Kyou Kara Maou Fan Fiction ❯ Inexorable Flow ❯ Part 21 ( Chapter 21 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

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 - 43. Wolfram…let's say he is about the same age as Yuuri just a little older. Lakarde - 10.
Inexorable Flow
 
by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Melisenda
 
Part 21
 
Wolfram and Yuuri were standing in the yard of Faraya's former palace. From the outside the palace hadn't changed at all. The garden was smaller, though. There probably wasn't enough money and servants to keep it as well looked after as it used to be. Twenty years ago, Yuuri had chosen a representative, a regent, to rule Bianlu in his name. Yuuri had also introduced many changes, one of them being to lessen the burden of taxes by twenty percent.
 
The regent was also influential in the territories surrounding Bianlu. Since then (as time in Ekara in regard to Shin Makoku moved faster) four of them had been changed.
 
It was the middle of the summer and it was hot as usual in the city of Beshan. In a matter of seconds Wolfram felt his shirt start to cling to his back. It was too big a shock for his body to switch over from the chilly autumn air with snow to the boiling heat and dry air here.
 
Wolfram's eyes set on the palace. “Where are we going to release it?” he asked, lifting the small container with the soul. They hadn't discussed this beforehand.
 
“Why not in the desert?” Yuuri suggested. “I think it's better than releasing it in the city. There would be more options that way.”
 
“Isn't it better if the soul stays in the territory you control?”
 
Yuuri shrugged. “Who knows? I don't think it would make a big difference. It might turn out the same whether he or she hated or liked me in Bianlu or in some other country.”
 
“Yes, probably you're right,” Wolfram nodded.
 
As Yuuri was visiting Beshan quite frequently, they went inside the palace unchallenged by the guards. There were a lot of changes inside. For one, the old carpets and wallpapers had been changed for new and more modest ones. There were still the same statues, though. Wolfram thought that the regent must like greenery as there were a lot of potted plants everywhere.
 
“It's like a jungle,” Yuuri muttered, heading for the stairs at whose base the regent and his guards stood. “I ordered them to lessen the garden, so now they start growing it inside the palace.”
 
“And those are…?” Wolfram wondered at the sight of three half-naked men behind an important looking man whom he deemed was the regent.
 
“Yes,” Yuuri nodded, “exactly what you are thinking. He restored the harem. At first I decided against it, then decided to leave it. It's a cultural occurrence after all.”
 
“Your Majesty,” the regent and his suite bowed. “Prince Consort.”
 
“Regent,” Wolfram nodded, acknowledging the greeting. He was aware of how the representative's eyes slid over him. He also felt the concubines' eyes seizing him up and evaluating him. Were they…? For a few seconds the prince felt as if he had gone back twenty years. Wolfram raised his head to flash the concubines a harsh look. Heads were lowered quickly, eyes concentrating on the floor. Feeling a shiver pass through his body, he followed Yuuri and the regent who had started climbing the stairs.
 
While Yuuri was discussing the urgent issues, Wolfram was staring through the window at the garden. During the first part of their conversation, his ears were registering the most of what was said then his mind started to wander.
 
“Wolfram?”
 
Wolfram started. “Huh?”
 
“We are done,” Yuuri said.
 
“Oh.”
 
Only now did Wolfram notice that both the regent and Yuuri had stood up. The other man was still standing at the desk, waiting for his king to leave the room first.
 
“Are you feeling alright?” Yuuri asked. He was worried by the way Wolfram had been distant during the entire conversation.
 
“Yeah,” Wolfram nodded. He stood up. He turned to the door and felt Yuuri's hand press to the small of his back, reassuringly. “I'm just…” Wolfram muttered, then shook off the memories, pulling himself together. “I'm fine.”
 
“Do you want to rest? We could go to the desert later,” Yuuri suggested. “There's no rush.”
 
“No, I want to finish this as soon as possible,” Wolfram said. “There is no need to waste time.”
 
Yuuri nodded. Time on Ekara went much faster than on Mearan, but he could understand his husband's anxiety.
 
Yuuri arranged for horses for both of them. The representative suggested taking a few guards with them, but Yuuri decided that a bigger party would stand out, which they didn't need. He and Wolfram just wanted to go out beyond the city walls and release the soul and then they would be back. He thought it would only take about an hour or two.
 
Wolfram and Yuuri left the palace as the evening was drawing near. The streets were still hustling but they weren't paid much attention as it was already darkening. Still, a few people stopped what they were doing and their gazes saw Wolfram's blond head off until it disappeared from their sight.
 
Soon they were crossing one of the main streets where, during the morning and day, people marketed their goods. Now it was nearly empty, only a few lonely figures crossing it.
 
Yuuri turned his head, looking to the side where an old man slipped and, cursing, fell backwards. His walking stick rolled over the cobbles out of his reach.
 
“You okay?” Yuuri asked, urging his horse closer. “Anything broken?”
 
