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Zeldris humphed, his arms crossed. “We’d get there faster if we flew,” he grunted.
“Oh, come now,” Gelda said with a smile, waving a nonchalant hand at him. “Sometimes it’s nice to travel slowly. We can enjoy the scenery this way.”
She leaned back and turned her head, red eyes gazing at the gorgeous countryside. She held her hair, as she felt the breeze dance over her face. She breathed in the fresh air.
Zeldris raised his head to take a peek at the scenery. He supposed it looked nice. He shifted his gaze to Gelda sitting across from him in the wagon. She seemed to really be enjoying this.
She looked beautiful.
He uncrossed his arms. “I guess travelling by caravan isn’t the worst,” he admitted.
Gelda gave him that smile she always gave him when she got what she wanted. “I knew you’d see it my way sooner or later,” she proclaimed.
Zeldris made a face at her. She just laughed.
“I also figured,” she went on then, “it’d be good for you to have some time to process this.”
Zeldris stiffened. “Process what?” He knew exactly what she meant.
Gelda was staring at him, but Zeldris couldn’t quite meet her gaze anymore.
“That you’re an uncle,” she said.
“…What’s there to process about that?” asked Zeldris, “It is what it is.”
Gelda leaned forward to catch his gaze. “I know you better than anyone else. I can tell you’re nervous,” she told him, “about what sort of impact a child, born of a demon and a goddess, might have on the world.”
Zeldris frowned. He couldn’t keep anything secret from Gelda.
“There’s never been such a child like that before,” he grunted.
Gelda slipped her hand in his, intertwining their fingers together and squeezing his gently. “Don’t be so negative,” she said, “If you really think about it, such a child is amazing. And we get to be his uncle and aunt.”
Zeldris debated that silently. He still felt wary, but he could try to believe Gelda’s words.
“I suppose it’s possible that may be true.”
Gelda smiled again. “I knew you’d see it my way sooner or later.”
“Gelda,” Zeldris said, exasperated.
She simply laughed.
_______________________________________________________________________
“Here,” said Meliodas, cheerfully handing his newborn son to his younger brother.
Zeldris didn’t even have time to voice his acceptance or refusal. Before he knew it, the baby was in his arms.
“Support his head,” Meliodas instructed, adjusting Zeldris’ grasp. He made sure his son’s head was cradled in the crook of Zeldris’ arm, and that his hands were holding him securely to his chest.
Zeldris blinked.
Meliodas grinned. “Isn’t he cute?”
Zeldris gazed down at his nephew. He looked so… squishy. And he felt so tiny, it was scary. Were babies really supposed to be this tiny? How the heck did they grow up?
He suddenly made a sound.
Zeldris tensed. “What’s he doing?”
Meliodas laughed. “Calm down. He’s just talking to you.”
Zeldris frowned. He made the strange, soft sound again.
“I don’t understand what he’s saying.”
Meliodas grinned. “I understand!”
Zeldris gave his brother a skeptical look. He had no idea how anyone could understand such an odd sound, but perhaps Meliodas being the father gave him the special power to communicate with his child.
“What did he say then?” he asked.
Meliodas looked down at his son, his grin softening and overwhelming fondness flooding his green eyes. He gently stroked his thumb over his son’s round, little cheek.
He returned his attention to his brother. “He said ‘I love you, Uncle Zel’!”
The breath in Zeldris’ lungs left him momentarily. He looked back down at his tiny nephew.
He smiled up at him.
A powerful warmth welled up inside Zeldris’ chest.
What had he been thinking before? Gelda was right. This child was amazing. This child, tiny and squishy, was utterly incredible.
“Well, he’s waiting, Zel!” Meliodas exclaimed.
Zeldris frowned at him in confusion. “What is he waiting for?”
Meliodas smirked mischievously. “For you to say it back to him.”
Zeldris’ frown deepened. What was he talking—oh. Oh.
Oh.
“I’m not saying it in front of you!”
“No? Well, would it help if I turned my back?” Meliodas turned around.
“…And plugged your ears,” Zeldris told him.
“Sure thing.” Meliodas plugged his ears with his fingers.
Even though he couldn’t see his face, Zeldris knew he was grinning.
Zeldris turned his attention back to his nephew, feeling that warmth in his chest from before come back, seemingly even stronger this time.
He looked into his nephew’s blue and green eyes. “Your Uncle Zel loves you too,” he murmured.
Meliodas started snickering.
“You jerk! I told you to plug your ears!”
“You’re so cute sometimes, Zel!”
“Shut up!”
_______________________________________________________________________
When they left, they decided to fly home. Elizabeth had given Tristan to Gelda to hold as well, and she’d had this expression on her face Zeldris had never seen before ever since.
“Hey, Zel,” she suddenly said, her tone soft.
Zeldris hummed.
She took a moment to continue.
“A child, born of a demon and a vampire, would be amazing too, right?”
Zeldris fell a foot or two in the air before he caught himself. He regained control of his wings, flying back up beside Gelda. He cleared his throat, trying very hard to push down the rising heat in his cheeks.
“I suppose that it’s possible,” he agreed, the heat flooding his face despite his attempts to stop it.
Gelda smiled. “I knew you’d see it my way.”