Unforgivable-- Chapter IX
Title: Unforgivable
Author: Melusine
Beta: toshimalfoy
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: WolfYuu/Yuuram, Greta
Warnings this part: Issues of rape
Overall warnings: Angst, violence, incest, dubious consent, statutory rape, issues of rape
Spoilers: Through season 2.
Disclaimer: Kyou Kara Maou! and related characters, situations, etc. belong to Tomo Takabayashi and various other people/companies, none of whom are me. This is a fan work; no profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: It's been seven years since Yuuri became the Demon King, proposed to Wolfram, and adopted Greta. When the relationship between Yuuri and Wolfram begins to shift, and Greta is attacked, everything changes and old wounds are exposed.
Part: 9/?
Chapter IX
Word must have gotten out that Yuuri was awake, because he hadn't even finished his small meal before there was a knock on the door that turned out to be Anissina, looking grave.
"I want to visit Greta," she said without preamble. "I'm going with you on your next trip to Earth."
"You-- What? No, Anissina, I can't--"
"Then bring her back here. Did Sir Belefield tell you about her letter?"
"There was a letter? What letter? How--"
"Wolfram brought it to me the other day. He didn't tell you? She wrote about what happened, you know. She told me everything."
Yuuri was shocked into silence for a moment. He looked at Murata, but his friend's attention was focused entirely on Anissina.
"'Everything'?" asked the sage. "What exactly do you mean by that?"
She glared back. "I mean that she told me about how she was raped and how her parents sent her to another world like some sort of punishment--"
"Lady Anissina." Murata cut her off. "Everything has been done in the Princess's best interest."
"Really? Her interest? Or the High King's?"
Yuuri nearly overturned his tray. "What?" He didn't even know what to say--
Murata spoke for him. "Greta will be better able to recover if she can feel safe," he said calmly. "She was obviously not safe here."
Anissina's face was turning an angry pink. "And you think she feels safe trapped in a foreign world all alone?"
Now Yuuri was angry. "She's not alone. She's with her grandparents."
"Hah!" Anissina barked. "Her grandparents? She hardly knows them-- they know nothing of her world or what she's been through. Your family is not her family, Your Majesty. You barely have the right to call yourself her father-- Don't think that extends to people you hardly ever see yourself."
A pause followed this. Yuuri felt himself go pale. "You don't know what you're talking about," he whispered.
Her eyes flashed. "But I do," she said, and pulled a thick packet of paper from her pocket.
That must be the letter. It was a long letter.
"She wants to come home," said Anissina.
Yuuri gritted his teeth. "Well she can't. Not yet. She couldn't change my mind and Wolfram couldn't change my mind-- you are certainly not going to change my mind."
After a moment's silence, Anissina switched tactics. "Then at least take me to visit her. She says she misses me."
He glared at her. He wanted to refuse, just because he was so angry.
But, "A familiar friend could be a great comfort to Greta right now," said Murata, looking back to Yuuri.
Yuuri sighed and looked away. "Alright. When Wolfram comes back--" If Wolfram comes back, he thought, "-- And when I'm ready, I suppose we can take you along."
Anissina seemed to let out a breath as she said, "Thank you, Your Majesty." She left quickly, perhaps afraid he would change his mind.
* * *
Belefield was the same as ever. The castle and the grounds hadn't changed, Wolfram's cousins were the same, and their children had remained children while his own daughter had grown up. Still, he couldn't help pitying the other parents a little, just as he pitied all parents, because none of their children, charming as they could be, were half as cute and kind and clever and beautiful as Greta.
Belefield hadn't changed, but Wolfram had. The last time he'd been here, his position had been similar to that of a bastard child, allowed the family name and nothing else, save a token military position thanks to the generosity of his uncle. Now he arrived a king, his blue uniform traded for black, and was treated as an honored guest.
And the fact that he was a guest was greatly emphasized. Evidently, there had been some truth to what Gwendal had said of Wolfram's relatives becoming nervous about his new power. So they made sure he was both comfortable and not at home.
That was alright. Wolfram didn't want to be home. Home was people he should have been able to trust.
And in his unique position-- as a guest and a king-- there was nothing he had to do. He didn't even have to be gracious or sociable or attend meals if he didn't want to. This was vastly different from all his previous experience, especially here, where he'd always had the fear in the back of his mind that if he made a mistake he would fall out of favor with his uncle and lose his place. Become nothing. Just a sad story of a prince who had fallen from court.
So he took advantage of his freedom and spent his first morning at Belefield walking the gardens. He found that for long periods of time he was able to think about nothing at all. It was like he hadn't been able to breathe for weeks and now the air was fresh and clean and carrying just a hint of salt from the bay.
Usually-- or what used to be usual, which now seemed so far away-- Wolfram would be spending the better part of his day with Greta, teaching and training and pushing her to be a Demon princess. And when she was younger, she even used to watch him train the other soldiers. In recent years she'd been spending all her free time in Anissina's lab, reading ridiculous novels and blowing things up.
But the leaves were beginning to change now, and Wolfram realized, with a quick calculation, that it wouldn't have been a normal day even if everything in the past two months hadn't happened: This was the week every year when Greta traveled with Nicola to the nearest Human city for the Feast of the Dead, the most important of the Human Holidays.
Wolfram hated it. How could he not? He couldn't understand it, couldn't help feeling hurt that his daughter was clinging to a religion that taught that Demons were evil and magic was a perversion and abuse of natural forces-- A religion that had made her think she should assassinate the Great Demon King.
And when she was thirteen, she had returned from the festival with a brand new necklace she'd gotten at the market...
Made of holy stones.
She didn't know, of course, until she came home and Wolfram started yelling... He hadn't handled it well. He'd sensed the wrongness, the pain of the drain on his magic, and the anger he'd already felt over her inappropriate pilgrimage had risen up in full force.
He didn't remember everything he'd said, but he'd made her cry.
How dare you bring this here! Are you trying to hurt me? What is wrong with you?
When he'd gotten a hold of himself once more, he asked, voice still sharp, "Who sold this to you?"
"I don't know--" she said between sobs. "Just someone with a cart-- She gave it to me--"
Wolfram knew that shopkeepers were often eager to have the princess show off their wares, though it had been happening less and less.
"So she knew who you were."
Greta nodded.
That had been the first real sign that there were people even within their own country who didn't approve of a Demon princess who was really a Human.
And Wolfram should have realized that things were getting more and more dangerous for her. He had realized it, actually, but hadn't really done anything about it, believing he could be all the protection she needed.
He'd been so stupid. And so selfish to let himself be distracted by Yuuri.
But that wouldn't happen anymore. Things with Yuuri were going to be simple from now on.
Wolfram wasn't capable of giving Yuuri anything beyond simple.
* * *
Wolfram was gone, Greta was on Earth, and Conrad-- well, Yuuri couldn't even imagine speaking to him now. It seemed to keep getting worse. Yuuri would see Conrad and have to turn away, sometimes actually running in the opposite direction. He couldn't breathe when he thought about it-- Wolfram-- just a child-- what must have happened--
"So," said Murata, with a false cough, when Yuuri doubled back after catching sight of Conrad around a corner. "You talked to him, huh?"
Yuuri's face heated. "Yeah. Right... Right after I found out. Wolfram told me to. He didn't want to tell me himself."
"And you didn't change?"
Yuuri shook his head. "I... I wasn't even angry."
"But you were angry when you spoke to Wolfram. You changed then."
Yuuri had no response to that. He walked faster.
Murata stopped him with a hand on his shoulder and turned him around to look him in the eye. "Do you blame Wolfram?"
"Of course not!"
"Are you sure?"
"Yes!"
"You don't think he let it happen? He could have fought. And he could have told you sooner. He let you believe that no one else had ever touched him. He let you think Conrad was someone you could trust. And--"
"Stop it!" Yuuri shouted, his voice ringing in the stone corridor. "How can you say those things? Why are you being like this?"
"Because you can't forgive him if you can't admit to yourself that you're angry with him."
Yuuri swallowed. "You're wrong," he said lowly. "None of it is Wolfram's fault."
"I didn't say it was."
But Yuuri was already walking quickly away, his heart beating too fast.
Why was all of this so complicated?
He wanted Wolfram back.
He wanted Wolfram to trust him again. He wanted Wolfram to tell him how to help.
And, God, he wanted to feel Wolfram again! And would he ever be able to? Would Wolfram ever stop being afraid-- and would Yuuri ever be able to trust himself? Or that Wolfram was being honest about what he wanted?
What if what had happened the other night-- their real wedding night-- never happened again?
He couldn't think like that. He had to believe that he could help Wolfram. He just needed to work it out.
* * *
"I know you like him, Mom," Shouri was saying as Greta made her way into the kitchen for breakfast. "It's just that I think he's standing in the way of Yuuri pursuing a real relationship."
"What are you talking about?" said Greta from the doorway, taking him by surprise. "Are you talking about Wolfram? What do you mean, 'real relationship'?"
Jennifer turned from the stove to set Greta's plate down, her lips pursed in a rare angry expression. Shouri looked uncomfortable.
"Yuuri is married to Wolfram," Greta went on.