“No, just my pride,” the old man grunted out painfully. He wheezed and started standing up. He was thin and bony, wearing an old tattered tunic.
 
Yuuri slid off his horse to help him. The smell of years and unwashed body filled his nostrils. In a few seconds he had the man on his feet then picked his stick up. When he returned it to the man, he saw Wolfram and the oldster staring at each other. Wolfram's eyebrows were drawn together in confusion as if he were trying to remember something.
 
“What are you looking at?” the blonde muttered at the wizened face before him. He suddenly stiffened. He slid off his horse, taking a step forward. “Lasami? Is that you?”
 
The old man nodded. “That would be me,” he said. “And you haven't changed at all.” He sighed. “Makes me jealous. Look at me,” he motioned at himself, the walking stick wobbling. Then he just gave a dismissing wave of his hand. He took in Wolfram's well-made uniform, elaborate cravat and boots. “You seem well.” Then he pointed the end of the stick at Yuuri, nearly prodding his chest. “That your husband?”
 
Wolfram nodded.
 
Lasami lowered the stick to the ground and leaned on it, studying the double black. “Looks like a fine man. Kind.”
 
Wolfram nodded again. He thought that maybe it was just because he was surprised by the unexpected meeting, but he was getting the feeling Lasami was in a world of his own. There was just something…
 
“His name's Yuuri,” Wolfram said.
 
“Yuuri, eh?” Lasami gave a toothless grin. He smacked Yuuri on his arm. “You take good care of him. Wolfram's a good chap.”
 
Yuuri scratched his head. “I believe I have.” He had no idea who this Lasami was. He was also surprised that Wolfram was letting him act so familiarly around both of them. “For about some thirty years now,” Yuuri added.
 
Lasami just gave Yuuri an uncomprehending look.
 
“What have you been doing all this time?” Wolfram asked.
 
Lasami shrugged his bony shoulders. “Worked at this and that. Then nobody would hire me anymore, but Amae's jewelry kept me warm and fed for quite some time now.”
 
“Have you sold all of it?”
 
Lasami nodded. “I still have some money.” His toothless mouth grinned again. “It shouldn't let me starve till the very end.”
 
Wolfram shifted awkwardly. He had never imagined he would meet Lasami under circumstances like these. “We are going to the desert to release Faraya's soul,” Wolfram said against his better judgment. “Would you like to come with us?”
 
“So the whoreson's dead,” Lasami's lips stretched again. He cackled. “I knew you'd get him in the end.” He looked at the container Wolfram had held up. “Go with you? What for? The soul? The bastard had no soul.” Lasami waved his stick in front of Wolfram. “You are kidding me. Do you want it to be the end of me? My bones can't take riding.”
 
Wolfram scratched his head. He looked at himself, then at Yuuri. Neither of them had taken any money. He started unclasping his sword. “Here, take this. You can sell it.”
 
Lasami eyed the sword. “So that some buggers corner me in some alley and kick the shit out of me for that toy? Nah, thanks, you keep it.”
 
Wolfram's hands stopped. He gave Yuuri a helpless look. Yuuri looked down at himself. Anything he would give would probably be stolen from the old man the very same evening.
 
“Ehh…” the king drawled. “You can come to the palace. I'll instruct them to…give you food? And some clothes perhaps?”
 
“A bath,” Lasami said. “What I would really need is a nice hot bath.”
 
“Alright, then a bath,” Yuuri agreed. “Twice a week?”
 
Lasami offered the king a happy toothless grin again. “Sounds fantastic.” He raised his stick to poke Yuuri on his chest. “A nice lad indeed, this Yuuri. Good for you, Wolfram. Alright, I'll be going now. Krasila said she had some milk left. I have to hurry or she'll feed it to her stupid cats. ”
 
Wolfram watched the old man wobbling down the street. “Oh,” the blond muttered suddenly, remembering. He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Amae is doing fine! Trying to become a healer!” he shouted.
 
Lasami stopped then turned around and waved his stick in the air. “Good for him!” he shouted back. “Tell him not to whore around too much!”
 
Whatever Wolfram wanted to add never came out as he nearly choked. He looked at Lasami's grinning face then lowered his hands from his mouth. He grinned too. “Yeah, I'll tell him,” he said softly to himself. He stood there until Lasami's back disappeared around the corner.
 
“Who was that?” Yuuri asked.
 
Wolfram hopped into the saddle and took the reins back into his hands.
 
“An old friend.”
 
XXXXX
 
“This sudden change in weather is no good for my body,” Wolfram said, shivering. He and Kyota were gentling their horses in the yard. It was snowing, a crust of snow covering the frozen ground.
 
“What bloody change? It's been snowing on and off for an entire week now,” Kyota said, urging his horse forward. Kyota's coat was flapping open. It wasn't that cold.
 
