Hi. I intended this to be a Melizabeth story but it morphed into an exploration of family and friendship. Much of this is based on my experience of studying, though not at Oxford, so if you know the university you will likely find the descriptions of the interiors a little off. If you're familiar with British politics, you will recognise that this is set in the 2016/17 academic year starting in October and finishing in July.
Meliodas' father is called Lord Lorimer as I couldn't really have the demon king himself wandering about the Houses of Parliament in 21st century Britain. Indeed as he is a lowly human Lord Lorimer does not look like the demon king, though personality-wise I've tried to keep him broadly in character. In keeping with this, he is referred to as the prince of darkness, a sobriquet given to him by the press. There is a real politician who is sometimes called the prince of darkness, rather unkindly, in the British media. As you might expect, Lord Lorimer just has his nickname and does not bear any relationship to this man whatsoever.
Chapter 1: In My Place
It was early morning and Meliodas smiled as he felt the chill autumn wind whip round his face, the blonde locks which flicked past his eyes in the breeze partially obscuring his vision. He set a brisk pace, taking in the sparking gleam of the canal and the shimmering reflection of the wispy branches of yellow-leafed willow on its surface. He crossed over the bridge and made his way up towards the Ashmolean, turning into St John's Street before he reached the elegant columns of the famous museum. The air was crisp and bracing and Meliodas took eager breaths of it, feeling his body relax as the fire of the cold flew all through to his lungs.
This was nice. A new term, a new start he thought as he made his way quickly past the pale stone of the houses which lined either side of the road as they shone in the soft dawn light. He was finally back in Oxford. No more fieldwork, no more travelling, no more living out of a rucksack while crashing on his brother's uncomfortable sofa or staying in the cheapest hotels on the market. He shuddered as he recalled the last hell hole he'd had the misfortune to base himself in while he carried out interviews at the nearby tax office. The room he'd chosen as the only one whose price fit his budget was above a pub, which was fine, but which also boasted a karaoke machine. The stress of trying to work and sleep there while some persistent girl screeched until the small hours of the morning had made his body protest and his head ache.
And, of course, no more Deldry. Meliodas had made up his mind while he was away that he had to end it with her. The spark had long gone, they were so like brother and sister at this point that the sex felt disgusting, though it had taken him far too long to notice his insistent need to shower after the deed was done and really understand the implications of his response. He was sickened with their tedious conversations by rote which never tested new territory and the way she purposely flirted with any adult male who crossed her path in a failed bid to make him jealous.
He'd thought seriously about leaving her a number of times over the years, even getting as close as telling his brother he was going to break it off. He remembered he had been slightly taken aback by Estarossa's delighted encouragement, and felt his resolve grow as he realised how little his brother thought of her. But every time he'd got close to saying the words that would end it, he'd found himself pulling back as if he was under some kind of spell. The power of sentiment he supposed, and of not wanting to live alone. It was solitary enough as a PhD student without having to face an empty bed every night.
But he'd finally done it, realising his time on his own in hotels, although miserable, was better than living at home with his girlfriend. Deldry had taken it hard. There had been tears, recriminations, the promise to change and finally the threat of suicide, which had made his stomach turn and effectively killed any lingering sense of attachment he might have felt for her. Meliodas knew in that moment that her efforts were to save the lifestyle she was losing and not for him. Even now, he still felt his stomach clench in disgust, mortified that he relied on his father so much for everything, even the love he thought he had earned.
He'd let her stay in the apartment, taking himself off to London and the distraction of Estarossa and his weird friends while Deldry found herself another place to live. When he had come back a month later the apartment had felt different. She had pushed the keys through the letter box and the sight of them on the mat as he opened the door had brought Meliodas a surge of relief and excitement. But if he was honest the silence echoing round the hall in that moment also made him regret his decision. He had never really lived alone having spent his time before Deldry in boarding school and then the student accommodation in Jesus College. Now that he was faced with the prospect, he was not sure he liked it.
The furniture was all there, as were most of the books piled on the shelves next to the staircase, but there were other bits missing. The antique clock they had bought together in the covered market and the delicate pink orchid that was a gift from her parents were both gone. Their absence was expected, it was fair enough for Deldry to take them, but it made the apartment look disconcertingly different.