"Greta..." said Shouri slowly, as if choosing his words with care. "Sometimes things like that are necessary... for political reasons."
"I know that!" Greta snapped. "I'm not a child. But Yuuri and Wolfram are in love." She didn't quite know why she was defending them-- the disgusting things they didn't bother to hide-- but she still didn't like the idea of Yuuri wandering off to someone else.
Shouri looked at his mother for help, but she went back to her cooking, ignoring him.
"I'm sure it looks that way," he said finally, as Greta glared at him from across the table, "but it's just friendship. My brother isn't gay."
"What's 'gay'?" asked Greta, even though she knew, from books and from things she'd overheard Yuuri say. She crossed her arms over her chest and sat back in her chair.
He was blushing now. "A gay man," he said, with false patience, "is a man who falls in love with other men."
"Like Yuuri."
"I don't think so." Shouri had the nerve to smile condescendingly at her. "I would know."
"They sleep in the same bed."
"And you used to sleep with them, too, didn't you?"
"They kiss," she countered.
"You don't know what you're talking about." He was still smiling.
"On the mouth," she added. "With tongue." Shouri's smile was faltering, so she continued mercilessly. "They do other things, too. They--"
"Shut up!"
Shouri had finally cracked.
"Shouri!" Jennifer scolded. "Calm down!"
He was still staring angrily at Greta, but he relaxed a little at his mother's command. "I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have raised my voice. But if Yuuri was in that kind of relationship-- if he was even capable of being in such a relationship with a man-- I would know about it. I'm his big brother. He would have told me."
Greta raised her eyebrows, but didn't argue further. He would realize the truth some day, and she hoped she was there to see the look on his face.
* * *
Yuuri never slept very well without Wolfram, but now it was so much worse, because he was so worried-- terrified, really.
He thought about all the things he'd done wrong. There was a lot. Even the first time they'd kissed, Yuuri hadn't stopped when Wolfram wanted him to. Had done something Wolfram didn't want-- had hurt him-- almost ruined everything.
He groaned and pulled a pillow over his face. He was so ashamed. More disgusted and horrified by his own behavior the more he thought about it. And he had no excuses. Not for any of it. All he could do was feel terrible about it and try not to do it again.
He wondered if the only way to do that was to let Wolfram go. Was Yuuri only being selfish in wanting him to stay? Surely Yuuri had something to offer. Surely he'd made Wolfram happy more than he'd hurt him?
Surely there was a difference between what Yuuri had done and what Conrad had done.
He threw the pillow across the room and then flung himself out of bed because he couldn't stay still any longer.
He was thinking about it again.
He was wondering, as much as he didn't want to be, what exactly had happened. How far had it gone? And...
How had Wolfram felt at the time? It shouldn't matter. It didn't matter-- Wolfram had been so young-- whatever he might have thought or felt or done meant nothing-- was because his brother was taking advantage of him so completely.
But Yuuri had too much time to think.
When Wolfram came back he could focus on helping him. Focus on the present and what he could do now. He could escape from some of the torture his own mind insisted on inflicting.
With each passing day he had more doubts.
If Wolfram could just be honest... Yuuri wouldn't have to wonder... But terrible thoughts kept occurring to him.
What if Wolfram had liked it? He couldn't be blamed-- eleven years old-- and Yuuri didn't know what all had happened-- What if he liked it more than Yuuri?
Yuuri stopped in his pacing at the window and opened it violently. The cold was nice-- distracting.
But not distracting enough.
What if Wolfram had dropped to his knees in Yuuri's parents' bathroom expecting to enjoy himself and was angry-- ashamed, disappointed-- when he didn't?
Maybe Yuuri didn't taste good.
Yuuri almost screamed. He didn't want to be thinking these things.
He decided to take a walk. Anything was better than staying here alone in this room where Wolfram should be.
And he didn't know how long he'd been wandering the corridors before he started thinking about talking to Conrad. Maybe it had been his intention all along. In any case, his feet were numb against the cold stone floors by the time he finally brought himself to Conrad's door.
He didn't want to know. But he had to. He couldn't keep on like this.
He knocked.
It was a moment before Conrad answered, and Yuuri almost ran away again. But he wanted to face it.
He wanted to face Conrad. He looked up to meet the older man's eye.
At first glance, Conrad looked the same as always, minus his old smile, but that had begun to fade weeks ago. There was something in his eyes, though, that wasn't quite right. The way he looked at Yuuri-- as if hardly seeing him. Or maybe seeing him too well.
"Yuuri," said Conrad, and then Yuuri knew, even before he smelled it on his breath-- Conrad was drunk.
Good. Maybe that would make it easier.
"I..." Yuuri started. He looked down the hallway. There were no guards in this part of the castle, but still, someone could walk by. He didn't want to have this conversation in public. "Can I come in?"
It took Conrad a second to react, but he opened the door wider and stood aside, giving Yuuri room to pass, but not quite room enough to avoid brushing against him.
Yuuri pulled his robe tighter around himself and stood awkwardly in the middle of the small room as Conrad closed the door. "I need to know what happened," he burst out, before the man had even turned around. "I-- I need to know exactly what-- what happened."
Conrad looked at him for a moment, expression empty. "I don't think Wolfram wants me to tell you anything more," he said.
"But he told me to talk to you. He told me to get you to tell me what happened. But I didn't-- I didn't ask..." He swallowed. "You said it stopped when you went too far. What does that mean? What did you do?"
Conrad hesitated again, this time for a full minute. Finally, when Yuuri was about to either ask again or tell him not to answer after all, he said, "I had sex with him."
Oh God.
The room spun. Yuuri couldn't breathe. He wanted to make Conrad take it back. But it was too late. He knew. He knew and now he was thinking about it.
He wanted to throw up.
He must have swayed, because Conrad caught him and suddenly he was being held again in those strong arms. Being held in the way that used to make him feel so safe-- It was tempting to feel that way again, to pretend that the person holding him had never...
"How could you?" Yuuri whispered. "How could you do that to him?"
"I know," said Conrad. Then, after a pause, "But do you want to know the truth, Yuuri, about all of that? Do you really want to know the truth?" Yuuri didn't answer, but Conrad went on anyway. "He wanted it. He needed me. And I needed him. We were just too young to know that we wanted the wrong things." He drew back a little to look down at Yuuri. He touched Yuuri's hair. "Now I know I always want the wrong things."
By now Yuuri could feel tears running down his cheeks. Because he could see how Wolfram could have fallen in love with this man.
Conrad sighed. His hand was still in Yuuri's hair. "And now he needs you," he said.
Yuuri gazed back at him, watching clouded eyes. Yes, Conrad was very drunk.
"You said you left because you were hurting him," said Yuuri quietly.
"Yes," said Conrad. His other hand stroked Yuuri's wet cheek distractedly. "I did hurt him sometimes." Another pause. "But he kept asking for it," he added softly.
Yuuri bowed his head. It didn't matter, he kept telling himself. It didn't matter. Wolfram had been too young to understand what he was asking for.
It was still rape.
But Conrad hadn't really meant it. He hadn't really known, had he?
Unlike Yuuri, who heard Wolfram tell him to stop but didn't listen.
"I think I hurt him all the time," said Yuuri.
Conrad kissed his forehead. "I think you love him." His voice was thick. "I think you love him just as much as I did." Conrad's grip tightened to a fist in Yuuri's hair. "I think you want him just as much as I did." Yuuri shut his eyes, his face burning. "And if he still wants you-- If he comes back--" Conrad's volume dropped. "I think you should be careful."
"I know," said Yuuri.
"If you lose him, you won't get him back."
"I know." Yuuri looked up again as the hand in his hair relaxed. "But I don't know how... I don't know how to be careful. Because I thought I was being careful like you told me to but then I didn't pay enough attention-- I don't know-- Maybe I should have been able to tell by the way he said it-- that he wasn't really offering, or-- or I should have noticed when he stopped wanting to-- or something--" He was breathing too quickly. Knowing he wasn't making any sense, he kept talking. Because he had to get it out. "And he hated it, I know he did-- but even though I know-- I still--" He choked, running out of words, not knowing how to say it--
"You still think it felt good," Conrad whispered. Yuuri nodded. He was crying again. Conrad kissed his cheek. "You still want him to do it again."
"Yes," Yuuri gasped, trying to catch his breath between sobs.
Conrad drew back to meet his eyes once more. Hands now on either side of Yuuri's face. "I remember that." His face was flushed, eyes dark. "I know I hurt him. But I can't forget-- how good he felt--"
Sudden, hot jealousy flared up in Yuuri-- almost a physical pain. He tore his eyes from Conrad's, casting them downwards--
And regretted it immediately.
Conrad must have seen him look down. He caught Yuuri's arm even as Yuuri tried to step back. But it wasn't until Conrad pulled him closer that it hit Yuuri:
This wasn't about Wolfram. It was about him. Or both of them.
That look on Conrad's face-- It wasn't just intoxication. It was lust.
But Yuuri wasn't moving, wasn't trying to escape or even pretend he hadn't seen his friend's erection. He was just staring blankly as Conrad stared back, apparently waiting for some kind of response. Why wasn't Yuuri doing anything?
