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18 July 2006 @ 11:26 am
Fic: Magic (Gwendal x Gunter, Kyou Kara Maou) (91: Crown)  
Title: Magic
Fandom: Kyou Kara Maou
Spoilers: episode 8ish?
Characters: Gwendal x Gunter.
Challenge: 91: Crown
Summary: A familiar object makes its reappearance ...

Notes: First Kyou Kara Maou fic, so a totally new fandom here ^_^. I first watched an episode of this ages ago, but thought that it not only looked stupid, but that the characters were rather ugly as well. Thanks to nothing to watch and the power of youtube, I picked the series up about a month ago, and watched in the span of less than a week watched any episode that simply looked like Gunter may have been a part of ^_^. Now, I like the series so much without actually obsessing over it that I'm no longer allowing myself to watch youtube episodes and am following it on DVD instead Although I must have watched almost half of the episodes available before I came to this decision.



It should have been a normal afternoon. Yuri had been rescued from the latest evil villain who wanted to take over the world and then flushed back to his own one (at least Gwendal hoped so, this particular toilet had happened to be a long drop, but Gwendal was sure the same principle applied). Wolfam was off sulking-slash-STUDYING YOU IDIOT! somewhere that hopefully involved his own very nice castle and not Gwendal’s often far too overcrowded one. Conrad, Gwendal was sure, was off doing something very practical such as practicing his fencing, or something incredibly unpractical such as practising baseball. The latter of the two was an exercise that Gwendal found especially fruitless as everyone refused to play the silly game with him, and Conrad ended up commandeering a poor wall as both pitcher and backstop, a move that had at least improved his averages.

What exactly Gunter was up to, Gwendal hadn’t particularly cared.

“”Gwendal!”

At least until the other man had flown dramatically into his office, robes splaying behind him and fearful eyes locking directly on Gwendal’s. Gwendal had noticed each of the small individual details because he was trained to do such things, but his eyes had focused immediately on the menacing object that was the cause of Gunter’s distress.

“Get out.” Gunter’s eyes widened at the low command, freezing mid step even as he gaze became more pitiful. “Now.”

“But, but … Gwendal!”

“Tell me,” he began, his voice shaking just slightly with barely suppressed anger that may have held just a hint of fear if Gwendal DID things such as fear. “Tell me how in the world you managed to get that accursed crown stuck on your head again?!” Gunter’s fingers fluttered up to the offending crown in response, gripping the slight band as his gaze turned even more mournful.

“It’s not the same crown, but the originals sister crown. It’s hardly my fault, Gwendal.” The pitiful plea brought out a ‘sympathetic’ snort from Gwendal. “It just, it just jumped out at me! Assaulted me! Surely you should be more compassionate?” Gunter wisely decided to drop that particular line of argument when Gwendal narrowed his eyes dangerously at him. “Anyway, it appears as though the two crowns belong to warring princesses who competed over everything – and really, they’re quite different when you look closely, Gwendal, I’m surprised at you for not noticing the intrinsic details – and that included their conquests. And I, it appears dear Gwendal, am a conquest considered far too beautiful and elegant to not be fought over.” Gwendal did not buy the sad way Gunter turned his gaze downwards for a moment.

“Then get someone to remove it.” It was as simple as that. Gunter was considered somewhat attractive by those who were lucky enough to be familiar only with his looks, and Gwendal highly doubted that there wasn’t a long list of noble women and men who would be more than willing to break this particular spell.

“I’ve tried!” Gunter wailed, throwing both hands up to the crown as he viciously tried to pull it off himself, almost causing Gwendal to rise to his own feet to stop him. “But for some reason, the kisses of others don’t work. Not to mention that some of those I asked took it as an invitation for something more.”

Something … more? Gwendal made a mental note to have his intelligence officers to find out exactly which of the denizens of the castle had acted in such an inappropriate manner and have them banished immediately.

“Then perhaps the cure is different this time,” Gwendal responded with an indifferent wave of his hand. “Surely if you do some research –“ He was interrupted when Gunter slammed both his hands down on the table and leaned forward, his gaze one of such deadly seriousness that Gwendal was momentarily impressed.

“Anissina has given me until sunset to find a cure on my own; otherwise she is planning on taking things into her own hands.” Gunter’s pretty eyes shimmered as he collapsed back into his chair. “She means well, I know. But … last time, last time when I returned to my room after it was all over, Gwendal?” Unable to help himself, Gwendal leaned slightly across the desk as Gunter’s tone dropped low, his voice barely a whisper. “I found that several strands of my hair had been, had been … singed.”

Singed. Gunter’s hair.

That was something that Gwendal simply couldn’t allow to happen again.

Gwendal rose to his feet, ignoring Gunter as he crossed to the far side of his office where he drew the heavy curtains there closed, before turning to face the other man again.

