The Trouble With Trolls

by jinjyaa

Human rights have improved, but what about the other nondemons? Crisis with the trolls leads to the Dragon Insurrection. And Wolfram's own nondemon ancestry may allow him to give Yuuri children, or ... sprouts?

10. Loyal Opposition

Kyou Kara Maou : The Trouble With Trolls

Summary: Wolfram's attempt to bypass Maou Wedding Curse with a small family ceremony, backfires when an uninvited relative arrives - the Troll Mother.

Disclaimer: I have no rights to Kyou Kara Maou, of course.

Chapter 10 : Loyal Opposition

"Gwendal, be reasonable," Aldrich was saying, as the two came into the dining hall for dinner. "All I'm asking is that we hold the meetings in Walde. I'd offer my conference facilities, but this meeting is von Bielenfeld heavy. But Blood Pledge Castle is far too small."

"I have Shin Makoku and Walde to run, and I do not need to give favors to the enemy," bit out Gwendal, harried and nasty. He scraped out his chair and grabbed a spork to stab something.

"'Enemy'? So nice to see things getting back to normal," said Aldrich, seating himself politely, nodding to fellow diners. "Gwendal, we're at table. You could at least try some more social euphemism, like 'loyal opposition'."

"Ah, Gwendal," said Yuuri, "I'd have to agree. Please don't call my friends and family 'enemy' at supper."

"Why is that man still our Chancellor?" muttered Brendan. "Aldrich, it's high time the 'loyal opposition' change that. He just wakes up looking to chew someone's head off over something pointless."

Wolfram cleared his throat. "Is there something I could help you with, Aldrich?"

"Well, apparently, young cousin," said Aldrich, with a false smile. "I hadn't thought to need a representative to Shin Makoku when I'm right here, but... This is a conference. Months long. Aristocrats must attend, and must run their domains in the meantime. It's not like a three day meeting. I need ten rooms –"

"Ten!" thundered Gwendal.

Even Conrad was looking sourly at Gwendal now. Of course, about ten – a single man, with a child, a nanny for the child, a valet, rooms for secretary and scribe, office and meeting rooms… Aldrich's personally one of the wealthiest men in Shin Makoku, and Bielenfeld's treasury is richer than Shin Makoku's. What did you think, he'd stuff his entourage in pup tents?

"- and most Aristocrats will need at least six rooms, most more," Aldrich continued. "I could rent a house in town for myself and the rest of the coalition –"

"Oh, that's fitting!" jeered Gwendal. "You separatists isolate yourselves even before the meetings begin!"

Wolfram raised a hand to suggest Gwendal back down. "Of course. We agree, that wouldn't be best for your coalition, or for the meeting as a whole, Aldrich." Gwendal jerked his head up to glare at Wolfram, who pursed his lips in response. "As I believe both of you were just saying. We need to work together instead of splitting along party lines."

"Exactly," said Aldrich. "Castletown would love the conference income, but I'm concerned about the perception that Bielenfeld is controlling these meetings. Those with wood nymph ancestry will be acting as representatives for the less verbal races, and we're all descended from a von Bielenfeld."

Gwendal winced at the mention of conference income, which Walde could sorely use. He looked like he had belated misgivings about crossing Aldrich, but wasn't quite ready to admit it.

Brendan's comment about ousting Gwendal didn't appear to be a joke. "I prefer Bielenfeld," he said with finality. "Please pass the potatoes."

"Bielenfeld is more convenient for us," agreed Elliot von Wincott. "May I have the salad, please?"

Aldrich raised a hand in surrender. "The Bielenfeld conference facilities it is."

"It's at Blood Pledge Castle –" began Gwendal.

Yuuri cut him off. "Thank you, Lord Aldrich. So, your conference facilities are large?"

"Yes, we hold two all-plantation meetings a year, plus the galas at Winterfair and Summerfair. And the castle is right downtown. It's only a ten minute walk to the royal pier, with plenty of nearby inns. I'm sure you'll find it comfortable, Sire."

