A/N: So it's basically been a year since I updated this story. I don't know what to say. The combination of the manga ending, the pandemic starting, and my various struggles has kept me from working on this. But after receiving several nice messages from readers, and the encouragement of my friend solynacea, I managed to continue. Please look for the final chapter very soon.
WARNING: Content warning in this chapter for pregnancy and miscarriage.
A queen will always turn pain into power.
—The Minds Journal
Several inches of snow laid on the ground, an unusual but not unheard of event for late spring. Elizabeth peeked out the window of the castle to see the servants working diligently to clear away the white powder so that the carriages could arrive without difficulty. She wished that she could go out and kick around a bit in her boots, maybe entice Meliodas to come along so she could launch a snowball at him. It wouldn't take much convincing, she was sure; her new husband was just as playful as he ever was.
Little had changed about Meliodas, she had discovered in the years that passed since the curse was broken. Unlike Elizabeth, who had changed with every reincarnation, he remained a constant. The memories she still had from the other lives—and her first life—all confirmed the little things about him: he still loved spicy food, still slept with one leg sticking out of the blanket, still could not resist a fresh, crisp apple. Goldens were his favorite, the same color of his hair, and it was just one of many things Elizabeth had always known and always forgotten.
Unlike Meliodas, Elizabeth was always changing. It's the nature of humans, she had come to learn: their lives were so fleeting that they must live it at a breakneck pace. Even now she herself proved the point, her life changing rapidly in the years since they defeated the demon king. The curse had been broken, they buried their friends and allies, and after a quick wedding the work of rebuilding Britannia propelled them without preparation or ceremony into the future.
Once again she wished she could go outside. Finding time to just enjoy with Meliodas was difficult, and now that she was about to be crowned the queen of Liones, that time would grow even less. She smoothed her hands down her dress, a heavy brocade that was covered in lace and crystal, the weight of it keeping her firmly grounded. One more duty to fulfill, one more appointment to keep. Then she would rule, and Elizabeth was determined to use her position to carve out time to be more than just a queen. She had to, before things changed again, and if her instincts were right, they would be changing before long.
"Elizabeth!" His cheerful call made her turn, and when he appeared a moment later she was filled with a familiar warmth. Meliodas pulled her into a hug and planted a sweet kiss on her cheek that she turned to meet for a long moment with one of her own; he had always been quick to show affection, especially now.
Meliodas stepped back and held her hands out. "You look amazing," he said sincerely.
Elizabeth blushed. "Thank you."
"I mean it. A real knockout." He grinned up at her, making her heart skip. "Your father would have been very proud."
"Thank you," she whispered again, smiling when he brushed her cheek.
The ceremony was simple, but elegant. Elizabeth had memorized her role well, reciting her pledges to be queen and to rule with mercy and kindness to bring peace and prosperity to the people. Her people now, she thought as she smiled down at the adoring crowd. So many souls were now in her care, and if it wasn't for Meliodas' reassuring grip on her hand, she almost assuredly might have crumpled under the pressure.
Almost.
Elizabeth retired to her anteroom for a brief time before the celebratory banquet, needing some quiet to breathe for a moment. After reassuring Meliodas she was fine, just wanting a brief rest, she left him to oversee the festivities and went to their suite. She walked through the room and sank with a sigh in the overstuffed chair to the left of the fireplace, her favorite spot to relax, and laid back to close her eyes.
All of Britannia had been there, save a few. The giants and fairies attended, as did Zeldris and Gelda to represent Edinburgh, which they were looking to rebuild. Elizabeth made a quick mental note to schedule time with them next week to offer logistical support. There were the Holy Knights, still led by Howzer, and her sisters, both flanked by their knights. She smiled to herself to think of how far they had all come from children playing in the castle halls. Other nations were represented as well: a delegation from Marakia, with whom ties had been repaired with the new leadership after Hendrickson; the druids of Istar, offering prayers for the new queen; largest of all, King Arthur and his knights of Camelot, attending with a full coterie and lavish gifts for their friends.
