Kyou Kara Maou Fan Fiction ❯ Watch out for the Green Eyes ❯ Part 8 ( Chapter 8 )

Disclaimer: I don't own Kyou Kara Maou! I'm not making any money.

Warnings: Yaoi (male x male), Yuuri x Wolfram. Some other pairings.

Summary: The action takes place six years after Yuuri and Wolfram got together/six years after the events in “Working out the Paradox”. Yuuri and Wolfram have been married for four years.

A/N 1: Age: Yuuri - 22, Wolfram - who the heck knows?!

A/N 2: I hate Greta; she is nonexistent in this story, and Yuuri has never adopted her.

 

 

Watch out for the Green Eyes

 

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

 

Part 8

 

The atmosphere was charged in the room, Asami noticed. In addition to that he could tell that it wasn't the nervousness that had to do with the fact that they were about to meet the king, no, it was something different. All of them were sitting at the oval table in the middle of the room and eating breakfast that had been brought by the servants. The tension between Kyota and Wolfram was almost tangible. But the most of the strain was wafting from the blue-haired man. That cutting silence of scraping spoons and forks while they were eating was dancing on Asami's nerves. Something happened, but he had no idea what or when - they just went to sleep and when he woke up in the morning, there was that weird atmosphere between the two. He could see that the elite guard also was feeling awkward.

 

They finished their breakfast just the same as it had started - silently and exchanging only several necessary words. After the servants had cleaned the table, they just sat at the table and waited for someone to show up and tell them that they can meet the king.

 

Kyota looked at Wolfram sideways. The emerald eyes met his, the look telling him to cut this out. Kyota's brows furrowed and he lowered his eyes back to the table stubbornly. He knew he had no time for this, he knew he was an idiot to even think about it - that was no big deal, really, because all Wolfram did was jerk off after all, just to relieve the pent up frustration and tension. But still… Wolfram's indifferent look and the cold voice then… But, on the other hand, he didn't know what he could have expected - for Wolfram to smile or laugh embarrassed and pull his pants back up? Just as the prince had said - they weren't kids anymore. The times when they masturbated together in Wolfram's room were long gone. Really, what had he expected? -For Wolfram's invitation to join him? Wolfram had made it clear for him, and more than one time, that there was nothing possible between them anymore. Then why did he…why did he still hope? Why would he still bristle at Yuuri's sight and go mad each time Yuuri touched Wolfram? Why did he feel so hurt now? Why wasn't there a button that he could push and end all these useless and stupid feelings?

 

Kyota stole a glance at Wolfram again. He doubted that the blond had ever told Yuuri about those not so innocent things they used to do together as teenagers. Actually he was sure that the prince didn't because in that case Yuuri wouldn't have been so slack around him. His king wasn't an overly jealous person, but, as any other man, he was possessive of his lover and Yuuri wouldn't have let him visit his husband so freely. This private piece of information used to make him grin inwardly, but today it only annoyed and hurt him because he was the only one still living in those moments. Wolfram was married and moved on a decade ago. And he…was he really that stupid to still expect, to still hope for Wolfram to...? He really was a fool.

 

Asami's gaze shifted from Kyota to the prince. He thought about asking straight out what was going on, but he knew that Wolfram probably wouldn't answer and Kyota…with that look on the man's face he was afraid to even glance at him. Kyota was seemingly a calmer man than Wolfram, but only in the outside. In reality, Kyota was almost the same as the blond, only more patient and had a better sense of humor. But one just needed to dance on the blue-haired man's nerves a little longer and he would erupt like a volcano - he had seen Kyota's eyes then when Wolfram summoned that fire lion and he started complaining to Wolfram, hindering the blond from fighting.

