somniumquiesco (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} somniumquiesco) wrote,@ 2007-01-08 15:28:00 |
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WFTR: Wishful Haze: Chapter 1
Series Title: Whispers from the Rye
Part Title: Wishful Haze (chapter one)
Overall rating : NC-17
This part: Pg/PG-13
Warnings This Chapter: ****END OF SERIES SPOILERS****
Focus Pairing: Wolfram/Yuuri
Author:toshimalfoy or somniumquiesco the latter I made for fanfiction postings.
Beta:melusine07
Artists :pearljamz and andreanna
Summary: After the end of the series Yuuri and Wolfram are on drastically different pages when it comes to their relationship.
Prologue
Wolfram von Beliefeld was genuinely concerned that his face would stick this way. Since the initial shock and fighting he hadn’t been able to stop smiling. It was embarrassing but he couldn’t help it. Yuuri was back and not only were their knees occasionally touching during the bumpy carriage ride back to Blood Pledge Castle, but his fiancé had let him kiss him. Well, almost kiss him.
It had been a slingshot of emotions. One minute he was trying to convince Gwendal that they didn’t need a new Maou, and then the old one popped out of the fountain. Just like one of his fantasies, Yuuri was back with legs spread wide, black cotton sticking teasingly to the flesh beneath. The only thing that convinced him he wasn’t dreaming was that a good portion of his immediate family was standing close by; and as eager as he was to have waking dreams about ravishing his vanished fiancé in a fountain, having them with his brothers within a two foot radius was a bit unsettling.
There was noise around him, others talking, voices he recognized but all of them forgotten whenever Yuuri spoke in the voice that had enticed him for what seemed like forever but was really only a small snippet in the course of his life. Wolfram’s ears burned with the sound of that voice and he felt a new and resounding need to touch him, to make sure he was really there.
He stepped into the water. Then kneeled, resting his elbow on his knee for support and reached out a hand to cup Yuuri’s cheek. He was shaking slightly as he marveled at the brutal sensation of flesh against flesh after so long an absence. Neither of them spoke, but both sets of eyes were focused on something they had thought gone forever. Wolfram was impatient and demanded more, but when he moved forward to embrace Yuuri he slipped on the stone floor of the fountain , which sent him abruptly in to the arms of his fiancé, sending them both into the cold water. There was a moment, or maybe only half a moment, while they were both submerged, so close that his heart was echoing in the water that flooded his eardrums, when their lips touched.
Then air brought everything back into perspective and Wolfram was yelling at Yuuri and everything was as it used to be. There hadn’t been a year of ambiguity where he had been unable to move on, there had only been this, this anger and joy and life. None of it mattered now becauseYuuri was back, and they were touching. Sure, it was somewhat violent but there had been lingering touches, and for that moment it had been enough.
Now he wanted more.
Gunter had been talking continuously since they had gotten into the carriage, so much so that even Gwendal was looking annoyed. Yuuri, for his part, was doing a commendable job of paying attention to all the latest courtly politics that had happened in his absence and only yawned when it was absolutely necessary. The countries that had been united under the rule of Shin Makoku had been very interested in solidifying that unity amongst themselves since Yuuri ’s departure, and that meant lots of weddings. So many nations were newly allied together that fresh pools of royal blood were welling up right and left and every king and queen wanted their heir matched off before the well ran dry. Wolfram fidgeted in his seat and pushed his leg firmly against Yuuri’s.
Yuuri didn’t recoil.
Wolfram’s smile broadened for a moment before he let out a small noise of pain.
Gwendal eyed him from across the carriage, and Wolfram mumbled something about a cramp in his cheek.
Gwendal coughed disapprovingly and Wolfram stopped smiling, but still glowed internally, his entire body alive and focused through the single contact of knee against knee.
********
********
By the time they arrived at Blood Pledge Castle Yuuri’s bum was decidedly sore. He had no idea how the others could be used to riding in carriages, to him they seemed even more keen on jostling his internal organs into soup than riding horse back. It hadn ’t helped that Wolfram kept invading his personal space, pressing his side painfully against the wall of the carriage. He’d endured the attention as much as he could. The mild panic about what to do about his blond fiancé had kept his mind occupied for the last half of the trip. He felt a little guilty about ignoring Gunter, but he couldn’t see how he’d ever need to know the names of all the people who had gotten married in the past year.
An entire year.
Yuuri had been terrified it would be longer, that by some cruel twist of fate if he did manage a way back he would find Greta grown up and everyone else old or worse. He’d spent a long time thinking about how everything could go by without him. Days back home dragged on as he worried about how many hours passed in Shin Makoku for every minute he spent on Earth.
Since Wolfram had seemed so intent on smothering him on the way to the castle, it came as a shock when they arrived and he practically leapt out the door. The blond broke into a sprint before barreling through the crowd of people assembled to, he assumed, welcome him home. Stepping out of the carriage he gave Conrad a confused look.
“He probably went to find Greta, Your Majesty.” Conrad dismounted and came to stand next to him, acting as a sort of shield to keep Gunter at a distance while he babbled an overly zealous speech of gratitude on the king’s behalf to the eager crowd.
Before Yuuri could finish scanning the crowd for a sign of his daughter, she stumbled out of the mass of people. Seeing him, she broke into a run, hardly slowing down before she attached herself to his waist, almost knocking him over.
He embraced her with equal enthusiasm, pulling away briefly so he could kneel down and hug her properly. It felt so good to feel those little arms around him again.
“Thank goodness, Yuuri!” The girl cried into her shoulder, eyelashes brushing tears against his neck. “I missed you so much! Everyone’s missed you so much!”
“I’ve missed you too Greta. I’m sorry I’ve been away.” He rubbed her back soothingly. “Why the tears? It’s a time to be happy!”
She sniffled slightly, and her face contorted into an exaggerated pout “What a wimpy thing to say after disappearing for a year!” The pout vanished quickly and she smirked playfully up at him.
Yuuri laughed nervously in an attempt to mask vague horror. How much time had his daughter been spending with Wolfram?
********
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Anissina had just finished washing up, and was headed for the door when it crashed open, almost falling off its hinges.
“Greta!” Wolfram half shouted half panted. Sweat was breaking out in tiny beads along his forehead and his chest heaved in a desperate attempt for air.
“Did you really find it necessary to run all the way up here?”
Wolfram looked at her as if she had said something unnecessary and vaguely irritating. Men. They really did have no patience.
“I just sent her down to see Yuuri. You must have just missed—“
Wolfram turned and bolted back the way he came. She sighed and walked to the window. As she suspected, Greta had already found her father and was gesturing almost as enthusiastically as Gunter, who seemed to be addressing the crowd. Pulling up a chair, she decided to watch for a while before making her entrance.
********
********
“—and riding. Ohh Yuuri you have to watch Wolfram and me play with swords. It’s so much fun!”
“Swords?” So much had changed while he was away. Yuuri wondered if he’d ever be able to make up for all the time he’d lost.
Eventually Gunter’s speech ended and Yuuri followed Conrad and the others up the main stairway, Greta clinging to his hand all the while. The castle didn’t seem to have changed at all. It was still unnervingly huge and reminded him of a European period film. Still, something about it felt like home. He breathed deeply, enjoying the damp smell of earth and stone that was pleasantly masked with spice and flowers. Even after spending so much time inside the walls he still passed doors and passages he couldn ’t remember ever being down. Most of them probably led to servant quarters or storage rooms, but he was still curious to see all of it. Maybe Conrad would agree to give him a full tour once Gwendal was through with him.
By the time they made it into Gwendal’s office, Yuuri was short of breath. He’d forgotten how many stairs there were. Grateful for the rest, he sat down in front of the dark wooden table and pulled Greta into his lap. She snuggled back into him and started playing with his hands, comparing them to the size of her own by pressing her left palm against his right hand. He indulged her silently and looked around.
Gwendal stood in front of his desk, menacing as ever, while Gunter started arranging huge stacks of papers. Yuuri swallowed.
It was as he feared- a long lecture planned out to brief him, this time on military happenings. He frowned. He’d just gotten back; the last thing he wanted to do was spend his first day cooped up in Gwendal’s office. There was so much to do, and so much space to do it in. That was one of his favorite things about Shin Makoku. There seemed to be room to do almost anything, unlike Japan where everything seemed crowded. Yuuri gave Conrad a pleading look but it was no use. His friend just shook his head and looked at Gwendal, who cleared his throat.
“After so long an absence I’m sure Your Majesty is aware that there have been many changes in alliance from the surrounding nations. Luckily, most of them have been in the favor of Shin Makoku—"
Yuuri stopped listening and shifted in his chair. When he started paying attention again a few minutes later, Gwendal had stopped talking and was glowering in his general direction. Pulling Greta closer for protection, he opened his mouth to apologize when he heard footsteps behind him. Thank goodness. He wasn’t the cause for Gwendal’s displeasure after all. He turned to see Wolfram enter the room while running a hand through his hair. His cheeks were flushed and Yuuri wondered if he’d caught a cold jumping into the fountain.
“Wolfram!” Greta squealed in delight, twisting in Yuuri's lap to look at her other father. “It’s Yuuri!”
“Yes, it’s Yuuri.” Wolfram smiled and walked toward them. “I’m glad you found him. I haven’t had such luck finding people lately. You see, I’ve been looking everywhere for a cute little girl who wasn’t on time to meet her fathers by the carriage.”
Yuuri stiffened and looked at Greta who blushed and murmured an apology. He hated the way the other boy said his name. It made his gut twist.
