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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
- 14
- 15
- 16
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 Tia Integra
Part 15
Wolfram’s hand hovered indecisively over the letter on the nightstand, and then he dropped his arm back to his side without taking it. He turned over in the bed and snuggled his face into the pillow. He had reread the letter three times already, and that didn’t make its contents change. It was still about a dead horse and beautiful autumns in Kardera. Wolfram had expected more than that. He didn’t know what exactly, but really, something more than that. Damn Yuuri! Even though it was mostly official, in his letter, Gwendal had at least had the decency to ask how his health was. And the worst thing of all was that Wolfram had expected something from Yuuri at all.
For about half an hour, Wolfram rolled about in his bed, fruitlessly trying to fall asleep. Finally, he cursed, tossed the covers off him and got out of the bed. He summoned his fire element so as not to trip over the trunks scattered over the floor while he walked to his bathrobe. Once dressed, he lit an oil lamp and found a bottle of ink and a feather. Extinguishing his fire element, he sat down at the table in the middle of the room. He slapped Yuuri’s letter in front of him then turned it around.
Dear Yuuri, he wrote on the other side.
I am sad to hear Ernesta is dead, but do not worry – I am certain that she is in the horse heaven, living a healthy life, eating plenty of grass and exercising daily. I hope you have more luck with your next horse.
Yes, autumns in Kardera are beautiful, just as you said. It is a pity you are not here and cannot appreciate the sight. Why don’t you come here for a visit? I am certain the duke will be overjoyed to see you, just like the rest of Kardera’s population.
I am doing very well and my health is excellent, thank you for asking. I still cannot control my fire element or use my sword, but who cares? I guess I will not need to fight anyway as I have been told that the duke has promised Orinth the Fifth that he will have his sister marry me.
Best wishes,
Wolfram von Bielefeld
P.S. They make wonderful goose liver pate here. I will be sure to ask for the recipe and send it over.
Content, Wolfram put the feather down and blew on the letter to dry the ink. He folded the letter, capped the ink bottle and went to bed. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he was asleep.
---
Standing in the middle of his room, Wolfram looked at twelve men saluting him. Just as expected, Gwendal had sent best amongst the best. Wolfram knew most of the soldiers. All of them had seen a battle or two.
“At ease,” Wolfram commanded. “I don’t know what Gwendal von Voltaire has told you, however, run his commands – the ones which concern my security – through the duke’s captain. Just so that there aren’t any misunderstandings as to who is responsible for what.” He had addressed Yozak but this was meant for all of his men.
Yozak saluted. “Yes, Sir!”
“Otherwise,” Wolfram continued, feeling foolish about explaining the self-explanatory things to seasoned soldiers, “you take orders only from me and your captain. You are not allowed to raise your sword or use your elements against the citizens of Raizgad unless defending me or yourselves.” Wolfram took in his soldiers again. “And don’t, I repeat, don’t go around provoking the duke’s men. If I hear that any of you has provoked a fight, I will send you straight back to Shin Makoku.” Wolfram straightened. “That’s all. If you see or hear something strange going on, inform your captain.”
“Yes, Sir!”
“Dismissed.” Wolfram waited for the soldiers to file out of the room. Absently, he glanced at the table. Then he checked again. And then he double-checked.
“Yozak?” Wolfram asked the captain once the door was closed.
“Yes?”
“What happened to the letter?”
“What letter?”
“The one which was on the table this morning.”
“Ah, the one addressed to His Majesty?”
“Yes, that one.”
“I told one of my men to give it to the messenger.”
“You what?” Wolfram’s face suddenly flushed such brilliant red that Yozak stepped back from the unexpectedness of it.
“Was I not supposed to?”
Wolfram stood in front of Yozak to look the large man squarely in his eyes. “Did you really send it?”
“Oh, yes.” Yozak grinned at the red-faced man. “It was a masterpiece.”
“Oh, you…!” Wolfram growled, punching Yozak in the arm.
“Ow! Ow!” Yozak yowled, jumping around, even though he had hardly felt the punch.
