Kyou Kara Maou Fan Fiction ❯ Inexorable Flow ❯ Part 14 ( Chapter 14 )

Rachel123: Well, the amount of sex will soon lessen. Enjoy till you can :D You're still with me it seems. I thought you've stopped reading this one.

 

 

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 - 35+. 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 14

 

“Wolfram?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Could you help me with this?”

 

Wolfram turned to Yuuri in whose hands there were a few tattered sheets of yellowish paper. Carefully, Yuuri was putting them onto the table.

 

“So now you bring work into the bedroom…”

 

Yuuri shook his head. “It's not work.”

 

He sat down at the table, and Wolfram pushed another chair over to sit at his side. The blond pulled over the candlestick closer and took a look at the dilapidated papers. From the words that he quickly skimmed through Wolfram presumed that it must be some old legend. It was written in one of Shin Makoku's dialects, the one that was still used in von Christ lands.

 

“You want me to translate it for you? Why? You never paid much attention to legends before, did you?”

 

“I was just interested,” Yuuri explained. “You know, it always made me wonder… Astrobiologists consider that there is a possibility of Goldilocks planets existing, but this… Four planets similar to each other and in some weird way connected to each other... And all of them have life. This exceeds all expectations. This is something too incredible to be true.”

 

“Hmm?” Wolfram hummed, ruffling through his hair. He yawned. “To tell you the truth, I didn't get much of that. Astro…whatever. What are those Goldilocks planets? Is there much gold on them?”

 

Yuuri pushed the papers over so that they were now right in front of Wolfram. “I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I don't think that the title has anything to do with gold. I think they are just named after a character from a fairytale, a fable. Goldilocks planets are planets that have the needed conditions and environment to sustain life.”

 

Wolfram yawned again. “So you mean that others don't?”

 

“No, they don't.”

 

“Hmm… So it's that rare? I always thought there are many worlds and people live on them. Well, I believe most Mazoku think that. I'm not sure about Humans, but… Well, the legends are similar everywhere.”

 

“The legends?”

 

Surprised, Yuuri looked at Wolfram. Then he shrugged. “Well, I suppose it depends on the culture and beliefs. Anyway, can you read the text?”

 

“Yeah, but there are quite a few words that are either missing completely, or I am not able to read them because of the poor condition the papers are in.”

 

“Never mind, just read it.”

 

Wolfram yawned. With the though that the faster they deal with this, the faster they go to bed, he started reading in a monotone tone. “In ancient times the Great All-seeing and All-knowing God Nohas…” Wolfram tapped his fingers on his chin. “I don't remember a god like this. Anyway, so He spat out Mearan. From His saliva ten oceans appeared.” Wolfram blinked. “It's wrong. We have only eight oceans.”

 

“Read on.”

 

“Alright. So He hung the sun and…something to rotate around it. Stars shone above. The Great God then created animals and forests with fields for them. Life…did something.” Wolfram sighed. “An entire sentence is smudged with some marmalade. Did you give the papers to Lakarde?”

 

“No, I didn't. Wolfram, just read it!”

 

“Why the hell are you so impatient? The Great God was happy. Thousands of years…” Wolfram coughed in annoyance. “Thousands of years something…was happening. The Great God created a man who could understand his greatness and worship him. Man was shown the true ways of… Hmm…” Wolfram drawled, scratching at the smudged ink. “Whatever,” he decided. “But Man was weak and useless.”

 

Wolfram took another page. The part of the first sentence was missing again, so he read the end of it. “…were stronger than him. To the men who were worthy the Great God…” Wolfram rubbed his forehead, sighing. “…one of four powers. Man chose and now could live and spread. The unworthy died or were exiled.” He looked at Yuuri, hoping his husband was already asleep, but, to his disappointment, Yuuri was intently staring at his mouth, waiting for the continuation. “So…text is missing…whatever passed and Man became greedy, and fought among themselves for lands, ships, cows and women. Four Great Houses… Ooo, it is getting interesting,” he commented. “Oh, I can't read that. So to end these wars, the Great God created three other worlds and banished the leaders.”

