Maidenless No Longer (Elden Ring)

Irina knows she awaits the end, at this point. At first, she was scared. Terrified, even. But now? Sitting here silently on this rock, Irina is well aware that there’s nothing she can do but wait to be found… one way or another. Her protectors are gone, and she knows not where she is. Her father had her sent away from Castle Morne, but their caravan was attacked on the road.
 
The last thing Irina had heard was one of her father’s men, crying out for her to run. The way his voice cut off in a gurgle a moment later, the way she heard not another word pass from his lips… it didn’t bear thinking about. She’d run, fleeing the attack, and so far, she hadn’t been discovered. But at this point, Irina knew it was only a matter of time.
 
She couldn’t even say how far from the road she’d gotten, before she stumbled upon this rock and had to sit down. She was sure she’d nearly broken a bone, falling over it, but now she sat quietly, with her hands in her lap. Her surroundings were too silent, too bereft of sound. There was no one but her around, but she was sure that couldn’t remain true forever. She would be found. It was only a matter of who found her.
 
The sudden clopping of hooves against the road causes Irina to perk up. A rider! The servants at Castle Morne… she didn’t think they ever rode horses. Some of them could fly, from what she dimly recalled. But horses… no, that wasn’t something they were keen on, the servants who had rebelled over at the castle.
 
As the sound of hooves grows closer, Irina gathers her strength, intending to call out as loud as she can before the rider slips past. She’s not sure how visible she is on this rock… she might have to stand and move towards the rider, towards the road, if she wants to be seen. But before she can truly call out, the sound of hooves suddenly slows to a stop nearby… and the sound of plated boots crunching in the dirt hits her ears.
 
Irina does her best not to flinch. They haven’t spoken yet, this new arrival. She thinks if they were one of her father’s men, they would have said something by now. As well… she’s not entirely sure that she didn’t get turned around at one point, but she thinks they came in the opposite direction of the Castle. Or so she thinks, anyways… she could be very wrong.
 
“H-Hello? Is somebody there?”
 
The rider walks forward, his boots continuing to crunch before ultimately, he stops in front of her. Still, he says not a word. Irina trembles and wrings her hands in her lap.
 
“Might… might I bend your ear for a moment, please?”
 
She doesn’t want to be a bother. She’s already such a burden, and she knows it. She flinches, when the man suddenly enters her personal space. She may not be able to see him, weak as her eyesight is, but she can feel his presence, distinct and almost overwhelming. Only almost, because rather than looming above her from inches away, he drops to a knee before her, and reaches out to gently rest a gloved, plated hand atop her own.
 
Warmth radiates from him, and somehow Irina just knows he’s happy to hear her out. And so, the words spill forth in… in something of a rush, the blind young woman trying to get it all out as fast as possible to avoid angering this strange traveler.
 
“M-My name is Irina. I’ve escaped from Castle Morne, to the south. The… the servants there have rebelled, you see.”
 
She bites her lower lip, worried about oversharing but also worried about not sharing enough. In the end, with a shuddering breath, she decides to give as much as she can.
 
“I-I can’t be sure what it is, exactly… my eyesight’s been weak since birth you see. B-But I swear, I heard frightful howling from all over!”
 
In her slightly risen tone and panic, this mysterious stranger does not grab her and shake her, or growl angrily at her, or rebuke her. Instead, his other hand comes up. He takes each of her hands in both of his and rubs soothing circles with his gloved thumbs into the backs of them. Irina’s shaking slowly abates, and though she whimpers, it’s a whimper of relief… like a pressure is being released from her through his actions.
 
“… My good father secreted me out of the castle, but in turn decided himself to say. He says… he says it’s his duty, as commander. He said he couldn’t come with me j-just yet.”
 
Irina squeezes her unseeing eyes tightly shut as water pinpricks at them. She will not cry. She must not cry. Not before she gets her request out. There’s a letter, on her person. Not one written recently, but back at the castle, carefully and slowly, to make sure it was just right. When she’d found out that her father was staying while she would be forced to go, she’d began writing it.
 
She’d intended to leave it for him in a place he would find it, but then… but then things had changed more rapidly than any had foreseen, and she’d been bustled out of the castle and onto a wagon with the letter still on her person. She needed to get it to him. She needed him to know how much she cared, how much she loved him. And she knew, within her heart of hearts, that this stranger was her only hope.
 
“I… I fear for father’s life, good sir. The servants are full of wrath. Filled with hatred for every last one of us, you see. They’ve since come for every one of the companions I escaped with. They haven’t spared a soul.”
 
Irina whimpers and tucks her chin into her chest for a moment to contain the tears threatening to spill forth.
 
“I f-fear it’s not any different at Castle Morne… p-please! I implore you, take this letter to my father, at the castle. Let him know my sole wish is that he escape, even if his honor need be the price! Please… I just want him to be safe…”
 
Pulling her hands free of his and taking the letter out from her skirts, Irina holds it out in one trembling hand in the direction she knows the armored stranger is. Her breath catches as she waits to see what he will do. When his hand comes up… and gently pushes hers down, Irina’s heart sticks in her throat, and she feels a crushing sort of despair as she hangs her head.
 
