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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
- 5
- 6
- 7
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.
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 6
It was early morning and Wolfram was scrubbing the floor on the upper deck. He had previously cleaned one cabin downstairs. His vomit had already dried up and it had taken time to wash it off. He was disgusted to think the pirates slept in the mess like it was nothing, but figured that they had seen and smelt worse.
The pirates didn’t pay Wolfram much attention. It seemed to him that he had become an errand boy. A pile of dirty clothing had already been assembled for him in one of the cabins and was waiting to be washed right after he was done with the floor.
Wolfram was too worn out to accept this as a joke or humiliation or to react in any way at all, really. This simply reminded him of his first month at barracks when all the newcomer soldiers were required to do some serious housekeeping. He had had blisters on his hands from washing and darning clothes.
Despite what he had expected, after getting rid of the Esoteric Stone from his pocket, he didn’t feel much better. He still had bouts of headaches and sickness. The pirates found his reaction to the sea funny. They probably thought that it should pass in a day or two. However, Wolfram knew that it wouldn’t. It never did. No matter how many times he had been on board with Yuuri, it was still the same – he hated the sea.
As long as it wasn’t very wavy and he wasn’t looking at it, it was okay. The sky, though, wasn’t sending any good signs. About midday, it started darkening. Wolfram had been on enough ships to know the signs of an incoming storm. He was already preparing for the worst when it was suddenly decided that they were going to the quiet bay in Marosa to wait out the storm, refill their supplies, sell some of the loot, and send a letter to Wolfram’s uncle.
Wolfram was very relieved to hear this. It was not that he thought he would have a chance of escaping; he would certainly be locked up in a cabin once in the bay. Even if he weren’t, he didn’t think he had enough strength to be chased by a handful of strong men. Rather, he could not bear the thought of himself in a stormy sea. Thankful, nonetheless, he simply concentrated on doing the laundry.
Wolfram heard the boards in the corridor creak and then raised his head as a figure appeared in the doorway.
“Still cooped up here, I see,” Sharp Ronny said, looking at barefooted Wolfram sitting amidst basins. A lantern was burning on the table but it was only half-light in the cabin. Both wet and dry clothes were scattered all over the floor. The blond was wet from head to toe, the floor was slippery. The captain couldn’t tell which clothes were supposed to be dirty and which already washed.
“What?” Wolfram asked after noticing the captain inspecting his work.
“You do realize that this is my cabin?”
“Ah, right,” Wolfram muttered darkly, “your prestigious cabin.”
The captain waited for the blond to add something but he neither added nor showed any intention to move anywhere. He simply continued splashing the water around, shivering lightly.
“Go and do this on the upper deck.”
“I like it here better. The sight of the sea makes me sick, it’s windy, and I don’t like people pinching my butt.”
“Must have been High Standard.”
“High Standard?”
“It’s his nickname. When he first joined, he always used to say he had high standards for this or that.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, so now he must be thinking: ‘What a high standard ass!’”
Wolfram frowned at the clothes in his hands. As long as this wasn’t leading to the acting on curiosity of ‘high standard sex’, he could deal with it. He was pretty certain that he could. He had had male suitors – one before Yuuri, another during their engagement. Under those circumstances, he knew how to get rid of unwanted attention.
The captain watched the blond for a few long seconds then, carefully so as not to slip, walked over to the bed and sat down. The blond had been right to avoid his men. He didn’t know what exactly Wolfram thought of the situation, but it was obvious that the blond wasn’t taking this as seriously as he should. It was because of his mindset, the lack of experience, or his poor health condition, which, maybe, prevented him from worrying too much and getting even worse.
“Have you eaten anything?”
“A slice of bread. It came back up right away.”
“It’s best you rest after doing the laundry. There is no point in you dying before we get the money.”
“Right. It would be a grand waste,” Wolfram muttered bitterly. With the amount of laundry around him, he was going to be able to rest only in the afterlife. This kind of generosity caused a surge of anger and a wish to empty a basket of rinsing over the captain. This, in turn, resulted in a throbbing headache and Wolfram lay down on the floor. He stared at the ceiling, fighting his anger.
