Kyou Kara Maou Fan Fiction ❯ Between Two Worlds ❯ Uncle Comes Calling ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: I do not own Kyou Kara Maou

Disclaimer: I do not own Kyou Kara Maou. Tomo Takabayashi does.

Summary: Young Wolfram's world is thrown into chaos when his uncle Waltorana attempts to gain his custody from Celi.

Title: Between Two Worlds

Ch.1 Uncle Comes Calling

The bright sun beamed down its warm, golden rays upon the head of Wolfram vonBielefield, who was in the garden of Covenant Castle, viscously ripping off the heads of dandelions and imagining they were the ladies of the court, his mother's gossiping, busy-body friends, who had dared to pinch his cheeks until they were bruised, muss his hair until it was a untidy cowl, and attempted to squeeze the breath out of him when they had gone in for a suffocating hug, much like how one cuddles a pet dog.

 

The result of the ladies' actions, especially the hug, had not boded well for Wolfram's temperament, which was rather short-lived. His oldest brother, Gwendal often remarked he had mood-swings as swift as lightning strikes and as violent as a volcanic eruption. Everyone in the castle knew it best not to upset the youngest son of the Demon Queen for the sake of their own well-being, not from any ruling authority but from the young prince himself. It was no secret that Wolfram possessed the fire element as his magic and used it to the extent of almost deranged enthusiasm.

 

There was no excuse. The court ladies really should have known better.

 

The servants and guards all agreed later on that the final conclusion of Wolfram vengefully setting the ladies' huge frilly dresses on fire and the women's hysterical shrieking with added over-dramatic actions such as fainting spells and theatrical tears caused more pandemonium than any of Anissina's Experiments of DOOM ever had. The ladies had wailed and carried on as if they were dying even when the last simmers of steam had ceased rising from the charred remains of their fine gowns.

 

“That horrid little beast!” one lady had managed to accuse through her histrionics, “He should be given a good thrashing!”

 

“M-m-monster!” another cried, trembling from either anger of fear, or perhaps both, “He should be punished severely! He almost killed us all!”

 

This statement seemed to remind the ladies that they were supposed to be in the midst of an exaggerated display of fits and proceeded where they had left off with their shrieking and tears.

 

Wolfram, having now finished uprooting and plucking off the heads of all the dandelions, moved onto the goldenrods, his face set in a sulking glare as he recalled his mother's words on the matter.

 

“Wolfram, baby, you can't just set people who upset you on fire,” Celi said, looking terribly amused and trying desperately hard not to laugh.

 

“They're awful, ugly old crones!” Wolfram had declared boisterously so the ladies would hear him over their dramatic staging, “Why don't they all go back to the swamps they crawled out of?”

 

He had been sent to weed out the garden for that last proclamation although the ladies were insulted at their attacker receiving so light a punishment and demanded a more just retribution than that. Celi had attempted to mollify them, however Wolfram still managed to thumb his nose at them all and stick out his tongue before he was hastily escorted from their sight.

 

I hope they all grow warts and turn into toads, Wolfram thought maliciously as he non-too gently uprooted another goldenrod from the ground.

 

“What's this?” came a familiar voice suddenly, “My favorite nephew, a royal prince, weeding the garden like a commoner?”

 

“Ojii-san!” Wolfram exclaimed happily, leaping up and running to his uncle, flinging his arms around the man as far as they would go.

 

Waltorana smiled down upon his nephew who had buried his face into the front of his vest. The boy was getting taller. His head now came just above his stomach; the last time he had visited him, he was barely the height of his knee.

 

He's growing up too quickly, Waltorana mused, his eyebrows furrowing slighty, All the more reason for me to have returned when I have.

 

“Well, are you going to tell me the reason you were elbow deep in dirt or shall I dig up the story out of some servant like you were digging up those weeds?” Waltorana asked teasingly, placing a hand on his nephew's head.

 

Wolfram swiftly related his tale of horror to his uncle about the evil court ladies, their grabbing hands, how he had solved the problem with his element and his getting in trouble for it, watching as his uncle's face closely as his expression changed from amused to one he couldn't quite identify: somewhere between concerned and vexed, though not at him, persay.

