back up and slipping it between his chainmail and breastplate, Yuuri brought himself back to the present and looked around the medical tent to remind himself of what he was supposed to be doing. The tent was lined with cots, very few of which were empty. Most contained injured soldiers from the battlefield, or civilians that had been caught up in the fighting. Gisela was seeing to a man with an injured leg, while other healers were caring for patients with similar wounds.

Today he'd been given the task of checking on some of their older patients who were still waiting for their wounds to heal, to see if they'd made any progress or if further action would be necessary. Sometimes the news he had to give the men wasn't what he would prefer, but he liked going around and talking to them. It was easier than seeing fresh wounds and setting limbs, and it gave him the opportunity to express his appreciation for the men who've sacrificed so much for his kingdom.

He made his way over to the soldier he'd been heading for before he'd been distracted by the letter, putting a smile on his face and he dragged a wooden chair over to the bedside in order to sit down. He made a point of sitting with each of them and talking for a few moments, as well as learning each man's name. It made things more personal, and would probably make it even harder on him if things started going badly, but he refused to treat them as random people. They were his friends, not just his subjects. Every man who fought for him deserved the consideration of being acknowledged as an individual.

"How are you doing today, Karl?" he asked, reaching out to place a hand over the man's injured arm, using his magic to sense and increase the rate of healing.

Karl Brant was one of the few he'd met since coming here that didn't seem to feel as uncomfortable as others were with having the King see to their wounds. Some of the injured soldiers could hardly speak to him for fear of saying something wrong - though he'd reassured them that they could say whatever they wanted. Karl had been open and friendly since the moment he'd been brought in, and Yuuri enjoyed the time he spent treating him. A Thatcher by trade, Karl had recently enlisted in the army, only to have his left arm severely injured.

"Well enough, I'd say," was his good-natured reply. His short brown hair was matted, some of it covered by a bandage wrapped around his head, and his face was rough with whiskers. He was exceptionally tall, with wide shoulders and a thick chest, and a long, crooked nose. He wasn't as handsome as Gwendal or Conrad - Yuuri sometimes thought Karl looked something like a bear - but he had the brightest blue eyes Yuuri had ever seen in a person. They twinkled with mirth almost endlessly, and fastened on Yuuri as if he was just another man. "A letter from your sweetheart?"

Yuuri smiled at the question, nodding lightly. "From Wolfram, yes."

"Must be nice to hear from 'im. 'S always nice getting letters from home."

"Your home isn't that far from here, is it?" It surprised him how many different people came from so many different places, though he knew his kingdom was vast - fifty-million people in ten different territories, plus the main territory where the capital and Blood Pledge Castle were located.

"You can see it when yer outside. Just to the west."

"Do you have a family?"

Karl's lips stretched beneath his beard. "My wife, Nastia. We have a son, born about three years ago. Name's Merriel. We call 'im Merry. He's a good boy, energetic, playful, always laughin'. He was born a bit early and needed a healer to keep 'im alive, so 's good to see 'im healthy now."

"You miss them," Yuuri observed. Pining away for his own family, he could easily recognize the same longing in others.

"'Course I do. Don't you miss yer husband an' yer girl?"

"All the time."

"Only difference 'tween you an' me is you didn't have to come out here if you didn't want to. You could be with 'em now instead."

"Isn't it the same for you? Couldn't you be at home with your wife and son? You said you weren't a soldier before the war."

"I wasn't. Only experience I've had is in our militia. But healers are expensive and Nastia and I owe one a lot of money for keepin' our boy alive. Thatching roofs wasn't bringin' in enough money. I enlisted to help pay off our debt."

"That's horrible. I mean, to owe someone so much just because you wanted to keep your baby alive." He didn't know a healer who'd be heartless enough to let a baby die just because the parents couldn't pay up. Gisela definitely wouldn't do something like that.

"It was our choice."

"But if you hadn't, wouldn't he have died?"

