Kyou Kara Maou : The Pirate Wedding

Summary: Wolfram and Yuuri's second wedding attempt is waylaid by pirates. But – might they still get a child as a wedding gift? Sequel to any of my KKM fanfics so far.

Disclaimer: I have no rights to Kyou Kara Maou, of course.

Please review.

Update: fixed a couple unclear wordings (like, who was talking), fidgeted.

Chapter 12 : Marriage Before Wedding

Manfred woke ten hours later, not opening his eyes at first. Cheri was still there, still holding him, though she'd changed from her evening dress into one of his shirts. He'd heard every word Aldrich told her last night. But she'd stayed anyway – why? Probably just stubborn. That thought made the situation a little more comfortable, so he opened his eyes and turned, to see her glowing green ones trained on him, tousled blonde hair falling loosely around their shared pillow.

Cheri smiled, and gave him a leisurely good morning kiss, arms around his neck, scooting her body to lie along his. She rested her forehead on his to say her first words, carefully considered for such simple fare. "Good morning. How do you feel?"

"Much better… embarrassed. A bit stiff."

"Really?" Cheri felt for herself with a demonic little green gleam in her eye.

Manfred chuckled. "I didn't mean that way. Though… also that way…"

"Oh, good!" she said, immediately sitting up and pulling his sleepshirt off him. "I want to put my hand on you while you heal yourself. I love doing that! I want to see that maryoku signature again, too. I'd never seen your yacht signature before – it was Gratzberg Peak when you lived here with us. Don't you dare get shy, Manfred. And don't complain that it turns you on, because I'm counting on it. So, do I hold the handle here?" She grinned evilly.

"Such a sudden torrent of words, woman… No… hand on belly, there. And… signature focus yes, focus is going to be hard… Although, this isn't fair. You've got me naked and you're still wearing my shirt…"

Cheri swooshed off his large borrowed shirt in one smooth motion. "All better!" After a moment of preening to his appreciation, she prodded, "Focus, Manfred. Focus. Show me my yacht in orange and blue. And after you're done healing you a bit, I want some of those wriggly fire tendrils on me. I love the way those feel, lapping around…"

He focused. He healed himself. He set fire healing tendrils playing all over her, and they spent a long time making love. He snuggled to her bosom afterward, content.

"Manfred? Can we talk yet?" She took his murmur and rubbing cheek on her breast as a 'yes'. "I can see that what Aldrich suggested, worked. But I don't understand. You're one of the most intellectual men I know. So I've always tried to talk things out with you. Why was that wrong?"

Manfred sighed. "I'm… not an intellectual man at all. Or rather… I am, but it's because I hide there. I'm very physical, very emotional, pure fire healer. But… when my emotions hurt too much, I hide in the intellectual. The physical works better…"

As he toyed with her belly, she could feel the truth of that. Physically, they connected easily, and always had. Verbal sparring… easily slipped into battle royale. Huh. "You used to run," Cheri remembered suddenly. "Before your leg. You always ran a few miles in the morning. But if you came home upset about something, you'd run another few miles in the evening."

"Mmm, runner's high and swimmer's high work great. There are other physical releases…" He kissed the breast he was presently using as a pillow. "But if you try to talk to my head when I'm hiding in there because I can't face my feelings… things can go downhill real quick. Remember how Aldrich belabored, 'now Manfred, let's talk about what the word want means'? Aldrich knows me awfully well. But even he can't guess, what I think people are saying when I'm like that – he just knows that it's dead negative. I can't hear anything positive. I hear criticism no matter what someone's really saying, so it's hopeless to talk to me. The best way to reach me when I get that way, is to connect physically first, then emotionally, and intellectually last, if at all… Though I can't imagine why anyone would bother."

