Of all the things that filled Wolfram with dread on their arrival in Trebic, Bersi was not among them. Seeing the older man waiting at the docks to greet the Shin Makoku ship made his burden feel much lighter and his mood shift just slightly up from foreboding anxiety to something a bit more hopeful. As much as he trusted Yuuri, Wolfram had dealt with the nobles before. Not all of them were as progressive as their king had been. Many still held tight to their prejudice against mazoku. Most loved their traditions and did not welcome change.

On the wood slat docks, Bersi's tired eyes squinted into a smile as he clasped Wolfram's shoulders. "You left here my betrothed and returned as another man's bride. Now I know how Yuuri felt," the loud man joked, winking at the mazoku king as he moved on to clasping his hands in greeting. "Congratulations. I hope you're prepared, though. We're to assemble immediately. There isn't much time to discuss our plan but in the ride there."

"My plan is your plan," Yuuri told him.

Bersi smiled still. "Then we can enjoy the ride to the castle with far less debate."

Down the ramp Iorund came, pulling his sash straight as it caught in the braid of his beard. He did not look happy to see Bersi. He stopped a few feet away as Sir Veleif finished his greeting to Conrad as well. The noble shook his head, disapproval evident but hard to pinpoint.

"You should never have sent him away, Veleif."

Bersi's smile changed from cordial to snide as he leaned back on his heals, eyeing the well dressed man. "And whose job was it to keep an eye on him, Sturla? I'm sure the others are very pleased with your performance."

The noble's cheeks and nose burned red as he turned away and walked to his awaiting carriage. "Nothing which has happened cannot be undone," He called back. "I will see you there." The carriage sagged slightly under his weight then took off at great speed towards the central road to the castle.

"An odd choice for Wolfram's retainer."

Bersi chuckled, slapping Conrad on the back. Wolfram was a little pleased to see even Conrad stumble forward slightly at the force of it. "Well, I didn't chose him for his manners. Never liked the man myself but he's well suited as a noble head. He loves his country and has no aspirations to attain higher position. He is also one of several nobles who met to accept the general's claim to the throne."

Wolfram bit the inside of his mouth to maintain a straight face, feeling Conrad and Yuuri's eyes suddenly on him with uncomfortably intensity. Conrad's hands made fists, one raising to rest comfortably on the cool hilt of his sword. "I hadn't know that was his relation to things."

"Because it's not important," Wolfram reminded him, casting Yuuri a warning look while he was at it. He hated those large, black, puppy-dog eyes almost as much as he loved them. He needed Yuuri to be confident, strong and fierce on this day, though. Standing on the dock looking pitiful was not helping to build on that. He grabbed Yuuri by the shirt front and pulled him towards their own carriage. "Don't be a wimp in public; they'll eat you alive in that council room if you look this weak."

Yuuri stumbled to follow. "Geya~h, Wolfram! I can find the carriage without the help!"

The squawking and awkwardness didn't make Wolfram feel any more confident about presenting the juvenile king to the nobles.

On approach the footman bowed and held open the door to the covered four seater, pristine white with details of swirling waves in gold on all sides. The scarlet interior was plush, the drapes over the windows making it a dark, warm place. Wolfram let Yuuri walk inside on his own, following him and sitting to his side as they waited for the other two to join them.

Yuuri put his hand on his thigh, leaning close to whisper. "I'm sorry. I thought you were just being a brat to that guy because he had to follow you around."

Wolfram scowled, sitting with his arms crossed. "I was."

The carriage pulled away towards the castle with Conrad and Bersi seated together opposite them, a short ride made even shorter by the haste of the driver. There were a few cheers from the people on the street as the familiar carriage went past. Yuuri continued to pull the drape back to look out the window, mostly failing at being inconspicuous.

"Do they know?"

Bersi shook his head, his mustache ruffling over his lip. "They know Wolfram has returned but news of your marriage has been kept a secret within the inner sanctum since Lord Sturla sent word of it. I can guarantee you they will be pressing you to retract your intentions and annul the marriage."

"They can try." Yuuri pulled the curtain back again, blinking with his usual naivety at the faces on the streets. "As long as Wolfram returns home with me, I don't really care what we have to do or say but right now, I think the only thing that's going to assure that is this marriage."

