Kyou Kara Maou Fan Fiction ❯ Inexorable Flow ❯ Part 8 ( Chapter 8 )

Rotsan: It's not an M-preg fic.

 

Sheinah: This fic seems to have more sex scenes than anything…

Well, right now Yuuri is not going to do anything that would endanger his and Wolfram's marriage.

Kyota…heh, well, the guys has quite big balls. And a dick that can never stay still…

This chapter though… Ah, would you believe me that according to my original plan Wolfram had to meet his Entrusted Lady already in chapter 4? Anyways, not happening again. I just got another “wonderful” idea.

 

 

 

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), Yuuri x Wolfram. Some other pairings. Angst. Adult topics.

A/N 1: Age: Yuuri - 32. Wolfram…let's say he is about the same age as Yuuri just a little older.

 

Inexorable Flow

 

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Melisenda

 

Part 8

 

The sun was high in the sky, the clouds nowhere to be seen. Shielding his eyes, Leahir Sandel cast a glance at the azure above his head. The yellow, pulsing orb glared back at him, and the man lost all hope that the heat would let up anytime soon. Sighing, he unclasped the leather strap that was holding the sword on his back and propped it against the wall of the stable building. After the weight was gone, he stretched and leaned against the wall, next to his sword. There were many other men in the yard, standing here and there, and leaning against the same wall that he was. After looking around, Leahir counted about thirty soldiers wearing varicolored uniforms. The sweating soldiers, just as he was, were watching the dueling men in the middle of the yard. With a loud yawn, Leahir's attention went back to the Prince Consort and his childhood friend.

 

Wolfram parried Kyota's attack, and their wooden swords clashed in wild fury. The two of them strained against each other, trying to push the other back. Gritting their teeth and panting, they did not want to give up even a millimeter of the dusty ground. Kyota was stronger and soon began overwhelming the blond. He gave the prince a strained grin and pushed harder. The smirk turned into a surprised grunt as Wolfram twisted aside abruptly, making Kyota's blade slide over his. The blond dropped to the ground, landing on his side, and Kyota lurched forward, off balance, when suddenly faced with no resistance; his body too slow to react. Rolling and kicking Kyota's left leg from under him, Wolfram quickly stood above Kyota, the tip of his sword making a small dent in the soft tissue of his blue-haired friend's neck.

 

Leahir rolled his eyes. Kyota really sucked at swordplay.

 

His eyes watering from the dispersing dust around him, Kyota stared up at the prince, then, admitting defeat, let his body relax. As soon as his head and arms dropped to the dirty ground, the pressure of the sword-tip at his neck disappeared. Kyota took the offered hand and was pulled to his feet. He stuck his wooden sword into the ground and just stood like that, panting, trying to get his breath back. After a minute he started dusting his uniform off.

 

Wolfram watched his friend becoming more presentable then motioned with his head in Leahir's direction. “Is he any good at swordplay?”

 

With his eyes, Kyota followed the direction Wolfram indicated, glancing toward the stable wall where about five men stood. “Who? Leahir? Well, he's better than me,” he said. “But his specialty is two-handed swords.”

 

“One can't be good with two-handed swords without being good with one,” Wolfram muttered.

 

“True,” Kyota agreed. “Want to try him?”

 

Wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of one hand, the prince shook his head. “Not today. This heat is going to kill me.”

 

Kyota lifted his head then squinted as the sun hit his eyes. “Indeed.”

 

“So... did you get sex in the end?”

 

A little startled at the sudden change in topic, Kyota looked at Wolfram who was also leaning on his wooden sword and watching him with an unreadable expression in his eyes.

 

“Yeah, I did,” Kyota nodded. He waited for the blond to say something, but he was silent. Kyota suspected he knew what might have caused this. “Do you always sneak around behind closed doors?” he asked.

 

His friend chuckled darkly. “Yeah, I do. But this time I didn't even need to - you two were shouting so loudly that it nearly burst my eardrums.” Wolfram sighed. “It's not my place to preach to you, but seriously, Kyota, he won't come back.”

 

“Yeah,” Kyota muttered.

 

Wolfram cast a glance at the other side of the training area, at the man wearing Wolfram's own colors, who was sitting on the ground, near the far wall, watching him and Kyota sparring. He had spoken with the soldier and assured him that no grudge was held for what had happened. Nevertheless, it seemed that he had not convinced the soldier. Apparently he still believed that the prince was harboring intentions of revenge. The soldier was afraid that he might be humiliated in his comrades' eyes or demoted in rank. If anyone had asked Wolfram, he would have said that if he were angry, he would have shipped him away from the Castle on the day of the accident. Another thing Wolfram would have said if anyone had asked him, would have been that instead of demotion, he would have awarded the man a medal for causing all that tension between him and his husband to dissolve. Wolfram would agree to be whacked in the face again, if that improved his and Yuuri's relationship.

