Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Summer will end soon enough, and childhood as well.”

― George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones

“ Meliodas! Hurry up or you’ll be late! ”

The rapping at the door grew louder, rousing Meliodas from a dreamless sleep. Sunlight streamed through the gaps of the shutters. Songbirds that had made a home on his sil earlier in the season chirped happily. Meliodas wished he could’ve had their vigor this early in the blasted morning, his lids still weighted heavily by sleep, his limbs protesting against each demand of ‘ move’ .

“Mel-ee-oo-daas!!!” The voice continued to call out for him. He already knew it was Elizabeth, and no doubt Ban and Elaine were close behind her. She never went anywhere without one of them.

Reluctantly, he threw his light wool blanket from his body, hopping barefooted onto the chilled hardwood of the attic that he called his room. The cool of the wood helped to jolt his senses to life, a few firm slaps to the cheeks aiding in bringing his mind back to alert.

“Coming!” He called out, the insistent knocking finally dying down from his acknowledgment. He teetered across his room, throwing open his wardrobe and wincing as it creaked loudly. His furniture was old, but it was functional, so he never complained when it needed to be oiled thrice a month or hammered straight now and then. He worked hard for his spoils, and he treasured them all the same as a golden throne in the high palace.

Dressed and with his boots laced up, he patted down his mop of hair before throwing open the shutters. Fresh air and morning light poured into his room in a rush. He inhaled deeply as he reached into a small shelf next to the window, pulling out a small mason jar full of seeds. He poured a handful onto the sill, blue and green birds cooing in thanks as they began to peck away at the morsels. Their feathers glinted, extenuating their long, flowing tails and bobbed feathers atop their heads like a miniature crown.

His grandfather had threatened to burn the nest on numerous occasions. Apparently, four in the morning was too early to be woken up, even for a farmer. He had defended the birds and their perch, eventually reaching an agreement with the old man in that he would help around the fields more should they continue their morning calls.

Luckily, the singing died down as the season progressed, and as the trees began to grow pregnant with foliage and weeds began to grow through the cracks in the cobblestone, they had laid three, small blue speckled eggs; effectively worming their way into grandpa’s heart and earning their perch on his sill.  

“Good morning,” Meliodas hummed softly to the birds, observing their eggs. “It shouldn’t be too much long now, I hope.” He beamed, imagining three little additions to their family. The birds chirped as if to give their reply, ruffling their feathers proudly as he regarded their handiwork. Proud parents extended throughout the animal kingdom, it seemed.

Meliodas wondered for a brief moment if his own parents regarded him in such a way when he was younger. He shook away the thought as soon as it sprang forth. He had lost his parents when he was barely a toddler. He couldn’t even remember their faces, let alone parental love. Nothing of them remained  but a small dagger and names that were no more than ghosts to his memory.

The thatched building’s white walls and oak beams caught the morning sun, illuminating the roads below. It was but one of many in their small village, a town made up of the same five or so families over generations.

The village barely made the map, far south towards the bottom of the country and with no other export except for wheat and dairy. As a result they were mostly overlooked by the monarchy, and thus had to make do with what they had.

It was a hard life, but extremely rewarding. Grandfather had always lamented on his days spent in the capital, always saying how he wished he had come to the country sooner.

Meliodas had always asked about the city; what the people were like, how the food tasted, even if he had ever had a brush in with the monarchy. Each question, however, was always met with the same, sombre response. “ That was a time long gone. You would do best to leave the city from your mind .”

A flash of movement below suddenly caught his attention. The sweeping motion of a blue dress and wild blond hair. Elaine was jumping towards Ban, who was holding a lace ribbon high above his head. Elizabeth, her flowing platinum tresses seeming like an extension of her pale yellow dress was stomping after them in an agitation.

Quickly placing the seeds back in its proper spot on the shelf, he set off down the stairs and out of the small cottage he called home. Townsfolk had already taken to the street, merchants heading to their shops and hawking their wares and mothers tugging unrurly children along. It was a standard sight, yet it helped make him feel at home.

Jogging forwards, Meliodas could hear Ban’s shrill laughter tying in with Elaine and Elizabeth’s protests. The ribbon from earlier was now tied crookedly across Ban’s forehead, his pale hair sticking up in all directions as if it had been attempted to be tugged off. He held Elaine back at arm’s length, the much shorter girl whining as she fought against his much stronger grip. Elizabeth was behind him, futilely leaping for the item.

“Look who’s finally up!” Ban called out as he spotted Meliodas. Elaine stopped reaching forward to face him, Elizabeth leaping to his side at once. “The slugabed arises from his cave!”

Elaine and Elizabeth both looked towards him pleadingly, tears (real or fake, he wasn’t entirely sure,) dotted the corner of their eyes. They were playing at his heartstrings – trying to get him to do their dirty work for them.

Normally, it wouldn’t have worked. Shouldn’t have worked. But seeing Elizabeth’s blue eyes glazed in sadness crushed his heart. Even if it was a game, it was going too far.

“Okay, Ban. I think that’s enough. Can you give Elaine her ribbon back now?” Meliodas said firmly, holding out his palm for good measure. Ban seemed to consider it for a moment, tapping a forefinger against his chin in mock contemplation.

“I don’t know, Mel. You’ll have to take it off me if you want it so bad.” He slurred in a sing-song voice, cracking a wicked grin. Ban leaned forwards, widening his stance to ready for the attack. Elizabeth clutched at Meliodas’ sleeve loosely, butterflies flying through his stomach from the way she looked at him.

He couldn’t stop the colour from tinting his cheeks as he lunged forwards, tackling the much larger boy to the ground.

They wrestled through the dirt for a few moments, exchanging a few light blows. They fought often, and seemingly over anything and everything. Not a day went by that either of them went without a new bruise or scrape to be nursed.

The girls, however, never liked seeing them brawl; and though they would never openly admit it to them, in their own way, the fights between them were also a test among men to prove they were worthy of them at all.

In the end, Meliodas arose from dust clutching a now thoroughly dirtied ribbon. His own clothing not much better off. His linens were tainted in a light beige and his hair matted down in thick clumps. Ban wasn’t much different, save for a slight swelling on his left cheek from where Meliodas had landed a solid blow.

Meliodas handed off his spoil of war to Elaine, a fit of prideful giggles bubbling through his chest. His heart fluttered once more as Elizabeth thanked him softly, gingerly inspecting a bruise on his shoulder as she did so.

Elizabeth had only moved to the village a month ago, but she fit in with their small group as if she had always belonged. In fact, Meliodas was finding it more and more difficult to remember a time when Elizabeth wasn’t there. She seemed so natural, so innate in this life that it almost felt wrong to think of a time before her.

Despite or upbringing in the city, she took well to rural life and never once complained. Meliodas had always imagined city children to be crass and snobby, never once daring to dirty their custom boots or tear a hem. Elizabeth had shattered his prejudices, the girl as bold and daring as the rest of them.

The townsfolk were quick to notice the budding relationship between the two. Whispers of future wedding bells echoing through the streets whenever they passed by. The adults thought they couldn’t hear, or perhaps assumed they didn’t understand.

After all, they were children untouched by life’s hardships and trials. How much could two twelve-year-olds know about the topic anyways?

“Thank you, Meliodas. At least someone here isn’t a big bully!” Elaine stuck her tongue out towards Ban, making a sound for emphasis.

“Come on, Elaine!” Ban retorted, a wide grin plastered across his face as he rubbed away at the swelling on his cheek, “it was all in good fun!”

“Is that what you’re calling it?! Look at you! What is your dad going to say when you get home with a fresh injury?”

“He’ll pat me on the back and say ‘’atta boy’, and then I’ll get extra desserts for a week.” Ban chided.

“I thought the last time you got your ass beat into next Tuesday and were forced to work in the barns for just as long.” Meliodas recounted, his own grin spreading across his features. Ban flinched at his words, obviously caught red handed in his lie.

“That’s… uh… Technicalities? Right, that’s it. I was showered in praise for my valance first, though, promise!”

They all erupted into a fit of laughter, Ban left floundering as he brushed himself free of dust and debris. He mumbled something to himself, unheard by the rest of the party before stringing an arm around Meliodas’ shoulder. “Come on, man. You’re supposed to have my back in this!”

“Yeah, sure, whatever you say.” Meliodas brushed Ban off nonchalantly, taking a few steps forward closer to the girls. “All of that nonsense aside, is there a reason you all came knocking so early in the morning?”

Elizabeth clasped her hands together, jumping excitedly. Her eyes seemed to come alive, her entire face brightening as she hopped nearer towards him. “Oh! That’s right! I heard from my uncle that knights will be stopping by town today! Real! From the Capital! Knights !” She beamed.

“Your uncle was a knight once, right, Elizabeth?” Elaine inquired, tying her ribbon in her hair and sticking her tongue out at Ban once more. “I wonder what they want to do here-”

“-Does it matter!” Ban cut in, “Nothing ever happens in this backwater town. This is probably the greatest thing to happen here since sliced bread !”

Elaine smacked Ban on the arm. “You’re also so pessimistic, Ban. Things happen here.” She argued, her cheeks puffing out in annoyance. The two set off to bickering in their own little world. Really, the villagers had taken to snickering about Meliodas and Elizabeth seeing wedding bells, yet failed to notice the seemingly already-married-couple in Elaine and Ban.