 

Yuuri stared at the old piece of paper after Wolfram had finished reading it. “Here we have four worlds,” he said finally. “Amazing. When was this document written?”

 

“It's only a copy. Very likely a translation of some source,” Wolfram said after having turned the papers over in his hands a few times. “The original legend might have come from some written source some six thousand years ago.”

 

“Can't be.”

 

Wolfram shrugged. “Legends have always been written down and rewritten. Priests are scrupulous with things like that. Although, I wish they had been more scrupulous about things other than mindless worshiping and filling their stomachs.”

 

“Hmm…” Yuuri drawled. “Do you think those “unworthy” and cast away were Humans?”

 

Wolfram stood up and walked over to the cabinet to pour himself a drink. He shrugged. “Very likely, but it's just a legend. We have many others that explain the four elements and worlds. Well, yes... this one is one of those rare ones that at least makes some sense.” With a glass in his hand, he turned to Yuuri. “Once I read that the world had been ruled by mice and Man had been their servant, but then they tricked those mice into complying with their wishes and Man became the one ruling the world.”

 

Yuuri scratched his head, then indicated that he also wanted a glass of wine.

 

“You know what I think?” Wolfram asked him, pouring him a glass. “You should ask the Great Sage. Although… He might create a few fables on his own. Just to amuse himself.”

 

Wolfram brought Yuuri his glass and Yuuri relaxed into the chair. Sipping the wine, they sank into thoughts that had been induced by the text. They both turned around after hearing the door screech.

 

“Father?”

 

“Lakarde? What is it?” Wolfram took a sip from his glass and lowered it to the table. Frowning, he looked at the child. After that time when Lakarde caught them by surprise, he had warned Lakarde to always knock before entering the bedroom. “Why didn't you knock?”

 

Lakarde's eyes widened slightly. “I'm sorry, Father.”

 

“It's alright. What did you want?”

 

“Grandmother said she wanted to see you.”

 

“Did she tell you why?”

 

“No, she didn't.”

 

Sighing, Wolfram took his glass to finish it, then stood up. “Hopefully, I'll be back soon,” he said to Yuuri. He held out his hand for Lakarde's and the two of them walked out of the bedroom.

 

Lakarde's small hand squeezed his father's. His feet were hurriedly arranging themselves on the carpet while he was trying to keep up with the bigger man. A smile spread on his face. He was happy that his grandmother had business with his father and that he got to spend some time with him. In fact, he had been lurking behind the door for a few minutes before opening it. He sometimes did that.

 

His father acted differently around his mother. With Yuuri, his husband, he sometimes got into spats where the two of them would shout at or even push each other around. It had never happened with his mother. His father and mother also sometimes had disagreements, but his father had never raised his voice to her. His mother was a wise woman; his father had said so himself. Wolfram displayed patience and control when dealing with women. He was more forgiving and never rude as he was with some men. Maybe it was like that because women were more beautiful than most men and wore long skirts that hindered walking and fighting?

 

There was another reason why Lakarde was so interested in observing his father. A recent event bewildered and scared him and he was not very sure what to think about his father anymore. It happened a few months ago and originally it should have been a simple journey. They had been traveling to visit his grandfather. It had been his 300th birthday and there was supposed to be a huge event. Almost every nobleman in the Demon Kingdom had been invited. Yuuri and Heseren weren't traveling with Lakarde and Wolfram. Yuuri was busy dealing with Human rebels in the west and Heseren's mother was ill, so the two of them were planning to come later, directly to the celebration party.

 

That night they were staying at a wayside inn. It was a nice and clean place. There were quite a few men staying there, most of whom were also traveling to meet his grandfather. The inn was busy and hustling as a beehive with men sitting at the tables on the ground floor. All of them were at least slightly drunk, the jokes and laughter floating around. It was quite late in the night already and most of their wives and children were already in bed, sleeping. He was the only child who was allowed to sit at his father's side this late, even if he was nearly the youngest of all the other children.

