Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"You", he said, "are a terribly real thing in a terribly false world and that, I believe, is why you are in so much pain." - Alice in wonderland

That particular heave must have stung, by the looks of it. It probably did. After all, her screams wouldn’t measure up to this if it didn’t.

„Does she regret it?“ he thought. The woman screamed, but the heaves didn’t stop because of it.

“She must be.” It would be stupid if she didn’t. Why risk something like this, for a silly thing like love? Was this worth it?

The woman screamed again.

Her lovers head, the fairys’, was already on the ground. He had died a few minutes ago, while the girl was watching. A demon sleeping with a fairy was treason, and her head should be lying next to his too. Fortunately, or unfortunately perhaps, she had gained the favor of his father some time ago. Gods know how. He sure didn’t want to. 

Meliodas had watched this situation more often than he could count. It had been shocking the first time, and he remembered clinging to Chandlers robes because he didn’t want to see it. Now, he just stood his ground, watching. He had learned to, because it was far better than facing the consequenses of looking weak. 

And people were cheering. Laughing at the demon and her lovers severed head. Meliodas wished he could laugh like those people too. He whished he could have the smirk his father wore as he told he executioner to swing his axe. Like the king was expected to. Like he himself was expected to. 

“Execution,” Chandler said, back in the safety of his classroom, where no one but his teacher could see him,  “is a punishment worthy for a traitor, even if one could see it as mercy. Traitors, after all, have their own circle in hell.”

Everyone, of course, knew this. Because in the demon realm, in his realm, there was but one rule.

Do not fall in love.

Or else, you would end up like those two. Dead and tortured and hundreds of people laughing at you and cursing your name. Screaming and begging to finally go to that one circle in hell. A simple concept really.
Don’t fall in love.

Watching them, in this moment, Meliodas swore he never would.

“In hell,” her mother said, “there is a special circle, reserved for people like you.”

Elizabeth never liked those procedures. It was hot, and she could barely stay on her feet from sleepiness. The sun stood at its highest point, there weren’t any clouds in sight, and, she thought, it was a far too beautiful day for this. She had watched those situations three times already, this was the fourth. 

Two people, kneeling on the ground, bruised and beaten up because they didn’t have the luxury of mercy. And her mother, standing a few steps above, looking down at them. All of them. The face of the queen was hard, like she wasn’t affected by this at all. As if she felt nothing but disgust and apathy. Elizabeth whished she had the same level of nonchalance her mother had. Like she was expected to. 

“For treason and throwing dirt on the name of the goddess race, you will die.”

Blood splattered. The head of the goddess and the vampire lay before her feat, and she could feel a little bit of bile rising up her throat. She should be used to this. As a princess, this shouldn’t affect her at all. 

“It’s alright princess.”, Jelamet said, putting a hand on her shoulder, “all of it will get easier when you’re older. They weren’t worth any of your thoughts, anyway. You know the rules.”

How couldn’t she? Because in the goddess realm, in her realm, there was but one rule.

Don’t fall in love. 

Elizabeth had sworn, a long time ago, that she never would.

“Why-” Meliodas had asked that question long ago. He had almost forgotten about it (as if he ever could). It’s a cursed question, one he had learned never to ask again. Asking was a forbidden privilege. “-are the demon and the goddess race in conflict?”
Chandler had raised his brow, and frowned.

Something Chandler never did. Meliodas instantly knew he said the wrong thing. 

“Goddesses are wretched things. They deserve to be exterminated, after every unjust thing they’ve done to us.”

“But what did they do?”

“They’ve killed thousands of us. Of our comrades, our subjects, and our friends. All this bloodshed needs to be avenged.”

“And we kill hundreds of them, I don’t see-”

“The light of the goddesses and the darkness of the demons isn’t compatible. Our races just don’t match.”

“But-”

“Meliodas?”

The prince immediately shut up. He had never seen Chandler glaring, and it sure wasn’t a beautiful thing to see.

