[FIC] Heaven to No One Else.
Title: Heaven to No One Else.
Fandom: Kyou Kara Maou.
Warnings: Smut, angst.
Characters/couples: Conrad/Yuuri, others.
Summary: What happiness is about.
Rating: R/NC17.
Notes: Written for the kkm_vday. I'd ask who knew it was me, but I fail and I'm sure everyone and their pandas knew :p.
Heaven to No One Else.
I believe
This is heaven to no one else but me
And I’ll defend it as long as I can be
Left here to linger in silence
If I choose to
Would you try to understand?
Elsewhere, Sarah McLachlan.
It's the little things that make life enjoyable. A smile shared in silence, an afternoon playing baseball, a tanned hand touching his arm, happy and unworried laughter.
They’re also the ones that feed want and crave. Conrad doesn’t mind them and just carefully keeps hold on the little remnants of Yuuri he can.
He knows it’s impossible and highly unlikely to ask for more, so he makes do with what the young king gives without realizing.
Yozak thinks he’s taking the martyr complex to the next level, and lets him know. Constantly and repeatedly, with the worst timing he can get with the help of a nosey Sage.
“Really, captain. I know you’re fond of your left arm; I just didn’t know it was focused over your left hand.” Yozak says, rising an eyebrow with the quirk of a smile that reads both as annoyance and worry.
Conrad shakes his head and fixes his uniform. “Are the men ready?”
“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry about that, Captain. The men are hiding inside the castle and also outside,” Yozak smile turns more amused than annoyed and he snorts. “Kiddo really has no idea, right?”
“His Majesty wants this reunion between both kingdoms to go as peaceful as possible, and he has been studying with Günther to learn the costumes of Iselia.”
“Translation from Weller to the rest of the world: ‘Of course Kiddo doesn’t know about the risk of assassins, Yozak, and if I told him he’d get sad’,” Yozak clicks his tongue against the roof his mouth and leans against the wall, arms crossed. Conrad smiles, shaking his head towards his friend, because there really isn’t a point on hiding stuff to someone who has seen you at your worst. “Really, captain. You’re getting soft in your old age.”
“You’re ten years older than me, Yozak.” Conrad says as he goes out. Yozak’s laugh and drawling voice trails behind him.
“Yes, but running around in heels keeps me in better shape than you’ll ever know, captain!”
***
At eighteen, Yuuri is all long limbs that are still awkward and at times flailing, but there’s some kind of grace in the simple way he moves and acts, his very own kind that no one else has, as if from one day to the other Yuuri had stopped playing pretend and had started being a king.
Conrad knows the comparison is a little unfair, but it’s easy to see in the way that Yuuri holds his head up now, in his smile, in his laugh, even if he’s still the same old Yuuri that would rather play with the children than sign papers all day.
“And mom’s all ‘you better choose a career, Yuu-chan! You don’t want to stay behind! Sho-chan already knew what he wanted to study when he was your age! And look at Ken-kun, too!’” Yuuri shakes his head and puts the last clasp in place; Conrad moves forward and fixes the one granted by Francshire, a cross with a heart of onyx in the middle. Yuuri huffs and looks at him with a small frown. “It’s not fair. Murata has had whole centuries to choose careers; right now he’s just ticking off the ones he has never tried! And of course Shouri knew, he had like ten years to decide which would help him!” Yuuri pouts and sighs, almost moving his hand to his hair but stopping before messing it more. “I mean, it’s not as if there’s a ‘Royalty 101’ or ‘Administration in Foreign Worlds’ in college, y’know? How am I supposed to know which one to pick?”
Yuuri looks at him, wide eyes pleading for him to have an answer and Conrad just can’t stop his smile, shrugging a bit and fixing Yuuri’s cape. Morgif gives a moan of appreciation and he can’t stop from chuckling.
“Your Majesty should choose whichever career makes him happy,” he says, gently but firmly, before looking at him, curious. “What happened with baseball?”
“Nah. Not enough time. And I’m not good enough to go pro,” but before Conrad can interrupt to reassure him, Yuuri grins at him, all mischief and warmth in his expression. “‘sides, I already own a team, right?”
Conrad nods with a fond smile, and he shakes his head when Yuuri turns back to the mirror, hands soothing invisible wrinkles to try and stay calm before picking up Morgif and setting him over its sheath. Yuuri’s eyes follow him through the mirror and he smiles, gentle and shy; Conrad’s heart gives a soft ache that he has grown used to and is almost welcome.
"Conrad? You always wanted to be a soldier when you were a kid?"
Conrad smiles, shaking his head. "I wanted to be a pirate."
Yuuri snorts, and then tries to hide a giggle behind his hand, as if it didn’t show from his eyes and his whole face. Yuuri won’t ever be able to hide his smile, and Conrad will always be grateful for that.
"Really?"
"But of course, Majesty," Conrad says, giving a serious nod even as his lips quirk without his permission. "But then I decided that yellow wasn't really my color, and I couldn't possibly wear a long skirt graciously enough to ransack and cause mayhem."
"Conrad..." Yuuri laughs and shakes his head, but he’s interrupted from saying anything more when Wolfram knocks and walks in.
“Ready, wimp?”
“Is it really that hard to call me ‘Yuuri’?” The young king asks but nods. He turns to look at him with a grin. “Really, you brothers. I’m gonna end up believing you dislike my name or something like that.”
Conrad’s smile widens a bit but he doesn’t answer; Wolfram is busy asking Yuuri if he remembers everything he has to say and how to act, frowning in concern and Yuuri is trying to waive his ex-fiancé’s doubts, and their banter fills the hallway like a trail for him to follow.
***
Wolfram’s eyes were so sad, so betrayed. Conrad hadn’t seen him looking like that since he had found out that he was half human, and there was also the hope of his young brother that his older brother could somehow fix things, make everything better.
The same heart-breaking ache filled him when he realized that, just like fifty years before, he couldn’t do a thing.
“Of course,” Wolfram said then, shaking his head as he closed his eyes. Conrad pretended not to notice the way Wolfram’s voice was rough, how his brother wiped his eyes. “Of course, I should’ve known!”
“It wasn’t my intention for you to find out,” he apologized. He didn’t move closer to Wolfram, knew from experience that, when cornered, Wolfram would lash out and then regret it in silence, and he had hurt Wolfram enough.
At his words, however, Wolfram turned around suddenly, eyes hard and angry and still incredibly upset.
“You never… what?! You fucking idiot!” Wolfram’s hand trembled and Conrad didn’t stray his hand from Wolfram’s face, even if he wondered if his brother would use maryoku; it wouldn’t be the first time Wolfram lost control of his temper like that. “You have no idea, do you?”
“Wolfram…” he started, the apology ready in his tongue again, bitter with regrets, already missing the company of his younger brother, sure that this would cause another rift between them, a bigger one that Wolfram wouldn’t forgive nor forget.