"Many children die before they're more than babes, Yer Majesty, 'specially out in the country. I had two brothers that both died before they were fifty. Life's as dangerous as war. Illness'll kill as many people. Merry just happened to be born at a time when the healers were busy, right after you opened them boxes. Lots of people were hurt fightin' whatever those things were. 'S where I got this from," he said, lifting the hand of his good arm and pointing to a scar across his collarbone. "It cost more for the healer to spend so much time with Merry when there were other people she could've been seein' to, other people who could've paid 'er."

"I would have done it for the baby, not for the money." If he was only three years old, Karl's son must still be very small, unless his wife had human blood in her. It seemed heartless to him for someone to ignore a child in favor of making more money.

"That's not how the world works, Yer Majesty. Be nice if it was, but it isn't, so you've gotta do what you've gotta do. Me an' Nastia don't regret it. We've got a decent home and a healthy boy. As long as we can make sure he lives a good life, we'll be happy. You can work for more money; you can't replace yer son." He paused, looking at the arm currently enveloped by the green light form Yuuri's palm. "'Course now I've gone an' hurt myself. Can't be much help to anyone 'til I heal up."

"If your village is so close, why don't you have your wife and son come visit?"

Karl laughed, but it was good-natured, like everything he did. "Are you kiddin'? It may be close enough to see, but it's too dangerous for a woman and a babe to come out here on their own. You never know when the battle will come closer to home. I told Nastia to stay an' keep Merry safe."

Frowning, Yuuri paused to think on it for a few moments, before posing an offer. "I could send some soldiers out to escort them here." It would take some planning seeing as the soldiers had other duties and couldn't be spared from them for long just for a mission of goodwill, but if he could organize it and send some men out when they weren't busy, it would only take a couple of hours for his wife and child to be escorted to the medical station.

Karl seemed to consider, his smile fading a bit as he shook his head. "I don't want to be receivin' any special treatment, Yer Majesty."

"You won't be. Some of the others have had family members come see them. It's not right that you can't see your wife and son at a time like this. A visit from them will probably make you feel a lot better, and might even help you heal faster."

"I feel better knowing that no harm's come to them. Makes fightin' this war worthwhile, knowing the ones you care about are safe. I don't like war; I know a lot of us don't. Yer not alone in that. 'S hard to keep goin' sometimes and it's only just started, but when I think about Nastia an' Merry, it makes it all worth it." He trailed off, thinking again, then shook his head a second time. "But if it wouldn't be too much trouble… I'd like to see 'em. I want to see my wife smile an' hear my boy laugh."

Yuuri could understand that feeling very well. He wanted to see Wolfram smile, and watch Greta dance around and play, happy and free from worries.

"It wouldn't be too much trouble at all," he said. "I'll see what I can do."

Scene temporarily removed. See profile for explanation.

Wolfram,

You warned me that I'd have to see people die while I was out here, and even though I believed you, I guess I never realized how much death there would actually be. I don't regret coming to help, and I understand now that war can't be prevented all the time, but it hurts to watch our people die. I've seen more than I thought I would have to in the medical station, and it makes me sick to watch men as young as you and I lose their lives. Maybe I was stupid to believe that I'd be able to handle it. I know that you would probably do better than I have.

I feel like a coward. All of these men are risking everything, fighting in a war some of them didn't even want, and I wonder if there's more I should be doing. I'm their king, and all I do is sit around and watch them die for me. I can sit next to them so they're not alone when they pass on, but I can't do anything to save or avenge them. I feel like they're dying for nothing, and it makes me angry at myself for being so weak. I should be doing more to protect them.

I've met so many different people, and it seems like all of them have a different reason for coming to war. Some of them had nothing else, some of them joined for honor and glory, and then there are others who joined because they don't have enough money at home. They left their families behind, and some of them will never make it back, but all of them have a reason for it.

Sometimes I hear the older men telling stories about the last war, and it sounds so awful I wonder how they can stand going through it again. I've heard a lot of stories about Conrad, and when I look at him and Yozak and Gunter, I wonder how they can do this without thinking about the past. I wish I could be as strong as they are. Standing next to them and knowing about the things they've gone though makes me admire them more than I did before.