"You'll hear no argument from me. I do have one favor to ask, however."

Wolfram eyed his commander, wary of any changes with so little time left.

Yuuri was immune to worry, though, it seemed, and nodded eagerly, "Anything. I'm indebted to you for all your help."

With his hands clasped and his head bowed just slightly, Bersi took a deep breath before making his request: "Please let this be Trebic's decision."

Wolfram blinked, his apprehensions fulfilled. "How exactly is he supposed to do that?"

"I understand it is much easier to simply walk in there, tell them you're king and that things are going to change, then leave me in charge and return home. However, doing so leaves our government in a rather hostile position. Even if my supporters do believe that nominating our rulers is the way forward from here, they will not be as willing to proceed if it is mandated by a foreigner."

Yuuri sighed, letting his head roll back against the cushioned backrest. "So it's a matter of pride, I guess. That's fine. We'll figure it out as we go."

"Yuuri," Wolfram said with warning.

"You're either very confident or the voyage has left you worn down." Bersi scratched at his beard, still smiling though his faith in the matter seemed to wane. "Either way, it's the lion's den we enter now. You have my full support."

Yuuri smiled at his friend, the carriage coming to a halt. The lions den indeed, Wolfram thought.

They followed guardsmen inside quietly and quickly to the grand chamber where the council of nobles met. Wolfram knew the room well. Before Alfgeir's death he'd only one occasion on which to enter: the announcement of their marriage. Many of the older men had not been pleased with their maritime ceremony; faces grim as they passed on words of congratulations. The same old men had offered true enough condolences in the days and weeks after the deaths as they explained why Wolfram inherited nothing but the powers they could not strip him of. It was as hard to forgive them as it was to truly blame them. Wolfram knew first hand how hard letting go of prejudice was. It was easy to think of all humans as being hateful and selfish when faced with the judgmental looks of the noble council. Remembering Alfgeir made it much easier. Not all humans were blind fools; just the gathering of men he was to be faced with once again for another roaring argument.

It was a large room with tall windows facing out towards the sea and a perfect view of their ship anchored there. In the middle of the room was a large, round table perfect for shouting and tossing tankards of ale across. The old wood was stained with liquor and blood, knotted in age and nicked along the edges from less civilized discussions involving blades and axes. In the chairs around it sat eight men, Lord Strula among them and one of the youngest of their brood. There was one chair left vacant, a seat not reserved for a king but for a partner in their discussion. Keeping his head held high and posture as erect and proud as possible, Wolfram walked past the scorn filled faces towards the raised platform which faced the table and upon which sat two paired thrones. Wolfram sat in the lesser of the two; his rightful place. Bersi gestured towards the open chair to Yuuri while Conrad took his guard at the door.

Yuuri looked confused as he eyed the table's arrangement. "So wait, where's your seat, Bersi?"

"Commander Veleif is not a noble," one of the men waiting replied, his eyes sagging under the weight of their wrinkles.

Bersi pulled out the chair for Yuuri to sit, his view thankfully including that of the thrones. "I was appointed by Wolfram as head of our militant forces after the siege. As he says, it's CommanderVeleif now. I'm here only as Wolfram's adviser in the absence of a human king and in the interests of national security."

Yuuri looked up at the thrones, Wolfram praying he wouldn't do or say something weak so early in their meeting. Yuuri smiled just slightly, though, nodding towards the empty seat to Wolfram's right. "I take it there's a good explanation for why that's not my seat instead?"

A general murmur of discontent circled the table. Wolfram returned his smile. It wasn't perhaps the greatest strategy but it certainly put the nobles in their place.

"That," an older gentleman with mostly white hair, Lord Ulfeid, said, "is the very matter we are all here to speak on. Please be seated, You Majesty, so that we may begin."

Yuuri nodded and took his seat, looking very small and frail amongst the larger men who had as many pounds as they did years on him and then some. His black hair was nothing like their various shades of red, from golden strawberry to blood. He was every bit as foreign as he looked. In a battle fought with words, he was very nearly as alone as he looked as well.

