A/N: Let me just say that I have been dying to write this chapter. Lots of blood and angst and rape (sort of). I didn't plan to go without updating for so long. First I got swine flu and then I got pneumonia, which is really ironic since that was pretty much what Wolfram was dying of last chapter. If this isn't the work of some higher power, I don't know what is.
A HUGE thanks to Tarshil for being my superbeta. She courageously swooped in and saved me from my writers block and then beta-ed this chapter all while giving me tons of advice on how to improve. From now on you must all bow to her.
To my anons:
Aquarianleo- yay! Isn't avatar the greatest? Thanks so much for your review
Chia- the song is from avatar. Good job. Of course Wolfram isn't dead yet, silly reviewer. There is so much that still needs to happen.
Kindness in a can- thanks for the review. Don't worry, Wolfie is too important to die
Anon- yes the song is from avatar. I wasn't expecting this many people to recognize it. Thanks for the review
Silver- I agree. Well I guess it is my fault for being so evil
Lady_Chicobo- Maybe this chapter will help mend your broken heart
OrangePink- I take so long to update because I write when I feel like it. If I forced myself to write then this story wouldn't be half as good as it is. Thanks for the review.
Chapter 14
.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.
The sky was a serene blue; the kind one might see on a lazy summer day with small, wispy clouds drifting in and out of sight. An endless sea of amber rye rose from the ground and swayed in the warm breeze.
Wolfram walked along a narrow dirt path until he came to a small pond. There, sitting upon the grassy shore was a person all too familiar. Her blue tresses hung loosely at her sides as a delicate hand gently combed the smooth surface of the water. Her unseeing eyes stared knowingly ahead.
"Wolfram," she breathed softly, a note of surprise in her voice. "Have you finished your studies so early?" She smiled and patted the grass next to her. "Come and sit with me for a while." Wolfram sat with the tips of his toes at the water's edge. He did not ask where they were or why they were there. Somehow he just knew.
Time passed as they sat in silence.
"Julia…" Wolfram began after an eternity, "is this how I am supposed to feel?"
"And how do you feel?"
"Uneasy…like there is something important that I have forgotten," he answered. Julia's beautiful face fell into a frown.
"I have been selfish," she admitted. "You shouldn't be here yet. It is not your time."
Wolfram nodded in agreement. He stood up, already anxious to return. The wind ruffled his blonde bangs and he lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the sunlight. He began walking back along the path that had brought him to this strange place.
.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.
Murata sighed and put the old book back on the shelf gently. Nothing. He could reread old notes and journals, he could revert into his massive archive of memories from previous lives and yet he could not see where he had screwed up.
One memory…one life was fuzzy. He could remember a voice here and there, a smell, a touch, and yet he could not remember his name, who he had known, or what he had been doing. The life was fleeting compared to the expansive Mazoku lives he had lived, so he concluded that he must have been a human. It was somewhere within this broken memory that the secret was buried. The answer should be here, right in his own head…and yet it was not.
Frustrated with himself, Murata stood up and left his room. The halls were still cold. The spring days had yet to reach this remote territory. The temple Murata had inhabited for a few weeks now was quite large, but mostly abandoned. The few priestesses that remained had devoted themselves completely to serving Shinou and had not left the temple in decades. When not running errands for Murata, they absorbed themselves in prayer.
One of them, Saki her name was, met Murata in the corridor.
"His Holiness has awakened," she informed the Great Sage before bowing and continuing on her way.
Murata let himself in the room without knocking but the single occupant seemed not to care. He remained leaning against the window, basking in the sunlight. For a moment, Murata held his breath. Truly, Wolfram was a beautiful creature. Even though his hair had yet to regain its golden sheen and his body was still far from properly nourished, a more gorgeous man could not presently be in existence. Perhaps this was the reason the prince had been the chosen vessel.
"It's good to see you awake, Bielefeld-kyo." Murata greeted. Green eyes shifted slowly over to where he stood. This was the first time since they had parted that Murata was able to look into those eyes and he was disappointed. There was no light in those green irises. They were dull…hardened. They had seen death.
"Had you awoken a few days later you might have found yourself underground. It is nothing short of a miracle that you have survived," Murata informed him curtly. Wolfram stepped away from the window slowly on trembling legs. His eyes downcast, he got on his knees and prostrated himself before Murata.
