fanfiction posting
As promised, here’s the second part of the Chapter 7 preview that LJ refused to let me post yesterday. This doesn’t complete Chapter 7 - not by a longshot - but it’s a nice chunk of the beginning. And I have now officially lived up to my promise…
Terribly sorry for the multi-posting, but the data limits don’t accommodate those of us with long chapters, unfortunately. Enjoy!
Title: Of Age
Author: lenainverse
Rating: Hard R (lime and violence/dark scenes)
Pairing: Yuuri/Wolfram
Genre: Drama/Romance
Chapter: 7 (sneak preview, second part)
Summary: Demon Law states that on one’s sixteenth birthday, he has to decide what to do with his life. With Yuuri’s birthday just three weeks away, he finds himself filled with uncertainty about which world to call his home.
Comments: Spoilers through 65. X-posted at kyou_kara_maou and kkm_wolframfans.
Previous chapters are here: Chapters 1-6
First part of Chapter 7: Chapter 7 Preview - Part 1
Disclaimer: Please note that this story contains scenes with a Lime rating, as well darker materials that are not suitable for children - including strong allusions to sex, violence (rape and torture) and strong emotional turmoil. Please use discretion.
If you haven’t read the first part of Chapter 7…you might want to do that before you read this (follow the link above), or it won’t make much sense. Sorry to post this in such a confusing way, but blame LJ for their data limits. ^_^
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Yuri opened his eyes reluctantly, dimly aware that someone was calling his name. He lifted his head, blushing as he realized that he had fallen asleep against Murata’s shoulder.
“Finally!” Murata exclaimed, “I’ve been calling you for a while. You sleep like the dead.”
Yuri rubbed at his eyes, realizing that he felt remarkably rested. He was surprised that he had slept so soundly - his sleep had been dreamless and peaceful for the first time since Wolfram had been missing. “Yeah, that’s because you’re a great pillow, Murata,” he said, only half-kidding.
“My life’s ambition is fulfilled,” Murata replied dryly. “Now, lazy one, get down so we can help set up camp.” Yuri tried to dismount gracefully, but as usual, ended up falling to the ground in an undignified heap.
“Ow,” he complained as he stood up, thankful that he had landed on grass rather than dirt. It still hurt, regardless, but he supposed that he should be happy for small favors.
“You’re hopeless,” Murata declared as he swung his leg over the saddle and dismounted. He dropped neatly to his feet, much to Yuri’s irritation and embarrassment, and gave Yuri a wide smirk as he tied the horse’s reigns to a thick branch.
Yuri returned the expression, momentarily stunned at his own reaction. Not long ago, he’d been a complete mess: alternately angry and devastated, completely unable to get a grip on himself. And yet now, after a very short nap - on a horse of all things! - he found that he felt more like himself than he had in days. He didn’t feel good by any stretch of the imagination; the overpowering and urgent need to find his fiancé was still there, churning around in his gut. But it was as if the utter hopelessness that had settled into him for the last two days had suddenly vanished, and now he was just…determined.
He was going to get Wolfram back, no matter what. And moping about wasn’t going to help accomplish that. Why couldn’t he have realized that two days ago?
Yuri moved to help Murata remove the saddle packs, and noticed that Murata gave a wide yawn.
“Murata, you look exhausted,” Yuri observed as he took in his friend’s hunched posture and the bleary look in his eyes.
“I’m not…tired,” Murata said as he stifled another yawn. Yuri stared at Murata, his guilt rising as he realized just why his friend was sleep-deprived. Murata had been taking care of him, after all; making sure that Yuri ate and slept, trying to cheer him up. And Yuri had been too absorbed in his own problems to even notice.
In fact, Yuri thought, he’d been nothing but a thorn in everyone’s side for this entire trip. They were nice enough not to say so outright, but now that Yuri could think clearly, he could see that it was the truth. How could he have been so selfish? Sure, he was hurting because his fiancé was kidnapped, but Yuri wasn’t the only person who cared about Wolfram. Shame washed over him as he thought about how Gwendal and Conrad must be suffering - but yet, they had put their own feelings aside because of Yuri.
He was just not himself lately. And even before this whole mess, there were those other weird feelings…
Well, what was done was done. Now that Yuri was feeling a bit better, it was time to make it up to everyone by actually helping out instead of being a dead weight. Besides, the more he started helping, the quicker he could get Wolfram back where he belonged - and everyone else, too, for that matter.
But first… “Murata,” Yuri began as he fiddled with the straps of the saddle, “thanks for…you know, on the ship. I really feel better.”
Murata blinked at him, but then gave Yuri a tired version of his trademark grin. “No problem. We can’t afford to have the King starve to death, can we? Speaking of which, I’d better go help unload if we’re going to get anything to drink before bed. I’m parched.” With that, Murata loaded the saddle packs into his arms and strolled away.
Yuri wandered around the site and asked some of the soldiers if they needed any help, but each of them declined rather emphatically. He didn’t much blame them; they probably thought they’d be in the receiving end of either his tears or his temper, based on the last few days. Eventually, though, he found Conrad and Günter, who were in the middle of setting up a very large tent. They seemed pleasantly surprised at Yuri’s drastic change in demeanor, and they readily and happily accepted his help with the tent. Yuri wasn’t very much help, in reality, but it felt good to be finally doing something, even if what he was mostly doing was watching as the two older men set up.
“This is huge,” Yuri remarked as he watched Conrad hanging curtains from the ceiling. This “tent” had actual rooms on the inside, partitioned by the curtains, and Yuri saw Günter setting up a small dining table across the way. It reminded Yuri more of a small house than something used for camping. “What is this, some kind of portable barracks?”
Conrad smiled. “Of course not. The soldiers each have their own tent. This one is for you.”
“For me?” Yuri squawked. “I don’t need all this space - this is ten times bigger than my room back in Japan! It seems a waste to lug this thing around when I would be fine in a normal sized tent.”
“Don’t be silly, Your Majesty!” Günter said insistently as he walked over to them. “These are perfectly appropriate accommodations for royalty, such as yourself. This tent was specially designed to allow for Your Majesty to be adequately protected.”
“Protected?” Yuri asked, confused as to how sleeping in a bigger tent provided any sort of protection.
“Yes,” Conrad answered. “The extra rooms are to allow for guards to sleep close to the King and protect him in case of danger. And, although it may not appear so, the outer material is magical. It is very difficult to penetrate with mundane weapons. You and His Highness will be safe in here.” Yuri felt uneasy for a moment; while it was comforting that he wasn’t going to be killed in his sleep, he felt badly that the rest of the soldiers weren’t afforded the same consideration.
“We’re all done out here,” said a voice behind Yuri, and he turned to see Murata stepping through the large tent flap that served as a door, with Gwendal close behind him.
“The watch is set,” Gwendal reported in an official sounding voice. “I suggest that you get some sleep, You Majesty. We are departing at first light.”
Before Yuri could respond, a commotion was heard nearby. Conrad and Günter were immediately standing between Yuri and the door, swords drawn, and Gwendal shoved Murata over toward Yuri before drawing his own sword.
The flap opened, and a soldier poked his head into the tent, flinching when he was instantly faced with the tips of three swords.