 

There were also a few lords who were traveling to pay their respect to his grandfather and his father was forced by protocol to spend his time among the nobility. Although, after they returned to the room they were renting, he said that he was sick of all that pomposity and that he would have rather preferred not to meet any of them.

 

They had a quick wash which Lakarde knew his mother would not have liked had she been there. But his father had said to him more than once that a man must not be picky, but not be a pig either. He liked his father's position better. It seemed to be more sensible. Lakarde didn't understand why someone would want to rub their skin off in a bath that took forever. Or have elaborate hairdos and makeup that took half the day to put on, and then the other half the day to take off. When he had asked his mother about that, she had said something about him being lucky to have inherited his father's looks and needn't be worried about it. He didn't really understand much of what she had said then. His father was always easier to understand.

 

After the wash, still dressed in their trousers, they laid down in the large single bed. Lakarde was still excited and not sure that he would be able to sleep. But the long evening, paying attention to what the men around him had been saying and doing, exhausted him. So a few minutes later, after listening to the strange sounds of people passing their door and the noise coming from down stairs, he fell asleep.

 

He was not sure what woke him up. Maybe some sound, maybe some instinct; but one second he was soundly sleeping, another staring at the darkness with his eyes wide open. There was a shadow right in front of him. There were more shadows sneaking into the room. He screamed then, loud and panicky.

 

His father woke up instantly. The shadow in front of Lakarde turned into a living torch instantaneously. Something glistened in the man's hand, but whatever it was it fell away with a part of his body as Wolfram cut down with his sword. Another shadow turned into a block of ice right in front of them, then fell to the floor. His father grabbed him then and said to hold onto him tightly.

 

With Lakarde sitting on his left arm, clinging to his neck, and a sword in his hand, his father kicked the door out. There was someone behind that door, but they had no chance to speak or even moan as the door flamed up with a fire that made the tapestry in the corridor roll up instantly at the hellish heat. They moved forward, and when Lakarde looked back over his father's shoulder, he saw the dead bodies of their royal guards lying on both sides of the entrance to the room. They had been killed by the intruders. Right now there was nothing left from of the door - just some black ashes.

 

More armed men appeared in the half-lit corridor, challenging Wolfram, and his father killed all of them ruthlessly, sparing none. Then the doors in the long corridor started opening, guests appearing, the shouts and screams filling the air. His father's retinue appeared, armed men who wore their colors.

 

It was over in five minutes but that was the scariest thing in Lakarde's young life. In those five minutes he realized that his loving and rational father could turn into a swift, efficient killing machine and kill everyone without mercy. At the same time it made him feel even more special as his father had always been kind to him.

 

Deep in thought, Lakarde frowned at the carpet then his face cleared up again and he bounced happily beside his father. His eyes glinted with mirth as he had seen a few dresses on his grandmother's bed and she was obviously going to ask his father's advice on which one to wear for tomorrow's party. To put it mildly, his father was not an expert in fashion.

 

“You know something.”

 

Lakarde blinked then raised his head to look at Wolfram. Wolfram looked back at him. His son always had that expression on his face just before filching candies off the table. He could hardly suppress a smile at the way Lakarde was suddenly squirming after being found out.

 

“Irsdredss,” Lakarde muttered.

 

“What was that?”

 

“It's a dress.”

 

“Oh no,” Wolfram groaned, stopping in his path. He held Lakarde as the boy nearly fell over at the sudden stop. “She wants me to choose her a dress.”

 

Lakarde pouted. Not only he did not manage to spend more time with his father, but he also failed his grandmother. There was no way Wolfram would go see her now.

 

“Let's send Kyota.”

 

Lakarde blinked up at his father. His small head was trying to understand why Kyota's name came up.

