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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
- 35
- 36
- 37
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 – 21. Eldara – 32. Halea – 20. Athara – 18. Gwendal – 54.
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 bishie82
Part 36
Black tufts of smoke could be seen rising from afar. When the party reached the village, they were met by the sight of burnt houses and huts. Only few dwellings had escaped the fire. Some walls were still scintillating in the cold wintry air. Corpses lay on the snowy, arrow-straight street. Children could be heard crying.
At first, the survivors fled, then their panic stricken minds recognized the uniforms with von Ashira coats of arms and they started gathering from behind nooks and corners. Anger, fury and groans filled with pain and misery echoed in the air. There were mostly women, old people and children in the village, men having marched out with the duke to Lasker.
“That way!”
Wolfram turned his head in the direction a furious woman was pointing at. It was going to be easy to follow the trail in the snow, as long as it didn’t start snowing.
“They went east!” added a girl no older than seven.
“Kill those bastards!”
“Pull their eyes out!”
“How many are they?” Yozak asked.
“Seven. They went that way!”
“Weapons?”
“Axes and a crossbow,” an old man said from behind the gathering crowd. Slowly, he started making his way forward.
“Are you the elder of the village?” Yozak asked.
“Yes, Sir. They left about two hours ago. They won’t be fast with all the loot, and the hove prints will be deep.”
Yozak nodded. He motioned for the men to gather up and urged his horse towards the midst of them. “Let’s go.”
“Stay with them and help them take care of the wounded,” Wolfram told Conrart. He turned to the duke’s men that had followed him. “You, and you,” he said, pointing. “Stay as well.”
“Wolfram…” Conrart started saying.
The blond raised his hand, indicating, that he was not going to discuss this.
They rode past the houses. Most of the food supplies were stolen, and with no place to live, the people were going to starve and freeze to death. If there were more men, they could go hunting but, as it was now, the best they could do was to set snares. Certainly, neighbors or neighboring villages would accept them but to feed additional mouths would be a great hurdle for all to overcome.
They reached the end of the village, and Wolfram turned his head to the side where a young girl was trying to revive an old woman, who was probably her grandmother. There was a bloody smudge extending from under the old woman’s back. The snow around them was soaked with red. She probably had been hacked while she had been unsuccessfully trying to defend her granddaughter’s honor. The girl was hysterical, her face puffed out both with tears and bruises.
The gruesome sight disappeared behind the ruins of their house, and Wolfram urged his horse forward to catch up with the others. At the sight of the familiar uniforms, a few women had appeared from the forest and ran to them for help. They were sent back to the village, where they still had to see the whole extent of the damage that the settlement had undergone.
Just as expected, it was easy to follow the trail. The hove prints in the snow were clearly discernible and only the increasing afternoon winds were threatening to erase the tracks. The trail led deep into the forest. There were many firs and pines. And, even though many trees were leafless, there were still enough places to hide. They had to find the bandits before it became dark. They had two or three hours of sunlight left.
Wolfram had taken two earth-wielders with him. He was soon informed about a group of heavy bodies in the west. Hoping that it was not a herd of moose or deer, the party sent out scouts and turned west.
It appeared that the bandits had an underground bunker that was guarded by a lookout. After he was quietly removed, Wolfram’s men started searching for the entrance. They found it fast, but Wolfram didn’t allow anyone to open the trapdoor.
“Just smoke them out of there,” Wolfram told his earth-wielders. He didn’t want to put his men in danger. “Kill them at once if they resist.”
The men jumped off their horses and pressed their palms to the snowy moss. The ground started shaking, lumps of it jumping into the air, spitting out fountains of snow and moss. Screams and terrified neighing rose from under the ground. Suddenly, the trapdoor opened and a man shot out of it. He stared at the uniformed men then turned and ran. He was caught by a spear of ice in the back that had been thrown by one of Wolfram’s men.
Some fled and were killed, others died squashed by the lumps of earth. When it was clear that all of them were dead, the earth-wielders removed the soil from the bunker and the stolen goods were recovered. Six horses, albeit very scared, appeared to be unscathed.