“Y-your Excellency,” he said, swallowing nervously, “someone was discovered riding toward our encampment. The captive is requesting to speak with His Majesty immediately, regarding ‘the Demon held captive in Freie Stadt.’”
Yuri gasped. This person might have information about Wolfram! “Does he know where Wolfram is? Where can we find him?” Yuri blurted out. He started to step forward, meaning to go and see the captive right away, but Conrad threw an arm out, blocking Yuri’s path.
“Be cautious, Your Majesty,” Conrad advised, “this might well be an assassin who intends to lure you close by claiming to know something about Wolfram.”
Yuri huffed impatiently. He knew that Conrad was right, but the possibility that this person might know something about Wolfram made Yuri’s heart leap in his chest with a combination of hope and anxiety. “Well, we won’t know the truth until we ask, right? I want to see him. Now.” In Yuri’s book, it was well worth any potential risk if there was the possibility that he might have genuine information.
The soldier looked to Gwendal, obviously waiting for confirmation of Yuri’s order.
“Is he armed?” Gwendal asked, not lowering his sword.
The soldier shook his head. “No, there were no weapons of any kind found on the captive or the mount. In fact, the captive surrendered to us and has been quite cooperative.”
Gwendal sighed, his brow furrowing. “Very well, bring him here. But I want no less than three blades against his back.” Yuri breathed a sigh of relief as the soldier acknowledged the order and let the tent flap fall shut. He resisted the urge to pace restlessly as he waited, trying desperately not to let his hopes raise too high. After all, it was entirely possible that Conrad was right and this was all a ruse - and he couldn’t afford to lapse into a grief-stricken trance again because his hopes were dashed.
It seemed like forever before the flap opened again, and three soldiers escorted a cloaked figure into the tent, each soldier resting the tip of his sword against the captive. The gray cloak hung over his head, obscuring his face completely, but it was obvious that he wasn’t much older than Yuri by his height and slight build.
“Remove the hood,” Gwendal ordered, neither he nor any of the others daring to lower their guard in spite of the captive’s petite size.
One of the soldiers reached up and grasped the back of the hood, quickly jerking the material back and revealing the captive’s face. Before Yuri even had time to issue a shocked gasp at the fact that the captive was a woman, Gwendal already had his blade against her throat.
Yuri stared at the woman over Conrad’s shoulder, quickly realizing who she was. The red hair, blue eyes and fair skin gave her away immediately. This woman was Aldrich’s twin sister.
The Duchess did not seem alarmed in the slightest by the fact that there were no less than six blades pointed at her, ready to run her through at the smallest sign of a twitch. She met Yuri’s gaze evenly, her eyes filled with unmistakable resolve and fearlessness, but also another, deeper emotion that she was trying to hide. Just looking at her made Yuri feel ill for some reason he couldn’t quite identify - something beyond her uncanny resemblance to her brother.
A memory flashed in Yuri’s mind - the portrait of her mother, Queen Liese, that had been hanging in Aldrich’s castle. It had stricken Yuri, at the time, because the Queen was depicted as breathtakingly beautiful, yet devoid of any life. The contradiction had disturbed him greatly, being that he had always associated a person’s beauty with their spirit. The portrait showed Liese’s flawless features, so perfect that they looked as if they were carved from pure white marble…but there was a detached, impersonal feeling that seemed to emanate from the painting, giving it a most disturbing air.
Looking at Liese’s daughter before him, Yuri felt as if he were seeing that marble statue come alive. The physical aspects were nearly identical - although Alessandra’s features were more youthful, her lineage was more than apparent. Where Liese’s portrayal had been starkly clinical, though, her daughter was radiating with life…but not “life” as Yuri would have thought of it. Alessandra had the soul that her mother’s portrait had lacked, but Yuri felt the same empty feeling staring at her as he had when he saw the painting of the Queen.
“Search her,” Gwendal hissed, pushing his sword against the skin of her neck as the soldiers quickly divested Alessandra of her cloak. Beneath it, she was wearing what Yuri would consider little more than an undergarment, a white silk negligee that left her arms, shoulders, and much of her legs bare, the clingy material revealing every curve of her lithe figure. The garment was discolored in several places, and Yuri realized numbly that the stains were blood. He watched as the soldiers searched every inch of her, her body unresisting as the men roughly handled her, their hands running over the innumerable scars which marred her pale skin. Her face formed a grimace as the soldiers searched her for concealed weapons - searching places that Yuri didn’t even think it was possible to conceal a weapon.
Even as revolted as he was to see the wounds covering her, Yuri could not bring himself to look away. Various injuries covered everywhere that he could see, with the notable exception of her face. There were bruises, lacerations, burns, and other marks for which he could not discern a cause, all in various states of healing. Some were years old, some recent enough to still bleed freely.
“Stop!” Yuri cried, his eyes widening as the dark bloodstains spread further on the white silk, her wounds opening from the soldier’s actions. “You’re hurting her!”
“Your Majesty,” Conrad objected, “we can take no chances. This woman is…”
“I know who she is!” Yuri shouted. “But she’s unarmed, and there are six swords pointed at her. There’s no reason to hurt her, so stop it!”
Gwendal grunted but bade the soldiers to stop, his tone making clear that he was stopping not because of Yuri’s request, but because he was satisfied that Alessandra was unarmed. “Explain yourself quickly,” he growled at the Duchess and he continued to press his blade against her.
“Are you Yuri, the Demon King?” she asked, her eyes finding Yuri’s once again, seeming to ignore the blood that was seeping from several of her more recent injuries. She waited for Yuri’s nod of affirmation before continuing, “I have information about the Demon that my brother is holding. He is your lover, is he not?”
Yuri felt his face heat with a small blush, and silently reprimanded himself for being so stupid when there were much more important considerations at this moment. “Yes,” he said firmly, “he is my fiancé.”
Alessandra looked at Yuri for a moment, her gaze piercing, but in a much different way than her brother’s. Yuri got the distinct feeling that she was sizing him up, trying to determine whether she could trust him. It was a rather odd expression, coming from someone who was a breath away from being sliced in half.
“Have you seen Wolfram?” Yuri asked tightly, unable to hold the question back any longer. “Is he…all right?” He blinked hard, tears burning in his eyes as he anticipated her answer, the look on her face anything but encouraging.
“I have seen him,” she replied, her voice low and meaningful. Yuri tensed as he recognized that she had not said whether he was all right.
“Is your brother torturing him?” Gwendal spat in a dangerous tone, his grip on his sword tightening, the words implying that her very life depended upon her answer.
She looked directly at Yuri, her eyes still searching his for…something. “Yes.”
Yuri turned his head, unable to meet her gaze for another second, his eyes and throat burning as he was overcome with anguish at hearing his worst fears confirmed. All of those extreme feelings that had only recently subsided threatened to rise again, and Yuri tried desperately to hold them back. Two sides of himself fought violently within his mind, part of him wanting to fall over sobbing, part of him wanting to rush over and tear Alessandra to pieces…not caring that she was only the messenger, not the perpetrator. But Yuri felt a hand on his shoulder - it had to be Murata’s, because everyone else was still poised to attack the Duchess - and that helped him to keep control of himself.