 

Asami hadn't interacted with more fire wielders, so he doubted he could take it as a rule, but it seemed that the most of fire wielders had similar characters - explosive. That tangible authoritative air that Kyota emanated was also found in Wolfram, but under several layers of his personality and once it resurfaced, there was no doubt left who was in charge here. He had been so wrong about the blond earlier. Exactly because of this character feature he had deceived himself thinking about Wolfram as someone not capable of doing any serious work and only managing to wave his fists and sword about - he had thought of Wolfram as an unneeded addition to Yuuri that was encumbering him. Knowing that he didn't like his husband, Yuuri rarely spoke of Wolfram near him. That was probably where Yuuri had made a mistake, letting him think further about Wolfram as he did. In addition to this, Asami knew that it would have been absolutely different if Wolfram were a woman - he would have probably accepted him immediately.

 

Asami lowered his eyes to the table as the emerald ones concentrated on him, questioning his attention. Irritated by the entire atmosphere, Wolfram stood up abruptly to get himself the decanter of water. His head turned around at the sound of the door opening. A guard bowed in the doorway and asked them to follow him. Wolfram's fingers let go of the decanter, and the four of them left the room.

 

After walking down several long corridors they were led into a large hall. The king and his three sons were at the end of it, waiting for them to approach. After entering the hall Wolfram and others were surrounded by a handful of guards. The nobility were wary while Wolfram and others were advancing to them. Finally, they were stopped near the throne. Bowing, Kyota, Wolfram and the guard greeted the royal family. Kyota jabbed Asami in the back.

 

The king was sitting on a throne, his sons standing at his sides. The king was an old man, his hair and moustache gray and long, curling around his dark robes. He seemed to be still in good health and strong. As all locals, he and his sons had dark eyes and skin. His sons were young, this showing that very likely leaving a successor hadn't been the king's first priority. The two youngest sons were twins, only one of them wore his hair long, the other had his cut quite short. They were quite tall and skinny. The third, the eldest, had big penetrating eyes, his facial features being similar to his brothers' and father's, but somehow sharper. His body was also larger, more similar to his father's than his brothers'.

 

The king accepted the greeting and motioned for them to stand straight. “Welcome,” he nodded, making a graceful wave with his hand.

 

“It's a great honor to meet His Majesty and His sons,” Wolfram said, bowing his head again. He was sure of one thing - there were never too many of ceremonies when one didn't know the culture.

 

“We heard that you are a great mage…?” the king asked, casting his eyes over Wolfram's humble stance.

 

Wolfram considered the question. “Yes, I'm quite good,” he said after a second. He smiled after catching a flicker in the king's eyes. “Modesty isn't one of my good qualities.”

 

The king returned the smile then his face became serious. “Let's talk business now,” he said. “First, I'd like to know who you are and what relation you have to Faraya.”

 

Wolfram nodded. “As probably the soldiers we have been traveling with,” he started, “have informed His Majesty, we are from Beshan. We used to…stay together with Reashu Degrass. He was one of His Majesty's upholders. After he had been killed by Faraya's men, we fled. We expect to be more useful here. We want to avenge our…friend.”

 

The king observed the blond after he had finished. He didn't miss the pauses that were made by Wolfram in a couple of sentences. “I don't remember anyone talking about you…” the king pushed. He wasn't interested in Degrass' personal relationships; he simply knew that there was something wrong here.

 

Wolfram lowered his eyes to the ground humbly. “His Majesty must be familiar with what the feeling of jealousy does to a man… Reashu Degrass was a wise man…”

 

Content with the answer, the king nodded. But the fact that the blond had so much power and at the same time used to be a common concubine didn't settle well within him. It didn't make much sense - the blond was too clever for that. The blue-haired one was just smiling politely, his stance neutral and not giving anything off. The brunette seemed hardly interested in the conversation and had an aura of tranquility surrounding him; he seemed as if he might fall asleep anytime. The last one, with undoubtedly a fortune costing glasses, was sweating profusely, his eyes shuttling all around the hall as if he were locked in a cage and being readied for slaughter.

 

“How powerful are you? And what kind of power is it?” the king asked.

 

“The power isn't something I can freely dispose of,” Wolfram said. “It was given to me by God and only He decides when I use it.”

 

“By a god?” the king seemed flabbergasted. His sons, for the first time, showed some reaction and also appeared to be quite shocked. “Which god is it?” he asked.

 

“The God of Fire.”