“What do I need to do?”

“Oh, Gwendal!” In the time it took Gwendal to blink, Gunter was in his arms, only releasing his death grip when Gwendal coughed deliberately loud-and-with-threat-of-death. “My research appears to indicate that only the one who released me from the other crown’s spell can release me from the sister crown’s spell, but there is a slight … difference.”

“Difference?” Gwendal knew he would regret asking the question, and when Gunter paused before replying, Gwendal closed his eyes in preparation.

“It seems that the crowns are rather competitive, and that they try to one-up each other.”

“Which means exactly what, Gunter?” If there was a slither of exasperation in Gwendal’s normally reserved tone, it was well deserved.

“A simple kiss to the crown may not be enough this time.” Gunter read Gwendal’s expression perfectly. “But that doesn’t mean it might not! We should most definitely try that option first!”

With a growl that sounded suspiciously like a very hard done by sigh, Gwendal leant forward and placed a tiny kiss against the far too thin band as quickly as possibly; cutting off the other man before he could say anything more that might put him off this stupid scheme for good. There was none of the soft light and sparkles that had accompanied the action last time, and it was one of the reasons why he was far from surprised when Gunter discovered that the crown was still stuck fast.

The second reason was that things were never, ever that easy, especially when Gunter was involved.

“I’m so sorry Gwe-”

“Shut up,” Gwendal ordered roughly, desperately trying to prepare himself for the next step. All right. So kissing the crown hadn’t worked. Fair enough, he’d been expecting that. Logically, the next attempt should be …

Simple. Really. Hardly anything to it. Gwendal had faced down entire armies before, after all.

“Whatever you do, Gunter, don’t move.” Gunter nodded seriously; perhaps knowing as well as Gwendal did that this would come down to precision and timing. If he attacked this from just the right angle, then perhaps …

The short peck was even briefer than the one Gwendal had placed on the crown itself, but Gwendal still strangely managed to notice just how soft and smooth Gunter’s cheek was. He took a big step back once it was done, pleased at the fact that he was surely only blushing slightly and that Gunter was looking just the slightest unsettled himself.

“This time?” he asked, hopeful eyes turning just a touch wry as Gunter’s attempt to remove the crown failed once again. Gunter looked positively downcast, lavender strands of hair falling despondently across his eyes.

“It’s all right, Gwendal. I’m sure that Anissina will not be quite so harsh this time.” The failed attempt at optimism only hardened Gunter’s resolve even more.

“Close your eyes.” Lavender blinked through lavender, before quietly obeying. As he moved forward he couldn’t help but notice the way Gunter slightly tensed, the way his pretty hair was impossibly prettier up close, the way …

… the way Gunter smelt of lavender, as well. Huh.

It wasn’t a kiss, not really. It was more … more a momentary brushing together of lips that just happened to be passing each other by. There was something there that had been absent in the first two attempts, however, a brief flicker of magic that meant that Gwendal remained mere millimetres from Gunter, and Gunter’s eyes flickered slowly open.

“I think it may be loosening just slightly,” and if Gwendal didn’t know Gunter better, he would have sworn that there was just a hint of hoarseness in the other man’s voice.

“Understood,” he replied, his own words not sounding quite right. It was only so that he could maximise the exactitude of his actions that he gently cupped Gunter’s face, and that this time when he leant in it was slower, more deliberate was just so that he wouldn’t … miss.

And it wasn’t a kiss, not really. Kisses, in Gwendal’s experience, weren’t quite this soft or warm, and they certainly didn’t make everything else in the world seem to evaporate and the air to shimmer.

There was magic at work, plain and simple.

Gunter’s beautiful hair was even silkier than Gwendal had even imagined.

When it was over, and the magic that meant that Gwendal lingered longer than he had intended to lost its hold, he had no problem gently releasing a very much dazed Gunter from the power of the crown. He flung the horrid thing onto his desk before turning his attention solely back to Gunter, who, while wearing a tiny smile that appeared to indicate that he appreciate the success of the operation, still seemed to have not quite recovered from the ordeal.

“I’ve removed the crown,” Gwendal said with no small amount of gruffness, although his words appeared to have little effect as Gunter did not lose his slightly distant look. “You can go now.” He added helpfully. “Don’t you need to go let Anissina know that you won’t need her assistance?”

“That should be obvious now that the crown has been removed, I believe.” Gunter at least managed a response this time, although his small, strange smile stayed.

“I don’t think a little thing like that would deter her.” The wry (but very true) comment brought a more immediate and sobering response, and Gunter snapped out of whatever cloud he was in and looked rightfully fearful before recomposing himself.

“You may be correct,” Gunter conceded, although even then he still seemed almost … reluctant to leave. “I suppose I should go find her?”

“Yes.” Gunter didn’t move. “Now.”