Wolfram made his way across the room and stood directly behind him. Yuuri felt the hair on his neck stand up as the other boy leaned over his shoulder to ruffle Greta’s hair. Wolfram smelled like he always did before bed, like soap or something. It was eerily feminine.Yuuri moved his head away.
“Look!” Greta grabbed his hand and pushed it against hers, just the way it had been a few minutes earlier.
Wolfram chuckled right by his ear and leaned closer. The tips of his hair were damp, probably from when he had come into the fountain to berate him. “Hnn? What a difference! You’ve grown. Hasn’t she, Yuuri?”
Yuuri was startled. “Oh!...” He didn’t see that much of a difference. Greta was Greta. She was still smaller than him, still cute.
“Ne, Yuuri?” It was whispered so close that he could feel Wolfram’s breath on his ear.
“Yes!” he squeaked.
Greta squirmed in delight and grabbed his right hand by the wrist, pulling it to her chest to hug it. She did the same to Wolfram’s left hand, which had moved to rest on her shoulder. “It’s so great! I have both Papas!” She giggled.
“So great.” Wolfram mirrored into Yuuri’s shoulder, burying his head into his neck. Before he could escape, Wolfram’s other arm came around to hug him and Greta from behind.
Yuuri laughed nervously, grateful for the back of the chair, which stopped just below his shoulder blades.
“Hey Wolfram, can we go play with Yuuri now?”
“Sorry Greta, Gwendal has important things to tell Yuuri, so we’ll have to save that for tomorrow. That is, of course, unless we can persuade big brother.”
The two of them then let out an exaggerated ‘Pleeeeeeease’.
Gwendal’s eyebrow was twitching mercilessly and Gunter had turned a violent pink. From his right he could have sworn he heard Conrad stifle a laugh.
Despite the awkwardness of the situation, Yuuri wasn’t one to ignore salvation when it came to him, so he joined the pitiful display.
“Go. Just go,” Gwendal sighed.
Yuuri found himself being dragged out of the room before Gwendal could have a chance to change his mind.
********
********
Gwendal was still truly unnerved. There had been so much cute.
Gunter and Conrad had already left, leaving him in peace to brood over the small pile of maps on his desk. Gunter had gone to oversee the preparation of His Majesty's welcome-home feast and Conrad was probably off watching the children. He leaned back, plush leather of his chair squeaking slightly with the movement, and let his eyes skim over a new field report that had just come in that morning by pigeon.
Most of the field reports were hideously boring of late. As much as he still pressed for tight discipline within the ranks and for troops to be stationed at key points within the region, there really wasn’t much realistic threat. For the first time in centuries , nearly the entire continent was united under one rule. It was true that most of the larger nations allied with Shin Makoku still chose to remain independent, but many of the smaller or less powerful ones had begun to swear away sovereignty to Shin Makoku. And to think, all of this had been brought about by such a young and idealistic king.
The only thing of note within the report was the increasing frequency of deserters. Without the pressure of impending war it was easy for the young mazoku to decide to run off and settle down with an amicable farm girl or tavern boy. Most were of lower rank and it made little difference in the grand scheme of things, but a few had been officers. One was even a corporal who was once in Wolfram’s private guard. It didn’t cause him too much stress though; Gwendal had always disliked that man anyway. Though it was a problem, the desertions were hardly a pandemic and Gwendal saw little need for action just yet.
Gwendal had to fight off a smile as his thoughts wandered back to his youngest brother. He had been much too depressed lately and it was a joy to see him happy. Wolfram was much too young to act so jaded.Gwendal had always harbored high hopes for Wolfram’s happiness. He had managed to keep the boy out of the war and he hoped that it was as close to an actual battle as he would ever have to be. Still, Wolfram had taken pleasure in learning the gentlemanly arts and Gwendal hadn’t denied him an increase in rank when he deserved it. Although some nepotism was unavoidable, he was proud of his brother’s skills and had confidence that he could be as brilliant with a sword as Conrad if he could ever get his emotions in check.
Despite his still obvious depression, Wolfram had been doing better about hiding his hurt in the more recent months. He’d also been willingly spending time with Anissina, which did not sit well with Gwendal for a multitude of reasons.
Gwendal reminded himself, not for the first time, to talk to Anissina about Wolfram. The guilt of not noticing his…condition a year ago still weighed heavily on his shoulders, and neither Conrad nor himself had managed to successfully broach the subject even after so much time. Perhaps she would be able to check up on him.
Gwendal had realized years too late that he had failed Wolfram as a brother. Wolfram had looked to him when he had lost faith in Conrad. At the time,he had seen Wolfram as merely a blond bundle toddling about his knees with another man’s blood in his veins, and he had been too busy to deal with the situation properly. Also, too young perhaps to understand its significance. Wolfram was a lonely child, and Gwendalcould have done more to prevent it. At the time, he had been resentful of the additional responsibility placed on him. He was distracted by his passion to succeed within the military and didn’t feel like he should have to take on the responsibilities of a parent. His mother, despite her best efforts, wasn’t able to keep track of her youngest and he didn’t see it as his job to pick up the slack. Sometimes he wished he had.
Things probably would have worked out better if Wolfram’s uncle wasn’t so fanatical about pure bloodlines. It was that old family prejudice, the only thing he’d actually inherited from that side of the family, in addition to the pain shown by their mother when Conrad’s father passed away that drove Wolfram from the brother who had actually wanted to play a more fatherly role. It had been nice to watch Wolfram mend his relationship with Conrad since Yuuri had come to their world, but Gwendal still missed the seemingly ever -present shadow his youngest brother used to be. Admittedly, Conrad was better at showing affection, so it was easy to see why Wolfram leaned toward him.
Gwendal had never been good at coddling.
********
********
Several hours later, Wolfram found himself in a hallway trying desperately not to frolic.
He had stopped in an empty corridor on his way to the treasury to think, and had ended up leaning against a wall, covering his mouth with his hands and trying not to laugh manically.Yuuri was being amazingly receptive of his advances . It was almost too much, too good to be true. But it was! He had gotten to hug him at least twice more since they left Gwendal’s office to entertain Greta and there had been no resistance. No screaming, no fighting. Wolfram made a small noise of delight just thinking about it and slid down the wall, letting his toes support most of his weight. His cheeks were red with blush and his fingers criss-crossed over his mouth. Thinking of Yuuri , he closed his eyes and let his lips press gently against the inside of his palm.
Feeling a bit silly, he removed his hands and crossed his arms in front of his chest, eyes focused on the elaborate tile beneath his feet. One of the tiles was chipped, revealing a dark splotch of the cement. Strange all the things you never notice.
He had just put Greta to bed. The poor girl had fallen asleep on the grass after several hours of horseplay. She was so happy now that Yuuri was back. A part of him was jealous that she adored Yuuri so much more than himself, but he couldn’t really blame her. Yuuri was , well… Yuuri.
His wimp.
Now Wolfram was on his way to do something potentially disastrous, but he wasn’t too concerned. Even if Yuuri was pathetically unfamiliar with their customs, this one should be simple enough for him to wrap his mind around.
Having calmed himself enough to finish his journey, Wolfram stood and hurried on his way, proud that the frolicking was kept to the bare minimum.
********
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Yuuri sighed and stirred his soup.
It was the third course of soup so far this evening and he wondered how long dinner was going to last. The broth was too sweet for his liking so he just pushed it around. That was one of the biggest problems with soup. No matter how much you push it around it never looks like there’s any less of it.
The round table they were seated at was lavishly decorated with a floral centerpiece so high he could hardly see Gwendal and Gunter over it. Conrad sat to his left and the seat to his right was suspiciously empty.
After such a long day, sleep was looking better by the minute. First the excitement of returning to Shin Makoku, then the carriage ride back, followed by lectures upon lectures. Not to mention the late afternoon spent watching Greta ride. That had actually been the most relaxing part of the day, or had been until Wolfram decided Yuuri no longer needed any personal space.
Yuuri found himself surprised by his fiancé’s absence for the second time that day. It struck a chord of terror within him when he thought of the sorts of things Wolfram might be off planning for them.
He had made a terrible mistake.
Somehow, in not wanting to further disappoint Wolfram, Yuuri had stopped protesting his advances. In hindsight this had been a stupid thing to do, because now he couldn’t seem to get any space for himself. It was awkward and depressing, but since he had started he had no idea where to draw the line. Now that he had stopped pushing Wolfram away when he made him uncomfortable, it hardly seemed fair to push him away later for the things that made him really really uncomfortable. And despite his own discomfort, he didn’t think he could stand it if he made Wolfram sad.
Ever since he realized how blind he had been about Wolfram’s Possession, the gnawing guilt deep in his stomach had been relentless. What stung the most was his feeling that if the situation had been reversed, his friend would have noticed immediately. Yuuri had failed Wolfram as a friend. Almost gotten him killed. In a way, he had even been dead for a while.
Besides the guilt about Wolfram, he’d also made a promise to Conrad. If a name could mean a promise.
Brother.
He had meant it then, but over time the urgency had abated and he wondered if he had the strength to really do it. To do what would make Wolfram happy. To pay back his debt.