He wanted it. He wanted Conrad to do to him what he'd done to Wolfram. Just because it was the worst thing he could think of.
But that was insane. He was insane.
But he kept thinking it. He kept aching to do something-- anything-- that he would regret the rest of his life. He didn't know why. He wanted to destroy his own chances at happiness.
He stepped forward.
"Yuuri," Conrad breathed, and slid one arm around his waist, his other hand cupping his face once more. He sounded just like Wolfram. Conrad leant down, at the same time pulling Yuuri up to meet him...
Some sense of self-preservation sprang to life in Yuuri's mind.
He turned his head just as their lips touched.
Conrad let go.
"Sorry," Yuuri muttered, out of instinct more than anything else. "I... have to go."
Conrad said nothing, and Yuuri didn't look at him, though he saw from the corner of his eye that same hard expression-- Conrad hating himself--
Yuuri couldn't care. He ran.
At first he was just running as far away as possible. Hoping to leave behind the perverse desire for any kind of pain...
He had to slow down when the stitch in his side became unbearable and he was struggling to breathe. Feeling sick. So he walked back to his own room. Ignored the looks and offers of concern from the guards. Locked himself in.
He sat down in a corner, still clutching his side and trying not to vomit.
He couldn't trust himself. He wouldn't let himself do anything-- wouldn't even move-- until Wolfram came back to tell him what he had to do.
* * *
It was only Wolfram's second day at Belefield when his cousin Gertrude began to talk about the High King and how things must be going in the capital and how Wolfram was so good to visit them when he must be missed at Blood Pledge Castle, especially after having been absent so long.
Wolfram returned her arch smile and replied modestly that he was far less important than she seemed to believe.
But Woltorana, though far from approving of his daughter's hints for Wolfram to leave, could not, apparently, let such a remark go unprotested. "Come, now, Wolfram; you could hardly have achieved your position without being of some necessity to His Majesty."
Wolfram blushed. "Not so much that he cannot spare me for a few days," he said shortly.
Now Gertrude raised her eyebrows, and her husband smirked. "And you did have a rather extended honeymoon. Anyone would be tired after that."
Wolfram didn't know him well enough to tell if he was suggesting that Yuuri had grown bored of Wolfram, or if he was simply amusing himself with an allusion to sex. He suspected the former, but answered to the latter.
"Indeed-- My particular usefulness is not required quite all of the time. After all, too much spoils the possibility for more."
His cousins laughed, but Woltorana's frown only deepened. He leant over and said quietly to Wolfram, "Surely you are more to him than that."
Wolfram smiled-- a real smile-- because, of course, it was true.
"Yes," he said. "Of course I am." In fact, Wolfram was starting to feel some anxiety, having now been away for several days, about Yuuri and who was taking care of him. "Actually, I should be leaving after tomorrow."
And when he got home he could talk to Yuuri again about bringing Greta home. Try to convince him that Wolfram could keep her safe. Try to convince him that she wasn't safe on Earth if being there made her so miserable. Yuuri's parents still didn't know the real reason she was there-- They wouldn't think to watch her all the time and make sure she was alright. They didn't even know her well enough to tell what alright looked like.
Maybe Yuuri would be so happy to have Wolfram back that he would agree. Maybe he had come to his senses after having time to think alone. Maybe Anissina had yelled at him, too.
Maybe they could be a family again.
* * *
Once again, Yuuri woke to find Murata watching him. Only, this time, he wasn't sitting on a chair next to the bed, but rather on the floor next to where Yuuri had fallen asleep. He didn't look pleased.
"How did you get in here?" Yuuri asked. He thought about getting up, but decided against it and rolled over onto his back instead. He ached from sleeping on the hard stone, but he didn't care. "I thought I locked the door."
"You're not the only one with a key to this room," said Murata.
Yuuri did sit up at this. "Is Wolfram back?"
"No," said Murata quickly. "I'm sorry-- I meant the chief of guards. Speaking of which, I heard you took a walk last night."
Yuuri groaned. "Why do you have to know everything? What happened to privacy?"
"You gave it up when you became king. Now, do you want to tell me why you're sleeping on the floor?"
"No," said Yuuri petulantly, and stood up. "I want to go to the bathroom."
When he came back, Murata was waiting for him, standing with his arms crossed and looking patient and long-suffering. Yuuri walked past him, back to his corner. He lay down again.
Murata sighed. He'd been doing that a lot lately. "Are you avoiding your bed?"
Yuuri didn't answer right away. After a long pause, he finally said, "They slept together. Wolfram lied to me." He'd lied so much...
"You talked to Sir Weller last night."
"Yeah." Another pause. He closed his eyes, even though he was already looking up at the ceiling and not at the other boy. "He was drunk. And... I almost let him kiss me."
He heard Murata kneel down beside him once more. "Shibuya," he said quietly, "do you really feel that way about him?"
Yuuri's eyes flew open. "No! Of course not. Wolfram is... I just-- I don't even know why--" He swallowed. "There's something wrong with me, Murata. I... I think I'm broken. It's just too much and I'm broken--"
"You are not broken," said Murata firmly. "And thinking you are isn't going to help things. Get up."
"No." Yuuri rolled over onto his side and curled up into a ball. "I can't."
"Why not?"
After another long pause, Yuuri said, "Because there's too much. I can't even think straight. I don't know what's happening to me or how I feel about anything. And every time I try to do anything, things get more complicated."
"Who said you had to do anything? Just get up and eat something and then you can go back to sleep if you want to-- as long as it's in a bed."
Yuuri took a deep breath, thought about what Murata was saying, but...
"I can't move," he said. "Please, just let me-- Let me think. Just for a little while longer."
A pause. "Alright," said Murata. "I'll leave you alone for now. But I'll be back."
Yuuri nodded, and closed his eyes as his friend left. When he heard the door click shut, he rolled back over to stare at the ceiling once more.
Trying to think. Because something inside him was forcing him to. Because he had to figure out what he was going to do about what had happened the night before.
Nothing yet. Not right now.
But eventually he would have to face Conrad... again. And of course he had to face Wolfram when he came back.
Yuuri's gaze drifted over to the bed. Where he and Wolfram had... And Wolfram had said he'd never done it before. And Yuuri had believed him.
He'd been so relieved, thinking that he was Wolfram's first. But he wasn't.
But how could he be jealous? He shouldn't be feeling this. He should be miserable because Wolfram had been hurt, not because someone else had gotten to touch him first-- had probably done what Yuuri hadn't yet-- maybe never would--
Maybe didn't want to anymore.
And that was horrible-- He was a horrible person for even thinking it-- As if Wolfram was... damaged goods or something. But how could Yuuri touch him when he had to wonder who he was thinking about?
What if Wolfram still wanted Conrad? What if he wanted him more than he wanted Yuuri? Yuuri would never know-- Wolfram was so good at hiding-- at lying.
Yuuri took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He had to get himself under control.
Wolfram would come back. And when Yuuri saw him, it would be like always and Yuuri would be able to trust him again because he was Wolfram. And Yuuri would tell him about his conversation with Conrad and Wolfram would explain everything away and then they would be able to move on.
* * *
It had been almost a week, and Greta was still waiting for Yuuri and Wolfram. She had hoped, despite her better judgment, that after accidentally leaving her for five weeks they would be more careful this time to return as quickly as possible. But they were probably more concerned with each other than with visiting her.
She had already written five new pages to Anissina. As before, she'd started out with less personal things-- how she was still trying to learn Earth writing and it still didn't make sense, how she'd finally gotten to really go outside when they'd had the picnic, how Shouri was really weird about Yuuri and Wolfram...
But eventually she had to write about what was on her mind the most, which was her fathers' fight before they'd left and the way Wolfram had looked that morning. How mad she was at Yuuri, and how worried about Wolfram. But then she'd had to stop herself, as she'd also done in her last letter, before she started saying too much about Wolfram. Or, more specifically, how he made her feel when he got too close. What had happened to her had done nothing to dispel those feelings, just made them more shameful. Because, after that, she didn't want to have those kind of feelings at all-- it was so dirty-awful-disgusting-- even when they weren't caused by her father. She hadn't touched herself since That Night, and was trying to forget that she ever had.
And she'd been thinking about Wolfram when they grabbed her. Like punishment.
She didn't want to think that way. She knew she wasn't supposed to feel like it was her fault or she deserved it. So she kept her feelings secret, knowing she would look weak if she voiced them. She already felt weak for letting it happen.
So her letters stopped just short of all of this, and when she got too close she would put down her pen and go to her bed to cry-- no tears staining the paper-- and then she would take a shower. It was one good thing about this world... She could lock herself in a little room and sit under a constant spray of water. She could feel clean-- pretend she was clean. Pretend the water could wash everything away in its never-ending stream.
And when she came out of the shower, no one could tell she'd been crying.
* * *
Later that afternoon, Yuuri was no longer lying unmoving on his bedroom floor and was instead sitting unmoving in his office with his head on his desk. Murata had reminded him that he was a king and therefore had kingly duties, but Yuuri just... couldn't. He couldn't do anything. His brain was buzzing with exhaustion and too many thoughts. Murata kept gently trying to get him to at least appear to be functional-- had made him eat, and was now standing next to him and sighing.
