~Prologue~
The Goddess Clove finds herself in a new position for herself tangled with another.
Her evening travel to Britannia had turned into one of fun and games with her fellow Goddesses as they all celebrated the unchallenged peace over the lands. The lengthy blond haired green eyed Goddess had managed to attain a few of the wines sweetened with fruits of all sorts. This had amplified the enjoyment of the night infinitely. It also made her reasoning near non existent.
She vaguely recalls wandering off on her own and a handsome male sweeping her off her feet. The tangle of her thoughts and the thrum through her blood made his words, his touch, his scent, and overall presence impactful in the Goddess' addled mind. Somehow his body was above hers in a secluded clearing, filling the space between her thighs in ways that had her writhing towards an almost painful release. Over and over the male took her until she was thoroughly filled with his seed, utterly spent from gratification, her body marked in places she never thought one would touch before. And then he left while she slept in the night.
And morning arrives. Then midday. Clove awakens then with only the vague recollection of a pleasurable night spent with a man she can't recall. The ache in her body tells her this as she stands on legs as wobbly as jelly. She's not worried however as Goddesses aren't above staying within their own race in seek of pleasure. So after straightening her ruined pastel dress as best as she can, Clove heads back up to the Celestial Realm to resume her duties.
Months pass and she forgets about the experience for the most part in her task as a Battle Goddess. Despite there bring peace, she still likes to keep her skills sharp. However, something has been hindering her training. Unexplainable exhaustion makes it near impossible for the green eyed Goddess to stay on her feet at times. Sore joints make nimble movements agonizing. And her normal diet has dwindled.
Only when she is cornered by a Goddess of Life and thoroughly examined does she discover the reasoning behind her sudden decline in ability. Clove is expecting. Surprise floods her veins more reckless than a waterfall as she stares with wide green eyes.
"A baby?" Her voice is barely there as she sits atop a roof in the Celestial Realm overlooking the white cloudy plane. She remembers her time with the mysterious man, but hadn't thought much would come of it. Apparently now she'll be bringing a new boy or girl among the Goddesses. A crooked grin stretches across her face as her hand slides over her subtly swollen stomach.
But then two voices pass below her whispering heatedly, as if their words hold valuable merit; classic gossip. But Clove listens anyway as a breeze sweeps by swaying her locks and feathers, feeling as if nothing can bring her down.
"Did you hear about the Prophecy?" The woman implores.
"Yes! It's been spreading like wild fire. I can't believe a Demon borne of a Goddess is meant to bring about the ruination of our race…" The make responds somberly.
Clove perks at this recalling vaguely of hearing the same herself, but had brushed it off. Now her eyebrows draw down in consideration.
"But how can that be?' The woman demands desperate. "A demon born from a Goddess? Wouldn't that be a mixed breed?"
"Likely so," the male ponders, "But when we breed with humans they always become full Goddesses, because we're more powerful than they. So if the same were to happen with one of us…" He trails off and the atmosphere becomes piercing with its frigid drop.
"Alright. Okay. So we obviously shouldn't mate with demons…" The woman attempts to nervously laugh off as they both begin to walk away.
Clove's hand over her belly is now tense as she stares blankly ahead. She was asked who the lucky father was and she'd of course shrugged it off and claimed it to be a gullible human, but... She really has no clue. Shaking her head rapidly to dislodge her wayward thoughts she gives a shaky smile. "I'm worrying over nothing. That's just a rumor anyhow."
Her hand stays tense over her belly.
Time flies and her stomach grows with her baby. Training is abandoned in favor of rest. "I swear it was stealing all of my energy and hoarding it for itself!" she likes to joke to others when they ask of her well being. Of course that question always seems to be followed by the one about the identity of farther. She reasons that everyone is paranoid about the rumor and she isn't the only Goddess who's pregnant that's asked this. She's the only one who can't give a straight answer though.
Eventually the questions and watchful eyes get to the blond and she winds up traveling to Britannia in the heat of early summer. Not exactly wise when she's extremely close to giving birth, but the Goddess would much rather go at it alone than with the suspicious stares of her clan. And honestly it doesn't take long. In fact it hits her rather suddenly as she's resting near a lake cooled by the breeze coming off of it.