 

Wolfram still hadn't resumed his search for an appropriate woman. He was waiting for his face to heal. Women reacted quite sensitively to bruises and missing teeth, and he did not want to give the impression of a brainless brute, which might lead to a rocky start of what would be a long relationship. It would take an additional month and a half for the teeth to grow back, but he didn't want to waste any time. He wanted to be done with this as soon as possible.

 

“Your Highness?”

 

Wolfram and Kyota turned to see Gwendal's Lieutenant General appeared.

 

“What is it?” Wolfram asked.

 

The soldier came up to Wolfram then bowed. “His Majesty orders Your Highness to join the forces in the west of Shin Makoku. There's a group of Mazoku raiders carrying out attacks against Humans and…”

 

“I know the situation,” Wolfram interrupted him with an abrupt wave of his left hand. “Why am I needed there?”

 

The Lieutenant General bowed once again. “Yesterday night, our squad was attacked. They barely managed to defend themselves and experienced great losses, including their First-in-Command. A new squad is going to be dispatched within a few hours.”

 

Wolfram nodded. “Alright.” He turned toward those of his men that were lounging around. “Shardan, Juhen and Marin, you three are coming with me. And someone find Wasdan. Tell him to get to my study immediately.” He turned back to the Lieutenant General. “Let's go.”

 

“Yes, Your Highness,” the man nodded. “The maps are ready. I'll explain the details once we get to the study.”

 

“Wolfram…”

 

Wolfram made an abrupt motion with his hand then threw his wooden sword for Kyota to catch. “Dismissed.”

 

“Yes, Your Highness,” Kyota gave a reluctant nod.

 

Wolfram ignored Kyota's frustrated expression and followed the Lieutenant General. He still had no idea why he was needed in those backwater villages. Unless Yuuri felt that sending Gwendal's Lieutenant General to end those attacks would be like trying to kill a fly with a cannon. Sending his own Lieutenant General would have about the same effect. Since Yuuri had been in favor of Doesha in its battle with Kalara, Konrad and his men were away to help defend the country. That left him as the best one available. Even so, Yuuri knew that he hated getting involved in racial fights between Humans and Mazoku.

 

Once in Wolfram's study, the Lieutenant General started bringing him up to speed on the new situation and spread the maps out onto the wide desk.

 

Five minutes later the door flew open, startling the men in the study. The burly and tall man who entered was met with respectful nods.

 

“Your Highness,” Wolfram's Lieutenant General bowed. “I apologize for being late,” he said, while walking over to the desk where the maps lay. The man had a wide open face, graying hair of average length and a short beard that was also showing signs of age.

 

Going back to studying the maps, Wolfram waved it off. “I'm going away on a mission. I'll probably return in a week or two. You'll be in charge while I'm gone.”

 

Herman Wasdan bowed, accepting the orders. But a flash of concern showed in the grayish eyes. “Sir, may I advise that since there has already been an attempt on Your Highness' life, it is not wise to…”

 

“It's His Majesty's command. Don't question it,” Wolfram said.

 

“Oh. I beg forgiveness,” the man said, bowing, but it was obvious that he was more confused and suspicious than sorry. And Wolfram had to agree with him. According to Yuuri's orders of two weeks ago, he was forbidden to leave the Castle without a double escort. Now this… Of course any soldier would find it strange.

 

Well, maybe it was alright, Wolfram decided. Maybe the two of them needed a little time apart to cool their heads. Actually, he was already looking forward to the trip.

 

It took about an hour to get ready. As the orders had been hurried and time was short, Wolfram just sent a soldier to Yuuri to report his affirmative answer. He packed some clothes and toiletries, leaving one of his men to take care of food supplies. He considered taking a moment to leave Yuuri a note in their chamber, but decided that Yuuri knew where he was going and why. And he was sure that Yuuri knew how he felt, so why lose time he didn't have saying what was already known. After saying goodbye to Kyota and the ménage, he went outside to find his horse and food ready.

 

Once in the saddle, Wolfram cast a quick glance over the thirty assembled men. Underneath the sizzling sun there were five rows of six, sitting on their horses, waiting for the order to move out. Besides its rider, every horse was carrying bedrolls or blankets tied to the saddle backs and food in waterproof sacks. Some had small, tightly packed tents to be shared by the men and cooking gear was spread throughout the company.