Meliodas had regretted brushing off Estarossa's suggestion that he join him in Oxford for a bit. His brother had taken four weeks off work to make sure Meliodas had no time to think or regret, and of course Estarossa knew all of the best places to go. His brother had, to his father's great irritation, not followed his elder to Oxford or even to Cambridge which would have been a passable second. He had graduated from the London School of Economics and then quickly found a highly lucrative job in investment banking. He worked hard and played hard, pulling twelve hour days before exploring the debauchery of the city at night, learning the ins and outs of the capital like the back of his hand. He had made sure Meliodas had no time to think or regret. But now term had started and Meliodas told himself firmly that he was ready to return to his neglected thesis and the simple pleasure of a quiet night's sleep. But as he'd made his way through the apartment checking everything was where it should be, he'd wished Estarossa was with him. Truth be told he was not ready for this.
Meliodas made his way out of St John Street and into the quiet of Wellington Square, pulling the collar of his black wooden coat up to ward off the cold as the central garden and its bundle of red-leaved trees rose into view. As the department building came in sight, he acknowledged his need for some human contact and hoped at least some of the others were working in the office that morning. Diane was collecting data in Indonesia and it was an established fact that King hardly ever showed up for work, but Gowther might be there. Last he'd heard Gowther had scored a paid internship with a massive pharmaceutical company, but that was supposed to have finished. Meliodas sighed, they were sure to have paid him very well for his research and it must be tempting not to come back.
Meliodas went through the doors of the department building and made his way up the stairs. With fingers that trembled slightly in anticipation, he punched the never changing key code into the door before pulling it open to finally say something to someone, his face alight with a welcoming grin.
But there was no-one there. He had the office to himself.
"What gives?" Meliodas asked the empty room, before shrugging and making his way to the fastest computer. Being first in had its advantages. He could use this processor to re-run his model, building in the new specification his qualitative interviews had suggested would improve the results. It was a complex change and he'd need all the power he could get.
The build took a little time as Meliodas worked carefully to check the specification was right. Once ready, this model would show which taxpayers were likely to be hiding their incomes and were thus a good bet for an audit. It would help the state collect billions of pounds in unpaid taxes, and was well worth all the hassle to get right, even though the work was simultaneously stressful and boring.
Before he knew it, several hours had passed and as Meliodas looked up at the clock he decided he had genuinely earned a short break. Stretching out his arms to place them round the back of his head he walked out of the office and round the hall to the common room. Diane had left loads of coffee behind and he was going to steal some.
When he punched in the code and opened the door he was surprised to find someone asleep on the sofa. The man lying there was enormous, impossibly tall, barely fitting on the tattered three seater. Even in the cold, the man wore nothing but a tight t-shirt showing off powerful muscles and scuffed cord trousers that barely came up to his waist, exposing his toned lower stomach. His head was wedged carefully into the corner of the cushions for support, the position giving his spikey white hair a mussed-up appearance. As he snored gently, Meliodas could see though his open mouth that he sported sharp fangs for canines. Even in sleep, this man looked pretty fierce.
Eyebrows raised, Meliodas made his way to the kitchen area, wrinkling his nose in disgust as he took in the mess it had turned into in the few short months he'd been away. He knew he was the only one who ever cleaned it, but he was still cross that the pristine pale blue laminate worktop he had left behind had descended into an absolute health hazard. As the kettle boiled, he scrubbed the surface and cleaned the sink, annoyed that he was forced to use washing up liquid because of the lack of bleach. Once the coffee was ready, he took one mug over to the sleeping man and gently shook him awake.
"It's a bit early for a nap isn't it?" Meliodas asked, a bright smile on his face as he shoved a mug under the man's nose. "Here, I figured you'd want this. There's no milk I'm afraid. Well, there is but you don't want to drink it."
"Thanks," groaned the man in return before sitting up and taking a sip of the steaming hot liquid, exposing a nasty gash of red scar tissue which ran down his jaw to his left shoulder. Whatever had caused that must have hurt. Meliodas waited patiently for more, but nothing came.
"So, are you going to tell me who you are and what you're doing here?" Meliodas asked, the bright smile still in place.
"Huh, sure I guess. I'm Ban. Just started today," the man sighed, his eyes flashing momentarily as he looked up.