 

“No! Leahir would be even better.” Wolfram turned around and started walking back. “Hey, you,” he motioned for the guard that stood at the exit door to come closer. “Tell Leahir Sandel that Lady von Spitzberg wants to see him. There's a very serious and confidential dress matter awaiting him.”

 

The guard gave both von Bielefelds a blank look, then hurried off to execute the command.

 

“Why is it Leahir wears dresses? He's a man, right? Men wear trousers, right?” Lakarde wondered aloud after the guard left.

 

“Ahh…” Wolfram ruffled through his hair while pulling Lakarde with him back to his and Yuuri's chambers. Lakarde's questions always gave him headaches. Heseren was better at dealing with them. “Well, some men like wearing skirts and dresses.”

 

“The other day I wanted to wear a dress and Mother did not let me. Why?”

 

“You wanted to wear a dress?”

 

“Yeah, it was a nice one,” Lakarde said, bouncing merrily, not aware that his father did not seem very happy.

 

Wolfram groaned inwardly. Raising children was unbelievably hard.

 

Events would prove Wolfram's thoughts to be right...over and over again.

 

OoOoOoO_Two years later_OoOoOoO

 

When Wolfram entered the royal chambers, he was suddenly rooted to the floor. Lakarde stared back at him, unsure of what to do, then let go of his privates and lowered his shirt to cover them. Quietly, Wolfram walked to the table and opened the drawer to take the keys that he had come for. His son, meanwhile, stood up from the carpet and pulled his trousers on.

 

Without saying a word, Wolfram left the room.

 

Lakarde stood in the middle of the room and stared at the door. He wasn't sure what happened and what he was supposed to do now. His father had reacted quite strongly, but said nothing. Lakarde didn't know if he had done something he shouldn't have, but his father's wide eyes were still alive in the back of his mind. Whatever it was that Lakarde had done, he wasn't going to do that again.

 

Walking back to his study, Wolfram wondered about the occurrence. Was it normal? The first time he got interested in something like this was only because of Kyota and then he was already almost fourteen. Lakarde was not even five years old. Maybe this was the result of that time when Lakarde saw him and Yuuri having sex? Was he curious about it? Was Lakarde…? He had to talk to someone about this.

 

After talking with Gisela, Wolfram's fears were more or less allayed. It appeared that it was quite common for children Lakarde's age to be curious about their bodies and seek out the repetitive pleasure they discovered. It was also a way for children to dissipate their anxiousness or stress. Very likely Lakarde's curiosity had also been stimulated by seeing him and Yuuri in bed. Wolfram guessed that all of it came into play. He felt that he should talk to his son. The problem was that he had no idea what to say. He wanted neither to encourage nor to discourage his son. After giving some thought to this, he decided to leave it be. He just made sure Lakarde started practicing swordplay and hand-to-hand combat to help keep him occupied. Neither of them ever mentioned the incident again.

 

OoOoOoO_A year later_OoOoOoO

 

Irritated, Wolfram looked at his son. Lakarde was telling him about how he defeated one of Murata's kids. He raised a handful of documents for Lakarde to see. But the hint was still not enough to stop Lakarde's blabbering. Wolfram frowned; Lakarde had never been this chatty. Lowering his head back to the papers, Wolfram tried to concentrate on his work. About fifteen minutes later he noticed that Lakarde was still in his study. At some time the child had gone absolutely quiet, and he had not even noticed. Wolfram looked at the grandfather clock at the wall.

 

“Lakarde,” he gave the child an angry look, “you're ten minutes late for your practice.”

 

Lakarde said nothing. Just sat there, in front of the desk and fidgeted with his fingers. Surprised, Wolfram suddenly realized that Lakarde was trying to stall for time. This was the first time he has seen his son not wanting to go to practice. Lakarde's relationship with his trainer was warm. The boy was fond of and respected him. Despite the training being difficult and quite harsh, Lakarde had never complained, quite the opposite.