“Just shut it, Weller,” Wolfram said, suddenly tired and sad again before walking by his side without looking at him again before pausing by the door. “If you ever break his heart, I won’t forgive you.”
Wolfram walked away before Conrad was able to tell him that he wasn’t going to tell Yuuri about this, that it didn’t matter at all because he was used to the wanting and not having and that he was more than happy with how things were, not resigned like he had been with Julia, but actually happy.
And Wolfram refused to listen afterwards, so it was Conrad’s place to try and comfort a confused and somewhat hurt Yuuri, once Wolfram broke the engagement without any kind of explanation whatsoever.
***
When the last sound of hooves against the wet ground go away, Conrad stops pressing Yuuri against the bark of the tree, looking around, sword drawn, before giving him a nod and, with his arm still around the king’s shoulders, they move as fast as they possibly can when the rain is so heavy they can barely see.
If the maps he studied before are correct (and they are; Yozak had made sure of that a week ago) there’ll be a cave to the northwest where they’ll probably won’t be searched for; the Iselians are terribly superstitious and that cave had been the nest for a few Shin Makoku birds a few years ago before the bird relocated. Their calls of ‘bad omens’ have worked for their sake and have caused this part of the forest to be known as haunted, and if the assassins decide to risk it and get close, most likely they will leave that place as the last place to search.
Once inside the (mostly clean, thanks to Yozak’s care) cave, he finally moves his arm from Yuuri’s shoulder and motions him to stay quiet as he searches the ground for the wood he knows Yozak would have left there.
“Conrad?”
“It’s okay, Your Majesty.” Conrad says, shrugging of his jacket to stop dripping water as he tries to light with numb fingers the fire, succeeding after the fourth time.
They have to keep it small, to try and avoid the risk of being seen and even then Conrad moves a stone towards the side, both to protect it from the wind and to offer a bit of a shelter from the light, but it’s enough to at least chase a bit of the cold from the icy water, and it’s more than enough for them to see at least the outline of each other.
“You should take off your jacket,” Conrad says, searching around the small cave and finally spotting one rough wool blanket that Yozak probably left ‘just in case’. “You’ll get hypothermia.”
Yuuri shakes his head, still perturbed at the sudden attack, and disappointed, mostly. His shoulders are slumped and Conrad wishes there was something he could do to make him feel better, make him understand that it’s not his fault and that he’s almost certain everything will work out in the end.
“C’mon, when was the last time I got sick because of being wet?” Yuuri says but he does shrug off his jacket, most of the medals and consecrations other kingdoms have given him lost after his cape was cut by that sword, leaving him only the Francshire cross.
Conrad smiles and puts the blanket around Yuuri’s shoulder, picking up the cross to keep it safe, pushing wet bangs away with his hand as he tries to offer comfort, ignoring the slight pull over his side, not moving his eyes away from Yuuri’s face.
“Despite the fact that we’re near the border, Majesty, we still are in human territory. It would be unwise to risk that your elemental magic could still offer you its complete protection here.”
“I guess,” Yuuri says with a sigh, but there’s the start of a smile over his lips and Conrad finally moves his hand away. Unluckily, Yuuri’s eyes follow the movement, and they fall upon the blood over his side. “Conrad! You’re hurt!”
The sting of the blood had barely been enough to bother him when it happened, the injury more annoying that painful, but still he would have preferred for Yuuri not to find out about it.
Yuuri’s eyes cloud and he moves his hand carefully to his side. His skin is cool but not cold like Conrad’s own, and his fingers gently touch the ruined shirt, the blood that has seeped through the fabric.
“This was…” Yuuri doesn’t finish his phrase, but Conrad knows he remembers being pushed away by him, just as Conrad remembers how his throat had closed when Yuuri pushed one of the scared Iselian princesses away and the assassin had raised his sword, ready to strike the Demon King.
Yuuri frowns and then closes his eyes, and Conrad starts feeling the maryoku soothe the sting of the wound before he grabs Yuuri’s wrist and moves it away from his side.
“It’s really not necessary, Your Majesty,” he says, but Yuuri looks at him then, worry and some anger inside his eyes.
“You’re bleeding! Of course it’s needed, Conrad!”
“It’s not serious,” he assures gently, and then adds to try and soothe those lines of worry that seem to run so deep, “I’ve been in much worse shape when parrying with Yozak or Wolfram, Majesty.”
At that, Yuuri gives a weak, trembling laugh, but he stops looking at him and looks down, hair wet plastered to his forehead. Startled, Conrad feels his pulse from where he’s still holding his hand, and it’s still rushed and frantic.
"Okay..."
Conrad frowns, thinks of letting go and doesn’t. "Yuuri? What's wrong?"
Yuuri shakes his head, biting his lip but when Conrad gives a soft, concerned squeeze to his wrist, he speaks, voice raw and vulnerable… and scared.
"You gotta stop doing that, man..."
"Stop doing what?" Conrad tries not to frown, even if he has a pretty good idea about what Yuuri is talking about, but the young king looks up at that, and if his blood is still rushing too fast through his veins, his eyes are just as determined.
“This! The whole protecting me!” And he shakes his head at that, but doesn’t break free from his hold. “And don’t come out with the ‘it’s my duty and my honor’ shit either! I know you have to protect me and okay, I get it, it’s your job, but…”
“Yuuri…” He starts in concern, but he doesn’t get to finish because Yuuri shakes his head again, voice like crystal shards.
"You’re doing it all wrong! You're not protecting me with your life, you want to protect me with your death!" Yuuri screams, and there's rage and fear over his face and Conrad is aware that he has to make him quiet down but Yuuri doesn’t give him a chance. Yuuri only ever gets angry when his dear ones are in danger, and he's shaking now. "You're risking your life, what if one day you actually die? What am I supposed to do then, huh? What good will it do me if I have to spend the rest of my life without you?"
His throat aches, and Conrad realizes he’s not able to speak. Yuuri looks down again for a moment and, hesitantly, slides his hand but doesn’t move it away, and suddenly Conrad’s holding unto Yuuri’s cool, shaking, rough fingers and looking into the young man’s eyes, almost begging.
“Your hand, your chest… your whole life… I don’t want them, Conrad. Not like that. Not if it means you won’t be here. With me. I… Conrad, I don’t want you to die for me! Don’t you get it?”
He’s not sure he’s breathing, not when Yuuri’s eyes are so very intense and certain, much less when Yuuri takes a step forward - and his hand is still holding his, fingers twining together and Yuuri keeps his eyes on him before he leans forward, the difference in their heights almost completely unnoticeable as Yuuri presses rain-tasting lips to his, squeezing his hand almost painfully, and inside him it hurts much worse than the injury, hurts enough that the craving that’s been feeding inside for so long seems to erupt and Conrad, for the first time in decades, just wants.
