Summary: Meliodas has done the unthinkable and unleashed a part of himself he swore he never would. Now that she knows the truth about their past, Elizabeth tries to reconnect through their shared memories.

A/N: Welcome to this oneshot! First things first: SPOILERS through chapter 229 of the manga. So if you haven't read, then turn back now.

So this oneshot is a gift for TheGreatLlamaFish, who gave me a great idea that she generously handed to me to use in another upcoming fic. In thanks I wrote her this thing because she is such a Melizabeth fan. She is also a wonderful artist, and you can find her stuff on tumblr! (She is also an incredibly sweet person and possibly the biggest NNT fan I've ever met.) Thank you my dear, and please enjoy!

This fic takes place after 229. I'm working on the assumption that all turns out and Elizabeth heals Meliodas. This fic takes place that evening.

Finally, please be aware this is rated M for adult material.

Thank you for reading! As always I welcome feedback both good and bad. Feel free to leave a review. :D

Elizabeth knocked softly on the door. "Meliodas?" she called. "May I come in? Please?"

There was no answer, not that she truly had expected one. Quietly she opened the door and stepped inside, her eyes adjusting to the soft purple light that flooded the room. Her lips pressed together when she spotted him sitting on the bed, his back to the door. Even though he was in silhouette, she could tell his head was down, his shoulders hunched forward, his body tense.

The door gave a small click as she closed it, and then Elizabeth slowly walked through the room. It felt strange at first, seeing the bedroom she knew so well, but through different eyes this time. Literally different, she thought as she caught sight of herself in the mirror. Although the goddess symbol that had come to life with her powers during the battle had begun to fade, the soft glow was still there around her pupils. She paused for a moment to brush her fingers through her bangs, tucking them behind her ear. No use hiding behind her hair now.

She stopped at the foot of the bed and looked at Meliodas. She had seen him at his worst before, more times than she could even count. From the first time they had suffered in battle, to facing their gods, the wars, the rescues… Danafor.

All the way leading up to this time, this life. It struck Elizabeth then how difficult this time had been. She was still a bit confused about her last death-something just seemed so different about it-but this life had been anything but easy. It hadn't started that way; the youngest daughter of a king gave her a pampered childhood without any of the real responsibility. But when she began to think of everything they had been through in the past months together: escaping the Holy Knights, the fight at Baste Dungeon, the Goddess Amber, the battle with Hendrickson; then Camelot, and Ishtar, and that awful day at Vaizel…

There was a pang of regret in her chest, that twisted in a bittersweet way. How could she have not recognized him? She loved him, truly loved him all this time. How could her heart have not remembered his own?

"Meliodas," she whispered. He did not answer, so Elizabeth walked around the bed, but did not sit. Instead, she went to the window, looking out at the darkening sky that still only showed a handful of stars. She smiled to herself as the evening looked so familiar, a thousand memories surfacing of looking up into that same sky.

"Do you remember that night we spent on that awful fishing boat you bought?" Chuckling to herself, she continued, "You named it the Elizabeth, to catch my attention. About all you caught on that floating wreck." Elizabeth laughed again. "It was supposed to be romantic, but it smelled so bad. Who knew a fisherman's daughter could get so seasick?" She wrapped her arms around her waist and sighed. "You took care of me though, just like you always do. You put my head in your lap and told me to count the stars until I felt better."

She closed her eyes as she grinned, her cheeks heating a bit from the memory. Then after a few moments of silence, Meliodas said quietly, "It was going well until I got sick too."

Elizabeth burst out laughing. "It was a night to remember, all right." The irony of her words doused her merriment suddenly, and she cleared her throat as she glanced over her shoulder. "Are you feeling better?"

"I'll live."

Meliodas never looked up, and she pressed her lips together as she watched him. "You'd heal faster if you let me-"

"You don't have to," he interrupted. She wished he would look at her, so she could see the color of his eyes. Not that she was afraid; on the contrary, she had never been afraid, not of him, never of him. But she wanted to see to know he was healing, to know that he was moving away from all he had tried so hard to leave behind. It was something that she had ever wanted him to, except when he was hurt, like this.