 

Wolfram knew most men in the first row. Three of them were his bodyguards that he had personally selected to accompany him. Other three had familiar faces, but the men wore the von Voltaire's uniforms, meaning he had already seen them either with his brother or in some military action. The rest of the troops were from mixed Houses, the variety of their colored uniforms immediately indicating that whoever was leading these men was doing so at His Majesty's order.

 

“We are ready, Your Highness.”

 

Despite holding the rank general, Wolfram knew that beyond giving him the right to command the von Bielefeld army, his rank lacked reality. He was an excellent strategist, but he could not compare himself to either his, Gwendal's or Conrart's lieutenant generals. Or Kyota, not to mention Gwendal himself. Wolfram never harbored illusions about himself dishing out orders in a middle of a battle, when there were men who knew their business better than him. That would happen only in emergency cases when there was no one else more capable to lead the men.

 

Wolfram nodded at the captain. He urged his horse in the direction of the gate.

 

“Move out!” the captain bellowed. “Three in a row!”

 

The column of soldiers started moving, forming rows of three. Wolfram's bodyguards caught up with him; they would take their orders only from the prince, unless instructed otherwise. The squad passed the gate and headed down the hill.

 

The villages lay two days away from the Castle. Most of the roads led through woodlands, so Wolfram expected it to be cooler once into the countryside. It was the very middle of the day, the sun making his shirt stick to his already sweaty skin. Wolfram's optimistic mood started dissipating under the heat, his mind wandering to all whys and hows of this mission.

 

XXXXX

 

The sun was just barely still above the horizon, but the day was still bright when first raindrops started falling. Wolfram looked up into the sky. Only a few dark clouds were swimming above them. The unpredictable part of the summer was already over, and Wolfram had expected no sudden changes in the weather. The drops were scarce and soon the drizzle stopped altogether. But half an hour later, the rain returned full force, making the men dig into their sacks for waterproof cloaks. The pelting rain slowed the party down, hindering the visibility, turning the steep slopes into dangerous slides.

 

Wolfram was already considering setting up the tents under the rain, when he heard the sound of rushing water somewhere on the left side of the road. After sending the captain to find out more, it appeared that there was an abandoned mill nearby. At Wolfram's command, they turned left and soon the trees revealed an old dilapidated building with a couple of additional side structures that were in ruins. It seemed that one of them had burned down a long time ago, and now tufts of grass were growing in between the blackened bulks. While they were approaching, a startled deer shot out off the open door of the main building and disappeared deep in the forest.

 

The mill became obsolete when the river was diverted and the stream that was left was no longer enough to turn the wheel. Then, the family who had lived here, long ago moved to a village that used to be somewhere nearby. Later the village lost all its inhabitants to plague and it was never restored either. Now, only during rainy days like this, when the water level in the old river bed would rise, the mill could be reminded of its past days.

 

The men tied their horses under nearby trees, took their belongings and bundled into the mill. Inside, some small critters whisked deeper into the shadowy depths of the building. The mill smelled of mold, and when stepped on, the board right next to the threshold broke. Luckily no one was hurt. There were quite a few streamlets pouring straight through the ceiling, proving that the roof was as holey as a colander and that the upper floor was in even worse condition than the ground floor.

 

The ground-floor had three windows that were chipped and blackened. It seemed that somebody had tried to live here even after the plague: some pieces of rags were dangling from the windows and trembled at every gust of wind. The mechanism itself took up the biggest part of the mill. It was hard to tell in this half-light, but very likely the dark and hulking machinery was also rotten and worm-eaten, the parts that had been made of iron rusted. Wolfram was sure that it would be better not to touch it, just in case it decided to fall apart right on the soldiers' heads.

 

Wolfram gripped his bag of belongings tighter and turned to the stairs that were leading upstairs. He intended to check and see if it would be a good place for him to set up his bedding, then have dinner and go to sleep. It was obvious that nothing better could be done in this weather. Sighing, he grasped the railing. All he needed now was to sink right through these rotten stairs.

 

Wolfram jerked in surprise as someone's hands wrapped around his waist in an overly familiar manner.

 

“And why does my delicate flower look so upset?” a voice asked over the sounds of the gushing rain and the river outside.

 

Wolfram's head whipped around to stare at the grinning face in disbelief.

 

“Hey, you!” One of Wolfram's bodyguards shoved the man away from the prince. “What do you think you're doing?!” he yelled at the man who staggered, tried to find his footing, but stumbled and then landed on his backside with a loud “oof”. The floor creaked dangerously.

 

“Stop this instant, idiot!” Wolfram pushed the bodyguard aside. He hurried to the sitting man. “You alright, Yuuri?”