Wolfram wondered whether Aldrich set Gwendal up. But Aldrich still appeared annoyed – likewise Brendan, von Wincott, and Conrad – which suggested otherwise. Wolfram was loyal to his brother, but… Perhaps his brusque ways were more appropriate to a wartime Chancellor. In peacetime, next to Aldrich and von Wincott, he ends up looking childishly cranky. Hm…

The Aristocrats had two basic parties – the federalists, favoring strong centralized solutions, and the autonomists, who upheld the sovereignty of the domains, and so tended to advance local, idiosyncratic solutions. Bielenfeld was a natural for the autonomists, with Gratz, Trondheim, and Krist its staunchest coalition allies. Walde, Wincott, Khrennikov, and Spitzweg were the firm federalists. Weller had greatly irked Gwendal by remaining a swing vote, more often swinging to the autonomist's side. Gwendal was impolitic enough to call the parties the loyalists and the separatists. Wolfram wasn't prone to that mistake.

"Well, then," said Aldrich, "I'd best head home tomorrow to prepare for the meetings." He and Manfred both looked thoughtful and applied themselves to their food.

"But – my wedding!" said Wolfram. "Surely you're staying for our wedding the day after tomorrow?"

Aldrich looked at him blankly. "Oh! The wedding. You're still holding the wedding? Oh, Manfred, that reminds me – where'd you put the paperwork on them?"

"What paperwork?"

Aldrich laughed and shook his head. "Their marriage contract, Manfred? I looked for it all over, and I keep forgetting to ask you where you filed it. I couldn't find yours and Cecilie's either."

"I thought you did Wolfram's contract. Friedrich, didn't you approve their marriage?"

Friedrich replied, "Wolfram only asked for my blessing. Aldrich's in charge of the marriage contracts. You of all people know that, Manfred." Friedrich gave Manfred a surprisingly evil green-eyed smile. "Ah, they're young and in love, Aldrich, let them get married without all that red tape."

"Chichi," said Aldrich, alarmed, "that's mean. Sire, you can't marry a von Bielenfeld without a contract. Ah… Manfred, you and Cecilie did make up a contract. Didn't you? "

"Well…" said Cecilie, sheepishly.

"No," admitted Manfred.

Aldrich stared at them, but spoke to Yuuri. "Sire… if you marry a von Bielenfeld, without a contract saying otherwise, you belong to him. Everything. All your property. Your children, either before or after the wedding. If you leave him, you leave with the shirt on your back and not even the freedom to marry again. Though he can remarry as he pleases. You lose everything." He turned to Wolfram. "Cousin… you need my permission to marry. I'm afraid I insist – that permission takes the form of my signature approving a contract. Please provide me a draft contract, and the name of Yuuri's advocate for further discussions. Sire, I recommend you seek Lord Wincott's assistance – not one of Wolfram's close relatives. I'm sorry, but it's not possible for you to marry the day after tomorrow."

Lord Wincott nodded agreement and reassurance at Yuuri.

"But! You're abusing your powers!" wailed Wolfram.

Brendan and von Wincott shook their heads emphatically. "No," said Brendan. "Aldrich is paying Yuuri back a favor. A default von Bielenfeld marriage is a hell of a thing to do to a friend. Shame on you, Wolfram."

"Ah, Wolfram?" said Yuuri, looking a bit sour. "I believe I'll take these gentlemen's advice and speak to Lord Wincott about this marriage contract business."

"And… my contract?" asked Cecilie.

"Apparently you don't have one," said Aldrich. "Your marriage was approved by… my predecessor." Manfred had approved his own marriage, of course, during the year he ruled Bielenfeld before Aldrich.

"But - !"

"Lord Erick," Aldrich said, distracted by someone at the door, and rose from the table.