“I've just recently come back from Ekara,” Wolfram explained, catching up to ride side by side with Kyota. He let go off the reins to wrap his coat around himself tighter. “We released Faraya's soul. It's boiling hot there.”
 
“Ah, I see,” Kyota nodded. “How did it go?”
 
Wolfram shrugged. “We just released it a bit farther out from the city, in the desert. You know,” he said, “I met Lasami.”
 
“Who's that?”
 
“The servant who used to take care of me and Amae.”
 
“Oh, you mean the one who I bought nude pictures of you from?”
 
Wolfram grimaced at him. “Isn't it ironical that for things like these you have an exceptionally good memory?”
 
Kyota grinned. “It's my best quality.”
 
“No, your best quality is your di-” Wolfram closed his mouth, not finishing the thought, but it was too late.
 
Kyota's grin widened. “Oh, you can only say that after you've tried it.”
 
Wolfram frowned at the mental image presented. He shook his head. “I suspect, though, that I'd never get to the front of the queue,” he chortled.
 
“Might be,” Kyota nodded mournfully. “The Countess of Archwalz has recently been really… aggressively persistent.”
 
“So why don't you marry her finally?”
 
“Oh, c'mon,” Kyota rolled his eyes. “Me marrying? Her? No way in hell.”
 
“What about Leahir, then?”
 
Kyota laughed in unexpectedness. “Me and Leahir?” He laughed again. “We would probably cheat on each other on our wedding night. Man, that would be quite a sight. But you know,” he grinned. “It might just work. I think it would always keep the marriage fresh.”
 
Wolfram rolled his eyes. He wondered whether Kyota was saying what he really thought. Was Kyota really against marriage that much? Or was it just because he had not found who he wanted to marry yet?
 
“So what about that Lasami?” Kyota asked, returning to the previous topic.
 
Wolfram sighed. “He's old, seems to be living from scraps he gets here and there although he said he still had some money from Amae's jewelry he had sold. I hardly recognized him, and just because he was staring at me so intently. I don't think he has much more left. We talked and it left me with a weird feeling. Like…all of it… As if the recent events with Faraya and everything are far away in the past.” He shook his head. “I'm not sure how to explain it.”
 
“Hmm…” Kyota drawled looking forward at the snow-covered yard. While they had been talking, the snow had started to fall more intently. He remembered the feeling he had when he saw Amae again. “I think I know what you mean,” he nodded. “Somehow…floating? Like weightless? Nothing making much sense anymore?”
 
Wolfram stole a sideways glance at Kyota. “Yes, quite so. Before we left Yuuri arranged for him to have a bath twice a week at the palace.”
 
Kyota grinned. “That's nice.”
 
Wolfram was silent for some time then patted his horse on the neck. “You know, I thought I should tell you that in a week or so Gisela is moving back to von Christ lands.”
 
Kyota gave him a puzzled look. He was familiar with and quite fond of Gisela, but had no idea why Wolfram was mentioning this to him. She could travel to the end of Mearan for all he cared. “And?”
 
“And Amae, as her apprentice, is going with her.”
 
Kyota tensed. “And why should I care what the damn concubine is doing?”
 
Wolfram ignored him. “It's nearly at the opposite end of Shin Makoku from your land. I don't think you will have many opportunities of seeing him.”
 
“Thank the gods.”
 
Wolfram sighed. Then he shrugged. Maybe it had never been meant to be. “Never mind,” he said. “Race you?”
 
Kyota grinned at him. He urged his horse on. “The square in front of the War God's temple!” he shouted his horse darting forward. “The last one there will pay for the wine and whores!”
 
Wolfram urged his horse on. “You always find ways to economize on my account!” Yuuri would wring his neck if he even so much as thought about buying himself a prostitute for a night. Kyota, though, had no problems with that.
 
Kyota turned around to mock him. “It's not my fault your husband's a prick!”
 
“Oh, his prick is fine, thank you very much!” Wolfram spat, his horse speeding past the gate. He blushed thickly as his eyes caught the gate guards staring at him. The horse carried Wolfram down the hill towards the town. Then Wolfram heard them bursting out laughing. “I'm gonna skin you alive, Kyota!” Wolfram yelled.
 
Kyota threw his head back, roaring with laughter. “Well, it was not me who was shouting to the whole town about his husband's-!”
 
“Shut the hell up!” Wolfram cut him off, urging his horse to go faster.
 
The two of them raced downward, horseshoes raising clumps of snow from the road and throwing it backwards. At top speed they galloped into the street, people scurrying out of their way. The horses skidded over the cobbled streets, making a sudden turn into the road leading towards the temple. One more turn, and the temple was clearly seen, the final sprint starting. The horses gnawed at the snaffles, meters disappearing under the hooves.
 
“Yes!” Kyota hollered, slamming his hand onto the foot of the statue of the War God in the middle of the square. “Damn yes!” he panted out, turning his tired horse around. He was met with Wolfram's resigned face. “Saw that?” he punched his fist into the air.
 