The pain is crippling, more than excruciating as she finds a place to lay in preparation. Alone she bears down in synch with her instincts for hours, experiencing a battle more bloody and agonizing than what she's gone through on the field. By morning the next day she gives birth to a boy with beautiful blond hair that shines golden in the morning sun.
His eyes are a soul leeching black with a matching smudge of a mark over his right eyebrow.
Clove is stricken as she stares at her son, a pure demon, that wails for the love and care of his mother... Something she cannot give him.
Clove's hands tremble as she holds the babe wriggling and whimpering for food. She gapes at him as her heart pounds, her night of pleasure resulting in this. A demon. The prophesized demon. If her clan was to discover... She takes haggard breaths still exhausted from childbirth and contemplates killing him. Slowly a trembling hand raises over the now flushed baby's face as crackles begin to spark against her palm. 'End him. End him...'
The boy's black eyes meet hers for a long moment and her heart squeezes. Her palm clenches and the power is doused. She can't kill him with her own hand. Not her only son. Stiffly she edges to her feet not giving the boy another look as she gazes around for the right spot... When she sees it, the place where the sun's rays will grow in intensity over the course of the day, Clove sits the sniffing baby down. Then she steels herself and abandons him to his eventual fate, returning to the Celestial Realm weary from her experience. But the knowledge of the fact that the demon meant to bring ruination to the Goddesses is taken care of eases any worry that arises.
By afternoon, the boy is on the brink of death from hunger and dehydration. Until a being with beady black eyes and a thin jagged smile stretched across its face happens upon him. The lesser demon swiftly brings the baby to the Underworld upon recognizing the baby's heritage.
Clove had made a mistake. Being a battle Goddess had made her accustom with the knowledge of strategies and tactics, thinking two steps, no four steps, a million steps ahead of her opponent. And yet she went back to her Realm with no baby after leaving pregnant with one. She was under suspicion before and making such a stupid mistake should have been avoided easily. But now she's being hung by her wrists, bare of clothing, in cold, biting chains in the courtyard of the palace where all sentences for extreme grievances against the Realm are dealt.
She will not make it through this trail.
"Where is the demon child!?"
Her breathing trembles between her lips and tears trickle from her eyes. "He did not make it through childbirth!" She croaks in the silence that follows. Eyes seem to pierce her soul from all around. They know of her lie as well as she does, but she is sure that the baby is dead by now. Positive of it.
Splitting cracks begin to echo across the courtyard as she's whipped relentlessly. Blood springs free of her gashes gleaming in the light of day, straining her pale skin and sagging wings as her body jolts continuously as if overwhelmed by electricity. Clove shrieks as her throat becomes raw with her tears. "I d-do not lie! He is d-dead! PLEASE!"
But no one listens as the whip continues to fly. The Goddesses are vibrating with the energy coming from the justice Clove is being given. Her screams and pleading wails slowly, but surely, die out as a thick pool of blood gathers below her body. The moment is clear when the whip cuts through her body for the umpteenth time how limp she moves, how her sounds fall silent. Her green eyes, once vibrant and mischievous fall shut, hollow and bleak. Skin practically flayed from her body, Clove succumbs to her wounds and her heart mercilessly gives its last beat.
There's absolute silence for several moments as the whip is reeled back into a manageable loop.
Then a male with long black hair, a key spectator of Clove's death takes a place a short distance in front of her hanging body. His expression is curled severely. "Have her body fed to a dragon. This one deserved no better than the death of a mongrel." No one objects as his voice rings clear and Goddesses move quickly to take Clove's body from the courtyard. "Let this be a lesson to you all! Further treachery to our clan will resort to immediate punishment!" He just about roars as spittle flies past his lips.
Every Goddess in attendance immediately rises and bows with a noticeable trembles in their bones.