Wolfram gave him an annoyed look. “It was just something I wrote down on the spur of the moment, you idiot. And you just had to…” He shook his head, not finishing. Instead, he started rubbing at his forehead and then let out a frustrated sigh. He was going to die of shame. Or maybe Yuuri would not understand the sarcasm at all? But no, Yuuri wasn’t stupid, just naïve. And then he would wonder why he received a reply like that. Wonder and understand that Wolfram had wanted more affection.
“Maybe we can still get it back?” Wolfram said hopefully, walking toward the door.
“I told the messenger to hurry up.”
Wolfram was suddenly overtaken by an urge to strangle Yozak. Even though it would probably amuse Eldara to no end, getting into a fight with the captain of his bodyguards’ team would just be disgraceful. He could write one more letter. But what would he say? ‘Please, don’t read the first letter’? Or: ‘I was just kidding’? Irritated, Wolfram waved his hands about as if to get rid of a particularly annoying fly. Whatever. Let him read it; even if it had only been an outlet for his frustration, it was real. He could already see Yuuri’s red face. Certainly, Gwendal would also want to read the letter in case there’s some essential information. Gwendal, given his nature, wouldn’t say a word, but Yuuri was going to see it all on his face.
---
Comfortably leaning against the sofa, Wolfram listened to the sounds of music flowing from the piano Halea was playing. All of them, the duke and his siblings, and von Sarda, had just had dinner and were lounging in the music room.
With satisfaction, the duke watched Wolfram reach out for the tray on the table and take another slice of bread with goose liver pate. He had noticed that the blond was particularly keen on it. Wolfram caught his eyes and gave him a questioning look. Then realization lit up his face, and with that, a light blush tinged his cheeks: he remembered how he had stuffed his face with the pate two days ago; since then, the pate was always present on the table.
“Is it to your liking?” the duke asked when, as if on cue, Wolfram continued to stare at him without moving.
Wolfram looked at the slice of bread in his hand. Well, it was not as if the duke couldn’t afford it. Wolfram’s teeth bit into the bread and pate. “Yes, it’s fantastic. Thank you very much.”
“My pleasure.”
“You would be a very expensive man to keep,” Athara commented, with a chuckle.
Wolfram’s head, together with the slice between his teeth, turned to stare at Athara. So did everyone else’s in the room. Chewing numbly, Wolfram saw how flustered the younger male became when he realized his intercultural faux pas. Wolfram figured that it was pretty common in Kardera, but he never had anyone say something like that to him. Besides, Athara did spend a few years in Shin Makoku.
“Even a king couldn’t afford to keep you after all,” Athara laughed, hoping to correct his mistake and lighten the mood. He froze at the irate look on the blond’s face.
Eldara could see that Wolfram was considering launching the tray of pate at his brother’s face. Any reference to his and his former fiancé’s relationship was taboo for the blond. And additionally, even if not intended, the remark insulted his pride.
“Athara, can you get the wine, please?” the duke asked.
Relieved and grateful for the distraction, Athara sprung to his feet. “Certainly,” he said, walking over to the cabinet near the window. “White or…?”
“Could you go and get the bottle of Lene Arden from my study?” Eldara asked, aware that the blond would require much more time to cool off than for Athara to reach the cabinet.
“Well, certainly,” Athara said, slipping out of the room as fast as he could. He was going to take his time coming back, though.
Von Sarda was obviously confused, his gaze now going alternately from Wolfram and, as the other party involved in the incident wasn’t available, to the duke and then to Wolfram again. He decided not to ask. Halea was either oblivious to them or decided to ignore them and simply continued playing the piano.
Wolfram’s attention returned to the slice in his fingers. He sank his teeth into it then chewed thoroughly.
“So you wouldn’t want your lover to spend too much money on you, would you?” Eldara said, when he thought it was safe to speak.
Wolfram gave him a look. Eldara was correcting his brother’s lapse by putting the question in a different way. He needn’t have worried, though, as Wolfram anger had already started to simmer down.
“No, he wouldn’t need to shower me with gifts every day,” Wolfram said after a moment’s thought. Yuuri had never given him any presents. Unless he counted the bouquet of flowers he gave him on his nineteenth birthday, and even then the flowers had been picked by one of the maids. “I’m more interested in insubstantial things,” Wolfram said, and realized that he was covering for Yuuri’s behavior again; by this time it had developed into a habit. Without doubt, he would have liked for Yuuri to present him with something, anything, of his own volition just to show that he cared.