“Hey, you alive there?”
Wolfram snorted.
“Is that ‘yes’ or ‘no’?”
“I’m alright. My head hurts again.”
“I think you might have a concussion.”
“Yes, I’m pretty certain I should be lying in a bed instead of washing someone’s dirty underwear.”
“Yeah, you’re right; I’ve never seen anyone as lousy as you at washing.”
The silence after this stretched for too long.
The captain chuckled. “Could it be that I hurt your feelings?” There was still no answer and he got up from the bed. The blond was lying on the floor motionlessly with his eyes closed.
“Wolfram? Hey, Wolfram?” the captain called, lightly slapping the blond on his face. He was surprised at how cold the blond’s body felt. He started unbuttoning the blond’s wet shirt off. In a few seconds, Wolfram stirred lightly.
“Mm?”
The blond looked totally out of it. Confused, Wolfram felt his upper body rise then watched his arm being threaded out of the sleeve of his shirt.
“You fainted. Are you cold?”
The blond was frowning slightly, trying to grasp the mystery of his disappearing shirt. Then he jerked, his eyes finally focusing, and he pushed at the captain’s chest. “What the hell are you doing?” he snarled, grabbing his shirt off the floor and stumbling to his feet. He immediately regretted that as fireworks exploded behind his eyes and his legs folded underneath him. He would have hit the ground if not for Sharp Ronny catching him.
“Stay still,” the captain said, starting to unbutton Wolfram’s trousers.
Despite being dizzy and disoriented, Wolfram managed to give him a look which was wondering if the captain was right in the head.
“Let go of me this instance.”
“Suit yourself,” the captain said, pushing Wolfram off himself and to the floor. He was satisfied to hear a soft yelp coming from the blond. “Undress and go to bed. I’ll tell my men they will have to wash their clothes by themselves.” He looked at the mess on the floor, again wondering if there were any clothes at all the blond had washed. “But you know, they will think I’m fucking you.”
“Anything,” Wolfram growled out, peeling his wet trousers off his legs, “just let me sleep!”
---
Wolfram was sleeping when a powerful bang flung him right off the bed and onto the floor. He lay still for a few seconds, waiting for a sharp pain behind his eyes to pass. Then, he checked to see if the harsh fall hadn’t broken any of his limbs. No time to gather his wits, he got on all fours and found that the floor was tilted. He could smell smoke and hear shouts on the upper deck.
Wolfram stumbled in the direction of the door and opened it. Something whooshed somewhere and a deafening crash followed. Wood splintered somewhere at the other end of the ship, screams echoed. The corridor was slowly filling up with smoke.
Carefully, Wolfram started climbing upstairs. The ship was strongly tilted and he had to keep a firm hold on the railing. Another impact shook the ship and Wolfram nearly tumbled backwards off the stairs.
The upper deck was on fire. Through the smoke, Wolfram could see that some of the sails were already in tatters, some burning, others with holes made by cannon balls. Farther in the distance, he could see five ships. They were still firing, the heavy cannon balls whooshing and exploding around. With the pirate ship tilted, it could not use its cannons. The pirates were arming themselves and lowering dinghies into the sea.
Wolfram looked around. The shore was about two hundred meters away. The ship was sinking now, and Wolfram figured that the enormous impact that had thrown him off the bed was them hitting a reef. The other ships must have chased them into it deliberately.
He had to get out of this ship. He was a pretty good swimmer but two hundred meters in a wavy and cold sea in his health condition wasn’t possible. He had to get into one of the dinghies, and this wasn’t going to be easy, either.
Nobody was paying Wolfram much attention. Besides, the smoke was making it hard to see, helping him to stay unnoticed. Belatedly, Wolfram realized that he wasn’t wearing any clothing apart from his underwear, but there was no time to lose. Most of the pirates had already fled and Wolfram could see three overcrowded dinghies speeding towards the shore.
There was still one dinghy on the left side of the ship, the side into which the ship was listing. There were a few pirates around. Obviously, they were armed, and he had only his underwear. Wolfram looked around for anything he could use as a weapon. He sighted a paddle farther on the deck and hurried there.