Amazed, Yozak was walking around the contours of the bunker, wondering how long it had taken to dig out such a large construction without the assistance of earth-wielders. He turned his head at a yelp and a loud curse one of his men spat at a horse that had kicked him. They were walking the beasts around, trying to calm them down.
“Broke anything?” he asked, concerned.
“No, sir,” Morgan spat, rubbing his throbbing leg. “Why don’t I just kill it and make some nice roast back in the village?”
“Horse meat?” Yozak’s head swung back and forth while considering the idea. Morgan Hurbert had quite an annoying trait of never making it clear when he was joking or being serious. His cheerful demeanor was deceiving, but Yozak felt that they were kindred souls. Morgan was a very peculiar man, a very dangerous man that wielded air masterfully and was deadly with his sword. There had been some resistance from the higher ranks before he was accepted into the Elite Guards. Morgan, however, had proved himself to be extremely loyal to the von Christ House. And, despite all the gloomy forecasts, he appeared to get along well with fellow guards. There was a rumor floating that he was a bastard son to Emanuel von Christ, but that was probably only a rumor.
“Do you intend to carry it all the way back to the village?” Yozak chuckled, amused. “No, we keep it alive. We might need it later. Who knows how long this situation will last,” he added not in such a cheerful voice. There had been a time when he had to survive on rats and lizards.
“Right you are, sir,” Morgan agreed without a fuss. He watched the captain ride up to von Bielefeld then turned away and rubbed his leg again. His leg hurt, and he motioned for one of Ine’s men to take the accursed horse over. His silent request was accepted without a complaint and he limped to a tree to lean against it and wait for the pain to subside.
“What do we do with the corpses?” Yozak asked Wolfram while staring at the pile of dead bodies. “Ine said they were to be hanged.”
“They seem pretty well hanged to me,” Wolfram said, turning his horse around. “Just leave them for the animals to feast on. The winter’s been pretty harsh.”
“It’s not really good for them to get used to human meat,” Yozak advised the younger man. “They may start attacking random villagers.”
With a sigh, Wolfram turned around. He snapped his fingers and the pile of dead bodies flamed up. “Happy now?”
Yozak nodded. “Almost, Karela will be pissed we didn’t hang them in the square.”
“You deal with him.”
Yozak sighed. “It doesn’t really go that way.”
They reached the village when it was already dark. Now there were more people gathering around the fire in the middle of the village. At the sight of an incoming group of riders, some of them fled again. Most though, who were calmed down by the elder, stayed. Yozak and the others took the bags off their horses and carried them to the fire for the villagers to sort them out. Combined cheers and curses erupted from the people. The people then rushed to the bags in hopes of recovering their goods, but a swish of air stopped them. Yozak gave Morgan a thankful nod and motioned for the elder to approach. If not handled carefully, this might turn into a riot. Many times he had seen people lose their minds when flocked together into mobs. Leaving Morgan and the elder responsible for the redistribution of the goods, Yozak went to see how the other men were doing.
“How are things on your end?” Yozak asked Conrart, who was busy bandaging an old woman’s hand further down on a bench.
“We sent for a doctor in the neighboring village,” Conrart answered. “I tried talking them into returning to their homes to warm up and calm down, but they are too worked up.”
“I’d be worked up too,” Yozak spat. “What homes? Half of them don’t even have homes anymore. Damn, I’d be worked up enough to go into the woods and skewer them one by one.”
“All of them dead?”
“We killed all we could find.”
Conrart nodded. “No trouble?”
“None whatsoever.”
“He said they were to be hanged.”
Yozak gave Conrart a morose look. “I know perfectly well what he said, but Wolfram’s orders were clear, too.”
“Oh, boy.”
“You can say that again.”
Wolfram looked around through the recovering village. His eyes set on the same raped girl, who was still kneeling at her dead grandmother’s side. She was wearing a coat now and they had been moved to the fire so as not to freeze but there was a muddle of blood mixing with water underneath them. Wolfram turned to give the elder a questioning look. The man had trouble walking and had to always use a stick but he immediately rushed over.
“Sir, we tried to get her into a house to warm up but she keeps screaming and fighting,” he explained quickly.
“I’m afraid something got addled in her head, Sir.”
Wolfram stared at him then called for Yozak. “What’s he saying?”
“No surprises here,” Wolfram muttered when it was translated to him. “What’s her name?”