A dark age crawls over them before they even knew it. New laws forbid the females from leaving the Celestial Realm with overall rules they must abide by or risk imprisonment, grueling labor, or whippings. Royals especially must be in accordance of these laws, because there is more to the prophecy that only the archangels and the Demon King himself, who bred the now deceased Goddess Clove, knows of.
~1~
'Faster, faster, faster!' His lungs struggle valiantly to provide the necessary oxygen to his straining muscles. His legs pump quickly, pushing him harder, faster through the cluster of trees that sprout up all around him, twisting high up like a rustic labyrinth. He manages to weave agilely through them however. The thick crunch of leaves and twigs beneath his worn boots is the only sound apart from his frustrated breathing. Green eyes as deep and unruly as the forest around him narrow viciously at the sharp rustling of shrubbery up ahead and it takes only an instant for the color to seep from his eyes. Like ink bleeding across parchment, darkness takes its place seeming to run from his right eye down his cheek and up over his right eyebrow in a messy swirl.
'I need to be faster. I need to become stronger!' The exact moment he's just within leaping range of the shuddering bush something darts from it with a howl that scrapes across his ears. Meliodas braces his foot in the ground, rotating smoothly just as a powerful force swipes past his face. Right where he would have been. His mind is blank, clear. He only acts according to instinct as he completes his revolution, raising his left hand towards his sword strapped to his back before tensing his muscles in order to backflip just as a spray of flames sears across the grassy earth.
He can see it clearly now. The creature at least a head longer than he with a lashing tail, four clawed paws, and a nice pair of wings that can carry its hefty weight. The fire spewing from its mouth lined with sharp teeth only hammers home the answer. Before the blond can plan a counterattack though his back slams into bark with such force it quakes throughout his form. He should have paid better attention to where he was jumping, but hindsight is better than foresight he decides bitterly as he drops to the ground that's catching fire rapidly.
His spine seizes up with the sound the dragon makes only this time its coupled with the spinning feel in his skull from the impact. But Meliodas pushes through the sensations with the force of his anger. His legs protest and his spine smarts but he rises to stand as his hand grips his sword to where the handle nearly embeds into his palm. This dragon is just an obstacle, it's flames just a test. He'll go through anything, cut through anyone to get to where he needs to be. He refuses to be a pathetic little thing any longer. Like hell is he going to sit back and let others fight his battles anymore.
"I'll end you," The words are rough with the smog that sears down his throat, blazing over the dragon's vicious cries as it prepares to lunge. Not a second trickles by before the beast makes its move, speeding through the air as if provoked by the demon's words. Meliodas doesn't hesitate, doesn't even allow a thought to slip into his mind. He only moves, reacts as the roaring of flames fills his ears.
Blood hisses in the dancing flames all around.
~.~.~
"She must be found at all costs! Search every nook and cranny if you must!"
Feet pound and rush about in haste at the thunderous order, sounding so loud and vicious to the girl tucked away she winds up pitching forward with a jolt and a choked gasp, her hands scuffing along the cold stones beneath her. But she truly has nothing to fear, as her wide blue eyes swivel around in terror, at least for now. Her breathing sounds deafening in her ears, stuttering and rapid as various shouts continue on the floor above her, but she can't let fear stop her now. She's gotten this far.
Rising to stand as another thump above her rumbles ominously around her, she steadily scurries forward keeping one hand along the dusty cramped walls. 'I have to keep going. I can't stay here any longer.' Her lip aches between her teeth, but her nerves won't allow her to release it forcing a thin trail of blood to stand stark against her pale skin.
This tunnel beneath the castle, she only found upon accident. She can tell it's quite old from the many stones that litter the ground, tripping her up and causing her to squeak each time she's threatened to fall forward once more. Her plan of escape was a flimsy one and one she hadn't thought she'd get this far into. The dress she wears is the most unassuming she owns, short along her calves, and thin against her arms but it still feels as if she's drenched in sweat and weighed down by layers of her usual uniform.
"We can't let her get away! FIND HER!"
