*casts Resurrect on self*

I'm alive! Really sorry about the delays, finals season's always rough. On the bright side, though, I finally got that award I wanted! Worth it~

Didn't have much time I'm afraid, even with the delay, but enjoy! I hope.

EDIT: Fixed errors.

While the Sins and knights were caught up in the explanations-turned-celebrations in the Boar Hat, outside, the knight who had introduced himself as Silver stood alone on the balcony of the castle grounds as he observed the ongoing spectacle, what little the windows of it showed, arms crossed and a small smile playing at the corners of his lips as he listened to it all, the indignant yelps, the shrieking laughter, the pure, unadulterated happiness he could hear even from here, even from afar.

"They've grown up so much," he remarks, voice soft, eyes gentle. "I'm so proud of them all."

"You should be," a new voice comments. "They've grown up so much, it's actually kind of crazy."

The knight is unsurprised as he looks low to meet the intruder's gaze, that of the second Meliodas, arms crossed behind his head and his expression quite cheerful as he regarded him. He hadn't seen him coming, of course, but that wasn't surprising. He was used to this from the enigmatic man.

"Sir Meliodas," he greets, with an incline of his head that seemed almost formal, though, behind his helmet, his smile was jovial and his eyes, friendly. "It's good to see you looking well."

"Right back at you!" he says brightly. "Though, I can't say I expected to see you, of all people. Especially not back there at the festival, 'Silver'."

"And I can't say I expected to see two of you," the knight says, taking off his helmet, freeing his long silver hair and revealing his friendly smile for all the world to see. Though noticeably older and more worn, his face was near-exactly the same as that of a certain Diamond-ranked Holy Knight—though his smile was notably more carefree and his blue eyes held a levity Gilthunder's had never really had, not since this one had died all those years ago. "But here we are, Sir Meliodas."

Meliodas grins right back. "Zaratras," he says cordially. "Been a while, hasn't it?"

Zaratras holds back a laugh. "Only a little."

The silence that follows is a comfortable one, all things considered. For several minutes, the two formerly-dead men stood side-by-side, doing nothing but listen to the ongoing revelry. For Zaratras, this was not something he ever could've expected. If anyone had told him that a mere day or so after the events at Vaizel, he would be in Castle Liones, listening to the Sins and their Holy Knight allies as they drank and ate and all around celebrated the fact that, for the moment, they were all alive and, for the most part, in one piece, while standing next to a seemingly-hale Meliodas, he would've only laughed.

But here he was. And he wouldn't have traded it for anything in the world

Then, Meliodas tilts his head in the direction of the Boar Hat. "You know, Ban knows the recipe for Black Cat's Yawn fish pie," he says casually. Zaratras stiffens though Meliodas doesn't seem to take notice. "He baked a ton earlier for the reunion and they're just as good as the original."

"I doubt it," he mutters. Meliodas' little smile only broadens in response. "The Black Cat's Yawn tavern makes the best fish pies in the world."

"But it's true!" he rebuts cheerfully. "You should go and see for yourself. Little Gil's up there, you know," he adds, casually, as if he didn't know already, as if Zaratras hadn't been painfully aware of his son's presence since he'd come back from the dead. "He's probably eaten through half the pies by now! They're his favorite, just like you."

For a moment, Zaratras only smiles.

Then.

"I know they are!" he wails, loud enough to startle birds into flight, to bring myriad knights and guards scurrying into defensive positions around Castle Liones, to make the other Meliodas back at the Boar Hat blink sleepily awake before he dismissed the noise and went back to sleep once more. Zaratras was absolutely hysterical. "He used to love them so much and we used to share pies whenever I got home and it was the best part of my evenings! And now he's all grown up and—and I never even got to watch him grow and—what am I supposed to do?!"

In contrast, the Meliodas at his side seemed as unruffled as he always was. "You should go up and see him," he points out calmly. "He's missed you a lot. It would mean the world to him to see you again."

Zaratras stares. "And just how am I supposed to do that?! His dead father showing up out of the blue—he might just have a heart attack! And what if—what if..." here, he actively has to suppress a shudder, eyes wide with a horror Meliodas actively has to suppress a laugh at. "What if he doesn't even recognize me?!" he wails. "If that happens, I think I'd be the one to have a heart attack!"

Meliodas only continued to look at him, completely unphased. "... You two look near identical," he points out. "He's not stupid."

