Chapter Seven: Homecoming
Gelda watched Zeldris as he slept. She wasn't ready to move and disturb him, or disturb this peaceful moment, so she just laid next to him, enjoying his warm presence against her and the feel of his steady breathing. Light was just coming into the room, signalling the sun had risen, and that they had slept the entire night together, curled around each other.
She closed her eyes briefly, trying not to think about leaving today. Zeldris had promised to protect her when they reached the demon realm, but how could he do that? He was just a soldier. He had to follow orders, like taking her from Edinburgh. If the king wanted her punished, or gone, then there was nothing that Zeldris could do.
But he had been so earnest when he said it that she could not help but believe he would find a way. Somehow he would keep her safe, and she had never felt so sure of anything then, as he had kissed her and held her tightly, and then carried her up to the bed. She knew that it had been wrong, and terribly dangerous, but it had been too easy to get swept away by him. Her body tingled as she remembered his mouth on her, his hands on her, bringing her into ecstasy. The vampire did not want it to stop, but she had lost herself in his kiss and his touch.
Gelda did not even know that she could feel this way about someone… but now she knew for sure that she loved Zeldris.
The idea made her frightened and elated at the same time. To be a princess, in love with a common soldier… all while promised to the fearsome demon king. The idea was ludicrous, but she knew in her heart that what she felt was real. Putting aside the terror of what would happen if they were discovered, could Gelda risk everything for him? There was so much she still didn't know about him, so much doubt that surrounded him. Could Zeldris love her back? Is a demon even capable of such a thing?
She studied his face, wishing she could know for sure. Gelda would do anything, if he really did have feelings for her…
An idea struck. Gelda swallowed, and then with a last glance to make sure he was asleep, she closed her eyes. The vampire pushed her energy outward, slinking through the quiet of Zeldris' mind. The last time she had done this, it had felt dangerous, as if she was wading through thorns. But now it was calm, and still, and she slipped easily inside.
The wall was there, but when Gelda pushed against it, she was surprised to feel it move. She nearly lost their connection in her shock. But she regained her bearings and quickly pressed forward.
The energy surrounding his heart's desire was familiar, wrapping around her and pulling her in, and Gelda felt completely drawn to it. Typically she would receive pictures, or feelings, something to give a clue to what the person wanted. But she found herself unwittingly reaching out for it herself, wanting to feel for herself whatever this was. It was unsettling for her, and Gelda felt shaken by how her power was responding to him; when she tried to pull back a bit, she felt as though she was being drawn inside instead. In her mind, she reached out, not sure if she wanted to push the feeling away, or pull it closer.
All at once, she realized why: the heart's desire she found inside of Zeldris was the same one as her own.
The feeling was overwhelming then, now that she had recognized it, and she stretched out her hand, sliding it across his chest, even as inside her mind, she pressed her energy forward to entwine with his. It was approval, not accolades he wanted; purpose, not just strength. Underneath the arrogance and pride was the unmistakable soul of someone who desired to simply be recognized; briefly she remembered what he had said about his father being difficult, and Gelda wondered if they were even more alike than she had thought.
The realization made her breathless, and shakily she began to pull away, not wanting him to wake up and discover what she had done. But then, incredibly, his own mind reached out to her. Gelda nearly panicked for a moment, afraid that she would somehow be trapped; but it was inviting as it enveloped her. She found herself sinking into him, wanting more of him, pressing forward carelessly to see what else was inside his heart, when another image surfaced.
Without thinking she looked again, waiting in anticipation to see what it was—and was astounded to see herself.
Gelda gasped out loud, and the noise made the demon stir next to her. Quickly her powers snapped backwards, and Gelda blinked rapidly as the images faded. Zeldris wanted her. He wanted her. But today she was going to the demon king.
She bit her lip, her heart nearly stopping in her chest. She wasn't ready yet. She didn't want this to be over. Gelda felt his arms tighten around her as he stretched, and she rolled slowly so that she was on top of him, Zeldris on his back on the mattress.