Wolfram faltered as he suddenly found himself face to face with a man who had appeared from behind a few barrels. Not allowing the pirate to recover from his surprise, Wolfram slammed his shoulder into him. He had concentrated all his strength into that and the two of them tumbled onto the floor. Wolfram saw stars before his eyes, but he had also stunned the other man.
They rolled over the floor, grappling. Wolfram considered himself lucky that this was a Human and he had a chance of overpowering him. A Demon would have had him on his knees during first few seconds.
The Human managed to throw him off but Wolfram was on him again, holding his wrist, not letting him pull out his sword. The man tried to free his wrist but Wolfram didn’t let go. He blocked the pirate’s other hand when the man wanted to punch him. Then happened something which Wolfram hadn’t expected: the blinding pain that flared up in his groin made him howl and drop rolling to the floor. As if through the mist, Wolfram still was aware of his shock and surprise: this was what dirty fighting felt like, and it was ungodly efficient. He wished somebody had taught him this at the Military Academy.
Sharp Ronny and a few of his other men looked at the pirate who was dragging the half-conscious Wolfram towards their dinghy.
“What are you doing with him?” Sharp Ronny demanded.
“He will be a valuable hostage.”
The captain gave him a skeptical look. He pointed at the four ships on the horizon. “That ship with the dragon sail belongs to von Ashira. You know very well what the bastard is like. He doesn’t negotiate. He will kill this rich kid himself and then tell everyone that it was us who did it. He will say he didn’t even have the slightest idea the kid was on board. Remember what happened to Hairy Harry?”
The other pirate cursed and dropped Wolfram to the floor.
The captain shrugged. “He’s useless, but let’s take him with us anyway,” he said. “He will either drown or the soldiers will kill him on sight.”
“I knew you were fucking him!”
The captain laughed. He looked around but these were the last of his men left. He ordered to drop the dinghy into the water.
Wolfram became aware of his surroundings only when there was an enormous splash and he suddenly found himself choking on water.
“Give me your hand,” the captain called out for him. Spluttering and coughing, Wolfram managed to reach the boat. Sharp Ronny grabbed the blond’s hand and pulled him into the dinghy, the pirates starting to row with vigor.
The four ships were close now. Two of them with turned flanks were sending volleys of cannonballs toward the escaping pirate dinghies. Wolfram watched them passively. He felt like in a dream. He wasn’t even certain whether or not he was afraid. His mind simply couldn’t fathom the possibility that he might be mistaken for a pirate and killed like one. This…this was simply impossible.
Instinctively, Wolfram ducked as a cannon ball zoomed above them. It fell about ten meters away from them, not causing any damage, hardly rocking the dinghy. Momentarily relieved and at the same time horrified, he watched another ball arc from one of the ships and head towards them. With quickly growing anxiety, his eyes were following the trajectory of the ball.
Wolfram grabbed the side of the dingy, but couldn’t hold on as a sudden, rough wave lifted it and sloshed it sideways. They tried to keep their balance, but it was too late. The bodies tipped the vessel the rest of the way over, plunging it into the water. The dinghy scattered its passengers like a poppy its seeds.
They were still about a hundred meters to the shore. Keeping a hold of the overturned boat, Wolfram thought about what he should do. Staying like this, he was going to freeze and drown anyway. No matter what, he had to try for the shore.
At first, with his body flooded with adrenaline, Wolfram didn’t feel very much. He simply concentrated on every swing of his arms and the movements of his legs. A minute later, he started freezing in the autumn water. His palms hurt from the splinters he had gotten while trying to keep hold of the wooden side of the vessel. Even though he was doing his best, the shore seemed to be so far away. He could see some of the pirates already disembarking, running along the beach. Two other boats were also nearly there.
Wolfram was now trailing behind. The bobbing heads of those who had been together with him in the dinghy were putting more and more distance between them. He could see the captain’s black hat far ahead. Obviously, the man was a very good swimmer.
With horror, Wolfram watched uniformed riders appear on the shore. He could hear dogs barking. The sunset reflected light off drawn swords. These were soldiers and this was a well-organized hunt.