Zaratras doesn't seem to hear. "And, anyway!" he was continuing to rant. "He's always liked you best and with two of you, why in the world would he need me?!" He sags. "Why in the world would he even need me?" he whispers hollowly. "He's already all grown up. He doesn't need me anymore. Why would he?"

"Because you're his father," Meliodas answers plainly. "And he loves you. He's fought to avenge you for the last ten years." He tilts his head slightly to one side. "You owe him for that, at least. And, anyway, little Gil's my friend and all but I'm not his father," he says, to which the knight only looks away, grumbling under his breath. "Neither of me are," he continues. "And, besides, you're always going to be more important to him than I am. You were a great dad," he says, smiling encouragingly, though his eyes were far away. "Little Gil's grown up to be a great man. But he still has a lot to learn and you owe it to him to be there for him, while you're still here. You know you won't be here forever."

For a few moments, Zaratras is quiet. Then, after releasing a long, long sigh, he droops. "You've become awful sentimental since I last saw you, Sir Meliodas," he grumbles, perhaps a tad sourly, even a little accusingly, to which that Meliodas only snickers.

"It's been a long time, after all!" he says, tone irritatingly chipper. "You could say that, right now, I'm all heart."

Zaratras scoffs, though the amusement in his expression rather belied the effect. "All heart... you're still as much of an unassuming monster as ever. You know exactly where it hurts," he grouses. "And I know. You're right," he does say, if a tad begrudgingly. "I'll... see him."

By the look on his face, one might think he'd just steeled himself for an execution rather than a family reunion with his beloved son, who loved him just as much.

Meliodas can only sigh. "Geez, Zaratras..."

It is then that they hear a strum of a lute.

"You should listen to him, druid knight! After all, when it comes to relationships between fathers and sons, Meliodas is infamously incomparable."

It was that little bard who'd been paired with Howzer in the fighting festival, watching them while seated atop a window sill from a floor above them, smiling like a cat that's caught the canary. The strings on the lute on that bard's lap seemed to glow in the moonlight.

"It's rude to eavesdrop, you know," Meliodas says, to which the bard only snickered, lute-strumming somehow sounding almost sardonic. He tilts his head to one side as he considers the intruder, eyes narrowing. "I know you. Your name, it's Solatido, isn't it?" Then he smiled, shark-like. "Or is it Sariel?"

In turn, the bard's smile never wavered. "Doremifa Solatido is the name by which I was born, good sir knight," was all the bard answered, words in said trilling sing-song and accompanied with a fanciful strum of the lute. "Nothing more, nothing less~"

One corner of his lip twitched. "I see," he says noncommittally. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

There's a trill of a laugh. "Not long enough, from my perspective!" the bard remarks cheerfully, not that it did a thing to belie the disdain in the voice, the contempt in the eyes. "But here we are."

Zaratras looked lost. "Er... Sir Meliodas?"

"You might want to stay back," he whispers only barely loud enough for Zaratras to hear. Then, in his normal tone of voice: "An old comrade," without looking away from the diminutive bard. He would've sounded almost casual had he not said what he had before he did, had he not just placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, eyes narrowed into slits. "From before your time."

"Long before," the bard concurs. Not once does the bard bother to spare Zaratras a glance, hard eyes fixed solely on the Sin beside him. "Though you're not exactly Meliodas, are you?"

At this, Zaratras looks surprised, even alarmed, but the Meliodas is unruffled. "Nishishi! Actually, you could say I am exactly him."

The bard only scoffs. "Spare me your wordplay," was the blunt response. "I know exactly what you are, hollowed soul. Though I will admit, it is impressive you were able to escape to begin with."

"I had a lot of help," Meliodas replies, smiling cryptically. The bard's eyes narrow even further. "So you know, don't you?" he asks. "About what they did to us?"

"Of course I do," the bard answers swiftly. "Few of my kind are unaware of what they did to you, to the Lady Elizabeth." At Elizabeth's name, for the briefest moment, the bard's voice broke. Meliodas pays it no apparent heed, though his eyes had darkened and his jaw went tight. "And many of them believe it was exactly what you deserved."

"And you?" he asks. His eyes were harder than steel. "Do you think she deserved any of it?"

The bard looks down. "I wish she had never gotten involved with you at all." The bard's voice was bitter, for once without any melodic lilt. "Whatever you may have done, I would've never wished her to come to harm."

After a long moment, Meliodas exhales, tension leaving his stance as he let go of his grip on his sword, though his eyes were hollow. "I understand," he says quietly. "For what it's worth, if I could've taken all of their punishments, I would've."