It's hard to sleep at night when I can hear the injured soldiers groaning in pain. I try to think of happier things to block it all out, but it doesn't always work. I have dreams like I did on our wedding night, and it just makes me feel like all of this is my fault. If I'd done something to stop Cimaron and Isidore sooner, would things be this bad now? If I'd let Gwendal and the others convince me to sign a Declaration before you did, would things be any better?

But then if I'd let them convince me sooner, you and I might never have even gotten married. I don't really know what to think about that. I didn't want to get married at the time, not like that, but I don't mind it now. I still think we should have waited longer. We should have been able to try what we're doing now before getting married, but I don't think I would go back and change it if I could. I might change some things, but not that. I care about you and I feel comfortable with you now. We just have to work on everything else.

I've heard a lot of the soldiers talking about how they have people to fight for, family and friends they'd die to protect. If I ever had to fight, I know it would be for you and Greta. In this world, you're my family. Maybe the engagement and the wedding weren't completely intentional, but everything we have now is.

When Conrad told me about the night you and Greta were attacked, I wasn't angry just because you didn't tell me about it, or because you didn't plan on telling me about it, but because they hurt you and I wasn't there to protect you. You call me a wimp and maybe I am. I know you can defend yourself, but I want to now. Maybe you'd rather not be protected by someone like me seeing as I'm not that strong, but I have to do this for you, and for myself.

I know I'm being selfish. I know this isn't the smartest thing I've ever done. I know there's a big chance that I'll fail and prove to everyone that I'm just a stupid kid. Gwendal will probably end up being right in the end, just like he always is. But I still have to take that risk. I have to grow up sometime, don't I? And if I never try, how am I ever going to know for sure if I'm able to do it or not?

That's the same question Shori asked me when I went to Earth. It's taken me this long to realize that he was right.

- Yuuri

Another letter came to Yuuri late one night, three weeks into his time at the medical station. The stars were out and the wind blew cold, and the moon was crescent shaped in the darkened sky. He was sitting outside by a fire, looking into the bright red and orange flames, when a soldier brought it over to him and then bowed himself away. Carefully he broke the seal, melted wax pressed with his own crest, and spread the paper out onto his knees.

To my husband,

No matter what happens between now and the time when you finally come home, know that I am proud of you.

I don't say that simply to make you feel better, but because every word of it is true. In the fours years that I've known you, you have grown from a young, ignorant and naïve boy into a brave man. When we first met, I never would have thought that you would grow into the sort of king this country needs. I hoped. I've never stopped hoping, but you know where my hopes have led me before.

Gwendal, Conrart, Gunter and I have not always acted in ways to accommodate your growth. We've often sheltered you, so that you can maintain your innocence and naïveté, never thinking that we were doing more harm than good. I admit that is part of the reason I thought not to tell you about what happened to Greta and me, and why I failed to initially agree with your desire to go to war. I wanted to protect you from the truth, from the feelings and realizations you would have as you gained more knowledge of the world.

As you've grown more in recent months, I've been afraid of the changes taking place within you. I love you for who you are, for the reckless things you do, for your innocent beliefs and your idealistic goals, and for the simplicity you bring to everything. Our relationship is complicated, but our friendship has been the easiest companionship I have ever taken part in with anyone. I can be who I am around you and not feel ashamed for it. With you, I am not a soldier or a petty nobleman; I am not Gwendal's brother or Conrart's charity case; I am not my father's neglected son or my mother's doll. With you, I am everything I have always wanted to become but never had the chance to be. I am a person. I am a man. I am someone who hopes and fears and dreams. I am someone who loves.

I don't want that to change. I don't want you to change, because then what if I'm unable to be as I am anymore? But now I realize that no matter what you face, no matter how you grow, you will never be anything but Yuuri to me.

I apologize if this seems sudden, or if the expression of my love in so many words is too much for you, but after reading your letter and sensing your sorrow and doubt, I thought you might need to be reminded of how much you've come to mean to me. I grow anxious writing this, though it's easier to find the words when I have time to think instead of speaking with you face-to-face and needing an explanation on the spot.

