Title: Prince (ess?) Yuri and the Pea
Genre: comedy/Romance
Pairing: Wolfyuu and hinted Gwendel /Anissina.
Disclaimer: Don't own KKM and don't own the fairytale.
A/N: …
-(0)o(0)-
"You did what?" Wolfram demanded, his left eyebrow twitching uncontrollably as he tried to reign in his anger.
"Aww, Wolfy," Queen Celi prettily pouted. "Don't be like that. I only arranged this ball for you tomorrow for your own good." His mother then clasped her hands together and beamed. "Don't worry, Wolfram! I only invited the most beautiful princesses to the ball."
"Mother!" Wolfram exclaimed childishly as he balled up his fists. "I never asked for you to through me a ball! Who I marry and when is nobody's business but my own!"
The prince's complaints, however, fell on deaf ears. Queen Celi merely smiled and waved her hand carelessly; "Of course it's my business. I want you to be with someone who will make you happy and you deserve the best!"
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Wolfram sighed, "Mother, I know you mean well but—"
"That's enough Wolfram." Queen Celi interrupted, halfheartedly chastising her youngest son. She then sang; "You'll thank me for this someday, sweetie."
Wolfram hung his head in defeat and sighed; "If you say so, mother." Upon hearing her son concede to her idea of the ball, Queen Celi squealed with delight before she waltzed out of her son's room leaving Wolfram speechless. As soon as his mother closed the door behind her, Wolfram unceremoniously collapsed onto his bed. Glaring at the ceiling, he let out a disgruntled sigh at the awkward turn of events that made up his life before his thoughts wandered back to the strange peasant he ran into earlier that day.
"Yuri.." Wolfram mumbled, crinkling his eyebrows together. For some weird reason the prince wasn't able to get the commoner out of his mind which vexed him to no end. Yuri was wimpy. The guy couldn't even ride his horse to save his life; therefore, Yuri should not have been a person that the prince should have a hard time forgetting.
'Then again," Wolfram thought, smiling bitter sweetly; 'the wimp was nice, funny, and cute…' At that the blonde prince face palmed himself in annoyance. ' What's the matter with me? Thinking so intently on someone I just met when a ball is going to be held for me tomorrow…' With that final thought Wolfram reluctantly prepared for bed and a restless night's sleep.
"Oh Yu~uri!" Murata sang as he ripped the hotel's curtains open, letting the morning rays flood the room. Yuri let out a low whine, quickly closing his eyes before the sun could blind him even further.
Pulling the covers over his head Yuri groaned. Sadly, this movement caused the young prince to hiss in pain due to the injuries he sustained from being thrown from his horse the day before. With a wince, Yuuri turned to his adviser and pleaded; "Go away Murata. It's way too early for this".
"No can do, my prince!" Murata happily mocked. He then ripped the blankets off his friend causing Yuri to glare up at his friend. Murata, completely unfazed, smiled. "We got to get you ready for your meeting with Queen Celi."
"What are you talking about?" Prince Yuri yawned. He then sat up and began to stretch, "My meeting with the Queen isn't until this evening so I don't have to get ready yet."
Murata placed his hand on his hip and with his free hand he wagged his finger and 'tsked', "Actually, because of your faux pas of almost running over Prince Wolfram, I think we should have you go to the palace in disguise."
Yuri stared blankly at his adviser before he pinched the bridge of his nose and weakly asked; "disguised as what, exactly?"
Not even able to hide his smile, Murata leaned over and pulled out a black bag out from underneath the bed. He then started to loudly rummage around its contents. Curiosity got the best of Yuri and he limped across the cool, wooden, floor to see what it was Murata was looking for. Much to Yuri's annoyance, however, Murata kept twisting around keeping the bag and its secrets hidden. Right when Yuri thought he had reached his breaking point Murata looked up at the prince smiling and his glasses gleaming.
"Eh, Murata?" Yuri blinked, suddenly worried by his adviser's behavior. After all, it has always been Yuri's belief that whenever Murata's glasses gleamed, in anyway, it meant something bad or uncomfortable was going to happen. Shaking his head, hoping it would get rid of his eerie feeling, Yuri stuttered. "Wh-what is it you got there?"
"Ta-da!" Murata grinned, whipping out a beautiful sea green colored dress out of the bag complete with lace and ruffles. "Isn't this little ensemble just darling?" Murata chuckled while Yuri comically glared at the dress in mixture disgust and disbelief.
"Murata, what the hell is that…that…green monstrosity?" Yuri shrieked, pointing at the dress as if it were on fire.