She rested her hands on his shoulders, looking down at him as he blinked awake; then she dipped her face down to press a kiss on the corner of his mouth. Zeldris made a little noise, so she continued to press her lips lightly across his cheek, then down his neck, unsure of what to do, but wanting to do something. Anything to keep this moment from ending; anything to make him feel the way she had felt the night before.
His hands went to her hair, combing through it slowly as he murmured her name. Gelda moved up to press her mouth on his, not wanting him to speak and say it was time. But thankfully, he eagerly returned her kiss, the fingers in her hair twisting around her locks.
Heat stirred inside of her, and she opened her lips to kiss him deeply, slowly. Zeldris slid his hands down her back, making her shiver, and she arched a bit into his touch. Her legs slipped to either side of his hips, and when she pressed against him again, she felt the obvious hardness rubbing against her. Again she rocked her hips, sliding up and down on him, and he gripped her tighter with a low groan.
Her emotions were churning as they kissed and caressed each other, as Gelda's desire for him grew. She wanted more, much more, but it was impossible. A small whimper escaped her as her chest started feeling tight. Would she even ever see him again? His promise to protect her echoed in her mind again, and she wondered about his life in the demon realm. He was close to the king, but how close? Would he always be out on an errand, or would she see him at the castle? Her hands gripped his shoulders tighter, as if that would keep him close.
Then more questions started clouding her mind, deepening the confusion she felt even as his hands slid over her hips. Would she even be able to stand seeing him, after she married the king? Would the memory of this moment with him give her strength, or cause more pain? What if one day she saw Zeldris with someone else?
Gelda pulled away, pressing the side of her face against his, drawing in several slow, deep breaths. Then she sat up on his lap, and he gazed up at her expectantly. As she looked back, she realized he could not cause her pain. He had promised that he would protect her, and she believed him. Zeldris would not lie to her. And she would give all of herself in return.
As he reached for her again, Gelda gripped her dress and pulled it over her head. The demon's eyes widened at the sight of her bare body, and then he was sitting up, his arms around her, his mouth pressed on her neck. She shivered and tilted her head down, meeting his lips, and their kiss became hot and aggressive as his hands moved over her body. The doubts that had been swirling around her vanished as he roamed over her curves. Her skin burned with his touch, her body tightening in pleasure as his mouth and hands slid over her naked flesh.
The princess began to move again, rocking her hips as the fabric that strained against him scraped her body, and Zeldris groaned. His hands squeezed her deliberately, the air becoming electric as their passion grew. The need for him was so sharp that Gelda knew nothing else but aching desire. He was moving now, too, thrusting against her dampening body, making her cry out softly. Her hands gripped him tightly as he kissed her breasts, wanting him inside of her, wanting him to make her his own. She needed this one moment, before she went to the king; she needed to have a piece of him, a memory, to take with her and give her strength.
But suddenly, Zeldris froze. He pulled his mouth away from her, leaving her panting, and she looked down at him in confusion. There was a terrible moment where his hands squeezed her tightly, and she could feel him shaking. Gelda started to say his name, but in a moment he had pushed her from his lap, scrambling up off of the bed.
She crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling foolish, embarrassment causing her cheeks to flare. Of course he would not want this, or want her; he would be practically committing treason! Gelda covered her face with her hands, trying to get a hold of her fear and her emotions. There was a pit in her stomach as the humiliation twisted with the desire that still pulsed inside of her.
"Gelda," he said sharply, "get dressed. Now."
The princess choked on a sob, squeezing her eyes closed, trying not to let him see; but then she felt his hand on her arm, pulling her up. "Didn't you hear me? Get dressed!" Gelda looked up at in him in surprise, and pulled back when she saw panic, his jaw set in a grimace. "There's something coming. We need to go."
"What?" Zeldris did not answer, but pulled her to stand, snatching up the blue dress and pushing it at her. Unable to breathe, she pulled it over her head, and as soon as she was covered he grabbed her hand and yanked her behind him. The demon snatched her up in his arms and jumped to the bottom floor, and then hurried them both out the door.
Gelda blinked in the sunlight, immediately crashing into Zeldris as he pulled up short. The day still had the morning chill clinging to it, and she shivered and instinctively pressed against him. She could immediately sense how tensed he was, and cautiously she peered around him to see what had stopped them.