Teodor von Trondheim and a look-alike younger man in sunglasses, both in formal von Trondheim attire, stood at the dining room door, attended by a nervous guard. Lord Erick, just over a century and likely not full grown, was taller than Ted. Wolfram hadn't seen him in a few decades – Erick rarely left Trondheim. He bowed stiffly toward Yuuri's seat, face unreadable, as Aldrich strode across the room. A smiling Yuuri made a move to rise and welcome his latest vassal. Wolfram grabbed his wrist in a vice-grip, urgently whispering, "Wait! Let Aldrich handle it!" Conrad stomped on Yuuri's foot from his other side. Grimacing at the brothers, Yuuri settled back in his chair.

Brendan looked like he'd rather lick a banana slug than greet his potential new coalition partner Erick. Wolfram could read that easily. They just turned into the pariah 'troll' coalition, and they can kiss Krist good-bye. If indeed Bielenfeld would tolerate alliance with traitorous Trondheim. Would Brendan? Aldrich's coalition may have just self-destructed… Though cousins from neighboring domains, and close in age, Wolfram had never heard that Erick and Brendan were friends.

"Lord Trondheim," Aldrich greeted Erick formally, with a bow. Gwendal hissed – Aldrich had addressed Erick as ruler of Trondheim, assuming his place among the Eleven Aristocrats, a point Gwendal by no means conceded. "May I offer you my condolences upon the death of your father, and congratulate you upon inheriting Trondheim." Aldrich offered his hand to clasp.

Erick bowed stiffly and returned the formal hand-clasp. "Is it to be so formal then between us, Lord Bielenfeld? I had hoped to seek your counsel as cousin and ally this night, before presenting myself to Yuuri Maou. I… did not realize you were dining together. My apologies for disrupting your meal, Sire."

Aldrich smiled warmly. "No, Erick. I sought only to give you your due."

Erick let his breath out explosively in relief, and turned the hand-clasp into an embrace. "Thank you, Aldrich. You are the first to do so – I shall treasure that always."

At this, Brendan looked thoughtfully at Wolfram. He was confirmed as Lord Gratz twenty-five years ago, in the wake of Adelbert's treason against Wolfram's mother and Shin Makoku. And before that, Adelbert had inherited Gratz upon Adeldan abdicating to join the trolls. Even Brendan's Uncle Friedrich Lord Bielenfeld hadn't bestirred himself down the Donza to attend, and his place looked mighty bare with only young Wolfram subbing in. Wolfram's words and actions that day on behalf of Bielenfeld, declaring to the nation that Bielenfeld still stood by Gratz, inspiring Maou Cecilie to do the same, forward looking to healing the rift, had meant the world to Brendan. Wolfram, recalling the same occasion, thoughtfully returned his gaze and nodded slightly.

"Sire, you'll have to excuse me from dinner," said Aldrich. "Brendan, you're welcome to join us, if you wish." Nice simple invitation, no pressure, thought Wolfram.

Not Brendan, but Conrad rose first from the table to speak. "Lord Bielenfeld, I've been meaning to request admittance to your coalition. May I join you and Lord Trondheim this evening as well?" Wolfram looked at him in amazement – not only had Conrad also acknowledged Erick as a peer, but he'd repudiated Gwendal's party in the Eleven – at least, as Gwendal would see it. He glanced briefly at Gwendal to confirm that indeed their elder brother was turning purple with rage.

Aldrich looked to Erick for assent. Teodor whispered in Erick's ear. The young giant nodded, face impassive behind his sunglasses. Aldrich smiled warmly to Conrad, "We would be delighted to find common cause, Lord Weller." So Brendan and Conrad left with Aldrich and Erick, and the autonomist coalition was reborn.

Not the troll party. Rather, the champions of the minorities, the independents, the rights of the domains, the guardians against the tyrrany of the majority, thought Wolfram. Huh. That fits. And at this conference… this is their day in the sun. He almost wished he could join them, but as Yuuri's political advisor, it was his job to advance federal solutions. And, he suspected Aldrich would be the first to tell him so. Aldrich truly believed in 'loyal opposition' – that the best solution emerged from a dialogue between opposite approaches. I hope I can help Yuuri see that, that Aldrich is as much his ally now as he was when he sat down beside him with Troll Mother. Even when – no, especially when – he offers up competing proposals to the Maou's. Fortunately, Yuuri was quite good at seeing things like that.

oOo

Yuuri came to bed late, but Wolfram was still awake in the dark, and snuggled into his arms. "Did you have a good talk with Lord Wincott?" he asked.