Yuuri cleared his throat, face already betraying the slight nervousness that kept his hands tucked out of sight. "I guess... to start with, I should be very clear on one thing: I don't wantto be your king. I have my own country to rule and there is no way I could spend my time equally between the two and no reason I can see for Trebic to not be ruled by its own people in its own way."

"Well, then, that makes things much simpler if we're all agreed on that issue," Lord Asdis said, leaning back in his chair with his fingers woven over his large belly. "Retract your intentions and we can cut out early."

Yuuri shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I'm not going to do that. It's unfortunate that something very personal has very important political ties to you. There are a lot of things I will compromise with you on but my relationship to Wolfram is not one of them."

The murmur rose again as the noble men leaned over armrests to mutter amongst themselves. Bolstered by their validated indignation, murmurs became outbursts leveled at Yuuri from all sections of the table.

"I find your blatant disregard for our traditions to be insulting."

"Is this how the mazoku treat their allied nations?"

"And just what do you expect us to do now?"

"What gives you the right to claim your selfishness as more important than our nation's needs?"

Yuuri, to his credit, did not shrink away from their shouts. He sat perfectly still, listening to each cry with a respectfully passive expression. He did not move to interrupt or interject, allowing each man to say his piece as he waited for a moment of silence through which to speak again. The nervousness was gone. Yuuri was the rare sort of man who flourished best in adversity. Though the situations were rarely those in which Wolfram delighted to find themselves, he did enjoy seeing Yuuri in his element. It was in those times that he became confident and self assured, strong in every meaning of the word with a spine of forged steel. He loved his wimp, but he loved watching him prove him wrong in that sentiment all the more.

When the echo of the last man's angry call rung its last through the high ceilings, Yuuri leaned forward, hands no longer hidden and instead spread out in front of him. "I understand that this is troublesome. It's not my intention to make a mockery of your traditions or exploit loop holes for my own gain. I'm here with nothing more than a small, simple request: please let me be with the person I love. I don't ask that as a king but as a man, as just plain Yuuri Shibuya. I would pay you any sum for his freedom but I'm afraid as Yuuri I don't have a single piece of gold to my name. I don't come from a noble family. I wasn't raised as you all were with a background in politics and court protocol. Where I come from you grow up, choose the kind of job you want, work hard, fall in love, and get married. I guess I'm still pretty naive but I think everyone is entitled to that no matter who they are."

"That is naive, yes. There are always sacrifices to be made by any and all born into privilege." Lord Asgaut leaned forward as well, laying his tankard back on the table with a slosh. He was one of Wolfram's least disliked of the nobles. "Now, no one is saying you can't love His Majesty. It is practicing that love that is the issue. If you revoke your intentions, there is no reason why you can't continue this... affair discretely."

Yuuri shook his head. "There is every reason why I can't and won't. I don't desire to be your king but if I have to be in order to make sure we're all being fair about this then I will be."

"Fair? What is fair about further disrupting our entire nation's attempts to recover from our ordeal with even more set backs? First Zorashia and now this?" Lord Sturla asked.

Lord Leiknir continued. "Your Majesty, we've been very patient but it's high time we crown a true king for Trebic. We've agreed that Commander Veleif will be most suitable."

"For a king, yes, but Iam the prince consort's husband and there will be no other marriage."

Lord Gerimund pushed his chair back, standing with his fist pointed to the throne. "Wolfram, this is treason!"

The room grew silent. Wolfram cast a discriminating glance across the room, searching the familiar faces for signs of resentment. It was there, clear and obvious in their fearful gazes as they let the words hang without challenge. So this was their trump card, their only resort left to combat an unwanted king. Wolfram was not about to sit for any court on charges of treason. He stilled his anger, swallowed his pride. As much as he wanted to point his own fingers at the crowd, it was not the time nor place nor would it probably every be. "I have betrayed no king or country. I'm doing exactly as Alfie would have wanted me to," he said. The rumble of dissonance continued.

"His royal highness would have wanted his kingdom to persevere!"

"And it will," Wolfram assured them.

"At what cost?" Lord Herjolf demanded. "Our traditions, our values, our very way of life?"

Wolfram opened his mouth to continue the debate but stopped as Bersi's hand fell to his shoulder.

