Greetings, my friends! Well, here is chapter five, and I am going to take a moment to sincerely apologize. First of all, this story is running away with me…I feel like I'm riding Ao and he just rocked the bit in his teeth and took off running. I have started so many subplots that this tale is going to take a while to finish. But, I just don't want to wrap this up with a quick "They fucked and lived happily every after." So, bear with me…and for pervy RH888 who is going to yell at me because there is a place for a lemon in here and I chose to let it go (even though it really wasn't me, because Gunter just wants their first time to be special, so take it up with him—k, thanks! TeeHee, j/k), because it would have cheapened the story. Damn you Gunter!! You just have to be a sexy gentleman, doncha?? I'll be answering reviews later tonight, and I will post my gunter-centric episodes that I'm using as a character base in the next chap. I do a lot of this from memory, so I have to look them back up. And also, just to point out my agreement with C. Reed about Gunter's voice actor this is just a very quick note to say that Kazuhiko Inoue, who voices Gunter, has also played Aion in Chrno Crusade—quite possibly the sexiest, most lethal, absolutely heartless devil…ever. le sigh The voice actor is, in fact, amazing. And I actually think that is true of all the KKM voice actors—talk about a consistently brilliant cast? It makes it easier for me to write fics in a way because I think about the inflection of the voices and what they might say in other situations—and hence, my own backstories are born. Ok, so…is that it then? I think so! I don't own the Maou, and I'll see you at the bottom of the page…P.S. I really have been trying to put this chapter up, but the site has been blocking me…sorry!!
The Twelfth Treasure of Shin Makoku – A Fairy Tale
…It is in the cold, grey hours of early morning that silent love is often made. The time that stretches between the comfort of sleep and the raucous beginning of the day seems to have no beginning and ends slowly on the edge of a kiss. In this state, between waking and dreaming, did the beautiful demon lord find himself reunited with the one he loved best. The demon-king, having faced many dangers, showing great courage in the face of them, had found his lord again, and felt, once more, a heart beating in his chest.
But, the run-away courtier was not free, yet, in his heart. Though the shackles that had bound his spirit had been released by his king's love, desire, and devotion, the demon lord still had trials to face before he could grant the king that which he desired most—his hand. Though unaware of the full extent of the scheming by the jealous prince, the demon lord knew there were forces working against him, but he had learned a valuable lesson—one he should have learned long before his flight from the king's side—that one should rely upon those who love you, for they are your strongest support. The beautiful mazoku, with his eyes shining like brilliant gemstones remembered, then, his friends…not only the handsome demon-king, but the brave soldier, the daring spy, and the implacable general. The measure of a demon's life is not in how many centuries that creature survives, but in how well that demon is loved. Against this yardstick, the beautiful lord realized, he was a wealthy man indeed.
Yet, as he tenderly touched the face of his ruler, the young boy-king of the demon nation, the lord knew that he had also done the mazoku a great wrong—for his actions had placed his king in danger, and such danger could not be left to walk the worlds. He looked out upon the open land and considered the malevolent forces that were still gathered to make another attack…if only to protect his love, the one being who caused the beat of his heart and the rushing of his blood, then he would make any sacrifice, and count the cost as nothing. He knew, then, that there would be a terrible battle—this was not unexpected, but he would joyously accept what small measure of time he had, uninterrupted, with his love before he must take up arms again…
--O.o.O--
Part Five: As Every Farmer Knows…the most beautiful flowers begin their lives covered in crap.
Our lives are made in these small hours, these little wonders, these twists and turns of fate—Rob Thomas
There are more pleasant things to do than beat up people—Muhammed Ali
He who loves the world as his body may be entrusted with the empire—Lao-tzu
"Gwen? Gwen, darling? Are you awake?"
Gwendal squeezed his eyes closed and nuzzled deeper into the covers. OF COURSE he was awake. How was he supposed to sleep when Anissina had been stroking the back of his neck for ten minutes, then letting her fingers trail down the length of his spine and walk back up again? But just because he was conscious didn't mean he wanted to be.
"Gwen…do you know how much I love you?"
"Enough to let me sleep?" he asked, hoping, for once, to be allowed his slumber undisturbed.
"Even more than that," Anissina said, licking his ear. "I love you enough to tell you what happened yesterday."
The ear licking. Always with the ear licking, he thought, as he melted, again, and rolled over to take his lovely Anissina in his arms.
Gwendal Von Voltaire had been, for the vast majority of his life, a solitary man. He was good at it, too. From a very early age, he had been given responsibilities that many older, more mature mazoku had failed to discharge. But, where others had stumbled, he had succeeded. He had a reputation amongst certain human governments as being a monster—a demon to be feared. Some called him Von Voltaire the widow-maker, Von Voltaire the demon scourge, even Von Voltaire the ruthless. He knew that even some of his own people—especially those under his command—used him as an almost fictitious bogey-man to scare their children into good behavior. "You'd better do as your mother says, or General Von Voltaire will come in the night and grind your bones for his tea." He didn't like the appellations, or the reputation, but they had served him well. Sometimes, it had been his reputation alone that had prevented conflicts. However, he mused, if any of the people who were so afraid of him could see what he was really like, he was sure he would be called Von Voltaire the cuddlekins. It really was more than any self-respecting demon should have to take.
