This is a piece written entirely by lickitysplit, with a sentence or two added by me. I love this and I consider this apart of my "snippet universe".
-Her Only Suitor-
There is another banquet scheduled for that evening, and Zeldris is not interested in going. He spent another whole day training with his brothers. This time he was only allowed to use magic attacks, and with Meliodas' use of Full Counter it was almost torturous. He just wanted to hit something, and was almost glad when Estarossa suggested a spar later that day. Unfortunately his bruised and sore body would not cooperate, and the prince was given a second dose of humiliation that afternoon.
The last thing he wants to do now is put on formal clothes and watch people he doesn't know eat for two hours, but he does not have a choice. Once he is cleaned and dressed, he makes his way down to the banquet hall. The delegation from the Vampire clan is still staying in the castle, so state affairs had not only been more lavish than normal, but also more mandatory than normal. The demon king wants Izraf and his subjects as his allies, desiring their power and wealth for his war. It seems ridiculous to Zeldris—after all, who could possibly compare to the strength of the demons?—but in the end, it is not his decision, and as the king's son he must present himself.
After the required greeting with the kings, Zeldris heads off to find a place to hide. Perhaps hide is the wrong word: go unnoticed is more akin to what he needs. Meliodas and Estarossa are nowhere in sight, thankfully, so the prince takes a drink from a passing tray and heads towards one of the benches near the balcony.
It is a warm night, and the bodies and lights that fill the hall make the air even warmer, so he is glad for the breeze coming from the open doorway that leads to the large balcony. Dignitaries swarm together, talking and drinking and laughing, the din echoing through his head. And on top of it all, there are humans present. Zeldris is disgusted at the looks of them, many of them searching around nervously, awe-struck by the palace and the strength of those that surround them. He had been briefed that there are visitors from more than one of the smaller human kingdoms in attendance, looking for power and ready to make deals with the demon king in order to get it. He supposes it makes sense for the demons to make as many allies as possible, but in the end it would be futile. The demons cannot be stopped.
The coming war is all anyone speaks of, and Zeldris is tired of it already. It had been months of this talk, yet nothing seems to be happening, and the prince wishes that one side or the other would just get on with it. He leans forward, propping his elbows on his knees, stretching his sore back. The prince scans the crowd, taking in the groups, observing for what is underneath as he has been taught… when his eyes land on Gelda.
The vampire princess stands near the center of the room, holding an almost empty glass of wine and talking to three young men. She is beautiful, absolutely radiant, wearing a flowing dress in deep burgundy. It shows off her fair skin and the blonde hair that is twisted into curls around her face. The princess smiles politely as the three talk over one another, and when she speaks, they stop and listen attentively. Gelda is by far the only redeemable thing about this cursed state visit, which seems to be stretching on interminably. But Zeldris doesn't completely mind, because he is more nervous about what will happen when she leaves.
They had been spending a great deal of time together, as much as was possible, anyway. He had volunteered to escort her whenever she needed to leave the castle, and looked for reasons to see her during the day when he could escape from one of his trainers or tutors. And Gelda actually seemed happy to see him, easily agreeing to whatever lame excuse he made up to keep them in each other's company.
It had all paid off one night when she slipped her hand in his, and then later, when he finally worked up the nerve to kiss her. Zeldris is still rather stunned by her beauty, by her grace and her spirit and the air of sophistication that plays tantalizingly against her sweetness. She is witty and gracious and sometimes he catches her looking at him in a way that makes his skin go uncomfortably hot. Yet despite how amazing she is, and how very not he always seems to become around her with all his fumbling and stammering, Gelda likes him.
The kiss they had shared was sweet and perfect, and to his excitement the vampire wanted more. In the days since, they had continued their flirtation, both learning how to please the other with eager lips and tentative tongues. There is nothing that compares to the moment when the prince can slip his arms around her small waist, feel her hair in his fingers, receiving a soft press of her mouth on the corner of his. Zeldris smiles a bit to himself thinking of how they had found a little spot just the evening before, and Gelda had sat on his lap, her hands sliding up his arms—
Just as she is doing now to the human leaning in to speak to her.