"Forgive me," Wolfram responded hoarsely, "I cannot accept your kindness. I do not deserve to be called "holy". I am guilty of murder and theft. I have succumbed to pride and to lust. I have neglected…" Wolfram lifted his head as tears spilled out of his eyes, "a child of my very own flesh."
Murata sighed. It had all been too much for the young prince. He walked over to where the small body was curled up and knelt beside him, wondering how much physical contact would be appropriate. He pulled the sobbing blonde into a gentle embrace.
"Why didn't you come for me?"choked Wolfram, burying his face in the Great Sage's chest. "So many times I could have used your wisdom. It's not like I had ever gone through any of this. I didn't think that it was going to be so difficult. Being pregnant…and alone."
"I realize now that it was a mistake to leave you on your own, Wolfram. But you must understand that I was only looking out for your safety. I too have been isolated these past few months," replied Murata gravely. "My work has kept me constantly on the run. For a while, I cut off all contact with Shibuya and your brothers because I feared my meddling would put them in danger. Also, I have been traveling quite a bit in order to gather information."
"Take me with you this time!" Wolfram begged, his fingers gripping the sage's shirt tightly. "I don't want to be alone anymore. You're the only one I have."
Murata smiled and answered, "I had no intention of leaving you behind, Wolfram. As soon as you are well I was hoping that you would accompany me to my new research base in Big Shimaron."
"Big…Shimaron?" hiccupped Wolfram.
Murata's eyes darkened. "That's where it all seems to be happening. But before you and I leave this stage for good, I believe one last appearance is in order," the Great Sage said. From his pocket he withdrew a sheet of paper.
"The castle is holding a party to celebrate the birth of the prince."
.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.
For the first time in months, the kingdom was in celebration. The capital city of Shin Makoku was alight with festivities to welcome the birth of the royal heir when Wolfram entered the city gates in the Great Sage's carriage. The citizens were drunk and merry, singing praises to their kingdom once again and pushing the anxieties of war to the backs of their minds while raising their glasses to the newborn prince.
Wolfram's head slipped off of his hand as he nearly fell asleep. He snapped up again at once, annoyed that his body felt tired and weak all the time. His earlier apprehension about returning home seemed to have taken a significant toll on his limited strength. Murata looked at him, concerned.
"Are you sure you are well enough for this, Wolfram?" Wolfram merely glared at his companion while fixing his wig.
"Why can't I use my maryoku?" the prince asked, "I am no longer pregnant. Shouldn't it have returned by now?"
"It will not come back for some time still. Your body's main purpose now is caring for a baby. Why would it waste energy on maryoku?"
"How will I defend myself?" Wolfram wondered.
"That is the job of your mate," the sage answered simply.
"And if I don't have one?"
"Then you are left considerably more vulnerable. Most Mazoku can sense when another's maryoku is weakened. A mate's job is to mask their partner with their own maryoku. Since you have none, I suggest you avoid the other party guests, unless you wish to be warming a stranger's bed this evening," Murata advised. Wolfram scowled.
"I've only come for one reason and it doesn't involve old, horny men."
.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.
The castle grounds were lit by moonlight. Wolfram sauntered through the shadows, moving quickly so he wouldn't be discovered by the patrolling guards. The party inside was in full-swing. All ten of the ruling families were in attendance, Wolfram already noticed. Even Conrad and Gwendal had returned to the country early to celebrate. Everyone wanted to lay their eyes on the long awaited heir. Wolfram was no exception.
He looked up at the great stone towers above. Somehow, he needed to get up onto the second floor but security was sure to be tight. He couldn't scale the wall so he'd have to get in through one of the first floor windows. Where? The kitchen? Or perhaps the bathroom?
Footsteps on the grass caught Wolfram's attention. He sank down into budding branches to wait for the newcomer to pass. The figure slowed its stride and came to a stop mere feet from Wolfram's hiding spot. Wolfram was sure the rapid pounding of his heart must have given him away.
"Show yourself…intruder," the voice ordered. Slowly, Wolfram rose from the bushes. "Who are you?" the silhouette demanded as he drew his sword and pointed it at the prince's throat, "If you answer correctly, I may just let you leave here alive." Wolfram's lips curled into a smile.