“O-Of course. I understand. It’s out of the way and-!”
 
Abruptly, she finds herself pulled off of the rock and onto her feet. Sightless eyes widen, as she teeters back and forth for a moment before finding her footing. The blind woman had been sat on that rock, waiting for the end, for who knows how long. Certainly not her. Before her, she can feel the man turning away from her… and crouching down in front of her?
 
“I don’t… I don’t quite understand. W-What do you want from me, good sir?”
 
Still, he does not speak. Rather, instead Irina finds herself yelping as she’s suddenly scooped up. Still clutching her letter to her father in one hand, the young woman nevertheless instinctively throws her arms forward, around the neck of the armored man who’s come across her. To her great shock, she finds herself clinging to his back, held aloft by his hands as they reach back and circle around her legs, gripping at her thighs.
 
… It’s a very intimate grip he has of her, even as she clings to his back for dear life. A blind woman with her feet off the ground? She’s never been more out of sorts. This is… this is hard, and she can’t help but whimper, even as the man shifts from foot to foot as if getting used to her weight.
 
“What is the m-meaning of this, sir? You want… you wish to t-take me with you? I’m not entirely sure it’s s-safe. The servants… they are a rowdy bunch. Violent and… and just awful. P-Perhaps it would be better if I just stayed here, while you delivered my letter.”

 
Deep in her heart of hearts, Irina knew this place was no safer than returning to Castle Morne. She didn’t know how far she’d run from the ambush of the caravan, but she was sure, blind that she was and stumbling through the woods down the road, it hadn’t been far enough. At the same time, the thought of returning to Castle Morne on the back of this armored stranger was terrifying and exhilarating in equal measure.
 
On the one hand, she wanted to be with her father again. She wanted to hear his voice and speak to him. On the other hand… the Castle couldn’t possibly be safe. Or her father would have already come for her, r-right?
 
This is all to say, when the armored stranger first begins to relax his hold on her thighs, Irina assumes he’s agreeing with her, and lets out a relieved sigh as she begins to unwind herself from his neck, preparing to drop down to the ground once more and already trying to anticipate the impact despite her inability to see.
 
However, before she can do so, his hands are back on her thighs, stronger than ever and with an almost reproachful nature to them. He DOESN’T want her to let go, she quickly realizes. More than that, as he slides a hand down her leg, he moves one of her feet forward, and to Irina’s surprise, it slots into something that feels like… like a stirrup of some kind?
 
The blind girl’s brow furrows, as he repeats the move with her other foot and she finds herself, while not completely locked in, far more secure in her footing, so to speak, then previously. This time when his hands leave her thighs, she doesn’t try to get down. She stays latched onto his back, too afraid to let go as she clings to him, her arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders.
 
He pats her hands reassuringly, even though Irina knows her knuckles must be stark white right now from how hard she’s holding on. And then… he moves.
 
Irina can only yelp and hold on for dear life, as the man somehow flies up into the air, and ends up sat upon a horse a moment later. The insanity is not lost on her, even as blind as she is. He… he’s quite literally riding a horse, while she’s riding him.
 
“IF YOU HAD A HORSE ALL ALONG, WHY AM I NOT JUST RIDING IT WITH YOU?!”
 
Her screamed words are completely lost, over the rushing wind as they suddenly begin galloping down the road, presumably towards Castle Morne. Irina has always been a quiet girl, not really one to raise her voice… but the utter absurdity of this situation, with her feet in stirrups that are attached to the man’s armor, while his feet are presumably in stirrups attached to the horse’s saddle, is galling for her.
 
She just wanted him to deliver a letter to her father! This… this was ridiculous!
 
And things don’t get better, either. She hears them… the chittering, inhuman cries of the servants as she and her mysterious rider (and now mount?) fly past them. They must be moving past the attack on the road, the one where her last protectors were slaughtered. Irina can do nothing but whimper and more tightly press herself into the man’s back, as they go. And go they do.
 
His horse is fast, if nothing else. The wind buffets them both, but she hears them, the arrows flying at them. None manage to hit; none manage to land. The horse nimbly dodges or outruns every last one of them. Eventually, the arrow fire stops and for a time, they’re just galloping down the road at a more reasonable pace, all their enemies lost in the dust behind them.
 
Until-
 
WHAM!
 
Irina shrieks and near jumps out of her skin, as the rider and his horse jump nimbly out of the way of what sounds like a truly massive impact right beside them.
 
WHAM!
 
A moment later, it happens again, with them once more dodging. Irina’s sightless eyes alternate between being wide with fright and screwed shut in fear as she waits for the end. This is it. This has to be it. She’s going to die. She’s going to-
 
Suddenly, the horse is gone and the man she’s riding upon is landing on his feet. All she hears, is the sound of something very heavy and metallic slicing against stone. Then, there’s a large keening noise, and-
 
KABOOM!
 
