A/N: To my reviewers:

Guest: Confident Elizabeth is EVERYTHING. I can't tell you how annoyed I get reading stories on this site where they make Elizabeth a timid crybaby. There's so much more to her character. Glad your'e enjoying the story so far!

It was an unseasonably hot day. Meliodas wiped a bit of sweat from his brow, glaring up at the scorching sun.

"Almost done!" Frederick yelled up at him, aiming his hammer to carefully drive the nail into its correct location.

Meliodas had been correct- any swing he took with a hammer, not matter how lightly he tapped, ended up splintering boards into fragmented pieces.

They'd begun a system- Meliodas sat on the roof, easily moving the heavy, unruly boards into place, while Frederick methodically hammered them into place. In one afternoon they'd managed to repair the exterior of the house back to its former glory. The inside would need a great deal more work, but at least the couple would no longer have to worry about rain ruining their possessions.

When late afternoon struck, Frederick decided it was time for them to throw in the towel. Meliodas was glad to get out of the sun, but still found himself surprised at how easily he was invited into their house.

Frederick went to change. Meliodas took his usual seat in the kitchen, watching Azalea as she bustled about doing this and that.

The youngest of the family was lying on the floor, doodling with a piece of charcoal on an oversized paper. Meliodas had achieved a certain level of trust with the parents, but the idea that they calmly let him sit in the same room as their son seemed like a very bad idea to him. At least, he would have thought so, had he been in their shoes.

The little squirt seemed to be unbothered by his house's state of disrepair. Then again, his parents were optimists, so it was possible that attitude had been passed along.

The boy suddenly climbed to his feet, approaching the table and slapping his drawing in front of the demon.

Meliodas glanced with mild interest at the sketch in front of him. "What is this?"

"It's you." The kid said, like this should have been obvious.

The demon frowned down at the drawing, noticing his horribly disproportionate body and the exaggerated black eyes that stared back at him.

"You don't ever smile." The boy said, puffing his chest out like he was about to make an important proclamation. "So I painted one on for you!"

Meliodas squinted at the drawing, trying and failing to not be insulted by the representation. His fictional characterization was, in fact, sporting a huge grin.

"What am I supposed to smile about?" He eventually snapped. "My family is locked in an endless war. What are you smiling about, anyway? Your village was almost decimated by a battle. What if it were to happen again?"

The boy teetered for a moment, rocking back and forth on his heels as he considered the question. "Well, if it did, and I died this time...at least I'd have spent some time smiling while I could."

That blew the demon's mind wide open.

"All right, Zeke." Azalea said, tying her coat around her figure as she entered the kitchen. "Are you ready?"

Zeke jumped up from the floor, leaving his papers where they were.

"All right, boys. Behave." Azalea said, wagging a finger at them. Frederick fired something inconsequential back at her, and then they were gone, leaving Meliodas and Frederick alone.

"Well," The man said, folding his arms across his chest. "I'd say we earned something a little stronger than tea today, haven't we?"

He produced a jug of ale and poured two mugs before Melidoas could say much. The blonde demon was still staring at the picture, the caricature of himself with a cartoon smile.

"It was the village elder's idea." Frederick said, his voice soft as he set a mug in front of Meliodas and slid into an open chair at the table. "Bring all the kids together, let them romp and play to their hearts' content. Many of them haven't left their houses since the attack. And even worse…well, some of them lost a lot more than their houses."

Meliodas tried to focus on the positive of children's laughter and freedom to run and play, rather than the horrible truth that a war that wanted nothing to do with the humans had caused many of them to lose their families.

There was something the demon had been thinking about often since he'd met this couple. And today, it seemed like he'd finally found the perfect time to ask.

"Demons," Meliodas started, catching the man's attention as he wiped a bit of ale from his upper lip. "We don't mate for life. Not like you humans do, anyway. Why do you...why would you choose to only bed one woman for the purpose of a contract?"

The man bellowed a loud laugh. "Meliodas-san, you're always so direct."

He gathered his thoughts, gesturing for the demon to sample his mug. Meliodas raised it to his lips, finding the taste bitter and odd. He'd had beer before today, of course, but he'd never been much for human-made drinks.

"Marriage is special for humans." The man said calmly, with the patience of someone who was eager to share a traditional custom. "When you feel you've found the right person, you vow to stay by each other's sides through thick and thin. No matter what."

Meliodas tilted his head. "Why, though? Don't you get tired of them? What if you want to sleep with someone else?"

The man's face grew more serious. "Marriage is a commitment. If both parties agree to spend their lives together, they need to set aside personal wants and desires and pursue what works for both of them in tandem. It's a partnership."

