Since it's been a while, final parts of the former chapter:

Murata grinned to himself. Straight-as-an-arrow, virgin-of-the-soul Yuuri had decided on the thing immature Yuuri of past years had vehemently lived in denial of.

That if being gay was the problem, he had better make sure Wolfram wasn't an exception to the rule.

"Sounds like a good idea to me. Now straighten your chest, and try to look as confused as possible"

"Eh?"

"Perfect!"

And with that enigmatic reply, Murata knocked softly before opening the door.

Green eyes a deeper shade than Wolfram's turned to look at them. His eyes were narrowed, dark with tiredness and worry, as Mikael tucked the more fly-away curls behind his ears and attempted to look like a king, and not a worried lover who had not changed clothes in over a day.

He smiled, noticing the dresses and the general look of bewilderment on the faces of the relatively pretty "girls". The brown-haired one looked at him with her head cocked in confusion, but the blonde looked absolutely lost.

"Excuse me, ladies, have you gotten lost? We've already had lunch, and I did tell Mrs. Norris and Hedrid to ask everyone to leave this part of the castle alone"

Murata called for another embarrassed blush, while Yuuri's eyes snapped to the person huddled on the bed, looking like a doll.

The door they had entered was on the same wall the headboard of the bed was leaned against, and the positioning meant that looking straight ahead from the bed Wolfram could see another section of the lovely garden. The blond didn't even turn to look at them, green eyes staring blankly at the gardens down below, looking drawn and fatigued

While Yuuri was absorbing every last detail of a living, breathing Wolfram, Murata attempted to explain away the mistake.

"We were supposed to dust the extra guestrooms that nobody has used in a while, but I think… I think we might be off by… one floor? Forgive us Your Majesty," Murata curtseyed cutely, "we're both new, and I'm terrible with places and Jen's awful at remembering directions! Oh, and after she told us not to bother you too…"

Murata deployed the weapon women have always been able to affect to perfection when attempting to gain the upper hand over softhearted men. He wobbled his lip, and looked like he was going to cry.

Mikael ignored an openly staring Yuuri, and hastily rushed to reassure Murata.

"Don't worry about it, um…"

"Mu-, Muriel, Sire"

"Muriel! It's a minor mistake, especially if you're new. The castle gets quite confusing sometimes. And you did get it right, the unused guestrooms are in the floor above. Here there's just me, my Wolf and Hedrid."

Murata curtseyed again, while Yuuri tuned in enough to slightly bow.

"Fifth time's the charm, Your Majesty! Do you need anything, while I'm here? I do know how to get to the kitchens, at least"

"Fifth time? What-… Wait, I don't think I want to know. But since you're here… It certainly saves a little bit of time"

Mikael looked over his shoulder worriedly at Wolfram, the movement attracting Yuuri's eyes to the bo- man.

And was he a handsome man too.

Tall and lean, wiry muscles taut in his neck as he continued running a monitoring eye over Wolfram, luxurious brown curls slung artlessly over one shoulder, dark green eyes gleaming brightly. Mikael's coat lay forgotten in his office; the white shirt he wore now devoid of cravat, the first two buttons unbuttoned to help him keep cool.

Soot stained his clothes, but for a king he seemed impervious to his appearance.

Yuuri found himself extremely annoyed that this man that had intruded upon his and Wolfram's life, the man that had forced Yuuri to do to Wolfram what had made him the exhausted child he currently looked like, had to look so nice and handsome.

Mikael turned back, wondering a little why the clueless blonde girl was glaring at him. That wasn't exactly the normal reaction he received from most women… They tended to look more like Muriel; giggly and near-swooning.

What odd females. They hire so many people to look after the castle that I don't think I've seen most of the maids more than once.

"It's early evening already, and while I really don't want to leave Lord Wolf, I have to go and speak to Hedrid. I don't… I don't want him to be alone, so if you could stay for a few minutes while I go and sort out a few things with our Head Guard, I promise you I'll do something really nice in return. Or maybe I should just…"

Murata knew that look in Mikael's eye. He saw it in Yuuri often enough. The man was spacing out, and from the quality of gentlemen Murata had figured out desired Wolfram the most, he suspected that Mikael was thinking about dragging the bed and boy along with him to meet his officer.

Surprisingly, Yuuri spoke up before Murata did.

"No problem, Majesty. The sooner you leave, the sooner you come back. And we will not let him get lonely."

Mikael looked at Yuuri like he had suddenly sprouted a backbone, taken aback by the grimly serious tone of the purple-eyed maid. There was earnestness shining in those eyes, and Mikael had a feeling that devotion from this particular maid would be a scary thing. She looked like if she made a promise, the promise remained made until it was fulfilled.

Someone trustworthy.