The pain in his voice is almost palpable. Zaratras wanted to speak, to comfort him somehow. If it weren't for the bard's presence, he might've tried.

And, for the first time, however begrudging it might have been, there was now a certain respect in the bard's eyes. "... I know. Your dedication to the Lady Elizabeth is... admirable." It looked like it almost pained the bard to admit it. "And the Lady Princess Elizabeth has always been taken by you," the bard remarks. Though there was no change in expression, there was now a distaste to the sound of the strummed strings. "And I respected her wishes. Though I personally never understood how she had become so dedicated to one of your kind to begin with... much less you."

Instead of becoming offended, the words only make Meliodas laugh. "I don't either," he says honestly. "I suppose your kind thought I was brainwashing her, somehow." Now, there was something sardonic to the twist of his smile. "Which is funny. My kind thought the opposite. It was your specialty, after all. Then again, yours always were so much holier-than-we, weren't they? Nishishi!"

The bard doesn't bother to take the bait. "As if someone like Lady Elizabeth could be hoodwinked by the likes of you," was the carelessly given answer. "Understand this, hollowed soul, I don't care for you at all," the bard says bluntly. "But I know that Lady Elizabeth does. And for all your many, many faults... you care for her just as much."

"I love her," he confirms easily. He said it with all the certainty of a man saying an axiom of life, a fact more certain than his own name. The simple forthrightness of the statement from the notoriously evasive Meliodas made Zaratras blink, surprised, cheeks slightly reddening."And she loves me, too."

Finally, the strumming comes to a halt, ending on a jarringly discordant note as the bard's grip turned on the instrument tightened, knuckles turning white. "If we didn't know you did, if we didn't know she did, we would've had your head years ago."

Despite himself, Zaratras shivers at the ice in the bard's tone.

Meliodas looks unsurprised. "I know," he says, nodding. "Still, no matter what you think, my plans haven't changed. I'm still dedicated to the plan she and I made, all those years ago."

The bard begins to pluck at the strings once more. "... I wouldn't expect anything less from you."

Here, finally, Meliodas smiles and it looked genuine. "The Sins and I are going to stop the Ten Commandments," he calls out. "I don't know what you guys are planning but if you're aiming for that, too, we'd be happy to have you as our allies."

The answering laughter is a trilling, almost mocking sound.

"We already know what happens when we ally with you," the bard says scornfully. "But I suppose we'll consider it. Only for Lady Elizabeth's sake, of course."

He lets out a chuckle. "As expected," he says cheerfully. "Where will you go until then?"

The bard first looks at him consideringly before finally just shrugging. "The dwelling of the druids, wherever that is today. One would hope those silly things haven't forgotten everything in our absence, but I'm not optimistic about our chances."

Though he'd been doing his best to keep quiet since the whole conversation between the two had begun, the normally laidback Zaratras actually looked outright offended, unable to fully suppress a sound of indignation.

"You might be surprised," Meliodas answers for him, grinning. "Just look at Zaratras here!"

Here, finally, the bard looks to Zaratras, the druid Holy Knight shifting into a more professional stance under the intensity of the bard's gaze.

"... you're not bad," the bard eventually admits. "Despite your circumstances, revenant, you don't seem too dim. For a human."

Despite the fact that the bard was shorter than even Meliodas, there is something in the bard's eyes that leaves Zaratras... discomfited. "Thank you, Miss er... Solatido?"

Before the bard could speak up, Meliodas shakes his head. "His name is Sariel. He's one of the Four Archangels," he informs him, watching with some amusement as the druid's expression rapidly turned into one of awe and supplication... even if the tension never quite left his stance. "His Grace is Tornado."

The Archangel inclines the head he was occupying in a polite gesture of welcome. "Charmed, I'm sure," he says, though his voice came out toneless, disinterested enough that Zaratras looked almost put-out. It wasn't every day you met an elite member of the clan your own clan revered. Rarer still that you were outright snubbed by them.

Then, Sariel's expression changed.

"Oh, don't be like that!"

The voice was different now, cheerier and more sincere-sounding to his ears. The bard was smiling at him now, expression one of impish good humor. "I, for one, am happy to make your acquaintance! Both of you!"

While Zaratras was trying to comprehend the sudden shift in behavior, Meliodas grins back. "Nice to meet you, Solatido," he says cheerfully.