Red heat blazes up the back of his neck, the prince sitting up a bit straighter as he watches. The human, whoever he is, is bent over slightly to say something in Gelda's ear, and her hand is on his arm as she laughs. Then she is nodding, a little blush coming to her face; there is another moment, then another, before he straightens back up, and she removes her hand.
The conversation continues, but Zeldris barely registers anything else, his eyes trained on the spot on the bastard's arm that she had touched. Is this what she does when he is not around? Is she finding corners of the castle to meet up with other princes? The demon swallows, trying to keep his rolliing emotions at bay. This is Gelda, not some random female in the castle. She is gracious and honorable, and surely she is being polite to the men who are jockeying for her attention.
But then another inclines his head, and Gelda smiles sweetly up at him through her lashes, and now Zeldris wants to tear them each apart.
Gelda smiles politely at the three men who are regaling her with the story of a recent hunt they had gone on, bored nearly to tears. They are somehow related to one of the princes from one of the the human kingdoms, not that she cared to truly learn their names or the name of their home. They are the third—or was it fourth?—attempt by a guest to catch her fancy. Gelda supposed they must have assumed there was a better chance in numbers, and had kept her effectively trapped for the better part of a half hour. At first they seemed interesting enough, and the vampire must admit it was nice to receive such attention from three handsome young men. But their overly silly nature is grating on her nerves, especially now that they are each subtly trying to get her alone.
When she introduces herself as Gelda, Princess of Edinburgh, their eyes light up like sparks. Immediately she knows once the words were gone from her lips that they now only see her title. One leans down to make a crude joke at one of the other's expense; she gives a polite chuckle, trying to think of how to extricate herself, when his hand goes to slip around her waist. Gelda cannot help the blush that forms on her face in fury, but the princess knows better than to make a scene. She presses a hand on his arm to stop him; he whispers in her ear how lovely she looks, and she nods.
The advance is averted, but another sees his chance, bending forward to comment on her dress. The vampire looks up at him with a tight-lipped and rather sour smile. She wonders for a moment if they are intoxicated, as they do not seem to be picking up on her cues to leave her be; then she figures that even if they are, they probably don't care enough.
Where is Zeldris? The demon princes should have been there by now, and Gelda had been hoping he would escort her and save her from the drudgery of the evening. Deciding to give up being discreet, she looks around the room, ignoring the conversation for a moment, but the demon is nowhere to be seen. With a sigh Gelda finally turns back to them and interrupts, saying, "Excuse me, I'm sorry, but I need to go and… find my father." She flashes a smile and remarks, "It was a pleasure to meet you all."
But as she turns to go, one grabs her elbow. "Your Highness, let me accompany you," he says, and she realizes it's the one that tried to slip his arm around her before.
"It's really not necessary," she says, pulling her arm away. "Excuse me."
Before any of them can say another word she practically runs off, squeezing in between the groups in the room. Seeing her father is the last thing she wishes to do. He had lectured her plenty before the banquet about the importance of forming strong allies and presenting strength and other such nonsense that meant she needed to be on her very best behavior. Of course Gelda wanted to please Izraf, and wanted the best for her clan… but did that have to include entertaining the very tiresome sons of his potential allies?
She hands her glass off to a passing servant and takes a little cake from a passing tray. Vampires don't have to eat, as a rule, but she does enjoy the occasional sweet treat. No one seems to be paying her much attention, so she pops the little truffle into her mouth. It tastes delicious, and the princess closes her eyes and sighs.
Just then someone takes her hand, and with her eyes still closed she smiles. Gelda weaves her fingers with his, slowly swallowing before licking her lips. "I wondered where you were," she whispers, and when she feels his lips brush the back of her hand, she giggles. Zeldris was never what she would consider charming, even though she found him endearing in his own way. His bold move brings a little flutter inside of her, and Gelda opens her eyes with a grin.
The man who is kissing her hand sweetly is not Zeldris. Gelda clears her throat and tries to gently remove her hand, but the zealous gentleman squeezes her tighter, looking up at her now as he brushes his lips back and forth on her skin. She raises her eyebrows in an uncomfortable incredulity and offers a gentle, "Excuse me, sir?"