“Now?” Gunter echoed mournfully.

“Now, if you value your life.” Or, more importantly, his hair. It was the final incentive that Gunter needed, as opposed to replying directly to Gwendal he flittered from the room, moaning sadly beneath his breath about the tragedy of something or the other.

And that would have been that, if his mother hadn’t turned up sometime before tea for one of her ‘visits’. After a welcoming hug that was a tad too touchy-feely for Gwendal’s liking, she spied the crown that Gwendal had disregarded distastefully earlier.

“Oh, so that is where it got to!” Cecilie proclaimed as she swooped down on the crown. “I thought maybe one of the maids had run off with it.”

“You should put that down, mother,” Gwendal said darkly, his gaze narrowing at the offensive object. “It’s cursed.”

“Nonsense!” she admonished lightly. “Not unless it somehow got that way between this morning and now.” A spin, a pose, and before Gwendal could stop her, Cecilie had put the crown on. “It’s rather pretty, don’t you think?”

“MOTHER! That crown is not a play thing.” Aghast, Gwendal could only stare. Cecilie appeared to realise that perhaps her oldest son was not reacting in quite the way men usually did when she paraded around in jewellery, and with a pout she took the crown off.

She … simply took it off.

“Put it on again.” It was practically command, and while Cecilie arched an eyebrow at the comment, she mockingly did so, before elaborately taking it off once again. “Hmm. It must have lost it powers. Strange.”

“It’s unlike you to talk such nonsense, Gwendal. The crown is perfectly fine.”

“Hardly,” Gwendal replied archly. “It requires a kiss to free the wearer from a curse cast in ancient times by feuding sisters.” For an impossibly long moment, Cecilie seemed almost frozen by his words, before a light laugh escaped through her painted lips and she flung herself at Gwendal, wrapping her arms around him in a hug.

“I do love you so very much, Gwendal. You provide the most amusing moments!”

“I can vouch for it myself; the curse was present earlier when I had to remove it from Gunter.” He sounded strangely defensive, but really, what would his mother of all people know about this sort of thing?

“Since Gwendal had that crown hand made especially as a gift for me, I can vouch for the fact that it hasn’t belonged to any curse OR any feuding sisters, and that it in fact has only ever belong to me. If you’re looking for a heirloom, Gwendal, I’m afraid this one is not yet even a day old. While I certainly approve of kisses being used to remove the crown, they’re unfortunately not necessary.”

But, but …

“There were SPARKLES!”

“So the earth shook, huh?” Cecilie said with another one of her laughs, but there was no denying the warmth in her voice, as well. “Oh, honey. That was due to a totally different kind of magic.” But, but … “Interesting, isn’t it,” she continued contemplatively as Gwendal fought to find words – any words – that somehow would make sense of any of this. “How some people have to travel to world to hunt down true love, and others find it right on their doorstep.”

Ah. Words. Found them.

“I’m going to kill him,” he growled darkly, brushing past his mother and storming out of his office, his mind set on one thing and one thing alone.

“Make sure you have a good time, then!” Cecilie called after him, her laughter muffled only when he slammed the door hard behind him.

Gunter had some explaining to do.
 
 
 
Utterly Caffeinated: <lj user=livrin> - burnlivrin on July 18th, 2006 05:14 pm (UTC)
"...And I, it appears dear Gwendal, am a conquest considered far too beautiful and elegant to not be fought over.” lol

Can't have an adorable Gunter without his overdramatic silliness on hands, of course.^^ I especially love the last part, how Cecilie just continued on unfazedly with her assumption.^^ So very much like her.
marion517: such a messmarion517 on July 19th, 2006 12:06 pm (UTC)
Ah! Kyo Kara Maoh fiction! Wonderful!

This is an absolutely beautiful fic, the Gunter was exuberant and silly and just perfect, but your Gwendal was great, all practical and serious and oh so in denial. You're killing my Wolfram/Yuri OTP. I mean that in the best way possible.

And it wasn't a kiss, not really. Kisses, in Gwendal's experience, weren't quite this soft or warm, and they certainly didn't make everything else in the world seem to evaporate and the air to shimmer.

Sigh. Warmandfuzzy.

just a note, you've got Cecile saying "Since Gwendal had that crown hand made", and unless she's talking about him in the third person (which she could be), I think you mean Gunter.
Lunaellunael on September 12th, 2006 02:27 am (UTC)
That fic totally rules! I really love it! You truly describe very well Gwendal's sublte denial and their intense kiss - I would LOVE to hear more about that story! Is there a sequel somewhere?!?

Lovely fic!!!

Lunael
h_w: rnd sanohungry_worm on March 29th, 2007 01:55 am (UTC)
That is simply lovely. *snerk* Sneaky!Gunter wins. :D
Thanks for writing and sharing this wonderful little fic!