I do not own KKM, Tomo Takabayashi owns the series.

Go easy on me. I wrote quite a bit of this while my hot, drunken roommate wandered around me topless and spouting "I love you"s. I was a tad distracted.

Thanks for the reviews! I'm really excited about this story. For reference the rest of this story takes place around the end of season three, roughly between 83 and 85 years after the prophecy. Yuuri is around 17yrs old and Wolfram around 84-85 yrs old. Sorry if the math doesn't quite add up, but I was a little unsure about the time length during the series itself. Either way, it has been at least four years since Yuuri accidently proposed.

Chapter One

If Looks Could Kill,

"Though it pains me that it has come to this, we have no other choice."

Yuuri glanced at the solemn faces around him. "I know our loses have been great. I know we are running on the very last of our strength. But I also know we have the vitality, spirit and determination to win this"

Murmurs of awe and admiration rang out in agreement.

The great demon king stood over his squadron, assessing the newest decrease in able- bodied individuals. It had not been a successful battle tactic they had used in the previous round. With a heavy sigh, the Maoh took in the weary faces of his loyal troops.

"Let's go over the plan. When the enemy approaches, alpha team, we'll flank left. Beta team, you will break off into two groups and attack from the right and front lines. And Greta," Yuuri placed a comforting hand on his daughter's shoulder, "you will make the ultimate sacrifice for our victory." He paused and gave her a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. I want you in the line of fire. Taking you down will provide the opening we need. Do you think you can do that?"

The young red head nodded, resigned to her fate. "Be strong, Greta. You need to be strong." He crouched down and placed his hands on her shoulders. "You make me proud to be your father. I am so sorry it had to come to this." He stood up to face his comrades. "Does everyone know what to do?"

More nods from the group. "Great. Now I know this has been hard on all of us. They outnumber us and outmatch our skill for sure, but with this strategy, we will surely crush them! Ready?...GO!"

The group scattered and spread out. With several apron covered men and women, a dark haired boy in glasses darted left to avoid the oncoming uniformed wave heading their way. As the soldiers drew closer, the second group of servants shot out from behind the first and split two ways.

Yuuri, leading alpha team, swerved to the left to avoid the soldier's fast approach. He could see his main opponent perfectly. A head of raging sunlight for hair, his uniform was caked with mud and his boots no longer the finely polished display they usually were. His glare was fixed intensely on the demon king, his lips pulled into a fine pout.

The golden haired leader of soldiers charged forward with only the demon king in mind, but a flash of deep red caught his eye at the last second. He stared in shock as his daughter broke free from her ranks and surged forth to meet him in battle. "Here I come, Papa Wolf!"

Wolfram sighed, "Greta, you little fool. Did you really think you had what it takes to face me?" With that, he leaped into the air. Grasping Greta by the shoulder, he used his full weight to force her sideways into the ground, rolling off her effortlessly and brushing himself off. He looked down at his fallen child. That was his mistake.

"Yargh!"

Wolfram looked up just in time to see Yuuri heading straight at him, with little time to escape. "Damn" he cursed under his breath. Glancing to the around, he found his men blocked on all sides from him by the opposing forces. "Damn, damn, damn, damn!" He made a last ditch effort to turn and run, but that became all the opening Yuuri needed. With a mighty cry he tackled Wolfram into the bushes, scattering leaves and flower petals to the wind.

The rest of the group paused and watched in amusement as the pair scuffled and rolled about the courtyard's garden. Between the snarling blonde and grunting double black, they had quite a show to behold. A thorn bush was crunched with a pair of yelps and curses. The onlookers flinched; Lady Celia was not going to be happy when she saw this mess.

Wolfram managed to roll himself on top, but when he attempted to pin his captive's hands, Yuuri lashed out and ripped the red handkerchief out of the neck of his jacket.

"I win!"

"No you don't!" Wolfram yelled, "you wimp, you still need to get the flag to your side!" Yuuri smiled up at him in his usual goofy way.

"But Wolf, we areon my side."

"…WHAT?"

Sure enough, as the third prince looked about him, the particular flower patch they were currently sprawled in was indeed on other side of the chalk lined grass.

The maids and servants cheered enthusiastically while Wolfram's soldiers calmly brushed themselves off and waited to be dismissed by their commanding officer. Those already been dubbed "Out" in the previous rounds sat around the edges of the courtyard applauding and exchanging monetary wins and losses. A certain Daikenja in particular was raking in quite large sum money.

