A/N Originally published on 5 February. Happy Birthday Zeldris! I hope you get the happy ending you deserve.
The sun was bright, almost too bright, the burning glare of the rays forcing him to squint. How long had he been standing here, on this hill, watching the glowing orb as it peaked above the horizon? He signed, breathing in the cool, grassy air as the sky's pinks and purples lightened then faded to blue. He had been here hours at the least, and Zeldris pressed his lips together, his insides heavy like lead as he steeled himself for the task ahead.
You will eliminate the vampires. I want every trace of them removed from this earth.
His father's words still rung in his ears, along with the pounding of blood as he fought his body for control. He had been frightened, petrified, a feeling he had only recently become acquainted with. Such trivialities had not troubled him for most of his life: his existence was training, working, fighting, killing, occasionally sleeping and eating when he could trudge on no more, duty overriding every other sensation. Then he had met her and everything had changed. Now he had a reason to fear, and the wretched emotion constantly tore at his insides.
And never more so than now. As he looked over the yellowing hills, dotted with heather and bracken, towards the golden stone edifice of Edinburgh Castle, he wondered how exactly he was going to do it. Could he really kill Gelda? See her lifeless and limp, slain by his hand and with his own sword? His hand gripped the hilt of the weapon experimentally, the handle feeling comforting to the touch. Would he even be able to hold it again if he used it to hurt the one he loved?
Still, it had to be done. He could hardly refuse a direct order from the king of the demons. He had waited all night to execute the plan; no point attacking the vampires when their power was in bloom. But now the sun had risen he could put it off no longer. With a flash of resolve, Zeldris summoned his darkness. Wings poured from his back, casting a long shadow across the ground as he sprang on the balls of his feet and leapt into the air. The wind whipped at his clothes and hair, strands flying into his face as he sped towards the vampire's stronghold.
It was while in the air that the idea came to him. Eliminate the vampires, the king had said. Not kill, not destroy or torture or mutilate. His mind worked in a frenzy as his breathing grew ragged and his brain worked in a frenzy on the idea that had started to form. He could seal them all, lock Gelda and her family beneath Britannia's surface, keep her safe from any possible harm. He could always revive her when the dust had settled. He knew he could do it: the spell was simple enough, one taught to him and his brother by their respective tutors. He had even practiced it a couple of times as he committed the words of the incantation to memory. It was both feasible and safe; as a plan it did not seem to have any downfall.
Except who knew how long it would be until he saw her again. He could almost smell her perfume, the faint scent of roses, almost taste the rich honey of her lips as they covered his own. His heart ached, the pain seeping through his chest as he tried to imagine life without her, without their secret meetings he now relied on to get by. The prospect was unpleasant, and he wondered just now he would cope without her gentle voice, and the understanding and wisdom of her mind.
They were waiting for him.
Zeldris cursed under his breath as he swooped down towards them, the shapes of the vampire royal family becoming increasingly familiar as he drew closer. The tall, bulky frame of the vampire king, his wiry black beard sticking out like an oversized brush, came into view, along with the smaller forms of Ren and Orlondi, strands of dark and pale hair blowing in the breeze. A little apart stood the woman he was searching for, her head held high, her grace and poise evident even from this distance. His hearts seized in his chest, stuttering uncomfortably, the ache of his impending loss settling under his skin.
Touching down on the ground, Zeldris pulled his wings back into his form and stepped reluctantly towards the vampire king. The flash of concern that crossed Izraf's features should have brought him some sort of pleasure, but all he felt was an overwhelming sadness. He dared not look at Gelda, not until the spell was activated: if he saw her face he would be undone.
If you get the chance, don't make my mistake, okay?
With a start, Zeldris looked around, his eyes meeting Gelda's in an instant. As always, her beauty took his breath away: her eyes of amethyst, the spun gold of her hair, the way her flawless skin glowed softly in the sunlight. He loved her, desperately, his need for her tearing at his insides. She was everything, the night and the day, his very reason for drawing breath. As he looked at her, seeing the sorrow in her eyes, the kindness of her forgiving smile, he knew in that moment that he could not let her go.
