Kyou Kara Maou- "Matchmaker"
Title: Matchmaker
Universe: Kyou Kara Maou
Theme/Topic: N/A
Rating: PG
Character/Pairing/s: vaguely GwendalxGunter, Conrad, Yuuri (light ConxYuu maybe?)
Warnings/Spoilers: UM for the end of the series I guess. Kind of? Also, OOC like woahs. But whatever. XD
Word Count: 1,868
Summary: Yuuri has many, many duties as king.
Dedication: for sherrymarie’s birthday! I am late like a BASTARD.
A/N: Wow I am out of practice with KKM. I hope this does not suck too bad. O.o It was fun, if nothing else. XD And it makes me feel better about getting NOTHING ELSE DONE all day. >> Anyway, I might continue this as a sort of mini series if I’m so inclined, but for now, this is just the first installment of what might tentatively be called the “Year Long Love” series. For my own reference. >>
Disclaimer: Not mine, though I wish constantly.
Distribution: Just lemme know.
It began with a festival.
And, like all strange Shin Makoku traditions, Yuuri’s poor handling of the ensuing events.
The yearly spring celebration was a week long festival that celebrated the renewal of life in the country as plants and animals were just beginning to come out of their winter slumbers and the world was being made brand new again-green and fresh and beautiful. This was perhaps, a common theme in the human world around this time as well, but Shin Makoku always seemed to take things just a step further than Yuuri’s home world when it came to its most favorite rituals.
And so, because spring was considered the season of life it was also considered the season of love, and in Shin Makoku, that could only mean one thing.
Matchmaking.
Matchmaking as done by the king himself no less, by way of an age old ceremony performed for all those nominated in their respective neighborhoods and villages as the most “hopeless in matters of the heart.” It was tradition that on the last day of the festival, the king of Shin Makoku himself would look down on those of his citizens who their communities claimed were unlucky with regards to love and from amongst their group, choose the person they would spend the following year with, in the hopes that a strong and wonderful love would blossom between the newly matched couples (much like the flowers that were beginning to open up with the coming of the warm season). It was all rather symbolic and rather ridiculous as far as Gwendal was concerned, because it meant blindly dedicating a year of your life to a complete stranger and being made to spend three hundred and sixty five days with that person trying to fall in love, when under other circumstances, you might not have said so much as two words to each other in your entire lives.
But all the participants believed in the ritual with all their hearts, because it was the maou himself (or herself) who was personally helping them build their futures. The maou was the one who they believed would lead them on the correct path in any aspect of their lives, after all, and so it was easy enough for them to trust him with the care of their hearts as well.
To be honest, Gwendal thought it all sounded rather ludicrous. Yuuri (when he was sober anyway) was inclined to agree.
“Pish! Many happy and long-lasting unions have sprung from this tradition,” Gunter assured the young king after he had voiced his concerns, and upon their arrival at the festival, the hopeful looks of all the participants made it very, very hard for Yuuri to say no, despite his reservations regarding the matter as a whole.
The fact that the festival also included plenty of apple-cider wine making its debut from the previous fall’s apple harvest might have helped in melting the young king’s trepidation as well.
But only because it was also a tradition that there be no other beverage imbibed during the week amongst the adults of Shin Makoku. The children received bubbly apple cider, and as delicious as that sounded, Gunter assured the young king that he was of age to take part in the drinking of lots, and lots of wine, and as such, would be expected to by his people.
That (in short) was how this whole mess all started-element after element piling up against Gwendal- and by the final day of the celebration, when Yuuri was well into his cups (however unwillingly), it just seemed that all hope of getting away unscathed from the festivities was lost.
“Don’t be such a fuddy-duddy, Gwendal!” Gunter chastised him-also drunk-as they waited for the matching ceremony to begin. “It’s a festival! Your brow is making that horrible little vee you get whenever you’re contemplating doom and gloom. Really, how boring of you.”
Gwendal grunted. “I have a bad feeling about this,” he said simply, and watched as Conrad very calmly kept Yuuri from tipping over.