 

“The same who supports Faraya?” one of the twins, the one with short hair, stepped forward, his look almost mocking.

 

Wolfram merely smiled. “Yes.”

 

“And what do you have to say to justify yourself?” he snorted.

 

Wolfram's smile lighted the entire hall. “I don't think I have done anything yet that would need justifying, Your Highness.”

 

Another twin frowned at the blond. “Then how will you explain the fact that you are able to use the same power as Faraya? There are no more men who can use it!”

 

“Gods are playful creatures,” Wolfram smiled at him. “Faraya stands on one side and I am on another one. Who will win? The first point goes to Faraya, but we have an opportunity to get another one.”

 

The royal family looked at each other then considered Wolfram's words for a minute. Then the short-haired twin shook his head. He raised his dark eyes, the look in them hostile.

 

“You are just a spy,” he said to Wolfram. “You would be waiting for an opportunity to knife us.”

 

Wolfram smiled. Everyone in the hall jumped in that unexpectedness as a huge fireball struck the wall just behind the royal family, the splinters and sparks spraying off the wall and onto the shell-shocked men who scattered around trying to avoid them.

 

Wolfram lowered his arm back to his side. The guards regained their senses and, drawing their swords, hurried forward to the blond. But their king's raised hand stopped them.

 

“Your Highness, were I your enemy,” Wolfram looked at the short-haired twin, “all of you would be dead and I'd be ruling this kingdom now, so please, let's forget this silly talk and let's turn the other page now,” he said to the twin who was staring at the scorched and still smoldering wall behind him. Wolfram turned his attention to the king. “Your Majesty,” he bowed, “please, forgive me for taking such drastic measures, but time is our enemy - we can't lose any of our precious minutes while debating irrelevant things.”

 

The king measured Wolfram from head to toes then nodded. “And what about them?” he said looking at three other men next to Wolfram.

 

“They are my most trusted companions and friends,” Wolfram said. Smiling, he patted Kyota on his shoulder. “This man is the best strategist I've ever known.” He turned to look at other men. “Arachi used to be my bodyguard in Beshan and he has followed me here. Asami,” he pointed at the man who looked aghast, “is our prophet.” Wolfram grinned at Asami who now was wide-eyed. “He can tell everything about the future and the newest technologies.”

 

The eldest son took in Asami cautiously. “And yet it seems he wasn't able to predict that you would have to run from Beshan…” he drawled.

 

Wolfram shrugged. “One can't really tell the ultimate result when gods are involved…”

 

The king came back to his throne and sat down. “We will need some time to think the information over. We will give our answer tomorrow.”

 

“Thank you for hearing us out, Your Majesty,” Wolfram bowed. After that he straightened and went to the door, the guards stepping back to let him through.

 

Kyota, Asami and the elite guard followed his example and went after him.

 

“Why do you think the God has chosen you?” the king's voice stopped them.

 

Wolfram turned around to meet the king's eyes. “Because Faraya is my brother,” he said.

 

XXXXX

 

The guards led them back to their room. Before they were left alone Wolfram had requested new clothes and asked for permission to visit baths. Soon one of the guards came back and said that the requests had been satisfied.

 

While waiting for the clothes they sat down at the table, had a drink and relaxed somewhat.

 

“Let's hope you won't forget all that bullshit you said to them,” Kyota muttered softly. “I've never heard you lie so much in one breath…”

 

Wolfram frowned. He churned the dark liquor in the glass then raised it to swallow some of it. “Yeah, and it has a really bad aftertaste,” he said after putting the glass back onto the table. Kyota had gathered all the information he was able to about Faraya, his followers and opposition and the local gods while they had been traveling to Redek. They had discussed most of their actions beforehand, but there still were many things he had interpreted as he wished today. He hoped they wouldn't meet any of people who had known Reashu Degrass because they would be in much trouble then. They had simply taken the first best name of those who had recently been hunted down by Faraya's intelligence.