Yuuri stiffened, certain this was a loaded question. Yes, darling, I had a wonderful chat with Lord Wincott about the art of writing a marriage contract to protect my rights to my children and to divorce you, so you can't screw me over. It shouldn't take longer than half a year to complete negotiations. "Ah…" he said.

"Wimp!" replied Wolfram, then his soft husky bedroom voice returned. "It's alright, Yuuri. You've come a long way with my father's family since we met. I should have thought of that… Friedrich was happy to let you screw yourself over, that's his style. That Aldrich's actually looking out for your best interests – I think you've finally been accepted by the von Bielenfelds. And – I did screw up. I apologize."

Yuuri pursed his lips in the dark, and once pursed, decided to plant them on Wolfram's forehead. "Apology accepted… But, um, well, you didn't know, right?"

"Well… I did know," admitted Wolfram. "When my parents didn't get married, Aldrich went through hell finding a way for Chichiue to adopt me without forcibly taking me away from Hahaue… it was a godawful mess. And it was the battle over their marriage contract, that got me born out of wedlock in the first place. I did know. I just… didn't want to think about us ever breaking up. That was unfair to you. I'm sorry."

Yuuri slid down the bed a bit to put their noses together. "Hey, Wolfram. Trust me a little more, OK? I love you. I'm not going anywhere. But an honest agreement, with clear terms, is good for everybody. People change, the world changes. Dragons alight on rooftops, and you wake up in a different world than yesterday. People make mistakes, things are forgiven, other things aren't. Amidst all that noise and confusion, it's good to have a clear agreement to hold onto. Part of trust is saying what you expect. Trust me, love. I'm not writing a divorce contract. I'm writing a marriage contract. Because I want to be married to you as long as we both shall live." They shared a long, deep, lingering kiss.

Yuuri's tone changed to teasing to add, "Well, if we ever get married, that is. This Maou Wedding Curse is a bit daunting. Perhaps we should just stay engaged as long as we both shall live? I should ask von Wincott about writing an engagement contract to govern the time between now and – oof!" Wolfram got him with a hard jab to the gut. "Well, you've got to admit, Wolfram – there's a pattern to these weddings a lot like Manfred and Aldrich's suicidal majutsu experiments!" By the time Yuuri managed to get that sentence out, Wolfram had won the wrestling match and was straddling him, holding the black-haired man's wrists pinned above his head on the pillow.

"We. Will. Get. Married," asserted Wolfram.

"Yes, dear."

"We will."

"Yes, dear. I believe you." Yuuri tried to kiss him while being pinned beneath him. Wolfram dodged and teased, and finally relented for another long kiss, still holding Yuuri pinioned, then wandered his tongue along to Yuuri's ear and down the long muscle of his neck.

"Oh, hey," said Yuuri. "What did Tariel want to talk to you and Aldrich alone about?"

After a long pause, Wolfram said, "Majutsu stuff. My fire healing gift is… non-standard. It's technical, Yuuri – you wouldn't be interested."

Now if that had been an honest answer, he would have objected to me bringing it up instead of enjoying his lovemaking. Yuuri knew an evasion when he heard one. He pursed his lips. Trust needs a protected garden to grow… He was dying of curiosity, but… perhaps… "Hey. I love you. If you were… I dunno… to turn out to be a 'both' like Wolfred, for instance… I'd love a 'both' because I love you. You don't have to tell me, Wolfram. Take your time. I'll be here."

Wolfram didn't reply. He kissed Yuuri's neck, ran his tongue along his collarbone, teased and nipped at both nipples, and finally unpinned Yuuri's arms to head down Yuuri's belly, sticking a tongue into his bellybutton. He placed his palm on Yuuri's belly then. Healing fire tendrils erupted from it, wriggling and prancing all around Yuuri's torso, fingering his manhood, under and behind, his neck, his ribs.

