Previously:
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.
Last chapter, everyone. Grab a cup of sweet tea, and possibly some Kleenex. Here's the end.
The morning dawned hot and humid, and castlewide people groaned as they woke up sticky and tangled in their bed sheets, sweat a gummy residue on skin. The night had started out quite cool, everyone burrowing under warm covers, but an unusual heat snap in the darkness before dawn now left everyone desperate for a nice, long bath.
Hedrid was no exception. Having spent most of the night awake and wracked with uncertainty about his attempts to soothe the demon king, he had only managed a few measly hours of sleep, the beginnings of dark circles under his eyes. Being a professional, he had dealt with worse cases of sleep deprivation before, but the stresses associated with a semi-botched kidnapping of a temperamental blond and the sudden arrival of unwelcome visitors had left him in a state of advanced exhaustion. Were he any less of a patient man, it would have been said that Hedrid was in a foul mood.
He was irritated, desperate for a bath and for the kingling and his sage to leave so that castle life would return to some semblance of normalcy and his conscience would stop shouting things he couldn't really understand or accommodate.
Yuuri tugged his sleeve, and he barely managed to withhold his soulful groan. The boy, and he was just a boy, had looked to him for words of reassurance regarding the blond; seeing as how Hedrid was perfectly fine with the way things had turned out, the ordeal was a painful one.
Now they both stood just outside Yuuri's holding room, both holding incredibly large, fluffy towels. Having voiced his desire to wash away the stickiness, Yuuri had gladly volunteered to follow Hedrid. The older man had originally planned to go to the communal baths used by the guards, but he doubted the wisdom of bringing along a foreign king with more naivety than Hedrid's young daughter with him.
That left the women's baths, which outnumbered the number of guards' baths two to one, because Mikael's father was a feminist in his charming, determined way, and it was his belief that women should be allowed to wash themselves in relative comfort.
The men could bear a little cramping.
Hedrid dismissed the idea. While Yuuri was no manly man, and he didn't think the other even had chest hair, for Gods' sake, he couldn't be mistaken for a female, and the penalty for bathing in the Ladies' when you weren't one was…. severe, to say the least.
There were suites that had their own showers and mini-tubs, but those didn't seem fitting for an actual king.
Hedrid sighed again, and headed off for the Royal Baths, praying most fervently that it was too early in the day for Mikael or Wolfram to be there.
Halfway across the castle, Murata rolled over and fell off the unfamiliar bed, groaning when he was awakened by a kiss from the floor.
He groped the side table, feeling for his glasses. Regardless of the time, day or night, in sun, sleet or snow, Murata could be the smartest person in any situation. All he needed were his glasses. Shinou rue the day he is asked to come up with a plan to rescue the world (again… he would testily add) and his glasses went missing.
He felt the familiar touch of cool metal and the gentle curve of the lens, retrieved them, and put them on. He took out and checked the small pocket watch he had stowed away in his stockings, and stretched when it was obvious that it was time to get up and deal with everything.
We leave for Blood Pledge today, and the fate of the Idiot Couple rests on whether Von Bielefelt decides to be characteristically stubborn about his uncharacteristically selfless decision.
Murata stifled a yawn, before standing up. There was much thinking and plotting and smooth talking to be done. It would be best if he got his morning wash out of the way before he got down to any serious verbal arm-twisting.
He stood and scratched the side of his face, deep in contemplation. While there was an in-room washroom, the bathtub was tiny, and if the People of Shin Makoku (with a capital P) expected him to do some impressive mental gymnastics today, he would do so after lounging in the delicious hot water that was bound to fill the tubs of the Royal Baths.
Murata is royal.
And I'm sweaty. Who's ever heard of a sweaty Sage saving the world?
Mikael hadn't, but that wasn't what was preying on his mind. The human king had woken up much earlier, having fallen asleep on the balcony. A light sleeper, the first pinpricks of sunlight had him to full coherent consciousness.
And Mikael decided to go and get Wolfram.
Wolfram loves his bath time, so if I go and wake him up early and he gets to soak a bit longer before I boot the demons out, he'll probably feel better. Besides, bathing before eating builds up an appetite, right?
Mikael's ulterior motive to his already ulterior motive to put Wolfram in a good mood involved some of his favourite words in the world.
Naked. And Wolfram.
Because the previous few times the blond had bathed, the king had been barred from entry, promised a method of death so excruciating that the hell he would certainly fall to after he had finally died would seem like a walk in the park compared to the horrors Wolfram would unleash on him.
Now… Well, now Wolfram's not indebted to be anything to anybody! If he feels well enough, and probably relieved enough, asking to wash his back would be a show of- of solidarity! And camaraderie!
And several less than noble things, but Mikael was not that weak. Getting to spend time with Wolfram in that quaint, domestic way, washing each other's backs and relaxing in the water, that was already wonderful enough, without requiring any sort of inherent… naughtiness.
Still, he could hardly keep the spring out of his step as he rounded up some clean clothes for him and Wolfram to wear after.
Long legs made the journey to the Yellow room a short one, and before he knew it Mikael was knocking on the door, giant, silly grin set in place on his face.
No one answered, so Mikael knocked once more before entering, a loud, cheery "Good Morning!" dying on his lips the moment he spotted the blond…
… who was an unmoving lump on the bed, huddled under bright yellow blankets despite the stifling heat.
Mikael feared the worst. Maybe all of yesterday had been a brave front, and Wolfram had decided to end all the needless aggravation once and for all by… by….
Mikael wondered how one would go about killing one's self with a blanket.
He lunged at the lump, shouting Wolfram's name in that high-pitched, terrified tone that was incredibly girly, and one he refused to believe he was capable of when Hedrid had told him about it after he had been surprised by a bird flying into his face.
"What is wrong with you now?"
Mikael would never again feel so overjoyed to be growled at. Caution was rudely thrown to the wind, and Mikael threw his arms around the scowling blond, before hastily jumping back to avoid a swinging arm that could cause actual damage to his jaw.
"Just utterly ecstatic to see you, Wolfram! I was wondering, since it's so hot, shall we go and have a bath?"
Wolfram kicked off his blanket, and ignored the decidedly larger grin Mikael had when he was revealed in nothing but his pyjama pants. He stretched like an irritated cat, and cracked his back. The bed was really much softer than the ones he was used to.
"If you meant anything even vaguely perverted by that, I will throw you into the moat." The blond groaned at the sticky feeling of drying sweat on his skin. "It's too hot for me to deal with any of your foolishness, Mikael. Consider yourself warned"
"Warned as you wish, my lord! See, I even brought along towels for your use! I could not decide which colour would appeal to you more at this time of day, so…"
Mikael stared anxiously at the pile of multi-coloured towels he had dropped at the foot of the bed, trying his best to guess Wolfram's favourite colour in the morning.
Wolfram growled again, brushing past Mikael and randomly grabbing a bright geen towel with odd orange designs on it from the stack.
"Every colour is equally horrible this early in the morning"
Note to self: My pretty lord is not much of a morning person. Nor does he like heat, despite being a fire demon.
Mikael ogled the blond walking ahead of him happily.
He also looks stunning in sleepwear.
oOoOo
And so it was a strange group that stumbled into each other at the entrance to the Royal Baths, expressions ranging from the still-sleepy to the downright disgusted.
