Voiceless

Title: Spectacle

Pairing: Wolfram X Yuri

Rating: M

Chapter Warnings:

Summary: Pre-Wedding jitters, but will Wolfram mistake them and reenact the runaway bride?

Chapter Number: #37

Author Note: Wanted to upload sooner, but I had a wretched virus that ate my internet access. XP antimalware 2010. I spent four hours trying to fix it on my own before my personal tech expert explained the simple “Last Known” Config. to fix it. Then it came back, so I downloaded Malwarebytes free version, while I kept XP antimalware 2009 at bay by canceling it (ave.exe) the second it popped up on the task manager screen, and so far so good. Here’s a chapter for all of our suffering.

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Wolfram ran his fingers through his hair as he eyed his reflection in the looking glass and scoffed. He hated the white suit his mother had forced him to ware. It washed out his skin and made him look paler and made his hair look that much less bold. It was as if the heavy coat and pants put a translucent white film over his entire form. He wondered what type of outfit Yuri was wearing. It wasn’t one of their customs to avoid seeing each other before the ceremony, but in Yuri’s world it was, and since Yuri was the Demon King, whatever he wanted happened.

He had had his brothers for company for almost an hour as he dressed and readied, but they had both slipped away to perform the other duties of Yuri’s “earth wedding”. There were supposed to be “bride’s maids” Wolfram was told, but when he selected the three household maids Yuri told him they weren’t really supposed to be maids. They argued for almost half an hour before Yuri admitted that he was wrong. Why else would they be called maids!

Wolfram huffed at the very memory. Matrons, maids, groomsmen, best man, mother-of-the-bride, father of the groom…flower girl… many positions, less than half of which were fully filled. With Anisina as his “Matron of Honor” and Conrad as Yuri’s “best man” and Greta functioning as this odd tosser-of-flowers…The only sane thing seemed to be Lady Celi having a seat in the front row. There was no “father of the groom” present, and Wolfram almost felt bad about it. He would’ve felt worse if Yuri didn’t insist that there would possibly be another wedding, or a ceremony like it, on earth if they visited.

Immediately after the ceremony they were going to leave. The meet-and-greet, as Yuri kept calling it—the filler for their never-to-happen reception dinner, had gone over well. The important guests all greeted them and wished them luck and happiness in their marriage. Yuri had seemed embarrassed the entire time, and Wolfram didn’t know if that embarrassment stemmed from the Demon King’s dislike for large crowds and being the center of attention, or if he was ashamed of his fiancé. While Yuri was busy being shamed or embarrassed, Wolfram was doing his best to contain his sheer joy. He’d learned that the happier he appeared the less comfortable Yuri became. He called them pre-wedding jitters, but Wolfram had a fear that they would become permanent.

That’s why, when he was called to enter the hall to be married, he hesitated. The attendant returned after two minutes of his absence and called for him again. Wolfram moved towards the door with the three steps it took for the attendant to believe that he was following him and then stopped again.

He could hear the murmur of the crowd as all of them whispered at once. They were able to shrink down the guests to only those of importance who had previously been acquainted with the demon king or Wolfram, but there were still so many. So many people expecting a wedding that Wolfram didn’t know if he could go through with.

Yuri didn’t want to get married, Wolfram thought. He didn’t know exactly why Yuri was doing this to himself, but Wolfram decided that he wasn’t going to do it too. If Yuri didn’t want to marry then he wouldn’t make him, no matter how much the very thought ate him from the inside out. If Yuri didn’t want it, it wasn’t fair to make him. It wasn’t…

“He’s having second thoughts?” Wolfram heard someone whisper loudly outside the door. It made him flinch. They didn’t feel like second thoughts, they felt like thoughts he should have been having all along. Then there was gasping and Wolfram fumbled backwards a step in surprise.

What was happening? There had been a gasp and then there was ruffling, as if the people were all moving at once. No one was screaming, but numerous ladies could be heard gasping “oh” or “ah”, but not in pleasant shock or surprise. What had happened? Had someone fainted? What if it was Yuri? Wolfram moved towards the door briskly, but when his hand grasped the doorknob, he had a second thought. What if it wasn’t Yuri? What if it was just someone else? What if someone had simply said something obscene and he hadn’t heard it in his thoughts? If someone had spoken against him and he barged out alarmed he’d look like a fool. But what if it was Yuri?

He couldn’t take that risk, and he knew that. So he opened the door, his eyes squinted, close to closing, as if trying to block whatever scene would appear. To shield himself from the faces that would turn his way. But, when he moved through the doorway his lowered head collided with the bone of a black-clad shoulder. Before he could back away a hand discretely grabbed him by his arm, turning their bodies so that the grasp would go unnoticed by the gaping crowd.

“Yuri,” Wolfram half whispered half gasped, knowing that the black would only be worn by the Demon King and recognizing his scent and gentle, but demanding, grip.