"Tell me what happened yesterday," he said, giving up any hope of further rest.
Anissina nuzzled against his chest. "I had tea with Ulrike-sama, and she told me that…"
"You had tea with Ulrike-sama?" He asked, surprised. "Do you do that often?"
He felt his lover nod against his chest. "MmmHmm. I feel it my duty to bring some measure of progress to Shinou's shrine, after all. Poor Ulrike has been the slave, if you ask me, of that chauvinist Shinou for more than eight hundred years! Unfortunately, that means the habits she's developed are deeply ingrained, but I'm sure with my continued tutelage, she will soon see that emancipation is not too much to ask. Now that we have Yuuri-heika, I'm sure things will change. But you're missing the point, Gwen. It's not that I had tea with Ulrike that is important, but what she said that matters."
"What did she say?"
"Apparently Wolfram traveled to earth yesterday. She said that he intends to tell Yuuri-heika's family about the broken engagement, but she is far too trusting. I don't think that's Wolfram's intention at all."
Gwendal closed his eyes against the headache he felt coming on. It just wasn't fair. "I have had exactly two hours of sleep, thanks to the fact there was a fire in the village last night and we were all called out to help fight it. The last thing I need is to hear that my little brother is up to more mischief."
"Well, excuse me for disturbing you," she replied in a sharp voice. "I just thought you should know so you can plan accordingly."
"Don't be angry, Anissina. I'm not criticizing you. I'm just tired." Gwendal pressed a kiss to her forehead, then rolled out of bed.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"I'm going to have to inquire after this situation, certainly. I will also need to know when Wolfram returns. He has, no doubt, come up with some asinine scheme to achieve his goal of marrying the Maou."
"I'm not suggesting I agree with him, Gwendal, but I can understand why Wolfram feels so crazy. It's hard to be in love with someone who doesn't return your feelings."
Gwendal paused in the middle of buttoning his shirt. "What do you mean?"
Anissins shrugged, and drew her knees up to her chest, still sitting in the middle of Gwendal's bed. "I'm just saying it's a tough feeling when you don't know where you stand with someone. That is why I find science and experimentation so appealing. At least, with facts, you always know where you are. An invention works, or it does not. People are more difficult—especially demons."
Gwendal's brows drew together in a frown. Anissina wasn't looking at him, instead she was toying with the lacy edge of her nightgown, and wiggling her toes.
"What do you mean, Anissina? I have the feeling we're not talking about Wolfram anymore."
"It's nothing," she said quietly, sliding down into the bed and turning her back to Gwendal.
The somber general pressed his lips together. What had he done wrong this time? He ran over dates in his mind…he had missed neither her birthday, nor their anniversary. He had remembered to tell her, twice, the day before that he admired her new dress. Great Shinou, he cursed silently. She didn't make it easy.
"Sometimes, a person just wants to know they're appreciated," she said, her voice muffled by the covers. "No one wants to be seen as a nuisance."
"Is that what you…do you think I believe you're a nuisance?"
She rolled over quickly, her bright blue eyes shining and hard. "You do! Don't deny it."
"Well, of course I do," Gwendal sighed. "How could you be anything else? You have been trying for years, I think, to actually kill me under the guise of helping you with your experiments. Always, always, ALWAYS you interrupt me, usually right in the middle of something really important just to drag me to have tea, or something equally useless. And then, when I do want you—to ask for your assistance for once, I usually discover that you've escaped the castle on one of your tours for female rights—or something like it. AND you never tell me when and where you're going, which means I have to mobilize men to find you, just so I know where you are. You do what you want, when you want, and how you want…without bothering to consult me on anything. However, when you want me—you demand I drop everything at once. I command a nation's army, Anissina…I am the chief advisor to the Maou…it's not like I'm a farmer, or a shopkeeper. If I am pulled away from my duties, or if I am distracted, mazoku die. So, are you a nuisance? Yes, and you always have been."
Even though he had not raised his voice, tears streamed down Anissina's face and she wiped them away, as though ashamed to be seen crying. Gwendal took a deep breath and came to the side of the bed, drawing her into his arms. She only cried harder, smacking his chest with her small, beautiful hands.
"Get off me, you big, oafish, stupid insensitive…human! I don't need you. I'll just take my things and we can call this…WHATEVER it is between us finished!"
"Stop it," Gwendal said softly, ignoring the insult, sliding a hand into her hair and pushing her head against his shoulder. "How can you say…whatever this is? I should have thought this is obvious."
"You would," Anissina muttered darkly, against his chest. "Sometimes, Gwendal, I really think you do resent me, or hate me…I don't know which. Ever since we were children, you've run away from me, avoided me, and even though we were friends, you hardly ever confide in me. We have been going around in the same circles since then…I swear, if it wasn't for the fact you have sex with me, we could still be adolescents."