Without a word she moved to the bed and sat next to him. They did not speak, but she reached out and slid her fingers over his left hand, which was fixed hard into a grip on his thigh. Immediately the little slivers of energy slipped out, dancing along his skin to smooth over the cuts and bruises that covered his body. Slowly she felt his hand relax as the rest of him followed suit, and Elizabeth could not help but smile at this familiar ritual.

"I said you didn't have to," he murmured.

Elizabeth slid her hand under his, entwining their fingers; after a moment, his curled around hers. "I think it goes on its own by now," she answered, giving his hand a squeeze.

She watched his shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath, still hunched forward, still not looking at her. Tentatively she placed her other hand on his back, feeling him still as she slid her palm across his spine. Elizabeth licked her lips, searching for something to say. Finally she took a deep breath and said, "What happened today-"

"I'm sorry," he bit out harshly. "I never, ever wanted you to see that."

Her hand stilled where it rubbed his back. "I've seen it before."

"Then see it again." His tone was sharp, one she had not heard in a very long time. "I told you, didn't I? When we sat outside of the Boar Hat, after I woke up. I told you, I was scared-I told you, I couldn't turn-turn into him-"

He lifted his face then, finally; and his eyes were green, so rich and deep, and she remembered the first time she had seen them. They shone as he looked at her, and unable to stop herself, Elizabeth leaned forward and kissed him.

It was nothing at first, just flesh against flesh, and for a horrifying second, Elizabeth thought she must have been wrong. Were these memories real? Was this Meliodas the same one from a hundred lifetimes ago? Could he feel the same way? Her face burned in embarrassment. Perhaps not, he had lost her so many times, she had hurt him so many times, of course he would not feel what she felt, he had stopped all this foolishness long ago-

But then his head tilted, and his lips moved over hers in a way that was so familiar, she nearly cried out in relief. It was the same, the first thing since she had met Zeldris in that dark place that had made sense.

She clung to him, her hands gripping his shoulder and his shirt, and he turned and grabbed up her waist, his hands heavy and sure as they curled around her back. He tasted the same, even smelled the same too, the same soft pad on the inside of his bottom lip, the same small bump on the back of his head as she slid her hand into his hair. It was the first kiss, the last kiss, the hundredth or the thousandth or the only. It was the same.

Elizabeth had been the bold one, the one who led him through the strange relationship and the feelings that grew between them that neither could deny. After his initial rejection of her, and then the crude vulgarity as he tried to push her away when staying away from her became unbearable, he had finally accepted her love and his own love for her. But that acceptance had brought a certain timidity, a wall that he constructed around who he was, to keep the beast inside caged. Meliodas had said it was to protect her, so he would never hurt her.

But she knew it wasn't true. And even now, just like then, she did not fear that beast.

They broke apart at the same time, both panting and squeezing their hands where they held each other. She was nearly dizzy from the kiss, overwhelmed by the new sensations. But they weren't new, were they? She had done this so many times, pressed against him and kissed him, sometimes boldly, sometimes slowly, sometimes chastely, and it was always returned. It was a strange moment, caught between memory and reality. Elizabeth remained still, her mouth open as she breathed deeply, but Meliodas leaned in, brushing the side of his brow against her temple. "Forgive me," he whispered.

His plea cut through the fog of confusion. "There is nothing to forgive," she whispered back.

Her feathery words made him freeze. Meliodas could feel her hands on him, the first time in nearly twenty years, and it was just like the first time. His chest felt tight when she turned her head, nuzzling against his cheek; it was obvious she wanted him to respond, but he still felt too chaotic, too dangerous.

"Elizabeth," he murmured, pulling away. She let him lift his face, but when he tried to pull out of her arms, she only slid closer.

"There is nothing to forgive," she said again, firmer this time. "You did what you had to do to protect me, to protect all of us." Tilting her head, she leaned her face in closer. "Besides, you've always come back to me. You promised you would."

He shook his head, turning away. "I betrayed you so many times. I promised to break the curse."

"Then I have betrayed you just as often," she whispered.

That hit him hard. "How can you betray a promise you don't remember even making?" Meliodas sighed. "I wasted today. This should have been just us."

"And leave Camelot to Zeldris?" A small sound of her laughter caught his attention. "You are the same way as always," remarked Elizabeth. "So brave, so noble, and so unable to see it."

