Kyou Kara Maou Fan Fiction ❯ Axel ❯ Victory ( Chapter 4 )

Kyou Kara Maou : Axel

 

Summary: Wolfram tells his father about his first love affair, in the dark days after Suzanna Julia died, when Wolfram turned his back on healing and became a soldier. Yuuri appears in later chapters. Side story to The Bedding of Wolfram.

 

Disclaimer: I have no rights to Kyou Kara Maou, of course.

 

Warnings: rated M for mature sexual theme. No spoilers - most of the characters / plot here never appear in the anime.

 

Please review.

 

Update: just cleaning up.

 

Chapter 4 : Victory

 

Wolfram stood inwardly roiling, waiting for the Bielenfeld Beautiful Boy Pageant to get underway, but no one would know it to look at him. Not-fidgeting was a basic courtier's skill, learned at his mother's knee through interminable state functions. The competition picked at unfamiliar finery and chattered anxiously. Wolfram confidently wore his usual state function variant of Bielenfeld officer's dress uniform, with his favorite tasteful ransom's worth of gold and emerald eye-enhancing jewelry. He already had the finest tailors and fabrics, flawlessly rendered, perfectly fitted. His absolute best look was refined on a daily basis, his everyday skin and hair care regimens meticulous. After all, that was the career he was trying to escape - Hahaue's best dress-up doll.

 

His basic strategy to win this thing was to look himself, beautiful and aloof, until a strategic judging moment, then stun everyone with a smile. The competition was pretty enough, but aside from the two he'd personally coached, they were bumpkin clueless in the deportment department.

 

Paol and Robair were late. He didn't care to admit it, but it hurt even more that Axel was late. Von Dienst had airily told Wolfram last night `not to worry your pretty head about the troop for the day, concentrate on winning the Pageant for the Regiment!' He didn't realize that meant the lot of them would disappear for the day. There was nothing to concentrate on. Wolfram had decades of practice at standing there looking cute.

 

“Boo,” said Axel, having snuck up behind him. Wolfram allowed himself the slightest narrowing of subtly teal-penciled eyes as he turned nonchalantly. His cool hiss died as he saw Axel in civvies instead of the perpetual blue uniform. It was like seeing him again for the first time. He'd chosen a short tawny jacket with shoulder pads and a ruff, topping sprayed-on brown leather pants, with fold-down soft suede tan boots, a look that showed off his broad shoulders, narrow waist, and muscular legs to perfection. His hair was freshly cut and styled, curly mop feathered to smooth waves at the sides, a playful ration of longer curls remaining at top and duck tail, molded to stay put. His affable plain broad face was shaved and scrubbed to Wolfram's exacting standards. His invariant simple ear stud was replaced by a gold and silver twist, from which a lustrous hazel pearl dangled, matching his eyes. Wolfram needed to nibble that pearl. Now.

 

Axel's eyes danced merrily. “Thought I'd dress as your date tonight. Discreetly, of course. On the off chance you win.”

 

Wolfram felt his eyes would cross with the effort of staying cool. `Discreetly' is wildly, maddeningly sexier than `openly'. Just a couple hours. Then I devour him. He licked his lips once, then casually glanced around for Paol and Robair.

 

Robair's uncle's wedding finery suited him well, snowy linens and smokey violets and lavenders highlighting his vivid magenta eyes. Paol's gambit was his Shin Makoku issue healer's full dress uniform, green shoulders over white draped swathing, piped in gilt. Wolfram was gratified to see both had mastered the tri-shade rose lip staining Wolfram and Cheri had refined over the years as an undetectable youth's version of Cheri's kiss-me lips pattern. Both must have visited the same inspired hairdresser as Axel.

 

“Sorry we're late,” continued Axel. “I had an errand in castle town, Robair fetched the wedding suit, then the barber… So, still think you stand a chance against Robair? I dunno…”

 

“Don't. Make me. Smile. Yet.” Wolfram managed this with expression and tone suitable for asking someone to pass the salt. “I'm relieved you're finally here. Now take a seat. Preferably at the back. Behind someone really large. Could you do that for me. Axel.”

 

Axel skeddaddled. Wolfram filed onto stage with the group. He did the poise while he stood there on passive display for 45 minutes waiting his turn, without a twitch, in a flawlessly aloof almost-pout. His turn. He did the walk. He did the husky bedroom voice. He gave the false-modesty, false-ingenue version of his goals. “To be a bridge between my father's and my mother's people, and serve all the people of Shin Makoku, by becoming the very best officer I can.” He ignored the fit of coughing from Axel and the squad. He did the demure look, down and to the left. He did the hair toss, back up to center. And when the rapt audience thought he was done, plus two heartbeats, he flashed the bishounen smile, with nearly invisible fire-healer halo. He finished with the brief smoldering glance at the judges. He did the walk back to his place in line.