Wolfram rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, it was wonderful.” He turned his horse. “Let's go to Combo Gain,” he said, wiping sweat off his forehead.
 
“Wait, wait!” Kyota caught up with him. He thrust a brown hat onto Wolfram's head. “Here, now we'll be able to have some fun.”
 
Wolfram pushed the front of the woolen hat up to be able to see the road again. “You sure came prepared.” He agreed with the hat as once people recognized him, any conversations would halt and people acted reserved around him. He did not mind that, even encouraged it, but there were cases, like this, when one would not want to be recognized.
 
Kyota and Wolfram reached Combo Gain about ten minutes later. They tied their horses and entered the two-story building. After asking the owner to take their horses some water and lead them into the stable, the two of them sat down at a table in one of the corners. As it was only afternoon, the ground floor in the tavern was nearly empty, the tables mostly vacant.
 
A maid came up to them almost immediately. At Kyota's request, Wolfram ordered a few bottles of wine. It was obvious that they would not move from this table soon. He also ordered ham and eggs, boiled carrots and radishes. Kyota said that he also wanted soup, so Wolfram ordered it too.
 
“Yuuri will probably be mad at you for disappearing like this, won't he?” Kyota said after the maid left them. He stood up and started removing his coat.
 
Wolfram started following his example. “Nah. Well, maybe a little,” he conceded. “But it's been a long time since I went somewhere.” He shrugged his coat off. He was glad that today he was wearing the clothes he usually used for riding. They consisted of a brown jacket, a white shirt and dark trousers. Wolfram slung his coat over the bench and sat down again.
 
Kyota was wearing his usual military uniform. But even if people in Shin Makoku knew the county it belonged to, unless they were soldiers, they rarely understood what rank Kyota was.
 
The blue-haired man eyed Wolfram's hat. “It's quite warm in here. Just take it off. It's half-light here anyway - nobody will recognize you.”
 
Wolfram pulled the hat off and tossed it onto the coat. He ruffled through the mess his hair had become.
 
The maid soon brought the bottles and glasses. Wolfram opened a bottle and filled their glasses. Kyota raised his.
 
“To this evening, then!” he cheered.
 
“Sure,” Wolfram clinked his glass to Kyota's.
 
While the two were slowly sipping their wine, eating and talking, the day behind the windows darkened, the tavern filling with more travelers and regulars.
 
Kyota motioned for the same maid that kept wine bottles coming to their table. “Any decent girls here?” he asked.
 
The maid grinned, showing two rows of uneven teeth. “As decent as one can get in town. Which ones do sirs prefer?”
 
“Exclude me,” Wolfram waved. “I'm here just for a good drink and a company.”
 
“Oh,” the maid winked. “I assure you, you'd not regret the company of our girls.”
 
Wolfram raised his hands. “Thanks, but I'll pass.”
 
“Any redheads?” Kyota inquired. “Blue eyes?”
 
The maid took only a second to think. “Oh, yes. A few of them.”
 
Kyota grinned and stood up. “Lead the way.”
 
Wolfram dug in his pockets. “Here,” he tossed a few condoms onto the table. Those were from the last time he had been wearing the jacket and he and Yuuri had been out for a ride. They usually went somewhere farther out, like to the lake. But as the weather had gotten colder they would just return and go to the baths.
 
Kyota shoveled the packets into his hand. “Thanks,” he waved with the hand he was clenching the condoms in. Maneuvering among the tables, he followed the maid to the other side of the tavern and started climbing upstairs.
 
XXXXX
 
It was about one o'clock in the morning. Yuuri was lying in the king-sized bed alone. He knew that he should have been asleep long ago, but against his better judgment he wasn't. In addition to that he was seething. Wolfram was going to experience hell once he was back. Going away with Kyota heck knows where without saying a word, taking no bodyguards, just…
 
Yuuri threw the blankets off him and got out of the bed when he heard the door opening in the other room. With a snap of his fingers he lit a candle.
 
“Well, finally… you're back!” he growled out angrily, throwing the bedroom door open to glare at his wayward husband. “Do you know what time it is?! Where the heck…?”
 
The sight of Wolfram and Kyota arms thrown over each other's shoulders and staggering across the room in the near-darkness stopped Yuuri dead in his tracks.
 
“Her name was Silke and she had a husband Rilke!” Kyota hollered, trying to maneuver Wolfram around the table in their way. He headed in the direction of the light source which happened to be the candle Yuuri was holding.
 
Wolfram was smacked into the table, the edge catching him in the stomach. “Gah,” he gasped then tried to step backwards but Kyota was still trying to push him forwards.
 
“Her chest was flat and her ass was sagging,” Wolfram sang, catching up where Kyota had left off. “But there was no one else that slutty and she had the best of pu-”
 
“Wolfram!” Yuuri snapped.
 