Manfred seemed unperturbed by that thought. That no one would care whether he felt well or badly, seemed to him the natural order of things. Cheri found that unutterably sad. And she knew damned well who it came from. "It figures Phoebe would give you the ultimate punishment for being elevated to Lord Bielenfeld. She delighted in your failures, relished kicking you when you were down. But nothing made her more furious than when you succeeded. I'm sure it hurt horribly, Manfred – no one deserves to be rejected by his mother! – but being disowned by her is almost a compliment."

Manfred sighed. "What's the point, Cheri? She's a miserable woman. She wanted a big affable dumb lug like Adeldan von Gratz, a 'real man', and was ordered to marry her own great-nephew instead, yet another 'runt-like hypersensitive intellectual', and a gay one at that."

Cheri winced. "Wolfred was gay?"

"Quite. She bullied him while they were growing up together, and they didn't like each other any better married. He was heir to Bielenfeld, so he begat a son because he had to. But he stayed away in the military every minute he could. She had petite pretty little me, the spitting image of a husband who had no use for her, while Sophie had big burly handsome Adelbert, the son she would have loved to have. I used to break my heart and body, trying to be Adelbert for her. But he's a bear, and I'm… not all that tough. Pretty tiny and fragile, actually."

Cheri smirked. "Are you trying to get my sympathy for your looks?"

Manfred smiled wryly. "Well, yes, humility aside, I do get rather good mileage out of my looks. Women don't seem to mind my being short."

Cheri snorted, then fell back to thinking about Phoebe. "That's so totally opposite of the way she portrays Wolfred…"

"Yeah, his life suffered some editorial revision after death… Or so I'm told. I barely knew him.

"But it's not all bad, being disowned. It was almost funny to watch, actually… in a hideous sort of way… Aldrich and I went to make peace with Friedrich. The hag was there, and got to tormenting me, and Aldrich and Friedrich got so pissed at her, they egged her on until she disowned me. Then they turned the tables and said she'd just disinherited herself – because I was still Lord Bielenfeld, heir of Lord Wolfred von Bielenfeld. So if she wasn't my mother, she was the one who forfeited his inheritance, not me. Friedrich demanded I strip her of everything, and forbid her to ever darken his doorstep again."

"Friedrich did? He stood up for you?"

"Sure. He's always been angry at how she treats me. He adored my father. And I didn't do anything to Friedrich – Aldrich's the one who ousted him. But even they made up with each other, by jointly screwing over my mother – they do so love these games, a real bonding moment... Anyway, it's nice to have my father's money, I guess. I was thinking of splurging a little. Cheri… are hydrofoils fun to sail? Just a little one, about the same cabin space as the yacht, not a lumbering tank on skids like Gwendal's. Would that be… dull?"

That would ride with a level deck, Cheri thought. At worst, he could use a wheelchair and still get around fine. "They're wonderful! A hydrofoil like that might even be faster than my yacht – much lighter without that massive keel. Not the adrenaline rush of the deck canted twenty degrees in a gale. But we're grandparents now, and that adrenaline rush never did go so well with babies. I think it's a great idea, Manfred! I so wished you were there at Gwendal's wedding! I kept thinking what a great party boat you'd built for me… Then I got stuck on deck with Frieda while everyone else jumped overboard. Do you have any ideas on taking the little ones swimming off the boat?"

"Oh, sure. A fine net, shallow-strung inside the pontoon on the shady side of the hydrofoil, would work. You'd attach floats to the babies, too, of course. Or better yet, use a dark canvas pool – then you can let it warm in the sun awhile before adding babies." He grabbed pencil and paper, perennially by his bedside, and sketched it out, in a fine drafting hand, lengths neatly indicated. "And a kiddie water slide… Hm, need to think about the big people water slide design. Maybe Annissina could help with that."

Cheri lay on her side and watched the man, happily designing a family party boat, her smile growing broader and broader.

"Um, what?" said Manfred, blushing slightly as he became aware of her rapt gaze.

"I love you, Manfred Lord Bielenfeld. There's no one left to forbid us to marry. You're not even too young for me anymore – you're old enough that it doesn't matter. Marry me, Manfred."

