New Year: A Brother's Fear
I think...this is my first posting here, so, um...nice ta meet ya! It's waaaaay late for such a story; I was supposed to put it up on New Year itself, but *sigh*.
Disclaimer: Does not own.
Anime: Kyou Kara Maou
Title: New Year: A Brother's Fear
Genre: General/Comfort/Brotherhood
Warning: OOC-ness
Pairing: -nai!-
“Koo-ni-chan, you cheated!” As rare as it was, there was that laughter that blended annoyance and humour.
“I did not!” And there you go, the polite, mock defense put up, just for the sake of the situation.
“Stop squabbling, the both of you.” Of course, there’s no missing the resigned patience in the peace-settler.
The 26th Maou of Shin Makoku smiled fondly at the noise coming not too far away from her seat under the shade of the tree. It was not a normal day for her. No, really.
Warming sun, and leaping breezes, and pirouetting butterflies, and lilting flowery scent and gurgling brooks and wisha-wisha-ing trees, and childish, squabbling noises from her children - not normal. Normal was cursing old fools, tons of paperwork, the stinking smell of moulding library books, and stuffy, stuffy silence in her office, a prelude to a song of war-drum about to explode in the future. The Maou knew, from the time when she had inherited the throne, that her time would be a time of chaos.
Shinou had already informed her beforehand: should she accept the throne, these troubled times will be the mark of her reign. It’s not her time that makes it a time of war, really. Anyone, not just her, on the throne at this time would be facing a time of unease.
It just so happened that she was the one Shinou selected to play the role of war bringer.
It’s just simply necessary for the growth of the nation, and for preparation of the Golden Age of the 27th Maou.
So yes, who can blame her for liking abnormal more than normal? Leaning back against the trunk of the beech tree behind her, she tilted her head back and stared up at the canopy above. Stray strands of sunshine filtered through and dappled the picnic cloth. Taking a deep breath, she surveyed the royal garden, taking note that the gardeners seemed to have worked extra hard during the past month. There was no sight of any symptoms of the plant strain that had attacked the garden in just the previous month.
Instead, blue, purple, orange, yellow, pink, red, opal, lilac heads nodded respectfully at her in the brief blow of wind, unaware of past dangers.
“Haha-ue!”
And before she knew it, she was met with a lapful of vibrant yellow hair - exactly the same as her own - and mischievous green eyes - also so similar to hers, except that they were a lighter, more carefree shade of green; hers were darkened too much by involuntary decisions and forced determination - stared back up at her.
“Koo-ni-chan cheated, you know. He used that funny thing that Anissina -”
“Throw-pebbles-furthest-kun,” a deeper, more amiable voice interrupted, followed by a light whump by her side, and her second son was smiling at her, soothing her calm with his solid, charming brown eyes.
“Yeah, that one! And stupid name it is too,” her eyes were drawn back to the bundle she had in her lap, and her lips stretched further.
“She just doesn’t want to waste time thinking of fancy names for the machine. Don’t insult her like that,” another whump, and her entire family, her treasure, are all there with her - screaming abnormality. The one in her lap grinned, bright and innocent, and glanced at his eldest brother, yet to know the wrath of an angered sibling.
“You’re just afraid of her because she always asks you to test-run things for -”
“You’re saying that because you have no idea how scary things can be. Just you wait until she catches you one day,” the eldest snapped back, his dark, grayish hair - shoulder length during this age - swaying messily. He caught the eye of his second sibling for a moment, and both shuddered at shared memories. The youngest blinked, and looked between his elder brothers.
“That scary?” he breathed out. His brothers were his idols, and to see them truly fearful in the face of a woman who regularly let him play with pretty, colourful liquids in her lab…well…the other two boys just nodded, and shared another look - much, muuuch different from the one before.
The only female smiled again.
Oh. That look.
She, like the smart woman that she was, leapt out of the way before mischief befell her, although it meant the untimely demise of her youngest at the hands of her other sons. Sacrifices are in need! Of course, he didn’t even know what hit him until it was too late and she was standing by the side, supporting herself with the tree as she guffawed out loud.
“Haha-ue, traitor!” the child yelled, turning red at the high-pitched squeal that he let out, much to the hilarity of his older siblings.
“Hey, I’m the Maou - it’s your duty as soldier to protect me!” the mother grinned back.
“Maou my - WAARGH! WATCH WHERE YOU’RE GRABBING, KOO-NI-CHAN!”
“Ah, my apologies.”
Grabs.
All was well with Lady Cecile von Spitzberg, the reluctant 26th Maou of Shin Makoku, with her three beloved sons.
.
Wolfram von Bielefeld, at the tender age of 15 Mazoku years, had only four major loves. His mother, Gwendal, Konrad, and sword practice, and sword practice was directly related to Konrad, so in truth, Wolfram only had three major loves. Of course, that did not mean to say that he was unpopular with everyone else in Blood pledge Castle. In fact, he was the perfect child - hyperactive and jovial, always ready to laugh, ready to please. The most prominent trait in the boy, however - which also, unfortunately, was the child’s ultimate weapon in face of any situation - was his confidence. Little Wolfram was absolutely sure that he could charm the pants [and skirt, for that matter] off just about anyone and everyone who passes his way.
The kitchen ladies spoilt him to bits with his favourite cakes and cookies every time he visited them. The maids secretly coddled him with hugs which sent him squealing with absolutely pleasurable childish giggles. The gardeners, always grumpy and busy, found time to roll around in the castle gardens with the child, readily pointing out both relevant and irrelevant facts about the garden.
And they were not the only people to indulge in all his whims.