Gunter let out an undignified sounding kind of snort at that and moved to lecture him some more, but dissolved into giggles instead, before subsiding a bit against Gwendal’s side. “My, I’m dizzy.”
Gwendal sighed and steadied him with his arm-the last time this had happened and he’d let Gunter prop himself up against his shoulder like this he’d ended up with the idiot falling asleep standing up and not long afterwards, the other man’s drool all over the sleeve of his jacket.
He sighed. “Gunter, don’t drink so much next time,” he felt the need to say (hopeless as his efforts were), just as the festival chairman called everyone to attention for the beginning of the matching ceremony.
“Oh, Gwendal,” Gunter murmured as everyone began to gather around the stage, “you really ought to learn how to get into the festive spirit.”
He wasn’t sure why, but those words made Gwendal’s bad feeling somehow seem even worse. He bore it stoically however, and could only hope that the matching ceremony would end without any sort of major incident.
Yuuri handled himself fairly well considering the fact that the townspeople had been plying him with wine for a good six and a half days now, and with his finger in the air and a rather goofy smile on his face, the young king began his duty with a stirring, “I hope all of you will be very happy together!”
Everyone cheered.
And then the first girl was presented, and Yuuri smiled and said she was very pretty and he remembered that she danced well and loved to laugh (perhaps a bit too much), because they’d danced together briefly, while Wolfram hadn’t been looking. Yuuri matched her with a nice young man who was almost as serious as Gwendal was.
“They’ll balance each other out well, ne?” he surmised, and no one could really argue with the king, even if he was pretty drunk. At the very least, his first couple of the afternoon looked quite handsome standing side-by-side.
After that, pair after pair of young people were put together at Yuuri’s discretion-partners for a year-before the very last was finally joined with his significant other and all was (presumably) finished.
Gwendal let out a small breath of relief that that rather silly bit of business was done with, and that soon they could all go back to the castle and get some real work done.
His relief was short lived.
“Aw, that’s all?” Yuuri said when he was done, and looked around, thoughtfully. “I was getting pretty good at that towards the end, I think!”
The townsfolk laughed at their good-natured ruler, and taking his cue, the chairman stood and said, “That’s all unless anyone else has a nomination they’d like to make. Anyone else you know out there who’s a bit lonely?”
The crowd laughed.
And Gunter was still, very, very drunk (which really should have warned Gwendal of his impending doom, especially considering the circumstances).
But it didn’t. Or perhaps did not warn him fast enough, because not a second later Von Christ was raising his hand, still giggling rather uncontrollably to himself as he did. “I have a nomination!” he declared, and Gwendal felt the blood in his veins go absolutely cold.
It probably didn’t help that Yuuri was also still rather drunk, because he simply grinned back and said, “Yes, Gunter!” like this was the sort of thing that happened at the spring celebration all the time (it wasn't, by the way).
But the crowd cheered some more, like it was.
Conrad only blinked and exchanged a helpless look of knowing dread with his elder brother from across the grounds as he (correctly) surmised what was going to happen next.
“I nominate Gwendal!!” Gunter shouted, and patted his current support-beam on the shoulder cheerfully. “In all the years I’ve known him I have never seen him solicit anyone’s affections the entire time! And we’ve known each other for quite a long time!”
A general murmur of surprise rose up at that-everyone rather thought that such a handsome noble would have had hundreds of ladies and gentlemen alike falling at his feet on a daily basis, it seemed.
Gwendal felt himself flush very, very subtly at the intense scrutiny. “Gunter, I think the festivities are over,” he began, sensibly. “You’ve had too much to drink.”
“I agree!” Yuuri responded, and stumbled a bit.
Gwendal was very relieved.
Again, too soon.
“With Gunter!” Yuuri finished, once he’d regained his footing. “Gwendal really is too serious sometimes.”
The crowd cheered.
The vein in Gwendal’s forehead popped out, and he gritted his teeth as Gunter continued to pat him on the shoulder simply because he’d forgotten to stop.