“We don’t match. There’s no use in asking such stupid things. That’s all you need to know.”
Meliodas wanted to ask so much more.
He didn’t ask again.

“Do you know why you’re here?”

Elizabeth thought Ludociels’ voice sounded far too nice. It sounded like honey. It sounded so fake, it almost made her feel sick. Why was she here again? Oh yeah, her mothers’ orders. She stood next to the leader of the archangels.

“Watch and learn.” He had said before. 
The prisoner had dark marks on his face. His eyes were as black as coal and she could feel the cold radiating of off him.

Him, she would remember, as the first demon she’s ever seen. 

“I am here, because you found it appropriate to bring me here even though I was in my borders.”

A guard slapped the man straight across the face. Elizabeth jumped a slight bit, but, to her amazement, the guy didn’t bat an eye. 

“You are here, demon, because you were on our grounds.” The archangel pressed on. “Do you have any idea what will happen to you now?”
The man smiled. And then he looked at her. 

“You are the princess, right?”

“don’t answer him, Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth nodded either way, too nervous to speak.
“Did you have any idea that humans determine their worth because of their skin color?”

“What?” Both Ludociel and the girl spoken to asked in sync. 

“The human race, in their own rows, of course, determine their worth by their skin color. People with white skin are said to be worth more than those with black skin. People with a darker skin tone are usually sold as slaves, as they are the minority.”

“How does that make sense? A humans a human, isn’t it.”

“Correct. A human is a human, they all have the same soul, they all bleed red, they all live on the same land, they all breath the same air. So pray tell me, princess, how it is fair to all the dark skinned people out there, that they are mistreated for things they can’t control.”

“Uhm- I, I don’t-”

“There’s no sense in it, obviously.” Ludociel interrupted her mumbling. “A humans a human. They’re doing it because they’re stupid. But, tell me, what does this have to do with this situation?”

“How is it any different from what you’re doing?”

“What?”

“How- and princess, you are free to join this conversation- is it fair of you to say that all demons are bad, if we don’t have any say in what race we’re born into? How do you know you’re superior?”

“Because we are.”

“That’s not a reason.”

“This is enough.” Ludociels tone had all the finality that was needed to shut the prisoner up. “Take him away.”

The guards did as told, and Elizabeth never saw the man again. The door was shut, and with a heavy bang, the room was flooded in silence. Only her and Ludociel were still inside. 

“Demons are vile beings, princess.” The man said, “don’t ever let their nonsense get to your head. We are goddesses, power runs in our blood. We are above them, it’s nature. The light of the goddess race and the darkness of the demon race will never be compatible. We don’t match. Don’t let any other nonsense get into your head.”

Elizabeth didn’t speak for some time after that.

The first time Meliodas had been at the front, was the time he finally understood. The word ark would haunt him for some time, after all. 

Goddesses, in all their mind-manipulating, selfish, stuck up glory, really were a pest.

Chandler had been right, there weren’t any questions needed. Getting rid of them would be a pleasure.

When it had been Elizabeths first time at the front, she finally understood. The word Hellflame, for a long time, had the bile rising in her throat. 

Demons, in all their soul-sucking, blood-thirsty, graceless glory, really were monsters. 

Her mother had been right, no questions had been needed. Getting rid of them would be a pleasure. 

If you had ever been to the demon realm, you would know what it looked like. In Britannia, there were countless stories of what the devils land looked like. They spoke off endless skies of black and never-ending darkness, or of endless wastelands where monsters were roaming freely.

Granted, that last one wasn’t exactly wrong, but not really correct either. In fact, there were wastelands where the Induras had found they’re home, but then there were places like Troma, the demons capitol. 

And while it was lively sometimes, when holidays like Artami came knocking on the door, Meliodas would still call it ten minutes from the aura of death and 3 degress from hopeless. At day, you could be in the 5th floor and hear if a needle dropped in the 3rd one. At night, that changed like a light switch. Soldiers would usually spend the night drinking and chatting with each other. And while that sounded like fun, with demons, there’s always something dangerous involved. 