The Archangel's vessel flashes him a brief but genuine-seeming smile. "And, you, as well, demon's heart," she sings. "Mister Sariel's told me so many stories about you." She smiles. "Most of them bad."

"I'm sure," he says, nodding. Then: "I was wondering if he was keeping you locked under," he comments. "Nice to know you still have volition."

"Mister Sariel?!" The bard seemed shocked at the very thought. "Oh, no, not at all! We have a deal, after all. He's been a perfect gentleman besides." Then, she giggles. "As much as circumstances allow, at least," she says, her voice a teasing trill. "But he's not the sort to... take advantage of a girl's body like that."

"That sounds wrong, coming from someone like you," he remarks, to which the little bard giggles. "Even knowing what you're talking about."

"Mister Sariel would never do anything so unbecoming," Solatido professes, though her smile was coy. "Mister Tarmiel, either, from what he's told me." Then she tilts her head slightly to one side. "Though I do hear Mister Ludociel might!"

"Yeah, he's a jerk," he agrees. "Don't ever make any deals with him, alright?"

She laughs. "I would never betray my Mister Sariel like that," she declares. "It really was very nice to meet you, oh, heart of a demon," she says sincerely. "Mister Sariel doesn't want you to know but if you ever have need of us, he plans on re-starting Stigma again, once Mister Tarmiel finally comes to an agreement with someone appropriate. I do hope we could all work together when the time comes, your Sins and the Archangels' Stigma."

"I hope so, too," he tells her. "Good luck in Istar."

"I-I have a map!" Zaratras manages, pulling out a rough square of folded parchment and proffering it with a flourish. He was still staring and, by his expression, he still had a lot of questions but, at the very least, he'd processed enough to know that he likely wouldn't want to hear them without ale and multiple fish pies in his system. "For Istar! Let me give it to you! It's the least I can do for you, Sir Sariel."

The bard grins. "I'm Solatido," she informs him. "But Mister Sariel says 'thanks'." She swipes the map off of his hands, unfolding it with an extravagant flourish. She smiles fondly upon reading it. "Oh, Mister Sariel~ It looks like you were completely wrong about where Istar was going to be!"

Then her demeanor changed. Though the outward appearance remained the same, the expression, the posture... everything else, really, had shifted.

The one who spoke next was not Solatido, that much was clear.

"Thank you, druid," Sariel says curtly. The back of his neck had gone red, visible even given the shawl the bard wore. "I won't forget what you've done for us, today."

Four feathered wings shimmered into existence at his back.

"Remember this, Meliodas," he says, "I don't care for you or any of your kind... but it would go against Lady Elizabeth's wishes if you were to come to harm. For her sake, and not for anyone else, I will fight to ensure your continued survival. From this day forth."

Here, finally, Meliodas, the one from the future no less, is the one to blink, absolutely stunned.

"I could never do anything to disrespect to Lady Elizabeth's wishes. I know she would want this," he says, looking almost offended at his expression. "I'm sure Tarmiel feels the same."

Those wings began to flair outwards as he began to ascend.

"... just don't expect any of the others to think the same way."

And, with that, Sariel (and Solatido) disappeared, gone from view in a whisper of wind, leaving only a handful of feathers fluttering in their wake.

"... Bye," Meliodas says, perhaps belatedly.

Zaratras merely stood, stunned, by his side.

"... So, Zaratras, do you want to go back to talking about little Gil? Or would you like me to explain what just happened?"

There is a beat.

There's really only one thing Zaratras can say to that.

"Yes."

It takes him four drinks before King finally feels brave enough to go upstairs.

It's been a good few hours since they'd explaining everything and, by now, the proceedings had devolved from a meeting to an outright party, apparently just as the Captain from the future had intended. (And, wow, even with the alcohol, this whole future business was still confusing.)

For the most part, everyone who'd arrived earlier were still there, from the Holy Knights (and Hendrickson, he adds sourly) firing question after question at the future Ban, who, for the most part, was answering as well as Ban could be expected to, to Merlin apparently giving an enraptured Arthur a lecture while Gilfrost and Escanor watched, one glaring daggers, the other staring longingly, Diane trying to sample everything Ban had cooked ("Did we used eat like this everyday?" she had asked, looking delighted. "Is this normal for us as the Seven Deadly Sins?!") with Hawk providing a running commentary as she ate ("Don't eat them all!" he was still squealing. "Leave some scraps for me!"), to even Gowther doing as he always did in social gatherings: sitting in a corner and staring blankly at everyone else as they interacted. The only ones missing were the Captains and Elizabeth, the future one to talk to one of the knights outside (what was the deal with that?), and theirs because he'd apparently collapsed—though he honestly still had a hard time believing that—with Elizabeth having gone up to care for him, leaving everyone else behind.

