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Through all the pain your eyes stayed true

Love alone is not enough

You stole the sun (straight from my heart)

Loved you most

What is felt, what was said

The sky that fell

It was the saddest kiss Yuuri had ever received. He has experienced such pain only once before, though not as strongly as now. When he was 9 and his grand mother had lain dying in a hospital bed. She had smiled at him, before kissing his cheek. It was a kiss to convey sorrow and sadness, but also immense freedom that comes at journey's end. She had died soon after. When Wolfram gave him a similar kiss, all the while smiling a small smile, Yuuri felt tears pooling in his eyes. Wolfram, you're not leaving me, right? Wolf, you swore you'll never leave me alone!

 

"Finally, I can do something worthy of you, Yuuri"

 

Wolfram's smile remained even as he charged to attack the assassins who threatened them. Still smiled as he nearly kills them with his fire, even though all the while they were cutting him with hosenki-edged swords. Smiled as the assassins ran away, smiled as he dropped to the ground, blood pouring profusely out of a gaping wound in his abdomen. Smiles as he says “I promised to keep you safe, wimp!" before passing out at the feet of a horrified Yuuri.

 

Mind blank with shock, Yuuri dropped to his knees besides the unconscious prince with labored breathing. Oh shinou, there’s so much blood. Even his hair looks red. Yuuri’s mind felt detached from his body. His brain was screaming for him to do something, anything, but he couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t call out for help. All he could do was stare as blood pooled around the limp body of his fire-breathing friend.

 

Wolfram’s body went into convulsions, and the frantic, sudden movements snapped Yuuri out of his mind-numbing shock. Heal, his mind screamed as he gently placed his hands over Wolfram’s wound, forcing green magic through his fingers into Wolf. Why isn’t it working? Why isn’t he getting better? Yuuri swallowed back panic, and tried to think logically. Because if I don’t, he’ll pay with his life… No! Shibuya Yuuri, get a grip! So, I can’t carry him back to the camp, it’s too far and it might worsen his injuries. Why won’t he heal? Think, think. Yuuri searched around madly, hoping for a clue to help him. That’s when he saw a small dagger, presumably dropped by one of the assassins in their haste to get away from Wolfram’s roaring fire lion. Its edge was gleaming a vicious shade of red. Of course! Human magic from the sword must have seeped into the wound, making it immune to my magical aid.

 

I need to clean the wound! Remembering Wolfram’s odd obsession for always keeping water at hand, Yuuri gently searched the other boy’s body for a water skin. Found it! Carefully, he tipped three-quarters of the content into the wound, his heart twisting painfully when Wolfram groaned in pain. Just a bit more, Wolf. My brave friend wouldn’t die this easily. He wouldn’t leave a wimp like me alone. Hold on, Wolf… Please hold on. Desperation was colouring his mind with pictures of Conrad and Gwendal staring at him disgustedly with the body of their brother in his arms. Enough! Yuuri wiped the wound dry as best he could with Wolfram’s neck cloth, before sending a surge of pure healing magic rushing down his arms into Wolf’s injury. It began to heal, and blood stopped oozing as the wound slowly began to close. Yuuri was close to laughing hysterically. It’s working! It’s working! He thought over and over again giddily.

 

Leaning as best he could against a tree trunk, Yuuri tried to adjust his haphazard grip on Wolfram to make it easier for him to continue healing, and so that Wolfram wouldn’t get a nasty crick in the neck when he wakes. If he wakes… Now that the bleeding had stopped and the skin was beginning to heal, Yuuri was relieved because although Wolfram’s breathing was shallow, it no longer sounded like he was struggling for air. I’m not moving him until I’m sure he won’t get worse on the way. As the magic flowed smoothly into Wolfram, Yuuri remembered the events that have ended with his friend nearly dying.

 

(Flashback to earlier in the day)

 

“Wolfram! Try to use your brain. Someone purposely sent this to anger you, and rushing out where it is easiest for them to attack you is stupid.” Gwendal was close to growling. He knew it was a trap, but he couldn’t help but be impressed with the brilliance of simply sending a rude, insulting letter to his youngest brother to draw Wolfram out of the relative safety of Blood Pledge Castle. Of course, acknowledgement of such intelligent tactical planning didn’t stop him from feeling a near overwhelming urge to break something at the coarse and vulgar words used to describe his brother in the letter. He read again the words that Wolfram had screamed out during his read-aloud breakfast session at the dining table. Greta wasn’t there, blessedly, but Gunter looked close to fainting, Conrad’s usual smile had shriveled in distaste while Yuuri had turned an interesting shade of green. His (Gwendal’s) facial expression had not changed, but the gardeners reported a strange, sudden earthquake that viciously tore through the herb garden

 

To the pathetic fool who pretends to be the consort of the 27th Maou,

 

This is a letter to voice our disgust that filth such as you would dare call yourself the fiancé of the most honourable King Shibuya Yuuri.

 

You are nothing but a perverted male intent upon using the king, and we curse your name and that hideous image you call a ‘face’. It pains us to think that such a displeasing figure of ugliness and lasciviousness has to be seen by the king daily. He deserves better than to have a dog (a mongrel at that) shadowing his every move like a vicious, jealous housewife, constantly insulting him in a voice akin to the wailing of dying bullfrogs. Your choice of clothing is so horrifying, that even the gentle nature of the king is appalled. Were it not for the fact that your nakedness would scar the king more than you have already, it would have pleased us greatly to burn all the rags you see fit for use…preferably while you are still wearing them.

 

Your shameful temper is akin to a wild animal with no self control, which hurts us deeply as the king has to live with such a barbaric…person, if such a term can be used to describe you, eh, Wolf? Your lunacy filled rants and raves bring about a bad taste in our mouths, as much due to the fact that it highlights your obvious lack of intelligence and obstinate stupidity, as due to the disgusting sound of your voice. When you croak, it disturbs us to think that the king has to listen to you. And that you would actually physically touch the king… our stomachs are unsettled. That your unclean, hideous, impure fingers should ever even approach the person of the king is a horrifying thought, as we fear the king will be soiled due to the contact.

 

We wish you to behave in a manner that would lessen the embarrassment you have caused the king. Come in the evening (if you do not know when that is, it is when the sun has started to go down and night approaches) to the forest behind the village of Faden so that we may end your life with dignity and end the trouble you have caused our beloved king. Come, to show that you are not a complete whore, selling your body for power.

 

If the words confuse your ill-used mind, we are sure you can find a maid or guard to read it to you

 

Long live the king,

Us

 

When I find them, they will eat these words thought Gwendal angrily. Wolfram might have looked utterly angered, but even he could see the pain that flashed through his green eyes when Yuuri was mentioned, and the beseeching, almost pleading look he sent Yuuri as he read the letter. It is as though he wishes the king to deny the lies that have been put against him, his fiancé. Gwendal couldn’t help but get slightly annoyed that Yuuri wasn’t instantly damning the falsehoods, but the king was most definitely concerned. I wonder if it’s for the same reason that I am worried Gwendal thought musingly, as he stared across the table at Conrad, who looked prepared to murder whoever it was that sent the letter. His commanding glare stopped Conrad who was about to snatch the letter out of his hands.

 

“Wolfram, as your superior, I expressly forbid you from going to meet these hooligans. Most likely it is a hoax. If it is not, it is an even better reason to stop you from meeting them. Listen Wolfram, if this is a trap you will be endangering yourself needlessly” Gwendal knew he had to try to protect his brother, knew that it was his duty, and knew that it would not work. When he ended the (for him) long speech, Gwendal slouched into his chair, waiting for the defensive tirade to come.

 

He was not disappointed.

 

Wolfram dragged his gaze from Yuuri and set it on Gwendal with enough anger behind it that Gwendal was tempted to check if his coat had caught fire. He drew a deep breath before launching into his destruction of Gwendal’s order.

 

“Technically, brother, as Yuuri’s betrothed, I outrank everyone except Yuuri and The Great Sage, and possibly mother. Your order is therefore not an order, and I will only see it as a request from my brother.”

 

Wolfram took another breath,

 

“If this is a pointless letter sent to infuriate me, it has proven effective. Should this be the work of hooligans, I will find them and bring them to justice. Swiftly, and preferably painfully. And if this is a trap, well….” Wolfram grinned evilly “then I am almost entirely certain I can take care of myself. Faden is nearby, so my magic should still be strong, unless they decided to stock up on hosenki. If they did, I will only be endangering those who follow me. So obviously, I should go alone”  At the end of his impenetrably bizarre logical reply Wolfram took up a determined stance, known by many as “the-unshakeable-will-of-the-lord-brat pose” that has beaten everyone before into submission.

 

Gwendal wanted his knitting needles, partly so that he could beat Gunter into sensibility again, partly because if he didn’t keep his hands busy right now something will break. “Fine, I am ordering you as your elder brother not to go!” Gwendal had raised his voice at this, and he could hear a spoken consent coming from Conrad. Gwendal loved cute things, and Gwendal loved his family. If anything happened to Wolfram, who was not only his baby brother, but also the cutest being in existence, he would….