Murata adjusted his glasses and sent the maids off giggling with a wink. The sage smirked at the royal couple. "That's quite the compromising position you've put yourself in, Lord Bielefeld." He chuckled at the indignant squawk the young prince let out as he hastily stood up.

Wolfram jumped away from Yuuri quickly. He hadn't meant to straddle him! He ignored Yuuri's questioning gaze. Of course the idiot wouldn't understand the implications of such a position. His mind was still stuck in the innocence of a child's.

With a huff, Wolfram headed towards his soldiers and assumed a salute. "You are dismissed men, good job out there." The salute was instantly returned in full with a resounding, "Yes Sir Von Bielefeld" and the troops were gone.

"Wolf" The closeness of Yuuri's voice caused him to stiffen up. It took all of Wolfram's willpower not to turn around. He almost jumped when a hand was placed against his back. "You have thorns in your jacket," warm air puffed against Wolfram's ear and he had to strain to keep his knees from buckling.

"In fact" Yuuri continued, "You have thorns everywhere." He grasped the blond by the shoulders and turned him around. Oblivious to the ever changing shades of red blooming across the other's face, he proceeded to inspect him from head to toe. His hands made clumsy work of dislodging as many of the protrusions as possible, succeeding in only fraying the uniform just a little. When he reached to take care of the few clinging to a slender hip, Yuuri found his hands slapped away quite suddenly.

An angry pout was fixed firmly over Wolfram's face, although, if Yuuri looked closer, he could see the glare didn't reach the other's eyes. In fact, Wolfram was avoiding his eyes completely.

"Wimp" Wolfram reached up and made a show of smoothing out the wrinkles in Yuuri's shirt. He missed the days when he didn't have to look up to stare into Yuuri's eyes; it got annoying being at eye level with his neck. "You're covered in them too, see?" He flicked his wrist forward like a magician presented a card and held one of the planty spikes, a former resident of the collar of Yuuri's shirt. He plucked out a few more. "Learn to take care of yourself for once. What good is a King full of holes?" A snicker met his ears and he felt himself smile.

"Well excuse me for—Wolf, You're bleeding!"

"Where" Wolfram inspected his arms and hands; no damage there.

"On your cheek" Yuuri brushed a stray lock of gold out of the way to better see the scrape adorning the noble's face. He ran his fingers along the bottom of it and leaned into the gauge how deep it was. "Right here. One must have scratched you, Wolf…Wolf?"

Once again, Wolfram was the color of a tomato. He muttered something about training and made to pull away.

"Hang on" Yuuri's grip was firm on his arm. "Let me at least take care of it first." He reached for the cut again, but was intercepted by a manicured hand.

"No"

"But, Wolfram…"

"I said N—"

"DADDY!"

They both turned around at the youthful cry just in time for a blur of red to collide with Yuuri's side. Greta! Wolfram had forgotten she was there. By the looks of it, both she and Murata had decided to stick around for their little display.

The Sage had a smug grin on his face, his eyes concealed by the glare on his glasses. 'Great' Wolfram thought. 'Just what I needed; more gossip for the stupid Love Lottery.' He focused back on his daughter, who was now tugging determinedly on her father's arm.

"Papa Yuuri, you promised come see the new teddy (A/N: or is it a piggy? XD) Uncle Gwendal made me. Please? It's only fair; I helped you win the game!" She gave the biggest puppy dog eyes she could muster.

"But, Wolfram"

"Papa Wolf already saw my teddy. You're the only one who hasn't seen it. Please, Papa Yuuri. Pretty, pretty please, please, please?"

Yuuri tore his eyes away from the wide teary expression of his daughter. It was too much. 'Where had she learned to act so cute and innocent?' (A/N: gee, Yuuri, I wonder!). He gave his trademark sheepish grin to Wolfram and scratched the back of his head with his Greta-free arm. "I'm sorry Wolf. She really wants me to go right now" He gestured to the redheaded princess. "Make sure you have Gisela heal that cut for you."

The small girl besides him let out a gasp. "Papa Wolf, you got a cut?" She untangled herself from the double black and latched onto her other father's waist. "You got hurt, Papa." She stretched out a hand and patted the scrape gently.

"It's just a little nick."