There was a group of a dozen demons surrounding them, each more terrifying than the last. Their bodies were covered in horns and scales, the their hands ending in sharp claws, some of them as tall as the roof of the house. The power from the demons was suddenly choking, and she gasped for air as her eyes frantically darted from one to the other, then down to the ground.
"What are you doing here?" Zeldris bit out sharply. His voice was dark, threatening, a tone she had not heard since the first day, when he had stalked into the throne room of Edinburgh.
"We've come to rescue you," said a male voice. The sound of it was almost beautiful, and Gelda glanced up to see a tall demon with a long moustache and a cape draped over his shoulders that fell to the ground. His eyes betrayed nothing as he stared at them with a bored expression.
Next to him stood a woman with wild hair and almost no clothing, her demon markings swirling around her to barely cover her body. "Rescue my ass," she said, her arms folded. "You don't look like you're in any trouble."
"You didn't answer my question," Zeldris snapped back. "I'm on a mission for the king. How dare you—"
"The king has grown concerned that your return has been so delayed," the first one said. "It wouldn't do for his future bride to be lost somewhere in Britannia." His eyes slid over her and then back to meet Zeldris' stare. "Or his youngest son, for that matter."
Gelda froze, the blood suddenly draining from her face, her breath caught in her throat. Zeldris was the king's son?
Immediately she stepped back, wanting to put space between them. Her mind rolled in a rush of confusion, barely listening as Zeldris said, "You can see we're both fine. I was taking the princess to my father today, in fact."
His father? Gelda blew out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, and Zeldris reached back to grip her wrist to steady her.
"Today my ass," the woman sneered, and the first said, "What Derrieri means, of course, is that the king had expected you back days ago. He feared that you had come to some sort of trouble."
"I'll explain the delay to the king, but not to you," Zeldris said deliberately.
The man smiled. "Of course, my prince. It is a relief to see you unharmed. And the beauty behind you, I assume she—"
"Get going, Monspeet," growled Zeldris.
The demon huffed a bit, drawing his chin up; then his hand shot out from under his cape to give a signal to the others. Gelda locked eyes with the woman, and Derrieri narrowed her own in a suspicious glare. The demons began to prepare to teleport, and Zeldris turned around, taking the princess by the arms.
"Gelda," he whispered to her, and she snapped her face up to meet his. His brows were drawn, distress etched over his face; but the princess only gazed up at him, her eyes widening at they met his, the truth pounding inside of her head.
"The prince?" she asked softly, unbelieving. "You—you're the king's son?"
He pursed his lips tightly together, his fingers digging into her for a moment. "I—I didn't mean to lie to you, I—"
"Your Highness?" the demon called behind him, and Zeldris growled in frustration. With a final look, he wrapped an arm around her, pressing his hand firmly against her back. But even as Gelda felt herself filled with the power of the magic taking them, inside she was empty.
.o0o.
Zeldris searched Gelda's face as they materialized in the demon realm, pressing the hand on her back tighter to pull her against him. He needed just a few minutes alone with her, to try to explain what he had done. But when they arrived, there were others already waiting to escort them.
He felt the princess move away, but his grip kept her against him. Unwilling to let her go just yet, he turned and said to the waiting guard, "I'll escort the princess myself."
"The king wishes to see you first," Monspeet countered, his tone making it clear there would be no argument. "I will take the princess to her room. I'm sure Her Highness would like to prepare herself to be received by the king."
"Yes, thank you," Gelda said quietly, pulling herself from his grip. Zeldris grit his teeth angrily and glared at the Commandment. "I said that I would take her."
"You remember where the throne room is, I trust," Monspeet answered, before gesturing to Gelda. "This way, Your Highness."
The princess nodded, and unsure of what to do, Zeldris simply watched her follow the demons who served as her escort. He stared after her, willing for her to turn around, to say something—just to look at him, even—but she continued behind them, not acknowledging him in any way.
