Theme 16: All That I Am

His wrath was tempered, a soothed hum deep in his core that rarely craved to bare its teeth. Millenia ago, he was a monster drowning in the darkness his father had raised him to ravish and control, to strike fear and terror into the world and its clans. He didn't care to remember his thoughts from that time: recalling them only brought up images of dark haze and the thirst to conquer. Elizabeth, meanwhile, had been born with the most persevering moral compass of all time. One strong enough, hopeful enough, to look at the most powerful, irredeemable demon Britannia had seen and convert him through the sheer faith in the potential he may have not had without her.

No, they had never been the same: she had always been better than him. Their lives had only diverged in similarity: her through the blissful ignorance of reincarnation, and the endless pain of never-ending death. Him, on the other side of the spectrum, through the agony of seeing his love die into eternity with no sign of release.

A chill runs through him at the reflection. His arms, wrapped loosely around his knees, shivered even in the breezy warmth of autumn.

Days ago, Merlin had warned him of the impending threat that was the Commandments. He hardly needed her warning- he had enough of his old power to note the darkness that leaked through the night air, the ominous chill of a horror to come. He knew of the terror that was the Commandments. He had lead them himself to commit atrocities and destruction through Britannia and its other realms. That was many years ago, yet…

A sigh tumbles through parted lips, and he turns out of his haze to the girl who lay next to him. Elizabeth sleeps, pink nightgown and blankets covering her chest as she takes deep, even breaths. Meliodas feels himself calm, if only a bit. At least he had her close. But the threat of her imminent danger, yet again, is overwhelming. He fights with himself internally: keeping her close meant protecting. But keeping her far from himself meant keeping her out of the way of what he sure would be an immediate threat against him. Decisions, decisions.

"Meliodas?" Elizabeth mutters, sleep heavy in her voice. He freezes, in movement and thought. "Why are you sitting up?" she near slurs.

He erases the darkness in his eyes, lets his messy bangs cover the emotion on his face. "Just couldn't sleep!" he tries to smile, unconvincingly.

He doesn't need to meet her eyes to know they were piercing his face. He could feel her, as he always could. Knowing her so long, he could feel her glances, read every twitch of her lips, feel her emotions radiating off her. It was as overwhelming as it was wonderful.

"You're worried." She states, matter of factly, as she turns towards him, pressing her cheek into her hand as she leans on her elbow.

"Am I?"

"Mhm," she nods. Gently, with less hesitation, she plucks his clenched fist (he hadn't noticed how tense he was) from the sheets, taking it into her own hands. He was calloused and hard from battle and swords and wounds. She was gentle and smooth; and scars she had ever had left her in each death, as she became new and pure again. It if weren't so bitter and cruel, it would almost make sense.

Maybe he deserved the punishment of living forever in an agony. He'd done a lot of bad things, deserving of a punishment. But she didn't.

"Talk to me about it," she presses on.

He swallows thick. Here lies the blurred line of his ability to appease her. He longs to talk to her, to completely expose his mind to her. But she knows nothing of the agony that surrounded them both. Yet, he hates to upset her, and staying secretive did upset her. She'd know if he was lying. So he supposes the best option is to tell her some of the truth.

"Honestly I was thinking about… my brother."

"You…" Elizabeth's eyebrows furrow, "Have a brother?"

He internally slaps himself. Of course she didn't know that! She did, millenia ago. They'd met! But now, looking back at this lifetime with her, the issue had never come up!

He nods. "He's sealed away. With the rest of the demons."

Elizabeth blinks, then blinks again. Processing. Her lips turn down. "Were you… close?"

Meliodas grimaces at that. "No but… I wish we were. It's my fault we weren't."

"Why do you say that?"

He smiles sadly. "Because I wasn't a good person. Or a good brother. Or a good anything."

Elizabeth frowns again at that, "You're good now, that's what matters," she presses gently. Because of you, he wants to note. But that will start a conversation he cannot have. "Your brother… was good, though?" She carries on.