"Your Highness," he murmurs against her skin. The princess frowns now, tugging again, but the man slides his other hand down her arm, pushing up the ruffled sleeve of her dress to expose her white skin. "You are more beautiful than I've heard. I'm so glad to meet you at last."
"Thank you?" she says uncertainly. "But I'm sorry, I don't know-"
"Prince Felan," he answers, his smile sliding over his face like oil. Gelda sighs to herself; another one to soak up her time and attention. Part of her looks forward to the day when her father will choose her husband, just so that these uncomfortable encounters will stop. Of course, when that happens, then she will no longer be able to see Zeldris…
That snaps her attention back to the prince, who is tracing circles up and down her arm as he speaks. "I told my father to speak to yours, of course, but I just couldn't wait. You'll enjoy the North, Your Highness, I'm sure."
"I'm sorry, what?" she asks, shaking her head.
The prince frowns. "Haven't you been listening to anything I said?"
Offended now, he lets go of her hand, and Gelda gratefully pulls it behind her back. Again her eyes sweep the room, looking for Zeldris, or at least something that can rescue her from this latest one—when she finally spots him. Gelda heaves a sigh of relief, her face breaking into a smile as she raises a hand in a little wave, before she notices the deep scowl the demon wears.
Zeldris narrows his eyes as Gelda finally sees him. He wonders what she is playing at with the wave—is she happy to see him? His jaw grinds painfully as the smile she flashed at him slowly disappears, and she looks at him questioningly. The newest gentleman is talking to her, leaning in again to catch her attention; now distracted, the vampire looks back at him, and suddenly Zeldris is angry she would turn away from him.
He had to endure her flirting with the first three, and the way they would casually lean in to brush their lips on her, the easy touches between Gelda and the disgusting humans. Then she went in search of someone, and Zeldris had followed to watch. Another one, perhaps? It makes no sense to him at all. Gelda had never seemed the type to do such a thing. Of course, Zeldris' knowledge of what women are and are not capable of is limited at best.
And now another, his mouth actually on Gelda, his hand sliding on her skin, and she is smiling at him! It's nearly too much for him to take as his chest squeezes painfully, not wanting to watch but unable to stop.
Then, the worst possible scenario: Estarossa slides up next to him. He senses his brother only a moment before the older says, "I suppose that kiss didn't go very well, did it?"
"What?" Zeldris snaps, looking up at him angrily.
Estarossa shrugs, looking ahead, and Zeldris knows he is watching Gelda as well. "If the girl had any interest, she wouldn't be walking around with every other important suitor, would she?" he snorts.
Suitors? That… makes sense. Suddenly Zeldris feels a bit of hope. Perhaps her father is making her meet these men? After all, she did wave to him, and smile at him. Maybe he has this situation wrong?
He curses his lack of experience in these situations as Estarossa says, "So are you just going to stand there?"
Now it is Zeldris' turn to laugh. "What are you talking about?"
Estarossa leans down a bit to speak quietly to the younger demon. "I know if I had claimed a woman and someone else tried to take her, I would not hesitate."
"I haven't claimed her," he snaps. "We haven't—I'm not—"
"You want her though," responds Estarossa. "You said so yourself. And yet here you stand, watching another touch her instead of putting him in the ground."
Zeldris looks down at the floor, a bit of heat on his face again. That is exactly what he wanted to do—still wants to do, in fact. "I can't exactly walk over to a prince and cut his head off in the hall," he mutters.
"No doubt!" Estarossa shouts with a laugh, startling several of the guests around them. Zeldris looks up and sees Gelda glancing his way again, blinking expectantly at him, her eyebrows rising slightly. "Best of luck to you then," his brother chuckles, clapping him hard on the back and making him wince.
From the corner of his eye Zeldris watches him walk away, angry with his insinuations but knowing he is right. With a deep breath he walks forward, his heart doing a small flip when he sees Gelda catch her breath with his approach. He decides to handle this quickly, just think of an excuse to take her to the side and ask himself what is going on. There was no reason to cause potential damage to any of the alliances being formed by losing his temper. He is a warrior, yes, but also a prince; princes use diplomacy.