“Why are you here?” Yuri heard Conrad ask her, his voice betraying a hint of pain, but also a significant amount of threat.
Yuri looked to Alessandra again, wondering if she would be pleased at seeing the suffering that was plain on his face. He was surprised to find that the only emotion on her face was sympathy.
“I have come to help you,” she said softly, speaking only to Yuri. “I wish to see your lover freed.”
This had to be a trap, Yuri’s logical mind told him. There was no way that Aldrich’s sister would betray her brother and her country in order to free a Demon. But as he looked into those sea-blue eyes, filled with candor and determination, he found himself believing every word.
Gwendal, however, was not convinced in the least. “You lie. You come to get close to our King so that your brother can kill him.”
She looked to Gwendal, staring past the blade at her throat to meet his stare evenly. “Then kill me. If you believe me to be a threat, kill me. I welcome it.” And then Gwendal tensed, his grip on the hilt of his sword tightening further as if he were about to push it into her flesh…
“No!” Yuri cried, trying to push past Conrad but getting nowhere. “Gwendal, don’t! I believe her.” Relief flooded Yuri as Gwendal stopped pushing forward, even though he did not pull back.
“Why would you want to help the Demon Tribe?” Gwendal asked, still obviously debating whether he was going to let her live. “I cannot easily be duped into thinking that you suddenly decided to betray your country in order to aid the Demon King in freeing his fiancé.”
“My country is nothing as it stands now,” she replied, her gaze lowering to the floor. “My brother has turned my homeland into a place where the people fear for their lives daily, where cruelty is praised as heroism. I would see him and his palace fall to rubble, if I had the power.”
“So you want us to help you remove him as the King?” Yuri wondered.
“No. I simply want to see your fiancé set free.”
“Why?” Conrad demanded, advancing on her by a few small steps. “Why would your risk yourself in order to help us? You know better than I that your brother will see you beheaded for this - if, in fact, you are being truthful.”
Again, she raised her eyes to meet Yuri’s and spoke, her voice steady but soft, and so filled with emotion that was painful to hear. “Because tonight, I feel life inside me again, even though it was lost to me long ago. Because I saw how deeply he loves you, and I see how deeply you love him. Because seeing the bond between you might be the only time in my life that I will ever witness love…and I refuse to see it broken. That is why.”
There was silence for a moment, her raw voice seeming to echo within the huge walls of the tent, as if no one dared to question her. Yuri looked at her, sadness overwhelming him as he took in the countless scars on her body and the agony in her eyes, and he reminded himself of what she had endured in her life. For her to still believe in love enough that she would be willing to sacrifice herself for its sake, in spite of everything that she had suffered…in spite of never having experienced it herself…
Yuri wanted it to be true. He didn’t know if that was because of Wolfram or something else, but he so badly wanted to believe that there could still be hope and goodness in someone who had suffered so much; someone who should, by all rights, have given up on life long ago. Perhaps it was foolish of him, but Yuri knew, deep in his heart, that he could never forgive himself if he tossed this woman aside. She said that she was coming to help Yuri, but Yuri could see that, whether she knew it herself or not, Alessandra had come seeking someone who would be willing to help her - either to help her live, or to help her die.
And Yuri would ensure that it was the former.
“But what about you?” Yuri asked quietly. “As Conrad said, Aldrich will not be happy to find that you have helped us. And your husband…”
“My husband…” she said stoically, “is nothing more than a man who forces me to share his bed. I was married to him against my will. Our union was a trade agreement between him and my brother, nothing more. And as for my brother…” she paused, her eyes one again filling with resolve. “As for him, it is high time that he was defied. Any retribution he seeks against me can be nothing worse than what he has already done. I will accept whatever consequences might come from my actions, but I have remained crippled and helpless for too long. I allowed myself to slip into a waking death, and the price was the suffering of my homeland. No longer can I afford to place my own pain above that of my people. Your fiancé showed me that. And I can think of no better way to redeem myself than by saving the very thing that my brother wishes to destroy.”
Another silence stretched for several seconds, and Yuri could almost feel some of the tension draining from the room. It seemed that, in spite of the mutual mistrust, everyone was at least beginning to realize that Alessandra was no skilled assassin. They still did not believe her completely, but Yuri would show that she meant no harm. The only way, as he saw it, to prove that she was no threat was to first place his trust in her.
“Lower your weapons,” Yuri instructed, quietly but firmly, “she won’t hurt me.” To his surprise, Gwendal actually backed away from Alessandra a bit, but remained close enough that he would have no trouble stopping her before anything happened. The three soldiers surrounding her did the same. She dropped to the floor, into a posture somewhere between bowing and begging. Yuri began to move towards her, forcibly pushing past Conrad and Günter, who did not object, but positioned themselves on either side of Yuri, their swords still at the ready.
Yuri knelt down in front of Alessandra, careful to remain out of arm’s reach. Even though he trusted that she meant him no harm, Yuri knew that his guardians would not allow him to get any closer.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly, “for everything that you have been through.”
Alessandra did not look up at him, the heavy drape of her long red hair concealing her face. “I…there is no need, Your Majesty,” she replied, her voice unsteady and broken for the first time since she had been brought before him. Yuri was a bit taken aback that a woman who could face down six armed soldiers with such confidence could be so rattled by someone speaking to her with kindness.
Yuri smiled, even though she could not see it. “There is a need. You did not deserve what has happened to you. And I promise you that I will help you in whatever ways I can. You never have to go back there again if you do not wish it.”
Alessandra seemed to shrivel before his eyes - this same woman who had seemed immeasurably strong a moment ago. “I am not worthy of such generosity,” she whispered.
“Of course you are,” Yuri told her gently. “Your life is your own. I am simply offering my protection so that you can begin to live it on your own terms.”
She raised her head and looked at Yuri tentatively, as if afraid to grasp onto the hope that he was offering. Then, she shifted her posture abruptly to sit primly on her folded knees, and she gave a deep, graceful bow, lowering her head in a submissive, almost seductive pose, like a courtesan ingratiating herself to her Master. “I am in your debt, Your Majesty…even if that is a promise that I believe you can not keep. Please, allow me to be of service to your men, as a gesture of good faith.”
Yuri stared for a moment, confused both by the sudden change in demeanor and her words. “Service? What are you talking about? I don’t think we need any supplies or anything…”
“Your Majesty,” interrupted Conrad, as he leaned down toward Yuri and spoke quietly to him, “she is offering her body to you and your soldiers.”
“What? No!” Yuri protested in shock. “I told you, your life is yours. You don’t ever have to be with anyone unless you want to.”
Alessandra tensed slightly, and she remained in her bowed posture, staring at the floor, unconcerned with the blood that still dripped from her wounds. “But I have no other way to repay you, Your Majesty. It would be an honor for me.”
Yuri stared at her incredulously, thinking that he had never seen anything so sad in all his life. “Why?” he asked softly, “Why would you want to hurt yourself like that?”
“If you are concerned about hurting me, you needn’t be. This is my own will.” There was a fleeting pause, and when she continued, her tone was one of desperate pleading. “Please, you must let me repay you. This is all I have to offer. Please.”