 

“Your mother still keeps that pack of idle gossip-mongers about her then?” Waltorana inquired, his voice terse.

 

Wolfram nodded, wondering if it was too much to hope for that his uncle take his side and allow him the joy of burning the remains of the ladies' dresses and perhaps their hair as well.

 

“No doubt she lends an ear to their soft whisperings concerning how the kingdom could function best,” Waltorana murmured, more to himself than to Wolfram.

 

“Are you going to stay a long while this time, Uncle?” Wolfram asked, not really understanding the meaning of the previous statement.

 

“Until a certain affair of mine has been settled,” Waltorana responded, giving his nephewa long, full look, before redistributing his gaze to a place over Wolfram's shoulder, and his expression hardening.

 

Turning around, Wolfram saw Conrart standing beside one of the garden's short shrubs with a rather stoic countenance. Though he wasn't too sure, Wolfram often thought that his uncle didn't like Conrart for some reason. He supposed he must be imagining things, because his uncle seemed fine with Gwendal. He wasn't overly-friendly towards his oldest brother, but he at least respected him.

 

“Wolfram, mother says it's time for your swordsmanship lesson,” Conrart addressed his younger brother, though his gaze never left Waltorana.

 

“Really?” Wolfram shouted, amazed and ecstatic.

 

As young as he was, he didn't get regular practice with a sword like his two older brothers. Sometimes, though, Celi would relent and let him train for a short while. What puzzled him though, was why his mother decided to do that today of all days, especially when he was supposed to “toil away the sins of his crimes” according to one of the ladies.

 

Now he was being offered a reward? Had Celi finally grown annoyed at them too?

 

“What about me weeding out the garden?” Wolfram asked, hesitating.

 

“Mother says forget it. You're to come with me and we'll spar. Mother wants to have a talk with Sir vonBielefield,” Conrart said solemnly, before turning and walking away.

 

“Wolfram,” his uncle spoke before he could follow, “You know humans are no good, right? Never trust one. They are full of lies and deceit.”

 

“All right, Uncle,” Wolfram said, staring at Waltorana's face, which was riddled with frown-lines, “I'll remember.”

 

Wolfram hurried quickly to catch up with his brother, wondering why his uncle had chosen to bring up the topic of humans so suddenly and why Conrart's gait was so stiff and tense.

oOoOoOo

 

It had been an eventful and particularly good day for Wolfram. Not only had he flambéed some air-headed females, he had gotten to practice sword-fighting and his uncle had come for a visit! Wolfram was positively bursting with happiness as he swung his feet to and fro from his seat at the dining table, waiting for dinner.

 

“Guess what, Aniue?” Wolfram gushed excitedly as Gwendal joined him at the table, “Uncle Waltorana has come to visit me!”

 

“Yes, I know,” Gwendal said tersely, his knuckles unconsciously clenching.

 

“I hope he brought me present,” Wolfram voiced out loud, “Maybe a pony! Then I could go riding with you and Conrart without one of you carrying me.”

 

Gwendal said nothing, and only pursed his lips tightly.

 

Conrart, who was already seated at the table, gazed worriedly at him and opened his mouth to speak, but halted when Celi and Waltorana entered the room.

 

Celi held herself in a very strained manner as she walked towards the table, her eyes hurling daggers at Waltorana as she sat in her chair. Waltorana, himself seemed taunt, however there was an air of superiority as he took a seat, as if he had gained the upper hand in some hidden matter.

 

The meal that evening consisted of silence except the dinging noises of silverware on plates and Wolfram's babbling chatter, oblivious to the thundercloud that loomed over the table.

 

“What would you say to me taking you to Bielefield for a while, Wolfram?” Waltorana asked his nephew, ignoring the sharp intake of breath from Celi.

“Really? Like a visit?” Wolfram inquired delighted. The day kept getting better and better!

 

“Yes, something like that,” his uncle said, appearing pleased at his nephew's enthusiasm.

 

“Yay! I'd love to!” Wolfram cried joyfully, throwing his hands up in the air, spork and all.

 

“Well, perhaps when there's time, we'll see if a trip is available,” Celi spoke up, her voice heavily laced with nettle.

 

“Oh, I have plenty of time, Cecile. Time's no issue for me. We could set out tomorrow,” Waltorana said, sounding faintly amused.