 

“Sorry, brother, but unless I am less then 72 years old, you have no control over me. Mother is not here to forbid me, and I do not yet have a spouse to stop me from going. So I will most definitely honour this engagement (he almost spat the word), alone most preferably, and will meet with this bunch of misguided idiots.”

 

Finally, finally, Yuuri spoke up.

 

“Wolf, I know I am not your…. husband, and I refuse to give you an order as a king, because that would be unfair… but I am seriously hoping you will stay nice and safe here at the castle, and let Gwendal or Conrad or Josak settle this thing. You know they can be depended upon”

 

Wolfram’s stance had not changed. Instead, he swiveled on his heels away from Gwendal to face Yuuri.

 

“Yuuri,” he said through clenched teeth, fists shaking at his side “I know you don’t really think much about these insults to me, but I cannot simply stand by and let my brothers fight for my honour” you should be doing that “and so, my standing as a soldier of Shin Makoku means I will go to meet these imbeciles and set them right”

 

Yuuri smiled sadly. He had not missed that barb about him not caring. The truth which he had carefully concealed was that Yuuri was struggling not to become the Maou, his anger was so great. How dare they! How dare they insult Wolfram, Wolfram the brave, Wolfram the loyal, Wolfram the devoted, Wolfram the beautiful, Wolfram the angelic? I will find them, and they will learn the enormous error of hurting Wolfram.  He could feel the magic straining to get out, magic red-hot, fierce and angry. But he strived to keep his temper. Throwing a magical tantrum now would only further encourage Wolfram to do something stupid, and he’d much rather be hated by his fiancé than see Wolfram hurt, though he was greatly saddened by the spitting anger for him that could be seen in Wolfram’s eyes. Wolfram, you brat, you should know me better than that. These idiots will be brought to justice. Never imagine for a moment that I do not care. I think I may actually care too much.

 

“Very well then. I will follow you, and so will Gwendal, Conrad, Giesela and a small group of soldiers, both mazoku and human.” Yuuri waved his hand for silence as Wolfram opened his mouth to argue. “That was not a request from a friend. That was a king’s order. And Gunter, I am depending on you to take care of things while I go and sort this out. Am I right in placing my faith in you?” Gunter, who before was close to tears at being excluded was now crying at the apparent (to him at least) show of love from the king to him. “Heika, I am not worthy! But as your ever-loyal servant, I will gladly give my life to keep things running for you”. Conrad was smiling greatly at his seat, pleased with the outcome. Gwendal showed his agreement with a tiny nod.

 

In fact, the only person displeased with the plan was Wolfram.

 

“What do you care, wimp? It’s my battle; I don’t need you or anyone else to worry pointlessly about me! Obviously you don’t trust me not to be rash, and I don’t appreciate being treated like a child!” Wolfram threw Yuuri a look of pure ice. “Stay. Out. Of. It. Yuuri.”

 

With that as his parting words, Wolfram turned on his heel and walked angrily out of the dining room. Yuuri heaved a great sigh of displeasure. Damned if you do, damned if you don’t. But though I hate having Wolf this angry at me, I refuse to put him in danger just to get on his good side thought Yuuri, and with renewed resolve turned to face Conrad. “How soon can everyone be prepared? I don’t know how long it takes to get there” Yuuri waved his hand vaguely in the direction of the letter before continuing, “and I don’t think Wolfram is willing to wait for us”

 

“Don’t worry your majesty, I promise to get everyone ready and saddled in 20 minutes” Conrad stood and sketched a bow before he exited, closely followed by Gwendal. “Conrad” Yuuri said to the shut door “it’s Yuuri, remember?”

Yuuri was now alone in the room, and sighed again before walking off to get ready. The force with which he slammed the doors to the room shut was great enough to shake the rafters in the ceiling, the sound of dust settling accompanied by worried squawks of “bad omen!”.

 

(end flashback)

 

The night was steadily getting colder, and Yuuri was starting to worry that Wolf’s flailing grasp on his life would be lost if he didn’t do something soon. The wound in his abdomen was almost completely healed, so Yuuri moved the fairer boy up his body until he was enveloping Wolfram, glad that for once wearing a cape was more worth than trouble. I’ll have to start moving soon, back to camp. No one will start looking for us until tomorrow. Yuuri was absolutely terrified at the prospect.

 

When they had reached the meeting place, no time was lost in setting up camp. Evening came and passed, and night had fallen thickly before Gwendal had declared that it was just a hoax. Though you couldn’t actually hear anything, it felt like everyone had breathed a collective sigh of relief that Wolfram wasn’t in danger. Wolf was still in a foul mood at being forced to have an accompanying entourage for his trip, so Yuuri tried to make him feel better by inviting Wolf to go camping deeper in the woods together.

 

The ploy worked, and Wolfram’s temper started to recede. Seeing this, Gwendal had agreed, but he also assigned 4 guards, 2 of them humans to keep watch over the royal couple.

 

Wolfram had dragged Yuuri deeper into the woods until they reached a small meadow in the middle of the lush forest. “We’ll camp here!” Wolfram announced proudly, and Yuuri had to smile at the childish glee Wolfram was feeling over the small accomplishment. The guards were already hidden among the trees, guarding the parameters of the camp site.

 

They had barely finished unpacking their supplies before the assassins came.

 

 The guards were disposed of quickly and silently. Of the two, it was Wolfram who first felt their arrival and he immediately unsheathed his sword. “Wimp, stay close to me. When you can, run back to the main camp and tell them that we’re under attack. No, don’t mind me” Wolfram hurriedly whispered when Yuuri started protesting about leaving him behind. “Shut up, wimp, and listen. If we’re greatly outnumbered and I can’t get them all, I can at least distract them enough to give you time to run. Promise me, wimp, that you’ll try to save yourself first and not try to rescue me when it looks like I’m in trouble. Promise me, Yuuri!”

 

Before Yuuri could answer, the assassins had appeared. They were outnumbered almost ten to one. Wolf had kissed him and rushed into battle, and all he could do was stand there in astonishment. This isn’t supposed to happen. It’s supposed to be my turn to protect you.

 

***************************************************************************************************************

 

Hah! Brilliant protector I made Yuuri thought savagely. Yes, Wolf, my protecting skills are so great, which is why you’re limp and half-dead and nearly frozen while I’m in the pink of health. Angry tears made their way down his cheeks before softly splashing onto Wolfram.  

 

Wolfram felt the wetness, and cracked open one eye, trying to remember why he was in such agony. That Yuuri’s tear-stained face greeted his groggy mind didn’t faze him at all. Ah, I was protecting him again, wasn’t I? Why is he still here? The wimp!

Wolfram lifted a hand to brush away the tears. Yuuri was shocked at the feeling of a hand on his face. It’s Wolfram. He’s hurt so badly, so badly, and here he is trying to comfort me. The tears threatened to fall harder, but with steely determination he held them back. Concentrate on Wolf.

 

Wolfram started talking first.

 

 He sounds so tired and weak. I have reduced the unbreakable prince to this. I am a monster!

 

Yuuri was startled when the hand at his cheek softly slapped him. “Listen to me wimp, it’s not your fault I’m hurt! I was stupid and careless; we shouldn’t have gone away from the camp. Had you been hurt I… I don’t know what I would have done. So I suggest, before it gets much colder, you wrap me in some warm blankets and I’ll start a fire. Then you will proceed back to camp right away, with my sword, and tell Gwendal where I am. I think it’s safe for now. The cowards fled when I burned them, I doubt they will make a swift return. Now Yuuri, go! I’m asking you nicely, as your subject, friend, and fiancé. I have to keep you safe first, wimp, and then we can worry about me”

 

Yuuri was about to utterly refuse; he’d sooner freeze to death certain that Wolfram was with him than go away and risk having him whisked away by the darkness. “Please, Yuuri…” The prince’s tired, desperate request finally got through to him. It was the most logical option. Besides, since they were almost definitely after him, he’d be leading them away from Wolfram. Knowing the brat, he’d probably still stand and fight in his severely weakened state.

 

 Yuuri rushed into action. Propping Wolfram against the tree, he unclasped his cape and tucked it around Wolfram. He took 3 thick woolen blankets from their packs and wrapped Wolfram in them, careful not to aggravate his wounds. He found a scarf, a hat and some warm wine in the packs. The scarf was wound around Wolfram’s neck, the hat covered his bloodied hair and the wine was put within easy reach. Close to Wolfram he piled a load of firewood, which Wolfram lighted with a weak nod.

 

Pulling Wolfram into a quick embrace, the king said “I will be back before you know it. Please try to stay up Wolf; I need you to be awake when I return with help”. With that Yuuri gently replaced Wolfram back in the small hollow of the tree, and ran off in search of the main camp. He will not get hurt again. I will never let him get hurt again. I have been stupid before, but no more. No more of Wolfram suffering and in pain. You’ll see Wolfram. I’ll bring everyone, and I’ll rescue you. Wait for me. I’ll be your protector now

 

“Goodbye, wimp”

 

“Now are you idiots going to come out, or shall we see how strong my magic is when I’m really angry?” Wolfram’s voice was still not it’s usual forceful self, but it had a tone that could cut glass. The black-hooded assassins started appearing everywhere around Wolfram. Still, it’s nice to see at least half aren’t here, and most of the ones that are probably have nasty burns thought Wolfram. And at least the wimp isn’t here. He might’ve gotten hurt trying to protect me. Wolfram sighed, not caring about the assassins. At least I said goodbye.