 

“You know,” Asami started, “Yuuri would never approve of your methods. To say nothing of you wishing to conquer Bianlu and maybe even its neighbors…”

 

Wolfram raised his glass to his lips to sip again. “Asami, if you have an idea how to get to Beshan in any other way, please share it with me.” His green eyes concentrated on Asami's dark ones. “As long as it helps me find him, I don't give a damn about what he thinks.”

 

The words were said in such a tone that Asami didn't dare say anything more. Wolfram was resolute. He was ready to submerge the entire planet into bloodshed just to find Yuuri. Yes, there was a huge risk that the locals in Beshan would simply burn them on stakes as demons because of their different complexions. Another risk was that as soon as they started questioning if anyone had seen Yuuri, they would be accused of spying, tortured and then killed. And if they entered the city with an army, then they would be free to do as they wish.

 

Sighing, Asami broke the eye-contact and sipped his drink.

 

“He will punish you,” Kyota said, frowning at Wolfram's glass.

 

Wolfram nodded. “Yes, and it won't be anything nice. Very likely he will send me somewhere to a remote village and I'll have to stay there for several decades…”

 

Kyota smiled at the hardly believable thought. “Nah, he loves you too much for that. -He'd come running to you after a month.”

 

“War is something that he really hates,” the prince said, sighing.

 

“Don't worry, he…” Kyota fell silent when Wolfram raised his hand for him to keep quiet.

 

“It doesn't matter. I'll do what I have to do,” the blond shrugged. “I'll deal with consequences later.”

 

XXXXX

 

The baths were steaming, huge and lighted by the sunrays that were falling through stained-glasses in the roof. There were several separate pools. Not staling any further, they shed their clothes and climbed into the nearest one.

 

It felt good to wash off all of the throughout the week accumulated sweat and get rid of tension in their sore muscles.

 

Wolfram shampooed his hair and leaned on the wall of the pool. Simply wanting to soak for awhile, he reclined his head against the edge and closed his eyes. He knew that this was the last of peace they had, he knew what the answer will be tomorrow. The war was inevitable. The king and his sons would never pass the opportunity to get rid of Faraya once and for all. They had wanted this for a long time and he was playing the role of a catalyst.

 

The emerald eyes opened to cast an observing look over Kyota who was chasing after Asami with a sponge in his hand and demanding Asami washed him. Kyota would lead them to the victory. If there was any chance to win, Docharo would do it.

 

Kyota didn't speak to him today. They had exchanged information and had decided on their actions but he could feel that Kyota was still affected by yesterday. He didn't feel any wish to talk about it but Kyota was his best friend and comrade - he had to.

 

As if on cue, Asami and Arachi seemed to finally have enough of water and soaking and climbed out off the pool. Wolfram's eyes watched them go to get the new clothing were neatly folded and lying farther on a cabinet. Those were colorful tunics and sandals that Wolfram had seen local people wearing. Asami and Arachi seemed to get along finely and it was a good thing because he didn't want his husband saying that he didn't take care of Asami - Yuuri was protective of his friends.

 

Leaving the men to their privacy, Wolfram's eyes went back to the blue-haired man. This was getting too frustrating. Wolfram scratched his shampooed head. He dunked his head under water to wash the shampoo off then, once he was done, approached the man. Kyota rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. Wolfram could tell that his friend wanted to apologize but couldn't find the needed words which wouldn't make them both feel awkward.

 

Wolfram's gaze was indescribable; he stared at Kyota for several long seconds and then opened his mouth. A moment later he seemed to change his mind and closed it. When Kyota frowned at him then lowered his eyes, he opened it again.

 

“I can understand your frustration, Kyota,” he started softly, “and…well, the most of it seems because you feel as if I have shut you off. Probably I shouldn't have said those words then in the bathroom - they cut too deep into our past and…but they were supposed to do that. There's a deep connection between us and I treasure it and want in no way to harm it, but I can't give you what you want. Yes, I hesitated and was ready to try when I was sure that my and Yuuri's relationship was impossible; I think it's only human to try to find happiness. But now, even if we never find Yuuri, it won't work. I don't want to hurt you. It's simple as that.” He raised his hand when Kyota wanted to protest and shook his head.