"So…" Meliodas struggled to understand. "It's a business arrangement, after all."

Frederick set his mug on the table, giving the demon an eyeful. "The man who made this drink was a successful carpenter. He had enormous skill with his hands, enough talent to fuel at least six men. But one day he decided it wasn't enough to spend his life earning a comfortable living. He wouldn't die without at least attempting to pursue his true passion. So he tried his hand at brewing beer. The village said he was crazy. Even his family said it. But after months and months of working on a secret formula, he found the perfect balance. And he took his concoction to nearby villages to try selling it. That man is now two towns over, rich as a king and selling bottles and bottles of ale with his name on the label."

Meliodas raised his eyebrows, uncertain at the nature of the story.

"When Azalea and I met, her family hated me. She was already struggling to reconcile with them after…after everything with her father. She stuck up for me, despite my poor status, and my two left hands. To this day, I still don't know why she chose me over them. But she's the only good thing to ever walk into my life and stay there. And now, because I met her, I have a son, someone who I know will grow into a successful begin. Someone who will leave his mark on the world. He is my legacy."

Frederick rapped his knuckles on the table. "Marriage is just a formality, really. A way for our son to legally inherit everything if or when we die. But even as a formality, there's something deeply special about hearing others speak your names in tandem. Or hearing your shared last name."

Meliodas rested his head in his hand. "I never would have taken you for a romantic, Frederick."

The older man smirked just a little bit. "I'm not. I just know what a blessed life I lead."

The demon tried another sip of ale, finding a new experience in it now that he understood the passion that had gone into creating the formula. Were all brews like this? Giant whiskey he understood, if only because it got him drunk. But beer seemed to be more of an art form, a way for curious humans to try and express themselves through the cultivation and patience of their trade.

He wouldn't mind looking into this more. He was learning more and more about human culture from this uncommonly kind couple.

He thought of the goddess in his employ, of the time on the roof when he'd brought up marriage to her. She'd seemed to know more than him, though not nearly enough to pass for a human.

The little his people knew about hers was downright embarrassing. He wondered if it was the same going the other way. Marriage was a human concept, but he had no idea if the goddesses also chose to mate for life. Did they have ceremonies? Did they choose their partners?

If only he could ask her. But he wouldn't dare, not when so much as breathing the word goddess could get someone killed.

Meliodas arrived back at the castle just in time for true night to set. It was always dark in the demon realm, but a lifetime in the place had given him a good sense of different levels of dim the realm could achieve.

He crept in the servants' entrance, planning to sneak up to his room unnoticed. He'd missed a meeting this afternoon, one of little importance that honestly didn't require his presence at all. But his brother would no doubt be sour about his absence, and Meliodas was hoping to avoid him all together.

"I don't know what I'm going to do if he keeps ditching." Zeldris complained, somehow managing to sound haughty in the process.

Meliodas plastered himself to the wall, quelling any magic energy that might have given away his location. Zeldris was close, probably about to stroll through the very halfway Meliodas hid in. The elder brother tried his best to stay invisible.

"He's just going through a phase." Fraudrin was saying, an unusual choice for a defender of Meliodas. "He's been in the war longer than the rest of us, remember. I imagine it's grown tiresome."

Had Meliodas stepped sideways into another dimension? He wrinkled his nose in distaste as the two men passed by him.

"Tiresome." Zeldris said with a sigh. "Like all of us don't have that problem."

The two of them walked with that burden for a moment.

Maybe that was why Zeldris had been acting out more and more with his attacks lately- not only was he bored, he was at his wits' end. Meliodas couldn't exactly blame him, though he was still far from approving of Zeldris's foolish methods.

"-last night?" Fraudrin was asking.

"Of all of them, she's definitely my favorite." Zeldris bragged loudly. "Although I'd still like a taste of that other one- the one with the silver hair."

Meliodas's blood ran cold.

"He called dibs, but he's not doing shit about it." Zeldris complained. "So she's just…waiting there. Like some kind of forbidden fruit."

Fraudrin replied with something Meliodas couldn't quite make out.

"If he doesn't do it soon, I'm taking her." Zeldris decided right then and there. "She was definitely the ripest apple from that batch, and she deserves to be taken by someone with skill."

That remark made Meliodas scowl into the darkness. Whatever familiarity he'd managed to conjure for his bother earlier fizzled out like an evaporating puddle of water.

Like Zeldris knew how to please a woman. Meliodas had never had the misfortune of being a fly on the wall for one of his brother's sexual encounters, but he had it on pretty good authority that Zeldris cared about himself first, and everyone else second. The idea that he would have paid attention to a woman enough to give her what she wanted was laughable.