 

Yuuri nodded. “Yeah, I'm fine.” He took his husband's offered hand and was pulled up. He rubbed his aching backside. “Serves me right,” he chuckled.

 

“Your Majesty!” The bodyguard, who had pushed Yuuri, immediately drew up and saluted then started apologizing.

 

It was hard to see in the half-light of the mill, but soon the soldiers recognized the brown-haired man dressed in the Voltaire army uniform as their ruler. The captain and a few men suppressed their smiles, as they had already identified the man trailing near the end of the column as their king earlier.

 

Wolfram looked at Yuuri for a few long moments then just shifted the sack on his back to get it more comfortable and continued towards the stairs. He could hear Yuuri giving quick explanations and dismissing the soldiers, then Yuuri's steps caught up with him when he was almost at the top of the inconceivably creaking stairs. He thought that Yuuri was an idiot to be climbing after him - the stairs were barely managing to deal with his weight alone.

 

“Are you mad at me?” Yuuri asked softly.

 

Wolfram shook his head and revised his opinion. A desperate and scared idiot. “Why would I be? And the stairs… when they break under our weight, I suppose I could just fly instead of just crashing into the ground and knocking myself unconscious.” He turned to Yuuri whose face was suddenly lit by realization.

 

“Crap,” Yuuri said after looking down at his feet.

 

One step more and once on the top of the stairs, Wolfram stopped and waited until Yuuri was next to him.

 

“Really, why would I be angry with you, Yuuri?” Wolfram repeated, smiling, lowering his sack to the floor. “You left the Castle to join a squad on a dangerous mission where men had died. I had no idea you were here, and if something happened, my and my men's priority would have been my safety instead of yours. What if we were attacked and you were killed?” Wolfram asked his husband, still with that soft smile on his lips.

 

“Eee…” Yuuri scratched his head sheepishly. He had not really thought about this, and he could see that Wolfram knew that. He stepped back at the intensity and fury which the green emeralds flashed at him. Yuuri quickly caught his balance as he remembered that there were only stairs behind him, instead of firm ground.

 

“So... now, instead of concentrating on my mission, I'll have to worry about your precious ass,” Wolfram said, still smiling, stepping even closer to Yuuri.

 

“Ehhh…”

 

“Don't fucking “ehhhh” me!” Wolfram exploded. “Do you have an ounce of brains, you careless moron?!” Wolfram spat, real rage blazing in his eyes. “I'm a soldier, those men downstairs are soldiers, even our horses are more soldiers than you are! You are no damn soldier, Yuuri! You,” he poked Yuuri on his chest with his index finger, “you, my dear Yuuri, should sit in your Castle, issue your commands and deal with things there, and I'll deal with them here! Is that clear enough for you?!”

 

Yuuri's eyes darkened. “That's enough!” he hissed. “My power…”

 

“Haaah!” Wolfram flew into a greater rage, not letting him finish. He barely kept himself from grabbing Yuuri by his uniform lapels. “Your fucking power, you say? Let me tell you that your great power will be worth nothing if you fall off your horse or down these stairs and break your neck. Your power won't be worth a rap if someone stabs you to death while you're sleeping. Your power isn't worth a thing if we have a traitor here and he poisons you! What the hell were you thinking?!” Wolfram roared.

 

The responses and anger that Yuuri had ready to shout in Wolfram's face earlier, had completely dissipated by now. He was just silently staring at his husband who was panting and shaking with rage. Wolfram was right - he had not thought this through.

 

“You know perfectly what I was thinking,” Yuuri muttered tiredly.

 

Wolfram snorted. “Yeah. I know.” He cursed softly. He finally stepped back to leave some space between Yuuri and the stairs, and forced himself to relax, trying to shake off the anger. “Does Gwendal know that you are here?”

 

“Well, I left a letter so he…”

 

“Good,” Wolfram spat, “then I'm sure he'll arrange a personal hell for you when you return.”

 

Gwendal's frown formed in Yuuri's head, and he sighed. “He will kill me.”

 

“If I don't do that first,” Wolfram snorted. “No, seriously.... I don't remember marrying an idiot. Well, a wimp you were, but not an idiot. Has your brain completely gone cuckoo?”

 

Yuuri sighed again. “Yes, recently it did. All this matter with you and an Entrusted Lady… I can't think clearly anymore!” he suddenly shouted.

 

Wolfram watched his husband then nodded. “I'll admit that I was worried that you were sending me away as a punishment. Or even worse,” he added.