"Anissina Von Karbelnikoff!" He growled, hurt in a way he didn't think possible. "I have never, not once, ever had sex with you."
"Then what exactly would you call it, Gwendal? Last time I checked, we have been lovers for years."
"I have had sex before, and so have you…I have had sex with courtesans and courtiers, even my left hand, but, I have only ever touched you with love. I have made love with you Anissina…made it out of nothing more than air and our two hearts. Never, not one time, have I ever just had sex with you—so don't insult me."
"What?" she whispered, freezing in his arms.
"You heard me."
"I…I didn't know it meant…that I meant that much to you."
"How can you think that, when you know I love you?" He asked, bewildered. She was absolutely impossible.
"You love me?" She asked, her voice very small, almost tiny. Gwendal sighed, stroking her hair. Underneath her force of nature exterior, she really was a mazoku like any other, in need of the same love and affection as anyone else. He knew she loved him…how could she not know he felt the same? She sounded almost…fragile.
"Anissina, everything I said before is true. You are a nuisance and, to be very honest, a gigantic pain in my ass. But, you always have been, and have I ever once tried to change you?"
"Well, no. You usually just run away from me."
"I don't want you to change, silly woman. I love you as much because of your faults as your strengths. I would have thought my actions made it clear. You drive me crazy, I won't deny it…but…I wouldn't know how to live my life without your insane inventions, your willful disregard for my opinion, or your temper. I have always loved you and I always will. Don't I tell you often enough?"
"You only say the words, and then only sometimes, when…when we're making love." She said softly.
Gwendal felt her begin to relax in his arms, and he pulled her into his lap. "Anissina, you know that this kind of talking isn't easy for me. Out of everyone in my life, I thought you'd understand that I'm not really…comfortable with discussing feelings."
"I know, Gwen…it's just sometimes even the most emancipated, self-reliant woman wants to hear that she's loved by the man she loves the most."
"Look at my hand…see that scar on my knuckle…right there on my index finger?" He asked.
She took his hand, perusing it, and finally nodding. He looked down too at the tiny scar, a ribbon of white against his tanned skin.
"Do you know how I got it?"
"No."
"The first knitting lesson you gave me…when we were sitting on my bed, in my room…remember that? I made one too many stitches and you rapped my hand with another needle. The point cut my index finger…the scar is what remains."
"I—I'm sorry, Gwen. I didn't mean to—"
He shook his head quickly and clamped his hand over her mouth. "Just listen, please. I have been in more battles than I can count, Anissina. I have negotiated hundreds of treaties and made thousands of diplomatic visits, and you want to know something?"
"What's that?"
"Whenever I prepare to enter a room, or lead a charge, or meet another dignitary at the negotiation table, the last thing I do—every time—is kiss that little scar and think of you. It's my promise to myself that I will return to you—no matter what. Understand, you impossible woman, that I may not always be able to say the words, but I am not an unfeeling demon. I love you. And I hope that is enough."
She nodded quickly, looking up at him with her brilliant eyes. She probably would have answered, but Gwendal still had his hand over her mouth. He shivered, therefore, when he felt her lips brush his palm in a soft kiss. He drew back from her, leaning down to kiss her forehead.
"I have to go," he whispered. "There is much to be settled."
"Do you have to go right this minute? You're really tired, Gwen. Don't you want a little more sleep?"
"Too late now," he said, shaking his head and stretching. "I'll try again tonight."
"No." Anissina looked up at him, her smile soft and alluring. "Stay a few more minutes. I'm sure I can help you relax."
Torn between checking on Wolfram and staying in bed with the one person who managed to both excite and frustrate him in the same breath, Gwendal hesitated.
"Wolfram won't be back for a day or two at least," Anissina said, her fingers already working on the few fastened buttons on his shirt. "You know how the time differs between our two worlds."
"You make a compelling argument," he conceded, sucking in a breath when he felt her small, soft hand drop between his legs.
"Allow me, then, to illustrate my point."
Gwendal let himself to be pushed back on the bed, then pulled his lover with him to fan kisses over her sweet lips. He had accused her of always demanding he give up whatever he was doing to pay attention to her…and when it came to loving her, and proving that love with his body…he never really complained. The sweetest sound in the world, to his ears, had always been the sound of his name on Anissina's lips when uttered in passion. Gwendal Von Voltaire had a craving to hear that sound this morning…over and over again.
By the time the mid-morning sun had burned off the morning fog, a few hours later, Gwendal Von Voltaire, the terrifying general of Shin Makoku, was snoring…and dreaming of bearbees.