 

“Don't think that I don't know that part of that frustration is because I have shooed you then out of the bathroom.” Wolfram blushed lightly. “We both are men and I know that you feel…well, probably your ego is a bit damaged.” His blush deepened. “It's not that I don't want you. -You are an attractive man and even if…” Wolfram didn't know where to put his eyes so stared at the foamy water in front of him, “…if my imagination does run wild sometimes, it is very different from the way you want me. While to me it's only about sex, to you it's about feelings. It would leave you…even in a deeper mess than you are in right now.”

 

Kyota stared at Wolfram's lowered head for some time. Wolfram's upper body was sprinkled with droplets that were sparkling and running down in the sunlight thrown through the stained-glasses. Kyota resisted the urge to trace the same path the droplets had run over the smooth pale skin, to brush that rebellious hair out of his face. He lowered his hand when Wolfram brushed it out of his eyes himself. Wolfram rarely spoke much and even less about feelings, but when he did…

 

“You don't make much sense, Wolfram,” Kyota said.

 

The prince scratched his head and raised his eyes to look at him. He sighed. “Do you know what I learned when I was chasing after Yuuri six years ago? -There's a wall of bricks between “like”, “love” and “want”. I like you and I might want you, but I don't love you.”

 

Kyota nodded. He knew that. He had always known that. “I know that, Wolfram. I know that your heart and body belong to another man. I know all of that. It's just that…” Frustrated, he shook his head, water splashing around him. Helplessly, he looked at Wolfram again. “Knowing doesn't help much. It doesn't prevent me from thinking what noises you make and how you arch and crave him when he touches and caresses you. You know, sometimes I hate him so much that all I wish is to stick my sword through his heart.”

 

Wolfram lowered his head and sighed. There was nothing he could say. Any further words would only hurt Kyota. “I'm sorry.” The water rippled and he could tell that the other man flinched.

 

Kyota laughed softly and bitterly. “You silly, what are you apologizing for?”

 

Wolfram raised his head. Tiredly, he looked at the blue eyes. “I don't know. Probably for everything that was not meant to be.”

 

XXXXX

 

Just as predicted, Wolfram's suggestion was accepted and preparations with planning began. Day after day he, Kyota, the king, his oldest son and the wisest men of the country loomed over maps, pushed figurines around to predict their enemy's and their own retaliatory moves.

 

After long day of planning, Kyota and Wolfram would go to see their troops and make sure the men were ready. Then, hardly standing on their feet, they would go to a nearest tavern to have a drink while discussing what still needed to be done. Later they would go back into the castle, wash themselves and drop dead until the next morning. Those were long days.

 

“It's all set then?” Kyota asked after almost a week of preparations.

 

Wolfram sighed and sipped his beer. “You know better than me, General.” He saluted Kyota.

 

Kyota rolled his eyes and blew on the froth in his goblet. He raised it and sipped. This was the same tavern, the same beer he had drunk several days in a row and still, today it didn't taste well. He knew that the prince was also nervous - Wolfram was drinking the beer as if it were his last day. Watching the blond go to the counterman for more beer, he sighed.

 

With a newly filled goblet, Wolfram started maneuvering back to the table he had left Kyota at. He wanted to smack a man who was staring at him too intently, but just closed his eyes. Tripping and cursing, Wolfram realized that the beer had inevitably worsened his balance. On his one knee, the goblet and most of the beer saved and raised high in the air, he lifted his head only to meet five hands extended for him. Smiles and catcalls vibrated all in the tavern. Snorting, the blond ignored them and the offered hands and rose back to his feet on his own. He stumbled through the tables to Kyota who had been watching the scene with a soft smile on his face.

 

The leering stares irritating him, Wolfram walked around the table and stood next to where Kyota was sitting. He slammed the goblet noisily onto the table.

 

“I'm sorry Kyota, but you'll have to be my boyfriend,” he hissed softly. “I can't take this anymore!”

 

Kyota laughed loudly at the declaration. He grinned at Wolfram then. “No problem, babe,” he said, smacking Wolfram on his backside, the loud slap crossing the tavern happily, his palm molding around the curvy buttock.