Wolfram looked at the two dinghies that were still afloat. The men had nearly reached the shore but now stayed on their boats, not climbing out. Behind them were the enemy ships. In front of them were the enemy soldiers. They were trapped.
While they could stay in their boats and await their fate, Wolfram had to reach the shore. His fate at the moment was crystal-clear – either he was going to reach the shore or drown. It was probably a twenty meter swim. The coast seemed so close and so far at the same time. With every passing moment, his legs and arms seemed to become heavier and heavier, until it felt as if leaden weights were attached to them. Now he was fighting for his life, trying not to gulp water. If he did that, it was over. He started coughing and losing his coordination, his mind going blank.
Now there were only ten meters left and his lungs were burning. His whole body was protesting, begging for relief. He fought desperately against the deadly pull of the waves. He didn’t want to die yet. Not yet, not ever. He was too young. He still had to see and learn many things. It seemed to him that during the last week at the fort he had started enjoying life again.
Wolfram imagined he could already feel the sand under his feet. More, a little more, was all he was asking for. More time, more strength, luck, more everything before his previous life started replaying in his eyes.
When Wolfram felt sand under his feet, he wasn’t certain whether it was only his wishful thinking or reality. Shaking like a leaf, he climbed from the water on all fours and collapsed on the beach. Dogs and soldiers had flooded the coast, but Wolfram had no strength left to think about them. He simply wanted to rest.
The soldiers were rounding up the rest of the pirates. At first, the pirates had kept together to fight them but the soldiers overwhelmed them by the sheer number and half of them rode horses, not leaving any chance for the pirates to outrun them. Here and there, a fight would break out but once a pirate brandished a sword, there was no mercy left for him. The beach had already grown mounds of lonely bodies.
The Duke of Raizgad had left his ship and now was supervising the progress of the company on the beach. He was on horseback, riding among his troops, while the last of the pirates were being bound into ropes. From afar, it was not easy to tell the duke apart from his soldiers as he was wearing the same brown uniform as his men, except that his jacket was longer and bore the crest of von Ashira House. His dark violet hair was tied behind his back so as not to get in his face. He seemed to be very content with how the execution of the operation had turned out.
“Your Grace!”
The duke turned to look at the soldier who had called. “Yes?”
“This one is dying, Your Grace,” the soldier said. “Shall I just finish him off or admit him to a medical bay?”
The duke watched his soldier grab a handful of blond hair and lift a nearly naked man’s head for him to see. Not a muscle moved on von Ashira’s face to show his surprise or that he knew the man. He thought about how easy it would be to annihilate one of the most prominent Houses in Shin Makoku. With the end of Wolfram von Bielefeld’s existence, it would be over. According to the intelligence he had read, the youth’s uncle was sterile.
The duke watched his soldier draw a dagger. Right now, von Bielefeld was nothing but a despicable pirate. Later, of course, he would present his condolences to his family, expressing his sorrow for Wolfram’s unfortunate fate. To convey his solidarity, he would hang all the pirates who had killed the blond.
“Your Grace?”
Von Ashira averted his eyes from Wolfram’s face to the soldier’s, who now was holding the dagger close to the blond’s throat. But in the end, what was the point? Some other family would take over the von Bielefelds’ lands, and, gods knew, they weren’t going to be even a tiny bit better than von Bielefelds.
“Oh my!” the duke exclaimed abruptly. “This is Lord von Bielefeld!”
Not understanding whether it was a joke or the truth, the soldier stared at the duke, waiting.
“I would suggest you remove that dagger at once. This is Lord von Bielefeld you are threatening.”
“Of course, Your Grace,” the soldier spilled out, quickly hiding his dagger.
“Transport him to the castle and call my personal doctor. I want him examined at once.”
“Yes, Your Grace, right away.”
After leaving the orders with the soldier, the duke turned his horse around and rode away to check the rest of the pirates; if von Bielefeld was here, then maybe there was also someone else who was unfortunate enough to get into the pirates’ clutches. Once he departed, the soldiers he had left behind met each others’ eyes uneasily, sharing the realization of what had just transpired here. Then, they went about the business of finding a cart and sending someone to inform the duke’s doctor about a new patient as well as locating a blanket or some other cover that they could wrap the blond into.