--O.o.O—
For much of his youth, Gunter Von Kleist had been ridiculed for his romantic nature. It had never been popular, in Shin Makoku, for a man to devote himself entirely to a love of knowledge and reading. Strong magicians, such as himself, were meant to use their powers for the furtherance of the country's glory and honor. He had been teased, taunted, and even physically challenged because of his peaceful nature. Peace, amongst the mazoku, was something to be enjoyed in between wars, something for wives to dream of and contemplate. The best poets in the land had been warrior-bards, and it was no wonder that the most honored and respected of Shin Makoku's artists had been those who wrote their work on blood-stained parchments, still fresh from a battle ground. Still there were a few families who concentrated more on the art of living than the art of war, and he had been raised by such parents. His father, what he could remember of him, had been a gentle man—a seeming incongruity with his massive physical stature and brute strength. He had instilled in Gunter a love for the romantic, the affection for small, every day pleasures. Gunter had been reared under the philosophy that a man fights when he must, but that honor was better sought in keeping the peace rather than destroying the sons and daughters of an enemy—for how would anyone ever reconcile with a race who decimated their children?
Because of his own dark soul…the monster he felt himself to be on the inside, Gunter had always turned his warmer feelings outward, and it seemed a natural vocation, then, to become a teacher rather than a soldier. He did his best to use knowledge as his main weapon, consequently, one of the gifts Yuuri-heika had given him in the first year that they'd met had taken on significant meaning for him. The book of poetry, from an assortment of human authors, had found itself in his hands so many times, that the mazoku had memorized every line. Some of the poems were meaningless to him on the surface—he certainly had no idea what a ball turret was much less what a ball turret gunner might be called upon to do, but he understood the futility of war, and the sensation that a life could be held meaningless by those in power.
So, when he came to consciousness, finding himself on a bedroll in a strange, stone structure, his body embraced tightly by his heika, the first thought in his head beyond is this really happening, was that of a human author named May Swenson's poem about trees:
At the top they looked like one
tree, where they were embracing.
It was plain they'd be
always together.
Too late now to part.
When the wind blew, you could hear
them rubbing on each other.
He could not help but remember the words as he carefully turned on his side, facing the Maou and slipped his arms around the young king to hold him close. He blinked to clear his vision. Yuuri-heika's slim frame was still limp with sleep, and he could not help but notice that the Maou was exhausted. He could see evidence of the dark circles beneath his eyes, and his skin was dusty with travel and hardship. Gunter saw the streaks of dried blood, the matted hair, and the torn clothing on his liege, and a surreptitious glance at himself yielded the information that he was not in any better shape.
"You're awake, then."
Conrad's voice surprised him, but he knew instantly that it shouldn't. Yuuri-heika had told him they were being guarded by both the knight and the spy, Yozak.
"I…I am." Gunter whispered.
"Did Yuuri bring you back?" Conrad's voice was mild, but there was an angry edge to it—brought on by concern and fear, Gunter suspected.
"Yes, in a way I think he did."
"When will he wake up?"
"It shouldn't be long," Gunter whispered, smoothing his heika's hair from his brow. "Even now I can feel him begin to stir in his mind. What is the status here?"
"The wraiths disappeared with the dawn, your Excellency," Yozak said, his voice less soft than Conrad's but still subdued. "I have been out to scout and gather wood and water. I could find no sign of them."
"And you wouldn't. They require the essence of night to take form. They are unable to combat the sun."
"Have you harmed him, Gunter?" Conrad cut in, his voice shaking. "Is Yuuri going to be ok?"
Gunter was surprised by the soldier's outburst. "How could you think I would harm him?"
"He said your souls are united, mixed. And that you said it could be dangerous. Will those creatures always hunt him—the way they have been hunting you?"
"We will discuss this a bit later," Gunter said, quietly. "Yuuri-heika is waking. I will explain to everyone once we've started the day.
Gunter turned his attention from Conrad to the younger man beginning to stir in his arms. The king came awake in stages, first his body shifted a little, then he nuzzled against Gunter's neck, and finally he pulled his face back—his eyes fluttering open to reveal a sleepy, slightly confused expression.
"Good morning, heika," Gunter said softly, gently, continuing to stroke the king's slightly matted hair away from his eyes.
"G—Gunter?" the maou asked. Suddenly, the boy startled in his arms. "Gunter! What…what happened to you? I was so worried. I kept calling for you."
"I woke up, heika," he explained. "I didn't mean to frighten you. I suppose you felt me ripped away from you?"
The king nodded, relaxing again onto Gunter's arms. "It was awful."
"I know. That's what it was like for me when you would wake up, those two mornings."
"But…but we were about to…and I wanted to so much…and you just…you WOKE UP? I've heard of people falling asleep before, but never waking up!"
Gunter laughed gently, squeezing the king and pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I'll try to fall asleep next time, is that better?" The look of irritated outrage on the Maou's face was adorable. And…heartwarming. Gunter was relieved to know that Yuuri-heika, in the light of true morning, still wanted him. He stared at the young man in his arms, taking in his handsome features—still beautiful despite the dirt—and was overcome with emotion. He clutched Yuuri-heika tight to his chest, crushing him in a strong hug.