“They’re at it again.” Elizabeth sighed, massaging her temples in irritation. “Anyways, Uncle Denzel says some priest or some-other is stopping by on some pilgrimage, and that knights will be accompanying them! I haven’t seen a knight since I left the city! Meliodas, I know you’ll love it.”

“Why do you say that?” He asked earnestly. He had never seen a knight, at least, not a royal one. Foot soldiers would sometimes stop by the village for lodging or to resolve small disputes, but they were hardly impressive.

In fact, most were more trouble than it was worth. Demanding more food than a small family could eat, complaining about the conditions... Sometimes a company would stop over for extended periods of time, a safe space ideal for recuperating from war efforts far away. All of them were the same though, demanding and not worth the fuss. “Most knights seem rotten. I don’t see how city soldiers would be much better.”

“Those weren’t real soldiers. These are nobility, the best of the best!” Elizabeth chirped happily, spinning around in the breeze, her dress and hair flowing around her gracefully. “Every girl in the city dreams of marrying a royal guard. The royal balls, the chivalry, the heroics. They come to rescue maidens from towers and slay dragons!”

“Doesn’t sound that special to me.” Meliodas huffed, crossing his arms in an attempt to hide his jealousy. Wasn’t this town enough for her? Wasn’t he enough for her? He bet he could do all those things, and better too. He didn’t need to be a stupid knight to protect her…

“Sounds like Ban could learn a thing or two from them.” Elaine hopped in, startling Meliodas and earning a small giggle from Elizabeth. “He’s uncouth, lazy, loud, and the farthest from chivalrous you could ever get!”

“Guilty as charged!” Ban snickered. Elaine rolled her eyes.

“Come on guys!” Elizabeth stomped her foot down, waving to gain their attention. “Uncle Denzel said they’ll be here around noon. That only gives us a few hours to prepare!”

“More like a few hours to mess around before we’ll be forced to serve the best rations to those pigs- oww!” Ban flinched when Elaine flicked him on his swollen cheek. The smaller girl was fuming, quickly walking over to take Elizabeth by the arm to stroll down the street.

“Can’t you tell this is important to Elizabeth! Sheesh. Men can be so insensitive. ” Elaine chided, making sure her voice was loud enough for the two boys to hear. Elizabeth looked back over her shoulder, casting Meliodas a solemn look before being thrust forward by Elaine.

Ban and Meliodas exchanged their own puzzled looks before racing to catch up to the girls, pushing the other playfully as they went.

Meliodas rolled down a cliff unceremoniously, Elizabeth, Elaine and Ban close behind him. Grass and wildflowers tangled in with the girl’s hair while thistles poked at their sides. They crashed at the bottom, a fit of laughter bubbling in all their chests as they looked up at the sky.

Elaine crashed into Ban, tackling him to the ground roughly as she tickled his sides. It wasn’t long before the two were in their own little world, laughing loudly.

“They’re going to get married one day.” Elizabeth panted, still catching her breath. “All the lady’s in town say so.”

Meliodas righted himself, his elbows still weak as he tried to make sense of the spinning world around him. “I don’t know. I don’t think Ban will ever be ready to become a husband.”

Elizabeth punched him lightly in his shoulder, unintentionally knocking him back down into the grass with a thud. “Don’t say that. Anyone can change.”

Ban chortled loudly to their left, startling them both before they started giggling as well. “Sure, Ban can change,” Meliodas said between laughs, “but it will take a lot before Ban is ever ready for that. I doubt he’ll ever ever become an adult.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right.” Elizabeth laughed as she leaned back beside Meliodas. “I think you’ll turn out okay, though.”

Meliodas flushed, his heart halting in his chest. All of a sudden it was too hard to breathe, and he swallowed the wrong way, sending him into a fit of coughs. Elizabeth bolted upright, worry plastered on her face as she patted at his back.

“Where did that come from?!” Meliodas rasped out between coughs. He could see her from the corner of his teary eyes. Blue eyes glittering in the early morning sun, long, pale hair sticking up every which way and littered with leaves, grass and twigs. Marriage had always been the furthest thing from his mind, nothing more than a far off possibility.

Elizabeth stifled another laugh, “Don’t worry about it.” She teased, “no one would want to marry you anyways!”

“Hey!” Meliodas retorted, fists flying to a stray tuft of grass, yanking hard. He threw the grass and clumped up dirt at Elizabeth playfully, a brown and green confetti raining down on her. “No one would want to marry you either!”

Elizabeth ripped up a clump of grass, chucking it back at Meliodas. The laughter died down, replaced with a misplaced sadness. The world stilled as Elizabeth balled her fists in her lap. Oh crap. Crap crap crap! “I didn’t mean it Elizabeth!” Meliodas rushed to correct himself, “I didn’t mean it. Any guy would be lucky to have you as his wife. So please, don’t cry!”

A breeze blew through the valley, rustling the trees and blowing pollen into their faces. Ban and Elaine could still be heard behind them, carefree and untouched by worry. Meliodas watched Elizabeth intently, waiting for the tears to fall, but they never came.

“I’m not crying, dummy.” Elizabeth’s voice was steady, calm, somehow wise beyond her years. “It’s just… don’t ever change. Okay, Meliodas?”

She smiled, the wind blowing a stray strand of hair into her mouth. Meliodas chuckled, pushing the offending lock behind her ear before he could stop and think about what he was doing. Elizabeth looked up at him expectantly, a slight purse to her lips reminding him how close he was to her.

“I-I promise!” He jerked backwards, scrambling to put more space between them. What was wrong with him today? This was Elizabeth, not some plague victim! This was his friend, practically his sister! And yet... something about her was making his heart beat out of his chest, as if he had just ran a mile without pause.

“Hey, lovebirds!” Ban whistled, throwing them both back into the real world, faces hot with a furious blush. “It’s nearly noon! We better get back!”

The sun was high in the sky, its warmth sinking into Meliodas’ skin. It was amazing how quickly time passed you by when you were in good company. Elizabeth's words still weighed at the back of his mind. What had prompted her to say such a thing? She was the one who had changed then, not him.

He rose to his feet, dusting off his shirt and pants before extending a grubby hand towards Elizabeth. She took it gingerly, her palm just slightly smaller than his own given their age difference. He hoisted her to her feet as Ban and Elaine caught up beside them.

The clearing they always played in wasn't too far off from town, though they had to stray from the path and into the woods to get there. It wasn't uncommon for a wild boar or bear to show up in these parts - those these days the fear seemed to be more of enemy soldiers who might hold the children for ransom. Beside this Elaine and Elizabeth locked their arms together, taking large, exaggerated steps without a care in the world.

It was strange. Meliodas had kept hearing about this far off war, yet it never seemed like more than fairy tales and stories meant to get children to bed at a decent time. Their village was so far removed from the conflicts. Be it blind faith in the state, or what his grandfather would no doubt call childhood ignorance, it made it almost felt as if they were untouchable.

“What do you think this big shot wants with us, anyways?” Ban asked loudly, dragging behind the girls.

“Who knows.” Meliodas spat, irritation returning. “Hopefully they don’t stay long.”

“Someone’s jealous.” Ban sang, nudging Meliodas.

“Am not!” Meliodas shot back.

“Oh yeah you are. What, scared they’ll steal Elizabeth away?”

“Of course not!” Meliodas fought to keep down the blush that threatened to blossom on his cheeks. “I just don’t like those stupid show offs. They think that just because they have the nations crest they can run their mouths and get whatever they want. We don’t need them, this war, or anything else. We’re fine how we are.”

“I get you how you feel.” Ban softened, tossing his arm around Meliodas’ shoulder haphazardly. “My folks run the inn. At least you can leave those asshats after nightfall. I’m the one stuck serving these bastards all through the night. You and I are all this town needs to protect em. Royal guard be damned.”

“Careful Ban.” Meliodas snickered, “you can’t even beat me in a wrestling match. I doubt you’d ever be able to protect Elaine from bandits.”

“Is that a threat?” Ban cocked an eyebrow, locking Meliodas in a head grip.

“It’s a promise!”

The girls, hearing the fighting behind them rushed to break the two boys apart. Some things will never change. Meliodas thought happily.

Never.

The town was abuzz with chatter. Everyone from the baker’s wife to the local monasteries priest and clerics had seemingly crawled out from nowhere, filling the streets with warm bodies and making it hard to walk.

The children pushed their way unceremoniously through the swarm of adults, forcefully moving their way to the front of the commotion where they would undoubtedly get the best view. People cursed and shouted as they went, but they didn’t pay them any mind. This was their turf, after all. Why should they show manners to those who didn’t belong?

One by one they popped out from in between the bodies until nothing lay before them but empty dirt road. A plume of dust could be seen rising up in the distance, the galloping sound of horses muted by audible. “We made it just in time!” Elaine chirped excitedly, bouncing next to Ban.  

The cloud of dust got closer until they could make out three white horses, each with gold and silver bridles and saddles. ‘ Good to know that’s where our tax money is going.’ One villager muttered under their breath. ‘ Good for nothings don’t only have the nerve to ask for all of us to attend, but then have to flaunt their wealth too? What scum.’ Muttered another.

Meliodas looked around at the faces of the adults in attendance. What had seemed like excitement at first now gave way to something else. Each of the adults had their noses turned up in disgust, their faces smeared in distaste. What was going on?

The horses rushed into town, leaving all the people in a fit of coughs. By the time the dust had settled and they could get a look at the riders, they had already dismounted and were regarding the crowds.