The voices are too close. She's not moving fast enough. Heart now in her throat, her feet begin to stumble in a hindering sprint ahead. The darkness that paints the walls and cloaks the area makes it impossible for her to not wind up with several cuts and bruises more often than not. But she must succeed. "I won't let them use me." She pants, nearly wheezing as sweat trickles down her forehead plastering her silver bangs to her forehead. "I don't want… this life."
So she presses onward until the voices finally begin to fade away. The sound of her feet stumbling in blindness, her breathing restless in fright, and the stale damp air all around her are her only company for what begins to feel like hours. Step, step, stumble, fall. Push herself up and then try again. The process repeats over and over, but she keeps her eyes forward, her mind focused on what lies outside of these walls. Once free no one will dictate her every move any longer. No more painted smiles and faux pleasantries. No more routines that start from sun up to sundown. No more severe rules that leave her crippled in heartbreak. She'll finally, finally be able to step outside of the stoney castle grounds. She'll have her dream come true.
A thin outlining up ahead is what swells her spirits and nearly draws her up short. A door. The door to her freedom. She slips forward, about to make a mad dash for it—
Scraping scuffles that echo off the walls at an unimaginable speed sound behind her giving her a sickly pallor as she jerkily turns her head to see what could be coming behind her. But there's only darkness entirely blocking her vision. The noise however tells her more than she'd ever wanted to know.
" Elizabeth! You should already know by now… there's no way out for you!"
Elizabeth screams with the intensity of a petrified child as she dashes forward, staying up on her feet, with prayers of reaching the door in time. "Please don't let me stay here! Don't let me stay here!" She bumps into the walls, releases gasping breaths as her eyes gather with tears that escape in flowing drops, but the person continues to keep pace. Gaining. So close she can almost feel them .
And then her hand outstretches and she pushes frantically on the door. Bang . Once. Bang, boom! Twice and it opens with a whoosh as she dives forward into the burning sunlight. Fingertips brush against her back scrambling to grab ahold of her dress, but Elizabeth spreads her wings and shoots forward faster than she ever thought she could, having never truly gotten to use the four thin wings upon her back before. The person chasing her is screaming after her and Elizabeth knows she only has seconds to leave this realm.
Or this will all be for nothing.
Not taking in the scenery around her as panic laces her veins too thickly, Elizabeth spies the one thing she needs, the one thing she learned was one of the easiest ways to disappear from this realm: Thick fluffy white clouds, almost boundless in their spread beyond the castle's walls.
"Get back here you little wench!"
The slight doesn't slow her down in the slightest as she angles herself into a freefalling plummet towards the clustered clouds. The wind rushes against her face, forcing her lengthy silver strands back, and making her feel more free than she's ever felt before in her short existence even though she's yet to break away completely. But.. she believes. Even as more voices begin to gather, as the pursuer threatens to close the gap, Elizabeth closes her eyes and lets herself fall.
A chilling burst envelopes her more frosty and invigorating than anything she's ever experienced and then... silence. Calming, and completely vast in its oblivion.
'I made it.' The thought is a breath a fresh air. 'I'm free.'
~.~.~
When she first awakens, she feels a smooth, tickling sensation pressing up against her exposed skin from beneath her. She breathes in deeply smelling something moist, fresh and entirely new. Shifting, then scrunching her nose slightly as the sensation beneath her causes her nose to itch, she begins to open her eyes, blinking against an exhaustion that threatens to drag her under once more.
Elizabeth always dreamt about what it would be like to step outside of her home realm. Would there be more color than just the bland whites, the dull greys, and the bleak tones that drift in between? Her clothes carried pale shades of various hues, but they all seemed so muted, so suppressed. She'd look up at the sky and just imagine that… maybe… things could be brighter, softer, and warmer. The ground wouldn't be covered in either stone that bit into you or clouds that held no weight.
But never had she seen anything of the sort before. Only could she hope that such things existed. All she had were the beliefs she held which seemed to falter and weaken as days flew by caged in by those desolate walls.
