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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
- 4
- 5
- 6
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?
A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 20.
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: The 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 5
When Wolfram came to the next time, it was completely dark around him. Even though he couldn’t see anything, this time his mind was much clearer. His head still hurt and he was dizzy, but it didn’t hinder him from remembering the three men who hadn’t been exactly friendly with him. His hands and feet were still bound and he could hardly feel them at all. Wolfram could tell that he was in the same exact place he was before losing his consciousness: he was still lying on the same hard, wooden floor and there had to be a table somewhere farther off. He could hear soft voices coming from somewhere far away. But, in the room, he didn’t hear any sounds of breathing, indicating a guard. However, he didn’t give into the temptation to think that he was alone, either – his ears were buzzing with what he knew was only in his head.
He moved his hands and feet, but his numb limbs hardly listened to him. The ropes didn’t even budge. He tried to call on his fire element, but the only reward for his efforts was a pang of excruciating pain behind his eyes. He moaned and lay still for a few moments, waiting for the feeling to subside.
There was not even a tiny source of light. It also reeked of vomit. A few minutes later, Wolfram also became aware of the gentle continuous creaking. There was also a soft sway as if…
A ship.
He was on board a ship! A flash of panic shot through Wolfram. He instinctively hated ships. To be on one against his will and to be taken gods knew where was abominable. It also meant he could not escape – most likely, there was only water where the eye could see. He also didn’t know who these men were. From the last time he had woken up, he could remember that he heard them speak one of Shin Makoku dialects and then there was also another language he hadn’t understood.
What if war broke out and they really were Karderians just like Derek had said? Possible? Yes, but Wolfram’s mind could only wrap around the presumption with difficulty. Kardera was much smaller than Shin Makoku. It had quite large military forces, though, including a grand navy. Kardera’s foreign policy wasn’t aggressive but it frequently clashed with one or two of its neighbors. It was mostly due to the fact that Kardera was rich in minerals and there were many who wanted to lay their hands on them.
Kardera had also many allies. That and its navy were the main reasons a lot of countries tiptoed around Kardera. Kardera had a grand armada. Shin Makoku had a lot of fishing boats. If Kardera decided to use its navy, Shin Makoku would be blocked from the outside world in an instant. Throughout history, there had been a few wars between the two countries, but they had been waged because of obligation to their allies. Otherwise, Kardera and Shin Makoku didn’t care much about each other’s existence. Shin Makoku had its own natural resources. Frequently, Shin Makoku had trouble with dealing with rebels in its own territory as well as beating off Human attacks from other countries. Kardera was frequently busy with waging war with its other neighbors, earning capital from exports, and lending the strength of its navy to its allies.
If war had really started… No, Wolfram didn’t even want to think about it. In fact, he hoped that the ship didn’t belong to Kardera at all.
Slowly, Wolfram pushed himself off the floor and into a kneeling position. Changing his position into one where his head was higher that the rest of his body brought him another spell of dizziness. He had to support himself with his bound hands so as not to fall over.
Tugging at his bonds with his teeth did nothing. Trying to untie his feet was even more impossible as his numb fingers didn’t listen to him. Giving up on that thought, Wolfram got on all fours and moved carefully through the dark room towards the table he knew was there. He scrambled onto the bench and started groping around on the table. He shrank back as his hands sent something tumbling off the table and onto the wooden floor. Wolfram waited for a handful of seconds while listening carefully, but it was quiet and he continued searching. He grimaced as his hands sank into something cold, wet, and squishy. Porridge, maybe?
He didn’t find anything he could cut the ropes with but found the lantern he had been looking for. It was on the very edge of the table, and the matches were lying right next to it. Trying to strike a light with his hands bound appeared to be an even more difficult task than trying to untie his bonds. He couldn’t keep hold of a tiny match and the matchbox simply kept dropping from his numb fingers.
Frustrated and anxious with the amount of time it was taking him, Wolfram tried to call on his fire element again. This time, the pain was so sharp that Wolfram’s whole body jerked and shrank into itself, the spasm making him slam his forehead against the table.
In a few seconds, the pain stated retreating and the colorful dots in Wolfram’s eyes began to disappear. He stayed absolutely still, panting for air, with his forehead pressed to the table. Once he could breathe normally, he continued trying to strike a match. When he finally succeeded, he was ready to kiss the matchbox.
Wolfram looked around. It was a cabin. He could see five hammocks arranged at the walls. The door was on his right. Wolfram slid off the bench and crawled over to it. Supporting himself against it, he stood up and pressed on the handle. The door creaked open. There was a small corridor behind it with four other doors. At the end of the corridor, there was a staircase with tiny specks of light coming down from somewhere above.