Meliodas huffed his own bitter laugh. Noble was the type of word she would use, his Elizabeth that he loved so fiercely. Still loved. Still love.

"I could never see what you saw," he replied.

Her hand pressed on his cheek, turning his face to her. It was so difficult to look at her now, after losing control as he did. He hurt people, he destroyed things. He turned on his friends and teammates. That was what demons did, and he was the greatest demon in Britannia. But deep down Meliodas figured he deserved this shame, as a penance for his sin. Having to look into the blue eyes that adored him so much and know that they were mistaken was the least he could do to repay his actions.

"Do you remember when I lived with the priestesses," she said, smiling at him. He sighed as he listened her tell the familiar story. He could get lost in that smile. "I was so frightened to talk to you… but I knew I had to. So we sat together, just like this, and didn't speak. But I could feel you, Meliodas."

Her hand, delicate, strong, pressed against his chest, and Meliodas nearly winced. "I could feel something between us. I didn't even know your name yet, but somehow… I knew you."

"It's the curse," he replied simply. He remembered that night, of course he did. Her hair was dark then, the deep brown of the forest, and she wore the ceremonial white robes of the order. He remembered how it felt for her lips to brush his as his hands slid under those robes. He remembered every inch of her.

"But I knew you, Meliodas," she said. "And I have never been afraid."

He drew in a sharp breath. "I don't want to be… that," he told her. "I could have hurt you. I could have killed one of the others. I'm not safe, Elizabeth, and I've never been safe. I've told you that from the beginning."

From the beginning. The beginning of what? When she crashed into the Boar Hat in her armor? Each time he found her, each time he loved her? When they undressed the first time and pressed together and defied their families and clans? When they met, and she used her light to save him, to heal him, and he looked at her in wonder?

She smiled again. "I remember," she laughed, and then shifted to sit on his lap.

This is how it had been, how it had always been. Elizabeth overwhelmed him, her spirit and her voice and the way she dotted his mouth with little kisses. How could she be doing this again? Her nail scraped behind his ear, and Meliodas shivered as his hands slipped up her thighs. He started to say her name again, but her mouth smothered his warning in another kiss.

This one was searing, her lips hot on his. He pulled her close as her knees slid up the bed, Elizabeth settling onto his lap. This was familiar too, it was almost painful. How could something so simple as kissing her, or so sweet as the taste of her mouth, fill him with such doubt?

No, not doubt. She gave him anything, everything, but doubt.

Her arms were tight around him as the kiss grew bolder. Meliodas moved his hands down, grasping her rear, and for the first time since they connected again, there was no squeal of embarrassment. It was almost a sin, he decided; he had grown attached to her innocence.

As if she knew, she pulled out of the kiss to press her mouth below his ear. "You can grope me all you want, you know."

Meliodas squeezed her flesh, and she gave the most delightful giggle. "I thought you had remembered, that day. When you said that I… I was so surprised."

"Silly boy," she breathed as he massaged his hands along the curve of her body. "I've been in love with you longer than that."

"I know," he confessed. A sharp pain pierced his temple as he thought of the way the princess would look at him. "When I tried to send you away-"

"Shhh…" Her lips wrapped around his earlobe, and he sighed, his fingers digging into the backs of her thighs. "I understand. I always have." He felt her mouth slide over his cheek, seeking his, so he turned and met her eagerly. Meliodas wanted to feel her forgiveness, and it seeped into him like the warm light that had healed his wounds. Had he ever been as cruel to Elizabeth as he had been to Elizabeth Liones? Had he ever hurt her, had he ever failed so often to keep her from danger, than this time?

He was so wrapped up in kissing her that he did not notice her arms had let go of his neck until he felt her fingers brush his shirt. Meliodas pulled his lips away and glanced down to see the tie of her uniform undone, and her fingers working the three little buttons on the top. "Elizabeth?" he asked, swallowing nervously. "Are you sure you want-?"

In answer her blouse went over her head, and she grinned at him as her tousled hair fell over her bare chest. "Yes, I'm sure," she laughed. "After all, it's not the first time."

