Chapter Text

Requests FAQ

What requests are you taking?

I'm taking requests for drabbles based on Unmaidenly Conduct, Age of Icebound Stars, Age of the Chill Night, or any existing drabble (e.g. A Pack of Wolves).

How do I make a request?

Leave a comment on any of my works, including this one, containing your request. I'd prefer it if you left it on the work you'd like your drabble to be based on.

What should a request contain?

Your request must contain the general theme that you want to be at the heart of your drabble. Beyond that, you can go as detailed as you want. If you have an idea of how the plot progresses, feel free to send that. Same with details like a title for your drabble. Please also let me know whether you want your drabble to be SFW or NSFW (if it's NSFW, feel free to specify if there are any particular kinks or sex acts you want me to include). I'd appreciate it if you let me know whether it's a request or sub-request (the difference is addressed later in this section).

Is there a more private way of making a request?

I also have a Twitter and a Tumblr, both with the name oskifarouche. If you're not comfortable making a request in the comments, then contact me via Twitter or Tumblr. Let me know what name you want your request attributing to, or whether you want it to be anonymous.

Can I specify or change details about the Tarnished?

Absolutely. The Tarnished has minimal description so that people can imagine her however they want. And I'm very open to AUs where, for example, the Tarnished may have a specific physical sex/gender identity/orientation, or have a particular disability or condition. If you want the Tarnished to be a particular race, I can give it a shot, but please keep in mind that I'm not a PoC.

Can I include my fan-character(s) in my request?

Sure. I'll need a description of them (personality, backstory, appearance, that kind of thing), but I'm very happy to add fan-characters.
As far as I'm concerned, fan-characters for UC/APoW/etc. are canon, even if they're in a separate timeline.

Can I make a request based on Esoteric Mantra's Icebound series/characters?

Esoteric Mantra has given permission as long as your request doesn't contain anything illegal or squicky.

If you want to use any characters for Nemesis in your request you're free to do so, as long as Oski is fine with it and it doesn't cross from spicy to illegal or gross I'm fine with it too (I might even embrace some of the things you come up with if I like them, who knows?).

I consult Esoteric Mantra on Icebound matters so they'll have some say in requests, including whether they're accepted.

As an aside, the Tarnished in the Icebound series is NOT the same Tarnished from other UC or APoW works. UC/APoW's Tarnished is Lobo's mother, whereas Icebound's Tarnished is Lobo's ally and friend. Icebound's Tarnished is sometimes referred to as Twonished (i.e. Tarnished Two) to avoid confusion with UC/APoW's Tarnished.

Can I make a request set after the Age of Icebound Stars that's not related to Esoteric Mantra's Icebound series?

Sure. Your request can take place anywhere in the timeline and doesn't have to relate to any other drabble. If that means creating a timeline branch (e.g. for a fic that's set after Icebound Stars, but doesn't follow the Icebound route) then that's absolutely fine. Similarly, if you want a drabble that's a sequel/prequel/etc. to another drabble, that's also fine (ideally if the person who requested the original drabble is also okay with it).

Is there anything that you won't write?

I'm a little squicked by scat, watersports, that kind of thing. Also anything to do with urethras. I won't write abuse, with the exception of references to past abuse (basically I won't write the Tarnished abusing Blaidd etc.). I'm not a fan of angst or excess sadness - I'll write mild angst, but that's it. If you make a request that could be potentially triggering, then I may try to negotiate the details of it in order to lessen the risk of triggering other readers. If you make a request that I'm not comfortable with, please respect my right to refuse it.

How canon are drabbles?

As canon as you want.

How long will the drabble be?

My usual chapter length is in the region of 3-5k words, although a particularly involved request may lead to more than one chapter. Basically, they'll be as long as they need to be.

What's the difference between a request and a semi-request?

Priority, mainly. Requests are completed before semi-requests (if I've used the phrase 'sub-request' anywhere, it's the same as a semi-request). If you want your request switching from semi-request to request or vice versa, then let me know.

How long will requests take to complete?

I can't give an estimate on that, sorry. This collection will update as and when drabbles or chapters are completed, but sometimes life gets in the way.

Why hasn't my request been added to the queue?

I've either not seen it or forgotten. Sorry about that. Contact me and I'll get it added. If it was in the comments, I'd really appreciate it if you could link me to it.

Current Queue

If a request has a link, that request was made as a comment - the link will go to the relevant comment.

Current request queue (last updated 16th January 2024):

• Currently working on: (Blaidd/Tarnished, NSFW) Blaidd being reborn using Rennala's Great Rune to fully sever the connection between him and the Two Fingers - requested by SomeLurkerDude - Wolf Reborn (Part 1 here, currently working on Part 9)

• (Post-AoCN crossover with Esoteric Mantra's Icebound series (takes place after Orion and the Pleiades, probably later than Adonis but before Hephaestus), SFW) The Tarnished battles Godrick and inadvertently drags Lobo from his own timeline as an NPC Summon - requested by She is me, I am her
• (Blaidd/Tarnished, AU, NSFW) Private request - requester anonymous
• (Post-AoCN but with influence from Esoteric Mantra's AoIS sequels, SFW) AoIS-equivalent Lobo learning swordplay and horse-riding from his parents - requested by Sadness
• (Blaidd/Tarnished/Faolán, APoW!verse, SFW) The polycule meeting another Tarnished Empyrean and her shadow - requested by Thorn
• (Blaidd/Tarnished/Faolán, APoW!verse, includes DWWtHG, NSFW) Faolán topping Blaidd while the Tarnished watches - requested by Esoteric Mantra
• (Post-AoCN, SFW) Blaidd and the Tarnished tending to one child's first major illness while juggling their responsibilities to their other kids and the Lands Between - requested by Sadness
• (Blaidd/Tarnished/Faolán, APoW!verse, SFW) The polycule stumbling across an obscure demigod and her shadow - requested by Thorn
• (Blaidd/Tarnished/Faolán, APoW!verse, NSFW) A sequel to Faolán topping Blaidd, with Blaidd turning the tables and topping Faolán instead - requested by Esoteric Mantra
• (Probably SFW) AU in which Rennala is an Empyrean with her own shadow - requested by Gboxb321

Semi-requests (last updated 25th August 2023):

• (Blaidd/Tarnished, SFW or NSFW) Parts of Unmaidenly Conduct from Blaidd's perspective - requested by OwlCat (The reason this semi-request is at the top of the queue is because it was made before semi-requests were a thing, and since it wasn't a full request, it got left out of the queue. Now that semi-requests exist, it only feels right to put it back where it should be if semis existed at the time. Requests are listed in chronological order.)
• (Blaidd/Tarnished/Faolán, APoW!verse, SFW) Cute fluff with the Tarnished, Blaidd and Faolán polycule - requested by Esoteric Mantra
• (Blaidd/Tarnished/Faolan, APoW!verse, SFW?) Blaidd collaring, APoW!verse equivalent of Collar and Chain - requested by HaltMercurius
• (Blaidd/Tarnished, SFW) Blaidd becoming Maliketh-sized - requested by Thorn
• (APoW!verse, SFW) Blaidd and Faolán getting drunk together - requested by Devoured
• (APoW!verse, SFW) Ranni and Faolán playing chess - requested by Sadness
• (Lobo/Twonished, post-AoIS and part of Esoteric Mantra's Icebound timeline, NSFW) Lobo receiving oral sex from his Tarnished friend - requested by Esoteric Mantra
• (Blaidd/Tarnished(/Faolán if APOW!verse), modern AU of post-AoCN UC!verse or APOW!verse) Modern AU focusing on the Tarnished, Blaidd, (Faolán if APOW!verse) and their kids as a family, with the triplets being teenagers or young adults - requested by Sadness

Not requests, just me being a horny little simpleton (last updated 26th May 2023):

• (Blaidd/Tarnished/Faolán, APoW!verse, NSFW) Femdom-heavy impregnation/breeding roleplay(?) threesome including heat/rut
• (Blaidd/Tarnished/Faolán, APoW!verse, NSFW) Blindfolded role reversal threesome with simultaneous praise and degradation
• (Blaidd/Tarnished, post-AoCN, NSFW) D/s sex scene between Blaidd and the Tarnished, set an unspecified number of years after AoCN where they're both a little older, because being loving and sexually active is not only for young people
• (SFW) Something sympathetic with Maliketh
• (Post-AoCN, SFW) Blaidd being a cute dad when the pups are struggling to sleep
• (Post-AoCN, SFW) Elden Lord Tarnished visiting Medía on diplomatic/political business and taking the pups for a train ride
• (Blaidd/Tarnished/Faolán, APoW!verse, NSFW) Competitive edging with Blaidd and Faolán having their knots restricted
• (Post-AoCN crossover with Esoteric Mantra's Icebound series (takes place after Heracles and Prometheus), possibly in the same AoCN timeline as the previous crossover, SFW) Tarnished somehow encounters Lobo once more, much later in his timeline than before
• (Post-AoCN, SFW) Boc babysits the pups and tries to teach them about sewing

Completed Drabbles

As above, request links go to the comment where they were made. Drabble title links go to the drabble (or the first chapter of it, if it has multiple chapters).

Celestial

Request: Cute normal date in the Lands Between - requested by Me
Rating: General Audiences
Chapters: 1
Characters: Blaidd, Tarnished
Pairings: Blaidd/Tarnished
Other tags: Fluff, stargazing, astronomical liberties have been taken

Collar and Chain

Request: Blaidd collaring and leashplay - requested by Guest
Rating: Explicit
Chapters: 1
Characters: Blaidd, Tarnished
Pairings: Blaidd/Tarnished
Other tags: Established Dom/sub relationship, sub!Blaidd, gentle dom!Tarnished, discussion of BDSM topics, collars, collaring ceremony, leashes, cunnilingus

A Pack of Wolves

Request: Empyrean AU, with rivalry between Blaidd and Tarnished's own shadow - requested by Esoteric Mantra
Rating: Explicit
Chapters: 10
Characters: Blaidd, Tarnished, Faolán (OC)
Pairings: Faolán/Tarnished, Blaidd/Tarnished, Blaidd/Tarnished/Faolán
Other tags: Established Dom/sub relationship, sub!Blaidd, sub!Faolán, gentle dom!Tarnished, Tarnished Empyrean AU, cunnilingus, blow jobs, relationship mistaken for incest, masturbation, semi-public sex, accidental voyeurism, jealousy, blindfolds, hunting-related animal death, Elden Ring-typical temporary character death, implication of suicidal thoughts, threesome (M/F/M), double cunnilingus, double penetration, knotting, double knotting

Fit For Lords

Request:Blaidd getting some nice clothes tailored by Boc - requested by HaltMercurius
Rating: Teen and Up due to reference to fetish-wear, General Audiences otherwise
Chapters: 1
Characters: Blaidd, Tarnished, Boc
Pairings: Blaidd/Tarnished
Other tags: Established Dom/sub relationship, sub!Blaidd, gentle dom!Tarnished, Fashion Souls, influenced by late medieval fashion, in this house we make Boc more Cornish because it's what Calvin A. Dean would want, reference to fur used in clothing

Don't Wander Where the Hawthorn Grows

Request:Tarnished and Faolán involving Blaidd in a Fae roleplay, including double pegging - requested by She is me, I am her
Rating: Explicit
Chapters: 3
Characters: Blaidd, Tarnished, Faolán (OC)
Pairings: Faolán/Tarnished, Blaidd/Tarnished/Faolán
Other tags: Tarnished Empyrean AU, established Dom/sub relationship, sub!Blaidd, sub!Faolán, gentle dom!Tarnished, sexual roleplay, dark fairy tale elements, forniphilia/human furniture, face-sitting, pegging, brief violence as part of roleplay

No Light But Moonlight

Request: Not a request, but a 2023 birthday present for SomeLurkerDude using her character Lýkos
Rating: General Audiences (Teen and Up if you're sensitive to mentions of child death or the consumption of raw or cooked meat)
Chapters: 1
Characters: Lýkos (OC)
Pairings: none
Other tags: reference to child death

Chapter Text

It had been a few weeks since you agreed to help Blaidd track down the traitor, but it felt more like months. You weren't used to this kind of confinement. Usually, when you tired of a place, you moved on. You'd given the half-wolf your word that you would help him find Darriwil, and your sense of honour wouldn't let you leave Limgrave or abandon the task for too long until you delivered. So until you actually made some progress, you were stuck here.

Day after day, you pored over Limgrave and tried to tease out every last secret. You asked every soul you ran into if they'd heard of Darriwil or seen any suspicious characters about. You searched the countryside for traces of Darriwil's hideout, from caverns tucked into the tallest cliffs to forgotten chambers sunken under ruins. The quest consumed almost every hour of almost every day. It had gotten to the point where you kept hunting for him in your dreams. That only ticked you off even more. Nothing was worse than finding a clue to Darriwil's whereabouts - or even Darriwil himself - only to wake and find your subconscious had made the whole thing up. No, actually, there was something worse. It was worse when you got confused between dreams and reality and got mixed up on where you had already looked. You'd spend a whole day investigating some promising little nook only to realise you'd already exhausted the place nearly a fortnight ago. You'd skip an area that you thought you'd already been to, and then realise that you only recognised it from a dream. You were starting to hate Darriwil for it and you weren't even the one who'd wanted him dead in the first place. Crafty little bastard. Perhaps he knew that someone was trying to flush him out, and kept moving around. Or, more likely, he was never in Limgrave to begin with. One thing was for sure - you needed a break. The matter of Darriwil had worn you out both physically and mentally. If you could take a little time to yourself, give yourself a bit of breathing space, then you would return to the task refreshed and renewed. Getting your act together might even help you find the traitor faster.

You didn't know how to go about putting the task on hold, however. Giving up for even a couple of hours felt like letting your new comrade down. Guilt already weighed your stomach down heavily enough whenever you made camp at the end of a day with no new progress. You ran into each other every so often - not very frequently, but just enough that you worried he might catch you slacking off. He might understand if you explained the situation to him when you saw him next. Surely even he must experience burnout sometimes. But even if he wasn't angered by the suggestion of a hiatus, you hated the thought of disappointing him.

Thank the gods that you hadn't taken the day off after all. Blaidd found you that very afternoon. At least you could make your report with full honesty, rather than risk bluffing. Besides, turning round to find that huge wolfish figure approaching through the trees bolstered your mood no end. Just the sight of him kindled that little spark of warmth in your heart that he seemed to conjure up so effortlessly.
"Any news?" he asked.
"Not yet, sorry. I've spent all day in this area. There's nowhere for Darriwil to hide within a radius of, say, two miles from here. And there's been no new hearsay either."
"I see." Someone who wasn't used to Blaidd might have thought he hadn't reacted at all. You had gotten a little better at reading his lupine features with each encounter. You noted the slight dulling of his good eye, the tiniest crease between his brows, the twitch of a single muscle beside his mouth, the dip of his tail. You saw the disappointment in him, subtle but no less true for it. He cocked his head, his expression still stony as he looked you over.
"Forgive me for saying it, Tarnished." Had something in your posture betrayed that your spirit was flagging? Too late, you set your shoulders back and stood a little straighter. Hell, maybe you smelled of sweat and exhaustion. You braced yourself for his admonishment. "I wondered if we might postpone the mission, for but a single evening."
He... huh? You glanced up at him. Usually there was nobody more diligent than the half-wolf. You had no idea what had prompted such words from him. There was nothing in his face to tell you what he was thinking.
"Sure! As long as it's okay with you," you added hurriedly. Better not sound too keen to throw away your responsibilities, even if it was only for a few hours. "Why, though?" "There's something I would show you, if you were willing to accompany me."
"Where is it?"
"The Mistwood."
"And it's this evening, you say?"
He bowed his head. "If it is disagreeable, do not feel you have to."
Despite his words, there was a certain weight to his tone. He'd offered the opportunity to refuse with grace, but the way his voice caressed each word, dragged along them as if he hated to let them go until the last moment... You knew he'd rather you accepted. Whatever he had in mind, it must be important.
"No, I'd like to! I'm just thinking." You peered over his shoulder. The western horizon had grown pale, all colour draining from it as the sun began its evening descent. "It's getting a bit late. Can I make dinner first? If we're going to be out all evening, it'll get cold - we need a hot meal. Oh, hang on! Better idea. Let me make something we can bring with us."
"Fine." There was a flicker of something about the muzzle that might have been a smile, but it was gone in an instant. He turned his head as if to watch the sun set, even if that certain fogginess to his eyes suggested he was gazing right through it.

A Site of Grace lay within walking distance of where you had met. The spectral inventory there would give you access to all your equipment and ingredients. If you made your way over there, you'd be able to knock something together before the sun disappeared entirely.

Today had been crowned by bright spring sunshine in a clear sky, but as dusk drew in, the lack of cloud cover promised an unseasonably cool evening. The temperature was dropping already. A brisk breeze stripped out any pocket of warmth it found and chased away the few wisps of cloud at the edge of the sky. It would only get colder once the sun disappeared from the horizon. Knowing Blaidd, there might be a fair bit of walking tonight. You'd need something hot and substantial. Luckily, you'd faced plenty of cold conditions before and knew a reliable recipe by heart. You left Blaidd to prepare the filling as you made a pair of pastry coffyns then, between you, assembled them into pasties. While they baked by the fire, you divided a kettleful of spiced tea between two sealed flasks. That should see you through the worst of the evening chill. The moment the pasties were cool enough to not burn your skin, you stuffed them under your shirt. You shrugged at the quizzical look Blaidd gave you.

"Putting them in the bag is a waste of perfectly good heat. They keep me warm if they're in my shirt."

For some reason, Blaidd refused your offer to slip a pasty under his armour. Oh well. More warmth for you, even if the spots of toastiness nestled against your stomach were just a little greasy.

It didn't surprise you that whatever Blaidd wanted to show you was to be found in the Mistwood. Your first foray into the woodland had given you your first glimpse of him, howling beneath a night sky only a little darker than this one. There was something mysterious about the place, something grand yet lonely and just a little dark. You respected the dangers it held, but never feared its nature. On some level, to your mind, Blaidd was the Mistwood, and the Mistwood was him. His night-vision was better than any human's, and so you trusted him to guide you safely into the heart of the forest. You kept close to his heels, the rustle of feet through long grass almost drowning out the hooting of owls, the occasional howl of a wolf in the distance.
The sun had reached its own destination before the two of you reached yours. He'd led you to the very ruins where you had met. This wasn't right, was it? If he'd wanted to show you these buildings, you'd get a better view of them in daylight. Had he forgotten that you couldn't see as well in the dark as him? But the ruins were not his goal, not in themselves. He laid one hand against a dilapidated wall, his fingertips vanishing into a seam of crumbling mortar.

"Let us climb, Tarnished."
You hadn't forgotten your last attempt to scale the tower. You eyed the ruins as if they might collapse on you at any moment.
"Don't think I can. Tried it before, the first time I saw you here. The bricks started falling out as soon as I set any weight on them." He patted the wall beside him. "Many of the walls are treacherous, but the mortar is not so weak on this side. If you can reach that point -" He gestured to a spot partway up the tower. "- and then head diagonally a few feet, you will make the rest of the way with little trouble."

So there was a secret route up the tower. That made sense. After all, Blaidd had reached the top at least once, and he was far heavier than you. He stepped back and let you go first. As soon as you hoisted yourself up onto the wall, you felt a difference under your fingertips from your first attempt. This wall was far sturdier than it looked. Partway up, you could feel how crumbly the masonry was getting, hear chips of mortar and brick breaking away and plinking against the side of the ruins on their way to the ground. You clambered around the weak spot, heading diagonally as Blaidd had suggested, and sure enough it wasn't long before your fingers curled around the top edge of the tower. You pulled yourself up onto the wall and scooted over to let the half-wolf, who was a yard or so below you, follow you up.
You look around yourself. "Okay, we're here. Now wha- Oh..."

Beyond the clearing of the ruins, the Mistwood lay spread out below you like a carpet. Treetops swept across the horizon as far as the eye could see, rows of dark smudges and bristles set against the dusk. The moon hung just above them, not quite grazing the tallest trees. A full mood, huge and perfectly round, yet without the typical glow of moonlight. It hardly cast any light across the Mistwood at all. Its surface was not the silvery shine you'd seen so often over an evening camp, but a smoulder of red like a dying ember.
"A lunar eclipse," Blaidd told you in a voice as soft as the red moon's glow.
"You... you wanted to show me the eclipse?"
"This is among the best moon-viewing spots in Limgrave. I, uh, wanted to be sure that you saw it." His ears flicked and flattened a little at his words. This wasn't what you'd expected when Blaidd had offered to show you something. Perhaps that was why he looked a little sheepish.
"Thanks," you whispered back. You'd probably have noticed the eclipse for yourself at some point, but he was right - you couldn't think of a single place in Limgrave that would give you such a glorious view of the moon. "It's lovely, isn't it? A bit spooky, but it's lovely all the same."

The pasties were still weighing down your shirt. The coffyns has crumbled in a few places, bashed about as you climbed, but they'd survived the ascent remarkably well. You slipped the bundles out and handed one to Blaidd. Biting into it just enough to peel open the pastry, you began to eat the hot filling from it. The half-wolf followed suit. Each mouthful filled your stomach with warmth, but you still missed having that pocket of heat below your clothes. Even stuffing bits of pastry back into your clothing didn't keep you from shivering. Blaidd must have noticed, for he stopped eating long enough to hold out his cloak behind your back. You disappeared gratefully among the folds of fur, letting him wrap you up until only your head and the hand clasping the pasty were visible. His cape was every bit as thick and warm as it looked. You could have slept quite happily on it. The only thing that might have been better was... well. Your face flushed at the thought of it. Still, even if you'd never get the chance, you could admit to yourself how much you'd love to tuck yourself in beside him. Even better if he'd take off that armour and let you snuggle into his body. He must be so cosy with all that fur.

By the time you'd both finished your supper, the moon had lifted itself just a little higher in the sky. The trees seemed to be stretching after it in vain, but it lay even further from their reach. The gradient of the dusk sky had melded into a deep, sumptuous blue, from which the first of the stars glittered.
"There's the Lodestar," you mumbled to yourself. It was hard to miss one of the sky's earliest and brightest stars, the one you most often used to find where north lay.
Blaidd nodded. "The Dogtail. Brightest star of Kynoseren, the Hunting Hound."
You looked up at him from among your huddle of fur. "You know about constellations, then?"
"Only a few of them. If you find the Dogtail and follow it..." He pointed across the sky, where a smaller star glimmered some distance below the Lodestar. "...You can almost make out Lucanidae, the Beetle that snaps its pincers at the Hound's heels."
You yourself only knew enough about the stars to navigate by them. Most of the legends attached to the constellations had passed you by. You read the night sky like a compass, not a storybook.
"Could you tell me about them, then? I'd really like to hear more, if you're willing to share."

He summarised the tales of the Hunting Hound, its loyalty to its master that had seen it rewarded with its prominence in the sky. Apparently the Beetle Lucanidae and its heel-pinching ways only featured in a single legend. The stories were short - the way Blaidd told them, at least. Despite their brevity, you got the impression that he'd downplayed how much he knew, that he was a treasure trove with only the tiniest sliver of its lid lifted. You enjoyed yourself nonetheless. Then again, he could have said anything in that smoky murmur of his and you'd have relished it.
"Someone I grew up with used to tell me the old stories," he explained. "And Lady Ranni knows much about the stars, of course."
"I don't know many of the constellations by name," you admitted, "and almost none of the stories about them."
"I may have a..." Blaidd rifled through his bag. You leaned across to peer into it as he pulled out a square of parchment and unfolded it. "Ah. This is the small one. I have a larger star chart somewhere. You're free to borrow this, if you wish."
"You mean it?"
He nodded. Your fingers brushed against his as you carefully took the parchment from him and examined it. You'd long known that Blaidd was far kindlier than his battle-worn exterior suggested. He'd shown up at your camp a few times with the spoils of his hunts - a deer carcass here, a boar there. They were anybody's game, though. Offering to loan you his own star chart was much more intimate. The whole evening had shown you a side of him you'd never seen before. This hulking warrior of a half-wolf had a softness to him, an unexpected dreaminess, and yet you didn't doubt for a second that it was genuine. He wasn't putting on a mask for you, but taking it off. Perhaps you really were becoming friends. You sure hoped so, anyway. You turned your attention back to the star chart. The glow of the lunar eclipse, for all its beauty, was not well-suited to read by. You struggled to make out more than a few labels attached to the major stars.
"It's a bit too dark to read it right now, but I'd love to take a look another time. Thank you so much." You folded it up and handed it back. "I wish I had something for you in return."
"No need to repay me. Consider the dinner to be recompense, if that helps. Or, even better, if you find Darriwil before me."

Blaidd shifted the contents of his bag about so that he could return the star chart, slipping the parchment safely beside a book with a dark cover. A couple of times, when Blaidd had shared your camp overnight, you'd caught a glimpse of him reading. It was always once the two of you had retired to your bedrolls. Just before you fell asleep, you'd sneak one last look at him and find his nose buried in that black tome. You'd never been able to make out its title. He only seemed to read in bed, and he always laid out his bedroll some distance from yours. The letters on the cover were shiny, almost metallic, and the dancing firelight had reflected off them in a way that seemed to jumble them before your sleep-hazed eyes. But now, the movement of Blaidd's hand stuffing the star chart away had tipped the book back, and its gilt title reflected what little light there was.

Your eyes widened so fast that the muscles around them ached. A snort tickled through your nose and you did your best to disguise the sound as a sneeze as Blaidd closed his bag a little quicker than necessary. Was he seriously walking around with a copy of 'How To Pick Up Fair Maidens'? As if he needed any help on that score! Sure, maybe the half-wolf looked imposing - even frightening - to the untrained eye, but you'd think that once women got to know him they'd practically throw themselves at him. He was probably much better at picking up fair maidens than he thought he was. He... he must be interested in someone, then. Even if he was dedicated to finding Darriwil, he had a life of his own, one that you knew little about. There must be someone somewhere that he was trying to woo. Possibly his Lady Ranni. You still didn't know the depths of their connection, but it wouldn't surprise you if his love for her ran beyond that of servant and master. Well, good on him for knowing what he wanted and going after it. Whether or not it was Ranni, there was a woman out there with no idea how lucky she was. You only wished you were in her shoes. ...No, those sorts of thoughts weren't helpful right now. You weren't going to waste these precious moments with Blaidd on being jealous of some anonymous paramour. You could brood later. This was a lovely evening but it had to end sooner or later. You needed to stay in the moment. You needed to savour every second while it lasted.
You glanced up to find his eyes resting on you, his expression unreadable in the dim moonlight. You grinned up at him, and he offered you a small, almost shy smile in return. That little smile buried in that scruffy, scarred face of his made your heart glow even warmer than the cloak he'd wrapped around you. You snuggled deeper into the furs and pressed yourself as close to his side as you dared. If you were careful, you might be able to slip your arm through his. You threaded it round his forearm, navigating the folds of cloak carefully so that you didn't touch him. Ah, there you were. Much better. It was as close as you'd get to holding hands.

"Would you tell me another story about the stars, Blaidd?"
He shifted his weight, shuffling to get himself more comfortable. His elbow nudged you and he stared in surprise at where the bundled-up cape hid your entwined arms. He tilted his head away. You were never quite sure afterwards whether you imagined that his smile widened. You knew you didn't imagine the little huff of laughter under his breath, or the brush of rough fur as his arm slipped a little closer to yours.
"...By all means."

Chapter Text

There was no getting away from the fact that Blaidd was made for submission. In a very literal sense, the Two Fingers had crafted him - like all shadows - to be a perfect servant for his Empyrean. He was Ranni's beloved step-brother, her playmate in childhood, her sworn sword ever since he could hold a blade. The gods may have laid those duties upon his shoulders, but they were no yoke that weighed him down. He lived and breathed his devotion to his liege. He was the type to serve even if the Two Fingers had not ordained it; he proved that with his own submission to you. You couldn't fault him in the role he adopted so naturally. Even with that brattish spark to keep you on your toes, he embraced what you offered him and flourished under your guidance. You would never find a submissive more suited to you, neither in the Lands Between nor beyond. You meant every word of what you'd said about keeping him for as long as he'd have you.

How were you meant to show your devotion to him, though? Collaring him sprung most readily to mind. Collars had long been the symbol of the type of relationship you and he shared. It meant more than simply dominance or submission. It spoke of your commitment to each other, the trust you placed in one another. Plus you already knew how well he suited leather. Whether he'd agree to wear it was a whole other matter. Regardless of what it meant in your eyes, a collar was simply too reminiscent of a dog. It had taken Blaidd a few months to open up and let you see the scars he bore from old relationships. Many of his past lovers had been decent, but a handful had so craved a monster for a lover - and any monster would do - that they saw him as an accessory to adorn themselves with, a thing instead of a person. He might be a half-wolf, but he wasn't an animal. You would never fasten a reminder of those times around his neck. ...But it didn't have to be a literal collar he wore, right? Blaidd might agree to something else. Perhaps a piece of jewellery might serve as his own version of a collar.

You broached the topic with him one afternoon.

"Are you a jewellery kind of guy, Blaidd?"
He tilted his head to one side, a puzzled little crease on his brow.
"In what sense?"
"I've been thinking of having something made for you, but I don't know what you'd be happy to wear."
"Why have you been...?" He checked himself and shook his head. "Apologies, Ma'am. I won't question you."
"No, I want your opinion! You'd be the one wearing it! It has to be something you'd like."
"If you want me to wear something, I'll wear it. No matter what it is."
That eagerness to please was typical of him, but it got you nowhere. You'd done a lousy job of explaining, and he couldn't consent if he didn't know what you were asking of him.
"See, it's like... Uh..."
Blaidd crouched, bringing his head closer to your level. "Are you alright?"
Oh, this was ridiculous! You'd hardly even begun to speak about collaring and you were already getting flustered. You could talk about strap-ons, spreader bars and sensation play as if you were discussing how mild the weather was recently. Collars, though? Nope. Too loaded a topic. They meant too much, even without the worry of how he might react.
"I'm fine. What it is, is... a lot of Dominants like their submissives to wear certain things. They reinforce the sub's status as a submissive, they can symbolise that the sub already has a Dominant, and to some people it represents the arrangement between the Dominant and the sub. They have ceremonies for putting it on and everything. They treat it a little like... Well, it's a bit like a wedding ring, I guess," you admitted.

Yep, your cheeks were red-hot. Damn it all. You and Blaidd had been together for all this time, gone through so much, and there was an unspoken agreement that the two of you were mates for life. Every discussion of the rest of your lives, your plans for the Lands Between when you finally claimed the crown, spoke of you in plural. There was no notion of a future that didn't have both of you in it. Even so, the topic of marriage never quite came up. Whether there was a collar around his neck or a ring on his finger, or both, or neither - none of that would change the way you felt about him. They were merely symbols of the love that was already there. You didn't need to be married any more than you needed to collar him. The mention of it still sent a nervous little flutter through the pit of your stomach. Maybe... maybe Blaidd might actually like to get married some day...? You glanced up at him and averted your gaze immediately, suddenly shy of looking him in the eye. From the brief look you'd snatched at his face, his cheeks were a little red through the patchy fur.

He growled, a thoughtful rumble under his breath. "If something like that exists, then I'll wear it for you."
You mulled over how to word what the issue was. Just come out with it, plain and simple.
"What subs usually wear - well, you might not like it. It's a collar."
"As in a dog collar...?" His voice trailed off into nothing.
"Yeah. It's usually a collar, but it doesn't have to be. That's why I was asking about jewellery - maybe you'd like to choose something else that'd mean the same to us, but be more comfortable for you?"
He blinked. His eyes had dulled under his frown. "... I'll think about it, Ma'am."

You didn't prompt him for an answer. The act of collaring - even if he decided it wasn't to be a literal collar you placed on him - was a big decision. The most hardcore adherents of your lifestyle would argue that collaring a submissive was truly the equivalent of a marriage. It wasn't something to be entered into lightly. For all you knew, Blaidd might conclude that the whole thing was too big a step to take. You didn't want to hector him over it, to push him into something that he should consent to of his own free will. As long as you had his heart and he had yours, what did a bit of metal or a scrap of leather mean? It was the man you loved, not what he wore. So when a few days passed with no further mention of the topic, you quashed your curiosity. He'd tell you when he was ready, and whatever it was, you'd respect his decision.

It was the day after you'd made that promise to yourself, as the blue of the late afternoon sky ripened into the pinks and golds of evening, that he dropped to his knees in front of you.
"Ma'am?"
"What?"
"I'd..." He took a deep breath. One ear lay a little lower than the other, a slight flutter to it like he was trying to lift it upright. "I'd like to try something."
It wasn't unusual for him to approach you on bended knee, especially when he wanted to experiment. He'd grown more and more confident in his own sexuality over the last few months. Your arrangement provided a safe place in which to explore and broaden his horizons. He knew how unlikely you were to judge him, given how unorthodox some of your own tastes were. You accommodated him as much as you could, and the worst you would ever do to him was say no. It was rare of you to outright refuse something he suggested, and when you did you were careful to stress that it was only taking part in the act that you were uncomfortable with - it wasn't a rejection of him for being interested in it. So for him to still be apprehensive, it must be something big.

"What do you want to try?" His hands went to your waist. His fingers shook as he unbuckled your belt.
"You want to go down on me?" Surely that wasn't it. He'd been a confident pussy-eater right from the very start of your relationship. He'd never be nervous about that.
He shook his head and unthreaded your belt from your trousers, then held it up to you. You took hold of it, your eyes running along the leather strap. What the hell was he asking you to do with it? Your mind drew a complete blank. Unless he wanted you to...? Well, that was completely different to anything you'd done to him before. No wonder he hesitated.
"You want me to spank you with it...?"
His eyes flew open in alarm. His tail dropped so fast you heard the flump of it hitting the ground.
"Absolutely not," he spluttered, his cheeks almost crimson below the patchy fur. His fingers tightened on the belt like he was trying to draw strength from it, to steel himself for his next words. "No, not that. I've... thought over what you told me. If you would allow it, I'd like to try a collar."

Your breath caught in your throat. You scanned his face. There was a little twitch to one side of his muzzle, a hint of nerves, but his eyes were bright and steady. He knew exactly what he was saying. You'd told yourself that you'd accept his decision, but that was just to prepare you for his outright refusal. Your best-case scenario had been that he'd suggest a type of jewellery. For him to accept a collar was beyond your expectations. Your attention shifted to the belt in your hands. With your size difference, it must have reminded him of a big collar. So he wanted to wear your belt like a training collar, then? That would let him experience what it would be like, without having committed to it if he changed his mind. He'd thought the whole thing through - this was something he'd truly chosen for himself. Your delight spilled out into a grin you couldn't hold back, not when you turned your gaze to his face and saw that little smile fighting its way through his own expression. He honoured you with his trust in you, and in turn you would respect his wishes.

Blaidd tilted his head back, exposing his throat to you while you looped the belt around his neck. You were as careful with slipping the belt through the buckle as you had been when he'd first tried the wrist-cuffs. You ran a finger between the leather and his neck, just to check that neither his circulation nor his breathing were obstructed.
"How does that feel, Blaidd? Comfy?"
"I think so." He bowed his head as if he was trying to see the makeshift collar. One hand skimmed the leather curiously. His physical comfort was not the only thought on your mind. Making sure he could breathe was one thing, but even a collar of the lightest lace would be a burden if it caused him distress.
"Shall I take it off, or do you want to wear it a little longer?" You began to reach for the belt but froze when he leaned away, the buckle slipping from under your fingertips.
"I'd rather get used to it."

He wore your belt around his neck for the rest of the evening. His attention hardly left it. Every idle moment seemed to have him running his fingers over his throat, along the point where fur met leather and metal. He even drew his greatsword and held it before him like a looking-glass so he could inspect his reflection in the blade. You might have worried that this new restlessness was a sign of anxiety, had you not seen how his tail wagged when he looked over himself in the greatsword's surface. No, he wasn't distressed by the makeshift collar; he was fascinated by it. He kept it on during dinner, and you were pleased to note that he had no trouble eating or drinking. In fact, you wondered whether to remind him to take it off. When he readied himself for bed, however, he removed the belt with the rest of his clothing and returned it to you.
"Thanks, Ma'am."
"Was it still comfortable?"
"Once I was used to it, I almost forgot I was wearing it."
"Almost forgot about it?" you scoffed. "You hardly stopped admiring it! You were like a child with a new toy!"
"A fine one to talk," he retorted. "Chopsing as if you haven't been grinning at my neck all evening."
"Bah, fair enough. How do you feel about a real collar?"
"I'd wear it. But don't put yourself to any trouble for me, Ma'am; I'll happily wear the belt in its place."
"It's no trouble at all. There's a leatherworker not far from here. Other side of the Royal Capital. I've heard good things about their work. It sounds like they have a lot of experience in collars and other bondage gear. We should pay them a visit."

On your way to the Festival of Combat - how long ago that felt! - you'd met a travelling merchant who specialised in adult goods. You'd stumbled across her later in your quest, witnessed the guards shooing her caravan out of the city boundaries as you passed Leyndell, and renewed your acquaintance. Not only was she a valuable source in her own right, she knew a whole network of artisans and fellow merchants able to supply items she couldn't. This leatherworker was only one of her contacts.

One of Blaidd's ears twitched at your suggestion. "Might you not simply give them my measurements instead?"
Oh. For whatever reason, he didn't want to meet the leatherworker himself. Maybe he was embarrassed about being seen in such a place, or maybe it was the thought of what he might see there that flustered him.
"Sure, if that's what you'd rather." You examined your belt, counting along the holes and making a mental note of where you'd fastened the buckle. It had proved a good fit for him, so with any luck the leatherworker could use it as a reference. "Don't you want to be there to choose the materials or the design?"
"I'll leave that for you to decide, Ma'am. I trust your taste. Only don't make it too... ostentatious, eh?"
"You mean you don't want iron spikes and big letters spelling 'Future Elden Lord's Best Boy'?"
He gave no reply. His scowl, only half-jesting, was answer enough.
"Come on, not even 'Lands Between's Thiccest DILF'?"
"...Only if yours reads 'Lands Between's Chopsiest Dwt'," he muttered.
"Fine, fine," you laughed. "I'll keep it tasteful, don't worry."

Sure, maybe you were mischievous sometimes, but this was a precious item you were talking about. It was a symbol for your whole relationship - past, present and future - and he trusted you with the design like he trusted you with so much of himself. You didn't deserve to collar him if you were going to use it as a cheap shot at him. Besides, you'd be investing way too many Runes in this thing to dick about with it.

When your adventures took you back near Leyndell, you called upon the leatherworker, armed with your belt and a handful of strings. Blaidd had let you take some proper measurements of his neck, just in case the belt wasn't sufficient, and you'd tied knots in each string to mark out his proportions. The leatherworker would have preferred to see Blaidd in person, but accepted the strings as reference. They quizzed you on every little detail of the collar you wanted until you hardly remembered a world outside the leatherworker's shop. Despite that, coming up with a design proved fun. Part of you wished that Blaidd had been there to join in - he was the one who'd be wearing it, after all. He'd probably like what you came up with. You hoped so, anyway.

You could hardly wait to see it, but when you finally did, it took your breath away. It was exactly what you'd... no, even better than you'd hoped for. No wonder the travelling merchant recommended this particular artisan to you. You'd be coming here again. Your mind already swam with visions of what else you might need in Blaidd's measurements. Some proper wrist-cuffs for him, and matching ankle-cuffs of course. And other restraints, maybe a few items of clothing, even some toys... You'd have to persuade him to come here with you somehow. You'd run out of Runes before you ran out of ideas for what you wanted to commission for him, but Blaidd needed to be okay with it as well, and what better way to be sure of what he wanted than to involve him in the process? The leatherworker had been thorough in their questioning, but at the same time professional and discreet. Once Blaidd was in there, you figured he would soon become more at ease.
There'd be plenty of time for those sorts of thoughts later. For now, you had a collar to present.

You'd both dressed for the occasion. Blaidd had eventually decided to set aside his armour in favour of the sombre garb he worn beneath - the doublet and trousers of black leather, and the shirt with its almost invisible embroidery, dark thread vanishing among dark linen. The decision took you by surprise. Some armourer must have poured months, even years, into crafting Blaidd's plate, embossing and engraving all those intricate patterns into every inch. It was practically a work of art. More than smart enough for a collaring ceremony, surely?

"Armour suggests I might fight you," he'd explained when you questioned him. "How can I pledge submission when I'm dressed for battle?"

After hearing that, you'd foregone your own armour and tried to match him. The nearest piece of clothing you possessed was a gown of flowing silk, rich in needlepoint, its sleeves draping just past your wrists and its hem hanging to your ankles. Okay, maybe it was a robe you'd found on your travels - 'found' being a euphemism for 'took it off a corpse' - but you'd managed to get the stains out. It was the kind of thing that your parents tried to make you wear as a child, no matter how you kicked and shrieked. You certainly wouldn't wear something like this every day, not when you were forever climbing over rocks or wading through streams or hacking enemies to pieces. For a ceremony like this, though, a formal robe felt right. It had been worth wearing the thing and trying to do something with your hair for once, just to see Blaidd stopping dead, his bewilderment etched into every part of his face as his wide eyes combed over you.

"Ah." Once he'd gotten over his surprise, he offered you a soft smile. "Almost didn't recognise you, Ma'am."
"I don't blame you. It must be years since I last dressed up for anything. Just fancied matching with you, since you're wearing your doublet and stuff."
"You look... rather different. Lovely, but different. Not to say that you aren't comely in your usual state, but the effect is..."
"Different," you echoed, grinning up at him. You'd assume it was meant to be a compliment. "You look lovely-but-different too, big guy."

Blaidd's collaring was a private affair. No fanfare, none of the lavish celebration of a wedding - just you and him and the cloak of fog that obscured Liurnia from the moon above. Leyndell was so close to the Liurnian border that you wouldn't lose too much time returning to the Three Sisters. Ranni's Rise was a place that Blaidd in particular held dear; it seemed fitting to make another memory here. The two of you stood not within the tower, but just outside its entrance; the ceremony was to be held under the night sky.

"I wonder if Lady Ranni can see us from beyond the night sky," he murmured under his breath. The soft shine of his eyes mirrored the crescent moon he'd fixed his gaze upon.
"Perhaps so. She's probably been watching us all this time, waiting to see if I'll become a Lord fit for her order."
Many months had passed since Ranni vanished from the Lands Between, voyaging amongst the stars in search of her new order. You thought of her every so often, pondered whether her fortunes had waxed or waned like the moon. You'd never quite decided whether you liked her or not but you still respected her, and Blaidd would always love her enough for the both of you. If it made him happy to imagine Ranni looking over you with a half-smile of approval, you weren't going to spoil it. Personally, you'd rather that she didn't watch you collaring Blaidd. His stepsister had no place in your sex life. But you held your tongue for his sake.

"You understand the significance of what we're about to do, don't you, Blaidd? You know what this means?"
"I do, Ma'am."
"And you definitely want to do it?"
"There's little I want more."
That answer forced a shy little grin from you. "A collar isn't just a sign that you're my submissive. It also means that I'm your Dominant. It means I'm making a commitment to you. I promise to own you, to take care of you and protect you to the best of my ability. I promise to love and support you in any way you need. I promise it for as long as we're together, even if that's the rest of our lives. Would you accept that from me?"
"I would."
"And in exchange, would you commit to-"
Blaidd held up his hand to stop you. You blinked.
"I'd like to say something, if I may."

Had he planned his own vows? Much as you loved to listen to him, it wasn't easy for him to speak on matters of the heart. For that reason, you'd been prepared to offer up vows on his behalf, and simply let him accept or decline. His reticence had always made you cherish those times he'd laid his heart bare to you. And knowing that he wanted to speak now, wanted to make his pledge in his own words, sent a thrill of delight through you.

"G-go ahead!"
"Thank you, Ma'am."
He cleared his throat, and was that the hint of a gulp you heard?

"I had no idea upon meeting you what you would become to me. I took you for a half-feral Tarnished whose good spirit was almost overwhelmed by her lack of sense."
You gave him a playful scowl. Blaidd had such an artless way of slighting you that you were never sure whether he meant to do it or not.
You bit back the urge to defend yourself and let him continue, "But you proved yourself, time and time again. All the time we spent together in service to Lady Ranni, our travels across the Lands Between, the adversity we've overcome - there is nobody I'd rather have by my side through it all than you. I could have no better comrade, no better friend, no better lover and no better Dominant. You'll be Elden Lord one day, I know it. And when that day comes, I would be honoured to serve as your consort, if that would please you."
Your frown faded, your heart almost glowing with love for him as he spoke. By the time he reached the end, the edges of your vision had blurred with tears.
"I'd love you t-" He held up his hand again, and you fell silent.
"I promise to obey you and prove myself worthy of you. And I promise to love you. Nothing will ever change that."

You nodded to him, trying to blink your tears back in vain as they spilled down your cheeks.
Blaidd tilted his head. "Come here, Ma'am."
He crouched and nudged your chin upwards with his hand, turning your face towards his.
"Don't cry," he whispered as he kissed one tear-track. His tongue flitted against your cheek and you tried to duck, almost laughing at the ticklish feel of it, but he held your chin fast and licked the other cheek dry. As dry as something could be licked, anyway. "Is that better?"
"Yeah, thanks."

You cleared your throat as he let go of your jaw and straightened up. "So. Will you accept my collar as a symbol of the vows we've made?"
The smile he gave you, a ray of sunshine from that battered storm-cloud of a face, almost started you crying again. "I will."

You held up the collar to let him look it over for the first time. You'd drawn your inspiration for its design from what he usually wore beneath his armour - what he was wearing right now, in fact. Dark and practical, its beauty a whisper rather than a scream for attention. One thick strap of black leather overlaid by a thinner one, forming a double band sturdy enough to stand up to the rigours of everyday life. It was dotted by rings from which to attach leashes or tags, made of a dark metal that matched his armour. Your fingers brushed the inside of the collar. Smooth lambskin met your touch, a leather that was both easy to look after and gentle enough not to rub bald patches into his fur. The leatherworker knew their craft well - all those questions, all those Runes, were worth it for something of this calibre. Blaidd examined it in silence. You held your breath. You'd been confident that he'd like it; you couldn't see anything that he might object to. He wasn't going to hate it, right...? Something in his eyes softened as he turned his attention back to you.
"Thank you, Ma'am," he breathed. "I'd have worn it for you no matter how it looked, but thank you for making it subtle."
"You're welcome."
"Are you to place it on me, or do I do it?"
"No, I'll put it on for you."

Blaidd knelt, bowing his head to bring it closer to you. You ran one hand down his neck, fingers smoothing through the thick fur. He closed his eyes and tilted his head, trapping your hand between his neck and his jaw. With a giggle you sank your fingers into the undercoat and petted along his throat. His pulse throbbed against your fingertips in a rhythm that was strong yet settled. Pounding not with fear, but anticipation. You draped the collar around his neck and slipped the strap through the buckle. The dark band made a striking contrast with his grey fur, yet it matched his doublet so closely that it might have been part of the same set. Your fingers quaked with excitement, making you fumble as you tried to fasten the buckle. Blaidd wrapped his hand around yours to steady it, but you felt a little tremor in his own fingers. His eyes were bright and the corner of his mouth was twitching. He was doing as poor a job of masking a smile as you were, and so you gave up trying to hold in your grin. You were beaming as you slipped the prong into place and ran your finger under the collar. It fitted beautifully - not too loose, and definitely not too tight.

"If you want to take it off every now and again, especially while you're still getting used to it, just let me know. I'd like you to wear it for as long as it's comfortable, but you do have to be comfortable with it."

The edge of the collar would be visible above his gorget, but his fur cloak would obscure it. Even if hints of leather peeked out from under the cloak, its dark tone would help it blend in amongst his armour. It was a discreet thing, with only one addition that might catch the eye. You took it from your pocket and held it out. Blaidd stared at the object laid in your palm - a tiny padlock in the shape of a heart.
"The padlock's part of the symbolism, but you don't have to wear it if you don't like it."

There was a quiet chuckle, almost a bark under his breath, as he took the padlock and turned it over in his fingers. His thumb-pad skimmed along the edges of a gemstone embedded in its surface. You weren't sure whether he'd ever seen one of its kind before. Most people would consider the cloudy little stone too dull, too coarse to set into jewellery, but you'd chosen it on purpose.
"It's a chip of uncut diamond," you told him. "A rough diamond. You accepted me for how I am, and I accept you how you are. You don't mind, do you?"
"How could I mind that?"

You threaded the shackle through the metal loop at the front of his collar, but didn't click the padlock shut. It dangled from the collar as you reached down the front of your gown. Your fingers found the long loop of chain you wore around your neck and drew it out from the dress. In the centre of the chain, dangling like a pendant, hung a key. There was no mistaking it for anything but the match for the padlock, not when its bow was heart-shaped and bore another stud of rough diamond.

"If I put the padlock on you, you can't take it off. There are two keys, and they stay in my possession at all times. The lock's only on a ring, not around the buckle - you can still take the collar off whenever you need to. But if you come to me and ask me to remove the lock, it means that you don't want to be my submissive anymore."
You didn't think he'd ever ask for that, though, and the flicker of shadow that passed through his face told you he shared that belief.
"Can I put this on you as well, Blaidd?"
"Please." He lifted his head, granting you as much access to the collar as possible.
You lined up the shackle with the rest of the padlock, took a deep breath, and pressed them together. Clink. It seemed far too loud for such a dainty padlock. The noise engulfed the air around you for a moment, then faded amidst a thump-thump-thump. You knew that muted scuffing sound well enough by now, but you still couldn't resist standing on tiptoe and looking over his shoulder to watch his tail wagging across the ground. You smiled and bumped your forehead to his, closing your eyes as he nuzzled you back.
"Guess you're mine now," you teased under your breath.
"I was already yours," he whispered back.

He was right - he was yours. Blaidd had been yours for over a year, but now it was undeniable. That collar, discreet as it was, called to you from around his neck even days later. You could barely keep your eyes off it, or your hands for that matter. Not just to check for signs of discomfort, either physical or emotional, as he got used to it. No, you relished the sight of it around his neck, the texture of leather amidst his fur.
Blaidd seemed to enjoy it on a similar level. He took to running his hand over the leather band just as he did with your belt. At first you'd worried that it was digging into his flesh - he had previous form for keeping quiet when he was suffering. Lifting the collar just enough to peer at his neck underneath, you found no rubbed-thin fur, no swelling or tenderness. Like you, he'd simply been touching the collar for the pleasure of finding it there. The heart-shaped padlock became a particular favourite to trace his fingertips over, fidgeting with the rough diamond above the keyhole. You sometimes did the same with the key, and the chain that still hung around your neck. Between them, they were a reminder of everything you'd promised each other. You found yourself getting almost giddy when you thought about it too long. Even Blaidd would get a sheepish little smile whenever you caught him stroking the collar. You were like a pair of newlyweds still in their honeymoon period.

He wore the collar at all times. You'd even told him off for wearing it while washing. That thing hadn't been cheap, and you didn't want water spoiling the leather. He'd conceded the point on that occasion. He didn't bathe as often as a human anyway - he'd need to take it off so rarely that he didn't mind too much. He wasn't so easily persuaded on other matters.

"Take that collar off," you'd told him as you settled down to sleep on him.
"Must I?"
"Yes. You might suffocate."
"With all due respect, Ma'am, I'm your bed. It's service. I should wear a collar when I serve you."
"That's...!" You floundered. "Beds don't suffocate! You can't serve me if you can't breathe!"
"Let me wear it one notch looser for sleep, then."
You almost agreed to it, but realised something just in time. "If the collar's too loose, it might snag on something and strangle you."
"It shan't catch on anything while I sleep; there's nothing for it to catch on."
The stubborn wolf wasn't going to budge; you weren't going to win this fight no matter what you did. You sighed, unable to think of any more counterarguments. You were as concerned about keeping him safe as he was about keeping you happy. If he was so sure he wanted to sleep in a collar, you'd let him - but only if you were sure it wouldn't cut off his airflow. You snuggled into him, pretending to fall asleep so that he would drift off too. As soon as he did, you opened one eye and listened to his breathing. Deep and slow. No different from usual. Okay, that was good. You woke up a few times throughout the night, and every time you found Blaidd breathing perfectly well. You supposed that if it didn't halt his breath during the day, it might be safe at night. Fine, he'd get his way this time. He was a spoilt brat sometimes, but most of his spoiling came from indulging his desire to be perfect for you. As long as he wasn't harming himself in the process, it was difficult to fault him for trying too hard.

The leather band was not just a pleasure in its own right. Having Blaidd in a collar lent itself to certain other activities.

You'd never changed the signal to start or end a scene from the finger snap you'd first agreed on, the gesture which had brought you together so long ago. Blaidd had anticipated a certain derision from his merchant friend if Kalé ever found out what use the pair of you put the finger snap to. That problem was averted by simply not telling him. The two of you had discussed using a different gesture once you thought of something, but over a year had passed and you were no closer to finding a new signal than you were back then. So, as with every scene past and every scene in the foreseeable future, the sound of snapping fingers broke the silence before you clipped the leash onto Blaidd's collar. It consisted of a chain, much like the one around your neck but on a far larger scale, long enough that Blaidd could stand upright without the leash yanking on his throat. The chain ended in a looped handle, dark leather with lambskin lining to match the collar.

"'Red' to stop, 'yellow' to do something else, 'blue' to take the leash off," you reminded him, even if after all this time the safewords were already seared into his mind.

You would both benefit from a bit of practice. For you it was an opportunity to learn how hard to pull on the leash without hurting him, how you might comfortably guide him in whatever direction you wished. As for him, he'd learn how to respond to that guidance.

You gave the leash a little tug, the chain clinking as it pulled taut. Blaidd lowered his head. You bunched the excess leash up in your palm so that he couldn't move too far away, shortening the amount of chain left slack until he was forced to kneel, his head at the same height as yours. You hooked your other hand through his collar and held it in place as you kissed him.
"What a good boy," you murmured. "How did that feel?"
"Fine, Ma'am."
You straightened one finger to brush coaxingly against his throat.
"Let me know if it hurts, okay?"
"Will do."

Slipping your hand out of the collar, you pulled the leash and steered Blaidd's head a few inches south, then yanked just enough for his muzzle to meet your neck, just enough for bristly fur and hot breath to send a shiver through your sensitive skin. He pressed his mouth to the juncture between your neck and shoulder, kissing you before dragging his tongue as far up the side of your throat as the leash allowed him. Your breath caught, and his ears pricked up. Eager to steal another sound from you, he mouthed as your neck. Fangs dug into you as his tongue swiped at the base of your neck in an open-mouthed kiss. Gods, he was too good with his mouth sometimes. Good, but presumptuous. You pulled him away. His head tilted, ears drooping self-pityingly as you stared him in the eye. You couldn't keep a straight face at the sight of such a sorrowful little expression. Bursting into a fit of giggles, you guided him to the same spot on the opposite side of you. He nuzzled into your neck and lathed that side in the same affections. You granted him a few meagre seconds of kissing and licking your skin before pulling him back up with a jangle of the chain.

"You're not doing anything wrong," you told him. "But part of the training is learning to do what I want, when I want. That includes letting me move you away even if you don't want to."
You drew the leash towards you, Blaidd's head following inch by inch until you were close enough to kiss him - which you did.
"You're doing well so far. Let's see if you can keep it up. Now, I want you to undress me. No using your hands, big guy. Just your mouth."

His cheeks flushed and his ears flattened, but perked up again when he looked over your outfit. You'd been kind to him; you'd dressed with exactly this activity in mind. There were no complicated fastenings to negotiate, not even a single button. You'd given him nothing more difficult than strings tied in the loosest of knots. You lowered his head to the front of your shirt, leaving the leash slack to let him move. A row of lacing crisscrossed from your neckline to below your breasts, pulled tight to give the blouse a more shapely fit. Blaidd caught hold of the knot in his mouth. It took him a few seconds to get the end of one cord between his teeth, and you felt a series of tugs through your shirt as he worked the knot free. He let the strings drop from his mouth, where they hung against the fabric. He wrapped his lips around one cord and jerked his head. It took a few tugs for the lace to slip free and let itself be drawn out through the eyelets. Blaidd let go of the lace and caught hold of it higher up so he could keep pulling, until finally it came completely free from your shirt, trapped between his teeth. The loosened neckline billowed over your chest. In a show of letting the string drop from his mouth, you noticed him blatantly peeping down your shirt, but you didn't even bother telling him off for it. After all, your consideration in dressing had extended to your undergarments - you hadn't bothered to wear anything below your blouse. Blaidd dipped his muzzle to your waist and took the hem between his lips. The fabric skimmed over your skin as he got to his feet, straightening up just enough to raise the blouse over your head.

"Very good." You slipped your arms free of it and dropped the garment behind you. You bunched up the leash once more and yanked it, forcing him to stoop once more until his head was level with your breasts. You let him linger there for a few moments, his eyes fixed on the rise and fall of your chest, mouth close enough for his breath to warm your skin. Just as you were about to pull him towards you, there was a flash of movement at his mouth. His tongue flitted out and skimmed against the underside of one breast. He didn't have your permission for that.
"No! Bad!" You pulled his head away, your words underscored by a rattle of chain. "You're not to touch my skin unless I bring your head into contact with it myself, you hear me?"
"Sorry, Ma'am."
He may be sorry, he may still be learning, but he had to know his behaviour had consequences. You brought his head back in, maddeningly close to your skin but still not touching it, and made him wait a little longer. Then you added a few more seconds for good measure. He stared up at you, and you heard the faintest of whines under his breath.
"Just be patient." You kept your voice kindly after that last admonishment, even as you added another three seconds to his penalty for whining.

Finally you drew his muzzle to your chest and he nuzzled into your cleavage as if he was trying to hide himself in there, peppering kisses across every bit of skin he could reach. A growl of lust vibrated against your flesh. Making him wait to touch you, however briefly, had almost driven him frantic. Much too keen. A hungry little half-wolf. You steered him over to one side and pressed him against your breast. His teeth scraped over your skin as he closed his mouth around your nipple, lips and tongue-tip teasing at it. You tried to lead him away, and he obeyed. His fangs had latched around your nipple, however, and the tug before he managed to let go sent a jolt of pleasure through your body.
"A little gentler this time," you murmured, directing him to the other breast. He began his attentions anew, but remembering your instruction he treated you with more tenderness. His tongue ran leisurely along the curve of your breast, ending with a flick at your nipple before he brought his lips to your skin and sucked at a small patch of flesh. You knew exactly what he was up to - this obsession was one of your earliest discoveries about him.

"You want to leave marks, don't you? You want to see my skin covered in bruises and love bites?"
"If you'd let me," he purred into you.
Good answer. You'd half-expected him to simply say 'yes'. But he knew that it was a privilege you granted him, not a right. Just because you were generous with your boons didn't mean you would simply hand them out whenever asked.
"Let's get a little more training done first, okay? If you please me, I'll let you mark me."
He nodded, and with a jangle of the leash you pulled his head down.

His tongue trailed down your breast, down the centre of your midriff as you led him to your stomach. You drew the chain in, cupping the back of his head in your free hand so that his muzzle pushed into your belly. He blinked but kissed your stomach anyway, then lapped across the expanse of skin. Your stomach was a difficult place to leave marks, and it wasn't exactly an erogenous zone for you. If anything, you were trying not to laugh at the ticklish sensations left behind by his breath, the swirl of his tongue, the press of that cold nose. This wasn't something that either of you would get much out of, but that was the whole point. Teaching Blaidd how to be guided to places he actively wanted to play with was not the way to train him. You'd just spoil him even more by doing that. He had to learn to do what you wanted even if there was nothing in it for him but the pleasure of serving you. If you wanted his mouth on your stomach - or anywhere else, for that matter - then he was to submit to your wishes and he would thank you for it. You fought back your giggles as he mouthed at your abdomen. It still tickled, but you tried to ignore it and instead basked in the sight of such an obedient half-wolf, practically on his hands and knees for you.

Your grip on the leash relaxed and you set your hand between his ears to push his head down. His eyes visibly widened as you raised your hips and pressed his head between your legs. He almost chewed the knot out of the drawstring at your abdomen, impatient to expose more of you to him. You watched him bite into the waistline of your trousers and drag the fabric down your hips and thighs with his teeth. Once your trousers were a bundle of fabric around your knees, you stepped out of them while Blaidd busied himself with your underwear. Even your smalls were the kind that tied at the hips. Two more knots, one final barrier between his mouth and where he most wanted it. He mouthed along your hip and tore at the string in his eagerness. You felt a couple of stitches snap somewhere in the fabric. He pulled open the second knot and let the fabric drop from his mouth. He licked his lips and dove between your legs. You weren't even sure your underwear had time to land on the ground before he ran his tongue in a long line up your folds... a line that passed over your stomach again as you pulled him up your body and away. When he realised you were only giving him a teasing little taste of you, one ear flattened and he gave you a quizzical little frown. At least he remained silent - he must have known that his previous whimper had added to his time-out.

"Everything okay, Blaidd?"
He paused, then nodded.
"You don't need a safeword?" you prompted.
"No, Ma'am. I thought that I'd displeased you."
You kissed the tip of his muzzle, and his tongue darted over your lips.
"I think you might have torn my underwear a little. If you have, I expect you to sew them up again. But it'll take worse than that for you to displease me. I just want to be thorough in your training. I've got the best man in the Lands Between and he's worth training right, because I know he can do it."
He gave a flustered little huff, his gaze dropping as he failed to fight back a smile. You grinned at him. His confidence had grown in some ways since you'd known him, yet he still struggled a little with compliments. You pressed another kiss to his nose.
"He's still got a little more training to do, just to make sure he's the good boy I think he is. I mean..." You jangled the chain to get his attention and drew it slowly through your fingers, preparing to guide him downwards once more. "It's nice to have you up here, but shouldn't your mouth be on my pussy right now?"
Another huff. "It... it should, Ma'am. If that's what you want of me, at least."
Oh, that was a good answer too. He was learning so well.

His head followed your hand as you moved the leash down your body. The bristly fur of his muzzle brushed over your skin, dipped through the line of your cleavage, skimmed over your stomach, down to where you most wanted to feel his mouth. He closed his eyes and teased his tongue along the folds of your pussy. No matter how often he did this for you - too many times to count by now - you'd never tire of it. How could you get bored of a tongue the length of a human hand? Or fangs that knew just how to scratch along your skin, nipping at your flesh without spilling a drop of blood? Lips that actively sought out your clit for the enjoyment of kissing or sucking on it? You'd never be able to let a mere human go down on you again. He nuzzled into you. His tongue disappeared between your folds to flick teasingly just inside your entrance, then skim upwards to rub over your clit. Your cheeks were burning, your heartbeat pounding in them almost as strongly as the throbbing between your thighs. Blaidd's natural ability, already enough to put anyone you'd ever met to shame, was matched only by his sheer love for eating you out. You felt as well as heard the rumble of his purr among the sounds of his lips and tongue working at your pussy. Your hand sank into the fur between his ears, caressing him and holding him closer in equal measure. He glanced up at you and pressed a kiss to your clit in response. Even if the angle didn't allow you to see his mouth, you could read his smile in his eyes. His tongue flitted back to your entrance and began to curl into you, began to slip inside you. You granted him a mere second of tasting you before pulling him away. Not the slightest protest from him. Even though he'd been interrupted just as he tried to bury his tongue in your pussy, he withdrew it and let you lead him back up your body. Your own wetness had already dripped a glossy sheen onto your inner thighs, and the edges of his muzzle were sticky with it.

You guided his mouth up to your neck, tilting your head back to reward him with unfettered access to your throat. He seized it like the gift it was. He kissed along the front of your throat, then switched his lips for his fangs. Twin rows of fangs sank into your neck - deep enough to cast his teeth in shadow, hard enough to tear a gasp of pleasure from you, yet not quite hard enough to break the skin. A dab of wet tongue on your throat. He sucked on the mouthful of flesh, kneading it with his tongue. A growl rumbled from between his teeth like a roll of thunder, the vibrations of it trembling through your skin with each breath. He let go and lapped at the sore spot he'd left behind - a sizeable love bite, by the feel of it - before taking another mouthful a little higher up. You couldn't fight the little moan that slipped from you, or the not-quite buckle of your knees, at the feel of those teeth closing on your skin, those sharp yet careful fangs that held you in place as he lavished your throat with another of the marks he so loved to leave on you.
The moment he let go, you steered him to the other side of your neck. It was no good only having him mark one side, after all. It would look much better if it was symmetrical. You wanted a matching set. You held no qualms about letting people see just how worked up you got your half-wolf. His mouth savoured you, toyed with you, worshipped you. Every touch of his tongue, his teeth, his lips on your skin racked your body with a new burst of pleasure. Okay, you needed that talented mouth on your pussy again. You yanked on the leash and drew his head away.

"Good boy..." you cooed, your voice a little shaky as you moved him down until he was on his hands and knees once more, muzzle hovering an inch from your pussy. "Such a good boy for me. You've earned this."

With that, you pulled him in and brought your hips forward to meet his mouth. His tongue swept over your slit, then dug in to flutter against your clit. Your eyes fell closed. Your head dipped, suddenly too heavy for you to hold up. Your whole body felt like it was being slowly sapped of strength. Everything concentrated around your abdomen, the familiar tension building there. Your toes curled as that similar sense of tightness rose through your feet, coursing along your shins and up your legs... Fuck Blaidd and his wretched, wonderful mouth. What business did he have being able to get you off the way he did? He knew exactly what he did to you. Already the smug bastard was wagging his tail as he nuzzled into you again, his lips teasing against your clit. His jaws opened wide and he wrapped his mouth around your pussy. It always looked a little strange from up here, as if he was literally trying to eat you, but it made his favourite trick much easier. His tongue twitched against your entrance before he managed to slip it inside. You gasped at the feel of it snaking into you inch by inch, following the curve of your depths until the tip of it brushed a spot that made you shudder. You swore, but it came out as little more than a hiss between your gritted teeth. You wouldn't be able to take much more of this. A human could never hope to match him. A human could never tongue-fuck you the way Blaidd did. His tongue curled just enough to let him press against your G-spot, rubbing it firmly with his tongue-tip. Your whole body trembled. Your own pulse pounded in your ears. You opened one eye and found the bastard - your bastard, your lovely bastard who wore your collar and worshipped your pussy as if the Two Fingers had created him for that purpose alone - gazing up at you.

"You're - you're enjoying this, aren't you...? You love watching m-me come undone, d-don't you?"
The corners of his muzzle lifted, the twinkle in his eyes still clear even when they almost closed. Damn him, having his tongue stuffed inside you didn't stop him from grinning. You sank both hands into the thick fur on the back of his head and held on tight, burying that self-satisfied face between your legs and grinding your hips against him.
"If you weren't so - fucking good at this, I might order you to... to wipe that smirk off your face..." you panted. That tongue glided along your inner walls as it withdrew as far as it could without Blaidd pulling his mouth away from your skin. A little nudge against your hands, Blaidd's head bumping you, and he paused. For a moment you thought he might try to duck out of your grip. But he did the opposite. He pressed in even closer and his tongue plunged back into your depths, the torturous caress beginning anew.
"Fuck, you little - ! Such a... perfect little pussy-eater for me...!"

You were helpless. That mouth of his had forced you to the very brink of your limits. There was nothing left but for him to make you surrender to the pleasure that threatened to overpower you at any moment. And with a little more pressure against your G-spot, a few more skilful strokes at your too-sensitive flesh, he did exactly that. Your fingers clenched in his fur, and around the leash you still held bunched up in one hand, hard enough that the rolls of chain left imprints in your palm. You almost slumped over his head as you came. The absolute - bastard - too talented for his own good - so obedient - your tamed wolf - your good boy - the love of your life. You might have been calling him all of those things, you might have called him none of them. For those few seconds, nothing reached you through that all-consuming wave of bliss, not even the sounds coming from your own mouth.

It wasn't until you returned to your senses, your breath shaking and your heart fluttering like a bird, that you noticed coughing from between your thighs. Shit, had you choked him? You dropped the leash and snapped your fingers. Blaidd sat up, clearing his throat as his fingers slipped under the collar.

"Let me take it off," you offered. He shook his head. "Just so you can breathe. It can go straight back on if you want."
You tried to loosen the collar, but Blaidd took hold of your hand before you managed to open the buckle. He fidgeted with it, feeling for where the holes were, and fastened the buckle through a looser notch. Now the collar sagged around his neck, more like the drape of a necklace. You looked below the leather but saw no obvious damage to his throat. There was no worn fur from chafing, and you saw no evidence of swelling. Cautiously you ran your hand through his fur, fingertips barely brushing his skin. Again, there was no swelling to meet you, and he didn't flinch at your touch so his skin probably wasn't sore. Blaidd coughed again, his breath soon returning to normal.
"You okay, love?" you asked.
"I believe so. It was... It was when you came. You held the leash too firmly; it pulled the collar tight around my throat. "
"Fuck, I'm sorry. That was a total accident. Are you okay now? Does it still hurt?"
He massaged the sides of his neck. "The pain's all but faded. It needs only a little time."
"I'll be sure to drop the chain when I'm close and just hold the handle. If for some reason I don't, you've got my permission to take the leash from me, or unclip it from your collar, or even take the whole collar off. Don't waste time asking me if you can - just do whatever will let you breathe."
"I will if I need to, Ma'am. My thanks." His mouth met yours in a gentle kiss.

Well, that training session served it purpose splendidly. Blaidd took well to having you direct his head where you wanted him, once he got used to it. And you'd learnt something important about handling the leash safely. You'd have to be more careful in future. Because you definitely wanted to leash him again - the thought of it almost had you licking your lips - but it depended entirely on whether Blaidd would consent. You were just glad that you hadn't hurt him more seriously. Still, you would tend to him as part of his aftercare. Speaking of... You nudged him and nodded towards the waiting campfire.

"Come along. You might feel better for a cup of tea."

Chapter Text

Oh, how your parents had crowed when they discovered their child was an Empyrean! Anyone would have thought they'd had some say in the matter! It was not some divine reward for praying hard enough, nor a sign that the gods esteemed them over their neighbours. Your potential to become a new god was a fluke of birth, or rather a random act of the Greater Will. It was the height of vanity to assume that humans could influence the Greater Will into bestowing such a boon. The truth was that your parents had done as little to bring it about as you had.
But to see the way they paraded you about your home village like you were already a deity, tried to fill your head with pretension and snobbery as if you were some noble-born brat... It had always sat ill with you, but as soon as you were old enough to understand what was going on, you were sickened by it. You were a kid! An ordinary kid born of ordinary parents in an ordinary village, and yet your parents had tried to raise you to despise the world you were born into, to look down upon those you longed to befriend. How would that benefit a deity? Did your parents even care about you other than the chance that you might be the next god? They never seemed to think much of you as a person. Whatever you did, it wasn't enough. You were too wilful, too wild. You didn't put enough effort into your studies or your etiquette. Your feminine virtues were sorely lacking. If you had not been an Empyrean, you would have been a disgrace. Because you were an Empyrean, however, you were a status symbol. You were something brought out to be shown off for others - something that was loved only for the envy it caused. You were loved because you inspired hatred. Well, that wasn't what you wanted. The more your parents tried to set your feet on the narrow, restrictive path they'd laid out for you, the more you kicked at their hands. Frankly, if it weren't for your status then you'd have gotten yourself thrown out years before. It had taken the incident for you to finally break away. You didn't stay long enough to find out whether your family would still have kept you even after what you'd done. It was no longer safe there. Not for you, not for your parents, and even less so for your shadow.

That was all in the past. Your life was made on the road now, yours and Faolán's. You may have lived like vagabonds all these years, but you were not completely aimless. Your wanderings were directed towards the Lands Between. While you hated your upbringing, you had not rejected every fact of your identity. You were both a Tarnished and an Empyrean. For generations your people had passed down tales of the Elden Ring, that relic that would one day return to Tarnished hands. And as an Empyrean, the gods themselves had deigned you worthy. Who could have a better claim to the title of Elden Lord than you?

Only recently had you found the way into your promised realm. The Lands Between were spread before you like a feast. The southern region into which you and Faolán had emerged - Limgrave - could not have suited you better if you had designed it yourself. A luscious landscape, the best of spring and autumn at once, gold-clad trees sheltering cliffs and rolling grasslands. It catered perfectly for a lifestyle such as yours. Clean water and dry firewood in abundance. The grasses and shrubs were thick with herbs, wild vegetables and edible mushrooms. Even hunting was hardly more difficult than foraging. You'd snared plenty of springhares and pigeons over the last couple of weeks, and your shadow had shot a boar the other day. Best of all, the very Erdtree was on your side. The same glimmers of Grace that had guided you to the Lands Between were scattered about Limgrave. Each provided you with a safe place to make your camp, and a spectral inventory by which you could store foodstuffs without them spoiling.
Yes, you thought to yourself as you laid back in the grass and watched wisps of cloud drift across a sky daubed pink and gold by the setting sun, life was good. You had everything you might possibly want. The freedom to do as you pleased, a goal you were destined to fulfil, a bellyful of food, and your lover by your side.

"Play something for me, Faolán, please?" you asked the figure sprawled beside you.
"As you wish, my Lady."

He reached for his knapsack and drew out a sturdy leather case. Nestled inside it was one of your shadow's dearest treasures. He lifted it out as carefully as if it was a new-born child. A scale of notes rang out, bright and clear, as he plucked each string in turn then adjusted the tuning pegs. The lyre had been exquisitely crafted - an instrument as beautiful to look at as to listen to. Its belly, at first glance, appeared to be engraved with a tangle of trees whose curves followed the sensuous undulation of the wooden body, but a closer look revealed carved creatures hidden within the image - songbirds among the branches, owls and squirrels huddled inside knotholes, foxes and deer weaving between the trunks.

You snuggled into Faolán's side and basked in the loveliness of him. The sunset played across his fur, glinting in the strands of blond that peppered his auburn coat. In such a rosy light, his body looked more like flame than fur. His taste in armour - brown leather and brass - further emphasised the richness of his pelt. Your shadow had always been beautiful. Nobody could blame you for falling in love with him. Well, maybe they could, but they were wrong.

The first few notes lingered in the air, then drifted into the introduction of a piece you knew very well. A ballad traditional to your homeland. 'Vision of Grace' was one of those songs that scraped the listener's heart hollow and poured into it the memories of a home left far behind, a home one would never return to. Even you found yourself growing wistful under the spell of that melancholy tune, and the dulcet tones with which your shadow sang. The house you grew up in was no home to you, but the music brought you visions of the woodland near your village that Limgrave so reminded you of. The trees that you and Faolán used to climb. The brook you'd paddled through, then caught fish in. The boulders that had been your castles and the ditches that had been your bandit-hideouts. You and your shadow had always had to play far from home. Your parents thought you were too good to mix with Faolán. So, naturally, you'd done it anyway. You'd forged your friendship in the shadows of the forest, slipping out of your bedroom window in the dead of night and escaping to the wilderness with Faolán, running as free as wolf cubs. That was your home. Those had been simpler times. Times of dappled moonlight in woodland clearings, the watercolour of the sky at dawn and dusk, picking mud and grass out of each other's hair, sharing what food you'd pilfered on your way out, curling around each other when the night got too cold. Those were the times before you saw Faolán die.

As he played, you ran your hand over his stomach. Your fingertips dipped under his trousers, traced along his waistline from one hip to the other.
"Are you ready to serve?" you asked. One ear flicked and swivelled towards you as a smirk crept across his muzzle. Faolán was not only a childhood friend. He was not only a lover. He was not only your shadowbound half-wolf, even. That choker around his neck was no mere accessory. Faolán was your submissive. Your question was your signal that you wanted to begin a scene with him - that you wanted to dominate him. And if he gave you the assigned answer...
"Always ready to serve."
There it was. Consent. You caught hold of the drawstring at his groin and tugged it until the knot loosened, then slipped his cock out through the gap.

Faolán's had been the first dick you'd ever seen. The first you'd touched, or tasted, or taken. It had formed the basis of all your assumptions about what they looked like, but your first glimpse of a human penis had been... well... underwhelming. Almost a joke. Seriously, was that it? Was the rest of it hiding somewhere? Why was it the same colour as the rest of the skin, when Faolán's was such a bold shade of reddish-pink? That bulky, lumpy head looked so uncomfortable compared to the elegant taper of Faolán's tip. Why was it the same sort of thickness all the way down - where was that thicker bit halfway down you enjoyed so much on your shadow? Where was the plush, velvety sheath? And apparently humans didn't even have knots? What the hell? Humans were weird. They could keep their weird dicks. You had no intention of ever touching a human cock when your half-wolf was so lovely and so willing.

Not that he would admit to it. Faolán was ever so slightly a massive brat.
"This again, my Lady?" he sighed. It would have been more convincing if he wasn't still smirking, if he hadn't rolled his hips as you stroked him to full hardness.
"Why not? It's good practice for you."
"If I'm performing in a tavern of nymphomaniacs who left their manners behind with their underwear, perhaps."
You stuck your tongue out. "Think of it as practice for ignoring distractions. And stamina training."
You wrapped your hand around his cock and ran it along his shaft, slowly, slowly, matching the ballad's tempo. Faolán licked his lips.
"Perhaps it's you who needs practice in the art of self-restraint, my Lady."
"Yeah, no, fuck that."
This was one of your little games, playing with your shadow while he played the lyre. His fingers danced across its strings, too skilful to falter even as you tilted his cock towards you and trailed kisses down the side. You added another hand, squeezing and fondling the base of him while your thumb rubbed just under the tip, always to the metre of the music. Even so, you couldn't work a flaw out of his rendition. It was a slow song, and you always held back a little on the first piece. He had a few more to get through.

The melody petered out, trailing into nothing as 'Vision of Grace' reached its mournful end. Faolán's fingers coaxed a ripple of notes from the lyre as he began another song. You recognised the opening notes, and grinned as you snuggled closer to his side. This was your song. A piece that Faolán had composed himself, not long before the incident. Faster than 'Vision of Grace', with a playful sort of bounce to it, its pitch fluttering like a butterfly. It never failed to put a smile on your face. You'd loved it even before Faolán admitted he had tried to transcribe the essence of you into music. Until he came up with just the right name for it, its working title was simply 'Wildflower'.

For a melody set to the lyre, it had a fast pace. Faster than 'Vision of Grace', at any rate. Just the right sort of speed to tease your shadow with, in fact. Was it deliberate? You wouldn't put it past Faolán to choose a faster song so you'd jack him off harder. You sped up the movement of your hand, tightening the curl of your fingers to add just a little more pressure. A groan slipped between his fangs. So your lupine lyrist and lyricist wasn't so unflappable after all. You leant into his lap and flicked your tongue against his tip, then took it into your mouth. His eyes closed as your tongue traced along the underside of his cock. You purred under your breath, letting the vibrations tickle against the head of his cock. A hissed swear from above you, and his finger missed the string. Oops. A few shaky seconds before he resumed the melody, but his hands trembled as you bobbed your head on his cock and ran your tongue along the smooth skin. It wasn't the right tempo, either. Poor Faolán. Guess you were a little too distracting after all. You raised your head and let his cock slip out of your mouth.

"Too slow. Get it right if you want me to touch you again."
"And who says I want my Lady groping me like a strumpet?"
"You do. You haven't used a safeword. Is this a 'red'?"
"It isn't," he admitted. 'Red' meant he wanted to stop the whole scene.
"And is it a 'yellow'?" you continued.
"It isn't." 'Yellow' was a request to stop or change what you were doing.
"Might it be a 'green', then?"
"Green," he conceded in a mutter. He wanted his Lady groping him like a strumpet after all.
"Good boy."
Combative as he was, it was sometimes difficult to gauge whether he really did consent or if he only obeyed because he was bound to you. The safewords let you communicate your wishes to each other even when he was being a brat.
"Go back a few bars. I'll suck you off again once you get the tempo right." You returned your hand to the base of his cock in readiness, lowering your head until your mouth barely brushed the tip. A few fluttering notes sounded from the lyre, building back into the familiar rhythm of 'Wildflower'.
"There we go," you mumbled against the head of his cock, lips brushing over it before you planted a kiss there. "That's a good boy."

You took him back into your mouth and resumed the steady sucking on the first few inches on him, fingers tracing along the rest of his shaft in time with the music. Your shadow had been taller than you even in your childhood years, but as you approached adulthood the half-wolf had shot up like a sunflower, long and lithe except for the broad back and shoulders that years of archery had developed. These days your head only reached level with his waist. Faolán was enormous - everywhere. His cock, perfectly proportionate for his stature, was almost the length of your forearm and thicker than your wrist. Blowing him should have been like trying to shove your arm down your throat. And yet, as Faolán reached the flurry of chord changes that announced the finale of 'Wildflower', you sank further down his cock than would ever be humanly possible. Your mouth stretched around him. That bit just below the head, where his shaft thickened into a bump, skimmed over the flat of your tongue. You heard his breath catch above you, a sound somewhere between a gasp and a groan when your lips closed around the base of his shaft and grazed the edge of his velvety sheath.
There wasn't a lot you were grateful to your parents for, but one of them was your mother's collection of herbals and materia medica. Among the countless tomes you'd stumbled across a very interesting cookbook with a very interesting recipe. Combining Root Resin with a few other bits and pieces yielded a grease that increased the capacity of anything it was applied to. Such as, say, mouths. Or other orifices that you'd both been keen to experience but would never have fitted him otherwise.

You only had a few seconds of the song left, but you made them count. You licked along the underside of his cock, ending with a playful flick of tongue-tip as you eased yourself back up until only the head remained in the warm wetness of your mouth, then bobbed back down him as close to the tempo as you could manage. His grip on the lyre tightened. His tail thumped against the ground so hard that you worried he might bruise it. But despite that beautifully needy face he was making - his brow furrowed with equal parts pleasure and torment - he didn't miss a single note. The song drew to a close and you waited to see what was next, what metre you'd be pleasuring him to, his cock almost fully sheathed in your mouth.

One long, tremulous note faded into the evening air. Another, a little higher in pitch, that once again drifted away to silence. The third fell somewhere in between. More and more notes melted together to create a melody soft and indistinct as moonlight through mist. A lullaby that wrapped itself around your senses. Very, very slow. You drew your tongue along your shadow's cock with an almost reverent languor. Such a sedate tempo gave you plenty of opportunity to savour him. To enjoy the smoothness of his skin sliding against your lips, the taste of him under your tongue's caress, the shudders in his breath as you worshipped him with all the tenderness you held for him. This lullaby was one he'd written for you many years ago. 'Song for a Moonlit Night'. One of his earliest compositions, back when he was still learning to play the lyre. Maybe it wasn't as sophisticated as his later works, but the vagueness of the melody lent it an almost ethereal beauty. It was a nice choice for his third and final song. Three songs were the limit of Faolán's endurance.

Sure enough, when you took him as deeply as he'd go, letting his cock bump against the back of your throat, your lips met the beginnings of a bulge. Your poor shadow was already forming a knot. You glanced up to his face. His ears had dropped, his tongue between his teeth as he panted. You withdrew from him once more and enveloped the growing knot in your hand. It strained against your touch, but you squeezed it to keep it at bay.

"You've been doing so well," you whispered. "Try not to cum until you finish the song, okay?"
You kissed the underside of his cock, just above the knot trapped in your hand. The wet popping sound of your lips and tongue as you kissed your way along the length of him, in time with the melody, wove its way between the lyre's leisurely notes until it was part of the music. Hang on...
"I can hear you speeding up. No cheating."
"N-not cheating, my Lady..." he breathed. "Just... improvising..."
"Improvising to make it end faster is cheating." Another kiss to that spot below the head, the one you knew was particularly sensitive on your half-wolf.
"Don't p-punish creativity..."

You rolled your eyes. 'Song for a Moonlit Night' was the only piece he'd get away with that argument on. The music was both simple and vague, which made it easy to improvise to. The two of you had used that as a loophole in your youth. Since your parents only allowed Faolán near you when he was serving you, you'd sometimes ask him to play you a lullaby at bedtime. Under the cover of the music, you and your shadow would snatch whispered conversations. Sometimes he'd managed to make the lullaby last nearly an hour. You were pretty sure he wouldn't be trying that right now, though.
"Just play it properly. You can do it; you're so close -"
"You're... telling me...!" he muttered.
"The sooner you stop sassing and finish the song, the sooner I get to swallow your cum. Deal?"
"Fecking... d-deal..."
You kept your hand around his knot, keeping the ever-swelling flesh under wraps, while your other hand kept time in its sweeping strokes of his cock. Not much longer - only a few bars to go, a handful of notes to let the breeze carry away, as delicate as petals. You sheathed the tip of his cock in your mouth, waiting for the melody to dwindle into silence. On the final note, you gave his balls a quick tug and grinned at his indignant bark, even as he grabbed your hair and shoved your head down until your mouth was against his sheath. You'd known full well what you were letting yourself in for. He had a thing for a well-timed pull on the balls. That, combined with freeing his knot, was enough to send him over the edge. His grip was firm, padded fingertips winding through your hair as he came into the back of your throat. Being so much bigger than a human, he came far more as well. You swallowed and swallowed, burst after burst of cum threatening to choke you. But you persevered until the twitching of his cock ceased. With one last swallow, you pulled yourself off him and Faolán settled back with a pleased growl.

"Telling me... not to cheat, my Lady? When you tried to cheat yourself?" he panted, a fang-filled smirk crossing his muzzle. "As if you don't know what pulling my bollocks does? But it didn't work, did it? I managed it!"
"You were almost crying during that last one," you shot back. "But I must admit, you've served well."
Those words were the final part of the signal between you and your shadow. Asking him to serve you indicated the start of a scene, and telling him he had served you well brought the scene to an end.

You fished out a bag from your shadow's knapsack. Faolán's honey-yellow eyes lit up, tail wagging into a reddish blur as he tore off his shirt. The little bag was a regular part of your aftercare, and yet he was always delighted when it appeared. That toothy grin of his was infectious. You returned his smile as you removed the boar-bristle brush and wooden comb from it.
He practically threw himself at your feet, purring like a cat the moment you began to brush him. His fur was so thick and silky that you simply had to bend down and nuzzle into him. The scent of his fur was sweet yet earthy, the moment that summer turned to autumn. Hickory smoke, apple peel, grass dried in the sun. You loved to groom him almost as much as he loved to be groomed. His coat was his favourite feature, and he appreciated your help in its upkeep. He'd fallen asleep under your attentions more than once, something that you occasionally teased him for.

"There's a good boy. Now let me do your back."
He rolled onto his front. You brushed the spot between his shoulder blades, digging the comb in so that the wooden teeth scratched pleasantly against his skin.
"You did so well," you whispered to him, "even if you did waver a little. Three whole songs, and two of them were slow. Very good."
"Want to try for four next time? They'll have to be fast, but I might manage it."
"Four fast songs then, you little masochist," you laughed, combing along his spine. He may be a contrary little brat, but if he loved to push your limits he wanted to push his own even further. He was always trying to better himself, always wanting to be the most impressive submissive he could be. "Come on, let's see if we can find another reward for you."

The kettle of maythen tea was as much a part of your aftercare sessions as the brush and comb. Nothing soothed you quite like a good cup of tea after a fulfilling scene. You took a sip and let out a soft sigh of bliss. You could hardly be more content than you were in this moment. Maybe it was the maythen, practically sunshine in a cup. Maybe it was the thick russet fur between Faolán's ears that your adoring fingers sank into. Maybe it was his head tucked between your legs as he lapped at your pussy.

He paused just long enough for a swig of his own tea. "Where do we head next, my Lady?"
"Let's keep going round the lake," you answered as you guided him back towards your pussy. "I want to check out that forest. ...There we go, good boy..."
There was much of Limgrave left to explore. To the other side of the lake, a reflection of the moon rippling across its surface, the shadowy blanket of treetops spread out for miles. Dense woodland held a promise of good hunting and foraging. Who knew what you might find there? But that was for tomorrow. You knew how you wanted to spend what was left of this evening.

Chapter Text

POV: Tarnished

The Mistwood. That was the name that the merchant on its outskirts had given you. How perfectly it encapsulated the forest. It was its own beast, wrapped in shadows and fogs that cut it off from the rest of Limgrave. Its own little microcosm, its own little world. The Mistwood did not care if you got lost among its endlessly winding trees, nor whether the sun or moon could break through the canopy to light your way. It didn't care whether you lost your life to one of the creatures that called it home or whether you slayed them in turn. Life went on, with or without you. The Mistwood was the Mistwood was the Mistwood.