Mind made up, he called, "Your Majesty," as his eyes snapped to the vampire king, "I believe you know why I am here. You have betrayed your alliance with my brethren. You have been sentenced to death for your crimes."
Izraf laughed, his voice booming over hills. "You think a little shrimp like you will be able to harm me! You..."
"I advise you to hold your tongue until I have finished," Zeldris said coldly as he unleashed his power. Bolts of Hellblaze flew from his body, the scent of charcoal filling the air in an instant as the tendrils wrapped tight round the vampire king. He drew his sword, covering it in purple flames, coiling his darkness to compress Izraf until he was fighting for breath. He saw fear, the whites of his opponent's eyes widening as he continued to squeeze.
"You can relax, I am not going to kill you," Zeldris said with a sigh as he suddenly pulled his darkness back and away. "But if you remain here then another from my clan will end you. I advise you to throw yourselves on the mercy of Stigma. Joining the alliance will give you protection."
A huff sounded and Zeldris grit his teeth, forcing himself to face Orlondi, the younger vampire snickering at Izraf's side. "Why should we trust you?" he asked, eyes narrowed and fangs bared. "He's lying," the boy hissed, a smile curving his lips.
"Then stay here, it makes no difference to me. In fact, I could not care less." Zeldris took his time to examine each of the vampires, his glower daring them to issue some sort of challenge. But there was none. The clan seemed to wilt, even Izraf's face working with evident fear. "Remain in Edinburgh if that is your desire. Your deaths will not in any way trouble my conscience. I will take my leave of you now. Gelda, will you come with me?" This last he said softly, his voice almost pleading and he held his breath as he finally let himself look at her.
"Of course. You only ever had to ask." Every muscle in his body relaxed as Gelda stepped towards him, her face radiant with delight as she inclined her head. It was all he could do not to run into her arms, to hold her so close he could feel her heart beat against his. But he needed to maintain his authority, so he forced himself to take a more sedate pace until there was just a final step between them.
"Wait!" Izraf called as Zeldris summoned his wings. The breeze had turned to a blustery gale and he could feel himself being buffeted by the wind. "You can't do this!" the vampire king yelled with something of his habitual manner. "Gelda, you are my daughter. You will not leave with this… filth. I forbid it!"
"Father." Gelda's voice, soft and musical, cut off Zeldris's angry retort. "I want to go and you cannot stop me. This is my choice. Our choice," she added as she took Zeldris's hand, her smooth skin warm and comforting to his touch. "Let's go," she murmured and, without further pause, Zeldris looped his arms under her shoulders, carefully holding her to him as he soared into the air.
"Go to Stigma," Gelda yelled over the sudden rush of air as they turned to head towards the north. "Save yourselves before it is too late." Zeldris thought about contradicting her, of yelling some sort of insult, but he merely pressed his cheek into Gelda's hair, breathing in the aroma of fragrant roses. He did not turn to spare her family a glance, his eyes fixed on the horizon as he carried her away.
"This is a problem." The voice was almost warm, a hint of amusement in the slight tremor of tone. Chandler pressed a hand to the ground, running his fingers over the rough, dry dirt. Meliodas crouched down on his haunches, also examining the rubble and dust. It had taken them hours to get here, to locate the faint trace of Zeldris's power, and the result of their search made him want to smile.
"He has sealed his power here," Meliodas stated, working to keep his words flat and expressionless, facts not emotions as Chandler often advised. "No doubt he is many miles away. This has the feel of a decoy to me. What do you think, Cusack," he asked as he looked up at the demon.
Zeldris's tutor, or former tutor, stood a few paces away, his back ramrod straight and his face like thunder. "I don't know what has gotten into him," he muttered, and Meliodas saw Cusack's hand stray to the hilt of his sword. "This is very out of character. I can only surmise that the slut of a vampire has seduced him. Her title is, The Thousand Temptations."
"So you say, so you say," Chandler mused as he straightened his frame, leaning on his staff to help him stand. "I do not doubt that it is a possibility. But you must concede, Napping, that this does not look good for the boy. If he can be bewitched by a female what use is he to our cause?"
"You will address His Highness with respect," Cusack replied, his eyes narrowed to slits. "His Majesty's orders were to fetch Prince Zeldris and to bring him home. You are not to speak as if he has been outcast."
