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Bloom	By : chayron Category: +G to L > Kyou Kara Maou Views: 9093 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Kyou Kara Maou! It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I'm not making any money from writing it.

Chapter List
- 1-Bloom
- 2-Part 2
- 3-Part 3
- 4-Part 4
- 5-Part 5
- 6-Part 6
- 7-Part 7
- 8-Part 8
- 9-Part 9
- 10-Part 10
- 11-Part 11
- 12-Part 12
- 13-Part 13
- 14-Part 14
- 15-Part 15
- 16-Part 16
- 17-Part 17
- 18-Part 18
- 19-Part 19
- 20-Part 20
- 21-Part 21
- 22-Part 22
- 23-Part 23
- 24-Part 24
- 25-Part 25
- 26-Part 26
- 27-Part 27
- 28-Part 28
- 29-Part 29
- 30-Part 30
- 31-Part 31
- 32-Part 32
- 33-Part 33
- 34-Part 34
- 35-Part 35
- 36-Part 36
- 37-Part 37
- 38-Part 38
- 39-Part 39
- 40-Part 40
- 41-Part 41
- 42-Part 42
- 43-Part 43
- 44-Part 44
- 45-Part 45
- 46-Part 46
- 47-Part 47
- 48-Part 48
- 49-Part 49
- 50-Part 50
- 51-Part 51
- 52-Part 52
- 53-Part 53
- 54-Part 54
- 55-Part 55
- 56-Part 56
- 57-Part 57
- 58-Part 58
- 59-Part 59
- 60-Part 60
- 61-Part 61
- 62-Part 62
- 63-Part 63
- 64-Part 64
- 65-Part 65
- 10
- 11
- 12
Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.
Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.
Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.
A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 20. Eldara – 31. Halea – 20. Athara – 18.
A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.
A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.
A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.
A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.
A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.
Bloom
by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by HARPG0
Part 11
In the end, it was Halea, not the duke, who had taken Wolfram down to the town. It was to see the festival thrown annually at the end of the fall in order to thank Aurun, the Goddess’s of Plenty. Wolfram was glad about any diversion from life saturated with boredom even if that meant he had to be subjected to about an hour’s or more turtle-pace down the hill, through a small grove, and then all the way through the town to the festival square.
It was only Halea and Wolfram going down the steep hill (Halea in a carriage, while Wolfram decided that it was safer for him to ride a horse) as Athara was absent. Wolfram noticed that, despite the fact that the youngest von Ashira had been left in charge of the house, he was away quite frequently. When Wolfram had tried to ask his sister about that, she seemed to be uncomfortable and quickly changed the subject.
At first, the blond planned to just ride next to Halea’s carriage. But, as soon as they had started going down the hill, he realized that there was no way he could keep up without receiving a grave and long-term headache. Resigned, he slowed his horse down. The interpreter fell back into his pace as well, and Wolfram saw the captain of the five guards team leave the side of the carriage. The man rode up to him, was told what had happened and, then, after a few seconds of thought, he sent the interpreter uphill for more guards. That was done with a clipped explanation and a nod for Wolfram. The rather impolite abruptness with which the man had just taken over the interpreter from his disposal irritated the blond.
“He back fast,” the captain said seeing the unconcealed look of discontentment on Wolfram’s face.
Certainly, the blond agreed that the captain had made the most sensible decision under the circumstances, but it wasn’t about that.
“I ride with you until he backs,” the captain said.
Wolfram thought that maybe the man mistook his dissatisfaction for the acute concern for his safety, but a more careful look at the captain’s face told him that the man knew exactly what it was about, knew and just didn’t give a fig. He had done what he had to do. And, if some arrogant top from Shin Makoku had problems with that, he had better suck it up.
Scowling, Wolfram lowered his eyes to stare at his horse’s hypnotically swinging head. Gwendal often told him that he was self-centered. Of course, he was self-centered. He was perfectly aware of that. He was also aware that Gwendal was no less self-centered than he was. Wasn’t that the inborn right of the nobility, after all? What would become of them if the servants started pushing them around? He was both wrong and right. Wolfram knew that as well. The responsibility that came with power would easily crush a lesser man. Self-centeredness, though, had to have its limits because it could – in a different way - crush a person as well.