When the door opened, Yuuri didn't bother to look up until he heard Murata say, "Sir Weller." He practically spat it out.
Yuuri raised his head just enough to see Conrad. He didn't look good. In fact, he looked as bad as Yuuri felt. He looked... disheveled, and there were dark circles under his eyes.
But mostly it was his expression.
Conrad didn't seem surprised at being attacked upon entering the room. He lowered his eyes as Murata continued.
"I was looking for you." He paused. "Although I hardly know what to say-- I can see that nothing I say to you will have the slightest effect on your future actions. And nothing you can say or do will even begin to excuse your behavior--" Murata's calm was disappearing. "And after you gave me your word!" He was getting louder, stepping closer towards Conrad. It was scary.
And Murata went on. "I don't know what it is that has made you into the lying, selfish, thoughtless and utterly stupid bastard you are and I don't care. But I do know now that you cannot be trusted as Shibuya's protector."
"What?" cried Yuuri. Was Murata firing Conrad? There was too much happening already-- It was too confusing--
"Your Majesty," said Conrad quietly, speaking at last. His head was bowed, but Yuuri could still see his tortured face. "I know that I am not-- have never been-- fit to be at your side. I've come to request that I be stationed elsewhere."
Yuuri hardly had time to register what he'd said before Murata shouted, "NO!" He looked, if possible, even angrier than before. "You coward! You will not run away from this! When Sir Belefield returns, he will not find that his brother has abandoned him again. You will be here. You will face him. You will not run away!"
There was silence. After a moment, Conrad straightened up into a military stance, though he still didn't look at either Yuuri or Murata. "Yes, Your Highness."
"You are dismissed," Murata commanded.
As the door shut behind Conrad, Yuuri let his forehead fall back on the desk with a thud.
"I hate this," he said. "I hate everything. Why is it like this?" Murata didn't answer. After a moment, he added, "Why did Conrad do that?"
"To you or to Sir Belefield?"
Yuuri's face heated against the wood of his desk. "I don't know-- Do you think it's the same thing?"
"I don't know," Murata replied. "But... Wolfram was much younger. His little brother. That's something... There was something wrong. Maybe Sir Weller was abused himself-- it's not uncommon for a victim to do the same thing, or something similar, to someone else. Maybe something else happened. We'll probably never know-- He might not know himself why he did it. I doubt he understands it any more than you do." A pause. "With you, I think it's something simpler. Then again... I also thought he would never act on it, and obviously I was wrong."
Something simpler. Yuuri didn't want to ask what Murata meant by that. He didn't want to know how Conrad felt about him if it was different from what he'd thought it was all these years. It was selfish, but he couldn't help it. There was only so much he could deal with at once, and he'd reached his limit several disturbing revelations ago.
Everyone was hiding so much! Yuuri didn't hide things like that. There was nothing--
Except that he his family didn't know what was really going on between him and Wolfram. But that was certainly not something he needed to be worrying about at the moment. It might even become a moot point, if Wolfram decided he was done and never came back.
Would that be easier? If he didn't have to think about Wolfram? Except, of course, he would. Yuuri was sure he would never stop feeling the way he did towards his husband. Even if he was too scared to touch him ever again, he could never stop loving him-- caring about him-- thinking about him every day.
He wanted Wolfram home.
* * *
On the evening of Wolfram's last full day at Belefield, Gertrude turned her efforts to collecting gossip. He wasn't surprised by any of it. She had always been jealous of him. When they were children it was because Wolfram's mother was the High Queen and he got to live at court and everyone thought he was the cutest thing in the world. Later, it was because her father allowed Wolfram to return to Belefield once he became the head of the family, despite the fact that Wolfram had chosen an inappropriate relationship with his half-blood brother over them.
So when she asked, while they were gathered around the fireplace after dinner, when he had fallen in love with Yuuri, Wolfram knew she was trying to trip him up. Especially when her husband's response was a smirking, "Dear, do you really think such a story would be suitable for the children?"
Wolfram cursed his pale cheeks, certain they were now red. He wanted to shout at them, tell them that he wasn't the courtesan they all thought he was, that he hadn't won Yuuri by performing or withholding whatever perverse sex acts they wished their spouses would do for them. He wanted to tell them--
But that was exactly what they were asking for, wasn't it? Something they thought he couldn't do: Make them believe that he truly loved Yuuri.
So Wolfram smiled. "It's a long story, but if you want to hear it, I'd be happy to indulge."
"Yes!" exclaimed Helen, clapping her hands. She was the eldest of the children, in her early sixties. She looked at him with the wide eyes of a young girl already dreaming of love. "I want to hear it! It must be so romantic!"
"Alright," said Wolfram, grinning, and trying to think of the best way to tell his story. Because his cousin did have a point-- he couldn't exactly talk about long nights spent painfully hard while Yuuri slept warm and innocent beside him...
Helen helped him, though. "When was your first kiss?" she asked eagerly. Now the other children were listening, too.
That was easy. "Not until the night that Yuuri announced the wedding date," he said, with a look at his cousins.
"But wasn't that just a few months ago?"
Wolfram nodded. "Yes. We were engaged for seven years before he finally told me he loved me."
"Wow," Helen breathed.
"How come?" asked Bertan, who had just turned fifty and believed he was no longer a child.
"Where Yuuri comes from, it's not acceptable for two men to be in love."
"Why?" asked Bertan again.
Before Wolfram could answer that he really had no idea, Helen sighed again. "Forbidden love..."
"But it's not forbidden here," said her brother.
"To Yuuri, it was," Wolfram said.
Bertran thought about this for a minute, while Helen looked dreamy. Finally, he said, "Isn't he a half-blood? I would be more worried about that."
"Bertran!" his sister hissed, looking mortified. "You can't say that about the High King!"
"No, it's true," said Wolfram. "And at first I didn't like it. I was raised like you." He shot a glare at Gertrude, who had the decency to look embarrassed. "And, actually, that's how it started. I insulted his mother because she's Human, and he slapped me for it."
"But on the left cheek?" said Helen excitedly.
Wolfram nodded. "He didn't know it was a proposal for marriage." He decided to skip over how Yuuri had tried to take it back, and the duel, and how Yuuri had tried to take it back again but Wolfram hadn't let him because it was his chance to be king.
"So it was a mistake," said Bertran.
"Yes," Wolfram admitted. "But it worked out." He wasn't sure what to tell next... "I moved in with him." He had to look into the fire, away from his audience. "And I fell in love with him." Somewhere between trying to seduce Yuuri in his bed and trying to keep rivals away from him in the day, it had backfired and Wolfram stopped being afraid of losing his position and started being afraid of losing Yuuri.
"When did he fall in love with you?" Helen asked.
"... I don't know," said Wolfram. "But I think it was long before he admitted it."
"And when he did you had your first kiss!" she said. "That's so romantic!"
Wolfram smiled.
"So what about before that?" Bertran asked, the cynicism gone from his tone. "You stayed even though you didn't know he loved you back?"
"Of course he did!" Helen cried. "He was in love! He had to stay, even if it hurt, because being near his beloved was still better than trying to live without him--"
"Well," Wolfram interrupted, his face burning, "there were a lot of reasons I stayed. Mostly it was because I knew he needed me. And soon Greta came into our lives. I couldn't have left when we had a daughter together."
Helen didn't seem to be listening to this. But she looked back up at him now, and asked, hands over her heart, "Did you ever give up hope that he would love you back? Did you think you might have to endure the pain of unrequited love forever?"
He wished she would stop talking like that. He hesitated a moment before answering. "Yes," he said simply. "But... like I said, it worked out." Which was sort of true, because things had been working for a few short weeks... "He married me after all."
"It was a beautiful ceremony," Gertrude commented. "The kiss was an... interesting touch."
Wolfram blushed again. "That's a tradition where Yuuri's from." Jennifer had been the one to bring it up, and of course Wolfram's mother had loved the idea, and Wolfram had really had no trouble giving in to their excited insistence, though Yuuri had been reluctant.
It had been beautiful. Most Demon weddings were-- with the sun and the moon both on the horizon, and the stillness-- the pause-- the moment of peace that marked the occasion. But at his own wedding, Wolfram could hardly pay attention to any of that. Yuuri was so beautiful, Wolfram was so happy... I love you, he whispered. Just for Yuuri. Just that once. Only for Yuuri.
"It was so romantic," said Helen. "I'm going to do that when I get married."
"You will not," her mother snapped.
"But the High King did it--"
"We don't do everything he does," said Gertrude emphatically, with a look at Wolfram. "Now, I think it's time for bed."
"But he's leaving tomorrow!" Helen protested.
"I wanna hear the rest of the story," said Bertran.
Gertrude gave them both a sharp look. "They got married. The story's over."
"Can we come visit?" asked Helen.
Wolfram smiled. "Of course. Whenever your mother allows it."
Gertrude made a sound that quite clearly stated such a time would never come.
But it was nice, how the children liked him. And as they headed off to bed, he was sorry to see them go.
He missed Greta.