Hopping was out of the question as even the tiniest jolt sent a spark of searing pain through his brain. Crawling along the wall, he reached the stairs and then started making slow progress upwards. There was a hatch at the top of the stairs. Gently, Wolfram pressed at it with his hands to lift it a fraction. The light momentarily blinded him.
When he could see again, he suddenly became aware of a pair of boots walking towards him. His peripheral vision hindered him to see who it was. But no matter who it was, Wolfram didn’t want to be seen and slid downstairs. He was too slow, though, and for a few seconds he and the man, who now was on the stairs, were staring at each other. Then, the man moved forward to grab Wolfram.
The blond hung onto the railing and slid sideways, at the same time shouldering the incomer as hard as he could. The man’s legs intertwined and he started tumbling downstairs, but at the last minute, he managed to take hold of the railing and balance himself. He turned around, his eyes snapping at Wolfram with rage. What he had least expected was the blond bearing down on his chest with his bound feet.
Panting, his head throbbing madly, Wolfram stared at the man downstairs. The hatch was still open and he could see a sword at the man’s side. The man was twitching lightly. He was going to come round soon.
Wolfram unclasped his fingers off the railing and slid towards the man. He pulled the sword halfway out of its sheath and ground the rope against it. A shadow fell over him and Wolfram raised his head to see a silhouette at the top of the stairs. Wolfram’s hands were free now and he drew the sword all the way. He started working on the rope around his ankles.
“Oh, awake.”
Wolfram did not have the luxury of lifting his eyes again in case he cut his legs: the blade was sharp and his fingers were shaky. Once the rope was off, he stood up and leaned against the wall behind him.
The man who had been watching Wolfram’s progress drew his sword as well. With interest, he waited for the blond’s next action. It was obvious that the blond was having trouble with keeping himself upright.
“Captain?”
Wolfram squinted upwards against the light to see a man approach the one on the stairs. He saw the second man peer past his captain’s shoulder down at him. After seeing the blond, he said something in a language Wolfram didn’t understand.
“Come up here,” the captain motioned for Wolfram. “Drop the sword and we won’t harm you. It’s pointless to resist anyway. There’re a few dozens of my men on the deck and we are in the open sea.”
“I’d be very much obliged, sir, if I were allowed to keep it,” Wolfram said. “Strictly for self-defense, of course.”
The captain laughed. Wolfram saw him look around as if gauging what his men thought of this. Then, he shrugged. “Very well. But one wrong move and you will find one or two limbs of yours missing.”
Wolfram nodded slowly. He didn’t want to leave the narrow corridor where he had at least some chance of defending himself but if what the captain was telling was true, there was no point in holding his position here. Barricading himself here would only bring a slow death from thirst and hunger.
With his sword at the ready, Wolfram dragged himself upstairs. He blinked slowly, letting his eyes adjust to the bright light. The captain hadn’t lied – there were over twenty men on the upper deck. All of them were watching him like a cat watches a mouse.
They were pirates.
Wolfram had suspected this but now, seeing the men’s various clothing, and no flag on the mast, it became painfully apparent. Most of them also had faces which, if seen, were best to avoid as much at night as in the daylight. Wolfram’s eyes wandered over the board. He swallowed loudly. Needless to say, he didn’t feel well and to suddenly see the vast water all around suddenly made his stomach spasm. He doubled over and retched.
“Can it be that you’re seasick?” the captain wondered aloud while watching Wolfram heaving with dry spasms. “My men have complained to me about the mess you’ve made downstairs.”
Wolfram didn’t answer anything to that. “What,” he breathed out, “are you going to do with me?” His head was spinning again and he wanted to lean against something very badly.
“Well, first,” he counted off on his fingers, “you’re going to tell me your name, then clean up your vomit off yourself and my ship, and then we’ll see.”
“You’re a Demon,” Wolfram stated although he wasn’t very certain.
The captain nodded. “That’s right. And?”
Wolfram tried to think. This meant that they were not from around here. The crew was of various nationalities and races and they didn’t know him. How, in the world, did they appear here? And, even more importantly, what in the world, was Kardera’s almighty navy doing allowing pirates to freely frequent their territory?
Ah right, the fog.
“Oh my,” the captain said looking down at Wolfram, whose legs had just folded underneath him and now he was lying flat on the deck. His eyes set on the sword the blond was holding apart from his body. “It’s best you dropped the blade after all. Not that we care much, but try not to kill yourself – maybe there’s still some use to you.”
