Love and War

Disclaimer: I do not own Kyou Kara Maou or any of it’s characters.

Love and War
By Mikage

Chapter Two

‘Immediately’ ended up being an hour later, after the king’s guardian and three advisors took the time to decide who would be the one to broach the subject with the moody young noble. Gwendal opted out of it, stating that he had no business in the affairs of love, and it was quite obvious by the way he said this that he was uncomfortable with the idea of talking to his youngest brother about such things. Günter also felt that he would not be the most useful, as Wolfram had never taken too kindly to him and would be unwilling to speak with the lavender haired man on the topic of the engagement.

Murata agreed to do it but the others stopped him before he could exit the study, claiming he and Wolfram were not nearly close enough to converse on such a serious personal issue. The Sage then suggested that they ask Lady Celi to do it, but Gwendal hesitated and decided that his mother probably wasn’t the one they’d want breaking the news. Having Yuuri do it was also out of the question, as the king was terrified of what his fiancé’s reaction would be, not even wanting to look at the boy until all this had been settled.

In the end it was Conrad who was appointed this particular task. The brown haired soldier wasn’t exactly troubled by this; as long as he remained straight foreword and didn’t “beat around the bush,” so to speak, he figured the conversation would go as smoothly as it possibly could where Wolfram was concerned. The only problem was getting his younger brother to actually listen. They’d come a long way from where they’d been before Yuuri had arrived in this world, when Conrad would try to get close to the younger boy and Wolfram would stubbornly push him away, but there were still walls between them, ones that prevented them from returning to how they’d been as children.

His blond sibling hadn’t always been so headstrong and impetuous, hadn’t always seemed so snobbish and self-centered. He’d been a sweet child, innocent and playful, always smiling and laughing, knowing nothing but happiness. Even then, before the war, the times they’d lived in had been hard and people had feared that things would further escalate with their enemies, that they’d soon know death and destruction. Wolfram had made it possible to forget all that, at least for a little while, as everyone focused their attention on him.

When she hadn’t been busy with her duties as the demon queen, their mother would dress him up and take him to parties where he’d become the center of attention at almost every gathering; no one had been able to resist that small smile and babyish voice. Gwendal - who now refused to admit that he’d had anything to do with their sibling being overindulged - had spent his free time knitting all sorts of animals for him to cuddle and play with; in fact, the blanket Wolfram had been wrapped in seconds after his birth had been made by the older man.

His younger brother had always held a very special place in Conrad’s heart, from the very first moment he’d laid eyes on him until now, despite everything that had happened over the years. The brunet had been with his mother when she’d given birth, and had been the first person, besides Celi and the nursemaid that is, to hold the tiny, wailing baby. After that, he’d made it his responsibility to look out for the little boy, had played with him, read him stories, calmed him down after a bad dream, taught him to read, write, and use a sword. There had been Celi and Gwendal, and the nanny who’d watched out for him when the Queen was busy, but Conrad had really been the one to raise him.

The maids had adored him, baked him special treats every day, cookies and cakes for him to eat in the afternoons once he’d finished his studies. The guards and soldiers, usually so stiff and formal, had lightened up around him, enjoying his youthful chatter and boyish giggles, protecting him from anything that seemed harmful. Guests would fawn over him, gushing and praising Celi for having such a beautiful child. Wolfram had been pampered and coddled, placed high up on a golden pedestal, the epitome of a perfect, well mannered child, with a winning smile and a face that screamed “spoil me.”

So then they’d all been affected, really, when his little brother had changed. Conrad could easily remember the exact moment, for it hadn’t been a gradual transformation at all, but so sudden that he was able to replay the entire, short process in his mind, as clearly and as vividly as if it had happened only an hour ago, when more than fifty years had gone by since then.

It had been night. Gwendal had gone with Dan Hiri, Conrad’s father, to the nameless village, and Celi, Wolfram, and Conrad had patiently waited for their return. Their mother had been out on one of the balconies, leaning against the balustrade with a look of melancholy on her face. Conrad had been leaning back against the open doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, Wolfram only a short distance away, so young and trusting. It had almost been time for the little one to go to bed, when Conrad would take him by the hand and lead him down the hall, help him change into his nightclothes and tuck him in like he did every night when he wasn’t away with his father.