A number of emotions chased themselves across his face, happiness among them, doubt also strong in the mix. "…Why, Cheri?"

"I love you. I always have. You're a fun playmate, Manfred, and a phenomenal father. You had so little time with Wolfram… yet he got so much from you. We had so little time together. I never wanted to let you go… Oh, Manfred, I am so sorry…"

"Don't. You were right. And yes. Yes, I still want to marry you. I always have. But… I really scared myself last night. Cheri, please believe me… It hasn't been bad like that, not for decades. There was just… too much, all at once. But, when I get back hooume," he pronounced it as a gong of doom – he'd bolted from Castle Bielenfeld at Efram's age, after all, "I'll ask Friedrich to teach me to handle this better… I'm sorry. I've been wanting to spend some time studying healing under Friedrich, anyway. His experience is so vast, and my learning curve's kinda flattening out at the Institute." Of course it was – young though he was, he was already the leading healer there.

"Do that, love. But I'm not afraid of you. If all I have to do is shut up and hold you until you can handle your own emotions – that's easy."

Manfred chuckled darkly. "Conrad and Gwendal will hate this."

"Wolfram and Yuuri and Efram will love it. And so will our grandchildren." She grinned a little green-eyed demon grin.

"Deal, my love. My only love." His smile was the most genuinely happy smile she'd seen on him since Wolfram was a toddler.

-oOo-

Yuuri was late to his own parents' farewell party. He'd started the morning by taking back the reins of power from kindly Lord Wincott. Wolfram and Bertram came along for that – Yuuri wasn't dealing with the Lords this week without Wolfram by his side. But after that, he urgently needed to have a soothing sit-down with Ambassador Belarus of Mizrat, while Wolfram went back to family matters.

He sidled up to Wolfram, standing in the middle of the ballroom with Efram and Bertram. Yuuri nervously eyed a group over by the windows. Adelbert and Brendan von Gratz, Ted von Trondheim, Manfred and Aldrich von Bielenfeld, Gwendal von Walde, and Conrad von Weller, occassionally laughing and pounding each other on the back. "You know, a week ago, I would have seen that and thought, 'glad the guys are having fun'… Now I see half the votes of the Eleven over there..." he said in concern. "Ah, Efram… any idea what that's about?"

Efram looked at him appraisingly. "Got money?"

Yuuri gave him two of the silver coins that seemed to be the standard pay. Wolfram folded his arms and glowered at both of them.

Efram took the money. "They're figuring out where they'll see each other next, for Winterfair. Blood Pledge Castle was winning, last I heard." He flashed his pixie smile.

"You were suckered, Yuuri," Wolfram opined. "If he'd known anything worth knowing, he wouldn't have told you, no matter what you paid. If he did, I'd have thrashed him. Don't ask the children to spy for you, please. I won't allow it."

"Alright, I got it…" Yuuri sighed. "So, I've grown suspicious of our own family. That's terrible…"

"If you're expecting me to mourn your lost innocence, forget it," said Wolfram. "Working for an ignorant ruler is appalling. And that is half the power of the nation over there. I applaud your good sense in being nervous. Especially around Aldrich."

"But, Aldrich's our ally!" Yuuri protested. "He saved us from invading Mizrat!"

"Sure!" said Efram, pixie smile screwed up to maximum.

"Well, yes," said Wolfram. "But, not because he cared about Mizrat. Yuuri, we need to sit down and have a nice long chat about my cousin Aldrich." The last of this was whispered, as the demon himself was walking towards them, the power guys meeting having broken up.

"He's beautiful!" said Aldrich, peering into Bertram's basket. Bertram was wearing his 'dress-up basket' today, the one Wolfram wove to support Maou Yuuri as a father. Aldrich ruffled Efram's hair. "Gotta love those whacky Krist hair colors. Nice new suits, young cousins. But Wolfram, strictly speaking, unless it's a formal state occasion, your military uniform takes precedence over the flashy heir-wear."