Meliodas also rose, dusting off his clothing then stretching his arms to rest them behind the back of his head. "This argument is pointless," he said, just about managing to keep the smirk off his face. "We need to rethink the plan. We're not going to be able to find Zeldris, not without his power. He could be anywhere."
To emphasise the point, Meliodas gazed pointedly at their surroundings, taking in the dense cluster of oaks, ash and sycamore, a sea of leaf green and dappled sunlight. The forest was vast, and filled with life, the rustling of squirrels and pine marten in the musty earth just audible over the chattering chaffinches. "If I know my brother, he's not even in northern Britannia. To locate him, we would have to search every inch of this land."
"A task I am more than fitted for." Cusack's eyes were ablaze with determination, his face taking on a slightly maniacal look. "I will find my charge even if it takes every waking moment of my life. I will…"
"You will return with me to the demon realm." Meliodas stood, his eyes hard as he met Cusack's glare, all too aware of the other's hostility. "With The Executioner gone, we are now at a disadvantage. Our enemies will certainly make use of this. You will do your duty and join the fight. And that is a direct order," he added with menace as Cusack's power burst through the air like flame. Several animals scattered, crows cawing as they flew, smaller birds following in their wake.
Chandler slowly stroked his beard, his brows pulled together in apparent thought. "The young master has a point, Napping," he said almost casually. "The goddess clan will most certainly strike. Your power and expertise will be invaluable."
"You're only saying that because this puts your pupil in front," Cusack hissed, a vein pulsing in his neck.
"Maybe so," Chandler mused, his voice low but cold. "But even if the traitor returns do you think he will still be in line for the crown? Do not kid yourself, Napping. Give up this fantasy and do as you're told."
With a snarl, Cusack shot into the air. Chandler turned towards Meliodas, his face twisted in a smile, every one of his teeth gleaming in the few rays of sun that penetrated the forest canopy. "Well done, master," he said, his frame bent in a bow. "I always knew you had it in you." Before Meliodas could respond, his tutor also took his departure, his energy fading as he sped back to the demon realm.
Meliodas stood in the forest, listening to the birds who had dared to return, their song sounding cheerfully as they hunted out worms. "I am sorry Elizabeth," he murmured to the air. "I love you. More than anything. I should have run too.
"Stay away, Zeldris. Protect the woman you love," Meliodas said with a sigh, feeling the regret of his loss even more keenly as he too lifted up into the air.
Elizabeth strode out of the tent, the stiff, white canvas flapping behind her as she stomped over the grass. She was not just angry, she was furious. The meeting with four archangels, Gloxinia and Drole had been the most frustrating of her experience to date. Why her clan had to antagonise the kings - their allies - so badly, she was sure she would never really know.
"Princess Elizabeth, wait!" a voice called behind her and she stopped, her breathing coming in sharp bursts and her hands clenched tight at her sides. Her eyes drifted to the soft, verdant grass at her feet, the long strands moving slightly in the breeze. Ever since she has returned to Stigma, Meliodas having left her devastated and alone, Mael had been all over her, constantly at her side and dancing in attendance. At first it had been comforting; she did not love Mael but he was pleasant company, and a welcome reminder that she was a desirable woman. But his persistence soon grated, the way he was constantly asking how she was feeling beginning to send her into a storm of temper. It was almost as if he were aware that she was heartbroken, that every time she was alone she shed a tear. Her relationship with Meliodas had been a secret, but she could swear that Mael knew she was hurting nonetheless.
"What is it, Mael," she asked with as much warmth in her tone as she could muster, her legs itching to carry her back to her quarters. All she wanted was to be alone and to grieve, to think of Meliodas. She missed him, the loss hitting her like a tidal wave every time she was reminded of their time shared together: a snatch of song, the fragrance of cloves, or a flash of blonde hair.
"I… just wanted to see how you were." The archangel stood before her, his face full of concern. "Forgive me for saying so, my lady," he added, his head slightly bowed, "but you have hardly been yourself of late. I'm worried about you," he added sheepishly, as he looked up and tried but did not quite meet her eyes.
