Kyou Kara Maou Fan Fiction ❯ The Bedding of Wolfram ❯ Vigil ( Chapter 2 )

Kyou kara Maou : The Bedding of Wolfram

 

Summary: It takes a tragedy to crystallize Yuuri's feelings for Wolfram, but it may be too little too late. Can his family and Yuuri save a broken Wolfram?

 

Disclaimer: standard - Kyou kara Maou is not mine.

 

Warnings: not a very cheerful story, of course. Rated M for explicit gore and sexual details, but the aim is not particularly pornographic, just mature. I don't think there are any spoilers. Details that seem like spoilers are probably ones I made up.

 

Please review.

 

Update: just cleaning up.

 

Chapter 2 : Vigil

 

Yuuri woke with that sense of surety that comes of working something out in one's sleep. Obviously, Gwendal didn't leave me in charge of the castle defense, so someone else must be. I will find that person, and demand a situation report. Then I'll demand an escort to join the rescue mission. He leapt out of bed and dressed quickly.

 

His resolve got sidetracked briefly when Greta entered. “Yuuri? Conrad's not here. Will you run with me today?” Wolfram seemed to whisper in his ear, And with no one but the garrison commander to rule the kingdom, you abandoned our daughter to the cook, because a wimp like you could do better than my brothers. Words to thank you fail me... Belatedly, he realised that at this hour, he'd probably be dragging that unknown garrison commander from bed or bath or breakfast, anyway. Very well - parenting and breakfast first, then.

 

In the end, he “ran” with Greta - played tag - for half an hour, until he was gasping for air. Not winded in the slightest, she companionably practiced somersaults and headstands and cartwheels while he stretched, then played catch with him for a while. Neither spoke of Wolfram. Which probably means neither of us is managing to go a minute without thinking of him, but we're trying to be brave for each other, Yuuri thought. Sanguria served them a light breakfast in the courtyard garden, after which Greta gave him a hug and kiss and ran off to do her lessons.

 

“Ah, Sanguria,” Yuuri asked when she came to clear the debris, “do you know who Gwendal left in charge? I mean, besides me.”

 

“Von Trondheim-kyo, of course,” replied Sanguria. “He's in Gwendal's office,” she elaborated, seeing Yuuri at a loss.

 

Yuuri thanked her and set off with resolve to Gwendal's office. Von Trondheim turned out to be someone different than he'd expected - he'd thought a much older man in green uniform was he - but no matter. He approached with confidence, holding out his hand for a firm handshake with the brown-uniformed man at Gwendal's desk.

 

“You are von Trondheim-kyo? I don't believe we've met to speak. Please call me Yuuri,” he began affably.

 

Von Trondheim rose - and rose - and shook his hand. The man looked to be nearly seven feet tall, and broader than Adelbert, hair cut much the same, but in deep blue with deeper purple eyes - possibly of an age with Adelbert as well. “Maou-heika,” he acknowledged.

 

“And what's the situation this morning with Wolfram's rescue?” Yuuri inquired briskly. He hoped this approach would circumvent his ignorance coming up too quickly in the conversation.

 

“No significant change,” von Trondheim dashed his hopes.

 

Yuuri tried pursing his lips and saying, “Hmm.”

 

“Will that be all?” von Trondheim inquired, gesturing vaguely at the piles of paperwork, grown alarmingly since yesterday. Well, of course they would, with both Gwendal and Günter gone.

 

Yuuri tried another tack. “Ah, are we understrength here? Sanguria told me Conrad left with four troops for the rescue operation.”

 

“Sanguria…” von Trondheim echoed in wonder, staring bemusedly at Yuuri a moment before stooping to rummage through papers.

 

Yuuri winced inwardly - ah, perhaps getting his intelligence from the kitchen staff…didn't show much intelligence. But no matter. He was the Maou, and this man owed him a complete report.

 

As it happened, von Trondheim seemed to concur, and began rattling off a synopsis of the paper he'd located. “Von Bielenfeld's camp outside our town of Mizrat Prospect, company of 19, overrun at approximately 3 a.m. yesterday, 12 dead, 4 injured, 3 taken captive - also injured, everyone injured, of course - Mizrati human attackers with houjutsu weapons, approximately 45. Hm,” von Trondheim paused, “seems the two houjutsu-immune troopers von Bielenfeld asked for, died in the first wave. A shame. Good idea, that. Well, they were surprised and badly outnumbered.”

 

Yuuri was so used to his inner circle teasing Wolfram, that he was a little taken aback to hear the respect in von Trondheim's voice. To this man, Wolfram was not a spoiled baby brother, but a fellow aristocrat and respected junior officer - a good one.