“Amaljea Oilira.”
Wolfram tried to repeat the name but gave up without even reaching the surname. Wondering if he was doing the right thing, he turned to his guards. “We will take Ana to the castle. Tie her up if needed.”
“Taking her there by force will only make things worse,” Conrart protested.
“It probably will,” Wolfram agreed. “Do you want to leave her here to freeze to death?” He saw his brother’s lips press into a tiny dash but heard no protest.
Finally, at about nine in the evening, Wolfram decided that there was no reason for him or his men to stay in the village any longer. They thought that they’d really have to tie Ana up but Yozak’s deft fingers pressed against her carotid artery and she immediately slumped down, motionless. Yozak was also the one who got the troubling task of carrying Amaljea all the way to the castle and make sure she didn’t escape.
Before leaving, Wolfram took the elder further away from the fire and pressed five gold pieces into his hand.
“Make sure you use them wisely,” he said. With his head, he motioned for Conrart to translate. “I’ll visit your village again to see what has become of it.”
The elder pressed his fingers into a fist around the coins and gave a deep bow. “I won’t disappoint you, Sir.”
Von Bielefeld smiled at him, his eyes hard. “Make sure you don’t.”
- - -
They returned to the castle past midnight. Amaljea regained her consciousness in the middle of the journey and didn’t stop crying ever since. Once in the castle, Wolfram left her in the care of the maids. Amaljea turned hysterical while the maids were washing her. Only when she was put to bed, half-washed and half-naked, did she cry herself into some kind of stupor and quieted down.
- - -
Sitting in his chair, Wolfram blinked at the doctor and rubbed at his eyes. The blond was wearing a bathrobe and long woolen socks. It was nine in the morning, but he still felt that he lacked sleep. It had to be due to yesterday’s experiences.
It the early morning, one of the maids was sent for a doctor. And, since Wolfram was responsible for housing the ill-fated girl in the castle, the doctor had come to report to him about the patient’s health.
“Yes?” Wolfram inquired as the doctor was silent.
Roldan shook his head at first then shrugged his shoulders. “Physically, she’s alright. Mentally… The only thing that can help her is time, Sir, time and considerate people around her. It would be best to return her into familiar milieu. She’s experienced a huge shock and she’s amongst strangers now, which doesn’t improve the situation at all.”
“I was informed that all of her relatives are dead.”
“That’s very unfortunate, sir.”
“Indeed. She will stay in the castle until further notice.”
The doctor hid his smile and bowed his head. “Yes, Sir.” He was not a person von Bielefeld needed to discuss the girl’s stay with. He was just a doctor and he didn’t need convincing. Who needed convincing were Athara von Ashira and Karela Ine. The blond had housed a stranger without having consulted them. This was a serious breach in protocol. The doctor, though, was certain that neither the captain nor the youngest von Ashira would mind.
With a respectful bow, the doctor left the room. As soon as he left von Bielefeld’s chamber, he was intercepted by a maid, who asked him to visit Halea von Ashira.
- - -
“Sir, what do you intend to do with that woman?” Yozak asked Wolfram while all of them were sitting at the breakfast table.
Athara and the rest of the household turned to the blond since they also wanted to know that. Faced with so many questioning and curious gazes, Wolfram felt somewhat uncertain.
“Um… Well, she needs to get better first and then we’ll see. There’s no place for her in the village right now.”
“Will there be a place for her later, Sir?”
Wolfram nearly glared at Yozak. “Of course, there won’t be. But, in summer, when everything starts growing, an additional mouth to feed won’t be as painful for the villagers.”
“Well, she can stay until summer,” Athara gave his permission, “but if the unrest lasts, soon we’ll also feel the consequences. The food supplies are wearing thin everywhere.”
“Yesterday’s robbery will become a routine in the next following weeks,” Conrart agreed.
Athara nodded grimly.
“It would have been a warning for others if they were hanged in the square,” Karela said.
The atmosphere at the table cooled considerably.
“Indeed,” Wolfram agreed when Yozak translated for him. “Such a pity I didn’t want to risk my men’s lives and killed them on the spot.”
