Chapter 2: The Boar Hat
At last, hello, you've opened your eyes
But, why won't you even look me in the eyes, what's wrong with you?
You angrily tell me that I'm late
Well, I'm sorry, but I did my best and running at my fastest pace
My heart overtook my body as it flew to find you in this place
Having no idea what to do to get ready, Elizabeth began arranging things behind the bar, staring curiously at all the different types of glassware, reading labels on the bottles, digging into the cabinets to find different fruits, toothpicks, napkins, more bottles, and jars of things she couldn't identify. She pulled everything out and laid it on the counter, then packed it all back inside. The last was a basket of lemons, so after a brief hunt she found a cutting board and a knife and began making slow, careful slices, as she had seen in some of the drinks passed around at the banquet the night before.
After a while the tall man returned, looking at her funnily. "I thought you chopped lemons yesterday?" he asked, peering at the pile of slices she had.
"We ran out," she answered easily.
"Huh." Elizabeth smiled at him and wiped her hands carefully on the apron tied around her waist. "Well, I'm out of onion, so I'm gonna run down to the village and—"
"The village!" she cried. "Can I come?" She hurried to hang up the apron and toss the knife in the little sink behind the bar as her companion frowned.
"Uh, yeah, sure. If you're that excited about it."
Elizabeth gave a little clap of her hands, earning another strange look. Together they headed out and down the path. She looked around in amazement, marveling again at how vivid everything was; she could feel the little breeze and the sun on her face, hear the sound of the leaves in the trees rustling, and it was all she could do to keep from skipping along.
The village was even better. People milled about, heading in all directions, and Elizabeth was assaulted by sights and sounds around her: the ring of the blacksmith's iron, the smell of dozens of kitchens, calls of women and men and children, wagons hurrying by. She wandered between the buildings in amazement, smiling at being able to walk among the same people she could only observe from her carriage or out the window of the castle.
"Hurry up," her friend called, and quickly she jogged up as he disappeared into the general store.
Her mouth hung open again at the amount of everything inside: racks of food, supplies, bags, crates, all labeled with fruit or sugar or grains or coffee. She followed him to the counter and was greeted by the clerk. "Meliodas! Ban! Glad to see you both. What can I do for you?"
"Two sacks of onions," her companion replied, and Elizabeth watched with some interest as the transaction was completed. Ban, his name is Ban, she repeated to herself, wanting to remember. My name is Meliodas.
When the clerk returned, both looked expectantly at her. "What?" she asked, feeling the familiar heat on her cheeks.
"Gonna pay the man?" Ban huffed.
"Pay!" she exclaimed. Quickly she fished into her pocket, finding coins in the bottom. Elizabeth pulled them out and held her hand out, opening her fingers and palm facing up.
Ban's eyebrows slowly rose, and then with a snort picked out two of the coins and handed them to the equally puzzled clerk. "Thanks," he said, and then ushered her out of the store.
"What's the matter with you?" Ban asked when they reached the street. "You're acting funny like you did the other day. What's going on?"
"Nothing," she murmured in reply, her eyes going wide as they caught sight of a store across the road. He shouted behind her as she hurried up, and Elizabeth pressed her hands on the window, peering inside. Her reflection was that of the blonde young man, but that was pushed aside as she saw people inside, sitting at tables.
"Is this a cafe?" she asked, turning to look up at Ban when he approached. "Can we go in? Is the rest of the money okay here?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Yeah I guess? Since when do you like this stuff?"
Without an answer Elizabeth hurried inside, sitting happily at an empty table. Ban joined her a minute later, slumping into a chair opposite and loading the onions on the remaining chair. "You're buying," he announced as he folded his arms.
The waitress approached with menus, and Elizabeth eagerly scanned the selections. "What should I get?" she asked.
"A doctor," Ban muttered.
A half hour later, Elizabeth was sighing into her second cup of coffee and starting in on her third custard. "Is there anything else?" the waitress asked with an incredulous look on her face.
"How much more can I get?" Elizabeth asked, holding out her hand filled with the coins. The waitress gasped, and Ban reached out and snatched up the coins. "I think you've had enough," he warned, and dropped three copper-colored ones in the waitress' hands. "That's all."
Shaking her head, the waitress left, and Ban stood. "Okay, enough of this. We need to get back and finish setting up."
"But my coffee," she complained, but stood anyway when he hauled her up by the arm, following him out and back through the village.
