Previously:
Wolfram smiled, and Yuuri was having trouble breathing, because he had been looking at that smile, that beautiful smile the whole time, and now he could see Wolfram's eyes, and Wolfram's eyes were broken.
"I will be staying here"
oOoOo
Yuuri didn't bother taking a pause to take it all in, the gravity of the situation, because throughout this whole big sloppy mess, it felt like he had been doing nothing but taking pauses to listen to people, and being considerate and intelligent.
And look where that got him! In underclothes borrowing some stranger's coat being told by Wolfram, that thanks for visiting Balera, nice to have seen you, I won't go home to my family, have a nice day.
It felt like an awkwardly funny part in a painful black humour sketch, and Yuuri was almost certain a camera crew would leap out of the covered dish on the table and he would be made a fool of and then things would go back to being normal and legible.
"No way, Wolf"
Wolfram glared at him, fury writhing and spitting fire. Esoteric stones surrounded them though; even if it didn't hurt, Wolfram couldn't summon flames. Yuuri knew, and just frowned in determination.
"It's my decision, isn't it?! You can order me to go back, Yuuri, but you should know that it would be against my will!"
"Fine! I order you back then!"
Murata was surprised by Yuuri's blatant show of power, and evidently, so was Wolfram. The blond was stopped mid rant, hands clawing the air, determined to grasp onto something solid.
"… What?"
Yuuri crossed his arms, face pulled into an expression of severe displeasure, and Murata wondered if the other boy realised he was trying to intimidate Wolfram in an oversized jacket and buckled shoes.
"You heard me. I order you back to the castle. You can shout at me, you can complain, you can hit me-"
The sound of a rattling Yuuri echoed in the room, Wolfram gripping him by his shoulders and shaking.
"What" shake "Is" shake "Wrong" shake "With" shake "You?"
Yuuri thought that maybe this dizzy, nauseous feeling was what Wolfram felt like every time he got seasick, felt sympathy rise along with bile, and his sense of purpose strengthened.
He pulled Wolfram's iron grip off him, and rotated his shoulders to get feeling back into them. Murata discreetly pulled a halved citrus fruit into the palm of his hand, just in case, and eyed a stunned-into-immobility Mikael.
Obviously this boy king didn't expect this. Can't say the same for me, so ha! abnormally tall boy, I'm smarter than you are!
Murata took personal victories very personally, and even if the situation was tense and unsure, a win was a win. The fruit was insurance in case Yuuri's smooth talking couldn't bail them out of this problem, or at least out of this room.
Murata was very sure he would be squirting juice in someone's eyes today. He vaguely remembered an old life as a housewife doing a similar thing when her husband of thirty years had again refused to put his socks in the laundry hamper.
Ah, good times, good times.
"Nothing's wrong with me, Wolf! What's wrong with you? Why won't you come home?"
"If I really had one, do you think I would have chosen to stay?"
Ooh, low blow from challenger Bielefeld. How will challenger Shibuya rise to meet this?
"Of course you have one! All of Shin Makoku would be proud to say you're ours! Besides, your family is waiting for you. Greta is waiting for you!"
Ouch! It's a regular whack-below-the-belt bloodfest!
Murata always knew he had a… challenging sense of humour.
Wolfram's eyes widened, and initially Yuuri hoped it was because realisation had dawned in his heart. It probably hurts to be reminded that he'd forgotten them… I really don't want to hurt you Wolf, not any more than you already have been, but you have to stop being silly!
Yuuri's hope was dashed when four years of avidly studying Wolfram's multitude of facial expressions informed him that the reason those green eyes were so wide was because he was stunned by the sheer stupidity of what Yuuri had said.
Which, of course, worried Yuuri tremendously.
"Yuuri… You do know that she likes you better, right? At best I was a replacement parent, at worst I was the annoying nanny spoiling your fun time together, telling her to put the sword down and go to bed. Between you and me, I am the unimportant one. She can survive without my presence; there are other instructors to aid her. If I'm as bad-tempered and horrible as I've been informed numerous times, Greta may well flourish without me"
"Wolf, it'd be really unfair for you to stay here and abandon-"
Wolfram snorted.
"Abandon what? My post in the army that's more a decoration than an actual job? Family members who worried more about every other person in the country than me when I was in trouble? Or a former fiancé who holds less love for me than I do for the horse that broke my ankle when I was young? Or maybe you mean the many, many wonderful titles people have made up for me over the years? Immature brat, as you've said. The selfish loafer, that one from my brother"
Wolfram stared into Yuuri's eyes, direct and cutting and broken (as ever?), and Yuuri thought that maybe all Wolfram wanted was to be persuaded that he was loved and needed in the place he had lived in all his life, and that he didn't really want to stay here, that he was only saying these things to make sure he didn't get any more hurt, broken than he already was.
And Yuuri wanted to tell him he was needed, wanted to tell him how much he was loved and missed, but things were… paradoxical.
The country mourned his apparent death, but in his life Wolfram was treated basically as he had said.
The argument we're sad that you died meant that it took his death for people to appreciate him. Even Yuuri didn't find it comforting, but I do not like him less than he likes that stupid horse that injured him!
"How about all the good things, Wolf?"
Yuuri prayed, prayed so hard he could almost feel his mind's words floating into the sky, that Wolfram would remember something, anything that was so wonderful and warm and sweet that the blond would convince himself that there was love, there was a lot of it, and all was for the boy named Wolf.
Fill in the blank, Wolf! Please!
Mikael wondered why he wasn't interrupting, why he wasn't whooping with delight, why he hadn't broken into song and started dancing, twirling Hedrid in his arms and hugging Wolfram so tight the blond would hurt him.
He wondered why all he could do was sit and watch and wince at every thing that came out of the mouth of the other king.