The more Yuuri thought about the Wolfram paradox, the more it seemed like the only reasonable thing for him to do. Put his own desires aside and do what was right for those around him. He was sure neither Gwendal nor Conrad would forgive him if he ruined their little brother’s happiness, even if it was only for so long as it took for Wolfram to find someone better than himself. Someone who could actually return his feelings. But if he tried to use that as an excuse to get rid of his engagement to Wolfram, then Wolfram would probably just say it wasn’t Yuuri ’s choice to make for him. Not to mention he’d end up burnt to a crisp. And even if he was allowed to have his pick of the gorgeous noble women around him, he wasn’t sure if he would be able to enjoy it. Wolfram was still his friend and Yuuri would feel unbearably guilty about being engaged to anyone else. What if Wolfram was so upset that he left? No. Nothing other than this would do. He would bear it silently. For the kingdom.
After all, he was supposed to be a king now, right? And not just any king, but the king that had saved this world from destruction at the hands of the greatest figure in their history. Practically a god. He had defeated a god and that required some sort of balance in karma.
Therefore, for the happiness of those around him, he would have to suffer.
Though he told himself this, acting so selflessly was proving very difficult. A part of Yuuri just wanted to be a regular kid again. But he had been cursed with a great destiny, so that was no longer a luxury he could afford, despite his access to large piles of treasure.
A servant came to take away his soup and replace it with a salad, if you could call it that. It just looked like a piece of lettuce with some decorative fruit and a thick drizzling of sauce.Yuuri fidgeted in his seat and pouted at Conrad who chuckled at him.
“You’ll have to forgive the castle’s enthusiasm at your return, Majesty.”
“It’s not the enthusiasm! But really, how much food can we eat? I’m already getting full and we’ve only…”
Gwendal coughed.
“Ohh well, I guess it can’t be helped.” Yuuri slouched in defeat. “And stop calling me ‘Your Majesty’, Conrad.”
“My apologies.”
Yuuri rubbed his head in frustration. This dinner was so tedious and there was no escape in sight.
“Your Majesty!” Gunter gushed, happy to have thought of something to explain. “The dishes of the welcome-home feast have great symbolism as well as exquisite taste—“
Yuuri tried not to groan audibly in despair.
“—bread that is made with only the finest grain, and then kept in a bottle of red wine to symbolize the heart of the nation. The bosom of the very land that is able to give the people peace so that they can eat and live—“
Gunter was talking so quickly that Yuuri wondered if he ever breathed.
“—and not to mention the second soup that is hardly second in taste and spirit made with the three great friends of the waters. The crayfish symbolizes the rivers that carry trade, the lobster the ocean that carries the delicacies of the sea, and the slippery eel the most illusive in its beauty—“
Unfortunately, Gunter must have managed to breathe at some point because it kept going for what seemed like ages.
********
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To say the kitchens were in an uproar would have been a gross understatement. Hanz, the head chef, had practically shoved Wolfram into the stove while he was trying to catch a pheasant, which wasn’t quite as dead as previously thought, and had terrified one of the maids so much in the process that she fainted. Wolfram hadn’t sought revenge so much as refuge.
After searching through the dust of one of the treasure rooms for an undignified period of time, he had finally found all the spices he needed, along with the two traditional goblets, and made his way to the kitchens. He hadn’t expected to have to resort to colorful threats of physical violence to procure his current position in front of the oldest stove in the castle. True, he probably could have heated the small crock of the country’s finest wine with his own mazoku somewhere less traumatizing, but given the heightened state of his emotions he didn’t trust himself not to set the castle on fire.
It was just so exciting, this huge bubble of emotions trapped beneath his skin that was trying to burst out at all angles. He had spent so much time brooding about Yuuri and now everything was better than he’d ever really let himself fantasize. Sure, he had convinced himself that he was actually starting to move on, but now that Yuuri was back all his repressed desires were drowning him. His mind was completely clouded by this haze of wishful thinking that was so much more delicious than anything he had felt in a painful amount of time.
Wolfram measured out all the spices and lined them up so he could add them to the wine in the proper order and stared at the pot, willing it to boil.
There was a sense of urgency to his motions because the little voice in the back of his mind that was telling him to slow down and think about what he was doing was getting louder by the minute. Wolfram only glared at the wine and wished time would move faster so he could prove the voice wrong.
“You’re being stupid.”
Wolfram wondered why the voice in his head was sounding more and more like Anissina everyday.
“You’re being stupid.”
He turned. “Do you ever mind your own business? Go build something.” Wolfram waved his hand dismissively at her to emphasize his point.
Anissina, who was leaning against a table covered with feathers, raised an eyebrow at him. “Build something?” She brought her hand to her chin thoughtfully. “What an idea. Why don’t I make something to keep you from being so stupid? I think I’ll call it ‘What-are-you-thinking-he-hasn’t-changed-a
Wolfram scoffed and turned away. The wine had started to boil, so he added the first two ingredients, watching intently as they dissolved on contact with the hot surface. He frowned when he felt Anissina lean over him to peer at the contents of the small crock. “Are you still here?”
“No. I’m in my Lab.” She patted him on the shoulder, “Today just isn’t one of your smart days, is it?”
“Anissina---!” He snapped before closing his eyes to calm himself. “You haven’t seen him today. He has changed, and this is the right thing for me to be doing. Now could you please leave?
“Of course he has.” She pouted at him, speaking as if Wolfram was a toddler. “And Gwendal has wrinkles because he smiles so much.”
Wolfram scoffed. What an annoying woman. He added a few more ingredients to the pot and stirred it counterclockwise. “Anissina, dear, did you ever think that even if this was a stupid decision that half the castle probably already knows I’m planning on it and to back out now would be a sign of irreparable weakness of my own character?”
“Wolfram, darling, did you ever think that I just don’t want you to turn into a bitter old maid like me?”
He could feel her wink at him before he felt her arms wrap around him from behind in brief hug. “Anissina…”
She kissed the top of his head. “Fine, I won’t bother you any more today. Just don’t let that big heart of yours cloud your mind.” She bonked him on the head lightly, “I know it’s in there somewhere…”
Smirking, he added another ingredient. “Well, I’m glad you’ve come to your senses. I’ll be sure NOT to tell you all the details of my delicious evening with Yuuri.”
Behind him, Anissina rolled her eyes. “I’m sure…”
Wolfram smiled slightly at their exchange. Even though he thought Anissina was completely insane, Wolfram had to admit a certain fondness for the old maid. Besides being useful with Greta, she was the only one in the castle that didn’t look at him with a familiar mixture of pity and guilt. Anissina looked at him the same way she had before the ‘incident’. ‘Selfish Loafer’ was miles better than ‘Lovesick Fool Who Got Possessed Under My Watch’ in his book. Conrad couldn’t even say his name without a demeaning tremor of emotion. And Gwendal was hardly any better, always watching him out of the corner of his eye and not even having the decency to allow Wolfram to drown himself in military campaigns. On top of it all, Mother had left on another love cruise two weeks after Yuuri left and still hadn’t returned.
The most irritating aspect of it was that Wolfram was pretty much over the whole ordeal. Losing Yuuri was much more painful than the nightmares, possession, blackouts and odd memories. Memories that made him glad that the Great Sage decided to stay behind in the Shrine. The relationship between Shinou and the Great Sage had been… interesting, to say the least and Wolfram wasn’t excited about having to look him in the eyes with a straight face any time soon.
“Yuuri has changed.” Wolfram said aloud, gripping the wooden spoon he had been using to stir the spiced wine until his knuckles whitened.
Anissina sighed. “Yes, he’s changed. It’s been a year here, which means he could have spent two days on Earth fretting over ‘killing’ you, or two months learning how to move on. Something some people take an obnoxious time to do, but people like his majesty—“
“Enough!” He didn’t need Anissina vocalizing his doubts. It had to be bad luck. “As much as I accept your concern--”
“You have an awful habit of interrupting people.”
Wolfram nearly lit the spoon on fire. “OUT!”
The vile woman uttered something under her breath before she made her exit, weaving through the confusion of the kitchen.
He was a bit surprised she had left so easily, but was happy none the less. The wine mixture was nearly finished, so he took it off the stove and placed it on a nearby counter, brushing away some chopped vegetables to make room. A knife was lying near by and Wolfram picked it up and peered at it scrupulously before touching the blade with his left hand and setting it aflame for half a second. Satisfied that anything particularly nasty must have been killed, he made a small incision on his index finger and squeezed two drops of blood into the crock. Mostly unfazed by the slight pain, he couldn’t help but put the wounded finger into his mouth as he stared down into the wine and wondered if he was making a mistake.
Not that changing his plans was actually an option, especially now since Anissina had told him he was being stupid. If he didn’t do it she would think she’d won and it would be impossible to be anywhere near her for at least a month. Of course, he wasn’t planning on spending time with anyone besides Yuuri and Greta for at least twice that long. The old maid aside, he had seen other maids in here, which meant that all the help that wasn’t too busy cooking knew what he was up to. He wouldn’t be surprised if there was a betting pool started.
And Yuuri had been acting so… deliciously unlike his childish self, that success was inevitable. Wolfram's eyes unfocused and the corners of his lips twitched upwards slightly. The eagerness welled up inside him all over again and he abandoned his mixture to wash out the two goblets he had procured from the treasury. They hadn ’t been used in centuries and once the dust was removed he was surprised to discover they were clear. The translucent surface made them look more delicate and Wolfram realized he should probably practice carrying around things less irreplaceable before his debut.At about the same time, he realized that he probably smelled like the kitchens and gods knew what else from all the dusty things he had just crawled around in, and that he would probably have to bathe for a third time today. He had taken a ‘bath’ this morning in the fountain and then again after he had gotten sweaty running around the castle looking for Greta.