"Well, I can tell you one thing Alfgeir would have done differently were he here," The commander said, walking down past the thrones to the table's side. "He'd have treated Wolfram like a person and not an object for starters. This is a shameful way to treat a hero of our country and I'm embarrassed that we have done so and in the presence of our closest ally no less. I say if we're going to continue to treat him as something that can simply be shared out or purchased, we call him a gift and give him back to the people who gave him to us."

Lord Leiknir glared though many others sat quietly in their shame. "Watch your tongue, Bersi," the lord warned.

"You take offense to that, eh? And how offended were you when you accepted that blasted general as our king? You would rather a king slayer and rapist take the throne than accept the wishes of two people in love who would prefer to leave the ruling powers with us."

Several more faces looked away, unable to meet Bersi, Wolfram or even Yuuri's eyes as they became fixed on the tabletop and the tankards of lager before them.

Bersi shook his head, fists planted on his hips as he scanned those who still mustered up the pride to challenge him. He looked livid. "Must I remind you again that it was humansthat got us where we are now and mazoku who helped us stay alive to be here? Your continued insistence that anything King Yuuri can contribute is wholly against our ways and nature is utterly ridiculous and as out dated as many of these so called traditions. I say abolish the notion of a royal family; make the throne an elected seat to be occupied by worthy individuals nominated by this council. You dislike King Yuuri then enjoy the power to oust him before he ever comes close to being your true king. Never again can a foreign conqueror become our legal representative by our own tired traditions. Let the people continue to enjoy them but let the crown rest only on the heads of those we deem worthy."

The rumble of feet stomping under the table made its rounds in place of the familiar murmur. Wolfram listened, somewhat amazed, as it seemed most of the old men seated pounded their soles to the stone. They agreed with Bersi. Whether fueled by guilt or the fear of being ruled by Shin Maoku's king, the old men were receptive and willing to change.

Most but not all. Lord Strula put his palms down on the table, standing up for a moment as though he knew he was now among the minority and tasked to convince far more than just Bersi and the foreigners. "You wish for us to be more like our allies. It's the same as being conquered by the mazoku to adopt their own political structure."

Bersi scoffed, mustache twitching. "The world is changing and we must all change with it. Look what a stubborn, prejudice blood line has done to Big Cimarron. They are now so paranoid they cannot remember what it was they were fighting in the first place. They chase ghosts and ideology with canons and swords, cutting through their own intentions in an attempt to swat the phantasms they create. And her people can do nothing but bow and obey because they must. Even if it is akin to Shin Makoku's political structure, it is us who govern it and allied though we may be, Yuuri, what we do in our own borders is our own business."

Yuuri sat up straighter as he was once again called into the conversation. He looked confused for only a moment before his brow set into a hard, stubborn line and he gave the commander a curt nod. "I understand," he said.

The few remaining men who held contention exchanged glances over the table.

Bersi circled them with a long, even stride. He challenged every man's stare with his own, his voice a booming rattle as it bounced among the rafters. "Now, either we can vote and decide for ourselves that we wish to continue down this path, or we can hold to our traditions and bow to Yuuri as our king and accept whatever he decides. Though I consider King Yuuri a friend and ally, I would prefer our crown to stay within our borders. Let us not take what fate hands us and do this for ourselves."

Soles hit stone again, this time in greater numbers. The stampeding sound of footfalls rattled the furniture, tankards sloshing over with froth. A few men belted out a low, bass lines-none of them carrying the same note. The stomping grew faster as more voices joined in a chorus that was as much battle cry as it was song. Fists struck the table as did empty tankards to add to the cacophony the hollow thunk of an empty cup. It was loud and chaotic and Yuuri seemed completely lost in the middle of it as every man seated beside and before him carried on in the same manner. The sound became unanimous, Bersi lifting his arms into the air as he drummed his feet on the stone where he stood.

They'd done it.

Wolfram relaxed into his chair, one he knew now he would never be asked to sit upon again. Even confused as he was, Yuuri seemed to understand the noise was a good thing as he met Wolfram's slumped posture with his own goofy smile. He'd done it. Not alone, not without help, but still, somehow, his presence alone seemed to make miracles happen. Wolfram returned the smile as the noise settled and they returned to business. The meeting might have been far from over, but for Wolfram it did not matter anymore. He had the answers he wanted. The rest was inconsequential.