A macabre dance of words, one that he felt was out of his depth, too far away for him to try and break up.
He was in love, Mikael was in love with Wolfram, he had already secretly carved their initials into his desk, but Wolfram had a long, long life before him, four years of which were spent with that other, stupid boy, and Mikael couldn't magic away Wolfram's past.
He wondered if maybe the reason why he was still seated, rather than up and shouting for a bottle of Balera's finest, or knocking Yuuri out, or finding out what exactly the slimy Sage had in his hand, was because this fight was Wolfram's past, and in morbid fascination he had to be seated and bear witness to it.
"Good things? When have good things ever been done for the sole purpose of making me smile, Yuuri? Have you ever done anything to help me that you did just because you knew it would make me feel happy? Something that wasn't because of your twisting conscience, not because someone guilted you into it, something not related to politics or the peace or anything. Only for me"
Yuuri was not a gifted on-his-feet thinker, but rallied desperately to come up with at least one occasion where he had done something nice for his friend that wasn't because of guilt or a weird sense of responsibility, without any motives.
He died just a little inside when he drew up a blank, because Wolfram would deal the real killing blow.
The blond wanted to smirk, tried to smirk to show his disdain and self-satisfaction, but even his lips were so tired, so very very tired that the smirk collapsed in on itself, making a bastard form of a smile, sadness incarnate rather than a show of bursting joy.
"You cannot recall even one occasion, yet you wonder why I want to stay. Mikael's an idiot, and whatever minor grief my family felt will be avenged, but the bumbling fool has done nothing but try to make me happy while I was here. His motive is love, and it is his reasoning, but you do not have even that for me, Yuuri. Tell me honestly, without thinking as a king or as a responsible adult" He spat the word. "Just as an observer. Can you blame me for staying?"
If abject misery had a voice, it would have been Wolfram's as the not-smile distorted those pretty, pretty lips.
Hedrid felt ill just hearing it, and hoped that he was never made to see despair in all its hideous glory ever again.
Murata could not remember seeing such depression in all his lives; being killed was a painless experience compared to having your heart ripped out then forcing yourself to continue living.
Mikael wanted to cry for the first time since his parents died, swallowed, calmed himself, then still felt his lip wobble.
Yuuri was the one asked a question, and Yuuri was the one from whom an answer was expected. His hands were shaking, just a little, just tiny trembles, and Yuuri, never astute Yuuri, always oblivious Yuuri, he just couldn't understand why it felt like the whole world was empty and suddenly very, very cold.
Because he couldn't blame Wolfram. He found that he really, really couldn't.
Because he had arrived when the demons had needed him, and he had felt their gratitude and joy when the boxes were sealed away, and he had been exposed to the warm kindness under the hard exterior, but at the end of it, when he had been made to choose, he had chosen Earth.
Wolfram wasn't their adored king; he was the unneeded third child. No one bothered to be kind to him, no one pandered to the little requests for affection he had, the little things he needed.
And Yuuri knew, because some things Yuuri did just know, that at that time, when he was walking into the portal, if he had asked Wolfram the same question, could you blame me?
Wolfram would have said no.
But, but-… But if he stays, then what? It isn't like he can commute to the castle every day to keep me company then… return here every night! I wouldn't let him leave if I could keep him in Blood Pledge. So maybe he has a reason to want to leave home. Don't we have a right to him too?
Yuuri was reminded of a day a couple of years ago. Feeling selfish and extraordinarily childish he had stayed on Earth a week longer than he was supposed to, reveling in the simple pleasures of being a teenage boy in Japan.
Upon returning Wolfram did not say a word to berate him, merely informing him of their practice sword spar later in the evening.
At which he was thoroughly beaten up, his arms having gone on strike and declaring that they didn't even know which side of the sword should be facing them.
As he sat panting on the ground a scowling Wolfram had advanced on him, sword held aloft, glinting in the late sun.
"Ignore your responsibilities at your own risk, Your Majesty. Swordsmanship, your crown, your people… Like your Sage told me, use it or you will lose it"
And now the memory returned like a haunting, sounding smug even in his mind.
"If I say I can't blame you Wolf, will you come back?"
Wolfram looked taken aback by the statement; it wasn't something he had anticipated. He was expecting Yuuri to guiltily stay quiet, maybe make a few feeble attempts to get him back, maybe just stare dolefully at him.
He did not expect the boy-king admitting that Wolfram wasn't just being petty and vengeful; Wolfram did not expect Yuuri to understand.
"Realising something after I have pointed it out to you is not much of a convincer, Yuuri"
"What do you need me to say Wolfram? What can I say Wolf, so that you will forget, for just a little while, all the not-nice things you've had to go through, just long enough for you to say you'll come back with me? Because Wolf, I don't think sorry is enough, and if it is enough for you, it shouldn't be. You have to be back home so that I can tell everyone how you feel, then maybe we'll all stand in a line and bow and ask for forgiveness or something, and I will make things better for you, but you have to get home first"
I don't think Shibuya knows how much that sounds like a wedding vow. I don't think Bielefelt knows it either, but there's the idiot couple for you. If we were alone, I could actually ask Shibuya why, if he thinks it's reasonable for Wolfram to want to stay here, is he being such a wimpy Romeo and trying so hard to drag blondie back. We're not, now I have to find another occasion when Shibuya's being painfully obvious again to talk some sense into him. The greatest, most immature, most painful love one-edge-short-of-a-triangle in the history of Shin Makoku will have to wait a little longer to be resolved. Silly idiots.
Murata worried sometimes if he could ever have a meaningful relationship with anyone, when his lifetimes' worth of experience tended to make him roll his eyes in exasperation at most things, as well as cause him to affectionately but honestly refer to everyone as "silly idiot".