Only the colour of light that stippled the ground told you that the sun had sunken and the moon had taken its place. As the forest darkened and the temperature dropped, the song of wolves echoed through the forest. Faolán cocked his head as he listened. Sometimes, when he was feeling particularly whimsical, he would join in with their calls. It didn't often work - there was something in the howl of a half-wolf that was a little too like a voice. No human could make that sound, but neither would a wolf. Still, it was near enough to get an occasional response, which always made Faolán grin. He threw his head back and that melodious call, part human and part wolf, threaded its way amongst the distant howls. ...The sound died in his throat as another voice joined in. Every muscle in your shadow's body froze. His ears were pricked forward, fully focused on the sounds pouring from the Mistwood's depths.

"That's no wolf," he breathed. One gauntlet-clad arm shot out to tuck you behind him. "My Lady, that's no wolf. There's an Empyrean here. Or their shadow, at least."

Another Empyrean? You strained to listen to the wolves. At first you picked up nothing out of the ordinary, and you were about to chide Faolán for being so jittery when you heard it. In amongst the wolves you heard a long, haunting note, held by a voice that was not entirely wolfish, yet far from human. You'd never heard such a voice in anyone other than Faolán. It sent a prickle across your skin. Your shadow was right - that was the call of his own kind.

"You hear it now?"
You nodded.
"What do you propose we do?" he asked.
"Let's find them."
He tilted his head, his golden-brown eyes narrowed in a frown. "You're certain?"
"Absolutely certain. Might be fun to see what another Empyrean's like."
You had never met another Empyrean. Your status was unusual, but not unique. There were a handful of Empyreans scattered around the Lands Between, or so you'd heard. Others chosen by the Two Fingers, others invited to take their place among the gods. There was no guarantee that another Empyrean would welcome you with open arms. Two beings that both aspired to be the god of the next age would naturally become enemies. You'd be happy with just the Elden Ring, so there was no harm in meeting another Empyrean, right? Your curiosity won out over your caution. Besides, your dagger hung at your belt, and your shadow was no mean shot with a bow. If the situation turned dire, you and Faolán were ready. The two of you proceeded further into the Mistwood. Faolán walked ahead of you, an arrow already nocked into his greatbow just in case.

The heart of the Mistwood opened out into a clearing bathed in moonlight. Ruins huddled under a blanket of vines and moss. You cast your eye over the rambling assortment of walls and stones. Whatever it was, it had once been tall. There'd been at least one tower. Why would anyone bury a place like this in woodland? What purpose had it served, and why had it been allowed to crumble? You lost your train of thought as Faolán coughed and nodded towards the remains of the tower.
"Up there."

Your shadow's eyesight had always been keener than yours, and years of archery had accustomed him to scoping out faraway targets. It was harder for your human eyes - especially at night - to make out a figure hunched so still atop the tower that you'd mistaken it for a gargoyle. Until it tossed back its head, ears flat and jaws parting to let its howl pour forth. Now you knew where to look, you couldn't mistake it for anything else. That build that outsized a human's, that long-snouted profile topped with pointed ears, that voice that was neither human nor wolf... You were looking at another shadow.

You nudged Faolán's elbow. "Call to them. See what happens. We can take them if they prove hostile."
"...If you say so, my Lady."
He gave a few short barks to clear his throat, then howled back. His voice was a shade higher than the other half-wolf's and somewhat musical, the pitch rising in a near-arpeggio. The figure on top of the ruins turned its head and stared in your direction, its ears bolt upright. There was a distant flump, a fur cloak buffeted by the wind, as it leapt from the tower and landed before you.

As the figure straightened up, you saw just how different from your own shadow he was. This stranger was rougher - wilder. His fur was a tangle of grey that ran completely bald in places. Rough patches of skin poked through at his cheeks and under his throat. There was an injury above his eye that hadn't healed properly, and the scar tissue sagged over the eyelid as if trying to force it shut. This shadow had seen serious hardship. You'd wager he'd died far more than twice. Was this what life in the Lands Between was like for an Empyrean and their shadow?

You held your breath as the two shadows took in each other's appearance. For a long minute, you weren't sure whether he and Faolán were to exchange blows or not. The grey wolf was not hostile, exactly, but neither did he welcome you. If you had to describe it, he seemed wary. Most of his attention remained on Faolán. They were doing more than simply looking at each other. You saw in their narrowed eyes, the way their gazes swept over each other from head to foot, that they were sizing each other up. You saw in each of their faces that they were entertaining the same thoughts you had - which of them might prevail if they fought. The red wolf was a few inches shorter, but at their heights that made little difference. Their builds, however, spoke volumes about their differences. Faolán was no weakling. His shoulders were broad and his arms lined with sleek muscle, but his body lent itself to the speed and dexterity that he'd cultivated as a ranged fighter. The grey wolf, on the other hand, was a being of pure physical strength. That enormous greatsword across his back - much bigger than you yourself - was testament to the power at his disposal. He could probably kill you with a single swing of that enormous sword he wore across his back. At such close quarters, he might be able to kill Faolán too. With a little distance between them, however, you were sure that Faolán and his greatbow had the advantage. It all depended on whether your shadow could outrun him, how much distance he could put between them.

The stranger's gaze - what you saw from his good eye, at least - moved from Faolán to you.
"Empyrean, are you?"
His voice took you aback. This man with the face of a wolf and the armour of a knight possessed the smoothest, silkiest voice you'd ever heard. Low and almost smoky, the hint of a growl - or was it a purr? - texturing every word. You blinked.
"Y-Yeah. Empyrean." You introduced yourself, then gestured to the red wolf. "This is Faolán. You must be another shadow?"
He nodded. "The name's Blaidd. What business have you in the Mistwood?"
"Little more than exploring," you explained. "We're new to the Lands Between; we're still getting our bearings."
"A Tarnished as well as an Empyrean...?" he murmured to himself, gaze skimming you up and down. "An interesting combination."
You didn't know how to respond to that. Instead you turned his question back on him. "How about you? What're you doing here, Blythe?"
"It's Blaidd."
Faolán tutted. "Can't believe you'd mispronounce Blythe's name right to his face, my Lady," he chided you in a loud stage-whisper. "Terribly sorry, Blythe. She's sorry - aren't you, my Lady? Apologise to Blythe."
"Blaidd," the grey wolf repeated, glancing to your shadow this time.
"Sorry. Um, Blythe?" you tried again. The gleeful twinkle in Faolán's eyes told you you'd got it wrong. "Hang on. I'll get it. ...Blythe."
"It's 'Blaidd', my Lady. You're saying 'Blythe'. More of a V at the end. 'Blaidd'."

Wait, Faolán had known how to say it this whole time, yet he'd still gone out of his way to call the other wolf Blythe? Typical little troublemaker. You thanked the gods that Blaidd either hadn't noticed or was too well-mannered to call your shadow out on it.

"...Blaidd?" The grey wolf bowed his head, the glimmer of a smile in his eyes when you got his name right. You grinned back. For all those scars marring his battle-worn face, those were some beautifully expressive eyes he had. And such a striking colour, too. A frozen lake on a winter's day, yet with the warmth of a campfire when he smiled. "Anyway, you never said what you were doing here, Blaidd."
"I'm looking for a man by the name of Darriwil. He fled somewhere nearby - or so I've heard."
You racked your brain. You'd encountered a few people in the Lands Between, but no Darriwils. Nobody had mentioned such a person either. You shrugged.
"Don't think I can be of any help right now. But Faolán and I are still finding our way around Limgrave. We'll keep an eye out on our travels."
"Come find me if you find him before I do." Blaidd's eyes met yours. "I can offer you ample reward."
Your face flushed. Damn, that voice. The way his tone dropped even lower at the words 'ample reward'... It was almost a purr. How were you supposed to avoid imagining... well... what he might 'reward' you with? He may not be as pretty as your own shadow, but there was no denying that this guy had an appeal of his own. Maybe it was just that all half-wolves were hot. Even more evidence that humans would always be a poor second.
"How ample are we talking, big boy?" Faolán cut in. "Can I get some of this ample reward, too?"
Blaidd blinked at him, tilting his head, his ears flattening a little.
"F-Faolán!" you hissed, mortified. Even if he'd spoken in jest, your shadow's joke came too close to what was actually going through your head. The last thing you needed was for him to announce exactly what you were thinking. "Just for once, behave!"
Your shadow grinned and mimed sewing his muzzle shut. You turned back to Blaidd.
"Sorry about my shadow. He's not a bad sort, he just has a mischievous streak a mile wide."
"Think nothing of it," Blaidd replied. "It would be remiss of me to fight one of my own kind for a mere jibe, or to judge their Empyrean over it."

This shadow had far better manners than your own. Did he mirror his Empyrean in that respect? Perhaps his master was of noble blood; a true heir to the kind of life your parents had tried to force you into a facsimile of. Blaidd nodded to Faolán, who had settled down enough to return the gesture, and bowed to you. At least you remembered the correct etiquette for this. You held out your hand to Blaidd, and he took hold of it. He brought his muzzle to the back of your hand, his lips not quite touching you, but close enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath. He paused. Okay...? He... he should have let go by now? You'd never learnt what you were supposed to do if someone didn't release your hand! A flurry of huffs, short and rapid, tickled your skin. He lifted his head and stared at you, his ears pivoting like sails in a storm. The wideness of his eyes emphasised their peculiar icy colour. He looked every bit as confused by you as you were by him. His gaze darted to Faolán, then you, and back to Faolán. He made a noise somewhere between a cough and a growl as he finally let go of your hand and stood. And just when you thought it couldn't get any weirder, Blaidd leaned toward Faolán and sniffed him. Your shadow didn't seem to mind it at all. If anything, his tail flicked in a slow wag as he lifted his head and aimed a condescending smile at Blaidd. What was that all about?
"Well then," Blaidd muttered with a shake of his head. "That's enough chit-chat. I'll let you be on your way."
You nodded to him, offering a little wave as you and Faolán took your leave. The night was getting late, and you had to find a safe spot to camp until morning.

"So what did you make of him?" you whispered to Faolán.
"Not the sharpest arrow in the quiver."
"Leave him alone! He seemed a good sort. I liked him. You could learn a few manners from him."
"Of course you like him, my Lady, he's a half-wolf. You're a wolf's-bitch through and through."
You scoffed. "Oh, you're writing lines for that!"
Your shadow knew that one of the easiest ways to earn a punishment was to utter the phrase 'wolf's-bitch'. The gods knew he'd written enough lines in his time, and how often it had been for using those exact words. Faolán had a thing for verbal degradation. As a submissive, one might have expected him to like being on the receiving end, but no - he much preferred to talk trash about his Dominant. If you were honest, some of the filth he spewed at you was pretty hot. Disrespect was disrespect, though, and he wasn't worthy to serve you until he paid the price.
"How many lines?"
"Let's say twenty. 'I will not call my Lady a wolf's-bitch'."
"I'll write them before bed."
"As you should. Anyway, what was all that about at the end?" you whispered, nodding in the direction of the ruins. "Was he sniffing us or something?"
"I think we've given your new friend something to think about."
"Like what?"
No matter how you probed, no matter how Faolán's smirk grew, he would not elaborate further on the matter. Something had definitely passed between the two half-wolves when Blaidd took your hand, but you had no clue what.

POV: Blaidd

As for Blaidd, he watched the newcomers - the Tarnished Empyrean and her shadow - wander away from the ruins, whispering to each other as they vanished among the tangling vines and trees of the Mistwood. His eyes remained locked on the spot where they disappeared from view, although in truth he stared right through it. All his focus was on the thoughts turning over and over in his mind.

There had been something odd right from the start about those two. A little something to each of their scents that wasn't quite right. He hadn't been able to put his finger on the problem until he'd bowed to the Tarnished and brought his mouth to her hand. She carried the aroma of her shadow on her skin. That, as well as a scent that he knew well himself. Once he registered it, it drowned out everything else. The stench of sex, only a day old, clamoured in his nose. He'd sniffed the red wolf too, just to make sure, and his suspicions were confirmed. The smell of her shadow's cum was on her, and the smell of his Empyrean's cunt was on him. He'd had her. As much as it was possible for a half-wolf to have a human, anyway. But surely an Empyrean and their shadow were siblings...?

Chapter Text

POV: Blaidd

How was it possible for a Bloodhound Knight to elude not only two shadows but an Empyrean for this long? He didn't like to think it, but perhaps Blaidd's faith in that Tarnished had been misplaced.

It was a couple of weeks since he enlisted the help of those two, and he had run into them a few times since. He'd been wary of them, at first. They were an Empyrean and a shadow; he couldn't afford to ignore the threat their existence posed to Mistress Ranni. What he'd seen of them, however, suggested that he had little to fear on that score. Not to say that they were evil. The Tarnished in particular was alright in her way. Okay, maybe she had a bell on every tooth, talking far more than there was ever any need to. Maybe some of the schemes that popped into her head were ridiculous, even if a number of them actually paid off somehow. Maybe her self-confidence and her enthusiasm exceeded her actual abilities. As potential gods went, she wasn't worth mentioning in the same breath as Ranni. Blaidd found something oddly engaging about her, though. Something simple yet genuine. For all her faults, he couldn't dislike her. She had her own brand of charisma, he supposed. And that red shadow of hers - Faolán - he was cut from a similar cloth. He was competent enough, certainly for a low-level Empyrean. He could look after his liege and keep her safe, and that was all their current lifestyle demanded of them. Blaidd had seen no evidence that Faolán was suited to anything more taxing than the life of a vagabond. They made for a boisterous pair. If Faolán wasn't trying to needle Blaidd, he was winding up his Tarnished, but she matched anything he threw at her. Despite that, they were pleasant enough company once he got used to them and made a certain effort to ignore the other shadow. Pleasant, but hardly poised to waylay Ranni's fate. Hell, they weren't even looking very hard for Darriwil.

Sure enough, there they were, messing about in the little clearing ahead. He sighed at the sight of them. Not that how they spent their time was any of his business, but he'd hoped that they might take his request for help a little more seriously. They were too wrapped up in whatever they were doing to notice him, so he was not going to disturb them. He'd simply move on. Continuing the search himself would be a better use of his time.

...Wait, were they arguing about something? The Tarnished pushed her shadow against a tree, her hand splayed over his stomach to pin him there. Maybe Faolán had finally taken his goading too far. Blaidd couldn't make out what she was saying, or Faolán's reply, but something about it made her grin. Perhaps it wasn't a fight, but just a bit of playful roughhousing. It figured.

Hang on. The Tarnished's free hand had gone to Faolán's... She looped the drawstring of his trousers around her finger and pulled. Blaidd's cheeks burned. He should not be watching this. He began to turn away, began to retreat further into the trees, but stopped when he noticed her expression from the corner of his eye. Her face practically glowed. Her eyes were bright as she looked up from Faolán's cock to meet his gaze, her cheeks pink, her wide smile punctuated by a bite of the lip. Blaidd had had a number of human lovers in his time, and encountered all sorts of reactions to the more wolfish parts of him. Some had been disturbed, others disappointed, a couple had outright mocked him, but the ones who'd looked at him like the Tarnished was looking at her shadow, like he was the sexiest thing she'd ever seen... those ones were by far the most fun. Shame how often they were more interested in his body than his heart.

Drawing out Faolán's cock from his trousers, the Tarnished planted a kiss at its base then ran her tongue slowly along the underside of the shaft, eyes shining as if she was luxuriating in the taste of him. When she reached the tip, she closed her lips around it and began to suck on the first couple of inches. Okay, he should definitely not be watching this, but it had been such a long time since Blaidd had had a woman go down on him that he'd almost forgotten how hot it was watching someone try to fit him into their mouth. Humans were so small that none of his partners had any hopes of taking him completely, either in their mouths or anywhere else. A shallow blowjob was still a blowjob, though. Even if he couldn't bury himself inside his lover, there were other attentions that might be performed on him, and ones that he might perform in return. And even if none of his partners had ever managed to take more than a couple of inches below the head before it hit the back of their mouth, they still looked great doing it. The Tarnished seemed to have bottomed out at a similar point. Judging from the size of her compared to Faolán, he was probably bumping against the back of her throat every time she bobbed her head. Well, good on him for finding someone who not only appreciated a half-wolf dick but, by human standards, handled the size well. Would have been better if it hadn't been his own stepsister. That aspect still perturbed Blaidd. But maybe the red wolf could be excused for not spending every waking moment hunting for Darriwil. Even Blaidd might have found himself a little distracted sometimes if he'd been in Faolán's shoes.

Wait. Wait just a moment. Each time she lowered her head, she took him a little further into her mouth. It had been so gradual that he hadn't noticed, but now her lips stretched around the widest point halfway down her shadow's cock. Blaidd's eyes widened. How the... how the hell was she doing that? She couldn't be! Humans simply couldn't do it! Yet there she was, sinking further and further down his cock, a maddening little smile on her face as if she knew exactly how impossible she was being. There was no way. He stared at her neck. There had to be some kind of magic involved. Her throat simply wasn't big enough to take something that big with such apparent ease. Fuck. Faolán's cock glistened with saliva whenever she drew back, only to plunge him deeper and deeper until her lips bumped against the edge of his sheath. She'd only gone and taken the whole bloody thing. Not only that, but she was going pretty fast too. Blaidd didn't understand how she was able to bob like that without choking. Surely she needed air. Surely she was bruising the inside of her mouth every time she pulled up, until only the head remained between her lips, then slammed herself back down and hilted him inside her mouth. Here was the only human in the Lands Between capable of deepthroating a half-wolf, and bloody Faolán had got to her first. Blaidd remembered their scents on each other's bodies. If they were Empyrean and shadow, they had known each other their whole lives. How long had she been sucking him off like that for? Years? Damn it. Faolán had better appreciate what a rarity he had there. The red wolf was treating the whole thing far too casually. That spoilt pup must think that every woman was like his Tarnished. The insolent little shadow took her for granted.

The Tarnished released Faolán's cock from her mouth, giving the saliva-slick shaft a few more pumps with her hand for good measure. Oh, what the hell was she doing now? She unfastened her greaves and set them to one side - Blaidd ducked into the bushes so she didn't see him as she turned round - then shed her trousers and dumped them in a pile on top of the armour. She pointed at the red wolf, then the ground. He lay down only a few yards in front of Blaidd. He shrank back even further, hardly daring to breathe in case the other shadow heard him. The Tarnished dropped to her knees over Faolán, straddling his hips as he lined his cock up with her. No. Don't say that that unbelievable woman was going to try and... Even Blaidd could see that it wasn't going to work. She may possess the deepest throat the gods had ever given a human, but she still had internal organs. Taking a half-wolf dick would mash her guts into a pâté. He knew from experience that even the tip was too wide for a human woman. No, see? The head of Faolán's cock rubbed over the Tarnished's slit, sliding between her folds as if he was trying to get in. She was much too small. Quite a cute little cunt she had, really. Her inner thighs shimmered in the dappled sunlight. The horny little thing was already wet just from blowing her shadow. He licked his lips unconsciously. Might be fun to watch her take a human; at least that was feasible. ...Where had that shameful thought come from? It had been too bloody long since he'd last gotten laid if he was really thinking such debauched things. He needed to get this out of his system. Purge it like poison from a serpent's bite. He'd have to take matters in hand later, in a very literal sense.

The tip nudged a little deeper, just where the Tarnished's pussy would - oh holy fuck it was going in. It sank between her folds and the Tarnished chewed her lip, stifling a moan as she lowered her hips. Blaidd's jaw dropped. This had to be the same magic she used on her mouth. Her body couldn't possibly stretch like that, and yet it was happening before his very eyes. The red wolf's cock was halfway inside her and it wasn't even hurting her. Not a flicker of pain passed through her face, nothing but flushed cheeks and gleaming eyes. Every last bit of that expression radiated delight. How did such a creature exist? The Tarnished lowered herself onto Faolán's cock, inch by impossible inch. Her pussy lips brushed against the shadow's sheath. Faolán wrapped his hands around her waist. She grinned over her shoulder at him as she raised her hips, slowly easing herself off his cock until only the tip remained inside, then slid down him once more, head dropping as she groaned something. Blaidd wasn't entirely sure from this distance, even with his sensitive hearing, but from what he made out as well as the movements of her mouth, she'd said something like 'fuck, it's good'. Not only was she doing what no other human could do, she loved it. The red wolf gripped her waist, thrusting to meet her hips every time she took him back inside. She pressed one finger to her clit, rubbing herself as she was pounded.
Blaidd's armour was too hot, too tight. This was disgraceful. But he couldn't just walk away now and pretend he'd seen nothing. Arousal and shame burned his cheeks. He was going to hate himself for this later, but he had to see it through. That Tarnished was incredible. He would succumb to his curiosity - and his baser instincts - just this once, then try and forget it had ever happened. Besides, the Tarnished was facing him as she rode Faolán. It was perfect for Blaidd to watch her, but it was also dangerous. If he tried to slip away now, she'd see him.

The red wolf was bucking harder into her, bouncing her on each thrust. The sunlight through the trees made her juices glisten on her thighs and on his cock. Blaidd could almost... He sniffed the air and licked his lips. She was so wet that he could smell her from here. The scent of her set his heart racing, made his prick throb. Just for a moment, his ears laid back and a growl rumbled in the back of his throat. Just for a moment, he'd forgotten himself. He'd become a hunter with his prey in front of his nose. Stop it. He shook his head, but it didn't get that scent out of his mind.
His hand slipped below his tassets and between his legs. Even through his leather trousers he felt the trace of his fingertips along his inner thigh. This didn't count, right? It didn't count if it was through clothing, and he wasn't even touching his prick anyway. He wasn't really masturbating, almost in public, to the sight of a human getting mated by a half-wolf. Nobody could have blamed him if he had, but he wasn't. He wasn't like that. The Tarnished's fingers roamed down from her clit to spread along the point where her body met her shadow's, framing her cunt so that every motion of his cock brushed against her fingers. She threw her head back, face frozen in a wordless cry of bliss, shoulders heaving and knees quivering. Blaidd's hand drifted upward, kneading at the bulge in the front of his trousers. This... didn't count either. It was still through clothing. Even if his breath caught at the increase of pressure on his cock, he wasn't touching himself, not really.

His ears twitched at the half-pleading gasp that escaped from the Tarnished's mouth. The base of Faolán's cock had started to swell, bumping against her fingers. A knot. Before he knew it, Blaidd had tugged at his drawstring and loosened it enough for his shaking fingers to slip inside. This still didn't count. Okay, maybe he'd just drawn his cock out from his trousers. Maybe he was jacking himself off. But it was through his braies. He wasn't touching himself. If it was through clothing, it didn't count - it didn't count - it would have felt so much better with his hand actually on his cock but he wasn't going to debase himself like that - it still didn't count - would've been even better if it was that Tarnished's hand instead - or her mouth, or that perfect cunt of hers - but he wasn't touching himself, it didn't count didn't count didn't count didn't count -
He prayed that she'd take the knot. He prayed that she didn't. He'd go crazy if she did. He was desperate to see that pussy stuffed tight with a half-wolf knot, but he hated that it was bloody Faolán's. That good-for-nothing shadow had no idea what he had. He was a swine before whom the finest pearl had been cast. He didn't appreciate what a treasure his Empyrean was, and he didn't deserve her. Blaidd's heart was eaten up with jealousy and hatred, both for Faolán and for himself for begrudging the red wolf so. He wished he'd simply crept away before they'd started all this... this torture.

The Tarnished paused at the bottom of Faolán's shaft, her pussy lips kissing the surface of the knot. She ground her hips against his, shoulders trembling, until with a little moan she managed to slip the growing knot inside her. She rocked against him, hand working furiously at her clit, her knees buckling as she finally - she finally - she came around his knot. Faolán gritted his teeth, a frown of pain at the tightening on his cock. Blaidd ignored him. Far more interesting was the expression that the Tarnished made as she climaxed. The redness of her cheeks, her eyes fluttering shut and her mouth falling open, the shudder that ran through her body, the way her cunt quivered and dripped. The rapture in her face blossomed as the red wolf ground against her one final time and sank his fingertips deep into her hips as he no doubt came inside her. Gods. She was. Absolutely. Bloody. Gorgeous. Blaidd had only dreamt that a woman like her existed. Someone who could take a cock like his, take a knot, and love every second of it. If only fucking Faolán hadn't got there first...!

The Tarnished was grinning to herself, panting, positively glowing despite her clear exhaustion. Faolán's hands cradled her waist. She looked so small between his paws. Too small, too precious a prey. Part of Blaidd wanted to pry that red wolf's fingers off her - maybe even break a few of them for daring to think he had the right to touch her so nonchalantly. She may be lousy by Empyrean standards but she was worthy of worship. A goddess was not for the likes of Faolán. The red wolf guided her backwards until she lay on top of him, still joined by his knot, and wrapped his arms around her. She snuggled into his chest. A growl rattled in the back of Blaidd's throat. Cold air met his tongue; he hadn't realised his teeth were bared. There was nothing left to see, and something about the sight of them embracing each other stoked his fury even more. At least with the Tarnished on her back he had the chance to sneak off unseen. Tucking himself back into his trousers as best he could, trying to close the drawstring despite the bulge tenting the leather, he retreated through the undergrowth as quietly as possible. He had to get away from here. Had to find somewhere that he couldn't see them, couldn't smell her. Find something that would clear the storm going on in his mind, drive away the image of her with her shadow, stop him from bringing himself release. He had to do something. He just didn't know what.

Chapter Text

POV: Tarnished

Blaidd had not struck you as the social type. It didn't surprise you how little you saw of him after you accepted his request. You guessed he just trusted you to get on with looking for Darriwil by yourselves. You and Faolán had continued your circuit of Lake Agheel, into the heavily guarded area known locally as Stormhill. You hadn't rated it as a good site for a hideout. Faolán pointed out that, were Darriwil to lay low somewhere among the barracks, all those soldiers milling around would prevent anyone else from stumbling across him. The pair of you spent a few days there as a result, combing the area as thoroughly as you could while fending off the soldiers.

About a fortnight after you met Blaidd, however, something changed. All of a sudden, the grey wolf found you almost ever day. You'd expected him to scour another area of Limgrave, maybe cross the bridge to the south, but it seemed he too wanted to explore the western reaches. That... wasn't a problem, per se. Okay, he had been a little odd in the Mistwood, with that air of aloofness hanging about him, but he was friendly enough to you even if he'd been wary of your shadow. Had he lost patience with you? Was the hunt for the traitor taking too long for his liking, and now he felt the need to check up on you constantly? Sometimes you thought it'd be better to run into him less, just so you weren't constantly telling him how little progress you'd made since he last saw you. The work of a week always sounded more impressive than the work of a day, especially when that day's work had come to nothing.
You'd never voice such an opinion, though. You didn't dislike Blaidd at all - quite the opposite. Since you kept bumping into each other, it seemed only right to invite him into your camp for a break every now and again. Not that Faolán agreed with that choice. Whether he was just doing it to be contrary or whether he really did dislike Blaidd, you had no idea. All you knew was that the frost in the atmosphere between them was palpable. If Blaidd sat too close to Faolán, your shadow would move away. If Blaidd sat too close to you, on the other hand, Faolán wedged himself between you like a barrier. You'd aim an apologetic look at your guest whenever it happened, and Blaidd did little more than offer you a nod of acknowledgement. At least one shadow around here had enough manners not to rise to the bait.

As Blaidd called by more and more often, the chill between the two shadows slowly thawed. Even Faolán seemed to tire of bracing himself against someone so inoffensive. Perhaps it was because the other shadow rarely stayed longer than a drink and a chat before excusing himself. It was his way, but you wouldn't have minded him staying longer. Perhaps he was a little quiet at first, but once he got talking he was an interesting fellow. He held valuable information about the many parts of Limgrave, as well as the rest of the Lands Between. His own Empyrean was a witch, it transpired, by the name of Ranni. You assumed that the hunt for Darriwil was at her behest. Behind his soft words, especially when he spoke of his Lady Ranni, you picked up on a kind and noble heart. For all the battle-marred wildness on the outside, the Two Fingers had entrusted him with such a knightly spirit that it was all too easy to admire him. Still, perhaps it was for the best that he was too shy to stay long. Faolán may have stopped moving around whenever Blaidd showed up, but he still glared daggers whenever the grey wolf joined you.

If you had known what you were about to start between the two wolves, you wouldn't have spoken so carelessly.

"Oh, Blaidd! Hi!"
Faolán didn't greet the new arrival with the enthusiasm that you did. Your shadow raised his head and offered up the faintest squint, a hint of a growl under his breath. You nodded towards the skillet you and Faolán tended to. Chunks of meat and vegetables sizzled together, fried golden-brown - your evening meal was moments from being served.
"If I'd known you were coming by tonight, we'd have made more dinner," you apologised. The only meat you had in your storage was springhares, and one had formed the basis of your supper. Tasty though they were, there wasn't much meat on a springhare, particularly when you were trying to feed not one but two half-wolves.
"Don't fret," your guest reassured you as he sat. "I'll take only a mouthful, if I may."
"Would you like me to hunt tomorrow, my Lady?" Faolán added.
"Sure. Not springhare, though. We've still got a few left, and I'm a bit fed up of it. It seems like all we've eaten lately. If you see a boar or a deer or something, try and get it. Oh, or a sheep! A sheep'd be perfect." That would make a nice change from springhare, and it would keep you and Faolán fed for a while. You might even be able to make something with the fleece.

A look passed between the two shadows, not unlike the glare they'd exchanged when they first met. You gave it little thought. Only Faolán causing trouble, as usual. You didn't understand its significance until the next day.

When you woke the following morning, it was to find the camp empty. No red wolf beside you, or under you. Faolán sometimes set out hunting just before dawn. He was probably off finding something more exciting than springhares. You pulled yourself from your bedroll and began to brew some tea. You scanned the land around you while you waited for the kettle to boil. Expanses of grass, trees dotting the slopes rolling towards the horizon. A silhouette took its place among them, backlit by the morning sky. Tall and broad-shouldered, a pair of pointed ears atop its head, a great woolly carcass slung across its back. You sat up a little straighter and grinned.

"Faolán, hey! Thanks, that looks perfect-"
It wasn't Faolán. Once the figure drew closer, you realised that it was too bulky to be your shadow. A cloak hung down to his ankles. And now that he had moved out of the path of the sun, you could see that his fur was not red, but grey.
"B-Blaidd? Sorry, I thought you were Faolán for a moment. You've been hunting too, eh?"
"I have, but not for me." He set the dead sheep before you. Its head lolled, the neat wound across its throat the only mark on it. The kill was so fresh that the blood staining its woolly neck hadn't fully congealed. It was a good-sized adult too. A prime specimen, in fact, in perfect health other than being dead. Exactly what you'd have asked of Faolán.
"This is for me...? Thank you so much..." His gift had taken you so aback that you practically mumbled your gratitude. He sat beside you and leaned in so he could hear you. "You really didn't have to. You're our guest. And Faolán's a good hunter."
"As am I," he replied. "I have my own meat already. Take it, with my compliments."
You hadn't expected Blaidd to take your request upon himself, yet you weren't going to refuse such kindness. You smiled up at him and caught hold of his hand, squeezing it in a handshake.
"I'll take it. Thanks again. This'll come in handy if Faolán doesn't bring anything back."

He blinked at your hand. His ears twitched and his eyes softened. By the gods, that look in his eyes was so gentle that you'd never have expected it of a warrior like him. Only Faolán had ever looked at you like that before. Maybe all half-wolves had that glow of tenderness buried deep in their eyes. His hand - no gauntlet, you noticed - curled around yours as his gaze turned towards the skyline, towards the watery sunlight that brought the Lands Between into a new day.
"Out hunting, is he?"
"Yeah."

The grey wolf gave a little huff under his breath. His fingers were still wrapped tight around your hand. Um...? You flexed your fingers experimentally. This was that first awkward meeting in the Mistwood all over again. Did Blaidd just not understand how to let go of hands? At the twitch of your hand, Blaidd loosened his grip, enough for you to slip yourself out if you wanted. You hesitated. His hand felt nice around yours, actually. Warm. Big. Protective. Blaidd gave you a few more moments to change your mind, then took an even tighter hold of you. His thumbpad traced circles in the back of your hand. Like your own shadow, Blaidd's hands had much of the beast about them. From each fingertip, and running in a curve along the top and bottom of his palm, dark pads with the texture of leather rose from amidst the fur. You pressed into the soothing stroke, and Blaidd's grip slackened. His padded fingertips trailed over your skin, so light that you barely felt the tickle of his touch as it flowed toward your wrist.

"Rare to see you without your shadow," he murmured. His voice was so soft, so low, that the words put you in mind of a growl... or a purr. "You can fight in your own right, if you need it?"
"There's a dagger in my bag, and another under my pillow." You inclined your head towards your bedroll.
"Good. Although no harm will befall you on my watch. You have my word of that."
"Good to know. I, uh..." You faltered. Without your shadow here, you were free to say the kinds of things that he'd never have let you. "I really appreciate all the help you've given us. There's not been many friends in the Lands Between. Faolán will never say it, but thank you." Blaidd bowed his head, his eyes on the fingers that still lay against your wrist. "And thank you for not taking his behaviour to heart. He's always been a little, um, cheeky."
'Cheeky' was not the right word. Faolán was cheeky with you, and with everyone who wasn't Blaidd. When it came to the grey wolf, a more accurate word was 'hostile'. You didn't want to draw too much attention to your shadow's grudge, though.
"Think nothing of it, but let's not talk of Faolán right now, eh?"

His fingertips skimmed along your forearm. You'd slept in your short-sleeved undershirt - it was bare skin that prickled with goosebumps at the slow, sweeping touch that ghosted inch by inch towards your elbow. You tried to fight the little shiver of pleasure those fingers sent through you. It was... there was nothing to it, right? Blaidd had treated you with nothing but cordiality. All he was doing was touching your arm, as any friend might. There was nothing indecent about it. No, it was all in your head. He couldn't know how such an innocent touch was enough to thrill you. He was just taking advantage of your shadow's absence to let more of his natural warmth show. You would not let on how exciting it was to have his hand on your skin. Maybe Faolán was right about you. You knew that you found your shadow far more attractive than any human you had ever met, but maybe it was just that you had a thing for half-wolves. Maybe, deep down, you really were a wolf's-bitch.
Blaidd leant closer to you, following his hand's journey up your arm. You could almost smell him. His scent was so different to your shadow's - Faolán smelt of autumn sunshine, but Blaidd smelt of moonlit forests. Earth after the rain, the coppery tang of blood, something sweet yet bitter that wrapped itself around your senses. Damn, he smelled good.
"I'd rather take this opportunity to learn more of you, Tarnished. What brings you to the Lands Between, and what you've left behi-"

"What's going on here, then?"
You startled at the voice. Faolán stood a few yards away, with another dead sheep across his shoulders and a face like thunder. Blaidd looked up towards the red wolf, a curious stoniness in his own expression.
"I... I guess we've got two sheep now," you mumbled, with a weak smile that slipped when you saw the humourless grin that Faolán aimed at the pair of you.
"Well," he snarled. "Isn't. This. Cosy. Let me join in."
Without waiting for an answer he threw his kill atop Blaidd's, wrenched you away from the grey wolf and forced himself between you. Blaidd stood and the two shadows stared at each other, hackles raised and ears bolt upright, tails quivering with rage, their lips curling to bare their fangs at one another. You pushed yourself to your feet and tapped your shadow's back.
"What the fuck are you doing, Faolán? All he did was bring us a sheep!"
Faolán glanced to the pair of carcasses, cocking his head dismissively. "...Mine's bigger."
"It's not the size of the sheep that matters," Blaidd countered, "but how it uses its horns."
"And you're an expert in all things horny, no doubt," your shadow spat back.
"Faolán!" you gasped, even if you had to fight a snort of laughter. Blaidd didn't dignify him with an answer beyond a shallow frown. "Whatever's going on here, stop it. You both got a sheep, you both did great, I'm very grateful to both of you. We're all friends. There's no need to fight over it."

One sheep was welcome, but two were excessive. Thank goodness you had the spectral inventory, otherwise so much meat would go to waste. You could hardly refuse such generosity from Blaidd, yet your own shadow had gone to just as much trouble and he would never forgive you for favouring Blaidd over him. So it was two sheep carcasses that the three of you settled down to skin, clean out and butcher. You switched between them every few minutes, helping to prepare each carcass. Blaidd and Faolán both wore a little smile whenever you joined them, and for some reason their hands would brush against yours - Blaidd in particular - as you stripped the meat from the bone.

Between the three of you, it didn't take long to reduce both sheep to a mountain of mutton joints in your spectral storage.
"It's time I took my leave. Until we meet again, Tarnished. ...Faolán."
Your shadow turned his back on Blaidd. You tried to apologise without words, tried to give him a little smile without Faolán noticing.
"Thanks again, Blaidd. We're heading south-west today. Hopefully the next time we meet, we'll have some news of Darriwil." The grey wolf bowed his head to you, and you returned the gesture. Both of you ignored the barking scoff that burst from Faolán. With that, Blaidd departed, and you found yourself watching the shape of your friend ambling away, growing smaller and smaller against the horizon.

As soon as the grey wolf was out of sight, you took a deep breath and turned on your shadow.
"What the HELL was all that about? What were you playing at, being so - Faolán...?" Faolán dropped to his knees before you. His tail was tucked so far between his legs that the tip of it twitched between your feet. He pressed his face against your fingers. You held your hands out for him and he nuzzled between them, whining as you petted his muzzle.
"Faol? Faol, love...?" you whispered.
"Always ready to serve, my Lady." His voice was so faint that you strained to hear it. "Always ready to serve. Please, my Lady, I'm yours... I want whatever you want of me."
The countersignal to the start of a scene, even though you hadn't introduced one. He was desperate to submit. You tilted your head, brow creasing with equal parts worry and confusion. The number of times he'd actually begged you to use him could be counted on one hand. Well, whatever was going on with him, if he thought this would help then you were not going to say no.

The two-sheep incident passed by, but the tension in its wake did not. If anything, whenever Blaidd appeared the friction seemed to thicken. Those times when Faolán had almost accepted the other shadow's presence were at an end. The first time Blaidd approached your camp after the incident, Faolán ran at him, the growl tearing through his mouth so loud and harsh that it made your own throat ache in sympathy. But Blaidd did not take such hostility lying down. He stood his ground, eyes burning as Faolán drew level with him. Every snarl from the red wolf was met by the grey, every bared fang matched. Once more they tried to stare each other down, fur bristling and fangs glinting.
That set the pattern for every encounter between the two wolves, but for all the noise of this new rivalry, it never spilled into actual violence. The two of them simply wound up standing inches apart with their eyes locked on each other, waiting for their opponent to escalate matters, and you'd have to physically push them away from each other.

It had to be a territory thing. Wolves had territories, right? Faolán must feel like Blaidd had no right to share in your camp. Okay, the grey wolf must surely have his own supplies somewhere. Maybe he even had a home nearby. There was no question that he was able to feed himself. He was an ally, though. A friend. He was a guest! No matter what your shadow thought, you were not going to chase away your guest. You were the sharing type, and you had plenty to share, so where was the harm in it?

POV: Blaidd

The Tarnished haunted him. What he'd seen had branded his mind with the image of her, and nothing he did would get rid of the stain. Things weren't so bad when he was active - there was always the search for Darriwil, or making spectral reports to Mistress Ranni, or even hunting, with which he could stave off her phantom. No, it was worse when he retired to his bedroll. Unless he exhausted himself enough to drop to sleep the moment his head touched the pillow, his mind simply would not let him rest until he'd spilled into his hand. Nothing else kept her at bay. Nothing else purged him of the sight of her with that shadow, her lips or her pussy wrapped around his cock. That image was always being added to, as well. Always being bloody embroidered, a tapestry full of wretched little details to torment him further. New words to be spoken in her voice. More skin to be exposed to his greedy gaze - she'd definitely been wearing a shirt when she rode Faolán, but Blaidd's imagination liked to pretend otherwise. Just as it removed the Tarnished's clothes from her, his imagination erased Faolán from the scene and cast himself in the other shadow's role. Those words his mind put into her mouth, that skin that he'd never seen for himself... they were all for him. He hated it and he almost hated her for it. No, he couldn't hate her. Not her. Faolán was the problem.

Blaidd had rarely hated someone on his own behalf. His enmity was usually reserved for those who'd wronged Ranni. Darriwil, for example. And Seluvis was not the most convincing liege either, although he had no concrete evidence that the Preceptor was working against Lady Ranni. Now, though, he was dangerously close to hating that red wolf. The arrogant little whelp who was too bloody narrow-minded to appreciate what he had. Blaidd had done little more than touch her arm and yet Faolán tried to drive him away every time they met. Surely he knew that Blaidd's interest in the Tarnished was beyond that of a comrade. That was the only possible reason why Faolán glared every time their eyes met.

It was fine to be around her. It was perfectly harmless. He tried to tell himself that it was only concern for a newcomer to the Lands Between that drove him to keep an eye on them. This was a dangerous world, and the pair of them were still wet behind the ears. Blaidd was just looking out for his allies, right? And it was okay to spend a few minutes in their camp. It was only a break, a chance for rest and refreshment, an opportunity to exchange new information that might help them close in on Darriwil. Besides, he liked to listen to her talk, even if she got a little too frivolous sometimes. There was a sense of fun about her, and when he found himself despondent at the thought of the traitor eluding him, something about her took his mind off things for a little while. Yes, he liked being around her. He liked how animated her face was, how she showed exactly what she was thinking. He liked that almost medicinal scent to her, sweet and sharp at once. He liked imagining the body she hid under that armour. ...Okay, he liked the thought, but he hated ever thinking of it.

That Faolán, on the other hand... More than anyone else, Blaidd understood what the bond between an Empyrean and a shadow was. He and Ranni were two candles that burned with a single flame, a single soul poured between two vessels. A bond that no force in the Lands Between, nor above it, nor below it, had a hope of severing. It was such a bond that Faolán shared with his own Empyrean. If it wasn't for that, would she have loved him anyway? Surely not. Would her taste really be so poor? What was that red wolf other than a jumped-up cub playing at being a warrior? Just a preening little puppy. He'd seen their camp one morning. He'd seen Faolán sprawled across the Tarnished's lap, writhing in pleasure as she combed him. With an actual brush and comb! Such vanity. Blaidd didn't understand it. Admittedly, Faolán's fur was in good condition. And it wasn't as if Blaidd neglected his own appearance either. It just... was a bit of a waste on his part. The scars that covered his body and broke through his fur gave him a scruffy air of danger that no amount of grooming would mask. He had more important things to do with his time anyway. Let Faolán be a dandy if that was what he wanted. Lady Ranni would never have insulted Blaidd by grooming him like he was a lapdog. He didn't mind the occasional fingers in his fur, but he would much rather be responsible for his own upkeep. He wasn't going to think about what it might feel like to have the Tarnished brush him. To have a comb parting his fur, followed by the questing caress of her fingers. Having those hands stroke him, running down his body until it wasn't fur they met but the skin of his rapidly-hardening... Oh, for fuck's sake.

Chapter Text

Perhaps it was fitting that the most comfortable time for someone who was neither human nor wolf was when it was neither day nor night. Those transitionary periods when the moon was faint and the sun shielded itself with the edge of the earth - when the chill air was thick with the softest song of birds and insects - spoke to something within Blaidd. The dawn and dusk were when he could be most true to his half-wolf nature.

Humans rarely stirred from the safety of their shelters at such times, but today, Blaidd found himself sharing the early hours with another.
This morning's hunting grounds lay below the cliffs of Stormhill. A sounder of boars nosed at the earth, digging up roots and tearing up plants to feed on. A greatsword was too messy for dispatching an animal one wanted to eat. Blaidd crouched, poised and ready to spring, a hunting knife tucked in his hand regardless of whether or not he actually needed it. It was a useful tool, but sometimes he favoured the simplicity of claws and fangs. It never hurt to be prepared, however. The sun, peeking pale on the horizon, glinted on the surface of something poking from the bushes. A triangle of metal among the branches. A spearhead? A swish, a thud. A squeal and a thump as a boar collapsed. Blaidd had caught a glimpse of the arrowhead's tip, coated in dark blood, protruding from the opposite side of its chest before the creature fell. The arrow was large enough to skewer the whole body. The rest of the sounder scattered, trampling tracks in the long grass in their hurry to flee. A familiar red wolf burst from the underground, cut the boar's throat and yanked the arrow out of its corpse, wiping the gore on the grass.

Blaidd stowed the knife away and stepped forward.
"Hunting as well, I see," he called.
Faolán turned to squint at him.
"Oh, absolutely not." He pointed to the carcass with his bloodstained arrow. "This? This beautifully clean shot? Right between the ribs, puncturing both lungs at once to guarantee a quick death? Nah. Complete accident, obviously. I'm just that feckin' good, aren't I?"
Blaidd ignored the sarcasm. "I thought two sheep would have lasted longer than this."
"We still have some mutton," Faolán admitted. "But you know how it is, right? Cooked meat's all well and good but sometimes only raw flesh will do. I don't like to bother my Lady with it, so I just have these little excursions for myself." He pressed a knife to the carcass's pelvis and carved a deep line through the stomach and chest, right up to its neck. "You want any?"
The red wolf had already been more civil to Blaidd than he'd ever been before, simply by virtue of not getting in his face and growling. Now he was offering to share a kill? Blaidd's surprise must have shown in his face, for Faolán continued, "Well, I did scare off the others. They're not coming back anytime soon. And anything left over, I'll just take back for my Lady. How about the hide, you have any use for that?"
Blaidd shook his head. It was odd how much... friendlier the other shadow was when he didn't have his Empyrean around. Still insolent, of course, but Blaidd had overlooked it before and he would overlook it again.
"I'll take it, then." Faolán cut along the centre of each leg, then began to peel the hide from the meat. "My brush needs new bristles."
"Ah, right. Your Lady combs you, doesn't she?"

He hadn't meant to say it. The words had slipped out without permission, without thought. Faolán's hands froze and his head shot up, his amber eyes wide. The expression was gone in an instant, giving way to a smirk that made Blaidd want to kick himself.
"Been watching that and all, have you? And here I thought it was my Lady you've been trying to get into your bed. Was it little old me this whole time?" Faolán batted his lashes. "Sorry, big boy, but you're not my type. My type has an awful lot of overlap with your type, to my mind."
The red wolf dropped his prey and stood, almost writhing in delight as he moved closer to Blaidd and whispered, "But really, is that your thing? Watching other people?"
"I... don't know what you're talking about."

Blaidd had never been a good liar. He'd always been proud of that fact. His word was his bond, and his trustworthiness a badge of honour. Still, there were a couple of times where it might have been nice to be able to lie. Such as when Faolán gave him that condescending smile that told him he didn't believe Blaidd for a second.

"I know you were there when my Lady rode me the other week, eejit. I heard you growling away in the bushes, even if my Lady didn't. And I could smell you too. You stank like you were in your first rut. Make a habit of spying on couples, do you? Your own Empyrean not enough for you?"
To think that this whelp dared sully his beloved Ranni with such accusations! He dared to spew such filth about Blaidd's friend, his liege - his stepsister.
"Don't speak so distastefully of Mistress Ranni...!" he growled.
Faolán shrugged. "Just saying. If you were getting your leg over, you wouldn't be creeping about in the shadows hoping for an eyeful of flesh, would you?"
"I see Lady Ranni as a sister. Do you understand? A sister."
"Oh, a sister now, is she?" Faolán grinned, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Kinky fellow, aren't you? Not only a voyeur but you like a little incest roleplay as well. Are you her extra-big brother, then?"
Blaidd's hand went to his greatsword, fingers clamping tight around the hilt.
"If you ever speak of Ranni like that again, I'll kill you where you stand," he snarled. "Keep her name out of your mouth."
"My, you're a touchy little pervert, aren't you? Well, I knew that already. Verrrrry touchy. Touchy-touchy-touchy."
"Don't accuse me of such depravity when you're the one who's... who's shagging your own sister."
The red wolf hooted with laughter. "Am I bollocks! I haven't even got a sister!"
"Listen to me," Blaidd growled, enunciating every word as if Faolán was a particularly dense and annoying child - which he was. "Your Empyrean. Is. Your sister."
"No. She fecking. Isn't!" The mocking grin slowly slipped from his face, replaced by a frown of confusion when Blaidd refused to dignify him with an answer. "...Ah. Steady on. When you say 'sister', you mean... Ranni's actually your sister?"
How was this such a difficult concept for the red wolf to grasp? Blaidd sighed to himself.
"Of course she's my sister. An Empyrean's shadow is their sibling."
"But how? The Two Fingers made us. Our Empyreans' parents aren't ours."
"We are perhaps not siblings in blood, but Ranni's parents raised me alongside their own children. My Mistress' family accepted me as one of their own, and so I see them as my family in turn."
"...I see," Faolán muttered.
"Was that not the case with you?"
"It wasn't."

That made no sense at all. Blaidd didn't understand. He knew for himself how powerful the bond was between an Empyrean and their shadow. Beyond the ties of blood, or even love - a shadow was part of their master's soul, given physical form by the gods. Faolán and his Empyrean had further complicated matters by the nature of their relationship, the manner by which they'd entwined themselves in adulthood. Yet she had never considered him kin? What of her parents - did they not count the shadow as their child?

"What are you, then?" Blaidd asked.
"I am what I am. I'm my Lady's shadow."
"Yet not her brother."
"Not her brother."
He gave a wry smile that didn't disguise the slightly lost look in the back of his eyes.

"My Lady's parents have some very... fixed ideas about station. Load of bollocks for a pair of commoners from the back of beyond. But as far as they were concerned, the Two Fingers put me on this earth to serve my Lady. I was a servant, little more than a slave. It wasn't proper for my Lady to keep company with a slave. An Empyrean should only associate with her equals."
Faolán had adopted a rough sneer on the last couple of sentences that Blaidd figured must be an impression of one of the Tarnished's parents.
"There were no other Empyreans, of course, so my Lady was expected to spend her free time alone. If I wasn't serving her, her parents kept us apart. We didn't play together, or talk, or eat together... some days I didn't even see her. We were more like neighbours than siblings. But most nights, after her parents were asleep, she would climb from her bedroom window and let me out so we might snatch a few hours together. We were best friends by night and strangers by day. So no, we never saw ourselves as siblings. Her parents were not mine, not in any sense of the word."

Blaidd bowed his head. He tried to imagine his stepmother's face cold and impassive, without the soft glow that lit up Rennala's eyes like starlight when she looked upon any of her children - Blaidd included. He tried to imagine a whole childhood of being loved by nobody except Ranni, with even that an act of transgression. A few seconds were enough to make his heart sore.
"Do you feel better for that, now? That my Lady and I are not as kinky as you assumed?"
"Something of that nature had never occurred to me. You have my apologies."
The other shadow snorted. "Joke's on you. We're kinky as hell. Just not in the way you think."
"I don't want to know." Blaidd felt his cheeks sting from flushing. Solemn Faolán had a time limit; the red wolf was back to his usual, uninhibited self.
"Sure you do! And even if you don't - which you do, you bush-wanking deviant- I'm going to tell you anyway, because you need to know." Faolán hooked his thumb under his choker, pushing out the front of it for Blaidd's scrutiny. "You see this?"

He'd never really looked at the item before. He'd noticed the leather choker around the other shadow's neck before, but had paid it little thought. It was just another part of his usual attire. In the centre of the choker was a brooch of some kind, a little brass emblem that shone against the brown leather. A brass heart cradled between a pair of hands, adorned with a small crown. It wasn't a design that Blaidd had ever seen before. Perhaps it was the crest of the Tarnished's family?

"What does it mean?" he asked.
"Are you thick or what? It's my collar, isn't it!"
He'd meant the design in the centre, not the whole choker! Whatever he'd been about to say died in his throat and became little more than a flustered cough. A shadow's purpose was to serve their master, but the thought of being collared like an animal did not sit easily with Blaidd. Except the other shadow had implied it was some kind of... some kind of sex thing. If that was the case, then it meant that Faolán - Faolán, of all people - was submissive. Surely not. He had to be mistaken.
"...She truly makes you wear a collar?"
"There's no 'makes' about it. I'm proud to wear it. It shows that I'm hers. I live to serve her, and I want everyone to know about it."
Bloody hell. Blaidd didn't notice he was chewing his lip as he thought. If Faolán was submissive, then that made the Tarnished a... Well then. No wonder Faolán struck him as the pampered lapdog type. For all the banter between them, for all that the red wolf liked to ruffle people's feathers, the Tarnished truly was the one keeping him in his place. It couldn't be an easy task. There must be more to her than met the eye. Something that could wrestle obedience from such a fellow, even if the Two Fingers had already bound him to her will.

Faolán's voice dropped to a breathy growl as he leaned closer.
"Now that's a little hint to you, for free. Nice little friendly hint. My Lady is not for the likes of you. It's a commitment. If you're not man enough to submit, then I suggest you look elsewhere for your twelve seconds of fun. I don't think you could handle the kinds of things that I do for her, and I don't think you should try. So don't let me catch you bothering her again, or one of my little friends -" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, towards the quiver full of arrows that hung at his back. "- is going to find out just how thick your skull is."

Blaidd respected the relationship that existed between a shadow and their Empyrean. Nothing else came close to such a bond. And now he knew exactly what they were to each other, perhaps Blaidd stood less chance of wooing the Tarnished than ever. But who did that pup think he was, throwing around such threats? Limgrave may be among the safer regions of the Lands Between, but this place would eat Faolán alive if it had a mind to. Besides, he and the Tarnished got along perfectly well when her shadow gave them some peace. She'd invited him into her camp, shared her food, spoken with him like a friend. And she hadn't pushed him away when he brought her the sheep. She'd let him sit beside her. She'd let him caress her arm. On what grounds could Faolán object when his Empyrean didn't mind Blaidd at all? He drew himself up to his full height and glared at the red wolf.
"I'd like to see you try it, pup."
Golden-brown eyes burned back at him, narrowed almost into slits. "Oh, I will, I swear. Just give me a reason."

"Ready to serve?"
"...Always ready to serve."

There had been something in your shadow's face, the mists of odd thoughts swirling deep in Faolán's eyes, but the blindfold obscured them. Now all you saw were the pricked-up ears almost quivering in excitement, the tongue running over sharp fangs. It wasn't only because of his size that you always blindfolded him with whatever shirt you'd been wearing that day. Without his sight, his other senses -already wolfishly sensitive - worked even harder to compensate, and having the scent of you so close to his snout got him salivating without you even having to do anything.

You stood over the seated wolf, one foot to either side of his hips. You would have towered over him if he'd been human-sized, but as it was, the position brought your heads level.
"You can't see anything, right?"
"Not a thing."
You swooped in and kissed him on the tip of the nose. His little startle at the contact told you he'd spoken the truth. He hadn't seen you coming this time - so he wouldn't see you coming later, in a very different sense.
"And you remember the safewords?"
He clicked his tongue, probably rolling his eyes behind the blindfold. "Of course I remember. 'Red' to stop, 'yellow' to do something else, 'green' to keep going. Hundreds of times we've done this. I don't need a reminder every single time."
You ignored his complaint and busied yourself with your trousers instead. Unfastening them at the waist, you wriggled as you shimmied them down your hips and stepped out of them.
"I have to make sure anyway," you protested. "You need to be able to tell me how you are. And now you've talked over me taking my trousers off. I'm not going to do this if my audience isn't appreciative-"
"I'm appreciative, my Lady," he answered quickly.
"You better be. It's not everyone who's honoured with listening to me get myself off."
Faolán muttered something under his breath. Your hands paused on the knot tied at your hip. "Pardon?"
"Bet Blaidd would love to."

You were glad Faolán was blindfolded, otherwise he'd have cackled at the blush that stole over your face. It was so difficult to keep secrets from your shadow; he just seemed to instinctively know everything you tried to hide. He must have figured out you had... well, maybe a little bit of a crush on Blaidd. Typical! He'd never let you live this down.

"Not funny. Now shut up and behave or you're going to miss everything." You picked at the knotted strings again. "After I went to the trouble of wearing your favourite underwear as well! You know, the ones that tie at each side. The ones you pull loose every time you see me wearing them."
Faolán grinned to himself, his ears flicking at the sound of cords being slipped loose, and the soft rustle of fabric brushing along your inner thighs as you let your underwear drop.
"You heard that, didn't you? The last bit of clothing I was wearing, and it's gone now." The evening air was cool on your bare skin. The chilliness combined with the pleasure of having your shadow before you - naked except his choker and your shirt across his eyes - sent a little shiver through you. "How's that feel? I'm inches in front of you, completely naked, and all you can do is sit there like a good boy and listen to me."

You skimmed your hands across your stomach, trailing lightly up your body until your fingers met the curves of your breasts. Your breath caught, a groan stifling into a purr as you cupped your breasts in your hands and gave them a gentle kneading. One of Faolán's ears pivoted towards you.
"Can you hear my hands too, or was it just my voice?"
"I have a pretty good idea of what your hands are doing, my Lady."

You ran one hand down yourself again. Your touch tickled over ever more sensitive skin, causing you to bite your slip at the shudders coursing through you, until you crossed your abdomen and found the very top of your slit. You traced one finger down your pussy and slowly sank it into you.

"How about now?" you asked, curling your finger to follow your depths.
"I don't think anyone can help hearing that. There's some poor sod the other side of Limgrave trying to sleep but he thinks he can hear his house sinking into a marsh."
"What's that supposed to mean?!" You knew full well - even you could hear the slick stickiness of every caress. It still didn't mean he was allowed to say such a thing!
"Only that you're one wet wolf's-bitch, my Lady."
You tutted. "Lines! Twenty lines, afterwards. 'My Lady is not a wolf's-bitch, and her pussy has just the right amount of wetness, thank you very much'."
"That's really what you want me to write...?"
"You're just mad because I'm not letting you see or touch it. All you get to do is listen, and imagine."
He licked his lips. "Then let me listen to you."

Your other hand slipped down to join the first, spreading yourself so that you could finger yourself more easily. With more room to play with yourself, your movements grew more exaggerated. Each plunge of fingers inside your pussy was louder than the last. You winced, a shuddering little gasp escaping you as your fingertip brushed over the edge of your G-spot.
"I guess you're right..." you breathed, before letting your tone melt into a taunt dripping with honey-sweetness. "Having you blindfolded must have excited me more than I realised..."
While one hand focused on exploring your depths, the other went to your clit. The little nub of flesh was so sensitive that you almost flinched at the first touch. It was too much for more than the slowest of rubs at first, but you picked up speed and worked a little harder at yourself until you were almost grinding against your hands, your knees threatening to buckle under you.
"Do you like it when I tease you? Letting you hear me stroking my pussy like this?"
He nodded. All the little changes working through Faolán's face were a delight. The subtle shifts among the folds of your shirt-blindfold whenever his brow twitched. The flickering grin below, with its glint of fangs and occasional flash of tongue. The sharp intakes of breath when he heard something he particularly liked. The scuffing noise of his tail wagging across the ground.
"So cute - you're so cute, do you know that?"
"I know, my Lady." The smug little asshole was practically preening. You laughed and flicked his nose.
"I know full well you know, you arrogant little-"

You yelped as he seized your hand between his jaws. His teeth dug into your flesh, not hard enough to puncture the skin but with just enough pressure to hold you in place. It was a grab, not a bite. His tongue ran along your hand and wound between your fingers to taste your juices. You yanked your hand free.
"You want more lines, don't you?"
"I sure do."
"You might be c-cute but you're a fucking brat."
You clicked your tongue, and your faux-sigh disappeared into a moan as you ran two fingers down your folds.
"Damn it," you muttered in a stage-whisper as you worked your fingers along yourself to slick them up once more, then guided them back inside you . "He's licked my fingers clean, I'll have to get them wet again..."
A lustful growl rumbled in his throat, loud enough to drown out even the sound of your wetness against your fingers. Fuck, that enormous toothy grin of his was insufferable.
"Okay, you know what? You know what, you smug little wolf...? You want lines? You're not getting them. Lines are a punishment, and if you want them, they're not a punishment. Instead, you're going to lie down for me."

You guided Faolán onto his back and sat in the middle of his chest, legs akimbo and feet planted somewhere above his shoulders. He'd have had a hell of a view if it wasn't for the blindfold, and the stillness of his head - as focused as a predator on prey - told you he knew it. That, of course, had nothing to do with your decision to just go for it. To rock your hips against him, grinding into his chest, as your hand worked at your clit. To pant as much as you needed, moan as loud as you wanted - and then some, just to mess with him. His body was so warm, his fur so soft, and grinding against him as you played with yourself added a whole new dimension of pleasure. Your breath ran ragged. Every exhale carried a note of desperation in it. You were almost there. Only a little more - a little more pressure on your clit, a little more rubbing your pussy against your shadow, and then -

"I'm - Shit, my legs are shaking so much, Faol..."
"I know, my Lady, I can feel you shivering."
"I don't know if you c-can feel through your fur how fucking wet I am..." you panted. "Even m-my thighs are soaked..."
"Do it, then... You sound so close..." Chewing his lip didn't disguise the wide grin on his muzzle as he growled, "Can I hold onto your legs, my Lady?"
Panting too hard to form any sound more coherent than a moan, you simply nodded. Then you realised that there was no way your blindfolded half-wolf would see your response. You shuffled, rocking your hips forward so you could keep grinding on him as you took hold of his wrists and wrapped his hands around your calves. That shift in position pushed your poor sensitive pussy against Faolán in just too right a way. You wouldn't even need your hands to get you off. Pushing your hips into him as hard as you could, you ground yourself back and forth against his chest. As for Faolán, his ears quivered and his tail thumped against the ground with every groan that spilled from you, every rock of your hips. He was almost drooling at being used not only as a chair but a sex toy.
You fought every instinct to close your eyes and let the feeling spreading through you envelop you fully. You kept your eyes on the red wolf. You wanted to see his reaction to having you reach climax on top of him. Your eyes all but flickered shut, but you forced them to stay open, forced them to concentrate on the shadow below you as you came. Through the sound of your heart pounding in your ears, the rush of pleasure that turned you to a quivering mess, you kept your attention on Faolán. His hands skimmed your legs in approval, grasp tightening on your trembling limbs as you rode out your orgasm on top of him. He let out a shaky little sigh, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards in a lopsided smile you couldn't resist. It was almost a shame that he was blindfolded - you loved the shine to his eyes when he grinned like that. As soon as your senses returned and you regained the feeling in your body, you bent down and kissed him as you unwrapped your shirt from his head. His tongue swiped across your mouth, and you tasted a hint of yourself on him.

"Such a good boy. You've served well. Now, let me just..."
Faolán rolled onto his side to watch you walk through the camp as you set the maythen tea to boil. Along with the the bag that contained his brush and comb, you brought a little water to mop your shadow's chest with. He was happy to let you sit on him as you brought yourself to climax, but he would draw the line at letting your juices gum up his coat if they dried. Always pernickety about the fur. You rinsed the stickiness from his chest, then combed through it to make sure the fur hadn't clumped.

"Is that better?" you asked.
"Almost. Get on my face and I'll return the favour."
You grinned to yourself as you got onto your knees across Faolán's head. His muzzle had always fit so perfectly between your thighs that you'd often joked that the Two Fingers had designed the shape of his head for that exact purpose. Your shadow would counter that the Greater Will had granted your mother the grease recipe you used so liberally because her daughter was always destined to become a wolf's-bitch. It went without saying that he got lines for that. Faolán lapped at you, his tongue sweeping along each thigh in turn as he cleaned you up. You leant forwards, bracing yourself with one hand while using the other to keep brushing him.
"That's my good boy," you cooed at the delicate flutter of tongue-tip on your folds. "That's my best wolf."

The phrase brought back something Faolán had said earlier in the scene. You squirmed a little to even think of it.
"What was all that with mentioning Blaidd earlier?" You gave a weak chuckle, trying to laugh it off. "It's bad enough that you try to start shit every time you see him - do you really have to bring it into the bedroom as well?"
"Little gobshite would love being brought into the bedroom," the half-wolf muttered between your legs.
"What are you on about?"
Your face flooded with colour. Your body had picked up on Faolán's meaning before your mind did, well before your shadow replied, "He's carrying a torch for you."
"You - you what? Don't be stupid - he's a friend! "
"The kind of friend who shows up when I'm not around and cops a feel?"
"Of my arm, Faol. My arm! It was a normal, friendly touch and it didn't mean anything!" No, it didn't mean anything, despite the way your heart skipped a beat at the memory of the thrill his fingertips sent through you. Faolán scoffed, a hot burst of air hitting your skin.
"Come on, my Lady, you must be able to smell him. Every time he sees you there's a Festival of Pheromones in his braies and he's hoping you'll be the guest of honour."
"You're n-not funny anymore." Blaidd had... smelled really good when he leant over you that time, while his hand trailed up your forearm. Surely he always had that furry, foresty, musky kind of scent, though? Perhaps it had seemed a little stronger that time, but you put that down to him being so much closer to you than usual. "He can't be. He's too serious for that kind of thing. He's got Darriwil on his plate, and his service to Ranni... I don't think he's the type to get involved with anyone."
The wolf brought up one arm around your thigh to hold up his hand before you. His thumb and forefinger were almost touching. "Just because he has no game doesn't mean that he's not this close to bending you over a rock."
"No he's not!"
"I promise you. Next time he comes round, have a look. You have my word that, at some point, he'll be at half-mast."
"I'm not just going to stare at his bits!" You scowled between your legs at your insolent shadow. "Why are you so obsessed with him, anyway? After him yourself or something?"
"It's my job to protect you."
"From Blaidd's dick?"
"From anything that might harm you. The man's an eejit; I could take him with my eyes closed. But he might do something stupid, something that could put you in danger. I'm not going to let him, that's all I'm saying."
"...And I'm not going to let you forget about your lines," you reminded him, more to change the subject than anything. "Twenty, remember? 'My Lady is not a wolf's-bitch, and her pussy has just the right amount of wetness, thank you very much'."
"Can't believe you really want the 'thank you very much'," Faolán muttered, planting a kiss over your clit before giving you a quick slap on the ass to motion for you to get off his head.
"And five of 'I do not slap my Lady's arse without permission' while you're at it," you added as you clambered off him.
He stuck his tongue out at you but settled himself by the fire with a sheet of parchment and a tiny bottle of ink. While he busied himself in his task, you buried yourself in your bedroll and stared through the wisps of steam escaping the tea-kettle as you mulled over Faolán's words.

Your shadow really thought Blaidd was attracted to you? Chivalrous, straight-laced Blaidd? Well, that was... something. No wonder he kept trying to drive the other half-wolf away. It had to be a load of nonsense. Faolán had always been a troublemaker - and yet everything about him had seemed so sincere. You had seen no faltering in his expression, heard no waver in his voice. He was telling the truth, or at least what he believed to be the truth, which wasn't necessarily the same thing. That ember in your heart, the one that burned a little brighter at the thought of Blaidd, flared. What would it be like to... No. No, you weren't going to think about that. It felt like cheating to imagine being with another man. Faolán was your best friend, your lover, the other half of you. You'd never betray him like that, especially for the one-night stand that he seemed to think Blaidd wanted. Such a thing would hurt you as much as it hurt him. But... a little fantasy was harmless, right? It didn't mean you didn't love Faolán. It was just the idea of Blaidd having such feelings that intrigued you so. Faolán made it sound as if he was only interested in a quick fuck, but did the spirit of submission run as strongly in the other half-wolf as it did in your own? You'd long theorised that Faolán's shadowbound nature contributed to his love of being dominated by you. What if Blaidd was the same? There was no chance of that, however. The mere mention of it would probably send him running. But in your fantasy, Blaidd and Faolán were two sides of the same Rune. Another half-wolf, another shadow, another submissive. That would be - if only Blaidd really was inclined to submission, if he'd ever pledge himself to anyone in that way, and Faolán would somehow accept him serving you... Fuck, that was a hell of a thought. Your hand inched between your thighs. Just for tonight, you would allow yourself this fantasy. Just this once.

Chapter Text

POV: Tarnished

Just before your adventures in the Lands Between truly began, you had learnt the hard way that you couldn't die. One moment you and Faolán had been exploring the grounds of an ancient chapel, still buzzing from the rush of narrowly defeating that... that horrid, scuttling mass of rotting arms. The next moment, the earth crumbled from under your feet and sent the pair of you tumbling down the most treacherous of cliffs. The last thing you remembered was your joint cries of alarm, the sounds snatched away from your mouths by the force of the wind hurtling past you, as you tried to clutch for each other before the distant ground smashed the life from you.

Nobody should have survived such a fall, and neither of you did, yet neither of you remained dead.

Your shadow's revival was no surprise. You already knew that he woke mere minutes after death. You, on the other hand...

"What happened?" you'd mumbled, your hands meeting fur as you pushed yourself up. You blinked as you tried to make out your surroundings in the dingy light. What even was this place? You had landed in water - the shallows of a stream, perhaps - and a set of stone steps lay on the bank before you, leading up to a pair of doors flanked by solemn statues. Was this still part of the chapel, then?
The body curled around you startled at your movement. Faolán lifted his head and a pair of amber eyes stared into yours. The fur below them was marred by grubby streaks of tear-tracks.

"M-My Lady? My Lady...?" Your shadow scooped you into his arms and buried his head in the crook of your neck, hugging you to him like a doll. You cuddled into his chest and ran your fingers through the fur on the back of his head. For the sake of his pride you pretended not to hear the sobs quavering in his breath.
"What happened, Faol? All I remember is us falling. Did we...?"
"We b-both died," he confirmed.
"Both of us?" You turned your hand over and stared at it. Your fingers flexed. Your blood was flowing, your skin was warm. There was no question that you were alive, and no sign that you'd been dead. "But if I died, how come I've woken up?"
"I don't know. It took you much longer than when I come back."
"How much longer?"
Faolán sighed to himself, his eyes misting over. "Must have been a few hours by now."
"A few hours? Is that how long you've been wrapped around me, then?" you teased, only for your smirk to falter when he didn't jeer back at you as you'd expected. He nuzzled closer into you instead, trapping you even tighter between his arms.
"I thought you were gone, my Lady." His voice was hushed and mournful, broken by the ghost of unshed tears. "I wanted to stay with you. I thought that if I stayed long enough, I could follow you."

Your fingers curled in his fur, and the back of your throat started to prickle.

"Don't do that. I'd never want you to follow me, no matter what happens." You kissed along the side of his muzzle. "Not even death's going to take us away from each other. Now we know we'll both come back. I'll never leave you behind, love, so don't cry..."
Even as you spoke, your eyes brimmed over with tears and you hid your face in his neck, wiping your eyes against his fur.
"...Don't do that, it gums up my coat..."
You chuckled to yourself through your tears. That note of distaste to his voice sounded more like the Faolán you knew. With a sniffle, you sat up again.
"Let me go once you're ready," you whispered. "I want to check that we're both okay."

Your shadow wasn't ready to let go of you quite so soon. He needed a little while longer to hold you, his arms tight around you and his cold nose snuffling against your cheek as if he was learning your scent all over again. If you were honest with yourself, you needed that contact as much as he did, that reassurance that both of you were alive and well and together. Not that you'd admit it, of course. You would always frame it as indulging your needy shadow, even if you knew that he knew you better than that. Once he finally relinquished his hold on you, you looked yourself over. You had no broken bones, no bruises or blemishes - absolutely no evidence that you had plummeted from a cliff. Faolán, on the other hand, was tender almost all over. He winced wherever you touched him. You parted his fur and found the skin underneath blossoming in red and purple. The poor half-wolf was covered in bruises, and a couple of bones seemed to have fractured in the fall. You bound those broken limbs in knitbone leaves and raked your fingers through his fur soothingly, careful not to bump against his skin too hard, and he pressed himself into your touch as much as he could without hurting himself.

You weren't sure at the time whether it was the Erdtree's Grace that guided your Tarnished soul back to you or whether the Two Fingers had revived their Empyrean champion. Once you reached the Lands Between, rumours met your ears of other Tarnished who shared the same quirk of waking up a few hours after death, none the worse for wear, with the glimmer of Grace before them. So it wasn't unique to you; it wasn't a sign of the Two Finger's favour. Still, if nothing else, Faolán had learnt how you felt when he'd died before your eyes. Now he understood why you'd done what you'd done. He understood why the two of you had to run away together.

In any case, you hadn't died since that chapel, but it was a near thing. More than once, especially around bloody Stormhill, you'd come dangerously close to losing your life to soldiers or monsters or bandits or anything else that decided it didn't like your face. Goodness only knew how many times you might have died by now if it wasn't for Faolán. It wasn't that you weren't a competent fighter in your own right. You were skilled with a dagger and not too shabby with a bow, although the dagger was far more natural to you. The problem was that so many of your opponents - the humanoid ones, anyway - had swords. They occupied a middle ground of being just out of reach of your knife while also being too close to shoot at. Faolán was the opposite to you; he was decent with a dagger but excelled with a bow. While you were locked in close combat, he covered you from afar. You trusted Faolán's aim, but it was still alarming to see a blurred streak, to hear and feel the rush of air in its slipstream as an arrow the size of a spear passed within inches of you to skewer your enemy. It would be all too easy to move at the wrong time and get yourself killed. It didn't matter that you would wake up in a few hours' time. Your poor lover had been traumatised enough by your death even when he wasn't responsible for it. What would it do to him if he saw you crumple to the ground with his arrow sticking out of your chest? No, you needed to master a new way of fighting. You needed a sword of your own.

Your search of Limgrave had not revealed Darriwil's location, but yielded plenty of weapons. Most of them had gone in your spectral inventory, but you each kept a newly acquired greatsword to hand. Yours had been looted from a carriage in Stormhill, and a merchant in the Weeping Peninsula had supplied a blade - a Zweihänder, you thought he'd called it? - so big that even Faolán could wield it. So you had your swords, and you and your shadow were perfectly matched in ability. To be precise, neither of you had a clue what you were doing. You had a few practice fights between yourselves, even if your difference in height made it challenging to spar together. And you managed to defeat a few enemies, but it was by using the sword more like a sharpened club than anything. The weapons proved so cumbersome that you soon drifted back to your knife and Faolán to his greatbow. If you wanted to become proficient with a sword, you needed someone with actual martial training, someone willing to teach both you and Faolán. You needed -

"Must we really ask Blaidd?" the red wolf grumbled.
"It's either that or we keep swinging them about until we reach a breakthrough."
"I'll take swinging them about."
But he eventually agreed that you couldn't afford to put off mastering your swords. There were just too many situations where neither a bow nor a dagger would cut it, and you were equally fervent in your desire to protect each other. Faolán might complain about it as much as he pleased, but the truth was that you both needed Blaidd.

You didn't have long to wait. The grey wolf drifted into your camp that same evening, and over dinner you asked him to train you both.
"Not a bad idea," Blaidd agreed. "While you are capable with your own weapons, I fear they will hardly stand up to such as Darriwil. It's no criticism of you, but the nature of the traitor."
"Is he a swordsman, too?"
"Not just any swordsman. A Bloodhound Knight. Fleet of foot, able to strike and then dart away before his foe even knows what hit them."
"Ah." You picked through your food, pushing it about with your fork as you thought. "So if I went for him with a dagger, he'd be out of range before I can stab him?"
"Most likely." He cast a scar-burdened eye towards your shadow. "And I've never seen an arrow loosed at him that didn't fall well short of the mark."
Faolán smirked. "Maybe everyone who's ever tried can't shoot for shite. Did you ever think of that?"
"He and I have faced some very worthy archers in the past," Blaidd replied, his voice soft and almost weary.
"But none of them were me, were they?"
"We get it, Faol," you cut in. "You're the Greater Will's gift to a bow and clearly the humblest man in the Lands Between. Let's not pass up the chance to learn how to use a sword properly, okay? We'll probably need it."

You turned back to Blaidd. "How does tomorrow suit you?"
His ear flicked, his expression turning grim at your words. "Apologies, but not tomorrow. A traveller shared an interesting titbit with me. There is a cave near the Church of Elleh, rumoured to be some kind of lair. It may be Darriwil's. Tomorrow I mean to search the place. If it proves fruitless, then I will return to you the following day and give you whatever training you desire. Where will you be in two days' time?"
"No, we'll come with you," you told him. "We said we'd help you find Darriwil. If it's his lair, then we want to fight him."
"Very well." Blaidd bowed his head, a flicker of a smile crossing his muzzle. "Thank you both."
"And if you teach us how to use a sword, I'll teach you what I know about daggers. Not that you need it, but it's the least I can do to reciprocate."
"No, I would appreciate that. One cannot be too prepared."
You grinned. "And I'm sure the Greater Will's gift to a bow would happily teach you about archery. Wouldn't you, Faolán?"
Your shadow stared back at you. His golden eyes were half-closed, his ears low, his mouth tight with disapproval.
"Faolán? ...Faolán. Faol."
No response. He looked like he'd rather grind swamp mud into his fur. The whisking of his tail, however, told you that he wasn't truly opposed to the idea - he was just being petulant for the fun of it. Sure enough, when you stared him in the eyes hard enough, his composure cracked and a snort escaped from him. You sighed.
"Faolán. You're going to teach him archery, right?"
"Fiiiiiiine. Only if he teaches me something good, though."

Since the three of you would be travelling together in the morning, you invited Blaidd to share your sleeping quarters. Faolán huffed with indignation, but you ignored him and chose to focus on the surprised little smile that lit up your guest's face and glowed in his voice.
"Well, if you're willing, then I'd appreciate it."

Despite your shadow's opposition, Blaidd was perfectly gentlemanly about spending the night in your camp. He didn't encroach on you at all, either in space or resources. When you gave yourself a quick wash with a rag and a tea-kettle of hot water, he made a point of turning away and keeping his distance. Even his bedroll was set out to the opposite side of the campfire from you and Faolán. To see the way the red wolf bristled at him, however, you'd have thought Blaidd had sauntered in, slapped you on the arse and announced that your camp was now his.
As soon as you lay down to sleep, Faolán pressed himself to your back and all but enveloped you in his body. His legs and his tail tucked up below you until your lower half was encased in fur, while his arms wrapped around you and pulled you against his chest. His muzzle lay across the side of your neck, warm and slightly bristly as he nuzzled into you. You reached your hand up to stroke along his muzzle and felt the muscles along his nose crinkle, felt the vibration of his growl as he stared across the camp at the twin specks of ghostly light that hovered a few inches from the ground, one above the other. You'd seen it often enough from your own shadow to recognise it for what it was. Eyeshine. Blaidd's eyes reflected what little light there was in a pure white glow, equal parts eerie and beautiful. The other half-wolf had turned to face you, but at the sound of your shadow growling he blinked and rolled over again. Faolán gave a self-satisfied sigh and cuddled closer into your back.

The following day, you and your allies set out further into the west of Limgrave. The cave Blaidd had spoken of lay at the feet of Stormhill's cliffs. It was tucked out of the way of the prevailing winds, and had ready access to fresh water. It was the kind of place you might have made camp if the providence of Grace hadn't already granted you so many other options. Many travellers must have thought the same as you, for the winding tunnels and chambers were lined with the evidence. The remains of an old campfire here, circled by chipped crockery and rickety stools. Hordes of splintering barrels or a cracked pot over there. But the sheer number of bodies you encountered - fresh corpses, skeletal remains, and every stage in between - suggested that the cave was not the haven it appeared. Perhaps Darriwil really was in here, slaughtering anyone who stumbled too close to his hiding place and leaving the bodies about as a warning? If this was his hideout, he had to be right in the very depths of the cave. The only living creatures you had met thus far had been a pack of wolves picking their way through a forsaken camp, chewing on what was left of its human inhabitants and nosing through their scattered belongings. Perhaps they'd have gone for you too. The snarling growls that met you, the slinking in a wide circle around you, certainly put you in mind of an ambush. But when you were flanked by not one but two enormous half-wolves who flashed their fangs as they growled back, the pack thought better of it and skulked away, watching you as you passed them by and ventured deeper into the caves. There would be no fresh human meat for them today.

The cave opened into a sort of chamber, large enough that you saw the husks of several camps dotted about the place. Someone had even set up a canopy to shelter from the water dripping from the stalactites. The stagnant, mineral scent of cave water stung at your nostrils. It had formed puddles and pools in the uneven ground. Fragments of bones glittered in their depths like pebbles. Just going off the number of half-submerged skulls, dozens of people must have lost their lives in this cave - and the creature responsible was running towards you, some kind of colossal blade over its head.

You had never seen a Bloodhound Knight before, and this thing was not what you'd expected. It appeared nothing more than dingy fur and bone. You'd thought Blaidd's face was scarred, but at least he still had one. Your opponent had a mere skull, with only the tiniest patches of fur and skin left clinging to a bony snout filled with bloodstained fangs. Was this truly Darriwil? The frown you caught on Blaidd's face, even through the neutral mask that his face slipped into during combat, told you that something was wrong. There was no spark of recognition in his eye, no hint that he had any connection to this creature. Whatever you'd stumbled across, it was not Darriwil.

The battle that ensued proved exactly why you needed a sword. Your foe was closer in height to Blaidd and Faolán than to you, and even its cleaver was roughly the same size as you. Trying to get in close enough to stab with a dagger would be a death wish. As one shadow drew his sword and the other readied his bow, you took up your own sword and charged at the enemy.
It was over almost before it began. You had an expert swordsman at your side and an expert archer covering the both of you. Even so, you'd have liked to land more than a couple of glancing blows before, with an echoing splash, the creature collapsed into one of the deeper puddles, its back riddled with great arrows and its front a tatter of slashes that seeped blood into the water below.

"Did I... even do anything?" you grumbled, eyeing the sword you'd tried to smack the enemy with.
"Don't be so hard on yourself." Blaidd laid his hand on your shoulder. "It's not your fault that our foe was ill-prepared for three of us. Darriwil will prove a much worthier challenge, of that I'm sure. I look forward to testing your mettle against him - from the little I saw, you may have the makings of a fine warrior."
You smiled up at him, grateful for the little glow in your heart that his kind words brought. He offered you a shy smile in return. You'd long admired in Faolán how expressive a shadow's face was, for all it differed from a human's physiology, and even the weight of Blaidd's scars didn't hide the gentle sincerity that shone in his eyes. Blaidd had meant every word of what he'd said. Even if you'd been so far outclassed by your comrades that you hadn't gotten to do much, Blaidd still saw promise in you. You patted the hand on your shoulder, and it squeezed you a little tighter.
"Excuse me?" Your shadow paced over, unstringing his bow and wrenching the arrows out of the corpse's flesh. "Can I get a pat too? It's not as if I didn't hit him, like, three times out of three."
You rolled your eyes but grinned as the red wolf scooped you up and cradled you against his chest so you could ruffle the fur between his ears.
"We all did good, you big fussy puppy."

"So that wasn't Darriwil?" Faolán asked as you set out your equipment and prepared to light the campfire.
The grey wolf shook his head. "A Beastman. A being of Farum Azula, the crumbling city in the sky."
"Well, at least we didn't die," you pointed out, but now that the adrenaline of battle had worn off, vanquishing the Beastman had been a hollow victory and all three of you knew it. There went a whole day with nothing to show for it. With the cavern exhausted and no other clues to his whereabouts, Darriwil's trail had gone cold yet again. At least a little Grace glittered in the darkness to lift your spirits, turning the cave into the refuge it perhaps should have always been. The glimmer of gold was toward the mouth of the cave, away from the wolf pack's den - they already recognised that Blaidd and Faolán were stronger than them, but once they realised that you bore them no ill will, they left you in peace.

Another evening, another meal, another camp shared with both your shadow friends. Another evening of one half-wolf's blissful music and the other's short but fascinating tales. Another night where Blaidd slept at the opposite side of the fire and Faolán slept curled around you, protecting you from a threat that didn't exist. Everything he'd claimed of the other shadow had to be a mistake. There was simply no evidence that Blaidd saw you as anything more than a friend. You tried to wrestle your feelings into the same mould. Remembering that you'd actually touched yourself to the thought of another man when you had someone like Faolán, the guilt ate away at you until you felt nauseous with it. Things were just... complicated. If only you could untangle everything you felt about Blaidd, bring it out into the light and examine it until you'd figured out what the hell was going on. You liked him as a friend and you respected him as an ally, but you couldn't deny that you were attracted to him. And there was something in there, a spark buried deep within the clutter of emotions, that was a bit too much like how you felt for Faolán. That fact... that was what unsettled you even more than having masturbated to the thought of Blaidd. A single lapse into fantasy, a single instance of misdirected lust, was one thing. The idea that you might just be falling in love with someone else, especially when your feelings towards your own lover hadn't waned in the least, was another.

Chapter Text

POV: Tarnished

With no more leads to follow in the search for Darriwil, the three of you agreed to devote the next two days to practising combat. On the first, Blaidd would tutor you and your shadow in the ways of the sword. The following day would see you and Faolán cover the basics of knife-fighting and archery, respectively. You planned to join in with the archery, of course. It wasn't just an opportunity to brush up on your own skills, which you would definitely benefit from, but a means of keeping an eye on Faolán - there was every chance that he'd try and teach the other wolf the wrong techniques on purpose. Before you reached the archery, though, you had a whole lot of sword-training to get through.

It transpired that everything you and your shadow had done to try and tame your swords had been wrong. You held them wrong, you stood wrong, you swung them wrong. Blaidd corrected your grip first, his hand curling around yours as he guided your fingers and thumb into the correct position.
"Feel how much more secure that is," he said softly. "It's not like holding a club, or even a large dagger. A sword is its own beast. Now that will give you a greater range of movement, and it won't go flying out of your hands, even if you..."
He lifted your arm together with the sword and eased you through a few slow practice swipes from various directions, a few slashes and thrusts, just to give you a feel for how to hold it as it moved, how to change the grip in your rear hand between the different motions.
"Is that better?" he asked as he lowered your arm to a neutral position.
"Yeah, it sits way better like this. Thanks." You offered him a little grin, and the corners of his mouth twitched upwards. His hand, still on yours, brushed across your skin as his fingertips slipped through the gaps between your fingers. The tentative beginnings of intertwining your hands. Your heart skipped a beat.

Faolán cleared his throat. "Excuse me? Can I get my grip corrected too? Pretty sure I'm doing this wrong."
You and Blaidd lifted your heads to look in the other wolf's direction. Your shadow stood a couple of yards away, glaring at your entwined hands. His own fist was clenched tight around his sword, which was... facing backwards. Not even slightly a genuine mistake. You tutted, and Blaidd's ears swivelled flat.
"The blade goes forward," he pointed out.
"I said it needed correcting, didn't I?"
Blaidd released your hand and strode over to Faolán. He silently took the sword and flipped it round, but as he tried to return it to your shadow's palm, Faolán seized his hand and swept his thumb through the tatty fur.
"We'll have a spring wedding, sweetheart," Faolán purred, lifting their conjoined hands to press a kiss to Blaidd's. The grey wolf frowned at him.
"Stop messing about." He shook his hand free and moved Faolán's digits into the right places on the hilt. "Leave your thumb and forefinger relaxed. Much of the grip should come from your remaining fingers. Unlike your Empyrean, you're wielding your sword in a single hand, so you won't need to worry about changing your grip as you..."
Blaidd wrapped his hand around Faolán's and guided him through the same exercises he had with you - yet as soon as he had finished, the grey wolf released the red's hand, and not once did their fingers entwine.

Your stance was another problem that Blaidd chose to deal with in a more physical manner.

"Never stand facing your opponent directly," he told you and Faolán as he motioned for you to stand across from each other. "Imagine that there is a line running between your feet. If that line is parallel with the direction from which your opponent strikes, then you can easily be pushed back or overpowered. Stand at an angle. ...Yes, like that. Very good. Just a little more," he added, stooping to take a careful hold of your ankle and set your foot a little further back. "There. With a front foot and a back foot, your stance is stable, yet adaptable enough to move in any direction."
"Hey, big guy!" Faolán hollered. "Come grope my leg too!"
"F-Faolán...!" you chided him, your cheeks darkening even further than they already had at the feel of Blaidd's hand barely grazing your shin.
"I'm not groping her legs, I'm correcting her feet," Blaidd called back. "Your stance looks ideal from here, anyway."
"Did I feckin' stutter? Come and grope my leg or I'll assume you're perving on my Lady."
"I'm sorry," you mouthed at Blaidd's back as he knelt beside your smug-looking shadow and shifted his front foot the tiniest fraction of an inch.
"As I said, Faolán, you need no help in this regard. Your angle is already perfect and your feet are well-placed."
"Hear that, my Lady? Perfect angle. Well-placed feet."
"We'll see who's got well-placed feet when I knock you flat on your arse," you grumbled, loud enough for him to hear.