Conrad coughed then, gently. “Your majesty,” he began, “Gwendal can’t be matched unless there are any other nominations, and since there aren’t I think…”
“Easy, easy,” Yuuri interrupted, with a wave. “I nominate Gunter! ‘Cuz during all the time I’ve known him, he’s the only one who can make that little vee in Gwendal’s forehead pop out without being killed afterwards!”
More laughter from the onlookers.
Gwendal bit the inside of his cheek as Conrad tried once more, to draw the king away from his sudden “inspired” matchmaking declaration. “Your majesty…they already spend most of the year together as is and…”
“So it makes it very easy,” Yuuri sniffed. “And look, they’re already standing so close to one another. It looks good, ne?”
Everyone turned and looked.
And there was very little Conrad could do about that, despite valiant efforts.
Gwendal felt that blush from earlier starting to intensify under the townspeople’s collective gazes. He tried to be dignified about it. “Sire, I’m quite sure this will not work,” he began, calmly. “As officials of the state we don’t have the time to…”
From next to him, Gunter huffed. “Clearly Gwendal doesn’t fancy me, heika!”
Everyone gasped.
Gwendal remembered that his friend was also a noble, and a very pretty one at that.
He had a headache.
Yuuri grinned. “I’m sure he fancies you lot, Gunter!” the young king assured his pouty-lipped adjutant. “Just give it a year, ne?” He laughed heartily. “Man, I’m good at this.”
“Hai, heika!” Von Christ twittered, because his dear king could never issue an order that was wrong. And they were both still very, very drunk.
Gwendal didn’t say anything more after that, because he was busy biting the inside of his cheek.
Which was taken as acquiescence, apparently, because after a moment, everyone cheered.
“There! Now we’re done!” Yuuri said, sounding self-satisfied and giggling to himself almost as much as Gunter was.
Gwendal-in an uncharacteristic act of vengefulness-wished them both horrible and painful hangovers come morning time.
They finished the matching ceremony with a dance that involved all of the new couples parading down the main thoroughfare together, and halfway through their pass, Gunter threw up all over Gwendal’s shoes.
He bore it as stoically as he could, despite the fact that he was fairly certain it was going to be a very long, very trying year.
END
EDITS PLZ.
Universe: Kyou Kara Maou
Theme/Topic: N/A
Rating: PG
Character/Pairing/s: vaguely GwendalxGunter, Conrad, Yuuri (light ConxYuu maybe?)
Warnings/Spoilers: UM for the end of the series I guess. Kind of? Also, OOC like woahs. But whatever. XD
Word Count: 1,868
Summary: Yuuri has many, many duties as king.
Dedication: for sherrymarie’s birthday! I am late like a BASTARD.
A/N: Wow I am out of practice with KKM. I hope this does not suck too bad. O.o It was fun, if nothing else. XD And it makes me feel better about getting NOTHING ELSE DONE all day. >> Anyway, I might continue this as a sort of mini series if I’m so inclined, but for now, this is just the first installment of what might tentatively be called the “Year Long Love” series. For my own reference. >>
Disclaimer: Not mine, though I wish constantly.
Distribution: Just lemme know.
It began with a festival.
And, like all strange Shin Makoku traditions, Yuuri’s poor handling of the ensuing events.
The yearly spring celebration was a week long festival that celebrated the renewal of life in the country as plants and animals were just beginning to come out of their winter slumbers and the world was being made brand new again-green and fresh and beautiful. This was perhaps, a common theme in the human world around this time as well, but Shin Makoku always seemed to take things just a step further than Yuuri’s home world when it came to its most favorite rituals.
And so, because spring was considered the season of life it was also considered the season of love, and in Shin Makoku, that could only mean one thing.
Matchmaking.
Matchmaking as done by the king himself no less, by way of an age old ceremony performed for all those nominated in their respective neighborhoods and villages as the most “hopeless in matters of the heart.” It was tradition that on the last day of the festival, the king of Shin Makoku himself would look down on those of his citizens who their communities claimed were unlucky with regards to love and from amongst their group, choose the person they would spend the following year with, in the hopes that a strong and wonderful love would blossom between the newly matched couples (much like the flowers that were beginning to open up with the coming of the warm season). It was all rather symbolic and rather ridiculous as far as Gwendal was concerned, because it meant blindly dedicating a year of your life to a complete stranger and being made to spend three hundred and sixty five days with that person trying to fall in love, when under other circumstances, you might not have said so much as two words to each other in your entire lives.