Mother had started talking about the Mazoku and humans, mumbling more to herself than to her two youngest sons. Wolfram had asked why Conrad’s father was so old, when it suddenly slipped out that Dan Hiri Weller was a member of the other race. Already wide green eyes and widened even more, staring at the brunet in disbelief, and a small, frightened voice had asked him if it was true. Conrad had admitted that, yes, his father was a human, he had been created by a Mazoku and one of their enemies, he was a halfling, a hybrid.

He didn’t really know why he’d never told his brother before; perhaps a part of him had assumed that the blond had always known, that his mixed heritage was common knowledge.

“No.”

Wolfram had looked ready to cry, his little hands shaking as his face went completely white. He’d looked petrified, and Conrad, not thinking the boy would take the news so badly, had taken a step towards him to offer comfort, only to watch as Wolfram immediately took a step back, bottom lip trembling. When Conrad tried to draw closer again, his little brother had screamed loud enough to have the guards come running.

“No!! Leave me alone!! Go away!!“

The Queen’s second son had made another attempt at soothing him, but Wolfram took off running, pushing passed anyone who tried to get in his way and dashing down the hall.

Conrad and the guards had followed him, Cecilie close behind, all of them calling out for Wolfram to stop, but the child kept on screaming at the top of his lungs, tears streaming down his face. One of the guards, a young Dakaskos, caught up with him and grabbed hold of him, and Wolfram had lashed out, kicking with his little feet and pounding his tiny fists against the man’s armor. When Conrad called out to him again his screaming just got louder, attracting the attention of nearly everyone in the castle, who bounded down the hall to see what all the commotion was about, worried looks etching across their faces as they saw the state that Wolfram was in.

“Leave me alone!! I hate you!! You’re not my brother!! You’re not!! You’re not!! You’re not!!”

His brother hadn’t calmed down until Celi came and scooped him up into her arms, holding him close and cuddling him against her bosom, and even then Wolfram had cried for hours. Every time green eyes moved to peer at him, Conrad had seen the fear, anger, and betrayal within their depths. His baby brother’s little heart had shattered, his perfect, peaceful world crumbling down around him, and everything he’d thought he’d known ended up being a lie, a farce.

Up until the time of the war, that had been the worst night of Conrad’s life, because he’d lost his little brother, and it had been all his fault.

After that, Wolfram changed. He was no longer the sweet, innocent cherub he’d once been; he probably lost most of his innocence that night, along with his ability to trust. He started throwing vicious tantrums whenever he was denied what he wanted, throwing things around whatever room he was in, destroying a great many priceless vases and glass figurines, once even going so far as to rip the curtains off the wall and smash a window. He’d been virtually uncontrollable those fist few months after he’d found out, to the point where Gwendal had had to stand by his door and keep him locked in his room until he calmed down.

He became spiteful and troublesome, arrogant and easily angered. The maids became afraid to bother him, as they were more likely to get yelled at than have a young child happily thanking them for their milk and cookies. Conrad hadn’t been able to go near him, much lees touch him, without Wolfram screaming or shouting at him, spitting out hateful words that made the brown haired young man flinch away. His brother stopped running to hug him when he returned from his travels, avoided him at all cost, years passing by without gentle smiles and innocent laughter, years without warm embraces and loving words.

And then Yuuri came, full of wide grins and contagious laughter, lifting everyone’s spirits with his compassion and purity, healing them all with his happiness and ideals, his morals and sense of justice. Slowly, ever so slowly, Wolfram began to cool down, and before long the light of trust had returned to his emerald eyes. He was still haughty and sometimes cruel, demanding and selfish, but there was an innocence there that Conrad had not seen in him in a long time. Wolfram allowed himself to hope again, to depend on someone other than himself, and sometimes when he thought no one was looking, Wolfram would smile one of those small, sweet smiles from early childhood, the ones Conrad treasured above all else.

The blond had stopped calling him by his last name, but he still refused to refer to him as ‘little big brother,’ like he had when they’d been children. Wolfram had started to trust in him again, had even seemed to get over the fact that he was half human, but the walls that separated them remained, maybe not as thick as they’d once been, but they were still there, still prevented them from returning to how they’d been long ago. They hadn’t really resolved much of anything, avoided the subject more often than not, as if afraid of reopening old wounds that were finally beginning to close.