"Gunter!" The king muttered. "Can't breathe…"
"The welcome home hug is an established tradition between us, heika," he said, hearing his own voice shake a little, and repeating the phrase he'd used so many times before. Then he gentled his embrace and let his focus expand to include the other two occupants of the room. "It is morning, Heika. Morgif's barrier held through the night, and as I told Conrad already, the shadow-wraiths are unable to take form during the day. I think, though, it would be a good idea if we were to clean up and then discuss a course of action. What do you think?"
"S—sure," The Maou replied, though he showed no signs of letting Gunter go, which made the tall mazoku blush with pleasure.
"All right, then, Kiddo," Yozak said, his voice injected with cheerfulness. "You heard his Excellency. How about I take you down to the river for a wash?"
Gunter sat up, carefully bringing his king with him. "That's all right, Yozak. I'll accompany his majesty—if that suits you, heika?"
"I…I asked you to call me Yuuri," the boy whispered, his eyes filling with tears.
Gunter frowned as the tears threatened to spill over the Maou's lovely dark lashes. How could he have been so insensitive? He knew very well that Yuuri-heika wasn't that concerned about his name and once the Maou thought about it, he would also understand Gunter's need to maintain decorum—the young man was hurting because the past days had been so stressful. It was a lot to ask of his king—to just move on as if everything was normal. He cut a glance at Conrad, instantly recognizing the dark look in the soldier's eyes. He blamed Gunter for Yuuri's tears, that was certain, and he was right to, the adjutant supposed. Yozak was frowning, his hands hanging limp at his side, soap in the left and a towel dragging the floor clutched in his right. Gunter understood then that he was the least popular man in the room at the moment…and what had seemed like the perfect, happy ending to all his dreams while he'd been asleep was really the beginning of a big adjustment for everyone.
"Yuuri-heika," he said, pressing his cheek to the Maou's, "Let's take a walk to the river—and we can talk, all right? You had a very hard night. Can we…can we talk about it?"
The young man nodded, his breath hitching, but he smiled…Oh Great Shinou, he smiled at Gunter with that trembling, half-frightened, but still brave smile he had and Gunter, in that moment, would have promised the boy anything—and made good on it, too. If Yuuri ever found out what power he had over Gunter with that smile alone, the demon lord would be enslaved forever—though the idea of such a yoke was no burden.
"You two have been on watch all night, haven't you?" Yuuri asked Conrad, after he gave Gunter one last hug.
"Yes, Yuuri," the soldier replied, stressing his name and giving Gunter a cool glance. "Morgif's barrier withstood the attacks of the wraiths very well. As you suspected, they did not relent at all and morgif seems fine. However, when I tried to remove him from the place where you set up the barrier last night, I was unable to pull him from the ground. I believe he is waiting for you."
"I'll get him. Thanks, Conrad. And thanks, Yozak—I know we usually have our bath together when I travel, Yozak…but, just for this morning, I think you should sleep—and you too, Conrad. Get some sleep while I clean up—Gunter won't let anything hurt me—and then we can decide what's best to do. You saved me, both of you, last night. You saved Gunter, too. I am so grateful, you'll never know. But, that being said, I'm not going anywhere until you two are refreshed and ready to leave. So, sleep."
Gunter was not the only one to notice that the Maou hadn't made his order into a request. It had been the advisor's delight to watch the young man grow into his responsibilities as Maou, and he had been very happy when Yuuri maintained his thoughtful sweetness even as he matured. But now, watching the young man taking solicitous care of his two favored bodyguards, his attention to their need for sleep, his desire that they remain well—well, Gunter couldn't help but be proud. Shibuya Yuuri was no longer a young human boy out of place—he was a proud mazoku king, and he showed it in a thousand ways.
"Very well, kiddo. I am a little tired anyway," the tall, handsome spy said.
Gunter stood up, stretching, and waited until Yuuri gained his feet before taking the soap and towel from Yozak's hands.
"Just for today, though, right, Kiddo?" The red-haired bodyguard asked, giving Gunter a look that clearly communicated that he wasn't about to step aside more often than absolutely necessary.
"Yup," Yuuri replied, reaching out and squeezing Yozak into a hug. "Now, sleep. I know you're tired."
The spy ruffled the king's hair. "Ok, now go bathe—you're pretty ripe, kiddo."
The boy swatted his bodyguard's arm in mock outrage, causing Gunter to grin with affection. Yuuri-heika's gestures had always been so endearing.
"Are you ok, Conrad?" Yuuri asked, leaving Yozak's side and sliding his arms around the soldier's waist.
"Of course, Yuuri." The soldier smiled down at the Maou.
"Sure?"
"Sure," Conrad repeated, resting his chin on top of the king's head. "We'll be right here, so don't go too far, all right?"
"We won't, promise." Yuuri smiled, then turned to Gunter. "You ready?"
"Yes," he replied, still aware of Conrad's cool eyes trained on him.
"All right then, we're off!"