"Not the first time," he echoed as his hand lifted to her breast. Squeezing gently, Meliodas could feel the nipple growing hard against his palm, sending a shiver of pleasure through him. It was such a loaded statement, making this such a heavy moment, that all he could do was stare at the body he now held.

Over and over he caressed her as the visions of her in the past became clear. He remembered to drag his fingers along the sides of her breasts, that she liked that. Elizabeth rewarded him with a moan, and he smiled to himself. He spread his palms over the generous curves and dragged his hands up and down her body. Elizabeth gave a soft sound and dropped her head back, arching a bit as in offering to him.

It was all too real all of a sudden, the memories of all the times they had done this rolling together into an intense pressure inside his temples.

"Meliodas?"

He realized his hands had stilled, his mouth had gone dry. Painfully he swallowed as he took hold of her waist.

"Are you all right?"

He looked up at her then, into her eyes full of concern, her mouth pulled into a little frown. "Are you nervous?" Her hand slid into his hair, caressing the side of his head. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to," she whispered.

His eyes went wide then; the thought that Elizabeth was reassuring him! This young girl that squealed every time he touched her, who blushed furiously when he smiled at her, who wore adorably long nightgowns to bed with him after wearing the incredibly inviting tavern uniform of her own design all day. This sweet girl, this princess, this angel in his arms on the cusp of womanhood, was worried about his nerves.

"Do you remember," said Elizabeth with a smile, "when we were living in the north, in that cottage? I was so nervous, so you let me do what I wanted the first time."

He gaped at her for a moment, and then he closed his eyes and laughed. "Meliodas?" she chuckled, and then gave a little squeak as he turned them easily, so she was laying on her back, his own body leaning over her. Meliodas bent down and kissed her soundly, rocking his body against hers, and he sighed into her mouth as her arms tightened around his shoulders.

"I love you," he said against her mouth, pushing his tongue inside hers before she could answer. He wasn't ready to hear it, not yet. This was still too startling. He had failed Elizabeth Liones, even as she had questioned him about their past, all the times he found her directly in harm's way, failed to keep her from meeting Zeldris, which he had known would be a mistake. He had failed her today, when he lost control of his power and forgot to trust in her.

Yet she loved him anyway. She loved him despite the years and years of failure, the death, the pain. She loved every part of him, even the demon part that he had kept hidden. But he was not ready to hear that yet.

He kissed her until she was gasping for breath, her lips plump and swollen from his passion, and immediately dipped down to drag his mouth along her breast. Elizabeth cried out, the pleasure sudden and unexpected. Even though she had all the memories of the other times, this time was still the first, the first again, and her stomach was in knots.

She felt his hands slide down her hips, and then snake under her skirt as his mouth pressed on her neck. "What I remember," he said, "is that tiny mattress in that little farmhouse that made that noise every time we moved."

Elizabeth laughed. "Didn't you fall off of it?" she asked, her voice breathless.

"Mmm hmm…" His hands pressed her legs apart, and as his mouth traveled back down her chest, his fingers brushed between her thighs, caressing her center over the fabric of her panties. Elizabeth tilted her hips up, pressing against the slow rhythm of his fingers dragging up and down her body. Meanwhile his mouth teased her skin, leaving fluttering kisses between her breasts.

She sighed, savoring the moment, relaxing back into the bed. She thought about all the nights they had slept together in this room, under the covers, when she wanted nothing more than to hear him say he loved her and feel his lips dust over her skin as they were now. So many nights she had laid quietly in the dark, imagining what would happen if she asked for him, having no idea that he was probably doing the same.

His hand stopped for a moment as his mouth found her nipple. Then came a pleasure that made her back bow off the bed and her knees draw back, a tight pulsing beginning low in her core. She gripped his hair, tugging a bit when he stopped to lap against her skin.

"Meliodas," she whispered, "I love-"

"I also remember," he interrupted, "when you didn't wear these."

"What?" she gasped.

The hand between her legs cupped her sex, his thumb moving in a slow circle along the top. "You were living in the mountains, I think? And I had such a surprise when I put my hand under your skirt and-"

"Meliodas!" She felt him laugh against her, then plant a wet kiss on the side of her breast. "You are teasing me."

His thumb continued that delicious swirl against her that was making her head spin. "And that wasn't a tease?"