"Victory is more than well-placed feet," Blaidd interrupted, giving each of you a stern look to try and dissuade you from bickering. "To defeat your opponent, you must understand them. Be aware of them, watch them. Learn their strengths and their weaknesses. They may fall into a predictable rhythm, or have a tell that announces their next move before they make it. Use everything about them, and everything around you, to your advantage. When you see a weakness, exploit it at the earliest opportunity. Don't force it - panic and haste will be your undoing, and will let your enemy exploit you in turn. Let yourself find the right time and the distance from which to strike. Understand?"
You and Faolán nodded.
"Excellent. Now, combat should be a matter of honour, but in such times as these it is not always possible - if your enemy is prepared for foul play, then you need to match them."
"So anything goes?" Faolán asked. "Sounds good. I can get behind that." Typical. You wouldn't put it past your shadow to pull some sneaky stunt.
"For example, imagine that I run at you with my sword aloft and swing at your head. You might easily dodge or parry the blow." Blaidd held his sword aloft to demonstrate. "Now if I raise my sword again and concentrate upon your head, you may assume that I'll strike there again, and prepare to parry from above once more. But my true target lies on the edge of my vision - an unguarded abdomen, say, or an overextended leg. At the last moment, I sidestep..." Blaidd swung the blade in a neat downward curve. "...and I strike much lower than you expect. Or I might simply run at you with my sword raised, and when you raise yours to block me I drive my foot into your stomach."
Faolán smirked at the other wolf. "Oh, I like that one. I need to try that one out."
Blaidd frowned back, not that it dampened your shadow's grin one jot. "It's not a game. Combat is a matter of life and death. Even if you are a Tarnished and a shadow, even if you cannot truly die, there are greater things than your lives at stake. You cannot afford to become complacent."

The different steps, guards and stances that Blaidd led you both through meant you had to unlearn some of your knife-fighting instincts. You were used to making small, controlled movements at very close quarters. A sword needed more room in order to unleash its full force, and Blaidd was forever calling for you to step back from Faolán during your practice duels. Stabbing had little place in a swordfight either, since extending your arm so far left you too exposed. As for Faolán, he was so accustomed to wielding a bow that most of his troubles came from how he held his shoulders and arms. His natural dexterity served him well, though, and he picked up the new skills quickly. While you were still working through the last of your difficulties with your greatsword, your shadow could make his blade dance as nimbly as a rapier. He even took to challenging Blaidd to a match, which became a best-of-three, then a best-of-five, then a best-of-seven. To his credit, Faolán was not a sore loser. Each defeat drove him to learn from his mistakes and do better next time, and you could see him improving every time he met Blaidd in combat. Between bouts Blaidd checked up on you, giving you guidance where you needed it.
Although you were a slower student than your shadow, you weren't far behind once you got the knack of it. Once you were ready, Blaidd had a quick practice duel with you, which naturally you lost. Things were closer against Faolán, whom you almost drew against until he did some fancy flick of the wrist that knocked your sword out of your hand. You challenged him again, and claimed a narrow victory. No doubt you would have kept pitting yourselves against each other in the way your shadow had pestered Blaidd, were it not for the fact that the sun had already dipped towards the western cliffs, where the sky had paled to a dingy yellow. Your training had so absorbed you that you hadn't noticed the hours pass.

"That will serve you both well for now," Blaidd announced. "Now neither of you should lose your life to the average swordsman. You both show great promise. You in particular, Faolán - it was a pleasure to fight against someone of my own size."
Faolán grinned back at him. "Same. Any time you want a scrap, I'm ready. I'll kick your arse one day."
The grey wolf chuckled to himself. "Keep up your training if you want a chance of that."

There was no question of Blaidd leaving your camp, not least because you and Faolán were returning the favour tomorrow.
Whether the day's training had tired him out or whether he was simply pleased by your progress, the grey wolf let down some of his usual reserve. By his standards, he was downright chatty over your evening meal. He even met Faolán's repartee with one or two good-natured barbs of his own, which naturally delighted your shadow. Blaidd was a fount of knowledge on the Lands Between. Not only did he know the geography of Limgrave like the back of his hand, but he had a way of recounting the history and legends that this land was so rich in. His tales were brief, as was his nature, yet told in a subtly engaging way that drew you in. Each story led you to ask questions about this or that, which led to another story, which led to another question, and so to another story. One topic he wouldn't illuminate you on, however, was exactly what Darriwil had done.

"The details are not important. He betrayed Lady Ranni, and that is all you need to know," he replied with a shake of his head.
"It's alright, my Lady," Faolán added, his fangs glittering in a wide grin as he took out his lyre. "I have a good idea of what he did."

With a quick tuning of the strings and a preparatory strum, the red wolf launched into a jaunty, fast-paced tune that he seemed to make up as he went along. What he added to it were some of the most vulgar lyrics you'd ever heard, speculating on exactly what Darriwil had done. Your shadow's depiction of Darriwil had been very busy, and very badly-behaved. You couldn't help cackling at some of the more outlandish suggestions, and even Blaidd had to cover his mouth with his hand to hide his laughter. Faolán's ability to keep playing without cracking up himself was only matched by the sheer number of words that rhymed with 'fuck'.
"What - what he did isn't half as... imaginative as what you suggest," Blaidd said as the song drew to a close, wiping a tear of laughter from his eye. "But I enjoyed it all the same. I fear that when we finally face him, I'll have your song running through my head."
"Good." Faolán wore his usual smirk as he stowed away the lyre, yet you noticed the flutter of his tail wagging. Your shadow must have enjoyed today as much as you had, for there had been no trace of hostility from him this evening. He accepted Blaidd's presence in your camp wholeheartedly. No grumbles, no glowering, no attempts to push himself between you when Blaidd moved close to you. He didn't even growl at the dots of eyeshine that shimmered in your direction after you'd gone to bed, but simply nuzzled into you and drew his tongue pointedly across your cheek.

Faolán's good mood lasted into the following morning. You were equal parts surprised and delighted that he didn't sabotage Blaidd's archery lesson, didn't try to mislead him for his own amusement. Not that Blaidd had an entirely easy ride of it either.

"If I let you use this," the red wolf told him sternly as he held out his greatbow, "I want it back exactly as it is. If you snap the string, or leave a single scratch, or a speck of dirt - hell, if it even smells too much like you - I will end you. You hear me?"
"I hear you," Blaidd replied, ignoring the silent scolding in the face you pulled at Faolán. "A man's weapon is a precious thing."
"Get out of here with that shite, you don't have the faintest! This is my bow. My Lady and I made it together. It's unique. This is more precious than gold and you will treat it like the priceless treasure it is or I will take my sword and use your arse as a scabbard."

While Blaidd hadn't deserved such a tongue-lashing, you knew just how important Faolán's greatbow was to him and how ready he was to carry out his threat. He'd had an ordinary bow as a youth, but even as children Faolán had been much larger than you, and he quickly outgrew any bow that had been made for human hands. Your parents had seen no point in wasting money on commissioning a bow for his own size, and so it became one of your secret projects. On nights when the moon was bright enough to work by, the two of you crafted a shadow-sized bow. It had been a labour of love for two amateur woodworkers like yourselves. You had found the branches that made up its body yourselves, scraped off the bark and found the perfect angle to curve it through trial and error. You'd both taken the opportunity to practice your carving on it until every inch of its surface was trailed in an intricate tangle of ivy that you oiled and sanded until it was perfect. Perhaps it was a rough, naïve thing to a professional's eyes, but you thought it had a certain wild beauty to it all the same. You still remembered how Faolán's eyes had shone when it was completed, the way he'd handled it like an heirloom, the delighted kisses he'd peppered your cheek with. Letting Blaidd handle it at all, however reluctantly, was a sign of Faolán's growing trust in him. The strength of his gaze practically burned a hole in Blaidd's fingers as he set the greatbow into the other wolf's hands. To your relief, to say nothing of your shadow's, Blaidd could hardly have been more careful with it. He strung the bow as delicately as a spider weaving its web. When he held the bow up, however, Faolán rolled his eyes.

"Relax your grip, you're not trying to choke the thing."
"I didn't want to drop it," Blaidd admitted.
"Doesn't mean you have to squeeze it like you're trying to keep your dick up. At least you did a good job stringing it. Let me show you how to nock an arrow. Turn it, like this..."

Faolán tilted the bow horizontally and placed an arrow on the arrow rest. Even if it was the right size for a shadow, and for a shadow's bow, any human might easily have used the thing as a harpoon.

"You see how this feather's a different colour? That's the cock fletch, that wants to be facing up once you turn the bow. I make these arrows myself - it's the only way to guarantee consistent quality. Anyway, push the nock onto the string between those two points, like so..."

He pressed himself into Blaidd's back and guided his hands along. Together they nocked the arrow and turned the bow upright again. Faolán made no attempt to let go of the other shadow but kept his arms wrapped around Blaidd's, almost embracing him from behind. The grey wolf glanced over his shoulder at Faolán, his ears pivoting questioningly.

"Faol, what are you doing to him...?" you asked, even if you were pretty sure you weren't going to like the answer.
"I thought getting touchy-feely was part of the teaching process, my Lady. He certainly seemed to think so yesterday."
You sighed. "Get off him or you're getting lines."
Faolán pried himself away and mouthed something at you that looked suspiciously like, "He's got a nice arse, if nothing else." You mimed writing lines. Your shadow dropped his gaze and cleared his throat.

"Anyway. Let's have a look at your grip." He shifted Blaidd's hand on the bow to a slight angle and hooked the middle three fingers of the other hand into the string. With Blaidd holding the bow to his satisfaction, Faolán nodded towards a tree a little way ahead. "Stand up straight. Keep your feet shoulder-width apart, and at a right angle to your target. Let's see if you can hit that tree."
As soon as Blaidd began to pull back the string, Faolán coughed. "Pull with the back muscles, not the arm. Start again. ...There, much better. When you're ready to shoot, let your fingers relax and slip backwards."
Blaidd readied the bow and aimed for the tree. One second, two seconds, three seconds. Thwip. The arrow sped through the air and met the ground a few yards short of the tree and slightly to one side.
"That wasn't bad," Faolán told him as he brought another arrow and waited for Blaidd to nock it himself this time. "If only the tree had run a little closer, you'd have got it. But that wasn't bad at all for your first try. The aim can take some getting used to. Every bow is a little different, and arrows vary too. It's just a case of finding what's comfortable and putting in the effort to get used to it. Now have another go."

Occasional sniping aside, Faolán was a pretty good teacher of archery. Once Blaidd had gotten his eye in enough to hit his targets with some degree of consistency, you and he began an impromptu archery competition, seeing which of you could hit particular spots on trees most accurately and most often. Fun though it was, there was one disadvantage of competing against a half-wolf with a greatbow - no matter how Blaidd apologised for it, his arrows had a habit of destroying yours. You soon had to go and collect them every time you loosed one, otherwise Blaidd's next arrow would reduce it to splinters.

The three of you took a quick lunch break before you fulfilled your promise and delivered the final part of the training session.

"Knife fights are fast and deadly," you began. "They can be over in seconds. It's all about moving as little and as fast as you can. As soon as your arm goes out, you're vulnerable. You want to land your attack and get yourself protected again before your opponent can counter. If your non-knife hand is free, that arm wants to be bent at the elbow with your fist near your face, like this..."
You tucked your elbow in close to your side, forearm up so that your clenched hand hovered to one side of your chin. Blaidd mimicked the posture, and you nodded.
"Perfect. That's so you can protect your head and chest from any attacks. Now, as I said, you want small movements that you're in complete control of. You never want your knife to go higher than your shoulder or lower than your waist, otherwise you're probably open to stabbing or having your knife stolen." As your gaze scanned over your student, you realised the problem with what you'd just said. "...Ah. That... that assumes that you're fighting someone your own size, Blaidd. You might have to adapt your technique if you're fighting a human."

Blaidd had a general-purpose hunting knife that he was happy to practice with, and Faolán had his own dagger. Both would stay in their covers during training, of course - the last thing you needed were any accidents. At least if you set the half-wolves to spar against each other, Blaidd would be able to memorise the techniques you'd described before modifying them towards a smaller enemy. Maybe he'd never have any use for what you were teaching him outside hunting and maybe self-defence. Still, he'd agreed to learn it in exchange for his lesson in swordplay, and if it ever helped him then it wasn't a waste of time.

"This is how I prefer to hold my dagger." You stretched out your arm so that Blaidd could see how you'd enclosed the hilt in your fist. "Personally, I find this the easiest way to stab with, and wrapping your thumb around the outside secures the knife enough that it's much more difficult to knock out of your grasp."
"I see... So that's why you two used to hold your swords so strangely..." Blaidd murmured to himself. Faolán squinted at him.
"Another thing that's different from sword-fighting is how close you get to your opponent. The stance isn't too different, maybe a bit less of an angle, but a lot of the time you'll be close enough to grapple. If your opponent has a hand free, they might try to punch or grab you, so you have to be ready to defend yourself or else attack them first. Some of the footwork you know will come in handy, though. It really helps if you're able to outmanoeuvre your enemy. Whoever's fastest often wins."

You walked Blaidd through a few of the basic techniques, with Faolán helping to demonstrate. Blocking, of course, and the two basic attacks of slashing and stabbing.
"But blocking their knife is a last resort," you explained. "The best defence in a knife fight is pure aggression. If you can keep attacking without leaving yourself vulnerable, your enemy will be too busy protecting themselves to be able to hit you. As for your attacks, stabbing is what really deals damage. You can only stab effectively once you're in close enough. Slashing will help close the distance between you, and done well it'll keep your opponent off-kilter long enough for you to stab. Just don't go too wide with the slashing. Not only are you unable to protect yourself, but you also risk getting disarmed."
While you were at it, you demonstrated just how easy it was to steal someone's dagger if they swung too widely, and took them through the process of disarming their opponent in such a scenario.
With the basics covered, you set Blaidd and Faolán against each other. As you'd thought when they first met, they were pretty evenly matched. Blaidd had the edge when it came to brute force and aggression, and it was him that drove the start of the clash. But Faolán was more than able to keep up, dodging and blocking whatever came his way. As Blaidd began to tire, Faolán pressed home his advantage and flipped the knife out of the other wolf's hands.

"Well done, Faolán. Blaidd, that was pretty good. What Faolán did wouldn't normally have worked, but he took advantage of how hard you were trying and waited for you to wear yourself out. But you started off really strong. Once you get more of a feel for knife-fighting, it'll become easier."

Sure enough, the next fight went much smoother for him. But Faolán was improving too, and it wasn't long before the two of them were in deadlock. It was impossible to bet on which would prevail. They were both worthy opponents, and it all came down to the circumstances of an individual fight - whether the grey wolf's sheer strength overwhelmed the red, or whether Faolán saw an opportunity for a lightning-fast attack. You'd hate to face either of them, that was for sure. Hell, at their size, they'd make mincemeat of you.

"Okay, that's great! You're really getting the hang of it. Let's see how you do against me, now. You first, then I'll fight Faolán too." You stood before Blaidd, sheathed dagger waiting. "With our size difference, I've got a natural advantage. I can get around you more easily than you can get around me - I might even be able to duck underneath you - and I've got ready access to your legs. You need to be ready to guard your lower body. And since I'm so low, whenever you extend your arm, you're automatically vulnerable. So what should you do?"
Blaidd cocked his head, ears swivelling side to side as he mulled over his tactics. "...Close the gap. Take a low stance. Don't give you the chance to slip away."
You grinned at him. "Sounds good, but let's see how it goes in practice."

For the first few rounds, it wasn't too hard to outmanoeuvre Blaidd. Just like you'd had to unlearn some of your dagger-fighting techniques to improve your swordsmanship, he struggled to set aside his own customs. The amount of distance he was used to keeping from an opponent, for example, hindered him when he tried to attack you. He was often so far out of range that he had to lunge for you before attacking. He may as well have held up a sign warning you to dodge. And as you'd predicted, your size gave you the edge over him. The slight splay to his legs when he crouched was a weak spot, and you made sure to strike there to teach him to tuck his knees in a bit. Within a few bouts he was getting used to fighting in such a low stance, and then he began to turn the tables. Unless you saw an opening within the first few seconds, the feral assertion with which he fought forced you to take defensive measures unless he slipped up and gave you chance for a counterstrike. But those windows of opportunity shrank and shrank as Blaidd's confidence and competence with a dagger grew.

"That was really good! You're coming along in leaps and bounds. You should be able to match anyone who comes at you with a knife, whether they're your size or mine." You cast a glance towards the sun, which hovered above the horizon. "That's probably enough for now - it's getting late and we're low on food. But any time you want to practice with me or Faolán, just let us know."
"Thank you. To both of you." Blaidd gave your shadow a nod of acknowledgement, and Faolán returned it with a smirk. Perhaps the grey wolf wanted to keep on his good side. These last two days had been the best you'd ever seen them get along, largely because of how much better Faolán was behaving, and it seemed that Blaidd wanted to maintain that sense of friendship.
"And thanks to you, too," you replied. "We'd never have gotten the hang of those swords without you. All that practice yesterday was just what we needed."
"Yeah, thanks." Even your shadow sounded sincere for once.
"Really, though, we do need to get a bit of food found, otherwise supper is springhares and nettles."

This was the third day in a row that you'd had to provide for two half-wolves as well as yourself. Faolán hadn't hunted for a while, and your supplies were just beginning to run low. Not just of meat, but mushrooms and a few of the other ingredients you gathered from the wild.
"I'm going to forage," you told the others. "Maybe look for some places to set a few snares. Do you feel like hunting, Faol?"
He nodded. "Perfect time of day to track deer. What about you, Blaidd? You coming along?"
"...I'll catch you up." Faolán frowned at him as Blaidd continued, "I'd like to speak with the Tarnished."
"Whatever it is, do it another time! The deer aren't going to wait for you, and my Lady will want to eat while there's still daylight."
"I'll be but a few minutes. Don't spoil your hunt for my sake."
Your shadow shuffled from foot to foot, glancing uneasily between Blaidd and the distant copses until he finally made his choice. He stalked off into the undergrowth, tail hanging low as he strung his bow.

You stared up at Blaidd. He wanted to talk to you? And without Faolán? Yet now that the opportunity was before him, he seemed hesitant to take it. His head tilted this way and that, ears pivoting and mouth twitching as if he was trying to speak and keep his lips shut at the same time. That sense of wavering was almost as strong as Faolán's had been before he left. The poor shadow looked practically at war with himself. He'd never been the most sociable of creatures; perhaps he'd been struck by shyness. You tried to help him out with a gentle smile.

"You can always forage with me if you'd prefer. Do you know much about mushrooms? I can teach you-"
"I apologise, Tarnished." He crouched so that the two of you were eye to eye. "I truly only mean to be a few minutes and then join your shadow, but I implore you to listen to me. My words may not be welcome to you, but I can't hold them back any more."

Your breath caught, frozen in your chest somewhere below your hammering heart. By the gods, what the hell was he about to say? It couldn't be what it sounded like.

"These last few days, being so close to you night and day, I've... enjoyed your company."
"Thanks. We like having you around too."
"I'm not sure that Faolán would always agree," he added, and you couldn't help chuckling. "I admit that I misjudged the pair of you when we first met. You're shaping up into true warriors. More than that, you've been true allies, and true friends."
"Again, not sure what Faolán would have to say about that," you laughed. "But thank you."
Was that really what he'd wanted to say? The way he'd opened, it had been so strange at first. Almost as if Blaidd had been trying to confess feelings or something. But you'd misunderstood the situation. You just wanted you to know how much he appreciated you and Faolán keeping him company. Despite his intimidating appearance, the grey wolf just had a kind of clumsiness about him. The Two Fingers had granted him many admirable attributes, but social skills were not one of them. Somehow that only made him even more endearing.
"Perhaps..." Blaidd glanced away and swallowed, his tail wiggling nervously by his ankles as he risked looking you in the face again. "Perhaps in another life, we might have been even more than that."

More than...? No. No way. What the fuck. Your mind raced, almost buzzing. He couldn't have said that. You couldn't have heard him right. You laid a steadying hand on the tree beside you.

"If you tell me that you don't want my attentions, then I will let you be. Believe me, I understand the bond that exists between you and Faolán better than anyone who's neither an Empyrean nor a shadow ever could. I would never seek to come between you, and I will never turn my back on Lady Ranni. I can't be yours in the way that your shadow is. But I need you to know that everything that he does for you, I would do for you." He nuzzled close to your ear. "And I mean everything."

When he was so close to you, the bristly fur of his cheek barely brushing your skin, his scent was intoxicating. Dark yet bittersweet, moss and moonlight. He'd been pretty close to you during your training - when he walked you through your movements and stances, when he grappled you during your knife-fights - but you hadn't smelled him then. The last time that woodsy, musky aroma had wrapped itself around your senses in such a way had been the morning he'd brought you the sheep. ...Faolán was right. You hadn't believed him, but he'd been right this whole bloody time. Blaidd really did have a thing about you. Faolán had made it sound so sordid, though. Little more than lust. The way Blaidd told it, it sounded like he truly cared about you. Damn it, why did Faolán have to be half-right? Your heart was already tangled in knots, so why did Blaidd have to go and add even more threads to it? Your eyes prickled with tears. Blaidd's ears drooped, and he laid his hand on your shoulder so gently that you hardly felt it.

"Don't cry. Please. I never intended to hurt you. I just wanted to be honest, even though I knew you wouldn't share my feelings.."
"You have no idea," you breathed. "You have no idea what a mess everything is."
Blaidd tilted his head. "What do you mean?"
"I don't even know. It's all just..." You tried to translate the storm going on inside you into words, but you may as well have tried to collect the sea in a bowl. You let out a sigh. "It's a bloody mess. All I'm sure of is that I love Faolán."
He offered you a shallow smile. His head was still so close to yours that his breath tickled your cheek. "If you love him, then that's all that matters. But now you know how I feel, and what you do with that information is up to you. If you decide you want nothing to do with me, then so be it. I will continue the hunt for Darriwil myself. If you decide we can still be friends, then I will gladly remain your friend. And if anything ever happens between you and Faolán - not that I expect it will - but if it does, and if you ever feel the same way... well, you know where to find me."
"I'd like to be friends. I gave you my word that I'd help you defeat Darriwil, and I'll never go back on it, but even after we find him, I - I like having you in my life." Were you tempting fate too much? Your heart had no idea what it wanted, but something inside you knew that you wanted to remain in touch with Blaidd. Not only was he a powerful ally in possession of knowledge that would probably help you towards the Elden Ring, but he had become a friend - something that you had always been short on. You didn't want to lose him. If only your feelings would decide what the fuck they were doing, and hopefully realise that your bond with Blaidd could be nothing beyond platonic. Anything else would crush Faolán.
"I like having you in my life as well. Long may our friendship continue, eh?" Blaidd's smile widened, even if there was an almost wistful hollowness in the back of his eyes. "Your shadow must be wondering where I've got to," he added, turning his attention toward the wilderness of Limgrave. "Perhaps he's already secured a fine deer for supper. I should join him. We shan't be long."

Blaidd straightened up. Something streaked between you and, with a thud, embedded itself in the trunk of the tree beside you, exactly where Blaidd's head had been moments earlier. An arrow as long as a spear, shuddering with the force of the impact. Both of you stared at it. Both of you recognised it from that morning's training. The grey wolf narrowed his eyes.
"I'll take it back for him."
He pulled the arrow out of the tree and, without another word, marched off in the direction it had flown from. You watched him leave, your heart in your throat.

Faolán had been watching you. Your shadow lurked somewhere out there, his eyes fixed on you and Blaidd as he silently nocked an arrow and raised his bow in your direction. He'd been watching you, and he'd tried to murder Blaidd.
...Wait. Wait, no, that wasn't true. Blaidd had crouched for several minutes as he spoke to you. Plenty of time for Faolán to find his mark. Blaidd had been a sitting duck, and Faolán would never miss such an easy target. If your shadow had meant to kill, he would have. No. The arrow was a warning. But who was that warning directed at? Blaidd, or you?

Chapter Text

POV: Blaidd

A shallow growl slipped from between Blaidd's clenched teeth as he strode into the wilderness, his hand tight around the arrow shaft. His nerves had already been on edge before that little stunt. It had been difficult enough to reveal his heart to the Tarnished, even before admitting out loud - to himself as well as her - that he had no hopes of ever claiming hers. She had been kind. To him, and to her shadow. She didn't desert either of them. She accepted how Blaidd felt despite not being able to return his affections. She had pledged to remain friends, told him that the way Blaidd felt would change nothing between them. Yes, she had been kind, and sometimes there was cruelty in kindness. Cruelty that could not be avoided. His heart had sunk as he stood, but the sight of that arrow impaling the tree a few inches before him had driven his self-pity from his mind. Faolán wasn't going to get away with this. Blaidd had done the right thing, no matter how it hurt him, and he had been shot at for his troubles. The other shadow's behaviour wasn't merely petty; it was dangerous. If he didn't clear the air between them, who knew what Faolán might do next?

Blaidd followed the direction from which the arrow had flown, until the stench of fresh blood guided him towards his target. Faolán was dressing his kill in the midst of a thicket. A deer carcass hung from a tree, its blood draining from the hollowed-out body, and the red wolf was busy cutting away its hide. He'd probably heard Blaidd's approach - he was a half-wolf, after all - but he paid no attention to the new arrival. He just continued his careful peeling of the deer's skin as if he had all the time in the world.

Blaidd held out the arrow. "What do you call this?"
The red wolf squinted at it, then offered Blaidd a pitying frown. "It's called an arrow, omadhaun. We went over this sort of thing this morning."
A spark of anger flared inside him. This pup had had the nerve to try and kill him - no, not even that. Faolán was too cowardly to face him in combat. No, he'd hidden himself away like the weak little whelp he was and taken his little shot at Blaidd when he had let his guard down. There was no honour to his actions at all! And when he was confronted with it, he dared to act with such cheek? He was a disgrace to all shadowbound beasts, but he would not get a rise out of Blaidd. Sinking to Faolán's level would achieve nothing.

"I know it's an arrow. I want to know how this ended up buried in a tree right where my head was."
"Well, I nocked it into my bow, and then I loosed it in the direction of the tree. Most people call it 'archery'. I'll teach you it sometime, since you've apparently forgotten every single bit of training we did. You remember what a bow is, at least?"
"Don't laugh this off. Shooting an arrow at my head is a problem."
"You are a problem," Faolán countered.
"If I've caused offence, it was not my intention. I will put it right as soon as you tell me what your trouble with me is."
The other shadow's eyes narrowed into a pair of golden slivers. Had Blaidd done something wrong during one of the training sessions? Or at the camp, perhaps? Usually Faolán needed no prompting to say whatever was on his mind, no matter how much people may wish otherwise. There was only one matter the grey wolf could think of that might cause such simmering hatred from the other.

"...Is this still about the Tarn-"
"Damn feckin' right it's about my Lady!" Faolán spat. "You and your 'knight in shining armour' bollocks. It's sick to the back teeth I am of it! Swanning around like you're some paragon of virtue! You pretend you're so noble and chivalrous when we both know the only reason you give us the time of day is because you want to get your leg over!"

Blaidd blinked at the outburst of venom, his ears lowering a little. He'd had his share of enemies in the past, but never before had anyone accused his moral code of being pretence. He made a point of being true to his nature, of behaving in a way that meant he would never look back on himself with shame or regret. That had... fallen apart just a little when it came to the Tarnished and her shadow, but he had done his best to rectify his mistakes, hadn't he? He didn't know what he'd done to give out the impression Faolán had formed, and the accusation cut more deeply than he let on.

"That's not true. You are every bit an ally, the same as your Lady. Would I have trained you if your safety didn't matter to me?"
"You can shove your training! Don't think I didn't see all that fondling. 'Correcting her stance', my arse. You could hardly wait for me to turn my back so you could get your claws into her."
"You make it sound like all I want is to use her -"
"Because you do," the red wolf interrupted.
"No. I truly care for her, and I told her as much when you decided to try and put an arrow in my head."
"Like I'm going to believe that!"
"Ask her. I'm not lying to you, and neither will she. I told her of my feelings, and that I will not act on them because I respect what you two have." The other wolf's sneer of contempt wavered as Blaidd continued, "I know how hopeless it is to come between an Empyrean and their shadow. Nothing will ever sever the bond between me and Lady Ranni, and I will never try to do the same to you. What your Lady does with that knowledge is her own business. I will not influence her one way or the other."

Silence. The two of them stared at each other. Faolán's fists clenched, the knife he'd used for skinning the deer still in his hand. He stalked towards Blaidd, raising the knife high, and for a moment Blaidd thought he meant to stab him. He brandished the arrow, ready to knock the red wolf's hand away, only to watch as the knife plunged harmlessly through the air. Faolán hadn't swung it at him at all - the swipe was merely a vent of frustration. He stopped an inch before Blaidd, ears pricked and teeth bared, but the grey wolf saw tears shimmering in the corner of those scowling eyes.

"You and your bloody..." he breathed, almost hissing the words. "Why you have to come here with your... You know the worst thing about your little knight act? It's not an act at all. You really do believe in all that honour stuff. Eejit that you are, you're the better man." The other shadow's voice was thick, as if he might cry at any moment. "You could get any woman you want. So why the hell does it have to be mine?"
"It's nothing against you. It wasn't planned. She is... well, you know full well of her warmth, and her kindness, and her resolve. Not to mention her acceptance of people like us."
Faolán gave a bitter snort.
"Scoff all you like, but it's true. A lot of humans mistrust us, or make judgments about us without taking the time to know us. Those that are attracted to us can have some very - very set ideas about us. They expect us to be a certain way, or they're disappointed that we're not more human, or that we're not more wolf-like."
"So you're trying to make out that my Lady is the only wolf's-bitch in the Lands Between," Faolán mocked. "I see."
"There are others that accept the way we are with no strings attached, but your Lady is remarkable. For her soul, and her... well, it's... you'll find that she's... she's the only one who fits us."

The red wolf stared at him, his jaw falling slack. Blaidd realised just how crass he must have sounded. Elegant words had never been his forte, but it was a perfectly valid point. How else was he supposed to describe her... internal proportions?

"You think my Lady's got some kind of magic fanny?" A smile flickered in the corner of Faolán's mouth, but it vanished in an instant amid a snort of laughter. "Oh, she'd love that! It's just a special grease that makes things bigger on the inside, eejit. You've never heard of it?"
"A grease...?"
So it wasn't the gift of Empyreans, or even some quirk bestowed at random by the gods. It was a magical concoction that allowed her to take her shadow, nothing more and nothing less. So that meant that, in theory, Blaidd could have anyone he'd ever wanted - anyone except the one his heart had settled on. It was like being in some second-rate play. He might have laughed if the whole matter hadn't been so wretched.
"That's all there is to it," Faolán confirmed. "My Lady's mother was a herbalist, and she trained my Lady in her work. She collected cookbooks for fun - her own little library of recipes and crafts. One day my Lady found the grease recipe among them. We've put it to plenty of use over the years, believe me." Faolán tilted his head. "You've really never heard of this stuff? Not once?"
"Not at all."
"Damn." Faolán's ears pivoted as he mulled over the other shadow's words. A familiar smirk danced across the corner of his muzzle. "No wonder you're so weird about her. Doesn't excuse you from being a pervert, but no matter. You've never actually fucked anyone, then?"
Blaidd spluttered. Of all the personal questions, and the sheer brazenness with which he had asked it! At least his fur hid most of his blush.
"Penetration isn't everything. There's plenty to be done without."
"Fair enough," came the airy reply. "Still... Listen, just ask her for the recipe. It's easy. Take that, go make it, and slather up literally anyone who's not my Lady, got it? Hell, I'll write it out for you if you want. Consider it recompense for the arrow. That was a joke, anyway. Don't take it too personally."

Almost shooting someone through the head was Faolán's idea of a joke? Blaidd sighed.

"Weapons aren't toys, Faolán. If you're to survive in the Lands Between, you'd do well to remember that."
"And you'd do well to remember that I missed you on purpose," the red wolf snapped back. "If I'd intended to hit you, I would have. You gave me plenty of opportunity. Very considerate to spend so much time in one spot."
"Murder is not a joke. It's nothing like hunting for meat, or even killing in self-defence. To look someone in the eyes, a person with hopes and fears, dreams and secrets - someone who wants to live as much as you do - and know that your goal is to end their life... It's no laughing matter."
Just for a moment, Blaidd's mind swam with image upon image of Darriwil. Memories of the days before his comrade had turned traitor. Those days were long gone. They were nothing more than ghosts, and the Bloodhound Knight would soon take his place among them. Darriwil's fate lay on the edge of Blaidd's sword.
"I knew full well I wasn't going to hit you. Stop getting so worked up over nothing. You're making me wish I'd done it now."
"I told you not to make light of that," Blaidd replied. His voice was soft yet solemn, like a distant rumble of thunder. "This world is full of those who kill without a second thought, and you are not one of them."

For all his immaturity and posturing - Blaidd was reminded once more of a pup who paraded with their parent's prey, pretending that it was their own strength and smarts that had brought down their quarry - Blaidd didn't believe there was a truly bad bone in Faolán's body. Plenty of insolent ones, and more than a few spiteful ones, and if he didn't curb his temper then he was bound to end up in trouble sooner or later. For the most part, it was the bluster of youth, and the Lands Between would soon knock it out of him. Iji had once told him that this world was like a metallurgist, and its inhabitants were ores to be refined. The trials of surviving here burnt up the impurities of the soul. For those who were unworthy, whose hearts contained nothing but pollution, the process would destroy them. Those with true strength of character, on the other hand, would be improved beyond measure. Faolán was a chunk of ore. He had his faults, but that didn't negate the soul that lay underneath, nor the potential that lay within him. The shadow had a good heart, one that he couldn't discard easily enough to become a murderer.

He had meant his words as a compliment but, for some reason, they had the opposite effect. The red wolf winced, only to practically burst with rage.
Drawing himself up to his full height, he barked, "You think I'm just a cub, don't you? You think I'm a stupid cub who can't take care of myself or my Lady."
Blaidd blinked, trying to process such a strange reaction.
"That's not what I said. The Lands Between are not like your homeland. The two of you have done well to survive this long, and you show true promise in combat, but the truth is that both of you are currently... ill-prepared for what your quest for the Elden Ring will demand of you."

He had not meant it unkindly. It was a genuine assessment. Just like her shadow, the Tarnished would soon be toughened up by her adventures, and that would only be of benefit to her. The red wolf, however, was glaring as if his words were unforgivable.

"That's what you think, is it, Mr Big Knight? You think we've led soft lives?" he snarled. "All that 'don't be complacent' shite you spouted with the sword training. You think I have no idea what the lot of a shadow is, do you? Let me show you one thing, and then call me a stupid cub one more time."

Throwing aside his chest armour, Faolán pulled off his tunic and undershirt. Setting his shoulders back and arching his spine threw the scar in the centre of his chest into even sharper relief. Blaidd felt all the air in his lungs escape in one long, sympathetic sigh as he gazed upon what had been hidden under Faolán's clothing. He knew a thing or two about injuries and this was no surface wound. Raw-looking skin was pulled tight over the bumps of scar tissue lining what could only be described as a crater, a gore-coloured pit too wide to disappear among the gingery fur.
"Not as big as some of yours, I bet, but size isn't everything," he added, a sardonic scoff in his voice.
Blaidd was not laughing. The stab wound lay almost directly over Faolán's heart. Hell, if whatever blade had done it was long enough - and with the size of the scar, Blaidd didn't doubt it - then it may have punctured a lung as well. The other shadow knew what it was to die.

"What's the story behind it? If you don't mind me asking, I mean." Scars were deeply personal things, to say nothing of one's own deaths. Blaidd wasn't entitled to an answer. There were wounds of his own that none but he and Lady Ranni would ever know the cause of.
"My Lady's father."
He said it as casually as if he was talking about the weather. So casually that Blaidd stared at him, sure that he must have misheard.
"Her...? Her father killed you?"
"That he did."
Blaidd could hardly conceive of such a thing. Lady Ranni's parents, the Queen Rennala in particular, had counted him among their own children. They couldn't have loved the half-wolf more if he had been of their own flesh and blood. Faolán had not shared his luck. Blaidd had already sorrowed for him at the thought of being spurned by his own family, but even that was preferable to the thought of being slaughtered by them.
"Why would he do such a thing?"
Faolán shrugged. "Didn't like me shagging his daughter, I guess."
Blaidd sighed and pinched the bridge of his muzzle. Faolán's attitude did nothing to help him wrap his head around the matter.
"Is that truly what happened?"
"More or less. My Lady and I were childhood friends, as you know. We grew up, and we fell in love. And we... well. You know. I mean, maybe you won't, but..."

Faolán grinned, but there was something uneasy in his expression, something tainting the memory of being young and in love.

"I was still nothing to her parents, and we still had to sneak out to be together. One night they noticed she was missing and came to look for her. They found us in the forest, getting dressed. It was the knot, you see. You're stuck together and there's nothing you can do but wait it out. A few more minutes and we might have gotten away with it, but we didn't. There was the mother of all arguments. They assumed I'd overpowered her - there was talk of throwing me in gaol. My Lady told them that she loved me, she'd been the one who'd wanted it, and it wasn't the first time she'd let me have her. So, of course, her parents turned on her. Called her every name under the sun. Her father became violent towards her so I pushed him away, and it turned into a fight. Both her parents were on me, my Lady threw herself into the fray to try and pull them off me, and somewhere in the confusion of it all her father drew his knife and struck a lucky blow. The look on my Lady's face was..."

He swallowed. His eyes had misted over, no longer seeing Blaidd or the deer or a single scrap of Limgrave. Telling the story had taken him back to the moment when the cords that bound him to life first snapped. Blaidd had died many times himself, but his own first taste of death burned bright in his mind. The way his pulse had raced as he staggered back from the force of the blow, only for his heart to spasm and slow inside his chest. The pain that sank under the weight of his shock, his panic, his confusion. And then nothing. Everything had melted into a sense of emptiness. The world fading. Pain fading. Thoughts fading. Life fading. Only for the world to blare back into existence, too loud, too bright, forcing itself into his consciousness with a jarring assertiveness.

"She tried to stem the bleeding," Faolán murmured, so lost in his own recollections that he was talking to himself more than Blaidd, "but her father dragged her away from me. The last thing I remember seeing is her struggling in his arms, sobbing with rage, punching him in the face over and over."
A shiver passed through the shadow and seemed to rouse him from the depths of his memory. He gave Blaidd a cocky grin, yet the grey wolf noted that the smile didn't touch his eyes. They remained forlorn and lost; two clouded pieces of amber.
"I can only have been dead for a few minutes. My Lady was still brawling with her father when I woke up. Her mother was trying to separate them, trying to restrain her, but she was fighting like a little Direwolf. First thing I did was bite a chunk out of her father. It was the least the little gobshite deserved. I bit him, flung both of them away from my Lady, scooped her up and ran home."

"I'm sorry." It was inadequate. Words would never be adequate, but empathy from one shadow to another - the understanding of the destinies they shared - was all he could offer. The red wolf frowned, his head tilting to one side.
"The feck are you sorry for? You had nothing to do with it. And I'm not sorry in the least. What else was I supposed to do, stand by and watch them hurt her? I'll die as many times as she needs me to. But she hated it. As soon as we got home, she packed a few bags and bid me run away with her. She said if we stayed then her parents would kill me again or I might kill them. She couldn't stand to see me hurt. And here we are, living off the land and sleeping under the open sky, like nomads. So you can take your 'don't be complacent' and shove it up your arse. I can never be complacent when it comes to my Lady. She's all I have, and more than someone like me should ever have."

The crater in his chest was the only physical scar that Blaidd knew of, but the rough edge to Faolán's voice that curled around each word spoke of wounds that were much harder to see. Perhaps the shadow's bristly exterior was a shield, protecting a core much more fragile than Blaidd would have guessed at. But he blinked and grinned up at the grey wolf, the mask of the trickster slipping back into place as if it had never dropped.

"If you keep staring at my chest like that, I might think it's me you fancy after all," he chuckled as he slipped his clothes back on. "Eyes off the prize."
His gaze swept over the deer corpse, still suspended from the tree.
"This guy's just about finished draining by now. Let me write you that grease recipe before I forget, then you can help me carve the meat up and get it back to my Lady."
"The least I can do," Blaidd replied with a grateful bow of his head.
Faolán took a scrap of parchment from his bag and wrote something on it.
"Think of me when you use it," he said as he handed it over. "Or don't - it might get you off too quickly."

Blaidd huffed at the quip, but made no other response as he scanned the sheet. The script was surprisingly elegant, neat yet with an almost feminine flourish. The recipe called for Root Resin, Herba... But these were such common materials! The outskirts of the Mistwood were particularly thick in Herba, and the Minor Erdtree nearby meant that Root Resin was not difficult to find either. As for the method by which one made the stuff, it seemed almost too easy. Was this really all there was to such a miraculous substance? Perhaps there were more instructions on the back. Blaidd flipped the parchment and found it covered in Faolán's handwriting - but not instructions.

The rest of the sheet continued in the same vein.

"Wrong side," the red wolf told him, as if he hadn't realised that already. "Turn it over."
"Apologies. It seemed so simple that I thought there had to be more to it. ...What is this, though?" Despite himself, Blaidd smiled. "The Tarnished has you write lines like an errant schoolboy?"
"My punishment for petty misdemeanours."
"Can't see how they would be effective for one such as you."
"But I like to write them. It reminds me how much I owe her - she's the one who taught me to read and write in the first place."

Blaidd must have made a face, for Faolán's mouth twitched in a mockery of a smile.

"As I told you, her parents saw me only as a servant. All a servant needed to know was how to say 'yes' and then obey whatever my Lady asked of me. They weren't going to waste time on educating me beyond that. But my Lady shared all her lessons with me in secret. By night she'd gather up her books and repeat for me everything she'd been taught. She even had a music tutor for a few years, even though she sings like a raven and plays even worse. She didn't want a music tutor, but she asked her parents for one anyway. You know why? Because she knew how much I liked music, and she wanted to give me the chance to learn about it. That's the kind of person she is."
"I understand some of what she means to you, Faolán. I need no more reminders. We don't have to be the best of friends if that's not what you wish - all I want is for you to believe me when I tell you I pose no threat to you or your Empyrean."
"If that's the case, and it stays the case, then I think I can put up with you. If you get good enough with the bow, I might even take you on as my sidekick," the red wolf chuckled.

Well, it was progress. If it meant peace between them - if it meant the three of them could continue with the friendship that Blaidd appreciated more than he cared to admit in front of his flippant companion - then Blaidd could live with the banter.
"Deal. I'll reserve judgement on becoming your sidekick for now. Perhaps, in time, you may become mine."
"Pffft - dream on. Let's get the meat back to my Lady before the sun gets much lower. She doesn't like cooking in darkness." He fished some empty sacks from his back and threw them in Blaidd's direction. "There's no time to butcher it properly. Just cut it into quarters and get them bagged up."

Blaidd took out his hunting knife as Faolán lowered the carcass from the tree and laid it out. Neither spoke a word as they carved up the deer into more manageable portions. The red wolf never looked Blaidd's way - his face was a mask of concentration, ears pricked and eyes focused on his knife's progress. It was a race against the dwindling sunlight, but they made short work of it. With the deer stowed into sacks, each slung over a half-wolven shoulder, the two of them set off together. A curious atmosphere hung between them, somehow peaceful yet heavy at the same time. There was no need to talk, and Blaidd wouldn't have been able to even if he'd wanted to. And so they didn't. They were content to simply drift together in silence and watch the encroaching dusk snuff out the sun.

Chapter Text

POV: Tarnished

Whatever those two had gotten up to, it had taken far too long. You'd found a couple of good spots to set snares, and you'd managed a little foraging before the sun threatened to disappear below the cliffs. You couldn't put off the evening meal any longer, though, otherwise you'd struggle to see what you were doing. The shadows would just have to make do with springhare and toasted pignuts. Not a bad combination, but it took several springhares to feed all three of you, and the little creatures has always been fiddly things to prepare.

At least when Blaidd and Faolán finally showed up, they carried sacks of venison over each shoulder. The hunt had been a success.
"Take over the skillet for me, Faol," you told your shadow. "I'll get these into storage. We'll sort them out tomorrow."
You were the only one with access to the spectral storage chest, and although the shadows had already gutted and quartered the deer, the light was too poor to finish deboning them and carving them up into joints.

As Faolán took over cooking, Blaidd settled himself close by, watching in silence. There was something strange in the atmosphere between the two half-wolves, and it endured throughout dinner. There was no hostility between them - no glowering from Faolán, no barbs for Blaidd to shrug off. Somehow, there wasn't the chumminess that you'd seen over the last couple of evenings either. They were still getting along on the few occasions that they spoke, but there was something missing. Something had been stripped away. It took a while for you to realise what was different. Odd as it was, Faolán was being quiet. Contrition, perhaps? Had Blaidd somehow subdued him in the aftermath of that arrow? You needed to talk to your shadow about that matter, some time when the grey wolf wasn't around. You knew that Faolán had aimed to miss, but that didn't make his behaviour acceptable. What had Blaidd said to him, anyway?

"You alright, Faol?" you whispered as you snuggled up to him that night.
"I'm fine, my Lady." He wrapped his arms around you and tucked you into his chest, setting his chin on top of your head and draping his tail over your legs.
"You're very quiet. It's not like you. You're sure everything's alright?"
"I'm sure."
"We'll talk properly next time we're alone. Did Blaidd do something?"
His response was to dunk his cold nose into your ear. You yelped and swatted at him. Across the camp, two spots of eyeshine lit up as Blaidd raised himself from his bedroll.
"What's the trouble?" he called as he reached for his sword.
"Nothing, sorry. Just Faolán being silly."
Blaidd lay back down and your shadow laughed under his breath. He snuffled at your cheek, then drew his tongue along your face, smothering your ticklish laughter in a quick kiss.
"I'll tell you another time," he whispered. "Let me sleep."
Now there was the nuisance you loved. Hopefully his weird mood wouldn't last - and if it did, hopefully it was something that you'd be able to help with.

Blaidd's addition to your camp was always meant to be a temporary thing, but that fact didn't lessen the sting of his departure the following morning. You'd grown so used to his presence that having him bid you farewell wrenched at your heart.

"You've been generous in letting me share your camp this long," he told you and your shadow. "With the Groveside Cave empty and our training sessions complete, there is no reason for me to burden you any further."
"You couldn't be any less of a burden," you corrected him. "It's been a pleasure having you stay with us. Right, Faolán?"
It was a bit of a risk asking Faolán to give his opinion of the other wolf, but your shadow simply nodded to him, taking hold of Blaidd's proffered hand and shaking it.
"Until we meet again, then," Blaidd said as he extended his hand to you next.
You caught hold of it and pulled it towards you. It was something you'd long done with Faolán when you wanted him to bend closer to you. Sure enough, Blaidd shared the same instinct, and he crouched. You wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in his shoulder.
"Thank you for everything you've done for us," you said into the crook of his neck. "You're... you're a true friend."
But if Blaidd really was a friend and nothing more, then why did holding him feel so right? Why did enveloping yourself in his body - losing yourself in the texture, the warmth, the scent of him - set that ember in your heart blazing? Why did it thrill you so when he slipped a pair of hesitant arms around your shoulders and nuzzled into the side of your head? And why did the words he whispered into your ear hurt so much?
"Please, Tarnished. We must part ways. It is what's kindest to all of us."
Your fingers tightened as he pulled away, an unconscious flex to try and keep him with you, but it was all in vain. He slipped out of your grasp and stood once more, his silvery eyes soft as he gazed down at you.
"This isn't goodbye forever," he reminded you. "We'll meet again. We still have a traitor to track down, right?"

Despite his words, something wasn't right. You couldn't put your finger on it. It was just an instinct. Something about the wistfulness in his eyes, the slight tilt of his head, the sense of hovering to his body language as if he was not entirely sure he wanted to leave. All of them gave you a sense of foreboding. Blaidd's hesitancy about leaving, his assurances that he would see you again soon - it was too much like the kind of white lie an adult might tell a child to spare their feelings. Something must have happened between him and Faolán. Had your shadow finally managed to drive him off? Whatever it was, the grey wolf didn't mean to come back. Not as often as he used to, anyway. And once you found Darriwil, he would probably leave forever. The thought made you want to cry, but you plastered a fake smile on your face.
"Don't leave it too long, okay?" Your tone was falsely bright. "Or I might miss you."
The little flinch, the momentary widening of his eyes at your words, told you you were right - your meetings with Blaidd were drawing to a close.
"I will meet you at least once more," he murmured. "I give you my word on that."

With one last look at you - a gaze that you held, a gaze that made you forget about the rest of the world for a few endless moments - he turned away. His cloak swished about his ankles as he walked away. You sighed to yourself, indulging the hollow little ache in your heart, then remembered your shadow. The ache doubled. Blaidd leaving was bad enough, but now you were flooded with shame at the realisation that everything that had passed between you and Blaidd had occurred right before Faolán's eyes. The red wolf's tail hung limp, his ears sagging under some invisible weight. His brow was creased over eyes whose gold had dulled.

"Faolán?"
"You love him." His voice was so small, so empty, so unlike his own.
"I don't!" But as you said it, you knew it was a lie.
"Yes you do. You've loved him for a while."
"What are you talking about?"
Your shadow gave a little huff of laughter that left his eyes bleak.
"I have eyes, my Lady. And a nose. I can see how you light up when you're around him, and I can smell your body responding to his. I've suspected it for some time now, but watching you embrace him - I knew. And he loves you too. That's what he told you while I was hunting, right?"
You nodded. "Faol, I..."

Faolán knelt at your feet and hugged your waist, nuzzling into you. It was something he'd done ever since you were kids, although it was rare for him to seek such comfort so openly. He'd certainly never let anyone but you see him at his most vulnerable, but the truth was that your shadow had always looked to you for strength. He had gone to pieces when he thought he'd lost you at the chapel - he'd simply crumpled around you and waited to waste away. Now he feared losing you again in a different way. You ran both hands along his muzzle and found his fur wet with tears.

"Don't cry, love," you whispered. "I never wanted this to happen. You know I'd never hurt you."
"I know," he mumbled into your hands.
"I still love you. I'll never not love you. You know that, right?"
He swallowed and nodded. "It's... it's alright, my Lady. You can... love him. And he can love you. If you want to."
"What do you -"
"But let me tell you one thing first." He peeked up at you from behind your hands. Glittering speckles of tears clung to his eyelashes like frost. "Being with Blaidd is not going to be like being with me. Being with anyone's not going to be like me. I'm your shadow. Nobody else can replicate that bond."
What the hell was Faolán talking about? First he said it was okay for you and Blaidd to love each other, and you still didn't know what he meant by that. Was he validating your feelings, or might he possibly be... saying that he would let you and Blaidd be lovers...? But now he seemed to be snatching it back - trying to warn you away from him.
"You're jealous of him, aren't you?"
"You've missed my point. If you decide that you want to be with him, then don't expect it to be like we are. I'm part of you; he isn't. He may not have the same understanding of you that I do. So don't hold it against him, my Lady. Don't expect him to have that same connection right from the off. It's not reasonable."

You blinked. That was a fair point, actually. How much thought had he put into this, anyway? He really must have had some inkling of your feelings for a while. How much it must have hurt him, carrying around such a weight in secret. He really thought you would be unfaithful to him - and worst of all, he'd resigned himself to it. You cradled his muzzle between your hands and kissed the tip of it. His tongue flicked against your lips.

"Not to mention that he's a shadow himself," he continued. "He's got his Ranni, and she'll always come first. It's how we shadows are. He's not free to devote himself to you, no matter how much either of you might want that. And who's to say how Ranni would take another Empyrean claiming her shadow as a lover? But if you're willing to overlook all of that..." He sighed and shrugged. "I just want you to be sure of what you're doing."
"You know me," you joked, "I never have any idea what I'm doing. It's... It's all been such a bloody mess, trying to figure out how I feel about him while hating myself for betraying you."
"You're not betraying me. Being your shadow doesn't give me a claim to your heart. You were too generous giving it to me in the first place."
"My heart's still yours, Faol, and it always will be. I just want to share it with Blaidd too, that's all."
Faolán gazed up at you. "You truly love both of us, then?"
"I do. The only thing I've been sure of this whole time is that I still love you."

He buried his face in your hands, nuzzling them vigorously. You felt fresh tears spill down his cheeks and smear across your skin.

"I don't deserve it, my Lady - all I would have asked was that you not forget me -"
"Of course I'm not going to forget you! You're my shadow! My best friend! My first love, you idiot!" You pressed your nose to his and nuzzled him back. He smiled at you, his eyes bright yet gentle behind the tears. "I'm not dumping you, or replacing you. I'm just adding someone else. You don't have to love him or anything-"
"Thank the gods for that," he muttered, sounding more like his usual self, and you laughed.
"Cheeky. But as long as you two can get along, I'd like to ask him how he'd feel about an arrangement."
"An arrangement? With him?" Faolán's gaze darted away, a wicked smirk crossing his mouth. "He'll be in way over his head. Can't wait."
"Behave!" You flicked his nose, then ran a soothing fingertip over it that caused your shadow's eyes to flutter shut. "You're sure you don't mind? You don't have to agree just because I'm your Empyrean. The last thing I want is to upset you."
"If you're sure it's what you want, and Blaidd agrees to it, and as long as he never hurts you, then I have little problem with it. Some people can sincerely love more than one person at the same time. ...I'm still your favourite, of course."
"Of course," you agreed, and he wagged his tail as you kissed him again. "I truly love you, Faolán. How I feel about Blaidd feels like how I feel about you, but that will never stop me loving you."
"And I won't stop loving you no matter what you do, my Lady. All I hope is that you won't stop loving me either."

Your search of Limgrave had brought you many new sights, not all of which you'd had chance to ask Blaidd about. You weren't familiar, for example, with the stone plazas that sank, dish-like, into the earth. They were wide enough that Faolán and Blaidd could have laid head-to-toe across them and still not spanned them. You had seen two, and heard tell of a third, and as your journey took you towards the Weeping Peninsula you found your way back to the first such plaza you'd discovered.

You squatted and laid your hand against the cold stone. As always, the thrum of magic met your skin. There was a pulse coursing through the stone disc at the centre, weaker at the edges and stronger at the centre, running inwards like a ripple in reverse.

"It feels like a sending stone, even if it looks nothing like one," you muttered loud enough for Faolán to hear.
"Most sending stones are like slabs with a hole through the middle. There must be a reason that these are different."
"Perhaps they're related to one another?" you suggested. Your shadow glanced across to you as you continued, "Usually a sending stone only goes in one direction. It drops you somewhere with no means of going back. Maybe these ones are portals to each other - this one might send you to the one in the Weeping Peninsula, or that one that's supposed to be in Stormhill."
"Could be." Still, the way his mouth was pulled to one side as he eyed the cobbled plaza did not fill you with confidence. "Are you thinking of trying it, my Lady?"
"We may as well. How else are we going to find out where it goes?"

You tried to step forward, only for Faolán to catch hold of your wrist. You looked up at him to find his attention not on you, but on a figure standing a few yards behind you.
"Don't do anything foolhardy," the figure called, his familiar voice as soft as the breeze that carried it. Blaidd had found you again. As usual, Faolán's sensitive hearing had tipped him off to the other shadow's presence before you.
"Why not?" you asked, standing and giving him a nod of greeting as you tried to ignore the blush prickling in your cheeks. "What is this thing, some kind of fancy waygate?"
"The entrance to an Evergaol. You'll find them scattered across the Lands Between. Within Evergaols are those convicted of unforgivable crimes, or those who pose danger to the Lands Between, deemed too dangerous to be imprisoned by ordinary means." Blaidd nodded towards the central stones. "If you stand in the middle and concentrate your will on entering the Evergaol, it will take you there, but I would not recommend it. Those who lurk within are there for a reason."
"You're saying it's too dangerous for my Lady?" Now Faolán straightened up. "You're saying whoever's in there is stronger than us?"
"It's not unlikely," Blaidd replied. "Often such criminals are formidable fighters-"
"Then I want to see what's in there," Faolán cut in. "For all we know, it might be your precious Darriwil in there."
Blaidd's eyes - or rather, his one good eye - widened at the red wolf's words. "Darriwil...?"
"You told us he's a traitor, right? Maybe someone else is as bitter about him as you are."

Was Faolán onto something? At first it seemed an absurd suggestion, but as you mulled it over, perhaps it wasn't such a strange idea after all.

"It's a long shot, but it might be Darriwil." Blaidd tilted his head, glancing towards you at the sound of your voice. "Maybe someone else already trapped him in there."
"Every scrap of gossip placed him around the Mistwood," Faolán insisted, "and yet the trail ran cold with nary a hint of him leaving Limgrave. I reckon he's still around here. I reckon he might have gotten himself thrown in an Evergaol."
The grey wolf's gaze flitted between the two of you, ears twitching in thought, his underbite snagging in his lip as he almost literally chewed the idea over.
"It would explain many things, but poses more questions than it answers..." he murmured to himself.
"Let's check it out, then."
"Not to adventure-block you, my Lady, but let me scout it by myself. A feckin' nuisance for throwing yourself into danger is what you are."
A spark of laughter ran through his voice despite his words, and the eyes that glittered down at you couldn't have been any kindlier as he stooped to nuzzle your forehead. He inclined his head towards Blaidd, glancing in his direction then back to you in a way that seemed almost pointed. Like he was trying to guide you towards Blaidd for some reason. Why, though? You stared back at him blankly, and he smirked.
"Besides," he added, "I'm the fastest of us. I'll be but a moment." He raised his head to address the other wolf. "And if you don't keep her safe, Blaidd, what I'll do to you will make you wish you were in an Evergaol."
Before Blaidd could do more than lift his brow, Faolán stepped into the centre of the plaza and disappeared. You were left with Blaidd, the cawing of some distant raven that only seemed to deepen the silence that hung over you, and the breeze that skimmed cold against your heated skin. You risked looking up at Blaidd, only to find he was looking past you. There was nothing to see behind you. No, being suddenly left alone with you had left Blaidd as shy as you. Faolán had wanted the two of you left behind, however. That pointed look of his had to mean something, right? ...You can love him. And he can love you. If you want to.

You cleared your throat.
"There's - something I should tell you, if you'll listen. It's about me and Faolán."
"You and Faolán?" His question came as a murmur, his tone even softer and smokier than usual.
"After you left the other day, we talked about you."
"If it's regarding the arrow he shot at me, we've put that behind us."

You frowned to yourself. They had? There must be more to it than simply moving on, if you knew your shadow. The atmosphere had been so peculiar between them when they returned with the deer. Faolán still hadn't told you what had happened between them.

"No, not the arrow. It was about you. See, Faolán figured something out even before I did. I like you a lot, Blaidd. More than I was ready to admit to myself, let alone to you. When I said I wanted to stay friends, I meant it, but I'd like to be something else as well."
Blaidd stared down at you. His cheeks were almost glowing under his dark fur.
"Do you truly mean that? If you seek to lie in order to spare my feelings, I'll ask you to stop now, for it will only make matters worse."
"I mean it! I really, really like you, and if you feel the same way, then maybe we could do something about it."
His gaze returned to the Evergaol. For all the caution in his face, the tension that seized his shoulders, he must have anticipated a vengeful half-wolf springing at him from it at any moment.
"Are you and your shadow no longer lovers, then? I thought nothing would rupture a bond such as yours."
"We're still together."
The fur at his neck bristled as he scowled, the red of his cheeks deepening not just with embarrassment but with anger.
"Then what do you mean by coming to me with such words? I'm not a man who cuckolds another, especially a friend and fellow shadow. I may have thought of it, but I would never act on such a thing, and I wouldn't expect you to do so either."
"It wouldn't be like that, I promise. Fao-"

A shimmering mass at the Evergaol's entrance interrupted you, a cluster of magic that drew together into the shape of a half-wolf. Faolán was panting, hunched over so that his hands clasped his legs just above his knees. The poor shadow looked exhausted.

"Is - is Darriwil iridescent?" he asked.
Blaidd tilted his head. "What?"
"Is Darriwil iridescent?" your shadow repeated. "Only there's someone in there whose armour looks like a beetle's shell. Fast little fecker is what he is. Almost caught up with me before I got out."
Blaidd's ear flicked up at the word 'fast'. "I'd hardly say that Darriwil looks like a beetle, but - "
The grey wolf may not have known what Faolán was on about, but you did. Those beetles glittered from deep within your childhood memories. How many summer nights had you and your shadow admired the creatures that clung so tenaciously to the tree trunks? Despite their size - they dwarfed most other insects - they were timid things, scuttling away if you got too close, but when one of you caught a beetle you'd hold it up and pivot it in the light to see how the moonlight bounced off its dark shell in greens and blues, purples and pinks.
"Back home, these big beetles used to come out in the summer," you explained to a still confused-looking Blaidd. "Usually they looked black, but when the light hit them they were a kind of blue-purple."
Blaidd's tail froze, hanging in the air before almost vibrating with adrenaline. "Darriwil's armour had such a sheen to it... Perhaps you truly have found him."
Faolán preened. "You know I'll never let you forget it if I have, right?"
"Crow as you please - hearing the traitor draw his last breath will be worth it."
"Are you ready, my Lady?" Faolán threaded his fingers through yours. You squeezed his hand, then held out the other for Blaidd to take. He eyed it the way a Runebear might eye a trap, but finally enclosed your hand in his. With each hand wrapped in bristly fur, two sets of leathery paw-pads pressed into your skin, the three of you entered the Evergaol together.

You had no idea how you'd have tackled Darriwil without your half-wolf allies. Even faced with three of you, the Bloodhound Knight was as treacherous in his combat as he'd been in his heart.

It was a lithe and long-limbed being that met you in the Evergaol, crouched like a beast ready to spring. His armour was of a metal you'd never seen before, something with the same blue-purple iridescence as the beetles Faolán had described. Blaidd had warned you that a dagger was little use against your opponent, and so it was the hilt of your greatsword that your hand clenched around as you ran towards the Bloodhound Knight. He didn't even lift himself from the ground to face you. He hardly moved, in fact, but simply stared at you from within that pointed helmet. This was going to be easy. You grinned to yourself, swinging your sword in a diagonal slash that - clashed against Darriwil's sword and bounced off it with the force of the impact. He'd dodged so fast that you'd hardly seen him move. One moment your sword was about to cleave into his head, the next he had leapt out of the way, parrying your blow in mid-air, and ducked behind you. There wasn't time to turn round. If there was an attack coming, you had to dodge it right now. You rolled forward and heard the whistle of his curved sword pass behind you. Shit, Blaidd was not joking when he told you the traitor was fast! This wouldn't be easy at all.

Darriwil was a natural acrobat. His feet hardly touched the cobbles or grass of the Evergaol - he swooped, whirled, soared across the battlefield as if he was the wind itself. Even Faolán found himself outstripped when he pounced, sword raised, and the blade did little more than tear the hem of the traitor's cloak. Blaidd stalked forward and Faolán drew back, positioning himself for a clear shot at your opponent. You stuck close to Blaidd so you wouldn't be in the arrow's path. You and Blaidd fought in tandem. As Darriwil lifted his sword to parry Blaidd's attack, you saw your chance to stab under his armpit. It was a wound, but a shallow one, for Darriwil pulled away and swiped a set of metallic claws at you. Blaidd used the distraction to aim a blow at his head. The Bloodhound Knight blocked it at the last moment, then leapt just as a distinctive whooshing sound swept towards you. Darriwil would have cleared the great arrow if it wasn't for his cloak. The fabric audibly tore as the arrow buried itself in the ground, pinning the cape down with it. You and Blaidd descended on him, managing to get one more attack in before, with a loud rip, the traitor ducked around you. His cape was left behind, little more than a heap of butchered cloth skewered by the arrow.

"Arrows are worthless in this match, my Lady," Faolán apologised as he returned to your side. "Unless you two can trap him."
His words set off a spark of realisation in your head. While you were struggling to hit Darriwil, he had done little more than block, dodge and counterattack. Fighting three of you had forced him into a defensive role. The few attacks he'd made had hardly been devastating. No, his strength was his incredible speed. Take that away, and he would be any run-of-the-mill foe.
"...I think we'll have to trap him anyway. The reason we're hardly harming him is because he escapes before we land a hit. All we need to do is to block off his escape routes."
"It might just work," Blaidd growled. "If two of us flank him, and the third strikes from the front, we'll almost have him encircled. If we keep up a strong offense, we may even trap him between us entirely. And when that happens, vengeance shall be ours for the taking."

Darriwil lunged towards you. The shadows circled him, closing in from either side. Darriwil darted towards you and tried to slip around you, but you were ready. As he approached, you feinted an attack from the left. The traitor skittered to the right. Swinging your arm round, you followed up with a swipe that caught him across the chest. He hopped back. He may have escaped your reach, but he'd landed within striking distance of Faolán. The three of you advanced on him together, herding him towards one another as you swung at him, blocking every chance of escape with your swords. Darriwil ducked low in an attempt to weave past your legs. Blaidd brought his sword down on the Bloodhound Knight, hard enough to knock him flat on the ground. The moment he lay prone, pinned down by three swords, there was no hope left for him. No way to escape the justice meted on him by his former comrade. You and Faolán met each other's eyes and felt an unspoken agreement pass between you as you turned to Blaidd. While you'd helped Blaidd to find and defeat Darriwil, neither of you would claim the traitor's life. The claim staked by the grey wolf was so much greater than anything you or your shadow could have come up with. And so the two of you simply kept Darriwil trapped between you. Your sword stabbed into his shoulder, while Faolán's pierced his leg. Blaidd loomed over the traitor and stared down into the helmeted face, his eyes burning and yet utterly cold. Without a word, he raised his blade and lopped off Darriwil's head in a single stroke.

Chapter Text

Darriwil's fingers clenched tight on the hilt of his sword, then fell slack. The weapon dropped to the ground, echoing the clatter of its owner's helmed head on the cobbles. You were still in the grip of the adrenaline coursing through your body. Your heart pounded as you withdrew your greatsword from the traitor's body - there was no need to pin him to the ground anymore - and took up his blade for a closer look. It weighed more than its delicate form would have you believe, yet it sat much easier in your hand than you expected. Easier than your own weapon, in fact. The long blade flowed in a ripple, undulating back and forth until it ended in a curve not unlike a sickle's tip. You gave it an experimental swing, and you could have sworn you felt the air being cleaved in two. This thing was dangerous.

Blaidd had stooped in the long grass to wipe the final traces of Darriwil's lifeblood from his greatsword. His face was a mask of grim triumph.
"Would you mind if I take this?" you asked, holding up Darriwil's sword.
"Not at all. Consider it part of your reward, if it pleases you."
"Thanks. It's a really good sword."
"He delighted in his weapons. The Bloodhound's Fang, he used to call that."
"Bloodhound's Fang..." you repeated to yourself as you stowed the weapon away, careful not to let it pierce your bag. The name somehow fit it well. There was a vicious elegance about Darriwil's sword, something swift and precise enough to carve a chunk out of thin air air or slit a throat before its owner knew any better. You'd have to figure out a way of storing it safely. Curved swords were tricky enough, but a traditional sheath simply wouldn't work for something that wove back and forth like the Bloodhound's Fang.

"So..." You pondered your next words with care. "The Bloodhound Fang is only part of my reward? What else did you have in mind?"
He took something from a pocket and held his fist out to you. When you held out your hand under his, he dropped something into your palm.
"Don't say I'm not a man of my word."
You turned over the rugged little shard of stone in your hand. Hm. Much like a smithing stone, but you'd never seen one of such a pale hue. Perhaps it was something rare and precious, but in your ignorance you were kind of disappointed. How Blaidd's voice had rumbled deep in his throat when he promised you an 'ample reward' so long ago! Even Faolán had picked up on that sultry purr. Blaidd had shared so much with you already: friendship, knowledge, support, training. Every moment of your acquaintance of him was worth ten times the chip of rock that was supposedly your true reward. You resolved not to let on how you felt, but it must have shown in your face, for he gave you a confused frown.
"Is there a problem?"
"Not a problem, no. I bet this is great for someone who knows how to use it. ...Shit, I just mean that I'm not sure what this..." Stop digging, moron. "It's a smithing stone, right?"
"Of an exceptional sort. If you venture north to Raya Lucaria, and come across a venerable blacksmith who's a little on the large side… Tell him I sent you. He knows that stone's worth. He'll be sure to treat you right."
"I wouldn't mind treating you right." The thought slipped from your mouth before you had chance to refine it into something more palatable. But no, there it went, and it took Blaidd by surprise just as much as you.
"You... wanted to...?"
"I tried to tell you while Faolán was investigating the Evergaol. He's fine with me loving you as well as him. If you'd still like to try out being together, we can. It wouldn't be cuckolding. I'm not looking to humiliate him. I just... I truly care about both of you, and I want both of you in my life."
Blaidd cocked his head. His expression was hard to read, perhaps purposefully so. His tail fluttered low in an agitated wag that scuffed the backs of his legs.
"Not that I don't believe you, Tarnished, but let me hear it from his own mouth before this goes any further."

Your shadow had slipped away as soon as Darriwil was slain. For the last few minutes he'd prowled the Evergaol gathering up the arrows he'd loosed. With the last of them wrenched from the earth and wiped clean, he sauntered back in your direction.
"Faolán!" you called in his direction. "Blaidd needs to talk to you."
"Askin' after a handsome young man, is he?" came the nonchalant reply as he joined the two of you. "I already told him, he's not my type."
"Sordid as your words are, they're not entirely off the mark," Blaidd murmured, only for Faolán to hoot with laughter.
"Knew it! Knew you couldn't resist me. Not like anyone would blame you, of course."
"Not you," the grey wolf grumbled. "It's your Empyrean I want to ask you about. She says that you two are... well, that you're... you wouldn't mind it if I were to... become part of your... relationship."
"My Lady!" Faolán's head turned so fast that you feared for his neck. "Such lies, such slander! Oh, for shame! May your bare arse sit upon a thousand nettles!"
The look Blaidd gave you made you want to sink into the ground. Your shadow's sense of humour was going to kill this relationship before it even started.
"Faolán!" you hissed. "Now's not the time for this!"
"Forgive me, my Lady. I'll write lines. The look on your faces, though!" The red wolf grinned at both of you. "But it's the truth she speaks. I can share. If she loves you, and you love her, then I won't stand in your way."
For a moment Blaidd did nothing but stare at your shadow, wide silver-blue eyes fixed on clear golden ones. The corner of his mouth twitched, and he burst out laughing. It wasn't so much that he was amused by Faolán's deception - you saw his relief in the weight that lifted from his shoulders. His tail wagged so hard it all but churned his cloak into a whirl of grey.
"But my Lady loves me too, so you have to respect that as well," Faolán added. "Don't mess with me and I won't mess with you. Agreed?"
"Agreed," Blaidd replied, tail still spinning.

You caught hold of the grey wolf's cloak and tugged him towards you. He crouched and you brought your mouth close to his until his breath warmed your skin. Under the tatty fur, you saw how flushed his cheeks were, the little spark of excitement lighting up his eyes. This was it. Once you kissed him, things would never be able to go back to how they were.
The sensation was at once familiar and new. You knew how to kiss a muzzle after what must be thousands of times with Faolán. Even so, the fact that it wasn't the harvest-scent and softness of his fur greeting you - it wasn't your shadow's golden eyes lighting up as your lips brushed against his, his throat making that rumble of pleasure nor his fingers cupping the back of your head - threw you for just a moment. But you wouldn't even be doing this if Faolán hadn't said it was okay, and so you let yourself melt into Blaidd like the old friend he was. Not enough to let him take charge of the kiss, however. When he tilted his head and you felt the first questioning brush of tongue against your mouth, you forced him back and quickly deepened the kiss before he could try again. Your hands skimmed across his cheeks, gently cradling his face, and the sweeping caress of your thumbs met the roughness of scars. You held him and kissed him with all the tenderness you had for him, all the tenderness he deserved. And when the kiss broke, you saw exactly the same tenderness glowing in his face.

You only gazed into his eyes for a moment, for a cold nose found your cheek. Faolán was beside you, kneeling to give your cheek an insistent nuzzle. With a huff of laughter, you turned your head and kissed him too. His arm slipped around you and held you close. Faolán was as familiar and comforting as a blanket or a cup of tea. He accepted you wholeheartedly, obeyed when you cupped his head and tilted him to just the right angle, as always. He accepted the way you felt about Blaidd. You'd kissed them both and the world wasn't ending. Your heart didn't feel smaller for being shared between two - if anything, it felt bigger.

There was a shuffling sound beside you as Blaidd knelt to match your shadow. He nosed at you like Faolán had, shyly at first, but as he became more sure of himself he drew his tongue across your cheek. You broke Faolán's kiss with your giggling and pressed your mouth to Blaidd's again. Your shadow was not prepared to let you off so easily. As your mouth met Blaidd's once more, Faolán nuzzled into you and the tips of his fangs nibbled delicately along your ear. What a fate to meet. Two gentle yet needy half-wolves who both craved your attention. There was nothing for it but to keep alternating between them, keep kissing one until the nuzzles of the other got too much.

"You're good boys," you told them between kisses. "You're both such good boys. It's -" Faolán snatched another kiss from you as you spoke. "It's nice to share, right?"
"It is." Blaidd's muzzle trailed along your jawline and brushed down to your throat, his nose and tongue providing an interplay of cold and warmth along your skin. The red wolf ran his hands down from your cheeks, over your chestplate and down to your waist, before he slipped open a strap from your armour and took hold of your shirt.
"Faol...?"
Your shadow grinned back at you, mischievous eyes gleaming almost as brightly as his teeth. "As you said, my Lady, we can share. If you two agree to it, I wouldn't mind sharing you right now."

What, already? Not that the idea wasn't a delicious one, but what about poor Blaidd? Wasn't this too much for him too soon? You'd barely had your first kiss a few minutes ago, and now Faolán was springing a threesome on him? Blaidd's eyes had widened, his ears pitching back and forth like sails caught in a storm - the poor shadow looked completely flummoxed. He lowered his head further, his tongue dipping into your collarbone, but you'd seen that little glimmer of darkness in his eyes.
"I'm willing if you are." Curse that smoky whisper and the way it went right through you.
"Only if you're sure. There's no rush."
"I'd like to, my L-" Blaidd faltered. His fingers, which had joined your shadow's in prying off your armour, paused. "I'm sorry, but I can never address you as Faolán does. Such a phrase can only make me think of Lady Ranni."
"That's fine." According to Faolán, the witch Blaidd served was his own stepsister. Nothing put a dampener on a threesome quite like being reminded of a family member. "We'll talk over that stuff another time, and find a word you're more comfortable with."
"...Ma'am?"
You blinked. Something felt so right about Blaidd calling you 'Ma'am'. As if it was always meant to be - even as if it had already been, and hearing him say it had roused it from your memory. That word combined with that voice to make something uniquely precious. You knew right then that this was the title he'd always use for you, the one you'd always want to hear from him.
"'Ma'am' works fine."

His smile widened and he nudged your jaw upwards with his snout. The two of them eagerly worked the straps of your armour loose. Faolán knew where each of them was - it was often his job to dress or undress you - but Blaidd was no slouch either. Your armour soon lay in the grass, half-hidden under your discarded shirt. Two pairs of furred hands roamed over the expanse of skin bared to them, two tongues trailed over your body, two sets of sharp teeth teased along your flesh. Your breath ran ragged, already a hint of a moan on each exhale as both half-wolves toyed with you. You had a hand on each of their heads, ruffling through the thick manes of fur to reward their diligence. Blaidd's head was close to yours, and he gazed up at you to watch your reaction as he mouthed at your shoulder, tongue and teeth working in tandem against your skin, and one hand squeezed your breast. The other breast was already in Faolán's grasp. He was a little rougher, his familiarity with your body and preferences giving him more confidence in handling you than Blaidd. Your shadow kissed his way down your side, teeth nipping your skin when he reached your hip. His free hand fumbled at your legs, seeking out the fastenings that would loosen the remainder of your armour.

"You guys should take some of your own stuff off," you pointed out. You stroked down the backs of their heads until your fingers slipped between their plate and their necks. "Not going to be very nice for me being pressed up against all this metal, is it?"

You reached to help Blaidd with his armour. Unlike Faolán, the grey wolf wore full plate. It would take far longer for him to shed it all. You were glad to assist him, though. You were especially glad for the little gropes it afforded you, the snatched opportunities to fondle the body that lay hidden beneath the armour. Where the red wolf's muscles were sleek and streamlined, Blaidd was sturdily built and pleasingly squeezable. You were so distracted by the perks of the task that by the time you and Blaidd had worked off his bulkiest pieces of armour, Faolán had shimmied out of his and returned his attentions to your legs. He pulled the straps free and set your greaves aside. Your shadow had barely begun tugging your trousers down when he froze.

"Blaidd," he called to the other wolf, smirking. "Get down here."
Blaidd tilted his head but knelt once more, lowering his head until it was level with Faolán's. Your shadow resumed undressing you until your trousers were past your knees. ...Oh, by the gods, you knew what Faolán was up to. If he was trying to fluster you, though, it was nothing compared to Blaidd's red-faced stare.
"Soaked right through, my Lady," Faolán announced in a voice that was slathered so heavily with false innocence that his composure threatened to collapse under the weight of it. "So much of a wolf's-bitch that you're already getting off to it. We could probably smell you a mile off, right, Blaidd?"

Much as Faolán loved to try and embarrass you, it was Blaidd's response that set you blushing. The grey wolf pressed his snout to you, the thin fabric of your underwear the only thing separating his mouth from your pussy. He snuffled at you, then growled as he lapped at the stickiness coating your inner thighs. Even Faolán was taken aback.
"Horny little eejits, the both of you. Can't believe I'm the most dignified one here. Come on." He bumped Blaidd with his shoulder. "Help me get rid of these."
You stepped out of your trousers when Faolán hitched them down to you ankles. Blaidd's mouth drifted to your hip and he caught hold of your underwear between his teeth, a few pointed fangs skimming your flesh. Faolán followed suit at the other side, and together they worked your underwear down past your thighs. Once more you stepped out of them, and stood with your legs apart to give them more room. Two muzzles slipped between your thighs. A tongue ran over your skin, and Faolán kissed your inner thigh while Blaidd's mouth found the top of your slit. By the gods, the shadows had taken so well to sharing. And Blaidd was already so eager to please. This wasn't a scene - you hadn't asked Faolán if he was ready to serve, since things were already moving fast enough without you adding dominance into the mix - but the grey wolf was doing so well. He'd probably take to submission like a duck to water.

The only thing better than having one mouth between your legs was to have two. Your breath caught at the sensation of their mouths, their tongues, teasing at your pussy. A pair of hands parted your folds - you couldn't make out whose - and the shadows made their way deeper. Faolán's lips closed around your clit, while Blaidd's tongue-tip fluttered at your entrance.

"...Fuck... You two really know what you're doing, huh...?"
"Thank you, Ma'am," Blaidd mumbled into you, not bothering to lift his mouth to speak, so that you felt the movement of his lips against your skin.
"Likewise," Faolán replied around your clit.
Every so often the two of them would switch places, the red wolf's tongue dipping teasingly inside you while Blaidd toyed with your clit. One time, Faolán took advantage of the swap for a quick lick at Blaidd's muzzle, lapping your juices from around the other shadow's mouth. The grey shadow responded with a growl and a flash of fangs.
"S-settle down, you two," you chided them. "Don't wind him up, Faol..."

While you could hardly get enough of the shadows, things were not so easy for them. It was their size that hindered them - there wasn't much room for two kneeling half-wolves to get their muzzles between a human's legs.
"Move over a little, Faolán. I can't reach."
Faolán elbowed him, earning a fang-lined snarl from the grey wolf. "You're the one in the way, you lug!"
"This is impossible with both of us," Blaidd grumbled. "She's too bloody short."
"It's you two that are too bloody tall!" you retorted. Still, you couldn't not grin at the complaint. Who wouldn't have enjoyed two lovers bickering over access to their pussy?
"Pick her up, then," Faolán interrupted. "Can we pick you up, my Lady?"
Pick you up? What kind of acrobatic shenanigans did he have in mind?
"Go on, then. As long as you don't drop me."

Two pairs of thick-furred hands wrapped around your waist, big enough to enclose it fully, their claws pressing lightly into your skin. They stood and hoisted you up between them until your hips were level with their heads. You hooked one leg over Blaidd's shoulder. Faolán caught hold of your other leg and held it up in the air, forcing you to lean almost horizontally in the other direction to keep your balance. Blaidd set a hand under your side to support you. Between the two wolves, you were stable. Stable but stuck. There was no way to get down or even change your position without their assistance. Which they would not be giving for a long time, occupied as they were. As soon as you were steady, both of them dove between your legs again.

"Thanks, my Lady - much better," Faolán purred into your flesh before his tongue sank deep into your pussy.
"So much easier sharing your cunt like this, Ma'am," Blaidd added as he lapped at your clit.
There was no way you weren't going to get off from this. Your heart was already pounding fit to burst, pressure spreading up your body, as both wolves ate you out together like their lives depended on it. Your pussy squeezed tight on Faolán's tongue as it rubbed inside you, Blaidd's muzzle side-by-side with your shadow's so that he could tease at your clit. You couldn't even grind back against their mouths otherwise you might wriggle right out of their grasp. No, you'd have to take exactly what they gave you. They had no intention of leaving you hanging, figuratively at least. As the pleasure built and built, you lost track of whose name you were moaning or whose fur your fingers clutched tight in. You were holding someone, you were moaning something, and as you came your clumsy brain processed little more than that. Faolán withdrew as soon as you stopped shaking, a smirk of satisfaction across his glistening muzzle.
"Keep hold of her a moment, Blaidd, I need to get her bag."

Their hands shifted under you until Blaidd was supporting your whole body. As Faolán ducked, you set your other leg across Blaidd's shoulder so that you sat in a sort of reverse piggyback, straddling his face and practically wrapped around his head. With your shadow out of the way, the grey wolf dove back in with a hungry growl that vibrated against your still-sensitive pussy. His tongue traced along your folds before sinking as deep into you as he could reach. You buried your hands in his fur. You were still a little weak from your climax, yet you bucked your hips against his face. His hands on your ass held you even closer to his face, a gesture of silent encouragement.

The red wolf returned with a couple of small jars, lids already removed.
"If you can stop wearing my Lady as a mask and quit treating this Evergaol like it's a bush, you might want to start preparing her."

Blaidd reluctantly pried you from his face and Faolán took hold of you again. He gazed down at you, mulling over how best to position you, before he settled on holding you level with his chest, supporting you under your backside. Blaidd dipped a finger into a jar, staring at the lustrous grease that coated it.
"Ah, this is the stuff you told me about, right?"
You startled. "Have you been telling him about our sex life, Faolán?"
"Only the mechanics of it, my Lady. And a very keen audience he was, too." You shook your head at your shadow's audacity. "Now, would you mind terribly if he took the front and I took the back?"
So Faolán was committed to sharing you in a very literal sense. Part of you had expected things to end up this way as soon as the half-wolves started undressing you, but the confirmation of it sent a ripple of pleasure through you. You nodded. Blaidd, however, raised his brow at the other wolf.
"You're taking the back?"
Faolán let out a long sigh.
"Well, I intend fucking my Lady up the arse, but what you do in the meantime is your business. Sit and watch, if you can't think of anything better to do."
"No, I'll take the front, but... Thank you. Very generous of you."
"I'm feeling generous today," Faolán cackled, before adding to you in a loud stage-whisper, "Thought I'd treat him. He's a bit of a virgin, after all."
"I'm not," he growled. "I've done plenty."
"It doesn't count if it's your hand or a bush."
"Why would I count a bush...?"
Hang on, had Blaidd never actually been inside someone? That would explain his curiosity about the little jar of grease; he'd never encountered the stuff before. You'd taken it for granted that the recipe you'd found amongst your mother's herbals was a common one. Did humans in the Lands Between just not sleep with half-wolves? Did they settle for sleeping with each other? Preposterous. Oh well, more for you. It only made having Blaidd more precious than ever.

Blaidd set one greased finger to your pussy just as you felt your shadow's touch skim over the curve of your buttock and press into you slightly. You winced as both fingers slowly sank inside you. Okay, you'd let Faolán take you up the arse a few times when he'd been on especially good behaviour, but you'd never had more than one hole in use at a time. Having something inside your pussy and your ass at the same time made you feel almost too full. The half-wolves paused at the sound of your breath catching in your throat.
"Are you alright, Ma'am?"
"My Lady, should we slow down?"
You shook your head. "N-no, it's fine... It's... Fuck, it's weird having both of you inside..."
Faolán kissed the top of your head. "If you need to stop, tell us. We'll switch to the lube once you're greased enough."

The other jar was not the magical grease, but an ordinary lubricant whose recipe you'd found in the same cookbook. While the grease made you large enough to take a half-wolf, it didn't really work as a lubricant despite its oily consistency. Faolán would still have to lube himself up, and if they were both going to have you at once then it made sense for Blaidd to do so too.

Both shadows resumed their task, easing their fingers inside you and carefully spreading the grease. Blaidd kept glancing to your face, watching for any sign of discomfort in your expression. Every so often you'd catch a flash of movement at the top of your field of vision, a blur of orange, that was Faolán peeping over you for the same reason. The sensation of being penetrated twice over was hardly something one could get used to, but each new dab of grease massaged into your flesh certainly made it easier. You'd almost stopped fearing that their sharp claws might meet and tear you open from the inside. That grease was powerful stuff, though, and it had never let you down before. Besides, both shadows were taking the utmost care not to hurt you. Blaidd seemed to take his cue from your more experienced shadow. When Faolán deemed you were ready for another finger to slip inside you, Blaidd dipped two fingers into the jar and followed suit. And once you were greased enough that even four half-wolf fingers could be hilted inside you, both of them made short work of lubing themselves up.

Faolán wrapped his hands under your thighs and held your legs wide apart so that your bent knees were splayed out to either side. Your back was braced against his chest, your hips hovering above his waiting cock. Blaidd moved in until you were sandwiched between the two shadows, and you clung to him.
"You're sure she can take both of us at once?" the grey wolf asked.
"Sure she can," the red wolf replied, and you heard the grin in his voice. "The number of times I've had her, I've probably stretched her out. If she can fit me, she can definitely fit you."

He was getting hundreds of lines for this later, even if deep down you loved the filthy way he spoke about you sometimes. It was still cheek, of course, so he still got lines for it. But that didn't stop you from enjoying it, and Faolán was very aware of that. It was all part of the game.

"I'll be fine," you reassured Blaidd. "But go gently. This is new for me too. Faolán and I use safewords to make sure we're okay. 'Red' to stop immediately, 'yellow' to change what you're doing, and 'green' means everything's fine. So if it gets too much for any of us, we can tell each other what we need."
Blaidd blinked. "I see. That's part of the... dominance aspect, is it?"
"Yeah. In some kinds of scenes, 'stop' isn't clear enough. It just keeps us able to understand each other. I'll explain it more later, okay?"
He nodded.
"You ready, my Lady?" your shadow asked, and you glanced up at him with a smile.
"Ready."

Faolán nudged you against Blaidd's chest until he took the hint. He held you against himself, bearing all of your weight and letting Faolán use his hands. With one red-furred hand on your waist, coaxing you to tilt your hips back, your shadow slowly began to breach you from behind. Your throat seemed to close by itself as Faolán guided himself into you inch by inch. You stifled a groan into Blaidd's fur. Even if you were greased and he was lubed, he was still huge. He took you as though one wrong move would shatter you, but it was not only a matter of guiding the tapered tip inside you. Directly below it Faolán's cock thickened into a wide bump.
"You're doing well, my Lady," he whispered as you felt yourself stretch around him, his fingers stroking along the small of your back. "Try not to gasp like that, it makes you too tight. Keep breathing... There, see? Almost in..."
With Blaidd holding you secure and Faolán's gentle ministrations, it wasn't long until what felt like endless inches were finally hilted inside you. Your shadow scooped you up and lifted you away from the grey wolf. Being tilted back against Faolán's body once more only made the cock inside you feel even bigger, even deeper inside you. He held you against him like you were a target, the hands on your thighs keeping your legs nice and open for Blaidd. The other shadow closed the distance between you and lined himself up. His fingers trembled as he rubbed the tip of his cock against your pussy, ever so slightly nudging your folds apart. You hadn't gotten a proper look at his dick but, going by the size of the head brushing at your entrance, you guessed he was a similar size and shape to your shadow. You weren't sure what you'd done for the Greater Will to bless you with not one half-wolf lover but two. Two wonderful, submissive, half-wolf sweethearts with two very nice cocks indeed, that you were about to take both of at once. Whatever it was that had made the gods favour you, you'd have to keep doing it.