"And he's going to Gisela right now." Yuuri stared his fiancé down with his own grade of stubbornness. Just to add to the stance, he crossed his arms over his chest and glared just like Wolfram was doing now.

Greta looked back and forth between her parents, her brow wrinkled in consideration and worry. She turned back to Wolfram. "I go with you?"

Wolfram's eyes soften and he kneeled down to pat her head affectionately. "That won't be necessary, Greta. You go with Yuuri like you wanted. Besides," he stood up and stretched a bit "demons can heal small little marks like this easily on their own. It's all a part of being Demons." He stressed the last word with a pointed look in Yuuri's direction that said, 'if you weren't such a wimp, you might know that'.

Murata let out a muffled noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

"eheheheh…" Now that he thought about it, Yuuri might have recalled a lesson or two with Gunter his first year here all about such abilities. Then again, he had seen firsthand what was considered an injury and what "just a scratch" was. Why had he gotten so worked up over such a small thing then? "Well, if you are sure Wolfram. I guess I'll let you go train like you wanted."

Wolfram bristled. 'You'll let me?" He restrained the urge to roast the boy-king alive and gave Greta one more pat on the head. "I'll take my leave then."

"Wait! I almost forgot, you might still have some thorns on you. We never checked the back." Yuuri rushed forward and spun Wolfram away from him to look at his back.

"Yuuri!" Wolfram hissed, turning back around to grip him by the front of his shirt. "I am perfectly capable of checking myself." He growled.

Yuuri put his hands up in an abating fashion and smiled nervously. "I just thought I'd help, Wolf. No need to get so bent out of shape. What's the big deal? Why can't I check it out for you?"

"YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO 'CHECK OUT' MY BACKSIDE," Wolfram shouted. "And in Public no less!"

Somewhere, Gwendal's eye had taken up an unusual twitch and Gunter collapsed from blood loss through the nose…

"Wha…" Yuuri blinked.

"Whoo-hoo!" Murata catcalled while Greta giggled behind her hands. "Seventeen years old and the Maou finally heats things up his Fiancé. Wait to go, Your Majesty!"

Yuuri instantly blanched. "Wha—Whoa, whoa, WHOA!" Yuuri jumped back and flailed his around about in the air in a very Gunter-like fashion. "You've got it all wrong, Murata! Come on, that's not even funny! We're both boys for crying out loud! Why doesn't anyone get that? We're—where are you going, Wolfram?"

A very anger blond was stomping away in the opposite direction, his hands stiff and balled at his sides. "TO TRAIN!"

"Wolfram." Yuuri called out to him. "Hey Wolfram, wait. Hey!"

But Wolfram had already turned a corner and out of the courtyard.

"I don't get it. What'd I do this time?" Yuuri turned to Greta. She shrugged her shoulders, the young girl just as much confused by her temperamental father. "Murata?"

The sage was already walking away with his hands tucked behind his head in a carefree manner. "If you have to ask, Shibuya, then you'll never know," he sang with a wave of his hand.

Yuuri frowned one more time in the direction Wolfram had taken and then turned back to Greta. "Come on, Greta" he took her small hand in hers, "I guess we'll go see that teddy you were talking about." With that they headed off towards Greta's room. "Wait a second," Yuuri paused, "Wolfram already did his training today before we played Schal der Königsfamilie(1)" he glanced over his shoulder at the spot Wolfram had once been standing.

"Where could he be going then?"

thisisaline

"Stupid…lousy…of all the…" Wolfram stormed through the hallways in dark cloud of emotion. "Thinks he can…as if…idiotic…inconsiderate…aaarrrhhhHHHHHGGGGG WIMP!"

A few passing maids darted back into the room they were cleaning and peeked cautiously out at him. The only ones brave enough to find joy and gossip when Wolfram was this ticked off were the managers of the Love Lotto itself, Doria, Sangria, Lasagna, and Effee. It could only be because they usually routed for his engagement that he was less likely to go after them for it. Everyone else with less familiarity knew better than to make an angry Bielefeld even angrier. The usually brave and fearless guards that defended the inhabitants of Blood Pledge flattened themselves against the wall to avoid becoming noticeable targets of the blonde's wrath. He paid them all no mind as he continued on his angry not-so-inner tirade.