He surrenders to the kiss and for once decides that he can think of the consequences later, opens his lips softly and chases the taste of rain of Yuuri’s lips with his tongue and hears his breath hitch as Yuuri also opens his lips and moves even closer, trapping him between his body and the wall of the cave. When his hand touches his side, maryoku healing him, Conrad thinks he should stop Yuuri and just stop this, but he just feels a shiver run up his spine as Yuuri moans when he pushes one of his legs between Yuuri’s.
"Oh..." Yuuri moans against his mouth, his hands holding unto his shoulders strangely steady - and it's really happening because they're not over a bed and so it shouldn't surprise him that it feels so strangely new, so tender, so brittle. If when Yuuri slides his tongue into his mouth is a bit awkward, Conrad doesn't care, trying to gather each bump and caress into filling all the craving he has had for so long.
“Conrad,” Yuuri whispers, barely breaking apart before kissing him again, and Conrad dares to think that perhaps Yuuri has wanted this as much as he has, as often as he has, the feeling increasing when Yuuri shifts against him and he feels his cock half hard against his own arousal.
"You want me," he says, not sure if it’s a question or a statement but Yuuri, despite his blush nods, moving a hand down and pressing his hand just a little against his dick and he gives him a small smile, as if reassured.
"Yeah," Yuuri says almost sheepishly and now Conrad is the one kissing him, holding him tight against him. He feels like laughing, and perhaps hitting himself with something heavy for having lost so much time, but more than anything he feels like kissing Yuuri for as long as possible, keep the sweet friction and the knowledge that Yuuri wants him.
He sucks gently on Yuuri’s lower lip, slowing his pace and moving his leg a little, just to hear Yuuri’s breath catch, and if he has some doubts, Yuuri thrusting against the brief touch of his hand against his groin is more than enough for him to flick open Yuuri’s trousers, slide them and the underwear down enough so that his knuckles and then his fingers can brush against Yuuri’s cock.
"Ah -” Yuuri arches a little, breaking the kiss and his breath catching again once he curls his hand around his erection, dropping his head against his wet shoulder with a gasp. Conrad can’t help but smile, pressing a kiss to the top of Yuuri’s head, tasting more rain and the faint smell of Yuuri’s shampoo. “Just…”
“Mmm?” He doesn’t interrupt the slow stroking, although he’s surprised when he feels Yuuri moving his hands towards the front of his own trousers, trembling. “Yuuri, it’s not -”
Yuuri shakes his head, but he hasn’t really moved his head from his shoulder, giving a groan as Conrad’s finger rubs against the wet slit of his cock. “I want you too, Conrad.”
He groans at that, at hearing the raw need on Yuuri’s voice so he doesn’t stop him when Yuuri is finally able to open his trousers, giving a slight hiss at the way Yuuri’s fingers tremble for a moment before curling around his cock, a little too softly, giving a few hesitant strokes that make his throat go dry; if he didn’t know Yuuri, he’d almost think he was teasing.
“Let me, Yuuri.” he asks, giving a half grin when Yuuri looks at him before leaning forward to kiss him again, moving Yuuri’s hand away from his cock and drawing him forward, completely pressed against him, enough so that his dick is brushing against Yuuri’s before he curls his hand around both their erections, stroking them together, and Yuuri gives a strangled moan against his neck, pushing against his hand.
“Faster…”
He feels Yuuri’s mouth against his neck, panting and gasping at every stroke of his hands, his hips thrusting in a somewhat clumsy rhythm, holding unto Conrad’s shirt, sliding over his waist to his back, holding tightly.
Conrad feels himself sweating, the feel of it weird with his still wet clothes, and he can feel where Yuuri’s breath is moist against his neck, as if its heat was seeping through him via his frantic sounds. He leans down to kiss Yuuri again, feeling Yuuri’s enthusiastic response as he sucks on his tongue, an answer that makes him move faster, harder than he would want to, feeling friction and pre-come as their cocks rub, unable to stop from moaning into Yuuri’s mouth.
Yuuri’s hands hold on almost painfully, and then Yuuri tears apart from the kiss, starts saying what Conrad thinks might be his name before he gives a long moan. His cock pulses, and his come wets both their cocks and Conrad’s hand, and the feel of that, along with Yuuri slumping against him, makes him gasp and bite his lip as his balls tighten and he comes as well.
It’s over after a few moments of magnificent nothing, even as he slumps against the wall for extra support, before he blinks and looks down at Yuuri, finding Yuuri looking up at him again, hesitant again despite the flush of his face and the sweat drying over his skin.
Conrad gives a small smile and leans to kiss him again, soft and gentle, touching his face.
“My life is yours,” he says seriously after breaking the kiss, but he doesn’t let Yuuri’s eyes fall before he adds with a caress to the side of his face. “So I’ll be careful. As much as possible.”
The smile that Yuuri gives him and the way his arms close around his waist as Yuuri leans against him make the ache inside him change into something more quiet and yet, much more intense.
***
The assassins, Yozak informs them a few hours later, once they’ve been found and reunited with the rest of the nobles, aren’t in with the Iselia Royal Family; they’re a revolutionary group that still believes the old tales about Mazoku drinking baby’s blood every new moon.
“Wait. Did Mazoku ever do that?” Yuuri asks (with Günther still draped over him, all too glad that his Majesty is unharmed), turning to look at Murata.
“Maa, Shibuya, don’t believe everything you hear,” the Great Sage informs him before adding. “It was only once every decade over the new moon of the first month, really. If we had killed a baby once every month, we would’ve run out of them quite soon.”
As Yuuri coughs and chokes on air, Wolfram huffs and looks towards the map.
“So they’re against the truce. What else?”
“Well, the Iselian Front isn’t really happy with the royalty either. They’ve been wanting to overthrow them for a while and, well… the last straw was the queen wanting to ally with us. The queen’s more of a revolutionary herself, and she believes Iselia has been following superstitions for too long and wants to leave ‘em behind. Part of the country supports her, the other part… well, they’re not too happy, to put it mildly. They think this modernization will just break Iselia apart completely.”
“So this is because of us?” Yuuri asks, eyes suddenly sad. Conrad puts his hand on his shoulder and squeezes softly.
“No, Your Majesty. Those sort of disagreements brew for a long time before they explode. They just took advantage of the truce to try and start a revolution.”
“Then we have to stop them!” Yuuri says with a serious nod and Conrad can’t help but smile at the determination in his eyes. “There’s gotta be a way for the two parts to get an arrangement without war!”
Wolfram rolls his eyes. “Why did I know you were going to say something like that, wimp?”
“’Cause it’s the truth?”
Gwendal sighs and shakes his head, frowning. “We don’t have enough people for this. What we ought to do is retire and come back with proper troops.”
“But that might cause the Iselians to believe we’re invading.” Günther says, serious.
Murata nods. “And it’d cause more panic and it’d probably give more reasons to the revolutionary group to start more conflicts.”
“Not that it matters much,” Yozak adds. “‘cause tomorrow they’re already planning to attack the castle.”