A knock sounded sharply against the door. Elizabeth sighed to herself, sitting up and calling for entrance. A queen must be seen, her mother had said long ago, one of many strange wisdoms she had insisted on imparting to her daughter. Elizabeth frowned to herself, wondering why she thought of that now, ultimately writing it off to the day itself.
Expecting Meliodas or one of the servants, or even one of her sisters, Elizabeth was surprised to see Arthur step into the room. "Your Majesty," he said as he shut the door, giving a little bow, and with a laugh she stood and walked towards him with her hands outstretched.
"We don't have to work with such formality, do we?" she laughed.
Arthur returned her grin and took her hands, giving each a kiss. "I had hoped not. May I impose?"
"You're never an imposition." She gestured to the chairs and they took their seats, opposite one another. "Are you enjoying the day?" she asked.
"Very much," Arthur answered eagerly. Truly, he seemed to be unable to exist in any state but eagerness. "My own coronation was nowhere near as grand. Of course, Camelot was a much smaller kingdom then, and I had not the many friends that Liones now has."
Elizabeth smiled warmly. "Well, now Camelot can boast both of those. Despite the devastation of the war, your kingdom has rallied admirably. It is a blessing to see it prosper so quickly. Camelot is the jewel of Britannia."
"That's part of why I'm here, actually," he replied. Arthur shifted so he could lean forward, pressing his elbows to his knees. "Your Grace, may I speak plainly?"
"Only if you call me Elizabeth."
"Yes, of course." Arthur seemed nervous suddenly, and she waited patiently as he rubbed his palms on his thighs. "Camelot is pleased to be a friend of Liones, you know that. And I consider you and Meliodas to be more than friends: you are family, as well as the other Sins."
"That's very kind of you," said Elizabeth.
Arthur nodded. "Which is why I must beseech you on behalf of one of your siblings. Lady Merlin—"
"Do not say that name in my presence," Elizabeth hissed, cutting him off abruptly. "She is no family of mine."
The king lifted his chin slightly, an unconscious sign of authority, which did not go unnoticed on the queen. "I know what you said to her the day of Escanor's funeral," Arthur replied intently. "And deep down, I can understand your disappointment and your anger. But this banishment is cruel, Elizabeth."
"Cruel?" she laughed. "Did she tell you all? How her actions led to my curse, how she continued to work against me, conspire against me, her queen? How she would call me sister all while plotting my death, plotting to take my—"
"She did none of those things," Arthur interrupted sharply. "She was a child. A child with a terrible burden who had lost all that was dear to her." His expression turned pleading, and he leaned forward, once more reaching out his hands to take hers. "You lost your home when you were just a babe. Then your mother, the queen, when little more than a toddler. Surely you can understand the pain of losing family, and how it can wreak havoc on a child?"
Elizabeth stared at him for a long moment, realizing he did not know the truth about Danafor, or Queen Caroline's death. "It is because of those tragedies that I despise Merlin," she answered. Arthur's eyes widened as she narrowed her own. "I endured just as much heartache, and yet I never purposefully caused misery for others. Merlin made her choices and now she must live with the consequences."
She looked away, her eyes falling to the hearth. Only embers burned among the logs, no one to tend it as the servants were all attending the festivities. Her room would be chilly tonight with the snow seeping into the stone of the castle. She made another mental note to fetch someone to make sure the rooms were properly warmed before that evening.
"Elizabeth…" Arthur's voice sounded pained, and the tone caught her attention from the fireplace. "I am… It is so unlike you to be so cold. I had thought you would be forgiving."
"I am forgiving," she answered, returning his gaze with a stern one of her own. "I am a fair and just queen. I care for all of my subjects, even those who deserve to be punished."
"Punished!" The king jumped to his feet with a cry of surprise. "I know you were hurt, but this isn't the way. Merlin has spent years in exile, alone and grieving. Surely you can show her some kindness? Whatever she did as a child, she more than made up for in her service to Camelot and Liones."
Elizabeth remained seated, folding her hands in her lap. "Kindness is reserved for those who deserve it."
"And you're to judge?" he argued. "Who are you to say who can and can't be forgiven?"