"You are not allowed to pollute the waters that I'm about to bathe with Wolfram in!"
"Oh! Oh! You shouldn't even be allowed to bathe with Wolfram!"
"Yes, let's all be mature about this and bicker like idiots in the hall"
"Your Majesty…"
The noise snapped Wolfram out of his snooze, and he growled as he shoved his way to slamming the wooden doors open, everyone silencing when sweet-smelling steam billowed outwards.
"Shut up and shower, or get out. I am not in the mood to humour loud noises this early in the morning"
They marched in behind him in a single file, Mikael between Murata and Yuuri, childishly attempting to trip the both of them.
By the time Yuuri had managed to distract himself from comparing the baths to the one back home (Light colours really are nicer to bathe in… The guy who decided black stone was perfect for a bathroom really had no taste) Wolfram had already disappeared behind the dividers placed along the edges of the room. Like an interested audience, the remaining four men stared at the laminated paper dividing them from Wolfram undressing, feeling uncomfortable as the sound of clothes rustling rang through the quiet air.
"I know no one is even dreaming about trying to look under where my belt would have been when I step out, because I know all of you know that there will be hell to pay for it. Am I understood?"
Suddenly the ceiling was the most interesting feature in the entire room, and with a splash Wolfram was reclining in the water, completely ignoring his fully-dressed companions.
Mikael stripped hurriedly where he stood, before walking boldly to the steps that led into the deliciously warm water, Hedrid sighing like an annoyed housewife as he picked up the articles of clothing to place within a laundry basket.
This must be the most awkward situation ever. I thought that one time I walked in one Shouri playing his ero-game was bad, but that was like watching him play… Pokémon compared to this!
In theory, Yuuri had seen Wolfram naked several dozen times before. He had never had an occasion to actually think about it before, but now he was currently involved in a battle royale for the blond's affections, and I wish I'd done my sit-ups yesterday night.
"Nothing for it, Shibuya. Get undressed, and suck in your gut. Since the lighting's so dim, Bielefelt might mistake your ribs for your abs, and maybe that'll sway him"
Murata slapped his back companionably before making his way to one of the dividers, whistling a merry tune.
Guess there really isn't anything else I can do…
As Yuuri sighed and trudged away, the person in the most uncomfortable position in this awkward situation wondered what exactly he should do. Hedrid wasn't sure he could endure the mental trauma of seeing so many powerful rulers so… naked.
For one thing, he would have a hell of a time in court trying to keep a straight face without gagging or fainting any time this particular incident replayed in his mind.
Hedrid took Murata's advice, and thanked the gods mightily for having given him the foresight to wear a pair of cotton shorts within his breeches, so that there would be at least one semi-dressed adult in the case of an emergency.
And by emergency, I should imagine it would be one royal trying to drown the other. And wet shorts are infinitely better than running for the medicine man completely naked. I don't need to be given that appraising stare again.
Like that, and all of them were now in the water, seated on the steps in a wide semi-circle, eerily quiet. Only Murata seemed to be truly enjoying himself, dunking his head in the water repeatedly and happily using a washcloth to scrub himself.
This is ridiculous. The rest of them intrude upon my bathing time, there is no reason for me to feel like the one at fault! Yuuri's the one who started it, Mikael propagated it, and the Sage probably looked over the whole mess with a stupid grin. I refuse to be uncomfortable grooming myself!
With a determined frown Wolfram stood from the water, reaching behind him for a bottle of shampoo and a bar of soap.
The already quiet room became more muted than a tomb, and Wolfram could feel the temperature dropping despite the warm water lapping at his calves. Years upon years of being stared at had caused him to develop a keen sense for such things, and right now he could tell the two kings and the sage were staring at his naked back.
(Hedrid was sitting with his head bowed over his clasped hands, mentally writing out his wife's name in every language he knew, internally calling out her birth date and slowly, carefully totaling the sum of her birth date and multiplying it by any number that took his fancy. Hedrid was good at distracting himself)
"Taking a good look, boys? If you drink enough milk and exercise enough, you may have the smallest of chances of looking like this. That said, look away or I will be forced to kill all of you on the grounds of disrupting my peace"
"And stop chanting under your breath, Hedrid. It's the baths. Not a monastery"
Hedrid quietened immediately, and relinquished any hope of saving face. I'm taking a sabbatical after this. Maybe go climb a mountain by myself. Anywhere there is tranquility, peace, and an abject lack of other people.
"Wolf, would you like me to wash your back?"
Wolfram froze, and stared blankly at Mikael for a moment.
It's against common decency to let a man that isn't my lover wash my back. It would be a mark on my honour, and it is unthinkable to do such a thing in polite company! And Mikael the idiot, he is only offering because he wants to annoy Yuuri!
All indications led Wolfram to believe that a sharp, cutting "no" ought to have been the answer.
But Wolfram had already made a decision to pack up all sense of compliancy and send it to the bottom of the sea (so he couldn't retrieve it even if he wanted to. Sea-sickness wasn't worth empty obedience).
Trying to do what was right never worked before. I do not believe it would be worth the effort now.
"Fine"
Were it a possible feat, the sound of Yuuri's and Mikael's jaws breaking the water's surface would have been audible. As it was, the only sound that answered Wolfram was Murata's surprised "Oho!" and Hedrid's somewhat strangled scream. And a few moments later, the sound of splashing as Mikael dove for the washcloth on the edge of the tub.
"Bless your heart, Wolfram Von Bielefelt!"
"Do not take it as my allowing you to do anything inappropriate. And after what I decided, I honestly doubt I would be allowed to use 'Von Bielefelt' after my name anymore"
Yuuri was just about to protest and vow his support for Wolfram keeping his full name, Wolfram's just not as… Wolfram if there isn't the smug-sounding Bielefelt after it! And besides, he has to know that we wouldn't take his name away from him! It's his name, for God's sake! I can't imagine it'll make him want to come back to us any more if we do such a horrible, nasty thing!
Mikael beat him to the punch as the other boy approached Wolfram's pale back, holding the washcloth like it was the single most precious article of cloth in the entire history of existence. Evidently, to a man in love, it was. A bar of soap was in his other hand, and that was treated like a block of solid wonder incarnate.
He waved a hand dismissively, even though Wolfram couldn't see him, facing the wall with a look of controlled panic and unwavering determination. Why, the trembling was unnoticeable to anyone with an untrained eye.
"Don't be so glum my Wolf! I am a king, fool though I look like. It's well within my power to name a gorgeous little territory somewhere Biellefeld or something, Bielefelt even, if you are feeling brave, and you can be elected Lord, and therefore, be Von Bielefelt again"
"Elected?"
Mikael stopped walking (stalking) towards Wolfram but didn't turn around to look at Murata, small frown on his face.
"Yes, elected. We don't believe much in allowing titles to be inherited. The lords that have grandeur in their very blood have a guaranteed post as advisor, but the ruling Lord is elected from the territorial aristocrats by the people. Helps keep everyone working hard instead of slipping into complacency. And for my Lord Wolf, I will be advocating his sheer brilliance, so that isn't much of a problem"
So shut up and let me wash his back! went unsaid.
