Kyou Kara Maou Fan Fiction ❯ The Bedding of Wolfram ❯ Chichiue ( Chapter 4 )

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 4 : Chichiue

 

“Ah! Lord Bielenfeld, I'm, ah,” stunned? petrified? why the hell did no one mention that Wolfram's father was alive? “honored to meet you. I was just headed back to the room myself. I hope you don't mind a brief stop at my office?” Yuuri gestured down the hall from the gallery.

 

“Quite alright,” Manfred replied dryly. “It's Professor von Bielenfeld, by the way, although you may call me Manfred. `Von Bielenfeld-sensei' is… tedious. I'm chair of healing at the Bielenfeld Majutsu Institute, though I teach fire as well. Dual talents, same as Wolfram.”

 

Obviously, after that gaffe, there's no point pretending Wolfram's spoken of him, Yuuri realised, as he selected a pile of work. “Manfred-sensei, then. Please call me Yuuri. Did you arrive on Cheri's yacht? I hear Adelbert took it to Bielenfeld. We're grateful for his help finding Wolfram. He was running out of time. Adelbert saved his life.”

 

“That's right. We hadn't spoken since Suzanna Julia von Wincott's funeral. How that tragedy could have turned him against the Great One and Mazoku to side with humans,” Manfred seemed to change course in mid-stride, “well, we argued, I'm afraid. But he seems more moderate now. He attributed that largely to your work to build peace with the humans, by the way. In the end, we talked most of the night. With especial attention to his adventures with you and Wolfram, of course.”

 

While perfectly courteous, somehow this wasn't friendly. Manfred limped slowly on his cane, so the walk to Yuuri's room took some time. Yuuri had always known Wolfram for a mama's boy, but he was unnerved by this difficult man wearing Wolfram's face.

 

“And here's our room,” said Yuuri, wincing on the our just after it was said.

 

“Quite alright,” said Manfred. “My son and I keep in touch. Yuuri.” And without knocking, he simply opened the door and walked in. Cheri bolted upright from where she knelt by Wolfram's bedside. Giesela ran a last monitoring hand over Wolfram's body, then strode to Manfred to shake hands with a warm smile.

 

“Good to see you, Giesela,” said Manfred. “Fine technique as always.”

 

“Thank you, Manfred-sensei,” said Giesela. “Glad to see you. Wolfram's case is… out of my league as a battlefield hack.”

 

“Not at all. I visited with trooper Andrei last night. Few would have managed to save either of those eyes. I commend you. Although. We should see you at the Institute more often, hmm? If only because we enjoy your company. Shin Makoku could use more `battlefield hacks' of your caliber. I'll have you teaching next time.”

 

Giesela flushed at the compliment. “Thank you, sensei! If you'll excuse me.” And she curtseyed out the room.

 

“Cecilie,” Manfred greeted her coldly. “My turn.” Conrad looked friendlier over locked swords than Wolfram's parents looked at each other. Steel, meet steel.

 

Cheri bridled. “I should stay.”

 

“Don't start,” said Wolfram, tiredly. “Hahaue, Yuuri, please give us the room.”

 

Yuuri desperately wanted to go kiss Wolfram's brow before leaving. It was agony to be separated for even an hour when he was so concerned about him. But, not only would it likely set off his parents, but maybe also Wolfram himself. “Alright… I'll be back in an hour, Wolfram.”

 

As Cheri also moved to leave, Manfred said, “Yuuri, perhaps you could come back with lunch instead. If you'll send someone about noon, I'll give them the menu for Wolfram.” Nominally phrased as a request, this was an order.

 

Yuuri turned to stare down Manfred, giving the Maou orders, in his own bedroom, no less, but Wolfram said, “It's alright, Yuuri. After lunch we can spend some time alone together. Hahaue, I'll see you tonight.”

 

Yuuri was new to this being in love thing. His heart leapt and pounded at Wolfram's small crumbs. He blushed and nodded and his eyes shone. “I look forward to it. Wolfram.”

 

-oOo-

 

“It's been a long time, Chichiue,” greeted Wolfram as Manfred sat on the edge of his bed.