Manfred had Wolfram's tailor make new elevated-rank suits for himself and his sons, and they were all wearing them today. Aldrich spoke from experience, having worn either commander or heir's Bielenfeld blue uniform every day for the past 140 or so years. He was reveling in the opportunity to wear anything but blue – today he'd picked his mother's von Trondheim brown and scarlet. Aldrich didn't comment on Efram Zarelle's flashy new von Bielenfeld outfit.

"So, Efram," continued Aldrich, "now that you've had a taste of action, are you going to join the military? Lots of room for promotion – Bielenfeld has only two commanders left."

"One," corrected Manfred, joining them. "Aldrich, Wolfram is dressed correctly. He resigned his commission."

Wolfram swallowed, still a bit ashamed in front of the real Lord Bielenfeld-to-be. Yuuri put an arm around him. "Wolfram's decided to concentrate on raising our children and being my political advisor." Wolfram shot him a grateful glance.

But Aldrich broke into an enormous grin. "Congratulations, Wolfram! You made it out alive and in one piece! It's been a long time since a von Bielenfeld came out of the deal so well, eh, Manfred?"

Wolfram had to hand it to Aldrich – he was good at wrapping people around his little finger. "Thank you, Aldrich. May it be a new trend."

"I'm trying my best to put all the Shin Makoku military commanders out of business," said Yuuri. Wolfram twitched just enough to remind him, That's the sort of comment Wolfram advises me to stop making. Oh, yeah. Bielenfeld and Gratz, the two most militant domains of Shin Makoku. A ruler not appreciating the military's sacrifices… No, that wouldn't go over well…

"Actually," Manfred forcibly changed the subject, "Efram is also correctly dressed." This was news to Efram, who looked up in mistrust. "I've secured your mother's blessing, Efram. If you're willing, I declare you Efram von Bielenfeld."

"Really?" the boy breathed, his face lighting up.

"Really!" said Manfred, hugging him close. "Aldrich, you did suggest I could abuse my powers as Lord Bielenfeld half a dozen times this year…"

"Of which you still have a half dozen to go – in my opinion, your family is your affair. Welcome to the aristocracy, Efram." Aldrich tousled his hair again. "And congratulations, Manfred, now all your sons are von Bielenfelds. Ah, look! Cecilie looks ravishing today." And Cecilie came up to join them just as Gwendal and Conrad drifted over.

"Cecilie," Manfred greeted her. As soon as they were in reach, they slapped each other on the face simultaneously and shared a hug. "Wolfram, Efram, Yuuri…"

"Conrad, Gwendal…" added Cheri. "Manfred and I have decided to get married." Everyone in the room applauded, some only to be polite, though as Cheri predicted, Wolfram's crew was honestly delighted, and threw big hugs around both of them.

As Manfred predicted, Conrad and Gwendal looked… dubious. They hugged both Cheri and Manfred, less than enthusiastically. Annissina arrived and compensated for her new husband's lukewarm response. Aldrich and the other cousins and the Shibuyas also congratulated them, with varying mixtures of enthusiasm and misgivings.

"Have you set a date for the wedding yet?" asked Wolfram.

"We'll elope and send you a card," replied Manfred.

"We'll do no such thing!" said Cheri and punched him fondly. "I want a huge wedding and a gorgeous wedding dress!"

"Well, if you'd enjoy my family and your brother duking it out…"

"Ah, I see your point," conceded Cheri. "But… maybe we could just invite my side of the family, and still have a big wedding. The men on my side aren't nearly as problematic."

"Yes, I've noticed that, Cecilie. The men in your family are tame, emasculated, and really quite well behaved. Try it on me and I'll lash you to the bed, woman."

"Promises, promises, Manfred!" Cheri replied, green eyes flashing dangerously, uncoiling the white whip she wore looped three times around her hips, as a belt to her little white dress of the afternoon.