"I'm fine." Elizabeth waited, deciding to proffer no further details. This evidently threw Mael from his pre-prepared speech, and he shuffled his feet as his mouth opened and closed.
What she would have done next, Elizabeth was never to know, for a loud shout sounded from the edge of the forest, a fairy floating towards them with astonishing speed, her wings glittering in the bright, afternoon sun. "Lord Mael, Lady Elizabeth," she called as she drew closer, and the princess' brows raised in puzzlement as Gerheade flew quickly towards them. It was rare for the fairy king's sister to look so flustered, her habitually neat clothing slightly crumpled, and her voice a higher pitch.
"You must come," Gerheade pleaded as she looked between the two goddesses. "There are vampires! Here! Hundreds of them!"
"At once," Mael agreed, his fumbling reticence gone in an instant as he assumed the mantle of a seasoned soldier. His stance changed as he drew himself up to his full height, his head held proudly as he unfurled his wings. Without a word he followed the fairy as she rushed away, Elizabeth taking off a mere moment later. What were the vampires doing here of all places? She shook her head as she flew, trying to make sense of the development; surely the vampires would not attack them so close to noon?
When she approached the clearing at the edge of the forest, Elizabeth pulled up in astonishment. She had only once met the vampire king, finding Izraf to be overbearing and pompous. This king was cast in a very different mould, his shoulders slumped and head bowed as he stood before Ludoshel, who was looking even more smug than was usual. The archangel was smiling, his face haughty and cold as he strode purposefully towards Izraf, other members of the alliance standing silently to the side. A glance at their faces showed plainly their hostility, Gloxinia and Drole both glaring at the vampires, their arms folded tight across their chests.
"Let me see if I have understood this correctly," the archangel taunted as he appeared to examine his nails. "You, our enemies, want our protection? What makes you think we would be foolish enough to grant that?"
"I told you," Izraf growled, his voice low and hoarse, "we have decided to join your alliance. The demon clan are the aggressors in this war. Your clan are the rightful rulers of Britannia."
"This is true." Ludoshel took yet another pace forwards, pressing into the vampire king's personal space. "Still, I am surprised to hear that you have finally accepted this wisdom…" He paused, before muttering, "It is almost as if you needed sanctuary from the demons."
"How does he know," a small vampire hissed and Elizabeth looked at the trembling blonde, Orlondi the Rose if she remembered rightly. Her eyes swept over the rest of the clan, ticking off the other figures she recognised one by one. Evidently the vampires had not been attacked. There did not appear to be any missing except…
"Where's Princess Gelda?" Elizabeth asked, the question leaving her lips without thought. Ludoshel swung round towards her, his face shrouded in fury. "Elizabeth, if you could hold your tongue? It is not your place to interrupt the negotiations."
"She's eloped. With that demon," Orlondi whined, and Elizabeth stared at him, wondering just how stupid the vampire could be. It was clear from Izraf's glowering face that he had not intended to the alliance to learn this information. "The one they call The Executioner."
"So," Ludoshel said triumphantly as he turned to face Izraf. "Your daughter has run away with the youngest of the princes and the demons have determined to exterminate you. I cannot say I blame them. Your pitiful race has nothing to offer.
"But…" Ludoshel rubbed his chin dramatically and Elizabeth almost gasped, anger and pity churning her insides as the vampires visibly trembled. "I am willing to allow you to join our alliance. On two conditions."
"Which are?" Izraf prompted into the ringing silence.
"That you tell us everything you know about the demons. Everything," Ludoshel said with emphasis. "I want every last detail. No matter how trivial it seems to you. And I want your absolute and unquestioning loyalty. One wrong move from you and I will kill you where you stand."
Elizabeth watched, horror flooding her senses as Izraf nodded his head, before Ludoshel barked out a harsh laugh. As the others began to relax, some moving towards their newest members of their alliance, Elizabeth stood stock still, the familiar ache returning to her chest. "You brother is gone? What does this mean, Meliodas?" she whispered under her breath, her words swallowed by the bustle and shouts as the vampires were herded away. "Why could we not have done the same? I love you, I miss you." A tear dropped down Elizabeth's face as her grief and sorrow overwhelmed her.