"Damn Wimpy king. Does he have any idea what he does to me?" The blush was returning to Wolfram's face. He could still feel the warmth from Yuuri's hands and the soft brush of the boy breath across his face. He had been so close. Too close. 'This is getting ridiculous' Wolfram thought. 'I can't make excuses to avoid him forever.' He turned the corner onto a deserted corridor and leaned against the wall to brood. 'This is not good at all.'

Things had begun to change for the fire wielder over the years. When Yuuri first dropped into his world, Wolfram had thought nothing of love, and crushes, and, more importantly, needs. No one had ever sparked his interest or made his cheeks grow hot. The handsomest courters of him had never succeeded in making his knees quake or his ears burn red. Yuuri hadn't either…at first. Slowly, Yuuri had weaseled into his heart and into his dreams. That boy's smile had won him over. His innocent kindness and cheerful spirit was enough to make Wolfram's spoiled, selfish façade fall away and leave the lonely, timid child hidden underneath bare and exposed. Of course, his pride and dignity had quickly stepped in to ensure no one outside his closest family and friends saw such fragility. What would the lords and ladies of the court say if they saw what power their naïve ruler had over the once headstrong and sharp-tongued prince? A kind word and a pat on the shoulder, and the blond was putty in his hands.

But it was far worse than that now. What Wolfram would have given to have the prying eyes and ears of the court be his one concern like it had been only a year or two ago. Alas, he had a more disastrous problem brewing now. Yuuri was stirring up …unfamiliar emotions. Urges, wants; waking up in cold sweats and starting the day off with even colder showers (A/N: can they take showers in Shin Makoku?). Once innocent dreams of hand holding and tender words had now become intense fantasies of panting breaths, tangled limbs, and whispered promises of carnal desires so lewd it would make even his mother feel faint.

"This doesn't make any sense" Wolfram muttered, "I was never like this". It was true; Wolfram hadn't pegged himself for someone who would want to fall to the desires of the flesh so eagerly, and before he became engaged to Yuuri, he would have been correct in his assumptions. But as the demon king grew older, his shoulders a broader, and his muscle a toner, feelings Wolfram was not aware he was capable of having awoke and blossomed.

The gentle double black and his justice seeking counterpart, the Maou, were steadily joining and creating one entity. Yuuri's eyes still had the same compassionate and charming quality they always had, but they were through the narrow, more refined eyes of a young man. His hair was growing faster than his liking and foiling his many haircut attempts, forcing him to leave it brushing against the top of his shoulders. Needless to say, the already lengthy list of the King's longing admirers had doubled in the past year alone.

Wolfram hugged himself and curled in towards the wall. "I've never been this" he bit his lip as a shiver went through him, "hormonal." He hated to admit it, but he craved Yuuri. His scent, his voice, his touched, Wolfram wanted it all. It took all the effort he had to keep his shameful secret hidden from anyone, especially Yuuri. Sleeping in the same bed was getting more difficult for him, not that Wolfram was going to give up the opportunity. Not when Yuuri had gradually stopped telling him to sleep in his own room. It was the one right he did get to act upon as the Maou's fiancé and he wasn't about to throw it away on the off chance his body got the best of him in the dead of night.

Still, it was hard to resist the temptation; lying next to him and all. The raven hair spilling across the pillows, the steady rise and fall of a firmed, bare chest; Wolfram almost had a conniption the first time Yuuri started sleeping shirtless. A faint tint was staining Wolfram's cheeks just remembering it. Yuuri was the man of his dreams.

And…he would forever stay that way.

Wolf wasn't a fool, he was well aware of how Yuuri viewed the concept of two males being together. He was raised in a society that struggled for generations to accept it in even small parts of his world. Shin Makoku, and the demon world in general for that matter, had been open to same sex relationships for as long as anyone could remember. Wolfram understood how unrealistic it was for people to assume Yuuri would be able to accustom himself to such ways in only a few years time. But that didn't stop Wolfram from denying it, from trying to change his mind about the matter, about their engagement.