Much as you'd arched your back and pushed out your hips to help Faolán slip inside you, now you tried to meet Blaidd's movement by rocking forward. It wasn't an easy task when you were already skewered on Faolán's dick. Moving your hips only reminded you of how big he was and how deeply he was buried inside your ass. Large as their fingers had been, that was nothing compared to having a second cock begin to enter you, and for all the grease you were only a human. Faolán was already taking up so much room inside you that you'd have sworn that Blaidd's dick was sliding against his, almost pushing it aside to get inside you. He was slower and even more cautious in penetrating you than your shadow had been. If anything, you thought as his hips crept a fraction closer towards yours, he was holding back on purpose. Nerves? You were ready to offer a few encouraging words until you really looked closely at his face. There was something blissful and almost languid in that not-quite-smile. Utter contentment. He stared down at you, eyes soft yet sharp all at once, never once blinking or looking away but instead drinking in the sight of you. This was no overexcited hound racing towards his prey. No, you realised that he was savouring every moment. Now he was about halfway in, enough to not need the aid of his hand, his fingers trailed up your stomach and cradled your waist.
"You feel precisely as I imagined you would, Ma'am."
Another hand landed on the top of your head and ruffled your hair.
"Not half bad, is she?" you heard Faolán ask above you. "You in yet?"
"Almost... Let me..." The rest of Blaidd's words were lost in a growl as he raised his hips and guided yours down just a little more, just enough to hilt the last few inches inside you and crush the fur of his abdomen against your skin. You bit your lip to stifle a groan. Blaidd felt every bit as massive as Faolán. You'd seen the aftermaths of executions; you'd seen bodies impaled on stakes, left aloft like gruesome flags proclaiming the fate of anyone who committed the same crimes. How did that compare to riding two shadows at once? Other than the whole... torture and death aspect.
"You're all right?" your shadow asked the other.
"More than all right..."
"And how about you, my Lady? That almost enough wolf dick for you?"
"J-just about," you replied, your laughter coming more as a breathless huff. "You can move when you're ready."

Faolán began to lift you, and Blaidd quickly matched the motion. You felt their cocks slide from you until only the tips remained inside, threatening to slip out if they raised you any further. They slowly lowered you onto them again. The ensuing fumble between the two shadows trying to fit themselves as snugly inside you as before - especially when they were both trying to ease in that elliptical bump below the tip at the same time - made it clear that this wasn't going to be as simple as you'd thought. Up until now, Blaidd had been the one following Faolán's lead. As the three of you moved together, with you doing your best to grind against both shadows at once, you soon found that what worked best was if only Blaidd moved. The poor guy was new to this and yet he'd have to take the initiative. His fingers dug deep into your flesh as he pinned your legs further apart. Each thrust pushed you against your shadow's body, forced his cock to nudge that little bit deeper. Faolán did little more than grind against your ass, and yet that was enough for the both of you. It felt like you were being stretched from the inside. For all the red wolf's taunting about having stretched you to fit him, it felt literal right now. The grease would handle it, right? You'd never forgive your shadow if your innards collapsed like a beached jellyfish. But as you got used to the pair of cocks moving inside you, the worrying sensation of stretching faded away. They'd found a rhythm of Blaidd rocking you against Faolán. It no longer felt like you were being skewered by two dicks, but one particularly thick one that filled you up in the most delicious way. Being squeezed inside you like this forced them to rub up against each other as well as you, each of them providing further pressure on your more sensitive spots.

"You're - you're all right, Ma'am?" Blaidd panted. One of his palms stroked along your thigh. "Does it not hurt you?"
"No, it's... It's good..." You raked your fingers through his abdominal fur. "You're doing so well..."
With Blaidd supporting much of your weight, your shadow had taken hold of your breasts. You tilted your head back to gaze up at him, letting your free hand cradle his hip as he ground against your ass.
"How about you, Faol...?"
"No complaints here, my Lady-" He grinned down at you, punctuating his words with a quick squeeze of your breast.

You had already reached one climax from having them eat you out, but you were close to coming again. Blaidd's cock rubbed against your deepest spots in just the right way, and having Faolán fuck you at the same time felt pretty damn good as well. It was fun every now and again to surrender your power, to let your shadow set the pace, especially when one instance of relinquishing control to Blaidd helped ease him into a new experience. Just as long as he understood that this was a treat, that normally it was you who was to be obeyed.

Your shadow chuckled from behind you.
"Close, aren't you? You're t-tensing up - so feckin' tight -"
Was that a gasp or a wince that shuddered through him hard enough for you to feel against your back? Either way, Faolán wasn't going to last much longer than you. Blaidd's ears pricked up, and one hand slipped between your legs. While Faolán kneaded your breasts, rolling your nipples between finger and thumb, Blaidd rubbed at your clit.
"G-go on, Ma'am," the grey wolf half-purred, half-growled. "I'd like to watch..."
Well, this was just unfair! The absolute cheek of the two of them teaming up against you, conspiring to make you come undone. You'd just have to put them in their places next time. Because there'd have to be a next time. They were far too good. That little smirk not quite hiding in the corner of Blaidd's muzzle, the twinkle in his eye as he glanced up to Faolán, hinted at some depths of naughtiness that you'd have to work a little harder to bring into the light. Not right now, though - not right now - right now you were far too distracted by your talented half-wolves - their fingers teasing at your sensitive flesh, their cocks deep inside your body - Your eyes scrunched closed, your toes curled as your second climax tore away what was left of your conscious thought. For those few seconds, there was nothing left to think. There was only feeling, sensation, the blissful release that wrung out every part of you. You only barely heard your shadow's urgent whines battling their way through the post-climax haze.

"M-My Lady, I'm about to knot you... You want my knot in that tight little arse of yours?"
"I sure do..." Even your own voice sounded distant to your ears. "Neither of you are to pull out, I want both of your knots inside me..."
"You're sure of this, Ma'am...?"
Faolán laughed. "You heard her -"

The half-wolves held your hips down, pushing up against you as hard as they could until their growing knots were well and truly stuck inside you. You'd underestimated just how big having a knot inside your pussy and ass at once would be. How big, and how hot. And from the pleasured panting that escaped both shadows, growls carried on the undercurrent of each ragged breath, not to mention the way Blaidd bit his lip above you, you guessed they didn't exactly hate it either. Competing for space with each other must have made you feel even tighter, made you squeeze on them with a pleasurable pain. Blaidd was the first to find release. His grasp on your legs tightened so drastically at the first twitch of his cock, the first burst of cum inside you, that he left scratches across your skin. You never knew whether Faolán could feel Blaidd throbbing against him through your flesh, but your shadow came seconds later, the both of them flooding your insides until you felt too full to move. Thank goodness for those oversized knots blocking you up so completely, otherwise you'd surely leak at the slightest movement.

Blaidd and Faolán sank to their knees with the grace of a drunk and disorientated deer. You felt them both flinching as they tried to get to the ground without pulling on the knots trapped inside you, for any sudden movement from one shadow was liable to jolt the other. But they managed it, and guided you over with them as they laid out on their sides. You stretched out in the cool grass. The three of you would be stuck together for another twenty or thirty minutes; you may as well get comfortable.

"So..." you purred from between their bodies, one hand luxuriating in thick grey fur and the other caressing silky red fur. "Was that as good as you thought it'd be?"
"It's always good, my Lady."
"It was, Ma'am. Thank you for letting me join you."
Oh, it was just like Blaidd to actually thank you for letting him get you off. You would have thanked him in return if Faolán hadn't snorted.
"Real little suck-up sometimes, aren't you?"
"If you consider manners to be 'sucking up', then so be it," Blaidd grumbled.
"I'm just grateful that you two are willing to give this relationship a chance," you cut in.

Eager to steer the conversation away from a possible spat, you changed the topic.

"What will you be doing after this, Blaidd? Faolán and I were thinking of tackling Stormveil and heading further into the Lands Between. Do you still have business in Limgrave?"
The grey wolf shook his head. "If I might accompany you, at least through Liurnia of the Lakes. Lady Ranni dwells above the western coast. I'd like you to meet her. And I wish to speak to her about joining you further in your quest, as much as my service to her will allow. If you wish it of me, anyway."
Your heart glowed at his words. "I'd love you to join us! As long as it doesn't cause problems between you and Ranni."
"Which it will," your shadow added, and Blaidd narrowed his eyes. "What? It will! If I came up to my Lady with another Empyrean stuck on my knob and announced we were off on an adventure, the second word out of her mouth would be 'no' and the first would be 'f-"
While you cackled, Blaidd merely shook his head. "Only you would approach the matter with so little tact. For a start, Ma'am would not be 'stuck' anywhere -"
"Just imagine us scuttling up to her all knotted up as we are now. We'd look like a feckin' crab."
"Nobody will be knotting anybody when we meet Lady Ranni! Show a little decorum!" the grey wolf snapped.
"Dick-orum, you say? You want me to show Ranni some dick-orum?"
"Under no circumstances are you to show Lady Ranni that!"

The grin slipped from your face. With your shadow's tongue as sharp as ever and Blaidd's temper making a rare foray to the surface, you realised just how long these twenty minutes might be.

Chapter Text

Unmaidenly Conduct

If I could get this tattooed on the inside of my eyelids I would. I love everything about it - how dark and soft the colours are, how gentle the touching of fingertips is, the Art Nouveau-style border with the moon phases - it's just gorgeous.

Again, this is really lovely. I'm in love with all the colours in the sky, and combined with the wisp of Grace there's a real feel of brisk evening breeze. Having their swords propped against each other is a cute touch too.

Age of Icebound Stars

Nemesis (an icebound return) by Esoteric Mantra

Tumblr link, AO3 backup link
Esoteric Mantra's Tumblr: esoteric-mantra-stuff

A drabble set approximately 16 years after The Age of Icebound Stars' epilogue, exploring the idea of one of the Tarnished's children (here called Lobo) seeking revenge against their mother's killer with the help of a new Tarnished. Bittersweet and very cathartic, with poignant parallels to Blaidd's vengeance against Darriwil, and Esoteric Mantra's fleshing out of Lobo is a delight. The thread that led to this drabble can be found here. Be warned that it contains major character deaths.

Persephone and Hades (an Icebound slighter return) by Esoteric Mantra

Tumblr link, AO3 backup link
Esoteric Mantra's Tumblr: esoteric-mantra-stuff

A sequel to Nemesis. In the afterlife, Blaidd is questioned about the circumstances that led to the breakdown of his relationship with the Tarnished and their eventual violent deaths. Again, very moving, and ends with hope despite the sadness of how things turned out for him and the Tarnished. As it discusses the events leading up to and including those seen in Nemesis, it again contains major character death as well as childhood trauma.
(For those who like music as they read, Majula from Dark Souls 2 is recommended listening.)

Hestia (a mini Icebound return) by Esoteric Mantra

Tumblr link, AO3 backup link
Esoteric Mantra's Tumblr: esoteric-mantra-stuff

Another sequel to Nemesis - intended to be read after Persephone and Hades and before Aegis - this time in the form of a letter written by Lobo to his siblings informing them of what he's done. Gives a definite sense of a healing process being able to begin for all three of them, but of course it's still a little sad on Lobo's part. It references major character death and childhood trauma, which is pretty much a given for this series.

Aegis (A most Icebound slight return) by Esoteric Mantra

Tumblr link, AO3 backup link
Esoteric Mantra's Tumblr: esoteric-mantra-stuff

Implied to take place before Hestia, but meant to be read after Hestia. Lobo and his Tarnished friend try to take on Stormhill, but are waylaid by Margit the Fell Omen. While the last two works were more introspective, this one combines adventure with some tender soul-searching for both characters. There's a real sense of Lobo trying to let go of the past, helped along by this new Tarnished. Major character death and childhood trauma are briefly referenced, and there's Elden Ring-typical combat-related violence and blood.

Orion and the Pleiades (The Icebound slightest return) by Esoteric Mantra

Tumblr link, AO3 backup link
Esoteric Mantra's Tumblr: esoteric-mantra-stuff

A sequel to Aegis, much in the same vein as Lobo and his Tarnished friend's adventures in the Lands Between continue. Lobo's past begins to come to light as a mysterious figure is determined to contact him. It's good to see some familiar characters return, and there's some great twists. Contains references to blood and suicide ideation, as well as the usual character death and childhood trauma.
(For those who like music as they read, Esoteric Mantra recommends the following for OatP:
Sorcerer's Isle Base - Pheasant Room from Rusty Lake Hotel OST
Lobo's Plan Explained - Reasoning Battle ~ Introduction from The Great Ace Attorney: Adventures OST

Hypnos (A slightly chill Icebound return) by Esoteric Mantra

Tumblr link, AO3 backup link
Esoteric Mantra's Tumblr: esoteric-mantra-stuff

Probably a sequel to Orion and the Pleiades. Hard to summarise without spoilers, but it gives a nice little peek at Lobo's siblings, and the ending has some really interesting implications for Lobo's future. Beyond the usual warnings common to Icebound, there's nothing to warn for.
(For those who like music as they read, Esoteric Mantra recommends the following for Hypnos:
Lobo Playing the Lute - The Lachrimae Pavan by John Dowland (lute by Brandon Acker)

Adonis (A middling Icebound return) by Esoteric Mantra

Tumblr link, AO3 backup link
Esoteric Mantra's Tumblr: esoteric-mantra-stuff

A sequel to Hypnos, in which Lobo and the Twonished infiltrate Raya Lucaria. Some interesting development for various characters, and Lobo and the Twonished end up with an unexpected new lead. Warnings for blood, brief eye trauma and talk of emotional baggage.
EM welcomes any music suggestions for this one.

Sisyphus and Tantalus (A sickly Icebound Return) by Esoteric Mantra

Tumblr link, AO3 backup link
Esoteric Mantra's Tumblr: esoteric-mantra-stuff

A sequel to Adonis. Lobo and the Twonished's journey takes them through Caelid, where they have been sent to meet with a certain bestial clergyman. Some lovely moments for Lobo and the Twonished's relationship, and some surprising but delightful snippets of Lobo's life in Medía with his siblings. The usual Icebound warnings for parental death and childhood trauma apply.
EM welcomes any music suggestions, and recommends the following:
Theme for a Train in Medía - The Molentary Express from Professor Layton and the Diabolical Box OST

Olympus (A rematched Icebound Return) by Esoteric Mantra

Tumblr link, AO3 backup link
Esoteric Mantra's Tumblr: esoteric-mantra-stuff

A sequel to Sisyphus and Tantalus. Lobo and the Twonished reach the capital of Leyndell, and more than one unwelcome face from the past is back. The mystery of who the Twonished really is deepens. The plot is getting even juicier, and it's always nice to see Lobo and the Twonished go into combat together. Warnings for description of curses and non-gory violence.
EM welcomes any music suggestions.

Hephaestus (A gossipy Icebound Return) by Esoteric Mantra

Tumblr link, AO3 backup link
Esoteric Mantra's Tumblr: esoteric-mantra-stuff

A sequel to Olympus. Lobo and the Twonished get a slightly unexpected ally in their new mission. One of my favourite chapters just for the wholesomeness. No warnings beyond references to the themes generally associated with this series.
EM welcomes any music suggestions.

Uranos and Nyx (A cosmic Icebound Return) by Esoteric Mantra

Tumblr link, AO3 backup link
Esoteric Mantra's Tumblr: esoteric-mantra-stuff

A sequel to Hephaestus. Lobo and the Twonished set out on their mission, but the truth of the Twonished's identity and Lobo's potential fate becomes a little clearer. Pieces of the bigger picture are finally falling into place, and it's very satisfying to start to be able to see where things might be headed. Combat-related violence including brief reference to decapitation, and also there is Astel.
EM welcomes any music suggestions, and recommends the following:
Theme for Wandering in the Lake of Rot - Deep Thoughts by ofSoft

Delphi (A prophetic Icebound Return) by Esoteric Mantra

Tumblr link, AO3 backup link
Esoteric Mantra's Tumblr: esoteric-mantra-stuff

A sequel to Uranos and Nyx. Lobo and the Twonished head for the Mountaintops of the Giants, while the Twonished wonders how much of what she's learnt about herself to share with Lobo. Some soft and tender moments to be had, but also a slow and ominous build towards what will feels like it'll be an explosive next chapter. Warnings for implied sex and reference to wide-scale death.
EM welcomes any music suggestions, and recommends the following:
Theme for a Lonely Walk in the Mountains - Je te laisserai des mots by Patrick Watson

Thanatos (The final Icebound return) by Esoteric Mantra

Tumblr link, AO3 backup link
Esoteric Mantra's Tumblr: esoteric-mantra-stuff

A sequel to Delphi. The Twonished continues through the Mountaintops of the Giants, and the final fateful meeting with Lobo occurs. The latter part of this part hit pretty hard. Warnings for: discussion of martyrdom/self-sacrifice, eye trauma in a major character, and canon-typical combat-related violence which includes an enemy's loss of limb.
EM welcomes any music suggestions and recommends the following, which was suggested by Sadness:
Theme for Lobo's Determination - 12 Steps Apart by Prisoner

Castor (a Maiden of the Stars beginning) by Esoteric Mantra

Tumblr link, AO3 backup link
Esoteric Mantra's Tumblr: esoteric-mantra-stuff

One of two branches to Thanatos. I don't want to spoil it because it's reader choice, but either Lobo or the Twonished must accept the Flames of Ruin. Warning for major character death.

Pollux (a Champion of Embers beginning) by Esoteric Mantra

Tumblr link, AO3 backup link
Esoteric Mantra's Tumblr: esoteric-mantra-stuff

One of two branches to Thanatos. I don't want to spoil it because it's reader choice, but either Lobo or the Twonished must accept the Flames of Ruin. No warnings given.

Apollo and Artemis (A Maiden of the Stars continuation) by Esoteric Mantra

Tumblr link, AO3 backup link
Esoteric Mantra's Tumblr: esoteric-mantra-stuff

A sequel to Thanatos' Castor ending. Lobo continues to Farum Azula, where a familiar and not always welcome face reappears. Much as things are revealed in this part, there's a sense that there's still plenty of action to go and more secrets to be uncovered. Poor Lobo is also not in a good place emotionally after the events of Castor. Plenty of warnings for this part: blood, references to (unintentional) self-harm, mentions of parental and major character death, and general body horror relating to demi-humans.

Ariadne and Asterius (A Champion of Embers continuation) by Esoteric Mantra

Tumblr link, AO3 backup link
Esoteric Mantra's Tumblr: esoteric-mantra-stuff

A sequel to Thanatos' Pollux ending. The Twonished continues to Farum Azula, where she meets some unexpected (but previously referenced) allies. The new characters are a long-awaited delight and I'm looking forward to seeing more of their journey with the Twonished. Warnings for discussions of martyrdom and self-sacrifice as well as depictions of corpses, including mutilation.

Orpheus and Eurydice (A Maiden of the Stars Finale) by Esoteric Mantra

Tumblr link, AO3 backup link
Esoteric Mantra's Tumblr: esoteric-mantra-stuff

A sequel to Apollo and Artemis, part of the Maiden of the Stars branch. Lobo continues through Farum Azula for a face-off with Maliketh. On the sad and bittersweet side, as is typical for this branch. Warnings for mourning death and mild eye horror.

Heracles and Prometheus (A Champion of Embers Finale) by Esoteric Mantra

Tumblr link, AO3 backup link
Esoteric Mantra's Tumblr: esoteric-mantra-stuff

A sequel to Ariadne and Asterius, part of the Champion of Embers branch. A fittingly epic finale, with fabulous combat and one of my favourite scenes in the whole series. Warnings for blood, dismemberment, eye horror involving fire, and reference to major character death.

Hyperion (a Champion of Embers epilogue) by Esoteric Mantra

Tumblr link, AO3 backup link
Esoteric Mantra's Tumblr: esoteric-mantra-stuff

A sequel/epilogue to Heracles and Prometheus, and (for now) the final part of the Champion of Embers branch. One last chance for Ranni to get up to her shenanigans before the Age of the Stars finally dawns. It's also great to see Lobo living comfortably with his prosthetics. A cosy and warm end for what has been a dramatic, action-filled tale that Esoteric Mantra deserves so much praise for. Warning for mild eye horror involving glass eye removal/insertion.

Erebus (a Maiden of the Stars Epilogue) by Esoteric Mantra

Tumblr link, AO3 backup link
Esoteric Mantra's Tumblr: esoteric-mantra-stuff

A sequel/epilogue to Orpheus and Eurydice, and (for now) the final part of the Maiden of the Stars branch. Ranni wanted the Age of Stars at any cost, and now the price has been paid. Short but packs a bittersweet punch to the gut. Warning for reference to death and mourning.
Erebus was partially inspired by Me and My Husband by Mitski

Iulius and Augustus (A Starry Night Story) by Esoteric Mantra

Tumblr link, AO3 backup link
Esoteric Mantra's Tumblr: esoteric-mantra-stuff

The start of an alternative branch to Icebound Returns, set approximately two to three years after the epilogue of Age of Icebound Stars. Ranni comes up with an alternative plan to bring about the Age of Stars, but carrying it out leads Blaidd to question whether he made the right choice all those years ago and whether there's still time to make amends. Very cute, but plenty of emotionally painful moments. Warning for reference to child abduction and events from The Age of Icebound Stars.

Pax Romana (a Starry Night new beginning) by Esoteric Mantra

Tumblr link, AO3 backup link
Esoteric Mantra's Tumblr: esoteric-mantra-stuff

A sequel to Iulius and Augustus. Ranni's plan comes to fruition but Blaidd's actions haven't gone unnoticed and, unbeknownst to him, he has a pursuer. Warnings for blood, graphic neck injury, major character death and anything relating to Age of Icebound Stars.

Virgil and Beatrice (A Starry Night Epilogue) by Esoteric Mantra

Tumblr link, AO3 backup link
Esoteric Mantra's Tumblr: esoteric-mantra-stuff

A sequel to Pax Romana. Following the aftermath of Ranni's scheme, Blaidd begins to heal in more ways than one, but it seems that not all questions have been answered yet. Full of cute, silly moments. Warnings for farting and anything relating to Age of Icebound Stars.

Mercurius Trismagistus (A Starry Night tale) by Esoteric Mantra

Tumblr link, AO3 backup link
Esoteric Mantra's Tumblr: esoteric-mantra-stuff

A sequel to Virgil and Beatrice, set an unspecified (but probably quite short) time afterwards. Aster, Viola and Briar are still getting used to a new addition to their camp. A sweet story from a hitherto-unused perspective. No real warnings apply other than any references to Age of Icebound Stars.

Themis and Mnemosyne (a Champion of Embers Sequel-Prequel thing) by Esoteric Mantra

Tumblr link, AO3 backup link
Esoteric Mantra's Tumblr: esoteric-mantra-stuff

Themis and Mnemosyne starts off as a prequel to Nemesis, and ends as a sequel to Hyperion (Champion of Embers branch). Snippets of life from Briar's perspective, filling in some of the gaps in the siblings' history. One of my personal favourites of Esoteric Mantra's works, with a very soft and tender sadness. One instance of ableism and fantasy racism applied to Lobo, and reference to Age of Icebound Stars.

Somin Shōrai (a post AoCN one-shot) by Esoteric Mantra

AO3 comment link
Esoteric Mantra's Tumblr: esoteric-mantra-stuff

A drabble set maybe about 10 years after The Age of the Chill Night. The Tarnished struggles with the rules of etiquette after becoming Elden Lord, and a mortified Nerys (AoCN's equivalent of Viola/Dahlia) comes up with a way to 'improve' the whole family. Cute and funny, and shows each of the pups at peak gremlin energy. No warnings apply.

Valhalla (A non canon to anything story for funsies) by Esoteric Mantra

AO3 comment link
Esoteric Mantra's Tumblr: esoteric-mantra-stuff

A fun, non-canon drabble that combines the various timelines into a happy ending. Written as a birthday gift for Amber/SomeLurkerDude. Contains various OCs such Faolán, Lýkos (belonging to Amber), Aisling and Eoghan (belonging to Thorn), and briefly Lobo (belonging to Esoteric Mantra).

A Pack of Wolves

This is exquisite - knightlileep did an incredible job capturing Faolán's personality and his comparative daintiness. Absolutely a pretty boy. It would have been so easy to accidentally make a Blaidd recolour, but so much effort has gone into giving him his own distinct features and appearance.

This section is for works that were inspired by the Unmaidenly Conduct series but, as far as I know, are not connected in other way (e.g. by taking place in the same universe/timelines). They're still part of the family, but they're cousins rather than siblings.

Without Light, a Shadow cast still by SomeLurkerDude

This fic follows the adventures of Lýkos, a Shadow exiled to the Badlands as an infant after her Empyrean is murdered. She returns to the Lands Between as a Tarnished, and her arrival catches the attention of potential friends and foes alike. Much darker than Unmaidenly Conduct (expect frequent gore and death from the current chapters, and the tags suggest that this will get even darker), but Lýkos puts a unique spin on the usual Tarnished's journey through the Lands Between.

(If you enjoy Lýkos, you may also enjoy a oneshot fanfic of WLASSC I wrote for Amber's birthday: No Light But Moonlight.)

I've also drawn a few pieces every now and then, so I'm putting them here as well to keep them all in one place.

Faolán

Eoghan (character belongs to Thorn)

Blaidd

Lobo, Dahlia and Valerio headcanon designs (characters belong/shared with Esoteric Mantra)

This section may be a constant WIP, but it'll be for fan content from the comments, since there's some great stuff in there.

Builds

Note: The Lobo and Twonished build links are more about what items they have equipped, while the Tarnished and Faolán ones touch more on gameplay/combat style. The Blaidd link only really talks about attributes.

• Tarnished (equipment, attributes, more detailed build/level info) I realised that the Tarnished must also have a Hand Axe for firewood, so the ultra-rare Axe-wielding variant is also valid. There is a 1 in 4069 chance of encountering an Axe!Tarnished.
• Blaidd
• Faolán

• Lobo
• Twonished

Item Descriptions

Feel free to make item descriptions even if someone else has already made one for the same item. The Red Wolf Greatbow has at least two possible Weapon Skills, after all.

Tarnished:

• Old Hunting Dagger

Faolán:

Armour:

• Red Wolf Mask (Faolán equivalent of Black Wolf Mask)
• Faolán's unnamed chest armour
• Crown of the Autumn King
• Cloak of the Autumn King

Weapons and Shields:

• Red Wolf Greatbow with Red Wolf Greatarrow and the following possible Weapon Skills:
  • Spite Shot (joke)
  • Glintsone sorcery
  • healing/protective magic for consecutive hits

Items:

• Lyre
• Staff of the Autumn King

Lobo:

Armour:

• Lobo's chest piece/unnamed chest armour, Median Elite Vanguard Armor
• Brass Armour (post-Champion of Embers, also accurate for unnamed crossover drabble)
• Atagenos Prosthetic (post-Champion of Embers, also accurate for unnamed crossover drabble)

Weapons and Shields:

• Lone Wolf Greatsword (old description, newer description - contains spoilers for Icebound series)
• Royal Longsword
• Possible Weapon Skills (Dance of the Snow Wolf, and Pride of Medía)
• Spirit Tree Crest Shield
• Aster's Longsword (post-Champion of Embers, also accurate for unnamed crossover drabble)
  • Ash of War: Dance of the Snow Wolf (Variation) (weapon skill for Aster's Longsword)

Viola:

• Rose Ballroom Gown

Briar:

Armour:

• Medían Captain's Armor

Weapons and Shields:

• Medían War Axe
  • Ash of War: Vow of Silence (weapon skill for Medían War Axe)
• Captain's Greatshield

Eoghan:

• Nightward Gauntlets
• Ash of War: Eoghan's Quickstep

Esoteric Mantra's Icebound Returns

• The thread that became a prototype version of Nemesis - very early Lobo stuff
• Some early sibling and childhood stuff
• Early Medía stuff
• Sibling propensity for hare-brained schemes
• Sibling fondness for formal occasions
• Medían medicine and politics/society
• Lobo vs. Eoghan (combat stuff)
• Siblings' Pokemon teams
• Medía's relationship/history with the Lands Between, Medían fashion and aesthetic, the Silver Tree, and pyromancy

Crossovers with other franchises

• UC-based Tarot (Persona 4, but works as a standalone Tarot deck) (original, update)
• Pokémon teams
• UC-based Rhythm Heaven Remix

Other

• The NG+ Tarnished Theory (1, 2)
• Wulf Scent Chart™️ (original, update - Thandarin's scent may or may not be outdated)
• Character-musical instrument correlations (an updated version can be found at the bottom of the Playlist chapter)
• Characters as Clickhole articles (Tarnished, Blaidd, Ranni, Iji and Seluvis, Faolán, Eoghan, Aisling, Lobo, Twonished, Dahlia/Viola and Valerio/Briar)
• Character voice headcanons:
  • Speaking: Tarnished, Faolán, merchant, Twonished, Lobo/Aster/Bryn, Valerio/Briar/Meredydd, Dahlia/Viola/Nerys
  • Singing: Tarnished, Lobo, Valerio/Briar (also Faolán dancing) - the Playlist also contains singing headcanons for Faolán, Aisling and Eoghan under Character Themes.
• Characters as flowers (Tarnished, Faolán, Blaidd, Ranni, Twonished, Lobo, Valerio/Briar, Dahlia/Viola, Eoghan, Aisling; Valerio/Briar part 2; Lýkos, Thandarin)
• Date nights (Blaidd/Tarnished, Faolán/Tarnished, Blaidd/Tarnished/Faolán part 1, Blaidd/Tarnished/Faolán part 2, Lobo/Twonished)
• Paired/group Halloween costumes (Blaidd/Tarnished/Faolán; Halloween 2023 edition (Blaidd/Tarnished, Faolán/Tarnished, Blaidd/Tarnished/Faolán, Lobo/Twonished, Aisling/Eoghan)
• Partnered combat headcanons (characters are listed alphabetically - listing in links will not be in same order):
  • Blaidd/Faolán, Blaidd/Lobo, Briar/Lobo, Briar/Viola, Faolán/Tarnished, Lobo/Tarnished, Lobo/Viola
  • Aisling/Blaidd, Aisling/Eoghan, Aisling/Faolán, Aisling/Tarnished, Blaidd/Eoghan, Eoghan/Faolán, Eoghan/Tarnished; Aisling/Lobo, Eoghan/Lobo (Thorn)
  • Aisling/Blaidd, Aisling/Briar, Aisling/Eoghan, Aisling/Faolán, Aisling/Lobo, Aisling/Tarnished, Aisling/Viola, Eoghan/Blaidd, Eoghan/Briar, Eoghan/Faolán, Eoghan/Lobo, Eoghan/Tarnished, Eoghan/Viola
  • Ranni/Blaidd, Ranni/Faolán, Ranni/Lobo, Ranni/Tarnished, Twonished/Briar, Twonished/Lobo, Twonished/Viola (Esoteric Mantra)

Much as I love the joke playlist, many of its contents aren't songs. All non-song entries, such as meme videos, have been removed from the joke playlist and put here for safekeeping.

Character Themes

Unmaidenly Conduct and Related

• Approximate Size of Blaidd's Dumptruck Ass - “I will roast you but my mom said I am not allowed to burn trash” by Pen (suggested by Sadness)
• Ranni and Seluvis Pretty Much Every Day - Me showing my math's teacher where he'll end up if he continues to mix numbers and letters by rob8601 (suggested by Sadness) (TikTok link, contains Jiafei)
• Seluvis - Reverb Fart Sound Effect by Darknos (suggested by Sadness)
• Seluvis When Anyone - Stan Twitter:@rosalia chewing cvm while mugging you! by ManiacoMalparido (suggested by Sadness)
• So-Called Genius Sorcerers When They Hear a Random Bell (Wolf Reborn) - Jessie's CupcakKe dance by Shadow_Blaze :3 (suggested by Sadness) (NSFW audio)
• Tarnished Getting Ready to Say the Meanest Possible Things about Ranni once Blaidd is Free from the Two Fingers (Wolf Reborn) - Stan Twitter: @ArianaGrande posing to Prada before all the Black fishing and Asian fishing 💅 by Maniaco Malparido (suggested by Sadness)
• Tarnished to Ranni while Blaidd is Away (Wolf Reborn) (Wolf Reborn) - stan twitter: Chinese girl putting you in ur place by stantwitterflop1325 (suggested by Sadness); Dear dumb-ass, every thought in your mind is dumb | stan twitter | Beyoncé by johnny (suicide mention) (suggested by Sadness)
• The Tarnished When Someone Asks Why She Doesn't Fight Alongside Ranni - New York: “Pretty much I would let Gemma know …” by Poppi 💅🏽 (suggested by Sadness) (NSFW audio)

The Age of Icebound Stars

• Ranni Going Outside After Casually Ruining the Lives of Most of Anyone Living in the Lands Between (also applies to AoCN and APoW) - everything is so much funnier at school tho 😭 by purplelota9352 (suggested by Sadness)

Icebound Returns and Starry Night by Esoteric Mantra

• Passing Through the Rainbow Means You Love Your Brother: Ranni Edition (Iulius and Augustus) - Stan Twitter: Cutie mugs the pride rainbow and goes to a different direction 🚫🌈 by ManiacoMalparido (suggested by Sadness)
• What's Gonna Happen to Blaidd once the Tarnished Figures Out it was Him who Kidnapped Aster (Iulius and Augustus) - Stan twitter: compilation of ur faves beating up Wanda by liammoore9560 (suggested by Sadness)
• The Tarnished when Lobo is just Randomly Creeping Around her Universe (Pax Romana) - Stan Twitter: Jamie Lee Curtis looking back at Michael Myers in the woods by I have to laugh (suggested by Sadness)
• Ranni when the Tarnished Shows Up in her Room (Pax Romana) - Um excuse me what the actual f*ck are you doing in my house🎅🏻🤨 by Yoboirevenant (suggested by Sadness)
• Briar and Viola When They Don't Get to Be a Part of the 'Starry Night' Branch - stan twitter: two dogs looking at eachother dissapointed sad SpongeBob music by Zin's meme palace (suggested by Sadness)
• Iji and the Siblings When Ranni Finally Leaves and All This Nonsense is Over - Peppa dancing to gasolina extended by cecishowysusamigos (suggested by Sadness)
• Knight at Raya Lucaria Bored While Waiting for Someone to Show Up (Adonis) - KATRINA KATRINA by tateboiluke (suggested by Sadness)
• Lobo's Normal Speaking Voice - penn says I love you dog by teeheebomb (vid includes a startled/scared dog) (suggested by Sadness)
• Lobo When Everyone Tells Him He Looks Like Blaidd - me if it was illegal to dislike someone because they have the same name as me by diorscentedpussy (TikTok link) (suggested by Sadness)
• Lobo on his Way to Caria Manor after Killing Blaidd - Woodcock Rumba by greatheart3888
• Lobo Seeing an Unmurdered Wolf (RIP Madramór) (Adonis) - Stan twitter: girl smiling while roblox horror music plays by Ethan (suggested by Sadness)
• Ranni at Any Point During the Day When No One is Watching - Stan Twitter: woman evil laughing by bulgari (suggested by Sadness)
• Ranni Waiting for Lobo to Stop Crying so She Can Bother Him Again - “………. Hi everybody” women taking saying hi everybody floptok by GraceG69 (suggested by Sadness)
• Seluvis in Hell Seeing Ranni's Plan Fall Apart Because of Her Own Actions - stan twitter: old guy serving by eliana65099 (suggested by Sadness)
• The Twonished After Being Called "Maiden" by the Fingers - Stan twitter: shocked by bmag3059 (suggested by Sadness)
• The Twonished Coming Back To Life (post-Castor) - Stan Twitter: Keke Palmer saying they thought I was dead. by CompilationMaker (suggested by Sadness)
• Viola After Briar Says Anything - ariana grande laughing meme by theweekndsleftnut (suggested by Sadness)
• Everyone Seeing Ranni Feel Lonely and Unhappy - Should she suffer? Alright, clap if you think she should suffer. by mipuri (suggested by Sadness)
• Viola While Everyone Else Is Fighting For Their Lives - Stan Twitter: Woman Emoji dancing by AlexsNoodles (suggested by Sadness) (NSFW lyrics)

A Pack of Wolves

• Tarnished and Faolán Falling at the Chapel of Anticipation (Chapter 6) - Lois falling to God is a Woman by Ariana Grande by Nickeyl's Stuff (suggested by Sadness)
• Blaidd and Faolán Arguing over Ownership of the Shared OnlyDwts/OnlyWolves/OnlyEmpyreans Account - Clip from Kriegerisms P1 (video includes NSFW audio and a lack of shirts, link goes to a video hosted on WordPress)
• Tarnished Serenading Blaidd and/or Faolán - Love On Top vine by Matt King
• Faolán Serenading the Tarnished - Gjon's Tears lip-syncing to Love on Top by Beyoncé (feat. hairdryer)
• Eoghan - Club Jam vine by Bo Burnham (NSFW lyrics)
• Faolán Casually Showing Up to Meet Ranni and Save Blaidd's life - guy in a suit edit meme |stan twitter by eggthegarden (suggested by Sadness)
• Faolán Randomly at Any Point Throughout the Day Pretending to Have Been Cheated On - stan twitter: Trisha Paytas burning "i love you" paper while traitor by Olivia Rodrigo plays by benzla7930 (suggested by Sadness)
• Faolán After Solving 'X + 4 = 7' 0.007 Seconds Earlier Than Blaidd - Scott the woz - you do math like a bitch by joeph the slayer (suggested by Sadness) (mildly NSFW audio)
• Live footage of Faolán singing at Christmas - Stan Twitter: Camila Cabello "I'll be home for quismois" by no one asked 💅 (suggested by Sadness, substituted video as original unavailable)
• Blaidd and Faolán (currently unnamed topping drabble) - Stan Twitter: Top telling power bottom that his little puthy belongs to him! 😈 (Fake, not real) by ManiacoMalparido (suggested by Sadness) (NSFW audio)
• Faolán Lore - This is Black Diamond (Dramatic OC Infodump) by Cheesey (suggested by Sadness) (NSFW audio, glitching)

Multiverse crossovers

• Faolán Counting All the Ways in which He Would Never Have Failed the Tarnished like Blaidd Did (Pax Romana) - Stan Twitter: another one thank you by zinakrytaya (suggested by Sadness)
• Lobo Getting Ready to Say the Meanest Possible Things about Ranni once Blaidd is Free from the Two Fingers - justin bieber basketball meme by jjuenx (suggested by Sadness)

Battle BGM

Icebound Returns series by Esoteric Mantra

• Lobo vs. Blaidd in a Nutshell (Nemesis) - sims cat breakdancing but the drop is synced by Feyrir (suggested by Sadness)

Event BGM

Unmaidenly Conduct and Related

• Everyone Seeing the Grafted Scion (Wolf Reborn) - lady gaga WTF ! by OhDearKesha (suggested by Sadness) (NSFW due to F word)
• What Ranni Hears while Blaidd and the Tarnished Sleep in his Room (Wolf Reborn) - Stan Twitter: Twerking barbie by amanekinmemes6243 (suggested by Sadness) (EXTREMELY explicit NSFW audio)

Icebound Returns and Starry Night series by Esoteric Mantra

• POV: The Tarnished Waking Up in the Night (Virgil and Beatrice) - Spiderman farts on Zendaya by spikel2 (suggested by Sadness)
• Blaidd upon Realizing that He Was the Stinker Smelly Wolf All Along (Virgil and Beatrice) - Stan Twitter: Beyoncé staring while Don’t plays by colin2590 (suggested by Sadness)
• Lobo and the Tarnished Making Eye Contact (Virgil and Beatrice) - stan twitter: spongebob characters looking disgusted while formation by beyonce plays by bees.3436 (suggested by Sadness)
• Briar Finding a Book of Kites Instead of Therapy (Themis and Mnemosyne) - Stan Twitter: WHERE HAVE YOU BEEEEEEEN!!!??? ALL MY LIFEEEEEEE!!! by Alex Hernandez (suggested by Sadness) (Warning: loud)
• Future Lobo Talking about Growing Up Poor (He Only Lived Like That For Maybe a Year) (Themis and Mnemosyne) - Not a white refrigerator by TeaTea (suggested by Sadness)
• The Tarnished In The Afterlife While Her Children Are Becoming Incredibly Troubled (Themis and Mnemosyne) - doing the club penguin dance by Jaynautic (suggested by Sadness)
• Ranni Not Noticing the Twonished Getting Barbecued - Stan Twitter: Trisha Paytas serving Regina George while there’s a fire in the background by colin2590 (suggested by Sadness)
• Ranni giving Lobo a hug (Hyperion) - Stan twitter: nicki Minaj and a child hugging each other by liammoore9560 (suggested by Sadness)
• Ranni Falling Into the Flames of Ruin (Good Ending) - Stan Twitter: girl falling into volcano (THIS IS EDITED NOT REAL) by deasgusting (suggested by Sadness)
• POV: You're the Greater Will Looking at Lobo and Ranni - let's destroy them ratatata by ❁․ғʟᴏᴡᴇʀs (suggested by Sadness)
• Live Footage of a Conversation Between Briar and Viola - Stan twitter: "You were born dumb. You'll grow up dumb and you will die dumb." by Glitter Jeed (suggested by Sadness)
• Ranni as the New Goddess - I CANT STOP LAUGHING AT THIS OMG by jayetoh5 (TikTok link) (suggested by Sadness)
• Lobo Using All the Tools in his Arm - TW: Aesthetic products 💅 by aestheticum9635 (TikTok link) (suggested by Sadness)
• Aster Convincing Viola to Come Play Cards (Mercurius Trismagistus) - Ace attorney: Turnabout Uno [Fixed] by Dogepenguin (suggested by Sadness) (loud and somewhat NSFW audio due to language, including one slur)
• Viola, Internally, When Blaidd Comes To Sit Next To Her (Mercurius Trismagistus) - Stan twitter: Taylor Swift cussing (complete version) by CandyCane (suggested by Sadness) (NSFW audio due to language)
• How the Tarnished Thought the Kids Would React to Having their Estranged Father who Kidnapped One of Them Come Live with Them after Explaining Nothing of the Situation (Mercurius Trismagistus) - Slay | Elsa Dancing by Love_Bugz (suggested by Sadness)

A Pack of Wolves and related

• Faolán Catching Blaidd and the Tarnished Before Shooting At Them (APoW, Chapter 7) - Stan Twitter: Emoji slowly turning by pee (suggested by Sadness); I Won't Hesitate Bitch vine by its just luke
• Tarnished Watching Blaidd and Faolán Argue (APoW, a whole bunch of chapters lbr) - Two girls having a dance battle to Katy Perry (vine) (suggested by She is me, I am her)

Chapter Text

You had once thought that all there was to becoming Elden Lord was laying claim to the Elden Ring. How wrong you were. You had done it - after all these years of fantasising, years of blood and sweat and countless deaths, you had attained your childhood dream - but that was only the beginning. While you were now the ruler of the Lands Between, you would not formally become the Elden Lord until you were coronated. And apparently, if you wanted to be coronated, you needed clothes worthy of a monarch.

"Ugh...!"

You flopped through the curtains and landed on top of the bed. Blaidd stared at you. Thank goodness that he was lying on his side, slightly curled, so you landed in the space left by the curve of his body rather than headbutting him in the stomach. He reached across and straightened the dishevelled bed-curtain before curling around you. You nestled gratefully into his warmth.

"Long day, Ma'am?"
"I've had days where I died that have been less stressful than this."
The half-wolf chuckled under his breath.
"Your greatest sacrifices to attain the Lordship are behind you. The Lands Between demand you struggle only a little longer until you are crowned." He planted a kiss in your hair. "After that, the real trials can begin."
"They can come at me right now. I'll take whatever the gods want to throw my way, as long as I don't have to commission a whole bloody outfit for it!"
"You need something more suitable for a coronation. We both do."
"The Elden Ring didn't care what I wore when I mended it," you retorted. "Yet if I'm crowned in the same garb, the Lands Between will apparently pitch a fit."

Okay, even you knew that your usual clothing was too scruffy. You'd spent your adventures in nothing finer than stained wool, scuffed leather, and armour you scavenged from the dead. The knees of your trousers were layered in patches, and darning dotted your shirt. Your gear was worn yet sturdy, and it had served you well on your journey, but it wasn't suitable to claim Lordship of the Lands Between in.

"As I've told you before, Ma'am, it's all a game of appearances, but it's one you must play. You cannot attend to affairs of state or oversee ceremonies looking like a bandit who lacks two Runes to rub together. If you don't exude power and authority, then not only will your own people hold you in contempt, but neighbouring countries will see you as a weak leader."

If it had been up to you, you might have risked a bit of contempt for the sake of your comfort. Inviting armies to come and invade the Lands Between, however, was a whole other matter. This country had been through too much already for too long. You would not be the one to heap even more unnecessary suffering over it. If it took a few ells of ermine and silk to stave off war, then you would tolerate it.

"It's all right for you, Blaidd. You've already been part of this world."
Sometimes it was too easy to forget that this giant of a half-wolf whose battle-scarred, threadbare fur you snuggled into was an adopted son of the Carian royal family. He knew far more about the upper echelons of society than you did, and the rules by which they lived. The first time you'd seen his clothing under his armour, you'd been amazed at the quality of it. Even so, time had not stood still for him either. His garments were still beautiful, but the pitch black of his shirt and trousers had faded to a smoky grey, the silken embroidery had pulled in a few places, and frankly it looked rather dated by now. He needed something more fashionable.

"You know these kinds of things already," you continued. "All these materials that I've never even heard of, let alone touched. Like chaisel. That mercer kept saying 'chaisel' like I should know what it is. What the hell is chaisel?"
"It's a fine linen. I chose some for my shirt."
"See? You know so much more than me!"
You pressed your back against him and wriggled even deeper into his fur, drawing his arm around yourself. After years of nothing but bedrolls and rolled-up blankets separating you from the earth, not to mention the straw-stuffed bed of your childhood, you weren't used to the luxury of cushions or a feather mattress. If you were honest, it was a bit too soft for you. Some nights you still slept on top of Blaidd. Luckily for you, he didn't mind that in the least.
"I'd be screwed if I had to stumble my way through this by myself. I'd have had no idea what fabrics were for what clothing."
"There's no shame in asking the mercer for advice. Often they enjoy preaching the virtues of their cloth."
"Still not convinced they're not ripping us off."
"They always -"
"I know what you said, that they always recommend more fabric than you need. I'm just saying, someone who tries to tell me that a sleeveless surcoat takes the same number of ells as one with sleeves reaching the ground, they're probably full of shit."

When the mercer had first told you how much silk your surcoat needed and how much it would cost, you'd balked. Your experience of mending your own clothes, limited as it was, told you that a surcoat shouldn't take that much fabric! You'd suggested shortening the sleeves to your elbows, and even omitting the sleeves entirely, yet somehow that didn't decrease the amount of material - or the price - at all.

"I told you, Ma'am," Blaidd replied, "the more fabric there is to your clothing, the wealthier you look. The wealthier you look, the more powerful you seem. I promise you, I would warn you if any merchant was trying to pull the wool over your eyes."
"Or the chaisel?" you quipped. The half-wolf sighed, smiling despite himself. "I could always leave out the surcoat and just wear the kirtle."
When you'd suggested that before, Blaidd and the merchant had stared at you as if you'd just suggested being coronated naked, or perhaps decapitating yourself as soon as the crown touched your head. Now, though, Blaidd simply took a gentle nip at your cheek with the tips of his fangs.
"You are not taking the crown in only a kirtle. A kirtle and surcoat are the bare minimum. We already talked about this, if you remember."
"I know, I know."
You tilted your head back so you could gaze at the face you adored, that shabby and scarred face with eyes that glowed as gently as any star. At least you weren’t going through all this alone. Who could you possibly want by your side more than the man who’d been by your side throughout your journey, your best friend and love, and the father of your children?
"Thanks for all your help, future Lord Consort. I appreciate it."
"My pleasure, future Lord."
"At least someone got some pleasure out of it." A little snort of laughter escaped you. "Today's been hell."

Choosing your fabrics wasn't the end of it. No, you had to choose dyes too, and that was hardly less complicated than navigating all the materials. There were classes of colour just like there were classes of fabrics. Your plan had been to go for neutral tones. Plain colours shouldn't take much dye, and therefore shouldn't add too much to the bill. You'd gotten away with it for your kirtle, but not for the surcoat you'd wear over it. It'd be a disaster, the mercer assured you, for anyone to think you couldn't afford a colourful overgown. You went for purple just to get it over with. At least purple suited your skin tone, and nobody could accuse purple of not being good enough for an Elden Lord.

The suffering had not ended there either. After the mercer came the furrier and pelterer, bandying about their furs and hides. You may not have known about costly cloth, but living in the wilds had given you some knowledge of furs. Both of you needed leather and linings for your coronation garments. Blaidd's cloak had also seen better days. The fur was matted and grimy, faded by the sun, worn down to the hide in some places and right through in others. Even so, the half-wolf was too attached to seek out a replacement. Instead, he'd arranged for the furrier to clean and mend it. It would be delicate work, but worth it if it restored his beloved cloak to its glory days.
You'd eyed the fuzzy bundle with a new interest. You were almost as fond of it as Blaidd was himself. Many a night had seen you sleep under it like a blanket, or sprawled on top of it. When you had ridden to Sellia alone all that time ago, looking for a way to change Blaidd's fate, you'd felt your lover's absence so strongly that you'd pined for his cloak as a reminder of the scent and texture of his own fur. So much so that, on the spur of the moment, you commissioned a fur cape of your own. A cape of...

"...Springhare?" you muttered to yourself. Already your mouth was twisting into a smirk at the memory. "Springhare? You're sure? Springhare?"
The mattress shifted below you as Blaidd shuffled about. "Are you thinking about the furrier again?"
You nodded. "You'd think nobody had ever ordered a cloak lined with springhare fur before, the way they kept double-checking."
"They probably haven't. Not a lord, anyway."

It wasn't only the furrier that your request had taken by surprise. From the corner of your eye you'd caught the movement of Blaidd's head tilting ever so slightly to one side, the little furrow denting his brow. Unlike the furrier, however, he didn't question your taste. He understood right away why you'd chosen springhare. You had to look the part to secure your future, yet you were not going to turn your back on your past. Every commoner in the Lands Between spent the winter huddled up in springhare. It was the fur of the poor. Under the crown you were still the same lowly Tarnished you'd always been, and you would never be ashamed of that. You would not let yourself lose sight of who you were.

"I don't see any problem with it. It'll match the weasel fur on the outside; you'd practically have to be standing inside the thing to tell the difference."
"It should blend in well enough," Blaidd agreed, "but mind that you never wear it inside-out."
"Otherwise we might as well kiss the Lands Between goodbye, right?"
"Something like that."
"At least we're done with all that now." You snuggled into his chest and closed your eyes. Forget actually getting under the blankets or getting your head anywhere near the pillows - you were more than happy to simply fall asleep as you were, still dressed and wrapped up in Blaidd's arms.
You almost heard the smile in the half-wolf's voice as he answered, "No we're not."
"We're not...? Seriously?" You opened one eye to squint up at him. "What else is there? We've ordered all our materials. Nothing happens until it arrives."
"There's still the haberdasher, the silk-woman, the jeweller, the goldsmith and silversmith... Not to mention that we need to contact the mercer," he added over your sigh.
"No we don't."
"For your cloak. The fur lines a piece of cloth. You need to order more."
...Damn it, you'd forgotten that.
"Remind me never to commission clothes ever again."

You survived. You'd survived all kinds of foes to get here, and you survived the onslaught of merchants and artisans with your sanity intact and your temper only slightly frayed. But every detail, every last decorative touch from head to toe, had finally been worked out. Everything lay in the hands of those skilled enough to work with them. The royal tailors had taken your measurements, scurrying back to the workroom with handfuls of knotted strings that each carried a label such as 'ELDEN LORD - HEIGHT' or 'LORD CONSORT - LEG LENGTH'. Together with the royal seamsters, they worked their magic on transforming swathes of cloth and your measurements into coronation robes.

Yesterday was your final fitting. Your kirtle and surcoat had been brought to you, tacked along the seams so that any last adjustments could be made before they were sewn together. For all the grief they'd given you, the garments made a striking combination. Under the rich purple silk of the surcoat, your kirtle draped elegantly to the floor. Among the folds of white wool glittered golden embroidery in the shape of honeybees. Becoming Elden Lord had raised you to nobility, and so you needed a heraldic symbol. Bees represented hard work, which certainly described the trials you'd overcome in attaining the crown. This kind of finery was completely foreign to you, but at least you looked every inch a monarch - especially when you slung your cloak over the top. Your fingers sank into thick, tawny fur. When the cloak was about your shoulders, its lining hidden in shadow, it was even harder to distinguish where the weasel ended and the springhare began. The finishing touch was a brooch to hold it in place. A honeybee fashioned of gold, perched upon the silver disc of a full moon. The symbols of Blaidd's lineage and yours, joined together. You couldn't have wished for anything better. Even if you had, you weren't going through all that again.
Your clothes were probably being sewn together at this very moment. Blaidd's, on the other hand, were not. There had been some complication that had delayed his final fitting until today. You were going to... take a little peek. It wasn't your fault that your partner was handsome, was it? Besides, you wanted to know what kind of outfit he had come up with. You'd seen only samples of cloth and dyes. The vague picture you'd put together in your head surely wouldn't compare to seeing it with your own eyes. And there was, of course, the other matter that you two had discussed.

You crept along the corridor so quietly that only the barest shuffle of your footsteps reached your ears. The fitting was to take place in a private chamber. You already heard muffled voices from the other side of the door, animated chatter interspersed with the low murmurs of Blaidd's answers. Something that sounded like wood scraped against the stone floor. A bit of furniture, perhaps? You eased the door open just enough for a strip of light from the distant window to spill out into the corridor, and peeped into the room.

"Looking 'ansum, if I say so myself."
"Thank you."

There Blaidd stood before a tall, folding mirror, and beside him perched a demi-human on a stepladder. You'd recognised the voice of the apprentice tailor before you'd even opened the door. He still spoke softly, but there was something bright and strong underneath the breathy burr. The voice carried a confidence that had grown ever since you first met its owner. When you'd first encountered Boc, you'd never met someone whom life took such a delight in kicking. His fellow demi-humans had beaten and robbed him before they cast him out, and to cap it all he'd been cursed to take the form of a tree. Maybe he'd still be a tree right now, pleading for passers-by to notice his plight, if you hadn't found him and broken the spell. Boc was so thankful for even the tiniest scrap of compassion that he had devoted himself to you. He was among the first to believe you capable of becoming the Elden Lord, and referred to you as such long before you found the Elden Ring. You saw to it that his old life would forever be far behind him. Not only was he truly a royal seamster now, but you had arranged for the tailors to take him under their wing and train him in creating clothing from scratch - including your and Blaidd's coronation wear.

"I could bend down," Blaidd told him apologetically. Even with the stepladder's assistance, Blaidd towered over the demi-human like a fortress looms over a hut. "It must be easier on you."
"Oh, you mustn't bend, m'lord," Boc replied as he scuttled down the stepladder and folded it up. "If you don't stand straight, the seams will run crooked. Just give me a moment..."
He carted the stepladder around to the other side of the half-wolf and clambered back up, tugging on Blaidd's doublet to make sure it lay flat and straight. It was of a black brocade, its pattern so muted that it all but disappeared into itself. His old doublet had been similar in that regard, black upon black in the subtlest of decorations. His choice of shirt was bolder this time round, yet still tastefully done. Cloth-of-silver shimmered like moonlight from under the doublet. Everything below the waist was of black leather. The trousers that had given the tailors so much trouble - perfecting the drawstring system was what had delayed this fitting - as well as the knee-high boots with the silver embroidery tracing along the top. The deep, glossy black complemented both the sombre tone of the doublet and the lustre of the silver shirt.

"M'lord, is the drawstring comfortable? Doesn't trap your tail, does it?"
"It fits very well."
The wrinkled and slightly pinched face of the demi-human lit up with a smile of relief.
"Oh, what a relief that is! I sewed it myself, you see. Never made trousers for anyone with a tail before. Neither had most of the other tailors. A little all-overish at the prospect, to tell you the truth, but glad of the chance to polish my craft."
"I have great faith in your skills, as does our future Elden Lord, I'm sure. Isn't that right, Ma'am?"
You'd been rumbled already. Blaidd looked over his shoulder, eyes bright and his tail whisking in a brief wag at the sight of you. Boc followed his gaze and startled, but within a moment he masked his surprise with a deep bow.
"M'lord!" he called.
"Hi, Boc," you called back from the doorway. "Sounds like it's going well."
"It is, m'lord. Did you have need of Lord Consort Blaidd?" He set one foot on a lower rung, preparing to climb down the stepladder. "I'll come back later..."
"No, you can stay. I just wanted to see what his clothes looked like. Do either of you mind if I stay?"
Boc blinked, his instinct to automatically agree with you warring with whether it was proper for a woman to sit in on a man's clothes being fitted.
"I don't mind it, Ma'am. Only the overtunic is left; you're too late to see anything a lady shouldn't."
"Damn it."
Blaidd laughed, and even Boc gave an embarrassed chuckle.
"Honestly... Well, as long as m'lords are happy with it, I'll just keep on with the fitting."
"We are." You stepped into the room and closed the door behind you. "You knew I was there?"
"I heard your footfalls, as well as the door opening. And I know the sound of your breathing. Besides, if anyone was to spy on me undressing, one name springs to mind."
"Maybe if you stopped being handsome I wouldn't have to look at you so often."

Boc's gaze dropped as he gathered up the overtunic, the faintest of smiles at the corner of his mouth. To human eyes, a demi-human was a wretched little monster, a skulking cross between an ape and a rat. Hunched and stooping, with raw-looking skin and patches of fur lining each elongated limb, their eyes all but sinking into their face between a pair of pointed ears and above a stubby muzzle. The concept of beauty was something that preyed on Boc's mind. His own mother had been the only one to see beauty in him, and with her passing he had lost his own self-esteem. No other eyes looked upon him with love or kindness. He had once confessed that he felt unworthy of serving you with a face like his. Your response had been to dig a trinket out of your bag. A sculpture in the likeness of a demi-human's head that you couldn't even remember where you'd picked it up. The words 'you're beautiful' poured from the clumsily-shaped mouth whenever it was held just so. Boc's ears had pricked up at the sound, almost choking as he thanked you. In the pate he had heard the ghost of his mother's love. The little sculpture was in his possession now, so that he might recall her whenever he needed comfort.

Some also saw Blaidd as a monster, or at the very least something that could not be beautiful by human standards. He possessed the body of a wolf, after all, with a face that looked like knives had been sharpened on it. Boc had had a far worse time, of course, but Blaidd knew a little something of his pain. Still, both of them were beautiful to you. The future Lord Consort was beautiful to you inside and out; nobody could doubt that. But as you'd told Boc, he himself was full of beauty. It lived in his heart and it shone from his eyes and his smile, and it was no less lovely for being found in a demi-human. Not only was he beautiful in his own right but he created beauty as well. His way with a needle was extraordinary, and the alterations he made to your clothes during your travels were faultless. Every neat little stitch spoke of care, effort, skill, and pride taken in good workmanship. There was no wonder that his mother had spoken the truth to him.

"Your overtunic, m'lord," Boc announced as he scurried back up the stepladder. Blaidd held his arms out, helping to slip the robe over his head before letting the fabric tumble down his body to his knees. It was a little like your own surcoat, although of such an intense shade of midnight blue that you'd have thought it black without the trousers below it. Delicate embroidery edged the neck, and you stood on tiptoe for a better look. A series of metallic crescents ran along the edge, widening into a circle and then narrowing once more. Someone had sewn a border representing the phases of the moon.
"These are nice..." you murmured, running your fingers over the dainty bumps of stitches.
"Dear of you, m'lord, thank you. The hem and sleeves will match. Just as soon as we know how long the overtunic's to be."
"We've... discussed this, haven't we?" Bless him, Blaidd's cheeks were already a little pink at the admission.
"I'm told as much." Boc glanced across at you, a twinkle of laughter in his eyes as well as his voice. "One wants a long robe and the other wants short?"
"More that Blaidd can't decide on what length he wants, and I'm trying to talk him into going short. A lot of men are shortening their robes, aren't they?"

A tailor had to do more than simply cut out fabric and sew it together. Their role also required them to keep up with the latest fashions, to know how the trendsetters were wearing their necklines or waistlines or sleeves so that they might provide the same for their customers. It had been one of the tailors during an earlier fitting who'd told you of a daring new look coming in from overseas, where the gowns exposed a woman's shoulders. It had piqued your curiosity enough that you asked her to pull out the tacking at the top of your kirtle and adjust the neckline until it skimmed across your collarbone and along the front of your shoulders. The effect was... intriguing. It drew attention to the curve of your neck, the flow of bare skin into your shoulder in a way that was sensuous but not quite indecent. You liked it enough that both your kirtle and surcoat had been altered to bare your shoulders.

"You'll be the ones to set the trends, m'lord," the demi-human reminded you. "The nobles copy the monarchs, and everyone else copies the nobles. I'd rather have your garments match your tastes. No point feeling silly for the sake of dressing like everyone else, is there?"
"Good advice, but I'm trying to make a point to Blaidd."
"They are gettin' shorter," Boc conceded. "With the younger ones, for sure. The old folks still wear robes long. But of late I've seen them above the knee -"
He plucked at the hanging hem at Blaidd's knee and folded it back on itself.
"- lower thigh -"
He rolled the hem up further until it exposed the slightest curve of leather-clad thigh.
"- a little above mid-thigh -"
The curtain of midnight blue rose a little more and your eyes drank in the growing expanse of thigh.
"- and right up to the hips!"
Thankfully for Blaidd's composure, Boc did not demonstrate a hip-length hem.
"They hardly even cover the bum, those ones. You can see a bit of everything. Front and back. Oh, Mum would've laughed to see them." His voice softened at the mention of his late mother, as it so often did. "Sorry, m'lords. Not proper for a royal seamster to be crass, is it..."
"You're a friend as well as a seamster, you can get away with being more casual when it's just us." You aimed a grin at the demi-human before turning your attention back to Blaidd. "It's your decision, but personally I think you can get away with a short overtunic. You've got such shapely legs, and the short hem really flatters them."
Blaidd's ear flicked as he ruminated on his reflection. The hem was still rolled up to mid-thigh, held in place by Boc's pinching fingers. "You truly think that?"
"I do. Shame to hide them."
"Hm."

As Boc had said, not everyone was ready to display their legs so openly. Older folks wore their overgowns to the knee or even further. The more conservative types also favoured a longer hem. Most simply dressed as they pleased and got on with their lives, but a few grumbling voices made it known that they didn't approve. The merest hint that a man might have buttocks was a sign that civilisation was doomed. Blaidd had always leaned towards more modest attire, and yet you knew that he was tempted to experiment otherwise the robe's length wouldn't be giving him such trouble. Perhaps he'd grown more confident in that respect. He and Boc rolled and unrolled the hem, holding it at different heights as you watched on. Okay, maybe you gave him a thumbs-up when it went higher, but you tried not to interfere too much. At the end of the day, he would be the one wearing it.

Finally...
"This is the length. If you could shorten it to here, I'd be very grateful to you."
"Good choice. Let me pin it in place, and I'll tack it again."
Armed with a pincushion, Boc circled around the half-wolf, tucking pins into the bundled hem as if one errant scratch might kill Blaidd. The overtunic would reach his mid-thigh. Personally, you'd have taken it a few inches higher. His legs weren't much shorter than an entire human; what were a few more inches on such a vast frame? But his comfort was far more important than your ogling. It was still a flattering length on him, just enough to highlight the graceful flare of his thigh as it tapered towards his knee. And it wasn't as if you never got to see him naked anyway.

Blaidd removed the overtunic and passed it to Boc.
"Thank you, m'lord. Won't be a moment."
The seamster slipped a couple of pins out, unrolled the hem and folded it back flat under the fabric, then pinned it in place again. As he worked his way around the overtunic, you caught Blaidd's eye.
"Do you approve, Ma'am?" he whispered.
"I do. It looks really good."
"Not too long, then?"
"Nah, it really does suit you, and it's what you're comfortable with." You smiled up at him. "You're going to be the handsomest Lord Consort at our coronation."
He huffed. "I can hardly argue with that. I'll be the only one."
"And once we're officially Elden Lord and Elden Lord Consort, we can get on with Elden Lording and Elden Lord Consorting."
"And what do those entail?" His fangs peeked out in a thin smile of his own, his head tilted slightly to one side.
"I beg your pardon, m'lords," Boc interjected, "but should you talk about politics with the likes of me here? I can correct the seam elsewhere, if you like, or put a little padding in my ears."
You fought back a giggle at the thought of poor, dutiful Boc stuffing his ears full of wool.
"We're hardly talking state secrets, Boc. There's nothing I was going to say to him that I couldn't say in front of anyone else. Even if I did, I'd trust you to keep it to yourself."
The demi-human swelled with pride and offered you another bow, his arm outstretched behind him with the hand still clasping a pin, before returning to his task.

"I want to travel the Lands Between every so often. I don't want to be a leader who sits on their throne all day and has no idea what's going on beyond their own gate. Would you be up for a bit of travel, Blaidd?"
"Might be fun. As long as your Lordship is secure in your absence and your safety is assured. We need neither a coup nor an assassination. ...Ah. What of the children?"
"They can come with us. They'll probably enjoy it - the gods know they're used to being hauled all over the place."
You had fallen pregnant a little after the Festival of Combat, and your children were born during your quest. Much of their early life had been spent on the road. Trying to juggle seeking out the Elden Ring with raising triplets was no easy task, and no doubt it had delayed things. If you'd had to pick between your cubs and a few extra years on the throne, you'd pick the cubs.
"True enough. And keeping them with us keeps them safe. If there were a coup, leaving them behind might make them targets."
"There's not going to be a coup, you worrywart!"

"Beggin' your pardon again," the seamster called, "but I've tacked the hem. Ready to try it again, m'lord?"
"I'm ready."
Once more, Blaidd helped the demi-human to get the overtunic over his head. Now that the new tacking lay smoother, you had to admit that the robe was a great length on him. The hem skimmed across his mid-thigh and drew the eye to the luscious outline of his upper leg, encased in glossy leather. Such a length made his already long legs seem endless. Alright, it covered his arse and then some, but just because his arse was a gift from the gods didn't mean it had to be out. No, Blaidd and Boc had judged the overtunic well. Proper enough for a coronation, but showing those legs to their exquisite best. Blaidd still had his eyes fixed on his reflection. He examined his hips as he angled himself to one side.

"Could you do me a favour, Boc?" he asked.
"Just give me the word, m'lord."
"I wonder how it'd look if... the stitches along each side did not quite reach the bottom."
"It'd make a side vent. A small slit at each side."
Your heart almost skipped a beat at the seamster's words. Blaidd wanted to sex it up even more? The prudish elders would have had a field day if some hip-baring dandy had gone for a slit robe, but with the half-wolf's overtunic at a comparatively conservative length, he should get away with the teasing little peeks the side vents afforded.
Blaidd's smile had turned decidedly shy, but there was a glint of mischief in his eyes.
"Let's try it, eh? Only on one side, enough to see the effect."

Boc plucked at the hem and began to draw out the loose tacking stitches. As he worked, you resumed the previous conversation. Travelling the Lands Between was one thing, but...
"How would you feel about travelling further afield? Have you ever left the Lands Between?"
"Only rarely."
"We might have to do so anyway, but I wouldn't mind visiting the Land of Reeds. Or maybe I can take you to the Badlands - show you where I used to live, maybe -"
You'd almost added 'maybe meet my parents', but stopped yourself in time. Your parents had made it clear when they threw you out that they didn't want you back. Just because you'd proved them wrong and become Elden Lord, that didn't mean you were ready to be the bigger person, or that you were going to go back and play at being a happy family.
"Maybe take the kids when they're old enough," you added instead.
Blaidd gave a little laugh, although one ear drooped at your words. "Don't say that; they grow quickly enough already. I'd swear that only yesterday they were balls of fluff still learning to walk."

"There we are, m'lord." Boc slipped one last pin into the altered hem and straightened up as much as his demi-human form allowed him.
The vent was not very long; perhaps two inches at the most. When Blaidd stood there, you hardly saw the difference between each side of the overtunic. But as soon as he moved, you heard the tiniest rustle as the fabric brushed over leather and the vent parted to reveal a flash of upper thigh. Your eyes widened. There was such a subtle sexiness to it, perhaps because of how small and fleeting the peek at his hip was. It was all too easy to pass off as incidental. That hint of naughtiness to an otherwise modest garment fit Blaidd's nature well. You couldn't fight back your flustered grin.

"I take it you approve, Ma'am."
Blaidd was smirking back at you, his eyes sharp and bright.
"Definitely. You're forgiven it being too long."
"I suppose we've no choice but to keep the vents, Boc."
"Not if m'lord decrees it," Boc agreed.
Blaidd made to remove the overtunic, but you stopped him.
"Wait, how does it look with your cloak? Did you get that back?"
"Ah. Yes, let me show you. Do not trouble yourself," he added softly to Boc, who had already begun his descent of the stepladder. The half-wolf crossed to a cupboard and drew out a swathe of grey fur that felt like seeing an old friend again. The fur was thicker and softer-looking than you remembered. The furrier must have washed it. You snatched up a corner and took a hurried sniff. Mostly it bore a hint of soaps, but underneath it you thought you caught some of Blaidd's scent. It would get its smell back soon, hopefully, as it reclaimed its rightful position on Blaidd's back. There was definitely more fur to it than there had been, a more uniform thickness, but the extra patches had been added so expertly that you couldn't tell where they started or ended.

"This is amazing..." you murmured, your face still buried in the cape. "It's like new. No, better than new." 'New' would have described any cloak made to replace this one, but as he slung it over his shoulders and pinned it in place, it was clear that this was Blaidd's beloved old cloak with fresh life breathed into it. It was unique to him, and therefore priceless.
"Boc, please can you make sure that a message is sent to the furrier telling them how pleased we are with their work?"
Boc bowed. "Of course, m'lord."
"And the same goes to you tailors as well," Blaidd added, with a shy little smile as he fingered the brooch with your intertwined emblems. "See that everyone knows how much we value their efforts and skills."
"I'll be sure to. Dear of you both." The demi-human beamed up at you. Such pleasure radiated from his face that you wondered how anyone might not think him beautiful. "I'll add the side vents before we sew everything up. Then all it is is a spot of embroidery along the borders and you'll look every inch a lord."
"You'll get it all done in time, right? I know you guys are good, but the coronation's not far off."
"We're not about to rush quality, m'lord. It'll be done dreckly. One thing's for sure, you shan't miss a coronation for want of robes - you have the word of Boc the seamster on that. Do you have further need of me, or shall I take your garments back to the workshop?"
"Ah - sorry, I'll remove them." Blaidd returned the cloak to the cupboard and changed back into his usual garb. You turned your back to give him a little privacy, not least because Boc had done the same. If it had been just the two of you? You'd have watched. Knowing Blaidd, he might have put on a bit of a show for you. But no, the two of you had to behave in front of company.

"By the way, did the tailors hear back from the leatherworker?" you whispered to Boc. "The one based in the eastern outskirts of Leyndell?"
"We did," he whispered back. "They've accepted your offer, and look forward to further details of your commission."
You would not sully Boc's ears with those details. The things you wanted to commission from the leatherworker were... very different from your coronation robes. Very, very different. Clothing and accessories that would never leave the bedchamber. You knew the leatherworker had experience in such items. They'd been recommended by a merchant of your acquaintance, an elderly woman who sold adult goods and knew various artisans in a similar trade. Perhaps they had a peer who worked with metal - how long had it been since you'd first dreamt of a spreader bar large enough for Blaidd...?

Speaking of, the half-wolf had finished changing. He handed the coronation garb to Boc, who clasped the neat bundle in both arms.
"Thank you kindly, m'lords. I'll make sure these are ready for you!"
With one final bow of his head to the both of you, he scurried out of the room.

"Hard not to be fond of him," you said, half to yourself and half to Blaidd. "He's so sincere. All he wants to do is be helpful."
"Even when life's tried to give him a hiding for it."
"It's not a kind world for people like him. Too often spirits like his get crushed." You sighed. "We can change that now. We can make these lands a better place. Life's hard enough without all the obstacles set out in the name of the Greater Will, or the Golden Order, that are only there to keep people down. Boc's proof that demi-humans aren't all the violent brutes humans write them off as. And look at how Albinaurics are treated just for existing. Hell, even Omens and Misbegotten get a rough deal of it."

Blaidd nodded. It was his own shadowbound nature that had gotten you thinking about the matter. The Two Fingers had tried to tear his soul out of him because Ranni had stood against them. His transformation into a murderous beast was not punishment for anything that he himself had done - it was his own misfortune to be created a shadow that had almost sealed his fate. The more you thought about it, the more you realised just how many there were in the Lands Between who struggled under a similar yoke. Beings who were subjugated because of what they were, not who they were.

"It is an admirable goal, but not everyone is like Boc," Blaidd added quietly. "Do not forget Mohg."
"Okay, there are evil Omens, and evil demi-humans, and evil members of every group, but we can't keep going on like this. It's just a cycle of violence. We oppress them, they fight back, so we oppress them harder, so they fight back harder, so we oppress them even harder. It doesn't help anyone. It probably makes things worse."
"I'm in agreement with you, Ma'am. I merely wish that your good heart not blind you to the way the world works."
"It won't. But even if not everyone is like Boc, let's make a world where it's easier for them to survive. Sound good, big guy?"
"Sounds good." He crouched almost before you reached to pull on his arm. After all these years, he knew you well - he knew you'd want to scratch him under the chin. Your fingertips burrowed into the bristly fur under his jaw, and his purr vibrated into your skin.
"Going back to what you said earlier..." you whispered into his ear, a smirk already playing across your face unbidden, "I was thinking... Well, I thought it might be nice to have some more balls of fluff learning to walk."
Blaidd's eyes had closed, but they flew open once more to meet your gaze.
"...Perhaps it might be," he murmured. "We can certainly provide a more stable life for them now."
"The first ones turned out pretty great, all things considered. Can't have been easy for them - sleeping outdoors, living on foraged food, running from Fingercreepers. So by your logic the next ones will be amazing."
His laughter almost burst from his nose in a violent snuffle.
"Let's - let's think about it, shall we, Ma'am?"
Grinning, you kissed the tip of his snout. "Let's."

Chapter Text

Location BGM

Unmaidenly Conduct and Related

• Caelid - Humanidad by Gustavo Santaolalla (alternative: Caelid from Elden Ring OST)
• Limgrave - Nerbeleth by Narsilion (alternative: Limgrave from Elden Ring OST)
• Liurnia of the Lakes - Windsong Cavern by Vindsvept (alternative: Liurnia of the Lakes from Elden Ring OST)
• Mistwood - Autumn Forest by Adrian von Ziegler (alternative: Limgrave from Elden Ring OST)
• Nokron and Nokstella - Josella by Keaton Henson feat. Ren Ford (alternative: Eternal City from Elden Ring OST)
• Raya Lucaria: Feeling Unwelcome At the Academy (Wolf Reborn) - Rain by Classical New Age Piano Music (suggested by Sadness) (alternative: Academy of Raya Lucaria from Elden Ring OST)
• Sellia - Forgotten Dreams by Nox Arcana (alternative: Caelid from Elden Ring OST)
• Siofra River - Explore Night from Overlord OST (alternative: Great Underground Rivers from Elden Ring OST)
• Sites of Grace/camps - Requiem by Trobar de Morte
• Stormveil - (alternative: Stormveil Castle from Elden Ring OST)
• Three Sisters - The Longest Night by Nox Arcana (alternative: Liurnia of the Lakes from Elden Ring OST)
• Blaidd's Chambers (Wolf Reborn) - Be My Love by Keith Jarrett (arranged for violin, cello and piano and performed by LAYERS 레이어스 클래식) (suggested by Sadness)

Icebound Returns and Starry Night series by Esoteric Mantra

• Altus Plateau (Olympus) - (alternative: Altus Plateau from Elden Ring OST)
• Farum Azula
  • The Way Forward: Lobo's Version (Apollo and Artemis) - Gentle Madman from Persona 5 Royal OST (suggested by Sadness)
  • The Way Forward: Twonished's Version (Ariadne and Asterius) - [Persona 5 Royal] Gentle Madman / Out of Kindness in the style of Persona 5 Scramble (Strikers) by Steelpedal97 (suggested by Sadness)
  • (alternative: Crumbling Farum Azula from Elden Ring OST)
• Garden (Heracles and Prometheus) - Moonless Night by Vindsvept; Consider the Lilies (violin and piano cover) by Jason Tonioli and John Knudson (suggested by Esoteric Mantra)
• Lake of Rot (Lone Wolf and Cub Edition) (Pax Romana) - Dead Meadow by Black Label Society (suggested by Sadness)
• Leyndell (Olympus) - Hunter's Dream from Bloodborne OST (can't find who suggested this, sorry) (alternative: Leyndell, Royal Capital from Elden Ring OST)
• Medía Train (Sisyphus and Tantalus)- The Molentary Express from Professor Layton and the Diabolical Box OST (suggested by Esoteric Mantra), The Transborealis by Michael Ghelfi
• Moonlight Altar (Uranos and Nyx) - We Danced Until the Moonlight by Vaiko Hansson (suggested by Sadness)
• Mountaintops of the Giants: A Lonely Walk in the Mountains (Delphi) - Je te laisserai des mots by Patrick Watson (suggested by Esoteric Mantra)
• Raya Lucaria Academy Gardens (Adonis) - Mistic from Persona 3 OST (suggested by She is me, I am her) (alternative: Academy of Raya Lucaria from Elden Ring OST)
• Testu's Rise/Sorcerer's Isle
  • Lobo and Twonished version (Orion and the Pleiades) - Pheasant Room from Rusty Lake Hotel OST (suggested by Esoteric Mantra)
    • Daytime - In Our House from Pandora's Tower OST
    • Night-time - After Hours/The City at Night from Professor Layton vs. Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney OST (suggested by She is me, I am her)
  • Tarnished and Blaidd version (Wolf Reborn) - Town of Mist/Misthallery Night from Professor Layton and the Last Specter OST (suggested by Sadness)

Age of the Chill Night

• Lake of Rot - Deep Thoughts by ofSoft (suggested by Esoteric Mantra, originally for Uranos and Nyx)
• Moonlight Altar - We Danced Until the Moonlight by Vaiko Hansson (suggested by Sadness, originally for Uranos and Nyx)

A Pack of Wolves and related

• Autumn King's Forest (Don't Wander Where the Hawthorn Grows) - Haunting Harp Music | Haunted Ballroom by ElementalSoundworks (suggested by Sadness); Lullaby of Woe from The Witcher 3 OST (suggested by Sadness); Faron Woods (2022 version, Twilight Princess cover) by Zelda Reorchestrated
• Camp with Blaidd, Faolán and the Tarnished (Don't Wander Where the Hawthorn Grows) - London from The Great Ace Attorney OST (suggested by Sadness)
  • Camp at Night - Folsense from Professor Layton and the Diabolical Box OST (suggested by Sadness)
• Mistwood Stalked by Faeries (Don't Wander Where the Hawthorn Grows) - Nameless Song (Dark Souls ending credits piano/harp/vocal cover performed by Nicolas Del Gallo, Marion Dréno and Iris De La Rochefordière) (suggested by Sadness)

Character Themes

Unmaidenly Conduct and related

• Blaidd - Chanson De Toile by Émilie Simon (this is technically not part of the playlist but I absolutely love this for Blaidd, the lyrics are perfect); Halfwolf by Aviators (suggested by knightlileep) (it's literally a song about Blaidd, I had to add it - be warned it contains spoilers for his questline in ER)
• Blaidd and Ranni - Nocturne by Herman Beeftink (suggested by Sadness)
• Blaidd and the Tarnished: The Lengths I Would Go to Save You (Wolf Reborn) - Golden Hour by JVKE (violin and piano cover by BuBu Duo) (suggested by Sadness)
• Fem!Beastman!Blaidd: A Rose By Any Other Name (Wolf Reborn) - Quiet Resource by Evelyn Stein (suggested by Sadness)
• Boc the Seamster (Fit for Lords) - Oboe Sonata, Op.166 by Camille Saint-Saëns (suggested by Sadness)
• Carian Royal Family: Bygone Glory - The Born King from King Arthur: Legend of the Sword OST
• Iji and Blaidd: Ranni's Retainers - Anything Goes by Cole Porter (suggested by Sadness)
• Iji and the Tarnished - Night And Day by Frank Sinatra (suggested by Sadness)
• Madramór, Blaidd and You (Wolf Reborn) - Reverberation (violin and piano cover by BuBu Duo) (suggested by Sadness)
• Martinet - Lady Magdalen by Ophelia's Dream
• Ranni - Forgotten Magic by Vindsvept
• Ranni and Rennala: The Dynasty of the Moon - Flute Sonata in A major by Bach (performed by Marten Root and Menno van Delft) (suggested by Sadness)
• Rennala - Suffocating the Senses by Peter Gundry; The Lily Maid by Robert Russell (suggested by Sadness) (video text references death)
• Torrent - Jardin by Gustavo Santaolalla
• Travelling Merchant on Caelid Highway - Saint Agnes and the Burning Train by Sting

Icebound Returns and Starry Night series by Esoteric Mantra

• Aster: Lobo's Farewell - Reprise from Spirited Away OST (guitar cover possibly by Ghibli's World) (suggested by Sadness)
• Aster/Lobo and Rennala: Hanging Out With Grandma - Sonata for Guitar and Harpsichord by Manuel Ponce (performed by BI/STRUMENTAL) (suggested by Sadness)
• Aster and Viola: The Empress and Justice (Mercurius Trismagistus) - Watermelon Steven from Steven Universe OST (suggested by Sadness)
• Blaidd and Aster: To Be Your Dad Forever (Virgil and Beatrice) - Love Like You (instrumental version) from Steven Universe OST (suggested by Sadness)
• Blaidd and the Tarnished: Love Reprised (Virgil and Beatrice) - Rêverie, L. 68 (Arr. for Violin & Piano) by Debussy (performed by Ami Oike and Takaya Sano) (suggested by Sadness)
• Blaidd and Viola: Adults are Weird (Mercurius Trismagistus) - G0lly's Theme from Inscryption OST (suggested by Sadness)
• Dahlia/Viola - Woman (instrumental version) by Doja Cat (suggested by She is me, I am her); 1991 (Instrumental) by Azalea Banks (suggested by Sadness); Remember When by Mitch Murder (suggested by Sadness)
• Finger Reader Enia - Goodnight, My Beautiful by Russ Morgan (Slower + Reverb version by MirbyGunner) (suggested by Sadness)
• Lobo - Catch the Rainbow by Rainbow (suggested by She is me, I am her); Remember Me As A Time Of Day by Explosions In The Sky
• Triplets: Lobo, Dahlia and Valerio (Hestia) - Little Lune by Prisoner (suggested by Sadness)
• Triplets: Aster, Viola and Briar (Hestia) - Triumph by Jhertz (suggested by Sadness)
• Twonished - Wave by Tom Jobim (suggested by She is me, I am her)
• Twonished's Missing Memories (Sisyphus and Tantalus) - Almost Blue by Chet Baker (suggested by Sadness)
• Valerio/Briar - Wake by Zane Alexander (suggested by She is me, I am her); Funky Dealer from Jet Set Radio Future OST (suggested by Sadness)

• Lobo and the Twonished: Romance Theme - Autumn Leaves by Jacques Prévert and Joseph Kosma (sax and rhythm guitar cover by Hayden Abrahams) (suggested by Sadness)
• Lobo's Determination to Save the Twonished (Thanatos) - 12 Steps Apart by Prisoner (suggested by Sadness)

Age of the Chill Night and related

• Blaidd and Bryn: Familial Love - November Rain by Guns N' Roses (piano and guitar cover by Yuval Salomon and Kfir Ochaion) (suggested by Sadness)

Age of the Chill Night and related

• Blaidd and the Tarnished (Elegance): The Elden Lord and the Last Carian Prince (Somei Shorai) - Wandering Rose from Omori OST (suggested by Sadness)

A Pack of Wolves and related

• Faolán - Orpheus Odyssey - Legends on Strings by Meditation Music (Hornpipe In E Minor by Maureen Brennan, Planxty Cruit by Ann Heymann, Love's Comfort by Janet Harbison, Year's End by Geist, Ancient Memories by Derek Bell, Martin Wynne’s by Patrick Ball, Leap by Andrea Piazza, The Nightingale by Deborah Henson-Conant) (suggested by She is me, I am her); Gaia's Chant by Faolan
• Faolán Pining - I Found by Amber Run (suggested by Thorn)
• Faolán and the Tarnished Playing Make-Believe - La Complainte de la Blanche Biche (harp and violin cover performed by JenliSisters) (suggested by Sadness)
• Faolán and the Tarnished: Childhood Sweethearts - Fantaisie for Violin & Harp, Op. 124 by Camille Saint-Saëns (performed by Paul Huang and Bridget Kibbey) (suggested by Sadness)
• Faolán and the Tarnished's Romance - Beau Soir by Claude Debussy (harp and violin by Héloïse Carlean-Jones and Maria Ioudenitch) (suggested by Sadness)
• Faolán and the Tarnished's Romance, Before Discovery - I Belong To You (acoustic version) by Caro Emerald
• Faolán and the Tarnished Together after Running Away from the Tarnished's Father - Destroyer of Worlds from Oppenheimer OST (suggested by Sadness)

• Autumn King (Don't Wander Where the Hawthorn Grows) - Echoes in the Night by Derek Fiechter; Hollow Woodlands by Derek Fiechter
• Autumn King's Lyre-Playing (Don't Wander Where the Hawthorn Grows) - Raven Feather Town by Derek and Brandon Fiechter
• Silver Fang (Don't Wander Where the Hawthorn Grows) - Wishing By Alexis Ffrench (suggested by Sadness)
• The Unwilling Jester and the Horned Monarch (Don't Wander Where the Hawthorn Grows) - illusory sense by ichika (piano and harp cover by erzloh and sizalyth) (suggested by Sadness)

• Aisling - Tale of the Snow Trail by The Seventh Midnight
• Aisling and Eoghan - Kindred, the Eternal Hunters Login Screen from League of Legends OST (suggested by Thorn)
• Aisling Singing at the Temple - Aníron by Enya
• Aisling and Faolán Voice Headcanons - The Worlds Meet by René Dupéré (Cirque du Soleil) (suggested by Thorn)
• A Song Aisling Would Sing - Gaol Ise Gaol I cover by Malinda (suggested by Thorn) (warning: may be loud)
• Eoghan Voice Headcanon, If Eoghan Could Sing - Pull Marine (Isabelle Adjani cover) by Vizir
• Eoghan Humming Headcanon - Nito Singing the Milfanito Song by gotmog22 (Dark Souls 2 edit) (suggested by Thorn)

Battle BGM

Unmaidenly Conduct and Related

• Vs. Minor Enemies/Mooks - Vamos by Gustavo Santaolalla
• Vs. Major Enemies/Bosses - Quae Dementia by Ophelia's Dream
• Tarnished Vs. Radahn (Chapter 27) - Molduga Battle (Zelda: Breath of the Wild) - Violin cover by Patti Rudisill (suggested by Sadness)
• The Mimic Tear Attacks! (Tarnished vs. Mimic Tear) (Chapter 37) - Paint It Black by The Rolling Stones (electric violin cover by Mia Asano) (suggested by Sadness)
• Vs. Grafted Scion (Wolf Reborn) - Genshin Impact OST: Rapid as Wildfires - Liyue Battle Theme for Violin & Piano by Teabag Duo (suggested by Sadness)
• Vs. Rennala (Wolf Reborn) - I'll Protect You (Stevonnie VS Jasper) from Steven Universe OST (suggested by Sadness)
• Ranni and Blaidd Team Up: The Chain Around Your Neck - Storm by Herman Beeftink (suggested by Sadness)
• Ranni and the Tarnished Team Up: Service To The Witch - Divine Dragon from Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice OST (suggested by Sadness)
• *Maliketh and the Tarnished Team Up - Night of the Wolf by Nox Arcana (suggested by Sadness)