* * *
Back to chapter VIII
Back to chapter I
On to chapter X
Author: Melusine
Beta: toshimalfoy
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: WolfYuu/Yuuram, Greta
Warnings this part: Issues of rape
Overall warnings: Angst, violence, incest, dubious consent, statutory rape, issues of rape
Spoilers: Through season 2.
Disclaimer: Kyou Kara Maou! and related characters, situations, etc. belong to Tomo Takabayashi and various other people/companies, none of whom are me. This is a fan work; no profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: It's been seven years since Yuuri became the Demon King, proposed to Wolfram, and adopted Greta. When the relationship between Yuuri and Wolfram begins to shift, and Greta is attacked, everything changes and old wounds are exposed.
Part: 9/?
Chapter IX
Word must have gotten out that Yuuri was awake, because he hadn't even finished his small meal before there was a knock on the door that turned out to be Anissina, looking grave.
"I want to visit Greta," she said without preamble. "I'm going with you on your next trip to Earth."
"You-- What? No, Anissina, I can't--"
"Then bring her back here. Did Sir Belefield tell you about her letter?"
"There was a letter? What letter? How--"
"Wolfram brought it to me the other day. He didn't tell you? She wrote about what happened, you know. She told me everything."
Yuuri was shocked into silence for a moment. He looked at Murata, but his friend's attention was focused entirely on Anissina.
"'Everything'?" asked the sage. "What exactly do you mean by that?"
She glared back. "I mean that she told me about how she was raped and how her parents sent her to another world like some sort of punishment--"
"Lady Anissina." Murata cut her off. "Everything has been done in the Princess's best interest."
"Really? Her interest? Or the High King's?"
Yuuri nearly overturned his tray. "What?" He didn't even know what to say--
Murata spoke for him. "Greta will be better able to recover if she can feel safe," he said calmly. "She was obviously not safe here."
Anissina's face was turning an angry pink. "And you think she feels safe trapped in a foreign world all alone?"
Now Yuuri was angry. "She's not alone. She's with her grandparents."
"Hah!" Anissina barked. "Her grandparents? She hardly knows them-- they know nothing of her world or what she's been through. Your family is not her family, Your Majesty. You barely have the right to call yourself her father-- Don't think that extends to people you hardly ever see yourself."
A pause followed this. Yuuri felt himself go pale. "You don't know what you're talking about," he whispered.
Her eyes flashed. "But I do," she said, and pulled a thick packet of paper from her pocket.
That must be the letter. It was a long letter.
"She wants to come home," said Anissina.
Yuuri gritted his teeth. "Well she can't. Not yet. She couldn't change my mind and Wolfram couldn't change my mind-- you are certainly not going to change my mind."
After a moment's silence, Anissina switched tactics. "Then at least take me to visit her. She says she misses me."
He glared at her. He wanted to refuse, just because he was so angry.
But, "A familiar friend could be a great comfort to Greta right now," said Murata, looking back to Yuuri.
Yuuri sighed and looked away. "Alright. When Wolfram comes back--" If Wolfram comes back, he thought, "-- And when I'm ready, I suppose we can take you along."
Anissina seemed to let out a breath as she said, "Thank you, Your Majesty." She left quickly, perhaps afraid he would change his mind.
* * *
Belefield was the same as ever. The castle and the grounds hadn't changed, Wolfram's cousins were the same, and their children had remained children while his own daughter had grown up. Still, he couldn't help pitying the other parents a little, just as he pitied all parents, because none of their children, charming as they could be, were half as cute and kind and clever and beautiful as Greta.
Belefield hadn't changed, but Wolfram had. The last time he'd been here, his position had been similar to that of a bastard child, allowed the family name and nothing else, save a token military position thanks to the generosity of his uncle. Now he arrived a king, his blue uniform traded for black, and was treated as an honored guest.
And the fact that he was a guest was greatly emphasized. Evidently, there had been some truth to what Gwendal had said of Wolfram's relatives becoming nervous about his new power. So they made sure he was both comfortable and not at home.
That was alright. Wolfram didn't want to be home. Home was people he should have been able to trust.
And in his unique position-- as a guest and a king-- there was nothing he had to do. He didn't even have to be gracious or sociable or attend meals if he didn't want to. This was vastly different from all his previous experience, especially here, where he'd always had the fear in the back of his mind that if he made a mistake he would fall out of favor with his uncle and lose his place. Become nothing. Just a sad story of a prince who had fallen from court.
So he took advantage of his freedom and spent his first morning at Belefield walking the gardens. He found that for long periods of time he was able to think about nothing at all. It was like he hadn't been able to breathe for weeks and now the air was fresh and clean and carrying just a hint of salt from the bay.
Usually-- or what used to be usual, which now seemed so far away-- Wolfram would be spending the better part of his day with Greta, teaching and training and pushing her to be a Demon princess. And when she was younger, she even used to watch him train the other soldiers. In recent years she'd been spending all her free time in Anissina's lab, reading ridiculous novels and blowing things up.
But the leaves were beginning to change now, and Wolfram realized, with a quick calculation, that it wouldn't have been a normal day even if everything in the past two months hadn't happened: This was the week every year when Greta traveled with Nicola to the nearest Human city for the Feast of the Dead, the most important of the Human Holidays.
Wolfram hated it. How could he not? He couldn't understand it, couldn't help feeling hurt that his daughter was clinging to a religion that taught that Demons were evil and magic was a perversion and abuse of natural forces-- A religion that had made her think she should assassinate the Great Demon King.
And when she was thirteen, she had returned from the festival with a brand new necklace she'd gotten at the market...
Made of holy stones.
She didn't know, of course, until she came home and Wolfram started yelling... He hadn't handled it well. He'd sensed the wrongness, the pain of the drain on his magic, and the anger he'd already felt over her inappropriate pilgrimage had risen up in full force.
He didn't remember everything he'd said, but he'd made her cry.
How dare you bring this here! Are you trying to hurt me? What is wrong with you?
When he'd gotten a hold of himself once more, he asked, voice still sharp, "Who sold this to you?"
"I don't know--" she said between sobs. "Just someone with a cart-- She gave it to me--"
Wolfram knew that shopkeepers were often eager to have the princess show off their wares, though it had been happening less and less.
"So she knew who you were."
Greta nodded.
That had been the first real sign that there were people even within their own country who didn't approve of a Demon princess who was really a Human.
And Wolfram should have realized that things were getting more and more dangerous for her. He had realized it, actually, but hadn't really done anything about it, believing he could be all the protection she needed.
He'd been so stupid. And so selfish to let himself be distracted by Yuuri.
But that wouldn't happen anymore. Things with Yuuri were going to be simple from now on.
Wolfram wasn't capable of giving Yuuri anything beyond simple.
* * *
Wolfram was gone, Greta was on Earth, and Conrad-- well, Yuuri couldn't even imagine speaking to him now. It seemed to keep getting worse. Yuuri would see Conrad and have to turn away, sometimes actually running in the opposite direction. He couldn't breathe when he thought about it-- Wolfram-- just a child-- what must have happened--
"So," said Murata, with a false cough, when Yuuri doubled back after catching sight of Conrad around a corner. "You talked to him, huh?"
Yuuri's face heated. "Yeah. Right... Right after I found out. Wolfram told me to. He didn't want to tell me himself."
"And you didn't change?"
Yuuri shook his head. "I... I wasn't even angry."
"But you were angry when you spoke to Wolfram. You changed then."
Yuuri had no response to that. He walked faster.
Murata stopped him with a hand on his shoulder and turned him around to look him in the eye. "Do you blame Wolfram?"
"Of course not!"
"Are you sure?"
"Yes!"
"You don't think he let it happen? He could have fought. And he could have told you sooner. He let you believe that no one else had ever touched him. He let you think Conrad was someone you could trust. And--"
"Stop it!" Yuuri shouted, his voice ringing in the stone corridor. "How can you say those things? Why are you being like this?"
"Because you can't forgive him if you can't admit to yourself that you're angry with him."
Yuuri swallowed. "You're wrong," he said lowly. "None of it is Wolfram's fault."
"I didn't say it was."
But Yuuri was already walking quickly away, his heart beating too fast.
Why was all of this so complicated?
He wanted Wolfram back.
He wanted Wolfram to trust him again. He wanted Wolfram to tell him how to help.
And, God, he wanted to feel Wolfram again! And would he ever be able to? Would Wolfram ever stop being afraid-- and would Yuuri ever be able to trust himself? Or that Wolfram was being honest about what he wanted?
What if what had happened the other night-- their real wedding night-- never happened again?
He couldn't think like that. He had to believe that he could help Wolfram. He just needed to work it out.
* * *
"I know you like him, Mom," Shouri was saying as Greta made her way into the kitchen for breakfast. "It's just that I think he's standing in the way of Yuuri pursuing a real relationship."
"What are you talking about?" said Greta from the doorway, taking him by surprise. "Are you talking about Wolfram? What do you mean, 'real relationship'?"
Jennifer turned from the stove to set Greta's plate down, her lips pursed in a rare angry expression. Shouri looked uncomfortable.
"Yuuri is married to Wolfram," Greta went on.