 

Wolfram stared at Kyota, his half-drunken mind not comprehending what had just occurred here.

 

“Here, the declaration is now official,” Kyota winked. “Now, kiss me,” he pointed at his right cheek.

 

“Kyota…” the blond hissed, and Kyota removed his hand quickly before Wolfram decided to do something really bad to him. “You are going to get for this…” Wolfram said seriously before leaning in to give that kiss.

 

That night Kyota had to almost carry Wolfram to the castle. He had never seen the blond so sloshed. After putting Wolfram into his bed, he couldn't fall asleep for a long time. About an hour later he heard Wolfram's bed creak and then the sound of the blond's quickly tapping feet followed. Lying in his bed silently, Kyota wondered if Wolfram made it to the bathroom in time.

 

XXXXX

 

The next day they sent out the first troops. They aimed for Sahan kingdom to cut out any possible support for Faraya. The small groups went different ways, met and joined at night just outside Sahan's capital where the barracks stood. Half of the soldiers were still trying to find their horses or pull their trousers up when they were attacked. The barracks were wiped out in one blitz-attack. The ones who managed to escape, for the rest of their lives had an image of flaming hell and the blue-haired man who had brought it. Just as the army came, in the same quick way it went back.

 

The next target was another of Faraya's neighbors, but it didn't go that easy with Dirushi kingdom. They didn't manage to get into the capital. Dirushi defended itself well and then counterattacked. Kyota was beaten off and had to fall back to wait for backup. Retreating, he had taken a small city with a fortress and held his position there.

 

The support came several days later, after Kyota's men were starved and thirsty and ready to eat anything that moved, even better if that anything was in the plated armor and wore different colors than them. The reinforcement beat back Sahan's army off the fortress and freed Kyota's troops. The backup had barged not only through Sahan's soldiers, they had also encountered Faraya's troops in their way. Half of Wolfram's army was already missing when he reached Kyota.

 

Kyota sighed tiredly, lowered his sword and sheathed it when Wolfram and one of the generals rode in through the gates. He leaned on the wall and closed his eyes for a moment. “About damn time,” he muttered.

 

Through the debris and corpses Wolfram's eyes found the blue-haired male and he urged his horse out of the ranks. He jumped off the horse and ran up the stairs to the defensive wall.

 

“I'm okay,” Kyota said to calm those worried eyes down as the blond approached, “just tired. Give me half an hour.”

 

Discussing and analyzing the situation they climbed downstairs. They had not expected that Sahan would have drawn their troops off the border with Giman, the kingdom they weren't very friendly with, and send them here.

 

Kyota and the blond sat down next to a quickly spread cloth to eat and drink. Fifteen minutes later Wolfram split his army in two, took the most men and Kyota and immediately set off after Sahan's retreating troops, leaving other men under the general's who had come together with him command. Kyota's men badly needed to have a rest.

 

Kyota's men and the rest of Wolfram's troops spent the day and night in the fortress and in the morning all of them went after the prince and their blue-haired leader.

 

The battle was already over when they approached. The field was smoldering here and there, the grass scorched black, the stench of burnt flesh being tossed around by the puffs of wind. Survivors were digging up the wounded from under the corpses and tending them. Everything seemed to be well organized. Looking around, the general rode up to where he could see a mop of distinctive blue hair. On his way he noticed a group of soldiers riding toward forest.

 

Kyota turned around at the call. Seeing that it was the general of the newly arrived troops, he turned away and continued spilling orders to his men. He had no time for him.

 

“What's the situation?” the general shouted from afar.

 

Kyota snorted and turned around. “Sahan's running army joined up with Faraya's troops and intercepted us. Wolfram got the most of them, though.”

 

The general nodded. He looked around. “And where's Wolfram?” he shouted.

 

“Missing.”

 

“Missing?” the general repeated, his wide brows furrowing in confusion.