Icebound Returns series by Esoteric Mantra

• Vs. Blaidd (Nemesis) - It Means Everything from Omori OST (suggested by Sadness)
• Vs. Fire Giant (Thanatos) - Shootin' 'n' Lootin' from Cuphead OST (suggested by Sadness)
• Vs. Lobo, the Champion of Embers - Everlong (instrumental) by Foo Fighters (suggested by Sadness)
• Vs. Minor Enemies/Mooks - Takkin' Rhythm by Gentle Forest Friends (suggested by Sadness)
• Vs. Morgott (Olympus) - Bamboleo 2022 by Daniele Vitale and Emanuel Victor (suggested by Sadness)
• Lobo, Valerio and Dahlia Gank Squad/Vs. the Siblings - Friends Boss Battle from Omori OST (suggested by She is me, I am her); Invaders Must Die by the Prodigy (suggested by Sadness)
• Vs. Lobo - The Almighty from Persona 4 OST (suggested by She is me, I am her)
• Possessed Lobo Killing Pretty Much Every Dragon in Farum Azula - Too Big to Fail from Hi-Fi Rush OST (suggested by Sadness)
• The Twonished, Briar and Viola vs. Farum Azula (Ariadne and Asterius)- Gimme Gimme from the Steven Universe OST (suggested by Sadness)
• Lobo's Mimic Tear - I Play the Coolest Instrument by Ichika Nito (suggested by Esoteric Mantra)
• Briar and Lobo Team Up: Punk Wolf Beatdown - Everybody Jump Around from Jet Set Radio OST (suggested by Sadness), Sneakman from Jet Set Radio OST (suggested by Sadness)
• Briar and the Twonished Team Up: I Wonder If All Wolves Smell The Same - Mass Destruction (Lotus Juice Remix) from Persona 3 The Movie OST (suggested by Sadness)
• Briar and Viola Team Up: Get Out Of My Way, You Lug! - AIN'T NOTHIN' LIKE A FUNKY BEAT from Lethal League Blaze OST (suggested by Sadness)
• Lobo and Ranni Team Up: Witch and Wolf? - Yukako Yamagishi's Theme from Jojo's Bizarre Adventure: Eyes of Heaven OST (suggested by Sadness)
• Lobo and the Twonished Team Up: Between Magic and Trick - Fast As You Can (Fiona Apple cover by Elsinore and Kayla Brown) from Hi Fi Rush OST (suggested by Sadness)
• Lobo and Viola Team Up: The Wavering Flame - Visions by jacket. feat. Dimi Kaye (suggested by Sadness)
• Viola and the Twonished Team Up: Made of Glintstone and Flame - Let’s Dance Boys! from Bayonetta OST (suggested by Sadness)

The Age of the Chill Night

• Vs. Astel - They Came Wearing Masks by Peter Gundry (alternative: Astel, Naturalborn of the Void from Elden Ring OST)
• Vs. Blaidd - Fragrantes Rosae by Ophelia's Dream
• Tarnished and Lobo vs. Godrick (future unnamed drabble) - Passacaglia by Handel-Halvorsen (violin and electric guitar cover by Kameliya Naydenova and Frank Cara) (suggested by Sadness)

A Pack of Wolves and related

• Faolán vs. Blaidd: Practice Fight (APoW, Chapter 7) - Libertango by Astor Piazzolla (piano and harp cover by Duo Eclectica) (suggested by Sadness)
• Faolán vs. Tarnished: Practice Fight (APoW, Chapter 7) - Danse Macabre by Saint-Saëns (cello and harp cover by Hitoshi Suzuki and Tomoko Sato) (suggested by Sadness)
• Blaidd, Faolán and the Tarnished vs. Darriwil (APoW, Chapter 9) - False Knight from Hollow Knight OST (suggested by Sadness)
• Faolán vs. Eoghan: Practice Fight...? - Omen by The Prodigy (drum and harp cover by Vera Volodkina) (suggested by Sadness)
• Vs. Eoghan - Pursuit from Cirque du Soleil (suggested by Thorn)
• Aisling and Blaidd Team Up: Yet Another Brooding Shadow - Eleanor Rigby (Beatles cover for piano) performed by Emily Linge (suggested by Sadness)
• Aisling and Eoghan Team Up: Like Bonnie and Clyde, Only Less Criminal - Eyes Closed by Netsky (suggested by Sadness)
• Aisling and Faolán Team Up: Striking Duet - Englishman in New York (Sting cover, for harp) performed by Pia Salvia (suggested by Sadness)
• Aisling and the Tarnished Team Up: The Stronger Empyrean - Yesterday (Beatles cover, for violin) performed by Kristina Ivanovic Mlinar (suggested by Sadness)
• Blaidd and Eoghan Team Up: Still Waters Run Deep - The Duel by HAVASI and ENDI (suggested by Sadness)
• Blaidd and Faolán Team Up, feat. the Tarnished: Two Shadows Try To Get It Together - Concertino for Harp & Piano in D Minor: III. Allegro brillante performed by Marielle Nordmann, François-René Duchâble and Orchestre Philharmonique de Strasbourg (suggested by Sadness)
• Eoghan and Faolán Team Up: Collusion and Confrontation - Combat Music (Drum and Harp) from The Last of Us OST (suggested by Sadness)
• Eoghan and the Tarnished Team Up: You're Helping the Wrong Lady! - The Rake by Jacob Szekely (suggested by Sadness)
• Faolán and the Tarnished Team Up: The Red Protector and his Empyrean - Kid ar an Sliabh performed by Harp Twins, Máiréad Nesbitt, Lynn Hilary and Eimear McGeown (suggested by Sadness)
• Faolán and Ranni Team Up: An Admirer Most Foul - Entr'ance by Jaques Ibert (suggested by Sadness)
• Eoghan's Futile Fight (vs. Maliketh) - Endrun/Suicide Mission (drums and choir edit by Nordlycht) from Mass Effect 2 OST (suggested by Sadness)

Multiverse crossovers

• Aisling and Lobo Team Up: Mobility Issues Gang GO! - Whirring by The Joy Formidable (suggested by Sadness)
• Blaidd and Lobo Team Up: Showin' Off to the Man You Killed - Guitar VS Piano by Marcin and Jesús Molina (suggested by Sadness)
• Blaidd and Viola Team Up: A Waltz of Frost and Flame - Tomorrow Is Mine (instrumental) from Bayonetta 2 OST (suggested by Sadness)
• Blaidd and Briar Team Up: Two Knights - Diamond is Unbreakable from Jojo's Bizarre Adventure OST (suggested by Sadness)
• Briar and the Tarnished Team Up: Maybe I'm a Momma's Boy - Sneakman from Jet Set Radio Future OST (suggested by Sadness), I'm Not A Model by Russell Simins (from Jet Set Radio Future OST) (suggested by Sadness) (NSFW lyrics)
• Eoghan and Lobo Team Up: A Single Fatal Strike - The Perfect Drug (instrumental) by Nine-inch Nails (suggested by Sadness)
• Lobo and the Tarnished Team Up: Dagger and Shield - Roundtable Rival by Lindsey Stirling (suggested by Sadness)
• The Tarnished and Viola Team Up: Unmaidenly, Yet Effective - Equilibrium by Roman Heuser (suggested by Sadness)
• *Vs. Lýkos - Krazoa Test 6 (General Scales) from Star Fox Adventures OST

Event BGM

Unmaidenly Conduct and Related

• Searching for Darriwil (Chapters 3 to 6) - De Ushuaia a La Quiaca by Röyksopp
• Catching Feelings (Chapter 4) - See You Tomorrow by Evgeny Grinko
• Bandaging Blaidd's Ear (Chapter 5) - Luna Llena by Alain Pennec
• Stargazing (Celestial) - Aeon by Ola Gjeilo
• He Wants To Be What? (Chapter 11) - Shinkai from Elfen Lied OST
• Tender Moment on the Other Side of Sellia (Chapter 18) - Disabled Emotions Suite - Part 5 by Zero Project; I Giorni by Ludovico Einaudi
• Emergency Aftercare (Chapter 21) - Firefly by Ola Gjeilo
• Spooning to Sleep (Chapter 26) - Postcard to a Critic by Elena Kats-Chernin
• Sea Sparkle (Chapter 28) - Who We Want To Be by Tom Day
• Soup in a Storm (Chapter 28) - Time Changed Everything by Nyctalgia
• Summer Storm (Chapters 29, 30 and 32) - Through the Rainwall by Gustavo Santaolalla; Violin Concerto (II) by Philip Glass
• Eating Crabs on a Stormy Beach (Chapter 32)
  • Blaidd's version - Gymnopédie No. 1 by Erik Satie (piano version performed by Daniel Varsano)
  • Tarnished's version - Gymnopédie No. 1 by Erik Satie (cello version performed by Ophélie Gaillard and Royal Philharmonic Orchestra)
• You Smell Knocked Up (Chapter 37) - Yayo (instrumental) by Lana Del Rey
• General Romance Theme - Thedas Love Theme from Dragon Age: Inquisition OST (suggested by Magiste)
• Blaidd and the Tarnished Aftercare - Cupid by FIFTY-FIFTY (violin and piano cover by BuBu Duo) (suggested by Sadness)
• Blaidd and the Tarnished: A Day of Exploring (general day's travelling theme) - Passaggio by Ludovico Einaudi (violin and piano version performed by Daniel Hope and Jacques Ammon)
• Early-Morning Fishing in Liurnia (Wolf Reborn) - Fishing Hole Soundscape (Twilight Princess) by Zelda Reorchestrated
• Blaidd's Affection (Wolf Reborn) - Darling (instrumental) by Joshua Kyan Aalampour (suggested by Sadness)
• A Lovely Afternoon Through Liurnia With Your Beloved: The Tarnished and Blaidd (Wolf Reborn) - Barcarolle, Op. 180 by Camille Saint-Saëns (suggested by Sadness)
• On the Topic of Blaidd's Rebirthing - (Wolf Reborn) - Romance for Violin and Piano composed by Rachmanioff (performers unknown) (suggested by Sadness)
• A Brewing Argument Between Blaidd and the Tarnished (Wolf Reborn) - Suite for Jazz Orchestra No. 2 by Shostakovich (arranged for violin, cello and piano and performed by LAYERS 레이어스 클래식) (suggested by Sadness)
• The Tarnished's Determination (Wolf Reborn, but can be used elsewhere) - Near Light by Mari Samuelsen (suggested by Sadness)
• A Tense Walk to Caria Manor: Blaidd's Version (Wolf Reborn) - Gnossiennes Nos. 1-3 by Erik Satie (performed by João Paulo Santos) (suggested by Sadness)
• A Nice Morning with Blaidd: Fish and Cheese for Breakfast (Wolf Reborn) - Not Spring, Love or Cherry Blossoms violin and piano cover by BuBu Duo (suggested by Sadness)
• The Way to Raya Lucaria Academy (Wolf Reborn) - Forgiven by Alexis Ffrench (suggested by Sadness)
• The Tarnished Tells Rennala of Radahn's Fate and Blaidd's Problem (Wolf Reborn) - La Pietá by C. G. Davin Leonardo (suggested by Sadness)
• Tearful Reuniting between Mother and Son (Wolf Reborn) - Duo for Harpsichord and Piano in C major performed by Seb Ang (suggested by Sadness)
• Blaidd's Guilt and Rennala’s Advice (Wolf Reborn) - Duo for Harpsichord and Piano performed by Gail Olszewski and Asako Hirabayashi (suggested by Sadness)
• Rennala's Lesson for the Tarnished (Wolf Reborn) - Sonata for violin and harpsichord no. 1 in B minor by Bach (performed by Bojan Čičić and Steven Devine) (suggested by Sadness)
• Iji Makes New Armour for Blaidd (Wolf Reborn) - Copacabana (At the Copa) by Barry Manilow (suggested by Sadness)
• The Tarnished and Blaidd Think About Starting a Family - Schubert: Serenade, D. 957 No.4 (Arr. Elman for Violin and Piano) (performed by Christian Li) (suggested by Sadness)
• *The Tarnished Saves and Encourages Boc (pre-Fit For Lords, possibly Wolf Reborn) - Simfonia mediterrània - II. Adagio espressivo by Xavier Montsalvatge (suggested by Sadness)
• The Tarnished and Blaidd Dancing Together - Merry Go Round of Life from Howl's Moving Castle OST (piano and violin cover by kumaru - anime on piano and Mahina) (suggested by Sadness)
• Meeting Gurranq - The Mission/How Great Thou Art (performed by The Piano Guys and The Tabernacle Choir) (suggested by Sadness)
• Blaidd's Childhood Memories of Maliketh - The Rose by Ola Gjeilo (suggested by Sadness)
• *The Tarnished Finally Gets Through to Gurranq with Blaidd's Help - The Days of Beauty by Ola Gjeilo (suggested by Sadness)
• Saving Maliketh from Himself - Across the Vast, Eternal Sky by Ola Gjeilo (performed by The Central Washington University Chamber Choir, the Kairos String Quartet, and Ola Gjeilo) (suggested by Sadness)

The Age of Icebound Stars

• Blaidd's Heartbreak (Chapter 2) - Unsent Love Letters by Elena Kats-Chernin (suggested by Sadness) (also listed in Icebound Returns series)
• Setting Out With The Kids (Chapter 3) - Ljósið by Ólafur Arnalds

Icebound Returns and Starry Night series by Esoteric Mantra

• Blaidd Kidnaps Aster (Iulius and Augustus) - Unnamed Duet by The Box (suggested by Sadness)
• Aster and Blaidd by the Fire (Iulius and Augustus) - Take Five by Felix Mross and Daniel Mai (suggested by Sadness)
• Aster and Blaidd Talk, Then He Convinces Him to Talk to the Tarnished (Iulius and Augustus) - Comedy Is Over by Dalo Vian (suggested by Sadness)
• Ranni's Compromise (Pax Romana) - Fauré Pavane (alto flute and violin arrangement performed by katieflute and Jeremías Sergiani Velázquez) (suggested by Sadness)
• Making a Blanket with Mom (Themis and Mnemosyne) - the answer by viofi (suggested by Sadness)
• Blaidd's Final Words and Blaidd's Dream (Pax Romana) - State Of Grace by Liquid Tension Experiment (suggested by Sadness)
• Blaidd and the Tarnished Reconcile (Pax Romana) - Duet from Omori OST (suggested by Sadness)
• Starry Night's End (Pax Romana) - Vincent (Starry, Starry Night) (piano cover by Phil Thompson feat. Greater Twin Cities Youth Symphonies) (suggested by Sadness)
• Lobo, Iji and the Tarnished at the Tower (Virgil and Beatrice) - Café 1930 by Astor Pizzaolla (violin and guitar cover performed by Chloe Chua and Kevin Loh) (suggested by Sadness)
• Lobo and Iji Working in the Shadows (Virgil and Beatrice) - All Along The Watchtower (Bob Dylan cover by Jimi Hendrix) (suggested by Sadness)
• Lobo, After Killing Blaidd (Nemesis) - Please, Just Take Me Home, Any Home by Prisoner (suggested by Sadness)
• Persephone and Hades (Persephone and Hades) - Majula from Dark Souls 2 OST (suggested by Esoteric Mantra)
• Blaidd's Depression (Nemesis/Persephone and Hades/Orion and the Pleiades) - Unsent Love Letters by Elena Kats-Chernin (suggested by Sadness) (also listed in AoIS)
• Blaidd and the Tarnished Reunited (Persephone and Hades) - Moon River (cello cover by Hee-Young Lim) (suggested by Sadness)
• Iji and the Twonished Talk (Orion and the Pleiades) - Adagio for Flute and Clavichord by Laurence Glazier (suggested by Sadness)
• Lobo Confronts Ranni (Orion and the Pleiades) - Prelude to Resolve from The Great Ace Attorney 2 OST (suggested by She is me, I am her)
• Lobo and Ranni Try to See Eye to Eye (Orion and the Pleiades) - Sorry by Lee (suggested by Sadness)
• Lobo's Plan Explained (Orion and the Pleiades) - Reasoning Battle ~ Introduction from The Great Ace Attorney: Adventures OST (suggested by Esoteric Mantra)
• Lobo's Dream (Hypnos) - Gregg's Woods from Night in the Woods OST (suggested by Sadness)
• Lobo Playing the Lute (Hypnos) - The Lachrimae Pavan by John Dowland (lute by Brandon Acker) (suggested by Esoteric Mantra)
• Ranni and the Twonished Talk (Adonis) - Pieces of a Memory by Vindsvept
• Lobo Hanging Out with Grandma Rennala (Adonis) - Sad by Pacific (suggested by Sadness)
• Lobo and the Twonished Under a Caelid Night Sky (Sisyphus and Tantalus) - Summertime by Dennis Marcellino and Mark Stefani (suggested by Sadness)
• Ranni's Request (Olympus) - Nothing Else Matters by Metallica (flute and guitar cover by Diego Galeno) (suggested by Sadness)
• Iji's Confession (Hephaestus) - Blue In Green by Miles Davies (suggested by Sadness)
• Iji, Lobo and the Twonished Planning Their Next Move (Hephaestus) - The girl from Ipanema (cover) by Frank Sinatra (suggested by Sadness)
• Iji Indirectly Betrays Ranni by Helping Lobo (Hephaestus) - Killing Me Softly With Her Song by Perry Como (suggested by Sadness)
• Iji, Lobo and the Twonished Sewing (Hephaestus) - Everyday Fantasy from Katawa Shoujo OST
• Wandering in the Lake of Rot (Uranos and Nyx) - Deep Thoughts by ofSoft (suggested by Esoteric Mantra)
• The Far Shore: Lobo's Acceptance (Uranos and Nyx) - When everything appeared to be ok by Prisoner (suggested by Sadness)
• Dark Path to the Two Fingers (Uranos and Nyx) - Absinthe by Karl Shoenberg (suggested by Sadness)
• The Twonished and Lobo Sleep Together (Delphi) - The Nearness of You by Makoto Ueno and Hirofumi Asama (suggested by Sadness)
• Altus Plateau: What Remains of Tarnished Grace - Between Doors from Persona 3 FES OST (suggested by Sadness)
• The Twonished and Lobo Say Goodbye at the Forge (Thanatos) - Bus Stop by Makoto Ueno and Hirofumi Asama (suggested by Sadness)
• Lobo Breaks Down (Apollo and Artemis) - Greet Death by Explosions in the Sky (suggested by Sadness) (suddenly loud at about 0:48)
• Lobo and Ranni Continue the Quest Together (Apollo and Artemis) - Budapest (2005 remaster) by Jethro Tull (suggested by Sadness)
• Lobo and Maliketh (Orpheus and Eurydice) - Nox Noctis (choir and electric guitar) by Mark Smythe (suggested by Sadness)
• A Moon-Shaped Rune in the Sky: Lobo and Ranni’s Age of Stars (Orpheus and Eurydice) - Your Hand in Mine by Explosions in the Sky (suggested by Sadness)
• Alone at Bellum Church (Hyperion) - Ice Cream by Sweet Medicine (suggested by Sadness)
• Ranni's Regret: Holding Onto a Memory - The Prayer (flute and electric guitar cover by Bevani Flute) (suggested by Sadness)
• Goodbye to Witch and One Armed Wolf (Hyperion) - Heal (instrumental) by Tom Odell (suggested by Sadness)
• Together at the Camp (Hyperion) - Ideal and the Real (end version) from Persona 5 Royal OST (suggested by Sadness)
• Lobo and Valerio: Building Kites and Mourning (Themis and Mnemosyne) - Postcard from 1952 by Explosions In The Sky (suggested by Sadness)
• There's Never Enough Time: Theme for the Triplets Talking about Death (Themis and Mnemosyne) - Midnight by kudasaibeats (suggested by Sadness)
• Making a Blanket (Again) feat. Your Siblings! (Themis and Mnemosyne) - Spring by StriveAU (suggested by Sadness)
• The Kidnapper in our Midst (Mercurius Trismagistus) - Snow World (Yume Nikki cover by Kn.77) (suggested by Sadness)
• Chill Card Game ft. Aster, Blaidd and Viola (Mercurius Trismagistus) - Restaurant Prep from Dave the Diver OST (suggested by Sadness)

The Age of the Chill Night and related

• Riding Solo (Chapters 1 and 2) - Egredimini by Ophelia's Dream
• Under the Waterfall (Chapter 9) - Floor by PVNDV
• In Our Wolf Hovel (post-AoCN fics, e.g. Fit For Lords) - Misthallery's Many Canals from Professor Layton and the Last Spectre OST (suggested by Sadness)
• Bryn and the Tarnished: Having Fun in the Garden with Mam (post-AoCN fics) - La Vie en Rose by Edith Piaf (violin and guitar cover by Jan Neland and Kim Allen) (suggested by Sadness)
• Blaidd's Collar (Collar and Chain) - Edelweiss from The Sound of Music OST (violin and piano cover by Clara Tietz and Paul Hankinson) (suggested by Sadness)
• Blaidd's Commitment Theme (Collar and Chain) - Stories We Lived by Alexis Ffrench (suggested by Sadness)
• Starting a New Life Together (Collar and Chain) - Night Dancer by imase (violin and piano cover by BuBu Duo) (suggested by Sadness)
• Making Blaidd's New Clothes with Boc (Fit for Lords) - G.F. Händel Trio Sonata Op. 2 No.1 in b minor for Oboe, Violin and Basso Continuo, HWV 386b (performed by Ji-Hyun Park, Min-Kyung Shin, and Ji-Eun Han) (suggested by Sadness)
• Chill Family Breakfast (Somei Shorai) - Umbrella Groove by Chillhop Guitar (suggested by Sadness)

A Pack of Wolves and related

• Faolán and the Tarnished: First Meeting - Sonata (Larghetto and Allegro) in G minor for Violin and Harp by Gaetano Donizetti (performed by Ekaterina Valiulina and Elisa Netzer) (suggested by Sadness)
• A Lullaby Faolán Might Have Played For the Tarnished as Kids - Isabella's Lullaby (The Promised Neverland OST, harp cover) by Xingni Xiao (suggested by Sadness)
• Faolán and the Tarnished Aftercare - Duo for Violin and Harp, Op. 156 by Nicolai von Wilm (performed by Yehudi Menuhin and Nicanor Zabaleta) (suggested by Sadness)
• Faolán and Blaidd's Growing Discord (Chapter 4 onwards) - Amelie, Competine d'un Autre été from Amelie OST (harp and piano cover by Andrea Solinas) (suggested by Sadness)
• Blaidd and the Tarnished's Budding Romance (Chapter 4 onwards) - Reverie by Claude Debussy (violin and piano by Anna Konoplyova and Edward Kriege) (suggested by Sadness)
• Waking Up at the Stranded Graveyard (Chapter 6) - Répondez-Moi by Gjon's Tears (me looking for an excuse to add Gjon's Tears to this playlist? it's more likely than u think)
• Faolán and Blaidd Return After their Confrontation (Chapter 8 to 9) - Emperor Concerto, Second Movement by Beethoven (piano and harp arrangement performed by Tamara-Anna Cislowska and Genevieve Lang) (suggested by Sadness)
• Faolán Thinks the Tarnished Will Leave Him (Chapter 9) - Café 1930 by Astor Piazzolla (violin and harp cover performed by Emily Kriner and Elizabeth Steiner) (suggested by Sadness)
• Blaidd, Faolán and the Tarnished Reconcile (Chapter 9 onwards) - Lovely by Billie Eilish (harp, violin and piano cover by Summer Swee-Singh & the Heartstrings) (suggested by Sadness)
• Safe Between Two Half-Wolven Lovers (Don't Wander Where the Hawthorn Grows) - Thoughtful (Radio Edit) by Peder B. Helland (suggested by Sadness)
• Blaidd and Faolán's Blooming (Reluctant) Friendship Theme - Hit and Run (Lana del Rey harp and piano cover) by Winterly Heights (suggested by Sadness)
• Faolán and the Tarnished Meet Ranni (chess request) - Sonata for flute, viola, and harp by Claude Debussy (performed by Osian Ellis and The Melos Ensemble ) (suggested by Sadness)
• Ranni and Faolán: An Unrequited Crush, A Game (chess request) - En bateau by Claude Debussy (flute and harp cover by János Bálint and Nóra Mercz) (suggested by Sadness)
• Ranni and Faolán's Chess Match (chess request) - Schwanenlied by Fanny Mendelssohn-Hensel (performed by Eva Oertle and Consuelo Giulianelli)
• *Rennala Being Introduced to Faolán and the Tarnished - Harp Concerto in B flat major composed by Fredrick Handel (suggested by Sadness)
• Rennala Meets Faolán and He Makes a Good Impression - Sonata in E-Flat Major for Harp and Harpsichord by Jean-Pierre Baur (performed by Marielle Nordmann and Brigitte Haudebourg) (suggested by Sadness)
• Meeting Someone Strange - Natsume Sōseki ~ I Am Innocent from The Great Ace Attorney OST (suggested by She is me, I am her)
• The Tarnished and Faolán Wandering Caelid - Reflection from Hollow Knight OST (suggested by Sadness)




Multiverse crossovers

• Blaidd and Lobo: An Uncomfortable Conversation (currently unnamed summons drabble) - Recuerdos de la Alhambra by Francisco Tárrega (performed by Thibaut Garcia)
• *Attack on Stormveil Castle! - Lobo and the Tarnished version (currently unnamed summons drabble) - Mega Man 2: Flashman Stage cover by String Player Gamer (suggested by Sadness)
• Faolán's Song: The Party in the Yard (Valhalla) - Departure by Samantha Ballard (suggested by Sadness)
• The Garden Party: You're always welcome here (Valhalla) - Let you break my heart again by Laufey and Philharmonic Orchestra (suggested by Sadness)

Character Themes

Unmaidenly Conduct and Related

• Iji - Granddad by Clive Dunn
• Mimic Tear - I Am A Girl Like You from Barbie as The Princess and the Pauper (suggested by Sadness)
• Seluvis - You're the Jerk of the Week by Parry Gripp
• Tarnished When the Kids are Born - Gettin' My Mom On by Jack Stauber (warning: video is surreal and mildly disturbing on occasion) (suggested by Sadness)
• Tarnished as a Single Mother when she has to Wash a Single Dish - I'm A Survivor by Reba McEntire (suggested by Sadness)

The Age of Icebound Stars

• Cubs - Puppy Time by Parry Gripp

Icebound Returns and Starry Night by Esoteric Mantra

• Lobo and the Twonished's Friendship - 80s Remix: Linkin Park - Numb by Jerry Galeries (suggested by Sadness)
• Little Lobo on the Boat to Medía Going Through His Reputation Era - Look What You Made Me Do (James Bond theme-style Taylor Swift cover) by Postmodern Jukebox ft. Kenton Chen (suggested by Sadness)
• Paper Moon and Private Dancer - My Lovely Horse from Father Ted (mild strobe-ish effect at end)
• *Viola/Nerys Complaining about her First World Problems while People are Literally Dying - 【VOCALOID Parody】 "sksksk" (Miku Becomes a VSCO Girl) 【Anna ou-】by 野良まと / Noramato (suggested by Sadness)
• *Briar/Meredydd Trying to Find the Lactose Free Products at the Cheese Aisle (He's in Hell) - Cheese by Jack Stauber's Micropop (suggested by Sadness)

A Pack of Wolves

• The Tarnished, Blaidd and Faolán Deciding Who Gets the Aux Cord - Work - Emo Polka Jazz [US Version] (Rihanna cover) by TRONICBOX (suggested by Sadness)
• Shadows' OnlyDwts/OnlyWolves/OnlyEmpyreans Theme - Off With His Shirt from Galavant OST (suggested by Thorn)
• Faolán Serenading Blaidd While Blaidd Eats Peas - Grandaddy by The Horne Section (NSFW wordplay)
• *Blaidd and Faolán after the Topping Fic, According to The Tarnished - Dream - Mask (Official Sus Remix) by We The Sus Music (suggested by Sadness) (extremely NSFW lyrics)

Multiverse crossovers

• Tarnished, Blaidd, Lýkos, Faolán, Eoghan and Lobo Deciding Who Gets the Aux Cord - Bad Romance - #MetalPolkaDance80sJazzClassical (Lady Gaga cover) by TRONICBOX (suggested by Sadness)
• Faolán, Blaidd, Eoghan and Lýkos Showing Up to the Halloween Party (WARNING: Aesthetic) - Monster High - Fright Song (Ft. Jiafei, Cupcakke, Shenseea, Noseporque111) by fullyray (suggested by Sadness)
• Lobo and Faolán Start a Band - Fade to Black by Metallica (harp guitar cover by Jamie Dupuis) (suggested by Sadness)

Battle BGM

Icebound Returns series by Esoteric Mantra

• Vs. Blaidd (Nemesis) - Big Iron by Marty Robbins (suggested by Esoteric Mantra)
• Vs. Margit (Aegis) - Rules of Nature from Metal Gear Rising Revengeance OST (suggested by Esoteric Mantra)

Multiverse crossovers

• Lobo vs. Eoghan - Ludwig the Holy Blade from Bloodborne OST (metal cover by RichaadEB) (suggested by Sadness) (Warning: loud)

Event BGM

Unmaidenly Conduct and Related

• Drinking Tea (most chapters lbr) - Moment of Rest from Professor Layton and the Diabolical Box OST; Right Said Fred by Bernard Cribbins
• Blaidd Chugging Tea From a Tiny Cup (Chapter 3) - Shots by LMFAO feat. Lil Jon (NSFW lyrics - SFW version here)
• The Tarnished Shopping For Things To Shove Up Blaidd's Butt (Chapter 20) - Shopping Theme from Nintendogs OST (suggested by Sadness)
• Grease (Chapter 22 onwards) - Doctor Who Theme
• Washing Blaidd (Chapter 24) - Bath Time from Nintendogs OST
• Alexander, Blaidd, The Tarnished and Others On Their Way To Beat Up Radahn (Chapter 27) - Tanks! (All Variations) from Wii Play OST (suggested by Sadness)
• Patches' Incredible Contribution to the Defeat of Starscourge Radahn (Chapter 27) - Fuck This Shit I'm Out by The Theme Song (NSFW lyrics. I know the link doesn't go to the original, but the original is age-restricted)
• The Tarnished and Blaidd After Trying Finger But Hole (Chapter 33) - MMD - Sans Undertale x Nagito Komaeda (fingers in his ass) by only sadness remains (suggested by Sadness) (NSFW lyrics)

Icebound Returns and Starry Night series by Esoteric Mantra

• Lobo Peeing at Caria Manor (Orion and the Pleiades) - Disrespect Your Surroundings (snippet from Mr. Highway's Thinking About The End by A Day To Remember)
• Lobo Confronts Ranni (Orion and the Pleiades) - Ace Attorney - Party Rockers by SodaMazing (suggested by She is me, I am her)
• Lobo Slanders Ranni - Industry Baby by Lil Nas X (sped up) (suggested by She is me, I am her)
• Barbecue Theme (Castor) - Girl On Fire by Alicia Keys
• Barbecue Theme (Pollux) - We Are Young by Fun feat. Janelle Monáe
• Lobo Confessing to the Twonished That As a Child He Liked Pineapple on Pizza and Also Orange Juice with the Pulp - A Monster Like Me by Mørland and Debrah Scarlett
• Aster/Lobo/Bryn wet dream non sexual medicinal dream - Sweet Bod by Lemon Demon (suggested by Sadness) (fairly NSFW, suggestive and slightly gross lyrics)

The Age of the Chill Night and related

• Seluvis is Dead (Chapter 3) - Stadium Rave by Mark Governor and Glenn Nishida (suggested by Sadness)
• Blaidd Running Off (Chapter 3) - Yakety Sax by Boots Randolph; Running in the 90s by Max Coveri; Sandstorm by Darude; Gotta Go Fast from Sonic X OST
• Narration (Chapter 6) - Talk Dirty by Jason Derulo feat. 2 Chainz
• Nerys Teaching the Whole Family Manners (Somei Shorai) - 游京 [those Chinese etiquette videos] (CupcakKe Remix) by Ranvision [Dj Pyromania] (suggested by Sadness) (NSFW due to explicit lyrics)

A Pack of Wolves and related

• Faolán Nutting (APoW, Chapter 1) - Final Fantasy Victory Fanfare played on Genshin Impact Lyre by Pan Meesook
• Blaidd's Bushwank Anthem (APoW, Chapter 3) - Centerfold by The J. Geils Band (suggested by She is me, I am her)
• Faolán and Blaidd Target Practice (APoW, Chapter 7) - Archery Theme from Wii Sports Resort OST (suggested by Sadness)
• Blaidd After Wanking In The Bushes Gets Him a Tarnished GF (APoW) - Specialist from Persona 4 OST (suggested by She is me, I am her)
• Faolán and the Tarnished Trying to Get Blaidd into Roleplaying, but with Birds instead of Fae - we like watching birds by Brian David Gilbert (suggested by Sadness)
• Faolán and Blaidd Sex Theme - Despacito by Luis Fonsi (harp and piano cover by Duo Eclectica) (suggested by Sadness)
• A Pack of Wolves: Genderswapped AU - Jolene by Dolly Parton (Bardcore/Medieval cover by Hildegard von Blingin') (suggested by She is me, I am her)

Multiverse crossovers

• Lobo Deceiving the Tarnished and Blaidd (currently unnamed summons drabble) - Dance of the Knights by Prokofiev (electric guitar and piano cover by Mark Klett) (suggested by Sadness)

Songs that kinda fit, but don't go with the vibe of the playlist.

Unmaidenly Conduct

• The Tarnished Being Sad About Blaidd Friendzoning Her - Soap by Melanie Martinez (lyrics contain a brief reference to suicide) (somewhat suggested by Esoteric Mantra)
• The Tarnished Still Being Sad About Blaidd Friendzoning Her - Lies (acoustic version) by Marina and the Diamonds
• Sexings - Yo Yo by MIKA (video contains mild flashing lights and also there are eyes) (lyrics are not appropriate to UC at all but I legit had this on loop while I was writing several of the sex scenes, especially the early ones)

Certain characters have certain instruments associated with them. These aren't binding, so please don't feel like you can't suggest music associated with certain characters if it doesn't contain their associated instrument. Characters are listed alphabetically.
Largely compiled by Sadness, with contributions by Esoteric Mantra, SomeLurkerDude and Thorn.

• Aisling - (female) vocals, flute
• Blaidd - piano
• Boc - oboe
• Dahlia/Viola (AoIS/Icebound timelines), Nerys (AoCN timelines) - synths
• Eoghan - drums (esp. timpani), cello and other bass instruments
• Faolán - lyre, harp
• Iji - male vocals
• Lobo:
• Aster (AoIS/Icebound timelines) - electric guitar
• Bryn (AoCN timeline) - acoustic guitar
• Lýkos - drums (esp. Bodhrán)
• Maliketh - choir
• Ranni - flute
• Rennala - harpsichord
• The Tarnished - violin, cello
• The Twonished - saxophone and other brass wind instruments
• Valerio/Briar (AoIS/Icebound timelines), Meredydd (AoCN timelines) - beat

Chapter Text

Everyone in the village knew better than to travel through the woods at night. Even during the day, the sprawl of trees across the lowlands was treated with a respect and a caution that approached fear. But at least when the sun was high then it was no more dangerous than anywhere else. Unless the sun was well and truly above the horizon, however, people simply did not enter the forest. Not if they ever meant to come out, anyway. It belonged to the Highborn Folk, the Air Demons, the Host of the Dead, or any other euphemism one might use to avoid naming the Fae. Between dusk and dawn the Folk were said to roam those woods, and woe betide any fool who met with them. Where such humans went after they vanished was a matter of opinion. Some said their bodies lay where the nettles grew thickest. Others maintained that the missing were still alive but stolen away to the Otherworld, bound to serve in some Faerie Court, whether as a vassal or a source of entertainment.

You knew the stories well. So what was your excuse?

Anyone who thought that night was a time of quiet and stillness had never been out late in a forest. The darkness was alive with activity. Insects buzzed to each other from each tree trunk. Every so often, a tiny silhouette or two wheeled overhead, a bat twisting and turning in search of a meal. The grass rustled as you strode through it, long enough to brush the hem of your skirt. Something swooped through the air before you, ghost-like, and you stopped short. Only an owl crossing your path, wings spread wide in its silent swoop. It alighted in a nearby tree, ruffled up its feathers, and turned its head to fix one eye on you. You let it be and continued on your way. Your own footfalls were by far the loudest, but not the only ones to be heard. Mice and the occasional springhare scurried through the undergrowth, heard but not seen, too wary of your presence to show themselves. Also shy were the forest's larger inhabitants, the sounds of hooves and paws so faint that you couldn't be sure you weren't imagining them.

You swore to yourself as your skirt snagged in a shrub, and you paused to pull yourself free of the thorns. The sound of footsteps stopped. Your own, and another pair - quieter, further away - a moment later. Someone was following you...? Your head whipped round and you scoured the forest behind you. Nothing. Nobody between the trees, no movement in the bushes, nothing in the grass. Whatever it was, it had gone. Weird. You tried to shrug it off as you untangled yourself from the shrub and carried on toward the heart of the forest. Footsteps crunched in the dirt behind you, and you spun around. Empty. Silence. It had to be your mind playing tricks on you, right? The stories of your ancestors weaving themselves into shadow puppets to stalk your path. But you would not let them scare you.

There was a certain spot that wasn't strictly on your route, yet you couldn't resist heading for. You knew you were close when you heard the sound of trickling water. You followed it down a sloping bank and through a particularly wild patch of grass. Flickers of light rose around you like embers cast from a bonfire. You'd accidentally disturbed some fireflies. They bobbed along aimlessly, more and more joining them as you waded through the undergrowth until you had a cluster of twinkling golden stars floating before you.

Beyond the grass, the brook gleamed silver in the moonlight as it snaked between the trees and tumbled into a large pond. You stopped on the bank to watch the fireflies flit over the water. It was a clear night, with neither clouds nor breeze to disturb the perfect mirror of the pond. Whenever a firefly's light glimmered in the darkness, its twin appeared in the water's surface. It reflected not only the golden fireflies, but some of the brighter pinpricks of silver that hung in the inky-blue sky, and the gleam of the moon. Across the pond, on the opposite bank, another source of light caught your eye. Not gold nor silver, but a faint yet vibrant green. Streaks of bioluminescent moss that draped like bedraggled curtains from a pair of massive antlers. Below them, a pair of dark and empty sockets stared back at you. The figure stood in the shadow of trees, and the moss gave little light, so you saw only the antlered skull, stripped entirely of its flesh, and a neck leading into broad, fur-clad shoulders. Beyond that was nothing but darkness. The skull was too large for a deer, and the being that wore it as a mask was too tall to be human. Strangest of all, however, was their reflection upon the water - for they had none. The weeds around their feet dipped towards their counterparts, and the trees they stood amongst were reflected in their entirety, with no skull-clad figure to obscure them. But as far as the pond was concerned, the figure simply did not exist. A branch snapped behind you. A thud as something heavy landed in a rustle of leaves. You turned, heart in your throat. Among the distant trees, you saw slender legs flailing as a deer righted itself and galloped off. Just a bit of wildlife having a mishap, that was all. You looked back to the pool and found yourself alone. The fireflies had moved on. The banks were empty. No more skull-headed creatures staring at you with empty eyes.

You resumed your journey through the forest, trying to pay no heed to the new sounds drifting through the trees. There were the footsteps that you didn't even bother to look for the source of anymore, but now the night air carried music on it. The soft pluck of strings, or whispered snatches of song. The melody, or what your mind pieced together despite yourself, was slow and simple. Each note seemed to tremble in the air, a delicate shimmer of sound that lingered long after it ended. There was something haunting about it, something timeless and ancient hidden in that deceptively simple tune. In places it might have passed for an old traditional piece, yet you weren't sure if you'd ever heard it before. It was the kind of song that your ears may not know, but your bones remembered. It was music that your ancestors would have warned you against.

Deeper and deeper you went into the woods, the canopy of branches over your head thickening, the music growing ever so slightly louder, until the canopy suddenly broke. Ahead of you lay a clearing, a small hill encircled by trees, upon which the moon shone unhindered. Everything about the hill screamed artifice, something that had been constructed rather than forming naturally. There were no bumps, no crags nor rough edges to be seen. Rather, it would have formed a dome were it not for the perfectly - too perfectly - flat top, as if someone had skimmed it off with a knife. Grass covered the hill, and wildflowers speckled it, but only a single tree dared to grow on the summit. One small solitary hawthorn, caught between the changing seasons. The last tatters of spring blossom and the first clusters of berries hung side-by-side among the thorns.

A figure sat at the base of the tree, their back against the trunk and legs curled carelessly below them, as they played upon a lyre. You stood transfixed. Each note seemed to reverberate in the air before fading into silence, each note filling you with wonderment and just a little dread. The melody trailed to a close too soon and yet not soon enough, and the lyre-player turned their head towards you, staring from the empty sockets of an antlered skull. In silence they rose to their feet. They were so tall that the pointed tips of the antlers rose above the hawthorn's highest branches. You returned their stare, and after a few moments of silence they took their first step towards you. The hem of their cloak trailed over the ground as they slowly descended the hill. The garment enshrouded their whole body from neck to ankle. You had a much better view of the figure than you had from across the pond, and you saw that it was a cloak of springhare pelts, with an oddly bulky fastening that you realised was made of springhare paws, the claws interlocking to clasp the cloak shut. As they approached you, you noticed that the grass didn't bend beneath their feet. The cloak parted enough for one arm to slip out, and they held out their hand to you. A hand covered in red fur, bearing paw-pads like a dog, and the fingers tipped with claws. You stepped closer. By the gods, they really were enormous. Your head only came to their waist. Against generations of warnings, you reached up slipped your hand into theirs. The furred fingers curled around yours, and the figure stooped. They brought your hand to their face. You watched your hand disappear under the skull as they kissed the back of it. They looked back to your face. Now that you were only inches apart, you saw that the skull - an elk skull, it turned out - was engraved, etched with patterns and symbols you didn't know the meaning of. And deep within the skull's sockets, spots of pure white eyeshine gleamed back at you.

"Good evening."
It was a musical sort of voice, and the pitch of it combined with the breadth of his springhare-robed shoulders confirmed your suspicions that this being was a male. But then you already knew that, didn't you? Even before you saw him across the pond, you'd known.
"I did not expect a guest," he added.
"I would hardly call myself a guest."
He cocked his head. "Then what would you call yourself?"
That was one of their tricks. Names were power. If a Faerie knew your name, they could weave magic with it. If you learnt a Faerie's name, you controlled them.
"Only myself. And what about my host? Am I simply to call him Host?"
You almost felt his smile from under the elk skull.
"You may call me Host, or the Autumn King."
He knew the game too. Neither of you would forfeit your names. Neither of you would grant the other that power over you.
"The Autumn King, is it?" You glanced up the hill towards the hawthorn. "A bit early in the year for you, right? It's hardly summer yet."
"Don't let the name mislead you. These are my woods all year round. But you know that, don't you? This isn't the first time I've offered my hospitality."

He seized you by the throat and threw you to the ground. Luckily for you, the grass had grown lush here, and it cushioned the impact. He hadn't thrown you especially hard either. Before you could think any more than that, the Autumn King straddled you, his skull helm less than an inch from your face as he growled.

"I warned you last time, 'guest', that this place is not for your kind. These woods are sacred for me and my Court. Humans have stolen our land, driven my people into hiding for hundreds of years, and now you think you can trespass on what little we have left? Did you not get the message last time you tried it?"
"Are you sure you're remembering it right?" you retorted. "The way I recall it, we made a bet and I won. I won the right to pass through as I please, as long as I don't disturb your Folk and I don't harm the forest."
"Ah. But that was last time. This is this time."
You frowned. "What? But we had a deal! You swore to honour it!"
"And I did. I let you pass through as you pleased - once. You never said that you wanted more than once. The deal lasted until you set foot outside the forest."

Damn it, he'd outsmarted you! According to the old tales it was impossible for the Fae to lie, so they'd learnt to be cunning in their speech. They kept their word, but left themselves loopholes. Somehow you'd missed that one. Your confidence petered out, then blazed up anew.

"Let's make a new deal, then!"
"Excellent." Were his eyes shining even brighter? "I do enjoy a good game against a worthy opponent - to say nothing of collecting my prize."
"So are you pretending you didn't lose last time, or...?"
"Just because you won once doesn't mean you'll win again." He snatched your bag from your side, batting away the hand you reached out for it. "Let me see what my guest decided to bring her Host."

He rifled through the bag, pausing now and again to tut.
"You certainly didn't pack for a walk through my forest, did you? You've brought no milk to appease me, no baked goods, and no iron to repel me either. What you have brought are..."
He fished out a tiny bag and held up the contents.
"A brush and comb..."
Next came a small knife, still in its sheath.
"A knife, and..."
Finally he drew out a few coils of rope for you to examine.
"Some of the thinnest ropes I've ever seen. Now why did you pack those, I wonder? Why did you bring nothing to protect yourself from me, when you knew that you'd surely meet me if you came to this tree?"
He moved further up your body, pinning you under him.
"You planned this. You wanted to provoke me again. You enjoyed our wager so much that you thought you'd come back and make another one."
You raised your chin and looked him in the eye. "No comment."

Without a word he lifted your skirt. The draping fabric skimmed across your skin as he pushed it up above your waist. He stared at your lower half as it was bared to the night air.

"You're not even wearing undergarments." He gave a husky bark of laughter, with more than a little growl in its undercurrent. "Oh, you knew exactly what you wanted when you came here."
"Maybe I did."
He ran his hand along your thigh and squeezed it, claws digging into you with every knead of your flesh between his fingers.
"I'm sure the Autumn Court and I will find plenty of use for such a brazen human. ...Oh, but where are my manners?" He pulled your skirt back down and hoisted you to your feet. "Forgive my poor hospitality. We haven't even eaten yet."

The Autumn King nodded to a boulder at the foot of the hill, one that had certainly not been there when he'd tackled you. On top of it were a stack of plates and some round bread rolls a little smaller than your palm. Each roll was speckled with green - wild herbs, maybe nettles at this time of year.

"If you could help serve the bread." The Autumn King nodded towards the plates, and you squinted at them. Something wasn't right here.
"Why are there three plates for two of us?"
"A plate for you, a plate for me, and a plate for offerings to the Highborn Folk."
Your frown deepened.
"You're going to eat the last plate too, aren't you?"
"I am one of the Highborn Folk, and it's good bread."

Granting himself extra bread didn't surprise you. The Fae appreciated the good things in life. Food, music, sex - the Fae were gluttons for pleasure of any kind. You set out the three plates. Each was notably smaller than the last. Perhaps the smallest plate was for the Fae's offering? You reached for the bread rolls, but the Autumn King held a hand up.

"Before you share them out, listen to the rules."
"Rules? About bread?" You already suspected where this was going, though, and his next words proved you right.
"About the wager we're going to make. I have a little game for you, but we should first lay out our terms." He tilted his head, the white glow of his eyes boring into yours. "If you lose the game, then you become my property. You will be taken from this world forever and join me in the Otherworld, where you'll serve me and the Autumn Court in whatever way I see fit. The same terms I laid out last time, you'll remember."
"But if I win, I get free passage through this forest without you or any of your Folk trying to harm me. In addition, if I win, you'll have to serve me in whatever way I see fit. It's only fair. Same terms here, too."
Even though you couldn't see his face, you heard the smile in the Autumn King's voice. "That sounds very fair. Your ideas of service are, I suspect, not far from my own."

Wait, you'd forgotten something. You hadn't specified that your right to travel through the forest was not just for tonight. That was how he'd caught you out, after all. Did you really want to leave that loophole open?

"And about me going through the woods..."
...Come to think of it... you did rather enjoy these games of his. You were confident in your quick wits - surely you'd be able to evade him again. It didn't hurt that, eerie as he was, you were attracted to the Autumn King. Something in his manner grabbed you, that capricious mix of rogue, beast, and gentleman that coaxed you on despite your better judgement. Plus his physical form was nothing to sneeze at. He was tall, of course, and broad-shouldered. As part of your victory last time, you had ordered him to strip naked before he served you, and the body that he hid under that long cloak was... well.

"It's only for today," you heard yourself say. "The next time I want to come through, I will. I'm not scared of you. I'll win any game you throw at me."
"You will, will you? I do like humans with a bit of spirit. They make for fun servants. But remember - under these terms, you have to beat me every time you pass through these woods. I only ever have to win once."
"That's fine. I agree to your terms."
The Autumn King extended his hand to you, and you shook on it.

He nodded towards the boulder once more.
"As you've no doubt noticed, there is a large plate, a medium plate and a small plate. When you serve the bread, the large plate must have more rolls on it than the medium plate, and the medium plate must have more than the small plate."
You cast your eye over the bread rolls. Six of them. Well, that was easy! Three on the big plate, two on the medium, one on the small! It was hardly worth listening to the other rules.
"You can't cut any up. Whole rolls only. You can't eat or otherwise dispose of any either. You have one minute to set out the portions. Starting... now."

As quick as a flash, the Autumn King snatched up a bread roll and stuffed it under his skull helm. You stared at the crumbs dropping to the boulder. What the fuck was he doing?
"Is there a problem?" he asked around a mouthful of bread.
"You're eating them!"
"I am. I never said I couldn't change the number of bread rolls. You don't have time to waste on arguing."

You returned your attention to the plates, your bravado deflating as you cast your eye over what was left. Five rolls between three plates. The largest plate had to have the most, and the smallest plate the least. You couldn't use fractions, and you couldn't use less than five. Was the secret to leave the smallest plate empty? You set three rolls on the big plate and two on the medium. That met all the requirements, right?

"Is an empty plate a portion?" the Autumn King asked. The mockery in his tone clearly indicated it wasn't. "Don't risk offending the Folk by giving them no bread."

Okay, the smallest plate needed bread too. You put one roll there - the very minimum the game's rules would allow, and all that'd even fit on the tiny thing. Two rolls on the medium plate. The final two rolls on the big plate. That was all you could do. If the Autumn King hadn't eaten that last roll, you'd have put it on the large plate and won. There had to be a way to solve it. The Fae loved tricking humans, but while stacking the odds heavily against you was fine, there was no satisfaction in setting a challenge that was impossible to win. Your minute was running out. You looked over each of the plates. The small and medium were fine. Only the large plate posed a problem. You needed to get more bread there, but moving it around would just mess up the other plates. ...Aha!

You put the small plate on top of the large plate. The Autumn King tilted his head this way and that, his confusion clear even from below the elk skull.
"You never said I couldn't move the plates," you explained. "There's three rolls on the large plate, if you include the one on the small plate. Two on the medium plate, and one on the small plate."
"...I suppose you solved it," he murmured. "Well, a deal's a deal, and I honour my word. You're free to leave this place, and I must serve you in any way you desire until you do. What would you ask of me?"
You looked him over as you let your mind flood with fantasies. The memory of the prize you'd claimed the last time you outsmarted him. The kinds of thoughts you'd had about him ever since, the thoughts that had driven you back here to seek him out once more. "I want to sit on you."
Whatever the Autumn King had expected, it was not that. The spots of eyeshine flickered as he blinked at you.
"You want to do what?" he asked under his breath.
"You need to learn a little humility. You thought yourself too clever for me, and it's coming back to bite you. Maybe you're a king to your people, but for me you're going to be a chair."
You bundled up the ropes from your bag and pointed at the ground. With a sigh, the Autumn King sat before you.
"How am I to be positioned?"
He was so big that if you ordered him onto all fours, you'd practically have to climb up him. You needed him closer to the ground somehow.
"Take off your robe and curl up on your front, with your knees and elbows tucked in. I'll tie you in place. You won't be able to move at all - is that okay?"
"It is what my temporary mistress demands of me," he grumbled, but a little smirk sparkled in his voice.

As he curled into position, you crouched beside the elk skull.
"I won't be muzzling you," you whispered to him, pressing his wrists together and binding them. "You'll still be able to use your safe words. 'Red' to stop, 'yellow' if you want something changing, okay?"
"I know, my Lady," he whispered back.

Slipping back into character, you tied his ankles together, then fed some rope around one knee and one elbow. You left his robe draped over him, but found that - like you - he was wearing little underneath it. Your fingers trailed through thick, silky fur as you tethered his elbow and knee together. With each knot, you were careful to leave the rope just loose enough to slip two fingers under. Any change of colour in his skin would have warned you you'd bound him too tight for too long, but you had no chance of seeing it through so much fur. You had to rely on him telling you if he was in any pain or discomfort. The knife in your bag was in case you had to cut him free in an emergency, although you hoped it wouldn't come to that.

Once you'd tied him at the other side, you stood to admire your work. The Autumn King was curled on the ground before you, each limb bound to the next. If it wasn't for his tail poking out from under his robe, swishing lazily back and forth, he might have looked like one of his bread rolls. You took the middle plate - you'd already trussed up their King, no point offending the Folk even further by eating their bread - and clambered on top of him. He wasn't as high as he would have been on all fours, but he was no less majestic for being easier to reach. You got yourself comfortable on his back and sank your teeth into a bread roll. The Autumn King's back was so broad that you actually had room to lie down, and so you sprawled across him, propped up on one elbow as you ate, savouring the luxury of it all. You patted him between his shoulders.

"At least you make good bread," you told him.
His tail shook in a limp wag below his robe, and you giggled. Your fingers sank into the springhare cloak as you stroked across the back of his shoulders. It didn't compare to the Autumn King's own fur, of course.
"Give me a minute, then we'll see about improving my chair."
"You dare call me an unsatisfactory chair now?"
"Just a little. But we'll sort it. Let me finish this first."

You polished off the second roll then slid off the Autumn King's back. He watched you, silvery eyes shining through the darkness of the elk skull as you untied each knot in turn and slipped the ropes free. What you had planned for him next would be much more difficult with him tied up in a ball.

"First off, we need to get rid of this tacky blanket someone's left on my chair. It's already so nicely upholstered that adding a blanket spoils it."
You took hold of the springhare-paw clasp. If it was creepy before, being close enough to see all the detail in it - the way the toes and claws locked together - was even worse. Still, you unhooked the paws and began to slide the Autumn King's robes off his shoulders. He joined in, shrugging the cloak off in a most obliging way. Now there was the soft fur you remembered so fondly from last time. Acres of it, vibrant as flames under the moonlight, exposed for your enjoyment. You drank in the sight as you tipped him onto his back and trailed your fingers through his coat, from his stomach up to his chest, towards the scar that still choked you up if you thought too long about it. Merely having you sit on his back had been enough to excite him. The tip of his cock, red-pink and slightly glossy, poked out from his sheath. You laughed under your breath.

"Cute. The Autumn King secretly likes being a throne, doesn't he?"
"I don't recommend baiting me, human. I'll remember it the next time you're foolish enough to trespass in my woods."
"Whatever. Lie still and be a good chair, like you're supposed to."
You discarded your skirt and dropped to a kneel that straddled his chest, keeping your hips raised to avoid pressing on his scar. You scooted forward on your knees until you hovered over his muzzle.
"Take that skull off. You're not a King here; you don't need your crown."

Grumbling something under his breath, the Autumn King raised his hands to his head. He pried off the skull and set it aside. The face underneath it was that of a red wolf, finely structured and rather beautiful, with a long, slender muzzle and elegantly pointed ears. Without the shadow of the skull's sockets, it was no longer those eerie blobs of eyeshine that gazed up at you, but actual eyes the colour of honey. You ran one hand along the side of his muzzle, and just for a moment he stirred, an instinct to nuzzle into you that he only just managed to suppress.
"What a pretty face my Host has. Seems a shame to hide it away like that."

There was a kind of irony in your words when you were lowering your hips as you spoke, slowly burying his face underneath you. His muzzle slid between your thighs, the short fur brushing against your skin. Sitting on his face pushed his muzzle straight down until he had to tuck his chin into his chest. Damn it, that would probably hurt his neck if you kept him like that. Your sense of guilt forced you to lift your hips and guide his head back before trying again. This time, you sat across the underside of his muzzle. It forced his neck to arch back, his head pressing hard into the ground. Nope, that was out too. You'd feared as much when you discussed this scene before, but he'd still wanted to try it. You raised your hips and pushed his head to one side, but sitting along the side of his muzzle was flat-out impossible. Not comfortable at all for you, and every position you put him in risked injuring his neck.
"Sorry," you whispered, breaking character once more. "I don't think I can sit on your face without hurting you."
"Ah, you win some, you lose some," Faolán whispered back. "I can still eat you out."
"Thanks. You're a good boy."
At least he didn't seem too disappointed that the shape of his head prevented you from sitting on his face properly. As he'd said, it didn't stop him from going down on you. And you could still be a little rough on him, smother him with your pussy like he wanted - you just had to take his muzzle into account.

You tried to straddle his face once more, but he cleared his throat and made a spinning gesture with his finger.
"You want me to turn around?"
He nodded. You scooted back and turned yourself so that you faced towards his feet.
"If you want me to get up, tap my leg twice," you reminded him as you knelt over his head once more.
His hands skimmed over your thighs. "Will do."
"You ready to keep going, Faol?"
He huffed. A hot puff of breath tickled your skin. "Your pussy's not going to eat itself."
You snorted as you tried to rid yourself of that mental image and slip back into character. Right. Human who's just outwitted a Faerie King and is teaching him his place. Go.

You lowered your hips and found the Autumn King's mouth faster than you'd anticipated. He must have raised his head, eager to make contact. You kept sinking, forcing him to lower himself back to the ground. Once it would go no further, you closed your thighs around his head. Enough for your legs to envelop each side of his muzzle, but without forcing his neck into an unnatural position. His tongue darted out and lapped along your folds, sending a jolt of pleasure through you and snatching a gasp from your throat.
"Fuck, you really did want to be a chair, didn't you? I noticed you leaning in, trying to bury your face in me before I'd even sat down."
There was a muffled sound of assent from between your legs as he nuzzled into you, his teeth scraping over your skin as he slipped his tongue between your folds and sought out your clit.
"Bit embarrassing for you, isn't it?" you teased. "The mighty Autumn King, going around ensnaring humans to serve in his Court, when really all he wants to do is serve them, isn't it? He just wants to get used for someone else's pleasure."
His tail fluttered at that, and your grin widened.
"See? You're wagging at the thought of it! Is that why you challenge me to such easy games? Because you're too proud to ask me to treat you like a sex toy?"
He mumbled something into your flesh, his lips and tongue moving against you with each word, his voice vibrating in the most delicious way. You paused. Was he about to tap your thigh? But he didn't - whatever his reply, it wasn't asking you to climb off him. So you doubled down, grinding against his face as best you could. He purred against your pussy, his tongue trailing back and forth along your sensitive flesh.
"You're actually getting off on this...!"
It was true. He had only been half-hard before, with little more than the tip protruding, but now more of it had emerged from the sheath - enough for his cock to lay heavily against his stomach. You giggled. Once or twice you even thought you saw a little throbbing twitch to it.
"Oh, that's so cute... The King really is just a submissive little pussy-licker who loves being used like the object he is..."

You gave an experimental thrust against his face. Your knees almost buckled at the surge of sensation that rippled through you at the increase of pressure, and his lustful rumble sharpened from between your legs. Okay, it was safe to rub yourself on him. Not only safe, but pleasurable. Still, you took care not to go too fast or too rough. The last thing he needed was a broken nose. You rocked back and forth, grinding yourself against his mouth, feeling your heartbeat spike as that long flat tongue lapped at your wetness.

"Such a good Host..." you purred, leaning forward and setting your hands on his chest to keep yourself steady, running your fingers through that glorious fur. "This is... exactly the kind of hospitality I had in mind...."
His hands roamed across the back of your thighs, but you felt no tap to signal a break. Instead, he cupped your thighs and pushed you against his face.

"You were right, you know... I trespassed on p-purpose, naked below my skirt, because I knew I'd be putting you in your place b-before long... And I'll do it as much as I want, you hear me? Not - not to harm your forest, or threaten your Folk - just t-to treat you the way you need to be treated -"

Your lover knew exactly what he was doing. He had plenty of experience in eating you out, he knew exactly how and where you liked his attentions, and he genuinely enjoyed the act. It wouldn't take him long to bring you off at all, especially when each thrust of your hips rubbed his tongue and mouth against your flesh. You lowered your hips as far as you dared, well and truly smothering the front of his muzzle, and were rewarded by his tongue slipping deep inside you to worship your most sensitive spots.

His grip on your thighs tightened until his claws threatened to draw blood. Still no tapping. You knew how your half-wolf loved to cling to you, especially when he was excited. Which he was - his cock was still hard on his stomach, the tip sparkling with a drop of precum. He hadn't touched himself once - it was purely his service to you that had turned him on so thoroughly. That knowledge stoked the fire that was already blazing inside you, the tension that spread through your body as his talented tongue continued to ravish your pussy. Your thighs clamped around his muzzle, and you had to brace your arms to stop them from slipping down his chest as you came. Perhaps the words tumbling out of your mouth were his true name, or the Autumn King, or even Host. Whatever they were, they disappeared along with the rest of the world in those blissful few seconds of release.
As soon as you came back to your senses, you released your grasp on his fur and parted your legs. Faolán ducked his head and took a deep breath. Poor dear, you really had been suffocating him for a few seconds. You watched him in concern. The wide grin that he gave you in return, plus the sound of his tail thrashing in the grass, suggested he didn't mind it at all, and you relaxed enough to match his smile.

"That was... that was good, Faol. You've served well."
With those words, your scene came to an end.

Faolán helped you to lie down beside him and you nestled closed to each other. His fur was so soft and warm that you could have fallen asleep against him there and then. Instead, you reached for your bag and retrieved the brush and comb. They'd been a fun little project to practice your woodwork. Faolán took great care of his fur, and he loved to be groomed no matter who held the brush. Brushing him had long been part of your aftercare, a soothing activity for the both of you to wind down.

"Did you enjoy that, Faol?" you asked as you began to brush him.
"It goes without saying," he purred back, eyes already closing in bliss. "Thanks for agreeing to it. I didn't hurt you when I threw you, right?"
"Nah, you were pretty gentle with it. Sorry I couldn't sit on you properly. I know we didn't think it'd work, but still, I wish I could manage it."
"I already said not to worry about it, my Lady. Kneeling over my head works just as well. How about you, did you like it?"
"Most of it. Being mean to you took some getting used to."
"Oh, were you being mean, my Lady? I've had worse savaging from a springhare."
"Hm."

Faolán had wanted you to try being a little rougher with him this time, a little more mocking. That kind of talk didn't come naturally to you, but you'd hoped that he'd enjoy it at least. Your disappointment must have shown in your face, because his expression softened and he pulled you into a hug. You snuggled into his chest, winding your arms around his back.

"I didn't mean that how it sounded. I liked what you said, truly I did. All I meant to say was I'd let you go further with it."
"I don't think I'd want to go much further, if I'm honest. I just don't have the knack for it that you do."
He chuckled as he nuzzled under your chin. "You've always been too good to me."
"None of that. You know how much I love you."
The nuzzle turned to a gentle kiss on your jawline. "I love you too, my Lady."
"We have a few hours yet, right?"

These moonlit interludes were all you and Faolán had. By day, your parents kept you apart unless your shadow was serving you - in a non-sexual sense, of course. If Faolán wasn't being useful, then your parents preferred to keep him shut away in his room. It was only at night that you and he could slip out into the forest. The years of nocturnal escapades had forged your childhood friendship and, eventually, love.

"A few hours," he confirmed. "What do you want to do now?"
"Finish brushing you, get you off -" You nodded towards his still-hard cock, and he grinned. " - share the rest of the bread, then we'll see how much time is left."

One day you'd be free. Free of all the nonsense your family tried to impose on you just because you were an Empyrean. Free to make your own decisions and shape your own life, free to bring your love for Faolán out into the sunlight. That day couldn't come soon enough, but you weren't able to break away just yet. The two of you had to wait it out for a little longer. But there was still a bit of time left before you had to go home and snatch a bit of sleep, just enough that neither of you drew attention by being groggy the next day. You had a few more hours of Faolán, a few hours of night to be spent as you longed to spend your days.

Chapter Text

"Let me be sure I heard this right." Blaidd scratched his chin. "The two of you, you used to... pretend to be faeries, and have sex...?"
"Only Faolán pretended to be a faerie. I was always the human wanderer who outsmarted him."
"But - you really did this?" A pair of lavender eyes, already bright from the campfire's reflection and now glittering with questions, stared at you and your shadow in turn. "How...?"
"It's simple," Faolán interrupted. "I put my costume on and set up a challenge, my Lady comes along and solves it, and so she gets to f-"
"That's not what I meant," Blaidd muttered into his mug of tea. "What I mean is, how did this start? Where did such a idea come from?"
"Faolán and I used to play a lot of make-believe as kids."

Just as the forest had once been a refuge for you and Faolán from your parents' judgement, the games you played in childhood grew up with you, morphing into a way that let you explore your feelings towards each other without bringing them into the open. You were both shy about falling in love for the first time, both fearful of how the other would react to a confession, to say nothing of what your parents would think. You hadn't realised that Faolán was even shyer - if you'd known that he felt unworthy of you, you'd have corrected him in a heartbeat. The usual rules didn't apply in a game, though. You left behind your old selves and threw yourselves into worlds where it was acceptable for you to show love. If your imaginations cast you as a pair of sweethearts separated by a raging river - in reality, a creek barely deep enough to wet your knees - then surely it made sense for you to kiss when you were finally reunited, right?
The two of you hid behind such games for over a year before you finally acknowledged what you felt for each other. Even once the two of you were as openly in love as you could be, the games kept on. They were the means by which you pushed the boundaries of your relationships, testing the water in fantasy before you admitted that you wanted to take things further. They were how you noticed a particular interest of Faolán's. Many of the games he suggested wound up with him at your mercy. His character ended up the hostage held by your highwayman, the heretic interrogated by your Confessor, the robber you'd managed to turn the tables on. If it wasn't for such games, you may not have found how much you enjoyed dominating him, or how much he loved submitting.

Blaidd still wore a frown of scepticism even as he chugged his tea. What, had he never played a game in his life? His life had been very different from your own shadow's. He'd sworn himself to his Lady Ranni in his heart long before he'd made his oath of loyalty. You could see the little knight-to-be devoting himself to his duty since birth, trailing around after an infant Ranni armed with the largest stick he could carry.

"Don't tell me you never played make-believe. You and Ranni never pretended you were faeries or, I don't know... pirates, dragons maybe...?"
Blaidd paused for a moment before his mouth quirked into the hint of a smile.
"We had no need to pretend about faeries, at least. My stepbrother had one for a playmate."
"Are you serious...?" You scanned his face for any sign of mockery, but found none. Blaidd was not the type to lie, and poking fun in such a way wasn't his style either. Still, faeries were real in the Lands Between? Like, actual beings?
"A black kitten came to Radahn one day," he continued. "We knew she was a faerie by her tail - no ordinary cat had a tail twice the length of their body, but Lacrima did. That was the name Radahn gave her. We used to play in Raya Lucaria sometimes, so we'd smuggle her in with us. At first we thought Mother might turn us out if she discovered Lacrima, but in truth she was delighted. There were mice in the Library, you see, nibbling on the tomes. Lacrima had a certain... peculiarity, however. She loved to fly but could not, so instead she loved to leap. She threw herself off the bell tower and clambered back up, completely unharmed. That's the other way we knew she was a faerie. When she grew up, she climbed the Erdtree itself and jumped from its branches."

You tried to visualise a cat throwing itself off the top of the Erdtree. Okay, you'd had your doubts at first, but Lacrima had to be a faerie or something. It was hard to come to any other conclusion. Only a magical creature would have survived such a fall. Imagine having a real faerie as a playmate, though! Maybe such things happened because Blaidd's family was steeped in magic. His stepmother and stepsister were both powerful witches, and he had a sorcerer's academy for a playground. Your mind conjured up an image of a young Blaidd and his siblings letting Lacrima loose in the Grand Library - a black kitten bouncing from shelf to shelf, tail streaming behind her like a comet as she launched herself from the tallest shelves to pounce on a mouse skittering across the floor.

"She sounds a lot of fun -"
"Did you ever go full dog and chase her?" Faolán cut in.
Blaidd glared at him, and you tried to hold back a snort.
"Never. She was no mere cat. She was... 'pet' doesn't feel like the right word - more a companion of Radahn's. She tolerated the rest of us well enough, but she only truly bonded with Radahn. He always had a way with animals. But when he never returned from his battle against the Goddess of Rot, Lacrima vanished. The last I heard, scholars still catch glimpses of a long-tailed creature vaulting from the bell tower. Lady Ranni and I have never seen her since Radahn left, nor been able to call her to us. We suspect that only Radahn can summon her once more."
What a strange story, and what a shame to think of poor Lacrima, waiting alone at the top of the Academy for her friend to return.
"Maybe he'll come back one day?"
"What is left of him is not Radahn," Blaidd said quietly. "He will never come back."

Well, that put quite a dampener on the mood. A gloom seemed to settle over the campfire. You'd swear even the flames had dimmed. Even though Blaidd's tone was neutral, it was a scab that had formed over a wound. He had accepted it and moved on, but the pain was still there below the surface. You stared into your cooling mug of tea. What you knew of the Shattering was seen through the eyes of the Tarnished, passed down by generations of your people in exile. You didn't know much about what had gone on in the Lands Between after your ancestors had been driven from it. From the little Blaidd had shared, it seemed that demigods were no less immune than humans to the suffering left in the Shattering's wake. You leaned across and took hold of Blaidd's hand. He squeezed your fingers. Your hand practically disappeared in his grasp, enveloped in warm fur.

"Did Lacrima ever curse anyone?" your shadow suddenly asked.
You blinked. "What kind of question is that, Faol?"
"Not to my knowledge." Even Blaidd wore a confused frown.
"Oh, thank feck for that! I always figured that if there was such a thing as an Autumn King, he'd have cursed me and my Lady for taking his likeness in vain."
"We didn't base him on any specific character," you added for Blaidd's benefit. "Just the general tales my village told, of forest guardians and the like. The Autumn King and the Autumn Court are just things Faol and I made up."
"Well, Lacrima was a playful spirit. She may have taken offence if someone pretended to be her, but she would probably have joined in if Radahn had played at being a faerie." Blaidd glanced across at Faolán. "The kind of thing you do is another matter."
"Come on, where's your sense of fun? Of adventure?"
"Walking around in an elk skull, casting glamours upon the land, creating puzzles so that your Empyrean will sit on you - that's what passes for adventure in your life, is it?"
"You're only jealous because you've never tried it! We just thought that since you're one of us now, you might like to join in, but if Mr. Big Knight is going to act like he's too grown-up for our games, just so nobody figures out he has no imagination..."
"I do have an imagination," Blaidd protested. "I just don't use it for faerie-shagging."
"And that's why your life is shite." Faolán grinned at him. "Come on, don't knock it until you try it."
"Only if you want to try it," you interrupted. "You don't have to."
"You don't," the red wolf agreed. "But I'll be doing it again whether you join in or not. It's been too long; I miss it."
"Would I..." Blaidd eyed your shadow's bag, where he no doubt expected to see an elk antler poking out. "Would I be expected to dress up?"

It looked like you'd piqued his interest, even if he was still cautious about it. The grey wolf was already one of the bravest people you knew, yet you and Faolán had drawn out his confidence in other ways. He was certainly more talkative these days. He even met some of your shadow's quips head-on. You were glad they got along better than they used to, and if you were honest you enjoyed the banter.

"Depends what your character is, but you don't have to dress up."
"You should probably be a faerie too," Faolán pointed out. "Since you look like me, if I cut up my face and forgot how to wash."
"Elk skull and all?"
"The elk skull is mine. I'm the King, that's my crown. I might have something you can borrow, though."

Was that a visible sigh of relief from Blaidd? A little weight seemed lifted from his shoulders. The poor guy must have dreaded running around with a skull on his head. It wouldn't have been likely that Blaidd would get one anyway. Faolán's elk skull was about a decade old. Your shadow had been hunting for meat, and the elk he felled was such a magnificent specimen that he'd kept the skull as a trophy. It was only later, after the Autumn King games began, that the skull became part of his regalia. In the same way, the King's robe had been made of pelts left over from hunts. It wasn't like the two of you went out slaughtering animals just so you had costumes to fuck in, and you weren't about to start for Blaidd either.
Did Faolán actually have anything suitable to lend Blaidd? Nothing sprang to mind, but you appreciated his offer. It was just another sign that your shadow had truly accepted Blaidd as a member of your party and a companion in your bed, even if the two of them - Faolán in particular - still took shots at one another.

The three of you had spent the last few weeks trekking through Limgrave and Liurnia, the region that Blaidd called home. You'd sought an audience with Lady Ranni, Blaidd's Empyrean, to ask whether her shadow could accompany you on your quest for the Elden Ring. Things had been tense at first. The Lunar Princess was your opposite in every way. Demure and dignified, the personification of still waters running deep. At times you thought she'd never approve of you. Nobody had accounted for Faolán, however. Nobody, especially not an incredulous Blaidd, had expected Ranni to be quite so charmed by your own shadow. But he was skilled in dancing the line of proper behaviour, always stopped just short of real offence, and his cheek had actually made Ranni smile. It might even have been because of Faolán that Ranni finally assented to let her shadow join you.
Now the three of you were back in Limgrave. Not far from the northern edge of the Mistwood, to be accurate. You had unfinished business in these parts. Unclaimed Great Runes, and rumour had it that the Grand Lift of Dectus that separated Liurnia from the northern reaches of the Lands Between required a medallion, the pieces of which were said to be hidden in the forts of the south.

"So what kind of faerie do you want to be?"
The grey wolf mulled over Faolán's question.
"...I don't know," came the eventual reply.
Faolán rolled his eyes. "You don't have to be a faerie. A tree stump might be easier."
"I don't want to be a tree stump. But a large, flamboyant character such as your Autumn King is beyond me."
"And it'd clash with the Autumn King anyway," you added. "The two of you would probably not get along. Unless that's the dynamic you want?"
"I would rather my first role be a simple one. I'm a stranger to this, after all."
"Let's establish what his character is doing there in the first place, and then figure out his personality later," Faolán suggested.

And so, as the campfire flickered and flared between you, you and your lovers spent the evening crafting Blaidd's Fae persona. Faolán had always had a flair for the dramatic, but it turned out that Blaidd had some appreciation for theatre and storytelling as well. It took a little coaxing, but soon he was thoroughly invested in the universe you and Faolán had created - particularly when your shadow made some outrageous suggestion for Blaidd's character just to wind him up. You gave Faolán a discreet grin, and he ducked his muzzle to return it. Seeing the grey wolf enjoy himself was something to be treasured, and it had been Faolán who'd steered the conversation away from Radahn's fate and engrossed Blaidd in the roleplay. Your shadow would always have your gratitude for that.
Even after the topic turned to what prize you would claim if - or when - you bested the Autumn King, Blaidd remained on board. He was a little nervous, of course. What you proposed was something the two of you had only done once before. Faolán, on the other hand, wagged like his tail was trying to churn butter. He'd always loved the act you suggested; there was no question of him refusing. And despite his apprehension, Blaidd too had assented. By the time the three of you settled down for bed, with you sandwiched between the enormous furry bodies of the shadows in the manner you so often slept in these days, every last detail had been ironed out. You only hoped to prove Blaidd's trust in you was well-placed. As long as all three of you enjoyed both the roleplay and the reward, you were happy.

Chapter Text

You didn't know whether the fences weaving across the terrain were meant to keep something inside the forest or to keep it out. Whatever their purpose, the ramshackle things were long past serving it. They stood battered and broken, lopsided and crusted with lichen. One good push in the right place would knock them flat. You squeezed through the gap between them and continued your journey through the Mistwood. What a different atmosphere this place had to the forests of your youth! The broken-down fences erected by long-dead hands, patchy dirt paths trodden by generations of feet. Some said that a few miles into the woods lay ruins so old, so ravaged by time, that nobody could even guess what they'd once been. All over the place lay traces of human handiwork that the forest was taking back. As for you, you were more interested in what called the Mistwood home at present than whoever did in the past. In a few months this pocket of wilderness would be a forager's dream. Even now, the gold-leaved trees stood guard over treasures. Herbs and flowers packed with medicinal qualities. Wild vegetables, and blossoms that promised fruit in the autumn. All you had to do was find them.

Admittedly, you'd not chosen the best time to forage. It had been dusk when you approached the Mistwood. The washed-out sky swirled with specks of darkness; a flock of birds looking for a place to roost. Now, the fog swallowed up what little light was left. It clung to the trees and swept through the open spaces to hide where the land rose in cliffs and toppled walls, or sank into ditches. You weren't sure whether the dimness you squinted through was the last of the sunlight or the weak glow of the moon.

Pausing beside a bush, you stooped to inspect its flowers. Poor as the light was, there was no mistaking the luxurious bulk of petals that formed each rose, but it was the scent of copper wafting from each that confirmed they were Bloodroses. Valuable to those who used blood magics, although not for the kinds of crafts you favoured. That smell, and the deep red petals that seemed almost black now, were a result of the shrub's roots feeding from blood-soaked soil. This spot had seen death. A branch snapped under the weight of an unseen foot. Your head shot up and you scanned your surroundings as best you could. The sound had come from somewhere in the mist-veiled distance, but still close enough to worry you. This part of Limgrave was notorious for bears. You moved on, keeping to the cover of the undergrowth where there was enough to hide in. You didn't fancy becoming food for either a Runebear or a Bloodrose.

The Mistwood closed around you as you ventured into its heart. The thickening fog stripped the colour out of the horizon, smearing everything beyond the nearest tree trunks into a wall of grey. A well-trodden path weaved through the forest but you preferred to roam where the grass brushed your shins, although you kept an eye on the track to guide your way. Forests did not give up their secrets to any idle passer-by. If you wanted a successful forage, sometimes you had to stray from the path.

Each step rustled through the long grass. You lingered for a better look at some fungus growing from a tree's trunk, stopping in place - but the sound of footsteps continued. Someone else, only a few feet behind you. You looked over your shoulder, your heart seeming to pound in your throat and cut off your breath. ...Nobody there? There was nothing but golden trees melting into the mist, tangles of grass rising to meet it. Perhaps your mind was simply playing tricks on you. This had not been a good idea at all. Next time, you would come while the sun still shone. You began to turn towards the fungus once more, and something moved. A blur of motion streaked across the corner of your eye. You craned your neck and stared. Something darted behind a tree, something tall and human-like. Whatever it was, it couldn't have been what you'd heard. The sound had been close behind you. The movement came from much further back, almost part of the blanket of fog. What the fuck was going on? Drawing your dagger, you stalked towards the tree, but froze as the footfalls resumed behind you. You glanced back to see nothing at all. The grass swept against your ankles as you all but ran for the tree and circled it, knife in hand. There was nobody there no matter where you looked, not even up in the branches. This was getting weird now. Nobody could have vanished like that without magic.Did faeries haunt the Mistwood, just as they prowled the forests of your homeland?
The footsteps followed you as soon as you began to walk, and fell silent when you stopped. Or one of them did. For when you froze suddenly, you noted a scuffing noise a split second after the first ceased, slightly off time. One person stopping just after another. You had two people following you.

Hearing yourself being followed was one thing, but you soon found there was something worse. The rustles of grass, the tread of shoes on the earth faded away into the Mistwood - and yet the prickling sensation on the back of your neck told you that you were still being watched. Your pursuers were still there, and now you had no idea where they were. With only the sounds of the night around you, your imagination painted danger in every shadow.

A tree loomed above you, larger than its neighbours, its branches spread wide like the arms of a waiting mother. You sat in its shade and tried to collect your thoughts. You had two people - if they were people, anyway - tailing you. You had no idea what they wanted from you. Should you run, or was it safer to attack? Strange as their behaviour was, they had done nothing more than follow you, nothing that told you whether they meant you harm or not. If it was faeries after all, brandishing a weapon at them was the last thing you'd ever do in this world. You tucked your knife into your palm. Hidden from view, yet already in hand if you needed it.
Wait, was that... music? You peered up into the tree. From among its branches trickled such delicate, quivering notes that they had to be of unearthly origin. You knew faerie music when you heard it. Too sweet for a guitar. A harp or a lyre, most likely. The branches quaked above your head, creaking and rustling as if caught in an unseen storm. You leapt to your feet just as two shapes burst from among the leaves and plummeted to the ground, one to each side of you. You pushed past one of them. A hand seized your shoulder, hard enough to make you wince, and yanked you back between them. The figure had stooped to grab you, and now it straightened up you saw just how much bigger than you both of them were. There was no way they were human. Your belief was confirmed when you looked to their faces. On one, you made out the silhouette of a long muzzle and a pair of pointed ears, while the other - the other wore an elk's skull, its antlers draped with tatters of glowing moss. You'd know him anywhere. But how was this possible...?

"You're far from your home, aren't you?" you asked, your tone braver than you felt. "I didn't expect to meet you in these parts."
You pocketed your knife and the Autumn King took your hand. Even as he pulled your arm as far over your head as it would go, he still had to bow his head in order to kiss your hand.
"The territory of the Highborn Folk is ever-changing. Your kind comes and goes. We are driven back in some places, and reclaim what we can in others."
He cast a critical look over you. His eyes gleamed as spots of white from within the skull's sockets.
"I must say," he continued, "what a poor greeting from an old friend! But humans are so often remiss in their manners. I'm almost ashamed to meet you in front of my companion. Introduce yourself to him, at the very least."
The self-proclaimed ruler of your home village's woodland was as guileful as ever. But you, of course, were wise to his tricks. You weren't about to give up your name, or your power, that easily.
"Oh, I'm only your humble guest. Hardly worth mentioning in front of fine beings like yourselves. Who is your friend, anyway?"

The second faerie stared at you in silence. He was at once very similar and very different from the Autumn King. The King wore the dead of the forest, his wild nature reflected in the antlered skull and claw-hooked robe. The newcomer, on the other hand, dressed in such a deep black that he might have faded into the shadows at any moment. Leather trousers hugged his thighs, and the shirt under his form-fitting doublet was finely embroidered. He stood a mite taller than the already vast King, and he had no mask behind which to hide. His face was a noble one, and almost handsome, but it was hard to ignore the scar that tore across his cheek and weighed one purplish eye down into a squint. The more you looked, the more scars you noticed. His grey fur was crusted with the wounds of a hundred battles. Perhaps the sleek elegance of his garments only made his fur look even shabbier. Something was draped around his neck, and you stood on tiptoe for a better look. A string of pebbles. Some of them shone with a soft blue light that reflected off their oddly glossy neighbours. The glowing ones were chips of glintstone, you realised, and the others were... Your eyes widened. The rest of the necklace was not stones, but teeth. Wide, flat teeth of herbivores strung beside fangs that had once torn through flesh, and even a few clusters of teeth so tiny they might have come from rodents.

"The Silver Fang is the name you may know him by," the Autumn King replied.
The Silver Fang bowed his head, and you held your hand out to him. He took hold of it, and a cold nose snuffled at your skin before he too kissed your hand.
"It's nice to meet you, Silver Fang. Your King's never introduced me to another of the Folk before."
"Well, I wouldn't. The last time we met, he was not part of my Court. He is a recent addition -"
"I was stolen."

You almost jumped at the suddenness with which the new faerie spoke. His voice was smooth and velvety, yet a snarl underpinned every word. The Autumn King's head turned sharply towards his liege. The moss swung from his antlers, light and shadow flicking across the skull with the movement.

"You were acquired from the Winter Court."
"I was stolen," the Silver Fang insisted.
"You were acquired from the Winter Court, fair and square. You serve me now, and you would do well to accept it!"
It was impossible for Fae to lie, even to each other. Each of them had to be telling the truth as they saw it. The Silver Fang had been obtained against his wishes, and the Autumn King believed it to be justified.
"Did you lose one of the Autumn King's games?" you asked him.
His head drooped, and his answer was little more than a murmur on the breeze.
"He rigged it. He tricked me into swearing myself to him. I didn't understand the game, and I still don't."
"If you don't understand it, that's your problem!" the Autumn King snapped. "Now don't talk so disrespectfully of your new King, or all the Winter Court will get back of you is your hide."

The Silver Fang wasn't part of the Autumn Court at all. No wonder he presented himself so differently. That wasn't the important thing here, though. You'd heard of faeries kidnapping humans, but never their fellow Fae. The poor guy radiated misery.

"Why did you..." You considered your words carefully. Best not to offend the King. "...acquire him?"
"Because his brain is cut out not for thinking, but for hunting. He's one of the finest huntsmen the Folk have ever seen, and yet the Winter Court didn't make full use of his skills. For the kind of prey I have in mind, I needed him more."
"And what's your prey?"
The word 'prey' already gave you a bad feeling, but a chill ran through you at the Autumn King's next words.
"I mean to revive the Wild Hunt." He lifted his mask enough to expose his muzzle. His lips curled back in a grin that held no joy, only rows of bared fangs. "Your kind no longer fear or respect us. You don't heed the old customs. You destroy our homes and our lands with no thought for us, no apology, no recompense. You only take, never give. If the humans will not give us bread, then they will be our meat."

Your breath caught in your throat and you must have paled, for his mirthless grin widened. It was bad enough when he and his kin spirited away anyone who stumbled across them, but now the Autumn King wanted to go even further. He wanted to actively hunt humans. He wanted to feast on their flesh as punishment for the wrongs inflicted on his kind. Did he make a valid point? You supposed he did. Would the Wild Hunt make things better for anyone? No, it would just destroy any chance of the humans and Fae rebuilding their old relationship. You couldn't let him get away with this! The Silver Fang was the key to it all. You had to free him. Not only to stop the Wild Hunt - although there was definitely that aspect as well - but for his own sake. There was no question that the grey faerie was being held against his will.

"And what if I wanted to stop the Wild Hunt?"
"You don't have that power."
"Are you willing to bet on it?"
The Autumn King's ears pricked up.
"I assume you're going to challenge me to a game for trespassing in another of your forests, right?" you continued.
"You know me too well, my dear."
"Don't do it -" the Silver Fang began, but you held up a hand to silence him.
"I want to add to our usual conditions. Let's put the Silver Fang in the prize pot, and the Wild Hunt with it. If you win the game, both of us will be part of the Autumn Court. But if I win, the Silver Fang belongs to me, and I'll return him to the Winter Court."
"You - you're trying to free me, human...?" he breathed, his tail wagging across his ankles.
"You think your kind hasn't taken enough from me already? Now you want the Silver Fang too?" the Autumn King growled. "My Master of the Wild Hunt, my Royal Huscarl, my Court Jester?"
The other faerie blinked at him. "Am I not just the huntsman and huscarl? Nobody said I was a jester too."
"I thought your performances would be more natural if you weren't told."
"What do you mean by 'performances'? I've done little more than speak to you..."
The King's only response was to pat him on the shoulder.
"Anyway!" he barked, ignoring the glare the Silver Fang aimed at his hand. "I don't accept your terms." The familiar eyeshine twinkled from the depths of the skull's sockets. "I will not release him for one measly game. If you truly wish to see him free, you will have to meet with me ten times and win ten games. And if you lose any along the way, not only will the Silver Fang serve me forever, but so will you. And my uses for you may not be as kind as they might once have been."
You squinted at him. "So you're saying you want me to come and find you nine more times? I thought you hated humans in your woods."
"I'll admit that I've enjoyed the entertainment you bring. Do try and win if you value your life as well as his. It would be a shame to eat you when you've given me such diversion in the past."
He crouched beside you and lifted his elk skull just enough for him to lick your cheek. "Although from the times you've claimed use of my mouth as your prize, I'd say your flesh would be a delicacy. If you lose, I'll make sure that you grace no plate but mine."

You stepped away and wiped his saliva off your face, then offered your hand for him to shake.

"To be clear - our agreement once more. If I win, I get free passage through this forest for tonight and you serve me in whatever way I wish until I leave. If I win ten games in a row, including tonight, then you relinquish the Silver Fang forever and give up on the Wild Hunt. If you win any of those ten games, you keep me and the Silver Fang."
"Oh, not quite," he retorted with a quick tilt of the head. "I know the kinds of perversions you usually ask of me. You wish to see me debased in front of my subject? I won't allow it. Whatever way you wish me to serve you, the Silver Fang must do the same."
You glanced over to the Silver Fang, and you'd swear you saw a blush rising under his patchy fur. If you were honest, you were flustered too. The Autumn King was right - you often made him pay for his folly with his body. But whatever prize you claimed from him, you'd also have to claim it from this handsome stranger.
"Um, is that okay with you?" you asked him, not quite making eye contact.
"If it will help you win my freedom, I'll do whatever you ask of me."
You turned your attention back to the Autumn King and thrust your hand towards him. "Then it's a deal."

His hand wrapped around yours for a moment, then released it. A cold light shone from between his fingers. He opened out his hand before you and a ball of blue flame unfurled like a flower, shimmering in his palm. He drew his hand away slowly and the fireball remained hanging in mid-air where he'd left it.

"These are our little flames," he told you. "We use them to find our way by night, and illuminate places that are important to us. We can direct them at will, and they melt away with the dawn's light. Perhaps you've seen them, floating between the trees, coaxing you to follow them. Or perhaps not; the humans who follow our lights tend not to return to your world. Now let's say that one night, the Silver Fang keeps watch over a clearing lit by ten flames. But humans have used their own brand of magic against us, and while it isn't strong enough to drive us away, it disrupts our magic enough that the flames don't last through the night as they should. One flame goes out every two hours. Whenever a flame goes out, the Silver Fang creates another one. Yet only the highest of Highborn Folk can cast these flames as easily as I do. The Silver Fang has no royal blood in him, as you can tell from everything about him -"
"I don't need royal blood," the Silver Fang grumbled.
"- and the field of human magic only makes it harder. It takes him three hours to create a new flame. My question is this - after twelve hours, how many flames will there be? Think it over carefully; I will only accept your first answer."