Yuuri shakes his head then, frowning. “I’ll go then, before it starts, and I’ll try to talk to the chief of the revolutionary group. Unarmed,” Morgif, who after having been left alone, carried away by Wolfram and almost stolen by one of the Iselians wasn’t speaking to Yuuri, gave a loud, angry moan. “Sorry, Morgif, but I don’t want them to feel I’m attacking them.”
“You can’t possibly be serious!” Wolfram is the first to react after Yuuri’s impromptu plan, while Gwendal is frowning and Günther gasping. Conrad takes notice of Yozak and Murata exchanging looks and he guesses that they, as well as he, had already considered the possibilities of Yuuri saying something like that. “Do you have any idea how many things could go wrong, Yuuri?!”
Yuuri turns to look at him, pleading, and Conrad debates between the need to protect him and the promise he made, so he gives a slight nod before addressing his brothers.
“His Majesty is right. If all of us go they’ll think Shin Makoku is actually trying to conquer Iselia,” he waits a moment and then adds. “You can wait hidden, so if things go out of control you can help us.”
“‘Us’?” Gwendal intones, frown deepening so much that three new wrinkles seem to appear. Yuuri is also looking at him, serious.
He smiles, gently, looking at the king in the eyes. “They won’t be expecting you to go completely alone, and they saw me with you. I’ll go unarmed too.”
“Well, then!” Murata says with a grin. “If that’s settled, I think we should call it a day. We’ve to wake up early tomorrow if we want to stop this war before it starts, don’t we?”
With the meeting ending after that and the few soldiers they did bring standing guard outside of the abandoned cabin where they’re taking shelter, Conrad settles against a wall, eyes closed and a hand near his sword, just in case.
He’s not surprised when Yuuri comes near him once the lights are out, so he just smiles softly when he feels Yuuri’s fingers on the back of his hand, slowly opening his eyes.
“Something wrong?” He whispers softly, smiling, but Yuuri doesn’t smile as he looks at him, serious before he gives a soft nod and whispers too.
“Remember what you said,” Yuuri asks him, holding his stare. Conrad waits for a moment before he nods, cupping Yuuri’s face with his hand before he leans to brush his lips against Yuuri’s once, softly.
“I remember.”
Yuuri smiles again, a relieved gesture before he settles by his side against the wall, not quite leaning against him, not quite staying completely upright either, but when he finally falls asleep and his head leans against his shoulder, Conrad moves him gently so he can rest against his lap, leaving his hand against Yuuri’s hair.
***
By the time the youngest Iselian princess is captured, the confrontation had already gone bad enough to give Conrad nightmares.
Their leader is a stubborn, smart man who has grudges against the Mazoku because of the war, and he’s quick enough to dismiss Yuuri’s pledge of only wanting peace between the nations and attacking with a bomb.
Conrad doesn’t stop himself from thinking what would’ve happened if Yozak and Murata hadn’t been ready with ‘Hot-potatoes-kun’ and had managed to throw the bomb far away from Yuuri before it exploded, where one of Gwendal’s snakes ate the bomb, too, to try and keep the damage at minimum.
His brothers, the Great Sage and Yuuri don’t count with much maryoku for this battle. They are close enough to Shin Makoku that they can draw a bit for emergencies, but Conrad knows, as he catches the Morgif and his sword from Yozak’s throw, that they won’t be able to use many attacks.
So when the young girl is captured and used as a hostage, he knows that something drastic is going to happen.
“Let the girl go,” Yuuri asks, his voice rough even as the aura of maryoku surrounds him. It’s been years since the last time he really transformed, even more since he fainted after the use of his maryoku, but his eyes have gone to slits. “She is an innocent. Your fight isn’t with her.”
“It is, y’bastard!” The leader snarls. Conrad takes notice that Wolfram seems to be trying to call some of his maryoku, too, just like Gwendal and Günther are. “Get the fuck off m’country!”
“Your fight isn’t with King Yuuri only,” the Iselian Front is as surprised as them, the few soldiers that had gone to fight with them also shocked to see queen Sera walking forward, unarmed but decided. Yuuri is the only one not to turn around to look at her, his eyes still over the crying, scared child and the man holding her. “It’s also with me. It’s my fault as Iselia’s queen not to have listened to you and your group and to just consider them extremist.”
Conrad sees a few of the Iselian Front look at each other, confused, and notices Yozak and Murata, who have been fending bombs with a few of Anissina’s creations, nod at each other, moving carefully towards the leader, ready to distract him and free the young princess before anything happens.
“War between our nations or war between Iselians will only cause suffering,” Yuuri says, his maryoku still flowing and his voice still commanding. Queen Sera nods.
“It was my mistake not to have tried to include your point of views in the treaty. Let’s reunite the three of them and try to get to a specific agreement. There has been enough Iselian blood spilled over the years to cause more harm.”
Conrad waits, holding his breath, as some members of the Front look at each other, considering. Then, it happens: a woman around her forties throws away the spear she had been holding and sits down where she was, ignoring the dumbfounded look of the soldier that had been trying to fend himself against her without hurting her (as the queen’s orders had been) and, soon, the rest of the Front is doing the same.
Yuuri’s maryoku vanishes and he smiles, turning to look at the queen and then at the leader, who is still holding the princess hostage.
“C’mon and lets talk, yeah?” Yuuri asks, kind. “We can work something out.”
Surrounded, his own men deserting him, the man has to release the princess, who quickly stumbles and runs towards her mother. Queen Sera runs for her daughter too, her crown falling, and Yuuri grins, turning around towards Gwendal, Günther and Wolfram and smiling at them.
That’s when the leader picks up the crossbow he had been holding, aims against Yuuri, and shoots.
“CONRAD!” Yuuri and Wolfram scream at the same time.
He hears the sharp intake of breath from the queen, the scream of fright from the princess and hears Günther’s spell immobilizing the leader before he feels Yuuri’s hand on him, trembling, scared, and he looks at him, wide eyed and pale.
He smiles, shaking his head.
“I’m fine, Yuuri,” he says, moving to sit down despite the shouts to stay calm, for someone to call a doctor soon, unbuttoning his jacket to show that he is fine.
In the inside pocket of his jacket, the honor cross that Francshire had given Yuuri now has an arrow hole below the heart, but Conrad can’t stop from smiling.
“I promised, didn’t I?”
Yuuri doesn’t say a thing as he throws his arms around him, hugging him tightly, and Conrad can’t complain even when a stone digs against a bruise.
Conrad thinks he hears Wolfram mutter a ‘finally! ’ before his brother walks towards Gwendal, but he decides that he can indulge in returning Yuuri’s hug if only for a moment.
***
Life is made of small details. A smile pressed against his shoulder, curious fingers following the path of scars over his skin and lips soothing over them despite the fact that they are long healed, that they haven’t hurt for years, hearing a muttered 'five more minutes' when he says it's time to wake up.