Wolfram flinched slightly when he felt Mikael prod his back carefully with the cloth, unable to fight down the grin at the realization that despite his show of bravado and swagger, Mikael was worried that he would either turn around and snap Mikael's arm off, or slump over the side of the bath in tears.
Wolfram had no intention of doing either, and the realization that how he felt about the entire situation weighed heavily on Mikael's mind made Wolfram relax, muscle by muscle, until he was actually enjoying the nostalgic feeling of someone he trusted washing his back.
Like it was before Gwendal grew up too fast, Mother's chest made me feel awkward, and Weller became a human. When it was alright to be afraid and annoying and soft and loud.
Wolfram sighed, and Mikael blushed like a schoolgirl.
"Wolfram!"
A lazy green eye slid to look at him, and Yuuri growled.
"What?"
"You shouldn't be doing this! Or letting him do this!"
"You have been offered everything before, Your Majesty, and you said no. Here, now, you may not say no again"
But I don't want anyone touching you! No one should be touching anyone else! We should all be sitting down drinking hot tea fully-clothed and speaking nicely about the weather, and, and Mikael saying that he's wrong, really, and Wolfram snapping out of his weird mood and hitting me over the head with a candlestick and dragging me back by the ear and insisting that he loves me and stuff and stuff and stuff and, and… Wolfram's supposed to only want to do that for me! I want to say NO!
"Cat caught your tongue, Shibuya?" Or is it the Wolf that did it?
"I don't like seeing you… like this, Wolf"
"Happy?"
Yuuri grit his teeth.
"Not… you"
The green eye slipped shut.
"You do mean happy, Your Majesty"
"You're not being fair"
"For once, I don't care"
oOoOo
It was the single oddest State Luncheon anyone in Petrach Castle could ever remember holding.
For one thing, all the heads of state were wearing short cotton robes over shorts because the weather had morphed from being irritatingly warm to unbearably hot. Pitchers full of ice were brought for each person at the table, the cold containers sometimes used to be pressed against an overheated forehead or sweaty arm.
For another, there were about three attending guards per person, and all of them were breathing much more heavily than even the weather warranted. All the occupants of the table were glaring at each other, and except for the setting at Wolfram's seat, there was a conspicuous lack of anything even vaguely resembling knives on the table.
And perhaps the oddest thing of all was the pile of feather cushions stacked by each of the guards, and the random burst of floral patterns of cushions lying harmlessly on the floor.
And the meat knife imbedded into the frame of a portrait of some long-ago dead king, but Hedrid took full responsibility for that.
"How do you expect us to eat the steak without knives?"
Mikael growled back at Yuuri.
"You should have thought about that before pulling that stunt of yours!"
Yuuri pouted.
"How many times do you need me to tell you that it was an accident?!"
"You may repeat yourself from now until eternity, Your Majesty. And you may do so while eating beef with your spoon"
Murata was happily going at it with a fork and his hands, and wiped the pepper sauce off his face before nodding sagely.
"You have to admit Shibuya, that first time might've been an accident, but after that… You were ridiculously obvious, you know"
The double-black king turned a bright shade of red.
"I have no idea what you're talking about…"
"The Sage is talking about your four attempts of throwing knives at both me and Mikael, Your Majesty" said Wolfram, calmly cutting the meat into small chunks and eating them with the grace that came as much from practice as it did from any natural ability.
Murata snorted.
"Amazing, really, Shibuya. Took you years to understand the nuances of customs in Shin Makoku, and you realised that the same throwing-a-knife-instead-of-a-gauntlet gig counted as an invitation for a duel just by looking at His Highness' face when you dropped the butter knife"
And that in itself was an explanation for all the oddities.
After realising that winning a duel against either Mikael or Wolfram would give him enough leverage to haul Wolfram back with then, Yuuri had to admit, even if it was only to himself, he had gone a little knife-flinging happy.
His first attempt (the Butter Knife Incident was in fact an accident, and would have remained one had Mikael not paled and started scowling the moment the metal clinked against stone) involved him grabbing his steak knife and pushing his chair back to stand up, before declaring (much in the same way a Pokémon trainer would; Yuuri vaguely wondered about his preoccupation with the cute creatures) that "I choose you, Mikael! For a duel for Wolf-"
Before he could finish his sentence and send the knife to the ground, a rapidly-panicking Hedrid had sprinted to his side, swinging a loaf of hard bread into Yuuri's hand with enough force to send the piece of cutlery flying, moments later embedding itself into the wood of the frame.
Everyone stared at Yuuri, and Yuuri stared at everyone sheepishly.
And while the boy was wilting under the look of disappointment Wolfram was giving him, Hedrid had called for the guards who were marksmen, with the belief that they would be able to judge distances effectively and catch anything that happened to go flying.
The cushions thwarted Yuuri's second and third attempt, thrown accurately to provide an elastic landing for anything Yuuri took into his head to throw, and Murata's butter knife and Mikael's fish knife were what Yuuri had used. The guards managed to catch them on the rebound.
No one bothered to remove Wolfram's knives. Yuuri might have been verging on desperation, but it was universally understood that Yuuri would not take anything away from Wolfram. No matter how small a matter silverware might appear to be.
"It is a testament to how merciful I am, you know, to even bother feeding you before you leave. I could have just let you out on your royal bum unfed and hungry, and to show your appreciation, you tried to get into a duel with Wolfram. Again. I do believe the concept is eluding you, King Shibuya. You do not hurt the ones you love! Whenever it appears that your passion to be bad-tempered will overwhelm you, go and hit a tree or something! You do not take it out on other people. You do not take it out on Wolfram"
Wolfram had moved on to his dessert by then, being in full possession of suitable dining utensils. Even Mikael was busy stabbing the steak with his fork as he ranted, and Wolfram frowned.
"I'm not a glass doll, Mikael, nor am I a woman with a weak heart, liable to break into sobs the moment someone crosses me. King Shibuya was within his rights to demand a duel, and you are within your rights to go to great lengths-" slightly amused eyes met Hedrid's, and the man felt like he was ten feet tall. He didn't know why, but feeling happy in response to anything Wolfram said made this the kind of situation during which he really, really shouldn't look a gift Wolf in the mouth, so he wouldn't, "-to prevent it. And you little fool, for someone who says such noble things, you would do well to remember that during your period of frustration over me, you took out some anger on poor, senseless Hedrid. So stop talking about stupid, inconsequential things, and try to finish this meal with at least some semblance of dignity. Or else"
Wolfram went back to the soft caramel pudding in his plate, completely ignoring Mikael's pout and Yuuri's outraged expression. Between the food in front of him and the present company, Wolfram didn't think it made him a bad person to choose gluttony.
He scooped a little of the wobbling flesh into his mouth, and blushed beet red.
Yuuri and Mikael were on their feet the second after, with Yuuri shouting for Mikael to smack the pudding off the table, it was obviously poisoned, oh my God, what have you done, Wolf's been poisoned.
Mikael looked like he believed Yuuri and already had his hand on the lip of the bowl before Wolfram grabbed his wrist in an iron grip.
"He's going into convulsions! Calm down Wolf, remember how I taught you to breathe! Hi, hi, hu! Hi, hi, hu! Spit it out Wolf, I'm sure Giesela can heal the poison if you spit it out right now!"