He stared at Mikael openly, because both the king and his guard were transfixed with the drama unfolding. The human had a tiny sliver of hope of winning Wolfram's affections, and the sliver had multiplied considerably in size when Wolfram had announced his decision, but the blond was still anyone's for the… not taking, exactly, because brash Wolfram would have no trouble saying no to everyone right now.
More like, Wolfram was anyone's for the pleading, both kings possessing the opportunity to sway the blond's broken but not beaten heart and winning the joy of his companionship.
"Yuuri… You know that regardless of everything, I can't ever be angry at you for very long" Wolfram sighed, and scrunched his eyes shut, softly hoping that when he opened them again all this would have been blown away and disappeared. "All your errors are accidental, or because you really do not love me. The rest of them… They had eighty odd years of my life to do with as they liked, and now I have had enough. Clasping my hands and saying 'forgive me' means nothing when it is insincere, when everyone goes back to being exactly the way they were before"
The blond looked at Hedrid, who despite ordering himself to be as muted as possible still stood straighter and puffed his chest when the green gaze slithered over him, desperately wishing he was impressive enough for the gaze, before moving to stop on Mikael.
The human king gulped, because eyes were windows to the soul, and he had never been good at reading them, but even he could see resignation and the tiniest, barest most delicate flicker of hope.
Wolfram, Wolfram, Wolfram, I can say your name as often as I want in my mind, my dear lord Wolfram, stay here and make yourself happy, please, dear sir, please.
"It is an empty history here, Yuuri, and for me it starts with people who are more likely to be kind. I was to blame for alienating the demons who weren't nobility and the half-breeds in Shin Makoku, but it has always been difficult for anyone of any kind to accept me. There's a broken type of freedom here, the kind that is attained from the security of being loved. And as I cannot get that from you in Shin Makoku, there really is no reason for me to go with you, Yuuri, and every reason for me to stay"
Wolfram tries for a smile again, because throughout his speech he was screaming at himself for sounding so weak, for being so shameless so as to actually declare his need to be loved, and he tried so hard to convince himself that there was little anger, insignificant bitterness, and no hatred for the people he left behind.
After all, they never treated his Yuuri badly, and he could bear the brunt of loneliness without holding a grudge.
They couldn't hurt him here. They couldn't stop loving him if he was here and my brothers, and my mother, and uncle, and Greta, and people who pitied me enough to call me friend were over there.
It was a small smile, but infinitely warmer than the crooked, dishonest one from before.
"And thank you, Yuuri. I did not forget to be grateful to you for breaking the engagement. I will refer to you by your title from now on, after my goodbye"
Wolfram had not called him wimp the whole time.
The blond held out his hand, and Yuuri shook it, because what else can I do? Wolf's saying goodbye.
The grip on his hand was so hard it hurt, but Yuuri was above making childish remarks about Wolfram's iron grip of Doom. Wolfram wanted this to be the final goodbye, and even if personally Yuuri doubted he would be letting the blond go anytime soon, he would not mar Wolfram's solemn, serious gesture with a stupid whine.
One last smile, one last "Take care of yourself", one last glance, and Wolfram exited the room.
The sound of the door clicking shut snapped them out of their trance.
Mikael nodded when Hedrid looked at him, and the taller man left the room hurriedly to provide Wolfram with whatever comfort his presence could give.
Yuuri studied his hand, the part that had touched Wolfram last, glowing a dull red as feeling and blood worked their way back into his hand after the vice-like grip.
It throbbed, and it was painful, and Yuuri was hypnotized by what he would swear was the imprint of Wolfram's hand.
Murata pushed his glasses a bit further up, frowning slightly when his movement to rest back into the chair resulted in an embarrassing noise caused by his bare skin dragging across the leather of the seat. He coughed, his glasses glinted, and he smirked at Yuuri.
Secretly, he was shouting for Shinou to answer him like a man and tell him if this would end favourably for them or not.
"Love hurts, doesn't it Shibuya?"
oOoOoOo
"Don't you think you will get bored following me around, dear small-minded human?"
"Your presence is many things, lord. Boring will never be one of them"
Because Hedrid knew, and few people knew as well as Hedrid how true it was.
"You are happy with my decision?"
"Does it matter?"
Wolfram shrugged, wandering aimlessly. Were he any other man, now would be when doubts began setting in.
Were he any other man, he wouldn't have made the decision he did.
Agreeing to let go of whatever title he may have gotten from his uncle, being removed from his family and the place he grew up in, living for Shinou only knew how long in a country that was poison.
Not being able to play with fire again.
Not being able to play with Greta in the castle again.
He couldn't include never having the joy of having Yuuri to himself again, because wasn't that major reason why he had decided to stay with Mikael?
Wolfram never had Yuuri to himself.
So perhaps it feels like I am about to vomit my soul out. How is the pain any different than the one I've always lived with?
"Lord, I believe I should mention this, as your safety is now of paramount importance, that when you stay silent for longer than a few moments, I get very concerned"
"I will be as loud or as muted as I feel like, Hedrid. Give me a few more minutes in your company, and I'm sure I will be able to find something offensive about you to shout about"
Hedrid would not be deterred. By his own inference, his skin had thickened several inches to the consistency of dragon hide after over-long exposure to too many unusually abrasive people, and an insult that would have traumatised him a month ago barely caused a flinch.
He carries on, because curiosity killed the cat, and Hedrid was a dog person.
"Does it mean your lordship is in love with His Majesty?"
Wolfram turned down a random corridor, and contrary to all the teachings of his polite upbringing, he didn't even bother to turn to face the person he was speaking to. Wolfram didn't even bother to slow his pace, a methodic loping gait that left Hedrid's secretive, cat-like girly steps in the dust.