 

“And I'll admit that I was thinking about it. Just to… To punish you. To… Goddamit, Wolfram!” he exploded. “Just to do something really bad to you! And you know that I love you too much to do that!” Yuuri spat angrily. “Wolfram, you have no idea how much I want for everything to be back to normal!”

 

Wolfram lowered his eyes from Yuuri's face, settling his gaze somewhere at Yuuri's feet, as he could not meet his husband's eyes. “I know, Yuuri. I'm sorry.”

 

“I didn't want to cause any trouble,” Yuuri said. “All I wanted…”

 

Wolfram nodded. “I know what you wanted.” Lifting his head, Wolfram offered his husband a wan smile, “Under other circumstances it would have been a nice surprise.”

 

Yuuri shook his head heatedly. He wanted to say something else, but was stopped as Wolfram moved forward and embraced him in a strong hug.

 

“I'm sorry. I really am,” Wolfram said, stroking Yuuri's back with soothing circular motions. “If I knew how to make it better, I would.”

 

Yuuri sighed. Closing his eyes, he could feel his anger seeping away. He let himself relax against his husband's chest. While Wolfram was ruffling through his hair comfortingly, Yuuri slid his arms around the blond's waist.

 

“Wolfram…”

 

While Yuuri was thinking about how to proceed with his words, Wolfram felt the arms around his waist squeeze tighter.

 

“Have you found the woman who…”

 

“No,” Wolfram shook his head before Yuuri could finish. Actually, even if his face had been okay, he would not have had enough time: Yuuri made sure he wouldn't. Wolfram knew that one of the pretexts to send him away was to delay the search for an Entrusted Lady. Even after giving his permission, Yuuri was struggling. And Yuuri knew that both of them knew it.

 

To Yuuri, it might have seemed that for Wolfram, it was an interesting sport, the search for an appropriate woman, but none of that was true. Wolfram couldn't tell Yuuri that he was sick of all the palaver and the fake smiles, of the flirting and contrived dalliance. There was amazing tension and desperation hiding underneath those powdered faces and painted on smiles. Smiles that hid calculations on how to best work their way up the social ladder. The hopes and expectations of the females themselves and the hidden hand of pressure from their Houses that they were carrying, were making him ill. But Wolfram could not share these thoughts and experiences with his husband. How do you complain to your husband that you were sickened by something that he didn't want you involved in to begin with?

 

Knowing that Wolfram never liked and/or knew what to do with uncomfortable situations like these, Yuuri moved first. “It's getting a little weird,” he said, while freeing himself from Wolfram's embrace. “Let's go see how the soldiers have established themselves downstairs. They probably want to have dinner.”

 

Wolfram nodded. Unless their king joined them, they would not have their meal. He cast a quick look around. There was only a tiny clear space above the stairs, the rest of the room filled with debris of the collapsed wall and caved in roof. There still was an old table above which a tiny window with broken glass opened into the night, and through which gusts of wind swept the rain in. Wolfram figured that once the table was removed, there would be enough place for two to sleep.

 

“We could close off the window with one of the rainproof cloaks,” Yuuri said, having the same idea.

 

Wolfram nodded again. He cast another glance at the debris where the sounds of steadily dripping water could be heard and followed Yuuri downstairs. He hoped that the rain would not get worse during the night or they might wake up in the middle of a pool.

 

They turned to go downstairs, this time one person at a time.

 

“Yuuri?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Never ever call me a “delicate flower” again,” Wolfram said. “I bet you got that idiotic nickname from Kyota the Asshole.”

 

Yuuri grinned. He liked it when Wolfram was angry with Kyota. Actually “delicate flower” was no good for a nickname for Wolfram today. Instead Yuuri felt as if he had faced a typhoon. And barely survived.

 

Once downstairs, their senses were assaulted by the smells of food: something tasty was roasting on the spits over the fire. The men had made a fire in the remains of the fireplace. They were peeling pieces from a pile of broken planks for the firewood. There were a few scared critters whisking to and fro in the dark corners of the room.

 

“Your Majesty. Your Highness,” the men stood up and bowed.

 

Yuuri noticed that some of them were smiling. He groaned inwardly. It wasn't every day one could hear a king being scolded by his husband.

 

Yuuri motioned for them to sit down. “So... what's for dinner?” he asked, plopping down at the fire.

 

“We caught a few of those fat bastards, Sir,” one of the soldiers motioned at the back of the room.

 

“Haaahh…” Yuuri drawled, his big eyes setting on the spits where the “fat bastards” were half-done. So it was not chicken, even if he could have sworn that the smell was the same. In truth, there were no wings, and the shape was closer to that of a rat's.