 

“Now which one of you cowards is going to stop behaving like a sniveling 46 year old and tell me what in blazes is going on? Be quick about it. I’m tired, and I want to sleep somewhere warm. So that leaves hell, where I presume you wish to take me (take me, thought Wolfram, not send me, because I most definitely won’t go alone. The prospect warmed him, as he knew he wasn’t the kind to give up, even until the bitter end.), or the bed at camp, if you fools waste enough time for a search party to arrive. Which one shall it be then?” Wolfram couldn’t help it, he was getting irritated. If you are going to kill someone at least have the courtesy to do so quickly.

 

A hooded figure that was exactly like the others stepped forward, before dropping to one knee in front of Wolfram. “My most sincere apologies, Your Excellency. You were not supposed to get so badly injured. Rest assured the fool stupid enough to hurt you has been swiftly… dealt with. I and the rest will die for you before we allow you to get hurt. All we request is that you hold an audience with our ruler. However, it has been understood that you have accepted this request, and as such we will be bringing you to meet him. Is there anything your humble servant can do to ease your impending travels, my lord?”

 

Wolfram look was deadpan, even under the fluffy teddy hat Gwendal knitted. That’s when he said the words nobody expected to hear:

“Pull the other one, it’s got bells on”

 

 

(aaarghh, sorry! It’s an obscure joke I read before. You know when someone tells you something shocking you say “You’re just pulling my leg, aren’t you?” This is like that but it means if you’re gonna be stupid, I can be stupid too. Sorry.)

 

“Look,” Wolfram said, feeling a bit sorry for the man who looked absolutely confused. “One of your idiot underlings hurt me rather badly, and massive amounts of healing magic means my body is trying to sleep regardless of what I’m thinking. So kill me now, if you wish. But if, for some reason you are after Yuuri and not me, tell me now because I will use every ounce of energy I have left to kill all of you.” The threat, coming from a wounded Wolfram wrapped in blankets and wearing a woolen hat with bear ears ought to have sounded comical. However, there was an immoveable quiet certainty present in those words that caused all of the assassins to flinch and start looking around nervously.

 

“Still, after that letter, I doubt you’re after Yuuri. Unless it’s to sing praises at his feet or make flower crowns for his hair, I’m certain right now it’s me you’re after. So be done with it already, I’m tired of waiting”. Wolfram turned on his side, away from the face of the man, and tried to send a mental message to Yuuri. Don’t worry wimp. It’s just me dying, it’s no big loss. Remember to take Greta to see the seamstress tomorrow and don’t buy her anymore jewelry. Take good care of her and tell her I love her. And say sorry to brother Gwendal because I couldn’t take better care of you. Tell Weller that I don’t really hate him. Try to make Mother happy when she’s sad that I’m gone.

Goodbye wimp.

Oh, and Yuuri?

I love you

And don’t be sad just because you don’t love me

 

Seconds passed, and now Wolfram was REALLY mad. “You bunch of cowardly assassins! If I am not dead and disposed of before Yuuri returns, I swear I’ll kill all of you for letting Yuuri see my bloodied body. In this world or the next, I will make your lives a living hell!”

Flames erupted from a small bush and the nearest assassin backed away hurriedly.

 

“Your Excellency, I fear you misunderstood me. Our intent is not to kill. The letter was merely a ploy to get you away from the castle so that we could more easily send you to meet our king. He has heard a lot about you, and is anxious to meet you. Indeed he is quite enamored with you, and it hurt him deeply to write such a deceptive letter. ‘This suits that weakling king better than it does Lord Von Bielfelt’ was what he said when we were asked to send the letter.”

 

Wolfram’s jaw hung slack in astonishment. All that pain he had been put through… No, all the pain Yuuri had been put through was because some besotted fool with royal blood had a crush on him?       Despite the severity of the situation, Wolfram was tempted to laugh. Oh, I can imagine being so silly if it meant getting Yuuri! But if it’s just for a meeting, why not come see me at the castle? I’ve had admirers before. Why the deception and the lunatic schemes and the senseless brutality?  Wolfram felt fire grow again when he remembered the commotion and effort wasted on this.

 

“Who is this fool you call a king? And what does he really want to do with me?”

 

“I’m afraid you will only find out when we have reached his castle. For now, it is good night, my lord” As he spoke, the assassin placed a large hosenki chain around his neck and Wolfram’s world went black. His final conscious thoughts were not again…

 

 

(Now to the baka… oops, I meant Yuuri)

 

Why are there so many trees in this forest? Yuuri thought angrily as he snapped the hundredth branch that was in his way. Can’t you understand, trees? It’s not my time to waste! Every minute spent trying to force my way through is another minute for Wolfram to get hurt or fall ill or get lonely or…..  Yuuri smiled bitterly. It was his fault that Wolfram is hurt, and here he was, having a mental conversation with trees while the other boy waited for his return. But even at full pelt, his running wasn’t apparently getting him anywhere. The tiny stomped path they had followed felt as though it had lengthened impossibly, and the heart-stopping moment when Wolfram was stabbed kept replaying in his mind. Yuuri had to stop as he hurriedly swallowed to prevent the vomit at the back of his throat from coming to the forefront of his mouth.

 

Why didn’t I transform into the Maou when he needed me?

 

But that’s not a good enough a reason for not even trying to help Wolfram fight those murderers. I’m the king of this kingdom, but I was too cowardly to even think about being a help rather than a hindrance to him. It should have been me that got stabbed; I wouldn’t be as hurt because I have human blood. Why didn’t I THINK?

 

Haunted by the thought of his cowardice, Yuuri was greatly surprised to see he had reached the first sentry that guarded the outermost perimeter of the relatively large camp. The man was greatly surprised to see his crazed and bloodied king approaching him like a madman intent on murder.

 

“Forgive my rudeness, but I will only say this once: Wolfram is greatly hurt because we were attacked by a group of assassins. He managed to scare them away but was too weak to be moved. So I have come here to get help for him. Tell Gwendal and Conrad, and ask them to bring along Giesela. Give Wolfram’s sword to him, he should know what it means. And if you are not back here and with them in 10 minutes, you will pay. It is not my wish to hurt the innocent, but Lord Von Bielfelt’s life is the priority. Now go!”

 

To his credit, the poor guard didn’t start stumbling or stuttering; instead, he ripped a salute that would make any sergeant proud and ran without hesitation into the heart of the camp. Yuuri made a mental note to recommend the man for a promotion. Little did he know, the man was very slightly in love with Wolfram (as was a large portion of the entire Shin Makoku populace. Yuuri is apparently the only one oblivious to Wolfram’s charm and attractiveness. Some wonder how this could happen). The thought of his sunlight-blonde commander on the ground hurt and in pain gave wings to his feet. It wasn’t long before Gwendal, Giesela, Conrad and a few guards were assembled and faced Yuuri with surprised and worried faces.

 

Yuuri didn’t bother retelling the tale; instead he turned and ran, confident that they would follow. The story started falling off his tongue in his effort to give the most information with the least effort. Everyone was quiet, Giesela hugging her medicine chest tighter, a look of grim determination on her face. Yuuri was thankful for that unflinching gleam in her eyes; at times like this, he thought it was entirely possible that she could bring back the dead.

 

Don’t, please don’t let it come down to that.

 

 Why hadn’t I left him in Anissina’s will-protect-anything-kun?

 

 

(Her latest invention was a tree-house sized tent. According to the slightly insane inventor, her will-protect-anything-kun (wpak for short) could keep a butterfly safe in the middle of a raging thunderstorm. Of course, extensive tests had been done. Gunter, Gwendal and Murata were the unwilling volunteers. Out of the 3, Murata had the cushiest job. He was the “tactical engineer”, or so he called himself. Basically, The Great Sage had to think up nasty and inhumane ways to absolutely destroy the wpak. Gwendal’s brute force and magical abilities were used to carry out Murata’s evil-minded schemes for the destruction of the wpak. In keeping with her passion for accuracy, Anissina of course insisted Gunter stay in the tent (basically as a stunt dummy) regardless of how many boulders come flying his way, or the vicious earthquakes that threaten to suck him into the earth. After having any number of things collapse on him, Gunter finally did find the perfect prototype that wouldn’t even tremble at the force of Gwendal attempting to slice through the material (last time they tested with Gwendal’s sword, Gunter lost 8 inches of hair and 30 years of his life). At the unveiling, Anissina volunteered to stay in the tent herself and asked everyone to try and hurt her. Several gleeful giggles were heard before everyone remembered that Anissina was the devil incarnate, and if she got hurt … screams of terror were heard at this point. Suffice it to say, Anissina wasn’t even vaguely harmed while she was doing her demonstration. Yuuri was more impressed by the fear everyone had for the red-haired aristocrat than for the invention itself, but he did see the practical uses of an indestructible camp as clinics in war-torn countries and as a shield for those under attack. Anissina was pleased to have the king admire her work, and had given him a stow-away version that “Isn’t as strong as this permanent structure, but still pretty protective” before taking to her laboratory to further shorten Gwendal’s, Gunter’s and Murata’s lifespan.)