So is happiness.
Fandom: Kyou Kara Maou.
Warnings: Smut, angst.
Characters/couples: Conrad/Yuuri, others.
Summary: What happiness is about.
Rating: R/NC17.
Notes: Written for the kkm_vday. I'd ask who knew it was me, but I fail and I'm sure everyone and their pandas knew :p.
Heaven to No One Else.
I believe
This is heaven to no one else but me
And I’ll defend it as long as I can be
Left here to linger in silence
If I choose to
Would you try to understand?
Elsewhere, Sarah McLachlan.
It's the little things that make life enjoyable. A smile shared in silence, an afternoon playing baseball, a tanned hand touching his arm, happy and unworried laughter.
They’re also the ones that feed want and crave. Conrad doesn’t mind them and just carefully keeps hold on the little remnants of Yuuri he can.
He knows it’s impossible and highly unlikely to ask for more, so he makes do with what the young king gives without realizing.
Yozak thinks he’s taking the martyr complex to the next level, and lets him know. Constantly and repeatedly, with the worst timing he can get with the help of a nosey Sage.
“Really, captain. I know you’re fond of your left arm; I just didn’t know it was focused over your left hand.” Yozak says, rising an eyebrow with the quirk of a smile that reads both as annoyance and worry.
Conrad shakes his head and fixes his uniform. “Are the men ready?”
“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry about that, Captain. The men are hiding inside the castle and also outside,” Yozak smile turns more amused than annoyed and he snorts. “Kiddo really has no idea, right?”
“His Majesty wants this reunion between both kingdoms to go as peaceful as possible, and he has been studying with Günther to learn the costumes of Iselia.”
“Translation from Weller to the rest of the world: ‘Of course Kiddo doesn’t know about the risk of assassins, Yozak, and if I told him he’d get sad’,” Yozak clicks his tongue against the roof his mouth and leans against the wall, arms crossed. Conrad smiles, shaking his head towards his friend, because there really isn’t a point on hiding stuff to someone who has seen you at your worst. “Really, captain. You’re getting soft in your old age.”
“You’re ten years older than me, Yozak.” Conrad says as he goes out. Yozak’s laugh and drawling voice trails behind him.
“Yes, but running around in heels keeps me in better shape than you’ll ever know, captain!”
***
At eighteen, Yuuri is all long limbs that are still awkward and at times flailing, but there’s some kind of grace in the simple way he moves and acts, his very own kind that no one else has, as if from one day to the other Yuuri had stopped playing pretend and had started being a king.
Conrad knows the comparison is a little unfair, but it’s easy to see in the way that Yuuri holds his head up now, in his smile, in his laugh, even if he’s still the same old Yuuri that would rather play with the children than sign papers all day.
“And mom’s all ‘you better choose a career, Yuu-chan! You don’t want to stay behind! Sho-chan already knew what he wanted to study when he was your age! And look at Ken-kun, too!’” Yuuri shakes his head and puts the last clasp in place; Conrad moves forward and fixes the one granted by Francshire, a cross with a heart of onyx in the middle. Yuuri huffs and looks at him with a small frown. “It’s not fair. Murata has had whole centuries to choose careers; right now he’s just ticking off the ones he has never tried! And of course Shouri knew, he had like ten years to decide which would help him!” Yuuri pouts and sighs, almost moving his hand to his hair but stopping before messing it more. “I mean, it’s not as if there’s a ‘Royalty 101’ or ‘Administration in Foreign Worlds’ in college, y’know? How am I supposed to know which one to pick?”
Yuuri looks at him, wide eyes pleading for him to have an answer and Conrad just can’t stop his smile, shrugging a bit and fixing Yuuri’s cape. Morgif gives a moan of appreciation and he can’t stop from chuckling.
“Your Majesty should choose whichever career makes him happy,” he says, gently but firmly, before looking at him, curious. “What happened with baseball?”
“Nah. Not enough time. And I’m not good enough to go pro,” but before Conrad can interrupt to reassure him, Yuuri grins at him, all mischief and warmth in his expression. “‘sides, I already own a team, right?”
Conrad nods with a fond smile, and he shakes his head when Yuuri turns back to the mirror, hands soothing invisible wrinkles to try and stay calm before picking up Morgif and setting him over its sheath. Yuuri’s eyes follow him through the mirror and he smiles, gentle and shy; Conrad’s heart gives a soft ache that he has grown used to and is almost welcome.
"Conrad? You always wanted to be a soldier when you were a kid?"
Conrad smiles, shaking his head. "I wanted to be a pirate."
Yuuri snorts, and then tries to hide a giggle behind his hand, as if it didn’t show from his eyes and his whole face. Yuuri won’t ever be able to hide his smile, and Conrad will always be grateful for that.
"Really?"
"But of course, Majesty," Conrad says, giving a serious nod even as his lips quirk without his permission. "But then I decided that yellow wasn't really my color, and I couldn't possibly wear a long skirt graciously enough to ransack and cause mayhem."
"Conrad..." Yuuri laughs and shakes his head, but he’s interrupted from saying anything more when Wolfram knocks and walks in.
“Ready, wimp?”
“Is it really that hard to call me ‘Yuuri’?” The young king asks but nods. He turns to look at him with a grin. “Really, you brothers. I’m gonna end up believing you dislike my name or something like that.”
Conrad’s smile widens a bit but he doesn’t answer; Wolfram is busy asking Yuuri if he remembers everything he has to say and how to act, frowning in concern and Yuuri is trying to waive his ex-fiancé’s doubts, and their banter fills the hallway like a trail for him to follow.
***
Wolfram’s eyes were so sad, so betrayed. Conrad hadn’t seen him looking like that since he had found out that he was half human, and there was also the hope of his young brother that his older brother could somehow fix things, make everything better.
The same heart-breaking ache filled him when he realized that, just like fifty years before, he couldn’t do a thing.
“Of course,” Wolfram said then, shaking his head as he closed his eyes. Conrad pretended not to notice the way Wolfram’s voice was rough, how his brother wiped his eyes. “Of course, I should’ve known!”
“It wasn’t my intention for you to find out,” he apologized. He didn’t move closer to Wolfram, knew from experience that, when cornered, Wolfram would lash out and then regret it in silence, and he had hurt Wolfram enough.
At his words, however, Wolfram turned around suddenly, eyes hard and angry and still incredibly upset.
“You never… what?! You fucking idiot!” Wolfram’s hand trembled and Conrad didn’t stray his hand from Wolfram’s face, even if he wondered if his brother would use maryoku; it wouldn’t be the first time Wolfram lost control of his temper like that. “You have no idea, do you?”
“Wolfram…” he started, the apology ready in his tongue again, bitter with regrets, already missing the company of his younger brother, sure that this would cause another rift between them, a bigger one that Wolfram wouldn’t forgive nor forget.
