Chapter Text
1 year ago
𓆩✧𓆪
You grew up on tales of violence. Wars or battles so brutal that you began to wrongly crave experiencing it for yourself. The stories never came from your parents, but from people who experienced their full power in the past. Your thought process wasn't anything too strange, those who had only known peace eventually grow tired of it themselves.
It was that craving for something more exciting than peace that led you to the walled town of Wolnack, on a mission for Liones. And it was the tales of violence you grew up on that made the gruesome one this particular bartender was telling you feel like an everyday experience.
The patrons that sat in tables behind the bar you were sitting at listened to his story in horror. It was a tale of the early days of the Seven Deadly Sins. When they were still revered as enemies of the Kingdom who had killed a Grandmaster in cold blood.
"It was my grandfather who found the bodies," the man went on as he cleaned glasses with a white rag. "They say a regular Holy Knight is as strong as a hundred regular ones. But what he found was dozens of them slaughtered like animals, their bodies lining the old castle in pools of blood. Guts strewn all over the place, you could smell the rot from a mile away, he said."
The people gasped, a blonde girl in particular seemed most disturbed. Her clear blue eyes wide like saucers.
"You're kidding! There's no way the Seven Deadly Sins were that strong!" She protested in disbelief.
No, they're far stronger.
You took a sip from your glass, a bored aura surrounding you.
You stopped here to try and gather information, but instead all you were getting was a useless dramatized story. It was a waste of time to be here, and the wine wasn't even that good.
The cloak you wore hid your identity and also your age. Letting you slip into places you usually wouldn't be able to get into as a 15-year-old. With a sigh, you tossed a few bronze coins on the bar counter before hopping off the stool and making your way towards the door.
Hopefully, there was a hotel room available somewhere in this depressing town. Maybe if it wasn't surrounded by tall, almost cage-like walls, you wouldn't feel as on edge.
You walked out of the tavern, the cold night air meeting your flushed face. The stars greeted you and your anxiousness was quieted under the soft lights.
The sound of your shoes scuffling against the dirt ground were all that could be heard in the quiet night. You began to walk the streets, aimlessly reading the hanging metal signs for some place to crash. You weren't in any hurry. The mission you'd begged your father months on end for didn't have a time limit.
In fact, you were right on schedule.
You stalled in the middle of the road. The streetlamp's cast flickering shadows that faintly danced across the buildings and street in front of you. The available light was scarce, and in the darkness, you couldn't see more than five feet ahead.
But your senses were tingling. And the scent of magic flowed freely through the air, it was enough to make you think that maybe your father had accidentally given you a mission far below your skill set. That the blundering morons who'd been tailing you---ones who couldn't even hide their presence. Might just be weaker than you'd been told.
You let the sole of your boot move outward, shifting your stance as you peered over your shoulder.
There. On the roof.
You gripped the handle of your short sword, preparing to unsheathe it from the scabbard at your waist.
Just a few more seconds, this had to be the right angle.
A vivid blast of purple magic. You pivoted, blade out and ready. Your hood slipped off, and the purple light reflected itself in the unique color of your eyes as you parried the attack.
"Full Counter," you chanted just as the magic scrapped your blade and switched direction, right back at the caster.
The shadows of the night turned purple, and as the magic attack rescinded up towards the roofs it illuminated the fearful expression of three wide eyed assassins making the dumbest mistake of their life.
They barely managed to jump out of the way, the magic energy exploding between them. They gazed at the singed wood on the roof in horror.
"Was that---the Dragon Sin?!" The ringleader exclaimed in recognition; she had three seconds to catch her breath before you flickered into being behind her, blade out.
"Behind you!" The short red headed man squeaked out.
You slammed her into the pavement, and she let out a sickening gasp. The whiplash rendered her helpless, and you pressed the tip of your blade into her neck.
"Weapons. Down." You ordered, letting the sharp point draw blood. The purple haired girl whimpered in pain, and the pathetic reaction surprised you. For a supposed assassin, you expected her to have a higher pain tolerance. But you weren't complaining because a second later you heard the clattering of wood and metal as the two men dropped their weapons.
You raised your left hand and snapped. Three small balls of light formed on the tips of your fingers, they rose above you, providing just enough light for you to see the faces of your attackers.
A short read head, a lanky, tall man with beady brown eyes, and the girl you pinned down with hair the exact color of her magic. They looked like three clowns instead of assassins. Especially if they were in the habit of letting their emotions dictate their actions. As far as you knew, assassins did whatever they could to complete their mission. Even if it meant sacrificing one of their own.
"You're not Meliodas, the Dragon Sin!" The girl realized once the light revealed your face.
"Is that who you were sent to kill?" You raised an eyebrow. Sending assassin's of this level to kill your father had to have been the stupidest thing you'd heard all day.
"Anyone would confuse you with Uncle Meliodas when you use his signature attacks like that."
Never mind.
That voice was the stupidest thing you've heard all day.
In the weapons discarded by the brown-haired assassin's feet, laid a leather sack. One that was squirming around, something inside struggling to get out. Until finally, a familiar fox head poked out of it.