“Are you alright?” Yuri asked quietly, holding Wolfram tightly. Wolfram turned his head to catch his eyes, to read whatever emotion was showing in them, and was greeted with delicate concern. Yuri looked slightly embarrassed, slightly worried, and just a little bit happy. “What?” Yuri asked, observing Wolfram’s startled eyes.

“Nothing,” Wolfram stammered, pulling away gently. Yuri allowed Wolfram’s arm to leave his grasp and allowed his hand to fall freely to his side with subtle movement. Everyone was looking, but he was desperate not to make more of a show. “You just look…happy,” Wolfram said meeting Yuri’s eyes, his surprise melting into a sort of calm bliss.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Yuri asked. His lips curled into a soft smile and Wolfram felt himself turning crimson. (A shade that he was sure looked brighter against his pale suit.) “I’m getting married today. Aren’t you?” Wolfram looked at him in a sort of haze. Was he being asked if he was happy or if he was getting married? He didn’t have time to think too deeply. He didn’t want to make a spectacle. If Yuri was happy then it was all right, wasn’t it? He needn’t sacrifice his happiness and his dreams if Yuri was content with the situation. Maybe he really just didn’t like being the center of the attention, or to be in front of such a large crowd.

Wolfram nodded lightly and watched as Yuri’s smile warmed like sand touched by the sun.

“Then let’s go.” He took Wolfram’s hand and pulled him towards the center aisle, his hand shaking in Wolfram’s with nerves; at least nerves was what Wolfram hoped they were. He lead him down the aisle that had been covered in flower petals, blooms, and leaves by Greta who stood eagerly at the side of the aisle’s end, leaning forward to see beyond the people who stood as the Demon King and his future husband passed. Wolfram was contented to keep his eyes focused on them as they whizzed beneath his feet and his attention focused on the warm hand in his own.

When they reached the end of the aisle and climbed the few small steps towards the altar where a man of power stood and rambled on words that Wolfram couldn’t hear, he was more than contented to find both of his hands resting in Yuri’s hands which were shaking subtly. His heart was racing and he was surprised that no one else was asking where that god-awful thudding noise was coming from. Was it supposed to feel that way? Like a cocktail of uncertainty, fear, embarrassment, elation, and too much alcohol to see straight? When the time came that he had to raise his eyes from the floor and look towards Yuri’s face he was almost unable to manage it.

Then he didn’t have to when Yuri pulled one of his hands free and revealed a small box from his pocket and handed it to Wolfram who stared at it in both awe and horror. People mumbled and Wolfram’s hands began to shake as he reached for it. He lifted the lid and saw a second ring, much like the first except for its band was made of gold instead of silver and, instead of a stone, its band had an unusual jag forward, like an arrow that would point towards his finger tip when he put it on. However, when he lifted it out it caught on the light cotton it rested in and revealed a third ring beneath it which had a similar jag in it as well. Yuri grabbed both rings from Wolfram’s fingers, taking the box, and its cotton, and stuffing it back into his pocket nervously and placed the two rings atop each other, showing how the grooves fit together. One bent outwards so the other curved with it perfectly, altering its path for the sake of the other.

Wolfram almost asked if it meant Yuri was altering his path just because he’d asked it of him, or because he wanted to, but he was interjected by the ring that was slid onto his finger and the other that was put in his hand. Wolfram stared at it for a minute before Yuri thrust his hand towards him gently. Flushing, Wolfram slid the ring onto the ring finger of Yuri’s left hand tried to ignore the quiet coos of the crowd.

“I do,” Wolfram said to the question that the man of power asked him—on the second try. His heart was thudding too loudly for him to hear properly, and what he could hear well were the thoughts in his head and the rustling of the crowd in their seats.

“I do,” Yuri said, without a snag or hesitation. Wolfram’s breath caught in his throat, his blood coursing loudly in his ears as if he’d run too far too fast, as Yuri leaned forward, his lips slightly parted. He only leaned halfway and, before Wolfram could consider the meaning of the jagged rings again, he thought of the crowd and of spectacles and leaned forward the rest of the way, welcoming the soft touch of Yuri’s lips against his own.

The kiss was gentle and brief, but Wolfram was neither glad nor upset when it ended. No need to make a scene of it. Wedding kisses happened in both worlds. So why was his heart still racing? And racing faster? Was it supposed to? He found his hand in Yuri’s, which was no longer shaking, and was tugged back down the aisle. Descending the steps only made Wolfram’s heart beat quicker.

“Oh my, but he does look pale,” Lady Celi said as he walked past. It was the last thing he heard before he fainted. He didn’t even hear the crowd gasp or his own thoughts of how fainting at your own wedding was defiantly a spectacle.

~Alice Von Wonderland

Closing Note: No he’s not dead, dying, diseased, or going to wake up in a hospital. I just thought it would make for a…an interesting ending. (For this chapter. I’m not done yet.)

Until Next Time

Alice Von Wonderland