Gelda turns at his approach, relief washing through her. Fern or Farm or whatever-his-name-is is still going on about the wedding they will have, and she sucks in a little breath of excitement to see Zeldris coming closer. His face is still cold and hard, but it often is until they are alone together; Gelda wonders if he will always wear this mask when he is around others. She also notices the stiff way he walks, and the way he holds his head up at a slight angle, which tells her he had another brutal day of training. It pains her to know that he is enduring such difficulties, but if this is the demon way, what could she possibly do about it other than lend a soothing kiss or two?
When Zeldris is next to her, the prince finally stops speaking, but neither pay attention as they stare at one another. His eyes are as unreadable as always, but she can sense the agitation coming from him. The prince clears his throat rather loudly, making Gelda jump; not knowing exactly what to do, she smiles politely and says, "Zeldris, I'm so glad to see you. May I introduce you to—ah—"
She blanks on the prince's name, blinking back at him in surprise, but to her relief the prince is not paying her any attention either, instead slowly regarding the demon up and down. "You are a demon by the looks of it," the prince scoffs, nodding towards the mark on Zeldris' forehead. "Perhaps you don't realize it, but it's rude to interrupt a conversation."
Zeldris' eyes narrow to slits for a moment as he regards the man before looking at Gelda. "I need to speak with you."
Gelda nods eagerly, but the prince moves a bit to step between them as he says, "Absolutely not, I am speaking to Her Highness."
"Step back," Zeldris says, his voice full of malice and sending a shiver through her.
The prince smirks, drawing himself up to stand over them, and Gelda feels herself getting angry. "I won't be intimidated by such a small demon," he says. Then the prince reaches out to grab at her arm, but she jerks out of the path of his hand with an angry shout, moving closer to Zeldris.
The demon, however, must have seen his intention, because just as she presses against his side, he pushes her behind him, rearing back with his other hand to land a blow directly on his jaw. The prince goes down with a shout, slamming to the ground, those around them turning and gawking. But Zeldris takes no notice, stepping up to grind his foot into the prince's shoulder, eliciting another shout of pain from the man groaning on the ground.
"Do not touch the princess again," he says. After a moment he slowly steps back, the prince's chest heaving with his erratic breaths, and Zeldris turns to look at her.
His voice, his posture, his face, everything about him in that moment scream danger, violence, pain; but Gelda only feels protected. He takes her by the elbow and pushes her to the side, the people making way for the prince and princess as he steers her determinedly back towards the balcony. Then they are outside in the night air, Zeldris still pulling her until they are on the far side, away from where people can see unless they are looking.
Finally he lets her go, his shoulders tense as he turns on her. For a brief second she wonders if he will lash out at her next, but the way he is clenching his fists and pressing his mouth in a tight line shows her how he is struggling to maintain his control. She barely dares to breathe for a moment, just staring, until he finally bites out, "What have you been doing?"
"I'm sorry," she whispers. "He… I don't even remember his name." The absurdity of what just happened hits her suddenly, and Gelda lets out a laugh, quickly covering her mouth with her hand. "I can't believe you just did that!" she exclaims.
She giggles again, unable to help herself, but Zeldris does not stop his deep scowl. "I've seen you all night, Gelda. You've been talking to every man in there!"
Her eyes go wide in surprise. "Zeldris! What are you talking about? They approached me, and I can't be rude." She tilts her head to the side, her lips twisting into a sly smile. "Are you—are you jealous?"
Zeldris clears his throat uncomfortably, the tension slowly leaving his body. Stupid Estarossa, getting him worked up over nothing. He knew Gelda would never be like that… still, it had been more unnerving than he had expected to see her with others, and even more unnerving was his reaction to it. "No," he finally answers. "I know you will have—suitors, I suppose. But that last one—"
Suddenly her arms are around his neck, and she presses her mouth on his as she presses her body against him. He quickly grabs her up, his hands sliding over her hips and up her back, tilting his face as she kisses him. "I don't want any suitor but you, Zeldris," she whispers against his lips.
He pulls back a bit, his eyes looking down at her lips. "You want me? As a suitor?"
Gelda nods, her smile softening at the hint of uncertainty in his question. "You were the one who suggested we get married after all." She reminds him, quite fond of the memory. She waits expectantly, her eyes tracing over his face, but Zeldris does not respond the way she assumes; instead, he leans in to kiss her again, and she kisses him in return.