"The people in that part of Britannia… they didn't…" She realized he was still laughing, and with a little noise of frustration she tugged on his hair. "You are teasing me."

"Yes, but you make it so easy." He slid back up her body and kissed her cheek. "Always have."

With a playful growl she pushed on his shoulders, climbing onto him when he rolled over with a laugh. "I remember something," she said as she started to unbutton his shirt."

He raised an eyebrow, his hands moving up and down her thighs. "Oh?"

Elizabeth nodded. She let her hair fall forward, covering part of her face, giving him a sweet smile. Slowly she pulled his shirt open, enjoying the way his eyes were so focused on her. "I remember when you decided to jump into that waterfall, and came out-"

"Covered in leeches," he groaned with a laugh. "Yes, I remember."

She smiled as he chuckled, helping her remove his shirt. He was finally starting to relax, his smiles coming easier, and her power told her that his body was free of pain and tension. Once his chest was bare, he leaned up on his elbows, but Elizabeth's hands paused as she took in the seven scars that now dotted his body. Her fingers trembled as she traced the first one.

"Elizabeth," he whispered.

Her eyes flew up to him, and Elizabeth was shocked to find she was blinking back tears. It was the first time she had ever survived him, the first time she had been there for his death, and the pain of that moment flared hot and sudden on her neck. But he had experienced the same moment of watching her die, over a hundred times, and for the first time she felt as though she understood. The emotion of seeing him lifeless on the ground surged through her, and all Elizabeth could think was, he felt this way a hundred times.

Quickly she surged forward, kissing him again, wanting to hide how frightened she felt. Not of him, never of him, she thought, but of how much he loved her, despite the agony she had brought to his life. This never ending life, this curse he was under because of her. Yet he loved her anyway. He loved her despite the years and years of pain, of death, of loneliness. He loved every part of her, even the legacy and the stigma of being part of such a cruel and ruthless race. And she was not ready to forget that, not yet.

They kissed again and again as they removed their clothing, until there was nothing left and they were skin to skin, again and for the first time. Then Meliodas climbed between her legs as she opened herself to welcome him. Their hands moved, exploring, remembering, and they laughed and gasped together as they rediscovered each other.

"Do you remember the dress you wore the night of the ball?"

"Do you remember the horses you stole from the baron?"

His body rolled against her, not fast, the pace gentle. His hands pulled her legs around him, and she pulled his face down to kiss him. Meliodas looked at her so lovingly that she could not turn away, falling under the spell of his eyes the way she had three thousand years ago. She felt as though it was only the two of them in the whole world, and when his hand returned to her body to sink inside of her folds, she tightened her grip on him and fought to keep her eyes open.

"Do you remember the lake we found in the forest?"

"Do you remember the lunch you cooked when you took me home from prison?"

Meliodas was becoming addicted to her, his darkness pulsing inside of him with every twist and moan from the beauty underneath him. His own body was hard and demanding attention, but her skin tasted so good, her body tight and wet against his hand, that he was reluctant to stop this part and rush into the next. Her nails on his neck and the way her breasts pressed against him and her tongue tracing his jaw were driving him mad; but still, he denied himself, until she was pressing on his chest and climbing over him, her hands suddenly frenzied as they dragged down his body.

When her fingers found his hard length he moaned. Her lips pressed to his throat, and she panted, "I remember you. I remember this."

He grabbed her hips and pulled her body towards him, unable to wait any longer. With a groan Meliodas pressed inside her entrance, the emotion and the memories now all gone, now only aware of the feeling of being inside of her, again. He pushed upwards as Elizabeth gave a little gasp of pain, and he stopped mid-thrust, remembering that this was the first time. Her first time.

Meliodas laid there frozen, unsure of what to do, when Elizabeth sat up. What a vision she was just then, her body flushed from his kiss, her skin trembling as he caressed her stomach, her eyes shining as they met his own. Deliberately she lifted her hips, settling on the head of him; and then slowly, slowly, she started to roll in small circles, letting him slip inside inch by inch.

"I remember," she gasped, "when you came to see me in the castle. After you fought Hendrickson."