 

Said tent was buried under his school coats in the castle.

 

The wpak would have helped Wolfram a lot. Better yet, I should have just locked him in the permanent one in the backyard, when he first got the letter. Yuuri no baka! Yuuri no baka! Violently hitting his forehead even as he ran, Yuuri chanted the mantra under his breath. This is what happens when you take something for granted! I took Anissina for granted, and now Wolfram’s paying for it. And I took Wolfram for granted, and all my collective stupidity is killing him. Stupid, stupid. No wonder he calls me a wimp. Yuuri smiled, albeit a bit sadly as he recalled the almost-affectionate insult. Wait for me Wolfram; I want you to be proud of me. See, I’ve brought along everybody, so now we can rescue you! The Wolfram I know wouldn’t have been so inconsiderate so as to die when everyone needs him so. He wouldn’t die!

 

(You stole the sun……. Straight from my heart, from my heart, from my heart!

A quote from my favourite new song: what anyone with more than half a brain cell would feel if Wolfram was kidnapped)

 

The time taken for the rescue troupe to tramp through the undergrowth to reach the secluded meadow took only minutes, but for Yuuri it felt like decades since he left the green-eyed soldier. Every breath he took felt long and drawn out, every step so unbelievably heavy. It was as though he was swimming through thick, choking treacle, his movements arduous and maddeningly slow. He said he’ll never leave me, but even Wolfram can only wait so long. I’ve disappointed him before, and this time it’s going to cost everyone so much more. All because I couldn’t help him.

 

After a lifetime, a panting Yuuri spotted the figure of one of the guards assigned to protect him slumped against a rock. Giesela was by the man’s side in an instant, checking his breathing and pulse. “Don’t worry your majesty. He’s unharmed, merely unconscious”. Dusting herself off, Giesela went into her sergeant-and-commander mood, snapping orders at a few of the accompanying soldiers to return to camp immediately with the man, and to fetch and also bring back the other patrolmen. All in fear of the pretty green-haired woman, the soldiers literally leapt into action.

 

At Giesela’s diagnosis of the soldier, Gwendal acquired a frown that wrinkled a large portion of his face. Something was horribly wrong. If these people were really after Yuuri, he expected to see slit throats and tongues cut out. Because no one wanted a guard to wake up just as you were trying to murder the king. This felt more like a seek-and-capture then a seek-and-destroy situation. At least the king is with us. Even if it was a kidnapping attempt, Wolfram had apparently wounded them enough to stop them from coming after Yuuri. Gwendal internally smiled. His younger brother’s strength in producing destructive fire increased at least tenfold when he got angry. From Yuuri’s garbled explanation, he figured that Wolfram was single-handedly responsible for the king’s presently unhurt condition. But the uncomfortable feeling of impending doom was present until….

 

………..they reached the now-empty camp site. Yuuri was petrified, but he tried to calm down. Knowing Wolf, even in his hurt condition he would have tried to wash to appear presentable to his brothers. So, loudly screaming his name, Yuuri walked around the camp, expecting to hear a weak but irritated reply. He made a full circle before reaching the tree where he had propped Wolfram, falling to his feet and leaning against the now-familiar bark. Looking upwards in hopes of receiving divine help, Yuuri noticed the white piece of parchment flapping against the tree a bit above the crown of his head. Eagerly jumping upwards, he snatched the paper, shouting impatiently for everyone to come and see.

 

When a lantern was brought to him, Yuuri started reading haltingly. He paled violently and little tremors went through his body as he continued down the page. When he was through reading, he quietly passed the letter to Conrad. Sketching a slight bow to everyone, Yuuri made it to the burnt bush before he vomited what felt like his kidneys and stomach. He was dry-heaving, as Conrad read aloud for everyone.

 

To our greatly beloved sovereign, Your Highness Shibuya Yuuri,

 

Our mission is complete, Your Highness. We have taken care of the filth that dared to call itself you’re fiancé. His body is with us, as we do not wish to disrespect your eyes with the sight of his mutilated carcass. Now no longer will Your Highness be troubled by the idiotic brat, and it gives us great pleasure to think that we have removed such an obvious eyesore from Your Majesty’s side. Do not worry, the dead Wolfram Von Bielfelt will be treated with more respect than he deserves. This is to appease your gentle nature and dislike of all things unpleasant. Your Majesty, it is almost a guarantee that you will never be reminded of the monstrosity that is Wolfram ever again.

 

Long live the king!

 

Us

 

One could almost believe that this was a cruel, terrible joke, but for the fact that a lock of bloodied, curling golden hair was stuck to the bottom of the manuscript, almost directly next to the signature. The hair had very obviously been hacked off, the edges jagged and uneven. Conrad knew that, at least to some degree, the letter was true. His little brother who was always so well-groomed for Yuuri would never have allowed his hair to be cut in such a barbaric fashion. At the very least, Wolfram had to restrained and unconscious before anyone could do such a thing without getting irreparably hurt. And judging by the ferocity of hatred in this letter and the one before, Wolfram’s odds for survival was slim to none. Even if he was alive, what he has left to look forward to is torture and a slow, painful death. He’d be too weak too escape, and we know too little to be able to find him. IF, he was even alive…

 

A blanket of sorrow and silence enveloped the small group. Yuuri had sat down in the hollow where he last left Wolfram, wishing he could have protected his friend at least this once. Conrad was in shock, his eyes once again roaming the letter. What for? thought Yuuri. It’s not as though there’ll be a note somewhere that says it’s all a prank, and Wolfram was getting his revenge for all the times we scared him. With blank eyes, Yuuri looked around to gauge the reaction of everyone else. Giesela was quietly crying for the boy she’s known all his life; Gwendal looked like an unmoving, uncaring statue of stone, but it was clear that his heart was breaking; the guards were shocked, their twisted mouths and downcast eyes screaming the unspoken sorrow they felt at losing the commander they all adored.

 

Ah, Wolfram, you have left me at last. I was wondering when you would, because you’re always taking stupid, impossible risks with your life to save mine. But secretly I hoped that nothing would take you away. Because deep down inside me, I knew everything would fall apart if you were lost to us, to me. And now you’re gone. I never got to say good bye. Yuuri was feeling light-headed from the shock. You’ve made me a single parent! I’m widowed before I’m married. You died wearing Gwendal’s teddy hat. How could anyone dream of hurting you when you’re wearing such a cute hat? They have no soul, to hurt Wolfram the unbearably cute. Yuuri fought to suppress a giggle, before wondering how close he was to insanity to laugh at a moment like this.

 

Though hardly capable of controlling his own emotion, Conrad knew he had to comfort the king. The distant look in Yuuri’s eyes were scaring him. But after a blow like this, how could anyone regain their spirit? Everything felt broken and scattered. However, Conrad knew he had to try. Wolfram would hate to see Yuuri in such a sad state, and would hate it even more to know he had made the young king that way.

 

“Yuuri” Conrad gently muttered as he kneeled next to the young boy. “Yuuri, don’t let this despair hurt you. Wolfram would never want to see you like this, looking like the world is about to end. He’d want you to carry on” he gently patted Yuuri’s shoulder.

 

The force with which his hand was flung away surprised him and everyone else.

 

Shaking angrily, Yuuri stood, screaming at Conrad

“What do you know what he wants? You stupid half-human! All his life people treated him with complete disregard. You treat your own brother like he’s some sort of china doll, devoid of mind and emotions. He wants to hate you, for god’s sake! He actively tries to despise you, his own brother, and you do nothing but smile stupidly and walk away! You, who betrayed me once and betrayed Wolfram so many times, betrayed him as a man and a brother so startlingly often, dare tell ME, his king and fiancé, what Wolfram would want! Know your place, you ignorant fool! I…”

 

Yuuri’s mad rant was stopped by a sharp hit in the chest with Giesela’s medicine chest. Panting from the force exerted to throw the heavy thing with such force, Giesela pushed her bangs back before fixing a look of genuine disgust on Yuuri.

 

“Your majesty, you may be my king, but you of all people are not allowed to behave in such a staggeringly stupid manner in the face of such loss. Lord Von Bielfelt may be lost to us, but shouting at his brother and bringing up old hurt is not going to help anything. And, if you insist that Conrad has no right to speak of Wolfram, and that you do, tell me, what do you think he wants you to do in such a situation? Recall the times when you and he suffered abandonment. What did Wolfram do? Had he ever behaved in the way you did?” Giesela sighed sadly.

 “Your majesty, I don’t care if you charge me with treason, but I will not allow you to tarnish Wolfram’s memory with your own unstable emotions. It is not fair to him, and it is not fair to those of us who love him”. With that, she walked to her fallen medicine chest at the feet of a shocked and winded Yuuri and bent to pick it up.