Okay, if one flame went out every two hours, then six would go out in twelve hours. That left four flames out of ten. The Silver Fang could make four more flames in twelve hours. Was that eight flames, then? No. By the sounds of it, the Silver Fang wouldn't start to conjure another flame until one had gone out. So you had to take into account those first two hours when he wouldn't be preparing a new flame. Only three more flames then. That made seven. The Autumn King tilted his head from side to side. The hem of his robe swished with his wagging tail. He must think he'd flummoxed you. Did he really think you couldn't count to twelve? Wait, twelve...? Twelve hours. In twelve hours, the number of flames would be...

"...None."
"None?" the Autumn King echoed.
You ignored the Silver Fang shaking his head and ploughed on with your answer.
"One of the first things you said is that the flames disappear at sunrise. After twelve hours, it wouldn't still be night, would it? The sun must have risen by then, so they'd all have gone out!"

Realisation dawned in the Silver Fang's face, his eyes lighting up as his frown lifted. Gods protect him, maybe he wasn't the sharpest knife in the set. Was Blaidd just keeping in character, or had Faolán's puzzle really caught him out? Either way, you couldn't resist squeezing his hand. He squeezed back. The Silver Fang may not be bright, but at least now he had you looking out for him.

The Autumn King gave a theatrical sigh.
"Well, I suppose you did it again. For another night my plate remains empty, my bed cold, my shoes unpolished. What do you want from me - us - this time?"
Oh, he was in for it now. You smirked as you slipped your knapsack from your shoulders. "Perhaps you wouldn't have agreed so readily if you'd searched my bag this time."
You reached in and held aloft a tangle of leather straps, shaking them until they fell free and revealed themselves to be a strap-on harness. The Autumn King's ears lowered, and your grin widened. He even managed to hold his tail stiff. True commitment to his persona. Out of character, the barest hint that you were going to peg him was enough to set Faolán wagging.
"What's with that look? That's not the face you made the last time I fucked you up the arse, is it?"
He gave the Silver Fang a sideways glance. "...At least he has to do it too."
"Stop pretending you don't love it."
You looked into your bag for the toy to fix into the front, but found two of them rolling about in there. The second one must have gotten in by accident. Providence had smiled upon you - now you didn't even need to worry about cleaning up before you switched partners.

You stripped from the waist down as the Autumn King threw his springhare robe to the ground. By the time you'd fastened the harness across your abdomen and buckled the straps around your thighs, the King was completely naked. The elk skull leered at you from the ground, eerier than ever with no eyeshine glowing in the sockets. The King waited for you on top of his spread robe, resting on hands and knees. His tail fell in a nonchalant arch over his back. A smear of something glistened between his legs. He must have prepared himself even before you ran into him. Did the Autumn King somehow already know what was going to happen here tonight? Well, you appreciated Faolán's thoroughness, anyway. Perhaps Blaidd was already prepared too. Would he have done it himself, or would Faolán help him...? No, not time for those sorts of thoughts. Even if he was already lubricated, you took a jar from your bag and dipped your fingers into it. You slicked up the toy strapped to your front, and slipped two fingers inside the Autumn King to give him one last stretching. He pushed his hips back against your touch, all but grinding on your hand as you spread your fingers inside him.

"Calm that down," you giggled. "You'll get something bigger when I decide you're ready. Don't forget your safewords."

He really had been thorough in his preparations. Your fingers moved inside him easily, and his muscles offered little resistance even when you made a scissoring motion. You lined yourself up with the Autumn King. Large as he was, on hands and knees his hips were almost the perfect height for you to take him while standing. You winked at the red-faced Silver Fang, who seemed to be trying to look away from the scene while still watching it.
"You can look," you reassured him. "You should see what kind of King you've wound up serving."
With one hand braced on the Autumn King's hip, you pressed forward and the tip of the toy sank into him. His spine arched on reflex, his tail quivering as you brought your hips closer and closer to his ass, the toy sliding smoothly inside him.
"There we are... That wasn't so hard, was it?"
His tawny fur tickled your skin as your hips finally met his. The toy hilted inside him as if it belonged there, and he gave a little groan. Once he'd gotten used to the sensation, you began to grind against him. Slow and gentle at first, careful to build your thrusts gradually. When the toy found just the right spot inside him, his eyes closed and his throat rumbled with the deepest purr you'd heard from him in a long time.

You'd had Faolán plenty of times; you knew how he liked it. The line between what he could handle and what he couldn't was instinctual to you by now. You gripped his hips and drove yourself harder against him. A shiver ran through his tail as you built up to the speed and force that you knew he craved. Neither too fast nor too slow, a little rough, but most of all he wanted assertion. He wanted you to claim him definitively. He wanted you to declare, without words, that he was yours. Even the Silver Fang - blushing, wide-eyed innocent as he looked - would be in no doubt of that. Not when the red wolf was presenting himself so nicely for you, growling and mewling for all to hear. You ran one hand under his abdomen and found his cock already hard. It bobbed against your touch as he pushed his hips back to meet your thrusts. The back of the harness was lined with little nubs that pressed against your pussy, and every grind of contact between the two of you drove those nubs into your flesh in the most maddeningly delicious way.

"There he is," you gasped, your hands digging into the firm flesh of his hips. "There's the true King of the Forest - the Highborn who loves bending over for me. Not much of a secret anymore, is it? It's not that you don't want your subjects to see me fucking you - it's that you don't want them to see you enjoying getting fucked by a human."

You took hold of his cock and began to jack him off roughly as you pounded him. A raspy moan burst from him, loud enough that in the corner of your eye the Silver Fang flinched. The Autumn King's chest dropped to the forest floor. Head down and ass up, his panting fluttered the edges of a few fallen leaves on the forest floor. His golden eyes were fixed on you from over his shoulder. His tongue lolled out from between his parted jaws, vibrating with each growl of pleasure. Already the base of his cock swelled between your fingers in a familiar knot.

"Harder -"
"You want it harder? Say 'please'."
His growl flared into a snarl. "You - you forget your place, human!"
"Funny... I thought you were the one bent over, n-not me..."
"Such - arrogance... Unforgivable -"
You ran your free hand through his fur and cupped his ass. "No, I won this. I won the right to fuck this nice arse of yours. And if you want the right to get off from it, you'd better remember your manners."
You slowed your thrusts and made as if to pull out. A massive hand reached back and grabbed you, his claws digging into your thigh in his desperation to keep you in place.
"Please...!" he growled.
"That's more like it."
You wrapped your hand around the base of his tail, making sure not to tug on it too hard as you fucked him to completion. His breath rasped, his chest heaved, his whole body trembled. All of a sudden he clenched so tightly that it halted you mid-thrust. His cock pulsed in your hand as he came against his own stomach. A long, low moan, with almost a howl to it, rang through the Mistwood.

You pulled out of the Autumn King and gave his rump a quick slap.
"Good boy. There's water in my bag, and tools for making a fire. Get some water boiling and clean this up, will you?"
His lip curled as you unfastened the dildo from the harness and handed it to him.
"Brew some tea as well, if you like," you added. "There's dried maythen in one of the pockets."

He took your bag wordlessly and sat to one side, where he began to pile up wood and kindling. He'd left his springhare robe on the ground for the Silver Fang. A thoughtful accident. You gestured towards it. What you could see of the Silver Fang's cheeks were flushed wine-red. He fumbled with his trousers, but managed to rid himself of them and his braies before taking his position on top of the robe. He was already nearly as hard as you'd found the Autumn King; no doubt the sight of you claiming your prize had excited him. And sure enough, he too was already lubricated. You set your hands on his hips and felt him trembling.

"Are you all right, dear?" you whispered to him. While you'd made a seasoned slut of the Autumn King, you had no idea about the Silver Fang's history. He struck you as the timid type in the bedroom, a man of little experience. And you'd only pegged Blaidd once before. Part of the joint decision that Faolán should go first was so Blaidd would see there was nothing to worry about. Hopefully the roughness with which your shadow liked it hadn't unsettled him.
He nodded.
"I'm going to prepare you a little more, okay? 'Red' if you want me to stop, 'yellow' if you want to do something else."
"To tell the truth, human, I'm... intrigued to see how you tamed the Autumn King," he whispered back.
Chuckling to yourself, you greased up your fingers again. You used the opposite hand to that with which you'd prepared the Autumn King, for the sake of hygiene. You ran a fingertip over his entrance and eased it inside him, watching and listening for any sign of discomfort. Nothing but a little catch of breath. You pressed in deeper and stroked inside him. Like Faolán, he'd been well-prepared. Once more you wondered which of them had performed the deed. Whoever it was, the mental image caused you to bite your lip. You slipped in a second finger and scissored them as you had with the Autumn King, and once more you found that it wasn't needed. He was already ready for you. What a good boy.

You slotted the second - smaller - dildo into the harness and lubed it up. The Silver Fang was the more powerfully built of the two, and your fingers sank into plump yet firm flesh when you took hold of his ass. You gave him a fond little squeeze as you lined up the toy with him.
"If there's anything wrong at all, tell me," you reminded him under your breath.
"I will, Ma'am."
He tensed as the toy breached him. You paused, your hand skimming soothingly over his lower back, and he arched into your touch.
"Relax for me. Keep breathing. You're sure you're okay?"
He nodded. You held your position until you felt his body relax, then began to move once more. Cautiously you guided the toy deeper and deeper into him. At the first sign of discomfort you stopped and waited for him to get used to the feeling. He had a rather sweet face, you realised, when you looked closely at the expressions he made. The way in which he chewed his lip to stifle his little noises, his underbite causing his fang to snag there. The little crease between his brows, and the flicker of his eyelids when you moved in just the right way. Hell, you even loved the flare of his nostrils when hilting the toy inside him caused him to gasp. For a hulking nine-foot tower of a man, he was truly adorable.

"That's a good boy. Are you ready for me to start?"
"Please..."
You drew your hips back and, gripping that plush ass for support, you slowly buried yourself back inside. The growling purr that sounded from him was low enough to resonate in your very bones. You trailed a long caress down his spine, and he pressed against your hand like a cat. You took the Silver Fang with the care and tenderness he deserved. There was no question that you had fucked the Autumn King - claiming him was as much a show of dominance as anything. With the Silver Fang, however, your gentleness approached lovemaking. He had never wanted to be part of the Autumn Court, and it was only because of his false king that he was being pegged at all. The faerie had been a stranger to you less than an hour ago and now here you were, entwined in such an intimate act. After all he'd gone through, the very least you could do was grant him a bit of kindness and prioritise his pleasure.

You combed your fingers through his fur, pressing gently into the small of his back to brace yourself.
"Is that nice?" you breathed.
"It... it is -"
"Good boy." His tail wagged as you pushed your hips flush with his, grinding against him in search of that one spot that would make him see stars. And there it was. You knew you'd found it as soon as the Silver Fang's breath caught in his throat and spilled out as a choked groan. His eyes fell half-closed, the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth with each breath. Could he get any cuter? You hadn't even noticed how widely you were grinning from just watching that face of his. You rewarded him with a few more thrusts against that sweet spot, yet you were careful not to overdo it. There was a fine line between pleasure and pain, and you'd never want to push the Silver Fang past it.

Every touch between you, every buck of your hips forced the nubs inside the harness to rub up into your pussy. They'd already got you dripping when you fucked the Autumn King, and now the pressure in your body was building in a way that you couldn't ignore. Bending a little, your fingers slipped through the fur of his abdomen as you murmured to the Silver Fang, "D-do you want to try and come together...?"
He nodded over his shoulder. Too weak, too overwhelmed to speak. Only the tiniest hint of lavender peeked from between nearly-closed eyes. His mouth hung open, fangs glinting with saliva. Bless him, he was almost drooling. You'd never have dreamed that such a reserved man had that kind of sordid expression in him. It was the kind of face the Autumn King might make. Perhaps, at heart, all faeries had the same appetite for sex, and some merely showed it more readily.

The sunny aroma of maythen drifted across from beside you, such a contrast to the forest's wet-moss scent that you blinked at it. The Autumn King sat there, kettle boiling and a steaming cup in his hands. You'd forgotten you'd told him he could make tea. For the mildness with which he watched you, his eyelids heavy and his mouth a straight line across his muzzle, he may as well have been watching the dullest match of tiddlywinks in his life. He noticed your gaze and raised his cup in a sarcastic toast. You stuck your tongue out at him.
"Enjoying your new plaything, are you?" he called.
"He's lovely... So obedient, and he m-makes the cutest faces..."
The Silver Fang spluttered, head dipping low to hide his blush.
"You're only borrowing him, remember. Nine more games before he's yours."
Your fingers curled around the Silver Fang's cock. "I'll win them - I'll win them for him -"
Any other words you might have strung together fell apart as the pressure inside you built and built to new, desperate heights. Almost there, almost there... The Silver Fang purred at the feel of your hand stroking along his cock, and thrust back in an effort to increase the contact between you. That only drove the nubs at your pussy harder. You slumped across the Silver Fang's back and nuzzled deep into his fur, burying a kiss there. Your impending climax had driven all conscious thought from your mind. The last thing you were aware of was how the Silver Fang trembled under you, how his growls seemed to reverberate through his chest and into your head, how his knot throbbed against your hand. The boundaries between the two of you dissolved as you lost yourselves to bliss. In that moment, there was nothing between you - you were him and he was you, and for endless seconds the two of you were one.

Your arms felt heavy and weak all at once, completely inadequate to support you, yet you pushed yourself upright and tried to catch your breath.
"You okay, Blaidd?" you asked.
"More than okay, Ma'am..." he panted back.
"You ready for me to pull out?"
He nodded and you began to ease your way out of him. As cool air flooded between you, you realised just how drenched in sweat you both were. Your fingers met damp fur as you carefully drew the toy out of him. The poor guy would end up with his coat matted if he wasn't careful.

"Thank you. You've both served well."

As soon as you announced the end of the scene, Faolán's empty expression broke into a grin.
"Not bad, was it?" He glanced across to Blaidd, who had straightened up. "Arse not hurting too much?"
Blaidd squinted at the wording, but replied, "I've survived worse."
"She was far gentler on you. Did a real number on me."
He slumped further, hips sliding against the ground. You realised that he was scooting to avoid sitting on a sore bit.
"You're all right too, are you?" you asked, fishing Faolán's brushes from your bag.
"I am. You know I like feeling you were there."

You giggled to yourself as you began to brush him. He'd rinsed his cum from his body already, and you combed through the damp fur so that it wouldn't dry clumped. Meanwhile, your shadow poured another cup of maythen tea and passed it to Blaidd, who chugged it gratefully.

"You could do with a brush too, Blaidd. Maybe even a quick wash. You got kind of sweaty."
Faolán crinkled his nose. "I see what my Lady means. Take a bit of pride in your appearance, will you?"
Handing a third cup back to you, Faolán retrieved the spare brush and lunged for Blaidd. The grey wolf swatted him away.
"Let me do it myself, I'm not a cub," he grumbled. Despite his tone, the look in his eye was not unkindly and it was a gentle hand that lifted the brush out of Faolán's grasp. He only gave himself the most cursory of grooming, but at least it worked out the worst of the tangles. He murmured his thanks to your shadow as he passed it back, then came to sit behind you, all but spooning against your back. You settled into his warmth and patted his thigh before returning your attention to brushing Faolán.
"How was that for you guys?" you asked.
"I can't complain," came Blaidd's voice from above you. "Pretending didn't feel as silly as I might have feared."
"You weren't a complete eejit," Faolán agreed over his shoulder.
"You did really well, Blaidd. And you're always great, Faol." Your shadow puffed himself up, and you laughed once more as you ran your fingers through his fur. The Silver Fang had had little to say, but hopefully the success of Blaidd's first roleplay would give him confidence. Next time the three of you could give him something meatier to work with, a bigger part where he could really come into his own. If he wanted to do it again, that was.
You tilted your head back, resting it against his stomach to let you gaze up at Blaidd. "Would you be up for playing at faeries another time, then?"
He tucked his chin into his chest to look back down at you. "I suppose I might."
The twinkle in his eyes belied his casual words, and you grinned at him.
"Nice. I was just thinking we should give you a bigger role next time, now you know what you're doing. Give you a bit more to do."
"Speaking of a bit more to do, my Lady... How about something all three of us can partake in next time? Instead of pairing up and leaving one of us sat on their arse."
"Yeah, that's a point. That one bit near the end was weird - looking up and seeing you sitting there with the blankest face and a cup of tea."
Faolán shrugged. "I thought it's what the Autumn King would have done."
"He probably would," you laughed. "But you're right. Both of you got stuck with nothing to do but watch the other."
"I'm fine with watching, Ma'am-"
"We all know that," Faolán cut in, earning himself a growl of warning from the other shadow. "I'd rather be more involved."
"Let's try and figure something out for next time. Only it's a bit awkward having all three of us at it when I'm half the size of you two -"
"Then maybe you should sit out, my Lady, and see how you like it."
Blaidd and Faolán with each other? Now there was an interesting thought. Faolán's eyes were bright with mischief. Blaidd scoffed under his breath and took another sip of tea instead of rising to the bait. Maybe not, then. Still, at least there would be a next time. At least Blaidd, for his initial scepticism, had warmed up to it, and Faolán had accepted him into your games. And as long as the three of you remained safe and happy, then there was no limit to how far your games might go except for your imaginations.

Faolán's fur had been combed to perfection, shining reddish-gold and silky smooth to the touch. With your task complete, you leaned back to snuggle into Blaidd's abdomen. He scooped you onto his lap, hugging you close as he nuzzled into the top of your head, his tail thumping in the grass behind him. The sound of another wagging tail joined it as your shadow sprawled against the both of you so that he could kiss your cheek. Gods, this had better not become an argument. But no, it seemed that the shadows' post-coital mellowness prevented them from flaring up at each other just now. They were content to share your embrace, even if they did compete just a little bit with who could nuzzle in closer, who could pepper your face with more kisses. They were adorable sometimes. Adorable and just a little silly. You tried to return every kiss you received, but with them trying to one-up each other it was going to be a long while. Still, you had the time. You had all the time in the world for them.

Chapter Text

At present, there are two major universes in which my stories take place:

1. the universe in which Unmaidenly Conduct takes place (hereafter called UC or mainverse). This closely matches the Lands Between as seen in Elden Ring canon.
2. the universe in which A Pack of Wolves takes place (hereafter called APoW-verse). This is very similar to the mainverse, but with one key difference - anyone can be born an Empyrean (unlike mainverse, where only beings of divine parentage, i.e. demigods, have the potential to become Empyreans). In APoW-verse, the Tarnished is also an Empyrean, and there is at least one other non-divine Empyrean.

Warmth is completely separate from Unmaidenly Conduct etc. It can take place in either universe, or neither.

UC/Mainverse

UC/mainverse contains 40 works:

Main branch (total: 4)

• Unmaidenly Conduct
  
• Celestial
  
• Purdeb
• Wolf Reborn

Starry Night branch (total: 3)

• Iulius and Augustus (by Esoteric Mantra)
  
• Pax Romana (by Esoteric Mantra)
• Virgil and Beatrice (A Starry Night Epilogue) (by Esoteric Mantra)

Icebound branch (total: 24)

• The Age of Icebound Stars
  
• Nemesis (by Esoteric Mantra)
  
• Persephone and Hades (by Esoteric Mantra)
  
• Hestia (by Esoteric Mantra)
• Aegis (by Esoteric Mantra)
• Orion and the Pleiades (by Esoteric Mantra)
• Hypnos (by Esoteric Mantra)
• Adonis (by Esoteric Mantra)
• Sisyphus and Tantalus (by Esoteric Mantra)
• Olympus (by Esoteric Mantra)
• Hephaestus (by Esoteric Mantra)
• Uranos and Nyx (by Esoteric Mantra)
• Delphi (by Esoteric Mantra)
• Thanatos (by Esoteric Mantra)
• Castor (by Esoteric Mantra)
• Pollux (by Esoteric Mantra)
• Apollo and Artemis (by Esoteric Mantra)
• Ariadne and Asterius (by Esoteric Mantra)
• Orpheus and Eurydice (by Esoteric Mantra)
• Heracles and Prometheus (by Esoteric Mantra)
• Hyperion (by Esoteric Mantra)
• Erebus (by Esoteric Mantra)
• Themis and Mnemosyne by Esoteric Mantra
• Lobo getting oral sex from the Twonished request

Chill branch (total: 7)

• The Age of the Chill Night
• Blaidd becoming Maliketh-sized request
• Collar and Chain
• Bryn horse-riding request
• Bryn being ill request
• Fit for Lords
• Blaidd and the Tarnished in middle age

Misc. or multiple branches (total: 2)

• Summons request
• Perspective flip request

The first chronological work in the mainverse timeline is Unmaidenly Conduct.
The first potential timeline branch is Celestial, which takes place around Chapter 5 or 6 of Unmaidenly Conduct, but it merges back into UC straight afterwards.

A more major timeline branch comes at Chapter 7 of Unmaidenly Conduct. The Purdeb branch is caused by the Tarnished confessing her feelings to Blaidd much earlier than in the mainverse. Purdeb occurs at the same time as Chapters 7 and 8 of Unmaidenly Conduct. It could continue as its own branch, or potentially merge back into the mainverse around Chapter 27 of Unmaidenly Conduct at the earliest.

The Wolf Reborn branch splits off around Chapter 32 of Unmaidenly Conduct. This is caused by Blaidd deciding to go to Liurnia before continuing the search for the fallen star, rather than searching Limgrave first as he does in UC. I like to imagine that after Wolf Reborn, that timeline continues in a similar manner to the Chill Branch (see below) minus the Tarnished's quest that takes up much of The Age of the Chill Night. It could potentially merge back into the Chill Branch (either around Chapter 8 of The Age of the Chill Night, or immediately after The Age of the Chill Night).

The mainverse splits into two branches at the end of Chapter 39 of Unmaidenly Conduct.
(I've seen the occasional fan theory that UC's Tarnished is NG+ and the splitting timeline is because of NG+ time looping. That had never occurred to me, but it's a pretty cool theory. There's a reference to the mainverse in APoW which suggests that APoW's Tarnished has brief flashes of mainverse memory.)

Icebound Branch

In this branch, Unmaidenly Conduct continues into The Age of Icebound Stars.
Esoteric Mantra's Starry Night series takes place approximately 2 or 3 years after The Age of Icebound Stars' epilogue. This branch is caused by Ranni changing her plan for the Fingerslayer Blade, which she lost access to in The Age of Icebound Stars. Starry Night consists of Iulius and Augustus, Pax Romana and Virgil and Beatrice.
The Starry Night series is a separate branch that does not lead into Icebound Returns.

Esoteric Mantra's Icebound Returns series takes place approximately 15 years after The Age of Icebound Stars' epilogue and consists of: Nemesis, Persephone and Hades, Hestia, Aegis, Orion and the Pleiades, Hypnos, Adonis, Sisyphus and Tantalus, Olympus, Hephaestus, Uranos and Nyx, Delphi, and Thanatos.

Thanatos has two endings, each of which lead into a new branch.

• In Castor, the Twonished accepts the Flames of Ruin, which leads to the Maiden of the Stars branch. This branch continues with Apollo and Artemis and Orpheus and Eurydice. It concludes with an epilogue, Erebus.
• In Pollux, Lobo accepts the Flames of Ruin, which leads to the Champion of Embers branch. This branch continues with Ariadne and Asterius and Heracles and Prometheus. It concludes with an epilogue, Hyperion.

The beginning of Themis and Mnemosyne takes place before Nemesis, and the end takes place after Hyperion.

The Icebound Branch and the Chill Branch meet once, in the summons request, and then split again. The summons request happens soon after Uranos and Nyx in the Icebound Branch, and soon after The Age of the Chill Night in the Chill Branch.

The Lobo oral sex request takes place at an unspecified point during the Icebound series after Sisyphus and Tantalus but before Uranos and Nyx.

I see EM's Icebound series as its own post-AoIS branch within the overall Icebound branch, although at the time of writing there are no post-AoIS fics that aren't part of EM's Starry Night or Icebound series.

Chill Branch

In this branch, Unmaidenly Conduct continues into The Age of the Chill Night. The Blaidd becoming Maliketh-sized request takes place an unspecified amount of time after The Age of the Chill Night, but still during the quest for the Elden Ring. Collar and Chain, the Bryn illness request and the Bryn horse-riding request can take place at any point after The Age of the Chill Night, either before or after the Tarnished has become Elden Lord. Fit for Lords and the older request takes place after the Tarnished has mended the Elden Ring (specifically, Fit For Lords takes place in the transitionary period between the Tarnished mending the Elden Ring and formally taking the crown as Elden Lord).

The Icebound Branch and the Chill Branch meet once, in the summons request, and then split again. The summons request happens soon after Uranos and Nyx in the Icebound Branch, and soon after The Age of the Chill Night in the Chill Branch.

The perspective flip request takes place in the mainverse. As it's probably going to be perspective flips of Unmaidenly Conduct, it can be considered as taking pace at the same time as Unmaidenly Conduct. What chapters it'll be is up to the readers, however, which is why it's currently listed under multiple branches.

APoW-verse

APoW-verse contains 10 works:

• A Pack of Wolves
• Ranni and Faolán playing chess
• Don't Wander Where the Hawthorn Grows
• Faolán topping Blaidd request
• Aisling and Eoghan request
• Polycule fluff request
• Collar and Chain equivalent
• Blaidd and Faolán getting drunk
• Breeding
• Spitroast

A Pack of Wolves and the first seven chapters of Unmaidenly Conduct take place at the same time.
The first chapter of Don't Wander Where the Hawthorn Grows takes place before A Pack of Wolves, while the other chapters take place after. The chess request takes place after A Pack of Wolves, but before the second chapter of Don't Wander Where the Hawthorn Grows. The Faolán topping Blaidd request, the polycule fluff request, the Collar and Chain equivalent request, the drunken request, the breeding, and the spitroast all take place an unspecified amount of time after A Pack of Wolves. Any or all of these can all take place within the same timeline, if desired, in roughly any order (although fanon places Faolán topping Blaidd soon after Don't Wander Where the Hawthorn Grows).

The exact positions of meeting Aisling and Eoghan, as well as Godlyn and Thandarin, are currently unknown. The aforementioned fan-characters are considered canon in the APoW-verse, although other APoW-verse works probably won't refer to them - it might be that the APoW-verse also has multiple timelines, where they meet in some timelines and not in others.
I like to imagine that Collar and Chain (from mainverse's Chill Branch) and the Collar and Chain equivalent take place at the same time in their respective universes.

Chapter Text

You opened your eyes, blinking blearily until the world came into focus, and were immediately met by Blaidd's gaze. He'd been watching you as you slept. Once he saw you were awake, he kissed your forehead.
"Bore da," he greeted you.
"Bore da," you mumbled in reply. Bloody rain was far too loud this early in the day. The summer storm hadn't let up ever since you left Redmane Castle, and only the gods knew how many days ago that had been. You raised your head as much as possible without actually lifting it from Blaidd's chest, yet even then you saw little further than the edge of the sailcloth that Blaidd had rigged up as an awning over the camp. The rain drummed against the fabric and ran off the edges in curtains of water that divided you from the murky smears that passed for the outside world. It was impossible to know for sure where you were, even with your map. Following the Festival of Combat, you and Blaidd had travelled westward in search of the fallen star, but met Caelid's shore with no sign of it. Now your route hugged the coastline as you made your way to Limgrave, but your position was no more certain than 'somewhere between the coast and Caelid Highway'. Sometimes you thought you saw a shape like a great building on the horizon, but the weather was far too foul for you to make it out clearly.

Blaidd chuckled under his breath. One hand cupped your head, his claws scratching along your scalp.
"My apologies, but I can't make the morning tea until you get up."
Last night, your lover had pledged himself to you in every way he could freely give. While he served Ranni above all others, he had still wanted to devote himself to you. Among his new responsibilities were to let you sleep on him like a bed and to prepare tea for you both. It was only now that you realised the problem with giving him those two orders. How was he supposed to make tea if he had you sprawled on his chest?
"Fair enough. You only make tea once I'm out of bed. Just give me a moment."
You reached out your arms and legs and rolled your shoulders back, working a couple of cricks from your muscles. Blaidd tilted his head back to stretch his neck. He'd bowed his head in order to sleep face-to-face with you last night, and if he'd held that position all night then his poor neck was probably stiff.
"Your neck's all right, isn't it?" you asked. "Only you slept a little weirdly."
He grunted as he gave a final stretch. "It's fine."

With one last arch of your spine - one last excuse to revel in the feel of his fur rubbing against your bare skin - you climbed out of the bedroll. Blaidd followed suit. While you began to dress yourself, Blaidd made straight for your bag and rifled through it for tea-herbs. No doubt he would prove as devoted a tea-brewer as a bed. He stopped for a moment, then cocked his head and leaned in to look closer at something. Suddenly he dropped the bag as if it had scalded him. It thumped against the ground, bouncing a little and sending a few of the contents tumbling from the top. You froze at the sound. His ears flat and cheeks burning, Blaidd fixed his eyes on you, then on your crumpled bag, then on you again. His tail whisked about in a low, nervous wag.

"Blaidd?"
"M-Ma'am?"
"What happened?" you asked. You were heedless of how ridiculous you must have looked, frozen in place with one foot off the ground, one trouser leg hitched over your knee. Much more important was finding what had caused that thunderstruck expression, and the shocked hush of his voice.
"What the bloody hell is...?" He lapsed into wide-eyed silence once more, then shook his head. "I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention to pry, or to drop your bag. It... I was... Something like that... Caught me by surprise, that's all..."
His hand trembled as he picked the bag back up, returned its contents and resumed his search for the tea-herbs.

So it was something in your bag that had startled him? ...Oh. Oh fuck. You felt your mouth grow dry, your heart pound. You could think of only one thing in your possession that might have triggered such a reaction. On your way through Caelid, your path had crossed with a travelling merchant whose wares were of an adult nature. Blaidd had experienced most of your purchases but not all of them. There'd been an item you'd kept hidden, one that you would have to discuss with him before you went any further. That shouldn't be in your bag in the first place! You'd stowed it into your spectral inventory to make sure Blaidd didn't stumble across it like this! So how did it even get there? All you could think of was Blaidd's last spectral report to Ranni. In his absence, you had gotten everything out of the chest to decide what was worth keeping and what could be discarded. You must have been distracted when you tidied them away, and put your most scandalous purchase in your bag by mistake. You didn't consider Blaidd ready for that conversation yet, and now it was going to be even harder. How was he possibly going to take this?

His coping mechanism was to lose himself in making the tea. You'd never seen anyone concentrate so hard on a tea-kettle; the intensity of his stare might have boiled the water even without a fire. His eyes didn't meet yours as he handed you your cup. A solitary thistle head - the only contraceptive herb to be found in Caelid - floated in the top of the drink. His head remained bowed and his gaze averted throughout breakfast.
The silence built and built, each passing minute weighing between you more heavily, until he finally brought himself to speak.
"So when were you going to tell me you had something like that?"
"I swear I was going to bring it up with you once I thought you were ready for it."
"I can't believe you've been simply walking around with such a thing!"
"Just imagine if I could die, and it ended up as loot on my corpse. Imagine getting kinkshamed from beyond the grave."
He frowned and pressed his fist against his mouth, but despite himself you heard a little snort trickle out from behind his hand. Even actually biting into his fist didn't help stifle the snickering.
You gave him a weak grin. "I mean, that's even if they knew what it was. Maybe they'd think it was some sort of weird club. A lost ritual item from Eochaid."
"Nobody's mistaking that thing's purpose any time soon, Ma'am."
"Well, it sounds like you know what it is, anyway," you joked. Maybe if you kept him laughing, that might take some of the tension out of the air. But his earlier merriment had died down, and your words were met with an ominous stare.
"I can make a bloody good guess," he growled. "I can't believe you bought that without even asking if I'd be interested."
"It's really well-made," you protested, "and the price was pretty reasonable for the quality. If I'd let it go, I'd have been hard-pressed to find another one."
The frown hadn't left Blaidd's face. "Still..."
"I'm sorry. I really, really did mean to talk it over with you beforehand. What with the storm, and trying to find the fallen star, and all the other things we've been doing, I didn't think it was time yet. I didn't expect you to find it like that."
"If you're going to run around with a bloody..." Blaidd's voice dropped to a whisper, even though there was nobody about to hear you. He hesitated. You saw in every flicker of his shifting expression just how he struggled to find a delicate way to continue, any way of referring to the item without actually having to name it.
"Strap-on," you said. There was no other word for it. You may as well put him out of his misery.
"...With a bloody strap-on in your bag," he finally managed, the bare patch of skin on his cheek almost wine-red, "then you should bloody well expect someone to find it!"
He downed the rest of his tea in a single chug, and rose to his feet.
"Do you want a top-up, Ma'am?" he asked, trying to keep his voice level and not quite succeeding.
"Please."

Your cup was still half-full, but a distraction might help him to calm down. The air had not quite cleared between you, though. You looked down at your hands, finding that you'd started wringing them without your notice. This was the worst possible way for him to find out. The poor man had been thrown into this situation with no preparation at all. How could he help but be rattled, and how could anyone fault him for it? His fingers brushed against yours as he handed your cup back, almost full to the brim and billowing with aromatic steam. He took a seat beside you and stared into his own tea as if it was a scrying pool that might give him some answers.

"...What're you thinking, Blaidd?"
"A lot."
Not an answer that filled you with confidence. He wasn't great with a lot of thoughts at once; they bogged him down. You sipped at your tea instead. All you could do to help him right now was give him some space with his thoughts. The both of you drank in silence, him not ready to talk and you not willing to force the issue.

You changed the subject instead.
"How soon until we reach Limgrave, do you think?"
He seized the new line of conversation eagerly.
"A few more days, if the rain doesn't let up. You can't see it now, but..." He gestured towards the horizon, or what was visible through the sheets of rain. "On a clear day, you might just see the Mistwood from here. It's not as far as it seems, Ma'am. Once we reach the Third Church of Marika, we continue west to Stormveil and make our way to the Three Sisters."
A chill flooded your stomach as if you had swallowed ice. If you were heading west once you reached Limgrave, did that mean...?
"Not looking for the fallen star, then?"
"If only we were out of this bloody storm, we should be able to make the journey in a week or so. After that, we return to our mission. I'll report to Lady Ranni tonight and inform her. We're almost due a report regardless; the new moon draws near."

Every vassal of the Lunar Princess was expected to report to her, either in person or as a spectral projection, at each new moon. It was a means of updating her on their progress if they were on a mission, and to assure her that they had met no harm. Still, had it really been a whole month since the Festival of Combat? Blaidd had some unspoken affinity with the moon. Storm clouds had blotted out the sky day and night ever since you left Redmane Castle, yet he knew its current phase by instinct alone. Even so...

"The new moon again? Already?"
He nodded. Your eyes widened as you tried to count the days off backwards. They'd blended together into such a smear of foul weather, thick as the mud the deluge churned up under your feet, that you hadn't realised your journey was taking so long. Even following Caelid's curving coast, you should have reached Limgrave in less than a fortnight!
"Can't believe it... But if seeing Ranni in person will make you feel better, let's do it."
But once that topic was exhausted, the two of you fell into silence once more. He had his discovery to dwell on, and now you had the surge of old anxieties about Ranni.

That day - as every day had been since the two of you departed from the castle - was a constant struggle against the elements. The wind battered you back and forth, and drove the constant rain into any gap in your clothing it could find. After only a few minutes' walk, you wouldn't have been much wetter if you'd just thrown yourself into the sea. And yet were the clouds a little less grey, less heavily burdened with rain than they had been yesterday? Had the downpour weakened enough to see just a yard or two further ahead than over the last few weeks? This had been a beast of a storm, but all the evidence suggested that it was on its way out. You'd nudged Blaidd, excitement ringing in your voice as you shared your theory, but although he nodded in agreement he rarely spoke. The whole day passed with only minimal conversation. It was like being back in the Darriwil-hunting days, before you'd earned Blaidd's trust. Even if the clouds above were fading, the one that hung over the two of you since that morning had not. But you were determined not to force him to talk. When he was ready to tackle the topic of what he'd found in your bag, he would. Until then, you had your own thoughts to keep you company, your own fears swirling round your head.
You would never be able to share those thoughts with Blaidd. He'd be deaf to your doubts about his beloved liege. Any word against her was slander of the worst kind. You weren't sure if you really did oppose her. When it came to Ranni, you weren't sure of anything. She was so... different from anyone you had ever met. A picture of reserved serenity that masked an unfathomable nature. Blaidd had been her step-brother and childhood friend long before he swore loyalty to her. He knew far more of her heart and mind than you did, and whatever lay behind that ever-neutral demeanour was enough for him to pledge devotion to her. To you, on the other hand, she was a book written in invisible ink. Unknowable. You had trusted enough in Blaidd, giddy in the blossoming of your relationship with him, to join his service to his liege without knowing what goal she had you working toward - and that was where your difficulty lay. What was Ranni really asking of you? What was waiting for you with the fallen star? And why did Ranni need the Eternal City of Nokron in the first place?

You set up the night's camp by the bay. Still on the Caelid side of the border, Blaidd told you, but not too far from Limgrave. Despite your best efforts, no Site of Grace had shone through the rain that evening, so it would be only a basic camp tonight. Without the spectral inventory you'd have to rely on what you already had with you. Thank goodness that the two of you had formed the habit of each carrying a little dry wood in your knapsacks, just enough for a small fire when put together, for exactly this scenario. And at least you each had a little bit of dried food for your supper. Foraging along the beach was all well and good, but there was so little to go between you that, without your rations, you would have had a meagre sort of meal. At this time of year Limgrave was heaving with game and greens, Liurnia teeming with fish. With only the shores of Caelid untouched by the scarlet rot, crabs and seaweed were the best that the diseased desolation of this region had to offer. Still, you were in no position to turn down fresh food.

There was a little conversation over your shellfish-and-seaweed dinner, but you could only get so much mileage out of that day's travels before silence draped itself over the camp. The patter of rain on the sailcloth canopy Blaidd had set up almost drowned out the rolling roar of the tide. All day you'd heard little more than rain, and you were tired of it. Just because you were waiting for Blaidd to broach the events of that morning didn't mean that all other conversation was off limits.

"So once we reach Limgrave, we keep straight on for Stormveil?" you asked. "Do you still want to call on Ranni before finding the fallen star?"
"The fallen star will go no further for the sake of a fortnight, and the weight lifted from me by seeing Mistress Ranni in the flesh will be worth the diversion."
"If it puts your mind at rest, then it will. And I can't see something of that size just... disappearing into the earth, or drifting out to sea, or something. If what Iji and Sellen said is right, then it will have somehow opened the way to Nokron, right?"
Blaidd nodded, fishing out a chunk of crab from his plate.
"Ranni never told me what we're supposed to do once we find the Eternal City. How do we know that we've done what she wants of us?"
"Ranni seeks the lost treasure of Nokron. An ancient blade that spells death for her Two Fingers."
"Her...?" You knew little of the Two Fingers, other than that they were vassals of the Greater Will. When you first met Ranni, back when she bore the false name of Renna, she had murmured something about your Tarnished kin soon tiring of the Two Fingers. Did Ranni bear them a grudge, then? Before you could shape your wonderings into a coherent question, Blaidd must have seen the confusion in your face, for he carried on.
"They have her fate in a stranglehold, and only Nokron's treasure will free it."
"I thought we already freed it when we killed Radahn and released the stars."
"Not quite. It's the Two Fingers that hold control of her fate, and the halting of the stars sealed it within their grasp. With the stars in motion once more, Mistress Ranni has the chance to fight for her fate."

So that was it! It only figured that someone like her had a grand scheme in mind. Fighting the Greater Will itself to take control of her own destiny. You had to admire the ambition of it all. It wasn't too dissimilar to what you'd done with your own life, albeit on a much smaller scale. This was a goal you could support. Still, why were the Two Fingers so concerned with Ranni?

"We'll find it, easy. We know a thing or two about finding things, right?" You nudged Blaidd's side with your elbow. Surely finding some weapon would be easier than rooting out Darriwil had been. The Bloodhound Knight had been a swift and cunning foe. A blade was just a chunk of metal. Weapons were nothing when they had no hand to wield them. You grinned up at him, and he matched your smile, but his mouth hung lopsided and uneasy. His gaze dropped and flitted towards your bag. He couldn't keep his eyes off it for very long, you noticed. His tail-tip had a nervous sway to it.
"Ma'am."
"Blaidd?"
"Is...?" He cleared his throat and looked to your bag once more. "I take it that's something you want to do to me."
You didn't need to ask what 'that' was. The discussion of Nokron seemed to have bolstered his confidence enough to bring it up. You kept your tone gentle and reassuring. The last thing you wanted was to kill the conversation dead by not taking his worries seriously.
"I'm never going to do anything to you that you don't want."
"But you want to," he replied.
"Only if you want it too."

Silence. You picked at your dinner, chasing an elusive bit of seaweed around your plate with your fork. Well, that had been a short chat. You thought he'd clammed up again, until he asked a question so softly that you had to lean in to hear it.

"Have you done it before?"
"Yeah."
"Do... they enjoy it?"
"Usually. If they don't, they use the safeword and I stop." You took a deep breath and shuffled even closer to him until your sides were touching. "Listen. It's really common to be nervous if you haven't been pegged before. That's why I wanted to talk to you about it first, when I thought you were ready. I wish you hadn't found it like that. It had been in the spectral chest but I did an inventory check and I must have put it the bag by accident. Guess I should keep my stuff more organised, huh?"
He didn't answer. You laid a hand on his wrist.
"...Blaidd?"
Nothing. His gaze was fixed on the far distance as he fidgeted with his runcible spoon. For the first time in weeks, you saw a narrow band of sky dividing the horizon. The grey of sea and sky were no longer one and the same; the storm was reaching its finale. He chewed the inside of his cheek, his brow occasionally twitching and creasing with the thoughts running through his mind. His tail still had that anxious whisk to it. The conversation really did seem over this time. You continued your dinner in a silence underscored by the sounds of storm and sea. Just as you'd shoved a last bundle of seaweed into your mouth, you felt his hand brush along your upper back, the curl of his fingers over the top of your shoulder. A mumble in your ear.
"You're the only person I'd ever consider it with, Ma'am."

It wasn't consent. He had worded himself very carefully. He hadn't said that he would, or you could - only that he might consider it. But just being open to discussion about the possibility of letting you peg him, that was progress. Even such a tentative admission was laudable.
"I'm glad you'd trust me that much." You rested your hand on top of his and laced his fingers through yours. "It's a difficult topic for a lot of guys. So thanks for at least considering it. Just don't think there's any pressure to go through with it if you don't want to."
"Well, it is a little..." He cleared his throat. "It's a little strange."
"I have an idea, if you want." He tilted his head, ears alert. "What if, sometime when I'm sucking you off, I try touching you a little as well? Just to get you used to being stimulated, and see if you actually like being touched there. There's no point pegging you if you don't."
"...How much touching is 'a little'?"
"I'd probably start with the perineum, then -"
"The what?"
"It's the bit behind your balls." It was crude but it was language he could understand. You took advantage of the mortified silence that met your words and continued, "Then if you were okay with it, I'd want to try putting a few fingers inside you."
"...'A few'," he muttered under his breath, "'a few fingers'."
You held up your hand to remind him just how small your fingers were in comparison to him.
"The size of you, you'd hardly feel one. I'd still start with just one, but I'd go up to more if you were comfortable with it."
He tilted his head, eyes narrowed, on the verge of saying something yet trying to bite back the words at the same time. Finally the words stumbled out.
"...Might you... use that grease stuff, at least?"
"I'll lubricate my fingers first, don't worry. There's an actual lubricant recipe in that cookbook, so I'll make some." The grease he referred to was a substance that increased the capacity of anything it was smeared inside. It was only by way of the magical grease that your enormous lover was able to penetrate you. You didn't need it for preparing Blaidd, however. Your fingers would definitely fit inside him, so only the lube was necessary.

You couldn't help smiling at the flicker of concern on Blaidd's face. Not from laughing at him - you'd never mock him for being distressed - but seeing him unsettled in any way just made you want to wrap him up in a big blanket and take care of him. He was like a child entering water for the first time. It was a big deal for him, and you weren't about to pretend that it wasn't, but your previous experiences with pegging told you that he'd cope much better than he thought he would.

"Mate, you're enormous," you pointed out. "Even the strap-on's sized for an average human. I'll use the grease if we need it, but I'm pretty sure regular lube will be enough. My fingers are going to be that short compared to you that I'll only barely reach your prostrate anyway."
"My...?"
You felt your cheeks burning. How was it that you knew more of the words for his anatomy than he did? Oh well. This wasn't the first time he'd proven himself a little naïve on sexual matters. It was quite endearing, really. You'd had plenty of fun teaching him about his own body up to now, and this would just be one more example of it.
"You know how when you eat me out, there's a little rough patch inside me at the front that's really sensitive? I know you do, because you aim for it with your tongue every damn time."
He nodded. The corner of his mouth twitched, a smile that faltered at the last moment, but you noted just a glimmer of self-satisfaction in his eye, there and gone again in a second.
"Well," you continued, "the prostate's a little like that."
"I... see."
"Does that sound okay, Blaidd? We don't have to if you don't want. And if we do and you hate it, we'll never do it again."
"We can try it."
You ran your hand up his arm and gave it a gentle squeeze.
"You're a good boy. Just don't feel like you have to be brave for my sake."
Your mind flickered with an image of bared teeth, the blur of fangs snapping at you, your hands trying desperately to clamp his jaws shut. The disaster that had been your attempt at roleplay.
"I want to. For you."

His smile was faint, but his eyes were so soft with trust that it melted your heart. You lifted his hand from your shoulder and kissed it. And yet you couldn't help worrying for him. A sweet, noble, selfless man. The memory of him trapped within his own panic, trying to sink his fangs into your hands. He was so concerned with making you happy that he would neglect his own well-being, no matter how it hurt him. You'd have to keep communication open, check in with him constantly, and encourage him to tell you exactly how he was doing. You couldn't stand a repeat of the roleplay's failure. You never wanted to cause him that kind of suffering again.

After dinner, Blaidd sat back to make his spectral report to Ranni. You had nothing better to do for the evening, and so you figured that you would have another go at projecting. Despite the half-wolf's reassurances, you did not mean to call on Ranni. Something in her manner always made you feel small and bumbling. Still, even if you had as little intention of speaking to her as you had at the last new moon, you'd gotten a lot out of the conversation you'd shared with Iji. There was every chance that he would be at Ranni's Rise tonight. You closed your eyes and emptied your mind as you had been taught, letting yourself slip into a trancelike state until your consciousness teetered on the edge of sleep. An image of your hand formed before you, pale and insubstantial as mist. You strengthened the image until it gleamed, and let it spread out to form a body of pure light. Beyond your spectral hands, your mind filled in a background of the same pearlescent haziness. The shining seams of stone walls and floors, translucent books stacked in heaps on every surface, the dignified chaos that was Ranni's Rise. You discarded your physical form like a set of clothing and hoisted your spectral body into Ranni's Rise.

It was not Iji, nor even Ranni, who met you. No, it was someone far less welcome.
"...I don't really want to talk to you," you muttered.
"Finally," came the sneering voice of Preceptor Seluvis. "A matter upon which we are both agreed. Try not to waste too much of Lady Ranni's time when your turn comes," he called as you turned and headed for the stairs. You didn't dignify that with an answer. Not a verbal one, at least. You and Seluvis had gotten off on the wrong foot when you pledged yourself to Ranni's cause, and neither of you cared to correct it. There was better company to be found higher up the tower.

"Hi again, Iji."
The blacksmith nodded in greeting. Even if spectral bodies passed straight through physical objects, Iji always chose to manifest upon the second floor, in the only room with a ceiling high enough to contain him.
"Well met once more, Tarnished. I admit I was about to take my leave. But what brings you here? Did I not see Blaidd ascend to Lady Ranni mere minutes ago?"
"I... uh... I just fancied practicing projecting," you confessed. It sounded weak even to you. Iji's head tilted a little, setting the glass panels hanging from his helm tinkling.
"There is nothing to fear from Lady Ranni," he told you, his voice a soft creak that put you in mind of a tree swaying in the wind. "Do not let yourself be daunted. She may be an Empyrean, but you are her vassal, the same as all of us. There is no reason why you should not report to her, or join Blaidd when he does."

He hadn't quite hit the nail on the head. You weren't so much intimidated as apprehensive of Ranni, but you were hardly going to put him right on that score. One of his words caught your interest, though. You hadn't heard 'Empyrean' in so long that you'd forgotten to find out what it meant.

"Is an Empyrean a kind of witch? I meant to ask you ages ago."
One hand rose to his helm and he fidgeted with the mirror panels, straightening them out.
"An Empyrean is one who can contain the power of the gods, worthy of taking the throne of the Lands Between and bringing a new order."
"So it's someone who has the potential to become Elden Lord?"
"Beyond that, Tarnished. The potential to become a god."

That was what Ranni was...? More than a witch, more than even a princess, she might be a future deity of the Lands Between. You thought back to the little doll-like figure at the Church of Elleh, so long ago, introducing herself only as Renna the witch. Even back then, the quiet grace of her demeanour had set her apart, but you'd never have anticipated that she was a candidate for godhood.

"Does being an Empyrean have anything to do with shadows? Or the Two Fingers?"
He nodded. "The Two Fingers choose their Empyrean from among the demigods and grant them a shadow, a faithful follower and protector who takes a wolfish form."
No wonder the Two Fingers took such an interest in her fate! Ranni was the one they had selected to stand above even her fellow demigods. But somewhere along the line, Ranni wanted to set aside the fate laid out for her. Was it that she didn't want to become a god? You thought you'd solved the mystery, but you'd merely peeled back one layer to reveal something even greater and more puzzling than before.
"Blaidd's called himself Ranni's shadow once or twice. I thought it might be a metaphor, but he said something about not being able to die because he's bound to Ranni? Is that right?"
"That is true. A shadow can no more die than they can betray their master. Unle-"
Iji shook his head and turned a page hurriedly.
"What were you saying? 'Unless'? Unless what?"
"I have told you all you need to know."
"Come on, you started saying it! I'm curious now!"
"Empyreans are granted their blessings with the understanding that they serve the will of their Two Fingers."
Iji fell silent once more, but he'd said enough for you to put the pieces together.

"So what if an Empyrean doesn't want to serve them?" Iji flinched at your question, head flicking up as if he feared being struck down from above. He straightened out another panel of his helm. "You said that shadows can't die or betray their master unless something. Is that the something?"
"The shadow serves as a weapon, both for the Empyrean and against them. Under the... circumstances you described, a shadow will go mad - transforming from a follower into a horrid curse, slaying their master on the Two Fingers' behalf."
"Slaying their...?"

How could that be? It was unthinkable. Your mouth ran dry as you looked to the ceiling. Blaidd's body of light was probably a few floors above you right now, with Ranni. You'd never seen such devotion as the half-wolf's, and yet if what Iji said was true, his loyalty was forcibly bound to the Two Fingers above all others. But you couldn't imagine anything less likely than Blaidd turning his sword against Ranni. The sky would fall into the sea before Blaidd harmed a hair on Ranni's head.

"...That could - you're saying that could happen to Blaidd?"
"The Two Fingers would kill the shadow in all but body, leaving nothing more than a bloodthirsty beast. If it did, there would be no choice but to neutralise him. For Lady Ranni's sake, and his own."

"Ranni never told me what we're supposed to do once we find the Eternal City. How do we know that we've done what she wants of us?"
"Ranni seeks the lost treasure of Nokron. An ancient blade that spells death for her Two Fingers."

You were going to Nokron to find a weapon capable of killing the Two Fingers. If she raised a sword to them, then they would rip out Blaidd's soul and turn him loose on her. Ranni had set Blaidd - her sworn sword and shadow, her brother and friend, a man who would never dream of defying her orders - marching down a path to his own destruction.

You never remembered afterwards where else the conversation went. Iji's words washed over you, and all you could do was nod dumbly. Your mind buzzed, your fears jumbling together until they were hardly coherent anymore. Even after your spectral self returned to your camp on the bay, after you had taken your place on top of Blaidd in his bedroll, you couldn't get Iji's words out of your head any more than you could shift that anxious feeling in the pit of your stomach. Did your lover even know what lay in store for him? That Ranni would sacrifice him to her own ambitions? That he might murder the sister he'd devoted his whole life to and not even know it? You sighed, biting your lip in an effort to stop yourself crying. You had to get him out of this mess. You had to change his fate. There was no way you'd let Blaidd's soul be torn from him. But the biggest obstacle was Blaidd himself. A flash of blue in your mind, a clatter of plate metal on stone. Darriwil's helmet, with his head still inside it, clattered to the ground over and over in your head. You knew how the half-wolf felt about traitors. He would never betray Ranni himself, and he would probably rather kill you than let you act against her. Come to think of it, did he have any choice in the matter? For all you knew, it was the Two Fingers that guided his soul. Perhaps they simply wouldn't let him conceive of disloyalty to his Empyrean. If only there was a way to stop the Two Fingers before Ranni stood against them. If only you could somehow snatch Blaidd away from them, destroy whatever it was that allowed them to control him, then neither of you would need to betray Ranni. But was such a thing even possible?

Chapter Text

When you woke the next morning, you stared into the stormy sky. Much of what lay above you was shrouded by clouds, dark and bumpy as old scabs, but in places those scabs had been peeled back to reveal patches of blood-red. You'd never liked the crimson sky that hung over Caelid, but after a whole month of rain, your heart leapt at even a hint of its return.

"You awake, Blaidd?" you whispered to the man below you. You didn't doubt that he was. He often woke before you, but unless he had early-morning business to attend to then he liked to doze. For all you relished snuggling into his fur, he had once confessed that he enjoyed your weight on top of him. Something about the pressure and warmth of your body soothed him. It had never occurred to you that Blaidd luxuriated in you the same way you did with him.
Sure enough, one eye half-opened immediately. "Bore da."
You craned your neck to kiss him, but just before your lips met his muzzle, there was a flash of pink and something wet flicked over your nose. He'd licked you. You laughed, feigning an expression of disgust before planting a kiss on the tip of his nose in return.
"Bore da. The cloud cover's breaking."
He tilted his head to peer past you. "So it is. The end of this bloody storm, with any luck."

And sure enough, over breakfast, there was actually a moment when the rain stopped. You glanced up at the clear spot of sky, then nudged Blaidd to fistbump him. It was only a brief lull, for the wind soon swept another slate-grey cloud overhead and rain pattered on the sailcloth canopy once more. But that was fine. This was only drizzle. You'd spent weeks being lashed by a summer storm. A little bit of drizzle was nothing. Over the course of the day, the patchwork of cloud and sky brought the rain in stops and starts. Your travels were still marked by thick gloopy mud, sodden by weeks of water with nowhere to drain to. Still, you no longer had sheets of rain obscuring your way. The horizon was even visible. With landmarks to guide you, it was much easier for the two of you to navigate your way to the border.

It was late afternoon by the time you reached Limgrave. The low sun cast the region in a golden glow, granting it the lustre of treasure. Even so, crossing the border had little sense of occasion. The changes crept up gradually - the thickening of the grass from half-dead tufts scattered about the mud to a rich carpet that brushed your ankles, the withered shrubs giving way to their healthier kin, the sounds of birds that weren't cawing crows. Even the air tasted clearer, free of the fungus-like taint that hung in Caelid's atmosphere. You squeezed Blaidd's hand as you recognised the old familiar landmarks, and he squeezed back, but there was no more acknowledgement of your arrival than that. Not to say that you were sorry to leave Caelid. You weren't going to miss the bloodied sky, the barren and treacherous terrain you'd fought your way through, and especially not the haunted ruins of Sellia. But at the same time, you didn't expect the little tug at your heartstrings that came with the knowledge that you'd left those rot-infested lands behind. A lot had happened there, and certain places would always hold a special significance for you. You would keep them in your heart and revisit them in your mind, even years later. Your arrangement with Blaidd had begun among the cliffs of Dragonbarrow. It was Redmane Castle where the two of you had finally confessed your feelings for each other. The Wailing Dunes had witnessed your greatest victory yet, your joint defeat of Radahn. Even Sellia, with the tenderness of the embrace you'd shared on its outskirts, became something to cherish. The seeds of your relationship were sown in Limgrave, but it was Caelid where they bloomed.

You reached the Third Church of Marika in good time to make a camp. The crumbling walls stood dark against a backdrop of twilit sky. It wasn't a place you'd ever lingered long. A ruined chapel was nothing remarkable around here. The Lands Between were covered in the remains of holy sites, fallen apart and left to decay, much like the harmony between the gods themselves. You could hardly move without tripping over some stone that had once been part of a church wall. Once you'd seen one collapsed church, you'd seen them all. The only notable difference between this one and the Church of Elleh at the other side of Limgrave was the size of the ruins left behind. The pillars that now lay in moss-coated, weatherworn stumps must once have been as big as the trees that had taken their place. These places were all the same to you, though. Every ruin was to be regarded with mistrust. You knew your fear was irrational, but that didn't lessen it any. If it hadn't been for the convenience of Grace, you may well have set up camp somewhere else.

After supper, you snuggled up with Blaidd.
"Good to be back in Limgrave," you murmured into his fur.
He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer, and you sank happily into his wolf-scented warmth. For a summer night, it was almost cold. Perhaps it was the edges of the storm that brushed over Limgrave's border. There had still been a little rain beyond Caelid, but only a few wisps of raincloud had drifted this far west.
"I thought it would feel... bigger, somehow, getting back here," you continued. "After all that time crossing Caelid, I mean. Like reaching a milestone. But it doesn't feel much different, does it?"
"It's still progress," he pointed out. "Every step brings us closer to Mistress Ranni."
"Fancy making a proper celebration of it, then?" You raised your hand, ready to snap your fingers.
Blaidd chuckled under his breath. "Not tonight, Ma'am. Let me savour one night's sleep without the sound of rain."

Fair enough. As always, it had been a long day's walking, and you'd heard the weariness dragged along in the undertone of the half-wolf's voice even before you'd finished setting up camp. You'd looked forward to a little fooling around, personally, but you tried to put it out of your mind and simply nestled on top of him. Maybe tomorrow he'd be less tired.

Afterwards, part of you wondered whether it wasn't tiredness but some deep-seated sense of taboo. Even someone who opposed Marika's Golden Order, as Ranni and her vassals did, might balk at the thought of having sex in once-holy grounds. In any case, you expected Blaidd to return to his usual friskiness soon. So it was to your surprise and consternation that, as you crossed Limgrave and skirted around Stormveil by the cliffside path, his interest did not pick up. You still shared his bedroll at night, but your kisses and embraces rarely went further than a bit of touching. Even now, lying on top of him, he seemingly wanted nothing more than to hold you against him. It used to be that a good snuggle was enough to get him excited, but tonight the only parts of him that were hard were his shoulders. The muscles there were so tense that resting your head on him felt more like trying to sleep on a furry stone.

"Turn over," you said, slipping out of his bedroll.
Blaidd tilted his head. His drowsy eyes only deepened the confusion in his face.
"Ma'am?"
"Your shoulders are practically solid. Nobody can sleep like that. I'm going to give you a massage - see if that helps."
You caught a glimpse of a soft smile as he rolled over and shuffled upward to bare his shoulders to you. Your fingers sank into his fur, fluffy undercoat suddenly giving way to solid flesh. Gods, he really was tense. Straddling his back, you kneaded across his shoulders, following the curve of his body from his neck to his upper arms and working away the tautness you found in each muscle. His tail gave a few lazy wags before it audibly flopped against his leg. A long sigh escaped from him, and you felt yourself sink as his chest deflated.

"Do you want to talk about anything?" you asked.
"No."
"You're sure?"
"I'm sure."
"But if you change your mind, you know I'll listen, right?"
"I know, Ma'am. Don't fret so."
While most of his flesh had started to relax under your attentions, there were a few little knots that stayed tensed no matter how you rubbed at them. Ah. You ran your fingertips over his skin and realised you'd found old lumps of scar tissue. They would always be solid, permanent mementos of old battles. You concentrated your kneading on what you actually could soothe, and heard his breath deepen until he sounded on the verge of falling asleep. Massaging him brought you some comfort as well. You did so love the feel of his fur slipping through your fingers, as well as seeing him more at ease than he'd been for days.
"That'll do, Ma'am." His voice rumbled somewhere between a purr and a snore. "Let me up."

You climbed off him and he rolled over, settling onto his back once more and pulling you into your rightful place on top of him.

"Much appreciated. And if I return the favour?"
His fingers crept along your back and he cradled your shoulders, wrapping his hands completely around them with no effort at all.
"Go on then."
Despite the enormity of his hands, and the steely strength you felt behind each touch, he rolled your flesh between his fingers with the utmost care. You closed your eyes, unconscious of the smile on your face as you relaxed into his touch. The interplay of leathery calluses and bristles of fur that swept along your skin was enough to make you melt. It was so tempting to simply lay your head on his chest and drift off to sleep. Having his hands caressing you was almost enough to reassure you, and yet you couldn't help remembering how different Blaidd's touch had been back in Caelid. You'd been at it most nights since Redmane. His sudden loss of interest ate away at you. Why had he gone off sex like that? Were you the problem? Or maybe he'd had second thoughts about the strap-on but was too proud - or too shy - to admit it. You weren't about to push the issue, not when it was something that had embarrassed him in the past, but the fact that he didn't want to talk about it troubled you. You buried your face in his chest and did your best to let his touch carry your cares away.

Two days later, you woke so early that the dawn was something you heard before you saw. A deep, rich blue still covered most of the sky, but a watery strip of light along the eastern horizon was enough to send the roosting birds into a chorus. You slipped out of the bedroll, careful not to disturb the slumbering half-wolf, and gazed out across the misty water. You'd found a secluded little nook to sleep in last night - a stone folly tucked away between the trees and cliffs of Liurnia Lake's southwest shore. The webs stretching between the folly's pillars were weighed down by pearls of dew. The ever-present fog ensured that Liurnia was always cold and damp, especially when the sun had not yet risen. You wrapped up warm as you mulled over your early-morning mission.

What a relief it was, after weeks of traipsing a storm-sodden wasteland, to finally have access to fresh food! The magic of your spectral inventory seemed to preserve its contents indefinitely, but with so little to forage or hunt in Caelid, your stocks had almost run out. You were eager to replenish them, and now was a good time of year for it. Late summer was ideal for fishing. Your mouth watered at the thought of fresh fish for breakfast. It had been ages since you'd last had any. What could be better, when camping in the shallows of Liurnia Lake, than a spot of dawn fishing? Some fine fat trout to fry, crispy skin on the outside and delicate flaking flesh on the inside, to start your morning. That made your mind up. With a stick and a bit of string to serve as your fishing rod, plus your trusty greatsword just in case, you tiptoed down the steps of the folly and set out into the lake.

The sky had brightened by the time you'd decided on a fishing spot, but not by much. The creamy pink of the sunlight did not quite reach the ground, where the mists and waters enveloped Liurnia in a silvery shroud. It was impossible to make much out beyond a few yards, for the mist bled each outline and colour into its neighbour until you weren't sure where one thing ended and another began. The tops of the trees breached the murky smears of colour in near-black silhouettes against the sky. There was a dreaminess about the haze, something not of the real world. Dew glittered in the grass you sat in, and on the moss that grew thick on fallen trunks that now lay half-submerged in the water. You'd heard somewhere that the whole region was slowly sinking into the lake. How long would it be before Liurnia disappeared beneath a clash of lake and sea, and water divided two halves of the Lands Between? You cast your line into the water and watched it sink as you allowed the mist to roll in and engulf you.

You shivered. The humidity of the fog made your skin feel clammy, and your cold hair clung to your face. You flicked it away from your forehead and eyed what you'd caught so far. A single trout, a little on the small side - a breakfast for you but not Blaidd. The amount of food it took to keep him going was one of the few disadvantages of having a giant man-wolf for a companion. At worst, you could always try and scoop out handfuls of freshwater shrimp from under the bank. Or maybe hunt down one of the enormous crayfish you'd seen. You'd passed a few dozing in the shallows earlier. They'd have plenty of meat on them.

Just as that thought entered your head, a shape shambled out of the haze. A Giant Crayfish, tall enough that its moss-crusted shell scraped against the lowest branches of a tree. Its beady eyes glistened, and its antennae flicked towards you as if in thought. It pounced, and only a quick roll got you out of range in time. The Crayfish swung round with a menacing click of pincers. Perfect! If this one was so determined to attack you, it had just offered itself up for breakfast! Thank goodness the dangers of the Lands Between had taught you to always carry a sword with you. You dodged around the Crayfish, and before it had chance to lumber round to face you, you'd slipped your blade behind its leg and driven it as deep into the creature's soft underbelly as possible. A few more good stabs and the Crayfish threw its head back in a dying screech, before keeling over on its side. There'd be so much meat that you considered using your sword to carve it up. Blaidd would probably disapprove of such a thing, but it seemed more practical than tackling it with a knife. You slid the tip of your sword below the shell and tried to crack it. The shell shattered into dust, or perhaps smoke. Huh? Now the whole Crayfish dissolved into a cloud of grey. You cursed to yourself. Where the fuck was your breakfast going? The cloud twisted and curled on itself, thickening into a new form. The last ashen wisps dissipated into the mist as a smaller, but much more dangerous, figure took shape. It was not unlike a giant crab, with some kind of massive blanket for a shell. The legs it scuttled towards you on, however, were disturbingly human. Grafted flesh made up its entire body, each monstrous limb composed of human arms bound together, hand to shoulder. And the head that peered out at you from under the cape... that once belonged to a human too.

You swore out loud this time. You'd met one of these spidery bastards almost as soon as you entered the Lands Between, and it had not ended well for you. That thing - a Grafted Scion, you'd since learnt it was called - taught you the hard way that you couldn't truly die. You weren't going to let one of its kin kill you a second time.

You raised your sword high, only for the creature to mimic you with not one but two blades of its own. It surged at you with an agility such a bulky monstrosity shouldn't possess. It splashed as tumbled through the shallows, swinging both swords in a wide arc. You dodged the attack just in time. The Scion scuttled back and you followed. You kept your distance, just out of its reach. That had been your undoing last time - you'd underestimated its reach back at the Chapel of Anticipation and gotten yourself skewered. This was the kind of enemy you had to let make the first move, trick it into leaving itself open, and punish its mistake then get out of there before it could do the same to you. Fast and brutal. Just how you liked to fight with a dagger. Not that a dagger was any use against a Grafted Scion; another lesson you'd learnt the hard way last time. But now you had a sword and more experience under your belt, you were ready for a rematch.

The Scion launched itself at you once more. You ducked underneath its arm and slashed across its armpit. Spatters of blood dyed the water below you. Lowering its head, it let out a scream forceful enough to knock you to the ground. With a wince you pushed yourself to your feet, only to slip once more. Fuck's sake, a lake was no place for a battle. If only there was more dry land nearby for you to lure the Grafted Scion towards, you might have somewhere safer to stand. Oh well, you'd just have to contend with slippery rocks as well as a murderous shapeshifting graft-spider.

It raised an arm - from its left this time, the one that bore a shield taller than you. A shield attack, maybe? Or preparing some wide attack from the right? Either way, it left itself exposed. You dodged around it and, as the Scion slammed the shield into the ground, you jabbed your sword into its back. It spun on itself and stabbed at you. Pain seared through your shoulder. The tip of the Scion's sword glinted with your blood as it tore back out of you. It had been a lucky blow, sinking deep enough to scrape against the bone. Hissing with the pain, holding down the rags of flesh and stemming the blood with your hand, you backed off from the Scion. It pursued you, but you were nimble enough to keep out of its reach. You concentrated on your shoulder and cast a healing incantation. The wound flooded with flesh like water pouring into a cup, and the skin joined itself together over the top. You could hardly afford to stop the fight to heal yourself, but against a foe like this, even a small injury might mean the difference between life and death. You darted within range of the Scion and it took its chance. You ducked the sword that swung at your neck and slashed at the creature's side with all the strength you could muster, driven by pure adrenaline. Another attack came but you dodged once more and drove your blade into the creature's grafted flesh. The horrid limbs contorted. As the Scion turned on you, you caught a glimpse of narrowed eyes and gritted teeth. You were hurting it. Your earlier attacks had matted its body with blood. A flash of movement to the side. You reacted on instinct. You raised your sword and parried the incoming blow hard enough to knock the Grafted Scion back, and jammed your blade into the creature's neck. It screeched, its once-human teeth bared in a grimace. You thrust your sword deeper, feeling it sink deep into the flesh, then with one final shove, forced the creature away from you.

The Scion reared onto its... back legs? Gods, there was something unpleasant about a creature with human limbs having 'back legs'. In any case, it reared up, one sword raised and preparing to strike. What form that strike would take you couldn't predict. The stance put you in mind of fencing, but its grip was too loose. Malleable. The Grafted Scion didn't know what it was going to do either. It was watching to see what you did next, and it would adapt its next move in response. Using your own tactics against you. You weren't going to make things that easy for it. You ran, and your enemy scuttled after you, splashing with each step. You weren't going to attack the Scion. You'd force it to close the distance between you and use that moment of vulnerability to strike.

Once it realised you were too far away, it lunged for you and stabbed nothing but thin air. The moment you'd seen that sword move, you changed course and looped behind the Scion. You hacked away at the creature. Chunks of once-human flesh dropped from its body and landed in the water. Something splashed through the water behind you, something that was getting louder. It didn't sound like footsteps, exactly - it was more like something creeping through the water, but at some speed. A blue glow streaked through the air, trailing from a dark shape that had leapt over you and landed on the Scion's back. Blaidd plunged his blade into the thing's neck. Frost erupted in a burst around the blade. The cape across the Scion's back, already wet from battling in a lake, froze rigid. Tendrils of hair that had been hanging limp now formed icicles over a frost-rimed face. Its eyes shone unseeing, glittering like a flame trapped behind the glass of a lantern. The ice magic of Blaidd's attack had partially frozen the Scion. Its limbs jerked in an attempt to crack the crust of ice that had formed over them. It would break free at any moment; you had no time to think, only act. The half-wolf leapt from the Scion's back, and might have landed on you if you hadn't slipped under the Scion's belly. You rammed your blade straight up through its underside as Blaidd focused on its neck. Unlike the neck, the Scion's belly had not frozen, and your sword vanished into the defenceless meat almost to the hilt. Its knees collapsed from under it. You yanked your sword free and ran. Your way was blocked by Blaidd, and in that moment of darting around him, the Scion plummeted. You'd almost gotten yourself clear when suddenly all its weight landed on your foot. You yelped in pain and tugged yourself out from under it. Blaidd crouched beside you, panting, ears low and eyes full of worry as you examined your crushed foot. It visibly throbbed with your pulse, and it looked like a bone or two had broken. It was nothing you couldn't heal, though. You set your hands gingerly on your foot and concentrated.

"Forgive me, Ma'am. I didn't mean to get in your way."
"It's alright. I should have looked where I was going." The healing incantation shifted your bones into place and fused them together, and the swelling subsided. It was still tender, but at least you'd be able to walk on it. "How did you know where to find me?"
"I woke not long after you left, and assumed you had gone hunting. I would have left you to it, had the breeze not carried the sound of combat and a swearing Tarnished."
You gave a huff of laughter. Perhaps you could have defeated that Grafted Scion yourself, but if you hadn't, then being an unmaidenly lout had saved you.
"Thanks. That was the last thing I expected. I just wanted a bit of trout..." you muttered ruefully as you poked through the Scion's remains with the tip of your sword. No hunger in the world would drive you to eat graft-meat. The cape, on the other hand, would come in useful for something. You stooped and bundled up the swathe of wet fabric. It was a deep, rich green, emblazoned with gold and silver decoration. Such a luxurious cloth to drape over a monster. Had it belonged to one of its victims? Under the blanket, something sparkled from within the water, and you picked it up. It looked like a liver, but faint patterns drifted along its silver surface like a tide, and it seemed to ripple in your grasp.

"Blaidd, do you know what this thing is?"
You held up the liver to him. His breath caught and his ears pivoted forward. His eyes were wide, even the one buried under scar tissue, as he brought reverent fingertips to the organ.
"A rare and valuable substance, Ma'am. Bring it with us."
You squinted down at it. If not for the colour and the grotesque writhing, it would just be another piece of offal. And yet you'd heard the little gasp as he set eyes on it. For all his rapt attention, you might have been holding the Elden Ring itself.
"Who's this thing valuable to?"
"Sorcerers in the art of rebirth."
"Never heard of it."
"It is not a common discipline," he replied. His eyes had turned curiously soft, and he gazed upon the liver with a kind of tenderness. "Rebirth allows one to discard their body and be born anew, in a form of their own choosing."
What a strange form of magic! Strange, but it could be useful. You'd had idle dreams - as had most people, you were sure - of changing something or other about your physical appearance. Rebirth really allowed you to create a new body for yourself? When you thought about it, it was more useful than you realised. For people whose bodies had been ravaged by illness or injuries, such magic was a blessing. Wait. If it was such an obscure branch of magic, then how did Blaidd learn of it? ...You knew that he'd had difficulties with human lovers in the past, lovers who had not accepted his form. Had your poor love sought out ways to change himself for them? In your eyes he was beautiful, perfect even, exactly as he was. But what did he truly see, deep down, at the sight of his own reflection? Did he truly accept himself, as he'd claimed back at Redmane? Or was there still some poison nestling in his heart that he kept hidden?
"...How do you know all this?" you asked softly.
"Of all the sorcerers in the Lands Between, I know only one capable of this art. Queen Rennala. My stepmother."

So that was how he knew of it. Still, part of your heart ached at the thought that, perhaps in his younger days, he might have gone to his mother full of self-loathing and asked about rebirth. If Rennala hadn't granted him a new body, then maybe she saw the beauty in him that you did. She must love him exactly as he was. Although you had never met her and knew little about her, you found yourself warming to the kindly mother your mind painted her as.

Blaidd helped you up and you set your weight on your healed foot. Perfect. No pain at all. You wriggled your toes experimentally. No sign of having been crushed under a Grafted Scion. It couldn't have been better if Blaidd's mother had rebirthed it.

A spark of inspiration flared into a bright blaze. It was wild, possibly hare-brained, but who knew what magic was capable of? If magic made it possible to discard one's body and be reborn in a completely new form, one with no connection to the previous body... It all depended on exactly how the Two Fingers' bond with Blaidd manifested, but you may have just figured out how to save him. And this weird little organ that glistened like quicksilver - this precious Larval Tear - was the key.

Chapter Text

The Three Sisters lay in the far northwest of Liurnia, as far from Stormhill as they could get without toppling into the sea. You'd consulted your maps and found that it didn't really matter which way you went around Liurnia Lake. Perhaps following the lake shore to the east might get you there half a day sooner, but Blaidd knew the western coast like the back of his hand. The west had long been Carian territory. His familiarity with the terrain would close up those few hours' difference. And so the two of you had headed west - and what a stroke of luck that was, you thought to yourself as you contemplated the Larval Tear that lay safe and sound in your spectral inventory. If you hadn't crossed the lake where you had, you'd never have run into that Grafted Scion, and you'd never have learnt of the magic that might rewrite Blaidd's fate.

The question was how to tell him. You assumed from Iji's reluctance to discuss the matter that even Blaidd didn't know what would happen to him once Ranni rebelled against the Two Fingers. Would the news hit him as hard as it had hit you? Would he be in a fit state to listen to your solution? It was too big for just one discussion. Maybe you should let him process what being shadowbound really meant before you brought up the topic of rebirth. Or maybe not. If he ruminated on his own nature too long, he might lose himself in the horror of it all. Maybe you'd better get the Two Fingers stuff out of the way as quickly as possible and then bring up rebirth before it sank in too far.

Water hemmed you in on both sides. A few miles to your left rolled the ocean, tumbling against cliffs that it would once day sweep away. Much closer was the lake on your right, its rippling at the shore subtler but no less definite in the eventual sinking of Liurnia. Insects darted over the water's surface, as restless as your thoughts. Clouds of gnats that almost glowed in the low, late afternoon sun. Occasionally, a little mayfly weaved through them, delicate and diaphanous, more like a wisp of light than a creature as mortal as any other.

"Blaidd, we need to talk about something."
The words were out of your mouth before you knew you were speaking. Damn it, you'd been waiting for a better time to talk about it, and here you were just blurting it out.
"As I said before, do not worry for me. Once I see Mistress Ranni with my own eyes, then I can finally rest. Unless..." The half-wolf cocked his head and scanned your face. "This is of another matter?"
You wondered how to take the words back and save them for later. But when? There'd never be a good time for something like this. You couldn't think of a more sensitive way to broach the conversation. You'd already been silent long enough for Blaidd to frown. Fuck it, just get it over with now and pick up the pieces.
"It is. It's..."

You had prepared for this. You really had. The day's travels had passed in a flurry of thought as you stitched together words and thoughts in your mind, setting them out so carefully, and now all that work flew out of your mind. It was just him, you, your empty head and your clumsy tongue.

"Blaidd, I'm scared that something's going to happen to you if Ranni gets hold of that Nokron blade."
"Any ambition worth pursuing is worth fighting for. I am no stranger to hardship, Ma'am, and reclaiming Ranni's fate is worth any danger. Please, calm these fears for me."
You clenched your fists. "No, you don't get it - there's more going on than you know."
"What do you mean?"
"Ranni getting that blade will destroy you. Not 'might', or 'could'. It will destroy you."
Blaidd's mouth parted, then closed once more. He stared out across the lake with a frown, apparently struggling to gather his own thoughts.
"...I don't understand," he finally answered.
"Shadows are made to serve their master, but at the end of the day they're tools for the Two Fingers. They didn't just give you to Ranni as a servant, but as a weapon. Once Ranni turns against them, they'll tear out your soul. You'll be a puppet that they use to murder Ranni."

He stared into your face, searching out any flicker of doubt from your expression, but he found nothing. A shallow growl rumbled in his throat. It thickened and thickened until his lips curled back in a snarl of rage.

"That's not true!" he barked. "How can you speak such lies?"
"They're not lies, Blaidd! I swear that everything I'm telling you is true."
"And how could you know of such things? A Tarnished of no renown - is that not the phrase they use for your kind? A badlander who's known the Lands Between for but a few months, and now you presume to know more than Lady Ranni?"
"Ranni knows too! And so does Iji! You're the only one who doesn't!"

Blaidd flinched. You hadn't meant to yell at him like that. Whether it was the volume of your voice or the impact of your words, a flicker of distress passed through his face and for a moment, he was not a warrior but a lost pup. That helpless look in his eyes made you want to wrap your arms around him, but it was gone as soon as it appeared.

"...Iji knows too?" He spoke much more quietly now, but his voice had lost none of the growl.
"It's Iji who told me," you breathed back, mindful of your own volume this time.
"I don't understand... You claim my sister, my best friend, the one for whom I exist, has been lying to me? And old Iji is part of the conspiracy?"
"I know it's a lot to take in, but please believe me."
"One of you is lying." He backed away. His ears hung low, and that lost expression was back in his eyes, pale and haunted once more. "I don't understand what's going on here, but whether it is you, Iji, or Ranni, one of the people I trusted most has lied to me."
"Blaidd." You moved towards him and reached for his hand, but he took another step back, out of your range. "This time tomorrow, we should have passed Kingsrealm Ruins. We'll probably see Iji. He can give us news of Ranni, if that'll make you feel better, and you can ask him yourself about what I've said. He'll back me up. I want to talk to him about it anyway - I've had an idea about how to save you, but I don't know if it'll work."

It came out as a pathetic little afterthought tacked on to the end of the conversation, and you may as well not have said it for all the notice that Blaidd took. He was quiet for the rest of the day. His attention kept drifting to the northwest, where his ears would flatten and his eyes widen in some wordless, helpless plea to the horizon. It broke your heart to see him like that. You tried to slip your hand into his a few times, but he never took hold of it. You weren't sure he even knew you were there. You let your hand drop.

Dinner passed in silence but for the lapping of water at the lakeshore, the sound of birds coming in to roost and the first stirrings of nocturnal creatures. You drew close to his bedroll afterwards, and the empty lavender stare that met you sent you scuttling off to the opposite side of the camp and unrolling your Euklisia rug. Blaidd simply stared at that instead. He... did remember you had your own bedroll, right? He looked like he'd never seen it before. He gave a little twitch. Silence. Another twitch of his head. He fixed his gaze on you, and twitched again. Ah. He was nodding towards his bedroll. You slipped in beside him, waiting for his arms to wrap around you. They didn't.

"'Night, Blaidd. Love you," you whispered into the darkness. This new, distant half-wolf frightened you, but you wouldn't show it. You would meet him with love, the same as you always had.
Just as you were about to fall asleep, an arm wrapped around your shoulders and hugged you tight to him. A sigh of relief, tinged with a yawn, slipped from you and you snuggled into him as if you were trying to dig down to the Blaidd you knew was still there. His arm was so strong, his chest as thickly-furred and musky-foresty-wolf-scented as always. Despite it all, he never spoke a word.

You'd forgotten how grim Liurnia was sometimes. You woke to an overcast sky - not dark enough to foretell rain, but just enough to tint the sunlight grey and drain most of the colour from your surroundings. Even when the cloud cover broke around midday and let the sun through, Liurnia remained muted through its mists. You couldn't help wishing you were back in Limgrave. At least Limgrave was warm. At least Blaidd had been warm back then too. A good night's sleep hadn't improved his mood. Somehow walking with a silent companion was lonelier than travelling on your own. You prayed that Iji would help to put your lover's mind at rest - not just for his sake but yours. It felt a little selfish to admit it when Blaidd's pain was so much greater than yours, but part of you resented Blaidd thinking you'd lied to him. It would be fine, though. You knew you were telling the truth, and Iji would back you up, right? He wouldn't lie to protect Ranni, would he...? Shit. Iji was a decent person, but his loyalty was sworn to Ranni, not you. There was a chance, however slight, that Iji would simply bury his head in the sand and the truth with it. As soon as that thought crossed your mind, you began to dread the reunion, the anxiety in your stomach building with each hour that passed. Let Iji tell the truth, no matter how unpleasant it is. Don't let his vow to Ranni become a betrayal of Blaidd. Please.

When something shone high in the distance up ahead, the butterflies in your stomach died down and surged into life all at once. The top of Iji's mirror-clad head gleamed like a beacon when the sun caught it. Blaidd had seen the blacksmith too, for his ears pricked up and his stride lengthened until you had to run to keep up with him. Iji looked over his book at the sound of footsteps rushing through the grass, and he gazed down at you.

"Well, good day to you both. It feels many a moon since you passed here last."
Iji's voice was the same as always, a warm and dependable creak like an oak beam.
"I suppose it has been," was all you could come up with. How long had it been, anyway? The last time you'd seen him in person, you'd been talking about Nokron. Before you'd found the way to Dragonbarrow. Summer had hardly begun then, and now the tree beside him was clad in autumnal gold. It must have been even longer since Blaidd had called on him.
"Far too long, friend," Blaidd agreed. "What news of Lady Ranni?"
"She is well." The half-wolf's tail fluttered at Iji's words. "I have advised our Lady on the journey she plans. Her preparations near their end."
"Glad to hear it. She'll be around if we call on her, right?" Blaidd asked. "I'd like to see her myself before we rejoin the path to Nokron."
"Most likely. Only the treasure of Nokron stands between Lady Ranni and her fate. As soon as it is in her hand, she will be ready to depart. I pray that you return from the Eternal City unscathed and victorious. Our Lady depends on you both."

Well, this was it. You sucked in a breath that shuddered around your lungs, somewhere behind your pounding heart.

"It's not only Ranni's fate that hangs in the balance, though, is it?"
Iji turned his head toward you, tilting it to one side questioningly. If his face had been visible, you could easily imagine he was blinking down at you right now.
"Iji, do you remember telling me that if an Empyrean turns against their Two Fingers, then the Two Fingers will use their shadow to destroy them?"
The blacksmith glanced to Blaidd in silence and closed his book.
"Iji?" Blaidd asked softly.
"It was spoken by accident," Iji murmured.
"So you were the liar," Blaidd growled - not at Iji, but at you. Blood rushed to your face until it felt ready to burst. He'd misunderstood Iji, and now you were the enemy. You began to object, but Iji raised a hand.
"That was not my meaning, Blaidd. I did tell our Tarnished friend of this, but I did not mean to. I let some of the truth slip, and she uncovered the rest."
"Then... is everything she said true?" The half-wolf raised his head, fixing you and Iji in turn with a bewildered frown. "That the Two Fingers will turn me against Lady Ranni? And that you and she both knew of this?"
"We sought to spare you the burden, my friend. We agreed that the knowledge might perturb you. It was for your own good."
"And yet it's something that's bound to happen if we get this blade for Ranni," you interrupted. "Shouldn't he have been prepared for it? He's the one it'll happen to! He's got more right to know than anyone else!"
"Getting angry at Iji will not help matters," Blaidd cut in, but the troll bowed his head.

"I see now that our choice of action may not have been the wisest. I myself have pondered how much you should be told. But the cat is out of the bag, as they say, and cannot be put back in. Whether for better or worse, the truth of it is laid out for all to see, and there is no changing it."
"What the fuck are you talking about?!" The blacksmith startled and stared down at you, the glass panels of his mirrorhelm catching the sun in a dazzling glare. Blaidd cleared his throat - probably about to tell you not to swear at Iji - but you stormed on before he had chance. "Who knows more about changing someone's fate than you guys? You've spent all this time fighting to free Ranni's destiny so she can take control of it, yet you're going to sit there and tell me it's impossible to do the same for Blaidd?!"
"If Blaidd could be saved, then surely Lady Ranni would have taken such measures already."
"You mean she hasn't?"
"I am not privy to all of our Lady's machinations," Iji admitted, "but I have no knowledge of her doing so."
"But you told me yourself that there are ways of stopping the Outer Gods! There are materials that can ward them off, like unalloyed gold!"

Something about your words stopped Iji in his tracks. One hand silently rose to his helm and his finger traced along a pane of glass. You were reminded of your old suspicion that those pieces of glass were such a substance, and your anger flared up even fiercer. If he was seriously going to claim that nothing could be done for Blaidd while wearing something that might save him...! But your throat ached from how much you'd yelled at him already. Blaidd had chastised you for it once before, and Iji cut an oddly pathetic figure for his size. His head and shoulders slumped before him, and the finger that fidgeted with his helm trembled. Even without seeing his face, guilt and regret radiated from him. He was not only a blacksmith a little on the large side, nor the War Counsellor for the Carian Royal Family. He was also an old man who thought he had acted for the best, but whose weakness had now been exposed, and nobody was sorrier for it than him.

"These are rare materials indeed. Perhaps Lady Ranni is unable to source more. Oh, if I had some Nox mirror-glass to spare, then I would gladly craft something..."
So for all his remorse, Iji would not offer any of his own helm-glass to Blaidd. He was too afraid of leaving himself vulnerable to the Greater Will. And the needle in your possession was apparently useless unless it was mended, something that was beyond even Iji's skill.

You forced your hands to unclench and your voice to keep some kind of steadiness to it.
"I might have a solution. It's a bit of a long shot, but I want to run it by you. You know about a lot of things, more than we do. Do you know anything about rebirth?"
"The crafting by magic of a new body in which the soul may reside. A discipline our Lady's mother, Queen Rennala, is well-versed in. You would do well to take questions of rebirth to her. Although... she may be in no state to answer them."
Whatever the problem with Rennala was, you'd cross that bridge when you got to it. Right now, you needed answers from anyone able to provide them.
"But you know of it?"
"I know a little of it."
"Do you think that if Blaidd was reborn, that might break the Two Fingers' hold on him?"

Iji mulled it over. His head lifted just a little, and a tone of wonderment entered his voice, like a break of hesitant sun through a clouded sky.