 

Wolfram put his pen down and leaned back into the chair. “Is something wrong? Do you feel ill?”

 

The boy shook his head. He slid off the chair slowly and walked to the door. He still seemed reluctant while reaching for the handle then snuck out quickly. He looked shifty, but Wolfram decided to write the situation off. Maybe Lakarde was just tired or feeling lazy.

 

After closing the door to his father's study, Lakarde wandered around through the corridors until he saw Yuuri who gave him a strict look after seeing him roaming about idly. Frowning, Lakarde turned away and dragged himself to the training hall.

 

The trainer asked Lakarde where he had been and Lakarde lied that his father had delayed him with a discussion about his studies. They started with a few circles around the hall to warm up, then he was asked to demonstrate the sword-fighting moves he had learned yesterday. After that, Lakarde practiced them for about half an hour while combining those moves with ones he had learned previously. Later they switched to hand to hand combat.

 

At the end of the lesson the boy started doubting himself and began thinking that he might have imagined the bad things. It was not until he was shown a few new moves with a sword and the trainer took his hand into his to correct his stance. That also included the man pressing against Lakarde's back. At first, it didn't seem as if it were something intentional, and Lakarde told himself that it was only normal when the two of them were moving together. But a few seconds later Lakarde found himself unable to put the actions under the category “normal”. He could instinctively feel that the overly eager rubbing against his back and the suddenly heavy breathing at his ear were something…something that probably shouldn't be happening to him.

 

His face red, Lakarde stopped swinging his arm and stared at the far wall blindly. It was the same as yesterday when the man massaged him. Mortified and lost, he stood for a few moments, then did the same thing he had done yesterday - he ran. But this time he ran not into his room, but back to his father's study. His father was probably the most fearsome person in the world, and his study was the only place where Lakarde felt safe.

 

Lakarde knocked softly and, not waiting for an answer, snuck inside.

 

“What is it, Lakarde?”

 

Not happy with the silence that was his only answer, Wolfram frowned at his son. “Isn't it too soon for your lessons to be finished?” He was stupefied when, after his words, Lakarde's lower lip started trembling. He had never seen his son crying, not after he became old enough to start learning how to wield a sword.

 

Wolfram put his pen aside and stood up. “Come here, Lakarde.” He squatted down when his son approached. The boy stood, his head lowered, hair covering his face. Wolfram could see him biting his lower lip. He lifted the boy's chin to see his petrified face.

 

“Now tell me what happened.”

 

Lakarde's lips twitched but nothing came out.

 

“If I don't know, I can't do anything about it,” Wolfram said. “You will have to tell me or you'll have to deal with it yourself. Can you deal with it yourself?”

 

“A…a…I don't know,” Lakarde muttered.

 

Wolfram was surprised even more when his son suddenly started blushing and tears started threatening to come out again. Then it hit Wolfram like a wet cloth in the face. The smell. Disbelieving, the prince gritted his teeth.

 

“You can go. He is discharged,” he said, straightening up. “Tell my guards to bring him here right now.” Lakarde paled, but Wolfram could see that the boy was also relieved. “How long has this been happening?”

 

“S-since y-yesterday. Pro-probably,” Lakarde stuttered out.

 

“What did he do?” Wolfram wasn't sure if that was a good idea to ask, because Lakarde blushed fiercely and seemed to be on the verge of fainting.

 

“I…I…not sure…touched a lot…” he mumbled with his head down, his face burning. “Was weird…”

 

Wolfram nodded. He bent down then hefted Lakarde, seating him on his desk, his fury flaring up again at the thought at someone touching the tiny five-year-old. “Look at me. Now listen,” he said after Lakarde did, “you did the right thing coming to me.” He brushed over the boy's cheeks to wipe the tears away. “It's alright. He knows that he shouldn't have done that to you and he is the one at fault. I'm glad that you came to me as soon as you noticed that there was something wrong. It will be alright now.”