With Yuuri, any little detail could make the difference, so he had to make sure he was as desirable as possible.
********
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“The thirty eighth course. Ahh—” There were tears in Gunter’s eyes, sparkling with the joy of his own words. “The Spanferkel. The very life of innocence that is the life of our king. The suckling pig yanked from its mother’s arms to show the willingness of the people to give away everything for the well being of their sovereign.”
Yuuri felt like he was going to be sick. The servants had come and gone fourteen more times, placing strange things in front of him that he only managed a bite from out of politeness. Gunter still rambled on and Yuuri felt like it would never end. That he would die of dinner.
He looked at Conrad, who was smiling slightly at him. Yuuri made a desperate face and Conrad only chuckled. It was ridiculous. Everyone was against him. Where the hell was Wolfram! He would have made some sort of distraction to end all this by now.
Yuuri had actually been considering killing himself with the spork, or at least creating a constructive flesh wound, when it finally ended.
“And finally the forty-second, the final dish that is the culmination of culminations: cherry tarts sprinkled with almonds. The tart flavor is representative of the bitter sensation of leaving the meal while the sweet cherry aftertaste bears testimony of the joy for hours.”
Gunter had made an impressive break for the finish, saying the last few dishes in a single breath. His labored breathing squeaked with enthusiasm as he regained his composure.
“Now that His Majesty is fully aware of the implications of the meal…” Gwendal growled, impatience evident in every wrinkle of his forehead, “might we move along to matters of more national importance?”
Yuuri perked up. Anything was better than listening to Gunter’s needlessly elaborate description of food.
Unfortunately it wasn’t all that much more interesting, mostly just a list of all the nations that had somehow become a part of Shin Makoku. A lot of this seemed strange as some of the new ‘territory’ didn’t even border the central nation.
It was somewhat entertaining to hear that one nation was impossibly difficult to talk to, refusing even to send an ambassador.Gwendal hadn’t seemed too worried about it since the country was rather small, or at least it sounded small. Shou Shimeron. If he remembered correctly it was somewhere near Caloria. Yuuri wondered what it was like. Maybe he could convince everyone that they needed to take a closer look, they could even stop for a while and visit Flurin. He could go on an adventure just like the old days.
Dinner was more than half way over when Wolfram finally made an entrance.
Yuuri looked happily at him, almost standing. Finally someone else to talk to! His apparent joy seemed to bother Wolfram, because he stopped and reddened for a moment before coming further into the private dining room. It was then that Yuuri noticed that Wolfram looked like a waiter; or at least he was carrying a tray with two glasses perched upon it with seemingly practiced grace.
Before he could ask about it, Gwendal coughed in displeasure, which distracted his attention. Gunter was completely red, covering his face with his cloth napkin and Conrad looked hopefully amused. When Yuuri turned back he was surprised to see Wolfram standing directly in front of him.
Looking up, he realized with a sense of dread that Wolfram was wearing his peacefully hopeful face. Terrifying, in that it was almost always followed with disappointment, rage and a bit of a singe to his own person.Yuuri swallowed loudly and Wolfram smiled reassuringly down at him.
“Yuuri…” Wolfram practically purred, placing the goblet in his hand. The glass stem felt flimsy in his grasp and he tried desperately not to break it.Yuuri had a distinct inkling that that would be a very bad thing to do.
Yuuri glanced down at the crimson liquid that swirled in his glass. It was warm and smelled like spice and something that made him feel flush. He supposed it was a type of wine and was momentarily happy.Gwendal and the others had never let him drink alcohol at dinner before- maybe they realized he was growing up. After all, he was sixteen now. “Great! I can see at least one person thinks I’ve grown up enough to enjoy some of the benefits of being a king.”
Gunter sputtered loudly.
“Yuuri…” Wolfram spoke, barely above a whisper. The blond was completely focused on him and seemed completely unaware of the noises the table's other occupants were making. Wolfram tilted his glass towards him.
Yuuri mirrored the gesture and congratulated himself. This was just a toast. It was easy, just Wolfram’s overly dramatic way of welcoming him home. For once he wasn ’t going to mess up. He beamed and moved to take a sip, when Wolfram suddenly dumped the contents of his glass over his head. Little crimson rivulets streamed down Wolfram’s face and his previously white cravat now looked blooded.
Yuuri panicked.
“Wolfram! What on earth?” He stood up and tried to find a napkin. The glass was still in his hands so in his rush he tried to hand it to Conrad. Surprisingly, Conrad sprung away from the glass like it was a snake. Annoyed, Yuuri set the glass on the table and used the napkin that had been in his lap to dab at Wolfram’s cheeks. Oddly, Wolfram just stood there, making no move clean himself off. “Are you crazy? What are you doing, you’ve got this stuff all over you now.”
Wolfram’s eyes closed and his jaw tensed and Yuuri started to wonder if he’d done something wrong. “Wolfram…”
After a few terrifying seconds, during which Yuuri prepared himself to run for his life, Wolfram opened his eyes and smiled at him. Or his mouth did, his eyes, however, seemed sad. It was just the sort of look Yuuri had worked so hard all day to avoid. “I’m sorry…”
“It’s fine. I’ll see you tonight. I have to go get cleaned up.” Turning on his heel Wolfram all but ran out the door, slamming it shut in his wake.
Yuuri stared at the spot where Wolfram used to be. “Conrad?”
Conrad stood and put a hand on his shoulder from behind. “It’s alright, just another custom. Wolfram should know you didn’t do anything on purpose.”
The overly comforting words only made him feel worse. “But what did I do?”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s his own fault for trying something so rash.” Gwendal muttered, taking a large sip from his glass.
Yuuri could hardly believe it. He must have done something wrong because he didn’t know a custom and now no one would even tell him what custom that he didn’t know about had caused such trouble. “But…”, he whined, then got an idea. “Gunter, how am I supposed to make a good king if I don’t know all the customs of my kingdom?”
“Ohhh your majesty this is all my fault! I should have instructed you sooner, I am a poor servant to the throne, I should be defenestrated at once, I have failed you—“
“Gunter, calm down. It’s not your fault!” What a commotion. Yuuri was starting to get a headache. “Just… tell me what just happened.”
Gunter perked up immediately, “You are too kind your majesty, only the greatest of—“
“Gunter!”
“The tradition Sir Beliefeld implemented was created by the third Maou’s bride-to-be and has only been used one other time before this evening. The lady, after being proposed to by his majesty the third Maou, found herself still unwed after waiting patiently for several months. Now, his majesty was concerned since the lady was still very young and wanted to wait until she was older to be wed. In her attempt to show him that she was mature enough to be his bride she started this custom, which is now the only dignified way for the Maou’s… intended… to suggest the wedding take place as soon as possible.
“The wine, which is blended with several spices, is the purest quality, symbolizing the purity of the persons… affection. The spices are specific to the person, so without knowing which ones Sir Beliefeld added I regretfully cannot tell you the specific implications. Also, the more impatient party would add some of their blood to the mixture to make it more personal.”
Yuuri blanched and looked at the goblet, glad he didn’t drink any of Wolfram’s blood.
“The pouring of the wine onto themselves symbolizes the impatience of the individual to show their affection to the person they are betrothed to. If the person who has been given the wine pours it onto himself also, then the couple elopes, both having shown their desire to be wed as soon as possible. If the recipient drinks the wine, he shows that while he still cares for the person who has given it, he wishes to be wed later.”
Why were all the customs in Shin Makoku so complicated? Not to mention needlessly convoluted. “Okay, so I didn’t drink it, does that mean I’ve broken the engagement?” He tried to keep the hope from leaking into his voice. Yes, he didn’t want to disappoint Wolfram, but maybe this was a way to sneak out of the engagement without upsetting Wolfram too much. After all, he hadn’t known what he was doing when he’d gotten engaged to him in the first place, wasn’t it fitting that he become un-engaged without knowing what he was doing?
“Not drinking the wine is a symbol of indecision, but your majesty didn’t only not drink the wine.”
Yuuri sighed and collapsed into his chair. “What else could I have possibly done?”
Gunter colored slightly and glanced at Conrad.
Following his gaze Yuuri looked at Conrad who seemed apologetic.
“Handing the wine to another person symbolizes--” Gunter’s voice squeaked, “that the reason for the delay in the wedding is an affair with--” Gunter trailed off, or hyperventilated, it was so hard to tell the difference.
“With Conrad! That’s ridiculous!”
“Thankfully” Gwendal broke in, “Sir Weller knew better than to take the glass.”
“Which means…”
“Which means, that the implication of an affair was denied.” Gwendal growled.
Yuuri could feel the waves of relief wash over him. “So what exactly does the custom say I did?”
Gunter seemed to have regained his ability to speak, “According to the custom created by the wife of the third Maou your majesty is indecisive about marrying Sir Belefield and has a… wandering eye…But of course everyone knows that your majesty was unaware of the custom and Sir Beliefeld's actions were completely inappropriate.”
Well, he didn’t seem to have implied anything that Wolfram didn’t already suspect of him. He groaned, “Why is everything so complicated already!” and buried his face in his arms.
“Don’t worry your majesty, I’m sure everything will be back to normal by morning,” Conrad tried to reassure him, but it was no use.
All he wanted now was to go back to his room to sleep, but he knew that Wolfram would probably be there waiting for him. Instead of being able to roll into the big bed and fall asleep, he would have to argue with Wolfram and then spend the night being kicked around. As much as he had hated his welcome home feast,Yuuri couldn’t help but wish there were more than forty -two courses.