Two knights stood behind a third man, blocking him from view. The knights were garbed head to toe in intricately etched iron armor, the nations crest proudly shown for all on their pauldrons. Their capes swished behind them, long, indigo sheets with the crest embroidered largely in the back as well.

The Lion crest of Soclos. A symbol that was supposed to make its citizenry feel safe, but more often than not just made them feel uneasy. The sitting Lion - the symbol of a King who had not seen war - perched atop a golden crown embezzled with colourful jewels. It was nothing more than a symbol of the tax collector these days, or someone demanding a free night at the inn.

The knights shifted as the third man, no doubt the priest they were escorting, made his way around the crowd. He looked younger than Meliodas would have expected him to look. The priest of their own monastery was an older, sickly man. This priest however, was garbed from head to toe in white. He wore a tall cap draped in indigo tapestries, all etched with gold. He was clean shaven, his face barely containing any wrinkles.

He ushered through the people, shaking hands as he went. Finally, he came to the children. Elaine shied behind Ban, who moved to shield her from the strange man. Meliodas took hold of Elizabeth’s hand, grasping it tightly as if to keep her there, next to him.

The priest leaned down to rest at eye level with the children. The gold chain around his neck dangled from the movement, the religious symbol for the church of Amstros swinging like a pendulum inches from his face. A single circle with three horizontal lines and two diagonal. Meliodas had no idea what it was meant to symbolize, though he was sure the clerics had probably explained it to him a hundred times.

Without a word, the priest simply ruffled their hair before moving down the crowd once more. It wasn’t long until he had exhausted all the people he could reach, returning to the center of the square. The knights returned to his side, their armor clanking with each step.

Within moments, Elizabeth’s uncle, Denzel Lioness, stepped forward from within the crowd. The two exchanged pleasantries, shaking hands and bowing to one another. After a moment, the priest cleared his throat deliberately, garnering the attention of everyone around him.

Meliodas had never felt so uneasy.

“Citizens of Caefall.” The priest let out a booming voice that demanded attention. “My name is Hendrickson, a Druidic high priest. With me are my escorts, Dreyfus and Raizer. I thank you all for taking the time out of your busy schedules to greet us. Truly, the Supreme Deity smiles upon your hospitality.”

He paused. A few adults whispered among themselves. “However. I’m sure you all know we do not come bearing good tidings.”

The crowds shifted. ‘ When has it ever been good news.’

‘Just tell us how many more of our sons we need to send and be on with it.’

“This year’s pilgrimage has been very humbling. I have traveled from the Northernmost Temples, and am ending with your lovely village. I have seen the effects of the war on both the land and its people. You have been blessed to have not been ravaged as so many others have - and for that, I praise the Deity.”

“This guy is amazing.” Ban whispered into Meliodas’ ear. “He opens his mouth and nothing but shit comes out!”

“Shh!”

“However,” Hendrickson continued, “it is our duty, both has followers of the Supreme Deity and his Majesty the King, that we give to aid all of our fellow countrymen. That is why I was chosen to make this trip. It is both your civic - and holy - duty to give to the holy kingdom of Britannia. For this, we ask that each house please offer as much as they are able.”

‘There it is.’

‘It’s never anything but money with these types.’

“Also, seeing as Caelfall has been untouched by the war, His Majesty ask that rations offered to the clergy and war effort be increased twofold.”

The chatter around the square grew, each person adjusting themselves uncomfortably at the news. They were already sending the bulk of their harvest to the city, barely leaving any for themselves. There was no way they could put up with those demands!

The knights tightened their stances, seemingly bracing for a rush towards Hendrickson. Denzel, however, stepped forward, halting the unrest instantly. Hendrickson nodded his thanks before continuing.

“Now, I understand that this may seem unfair. But I promise you it is only a temporary change. Please, see it in your hearts to offer all you can for the sake of Britannia. Once again, I thank you for your attention. I greatly look forward to seeing you all on my tour later.”

Without further prompting, the crowd began to disperse. The adults, none seemingly believing a word from the priests lips. Denzel stayed behind, chatting casually with Hendrickson.

“Come on Ban, let’s go look at the horses!” Elaine pulled at his shirt, leaning towards the stallions eagerly. “I’ve never seen a horse that big before!”

“Elaine!--” Ban began to scold her, but it was too late. She had lost her footing and had begun careening towards the knights. She landed face first at their feet, their horses ears perking up towards the sudden commotion. They all turned to look at the poor girl indignantly sprawled out before them.

Meliodas, Elizabeth and Ban all rushed forwards, each grabbing Elaine’s arms and pulling her back to a more dignifying stance. Elizabeth, noticing her uncles stare, tried to hide her face behind her hair to little avail. He shook his head disappointingly. “I’m sorry. My niece. I told her to stay back until later tonight.”

“It’s quite alright,” Hendrickson pat Denzel on the shoulder reassuringly, “I’m sure the children were just excited to see us.”

“We’re very sorry Uncle Den.” Meliodas said all the quickly, bowing his head as he and Ban pulled Elaine back to safety. “We’ll stay out of your hair, sir.”

They turned to leave, Meliodas gripping Elizabeth’s hand even tighter. Something about Hendrickson didn’t feel right. Like a milk gone sour, his presence left a bad taste in his mouth. Every bone in his body screamed to get away from him, to get Elizabeth away from him.

A tug came from his left. The hand that was holding on to Elizabeth had jerked him backwards. Hendrickson, a single hand laid on her shoulder, had kept her put when he tried to pull her away. Get away from him, get Elizabeth away from him. Get your filthy hands off of her!

“You, child.” Hendrickson’s voice now sounded as sweet as poison. It grated at Meliodas’ ears. “What is your name?”

Elizabeth blinked up at him. She looked unsure as to if she wanted to answer or not. Was she feeling the same unease he was? “She doesn’t need to give her name to strangers.” Meliodas spat before Elizabeth could answer.

“Hold your tongue boy!” Denzel snapped, “Your grandfather will be hearing of this outburst later, young man!”

Hendrickson rose his free hand, silencing Denzel. “Now Denzel, no need to be harsh. The boy was simply protecting his friend. You have to respect his bravery. Now I ask again, lass. What is your name?”

“... Elizabeth.” She croaked, voice low and shy. Uncharacteristic of Elizabeth. Get her away from here!

“There, you know her name!” Meliodas bit down hard, struggling to maintain some composure. “Are we free to go now?”

Hendrickson gave a small nod, the beginning of a wolfish smile creeping onto his features. Before he could be stopped again, Meliodas tugged hard on Elizabeth’s arm, pulling her away from the priest.

The children all ran towards the clearing, unaware of the holy man’s following gaze.

That night, Meliodas lay awake in bed. The sun had long since retreated beyond the horizon, and Ban, Elaine and Elizabeth had all gone home long ago.

Meliodas held up his parents dagger against the torchlight. The blade was clean, it’s edge sharpened to a deadly point. Small etchings of religious patterns lined the edge, leading towards a leather wrapped handle.

The blade had always given him an odd sense of comfort. Almost as if his parents could somehow protect him through nothing more than an old knife. It was ridiculous. He wasn’t a child anymore, so why was he believing in some stupid childhood folly as that?

He poked the tip of the blade into his index finger, allowing the metal to pierce the skin until blood began to bead at the tip. He watched as the liquid seeped from his veins, pooling against his skin until it gave out to gravity, dripping down steadily onto his bed.

Rest came over him slowly. Uneasiness washed over him like a sickening blanket, causing him to toss and turn all throughout the night.

The next morning, Elizabeth was gone.

Chapter Text

“The strongest of all warriors are these two — Time and Patience.”

― Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace

Steel sunk into straw effortlessly. The clean edge of the blade feeling more like an extension of himself, rather than a tool of war. He balanced the weight easily, bringing the blade back over his shoulder and swinging hard once more. The straw dummy sliced in two, it’s top half crashing to the dirt with a light thud . Soldier and blade, two working in tandem. It was as natural to him as breathing, and he would have it no other way.

Meliodas supposed if he had chosen any other profession, his tool of the trade would have eventually taken on the same feel. How long had it been since he first picked up the sword, struggling under its weight? Back then, he had felt like he would never make it as a soldier, that he would never work his way passed trainee.

But that was eight years ago. His childhood friend had just disappeared with no explanation nor reason. Confused, angry and bitter, Meliodas had taken his grandfather’s old sword, swinging it blindly until his hands bled.

He looked down at his hands now, unwrapping them from the linen wrappings he used during training. Hard calluses wrapped around each finger, several disfiguring scars leaving valleys against his skin. They served as permanent reminders of where a training sword had hit too hard, or even where he had been too careless around an exposed blade, reminders of the dangers of the weapons he so revered.

He gazed down at his sword, it’s edge glinting in the sunlight. A weapon meant to protect - but also a weapon designed to kill. It was a responsibility he didn’t take lightly; something he couldn’t say about some of his other soldiers.

“Yo!” Ban poked his head around the corner of the training grounds. He cocked his eyebrow, tilting his head towards the sword. “What’s the matter, Mel? Your hands still hurt?”

“No.” Meliodas shook his head somberly. It hadn’t been long since his last misstep with a blade, but the wound had long healed since then. It was, however, enough to make him begin wearing the wrappings.

Meliodas sighed, clenching his fist and opening it again. “Just thinking,” He spoke openly, “it’s been so long already.”

“Yeah, It’s been eight whole years already.” Ban slunk closer towards Meliodas, “I can hardly believe it myself.”