"Well, well. Aren't you a big boy these days, Ralphie," Wolfram breathed as he stepped out of the shrubbery, "And to think for a moment you almost had me frightened…" Wolfram laughed. Ralph stiffened at the insult. In his left hand, he conjured a flame and illuminated both of their faces.
"Wolfram," he snarled with disgust. "I told you not to call me that anymore." The tip of his sword pricked the sensitive flesh underneath Wolfram's chin as Ralph studied him. "You are so much like your whore of a mother."
"Rude and arrogant as ever. I see that growing up in the Bielefeld house has taught you that it's perfectly fine to offend royalty. It's quite scary…the way they indoctrinate young, innocent minds," Wolfram said smoothly, using a finger to push away the tip of the other's sword.
"Royalty?" Ralph took a step closer, chucking softly. "You see, my dear cousin, that is where you are wrong. You are nobody. His Majesty is my husband now." Another step. "Your friends, your family…" Another step. "This castle…this country… they all belong to me." He was close enough to whisper into Wolfram's ear, "The child that is asleep upstairs…is mine." Wolfram bristled and drew his sword.
"If your wish was to provoke me, then you have done a fair job," Wolfram snarled. "Certainly you have all my assets, and my very own son might one day be forced to call you "father", but you will never have Yuuri's love."
A streak of fury flashed through Ralph's green eyes, but he was able to hide it with a wide smile. He removed the stylish hat that he had been wearing to conceal part of his face from prying eyes and reached up to remove Wolfram's dark wig as well.
"Oh but that's only a matter of time as well, Wolfie," he laughed lightly as he toyed for a moment with Wolfram's soft hair, "After all, no man can resist you," he sidled up to Wolfram, placing his free hand delicately on Wolfram's chest and exhaling contently, "…and I so happen to be a younger, prettier version of you."
Wolfram shoved the boy away from him and held out his sword threateningly.
"Younger, perhaps. Prettier? In your dreams, boy. Go take another look in the mirror," scoffed Wolfram. "Now why don't we settle this like men: with our swords."
Ralph lunged forward without warning, striking Wolfram's sword hard. With Wolfram in his weakened state, their strength was evenly matched. Ralph launched a particularly hard series of blows and forced Wolfram to take a few steps back.
"Your brothers like me better, just like your father always has. It won't be long before His Majesty does too," Ralph panted. Wolfram slashed furiously, reversing their positions.
"Last time I checked, my brothers said that you were in need of a good thrashing," Wolfram sneered. Ralph scowled and attacked with renewed vigor, perhaps sensing that Wolfram's stamina was low. Without verbal abuse issuing from their mouths, the duel took a more serious turn. It wasn't at all like the playful spars they had as kids. Honor was no longer the only thing at stake here. Ralph was fighting to kill and Wolfram found, with a small jolt of surprise, that he was as well.
"They never told me what had happened to you, but I figured you wouldn't die so easily!" the pseudo Prince Consort shouted desperately as his steel met with Wolfram's. "I knew you must have done something horrible to merit banishment, but His Majesty never speaks a word about you, no matter how much I ask." They broke apart for a moment. Wolfram panted heavily and Ralph shook his head dismissively. "I guess it doesn't matter. His Majesty's broken heart says it all. You've betrayed him, haven't you?" Wolfram continued to glare, but gave no answer. Ralph let out a frustrated howl and rushed forward. With their swords locked, Ralph was able to force his older counterpart to the ground.
"Do you have any idea how much grief you've caused him? You're the source of all his suffering!" Ralph said between gritted teeth, "Oh, I'm glad that you've returned, cousin. This way, I'll be able…TO KILL YOU MYSELF!"
Before the point of Ralph's weapon was able to pierce his chest, Wolfram caught the sword in his left hand. His eyes squeezed tight as the sharp blade cut through his gloved palm and sliced deeply into the calloused skin beneath. Quickly getting over the discomfort, Wolfram impaled his own sword in his cousin's gut, hearing the sickening squelch and feeling the warm blood rushing swiftly down his arm.