When they reached the tavern, Elizabeth noted the sign hanging outside of the door. It was metal with the silhouette of a pig, and the words Boar Hat carved above it. She giggled to herself when she saw something so silly, but the laughter was cut short when they walked inside.
A tall, beautiful woman stood leaning on the counter, frowning down at the lemons that she had left on the counter. Her golden eyes looked up at them as they stepped into the room, and with a snort she asked, "Who left such a mess?"
"Three guesses," Ban called as he headed towards the kitchen, carrying the sacks of onions.
Sheepishly Elizabeth hurried behind the bar, cleaning up the lemons and wiping down the table with a rag from under the counter. The woman watched with piqued interest, and Elizabeth tried her best not to watch back. She was intimidating, and beautiful, and her clothes—nothing like anything she had seen before. The golden eyes followed her, but she never spoke, and the silence made her so nervous she kept mixing up bottles and dropping things.
Finally the woman laughed, startling her. "I hope this isn't one of your tricks," she warned, and then disappeared up the steps to the second floor. Elizabeth found herself breathing a bit easier without her scrutiny, and just in time too; the door to the tavern opened with a jingle of the bell, and the first customers arrived.
Working in a tavern was not something that Elizabeth had ever imagined she would be doing, but at first it seemed really fun. The customers were a happy bunch, stopping in after a day working hard, meeting friends and swapping gossip. The intimidating woman appeared again at some point, wearing a pink shirt and blue skirt. She looked ridiculous, Elizabeth concluded, but at the same time sophisticated somehow. Even though it was much less risqué than the previous outfit, it still left little to the imagination, and she wondered why in the world she would wear it.
Immediately it became clear. "Merlin!" the patrons called in a chorus, and with a wink and a wave she swept behind the bar and picked up a large tray.
Merlin gave her an impatient look. "Are you going to stare all night or are you going to pour drinks?"
"Right! Right!" Elizabeth exclaimed. The next few hours were busy, fast, exciting, and exhausting. The princess—Meliodas—served mug after mug of ale, pulling out bottles of brown and yellow and clear and even blue liquid, popping corks on slim bottles of wine. Merlin kept the customers happy with her poised service, and to Elizabeth's shock, even began using magic to move drinks and food around the room. Ban would appear occasionally from the kitchen to speak to someone or help himself to a drink. Even the pig seemed to have a job—Hawk, she came to learn was his name—gobbling up leftovers and chatting up customers into ordering more.
Elizabeth could only do her best to keep up with it all. Her cheeks were flushed from the excitement and the heat and noise of the room. And the money… she had no need of it, and had never seen so many coins in different colors and sizes, some with strange markings. Piles of it were dropped into a metal box behind the counter, and Elizabeth itched to pull it all out and lay it on the counter and examine each strange piece.
"Hey," Ban said, stepping around the bar.
Elizabeth handed two mugs to the men who had just taken seats at the bar before looking over. "Yes?"
"Can you take these over to table four?" he asked, nodding his head towards the window. "Merlin took a break and I gotta go hit the can. Master'll eat this if it sits out."
He handed her three plates, which she somehow managed to juggle into her arms. Stepping carefully out into the main floor, she weaved her way among the tables and patrons and carefully set the plates down in front of the three men at the table. No one acknowledged her, so after a moment she turned to go, but then was stopped by a rough hand on her arm.
"Hey!" the one grabbing her shouted. "This isn't what I ordered!"
"What?" she asked, turning back around.
He held up his plate. "This. Isn't. What. I. Ordered." He smirked at her and said in a haughty voice, "I wanted my eggs over hard. This is over medium."
Elizabeth looked at him with wide eyes, unsure of what to do, when he thrust the plate at her. "Are you gonna go fix it?"
"S-sure," she stammered, grabbing the plate and hurrying it back to the kitchen.
But it was still empty, Ban having not returned. "What do I do? What do I do?" she muttered, looking around.
The door swung open and Hawk appeared. "What are you doing?" he hollered. "The customers need help! I'm taking care of everything all by myself again!"
"I'm sorry," she said with a wring of her hands. "This food was made wrong and I don't know how to fix it."
"Well figure something out! And leave the scraps, I'll get them in a second." With that he turned and trotted out, a chorus of voices swelling as the door swung open.
What to do? Elizabeth spied the rack of eggs, and decided to just fix the order herself. She had seen people cook before, how hard could it be? Grabbing two eggs, she carried them to the pan already hot and waiting on the stove. She cracked them on the side of the counter and drops in the yolks, one at a time, smiling in satisfaction as she watched the whites start to simmer.