Yuuri had made it clear: they were both boys. They would ever only be friends. Yet, Wolfram had always tried to hang onto a thread of hope. Wolfram clutched himself tighter. "Now who's the idiot?" He whispered.

thisisaline

"He~ikaaa! Where are~you?" Gunter sang as he frolicked (A/N: seems like something he would do) through the castle halls. He had a whole new lesson plan for His Majesty, one he had stayed up hours the night before to complete. The Japanese boy was the pinnacle of preciousness. If Gunter would be so brash as to say, Yuuri was his little black kitten of cute. It was up to his trusty advisor to, well, advise. Yes, advise him in every known fact of that he had to offer. Now, if he could just find His Majesty. He hadn't been in the courtyard where he said he would be playing. And he wasn't with Lord Weller. No one could tell him where Lord Wolfram and Greta had gone off to, so he couldn't check for his king with them either.

"HEIKAAAAAAAA!" Gunter wailed, flailing his arms in a flurry of flaky passion. He tore off down the hallway, the servants and guards shaking their heads in amusement.

Now that the Maou was approaching eighteen years of age, it was time for him to receive the education given to every coming of age Mazoku. The king would be briefed on the detailed lessons of courtship and, more importantly, sexual intimacy needed to seal one's marriage on the wedding night. Gunter pinched a nosebleed off before it could get out of hand. To think his beautiful King would have to commit such indecent acts with another! Oh the improper images it brought to mind! Efforts to fight the oncoming nosebleed were rapidly failing. Personally, Gunter thought his pure, sweet Majesty was far too young to be learning such things, but according to Conrad, like humans, half Mazokus were considered adults at the age of eighteen, rather than in their late eighties like full blooded demons.

So technically, Yuuri was perfectly ready (at least physically) for the knowledge of a man. Now that Gunter thought about it, Yuuri would actually be considered older than Wolfram after his birthday arrived. At least, in terms of manhood he'd be older. Gunter smirked as he slowed his pace. Wolfram wouldn't be happy about that. Just one more thing to set off Little Lord Bra—

Gunter quickly jumped back behind the corner he had just turned. Peering around into the adjoining hallway, he found himself looking at the little lord himself. Normally Gunter would continue on by him, muttering about "selfish Loafers" as he went, but something stopped him. Something seemed different today.

Wolfram was leaning against the wall with his arms wrapped around himself. A light blush was covering his cheeks and his eyes were downcast, making his eyelashes graze the smooth skin of his cheekbones. Even someone so devoted to His Majesty like Gunter was couldn't die that seeing the Bishie in such a state was…adorable. Seeing Wolfram looking so fragile and defenseless was uncommon for the advisor. Even he had to admit that the blond boy was cute. If His Majesty was a sweet, black kitten, then Wolfram was a little golden lion cub. Always acting so fierce for one so small, Wolfram thought he could hide the endearing qualities that slipped through his tough mask. It was the little things; the way he pouted when he wasn't quite angry enough to yell, the way his nose crinkled up when he yawned during a particularly tiring meeting with the ten aristocrats, those kinds of things. He could see why Gwendal had been so fond of watching an infant Wolfram with Conrad in their youth. Gunter himself had enjoyed having the small babe bounce merrily on his lap on a number of occasions.

Today, though, Wolfram's display of cute was being overshadowed with a very somber vibe. On closer inspection, Gunter could see sadness veiled behind emerald depths. He could see the way Wolfram's fingers clenched into the sleeves of shirt. It appeared he was having an inner battle with himself and he might have been losing.

Suddenly, Wolfram straightened up and began a stiff walk towards the end of the hallway. Gunter ducked back as the blond passed, thankfully going unnoticed. When Wolfram reached the two forked corridors at the end of the hall, he set off at a quicker pace down the left one.

'Now why would he be going down that way?' His Majesty's lesson forgotten, Gunter slinked down after him. Wolfram must have been quite distraught as he didn't sense the presence of the lavender-haired man. He continued on until he reached one of the guest sitting rooms. Gunter had to hide behind a large vase as Wolfram glanced over his shoulder back the way he came, and slipped into the room.

Curious, Gunter tiptoed up to the door and peeked past the door and into the room.

Wolfram was standing up next to the far wall of the sitting area. The fading sunlight streaking in through the windows shadowed his face and gave the scene a mysterious feel. Running his hand through his hair, he moved forward to a painting of one of the former Maous and gave the right corner three taps. Gunter watched in amazement as the portrait spun on a hinge to face upside down against the wall, revealing a large square hole behind the place it once rested. With relative ease, Wolfram climbed up into the hole and disappeared from view.