By this time Yuuri had made it to Wolfram's side, holding his bare hand out in the universal gesture familiar to parents in every dimension when their child eats something he isn't supposed to.
Wolfram thought that it was really rather sweet of his ex-wimp to offer a royal hand to be spat on, and patted it away almost kindly as he swallowed his mouthful.
"Settle down, wimp, I have not been poisoned. You might never see it, but no item of food is set on the same table as a king without having someone else previously taste it. Do you think they would suddenly become lax when there are so many important people? " Wolfram snorted, and forgot all about the current situation, complete with the burgeoning tension between the representatives of Her Blessed Land Shin Makoku and him, one Wolfram, Von Bielefelt to be confirmed at a later date.
Almost smiling he scooped a little more of the pudding and force-fed Yuuri with it, a gesture that had over the years been repeated so often that it was second nature for him to do it.
Yuuri nearly choked on it, but swallowed automatically out of what was second nature to him too.
"…mmph…. Oh! Wow, that's delicious! I thought Sangria made awesome pudding, but this tastes much nicer!" Yuuri laughed a little. "I forgot how, umm… excited you get when you get to eat nice desserts Wolf"
"I must say I'm surprised. Sangria is the best pudding maker in Shin Makoku, and this is just… The best pudding I have ever tasted"
Yuuri nodded and bent over to get himself another spoonful. Reality had yet to penetrate the fog old, pleasant habits had created.
"Make sure you get the recipe, Wolf. Gwendal'd kill to get to cook like this. Especially since his last attempt at making pudding came to life and bit him, though that's mostly Anissina's fault…"
Someone cleared his throat, and Yuuri was staring at Wolfram's throat as his mind was away and remembering that fateful day, so he knew that it wasn't Wolfram.
He also knew it wasn't him, because it was the kind of thing a person would realise, clearing one's own throat.
His face fell, just as Wolfram's tightened
Yuuri thought he would cry.
I was having a nice chat with Wolfram. When was the last time I got to have a chat with him?! He was being himself again, loud and blustery and easily distracted by sweet things, and then he was being Wolf-nice and feeding me, and then when it felt like everything was just about to get back to normal, someone had to have a sore throat!
Yuuri hated that throat quite violently.
He didn't think it would be Murata's, but for today at least, Yuuri would forgive himself for hating a friend's body part.
The bespectacled boy held up a finger.
"Boys, firstly, that was completely inappropriate. Looks like King Mikael might throw a tantrum, he's so wildly jealous" Murata grinned at Mikael, who was looking at his wrist that Wolfram had released almost as fast as he had grabbed, scowling.
"And perhaps more importantly, and I believe this is my duty to tell both of you, there was some indirect kissing involved, just now. How kinky, both of you sharing a spoon"
The word 'spoon' isn't an innuendo in any language!
Sharing similar outraged thoughts, the remaining three boys (two of whom were blushing horribly) took it upon themselves to throw whatever heavy, dangerous instrument they had at hand at the Sage, who was grinning widely as he ducked for cover.
oOoOo
A couple of horses were being saddled, with packs containing supplies and blankets. Mikael had told the both of them that he didn't care how Murata and Yuuri had managed to reach Balera so fast; all he wanted was for them to be gone as swiftly too.
Which was a blatant lie, because Mikael and Hedrid and the Commander and the General all wanted to know what secret demonic way the two of them had used to move so far so fast. But Wolfram had growled at Mikael to not ask any questions of the sort, and even if Mikael still wanted to despite it being against his Wolf's wishes, the slant to those green eyes told him that Wolfram meant business.
And by business he meant the business end of his sword. Seeing as how even Hedrid couldn't fare well in a duel with Wolfram, and Mikael wanted neither to hurt Wolfram nor be hurt by Wolfram, all tongues went unwaggled.
They were out in the stables, and it was a bright, hot day. The sky was clear, the sun was shining, and small, brightly-coloured birds were merrily singing their little hearts out.
Wolfram was leaning heavily with his back against the stone wall, eyes facing the small servants' entrance to the castle but not really noticing anything, lost in his own thoughts. In his worried belief that Wolfram would change his mind, Mikael stood next to him, their shoulders almost brushing, fidgeting slightly. He never could stand still when he was anxious; the first time he had taken part in a dueling competition a distraught Mikael nearly sliced his foot off, his hands were shaking so badly.
He had full-body armour then; the worst that would have happened was the sword cracking and the metal covering on his foot getting scratched. There wasn't much in the way of defenses now, if Wolfram chose to leave. There wasn't a suit of armour he could dive into as Wolfram prepared to deliver the news, isolated from the heartache by a protective layer.
Mikael stared discreetly at his Wolf, and sighed to himself.
He was a man who knew his mind, and he knew he had it bad. Were he in possession of more artistic inclinations, Mikael would have written a sonnet, a play and a poem all about the dancing fingers of wind in those blond strands and the way no green glittered the way Wolfram's did in the light of the sun.
It's worth it. Whatever Wolfram decides, whatever cost I may have to pay for this, it is worth it to have been in love. Nothing makes a man more unintelligent, yet proportionately braver, than silly wide-eyed warm feelings. And they may be a burden and an irritation, but Wolfram is Wolfram and those things are more a necessity than anything else.
Wolfram's mind was occupied with matters of love as well, but they were nowhere near so dramatic as Mikael's. Despite being short-tempered and (he admitted this to himself; not a word would be said to others to confirm it though) selfish, Wolfram was pragmatic at heart. He also knew better than to listen to his logic, when instinct had served him so well where intellect had failed to help.
Everything informed him that his choice, as well as his reasoning, was the right one, so on that count Wolfram was as content as Wolfram could be, in such a diabolically unfair situation.
What he was thinking about was what the response of the people back in Shin Makoku (It would not be fair to consider it home any more, would it?), those who were supposed to love him as only a family could.
He wondered what they would say about his decision.
Greta would most likely be confused, though she will get over any minor feeling of loss swiftly enough. Mother just has to wait patiently for Yuuri to get a wife, then she has a doll to paint and dress. Gwendal would leave for the Temple to send his thanks to Shinou, no doubt, that another of his life's stresses has been removed. Weller would carry on pursuing Yuuri with that look of misplaced longing on his face, but what does it matter? There is something fundamentally incorrect with the both of us; I cannot believe I wasted so much worry on a relationship that was as fictional and doomed between them as it was between me and him.
The thoughts were almost neutral, as if he was thinking about them from a long way away, and the anesthetic Giesela applied liberally when operating had shrouded his mind. Wolfram didn't find it an unpleasant way of confronting his feelings; it was clean and clear-cut, and to the best of his knowledge, he had drawn no incorrect conclusion.
Wolfram suspected that his observances were heavily coloured by unhappy experiences suffered by a child when time was too scarce for anyone to come to his aid, but he reasoned that as things had not really changed even after he became an adult, his conclusions could not be far from wrong.
It was sad to think of family, the people one was allowed to love as stupidly and deeply as one could, so impersonally and heartlessly, but Wolfram knew they didn't love him as strongly as he loved them, in the twisted way that a conflicted childhood caused.
