A/N: If you're one of my American readers, let's celebrate that the end of the election is finally upon us! No more being glued to news broadcasts every day. I actually live in PA, so I have been VERY stressed waiting for all those votes to be counted. I almost took a job at the post office a few months ago where they were asking me to work 12 hour shifts six days a week. I can only imagine how much worse it would have gotten during this time. Very glad I ended up with the job I have now that allows me to work from home and get LOTS of writing done.

To my reviewers:

Guest: I can't tell you how much it means to me to have someone looking forward to one of my updates each week. I feel so blessed to think this story is in your thoughts!

Guest: Whoever you are, my fellow P&P fan, you need to make an account so we can chat through messages! I so much enjoy your kind words each week.

SerenityDeath: Thanks for your review! Glad you're sticking with me.

Thanks to everyone for keeping us all in a loop about the weird update issue with chapter 8! You're such a lovely community of people. Also, I have no idea why that whole thing happened. Glad it seems to be fixed now.

Elizabeth found herself very distracted the next morning.

The first reason being that after she and the other girls had set out the breakfast spread, not a single member of the Ten Commandments showed up to eat. They'd gone out on a mission without sending word.

A sporadic one, if the goddess had to venture a guess. Meliodas probably wouldn't have stayed up so late talking to her if he'd known about it.

It was a relatively odd situation, so she let herself worry over it a little bit. As a unit, the girls had gotten good at eavesdropping. But if there was no one around to overhear, they had no way of knowing what was happening in the castle. In the world.

Once they cleared the plates and trays away, and Elizabeth began the arduous task of washing dishes, her mind strayed to worser places.

The way Meliodas had been looking at her.

She'd attributed it to the fire at the time. The odd lighting that danced across his face. But in her memory it looked different. Intentional. Unabashed.

For someone who'd kept his cards close to his chest for so long, he was letting her see everything now. And she didn't know how to feel about that.

Her hand slipped. The plate clattered to the bottom of the sink, thankfully not breaking. She winced at the noise, noting the stares of the other girls, muttering an apology mostly to herself.

"That's it." Caelia suddenly said, hip-checking her out of the way. "You're fired."

Elizabeth blinked in surprise. "I didn't know you were on lunch today."

"I switched." Caelia said with a grin. "I felt like I hadn't seen you in days."

Elizabeth smiled back at her. "That's true."

Caelia seemed a bit pale. Elizabeth knew better than to ask why. Even if the girl were on death's door, she'd insist that everything was coming up roses.

Caelia took over the dishes, leaving Elizabeth to dry her hands and rest for a moment.

"I also wanted to ask you," Caelia said. "Where it is you've been sneaking off to?"

Elizabeth looked at her a long moment.

"It's not to be with Zeldris, right?" Caelia asked at length.

"No." The goddess said shortly. "But since you mention him…we may have a new problem to confront."

They kept their voices low, speaking in only hushed tones. Elizabeth revealed nothing about where the information had come from, merely relayed it as neutrally as possible.

"That's…not great news." Caelia decided. "Who is it?"

"I don't know." Elizabeth said with a sigh. "I don't even…do you know which of the girls he's taken to bed?"

"I know of two." Caelia said at length. "But we'd really have no way of knowing whom he favors."

Elizabeth gave an exasperated sigh. She could think of nothing worse than pulling all six girls aside and interrogating them on something they most likely tried to forget about.

She had no choice but to rely on Meliodas.

She stole over to the request board, jotting down a quick note and stowing it in her apron until the time was right. She could only hope his party would be back by lunch.

"You're not into anything dangerous are you?" Caelia asked, watching it all through a suspicious eye.

Elizabeth shrugged. "Not really."

"Who's the note for?"

"A contact."

Caelia was staring at her with intelligent eyes. "It's the angry one, isn't it? The one you asked me about once?"

Elizabeth pursed her lips, loathe to divulge information.

"We've struck up a sort of…acquaintanceship." She offered quietly.

Caelia blinked. "So he's a spy."

"No," Elizabeth shook her head. "No, he's…"

Lost.

She sighed a little. "I'm not sure. He's confusing."

"Confusing?" Caelia looked at her with growing incredulity.

Elizabeth was beginning to feel defensive. "He passes me information sometimes. That's all."

Caelia looked her over. "And what does he ask for in return?"

A beat passed.

"Nothing." Elizabeth declared.

"Not yet." Caelia said. "Look, Jessabelle. You're a strong girl. And you're smart. But that demon seems terrifying. I really don't think you should be messing around with him."

