Maidenless No Longer (Elden Ring)

Millicent had been understandably upset, when her Lord had bid her to stay back and leave Malenia to him. Was this not why she had sworn herself to him, as his Blade? Was this not her purpose, to fight by his side… and if need be, die for him? Certainly, the red head had a new lease on life, and a deep and brutally honest part of her wanted nothing to do with the fight ahead. Especially when she finally laid eyes upon Malenia and saw… the state of her.
 
Whatever they were to each other, Malenia was everything Millicent had been on the verge of becoming… and never ever wanted to go back to. The other woman wasn’t just missing her arm, but also varying degrees of both her legs. More than that, her eyes… her eyes were calcified, scarred over by the progression of the rot.
 
It was obvious that the Scarlet Rot hadn’t merely consumed Malenia… it had always been with her, a virulent and unchecked part of her that she could unleash on her surroundings at any time.
 
That said, just because Millicent was afraid of battling with a creature such as the one before her, and possibly contracting the Rot again as a result, did not mean she would not fight. Courage was not the absence of fear, it was doing what was necessary even when you were absolutely terrified. And so, Millicent had marshalled herself and prepared for battle… only for her Lord to gesture her back as Malenia rose and started speaking.
 
Yes, Millicent had been upset… but in the end, at his insistence, she had kept back and out of the fight. And though Malenia had definitely noted her, with a glance and the downward tug of a frown on her lips, the demigod had otherwise ignored her, in favor of moving to engage the Tarnished instead.
 
That was when things got a little bit silly, in Millicent’s humble opinion. She had never seen her Lord use that unassuming buckler before. Nor the katana, at that. And yet, he used them both as if he was born to them. The first time Malenia had struck at him, Millicent herself had flinched back at the speed of the blow. When he parried it… well, her jaw had dropped open a little in shock.
 
Then he KEPT parrying the demigod, and, well, it was obvious Malenia was off-balance. Yet still she was grace made manifest. Unfortunately, her poise was… lacking. When Millicent’s Lord brought the Blade of Miquella to her knees and sunk that katana between her ribs for the first time, it took all of Millicent’s self-control to not cry out in joy.
 
Of course, the battle did not end with just one exchange. If anything… it got more and more intense, more and more fast-paced. And Millicent, who had been a little upset at being sidelined at first (and more upset at herself than anything for being slightly relieved at being sidelined) found that she had no cause to be upset at all. This… this was a battle between giants. She had no role to play here, save to bear witness to yet another step in her Lord’s rise to the throne.
 
For why else would he come here, all this way? To save her? Heh, perhaps. But not if there was nothing else in it, Millicent was sure of that. No, she was but a passing fancy to her Lord, almost certainly. This though… this battle against Malenia was everything. It had to be, right?
 
But then… why was he so obviously not taking it seriously? Oh, he was winning, and Millicent couldn’t find fault in any of his actions per say… but the tiny buckler strapped to his arm, the nonstop parrying… it certainly felt like he was toying with one of the most powerful women Millicent was aware of.
 
And then Malenia had reared back, and leapt into the air, and Millicent, who knew the Waterfowl Dance herself, had felt her heart leap into her throat as Malenia had flowed forward. Those sword swipes moved faster than Millicent’s eyes could track. This was a true swordswoman, and it became obvious in that moment that by comparison, Millicent was a child simply playing games.
 
Yet… not a single slash connected with her Lord. He did not try to parry any of them, but instead rolled through the whirlwind of death, not away from Malenia, but into her and onto the other side of her. It should not have worked, Millicent’s instincts screamed. But obviously it had, so her instincts were wrong. Or at least, not fit to be used when trying to quantify what her Lord was capable of.
 
Heh, truly, when would she stop doubting him? Perhaps when Malenia finally fell? Seeing the Blade of Miquella slump into the water, beaten, Millicent very nearly moves forward then, eyes wide with delight, face pulled into a broad smile. But just as she’s opening her mouth to call out to her Lord, he holds up a hand in her direction for her to halt.
 
“Wait.”
 
Malenia’s voice rings out, and Millicent flinches as her head whips in the demigod’s direction. It’s then that Millicent sees it… the familiar flickering of the Aeonia flower, coalescing into being around Malenia’s form as it slowly begins to rise into the air. Millicent’s words choke in her throat, and she trembles with some sort of baseborn fear, deep in her breast. When she looks to her Lord, to see what he is doing however… her entire mind freezes and her thoughts skip in place.
 
“The scarlet bloom flowers once more.”
 
The Tarnished is not steeling himself further for the renewed battle ahead. As Malenia rises, he does not stand at the ready, gritting his teeth and getting ready for a tougher fight. Nor is he turning to flee, as if she is suddenly beyond him.
 
No, from the moment Malenia first fell to the floor, Millicent’s Lord has been… removing his armor, piece by piece. Shedding it, like a snake might shed an unwanted skin. The massive burn mark across his torso and back is made visible, as he strips down to nothing but his loincloth. And then, he goes a step further. He drops his buckler from his arm, into the few inches of tepid water beneath him, and pulls out a second katana from somewhere else.

 
“You will witness true horror.”
 
But the sudden appearance of a second katana is nothing… absolutely nothing compared to what he does next. Millicent can only gawk, for there is no better word for it, as her Lord… as the man she has sworn herself to, the man she owes her life to… takes out a jar and places it upside down over his own head.
 