Yuuri moaned and breathed out in a sweat. The passion in Wolfram's fire was… different. Clearer, yet more… animal somehow… wilder, lonely, hungry… Wolfram continued downward, unusual for him, and took Yuuri deep into his mouth. Yuuri moaned and raked his hands through Wolfram's hair, overcome by the emotional and physical sensations. "Wolfram…! Ah…!"

oOo

Trond Hall, March 20th

Dearest Aldrich, cousin, brother, colleague, best friend,

If you're reading this, I went to the trolls and died of it. I beg you, do not seek revenge, but respect it – for this was my free choice. As I respect your free choice not to go to the trolls, but to live. It's for you to seek peace between our troll and demon kin, to keep faith with the future. And perhaps, I hope – to find a way for me to be the last to die this way. But please understand, friend – I choose to keep faith with the past, for all who went before us.

Should you meet my daughter someday, please know that I loved and wanted her very much, an uptroll child, to take part in the rebuilding of the troll race. And if you DARE to compare my death with Glynda's, I shall haunt your sleep and nibble at your toes until you knock it off.

It's been a good life. I count you among the greatest blessings in it. I pray you get your wish, Aldrich. I love you always. Franklin.

oOo

Manfred put the letter down. "Thank you, for letting me read that," he said to Aldrich. It was midnight of the same night, in Aldrich's bedroom. When Aldrich's coalition meeting broke up, Erick had handed him the farewell letter from his father Franklin. Aldrich was in his cambric nightshirt contemplating the letter when Manfred came in. This was their first moment alone since Tariel's meeting.

So much to say … too much. Manfred remembered the night before he proposed to Cecilie, when Aldrich intervened before he and Cecilie could really hurt each other, because Manfred was reeling from too much, too fast… So take it slow, he thought. If it doesn't get said tonight, there will be other nights.

"What was your wish? If you don't mind my asking," said Manfred. When Aldrich didn't answer immediately, he continued, "Everyone assumed, after the phoenix, that my leg was my deepest grief, because the phoenix made the damage regenerate. But it wasn't me."

"I know," said Aldrich. "Chichi. Glynda and Cecilie, as well, I think, but Chichi told me. That was his grief and wish. Your leg, my arm. To redeem his grief over his whole family, Wolfred, Wolfgang, his wife, all the rest the Moron killed."

Manfred swallowed. "That is a lot of grief. No wonder." He disrobed and took a roomy blue cambric nightgown of Aldrich's to change into. "I would have guessed your grief was Glynda, her madness, a marriage without love, feeling honor-bound to stand by her in her illness and take her abuse."

"You know me well," breathed Aldrich. As Manfred squeezed into the big armchair beside him, he said, "Look, Manfred. Shouldn't you be with your wife?"

"Been there, done that. If you kick me out, I'll be roaming the halls to find someone else's bed to sleep in. Going back to hers tonight… would send an unfair mixed message." Aldrich looked a question. "I asked first. Was that the wish Franklin referred to?"

"Yeah," said Aldrich, relenting and cuddling Manfred close, looking over the top of his perpetually bedroom-tousled blond hairstyle, into space. "During our annual stag ski vacation in February. Lin said he couldn't believe it, that my grief and wish to the phoenix were over my arm instead of Glynda. I told him that I'd kinda thought that was my wish, too, but… It wasn't like that, you know? We didn't pose well-considered rational requests. The phoenix… just read our hearts directly. I wished…"

Aldrich knew full well what he wished. But he'd held his tongue for so long. He and Manfred had talked, agreed to stop hiding from each other, but… it wasn't just all of Wolfram's life. What Tariel had said, that the pull was strong, the attraction to another wood nymph, overpowering… Aldrich started hiding his feelings for Manfred thirty years before he came home disabled. Started drinking to hide from himself, avoided Manfred at parties, pulled away… And tonight he just felt raw. Too much in one week, the trolls, expecting to die, his son Dietrich in danger, Franklin's death, Manfred, his very being turned inside out with his maryoku, his very identity revised and revised again with troll, elf, and wood nymph, still a man but one who could be a mother by making seeds, of all things… But the wish of his heart remained. Well, if the phoenix could see that as the most important thing to me, maybe that's because… it is.