Murata only blinked back in surprise at his friend's outburst as he glanced down at the poor, unoffending, dress then back to Yuri. After several tense seconds he finally stated in feigned innocence; "why I do believe it is your dress."
"What?" Yuri demanded as he began to angrily pace across the room. "I thought I put an end to this forced cross-dressing thing years ago!" He paused to pointedly stare at his bespectacled friend, "what exactly hope to accomplish dressing me up as a girl?"
'You don't want to know, Shibuya.' Murata thought. Thankfully, Murata was prepared for this kind of reaction from the prince and already planned several ways he could dupe—or rather convince— Yuri into the dress. Sighing in fake exasperation, Murata began to explain, "Your gender was never specified when the meeting was set up and you'd be too easily recognized by Prince Wolfram if you showed as Prince Yuri. If you showed up as Princess Yuri, however—"
"Stop right there!" Yuri interrupted, blushing in a mixture of embarrassment and fury. The prince then took a deep breath in order to keep calm and prevent losing his temper and said; "I refuse to wear a dress."
Throwing the dress back into the bag, Murata shrugged; "Fine. Don't do it."
"Eh?" Yuri blinked in confusion as he sat down on the edge of the bed. The prince just couldn't understand it. Normally Murata didn't give up so easily. He usually tried to make the prince feel guilty. Then, much to Yuri's surprise, he watched his adviser start to throw more of his belongings into the bag.
"What do you think you are doing?" Yuri weakly demanded as Murata pulled the drawstrings of the bag closing it.
"I'm just preparing for our departure since the queen will never allow us to meet with her if she thought we almost hurt her precious Prince Wolfram." Murata lied effortlessly. Although it was a blatant lie Yuri's jaw dropped and he made a face similar to that of a cornered mouse coming eye to eye with a starving cat. Murata almost laughed then and there but was successful in preventing any chuckle from escaping his lips for he knew that if he laughed the jig would be up.
'I better hit him with some guilt before he starts to think of a solution to this 'problem' himself'. Murata deliberated as he watched the prince nibble on his bottom lip. Swinging the bag over his shoulder with ease, Murata continued in a forced defeated tone; "Yes, after all, once the prince alerts his mother that we almost ran him over we will be thrown out of the castle so fast that our heads will spin. Then we will have to admit your failure as a prince to your mother, father, and older brother—"
"Alright I get it!" Yuri whined, effectively cutting his adviser off. Getting up, prince Yuri began to anxiously pace around the room much to Murata's amusement. "I guess if it helps me prove to my family that I am capable of handling important matters, such as international relations, I guess I can suck it up and put the dress on…"
Smiling in victory, Murata beamed, "Excellent Shibuya! Now take off your clothes!"
"What? Why?" Yuri demanded with his face turning redder than a tomato.
"This dress," Murata mischievously grinned, pulling out the aforementioned dress out of the bag. "Requires curves. Therefore you must wear a corset."
Yuri blinked back owlishly at Murata, then the dress, then again on Murata before he bluntly stated, "You can't be serious."
"As serious as a heart attack." Murata countered just as bluntly. "Come on, take'em off."
Knowing there was no way to get out of it, Yuri swallowed his pride as he slowly reached for the hem of his night shirt. Trying to suppress his blush, and failing miserably, he quickly ripped the shirt off revealing the black and blue skin hidden underneath.
"Oh my," Murata stated in surprise as he looked over his Yuri's upper body, noticing it was covered in bruises. He couldn't help but mentally wince at the pain and discomfort that he imagined his friend was feeling. He then started to wonder if his friend would even be able to dance at the ball without looking awkward. Shaking his head he asked, "Are those bruises from being thrown off the horse yesterday? Man, you are going to be sore for days. Are you alright?"
Yuri shrugged before smiling hopefully, "if I say I won't be fine, can I not wear the corset?"
"Hell no." Murata dead panned causing Yuri to hang his head in defeat. Murata then pulled out a thin, white, garment that was covered in hooks and straps. The color drained from Yuri's face as soon as he saw and at that moment he was certain that the word corset was an ancient word meaning, 'torture device'. Murata then beamed, "I bet you're going to look great Princess Yuri."
Yuri immediately glowered at the word princess since it brought back embarrassing memories of his mother forcing him into dresses. Deciding that Murata was having far too much fun Yuri turned to his companion, "you know I think it is unfair that I'm the only one playing dress up."
Faltering slightly, Murata thought to himself, 'well this is an odd turn of events.' He then mentally cursed himself for pushing Yuri too far with his teasing before asking, "Eh, Shibuya, wh-what do you mean?"