"It is possible.... Yes, I think it is possible. The Two Fingers crafted him, body and soul, to serve both Lady Ranni and themselves. His soul is therefore bound to Lady Ranni as well as the Two Fingers, to ensure his loyalty to both. But most of the bond with the Two Fingers resides in his physical nature. Binding him in this way grants them the lion's share of control over him. Enough to overrule the connection with Lady Ranni, should the need arise, and divest him of his soul to leave only a husk ruled by their whims. But were you to be reborn, Blaidd, I believe that much of your tie to them would be shed with your flesh. A new body would belong to you alone, to pledge as you wish."
"You truly think that it will work?" Blaidd asked.
"I do, my friend."
"...It's not that I fear death. I have died for Mistress Ranni before and I would do so again. Both of you know that." He cast each of you a stern look, his eyes bright and steely, even the one pressed half-closed by his scars.
"We know," you replied.
"And I may look like a battered old man-wolf to some," he continued with a mirthless laugh, "but my form brings no shame to me. However, if we sever this tie that binds me to the Two Fingers, then I will be better able to serve Ranni, no matter what. And... to be with you, M-" he added in a whisper, almost calling you 'Ma'am' before stopping himself. Poor Iji was to be spared the exact nature of your relationship.
"I advise you to seek out Queen Rennala's wisdom on the matter before you commit to any course of action," the blacksmith repeated. "None knows more about the art of rebirth than she."
"We shall." You offered him a shallow bow. "Thank you for the truth, Iji."
"Forgive me for withholding it for so long. May your scheme be successful, and put this all to rights. And yet..." Iji's gaze drifted towards the towers barely visible to the north. "Lady Ranni... She knows far more of it than I. It is her mother's magic, and she was always close with the Queen. Why did such a scheme not occur to her...? If it lay within the realm of possibility to change Blaidd's fate, then why did she not...?"

If you'd thought that speaking to Iji would improve things for Blaidd, you were wrong. He was quieter and more pensive than ever. His brow was scrunched over eyes clouded with thought. He was okay, right? Was it just him coming to terms with what he'd learnt, or was there something else going on? Just as you'd resigned yourself to a future of little conversation, Blaidd wrapped his hand around yours and squeezed it.

"I owe you an apology, Ma'am. I'm still not sure what all this is about, but you're not the liar I thought you to be."
"Thanks." You ran your thumb over his palm, and his grip tightened to trap it in his hand. "I know it was a big thing to come to terms with, but I wish you'd trusted in me a bit more. I'd never lie to you like that."
"Is it possible that you and Iji are both mistaken, though...?" he mused. "The picture you paint of Lady Ranni is not one I recognise. She knows I am ready to die for her, yet I cannot believe she would cast me aside so readily. There must be a mistake somewhere."
"I never know what she's thinking." There was no shame in admitting it. That icy exterior hid depths that even the brightest light would never reach the bottom of. "Maybe she's got some secret plan in the works."
You didn't add that you doubted that was the case, especially after what Iji said. Far safer to expect nothing of Ranni and prepare accordingly. Blaidd needed at least one person looking out for his safety - because as he'd said himself in the simple sincerity with which he pledged his life to his mistress, that person would not be him.

All Blaidd's tension seemed to concentrate once more as you approached the Three Sisters, backlit by the setting sun. His posture was stiff and alert, a hound fixated on a familiar scent. Every bit of stress over the past week or so was bottled up inside him, rattling around until you thought he'd explode from the pressure. It was funny how being separated from a loved one worked. The closer a reunion drew, the harder the wait was to bear. Weeks might pass in a numbed blur, and yet it was the last few days, hours, minutes that became torture. Blaidd paced around the edges of the lifting platform like a trapped animal, and took the stairs to Ranni's chamber two at a time. You ran after him, your own heart thumping. At least seeing Ranni would let you get back on the trail of the fallen star, but you didn't trust yourself not to fly at her if she really was prepared to just leave Blaidd to the Two Fingers.

"Lady Ranni!"
"Blaidd."

There she stood, cool and collected as always, her gaze impassive, and yet there was a certain soft light to her eyes as she looked over you from under the wide brim of her hat.
"Such an air of disquiet that hangeth about the both of you," she said quietly. "What ails you? The way to Nokron doth not remain closed, surely?"
"We postponed the mission," Blaidd admitted. "My fears for you grew too great. I had to see you in the flesh in order to put my mind at rest."
The ghost of a smile played across Ranni's mouth. "Well, now thou hast seen me, brother. Be at peace. No harm hath befallen me, and none shall. And the two of you are still well? I find you as Blaidd reporteth last?"
You nodded.
"Very well. What course shalt thou take next, Blaidd?"
"The Tarnished and I will return to Limgrave, and seek out the fallen star. Perhaps we'll call on Mother on our way."

That tiny widening of the eyes was the nearest you'd ever seen to surprise on Ranni's doll-like face, but it was so brief that you weren't sure whether you'd really seen it or if it was just a trick of the light.

"Our mother? What business hath thee with her?"
Blaidd fell silent. You saw the silent panic in his face. He hadn't meant to say out loud that he wanted to visit Raya Lucaria, but he had no way of taking the words back. Did the Two Fingers prevent him from lying to Ranni, or was it his own honest nature? Either way, you had to help him.
"It doesn't have to be Rennala; any astrologer would do. We, uh, thought someone from the Academy might have seen the star fall and guide us towards where it landed. It'd save us some time looking for it."
Ranni's attention switched from Blaidd to you, and you had the curious sensation of her stare passing right through you. Cold, glassy eyes bored into yours, but you forced yourself not to look away. Seconds had never felt so long before. Did Ranni's ice magic somehow freeze time as well? Finally, she turned to Blaidd once more.
"Very well. Do what thou feel is right. Those words are for thee also, Tarnished. ...Our journey draws to a close, does it not? Perhaps it is time to grant thee more freedom, loosen mine hand about thee... Do as thou wilt."

Ranni hadn't been fooled at all, had she? That was the impression her stare had given you, anyway. She knew you'd lied to her, but she didn't disapprove of it. Neither did she seem to approve. If anything, she was washing her hands of it. Stepping back and letting you do as you pleased. As she'd said, her goal was within sight. Once you returned from Nokron with its fabled blade, Ranni would strike down the Two Fingers and prepare her ascension to godhood. Nothing else mattered, and what you did was of no consequence. The curtain would fall on Ranni's great dream, her vassals' purposes, and perhaps on Blaidd's life. It sounded like she truly hadn't prepared anything to save him. Everything depended on you now.

You took Blaidd's wrist and nodded towards the doorway. If you had to look into that emotionless face much longer, knowing that she was probably about to abandon her step-brother, you'd pry her eyes out with your knife. They were probably just glass anyway. Big beads of glass in that porcelain doll's face. Or chips of ice, like her heart must be.
"We'll take our leave, Mistress Ranni. The next time we see you, may it be with Nokron's treasure in our hands."
Blaidd followed his farewell with a bow. You didn't. Not a flicker of surprise from Ranni as her eyes met yours. You both knew, and you knew the other knew.

Night had crept in quickly. The sun had almost completely disappeared by the time you reached the ground floor of Ranni's Rise.
"Fuck. We'll have to be quick about finding Grace." You poked your head through the doorway and looked about for a glimmer of gold. "Might be better making a regular camp while we can still see."
Blaidd gave you a quizzical look. "What need have we for a camp? My chamber is nearby."
"Your...?" Wait, Blaidd had his own quarters here? ...Why did that surprise you? It only made sense that he'd live somewhere close to Ranni. "You're okay with me sharing?"
"Why not? You've shared your hospitality with me many times. I'd like to return the favour."
A smile hid in the corner of his mouth as he walked back into the tower and drew his sword. Before you could ask what he was doing, he drove the blade into the floor. The stone slabs cracked around the point of impact and - vanished. You stared at the space that was left behind. A passageway, a set of steps leading down into what you'd assumed to be the foundations of the tower. At the bottom of the steps waited an archway. Blaidd led the way, pausing to light the occasional candle in the sconces lining the wall.

You'd never thought about what his bedroom would look like, but what met you beyond the archway resembled the rooms that lay above ground, a chamber of austere stone and dark wooden furniture. Less books scattered about here than upstairs, although there were a few lining the back of a desk that must have been made for him. Almost everything was sized for a half-wolf, in fact - around you were the largest desk, the largest chair, the largest bed you'd seen in a long time. Each had some form of engraving to them, ornate but not ostentatious. Furniture from his youth as a Carian prince, perhaps? And another oversized thing to add to the list was the fireplace set into one wall. You could walk into it without bumping your head. The stack of firewood beside it was nearly as tall as you. Now that you looked closely, there was a sense of cosiness to the room, a manifest desire to be warm and comfortable despite being a stone cellar. Rugs hid much of the no-doubt cold floor, and the bed was hung with curtains and topped with some kind of fur bedspread.

"This is nice," you told him. His smile widened, and he began to load wood into the fireplace. Other than Redmane Castle, you hadn't slept in an actual bedroom for years, but you'd cope. It was quite luxurious, really, having a roaring fire moments away with no risk of damp firewood and a chimney to funnel away the smoke. Not to mention a bed already waiting for you. Hang on a moment. "Is it okay for me to share the bed? I'll sleep by the hearth otherwise."
"There'll be no talk of you sleeping by the hearth."
He stepped back as the fire surged into life and flooded the room with light. You sat before it, pulling off your boots and socks and letting your feet bask in the heat. Metal clanked beside you as Blaidd removed his armour and settled down beside you. You nudged your foot against his, and he laid his hand over yours.
"You feeling okay, big guy?" you asked.
"I think so. Better than I was, certainly."
"Why'd you tell Ranni that we're going to Raya Lucaria?" Blaidd had already accepted you were telling the truth, but if he wanted to call on Queen Rennala, that could only mean one thing.
"Because we are, Ma'am." His eyes shone, bright and determined as the glint of a blade. "I have a few questions for Mother. As long as she thinks that her magic will help us, then I'll let myself be reborn."

Chapter Text

It was the mattress shifting below you as Blaidd climbed out of bed that roused you from your slumber. You weren't quite ready to open your eyes, not when you were so warm and snug. Your drowsy mind couldn't place where you'd spent the night, but wherever it was, you hadn't slept on something so comfortable - other than Blaidd - in a long time. You buried yourself deeper in the sheets and snuggled into the half-wolf-sized patch of warmth he'd left behind. Fabric rustled over fur as he presumably dressed himself, and padded footsteps grew fainter. Where was he going? Where were you, anyway? You opened one bleary eye and peered around the room you found yourself in. Ah. Yes. This was Blaidd's bedroom, below Ranni's Rise. No wonder the bed had seemed so peculiar in its softness. This was the second ceiling you'd woken under in as many months, and the luxury of indoor life was still unfamiliar to you. Your curiosity overrode your desire to sink back into sleep and so, rolling yourself upright and throwing some clothes on, you took the opportunity to explore Blaidd's chamber a little more. Not that you were going to poke around in the drawers or anything. There was just so much that you hadn't noticed last night.

Your eye was drawn to one corner of the room, where a thick stake - more of a log, really - protruded from a bucket. A wooden training sword stood propped against the bucket's rim. You ran your fingers over the stake. The slashes and grooves scored into the wood were as deep as they looked. Most were long and neat, yet you found the occasional gouge that looked like it had been left by claws or even, in the case of a curving line of dents, a row of fangs. A target to practice fighting techniques, perhaps?

The massive desk yielded its own curios. You stood on tiptoe for a closer look at the chart hanging on the wall above it, mapping out the stars of the night sky. Below the chart, the back of the desk was lined by a row of books. Almost everything else in the room had been built for Blaidd's proportions, but these were no bigger than typical books. They were an eclectic yet well-thumbed mix. Flicking through them, you found novels and plays among short histories and what appeared to be combat training manuals. You hadn't heard of most of these. You were about to pull one out for closer inspection when something glittered in the corner of your eye. A silver box stood tucked into a back corner of the desk. Like the books, the box had been made for much smaller hands than Blaidd's. It was a work of filigree so dainty that it looked like it might melt if you breathed on it, let alone touched it. In the centre of the lid shone a metallic moon, surrounded by constellations of glintstone chips. You consulted the star chart. Yes, the pattern of stars was accurate - not only in placement, but in scale. Every detail was perfect. You were tempted to open it, but stopped yourself. Not only would that violate Blaidd's trust, but there was something not quite right about the box itself. It didn't fit in. Blaidd's furnishings may be luxurious, but none of his other possessions were as delicate or intricate as this. Maybe you'd read something after all. Your finger had just settled on top of a book's spine, ready to draw it out from the shelf, when its owner appeared in the doorway with a tray.

"Morning, Ma'am."
He nodded toward the fire. You wandered over as he sat before it and laid out the tray. You must have been staring at what he brought, because he gave the contents of the tray a quizzical once-over.
"It's hardly anything out of the ordinary. Merely bread, cheese and fish."
"But it's fancy," you breathed.
Blaidd gave a little snort of amusement.
"We've eaten cheese and fish before, Ma'am, and I don't recall you being so excited then."
"Well, no, but this is the good stuff!"

You picked up a chunk of bread and squeezed it, savouring the ease with which it yielded in your hand. You were used to foods that travelled well and kept for ages without spoiling. It was rare to find a merchant with fresh food outside a city. The last time you'd bought bread, the crust had been so thick and hard you could have used it as a hammer. A soft loaf like this would never survive your lifestyle. It would go mouldy within a couple of days, if being jostled about in your backpack didn't reduce it to a heap of crumbs first. And likewise, you'd never seen a travelling merchant selling cheese soft enough to spread. They'd need to hoist an icebox around with them or else it'd go off. No, solid smoked cheeses were all your Runes usually got you, and they were a treat in themselves.

"If it's not to your taste, then come with me and find something else."
You slathered your bread with cheese before he could take it off you. "No, I love it. I've just never had such a luxurious breakfast before. Thank you."
The half-wolf tilted his head and peered at the tray as if there was some secret hidden inside it, something he could solve if he frowned at it enough.
"It's... bread and cheese."
"Fancy bread and cheese."

Commoner as you were, at least you knew smoked fish well enough. You draped a little onto your bread and sank your teeth into it. The combination of savoury fish, creamy cheese and soft bread was delicious. Someone like you was never supposed to feast like this. Fine foods like these were reserved for the tables of nobles. People like Blaidd, who had grown up with mattresses and wheat bread and saw such decadence as normal. Blaidd had shared in your vagabond lifestyle, sleeping in the wild without complaint, but now the differences between you really hit home. Was this what you'd have to get used to when you became Elden Lord? Would you become so used to this kind of life that you stopped noticing it? It'd take you a while to adapt, but it had to be possible. After all, Blaidd navigated both lifestyles so well. Surely he'd help you find your feet.

"So," you began, trying not to spray crumbs everywhere, "Raya Lucaria next, or Nokron?"
"Raya Lucaria. We must pass it on our way to find the fallen star; we may as well pay a visit."

The Academy was impossible to miss when its silhouette loomed so high over the mists of Liurnia - there probably wasn't a spot in the region you couldn't see the Academy from. Still, you knew little of the place, or of its governess. Iji had referred to a schism between Raya Lucaria and the Carian royal family when you first met. Everything you'd heard of Rennala had depicted her as a kindly and accepting mother. Maybe that didn't translate well into running an academy, or perhaps there were other grievances against Queen Rennala. You found it hard to believe that Raya Lucaria would stage a revolt against her with no reason.

"You know how to get in, right?"
Blaidd's answer was to go to his desk and open the silver box. It disappeared under his enormous fingers as he lifted the lid, and a few tinkling notes chimed from it before the lid snapped shut once more. A music box, then. Even more curious. You forgot that line of thought when you saw what the half-wolf held out to you. Tucked into his palm was a key, its bow a loop of yet more silver filigree and a long piece of glintstone for a blade.

"We'll need this," he told you. "Magic binds the gates of Raya Lucaria shut, but this is no ordinary key. It recognises only the first person who uses it, and will never work for another. Mother - Queen Rennala granted each of her children their own key."
"Good job too, otherwise we'd have to climb the walls and look for a window or something."
"You can't climb it."
You blinked. "Why not?"
"It's too tall, and we have a key for the gate."
"But if we didn't, then -"
"You can't climb Raya Lucaria."
"Ugh...!"

Breaking into the Academy might have been fun, but there was a stern glint to Blaidd's eyes even above his smile. Still, having the key was a stroke of luck. The Lands Between were littered with corpses that always seemed to die with useful items in their grasp, but even if you did find a key for Raya Lucaria in some bloodied pocket or other, what were the odds that it had never been used before? Blaidd helped himself to another piece of bread, and you did the same.

"At least it's only the other side of the Bellum Highway. It must be, what, two dozen miles? We should be at the bridge by nightfall."
"No good," he replied. "That bridge is impassable."
"Are you serious?" You'd passed close to that bridge before. You knew that the great pillars spanning the lake towards the Academy had collapsed into chunks, some leaning upon their brethren for support while others had merely crumbled into the waters below. But that wasn't unusual in these gods-forsaken lands. Much of the Lands Between was falling to pieces. You'd just assumed that there'd be some safe route along the remains, just as every dilapidated bridge or building had had so far. "So what good's the key if we can't reach the gate?"
"Raya Lucaria has two gates. We'd have to enter through the south."
That would add another day's travel. Damn that bridge. ...It could be worse, you supposed. At least it was only one more day and not a week. At least Raya Lucaria had a second gate and you didn't have to figure out another way in. You let your annoyance at the bridge dissolve among the adrenaline that the thought of your next adventure conjured up. Freedom from the Two Fingers was close at hand. You smiled up at Blaidd, and your heart flooded with love when he smiled back.

You had no trouble keeping your spirits up during the day's trek. Even when the sun began to sink and you saw that, if the bridge had been passable, you really would have been somewhere near Raya Lucaria's gate now. Instead of attempting to reach the east gate, the two of you had skirted around the Academy. It clung to its pillar of rock, the mass looming improbably over Liurnia Lake like a giant mushroom, while you followed the shore around its stem.
But it was impossible to be too upset when Blaidd was the most animated he'd been since leaving Caelid. Gone was the heaviness in his shoulders, the anxiety darting through his eyes. There was a spring to his step and a bounce to his tail. And not only did he talk, he chattered. He told you of your destination, the academy of glintstone sorcery that he and his siblings had played in as children, the rebellion that had seen Raya Lucaria's knights turn on his mother when she was at her weakest. He listened to your ideas of where to find the fallen star, and helped you finetune your route across Limgrave. He laughed when you suggested climbing up the ruins of the bridge anyway. If you were honest, the main reason you said it was to watch that fang-snagged smile light up his face. Just seeing your love back to his usual self kept a grin on your face all day.

"You really were worried for Ranni, weren't you?" you asked over dinner that evening. You'd found Grace among the shallows, on an island just large enough to take a campfire and two bedrolls.
"I couldn't help but fear for her when we had been parted for so long. I must apologise again - I let my worries consume me and neglected my duties to you."

Bless him. His anxiety for Ranni's well-being spoke depths of his devotion to her, and yet he also felt guilty about the effect it had had on you. He may be far bigger than an ordinary human, but his heart was bigger still. Looking up to Raya Lucaria above you, you were reminded of his beloved mother, the woman who accepted him as her son without question. What if Rennala was just an older Ranni? You wanted to get along with her, and anyone who loved Blaidd couldn't be entirely bad in your book, but the last thing you needed was to face another inscrutable, unscrupulous family member who might misuse Blaidd's blind love of her. That wasn't going to be the case, was it?

You waved your hand dismissively, even though you still held a fork. "Forget about it. Anyone would have been the same if they were you. I'm just glad that you're happier now. I've missed how we used to be, all the banter and stuff."
"On that topic..." There was a dark twinkle to his eyes as he scooted closer, a shy grin playing in one corner of his muzzle while the tip of his tail whisked back and forth. "If you would like to... I've been thinking of what you proposed to do, so long ago. I'm ready to try it."
"Really?"
His smile widened, still a little lopsided, his lip still caught behind a fang.
"I'll try it, Ma'am. Only use that... stuff you spoke of, eh?"
"W-will do."

You set aside your cleared plate and dug out your crafting kit. It felt like an age since you'd last used it. You opened the cookbook you'd bought on Caelid Highway and propped it open, not on the grease recipe so familiar you could recite it, but on the lubricant. You'd never made this stuff before, but at least the recipe was a simple one - little more than Root Resin and Melted Mushrooms.

"I almost broached the topic last night," he admitted as you combined the ingredients, "but I thought better of it."
You looked up from your work. "How come?"
He gave no answer, but his cheeks flushed dark. You tried to bite back your giggle when you realised, but it came out as a splutter.
"I get it. You didn't want anyone putting their fingers up your arse with your sister upstairs."
Blaidd huffed, laughter mixed in with indignation. "Say that again and I'll rescind my permission."
"Come on, not when this is practically ready!"
You tipped the mixture into a jar and shook it. The liquid swished and settled, a thin fluid with a slight tint of amber to it. You ran a finger along the inside of the bowl you'd just tipped out and rubbed a smear of the lubricant between your finger and thumb. The texture was nothing like the thick oiliness you were used to from the magical grease. Your digits glided together where the lube coated them, and stopped exactly when you wanted to. Perfect. Smooth and effortless, but not so slick that you couldn't control your movements. That was exactly what you wanted. It would help Blaidd accommodate your fingers inside him while lowering the risk of hurting him in some clumsy accident. The half-wolf in question had been pretending he wasn't watching, instead focussing on the ravens settling in to roost in some nearby trees, but you caught the occasional sideways glance towards the crafting kit.

You still had a few dabs of grease left in the bottom of another jar. You coated your fingertips and sank them into your mouth. From the corner of your eye, you noticed Blaidd's gaze on you, fascinated but a little disturbed at the sight of your hand slowly vanishing into your mouth. It may look strange, and having your whole hand in your mouth was a hard thing to get used to, but it was important not to rush the process - otherwise, you'd have a bruised throat and he'd have a stubbed dick. Slowly and carefully you treated your mouth with the grease, right to the back of your throat, then set the jar next to the lube.
"There's enough left for you if you need it, Blaidd, but I don't think you will. I'll try with just the lube first. If there's any pain or discomfort, or you want to stop, use your safe words, okay?"
"Thank you, Ma'am. I will."
His eyes followed your raised hand hungrily, and his ear twitched at the sound of you snapping your fingers. The scene had begun.

Blaidd laid back against his bedroll, his wagging tail scuffing against the fabric as he began to strip from the waist down. You caught hold of his trousers once they were past his thighs and pulled them the rest of the way down. You ran your hands under his ass and gave him a quick squeeze. Taking the hint, he raised his hips so you could stuff some rolled-up blankets underneath to support him. You took his ankles and set his feet a little further apart. There. The half-wolf lay exposed to you now, legs parted and hips raised as if offering himself up for your approval. Taking a moment just to admire the view, you knelt between his feet.

"Does that feel all right? The blankets aren't going to slip or anything?"
"They feel steady."
"And you still want to do this?"
"I do, Ma'am."
You pressed a quick kiss to the side of his knee. "Good boy. Use your safewords or your gestures if you need them."

You skimmed your hand across the fur of his stomach and cradled his cock where it lay half-hard against his abdomen. You stroked along what of his shaft protruded from the sheath, and the rest soon slipped free into your waiting hand. You dipped your head and kissed the tip, enjoying the little shiver that passed through him, the way his lavender eyes were fixed on you as you drew your tongue along his cock, moving in tandem with the long, milking strokes of your hand. Your free hand went to his backside once more, and your fingertips traced over the curve of soft flesh before gently squeezing him again.
"If you're comfortable, I'm going to start, okay?"
Blaidd nodded.

Your lips brushed against the head of his cock before you gently took him into your mouth. Was he trembling under your attentions? Yes, there was just the barest tremble to him that you felt against your hands, against your mouth. You paused to check his expression. His knitted brow carried a hint of worry, but more than that, the look on his face was one of excitement, his eyes bright as if with hunger. He'd missed the more physical intimacy of your relationship just as much as you had, it seemed. You drew back.

"Relax for me, love. If you're too tense, it'll be more difficult. I don't want to hurt you."
He nodded once more, letting out a held breath as you returned to his cock and began to bob your head, letting his shaft slide against your tongue. Your hands buried themselves in the thick fur of his abdomen and traced over the skin. The tips of your fingers trailed through his undercoat in a winding path down his body and veered off at his pelvis, each hand caressing one of his thighs. Blaidd's hand cupped the back of your head and his fingers mimicked yours as they sank through your hair and stroked along your scalp. You let his cock drop from your mouth and kissed it just below the head, right on the spot you knew was particularly sensitive. You let one hand wrap around the base of his cock, holding it at a better angle for you to resume sucking him off, while the other dipped lower. Pressing just behind his balls, you ran one finger along his perineum, back and forth in a slow, soothing line. No sign of unease from Blaidd, so you pressed in just a little harder. A sharp gasp from above you made you flinch away from him. But when you examined his face to see what was wrong, you found only flushed cheeks and shining eyes.
"Apologies," he mouthed. "Green."
You fought the urge to chuckle at that. He must have realised his reaction had startled you. Still, at least he didn't hate being touched like that. Quite the opposite, in fact - he'd used the safeword to keep going.

Running your tongue down his cock as you sank down it, you massaged his perineum once more. Now you knew he liked your touch there, you began to experiment with how you teased him, testing how much pressure he liked, what direction he liked you to stroke him. You soon found a steady rhythm between your head and your hand. With each sweep of your fingers, skimming from behind his balls to pause just above his entrance, your lips and tongue sank down Blaidd's shaft until the tip nudged at the back of your mouth, and you timed them both so that each caress, each bob of the head matched in their languid, luxurious exploration of him. His cock twitched in your mouth. He wasn't going to last as long as usual. Pent up from the last week or so, perhaps? If you didn't move on, he'd come way too early. You dipped two fingers into the jar of lube and slipped one between his cheeks, letting the tip rest at his entrance.

"Ready for me to keep going?"
"Ready," he breathed, voice rumbling with an involuntary growl. Grinning to yourself, you nuzzled into his thigh and kissed the thick fur in the hopes that he'd feel the contact as well as see it.
"Good boy. Good, brave boy. I'm going to start with just the lube, but the grease is here just in case."

With that, you ran your tongue back along his cock, following the slightly elliptical curve of his shaft on your way to the tip. You enveloped the head in your mouth and, just as you began to take him deeper between your lips, you pushed your fingertip against his entrance. You felt him startle under you; he clenched on your fingertip and his dick bumped into the inside of your cheek. You stilled your finger, letting him get used to the barest hint of penetration. He was okay, right? Your free hand stroked along his thigh in an effort to soothe him. Whether it was you stroking his leg or simply that he had adjusted to your finger, you felt him relax. Still, you took your next move carefully. There was no need to rush. Your fingertip circled around the outside of his entrance, not quite inside him yet, just to get him used to being touched in such a way. The lubricant had left his skin glossy and slick, ready for you to go further. You took another look at his face - still blushing through his patchy fur, wide-eyed and vulnerable, but with no sign of wanting to stop. Realising that you were gauging his reaction, he gave you a thumbs-up. The signal equivalent of 'green'. Go ahead. You crooked your finger and angled it ever so slightly inside him. If he jumped, it was nowhere near as much as he had done the first time your finger made contact with him. What a good boy he was. You might have told him so, were it not for the fact that his cock was still deep in your mouth. The blowjob had slowed as you concentrated more on your manual ministrations, but now that Blaidd was over the initial shock of it, you could resume. You purred around his cock, hoping that he understood the approval behind it. He hissed something between his teeth at the feel of your purr vibrating through his flesh, but you couldn't make out the words.

When you finally slipped your finger inside him, his eyes widened and his breath caught. Thankfully he didn't clench too hard around you. You did not want to snap a finger off up his arse. You moved your finger back and forth, allowing the lubricant to work into him and ease your way in. He was snug, not as tight as a regular human but tighter than you expected from the size of him. It was nothing that thorough preparation couldn't handle. And he was so warm. And that flustered face of his when your finger moved inside of him was adorable. Okay, maybe he was more preoccupied with you blowing him than having you inside him, but he certainly didn't hate it. You worked into him, pressing a little deeper on each careful thrust. The lube was doing its job. Each movement was a smooth and painless glide. Blaidd hardly seemed to notice that you'd soon managed to sink your whole finger inside him. When you withdrew, however, you almost jumped upon hearing his voice out of nowhere, a question slipping out from between his panting breaths.
"Ma'am...? Are you - doing two now...?" His cock was still hilted in your mouth, so your reply was a thumbs-up. You repeated the gesture with a questioning tilt of your head. He frowned a little, one ear pivoting while he tried to figure out what you meant. You waggled your thumb.
"You're asking me if I'm - all right with that?" You gave another thumbs-up, and the confusion in his face lifted. "I am..."

You pulled out and set both lubed fingers against his entrance, holding them there to let him get used to feeling something a little larger. A soft growl rumbled under his breath as you guided both fingers into him. Not a guttural flare of pain or displeasure, but something more like a purr. Perhaps because you were still trying to deep-throat him at the same time. Having one's dick buried deep in a warm, welcoming mouth tended to be a distraction. Your fingers sank smoothly into his warmth as you sought out your next target. There was a bundle of nerves somewhere inside him that many men didn't know existed, yet when touched in just the right way it would send a burst of pleasure through them. It was such a sensitive little spot, however, that you had to be careful. Your questing fingertips finally found his prostrate and you traced a feather-light touch over it. Blaidd jumped, and you spluttered as his cock slammed into your throat. You coughed and gagged and finally managed to spit him out before you choked. Damn it, you should have known better than to try and blow him while touching his prostrate for the first time. It was an accident waiting to happen. Blaidd began to sit up, alarmed, but you shook your head.

"It's okay -" you croaked between coughs. Getting the back of your throat bludgeoned had left your voice hoarse. "Just - give me a - moment -"
He settled back sheepishly, ears a little lowered and cheeks as red as yours felt. Once you'd caught your breath, you ran your free hand over his cock and began to stroke him instead. You weren't going to risk choking again, and at least your mouth had gotten him nice and slick. His shaft throbbed under your touch.
"Are you - all right too? D-did I hurt you?"
"You only startled me, Ma'am... I didn't mean to... to hurt you like that..."
"I'll live. It's - feeling a little better. Do you want me - to try it again, or -?"
"Please, Ma'am."

Oh, that was wonderful. It wasn't so long ago that your lover had been somewhat reserved in matters of intimacy, but he'd blossomed under your care. He'd been so brave, so open-minded in agreeing to try this, and he wasn't going to let a mishap or two scare him off. A thoroughly good boy; you couldn't have wished for better. You kissed the tip of his cock as your fingers returned to the barest touch of his prostrate. And once more, his hips twitched. At least he couldn't cut off your oxygen now, his tip merely bumping against your face. You knew better than to let him fuck your mouth while your fingers were so deep inside him. Your mouth and one hand played along Blaidd's cock while you traced along his prostrate. You curled the lower hand so that the heel of your palm pressed into his perineum. As he thrust into your hand as carefully as he could, that little press of the hand gave him something to grind against, yet another source of pleasure.

He was close. You'd felt it already in the insistent pulse of his shaft, heard it in his panting. But now the base of his cock visibly swelled in the start of a knot. Trembling fingers wound their way through your hair and pulled you closer. You toyed with him a little more until he neared his breaking point. That was enough for his first time. You'd already established that he didn't mind your touch inside him, but too much pressure on his prostrate might hurt him. With one final brush of your fingers, you slipped your fingers free and concentrated your attentions on his cock. You took the head of it between your lips and squeezed his hips in a silent invitation for him to finish in your mouth. The fingers in your hair cupped your head and guided you down as you slid further down him, until your lips brushed against the bulging knot. His cock throbbed against your tongue and, with a rasping growl sounding from above you, you felt him cum into your mouth. His free hand slipped below your jaw and cradled your throat. You blinked. What was he doing? Not pressing on you, for which your poor throat - still aching a bit - was grateful. His touch was light yet wide as he spread his fingers out along your neck. You began to swallow, your larynx bobbing against his hand. His thumb stroked up and down your neck in an approving caress. Now you understood - he wanted to not only watch you swallow, but to feel the movement of your throat. What a strange thing for him to do! Strange, yet almost cute. You might have laughed if your mouth wasn't in danger of flooding. Still, you smiled to yourself as you gulped again and again, his fingers running along your throat in a sort of massage. Once he had finished, he pulled out of your mouth. You stuck your tongue out at him. He tilted his head at that, but chuckled to himself.
"What? I'm proving I swallowed!" you teased.
"I didn't doubt it, Ma'am," he replied under his breath.

You snapped your fingers, bringing the scene to a close. You slumped forward to snuggle into Blaidd's fur, only to find him already getting to his feet.
"Tea, Ma'am?"
Oh yes, the post-coital tea order. One of the duties he'd requested from you. You gave the fur on his hip a quick ruffle.
"Yes please."

You let him up and he set about the preparations. As he set some water to boil and fished around in your bag for some dried maythen, you rinsed your hands and searched your inventory. There was still a little ache in your throat. A bit of honey would do the trick. You peered over the top of the spectral chest to watch Blaidd add the maythen to the tea-kettle. Both your cups lay ready and waiting. Your eyes raked over him from head to toe. There had been rare but frightening occasions with previous subs where their first forays into anal play had led into serious subdrop. You did the responsible thing and tried to help them through the low however you could, but the sense of emasculation might floor them for hours or even days. You'd thus been especially careful with how you discussed the topic with Blaidd, emphasising his choice and comfort. The way in which the conversation had come about - Blaidd stumbling across that strap-on - had not been ideal, but he'd taken to the idea far better than you'd expected. And now you saw no sign of upset or distress in him. His head did not droop, and neither did his ears. His face was neutral, but not artificially so. His eyes had a contented glimmer to them, and his tail swung in that lazy, post-coital wag you'd seen so often. He looked no different than he did after any of your scenes.

You settled beside him as he poured out two cups of gold-tinted tea.
"Was that how you thought it'd be?" you asked, taking a quick sip before stirring a little honey into it. Blaidd had a quirk of not starting his tea until you'd had some of yours.
"I enjoyed it once I got used to it."
"You did even better than I expected. You did me proud, big guy."
He dipped his head and stared into his tea to hide his smile.
"Thank you, Ma'am. I..." His ears flattened and his tail flicked in an agitated curl. Before you had chance to ask what he was thinking, he took a big gulp of tea, then a deep breath. "I'm happy for you to, ah, peg me if you wish to."
You grinned so broadly that your cheeks hurt.
"I must admit, you've piqued my curiosity. But I would only do it with you. And only once," he added sternly.

That was a common caveat of your previous subs, and one that they often went back on. Men tended to be funny about it the first time they let a woman fuck them up the arse. Only once, they'd say. And then when they tried it, once sometimes became twice. Then twice might become thrice, and thrice might wind up becoming once a week or so. Of course, some really did mean only once, and some only twice, and you respected their wishes. So often, though, your subs found they enjoyed it more than they expected. Whatever Blaidd decided on, whether it was once, more than once or none at all, that was his decision to make. You drank your tea and sighed at the honey-sweetness soothing your throat.

"Once is fine. You can always change your mind."
"I know. Does your throat still hurt?" His gaze dropped to your neck. "You sound less hoarse now, and yet..."
"It's pretty much back to normal."
"I can't apologise enough. I did not mean to buck like that."
"It's fine. It was a reflex. At least I know for next time. Don't put my finger up your arse while I'm sucking you off, or you stab me in the throat."
He let out a soft bark of laughter, although there was still a furrow to his brow. "Not an intentional stab, but a stab all the same."
"Really, I'll be okay."
"Allow me to make up for it."

The half-wolf moved behind you, setting out his legs to either side of you and guiding you back to lean against his stomach. You let yourself melt into his thick, warm fur and took another sip of tea. Bliss. What could be better than a lovely half-wolf against your back? You felt snuffling in your hair, a cold nose and warm breath tickling your scalp. Tilting your head back, your mouth met his in a kiss. Tomorrow he would be safe. You and he would storm Raya Lucaria together, no matter how many Cuckoo Knights stood in your way, and you would cut his ties with the Two Fingers forever.

Chapter Text

The next day saw you navigate the southern wetlands of Liurnia Lake and cross what Blaidd referred to as 'the old gate town'. You'd call it something very different. An ex-town, perhaps. Did it really count as a town if it was little more than heaps of pale brick and slate roofs littering the lake, stained by years of rising waterline? You and Blaidd treated the rooftops as stepping-stones, for that was all the old gate town had left to offer. Ivy crawled over the buildings' shells and moss clung to their walls, in the apparent hope that together their weight would finally submerge the town and end its not-quite-existence. The wildlife knew better than to linger here. You'd seen a couple of tiny fish dart away as you splashed through the shallows, and the outlines of a few glum ducks bobbing in the distance, and that was all. Certainly not enough to sustain the knight's camp that had met you on the outskirts of Raya Lucaria, and whose blood now stained the cobblestones.

Blaidd ran the tip of his greatsword along a fallen knight's torso, tracing out the emblem on the surcoat. A chunk of glintstone between two cuckoos, gold embroidery against red and blue.
"This is what we must watch for. The mark of the Cuckoo Knight. Anyone who wears this surcoat is an enemy of Raya Lucaria. Let's avoid them where we can, but if we are forced to fight, then don't hesitate to kill."
"They're still inside the academy after all this time?" you asked. The way Blaidd had described the rebellion of the Raya Lucaria Knights, their sole aim had been to oust the Carian royal family. Rennala had been locked up and no other member of the royal family had set foot in the academy since. So if their revolt was successful, why did the Cuckoos still occupy Raya Lucaria? Was it simply to keep it out of Carian hands, or did they have bigger plans?
"If they're stationed this close, they must be inside as well," Blaidd answered. "Keep your wits about you and stay close. My siblings and I played here, and made dens of the secret passageways - I'll show you how to move unseen through the academy."
"We've got two choices: either we can sneak in now, or we can give it a few hours and wait until dark. What do you think?"
The journey to Raya Lucaria had taken all morning and a chunk of the afternoon, but it was far from evening. You could ransack the Cuckoo Knights' camp and claim it as your own. Check over your weapons, plan your route through the academy, even take a few hours' nap so you were fully refreshed by the time night fell. Blaidd shook his head, however.
"The academy is no less busy after dark. It may even become busier. Astrology forms part of a glintstone sorcerer's studies, and many study the skies by night. We may as well strike now before we're discovered."

The two of you continued through the sunken wasteland, this manmade monument to decay. Some vestige of beauty still remained under the carpet of mosses. The elegantly carved masonry was not yet fully eroded by the water. This gate town would have echoed Raya Lucaria's splendour once, granting a taste of what lay beyond those tall walls, but it was only a ghost of itself and the academy now. In a matter of decades - perhaps even in your lifetime - the water would finally close over the rooftops and engulf it forever. For now, it remained a ghost, its stone as cold and dead as those who had once called it home.

You'd seen Raya Lucaria many times as you crossed Liurnia. There was no way you couldn't. The cluster of buildings and cliffs, spiralling around itself like a seashell, was visible from almost anywhere in the region. Even with its feet sinking into the lake, it still stretched into the sky as if it meant to join its glintstones and take its place among the stars. You'd known it was big. Now you stood face to face with it, smooth pale walls towering over you without end, you realised just how futile your earlier quips about climbing it were.
A sturdy portcullis separated you from Raya Lucaria, and a barrier of glintstone magic separated you from the portcullis. Strands of otherworldly blue weaved together to span the portcullis. Over the top you saw the academy's emblem, a more elaborate arrangement of the cuckoos-and-glintstone motifs you'd seen on the knights' surcoats. Behind the crystalline glow and the iron bars sprawled the silhouettes of huge edifices, spires that threatened to puncture the clouds. You had to find Rennala somewhere in there? You'd seen whole towns that were smaller than this! But you wouldn't be daunted that easily. Blaidd knew this place like the back of his hand, and nobody survived in the wilds as long as you had without knowing a thing or two about stealth. You'd have to get used to letting your love take the lead, of course. Normally you took charge on expeditions like this, but you'd be foolish to do so when he knew Raya Lucaria and you didn't.

Blaidd retrieved the key and pressed its blade into one of the glowing strands before you. Ripples coursed through the barrier, shimmering as the magic began to dissolve. It didn't vanish entirely, but simply thinned into the barest outlines of blue in the air. The spot that the key had touched continued to undulate in mid-air. You'd expected the portcullis to raise when the barrier was broken, yet it didn't budge an inch. That rippling circle hanging in the air had to be some kind of portal magic. Blaidd threaded his fingers through yours, and together you stepped through the portal.

You gazed around the courtyard that materialised beneath your feet, but found no sign of anyone other than Blaidd. It was quiet enough for you to hear the breeze rustle the grass growing between the cracks of the stone slabs. Blaidd's ears and tail were rigid as he lifted his head, frowning in thought as he scanned the area. You thought you heard him sniff the air. Searching for any hidden Cuckoo Knights, any scent that should not be there? The courtyard fronted a building with an arched entrance, carved with pilasters - just decorative enough to inform you that this was no ordinary place, but stopping far short of tasteless frippery. The grey walls were tinged gold by the sun, low in the sky but not ready to set.

"Is the coast clear?" you whispered.
"I expected Cuckoo Knights guarding the entrances, but I sense nothing. Let's proceed with caution - they might be lying in wait ahead."

You followed Blaidd through the archway and into a single room. You'd seen enough lifting platforms by now to recognise the square that took up most of the floor, even without the chain at each corner attached to some kind of mechanism above you. Blaidd struck a switch and the chains clanked as they pulled taut and hoisted the platform through the ceiling. It was kind of weird, you thought as you passed a series of leaded windows. The wells that led to Siofra River had no need for chains or supports of any kind. They rose and fell using magic. Yet in an academy devoted to sorcery, they chose a mechanical elevator? You lost that train of thought at the sight that met you when the platform stopped. A path curved before you - more of a bridge, really - towards a flight of stairs and one of the biggest, most indifferently imposing buildings you'd ever seen. You pressed yourself against the wall of the elevator's chamber and poked your head through the doorway, scrutinising the path with wide eyes. It was cluttered with strange shapes, any of which might conceal a Cuckoo Knight. You soon figured out that the little blobs along the stone balustrades were just gargoyles, and the bigger shapes along the bridge were crates and... cages? Yes, cages. Bizarre. But no Cuckoo Knights. Not even any students. You and Blaidd crept on. You couldn't resist looking over the balustrade as you crossed the bridge and found the supports vanishing into the mist far below. Just how high up must you be? It was hard not to gape at the sheer scale of Raya Lucaria. You were supposed to be creeping through here unnoticed, and yet part of you would have simply stood and stared like some kind of tourist.

A flicker of movement at the top of the stairs. You froze mid-step, a half-crouch that tried to melt you into your surroundings. Two figures flanked the door into the academy. They were clad in red and blue, and you saw something grey covering their heads. Cuckoo Knights! You reached for your greatsword. Hang on, why hadn't Blaidd drawn his own weapon? Did he see no threat? You looked closer and realised your mistake. They may be dressed in the academy's deep blue and red, but no armour shone from under those robes. And that thing they wore looked more like a stone statue's head than any helmet you'd ever seen before.

"Psst!" you hissed. "They're not Cuckoo Knights, are they?"
"They're glintstone sorcerers. Students of Raya Lucaria." The smile in his voice was audible. "They must have held their own against the Cuckoos. The Cuckoos would surely have secured the entrance otherwise. Looks like we shan't have to break in, after all. Wait here."
He strode ahead, wholly at ease, his tail carried high and swishing with each step. The glintstone sorcerers fixed their attention on him, watching the half-wolf's approach.
"Greetings!" he called. "The traitors have lost their hold here, eh? Would you know where we can find Queen Rennala?"
For all the joviality of his greeting, the scholars stared at him as if he was speaking another language. Their posture was stiff and tense, their hands tight on their wooden staffs. You didn't like this at all. Your hand drifted back towards your sword. Blaidd's brow furrowed and he cocked his head to one side.
"My mother?" he tried again. "Queen Rennala? The last I heard of her, the Cuckoos held her prisoner within these walls. Is she still -"

A pair of glintstone bolts streaked through the air. Blaidd recoiled and dodged. The bolts missed him, their trailing tails of blue light fizzling out harmlessly. You drew your sword and sprang into action. Hurtling up the stairs, you felled the nearest sorcerer with a wide slash across their torso before they had chance to summon a second bolt. The tip of your blade met the second sorcerer's chest, and you had just begun to pierce it when Blaidd swung his own sword down - not the blade, but the hilt. It clunked against the stone helm and the sorcerer fell to the ground.

Blaidd crouched beside you and inspected the bodies.
"This one is unconscious. You drew some blood, but their robes will stem it. Is the other dead?"
You had no idea why he'd ask such a thing, but you checked. The first sorcerer lay in a pool of blood. You took hold of one wrist and found a faint pulse just as one foot twitched.
"Alive." You pulled out your miséricorde, but Blaidd blocked it with an outstretched hand.
"Quickly, heal them before they bleed out."
You frowned. "Heal them? Blaidd, they tried to hurt you!"
"They're still one of Mother's students and fall under her protection," he reminded you.
"They attacked you for no reason!"
"I didn't say not to incapacitate them. Just don't kill them needlessly."

Stowing away the dagger, you focused on the bleeding sorcerer and cast the incantation. Golden light embraced their form. The blood soaking their robes dried and faded, and through the ripped fabric you saw the torn edges of flesh pulling themselves back together. The sorcerer spasmed. A rattling gasp echoed from under their helm. They tried to sit up with a groan, and you smashed your sword's hilt into the helm. Their head lolled back. Knocked out, like their companion. At least they were still alive, but now you were saddled with two unconscious scholars.

"We need to get rid of these," you decided out loud. "Put them somewhere nobody can find them, and where they can't raise the alarm."
"The Church of the Cuckoo has a vestiary." Blaidd nodded to the doors the sorcerers had been guarding.
Each of you hoisted up a victim. Blaidd carried his across his shoulder, while you had to settle for slinging yours over your back like a cape. Their arms draped over your shoulders and their feet dragged across the ground. The half-wolf pushed open the doors to a dingy chapel, its windows obscured by the flock of ornate cages hanging from the ceiling. Before the altar stood another stone-helmed sorcerer. It was too much to hope that they hadn't seen the massive doors open right in front of them. Not when they'd already raised their staff.

"Get to the vestiary!" you barked at Blaidd.
You let your sorcerer drop and tackled the newcomer to the ground. Their helm hit a corner of the altar on the way down. You paused, your dagger inches from their face, but the sorcerer didn't move. Had they knocked themselves out when they fell? You lifted the stone head away - real stone, heavier than the helms you were used to - and a curtain of pale hair fell over their face. A patch at their temple was sticky with blood. Pressing your fingers to their throat, you found a pulse, and no broken bones in either their neck or back. Truly a lucky accident for everyone involved. You bound up their wounded head and dragged them across the church, towards the tail you'd just seen disappear around the corner. Blaidd had stopped in a dead-end corridor, eyeing a stack of even more cages against the wall. His fingertip skimmed the edge of a particularly tall cage, brushing off a sprinkle of dust and snapping a cobweb.
"Blaidd?"
"Ah! Here." He pressed some decorative whorl or other, and it clicked into the cage. The wall dissolved before you to reveal a small room, cloaks and robes hanging over wooden benches. Illusory walls with disguised switches? Blaidd and his siblings must have loved exploring Raya Lucaria. You knew if you'd been a kid here then you'd have probably been obsessed with finding every last secret. This vestiary might have been one of the Carian children's hideouts. The half-wolf had scooped up the sorcerer you'd abandoned in the doorway, and so between you you were able to tuck all three victims into a back corner.

"Back to the original plan, Ma'am," Blaidd muttered as he straightened up and stared at the heap of students. "We cannot move openly, even without the Cuckoo Knights."
Bloody nuisance. Wait, maybe there was a way. What if you disguised yourself? You grabbed a helm from the nearest sorcerer. This one was stone too, sculpted in the likeness of a bearded man. Blue-green glintstones had been set into the eye sockets, and a silvery crown perched among the curls. You jammed it onto your own head and gazed at Blaidd triumphantly.
"If I pretend I'm a sorcerer, then we can -"
It was not one half-wolf who looked back at you, but half a dozen of them. You blinked. The glintstone chips in the eyes, rough and multifaceted, split your vision into pieces. Not to mention that everything had turned turquoise. You pulled the stone head off and regarded it with disgust.
"Okay, forget that. I can't see shit."
"Those who are attuned to magic can see through a glintstone crown more clearly," Blaidd - just the one, now that stupid crown was off your head - explained. He sounded like he was trying not to laugh. You had to smile at that lilt in his voice, even if your idea was now scuppered. There would be no easy way through Raya Lucaria after all. You stuffed the glintstone crown into your knapsack. Just because it was useless now didn't mean it might not come in handy later. The same went for the glintstone-tipped staff.
"Are you robbing them...? I shouldn't be surprised anymore."
"You're the one who lets me loot corpses all the time. And it's like you said, they might be useful if I ever learn about magic. The academy should give them replacements anyway." You closed your knapsack over your new gear. "Which way now?"
"Follow me. There's a secret tunnel that runs past the church. It will allow us to bypass the graveyard."
"Did you say 'graveyard'?"

Once you'd left the vestiary, Blaidd clicked the switch and restored the wall obscuring it, then led you through the back of the chapel. The craggy earth sloped back and forth into a steeply winding path. The half-wolf ignored it entirely. Instead he doubled back, heading into a funny little nook in the cliff. You looked down the slope anyway. The path was scattered with dark shapes breaking through the fog - twisting trees, lopsided gravestones.
"Why is there a graveyard?" you asked, but Blaidd motioned for you to keep your voice down. He pointed to a patch of bare earth among the dense shrubs. Just a random spot where the grass had worn out, one might have thought, but there was an uncanny flatness to it, like a sheet that had been painted to look like soil. More illusory magic?
"It will vanish if you hit it," Blaidd told you.
You struck the ground with your sword and the projection faded, just like the vestiary wall. What remained was a large rectangle carved out of the earth, the nearest side lined with stone steps. You headed down them, passing under a stone arch and into a tunnel.

Every step echoed around the walls. The air was cold and clammy, carrying that unmistakeable damp taste of the underground. For some reason, cages dangled from the ceiling like hornet's nests. You had no idea why a school needed all these cages, especially when they were empty. The tunnel was so dark that you barely saw a yard in front of you. Boxy shadows lurched out of the gloom almost before you could react, and more than once a dull clunk resounded through your helmet as your head met a cage.
"So why is there a graveyard?" you tried again.
"It's not important." It was too dim to make out his expression. He was little more than a shadow to your side.
"Who's buried there? Is it students and tutors, or...?"
"Some were students, I believe. I know little of the rest. What does it matter?"
"What kind of school needs a graveyard?" you countered. "It's weird. This whole place is weird. Why are the students out to get you?"
"I don't know that either." He spoke firmly, but not unkindly. He didn't want to talk, but he didn't want to chastise you either.
Had Blaidd done something to make the academy hate him, something that he didn't want to talk about? He'd implied that he hadn't been to Raya Lucaria in ages. If he'd committed some crime, then they held a very long grudge. Was it simply that he was Rennala's stepson? But then it hadn't been the sorcerers who overthrew Rennala, but the Cuckoo Knights. And the Cuckoo Knights themselves were nowhere to be found. Without them, keeping up the persecution of the Carian royal family made no sense. What if it had nothing to do with Rennala at all? Perhaps they hated Blaidd not for his stepmother, but his stepsister. Could Ranni be to blame somehow?

You bumped into another shadowy shape, but it wasn't bars of metal that met you. Something little and solid hung from the ceiling, something that swung back and jabbed a pointy end in your face. You winced and grabbed the thing, holding on tight no matter how it thrashed around in your grasp.
"What's going on over there?" Blaidd asked, just as you recognised the shape in your hand and let go.
"Someone's hanging from the ceiling!" The foot you'd been holding aimed another kick at you, but you'd stepped away and the leg just flailed in mid-air.
"It'll be a Marionette. Or an Avionette, perhaps."
"A what?"
"Marionette Soldiers. Sorcerers craft them as warriors and servants." As you walked on, the leg's owner made no attempt to follow you or continue the assault. Whatever it was, it was content to just dangle among the cages. "These ones don't see us as a threat, so just ignore them."
You were far more cautious of the shadows after that. Not that Blaidd gave you any explanation why the sorcerers were attacking him when the soldiers they created weren't.

Soon you came to another set of rough steps leading right up to the tunnel's ceiling. You knew what to do here. You struck it and dispelled the illusion, and for a moment you were dazzled by yellow. You squinted, shielding your eyes until they got used to the light. The room you found yourself in was lined with torches burning so vividly that it felt like an attack on your eyes. Raya Lucaria was a place of greys and blues, shades that melted into and matched the fog bathing the region. More than that, you'd just emerged from an unlit cellar.
A rhythmic clank of machinery, a mechanical heartbeat, came from somewhere nearby. Ivy had found its way into the room, coiling through the decorative grill of the gates and wrapping itself around the empty window frames. You crossed the room and looked outside. This wasn't a room at all, but more of a porch or a portico. The gates led out to a ravine so deep that you saw neither top nor bottom of it from here. A walkway connected your cliff with the next, but to one side was the source of all the noise. An enormous wheel turned, connected to a series of cogs, hauling thick ropes of metal. As you watched, a platform rose from the depths of the ravine, hoisted along the ropes, and disappeared somewhere above you, but not before another platform followed it up. Some kind of paternoster, platforms running in an endless circuit.

Your gaze flicked between the walkway and the paternoster. "Which way now?"
"We ride the platform up. When you see a cliff with a schoolhouse, jump to it."
"Got it."

You headed onto the walkway and watched for the next platform. Once more, you were greeted by the sight of fog far below you. Don't think about how high up it is, or how one wrong move would have you fall to your death. You forced yourself to focus on the square speck growing darker and clearer as it surfaced through the mist. As soon as it drew level, you and Blaidd stepped onto it and turned to watch the other side of the ravine. Part of the rock face jutted out above you, and Blaidd shifted, bending his knees in preparation. You couldn't see what the cliff held from here but, going by the half-wolf's movements, this had to be the right one. The platform continued its steady journey above the cliff. You caught sight of long grass, a tree's spindly silhouette, a building with an entrance framed by torches that blazed through the fog like beacons. Together you leapt to the cliff.

This part of the academy was shabbier than those you'd previously seen. Thus far, Raya Lucaria had been stern and imposing, a place too grand and lofty for someone like you. This place - a schoolhouse, apparently - had something of the clutter of Ranni's Rise. Glintstone was piled haphazardly into buckets and baskets on the floor, desks buried under apparatus, books stacked in towers that a single nudge might topple, and the air was thick with glittering dust. Noises from the next room. Footsteps, getting closer. You pressed yourself to the wall and waited. The shuffling feet paused beside the doorway. You held your breath. You and Blaidd had been silent - they couldn't possibly have heard you, could they? After a few moments, you heard sliding. No idea what, but it sounded like small items being moved about. The person sighed, and the footsteps moved away. You let your eyes close in relief, then chanced a look into the next room. A corridor almost as untidy as the room you were in, with someone walking in the opposite direction.

"What do you see?" Blaidd breathed from beside you.
"Probably a student," you whispered back. "About three yards away. Pale blue robe, and I think a glintstone crown. Got their back to us." They held their head low, and they stared at every heap of books they passed. "Distracted. I think they're looking for something." "Get ready to cover me, Ma'am."
"What?" You looked back to him, incredulous.
"I'm going to talk to them."
"Last time you did that, they tried to kill you!"
"Let me try with this one."

It sounded doomed to failure, but you had to trust him. You'd knocked out three sorcerers between you by now; you weren't afraid of a fourth. So you kept your miséricorde to hand while Blaidd poked his head out from the shadows.

"Excuse me. ...Excuse me."
The sorcerer turned and watched Blaidd for a moment that felt far too long. Even though you knew a lone sorcerer was no match for the two of you, your heart was in your throat. They took a step closer.
"Lord Blaidd," the student replied. Their voice was hushed and a little hoarse. The sound of someone who'd spent so long whispering that they hardly knew how to stop. You didn't even know whether it was male or female. "It's not safe for you here!"

They ushered you back into the previous room, glancing between you and the half-wolf.

"What a relief to find a friendly face." You couldn't resist the question that sprang to mind at Blaidd's words.
"How'd you know this one was friendly?"
"No doubt Lord Blaidd recognised I was of the Lazuli Conspectus," replied the sorcerer. "Mizar is my name."
"The Lazuli are the only ones who wear pale blue robes," Blaidd explained. "Mother founded the Lazuli Conspectus. If any sorcerer remained loyal to her, it would be one of her own students."
"What's going on with the others?" you asked. "There's no sign of the Cuckoo Knights, so why's Blaidd getting attacked?"
"You know of the Cuckoo Knights, then. We finally cast them from the academy, only for another schism to take the place of the first. Many disciplines are studied in these halls, and each has their own perspective on the nature of sorcery. The Lazuli Conspectus furthers Queen Rennala's studies of the moon. In line with the magic of the Carians, we propose that the moon plays as great a role, if not greater, on matters thaumaturgical as the stars. This -"
Mizar paused for effect, far too long in your opinion. You tried your best not to sigh. Just your luck that the only person not trying to kill you happened to love drama almost as much as the sound of their own voice.
"- is a controversial view. The older and more established disciplines reject our theories. And with a Carian no longer controlling the academy, the other conspectuses see an opportunity to uproot us and establish their theories' dominance." Mizar's voice dropped to a further whisper, if that was possible. "I've even heard rumours that some would resume the study of the primeval current. Zealots of the Graven Witch, I fear."
"So what's that got to do with Blaidd? They think he's here to take Raya Lucaria back?"
"In a word, yes. The conspectuses are not united, mind you. Infighting has sundered most. Most Lazuli sorcerers are loyal, but a handful resent Rennala forbidding the study of primeval sorceries. A few of the Karolos and Olivinus sorcerers also remain loyal, yet the majority reject Carian rule. The Twinsage Conspectus is split down the middle. The battlemages of Haima remain neutral. They've quashed the worst of the fighting, although it is but barely contained."

There was a thump from a distant room, and Mizar nearly jumped out of their skin. It wasn't hard to imagine that they wore the same haunted expression as their stone crown, with its jaw hanging slack and its wide eyes stoppered with glintstone.
"It's okay, nobody knows we're here," you tried to reassure them.
"But if someone sees me talking to you...!" they whimpered. "Oh, don't come this way, don't come this way!"
They remained frozen in place, locked in their little world of fear, until the footsteps trailed away and a door closed. They sighed so deeply that it must have emptied their lungs. You'd think they'd just escaped being executed.
"Now, where were we?" they asked.
"What's become of Mother? Is she safe?"
"She remains a prisoner of the Grand Library. It was the Cuckoo Knights who first placed her there. When the conspectuses came to blows, Sir Moongrum assigned himself her guardian and keeps the rest of us at bay. He thinks some of us might harm her. A damned inconvenience, to tell the truth. But he'll listen to you, Lord Blaidd. Tell him to take her somewhere else."
"Why? She's safe up there, surely?" you cut in.
"Oh, there's no safer place in Raya Lucaria, but the Library is where most of the books are! It's hampering our studies. Our own observations are all well and good, but sometimes we wish to consult the wisdom of our forebears."
"You're okay with endangering Queen Rennala because you want to read some books?"
"I never said that. But you'd think Sir Moongrum would listen to reason and grant the Lazuli Conspectus access, at least."
As Mizar continued to grumble about the injustice of it all, you nudged Blaidd and whispered, "Where's the Grand Library?"
"Right at the top of Raya Lucaria. We pass through here and continue through the Debate Parlour."
That was good. You were on the right track - you didn't have to backtrack through this enormous place. But Mizar shook their head.
"You mustn't pass through here! This schoolhouse is full of students from other Conspectuses. Too much to hope that they're all Carian sympathisers."
"Can you distract them or something?" you asked, and Mizar bristled at the suggestion.
"Heavens, no! Too many of them milling about. Without the Library we've been reduced to rats, scuttling about for scraps of knowledge in whatever books we can find. Blasted Moongrum!"
"Then what are we meant to do, you little-"
"You have our gratitude for all your help." The half-wolf offered a brief bow, and Mizar bowed so deeply that they folded at the waist.
"Ah! That's one I've been looking for!" They plucked a tome from a low shelf behind Blaidd. They must have spotted it as they bowed. "Forgive me, Lord Blaidd, I must return to my studies."
You watched them scuttle from the building, book stuffed in the front of their robes like it was contraband.
"So we know where Rennala is, but not how to get there," you grumbled. "Wish that windbag could have gone ahead and distracted them."
You took your previous position in the doorway and scanned the corridor once more. Still nobody in sight, but Mizar had said there were plenty deeper in the schoolhouse. You'd heard one of them a few minutes ago. Should you risk scouting ahead and finding a way to distract them, or would Blaidd know another way to the Grand Library?

A solemn chime rang out from high above, so loud and so deep that you felt the vibration of it through the wall. Feet pattered in distant rooms. You backed out of the doorway and pulled Blaidd with you just as sorcerers poured into the corridor. The pair of you ducked behind a desk in the corner. You found each other's hands and clung on. The sorcerers filed through the room. Thank goodness it was so gloomy in here. As long as you stayed still, they shouldn't notice you, but the pounding of your heart seemed even louder than the people walking past you. You hardly dared breathe, and you prayed that the dust wouldn't make either of you sneeze. The students murmured between themselves as they left the schoolhouse. You couldn't make out the words, but there was a note of confusion to them. The bell must be a call to assembly or something. Had that Lazuli sorcerer rung it on their way out? Either way, it gave you a chance. Once the last of them was gone, you squeezed the half-wolf's hand and nodded towards the door.

You crept through, as quickly yet quietly as you could. The corridor was deserted. Heaps of discarded books on the floor, desks and chairs in disarray, the usual academy mess lining the walls, but not a soul to be seen. You followed the corridor round to a flight of stairs and stopped at a junction.
"This way." Blaidd led you to the right, up even more stairs that for some reason hosted a multitude of candles. Most of them weren't lit, thankfully - that would be an accident waiting to happen - but you'd bet the carpet running down the centre was crusty with wax. Blaidd turned on his heel and rounded the corner, ready to run up the next flight of stairs, and his hand froze on the balustrade. A sorcerer stood at the top. A straggler who hadn't yet left the schoolhouse, and whose staff glowed ominously.
Your surprise lasted for only a moment. With a swipe of their staff, they launched a ball of glintstone energy down the stairs. You and Blaidd ducked the miniature comet, which hit the wall and burnt out in a burst of blue. Together you tackled the sorcerer, Blaidd holding them down as you knocked them out. He hoisted the body across his shoulders and let his gaze wander back down the stairs.
"I'll hide them. There's a classroom down there behind an illusory bookcase."
"Sounds perfect."

The half-wolf carried the sorcerer downstairs. Just as the sound of his boots dwindled away, something thudded behind you. You flinched. Whatever made the noise, it was heavy. A piece of furniture falling over, you'd guess. But why had it fallen? Then you heard feet, soft steps, yet with some weight to them. It sounded like something big was trying to stay quiet. Perhaps some students were laying an ambush. Blaidd was still hiding the sorcerer somewhere on the floor below. You may as well check what was going on, and take out any threat you found before your lover returned. And so, drawing your miséricorde, you left the stairs - and Blaidd - behind you and ventured deeper into the schoolhouse.

Chapter Text

You tiptoed deeper into the schoolhouse, hand wrapped tight around your miséricorde. There was only one place the noise could have come from. The landing led into a single, short corridor that ended in a massive chamber of some sort, wide and high-ceilinged. Benches and lecterns were arranged in rows to either side. Blaidd mentioned a Debate Parlour, didn't he? A room like this would fit the bill, even if it clearly wasn't being used any more. The blobby remains of candles had their wicks caked with dust. There was something near your feet, a greying jumble of shapes on the ground. Your breath caught. Those were human remains, old and grimy enough to blend in with the stone floor. The bones had been picked clean and cast aside. The skull was scored with teeth marks, and to your horror you realised that you weren't even looking at a full skeleton - the larger bones, the arms and legs, were missing. Eaten by whatever chewed the head? A few feet away were bloodstains that had faded to brown. And, freshly trodden into the dust, tracks. Wolf tracks. Wolf tracks the size of a bear's paws. Wolf tracks leading to the creature in the centre of the room. Its shaggy back and tail - all you could see of it - gleamed orange-red.

This was not something you wanted to face alone. You backed into the doorway, but the creature's ear flicked towards you. Rising to its feet, it lowered its head to bare fangs the size of your dagger. Fuck. You switched to your greatsword, the only weapon that stood a chance against such a foe. The wolf swung its head to one side as if reaching over its shoulder, and - and drew a blade from thin air? Glittering embers drifted from a sword that seemed to materialise from a blaze of fire itself. The wolf's jaws closed on its hilt. How was that possible? How was that even fair?

The wolf charged at you, paws thundering against the stone floor, and tossed its head. The glowing blade swung in a wide arc. You threw yourself to the ground and felt its aura - a heat that reminded you of the sun at the height of summer - skim over you. The wolf leapt into the air with a graceful flip, sword held high. You rolled out of the way as it landed. A sweep of its sword cleaved the air where you'd been a couple of seconds ago and smashed a bench like it was made of glass. You took advantage of the shower of splintered wood to push yourself to your feet before the wolf could try and bite, and drove your greatsword into its side. It snarled and snapped its jaws at you. You sprang away then lunged for another stab, but it too jumped back. Something shone in its mouth, a cascade of burning blue sparks. A patch of blue hovered in its wake as the wolf circled you. A swirling vortex. Magic. Your suspicions were confirmed when the vortex spat a glintblade at you. You leapt out of the way and the blue streak passed you by. So not only did this wolf have a magical sword, it somehow knew the academy's glintstone sorcery. That thing had far too many talents! But if it focused so much on magic attacks and launching itself at you from a distance, did that mean that it'd be weaker up close? It may be a magical wolf but it was still a wolf. You had driven off regular wolves for self-defence before. This would just be a more advanced version of that.

It hurtled towards you. No giant sword in its maw this time, only glistening fangs that framed the cavern of its open mouth. You dodged to the side. The wolf missed you, teeth clicking together as its jaws closed on thin air, only for it to summon its blade and strike you in the side of the head. You swore. Your helmet took the brunt of the attack, but you felt the buckled metal jab into your head, and smelled the blood trickling down your cheek. You ducked behind its leg and hilted your sword behind its ribcage. Blood oozed from the wound, coating your blade in dark gore. Okay, you needed a new plan. Your opponent fought with a giant sword, magical projectiles, and teeth. Where was the only spot that none of those attacks would hit you? Right behind its head. It couldn't turn its head far enough to bite, and any sorcery or swing of its sword risked hitting itself. You had to climb it. You seized a handful of the thick red fur and pulled, preparing to hoist yourself up the wolf's side, when -

"Ma'am?"
Blaidd stood in the doorway, wide eyes fixed on the scene before him. Fear flooded you. Just when you were about to get the upper hand, Blaidd had stumbled into the battle. If you didn't end this quickly, or he didn't react in time, then he was in danger.
"Blaidd! Get back, I think I know how to -"
But it was too late. The wolf's ears had pricked at Blaidd's voice. You clattered to the floor as it shook you off and sprang into the air. In a single bound it crossed the room and knocked Blaidd flat. Sword high and ready to strike, you charged at the red wolf. It parted its jaws and enclosed Blaidd's head between its fangs. His hands fumbled in the fur along its jawbone.
"Leave him alone!" you yelled. It glanced at you from the corner of its one visible eye, sharp and bright, as its tail... wagged? The wolf gave you only a moment's attention before it returned to the trapped Blaidd and dragged its lolling tongue over him. The red wolf was licking him.
"I know, boy, I know," Blaidd spluttered between licks. "I'm happy to see you too."
Your sword arm fell limp. "Is this a pet wolf...?"
"He is - was - my father's hound. And he's a good boy... yes he is, yes he is, bachgen da -" Blaidd spoke this last part to the giant wolf, ruffling the thick red fur with both hands.
"Shit, I didn't know. I stabbed him a couple of times."
You put your bloodied greatsword away and prepared the healing incantation, but as you drew closer the giant wolf set his head between you and Blaidd with a growl.
"Stand down, Madramór. She's a friend." The red wolf - Madramór - gave Blaidd a dubious look. "Put out your hand and let him sniff you. Once he knows you're a friend, he'll let you heal him."
You held out your hand to the creature you'd been battling only moments ago. Madramór sniffed you cautiously, flinched away, then gave you a few more snuffles. Warm breath blasted your hand. You could have easily stuffed your whole hand up one nostril. A low rumble sounded in his throat. Deep as it was, it wasn't a growl.
"Right, uh, Madramór, I'm going to heal us both," you told him. "It shouldn't hurt. It'll be over in a few moments."

You cast the incantation, enclosing yourself and the wolf in the field of healing magic. The blood dried in his fur and crumbled into a patch of red dust below him as golden threads of magic pulled the wounds in his chest closed. Your own face tickled with the drying of your blood and the joining of your skin. Madramór's tail gave a limp whisk of gratitude, knocking over a pile of books. Blaidd pulled himself free from Madramór and returned to your side. His armour glistened with saliva. Even his fur was matted with it. You couldn't help chuckling at the sight.

"How much farther's the Grand Library?" you asked.
"Not far. We stand in the Debate Parlour. There is a staircase beyond the courtyard outside, leading to a platform that will raise us to the Library doors."
"Time for a quick break, then? My sword needs cleaning and you're covered in wolf slobber. I wouldn't mind a bite of supper either."
"And what if the sorcerers try to return?"
You shrugged. "Set Madramór on them."
"Your idea of subterfuge is lacking, Ma'am," he replied, but laughter rippled through his voice as he sat next to you, and together you cleaned yourselves up. He polished his armour until it shone, but gave his face only the briefest splash of water before combing through it with his claws. That was Blaidd for you - never that concerned about himself. While you wiped the gore from your blade, the half-wolf fished out a chunk of dried meat from a bundle in his knapsack. Madramór nosed Blaidd's arm out of the way and practically inhaled the jerky. You found some fruit leather from your own bag and tossed a handful across the Debate Parlour. The giant wolf bounded off, kicking up a cloud of dust and scattering books in his eagerness. You shared a few more slabs of dried fruit and jerky between you while Madramór hunted down all the morsels you'd thrown.

"How long's he been in the family, then?" you asked, mopping the last of the blood from your greatsword.
"Father's had him since before I was born."
"Was that ever weird? I mean, your dad had a giant wolf for a pet and a giant wolf for a son. Did everyone just accept that?"
"My brothers gave me a bit of ribbing on occasion, saying that I belonged to Madramór and that I should lick his face, but nothing more than that. I was always the closest of us to Madramór - even more than Radahn, despite his way with animals. He'd try to share his hunts with me."
"That's adorable. Maybe he thought you were a cub."
"Perhaps so."
"How come he knows magic?"
"He's a guard wolf. The magic comes in useful. Once we discovered he could learn sorcery, Mother was especially fond of teaching him." He took a quick swig of water and stood. "I'm ready to go when you are, Ma'am."
The motion caught Madramór's attention. He padded over and nuzzled against Blaidd, tail wagging hopefully.
"I know, I know, but we're looking for Mother." Madramór whined and nosed at him more insistently. "Eisht, you big babi-lol, I love you but we have to go to the Library."
Madramór crossed the room and crouched before the nook in the far wall. He wriggled his shoulders as he scooted forward and back on his stomach. He looked like he was...
"Is he trying to get out?"
Blaidd nodded. "That's the way to the Library. The big bomper wants to come with us."

The giant wolf's back legs kicked hard against the floor with each squirm in the doorway. From here, it looked like he was just wriggling in place. After a good few seconds, though, you noticed that he was actually shuffling forward. His shoulders disappeared from sight, then his stomach, his back legs, and finally his wagging tail. Something creaked from outside. You and Blaidd ran after him, following the wolf into some kind of plaza. The buildings and towers around you were still huge, but now their rooftops were finally in sight. Most of Raya Lucaria lay below the cliff edge on which the plaza stood, the academy fading into a lake of fog. Damn, you really were high up. Madramór stood in an overgrown patch to one side, shaking the stone dust from his fur as the shrubs rustled around his ankles.
A sprawling walkway, part bridge and part staircase, curved into the distance, arching from somewhere beyond the right of the plaza to a tall building up ahead - surely the very peak of Raya Lucaria, for you saw nothing around you that overshadowed it. This had to be the way to the Grand Library. How were you supposed to get to those stairs, anyway? The cliff on which you stood didn't stick out out far enough to reach them. There were a series of struts bracing the stairway against the cliff. You'd have to jump for one of those and climb it up, but it was a big jump for a human. Blaidd might have an easier time, being that much bigger than you, but even he might struggle with it. You'd have to be enormous to take such a jump with confidence. As big as Madramór, in fact.

"Blaidd, does Madramór let you ride him?"
The half-wolf blinked at your question, but realisation dawned in his eyes as he contemplated the distant stairs.
"If you bid him to lie down and then climb carefully onto his back, he'll carry you. Madramór? Gorwedd."
The giant wolf crouched. You braced yourself against the side of his chest, careful not to pull his fur or kick as you scaled him and hoisted yourself onto his shoulder.
"Bachgen da." The half-wolf followed you up and patted the back of Madramór's head. The giant red tail span behind you like a windmill's sail. "Where's the Library, boy?"

Madramór's body tensed and you clung on for dear life. He sprang across the gap, jolting you a little as he landed, and trotted up the steps. Now you were on the staircase you could see how badly damaged it was. Steps lay broken and uneven all the way down it, and curiously all the damage ran in zigzags, as if something had weaved back and forth smashing every stone it met. Something glowed at the very top of the stairs, directly above a set of vast doors. It looked like a pit of darkness, but one that sank upwards through the overhang. It must be another portal thing. And sure enough, it dropped an iron sphere about the size of Madramór. The stone steps cracked under the impact. It rolled down the stairs towards you. The ball crashed into the stone balustrade and bounced off, drifting towards the other side as it gained speed, following the path of damaged steps still crackling under its weight.

You dug your heels into Madramór. "Move, Madramór, you'll get hurt."
Whether he was obeying or he simply had some sense to him, the giant wolf veered out of the way. He turned to watch the iron ball roll past then began to follow it, his ears alert and tail wagging.
"Whoa, boy," Blaidd told him, "Library."
Madramór turned back and ambled towards the Library once more. The double doors ahead of you were already open.
"Good boy, Madramór." You petted the back of his head and began to climb off him. The wolf took no notice. Hunkering down once more, he stuck his head through the doors and began to shuffle on his stomach.
"Off! He's trying to get through again!"

You and Blaidd slid off his shoulders just as he gave a particularly vigorous wiggle that sent you both tumbling the last few feet. He wedged his shoulders through the doorway, ignoring the ominous creaking of the doors. Part of you worried that he was about to tear them off their hinges or get himself hurt, but both doors and wolf survived the onslaught. No sooner had he forced his way into the building then he found another door to squeeze himself into. Eager to please, almost to a fault.

"He's not going to injure himself forcing himself into all these gaps, is he?"
"Unlikely," the half-wolf replied. "This is his home - he's used to making his way around."

With a scramble of paws and a swish of his tail, Madramór burst through to another courtyard. This one was far from the wide-open desolation of the plaza behind the Debate Parlour. It was smaller, walls enclosing it on all sides, giving it a more intimate air. Each corner had once borne squares of grass, but what must have once been neatly tended lawn had turned patchy and wild, choked with weeds. Ivy had crawled out from the grass and wrapped its tendrils around the hooded statues that framed the central path. This was a secretive, secluded place, one that would be content to never be found again.
The red wolf nudged at a figure standing so still that you might have mistaken them for another statue. The armour was certainly befitting of one. Ornate and old-fashioned, with most of the plate except the broad gorget and faulds shrouded by robes of a deep blue. Was this the Sir Moongrum that Mizar had spoke so bitterly of? The figure started at Madramór's sniffing. One gauntleted hand reached up to pat him hesitantly on the snout before gesturing for him to shoo. Madramór turned away, his attention diverted to one of the neglected pockets of grass, and the person caught sight of Blaidd. They immediately dropped to one knee, head bowed low.

"Rise, Sir Moongrum," Blaidd called to him.
Moongrum straightened up. "Lord Blaidd? What's the meaning of this?"
"We need an audience with my mother."
"On what business?"
"Personal."
Moongrum's head turned a fraction towards you, and you felt the weight of his stare even behind his helmet. His voice, already low and resonant, thickened with suspicion.
"And this Tarnished is trustworthy?"
"She is."
"Then you may pass." The knight stood aside. "I don't doubt your word, my Lord, but, as you'll have seen..." He gestured toward the rest of Raya Lucaria, sprawling out below you beyond the walls of the courtyard. "Still squabbling among themselves, are they?"
"Yeah, we heard about the schism," you answered.
"Then you understand why I must be stringent. I am sworn to protect Queen Rennala. If it means shutting out the rest of the academy, then so be it."
You remembered the Lazuli sorcerer's complaint. "Any chance of letting the students get some books?"
"No."
"Not even the Lazuli Conspectus?"
"No."
"Too risky for Rennala?"
"Queen Rennala. And yes."
Fair enough. Personally you'd found Mizar's request kind of selfish given Rennala's circumstances, but you had to make at least a token attempt.
"Lady Ranni and I are thankful for all the care you've taken for the Queen's safety," Blaidd added. Moongrum bowed to him as you approached the tower entrance he'd been guarding. Ah, there was the lifting platform in the middle of the floor. The next thing you knew, something hit you in the back and shoved you to the ground.
"Are you alright, Ma'am?"
You looked up to find your vision obscured by a wall of vibrant fur. Madramór stood neck-deep in the tower. You knew what was going to happen next. You rolled out from under him just before his belly hit the floor.
"Yeah, I'm fine." You stood and brushed the dirt from yourself.
"R-Madramór is going with you?" a low voice called over the grunting wolf trying to stuff himself into the tower.
"He's clingy at the moment," Blaidd explained to the knight. "It's been too long since I saw him."
"It has been too long." Moongrum stepped closer. "Permit me to speak freely, Lord Blaidd."
Blaidd nodded, stooping for Moongrum to mutter something into his ear. His expression gave nothing away, but you didn't miss the droop of his tail.
"...Thank you. We shall take care."

There was nothing to see of the red wolf but a tail and the tips of his toes, and those soon joined their owner inside the tower. You and Blaidd followed after. Moongrum took up his position before the lifting platform once more, and as Blaidd hit the switch you tried to board the platform with Madramór. He had curled up on the square with his tail tucked in, apparently under the belief that he was making himself as small as possible. In reality he'd done the opposite. You had to stand between his paws if you didn't want to hang off the edge of the platform. Things only got more cramped when the half-wolf joined you. You had to burrow into the giant wolf's side just to try and give Blaidd some space. The platform creaked into life and began its journey upward.

"What did Moongrum say?"
"We must be careful of Queen Rennala. She has been..." Blaidd glanced away. One ear twitched as he gathered his thoughts, the other flat against his head. "She may not be what you expect."
"I see."
No you didn't. What did that even mean? Nothing good, going by the half-wolf's pensive expression. You already had little idea what to expect of Rennala. This was the woman who raised Blaidd as her son, but she also had Ranni for a daughter. And now all you could expect was the unexpected. What were you going to find behind the massive doors now heaving into view? The platform halted and you stepped out towards what could be nothing less than the Grand Library. What if this was all a mistake?

Even among the dour beauty of the rest of Raya Lucaria, the Library stood out as its treasured heart. Its walls were carved in painstaking detail. Pilasters were topped in grand arches. Statues lined the alcoves to either side of the entrance, heads bowed and wary eyes peering out from under engraved hoods, a silent guard watching to ensure any visitors approached the Library with the same reverence. You laid your hands on one door, and Blaidd took the other. You pushed in unison. The heavy wood was reluctant to yield to human strength, but with a resigned creak it finally shifted a few inches. Light spilled from inside the room, pallid and gloomy. You braced your arms and gave one last shove. The door swung open. Well, this was it. Your eyes met Blaidd's. Whatever was waiting for you in that peculiar light, it was time to meet it. It was time to meet Rennala. Gathering your courage and biting your tongue, you and your wolven companions entered the Grand Library.

Chapter Text

The room on the other side of the doors was so dark and so large that it was impossible to tell where it ended. Ahead of you, the way framed by gargoyle-topped pillars and candelabras, lay some kind of central atrium. The Library extended even further beyond that - shelves that ran from floor to ceiling divided the room into channels whose scale blurred the line between corridors and rooms, only to vanish into blue-grey shadow. Madramór sneezed and shook himself until a cloud of dust flew from his fur. The air in here was choked with the stuff. The dinginess gave what little light made it into the Library a curious, milky quality, the light of a room that didn't sit high over Liurnia but had instead been plunged into the depths of the lake. Books lay abandoned in piles taller than you, taller than Blaidd, taller even than Madramór.

Something closed around your ankle. You flinched and squinted through the darkness to see probing fingers pressing at your shoe. Blaidd's ears pricked at the sound of fabric slithering over carpet. Something was lying - crawling - across the ground. Their blue robes blended in far too well with the carpet underfoot. If it wasn't for those ghostly fingers, you might not have known they were there. Not until the sorcerer moved even closer. They pushed their shoulders back, spine arching as they turned a pallid face towards you like a flower seeking out the sun. In the dim light their pallid skin seemed to glow, plump and soft with youth, but the eyes staring up at you were sunken and puffy, ringed with circles, eyes with decades of worries behind them. The person's lips parted and a breathy mewl spilled out, but those eyes remained empty. You had never met such a blank face before. Hell, even wild animals' eyes carried a spark of recognition, some sense that they comprehended the world around them. Something told you that the person at your feet was not blind, but that they didn't understand what was going on.

Giggles echoed from the central atrium. Startled out of your unease, you turned to look deeper into the Library. Twin dots of flame shuffled across the floor. Pronged candlesticks, pushed along in the limp grip of more blue-robed people crawling towards you. Half a dozen, at least. All with that same, vapidly benign expression, all with those time-wearied eyes. Old souls trapped in a young person's body, governed by the mind of a baby.

The room began to brighten. The - the sorcerers, you'd have to call them - gazed up at the source of the light in enthralled silence, and you followed their gaze towards the ceiling. A woman floated above them, too high for you to make out much among her flowing robes other than a small pale face underneath some kind of hat like a curved hennin. She reclined on her back in mid-air, something golden nestled into her stomach that she cradled like a child.
"Hush, little culver," she whispered. Her voice filled every corner of the Library, but more with presence than sound. Was she talking to you or to the sorcerers? No, neither. She pressed her cheek to the golden thing she held, nuzzling into it. There was no sign she knew either you or the sorcerers existed. "I'll soon birth thee anew, a sweeting fresh and new."
"Is that Rennala?" you whispered to Blaidd.
"It's as Moongrum warned," he answered, a hint of a growl in his voice as he watched her bleakly. "Mother's grief has consumed her. She's heedless of how her magic runs amok."

If this was what Queen Rennala's magic looked like, then could this be the true nature of rebirth? A sorcerer grabbed your ankle, and you kicked yourself free before stepping away. Was this what you'd brought Blaidd here for? To become like these wretched creatures, free from the Two Fingers but trapped in helpless youth? And how were you supposed to talk to Rennala, anyway? She was lost in her own world, magic and make-believe blotting out her senses. You couldn't reason with her in this state - you'd have to snap her out of it by force. But you weren't going to hurt your love's mother if you could help it.

"Madramór could get her down," you suggested. Rennala levitated too high for you or even Blaidd to reach, but the red wolf could snatch her out of the air with his jaws.
"A good idea. Madramór? Fetch Mother." Blaidd gestured to the floating queen and Madramór craned his neck, front feet almost lifting off the floor. His fangs began to close around a rippling, midnight-blue hem. Suddenly Madramór fell with a yelp of pain that gave way to a snarl. A golden sphere now hung around Rennala. A force field strong enough to blast the wolf's jaws open and throw him back. You winced in sympathy.
"Sorry, boy," Blaidd told him, patting his flank.
Something smacked hard into your leg. You looked down to find a giggling scholar at your feet. The little bastard had headbutted you! That was what you got for letting yourself get distracted at a time like this. They reared back, a shining aura about their head, and lunged again. You brought your foot down on their skull as hard as you could. They slumped to one side, the magic around their head shattering as it met the floor. The sound of it, a tinkle not unlike breaking glass, was drowned out by the same sort of noise much louder and from much higher. A crack spanned Rennala's magical bubble. That aura around the scholar's head had been tinged with gold, just like the queen's barrier. Maybe it drew its power from the scholars. If that was the case...
"Look for anyone with magic around their head and smash it! I think it weakens her barrier! Then we can get her down!"
Blaidd nodded at your words and drew his sword. He went one way and you went another, stalking through the Library in search of the glow of magic. The Library was a gloomy place save for the light cast by Rennala and her barrier, and so darkness engulfed you between the aisles of shelves. Voices echoed back and forth, the quiet and indistinct tones of children, clumsy tongues burbling together. You caught snatches of words, the same ones over and over - lyrics. There was a tune in there. The scholars were singing. Singing to you.

You emerged from an aisle to see Blaidd across the Library, watching him pounce on a crawling scholar and break the magic with his blade. Golden light flickered in the corner of your eye, then vanished. A sorcerer must be crawling past the next aisle. You dived down the shelved corridor and found yourself in another smaller atrium. You scanned the ground near you, but no light spilled forth. Specks of flame appeared in the atrium, forming a wide ring on the ground. Someone was casting fire magic now? You stepped into the clearing, looking between each row of shelves in turn, only to hear a crow of delight from behind you. A scholar stared at the ceiling.
"Squish her! Smoosh her!"
Something was rattling up there. Magic enveloped the stem of a chandelier directly above you. Shit, you'd wandered right into its path. You ran between more shelves, your heart pounding hard enough for you to miss the sound of rustling robes and giggling from behind you. A moment later the chandelier smashed to pieces against the floor. Where the hell had that scholar got to? The chandelier debacle had distracted you from your quarry, and now you'd lost track of the golden glow you'd glimpsed. You returned to the little atrium and peered down each of its corridors. You stepped over the wreckage of the chandelier as you did so and tried to avoid the pool of blood seeping out from under it, the outstretched hand that no longer grasped its candelabra. You tried to put it from your mind and focus on the hunt, but it was difficult not to feel queasy. It may be an adult's body that lay crushed, but the mind within was that of a child.

Ah, there they were! A scholar crawled towards you from behind a desk, hand raised, burbling their lullaby. You struck their head as gently as you dared. They toppled into a funny little half-roll, but the golden aura about their face only cracked. Their candelabra's flames flickered purple. A book pried itself from the middle of a lopsided heap and hovered before you.
"Catch!" the scholar called.
Was this all a game to them? Did they not understand that stunts like dropping a chandelier could kill you, or that you were trying hard not to kill them? You brought your sword down harder, aiming your blow to cleave through the golden barrier but pass over their head. Sure enough, the aura burst around your blade and the scholar simply fell unconscious. The book fell back onto the pile with a quiet thump.

Blaidd's footsteps thudded from the next aisle, followed by the thunder of Madramór's paws. They were running back to the central atrium, back to Rennala. Splinters of gold cascaded to the ground, vanishing among the decorative channels carved into the floor. With a resounding crack, loud enough to make you flinch, the fractured barrier finally tore itself apart. Rennala plummeted. Madramór dove between the shards of magic and stood below her. For a moment it looked like he'd caught his mistress across his back. But the robe-clad figure stirred and slipped off the wolf, landing in a crumpled heap. From among the tangle of blue and red, two pale hands reached out to brace herself, and a face dwarfed by the hennin perched on top of it lifted.

"Mother!" Blaidd called. He knelt to take her hand. Rennala gazed right through him, face blank and disorientated as she searched for something that was not her son. She slipped her hand free of his paw and raised it toward her chest. Light blazed within her palm, growing in size and strength every second. Like hell you were going to let her remake that barrier of hers! You threw yourself at her and knocked her hand away with your dagger. Anything to break her concentration, anything to stop her from flying out of reach again. Perhaps you went for it too hard. There was a groan of pain, and Rennala's hand shone not with light but with the glisten of fresh blood. Blaidd's breath audibly caught at the sight. She dragged herself across the floor - was she moving away from you, or towards that amber blob she'd been cradling before she fell, the one she'd spotted to the opposite side of the atrium? You followed her, your weapon to hand in case she tried to form another shield. She didn't seem to have the strength for her magic now. The poor woman was weak, in more ways than one. She crawled so slowly that the slowest walk kept up with her easily. She left a trail of bloody palmprints behind her.
"Ahh, my beloved..." she crooned to the thing. "Have no fear, I will hold thee..."
You had no idea what it was. From here, it looked like a smooth gold-tinted blob. Maybe, like the golden auras around the scholars' heads, that thing also bolstered the Queen's powers. If you kept her away from it then she would be defenceless. Surely Blaidd would then be able to make her see reason. You overtook Rennala and crouched in front of the thing.

"Don't touch the egg," Blaidd warned you.
"This is an egg?" you replied.