But all the participants believed in the ritual with all their hearts, because it was the maou himself (or herself) who was personally helping them build their futures. The maou was the one who they believed would lead them on the correct path in any aspect of their lives, after all, and so it was easy enough for them to trust him with the care of their hearts as well.
To be honest, Gwendal thought it all sounded rather ludicrous. Yuuri (when he was sober anyway) was inclined to agree.
“Pish! Many happy and long-lasting unions have sprung from this tradition,” Gunter assured the young king after he had voiced his concerns, and upon their arrival at the festival, the hopeful looks of all the participants made it very, very hard for Yuuri to say no, despite his reservations regarding the matter as a whole.
The fact that the festival also included plenty of apple-cider wine making its debut from the previous fall’s apple harvest might have helped in melting the young king’s trepidation as well.
But only because it was also a tradition that there be no other beverage imbibed during the week amongst the adults of Shin Makoku. The children received bubbly apple cider, and as delicious as that sounded, Gunter assured the young king that he was of age to take part in the drinking of lots, and lots of wine, and as such, would be expected to by his people.
That (in short) was how this whole mess all started-element after element piling up against Gwendal- and by the final day of the celebration, when Yuuri was well into his cups (however unwillingly), it just seemed that all hope of getting away unscathed from the festivities was lost.
“Don’t be such a fuddy-duddy, Gwendal!” Gunter chastised him-also drunk-as they waited for the matching ceremony to begin. “It’s a festival! Your brow is making that horrible little vee you get whenever you’re contemplating doom and gloom. Really, how boring of you.”
Gwendal grunted. “I have a bad feeling about this,” he said simply, and watched as Conrad very calmly kept Yuuri from tipping over.
Gunter let out an undignified sounding kind of snort at that and moved to lecture him some more, but dissolved into giggles instead, before subsiding a bit against Gwendal’s side. “My, I’m dizzy.”
Gwendal sighed and steadied him with his arm-the last time this had happened and he’d let Gunter prop himself up against his shoulder like this he’d ended up with the idiot falling asleep standing up and not long afterwards, the other man’s drool all over the sleeve of his jacket.
He sighed. “Gunter, don’t drink so much next time,” he felt the need to say (hopeless as his efforts were), just as the festival chairman called everyone to attention for the beginning of the matching ceremony.
“Oh, Gwendal,” Gunter murmured as everyone began to gather around the stage, “you really ought to learn how to get into the festive spirit.”
He wasn’t sure why, but those words made Gwendal’s bad feeling somehow seem even worse. He bore it stoically however, and could only hope that the matching ceremony would end without any sort of major incident.
Yuuri handled himself fairly well considering the fact that the townspeople had been plying him with wine for a good six and a half days now, and with his finger in the air and a rather goofy smile on his face, the young king began his duty with a stirring, “I hope all of you will be very happy together!”
Everyone cheered.
And then the first girl was presented, and Yuuri smiled and said she was very pretty and he remembered that she danced well and loved to laugh (perhaps a bit too much), because they’d danced together briefly, while Wolfram hadn’t been looking. Yuuri matched her with a nice young man who was almost as serious as Gwendal was.
“They’ll balance each other out well, ne?” he surmised, and no one could really argue with the king, even if he was pretty drunk. At the very least, his first couple of the afternoon looked quite handsome standing side-by-side.
After that, pair after pair of young people were put together at Yuuri’s discretion-partners for a year-before the very last was finally joined with his significant other and all was (presumably) finished.
Gwendal let out a small breath of relief that that rather silly bit of business was done with, and that soon they could all go back to the castle and get some real work done.
His relief was short lived.
“Aw, that’s all?” Yuuri said when he was done, and looked around, thoughtfully. “I was getting pretty good at that towards the end, I think!”