Hedrid metaphorically girded his loins, and lengthened his stride.
"Which Majestic Idiot are you talking about?"
And Hedrid despaired.
"King Mikael, but I believe I already know the answer, milord"
The blond snorted and smiled grimly.
"Pretty astute for a man with an intelligence that could outwit only rocks. Your Mikael really should know who it is exactly that I'm in love with. If he doesn't, I swear on all that makes me wonderful and wise and beautiful, I will condemn both this country and Shin Makoku to an eternity without me, and perhaps become a fisherman on Van Da Via"
Really, if all that comes from abandoning any hope for living a loved life is nauseating numbness, I should have done it earlier. At least it means that my life isn't in the clumsy hands of anyone but my own. Even if I end up a bitter, heartless man who lives on the streets cackling at passers-by into dropping change, I would have the warmth of failing and fouling my life by my own hand than by any other man's.
Eternal seasickness seemed a small price to pay for this odd, unreal piece of emancipation.
Like a bird escaping its cage but injuring its wing in the process; perhaps he could not fly or live in luxury as he did before, but even hobbling away was moving forward.
Wolfram was a staunch hater of stagnation. Even lakes offended him on bad days. Remaining in a false relationship for four years… He deserved something for the strength of his perseverance.
It would have lasted forever too. He would have waited forever, but Mikael had given him an out, and Yuuri had pushed him out the door.
Wolfram Von Bielefeld would not crawl back. If he has lost everything else, his pride in himself will keep his back straight.
Hedrid couldn't say he had expected anything different, anything less, from the scariest adolescent blond in existence.
oOoOo
It would have been a nightmare for Hedrid, had he remembered, had his mind been capable of thoughts not Wolf-centric and father-flavoured.
His king, in an insecure room, with two foreign, probably hostile agents.
But it was safe, safe as pudding, though. They were indulging in a cross between peek-a-boo and a staring contest, and Murata thought he was winning. Then again, his opponents weren't putting up much of a fight.
Yuuri was still obsessed with his hand, like it held the answer to everything, and he could know the secrets to the Universe if he just looked at it hard enough.
Mikael was staring dreamily at the ceiling, no doubt designing Wolfram's new suite, only occasionally looking at him to grin smugly.
Wait… Wolf says he's staying here, which is what he says he wants, but Wolf always makes the most noise for other people, and never says anything when he's the one in trouble, so when he does say something, like he did just now… Wouldn't it mean what he said wasn't what he meant? And since people keep telling me I have excellent instincts, and my instincts are telling me not to let him leave Shin Makoku, it means that… what? Wolf's not destined to stay here?
Yuuri stared at his hand again, and felt like he was on the very cusp of making some grand conclusion that would save the day, but it was so close and yet too far. Yuuri-reasoning couldn't come up with the solution, and part of the barrier to Yuuri's personal enlightenment was Yuuri-reasoning.
Something that the boy had yet to grasp.
What he had grasped though, was the staunch belief that things would be worse, worst, infinitely terrifyingly unbearably worse if Wolfram didn't come back with them.
He didn't know why he felt that way; Yuuri chalked it up to his Maou powers trying to tell him from beyond the… wherever the Maou went to come up with his unpretty justice speeches between appearances with wild hair.
Is Wolf still considered a minor in Shin Makoku?
"Murata! Is Wolfram of… umm, legal age, to make a decision about where he lives? Doesn't he have to listen to his mom, or his uncle, or something?"
"He's considered an adult already. I think they had some sort of giant celebration when he turned 80, Shibuya, so no, you can't call his mommy and make her bring him back"
"Shaddup. I ordered him back, and that didn't work either, did it? I'm kind of surprised he didn't break my jaw for even saying it"
Murata rolled his eyes in annoyance.
"Shibuya, you've known him for years. Despite swearing bloody murder every time you even glanced at another person, has he ever actually hurt you?
"I get bruised a lot…"
Murata found an understanding partner when Mikael snorted alongside him.
"Wimp"
"Don't call me that!"
And then Yuuri retreated back into "deep thought".
"So Wolf doesn't have a guardian, or anything?"
Murata wondered what he was trying to get at.
"Well, traditionally it is accepted that after the weight of responsibility shouldered by family, caretaker and spouse, the king's the legally appointed guardian for everyone. Don't tell me you haven't noticed why you have to deal with so many orphans, Shibuya. King-ing is a lot more personal here than on Earth"
"So… umm, right now, which king would be Wolf's guardian?" Sheepishly Yuuri eyed Mikael, who eyed him right back, before desperately looking at Murata.
Well… For a question from Captain oblivious, it isn't half bad.
"Actually, unless he legally renounces his citizenship in Shin Makoku, you're still the one who's supposed to be looking out for him"
"Right. So I can do whatever I think is best for him, is it?"
"Actually, it means that whatever you do, his king has to agree with it. Lucky thing you got the job, huh, Shibuya?"
They settled back into an awkward silence, Yuuri's train of thought barreling forwards at remarkable speed. Demanding hadn't worked, sounding like he knew what was better for Wolfram than Wolfram did (And who believed that?) hadn't worked. Maybe it was time to wrench out that old, ill-used thing.
What was it called again?
Reasoning.
"You know I won't drag him back kicking and screaming, Murata. That's a job for his brother-"
Shut up Shibuya, you don't want to go around revealing the only solid escape plan we have!
"Hurry up and get to the point, Shibuya. I don't have Bielefelt's lifespan"
Yuuri scowled, annoyed at being distracted from his verbal, careful reasoning. The hint to shut up about Conrad flew clear over his head. Fate smiled, a little, and he did stop from continuing his sentence.