 

With the chest in hand, Gisela straightened to step back, but saw the agony and tears in her king’s eyes.

 

“But it hurts so much. I won’t ever see him again, and it hurts” Yuuri kept repeating the words, breaking down and sobbing desperately on Giesela’s sympathetic shoulder. Rubbing his back, Giesela sent healing magic into the king to calm him and to shroud the pain, for at least a little while. Right now, it was 19-year-old Shibuya Yuuri who needed help, because it was he who was suffering. Not the amiable ruler of the demon tribe, not the overwhelmingly magical Maoh, just Yuuri, a young boy who has lost his best friend.

 

 

 

It was many minutes later before Yuuri felt a slight calm enclose him. From his vantage point off Giesela’s shoulder, he eyed the rest of his troupe, his breathing gradually slowing from the harsh pants before. Gwendal and Conrad were in deep conversation far away from him; the soldiers had broken rank and were discreetly guarding the parameters of the meadow. Giesela, he could feel, was still sending soothing magic up his spine, and for once he was glad that in the face of despair, he could break down and still have this friend (with whom he wasn’t extraordinarily close) hold him up.

 

I really don’t give her enough credit. If she hadn’t stopped me, I might have done something unforgivable. And Wolfram would’ve been sad. He’d pretend that he’s angry, but I know that he’d be sad. Remembering his friend, Yuuri felt light-headed, but with it he felt a core of steel rise through the pain, bringing to light a realization as to what he could do for Wolfram, and for everyone who loved him.

 

“Thank you, Giesela” Yuuri whispered into Giesela’s ear, “I feel better now. You have healed me yet again”. With that he gently pulled away from Giesela and stood, hearing the softly spoken “You’re welcome” before he helped her to her feet to go and see Conrad and Gwendal.

 

 “Your Majesty”. Acompanying the words were Gwendal’s slight nod and Conrad’s smile, as understanding as ever. Yuuri looked at each man, remembering that they must be at least as pained as he was and his resolve to lessen the hurt multiplied tenfold.

 

“Conrad?” Conrad cocked his head to one side and smiled, inviting him to continue.

 

“I want to say sorry, for all the things I said before. I understand if you can’t accept my apology, because I know I was rude and thoughtless and stupid and vulgar and… Anyways, I am well and truly sorry, because I know it hurts to lose Wolfram, and coupled with my harsh and baseless insults, it must make things more painful. No matter how bad I felt, I doubt Wolfram would appreciate me calling someone names. I hate myself, and anything that you want to do with me, well, I give my complete permission. Feel free to run me through with your sword, or…”

 

Conrad had shushed him. “Yuuri, don’t be silly. You don’t need my forgiveness. You haven’t had as much experience as me in controlling your emotions when you lose someone. Nobody expects you to be unfeeling in this situation, because everyone is in pain. We all of us here loved Wolfram, so stop berating yourself for getting upset. Now, do you have a plan, Yuuri-heika?” Conrad widened his smile, and though anguish glinted in his eyes, Yuuri knew the smile was genuine.

 

Gwendal looked on the exchange and heaved an internal sigh of relief. After the initial shock, true to his training, Gwendal had immediately silenced all the howling demons of depression and anger and buried them beneath logical thinking. Forget for a moment that you’re responsible for allowing him go off by himself after he received a death threat. Forget that you are supposed to be in charge, that you are supposed to protect your youngest brother. Hide the guilt, the guilt can wait, the guilt MUST wait. Time enough for wallowing in sadness when he got home, now was a time of action. At the castle though, he’ll go to see Anissina and her magic massages-you-thoroughly-to-relieve-stress-kun. Anissina, by virtue of being his oldest and most beloved friend, was used to Gwendal coming to sit in the lab and just stare at her as she went about her work. He only ever did it when he was stressed to the point of breaking, and the companionable silences apparently made him feel better. Plus, the inventions that Anissina forced him to try during these moments were the only ones that worked properly. There was the water-bath-with-bubble-maker-kun, the sprays-sweet-smelling-mist-at forehead-every-so-often-kun, the sleep-like-the-dead-sleep-mask-kun, and many, many others. These were the moments when Gwendal completely relaxes, and they give him enough strength to start again. So wait, wait until we get home.

 

“What do you wish for us to do, Your Majesty?”

 

“We are getting Wolfram back”

Neither man was shocked. In truth, each were beginning to form plans to retrieve their younger brother and would have carried out said plans even if it was against direct orders of the king.

 

“He died a hero, and deserves to be buried and remembered a hero. I will not allow those… monsters to take his dignity away from him, and I hope that his return, if not in spirit than at least in body, will help to heal the wounds Wolfram’s death has caused. He deserves to be buried in the land of the people he loved, and we deserve a place to say our goodbyes and thanks to. They will not take that away from me.”

 

The final sentence was spoken in the same steady voice he had used throughout, but there was an unmoving strength to them that bespoke of hard-headedness and unwavering determination.

 

We will get him back. I will get him back.

 

Morning dawned, and all hope was not lost.

 

(Now back to love)

 

Wolfram woke up, and all the bruises and cuts and wounds made themselves heard a million times over. The worst feeling, however, was that of choking discomfort caused by the hosenki around his neck and hands. It felt like it was compressing his internal organs, brain included. He’d have screamed, if his throat could be persuaded to work. Every breath made him feel like he was breathing through a straw a thousand feet under the ocean. Inhaling was slow and painful, exhaling was more so. Pathetic! He wanted to scream. Me, a proud, strong mazoku soldier gasping for breath and only able to flicker my eyelashes like some love-struck idiot female because some human (he mentally cursed the word) draped a hideous stone around my neck and used a chain made of the same bloody stupid stone!

 

Wolfram was insulted and disgusted enough by this thought to wrench his eyes open and scream a scream of fury. Movement that he hadn’t noticed before stopped, as the assassins turned to look at their captive.

 

The head assassin (who is known as Hedrid) was enormously surprised. Previous testing had shown that the hosenki chains currently wrapped around Wolfram was enough to almost, but not quite, kill a powerful full-grown demon. Now this tiny, beautiful creature with flashing green eyes and unruly, matted blonde hair looked strong enough to kill him with his bare hands, and looked as though he would do such a thing the moment he got his hands free.

 

Dismounting from his horse at the head of the group, he signaled for Wolfram’s rider to put him on the ground. Wolfram didn’t make it easy for the boy. He writhed and twisted, shoved viciously with his shoulders, attempted to part the boy from his nose, and at one point managed to get his boot over the side of the horse and connect it squarely with the young assassin’s chest. Though in terrible agony, Wolfram managed to shape his contorted his features into a smirk of pride. Let this be a lesson to all, he thought. Wolfram Von Bielfelt should never be taken lightly, hosenki or no hosenki.

 

After the extremely accurate kick, Wolfram had violently dismounted the boy and had both legs on the side of the horse facing Hedrid. Feigning a look of insufferable superiority, Wolfram drawled in perfect I’m-rich-and-gorgeous-and-am-far-more-important-than-you tutored-brat tones “You may have the pleasure of helping me of this horse. Be thankful I have given you such an honour”

 

Hedrid was of course forced to comply, seeing as how the other assassin was moaning in pain on the other side. A large part of him was tempted to slap the rump of the horse and let Wolfram fall into a crumpled heap at his feet, but he resisted the temptation. He felt a bit of grudging admiration for Wolfram. Being trained in the art of death and how to quickly bring it about, Hedrid knew pain when he saw it. And when he saw Wolfram, with his tired eyes and sweat beading on his forehead, he saw impossible amounts of pain. You had to respect someone that unwilling to give in to their bodies.

 

So as quickly as he could, he lifted The Lord Brat of his horse and onto the ground.

 

“I would have rewarded your efficiency” Wolfram continued in the same disinterested aristocratic voice, “But as you can see my hands are a bit…. Occupied” He threw a pointed look at his bound hands, and though he had to swallow to stop himself from vomiting, he jerked his head back to stare accusingly at Hedrid.

 

Hedrid sighed. It was going to be a long day, and morning had barely begun.

 

 

Seeing as how their captive was awake, Hedrid decided to not continue much more to take a break and asked everyone to dismount. No point in starving the little brat he thought. He might make a pointed remark about the “excellent service”, Hedrid very nearly shivered. The blonde with the short temperament had barely been conscious for a half hour, and already he was scared of the pointed retorts and condescending remarks that came out of a deceptively innocent mouth.

 

It wasn’t the words, Hedrid reflected. It was the tone. The tone that made him feel like furniture, the tone made him feel as alive as a table and as important as a teacup. Do not presume to compare yourself to such an important vessel, Hedrid. I trust a teacup to contain a beverage that greatly pleases me, whereas I would not trust you to keep your own bodily fluids in check. In this instance Hedrid, I sincerely hope I am wrong. Goosebumps erupt on Hedrid’s arms as he fervently prays that the teacup-Hedrid comparison never, ever occur to Wolfram.