Anissina von Karbelnikoff, science-crazy and a feminist-in-the making at a young age itself, allowed him to treat her precious laboratory as one of his play-place. Of course, that wouldn’t make much sense…until you understand that not even the Maou was allowed entry into her place.
Lady Cecile called him ‘the ultimate heartbreaker’, and cuddled him every time she squealed it out.
Gwendal nicknamed him ‘cocky brat’, and frowned as was his default face.
Konrad…well, Konrad merely smiled and ruffled his hair with love, but Wolfram knew that Konrad secretly and fondly named him ‘silly baby brother’.
As insulting as it all sounded, it made little Wolfram feel loved and secure. He adored them, and knew that the feeling was mutual, even though they had the weirdest methods of showing it.
Knew that they only called him that because they loved him, because they cared, because they knew him well enough to give him such a sobriquet. They were his everything, and he loved them with all his little heart. Everything he did, he did it with them in his mind. Would haha-ue approve of him if he dressed this way? Would Gwendal smile at him more and not crease his forehead with wrinkles if he managed a bigger fireball? Would Konrad ruffle his hair if he managed this particular handhold during sword practice?
At the tender age of 15 Mazoku years, all was well for Wolfram von Bielefeld.
.
Konrad smiled apologetically to his teary-eyed little brother, and Gwendal sighed minutely. Wolfram’s fingers were fisted into tiny balls by his side, suppressing the rage that was building in him. Konrad himself was standing rigidly, ready to bolt if necessary. Konrad knew that Wolfram never did it intentionally; in fact, the child probably had never noticed it before, but during times of extreme emotion and stress, the boy would unconsciously emit sparks of fire from his very being.
It was only an explicit testament of how strong a fire Mazoku he was. But being a child, Wolfram didn’t care about such things.
What he was more concerned about was that his brothers would not be with him during this year’s New Year feast. Konrad bit his lip, silently irritated that Gwendal had manipulated him into breaking the news to Wolfram instead of doing it on his own as the eldest of the three.
Oh, but Wolfram listens to you.
Right.
“Wolfram, haha-ue would be there, so -”
“It’s not the same!” Wolfram fretted. He was determined to get both his elder brothers to see things his way. And once they do, Wolfram’s childish side knew that they would concede to his pleas. It was frustrating, though. Gwendal and Konrad had promised him this night, and to have to persuade them to keep their promises was…rather awkward.
Konrad and Gwendal exchanged tentative gazes and looked down at resentful green eyes. It was alight with Wolfram’s inborn fire, but they suspected that it could also be the tears that were beginning to drop silently down pale cheeks.
Gwendal knelt down in front of his youngest sibling, flipped his tied hair to the back, and pulled Wolfram against him. He raised a hand and wiped at the tears that dripped down continuously, and sighed again. Konrad grimaced. It’s not very obvious, but sometimes Gwendal can be rather exaggerated in his own ways. Sighing like the weight of the entire nation was on his shoulders was one.
Only none of them knew how true that would come to be one day in the future.
“Don’t cry over this, little Wolfram,” Gwendal grunted gently into the boy’s ears, and Wolfram felt the deep rumble in his eldest brother’s chest as he leaned back against him. It was comforting - it was like the rumbling of Earth promising safety - but it was not enough to make him happy. He sniffled and attempted to shove his face into Gwendal’s neck, looping his arms around the eldest brother.
Beside them, Konrad, too, knelt down and ruffled Wolfram’s golden crown as was wont his way when his youngest brother was in duress.
“You’re almost sixteen this year, little Wolfram. Surely you can go to this function without us?” he said softly, hoping to calm his brother down without resorting to obvious mollifying. Wolfram merely pushed his face deeper into Gwendal’s neck and ignored Konrad.
It wasn’t that he couldn’t go to the function by himself; he could! More than capable of conducting himself, in fact, but this function held is the Mazoku New Year party! What was the point of celebrating New Year when your loved ones are not around you? Wolfram was convinced that if it were any other parties, he wouldn’t have minded so much, but definitely not the New Year party.
And after what he had heard from the maids’ gossiping in the backyard…it had instilled a certain fear in him that could not be allayed until something be done about it.
Gwendal blinked at Konrad and tilted his head questioningly to the right, a silent question, wondering what they should do now.
It was really a case of unfortunate and wrong timing. Günter had suddenly approached them just slightly after afternoon and requested for their assistance in quelling a brawl in a nearby village. There was nothing that they can do but to agree. There was no need to get their mother involved; she was already busy enough with the amount of paperwork she was swamped with, and she had been most enthusiastic about this party too. Yet, the misunderstanding involved enough important people to warrant attention from members the Royal Family to settle it.
Konrad hesitated only a moment when he suddenly stood up and motioned with a gentle tilt of his head towards his room. While he didn’t exactly have an exact plan to comfort Wolfram, he did know that Wolfram liked to snuggle in Konrad’s blankets and pillow for warmth during distressing hours, such as thunderstorm nights. Perhaps it might help in this situation.
He seriously hoped it would; it was almost late evening already, they didn’t exactly have much time before they had to leave if they wanted to return by tomorrow morning.
.
Wolfram pressed his face deeper into the pillow. It smelled like Konrad - strong and protective and sandalwoody. He wanted to fall asleep after his brief show of tantrum. It had been a long day for him, and he had, indeed, been running around the castle, trying to help out with preparations of the festival.
Gwendal glanced out of the open window and noticed that the sun was going down the horizons. The three of them had already been in there for more than an hour already, much of the time spent trying to explain the situation to Wolfram. Below the open window, cheerful voices and sounds drifted up to create a soft, energetic background New Year music.