A cloud passed overhead, a puff of glaringly bright whiteness in the endlessly blue sky; the cloud was a passing companion, and the sky stretched to where it covered the heads of the important people that he couldn't afford to keep any more.
Wolfram couldn't help his smile. He was doing the right thing, wasn't he?
A press against his shoulder, and Wolfram turned to see Mikael leaning half against him and half against the wall, pointedly looking away, worry creasing his brow.
A show of support, even if Wolfram doubted the human had any idea what was running through his mind.
He leaned back against him.
oOoOo
They trudged towards the stable, food packs in hand handed to them by a woman with flour in her hair and a scowl on her chapped lips. One Mrs. Norrel, head cook. Yuuri wasn't sure what he had done to offend her, but had no doubt that it was Wolfram-related.
All his offenses seemed to be Wolfram-related, lately.
"What's with the emo-face, Shibuya?"
Yuuri turned to frown at Murata, who seemed largely unmoved that their mission was a failure and they would be returning with empty hands.
"How come you don't seem to mind that we've lost Wolfram?"
Murata looked up from rummaging in his pack, before triumphantly pulling out a sandwich wrapped in this world's version of cling film. Giesela had informed him that the covering could be eaten; it was like the thin tissue one could peel from a layer of onion, only the vegetable used for this was a version of a potato-like tuber.
Something Yuuri didn't know, and he made a face when Murata bit into it without removing the film.
Murata spoke with his mouth full, hungry despite their lunch earlier. "Obviously I mind. Things will be a lot quieter with him gone, and all of you guys will be moping for a very long time. What's there to like?"
"You don't look sad!"
Murata swallowed, and hit his chest to dislodge the chunk that had gone down the wrong way, coughing a little. He answered when he caught his breath back.
"Generally Shibuya, you either feel sad when something nasty happens to you or to someone you care about, right?"
Not really understanding where Murata was going with his line of questioning, Yuuri nodded cautiously.
Murata shrugged and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He really had to get the frame adjusted; a little play with his glasses added mystique, but having to push it up because it kept slipping with the smallest of gestures was downright annoying. Not to mention incredibly geeky-looking.
"So what's there to feel sad about? Nothing horrible or painful has happened to me, and dear Bielefelt said it himself: he's happy too."
Yuuri pouted.
"Well, I'm sad that Wolfram won't come back with us!"
"Why?"
Yuuri stared at Murata in confusion. What do you mean, why?
Murata shrugged again.
"Well, there's no reason for you to be sad on his behalf, he's fine. So you're sad because something bad happened to you, but what's bad when we find Wolfram safe, healthy and quiet happy?"
"He isn't safe, healthy and quiet happy where he's supposed to be"
Murata smiled and patted Yuuri's cheek in mock distress.
"For someone who isn't in any way related to Wolfram, Shibuya, it isn't up to you to decide where he's supposed to be. You think, I think, he thinks that you don't feel that special way for him. This time he's decided not to let the way he feels about you stop him from making a decision. Bielefelt has his reasons, and you'd be better off finding what those are than making sad eyes at me and telling me you know what's good for him better than he does" Murata wagged a finger in Yuuri's face, much like a displeased teacher. "And remember that you hate it when Gwennie and Weller back home try to decide things for you. How come you're letting yourself do it to Wolfram?"
The bespectacled boy laughed and continued walking along the bright halls. One thing for certain, Petrach's numerous floor-to-ceiling windows made the passages a pleasure to walk through. Murata kept the idea for renovating the temple to include more windows for later; it was something worth considering, and Shinou certainly wouldn't mind.
"Only overbearing family members and worried lovers get to demand things from a person. Funny isn't it Shibuya, how you've made yourself neither to Wolfram?"
When you could have been both hung unspoken in the air, but Murata decided it really was more than his job's worth to hammer such a thing into Yuuri's mind.
Yuuri groaned and hid his face in the pack, still walking and trusting Murata to inform him when they came to steps or uneven ground. The darkness within the cloth bag helped calm his thoughts, though not by much.
"He wants more than I can give him. At least, more than I can give him right now. But Murata, it isn't more than what I want to give! If he'd just come home, and give me a while to get used to the idea…"
"Nothing I can help you with there, Shibuya. You either love him with that bull-headed entirety he has for you, full of pointless affection and warm feelings and intense liking and lust, or you don't. You've had long enough to think. Now just answer. Do you love him?"
"I would die if it meant I could save him"
Murata snorted.
"Seeing as how you don't believe your life means for much, Shibuya, you would die to save a lot of people. That's about as much of an admission as it would be for Conrad to say the same thing about you"
The trembling in Yuuri's hands was apparent to Murata, but he wouldn't say anything until his idiotic friend came to his senses. And even then, Shinou only knows what Wolfram will do.
Yuuri tried to think about everything he had ever thought about Wolfram, and for the briefest moments felt intense anger at the blond for being able to know how he felt so easily. Guilt swamped the displeasure quickly though; Yuuri couldn't imagine any part of being in love but not being loved as fun.
I'd die for him, but I'd die for Greta and Conrad and my parents and Shouri and Murata. And I... love him, but I love all those guys too. And I don't want him to ever get hurt, but I don't want anyone to get hurt. Yuuri frowned. Wolfram's special somehow, but it isn't that I feel anything different for him than I do for my family and friends.
"Shibuya, since that last question seems to have been out of your league, just tell me this. If I was happy and in Wolfram's place instead of him, would you still be making such a funny face if I said I didn't want to leave?"
"No"
Murata laughed at the swift reply, and went back to being quiet. He had just about dropped the biggest hint possible, and if Yuuri still could not get it through his thick skull what he really felt, then… Murata would write Wolfram's and Mikael's wedding toast with much pleasure.
If there was a wedding, something that Murata had his own distinct ideas about. Having been given the front seat to a study of human and demon nature, something that has lasted thousands of years with a new realization earned from each life, Murata knew that Wolfram had abandonment issues, the kind human kids had when they did not get the attention of their parents.
Only Wolfram was short one parent from the word go, had two brothers with overpowering lives of their own, and a childhood and adolescence that lasted five times that of a normal human.
That's right thought Murata grimly. The beauty of Bielefet has low self-esteem, and no one's noticed, and he would rather kill me than have me tell his family that he thinks he's completely unwanted. The beauty of Bielefelt is sadly not very bright when it comes to family.
Yuuri meanwhile was having his own personal revelation, light dawning as day broke in The Land of Yuuri's Inner Mind.
Oh god. I don't think there's a difference in the feelings I have for Murata and Wolfram. I think… there's a difference in how much I feel. Murata leaving would make me sad, but if he's happy I wouldn't really mind it. Wolfram leaving… makes me want to scream or hit my head against the wall until I pass out so that I can wake up and he can smile or scowl at me and say that it was all a dream, you wimp, as if I'd leave you by yourself. I would die to rescue Murata, but if I died trying to save Wolfram, I want it to… buy more. It should… cost more if it's being sold for him, so that maybe Wolf gets the kingdom or more magic or something. He's… worth more than he's worth.
"You appear to have gotten the point, Shibuya"
Yuuri looked up, startled. He had not realized that he had said his final thought out loud.
"What? What point? Murata, what did I say about you and being cryptic?"