"I am the queen." Her tone was cold and sharp as steel; Arthur recoiled slightly, and Elizabeth relished it. "My mother was a god. She ruled for eons, and her wisdom allowed Britannia to flourish. As the queen's daughter, it is now my task to use that wisdom to rule."
"Was it that wisdom that cursed you and Meliodas for three thousand years?"
His angry words pierced sharper than a knife. Elizabeth pushed to stand, her magic burning hot along her skin. "Do not speak of what you do not understand, human."
Arthur blinked for a moment before shaking his head. "You've changed. You're not the friend I thought you were."
"I am your friend, Arthur," Elizabeth replied warmly. "The best friend you've ever had. And you'll want to keep my friendship if you wish to continue ruling Camelot."
"Is that a threat?" he gasped.
Elizabeth shook her head. "Of course not. A war between our kingdoms would bring more destruction, and I am so very tired of death, Arthur. I want peace. I want life, and happiness, and to see my people comforted." She stepped forward, taking his hands again, and looked up at him with pleading eyes. "Merlin is a threat to all of that. What she did to me, she could do to you. She could strike against any of us at any time, and with her magic she would be nearly impossible to stop."
"Merlin would not—"
"She would, Arthur, don't you see?" Elizabeth hung her head, a tear slipping from her cheek. "She manipulated the two most powerful beings in history. She led all of the races in a march of war that took centuries to finish. She nearly killed you, don't you remember?" She gazed up at him with a sad smile. "If Merlin would strike at Camelot, Liones would rally to your side at once, no matter how many losses we would suffer. Could you say the same, if it was the other way around?"
Arthur swallowed uncomfortably. "If Liones were threatened, we would come to your aid."
She grinned. "Good. Then let us do our part now, and keep the threat from our borders."
"I still don't agree that Merlin is a threat."
Elizabeth sighed. "That's because you are so new to this world. Had you lived as long as I, you would see things the way I do." She gave his hands another squeeze before letting go. "I've allowed you to remain as king because I thought you were an ally," Elizabeth said. "If I thought Camelot would be a threat, then I would not hesitate to act."
"I can't allow you to threaten Camelot!" Arthur cried.
But there was a waver in his voice, and Elizabeth knew the seeds were planted. Now to simply allow them to bloom. "I never wish harm on Camelot," she replied gently. "But if the man ruling it would put his subjects so willingly in harm's way, I could not allow that." She paused a moment to let her sentiment sink in before continuing, "Sometimes those we love do the wrong thing, and as much as we care for them, as I cared for Merlin, as you care for her, we must do what is best for the common good. It is our fate as rulers to cast aside our own hearts for the sake of others. I love my family, Arthur. Liones is part of that family. Will you be a part of it too?"
Elizabeth felt nothing but calm as the room grew quiet, and when Arthur took his leave, she felt a soothing happiness. She was doing the right thing, and with that certainty came a sweet relief.
She caught sight of herself in the mirror as she prepared to return to the others. On her head, for the first time, was the crown of Liones. Elizabeth stared at herself for a long time, her eyes tracing the outline of gold and ruby and diamond. The crown was just as heavy as her dress, but Elizabeth did not mind. Slowly she drew closer to the mirror, her smile growing as she took in her reflection. "Today I am a queen," she said, her breath fogging up the glass. Remembering how she must have someone grow the fire in her room, Elizabeth turned and set off to find a servant.
It was past midnight before Elizabeth stood in her washroom, looking at herself in the mirror again. Her dress had been replaced by a long nightgown and her pinned updo was now untangled, her hair falling over her shoulders. She still wore the crown on her head, taking a few last minutes to admire the way that it looked. It would return to its new home the next day as she assumed her full authority over Liones, but Elizabeth longed to hold onto this moment a while longer.
She had aged little since the curse had been broken. Her sisters no longer looked like girls, but women in their full adulthood; Margaret even worried over a few hairs that had turned from her soft lavender to gray. But Elizabeth's power had kept her in the bloom of youth, and as her eyes dragged down her reflection, she was grateful.