But the man had said he wanted them over hard. Elizabeth frowned. What does that mean? The edges were browning a bit so she reached for a spatula overhead, but paused. Eggs aren't hard. The more you cook them, the softer they get. How do you make an egg over, hard?
Biting her lip she lifted the corner of one egg. They were cooked nearly through on the bottom, and with a tentative prod she confirmed what she already knew: the eggs were not hard. Her eyes swept around, looking for guidance, and then landed on the broken eggshells on the counter. That was the only part of an egg that is hard… perhaps…?
It seemed strange, but then she had never heard of eggs over hard before. Maybe this was how they eat them in… wherever this was? Deciding to try it, she tossed in the eggshells, and then carefully folded the eggs over. She flipped them a few seconds later, letting them cook a bit more, and then with a renewed confidence slid them onto a plate.
Elizabeth grinned as she returned to the main room and placed the meal down in front of the customer. "Two eggs over hard!" she laughed. He stared at her a minute, and she realized she probably looked too eager. Quickly she turned to go back to serving drinks.
"Hey!" His shout was louder now, making her freeze. His voice carried through the room, drawing the attention of the other patrons, so cautiously Elizabeth turned around. He was standing now, his face furious as he pushed over his stool. "Is this some kind of joke?"
"Joke?" she echoed, twisting her fingers together nervously. Did she screw up again?
"Yeah, a joke. You put shells in my eggs. I almost choked!"
Her eyes watched in alarm as he picked up a knife from the table. "I'm terribly sorry, I-you said you wanted eggs hard and I—"
The room erupted into laughter, which only infuriated the man more. Elizabeth's face was on fire as she looked around at the eagerly watching faces. "You think this is funny? I'll show you funny."
He lunged forward, and Elizabeth jumped back with a shout; but in the next instant Ban was there, his hand on the man's shoulder and pushing him very pointedly back down on his stool, as Merlin stepped in front of her, blocking his path.
"I'm very sorry for the mix-up," Merlin cooed, picking up the plate. "Our boss has been a bit under the weather."
"He nearly killed me!" the man yelled, and Elizabeth gasped. "Someone could have been hurt!"
"But you weren't, were you?" Merlin smiled. "I'll get you a fresh plate right away. And everything is on the house for your trouble, of course."
That mollified him enough to merely grumble, and Merlin reached over to collect the offensive eggs. Elizabeth watched as her eyes met Ban's for a brief moment, then the tall man let go of his shoulder, stepping around the patrons who were going back to their own conversations, now that the show was over. "Come on you," he said, hauling Elizabeth up and pushing her back around the bar.
After the last customer left, Elizabeth slumped down on a stool. The service was exhausting, and she groaned looking around at all the cleanup to be done. But to her delight, Merlin did a quick twist of her wrist, and the cups, plates, and trash began to float through the room, depositing themselves into the appropriate places.
She watched in wonder for a moment before she realized Merlin was looking at her sternly. With a sheepish smile she turned to go, but Hawk was blocking the other side. "Uh…" Elizabeth began, but the pig cut her off with a stomp of his hoof.
"I don't know what's gotten into you," he snapped, "but your antics are going to cost us valuable information. You are the Captain, you need to act like it."
Elizabeth gulped and nodded as Merlin picked up the lecture. "This isn't just a tavern we're running. We're trying to find the others, because without them we'll have no hope against the Commandments. Not that I need to remind you of that."
"I'm sorry," Elizabeth squeaked out, but then Hawk continued, "And those men! What were you thinking, cooking for them? Ban is going to kill you if I don't do it myself. And how did they intimidate you? You really couldn't handle one loud mouth idiot?"
Both glared at her, but Elizabeth simply stood with her mouth hanging open. A moment later, Merlin sighed. "I suppose I should not be so harsh. You haven't been feeling well? You need more sleep."
"More sleep," Elizabeth murmured. She frowned, suddenly, remembering this was a dream. How long was this thing going to last?
As she pondered that, she noticed something strange about Merlin's uniform. With a gasp she looked closer, bending down to lean in towards her backside.
"Knock that off, you pervert!" Hawk squealed.
Elizabeth blushed, shaking her head furiously as she righted herself. "I wasn't—looking. There is a slit up the back of her skirt. Someone cut a hole in it!"
"Must have been that idiot," she muttered, turning around to try to see it. "How bad is it?"