The younger man's mouth dropped open in surprise as he attempted to comprehend what had just occurred. He let out a choking breath as blood began to trickle from his lips. His green eyes flickered up to meet Wolfram's and he let out a defeated whimper.
"You didn't mean it…right…Ni-sama?" his voice shook. It was the adorable face from Wolfram's childhood that spoke to him. Wolfram's eyes suddenly widened fearfully. He withdrew his sword roughly. He had done it. He could not take it back. Overcome with jealousy, a person could sometimes do stupid things. Dangerous things. Like mortally wounding the king's husband on the castle's lawn.
He knew he had to flee. Time was short now and Wolfram knew he had overstayed his welcome, but before he was even able to sheathe his messy sword, something wet enveloped his entire body and hoisted him into the air. Below, several castle guards had encircled him and had their spears pointing up at him.
"Unforgiveable!"
Wolfram ceased his struggling as that voice sent chills down his spine. It was him. Wolfram's eyes sought out the eerie blue glow of his silhouette. Slowly he approached the suspended Wolfram, angry maryoku radiating from his erect form while his water dragons coiled threateningly around the prince's body. He looked like he was in his Maou form, and yet he was not. His eyes were cold and piercing as they caught Wolfram's.
"Just how many murders will it take to satisfy your bloodlust?" the king hissed.
"Yuu-" Wolfram choked. The water vine around his neck tightened and compressed his airway.
"You enter my castle uninvited and you proceed to injure a member of the Royal family after being ordered never to return to this place again. Does your wickedness know no bounds?" the Maou said. Wolfram's vision was spinning. He could not breathe. A minute passed before Wolfram was released completely. On the ground, gasping for breath, Wolfram watched Yuuri walk over to Ralph and pick up the broken body gently.
"Lock him in my chambers. I will deal with him later." Yuuri said, gesturing toward Wolfram. He turned his back on them and began to head toward the castle, leaving a trail of red droplets behind.
.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.
"Conrad," said Wolfram softly as his brother led him up the stairs to the royal chambers. The half-human said nothing, but his grip on Wolfram's arm tightened. "Conrad, speak to me," the blonde pleaded. His brother did not even spare him a glance. They reached the doors and Wolfram was thrown inside.
"Conrart!" Wolfram yelled, his voice echoing in the room and the hall as he threw himself against the doors before they could be shut.
"I'm sorry Wolfram," said the brunette with sad eyes, "His Majesty had forbid me- forbid all of us- from talking with you. Please wait here for him quietly." The doors shut and Wolfram found himself alone. He sat on the bed and waited. Wolfram had not come to this gathering to see his husband or brothers. He had not come to reveal himself or wreak havoc. He had not come simply for the hell of it. He was here to look upon the face of the child he had given birth to, the culmination of his sins. All he wanted was one look, one touch if he could, and then he might be satisfied. Then he might be able to sleep peacefully.
A half hour later, the doors opened. Yuuri stepped inside, still dressed in his party clothes except now there was an enormous red stain down the front. Wolfram stood up as Yuuri walked over to him. This atmosphere…this aura was not the Yuuri that Wolfram remembered. This Yuuri was not a naïve and clumsy idiot. He was mature and confident. He was in-control. He was…Wolfram shuddered…a man. His very presence exuded sexuality. He reached out and Wolfram flinched.
"Are you frightened of me, Wolfram?" There was a pause in which only Wolfram's heavy breathing could be heard.
"Hn. How could I be frightened by a hennachoko like you?" was Wolfram's trembling lie. He chose to stare out the window instead of at his former beloved.
"Give me your hand." It was an order.
Wolfram cautiously placed his injured hand in Yuuri's and watched as his king's healing majutsu knit muscle and flesh back together. When the job was done Wolfram attempted to pull his hand away, but Yuuri refused to let go. The blonde prince made a small sound of protest as Yuuri drew his body against his own. His free hand crept up into Wolfram's hair and he forced the blonde to look at him. Wolfram felt his knees go weak from the intensity of his husband's gaze. His palms pushed against Yuuri's hard chest, but Yuuri held him tightly until he gave in. When he spoke, his voice was husky and caused a burning blush to creep into Wolfram's cheeks.
"I know why you came here tonight, Wolfram. Would you still like to see him?"
