[Words: 2396]

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Chapter 9:

Yet to Understand

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…Elizabeth…

It was almost agony waking up. My brain pulsing angrily against my skull and my limbs felt like they were made of lead.

Then it was the immediate realisation of the lack of the eye patch, that I could see with my right eye, and despite how heavy my arms felt, despite how my entire body throbbed with pain, it didn't stop the rush of adrenaline to reach up and feel about. It wasn't there.

Where am I? What happened?

Ignoring the pain, I sat up, hair falling limply to sit at my shoulders and despite how my fringe fell, I didn't feel confident that my eye was covered—where was my eye patch?

I recognised the room when I finally glanced around—Mel's bedroom.

It came to me in bits. Dalmary. The doctor. Golgius…

—Meliodas' anger.

—The illusion magic.

—Ruin and the bell.

Swallowing, I pulled my legs up to my chest and rest my chin on my knees.

They must have continued ahead and met up with Ban… it would explain why I was in Mel's bed. I could remember Ban had claimed Elizabeth's bed and so Eli and Meliodas–Meliodas and I have to share, I corrected.

Lowering my hand, knowing there was no risk of someone seeing the triskele since I was alone, I allowed myself to wake up more, ignoring the way my body felt like one giant bruise.

Letting out a shaky breath, I didn't fight the tears but bit at my hand to stop any sounds from escaping. Dear stars, that really happened.

I choked, breath lodging itself in my sore throat as it set in just what was happening…

Even after all these years, even after my own confrontation with ill-intentioned people, it had never hit me so bluntly just what world I was in—even in the face of the Holy Knights, even as I stood up against them ready to fight against them any way I could—it was only now, this second that—

Why had I been forced into this?

Why was I the one forced into Elizabeth's place?

It didn't make sense. None of it did.

It made me feel worse—made me feel horrible at the thought of Meliodas.

Because I wasn't Elizabeth, not really—I certainly didn't feel like her.

I certainly don't deserve to be her.

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He hesitated at the door, fingers barely brushing against the door handle as he listened to Elizabeth cry behind it. Meliodas swallowed—every inch of his instincts said to enter and comfort, but, reasonably, his mind argued that maybe Elizabeth wanted this moment to herself.

Elizabeth had always been a mentally strong but ever-kind woman, something that had been apparent over their many meetings as enemies. But it hadn't been until that one meeting that he had seen who was behind that façade of Bloody Ellie. It had felt like he had been in the sight of a divine being and seen with eyes that saw soul deep.

Her wishes and strive for peace above all else, even going against her very Mother's orders on occasion. He had believed her naïve—perhaps she was, but getting to know who Elizabeth the Goddess was, Meliodas found himself weak in his knees.

He had hated it at first—believed she was using magic on him because how else could a Goddess make a savage and unstoppable Demon like himself want to set his weapon down to talk.

Meliodas likes to fondly look back on their first meeting—the horrified squeak she made, the splashing of water as she hurried to cover her exposed breasts and he could, even to this day, recall the heat that had encompassed his cheeks.

Beautiful—was the first thing he had thought. Of course, he promptly realised it was a Goddess—no, not just any Goddess but the daughter of the Supreme Deity—but, he had, for the first time, found himself reluctant to attack someone. Maybe it was because of the position he had found her in…

But Beth—like every other Elizabeth that had come—was different in her own right. That determination and kindness, that cheekiness and deviousness—he had gotten to watch Beth blossom before his eyes as a child and knowing he had missed a crucial period in her life where she had grown into this young woman he was getting the chance to meet, leaves a deep and longing ache inside, his hearts feeling like someone had reached in and was squeezing.

It had frustrated him for a long time that he had been driven away from her, driven away from a place he had come to call home. It always hurt—a never-ending pain inside—knowing he shouldn't have expected it to last, he had gotten comfortable and allowed himself to relax despite Merlin's worries and the King's visions.

But he still has no idea who it was that had framed them for the murder of Zaratras and considering they hadn't actually been within the walls of the kingdom at the time of his murder—honestly, humans.

Meliodas took a breath and backed away from the door, listening as her crying slowly tapered off. He listened to the way her heart slowed into the soft pattern of sleep.

He let his shoulders slump, weighed heavy with guilt and longing, with justified anger and unending frustration.

It would have been so much easier had they both been born the same race—why couldn't they have been? It wasn't fair—not to Elizabeth, not to Beth, not to him and not to everyone else who suffered the consequences of their love.

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"Beth?"

At the sudden voice, I jerked, dropping the pen stylus and twisted with a dazed blink to see Luka. "What. What?"

He laughed. "Dinners ready, you didn't answer when we called." He shot me an amused glance. "You always get wrapped up in drawing that it's like you're in another world."

Then he was gone, out the door and pulling it too as he left.

I blinked again—well, he wasn't wrong. Getting into the mindset often left me so focused I forgot about reality…still… a frown tugged at my brows in confusion…what had I been doing?

Slowly reaching for the tablet pen, I looked at my set up—my computer, notepad with doodles, my tablet…I jolted with the realisation I'd been drawing Meliodas and Elizabeth.

I don't…I don't—a daydream?

A strange feeling tugged at my chest, like my breath had been forced out of me. I rest a hand on my chest at the strange tug.

I glanced around my bedroom, teeth gnawing at my bottom lip. My bed, wardrobe, rug, all my knickknacks…

How strange… it all felt so oddly foreign to me. But why?

I shook my head and stood, only sparing the half-finished image a quick, confused glance.

It was so strange—I could have sworn I had just been walking…

I stretch, popping my shoulders and leave my room, smelling the bolognese from all the way up here. I smiled, jogging down the stairs.

"Hey," Dad greeted.

I wiggle my fingers in return. "Hay is for horses."