 

He won by a landslide. Robair and Paol took second and third.

 

Von Dienst fairly flew to congratulate him on his victory, grasping Wolfram's hands in rapture. “Tears, cadet! See me wiping these tears from my eyes?” Yup, Wolfram saw - his brilliantly cracked new mentor was leaking down the cheeks - nose running, too. “That was the most… inspiring display of leadership charisma and military potential I've ever seen. Bravo, von Bielenfeld! Bravo!”

 

Wolfram did the demure downward glance. The small confidential smile. Axel came up behind von Dienst and did the boyfriend looks daggers - cool it before you land in the wrong bed tonight. Wolfram belatedly got his attitude off-stage and did a quick reverse to adolescent awkward. Manfred hobbled the quick hide, so he could laugh his ass off without jeopardizing his son's career.

 

Fairly soon, Manfred made a point of telling Wolfram he wouldn't be home that night - enjoy free run of the place. Not a few women had noticed that though Wolfram exuded off-limits, Manfred was a near clone, and not one bit the ingenue. Father and son shared a perfectly matched evil demon smile. And first Axel, then Wolfram, snuck away just as soon as they possibly could.

 

Hours later, luxuriantly toying with Wolfram's belly in Manfred's bachelor pad bath, Axel said, “You know, the amazing thing about von Dienst's praise - it's perfectly true. Warped, but true. You can play an audience like a flute. When your temper's in check, at least.” He nipped Wolfram's nipple. “Show me again - full bishounen smile.”

 

Axel had him run through his full repertoire, multiple times, as though committing every nuance to memory. They made love and played and talked and bathed and made love again until the sun rose. While they changed Manfred's sheets in the morning, before he headed back to Viel's inn for breakfast, Axel dropped the first bombshell.

 

“Oh, Wolfram, by the way. Von Dienst wants us to assemble at oh-nine-hundred. Full dress uniform.”

 

Wolfram launched himself with a pillow to tackle Axel. “You swine! We did it? Axel, did we really manage it?”

 

“Looks like, Wolfram.” Axel's eyes seemed overfull with emotion, but so were Wolfram's. They exchanged a long, deep, lingering kiss, and Axel took his leave.

 

Despite the sleepless night, Wolfram felt he was walking on air to the assembly. And just as he'd hoped, von Dienst announced he was assuming command of the Bielenfeld Regiment at Blood Pledge Castle, company to depart day after next. All hands on leave until nineteen hundred tomorrow, to start immediately following assembly. The troop cheered, led by Sergeant Griesel.

 

Then with great panache, von Dienst presented Wolfram with his officer's commission, signed by Lord Friedrich. Tacky of Friedrich not to present it in person, but no matter. Next von Dienst admonished him that the greatest treasure and asset to any officer, but especially a green one, was a seasoned sergeant. Wolfram's denial held firm - was von Dienst loaning him Griesel?

 

“Fortunately, this troop has the ideal sergeant - Axel?” Axel stepped forward, the second bombshell. Mind moving like molasses, Wolfram took five heartbeats, ten, to register that indeed Axel's uniform had sergeant's insignia, that hadn't been there the day before last. And yesterday… Axel, then later Axel's uniform, had gone missing.

 

Owing to his new commander's stupor, Axel mercifully began his new career by speaking out of turn. “Congratulations, Sir!” Wake up, Wolfram, say your lines.

 

Don't make your sergeant cover your gaffe, idiot, Wolfram chided himself. “Pardon me, Sergeant, you surprised me.” He saluted smartly. “Congratulations on your promotion, Sergeant Axel! Richly deserved!”

 

“Thank you, sir. And on behalf of the entire troop, congratulations on your commission, Sir. Hip, hip -“ HOORAY! Axel led the company in cheering Wolfram. And with minor near-telepathic prompting, Axel nudged Wolfram to lead the company in cheering their new regimental commander. Griesel, smiling benevolently, couldn't, because in theory he'd just been placed outside their chain of command. In practice, Axel was at his mercy for the foreseeable future.

 

Denial beginning to unravel badly, Wolfram nevertheless managed a confidential half smile and personal word with each trooper as he carried out inspection. Axel was last. With Axel, the only man on the field he was truly conscious of, he shared an honest searching look, and dropped his gaze to cover real emotion. “I'd like to see you in my quarters for a word before leave, Sergeant. As soon as I'm available.”

 

“Ha!” Axel barked.