It had been eight years - nearly down to the day - since they had taken off to join the military. Meliodas had jumped on the junior program nearly the moment it was offered to him, Ban following not too far behind him. The training was grueling, backbreaking and even soul shattering at times - but they had made it through somehow. Six full years of training, followed up two years of active duty.

Time sure did fly.

“To think, we were both only 13 years old. We could barely lift a sword back then.” Meliodas remincensed somberly. “Man, my old man was so pissed. I thought for sure he was going to kill me before I even got the chance to leave.”

Ban picked up a wooden training sword, testing its weight on the tips of his fingers. “Man, you had it easy! My mother nearly did kill me when I told her. Of course, the complaints stopped once the salary started rolling in.”

Ban swung the sword deftly forward, halting the blow seconds before it collided with the ground. He looked up at Meliodas, giving him a toothy grin. If nothing else, he was so glad that Ban had chosen to come train with him. The years were less lonely with him around, and he always had a way of cheering him up.

“Speaking of,” Ban continued. “Have you written your old man lately?”

Meliodas stiffened, guilt racking at his core. “No. Last I heard he wasn’t in the best health. I’m worried my letters won’t have a destination to be sent to soon.” He returned his blade to the weapons rack before turning to face Ban once more. “Have you written your mother? Elaine?”

“Yeah. The Inn’s doing great. Lots people fleeing war means more traveling, like it or not.” Ban leaned against his own wooden weapon, balancing his weight precariously against the handle. His face lit up with pride, “and Elaine has recently graduated with the clergy. She’ll be able to assist in sacrifices and sermons from now on.”

Meliodas pat Ban on the back, sharing in his joy of his lover’s accomplishment. He was proud of her, too. The little girl who once fell face first in the presence of the high priest of Amstros was now one of their clergy. It was a proud moment, indeed.

“And her brother?” Meliodas cocked an eyebrow towards Ban. The other man recoiled slightly, knowing the next question before it was even going to be asked. “Have you thought up a good way to ask his permission yet?”

“I’ll think of something eventually.” Ban deflected, waving his hand as if to dismiss the question entirely. “You know King. If it’s not worded exactly right, it’ll be a flat out no .”

“I don’t think you give him enough credit.” Meliodas chuckled, kicking the wooden sword from under Ban’s grip. Ban cursed as he stumble forward, a flurry of curses erupting from him. “If the man your sister was so madly in love with came and asked for your permission, it would be the same song and dance.” He teased.

Ban sneered. “Sure. But you should at least spare some sympathy for a man laying his life down for his country!”

They both laughed at the irony. Ban would just as soon see Britannia burn as he would die protecting it. He was in this profession for the coin. Nothing more, nothing less. Well, and to gain favour with his suitors brother, of course.

Meliodas couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. Ban had a family to go home to, a woman waiting to warm his bed, and a reason to continue to fight. But, what did he have to show for all of his own efforts? His family had been buried long ago, his only remaining relatives not far from the grave now. Other than holy women, no members of the opposite sex ever visited the garrison - so his exposure was lacking. Just what was he even fighting for?

If he were being honest with himself, he had forgotten the exact reason long ago. But, that also wasn’t entirely true. The fact was, he felt guilty. Guilty that he continued living when so many didn’t. Guilty that he could see the world without her .

It had been eight years without so much a word of what had happened to her. Eight years of questions. He didn’t even know if she was still alive . His hope of ever finding her had dwindled away years ago.

Perhaps, now, he only kept at it to prevent that fate from befalling anyone else.

He gazed up at the nations crest that blew on the rafters of the garrison. It was still unchanged from how it had been all those years ago. The tamed lion seemed to taunt him, even now. He had become a instrument for the powers that had once given him such grieve - a weapon for a king who lacked the spine to ever go out and fend for his own people himself.

The military was full of people like him. Outcasts with no skills other than killing. Their loyalty lay either to coin or another day of hot meals, but certainly not to the king.

“Hey, you two!” A soldier called out from beyond the training grounds, “We have a briefing starting soon! We’re all to meet in the grand master’s hall!”

Ban slapped Meliodas hard on the back, staggering the smaller man forward. “You heard the man. Time to find out how we're going to earn todays bread!”

Meliodas returned the sad smile, though they both knew it was no better than a con man's vixen grin.

The captain of the garrison was a slimy man of equally lucrative blood. Ludociel of Luitcoyt to the west. His family were feudal lords that came from an even longer line of Britannian blue bloods. He was equal parts snake as he was charmer, and Meliodas could think of no role more fitting for a man such as him than as one of the kings own guard.

Ludociel had long, lustrous black hair, telling of his western heritage. His build was large, though he clearly lacked the muscle out on from a life of actual hard work. But, his skills on the battlefield were still second to none; there were few men living in Britannia who could face his blade and live to tell of it.

Despite this, Meliodas had never seen the captain in battle personally. Perhaps he didn't see a reason to sully his blade on the likes of bandits, or perhaps his command simply never gave him the need to step further than the garrison. Regardless, many whispers still lingered that his reputation was nothing more than another fear tactic set to quell rebellion within the unit.

Today was one such of those days. After a short debriefing, daily assignments were handed out to each of the soldiers. Ban was to be sent to investigate a string of livestock murders in a town not far over, and Meliodas along with another man were meant to patrol the roads surrounding the garrison.

Ludociel was the eldest of three other brothers. Twins, Tamriel and Sariel, who were both stationed further south - and the youngest, Mael, who was the same age as Meliodas and Ban. Mael had trained alongside the two of them since they had first joined the military. But, despite equal training, Mael thought himself superior to the entire unit.

So knowing this, why was I assigned to patrol with this craven?!

If there was anyone in the garrison Meliodas couldn’t tolerate, it was Mael. The blue blood had come to the training program from a place of privilege, and it was by that privilege alone that Meliodas swore he wasn’t promptly booted out of the program. However, private training from top soldiers would see anyone improve - and that was exactly what had propelled Mael to where he was today.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Meliodas hated him for it, and he was sure Mael had hated him for his own humble beginning as well. The man had made it no mystery how he felt about commoners joining the ranks alongside the nobles. Seeing Meliodas climb the ranks, growing from trainee to nearly rising to the rank of General had made him a particular target for his ire.

Let him be angry. In the end they all bleed red anyways.

Mael was currently a few steps ahead of Meliodas, giving him a wonderful view of his back. That was Mael’s favourite way to be seen, apparently, since the man was always trying to see his way in front of Meliodas. By all accounts, Meliodas could not figure out what he had done to offend Mael so badly.

Mael was a muscular man, standing well above Meliodas’ below average height. He had long, pale hair that contrasted his brothers perfectly. He typically had a shy demeanor, but whenever Meliodas was involved he shed it entirely; becoming a ruthless shell of a man with no compassion whats so ever.

He sighed. This was going to be a long day.

Patrolling the garrison was important, but mindlessly boring. The only reprieve for suckers unfortunate enough to be stuck at this post was good company - and good company Mael was not.

He kept his eyes trained on the woods. Bandits and ruffians were known to make temporary lodgings in these woods. It was far enough from the border to be spared from the aftermath of the war, and the local towns were relatively well off. It was prime location for thieves and those hoping to make a living off of ransom money. Of course, that also meant that those hoping to enforce the law were seen with little enthusiasm by those hoping to do ill. They had seen many soldiers injured while patrolling these same roads.

Mael stretched impatiently, long, muscular arms flexing behind his head and causing his armor to rub together painfully. “Hey, shorty, what do you say we take a break. We been out here for hours.”

Meliodas nodded his response, ignoring his insult entirely. They both made their way towards an old stone block that had been left on the side of the road. It had been weathered considerably, weeds and grass already beginning to grow in and around the stone. They sat, pulling out a small cheesecloth that held their lunch.

Rations were nothing fancy. Some week old bread (or sometimes even older) and dried cheese. They washed it down with water - or if they were lucky, some milk. The bread was hard as a stone and digested no better than one, but food was food. Mael tore into his morsel like a wolf tearing into a carcass, chewing with equal vigor. “I don’t know why my brother would pair us up for this.” He began between mouthfuls. “I could easily patrol by myself. I don’t need you slowing me down.”

Meliodas took a swig of water, helping the dry food food slide down his throat painfully. Did this asshole really want to fight that badly? Normally, he would meet his insults with several of his own. But, the day was only half way through - another six or eight hours of this would be torture .

“Hey, shortcake, do you understand English, or am I speaking too fast for you?” Mael egged on further, clearly upset that Meliodas wasn’t biting at his provocations.

“The cheese is good.” Meliodas changed the topic entirely, “have you tried it yet?”

Mael looked at him bewildered. Meliodas continued. “We must have gotten a shipment recently. Tastes really fresh.”

“I’m not a big fan of cheese.” Mael said plainly. Bullshit he doesn’t like cheese. Meliodas had seen him tear through their supplies like a dog who hadn’t seen food for weeks.

Meliodas took out his cheesecloth, wrapping up the remainder of his meal. Bad company really could spoil an appetite. Setting the food aside, he reached under his arm piece, unclasping a small leather binding. Mael watched his every move with skepticism, but inched closer regardless.

He pulled out the small dagger - the only piece he had left of his parents - bound in worn leather. Mael moved in closer, interest peaked. Meliodas had always carried the knife on him, carefully maintaining it over last eight years. The sheath had begun to wear away, but the blade still looked brand new, it’s etchings still as clear as they were in his childhood.

“What’s that?” Mael prompted as he took a bite of cheese. Bastard .