"I'm not." Elizabeth insisted. "It's just what I've said it is."

Caelia looked at her a long time. Finally she turned back to the sink, filing the last dish away and flicking excess water from her hands.

"It's none of my business." She declared. "But when someone describes a person as confusing, it is because they think of them far more intimately than they should."

Elizabeth gave her a guarded, even gaze.

"Just be careful." Caelia told her very seriously. "A demon who wears a mask of good intention is still a demon underneath."

The same could be said for a goddess.

It had been an ambush. Very cleverly laid out. Expertly executed.

Meliodas was in a foul disposition as he led the Ten Commandments back into the castle. All of them were bloodied and beaten. But they were still alive, all 10 of them, and Meliodas was trying to take solace in that.

He wanted to be alone after the exhausting day. But he was starving, so he followed his fellow soldiers down to the dining hall.

He knew exactly what the conversation would involve. But expecting it didn't make it any more pleasant.

Demands for more direct attacks on the goddesses. Revenge. Spilling as much blood as possible.

He ate his fill, contributing little, pleased when, at length, the discussion turned less hostile.

He moved around the table to reach for his hidden apple.

There was a note underneath it.

He gave a furtive glance around the room, reading it quickly and inconspicuously.

No information from here

He folded the note away, glad she'd written it. With everything that had gone on today, he'd completely forgotten her request.

He seated himself next to Zeldris, who looked nothing short of exhausted. Meliodas prepared himself to get an earful.

"I think you're right." Zeldris said, shocking his older brother to the very core.

"About what?" Meliodas asked cautiously.

"They're trying to escalate." Zeldris said in contemplation. "They couldn't possibly have thought that ambush would pose a real threat, or do anything more than annoy us. They're trying to force us to behave more rashly toward them."

This was perhaps the warmest Meliodas had ever felt toward his brother.

"I'm glad you agree." He said. "However, you'll need to talk the others into that point of view. Carefully."

Zeldris gave him a long, harrowing look. "That's supposed to be your job."

Meliodas gave a noncommittal shrug as he crunched into his apple.

Zeldris looked annoyed, but ultimately decided not to argue as he continued to pick at his food.

Meliodas feigned casualness, well aware that he wasn't even remotely attempting a convincing segue into the next topic of conversation. "You never told me who your intended is to be."

Zeldris screwed up his face at the word.

"Is she here now?" Meliodas inquired further. He'd seen two or three girls enter and exit the dining room, neither of whom he recognized.

Zeldris rolled his eyes and looked away.

That was a no then. Melidoas made a mental note. But he was beginning to grow increasingly curious about his brother's secrecy on the matter. Zeldris, who bragged loudly to anyone and everyone about his many sexual exploits, was protecting someone.

Unless it was for a less noble reason?

Meliodas longed to press him further, but he didn't dare. So instead he got up to take his plate to the kitchen.

A familiar silver-haired girl was rearranging the contents of a cabinet. They made eye contact, but kept it brief, pretending they were nothing more than strangers.

Meliodas walked to the request board, jotting down a quick note and taking it with him.

"Excuse me," He said, boldly leaning over Elizabeth to open the cabinet that contained his favorite apples. At the same time he reached for one, he subtly slipped the note into her apron pocket.

When he backed away, not looking at her, the moment was already forgotten by the other occupants of the kitchen.

"You're sure we can trust his information?" Caelia asked for the third time.

She and Elizabeth sat in the hallway outside the girls' dorm, speaking in whispers due to the late hour.

Elizabeth looked down at the note in her hands.

Not working now.

"What would he possibly gain from lying?" She asked wisely.

"I don't know." Caelia sighed. "I just don't like…I don't like the idea of relying on someone else for help. It's been us since we got here. Just the nine of us."

Sorrow flitted through her gaze. "Eight of us."

"And one of us is in danger." Elizabeth murmured back. "We're protecting our own, okay? It doesn't matter where the information comes from."

Caelia rested her head on the wall. She looked exhausted, like she hadn't slept in many days. Her hair was stringy, her cheeks flushed.

Wordlessly Elizabeth got up, leaving her friend for a moment to get a few things from the dorm.

She closed the door quietly behind her when she returned to the hall.

"Thanks." Caelia said, gratefulness showing through her fatigue as Elizabeth set a bucket, towel, and cup of water in front of her.

Elizabeth smoothed some of the girl's hair back. "Are you okay?"