So he nodded, before quickly walking back to the bed and his ward. He bent over to whisper something in Wolfram's ear, before pulling the blond into a hug.

One that Wolfram returned, as he managed to crack half a smile.

"When I get back, I'll teach you the song of Van Da Via island, Lord!" Mikael smiled widely at Wolfram, whispered a thank you to the two undercover double-blacks, before laughing when Wolfram replied, with uncharacteristic good humour, "Do that Mikael, then I'll teach you the version written for people older than demon toddlers"

"I will see your ethereal face as soon as I can, my loveliest lord. Try not to get lonely without my bubbly personality, all right?"

Mikael softly chuckled, took one last, lingering look at a Wolfram who had returned to his original position, and left.

The Great Sage, the 27th Maou of Shin Makoku and the formerly-accepted candidate for the 28th Maou of Shin Makoku were in the same room.

Two of the three were in dresses.

One of the three didn't even bother to turn and look.

oOoOo

With coaxing, encouraging words Mikael had managed to convince Wolfram to drink cups of sweet, aromatic tea for breakfast.

For lunch he had gone on a very short hunger strike, saying with all the snobbishness he could muster in the face of his worry for Wolfram, that if the blond refused to eat, so would he, and if he died, he'd come back to the castle to haunt Wolfram for leaving him to his idiocy.

Wolfram had managed a few strips of cured meat, and a few slices of a special, fortifying spiced bread. News of his sudden weakness had wafted to the kitchen, and the cooks had put on their hairnets for the first time ever, before taking to the stove like the hounds of hell to the condemned. Every single fabulous item of food known to Balera was brought under the consideration of an overpoweringly dominant Mrs. Norris, to be cooked or shot down for "that darling boy". The lunch tray had come laden with beautiful, sweet-smelling flowers; ones the maid told him were sent compliments of the gardeners for helping them with the infestation problem.

While Wolfram had slowly chewed through his lunch, he listened as Mikael told him about the maids, the gardeners, the stableman who had formally requested Mikael to allow him to court the blond, and other menial things, the distraction from how empty it felt inside very welcome.

It did touch his heart though, which Wolfram found odd. He was certain the poor thing had been struck the killing blow by the letter, but still his insides warmed when he heard of people whom had first met him yesterday being so concerned that he was feeling unwell.

Only Mikael knew the real reason why, but he wasn't willing to share. For that Wolfram was glad.

He was also unwillingly touched when Mikael had mentioned in passing that he hadn't even left Wolfram to bathe.

This was after he had downed as much food as he could without feeling an urge to vomit.

"You haven't left at all? It's been almost… a full day… since I was…"

Mikael had waved his hand, rejecting the pitiful tone.

"Be fair, I only did it because it's easier to ogle you when you're asleep than when you're awake. Besides, no one's let me sing those 'healing' chants since I scared my Great Aunt Vesper almost to death. The baths aren't running away with the hot springs; they'll be there when I'm sure you… aren't so sad"

It really was unbelievable; he was receiving more care from near-strangers in two days than from family and friends in the past year. The knowledge burned his eyes, because of course of all of Shinou's subjects, he, Wolfram Von Bielefelt, had to be the one that was shown more affection by his captors than by beloved ones.

He couldn't find it within himself to cry in front of Mikael though; it would hurt even more. Of everyone he had ever known, by virtue of being his kidnapper Mikael had been exposed to Wolfram at his nastiest, saddest, and most miserable worst. He didn't want to create another cause for Mikael to disrespect him. Instead he stopped talking altogether, hands wrapped around a mug of hot tea.

Mikael was never one to be dissuaded easily. Softly he began humming under his breath, voice growing louder as he sang the starting verse, aware of the pricking of Wolfram's ears in what he hoped was interest.

"The lady raged, the lady fought. Bravely she stood, bravely she sought.

"Why would you not love me?" she begged, "Why do you not want me?" she begged.

She was hurt, brave lady, she was tired. Then the light came, when morning dawned.

The lady thought, and the lady sought, until, brave lady, brave lady, the truth she caught.

"I will not love you" she said, to her heartless family,

"I will not love you" she whispered to her cruel lover.

Brave lady, brave lady. Brave lady, the truth you've found

Your love is yours, brave lady, in sight and sound.

I love you dear lady, brave lady, and always I will"

Mikael, though not what one would consider a beautiful singer, had sung earnestly, and had sung with love.

The words banished the persistent tears, the woman's victory in the face of adversity managing to bring a tiny little smirk to Wolfram's face.

"Who was that about, Mikael?"

Mikael grinned, pleased that his most-secret-weapon had worked.