Presently his youngest brother was in the courtyard with Greta and little Elle, playing an Earthen game of hopscotch, one Yuuri had taught their daughter to play a few years back. Greta had grown up since then, turning from a small child into a beautiful young lady. At fourteen she was already getting her fair share of admirers, which Conrad knew worried Yuuri a bit, but it was only natural for the young men to flock towards someone as pretty as she had become.

Once short curly brown hair now fell a few inches passed her shoulders, often decorated by various silk ribbons or sparking barrettes made of precious gemstones. She’d sprouted up more than a few inches, almost as tall as her blond father when she wore high heels, and her figure was beginning to fill out, the soft, feminine curves hidden under glamorous dresses fit for any princess. She’d always been somewhat of a strong willed girl to begin with, but her times spent with Anissina had sharpened that trait, making her very independent and self-sufficient.

She was currently trying to explain the game to Elle, Nicola standing close by, watching in amusement, and Hube no where to be seen, having probably gone inside to speak with his cousin. Elle had also aged, though it was difficult to tell if her Mazoku or human blood would eventually take over, or if it would fluctuate throughout her life. She was big for a Mazoku child of four, but small for a human child of the same age, a tiny toddler who was just beginning to master the use of some larger words. She had an uncanny resemblance to her human mother, with the same brown hair and eyes, hardly taking after her tall, dark father at all.

When Elle seemed to find the Earth game of squares, numbers, and a stone too hard to understand, and Greta was having a difficult time explaining it, Wolfram stepped up to teach her by example, and Conrad’s hazel eyes turned to watch him fondly, stopping in his trek towards him for a moment so as not to disrupt the heartwarming scene.

His little brother hadn’t changed much at all since the day Yuuri had arrived. He’d grown out his golden blond hair an inch or two, not as long as their king’s currently was, but longer than he usually wore it, as if hoping it would make him appear a little older, like it did for his black haired fiancé. Unfortunately, the loose curls - accompanied by his wide green eyes and soft facial features - made him look deceptively younger, and it was obvious that not only had he inherited their mother’s breathtaking beauty, but her youthfulness as well. It seemed as if he would always remain of a slight build and small stature.

He was wearing one of his less ostentatious outfits instead of his blue uniform, clothing much more suitable for outdoor play, and the fact that he didn’t have his sword with him, which always seemed to be at his side, was enough proof of how at ease he was with the surroundings and the people that were present. The blond had always been very fond of Greta, though he’d refused to admit that he cared about the human girl when she’d first come along, only to spend his time taking care of her when Yuuri was away. He also had a very soft spot for Elle, and with most young ones for that matter. For someone so impatient and demanding, he was actually very good with children.

He was clothed in a loose, white tunic, a ruffle at the end of each long sleeve. Conrad had never been a big fan of frills and ruffles himself, preferring his simple, khaki colored uniform over something more elaborate, but they were flattering on the blond, adding to the deceiving picture of innocence and vulnerability. The shirt was tucked in to his dark blue pants, white stockings and black shoes covering his calves and feet. It was akin to the outfits he typically wore under his smock, causing Conrad to wonder if his little brother had been painting before joining the younger children in their game.

He watched for a moment as Wolfram demonstrated how to toss the small stone and jump to the correct block, before the brown haired soldier let out a sigh and continued his approach, figuring the sooner he got this over with, the better. He was in agreement with his older brother, Günter, and His Highness about this wedding being necessary, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed watching as both the blond and His Majesty were forced into something they may not be completely comfortable with. The two of them were still too young to have to worry about such things.

“Wolfram!” he called to the fair noble as he drew ever closer, causing him to turn around and face him, his cheeks flushed in a mixture of exertion and embarrassment.

“What do you want?” the blond demanded, seeming annoyed at having been disrupted.

“There’s something important I’d like to discuss with you,” he replied evenly, giving his brother one of his ever present friendly smiles. “Why don’t we go somewhere more private?”

The boy frowned, green eyes narrowing. “Just tell me what it is and go away.”

Fine, if he wanted to be difficult... “It’s about your engagement to His Majesty.”

That had the young mazoku flinching, his hands balling into fists by his sides, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as he cringed. He seemed to know that what the brunet had to say about it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. Of course, more often than not, whenever the subject of the engagement was brought up, regardless of who was speaking about it, it wasn’t what Wolfram wanted to hear. There weren’t many people besides him to took the whole thing seriously. Even Greta had once commented on her dark haired father marrying a woman instead.

