Happy Howl

By LoweFantasy

1

Like every big, fantastical, world saving event, the Demon King vanished within an all blinding blend of Meliodas's darkness and Elizabeth's light. They had managed to get to this point by combining her healing power to him so that no matter what his father did, he'd heal instantaneously, but while that proved the perfect defense, you didn't win wars or break curses with defense.

Still, lost in the over blow of sound and light, he could feel her knitting any remains of his scratches and bruises.

Then his natural balance found the ground again. He blinked hard and desperately probed his surroundings for his father's presence. Nothing returned to him but blue skies blasted of every cloud and broken rubble.

And then he felt it. The curse, lifting. He gasped so hard he thought his stomach might burst from the effort. Had immortality always been so physically heavy? Did Ban feel the metal cloak on his shoulders as well?

But he only took a moment to register it before spinning around in search of her. When he didn't see any speck of her or her goddess wings among the rubble or skies, his seven hearts seized.

"Elizabeth? Elizabeth!"

No, there she was. He couldn't see her, but he could feel her.

Within an instant he was there, picking her up from a deep crevice created by their power. She was battered, and it hurt to see, but she was looking up at him with that same smile she had three thousand years ago.

"It's gone," she breathed.

But it wasn't until what remained of their friends had gathered them up, all the wounds tended to, the food made, and all the tankards of ale passed out that Meliodas felt it—and boy, did he feel it, hard then a kick to the stomach by a tyrant dragon. Elizabeth had been crying tears of joy the entire time, but he didn't until then.

Once he started, the powerful body that had survived the onslaught of hell began to tremble. He had to sit down and turned his face to hide his moment of being overwhelmed. He could remember many times when his emotions made it near impossible to breathe, but never like this.

"Meliodas?"

Elizabeth's bandaged touch on his shoulder just served to completely undo him. A high pitched, strangled sort of groan escaped him.

The goddess grew alarmed. "Meliodas? What's wrong?"

He had no room to feel horror as he heard the room grow quiet and his stifled sobbing louder. All he could feel was the enormous hot balloon swelling him to the bursting point and pressing hard against his throat.

And like that, he lost control.

He spun around, buried himself in her breasts, and howled.

It was done. It was done. It had been so god damn long, but now it was done and she was here and alive and safe and—he could hardly breathe.

A half drunk Ban and a shrunken Diane were on him instantly, not understanding and worried he was in pain. Gilthunder shouted for Merlin. King started circles around their heads, clutching tight to his mossy pillow. Hawk squawked some gibberish about death curses and the after effects of eating too many demons.

But Elizabeth understood and embraced him tight enough to smother any normal man. She was far more graceful with her euphoria and didn't howl, but a fresh round of tears dampened his hair.

"Never again," she murmured. "Never again."

Gods above, he loved her.

And it was finally, finally okay.