Konrad sat on the blond’s right, running his fingers gently through the golden hair glistening in the evening sunlight that poured in through the partially open windows, thinking particularly hard as he gazed at his little brother. Gwendal, on the other hand, took the foot of the bed, a hand on Wolfram’s covered knees, silent as a statue.
They really need to depart soon, or it wouldn’t be wrong to predict another oncoming argument that would require more than just the attendance of a couple of members from the Royal Family. Gwendal shifted a bit on the bed and Konrad turned to look at him, understanding it for what it is. Wolfram, however, only maintained his gaze on a faraway sight that only he was able to see. His arms curled around a pillow and tugged it tighter into his body, curling under the comfortable blanket his head was nestled against.
“Wolfram…”
Sharp green, accusing eyes swiveled Gwendal’s way.
“You promised we would go watch the stars tonight. By the river. And maybe even sail wishboats too,” the youngest said mournfully, voice a little muffled by the pillows and the blankets.
“Little Wolfram, we can always do that tomorrow night, can’t we?” Konrad countered, eyebrows clinched together in a momentary confusion. It wasn’t the first time he had said this during this particular evening, and if it had been any other person, his patience would have diminished. But Wolfram was special. With their little brother, both Gwendal and Konrad had enormous amount of tolerance.
When Wolfram only bit his lips tightly, Konrad decided that his hunch was correct - that something was, indeed, amiss. There was something more than just their promise of star-gazing. He had never known his little brother to be so difficult before. Sure, he demanded things sometimes, but was always ready to back down when he was given a rational explanation as to why things could not be done.
That, and Wolfram never remained silent unless he was afraid or worried about something but didn’t want to feel stupid by talking about it.
“Is there something you want to talk to us about?” Konrad went straight to the point as he pulled the blond child into a sitting position and into his arms. Gwendal looked surprised for a moment, and then nodded discretely, understanding Konrad’s hunch immediately.
Wolfram merely averted his eyes and snuggled deeper into the loose embrace.
“I know we promised you this night, but you know why we can’t exactly keep it, don’t you? There might be more trouble popping up in the future, and it’d make things even more difficult for haha-ue, and you know how difficult things are for her already. Come, tell us what you have in mind,” Gwendal coaxed, hoping that he would play his cards right.
Like the fire element he had a contract with, Wolfram’s temper can be doused with the right ingredient. In this case, their mother. The von Bielefeld clan’s everlasting loyalty to the Maou since Shinou’s time ran deep in Wolfram. Combined with a son’s genuine concern for his mother, it was a formidable enough force.
Green eyes dimmed. Wolfram fisted the front of Konrad’s uniform.
“I heard the maids saying something in the backyard this morning.”
Gwendal raised an eyebrow. Of all things…Wolfram’s problem was a gossip?! He was about to blow his top in exasperation when Konrad gave him The Eye.
Ah…best to obey the koo-ni-chan of the family.
“And? What did they say?” Konrad prompted. His other hand rubbed comforting circles around Wolfram’s small back.
“They said that… people tend to drift apart if their loved ones don’t spend New Years together,” and he forged on forcefully when he saw both his brothers open their mouth to deny it, “Look, I don’t want to believe in grapevine sources too, but I don’t wanna take any chances!
“I don’t wanna regret things when it’s all too late later! What if it’s true, and - and you both leave me behind - far, FAR BEHIND?!”
Always a child’s greatest fear - to be left behind.
“I know that one day I will have to stop being so dependant and stand on my own - to learn to not hang on so tight to the both of you! I know that you two have so much brilliance that you can show the world - you’re both smart and brave and so capable, and no one in this nation can ever - EVER top either of you, but - ”
“Hush, little Wolfram.”
Tears were dripping again, and Wolfram’s voice was so small that had the laughter floating in through the window were any louder, his next words would have been none.
“Please…don’t abandon me.”
.
Wolfram flashed his polite hundred-watt smile in the direction of a Mazoku noble who had taken notice of him and was waving gently at him. He had done his duty already: greeting and wishing all nobles a prosperous year ahead, kissing his Uncle Waltorana’s cheek, bowing to the Maou, his mother. There wasn’t anything else save to be pretty.
And it wasn’t something he enjoyed doing. He was bored.
If Gwendal and Konrad were here, they would have known that this was the time to create a small distraction for the young blond. They knew only too well to what extent Wolfram would go to to amuse himself when he was bored. They had firsthand experience, after all, and were pretty sure, too, that crawling spiders climbing up exposed skin still haunted the nightmares of several nobles. Heck, even Gwendal himself sometimes still woke up smelling roasted skirts and Anissina’s ringing laughter in his ears.
Perhaps Wolfram should just find his mother and ask to be excused. If he was allowed, then he’ll just grab another piece of his favourite taffy candy and go off to - LE GASP!
Taffy candy! Ani-ue and koo-ni-chan hadn’t eaten any!
The sight of a wide-eyed, horrified Wolfram frozen in a half-march caused more than a few apologetic smiles to go around the banquet hall. Cuteness all around! But the child didn’t need to know that. He was only thinking of taffy candies and his brothers.
Taffy candies were favourite New Year treats - a sort of sugary-minty-curious sweet treat that was dipped in batter and lightly fried. Absolutely difficult to make, literally non-existent except for during New Year (not even the royal kitchen was willing to set their backs to it despite Wolfram’s cajoling and wet puppy eyes), taffy candy was traditional food, and definitely a hit among the younger Mazokus.