You are not selfish, Yuuri. You are coming into your own. Your decision may not be wise, but your intentions are genuine, as they have always been. You may fail in this; I can't pretend that failure is not a possibility, but you will have learned something either way, and you will have proven yourself to be a stronger man than any of us have ever expected of you. That is something to be proud of, it is something for all of us to be proud of, even if you are unable to reach the goals you've set for yourself.

You've taught me that it is our failures as much as our successes that make us who were are. I pray that you never forget that. A boy is not man until he can learn to accept the things he cannot change, and make the most of them.

Think of me when you are sad or afraid. Remember how much I cherish you. I may be husband to you in words alone, but you are mine at heart.

All my love,

Wolfram

The creases in the parchment were a bit sloppy, as if it had been folded quickly to prevent Wolfram from rethinking his decision to send it. He stared at the words for some time, letting the feelings behind them fill him with their passion and devotion, before folding it back up. He held it in his hands, looking at the broken seal and thinking about what Wolfram had said to him, before bringing the parchment to his lips and kissing it softly.

'You're mine at heart, too, Wolfram.'

Wolfram,

Your last letter couldn't have come at a better time. Don't worry that it was too much for me to read. Months ago, maybe it would have been, but I need it now.

Yesterday, we had to cut off a man's arm. It was the worse thing I've ever had to do.

"When exactly does His Majesty plan on returning? Has he not been gone long enough?"

Disturbed from reading Yuuri's most recent letter, Wolfram glanced up to stare at the woman currently raving in the middle of the room. He'd been listening to similar things all day, as the Aristocrats not leading troops of soldiers had felt the need to intrude upon him and express their displeasure in a series of heated comments. Griselda von Hassel was merely the most recent one, and though he'd made attempts to ignore her ranting, her shrill voice made it difficult to pretend as if she wasn't there.

The woman stood before his desk, stuffed into a dress of puffy skirts and an abundance of lace, her mousy brown hair pulled up into a style she probably thought was flattering but what did little to better her appearance. Her usual makeup was caked onto her face, bright paste coating her lips and red splotches on her cheeks, over flesh colored powder that unsuccessfully covered her many wrinkles. Her numerous rings flashed in the light of the setting sun as her hands waved in her unhappiness.

She was glaring at Gwendal, shouting her words up at him instead of in Wolfram's direction, but her loud voice was not easily drowned out. Wolfram was amazed that Gwendal could stand there so still and unemotional while this deranged woman screamed in his face.

"The King will return whenever he sees fit, as is his right," his eldest brother intoned tiredly.

"We did not agree to this war so that he may go off and play nursemaid to common men!"

"Why then did you agree to this war, Lady von Hassel?"

"To uphold our honor! Isidore insults us! We must not bend to Lyron's will! If His Majesty intends to influence events in this war, then he must use his powers and go into battle, or return here where we can keep our eyes on him!"

"And manipulate him the way you manipulated me?" Wolfram wondered aloud, lowering the parchment he'd been reading over and setting it on Yuuri's desk. Griselda turned to him, her mouth curved into a heavy frown. "Lady von Hassel, I don't see you on the field of battle," he observed.

"We women have no business involving ourselves in warfare."

Gwendal barely held back a snort. "I fear there are many here who would not agree with you."

The distaste she felt for the women he spoke of was clear on Griselda's face. "Cecilie and that Karbelnikoff girl are hardly honorable women."

Something inside of Wolfram caught fire, and his gaze narrowed. "You speak to me of honor when you and your aristocratic partners used underhanded means to achieve the signing of a Declaration of War, so as to send poorer and less fortunate men to fight your battles for you?"

The agreement of the Aristocrats during the ceremony in the Temple of the Great One was no longer a mystery to him. The truth behind it had come to light the evening Gwendal had confronted him with the Declaration. If they had not thought he would sign it, few of them would have agreed to his marriage with Yuuri, and it most likely would not have taken place. They had used him in their goals for war, without considering his own feelings or desires.