When their party was already downhill, riding the streets, Wolfram became aware that one look at the dragon on the door of the carriage made everyone pull out of its way hastily. People would scatter aside to let them pass. Carts and carriages would turn aside as well. Two more guards approached the party, but Wolfram hardly noticed the captain leave his side, and the guards and the interpreter joined him as he was more interested in the curiously ornamented houses he was passing on the street.
While they were moving towards the packed square, despite the very cooperative masses, it soon became impossible for the carriage and the guards to pass and the party opted out to walk on foot. It didn’t seem that the guards were worried, and Wolfram guessed that this was a common every year occurrence as well.
What was surprising was that as soon Halea left the carriage, she was greeted with warm smiles and respectful bows from people flowing down the street. After having seen the reaction to the carriage, Wolfram definitely hadn’t expected this.
“It seems the members of von Ashira family are very much loved,” Wolfram told the interpreter, after both of them had climbed down their horses.
The man looked uncomfortable for a moment and then smiled sheepishly, choosing not to comment on his words.
Right. Wolfram couldn’t imagine the duke (or even Athara) getting the same warm treatment and then smiling back and waving his hands to greet and indulge his people like his sister was doing right now. The thought alone made Wolfram snicker. He thought that the earlier reaction to the carriage was more to the truth – the curtains had been drawn nearly all the way and it had been impossible to tell who was riding it – it could have been the duke himself.
The party entered the square and Wolfram’s eyes (and nose) were drawn to rows and rows of food stalls on both sides. Vegetables, fruits, their preserves, various kinds of pies and breads, smoked or roasted fish and meat lined the counters. There were also carvings and fretworks of various statues, most of which Wolfram guessed to be gods and deities. Wooden spoons, ladles, mugs, toys, and jewelry boxes were laid out to show everyone the master’s ingeniousness and skill and/or to bring some income. Many stalls were laden with knitted clothing, laces, and covers. Buckets, baskets, shovels, pitchforks, rakes, and everything else which came in handy in an everyday farmer’s life was possible to find here.
There were also many young amateurs displaying their goods. Some of their wares were poor in quality but, at some of their stalls, there were crowds of interested people as youngsters would sometimes come up with new and interesting ideas. Masters would also leave their stalls to walk over to take a look at their goods, praise, and give a suggestion or two.
There were so many people streaming on both sides that it was hard to pass each other, and the guards around Wolfram and Halea made it even more difficult. Clearly, the festival and fair had also attracted people from surrounding villages and cities. Halea was flitting from one stall to another, oohing and aahing. She never bargained and was quick to draw her purse. Thus, the guards soon were carrying handfuls of bags with her purchases. It seemed that, no matter the country, women had the same inclination for buying.
Halea had lent Wolfram some money in case he wanted to buy something, and, if his interpreter’s wide eyes were any indication, it was a handsome sum. The patterns and designs of wares were different to what he was used to seeing in Shin Makoku, and he examined them with interest. However, the blond hadn’t found anything yet he would want to buy. He lingered more at the stall lined with knifes and daggers. And, then, he went to see the variety of horses at the end of the square. However, to buy a weapon and bring it into von Ashira household would probably count as an insult, and he didn’t need a horse as he was provided with one; he had just been curious.
After noticing that Halea was bored to death by weapons and horses, tactfully, Wolfram followed her back into the world of laces and clothing. He had been surprised, though, when, just before leaving the stall with horses, she bought a mare. She had consulted with the captain, who had chosen the horse himself. As far as Wolfram could tell, it was a good horse – strong and seemingly tough. The thing was that the breed was quite short in height but wide in size. Its appearance could not compare to those of the stallions’ von Ashira family owned. It was a good working horse, but Wolfram couldn’t figure out why Halea would want to buy one. Maybe she would want to use the mare for riding as it was obvious that her wide back would be comfortable for riding.
“Lady von Ashira!”
Halea, Wolfram, and the rest of their party turned to see two women approaching. The guards let them pass and, soon, the three women were exchanging hugs. Both of them were older than Halea but wore equally expensive clothing and were followed by a couple of guards. Wolfram didn’t understand what they were saying but, from the way they were treating Halea, it was obvious that their social standing was lower than Halea’s. They were either some wives or daughters of nobility or successful merchants.
“This is Wolfram von Bielefeld from Shin Makoku.” Halea introduced him to the women in Shin Makoku standard language.
Both women exchanged looks and curtsied, smiling curiously. Wolfram thought that it was the first time they had heard von Bielefeld’s name; they didn’t seem to be impressed. Somehow, he was disappointed.