It was a lingering soft spot shared by all three Royal siblings, despite the far cry of Gwendal’s and Konrad’s intolerance for all sweet things from Wolfram’s love for sugar, with a capital S. Then again, taffy candy isn’t as tooth-rotting as other sweets served throughout the year.
AHA! Wolfram unfroze himself and slowly swiveled to stare at the banquet table positioned at the far left side of the hall. It was generally empty now, only with the occasional servers refilling flutes of punch and champagne for requesting nobles.
Mission: Grab taffy candy for ani-ue and koo-ni-chan. Commencing…talk about relieving boredom, Wolfram-style.
The child broke into a brisk trot towards the banquet table, turning a corner to reach shorter tables as he ignored Günter’s curious blink.
The taffy candies were always placed at the head of the table. While most of the younger Mazokus, such as a certain blond soldier on a mission, saw it as treasure, older Mazokus regarded it as incentive to keep the troublesome younger ones flocked in one place instead of clambering all over the banquet table and stepping on toes, no matter if the victims deserved it or not.
The festivities hadn’t exactly gone into swing yet - these things usually took up to four or five hours, and they were only an hour into things, but the taffy candies were pretty much gone.
From afar, the brown blots in the crystal plate looked like they were the final four pieces left, Wolfram believed, more or less.
Grabbing the closest piece of napkin he could find, the young blond attempted to stomp over, but found himself bumping into a tall noble. He had to crane his head up to look at the irritating obstacle, and bowed with his hasty apologies. When he turned back to his target, to his horror, there were two young Mazoku males - younger than him, going by their height - in front of the bowl. Both were chewing on something and grinning at the same time, and Wolfram had a pretty good idea what they were eating.
Both were platinum-haired with streaks of violet down the side of their bangs - a dead giveaway that they were brothers, and both were reaching out for the final pieces of the taffy candies.
“S-stop!”
The two males swirled around at his panicked call, and before Wolfram himself was even aware, he was already sending out something bright and hot.
“No, STOP!” Wolfram yelled again, and this time in morbid surprise, it was directed at the bright thing thundering along its merry way towards two pairs of dark burgundy eyes. From the side, Wolfram could see how Anissina and Günter were rushing out in alarm, and he himself was tripping over his own feet to catch the thing he had accidentally let out.
And trip he did.
Right on the orange thing.
And then it exploded.
The entire hall went silent after a loud sound of collective gasps.
Wolfram dazedly lifted up a sooty head from where he was sprawled on the floor to receive his applause for bravery.
.
“You have NO-IDEA how amusing it was - ”
“Anissina, it’s not about amusement - ”
Wolfram stirred and tugged at the pillows he had been hugging. These voices were much too loud and noisy for his liking, despite the fact that it was muffled behind doors. Already he was feeling the urge to barbecue them, whoever they were, to keep the noise at a minimal level.
Sadly, Wolfram didn’t happen to have telepathic powers to transmit his potent desires.
“Thank you very much, Gisela. You tell her.”
“Aw…but Gisela, you saw it too! You must admit, to a certain extent - ”
“SHUT - UP.”
Ah. The Gwendal-Growl-of-Doom, patented.
The blond child wrinkled his brows in an imitation of said speaker. Ani-ue sounded pissed. Not good.
“I agree with my brother. Perhaps Anissina can keep vigil for a moment while Gisela tells us about Wolfram’s condition?”
Wolfram opened his eyes and had to blink a couple of times before recognising his own room. From the amount of sunlight coming in from the window, the young Mazoku presumed that late evening was about right. His room was filled to the brim with long shadows, and it made an interesting pattern that reminded him of shadow puppets.
“He’s fine. Just a minor bump and slight scorch here and there.”
Wolfram focused properly on the voices now that he was more awake.
“No, Gwendal - listen to me! He just lifted up his head from the floor, and - ”
Ani-ue! That must mean Konrad’s back too!
“Anissina!” This time it was Gisela’s reprimand in frustration.
“And - ” Anissina clamoured, not to be defeated, “the first thing he said was - ”
Wolfram’s bedroom door burst into fire.
His brothers didn’t need to know that he had failed to keep those treats for them.
.
The three of them stretched luxuriously on the midnight grass, glad that the breeze blowing through the night was a gentle, whispering one. It soothed and sang its ancient song, and Wolfram thought that the stars in the sky twinkled in chorus.
The young Mazoku grinned a little, pulling his muscles even more. There were no lights here - dark and mysterious, only full of his mother’s beloved wisha-wisha-ing trees in the distance - and the sky was a deep, melting pot of black tar with no moon and only sparkling stars.
He himself was sandwiched between Gwendal and Konrad - all three of them on a picnic cloth, with a small basket to the side. Their boots were left haphazardly on the soft grass, and Wolfram wriggled his toes in an unseen gesture.
“How’s your head, little Wolfram?” Konrad asked, lifting himself up on his elbows ad tilting his head to properly look at his little brother. Wolfram glanced back at him and smiled.
“Fine, fine. It’s nothing.”
Gwendal hmphed from his left.
Wolfram pouted, crossing his arms behind his head and getting comfortable. He could feel Gwendal staring at him. It was that sharp.
“Don’t look at me! Look at the stars!” he insisted after some time, getting rather uncomfortable with the burning sensation running down his neck. And then as an afterthought, “And I want to eat the taffy candies now.”
Gwendal smirked. Konrad laughed. Wolfram blushed.
It would seem that Wolfram had fought for naught. Apparently, the kitchen already taken things into their own hands, and had already saved up quite a bit of the treat for all three of them. But that didn’t mean that nothing came out of the scare Wolfram gave everyone during the New Year celebration.
“Taffy candies for a firecub, huh? Who would have guessed.”