"People you love always seem worth more than their actual value; it explains why people stay in relationships with slobs and lazy asses and, in extreme cases, with abusive partners. You see things that… don't actually exist to other people. And if I told you to take it at face value, does it seem worth it for the king of an entire country to break into another country to rescue a boy who's obnoxious, loud, irritating, short-tempered, rude and prejudiced?"
The king knew that the descriptions fit Wolfram, but he couldn't help wincing hearing Murata call the blond all that.
"Sounds like the king's a complete idiot"
Murata patted his back, and his glasses glinted.
"In more ways than one. Do you love him, Shibuya?"
Yuuri imagined shoving Mikael out of the way and wrapping his arms around Wolfram and collapsing on the blond to be as close as possible, to occupy Wolfram's shoulder with his chin and Wolfram's waist with an arm, the way his dad would his mother when Shouma was feeling romantic.
"Yes"
oOoOo
"Wolfram!"
Wolfram didn't look up; being pressed against Mikael's shoulder was comforting, a solid presence by his side, and despite the importance of the day, the heat was making him sleepy. It felt nice just to lean against Mikael, and he refused to disrupt the mild contentment for Yuuri, of all people.
"Wolfram! Hey, Wolfram, concentrate! I have something important to tell you!"
Begrudgingly Wolfram tilted his head up from where he had been calmly inspecting the ground. Yuuri dominated his line of sight, large grin accompanying a bright twinkling in those dark eyes. He held a pack in his arms, and Wolfram wondered if perhaps there was another dessert the kitchen had sent along with Yuuri for him to sample. Something cold, I hope. I cannot roll up my sleeves without looking uncivilized, but oh Shinou it's hot!
Suddenly a hand was making its way to his face, and in a move that had been ingrained in him ever since the first attempted proposal when he was 40, Wolfram instinctively grabbed the wrist that followed the open palm, jerked it sharply downwards and brought his knee up to meet that body.
His subconscious mind waited for the reassuring sound of soft flesh being hit, waited to feel impact on his knee, and was sorely disappointed when neither happened.
Mikael had pulled Wolfram's hand off Yuuri's wrist with a big smirk, and in an effort to counteract Wolfram's strong pull Murata had grabbed the back of Yuuri's shirt and heaved backwards, resulting in both double blacks falling back and hitting the ground with a loud "Oomph!" when Wolfram let go of Yuuri.
"No kneeing Demon Kings senseless, my Wolf. He has so little sense as is"
Wolfram appeared to snap out of his Must-Kill-All-Proposers trance, and frowned at Yuuri. He wrenched his hand from Mikael's grip and placed it on a cocked hip.
"What" he said icily, green eyes slanted in anger, " were you attempting to do, Your Majesty?"
I'm just glad I didn't go with my first plan and try to give him a kiss on the cheek. He'd probably have knocked a couple of teeth out of my mouth!
Yuuri clambered to his feet and grinned his best, most disarming grin. One that made him look totally sincere and completely harmless, and Wolfram could feel a headache come on. I shall rest for a while after this. Maybe the kitchen has some sorbet that I can have. Or at least a herbal remedy to make me feel cooler. Maybe even a dip in the moat; Mikael does know how to swim, does he not? And I have been eyeing that moat for a good long while now, none of the castles in Shin Makoku have one, Gwendal and his inane fear that I would drown in one made certain of that.
"Wolfram!"
Wolfram snapped out of his musings.
"What?" he snapped testily.
"Wolfram!" he announced again, and Wolfram groaned at the way Yuuri kept repeating his name. It was like Mikael the first time he met him.
"Wolfram, Murata helped me figure it all out! I'm in love with you, seriously, madly in love! So now you have me at least, so you can come back now, right, and everything is brilliant!"
A silent moment passed, and were they on Demon land, Murata had no doubt the shrill cry of "Bad Omen!" would have pierced through the air. It was that kind of silence, and boded ill well for Yuuri. The semi-frown on Wolfram's brow was a heavy signal that things would not go swimmingly (he loved that phrase).
Mikael had stiffened at the first mention of the 'l' word, and had difficulty breathing. Oomph. So this is what having your stomach drop to your feet feels like. And I thought getting nauseous in a carriage was an unbearable burden. Though I doubt any of the healers have an herbal concoction to stop the world from spinning now.
Wolfram did not move.
Three people simultaneously noticed.
Wolfram did not move.
"Umm… Wolfram?" called out Yuuri tentatively, Hope making an unstable piroutte on the razor's edge between salvation and loss when previously Yuuri had been so painfully certain that he'd, he'd… come hug me or something!
A blond brow arched in question.
"Shouldn't you be leaning on, on…" Yuuri shifted nervously, scuffing his feet against the dirt ground, fidgeting with nerves and the unusual emotion of wanting to be leaned on by the prettiest boy in the world. "On me now, Wolf?"
"No, Your Majesty, my apologies. I do not feel like moving away from where I am right now, and thank you. Both for your proclamation and for your concern."
As if to rub salt in the wound (more than likely, even if he's not typically the vindictive type. Funny, how bad things can make you change types. I never used to like talking to teenagers until Shibuya got dropped on my lap, and now I'm a regular Agony Aunt. Fate's weird. Murata thought multiple tangents at once; this was one of them), Wolfram moved to lean more heavily on the stunned boy next to him. Mikael was more in shock than Yuuri, and that was not a state easily achieved.
Yuuri could have caught flying trout with his hanging jaw.
Mikael could have caught flying whales.
"Wolfram, did you perhaps not hear him clearly? He said, perhaps with more of an annoying slur than I would have, terrible elocution, anyway, the person you have been in desperate burning love with for so long, my Wolf, so long, he has just admitted to returning your feelings"
Mikael wasn't sure why he was helping Yuuri, but he was certain that there was something wrong with Wolfram choosing Mikael over Yuuri. It seemed… impossible. Like the princess and the toad, only instead of the happy ending the princess woke up one morning and starts to angrily shout at her royal husband that God, Lewis, I liked you better as an amphibian. Because Mikael had Wolfram in the head, and he knew that he was the toad to Yuuri's prince, and rather than allow the blond to be saddled with a decision he would regret, he would make Wolfram remember which of them were which.
Even if it hurt burningly behind his rib bone to say go go go when he wanted to throw a blanket over the both of them (despite the sweltering heat and the shame a king tucked under a blanket for no reason would bring) and shout he's staying staying staying!
Murata noticed the conflict in Mikael's voice calmly speaking to Wolfram while his eyes darted quick, shocked looks between Wolfram and Yuuri. It was admirable, that Mikael would so brute-headedly trample down his own shouts of jubilant triumph in order to make sure Wolfram chose fairly for Wolfram.
Good breeding, that.
Wolfram growled.
"Must everyone assume I am an idiot incapable of understanding language? Because I am not an idiot, and would hate to be on the receiving end of that assumption"
Wolfram was irritated at the way people were still treating him as though there was nary a thought in his head. Has this whole mess not at least proven I'm capable of thinking for me? And for boys who profess their love, it certainly would be more true to their vows if they would just bloody listen!
"But Wolfram!"
"Bielefeld, Shibuya just admitted to being gay-"
"My Wolf, the-"
His pores strained and his fingers itched from how blindingly furious he was; Wolfram hurt from not being able to set the aggravation on fire. Despite the esoteric stones, I think I may be burning. At least a little.