“Just an old memento.” Meliodas replied, balancing the weight of the dagger against his palm. When he held it like this, he could almost imagine what it would have felt like to hold the hand of someone he loved like this. But really, it was no more than a reassurance. In a world ever changing, the dagger stayed with him through it all. It calmed him down - and did he ever need to be calmed down right now.

“It looks really fancy to just be some old memento." Mael spurred him on. “A family heirloom? The craftsmanship looks incredible on it.”

So the bastard likes knives, does he? Meliodas could work with this. “I guess you could call it that.” He lamented, “it was my late parents. I don’t know much else about it.”

“Your parents had good taste in weapons, at least. It’s not too long yet not too short, and the weight looks even.” Mael sounded almost sympathetic, “can’t say as much about the son, though.” He finished, killing whatever bonding moment they have have just shared. Typical.

He returned the dagger to it’s clasp, ending the conversation with the click of the leather. Mael opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by the sound of a scream off in the distance.

They both rose to their feet at once, Mael’s remaining food forgotten as they both searched the treeline. Their swords were drawn in the blink of an eye as they fell into position, looking for any movement beyond the woods. The scream sounded distinctly female, and both of them had to fight their adrenaline rich blood from simply making them bolt off blindly towards its source.

The scream came again. A flurry of movement to their left. They both took off towards it, deftly dodging the obstacles of the forest. Another scream, this time to their right. They flanked, both knowing from years of training where they needed to be without speaking a word. It wasn’t long before Meliodas was standing just out of sight of a small clearing. A group of bandits tugged roughly at a young girl who screamed, only to have a man kick her hard in the ribs.

Meliodas bit his lip, tasting blood. He had to remind himself to observe the situation before simply jumping in head first. Off in the opposite treeline, he saw Mael crouching ever closer towards the clearing. A single hand sign, and they both lunged forwards, taking the bandits by surprise.

They dispatched two of them easily, not giving them enough time to react to their sudden appearance. The other bandits began to flee, dropping the girl on the hard, forest floor.

Mael pulled out a small throwing knife from within his bootleg, taking aim and allowing the weapon to fly towards its target. The knife hit a third bandit square in the back, implanting itself like a morbid piece of jewelry.

The bandit collapsed with a shout, screaming that his legs wouldn’t move. Mael had severed his spine, paralzying the bandit. His companions looked back, contemplating if they should carry their comrade only to hesitate and leave him for dead as they disappeared into the trees.

Meliodas dropped his sword, falling to his knees to check on the girl. She couldn’t have been much older than 16. Her hair was wild and tangled, an eggshell white head scarf frayed around her neck. Her clothes weren’t in much better condition, her skirts caked with mud and blood.

The girl threw her arms around Meliodas, sobbing openly into his shoulder. Mael returned with the paralyzed bandit slumped over his shoulder. “Today just got a lot more interesting.”

Meliodas stood slouched against the door to the dungeons, straining to hear what was being discussed inside.

They had brought back the bandit, along with the woman who was meant to be their prisoner to the garrison. Ludociel had personally thanked both Mael and Meliodas for their catch before ordering them back to patrol.

The sun had long since gone down since then, their patrol over and night duties completed. Mael had retreated to his quarters for the night, the events of the day already done away with in his mind.

Normally, Meliodas would have left his involvement alone with that, as well. This wasn’t his first rescue, and it most certainly wouldn’t be his last, either. But… he just couldn’t shake it from his mind. The entire day patrolling, all he could see was her face as she sobbed, the way she desperately tried to readjust her headscarf as they escorted her to the garrison - the way her eyes seemed far off and distant when he tried to speak to her.

Ludociel was inside the dungeon room alongside another general. The bandit they had taken prisoner could be heard screaming out occasionally, followed quickly by Ludociel’s harsh chastisement. However, other than the occasional shouting, Meliodas couldn’t make out a word they were saying.

“Yo!” A voice startled Meliodas, causing him to jump. He crooned his head, seeing none other than Ban sauntering his way down the corridor. “I heard you had quite the eventful day.” Ban remarked as he approached. He stopped inches from the door, eyes widening as another bout of shouting erupted from within. “And from the sounds of it, an eventful night, too.”

“Do you know where they’re keeping the girl?” Meliodas asked flatly. Gossip spread fast around here, and Ban always seemed to be at the center of it.

“The girl?” Ban questioned, cocking an eyebrow. “Have you taken a fancy to her? You sly dog -”

“No.” Meliodas interrupted. “I just wanted to know if she was okay.”

Ban stretched out, leaning against the wall next to Meliodas casually. “Sure,” he winked, “if you insist, her grace is currently in good health in the captain’s quarters. The captain saw personally to her well being.”

“Her grace?” Meliodas asked, looking up at Ban. “She’s an Amstrite?”

“From the holy church of Ams. In the flesh.”

“What was she doing all the way down here?” Meliodas muttered. That explained the head scarf, but her clothes looked too plain to be from the church…

“Beats me.” Ban ran his hands through his hair. “They must be getting desperate.”

Another shout came from within the room, followed by a loud slam. Seconds later, Ludociel stepped out, slamming the door behind him. He stormed away in the direction Ban had come from. If he had noticed Meliodas and Ban, he gave no indication of it. That was both of their queues to leave.

“She’s being escorted back north in the morning.” Ban pushed himself off the wall, waving as he walked away. “So if I were you, I would go introduce myself now. Never know when another living, breathing woman will make an appearance around here.”

“I’m not interested.” Meliodas rolled his eyes. “Good night, Ban.”

Meliodas left the opposite direction of Ban, their rooms being in separate wings. He absentmindedly reached for the dagger, still clasped around his arm despite being out of armor. It was one thing to take some random village girl… what those men could have been planning with a holy woman was beyond him. Whatever their intentions, it was clearly for more than a simple ransom...

He rounded the corner, nearly colliding with Ludociel. Mael was with him, his arms crossed in uninterest. The brothers regarded Meliodas with mild disdain. Unfortunately, their hatred of him seemed to know no limits. “Meliodas.” Ludociel sounded sickeningly sweet, like he was trying to soften whatever it was he was about to say. “Just the man I was looking for.”

Meliodas didn’t try to hide the bewilderment that no doubt showed on his face. Mael turned his face in the other direction, muttering something under his breath in agitation. Lucociel shot Mael a look before returning his attention to Meliodas, a small smile plastered uncomfortably on his face.

“I wanted to thank you again for your hard work today.” Ludociel said robotically. What was with nobility and their compliments always sounding forced? “Britannia is indebted to you both.”

“It was nothing.” Meliodas replied, ignoring the way that Mael scoffed.

“If you haven’t heard, the woman you rescued today is actually an envoy from the head church of Ams to the north. She had gone missing a month prior when she had left to buy provisions. The church is very pleased to hear of her well-being.” Mael bit his lip, his knuckles going white from how hard he was clutching at his wrists. Ludociel placed a hand over his brothers, squeezing lightly. “I am assigning you and Mael to escort her back.”

Mael looked anything but thrilled. He opened his mouth, only to hold his tongue when his brother shot him a dangerous look. They exchanged a few hushed words before the conversation continued.

“Will anyone else be coming with us?” Meliodas asked, trying to lighten the tenseness in the air.

“No. The smaller the group the faster you can travel. Less attention will be drawn to a smaller unit as well.” Ludociel sighed. “You two are our best soldiers. I’m counting on you to get lady Diane home safely.”

Meliodas stomped his feet together, straightening his stance as he saluted Ludociel. “I won’t let you down, sir.” Mael did not salute, scoffing at his brother who gave him one last warning glare.

Ludociel nodded his approval “You better not.” Stepping aside, Ludociel stalked down the halls, pinching the bridge of his nose until he disappeared down the other hall. Meliodas held his stance until his captain was out of sight, relaxing only once he was sure he wasn’t coming back. Mael was regarding him like a roach, disgust evident on his upturned face. He made no motion to leave, staying slouched in the center of the hall and blocking Meliodas’ path. “You know I’m not too happy about this.”

“When are you ever happy about anything?” Meliodas spat back. Mael’s rotten attitude was really starting to get to him. “If you hate me so much, why don’t you ask to be taken off the mission.”

“Don’t you think I already asked, dumbass?” Mael grit his teeth. “There’s no one else skilled enough to guard someone as important as Diane. My brother’s words, not mine.” Meliodas rolled his eyes. Why was he even bothering saying any of this to him? It was so much easier when he was just ignoring him.

Mael closed the gap between them, squaring his shoulders and dwarfing Meliodas even further. He gazed down at him almost in pity, brushing against him roughly. “Take this as your warning. Stay out of my way, and we’ll get through this as quickly and painlessly as possible.”

Meliodas pushed passed Mael. He didn’t have the energy to put up with this nonsense right now. He had to prepare. The temple of Ams was a week away, even by horseback. He ran his fingers over the dagger. This would be the first time Meliodas would go to Northern Britannia. He wondered if she had ever been…

With a sigh, Meliodas set to packing, a slight pang of guilt staying with him through the night.

Chapter Text

“Great minds are always feared by lesser minds.”

― Dan Brown, The Lost Symbol

He was standing on an unknown cliff, staring down at an unfamiliar landscape. The sound of war erupted all around him, and the air smelled of blood and cinders. He couldn’t tell friend from foe, his eyes burned from the ashes that billowed up from below.

In a word, it was hell.