“Your body is not a payment!” Yuri cried. He saw her flinch at that, and wondered if he was actually hurting her worse by refusing, as crazy as that sounded to him.
“I understand, Your Majesty.” Alessandra’s head was still lowered, but her bow was now closer to a position of defeat than anything else. “You do not want me because you see that I am ruined.”
Yuri stared again, feeling completely helpless in the face of what he considered to be warped logic on Alessandra’s part. He realized with a sinking feeling that helping her would not be as simple as he had thought. She was viewing the world through a thick veil of hate and fear and confusion, and it would take both time and persistence to change that…if he ever could.
Yuri knew then that despite his want to comfort and console this injured woman, she could not hear the intent behind his words right now. All that he would accomplish by continuing to attempt this conversation would be confusing and hurting her further. Besides, it was quite late now, and everyone needed to get some sleep if they were going to depart at sunrise.
He raised his head to Conrad and Günter, who were both looking at their guest with a strange mixture of pity and wariness, but Yuri noticed that they had lowered their weapons. Gwendal seemed more skeptical than anything else, but no longer looked angry, which Yuri supposed could be considered a bit of progress. Strangely, Murata had not said anything at all…Yuri wondered briefly whether that was an indication of confidence or whether his friend was simply too tired to participate.
Whatever else they felt, everyone seemed to be waiting for Yuri to make a decision. So he made one.
“Please escort the Duchess somewhere that she can rest and clean up, and give her a change of clothes,” he said, rising to his feet and giving Gwendal a pointed look. “Guard her if you must, but she is not a prisoner. She is my guest, and should be treated as such.” Gwendal glowered at Yuri, but did not issue any objection.
Alessandra did not look up from her hunched bow. “Your Majesty? What of my request to repay you?”
Yuri thought for a moment, knowing that she was not going to let him dismiss the idea. “Very well, there is something that I would ask of you. It will not be easy, but it is the only thing that I will accept. You are not ruined, Alessandra Silke. And you can repay me by, one day, believing that.”
Alessandra slowly raised her head to look at Yuri, her eyes filled with disbelief and panic - as if she knew that she could never fulfill that request. She looked as if she was going to protest, but before she could find the words, Conrad had sheathed his sword and walked over, offering her his hand.
“I will show you to a sleeping quarters, Duchess,” he said, giving her the smile that Yuri knew so well. “I am afraid we did not expect company, but I’m certain that we can find something appropriate.”
She hesitantly reached out and took Conrad’s hand, and he slowly helped her to her feet, the shocked expression still on her face. Then, he reached for the cloak that one of the soldiers still held, and laid it across Alessandra’s shoulders, covering her. He gently turned her around and began to show her out of the tent, being as passive as possible while still giving her little choice in the matter. She turned and glanced over her shoulder at Yuri, giving him one last timid look before she and Conrad disappeared out into the night, the three soldiers following close behind.
It took several minutes for Conrad to return, during which time Yuri realized that Gwendal was shooting him a withering stare.
“What?” Yuri asked casually, even though he was fully aware of the reason behind that look.
“I was simply wondering if there would ever come a time when you might listen to reason instead of being so blindly impulsive. You well know that trusting that woman might lead to even more problems than we have already…Your Majesty.”
“And you well know,” Yuri began evenly, “that I could not refuse to help someone so obviously in need of it.” Everyone else stared silently as Gwendal continued to glare at Yuri, probably wondering whether exhaustion and stress would make him lose his temper.
Much to Yuri’s surprise, Gwendal’s expression changed, and he appeared suddenly weary. “Your Majesty, we have all followed you into danger countless times, even when we believed that you were risking your life recklessly, and this expedition is no exception. You seem intent upon placing yourself at risk; perhaps out of a sense of duty, perhaps out of guilt. But know this: you are our King. As such, your life is no longer yours to risk in such a haphazard manner. Trusting the wrong person could lead to fatal, irreversible consequences for the Kingdom. You must begin to consider what impact your actions will have not only on yourself, but also on your people.”
Günter inhaled sharply beside Yuri, shocked at what Gwendal had said - Gwendal had questioned Yuri’s decisions before, but he had never accused him of being…selfish. Yuri met Gwendal’s eyes for a moment, considering the points he had made. In a way, Gwendal was right; but Yuri knew that he was also looking at things from only one perspective.
“I understand your frustration,” Yuri said, speaking to everyone rather than just to Gwendal, “and I apologize if it seems as if I’m risking my life for my own selfish reasons. But to sit, safe and sound in the Castle while I send others to risk their lives for me - under my orders - is that the kind of King that you wish me to be? Because, if I am not mistaken, that is exactly what Stoffel did to you all of you.”
There was a fleeting but heavy silence before Gwendal replied. “That,” he said gravely, “was a different situation entirely. You should not speak so freely about things which you have no knowledge of.”
“I don’t mean to make light of what happened in the past,” Yuri soothed, apologetically but not regretfully. “I’m only saying that, if I were the type of person who could leave my fiancé to be…” he swallowed, barely able to say the words, “to be tortured and killed without fighting for him, I doubt that the people would place much value on my life, nor should they.”
Yuri looked around, meeting the eyes of each person briefly before turning to Gwendal again. “I value your help and guidance, all of you, so much that it is impossible to describe. But I am who I am, and that is all that I can be.” Yuri paused, but then realized that this discussion could very well go on for hours, and right now he needed to focus on getting Wolfram back. Everything else could wait until after that.
“Look,” he said hurriedly, before anyone else could cut in, “right now is not the time to go back and forth about what makes a good King. I just want Wolfram back, and I am trusting Alessandra to help me to do that. After it’s done, we can debate this all you like. But right now, I just want to go to sleep. Okay?”
Conrad looked disconcerted for a second, but quickly recovered. “I think that is a wise idea,” he said with a glance at his older brother. Gwendal was still for a moment, but then muttered a reluctant agreement and walked away, pushing the tent flap out of his way as he exited.
“We’ll be right outside if you need us, Your Majesty,” Günter said to Yuri, his eyes shimmering with what might have been tears. Then he wished Yuri good night before turning to leave, as well.
Conrad and Murata seemed to exchange a private look before both wishing Yuri good night and walking into the curtained areas that were to be their “rooms” for the night. Yuri went to his own sleeping area, finding the prepared cot that would be his temporary bed. As he lay down, he tried to ignore the part of his mind that was considering whether Gwendal might have a point about risking his life needlessly. He could not afford to second-guess himself now…Wolfram was depending on him.
‘Hold on, Wolf,’ Yuri thought pleadingly as he closed his eyes. ‘Please hold on, I’m coming…’
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Brief Authors Note: Thanks for your patience as I finish the chapter. It will be out as soon as I (and my beta) deem it to be good enough for public viewing. Please let me know your opinion of posting “previews” like this. This was intended to be a one-time thing to live up to my end of a bargain, but if enough people like the idea of getting more story sooner, I suppose I can oblige. ^_^ I’d like to say the next part will be out by August 14 or so, but let’s just be flexible with the timeframe, shall we? I promise to try and get it out soon.
Reviews and constructive criticism are always appreciated…the more feedback I get, the more motivated I am to write. So, yes, I am begging. ^_^ Review please!