"Well… Maybe if we get someone he likes-"
Yuuri winked weirdly in Mikael's direction, the brunette startled by the creepy gesture. In Balerian custom, Yuuri had just offered to marry his youngest sister.
Mikael did not have a younger sister. And if he did, he would write it in stone, words of blood in the constitution, that no way in hells would he ever let his little sister marry Yuuri. Or anyone.
Mikael did not have a younger sister, so instead just fixed a disturbed look on Yuuri.
Yuuri continues on unconcernedly.
"- to make him feel better, you know, better and more like old fire-and-brimstone Wolf, so that we can reason with him, then he'll understand we need him, and he'll come back!"
Yuuri's smile was similar to the warm grins of innocent puppies after dragging a dead frog in as a gift. Mikael, even used-to-Shibuya Murata couldn't help but go slack-jawed in wonder, because it was obvious that Yuuri honestly thought that his suggestion would solve everything.
What the hell. Knowing Shibuya, he probably thinks we'll be bosom buddies after this, and go fishing together. Despite the fact that he nearly gored his eye out that one time we went with Gwendal.
Mikael and Murata were adversaries, but shared a united front of shocked bemusement in the face of Yuuri's intense soft-hearted wimpiness.
"I presume you know that I don't have a sister?"
"What?!" Yuuri was confused, but Mikael wanted to get that scary wink out of the way first.
"He knows. You just offered to marry his baby sister. Moral of the story, Shibuya. Do. Not. Make. Weird. Facial. Expressions. At. People."
"What your Sage said. And are you honestly saying that you want me to convince Wolfram to go back with you? You do know the whole reason I've gotten myself into so much trouble smuggling him here was to get him away from you, right?"
"You don't understand! Wolfram, he needs to come home with us, he can't honestly believe we all don't love him! His family is waiting, and I promised his mother, his mom, that I'd get him back! And he obviously likes you, otherwise angry Wolf would have preferred to go Tarzan on us and live in the jungle with a pack of wolves instead of staying with you. He's angry at me, and I don't know how to get him to listen to me, so you have to make him see reason!"
He pulled his hair in frustration, because it was frustrating, it was painful, the thought of seeing Wolfram, talking to Wolfram, fighting with Wolfram, but not being able to get Wolfram back.
It offended his sense of justice, and Yuuri was very sure that had the esoteric stones not been such an irritating magic-blocker, the Maou would have whipped out shouting for justice and throwing tornadoes at people.
He couldn't honestly say he was totally against magic taking over and blowing away all these problems. Because fundamental laws of nature are fundamental, and while Yuuri was no genius at the sciences, he knew that Shin Makoku would stop being Shin Makoku without Wolfram.
"I will not demand Lord Bielefelt do anything he doesn't want to, and I will not be the one to turn him from my home. He stays until he wants to leave"
Suddenly it was Yuuri who looked like Mikael had said something incredibly unintelligent.
"If he says he wants to leave?"
Mikael shrugged.
"I will not clip his wings. I decided to bind myself to him, not the other way around. If he wants to leave, and is calm in his decision, I will personally escort him to wherever he wants to be"
There was something very wrong with the picture Mikael was painting. Something that was completely wrong, thoroughly detached from logic.
Something incredibly stupid.
"You're being silly!"
Mikael was violently insulted. Cunning, sly, manipulative, he could take.
Being called silly by Shibuya Yuuri rankled his nerves. How the other king even imagined he had the right, of all people, to call anyone else silly, Mikael would never know.
Yuuri was on a roll, and Murata vaguely wondered if a miracle would occur and Yuuri would actually figure it out himself.
"You should know how incredibly brash and hard-headed Wolfram is! The brat would think nothing of leaving if he even suspected his presence was making things difficult for you, he'd grumpily leave and never come back, and you'd just let him go? That's so… stupid! Other people, most people, you say "goodbye", they'd try to make it less final, try to make things better. Saying "goodbye" to Wolfram means never seeing him again. With Wolfram, if he lets you look out for him, you can't ever stop holding his hand, because if you let go…"
Yuuri groaned and thunked his head heavily against the table. This was worse than a mathematics exam.
"He'll say he won't come back when he's kidnapped by a human king who is, by the way, annoyingly tall"
The tabletop was acquainted and reacquainted with Yuuri's forehead a few times more, the dark-haired monarch hoping that it would knock some sense into him.
"You know, you keep saying I don't deserve to get him back because I'm rude and stupid and mean and not gay-"
Damnit Shibuya. Shut yourself up!
"-but if you can't read through arrogant Wolfram, and you'd let him go just because he says he wants to go when really, he doesn't want to, then you aren't much better!"
He folded his arms on the table, burying his face in the crook of his hands, voice muffled through the cloth of the coat.
A garment Murata fervently wished someone had had the kind thought to provide him with, but if no one else would point him to a cloakroom, he certainly wouldn't kick up a fuss.
"At least I will never be okay with him leaving"
oOoOo
"Achoo!"
Hedrid reached for his lapel, intending to take off his coat to pass to the blond boy, before he remembered that he had already passed it to the demon king.
He regretted it now, because it was a little chilly in the gardens, just this side shy of twilight, and if Wolfram fell sick, heads would definitely roll.
"Are you feeling ill, sir?"
"Ripplingly fit. If I was in a better mood, I would tackle you to the ground as a demonstration of my magnificent physique, but I am in no such mood. I believe the Majestic Idiots are talking about me. My delicate nose does not deal well when my person is spoken of by silly little men"
"Majestic Idiots", if you had asked Hedrid, sounded like a pet name for an obnoxious pair of lovers. Which was scary and wrong and terrifying, and Hedrid didn't want to think about it.
Little pinpricks of merry white light dotted the purpling sky, stars shining merrily as evening lost to the darkness.