Caelia waved a dismissive hand. "What's that supposed to mean? Are you telling me I look bad?"

Elizabeth smiled fondly at her. "I would never say that to you."

"Oh so you're thinking it, then?"

Elizabeth laughed.

After a moment, Caelia repositioned the bucket between her knees, tossing the other girl a careful look.

"If you're going to do your sneaking away thing," She suggested. "This is probably a good time."

Elizabeth didn't respond to that.

"I'm going to be here all night." Caelia said. "So if anyone comes and goes…well, that should tell us what we want to know, right?"

When Elizabeth continued to sit, chewing her lip uncertainly, Caelia nudged her with her foot.

"Come on." She urged. "Whether I trust him or not, you're right that we need the information. No use in both of us sitting here."

"Okay." The goddess finally agreed. "Are you sure you're feeling-"

"I'm fine." Caelia insisted. "I'm just about the last person you should be worrying about here."

That was so woefully untrue that it made Elizabeth realize something important. Caelia was the first real friend she'd had in a long time. A very long time.

And she was a girl who would face untold complications the longer she stayed at this castle.

It was as though a clock had suddenly materialized at the front of the goddess's thoughts. There was a timeline in place now. A deadline.

For escape.

Normally she would've thought to check the roof for him. But tonight she found herself being drawn to the kitchen.

He sat at the dining room table, a full glass of something alcoholic in front of him.

He was waiting for her. She wasn't sure why she knew that. She wasn't sure why she'd even sought him out tonight.

He had her necklace untucked from his shirt. His mind was so far away that he didn't notice her at all, merely twirled the chain idly as his thoughts drifted.

"Rub the pendant between your fingers." She advised him. "It's a charm."

He looked up, noting her arrival.

"Goddess magic." He muttered, dropping the necklace back to his chest.

"It's not magic." She insisted. "It's a charm. You run your fingers over it and say these words."

She told them to him, the language of the goddesses sounding horribly forbidden in this place.

When he repeated them, slowly, asking for corrections, the air seemed to get even more ominous. She wondered if a demon had ever spoken her tongue.

Finally he reached for the necklace, holding the pendant between his fingers and muttering the chant she'd told him.

He gave no outward sign of change on his face, but she did notice his shoulders droop a little as they lost tension.

She still wasn't happy he'd stolen her trinket, but she was pleased to see it put to use. The words, loosely translated, meant something along the lines of "calm me now, for I am lost." She'd bought it many, many years ago, from a peddler in Britannia who specialized in magic items.

That was only a few days before the war started. The peddler had been one of a few dozen victims when his town was decimated by the first goddess and demon battle.

Her eyes had wandered away with the memory, but now she returned them to the demon's face. He was staring into the dark corner of the dining room, his fingers absently twirling the pendant between them. He'd have to be careful not to make it a habit- it had certainly been a hard one for her to break once she'd arrived here.

He glanced back at her, ready to ask something.

And she audibly gasped. Because on his face, which was the same as it always had been, there was now a distinctive lack of a black crest. His eyes, once a dull onyx, were now a shade of green that reminded her of the rolling hills on a sunny day in Britannia.

He tilted his head at her expression, apparently having no idea why she looked the way she did.

"How-" she finally managed to get out. "How do you feel?"

"Better." He admitted. "I think this might even work better than booze."

She twisted her hands together, uncertain of whether or not she should bring up the day's events.

"About what happened today-" she started timidly.

The change was instantaneous. His mouth hardened into a firm line, his eyes dulling back to black and the crest reappearing like it had never left.

This was his normal face. And yet, she'd realized something: this was not his normal face. This was a face that saw battle and death on a regular basis. This was someone ready to fight.

The man she'd just seen, the one with the green eyes, was closest to a personality he'd been trying to beat down for a while. It was a personality he fell back on when he was unconsciously thinking, when he didn't have to threaten or command or kill.

Because it was how he was at rest.

"Your people are trying to escalate." He said, the words sour on his lips.

It was an unwelcome awakening from her musings. "My people?"

"Yes." He snapped. "Your race is unrelenting."

"And I suppose the obstinacy of the demon race has no part in any of this?" She challenged.

"Who started the war, goddess?"

She folded her arms. "The demons."

"To us," He said, moving his untouched glass away. "It was the goddesses."

"It hardly matters now." She said, her voce low. "The only thing history is ever interested in is the winner."