In the middle of Mitras, in all it’s terrifying height, stood the castle of the royal family. And, deep in the soulless halls of it, was the inhabitants called the crime room. It was a big, round chamber, where the criminals sat in the middle and everyone around him could properly look down on him, like a prisoner deserved. Someone seemingly had called it that as a joke, but it’s become the rooms practical name now. 
The crime room was used for the exact occasion they were in now:

“The demon and the goddess race have never been at peace.”

The king had begun his speech, and Meliodas knew that whenever his father began his speeches, they would spend years on this. 

He was already bored out of his mind. This was the day he could proof himself, and his father was talking? Why?

“And in times like this, it is even more important that we stand as one. People like you, who disturb the balance of the races and have willingly become traitors to our race-”

The kings eyes wandered from the goddess to the demon. Hard and merciless, they spoke of nothing but disgust.

“- deserve to die.”

Meliodas picked the axe up. An axe, not the sharpened sword. Traitors didn’t deserve a painless death. 

The goddess and the demon knelt before him. The goddess had their eyes on the ground, unwavering, while the demon looked up to the prince. Her eyes were pleading, and she opened her mouth to whisper:

“Please…”

She looked like she wanted to cry, and the goddess looked like he had already given up and put on a brave face. His shaking shoulders betrayed him. 

Vermin.

Meliodas swung the axe down. The girls head lay on the floor, and blood splattered all around her. Also on her lovers face. The goddess had his eyes closed.

Disgusting. 

Well, one done, one more to go.

The demon prince couldn’t exactly pinpoint what he was feeling. He couldn’t bring himself for feeling sorry for those things. It was a pleasure to get rid of them. 

He felt happy.

His father looked at him, proud. Meliodas, looking back on it, will remember it as the day he became known as the white reaper. 

The goddess realm had many legends surrounding it. Some more ridiculous than the other, but they all had one thing in common. It was a land so beautiful, humans wouldn’t ever be able to grasp it. 

Which wasn't inherently wrong, Elizabeth thought. It was a land with rivers that shimmered like diamonds and landscapes that looked like an artists dream. What was different, were the goddesses themselves. People imagined the castle of the royal family to host balls, always have music playing, birds singing, painters trying to bring the beauty on paper, and so on. The only rumor that came remotedly near the truth was: It was always a hustle. Everything and everyone had a plan what to do, where to be and, most importantly, how to be. Her mother didn't like people slacking around in her castle. At all.

A few nearby goddesses bowed as Elizabeth came their way. They all wore white training suits, and probably spend their break here. The princess, opposed to them, wore a battle armour. Coming back from the front this morning, she didn't have time to change into more comfortable clothes yet. 

They were getting closer to getting the other races to join, bit by bit. Even if she and her race didn't like to admit it, they needed every help they could get to exterminate the demons. And when they reached that goal, goddesses would  rule like they deserved and peace would arrive. Finally. 

It'd been a hard week. She was at the front the entire time, and the constant, unchallenging days were getting annoying. Of course, Elizabeth didn't notice it yet, but her fight against the two commandments Aranak and Grayroad hadn't gone unnoticed. Rumors about the supposedly sheltered princess were  spreading around like wildfire. 

This, even if Elizabeth didn't know that yet, would be  the day she gained the nickname Bloody Elli.

Chapter Text

On her 107th birthday, Elizabeth meets Meliodas. As far as gifts go, she thinks the universe could have done a better job.

Meeting, is a strange word for it. She’s heard so much about him she thinks she’s already met him. She saw him on the battlefield once. She even managed to hit him with an ark. It’s strange to think that the demon prince, who does barely have a name in her mind, a name never mentioned, exists outside of blood-soaked earth. He doesn’t. He’s a person thing(?) told to little children to scare them to sleep. The demon prince has no soul. Meliodas is a name given to an evil thing, which does not have a soul. Meliodas the person does not exist.