Karela Ine rolled his eyes. He had expected the blond would come up with some thrifty excuse as Eldara often did. Wolfram, however, was sarcastically direct to the point. He wondered whether it was worth arguing, and then pretended to be lost in translation. He nodded at Wolfram and saluted him with his glass. A pain in the butt.

ooOoOoOoo
During the next two months all the gravest predictions came true. In order to sustain troops the food supplies thinned out everywhere in the country. Villages and even bigger towns found themselves fighting off robbers. Wolfram rode out many times so as to restore the order and try to catch the bandits.
The whole household waited for Eldara’s every letter with baited breath. Every time it came, it was as if even the walls breathed a sigh of relief.
There had been, however, only one real threat to Raizgad during this chaos. The Duke of Arklend informed the von Ashiras that there was an army gathering outside his borders. The army, though, had never moved past them as it was pulled back to defend the capital. And, five days later, it was suddenly over.
Ivera von Mandoza declared himself Orinth VI and beheaded his brother for treason, killing his sons, exiling the rest of the family and thus ending the almost three-month civil war. The opposing noblemen either were executed or surrendered and were hanged anyway.
ooOoOoOoo
When Duke of Raizgad and his troops entered through the gates of his city, they were met by cheers of the crowding people. The duke was their defender and supporter of the rightful heir to the throne. However, what was most important was that he had returned victorious, even though the ranks of his troops had thinned considerably.
The cheering crowd swallowed returning husbands, fathers, and sons. The army had already been dismissed on their way back, men leaving back for their villages and cities. Now, in the mass of mingling people and continuously crumbling troops, those who weren’t certain they still had anyone to wait for, followed the duke and his bodyguards up the hill and to the castle only to be stopped by the closing gate. They still left with hope that maybe their relatives had been injured and were going to reach Raizgad later.
The news of Eldara’s return had reached the household two days prior and everyone had been waiting for his return. At the sight of her tired brother, Halea ran down the steps and nearly pulled him off the horse. The rest of the household surrounded him, and he greeted everyone with nods and a weary smile.
“You’ll get lice or fleas or whatever else I have,” he said, bending down and gently pushing Halea away from the horse.
“I don’t care!”
Chuckling, he slid off the horse and threw the reins to one of his bodyguards. He grabbed Halea into a hug.
During the over two-month’s absence, Eldara’s hair had grown considerably and now was tied into a ponytail, using a common rope that probably came from a sack with oats. He was also wearing a few weeks’ worth of mustache. His coat, that he had unbuttoned, and the uniform underneath were dirty, blotched with dark spots. When Wolfram approached closer, he was hit by the stench of sweat, dirt, and blood.
“Your Grace,” Wolfram greeted, suddenly wishing he had ridden out with the man to quench the resistance. The feeling was so intense that he gritted his teeth unconsciously.
“Your Highness,” the duke answered just as formally.
“Welcome back.” Wolfram grinned and was given the matching grin by Eldara.
“Thank you.”
“So what do you want first?” Athara asked his brother. “Food or bath?”
“Sleep,” Eldara answered at once. He looked at himself. “But a bath will have to come first.”
Once inside the castle, Salt, the duke’s cat, met him with unshakable apathy, seemingly without even realizing that his master had been away. Interested, he sniffed and rubbed against Eldara’s boots. The duke nearly kicked the cat when he sprayed his boots to mark him as his territory.
After having greeted the rest of the household, the duke took a long, thorough bath, had a quick snack and fell into his bed. He woke up in the morning, his bladder bursting. After he took care of that, he returned into bed and slept until the evening.
He was just in time to join the rest of the household for dinner.
“Eldara!” Halea exclaimed at the sight of him entering the dining room.
“Slept well?” Athara asked.
“Indeed I have,” Eldara answered. “I was told it had been an entire day.”
Everyone at the table nodded, smiling. Yozak gave an amused look to Wolfram, but the blond stared back into his eyes, daring him to speak up. Wolfram had slept in his own chamber so as not to disturb the duke’s rest. He was even somewhat insulted that Yozak thought that he lacked the simplest of common senses and had attacked the duke, when the man had obviously been so tired. Yozak, however, was right about one thing – Wolfram had spent most of his spare time making plans about usurping the duke’s attention once he had recovered.