You fought back a groan. Why was it that every time you left Liones, you ran into Lancelot of all people?
"You're always getting in my way," you muttered in annoyance, glancing away. The sword in your hand felt heavy all of a sudden, the weight of your crime bringing you a slight sense of shame.
The fox gave you a dull stare, "and you're ruining my plans. Not to mention, I'm pretty sure that's my sword you stole from me a year ago."
You immediately sheathed the blade, pouting slightly. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Lancelot narrowed his eyes at you, "yeah, sure. What are you doing in Wolnack? As far as I knew, this group was my ticket into the Echoing Spirits Trial. Before you came along and incapacitated them, they stopped here to hunt down their last token for entry."
"You. . .tricked us?" The purple haired assassin croaked out, your grip on her throat stifling her vocal cords.
"No magical creature was going to fall for your trap," Lancelot drawled the statement like it was the most apparent thing ever. "I just helped you out a bit. If it wasn't for me your group would still be wandering Britannia without the first token."
His plan was slowly piecing itself together in your mind. It was bold, maybe a little bolder than yours. While your mission was to investigate and possibly take down the Echoing Spirits Trial that had the magic users of Britannia in a chokehold. Lancelot was trying to infiltrate it---maybe even participate for all you knew.
He must've heard the same rumors you did if he was drawn to the Trial. And yet here he was, attempting to walk into a place no one ever survived. The report you received before leaving was enough to commit you to destroying the Trial. Not only did it have corrupt requirements to participate, but those who were able to meet the conditions went missing afterwards.
The mysterious Trial that promised the fulfillment of any wish was riddled with hidden death traps. It was completely unknown, and the only reason Liones was getting involved was the fact that several Holy Knights had been murdered ever since the Trial's appearance.
"Let's talk about this without an audience," you offered, standing up and the releasing the girl from your hold. "Shall we?"
𓆩✧𓆪
Much to your attackers dismay, you had them knocked out and tied up on the roof in just a few minutes. Lancelot in his fox form wasn't much help, so he just boredly observed you.
A part of you suspected he was surprised by the way you easily dealt with them, but it was hard to tell with that dull fox face of his. It'd only been a year since you'd last run into each other, and you considered your skills far improved compared to your 14 year old self's abilities.
The moon was fully risen in the cloudless sky as the two of you strolled through Wolnack's maze of tight alleyways. You asked Lancelot if he knew of a place you could stay for the night, and he offered to show you the way. It felt odd to be led around by a fox, especially one who wouldn't stop badgering you with questions.
"I'm guessing Liones sent you to deal with whoever's behind the Trial?" He inquired, glancing back at you.
Looking this far down, and speaking to an animal felt wrong. You hoped no one would turn the corner and assume you were insane. Knowing Lancelot, he would purposefully keep quiet just to enforce that idea in others minds. If you even tried to protest and say the fox could speak as well, he'd tilt his head with a baffling innocence that would definitely make you lose it.
"Yeah," you affirmed. "A few of our knights went missing while on solo missions. Sir Howzer did some digging and identified the Trial and its second condition as the culprit."
"The body part of a Holy Knight," Lancelot recalled, distastefully. As if saying it out loud left a bad taste in his mouth. "They know that Knights have been successfully killed for the second token, and yet Liones still sent their beloved Princess to deal with it, by herself? How foolish."
You rolled your eyes, the urge to sleep only making your annoyance worse. "I'm far from beloved, and perfectly capable."
He didn't say anything back. Whether he disagreed or not wasn't apparent either. His fox form frustrated you to no end, the lack of human bone structure made him impossible to read.
"Well, I'm guessing you allowed yourself to be captured by the weakest possible Trial participants you could find? Conveniently becoming their first token?" Your tone is almost bitter, the thought of Lancelot voluntarily being apart of such an evil process. Whatever his reason was, it better be good.
"Would you believe me if I said I didn't know what the second requirement was when I threw myself into their trap?" Lancelot inquired, his tone soft and slightly guilty.
You pursed your lips, the thought running through you. Was it right for you to be mad? You were far more reckless than him, so a slip up like what he was saying wasn't anything compared to the problems you usually got caught in. That was easier to swallow than consider Lancelot would ever sit by and allow those bumbling fools to kill a Holy Knight.
"Yeah," you muttered. "You've been dumber."
You swore you could feel the amusement coming off him. Or maybe it was offense. That damn fox face could mean anything at that point.
"We're here," his voice rang out as he stopped the two of you in front of a one story, shabby looking building.
You fought back a look of disgust. It was stuck up of you to expect anything remotely similar to the extravagant life you'd been living. This was only the second time you've journey out of Liones, you were trying your best to get used to it.
"Thank you. . ." You stared at the building, willing yourself to walk up the steps. A night full of rickety beds and spiders awaited. Which was way better than sleeping outside, of course.
Your fingers grazed the door handle just as you realized the soft patter of Lancelot's paws following after you had stopped. You turned, eyeing the red fox still standing in the middle of the street.