Blinking, Kyota and Wolfram looked at him.
 
“Our husband!” Kyota grinned heartily. He let go of the blond and raised his arms as if trying to embrace Yuuri from the other side of the room. Lurching sideways he bounced into Wolfram, pushing Wolfram forward, ramming him into the table again.
 
Wolfram pushed himself off the table once more and hop-stepped-staggered backwards. His foot caught on Kyota behind him. He stumbled, waved his hands about, and hit Kyota in the face with his elbow, making the other man howl in pain, and then fell backwards. Flailing his arms, trying to regain his balance, he made a grab for Kyota's uniform, dragging the other man down with him. The two of them hit the ground with a simultaneous thump.
 
“Uff…” Wolfram exhaled. He blinked, then stared upwards at the candle that was now hovering above his head.
 
“You alright?” Yuuri asked.
 
“Yeah,” Wolfram giggled blissfully. “Missed you!”
 
The inebriated blond smiled blearily at his husband. It was very rude of Yuuri to be all upside down like that, but Wolfram could handle it. “Kiss… Kiss..,” He reached up, catching hold of Yuuri's pajama top to pull Yuuri's head down while he lifted his head aiming for his husband's lips.
 
“Ugh!” Instinctively the dark haired man jerked back, rubbing his nose with the back of one hand, trying to rub the smell away. “You smell!”
 
“Owww,” the blond whined as his head slammed back onto the floor, losing his grip when Yuuri pulled back.
 
Yuuri glared at him. “Undress and straight into the bed!”
 
“Heehehe,” Wolfram's face grinned. “I'm so drunk I don't think I can get it up.” His eyes skidded from Yuuri's face to the candle and back again. “Her husband never minded,” he sang again, “because he always fa-”
 
“Bed! Now!” Yuuri hissed.
 
Pouting, Wolfram closed his mouth. While Yuuri was squatting down and bending over Kyota, Wolfram scrambled to all fours and started crawling in the direction of the bedroom.
 
Kyota still lay on the floor and had his hand over his face.
 
“Hey, you hurt?” Yuuri asked him.
 
There was no answer and Yuuri patted him on his shoulder. Kyota's hand slid aside to reveal a bloodied nose and a sleeping face.
 
“Oh, for gods' sake!” Yuuri snorted. He put the candle down onto the table then dragged Kyota over the floor and to the sofa. He pulled the blue-haired man's boots off and tried to roll him onto the sofa. The dead weight that was the drunken man would just not cooperate. First trying to pick up Kyota by wrapping his arms around the blue haired man's waist and lifting him, intending to try to dump him on the couch was a disaster. It was like trying to lift a large, heavy bag of sand. Parts of Kyota just sagged everywhere and refused to fall onto the cushions. Trying again by getting down on his knees and flinging one of Kyota's arms over his shoulders and then lifting only got the whole front of Yuuri's pajama top smeared with blood from Kyota's nose and other things from his gaping mouth that Yuuri didn't want to think about.
 
Yuuri cursed the man who still lay on the floor, now wetly snoring. The blue haired menace, as Yuuri was beginning to consider his husband's closest friend, reacted to the negative thoughts sent his way by reaching out and grabbing a handful of Yuuri's pajama leg and using them to wipe his face and mouth, but never woke for a second.
 
“Ewww! You blue-haired son of a -! Let go! Let go!”
 
Yuuri hopped on one foot as he tried to pull his other leg free of the death grip that the sleeping man had on the fabric. Deciding that this was going nowhere, he undid the ties at his waist and let the fabric slip down his legs, stepping out of the pants. If the bloody monster on the floor wanted the pajamas so badly, he could have them.
 
Deciding that he had tried harder than the man deserved, Yuuri pulled a pillow from the couch and rudely stuffed it under Kyota's head, then, draping the decorative sofa cover over Kyota, he left the man sleeping.
 
Yuuri found Wolfram already in the bed, asleep. With his clothes on. Yuuri peeled the blankets off him, discovering that he still even had on his boots. It took him about ten minutes to undress his husband, and in the process he tossed aside his own bloodied top. Finally, deciding that he would deal with this in the morning, he joined Wolfram under the blanket.
 
XXXXX
 
“Hmpf,” Yuuri pushed something off his face. Something slid over his waist, then a body snuggled to his.
 
Yuuri shifted then also leaned into the warmth. Slowly, in the back of his head, a thought started forming. It was strange that Wolfram was not on his usual side of the bed. He opened his eyes slowly. Blue hair was draped all over the pillow in front of him. Yuuri suddenly realized he was lying in the middle of the bed between Wolfram and this blue-haired nuisance with the bloodied nose.
 
“Kyota!”
 
Blue, bleary eyes opened to look at him. Kyota yawned, the stench of yesterday's alcohol crossing Yuuri's face. Kyota's mouth froze while he was staring at Yuuri.
 