 

Seeing that Lakarde had calmed down, Wolfram ruffled the boy's golden hair. He sighed. “I want you to speak with your mother. Tell her I want her to speak to you about…bees and flowers. You don't need to tell her everything that happened today. But come to me after she explains things to you. I believe some of her stories might be a little too…flowery; women tend to embroider certain things. Alright?”

 

Lakarde nodded. He was already intrigued. What that was about bees and flowers? His father never cared about bees, much less flowers. Seeing that the conversation was over, he slid off the desk and went to the door.

 

“And, Lakarde, if there's someone else who tries something like that, you are allowed to use force. Any kind of it. People are not allowed to do things like this without one's permission.”

 

Lakarde nodded. After his father had said that he suddenly realized that his father's response would include much more than just discharging the trainer. He would have been worried if not for his father telling that he did the right thing. He had noticed that his father's words always came true, and if his father had said that he needn't worry about it, it meant he needn't.

 

“Another thing... If I am not available for some reason, go to Yuuri or Gwendal and tell them what you wanted to tell me. They will help you.”

 

Lakarde nodded again, but already knew that there was little chance he would go to the king. There seemed to be some kind of agreement between them not to cross each other. But if his father said it, it meant the king would have to help him.

 

While closing the study's door, Lakarde understood that he had learned an important lesson - one could never trust outsiders.

 

Once the door closed, Wolfram's facial expression changed. With darkened eyes he stared at the door, then started unbuttoning his jacket. He shrugged it off and tossed over the desk where it flopped down onto his chair. Opening a desk drawer, he removed a pair of well-worn leather gloves, laying them close to hand. Wolfram leaned on the desk and waited.

 

Soon the door opened and Lakarde's trainer entered. Wolfram gave him a short smile, then lowered his head and started taking off his cufflinks. Still concentrating, he started rolling up his shirt-sleeves. Finally, he put on his leather gloves. He raised his head to look at the man's face again.

 

“I wanted to discuss your payment.”

 

XXXXX

 

“What the hell is this?”

 

Yuuri stared at a body that was being dragged out of his husband's study. The two guards who had been hauling the man by his ankles stopped to look at him. The man's legs were dropped to the floor when they saluted him. A second later the guards grabbed their victim by his ankles and continued dragging him down the corridor. Yuuri thought, that under the bruised and puffed out mask that the man's face had become, he could recognize Lakarde's tutor.

 

“Hey, Wolfram?” Yuuri called, entering the study. He was just in time to see his husband taking a pair of stained leather gloves off. Was that blood? “Sweetheart,” Yuuri raised his eyes from the gloves. He smiled, his smile heralding an oncoming storm. “What did you do to Katuma?”

 

“I've just beaten the shit out of him,” Wolfram admitted calmly. He tossed the gloves onto the floor. “Clean that,” he motioned to the servant who had just entered the study. As the servant had already been informed about the task, he was carrying a bucket and several cloths.

 

Yuuri's eyes narrowed even more. Wolfram sat down, and Yuuri followed his lead, seating himself opposite Wolfram's desk, waiting for an explanation. Both of them waited for the servant to finish cleaning the floor. Finally, with the now reddish murky water in the bucket, the servant left the room. The heavy steps echoed behind the door while he was leaving.

 

“He was molesting Lakarde.”

 

“He what?!”

 

“Touching and the like. Lakarde noticed it yesterday, and I don't think it went farther.”

 

Yuuri stared at him then his body relaxed and he leaned back into the chair. “I'll make sure he gets no job in Shin Makoku. Damn it!” he cursed. “Disgusting!”

 

Wolfram could not agree more. He got up from his chair and went to the cupboard. He retrieved a bottle of wine then looked at his husband. Yuuri shook his head.

 

“Leave it.” He stood up and raised his arm. “C'mon. Let's just go to our chambers and have a drink there. It's been a long day.”