 

“Listen, Hedrid” The boy knows my name, but he somehow manages to make it seem like he is doing me a favour, rather than a captive trying to sweet-talk a captor. How could anyone be capable of such a thing?

 

 Hedrid listened in captivated horror as the tightly-bound Wolfram, still with his teddy-hat on and his hair curling charmingly on his forehead attempted to negotiate with him. But of course, the negotiation was done in a way that made Wolfram the epitome of The Lord Brat

 

“Hedrid, try to concentrate when a superior is talking to you” Wolfram made a disgusted noise similar to that of a mother whose child just did something she disapproved of. It was a bit of a disgusted sigh, a bit of an impatient cluck and a lot of oral smirking.” I grow weary of talking to someone so slow on the uptake. Release the bonds on my hands, and I may see my way clear of allowing you to bask in the radiance of my silence. Abstain from releasing my hands, and I will feel it is my duty to shout out, very loudly, the enormously long list of your defects” ”Defects”? What am I, an object? “Beginning with your almost non-existent vocabulary and ending along with the death of the world.” Grinning nastily, Wolfram added, “It’s a rather long list, you see”

 

Hedrid barely stifled the scream of horror that was aroused by the threat. He was no fool; he knew that Wolfram wanted at least a bit of the hosenki to be taken off so that it wouldn’t hurt him as much. Hedrid also knew that pain drove people to do a lot of rather horrendous things, and he really didn’t want to know what Wolfram would come up with if he started to hurt more. If the blonde decided to conserve energy by stopping the amused looks he threw Hedrid ever so often, or the calculating stares that made him feel like Wolfram was measuring how much his soul is worth, he would have left the binds on. But if instead of physical put-downs Wolfram decided to put all his energy into verbally abusing him, he would much rather puncture his own eardrums.

 

Hedrid sighed. It was becoming pathetically unclear. Who was the captor and who was the captive?

 

The gloating, smug image of Wolfram greeted him as he took off the chains that cut roughly into Wolfram’s wrists and instead replaced them with wetted rope. The hosenki neck chain was left in place, because everyone present knew the extent of Wolfram’s magic powers. But as the chains came off his hands, he could see Wolfram visibly relax, and the disturbing gleam in his eye lost a bit of their ferocity. As he turned to prepare food for the brat, he could almost swear that he heard Wolfram breathe the words “Thanks Hedrid. For a human you’re not the worst”. Turning around in surprise, he saw Wolfram’s pouting face, which quickly morphed into one of nasty mischievousness.

 

“Hurry up, man. One such as me needs nutrition to sustain his breath-taking looks and superior brain capacity. We can’t all look like you and think like you, could we?”

 

But there wasn’t as much venom in the words. There was enough venom to, say, kill 750 men. Earlier, the venom would’ve been enough to send 1000 men to their graves. Hedrid went back to his task, determined now that he would be as nice to Wolfram as possible. Wolfram’s brazen temperament apparently cooled when he was treated with the respect he (admittedly) deserved.

 

Oh god! Thought Hedrid. He has been nothing but horrid and violent to me since the start, he has me burnt in places where fire was never meant to go, and I’ve gone and developed a soft spot for him. I am an idiot, and I hope he doesn’t find out.

 

He laid down the food (a measly fare of bread, cheese and water) in front of Wolfram, and watched delightedly as Wolfram set about an activity that didn’t require him to speak. Besides, since he doesn’t look as though he will faint at any given moment, I don’t have to feed him. Wolfram didn’t seem to notice Hedrid’s wandering eye. Hedrid turned away and started to sharpen his sword, before a hard hunk of cheese was thrown quite accurately at his head. Picking it up, he turned to look at Wolfram, who was still stuffing his face. “You can’t disarm and murder everyone here by throwing small pieces of food at them, you know.” Hedrid said, getting annoyed that the soldier was behaving so childishly.

 

Wolfram looked up from the food, and eyed Hedrid with a look of confusion, before he threw a bread crust that narrowly missed Hedrid’s nose. “Stop being such a complete fool. Do you honestly think I would waste food, no matter how pathetic, to attack you lot? Please! If I wasn’t so tired, I’d have murdered everyone with my fire ages ago. But you, you silly little man”. Little? I’m almost 2 full feet taller than he is! “Are in charge of my safety as well of the safety of your men, and therefore need to keep what little strength you have. Should we be attacked, I expect you to be a human shield for me. If you’re so frightfully thin, the blades would pass straight through you and injure me! So until I can sort this lunacy with the idiot you call king, I expect you to start taking better care of yourself to take better care of me”. Not pausing to clarify the cryptic outburst, Wolfram went back to eating.

 

Hedrid, who was as fluent in politics as his king was, used all his technical knowledge to decipher what the blonde had said. Roughly translated, he figured it meant that he should eat to keep his strength up in case of any emergency, because his men looked to him for leadership. If that was the correct assessment than he was shocked. Why would Wolfram want him to be fit? If he or the others were hurt because of a surprise attack, Wolfram had a chance of escaping. Of course, the king would severely punish everyone, but that was hardly any of Wolfram’s concern, was it?

 

Until I can sort this lunacy with the idiot you call king, I expect you to start taking better care of yourself to take better care of me

So Wolfram was actually willing to meet the king? And it’s because he knew that all present would be subject to pain if they returned without him? Hedrid took a deep breath and calmed down. He couldn’t read Wolfram’s thoughts; he couldn’t say for sure if his assumption was correct. He did start eating though.

 

Lowering his head so that his bangs covered his face, Wolfram grinned. Truly, the head assassin wasn’t a bad sort, and after years of having Yuuri’s dislike for conflict rubbing off on him, Wolfram didn’t want to see Hedrid or anyone else for that matter get hurt because of an idiot ruler and himself. Besides, I’m certain this fellow knows why I said what I said. If I can talk a head assassin into doing my bidding within 45 minutes of talking to him, I wonder what the extent of my power would be with the monarch. Shinou knows Yuuri follows my every bidding.

 

Yuuri.

 

Wolfram felt pain at the thought of his name. But wimp, honestly don’t worry. I’ll beat some sense into the idiot I’m about to meet, then I’ll be home and protecting you as soon as I can. You of all people know I can’t leave you alone for long. Wimp, you’d miss me like a shot!   

 

 

(Back to the baka)

 

They had packed up and left within a half-hour of the sun set. Yuuri sat astride Aoi, trying to plan the best course of action to get Wolfram’s body home. He managed a tiny smile as he saw the sun, remembering what a terribly heavy sleeper Wolfram was, and his magical ability to go from thoroughly asleep to washed and dressed in under five minutes. Yuuri remembered when Wolfram had dashed after him during the search for one of the boxes. He didn’t get sea sick once.  

 

Seeing the others on their horses, Yuuri could tell that they were recalling memories that were connected to the brat. In the silence of the swift trot back to Blood Pledge castle, Yuuri allowed himself to feel a bit of hope. Maybe Wolfram isn’t dead. Maybe he was kidnapped again. The though of Wolfram being tortured in a dungeon somewhere was enough to send shivers down his spine, but Yuuri reminded himself that a hurt Wolfram was a live Wolfram. A murdered Wolfram was a…….

 

Idiot! No point in my getting upset and queasy. Either way, whether or not he is alive, I should think Wolfram would like to be rescued. Well, he wouldn’t exactly like being rescued, and yeah, he’d probably burn me alive for undermining his abilities, and he’d sulk for months and months and he’d give me scary looks every time our eyes met. But I think underneath it all he’d probably appreciate that everyone moved heaven and earth to rescue him. He’d never say it, but I know he’d feel it.

 

A soft sob died in his throat as he struggled valiantly to stop bawling again. If he is alive, I’m getting him back. No matter what he will come home. To me.

 

 

But where to start? “Us” wasn’t exactly the name of a country or an association or anything, was it? They had no clue where Wolfram (or his body… Yuuri had to swallow a few times to down the bile in his throat) had been taken, and probably Wolfram didn’t know any better. If he’s still alive, how is he supposed to escape from a castle and a place he doesn’t even know?

 

Because there wasn’t a doubt in Yuuri’s mind that nobility were involved in this. Rebellious organizations could not afford to send so many skilled assassins, and the only ones with enough wealth and power to do such things were aristocrats, and possibly other people in high positions of government and militia.

But there is hope. There will always be hope. Yuuri did not let such harmful thoughts like how he remembered nothing of the assassins; not their uniforms or numbers or builds, distress him into fouling up this all-important quest. Though he never really thought about espionage, now he wanted to send as many scouts and spies as they had to cover every inch of this world. If they could not, he will personally traverse the globe searching his entire lifetime for the one person who would happily do the same for him.

 

But we will begin with countries that…. Yuuri recoils in horror from his thoughts. Who to investigate first? The assassination was not meant for Yuuri; why would enemies who dislike him being in power take the life of his fiancée instead? This would be unfitting behaviour for the rowdy countries not in agreement with Shin Makoku. Yet at the balls thrown in Blood Pledge Castle, all the ambassadors were clearly and unashamedly fond of Wolfram. Sometimes a bit too fond thinks Yuuri as he remembered a few groping perverts who’ve ended up with burnt hands. But Yuuri was certain none were pretending; everyone found Wolfram alluring. So it could not be the allied countries.