“Yuuri?”
 
Yuuri didn't even reply. “What the heck are you doing in my bed?”
 
Kyota was still staring at him, not comprehending how he had gotten there. Why wasn't he at home in his bed with Leahir or…just someone else other than Yuuri?
 
“I am sure he woke up last night and went looking for women,” a voice wafted from the other side of the bed. Wolfram sat up. Groggily, he stared at his friend. “Kyota, get the fuck out of the bed! Or do you want me to break your arms and legs?” He eyed the covers suspiciously. “And where the hell are your hands?”
 
Kyota's eyes widened. “I think they're on Yuuri's ass.”
 
Yuuri started at the sudden movement on his behind. He shoved Kyota out of the bed, the blue-haired male landing on the carpet on his bottom.
 
“Ouch.”
 
“Yuuri,” Wolfram leaned against Yuuri's side who had sat up, “there's a law saying one should get his hands chopped off for touching the King without permission.”
 
“I'm all for it,” Yuuri nodded.
 
Kyota glared at them. ”As if I'd ever get into the same bed with you!” he pointed at Yuuri. “It was an accident! Just bad luck!”
 
“Oh, but if it had been Wolfram lying on this side instead of me…”
 
The atmosphere in the room was cooling rapidly.
 
“Then I'd have had my arms broken. And you freakin' know it,” Kyota glared at Yuuri for even mentioning it. Nursing his backside, he got up from the floor. “I think I'll just go to the baths.”
 
Yuuri and Wolfram watched him leave the bedroom then the blond lifted the covers to take a look at Yuuri. “Well, you still have your underwear on,” he said.
 
“And what would you do if I didn't?”
 
Wolfram thought for a moment. “Would have beaten the shit out of him,” he said then.
 
Yuuri's eyebrows rose.
 
“And fucked you senseless,” Wolfram added.
 
“Oh, I wouldn't mind either of the two.”
 
Wolfram lay down carefully. “None of them happening today, though. My head's killing me.”
 
Yuuri flopped backwards into the bedding, his head nearly hitting the headboard. “I really hate it when you drink,” he muttered. “And will you tell me where the heck you were yesterday? I am even more interested in what you were doing.”
 
Wolfram groaned.
 
XXXXX
 
“Wolfram?” Kyota drawled when they were walking out of the dining-room. They just had a late breakfast, Wolfram hardly managing to swallow anything, concentrating more on juice and water. But Kyota, who was feeling no long lasting effects of a hangover, had had a pretty decent meal consisting of pancakes with jam, fried eggs and a few sandwiches.
 
Wolfram gave him a questioning look. “Mm?” Already from the way Kyota seemed to fidget, he knew it was something serious.
 
“Amae told me not to mention this to you, but it worries me,” Kyota said. “It happened nearly a week ago, though.” Kyota had wondered whether it was the right time to talk to Wolfram about his son. It seemed that Wolfram had dealt with the crisis in his and Yuuri relationship, but another problem so soon…
 
“And?”
 
“I think this should be discussed with Lakarde and Amae,” Kyota said.
 
“Is it anything Lakarde did?”
 
Kyota nodded. Then he found himself wondering. “Why don't you think the opposite?”
 
Wolfram's brow rose. “Kyota, Amae still isn't allowed to use his water element and his hand-to-hand combat skills…well…they're nonexistent. And keeping in mind that Amae can't keep his mouth shut… He pissed Lakarde off, didn't he?”
 
“I wouldn't know about that,” Kyota shrugged. “But no matter what Amae said or did, Lakarde overreacted a great deal.”
 
Wolfram sighed. “You sure?”
 
“Yes, I'm pretty damn sure, Wolfram,” Kyota snorted. “I wouldn't be talking to you right now otherwise!”
 
Wolfram gave Kyota a worried look. “That serious?”
 
“What I saw was pretty serious indeed,” Kyota confirmed. Well, finally Wolfram looked worried. “Wolfram, this actually goes beyond what you can justify by puberty.”
 
Wolfram ruffled through his hair. Then he turned to the guard that stood at the door leading to the royal chambers. “Tell Amae Sederu and Lakarde von Bielefeld to be in my study in ten minutes.”
 
The guard saluted and hurried off to fulfill the order. Wolfram and Kyota entered the chambers.
 
XXXXX
 
“Lakarde?” Amae wondered after entering Wolfram's study. He looked around. “Where's your father?” he asked. But a second later he realized what it was about. “Is this because of the other day?” he asked.
 
Lakarde said nothing, but seemed nervous. “I think so,” he said finally.
 
“It was not me who complained to him, though,” Amae said, walking over and taking one of the chairs at the wall.
 
“You should have, then,” Lakarde muttered.
 
“Heeh?” Amae drawled, interested. He gave Lakarde an intent look then chuckled, shrugging. The youngster clearly did not like him but at least he felt guilty.
 