 

Wolfram winced. Hell, I just chewed out my new sergeant at my own promotion ceremony… He looked to von Dienst for permission to dismiss, receiving a nod in return. Axel led the men in another cheer, and they wandered out of earshot of the officers, Griesel clapping Axel on the back and joining them.

 

Von Dienst chuckled, “After your never-melt-butter performance last night, I was afraid our little surprise wouldn't get a reaction out of you. Ha ha! I trust you're pleased with your new sergeant? Griesel assures me he's the best.”

 

“He is. The very best.”

 

Von Dienst smiled at him kindly. “Do be sure to apologize to him, won't you? It's rather an insult to send all the men on leave, but oh sergeant, I want a word with you, you know?” Wolfram nodded penitently. “Well, I hope you'll forgive me for missing your celebration with Lord Friedrich tonight. I think I ought to visit my wife before we decamp.” And with a wink, von Dienst was off.

 

And Wolfram was alone. The troop was joking around, laughing, making plans, rough-housing. A few jokers did the chicken-dance manifestation, a silly majutsu cooperative drill they'd dreamed up. As an officer, it was absolutely inappropriate for Wolfram to join his men at playtime, ever again. Wolfram nodded to them stiffly, in case any were looking, and walked back to his father's house. Alone with his sword, as he'd been the day Axel befriended him half a year ago. Axel was right. This job is going to take every ounce of shallow acting skill I've got. Axel…

 

But his mind skittered away from Axel. He wandered lost into Manfred's empty dining room, feeling vaguely that an empty table was a good “office” for this interview. For some reason, his mind wandered to dour brother Gwendal. He'd always secretly suspected Gwendal was laughing at him behind his back. At this blank table, with this blank new future stretching before him, the only real friends he'd ever had stretched behind him, he thought otherwise. Gwendal must be incredibly lonely. If you laugh at me, Gwendal… I'd be glad you could laugh.

 

Axel must have torn himself loose from the playpile as soon as he socially could, for fairly soon he knocked, entered, saluted. “Sir.”

 

“At ease, Sergeant,” Wolfram said, attempting a smile. “Have a seat, Axel.”

 

Axel licked his lip. “I'd… prefer to stand. Sir. Permission to speak freely, sir.”

 

“Of course. But, first… I owe you an apology. I asked you here socially, and I shouldn't have asked you that way. You just… surprised me. I'm sorry.”

 

Axel smiled sadly. “I understand. Sir.”

 

Wolfram prodded, “Permission to speak freely? Your turn.”

 

“Sir, with respect, for the good of the troop… for our own good… I believe our… personal relationship… is over now. Sir.”

 

Wolfram stared at him, panic edging into anger. “You… last night… you blindsided me. You lied to me. Now you're dumping me? God damn it, Axel! You knew… all of this! And you told me nothing!”

 

“Sir… Wolfram…” Axel looked away. “I thought… I wanted one last night together. Really together. If we'd both known it was the last night… Well. It would have been a very different night. Because you didn't know… I could pretend I didn't. It was selfish. But I thought it would make a better good-bye. And then, the bad good-bye… this one… I'd just… stand here and take it. Sir.”

 

“We don't have to -“

 

“With respect, we do have to. Sir.”

 

“Did Griesel -- ?”

 

“This was my decision, sir. But… Griesel also spoke to me about it yesterday afternoon, on von Dienst's behalf. I had last night's leave, then when I put on my uniform this morning, we were over as lovers. It's irrevocable. It's… also the right choice, sir.”

 

“For whom?” Wolfram banged his fist on the table, losing control of his anguish momentarily. A brief sheet of flame skated across. No harm done - it was a marble table top.

 

“Sir - Wolfram. Damn it, for this conversation… Wolfram. It was always going to end this way. Surely you knew that? You're highest aristocracy. I'm a simple soldier. Your marriage might be for love or politics, but it will be to an aristocrat. I'll end up with a soldier's daughter, or another soldier. We had something to do together, you and I… No. We have something to do together. We've only now begun! But as lovers - that was doomed from the start. You must know that. Damn it, Wolfram!”

 

Axel's voice dropped to a pleading whisper. “Don't make me wrong for this alone. I know I'm the elder, more experienced. I know I started it. But, please Wolfram, don't put it all on me. You're breaking my heart. Please tell me you understand.”

 

“Yes. Intellectually. I understand. And I know that you're right. And it's my fault… not yours… that I didn't - that I didn't want to - see this coming.”

 

Don't say `dismissed', Wolfram begged himself. I can't hold him, can't kiss him good-bye, but damn it, I can't just kick him out so I can have a good cry, either. Somehow, we have to - no I have to, it's my job - plot a route to get from here to a commander / sergeant relationship. It's the least he deserves. This is Axel. I can trust him. What he could do, he's done right. Just… keep talking a while. For now.