The townsfolk laughed at their good-natured ruler, and taking his cue, the chairman stood and said, “That’s all unless anyone else has a nomination they’d like to make. Anyone else you know out there who’s a bit lonely?”
The crowd laughed.
And Gunter was still, very, very drunk (which really should have warned Gwendal of his impending doom, especially considering the circumstances).
But it didn’t. Or perhaps did not warn him fast enough, because not a second later Von Christ was raising his hand, still giggling rather uncontrollably to himself as he did. “I have a nomination!” he declared, and Gwendal felt the blood in his veins go absolutely cold.
It probably didn’t help that Yuuri was also still rather drunk, because he simply grinned back and said, “Yes, Gunter!” like this was the sort of thing that happened at the spring celebration all the time (it wasn't, by the way).
But the crowd cheered some more, like it was.
Conrad only blinked and exchanged a helpless look of knowing dread with his elder brother from across the grounds as he (correctly) surmised what was going to happen next.
“I nominate Gwendal!!” Gunter shouted, and patted his current support-beam on the shoulder cheerfully. “In all the years I’ve known him I have never seen him solicit anyone’s affections the entire time! And we’ve known each other for quite a long time!”
A general murmur of surprise rose up at that-everyone rather thought that such a handsome noble would have had hundreds of ladies and gentlemen alike falling at his feet on a daily basis, it seemed.
Gwendal felt himself flush very, very subtly at the intense scrutiny. “Gunter, I think the festivities are over,” he began, sensibly. “You’ve had too much to drink.”
“I agree!” Yuuri responded, and stumbled a bit.
Gwendal was very relieved.
Again, too soon.
“With Gunter!” Yuuri finished, once he’d regained his footing. “Gwendal really is too serious sometimes.”
The crowd cheered.
The vein in Gwendal’s forehead popped out, and he gritted his teeth as Gunter continued to pat him on the shoulder simply because he’d forgotten to stop.
Conrad coughed then, gently. “Your majesty,” he began, “Gwendal can’t be matched unless there are any other nominations, and since there aren’t I think…”
“Easy, easy,” Yuuri interrupted, with a wave. “I nominate Gunter! ‘Cuz during all the time I’ve known him, he’s the only one who can make that little vee in Gwendal’s forehead pop out without being killed afterwards!”
More laughter from the onlookers.
Gwendal bit the inside of his cheek as Conrad tried once more, to draw the king away from his sudden “inspired” matchmaking declaration. “Your majesty…they already spend most of the year together as is and…”
“So it makes it very easy,” Yuuri sniffed. “And look, they’re already standing so close to one another. It looks good, ne?”
Everyone turned and looked.
And there was very little Conrad could do about that, despite valiant efforts.
Gwendal felt that blush from earlier starting to intensify under the townspeople’s collective gazes. He tried to be dignified about it. “Sire, I’m quite sure this will not work,” he began, calmly. “As officials of the state we don’t have the time to…”
From next to him, Gunter huffed. “Clearly Gwendal doesn’t fancy me, heika!”
Everyone gasped.
Gwendal remembered that his friend was also a noble, and a very pretty one at that.
He had a headache.
Yuuri grinned. “I’m sure he fancies you lot, Gunter!” the young king assured his pouty-lipped adjutant. “Just give it a year, ne?” He laughed heartily. “Man, I’m good at this.”
“Hai, heika!” Von Christ twittered, because his dear king could never issue an order that was wrong. And they were both still very, very drunk.
Gwendal didn’t say anything more after that, because he was busy biting the inside of his cheek.
Which was taken as acquiescence, apparently, because after a moment, everyone cheered.
“There! Now we’re done!” Yuuri said, sounding self-satisfied and giggling to himself almost as much as Gunter was.
Gwendal-in an uncharacteristic act of vengefulness-wished them both horrible and painful hangovers come morning time.
They finished the matching ceremony with a dance that involved all of the new couples parading down the main thoroughfare together, and halfway through their pass, Gunter threw up all over Gwendal’s shoes.
He bore it as stoically as he could, despite the fact that he was fairly certain it was going to be a very long, very trying year.
END
EDITS PLZ.