"A very brave lady. My mother, actually. She was the second daughter of one of the smaller aristocracies, and they had betrothed her off to some abusive merchant. She decided that she'd had enough of that rubbish, and she stormed in here and told my father exactly what she thought of a king that allowed women to be treated that way. If Hedrid hasn't lied, she told my father that men should be sold like pieces of meat, and see how they like it. My very single father fell in love with her on sight, and the song was created to remember her. She used to sing it to me too, almost as well, because it made her laugh."

"Whatever you do, Lord Bielefelt, just make sure you're content with it. Your fans will be satisfied with just that"

The golden-brown colour of the tea, the robust floral scent in the room and the sheer kindness he'd been shown made Wolfram less inclined to be weak and weep.

"I'm very sorry you lost your parents, Mikael."

"We loved each other as long as we could. I'm… I'm glad, I think, that at least they died together. Even if it means I don't get either of them, it's better that they didn't lose each other." Mikael grinned at Wolfram, who continued looking at him with sad eyes. "They were inseparable. And including that damned trip they went on to check on the bickering idiots up north and had the… accident, I'm quite sure their only regret is for leaving me onl"

Wolfram had been about to ask more, intrigued despite himself by Mikael's story. The boy had evidently led a difficult life, and still he managed to be gracious and kind and loving. While losing Yuuri made it near-impossible for him to breathe, Wolfram found himself embarrassed out of being blindly emotional by how much Mikael had lost.

A knock echoed through the room, and instantly Wolfram retreated into himself. A day of solid effort had earned Mikael the right to speak and be spoken to; Wolfram didn't feel up to anything more than quietly chatting with his… friend?

He didn't see them come in, didn't sense them or recognize Murata's voice.

Brief chattering, and Mikael came back to him.

"Now, Wolf, promise not to terrorise the maids too much, and I'll tell you more stories. I need to have a little chat with friend Hedrid, then I'll be back to sing the scales"

He risked a hug, and smiled widely when he felt it being returned.

"Stay well, Wolf"

Brief banter, and the only solid connection Wolfram had to a universe that didn't revolve around Yuuri broke as Mikael closed the door behind him.

oOoOo

The outcome of what we say to Von Bielefelt now will decide how this whole fiasco is settled. So first, must warn Shibuya not to jump into this and ruin everyth-

"Wolfram!"

Murata groaned. They had been given an almost miraculous chance to talk sense or sex, whichever worked better, into Wolfram to get him to escape with them. Ulrike had already been gently cautioned to keep a close eye on them attempting to return without notice; all Murata needed to do was drag two of the most obstinate people he had ever met to a decent-sized body of water, and he could be home in time for a hot dinner.

Sadly, matters concerning Wolfram were matters Yuuri's natural people skills had no grasp of. It was almost a sure bet that whatever Yuuri did, it would make the situation worse.

The blond in the bed stiffened, and the strain of keeping a tensed back in his exhausted condition made beads of sweat form on Wolfram's brow. He didn't move, didn't turn to acknowledge them. Yuuri meanwhile plowed on towards him with a look of determination, Murata grateful for the sleeping powders Giesela had packed for him. With calm rationale the Sage decided that, worse come to worst, he'd drug the blond, then Shibuya, then lock them in the storeroom until Conrad could come and haul them bodily away. Judging from Wolfram's reaction, he wouldn't be anxious to leave with them anytime soon.

It's a bit of a lie to tell Shibuya to leave Wolfram where he would be happiest. Even if the blond falls for Mr. Gorgeous Brunette just now, leaving him here would mean half the demon kingdom being depressed. That wouldn't be a job well done by a Sage of my standards, now would it?

"Wolfram!" Yuuri called out again, now crouched by the seat Mikael had sat in during his overnight vigil. That snapped Wolfram out of his trance, Murata observing from a safe distance.

"What the bloody hell are you doing her-" Then what Wolfram saw connected with his brain, and the blond wondered if his depression was so great that it had made him hear the voice of that man (as Mikael had put it) from a pretty little maid. A look of shock and confusion bloomed across his face as his jaw hung slack, trying to think of the best way to salvage the situation.

Mikael said I'm not to bully the maids. Then he'll come back and tell me more stories. And I won't have to think alone anymore.

Yuuri correctly interpreted Wolfram's shock as surprise because of his appearance, and roughly pulled of the straw-blond wig off. The contacts he left in place, too much in a hurry to want to fiddle with the lenses in his eyes. Besides, according to Yuuri's never infallible logic, his shock of black hair should be enough to convince Wolfram that his rescuers have arrived.

He didn't expect to get the response he got.

Bitter hysterical laughter erupted from Wolfram, the sound harsh and wrong coming from someone who looked so pale and breakable.

"I can't believe it! I've actually lost my mind. Mikael tells a couple of girls to keep me company, and I see you Yuuri! And here Mikael thought he could marry a normal, sane princeling, I had to go and hallucinate"

Wolfram smiled at a Yuuri who had been stunned into silence, his grin manic and wild-eyed.