When Elizabeth wakes up on her 107th birthday, she is not greeted by her mother, or her servants, or the friends she is supposed to have but doesn’t, because she’s a princess and the only person who talks to her without kissing bloody Ellis feet is Jelamet. Instead, she is greeted by the demon prince standing over her. A grin etched unto his demonic face, far to big to look natural. There was a blood red sky, the sun hadn’t risen yet and she does the first thing she thinks to do; she fires an ark. Which would have worked far better is she wasn’t bleeding out on the earth, alone, without her comrades and oh god why couldn’t she heal herself. She, however, is the goddess princess. Blood does not keep her from protecting herself. The ark is almost unintentional, magic building up in the core of her soul and releasing itself in an instant.

The ark, however, never hits him. Because he is the demon prince and a demon prince is not killed by a goddess, half dead, lying abandoned on the battleground he just conquered. The grin does not leave his face.

“That’s not very polite, your highness.”

Sometimes, she thinks that if she met him in another way, things might have turned out differently. Falling in love and being careful are two intertwined but never quite compatible things, and she has lost the thread of being and wanting somewhere in their shared thoughts of greatness. They, however, have not. So, when she snaps awake from her death like sleep, which would have turned to death had the presence of the prince not woken her, she could not move, but she did not fear him. She did not fear mortal things, because she was the daughter of an immortal herself. She did not fear things with names.

“-Are you”

“-Am I,” he mocks. His gaze is fixed on her, like she’s the most interesting thing she’s ever laid eyes upon. “Close enough. I’m Meliodas. But you know that already.”

“What are you doing?” Elizabeth asks, and he does not answer for a while, just tilts his head to the side, like a child.

“Are you afraid?”

“No.” Elizabeth answers. Like she should. Like her mother told her she should. It is not a lie.

“Good,” is all the demon says, “that is why I am here.”

Because I do not fear death? Fear you?

“I am afraid I can’t kill you yet. But I can give you something else in exchange.” The sky is blood red. The demon prince is wearing his signature white cloak. She tries not to concentrate on the dead bodies next to her.

“Why in all circles of hell would I accept that? I’d rather die than make a deal with a demon.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not planning on stealing your soul and dragging it into the demon realm after you die. It isn’t like you are planning on dying, anyway. It will be worth your while, I promise.”

When Elizabeth is back in the goddess realm, her dress is white, without blemish, and her mother regards her almost-death-experience as payment for the land they lost to the demons.

The moment the princess meets the demon the second time, the sky is clear, he is wearing human clothes, and there are no dead bodies nearby.

“I will protect your soul and being as long as you help me accomplish my goal and give me a place by your side.” “I don’t need a protector. Or an observer. Especially not a demon.” Meliodas grin does not falter. 

"A human-like body is made of about 5 to 7 litres of blood. The moment the aorta is struck, losing about 1 litre of blood from your arteries is deadly, losing about 3 litres of blood from your veins is close to lethal. You’re lucky it didn’t strike your arteries,; you’d be long dead. I’d guess that’s about 2 litres of blood from your veins. And for the you don’t need a protector part: You might not, but you sure as hell need a healer, and I sure don’t see a goddess that’s alive anywhere in close proximity. Do you want my help?”

When Elizabeth meets Meliodas a second time, the sky is clear, he is wearing human clothes, and there are no dead bodies nearby.

They are sitting in heaven’s theatre, and Elizabeth is unsure what keeps her here. The silence isn’t tense, exactly, but it’s nowhere near pleasant either. How would it be? She’s supposed to kill him. He`s supposed to kill her. That’s not the best precondition for small talk.

“What do you want, demon?”

“I have a name, Elizabeth.” A raised eyebrow. Laying on the warm stones, arms behind his head.

“What do you want?” Gritted teeth, a forcefully relaxed body. Silver hair flying in every direction thanks to the wind.

“My crown.”

The Goddess stills. What did he just say?