 

“I was not referring to you, you insufferable intermeddler,” Celi hissed as she tightened her grip on her wine-glass, her hand shaking with repressed rage, “As the Demon Queen, I have duties that are time-consuming and must be looked into before I dabble into things entertainment-wise.”

 

“Strange,” Waltorana stated as he neatly cut through his meat with one swift slide of his knife, “From what I've heard as news, your `time-consuming duties' seem to have slipped into the hands of your brother, Stoffel, while you are known to throw lavish parties that sometimes last for days.”

 

“You should not believe such ridiculous rumors!” Celi retorted, her face aflame with fury and embarrassment.

 

“But you did throw a party last week, Mother!” Wolfram piped in, beginning to see a bit of the tension that was clearly evident to the others and wanting to ease the discomfort somehow, “Remember that drunk baron who threw up in the punch bowl?”

 

“Quiet, Wolfram!” his mother snapped, but the damage had been done.

 

“Were you at this party, Wolfram?” his uncle inquired in a dangerously soft tone, no longer looking amused.

 

“I always go to Mother's parties,” Wolfram said, puffing out his chest proudly, “Because I'm your escort, right, Mother? I'm the one who sends away all the people she doesn't want to talk to. I allowed to set them on fire.”

 

Wolfram blinked as he looked around the table not understanding family's different expressions. If Gwendal's frown grew any more deeper, it would certainly become a permanent impression; and Conrart's look of pain as if someone had kneed him in the gut worried the young boy. Celi, herself, was staring at Waltorana haughtily, as if daring him to say something. And his uncle seemed to be caught between shock and outrage.

 

Several long seconds passed, before Waltorana found his voice and when he spoke, it was in a firm, grim tone, “We discussed this matter earlier, Cecile. You gave me your word on the boy's proper upbringing and now am regretting on not coming sooner. I am leaving tomorrow and taking Wolfram with me.”

 

Wolfram supposed at that moment, he should have realized something was terribly wrong, however it was not until his mother's next response that jolted him to the core of how serious the situation was.

 

“You, you-WRETCH!” Celi screamed at his uncle, jumping up and flinging her the contents of her wine-glass in his face.

 

“I do not know what my poor late brother ever saw in the likes of you, Cecile vonSpitzveg!” Waltorana thundered, standing upright, running a napkin over his face and flinging it violently onto the table, “There's only one good thing that ever came out of your nuptial vows and that is Wolfram, and I will not stand by and watch him be corrupted by your misguided, sullied ideals!”

 

It was utter chaos in the next following minutes. Wolfram's memories of it later on were rather blurred. He was confused and frightened at the loud shouting his mother and uncle were doing and remembered bursting out into tears and asking them to stop, to which neither of them seemed to hear him. The next thing he knew, Conrart's arms had enveloped him and Wolfram had buried himself into the warmth and secure ness they offered. He recalled being carried out of the dining room quickly and seeing Gwendal's broad back as both his brothers hastened down the castle's hallways and corridors until they had reached their intended destination and had barricaded themselves inside. Then Conrart had held Wolfram until his younger brother's tears had run out.

 

“M-M-Mother's being m-mean to Ojii-san!” Wolfram wailed, lifting his puffy red face up from his brother's shirt.

 

“Your uncle's being pretty rude himself!” Gwendal retorted before he could stop himself, thus resulting in Wolfram throwing an intense temper tantrum.

 

The young boy may not have had any fluid left in eyes to cry, but his lungs proved themselves to be quite healthy as the room was swiftly filled with ear-piercing screams. Wolfram really had no idea why he was even throwing a tantrum. He was simply confused, worried and upset all at one time and released his emotions the only way he knew how.

 

When the boy's temperament grew to the extreme of having small flickering flames of fire flare-up around him, Conrart decided enough was enough.

 

“Stop it, Wolfram,” his brother said in a no-nonsense manner, “This is Anissina's lab. You might accidentally start up one of her experiments.”

 

Wolfram quickly halted his violent outburst and stared wide-eyed about their surroundings taking in the strange contraptions and odd-fangled gadgets strewn about the place at random.