 

“Mm, too long as usual, pretty vixen. Ach, child, I give you a face like this and you go and do that to it. Ingrate! Hmm, not even a chuckle, eh? Perhaps you're not feeling well, let's take a look.” Manfred ran a monitoring hand, with the sureness of over a century of practice, from Wolfram's head to toe, then arranged blankets to keep him warm, yet expose his abdomen. “So, Yuuri's decorative, no wonder you haven't visited lately. Didn't know you ran that way, though I couldn't find a tactful way of bringing it up in a letter. `Bert told me this stabbed peritoneum was self-inflicted. Giesela really does fine work. We'll have you eating meat and vegetable soup for lunch, I think. Of course, I'll insist the patient work to heal himself, instead of kill himself. Quit being lazy.”

 

Despite this steady monologue, Manfred had already set in healing Wolfram's gut, orange flames emanating from his palm and fingers where they rested skin-to-skin below the navel, flaming tendrils lapping down his crotch and playing across his belly.

 

Wolfram started to sweat, and frowned and turned his face away. “Chichiue, that's…“

 

“Well, if you get a hard-on, don't expect me to help you with it. Clinically, I should be glad to see it. You don't like me healing your gut, quit stabbing yourself.”

 

Nevertheless, he laid off the flames and studied his handiwork for a bit. “Good. For this morning. One more session of that this afternoon should be it for the gut. Next, your face, I think.” He turned Wolfram's face to and fro and looked in at the teeth. “Well, unlike Giesela, I think healing the face is a priority. Mind you, this has nothing to do with your mental state. Pure narcissism on my part.”

 

“Chichiue, stop! It hurts to laugh!”

 

“Ah, so gratifying the way you share my acid wit… Alright, a mirror! Now, who's the fairest one of all? I think I look better. More distinguished, and that extra little bit of height gives me authority and presence, don't you think? You may be cuter, though. Too preciously cute for a man. You get that from Cecilie.”

 

“Please try to get along with Hahaue while you're here?”

 

“We always try. Just be glad we never married. She was happier getting back together with that human, Weller. Come back to Bielenfeld instead. We could borrow Cecilie's yacht tomorrow.”

 

“My life is here.”

 

“Is it? That wasn't a casual suggestion, by the way, Wolfram. Now I'm afraid I'm going to get rough. Sorry, I need to take a break before healing your rump. Let's work on that screwed up head of yours a bit.

 

“So let's see. Your life here. As an officer, you're short a troop. Or do you fancy yourself a royal wife? Not a bad plan. Take after your Uncle Stoeffel, be the power behind the throne, let the pretty half-human unify the nations. Outlive him and take after Mama Maou, and rule the world, hmm? Though… unless I miss my guess… touching your lover after being brutally gang-raped for a couple days… might be a snag?”

 

Tears were running down Wolfram's face, eyes clenched shut. “Ouch?”

 

“You'd lose it if I got sappy, pretty vixen. Left to the sunshine crew, you'd be petted and coddled and poor little Wolfie'd into staying sick forever. But never fear, your Dark Side is here! And I'm going to kick your ass until you pick up the pieces and get on with your life. Bwah. Ha, ha.”

 

Wolfram was stuck groaning, laughing, and crying at the same time.

 

-oOo-

 

To Yuuri's vast relief, Manfred decamped the moment he opened the door, so he and Wolfram could lunch alone together. He nearly dropped the soup tray when he saw the change in Wolfram. From a purpled battered bundle of rags just the day before… The face, the hair, even the ear and strangle-bruised neck - all restored to Wolfram's usual shining bishounen perfection. He even wore an earring.

 

Wolfram gave him a crooked grin, but didn't pretend not to enjoy the gaze - he loved preening for the audience, and always had. But he said, “Quit gawking in the doorway, Yuuri. I'm hungry.”

 

Suddenly shy, Yuuri focused on the mechanics of helping Wolfram eat soup in bed, and didn't try to talk much until the dishes were put away. He came back to sit on the edge of the bed by Wolfram, rubbed his hair awkwardly, said, “Ah, um…” and bent and kissed Wolfram on the forehead.