Her gaze fell on her midsection, and Elizabeth pressed a palm to her stomach. Another change on the horizon, making her heart beat a little faster. She tilted her head, imagining her daughter, another monarch born of power untold. Would she have her silver hair, or the glowing yellow of the queen? Elizabeth stroked her abdomen, hoping for the latter, knowing that no matter what, she would be beautiful.
Her thoughts were interrupted as Meliodas entered, moving behind her to wrap his arms around her waist. Elizabeth stiffened slightly, her eyes sharply trained on where his forearms pressed against her body, the tattoo on his bicep visible when she folded her own arms. "Can I help you?" she asked sourly.
"Just looking for my wife." His hands stroked where hers were moments before, then moved upwards to graze her breasts. "But I think I found a queen instead."
Elizabeth gave a huff, moving away from his touch. She glanced over her shoulder to see him grinning from his game. Normally she wouldn't mind, finding his silliness charming, his affection sweet, his jokes drawing laughter. But today she was not in the mood. "A queen indeed," she replied, removing the crown and placing it on the velvet-lined box on her vanity table.
"Are you tired?" he asked.
"A bit," she shrugged. "It was a very long day."
Her fingers traced along the jewels of the crown. "Before I forget," Meliodas asked behind her, "did you see Arthur today?"
Elizabeth turned slightly. "I'm sure I did. He was there, wasn't he?"
"Yes, he was, but I don't recall seeing him at the banquet, or after." Meliodas shrugged. "I just found it strange, the kid is always up for having a good time."
At that she laughed. "Perhaps you were having too good a time," she teased.
Meliodas gave her a look that meant nothing but sin, and Elizabeth felt a shiver as he walked towards her. "Want to have an even better time?" he asked, then with his hands on her hips he pressed her back against the vanity, pressing his mouth over hers.
Elizabeth sighed as she returned the kiss, her hands on his shoulders. His fingers squeezed the fabric of her nightgown before beginning to draw it up, the hem dragging along her legs. She leaned back to settle against the wood, Meliodas inching forward to move between her thighs. He pulled away to catch his breath, just for a moment, and then with a flash in his eyes he kissed her again, deeply and passionately and the way he always had, since the beginning, as Meliodas never changed.
He rocked against her, drawing a gasp, and the items on the vanity rattled with the movement. Something hit her hand, and she turned her face to see what it was as his lips dragged down her throat. It was her crown, and Elizabeth reached out to grab it before it fell when Meliodas rocked again, harder this time.
Several bottles upended as his mouth now reached the swell of her breast and his hands tugged on her gown. The jerky movement shook the table again, and before she could grab it, the velvet-lined box tipped, sending her crown to the floor. She gave a little cry as it rolled away, stopping on the carpet, the lamplight in the washroom now reflecting patterns on the ceiling from the jewels, the sight causing a sharp pain in her stomach.
"Elizabeth," Meliodas groaned, tilting his face up to hers in search of another kiss.
But Elizabeth could only stare at the crown, his hands and mouth on her forgotten. She pressed on his shoulders, trying to push him back, but his focus was solely on her nightgown, trapped between her body and the edge. With another yank and a tearing sound he managed to pull it free, and with a groan he pushed it up to her stomach, exposing her body to his gaze.
"Meliodas," she panted, pushing again. Her crown was on the floor, the symbol of her royalty, on the fucking floor of the washroom! Her insides twisted with revulsion. Elizabeth winced, her fingers digging into flesh to get away. She needed her crown, now. "Meliodas, my crown! You have to—"
She pounded her fist on his shoulder, but when she looked at him, she realized he had already stopped. Meliodas was staring at her body with a deep frown, and the look on his face was serious enough to give her pause. "Elizabeth," he said with concern. "Did you start your monthly time?"
"My what?" She looked down to see pale thighs covered in dark red. "No, I—"
"You're bleeding." He looked up to search her face. "Elizabeth?"