“This can be easily solved with an apology,” Amae said. “I am also at fault for letting my tongue fly. Yelling at someone twice as young as me is…an embarrassing thing to do.”
 
Lakarde gave Amae a reconciling gaze. “Well, you were right anyway,” he muttered. “And it wasn't directed at you at all.”
 
“That much I've figured out already,” Amae nodded.
 
The two of them turned around in unison at the sound of the opening door. Wolfram and Kyota took in the situation. Kyota was worried at first then heaved a relieved sigh; it did not seem that the two were at each other's throats. A few seconds later, while walking to take a chair, he realized that there was no tension between Amae and Lakarde either. Lakarde seemed as if he were on a knife-edge, though.
 
“Alright, Lakarde,” Wolfram started, after taking his usual chair at the desk, “I want to hear what happened.”
 
“Nothi…”
 
“Not you!” Wolfram snapped at Amae. He felt his headache return with full force. His mood dropped to the soles of his boots. He stared at his pale son. “What the hell did you do, Lakarde?” he repeated sternly.
 
“First I insulted Amae,” Lakarde said softly. “Then I tripped him and pushed to the ground. Then I tried to tear his underwear off.”
 
Wolfram stared at his son with his mouth open. From his son he turned to Amae who nodded. Kyota was just staring at Wolfram insistently.
 
“Now, let me say a few words,” Amae said. “First,” he started, not waiting for Wolfram's approval, “he was very agitated when I happened to pass by. Secondly, I also said a few unworthy things to Lakarde provoking him. Third, I'm not sure what he was trying to do there but it would have been impossible to rape me in his state.”
 
Wolfram stared at Amae, not really understanding.
 
“He wasn't aroused,” Amae explained. “Limp as a…”
 
“Enough! I get it, I get it,” Wolfram growled out. He rubbed his aching forehead. Never had he imagined he would face a situation like this. He lowered his hands and his eyes snapped to Lakarde. “You, what do you have to say for yourself?”
 
Lakarde chewed on his lower lip. “It was all as Amae said. I…”
 
“Lakarde…” Wolfram hissed, standing up, anger flooding him. “This… I've never expected anything like this. You…” he got out from behind the desk. “What the hell is in your head?” he demanded through gritted teeth. “What are you thinking?!” Wolfram walked over to where Lakarde sat, his eyes pining Lakarde to his seat. “Who the hell do you think you are?! What the-?!”
 
Lakarde suddenly found himself staring at his father's palm right in front of his face. His mind had gone blank for a moment. His father hadn't hit him, but the intention was enough to shock him.
 
“Wolfram…” Kyota warned, seeing that the situation was slipping out of control. Lakarde was as pale as a sheet, his body trembling uncontrollably.
 
“But I didn't do it!” Lakarde screamed suddenly. “I didn't do it!” he repeated, jumping out of his chair, making Wolfram step back. “I don't know what…” he choked on his words with agitation. “I don't know what it was!” he continued shouting hysterically. “I don't know why! I'm sorry! I don't know why!”
 
Wolfram looked at his son, now taken aback, unsure what to do. “Alright, Lakarde. It's alright. Calm down.”
 
“It's not alright!” Lakarde screamed back at him. “Why did you…? I just wanted to help! And you… And Amae… I hate Yuuri!” he screamed with all his might. “Your husband is an idiot!”
 
Amae stood up. He quickly walked over to the door and opened it, then stepped into the corridor where he found a guard. He told him to call Gisela and ask her to bring some sedatives. When he came back, Lakarde had stopped shouting, now he was crying uncontrollably, his hands with a clawing hold on Wolfram, who had his son wrapped in his arm, holding him tight against his body.
 
When Gisela came, Lakarde's cries had already lessened, he began calming down. But Lakarde didn't protest and drank a glass of water in which Gisela had mixed some sedatives.
 
The soporifics started working almost instantly, the boy growing weary, his uncontrollable shaking lessening, almost disappearing completely. A few minutes later Lakarde's eyes closed and he slumped against Wolfram's chest.
 
Gently, Wolfram lifted his son. Kyota opened the door and Wolfram carried him to his room, the blue-haired male following him. In the study, Amae looked at Gisela then shrugged.
 
“I suppose we can go back to packing again.”
 
In Lakarde's room, Wolfram laid him onto his bed. He tucked Lakarde in then stood up.
 
“Want a drink?”
 
Kyota nodded. The two of them left the room and returned to the prince's study. Kyota got comfortable in the chair opposite the desk. He watched the blond go to the cupboard to get a bottle. This time it was liquor stronger than wine. He reached his hand for the filled glass that Wolfram extended to him a few moments later. Wolfram sat down at the desk opposite Kyota, and the two of them and drank silently.
 