"You're on the PhD programme?" Meliodas asked, his green eyes widening in surprise. The man in front of him looked like anything but an academic. Meliodas checked himself, making these lazy judgements was part of what made his family one of the most reviled in Britain and he needed to stop himself falling into this trap.
"What's your research going to be on?"
"I dunno really, whatever I feel like when it comes to it," Ban replied lazily, his voice coming in a sing-song lilt. Meliodas took the hint. No-one got on the programme without a proposal, Ban obviously just didn't want to talk about it.
"So, why are you sleeping here?" Meliodas asked. "Late night?"
"Rough night," came the response. Again Meliodas waited and again nothing further.
"Fair enough. I'm Meliodas and this is my third year. Let me show you where the office is. It's just us today by the looks of things. This coffee is Diane's and she's in Indonesia so she's not going to miss it. Help yourself." Meliodas stood, waiting for Ban to join him. The long man stretched out his legs and Meliodas appreciated for the first time just how tall he was. Ban towered over him when he drew himself up.
They made their way to the office in silence. Ban chose a computer in the corner, as far away from Meliodas as possible. That was a bit hurtful, but Meliodas was used to it, although usually this happened after people found out about his background not on first acquaintance. He worked really hard to come across as playful and friendly to delay seeing the revulsion in people's eyes when they realised who his father was.
They worked in silence. Meliodas was pleased with the way the model had come out. The results were much easier to interpret and the diagnostic tests suggested the fit was acceptable. He grinned, realising with delight that, for once, he could leave the office having achieved something tangible. Better stop now before he noticed something wrong and had to stay here all night fixing it.
As he started to pack up, pulling his coat over his jumper he caught sight of Ban hauling a large box into the room. This was not unusual, most of his peers stored their notes in this office, but Ban did not take out books or papers but rather a sleeping bag which looked like it had seen better days. This was not standard behaviour.
"What'cha doing?" Meliodas asked, as always working hard to keep any sign of disapproval out of his tone.
"What does it look like? Getting ready for bed," Ban replied, not even looking up as he laid the sleeping bag out on the floor.
"Yes, but why are you going to sleep here?" Meliodas asked gently.
"If you must know I just split up with my girlfriend. She kicked me out last night," Ban snapped, his lilting tone entirely absent and Meliodas was shocked to see the absolute desolation on the man's face and the desperation in his crimson eyes.
"Come and sleep at mine then. They'll turn the heating off soon and it will be absolutely freezing in here. I made the mistake of working through the night once, and it was a miracle I didn't die of hypothermia. I've got a spare room and it's comfortable enough."
Ban looked at him, a wary expression on his face. "Why would you make that offer? You don't even know me."
"I've just split up with my girlfriend too. This will sound silly, but the place is a bit lonely and company would be nice," Meliodas said, deciding honesty and a complete absence of pity would work best in this situation.
A pause followed, the silence only interrupted by the steady ticking of the clock on the wall. Okay, thanks," Ban said, rolling his sleeping bag back up and shoving it into the worn box. The force of the motion caused the fraying cardboard seams to give way and all of Ban's possessions spilled out over the floor.
Meliodas gasped. He'd never seen anyone with so little. Even if Ban had just taken the essentials away following the fight with his girlfriend he should have more than this. All he owned were basically piles scribbled notes, this threadbare sleeping bag and a toothbrush and toothpaste.
Reaching into a drawer, Meliodas took out some plastic bags he kept there in case he wanted to buy groceries on the way home and, handing one to Ban, he started packing everything up.
"Come on!" he said when they'd completed the task and, smiling over his shoulder and shutting off the lights, Meliodas led Ban out of the door.
Meliodas half awoke to the sunlight insistently invading his room around the edges of the blackout curtains. He lay back groggily, waiting for his mind to catch up as he slowly reached for his phone to check the time. It was eleven am. Why was he so tired?
Then he remembered. He and Ban had stayed up talking about everything and nothing until the small hours of the morning. The hulk of a man had opened up on seeing Meliodas' apartment and had ribbed him non-stop about the extent of the luxury it afforded. Ordinarily, this sort of observation embarrassed Meliodas no end, but Ban had been so funny about it he'd found himself smiling then laughing along. They'd gone over the whole place like kids, Ban pointedly asking what he needed with four bedrooms anyway, adding that if he was running a brothel there was probably no need for Egyptian cotton sheets, the clients wouldn't care and would only mess them up.