"I may as well tell you that I hate you for breaking my heart, you know. I actually managed to burn myself in a human country, that's how bloody miserable I was. I wake up," Wolfram whispered conspiratorially, Yuuri leaning closer to hear better despite being greatly perturbed, "and everyone is so nice to me, and I'm sure these strangers love me more than my family! I think to myself, at least here, I'm loved, liked even. But even with all that, when Mikael isn't here to speak nicely to me, all I can damn well think of is how much I love you"

Looks like a nervous breakdown to me thought Murata, as he started fiddling with the bag containing Giesela's knockout herbs. Fury he could deal with, depression he could deal with. A laughing Wolfram convinced he was out of his mind and clinging to the belief that only his kidnapper could keep him sane was, though Murata wouldn't admit it to anyone, out of his league.

Psychiatry was not a field any of his past lives had had the good fortune to be involved in.

Yuuri resorted to physical contact, grabbing Wolfram's shoulders and shaking him with panicked vigour.

"Wolfram, snap out of it! It's me! Yuuri, Yuu-ri!"

Wolfram smiled.

"Oh, I know that. I also know you're not really here, I'm just going insane because you ended our engagement and Mikael's gone to do his silly king things."

Wolfram cocked his head to the side in dark bemusement, affording Murata a clear look at his face. The normally flawless blond now had tired eyes, sallow skin, and hunched posture, probably borne from the unbelievable amounts of stress Wolfram had been forced through over the past few days. It scared the sage a little, that the spitting image of the original king could look so defeated.

"You know, you've made me feel so horrible, like the most unworthy piece of filth to have ever come near your presence. I don't know why I'd want to imagine you here. Did you know, I nearly hit Mikael when he insulted you? I stood up for you. Then you abandon me for being kidnapped, yet Mikael's angrier with you for making me sad than he is happy that I'm staying. And I couldn't even cry, you bastard, because everyone here likes me too much for me to hurt them"

"Wolfram…" Yuuri was disturbed. He never imagined Wolfram could be like this. Bitter. Wolfram was as shallow as the wading pool on Earth, wore his heart on his sleeve, and couldn't hide emotions from controlling his expression. His Wolfram didn't bear grudges, would never teeter on the brink of complete loss of control.

It didn't bear thinking, that his Wolfram, the one that had forcibly shared a bed with him for years, was not actually… Wolfram.

Wolfram sighed, and slumped into the bed.

"I don't even remember falling asleep, but I'd rather go without sleep than to see you in my dreams. It's gotten dull, thinking about you even when I'm unconscious, when it's obvious you despise me. Go away please, Yuuri. You may have broken the engagement, but I damn well will say goodbye first"

Yuuri found that his eyes were watering, his chest was constricted, his stomach filled with lead. He wanted to vomit, scream, cry, run, hide away.

Wolfram had given up on him.

Before Yuuri could completely demolish himself with self-recriminations, Murata made his way to the bedside, still dressed as a female. He rested a hand on Yuuri's shoulder, gave the other boy a warning look, and faced the blond on the bed.

"Lord Bielefelt, if we told you that we came only to rescue you, that the breaking of the engagement was merely a ploy to find you the fastest we could, what would you say?"

Wolfram snorted from amongst the giant pile of soft pillows.

"What difference would it make? As long as His Majesty broke it, it won't be reinstated. And he was probably overjoyed when he found out he could get rid of me with good reason. I know when I've become intolerable to a person; my pride has long since disappeared, my home with my family would be uncomfortable with him there, and my uncle… is not a viable option yet. I'm staying here, where people actually give a damn about someone other than their blasted king"

Despite himself, Murata was intrigued. Were there reasons other than the broken betrothal that made Wolfram want to stay?

"I don't understand, my lord. What is the difference between the people here than the people at home?"

"My feelings actually count. The men treat me with respect because of my abilities; the women are kind to my material weaknesses. Most of them don't know of my standing, but they don't brush me off for their king. I matter, which is more than can be said after 80 years with my countrymen. I'm not weighed and found wanting every time I'm looked at"

Murata winced at the statement, embarrassed with himself for not caring before that the oft-overlooked third son was always starved for company and affection. He had noticed it almost as early as the first time he was exposed to the blond, yet had taken it lightly, occasionally making jokes of it with Shibuya. It just seemed too minor an ailment to affect the strong and proud Wolfram Von Bielefelt.

Now faced with past sins, he found it difficult to pull Wolfram away from this unexpected source of warmth.

Not when the rescuers were part of the reason he needed the warmth.