---
Eldara von Ashira returned to his castle four hours later. Once he set his foot inside, he was vigorously questioned about the new resident by his excited sister. Then, after managing to quench Halea’s thirst for gossipy details, the duke went to have a bath. After that, he had dinner. It was long overdue but the servants in the kitchen quickly rustled up a few sandwiches and heated leftovers. Once the duke dulled the edge off his appetite, he went to see his guest.
As Eldara had given no orders concerning von Bielefeld’s accommodation, and his younger brother was absent from home, his sister had been the one to make the decisions. Halea had placed von Bielefeld in one of the guest rooms.

The duke entered the room to find the doctor still there, sitting on one of the chairs, looking bored; he had been waiting for the duke’s return to personally inform him of the patient’s health. Eldara closed the door softly behind himself. He walked over to the bed to take a look at the blond’s face. He couldn’t see very well in the half-darkness of the candles but, even then, it seemed that Wolfram was too pale.
“Well?” Eldara inquired the doctor, who had started gathering his instruments and putting them back into his valise.
“He has a serious concussion. He is sleeping now.”
Eldara’s eyes took in the bruise on the blond’s forehead. It was healing already but its size and variety of colors was a sight to behold. He nodded. “Anything else? Have you checked him for sexual abuse?”
“Certainly, Your Grace,” the doctor said, giving the duke a little reproachful look, which Eldara accepted as deserved for patronizing the doctor; they had known each other for over twenty years now and the doctor expected him to trust his skill.
“It didn’t find any other internal or external injuries,” the doctor continued. “His palms are bruised and were full of splinters but that has been taken care of.” He faltered, throwing the duke a quick glance. “Well, his nether regions are somewhat swollen. It doesn’t seem that there is any long-term damage, though.”
Eldara gave the doctor a questioning look.
“To put it bluntly, Your Grace, somebody has kicked him in the nuts.”
“Oh, I see,” Eldara said, frowning in sympathy. At the same time, he was relieved nothing worse had happened to von Bielefeld. Now, as he had taken Wolfram under his care, he wanted as few complications as possible.
The duke moved forward to the blond’s bed. He could see his palms wrapped in light bandages and there was the smell of ointment. Wolfram looked different than the last time he had seen him: he had grown, was more muscled but, unsurprisingly, thinner, his blond hair was longer and matted with grease and dirt. He stank. Eldara pressed the back of his hand to Wolfram’s temple. The skin was surprisingly cool. The blond didn’t even twitch or react in any way to his touch.
“He needs a bath,” Eldara stated.
“He needs as much rest as possible,” the doctor replied. “A bath can wait. Plenty of sleep at night and lazing about in bed at daytime,” he continued. “No physical exercise whatsoever. For now, it’s best for him to avoid all kinds of excitement. During the next few days he will probably still have bouts of dizziness, headaches, or nausea or, possibly, everything at once. Sometimes the aftereffects of a concussion can last for an entire lifetime. His condition needs to be closely observed. I’ll probably be able to tell more in only a few days.”
“Alright.”
“It seems he hasn’t eaten for a few days. But, if he feels nauseous, he will probably refuse food. Still, it would be good to encourage him to eat something nourishing but not too hard to digest. I’ll leave all my instructions with the nurse; I have taken the liberty to call one over from the medical bay.”
“Yes, perfect. She can also stay in one of the guest rooms and watch over him.”
The doctor had already packed his valise and was now standing at the door. “I’ll come to check on him tomorrow at about the same time, Your Grace. I think that being a young and healthy Demon, he should fully recover in less than a month.”
“Yes,” Eldara nodded, smiling wryly. “Demons are extremely tenacious, gods damn them. Thank you, Doctor. We’ll see each other tomorrow, then.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
The duke took another look at the blond and then left the room as well. He still had to write a long and complicated letter to Gwendal von Voltaire explaining how and why his little brother was staying in his castle. And Gwendal von Voltaire was not the sort of man you wanted to worry.
Tbc
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Bloom