 

Nodding in agreement, Wolfram pushed the bottle back into its place on the shelf. They usually ended their work an hour later, but Yuuri was right - he was disgruntled and would not be able to concentrate on anything else today. Yuuri's arm wrapped around Wolfram's waist, rubbed his back soothingly, then tugged him towards the exit.

 

Once in their chambers, Yuuri opened a bottle of white wine and the two of them drank from their filled glasses silently. After emptying his second glass, Wolfram kicked his boots off and stretched out on the bed. The softness under his back felt soothing.

 

Yuuri watched his husband. Wolfram had long ago gotten rid of his inclination towards alcohol but Yuuri still tried to keep an eye on Wolfram in case the vice came back.

 

“Are you alright?”

 

Wolfram turned his head to look at his husband. He nodded. “Yeah, I'm fine. I think I'll just have a nap. Wake me up for dinner.”

 

“Alright.”

 

Yuuri capped the bottle and, with the glasses, carried them over to put onto the table. Even trying to put them down carefully, the glasses jingled. He heard Wolfram shift in the bed. Deciding to join his husband, Yuuri took his shoes off. He climbed onto the bed.

 

A few minutes later a loud knock echoed from the door. Yuuri got up and walked over, opening the door. Lakarde was behind it.

 

“Is Father here?”

 

“Yes, but he's asleep. You…”

 

“I'm not sleeping yet,” Wolfram's voice wafted out. “Lakarde?”

 

Whisking past Yuuri, Lakarde was already in the bedroom. In a second, he was on the bed, next to Wolfram. He frowned a bit after smelling the alcohol wafting from his father.

 

“Hmm? Did anything happen?” Wolfram asked when the boy stayed silent. He reached out to stroke the small blond head, then ruffled the soft hair and pulled the child close to his chest. “You're having your first summoning in a week, right? You sure are growing fast, aren't you?”

 

Yuuri could see that Lakarde was nearly purring. Catching the glance Lakarde threw him, Yuuri started looking for his shoes.

 

“Don't be late for dinner, you two,” he said before leaving the bedroom.

 

After having the conversation as promised with his mother, Lakarde found himself thinking that he would have liked to hear his father explaining all that. His question had made his mother blush fiercely. But the speech that had come after that made his face burn even more than hers. Now, talking with his father, he understood why he had been told to speak with his mother first. He didn't understand all of the things his father said, but now he was able to put the things that he had seen his grandmother doing with that baron under what his father had called “sex”. It really hadn't been that which his mother had called “making sweet love”. He was alright with “make”, but he wasn't sure about how much “love” there had been and there had been no “sweet” at all. Lakarde understood that he had been taught another lesson - women really liked to sweeten things.

 

XXXXX

 

The ceremony of the first summoning of the elements had been performed millions of times. Now, watching his son climbing up the steps of the temple for the God of War, Wolfram remembered his own. It had not lasted long for him - he and the fire element clicked almost immediately. It was different for everyone, some taking longer, some needing only a minute to find an element akin to one's character and contract it.

 

Lakarde walked up to the top of the stairs, and the High Priestess guided him towards the middle of a small platform. There were four containers, each of them holding different kinds of material. Due to his heritage, Lakarde was expected to be closest to the fire or earth elements, so he was made to kneel in front of the ones with burning oil and filled with soil. Meanwhile the rest of the containers, one filled with water and an empty one were put behind him.

 

Wolfram could tell that Lakarde was nervous. The boy's eyes were scanning for him in the audience, and he gave a reassuring smile when they found him. Lakarde seemed to become calmer. He lowered his head and closed his eyes.

 

As expected, the flame in the pot with oil suddenly flared up in front of Lakarde then started flouncing about in the pot. Then it dissipated, leaving Lakarde panting and leaning on his palms.

 

It seemed that it was over, and Wolfram stood up. He motioned for the priestess to get Lakarde off the platform. But then his attention was caught by something moving near Lakarde. The water element. A tendril of water had risen from the pot and was floating over Lakarde who was staring at it with a surprised expression.