The sage had guessed that a breakdown was imminent; after all, emotions could only be repressed and hid behind anger for so long. What he never expected was the sheer magnitude of the hurt. The disengagement letter wasn't so much pouring salt into the wound as chopping off another limb. And for the first time since he had become the Great Sage in this lifetime, Murata felt with unflinching certainty that he had failed one of Shin Makoku's finest.

It wasn't a nice feeling, especially because even now Murata could not imagine a way for this to end happily

For all of us.

A choked gasp reminded him of the presence of the other major cause for heartache in Wolfram; with stumbling words Yuuri appealed for the last time.

"Don't let go, Wolfram"

A green eye looked at him dispassionately, before Wolfram turned away and burrowed into the covers.

"You broke the hand that held you, Your Majesty"

A whisper, soft and menacing, was all the warning they had before Yuuri's neck felt the kiss of steel.

"He's absolutely right, Your Majesty"

The tone of the voice felt infinitely more deadly than the sword against his neck, and Yuuri could barely stand the urge to turn. The knowledge that the blade was sharp enough to slice his skin, and the sudden, burning lapse in memory as to where and how deep under his skin his artery resided was all that stopped his movement.

"Muriel, that bag you just suspiciously shoved down your cleavage, if you will?"

Please let him think I'm a female, please.

Murata slowly turned to face Mikael, Giesela's pouch of herbs now clenched in his fist. There were two ways this moment could end:

He could throw Giesela's knockout weeds at the king, and escape with Yuuri to come up with another plan.

He could just give Mikael the pouch, and pray for the best.

Never one for believing in a higher power, especially since he had lived with one of the Highest Powers, and said power never could pick up after himself, Murata pulled back his arm to throw the untied bag in Mikael's face.

The look in the green eyes stopped him.

"Ask yourself this, Muriel. If what's in that bag can kill me, can it kill me fast enough that I won't have time to behead your precious little king? And if it's not meant to kill me…"

His grin was pure animosity.

"So help you gods"

Damn it!

"Don't threaten my servant, it's me that you have a problem with"

Yuuri kept his voice to a whisper, partly so that he could minimize the embarrassing shake in it, mostly to make sure Wolfram's interest was not piqued. The very air felt tense enough to snap with the slightest provocation, and for the three men currently eyeing each other, nothing could provoke like Wolfram.

A soft exhalation from the bed made the men twitch, and Yuuri's eyes rolled back into their sockets.

The blade had drawn blood, a little drop of scarlet rolling lazily across the flat of the sword. Murata eyed it with badly hidden fascination, before deciding that the most idiotic creatures on any world were besotted young men, and calmly he passed Mikael the little bag.

"Gentlemen, perhaps we should continue outside? I doubt either of Your Highnesses would want to wake up Lord Bielefelt. If I am incorrect, please feel free to start shouting and insulting each other, and may you both have a pleasant time explaining to his Lordship why his abductor is attempting to disembowel his former fiancé"

When emotions sung so loudly in the veins of mere men, Murata found it his duty to knock some sense into everyone. His bravado was mostly inspired by his knowledge that Mikael was not a murdering kind of man.

His courage was tempered by the knowledge that up until this Incident, Mikael was not a kidnapping kind of man either.

Mikael nodded brusquely, directing Yuuri out the door at sword point, Murata exiting first. The green-eyed man glared at them both when they were out of the room, ducking his head in momentarily to tell Wolfram that, "My dearest lord, I shall have to leave your magnificent presence for a while longer, please rest!"

He pulled the yellow door closed, and resumed his ferocious scowling at the two double-blacks.

Neither Murata nor Yuuri had attempted to run when their captor's attention was divided. Murata, because he wasn't certain he could get away with Yuuri safely, Yuuri because he was too busy being offended by the loving drivel Mikael had damned well lavished on Wolfram.

"Now, if you would kindly escort me to an empty room? With utmost disrespect, I do not trust either of you with the actual location of my workspace or chambers"

Predictably, Yuuri was outraged by the insult, and wanted to rally despite the fact that a sword was still held at his neck.

By an extremely steady hand, Murata would be quick to note. It never paid to underestimate a man's ability to fight.

Yuuri sees the look Murata gives him, and sees his way clear to shutting up.

A quiet march, solemn and morbid, to a small room with a single giant window and plush sofas.

"Sit"

Murata and Yuuri obediently took their seats, sitting squeezed together on a gold and red brocaded sofa, while Mikael took a wing-backed chair that placed him directly opposite the two double-blacks.

I thought I had a good thing going with my glasses, but this is the first time I've met someone who makes the sides of a chair look like the wings of a devil… Takes an extremely pissed off mind to accomplish.

"Are you wearing pants underneath that dress, Your Majesty?"

"What?!"