As soon as he was sure Wolfram was going to remerge relatively anytime soon, Gunter hurried over to the hole and peered inside. A long narrow stairs case is what greeted his vision. "This is amazing" he breathed, "This passage must have been made in preparation for any attacks on nobles caught off guard. My, what lovely craftsmanship! A portrait that swings up, not out, it's such a marvelous idea. Any enemy soldier would spend hours looking for passageways that opens outward like a door. No one would suspect the portrait to do this. Oh I must alert Gwendal of this right awa—wait, what am I saying?" Gunter shook his head, "I must first see what Wolfram is up to. Wandering a mysterious passageway is dangerous—I mean," He looked around quickly, hoping no one was around to hear his slip up of concern for the Wagamama puu, "I mean…he needs to be found and scolded for not informing Gwendal about his discovery."

Gunter had to hike a leg up to get into the hole. The portrait in this room wasn't as massive as most and was hung high enough off the ground that the hole was more of a window into the passage, rather than a doorway. 'Must be so that armored soldiers couldn't lift themselves up into it to follow the fleeing nobles' he thought as he grunted and huffed his way up into the hole. Standing up on the steps inside, he brushed off his clothes before turning to back to the opening. He was met with a stone wall. Looking down, the hole was at his feet. 'So, hard to get into for enemies, easy to run through for those inside. Whoever made this was crafty indeed. Now, to find Lord Bielefeld'.

thisisaline

He found the young lord at the very top of an exhausting flight of stairs. Gunter was lying on the stairs to properly spy unseen into the room the steps had taken him to. By the looks of it, Wolfram had led him to a small, dusty chamber, complete with only one window. There were no corners, the area wrapping around in circle. 'We're in one of the towers' Gunter realized. The room itself was filled with dusty canvases, and worn out boxes and knick-knacks and a single, musty bed. The last one to use this little hideaway must have been a royal trying to protect their useless "valuables".

A very forlorn Wolfram was curled up in the bed among the many overstuffed and dingy pillows. His eyes were fixated on the opposite side of the room, staring but not really taking anything in. He heaved a heavy sigh and mutter, "Stupid Yuuri" under his breath.

Gunter almost forgot he was supposed to be hiding when he heard Wolfram speaking ill of His Majesty. He waited until the urge to reprimand the prince had passed and returned to his surveillance of the Prince's hiding place. So it was His Highness that had the stubborn boy so upset. What could the wonderful Maou have possibly done to him?

Wolfram shifted on the bed, silencing Gunter's thoughts. Rummaging under a pillow, he pulled out a familiar piece of black cloth. 'His Majesty's shirt'. It was an old one, with a rip at the shoulder from one of the kings many moments of awkward clumsiness in the past. Gunter recalled giving said old clothes to the fire mazoku to burn every time one was ruined and replaced, stating that a cremation was the only honorable way to dispose of a monarch royal clothes, no matter how ragged they had become.

More shifting from the bed; Wolfram had pressed his face into the fabric. Though he still looked a bit sad, it seemed the shirt lifting his spirits slightly. Gunter couldn't help but think that the blond really did look like a lion cub at that moment, nuzzling the cloth and snuggling it on the bed.

The pretense of innocence was quickly lost. Wolfram buried his nose in the shirt and inhaled deeply. A desperate whine was heard and the blond wiggled his hips in agitation. His skin was beginning to flush.

Gunter paled considerably, even as the blood began to drip from his nose. It was time for him to take his leave. Seeing his friend's baby brother in such a state was improper and it was threatening to stain the child-like image Gunter had held of the boy till then. Pressing a hand to his nose, he quietly stood up and descended back down the stairs. The sound of the breathy whimpers escaping from the room behind him caused him to quicken his pace.

thisisaline

Gunter hurried along the halls, a silk handkerchief pressed to his nose and his face beet red. He had returned to his quest to find Heika, but his conscience was still giving him grief for what he witnessed moments earlier. Perhaps he shouldn't have followed after the young Mazoku after all.

No. He had done the right thing. Wolfram was depressed and it was someone's job to make sure the boy was alright. He would have tried to ask what the problem was that upset the boy so…but after seeing that…

Gunter knew he shouldn't have been surprised. Wolfram was not a little child anymore (he hadn't been one for quite some time). It was perfectly natural for him to have such needs and wants; it was just that Gunter hadn't wanted to see it firsthand. Now Wolfram would never seem innocent in his eyes again.