 

Wolfram grinned at Yuuri's reaction. “They're really good,” he said, patting Yuuri on his arm. “I think their taste is like a …rabbit's… probably,” he added, not that sure if he remembered the right animal “Only these are carnivores.”

 

“Yes, I know. We call them “rats”,” Yuuri muttered.

 

“Rats? No, of course not, they are not rats!” Wolfram disagreed. “Do you think they would offer you a rat?”

 

“Why not? If they believe that it's good and tasty…”

 

“Yuuri, it's not a rat. We don't eat rats; they carry various diseases,” Wolfram said in a voice that left no room for protesting. “These are called “trusks”. Some villagers raise them on their farms for meat then sell it in marketplaces.”

 

When the trusks were done, Yuuri waited for his share to cool down, then took a careful nibble. It did taste like chicken, only the meat was tougher and one needed to work it quite a lot with his teeth.

 

“Not bad at all,” Yuuri said, after finishing his trusk. He was licking his fingers now. “Thanks for the meal,” he nodded at the soldiers who were content that their king was content.

 

To follow up, he and Wolfram added a few rashers of ham and dried meat. Finally, content, Yuuri leaned against Wolfram's side, who was still eating.

 

“You're eating quite a lot,” Yuuri noted. He was glad that Wolfram's appetite was back - recently all Wolfram did was take a few nibbles of his meals and leave the rest. Really, fresh air and some exercise worked wonders.

 

“What? -Worried about my weight?” Wolfram laughed, pushing a piece of dried meat into his mouth.

 

“Not really,” Yuuri shrugged, yawning. “But I like you at your current size.”

 

“Then shut your mouth and let me eat, or I'll waste away.”

 

Yuuri chuckled. He turned his head to place a quick peck on the blond's temple then stood up. “I'll go take care of our haunt upstairs.”

 

Chewing, Wolfram nodded. When he finished eating and took care of his business outside and climbed upstairs, the table was already missing. Instead there lay a wide sleeping-bag. The window was covered with a waterproof cloak to keep the rain outside. A small candlestick stood on the floor next to the bedroll.

 

“So you really did plan all this out earlier.” Wolfram said, pointing at the double sleeping-bag.

 

“Well, of course,” Yuuri said. “I wouldn't risk you going to someone else looking for warmth.”

 

Wolfram eyed his husband's back while he was busy taking his boots off. It seemed it was just a simple joke. Wolfram suppressed a sigh. It was going to take time until they stopped questioning each other's sincerity.

 

The blond flopped onto the sleeping-bag and started pulling his boots off.

 

Yuuri scrunched his nose, “Damn, how your feet stink!”

 

Wolfram shrugged. “Well, yours don't smell flowers either.” He pushed his boots aside then started unwrapping the puttees. “Your boots are new, aren't they? Do you have any blisters?”

 

Yuuri shook his head. “Not yet. We've been riding most of the time, but there are a few reddish places.”

 

Yuuri finished undressing and slipped into the sleeping-bag with a loose under shirt and underwear. Wolfram soon followed him.

 

“I don't know if it was a good idea for you to follow me into the countryside,” Wolfram sighed. “It's rainy and it's cold at nights…”

 

Yuuri laughed. “Don't forget that some time ago I voluntary went on a similar “exploit” with Yozak. It was the same, only add lice and bugs.”

 

“Oh, don't worry about it,” Wolfram chuckled. “I'm sure we'll get some of those for company.”

 

“You know,” Yuuri said then, “I've always wondered…you are so used to harsh conditions. Before coming to Shin Makoku… Well, a Prince to me meant someone who would just sit comfortably on pillows and eat grapes.” He chuckled at what he thought about Wolfram when he saw the blond for the first time. “You know, when I saw you for the first time, I thought that you are nothing more just a pompous pretty boy. Your uniform and hair were too dazzling for my unsophisticated taste.”

 

“It's my secret weapon,” Wolfram said seriously, but it was obvious that he could hardly keep himself from laughing. “They all think me nothing more than a pretty doll and then I strike.”

 

“Sure you do,” Yuuri chuckled. But it was quite close to the truth. “I was surprised that you really knew how to use that sword that hung at your side.”

 

Wolfram yawned. “It is mostly that way in other countries and kingdoms. But here, in Shin Makoku and some neighboring kingdoms, it is very important that a boy knew how to wield a sword and be able to fight for his beliefs. As you know, there's Military Academy in von Christs' lands where noble families from Shin Makoku and other kingdoms send their sons to turn them into men. The conditions are harsh. They are taught various military subjects and various disciplines; like strategy, economics, sword-fighting, element control, etiquette. After finishing the academy, they supposedly are capable of running their Houses and leading their troops. Well, most of them really are.”