Gwendal and Conrad bridled at Manfred's comments. But Manfred's bearlike blond cousins Adelbert, Brendan, and Aldrich all happened to be behind him, Ted von Trondheim towering behind, all with arms folded, and looking mortally offended at the suggestion that they be disinvited to Manfred's wedding. Though Yuuri personally found the petite Wolfram look-alike at their center more intimidating. Cousin Aldrich looked particularly intent on just what Cheri expected to do with that whip.

"I so love a gorgeous wedding dress!" Miko cluelessly offered into the middle of this. "Oh, I was so disappointed not to get to see my Yuu-chan in his pretty kimono."

"I was relieved not to see my beautiful Wolfram in that oversized toadstool costume you bought for him," opined a cross Cheri. "Yuuri should stick to men's clothes – he doesn't look nearly as sexy in a dress as my Wolfram."

"How dare you! My Yuu-chan is much prettier in a dress than your Wolfram! Tell, her, Shouma!"

"Ah, Miko-chan, I don't want to tell people that Yuuri looks pretty in a dress…" said Shouma, scratching his head in the gesture both his sons picked up from him.

"Thank you, Shouma," said Manfred, with gusto. "I'd really rather not see Wolfram in a dress either, touch-me-not toadstool or ravish-me-now vamp, thanks…"

The women were not distracted. Cheri advanced on Miko. "Your Yuuri is prettier than my Wolfram? In your dreams!"

"Yuuri is much prettier than Wolfram!"

Shouri muttered to himself, "It's no wonder Wolfram turned into a, a seducer of my innocent little brother, raised by a hussy like that."

Gwendal, directly behind him, said, "What did you call my mother?"

Shouri spun in horror. "Ah, um… I didn't mean…"

"We should stop this before someone draws blood," suggested Wolfram.

"Spoilsport," said Manfred, with an evil green-eyed demon smile. "But if you insist…" He raised his voice. "Cecilie, I know what we should do for our wedding!"

"Oh, it's all up to you, is it?" yelled Cheri, wheeling on him.

"Well – sure. You remember those islands off Khrennikov? With the phosphorescent jellyfish in August? That the yacht was too deep for, and we got stuck that time?"

"Oh!" said Cheri, completely hooked. "Oooh."

"I can finish up the design of the hydrofoil this fall, lay the keel by Winterfair, shakedown cruise in June… Then we take everybody on a family vacation there for the height of glowing jellyfish season, and get married then. And we just invite whatever family we really want to spend a week's vacation on the boat with."

Cheri flew into his arms for a hug and kiss, "I love this idea!"

"I thought you might," said Manfred. "Now, about that whip of yours, woman…" They eddied out of the general hubbub at the center of the room, for a more intimate conversation accompanied by a playful game of tug-of-war with the whip, which they appeared to be enjoying immensely.

Yuuri decided to save Shouri, still quaking before Gwendal's glower. "Ah, aniki – could I get you to take some pictures of the children?"

Snagged by others along the way, Shouri was delayed taking other posed shots while the children patiently waited under Efram's supervision. "Come on, Frieda, you can say it," encouraged Efram. " 'Chichiue', and 'Wimpue'. Ch-CHU-way, u-WIMP-way."

Greta giggled. "Chewwwy," Frieda eventually managed. "Wimmmpy."

"Excellent, Frieda! Oh, so you're so smart!" Bertram started to fuss, so Efram handed off Frieda to Greta and picked the newborn up out of his basket. Murata came over to admire Bertram, touching a finger to those irresistable miniature digits. Bertram immediately turned his beautiful crescent-moon deep aquamarine eyes on him, and smiled. Well, newborns supposedly don't know how to smile. But his lips quirked up – perhaps it was gas.

"Sh-!" Murata exclaimed in shock, but caught himself in time. "Ah, what a… beautiful baby you are, Bertram."

Giesela and Wolfram wandered over. Wolfram reached for Bertram just as Giesela, in lovestruck newlywed bliss, came into Murata's arm and gave him a kiss.