"It was a simple question, but perhaps I have overestimated your understanding of language? I would try to simplify it further, but I thought I was already speaking Fool"

"Insults are not a good way to start these talks, Your Majesty"

"Muriel, I assure you that these talks will not change their nature just because I insult this idiot whose laws you abide by. If you would admit to your actual gender too, Muriel, that would save me a lot of trouble and embarrassment. Any kind of subterfuge, and the deep lengths of my displeasure will be made resoundingly clear."

There was something bloodthirsty about Mikael's smile, sword placed tip to stone against the floor between his open knees. It was a stance that looked extremely menacing, as well as affording the young king a comfortable position to stand up and murder Murata and Yuuri with.

Murata weighed his options, heard the whisper of words in the controlled calm of his mind urging him to tell him, and decided to follow the voice of the formerly physical-bound king.

He sighed, annoyed that his fabulous act as an unintelligent castle maid had been brought to an abrupt, unappreciative halt.

Murata nudged Yuuri hard in the ribs to get his attention, and slowly made his way through removing his disguise.

The wig was taken off and placed right next to him, a desperate back up to possibly choke Mikael with if things went horribly wrong, as they usually did when any situation had a "plus Yuuri" in it. The contacts were taken out, and since he doubted they could come in use again anytime soon, were placed on the low table that separated their chair from the scowling human king.

The dress came off easily, he needed only to straighten up a little before the whole piece came off, leaving Murata in his shorts, a white undershirt, long stockings and buckled, heeled shoes. He left his hair in the ponytail; while the longer length whipped beautifully in the wind and induced fainting spells in Gunter, his hair was no longer likely to stay out of his eyes.

Damn, I have a bad feeling that a lot of yelling will be in order. And after that, one hell of an escape plan that I have yet to even think about, and probably ludicrous amounts of running. All of which probably wouldn't include Von Bielefelt.

Not a good place to be in, Murata concluded, as Yuuri jerkily repeated his motions, his pinafore being whipped across half the room in his haste to remove it.

"Surprising, really, how even neatness is a virtue that has managed to elude you"

Yuuri scowled, ignoring the barb about his haste, instead removing the contact lenses that were making his eyes itchy and red. Contacts always gave him that problem.

It wasn't seeing Wolfram's state, or being rejected. Oh no. Why would those things have any effect on his eyes whatsoever?

"For a kidnapper you certainly lack tact," ventured Murata, deciding that defusing the situation was the best he could do, and Yuuri lunging for Mikael in a fit of uncertain anger would help no one at all. Plus blood was murder to remove from an undershirt, and he had a feeling that an angry Mikael was a lot more capable and level-headed than an angry Yuuri.

Unfortunate, because calm Yuuri could not be praised with the words level-headed either.

"What I lack in tact I more than make up for with charm. Excuse me if I'm not anxious to spare any your way; both of you make up my list of things that never should have existed, and you both cover it almost in its entirety. We're missing only a handful of people to complete a set"

Finding bastards one and two right after asking Hedrid for a status report… Amazing how they actually were smart enough to find Wolfram, orchestrate a plan, and break into my castle. Urgh, Hedrid ought to be here, because at least there'd be someone to disarm me if I my sword hand gets particularly itchy.

Mikael leaned back, sword angling backwards to suit his slightly looser grip, determined not to accidentally murder Yuuri.

The silent screech of sharpened steel moving against stone was unbearably loud in the quite room. Only soft breaths decorated the air, and Yuuri found his mind to be quite empty.

Emptier than usual, many would chime in to chorus.

"So tell me about your inspired plan. Break into my castle, make a mockery of the kindness and soft-heartedness Balera is known for, spirit away my beloved, and what? Escape to the moon on a broomstick? Or maybe demolish my entire kingdom, because let me assure you, I would have to be dead and dismembered under a pile of rubble to be prevented from coming after you for taking Wolfram away and continuing your pursuit of his everlasting unhappiness"

How the hell would you know to what lengths you'd go for Wolf? You weren't the one talking to his dead body, swearing to bring him back. You weren't the one who's lost him more times than I've misplaced my house keys! How would you know?

"He's ours!"

Mine!

An elegant eyebrow arched, Mikael's face looking haughty and mocking. Which was precisely what he was trying to emote, but a flustered and furious Yuuri would not be deterred from bringing Wolfram back by facial hair.

"He didn't seem anxious to return. And I'm a believer in individual rights; what doesn't deserve Wolfram, doesn't get Wolfram"

Yuuri received a pointed look, and it took him a moment to realize that he was the "what" that did not deserve Wolfram. The mocking game wasn't one he was a stranger to; being naïve almost to a fault, words being twisted to quietly insult him were a regular occurrence at meetings with hostile foreign dignitaries.

Wolfram usually resolved that by calling Yuuri a wimp or calling the offending party names of such breath-takingly foul caliber that they paled and agreed to a pact before Wolfram was quite done explaining how their lineage resembled that of a donkey.