“I am the heir. I can’t beat my father, not yet. And before I can even get close to his level, he will kill me. Zeldris is the spare, he’ll step up, there won’t be any kind of issue, not that anyone would make a fuss,” he says, relaxed and monotone, ”but the demon realm will fall. No matter if we win the war or not. And he does not care. I do, and when I’m done, we’ll be out of your hair.”

“Why would I help you? Why would I trust you to keep your word? You could ascend to being king and continue the war. You could ascend to being king and kill me when you’re done.”

“What do you have to lose? You trade a war for a war, or trade a war for peace.”

“Who says I want peace?” She spits, angry. “Demons are vermin, and for all you did, every one of you, you should die.”

Meliodas looks at her for a very long time. “

You are what I expected,” he says, monotone, again. He gets up, stretches himself, and leaves.

Elizabeth stays for a bit longer, and watches as the sun goes down. She wonders why that comment bothered her so much.

She does come back, however. So does he.

And they keep talking for a while and a little while longer. And Meliodas tells her about his little brother and Elizabeth finds herself telling him how the sun never sets in the Goddess realm, and that the poets can’t seem to grasp how utterly utopian it is. He tells her the poets have done their job a bit too well. And she finds that, perhaps, she could stand him, even if they were wasting time.

And then the days get shorter and it’s colder. Until they get off heavens theatre on day and they see spring flowers. The days keep changing and so do the seasons. The bodies on both sides keep piling up. Elizabeth doesn’t really notice. Sometimes she wonders when she stopped caring.

“What do you want to do, once you’re king?”

“Once, she says. When did I convince you?”

“Around the time where you didn’t stab me when I fell asleep next to you.”

Meliodas doesn’t smile very often nowadays. He really doesn’t. But she thinks he’s got a pretty smile, even if it doesn’t last long.

“Peace.”

In the demon realm, they don’t tell their children bedtime stories. Myths and fairytales are occupation for poets, and being anything less than a soldier in the demon realm meant you were dead, or soon to be. There were few exceptions, and one of them was the story of the ten commandments.

Once upon a time, in retaliation to the Goddess clan, the Demon King split his powers in half, which he then again divided into 10. He gave these parts of his power to his ten strongest soldiers, hand in hand with their own personal curse. Meliodas couldn’t feel hate, Galand couldn’t lie, and the list went on. The tale doesn’t stop there.

It says that the one to combine those 10 powers in himself could overpower the demon king and take up the mantle. Only that you had to be worthy of this power first, unless you wanted to die.

Meliodas did not plan on dying. He planned on getting his throne.

The demon prince had seen many people die. Goddesses, Fairies, Humans, Giants, demons, and in the end, he knew they would lose the war, especially if his father didn’t involve himself in the efforts he asked for. His father was a powerful king, but he was no ruler. Meliodas had sworn he would be.

But he would need help.

The attack on Eldavin, a small Goddess providence a short distance from the front. Swift and bloody, with far more casualties than Meliodas had planned on but, oh well, it was war, nothing to be done about it. And considering he now had the goddamned Bloody Eli at his feet, he could not care less. She was close to death, she’d need a healer, soon, or his plan would fail. Not that his plan had any guarantee of succeeding if the girl decided that losing her life for nothing was the better option than shaking hands with a demon (reasonable, really).

He was so deep in thought he nearly didn’t see the ark coming. It was too weak to even touch him.

“That’s not very polite, your highness.”

“Are you…?” she was coughing up blood at this point, damn. He’d need to get to Gowther quickly.

“Am I.” he mockes. ”Close enough. I am Meliodas, but you know that already.”

“Are you afraid of me?”

“Help her,” Meliodas snaped, agitated, on Gowthers doorstep. Gowther never needed any explanations. He always knew everything.

A few weeks later, Elizabeth and him are sitting in heavens theatre, and he tells her about the demon realm and she tells him about the Goddess realm and in those moments, he can almost forget why he’s here.

Almost.

"Once, she says. When did I convince you?"

"Around the time where you didn’t stab me when I fell asleep next to you.”

Finally.