One Shot based on this prompt from Tumblr:
Melizabeth - first time he sees her dressed like a proper princess.
SIMPLY ELIZABETH
He'd seen her loads of times in all sorts of different outfits. The waitress ensemble had always been a particular favorite, for obvious reasons. It was accessible and complimented her figure in a way that was more masterpiece than tavern employee.
While he waited for her in the entrance hall of the castle, he pouted. Surely, whatever get-up they were throwing over her upstairs was only going to conceal. They already had him dressed in the worst kind of formal attire. He'd loosened the collar and rolled up the sleeves a bit. Let himself breathe. And he wasn't even a girl. Imagine what poor Elizabeth had to endure?
It was almost enough to rouse his instincts to protect her. Meliodas put his hands behind his head, looking up the grand, wide staircase and chuckling. Imagine the look on her maid's face if he burst in all gallant to save her from the perils of corsets. He'd never do it, but it was a tempting daydream. Elizabeth would be half dressed by now, yeah? And if he timed it right, whatever entrapment they'd ensnared her with so far could easily be discarded for something more...freeing.
He sighed. Geez, she'd been up there an awfully long time. Maybe he really did have cause to worry.
It was a good thing that he heard her voice echoing as she approached from whatever corridor led to her rooms. These old castles, they had hallways everywhere. However, hearing her voice, he forgot all about his garment reservations and chased after it. Meliodas was half way up the stairs to meet her, grinning like an idiot even though she'd only been gone for barely half an hour.
"Hey, Elizabeth, they're still setting up in the ballroom if we hurry we could-"
She was standing there, at the top of the stairs, her hands dropping her full skirts back to the ground as she waited.
"Um, Sir Meliodas? Is something wrong?"
To be honest, yes there was. He. He had been wrong.
She smiled shyly, turning her head away. Her platinum hair was pulled up and high on her head, a few strands left free and curling around her face. Still, after several minutes, he couldn't find words.
It wasn't the dress, though the dress was actually quite nice. Pale colors suited her, and yes the full skirts brushed the floor and her waist and midriff was fully covered in a tight bodice and her shoulders were adorned in embroidered sleeves-however, her the neckline and low, squeezing corset flattered and displayed her chest rather nicely-but that wasn't it either. It wasn't any part of that dress. It was all her.
Her shoulders were straight, proud. The guys called her princess, an endearing nickname, but Elizabeth was a princess. Her posture was not only perfect, it was commanding. Every inch of her was confidence. Even when she turned her head and blushed because he was staring, she'd kept her chin high. There were hints of her shyness, in her eye or in that smile she gave him, but she carried it with such dignity. Elizabeth could probably chug a mug of ale, curse like a sailor, and then punch him in the face and it would still look refined.
"You're..."
She smiled wide, looking down at her dress and giving the skirts a twirl. "Do you like it? I admit, I was a bit worried you'd think it was too much. I mean, I normally prefer to dress more modestly. But I suppose since it's a special occasion I...Sir Meliodas?"
He was not aware he'd taken a single step. He couldn't look anywhere else, she pulled him in like a beacon. He held out his hand, an offering that, suddenly, he felt a bit unworthy to be making. She'd have every right to turn it down for something better. Like a king. Or a deity. Or something.
But she didn't.
He held her hand gently, still unable to stop himself from staring. "You look amazing, Elizabeth."
She blushed deeper. "Thank you."
He never had a problem with his confidence. Elizabeth was the only person to ever shake it like this, to make him doubt himself. He tripped on the way down the stairs.
"Are you alright?"
He was laughing when he answered, "Yeah, I'm not really being too smooth about this am I?"
"I think you're doing just fine." She tilted her head to the side and asked, "Is there something wrong?"
"Well, it's not so much that something is wrong. I suppose it's more that things are right. But that sounds a bit cheesy, doesn't it?"
She considered. "Hm, no I don't think so. I'm not sure what you mean but-"
"What I mean, is that you're making me nervous and I've never felt nervous like this before. It's a good thing, though." He had shocked her, she was giving him that look that meant he said something surprising.
"I...I'm sorry. Is it the dress? I can go change-"
"No, no. Elizabeth, it's not the dress. It's you."
He saw tears well in her eye, but from her smile it seemed they were happy ones.
"Come on. I promised to accompany you and I don't want to break that promise."
"Yes, alright." She gently threaded her arm through his, hooking them together as they finished descending the stairs.
"I think I owed you a dance, too," he said.
"I don't remember you promising a dance."
"Well, I'm promising now. And I'm promising that as long as you're okay with it, I'd like to dance with you most of the night. Probably every song."
"Ev-every song? That's-"
"That's so no one else can get the chance. Plus, I really just want to dance with you."
He felt her tense against his arm, but she was smiling when she told him she'd like nothing more. And that was all he really needed. Cause really, it wasn't Elizabeth's clothes that made him want to talk to her all the time or caused him to miss her when she was gone or that kept him up at night or that captured his thoughts when he woke. It had always been simply Elizabeth.
The End