Meliodas pauses at that. Was Zeldris good? They were at war. Of course, his brother despised the Goddesses, worked hard to appease their father who was evil.

And yet, Meliodas remembers the smiling face of a boy who near worshipped him, who Meliodas knew, even then, longed for his older brother's acceptance. Something so trivial, yet he rejected his brother of it anyways. Why? Why had he been so bad? He tries to remember, but the years have wiped it away. He tries to remember his motivation for evil, why he used to pound his brother into the dirt rather than just speak to him as they could have. The look on his brothers face as he told him he was abandoning the clan. The betrayal.

He tries to remember the thoughts that ran through his mind in those times. But watching the memories of himself and his own actions is like watching a stranger.

"He was… better than me." Meliodas concludes. "I think he could have been good. If the circumstances were different."

"War does bad things to people…" Elizabeth thinks out loud.

If only she knew.

"Do you wish to see him again?" she asks.

"I don't know." He answers honestly. "I like the idea of us… being able to start again. I could be happy. He could be happy. We could start a new life. He had someone he used to love, too. I don't think he wanted to fight. Not like I did but…" He pauses, taking a deep breath, "He hates me. And he's powerful. He'd be a threat to us both."

"But it's important to you," Elizabeth argues, "we've faced threats before-"

"Not like this." he notes darkly. Hendrickson had been a tiny threat compared to the commandments, who possessed a strength and power Elizabeth likely couldn't note. Not anymore.

She stirs again, turning in her pillow, leaning on an elbow. Meliodas has several simultaneous emotions: fear and love and stress and longing.

He hesitates to touch her, but like the magnet that pulled him to her millennia before, he can hardly resist. He reaches a slightly trembling hand to a strand of her hair, pulls it through his fingers. Its soft like silk and the same color as the moonlight pouring through the window. She simply watches him.

"It's okay," she coos, "we'll be okay," and he wonders why she's using such a nurturing tone of voice before realizing he's crying.

For one of the only times in this lifetime of hers, he blushes deeply, rapidly dropping her hair and wiping at his face.

As his own palm pushes angrily against his cheek, willing the emotion away, she reaches out for him. Gently, she takes his hand, twines her fingers through his. Just as gentle, she tugs down, willing him back against the bed.

"I'm fine," he assures, faux confidence dripping from his voice as he lays next to her, "I don't know why I-"

She hushes him, and he can't take his eyes off their intertwined hands, pressed between his pillow and hers. "Rest. It'll be okay. We can talk about it in the morning." She soothes him, her thumb rubbing circles against his hand. He can only nod.

He watches her, counts the beats before her movement stops again, her breathing evening back out as she falls back into her dreams. Their hands remain together.

He can't stop himself. He presses his lips against her forehead, lingering there moments longer than he would if she was awake. He breathes in her scent, feels her skin against his lips. Longs for her, as he always does.

"I love you," he whispers into her skin. She is still in deep sleep. Perhaps that is for the best, he thinks. Maybe one day he'll say it out loud. Maybe one day.

But not today.

AN: It's been a while! I've been writing, surprisingly. But after writing nothing but Melizabeth and Geldris, I took some months to explore some other parts of writing. A lot of poetry! In the fanfiction world, I've written for some other fandoms, and written a lot in private for my friends (mainly LGBT+ nnt stuff. It's been fun!). But, I'm back on Melizabeth now.

This story's direction needed a major rework. I published this in 2016? Back then, the Commandments were just becoming prevalent, and since I didn't want to go too much in the wrong direction from cannon, I decided to suspend this story in a permanent state of post-Hendrickson, pre-commandment. But I love the Commandments! And the idea of writing a bit into the Zeldris dynamic really reignited by passion for this story. I hope you enjoy that direction. Let me know? :)

(P.S. I realize now I'm publishing this a mere 4 days before I reached the ONE YEAR mark of updating! I can't tell if that is a good thing or a bad thing.)