Warnings: Spoilers, language, sexual innuendos, violence, drunkenness, nudity and general stupidity - everything you would expect in a bachelor's party. Plot, What Plot?

Yozak's Sidetrip: The Bachelor's Party

Part 3--

His Eminence is accompanied by a very amused Lord von Wincott and a very depressed Lord Jean Luc von Rochefort. (He is, also, accompanied by several bottles of really good liquor.) I heard that the younger von Rochefort has been here for a couple of weeks trying to convince Anissina to change her wedding plans to include a groom. Namely him. I wonder why no one told him he didn't have a snowball's chance in a volcano. The crazy woman had almost poisoned Dakaskos and destroyed the castle two years ago when Lord von Karbelnikoff tried to arrange a marriage between them. But I guess love can make you do crazy things.

I give the newcomers drinks, Gwendal gives them grunts and Wolfram gives them bear hugs. Lord von Wincott laughs and returns the hug and Lord von Rochefort blushes at the uncalled for display of affection. His Eminence, on the other hand, holds on for as long as possible with one hand drifting down to Wolfram's cute behind. He gives the kiddo a knowing, gloating look until His Majesty feels the need to point out that his Earth friend could release the prince anytime now. The Great Sage doesn't, instead he pinches Wolfram's cheek. Yes, that cheek. There's another loud crash in Gwendal's general direction.

"Really, Murata, you can let go now. I'm sure you won't hurt Wolfram's feeling," the king says, voice dripping with sarcasm and annoyance.

"Jealous much, Shibuya?"

"Who says I'm jealous?!"

"Aren't you?"

"What?! Of course, not!"

"I think the king doth protest too much."

"No, Murata!! I am NOT jealous!! I'm the most NOT jealous person in this entire room! The entire world even! You can hug Wolfram all night and I'd still be NOT jealous!!"

"Your Majesty is quite right in not being jealous," Lord von Wincott says nodding his head in a thoughtful manner, "news of Lord Wolfram's and your undying devotion to each other have reached even the Wincott territories."

"Same as in the Rochefort territories," Lord von Rochefort adds in a melancholy I've-been-dumped voice. "It was your love story that made me hope that Lady Anissina and I could achieve the same..." His voice breaks and he gulps down the drink I handed him. I pour him another for good measure.

The king sits back down on the table and crosses his arms in childish irritation, still mumbling in a low whisper, "... not jealous..."

"Now, now, calm down, Shibuya. I'm letting go. And not because you're jealous," His Eminence says in a placating manner made unconvincing by the slight upturn on his lips and decidedly slow movement in extricating himself from Wolfram, "Really, I just don't want Lord von Voltaire to knock out every soldier in the room."

"I haven't seen Densham arrive yet," Lord von Wincott says, "is he really not coming, Gwendal?"

"The twit refuses. It took me and Günter four weeks to convince him to give his blessing and he only gave it because Anissina threatened to leave Blood Pledge Castle and live with him."

"That is unfortunate, I thought those two were really quite close to each other. I hope she is not too disappointed. Who will be giving the family's blessing at the ceremony?"

"Gwendal has kindly stepped in," Conrart answers.

The Commander motions for one of his soldiers to come over who promptly complies and just as promptly gets punched.

"Lord von Voltaire, shouldn't your duty be to convince Anissina to listen to her older brother instead of convincing him to go with this foolish idea?" Lord von Rochefort asks in an accusing manner. He downs a glass and slams it on the table in the same accusing manner.

"Firstly, Lord von Rochefort, I have no obligations to convince any of the other ten nobles who they should marry their younger siblings to." Gwendal drinks."Secondly, Lord von Rochefort, I have no desire to meddle in matters of love." Another drink. "Thirdly, Lord von Rochefort, Densham is an idiot." Another one. "Fourthly, Lord von Rochefort... I can't remember what the fourth is but I've got a feeling it has something to do with a chicken." And another. "But lastly, Lord von Rochefort, why would I want Anissina to marry you?" The Commander waves his glass in front of his face; he tries to follow it with his eyes and fail.

His adversary drains another glass of liquor and slams it on the table. "Hah!" He pours another and gulps it down before continuing, "Lord von Voltaire, you finally admit you have designs on the most beautiful and most charming creature in Shin Makoku!"

"Lord von Rochefort... are we still talking about Anissina?" The Commander motions another soldier to come forward who bravely walks to him and just as bravely gets punched in the face.

"Of course, Lord von Voltaire, who else would I be talking about?"