And what about His Majesty? If the cherub-faced Wolfram thought so indecently, did that mean Heika had such perverse thoughts as well? Gunter felt faint; going down this train of thought was doing his nosebleed no good at all.

Gunter was troubled. From what he had witnessed up in the tower, it was obvious what Wolfram desired from his king. The question was would he act upon it? Not only would the virginity of their beloved ruler be put in jeopardy, but both he and Wolfram's reputations would also suffer if word got out that they consummated their relationship before marriage…not that Gunter cared about Wolfram's reputation. Of course not, he was only concerned for His Majesty…right…no concern for the other what so ever.

Clearly the two could not continue sharing a room, let alone a bed. He would get Gwendal to separate them right away—but wait! He couldn't do that; he would have to tell him why they must be separated and that would mean telling him what he saw just now. Not only would Gunter be buried alive for spying on Gwendal's baby brother in such a…delicate state, but Gwendal was sure to go after His Majesty as well. The earth demon was well known to be quite protective of his siblings, especially one as cute as his youngest brother. If Wolfram was "growing up" so to speak, then Gwendal would no doubt make the same assumptions about Heika; that he too thought of such things and would thus conclude that Heika was a threat to his brother's purity. No, he couldn't go to Gwendal about this.

He had only one choice…to forget this day whole mess had ever happened. Instead, he would teach His Majesty the many consequences and dangers of physical intimacy. Not only would His Majesty receive the glorious lesson Gunter had created, but this way, even if Wolfram did act on his urges, His Majesty would be too wary of the results to consent. And he highly doubted that Wolfram would force him in to it; the very idea that Wolfram would overpower the incredible magnificence that is His Majesty was laughable.

"Gunter"

Why speaking the Magnificence himself.

"Your Majesty!" Gunter was all sparkles and rose petals as Yuuri approached him, Greta in tow. "I have been looking for you all afternoon! We can finally begin your courtship lessons!"

Yuuri sweatdropped (A/N: what anime fanfiction is complete without a sweatdrop insertion?). "Eh, that's…great Gunter. Really it is. But…I think we will be having dinner soon". As if right on cue, Doria passed them in the hall to remind them that dinner would be shortly before heading off to inform the others.

Had the day really passed that quickly already? Streams of tears ran down Gunter's face as he sobbed into his sleeve. "Oh forgive me Your Majesty! To have completely neglected my duties as your teacher until now, oh how dastardly of me!"

Greta giggled while Yuuri backed away laughing nervously. "I'm sure we can have a rain check on that lesson, Gunter. Don't feel bad." He motioned Greta to follow him towards the dining room when he stopped. "Hey Gunter, I don't supposed you've seen Wolfram, have you?"

The crying stopped immediately; Gunter having gone slightly pale. "W-why no Heika…I haven't. Perhaps he is already at dinner. Yes I'm sure that's it. Let's join him, shall we?" He placed his hands on Yuuri's shoulders and began to steer him and Greta forward.

As they walked along the hall, Gunter thought's turned to Wolfram again and the sad state he had been in. "I'm surprised you are looking for Lord Bielefeld, Heika. Normally you are either running from his wrath or already with him" he looked at Yuuri out of the corner of his eye, "Did you two get into a fight, by any chance?"

Yuuri sighed, "I'm not sure really. We were having a great time until Murata decided to open his big mouth."

"Hm, you're Majesty? What did he say?"

"He made some stupid comment about me trying to" Yuuri blushed, "to feel Wolfram up" he missed the stumble in Gunter's steps at that. "I mean, how could he say such a thing?" Yuuri continued, "I was just trying to get the thorns out of his uniform. We're friends for goodness sake. Just friends". He crossed his arms and nodded, seeming to think this explanation clear up the whole business. "Anyway, I set Murata straight so I don't understand what else could be bothering Wolfram."