Coming from this man, who was happily tramping alone in his Happy Place where an exhausted Wolfram was being held hostage… Well, Yuuri would have none of that, thank you very much.

A king is allowed his vanity; if anybody had to insult him, Yuuri would be the first to say that it may as well be Wolfram.

Having that option removed and replaced by this smooth-talking bastard was no fun at all.

"He is not a citizen of your country. He's a nobleman of mine!"

Mikael widened his eyes dramatically, making him look as young as he was rather than as old as he wanted to be, before snorting. Yuuri could almost hear him thinking: no, really?

Really. And Murata deciding to be deaf and dumb had to happen now, of all times!

"What would his rank be, actually?"

"Easy! The lord of Bielefelt!"

"His uncle has… died?"

Oh, no, he's still alive and kicking from when he nearly made me kill Wolfram. What is with the people that obsess over you Wolf? Why are all of them raving maniacs?

Mentally speaking with his male ex-fiance who was currently presumably asleep in another room was totally normal. Yuuri would have you believe nothing less.

"He's fine. So what?"

Green eyes peered at him past the softly curled brown fringe, in part smugness and amusement.

"His uncle is the ruling Lord of Bielefelt, Your Majesty, not Wolfram. And has it ever been mentioned that Wolfram will actually inherit his uncle's title?"

Weird Uncle Waltorana definitely owes me for nearly murdering my friend! If I could have my way, and since I'm king I think I'll listen to me this time, Wolf will have any title he wants! He could be Royal Artist, if that gets him back! I'll-

Murata jumps at the opening.

"Our king would make one for him"

Meaningful looks are exchanged between the two wiser boys, initially unnoticed by Yuuri.

Of course I would, and even if I didn't want to he'd bother me until I called him a Lord anyways and-…

Yuuri snapped angrily.

"Stop having a mental conversation you two, and tell me what you meant!"

Mikael sighed, sounding like a displeased parent with a slow, petulant child.

"Your Sage, and yes I know who you are, was trying to convey the depths of your resolve to have Wolfram back. The main objection I have to this, and I assure you I have many objections to you being in the same country as Wolfram, is that I like him too much and like you not at all"

He taps his chin thoughtfully, bloodlust gleaming in green eyes, the scary emotion in that colour making Yuuri feel just a little squeamish. Even Wolfram at his angriest was never this angry with him.

Maybe.

"I could have you executed for trespassing, you know"

Murata was annoyed. When repeated reincarnation was as common as drinking tea in the afternoon, being talked down to by a boy of nineteen was an insult of the highest degree. Even if, intellectually, he understood that Mikael was attempting a psychological attack, it sure as hell did not mean he would receive slights like this.

Murata had pride.

"Not unless you want an international incident, Majesty. And trespassing is not a crime punishable by death. And even if you do tweak the rules to make yourself happy, please tell me how Wolfram, loyalty incarnate, reacts to having his monarch put to death"

Murata gets a lopsided smile.

"Wolf is the ultimate bargaining chip, isn't he? Only unlike you idiots, I have no intention of gambling his presence. Now, there are many, many wonderful things I can do to the both of you as revenge for your treatment of my Wolf, but I'm usually really nice, so that shortens the list somewhat"

"You're very kind"

Yuuri takes a stab at sarcasm, and there is nothing to show for it.

"Yes, thank you, I've been told that before"

"… You're going to kill us?"

Why do I get that You're-such-an-idiot-look every time I open my mouth?!

There was a slight twitch of annoyance, as Mikael's fingers began drumming on the pommel of his sword, itching to beat the man sitting opposite. Not stab, because he wanted to hear that fulfilling thunk! of steel colliding with the empty cavity Yuuri had for a head.

"I tell you I intend to be merciful, and that's what you think. I have better, more pleasurable pursuits than dirtying my country with your blood, so no. I'm considering simply sending you back, with a very stern letter to your caretaker to stop bothering me and Wolfram"

"You can't keep him here! He wouldn't be able to go out, with all the esoteric stones surrounding this place! You'd be caging Wolfram"

"If I had your mental capacity, King Shibuya, then that would be true. I, however, am completely willing to shift my place of residence to where the stones are rare. Marden was established here to make use of the natural defense provided by the stones; we're in enough of a state of peace that nobody would mind if I moved to another castle"

"We'll get him back! You can't just go around kidnapping people because you have a crush on them! What kind of a system is that? Have you even considered more legal ways to find wife, huh? There's matchmaking, and speed-dating and-"

"It's understandable that you would think other people are capable of mistaking a crush as true love, God knows you've thrown my Wolf's devotion back in his face enough times, but I am in love with Wolfram. I've allowed kidnapping if it means that the object of affection is removed from a place that brings him more harm than good. And by that I mean your entire country. And what person with a sane mind would want a wife when they could have Wolfram?"