"Yuu-ri…" Wolfram breathed. His eyes were shut and he waited for Yuuri's hands to caress him. Instead he was released.
"Come with me."
They traveled silently down the hall until they reached the nursery doors. Wolfram followed Yuuri into the room. The moonlight illuminated the cradle that stood in the center and Wolfram was unable to resist the lure. Yuuri remained standing by the door while Wolfram approached it.
Wolfram felt his heart rise to his throat at once. He gazed upon the tiny child, sleeping innocently and wrapped in the softest of blankets, and felt strange emotions well up in him; emotions that he had never felt before. He reached into the crib, but stopped himself when he noticed that his gloves were covered in dried blood. He couldn't touch something so pure with such dirty hands. Wolfram sighed and removed his ruined gloves before reaching back in. The baby whimpered after being disturbed, but Wolfram held him close and cuddled him until he fell back asleep. It felt so good to be able to finally hold the infant in his arms. His own flesh and blood.
Wolfram had been worried that his recklessness during pregnancy might have caused harm to the baby, but now all of his fears could be put to rest. Everything about him seemed healthy and no damage had been done. Tears of relief prickled at the edge of his vision and he willed them to go away so that he could continue to look at his son clearly.
Blonde hair…blue eyes…he would grow up to look just like that portrait hanging in the hall.
Wolfram noticed that his arms were trembling violently. He gently lowered the infant back into the warm layers of blankets. He let his fingertips brush against the smooth skin of that perfect, angelic face and wondered why the simple act of procreation could provoke such strong feelings in a person. Wolfram suddenly had the urge to take the child and run. He was his baby. Wolfram wanted to be there for him; to raise him and care for him all on his own. Wolfram withdrew his hand and continued to stare with cloudy vision at the life he had given birth to.
"His name is Shinou," Wolfram said softly to the dark room. Behind him, Yuuri stirred. Wolfram heard his husband walk up to him and could feel his hot breath on the back of his neck as he spoke.
"A rather important name for a bastard child."
"It's fitting for a prince…your own heir, no less."
"I suppose…" Yuuri purred. He was so close. Wolfram tilted his head to one side, waiting for the feel of Yuuri's lips on his neck. It never came. Instead, hands crept around Wolfram's waist. One trailed up to his chest and the other settled on his stomach. "You're so beautiful, Wolfram," the king whispered, "I hate it." He spun the blonde around to face him. Wolfram resented the fact that his eyes had been taken off of the sleeping baby. He stole a glance over his shoulder. Yuuri grabbed Wolfram's chin and forced his eyes to return to his husband's.
"You've given him enough attention," Yuuri growled, "I want to be the only one you need to think about." His lips met Wolfram's and his tongue wandered inside, tasting what he had denied himself for so long. Wolfram let out a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding when Yuuri pulled their bodies together in a crushing embrace. Yuuri's fingers danced along his spine, making Wolfram's skin erupt in goose bumps and causing him to arch further up against his king's chest. Wolfram let out a strangled moan when Yuuri's mouth was on his neck, sucking and biting with ravenous hunger.
"This is what you do to me," Yuuri rasped, grabbing the blonde's hips and pressing the bulge of his pants against Wolfram. His hands found their way underneath Wolfram's shirt and he began to feel the smooth skin beneath it. Wolfram's face was flushed heavily as he attempted to resist Yuuri's eager touches. All he cared about right now was the baby asleep in the cradle. Yuuri noticed immediately.
"Enough of these distractions!" the king scowled as he threw his husband over his shoulder unceremoniously, "I will have you tonight whether you like it or not." Wolfram let his body go limp as Yuuri marched them out the door and back into the royal bedroom. He was dumped on the bed in a heap. Yuuri began to tear the clothes off his body.
"Why? Why is he doing this?" Wolfram wondered, "Is it me? Have I turned him into this…monster?"
"Stop it, Yuuri!" Wolfram cried, finally getting a hold of himself. His next words were muffled by his husband's lips and he shivered as Yuuri's hands began to caress his naked skin. The king moaned softly. His fingers wandered down to Wolfram's crotch to tease his stiff manhood. Wolfram gasped and his fingers twisted into the bed sheets as his traitorous body expressed its desire for attention. His blush deepened, making his face feel hot. His empty protests turned into shameful whimpers and pleas as Yuuri's hand began to move up and down over engorged flesh.