Bertram flamed her.

"Wolfram von fucking Bielenfeld!" Giesela hissed. "You taught him to do that!"

"Barracks language is not appropriate here, Sergeant. And I did not. What is your problem, Giesela?" He crooned to Bertram, "No, sweetie, you can't go flaming people. What did she do to upset you, hmm? Are you hungry, sweet one?"

Yuuri, drawn quickly by Giesela's revived hostilities toward Wolfram, came to pose them all for a picture, waving urgently for Shouri to get the camera over here. Yuuri held Greta and Frieda on his lap, arm around Wolfram as well, who held Bertram.

Goofing around, Efram joined the family portrait, putting his head on Wolfram's shoulder. For this test shot, Efram suggested, "Bishounen smile practice, fire healer halos ON!" Wolfram laughed and went along with it. Bertram seemed to pick up the spirit of the thing and glowed as well, eyes on Murata behind Shouri. As the camera shutter closed, Greta was clambering up Yuuri's thigh for a better look, grinning, Frieda was caught in one of those rare beatific baby smiles, and Yuuri was caught in astonished wide-eyed delight.

Shouri took a lot of pictures that afternoon – most of them more politically correct. The one with Yuuri and Wolfram and all the kids and grandparents and Adelbert and uncles and the two couples who did get married that week – photo taken by Brendan – was the official best shot, and graced the walls of both pairs of grandparents.

But the one Yuuri loved the best, and felt got the emotional truth down best for him, politically correct or not, was that first shot. Wolfram and himself, with those four children – three matching blond fire healer demons glowing to the left, and three human and part-Mazoku, of mismatched skin and hair colors, grinning to the right. That picture, he had Shouri get developed on the finest fade-resistant paper with protective glass, and kept on his desk for the rest of his reign as Maou.

Regardless of when Yuuri's wedding finally came – he didn't much care – he counted the beginning of his true marriage to Wolfram, from the pirate wedding that never was, when they began to raise those four children together. Two adopted, two fostered. Two demons, two not. All, along with Wolfram, the delight of his life.

-oOo-

A year and a half later, Wolfram sat writing invitations at his desk by the windows in the nursery. Frieda was crawling around playing with blocks. She grew prettier every day, with long wavy brilliant orange hair. Adelbert was home about half the time these days. The nursery was her home, no matter which fathers were around on a given day. Bertram was cuddled to Wolfram in a baby sling, having recently outgrown his baskets. The two of them rarely spent a full hour out of each other's touch when Bertram was awake.

What with two babies to care for, his role helping Yuuri guide his busy and changing kingdom, and Manfred and Cheri's wonderful family vacation and wedding over the summer, he'd been too busy to plan another wedding. But that week in the gorgeous islands off Khrennikov had inspired him. He'd gotten back to it, much slowed by Bertram and Frieda and the endless adventures of Efram, who still chose to stay with them until Manfred finally returned to teaching at the Institute next semester.

Wolfram addressed the last invitation. "Third time's a charm!" he whispered.

Bertram narrowed his beautiful aquamarine eyes into little crescents, and smiled.

-oOo-

The End.

Not.

-oOo-

Illustrations for this story include Wolfram's wedding dress, Manfred and Cecilie when Wolfram was little, Manfred and his buddies, and the family photo, glow vs. non-glow.

Manfred and Cecilie's wedding happens in the next story, Wolfram and the Phoenix, where we check in on how Wolfram's doing with that Mommy job. Except he takes a break and runs into a magical legend.

-oOo-

Check out my published fiction: End Game. Set in Connecticut, this near-term SF adventure is pre-apocalyptic, where ordinary people choose extraordinary ways to face a climate and world gone haywire.

And my non-fiction: Indoor Salad: How to Grow Vegetables Indoors, E-Cigarettes 101: How to Start Vaping, a smoker-friendly guide, and E-Cigarettes 102: DIY E-Liquid, how to mix your own. Available in softcover and ebook at Amazon.