"If anyone has shown a shred of honor in this situation, it's Yuuri," he said. Yuuri had followed through with everything that had been expected of him, no matter what the cost to himself. "He is facing his responsibilities. What do you do beside gorge yourself on food that should be going to the soldiers and complaining that things are not being handled accordingly? If you think you could do better, why not prove to us that what you say is not all talk?"

Griselda's face grew red, her plump body shaking as her expression became livid. "H-How… how dare you? You ungrateful wretch! If it were not for me, if it were not for great men such as your uncle von Bielefeld and Lord von Mannheim, you would not be sitting there in your cushioned chair with all those jewels on your head!" Her bulging eyes flickered up to his crown. "Do you wear that because it makes you feel pretty? Because it makes you feel important?" she asked patronizingly.

Wolfram stared at her levelly. "I wear it to remind disloyal members of the Court, such as yourself, that Yuuri left me in charge until he returns."

"Disloyal?" Griselda shrieked. "You have the audacity to call me disloyal?"

"You've given me no reason to think otherwise," he told her evenly.

"You miserable little bitch!" she spat. "We made you Prince Consort, and we can tear you down just as easily! What more are you than a bastard? Everyone knows your fool of a father and harlot of a mother were not married when they conceived a pathetic little thing like you! You're hardly fit to rule this country! The son of a murderer and a whore, that's all you are! I will never understand why His Majesty has taken such a liking to you, but mark my words! It will not last long!"

Wolfram was hardly impressed. Everything she shouted was nothing he hadn't heard before. "If you're quite done, you may leave," he commanded, tired of listening to her screeching. "I have better things to do than listen to a harpy squawk."

Griselda straightened, the color of her face nearing purple. "You'd do well to heed my warning, Bastard von Bielefeld. Your downfall will come as quickly as your rise!" Turning on the heels of her expensive shoes, Griselda flounced out of the room in a rage, slamming the door behind her once she and her voluminous skirts had left.

Gwendal sighed once she had gone, standing beside Yuuri's desk as Wolfram sat behind it. He did not appear all that bothered by the incident, but his wrinkles were showing through more than usual. He looked tired, his age more obvious in his fatigue. "It would be dangerous to make enemies of the Aristocrats, Wolfram," he cautioned him. He didn't not sound especially worried, nor was he angry, but the warning was still there.

Wolfram shrugged. "Griselda is one of ten." Six of the ten were required if any of them planned on rising against him. He hardly thought Griselda capable of convincing five others.

"She is not the only," Gwendal countered. "Von Mannheim holds no compassion for you due to his anger towards your father, von Bielefeld would sooner strike you down with his own hands that accept you as his nephew, and Yale and Grantz hold little love for you."

"I still have Voltaire, Karbelnikoff, Christ, Wincott and Spitzweg on my side." Some of them may often question him, but their loyalty to Yuuri was such that they wouldn't raise a hand against him so long as he was Yuuri's husband.

Gwendal's frown remained. "You know better than to place so much faith in Stoffel. He may be Mother's kin, just as he may support His Majesty, but he is not overly fond of you and he is easily swayed. If he believes the other five can offer him more than His Majesty does currently, he would consider defecting. Then you would have more than half of the Aristocrats against you."

Wolfram's face fell into a frown that matched Gwendal's, his eyes shifting down to the unread letter resting in front of him. "The Aristocrats have grown too powerful."

He'd always questioned the way in which the country did its business, ever since he'd witnessed the tragic events of the previous war. The vote of six out of the ten Aristocrats was needed in order to accomplish anything important, but that vote was easily gained or withheld through treacherous means. Threats and promises for payment were exchanged in return for support, and opinions were twisted and forced to abide by those of others. Stoffel had manipulated the Aristocrats in the past, getting enough on his side to gain power and forcing the rest into silence.