*****
On to: Wishful Haze Chapter 2 Part 1
Series Title: Whispers from the Rye
Part Title: Wishful Haze (chapter one)
Overall rating : NC-17
This part: Pg/PG-13
Warnings This Chapter: ****END OF SERIES SPOILERS****
Focus Pairing: Wolfram/Yuuri
Author:
toshimalfoy or somniumquiesco the latter I made for fanfiction postings. Beta:
melusine07Artists :
pearljamz and andreannaSummary: After the end of the series Yuuri and Wolfram are on drastically different pages when it comes to their relationship.
Prologue
Wolfram von Beliefeld was genuinely concerned that his face would stick this way. Since the initial shock and fighting he hadn’t been able to stop smiling. It was embarrassing but he couldn’t help it. Yuuri was back and not only were their knees occasionally touching during the bumpy carriage ride back to Blood Pledge Castle, but his fiancé had let him kiss him. Well, almost kiss him.
It had been a slingshot of emotions. One minute he was trying to convince Gwendal that they didn’t need a new Maou, and then the old one popped out of the fountain. Just like one of his fantasies, Yuuri was back with legs spread wide, black cotton sticking teasingly to the flesh beneath. The only thing that convinced him he wasn’t dreaming was that a good portion of his immediate family was standing close by; and as eager as he was to have waking dreams about ravishing his vanished fiancé in a fountain, having them with his brothers within a two foot radius was a bit unsettling.
There was noise around him, others talking, voices he recognized but all of them forgotten whenever Yuuri spoke in the voice that had enticed him for what seemed like forever but was really only a small snippet in the course of his life. Wolfram’s ears burned with the sound of that voice and he felt a new and resounding need to touch him, to make sure he was really there.
He stepped into the water. Then kneeled, resting his elbow on his knee for support and reached out a hand to cup Yuuri’s cheek. He was shaking slightly as he marveled at the brutal sensation of flesh against flesh after so long an absence. Neither of them spoke, but both sets of eyes were focused on something they had thought gone forever. Wolfram was impatient and demanded more, but when he moved forward to embrace Yuuri he slipped on the stone floor of the fountain , which sent him abruptly in to the arms of his fiancé, sending them both into the cold water. There was a moment, or maybe only half a moment, while they were both submerged, so close that his heart was echoing in the water that flooded his eardrums, when their lips touched.
Then air brought everything back into perspective and Wolfram was yelling at Yuuri and everything was as it used to be. There hadn’t been a year of ambiguity where he had been unable to move on, there had only been this, this anger and joy and life. None of it mattered now becauseYuuri was back, and they were touching. Sure, it was somewhat violent but there had been lingering touches, and for that moment it had been enough.
Now he wanted more.
Gunter had been talking continuously since they had gotten into the carriage, so much so that even Gwendal was looking annoyed. Yuuri, for his part, was doing a commendable job of paying attention to all the latest courtly politics that had happened in his absence and only yawned when it was absolutely necessary. The countries that had been united under the rule of Shin Makoku had been very interested in solidifying that unity amongst themselves since Yuuri ’s departure, and that meant lots of weddings. So many nations were newly allied together that fresh pools of royal blood were welling up right and left and every king and queen wanted their heir matched off before the well ran dry. Wolfram fidgeted in his seat and pushed his leg firmly against Yuuri’s.
Yuuri didn’t recoil.
Wolfram’s smile broadened for a moment before he let out a small noise of pain.
Gwendal eyed him from across the carriage, and Wolfram mumbled something about a cramp in his cheek.
Gwendal coughed disapprovingly and Wolfram stopped smiling, but still glowed internally, his entire body alive and focused through the single contact of knee against knee.
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By the time they arrived at Blood Pledge Castle Yuuri’s bum was decidedly sore. He had no idea how the others could be used to riding in carriages, to him they seemed even more keen on jostling his internal organs into soup than riding horse back. It hadn ’t helped that Wolfram kept invading his personal space, pressing his side painfully against the wall of the carriage. He’d endured the attention as much as he could. The mild panic about what to do about his blond fiancé had kept his mind occupied for the last half of the trip. He felt a little guilty about ignoring Gunter, but he couldn’t see how he’d ever need to know the names of all the people who had gotten married in the past year.
An entire year.
Yuuri had been terrified it would be longer, that by some cruel twist of fate if he did manage a way back he would find Greta grown up and everyone else old or worse. He’d spent a long time thinking about how everything could go by without him. Days back home dragged on as he worried about how many hours passed in Shin Makoku for every minute he spent on Earth.
Since Wolfram had seemed so intent on smothering him on the way to the castle, it came as a shock when they arrived and he practically leapt out the door. The blond broke into a sprint before barreling through the crowd of people assembled to, he assumed, welcome him home. Stepping out of the carriage he gave Conrad a confused look.
“He probably went to find Greta, Your Majesty.” Conrad dismounted and came to stand next to him, acting as a sort of shield to keep Gunter at a distance while he babbled an overly zealous speech of gratitude on the king’s behalf to the eager crowd.
Before Yuuri could finish scanning the crowd for a sign of his daughter, she stumbled out of the mass of people. Seeing him, she broke into a run, hardly slowing down before she attached herself to his waist, almost knocking him over.
He embraced her with equal enthusiasm, pulling away briefly so he could kneel down and hug her properly. It felt so good to feel those little arms around him again.
“Thank goodness, Yuuri!” The girl cried into her shoulder, eyelashes brushing tears against his neck. “I missed you so much! Everyone’s missed you so much!”
“I’ve missed you too Greta. I’m sorry I’ve been away.” He rubbed her back soothingly. “Why the tears? It’s a time to be happy!”
She sniffled slightly, and her face contorted into an exaggerated pout “What a wimpy thing to say after disappearing for a year!” The pout vanished quickly and she smirked playfully up at him.
Yuuri laughed nervously in an attempt to mask vague horror. How much time had his daughter been spending with Wolfram?
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Anissina had just finished washing up, and was headed for the door when it crashed open, almost falling off its hinges.
“Greta!” Wolfram half shouted half panted. Sweat was breaking out in tiny beads along his forehead and his chest heaved in a desperate attempt for air.
“Did you really find it necessary to run all the way up here?”
Wolfram looked at her as if she had said something unnecessary and vaguely irritating. Men. They really did have no patience.
“I just sent her down to see Yuuri. You must have just missed—“
Wolfram turned and bolted back the way he came. She sighed and walked to the window. As she suspected, Greta had already found her father and was gesturing almost as enthusiastically as Gunter, who seemed to be addressing the crowd. Pulling up a chair, she decided to watch for a while before making her entrance.
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“—and riding. Ohh Yuuri you have to watch Wolfram and me play with swords. It’s so much fun!”
“Swords?” So much had changed while he was away. Yuuri wondered if he’d ever be able to make up for all the time he’d lost.
Eventually Gunter’s speech ended and Yuuri followed Conrad and the others up the main stairway, Greta clinging to his hand all the while. The castle didn’t seem to have changed at all. It was still unnervingly huge and reminded him of a European period film. Still, something about it felt like home. He breathed deeply, enjoying the damp smell of earth and stone that was pleasantly masked with spice and flowers. Even after spending so much time inside the walls he still passed doors and passages he couldn ’t remember ever being down. Most of them probably led to servant quarters or storage rooms, but he was still curious to see all of it. Maybe Conrad would agree to give him a full tour once Gwendal was through with him.
By the time they made it into Gwendal’s office, Yuuri was short of breath. He’d forgotten how many stairs there were. Grateful for the rest, he sat down in front of the dark wooden table and pulled Greta into his lap. She snuggled back into him and started playing with his hands, comparing them to the size of her own by pressing her left palm against his right hand. He indulged her silently and looked around.
Gwendal stood in front of his desk, menacing as ever, while Gunter started arranging huge stacks of papers. Yuuri swallowed.
It was as he feared- a long lecture planned out to brief him, this time on military happenings. He frowned. He’d just gotten back; the last thing he wanted to do was spend his first day cooped up in Gwendal’s office. There was so much to do, and so much space to do it in. That was one of his favorite things about Shin Makoku. There seemed to be room to do almost anything, unlike Japan where everything seemed crowded. Yuuri gave Conrad a pleading look but it was no use. His friend just shook his head and looked at Gwendal, who cleared his throat.
“After so long an absence I’m sure Your Majesty is aware that there have been many changes in alliance from the surrounding nations. Luckily, most of them have been in the favor of Shin Makoku—"
Yuuri stopped listening and shifted in his chair. When he started paying attention again a few minutes later, Gwendal had stopped talking and was glowering in his general direction. Pulling Greta closer for protection, he opened his mouth to apologize when he heard footsteps behind him. Thank goodness. He wasn’t the cause for Gwendal’s displeasure after all. He turned to see Wolfram enter the room while running a hand through his hair. His cheeks were flushed and Yuuri wondered if he’d caught a cold jumping into the fountain.
“Wolfram!” Greta squealed in delight, twisting in Yuuri's lap to look at her other father. “It’s Yuuri!”
“Yes, it’s Yuuri.” Wolfram smiled and walked toward them. “I’m glad you found him. I haven’t had such luck finding people lately. You see, I’ve been looking everywhere for a cute little girl who wasn’t on time to meet her fathers by the carriage.”
Yuuri stiffened and looked at Greta who blushed and murmured an apology. He hated the way the other boy said his name. It made his gut twist.