His left arm protested against every movement, cracking painfully and making him see stars. He knew he had to push forward; it was a coward’s death to die now while his comrades fought below.

His mind screamed at him to move, but his body simply would not respond. Why couldn’t he move?!

A soft tug came from behind him, and he crooned his neck to see. His sword clambered to the ground below, his knees finally giving out.

Elizabeth, no older than the last day he saw her - her hair still tangled with wild grass and flowers - stood behind him. Her face was bloodied, her gown stained in both old and fresh blood. She looked at him with lifeless eyes, filled with nothing but hatred.

Elizabeth! He tried to say, but his mouth would not open.

“Why didn’t you try to save me?” She said, voice gurgling and guttural. “Why didn’t you try to look for me?”

Guilt washed over him. That wasn’t true. He had spent every day for months begging Denzel to tell him what had happened. He had pestered the adults and the clergy for just as long. He had even went as far as to venture out of the village himself. But, unable to speak, he was unable to explain how hard he had tried.

Even when she was right in front of him, he still couldn’t reach her.

She cocked her head to the side, tangled hair falling around her small body like a mangled halo. She reached behind her, pulling out a twisted knife - the same etchings as his parents decorating it’s blade.

“Why did you forget about me?”

Meliodas sprang awake. His skin was clammy with sweat and his bedsheets were tangled in and around his legs as if he had been kicking through the night. He slapped himself on the cheeks hard, attempting to awaken his senses back to the real world.

He hadn’t had that dream since he was a child. So why now?

Sunlight had already begun to shine through the cracks of his window panes. It was still early morning, but there was no point in trying to fall back asleep now. The last thing he needed was to go back to that dream…

Throwing off his damp sheets and shedding his soiled sleeping clothes, Meliodas strutted towards his wash basin. He splashed his face and body with the freezing cold liquid, grateful for the way it alerted his senses. Shivering, he dried off quickly, dressing in simple cotton clothing and clasping the dagger against his arm as he headed out towards the training area.

He unsheathed the blade absentmindedly as he went, twirling it expertly between nimble fingers. Its weight had always been a comfort for him, a way to still his mind. But now… now all he could think of was the dream.

Turning the dagger on its side, he examined the etchings that glinted in the early morning light. He had never given them much thought, simply passing it off as some decoration. It was never anything more than the last keepsake he had of his parents. Where it had come from or what it had been used for before had never crossed his mind. But, seeing the way that Mael had observed it had him thinking twice.

If nothing else, maybe it could be a topic for the grueling task he had set out before him. Maybe this was his ticket to making his time with Mael more than just hostile.

Meliodas grimaced. Great . He had almost forgotten about the mission. Dread weighed him down instantly. Just think, it's only a few weeks, at most.

Nope. That wasn't helping.

He gripped the dagger tight. He had never been in the best standing of Ludociel, but for him to assign him on this mission with his little brother was too much. There were plenty of other soldiers just as capable as he was - if not more - who could have assisted Mael in escorting the holy woman back.

It was no use pondering the intentions of a madman. With a sigh, Meliodas placed the dagger back in it’s rightful place, rounding the bend that would lead to the courtyards. The garrison was empty this time of day, only those returning from night duties or those assigned with early morning tasks wandered the halls.

A swish of white caught his eye, the unmistakable robes that the clergy women wore. She was leaning against a small stone ledge that looked out onto the courtyard, her elbows propping up her head. She looked almost dreamy, as if she still wasn’t entirely awake.

Quietly, Meliodas approached her, leaning on the window beside her. “Can’t sleep?”

She jumped slightly, obviously not paying enough attention to notice him approaching. “Oh!” the holy woman exclaimed, clutching at her chest, “I'm sorry. I must not have heard you come over.”

Meliodas leaned forward, gazing out onto the courtyard, imagining what it was that stole her attention. “oh my!” she continued, not giving him a chance to respond, you're the guy who saved me the other day!”

“Meliodas.” He said with a warm smile, balancing the weight of his head against his hand.

“Meliodas.” She repeated. She bowed deeply, her hair covering her face. “Thank you very much for rescuing me. I don't know how I could ever repay you.”

He waved the formality away, tapping against the stone beside him, signaling for her to join him again. “Don’t mention it. I'm just glad you're okay….?”

“Diane!” She finished for him. A light blush dusted her cheeks. She twirled a lock of hair between her fingers as she took her spot beside him once more, covering her mouth with the lock as she returned her gaze out the window. “Sorry, I've always been told I need to work on my manners.”

“Please, some novice knight like myself doesn’t do well with pleasantries.” He chuckled. “I’m not some noble, you can be as casual with me as you wish.”

“I couldn’t do that!” Diane exclaimed, “I really do owe you more respect than that! Who knows what would have become of me if those thugs had it their way…. If you hadn’t shown up when you had…”

Meliodas placed his hand gently over her own, stopping her from rambling on further. “It’s no good to think about the possibilities.” He said, shaking his head. “Trust me. Nothing good comes from it.”

The dream flashed back in his mind, unsettling him further. Diane’s gaze softened, sympathy laced in her face. He turned to look back out the window, hoping his unease didn’t show in her body language.

“So!” Meliodas said cheerfully, “I’ve never been up North. Can you tell me what it’s like?”

“You’ll see for yourself soon enough.” A harsh voice came from behind. They both turned to see Ludociel, standing with his arms behind his back. He tapped his foot impatiently, sneering down at Meliodas before turning his attention towards Diane.

“Lady Diane, I have not finished debriefing you. A moment, if you’d please?”

Diane turned to Meliodas ruefully. She mouthed a quick ‘ I’m sorry ’ before skipping off towards Ludociel, walking off in the direction of his office.

“And Meliodas,” Ludociel paused, keeping his back towards him as he spoke. “If I were you I would spend this time preparing, not making friends.”

Meliodas’ eyes narrowed, another uneasy wave of skepticism pulsing through his veins. “Of course sir.”

He turned back towards the courtyard, gazing out at the dirt and grass, a foul taste lingering in his mouth

Sweat dripped off of his face, dropping to the dirt below and instantly soaking into the parched soil. He was out of breath, his grip weak around the hilt of his training blade; but his mind was clear.

Replacing the wooden blade to its place on the rack, he took towards his room. The sun was already well over the horizon, leaving him little time to wash and prepare.

The garrison was already beginning to fill with bodies, each soldier dressed and equipped for the day as they returned from the mess hall of shower room. Meliodas said his greetings, and to other, his goodbyes as he walked through the cobblestone halls.

A cry caught his attention. He stopped, holding his breath and listening for the sound again. The cry came again, weak and raspy as it bounced off the walls, sounding like a ghosts wail. The sound was coming in the direction of the dungeons. But, it was far too early to begin interrogations, wasn't it?

Curiously overcame his common sense, and Meliodas crept up towards the large wooden doors of the dungeon. Carefully, he pushed the door open and peered inside. To his surprise, the room was empty, only prisoners chained up to the wall or leaning against the iron bars of cells inhabited the space.

When the prisoners saw him, they erupted into a flurry of curses in various languages. Others, accepting of their capture, simple turned their nose towards him, ignoring his presence entirely.

One prisoner glared towards him with piercing hatred. His eyes burned from the look alone, and Meliodas recognized him as the bandit Mael had captured the other day.

He was chained up uncomfortable against the wall, his wrists and hands a deep purple from prolonged pressure. His legs were limp under him, small whimpers of pain betrayed him as he tried to adjust to a more comfortable position, failing each time.

Closing the door quietly behind him, Meliodas entered the dungeon room. The air was thick with evil - but in reality it was simply overly humid. The entire room stunk of mold and the iron scent of old blood. While prisoners were typically left to be dealt with by the royal guard of the city, that hardly stopped interrogators torturing them in the meantime.

Meliodas had never been assigned to dungeon duty, but Ban had. He did not envy his friend on those days, and many times the man had returned with a vacant look in his eyes.

“What, your companion had enough of me?” the bandit spat at Meliodas. “Or are you tired of the whore already?”

Meliodas cocked an eyebrow, “My companion? You mean the tall, hulking dumbass of a man?”

The bandit narrowed his eyes, clearly agitated that his provocations had failed. “Yeah, that’s the one. The fucker who paralyzed me and then proceeded to torture a poor cripple.”

In the dim light Meliodas could make out the purple bruises that wrapped around his body like some kind of morbid jewelry. His clothes were tattered and stained with blood in various places, particularly on his legs. Despite the nausea, Meliodas couldn’t feel sympathy for the bandit. “Dangers of the occupation. You’re one who kidnapped a holy woman.”

The bandit scoffed, laughing pitifully between fits of coughs and winces of pain. “You can think whatever you want. We were only taking back what was rightfully ours.”

“I would hold my tongue, if I were you.” Meliodas whistled, thumbing at the hilt of his blade. “I may have a better temper than Mael, but even the saints have their limits.”

The bandit seemed to consider his words for a moment, his eyes flitting between the sword at Meliodas’ hip and his face. “You’re not one of them.” The bandit finally said. “One of the blue bloods, I mean. Nobility.”

He did not respond.

“You can try to act all high and mighty, but it shows in your demeanor.” The bandit continued. “You carry yourself like the rest of us. So, you understand, right?”

“No.” Meliodas responded flatly. “I don’t.”

“They take everything from us. Our food, our money, our children. I used to be a farmer by the border, you know that? I had a wife and kids - two sons. My life was hard, but peaceful, until the church came, that is.”