 

So where does that leave Yuuri?

 

Utterly and completely lost.

 

He felt despair reaching out ice-cold fingers to bring him to her depths, but he knew he could not give up. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Yuuri systematically began to remember the memories, both the good and the bad, he had shared with Wolfram. The times he was called affectionate insults, the arguments, the smiles, the banter, the loyalty, the fights, the honesty, the tantrums, the quarrels, the love….. Alone yet surrounded by men, Shibuya Yuuri immersed himself in daydreams and half-memories conjured up in loving memory of his missing friend. 

 

Take a breath Yuuri ordered himself. Take a deep breath and calm down. However illogical it is for Wolfram to be the target of such an operation (instead of me), I think it’s still best if we start searching the countries that aren’t allied with us. They have the most reason to bear such a terrible grudge, even if it isn’t against me. So what next? Ask Josak to begin searching. There’re a lot of countries that dislike Shin Makoku, but I’m certain Josak can succeed. He’s so…. talented.

 

Yuuri shivered when he realized that had they known who Wolfram’s captors were, they would even now be on their way to rescue him. Instead it will take months, or even years, to find him. IF he’s alive. If he’s… deceased, there is basically no hope. He could be buried ANYWHERE. It might be the small village cemetery right next to the castle and I wouldn’t know. Or they might have cremated him. Oh god, my handsome soldier’s body has been burnt to ashes, and I might never know it. What if they publicly hung his body? We could find him sooner, but for him to be stripped of his dignity even in death because of me… I don’t think I can bear it. Or worse, perhaps….

 

The thoughts were interrupted, because without he realizing it they had reached the outskirts of the village surrounding the castle. Soldiers patrolling the border looked up to meet the royal party and were cheerily saluting before seeing the grim countenance etched in the faces of all. The merriment instantly left them, as a foreboding feeling overtook their hearts. The more intelligent ones began counting the number of heads. Was it equal to the number that left? No, no, one was missing. Who could it be? Looking at their fellow soldiers at the back of the party, they sent questioning glances. The cavalry just shook their heads sadly. A few mouthed the name

 

Wolfram.

 

The message spread like wildfire. Immediately the general mood of comfort and contentment at such a bright day left them, the horror of the death of their beloved and much admired boy captain sobering any trace of happiness and light-heartedness. What happened? What took him away from us? The bolder ones began to throw angered sideways glances at, first, Gwendal and Conrad (How could you have failed to protect your brother?), and then Yuuri. Yuuri received the most heated glares, but was too absorbed in his own pain to notice.

 

Within a few minutes of their arrival, the news of Wolfram’s death had spread. It moved faster from the mouths of men than they did on their horses. It was as if hurtling before them was a most deadly plague, as the streets quieted and an aura of death and sorrow fell over the village.

 

This Yuuri realized, and while it did make him more determined to bring back Wolfram, he could feel his heart being crushed slowly, it hurting a little more for every step Ao took. All this sadness is for the loss of Wolfram. It is MY fault he is lost. And I have to tell Lady Celi….

 

They soon reached the castle gates, and Yuuri had to resist the urge to turn his horse around and gallop away. He will be meeting Lady Celi, Wolfram’s mother, to tell her he killed her youngest child.

 

 

(hello, my love!)

 

Wolfram had finished devouring the food that he had been given, and he could see the awed and shocked look Hedrid was trying very hard not to give him. What? Wolfram pouted adorably. Just because I’m not as well built as most macho idiots doesn’t mean I can’t eat my share.

Shifting back so that his weight was on his arms, Wolfram cast a questioning look at Hedrid. As the head leader, Hedrid knew he mustn’t show fear in the face of such an unlikely tyrant. That said, what he really wanted to do was plug Wolfram’s mouth with fruits and run swiftly away in the opposite direction.

 

When the conversation began, he wondered why he didn’t listen to his baser (and by far more intelligent) instincts.

 

“So… Hedrid, was it?  I have never found myself in a situation where I was forced to remember a human’s name, so I am afraid I may make many a mistake when attempting to pronounce your…name. Do not mind them, they mean you no harm” Wolfram smirked evilly.

 

O gods, I would pray to you to save me from his mouth, but why does it feel that even you would fear him? Thought Hedrid. Wolfram had barely begun and already he felt his self-esteem drop to a new, previously-untouched low. Oh, what fun! He thought grimly.

 

“Who exactly is the king that I am supposed to meet? Though I do not begrudge him his good taste, I must say he has the strangest ways of showing affection. I at least deserve the name of the ruler who has put me through so much… inconvenience” said Wolfram, pointedly staring at the chain around his neck.  He continued, “And what country does he rule? This is so I know where to send my condolences to for having such a feckless ruler. Or shall I just order the criers of Shin Makoku to go to every country inhabited by humans declaring “Lord Von Bielefelt conveys his utmost sympathy for the country of Hedrid the assassin, because of their most unspeakably useless ruler!” and wait for you to come out and die of embarrassment at my feet? Certainly it is your choice, as I (Wolfram smiles wickedly) have all the time in this world”

 

He sits up again and takes a water skin, before swigging its contents into his mouth.

 

That was a shockingly scary threat, as I am certain he means every word. At the same time, I must say I’m impressed. It takes tremendous courage and wit to openly insult one who could have your head cut off in seconds. But, strangely, I don’t feel like behaving roughly with him. He’s altogether to amazing a specimen of cleverness.

 

Hedrid sighs and decides to answer the questions. Though of course he shouldn’t, as any information given to one so crafty as Wolfram would definitely be a dangerous thing. But he’d sooner be put in danger than suffer more torment at the hands of an intelligent brat who looked scarcely 12 years old.

 

“I will tell you who my sovereign is, Lord Von Bielefelt, but I will not tell you the name of our country. Such knowledge in your hands will prove to be my downfall, and I’m too young to die. So content yourself with the name of my king, as I fear you may have to follow through your plan that involves town criers to find my country. Is that alright?”

 

Wolfram considered for a moment, before nodding his head. “I fear I over thought your abilities Hedrid, and have taxed your mind by asking two questions instead of one. You may continue, and I will try my luck some other time”

 

Hedrid didn’t know if he was choking on anger or laughter. He decided not to find out.

 

Hedrid clears his throat, wondering if he should just snap out the name or give a bit of background or anything. Honesty is the best policy he reminds himself, and begins.

 

“Our ruler is The Royal Highness, His Majesty the King Mikael Stromb. He has ruled our fair nation for over 7 years and is the only living child of the deceased King and Queen Thrombel and Abelle Stromb. He is now of a marriageable age and sends groups of trained collectors to seek out those that he finds suitable to be his partner. However, out of the hundreds of noblemen and women, only you have been selected, Lord Von Bielefelt. He has taken an unusual liking to you, Your Excellency, and as a result extremely dislikes the king of Shin Makoku for engaging himself to you before my king had a chance to make your acquaintance. What he wishes you to do when he meets you I don’t know; nor do I know of his future plans regarding you or your kingdom. That is all I wish to say, and already I fear I have said too much. Don’t ask anymore, you will meet him yourself in a two days’ time”

 

Wolfram did not reply, choosing instead to stare blankly at the patch of grass at his feet. Hedrid shook his head and resumed his earlier task of sharpening his sword. At least he won’t have much time to think; we’ll continue in a few minutes, and I will be smart for the first time in this whole mad charade. The blonde will wear a blindfold.

 

Wolfram’s mind was whirring as he tried to make sense of all the new information. Even though he was a soldier, he still had lessons with Gunter about the politics of other countries. Furiously he went through his memory searching for something to help him. Mikael, Mikael…. It is such a familiar name. What facts do I know? 1)The king is at least 18 years old, probably older. He’s been reigning for 7 years, yet begins this lunatic assault on bridal candidates only now. He must be a fairly young human. 2)His parents are Thrombel and Abelle, and he is an only child. Only LIVING child, so the former king and queen had trouble producing an heir. The thought greatly inspired Wolfram. Gossip as juicy as this was bound to have reached him at some point; all he needed to do was remember. 3)The country is fair sized, probably bigger than Francia. Too many skilled assassins dispatched to fetch just one person, yet I am certain the king is still well protected. Their military force is no slouch, so I doubt it is a small country. 4)The country either borders Shin Makoku, or is very close. It would probably take 2 days of out-and-out riding without rest to get to its border. Why is my geography rotten? At least I know how far I’d have to go to get back home. 5)There’s a good chance the king is cruel, or gets easily carried away by his emotions. Judging by Hedrid’s expression, all these men… Wolfram looked around at the 20 or so riders and amended his statement…and women would have been punished if I was not brought before the king. Oh, even if I can’t figure out what country it is, if I can get a message to big big brother with the names of the royal family, they are bound to be able to find me. So, I should just wait until my audience with the silly fool before I plan my escape or attack. No point troubling big big brother and Yuuri and the rest unless I really need to.