Also, if anyone’s going to Otakon…have a great time! I know I will…~_^
Endless praise to Triskell for being a great beta!
Please review…
Terribly sorry for the multi-posting, but the data limits don’t accommodate those of us with long chapters, unfortunately. Enjoy!
Title: Of Age
Author: lenainverse
Rating: Hard R (lime and violence/dark scenes)
Pairing: Yuuri/Wolfram
Genre: Drama/Romance
Chapter: 7 (sneak preview, second part)
Summary: Demon Law states that on one’s sixteenth birthday, he has to decide what to do with his life. With Yuuri’s birthday just three weeks away, he finds himself filled with uncertainty about which world to call his home.
Comments: Spoilers through 65. X-posted at kyou_kara_maou and kkm_wolframfans.
Previous chapters are here: Chapters 1-6
First part of Chapter 7: Chapter 7 Preview - Part 1
Disclaimer: Please note that this story contains scenes with a Lime rating, as well darker materials that are not suitable for children - including strong allusions to sex, violence (rape and torture) and strong emotional turmoil. Please use discretion.
If you haven’t read the first part of Chapter 7…you might want to do that before you read this (follow the link above), or it won’t make much sense. Sorry to post this in such a confusing way, but blame LJ for their data limits. ^_^
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Yuri opened his eyes reluctantly, dimly aware that someone was calling his name. He lifted his head, blushing as he realized that he had fallen asleep against Murata’s shoulder.
“Finally!” Murata exclaimed, “I’ve been calling you for a while. You sleep like the dead.”
Yuri rubbed at his eyes, realizing that he felt remarkably rested. He was surprised that he had slept so soundly - his sleep had been dreamless and peaceful for the first time since Wolfram had been missing. “Yeah, that’s because you’re a great pillow, Murata,” he said, only half-kidding.
“My life’s ambition is fulfilled,” Murata replied dryly. “Now, lazy one, get down so we can help set up camp.” Yuri tried to dismount gracefully, but as usual, ended up falling to the ground in an undignified heap.
“Ow,” he complained as he stood up, thankful that he had landed on grass rather than dirt. It still hurt, regardless, but he supposed that he should be happy for small favors.
“You’re hopeless,” Murata declared as he swung his leg over the saddle and dismounted. He dropped neatly to his feet, much to Yuri’s irritation and embarrassment, and gave Yuri a wide smirk as he tied the horse’s reigns to a thick branch.
Yuri returned the expression, momentarily stunned at his own reaction. Not long ago, he’d been a complete mess: alternately angry and devastated, completely unable to get a grip on himself. And yet now, after a very short nap - on a horse of all things! - he found that he felt more like himself than he had in days. He didn’t feel good by any stretch of the imagination; the overpowering and urgent need to find his fiancé was still there, churning around in his gut. But it was as if the utter hopelessness that had settled into him for the last two days had suddenly vanished, and now he was just…determined.
He was going to get Wolfram back, no matter what. And moping about wasn’t going to help accomplish that. Why couldn’t he have realized that two days ago?
Yuri moved to help Murata remove the saddle packs, and noticed that Murata gave a wide yawn.
“Murata, you look exhausted,” Yuri observed as he took in his friend’s hunched posture and the bleary look in his eyes.
“I’m not…tired,” Murata said as he stifled another yawn. Yuri stared at Murata, his guilt rising as he realized just why his friend was sleep-deprived. Murata had been taking care of him, after all; making sure that Yuri ate and slept, trying to cheer him up. And Yuri had been too absorbed in his own problems to even notice.
In fact, Yuri thought, he’d been nothing but a thorn in everyone’s side for this entire trip. They were nice enough not to say so outright, but now that Yuri could think clearly, he could see that it was the truth. How could he have been so selfish? Sure, he was hurting because his fiancé was kidnapped, but Yuri wasn’t the only person who cared about Wolfram. Shame washed over him as he thought about how Gwendal and Conrad must be suffering - but yet, they had put their own feelings aside because of Yuri.
He was just not himself lately. And even before this whole mess, there were those other weird feelings…
Well, what was done was done. Now that Yuri was feeling a bit better, it was time to make it up to everyone by actually helping out instead of being a dead weight. Besides, the more he started helping, the quicker he could get Wolfram back where he belonged - and everyone else, too, for that matter.
But first… “Murata,” Yuri began as he fiddled with the straps of the saddle, “thanks for…you know, on the ship. I really feel better.”
Murata blinked at him, but then gave Yuri a tired version of his trademark grin. “No problem. We can’t afford to have the King starve to death, can we? Speaking of which, I’d better go help unload if we’re going to get anything to drink before bed. I’m parched.” With that, Murata loaded the saddle packs into his arms and strolled away.
Yuri wandered around the site and asked some of the soldiers if they needed any help, but each of them declined rather emphatically. He didn’t much blame them; they probably thought they’d be in the receiving end of either his tears or his temper, based on the last few days. Eventually, though, he found Conrad and Günter, who were in the middle of setting up a very large tent. They seemed pleasantly surprised at Yuri’s drastic change in demeanor, and they readily and happily accepted his help with the tent. Yuri wasn’t very much help, in reality, but it felt good to be finally doing something, even if what he was mostly doing was watching as the two older men set up.
“This is huge,” Yuri remarked as he watched Conrad hanging curtains from the ceiling. This “tent” had actual rooms on the inside, partitioned by the curtains, and Yuri saw Günter setting up a small dining table across the way. It reminded Yuri more of a small house than something used for camping. “What is this, some kind of portable barracks?”
Conrad smiled. “Of course not. The soldiers each have their own tent. This one is for you.”
“For me?” Yuri squawked. “I don’t need all this space - this is ten times bigger than my room back in Japan! It seems a waste to lug this thing around when I would be fine in a normal sized tent.”
“Don’t be silly, Your Majesty!” Günter said insistently as he walked over to them. “These are perfectly appropriate accommodations for royalty, such as yourself. This tent was specially designed to allow for Your Majesty to be adequately protected.”
“Protected?” Yuri asked, confused as to how sleeping in a bigger tent provided any sort of protection.
“Yes,” Conrad answered. “The extra rooms are to allow for guards to sleep close to the King and protect him in case of danger. And, although it may not appear so, the outer material is magical. It is very difficult to penetrate with mundane weapons. You and His Highness will be safe in here.” Yuri felt uneasy for a moment; while it was comforting that he wasn’t going to be killed in his sleep, he felt badly that the rest of the soldiers weren’t afforded the same consideration.
“We’re all done out here,” said a voice behind Yuri, and he turned to see Murata stepping through the large tent flap that served as a door, with Gwendal close behind him.
“The watch is set,” Gwendal reported in an official sounding voice. “I suggest that you get some sleep, You Majesty. We are departing at first light.”
Before Yuri could respond, a commotion was heard nearby. Conrad and Günter were immediately standing between Yuri and the door, swords drawn, and Gwendal shoved Murata over toward Yuri before drawing his own sword.
The flap opened, and a soldier poked his head into the tent, flinching when he was instantly faced with the tips of three swords.
“Y-your Excellency,” he said, swallowing nervously, “someone was discovered riding toward our encampment. The captive is requesting to speak with His Majesty immediately, regarding ‘the Demon held captive in Freie Stadt.’”