“These are my friends. Lady Farera Anotan,” Halea nodded at the taller woman. “And Lady Gertrud Koriman.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Wolfram said, bowing. He had a secret hope that the women would decide to go on without him. Instead, Halea’s friends and their guards joined their party. He was subjected to more laces and clothing.
“How long is Sir going to stay in Raizgad?” Lady Anotan asked Wolfram. She flustered when Halea said something to her. She bowed apologetically. “I’m sorry, I mean, ‘Your Highness’.”
Wolfram shrugged it off with an encouraging smile. “Probably a few more weeks.”
Both Lady Anotan and Lady Koriman gave Halea interested looks, and Wolfram groaned mentally, imagining what kinds of things they were thinking. They were probably about to ask when their wedding was going to take place. Luckily, the gong which suddenly echoed throughout the entire square saved Wolfram from more questions and presumptions. Startled, he looked around.
It seemed there had been no place for people where to move, but a narrow path had formed in the middle of the square. Wolfram gave Halea a questioning look, but she just shook her head smiling, and motioned for him to watch.
A woman, holding an armful of untreshed rye and wearing wide red clothing, started walking from the end of the square. Two young girls in white were following her. One was carrying a sickle, the other, a flail. The woman with the rye was singing. Wolfram couldn’t understand the words of the song, but he liked the melody. She was, obviously, a priestess. He could already see the destination of the procession – a white temple amidst wooden village houses.
The crowd behind the priestess was closing, most of the people starting to follow her and the girls down the square into the temple. Wolfram was surprised when Halea and the rest of the party also followed the priestess. All that was left to him was to trail after them.
Inside, the temple seemed smaller than it appeared on the outside. It was made of some kind of white stone. There weren’t many decorations with the exception of the stained glass in the windows and the elaborate altar at the end of the temple. Rows of benches lined its sides, and Halea led the party to the front rows, where they sat down.
Wolfram thought that it was colder inside than outside. The thick walls protected from winds but the stones radiated chilliness. It was usual in stone buildings. Wolfram could remember hours upon hours he had spent in Shin Makoku’s temples.
The priestess had reached the altar where she placed the rye. The girls laid the sickle and the flail on the altar as well. The priestess moved behind the altar and the girls stood at her sides.
“Today we came here to express our gratitude to Aurun for her gifts,” the priestess said, her clear resounding voice echoing in the temple. “Her generosity this year is astounding. Let’s take a few minutes to properly thank her.”
Wolfram watched everyone in the temple lower their heads and close their eyes. For a minute or more, the building sank into silence.
“Aurun was very generous this year,” the priestess’s voice rose again. “I invite you to show her respect and share her gifts with others who are in need of them.”
Wolfram watched people swoop forward and leave offerings all around the altar. Food, coins, clothing, everything went. With fascinated horror, he watched the captain of the guards’ team walk the horse towards the altar and tie her to one of the columns. Two guards carried the bags with Halea’s purchases towards the altar as well. Halea’s lady friends also gave their offerings.
“Is it for charity or will the horse be cut open on that altar in order to please the goddess?” Wolfram asked Halea.
Halea laughed softly. “Every year, during the festival, the city people donate to those in need.”
“How do you decide who is in most need?”
“It’s usually up to me to distribute the goods. I visit the families, talk to the neighbors, and so on. By now I know almost everyone in town,” Halea explained after Wolfram gave her a surprised look. “Eldara used to do it as it is usually the responsibility of the duke or his wife. His methods, though…” she fell silent for a moment. “Well, he said he didn’t want to be responsible for the feuds among the people and, in the end, we decided that I was more suitable for the job.”
Wolfram wondered what exactly had happened for the duke to pass the duty on to his sister. However, after spending quite some time in Eldara’s presence, he got the hunch that maybe the duke had been using the “<i>give a man some fish and he will be fed for a day, give him a rod and he will be fed for a lifetime</i>” principle. Not everyone could understand and approve of that.
“You are probably the most generous donator as well,” Wolfram remarked. It was no wonder the people of the town liked her – she was a savior of sorts.
“I am supposed to show the example,” Halea said.
Wolfram nodded. “You could have told me what this festival was about. I would have bought something as well.”
“Well, you still have the money,” Halea noted with an amused smile on her lips. She gently held Wolfram down by his arm when he wanted to go to the altar. “It’s better, though, to give things instead of money; some people are bad with it.” With her head, she motioned at the door. “It is not too late yet to buy something.”