He has questions for the future Captain, too, of course (who didn't?), but it was their Captain that he was going to talk to right now. Even with everything they'd said and explained, from the powers of the Commandments, to their identities, to how some of them had been defeated in their future, there was still something... off about it all and he wanted answers.

Now, King doesn't want to distrust him. He really doesn't. He meant what he'd said. All he really wanted was to be shown that the Captain trusted them back.

And, while in theory, he'd been given everything he wanted... there was just something off about the explanations. Certainly, he's sure they haven't once lied about the Commandments or their powers, or the capabilities of demons in general, but something about the way they'd all explained it that made him... suspicious.

He can feel it in his gut. They were hiding something. Something massive.

He really doesn't want to be suspicious, not after everything that's happened, but...

He just...

He has to know.

He finds the Captain was sitting up in bed, propped up against about half a dozen pillows, and he looked... well, awful. For all that he'd seemed as normal as could be back when he'd welcomed them earlier, now, his face was pale and beaded with sweat, and his breathing sounded shaky even from afar. Now that his shirt was off, all the bandaging on his torso was visible, and the regrowing stump he'd briefly shown was bared in all its gory detail. Beyond that, there was a hollowness to his cheeks, a weariness to the very way he was slumped against his pillows. Earlier, he'd looked fine, lack of limb aside, but now... he looked as they'd expected him to. A person who'd only barely managed to cling to life.

He hesitates by the door. Alcohol aside, liquid courage or no, he didn't think he could find it in him to ask for anything, not when the Captain looked like this.

Maybe it could wait until morning...?

As he was considering this, Elizabeth walked into view from inside the room, a basin full of washcloths held in her hand, expression fraught with worry. "Sir Meliodas, if you were feeling sick earlier, you should've said so!" he hears her saying, the Princess obviously distraught but her voice carrying an absolutely ironclad ring of conviction. "Sir Meliodas, I..."

"I know," he hears him saying. He was smiling, despite everything, and the expression was a soft one. And, suddenly, King feels almost like a voyeur. Even though technically speaking, all they were really doing was talking with each other, there was something... intimate about the moment. Private. The sheer warmth and regard in the Captain's gaze as he looked at her made King want to look away, almost flustered. "I'm going to be fine, now that you're here."

Even from here, King could see her as her cheeks turned pink.

Then

"Hey, Elizabeth...?" he hears their Captain saying, actually sounding hesitant for the first time since they'd met. "Did you... mean what you said, back there About... liking it when I—"

NOPENOPENOPENOPENOPENOPENOPENOPE

He comes hurtling out of the nearest window and into the safety of the great outside, face burning red, hands firmly fastened over Chastiefol's pillow form as he wrapped it firmly around his head, protecting him from any more.

Everything he needed to ask... it could wait until morning. Yeah. Definitely.

Unbidden, the scene replays in his head, and his cheeks burn even redder as he squeaks.

NOPENOPENOPENOPENOPENOPE

... He needs more than four drinks to deal with this.

But still, it kept replaying. The uncharacteristic hesitance in the Captain's voice as he said the words. The actual words themselves

"... liking it when I—"

NOPENOPENOPE

... he was going to have to ask Gowther about doing some memory erasure for him.

Through all the revelry that occurred that evening, through the drinks and merriment ongoing within Castle Liones, in Castle Camelot, the fully-recovered Grayroad meets the faces of each and every one of the humans they'd taken prisoner, examining them, assessing them.

As one, all of her faces smile.

As one, all of the humans scream.

It was going to be a long evening for everyone.

Sorry about all the delays. As much as I love writing this, school does have to come first, after all. Rest assured, I have zero plans on abandoning this. It's kind of my baby and I love it. Warts and everything else I'm doing my best to minimize.

(BTW, if anyone spots any errors, mention them, please. I do my best but stuff slips through...)

Anyway, as per usual, gimme two weeks. Not sure if anyone trusts me on these anymore but May 8, assuming all goes to plan.

So was this good? Bad? Okayish? Tell me! Feedback's what keeps me going and have a nice day.

EDIT: Okay, had a bit of an accident and nothing's going to plan. I'll do my best to release the next chapter as soon as possible but, eh, can't promise a specific date by this point in time.