“Show us a firecub, little Wolfram.”
Wolfram was pleased to oblige.
Disclaimer: Does not own.
Anime: Kyou Kara Maou
Title: New Year: A Brother's Fear
Genre: General/Comfort/Brotherhood
Warning: OOC-ness
Pairing: -nai!-
“Koo-ni-chan, you cheated!” As rare as it was, there was that laughter that blended annoyance and humour.
“I did not!” And there you go, the polite, mock defense put up, just for the sake of the situation.
“Stop squabbling, the both of you.” Of course, there’s no missing the resigned patience in the peace-settler.
The 26th Maou of Shin Makoku smiled fondly at the noise coming not too far away from her seat under the shade of the tree. It was not a normal day for her. No, really.
Warming sun, and leaping breezes, and pirouetting butterflies, and lilting flowery scent and gurgling brooks and wisha-wisha-ing trees, and childish, squabbling noises from her children - not normal. Normal was cursing old fools, tons of paperwork, the stinking smell of moulding library books, and stuffy, stuffy silence in her office, a prelude to a song of war-drum about to explode in the future. The Maou knew, from the time when she had inherited the throne, that her time would be a time of chaos.
Shinou had already informed her beforehand: should she accept the throne, these troubled times will be the mark of her reign. It’s not her time that makes it a time of war, really. Anyone, not just her, on the throne at this time would be facing a time of unease.
It just so happened that she was the one Shinou selected to play the role of war bringer.
It’s just simply necessary for the growth of the nation, and for preparation of the Golden Age of the 27th Maou.
So yes, who can blame her for liking abnormal more than normal? Leaning back against the trunk of the beech tree behind her, she tilted her head back and stared up at the canopy above. Stray strands of sunshine filtered through and dappled the picnic cloth. Taking a deep breath, she surveyed the royal garden, taking note that the gardeners seemed to have worked extra hard during the past month. There was no sight of any symptoms of the plant strain that had attacked the garden in just the previous month.
Instead, blue, purple, orange, yellow, pink, red, opal, lilac heads nodded respectfully at her in the brief blow of wind, unaware of past dangers.
“Haha-ue!”
And before she knew it, she was met with a lapful of vibrant yellow hair - exactly the same as her own - and mischievous green eyes - also so similar to hers, except that they were a lighter, more carefree shade of green; hers were darkened too much by involuntary decisions and forced determination - stared back up at her.
“Koo-ni-chan cheated, you know. He used that funny thing that Anissina -”
“Throw-pebbles-furthest-kun,” a deeper, more amiable voice interrupted, followed by a light whump by her side, and her second son was smiling at her, soothing her calm with his solid, charming brown eyes.
“Yeah, that one! And stupid name it is too,” her eyes were drawn back to the bundle she had in her lap, and her lips stretched further.
“She just doesn’t want to waste time thinking of fancy names for the machine. Don’t insult her like that,” another whump, and her entire family, her treasure, are all there with her - screaming abnormality. The one in her lap grinned, bright and innocent, and glanced at his eldest brother, yet to know the wrath of an angered sibling.
“You’re just afraid of her because she always asks you to test-run things for -”
“You’re saying that because you have no idea how scary things can be. Just you wait until she catches you one day,” the eldest snapped back, his dark, grayish hair - shoulder length during this age - swaying messily. He caught the eye of his second sibling for a moment, and both shuddered at shared memories. The youngest blinked, and looked between his elder brothers.
“That scary?” he breathed out. His brothers were his idols, and to see them truly fearful in the face of a woman who regularly let him play with pretty, colourful liquids in her lab…well…the other two boys just nodded, and shared another look - much, muuuch different from the one before.
The only female smiled again.
Oh. That look.
She, like the smart woman that she was, leapt out of the way before mischief befell her, although it meant the untimely demise of her youngest at the hands of her other sons. Sacrifices are in need! Of course, he didn’t even know what hit him until it was too late and she was standing by the side, supporting herself with the tree as she guffawed out loud.
“Haha-ue, traitor!” the child yelled, turning red at the high-pitched squeal that he let out, much to the hilarity of his older siblings.
“Hey, I’m the Maou - it’s your duty as soldier to protect me!” the mother grinned back.
“Maou my - WAARGH! WATCH WHERE YOU’RE GRABBING, KOO-NI-CHAN!”
“Ah, my apologies.”
Grabs.
All was well with Lady Cecile von Spitzberg, the reluctant 26th Maou of Shin Makoku, with her three beloved sons.
.
Wolfram von Bielefeld, at the tender age of 15 Mazoku years, had only four major loves. His mother, Gwendal, Konrad, and sword practice, and sword practice was directly related to Konrad, so in truth, Wolfram only had three major loves. Of course, that did not mean to say that he was unpopular with everyone else in Blood pledge Castle. In fact, he was the perfect child - hyperactive and jovial, always ready to laugh, ready to please. The most prominent trait in the boy, however - which also, unfortunately, was the child’s ultimate weapon in face of any situation - was his confidence. Little Wolfram was absolutely sure that he could charm the pants [and skirt, for that matter] off just about anyone and everyone who passes his way.
The kitchen ladies spoilt him to bits with his favourite cakes and cookies every time he visited them. The maids secretly coddled him with hugs which sent him squealing with absolutely pleasurable childish giggles. The gardeners, always grumpy and busy, found time to roll around in the castle gardens with the child, readily pointing out both relevant and irrelevant facts about the garden.
And they were not the only people to indulge in all his whims.