It was a sensible suggestion, and Wolfram nodded. “I’ll be quick and…”
“Oh, let’s all go together, Sir,” Lady Koriman insisted, smiling brightly. “I’m certain Halea knows best what to choose.”
Wolfram gave Halea a questioning look. “But aren’t you needed here?”
She shook her head. “No, not yet. Everyone will be bringing goods until the evening. I’ll return when it starts darkening.”
In the end, Wolfram bought twelve loaves of bread, five large pieces of ham, three sacks of potatoes, a sack of flour, a basket of cabbage, and four piglets. When they returned to the temple, it had been turned into a neighing, cock-a-doodle-doing, clucking, and oinking barn.
Halea busied herself till midnight: she and the priestess with her girls counted the donations and then discussed the families that were in needed of them. A few men volunteered to lend their carts for delivering heavier goods to the people, and Halea gladly accepted the help. She also sent out two of her guards to distribute. Halea’s friends stayed with her until she was done. Then, everyone dispersed for the night.
Wolfram hadn’t imagined he would stay in the town for such a long time. The repeated circuits amongst the counters filled with varicolored goods and never ceasing noise had given him a headache. Even before returning to the temple for the second time, he had been aware that he had already used up the limit of excitement the doctor had told him about. What he would have liked best was a bed. However, he could not think himself abandoning Halea in the middle of her noble mission. He guessed that Athara had not come in order to avoid the exhausting ordeal. This presumption made Wolfram feel both gracious to Halea and superior to her brother.
By midnight, Wolfram started wincing at every loud sound or harsh movement. The prospect of riding all the way back up to the castle was giving him the shivers. Despite that, when he was on the horse, riding through the sleeping village, he considered the day to be well-spent. Again, he was trailing behind the carriage, only the lamp hanging off the back of the carriage visible.
Wolfram was almost asleep when he heard a suspicious noise ahead. He raised his head to look at a grove in front of him. He couldn’t make out anything amongst the bare trees but the shouts the sound of metal clashing repeated again, and he urged his horse forward. He had to stop quickly as his two bodyguards barred his way. He could see that the guards wanted nothing more than to go and see what happened but they had a duty to protect him.
Wolfram looked back at the scared interpreter. He wondered if ordering the men to stand down would give any results. Probably not – they obeyed von Ashira orders, which stated that they had to keep him out of danger.
“Sir, they want you to head back to the village,” the interpreter said after one of the guards barked something out.
“Well, sure they do,” Wolfram muttered. He turned his horse around and started riding in the direction of the village. At first, it didn’t seem that the soldiers were buying his obedient retreat but, then, they started following him. When they had nearly caught up with Wolfram, he turned around suddenly, slipped past them, and galloped towards the grove. They were a hundred years too early to catch a rider like him, even if his head was pounding like mad.
It had better not be a wheel slipped off its axis, Wolfram thought hazily, shooting into the grove. The duke would not let him live that one down.
Wolfram’s vision was much better than that of Humans but, even then, he had no time to stop his horse, which had galloped onto a body on the ground. All could he do was brace himself for the fall. It wasn’t that bad, though, as he had expected it – the horse tripped and fell onto its side. He flew out of the saddle but he was nearly on the ground by that time, so he rolled over, somehow managed to avoid a tree, and, finally, flopped onto his backside. Ungraceful, but nearly painless, with the exception of his pounding head.
He staggered onto his feet. Now he could clearly hear the shouts for help. He ran forward to the lamp he could see amidst the tress. With the sight of the carriage, his vision was filled with two bodyguards fighting off six men. The coachman was very likely dead, hanging off the seat in a very curious manner. One of the attackers had thrown the carriage door open and was climbing inside. It was obvious that it wasn’t easy to do, though – it seemed that there was a hurricane raging within the carriage, blowing at him, keeping him away. Wolfram could hear Halea screaming inside.
Before Wolfram could think of anything, he instinctively summoned his fire element and sent it towards the fighting men. He was hardly aware that his guards had already caught up with him and had whooshed past him to help fight off the enemy. By the time they had reached the carriage, though, there was no one left to fight off. A huge flaming lion had knocked one of the attackers down along with the entire horse and bit his head off. Its enormous claws slashed another one on the back, throwing him aside like a ragdoll. The third man met his fate with his leg in the lion’s jaws and a sword through his chest. The one who had been climbing into the carriage was speared through by the captain’s sword. The last attacker had tried to run but the lion had caught up. His screams echoed in the grove for a few seconds then died off abruptly. All of this happened in a span of mere eight seconds.