"Listen to me, for once in all your silly short lives! This is my decision, oh Shinou, after eighty odd years I am entitled to at least one! Wimp, pervert Sage and flouncing idiot, this is simple, understand it! I want to stay here, I like it here, and most importantly, I am obviously, warmly liked. Yuuri, what you feel for me matters so much it burns worse than having my arm sliced open but what a bloody happy coincidence, being kidnapped shortly before you confess!"
Finally the words are leaving my tongue intelligently. Wolfram began grinning, and all three moved away. He straightened, but he wasn't finished.
"It takes my actual death to get a confession from you, wimp. That wouldn't have been there otherwise, would it? Leaving was best, being gone was best, away was best. And here all is light, all is warmth, and I am given the choice of being the sinner or the seraph. And I have discovered, as much to my surprise as it is to yours, that I love that"
A hand carded through his hair.
"The first proper thing I have loved that is not connected to you. And I will stay until perhaps I come to a conclusion as suddenly as you have come to yours that I was in momentary infatuation, and then I shall decide again. I lived years for you. Now I want to give this the same courtesy I gave you"
Wolfram tilted his head back, crown kissing the stone of the wall, eyes admiring the bright pale blue of a sky set alight by strong sun. It was a beautiful day, really. Perfect for picnics he mused, perversely feeling better when the intensity of the brightness made his eyes water.
"Hey Yuuri?"
Yuuri was on auto-pilot. Rationale was tucked away rushing through all that Wolfram had said, trying to find a way to fix whatever was broken (What wasbroken, really?) and he answered a "Yes?" before he had quite comprehended that encouraging Wolfram now would be detrimental to his health.
Wolfram's mad smile softened to a dreamy, crooked smile.
"The love you give comes back to you, doesn't it? I gave all to you, and here I have it returned"
Yuuri fell back in shock.
Mikael hugged Wolfram.
oOoOoOo
"Did that… just… happen?"
They weren't kissing or anything, at least. Thank God for small blessings.
"It did, Shibu-chan. You just got scorned by your number one fan. He doesn't think you really understand what you meant, you know"
Mikael was still hugging Wolfram, and the blond was still dreamily looking at the sky.
"But I mean it so much I want to vomit"
Murata laughed and patted him on the back.
"Get better at being Wolfram's fan, Shibuya. You should have said something romantic like: "the love consumes my entire body until no space is left for food and drink". Vomit is just foul. Now come on, we're brave losers, aren't we? Sigh and leave, until we can meet again"
"Meet again?"
Murata laughed again, more softly this time.
"Again"
Yuuri awkwardly rose to his feet, stumbling like a newborn colt before ambling towards Wolfram. Murata followed more sagely, and stared down Mikael into moving away. Whatever else Wolfram decided his current status was, the… thing that encompassed all that made Yuuri and Wolfram want to be Yuuri and Wolfram warranted privacy for a goodbye after a spurning.
Mikael was smiling stupidly and shamelessly, teeth showing like he was three and presenting to his father the first set of dry sheets after years of serial bed-wetting.
"Does it not hurt to smile so much, Your Highness?"
It's a miracle that he can speak around his teeth!
"It's about Wolfram. Though I ought to be canonized for waiting until you both leave to flop about happily"
"And the whole issue with Wolfram supposed to be dead?"
"The one thing I may slightly like about this Yuuri of yours. He wouldn't cause Wolfram any harm in vindication. And that glorious letter you sent to the rest of the world indicates that my Wolf is simply away. Just a word or two by my men or yours in the right ear in the marketplace, and all the mourning would have been a big misunderstanding"
Mikael patted him on the back companionably, and Murata was too amused to shove him off. It was probably mild treason to be chummy with Mikael when Yuuri was in the mood to regurgitate his heart, but the world was made to be lived in as well as possible, and Murata would be a bald-faced liar if he said he didn't like Mikael. There was something to be respected in a person so intent on brutishly listening to his heart (or lust, probably, at first) that he stood to make an enemy out of the greatest Demon nation in the world.
Romantic heroism the likes of which the world had never seen!
One thing, though.
"If Wolfram wanted to go to Shin Makoku to visit, would you stop-"
Mikael flapped a hand in front of Murata's face drunkenly (joy was intoxicating), making a soft "pshaw!" sound. Murata took it as a snort of derision.
"I loved my parents when I had them" Mikael continued more seriously. "I will be the last to stop anyone, especially Wolfram, from doing the same"
That meant Wolfram was in good hands then.
Murata took the opportunity to win some minor victory for Shin Makoku, and pushed up his glasses so that they glinted in the sun with a grin.
"So Mikael, would trade with us be of any interest? I noticed the masonry while we were in the city, and-"
Because people in love couldn't keep their heads even if an entire economy depended upon it. Life was suffering, but no one said Murata would suffer failure gladly.
oOoOo
"Wolfram…"
Wolfram ruffled Yuuri's hair affectionately.
"I love you, you know"
Wolfram nodded. Things were light, and in the ethereal place were his heart existed as more than a concept and an expression, it smelled like flowers.
He was sure.
"It hurts, you know"
Better than you do, wimp.
Wolfram nodded again, and distractedly tugged an unseemly cowlick down.
"I'll miss you, you know"
The blond grinned.
"It's part of growing up, wimp. And it burns you to death, you know, to love one thing above all else, to need one thing and nothing else. But I don't have to worry, because you are Yuuri, the King with the Bottomless Heart. You don't love only me. This shall be me learning to love not only you"
Yuuri leaned his head into the hand brushing through his hair, missing the familiar gesture so much that he thought he would blurt out the vomit comparison again.
"Do you love him too?" Yuuri put intense dislike into that 'him', and Wolfram hummed a little.
"Not yet. Possibly not ever. But he is the first person I have liked so much in so long, and this, wimp… This deserves as much of my effort as I put into pursuing you. Rest assured that if this relationship can develop, it will.That is my vow to be fair to myself"
Yuuri made big sad eyes at him, and Wolfram pinched an ear sharply.
"Coming back with us would be fair"
"No it wouldn't. Not to me, not to him. Not even to you, wimp. Saying pretty words when you think they need to be said is not a healthy habit. Go back and be a good king"
The dark-haired boy frowned. "The last time you said that I was about to kill you"
Wolfram laughed, and it was pretty and hearty and just a little sad.
"Perhaps I will die this time. But I will contrive to remain living for a little longer yet. The king here needs my eye on him, and you, Your Majesty, need to learn how to let go without losing"
oOoOoOo
"Do you think he'll come to visit us, Murata?"
Hedrid, who had stayed wisely away from the dramatic showdown in the stables, waved them goodbye with much good cheer. Wolfram couldn't go outside the gates without feeling blinding pain, and currently Mikael was spiritually attached to Wolfram at the hip (Mikael had already laughingly told Murata of his plans to move his ruling center to a smaller castle nearer the ports; it was closer to the boats that would be involved in renewed trading with Shin Makoku. But mainly because the esoteric deposits lessened closer to the sea, and Wolfram's freedom was painfully important to Mikael), so they had said their goodbyes within.