"Greta..." said Shouri slowly, as if choosing his words with care. "Sometimes things like that are necessary... for political reasons."
"I know that!" Greta snapped. "I'm not a child. But Yuuri and Wolfram are in love." She didn't quite know why she was defending them-- the disgusting things they didn't bother to hide-- but she still didn't like the idea of Yuuri wandering off to someone else.
Shouri looked at his mother for help, but she went back to her cooking, ignoring him.
"I'm sure it looks that way," he said finally, as Greta glared at him from across the table, "but it's just friendship. My brother isn't gay."
"What's 'gay'?" asked Greta, even though she knew, from books and from things she'd overheard Yuuri say. She crossed her arms over her chest and sat back in her chair.
He was blushing now. "A gay man," he said, with false patience, "is a man who falls in love with other men."
"Like Yuuri."
"I don't think so." Shouri had the nerve to smile condescendingly at her. "I would know."
"They sleep in the same bed."
"And you used to sleep with them, too, didn't you?"
"They kiss," she countered.
"You don't know what you're talking about." He was still smiling.
"On the mouth," she added. "With tongue." Shouri's smile was faltering, so she continued mercilessly. "They do other things, too. They--"
"Shut up!"
Shouri had finally cracked.
"Shouri!" Jennifer scolded. "Calm down!"
He was still staring angrily at Greta, but he relaxed a little at his mother's command. "I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have raised my voice. But if Yuuri was in that kind of relationship-- if he was even capable of being in such a relationship with a man-- I would know about it. I'm his big brother. He would have told me."
Greta raised her eyebrows, but didn't argue further. He would realize the truth some day, and she hoped she was there to see the look on his face.
* * *
Yuuri never slept very well without Wolfram, but now it was so much worse, because he was so worried-- terrified, really.
He thought about all the things he'd done wrong. There was a lot. Even the first time they'd kissed, Yuuri hadn't stopped when Wolfram wanted him to. Had done something Wolfram didn't want-- had hurt him-- almost ruined everything.
He groaned and pulled a pillow over his face. He was so ashamed. More disgusted and horrified by his own behavior the more he thought about it. And he had no excuses. Not for any of it. All he could do was feel terrible about it and try not to do it again.
He wondered if the only way to do that was to let Wolfram go. Was Yuuri only being selfish in wanting him to stay? Surely Yuuri had something to offer. Surely he'd made Wolfram happy more than he'd hurt him?
Surely there was a difference between what Yuuri had done and what Conrad had done.
He threw the pillow across the room and then flung himself out of bed because he couldn't stay still any longer.
He was thinking about it again.
He was wondering, as much as he didn't want to be, what exactly had happened. How far had it gone? And...
How had Wolfram felt at the time? It shouldn't matter. It didn't matter-- Wolfram had been so young-- whatever he might have thought or felt or done meant nothing-- was because his brother was taking advantage of him so completely.
But Yuuri had too much time to think.
When Wolfram came back he could focus on helping him. Focus on the present and what he could do now. He could escape from some of the torture his own mind insisted on inflicting.
With each passing day he had more doubts.
If Wolfram could just be honest... Yuuri wouldn't have to wonder... But terrible thoughts kept occurring to him.
What if Wolfram had liked it? He couldn't be blamed-- eleven years old-- and Yuuri didn't know what all had happened-- What if he liked it more than Yuuri?
Yuuri stopped in his pacing at the window and opened it violently. The cold was nice-- distracting.
But not distracting enough.
What if Wolfram had dropped to his knees in Yuuri's parents' bathroom expecting to enjoy himself and was angry-- ashamed, disappointed-- when he didn't?
Maybe Yuuri didn't taste good.
Yuuri almost screamed. He didn't want to be thinking these things.
He decided to take a walk. Anything was better than staying here alone in this room where Wolfram should be.
And he didn't know how long he'd been wandering the corridors before he started thinking about talking to Conrad. Maybe it had been his intention all along. In any case, his feet were numb against the cold stone floors by the time he finally brought himself to Conrad's door.
He didn't want to know. But he had to. He couldn't keep on like this.
He knocked.
It was a moment before Conrad answered, and Yuuri almost ran away again. But he wanted to face it.
He wanted to face Conrad. He looked up to meet the older man's eye.
At first glance, Conrad looked the same as always, minus his old smile, but that had begun to fade weeks ago. There was something in his eyes, though, that wasn't quite right. The way he looked at Yuuri-- as if hardly seeing him. Or maybe seeing him too well.
"Yuuri," said Conrad, and then Yuuri knew, even before he smelled it on his breath-- Conrad was drunk.
Good. Maybe that would make it easier.
"I..." Yuuri started. He looked down the hallway. There were no guards in this part of the castle, but still, someone could walk by. He didn't want to have this conversation in public. "Can I come in?"
It took Conrad a second to react, but he opened the door wider and stood aside, giving Yuuri room to pass, but not quite room enough to avoid brushing against him.
Yuuri pulled his robe tighter around himself and stood awkwardly in the middle of the small room as Conrad closed the door. "I need to know what happened," he burst out, before the man had even turned around. "I-- I need to know exactly what-- what happened."
Conrad looked at him for a moment, expression empty. "I don't think Wolfram wants me to tell you anything more," he said.
"But he told me to talk to you. He told me to get you to tell me what happened. But I didn't-- I didn't ask..." He swallowed. "You said it stopped when you went too far. What does that mean? What did you do?"
Conrad hesitated again, this time for a full minute. Finally, when Yuuri was about to either ask again or tell him not to answer after all, he said, "I had sex with him."
Oh God.
The room spun. Yuuri couldn't breathe. He wanted to make Conrad take it back. But it was too late. He knew. He knew and now he was thinking about it.
He wanted to throw up.
He must have swayed, because Conrad caught him and suddenly he was being held again in those strong arms. Being held in the way that used to make him feel so safe-- It was tempting to feel that way again, to pretend that the person holding him had never...
"How could you?" Yuuri whispered. "How could you do that to him?"
"I know," said Conrad. Then, after a pause, "But do you want to know the truth, Yuuri, about all of that? Do you really want to know the truth?" Yuuri didn't answer, but Conrad went on anyway. "He wanted it. He needed me. And I needed him. We were just too young to know that we wanted the wrong things." He drew back a little to look down at Yuuri. He touched Yuuri's hair. "Now I know I always want the wrong things."
By now Yuuri could feel tears running down his cheeks. Because he could see how Wolfram could have fallen in love with this man.
Conrad sighed. His hand was still in Yuuri's hair. "And now he needs you," he said.
Yuuri gazed back at him, watching clouded eyes. Yes, Conrad was very drunk.
"You said you left because you were hurting him," said Yuuri quietly.
"Yes," said Conrad. His other hand stroked Yuuri's wet cheek distractedly. "I did hurt him sometimes." Another pause. "But he kept asking for it," he added softly.
Yuuri bowed his head. It didn't matter, he kept telling himself. It didn't matter. Wolfram had been too young to understand what he was asking for.
It was still rape.
But Conrad hadn't really meant it. He hadn't really known, had he?
Unlike Yuuri, who heard Wolfram tell him to stop but didn't listen.
"I think I hurt him all the time," said Yuuri.
Conrad kissed his forehead. "I think you love him." His voice was thick. "I think you love him just as much as I did." Conrad's grip tightened to a fist in Yuuri's hair. "I think you want him just as much as I did." Yuuri shut his eyes, his face burning. "And if he still wants you-- If he comes back--" Conrad's volume dropped. "I think you should be careful."
"I know," said Yuuri.
"If you lose him, you won't get him back."
"I know." Yuuri looked up again as the hand in his hair relaxed. "But I don't know how... I don't know how to be careful. Because I thought I was being careful like you told me to but then I didn't pay enough attention-- I don't know-- Maybe I should have been able to tell by the way he said it-- that he wasn't really offering, or-- or I should have noticed when he stopped wanting to-- or something--" He was breathing too quickly. Knowing he wasn't making any sense, he kept talking. Because he had to get it out. "And he hated it, I know he did-- but even though I know-- I still--" He choked, running out of words, not knowing how to say it--
"You still think it felt good," Conrad whispered. Yuuri nodded. He was crying again. Conrad kissed his cheek. "You still want him to do it again."
"Yes," Yuuri gasped, trying to catch his breath between sobs.
Conrad drew back to meet his eyes once more. Hands now on either side of Yuuri's face. "I remember that." His face was flushed, eyes dark. "I know I hurt him. But I can't forget-- how good he felt--"
Sudden, hot jealousy flared up in Yuuri-- almost a physical pain. He tore his eyes from Conrad's, casting them downwards--
And regretted it immediately.
Conrad must have seen him look down. He caught Yuuri's arm even as Yuuri tried to step back. But it wasn't until Conrad pulled him closer that it hit Yuuri:
This wasn't about Wolfram. It was about him. Or both of them.
That look on Conrad's face-- It wasn't just intoxication. It was lust.
But Yuuri wasn't moving, wasn't trying to escape or even pretend he hadn't seen his friend's erection. He was just staring blankly as Conrad stared back, apparently waiting for some kind of response. Why wasn't Yuuri doing anything?