"I can fix it," Elizabeth volunteered. Before Merlin could say anything else, she hurried into the storage where she had spied some supplies and came back out to the main room, sitting on a stool and setting out her things. Ban came in wiping his hands on a towel as she carefully threaded a needle. "What's this?" he laughed.
"Captain's gonna sew my skirt," Merlin chuckled. They joked together at her—Meliodas'—expense, but when Merlin slipped out of her skirt—very unashamed at being in simply a pair of panties, but making Elizabeth blush furiously—she quickly got to work stitching up the hole.
When it was done, she examined it proudly. It was nearly impossible to tell where the hole had been, and Merlin looked at her curiously after examining it herself. "Well what do you know," Ban commented. "Captain's full of surprises."
"Oh, I've known how to do that all my life," Elizabeth explained. "One of the things my father expects us to learn."
All three exchanged a look, and she blushed again. Of course they wouldn't know that; they thought she was their friend Meliodas. But if this was a dream, did it matter?
"Why don't you head to bed," Merlin said gently. "Get some rest, because we have to keep moving in the morning. I can finish up down here."
Gratefully, Elizabeth nodded and hurried up the stairs, doing a double-take when she caught sight of herself in the mirror again. Once more she examined herself closely, staring into unfamiliar green eyes, twisting a few of the wild blonde locks of hair that seemed to be everywhere. Slowly she undressed, running the fingers stronger than her own over hard muscle, exclaiming in surprise by how much strength was present in the chiseled body. And there was something else too, something that seemed to simmer under her skin, just waiting for release, but what she did not know.
When the shirt was removed, Elizabeth saw something she had never noticed before. She had a tattoo on her arm, a circular dragon that was eating its own tail. Drawing closer to the mirror she peered at it closely, amazed by the simple but effective design. There was something about it that stirred her blood a bit, making her lightheaded, but in a good way. She flexed her bicep as she bit her lower lip, tracing the outline with her finger.
This dream… is so realistic…
After stripping down to her shorts—she did not want a repeat surprise like that morning—she began to look around the room. The closet had more uniform shirts and pants, another pair of boots, a cloak, and odds and ends such as a belt and a scabbard. The drawers yielded nothing at first either, just more clothes and a few blankets.
But the top left drawer held stacks of papers and notebooks, so Elizabeth pulled it all out and laid it across the table. There was a map of Britannia with X's and marks with notes, legends detailing the tavern's expenses, reminders on scraps of paper with people's names or recipes. It made her curious where in Britannia she was supposed to be. Elizabeth had gone on only a handful of trips outside of Liones, always under heavy supervision, and always staying in royal palaces.
Stacking it all in a pile, Elizabeth opened the first notebook and immediately gasped. There was a perfect sketch of the Boar Hat, down to the little sign outside and the shingled pointed roof. Elizabeth could not help but smile at the beautiful drawing as she turned the page, finding more sketches. Some were of Ban and Merlin and some others she did not know; some were of armor, some of animals, and some random shapes or designs.
There was one figure that kept appearing, however, a woman who was somehow familiar, as if in a dream of a dream. Elizabeth hummed to herself as she found the sketch again and again. Long hair and bangs, a curvy figure, but no defining features. It seems almost that Meliodas had forgotten what her face looked like from the unfinished drawings. In one of the drawings, the mystery woman had two sets of shining white wings; the image of it gave her a shiver, and she found herself unable to look away for several minutes.
On the next to the last page was a strange symbol, drawn with heavy ink. It was a circle with a flaming ring around it, and it gave Elizabeth an unusually unsettled feeling. All at once she had the sense that she was doing something wrong, snooping into someone's private diary of sorts. She slammed the book closed and decided not to look at the others, not wanting to intrude.
She was about to return the things when she remembered her own notebook at the castle. Someone had written Who are you? on one of the pages, after she had a day she could not recall.
Elizabeth frowned. Was there some kind of… connection between this dream and that day?
Fishing back in the drawer, Elizabeth came upon a few pencil stubs and a pen with ink. Carefully she opened the book, leafing through until she reached the ending. There was only one blank page, the one opposite the strange symbol. Dipping the pen into the ink, she carefully wrote across the blank page her name: Elizabeth.
She placed the pen down and left the papers and books out, suddenly tired. With a huge yawn she climbed into the bed so unlike her own after blowing out the lamps in the room, and then turned to look out the window once settled. Instead of the glowing lights of the castle and the city below, it was dark, only a faint light or two coming from the town. It was empty, and quiet, and strange, and within minutes, Elizabeth fell fast asleep.