"Then you recognize one of our people will have to lose in order for all this to be over?" He asked, lying his palms flat on the table.

She regarded him a moment, leaning against the table with her arms still folded. "You care not whether you win or lose."

Annoyance crossed his features.

"You told me once that I only loved my family because I was supposed to." She said. "You show loyalty to yours for the same reason."

The annoyance had progressed to something worse. His crest lost its straight-edged lines for half a second before he regained his composure.

"What you want," She continued, well aware that she probably should have stopped by now. "Is for all of it to simply be over."

"I don't know how many times we need to go over this, goddess, but you don't know me. We're not friends."

"I'm beginning to think I'm the only who does know you." She argued back. "You don't let anyone else see. That's why you kept me here. That's why you can't push me away. That's why I-"

"What?" He asked, suddenly on his feet in front of her and looking very, very put out. "That's why you're special?"

The word wasn't what she would have chosen, but she couldn't help but find it interesting that he had.

She stepped closer, until the tips of their shoes were touching. When her hands slipped up the fabric of his shirt to rest on his shoulders, she didn't recognize herself.

This wasn't a strategic gathering of game pieces- this was something else entirely, something…new.

"Am I?" She asked, staring into his eyes and hoping, willing for something to change.

The black on his face wavered. His hands moved mechanically, like they were operating without his consent, until he was slipping his fingers over her hips. Slowly, impossibly, his eyes shifted back to the green color she'd seen earlier, like her presence alone was draining the marks and the anger with it.

He was looking at her guardedly, like he was expecting this all to be part of some greater ploy. She wished it were. But no, this was just a strange meeting in an empty kitchen between two people who couldn't possibly have had less or more in common.

This was fate.

She tilted her head up, and he was already there, their lips meeting with a rightness that made her feel like sighing in relief. This was where she was supposed to be- perhaps where her path had always been leading her. Because she knew it now for certain.

She'd always wanted to defect from the goddess race. But she'd never had the courage to accept the thought. Getting captured, coming here, had showed her what she needed to do. She wouldn't fade. She would fight, just like she always had. But this time she would do it to create peace and equality.

With him.

Because she knew his path like she knew her own. She'd seen the struggle in him, the desire to do something worthwhile. He was still delicate, unsure. It would take time and effort to win him to her side. But it was possible.

He gave a small groan against her lips, pulling back to rest his forehead against hers. They stood in that embrace for a moment, lost in time.

"You're planning something, goddess, and using me."

She took his hands, threading her fingers through his.

"No," she promised.

"You want me to help you escape." He guessed next.

"I wouldn't ask you for that."

"You need something from me."

"No." She said once more.

"Then why-"

"Because it is right." She said, and leaned forward to kiss him again, this time just for a short moment.

She would never get used to the speed at which he moved.

His hands were gripping her face, drawing her closer, deepening the kiss. And then he was bullying her backward, knocking the remaining air from her lungs as she hit the table with a groan.

He gripped her hips again, effortlessly lifting her until she sat on the table. He stepped forward, moving between her thighs with the ease of someone who knew what they wanted for the first time in far too long.

She gripped his shirt, too winded to properly return the kiss for the few seconds it took her to get acclimated. She was almost uncomfortably warm, her lower stomach internally pressured with need as he pulled himself flush against her.

Finally she slid her hands up to his neck, tugging him down, deepening the kiss until their breaths grew feverish.

Suddenly he broke away, drawing in large amounts of air as she looked at him through very confused, very hazy eyes.

"Hmm." Was all he said as he looked at her, perhaps really looked at her, for the first time since this moment had begun. He pulled his hands back, then his person, leaving her to help herself off the table.

They stood like that for a moment, sizing each other up like they'd both suddenly recalled they were actually opponents in an increasingly complex game.

Wordlessly they turned their backs. She rinsed out his glass, and he put the alcohol back in its hiding spot. And then they left the kitchen, parting ways in the corridor to go to their respective rooms.

After a few steps she glanced back, unable to help herself. Whether he'd sensed her or it was coincidence she didn't know, but after a moment he looked back, too.

And his eyes were still green.

A/N: You guys ready to hear something WILD? This was one of the first scenes ever written for this story! Back before I'd decided I was going to make this into a full story, I had one document comprised of some scenes I'd written. Only about three made it into the actual story, and obviously there were also a ton of scenes I ended up either not using or rewriting. That's why it completely baffles me that the kiss scene underwent basically no revisions. That's super rare.

Anyway, keep writing and reading, friends!