Wolfram suddenly wished for Athara to hurry up with the wine.
Eldara wondered if Wolfram had noticed how readily he had used the pronoun “he”, making it clear which sex he preferred. The blond probably didn’t realize that, as, all of a sudden, for some reason, he seemed to have sunk into depression. And if he did notice, he was very good at hiding it. Von Sarda was not very adept at Shin Makoku’s dialects, and there was a chance it had slipped past his ears. Halea, though, not ceasing to softly press the piano keys, was curiously watching Wolfram.
Athara returned with a bottle of Lene Arden, and soon their glasses were filled. The wine was sweet, just how Wolfram liked it. Absently listening to the conversations floating around him, he set on methodically annihilating the tray of the pate.
“Would you like to go for a walk, Wolfram?” the duke asked him after having watched von Sarda fill the blond’s glass again and again. If nobody stopped him, Wolfram was going to be sick.
Turning his head to stare at the window, Wolfram appeared to wonder if the duke was in his right mind. “It’s nearly nine o’clock,” he said. “It’s dark and cold.”
“Some exercise is very useful for digestion,” Eldara insisted at the sight of the blond eyeing the bottle. “Besides, a gulp of fresh air is just what one needs before going to sleep.”
“Is it?” Wolfram drawled moodily, not showing any intention of moving from the sofa. “I think need a gulp of something else.” He held out his empty glass for von Sarda to fill.
Von Sarda gave Eldara a perplexed look, and the duke shook his head discreetly.
“You should probably stop drinking already,” Halea said to Wolfram, aware that the men were just helplessly watching the blond getting drunk out of his head. They couldn’t say anything to Wolfram directly as, in the state he was in, the blond would just take it as a challenge or an attempt to patronize him. A word of caution from a woman worked in a different way.
“Why?” Wolfram asked sulkily. “I…”
“Because you will be sick later,” the duke interrupted him, before he could start babbling. Up until now, the blond had been drinking himself into depression in silence. However, if he started talking, only the gods knew what his drunken mind would throw up. It would have been fine if only him and his siblings were present, but von Sarda was not someone who Wolfram would want to disclose his secrets to.
Wolfram lowered his glass to the table noisily. He had an insulted air about him, and Eldara braced himself for a tirade. Wolfram stood up quickly, and then almost folded over to the table. Von Sarda, who was sitting closest to the blond, grabbed him and pulled him away and back onto the sofa.
“Here you go,” he said, helping Wolfram lean against the backrest. The blond appeared to be ridiculously surprised at how his body had been enslaved by gravity. His face turned more and more ashen by the second.
With a soft sigh, Eldara stood up. “And yet we will take that walk, Wolfram. Stand up,” he said, motioning for von Sarda to move aside.
“I don’t think he can walk…” Athara said doubtfully.
Eldara waved that off. “Oh, he can.” He held out his hand for Wolfram, who now gazed at it blankly. When Wolfram took no action, the duke wrapped his arm around the blond’s shoulders and simply tugged him up. Wolfram staggered, swayed, then gave in and leaned against the duke in order to keep his balance. Eldara started leading him towards the door.
“Where are you taking him?” Athara asked.
“To the corridor. It should be cooler there. And then maybe we’ll need a visit to the bathroom,” the duke added, seeing how Wolfram’s face was still pale.
Once Eldara and Wolfram left the room, Yozak rushed towards them. He and two other men from Wolfram’s suite had been waiting outside the music room. Yozak wanted to be present in the music room, but Wolfram had deduced, and rightly so, that, chatting and drinking while surrounded by his guards, he would appear ridiculously paranoid.
“Your Highness! What happened?” Yozak was worried at the sight of Wolfram’s shaky steps and the duke’s arm around his shoulders. “Are you alright?” He grabbed at Wolfram’s arm.
“I’m fine,” Wolfram said, pushing Yozak away from him. “Let go of me!” he demanded, trying to pry his arm from Yozak’s grip, but the man didn’t let go.
Yozak frowned at the smell wafting from the blond; he was drunk. Then he saw the duke watching him with interest. Quickly, he retracted his hand from Wolfram.