“Just shut it, Weller,” Wolfram said, suddenly tired and sad again before walking by his side without looking at him again before pausing by the door. “If you ever break his heart, I won’t forgive you.”
Wolfram walked away before Conrad was able to tell him that he wasn’t going to tell Yuuri about this, that it didn’t matter at all because he was used to the wanting and not having and that he was more than happy with how things were, not resigned like he had been with Julia, but actually happy.
And Wolfram refused to listen afterwards, so it was Conrad’s place to try and comfort a confused and somewhat hurt Yuuri, once Wolfram broke the engagement without any kind of explanation whatsoever.
***
When the last sound of hooves against the wet ground go away, Conrad stops pressing Yuuri against the bark of the tree, looking around, sword drawn, before giving him a nod and, with his arm still around the king’s shoulders, they move as fast as they possibly can when the rain is so heavy they can barely see.
If the maps he studied before are correct (and they are; Yozak had made sure of that a week ago) there’ll be a cave to the northwest where they’ll probably won’t be searched for; the Iselians are terribly superstitious and that cave had been the nest for a few Shin Makoku birds a few years ago before the bird relocated. Their calls of ‘bad omens’ have worked for their sake and have caused this part of the forest to be known as haunted, and if the assassins decide to risk it and get close, most likely they will leave that place as the last place to search.
Once inside the (mostly clean, thanks to Yozak’s care) cave, he finally moves his arm from Yuuri’s shoulder and motions him to stay quiet as he searches the ground for the wood he knows Yozak would have left there.
“Conrad?”
“It’s okay, Your Majesty.” Conrad says, shrugging of his jacket to stop dripping water as he tries to light with numb fingers the fire, succeeding after the fourth time.
They have to keep it small, to try and avoid the risk of being seen and even then Conrad moves a stone towards the side, both to protect it from the wind and to offer a bit of a shelter from the light, but it’s enough to at least chase a bit of the cold from the icy water, and it’s more than enough for them to see at least the outline of each other.
“You should take off your jacket,” Conrad says, searching around the small cave and finally spotting one rough wool blanket that Yozak probably left ‘just in case’. “You’ll get hypothermia.”
Yuuri shakes his head, still perturbed at the sudden attack, and disappointed, mostly. His shoulders are slumped and Conrad wishes there was something he could do to make him feel better, make him understand that it’s not his fault and that he’s almost certain everything will work out in the end.
“C’mon, when was the last time I got sick because of being wet?” Yuuri says but he does shrug off his jacket, most of the medals and consecrations other kingdoms have given him lost after his cape was cut by that sword, leaving him only the Francshire cross.
Conrad smiles and puts the blanket around Yuuri’s shoulder, picking up the cross to keep it safe, pushing wet bangs away with his hand as he tries to offer comfort, ignoring the slight pull over his side, not moving his eyes away from Yuuri’s face.
“Despite the fact that we’re near the border, Majesty, we still are in human territory. It would be unwise to risk that your elemental magic could still offer you its complete protection here.”
“I guess,” Yuuri says with a sigh, but there’s the start of a smile over his lips and Conrad finally moves his hand away. Unluckily, Yuuri’s eyes follow the movement, and they fall upon the blood over his side. “Conrad! You’re hurt!”
The sting of the blood had barely been enough to bother him when it happened, the injury more annoying that painful, but still he would have preferred for Yuuri not to find out about it.
Yuuri’s eyes cloud and he moves his hand carefully to his side. His skin is cool but not cold like Conrad’s own, and his fingers gently touch the ruined shirt, the blood that has seeped through the fabric.
“This was…” Yuuri doesn’t finish his phrase, but Conrad knows he remembers being pushed away by him, just as Conrad remembers how his throat had closed when Yuuri pushed one of the scared Iselian princesses away and the assassin had raised his sword, ready to strike the Demon King.
Yuuri frowns and then closes his eyes, and Conrad starts feeling the maryoku soothe the sting of the wound before he grabs Yuuri’s wrist and moves it away from his side.
“It’s really not necessary, Your Majesty,” he says, but Yuuri looks at him then, worry and some anger inside his eyes.
“You’re bleeding! Of course it’s needed, Conrad!”
“It’s not serious,” he assures gently, and then adds to try and soothe those lines of worry that seem to run so deep, “I’ve been in much worse shape when parrying with Yozak or Wolfram, Majesty.”
At that, Yuuri gives a weak, trembling laugh, but he stops looking at him and looks down, hair wet plastered to his forehead. Startled, Conrad feels his pulse from where he’s still holding his hand, and it’s still rushed and frantic.
"Okay..."
Conrad frowns, thinks of letting go and doesn’t. "Yuuri? What's wrong?"
Yuuri shakes his head, biting his lip but when Conrad gives a soft, concerned squeeze to his wrist, he speaks, voice raw and vulnerable… and scared.
"You gotta stop doing that, man..."
"Stop doing what?" Conrad tries not to frown, even if he has a pretty good idea about what Yuuri is talking about, but the young king looks up at that, and if his blood is still rushing too fast through his veins, his eyes are just as determined.
“This! The whole protecting me!” And he shakes his head at that, but doesn’t break free from his hold. “And don’t come out with the ‘it’s my duty and my honor’ shit either! I know you have to protect me and okay, I get it, it’s your job, but…”
“Yuuri…” He starts in concern, but he doesn’t get to finish because Yuuri shakes his head again, voice like crystal shards.
"You’re doing it all wrong! You're not protecting me with your life, you want to protect me with your death!" Yuuri screams, and there's rage and fear over his face and Conrad is aware that he has to make him quiet down but Yuuri doesn’t give him a chance. Yuuri only ever gets angry when his dear ones are in danger, and he's shaking now. "You're risking your life, what if one day you actually die? What am I supposed to do then, huh? What good will it do me if I have to spend the rest of my life without you?"
His throat aches, and Conrad realizes he’s not able to speak. Yuuri looks down again for a moment and, hesitantly, slides his hand but doesn’t move it away, and suddenly Conrad’s holding unto Yuuri’s cool, shaking, rough fingers and looking into the young man’s eyes, almost begging.
“Your hand, your chest… your whole life… I don’t want them, Conrad. Not like that. Not if it means you won’t be here. With me. I… Conrad, I don’t want you to die for me! Don’t you get it?”
He’s not sure he’s breathing, not when Yuuri’s eyes are so very intense and certain, much less when Yuuri takes a step forward - and his hand is still holding his, fingers twining together and Yuuri keeps his eyes on him before he leans forward, the difference in their heights almost completely unnoticeable as Yuuri presses rain-tasting lips to his, squeezing his hand almost painfully, and inside him it hurts much worse than the injury, hurts enough that the craving that’s been feeding inside for so long seems to erupt and Conrad, for the first time in decades, just wants.