“Wolfram?” Kyota drawled, unsure a little later. He didn't know if he had any right to interfere. “Well,” he sipped from his glass, giving himself some time to think while the blond was watching him intently. The liquor burned his throat pleasantly.
 
“I think you should give more attention to your son,” Kyota said finally. He stroked the end of his ponytail that hung over his shoulder, thinking how to proceed. “Lakarde is very smart and serious but at the same time he's very sensitive and… He…” Kyota faltered at Wolfram's skeptical face then just decided to go with it. “He's already used to competing with Yuuri for your attention, but Amae showing up is something very undesirable to him. He would have had the same reaction to anyone who would get more attention from you. Until you establish a normal bond with your boy, it won't end - Lakarde will fight everyone.”
 
Wolfram poured himself another one and pushed the bottle over the desk towards Kyota. He turned his head to the window. It was snowing heavily. He took a gulp from his glass. There was a lot of truth in Kyota's words. Nonetheless, the incident… It had not been directed at Amae, Lakarde's anger. The real source of anger was Yuuri. To be more exact, Yuuri's decision to flog him. But Yuuri was untouchable, so Lakarde settled for Amae. Lakarde probably had nothing against Amae, at least not more than against anyone else. Wolfram wondered if he should tell Kyota this, then decided against it.
 
“He doesn't talk much - I can never know what's on his mind,” Wolfram muttered, sipping from his glass. The alcohol had started working relaxingly on him, his headache dissolving bit by bit. “But it seems to me that he is already too old for this stuff: he's ten already, Kyota.”
 
Kyota sighed. He shook his head. “Yeah, he might be too old, but it doesn't change the fact that this is… He is jealous. Jealous as hell. And, keeping in mind his character, he might feel not as much hurt as outraged now. If you don't step in, Amae will find himself in a living hell.” Kyota remembered the fierceness in Lakarde's eyes when he faced the child. “He is perfectly capable of that.”
 
Wolfram nodded silently, agreeing. “Yeah. His moods are unstable and it seems to me that recently he has been acting a little off.” He sighed at the way Kyota's eyebrows wriggled. “Even more off than usual. I think it would probably be much better if he were among his peers. Some time ago I started thinking about the Military Academy.”
 
Kyota looked at him over the top of his glass. “That's dangerous. He might think that you are punishing him or casting him off.”
 
Wolfram shook his head. “He's not stupid, Kyota. He's just irritated. I'll talk to him and he'll accept it.”
 
Kyota took a sip from his glass. “Wolfram, he needs a different kind of approach. If you send him away now, he'll take it as favoritism and see it as a personal insult.” He swirled the liquid in his glass then sighed. “But being among his peers would really help him; he is too isolated. They might also find a way to release that pent up frustration of his…”
 
“Hn,” Wolfram smiled, amused. “It really might be a way out if he found some other object to concentrate on.”
 
XXXXX
 
Apprehensive, Lakarde was ransacking through his wardrobe, drawers and shelves in his room. `Pack your things.' This was all that Wolfram had said during breakfast. With his heart beating madly, Lakarde had stuffed his rucksack with things he thought were the most important. Like a pair of clean underwear and a filled container of salt. Clean underwear was the most important item in any man's life, and salt…the salt was just in case his father decided to throw him out in a middle of a forest to teach him a lesson. His rucksack also included a knife, a few candles, a bottle of shampoo, a rope, a box of matches, some warm clothes. Now he was considering the idea of going to the kitchen and asking for some food and cooking utensils. After some more thought, he did exactly that.
 
Lakarde heaved the weighty rucksack onto his back. After nearly falling over, he straightened and left his room. The stairs was another difficult task that he managed. Finally, he stood at the bottom of the stairs. He took the rucksack off and stood next to it, waiting. His father appeared ten minutes later.
 
“What the hell have you got in there?” Wolfram asked, pointing at the rucksack next to Lakarde's feet. “An entire horse?”
 
He came closer.
 
“A knife, two candles, a loaf of bread, a pot, a pan, a fork, a-”
 
Wolfram raised his hand to stop Lakarde's earnest report. “Thank you, that's enough. I think you got me wrong. We aren't going on a picnic. We are just going to Earth, to the house we have there. Me, you and Yuuri. For a week or so. I think we just need to cool off after the recent events. And to try to work it all out.”
 
“Oh.” Unaware, Lakarde tapped his rucksack with his boot.
 
“I see you're quite happy about this,” Wolfram remarked, watching Lakarde smiling unconsciously.
 
Lakarde's smile vanished. It was not that he was happy about this, he was happy that it was not what he had feared. He was so happy that he was faint with relief. He was sure he would manage a week with Yuuri.
 
“Father?”
 
“Yes?”
 
Lakarde gave it some thought. He wanted to ask: What about mom? But then he knew that it never worked like this. “Nothing. I'll go to unpack some stuff.”
 
Wolfram nodded.
 
TBC
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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