 

“Don't touch me,” Wolfram hissed involuntarily. Yuuri bolted up as though he'd been electrocuted, staring at Wolfram, looking for signs of him getting self-destructive again. But Wolfram just put a hand to his brow and said, “Sorry, I'm sorry… I just… I don't… Oy, Yuuri…”

 

And Yuuri lost it. For days now he'd kept it together, but now he bawled for a few minutes, racked with sobs. Wolfram tentatively put out a hand to stroke his shoulder, but snatched it back, and instead picked up the knitted dragon. He posed it one way and another and tugged its ears. After a couple minutes, Yuuri's crying squall passed and he mopped his face with a towel from the nightstand. “Sorry, I'm sorry,” he said. “I don't know, why, now…”

 

Wolfram gave him a sideways evaluating glance, and settled on, “Well, you're an idiot and a wimp. I get that from my father, you know… Your timing sucks, Yuuri. If you'd decided a week ago that you loved me and kissed me then… Now… Your timing sucks. This whole thing SUCKS!” Wolfram suddenly yelled that last and hurled the knitted dragon at a bedpost.

 

“Ah, that reminds me!” said Yuuri. “Greta let me borrow gobs of stuffed animals.” He brought over the neglected bundle of toys and dumped them onto Wolfram en masse. “I figured hurling things would help. Well, maybe because I'm a baseball idiot wimp. But, you know, we could set up a point system. That bedpost is only worth one, sorry. The valet stand is five, your vanity is ten. For starters.”

 

Wolfram, inundated in unidentifiable Gwendal-knitted animals, started laughing and hurling and laughing and crying, then settled on crying. But like Yuuri's bout, it lasted only a few minutes. Yuuri wryly handed him the used towel.

 

“The next part of that present was the letters,” Yuuri said. “She's written you every day. We made cards one day together. Sparkly bits and stuff. You're an incredible parent, Wolfram. She did exactly what you told her to do, every day, even when you weren't there.”

 

Wolfram lay with his head back on his pillow, tilted towards Yuuri, wrung out. “You're not half bad yourself,” he said. “She adores you. You don't give yourself enough credit, Yuuri.” He closed his eyes.

 

“Can I hold your hand without you flipping out?” asked Yuuri.

 

“Let's try it,” Wolfram murmured sleepily. And Yuuri held his hand and poured all his love into that small thing, while Wolfram fell asleep. Yuuri stayed that way until Manfred returned and kicked him out.

 

-oOo-

 

Yuuri strode into dinner as usual, ready to take the head of the table and set a bright tone for the meal, only to find Manfred had planted himself at the foot of the table. Gwendal and Cheri, Greta, Günter, and Giesela were already seated.

 

“Adelbert's still on his human-loving kick, but seems a little more rational these days,” Manfred was saying. “Though I suppose I can't complain. His contacts with the Mizrati scum did save Wolfram's life, as Yuuri was saying.”

 

“Maou heika,” Günter attempted to correct him.

 

“Oh, hi, Yuuri,” Manfred said, intentionally missing the point. “Anyway, so Adelbert intended to visit Gratz for a couple days, but if any of his human pets show up, I imagine baby brother Brendan'll kick him out fast.”

 

“Under the inspired leadership of Maou-heika, we're now allies with all of our human neighbors -“ began Günter.

 

“Chichiue Wolfram!” squealed Greta, and ran for the door. And indeed, leaning heavily on Conrad, wrapped in one of Yuuri's bathrobes, Wolfram tottered into the room. Physically healed as he was, he was still weak as a kitten. Replacing all that lost blood would take time.

 

“Greta! Ah, don't knock me over! I've missed you so much, let me sit with you at dinner. You don't mind, Yuuri? Move.” And Wolfram took over his spot facing off down the length of the table against Manfred. Yuuri perforce moved to his left, perplexed by Wolfram suddenly messing with protocol.

 

“Chichiue, I haven't introduced you to our daughter Greta, yet.” Since Wolfram wasn't about to move, and Greta was hiding behind him scared of the human-hostile Wolfram clone, Manfred perforce came to the head of the table and bowed to her.