Anissina von Karbelnikoff, science-crazy and a feminist-in-the making at a young age itself, allowed him to treat her precious laboratory as one of his play-place. Of course, that wouldn’t make much sense…until you understand that not even the Maou was allowed entry into her place.
Lady Cecile called him ‘the ultimate heartbreaker’, and cuddled him every time she squealed it out.
Gwendal nicknamed him ‘cocky brat’, and frowned as was his default face.
Konrad…well, Konrad merely smiled and ruffled his hair with love, but Wolfram knew that Konrad secretly and fondly named him ‘silly baby brother’.
As insulting as it all sounded, it made little Wolfram feel loved and secure. He adored them, and knew that the feeling was mutual, even though they had the weirdest methods of showing it.
Knew that they only called him that because they loved him, because they cared, because they knew him well enough to give him such a sobriquet. They were his everything, and he loved them with all his little heart. Everything he did, he did it with them in his mind. Would haha-ue approve of him if he dressed this way? Would Gwendal smile at him more and not crease his forehead with wrinkles if he managed a bigger fireball? Would Konrad ruffle his hair if he managed this particular handhold during sword practice?
At the tender age of 15 Mazoku years, all was well for Wolfram von Bielefeld.
.
Konrad smiled apologetically to his teary-eyed little brother, and Gwendal sighed minutely. Wolfram’s fingers were fisted into tiny balls by his side, suppressing the rage that was building in him. Konrad himself was standing rigidly, ready to bolt if necessary. Konrad knew that Wolfram never did it intentionally; in fact, the child probably had never noticed it before, but during times of extreme emotion and stress, the boy would unconsciously emit sparks of fire from his very being.
It was only an explicit testament of how strong a fire Mazoku he was. But being a child, Wolfram didn’t care about such things.
What he was more concerned about was that his brothers would not be with him during this year’s New Year feast. Konrad bit his lip, silently irritated that Gwendal had manipulated him into breaking the news to Wolfram instead of doing it on his own as the eldest of the three.
Oh, but Wolfram listens to you.
Right.
“Wolfram, haha-ue would be there, so -”
“It’s not the same!” Wolfram fretted. He was determined to get both his elder brothers to see things his way. And once they do, Wolfram’s childish side knew that they would concede to his pleas. It was frustrating, though. Gwendal and Konrad had promised him this night, and to have to persuade them to keep their promises was…rather awkward.
Konrad and Gwendal exchanged tentative gazes and looked down at resentful green eyes. It was alight with Wolfram’s inborn fire, but they suspected that it could also be the tears that were beginning to drop silently down pale cheeks.
Gwendal knelt down in front of his youngest sibling, flipped his tied hair to the back, and pulled Wolfram against him. He raised a hand and wiped at the tears that dripped down continuously, and sighed again. Konrad grimaced. It’s not very obvious, but sometimes Gwendal can be rather exaggerated in his own ways. Sighing like the weight of the entire nation was on his shoulders was one.
Only none of them knew how true that would come to be one day in the future.
“Don’t cry over this, little Wolfram,” Gwendal grunted gently into the boy’s ears, and Wolfram felt the deep rumble in his eldest brother’s chest as he leaned back against him. It was comforting - it was like the rumbling of Earth promising safety - but it was not enough to make him happy. He sniffled and attempted to shove his face into Gwendal’s neck, looping his arms around the eldest brother.
Beside them, Konrad, too, knelt down and ruffled Wolfram’s golden crown as was wont his way when his youngest brother was in duress.
“You’re almost sixteen this year, little Wolfram. Surely you can go to this function without us?” he said softly, hoping to calm his brother down without resorting to obvious mollifying. Wolfram merely pushed his face deeper into Gwendal’s neck and ignored Konrad.
It wasn’t that he couldn’t go to the function by himself; he could! More than capable of conducting himself, in fact, but this function held is the Mazoku New Year party! What was the point of celebrating New Year when your loved ones are not around you? Wolfram was convinced that if it were any other parties, he wouldn’t have minded so much, but definitely not the New Year party.
And after what he had heard from the maids’ gossiping in the backyard…it had instilled a certain fear in him that could not be allayed until something be done about it.
Gwendal blinked at Konrad and tilted his head questioningly to the right, a silent question, wondering what they should do now.
It was really a case of unfortunate and wrong timing. Günter had suddenly approached them just slightly after afternoon and requested for their assistance in quelling a brawl in a nearby village. There was nothing that they can do but to agree. There was no need to get their mother involved; she was already busy enough with the amount of paperwork she was swamped with, and she had been most enthusiastic about this party too. Yet, the misunderstanding involved enough important people to warrant attention from members the Royal Family to settle it.
Konrad hesitated only a moment when he suddenly stood up and motioned with a gentle tilt of his head towards his room. While he didn’t exactly have an exact plan to comfort Wolfram, he did know that Wolfram liked to snuggle in Konrad’s blankets and pillow for warmth during distressing hours, such as thunderstorm nights. Perhaps it might help in this situation.
He seriously hoped it would; it was almost late evening already, they didn’t exactly have much time before they had to leave if they wanted to return by tomorrow morning.
.
Wolfram pressed his face deeper into the pillow. It smelled like Konrad - strong and protective and sandalwoody. He wanted to fall asleep after his brief show of tantrum. It had been a long day for him, and he had, indeed, been running around the castle, trying to help out with preparations of the festival.
Gwendal glanced out of the open window and noticed that the sun was going down the horizons. The three of them had already been in there for more than an hour already, much of the time spent trying to explain the situation to Wolfram. Below the open window, cheerful voices and sounds drifted up to create a soft, energetic background New Year music.