 

“Did you attend it?” Yuuri asked. “Somehow I've never heard you mention it before.”

 

“That's because I never attended it. My mother was against it.” Wolfram rolled his eyes. “Mothers”, he said the word as if it could have explained everything in the world. “But I believe that with Gwendal and Gunter running me so hard, I had an even tougher life than the boys there. I had the same physical training, plus sword-work with Conrad, history and general knowledge with Suzannah Julia and all the politics, etiquette, and social niceties that being a Prince in the Royal Court could provide.

 

“Gwendal attended the Academy though. He quit it later, after I was born. Later he said that he did not like it there anyway, but who knows? He still has a few friends from there who visit him once in a while. When they get drunk they tell lots of stories. From what I heard, Gwendal was quite wild back then.”

 

“Seriously?” Yuuri wondered. “Wild? How so?”

 

“Well, it seems that he was the bane of the upper-class students. There's a very clear hierarchy. It seems Gwendal once led his “army” into a soap and broom battle in the baths which was successful, but got him grounded for two weeks.”

 

“Amazing,” Yuuri laughed.

 

Wolfram shrugged. “Well, as I said, many, after finishing the academy soon forget the beaten-in-teachings and are just happy to have escaped that hell. They are content to just sit on their asses and get fatter and fatter. As Shin Makoku has constantly been involved in wars, neither Gwendal nor Conrad nor I had such luck, though.”

 

“Hmm… I see,” Yuuri drawled. “So mostly what rich aristocrats remember from the academy teachings are etiquette and mannerisms… Well, I was never into pomposity, luxury and all that stuff,” Yuuri said.

 

“Yuuri,” Wolfram smiled, amazed and amused by his husband's naivety once again, “every morning and evening you bathe in your private baths. You have breakfast in the most luxurious dining-room in Shin Makoku. You walk on carpets and look at tapestries that cost more than an average nobleman can ever hope to have in his life. The horses and carriages you ride… Yuuri, only a person who has it to take for granted can never understand what he has. People will kill and they do, to get what you have, Yuuri.

 

“Those women that I met, Yuuri,” Wolfram continued heatedly, “they are as cunning as hell. They only see me as a ladder to the upper strata of society. It's a nice tradition when there is no money and similar interests involved, but now… All those calculating smiles and flirting touches just so that in the end they are thought worthy of getting into the salons of the top families and then they can boast and gossip to their friends dying of jealousy… They will do anything to work their way up. Some of their families are in bad debt and this is the last chance for them. Some…” Wolfram suddenly fell silent, realizing he was blabbering. But Yuuri did not seem to mind. The prince could not be sure, but it seemed that Yuuri was even somewhat relieved.

 

XXXXX

 

The biting insects were vicious. Yuuri slapped himself on the face sleepily, but it didn't work, because even though the whine moved away, a few seconds later it maliciously came back to his right ear. The noise of the water outside seemed to have lessened, which meant that the rain had stopped. It was still dark behind the cloak on the window. Wolfram was calmly sleeping.

 

Smacking himself on the cheek - this time successfully - Yuuri turned to his other side.

 

The next time he woke up it was because Wolfram smacked him in the face with his hand.

 

“Ow,” Yuuri frowned, feeling his nose. He turned to his husband who was still sleeping. In the half-light, a bug zoomed past the blond's head, and Wolfram waved his hand again. Yuuri sighed. He turned away and tried to cover his head with the sleeping-bag so that only his nose would be visible. No such luck, as the sleeping-bag was too short for it. Maybe I really am spoiled, just like Wolfram said, Yuuri thought. But then, he couldn't imagine being food for insects could be anyone's favorite pastime.

 

Just when Yuuri had finally settled and was near falling asleep, Wolfram moved about, letting out a sound that could only belong to a troubled and anxious soul. Yuuri tried to ignore it, thinking that his husband was just having a leg cramp, but then Wolfram rammed his foot into Yuuri's shin and muttered something in a threatening voice. He was fighting something or someone in his dream. As Yuuri watched it seemed that Wolfram was losing, as his body soon shrank, and instead of threats the sounds were of desperation and denial.

 

Yuuri was all too familiar with these weird nightmares. Wolfram had them at least once every couple of months. And Yuuri was beginning to think he knew all too well what might be their source.

 

“Wolfram,” Yuuri shook the blond who suddenly started to wave his hands, trying to push something away. “Wolfram, it's just a nightmare!”

 

What Yuuri liked was that usually Wolfram could be easily waked up from his dreams. But not always.