He surrenders to the kiss and for once decides that he can think of the consequences later, opens his lips softly and chases the taste of rain of Yuuri’s lips with his tongue and hears his breath hitch as Yuuri also opens his lips and moves even closer, trapping him between his body and the wall of the cave. When his hand touches his side, maryoku healing him, Conrad thinks he should stop Yuuri and just stop this, but he just feels a shiver run up his spine as Yuuri moans when he pushes one of his legs between Yuuri’s.
"Oh..." Yuuri moans against his mouth, his hands holding unto his shoulders strangely steady - and it's really happening because they're not over a bed and so it shouldn't surprise him that it feels so strangely new, so tender, so brittle. If when Yuuri slides his tongue into his mouth is a bit awkward, Conrad doesn't care, trying to gather each bump and caress into filling all the craving he has had for so long.
“Conrad,” Yuuri whispers, barely breaking apart before kissing him again, and Conrad dares to think that perhaps Yuuri has wanted this as much as he has, as often as he has, the feeling increasing when Yuuri shifts against him and he feels his cock half hard against his own arousal.
"You want me," he says, not sure if it’s a question or a statement but Yuuri, despite his blush nods, moving a hand down and pressing his hand just a little against his dick and he gives him a small smile, as if reassured.
"Yeah," Yuuri says almost sheepishly and now Conrad is the one kissing him, holding him tight against him. He feels like laughing, and perhaps hitting himself with something heavy for having lost so much time, but more than anything he feels like kissing Yuuri for as long as possible, keep the sweet friction and the knowledge that Yuuri wants him.
He sucks gently on Yuuri’s lower lip, slowing his pace and moving his leg a little, just to hear Yuuri’s breath catch, and if he has some doubts, Yuuri thrusting against the brief touch of his hand against his groin is more than enough for him to flick open Yuuri’s trousers, slide them and the underwear down enough so that his knuckles and then his fingers can brush against Yuuri’s cock.
"Ah -” Yuuri arches a little, breaking the kiss and his breath catching again once he curls his hand around his erection, dropping his head against his wet shoulder with a gasp. Conrad can’t help but smile, pressing a kiss to the top of Yuuri’s head, tasting more rain and the faint smell of Yuuri’s shampoo. “Just…”
“Mmm?” He doesn’t interrupt the slow stroking, although he’s surprised when he feels Yuuri moving his hands towards the front of his own trousers, trembling. “Yuuri, it’s not -”
Yuuri shakes his head, but he hasn’t really moved his head from his shoulder, giving a groan as Conrad’s finger rubs against the wet slit of his cock. “I want you too, Conrad.”
He groans at that, at hearing the raw need on Yuuri’s voice so he doesn’t stop him when Yuuri is finally able to open his trousers, giving a slight hiss at the way Yuuri’s fingers tremble for a moment before curling around his cock, a little too softly, giving a few hesitant strokes that make his throat go dry; if he didn’t know Yuuri, he’d almost think he was teasing.
“Let me, Yuuri.” he asks, giving a half grin when Yuuri looks at him before leaning forward to kiss him again, moving Yuuri’s hand away from his cock and drawing him forward, completely pressed against him, enough so that his dick is brushing against Yuuri’s before he curls his hand around both their erections, stroking them together, and Yuuri gives a strangled moan against his neck, pushing against his hand.
“Faster…”
He feels Yuuri’s mouth against his neck, panting and gasping at every stroke of his hands, his hips thrusting in a somewhat clumsy rhythm, holding unto Conrad’s shirt, sliding over his waist to his back, holding tightly.
Conrad feels himself sweating, the feel of it weird with his still wet clothes, and he can feel where Yuuri’s breath is moist against his neck, as if its heat was seeping through him via his frantic sounds. He leans down to kiss Yuuri again, feeling Yuuri’s enthusiastic response as he sucks on his tongue, an answer that makes him move faster, harder than he would want to, feeling friction and pre-come as their cocks rub, unable to stop from moaning into Yuuri’s mouth.
Yuuri’s hands hold on almost painfully, and then Yuuri tears apart from the kiss, starts saying what Conrad thinks might be his name before he gives a long moan. His cock pulses, and his come wets both their cocks and Conrad’s hand, and the feel of that, along with Yuuri slumping against him, makes him gasp and bite his lip as his balls tighten and he comes as well.
It’s over after a few moments of magnificent nothing, even as he slumps against the wall for extra support, before he blinks and looks down at Yuuri, finding Yuuri looking up at him again, hesitant again despite the flush of his face and the sweat drying over his skin.
Conrad gives a small smile and leans to kiss him again, soft and gentle, touching his face.
“My life is yours,” he says seriously after breaking the kiss, but he doesn’t let Yuuri’s eyes fall before he adds with a caress to the side of his face. “So I’ll be careful. As much as possible.”
The smile that Yuuri gives him and the way his arms close around his waist as Yuuri leans against him make the ache inside him change into something more quiet and yet, much more intense.
***
The assassins, Yozak informs them a few hours later, once they’ve been found and reunited with the rest of the nobles, aren’t in with the Iselia Royal Family; they’re a revolutionary group that still believes the old tales about Mazoku drinking baby’s blood every new moon.
“Wait. Did Mazoku ever do that?” Yuuri asks (with Günther still draped over him, all too glad that his Majesty is unharmed), turning to look at Murata.
“Maa, Shibuya, don’t believe everything you hear,” the Great Sage informs him before adding. “It was only once every decade over the new moon of the first month, really. If we had killed a baby once every month, we would’ve run out of them quite soon.”
As Yuuri coughs and chokes on air, Wolfram huffs and looks towards the map.
“So they’re against the truce. What else?”
“Well, the Iselian Front isn’t really happy with the royalty either. They’ve been wanting to overthrow them for a while and, well… the last straw was the queen wanting to ally with us. The queen’s more of a revolutionary herself, and she believes Iselia has been following superstitions for too long and wants to leave ‘em behind. Part of the country supports her, the other part… well, they’re not too happy, to put it mildly. They think this modernization will just break Iselia apart completely.”
“So this is because of us?” Yuuri asks, eyes suddenly sad. Conrad puts his hand on his shoulder and squeezes softly.
“No, Your Majesty. Those sort of disagreements brew for a long time before they explode. They just took advantage of the truce to try and start a revolution.”
“Then we have to stop them!” Yuuri says with a serious nod and Conrad can’t help but smile at the determination in his eyes. “There’s gotta be a way for the two parts to get an arrangement without war!”
Wolfram rolls his eyes. “Why did I know you were going to say something like that, wimp?”
“’Cause it’s the truth?”
Gwendal sighs and shakes his head, frowning. “We don’t have enough people for this. What we ought to do is retire and come back with proper troops.”
“But that might cause the Iselians to believe we’re invading.” Günther says, serious.
Murata nods. “And it’d cause more panic and it’d probably give more reasons to the revolutionary group to start more conflicts.”
“Not that it matters much,” Yozak adds. “‘cause tomorrow they’re already planning to attack the castle.”