Yuri gasped. This person might have information about Wolfram! “Does he know where Wolfram is? Where can we find him?” Yuri blurted out. He started to step forward, meaning to go and see the captive right away, but Conrad threw an arm out, blocking Yuri’s path.
“Be cautious, Your Majesty,” Conrad advised, “this might well be an assassin who intends to lure you close by claiming to know something about Wolfram.”
Yuri huffed impatiently. He knew that Conrad was right, but the possibility that this person might know something about Wolfram made Yuri’s heart leap in his chest with a combination of hope and anxiety. “Well, we won’t know the truth until we ask, right? I want to see him. Now.” In Yuri’s book, it was well worth any potential risk if there was the possibility that he might have genuine information.
The soldier looked to Gwendal, obviously waiting for confirmation of Yuri’s order.
“Is he armed?” Gwendal asked, not lowering his sword.
The soldier shook his head. “No, there were no weapons of any kind found on the captive or the mount. In fact, the captive surrendered to us and has been quite cooperative.”
Gwendal sighed, his brow furrowing. “Very well, bring him here. But I want no less than three blades against his back.” Yuri breathed a sigh of relief as the soldier acknowledged the order and let the tent flap fall shut. He resisted the urge to pace restlessly as he waited, trying desperately not to let his hopes raise too high. After all, it was entirely possible that Conrad was right and this was all a ruse - and he couldn’t afford to lapse into a grief-stricken trance again because his hopes were dashed.
It seemed like forever before the flap opened again, and three soldiers escorted a cloaked figure into the tent, each soldier resting the tip of his sword against the captive. The gray cloak hung over his head, obscuring his face completely, but it was obvious that he wasn’t much older than Yuri by his height and slight build.
“Remove the hood,” Gwendal ordered, neither he nor any of the others daring to lower their guard in spite of the captive’s petite size.
One of the soldiers reached up and grasped the back of the hood, quickly jerking the material back and revealing the captive’s face. Before Yuri even had time to issue a shocked gasp at the fact that the captive was a woman, Gwendal already had his blade against her throat.
Yuri stared at the woman over Conrad’s shoulder, quickly realizing who she was. The red hair, blue eyes and fair skin gave her away immediately. This woman was Aldrich’s twin sister.
The Duchess did not seem alarmed in the slightest by the fact that there were no less than six blades pointed at her, ready to run her through at the smallest sign of a twitch. She met Yuri’s gaze evenly, her eyes filled with unmistakable resolve and fearlessness, but also another, deeper emotion that she was trying to hide. Just looking at her made Yuri feel ill for some reason he couldn’t quite identify - something beyond her uncanny resemblance to her brother.
A memory flashed in Yuri’s mind - the portrait of her mother, Queen Liese, that had been hanging in Aldrich’s castle. It had stricken Yuri, at the time, because the Queen was depicted as breathtakingly beautiful, yet devoid of any life. The contradiction had disturbed him greatly, being that he had always associated a person’s beauty with their spirit. The portrait showed Liese’s flawless features, so perfect that they looked as if they were carved from pure white marble…but there was a detached, impersonal feeling that seemed to emanate from the painting, giving it a most disturbing air.
Looking at Liese’s daughter before him, Yuri felt as if he were seeing that marble statue come alive. The physical aspects were nearly identical - although Alessandra’s features were more youthful, her lineage was more than apparent. Where Liese’s portrayal had been starkly clinical, though, her daughter was radiating with life…but not “life” as Yuri would have thought of it. Alessandra had the soul that her mother’s portrait had lacked, but Yuri felt the same empty feeling staring at her as he had when he saw the painting of the Queen.
“Search her,” Gwendal hissed, pushing his sword against the skin of her neck as the soldiers quickly divested Alessandra of her cloak. Beneath it, she was wearing what Yuri would consider little more than an undergarment, a white silk negligee that left her arms, shoulders, and much of her legs bare, the clingy material revealing every curve of her lithe figure. The garment was discolored in several places, and Yuri realized numbly that the stains were blood. He watched as the soldiers searched every inch of her, her body unresisting as the men roughly handled her, their hands running over the innumerable scars which marred her pale skin. Her face formed a grimace as the soldiers searched her for concealed weapons - searching places that Yuri didn’t even think it was possible to conceal a weapon.
Even as revolted as he was to see the wounds covering her, Yuri could not bring himself to look away. Various injuries covered everywhere that he could see, with the notable exception of her face. There were bruises, lacerations, burns, and other marks for which he could not discern a cause, all in various states of healing. Some were years old, some recent enough to still bleed freely.
“Stop!” Yuri cried, his eyes widening as the dark bloodstains spread further on the white silk, her wounds opening from the soldier’s actions. “You’re hurting her!”
“Your Majesty,” Conrad objected, “we can take no chances. This woman is…”
“I know who she is!” Yuri shouted. “But she’s unarmed, and there are six swords pointed at her. There’s no reason to hurt her, so stop it!”
Gwendal grunted but bade the soldiers to stop, his tone making clear that he was stopping not because of Yuri’s request, but because he was satisfied that Alessandra was unarmed. “Explain yourself quickly,” he growled at the Duchess and he continued to press his blade against her.
“Are you Yuri, the Demon King?” she asked, her eyes finding Yuri’s once again, seeming to ignore the blood that was seeping from several of her more recent injuries. She waited for Yuri’s nod of affirmation before continuing, “I have information about the Demon that my brother is holding. He is your lover, is he not?”
Yuri felt his face heat with a small blush, and silently reprimanded himself for being so stupid when there were much more important considerations at this moment. “Yes,” he said firmly, “he is my fiancé.”
Alessandra looked at Yuri for a moment, her gaze piercing, but in a much different way than her brother’s. Yuri got the distinct feeling that she was sizing him up, trying to determine whether she could trust him. It was a rather odd expression, coming from someone who was a breath away from being sliced in half.
“Have you seen Wolfram?” Yuri asked tightly, unable to hold the question back any longer. “Is he…all right?” He blinked hard, tears burning in his eyes as he anticipated her answer, the look on her face anything but encouraging.
“I have seen him,” she replied, her voice low and meaningful. Yuri tensed as he recognized that she had not said whether he was all right.
“Is your brother torturing him?” Gwendal spat in a dangerous tone, his grip on his sword tightening, the words implying that her very life depended upon her answer.
She looked directly at Yuri, her eyes still searching his for…something. “Yes.”
Yuri turned his head, unable to meet her gaze for another second, his eyes and throat burning as he was overcome with anguish at hearing his worst fears confirmed. All of those extreme feelings that had only recently subsided threatened to rise again, and Yuri tried desperately to hold them back. Two sides of himself fought violently within his mind, part of him wanting to fall over sobbing, part of him wanting to rush over and tear Alessandra to pieces…not caring that she was only the messenger, not the perpetrator. But Yuri felt a hand on his shoulder - it had to be Murata’s, because everyone else was still poised to attack the Duchess - and that helped him to keep control of himself.
“Why are you here?” Yuri heard Conrad ask her, his voice betraying a hint of pain, but also a significant amount of threat.