 

Pleased with his mental accomplishments, Wolfram turned to smile an extremely heart-warming smile at Hedrid who has been surprisingly helpful and kind. Hedrid very nearly stabbed his own hand, so surprised was he to see such a pleasant look on his captive’s face. But he was glad. For reasons he may never know, he has found himself quite liking Wolfram, and though he would never directly disobey his king’s orders, he disliked seeing the boy in pain.

 

All this soft, mushy feelings and I’ve known him for barely an hour. No wonder he is a king’s fiancée, and my own king is in rapture of him.

 

Hedrid got up and pulled the unresisting Wolfram to his feet, before whistling to his band of men to begin moving. Pulling the sash that acted as belt from his waist, he held it out to Wolfram.

 

Wolfram’s smile instantly faded. “A blindfold? Honestly, a blindfold? You do me great injustice not to trust my honour Hedrid. I am deeply offended, and for a moment there, for reasons unknown, I thought you were not a completely abominable human. I see now that my judgment was hideously impaired. ” Wolfram breathed a sad sigh and turned his back to Hedrid. This is not good. I wanted to memorize the scenery so I would know which path to follow if I have to run away. But never mind. There will be another way. There always is. For now, I shall just happily endeavor to make Hedrid feel like the guiltiest assassin in existence. Wolfram bit down a chuckle, and bent his head so that his back looked like the very picture of hurt innocence. Mikael, eat your heart out!

 

Wolfram had to stop from rolling in laughter when he heard Hedrid apologise and say that, oh, no, he trusted Wolfram completely but it was the king’s orders and he was only a humble servant. May you never realize, my dear Hedrid, that you are currently apologizing and attempting to sweet-talk your captive.

 

Wolfram contained his laughter, and managed a small sigh instead. He felt the sash cover his eyes oh-so-gently, and could not resist further tormenting Hedrid. I know I am in a possibly dangerous situation, and everyone at home is worried, and things could so easily go wrong and I may never see Yuuri again, but this is extremely fun!

 

“Tell me Hedrid,” Wolfram began in a sad, tired little voice. “Is he… is your king who wishes to marry me very… handsome?” Wolfram was amazed at his talent. He had actually managed to make his voice quaver like a girl about to cry when he said “handsome”

 

Hedrid was at a loss for words. Why do I feel so protective all of a sudden? It’s almost as bad as when Leis said she liked a boy. Hedrid’s face blanched. The demon with his back to him was probably only a few physical years older than Leis, his youngest daughter, and he was asking his opinion about the way the king looked. And he sounds like he’s about to cry! Calm down Hedrid, just reassure him, and then break all contact with him until we get to the castle. I am an assassin, I will feed my captive sweet nothings to calm him, his emotions do not really matter to me. The poor boy… He doesn’t know that final letter we planted for his king. No way will Wolfram be leaving Petrach Castle. He is dead to his kingdom. Hedrid repeated that to himself over and over again, but he knew he was too late. He decided, however, to at least attempt to distance himself emotionally from the small blonde.

 

That was his decision; that wasn’t what he said.

 

What he said was:

 

“Ah, don’t worry Lord Von Bielefelt. Our king has a very pleasing look about him, and is kind-hearted to a fault. Many have admired his handsomeness and I am certain you will not be disappointed. And if you really are not taken with him, I’m sure two outstanding individuals such as yourselves will be able to come to a compromise. Your Excellency, I promise you nothing very bad will happen to you”

 

Hedrid was surprised to find that he meant what he promised.

 

Wolfram too could feel the earnestness in the voice of the man who towered over him.

Who knows, Hedrid? If we both make it out of this we could be great friends. Already I see you like me, and there is a very comforting feeling to be had in your presence. Pray it all works out, Hedrid. Pray very hard.  

 

 

 

 

(Yuuri…. No baka)

 

Yuuri had wasted time in fussing over his horse, as he thought of the best way to break the news of Wolfram’s probable death and possible abduction to Celi. The thought scared him so much. Wolfram was the spitting image of Celi, if not more beautiful, and looking at the former queen with grief in her eyes would be like destroying Wolfram a second time, both times completely his fault. And Greta… Greta must not know. Not until I get Wolfram back, one way or the other. She deserves to at least say goodbye. And I will speak to Celi personally in the gardens. She will be allowed to do to me as she sees fit, without fear of repercussion. I have killed her son.

 

Yuuri swayed slightly and leaned heavily against Ao, breathing in the reassuring scent of horse flesh. He just stood there, trying as best he could to gather his courage for the horrible task ahead. Pushing away from the horse, he smiles at Ao and pats his nose. “What a wonderful horse you are, friend of mine. I feel a bit better, and much braver. I will go see Lady Celi now, wish me luck!” Yuuri manages a small smile at the thought of him asking for good luck from a horse, but it wavered and died swiftly. He sighs once, and briskly walks out of the stable. At the entrance of the castle, he dispatched a page to ask Celi to meet him in the gardens. Walking ahead, he reached the gardens quickly, and sadly instructed the guards to make themselves scarce. Whatever happened between him and Lady Celi would stay between them.

 

Barely minutes later, he heard someone squeal “Heika!!!” and turns, only to be buried in the voluptuous chest of the former Demon Queen. After painfully choked seconds, Yuuri felt sharp nails dig into his shoulders to push him away from the ample bosom and into the line of sight of its owner. Celi (who was a few hundred years old) was squealing excitedly, flicking his hair and playfully pinching his cheeks until they became a ruddy shade of red. “Oh, heika, I’m so glad to see you all back! I haven’t seen Wolfram though, what a naughty boy he is to scare his mother like this! I am afraid I shall have to make him follow me shopping as a punishment for avoiding me! Tell me EVERYTHING that happened. Gwendal is his usual grouchy self, even his mouth looks like a wrinkle! He wouldn’t say a word when I asked him about the trip, he only grunted. Yuuri-heika, I am a woman, I cannot understand grunts! And Conrad set off on a 10-mile marathon with his troops the minute he set foot in the castle. Is there a secret heika? Tell me!” concluded Celi as she laughed girlishly.

 

Yuuri didn’t know where to start, and Celi’s startling resemblance to her youngest son was dredging up all the emotion he had tried to stifle in the stable. Feelings of unequaled sadness bubbled up, and Yuuri found himself too weak to resist the pull of tears. It traced a transparent line down his cheek, coming softly at first, before Yuuri began crying in earnest, and it flowed like a torrential stream, wetting his cheeks as he fell into the shocked embrace of the 26th demon king.

 

“Heika! What’s wrong? Did my Wolfie tease you again? Did you get hurt? Yuuri, tell me what’s wrong!” Celi was surprised, but was trying to comfort the crying boy as best she could, ruffling his hair and soothingly rubbing his back. But the gift of female intuition told her that she would really, really dislike whatever had gone wrong on the trip. And being a mother, she could tell it was about one of her sons. Being an intelligent, former-demon queen told her it had something to do with Wolfram.

 

Yuuri was sobbing uncontrollably, and kept saying sorry over and over again. For countless moments Yuuri cried, once again held up by a woman radiating love and concern. When he didn’t feel so rattled, Yuuri began to speak. He didn’t move his face away from the hug; he was too ashamed and cowardly to see Celi’s reaction.

 

At the end of his recounting, Celi’s hand paused their calming movements, and the older woman stopped breathing. When she next exhaled, it came out shuddering as she breathed the name of the son lost to her. “Wolfie…. Oh, Wolfie….” Yuuri could hear the shock and pain in her voice, and could not bear to face her.

 

He nearly yelped with surprise when she hugged him harder and continued her previous motions. “Yuuri heika, are you crying because we have lost Wolfram?” Yuuri could do little more than slightly nod his head.

“Heika…” she continued softly. “Do not be so sad, heika. My Wolfie did not die in vain. No, don’t say that your carelessness is to blame. He kept you safe until the end Yuuri. Don’t you see? As long as you are alive, Wolfram cannot be dead. He has poured his heart and soul into you, into keeping you safe, and for as long as you live he will be remembered. Though I want to smack him for being so rash and unthinking when it comes to protecting you,” Celi’s voice broke a little, ”I cannot imagine my brave little Wolfie doing anything less than what he did. He may not look like it, but Wolfram is very self-sacrificial. Nothing is too great to be done for the people he loved. Comfort yourself with the memory: Wolfram loved you, Yuuri heika. Always remember that, and keep that thought in your soul whenever the sadness is overwhelming you. Heika, return to me and the kingdom my son. I know I can trust you to do that”

 

Yuuri was awed by Celi’s gentle, wise tone and thoughtful words. He nodded again, this time with more ferocity, and gently pushed away from Celi. Bashfully kissing her on the cheek, Yuuri said quietly, “Thank you, Lady Celi. My faith has been restored. The search will begin now, and I will not disappoint you again.” That said, Yuuri smiled at her and swiftly walked towards his office in the castle. Time has come for a plan of action to be devised.

 

Celi, who was smiling and waving at the king’s retreating back,