"Should think so. Wolfram talks big, and he might believe no one loves him back home, but he definitely loves them. Might say the probability is so good, it's Sage approved!"
Murata made a thumbs-up-and-wink! move that freaked Yuuri out no end. They were riding horses! How the Sage stayed upright was a mystery to Yuuri. Yuuri kicked his horse into a trot, pulling out just in front of Murata.
"Hey Murata?"
"Hmm?"
"Remind me to call Conrad back; if we forget and he gets here, he'd probably go all scary and kidnap Wolfram. I... don't want that, it's too scary to imagine. And..."
Wolf did say it's okay to cry. And he used to say love a lot. And he used to call me wimp, idiot and the cheater. And Mikael is a human, and Wolf isn't, and that's hope. And he still loves me, and that's hope. And I don't want to die without him holding my hand, even if it means living trying to catch up to him. And all will be well, because there he is in the middle of all this, and there he'll be indefinitely, but where there's Wolfram, there's hope.
Yuuri didn't bother hiding how he was drying his eyes with his cloak. It was that or a give his horse's neck a wash.
And hopefully, even if it takes too long but it takes less than forever, where there's Wolfram there's Yuuri.
"Hey Murata," his voice was broken, but the sky was too bright and beautiful to let him sob, and being brave (like Wolfram) was part of growing up, wasn't it? "Absence makes the heart grow fonder, doesn't it?"
And Murata noticed that Yuuri's back was straighter now than it was before, and the very air around him was full of a quiet kind of strength (like a lake is calm until you struggle for breath from within it). It was dignified, it was manly, and Wolfram would have been proud.
"It totally does"
oOoOoOo
"Can I hold your hand?"
They were both sitting down in the dirt and weeds, Mikael with his legs spread on the ground in front of him, Wolfram sitting in a similar way but somehow appearing much more graceful than graceless.
"No. Not your wife. Idiot"
Mikael grinned. He had years (he hoped he prayed he wanted) of this ahead of him, and resistance today could prove futile tomorrow. And the comfortable, sprawled way Wolfram was relaxed against his side (like Wolfram was ivy and he was a damp brick wall. Just vastly better-looking) gave him the impression that the blond would stick around for long enough that it wouldn't even matter if it took him ten years to get the blond to say yes to hand-holding.
The thought of years thrilled him stupidly. So stupidly that Mikael knocked the thought out of his head. He still needed to rule a country; something that couldn't be done if he was fully-occupied with mooning.
Being part-time occupied is perfectly acceptable!
"A Wolf is infinitely better than a wife"
This, thought Wolfram, looking into the endlessly, beautifully blue sky. Someone who likes me best. Hedrid handed him another bouquet from the slightly (very) infatuated gardeners. Wolfram smiled at Hedrid so beatifically the man blushed beet red. Hedrid gathered what courage he had left after all the trauma he had suffered, and bent down to bravely pat Wolfram's shoulder. "It is good that you will be staying with us, my lord"
Hedrid then ran to attend to "important business" ("When I'm the king and I'm just lying here!" whispered Mikael), after Wolfram said an honest, quiet "Thank you".
Someone who finds each word said heavy and important.
A passing maid informed him that Mrs. Norrel was looking for her "dear boy, I think she's gone and emptied out our sugar supply for you again, your lordship". The girl grinned. "We can't wait to see you again down there"
Someone to whom everything about my habits are a joy to deal with.
Wolfram told her to pass on the message that he would be coming with much haste.
"You may grow fat, my Wolf"
"You would leave me for that?"
Mikael twirled a blade of grass between his fingers.
"Obviously not. I would simply demand you take swimming classes with and the wonderful Mister Norrel, and get over-sized pyjamas that give you a workout just walking in them"
Wolfram stifled a look of horror. Mikael laughed at him and got hit for his effort.
The brunette sighed, and slumped until he was flat on his back, his hands pillowing his head. He smirked at Wolfram, big, toothy and pleased as a purring cat.
"I love you, Wolf"
And things were warm and delicious and hopeful, and he did tell Yuuri that he could love Mikael.
Wolfram exhaled (not sighed. It was a prettier sound than sighing).
"And I may eventually love you too"
Someone to take all the stupidity and the foolishness and the pointless fury and the short temper and the inability to be anything but myself, and that was important, because at Wolfram's admission Mikael turned to stare at him quite hard with his serious green eyes.
Mikael smiled, and for a moment Wolfram wondered if this, perhaps, was what Hedrid felt (what Yuuri may yet feel).
"Gods, my Wolf! I cannot ever thank you enough!"
Mikael was being stupid, and he really shouldn't encourage this, but the day was warm the wind was sweet and the world felt pretty.
A cloud wafted by and it was suddenly shady (the cloud had stolen the sun), but that was alright because the light wasn't so striking now, and the edges of everything (everything everything everything Wolfram chanted to himself. This meant something) was soft.
And it might be unusual, but he could love this.
He could love this.
The. End.
A/N: God, two years of working on this darling (the one that grew awesomely) and I finally write the end. And I like it so much I can't make myself cry. Even though I probably think I should. But whatever. It's wonderfully easy to get a beautifully written, moving YuuRam story. This is me doing my utmost to make a beautifully written (yeah right), moving (hopefully) Wolf story. I do really like this, and that's all I can say (in self-defense, because I know this doesn't tickle everyone's fancy, but not much of a defense, because you can like what you want :) and I will do the same). The general feeling for the ending (in my head. I've been re-playing it obsessively there in preparation for this) is warmwarmwarm, because important things don't have to be set in stone to be important.... Something of the like, I'm rambling, but that's because this is the last time I'll be shooting my mouth off on this story. And it feels like something's... upped and moved to Alaska. Not dead, but pretty bloody far from where I am, and I'm sad ;A;
Updated on a Friday, because I like Fridays. They're pretty, they're sweet, and they're a type of holy, aren't they?
And I may actually be shaking slightly at the possibility (but a highly unlikely one. Wolf-fans are mostly a mild and sweet bunch, you sweets you!) that this is.... massively hated (ask my aides, Vi the one who listens to me whining, and XEOHE, who can give an ego boost like no. other. Bless your souls, honestly). But what the hell, yeah? I read TWO things that made it end this way, one that annoyed me and one that scared me silly, and I decided that honestly, different doesn't necessarily mean bad. And respond, please, because this is the last chapter, it's the end, and I'd like to think more than ten people have gotten to this point, and I want to hear it ALL. You can PM me, send me a postcard, make a smoke signal. Because I really want to know.
And my gratitude to those who've consistently shared their views through all this; I'd be on hiatus, probably, without them.
I'll be off on a short break (i.e: no more stories) for a while; there're some stuff I want to try, and they don't swivel about fanfiction. At least not the fan bit of it :) Probably talking too much, but what the hey!
Lastly, a great big rolling-on-the-floor-in-mad-delight thank you! for the support this story has received. Made me feel like a freakin' celebrity sometimes (I'm sad that way), and on days when I'm down I actually do read reviews. They make me go starry-eyed, and it's like a shot of ice tea in the middle of a hot, lazy afternoon. So thanks for that, I seriously appreciate it.
In those immortal words, yeah? I. WILL. BE. BACK.
Much love, everyone, like, for SERIOUS,
me