 

Von Trondheim resumed his timeline. “Horses also taken. One injured trooper sent Kohi to von Walde-kaka from Mizrat Prospect at 5:05…” von Trondheim winced. “Kohi arrived 7:30. Said trooper Axel acquired horse in Mizrat Prospect, arrived Blood Pledge Castle 8:10. Joined rescue party, dispatched, von Krist commanding, 8:35. Under von Krist, Lutenberg Legion, von Spitzweg Company, von Bielenfeld Regulars, von Krist Cavalry, half of von Walde Corps. So to answer your question, strictly speaking, we're not understrength at all here at Blood Pledge Castle - only private troops were sent.”

 

“Why?” asked Yuuri, eyes narrowed.

 

Von Trondheim continued quickly, not meeting Yuuri's eye. “Kohi borne report from von Krist, received 1:25, attacker's trail and identity confirmed, proceeding into Mizrat in pursuit, command at Blood Pledge Castle transferred, remainder von Walde Corp dispatched, von Walde commanding, 1:45. Also privately, Lady Cecilie von Spitzweg's yacht embarked, 1:55, to harbor at Mizrat Prospect. No further reports.”

 

Yuuri spoke softly. “So, you're saying that Gwendal invaded a neighboring country, without so much as telling me.”

 

“Mm, von Krist, actually, and more like a large raid,” dissembled von Trondheim, resuming his seat.

 

Yuuri wished the man would meet his eye. He found he liked von Trondheim, trusted him, all the more because of how he spoke of Wolfram. He liked the way the man simply and calmly got the details right. “Were any diplomatic approaches attempted?”

 

“I imagine that's what delayed von Walde himself. Once the identity of the raiders was confirmed…he chose not to seek Mizrati assistance.”

 

Yuuri's voice became very soft indeed, as he quietly leaned his fists on the desk. “What do you know about these attackers? General von Trondheim.” The man hesitated, staring past Yuuri's elbow much as Gwendal had. “Why three men? What do they want?”

 

Von Trondheim shifted in his seat uncomfortably, “I've told you all I'm at liberty to say at the moment. Time…is of the essence.”

 

“I'm riding for Mizrat,” he attempted.

 

“I can't allow that,” said von Trondheim mildly.

 

“I'm the Maou. I want a troop escort. I going to help rescue Wolfram.”

 

“There is a chain of command, Maou-heika. I answer to Lord Walde. And, in truth… there's nothing you could do. The forces under von Krist are more than equal to the task. The limiting factor is simply how quickly they can find the group. And you are needed here, as am I, less heroic as that may seem at the moment.” He's trying to wind me down, thought Yuuri. I shouldn't be letting him… “I'm…overwhelmed by the amount of paperwork that lands on this desk.”

 

“How long,” Yuuri breathed. “How long until we hear from them?”

 

“Actually, I don't expect to hear from them at all. Lady Cecilie can sail here from Mizrat about as fast as a Kohi can fly. I'm afraid we just have to wait for their return. And while we're waiting… Ah, I'm afraid unlike von Walde and von Krist, I'm only a soldier, not a royal aide. Is there…someone else who should be handling…all this?”

 

“Ah…that would be me,” admitted Yuuri. And none of it's been pre-sifted for my signature - I'll have to read it. He thought of Greta doing her lessons. Günter faithfully running the kingdom and finding time to bake cookies for Greta while he was away. Wolfram… being an officer reliable enough to earn this man's respect. “Is this pile for me?” he asked softly.

 

“Yes, if you would. I'd be very grateful, Maou-heika.”

 

Yuuri turned back at the door on his way out. “Ah, one last question… The men, with Wolfram. What are their names?”

 

Von Trondheim looked him in the eye with new respect and possibly, a little gratitude. “Robair, and Paol. A wind-user and the troop healer. Good men. Ah, I believe trooper Paol is involved with Sanguria. Perhaps it would be best not to…”

 

Yuuri nodded. “I won't ask Sanguria any more. Thank you for telling me.”

 

-oOo-

 

A day passed, and another. Yuuri spent meals and some playtime at each meal with Greta, but otherwise, stuck to his paperwork, late into the night. He sent a note to Murata and Ulrike at the shrine. Once he'd decided his part was to hold down the fort, he didn't like to take the time to climb the mountain and visit in person. But Murata was away on research, and Ulrike couldn't tell him anything.

 

Guards flanked him everywhere, without making a fuss of it. His usual bodyguards were away, so they were there. He was quite sure that if he tried to escape for Mizrat, they had orders not to stop him. He didn't test them.

 

His mountain of paperwork continued to grow, given how poorly he read Shin Makoku. He dutifully sorted out the missives he truly didn't understand, and signed the ones he could. Strangely, he didn't imagine Wolfram twitting him in his mind anymore. Just pictured a quietly pleased crooked bishounen smile at how hard he was working. And whispers of wry parenting suggestions while he was with Greta. He paused a long time gazing at Shinou's painting in the gallery every time he passed it. He went to bed exhausted so he wouldn't stay awake thinking about the missing bed hog. The bed was cold without him.