What swims into her vision now is nothing she could possibly have conjured in her wildest visions, in her vivid hopes, and desperate dreams. Greens, deep, light, vibrant, and rich sprout from every direction she finds herself looking. In all shapes and forms, from the thin strips of tickling stuff beneath her to the bushy like shapes decorated with colors of all variety. Shakily she begins to push herself up, walking shakily closer to anything she can reach. Feeling touching smelling, Elizabeth begins to laugh as pure joy, sheer elation, begins to brim within her, over pouring in the form of tears as she falls to her knees in the softness of the grass . "It's grass. It's really grass," She whispers through trembling lips as fresh air swirls around her in a welcoming embrace.
Everything she's always wanted, everything she's always pushed herself towards, is now hers for the taking. And the elated goddess has no clue of where to even begin.
~.~.~
In the first few weeks of her liberation, Elizabeth came to know the world was bigger and far more complicated than she at first assumed. The first thing she absolutely knew she needed to do was find a way to hide her wings. She wasn't too sure, but goddesses among the beings of Britannia were probably very rare, so being discovered would probably lead the hell she had just left behind right back to her. So after wandering through clustered woods, eating various fruits of colors that still seemed to burn her vision, and drinking water from freshwater sources that sparkled in welcome, Elizabeth had come upon her first ever human village.
The people there regarded her in curiosity to say the least. She would like to believe that it was her youthful appearance overall that made the people more welcoming of her as she had tentatively stepped deeper into the area cluttered with buildings with shingled roofs, lined with stalls of all sorts that made her mind dizzy with the sheer possibilities, and ladened with voices and culture she only imagined in her sweetest dreams.
Many offered her clothes of fine quality, jewels worth many riches, breads drizzled in hot tasty butter. Fruits, trinkets, and every kind of object on display at their disposal they tried to push onto her, overwhelming her mind as she'd tried to politely turn down their offers. Something she'd learned from some of the woman of her realm was that things hardly ever come for free. Before her escape, she'd lined the inside of her boots with some of the coins she'd managed to actually earn and she was hoping to use that money for what she actually needed.
"A mage. Is there a mage here that would assist me, please?" She had spoke up past the pushy hands and bartering voices.
Things had gone rather quiet all to suddenly after her words then, but it wasn't too long for her question to go answered.
"This way, dearie."
She had nearly jumped at the voice appearing behind her, it was so abrupt. Elizabeth had faced the speaker of the voice only to find her already walking away expecting the goddess to follow. From what she could tell of the woman, she had seemed perhaps confident. Definitely sure of herself as her raven locks swayed slightly to the sashay of her poised steps. Elizabeth had followed her without pause deep through the village, ignoring all of the curious whispers that arose behind the two.
What came of her decision was one of the most magical experiences she had encountered thus far. Merlin was her name, and she took Elizabeth to her hidden workspace that only so few were allowed to see. The mage traveled quite frequently and only stopped in that particular village because she had a feeling she'd be needed there.
Elizabeth, Merlin told her with a curve to her plump lips, was that reason.
Out of all the things Elizabeth saw and felt in that short time of being in Merlin's company, the pure depth, knowledge, and power within those golden eyes of hers is one thing the goddess will never forget.
Merlin hadn't wanted any money in return for helping with such a simple illusion spell placed upon the goddess, for which Elizabeth was wholeheartedly shocked and grateful to discover. The mage had however placed a perfectly manicured hand upon the young preadolescent's shoulder as she gave Elizabeth one last piece of advice.
"There's an abandoned home not too deep in the woods near the last village I visited. I could take you there, if you wish, and you can find a new start, Elizabeth."
The knowing twinkle in Merlin's eyes had made it easy for her to agree.
~.~.~
A displeased breath hisses through his teeth fleetingly as he stares down at his despicable appearance. Red. A dirty, sticky, dried kind of red is splashed all across his skin from that dragon's merciless death. He defeated it easily, but he'd done it sloppily . And that is unacceptable. Turning his eyes back forward to gaze into the forest shaded a more subdued golden hue, he reflects on his state of progress while stomping angrily across foliage.