"We fought," he said, his voice strained. Meliodas groaned, lifting his hips up, rocking to meet her rhythm. He wanted to devour her, to spread her and ravish her and thrust again and again. Yet the sweet way she worked her body, the tightness in her voice, her soft palms on his chest made him restrain himself. "You saved me that day. Just like today."

Elizabeth leaned down, her hands planting on either side of his shoulders. She was losing it, losing herself to him, the tension pulling tighter and tighter as she moved up and down his body. "You found me. In Vaizel." She pressed her mouth on his. "You found me and held my hand."

His heart skipped a beat to see the pleasure on her face, to remember holding her then. "You were so beautiful, at the trial." He groaned when she pressed a searing kiss to his neck. "I opened my eyes and there you were, crying for me."

"Because of me," she whimpered. His hands moved from her hips to her back, pressing on her comfortingly, and Elizabeth slowed the rocking motions to look down at his face. "I've caused you pain, Meliodas, and I-"

He cut her off with a kiss, holding her body against his as he rolled them over. His mouth never left hers as his knees pressed her thighs back, and then he was thrusting, filling her body over and over with the most exquisite friction. She was desperate, shameless in her moaning, the images of him flipping through her mind like pages in a book: his smile when he walked into her father's room in the castle and the flirty way he pinched her; the determination when he arrived to face Hendrickson, and the way he whispered to her when he rescued her; the pain in his eyes when he stood in the cave, reliving Liz's death, reliving her death.

Elizabeth cried out, a sob stuck in her throat. "I love you," she moaned.

The movement of his hips stuttered for a second, and she could feel his breathing ragged against her. But then he began to move again, fervently, unrelenting, and her cries became broken and breathless.

"I loved you," he whispered, "when I saw you, and your wings were shining-"

"You looked so cold, but I could see something-"

"The fence where we would meet, and you left the note-"

"The bakery you took me-"

"Your sword, with the ruby handle-"

"That shirt I loved, that matched your eyes-"

"You laughed when I fell from the tree-"

"You remembered the book that no one-"

"You cried when we were lost in the woods-"

"You cried to see so much blood-"

They gasped, joining, reliving the past, taking one another through time and through the lives they had shared over and over and over until it ended and the pulsing began. They both cried out, together, their voices harsh, his hands on her shoulder blades where there were no more feathers to caress, her arms above her head as she surrendered her body to him. They shook together in bliss, a requiem for their lives, a celebration of their pain, until they were silent, and still, and sated.

When Meliodas opened his eyes, he found himself draped over her, her hands moving slowly up and down his upper arms. Carefully he pulled away, allowing her legs to fall back to the bed, and he shifted to his side so he could look down at her face.

His stomach twisted to see tears hanging heavily on her lashes. "Elizabeth?" he asked in concern, watching as one slipped down a trail along her cheek for a moment before brushing it away.

"I'm fine," she whispered. She opened her eyes and smiled when she turned to him. "I may be a goddess, but I am also only human."

He chuckled at this and nodded. Without a word they both moved to slip under the covers, and Elizabeth curled up against his chest, their arms around each other, as they both had been longing for every night in their bed in the Boar Hat. Meliodas was pleased that she did not move to put on a sleeping gown, needing to feel the warmth of her body reassuringly against him, and Elizabeth was glad to be still for a bit, wanting to process all that they had shared.

"You remember so much," she sighed, and he nodded. "I try to, anyway," he replied.

It was quiet for a bit, both listening to the other breathing, both memorizing the feel of laying there together. When his fingers dragged along her spine, she looked up at him. "Do you miss the wings?"

"Nah," he chuckled. "You would always end up smacking me with one anyway."

Elizabeth laughed and settled back on the crook of his arm. Her eyes fell on the dragon tattoo on his bicep, and carefully she traced the pattern with the tip of her finger. "This is the first change you made in all this time," she whispered.

"I did it for you." Her eyes met his, her stomach fluttering to see the intensity there. "The Sins are our best chance at breaking this curse. I won't fail you."

Nodding, she slid up to sit next to him, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth. "If two people meeting can have any meaning, then surely we will find a way."

Meliodas smiled at her, relaxing back on the pillows, and brushed her hair back behind her ear as she settled over him. Then they shared another kiss, that led to another, and another, both still in wonder of the forgiveness and the love they felt, both more determined than ever that this night would be another to remember.