“He’s alright. He just needs some fresh air,” Eldara said after noticing Yozak secretly give him a rather wary look. The man didn’t trust him one bit and was unwilling to leave the blond in his care. He probably believed that he had gotten Wolfram drunk on purpose. Since the very first minute he arrived at the castle, Yozak started playing the befitting role of an obsessed guard dog.
Eldara smiled politely, and, ignoring the captain, started leading Wolfram down the corridor. The sound of multiple footsteps behind his back indicated that Yozak and his men were following them. Wolfram was heavy and was staggering, which made it pretty difficult to steer him, and Eldara thought that he wouldn’t mind the captain helping him out. He hadn’t expected the blond to weigh so much. Wolfram looked deceptively light; he also looked smaller than he actually was. Already during the incident in the baths, Eldara noticed that he was one of those people who looked slender in clothing, and were buff without. Now, with good nourishing, the fact was even more obvious.
The blond had grown quite a lot since he had seen him last in Shin Makoku and was still growing. The proof was the clothes which Wolfram said didn’t fit him anymore. He got the impression that the blond had been oblivious to his sudden growth.
They reached the end of the corridor and then filed into the lobby. It was cooler here, and the duke made Wolfram lean on the windowsill next to the door leading outside. Wolfram closed his eyes and kept quiet, which indicated that he indeed didn’t feel very well.
“Do you need to go to the bathroom?” Eldara asked, when Wolfram’s face became a shade whiter.
Wolfram nodded quickly. He pushed himself off the windowsill and trudged in the direction of the bathroom. The lobby was spinning lightly but he was proud he was managing to walk on his own. He felt relieved when he turned left into the corridor leading to the bathroom, as the narrower space made his head spin less.
“No.” Eldara grabbed the blond’s shoulder and tugged him backwards, nearly making him topple over. He looked flustered when Wolfram gave him an astonished look. Removing his hand and smiling apologetically, the duke cleared his throat. “Wrong door.”
Wolfram turned his head to look at the door in front of him. Then he looked ahead in the corridor. He had confused the doors, but the duke’s reaction… “What’s in there?” Wolfram asked. Carefully, he turned around to face Eldara.
“My most prized collection.”
Wolfram looked at him with skeptical eyes, and the duke wondered how he could even think when he was so drunk; the youngster could hardly stand on his feet.
“Collection of what?” the blond asked.
“Of butterflies,” Eldara said. “Any stronger draft might shatter them to pieces.”
“Oh,” Wolfram exhaled, his shoulders sagging in disappointment. He turned to eye the door again. “I’d still like to see it.”
“Well, certainly,” the duke agreed. “But not today.”
Wolfram moved along the corridor and they reached the bathroom door.
“Do you need help?” Eldara asked when the blond reached out for the door handle.
Grinning, Wolfram turned around. “I am certain that I can manage on my own, Your Grace,” he said.
Ignoring the mockery, Eldara nodded. Leaving the blond in his guards’ care, he turned around and headed back to the music room. In the music room, Halea had stopped playing the piano. She and von Sarda were conversing about seafaring. It seemed that Halea had mentioned that she had never been on a ship because sailors in Kardera were superstitious about women on board: they believed that women only brought bad luck, such as storms or a calm sea. Von Sarda had used this opportunity to invite Halea to his ship. This was obviously going to happen only in summer, which made it nearly half a year of wait, but Fredrick was most enthusiastic. This gesture at least showed that he expected his and Halea’s relationship last that long.
The thought about ships led Eldara into a contemplation of Wolfram’s journey home. The blond had admitted to him that he hated traveling by sea and everything that had anything to do with it. The journey home was going to be a torture as well. But nothing could be done, though, as, even if not so far away, Kardera and Shin Makoku were on two different continents.
Eldara stiffened. He suddenly had a hunch. The glasses on the table clattered when he caught a corner of it while jumping to his feet. Everyone’s eyes shot to him.
“Wolfram! The vault!” Eldara spat quickly. He rushed out of the room as if his hair was on fire. After a few seconds of shock, Athara, who gasped and whose expression turned worried, rushed out after him.
Not ceasing to curse himself, the duke ran down the corridor, all the way across the lobby, and towards the vault. Just as he suspected, he saw the blond and his men standing at its door.
“Don’t open the door!” Eldara shouted, still running.