"How many have seen you like this before?" Yuuri wondered aloud, ceasing his movements and kneeling over a very aroused Wolfram. After taking in Wolfram's flushed features and helpless expression, his face hardened into a scowl. "I hate you, Wolfram. I hate you and yet when I think of you with another man, I go mad." Yuuri's eyes darkened. "You are going to tell me all of your secrets tonight, Wolfram. We'll start with the reason you betrayed me." Wolfram didn't answer. Yuuri backhanded him.
"Why now?" thought Wolfram, "He never thought to ask me while he held me prisoner. How long has this been eating away at him? I can't tell him. He wouldn't understand. He wouldn't understand that I love him more than all the people of Shin Makoku."
"I…I would never betray you, Yuuri," Wolfram whispered, holding his stinging face, "At this point, there is nothing I can say to placate you. All I can offer is a promise that someday I will be able to tell you." Yuuri's face remained hard with his black eyes unreadable. He decided to move on.
"Who is the child's father?" Yuuri demanded, his arm raised threateningly, "I will find the man, castrate him, and lock him away for the rest of his miserable life."
"Then you needn't worry. He is already dead," Wolfram replied desperately. Yuuri narrowed his eyes.
"You're lying." He pinched a nipple.
"Ngh. No Yuuri! What reason could I possibly have to lie to you now?"
"Why, indeed?" Yuuri said, coating his fingers in oil and prying Wolfram's thighs apart. Wolfram didn't want to be taken like this. He was tired. He felt sick. He let those fingers invade him anyway and thought about how he could never really deny his Yuuri anything. He bit back a moan that threatened to spill from his lips.
While Yuuri continued to stretch him, Wolfram reached up and attempted to unbutton his king's shirt. Yuuri slapped his hand away. He stood up and took off his pants instead. Wolfram's eyes momentarily strayed to Yuuri's erect penis and he shivered. Suddenly, Yuuri was on top of him again. He could feel his heartbeat as their chests strained against each other. Yuuri's body emanated heat and maryoku, overwhelming Wolfram's senses and causing his mind to go blank.
"The next child you bear will be mine," Yuuri commanded. Wolfram could only cling to him in response, thinking solely of his husband's cock pushing against his entrance. It came as a relief when Yuuri buried himself inside. His arms wrapped around the blonde, establishing a merciless pace, while Wolfram spread his legs, giving in to his lover's heat. Yuuri's hands slid over Wolfram's hips and buttocks before taking his smooth thighs in a bruising grip, making the man beneath him writhe and tousle his silky blonde hair against the pillows.
It seemed as though a fire had been lit inside Wolfram's body and with each thrust, he voiced his pleasure. His nails dug into his husband's back as he gripped the man like his life depended on it. He gasped and moaned and lifted his hips to meet his king's intense lovemaking. The times where Yuuri obliged him with a kiss, Wolfram made sure they remained lip-locked until the need for air tore them apart.
The pressure between them was building. Their breathing came in uneven, lustful pants as they grasped at what little sanity they had left. Nothing was more arousing than the thought of their bodies joined in the most intimate of ways. Fully exposed was their lust…their complete desire for one another. The heat, the friction, and the emotion were more than could be withstood.
Sweat coated their skin. Yuuri continued to roll his hips, causing Wolfram to tremble and shudder while his love forcefully claimed his body. So strong was their passion that Wolfram couldn't stop the tears that formed behind his eyelids.
"Yuuri…" Wolfram whimpered, "I'm going to…" Wolfram threw back his head as his body seized with orgasm almost painfully. His nails clawed his husband's back desperately and his muscles clamped tightly around Yuuri's swollen manhood. Above him, Yuuri tensed. He stilled with one final, deep thrust and released his essence into his husband's hot body. Together they rode out the last waves of pleasure and collapsed panting with limbs still entangled.
"I love you, Yuuri," the prince breathed softly, his face streaked with tears.
"I know you do, Wolfram," the king responded, equally soft. He wrapped his arms around his husband and drifted off to sleep.
.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.