He wanted it. He wanted Conrad to do to him what he'd done to Wolfram. Just because it was the worst thing he could think of.
But that was insane. He was insane.
But he kept thinking it. He kept aching to do something-- anything-- that he would regret the rest of his life. He didn't know why. He wanted to destroy his own chances at happiness.
He stepped forward.
"Yuuri," Conrad breathed, and slid one arm around his waist, his other hand cupping his face once more. He sounded just like Wolfram. Conrad leant down, at the same time pulling Yuuri up to meet him...
Some sense of self-preservation sprang to life in Yuuri's mind.
He turned his head just as their lips touched.
Conrad let go.
"Sorry," Yuuri muttered, out of instinct more than anything else. "I... have to go."
Conrad said nothing, and Yuuri didn't look at him, though he saw from the corner of his eye that same hard expression-- Conrad hating himself--
Yuuri couldn't care. He ran.
At first he was just running as far away as possible. Hoping to leave behind the perverse desire for any kind of pain...
He had to slow down when the stitch in his side became unbearable and he was struggling to breathe. Feeling sick. So he walked back to his own room. Ignored the looks and offers of concern from the guards. Locked himself in.
He sat down in a corner, still clutching his side and trying not to vomit.
He couldn't trust himself. He wouldn't let himself do anything-- wouldn't even move-- until Wolfram came back to tell him what he had to do.
* * *
It was only Wolfram's second day at Belefield when his cousin Gertrude began to talk about the High King and how things must be going in the capital and how Wolfram was so good to visit them when he must be missed at Blood Pledge Castle, especially after having been absent so long.
Wolfram returned her arch smile and replied modestly that he was far less important than she seemed to believe.
But Woltorana, though far from approving of his daughter's hints for Wolfram to leave, could not, apparently, let such a remark go unprotested. "Come, now, Wolfram; you could hardly have achieved your position without being of some necessity to His Majesty."
Wolfram blushed. "Not so much that he cannot spare me for a few days," he said shortly.
Now Gertrude raised her eyebrows, and her husband smirked. "And you did have a rather extended honeymoon. Anyone would be tired after that."
Wolfram didn't know him well enough to tell if he was suggesting that Yuuri had grown bored of Wolfram, or if he was simply amusing himself with an allusion to sex. He suspected the former, but answered to the latter.
"Indeed-- My particular usefulness is not required quite all of the time. After all, too much spoils the possibility for more."
His cousins laughed, but Woltorana's frown only deepened. He leant over and said quietly to Wolfram, "Surely you are more to him than that."
Wolfram smiled-- a real smile-- because, of course, it was true.
"Yes," he said. "Of course I am." In fact, Wolfram was starting to feel some anxiety, having now been away for several days, about Yuuri and who was taking care of him. "Actually, I should be leaving after tomorrow."
And when he got home he could talk to Yuuri again about bringing Greta home. Try to convince him that Wolfram could keep her safe. Try to convince him that she wasn't safe on Earth if being there made her so miserable. Yuuri's parents still didn't know the real reason she was there-- They wouldn't think to watch her all the time and make sure she was alright. They didn't even know her well enough to tell what alright looked like.
Maybe Yuuri would be so happy to have Wolfram back that he would agree. Maybe he had come to his senses after having time to think alone. Maybe Anissina had yelled at him, too.
Maybe they could be a family again.
* * *
Once again, Yuuri woke to find Murata watching him. Only, this time, he wasn't sitting on a chair next to the bed, but rather on the floor next to where Yuuri had fallen asleep. He didn't look pleased.
"How did you get in here?" Yuuri asked. He thought about getting up, but decided against it and rolled over onto his back instead. He ached from sleeping on the hard stone, but he didn't care. "I thought I locked the door."
"You're not the only one with a key to this room," said Murata.
Yuuri did sit up at this. "Is Wolfram back?"
"No," said Murata quickly. "I'm sorry-- I meant the chief of guards. Speaking of which, I heard you took a walk last night."
Yuuri groaned. "Why do you have to know everything? What happened to privacy?"
"You gave it up when you became king. Now, do you want to tell me why you're sleeping on the floor?"
"No," said Yuuri petulantly, and stood up. "I want to go to the bathroom."
When he came back, Murata was waiting for him, standing with his arms crossed and looking patient and long-suffering. Yuuri walked past him, back to his corner. He lay down again.
Murata sighed. He'd been doing that a lot lately. "Are you avoiding your bed?"
Yuuri didn't answer right away. After a long pause, he finally said, "They slept together. Wolfram lied to me." He'd lied so much...
"You talked to Sir Weller last night."
"Yeah." Another pause. He closed his eyes, even though he was already looking up at the ceiling and not at the other boy. "He was drunk. And... I almost let him kiss me."
He heard Murata kneel down beside him once more. "Shibuya," he said quietly, "do you really feel that way about him?"
Yuuri's eyes flew open. "No! Of course not. Wolfram is... I just-- I don't even know why--" He swallowed. "There's something wrong with me, Murata. I... I think I'm broken. It's just too much and I'm broken--"
"You are not broken," said Murata firmly. "And thinking you are isn't going to help things. Get up."
"No." Yuuri rolled over onto his side and curled up into a ball. "I can't."
"Why not?"
After another long pause, Yuuri said, "Because there's too much. I can't even think straight. I don't know what's happening to me or how I feel about anything. And every time I try to do anything, things get more complicated."
"Who said you had to do anything? Just get up and eat something and then you can go back to sleep if you want to-- as long as it's in a bed."
Yuuri took a deep breath, thought about what Murata was saying, but...
"I can't move," he said. "Please, just let me-- Let me think. Just for a little while longer."
A pause. "Alright," said Murata. "I'll leave you alone for now. But I'll be back."
Yuuri nodded, and closed his eyes as his friend left. When he heard the door click shut, he rolled back over to stare at the ceiling once more.
Trying to think. Because something inside him was forcing him to. Because he had to figure out what he was going to do about what had happened the night before.
Nothing yet. Not right now.
But eventually he would have to face Conrad... again. And of course he had to face Wolfram when he came back.
Yuuri's gaze drifted over to the bed. Where he and Wolfram had... And Wolfram had said he'd never done it before. And Yuuri had believed him.
He'd been so relieved, thinking that he was Wolfram's first. But he wasn't.
But how could he be jealous? He shouldn't be feeling this. He should be miserable because Wolfram had been hurt, not because someone else had gotten to touch him first-- had probably done what Yuuri hadn't yet-- maybe never would--
Maybe didn't want to anymore.
And that was horrible-- He was a horrible person for even thinking it-- As if Wolfram was... damaged goods or something. But how could Yuuri touch him when he had to wonder who he was thinking about?
What if Wolfram still wanted Conrad? What if he wanted him more than he wanted Yuuri? Yuuri would never know-- Wolfram was so good at hiding-- at lying.
Yuuri took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He had to get himself under control.
Wolfram would come back. And when Yuuri saw him, it would be like always and Yuuri would be able to trust him again because he was Wolfram. And Yuuri would tell him about his conversation with Conrad and Wolfram would explain everything away and then they would be able to move on.
* * *
It had been almost a week, and Greta was still waiting for Yuuri and Wolfram. She had hoped, despite her better judgment, that after accidentally leaving her for five weeks they would be more careful this time to return as quickly as possible. But they were probably more concerned with each other than with visiting her.
She had already written five new pages to Anissina. As before, she'd started out with less personal things-- how she was still trying to learn Earth writing and it still didn't make sense, how she'd finally gotten to really go outside when they'd had the picnic, how Shouri was really weird about Yuuri and Wolfram...
But eventually she had to write about what was on her mind the most, which was her fathers' fight before they'd left and the way Wolfram had looked that morning. How mad she was at Yuuri, and how worried about Wolfram. But then she'd had to stop herself, as she'd also done in her last letter, before she started saying too much about Wolfram. Or, more specifically, how he made her feel when he got too close. What had happened to her had done nothing to dispel those feelings, just made them more shameful. Because, after that, she didn't want to have those kind of feelings at all-- it was so dirty-awful-disgusting-- even when they weren't caused by her father. She hadn't touched herself since That Night, and was trying to forget that she ever had.
And she'd been thinking about Wolfram when they grabbed her. Like punishment.
She didn't want to think that way. She knew she wasn't supposed to feel like it was her fault or she deserved it. So she kept her feelings secret, knowing she would look weak if she voiced them. She already felt weak for letting it happen.
So her letters stopped just short of all of this, and when she got too close she would put down her pen and go to her bed to cry-- no tears staining the paper-- and then she would take a shower. It was one good thing about this world... She could lock herself in a little room and sit under a constant spray of water. She could feel clean-- pretend she was clean. Pretend the water could wash everything away in its never-ending stream.
And when she came out of the shower, no one could tell she'd been crying.
* * *
Later that afternoon, Yuuri was no longer lying unmoving on his bedroom floor and was instead sitting unmoving in his office with his head on his desk. Murata had reminded him that he was a king and therefore had kingly duties, but Yuuri just... couldn't. He couldn't do anything. His brain was buzzing with exhaustion and too many thoughts. Murata kept gently trying to get him to at least appear to be functional-- had made him eat, and was now standing next to him and sighing.