"Now then, for our first order of business: the honorable retirement of Prince Consort Wolfram von Bielefeld Havard."

It was nearing nightfall when the carriage returned them to the docks. No amount of convincing could keep Wolfram or Yuuri from leaving immediately after the meeting. As much as the nobles would have preferred Wolfram to have attended the formal coronation of King Veleif, Bersi could not blame him his haste in leaving. He saw them to the docks himself, lending them what was now his carriage as they proceeded in their departure.

"I'm sorry I wasn't much help," Yuuri apologized, shaking the king's hand as they disembarked from the white and gold buggy.

Bersi chuckled, patting him hard on the shoulders. "You gave them something to fear that was greater than the fear of change itself. You were instrumental, Your Majesty. Just perhaps not in the way you had thought you would be."

Yuuri smiled, rubbing at his now sore shoulders as the new king turned to Wolfram with a sad and tired expression.

"I wish I could honestly tell you I am happy to see you go. I know it is for the best, though I still think you would have been very good for us here." Bersi clasped his shoulders much more gently than usual and leaned a kiss against his cheek, mustache whiskers tickling against his skin. Wolfram closed his eyes, not sure why he felt his chest tighten with the older gentleman's sentiment. Bersi gave him a soft squeeze. "You won't be forgetting us here, I hope."

"I'll never forget." Not the good, nor the horror. Wolfram didn't bother even trying to force a smile with his reply and to his credit Bersi seemed content without one. He nodded, hand caressing Wolfram's cheek for a moment, then offered his hand to Conrad for the last of his goodbyes.

Yuuri took Wolfram's hand, holding it tight. They waved as the carriage pulled away, their ship already stocked and ready just in case a more hasty escape had been required. They boarded her without delay, returning to the waves as though the day's ordeal had been a dream. It felt like a dream.

Leaning at the railings on the starboard side, Wolfram still could not believe it was really over. For all their planning and debates, surely there was more to come. He half expected a ship to meet them over the horizon, an envoy sent to charter him back on a recall. It was nothing but black water under an amethyst sky as the sun twinkled out at twilight. It was beautiful but not so much as to dismiss the foreboding feeling Wolfram could not shake.

Conrad leaned against the rails beside him, a sense of déjà vu adding a chill to the night air. He was quiet and contemplative, had been for days. He was biding his time, Wolfram knew, until there were less important things to discuss than his relationship with Yuuri. Yuuri was always his top concern; as he should be. Wolfram almost felt like asking him outright to just come out with it already. Waiting to be told off was almost worst than having to defend himself. He'd grown too accustomed to his brother's smiling face. His straight face had the tendency to make Wolfram feel almost guilty.

"Well, what is it?" he asked finally, unable to keep to the silence.

Conrad smiled faintly at last, his fingers raising to stroke back a piece of Wolfram's hair. "Just thinking."

"You look upset when you're thinking."

"I was thinking about you."

Wolfram stood perfect still to hide the wince, looking down at the obsidian waves. "And that makes you upset, does it?"

Conrad nodded, hand falling from his hair to his shoulder. "Only when I think about all the things I could have done to change the way things have gone."

"You think about foolish things." Wolfram shook his hand off, trying not to scowl.

His brother chuckled softly, no humor in the sound as his hands clasped the wooden rail. "I suppose so," he said, looking down as Wolfram tried to ignore him. "Do you blame me? Or Gwendal?"

"No." He didn't even need to give it a second though; they had all done exactly what their positions had designed them to do. If he started blaming them, he would have to blame himself as well. He would rather put all the blame and hate solely on Big Cimarron for what they had done to both his past and future. Wolfram didn't feel any need to explain, though. They were brothers. Once they reached Shin Makoku, things would be as they always had been, as though nothing had even happened. Many things were simply best left unspoken. Gwendal was a true master of that art. The older Wolfram became, the more he saw the brilliance of it. Still, he was not his oldest brother, and so he gave himself some concessions. "I love you," he said, "And Gwendal. Let's just keep going. There's no time to sit and think about the past."