A smirk lifted the corners of Mikael's lips cruelly, and Hedrid would have been worried if he had been there, because while Mikael was hardheaded and impulsive and obstinate, it would take a lot to make him cruel.

"The answer to my question would be you, King Shibuya Yuuri. So stop making an absolute annoyance of yourself and leave, because if you don't want Wolfram enough to love him, you damn well do not deserve him"

"Wolfram isn't yours to decide for!"

"And what? You have exclusive rights to him because you're king? You would stoop to misusing your power just so that you can drag him back, and treat him badly? Allow me to inform you of one aspect of my character, you self-centered fool of a boy-"

A hesitant knock on the door, and three pairs of eyes snapped to it, Mikael's lips frozen in a scowl mid-tirade.

No one knows I'm in this room, and the only people on this floor are guards, Hedrid and Wolf. They know better than to bother me, and Wolf should be resting in his room, so this means its Hedrid, bearing news.

Thought processes proceeded at startling speed when Mikael was furious, and the way he was feeling then, the conclusion was drawn before Hedrid's respectful voice wafted into the room.

"Your Majesty, I request permission to enter, as a situation has arisen and-"

There was the sound of scuffling, and the sound of someone being shoved aside. An unmistakable voice erupted, scolding Hedrid as the doorknob was pushed down and the door swung inward.

Wolfram stomped in, stumbling when he stepped on the hem of his borrowed pants, fatigue stopping him from regaining the effortless balance that usually saved him from falling over cliffs and off bridges in fights.

Mikael had lunged for him before the blond even came close to knocking himself unconscious on the floor, and like a cooing hen Wolfram was led to Mikael's seat, Yuuri and Murata gone mute with the shock of seeing him again.

Wolfram had not noticed either of them, busy glaring at Hedrid who still stood respectfully outside the room, before cursing and tugging his too-long pants.

"Mikael, you idiot, these pants will be the death of me! And how dare you be so irresponsible? Hedrid is already so easily traumatized, yet still you traipsed out of a meeting with him to hide in Shinou knows where! He asked me where you were because he needs you for your kingly duties, so we had to scour the entire floor looking for you, and the tea I drank at lunch made me have an unpleasant dream, so I am tired and very annoyed at you!"

The blond paused for breath, before huffing his bangs out of his face, eyes big and accusing.

"What is so important that you would abandon me for? I have a pounding headache, even Hedrid feels offended, and such unreliability is shameful"

Wolfram had shifted in his seat, swinging his legs to sit more comfortably in the chair instead of perching on the arm to face Mikael.

He moved mostly because Mikael was attempting to be very observant again, and he didn't want the king to note the slight tremble in his hands, or the perspiration too much to be caused by a simple search. Most of all he hoped that Mikael would not be able to tell that it was his unhappy dream that had caused him to seek the human, and that he was too shaken to be able to handle solitude. Wolfram hadn't meant to blurt it out, but ranting was second nature and required almost no thinking.

At least when the idiot is near I don't think about Yuu-

Mid thought Wolfram's gaze wandered to the sofa opposite him, to his monarch and his sage, and said thought immediately flew out of his mind, shock blanketing every single other emotion.

"What the-"

Rationality whispered a quick "It wasn't a dream" before Wolfram growled in frustration and was forced to surrender to the unconsciousness that welcomed his aching head.

TBC

A gorgeous cliffie for everyone, and you really should be worried as to how I continue the story. Ahem. Fitting that the first line in the previous chapter is the last line of this one.

I'm tremendously pleased I got this posted in December, it was hard-going, writing Yuuri's and Mikael's first meeting. Gave me a headache too, so I'm taking that to mean that they both were wonderfully, annoyingly in character. Wolf!angst, and I wish I didn't have to write it, but where there's Wolfram something would happen to make him angst, so... yeah. As usual, do tell if anyone's off or annoying or off and annoying. Or if you wish there was more Hedrid, because Hedrid is a nice kind of guy :)

It's my final post for this year, and 2008 has been pretty odd. Thank you for all the things that you guys have done, reviewing or even just liking the story, because in times of great stress, it's my ff account that I look to for an ego-boost. Sad, I know, but whatever floats my boat, right? XD Thanks for the support and encouragement and the tunjuk ajar, never mind the last one if you don't understand, it's all warm feelings anyways. 2009 will see the end of this story, that's a promise I swear I'll try to keep. It's probably me being sentimental, but seriously, I appreciate the support!

Next update, probably in February. Interested in different Wolf! fics from me? Do tell, and I'll start posting the random things I'm keeping to myself (because some are super crazy random, and oh, I'm shy)

Honestly, thanks for 2008.