The sound of something truly heavy falling over behind them shakes an already shaken Irina to her core. Trembling now, she can’t do much else as they… as they enter Castle Morne. She recognizes that they’ve arrived, feels it when they cross through the front gate. Blind she might be, but Castle Morne has been her home all her life. She recognizes this much, at least.
 
She also recognizes the chittering, angry noises of the rebelling servants as they notice her and her mysterious stranger and begin to attack. As the stranger begins to fight, Irina doesn’t know what to do. At first, she assumes he’s going to let her down and tuck her away somewhere. But no, that would be the SENSIBLE thing to do. And if there’s one thing that Irina can count on this man to be, it’s the exact opposite of sensible!
 
And yet… and yet, though she anticipates death a dozen times over as he fights through the castle, it never comes for her. He protects her at every junction, defending her, even at times where he cannot fully dodge, with his own body. She FEELS the impacts of the servants’ blades through his body, feels it as he takes blows that might have torn her asunder, but barely rock them before he returns those blows with his own that are a thousandfold stronger!
 
This man, who has all but kidnapped her and brought her into danger… is the strongest warrior she’s ever known, and she’s counting even her father among that number. It feels a little like a betrayal, to think such things, but then, perhaps her father should not have made her leave him, if he didn’t want her to meet strange men and think such things about them! After all, there was the way his hands had gripped her thighs so firmly and forcefully, but not too harshly. That had made her feel… odd. Odd, but good.
 
And then suddenly…
 
“Ah, there’s a face I haven’t seen bef- What?! Irina!”
 
Her father’s voice reaches her ears, and as her mysterious stranger turns and kneels down for her to dismount, her father cuts himself off, exclaiming at her presence in surprise. Finally finding her own two feet again, Irina, shaky and stumbling, nevertheless moves in the direction of her father’s voice until she feels his familiar, strong arms wrap her in an embrace.
 
“F-Father!”
 
“Irina…”
 
She feels it, as his eyes flicker past her to the man who brought her here.
 
“Fool of a Tarnished. Why have you done this? Why have you brought her back into danger? Did you think I’d thank you for it?”
 
Silence falls, and it takes Irina no more than a second to realize the mysterious stranger, a Tarnished apparently, isn’t going to speak in his own defense. And though he’d terrified her half to death… she feels compelled to speak up for him.
 
“Father… he did the only thing he could do. The men you sent with me… all of them died. I was left alone, in the woods, at the mercy of whoever came along first. It was luck that led this Tarnished to me instead of something worse.”
 
She feels the anger drain out of her father at her words. He sighs and rests his face in her hair, breathing in her scent.
 
“I see… then, I thank you Tarnished. I’m in your debt. But even now I cannot leave yet. Even if the castle should fall, I must remain. You see-!”
 
When her father cuts himself off, Irina furrows her brow.
 
“Father?”
 
After a moment, Edgar speaks up with a tone of incredulity to his voice.
 
“He just… turned and walked away. In the midst of my words. Who does that?! And… were those stirrups, attached to his greaves?!”
 
Irina can’t help it. While the situation is no doubt dire, she lets out a little hiccup of laughter all the same, a giggle as she cuddles into her father’s chest. She is… happy. Even if she’s still waiting for the end to come, right alongside her father… at least they’ll face it together.
 
Of course, less than an hour later, her father lets out another exclamation of honest surprise.
 
“The Tarnished returns! You-! That sword-!”
 
After a moment of recovering himself, Edgar finally speaks.
 
“… We are in your debt, Tarnished. With the creature slain and the sword retrieved, I am no longer bound by duty. And thanks to you, my daughter is already safe and sound in my arms. Though… I know not where we will go next. But that is not for you to concern yourself with. You have already done enough. Once again, I thank you. And know that with my duty fulfilled, my one and only priority is Irina. I will keep her safe, no matter what.”
 
The Tarnished doesn’t reply, but Irina… Irina gets the sense that he’s probably bowing or nodding or something, and already turning to leave. Feeling her father’s hands tighten up around her, she nevertheless speaks up, calling out to the Tarnished.
 
“W-Wait!”
 
Though she cannot see, the young woman feels his attention on her all the same.
 
“T-Thank you from me as well! And… I hope we meet again, some day!”
 
In her mind’s eye, though she knows not what he even looks like, she imagines the Tarnished smiling at her. It would be a warm smile, followed by a nod. And then, he would leave. And based off of the sound of his plated boots growing softer as he walks away, that’s precisely what happens.
 
For a moment, father and daughter are silent. Then…
 
“Where will we go now, father?”
 
Edgar considers that for a moment, before coming to a decision.
 
“You hope to meet that Tarnished again, yes?”
 
After a hesitant yet energetic nod from a blushing Irina, her father chuckles.
 
“Then we will go where that is most likely to happen. We will go to Roundtable Hold.”

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