Gunter followed Yuuri from the building, and once outside saw that they had spent the night in the ruin of what appeared to be a millhouse. He had only stopped long enough to gather fresh clothes for himself and the king, while Yuuri-heika was carrying two small towels and the soap. Gunter had taken his sword, and waited while Yuuri ran over to grab Morgif.
"You did a really great job last night," the maou praised the sword. "I'm really proud of you. And you look better, too. Were you able to eat something when those wraiths were hitting the barrier?"
The sword moaned in what seemed to Gunter to be a cheerful way. Yuuri-heika clearly understood, however, because he grinned.
"I'm glad. I'm sure you were hungry. We're going for a bath now, and you're coming along."
The sword made a loud groan.
"No, I'm not going to get you wet. I just want you to keep an eye on things while I'm cleaning up, ok?"
If a sword could swell with pride at being so praised by an affectionate master, and entrusted with guarding the Maou while he was vulnerable, then Morgif would have been twice his normal size and wearing peacock feathers, Gunter thought.
It took him a few minutes of searching, along the river bank until he came to a spot that suited him. The river had a swift current, that much was evident, and while the Millhouse had been abandoned for quite a long time, there was no doubt that it had been built there with the river's natural power in mind. However, Gunter finally saw a nice wide spot near a gentle slope of the bank where the water eddied into a gentle pool.
"What are you doing, Gunter?" The Maou asked.
Gunter looked up from where he'd knelt by the river and was checking the current. "I wanted you to be comfortable, Heika. And to be honest, the idea of another freezing bath in the river does not appeal to me after the past few days. So, would you care to dip in a hot spring?"
"What? This isn't a hot spring, Gunter. It's a river."
The tall mazoku smiled, charmed by the way the Maou cocked his head to the side and looked at him as though he was a bit daft.
"Maryoku has many uses, Heika." Gunter explained, unable to prevent himself from slipping into teacher-mode. "I have an affinity mostly with air, it is true, but I am skilled enough that I can heat a little water."
To demonstrate, he called forth his maryoku, then pushed his hand beneath the water. He closed his eyes, feeling the power ripple over his skin, and brought the temperature of that one small pool up to a nice, steaming level. It was hot, yes, but not enough to burn. When he finished, he turned back to the king. The young man was staring at him with eyes quite the size of saucers.
"Gunter," he breathed. "Is there anything you can't do?"
"Yes, Yuuri," he said, reaching out to take the king's hand and pulling him close to his chest. "I can't make your clothes disappear." He leaned down and kissed the Maou's ear, tugging gently on the lobe.
"Gunter…" Yuuri sighed, pressing against him.
"Take your clothes off, Yuuri." Gunter felt a shiver of possessive pleasure when the young man gasped at his whispered command. He really didn't intend to seduce the king—not there—not on the side of a riverbank with two, at least slightly, irritated traveling companions waiting on them—and danger that would come with nightfall. No, he didn't have time to introduce the young king to the pleasures of outdoor lovemaking—with any luck at all, there would be plenty of time for that, a future filled with erotic explorations, if he had anything at all to say about it. For now, he would content himself with a bath, and time spent alone in the presence of the man he loved more than anything else in the world.
--O.o.O—
Conrad Weller would never have described himself as a particularly jealous man. At least, not before today. He had tried, honestly tried, to sleep when Yuuri left the millhouse with Gunter, but images kept rolling across his vision like the movies he'd seen on Earth. Yuuri sleeping, curled against his former teacher, his face relaxed in an expression of complete trust. Yuuri waking in Gunter's arms and his first recognition of the face he'd wanted to see so much since Gunter had left Blood Pledge Castle. Yuuri's arm around the tall, beautiful mazoku's waist as they walked toward the river—Gunter's arm curled protectively around the king's shoulders. Images that replayed themselves over and over in his mind until sleep eluded him and he could do nothing more than try to be still underneath the dead weight of Yozak's left arm. He envied his best friend and lover's ability to sleep—it was true, the spy could sleep anywhere, in any position. He'd once told Conrad that to sleep was a luxury he was often denied, so he'd cultivated the ability to snooze in the way some people had the ability to breathe—instantly and deeply.
The sound of mingled laughter drew his attention from his thoughts. "They're coming back," he said, stroking Yozak's shoulder.
"I hear them," the orange-haired man said, not moving from his position. "Are you embarrassed, Taichou? Should I get up?"
"No," he replied. "I'm not embarrassed. I do think, however, that it's time we all had a talk. I don't know about you, but I'd like an explanation."
"An explanation for what, Conrad?" Yozak said. The spy sighed, rolling so that he was propped up on one elbow. "Do you want to know what's going on, or do you want to know what Yuuri and Gunter have been doing in their dreams?"
"I…I don't really want to know that."