Once they'd got talking they had found they couldn't stop and had even ended up arm wrestling at one point, knocking over a table and smashing a vase in the process. Ban had been rather surprised when Meliodas had given as good as he got in terms of physical strength, which had led to a discussion about push-ups and a bet as to who could do the most in ten minutes. The drinks cabinet had been opened and Meliodas shuddered slightly when he remembered they'd finished off his father's best bottle of vintage port. He'd pay for that when it was discovered.
Stretching, Meliodas stumbled out of bed, straightening the pillows and duvet before smoothing them over, debating whether or not to get changed before deciding that his boxers and t-shirt would be decent enough. He splashed his face and brushed his teeth in the ensuite bathroom before heading out into the corridor. The bedrooms were all on the ground floor, with the living area situated above and Meliodas could hear footsteps padding along through the ceiling, telling him that Ban must already be up. As he rounded the top of the spiral staircase, he was met with an abundance of light streaming through the huge wall of windows which covered the entirety of one side of the room and an amazing smell wafting over from the kitchen area in front. Ban was sideways to him busy over the hob and was humming along with the cracking sound of frying.
"Here you go", Ban said, turning towards Meliodas to place a couple of plates on the glass-topped bar. Removing his apron, Ban strode out of the kitchen and draped himself over one of the chrome bar stools, picking up a fork in the process.
"What's this for?" asked Meliodas. "Not that I'm complaining," he added, hopping up next to Ban. It felt like ages since he'd had something appetising to eat.
"I lost the bet," Ban said with a puckish grin and Meliodas was struck by the change this brought to his countenance. He looked like a mischievous imp. "You did more push ups than me, remember?" He looked Meliodas up and down as he said this. "You hide it well. You look like a weakling when you're not showing your arms, but you're packing it aren't you?"
"So I can win bets like this." Meliodas smiled back, taking a bite of the Spanish omelette. "This is amazing!"
They ate in silence for a few minutes before Ban interjected, "What's with your name anyway? Never heard anyone being called Meliodas before."
"Yeah, it's Arthurian, but not one of the characters you'll have heard of," Meliodas replied. "My father is a real one for picking names which make sure his children get bullied. I'm just glad it's not Lancelot," he added, chuckling along with Ban's laughter.
"My poor brothers both got it worse. They're Estarossa and Zeldris." Meliodas smiled up at Ban, before registering that his tall companion's face was suddenly tense, a flash of anger evident in his fiery eyes.
"You don't mean Zeldris as in Zeldris Lorimer?" Ban asked darkly.
"Yes. That's us." Meliodas sighed inwardly. Stupid of him to have said it. The family name always ruined everything. This friendship was over, though usually it was not linked to his youngest brother in any way. He was only eighteen.
"What's Zeldris done to upset you?" Meliodas enquired. "He's a bit of a prig but no more so than your average teenager."
"You didn't catch his speech at Tory Party Conference?" Ban spat out aggressively. "Some brother you are, or did you agree with him?" Ban's expression was practically murderous with this.
Meliodas paused. He'd forgotten about that and Ban was right, it had been remiss of him. He and Estarossa had turned on Sky News a few weeks ago to watch Zeldris take the podium at the Conservative Party's annual conference, a mixture of policy announcement and political posturing that both he and his middle brother found tedious. Zeldris had started well, his dark eyes flashing with authority, commanding attention, and he appeared to have an easy control of the room. It was not often that young people were invited to speak from the main podium, let alone given such a high billing. Their father had been a cabinet minister in his time and despite his chequered career was still admired by many in the party. Zeldris had also been in the newspapers over the summer and had managed to hold his own with the journalists, so perhaps the choice was not so surprising. Still, Meliodas had been taken aback that his brother seemed so at ease and confident with the nation's attention focused on him.
But before Zeldris had got much into his speech the cameras had panned to their father, his pale face a picture of greedy delight as he gazed lavishingly at their youngest brother from the front row. In silent agreement Meliodas and Estarossa had immediately switched off the TV and headed straight for the pub. Their father's expression had made them both feel sick and cold as they remembered all the times he looked at them in rage rather than adoration. They hadn't even followed up Zeldris' speech in the news coverage, just drinking and drinking until Lord Lorimer's ghastly look had faded from memory.