“I’ll be right back,” his little brother mumbled to the two girls, then began stalking away, not giving them even a seconds worth of time to reply. He walked towards the lower terrace that looked over the courtyard, far enough away from the children so that they wouldn’t be able to hear them conversing, leaning against the stone railing with his arms crossed over his chest defensively, like they could protect him from anything his older brother had to say.

Conrad followed, taking those few moments to decide what he wanted to say and how he wanted to say it, feeling some pity for the pale skinned young man. He had a feeling this may be a little more difficult than he’d first thought.

“Now,” Wolfram started again, green eyes peering at him in slight curiosity, though the soldier could pick out the weariness within them. “What about it?” he asked, like it wasn’t exactly up for discussion.

“Do you truly intend to marry him?” he slowly began, keeping his voice calm.

A soft snort was the reply. “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here. Besides, that decision isn’t mine to make, is it? Nothing I say or do will have any affect on the matter.”

“Actually, it will.”

One thin, golden eyebrow raised. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve just finished discussing the issue with His Majesty. Gwendal, Günter, His Highness and I think it’s a good idea.”

“Günter does?” Another snort, this one made in disbelief. “That’s surprising,” he observed, turning to watch Greta, Elle, and Nicola, who’d taken his place in helping them. “So, what did the wimp say? That it was an accident? That he has no intention of going through with it?” He tried to sound disinterested, but Conrad knew Wolfram genuinely wished to know.

“He agreed,” the elder of the two said in return, his words causing the blond to tense up again, emerald orbs widening, his mouth falling open as he looked back up at the taller man, surprised. “With things as they are now, it would be a good idea for the king to marry, and since the two of you are already engaged...” He hated to disappoint him, but he couldn’t allow him to get the wrong idea.

“Oh,” Wolfram glanced down, hands gripping tightly to his upper arms, which were still crossed. His shock instantly gave way to anger, and perhaps a little bit of sadness as well. “A marriage of convenience… for the sake of the kingdom...”

“His Majesty doesn’t want to do anything until he knows how you feel about the idea. He doesn’t want you to think you’re being forced into it.”

“In other words, he’s too much of a wimp to tell me ‘no,’ so he’s giving me the opportunity to back out of it! How very noble of him!” His sarcasm was evident.

“He’s taking your feelings into account,” Conrad tried to soothe him, but he knew there really wasn’t anything he could do to alleviate the pain his younger brother was surely going through.

“My feelings?!” the youth was glaring at him, as if accusing him for all of this, like it was somehow his fault. “He knows damn well how I feel!”

“He cares about you.”

“That’s a load of shit.”

“You’re saying it’s not true?”

“I’m saying that... it’s different... from what I feel for him.” Wolfram deflated somewhat at that point, frowning, a sad, hopeless frown that had Conrad feeling even sorrier for him. “If things weren’t as tense as they are now with the humans, you know he wouldn’t even be considering this. If it weren’t such a good political move, he wouldn’t want to hear about it at all. He’d go on ignoring the engagement and act like it had never happened.”

“So you’re in agreement that this would be for the good of the country?” the brown haired half human wondered, a little surprised that the boy hadn’t begun ranting and raving like he was known to do when something displeased him. “Are you willing to do this, Wolfram?” he asked, needing a direct answer. “His Majesty has made it very clear that the final decision is to be left up to you. If you should agree, preparations for the wedding will begin immediately.”

“Will I be made king, too?” the blond questioned, finally uncrossing his arms, pale hands moving to grip onto the terrace railing. Conrad noticed that they were shaking slightly, though he couldn’t tell if it was from nervousness or suppressed anger. “Unless a man can be named Queen, or would they come up with some special title for me?”

“You’d be crowned Prince again,” Conrad replied, looking at his brother closely, watching his every reaction. They’d all been princes before, when their mother had been Queen, but once she’d officially stepped down they had lost the title. With Shinou choosing the king, none of them had been in line for the thrown anyway, so it hadn’t really made much of a difference. Now the title would hold more meaning, as Wolfram would be the equivalent to a Queen, with all the same powers and responsibilities as Yuuri held. “You’d also be heir to the thrown.”

“Of course,” his brother mumbled softly. “The king is half human and the princess is full human. I’ll outlive the both of them.”