"Che! Me, of course!" Wolfram interjects, "Most beautiful and most charming in the whole of Shin Makoku, who else would it be? Right, Yuuri?"

"Sure, Wolfram, whatever you say."

"I mean just look at me! I have soft golden hair that surpasses the manes of heavenly creatures, brilliant green eyes more beautiful than any emerald, my skin makes any piece of silk seem rough, the sight of my naked physique would make an army swoon and this face has brought men back from the brink of death. Right, Yuuri?

"Yes, Wolfram."

"The only creature more beautiful than I is Yuuri. Right, Yuuri?"

"Uh...please don't say embarrassing things, Wolf."

"But as for charm, the wimp is no match for me. I, who have the natural grace of a gazelle, artistic talents surpassing all painters in the 4000 year history of Shin Makoku, a wit that cuts sharper than any sword. Men and women are bewitched by my mere presence. Any demon would die happy with just one smile from my lips."

I've lost count of how much Wolfram has been drinking, he drains what is in his glass and flings himself across the table and grasps Gwendal's hand. He looks up at the Commander with long lashes fluttering against rosy cheeks and a face that rivals Greta's when she's asking for something.

"You think so too, don't you, Elder Brother?"

The Commander's cheeks reddens and I hear him whisper, "...too much cute." He stands up and walks to one of Wolfram's guards and tells him to get up.

"Y-yes sir!" the soldier in blue says before he falls to the floor, the latest of Gwendal's victims.

Wolfram immediately goes to his guard and cradles him in his arms. "Poor Adrian! My sweet Adrian! Oh, what horrid circumstance has befallen you! Such loyalty and love as you have shown to me deplorably returned with misplaced violence by my admired brother. Please do forgive his savage and contradictory display of adoration. While I, for my part, shall caress my poor Adrian's injuries and put his fate in Gisela's hands."

Poor Adrian doesn't seem to be doing poorly. From the many envious looks, any of Wolfram's personal guards and many from the regular ranks would give their eyetooth to be in poor Adrian's position.

"The evening seems to be progressing at a rapid rate," Lord von Wincott remarks. "What's the score so far?"

"Five to zero, Your Excellency" I reply.

"Wolfram's not quite there yet, huh?"

The king, finally, tears his eyes away from the melodramatic exchange between the prince and his soldier and asks, "What score?"

"I assume it's the score between Lord von Voltaire versus Lord von Bielefeld. It seems we're counting punches."

"I thought Wolfram doesn't get violent when he drinks."

"No, he doesn't, kiddo. It's something else entirely. You'll see."

Before the king can clarify, Lord von Wincott says, "Thank you, Your Eminence, for inviting us to this party. What was the name you called it?"

"Bachelor's party. In some countries on Earth, it's a tradition to have one before the wedding."

"Bachelor's party?" The kiddo gives the Great Sage a questioning look. "I don't think that fits. The whole point of that kind of party is to take the groom and let him have one last hurrah to celebrate his freedom before he gets the old ball and chain. You do know this is the crazy wedding that has no groom. I know I'm partly at fault for this insanity, but still, we have no groom to get sloppily drunk and no groom to entertain for the stripper that comes out of the cake. In fact, no groom, no stripper and no cake. The only thing we have is us and alcohol."

"So?"

"So we can't have a Bachelor's party."

"It's just a name, Shibuya. Sometimes, you're just too uptight."

"I'm not uptight."

"His Eminence is right, kiddo. After all, we're unmarried. We're bachelors. So we can have a Bachelor's party."

"And if you really want to treat someone to a last hurrah, perhaps you can use Lord von Voltaire and Lord von Rochefort. It looks like they could really use a good time."

"I'm just trying to say, Murata, it's not really a Bachelor's party because we're missing a groom. I'm not going to stop you from having a party."

"Only you would get caught up in semantics. Would you feel better if we call it a Party for Bachelors?"

"Call it whatever you want, I was just trying to make a point. Geez."

"Yuuri, it's all in good fun, but I see what you are trying to say," Conrart says and gives His Majesty his trademark 'calm-the-king-down' smile, "It's hard to think of it as a wedding since we all know that marriage is an institution where the groom loses his Bachelor's Degree and the bride gets her Masters."

Conrart's laughter echoes alone in the large cavernous room. "It's an Earth joke," he explains.

We all give him the "Ah!" exclamation of fake understanding.

I look at His Eminence and he shakes his head at me. Nope, the joke is not humorous by Earth standards either. And Conrart scolds me for my levity?! At least, I'm funny.