"Captain, I've known you a long time, and I've never pulled punches when it comes to telling you how I feel—or what I see. Yuuri can't help that he's in love with Gunter any more than you can help being in love with him. But, unless you want to start acting like Wolfram and throwing a fit whenever you see Yuuri-heika with someone else, you're going to have to get over yourself. The Maou grew up—I'm sure you've seen it. And, I don't know when it happened, either, but he did. I'll tell you this, though—that boy loves you. Maybe not the way he loves Gunter, but he loves you and it would break his heart if he thought you were upset with him. It would hurt him so much, in fact, that I'd wager my horse against the odds that he'd leave his Excellency behind if it meant he had to choose between the two of you. And that, Conrad, would destroy him. So…my question for you is…what are you going to do?"
He thought about it for a moment, letting the truth of Yozak's words sink into his heart. "You're right," he conceded. "It just…I didn't think it would work out this way."
"Tell me about it. It is difficult to manage being in love with someone who loves someone else. I know it better than anyone. So, take a lesson from my experience—give him his freedom and support him. He's going to have a hard time of it, you know. Gunter is far older than he is, and you know Wolfram is going to explode when he realizes what has happened between them. If you don't love and support Yuuri, then…if you let him down then…everything you have worked so hard to build will fall apart. You've had his heart for years. Don't be stingy, Conrad. Share him. The kiddo depends on you, and if you let him, he'll keep you by his side. Just don't force him into a situation where you tie his hands."
"When did you get to be so patient?" Conrad asked, reaching up to trace a finger over Yozak's lips.
"I'm a spy. I do a lot of waiting." Yozak stretched, then stood up, shaking his limbs. "What you and I have, romantically, isn't forever, Conrad. We both know that. But what we've built between us—the friendship, the trust—that will last forever. I don't know about you, but that means a hell of a lot more than sex to me."
"I do love you, Yozak." Conrad said, looking out the window. "And you're right, what we have goes far beyond sex."
"I like to think of it this way—who knows what the future will bring, right?"
"Right."
Conrad knew Yozak was right. Still, it was hard to watch. Yuuri and Gunter were walking back across the field, both looking much more themselves. Yuuri's damp hair curled up slightly at his collar and freshly washed face was gleaming, more from happiness than lack of grime. He held Gunter's hand, their fingers laced together and he was leaning toward the beautiful mazoku as the older man pointed something out. When Yuuri stopped and looked into the distance, his eyes seeking what the adjutant had shown him, Gunter raised their braided fingers to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to Yuuri's knuckles. Yuuri turned back and leaned up to kiss the taller man. Then, and he didn't know why, but this bothered Conrad the most—Yuuri reached up and tucked a lock of Gunter's wet, pale, lavender hair behind his ear. Something about that touch—the caring, the ease, the soft promise it held—made Conrad's throat tighten painfully.
"I told you not to watch," Yozak said, shaking his head and sighing. "But does anyone ever listen to the red-head…noooooo."
Conrad gave a rueful laugh. "All right. All right."
By the time Gunter and Yuuri walked back into the room, Conrad and Yozak had cleaned up the millhouse, stoked the fire, and had set out a simple meal of rolls, cheese and dried meat.
"Did you get some rest," Yuuri asked.
"Yes, Heika, thank you," Yozak said. "You two smell significantly more palatable. Sorry for the chow—I don't exactly have a kitchen."
"It's great, isn't it Gunter?"
Conrad busied himself with handing out food so he didn't have to watch the two men touch each other. Yozak was right—it was easier not to watch.
"I've wanted to ask, Gunter…and if you're up to it, now. Do you think you could explain what's been happening? What are those wraiths?"
"Yes, I can explain." Gunter sat down in front of the fire, and Yuuri slipped behind him, having extracted a comb from somewhere in his bags.
As the demon lord explained his family history, the Maou began to comb his long hair. Conrad concentrated on what Gunter was saying, doing his best to ignore the silent communication that passed between the Maou and his advisor. The rapport between them was beautiful—even he had to admit that. A gentle tug by the king, and the tall mazoku would shift position to give the young man better access. A tap with the comb, and Gunter would pull a section of now snarl-free hair over his shoulder. By the time Yuuri had finished with Gunter's hair, the adjutant had filled them in on the events that had taken place since he left the castle.
"But what about this philter?" Yozak asked. "How did that mingle your souls?"
"It is the nature of my maryoku—the maryoku held by all my family. That is why we only use the philter with great care. Yuuri-hieka had been so distraught when he could not get back to his family on earth, I mixed some so he could at least visit his family. Had it gone as it was meant to, then, I would have, with Ulrike-sama's help, been able to set protection wards to keep our souls separate." He turned to the king. "You would have been able to see your family, then, but you would not have been able to interact with them…not like we were able to."
"I have no regrets," Yuuri replied, looking into Gunter's eyes.
Conrad cleared his throat. "And the wraiths…they are the manifestation of your…ill temper?" He didn't know exactly how to ask.
"Only in a small way," the adjutant replied. "Many centuries ago, even before I was born, the head of the family, Siegfried Von Kleist, made a bargain with the shadow-wraiths…in exchange for our service to the Maou, and the promise to allow them to feed on our souls, the wraiths agreed to leave the people over whom we have charge—the mazoku in our lands—in peace. We have, as a family, sacrificed ourselves in small numbers over the generations. Maryoku runs very strong in our family. It has been enough to sustain them."
