Don't hold it all inside

Wolfram could not sleep. This night he wore a pair of pyjamas instead of his usual frilly nightgown. He got up from bed quietly so not to wake his daughter, and headed towards the library. He did not want to read, he just wanted to be alone – even though Greta was asleep. Looking out of the library window he saw nothing but heavy rain. The raindrops drumming the window was giving him a headache but Wolfram had something else to ponder.

It was a bad week for the blond. The weather had not been on his side, Yuri was not around, Greta was sick with a fever and he himself was having a cold and a fever. There were some nights that week that Greta had called for Yuri. Wolfram understood how much she wanted Yuri but he could not shake off the feeling that he was unwanted by her even though he loved her as a father would love his daughter. He knew she loved him, but...

Wolfram hated this jealousy!

It was fine if Yuri was talking with other pretty men or women, but if Greta was involved it felt very unfair. He could even not shake off the feeling that he did not deserve to be loved by her. Even when he tried to keep telling himself that it was the cold talking.

On the top of all that, he knew what the common folk called him behind his back. He was fine with it before, but now... The Ten Nobles, including Gwendal and Gunter, once had agreed to have him as the twenty-eighth Maoh before they found that Yuri was able to travel between the two worlds with his own power. Recently, he heard Gunter call him 'Little Lord Brat' again.

Before he would not have minded. But now... how could Gunter say such a thing if he had agreed for Wolfram to be Maoh?

Or was he forced to agree?

Wolfram had never wanted the throne, but to have Gunter and Gwendal agree for him to rule Shin Makoku showed their trust in him.

Apparently, he was wrong... Gunter still did not trust him.

"People of such behaviour do not change so easily," he heard a gossip say recently, "You're right, dear," said her friend, "How could a brat be a king?"

What was past was past, but the scar of the heart remained. Scars from childhood, despite his being spoiled; scars from the war between Shin Makoku and Dai Shimarron; scars from the loss of his teacher, Julia; scars from the thought of losing Conrad through death and betrayal, the one person he trusted above all who was near him. The list just went on and on... Wolfram sniffed.

He would not cry!

It was pitiful!

He was a soldier! And the Maoh's fiancé! As well as brother to the Lion of Luttenberg and one of the Ten Nobles! And nephew to another!

He was a Bielefeld! How could he ever let a cold and several pained thoughts crush him to the extent that he would want to shed a single tear?

Only babies cry! Well... in exception of Yuri. And Greta. As far as he could remember, Wolfram had only seen Yuri cry only about twice in his life, and Greta was strong for a person her age.

A long time ago, Yuri had said he was a brat. He knew he was a brat, but he did not feel like one any more, and Yuri did not seem to think so either. He felt like... a fiancé, and a father. Responsible ones at that. Had he not loved his daughter? Even though she was missing her other father? Had he not protected Yuri even if it meant to be near houryoku filled celestial crystal which weakened him?

"Wolfram?" a familiar voice called softly. The blond turned to see the last person he expected to see this night. For once, why won't Conrad leave him in his misery?

Conrad held the lit candle before setting it on the table of the library and walked towards his brother.

"Wolf," he called in his soothing tone of voice, "What are you doing up? Your cold is not..." Conrad stopped as he looked into Wolfram's green eyes. In the candle light, Wolfram looked much smaller and younger than he really was at that moment. Conrad could tell that something was wrong.

"Pup," he called gently, using the nickname he reserved when he and Wolfram were alone, "What's wrong?"

Wolfram turned away from Conrad, refusing to make eye contact. I'm not going to cry, Wolfram thought to himself, I'm not going to... A pair of arms surrounded him, turned him gently and pulled him close to a warm body. Familiarity crept up Wolfram's senses as he felt himself pulled close.

Conrad just held him – like he used to when Wolfram was a frightened toddler. He rubbed Wolfram's back without saying a word, telling his baby brother that everything was going to be all right, that he was loved. He let his fingers tangle in the wealth of his brother's blond hair, telling him he was safe.

Wolfram felt so safe and loved that he leaned against his brother and let his tears pour.

They stood for a long time. Wolfram could hear Conrad's soft heartbeat through his tears. Conrad just stood there and held him. After a while, the elder brother murmured his lullaby into Wolfram's ear in order to calm him as he allowed his baby brother to pour out all his doubts, anger and despair through tears. After a while, he poured the heavy contents of his heart. Conrad just stood there and listened as Wolfram talked about how he feared he did not deserve Greta's love, how Gunter had confused him by trusting him at first and then calling him 'Little Lord Brat'.

Wolfram coughed at one point and mumbled, "I don't know why this memory come up, and I know you came back. But it hurts back then, I forgive you but it hurts." Conrad nodded and allowed Wolfram to cry. Again he murmured the lullaby he had sung to Wolfram when he was little.

May ah eh ya...
May ah eh ya...

See two young wolves
Gazing in the moonlight

May ah eh ya...
May ah eh ya...

Cast away thy nightmares fright
Brother is here throughout the night

Brother's the moon
which comforts you
from the evil midnight spell

Brother's the trees
which you lean on,
as you walk the long long road

Brother's the rock
which shades you from
the scorching desert sun

Brother is here throughout the night
To cast away thy nightmares fright

When he finished the lullaby, Wolfram was no longer crying. He looked down to find Wolfram asleep against him.

Mr Perfect, as Yuri would call him, shook his head in amusement as he lifted his younger brother. He hoped no one would see him, or Wolfram, or the latter would never let the shame go away. Quickly, and quietly, he brought Wolfram back into the royal chambers where little Greta lay in bed, still asleep.

Conrad lay Wolfram beside Greta and stood, observing them for a moment. They looked so happy with each other, and very much like father and daughter. Conrad could hardly believe that this little girl had tried to kill her Father Yuri just about a year ago. Deciding it was best to stay in the room in case Wolfram missed him, Conrad pulled a chair and sat near the bed. He gently carressed Wolfram's cheek and ran a hand through Greta's hair.

"Pup," he whispered, a single tear flowing down his cheek, "Don't be like me... Don't hold everything inside, you'll only cause yourself more pain." He murmured his lullaby for the third time that night, allowing his soft voice to enter the ears of two of the people he cherished most in his life.