 

“Why are we here?” he asked “I thought Anuie said if anybody ever went into Anissina's lab they'd end up talking like a seal, sprouting chicken feathers and walking backwards for the rest of their lives.”

 

Gwendal had the grace enough to blush and cleared his throat hastily, “Yes, well…I may have…exaggerated a bit. The point is, no one will dare set foot here, so we're safe until we think up a plan.”

 

“A plan for what?” Wolfram questioned, his eyelids drooping slightly.

 

“Keeping you here with us and Mother where you belong and possibly finding a way to make your uncle disappear without raising questions,” Gwendal stated, “Do you suppose Anissina has an invention could turn him into a slug?”

 

“Gwendal!” Conrart chided frowning and braced himself, half-expecting Wolfram to throw another tantrum, but the young boy was strangely quiet.

 

He thought Wolfram might have fallen asleep from all the past excitement until a small sad forlorn voice broke the air.

 

“Why are Uncle and Mother fighting? Is it because of me?”

 

“Your uncle doesn't think Mother is raising you up the right way, or rather, he thinks he can do a better job,” Gwendal explained in a huff, folding his arms across his chest, “He's trying to gain your custody so you'll be in charge of your living conditions and upbringing. And his idea of the best way to rear you is to keep you as far way from Mother and us.”

 

“T-T-That's not true, is it, Conrart?” Wolfram asked, his voice quaking in disbelief, “Uncle wouldn't do something that cruel, would he?”

 

Conrart turned his head away from his younger brother, not wanting to see those hurt green eyes, before he answered softly, “He doesn't think it's cruel, just something necessary.”

 

“Liar!” Wolfram yelled, glaring up at him, “You don't like Ojii-san! You never did! That's probably why he doesn't like you!”

 

“WOLFRAM!” Gwendal barked out in a voice that sent chills up the young boy's spine, “There is no need to take your frustration out on Conrart! This is all your precious uncle's doing! Do you want to live with him?”

 

When Wolfram failed to respond right away and seemed to find the floor entirely fascinating, Gwendal took offense.

 

“I see. So that's how it is,” he said quietly, turning away in a disgusted manner.

The sound of Wolfram's sniffles echoed throughout the lab's four walls.

 

“That's not fair to ask him to choose, Gwendal,” Conrart said, drawing his younger brother close, “He's just a child.”

 

 

“Yes, he's just a child who knows hardly anything about life and is young enough to have other people's opinions and views easily influence the way he thinks. Do you really want him to grow up under Waltorana's teachings, Conrart? You of all people?” Gwendal asked almost accusingly.

 

Conrart's complexion turned rather pallid and he held Wolfram tighter.

 

“But there's no need to worry, is there?” he asked, “Mother is the Demon Queen. Surely her word is law. She won't let his uncle take him away.”

 

Gwendal scoffed at such a proclamation and chuckled dryly, “Ha! Waltorana made one good point. Mother is Queen only in title. Uncle Stoffel is her puppet-master and her parenting skills are poorly lacking even though she does love us dearly. If he wants to take Wolfram and makes a strong enough case, he'll have every right to. After all, it's not as though he's a distant relative. Wolfram's father was his own brother.”

 

“We can't…let him take Wolfram away.”

 

Conrart's voice shook when he spoke, making Gwendal realize again how young his brother was, despite his older appearance due to his human genes. He was only a couple of decades older than Wolfram.

 

“We won't let him. I promise,” Gwendal said, his expression relaxing as he knelt down beside his two younger brothers and encircled both of them in his arms, “We'll think of something.”

 

The three brothers stayed in that tightly-knitted group the whole night, soothing their minds' anxious distress with the warmth and closeness of each others' bodies and a bond that they all shared-unwavering, unbroken-a bond of love.

 

To Be Continued…

 

A/N: So, how many of you, after watching the second episode of Season 3 were captivated by the brief scene of Wolfram and his uncle and the strain it places upon Wolfram's relationship with his brothers? :raises hand: Me! Me! I can not wait for the third episode and hope I see more Waltorana in the future. Sorry if I got any facts wrong. I only watch the anime and lurk in the KKM LJ comms so I will understand and know anything not revealed in the show. Please review, tell me what you thought of my fic, and I love seeing you quote your favorite parts! Thank you!