“A lot of responsibilities will be placed on your shoulders should you choose to go through with this,” the brunet calmly warned him.

“I know that.”

“His Majesty doesn’t want to force you into anything if you feel you can’t handle it,” he repeated. “He respects your feelings.”

“Too bad he doesn’t understand them.”

This time Conrad smiled softly. “Sometimes I think you give him too little credit. He’s well aware of how you feel about him. I think you make that knowledge fairly obvious.” He almost chuckled, but stopped when Wolfram glared at him. “And, as someone he confides in, I can tell you that he does care for you quite a bit. Maybe it’s not the same as how you feel, but you are very special to him.”

“Everyone is special to him. He doesn’t hate anyone. I’m sure he’d even befriend Belal if he was given the chance.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being compassionate and understanding. The world would certainly be a better place if there were more people like His Majesty.”

“He treats everyone the same. Good or bad... it doesn’t matter. I’m just another person to him.”

“You’re like a brother to him,” Conrad corrected, then winced, knowing it was the wrong choice of words.

“I don’t want to be his brother!” the blond snapped, and the older man could clearly hear the hurt in his voice. “I... I want to be his...”

He didn’t complete his sentence; he didn’t have to. Conrad already knew, had known for a long time, what it was that Wolfram wanted out of their dark haired king. He wanted a relationship, wanted more than friendly smiles and the occasional pat on the back. He wanted something deeper, something more involved, the romance that His Majesty was so deathly afraid of. He wanted the candle-lit dinners and the hand-holding, the love and security that came with being together as more than comrades, more than just king and loyal knight. Wolfram wanted to be his fiancé, his lover, his spouse, the one who was there for him as more than an advisor or protector.

Conrad pitied the younger man, knew almost how he was feeling at the moment. He couldn’t say he’d been in love with Suzannah Julia, not like his brother was with His Majesty, though he’d been closer to her than any other woman besides his mother. To him she’d been like an angel, pure and lovely, someone to worship, protect, fight and care for, but someone he could never have, never touch, and not because she’d been engaged to Adalbert. She’d been his friend, his sister, his star of hope, the shining symbol of his dream for both races to live together as one. He hadn’t been in love with her, but with the type of woman she’d been.

And never, ever had he been given what he wanted, someone like her that he could truly love. Of course there had been others in his past, people he’d had more than a platonic relationship with, but it never felt complete, there’d always been something missing, some piece of the puzzle that he couldn’t find. But whereas he had yet to discover that certain someone, Wolfram already had, only his feelings weren’t being returned. In a sense, Yuuri was the “Julia” in Wolfram’s life (which was ironic, considering the king possessed the woman’s soul). It often times made Conrad wonder if his brother’s feelings would ever be returned, or if Wolfram would one day end up like him.

That was a sad thought.

“Wolfram...” he called quietly to the blond boy, tempted to reach out to him, to comfort him, but knowing he’d only be pushed away. “I need an answer,” he said instead, not wanting to push him, but the others were waiting, and this had to be settled tonight.

“Fine,” Wolfram was still mumbling, and he let out a sad, pitiful sounding sigh. “Tell the wimp I agree.”

“Are you sure?” he asked one more time, and he momentarily wondered why he was giving him the chance to back out of it.

“Do you think I’d say ‘yes’ if I wasn’t? I’m not stupid. I know what I’m doing.”

“Then I’ll inform the others.”

Conrad didn’t turn to leave right away. Before he could stop himself or think better of the idea, his hand had risen to gently stroke Wolfram’s golden hair, brushing a stray lock behind one of his ears, earning a glare in return for his efforts. He smiled sadly and lowered the hand to squeeze one of the boy’s shoulders in reassurance, a little surprised when it wasn’t swatted away, then turned to walk back inside, intent on returning to the study to relay the decision to His Majesty.

Wolfram watched him go, frowning, and when his second brother was out of sight he allowed his body to slide down to the floor of the stone porch, leaning back against the balustrade and bringing his legs up to his chest, circling his arms around them as he rested his forehead against his knees, hiding his face from anyone who may happen to pass him by.

His heart hurt and his eyes stung, but he stubbornly refused to cry. He’d already cried over Yuuri once before. If he allowed himself to do it again, he wasn’t so sure he’d be able to stop.

TBC…