His entire reason for venturing out of the Underworld was to become stronger, to break free of the pampered life he'd led thus far. He may be a Prince, but he knows exactly who his father is, or rather what his father can do. His father is the most powerful, most terrifying, and most awe inspiring demon Meliodas has ever known. And the life the blond has been given thus far has deterred him from aspiring to such heights. His father can lay waste to entire villages, force his opponents into submission, pilfer whatever he so desires. His father can do anything.
And Meliodas wants to be just like him. No, he wants to be more. The darkness that tends to swim and swirl and rankle inside of him absolutely demands it to be so. And so Meliodas had decided to leave, without a word of reason. With the sword he'd trained with since he'd learned how to pick one up, and the clothes on his back, he'd set out to better himself no matter what.
Yet here he is. Still making foolish mistakes like the one that's left him covered in dragon's blood, filled with the beast's meat, and the forest aflame a good distance behind him. He knows these are vile acts and a good few demons would be satisfied with such, but…
"I can do better damn it." His fingers curl into fists, slowly, painfully as the tiniest hints of his strength flex just the slightest along his arms.
His failure still presses heavily on his shoulders, but he decides to cast the thoughts of it away for now in favor of cleansing his skin. He can't stand the feel of dried blood chipping away in disgusting flecks for too long. He's pleased to discover, after traveling through the quiet forest of trees that stretch so high up you'd wonder if they touch the sky, they actually begin to space apart a bit more making travel easier and his visual up ahead much clearer to make out. That's when he first notices an old rickety looking well not too far of a stretch ahead. Then a good few paces away from that he sees a little house made of wooden logs covered in old cracked leaves from the slanted roof, to the wrap around porch with steps that lead down.
He shrugs the house off as abandoned and makes for the well in hopes of being able to use the water to clean up just a little. Stepping up to the stone circular shaped well, Meliodas peers down into it and makes out the refreshing image of water, but he can't see much else. Leaning back, he grips the handle in front of him and begins push it in a smooth rotation, watching for a moment as the sturdy rope begins to wind itself back up along the top.
That's about when a girl ambles around the side of the house catching his attention immediately. He'd normally jolt to attention, muscles stiff with readiness for any attack. But… the sight of her causes him to stare in open disbelief as his hand continues to mindlessly turn the handle of the well.
She's slender, not having yet blossomed into the curves of adolescence with smooth porcelain skin, and limber limbs as she moves. Her hair is silver, lengthy and radiant in the afternoon sun as it frames her delicate face still slightly clinging to the youth of childhood. He takes all of this in within a split second from the wide depth of her cerulean gaze right down the the way she moves with a subtle grace. Unbelievably however this isn't what causes him such pause. It's what she holds in her hands as she casually works her way across the ruined yard.
A broom. She's sweeping the leaves on the forest floor with a broom .
With furrowed brows he looks over to the side of the house where various yard items lean pathetically, almost in longing of being used. Then he turns to stare at her again, sweeping so… casually as if that's the way things are supposed to go.
'What the hell is wrong with this girl?' Normally he'd use any opportunity to threaten, harm, or even kill a being. But he can see from this girl's lack of knowhow that she'd be too easy of a target even for him. So just as he finishes turning the handle of the well only to see an empty rope awaiting him— of course— Meliodas feels agitation race along his skin as he huffs. "What the hell are you doing?"
The girl squeaks undignified as he startles her out of her musings causing the dirtied broom to fly out of her hand. Piercing blue eyes land on him as he walks around the well, finding the bucket laying carelessly upon the ground where he picks it up and begins to tie it with the rope. Tugging the rough rope against the handle of the bucket a few times to be sure it's secure, Meliodas turns his moody green gaze back to her doe like stare as he almost angrily begins to lower the bucket back into the well. "Shouldn't you be using a damn rake instead of a broom to clear the leaves? Where have you been? Under a rock?"
A warm breeze passes by sweeping her hair across her face and rustling the leaves she seemed intent on clearing away as she continues to stare at him as if too horrified to find her own tongue. It cause a bit of pride to fill him knowing that even when he's not trying he can strike fear into the hearts of others.