"Rest up for a bit, Fraudrin." Zeldris said. "Take a nap or something. I'll make the rounds, tell the others we're leaving soon. Maybe if we're lucky, my brother will show his face again. His presence would certainly make our mission go faster."

Shit. A night mission. It had been a while since they'd had one.

Meliodas could think on his feet when he needed to. And as he waited for the demons' footsteps to recede down the hall, he thought of an absolutely foolproof way to solve both of the problems that overheard conversation had just presented.

Deftly glancing in the direction his brother had gone, Meliodas carefully plodded down the other staircase, toward the servants' quarters.

Elizabeth sat at the window, twirling her necklace between her fingers. She often dragged her bedroll over here to look at the stars. The demon realm was dark, always dark, but at true night there a sort of dim glow to everything, an ambiance that made it easy to imagine something better.

It seemed to her that the sound of the door opening and the hand on her arm happened at precisely the same time. And they nearly had- he'd moved faster than sound.

His hand clamped over her mouth, but there was really no need. She felt no fear, only surprise at his presence.

"Come with me." He urged, yanking her to her feet and pulling her behind him while she carefully avoided tripping over the other sleeping girls.

She didn't bother to ask him where they were going, merely followed in confusion as he led her down the hall.

His hand was on hers. She stared down at his tanned skin where it met her pale complexion. This moment was reminiscent of one of her early days here, yet so much had happened since then.

Soon they reached the second floor of the castle and he pushed open a wooden door with two lit sconces on either side of it.

Whatever she'd been expecting his room to look like, it wasn't this.

For as a poor a state of disrepair as the rest of the castle existed in, his room was remarkably well-kept. The rug had no holes, the paint on the walls wasn't chipped, and the decorations inside were dusted or new. There was a cheerful fire burning, plush armchairs with books strewn across them, and a lavish four-poster bed that was practically large enough to sleep five people.

Apprehension began to course through her. Why would she be here, other than the reason she was thinking of? The same reason Zeldris had left her alone even as he preyed on the other girls?

"Get on the bed." Meliodas said, in what wasn't a demanding nor seductive tone at all. In fact, it sounded downright panicked.

She hesitated a moment, but ultimately did as she was told, hopping up to sit on the edge of the mattress so that her feet dangled off.

He pulled his shirt over his head, and her eyes latched onto his figure before she could stop them. He was muscular, and very much so. She'd noticed it before, of course, especially when he was standing next to his brother, but normally she saw them both with clothes on. There was nothing to abate her curiosity as he turned to toss his shirt away, and suddenly she was looking at the planes of his back. Men had so many interesting lines and peaks on their backs, so many dips and crevices to explore. As he tossed the shirt, the muscles seemed to shift, only slightly, and she found herself following the length of his arm.

He turned back to her, and she pretended to be wholly interested in the bedpost. He was beside the foot of the bed in a flash, suddenly so close to her that she found herself reeling back in alarm.

He leveled a hand to her collarbone, tapping her with one finger. It felt like the equivalent of getting a full-force shove, and she went down, letting out a soft whoosh of air as she found her eyes suddenly trained on the ceiling.

His left hand slid under her lower back, lifting her easily and sliding her closer to the head of the bed.

He came with her, climbing onto his hands and knees as he slid his hands to the bottom of her nightdress and crumpled it to her waist.

She should have felt an increase of fear. Instead, it seemed to be rushing out of her like a wave of relief, because she'd finally gotten a good look at his face, which was curdled with distaste.

An odd, nonsensical juxtaposition to his actions.

"What are you doing?" She asked, in what was probably the most casual, idiotic question that had ever been asked in a situation like this.

He gave her a look that suggested she was particularly stupid as he tapped his fingers to her bare knees. His eyes slid to the closed door of his room, his muscles tense with apprehension.

He glanced back at her, his eyebrows raising with urgency.

Hesitantly, she drew her legs back until her knees pointed at the ceiling. The she moved them apart, bit by bit, until finally he bullied his way between them and stayed there.

He leveled his hands by her head, apparently not noticing the fact that her eyes were stuck on his muscled chest. He was very close to her. She could feel the heat coming off of him like it was the sun itself, and the idea of him resting between her legs like he was had her lower stomach clenching in a way she was trying very pointedly to ignore.

Why wasn't she scared? Why didn't she care that without breaking a sweat, he could hold her down and have his way? He probably could have done it with one hand tied behind his back.

She knew he wouldn't. That thought surprised her greatly as it came to the front of her mind. She wasn't sure why she knew, but she did. She didn't suspect- she knew.