Despite the general weakness, Wolfram managed to blush. To his embarrassment, the man was right. Then Wolfram’s eyelids fluttered shut and he drifted off into darkness.
---
When Wolfram woke up, he found that he had been allowed to keep the liberty of unbound hands and feet. The next thing he noticed was that the jacket of his uniform was missing and now he was wearing only his shirt. Reluctantly, he put this down to the jacket being covered in filth and smelling like a pile of shit. His face wasn’t covered in his vomit anymore as well. Mainly, he thought this was because he was in a bed which was relatively clean and it clearly belonged to someone. He didn’t have his boots on, either.
Wolfram was in a different cabin than the one he had been in before. There was no oil lamp burning but the door wasn’t closed and the light from the outside allowed him to see what was where. He looked around the cabin but the sword he had picked up earlier was nowhere to be seen. This was not a big surprise. A big surprise would have been if he had been allowed to keep it.
The blond took another look at the cabin. It was, just like the bed, relatively clean. It was cluttered but somehow it managed to create some sense of order: clothes were in the pile with clothes, a few maps and books were stacked in a small cupboard. Two pairs of boots were in one corner, hats in another. Wolfram noticed a spyglass and took it. It could not be compared to a sword but it was better than nothing.
Wolfram’s boots were beside the bed and he pulled them on. When he walked out into the corridor, he saw that he had been in a cabin farthest from the stairs. Keeping in mind that there was only one bed in it, he suspected that it was the captain’s cabin.
“Oh, our sleeping beauty is up again.”
Instinctively, Wolfram drew himself back into the cabin and raised the spyglass in a defensive gesture, preparing to hit the man who had appeared from the opposite door to the cabin.
“Why so unfriendly?” the captain chuckled. “And to think I carried you all the way downstairs…”
Wolfram’s hand faltered. The captain was casually holding his sword, carving a hole on the door casing just next to him. Wolfram lowered the spyglass to the ground. Remembering the previous experience, he didn’t even try summoning his fire element in case it would do more damage than be useful; the man in front of him was a Demon as well, he could not risk failing.
“That’s a good boy.”
Wolfram stiffened as the blade neared his throat. It didn’t press against his skin but it was uncomfortably close. Keeping his eyes on the sword, Wolfram stepped back deeper into the cabin.
“Shall I tie you up again? You seem very resourceful…”
“I need to go to the bathroom,” Wolfram blurted out before he could stop himself. His bladder was bursting and if he was going to be tied up again….
“Well, yes, I suppose you do,” the captain nodded. He moved aside, freeing the path to the door. “Don’t take too long, though,” he warned, sheathing his sword. “There are a few matters we need to discuss.”
Bypassing the man in a quite wide circle, Wolfram kept his eyes on him, watching out for any sudden movement. The captain didn’t even move a muscle.
“Where is the bathroom?” Wolfram asked.
“Well, it depends. If you want to take a piss, just let it fountain over the board. If you’re up for more serious business, then there’s a bucket in the stern. Just pour it out into the sea when you’re done.”
The captain was watching him intently and Wolfram realized that the man was gauging his reaction. The captain chuckled when he understood that Wolfram was aware of that.
“You’re pretty smart, aren’t you, rich boy? And here I thought I’d amuse myself to my heart’s content. I must commend you for not killing Ariba as well.”
“I’d never get away from here alive if I had,” Wolfram muttered.
“Yes,” the captain nodded. “I’m glad you understand that.” His tone was conversational but Wolfram could feel the steel underneath. “But don’t let me detain you.”
There were about ten men on the upper deck. Two were fixing a fishnet, three cleaning the fish, one was up in the crow’s nest, others just lazing about or tinkering with ropes. All activity was ceased as soon as they noticed Wolfram marching toward the end of the ship.
The bucket indeed was there just as the captain had said. It was also tied to the railing so that it would not get washed away into the sea during a storm. Wolfram turned around to see the pirates staring at him. He hoped he could manage to get away from this ship very fast. Otherwise, there was the prospect of some very serious constipation.
The board was pretty high and he looked around for something to stand on. A wooden box lay nearby and he brought it closer. Emptying his bladder into the sea didn’t cause him as much discomfort as he had expected because, once he started it, the only thing he could think about was how good it felt after having held it in for such a long time. However, the problem was the sea itself. He belatedly realized that it would have been better if he had closed his eyes. He hardly managed to button up his trousers as he doubled over the board, his body heaving. There was some bile at first. Later, there were only dry heaves.