 

Kyota finished instructing the soldiers and urged his horse toward the general. “The battle was a mess, he said after approaching. “Wolfram burnt the most of them and the smoke was everywhere; one could hardly see anything. My men reported that he had chased someone deeper into the forest,” he motioned with his hand at the forest farther from them. “Nobody has seen him or those who were with him go back from there. I have sent my men deeper into it but it might take a while until he's found.”

 

The general's skeptical look set onto the forest. “There's hardly a chance that he's still alive,” he said.

 

Kyota's eyes turned dark blue. “Shut your mouth!” he snapped. He knew that himself - he didn't need anyone rattling him further. Wolfram should have returned long ago and if he didn't, it meant that something serious had happened.

 

From the insulted and red in anger general's face, Kyota turned to look at the forest again. He wished he could have left Wolfram safe back in Redek together with Asami and Arachi. Wolfram was his King's husband after all. If Yuuri was nowhere to be found, it would be Wolfram who would take over Shin Makoku. It was his duty to protect the prince. The problem was that the prince was strictly against protecting himself.

 

XXXXX

 

When Wolfram entered the forest, his only thought was not to let the enemy escape and report. He and several soldiers chased after the riders deeper into the forest. Everything was fine and he had almost caught up with them, but his man's horse that was in front of him got his leg stuck deep in a hole and somersaulted high in the air, its neatly torn off leg flipping backwards. Wolfram's horse tripped over the frantic with pain obstacle in its way and the next thing Wolfram knew was that he was flying high into the air. His eyes managed to catch the movements on his right and then he hit the tree, his vision going black.

 

When Wolfram came round, the first thing he noticed was a splitting headache and constant bumping that corresponded with the pangs in his head. His senses told him that he was lying face down with his legs and wrists bound. Several seconds passed and he could tell that he was thrown on the horse and being carried somewhere. Groaning, he raised his head to look around. Trees were flowing against his eyes. After turning his head he saw four horsemen. He closed his eyes and after a second of concentration he could tell that there were other three or four riders on the other side of the horse he was on.

 

As soon as Wolfram started considering burning his bonds off and escaping, he noticed that the forest had ended. Instead of it he saw an approaching village and the tents near it. He was in the enemy's camp. He was screwed. There was no way he could take on so many men and in such a condition - he wasn't even sure if he could stand straight or have enough control over any of the elements while his head was still spinning that much.

 

Several minutes later they approached the camp. The man over whose horse he had been thrown, grabbed him unceremoniously by his collar and dropped to the ground as a sack of potatoes. Wolfram cursed loudly at the pain that laced through his backside and then spine. He raised his head to give a reddish glare to the man who was motioning for one of the soldiers to give a flask with water.

 

Wolfram spluttered and coughed in shock and disbelief as the man suddenly swashed the contents of the flask directly into his face. While Wolfram's ringing head was busy dealing with shock, the man mopped messily over the blond's face with his palm.

 

“It's really him,” he nodded then when he got the most of soot and blood off the prince's face. He tossed the empty flask back to the soldier who had given it to him. He leaned down to check Wolfram's pockets then pulled out the golden bracelet from one of them and held out it against the sun. Looking at the sparkling piece of jewelry he grinned. “Yeah, it's really him. The blue-haired's whore.”

 

Wolfram considered butting him in the head then decided that it was better to be considered Kyota's “whore” than a dangerous captive. If it could help get him alive out of this situation, he'd accept being called even worse. While the soldiers thought about him as a precious hostage, he had a chance to survive.

 

Wolfram noticed that suddenly it became silent around him. He looked to the side to see a quite large man approaching. The soldiers moved out of his way and there was no doubt that he was a high-ranked soldier. Wolfram locked his eyes with the older man.

 

The man observed him then reached his hand out for Wolfram's head. Wolfram instinctively moved his head back. He yelped in pain as the man grabbed him by his hair and forced him to look up.

 

“A pretty face indeed,” the man nodded. “And that hair,” he ruffled the blond locks, “and green eyes…” He raised his head to grin at the soldier who had brought Wolfram. “I think you have just found something to suit His Majesty's taste.”