He was still looking toward the door. But he glanced down at her now, maybe to check up on her, and his brow furrowed at the same time his eyes glinted with something strange. Her silver hair was spread out all around her, her cheeks awash with a rosy color that had nothing to do with determination this time. He wouldn't have been a man if his thoughts didn't stray from where they should have been, if he didn't realize that Zeldris was correct in saying her beauty was something to marvel at, and she was somehow on his bed now, half-dressed.

But his eyebrows went up for another reason, as well. Because there was something distinctly lacking in her gaze, something that should have been taking over her features, if for no other reason than the fact that the hard muscles of his body were pressing atop her much softer ones.

He cocked his head to the side, letting his bangs cover his eyes. "Do you trust me?"

It was a tone filled with rampant disbelief, because he already knew the answer to his own question.

She opened her mouth to reply, but suddenly she heard what he'd been waiting for all along- footsteps in the hall.

He leaned his head down, hovering his lips over the hollow of her throat. She tried to draw back, but she had nowhere to go. So instead she found herself pressing back into the mattress, floundering wildly as his lower body seemed to share its warmth with hers.

"Good." He breathed, his word falling onto her collarbone like a leaf to the grass. "Because you should."

And with that, his hand was at her neck, ripping the necklace from her throat and stuffing it under his pillow, all without lifting his gaze from hers.

Her eyes went wide. She was so stupid- she'd forgotten to tuck the pendant away with all the excitement. And there was no way he hadn't seen the sigil-

Wait. There was no way he hadn't seen the sigil. The goddess emblem.

And he hadn't looked even the slightest bit surprised.

The door suddenly burst open without so much as a knock.

Meliodas, now very much looking the role of both big brother and frightening demon, gave the dark-haired demon a glare that could have withered a plant to dust.

Zeldris had the nerve to grin as he looked at the scene in front of him. "Ten minutes, brother. We won't wait all night."

With that he shut the door. Meliodas stayed on top of her until the footsteps retreated fully. Then he pulled back, retreating off the end of the bed with a speed that had Elizabeth momentarily mourning the loss of his increasingly familiar warmth.

He bounced onto his feet, dropping to find his shirt and taking his sweet time to pull it over his head.

"Sorry about that." He murmured. "Zeldris has been increasingly threatening to hunt outside his territory."

Elizabeth sat up, waiting until his arms were through the sleeves of shirt, until her nightdress was beyond her thighs, before she dug her hand under his pillow.

There was nothing there.

"Give it back." She ordered, tossing the thick of her hair back behind her shoulders.

He turned to face her, the necklace dangling from his mouth as he smoothed down the collar of his shirt. "No."

She hopped off the bed, determined to take what was hers by force, but a moment later he was close again, so close that she was taking an involuntary step back to try and put some distance between them.

"You should've thrown this out the moment you got here, goddess." He told her, removing the chain from his mouth and dangling it between them. "This has cause to be the nail in your coffin."

She gave him a long, even glance. He was acting like he had all the power, but he'd misinterpreted something crucial. He knew who she was, yes. She was still reeling a bit from the revelation, thought the shock had worn off somewhat by now.

But that also meant that he knew who she was.

"How long have you known about me?" She asked, folding her arms across her chest in a pathetic attempt at modesty.

"I felt your magic the day you walked in here." He murmured. "You weren't as clever as you thought you were."

There it was- an even better confession than she'd hoped for. He wanted her to be scared, to beg, to show him he had the upper hand. Instead she stepped closer, almost imperceptibly, shifting the balance of power.

"And why have you never told anyone?" She asked, tilting her chin up to him.

She'd mesmerized him. Only for a second, but it had still worked. His eyes had flown to her lips, his face frozen in a moment of mental strain.

She folded this card away for later use.

"I need to go." He said, backing away a moment later and heading for the door. "You can stay the night in here, if you wish. I probably won't be back until morning."

"Wait," She pleaded, nearly tripping in her haste to catch up to him. "My necklace."

"It's safer for you if you don't have it." He said, shocking the life out of her by suddenly closing the clasp and pulling it over his own head. It disappeared under his shirt without a trace.

He ignored her gaping like it wasn't happening at all.

"Goddess crafting." He said, his nose twitching. "Never thought I'd get so close to it."

"Then give it back-"

But he was already gone. She sank onto the edge of the bed again, feeling a bit faint.

A/N: Every author's note up to this point was written at the same time. Now I find myself having to come up with something on the spot, and I have nothing. Did anybody ever read my Percy Jackson story like a million years ago? Is the world that small? Totally abandoned. Hilarious to go back and read the bad writing now. Such a nice community of people I had reading that, though! I have hundreds and hundreds of pages written for that story. Never gave up on it over the last decade. Just kept it to myself.

What a great author's note this was. Had nothing to do with anything. Thanks for sticking with me through this story, everyone!