Dizzily, Wolfram held onto the board, feeling the headache return. He felt someone prying his fingers off the board and was glad of it because the box under his feet didn’t feel stable and he wasn’t that certain he wouldn’t fall into the water. Suddenly, he felt he was lying on the deck.
“And what are we going to do with you? You get seasick every five minutes.” The captain scratched his chin in thought. “Wait…You are a fire wielder, aren’t you?”
Wolfram ignored the captain. He still felt like gagging, but now that he had concentrated on staring upwards at the sky, his stomach seemed to be settling. He could see half of the captain’s face hovering above him.
“And a powerful one at that,” the captain continued. “There’s always something disagreeable between the sea and fire wielders.”
“I,” Wolfram heaved, “I just don’t like it moving!”
The captain laughed softly. He pulled Wolfram up onto his unsteady feet. “Let’s get you downstairs,” he said, starting to lead the blond. “It seems it’s best to keep you where you can’t see it or you’ll end up puking your guts out.”
Wolfram allowed himself to be led to the cabin he had been in before and laid down onto the bed. His plans didn’t include anything else except for lying still at the moment. He jerked at something cool and wet pressing to his forehead.
“It’s just a wet rag,” the captain said. “There’s a large lump on your forehead. Foren is a strong lad. You’d probably be dead if you were a Human.”
The coolness felt heavenly on Wolfram’s skin. He felt like drifting away again but a few light slaps on his face brought him back.
“Don’t get too comfortable. There’re still a few things we need to discuss.”
“I am thirsty,” Wolfram said, sitting up, holding the wet rag on his forehead so that it wouldn’t fall off.
The captain rolled his eyes. However, he said nothing and rounded the bed to get to a wooden box on the other side of it. After opening its lid, he pulled out a bottle.
“Just water would be fine,” Wolfram said at the sight of the green bottle.
“It is water. These bottles are convenient to keep small amounts of it instead of going to retrieve some from the kitchen or hold.”
Only after emptying half of the bottle at once did Wolfram realize how thirsty he had been. He wasn’t certain about the last time he had eaten, either. Things had gotten out of hand.
While drinking, Wolfram had time to take a better look at the captain. It was hard to tell his age as with all Demons, but with him in the captain’s position Wolfram guessed that he was at least over fifty. He looked young, though. If he were a human, one would think he was in his early twenties. His face was round but unexpectedly hard with narrow eyes, a small mouth and tanned skin. His short hair was brown. It was dark but it was probably because it needed washing. He wore no mustache, which Wolfram usually associated with pirates. Maybe, he was shaving it really thoroughly or it wasn’t growing in yet, which would mean the captain was less than forty. The man was heavily built, which was the only thing matching his big round face.
“How long have I been here?” Wolfram asked after having glugged the bottle down to the last drop. He returned it to the captain.
“For two days.” Wolfram looked startled and the captain laughed. Then his face got serious. “It’s very simple. If you want to leave here alive, you’ll behave. Now listen, your folks must be swimming in money. Tell me your name, we will arrange a nice little exchange and you’ll be free to go. We will even allow you to keep all of your fingers.”
Wolfram considered this. He was fond of his fingers but he wasn’t certain his uncle was as fond of him. After the death of his brother and Wolfram’s father, Waltorana became the regent ruling the von Bielefeld land until Wolfram was ready to return and claim it as his. If Wolfram never returned…well, then Waltorana wouldn’t need to return the land to anyone.
In spite of thinking this, Wolfram was certain that Waltorana would pay up. He simply wanted to bear all the possibilities in mind. Besides, if not Waltorana, then he could rely on his brother or Yuuri. The thought about Yuuri made him cringe, though. It would be better if this didn’t reach Yuuri. He could barely imagine bigger shame: he had gone away against all protests and then had gotten himself kidnapped. If, in the end, Yuuri would have to pay for him… No, he would rather deal with his uncle.
“Wolfram von Bielefeld,” Wolfram muttered after a long pause during which it seemed that the captain was going to lose his temper. “You can send a letter to my uncle Waltorana von Bielefeld. He will pay.”
The captain’s face clouded over. “Von Bielefeld?” he repeated slowly, realizing that his men had sunk their teeth into a very large piece of meat, maybe even too large. “Are you in any way related to Gwendal von Voltaire?”
“He is my half-brother.”
The captain held back a curse. As if being a von Bielefeld wasn’t enough, the youth was also a brother to the general of Shin Makoku’s army himself. If not handled carefully, this might end with him and his men being hunted by half of the world.