 

Lakarde wasn't the only one surprised. The entire temple went silent. Wolfram met Yuuri's worried eyes, then turned to the priestess who had gasped.

 

“Lakarde!” Heseren shouted, grabbing up her dress and rushing after Wolfram who was already mounting the platform where Lakarde had suddenly collapsed.

 

Wolfram knelt next to the boy. Shaking, Heseren knelt at Lakarde's other side. She was not even sure what to do.

 

“Mmm?” Lakarde hummed after his father patted him on his face. The boy's head rolled over to give him a bleary look.

 

A relieved exhalation was torn out of Wolfram's throat. Carefully, he scooped Lakarde up into his arms and stood up.

 

“Is he alright?” Yuuri asked as he approached them.

 

“It seems he only fainted,” Wolfram said. “A healing spell should do the trick, but first I want to move him out from under everyone's eyes.” He carried his son off the platform and down the stairs, and then turned to an adjacent room where he laid Lakarde onto a sofa.

 

“Bring a glass of cool water and a damp towel,” he ordered a young woman whom he saw in the room.

 

“Yes, Your Highness.”

 

“`M `kay,” Lakarde muttered, trying to get up.

 

Wolfram pressed his palm to the boy's chest. “Shh… Lay still.” He unbuttoned Lakarde's shirt to free the boy's neck and chest.

 

“`S `kay, Mom,” Lakarde reassured Heseren who was standing beside them and wringing her hands. “Don't worry.”

 

“Gisela will come shortly,” Yuuri told Wolfram.

 

Wolfram nodded thankfully. He turned back to the sofa where Lakarde was resting. Heseren was giving him a questioning and scared look. There were rare cases when one was be able to contract multiple elements. In case it did happen, one of them was usually dormant. From what they had seen it was not the case with Lakarde. People wielding two or even more dominant elements rarely were stable, their mental state always in danger of deteriorating.

 

Wolfram cast his eyes over Lakarde's pale face. Lakarde's character had never been easy and open, the boy being enigma even to his father and he knew it would be even more problematic when the boy started going through puberty. But he had never expected Lakarde to be able to contract two seemingly opposite elements. It already showed a great contradiction in the boy's character.

 

“Wolfram.”

 

Wolfram turned to look at Yuuri who placed his hand on the blond's shoulder.

 

“Don't forget that I wield all four elements.”

 

Wolfram nodded, silently. He turned towards the door to see the woman he had sent for water and a towel. He took them from her and approached Lakarde.

 

“Here,” he held out the glass for Yuuri to hold for him while carefully helping Lakarde sit up. He took the glass from his husband. Lakarde emptied the glass greedily, and Wolfram asked the woman to bring more. He dabbed the damp towel over Lakarde's face and temples, then brushed it over the boy's chest.

 

Gisela rushed in about three minutes later. Lakarde had started drowsing by this time and was just lying listlessly on the sofa.

 

After examining the sleepy boy, Gisela wasn't able to tell them much. Physically he seemed to be fine - nothing hurt or was damaged. Lakarde was very tired but that was normal - contracting an element was an exhausting experience, two of them putting a huge strain on still underdeveloped body.

 

In twenty minutes, more than the half of the spectators that had just gathered to rubberneck had left the temple without waiting for the news about Lakarde's health. Others: lords, invited guests, relatives and the ones who had invited themselves, but were interested in the outcome were still in the temple, waiting.

 

Wolfram didn't spare any of them so much as a glance when he carried his sleeping son through the buzzing temple and out the wide doors. He held out Lakarde to Heseren who had already climbed into the carriage. She took the boy from him, then he climbed in. Gisela followed, and the carriage pulled away from the temple and turned in the direction of Blood Pledge Castle.

 

Wolfram felt a little guilty for leaving Yuuri behind to deal with the mess, but he wanted to be sure that Lakarde was alright.

 

TBC