Wolfram turned around to offer him a sly grin of a drunken idiot. The guard who had tinkered with the lock moved away from the door allowing for Wolfram to pass and Wolfram reached out for the handle.
Eldara didn’t slow down even when Wolfram’s guards became nervous and stepped forward with the intention to bar his way. He rammed his elbow against the first guard’s chest, knocking him backwards and into the wall. His foot caught the second guard in the stomach, making him double over in a coughing fit. Eldara grabbed the blond’s waist and, kicking the door to the vault shut, rolled them away from the door.
Wolfram lay limp in his arms, and a pang of panic shot through Eldara’s stomach – had he knocked Wolfram’s head against the hard floor? Then the duke heard someone retching. He raised his head to see Yozak vomiting his dinner onto the carpet. Eldara felt relief flood through him.
“Call the nurse quickly, and send for the doctor!” he shouted when Athara ran into the corridor and skidded to a halt at the macabre sight in front of him.
The duke kneeled, then, while firmly holding the blond in his arms, stood up. “I will take him back to his room,” he said.
One of Wolfram’s guards was kneeling, holding his stomach, staring at Eldara while his hand was on the hilt of his sword. He was not certain what was going on. The second guard had already drawn his sword and blocked the duke’s way. To tell him to step aside would be unwise as Eldara had bodily attacked both of them, and their captain was down in seizures. They were staring at von Bielefeld in the duke’s arms.
The sound of running feet came from farther down the corridor and then Wolfram’s and Eldara’s guards showed up. The sight made them freeze on the spot and they thought nothing of Athara running past them. They let the youngest von Ashira through. Then, suddenly, the mixed mass of guards divided to two groups with drawn swords. They stared at each other threateningly, waiting for orders.
“It’s a case of Esoteric Stone poisoning,” Eldara said, aware that there was no other way to stop this other than explaining what happened. “Behind that door,” he said, motioning at the door with his head, “lies the biggest collection of Esoteric Stones in the world.” He started walking past one of Wolfram’s irresolute guard that barred his way. The guard was forced to lower his sword or risk cutting either his lord or the duke.
With his head, Eldara motioned at the convulsing Yozak on the floor and the guard he had kicked in the stomach. “Take care of them,” he said. “Muna, Ron, and you two,” he ordered, pointing at Wolfram’s two random guards, “come with me to His Highness’ chamber.” This way both sides should be assured.
---
Eldara heard Wolfram sigh softly, and then the bed creaked when the blond turned to his right side. The doctor had said that von Bielefeld should recover quickly and with no lasting after-affects. The doctor wasn’t certain which would take longer – for the blond to sleep off the alcohol or for his body to recover from the shock.
Precisely, the sudden stupor Wolfram had experienced prevented him from receiving serious damage – the blond’s body simply shut down from receiving the enormous amount of raw energy (unlike Yozak, who still felt sick and trembled all over). Keeping in mind that the captain was a half-Demon, Eldara hadn’t expected the Esoteric Stones to affect him so much. However, it was hard to tell with half-Demons: sometimes they didn’t react to Esoteric Stones; sometimes they reacted just as strongly as full-blooded Demons; and sometimes they said that they had various allergic reactions such as rashes or sneezing.
Wolfram sighed one more time and it vibrated throughout the room, which made Eldara shake his head. The saying “curiosity killed the cat” was most fitting here. He should have known that any attempt to hide anything would pique the blond’s curiosity and suspicion. Maybe if he hadn’t been drunk, he wouldn’t have tried to break into the vault; Wolfram had obviously thought of it as a joke and wanted to amuse himself.
Eldara had started collecting Esoteric Stones as soon as the war with Demons had ended. There had been hundreds of Esoteric weapons in various shapes and colors. Nearly every nation had its own way of fighting the Demons. In the beginning, Eldara was mostly driven by curiosity but later by an obsessive need of a collector. It had also been a challenge to think of a suitable way to store so much raw energy in a way it would not radiate through walls. He didn’t advertise his hobby, and there weren’t many people who knew about it. It was not something he wanted others to know about, especially not Demons.
Wolfram grunted again. Eldara stood up and pushed his chair back to the table it belonged to. He hoped that the blond was going to be fully functioning in the morning. The two of them had a visitor to meet.
Tbc
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Bloom