 

“Yesterday,” Wolfram said conversationally, “that was the errand in castle town that you disappeared for? Your promotion ceremony? I'm very sorry I missed that.”

 

“Yes,” said Axel gratefully. “You… were supposed to be invited. I asked Griesel to fix it so your ceremony was after the Pageant. But that meant you missed my promotion and didn't get the fancy speech from Friedrich. But I thought… it'd go better this way.”

 

“Thank you,” Wolfram breathed. “I intend to trust your judgment implicitly, Sergeant. Shinou help us if you return the honor - I'm green as grass. So… nice speech, then?”

 

“Yeah, great speech. Thought I'd cry - a lot of the guys did. Including von Dienst and Griesel.” That riveted Wolfram's attention.

 

“Friedrich said my promotion was three years overdue. I was recommended by Commander von Liszt and Sergeants Abram and Dovid the first time, but they died before Friedrich even got their letters, so he left the decision to the next commander. Then von Eriks and Sergeant Bionde recommended me as soon as they got settled in. They died while Friedrich's approval letter was on its way. Commander Chaswick and Sergeant Buford inherited the letter eventually, and wrote back to Friedrich endorsing the promotion. But they requested confirmation, since by then, in effect, it would be an automatic field commission straight from junior trooper to Regimental Commander, because I'd be the only Bielenfeld above the rank of trooper. So Friedrich told them no. He didn't want a green sergeant left - quote - holding the bag for an entire broken regiment, in the most thoroughly fucked-up disaster of a military compaign he'd ever seen - unquote. So he requested Chaswick find a way to treat me as if I were a sergeant, but postpone the promotion indefinitely.

 

“When von Dienst agreed to take you on as a cadet, he had Griesel look into why I wasn't a sergeant yet, and they recommended me for immediate promotion. I'm afraid von Dienst also spoke out of turn, sir. He claimed you also intended to recommend me for promotion, as soon as you had the right. Probably not true, but…

 

“So Friedrich apologized to me. He handed me three years' sergeant's back pay, retroactive to my first reccomendation for promotion, plus 50 percent bonus, and a medal.” Axel pulled the medal out of his pocket and shyly extended it to Wolfram. “It's really a Bielenfeld medal of valor, which doesn't apply, but… Friedrich said it was for stunning creativity and the resourcefulness to find a way where there was none, holding the squad together and getting us advanced training. A fair bit of this medal was for catching you, sir. And for you catching von Dienst, I think. It's your medal, too.”

 

“Not at all, Sergeant. I owe you at least as much as the rest of the squad. More… I was just a lonely kid looking for someone to play with. I probably would have even wimped out of that. You're the one who saw the possibilities.” He handed Axel's medal back. “Well earned. Richly deserved. And a lot better officers than me concur - you're one hell of a sergeant. I'm very sorry I missed that speech. But not at all sorry you rigged it the way you did. Thank you.”

 

They fell into silence a minute. Dismiss him now? Tell him… I love him? “Axel, I - thank you. There aren't words - well. There are, but perhaps they shouldn't be said now. Thank you, for everything. I've never owed anyone such a debt.”

 

“No. It was a gift, not a loan. I got as good as I gave, and more. …Thank you, too. Sir.”

 

Now. That's enough for now. Wolfram stood. “Have a great leave, then, Sergeant. Give my love to your mother in case I don't see her.” As though I'd run into the laundry woman at a dinner party for von Bielenfeld peers… “I'm… looking forward to a bright future for the troop. We'll have time enough to talk about plans, on the road to Shin Makoku.”

 

“Yes, sir. Good leave, sir.” Axel saluted and left.

 

-oOo-

 

“You eventually came home and took me to Friedrich's reception, while Griesel threw a big bash for Axel and the squad at Viel's inn. Axel definitely got the better party... We never touched each other again. The End.”

 

“Mm, no. Keep going,” said Manfred. “You haven't found the end yet.”

 

“It damned well was the end of my love affair with Axel. What is it with your fetish for the beginning and end of everything?”

 

“You can't see it whole if you're only looking at the middle. When you can see it whole, you can handle it.”

 

“We both know full well what the end was. Axel went berserk and got himself killed. I was unconscious at the time. We didn't chat.”

 

“Well, that may have re-opened the story on Axel's part, then sadly closed it for him. But that's supposition, and it's not your story. The task was to tell me the story of your relationship with Axel.”

 

“I told you - I never touched him again after that day.”

 

“Mm… Nor anyone else. Not even your fiancé. For twenty years. I'm sorry, son, but you haven't found the end yet. Keep going.”

 

-oOo-

 

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