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Meliodas paced back and forth while his body screamed in protest. He was still unused to the heavy strain of training full-time, feeling like collapsing at the end of every night. Though today had been cut short with Chandler telling him – no, ordering him – to stay put in his room. Truthfully, Meliodas wouldn’t have had a problem with it under any other circumstances. All he really wanted to do was fall face-first onto the bed and sleep for a couple decades.
But there was a gomicl dragon loose in the capital. It was attacking the fucking palace. And Meliodas was well aware of his father’s priorities.
Meliodas stopped moving, glaring at the door. There was no way he was just staying here. His baby brother was still so little – too little. Meliodas had to make sure someone was keeping him safe. Which meant obeying orders wasn’t an option.
It was easier than it normally would have been to leave his room and sneak through the palace hallways. Most times if Meliodas had been confined to his room, nobody would stand guard per se, but someone would notice if he left. Now though everyone was too focused on the gomicl attack. Nobody would bother about one small prince in the midst of disaster. Well, Chandler would, but he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. That meant Meliodas could easily make his way to the nursery without anyone stopping him.
He knew the way there by heart already. He had spent so much free time just watching Zeldris sleep or talk to him or just be with him without anyone watching or judging his every move. His footsteps echoed as he ran, hearts beating fast. He had no armor – because he didn’t need it yet – and no weapons – because he hadn’t earned them yet – and this was probably the most reckless and stupid thing he could be doing right now – but he didn’t care. Zeldris was still pure, the only good thing left in this place. Meliodas would be damned if he let their father ruin him before he could even walk.
Meliodas stopped outside the door, trying to catch his breath. The room was intact, but deserted. A ruckus of screams and fighting was heard nearby. Meliodas closed his eyes, focusing on the sounds. Identify the sound. Isolate it and omit all others. Focus... There! Two hallways down and one to the left. Damn. The gomicl was close.
Not wasting any time, Meliodas rushed through the door and up to the crib. Zeldris was crying. His small limbs kicking and flailing in all directions. Darkness covered his eyes. He couldn’t really do anything with it yet, but the defensive instinct was still there. His body screaming for protection. The thought ached in all of Meliodas’ hearts. Yet he couldn’t help but sigh in relief as he saw his brother unharmed. He was upset, scared and safe.
“It’s okay, Zel,” Meliodas mumbled. He reached down and stroked his fingers across Zeldris’ cheek. It was wet with tears. “It’s okay, I’m here.”
Zeldris grabbed hold of his finger. His grip tighter than what seemed possible from such a tiny being. He hiccupped loudly but the screaming stopped as he stared up at Meliodas with wide eyes.
“I…” Meliodas trailed off, rubbing at Zeldris’ little hand. He didn’t know what to say as he watched the darkness bleed away from Zeldris’ eyes. Just Meliodas presence seemingly settling some of his distress. Green eyes watched him; green eyes full of trust Meliodas didn’t know what to do with.
Suddenly there was a loud roar. Zeldris cried out in fear when the whole building seemed to shake. Meliodas froze, listening. The gomicl was moving; it was coming. Fast!
Meliodas barely had time to pull Zeldris up into his arms – stumbling slightly under the weight – and throw himself backwards when the window exploded. Meliodas scrambled backwards until his back hit the wall as the gomicl pressed itself into the room, breaking the wall in the process. Meliodas watched as the gomicl approach the crib, sniffing around it. His hearts beat frantically in his ears. He glanced around the room as he pulled Zeldris closer to him. There was nowhere to hide.
“It-it’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here, I’m-I’m here,” Meliodas stammered, trying to calm Zeldris down. It was no use. He was terrified, and with good reason. Meliodas felt tears burn his own eyes as the gomicl turned around. It was staring right at them now. Even if the dragon had poor eyesight, there was no way it wouldn’t find them now. It could hear them; it could smell them. There was just them and it in the room. There had to be guards close by, right? Someone had been fighting the dragon just moments earlier. They would come. They wouldn’t let the Demon King’s sons die. They couldn’t. Unless the gomicl had already killed them all.
Meliodas closed his eyes, pressing his face against Zeldris’ tuft of black hair, praying.
“I’m here,” he promised one last time. “Big brother is going to protect you.”