"I told Lin I wished to be loved, not… anything specific about Glynda," he eventually said softly. "I wanted… to have and to hold, a loving partnership, to raise Dietrich and more children within a love like that. So Lin just up and said, 'But you're in love with Manfred. You know, Aldrich, I think you haven't gotten your wish yet because you're all crosswise with yourself. You want Manfred to be Manfred, but you want to be domestic with Manfred, but you don't think Manfred wouldn't want that with you. Just… admit to yourself what you really wish.'" Aldrich snorted softly and added, "Then he said, 'And when you make up your mind, maybe you could just ask Manfred whether he'd want that, too, instead of assuming you know. Arrogant know-it-all.'"

Manfred laughed. "I don't know why I thought I knew you better than Franklin did."

Aldrich shook his head and played with Manfred's hair. "Not a chance." He closed his eyes and let himself feel it for a few moments, how much he'd miss Franklin, forever and ever.

"You underestimate me," said Manfred. "Maybe not yet. But that's only because we've been lying to each other. So, I talked to Cecilie tonight…"

"I don't know if I can deal with this tonight, Manfred," Aldrich said gently, pulling back and stroking Manfred's face with a finger. "Overload." He swallowed.

Manfred caressed him back, fingers stroking his cheek, thumb pressing inside his mouth to push a little on his back molars the way he liked. This trick also served to tell the more verbally adroit Aldrich that it was his turn to shut up and listen.

Manfred said, "I know, but – trust me a little, OK? So, there's this conference at home until fall, right? So, I want to share your room, and bring Efram back home, as well. And after the dragons and all get straightened out… I want to return to teaching. Retiring as a full-time playboy is shallow as hell. Somewhere along the line, I… grew up. I need my work. I don't feel useful here. I'd stay at the Institute some nights, but most nights… I'd come home. To be with you. And Dietrich. And Efram. Would you… be OK with that?"

"More than," Aldrich managed to whisper, and buried his face in Manfred's hair. "Cecilie…?"

"We agreed to that much, for now. No big sudden moves, divorce or anything, just play it by ear. We talked a long time, about all that Tariel said." He thought of something and frowned, and punched Aldrich gently. "We talked a lot about Dietrich. Dietrich overheard you tell Glynda you were a quarter troll? Right before she killed herself? That would send most kids around the bend." Manfred gauged Aldrich's reaction and concluded, "It did send Diet around the bend, didn't it. You should have told me. What happened?"

"What you'd expect," said Aldrich. "He blamed himself, thought his mother killed herself because he was too troll. Started cutting himself, hiding from everybody, even Trenton, nightmares constantly, flipped out and stabbed another kid… Chichi moved back home, helped a lot. And Brendan and Hilde. But you and Cecilie were honeymooning. You had your own lives and family down here."

"If Cheri'd known Diet were in trouble, she would have flown me up the Donza in a heartbeat. She wasn't Maou by mistake, Aldrich. She has a big heart. And she's all about kids. So. Deal? You and me, we live together. Cecilie's still my wife, but we just… keep walking and taking the next right step?"

Aldrich begged himself, pleaded with himself, Say yes! Say hell yes! Say something! And he thought about seeds. He wanted to try this, he wanted to have a child with Manfred, he wanted more than this not-divorce not-marriage. He wanted…

"OK, don't answer," said Manfred, kissing him tenderly on the forehead. "Think about it? I just brought this up tonight because you said you were leaving tomorrow."

"No, I need to stay another day because of Erick," said Aldrich. He rubbed his regenerating arm, And Tariel says I heal that tonight, too, dammit… "Dammit!" he exploded. "All this – of course I want you to live with me! I want nothing more in the world. And my head keeps spinning back to wanting to get home and save my hydrangeas that damn dragon chewed on! And worrying that Lord Howard will have the broken bushes pulled up and thrown away before I can heal them!"