Meliodas remembered when the priest, Hendrickson had come to his small southern town of Caelfall. He remembered the way the townsfolk murmured their disapproval, his demands for increased provisions and taxes - the way his grandfather had been worked nearly to death for months afterwards simply to meet quota.

And... he took Elizabeth away.

“I can see it in your face, that you understand what I’m talking about.” The bandit said all too eagerly. “They took my sons for their war, they increased our provision quotas until I had lost my farm. With no money and no home, my wife couldn’t afford treatment when she was sick, so she died, painfully and slowly. I had no choice. I had to take back something in return, to make them pay for all they had done to us, to my family. ”

Meliodas twirled a finger around the bevel. “Kidnapping an innocent woman will not get your revenge against the church.” He was getting tired of his drivel. He had no reason to entertain this scum, anyways. He turned to leave, prepared to end the conversation with that. The bandit laughed, stopping him in his tracks.

“Do you really think you would be a mutt for the military if they had not interfered in your life? Honestly? Truly? They’ve taken something from all of us. A single woman isn’t enough to get back at them.”

Meliodas turned, taking a step forward, gripping at the hilt of his blade tight. “You make it sound like you plan to take more.”

From this close, he could smell the rank on the man’s breath as he grinned. A sly grin, one filled with malicious intent. If he were going to talk, Meliodas did not let him, punching him hard in the stomach and gripping at his shirt. He pulled him up off the ground effortlessly, his legs dangling like a dead fowls beneath him.

“I don’t care about your motives, I think you’re as sick as they come. If you thought you could win over my sympathy with a sob story, you were wrong.” Meliodas was calculated, his anger never once showing in his voice despite his harsh words. “Bastards like you don’t deserve anything but death.”

The bandit coughed, but did not struggle. He grinned down at him, his expression never once changing. “Then what does that make you?”

Meliodas pinned him hard against the stone wall behind them, digging his elbow into his chest and pushing the air out from him. He smiled ruefully, cooing against his ear. “What about me?”

“You’re helping them kill our own countrymen.” He rasped, “I may be no better than scum, kidnapping a woman, but at least I don’t have the blood of thousands of our countrymen on my hands.”

The door creaked open, but he did not move. The bandit struggled weakly against his grip, eyes widening as he glanced towards the door.

“ Meliodas! ” Lucociel’s stern voice cut through the mold in the air. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

He loosened his grip only marginally. “Nothing sir. This one here was making too much noise. I could barely daydream the time away with the incessant moaning”

Ludociel looked from Meliodas to the bandit held up in his arms. He did not reprimand him for stepping out of line, or even for stepping into a post that was not his. He motioned for him to drop the man. Meliodas dropped him carelessly, a loud scream of pain erupting from him as his wrists took the brunt of his weight once again.

“Please, leave the vermin to the ones assigned to him.” Ludociel said uncompassionately, scoffing as he said the word ‘vermin’. “My brother has been looking for you. It’s time to head out.”

“Of course, Sir.” He saluted, clicking his heels together at attention before heading out the door. He didn’t once look back, but he already knew Ludociel was not following after him.  The faint murmuring of chatter echoed through the door he had just come from, soon replaced with a gut wrenching scream.

He did not turn back.

Ban whistled through the sleepy halls of the garrison, listening to the eerie sounds echo back at him in an offbeat tune. He had just returned from his patrol of a nearby town, spending the rest of the remaining sunlit hours at it’s bar. Needless to say, time moved very differently to a drunk, and by the time he had left the moon was already high in the sky.

His armor slacked against itself as he stumbled along, having loosened its fit to make it more comfortable. His head was beginning to pound with the beginnings of a hangover, his bed calling to him like a siren’s song. If he was lucky, maybe the courier had arrived with a new letter from home.

He grinned like a madman imagining what his love would have written to him this time. What tales she had to recount, what she had eaten for dinner that was especially delicious - anything she could say would capture his imagination and set butterflies in his stomach. Elaine’s face lighting up as she chewed thoughtfully, perhaps her brow furrowed in frustration as she struggled with some ancient text. Maybe she would have convinced her brother to allow her to marry this time.

Lost in his thoughts, Ban hardly noticed as Ludociel stalked through the halls ahead of him. His superior halted in his tracks, face locked in a seemingly permanent scowl as he spun on his heel to address Ban. He saluted him, continuing to whistle, but not stopping in his beeline towards his room.

“Soldier.” Ludociel said sternly as he stepped in front of Ban, blocking him from moving any further. “It is well past any acceptable time to be returning.”

Ban chuckled heartily, throwing an arm haphazardly around his superior’s shoulders. “Come on, Cap’n! Think of it this way - at least I came back!”

He erupted in a fit of laughter. The humour was lost on Ludociel, who simply shrugged Ban off of him and continued on his way. Whatever he had wanted to say to him was now long forgotten.

“The courier came by today.” Ludociel said annoyed before he turned the corner. “Since it took you so long to come back, I had them leave the letters in your room.”

Slightly sobered by the promise of Elaine’s sweet writings, Ban waved off Ludociel before rushing off towards his room. He nearly slammed the door off of it’s hinges when he got there, rushing towards his desk which, as promised, held a number of parchment letters sealed with colourful, pressed wax.

Ban snatched up the pile of letters eagerly, shifting through each one. One from his sister, his mother, some addressed from bars of various towns, others threats and IOU’s. Finally, he recognized the swooping lettering that could be from no one but Elaine. He tossed the other letters back on his desk, kicking his feet up as he plopped on his bed, letter pressed to his chest.

The letters scattered on his desk, a single piece of paper from Meliodas drifting peacefully to the ground underneath.

Chapter Text

“Yet it would be your duty to bear it, if you could not avoid it: it is weak and silly to say you cannot bear what it is your fate to be required to bear.”

― Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre

It was almost uncanny how quickly time passed, especially after dreading something for so long.

The week of travel to get to the Northern temple passed in relative silence. Mael had not spoken much through the trek - not that Meliodas had minded. He filled most of his time speaking with Diane, who was infinitely better company than the brooding log of a man, anyways.

Regardless, He couldn’t help but find it odd that Mael had mainly kept to himself these past five days. He knew he was more reserved -that it took him longer to open up to others - but once he did, he would banter on for hours like a man whose blood had turned to alcohol.

Similarly, Diane was much more reserved than when he had first spoken to her that morning they set out, as well. One moment she was bubbly, speaking openly - the next, she seemed timid, looking towards Mael as she fiddled with her hair, (a nervous habit Meliodas had picked up on fairly early on).

Meliodas couldn’t shake the bad taste this sudden shift in her had given him.

They had kept mostly off the path, fearing that the group of thugs would be on the lookout for Diane. Meliodas had told Ludociel and Mael what the captive one had said to him, but his concerns were brushed off by both. Regardless, he had still asked Ban to keep an eye on the bandit while they were gone - and more importantly, Ludociel's behaviour around him.

Something about the brother’s attitude since they had rescued Diane had set off as many alarms as Diane’s shift in attitude. Normally, they were all but too quick to chastise or reprimand him; but now, it was almost as if they were too eager to get him and everything to do with Diane away from them. If that were the case, they almost must have said something to Diane that would buy her silence. She didn’t seem the type to keep many secrets, after all.

In any case, no messengers in any towns on the way had any news from Ban. Perhaps he was just being paranoid and reading too much into it. But, knowing Ban, he may have simply forgotten or misplaced his letter.

Meliodas watched Mael from the corner of his eye. He was stepping in tune with the horse Diane was perched on, holding the reins loosely. The horse was well trained and patient as a saint, putting up with their many stops and nights out in the woods. Diane patted the horses neck lovingly as it trudged along, cooing soft praises against its ear. The horse, meant for war and military, took kindly to the out-of-place affection, becoming more and more spoiled as time went on - and stubborn.

Diane balanced herself precariously on the horses back, both legs draped over on one side since her garb didn’t allow for much flexibility. She tried to stifle a yawn, failing miserably in her attempt. They had been on the road since daybreak, and the sun was now setting beyond the horizon.

“We should rest up for the night soon.” Mael said stoically, glancing up towards the canopy of the forest and squinting against the evening light.

Diane shook her head, her pigtails flapping like dog ears against her face. “We’re so close, though.”

She wasn’t wrong. The air had grown bitterly cold, the scent of the sea carried along with it. They were maybe a day trek away, at best. Regardless, night brought with it uncertainty - and uncertainty was something they couldn’t afford right now.

“I think it’s a good idea.” Meliodas replied, offering Diane a reassuring smile. “There should be a town not too far off. We can stay there for the night and surprise everyone at the priory in the morning.”

Diane pouted, but did not retort. Her face scrunched up as she fought another yawn. It was moments like these that reminded him just how stubborn she actually was. Those bandits had chosen the wrong girl to kidnap. She must have given them one hell of a time.

The town wasn't too far away, and the trio managed to make it to an in minutes before the world was basked in overwhelming darkness. Mael paid for the room, tossing Meliodas the keys as he made his way outside.

“I'm going to make sure the horse is set for the night.” Mael said all too enthusiastically. “if I see you trashed my stuff when I get back I'm going to kill you.”

There was the Mael Meliodas recognized.

The door slammed shut behind him, leaving Meliodas and Diane to carry their meagre belongings upstairs. He couldn't help but notice the hushed whispers all around them.

‘ What is she doing here.’

‘Just stay on your mountain, troll, and leave us alone.’