“I’ve never gotten along with “vons” but you seem a very promising lad,” the captain finally said, clapping Wolfram’s shoulder. “Let’s hope your uncle does pay.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“As said, a few fingers or an ear might convince him to.”
“And if he still doesn’t?”
The captain slowly drew his index finger across his throat. “Then you’re dead, my boy. But don’t worry, I’m certain your uncle will be generous. After all, what’s a few thousand for the von Bielefelds?”
Wolfram lay down and adjusted the now warm rag on his forehead. He thought he ought to ask for food but with repetitive bouts of sickness, he didn’t feel hungry.
“I told you my name, so I’d be very obliged to know yours,” Wolfram muttered.
“You can call me Sharp Ronny.”
“Alright,” Wolfram said before falling asleep.
He woke up to someone prodding him. Dizzily, he looked around. The cabin was dark but he didn’t need light to realize that there was someone else with him in the bed. Actually, that “someone” had thrown an arm over his waist. Wolfram frowned. He remembered he was the one taking the captain’s bed. Sharp Ronny saw no reason to surrender his comfortable nest to a newcomer. But it was not as though he had come onto the ship willingly.
Wolfram shifted carefully and peered at the man beside him. If he took Ronny hostage, then maybe he would have a chance to get away from this damn ship. However, there were always those who were underneath and couldn’t wait to step up a ladder. Suddenly, there might be someone saying that if the captain was stupid enough to be taken hostage, then it served him right to die.
Was it even worth a try? He was treated pretty well and all he had to do was to sit still and wait for Waltorana to pay the ransom. He was fairly certain that he would be released as soon as the money was paid – there were no idiots who would want to have the entire country of Shin Makoku as their mortal enemy. Of course, his pride hurt somewhat but there was no point in taking stupid risks. It was better to feel pride hurting than to be dead or crippled for the rest of his life.
Grumbling, Wolfram turned on his side and pushed the offending arm off himself. He still didn’t feel well but at least he felt thirsty and somewhat hungry. He slipped out of the bed and stumbled to the wooden box at the other side of the bed. He opened it and started looking for a bottle with water blindly.
Wolfram shrieked in surprise as he was grabbed suddenly and thrown down onto the bed. He lay there perfectly still as he felt something cool and sharp press to his neck.
“Looking for something?”
Wolfram didn’t dare speak. Then he felt the blade move a little away from his neck. “Water,” he mumbled, shaken up. “Thirsty,” he added, feeling his heartbeat drumming in his ears. He suddenly felt sick again.
The blade retreated and Wolfram had to close his eyes as, in a few seconds, a lantern flared to life. The captain inspected the bottle Wolfram’s fingers were still wrapped around. Then he saw the blond’s hand travel to his mouth.
“The bucket is at the door,” Sharp Ronny said, taking the bottle from Wolfram.
For a few second he listened to the blond gagging over the bucket then lifted his pillow to hide the dagger under it again. He took a look at the bottle again. Wolfram had gotten a bottle of brandy. Sighing, the captain rolled out of the bed and put it back into the box. Then he found a bottle with water.
“Come here,” he motioned as it seemed that the bout of sickness was over. “Search through your pockets,” he said after Wolfram had staggered over to the bed.
Wolfram did so and he felt something small and hard in his left pocket. He pulled it out then started and dropped it to the floor after realizing what it was.
An Esoteric Stone.
“Sorry about that, darling,” the captain said, petting Wolfram’s hair. “It was just in case you tried something funny.”
Wolfram smacked at his hand, glaring. It was no wonder he had felt so wretched and hadn’t been able to call on his element. The captain just kept grinning at him and Wolfram flopped onto the bed, irritated.
“Here’s your water and wash your mouth first.”
Wolfram grabbed the bottle from the captain’s hand and went back to the bucket. He already felt better. He rinsed his mouth then drank the rest of the bottle. When he returned to the bed, the captain was already slumbering. A loud fart echoed in the room.
“Oh god,” Wolfram choked out, waving his hands in front of him. He had hoped he had gotten used to this in the barracks, but could still not keep the disgust out of his voice.
“Come here,” Sharp Ronny said, lifting the cover.
Wolfram turned his face away from the cloud of putrid stench and lay on his side, scowling. He startled as an arm wrapped around his waist again then slid down to pat him on the front of his trousers.
“Well, maybe, if your uncle appears to be one mean asshole, I’ll just keep you for myself.”
Speechless, Wolfram lay without moving a muscle for a few seconds. He didn’t really understand the situation but this was sexual harassment, right?
“Don’t count on it,” Wolfram said finally.

Tbc
- 4
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- 6
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