Manfred cracked up laughing, and drew Aldrich into his arms, against his chest, and rocked him a little. "Aldrich?"

"What."

"Your valet knows how you feel about your garden. We all know how you feel about your garden. Your valet will protect the hydrangea bushes. With his life. Nobody will touch your hydrangeas. Promise."

"I'm pretty whacked out, huh."

"I'm guessing that meeting with Tariel was a mind-blower. Yuuri and Cheri and I figure you and Wolfram are 'both's and got sprouting instructions. Of course I'm dying to know how that works… And I want to hear all about it, but only when you feel ready to tell me. Which probably isn't right now. So. Let's climb into bed."

"Wait," said Aldrich. "Tariel… said a lot of stuff. He… rearranged my maryoku. He said I finish healing my arm tonight. But… I'm scared. What if… I try to do it, and it breaks what the phoenix did? If I don't try healing it, it'll finish regenerating in a year or three. But if I break it… And I haven't practiced with this new… healing fire…"

Manfred's career was teaching healing. He knew stage fright when he heard it. Fire healers were always afraid, the good ones, when they took on a new challenge, that they'd do a harm. He nodded and matter-of-factly pulled Aldrich out of the chair and into bed. "Off with the gowns, then. Show me your new fire."

They ooh'd and ah'd and experimented with the new fire a while, for Aldrich to get comfortable with it. Manfred loved the new touch of it, a cooler vibrant flame, more powerful, more dynamic yet more grounded, more Aldrich. Manfred gave Aldrich a dose of his own true fire as well, to tell him beyond any possible question, Aldrich was still his Aldrich, regardless of any identity revisions he was struggling with. There was yet this landmark for orientation – Manfred loved him utterly, whatever he was. And he was right where he wanted to be – with Aldrich.

Eventually Manfred shifted to a seated position on the bed, with Aldrich cradled in his arms. He made his own flame clinical to monitor Aldrich's self-healing, with the calm assurance of a man who'd supervised nervous healers stretching their limits a thousand times. Aldrich reached in with his flame, explored, and then it… clicked. He felt what he needed to do. Like a tree, the arm grew from its base up, and out. He drew the long arm bones and all the supporting structure out first, the nerves and veins and arteries, muscles and tendons, skin and fascia, all to their final length, to support and nourish the wrist bones and muscles as he grew them to final size, then the hand bones, then the finger bones.

He started to withdraw, and Manfred murmured, "Not yet. If you can lengthen the muscles, you can strengthen them. If you can grow bones, you can grow nails. Take your time, grow your hand strong and whole. You can do this."

It was fiddly work, the fine muscles and extensive nerves of the hand going every which way, but he stuck to it and finished, not only a regrown hand, but one with strength and dexterity – as much strength and dexterity as his right hand, in fact, since that was the model he had to work from. Then he withdrew and stretched the hand out in front of himself to look, turned it in wonder, felt the muscles flex again, after nearly a century.

And he turned and touched Manfred's face with his new hand, feeling his hair, his eyelashes, his lips. "I love you," he whispered. "Come live with me. As much time as you can. Let's raise our kids together."

Manfred smiled and nodded. Aldrich turned around and straddled him, running both his hands all over the beautiful compact blond. He kissed Manfred, deeply on the mouth, the ears, the neck, the collarbone, the nipples. He placed his palm on Manfred's belly, sent his cool orange-green-blue fire tendrils playing all over his torso. And kissed his way down, to take Manfred deep into his mouth.

"Ah…. Aldrich!… hey… I love it but… when you do that…ah!… your sinuses always… aah!"

"Shut up, Manfred," Aldrich explained.

Manfred laughed. "Yes, my liege… ah…" And he leaned back to enjoy whatever Aldrich wanted to do to him.

That being exactly what Wolfram had done to Yuuri.

oOo

Bananam00n's illustration (on my homepage link on author's profile) was drawn at this point in the story.

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