Furious, Zeldris stormed off in the direction of the throne room. He did not bother to wait for permission or an introduction before pushing his way inside. With long strides he stalked towards the dais, expecting a challenge or a reprimand at any moment. The king sat in his throne, just as Zeldris had last seen him, surrounded by a group of advisors. He stood there seething, his hands clenching into fists as the anger from being taken from Gelda, from being fetched like a wayward child. The demon was certain everyone in the room could feel the malice boiling hotly from him, and expected an immediate rebuke from the king; but instead the king said almost cordially, "Zeldris! There you are. You had me worried."
"I was out on your errand," he nearly snarled, fighting to keep control of his temper. "How dare you send those two—"
"You were due back days ago," the king interrupted sharply. "I thought I could trust you with this simple task, but obviously I was wrong."
Taking several deep breaths, Zeldris ground out, "My powers were depleted when I fought Izraf. I needed a few days to gather my strength back."
The king snorted. "None of my Commandments would have had such a hard time. Any one of them would have returned within the hour with my prize." Zeldris felt a sharp pang of fury through his temple as his father waved his hand in dismissal. "I suppose it doesn't matter much anyway. You are dismissed for now. I'll let Meliodas handle your punishment for making me wait."
He glared at the king, his mouth twisting as he tried to think of a response. But his father had already turned his attention away, gripping the arms of his throne. "Where is my bride? I want to see the girl."
There was murmured conversation around the room, and frustrated, Zeldris turned to the side to leave. But he only got a few steps when an announcement was made for the vampire princess. Everyone stopped talking, eager to see the king's new mate, and he stopped in his tracks.
Zeldris told himself to go. The way she had looked at him told him everything he needed to know about her reaction to the truth. There was no reason to stay; he could only wait to speak to her later, privately. Yet he was unable to help himself, and he turned to look over his shoulder.
Gelda entered the room, the sight of her stopping his breathing for a moment. Her hair was pulled back into an intricate twist, and Zeldris remembered how he had woven his hands through the blonde locks, pulling apart the braid, the damp waves sliding through his fingers. She wore an elegant dress in a deep rose color, which brought out the slight blush of her cheeks; his mind wandered to the way her skin had flushed as he kissed her, the way she glowed when he stroked her body.
She walked with her hands clasped in front of her, her back straight, her head high and proud. The way a princess, a queen, would walk. Could this be the spoiled, insufferable princess he had taken from Edinburgh? The somber girl resigned to her fate of being sold to a powerful, dangerous king? The woman who had looked at him with soft eyes and thanked him for keeping her safe, who kissed him and wrapped her arms around him and lit a fire inside him that he didn't know was possible?
All eyes were on the princess as she approached, including Zeldris', and the king's. When she neared the dais, she stopped, her eyes demurely to the floor. Gelda then curtsied low, her head bowing in respect; but Zeldris could see the way her neck was strained, and the way her chest rose and fell with her deep breathing.
"Your Highness," the king said. "How wonderful to finally see you myself."
Gelda kept her eyes to the floor as she responded, "Thank you, Your Grace."
"Stand up." The princess rose on his command, and Zeldris turned, his body tense, his hand unknowingly moving towards his sword.
"I hope you found your journey from Edinburgh pleasant enough," the king said.
"Yes, Your Grace," she answered, her eyes still on the floor.
Zeldris clenched his jaw as he watched. This was so unlike the Gelda he knew, his mind was spinning a bit. He had been afraid she would say something the king would not like; but she was the epitome of grace and poise, and the demon found his own nerves calmed.
"And my son?" the king went on. "He conducted himself well, I hope? Zeldris is not often the most gracious of companions, I'm afraid."
The people in the hall tittered a bit at the king's words, but Gelda looked over her shoulder at him. Their eyes met, and Zeldris felt a pang in his chest at the indifference in her eyes. She looked at him with a cool disinterest, something he had never seen before. He would have accepted her scorn, or even her hate; her apathy felt like a blow. "He was an adequate escort," she said as she looked straight at him.
He did not hear what else the king had to say because of the pounding of the blood in his veins, or over the searing in his heart from her words. Their eyes held for another moment, then another; then Gelda turned away, her eyes sweeping sadly back to the floor as she returned her attention to the king. To his father. To her future husband. Unable to stand another moment, Zeldris finally turned and fled the room.