Wolfram made his way across the room and stood directly behind him. Yuuri felt the hair on his neck stand up as the other boy leaned over his shoulder to ruffle Greta’s hair. Wolfram smelled like he always did before bed, like soap or something. It was eerily feminine.Yuuri moved his head away.
“Look!” Greta grabbed his hand and pushed it against hers, just the way it had been a few minutes earlier.
Wolfram chuckled right by his ear and leaned closer. The tips of his hair were damp, probably from when he had come into the fountain to berate him. “Hnn? What a difference! You’ve grown. Hasn’t she, Yuuri?”
Yuuri was startled. “Oh!...” He didn’t see that much of a difference. Greta was Greta. She was still smaller than him, still cute.
“Ne, Yuuri?” It was whispered so close that he could feel Wolfram’s breath on his ear.
“Yes!” he squeaked.
Greta squirmed in delight and grabbed his right hand by the wrist, pulling it to her chest to hug it. She did the same to Wolfram’s left hand, which had moved to rest on her shoulder. “It’s so great! I have both Papas!” She giggled.
“So great.” Wolfram mirrored into Yuuri’s shoulder, burying his head into his neck. Before he could escape, Wolfram’s other arm came around to hug him and Greta from behind.
Yuuri laughed nervously, grateful for the back of the chair, which stopped just below his shoulder blades.
“Hey Wolfram, can we go play with Yuuri now?”
“Sorry Greta, Gwendal has important things to tell Yuuri, so we’ll have to save that for tomorrow. That is, of course, unless we can persuade big brother.”
The two of them then let out an exaggerated ‘Pleeeeeeease’.
Gwendal’s eyebrow was twitching mercilessly and Gunter had turned a violent pink. From his right he could have sworn he heard Conrad stifle a laugh.
Despite the awkwardness of the situation, Yuuri wasn’t one to ignore salvation when it came to him, so he joined the pitiful display.
“Go. Just go,” Gwendal sighed.
Yuuri found himself being dragged out of the room before Gwendal could have a chance to change his mind.
********
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Gwendal was still truly unnerved. There had been so much cute.
Gunter and Conrad had already left, leaving him in peace to brood over the small pile of maps on his desk. Gunter had gone to oversee the preparation of His Majesty's welcome-home feast and Conrad was probably off watching the children. He leaned back, plush leather of his chair squeaking slightly with the movement, and let his eyes skim over a new field report that had just come in that morning by pigeon.
Most of the field reports were hideously boring of late. As much as he still pressed for tight discipline within the ranks and for troops to be stationed at key points within the region, there really wasn’t much realistic threat. For the first time in centuries , nearly the entire continent was united under one rule. It was true that most of the larger nations allied with Shin Makoku still chose to remain independent, but many of the smaller or less powerful ones had begun to swear away sovereignty to Shin Makoku. And to think, all of this had been brought about by such a young and idealistic king.
The only thing of note within the report was the increasing frequency of deserters. Without the pressure of impending war it was easy for the young mazoku to decide to run off and settle down with an amicable farm girl or tavern boy. Most were of lower rank and it made little difference in the grand scheme of things, but a few had been officers. One was even a corporal who was once in Wolfram’s private guard. It didn’t cause him too much stress though; Gwendal had always disliked that man anyway. Though it was a problem, the desertions were hardly a pandemic and Gwendal saw little need for action just yet.
Gwendal had to fight off a smile as his thoughts wandered back to his youngest brother. He had been much too depressed lately and it was a joy to see him happy. Wolfram was much too young to act so jaded.Gwendal had always harbored high hopes for Wolfram’s happiness. He had managed to keep the boy out of the war and he hoped that it was as close to an actual battle as he would ever have to be. Still, Wolfram had taken pleasure in learning the gentlemanly arts and Gwendal hadn’t denied him an increase in rank when he deserved it. Although some nepotism was unavoidable, he was proud of his brother’s skills and had confidence that he could be as brilliant with a sword as Conrad if he could ever get his emotions in check.
Despite his still obvious depression, Wolfram had been doing better about hiding his hurt in the more recent months. He’d also been willingly spending time with Anissina, which did not sit well with Gwendal for a multitude of reasons.
Gwendal reminded himself, not for the first time, to talk to Anissina about Wolfram. The guilt of not noticing his…condition a year ago still weighed heavily on his shoulders, and neither Conrad nor himself had managed to successfully broach the subject even after so much time. Perhaps she would be able to check up on him.
Gwendal had realized years too late that he had failed Wolfram as a brother. Wolfram had looked to him when he had lost faith in Conrad. At the time,he had seen Wolfram as merely a blond bundle toddling about his knees with another man’s blood in his veins, and he had been too busy to deal with the situation properly. Also, too young perhaps to understand its significance. Wolfram was a lonely child, and Gwendalcould have done more to prevent it. At the time, he had been resentful of the additional responsibility placed on him. He was distracted by his passion to succeed within the military and didn’t feel like he should have to take on the responsibilities of a parent. His mother, despite her best efforts, wasn’t able to keep track of her youngest and he didn’t see it as his job to pick up the slack. Sometimes he wished he had.
Things probably would have worked out better if Wolfram’s uncle wasn’t so fanatical about pure bloodlines. It was that old family prejudice, the only thing he’d actually inherited from that side of the family, in addition to the pain shown by their mother when Conrad’s father passed away that drove Wolfram from the brother who had actually wanted to play a more fatherly role. It had been nice to watch Wolfram mend his relationship with Conrad since Yuuri had come to their world, but Gwendal still missed the seemingly ever -present shadow his youngest brother used to be. Admittedly, Conrad was better at showing affection, so it was easy to see why Wolfram leaned toward him.
Gwendal had never been good at coddling.
********
********
Several hours later, Wolfram found himself in a hallway trying desperately not to frolic.
He had stopped in an empty corridor on his way to the treasury to think, and had ended up leaning against a wall, covering his mouth with his hands and trying not to laugh manically.Yuuri was being amazingly receptive of his advances . It was almost too much, too good to be true. But it was! He had gotten to hug him at least twice more since they left Gwendal’s office to entertain Greta and there had been no resistance. No screaming, no fighting. Wolfram made a small noise of delight just thinking about it and slid down the wall, letting his toes support most of his weight. His cheeks were red with blush and his fingers criss-crossed over his mouth. Thinking of Yuuri , he closed his eyes and let his lips press gently against the inside of his palm.
Feeling a bit silly, he removed his hands and crossed his arms in front of his chest, eyes focused on the elaborate tile beneath his feet. One of the tiles was chipped, revealing a dark splotch of the cement. Strange all the things you never notice.
He had just put Greta to bed. The poor girl had fallen asleep on the grass after several hours of horseplay. She was so happy now that Yuuri was back. A part of him was jealous that she adored Yuuri so much more than himself, but he couldn’t really blame her. Yuuri was , well… Yuuri.
His wimp.
Now Wolfram was on his way to do something potentially disastrous, but he wasn’t too concerned. Even if Yuuri was pathetically unfamiliar with their customs, this one should be simple enough for him to wrap his mind around.
Having calmed himself enough to finish his journey, Wolfram stood and hurried on his way, proud that the frolicking was kept to the bare minimum.
********
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Yuuri sighed and stirred his soup.
It was the third course of soup so far this evening and he wondered how long dinner was going to last. The broth was too sweet for his liking so he just pushed it around. That was one of the biggest problems with soup. No matter how much you push it around it never looks like there’s any less of it.
The round table they were seated at was lavishly decorated with a floral centerpiece so high he could hardly see Gwendal and Gunter over it. Conrad sat to his left and the seat to his right was suspiciously empty.
After such a long day, sleep was looking better by the minute. First the excitement of returning to Shin Makoku, then the carriage ride back, followed by lectures upon lectures. Not to mention the late afternoon spent watching Greta ride. That had actually been the most relaxing part of the day, or had been until Wolfram decided Yuuri no longer needed any personal space.
Yuuri found himself surprised by his fiancé’s absence for the second time that day. It struck a chord of terror within him when he thought of the sorts of things Wolfram might be off planning for them.
He had made a terrible mistake.
Somehow, in not wanting to further disappoint Wolfram, Yuuri had stopped protesting his advances. In hindsight this had been a stupid thing to do, because now he couldn’t seem to get any space for himself. It was awkward and depressing, but since he had started he had no idea where to draw the line. Now that he had stopped pushing Wolfram away when he made him uncomfortable, it hardly seemed fair to push him away later for the things that made him really really uncomfortable. And despite his own discomfort, he didn’t think he could stand it if he made Wolfram sad.
Ever since he realized how blind he had been about Wolfram’s Possession, the gnawing guilt deep in his stomach had been relentless. What stung the most was his feeling that if the situation had been reversed, his friend would have noticed immediately. Yuuri had failed Wolfram as a friend. Almost gotten him killed. In a way, he had even been dead for a while.
Besides the guilt about Wolfram, he’d also made a promise to Conrad. If a name could mean a promise.
Brother.
He had meant it then, but over time the urgency had abated and he wondered if he had the strength to really do it. To do what would make Wolfram happy. To pay back his debt.