Once upon a time you'd found among a merchant's wares an amber talisman. A fossilised Erdleaf flower lay sealed inside. A rare and precious jewel, the merchant had assured you, trying to justify its hideous price. Needless to say you hadn't bought it. But the amber egg put you in mind of that talisman. Its shell and innards were translucent. Dark veins zigzagged near the surface, over trapped bubbles of air and... and some kind of... by the gods, there were people in there! Bile rose in your throat as you deciphered the entangled limbs, pasty and soft. Ribs and vertebrae poked through translucent skin. You thought you made out a face from in between the small, curled-up bodies. The features were indistinct, like wax figures that had begun to melt. These people must be undergoing rebirth, not quite grown to maturity. Human larvae.
Before the thought could overwhelm you, black mist swelled around the egg. You backed away as the shadow cloaked the egg and streamed towards the ceiling. Rennala's crawling had all but stilled to a feeble writhe on the floor. No, in her state she couldn't be responsible for this new magic. Streams of shadow entwined along themselves and gathered in a thick cloud, hovering for a long moment over the Library as if surveying the strange scene below it - a powerless queen lying among unconscious scholars, a giant red wolf growling at the darkness, and a half-wolf holding back a Tarnished with the words, "Something about this feels familiar."

A voice spoke from the shadow itself as it spread across the Library ceiling. A whisper that, like Rennala's, flooded the room while barely being audible. A whisper that you'd heard time and time again.
"Upon my name as Ranni the Witch, Mother's rich slumber shall not be disturbed by thee."
So it was Ranni's magic that blossomed across the ceiling and poured back to the ground, only to rise anew around a twisting pillar of light. But wasn't her magic usually based in ice? What was all this, then? The light, cold and harsh, drew itself together into a single form, a figure that unfurled itself until it stood a similar height to Blaidd. Spectral robes trailed silently across the stone as the figure stepped towards you with a slow and measured pace. Her pace was slow and measured.
"Foul trespasser," Ranni's disembodied voice hissed. "Send word far and wide of the last Queen of Caria, Rennala of the Full Moon..."
The light dulled and solidified into a replica of Rennala. You glanced back towards the real queen and found her gone. The whole Library had darkened out of existence. You were no longer in Raya Lucaria, but standing on an expanse of water that stretched to the horizon on all sides. The new Rennala drew a staff and brandished it before her, a glintstone in its tip shining bright. Behind her, an enormous full moon was perfectly bisected on the waterline. A false galaxy spanned the sky beyond, clustered thick as a silver stream.
"...And the majesty of the night she conjureth," the whisper finished. Rennala's eyes were closed, her face peaceful in its composure. At her daughter's words, however, she opened eyes as pale as the moon behind her and fixed you with a look of quiet determination. This was not the woman you'd found languishing in the Library, she whose mind was everywhere but the present, heeding nothing but the egg she'd held tight. This was a queen in the prime of her power.

"Stay back," Blaidd warned you and Madramór. Rennala swirled the fingers of her free hand about the glintstone-tipped staff, coaxing strands of magic out of thin air and guiding it into the glintstone. "Follow me, Ma'am."
Blaidd circled around Rennala. The water underfoot was dark, speaking of untold depths, and yet came only a half-inch above the soles of his boots. There must be some kind of floor just below the water's surface, even though it was impossible. You followed Blaidd, caught up with him - just as a beam of magic surged from Rennala and blasted through the spot you'd just been standing in. Dazzling light mingled with the depths of a night sky, given form by the queen's power. You watched it over your shoulder. Thank goodness you hadn't been caught in that. Rennala was far from the frail creature you'd met in the Academy, then. Already your mind swarmed with observations and speculation. So you knew she had one dangerous ranged attack. One that reminded you of Raya Lucaria's sorcerers. Magic-wielders were often more fearsome at a distance than up close. But then this was no ordinary enemy. You mustn't fight to kill. Rennala was your love's mother, and you needed her assistance. She had to survive.

The beam thinned and dwindled into a single blue spark. With a flick of her hand she cast it towards you. It skittered to and fro as it flew at your throat. Blaidd sprang to one side and you rolled to dodge. You heard the whistle of something far bulkier than that little spark flying over your head, and you peeked behind you. What you'd mistaken for a spark was the glintstone at the tip of her staff, and as it spun the spark had seemed to weave back and forth. The whistle grew louder, the staff larger. It was flying back towards Rennala. You ducked until you were almost lying in the water, letting it pass over you once more before you got back to your feet.

"We've got to end the battle before anyone gets hurt," you muttered to Blaidd. "What's the safest way to subdue your mother?"
"That's not Mother." His eyes were fixed on her, the look in them unreadable. "This is Lady Ranni's illusory magic at work. A figment of her devising, to protect the real Queen."
You tilted your head as you looked the queen over. "So if it's not Rennala, that means we can fight it as normal?"
"Dealing enough damage should break the illusion and return us to the library."
Excellent. If this was just a piece of sorcery, then you had no reason to fear for Rennala's safety, and no reason to hold back. Your tactical musings returned at full force. Hurling her staff was unexpected, but it was still a ranged attack. Ranged specialists - magicians in particular - seemed to have little armour and practically no combat skills at close quarters. Their tactics revolved around not letting their opponent close enough to exploit their weakness. Rennala's height and the size of that staff still gave her a wide reach, but you had an idea.
"Let's get up close and stay on opposite sides of her. One of us holds her attention while the other attacks from behind."
"Sounds like a plan, Ma'am."

Rennala raised her arm in a graceful sweep that the rest of her body followed, and she rose a few feet into the air. A shimmer of blue trailed from her staff. She traced an arch over her head, and you watched it form blobs that burned like stars as they flew towards you and Blaidd.
"Okay, now!"
Blaidd ran to the right, with Madramór looming behind him. The queen paid them no mind, and the miniature comets curved through the air to follow your course as you ran left. But you zigzagged too tightly for the comets to keep up, and they fizzled out as they met the water a few feet away.

The two of you reached Rennala at roughly the same time. You saw a flash of unease in Blaidd's face, a moment's hesitation before he leapt into the air and sank his greatsword, glittering with frost, between Rennala's shoulders. You both knew it was an illusion, but that didn't make it easier for the half-wolf to stab a facsimile of his mother. The queen dropped into the water. You saw your chance and set upon her. While Blaidd withdrew his sword and sent a blast of ice magic coursing over the three of you, you concentrated on attacking her head and her right arm. Her strength was her magic, and without it - if she couldn't focus on her spells, or raise her arm to cast them - she became a sitting duck.

Rennala slipped between you and Blaidd as she sprang back into the air. You managed to get in one last slash at a dangling leg before she tucked it under herself, and Blaidd with his height advantage landed another blow across her back. The queen curled around herself, as though protecting her amber egg once more. No egg lay in her lap, however, and it was Rennala herself that was soon enveloped in sparkling shards of magic. For a second you mistook the shape for another egg, round and pale, until the dazzling light faded and you found yourself faced with the moon. Not a real moon, of course, not even the false one that still lay half-submerged on the horizon, but a moon all the same. Rennala tore herself free from it, tumbling gracefully back to the ground as the moon of her creation hung in place, perfect and unharmed. She leapt back and the moon drifted towards you. You'd heard of theories that the movement of the moon and stars churned the ocean's tides. You'd never been sure of it, but the way the water rippled under the moon's approach might make you believe it. Still, you had no desire to investigate. It must be some kind of attack if Rennala had cast it. You backed away, out of its range. As soon as its underside touched the water, the moon burst in a shower of sparks. A few clinked against your armour and the points of contact ached for a moment, even through the metal you wore. It would leave nothing worse than a few bruises. As if something like that was going to stop you!

You ran at Rennala and she lunged to meet you. A sharp sweep of her staff launched a glintstone comet towards you. You rolled just in time. Thank goodness that battling the glintstone sorcerers on your way here had prepared you - this attack was much like theirs, only larger and faster. But you'd seen her lift her arm, and knew that she was about to strike. The queen stood her ground as you rolled, and when you scrambled to your feet you found yourself inches from her - and right in the middle of her next attack. The staff spun vertically before her outstretched hand. It drummed against your armour and helmet until you ached. Swearing to yourself, trying to ignore the throb in your head where she'd pummelled you, you darted around the spinning staff. Before she could react you sank your miséricorde into her hand. Rennala flinched, and her face drained of what little colour it had. Her body lurched from the force of a new blow from Blaidd, a wide slice across her back. She tried to seize her staff once more but you fought her movements, both hands tight on the dagger's handle. If you could only stop her from wielding her staff, that might put an end to her spells.

Your combined attacks made Rennala stumble. She caught hold of her staff with a trembling left hand and drove its base into the water, leaning on it to steady herself. You plunged your dagger into her chest just as the water below her - and you - lit up. Some new magic attack, and you were within its field. You ran outside the sprawling sigil that danced across the water's surface. Perhaps it was Raya Lucaria's emblem, perhaps not, but you hadn't time to scrutinise the swirls you splashed between as you and Blaidd hurried out of its range. The sigil below the queen, and the sparkles drifting on a non-existent wind, weren't the usual blue of her glintstone magic, but a milky white. A strange colour for an enchantment. You didn't think you'd ever seen magic of such a shade before. ...Wait, perhaps you had. Wasn't the summoning of spirits accompanied by a silvery light?

"Come, Blaidd, my child!"
It was the first time the illusion of Rennala had spoken, and Blaidd froze at the sound of his own name. Mist trickled along his limbs and wrapped around them. The alarmed half-wolf shook himself, but the mist held fast. Even swinging his greatsword did nothing to shift it. Your own miséricorde passed through the mist without even disturbing it. His hand found your free one and clasped tight. His grasp was solid for only a moment before his hand melted away, no matter how your own fingers tried to keep hold of him. Your eyes met. Those lavender eyes, bright with panic and confusion, were the last you saw of Blaidd as he dissolved into a wisp of fog. Madramór gave a startled yelp. He trotted over and sniffed the spot where Blaidd had been, then pressed his nose into your palm as if you'd somehow hidden the half-wolf there.
You turned to Rennala with gritted teeth.
"What have you done to him?" you yelled.

Flecks of ashes, shining like the stars in the false sky, rose from the water before Rennala and began to collect in a vaguely human shape. Broad of shoulder and about as tall as his summoner, a mighty greatsword in his hand, and an expression of thorough bewilderment on his face. Blaidd looked down at his hands, ears twitching back and forth, watching the mist dissolve from around his body. It looked like he didn't understand what was going on any more than you did. Even Madramór tilted his head this way and that, trying to puzzle it out. Had Rennala just tried to summon Blaidd as a spirit? The question of what would happen in such an instance had never occurred to you, but now you knew the answer - apparently, summoning a living person as a spirit just warped them to the summoner. The only one unperturbed by the matter was Rennala. Her arms aloft, she flicked her staff in an attempt to set Blaidd upon you, even as he simply stared back at her.
A voice rang across the water. A hushed and gentle tone, a woman's voice from somewhere far away, and yet it filled the air around you in a way you couldn't explain.
"Blaidd?"
Queen Rennala's voice. The real Rennala, from somewhere outside the illusory battlefield. The tiniest movement to one side drew your attention. A series of ripples crossed the water towards you when the voice spoke.
"Thou art truly here, my son? Not spellwork and ashes, but flesh and blood?"
Madramór took a few steps in the direction of the ripples' source, the direction from which Rennala's voice came. Blaidd drifted after him. The confusion in his face had given way to something tender. The light in his eyes was soft, his brow slightly creased, and the love and worry you saw in his face was more than you could bear. Even the illusion of Rennala had stilled, no longer fighting but simply watching the scene play out.
"I'm here, Mother," he called back to her, in little more than a whisper himself.
More words, more ripples across the water.
"All dreams must end. Now I face the morn."

And as quickly, as easily, as inconsequentially as the pop of a bubble, the moonlit waters disappeared into the Grand Library of Raya Lucaria.

Chapter Text

The woman standing in the middle of the Grand Library was not the one you'd seen before. She was not Ranni's illusion, of course; the false queen had been broken along with the night sky and endless waters. But the face high above you - somehow she was even taller than Blaidd - was no longer the empty mask it had been when you first entered the Library, the eyes no longer dull and vague. Small as the Carian queen's head seemed between the gigantic hennin and her long robes, it shone like a full moon. Love lit her up from within, and spilled out in the twinkle of her eyes and the smile she offered Blaidd as she extended her hand to him.

"Thou art no figment. Blaidd, my child, allow me to hold thee as I did in thy youth."

He was in her embrace almost before she'd made the offer. Her arms wrapped around his back and pulled him close. He held her in return, unable to keep the little spin out of his ever-whisking tail. Rennala pressed her cheek against his head, and the candlelight set the tears in the corners of her eyes glittering. Although Blaidd didn't cry, you heard a tremble in his voice as he spoke to her in a tone too soft and low for you to make out what he'd said. Madramór padded around them, nuzzling into a pale face here or a furry hand there. Even if it wasn't deliberate, the red wolf's orbit kept them inside and you out. It was for the best. This moment was not yours, but theirs.
You turned your back and pretended to read the titles on the nearest shelves. The words that met you were enormous. You frowned. You had no idea how to say half of these, let alone guess at their meaning. And you had to pause for a moment at the sight of 'Syzygy, Perigee and Perihelion: Ascendancy of Astrology in Sellian Sorceries'. That was a whole hot mess in itself, but even astrologers couldn't pretend that 'syzygy' was a word rather than a sneeze. If these scholars were so smart, why didn't they just say what they meant? Did excluding people with their big words make them feel smarter, or did they just pretend they understood all this bullshit too? Still, it gave Blaidd and his mother the space they obviously needed. Before you reached the end of that shelf, a soft call from the Queen called you back.

Three chairs had materialised in the central atrium, dark wood and intricately carved, like those you'd seen throughout the Academy. You took the human-sized one and tried not to fidget too much with the grooves in the armrest. Rennala and Blaidd took the larger chairs. Madramór stretched out across the floor with a rumble of contentment. You'd never seen someone of such stature as Blaidd's, but Rennala outdid him in height if not breadth. Now that you were no longer battling, you could take in more of her appearance. For such a tall woman she was slender, but not frail. The robes that seemed to swim on her did not suggest a feeble body underneath. Her hair was pinned up under her hennin, yet a few dark waves peeked from under it and tumbled in wisps by her ears. Her pale skin was tight across her nose and chin, and bore the first hints of soft pouching on her cheeks and in the corners of her jaw. Like the sorcerers who'd crawled about her, now nowhere to be seen, it was her eyes that betrayed her age. Deep-set and a little hooded, those eyes had seen more than their fair share of worries and grief. They were the colour of water just before dawn, the early hours when the sun bathed the world in light without colour or warmth. Her youth was starting to fade, but it took neither her beauty nor power from her. She was every inch a queen.

"And who art thou?" Rennala asked quietly, pale eyes now settling on you. "Blaidd tells me thou serveth my daughter Ranni also, and art companion to him. But I should like to hear thy tale in thine own tongue."
You had never spoken to a queen before. How did you even talk to royalty? Not like regular people, surely. Perhaps you had to be stiff and formal, like when you reported to Ranni. You hadn't known Ranni was a princess when you first met, yet her demeanour had cowed you almost from the offset. Rennala's expression softened.
"Be not afeared, sweetling. I wish to be a friend to thee."

Now that was something Ranni had never done. Noted your awkwardness and tried to put you at ease. The tension in your chest lessened, and your tongue loosened. And so you introduced yourself to the Queen and began to tell her about yourself. You made mistakes, of course. You stumbled over a few words, there were parts of your adventures that you didn't know as much about as you felt you ought, and you downplayed the nature of your relationship with Blaidd, but you told your tale as best you could and Rennala showed no qualm with it. Until you reached the Festival of Combat, anyway. Her brows raised.

"Radahn is dead...?" she asked.
"Yeah. Ranni's fate was stuck unless we released the stars, and the only way to do it was to kill Radahn. There was a Festival of Combat where anyone could challenge him in a fight to the death."

She glanced across to Blaidd, and you saw something haunted in her expression. Something empty and lonely, a snuffed candle that sought out the light and warmth it had lost. Blaidd took hold of her hand and stroked his thumb along the skin.
"The rot had taken his mind, Mother. He existed in body alone; everything else had long passed. For too long he'd been robbed of the noble end he deserved. It was a grand spectacle, fighters from across the Lands Between lined up to face Radahn. He was still a General through and through. A worthy warrior and a true demigod. He might still have defeated all of us, but the Tarnished you see before you outmanoeuvred him."

Why did they speak of Starscourge Radahn like this? Did they know him as he once was? Rennala fell silent, mulling over her stepson's words, as her weary eyes clouded.

"A Festival of Combat." The ghost of a smile played at the corner of Rennala's mouth, even if her face had not lost all its sorrow. "Yes, I think he would have liked that."
"He'd choose no finer death for himself, I'm sure of it," he assured her.
Rennala looked back to you. "I thank thee. 'Tis not an easy thing for a mother to hear but, all things considered, 'twas a kindness."

Not an easy thing for a mother to hear? Radahn was... Radahn was her son. Your hand clenched on the armrest. You'd killed her son, and then in your ignorance told her all about it. This was the last thing she needed, no matter how graciously she seemed to be taking it. You killed her son! Blaidd's stepbrother! Hang on. Why hadn't Blaidd told you before the Festival of Combat that Radahn was his stepbrother? He'd described it to Rennala as an act of mercy, but did the fact that your mission required you to end Radahn's life not trouble him at all? But then, hardly anything seemed to trouble him when it was his mistress' orders. Ranni's orders. Ranni's orders for her stepbrother to kill her brother. You felt sick.

"And what of thine other brother, dear Blaidd? What of Rykard?"

A wave of panic coursed through you. You'd never heard of a Rykard. Maybe you hadn't killed him. Your mind raced through all those you'd killed in the Lands Between. Nameless soldiers, anonymous mages, and monsters. Were any of those Rykard? Had you stolen another of her children?

"The last I heard of him, he resides within Mt. Gelmir." Your sigh of relief must have been audible, for Blaidd cocked his head and shot you a confused glance. "But none have seen him for a long time. Rumour has it -" His voice lowered. "- that he was devoured by a great serpent, but survived, and still works against the Erdtree even as his knights desert him."
"Poor child," Rennala murmured. "To choose such a path... Does desperation drive it, or something worse?"

The whole conversation sat ill with you, weighing on your chest like a stone as their words washed over you. Ranni's affairs - her whole history - was more complex and sadder than you'd ever imagined. Her whole family had suffered in one way or another. They'd all been driven to extremes. Their belief in what was right had driven one brother into the jaws of a monster and the other into a rot-afflicted, mindless eternity. Meanwhile Rennala's grief had trapped her in a prison of her own making. The knowledge didn't excuse what Ranni had done, but it went some way to explain why she was the way she was. You shifted in your chair, and Madramór lifted his head at the sound. Rennala fell silent as she glanced your way.

"This must be a talk for another time, Blaidd," she murmured. "Forgive us, Tarnished. I sought not to discomfit thee. My son tells me of thy courage and compassion. I speak truly when I say that I feel gratitude towards thee, not blame."
"Sorry - I mean, thank you. It's a bit much to take in. I had no idea who Radahn was. I don't know much about the Lands Between's history. Except for my ancestors' exile and some of the Shattering."
Rennala looked you over. "That is thy purpose in these lands, then? Thou seeketh the means by which to mend the Elden Ring, as thy brethren do?"
"Yeah."
"Thou already hast the Great Rune of my eldest son. Allow mine to join it."

An outline of the amber egg hovered before her, glittering and glistening as the contents churned. With a noise like a cracking shell, the egg ruptured and collapsed back into itself in a movement too quick for your eyes to follow, forming a shimmering circle of gold cleaved through by a line. Something similar had drifted into your possession at the Wailing Dunes, you remembered. You'd been so occupied with the sudden downpour, first of stars and then of rain, that you hadn't taken in its full significance for some time. A Great Rune - remnants of the Elden Ring, stepping stones on the path to Elden Lord.

It certainly was a bonus, but it wasn't why you had come to Raya Lucaria. You bowed your head and tried to keep your reply respectful.
"Thanks, Your Majesty. But we, uh, need something else of you. If that's okay."
Rennala glanced between you and Blaidd. "If it be in my power to grant, then thou needst only ask."
"Blaidd told me that you're about the only person in the Lands Between who can birth people anew."
"That is correct. 'Tis that power thou seeketh? It lies in the Great Rune thou hast claimed."
"It's not for me. It's for Blaidd."
"Blaidd?" Her attention turned back to him, and he nodded.
"It's true."
A motherly concern softened her voice as she beseeched him, "Art not ashamed of thy form, surely? My fair culver, thou knowest thy worth is not tied up in thy flesh..." She raised her arms to hold him once more, but Blaidd stopped her with a tilt of his head.
"No, Mother. Nothing as trivial as that. Do you think rebirth is strong enough to cut the ties between a shadow and the Two Fingers?"

The Queen thought it over. Like Ranni and Blaidd (or until you'd learnt to read his face, anyway), the shifts in her expression were subtle. The barest of frowns, a twitch by her mouth as she considered Blaidd's words. You weren't sure whether those little motions boded well or not. You held your breath, afraid that at any moment Rennala's face would fall and she'd admit defeat. But she did not, and the anticipation was almost worse. Whatever her judgement, whether your plan would work or not, you just wanted to know and be done with it.

"...Wouldst take a goodly transformation," she finally answered. "Thy reborn body must be as different from thine own as possible, for it was the Two Fingers that sculpted thy flesh. The more thou changeth, the further thou escape the gods that made thee. But why doth thou desire such a thing?"
"Because Ranni's close to killing her Two Fingers," you explained. "If Ranni attacks them, they'll use their connection to Blaidd to turn him into a weapon. It'll destroy him, and he might destroy her too. Severing the connection will spare them both."
"Hath Ranni not made such plans already?"
"Iji didn't think so."

Rennala sighed, and you heard a hiss in her breath. "That daughter of mine... She was always determined even as a girl. No sacrifice was ever too great for her. Now her vision is focused, but it hath blinkered her mind and her heart both. Many a gift may become a curse. I am sorry that thou would fall victim to it, my son."
"I still serve her, whether she would sacrifice me or not." Rennala began to frown, but Blaidd quickly added, "We'll discuss it later. For now, instruct us in what we need for this rebirth."
"Firstly, I must take the Great Rune of the Unborn from thy friend and grant it to thee. Mindeth thou on this matter?" the Queen asked you.
You shrugged. "Go for it. I'm taking Blaidd with me when I mend the Elden Ring anyway, so it doesn't matter which of us owns it."

The Queen's smile was faint but her eyes were bright. She curled her fingers as if tracing the underside of a sphere, and the Great Rune appeared before you for a second before crumbling in a shower of embers that faded before they touched the floor. She gestured towards Blaidd. The Great Rune faded back into view in front of him, and then disappeared. The Great Rune had found its third bearer in as many minutes.

"And hast thou a Larval Tear in thy possession? Its ability to mimic a living form is vital to my spellcraft."
You fished the silver, liver-like organ out of your bag and handed it to Rennala. Your fingers bumped into hers and Rennala froze, staring at the point of contact. Her gaze roved over your face, then for some reason she looked you up and down.
"I thank thee, my dearling." Her voice had turned even gentler, little more than a kindly mumble, and the way in which she looked at you now bore almost as much affection as when she looked at Blaidd. Weird, but you'd take any measure of approval. "Now the process shall be perfect. Blaidd, remember - thou can craft thy new form to thy will. Thy height and frame, the cast of thy face, thy gender and species - even thine age and abilities art thine to choose."
"I'll remember."
"Once he's been reborn, he can return to his original body, right?" you chipped in.
"He can be reborn into a body that is identical to the form he holds now," Rennala corrected you. "It shalt not be the same body, though it be identical in every way."
"But he can become his old self again without the Two Fingers claiming him again?"
"Yes. The Two Fingers will play no part in crafting his future form. With no stake in it, they cannot usurp it. This I promise."

Blaidd pondered over the matter. His tail flicked back and forth, keeping time like a metronome as he lost himself in thought. There was no need for you to rush the process. It was his body, after all; he was the one who had to live with it, if only for a few moments. You could almost see his thoughts running through his mind as he cast a critical eye over himself, no doubt making a mental list of every change he might make. If what Iji and Rennala said was right, then Blaidd's body carried the Two Fingers' metaphorical fingerprints. The more of his body he discarded, the more he'd free himself. You were prepared for him to come up with something drastic. You'd accept whatever it was, even if it didn't seem like the Blaidd you knew and loved. Under the circumstances, such a change would only be a good thing.
You slipped your hand into his and he grasped it tight, but you said nothing and neither did he. Finally he looked up to his mother.
"I'm ready."
"Then hold thy new form in thy mind, Blaidd, and allow mine magic to do the rest..."

The half-wolf concentrated so hard that his eyes scrunched shut. Rennala stepped towards him and took his hands. As her fingers interlaced with his, golden specks of magic flowed over her skin towards Blaidd's hands, skittering over his gauntlets and flowing up his arms. From there, the flickers of magic followed their own paths. Some crossed his shoulders and headed down whichever arm they had not risen up. Others trickled down his armour to span his stomach or legs, and yet more traced along his head. His eyes were still closed, but you wondered whether he was able to feel what was happening. The magic sweeping over him put you in mind of a swarm of fireflies working together to learn every inch of Blaidd. It looked ticklish. A muscle twitched in his brow, his jaw falling slack and the fierce focus in his expression fading. His hands slipped from Rennala's as he crumpled to the ground. With a cry of alarm you knelt beside him and shook his shoulder.

"Blaidd?"
"Do not fear for him, Tarnished, he is quite safe. All rebirths are this way."

Madramór, still sprawled out on the ground, had looked up at the clunk of Blaidd hitting the floor, but the gold flickers didn't hold his interest. With a lazy thump of his tail, he laid his head back down and exhaled. If the Academy's guard dog wasn't concerned by what was going on, then you had nothing to worry about, right...? Blaidd curled up, limbs tucked in as if drawing into the shell of his armour. Despite his foetal position he didn't seem in any pain. You'd have to trust the Queen on this. Surely she wouldn't harm her stepson. The specks of magic detached themselves from Blaidd and drifted off into the air, each of them turning a distinct amber-red hue before they fizzled out. You tried not to think of bloodsucking gnats rather than fireflies. With his armour and cloak in the way, and his head tucked into his chest, it was hard to tell what changes the magic left in its wake. He was still something hairy, but a few specks carried away with them little patches of fur, which also vanished into thin air. The fur left behind turned even shaggier and coarser. Both his ears were left bald, for you saw their tips covered in ghostly white skin.

A growl, and a cough. A jerk of the head, as if suddenly waking. Blaidd pushed himself up to his feet. Two things quickly became clear as he tried to stand. Firstly, he'd become shorter. Your head now reached just below his chest instead of his waist. And the armour that fitted his old body perfectly now hindered him. His body seemed crooked, but the unyielding armour forced him straight. The cuirass squeezed his chest, while his cuisses dangled from his newly shortened thighs. You could read the discomfort in his posture even before you saw his fa- Holy shit. Your breath stopped in your throat and your blood ran cold. It was all you could do not to scream at Blaidd's new face. Or lack of it. For where his head should have been sat nothing but a skull. Not even a wolf's skull. It looked a little canine but the shape was wrong. Broader than a wolf, and with a more pronounced muzzle. Sharp teeth pierced the raw-looking gums that lined each jaw. The eyes were a uniform black. No sclera or pupils, just blobs of darkness sunken into the skull. His fur started in a grey ruff around his head, like a mane, and two long braids of fur hung in front of his shoulders.

The jaws parted in what might have been a smile if there was flesh to form it. As it was, it could have been a snarl. At least until he spoke.
"I must look a sight, eh? I've never seen you look so fearful, Ma'am."
The voice was a rasping growl, as brutal as the mouth from which it came, and yet you knew the accent. His new vocal cords produced a different sound but you still heard Blaidd in there. You offered him the most confident smile you could muster. He chuckled and turned his attention to Rennala.
"Do I look a monster, Mother?"
A growl rose in Madramór's throat and he roused himself, brow furrowed deeply as he sniffed between Blaidd's ears. The red wolf contemplated the strange figure before him for a few seconds, then gave a sharp bark and drew his tongue over Blaidd's forehead. The tufts of grey mane stuck up even further, wilder and grubbier than ever now they were coated with giant wolf saliva.
Rennala cocked her head and smiled. "Thou'rt greatly changed, but thou shalt always look like my son."
Blaidd's bloody-fanged smile widened at her words. You screwed up your courage to speak to... what had Blaidd turned himself into, anyway?
"How does it feel?" you asked. "Do you feel any different?"
"Well, my armour does this body no favours." He shifted and winced. "It's like trying to stand in a box. But my mind feels the opposite. Like a weight, or a presence, has been removed, and my own self is expanding to fill the space."
"Does that mean the Two Fingers are gone?" You hardly dared acknowledge the spark of joy in your chest, but at Blaidd's nod the feeling grew until it took over your body and left you breathless.
"I've never felt this way before. I have never been without this presence, and so I never heeded its weight. But I feel its absence, and it feels like freedom."

You caught hold of him around his waist and hugged him tight. His gauntlet-clad fingers stroked through your hair. What were his new hands like under those gauntlets? Were they skeletal to match his face?

"Thank you, Your Majesty. This means everything to us. If there's ever a way I can repay you -"
"Think naught of it."
You let go of Blaidd.
"Let's get him back in his original body, then."
"Certainly." Rennala held out an expectant hand. "Share with me another Larval Tear."

Wait. What? What? Shit!

"You need another one...?"
"Yes."
You felt your smile melt away. The brightness and warmth in your chest had been doused in ice.
"Even if you're just changing him back to the form he already had?"
"Every act of rebirth requires a Larval Tear. Even when one rebirth reverts another."
"That seems like bullsh-"
Blaidd growled. The sound was even more bestial from his new throat. You jumped.
"Don't swear at my mother."
"Sorry, Your Majesty. I - didn't expect this. I assumed you could just undo it!"
"Not without a Larval Tear. The magic of rebirth feeds upon it."
"We only had one!"
"I see." She glanced towards Blaidd. "Then thou must remain in that form unless another Tear can be found."
"But he might be stuck like that! We only found the last one through dumb luck!"

You sighed and rubbed your forehead. You couldn't give up just because of one little... great big setback. You'd gotten Blaidd into this mess, saddled him with this uncomfortable and ghoulish form - you owed him all the support you could in getting out of it.
"Fine. We'll just have to figure out how to get another. The last one was on a Grafted Scion pretending to be a giant crayfish."
Rennala nodded. "Larval Tears are the cores of creatures known as Silver Tears. They are beings of the Eternal Cities."
"Nokron and Nokstella," Blaidd added.

Nokron. It had been your destination ever since you defeated Radahn and freed the stars. It looked like Ranni's fate was not the only one to be found in the Eternal City.

"We'll do it. We'll come back with so many Larval Tears that you won't know what to do with them."
"One will suffice, sweetling," Rennala laughed under her breath.
"Silver Tears, Eternal Cities," you repeated to yourself. Simple, right? Put like that, it didn't seem so hard. Already you were starting to regain your old confidence in yourself. "Got it."
"May we call on you in spectral form, Mother? If we need further advice, or... well. To keep you company." His voice thickened on those last words. It was not only for Rennala's sake that he asked to visit her. You'd appreciate the ability to consult the Queen - you'd feel less of an idiot asking her for advice than her daughter. But for Blaidd, the visits meant far more. "You'll ensure the Library's wards will let us through, right?"
You'd thought that the question would delight Rennala. So why did you catch the tiniest flinch at the half-wolf's words?
"My son..." Her gaze lowered just a fraction, and something shimmered in her face, a little like the dimness that had passed through her eyes when she first learnt of Radahn's fate. "I shalt ensure thy friend safe passage through the wards, but thou hast always had it."
"I... have? I don't understand."
"The magic around this chamber forbiddeth entry to all spectral forms save those of my children. So it hath been for many moons. Since before thy father..." Her voice trailed off.

Blaidd's fist clenched. You saw his hands tremble, the claws of his gauntlet digging into where his palm would be. His skull face was expressionless, completely inscrutable, but his ears dropped to bury themselves in his rough mane.

"You mean to say that all this time, we could have - Ranni and I could have - Mother, the years we've left you to suffer alone, for nothing -"
"Thou didst not know better. It was Ranni's will to hide herself away, and thy loyalty to her that kept thee by her side. I knew thou meant no cruelty by it, and I did not hold it against thee."
He knelt before her.
"But it was still cruel. I thought that risking even a spectral projection would break Lady Ranni's cover, or weaken the magic that kept you safe here - I thought we truly had to leave you behind... I've - I've failed you as a son."
"Rise, my child. Thou hast never failed me a day in thy life." Rennala motioned for Blaidd to stand and embraced him. He sank into her arms, eyes closed. For a moment he was not a warrior, but a grieving son drawing on his mother's strength. Blaidd hugged her to him as if he could absorb her into his heart. As if he might make up for years of absence if he simply held her close enough. You heard him choke back a sniffle and looked back towards the shelves.
"I appreciate thy discretion," Rennala called over her son's shoulder, "but it is not necessary. Thou'rt part of our family. Thou may share in our joys as well as our sorrows."
You made your way awkwardly over, just in time to hear Blaidd mumble, "I understand if you can't forgive me or Ranni. We've been terrible children to you."
"Blaidd." Rennala ran her hand through Blaidd's mane, and he nuzzled into what must be a familiar gesture to him. "I hath no terrible children, only children who have made mistakes. Nobody can go through this world without disappointing another, or being disappointed by someone in turn. That is the nature of life. But such mistakes do not a failure make. That is the nature of love. I know thy heart, and it is good."
"I really thought we had no choice, with Lady Ranni in hiding... But to find we left you alone for no reason... Already you were suffering from Father's abandonment, and then we did the same to you..."
"How couldst thou know, little one? Thou hath no knowledge of such magic, and thou'rt enthralled by thy sister."

It was one thing to leave behind your parents where the familial bonds had soured, as yours had, and quite another to leave behind a family one truly loved. Especially when that sacrifice had brought about nothing but pain. Your heart ached for poor Blaidd. Even if he had his mother's forgiveness, it would take him far longer to forgive himself. Still, he truly hadn't known. The rattle in his breath, the tear track curving around his cheekbone, could not be faked. The news had struck him like a dagger through the heart. But did Ranni also not know? When it came to magic, the Princess had both power and knowledge on her side. She had set up an illusory safeguard to protect Rennala. Raya Lucaria was crammed with sorcery, though. Ranni had probably had to navigate the Academy's magic in order to add her own, otherwise they risked setting each other off. It didn't seem possible for her to manage it without knowing what enchantments were already in place. But if Ranni knew that the barriers would let her and her siblings through, then why didn't she make use of them? Rennala posed no threat to her, not when she was so deeply consumed by her grief, and yet Ranni may have not only broken off contact with her but withheld the possibility from Blaidd. There had to be some reason for it. Not necessarily one you'd understand, but there must be a reason.

"Listen well, Blaidd. Thy rebirth hath released thee not only from control of the Two Fingers, but loosened thy obligations to Ranni also. I know what thy sister - my little daughter - is. I see to the heart of her, in all her glory and horror. Love is not blind devotion. To recognise faults, to hold one accountable for sins and crimes, to even hate aspects of them, does not negate love. It is upon thee to weigheth the whole of the person to measure their worthiness. Be not afraid to love, but be not afraid to not love. It is not something to be forced or feigned, or granted to those who are not deserving. Do not let thy heart cloud thine eyes with illusions. Depending on how it is used, love is both the most beautiful and terrible force in the world. See that thou treat it wisely."

Blaidd tilted his head this way and that, his ears half-pitched as he tried to make sense of his mother's words. It was such a very Blaidd-like gesture that it shone through his new form like a flash of light cutting through the darkness. Just for a moment, nothing had changed, and he was still your Blaidd. Then the moment passed, and he remained your Blaidd. No matter what form his body took for now, he was still your love. You'd just have to get used to his... skull.

"Let me hinder thy travels no longer. Both of you are keen for adventure, and I hath been taken from my duties for many moons. Now I must quell the Academy's fighting, tend to Liurnia's needs, and yes, speak with Ranni and Rykard both. But I may always spare a moment for my son, or his partner. Thou'rt an unorthodox choice, but I see some of what hath charmed Blaidd so," she added softly.

Both you and Blaidd suddenly became fascinated by 'Syzygy, Perigee and Perihelion'. Blaidd's cheeks may have had no skin or blood to stain them, but from the burning in your face you figured you were blushing enough for both of you. Rennala stooped beside you and whispered.

"Call upon me in a few months, when thou art more advanced. It will be an honour and pleasure to guide thee."
"Okay...? I mean, thank you, your Majesty..." You had no idea what she was on about. Did she mean to teach you glintstone magic or something, once you were smart enough to understand it? For some reason, your confusion made her laugh.
"Thou shalt understand in time, sweetling." She straightened up. "Farewell, dear Blaidd. And to thee also, Tarnished. Worry not about Madramór. The poor hound may wander the Academy a little longer, then I shalt return him myself."

You and Blaidd petted the red wolf one last time. Now that he'd accepted his master's son had simply changed shape, Madramór accepted both pairs of hands without question, nosing at you both and sending puffs of hot air tickling over your skin. It wasn't easy to tell, but it looked like Blaidd was grinning again. You'd have to learn his facial expressions all over again. At least the way forward was clear. You had two reasons to find Nokron now. Bringing Ranni the blade that was supposedly the Eternal City's secret treasure, and hunting down some of these Silver Tear things. Maybe you'd never be able to tell Blaidd, but you knew full well which mission was more important to you.

Chapter Text

Blaidd led the way back through Raya Lucaria, past the cluttered classrooms and dusty corridors. The poor guy moved as jerkily as the shadowy figures of those Marionette things kicking around in the tunnel. His armour had perfectly fitted a straight-backed half-wolf of around nine feet in height, but now it was clamped around a twisted, lurching body that was entirely the wrong shape for it. You let him hold your shoulder for support, and a couple of times he'd stumbled and pressed so hard on your shoulder you thought it'd pop out of its socket.
But still, you made your slow and shambling way through the Academy. You'd thought he was simply leading you back to the gate and out. When you reached the Church of the Cuckoo, however, he did not simply pass through the nave and out the other side. He shuffled down the corridor leading to the vestiary and hit its hidden switch once more.

"What are we stopping here for?" you asked.
"Apologies, Ma'am, but I can't go on like this." That bestial voice carrying all the familiar tenderness of your lover would take some getting used to. "I must remove my armour, and I think my clothes are fitting me no better. I thought perhaps a scholar's robe would suffice for now."
Ah, that made sense. You could have kicked yourself for not having thought of it. A glittering speck of gold caught your eye. Well, at least you could still be of some use to Blaidd.
"There's Grace just outside the vestiary. I can put your armour in the spectral inventory for safekeeping. Saves you having to carry it."
Blaidd smiled but, with no lips to move, it was more a baring of bloodied teeth. "Thank you."

Robes of all sizes hung from pegs along one wall. Blaidd rummaged through them held up the biggest robe against himself. It would have been ankle-length on a tall human, but on Blaidd it was more of a long tunic. It was the best either of you were going to find around here. He shed his armour and his body all but burst free. His doublet and shirt were bunched around his torso, over shoulders that curved until his upper body was almost parallel with the floor. Wearing his old armour must have been like a portable iron maiden. You helped him unfasten his clothes and pull them over his head.
"Um, Blaidd...?"
You stared at his topless form. You couldn't help it. His torso was much like what you'd seen of his body already, tufts of shabby fur growing from greyish skin pulled tight over each bone and sinew. But there was more to his - her? - new body than that. New shapes, more pronounced curves, the smallness of the waist compared to the hips and...
"You've got...?"
"I sought to make this body different in every way."
"Yeah, but I didn't expect you to be a woman now."
His ears lowered and his skull jerked to one side like he was knocking a fly off his head. If he'd had the flesh for it, you'd imagine him scowling.
"I am no more a woman than I am a Beastman. There is no shame in womanhood, but this body is not me. The same soul lies within me, no matter what shape I find myself in."
When he put it like that, it made more sense. Just another oddity of his new body that would soon be dispelled with another Larval Tear. Whatever was on the outside, the inside was still Blaidd, and that was all that mattered.

"...I might be able to get you something. I'll be back in a minute."
You collected his armour and brought it to the Site of Grace just outside the vestiary's entrance. You'd left his cloak with him for now. It would give him more cover if you couldn't find what you were looking for, but then you did have quite a stash to search.
As you travelled around the Lands Between, you'd gotten in the habit of collecting old clothing. Rolls of fabric were hard to come if you didn't find a merchant, and expensive if you did. But the garments you found on your adventures - formal outfits locked in long-forgotten chests, travelling clothes with their former owner's body half-rotted or scavenged by wild creatures - served you well. Several of them fit, and those that didn't were useful for making new things or patching other items. And so you had a decent amount of clothes accumulating in your spectral storage.
You fished out a long golden cloak, embellished with gold embroidery that was easier felt than seen. It looked the right size for what you intended to provide Blaidd with. You also found a pair of your old trousers that had grown baggy with age. Once destined to become stuffing for your bedroll or maybe a few pairs of gloves, they were the nearest you found to Blaidd's size. With how short the sorcerer's robes would be, he needed some leg cover. Oh yeah, he'd need shoes. You hunted around your stash of boots, but came up with nothing. His feet were simply too big for human shoes. What you'd already found would have to do. You bundled the clothes in your arms and returned to the vestiary.

"Bend down a little, I want to try something."
Blaidd stooped and you wrapped the cloak around his chest, tucking the ends into place. It was a makeshift bandeau, and it would give his new body some support. He nodded in gratitude and slipped his robe over his head. It came to about knee length. You held out the trousers to him and he slipped them on. They were huge on you but only just wide enough for Blaidd, plus they came only a couple of inches below the tunic.
"I couldn't find any boots in your size, let alone the right shape," you apologised.
"No worries. My new feet are little different from the old; my boots still fit." That was a relief.

Blaidd took some strips of white material, like bandages, from a cupboard and wrapped them around his forearms. Manchettes, those things were called, right? You stepped back and looked him over. The effect was... well. In your old village, you'd had tales of werebeasts. Men who became monsters at the full moon, their transformations so quick and violent that their hulking new forms tore straight through their clothing. Blaidd looked like a glintstone sorcerer who'd undergone such a transformation but gotten stuck. Everything was a little small, a little bunched, not quite sitting in the right place. Blaidd caught your eye, and a noise like a snicker escaped him. You relented and giggled.

"Not my finest look, Ma'am?"
"Maybe not. You can move okay, right?"
He shifted from side to side, raising his arms and shuffling his legs.
"Far better than in my armour."
"As long as you're comfortable, that'll do. Now, you need armour too, right?"
Blaidd stared at you, and you realised that there was no point looking through your armour. Absolutely nothing you had was suited to the body of a Beastman. You may as well strap cooking pots to him for all the good it would do.
"Old Iji could reshape my armour, I suppose..." he muttered, his ears lowering. You heard in his voice how little he wanted to lose his armour.
"No, use mine." Blaidd lifted his head to look your way. "I've got a bunch of armour I never use. If Iji can make new armour out of old, then give him some of the stuff we collected. Your armour can stay in the spectral inventory until you're back in your real body."
"You're certain I can use your armour?"
"Sure. It's just stuff I've picked up off bodies. Half of it doesn't even fit me. There's probably enough for a full suit of armour in your size."
"Thank you. My armour is precious to me."
He reached out to pat your hair, but froze when you flinched away from his claws. Shame flooded you. The poor guy must feel weird enough in his new body without you rejecting him for how he looked. You caught hold of his hand and examined it. It was more humanlike now, the fur ending at the wrist to leave wizened grey skin wrapped around each finger. Each nail was still a claw. You ran your fingers over his, letting them dip into the gaps between digits. Blaidd tilted his head and huffed. Was he, like you, thinking of when you'd held his hand like this in Liurnia, back during the hunt for Darriwil? His hands had been so strange, so fascinating. These hands were no less strange, but they still belonged to the man you loved. The more you handled the Beastman hand, the more you learnt, and the less you feared it. Smiling up at him, you brought your fist to bump against it. His wide grin, bloodied fangs bared, froze your heart for only a second before melting it.

And so, rather than resuming the search for the fallen star, you diverted back through Liurnia. You crossed the lake until the sun sank behind the cliffs, the golden-red sky fading into the evening mist and giving way to the first specks of starlight. A trace of the glorious sunset remained in a spot of Grace upon a nearby shore. You clambered onto the island and began to set up camp for the night.

There was something... strange about that evening. About the little island you'd found. Was it because Blaidd's new form looked even more uncanny when cast in twilight? Was it the drifts of flowers that, as the sun sank, glowed a deep, rich blue that reminded you of sea sparkle? Whatever it was, an atmosphere clung to the place. It made you want to sit quietly and drink it in, but at the same time it made your feet restless. You left Blaidd to keep an eye on supper and wandered further inland. It wasn't a large island by any means. All you found was a crumbling old tower with its entrance blocked by a magic seal. A relic of the past that presided over its flood of bioluminescent flowers. Weird. What had drawn you up here...?

"What is this place?" you asked Blaidd over supper.
"The Sorcerer's Isle. That tower is called... Tetsu's Rise? No, Testu. A glintstone sorcerer of old, but I know nothing about them."
A glintstone sorcerer used to live here? Unlike the Three Sisters, you saw no chunks of glintstone piercing the earth. Yet the flowers here burnt bluer than any glintstone. Had their roots drawn in what sorcery remained here, for it to pour out through their petals? Was it the feel of magic in the earth that you were responding to? Whatever it was, it was a peculiar feeling and you tried to put it from your mind.

It was hard not to watch Blaidd eat. For the first time in your life, you felt grateful to have flesh on your face. Eating without lips looked a messy, awkward business. But you did your best to keep your head down and your attention on your own food. If it was you, you'd hate being stared at.
"I know you mean no malice," he told you softly. Damn, he'd noticed after all. "I would be curious too."
"Sorry. Does it feel strange? You know, eating?"
"Everything feels strange. My gait is different, my build, my centre of balance... Everything is new to me. I'm still getting used to how I move."
"Let me help you, then."
Blaidd thought for a moment. "Once I have armour, I'd appreciate a few sparring matches with you. If we're to find Nokron, I must be able to fight."
"Sure! Just don't expect me to go too easy on you."
"Good. I need the challenge. And don't forget, little Tarnished, this body is still far larger and stronger than yours," he chuckled back.
"Yes, but the heart inside is still my good boy's," you countered. "You're still the big guy I love, and I'm going to protect you and help you however I can."
That big toothy grin again, fangs shining from the firelight, so sincere that you simply had to grin back.
"A fierce little dwt, aren't you?"
"Yes, when I have something to protect. Come on, it's getting dark. We need to sleep."

Kingsrealm Ruins lay only a few miles beyond your camp. Even if you slept in, you should reach it by midday. You could just pick out the jagged shapes of Iji's haunt on the horizon. By the time supper was over and Blaidd laid himself out for you, the shapes had almost melted into the darkness of the night sky.
"Thank you. An obedient bed as always," you quipped, settling yourself on top of him. His torso heaved as he gave a barking huff of laughter.
"As always, Ma'am."
Truth be told, he was not quite the same bed. His new fur was slightly rougher and thinner than you were used to, and his chest was... well, a little more padded. But it was still Blaidd's arms that wrapped around you, still Blaidd who nuzzled at you in the dark to seek out your face, still Blaidd who you kissed goodnight.

The morning sun glinted off Iji's mirrorhelm as you and Blaidd scaled the slope of Kingsrealm Ruins. As always, he perched perfectly still on his usual rock, absorbed in his book. Positioned as he was beside the remnants of some building or other, he looked like part of the ruins, a gargoyle keeping watch over a graveyard.

"Iji! Morning!" you called. He turned towards the sound of your voice.
"Ah. There you are, Tarnished. And..."
Iji leaned to one side, peering at the Beastman following you in undersized sorcerer's robes.
"...Blaidd. A strange shape you find yourself in."
Blaidd bowed his head in greeting, his eyes bright with a smile at being recognised.
"It's my shape that brings me here, old friend. I need armour before I can seek out Nokron for Lady Ranni."
"You wish me to reshape your armour?"
"Not quite," you interjected. "Is it possible for you to take pieces from other sets of armour and make them into a new set?"
"That I can do."
"I will have to assess the materials. Poor metal can only become subpar armour. And it will take Smithing Stones besides."
"Smithing Stones are no problem. We've got a bunch of them. Right, Blaidd?"
He nodded.
If it hadn't been that Iji sat so close to a glimmer of Grace, traipsing back and forth to Kingsrealm Ruins with armfuls of heavy armour might have taken all day. As it was, it wasn't long before all your excess armour lay out on the ground. Iji picked through each of them in turn, lifting a few between finger and thumb and examining them more closely. He spoke to Blaidd in a low voice every so often. Probably consulting on what he wanted. Soon Iji had made a pile of plate, next to a little mound of Smithing Stones.
"This will suffice. These are all of good, strong iron. Between them, they should make a fine suit of armour moulded to your new body."

And so you settled into a few hours of Iji's company. The troll was pleasant enough company, even if he wasn't the most talkative. He often lapsed into silence when he was concentrating, and every so often he would call Blaidd over to check how some plate or other sat over his body, but between those points a little conversation was had.

"You have done well crossing the Lands Between safely," Iji told Blaidd.
"We've only come from Raya Lucaria," Blaidd replied.
"All the same, there are enemies in these parts. And you with no armour, and in a new form, tragedy might have befallen you."
"But you recognised him straight away, didn't you Iji?" you asked. "How'd you know it was him?"
"I know the mannerisms of my friend. And he was in your company. Besides, Lady Ranni told me of your diversion."
"Oh...?"

You weren't sure how to feel about that. Ranni and Iji had kept the secret of Blaidd's nature from him, and now he was reclaiming his own fate they were still talking about it behind Blaidd's back?

"I expected that when I next saw Blaidd, he may be transformed," Iji continued. "But I would have predicted a safer guise for him to travel in, something less likely to provoke attack."
"You thought I'd take the chance to be human?" Blaidd asked.
"Merely not be a monster."
"Blaidd's never been a monster!"
The mirrorhelm's glass tinkled as Iji glanced across at you following your outburst.

"...That is true. Blaidd has never been a monster. His shape has changed, but his heart has not." He set down his hammer and held up a piece of newly beaten iron, inspecting it for any defects. "And yet in a land like this, in times like these, what difference does that make?"
Iji set down the iron and raised his hammer again with a sigh.
"This world would make monsters of us all..." he murmured, so quietly that you didn't know whether he meant to say it out loud.

Those words killed the conversation and left an uneasy feeling in the air. You looked between the troll and the half-wolf-turned-Beastman. Iji had a point. Both your companions were beings that many saw as monsters. Just because their hearts were kind didn't change what people saw on the outside. And you were no better. You may have been born human, but that didn't guarantee your goodness. You had always tried to do the right thing, yet only yesterday you told a mother how you killed her son. For a moment your mind was full of Rennala's grieving eyes, her hand seeking out Blaidd's for comfort. How many others had you killed? Those wandering soldiers must have had families. And the creatures you'd killed, were they only monsters from a human perspective? Then there was Ranni. A dainty doll, a princess, a demigod, a monster for her willingness to sacrifice her stepbrother. Your thoughts were as dark and winding as a rabbit hole. The Lands Between were every bit as fractured as the Elden Ring. So many beings simply trying to survive in a broken world, just trying to do what they thought was right. But with so many differences, it was impossible to not be a monster in someone else's eyes.

"This is more complicated than I expected." Iji's musings cut through your gloomy thoughts. "But we are in luck. I have some iron of my own. It will take a little longer to forge it, I'm afraid."
You tried to clear your head and concentrate on the topic at hand. "...Wouldn't some of my other armour do?"
"It is not the same type of iron, Tarnished. It wouldn't match."
"Who cares if it matches? All that matters is Blaidd has something to protect himself with."
Iji looked at you. Although you couldn't see his face, he had a gentle air of disappointment about him, as if you'd said something shameful.
"I understand this is only temporary," he told you in his low, slow voice, "but I shall not burden my friend with inferior armour. It must match to ensure consistent quality, not only aesthetic beauty. To craft something less than my full capabilities, something that Blaidd cannot depend upon or feel pride in, would fail him as a friend and a blacksmith."
"...I see. Sorry."
"Don't rush an old man, eh?" Blaidd teased.
Iji turned his sorrowful gaze on Blaidd next.
"These hands may be old, but they've served well for many years. There shall be no substandard armour from me, even if you wait weeks for it." You heard the chuckle in his tone. It seemed Iji bore no ill will over your thoughtlessness, simply pretending to be offended by this point. Still, you tried to watch your tongue from then on, and you tried to keep your thoughts away from the dark places they'd briefly gone.

The hammer clanked for the final time as Iji set it down.
"It is done."

As Blaidd tried on his new armour, you saw why Iji needed so much iron. To accommodate the curve of Blaidd's torso, the chest armour was articulated. Bands of plate overlapping one another, like the exoskeleton of a woodlouse, so that the whole thing was flexible. It would move with Blaidd, and be easy to put on or take off. And, being a true craftsman at heart, Iji had refused to leave the armour plain. The helm that covered Blaidd's face to the upper jaw resembled the top half of a wolf's head, to the point of having iron ears to protect Blaidd's own. The wolf's head theme continued in embossed motifs on his chest, shoulders and even his knees. Each piece of plate, from helm to greaves - even the individual lames that made up the articulated sections - bore some kind of decoration, even if just a subtle swirling border. It certainly didn't look like something that had been cobbled together from odds and ends. It was something imposing, beautiful in its starkness. Especially when Blaidd slung his own cloak over his shoulders and fastened it in place. He looked a true warrior, and he was standing taller than you'd ever seen since his transformation. Now you understood that armour was more than protection for him. It was part of who he was.

"You've outdone yourself, Iji," Blaidd told him in a voice glowing with gratitude.
"Thank you, Iji. We're ready for anything Nokron can throw at us, right?"
"May it see you safely through the Eternal City and back again."

Well, this was it. Nothing stood between you and the Eternal City, other than finding the place. Nothing would keep you and Blaidd from finding the Fingerslayer Blade that would change Ranni's fate, or the Larval Tear that would settle Blaidd's fate once and for all.

Chapter Text

You'd thought that, after Iji had refashioned Blaidd's armour, the journey back to Liurnia would be swift and straightforward. Nothing would stop the two of you sweeping into Limgrave and hunting down the fallen star. That was not the case. Between Liurnia and Limgrave, your path would cross with not one but two of your allies.

"Do you hear that, Ma'am?"
Blaidd turned his head yet again, a pair of tatty and hairless ears pitching up from amongst his mane. You looked behind you as well, even though once again you were met by the sight of nothing. A fringe of grass, a clump of shrubs, and the edge of the cliff, beyond which Liurnia Lake lay clad in its customary mist, lit from above by a high sun.
"It's just something creaking."
"I don't think so. The sound is following us."

He was right about one thing - you'd been hearing that little squeak for the last few minutes. Not constantly, just a little creak now and then to tug your attention away from the path. The first time you heard it you'd looked for the source, but there was nothing to see. The noise was so faint and so infrequent that you chalked it up to something in the environment. The creak of a sapling struggling under its own weight, perhaps. Or someone's leather knapsack had succumbed to the elements and needed oiling. That would explain why the noise seemed to stalk you. Much more likely than something following you. Sure, there was a rustle of grass every so often too, but far too small to come from a person's footsteps. Probably just springhares in the undergrowth. Blaidd had never just accepted the creaking like you had, though. With every sound, up went his ears and up went his hand to his sword. For a moment, he would be poised to strike, only to release the hilt and continue on his way once more. You wondered if it was his clothing that had him on edge. His armour may fit his new body now, but the mismatched collection of clothes you'd found for him did not. That robe stuffed into his cuirass couldn't be comfortable. The day was bright, the weather warm by Liurnia's standards. The poor guy was probably boiling to death. He wouldn't admit it, but sometimes you caught him in the corner of your eye, fidgeting and trying to adjust his armour.

"There's not enough cover to hide an enemy," you pointed out in an effort to lay his anxieties to rest. "Nothing dangerous, anyway."
"Danger is not my only concern." It was hard to read from the Beastman skull that his face had become, but worry softened the edges of his words. "I hear pain, Ma'am. Pain, or fear."

Blaidd thought something in pain was behind you? Now that was different. If someone was following you around because they needed assistance, it would be cruel to ignore them now you were aware of it. And so, palming your dagger - it might still be a trap, after all - you and Blaidd crept towards the nearest bushes. The shrub quivered at your approach.
"Are you in there?" you called. "Are you hurt?"
You crouched to look deeper. There really was something in its branches, a dark shape tucked away and whimpering. Maybe a wounded animal? For a moment, a pair of small golden eyes stared back into yours. The brush trembled as the squeak sharpened into a cry of... surprise, maybe? Fear shone through the cracks in the sound. A hand burst forth from the branches. It shook so badly that the knife it clutched threatened to slip free.

"Master, get back! A m-monster is trailing you!"
You knew that bony little hand, those yellow eyes, that voice calling from in the shrub.
"Boc...?"
"Back, I say! I'll... I'll defend you while you escape, Master."

Boc untangled himself from his hiding place and set himself between you and Blaidd. ...Oh. Oh, bless him. The poor, mistaken demi-human trembled like a leaf as he tried to stare Blaidd down. Climbing out of the bush had knocked his hat askew and, standing before what he thought was your enemy, he shook so much that the hat fell off. Blaidd stooped, his body looming over Boc's.
"Oh dear...!"
With that as his battle cry, Boc swung his dagger. Blaidd caught his wrist just as the blade's tip clinked against his armour, then let go as he continued to reach for the ground. He scooped up Boc's hat and set it back on his head.
"I am no enemy, little fellow. If you're a friend to Ma'am, I'll be a friend to you."
Blaidd paired his words with a smile. Or that was what your eyes saw, anyway. To Boc, it was a flash of gore-stained fangs. Boc paled and turned his attention to you.
"You've tamed a monster, Master? Oh, you have the makings of a true Lord, and no mistake...!"
"He's not a monster, he's a dear friend of mine. He just looks this way because he was reborn as a Beastman. This is Blaidd. Blaidd, meet Boc."

Blaidd bent down once more and held out his hand. Boc shook his hand while trying to touch as little of it as possible, his eyes fixed on the curving claws.

"It is a fearful body," Blaidd added. "Braver men would quail at it. But I will not look this way much longer."
"You're looking for Larval Tears then, Master?"
You blinked.
"How'd you know about Larval Tears?"
"You said your friend was reborn into a new shape. I've heard that Rennala of Raya Lucaria has such a power."
Did everyone in the bloody country know about Larval Tears except you? Now you felt even sillier about your blunder. It was your fault that Blaidd was stuck in this form, after all. But if Boc knew what a Larval Tear was, then maybe he could help you.
"Boc, what do you know of Silver Tears?"
"Not a bean, Master. Never heard of them."
"Oh." Boc visibly wilted, and you quickly corrected yourself. "I mean, I don't know anything about them either. Most people wouldn't. I didn't even know about Larval Tears until a few weeks ago, so you knew more than me there."
"I may not know much, but whatever knowledge I have, it's always at your service."  

Blaidd straightened up and stretched, probably tiring of being crouched at Boc's level. You caught a grumbling growl as he fidgeted once more with a strap near his hip. There was something Boc could do for you, come to think of it.

"Do you have your tailoring tools on you?"
Boc's expression brightened at the mere mention of them. The last time your paths had crossed, you'd retrieved his stolen tools. They were more than treasures to him; they were memories of love given a physical form. His ears bobbed as he nodded.
"I do, Master. Does this mean you wish me to serve you as your seamster? Please say you'll allow it. I can't make nothing from scratch yet, but… I'm happy to make adjustments to your garments."
"Perfect. Blaidd, how'd you feel about Boc making your clothes fit better?"
Blaidd lowered himself once more to address the demi-human, who recoiled at the nearness of those jaws.
"You would have my eternal thanks, Boc."
Boc swallowed, still eyeing Blaidd's teeth as if they'd spring from their owner's mouth and bite him of their own accord.
"Let me see what I'd be working with, sir."
Blaidd shed his cloak and armour, and the clothes he wore underneath spilled from their confinement like guts from a sliced belly. The robe taken from Raya Lucaria, worn as a tunic, was crumpled and creased. Your old trousers ended somewhere around his knees and their seams strained under the effort of not tearing. Boc scrutinised the sight before him.
"...Yes. Yes, I can fix those up in a jiffy."

And so you passed a while on top of the cliffs, watching the seamster at work and assisting him when needed. It fell to you to wrap the measuring cords around Blaidd's upper body, for example, for Boc's arms simply weren't long enough to measure a Beastman's body. Blaidd's new spine hunched near the top, and his shoulders and rib cage were oddly proportioned to allow for it. Boc had never tailored to such a shape as this before. Boc would hold one end of a cord, and you wrapped the length of it around whatever part you'd been set to measure. More than once, you felt a little shiver run through Blaidd as your hand skimmed his side or dug through his fur to find his skin. At least the fact that you'd met Boc not ten yards from a Site of Grace saved your love some blushes, for its protective wards meant nobody else would see him in a state of undress - although that was quite enough for both Blaidd and Boc. The demi-human's face flushed when he realised that the body he was measuring did not match its owner's gender, but he said nothing of it. You and he took measurements diligently until a few bundles of cords lay at Boc's feet, organised into groups depending on what parts of the body they'd recorded, knots marking the distances for Boc to refer to.

While Boc tailored the robe you'd stolen from Raya Lucaria, you and Blaidd made a little fire to boil tea on. You'd be here a while, so you may as well make some refreshments. They were the least you could offer Boc. But when you held out a piece of ash bread for him, you were met by his polite rebuff.
"Not for me, yet. I don't want to dirty my hands or stain these clothes. But I'd gladly take a drink, Master, as long as I'm careful with it."
"Sure. What do you want?"
"Would it be too much to ask for some mushroom tea?"
That was a new one to you, but you poured him a mug of hot water and tipped some dried mushrooms into it. Colour began to seep into the water, slowly turning it a greyish-brown. A faint earthy scent rose from the cup. As the robe took shape under Boc's nimble fingers, the scent of mushrooms became stronger and stronger until every breath of air tasted like broth. It wasn't until the final seam was sewn, the last pin removed from the robe, that Boc set it out of harm's way and reached for the mushroom tea.
"Thank you kindly. Now if you'd try that on, sir, and if Master wants to help with the trousers...?"

You helped Boc unpick the stitches from the old trousers and spread them out flat on the ground, a template of themselves, as you'd done with the robe. The demi-human found the measuring cords for Blaidd's lower body and laid them out over the trousers, starting to map out where to cut and where to sew.
"That's from Raya Lucaria, isn't it?" He nodded towards the garment Blaidd was pulling over his head. "How'd you get that, then? Is your friend one of them scholars?"
"We borrowed it on the way out. It's all that'd fit."
"No easy job getting all that into the armour, then. But this'll help him, I hope."

At that moment, Blaidd straightened up and the robe fell into place about him. Not that you could call it a 'robe' anymore, for Boc's tailoring had transformed it into a traveller's tunic that reached his knees. Not only was it a better length, but a better fit. It was easy to move in, yet fine enough to pass for a noble's garb. All the excess fabric had been trimmed away, and now it followed the shape of Blaidd's body, cradling the curvature of his shoulders, skimming the waist and loosening around the hips. It... it really brought home just how much Rennala's magic had changed him. You found yourself staring, a prickling in your cheeks telling you that you were blushing. There was nothing immodest about the tunic, of course. No low neckline, no skin-tight fit, nothing with the purpose of flaunting the figure. But this was the first time you'd really been able to see those new aspects of him. Without his armour, it would be so easy to mistake him for a woman. Blaidd's ear flicked, and he tilted his head at you. You felt your cheeks burn even more as you dropped your gaze and returned your attention to the bits of trousers spread out on the ground. This was weird enough for him as it was - no need to make him uncomfortable with your stares.

Boc picked at a thread along a hem, teasing it loose and unrolling the hem to add a precious half-inch of fabric.
"So, if I can ask it, what took you to Raya Lucaria? You wanted to know about those Silver Tear things?"
"Kind of. All we know is that they're from the Eternal Cities."
The tips of Boc's ears drooped. "I don't know about no Eternal Cities, Master. Leyndell's a city, but I never heard it called 'eternal' before."
"These cities are lost places, or hidden. I don't get it, exactly, but there's something about a falling star opening the way to them."
A pause. You were holding one end of a measuring cord, and Boc the other, as he double-checked the points at which to pin the trousers together.
"You see anything fall out of the sky recently, Boc?"
He cast a sorrowful glance towards the spectre of the Academy, barely visible on the misty horizon.
"If astrologers couldn't tell you about it, then what hope do I have? My ignorance fails you again, Master."
"No it doesn't!"

It kind of did, but... Wait. Both times you'd met Boc before were in Limgrave. This was the first time you'd seen him outside Limgrave, and even now he was barely past the border of Stormhill. His travels were slow, and centred around Limgrave. What if he'd been in the area since the Festival of Combat?

"When did you pass into Liurnia?"
"The day before last, Master."
"And how long were you in Limgrave before that?"
"Since we last met at Coastal Cave."
"Have you been there the whole time?"
"No, Master, I came up to Stormgate - just wanted passage to Liurnia, I did - but the soldiers threw me out."
"Threw you out? As in, they caught you breaking into Stormveil?"
Infiltrating a fortress was far beyond the Boc you knew. Sure enough, before you could be too impressed at his daring, the demi-human shook his head.
"As in they found me at Stormgate and threw me off a cliff."
You swore. Getting thrown off a cliff was typical of Boc's luck, but it didn't lessen the cruelty of what the soldiers had done.
"I laid low by Murkwater for a while," he continued, "then went back to Stormgate. Much more cautious this time, I was. I kept myself hidden, and I found the secret way around the fortress. Not one for fighting, you see."
"It was still clever of you to sneak past them like that. And you've helped me in looking for the fallen star."
"Eh?" Boc froze mid-stitch, his eyes round and wide, like Runes set into his face. "But I've not done a thing to help you, Master. I've seen nothing of a fallen star."
"Exactly." You grinned down at him. "You've covered a pretty big chunk of Limgrave without seeing anything out of the ordinary. So if the star landed in Limgrave, you've told me where it probably isn't."
"Oh..." Boc pondered your words. "Now there's a thought. Yes, it does help, doesn't it, when you put it like that?"
"See? You're a big help, and not just as a seamster either. Don't sell yourself short."
There was a snaggle-toothed smile on the demi-human's face as he slipped another pin into place.

Under Boc's hands, the trousers soon took form. A task being done well by someone who loves their work is always a pleasure to watch, and Boc clearly knew his craft. In his way he was as clever as any sorcerer of Raya Lucaria. You found yourself transfixed by the flow of the needle and thread, back and forth, in and out of the fabric.

Boc was one of life's unfortunates, someone that fate liked to kick when he was down then keep its boot planted in his back. The first time you met him, he'd been stuck as a tree until you broke his curse. He hadn't even done anything to warrant the curse; someone had simply felt like it. Then you'd found him in a cave by the coast, beaten half to death. His fellow demi-humans had stolen his tailoring tools and attacked him when he tried to take them back. You'd ignored his warnings and headed deep into the cave, emerging a while later with Boc's lost tools in your bloodied, bruised hands. He'd mourned the loss of those tools like he'd mourned the mother who left them behind. It was his mother who'd taught him his craft, the one person who had ever seen beauty in him and sought to help him instead of harm him. The beauty she'd seen in him shone as he adapted Blaidd's clothes. It was in his eyes, sharpened by focus yet gentle with care for the material he'd been entrusted with. It was in his hands as he handled his scissors and needles like extensions of himself. It was in his demeanour, the kindness and devotion with which he worked. Every scissor-snip, every pin and every thread was deliberated upon for a moment then placed with precision. You'd never seen him so sure of himself. But for all his practiced ease, he never rushed a single stitch, nor treated the task as anything less than precious. His skills were a legacy of love, just as the tools he wielded were. In sewing, Boc became more than a timid demi-human with the world's boot between his shoulder blades. He became the manifestation of a mother's love, a conduit of beauty. Her skills and her care were his inheritance, and he channelled them into every part of his work.

And even though you helped at every stage, you still couldn't figure out how the demi-human created such wonders from the mismatched outfit you'd presented him with. The travelling tunic was impressive enough, but now Boc had somehow found a few inches' worth of material just from unfolding the trousers' hems. Blaidd tried them on. Sure enough, the ends of the legs just met the top of his boots, and the seams weren't even pulling anymore. But the demi-human hadn't finished there, either.

"Would you mind if I...?" Boc gestured to the golden cloak you'd wrapped around Blaidd's chest as a bandeau. "Only it doesn't look comfortable..."
It was hard to tell who looked more embarrassed, Blaidd turning away to remove the cloak or Boc taking it while trying not to touch it. Once the cloak laid flat, Boc was back to his usual self. Out came the measuring cords, out came the scissors, and it felt like a matter of moments before Boc was threading some lacing through the side of a new garment - something much more supportive, much more fitted than the tied-up cloak had been. And with the leftover cloak, the demi-human even fashioned a pair of braies for Blaidd to wear under his trousers. Very short indeed, for there hadn't been much cloak left, but still enough to give Blaidd some modesty.

As Blaidd dressed himself once more, donning all his tailored clothes together for the first time, you were struck by the change in him. He no longer looked like a Beastman with the contents of a wardrobe flung at him. This was the tallest you'd seen Blaidd stand since his rebirth, even with his hunched shoulders. His tail and ears were perky yet relaxed, and somehow his relief was palpable even through his skull-face. Finally, the poor man was comfortable. He offered Boc a bow, something that flummoxed the demi-human.

"Thank you. Your kindness will never be forgotten."
"Seriously. His clothes have been a problem for a while."
You set a bundle into Boc's hand, and he unfolded it to look over its contents. Some food, since he wouldn't eat while he worked, and a few Runes.
"I don't need payment, Master - you provided the material yourself, and it's an honour to sew for you."
"But it was your time and knowledge that was used. And your thread, if you won't accept that. The Runes will pay for more thread at least."
"I really don't ask anything in return."
"But it'd make us happy if you accepted it."
"You value a seamster's work so highly?"
"Sure we do."
Blaidd nodded from behind you.
"Then I'll accept, Master. You're very kind, both of you."

As you parted ways, you couldn't help one final glance over your shoulder. Boc had picked a chunk of jerky from the bundle and sank his tiny fangs into it. You smiled at the sight. Well, at least he was happy with his payment, even if you wished he'd accepted more. He probably had no idea just how much he'd helped you today. Blaidd's ill-fitting clothes stuffed into his armour hadn't just made him awkward and uncomfortable, they'd actually made combat practice impossible. Although he was used to walking and even running as a Beastman by now, fighting was another matter. Now, though, the two of you could finally get him up to speed. And, of course, Boc's information helped you look for the fallen star. If you knew where it wasn't, you could focus your efforts on where it was.

If you ever saw another human in the northern stretches of Liurnia, it was usually a soldier. You'd avoided enough of them over the past two days as you skirted around Stormveil and passed through Stormhill. The sun cast your shadows long before you, stretching out amongst those cast by the ruins of the old gatefront until the land was crisscrossed with darkness. The evening was drawing in fast. You'd need to make a camp for the night soon. You knew of a Site of Grace further along the main road, so that would do, but then you needed to decide which route you'd take tomorrow. These ruins were the point at which two roads met: the main road that ran east, and another one heading south. You and Blaidd usually planned your day's travels over breakfast. That way you could read maps by the morning light instead of squinting at them by the fire, not to mention the risk of setting them alight.
But those thoughts were interrupted by a flash of darkness at the edge of your vision. Another shadow laid out long by the setting sun, moving in your direction. Two. Soldiers? Did you need to hide, or stand your ground and fight? The shadows converged then split up again, but remained close to each other. Neither were in a hurry; they ambled along with all the time in the world. Not soldiers, then. And - you almost grimaced when you realised this - one shadow would have made a very strangely-shaped soldier indeed. Limgrave's armies may have been a shambles but even they hadn't resorted to enlisting donkeys. You peered down the southern road, and your suspicions were confirmed. A heavily-laden donkey headed for the junction, led by its owner. The light was fading fast, and the figure's face was obscured by something, but the shape of that hat - and indeed the presence of a donkey - was unmistakable. You were so used to seeing Kalé at the Church of Elleh that it never occurred to you that he'd ever left it. He was part of the architecture, a sort of living gargoyle with no more ability to leave as his stone companions. But, of course, most merchants of the Lands Between are nomadic. And so Kalé must have seen fit to move on, leading his donkey up the southern road towards the very junction you and Blaidd stood at.

The new arrival didn't escape Blaidd's notice. His gaze was fixed on the merchant, the whisk and flick of his tail the only part of him that hadn't frozen. Blaidd and Kalé knew each other, right? It was Kalé who taught you how to call the half-wolf down from the ruins. Why was Blaidd so perturbed by the sight of his friend? ...Ah, it must be because they were friends. Kalé wouldn't know of Blaidd's rebirth; he'd see only a Beastman. Did Blaidd want to be seen like this? Would he rather greet the merchant or hide from him?
"What do you want to-"
But before you could finish your whisper, Blaidd's voice pierced the twilight. It came as a rasping snarl from a Beastman's throat, a sound that made the donkey bray and the merchant look up sharply.
"If you didn't laden that poor beast so heavily, you might save yourself a walk."
Kalé's expression was inscrutable, both from the poor light and from his half-shrouded face. Perhaps there was a frown in there, a confused narrowing of the eyes as he contemplated the figure by your side. It cleared a moment later as the merchant chuckled.
"So rusted at hunting that you want to prey on my donkey? Am I to cook it for you, or is it simply removing the pack that's too much for you?"
"I wouldn't eat your donkey if it was the last meat in the Lands Between," Blaidd countered.
"I appreciate it. If only because you'd have had to eat me first, and who knows, I might give you a stomach-ache."
Blaidd snorted with laughter, stepping closer until the two friends stood before each other.
"I'm surprised you recognise me like this," he told Kalé softly.
"It's your accent that I hear. A fine disguise you have, until you open your mouth."
Blaidd treated him to a closer look at his new mouth, snapping his fangs an inch from the merchant's face. Such a thing would have made Boc faint, but Kalé only laughed. This was just the relationship they had, it seemed. The kind of men who butted heads with each other, but would unite against anyone who slung the same barbs at them. It may not look like a friendship to someone who didn't understand the power of banter. You recognised something of your own relationship with Blaidd in it. Still, with your limited dealings with the merchant, it was a side of Kalé you weren't familiar with.

The three of you shared a fire that night. You made an odd-looking group - a Tarnished, a merchant and a Beastman - and your dinner was similarly hodgepodge. A whole leg of venison roasted over the fire, a pan beneath it to catch the fat that melted and dripped from it. When the meat was nearly ready, you'd use that fat to fry vegetables. Kalé made some kind of fruit soup, thick and sour-sweet.
"What are these?" you asked, looking closely at a spoonful of simmered fruit.
"Berries."
"I know, but I've never seen these kinds of berries." It was unusual for you to not recognise a berry. The red specks resembled hawthorn berries but weren't, and you'd know if you'd seen golden blackberries before.
"They're not known in this land, Tarnished. They grow in much snowier climes."
"He won't even tell me what they are," Blaidd added. Kalé shot him a sideways glance.
"You've never asked what they are."
"What are they, then?"
"Berries."
Blaidd's sigh almost drowned out Kalé's snicker.

The soup was good but, by the time the venison had cooked through, the three of you were more than ready for it. Over dinner Blaidd filled Kalé in on your latest escapades: your journey to Raya Lucaria, and the rebirth that saw Blaidd become a -
"A female Beastman?" Kalé's gaze swept over Blaidd. "And not a single 'thee' or 'thou' from you? You'd make a terrible woman of Caria."
Huh? Oh, right. Ranni and Rennala, the women of the Carian royal family, both spoke like that. And yet Blaidd didn't. Did the Carians only instil it in their princesses, or was there another reason Blaidd used 'you'?
"Do not make me thee your thou, Kalé," Blaidd muttered.
"Thee thy thou," you added.
"Don't you start too, Ma'am."
Kalé's eyes shone with mischief at what he'd started.
"Help him speak more fittingly, Tarnished. Coarseness doesn't suit his station."
"I'll hire her as my tutor in etiquette on the day I choose your donkey for dinner," Blaidd shot back.
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I could be polite if I wanted to, I just don't want to."
"Indeed," Kalé answered drily.
"Rennala liked me well enough! I was polite and charming back then, wasn't I?"
"That is true," Blaidd admitted to the merchant. "Mother was very taken with her."
"See? Leave off this 'a Tarnished can't be a lady' shit." You stabbed a chunk of mushroom with your fork and shoved it into your mouth, talking around it as you continued, "It's just a waste of time, most of the time." You hadn't realised just what a spectacle that must have been until you noticed Blaidd and Kale catching each other's eye and stifling their chuckles. Their smiles faded as you picked up your knife and speared another mushroom, and they busied themselves with their own food.

Soon the venison leg was nothing but bones, and Blaidd cracked them open with his jaws to scrape out the marrow. To your surprise, Kalé took a broken bone and helped himself to marrow. Was it really that good? You took a piece, scraped out the marrow and popped it into your mouth. ...The flavour was okay, but not worth the effort of cracking the bones open in your opinion. You left the rest to those with a greater taste for it.

You ended the meal with dandelion coffee for a change. It had been Kalé's suggestion, and Blaidd's tail gave a weak thump against the ground as the merchant unwrapped something and began to cut off little chunks of it. He dropped a few pieces into his own mug, then some into Blaidd's, and gave you a questioning look.
"Would you like some cheese too?"
"Ch-cheese...?" You'd have sworn that he just offered you some cheese. But cheese in coffee...?
"Kalé's famous coffee with cheese," Blaidd confirmed. "Too long since I last had some of this."
"No matter their size or shape, all dogs like a little cheese."
Blaidd made a sound that was half huff and half growl, half playful and half disgruntled. "Adding cheese to coffee is one of the few things I trust you to do."
So it was a serious offer. And apparently a good one, if Blaidd's wag was any indication. It seemed strange, but anything was worth trying once. You held out your mug, and Kalé chopped in some cubes of cheese.
"Try it once it's absorbed some coffee, Tarnished."
Wait, now the cheese was absorbent too? You peered into the cup. Now you looked closer, you noticed how porous the cheese actually was. The texture was more like bread than anything, and it was already turning brown where the coffee had soaked in. You fished out a chunk and took a bite. It squeaked against your teeth. You flinched at the sudden sound. Yet other than the noise, the coffee-infused cheese wasn't bad. It was soft and mild, and carried the flavour of coffee well. You learned something new every day.

"So you've heard our business, but what of yours?" Blaidd asked the merchant, chewing on his own piece of coffee-cheese. "It's been a while since you left the grounds of that church."
"I'm bound northways for Liurnia. There have been... developments in the search for the Great Caravan."
Blaidd nodded, a smile of approval on his face. You hoped he'd say something that would clue you in to what this Great Caravan was, but he remained silent. You'd have to take the initiative if you didn't want to be left out of the loop.
"What's the Great Caravan?"
There was a moment's pause, as if Kalé was weighing up whether to trust you with this information. His eyes darted a fraction in Blaidd's direction, and your love gave an almost imperceptible nod.
"The home of my people. It's been lost to us for ages."
"Is that why your folk are nomadic, then? Your home's been lost, and so you live on the land, looking for the Great Caravan?"
The merchant gave a rueful laugh.
"Few of us are looking for it. It's a dream in the back of many minds, but one that's passed into legend for some. I have been searching for it as long as I can remember."
"But now you think it's in Liurnia?"
"Knowledge of its whereabouts may be in Liurnia," Kalé corrected you.
"I hope you find it. The Great Caravan, I mean. Or at least the information about where it's gone."
Kalé gave a pleased sort of murmur that disappeared into his coffee a moment later. Your words were clumsy but at least the sentiment had found its way.
"If such knowledge can be found in Raya Lucaria," Blaidd suddenly added, "then we have access to the Grand Library. We can search out any books there concerning the fate of the Great Caravan."
"My thanks to you both. How fortunate it is to have one fine friend and one worthy customer." The merchant's eyes were soft, even if his words carried a little sting. You'd seen enough of his banter with Blaidd to know that he meant no slight by it. "Do not doubt that I'd repay such a debt. Deed for deed, knowledge for knowledge."
You sat up at that word. Knowledge. Kalé might build on what Boc had already told you.
"Oh! Yeah, we need to know something that you might know." The merchant inclined his head in your direction as you spoke. "Has anything fallen out of the sky around here recently?"
"A falling star, hailing from the east," Blaidd clarified.
"Ah, that." Kalé sipped his coffee. "Quite the talking point, a little while ago. Every traveller passing near the Mistwood brought word of a celestial impact, leaving behind a great crater. Many came to gawp at it, or tried to climb into its depths - or so I heard. But this was a few weeks past, and interest has dried up since."
"The Mistwood? Did you say it's near the Mistwood?"
"At the foot of the Mistwood, due west of Fort Haight."
"You hear that, Blaidd?"
He returned your smile. "The Eternal City draws ever closer. You've saved us a lot of searching, Kalé."
"Think nothing of it. You would do the same for me."

The rest of the conversation washed over you. You stared into the fire, hardly seeing it. How were you supposed to focus on anything with the sense of anticipation that bubbled in your stomach, demanding your attention? The star had hit land after all, and you knew exactly where you had to go. Nokron lay waiting for you. Its treasures were almost in your grasp. You could practically feel them. It wasn't the hilt of some lost blade that your mind's eye conjured up in your hand, however. It was the quivering flesh of a Larval Tear.

Chapter Text

The sun had shone as brightly as it ever did over Limgrave that day but, now dusk had passed, the moon rivalled its light. Limgrave lay bleached in silver. A strip of darkness rolled through the twinkling grass, the breeze causing it to dip from the moon's glow for just a moment. The leaves in the trees whispered with the wind. It was a beautiful evening in the Lands Between. Peaceful, serene, almost silent... and so very dreary. Lýkos cast a critical glance over her surroundings, taking it all in. The crags that almost obscured the Bridge of Sacrifice, a vivid pearl-grey where the moonlight caught them and dramatic shadow where it didn't. The distant shimmer of Agheel Lake. The indistinct smudge spanning the horizon, which Lýkos knew to be the canopy of the Mistwood. What a dull country this had proved to be. The half-wolf didn't trust it one bit. What had been her purpose in returning to the Lands Between? Why did Grace beckon to her and her fellow Tarnished to cross the fog? The call had been one of home, a home that she had never known since her greatest failure. But what now? The air here, cool and clean and crisp, did not taste like any home. These hushed and sleepy vales were not for her. So much of her life had been spent in battle that she struggled with the reality of peace. There was no threat, little challenge to her beyond the occasional frustration of architecture made for creatures a mere six feet high. There was no reason to stay in Limgrave much longer; no purpose of any merit was to be found here. Perhaps eastward, in the Caelid Wilds, she would find something more. Or maybe beyond the fortress known as Stormveil.

Grace had sent her a poor invitation, but at least it was a gracious host. Specks of gold glowed all over the land, welcoming any Tarnished in need of rest. Lýkos had learnt that these shining spots - these Sites of Grace, as fellow Tarnished called them - would mask her presence. Not even a campfire built here would bring light or heat to anyone but her, if she wished it. Lýkos often made use of these spots to rest. This one particular Site of Grace drew her in most often. It lay in southeast Limgrave, about halfway between Agheel Lake and the Bridge of Sacrifice, and it had all kinds of advantages. Good elevation over Limgrave, no humans around, rocky terrain she could turn to her advantage in case of an ambush, some natural shelter from the weather, and excellent hunting for wild sheep. Its biggest advantage lay glittering, black and silver, a few miles to the north. Agheel Lake was only a short walk away for someone of Lýkos' size. It was too shallow to really submerge herself in, but it served as washbasin and drinking bowl, plus it gave the occasional mouthful of fish to snack on. She knew a dragon made its lair in the lake's waters, but after that first sighting she only ever saw it at a distance as it returned to its island in the southwest. Lýkos always stuck to the outer shore, especially the east. There was no overlap of territory, and no need to fight, so the two coexisted peacefully if warily. Lýkos knew the might such creatures held, and a dragonhide cloak never escaped a dragon's notice.

As the night drew in, the shadow had ripped up a few shrubs and the occasional tree. Heaping them up, she struck a flint and started a campfire that, by human standards, might have been called a pyre. The result of a successful hunt lay to one side - a flock of sheep, dispatched as quickly and simply as picking berries off a bush. They were already skinned and the fleeces sat in a heap beside her cloak. She tossed most of the carcasses into the fire and with a good scattering of wild herbs. The savoury scent that rose from the fire made her mouth water already. If it hadn't been for the nullifying power of Grace, the aroma of mutton and herbs roasting together would have drawn in beasts and bandits from miles around. She'd left a couple of sheep raw, and she began to snack on one as she loosened off her armour.

For the most part, her armour was a mark of prestige rather than a necessity. Only things like humans had the vanity to defy nature in such a way. Nature had given them no claws, no fangs, not even a skin thick enough to protect their butter-soft flesh. Nature left them more vulnerable than cubs. Humans had to invent facsimiles of the beasts' gifts so they could commit violence against each other. No opponent but Godfrey had ever tested Lýkos' armour to its limits. The rest of the time, it was simply garb befitting of a Badlands champion. Her thick-furred hide was her true armour, and her claws her weapons - it was a poor beast who couldn't rely upon nature's gifts and had to resort to human tricks. She'd seen little in Limgrave that would challenge her beyond her own innate abilities. Besides, Grace cloaked her, and she meant to sleep comfortably. And so she let slip the thick rope that held her pauldron in place and set the armour somewhere safe. Her leather gaiters, soft and supple from years of wear, were laid out over the top. Her waistcloth stayed on, as did her bracers, for they were too difficult to remove with the chains around her wrist.

Lýkos scattered the fleeces in a large patch on the ground and sprawled out on top of it. Her body formed a long arch around the fire. Its pale gold light danced across her fur as the fire warmed her. The mutton was cooking well, but not quite to her tastes yet. Lýkos gazed into the fire's depths and paid little heed to the sheep skull she chewed on. Her thoughts were far away, or perhaps her thoughts could be called 'long ago', for it was her past that she now dwelt on. Her failure. Her Empyrean, lost before they could be found. The emptiness was a hole Lýkos felt despite not knowing the shape of it. What would her Empyrean have been like? What would they have shared, except the shadow's thwarted devotion? She liked to think that her Empyrean might have been a warrior too, if they had been allowed to grow. If they hadn't been killed as a mere baby. Perhaps together they would have been the terror of the Badlands, their foes dropping like flies around them. Lýkos smiled to herself. Her mind swimming with what might have been, the urge to howl welled within her. She lifted her head, eyes closing, and let her jaw fall lax. A long, low call poured from her and filled the night with music. She was a wolf of few words, but her howl spoke volumes to those whose ears could decipher it. Lýkos had never known her Empyrean, and yet she loved them. It was this love, gentle yet powerful, and just a little wistful, that laced her song. One day, she prayed, they would be reunited. Empyrean and Shadow would be together as they should be. Her howl was a reminder across the worlds, a promise that one day Lýkos would come to them. Only two other beings beyond the true wolves would have understood its meaning. One was the human-like voice in the Mistwood that she had heard the first time she howled in the Lands Between. The other, the silent listener in far-off Dragonbarrow, she had no idea existed. To every other ear that heard it, the sound was an omen to be feared, chilling hearts and making humans clutch their ersatz weapons closer to themselves. And yet all her howl spoke of was love.

Ah, the mutton looked perfect now. A dark, shiny red, with patches of black crust forming in places. Borderline burnt by human standards. But Lýkos tore into the carcasses like the feast they were. She liked her meat tough, chewy and full of flavour. Neither a queen nor a demigod could have dined better. Within minutes she'd devoured every scrap of baked flesh, and cracked every bone for its marrow. She curled up in the pile of fleeces with an air of satisfaction and licked the grease from her lips. She'd had far worse meals, and slept in less comfort. The fire was practically out, nothing but a dull red glow that would die out in minutes among the charred firewood. But some heat still remained, and it was this heat that Lýkos basked in. She drew her dragonskin cloak over herself and let out a curl-tongued yawn. Tomorrow was another day of exploration and planning. For now, sleep beckoned. With her belly full of roasted mutton, soft fleeces under her body, and her head drowsy with dreams of a different life, it was easy to imagine that tucked away inside her curled body was a little Empyrean to protect. And so Lýkos dozed and dreamt, with one eye open as all true warriors do - a great wolf eye pointing up to the sky, a glassy reflection of the moon above.