Yuri looked to Alessandra again, wondering if she would be pleased at seeing the suffering that was plain on his face. He was surprised to find that the only emotion on her face was sympathy.
“I have come to help you,” she said softly, speaking only to Yuri. “I wish to see your lover freed.”
This had to be a trap, Yuri’s logical mind told him. There was no way that Aldrich’s sister would betray her brother and her country in order to free a Demon. But as he looked into those sea-blue eyes, filled with candor and determination, he found himself believing every word.
Gwendal, however, was not convinced in the least. “You lie. You come to get close to our King so that your brother can kill him.”
She looked to Gwendal, staring past the blade at her throat to meet his stare evenly. “Then kill me. If you believe me to be a threat, kill me. I welcome it.” And then Gwendal tensed, his grip on the hilt of his sword tightening further as if he were about to push it into her flesh…
“No!” Yuri cried, trying to push past Conrad but getting nowhere. “Gwendal, don’t! I believe her.” Relief flooded Yuri as Gwendal stopped pushing forward, even though he did not pull back.
“Why would you want to help the Demon Tribe?” Gwendal asked, still obviously debating whether he was going to let her live. “I cannot easily be duped into thinking that you suddenly decided to betray your country in order to aid the Demon King in freeing his fiancé.”
“My country is nothing as it stands now,” she replied, her gaze lowering to the floor. “My brother has turned my homeland into a place where the people fear for their lives daily, where cruelty is praised as heroism. I would see him and his palace fall to rubble, if I had the power.”
“So you want us to help you remove him as the King?” Yuri wondered.
“No. I simply want to see your fiancé set free.”
“Why?” Conrad demanded, advancing on her by a few small steps. “Why would your risk yourself in order to help us? You know better than I that your brother will see you beheaded for this - if, in fact, you are being truthful.”
Again, she raised her eyes to meet Yuri’s and spoke, her voice steady but soft, and so filled with emotion that was painful to hear. “Because tonight, I feel life inside me again, even though it was lost to me long ago. Because I saw how deeply he loves you, and I see how deeply you love him. Because seeing the bond between you might be the only time in my life that I will ever witness love…and I refuse to see it broken. That is why.”
There was silence for a moment, her raw voice seeming to echo within the huge walls of the tent, as if no one dared to question her. Yuri looked at her, sadness overwhelming him as he took in the countless scars on her body and the agony in her eyes, and he reminded himself of what she had endured in her life. For her to still believe in love enough that she would be willing to sacrifice herself for its sake, in spite of everything that she had suffered…in spite of never having experienced it herself…
Yuri wanted it to be true. He didn’t know if that was because of Wolfram or something else, but he so badly wanted to believe that there could still be hope and goodness in someone who had suffered so much; someone who should, by all rights, have given up on life long ago. Perhaps it was foolish of him, but Yuri knew, deep in his heart, that he could never forgive himself if he tossed this woman aside. She said that she was coming to help Yuri, but Yuri could see that, whether she knew it herself or not, Alessandra had come seeking someone who would be willing to help her - either to help her live, or to help her die.
And Yuri would ensure that it was the former.
“But what about you?” Yuri asked quietly. “As Conrad said, Aldrich will not be happy to find that you have helped us. And your husband…”
“My husband…” she said stoically, “is nothing more than a man who forces me to share his bed. I was married to him against my will. Our union was a trade agreement between him and my brother, nothing more. And as for my brother…” she paused, her eyes one again filling with resolve. “As for him, it is high time that he was defied. Any retribution he seeks against me can be nothing worse than what he has already done. I will accept whatever consequences might come from my actions, but I have remained crippled and helpless for too long. I allowed myself to slip into a waking death, and the price was the suffering of my homeland. No longer can I afford to place my own pain above that of my people. Your fiancé showed me that. And I can think of no better way to redeem myself than by saving the very thing that my brother wishes to destroy.”
Another silence stretched for several seconds, and Yuri could almost feel some of the tension draining from the room. It seemed that, in spite of the mutual mistrust, everyone was at least beginning to realize that Alessandra was no skilled assassin. They still did not believe her completely, but Yuri would show that she meant no harm. The only way, as he saw it, to prove that she was no threat was to first place his trust in her.
“Lower your weapons,” Yuri instructed, quietly but firmly, “she won’t hurt me.” To his surprise, Gwendal actually backed away from Alessandra a bit, but remained close enough that he would have no trouble stopping her before anything happened. The three soldiers surrounding her did the same. She dropped to the floor, into a posture somewhere between bowing and begging. Yuri began to move towards her, forcibly pushing past Conrad and Günter, who did not object, but positioned themselves on either side of Yuri, their swords still at the ready.
Yuri knelt down in front of Alessandra, careful to remain out of arm’s reach. Even though he trusted that she meant him no harm, Yuri knew that his guardians would not allow him to get any closer.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly, “for everything that you have been through.”
Alessandra did not look up at him, the heavy drape of her long red hair concealing her face. “I…there is no need, Your Majesty,” she replied, her voice unsteady and broken for the first time since she had been brought before him. Yuri was a bit taken aback that a woman who could face down six armed soldiers with such confidence could be so rattled by someone speaking to her with kindness.
Yuri smiled, even though she could not see it. “There is a need. You did not deserve what has happened to you. And I promise you that I will help you in whatever ways I can. You never have to go back there again if you do not wish it.”
Alessandra seemed to shrivel before his eyes - this same woman who had seemed immeasurably strong a moment ago. “I am not worthy of such generosity,” she whispered.
“Of course you are,” Yuri told her gently. “Your life is your own. I am simply offering my protection so that you can begin to live it on your own terms.”
She raised her head and looked at Yuri tentatively, as if afraid to grasp onto the hope that he was offering. Then, she shifted her posture abruptly to sit primly on her folded knees, and she gave a deep, graceful bow, lowering her head in a submissive, almost seductive pose, like a courtesan ingratiating herself to her Master. “I am in your debt, Your Majesty…even if that is a promise that I believe you can not keep. Please, allow me to be of service to your men, as a gesture of good faith.”
Yuri stared for a moment, confused both by the sudden change in demeanor and her words. “Service? What are you talking about? I don’t think we need any supplies or anything…”
“Your Majesty,” interrupted Conrad, as he leaned down toward Yuri and spoke quietly to him, “she is offering her body to you and your soldiers.”
“What? No!” Yuri protested in shock. “I told you, your life is yours. You don’t ever have to be with anyone unless you want to.”
Alessandra tensed slightly, and she remained in her bowed posture, staring at the floor, unconcerned with the blood that still dripped from her wounds. “But I have no other way to repay you, Your Majesty. It would be an honor for me.”
Yuri stared at her incredulously, thinking that he had never seen anything so sad in all his life. “Why?” he asked softly, “Why would you want to hurt yourself like that?”
“If you are concerned about hurting me, you needn’t be. This is my own will.” There was a fleeting pause, and when she continued, her tone was one of desperate pleading. “Please, you must let me repay you. This is all I have to offer. Please.”
“Your body is not a payment!” Yuri cried. He saw her flinch at that, and wondered if he was actually hurting her worse by refusing, as crazy as that sounded to him.