The more Yuuri thought about the Wolfram paradox, the more it seemed like the only reasonable thing for him to do. Put his own desires aside and do what was right for those around him. He was sure neither Gwendal nor Conrad would forgive him if he ruined their little brother’s happiness, even if it was only for so long as it took for Wolfram to find someone better than himself. Someone who could actually return his feelings. But if he tried to use that as an excuse to get rid of his engagement to Wolfram, then Wolfram would probably just say it wasn’t Yuuri ’s choice to make for him. Not to mention he’d end up burnt to a crisp. And even if he was allowed to have his pick of the gorgeous noble women around him, he wasn’t sure if he would be able to enjoy it. Wolfram was still his friend and Yuuri would feel unbearably guilty about being engaged to anyone else. What if Wolfram was so upset that he left? No. Nothing other than this would do. He would bear it silently. For the kingdom.
After all, he was supposed to be a king now, right? And not just any king, but the king that had saved this world from destruction at the hands of the greatest figure in their history. Practically a god. He had defeated a god and that required some sort of balance in karma.
Therefore, for the happiness of those around him, he would have to suffer.
Though he told himself this, acting so selflessly was proving very difficult. A part of Yuuri just wanted to be a regular kid again. But he had been cursed with a great destiny, so that was no longer a luxury he could afford, despite his access to large piles of treasure.
A servant came to take away his soup and replace it with a salad, if you could call it that. It just looked like a piece of lettuce with some decorative fruit and a thick drizzling of sauce.Yuuri fidgeted in his seat and pouted at Conrad who chuckled at him.
“You’ll have to forgive the castle’s enthusiasm at your return, Majesty.”
“It’s not the enthusiasm! But really, how much food can we eat? I’m already getting full and we’ve only…”
Gwendal coughed.
“Ohh well, I guess it can’t be helped.” Yuuri slouched in defeat. “And stop calling me ‘Your Majesty’, Conrad.”
“My apologies.”
Yuuri rubbed his head in frustration. This dinner was so tedious and there was no escape in sight.
“Your Majesty!” Gunter gushed, happy to have thought of something to explain. “The dishes of the welcome-home feast have great symbolism as well as exquisite taste—“
Yuuri tried not to groan audibly in despair.
“—bread that is made with only the finest grain, and then kept in a bottle of red wine to symbolize the heart of the nation. The bosom of the very land that is able to give the people peace so that they can eat and live—“
Gunter was talking so quickly that Yuuri wondered if he ever breathed.
“—and not to mention the second soup that is hardly second in taste and spirit made with the three great friends of the waters. The crayfish symbolizes the rivers that carry trade, the lobster the ocean that carries the delicacies of the sea, and the slippery eel the most illusive in its beauty—“
Unfortunately, Gunter must have managed to breathe at some point because it kept going for what seemed like ages.
********
********
To say the kitchens were in an uproar would have been a gross understatement. Hanz, the head chef, had practically shoved Wolfram into the stove while he was trying to catch a pheasant, which wasn’t quite as dead as previously thought, and had terrified one of the maids so much in the process that she fainted. Wolfram hadn’t sought revenge so much as refuge.
After searching through the dust of one of the treasure rooms for an undignified period of time, he had finally found all the spices he needed, along with the two traditional goblets, and made his way to the kitchens. He hadn’t expected to have to resort to colorful threats of physical violence to procure his current position in front of the oldest stove in the castle. True, he probably could have heated the small crock of the country’s finest wine with his own mazoku somewhere less traumatizing, but given the heightened state of his emotions he didn’t trust himself not to set the castle on fire.
It was just so exciting, this huge bubble of emotions trapped beneath his skin that was trying to burst out at all angles. He had spent so much time brooding about Yuuri and now everything was better than he’d ever really let himself fantasize. Sure, he had convinced himself that he was actually starting to move on, but now that Yuuri was back all his repressed desires were drowning him. His mind was completely clouded by this haze of wishful thinking that was so much more delicious than anything he had felt in a painful amount of time.
Wolfram measured out all the spices and lined them up so he could add them to the wine in the proper order and stared at the pot, willing it to boil.
There was a sense of urgency to his motions because the little voice in the back of his mind that was telling him to slow down and think about what he was doing was getting louder by the minute. Wolfram only glared at the wine and wished time would move faster so he could prove the voice wrong.
“You’re being stupid.”
Wolfram wondered why the voice in his head was sounding more and more like Anissina everyday.
“You’re being stupid.”
He turned. “Do you ever mind your own business? Go build something.” Wolfram waved his hand dismissively at her to emphasize his point.
Anissina, who was leaning against a table covered with feathers, raised an eyebrow at him. “Build something?” She brought her hand to her chin thoughtfully. “What an idea. Why don’t I make something to keep you from being so stupid? I think I’ll call it ‘What-are-you-thinking-he-hasn’t-changed-a
Wolfram scoffed and turned away. The wine had started to boil, so he added the first two ingredients, watching intently as they dissolved on contact with the hot surface. He frowned when he felt Anissina lean over him to peer at the contents of the small crock. “Are you still here?”
“No. I’m in my Lab.” She patted him on the shoulder, “Today just isn’t one of your smart days, is it?”
“Anissina---!” He snapped before closing his eyes to calm himself. “You haven’t seen him today. He has changed, and this is the right thing for me to be doing. Now could you please leave?
“Of course he has.” She pouted at him, speaking as if Wolfram was a toddler. “And Gwendal has wrinkles because he smiles so much.”
Wolfram scoffed. What an annoying woman. He added a few more ingredients to the pot and stirred it counterclockwise. “Anissina, dear, did you ever think that even if this was a stupid decision that half the castle probably already knows I’m planning on it and to back out now would be a sign of irreparable weakness of my own character?”
“Wolfram, darling, did you ever think that I just don’t want you to turn into a bitter old maid like me?”
He could feel her wink at him before he felt her arms wrap around him from behind in brief hug. “Anissina…”
She kissed the top of his head. “Fine, I won’t bother you any more today. Just don’t let that big heart of yours cloud your mind.” She bonked him on the head lightly, “I know it’s in there somewhere…”
Smirking, he added another ingredient. “Well, I’m glad you’ve come to your senses. I’ll be sure NOT to tell you all the details of my delicious evening with Yuuri.”
Behind him, Anissina rolled her eyes. “I’m sure…”
Wolfram smiled slightly at their exchange. Even though he thought Anissina was completely insane, Wolfram had to admit a certain fondness for the old maid. Besides being useful with Greta, she was the only one in the castle that didn’t look at him with a familiar mixture of pity and guilt. Anissina looked at him the same way she had before the ‘incident’. ‘Selfish Loafer’ was miles better than ‘Lovesick Fool Who Got Possessed Under My Watch’ in his book. Conrad couldn’t even say his name without a demeaning tremor of emotion. And Gwendal was hardly any better, always watching him out of the corner of his eye and not even having the decency to allow Wolfram to drown himself in military campaigns. On top of it all, Mother had left on another love cruise two weeks after Yuuri left and still hadn’t returned.
The most irritating aspect of it was that Wolfram was pretty much over the whole ordeal. Losing Yuuri was much more painful than the nightmares, possession, blackouts and odd memories. Memories that made him glad that the Great Sage decided to stay behind in the Shrine. The relationship between Shinou and the Great Sage had been… interesting, to say the least and Wolfram wasn’t excited about having to look him in the eyes with a straight face any time soon.
“Yuuri has changed.” Wolfram said aloud, gripping the wooden spoon he had been using to stir the spiced wine until his knuckles whitened.
Anissina sighed. “Yes, he’s changed. It’s been a year here, which means he could have spent two days on Earth fretting over ‘killing’ you, or two months learning how to move on. Something some people take an obnoxious time to do, but people like his majesty—“
“Enough!” He didn’t need Anissina vocalizing his doubts. It had to be bad luck. “As much as I accept your concern--”
“You have an awful habit of interrupting people.”
Wolfram nearly lit the spoon on fire. “OUT!”
The vile woman uttered something under her breath before she made her exit, weaving through the confusion of the kitchen.
He was a bit surprised she had left so easily, but was happy none the less. The wine mixture was nearly finished, so he took it off the stove and placed it on a nearby counter, brushing away some chopped vegetables to make room. A knife was lying near by and Wolfram picked it up and peered at it scrupulously before touching the blade with his left hand and setting it aflame for half a second. Satisfied that anything particularly nasty must have been killed, he made a small incision on his index finger and squeezed two drops of blood into the crock. Mostly unfazed by the slight pain, he couldn’t help but put the wounded finger into his mouth as he stared down into the wine and wondered if he was making a mistake.
Not that changing his plans was actually an option, especially now since Anissina had told him he was being stupid. If he didn’t do it she would think she’d won and it would be impossible to be anywhere near her for at least a month. Of course, he wasn’t planning on spending time with anyone besides Yuuri and Greta for at least twice that long. The old maid aside, he had seen other maids in here, which meant that all the help that wasn’t too busy cooking knew what he was up to. He wouldn’t be surprised if there was a betting pool started.
And Yuuri had been acting so… deliciously unlike his childish self, that success was inevitable. Wolfram's eyes unfocused and the corners of his lips twitched upwards slightly. The eagerness welled up inside him all over again and he abandoned his mixture to wash out the two goblets he had procured from the treasury. They hadn ’t been used in centuries and once the dust was removed he was surprised to discover they were clear. The translucent surface made them look more delicate and Wolfram realized he should probably practice carrying around things less irreplaceable before his debut.At about the same time, he realized that he probably smelled like the kitchens and gods knew what else from all the dusty things he had just crawled around in, and that he would probably have to bathe for a third time today. He had taken a ‘bath’ this morning in the fountain and then again after he had gotten sweaty running around the castle looking for Greta.
With Yuuri, any little detail could make the difference, so he had to make sure he was as desirable as possible.