He could hear the gomicl approach them. Its long sharp claws rasping across the floor as it walked. He could feel the temperature shift as its warm breath reached them. It ghosted over his skin with a promise of death. A low, growing growl rose from the dragon as it prepared for an attack.
Meliodas didn’t think, he threw himself on the floor. Zeldris was caged beneath his body, surrounded by his limbs on each side. Meliodas formed his wings and wrapped them around them as well, channeling whatever darkness he could in his frightened state. And he prayed and begged and hoped. Please, please, please, let it be enough.
Meliodas blacked out with blood running down his back and his brother held close to his chest.
As he woke, the gomicl dragon was gone. So was the nursery and Zeldris too. Meliodas’ arms felt empty and cold as he lied flat on his stomach on a soft cot. He blinked his eyes open blearily, shifting slightly as he tried to make his eyes focus. He had to find Zeldris.
“It’s so good to see you awake, Prince Meliodas,” a voice said as hands helped his sit up. They stayed on his shoulder as he swayed slightly, seemingly uncertain if they should push him back down.
The clear presence of another immediately shot through Meliodas like a poison. His body tensed, his posture straight, and he glared at the demon in question with a suddenly sharp gaze. Never let them see you waver.
Oh. It was a healer, his mind caught up with the situation. He was in the infirmary being treated. After apparently not being killed by the gomicl. Maybe it hadn’t killed all the guards after all.
“Your back is still badly injured,” the healer told him – as if he couldn’t feel it set on fire with his every breath. “You’re lucky the guards managed to kill the gomicl when they did.”
As opposed to unlucky and dead, he was lucky and stuck in Hell with wounds that just felt like death. It seemed a bit odd though. Sure, their healers were no goddesses, but they knew what they were doing. Wounds of this degree of damage were a rarity. Especially for Meliodas. Not that he usually got this injured, but as the Demon King’s firstborn his health – and thereby fighting capabilities – was a priority. Unlike an infant’s safety, evidentially.
An infant’s safety.
“Zel?” Meliodas tried to ask, suddenly forgetting all about his own injuries. What had happened to Zeldris? Where was his brother? Meliodas cleared his throat painfully when his voice wouldn’t cooperate. Had he been screaming? He couldn’t remember, but his throat felt raw.
“Zeldris?” Meliodas asked again. This time, although it sounded like he had glass shoved down his throat, the word at least was intelligible. The healer tilted their head for a moment, regarding him.
“Your brother is unharmed,” they said. “He’s with his nursemaids and Sir Cusack, getting settled into his new room.”
So his brother was with the people who had abandoned him in the first place. At least Cusack was there too. The demon seemed to be the only one other than Meliodas who genuinely cared for Zeldris well-being. Well, as much Chandler would care for Meliodas’: absolutely but with certain conditions. It seemed no matter how much his master cared for him, Meliodas knew the loyalty to his father would always be greater.
Also, how long had Meliodas been out? Zeldris was already getting a new room? Was that because it was deemed a priority or because it had just been that long since the attack? Meliodas itched to find his brother, to see with his own eyes that he was safe.
“Can I leave?”
The healer hesitated. They looked conflicted as they shifted from foot to foot for a moment. Then they sighed subtly and nodded their head.
“Of course, my lord,” they said, helping Meliodas stand up from the cot. “Sir Chandler wanted me to tell you that you are to rest in your room, there will be no training today.”
Meliodas was secretly relieved. Getting to his room would be hard enough. There was no way he would ever be able to train today, especially with Chandler’s standards. But that also meant he wouldn’t be able to see Zeldris today either. Even if he could make it to his new room, he doubted he could get away with disobeying two orders in one… however long it had been.
“That’s gonna scar,” the healer added before he could leave.
Yeah, Meliodas had figured that one out by now too. The healers did know what they were doing. If his injuries were still this bad, it was only because his father wanted them to be.
“Rub some of this on your back every morning and night,” the healer continued, handing Meliodas a small bottle. “It’ll help keep the wounds clean. They should heal up nicely in a week or so.”
The wounds, not the scars. Meliodas would always carry the scars from a gomicl dragon on his back. To his father they’d be a reminder of his foolish actions, of what happened when you rushed in without thinking. To Meliodas they were a promise that he would always protect his baby brother.