 

Wide-eyed, Yuuri blinked at his husband who had just somehow managed to knock him down and appear on top of him. He had no idea how Wolfram did that without getting entangled in the sleeping-bag. Alarmed, Yuuri stayed still and watched his husband who was watching him in return. It didn't seem that Wolfram had confused him with someone else. He hoped Wolfram hadn't, because then it would have been difficult to explain the sudden erection that was pressing against Yuuri.

 

“Any idea where the lube is?” Wolfram asked in a voice Yuuri hardly recognized, but which confirmed his suspicions.

 

Yuuri pushed at the blond's waist to get him off. “What the hell has gotten into you?”

 

Wolfram didn't even budge. Yuuri lowered his arms to his sides. It wouldn't go this way.

 

“Wolfram?”

 

“Mm?”

 

“As much as I would enjoy fucking with you in a ruined house filled with soldiers who are a few meters away, and who, very likely, can hear us perfectly well even now, something about the whole idea disturbs me.”

 

Wolfram seemed to have woken up completely. He stared at his husband for a few long seconds then slid off him.

 

“Wolfram?” Yuuri called his husband who was settling back to sleep.

 

“Mm?”

 

“Your nightmares are weird.”

 

“Hmmm...”

 

And that was it. Yuuri heard his husband's head hitting the roll of clothes that served as a pillow and the blond was out, asleep.

 

XXXXX

 

When Yuuri woke up, he was alone in the sleeping-bag. After putting his clothes and boots on, he went downstairs. The room there was empty except for four men who had stood watch during the night and now were sleeping. After walking outside, it was a bright morning already. Yuuri looked around. A few soldiers were standing at the door of the mill, the others were tending to the horses, replenishing water supplies, repacking the bedrolls and tents.

 

About ten meters away from the mill, in a field, through the morning mist Yuuri discerned a blue uniform and blond hair. To be sure that it was not one of Wolfram's bodyguards, he moved closer. Wolfram was ruffling through the tall grass, gathering something. Were those berries?

 

“What are you doing?” Yuuri asked, looking around.

 

“What does it look like? Gathering berries, of course.”

 

Yuuri chuckled inwardly. Wolfram had a sweet tooth. He loved sweets, chocolate being his favorite. But he also loved fruit and berries. Yuuri squatted down to look at what Wolfram was so interested in. The berries were small, similar to strawberries, only they were blue.

 

“Here, say “aaa”, Wolfram said while holding a few berries between his fingers.

 

The berries tasted quite different than strawberries, but they were tasty nonetheless. “Not bad at all,” Yuuri said, starting to look around for more clusters of berry stalks.

 

Wolfram held out a handful for Yuuri. “Here, these are for your breakfast.”

 

Yuuri cupped his hands and Wolfram poured the berries into them. Yuuri grinned at the blond's back who had concentrated again on looking through the grass. He stood up.

 

“Why did nobody wake me up?” Yuuri wondered softly while throwing a few berries into his mouth. “We are losing time here.”

 

“Nobody dared wake you up.”

 

Yuuri rolled his eyes. “What about you?” he asked, chewing.

 

Wolfram shrugged. “I woke up ten minutes ago; they didn't dare wake me up either. And don't think that my first thought after getting up is also not to let you sleep.”

 

Yuuri squatted down again to place a peck on the blond's nape. “Well, there was no “good-morning-sex”, but I'll make sure you get your nice, hot cup of tea which hopefully will improve your mood.”

 

Wolfram flushed red in embarrassment. Yuuri shoved the rest of the berries into his mouth and, chewing, headed further into the forest. He emerged five minutes later.

 

They had breakfast, and Yuuri insured that Wolfram had two cups of tea, then they headed back to the main road to continue their journey. They traveled the entire day, only stopping to give themselves and the horses short rest and meal breaks. When the sun started setting, they debated whether it was better to stop and establish a camp or continue towards the fort which was still a few hours away. In the end it was decided to move forward.

 

They reached the first village after an hour and a half. Another ten minutes later, after passing the village, they found the fort. Wolfram, Yuuri and the captain, urged their horses forward toward the guards at the gate. The guards seemed ready to ring the alarm, and even when the riders reached the large area in front of the gate, lit with torches, they still stood alarmed, their eyes shooting past the riders into the darkness where a large number of men could be hiding; Even if the newcomers wore the right uniforms, they could have been taken off the bodies of the dead. Only when the guards saw the familiar faces, did they relax and break into tired grins at the sight of the Prince Consort and the attendant captain. They saluted their superiors and gave a signal to the men on the other side of the gate to push the gate open.

 

TBC