"I see, Heika." 'Ah' thought Gunter, 'so that's what is vexing the boy'. It was understandable. To have Heika so vehemently deny wanting to touch him, when that was so clearly what Wolfram wanted to do himself, of course he would take offense. But Heika did have a right to decide who he would and would not have feelings for, so Wolfram really shouldn't take it out on His Majesty. Heika wasn't from their world. It was wrong for those of the same gender to love each other in that manner and, while Gunter couldn't see what was so taboo about such romances, it was natural for their king to go by what he had been raised to believe. "Well, you know how Lord Bielefeld gets sometimes. He was probably just having one of his moods. I'm sure he will get over it soon and all will be well." With that, Gunter ushered them all down to dinner.

thisisaline

Conrad glanced around him; to say the atmosphere was tense would be the understatement of the year. The dining room was unusually silent and not the typical comfortable silence that normally surrounded their meals. The maids had excused themselves to the kitchen under the pretense of preparing dessert, but Conrad suspected they were just as bothered by the uncomfortable vibe that the room was giving off and had opted to spend their time away from it until the feeling subsided.

It was hard to say who was the most out of sorts. Wolfram was picking at his food, not really eating anything so much as pushing around the plate, his expression unreadable. Yuuri was stealing glances at Wolfram every few seconds, so absorbed in whatever it was he was trying to see on the other that he kept missing his mouth with his fork. Then there was Gunter, who seemed dead set on not looking at either of them. Whenever the advisor did, he would flush deeply and his hands would shake enough that the food fell right off the fork. Murata, who had decided to stay and eat with them instead of going back to the temple, was beginning to unsettle everyone with his smile. He knew something, that was for sure, and Conrad would bet anything it had to do with why Yuuri and the rest were acting the way they were.

There were some who weren't particularly affected by the hanging shadow in the air. Anissina was casually sipping her wine as though dinner was like this every day and Greta was happily exclaiming to Yuuri that she had eaten all her vegetables and therefore could have dessert, as promised, while Yuuri gave her a distracted smile, his eyes still fixed on Wolfram. Gwendal was frowning, but then again, that was the norm for the dour man. There was no need to worry about Celi; the buxom mother of three had recently left for one of her Free Love cruises and wouldn't be back for two more weeks. She probably would have involved Anissina and the maids in a bizarre plot to fix whatever was wrong if she had been here anyway, and that was something Conrad would like to avoid. So it was for the best that she wasn't present.

Yuuri was now facing Wolfram directly, Conrad observed. It looked like his godson wanted to say something but hadn't figured out just what that something was yet. There was a wrinkle in his brow strangely reminiscent of Gwendal and one side of his mouth was turned down. He raised his hand several times and lowered it as though thinking better of the gesture. Wolfram finally caught the movement to the side of him and, with much reluctance, turned to face Yuuri. Now having the audience he apparently sought, Yuuri was about to speak when Wolfram stood up and announced he would be retiring early to bed. With a nod of acceptance from Gwendal, Wolfram bowed and left the room, petted Greta's head and wishing everyone good night.

Conrad sighed at the dejected and confused expression of Yuuri's face. It would seem that Yuuri apology (as he was now sure it was a fight that had transpired between the two) would have to wait until tomorrow.

thisisaline

Water; so much water. Gallons of it, churning and tossing to and fro. The light was getting dimmer and dimmer until it vanished from view completely. Such roaring noise. Too much. Stop. Make it stop. Which way was up, which was down? A hand, reaching, reaching out, grasping at nothing. That feeling again; was it sinking or floating? There's nothing now; darkness seeped in.

In the quiet of the Temple of the Great One's courtyard, the watered bubbled, glowed and pushed up a small limp form in the stone and ancient fountain…

And there you have it! Chapter one is up.

What do you all think? Love it, hate it? Tell me, I'm a curious person. It was long effort to get this done as my laptop had died on me (R.I.P. a moment of silence if you will) and not only did I have to wait to replace it, I had to wait for someone to take the motherboard and hard drive of my old laptop to burn all the files off it first. I've learned my lesson: always back things up to a disc. *nods as "the more you know" plays in the background*

Scarf of the royals. A little game I made up inspired by the game I saw the Native American children play in Little Big Man where they chase someone carrying a buffalo skin. I just took off with my own thoughts from there. I might go into an explanation of what the game is representing in later chapters.

You know, it occurred to me after the prologue was submitted that the guards at the temple are all girls. XP Well, let's assume that the male guards standing attention outside of the room Celi delivered in were her guards from the castle that brought her to the temple when she went into labor. Assumptions are the loopholes of the lazy! Yay lazy! Also, I can't remember much about Wolfram's father. Is he dead in the serious or just not around since he and Celi separated? Someone told me he died before Wolf was born but I question the accuracy. Help a writer out?

R and R please. I appreciate your time.