********
********
“The thirty eighth course. Ahh—” There were tears in Gunter’s eyes, sparkling with the joy of his own words. “The Spanferkel. The very life of innocence that is the life of our king. The suckling pig yanked from its mother’s arms to show the willingness of the people to give away everything for the well being of their sovereign.”
Yuuri felt like he was going to be sick. The servants had come and gone fourteen more times, placing strange things in front of him that he only managed a bite from out of politeness. Gunter still rambled on and Yuuri felt like it would never end. That he would die of dinner.
He looked at Conrad, who was smiling slightly at him. Yuuri made a desperate face and Conrad only chuckled. It was ridiculous. Everyone was against him. Where the hell was Wolfram! He would have made some sort of distraction to end all this by now.
Yuuri had actually been considering killing himself with the spork, or at least creating a constructive flesh wound, when it finally ended.
“And finally the forty-second, the final dish that is the culmination of culminations: cherry tarts sprinkled with almonds. The tart flavor is representative of the bitter sensation of leaving the meal while the sweet cherry aftertaste bears testimony of the joy for hours.”
Gunter had made an impressive break for the finish, saying the last few dishes in a single breath. His labored breathing squeaked with enthusiasm as he regained his composure.
“Now that His Majesty is fully aware of the implications of the meal…” Gwendal growled, impatience evident in every wrinkle of his forehead, “might we move along to matters of more national importance?”
Yuuri perked up. Anything was better than listening to Gunter’s needlessly elaborate description of food.
Unfortunately it wasn’t all that much more interesting, mostly just a list of all the nations that had somehow become a part of Shin Makoku. A lot of this seemed strange as some of the new ‘territory’ didn’t even border the central nation.
It was somewhat entertaining to hear that one nation was impossibly difficult to talk to, refusing even to send an ambassador.Gwendal hadn’t seemed too worried about it since the country was rather small, or at least it sounded small. Shou Shimeron. If he remembered correctly it was somewhere near Caloria. Yuuri wondered what it was like. Maybe he could convince everyone that they needed to take a closer look, they could even stop for a while and visit Flurin. He could go on an adventure just like the old days.
Dinner was more than half way over when Wolfram finally made an entrance.
Yuuri looked happily at him, almost standing. Finally someone else to talk to! His apparent joy seemed to bother Wolfram, because he stopped and reddened for a moment before coming further into the private dining room. It was then that Yuuri noticed that Wolfram looked like a waiter; or at least he was carrying a tray with two glasses perched upon it with seemingly practiced grace.
Before he could ask about it, Gwendal coughed in displeasure, which distracted his attention. Gunter was completely red, covering his face with his cloth napkin and Conrad looked hopefully amused. When Yuuri turned back he was surprised to see Wolfram standing directly in front of him.
Looking up, he realized with a sense of dread that Wolfram was wearing his peacefully hopeful face. Terrifying, in that it was almost always followed with disappointment, rage and a bit of a singe to his own person.Yuuri swallowed loudly and Wolfram smiled reassuringly down at him.
“Yuuri…” Wolfram practically purred, placing the goblet in his hand. The glass stem felt flimsy in his grasp and he tried desperately not to break it.Yuuri had a distinct inkling that that would be a very bad thing to do.
Yuuri glanced down at the crimson liquid that swirled in his glass. It was warm and smelled like spice and something that made him feel flush. He supposed it was a type of wine and was momentarily happy.Gwendal and the others had never let him drink alcohol at dinner before- maybe they realized he was growing up. After all, he was sixteen now. “Great! I can see at least one person thinks I’ve grown up enough to enjoy some of the benefits of being a king.”
Gunter sputtered loudly.
“Yuuri…” Wolfram spoke, barely above a whisper. The blond was completely focused on him and seemed completely unaware of the noises the table's other occupants were making. Wolfram tilted his glass towards him.
Yuuri mirrored the gesture and congratulated himself. This was just a toast. It was easy, just Wolfram’s overly dramatic way of welcoming him home. For once he wasn ’t going to mess up. He beamed and moved to take a sip, when Wolfram suddenly dumped the contents of his glass over his head. Little crimson rivulets streamed down Wolfram’s face and his previously white cravat now looked blooded.
Yuuri panicked.
“Wolfram! What on earth?” He stood up and tried to find a napkin. The glass was still in his hands so in his rush he tried to hand it to Conrad. Surprisingly, Conrad sprung away from the glass like it was a snake. Annoyed, Yuuri set the glass on the table and used the napkin that had been in his lap to dab at Wolfram’s cheeks. Oddly, Wolfram just stood there, making no move clean himself off. “Are you crazy? What are you doing, you’ve got this stuff all over you now.”
Wolfram’s eyes closed and his jaw tensed and Yuuri started to wonder if he’d done something wrong. “Wolfram…”
After a few terrifying seconds, during which Yuuri prepared himself to run for his life, Wolfram opened his eyes and smiled at him. Or his mouth did, his eyes, however, seemed sad. It was just the sort of look Yuuri had worked so hard all day to avoid. “I’m sorry…”
“It’s fine. I’ll see you tonight. I have to go get cleaned up.” Turning on his heel Wolfram all but ran out the door, slamming it shut in his wake.
Yuuri stared at the spot where Wolfram used to be. “Conrad?”
Conrad stood and put a hand on his shoulder from behind. “It’s alright, just another custom. Wolfram should know you didn’t do anything on purpose.”
The overly comforting words only made him feel worse. “But what did I do?”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s his own fault for trying something so rash.” Gwendal muttered, taking a large sip from his glass.
Yuuri could hardly believe it. He must have done something wrong because he didn’t know a custom and now no one would even tell him what custom that he didn’t know about had caused such trouble. “But…”, he whined, then got an idea. “Gunter, how am I supposed to make a good king if I don’t know all the customs of my kingdom?”
“Ohhh your majesty this is all my fault! I should have instructed you sooner, I am a poor servant to the throne, I should be defenestrated at once, I have failed you—“
“Gunter, calm down. It’s not your fault!” What a commotion. Yuuri was starting to get a headache. “Just… tell me what just happened.”
Gunter perked up immediately, “You are too kind your majesty, only the greatest of—“
“Gunter!”
“The tradition Sir Beliefeld implemented was created by the third Maou’s bride-to-be and has only been used one other time before this evening. The lady, after being proposed to by his majesty the third Maou, found herself still unwed after waiting patiently for several months. Now, his majesty was concerned since the lady was still very young and wanted to wait until she was older to be wed. In her attempt to show him that she was mature enough to be his bride she started this custom, which is now the only dignified way for the Maou’s… intended… to suggest the wedding take place as soon as possible.
“The wine, which is blended with several spices, is the purest quality, symbolizing the purity of the persons… affection. The spices are specific to the person, so without knowing which ones Sir Beliefeld added I regretfully cannot tell you the specific implications. Also, the more impatient party would add some of their blood to the mixture to make it more personal.”
Yuuri blanched and looked at the goblet, glad he didn’t drink any of Wolfram’s blood.
“The pouring of the wine onto themselves symbolizes the impatience of the individual to show their affection to the person they are betrothed to. If the person who has been given the wine pours it onto himself also, then the couple elopes, both having shown their desire to be wed as soon as possible. If the recipient drinks the wine, he shows that while he still cares for the person who has given it, he wishes to be wed later.”
Why were all the customs in Shin Makoku so complicated? Not to mention needlessly convoluted. “Okay, so I didn’t drink it, does that mean I’ve broken the engagement?” He tried to keep the hope from leaking into his voice. Yes, he didn’t want to disappoint Wolfram, but maybe this was a way to sneak out of the engagement without upsetting Wolfram too much. After all, he hadn’t known what he was doing when he’d gotten engaged to him in the first place, wasn’t it fitting that he become un-engaged without knowing what he was doing?
“Not drinking the wine is a symbol of indecision, but your majesty didn’t only not drink the wine.”
Yuuri sighed and collapsed into his chair. “What else could I have possibly done?”
Gunter colored slightly and glanced at Conrad.
Following his gaze Yuuri looked at Conrad who seemed apologetic.
“Handing the wine to another person symbolizes--” Gunter’s voice squeaked, “that the reason for the delay in the wedding is an affair with--” Gunter trailed off, or hyperventilated, it was so hard to tell the difference.
“With Conrad! That’s ridiculous!”
“Thankfully” Gwendal broke in, “Sir Weller knew better than to take the glass.”
“Which means…”
“Which means, that the implication of an affair was denied.” Gwendal growled.
Yuuri could feel the waves of relief wash over him. “So what exactly does the custom say I did?”
Gunter seemed to have regained his ability to speak, “According to the custom created by the wife of the third Maou your majesty is indecisive about marrying Sir Belefield and has a… wandering eye…But of course everyone knows that your majesty was unaware of the custom and Sir Beliefeld's actions were completely inappropriate.”
Well, he didn’t seem to have implied anything that Wolfram didn’t already suspect of him. He groaned, “Why is everything so complicated already!” and buried his face in his arms.
“Don’t worry your majesty, I’m sure everything will be back to normal by morning,” Conrad tried to reassure him, but it was no use.
All he wanted now was to go back to his room to sleep, but he knew that Wolfram would probably be there waiting for him. Instead of being able to roll into the big bed and fall asleep, he would have to argue with Wolfram and then spend the night being kicked around. As much as he had hated his welcome home feast,Yuuri couldn’t help but wish there were more than forty -two courses.
*****
On to: Wishful Haze Chapter 2 Part 1