Diane must have taken notice to this as well, trying futilely to cover her face with her headscarf as she rushed up the stairs.

‘ Good. I don't want to stay here if that monster is as well ‘

‘How could they even give her a room?’

Meliodas looked back towards the top of the stairs, but Diane was already gone. Disregarding the whispers, he found her in front of the room they were assigned, unlocking the bolt with the iron key Mael had given him.

Diane rushed in without a word, leaving Meliodas to pack their things away for the night, (being extra careful with Mael’s, least he wanted a dagger in his own back in the middle of the night). Diane plopped herself on one of the two beds, twirling her hair between her fingers anxiously.

“I wouldn’t let their banter get to you.” He tried to reassure her as he sat adjacent to her on the other bed. “I don’t understand much about the church or whatever, but their words can only hurt you as much as you let them.”

Diane pulled her hair over her mouth, hiding her face even further from view. “I know that… It’s just… The church does so much for them. I can’t help but take it personally.”

“Then why don’t you tell me about it?” Meliodas asked with a soft smile. Diane’s eyes widened, almost as if she were confused by his prompt. “I’m not from around here. What was it like growing up, what is it like at the temple? I’m all ears if you’ll tell me.”

“It’s nothing worth telling.” Diane turned to face away, hands still in her hair. What is she so nervous about?

“Come on,” Meliodas whistled, leaning forward and pursing his lips. “I really, really want to hear it!”

“Fine! If it’ll get you to stop doing what that is!” Diane shimmied back on the bed. “But I promise you, it’s really nothing fancy.”

Meliodas got comfortable, beaming from ear to ear. “Can’t be much more boring than farming or military training.”

Diane took a deep breath, sighing audibly. But she relaxed, and for that, Meliodas was relieved. Despite her tough demeanor, Diane still had a fragile heart - just like anyone else.

With a deep inhale, Diane began.

“It was hard for me, growing up. I didn’t make friends very easily, and most of the people in my village ignored me. I was born near the border, and most of my town were expected to be soldiers. The kids would always taunt the enemy units and pull stupid stunts to test their bravery. But, I was a coward. I didn’t want to fight - I wanted peace… It ultimately got someone I cared for very deeply injured. For that, I was shunned.”

Diane paused, thinking about whether or not she should continue. Meliodas took a breath of his own, hinged onto every word. He urged her to go on, and Diane continued.

“I had never known about the priory or the church back then. But then, Father Hendrickson came to town.”

His blood ran cold at the mention of his name. The dagger on his arm suddenly burned his skin as the air became almost too thick to breathe.

He remembered Hendrickson, clear as day. The python man who had an eye on Elizabeth. He remembered the way he strode into town that day, demanding money that probably wasn’t even meant for the crown, the way he had shattered his world when he vanished in the middle of the night, Elizabeth gone without a goodbye.

“He probably saw that I looked lonely,” Diane continued, “thinking back on it, I probably did look really pathetic back then. He approached me and made me feel welcome for the first time in my life. He took me under his wing and showed that there was a way to live my life without fighting - a way to help others without being on the battlefield.”

“Is that really the case though?” Meliodas muttered just under his breath, besides himself. He lowered his gaze, hoping Diane wouldn’t be able to see the mixed emotions swirling in his mind.

“It is the case!” Diane snapped, bolting to rest on her knees and throwing her arms out for emphasis. “I know you heard what the townspeople were saying about me, but none of it is true! The church has done everything in its power to protect them and give them a better life! Father Hendrickson is not the type of man who would take without giving!”

Meliodas did not flinch at her outburst, instead remaining stoic and calm. His mind raced faster than he could keep up with them, only one common question burning his tongue.

“You lived at the Northern Temple, correct? Tell me, Diane. Was there someone named Elizabeth there?”

The door creaked open and Mael trudged in with heavy steps. He threw his arms over his head, stretching loudly as he walked over to the bed Meliodas was seated on. He looked from Meliodas to Diane, then back again. No emotion showed on his face, his body remained lax. “Making the lady cry, scum?” He said finally, “I was only gone a few minutes. You’ll never find a wife like that, not that any woman would ever want to stuck with you, anyways.”

“I need some air.” Meliodas stood abruptly, heading towards the exit in a rush. Behind him he could hear Mael say something to Diane, but he no longer cared to listen.

“Don’t think I’m giving you back this bed, runt. You can sleep on the floor tonight!” Mael called out after him. He closed the door a little too roughly.

Fuck off.

The marble tiles of the temple were hard against her knees. She stayed, kneeling in prayer, pushing through the pain.

Before her was a large, immaculate marble carving of the Supreme Deity - the object of her reverence since she was a child. Her face was covered with a thin veil, for her true radiant beauty could never be captured by man nor artist. Four sets of wings protruded from her back, fanning behind her in various angles. Her gown came down in a fluid drape, covering her feet. She was the perfect being. A woman of endless beauty and grace. The symbol of Britannia and her divine excellency.

As an envoy to the church of Ams, the head of the larger Amstros body - she was expected to be an image just as the statue before her. She had trained for years, honing her patience, her gait, even her mind. She was chosen after all, by the head of the church to take on the role as its next leader.

She clutched at the holy symbol around her neck tightly, feeling it’s golden etchings imprint into her palms. She continued to pray, pushing through the discomfort. Praying for rain to the south, praying for tyranny to end, praying for Britannia, and finally, praying for the friends whom she had lost long ago, in another life.

“Elizabeth.” A voice boomed through the sanctuary, echoing off the walls and amplifying its intensity. She jumped, turning towards the intruder.

“Father Hendrickson.” Elizabeth replied casually with a smile. His retainers, Dreyfus and Raizer stood on either side of him, keeping close by his heel as he approached. She had always thought it odd that he kept those two around, even in the sanctuary. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“What, I can’t visit my envoys from time to time?” Hendrickson teased, extending his arms in an open show of good will. “I simply missed my best student, is all.”

“You flatter me father.” Elizabeth rose painfully, her knees creaking in protest. Her feet tingled with the sensation of blood rushing back into her veins. Despite the wobble in her stance, she bowed politely.

“I speak the truth.” Hendrickson continued. “Since the first time I laid my eyes on you I could sense that you were blessed by the Deity. How right my intuition was. It truly was fate.”

There was a time that she would have refuted him, calling it anything but ‘fate’. But, she was also nothing more than a bitter, confused child then who could not see the hand of the Supreme Deity in the inner workings of the world.

She could still remember it as if it were yesterday. The hill, with Ban, Elaine and Meliodas. She remembered the way Elaine tripped when she tried to see the horse. That was Hendrickson’s first appearance in her life.

She could still remember that night. Her uncle calling her into the kitchen, only to see Hendrickson sitting comfortably at the table. His long fingers tapped against the wood, his eyes piercing through her.

“My dear, darling Elizabeth.” Her uncle had said as he stood up from behind Hendrickson. “You know I love you with all my heart. My brother - your father - meant the world to me.”

Elizabeth had blinked in confusion. What did her father have to do with anything, she thought back then. He had passed away in a raid on the city. The mention of her father had made her eyes sting with years, but she bit them back to avoid crying in front of the chameleon man.

“It took me a long time to get into contact with father Hendrickson,” Her uncle continued, “but  I think it would be best if you go to study under him at the main temple in the North.”

“Why?!” Elizabeth had blurted out. She had let the tears fall then. Her friends, her family, her town - why was it all being taken away from her again?

It wasn’t easy for a small child who was barely 13 to understand, but over time she had grown to love the Temple. It was all in her design, and if it pleased the Supreme Deity, she would do anything.

Elizabeth smiled. “Yes. It was all by the Supreme Deities will that I came to be here. I cannot thank you enough for all these years, Father.”

Elizabeth gazed up at the statue of the Supreme Deity, whispering a small prayer towards her god. Through her grace, she knew she would always be where she needed to be. She was no more than a pawn to her design, and she happily accepted this.

Hendrickson did not reply to her, instead staring up at the statue in tandem. Dreyfus and Raizer held their stance beside him, hands on their hips and ready to draw their blades at a moments notice. It was them who noticed the intruder before Elizabeth or Hendrickson, spinning on their heel to face the woman who rushed into the sanctuary.

She huffed as she approached, her small stride wearing her out as if she had been running for hours. Once she caught her breath, she whispered something to Dreyfus before bowing, taking her leave as soon as she had arrived.

Elizabeth did not move, nor did Hendrickson speak when his retainers exchanged a slight nod. Dreyfus approached Hendrickson, whispering something to him before taking another step back to his post. She could not hear what he had said to the Father, but whatever it was had made his body tense and face twitch.

“Father,” Elizabeth dared to speak, “is everything alright?”

He smiled a ghost of a smile -- one that would convince any other person, but not Elizabeth. She could see in the way he fiddled with the hem of his sleeves, the twitch in his cheeks and the sudden, stiff breaths that something was wrong.

“Please, go attend to it.” Elizabeth coaxed before he could reply. “I am an adult now and can read the air just fine. I am fine on my own. So, please.”

Hendrickson glanced towards Dreyfus and Raizer. The attendants nodded, turning on their heels and marching back towards the large, wooden doors to the sanctuary. Without a moment hesitation, Hendrickson closed the gap between himself and Elizabeth, pulling her into a tight embrace.

“Thank you, Elizabeth. You truly are one of a kind.”

The next thing she knew, he was gone; left with nothing but the empty space of the room, the sweet scent of smoke and incense, and the too-tight feeling that still stuck to her skin from his embrace.