Yuuri shakes his head then, frowning. “I’ll go then, before it starts, and I’ll try to talk to the chief of the revolutionary group. Unarmed,” Morgif, who after having been left alone, carried away by Wolfram and almost stolen by one of the Iselians wasn’t speaking to Yuuri, gave a loud, angry moan. “Sorry, Morgif, but I don’t want them to feel I’m attacking them.”
“You can’t possibly be serious!” Wolfram is the first to react after Yuuri’s impromptu plan, while Gwendal is frowning and Günther gasping. Conrad takes notice of Yozak and Murata exchanging looks and he guesses that they, as well as he, had already considered the possibilities of Yuuri saying something like that. “Do you have any idea how many things could go wrong, Yuuri?!”
Yuuri turns to look at him, pleading, and Conrad debates between the need to protect him and the promise he made, so he gives a slight nod before addressing his brothers.
“His Majesty is right. If all of us go they’ll think Shin Makoku is actually trying to conquer Iselia,” he waits a moment and then adds. “You can wait hidden, so if things go out of control you can help us.”
“‘Us’?” Gwendal intones, frown deepening so much that three new wrinkles seem to appear. Yuuri is also looking at him, serious.
He smiles, gently, looking at the king in the eyes. “They won’t be expecting you to go completely alone, and they saw me with you. I’ll go unarmed too.”
“Well, then!” Murata says with a grin. “If that’s settled, I think we should call it a day. We’ve to wake up early tomorrow if we want to stop this war before it starts, don’t we?”
With the meeting ending after that and the few soldiers they did bring standing guard outside of the abandoned cabin where they’re taking shelter, Conrad settles against a wall, eyes closed and a hand near his sword, just in case.
He’s not surprised when Yuuri comes near him once the lights are out, so he just smiles softly when he feels Yuuri’s fingers on the back of his hand, slowly opening his eyes.
“Something wrong?” He whispers softly, smiling, but Yuuri doesn’t smile as he looks at him, serious before he gives a soft nod and whispers too.
“Remember what you said,” Yuuri asks him, holding his stare. Conrad waits for a moment before he nods, cupping Yuuri’s face with his hand before he leans to brush his lips against Yuuri’s once, softly.
“I remember.”
Yuuri smiles again, a relieved gesture before he settles by his side against the wall, not quite leaning against him, not quite staying completely upright either, but when he finally falls asleep and his head leans against his shoulder, Conrad moves him gently so he can rest against his lap, leaving his hand against Yuuri’s hair.
***
By the time the youngest Iselian princess is captured, the confrontation had already gone bad enough to give Conrad nightmares.
Their leader is a stubborn, smart man who has grudges against the Mazoku because of the war, and he’s quick enough to dismiss Yuuri’s pledge of only wanting peace between the nations and attacking with a bomb.
Conrad doesn’t stop himself from thinking what would’ve happened if Yozak and Murata hadn’t been ready with ‘Hot-potatoes-kun’ and had managed to throw the bomb far away from Yuuri before it exploded, where one of Gwendal’s snakes ate the bomb, too, to try and keep the damage at minimum.
His brothers, the Great Sage and Yuuri don’t count with much maryoku for this battle. They are close enough to Shin Makoku that they can draw a bit for emergencies, but Conrad knows, as he catches the Morgif and his sword from Yozak’s throw, that they won’t be able to use many attacks.
So when the young girl is captured and used as a hostage, he knows that something drastic is going to happen.
“Let the girl go,” Yuuri asks, his voice rough even as the aura of maryoku surrounds him. It’s been years since the last time he really transformed, even more since he fainted after the use of his maryoku, but his eyes have gone to slits. “She is an innocent. Your fight isn’t with her.”
“It is, y’bastard!” The leader snarls. Conrad takes notice that Wolfram seems to be trying to call some of his maryoku, too, just like Gwendal and Günther are. “Get the fuck off m’country!”
“Your fight isn’t with King Yuuri only,” the Iselian Front is as surprised as them, the few soldiers that had gone to fight with them also shocked to see queen Sera walking forward, unarmed but decided. Yuuri is the only one not to turn around to look at her, his eyes still over the crying, scared child and the man holding her. “It’s also with me. It’s my fault as Iselia’s queen not to have listened to you and your group and to just consider them extremist.”
Conrad sees a few of the Iselian Front look at each other, confused, and notices Yozak and Murata, who have been fending bombs with a few of Anissina’s creations, nod at each other, moving carefully towards the leader, ready to distract him and free the young princess before anything happens.
“War between our nations or war between Iselians will only cause suffering,” Yuuri says, his maryoku still flowing and his voice still commanding. Queen Sera nods.
“It was my mistake not to have tried to include your point of views in the treaty. Let’s reunite the three of them and try to get to a specific agreement. There has been enough Iselian blood spilled over the years to cause more harm.”
Conrad waits, holding his breath, as some members of the Front look at each other, considering. Then, it happens: a woman around her forties throws away the spear she had been holding and sits down where she was, ignoring the dumbfounded look of the soldier that had been trying to fend himself against her without hurting her (as the queen’s orders had been) and, soon, the rest of the Front is doing the same.
Yuuri’s maryoku vanishes and he smiles, turning to look at the queen and then at the leader, who is still holding the princess hostage.
“C’mon and lets talk, yeah?” Yuuri asks, kind. “We can work something out.”
Surrounded, his own men deserting him, the man has to release the princess, who quickly stumbles and runs towards her mother. Queen Sera runs for her daughter too, her crown falling, and Yuuri grins, turning around towards Gwendal, Günther and Wolfram and smiling at them.
That’s when the leader picks up the crossbow he had been holding, aims against Yuuri, and shoots.
“CONRAD!” Yuuri and Wolfram scream at the same time.
He hears the sharp intake of breath from the queen, the scream of fright from the princess and hears Günther’s spell immobilizing the leader before he feels Yuuri’s hand on him, trembling, scared, and he looks at him, wide eyed and pale.
He smiles, shaking his head.
“I’m fine, Yuuri,” he says, moving to sit down despite the shouts to stay calm, for someone to call a doctor soon, unbuttoning his jacket to show that he is fine.
In the inside pocket of his jacket, the honor cross that Francshire had given Yuuri now has an arrow hole below the heart, but Conrad can’t stop from smiling.
“I promised, didn’t I?”
Yuuri doesn’t say a thing as he throws his arms around him, hugging him tightly, and Conrad can’t complain even when a stone digs against a bruise.
Conrad thinks he hears Wolfram mutter a ‘finally! ’ before his brother walks towards Gwendal, but he decides that he can indulge in returning Yuuri’s hug if only for a moment.
***
Life is made of small details. A smile pressed against his shoulder, curious fingers following the path of scars over his skin and lips soothing over them despite the fact that they are long healed, that they haven’t hurt for years, hearing a muttered 'five more minutes' when he says it's time to wake up.
So is happiness.