Exhausted, Wolfram leaned against a tree. He could see his lion trotting back towards him, ignoring the guards. It was a huge animal, with its fur flaming brightly, a long mane, and powerful limbs. The danger had passed, and the lion was relaxed like its master. It was the first time Wolfram had summoned such a strong specimen, and he was staring at it in awe.
“Sir?”
Wolfram turned his head to look at the captain. He guessed he didn’t look that good as the man’s face showed concern.
“Sir, alright you?”
Holding onto the tree, Wolfram got to his feet. The captain was just in time to catch the blond when he fell backwards, unconscious. The lion burst into tiny specks of fire and disappeared.
---
Wolfram woke up to soft voices discussing something. When he opened his eyes, he found himself in his usual room in the von Ashira castle. He was in bed, warm and comfortable. He recognized the duke’s voice and turned his head to look at the door. Eldara was talking to the doctor. Wolfram couldn’t understand what they were saying but they were probably discussing him.
The duke saw the emerald-green eyes looking at him. He stopped talking and touched the doctor on his shoulder, motioning with his head at the blond in the bed.
“Good morning, Wolfram,” Eldara greeted.
Wolfram nodded. “Good…” he yawned loudly. “Sorry. Good morning.” One more look at the duke’s face made him wonder. The man seemed to be very concerned about something.
Oh, right, the attack.
“Is Halea alright?”
The duke inclined his head towards the blond. “Yes, she’s perfectly alright. You have my utmost gratitude.”
Wolfram smiled. “Then, I suppose, I have evened the score out.”
Eldara watched him for a few seconds then chuckled lightly. “Yes, you could say so. It seems you have a knack for saving damsels in distress. I didn’t know we have been keeping the score, though,” the duke added, with a tingle in his voice and eyes, and Wolfram couldn’t tell if it was amusement, a warning, or something else.
“How are you feeling?” the doctor asked Wolfram, walking over to the bed.
Tentatively, Wolfram moved his arms and legs. “I think I’m fine,” he said. The blond was aware that the doctor had rudely interrupted right at the moment when he thought that the conversation was getting heavier. It had been, but it had also been getting more interesting and he didn’t mind that.
Wolfram sat up. He found that his upper clothes were gone and what was left were only a shirt and underwear.
“Alright, I will leave you for the examination,” the duke said to Wolfram. “Tell me when you’re done,” he addressed the doctor.
“Of course, Your Grace.”
When the duke left the room, Wolfram motioned at the door with his head. “When did he come back?” he asked the doctor.
“Yesterday in the evening, Sir.”
“So, I slept through the night…” Wolfram muttered.
“No, Sir. You have slept through the night and one more day. We were very worried.”
Wolfram stared at the doctor for a few seconds. “Oh.” The look on the man’s face was genuine and Wolfram could see that they, indeed, had been. “But I feel fine now,” he said, not certain if he was just stating the fact or encouraging the doctor.
“Well, Sir has been warned against exhausting activities. Summoning elements is one of those as well.”
Wolfram wondered if he should offer a snappy comment but then decided that the doctor was just talking for the sake of talking. He had done his duty – had warned him – and it was up to Wolfram what he chose to do with that warning.
“So, as I feel well, can I just get up and go?”
“Yes, Sir. As soon as the examination is over.”
Resigned, Wolfram sagged back into the bedding. He badly wanted to go to the bathroom. “Any news about my suite’s arrival?” he asked when the doctor was holding his head between his hands and turning it this and that way.
“I think I heard that they had finally embarked the ship. His Grace certainly knows more about it.”
Wolfram’s face brightened; he was looking forward to seeing his people. He also, more or less, knew who Gwendal would have chosen to send to Raizgad.
“Alright, I’m done here, Sir. It doesn’t seem that there is something wrong. It was probably just fatigue. But be careful not to overstrain yourself.”
“Yes, I will make certain not to.”
“His Grace will want to talk to Sir,” the doctor said, taking off his stethoscope. “His Grace seems to…” he trailed off. “Well, he has some news from the king.” He gave Wolfram an encouraging look. “It seems it is good news.”
Tbc
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Bloom