She pushed him back, and Meliodas released his grip on her gown, taking several steps back. "No, I didn't, I'm—"
The first cramp hit her hard, and unused to pain, Elizabeth fell to the ground. The next made her cry out, then another, and another, and Elizabeth curled in agony on the floor as a sickening sensation slid along her body. Meliodas was calling her name, his hands on her arms and her face, but she pushed him away as she rolled to her side, anxious for relief. Why wasn't her body healing itself?
A monarch born of power untold, she thought. Whose power?
Elizabeth screamed as Meliodas called for help, and she reached out, trying to grab for him, trying to hold onto something that would help, when her fingers closed around the cool metal of the crown.
There was a soft knock on the door, and for a moment Elizabeth wondered if Arthur had come back to apologize. Instead, she was surprised to see Jenna walk in, closing the door quietly behind her.
Elizabeth struggled to sit up on the pillows, but Jenna lifted her hand. "Please, Your Grace, lay still. How are you feeling?"
She shook her head. "Why are you here?"
"Meliodas thought I might be able to help." Jenna sat on the side of the bed gently. "Your healing magic did nothing?"
Shaking her head, Elizabeth looked away. "I feel fine now."
"I understand. Can I try to help?"
She studied Jenna for a moment before nodding. The druid hovered her hands over Elizabeth's abdomen, closing her eyes. There was a tingling sensation as her magic flowed through her, and Elizabeth's body relaxed with the welcome goddess magic. "Thank you," she murmured.
"You'll be alright, I think," Jenna murmured moments later. "There was no damage." She pulled the blanket up to cover the queen's waist, and lifted her eyes to her face. "Do you know why?"
Elizabeth had her suspicions, but shook her head instead. Jenna sighed. "I suppose we'll learn more eventually. It could have been just one of those things."
"Thank you."
Jenna took a deep breath, but did not respond. "What is it?" Elizabeth asked.
"You are queen now," Jenna murmured. "I don't want to speak out of turn."
"Please," Elizabeth replied. She reached out and pressed her hand to Jenna's arm. "We are the last of our clan, you and I and your sister. We must look out for one another."
"And Mael," Jenna said. "He is still here."
She decided she did not have the strength to argue, so Elizabeth asked, "What do you have to tell me?"
"Do you remember how power for the goddesses manifests, Your Grace?" Jenna asked.
Elizabeth thought for a moment. "Our power comes from the elements. From the sun and the earth and the sky. Unlike the demons, who take from below, we are graced by Britannia."
The druid hesitated before saying, "Do you remember the archangels? How they were given their graces?"
"They were gifted by the queen," Elizabeth frowned.
"Yes, but…"
"My patience grows thin," Elizabeth hissed sharply. "Say what you came to say."
Jenna leveled her gaze with the queen. "It's through loss," she said. "The goddess clan gifts power through loss. Each archangel had to give up what they loved. The death of our warriors passed greater magic to those who survived. There are only stories as to what the Supreme Deity had to sacrifice to gain her power, as great as it was. The rumors used to say she had many generations slaughtered, that—"
"Stop." Elizabeth closed her eyes for a moment. "What are you saying? That the goddesses reveled in destruction?"
"No," Jenna said. "It is our fate. The loss of my family allowed Zaneri and I the power to become druids. Killing only made the archangels stronger. The demons grow strong by eating souls and taking the sacrifice of others. Goddesses become strong through our own sacrifice."
The truth began to click in place, and Elizabeth looked down, pressing a hand to her stomach. "Your loss…" Jenna's words faded out as she focused herself, feeling the steady thrum of her power under her skin.
What did her mother give up to become a god? Elizabeth had never questioned it before. She flexed her hand, and the strength inside reacted. Elizabeth's heart beat faster as she felt her power build. Her daughter was dead, but now she was queen. What did the Supreme Deity sacrifice?
Jenna took her leave, and Elizabeth was left alone. Carefully she stood and walked to the washroom to splash a bit of water on her face. There was no pain, thanks to Jenna's healing, but her legs were weak, forcing her to lean on the counter.
After wetting her face, Elizabeth looked at herself in the mirror. Reaching for the crown that once more laid on the velvet box, she placed it on her head and lifted her chin with a smile.