“I understand, Your Majesty.” Alessandra’s head was still lowered, but her bow was now closer to a position of defeat than anything else. “You do not want me because you see that I am ruined.”
Yuri stared again, feeling completely helpless in the face of what he considered to be warped logic on Alessandra’s part. He realized with a sinking feeling that helping her would not be as simple as he had thought. She was viewing the world through a thick veil of hate and fear and confusion, and it would take both time and persistence to change that…if he ever could.
Yuri knew then that despite his want to comfort and console this injured woman, she could not hear the intent behind his words right now. All that he would accomplish by continuing to attempt this conversation would be confusing and hurting her further. Besides, it was quite late now, and everyone needed to get some sleep if they were going to depart at sunrise.
He raised his head to Conrad and Günter, who were both looking at their guest with a strange mixture of pity and wariness, but Yuri noticed that they had lowered their weapons. Gwendal seemed more skeptical than anything else, but no longer looked angry, which Yuri supposed could be considered a bit of progress. Strangely, Murata had not said anything at all…Yuri wondered briefly whether that was an indication of confidence or whether his friend was simply too tired to participate.
Whatever else they felt, everyone seemed to be waiting for Yuri to make a decision. So he made one.
“Please escort the Duchess somewhere that she can rest and clean up, and give her a change of clothes,” he said, rising to his feet and giving Gwendal a pointed look. “Guard her if you must, but she is not a prisoner. She is my guest, and should be treated as such.” Gwendal glowered at Yuri, but did not issue any objection.
Alessandra did not look up from her hunched bow. “Your Majesty? What of my request to repay you?”
Yuri thought for a moment, knowing that she was not going to let him dismiss the idea. “Very well, there is something that I would ask of you. It will not be easy, but it is the only thing that I will accept. You are not ruined, Alessandra Silke. And you can repay me by, one day, believing that.”
Alessandra slowly raised her head to look at Yuri, her eyes filled with disbelief and panic - as if she knew that she could never fulfill that request. She looked as if she was going to protest, but before she could find the words, Conrad had sheathed his sword and walked over, offering her his hand.
“I will show you to a sleeping quarters, Duchess,” he said, giving her the smile that Yuri knew so well. “I am afraid we did not expect company, but I’m certain that we can find something appropriate.”
She hesitantly reached out and took Conrad’s hand, and he slowly helped her to her feet, the shocked expression still on her face. Then, he reached for the cloak that one of the soldiers still held, and laid it across Alessandra’s shoulders, covering her. He gently turned her around and began to show her out of the tent, being as passive as possible while still giving her little choice in the matter. She turned and glanced over her shoulder at Yuri, giving him one last timid look before she and Conrad disappeared out into the night, the three soldiers following close behind.
It took several minutes for Conrad to return, during which time Yuri realized that Gwendal was shooting him a withering stare.
“What?” Yuri asked casually, even though he was fully aware of the reason behind that look.
“I was simply wondering if there would ever come a time when you might listen to reason instead of being so blindly impulsive. You well know that trusting that woman might lead to even more problems than we have already…Your Majesty.”
“And you well know,” Yuri began evenly, “that I could not refuse to help someone so obviously in need of it.” Everyone else stared silently as Gwendal continued to glare at Yuri, probably wondering whether exhaustion and stress would make him lose his temper.
Much to Yuri’s surprise, Gwendal’s expression changed, and he appeared suddenly weary. “Your Majesty, we have all followed you into danger countless times, even when we believed that you were risking your life recklessly, and this expedition is no exception. You seem intent upon placing yourself at risk; perhaps out of a sense of duty, perhaps out of guilt. But know this: you are our King. As such, your life is no longer yours to risk in such a haphazard manner. Trusting the wrong person could lead to fatal, irreversible consequences for the Kingdom. You must begin to consider what impact your actions will have not only on yourself, but also on your people.”
Günter inhaled sharply beside Yuri, shocked at what Gwendal had said - Gwendal had questioned Yuri’s decisions before, but he had never accused him of being…selfish. Yuri met Gwendal’s eyes for a moment, considering the points he had made. In a way, Gwendal was right; but Yuri knew that he was also looking at things from only one perspective.
“I understand your frustration,” Yuri said, speaking to everyone rather than just to Gwendal, “and I apologize if it seems as if I’m risking my life for my own selfish reasons. But to sit, safe and sound in the Castle while I send others to risk their lives for me - under my orders - is that the kind of King that you wish me to be? Because, if I am not mistaken, that is exactly what Stoffel did to you all of you.”
There was a fleeting but heavy silence before Gwendal replied. “That,” he said gravely, “was a different situation entirely. You should not speak so freely about things which you have no knowledge of.”
“I don’t mean to make light of what happened in the past,” Yuri soothed, apologetically but not regretfully. “I’m only saying that, if I were the type of person who could leave my fiancé to be…” he swallowed, barely able to say the words, “to be tortured and killed without fighting for him, I doubt that the people would place much value on my life, nor should they.”
Yuri looked around, meeting the eyes of each person briefly before turning to Gwendal again. “I value your help and guidance, all of you, so much that it is impossible to describe. But I am who I am, and that is all that I can be.” Yuri paused, but then realized that this discussion could very well go on for hours, and right now he needed to focus on getting Wolfram back. Everything else could wait until after that.
“Look,” he said hurriedly, before anyone else could cut in, “right now is not the time to go back and forth about what makes a good King. I just want Wolfram back, and I am trusting Alessandra to help me to do that. After it’s done, we can debate this all you like. But right now, I just want to go to sleep. Okay?”
Conrad looked disconcerted for a second, but quickly recovered. “I think that is a wise idea,” he said with a glance at his older brother. Gwendal was still for a moment, but then muttered a reluctant agreement and walked away, pushing the tent flap out of his way as he exited.
“We’ll be right outside if you need us, Your Majesty,” Günter said to Yuri, his eyes shimmering with what might have been tears. Then he wished Yuri good night before turning to leave, as well.
Conrad and Murata seemed to exchange a private look before both wishing Yuri good night and walking into the curtained areas that were to be their “rooms” for the night. Yuri went to his own sleeping area, finding the prepared cot that would be his temporary bed. As he lay down, he tried to ignore the part of his mind that was considering whether Gwendal might have a point about risking his life needlessly. He could not afford to second-guess himself now…Wolfram was depending on him.
‘Hold on, Wolf,’ Yuri thought pleadingly as he closed his eyes. ‘Please hold on, I’m coming…’
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Brief Authors Note: Thanks for your patience as I finish the chapter. It will be out as soon as I (and my beta) deem it to be good enough for public viewing. Please let me know your opinion of posting “previews” like this. This was intended to be a one-time thing to live up to my end of a bargain, but if enough people like the idea of getting more story sooner, I suppose I can oblige. ^_^ I’d like to say the next part will be out by August 14 or so, but let’s just be flexible with the timeframe, shall we? I promise to try and get it out soon.
Reviews and constructive criticism are always appreciated…the more feedback I get, the more motivated I am to write. So, yes, I am begging. ^_^ Review please!
Also, if anyone’s going to Otakon…have a great time! I know I will…~_^
Endless praise to Triskell for being a great beta!
Please review…