But what need should a king have for such methods of governing? Their council should be accepted, as they ruled the regions of the Great Demon Kingdom and knew best what needed to be done in those territories, but to give them so much power, for them to have the ability to place their needs and ambitions above the good of the country, it seemed to be more trouble than it was worth. Should the king not be able to make the decisions unconditionally, in response to the advise given to him by those who oversaw his territories?

"You propose stripping them of their power?" Gwendal questioned him, his blue eyes sharp and calculating.

"Would it be so bad if Yuuri was to rule absolutely, without their agreement or approval? He would have the overwhelming support of the people, who love him more than they do their aristocratic lords. As long as he has good council, I don't see why he shouldn't have supreme power and authority."

"You fail to see the danger in what you suggest, Wolfram. The Aristocrats have their own supporters, their own armies. Secession has already been threatened, and though it has never happened before, it remains a possibility. If you and His Majesty anger them more, it could prove disastrous."

"But don't you think they've grown too influential in the decision-making process? Wouldn't it be easier to pass legislation and enforce laws if their agreement wasn't necessary?" he asked. It seemed obvious to him that Gwendal did not always favor the views of his counterparts. "Acquiring the support and approval of the majority is not always easy."

Gwendal seemed to take his comments into account, pausing to silently think them over. "It is true that our disagreements often serve to be detrimental," he agreed, having expressed his anger over the arguing between the Aristocrats many times before. "However, it is also true that alienating them has the potential of leading our country into ruin. The Great Demon Kingdom has been governed by King and Aristocrats for four-thousand years. Changing that so quickly would lead to confusion and chaos."

"Yet it's something to consider, isn't it?"

Wolfram looked up again to see his older brother watching him closely, as if he'd not expected such an idea to come from him and wasn't sure how to answer the charge presented to him. It was the first time Wolfram had ever expressed his political opinions to either one of his brothers. Considering both Gwendal and Conrart were better versed in politics than he was, he hadn't thought before that any of his opinions were valid.

"Yes, it is something to consider," Gwendal allowed.

Pleased that he was being taken seriously and not questioned or put down for his views, Wolfram offered his brother a small smile. The steps he was taking may be small, but perhaps he was beginning to prove himself to the older man. If he could show that he was capable of being a fair and just ruler, no matter how he went about doing so, Gwendal might no longer regret his decision of making him Prince Consort.

It would be a small victory, but it would be a source of pride to have his brother thinking well of him again.

The moment ended when there was a knock on the door, their eye contact breaking as they both turned to see who would speak with them next.

"Enter," the older man said, and Wolfram sat up straighter in his chair to greet their newest guest.

A soldier entered, bowed, then spoke. "Your Majesty, Your Excellency," he began, "von Grantz requests an audience with you."

Gwendal's sigh of annoyance was audible. "First Griselda and now Marlena," he muttered to himself before responding to the soldier. "Tell her we've had enough for one day and will speak with her tomorrow if she has more than complaints to issue."

The soldier shifted in place uncomfortably while Wolfram lowered his gaze back down to his letter, taking it in hand to continue while his brother dealt with denying entry to yet another angered noble lady.

"It's not Lady Marlena, Your Excellency," the soldier contradicted him. "It's Lord Adalbert."

The letter fell out of Wolfram's hand to flutter down onto the desk, his eyes widening as he looked back up at his brother.

Adalbert had not been to the Blood Pledge Castle since he'd left it and abandoned the kingdom twenty-four years ago. He'd done much in aiding Yuuri over the years, and could even be considered an ally, but he'd chosen to remain in his village of roughnecks and vagabonds in the human lands, even after Yuuri had pardoned his crimes of desertion. They'd received little word from him since then, and had not expected him to involve himself in the conflict at present.

Gwendal appeared just as surprised as Wolfram felt. His eyes had not widened and his expression remained neutral, but his stance was tense, his back rigid as one of his hands twitched by his side. He met Wolfram's gaze, and there was a question in his eyes: should they see him?

Wolfram was unsure of how to answer him, but finally decided to do what he knew Yuuri would have done if he'd been there. He nodded.

Gwendal returned the gesture, before relaying their decision to the soldier. "Send him in."

TBC…