This time it was Yuri who grinned when he said, "If I have to go out in drag then you have to too."
Murata unfazed by Yuri's announcement, hummed; "I guess I can pick up a dress for myself after we get you into the corset, dress, fix your hair, and do your makeup." While fell backwards onto his bed in defeat.
Wolfram had never been so uncomfortable or furious in his entire life. There he was, a proud prince of a powerful and wealthy country, reduced to little more than a piece of meat that every single princess in the palace wanted a piece of. He was only ten minutes into the introductions and several princesses were already playing dirty. Already he had witnessed Princess Elizabeth, a childhood friend of his, trip two girls as they walked over to introduce themselves! To top it all off his second oldest brother, Conrart, was just standing in the corner smiling. As if he found the whole damn thing amusing.
'Just you wait, Weller, one day you'll get yours and I'll be the one laughing it up in the corner.' Wolfram vowed as Princess 'What's-Her-Name' introduced herself. Regardless, Wolfram still bowed but kept gazing through the throng of princesses. He quickly noticed half of them were blonde, blue eyed, curvaceous, and flirtatious and he had no intention of marrying any of them. As far as Wolfram was concerned, they were exact replicas of his mother and the last time he checked his name was Wolfram Von Bielefeld not Oedipus (1). The rest of the princesses, however, were only at the ball for the hope of more money and weren't even trying to hide it. Therefore, the thought of being stuck with one of the money hungry princesses the rest of his life made Wolfram's skin crawl.
'It appears as though mother threw this ball for nothing.' Wolfram thought bitterly. 'I doubt I'll find a princess I want to marry here.'
On the other side of the ballroom, far removed from Wolfram, sat Queen Celi who was basking in the glow of the ball's success with Günter by her side looking a little less than thrilled. It appeared as though every princess she had invited came and the others were still arriving. The food that she taste tested was divine and the decorating committee outdid themselves. Queen Celi decided to have the committee decorate the ballroom in various shades of blue since blue was Wolfram's best color. It turned out splendidly with blue lines adorning the tables that had ice blue flowers in clear vases on top. She even had blue beads cascading over the chandeliers which bathed the ballroom blue rays of light here and there.
"Ah Günter, "Queen Celi glowed as she waves at the crowd. "Look at all these beautiful ladies here just to meet my son! I just know my Wolfram will find a winner here."
"If you say so, my majesty." Günter sighed with his voice laced with doubt. He didn't meet many of the marriage candidates but the ones he did meet were less than satisfactory. Günter uncomfortably coughed and asked, "I see prince Conrart could make it to his little brother's ball but I have yet to see Gwendel."
"Oh that," Queen Celi giddily waved her hand. "I told him that his friend, Princess Anissina, was coming to the ball and was looking forward to seeing him."
'So he is hiding.' Günter mentally gathered. He then looked where young Wolfram was and, much to his relief, it appeared as though the young prince was anything but thrilled by the princesses he was meeting. Günter mentally sighed in relief. If the prince didn't find someone that he wished to marry then Queen Celi would never know that he wasn't able to come up with a test for the chosen princess to take to prove that she was, in fact, a true princess. 'All I can do is hope that either Prince Wolfram doesn't find his love tonight or that I come up with some sort of test before the night is over.' Günter thought as he dejectedly leaned back in his chair.
"Damn, these heels are more painful than the corset." Yuri winced with every step he took down the hall of the castle. As far as he was concerned everything up till now had been a disaster. He kept tripping over the bottom of his dress so many times and he almost fell on top of the soldier that helped him off the horse. The makeup on his face felt itchy and the lipstick tasted awful and he just wanted to wipe it off with his sleeves. Then, to top it all off, the damn hairclips that Murata insisted on putting in his hair kept coming loose and falling out!
'Plus, I have a feeling that Murata and mother were not being honest when they said that there was a meeting for me attend.' The prince thought grimly. Never in his life did he attend a royal meeting where there were ten to fifteen guards waiting outside to help people out off horses of out of their carriages.
Not to mention the strange abundance of noble looking women dressed in formal party clothes…
"Oh stop your complaining!" Murata weakly hobbled on his own set of heels. Thankfully, unlike Yuri, his dress only went down to the middle of his shins and hadn't tripped yet.
Yuri rolled his eyes. "How's come I have to wear a corset and heels while you get to wear a loose, shorter, dress without a corset?" he complained as he enviously looked over the purple, cotton, dress and frilly, white, apron Murata got to wear. While he was forced to wear a long, silky, green gown that had, as Murata put it, 'a sweetheart neckline'. The accursed thing also had lighter green see through lace that came up around his neck to, 'hide his Adam's apple' and 'square shoulders'.
