5
Defeating the Demon King did not give Britannia world peace.
The night after his daughter turned four (at least four by demon and goddess standards, as their children aged much more slowly than humans), an assassin back at the capital on the other side of the continent killed the king and his eldest daughter Margaret. The only reason princess Veronica had lived was because she had been on her own estate with her husband, Sir Griamore.
They found out that very night when Merlin teleported to their doorstep.
"Something's afoot in the kingdom," she had said lowly. "No assassin should be able to make it past my enchantments except those who have the rites. It's an inside job."
Elizabeth didn't ask anything. She simply took to her bedroom. Meliodas finished drilling Merlin for any detail and went upstairs, quietly glad that both of his kids were asleep.
He found her sitting on the bed, staring out the window, face dry but eyes dark, even as they looked straight into the moon's light.
What should he say? It would be stupid to ask if she was alright. It would be stupider to ask if there was anything to make it better. This was simple, blunt, ugly tragedy.
So he settled with sitting beside's her and pulling her hand into his lap, rubbing the fingers lightly.
"If I think about it, I've lost loads of family," she said in flat voice. "Almost two hundred lifetimes of family."
"Their lives had already been extended by Merlin's magic, though. They've lived a full and happy lifetime."
She looked down, hiding her eyes from the moon, and therefore, from him.
"Fineas will be devastated," she whispered.
"You already are. See to yourself first. You won't be able to help him if you're broken all over the place."
"But I just said," tears dripped off her lowered chin. "I shouldn't. I've lost lots of family."
"That doesn't make it hurt any less." Images of dead Elizabeth, over and over, flashed across his mind's eye. "When you love someone, it hurts every time."
She clung to him then, most likely knowing what he was remembering, and sobbed. He angled himself against the pillows so she could nestle in his chest like she loved to and let her cry, stroking her head. He wanted to comfort her by saying he would find and kill whoever did this, but he knew Elizabeth found no joy in killing, even of the wicked. That didn't mean he couldn't tell it to the hot anger making his throat hurt and his insides burn.
And there was another problem…
"Merlin said it had to be someone especially powerful to have gotten past her protection spells," he said beneath her sobs and next to her ear. "It might be that time…"
Elizabeth stiffened and sat up. "No! The babies are too young, they can't even—"
"Fineas is stronger than you give him credit."
"But not against someone like that! And Clara, what about Clara? No-no-no, I refuse! I will die before I leave my babies alone."
Meliodas didn't like the idea either, but they had already stretched the limits of the treaty by lingering in human lands as long as they had. At first, it was because it was the only place Meliodas and Elizabeth could be together. But, as they eventually came to understand it, that place would only tolerate them so long. Humans had short lives and shorter memories, after all, and the demon and goddess world were impatient to have their rightful rulers back.
It made him ache, which served to anger him even more.
"I wasn't saying that we would, only that we should consider it," he said. "They'll still be able to grow up and blend in with humans. Maybe find a nice—"
She slapped him.
"NO!"
For the first time in eons, he found his anger directed at her. "I'm only trying to protect my family—"
"You're being a coward! We will stay and defend our children, even if it means singling them out from the humans as different. Even if we have to destroy a whole country, I will not leave my babies!"
Meliodas put a hand to his stinging cheek, but didn't sigh. He got off the bed, walked out the door, and back downstairs.
Merlin had been wise, as she was nowhere in sight.
He came around to the bar and sat down, not missing how the old stool creaked. One hundred years he had run this bar. One hundred years of moving around to hide his and his family's slow aging. One hundred years his Fineas had to learn about life and defending himself and his own destructive and healing abilities. One hundred years to learn about the short, temperamental nature of humans.
And to make matters worse, he could smell the aroma Elizabeth gave off when she was pregnant. He knew because it always made him anxious and up the wall horny no matter the circumstances. It was a scent that could never be duplicated.
Small, quiet footsteps came down the stairs.
"Dad?"
It wasn't Fineas, as he had expected, being a lighter sleeper than his sister.
He smiled, a drop of soothing falling into the brooding he'd fallen into. The small, delicate image before him illicited a wave of love no matter his mood. Unlike her brother, who looked like a blond mini-me of Elizabeth, Clara looked every bit like her father, green eyes and all. Ban often joked that he now knew Meliodas would make a stinking cute girl.
"What's up, sweet pea?"
Clara hugged her stuffed rabbit to her face. It would have been a threadbare scrap of fabric if it weren't for Merlin's magic and Elizabeth's care. The spotted rabbit had only recently become a resident of the bed rather than Clara's constant companion.
Which meant, if she was holding it, something had disturbed her greatly.
Meliodas leaned down on the stool and opened his arms. "Come on. Tell me what's going on. Do I need to beat someone up?" Ooooh, how he looked forward to the day when he could beat every unworthy man that even looked askance at her.
Clara shifted her feet, than showed her wet, large green eyes between the bunny's ears.
"You're going to leave us?"
A pang went through his heart. Of course she had to hear the worst part of that conversation.
"We're not leaving you, sweatie," he gave an inward sigh. "Mommy made that very clear."
Tears bubbled out from her eyes. "You want to leave me?"
"No! Never! Oh, Clara, please let me hold you. Everything's alright, I promise."
Only then did she cross the distance and threw herself into his arms. His perfect little mini-me.
"Then why—why did you—" she hiccupped from having held down the tears too hard.
"Because one day you and your brother will have to go into the world without us. Be like the humans, that's all."
"But we already have human friends."
"And if you've noticed, once they start growing up, we have to move so they don't notice that you aren't growing up with them."
Big sniff. "Why?"
"You know why. Remember what Big Auntie said?"
"People…humans get scared of different…at least a lot do."
He nodded in approval. "And then they can get mean. And…" he hesitated, wondering if it was too early to try and explain his and Elizabeth's misplacement in the world.
"You and Mom have to go home…huh? With the goddess and demons stuff."
That surprised him, but then it shouldn't. Clara had always shown an unnaturally quick wit. At least compared to the cackling imp her brother was at her age.
"Until we can find our own place," he said carefully. "Like the fairy's have their forest, and the giants have their land."
"But we have land."
"We have a giant pig," he said bluntly, which made her laugh wetly. She wiped her face across his shirt, leaving behind a shiny trail of snot.
"But we have a pig," she said, with a sad little smile only little kids forced to laugh against their will can have. "Mama Pig can be our land, right?"
"But what about when you get married and have babies? And their babies have babies? And Fineas has babies?"
She wrinkled her brow, whether in displeasure or confusion, he didn't know, until she said, rather forcefully, "I don't want babies, and Fineas is a jerk. I stay with Mommy and Dad forever."
He had to smile at that and stroked her golden hair much as he had with her mother.
"I'd love that. But you will probably feel differently when you're older."
"No I won't!"
Great. Now he had all the women of the house angry with him.
Meliodas heaved a sigh.
"Alright. Whatever you want. Do you need me to tuck you into bed?"
She nodded, and her loosened hold on the bunny spoke to her anxieties being appeased.
As he lifted her up, a single, white wing fluttered into being. She had two, but they were lopsided and uneven and often didn't appear at the same time. Fineas tormented her about that endlessly as he flapped above her head with his own gray. The little white wing fluttered as though it were made of air behind them as he took her up the stairs and into the bedroom she shared with Fineas.
The little bed he had carved for her cupped her close, like a giant's hands.
He kissed her head. "I love you."
"Love too."
With a smile, he left to make amends with Elizabeth. In a way, she was right. For better or for worse, they needed to stay for their children until their children didn't need them anymore.
And he couldn't help but hope that that day would never come.