 

“Pleased to meet you, Greta.” He didn't try to touch her, and walked back to the foot of the table. “Good to see you up, pretty vixen.”

 

“Must you call him that?” Cheri complained.

 

“A deal, Cecilie - if you stop calling him Wolfie. No surprise the lad turned out fey.”

 

“Don't start,” said Wolfram. “Greta, I haven't had a chance to read all your letters yet, but Yuuri tells me great things about how you held him up while I was gone. Good work! I'm playing with the animals, too.”

 

“He beat me 50 to 33 just now,” Conrad told Yuuri. “New rule - hitting a nightstand subtracts three points, minus ten for guests, but only minus one for relatives.” Yuuri grinned, Gwendal twitched, but this all sailed safely over Greta's head.

 

“I'm helping Annissina in the kitchen!” Greta told Wolfram proudly.

 

“Annissina's running the kitchens?” Manfred said, looking. Yuuri feared he considered this inappropriate for a lady of her rank, but instead he said, “That girl's gotten hot. You don't mind if I do something about that, Gwendal?”

 

“Now I thought I saw your hand in this,” Wolfram praised Greta, peering at the happy face salad arrangement. “I like the purple fruit nose. Would you mind running into the kitchen? Ask them to bring out the wine for me. Good girl!”

 

“For me as well, if you could, Greta,” Manfred added. “I'll match you glass for glass.”

 

“Manfred, how could you, he's ill,” said Cheri. Yuuri noted that Giesela seemed unconcerned, however.

 

“Wine all around,” clarified Wolfram. “Lots.” As she disappeared, he added, “Chichiue, let's skip the sexual adventures while my daughter's at table, hm?”

 

“Ah, free love - it figures the only thing Cecilie and I agree on, you'd be opposed to,” said Manfred dryly. That surprised a laugh out of both Conrad and Gwendal. As the wine came in and the server made to fill Yuuri's goblet first, he added, “Good God, Wolfram, upend that child's goblet.”

 

Wolfram avoided Yuuri's eye, but poured water into his wine glass. “Half and half,” he conceded.

 

“Annissina's kindly taken over the kitchens temporarily,” Yuuri tried backtracking the conversation. “Our main cook was involved with Paol, who was… with Wolfram,” he finished lamely.

 

“Paol, eh? A toast!” Manfred announced, standing. When everyone had wine, he continued, “To absent friends and comrades. I salute Paol.” He paused in thought a moment. “And Robair… and Axel, was it?” he asked Wolfram.

 

Wolfram raised his glass, dead serious, though he didn't try to stand. “To Paol, lover of Sanguria, to Robair lover of Axel, and,” he paused, “and to Axel… my first lover…” his voice broke. Everyone at table except Gwendal and Manfred looked surprised at that news. Wolfram continued, “Shinou bless and hold you. I will remember this life and death of yours as long as I shall live, and toast to your rebirth.” And Wolfram drained the glass in one go.

 

“To Paol and Robair and Axel,” the others murmured, and drank the toast. Conrad, Gwendal, and Manfred matched Wolfram drop for drop, so refilled their goblets promptly.

 

“Ah, Wolfram, eat a little,” coaxed Yuuri. Wolfram dutifully took a bite of bread, but was lost in thought.

 

“So, Giesela,” said Manfred, also modeling eating toward Wolfram, “he's not in physical pain any more, so I'd like to cut off the recreational drugs.”

 

Giesela cast a concerned eye at Wolfram. “If you think…”

 

“He'll feel no pain tonight, that's for sure,” said Manfred, as Wolfram raised his glass again.

 

“To Viel, songwriter. To Taran, fellow painter. To Pyotr, who loved gardening. I salute you.” Wolfram drained his glass.

 

“Manfred, for God's sake,” said Cheri. “I can't bear to watch this brutality. I'm leaving.”

 

“I'd like to take Wolfram back to Bielenfeld. Cecilie.”

 

Yuuri's heart hammered as he stared at Manfred in shock. He turned to Wolfram. NO! Please, don't go, don't leave me.

 

But Wolfram had already passed out on his arm on the table.

 

-oOo-

 

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