"You coming?" A tone of curiosity seeped into your words, head tilted as you spoke.
"There's only one room available, with one bed." He answered, fighting to keep his tone neutral.
There was an awkward pause as his words soaked in, the meaning behind them almost going right over your head. But once they did you couldn't fight back the warm blush that bloomed on your cheeks.
"A-And?" You said, raising your eyes in a silent challenge. One that was almost ruined by your flustered expression. "Would you rather sleep outside like an animal?"
Lancelot blinked at you, "I am an animal."
"Don't be a smartass, you and I both know you're not as cool as you try and behave."
"Huh?"
"I'm Lancelot," you mocked. "And I won't let anyone see what I actually look like so I can be cool and mysterious. Even though in reality all it does is creep people out."
"What? I-I'm not creepy. . .am I?"
"Do I need to remind you of your fairy forms?"
𓆩✧𓆪
The old lady standing behind the desk at the entrance (or the inn keeper as Lancelot informed you) could only suspiciously stare at the young girl and her fox when you asked for a room. She reluctantly gave you a key once you tossed a gold coin her way, and you hoped it would also keep her mouth shut.
You didn't believe there was someone out there hunting you down, but it never hurt to be safe.
The last available room in the inn smelled of mildew. As if the building itself was so old the earth had decided to start claiming it back. Once the rickety hinges slammed shut, Lancelot darted onto the bed and curled up into a ball of red fur.
You tossed your bag aside, stretching your arms in relief once the added weight was gone.
"You know, for someone who planned on sleeping outside tonight, you sure look cozy," you teased Lancelot.
He snuggled further into himself, "you take what you can get, ya know?"
"Well, I don't remember saying that the fox gets the whole bed," you remarked with a yawn. "Pick a side and stay on it."
The atmosphere was awkward. As awkward as two teenagers sharing a bed for the first time could be. The only thing that made it less tense was that one of them was currently an animal. So you could pretend you were sleeping next to a pet, while Lancelot on the other hand was barely functioning.
You didn't notice any change in his behavior, but as he rolled to the left side, his fur almost seemed like it was standing up. As if you taking off your cloak and crawling under the covers was the equivalent of a lightning strike to him.
You blew the wax candle on the nightstand out, mumbling a quick goodnight before closing your eyes.
𓆩✧𓆪
You woke up squished. An odd feeling for someone who had the whole side of a decently wide bed to be feeling. Your eyes were still shut, face against the pillow as sleep fought to keep you in its grasp.
But there was a weight on your back, snaking to your waist. And the odd sensation of warm air flowing down the back of your neck had your eyes slowly prying open.
It took you a few seconds.
To realize that the sturdy figure pressed into your back, wrapped around your waist—was that of a person.
On any other day, your immediate response would've been to roll over and grab the dagger you hid under your pillow. To barely realize through your foggy brain that you had fallen asleep with another person next to you before you ended up swinging the blade.
But there was something that made you pause. The familiar smell of rosemary and leather that was tingling your nose, giving you a sense of comfort you hadn't felt in ages.
Your tensed muscles relaxed as you realized what was going on.
Lancelot. It was just Lancelot, not some random creep.
But a single answer only brought more questions. Why the hell was Lancelot pressed against you right now? The annoying red fox who couldn't shut his mouth had his arms wrapped around you.
Right, a fox.
He'd been a fox when you'd fallen asleep, and you'd expected him to be a fox when you woke. You hadn't seen him in his human form for years now, not since he ran away from Benwick.
In your calm, but whirling thoughts, the boy beside you was slowly realizing the thing he was snuggling wasn't exactly a firm pillow.
You didn't have to worry about how to get out of his arms without waking him because in the next second, Lancelot scrambled awake and away from you.
And then there was a loud thud. A very heavy, loud thud.
Huh.
You sat up, slowly turning in bed to find the side he was supposed to be on, empty. The sheets spilled over onto the ground, clearly tugged away.
"Did you. . .fall out of bed?" You slowly rasped, your voice rough from sleep and fully confused.
There was no reply. And as you were leaning over the side to check, a wave of magic pulsed past you. And what you found on the ground was an embarrassed fox, hiding his head in the sheets.
"No," he groaned.
You blinked, feeling a warm blush creep its way up your neck and cheeks.
"If you keep refusing to show me your face like this, I'm going to assume I got cuddled by an ugly boy."
"Just shut up."
"Yeah, yeah, now you know how it feels," you flopped back into bed, spreading out on the comfy mattress as you stared up at the ceiling. "I'm surprised you didn't leave for the Trial at dawn."
Lancelot hopped back onto the bed, sitting down at the very edge.
"It wouldn't have mattered anyway," he replied. "I have a feeling you would've tracked me down no matter how early I left."
You didn't respond right away, knowing how right he was for once. He may have been the animal with a killer nose in this situation, but you would've head hunted him across Britannia if he decided to ditch you like that.
"I see you're getting smarter," you huffed.
𓆩✧𓆪