"But…what does it matter if you are in service to the king?" Conrad asked.
"By supporting the Maou, the Von Kleist family has sworn to uphold the stability of Shin Makoku. If the country were to fall, the shadow-wraiths would have to hunt once more. Like all things evil, they prefer the path of lease resistance."
"I can't believe that!" Yuuri exclaimed. "Look, Gunter, you're back in my service, ok? I do not release you from your duties. There. All settled. Make them leave us alone."
"Would that it were that simple, Heika."
The use of the Maou's title earned Gunter a smack on the ear with the comb.
"I'm sorry…Yuuri." He said, reaching around and tugging on the young man until Yuuri left his place and snuggled up to Gunter's side. "But, it is still not that easy. There is a ritual I must perform to restore the balance. I will have to travel to my homeland in order to complete it."
"So, we have to go to the Von Kleist lands?" Yuuri asked.
Conrad watched as Gunter's expression turned wistful and sad. "It is not a long journey…only three days, but, I cannot ask you to come, Hei…Yuuri. It will be very dangerous, and the wraiths will hunt you if they can. They are cunning, so don't underestimate them, Conrad. But, you must return Yuuri to the castle. You will be safe there, since the wraiths are bound within the Von Kleist borders. I had thought I was safe out here, but I had forgotten that this area was once in our borders. It is unclaimed territory now, which is what has allowed the wraiths to come this far. You will be fine once you pass back over the Greyfelde."
Conrad took a deep breath, understanding exactly why Yozak was now chuckling and shaking his head. "Gunter," he said. "I rarely disagree with you—well not since you were my teacher—but in this case I'm going to spare us all a headache. Before Yuuri combusts—which you now see is imminent—I'm just telling you that we're all going together."
"Conrad's right," Yuuri said, his face red. "I'm not leaving you, and THEY are not leaving me. We're going together, all of us."
"Heika…" Gunter said, his eyes widening. "It really isn't safe…"
"It's not any safer for you to go alone! And if we're all together, we will have Morgif to protect us. You're ready for that, right?"
Yuuri's sword moaned in what Conrad decided was happy anticipation.
"There, it's settled. Besides, I cannot accept that you are going to have to give your soul out piece-meal to some bunch of shadow-bullies. It's just wrong. There has to be another answer."
"Heika," Gunter's voice was full of wonder. "What…what are you saying?"
"I'm going to protect you." Yuuri's voice was strong and sure. "I don't know exactly what I'm going to do…but between us all we'll think of something."
"I'll send a message to Lord Von Voltaire when we arrive in the next village," Yozak said, as he stood up.
Conrad suggested packing up the horses, because the day was already half-spent and they had many miles yet to travel. As they rode away from the millhouse, Conrad kept his eyes fixed on the horizon, his ears and senses alert to any danger. If he did that, he could mostly ignore the way Gunter fit Yuuri into the curve of his body as they shared Ao's broad back. He didn't have to see Yuuri lean back against Gunter's chest, or the taller man's head bent down as they shared a lengthy whispered conversation. He noticed that the trees were in amazing foliage and the river shone silver in the bright sunlight—instead of noticing Yuuri digging into his small bag at intervals, pulling out another treasure, another gift from Gunter and discussing its significance. And he definitely did not notice the way, from time to time, Gunter's hands curled around the young king's thighs and gave him a squeeze. No, he never noticed that, nor did he see the way Yuuri shivered when Gunter pressed small kisses to his neck. And the birds, well, they did much to cover the sound of any laughter he might have heard from the pair.
Yes, he had to admit, Yozak really was right. It was much better not to look.
--O.o.O--
…And so did the demon lord return to his Maou's side. The king, for his part, vowed never to be parted from his love, and thought that the hardest part of their test had passed. Fate, however, had different plans in store for the young ruler…intending to prove his heart and his loyalty in the crucible of blood.
There is a saying in Shin Makoku—Love with Honor, Live with Hope, and Fight with Whatever it Takes to Win. And the demon-king, for all his youth, was a man who would not accept defeat.
Okie-dokie…there's chapter 5. Wow, Yozak is the insightful one…what a surprise from me, right? Heh. Heh. Seriously though, I'm really sorry—I was going to write a lemon for this chapter AND explain all the gifts, but the characters will only move at their own pace, and the timing just isn't right yet—there was too much to cover. That being the case, I PROMISE, gifts explained next chapter, and probable warnings for at least a lemony scent. Oh…and we'll meet Gunter's mom and younger siblings, then, too. Oh! And a little of sneaky Wolfram, scratching at the Maou's backdoor…but which Maou? That remains the question, eh? Seriously, I'll try to update by Saturday…Thank you so much for all your reviews and I'm really looking forward to hearing your comments and thoughts. Thank you so much for reading. I'll be seeing you…SN