"No, I didn't see it. What did he say?" Meliodas asked softly.
"That spending money on child social care is dragging the UK into the gutter," Ban growled, his eyes showing livid anger.
"Really?" Meliodas asked surprised. What had been going on with his youngest sibling? That was extreme even for him.
"And that a flat tax is the only way forward, among other stuff, those bits were the worst," said Ban. He looked at Meliodas carefully. "I can't believe you're his brother. You don't come across as a despicable arsehole."
"He's completely obsessed with a flat tax," Meliodas moaned. "He thinks he's being really clever, as if he's the first one who's thought of it. But he doesn't know the first thing about the tax system. He'll grow out of it," he added, his voice sounding more confident than he felt. "I rather think he supports the idea just because he knows I hate it so much. He and I don't get on so well.
"Look, I know my family aren't exactly, you know..." he added weakly. He sighed. "My father and I don't see eye to eye anyway. He's been cross with me ever since I started my PhD. The plan was for me to be a Member of Parliament by now, but he's put up with me so far. Who knows how long that will last. He'll be mad when he finds out I split up with Deldry. She's impoverished nobility," he added in answer to Ban's questioning stare.
"Look, don't think too badly of Zeldris," Meliodas added. "It's not been easy for him."
"Right, having all this wealth must be so difficult," sneered Ban. "Poor you."
"I didn't mean that," Meliodas continued sadly as Ban glowered at him. He decided he'd have to try and explain. "My father is horrible. Really, really horrible. He's hard to cope with and poor Zeldris has had the brunt of it. My father adores him, but that's because he controls him. Zeldris has never had any freedom at all..." Meliodas stopped short, realising the full truth of this for the first time.
"Lord Lorimer, the prince of darkness. Is he as bad as the media make out?" Ban asked, returning to his standard nonchalant sing-song tone and Meliodas felt himself sigh with relief. Ban's anger had lessened and if he played his cards right it might still be possible to salvage the friendship.
"He's... worse." Meliodas broke off, distracting himself by collecting up the empty plates and moving round the countertop to put them in the dishwasher.
"So listen, do you want to stay here for a bit?" Meliodas asked. "My family aside, I think we get on pretty well." He held his breath, hoping against hope that Ban would say yes. It had been such a relief to have someone to talk to and Ban was more fun to be with than anyone he had ever met.
"I can't," said Ban, but his voice was laced with melancholy, without any trace of the anger which had been there before.
"I promise my father won't visit or anything and Zeldris has rooms in college this year..." Meliodas started as Ban cut him off.
"There's no way I can afford to stay in a place like this. I've got nothing."
"That's okay, I don't need the money. Just pay me whatever you gave to your ex, Elaine wasn't it?" Meliodas smiled, then felt a surge of pity as Ban looked quickly down at the countertop, the desolate expression back on his face. Elaine was obviously not a safe topic of conversation just yet.
Meliodas did his best to let the ringing silence which followed well alone, waiting patiently for Ban to speak.
"I didn't pay her anything," Ban finally whispered, the words obviously forced out unwillingly. "I really have got nothing. She's been keeping me for years..." Ban's head fell into his hands at this, his fingers weaving into the spikes of his hair.
Meliodas was not surprised. He had guessed at significant hardship from yesterday's discussions, though Ban had not shared anything concrete about his background.
"You can cook though," Meliodas answered brightly. "How about you supply all the meals? I really, really can't cook myself. And if it makes you happier I'm sure you could get a job with Jesus College's bar and pay me whatever you can. They owe me a favour," Meliodas continued heading off Ban's objection.
"I don't need charity!" Ban snapped back.
"It's not. It's helping a friend get back on their feet, okay? You'll do the same for me down the line," Meliodas answered, watching Ban carefully.
Ban stared at the countertop for a good five minutes, while Meliodas moved to the sink to wash up. Ban was a good cook but also a messy one, he thought as he scrubbed the pan before clearing away the detritus surrounding the hob.
"Alright, if you're sure," Ban finally replied and Meliodas grinned in delight.
"So how about a rematch? Let's see if you can beat me this time," Meliodas demanded as he placed his elbow down on the countertop.
"What are you talking about? I won the last one!" Ban argued as he eagerly took the proffered hand.