Hungrily, Eldara swept his eyes over the dishes on the table. The assortment was smaller than usual but that was to be expected with the long-lasting unrest. They still had to wait till summer to replenish their supplies. The sea, however, soon was going to be passable again and trading ships would be able to travel.
Wolfram watched the duke clearing plate after plate with unconcealed appetite. Eldara listened to the news and events that were being shared by everyone. It was obvious that Karela also burned to give his report on the situation in the dukedom but was holding back until an appropriate moment.
The conversations drawn out long after everyone had done eating. Once Eldara showed an intention to leave the table, Halea was the first to approach him. They departed for Eldara’s study.
- - -
Eldara climbed into the steaming pool and leaned against the edge. Relaxing, he sighed contently. He had washed the dirt and sweat yesterday, now he hoped to wash off the hardships of the past months. He shook his head and sighed again. He scooped up some water into his palms and splashed it onto his face.
If not a civil war, then it was Halea. Indeed, there was not a moment of peace.
At the sound of the door opening, Eldara looked towards it.
“That’s a pleasant surprise,” Eldara said at the sight of Wolfram appearing amidst the benches.
“I doubt it’s a surprise, but I do hope it’s pleasant.” the blond said with a wink, maneuvering through the benches towards the pool.
“It is, it is,” Eldara said, elated. The blond indeed was a pleasant sight to his eyes, which had fasted for too long. During these past difficult months he hardly ever had a chance to think about sex, but when he did, Wolfram was one of those that came to his fantasies.
When he reached the pool with the duke, Wolfram stood at the edge, looking at the other man from above.
“Well? Aren’t you going to get in?” Eldara asked.
Wolfram squatted down to test the water with his hand. “I’m thinking.”
Amused, Eldara pursed his lips. “Isn’t it a little too late to be playing hard to get?”
“Mmm… Wnghargh!”
Wolfram gargled in surprise as he was grabbed by the lapels of his jacket. Instinctively, his hands covered Eldara’s. Then, Eldara tugged him down, and Wolfram’s eyes went wide. Headfirst, Wolfram plummeted into the pool. Spitting and coughing, he surfaced and stood up. Water was running down his clothes in rivulets. Brushing wet hair out of his face, the blond glared at the duke.
“What in the world? How will I return to my room? My boots are wet!”
“You don’t need to be concerned about returning tonight.”
Wolfram rolled his eyes. He started climbing out of the pool. Eldara was tempted to pull him back in but it would have probably resulted in Wolfram painfully hitting the edge with his body.
“Leaving?”
There was a note of disappointment in the duke’s voice. Chuckling, Wolfram turned around and said, “No, I’ll just ask someone to bring me my bathrobe and slippers.”
Once he did so, he returned to the pool to wait for the bathrobe to be delivered.
“So what did Halea want?” he asked, sitting down near the edge of the pool. He started pulling his wet boots off. He heard Eldara sigh. Wolfram raised his head to give the duke a questioning look. “Or is it not my place to ask?”
Eldara shook his head. “It’s nothing. She… Well, it seems she’s carrying.”
“She what? Really? Oohh… But… Isn’t the wedding in summer?”
“Not anymore it seems.”
Pouring the water out of his boots and arranging them on the tiled floor, Wolfram watched Eldara carefully. “You aren’t angry, are you?”
“I… I’m not sure,” Eldara admitted. “I thought about punching Fredrick once or twice, but she’s as much at fault as him. And, frankly, what does it even matter? They were supposed to get married anyway.”
“Indeed. What changes is just the date.” Wolfram grinned. “You’ll be an uncle.”
“Yep, faster than expected.”
There was a knock on the door and Wolfram went to get it. He returned with a bathrobe, draped it over the nearest bench and started taking his wet clothes off. He made sure to put on a show by undressing slowly, but the clothes were stuck to his body. It was not exactly enticing, in his opinion. It was, instead, more like peeling the clothes off his body with wet, gurgling sounds. Halfway through, it became awkward, and he just shed the rest of them quickly. After searching through the pockets, naked, he slipped into the pool. Seducing wasn’t his forte, Wolfram knew that from his experience with Yuuri. Eldara was much easier, though. He could feel the duke’s burning eyes on him.
TBC
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Bloom