"Because," Murata groaned for the umpteenth time. "you are a princess. Therefore you have to look the part and curves for their gowns are a must." Murata sniffed; "I, on the other hand, am your humble, faithful servant and can't afford to wear such clothing and, due to work, loose fitting clothing is far more appropriate than fitted clothing."
"Uh-huh." Yuri raised his eyebrow, totally unconvinced. He then stopped walking and placed his hands on his hips. "Murata, tell me the truth. Why are there so many princesses here?"
Murata faltered in step slightly. He was hoping to break the news to Yuri about the real reason behind their trip here once they were inside the ballroom. That way Yuri wouldn't be able to make a scene or runaway. Looking over his shoulder, Murata forcefully smiled, "Don't be silly, Shibuya. You know the reason why we're here. Come on, we're already late enough as it is."
Suppressing a sigh Yuri began to walk hall once again mush to Murata's relief. Through the silence Yuri noticed something. He could hear music and muffled voices as they got closer to end of the hall.
"Murata," Yuri interrogated; "why does it sound like there is some sort of party going on?"
"A celebration of your arrival?" Murata offered weakly.
"Murata." Yuri glared and Murata nervously chuckled. Murata knew that Yuri was in no mood for games.
Murata sighed in defeat; "Yuri the thing is …there is this ball…"
"What?" Yuri jumped in anger, almost falling down due to losing his balance due to the heels. After regaining his composure Yuri threw his hands up in the in frustration. "I should have known you two were scheming of a way to get me into a dress! You and mom planned this out, didn't you?" he demanded.
"Well I technically still work for Queen Jennifer…" Murata offered lamely.
"Oh I can't believe you two!" Yuri seethed, face palming himself while Murata rubbed the back of his head bashfully. "I s this entertaining to you two? You were really going to let me go in there, make an idiot out of myself!"
Interrupting Yuri, Murata began to state calmly, "we just thought Prince Wolfram would think that you are—"
"Weird!" Yuri growled finishing off Murata's sentence. "Prince Wolfram will think I am weird if he suddenly saw me in a dress!" he said as he furiously pointed at the gown he was wearing. Before Yuri was able to continue to voice his frustration over both Murata's and his mother's behavior, feminine laughter coming from behind them cut him off. Looking over his shoulder with embarrassment at the thought that someone overheard him, Yuri saw a beautiful blonde haired woman dress in a sexy, little, black gown that had a slit up to the middle of her thigh.
Giddily smiling, the blonde woman announced, "I am your hostess, Queen Celi."
"Pleasure to meet you Queen Celi!" Murata quickly curtseyed while Yuri stood still in a mixture of surprise and shock. Then, before Yuri could have the chance to explain to her that he was in fact male, Murata smiled pointing at a dumbstruck Yuri. "This is Princess Yuri and I am her humble servant, Murata."
Snapping out of self induced trance, Yuri snapped; "Now wait a minute Murata!" however any other protests Yuri had died in his throat when the queen gingerly touched his shoulder and smiled warmly.
"Ahh, so you're Princess Yuri. You have the most beautiful black hair!" She squealed as she cupped Yuri's red face in her hands. "Ahh, and it's short. You know not many girls can pull off short hair but you pull it off wonderfully!"
"Th-thank you." Yuri stammered shyly, acting very much like a shy, proper, princess; while Murata successfully contained his laughter over the prince's actions.
Queen Celi then grabbed a shocked Yuri by the wrist and pulled him down the hall, giggling, "my Wolfram is just going to adore you!"
Yuri opened and closed his mouth several times in surprise until he saw that they were standing right in front of the door to the ballroom. It was then Yuri realized that he was going to meet the blonde haired prince while he was dressed as a female. Trying to remove his wrist from the deceivingly strong woman's grasp, he fumbled; "I don't think so Queen Celi—"
"Don't be silly!' The giddy woman interrupted with a wave of her free hand. "I overheard you and your servant talking. Wolfram won't find you weird he'll find you to be absolutely darling!" She then pushed open the door and Yuri was overwhelmed by the loudness of the ball and the strong scent of different perfumes mingling together. There were princesses everywhere and in the center of the room was Wolfram who just bowed in front of a girl dressed in bright pink. On his way back up, Wolfram locked eyes with Yuri and stared.
Yuri, on the other hand, gulped.
(1)Oedipus is the main character in the story, Oedipus the King. He is the guy that killed his father and married his mother. (To the guy's credit though, he didn't know he killed his dad and married his mom until it was too late.)