Conrad was quiet for a long moment, the rustle of the wind whistling over their ears. He wrapped his arm around his little brother's shoulders, forgetting the previous shrug, and pulled him close to his side. Wolfram resisted only slightly, making sure to trip more than lean into his brother if only for his pride.

"Oh no, he's not getting sick again, is he?"

Wolfram turned his head, looking over his shoulder at Yuuri who frowned in worry, blanket in his arms.

"Do I look like I'm getting sick?" he asked.

Yuuri smiled slightly, throwing the blanket over his own shoulders as he walked over, draping the other end over Wolfram with Conrad's assistance. Wolfram pulled his end around, thankful as much for the warmth of Yuuri's own body as he was for the blanket. He stood close, pleased to feel Yuuri's arm slide around his back underneath their warm shield.

Conrad smiled at them both, giving them some room. "You know, you're not married anymore," he noted. "Haven't been since they deposed Wolfram."

"Well, we never were in Shin Makoku anyway. The engagement is still on, though," Yuuri said with a shrug. He smiled at Wolfram, nudging him with his hip. "How long do you want this engagement to be? I don't really know how long your weddings take to get started but I think back home it takes about a year."

Wolfram nodded, doing his best not to scowl. A year; a whole, wasted year.

Or perhaps not.

Wolfram let the blanket go and grabbed his brother's hand, gaining his immediate attention. "Conrart, will you be my witness and family representative again?"

The soldier stared at him for a moment in confusion, understanding finally hitting him with a frown. "Wolfram, there's no need to elope. Everyone at home is in support of your relationship."

"No one has to know but us. This is between me and Yuuri. We can already be married and still have a proper wedding for Mother and everyone else. Will you be our witness, Conrart?"

Yuuri cocked his head slightly as he looked at his fiance. "Wolfram, what are you talking about?"

"Marry me," Wolfram said, almost demanded. He stood closer, Yuuri's wide, surprised eyes the only thing in his vision. "I've spent long enough being engaged to you in the past. The ship's captain can marry us right here, right now. It'll be our secret. I can wait a year for the big, fancy ceremony but I can't wait that long to know without a doubt that you and I are legally bound."

Yuuri stammered slightly, his flushed cheeks made rosy by more than just the wind. "I... I mean, yeah, I'll marry you, but... are you sure? What about-"

Wolfram kissed him, hands on his face, holding him still as he pressed close to him, lips making demands with much the same insistence as his words. Yuuri folded to him with the same ease, returning his kiss with nervous surrender.

Conrad cleared his throat. "If it's for your peace of mind... It would be an honor to serve as your witness again. Though I do wish you would reconsider."

"Well, we pretended to be married when we really weren't. I guess it makes just as much sense to get married and pretend we haven't," Yuuri said, readjusting the blanket over Wolfram's shoulders. "I feel the same. I don't want to lose you to another man; by choice or by circumstance. Let's get rid of that option."

"You'rethe cheater."

"I'mnot the one who broke off the engagement in the first place."

"You wanted to."

Yuuri kissed him softly. "Not anymore."

They gathered the captain in his quarters, a quiet aside where even the crew would not hear. Under the light of the moon which presided over their vows through the large windows of the aft, Yuuri took Wolfram's hand as Wolfram took his. There was nothing to exchange but promises, nothing on the line save for the honesty of their hearts. This the moon saw and this the moon approved.

The ship sailed on towards the home shores of Shin Makoku the same as if nothing had happened. In the scheme of things, it didn't matter in the least. The sun would rise and the gulls would fly whether or not two lives were joined. For those two lives, however, there was no world outside themselves for a moment, and for a moment nothing mattered but themselves. Whether for seventy years or a thousand, even if there was no one else to observe, there would always be a moment in time waiting to be remembered that belonged to them alone.

The waves rolled and the wind whispered and the ship sailed on. Everything and nothing changed. And the ship sailed on.

Well, I lied; this is the final chapter of the story. I'll get the whole thing beta read eventually now that it's done. I hope you're not too disappointed and that you got what you were hoping for from this story. I'll probably post a bonus chapter of just plain, PWP smut at some point but it might not come until I've already started on the next one. I really wanted to have this done for Christmas but alas. Better late than never.

Thank you,

~Niko