 

The soldier grinned back. “Then it's twice as good.” He looked at Wolfram who glared back at him from the ground. “And to think that I simply thought of killing him when the fool knocked his head against the tree…” The soldier turned back to the commander. “How much could I get for him, Sir?” he asked.

 

“You?” the commander asked in such a tone that it was clear that the soldier wouldn't get even half of the money. He motioned at Wolfram. “Bring him into my tent and then we'll see.”

 

An hour later the camp was broken and they moved out. As there were not enough horses, Wolfram, with his hands bound, was seated in front of the commander. Wolfram would have preferred walking to that because most of the time while they were riding the commander did nothing except for rubbing himself against his backside. By the time they stopped for a break, despite his head killing him, Wolfram had had 29 ideas of how to slaughter him. The only thing keeping him from using one of them was that he wanted to reach Faraya alive. His pride had to stay low if he wanted to find Yuuri and be of any use to him.

 

A day later they met an approaching army from Bianlu. Wolfram traded hands and with a group of soldiers was sent back to the capital of Bianlu, Beshan, directly into the castle that, after a tiring and humiliating journey, he reached five days later.

 

XXXXX

 

Faraya was sitting on the throne and listening to his military advisors, his dark eyes following every movement on the floor in front of him while one of them was pushing around the figurines that indicated armies. Frowning he shook his head at the suggestion and motioned with his hand to pull the figurines back. He raised his head as the knock echoed in the huge hall. He watched several guards pushing some fair-haired man through the door. He remembered that had been informed about him earlier - the blue-haired's lover. He was also told that the captive was really something to look at. While waiting for the group to approach, Faraya felt interest spark inside him.

 

The king's eyes slid over the man in front of him. Despite dirty, with his clothes torn and the bruises on his pale skin, the blond was gorgeous, just as he was told. Faraya motioned for the soldiers to bring the blond to him then stepped off the throne to look at the beauty closer. The blond yelped as one of the soldiers kicked his legs, forcing him to drop to his knees against him.

 

Faraya grinned when the man's head rose and his eyes burnt into his defiantly.

 

"So you are the one who calls himself Wolfram...?" Faraya circled the blond in a leisure walk.

 

"Wolfram von Bielefeld," Wolfram corrected him.

 

Faraya was content to notice that none of the bruises and scratches was nasty and threatened to leave scars on the blond's white like alabaster skin. All of them were only minor, the soldiers being careful to deliver the blond unharmed. Skin like this had to mar easily and he really had to commend the soldiers, for already from the posture itself he could tell that the blond had been a pain to deal with.

 

“Get up,” Faraya ordered.

 

The blond was really something to look at: the lithe, wonderfully sculpted body that was telling about youth, strength and precipitation; the brightly shining and slightly curling blond hair of average length that he was sure was soft to the touch; the intelligent, unbelievably green and dangerously sparkling eyes sharpened by a dark circle of lush eyelashes; the full rosy lips; the thin fair brows covered by several loose curls; high forehead and regular features.

 

Reaching out and tugging on a lock of golden hair he ascertained that it really felt very pleasant to the touch. Dragging slowly over its length, he straightened the lock between his fingers. Obediently, the lock conceded beneath his touch. It bounced back to its original form as soon as he let go of it.

 

Faraya could see that Wolfram hardly restrained himself from hitting him, the emerald eyes flashing dangerously. However, the blond knew perfectly that he would not tolerate any disobedience, especially in front of so many people. But those unbelievably green eyes were also telling him that Wolfram knew he would not kill him, not until he tasted him, - the blond perfectly knew his sexual appeal.

 

Faraya grabbed Wolfram by his chin, forcing his head higher to look into those defiant eyes. He loved the fire he found there. Whoever had had the blond earlier, he had been a lucky man. Now it was his turn to make use of the beauty in front of him.

 

The scornful and curious looks were flowing from the entire hall and falling on the blond. This was securing his position. A corner of Faraya's lips quirked up. He had the blue-haired leader's lover and was free to do to him everything he wished. He was going to make sure that everybody knew he had the blond in his hands. Wolfram would not forget his stay here.

 

TBC

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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