Dad snorted. "How was college?"

I grinned. "Started a new unit—"

"—So, what do you want to watch?"

I jolted, hard; head snapping round to see Mum sitting beside me—what? When had I gotten here?

"Beth?" She questioned in concern. "You've been really odd tonight? Everything okay?"

I swallowed and waved her off with a grin. "Yeah, just tired, long day."

"If you're tired, we can watch something tomorrow. We have all day Saturday."

"No, no!" I protested. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well—"

—The train rocked; the air as stuffy as I always remember it to be. The few passengers down the other side of the carriage mumbled between themselves. The lights overhead flickered.

"The next station is Green Park. Change here for the Piccadilly and Victoria Lines."

I exhaled, hands trembling as I clutched at my bag's strap.

What was happening?

"Strange, isn't it?"

I looked up and to the voice in front of me—someone who hadn't been there just moments before. The figure was distinctly male but held no features all the same. The glowing form chuckled, its duel-toned voice echoing. The other people down the other end of the carriage were oblivious.

My heart pounded.

"What's going on?" My voice shook.

The train arrived.

"Green Park."

The figure stood and exited. Without even thinking, I hurriedly followed. The doors closed behind me and the train left with a strong gust of wind.

I glanced to the stairs just in time to see the last person, excluding myself and this…figure, exit the platform. I swallowed—there was no one else here but me. That…that—never had I seen a London underground platform empty bar myself before.

The figure turned. Its void eyes—seeming to absorb the very light the figure gave off—peered into my own, as if it was looking at my very soul.

"Sorry," they finally answered and clicked their fingers and—oh. Oh.

Memories flicker to and fro, and I swallow. I glanced down at my hands. The hair falling in front of my gaze flickered from brown to white and back, unable to decide.

"You've voice…" It was the one I had been hearing for years. It was achingly familiar more than just because it had haunted my dreams. "Who are you?"

Was this the person who brought me here? Who allowed me to reincarnate as Elizabeth? Why? Who were they? What were they? A god? I could believe that with their form. Is it even none of the above?

"…It's…complicated."

With no features—including a mouth—that didn't stop me from hearing the smile in his—their—its?—voice. An almost sheepish smile in fact.

"Right," I drawled, voice fading into a defeated tone, I sighed. "…Right."

"Don't take that as no explanation is going to be offered." The figure titled their head, my hope soared, only to fall when they continued: "I would, but it is not yet time. Instead, I called you here for a different reason."

I said nothing, unsure what to think.

"This station is Green Park. Change for the Piccadilly and Victoria Lines. Exit for Buckingham Palace," the woman's voice filled the static silence.

"And what's that?" I finally asked.

"You don't yet understand."

"Understand what?" A flair of frustration filtered through. "I haven't understood anything that's happened since—" I stopped myself short, not know if…if this person knew.

"You arrived in Britianna?" they finished.

Guess they did…did that mean they were the ones to…?

"…Yeah."

They hummed, "Like I had said, complicated. You are here. To stay. You died. In layman's terms, you have always been destined for this."

"This?" I echoed.

They threw an arm out. "This here, it was just temporary. As is all things, my friend. Time is a constant. Tick tock, tick tock." They chuckled, clearly amused by their…joke? I'm not sure how it was a joke but maybe it was just an inside one with themselves. "It just wasn't meant to be, is all."

"Wasn't meant to be?"

"Yes, your life as Bethany was always doomed to be short. As Elizabeth, on the other hand…" they titled their head.

"The train now approaching the platform doesn't stop here. Please stand clear of the edge of the platform as the approaching train does not stop here!"

They chuckled again, sparing a glance at the train that zipped by. I raised a hand, holding my flying hair from getting into my eyes.

"Things are never as we expect, my friend. We live as how we define ourselves. We be who we want to be, sometimes others influence that but at the end of the day, despite outside influences, how we end up is how we were meant to be."

That made…sense, I suppose but I have no idea why they were tell me this. "That doesn't explain anything!"

"It does, you just don't understand yet, Elizabeth. Now." They reached out and I flinched as they booped my nose. "Wake up."

Wake up?

"Wake—

I opened my eyes.

—up."

The setting sun peeked through the curtains, and I blinked blearily. I was in Meliodas' room—when had I gotten here? Why was I here?

I pushed myself up, raising a hand in panic when I realised my eyepatch wasn't there. I franticly searched the room for anyone. No one. I exhaled sharply in relief as I spotted the patch on the bedside table. I grabbed it and pulled it on.

I was wearing the tattered remains of my outfit still, and it reminded me I didn't have anything else to wear apart from the quick nighty I had stitched together. Definitely something I needed to fix asap.

I slipped my legs over the edge of the bed and took a breath before standing. I grimaced at the dull throb, expecting nothing less after the beating I took. I dreaded to think about how I looked, half wrapped up in bandages and covered in forming bruises.

I felt like one giant bruise.

I huffed out a noise that bordered on a chuckle as I opened the door. I hope the others were okay and seeing that I was here, they likely were.

I heard light movement before I even reached halfway down the stairs.

Mel appeared at the bottom when I got close enough with a soft smile. "Hey."

"Hi," I returned meekly, unsure about how I should feel or say or—everything in the last twenty-four hours had been emotionally draining.

Mel offered his arm, and I stumbled over, taking hold.

"Ban cooked some food before heading to bed, so you'll get to meet him in the morning." He kept his voice low and gentle and—stars, I could almost kiss him right where he stood because my pounding head was so very grateful.

I was seated and handed a glass of water and food.

"Did everything go okay?" I asked, drinking almost the entirety of the mug of water in one go.

"Ban mostly broke himself out." He smirked. "Typical Ban. We found the Doctor's daughter too and returned her safely to—"