 

He missed Wolfram all the time. And Conrad and Günter and Gwendal. But Wolfram most of all. He tried to tell himself that was just because he was worried about Wolfram. That no doubt once he was back and his normal bickering self, Yuuri would do anything do escape him for some nice quiet time playing ball with Conrad. But he didn't really believe it. When you get back, Wolfram… he said to the painting in the gallery, of another man long dead, but he never finished the sentence. He didn't know what he'd do when Wolfram got back. Just that… it wouldn't be the same. He truly appreciated Wolfram now, for good. So he would salute the painting, and buckle down to his work.

 

-oOo-

 

Mid-morning, three days after Gwendal summoned Conrad from their game of catch, Yuuri was in his office when he heard the heavy pounding steps of one man hurrying towards the offices, and sounds of horses in the main courtyard. He jumped to his door to see, of all people, Adelbert von Gratz, heavily laden and barely slowing his steps as his passed von Trondheim's office. “My cousin's room?” he asked directions.

 

“Heika, please show him the way,” von Trondheim requested, heading briskly toward the courtyard, the other way.

 

“Ah…” Yuuri said, dumbfounded. Adelbert's cousin would be…?

 

“Wolfram's room! Where is it?” And he realized in shock that the bundle in his arms must be Wolfram, and Adelbert, huge man that he was, was rushing Wolfram to bed as quickly as possible. Yuuri ran ahead of him to show him the way.

 

Adelbert crossed their vast bedroom in three strides. He lay Wolfram down gently, murmured something to him, then strode back out just as fast, tossing over his shoulder, “Don't leave him before Giesela gets here!” And he was gone.

 

Yuuri stood at Wolfram's side, reaching out for him, but found himself at a loss as for where to touch him. Wolfram was still swaddled in the blankets Adelbert had carried him in, but every bit of him sticking out of that blanket, was hurt. He'd clearly been cleaned up some, but that made it easier to see the damage. The blond hair was matted and dark, spot-cleaned several places well short of its usual blond, for stitching. Both eyes, the mouth, the jaw, the forehead, bruised and swollen black and purple. Striped finger-shaped bruises about the neck. Even his ear, torn where his earring had been ripped from it.

 

There was nothing in this bundle of pain and hurt that remotely resembled the beautiful, ever-polished, immaculately dressed Wolfram von Bielenfeld. Nothing.

 

And suddenly… Yuuri was dead calm. “Welcome home, Wolfram,” he said firmly. He gently bent to unwrap the blankets, only to find a mass of sweat and blood and pus seeping bandages beneath, with mostly bruised flesh between them. Even his wrists and hands were bandaged. With nothing but bruise and wound to choose between, Yuuri laid his hand softly on the side of Wolfram's head. “We missed you.”

 

Wolfram shivered, and moaned. “Water,” he managed to croak out.

 

Yuuri started to get it himself, then remembered what Adelbert said, and sent a guard instead. Wolfram was still shivering, so he wrapped him up again. The guard returned with glass, pitcher, and basin of water, and a pile of towels besides. After Wolfram had a few sips, he turned his head away. Yuuri kept up a soft murmured monologue about what Greta had said, how she'd read him the letters Wolfram had written, how impressed Yuuri was with von Trondheim, how von Trondheim had spoken highly of Wolfram. All the while he ever so gently cleaned Wolfram's hair a bit. He was still dead calm, and felt focused and clear, poised. He wasn't thinking, he was doing. He was tending Wolfram as well as he was able until Giesela got there.

 

Wolfram didn't respond. His breath rasped, he shivered, but otherwise he lay still.

 

With the hair considerably farther along the road back to shining blond, Yuuri stopped dabbing at him, and instead concentrated all he could on the little healing majutsu he knew. Unrecognizable as Wolfram's head was, he felt the most serious damage was in the lower half of his torso, so he concentrated all his efforts there, barely touching Wolfram for fear of hurting him. He knew what he lacked in skill, he made up for in power. Mind clear as water, he poured everything he had into that one thing.

 

After a time, Giesela breezed in with three assistants and kicked him out of the room, with a stern injunction to remain just outside the door because she'd need him in a minute.

 

The guards filled Yuuri in on what little they'd gleaned on station in the hall. Cheri's yacht had returned to Mizrat Prospect for another load of injured. Günter and Yozak would probably return with the last horse-borne troops tomorrow. Gwendal and Conrad were already back, and among the injured, though they didn't hear it was bad. They knew nothing of Paol or Robair. They averted their eyes when asked about the Mizrati kidnappers, knowing of Yuuri's pacifist leanings. Slain to a man, they eventually admitted.

 

Giesela's assistants left and Yuuri was beckoned in. She stopped him at the door as he tried to make a beeline for Wolfram's side. She grabbed his arm and stared him in the eye, in her best drill sergeant manner. “You cannot leave him alone. Don't sleep, don't take your eyes off him, until I or one of the others come to spell you.”

 

“But -“

 

“No one else is available, heika.” She glanced over at Wolfram, freshly washed and bandaged and more comfortably arranged under the bed's blankets. “He's already attempted suicide once today. Don't let him try it again.”

 

-oOo-

 

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