The night stole the sun.
"Oi you. It's almost night. Would Mikael turn those other two out in the darkness?"
Hedrid thought about it. Mikael's position within all of this was precarious enough, what with abducting demon nobility, without him needing the additional problem of the demon king being robbed or murdered in the night in his country after being thrown out of Petrach. It was highly unlikely that the intelligent boy would risk an even bigger commotion, though Hedrid could only guess how much his king would loathe being forced to house his most disliked adversary.
"I doubt it, milord. They will probably be given shelter for the night, in a room as far away from yours as His Majesty Mikael can manage, and will be booted out when it's daylight."
And Wolfram continued walking, distractedly enjoying the smell of fresh grass and blooming evening- and night-flowers. The air was sweet and quiet, and it was calming.
Wolfram needed to be calm.
"Would you like to hear a story, man?"
"Of course, your lordship"
"Once upon a time, there was this beautiful blond boy, with a temper as violent as his love was uncontrollable. One night, a lot like this, beautiful like this, that blond boy lay in his beloved's bed, hoping for some fun"
Hedrid was just a little bit horrified that Wolfram could use words with meanings like fun.
"Only his beloved was surprised by the sight, then appalled. He fled to the bathroom, and made his escape to a place so… far… You could say it was other-wordly. And this blond boy, he told himself it was alright, that patience and care was all that was needed, till he became his beloved's beloved"
Wolfram grinned at the sky, the creeping darkness throwing his face into shadows, eyes gleaming like a cat's in front of a fire.
"The story doesn't have a happy ending, you know"
And Hedrid, he knew who it was that Wolfram wanted, still wanted, and he didn't like it, but when Wolfram sounded like that, because of someone like that, when Wolfram told him a secret like that, feeling like that, Hedrid couldn't resist the urge to make him feel better. At least a little.
The sun always returned to the world, come daybreak.
"Not yet, my lord. But beloveds change, and the loving one changes, and they can change so much, that it may even be enough for the boy of your story to have his happy ending. Beloveds notwithstanding"
Hedrid wasn't entirely sure what he was saying, but if it ended with Wolfram looking startled, then with Wolfram turning to face him with a half-smile, well, he couldn't have done things very wrong.
"The blond boy intends to find out, Hedrid. Beloveds notwithstanding"
oOoOo
"Gods. I cannot believe how patient I have been, to have actually allowed the both of you to waste my time until night-time"
It was true. While being a terrific listener, Mikael's patience has never been compared to the ocean. More like a small puddle in the noonday sun, after a few carriages had driven through it.
How he had managed to survive being cooped up with Yuuri of all people, he would never know. He put it down to Wolfram's presence being so full of positive energy that even his patience had grown thanks to him.
Yuuri had alternated between quiet periods of frowning childishly and trying to reason, again and again, that Wolfram needed to go back with them. He hadn't even noticed the shadows growing longer and eventually enveloping everything.
"It's not wasting time! We're trying to get Wolfram back!"
"And I've replied this before to your childish demands. Wolfram will decide where he wants to go, and he's decided against you, so you will not get him back. Really, it's not a difficult concept!"
Back to childish pouting. Murata breaks the tension.
"It's dark already, guys. I don't think we can keep up this… stunning debate very intelligently any longer. Even His Highnesses need their rest! So… shall we end this for the night?"
Yuuri grumbled his agreement. He was tired, and sleepy, and a swift recharge would mean he could be back to clawing at Mikael's determination to keep Wolfram bright and early tomorrow. If he had actual claws, Yuuri would be flexing them now.
"What, do you expect me to let you both stay here tonight? The smug git and the possibly perverted wimp? I do not know the customs of hospitality in your country, but I doubt it goes to extending shelter to people you don't like!"
Murata grinned.
"It does actually. We're a really caring society, the demons. After all this, if you came to visit Blood Pledge Castle, you'd get a room fit for a king to stay in! Even with your serial-kidnapper status"
"Wait… Why am I the possibly perverted wimp?!"
There was still wine in the jug on the table, and Mikael poured himself a glass, wincing slightly at the taste of lukewarm wine.
"Because you are undecided in your intentions for Wolfram, and may therefore break into his room to have your way with him before saying you… aren't gay, I believe the term is. See? Possibly perverted"
"What? What? To begin with, if I tried anything on Wolfram that he didn't want, magic or no magic he'd beat me to a bloody pulp! The only problem for you would be trying to find a maid willing to scrape me off the floor!"
Mikael refilled his glass.
"Not a mention of you not wanting to try things with Wolfram. You know, if I wasn't a king, and an all-round nice man, I would do what I want and throw you all out on your bums"
There must be a better way to heal a headache than wine. Seriously. Else I'd be an alcoholic before the year is out.
"Sadly, that would put me into even more trouble than I already am in, so I can't tie you to horses, slap their flanks, and wave goodbye as they run off into the night. So… You"
He nodded at Murata, who had discreetly pushed his chair closer to a lit lantern, sitting with his legs curled up, bristling with displeasure that even the steward who came in to light the lantern had merely smirked at him, instead of handing him the blanket the man had in his hands.
The blanket was handed to Mikael, who tossed it aside without a second thought.
Murata had done away with glinting glasses to show his cold fury, openly glaring.
He completely ignored the fact that his scowl was comical seeing his state of… undress.
"What?"
"If you promise you have no intention of doing anything even vaguely sexual towards my Wolf, you can get a decent suite with a bed and your own washroom and… stuff"
Under normal conditions, Murata would have declined, because of his Pride, his Dignity, his Sense of Self.
All three summed up together weren't worth a comfortable bed and a nice, hot shower.