Konrad sat on the blond’s right, running his fingers gently through the golden hair glistening in the evening sunlight that poured in through the partially open windows, thinking particularly hard as he gazed at his little brother. Gwendal, on the other hand, took the foot of the bed, a hand on Wolfram’s covered knees, silent as a statue.
They really need to depart soon, or it wouldn’t be wrong to predict another oncoming argument that would require more than just the attendance of a couple of members from the Royal Family. Gwendal shifted a bit on the bed and Konrad turned to look at him, understanding it for what it is. Wolfram, however, only maintained his gaze on a faraway sight that only he was able to see. His arms curled around a pillow and tugged it tighter into his body, curling under the comfortable blanket his head was nestled against.
“Wolfram…”
Sharp green, accusing eyes swiveled Gwendal’s way.
“You promised we would go watch the stars tonight. By the river. And maybe even sail wishboats too,” the youngest said mournfully, voice a little muffled by the pillows and the blankets.
“Little Wolfram, we can always do that tomorrow night, can’t we?” Konrad countered, eyebrows clinched together in a momentary confusion. It wasn’t the first time he had said this during this particular evening, and if it had been any other person, his patience would have diminished. But Wolfram was special. With their little brother, both Gwendal and Konrad had enormous amount of tolerance.
When Wolfram only bit his lips tightly, Konrad decided that his hunch was correct - that something was, indeed, amiss. There was something more than just their promise of star-gazing. He had never known his little brother to be so difficult before. Sure, he demanded things sometimes, but was always ready to back down when he was given a rational explanation as to why things could not be done.
That, and Wolfram never remained silent unless he was afraid or worried about something but didn’t want to feel stupid by talking about it.
“Is there something you want to talk to us about?” Konrad went straight to the point as he pulled the blond child into a sitting position and into his arms. Gwendal looked surprised for a moment, and then nodded discretely, understanding Konrad’s hunch immediately.
Wolfram merely averted his eyes and snuggled deeper into the loose embrace.
“I know we promised you this night, but you know why we can’t exactly keep it, don’t you? There might be more trouble popping up in the future, and it’d make things even more difficult for haha-ue, and you know how difficult things are for her already. Come, tell us what you have in mind,” Gwendal coaxed, hoping that he would play his cards right.
Like the fire element he had a contract with, Wolfram’s temper can be doused with the right ingredient. In this case, their mother. The von Bielefeld clan’s everlasting loyalty to the Maou since Shinou’s time ran deep in Wolfram. Combined with a son’s genuine concern for his mother, it was a formidable enough force.
Green eyes dimmed. Wolfram fisted the front of Konrad’s uniform.
“I heard the maids saying something in the backyard this morning.”
Gwendal raised an eyebrow. Of all things…Wolfram’s problem was a gossip?! He was about to blow his top in exasperation when Konrad gave him The Eye.
Ah…best to obey the koo-ni-chan of the family.
“And? What did they say?” Konrad prompted. His other hand rubbed comforting circles around Wolfram’s small back.
“They said that… people tend to drift apart if their loved ones don’t spend New Years together,” and he forged on forcefully when he saw both his brothers open their mouth to deny it, “Look, I don’t want to believe in grapevine sources too, but I don’t wanna take any chances!
“I don’t wanna regret things when it’s all too late later! What if it’s true, and - and you both leave me behind - far, FAR BEHIND?!”
Always a child’s greatest fear - to be left behind.
“I know that one day I will have to stop being so dependant and stand on my own - to learn to not hang on so tight to the both of you! I know that you two have so much brilliance that you can show the world - you’re both smart and brave and so capable, and no one in this nation can ever - EVER top either of you, but - ”
“Hush, little Wolfram.”
Tears were dripping again, and Wolfram’s voice was so small that had the laughter floating in through the window were any louder, his next words would have been none.
“Please…don’t abandon me.”
.
Wolfram flashed his polite hundred-watt smile in the direction of a Mazoku noble who had taken notice of him and was waving gently at him. He had done his duty already: greeting and wishing all nobles a prosperous year ahead, kissing his Uncle Waltorana’s cheek, bowing to the Maou, his mother. There wasn’t anything else save to be pretty.
And it wasn’t something he enjoyed doing. He was bored.
If Gwendal and Konrad were here, they would have known that this was the time to create a small distraction for the young blond. They knew only too well to what extent Wolfram would go to to amuse himself when he was bored. They had firsthand experience, after all, and were pretty sure, too, that crawling spiders climbing up exposed skin still haunted the nightmares of several nobles. Heck, even Gwendal himself sometimes still woke up smelling roasted skirts and Anissina’s ringing laughter in his ears.
Perhaps Wolfram should just find his mother and ask to be excused. If he was allowed, then he’ll just grab another piece of his favourite taffy candy and go off to - LE GASP!
Taffy candy! Ani-ue and koo-ni-chan hadn’t eaten any!
The sight of a wide-eyed, horrified Wolfram frozen in a half-march caused more than a few apologetic smiles to go around the banquet hall. Cuteness all around! But the child didn’t need to know that. He was only thinking of taffy candies and his brothers.
Taffy candies were favourite New Year treats - a sort of sugary-minty-curious sweet treat that was dipped in batter and lightly fried. Absolutely difficult to make, literally non-existent except for during New Year (not even the royal kitchen was willing to set their backs to it despite Wolfram’s cajoling and wet puppy eyes), taffy candy was traditional food, and definitely a hit among the younger Mazokus.
It was a lingering soft spot shared by all three Royal siblings, despite the far cry of Gwendal’s and Konrad’s intolerance for all sweet things from Wolfram’s love for sugar, with a capital S. Then again, taffy candy isn’t as tooth-rotting as other sweets served throughout the year.