But then she does find her will to speak again just when he's beginning to pull the bucket back up. "I… I didn't know." Her eyes turn down for only a fraction of a second before she's striding towards him in quick steps that match the hurried tempo of worry that's mysteriously crept up within her eyes. The change is so sudden he pauses in his arm's pushing motions just as the sloshing of the bucket filled with water can be heard in his ears.
Shouldn't she be afraid of him?
She's only a step away, enough for him to feel a bit of her heat, and know that she's a bit taller than him. Close enough for him to catch a whiff of her floral like scent even though there's nothing but the death of plants all around, and for him to see that her eyes may as well be a window to her every thought and emotion. She really is worried. But why?
Her hand attempts to bridge a gap between them, but she halts, raising the hairs along his skin as her pink lips part. "Are you hurt? There's so much blood…"
The words cause his spine to straighten out as he narrows his eyes just a smidgen. "I'm fine. I just need to clean up." He turns his back to her, grasping the bucket to get the water that took much longer than he assumed it would.
The sound of her footsteps quickly scurrying away helps ease his shoulders in her retreat. She thought he was hurt. Of all the damn things she could have said. The wood of the aged bucket begins to groan as he clenches it in silent anger. It's good that she left. If she'd said another stupid thing he might have forgotten his reason for not choosing her as a target.
Eyes regaining focus back upon the water before him, Meliodas starts to reach for it only— "No towel."
He's about to curse aloud when a slender hand reaches into the bucket in his hold, a limp pale towel in her hold as she quickly gathers water within it before lifting it out, then squeeze it to wring out the excess water. Meliodas turns to her once again in astonishment only for his entire body to go completely rigid as something travels through him reminiscent to a powerful shock at the feel of her fingers carefully wrapping around his forearm, at the feel of her touch.
He knows this feeling. He's felt it before, but where? His breathing sticks in his chest more often than not as he stares with wide eyes at the girl who focuses intently on cleaning the skin along his arms, dipping the bloodied towel into the bucket from time to time until she's satisfied with his slightly tanned skin's appearance.
It's only when she speaks does he find his composure once more, reining in the confusion of who she could possibly be instead for regaining control.
"What happened? If the blood isn't yours then whose is it?"
He shouldn't be surprised anymore by her ability to render him momentarily speechless. But still he finds himself blinking at her until she pauses in finishing up with his arms to look up at him. That causes his jaw to clench. "You figured it out, huh?"
Delicately she gathers more water before returning to her position this time reaching up to wipe the towel along his neck. He hopes she doesn't notice the way his adam's apple bobs as he swallows. Why is he letting her touch him? Why is this strange girl... intriguing? "Well, you have a sword, so I assume you have to be a swordsman of sorts."
" Ha!" He laughs harshly, filling the air with his bitter contempt. She thinks he's noble? What a fool . He finds himself leaning towards her startled visage as his expression turns mocking. His lips twist up to show a bit of his teeth as he sneers. Her hand filled with the weighted wet towel stills against the side of his throat. "You think I'm some kind of good guy? What if I'm the one who did the slaughtering? What would you say then?"
Her body practically radiates tension as her eyes run through a plethora of emotions merely filling him with a sick sort of glee at having finally turned the tables. But then her eyes seem to gain a firm edge as she places her free hand upon his shoulder and returns to wiping at his neck, utterly calm once more. "I would still help. If you wanted to harm me you would have. And… you also helped me here. It would have taken me ages to figure out to use a rake and how to tie the bucket to the rope to get water, so…" Her blue eyes flick up to his causing his throat to lock up around his next breath.
"Thank you."
A sharp jolt washes through him as he inhales raggedly, forcing his eyes open. A dull ceiling appears before his vision, but all he can see are those wide, pure blue eyes filled with an indescribably amount of happiness. Blinking a few times before shaking his head to clear away the image, Meliodas turns to his side to stare out of the single window partially allowing silvery moonlight to stream across the room. Why is he dreaming about that girl? That was years ago. He hadn't seen her since then or even given her a passing thought. And, yet, as he lets his eyes close once more in hopes of getting sleep before he has to return to the Underworld to visit with his father the next morning, he finds himself wondering about her, wondering why it is that he never found out what her name was.