Murata had his priorities straight in life. Pride wasn't worth squat when you wake up the next day with an aching back from sleeping on the ground.
"You have my bloody immortal word"
"Umm… right. His Majesty can go and sleep down near the bunkers. There's a small room there, and it's right next to the room Hedrid stays in whenever I need him overnight. See you in the morning!"
"Wait! Where will you be staying tonight, huh? I don't care what Wolfram said, you are not allowed to spend a night with him! I'll set Gunter on you for breaking the law with, with… a former minor, or something! And then Gwen will come after you himself for defiling his baby brother, then only God can help you, you know, because the last time anyone tried anything on Wolfram, the guy, well, he nearly lost his right hand, you know. So! So, Where will you be staying?"
Mikael grinned.
"Why, I'll be staying wherever my Wolf wants me to stay. If you understand my meaning"
Mikael knew that Wolfram didn't feel that way about him, not yet at least. He had snuck in a sleepover with the blond because he was unconscious. Doing it once again without a similar life-threatening event would cost him…probably an arm. It'll be the part he can reach most easily from the bedside. I'd let him reach other more vulnerable bits of me while I'm on the bed, but that is a warm, happy thought for later.
"I think you should both rest now, gentlemen. You have an important message to carry home tomorrow, never let it be said that as your host I did not allow you to be well rested before heading back. This will all be over tomorrow, with daylight"
"Don't I get to say goodnight to Wolfram?"
Mikael stood, picked up the discarded blanket and politely handed it to a still-scowling Murata, and opened the door to call for guards to escort them to their rooms.
"What would be the point? He has already said goodbye"
oOoOo
The bed was narrow and uncomfortable, the blanket thin and scratchy. The window was set high in the wall, giving the already small room a distinctly cell-like nature. The walls were bare stone, lamps flickering at head-height in their stands. Moonlight shone in weakly, and Yuuri was rolling around on the floor, clutching his head in his hands.
Too much thinking in one day had burnt out Yuuri's brain, and at least the feel of cool stone against the back of his head helped with the overheating problem.
He flopped an arm over his face, groaning for lack of a better thing to do. The room, tiny though it was, felt endlessly lonely. No warm body next to him, no sound of soft rustling on the other side of the wall.
Just dark stones, completely, eerily quiet but for the flickering of the flames.
Yuuri was not happy. Yuuri was not happy at all.
Coming from a close-knit family into an adoptive demon nation, being alone was an unpleasant feeling. Especially when he was alone at night, when the next day would determine Wolfram's fate.
He couldn't sleep.
Yuuri rolled over, and was for once grateful for the smallness of the room, because the slight movement almost had him pressed against the door, the tip of his nose brushing against the wood.
"Umm… Hello? Is anyone up?"
There was a scraping of boots against the floor, before the door was pulled back. Yuuri blinked at the brighter light from the passage outside, looking up into the upturned face of…
"You're… Mister Hedrid, right?"
"Just Hedrid will suffice, Your Majesty. How may I be of service?"
The older man had not expected to see the King of the Demons spread out on the floor by his feet, and for the briefest of moments had entertained the horror of the thought that the boy lay dead by Yuuri's own hand, in despair over the loss of Von Bielefelt.
It's amazing how much I have grown due to this experience. If I had been faced with this a few weeks ago, I would have been screaming like a little child now.
"Yes, Your Majesty?"
Yuuri sat up, scooted backwards and leaned against the side of the cot, smiling bashfully up at the other man.
"Sorry to keep you up, but its kind of quiet, so I was wondering… Would you mind talking to me, or something? So that it's… noisier."
Hedrid wondered when the gods above had designated him as the go-to man for people with emotional problems. Gods knew he wasn't trained in this. The castle had a healer for this sort of thing for a reason. Not that any of the people who had spoken to Hedrid recently knew what it was.
The man sighed, nodded, and moved to sit on the rickety wooden chair situated to one side of the room, being sure to close the door behind him. Gossipy maids are the same the world over, and the last thing Hedrid needed was for some red-faced chit to go screaming down the hallways about his (non-existent) love affair with some foreign brat.
He did not need his wife sprinting to the castle with a cleaver in her hand and Leis wrapped around her waist. Again.
"Of course, Your Majesty"
The first few minutes passed by in an awkward silence, Yuuri staring blankly at the window, Hedrid mentally recounting the names of all noblemen and ladies in Balera.
"You know that Wolfram's not some random pretty boy your king picked up right? That's he's actually a noble… demon from my country"
Of course I do. I kidnapped him.
"I am aware of the fact, your Majesty"
"Then why won't he come home?"
"You would be better off asking him that, Your Majesty"
"I did! But he said all kinds of terrible things that made me feel really awful, only Wolf won't come back and let me make everyone apologise to him!"
Hedrid had absolutely no interest in helping this particular boy win the fair Bielefelt's heart, but the sheer wretchedness of Yuuri's voice once again tore into his defences.
Hedrid made a mental note not to base his emotional stability on the hope that other people wouldn't make good use of his push-over, paternal side. It was obviously a method meant for failure.
"If his Lordship finds it unforgiveable, then he would not want to go near the source that caused him grief. It's not difficult to understand"
Yuuri slid down a little, so that only his shoulder blades were pressed against the side of the bed frame, face forced to look at the ceiling.
"Nothing is so bad that it's unforgiveable"
"Rape, Your Majesty? Murder? Betrayal, deceit? I cannot imagine those being easy things to forgive and forget"
The boy shuddered at the mention of the first word. Back on Earth, reading about rape cases always had him being thankful to whatever deity had seen fit not to give him a sister to be worried about. With the arrival of Greta came an influx of justified (and plain paranoid) fears.