AHA! Wolfram unfroze himself and slowly swiveled to stare at the banquet table positioned at the far left side of the hall. It was generally empty now, only with the occasional servers refilling flutes of punch and champagne for requesting nobles.
Mission: Grab taffy candy for ani-ue and koo-ni-chan. Commencing…talk about relieving boredom, Wolfram-style.
The child broke into a brisk trot towards the banquet table, turning a corner to reach shorter tables as he ignored Günter’s curious blink.
The taffy candies were always placed at the head of the table. While most of the younger Mazokus, such as a certain blond soldier on a mission, saw it as treasure, older Mazokus regarded it as incentive to keep the troublesome younger ones flocked in one place instead of clambering all over the banquet table and stepping on toes, no matter if the victims deserved it or not.
The festivities hadn’t exactly gone into swing yet - these things usually took up to four or five hours, and they were only an hour into things, but the taffy candies were pretty much gone.
From afar, the brown blots in the crystal plate looked like they were the final four pieces left, Wolfram believed, more or less.
Grabbing the closest piece of napkin he could find, the young blond attempted to stomp over, but found himself bumping into a tall noble. He had to crane his head up to look at the irritating obstacle, and bowed with his hasty apologies. When he turned back to his target, to his horror, there were two young Mazoku males - younger than him, going by their height - in front of the bowl. Both were chewing on something and grinning at the same time, and Wolfram had a pretty good idea what they were eating.
Both were platinum-haired with streaks of violet down the side of their bangs - a dead giveaway that they were brothers, and both were reaching out for the final pieces of the taffy candies.
“S-stop!”
The two males swirled around at his panicked call, and before Wolfram himself was even aware, he was already sending out something bright and hot.
“No, STOP!” Wolfram yelled again, and this time in morbid surprise, it was directed at the bright thing thundering along its merry way towards two pairs of dark burgundy eyes. From the side, Wolfram could see how Anissina and Günter were rushing out in alarm, and he himself was tripping over his own feet to catch the thing he had accidentally let out.
And trip he did.
Right on the orange thing.
And then it exploded.
The entire hall went silent after a loud sound of collective gasps.
Wolfram dazedly lifted up a sooty head from where he was sprawled on the floor to receive his applause for bravery.
.
“You have NO-IDEA how amusing it was - ”
“Anissina, it’s not about amusement - ”
Wolfram stirred and tugged at the pillows he had been hugging. These voices were much too loud and noisy for his liking, despite the fact that it was muffled behind doors. Already he was feeling the urge to barbecue them, whoever they were, to keep the noise at a minimal level.
Sadly, Wolfram didn’t happen to have telepathic powers to transmit his potent desires.
“Thank you very much, Gisela. You tell her.”
“Aw…but Gisela, you saw it too! You must admit, to a certain extent - ”
“SHUT - UP.”
Ah. The Gwendal-Growl-of-Doom, patented.
The blond child wrinkled his brows in an imitation of said speaker. Ani-ue sounded pissed. Not good.
“I agree with my brother. Perhaps Anissina can keep vigil for a moment while Gisela tells us about Wolfram’s condition?”
Wolfram opened his eyes and had to blink a couple of times before recognising his own room. From the amount of sunlight coming in from the window, the young Mazoku presumed that late evening was about right. His room was filled to the brim with long shadows, and it made an interesting pattern that reminded him of shadow puppets.
“He’s fine. Just a minor bump and slight scorch here and there.”
Wolfram focused properly on the voices now that he was more awake.
“No, Gwendal - listen to me! He just lifted up his head from the floor, and - ”
Ani-ue! That must mean Konrad’s back too!
“Anissina!” This time it was Gisela’s reprimand in frustration.
“And - ” Anissina clamoured, not to be defeated, “the first thing he said was - ”
Wolfram’s bedroom door burst into fire.
His brothers didn’t need to know that he had failed to keep those treats for them.
.
The three of them stretched luxuriously on the midnight grass, glad that the breeze blowing through the night was a gentle, whispering one. It soothed and sang its ancient song, and Wolfram thought that the stars in the sky twinkled in chorus.
The young Mazoku grinned a little, pulling his muscles even more. There were no lights here - dark and mysterious, only full of his mother’s beloved wisha-wisha-ing trees in the distance - and the sky was a deep, melting pot of black tar with no moon and only sparkling stars.
He himself was sandwiched between Gwendal and Konrad - all three of them on a picnic cloth, with a small basket to the side. Their boots were left haphazardly on the soft grass, and Wolfram wriggled his toes in an unseen gesture.
“How’s your head, little Wolfram?” Konrad asked, lifting himself up on his elbows ad tilting his head to properly look at his little brother. Wolfram glanced back at him and smiled.
“Fine, fine. It’s nothing.”
Gwendal hmphed from his left.
Wolfram pouted, crossing his arms behind his head and getting comfortable. He could feel Gwendal staring at him. It was that sharp.
“Don’t look at me! Look at the stars!” he insisted after some time, getting rather uncomfortable with the burning sensation running down his neck. And then as an afterthought, “And I want to eat the taffy candies now.”
Gwendal smirked. Konrad laughed. Wolfram blushed.
It would seem that Wolfram had fought for naught. Apparently, the kitchen already taken things into their own hands, and had already saved up quite a bit of the treat for all three of them. But that didn’t mean that nothing came out of the scare Wolfram gave everyone during the New Year celebration.
“Taffy candies for a firecub, huh? Who would have guessed.”
“Show us a firecub, little Wolfram.”
Wolfram was pleased to oblige.