When the door opened, Yuuri didn't bother to look up until he heard Murata say, "Sir Weller." He practically spat it out.
Yuuri raised his head just enough to see Conrad. He didn't look good. In fact, he looked as bad as Yuuri felt. He looked... disheveled, and there were dark circles under his eyes.
But mostly it was his expression.
Conrad didn't seem surprised at being attacked upon entering the room. He lowered his eyes as Murata continued.
"I was looking for you." He paused. "Although I hardly know what to say-- I can see that nothing I say to you will have the slightest effect on your future actions. And nothing you can say or do will even begin to excuse your behavior--" Murata's calm was disappearing. "And after you gave me your word!" He was getting louder, stepping closer towards Conrad. It was scary.
And Murata went on. "I don't know what it is that has made you into the lying, selfish, thoughtless and utterly stupid bastard you are and I don't care. But I do know now that you cannot be trusted as Shibuya's protector."
"What?" cried Yuuri. Was Murata firing Conrad? There was too much happening already-- It was too confusing--
"Your Majesty," said Conrad quietly, speaking at last. His head was bowed, but Yuuri could still see his tortured face. "I know that I am not-- have never been-- fit to be at your side. I've come to request that I be stationed elsewhere."
Yuuri hardly had time to register what he'd said before Murata shouted, "NO!" He looked, if possible, even angrier than before. "You coward! You will not run away from this! When Sir Belefield returns, he will not find that his brother has abandoned him again. You will be here. You will face him. You will not run away!"
There was silence. After a moment, Conrad straightened up into a military stance, though he still didn't look at either Yuuri or Murata. "Yes, Your Highness."
"You are dismissed," Murata commanded.
As the door shut behind Conrad, Yuuri let his forehead fall back on the desk with a thud.
"I hate this," he said. "I hate everything. Why is it like this?" Murata didn't answer. After a moment, he added, "Why did Conrad do that?"
"To you or to Sir Belefield?"
Yuuri's face heated against the wood of his desk. "I don't know-- Do you think it's the same thing?"
"I don't know," Murata replied. "But... Wolfram was much younger. His little brother. That's something... There was something wrong. Maybe Sir Weller was abused himself-- it's not uncommon for a victim to do the same thing, or something similar, to someone else. Maybe something else happened. We'll probably never know-- He might not know himself why he did it. I doubt he understands it any more than you do." A pause. "With you, I think it's something simpler. Then again... I also thought he would never act on it, and obviously I was wrong."
Something simpler. Yuuri didn't want to ask what Murata meant by that. He didn't want to know how Conrad felt about him if it was different from what he'd thought it was all these years. It was selfish, but he couldn't help it. There was only so much he could deal with at once, and he'd reached his limit several disturbing revelations ago.
Everyone was hiding so much! Yuuri didn't hide things like that. There was nothing--
Except that he his family didn't know what was really going on between him and Wolfram. But that was certainly not something he needed to be worrying about at the moment. It might even become a moot point, if Wolfram decided he was done and never came back.
Would that be easier? If he didn't have to think about Wolfram? Except, of course, he would. Yuuri was sure he would never stop feeling the way he did towards his husband. Even if he was too scared to touch him ever again, he could never stop loving him-- caring about him-- thinking about him every day.
He wanted Wolfram home.
* * *
On the evening of Wolfram's last full day at Belefield, Gertrude turned her efforts to collecting gossip. He wasn't surprised by any of it. She had always been jealous of him. When they were children it was because Wolfram's mother was the High Queen and he got to live at court and everyone thought he was the cutest thing in the world. Later, it was because her father allowed Wolfram to return to Belefield once he became the head of the family, despite the fact that Wolfram had chosen an inappropriate relationship with his half-blood brother over them.
So when she asked, while they were gathered around the fireplace after dinner, when he had fallen in love with Yuuri, Wolfram knew she was trying to trip him up. Especially when her husband's response was a smirking, "Dear, do you really think such a story would be suitable for the children?"
Wolfram cursed his pale cheeks, certain they were now red. He wanted to shout at them, tell them that he wasn't the courtesan they all thought he was, that he hadn't won Yuuri by performing or withholding whatever perverse sex acts they wished their spouses would do for them. He wanted to tell them--
But that was exactly what they were asking for, wasn't it? Something they thought he couldn't do: Make them believe that he truly loved Yuuri.
So Wolfram smiled. "It's a long story, but if you want to hear it, I'd be happy to indulge."
"Yes!" exclaimed Helen, clapping her hands. She was the eldest of the children, in her early sixties. She looked at him with the wide eyes of a young girl already dreaming of love. "I want to hear it! It must be so romantic!"
"Alright," said Wolfram, grinning, and trying to think of the best way to tell his story. Because his cousin did have a point-- he couldn't exactly talk about long nights spent painfully hard while Yuuri slept warm and innocent beside him...
Helen helped him, though. "When was your first kiss?" she asked eagerly. Now the other children were listening, too.
That was easy. "Not until the night that Yuuri announced the wedding date," he said, with a look at his cousins.
"But wasn't that just a few months ago?"
Wolfram nodded. "Yes. We were engaged for seven years before he finally told me he loved me."
"Wow," Helen breathed.
"How come?" asked Bertan, who had just turned fifty and believed he was no longer a child.
"Where Yuuri comes from, it's not acceptable for two men to be in love."
"Why?" asked Bertan again.
Before Wolfram could answer that he really had no idea, Helen sighed again. "Forbidden love..."
"But it's not forbidden here," said her brother.
"To Yuuri, it was," Wolfram said.
Bertran thought about this for a minute, while Helen looked dreamy. Finally, he said, "Isn't he a half-blood? I would be more worried about that."
"Bertran!" his sister hissed, looking mortified. "You can't say that about the High King!"
"No, it's true," said Wolfram. "And at first I didn't like it. I was raised like you." He shot a glare at Gertrude, who had the decency to look embarrassed. "And, actually, that's how it started. I insulted his mother because she's Human, and he slapped me for it."
"But on the left cheek?" said Helen excitedly.
Wolfram nodded. "He didn't know it was a proposal for marriage." He decided to skip over how Yuuri had tried to take it back, and the duel, and how Yuuri had tried to take it back again but Wolfram hadn't let him because it was his chance to be king.
"So it was a mistake," said Bertran.
"Yes," Wolfram admitted. "But it worked out." He wasn't sure what to tell next... "I moved in with him." He had to look into the fire, away from his audience. "And I fell in love with him." Somewhere between trying to seduce Yuuri in his bed and trying to keep rivals away from him in the day, it had backfired and Wolfram stopped being afraid of losing his position and started being afraid of losing Yuuri.
"When did he fall in love with you?" Helen asked.
"... I don't know," said Wolfram. "But I think it was long before he admitted it."
"And when he did you had your first kiss!" she said. "That's so romantic!"
Wolfram smiled.
"So what about before that?" Bertran asked, the cynicism gone from his tone. "You stayed even though you didn't know he loved you back?"
"Of course he did!" Helen cried. "He was in love! He had to stay, even if it hurt, because being near his beloved was still better than trying to live without him--"
"Well," Wolfram interrupted, his face burning, "there were a lot of reasons I stayed. Mostly it was because I knew he needed me. And soon Greta came into our lives. I couldn't have left when we had a daughter together."
Helen didn't seem to be listening to this. But she looked back up at him now, and asked, hands over her heart, "Did you ever give up hope that he would love you back? Did you think you might have to endure the pain of unrequited love forever?"
He wished she would stop talking like that. He hesitated a moment before answering. "Yes," he said simply. "But... like I said, it worked out." Which was sort of true, because things had been working for a few short weeks... "He married me after all."
"It was a beautiful ceremony," Gertrude commented. "The kiss was an... interesting touch."
Wolfram blushed again. "That's a tradition where Yuuri's from." Jennifer had been the one to bring it up, and of course Wolfram's mother had loved the idea, and Wolfram had really had no trouble giving in to their excited insistence, though Yuuri had been reluctant.
It had been beautiful. Most Demon weddings were-- with the sun and the moon both on the horizon, and the stillness-- the pause-- the moment of peace that marked the occasion. But at his own wedding, Wolfram could hardly pay attention to any of that. Yuuri was so beautiful, Wolfram was so happy... I love you, he whispered. Just for Yuuri. Just that once. Only for Yuuri.
"It was so romantic," said Helen. "I'm going to do that when I get married."
"You will not," her mother snapped.
"But the High King did it--"
"We don't do everything he does," said Gertrude emphatically, with a look at Wolfram. "Now, I think it's time for bed."
"But he's leaving tomorrow!" Helen protested.
"I wanna hear the rest of the story," said Bertran.
Gertrude gave them both a sharp look. "They got married. The story's over."
"Can we come visit?" asked Helen.
Wolfram smiled. "Of course. Whenever your mother allows it."
Gertrude made a sound that quite clearly stated such a time would never come.
But it was nice, how the children liked him. And as they headed off to bed, he was sorry to see them go.
He missed Greta.
* * *
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