Wolfram's growling, protective behaviour always managed to offset the worry, because even the most determined of evil-doers would have a hell of a time trying to break through to hurt Wolfram's family.
"How about being the refusing one in an unrequited love?"
"I would certainly be upset at such a person, Your Majesty"
Silence reigned again.
"I don't want Wolfram to stay here"
"I believe that is not your choice to make, sire"
"I don't understand why you guys think it's Mikael's choice either!"
Hedrid shrugged, because the situation, if not politeness, called for it.
"It was not my king that made it, he just wished for it. All matters concerning Lord Bielefelt were put before his Lordship before anyone else"
"I won't leave without him!"
"You are welcome to negotiate the issue of citizenship with King Mikael, of course"
Yuuri groaned and thunked his head against the wood of the frame. The sound seemed to soothe him, and he began rhythmically hitting his head against the wood, listening to the dull sound echo, reveling in the slow burning ache blooming from the point of contact.
"You know what? I don't care. You can do what you like, but at the end of the day you people stole him away, and I'll get him back, and when he gets back, he'll be happy he does, because I'm going to reform everybody, and Wolfram will be happy and at home. He's done it for me too many times for me to stop short now!"
He flexed the hand that had held Wolfram's earlier in the day, remembering the burning warmth of the touch, the mild numbness caused by Wolfram's strong grip.
"I'm not letting go of him this time. Even if he wants to be a brat and won't let me hold his hand, I still won't let go"
oOoOo
Murata was warm and sated, the hot bath erasing all the aches, the feel of cloth on his skin sheer pleasure. While always one to look to the future, Murata decided that the ones who created it could handle the mess, and he'd watch tomorrow in more of an observing capacity than one of action.
Things had to end well. They just had to.
Until then, there was no use worrying. There was real goose-feather in the pillows, and he would take his leave for much-needed rest, thank you very much.
oOoOo
Mikael sat out on his balcony, huddled against the short pillars, staring out at nothing in particular. Tomorrow would be a big day, a beginning day, an ending day.
Anything and everything would be decided, and he could busy himself with learning more about his blond, the bravest Bielefelt in the world, the most unflappable, the most lovable.
And there wouldn't be anymore hurt in those pretty eyes, because Mikael would distract him from being miserable, and maybe if he got lucky, on a day when his sense of humour was running wild with the adage 'take no prisoners' in mind, I could actually make Wolfram laugh!
It was a pleasant thought, proven because even with a smile Mikael's heart was already set aflutter.
Wonder how his laughter would sound like. Won't be tinkly like some silly female's, not my Wolf. Probably not anything very deep and boisterous, nothing with the clear syllables "Ha! Ha! Ha!" in.
Something wonderful Mikael decided, snuggling deeper into his blanket. It would be an interesting, wonderful day tomorrow.
Maybe.
Because Wolfram would be Wolfram, and Wolfram was the single, wildest wild card Mikael had ever had in his hand, and all that power that he had, it wasn't really his, and Mikael knew that Wolfram could leave, and he would allow it, anytime the blond felt like it.
The thought made him feel just a little sick inside, but he drew a deep breath, calmed himself, then got lost staring into the moon.
oOoOo
The blanket on his bed was yellow. In his old room, even in the room he forced himself into with Yuuri, it was always regal blues and polite pinks.
The bright yellow was cheerful, and Wolfram found that he liked the colour. Fingers moved over the raised patterns of embroidered flowers, marveling at the detail and the feel of the material.
He pulled his knees up, and Wolfram leaned back against the headboard.
He wondered if he wanted to cry. Wolfram hunched over, put his face in his hands, and waited curiously to see if his hands would get wet the way they did when Yuuri had left for Earth forever, at least, he had thought it would be for forever. Certainly both this time and that one involved Wolfram losing Yuuri, but this time, his hands were dry.
Wolfram didn't know if his grief was being repressed. He couldn't be certain if he really didn't want to cry, or if some misguided feeling of egotism was stopping him from showing his sadness.
Still Wolfram's hands were dry, and his eyes were not hazy with tears.
He wondered if he was allowed to feel a little bit proud that he was being so mature about all of this. Renouncing everything he was used to for a shot at unsullied happiness, a chance to be blindly pleased about things.
A new experience, without any of the companions he had made while he was still Wolfram Von Bielefelt, the noble demon brat.
Tomorrow, he swore. Tomorrow I will be Wolfram, just Wolfram. I will be anything I want, and nothing that I don't want to be. No title around my neck, no duties to force away the slack in my back, no calls of misplaced honour to place my life down for any higher-ranking demon who needs it.
He wondered if it was alright, that he was smiling at the yellow blanket now, instead of crying or breaking things.
Tomorrow they will meet Wolfram, the breakable loudmouth underneath the brat and the soldier and the fiancé. I like him.
oOoOo
WBC
For the wonderful gokigenyou, without whom this story would have remained unfinished forever.
Hi guys! I'm getting some important result things on Thursday, gloomy Thursday, and will probably be depressed as a result for… the next month or so. So perk up my morale people, and review! I like this chapter, for some reason… It was surprisingly easy to write. And I think there were funny moments in there :)
I got over 30 reviews for the last chapter, oh. Mai. Gawd. You guys PWN something awesome. I could've died from the shock! There's a chapter left, you know. Maybe two, depends.
Anyone interested in another long fic from me? Or has this tired you guys out? XD I'm continuously pleasantly surprised that my long-winded over-exuberance in writing (This chapter wasn't even supposed to glance 7000 words), so hurrah for you guys! So. Much. Win.
Next update shan't be too long, hopefully. Read and review!
Edit: Sorry! One odd request. Anyone who's ever had any experience studying out of your own country... Drop me a line, maybe? Ignore if it's too odd. Which I suspect it is. Heh.