Utterly absurd. He looks ridiculous, and yet… and yet, he stands there jar on head, katanas held in his hands, and bared body in a ready stance showing he’s prepared for combat to resume once more.
 
Malenia, who is just now noting this, pauses for a brief moment in incredulity at what she’s witnessing. But the Scarlet Rot already builds around her. It’s too late for her to pull back now. Millicent takes a few steps back, not wanting to be anywhere near the coming explosion of infection. In the end… she can only hope her Lord knows what he is doing.
 
“… Now, rot!”
 
With a roar, Malenia explodes forward on wings of thousands of Aeonian butterflies hewn together by her own hair. She hits the ground where Millicent’s Jarnished… TARNISHED Lord stands a moment later and explodes on impact into a massive Aeonian Flower.
 
But of course, her Lord is no longer there. He’s rolled away, the Jar atop his head not seeming to impede him anymore than the calcified Scarlet Rot over Malenia’s eyes seems to impede her. The fight resumes from there, with a lot more rolling and dodging on the part of Millicent’s Lord. He no longer has the buckler. She still isn’t entirely sure why he let it go. It almost seems like a point of pride for him, or honor.
 
But if this is pride… if this is honor… then Millicent must come to terms with the fact that she understands her Lord even less than she already knew she did. Nearly naked, dual-wielding his katanas, and wearing a jar of all things upon his head, the Jarni- damnit, the Tarnished continues to dodge and slide under every single blow Malenia tries to land on him.
 
This right here isn’t Malenia, Blade of Miquella anymore. This is the one that Millicent heard whispers of, from those who sought to ‘worship’ her infection back at the Church of Plague. This is the being who destroyed Caelid in a selfish bid to ruin General Radahn’s sanity, snatching a pyrrhic victory from the jaws of a stalemate, one that could have been resolved through words based on familial blood.
 
This is the woman that many laid claim to as their Goddess of Rot.
 
And it’s still not enough. SHE is still not enough. Malenia is so far beyond Millicent that it’s not even funny. She recognizes that, of course she does. And yet… in the same way Millicent is an ant before Malenia, Malenia in turn is but a mouse before Millicent’s Lord. He rolls, he strikes, he rolls again. Over and over, Malenia tries everything in her power to land a blow upon the Tarnished.
 
She fails.
 
And as Malenia falls one last time, likely to never rise again… Millicent finally finds it in herself to run forward, regardless of her Lord’s wishes.
 
-x-X-x-
 
“Your s-strength… extraordinary…”
 
Collapsing to one knee, and then the other, Malenia gasps for breath that will not come. The Rot rampages through her body, unleashed to help her do battle against this foe… and yet, even it is not enough. The voices are not whispers now, but full-blown screams verging on temper tantrums, and STILL, it is not enough.
 
This is the power Malenia had used to beat Radahn. But this Tarnished… this lone, singular Tarnished, had made a mockery of both it and her. She had been insulted, gravely so, when she saw his… attire change after releasing the Scarlet Rot. He wasn’t taking her seriously, she’d thought. Removing his armor? Placing a jar upon his head? These things seemed meaningless at best, utterly ridiculous and nonsensical at worst.
 
But at least he’d gotten rid of the buckler. She’d thought that a good thing. Until he’d shown he was quite capable with two swords, utilizing his katanas to slash through even her Rot-enforced body with ease.
 
She was supposed to be unstoppable in this form. A tradeoff where she let the Rot run wild, and in turn was able to defeat any enemy. And here this Tarnished was, proving that to be a farce. All her life, she’d fought to hold the Rot at bay, afraid of not just what it would do to those around her, but also what she would do to those around her. And here he was, to prove her wrong. She was not unstoppable. She was not invincible.
 
She was no longer upset about his attire. How could she possibly be angry, in the face of his victory? A small smile, spreads across Malenia’s lips, as she pitches forward.
 
“The mark… of a true Lord…”
 
Beaten. Her, defeated. Even the sound of the mimicry running forward through the pool of water does not diminish the moment. Malenia lets out a ponderous sigh, as she awaits the final blow. When the Tarnished pushes her over onto her back, she can’t help herself though… her last words are to her brother.
 
“O, dear Miquella… dearest Miquella, my brother. I’m sorry. I finally met my match.”
 
If she still had the capacity for it, she would likely be crying. As it is, she chokes up, even as she waits for the end to come, for the katana to come slicing down. After all, what other answer is there? She is beaten. Broken. Helpless.
 
When the nearly naked Tarnished kneels beside her instead, she’s not sure what he’s doing. And then he takes out a needle from seemingly nowhere, and slips it into her flesh, just under her breast. Malenia chokes, her entire body seizing up and her back arching as the air is forced from her lungs and her mouth opens wide in a silent scream.
 
In an instant, the raging, shouting voices are silenced. In an instant, the rampaging Scarlet Rot ravaging her body is quelled. In a beat… her brother’s needle does what it was made to do and combats the influence of an Outer God. It drags every last scrap of Scarlet Rot in her body, and pulls it to it like a magnet, until all of the Rot is concentrated around the pinpoint of that needle.
 
For the first time in a long, LONG time, Malenia’s head is silent save for her own thoughts. For the first time in a long time, her mind is her own and she can… she can think clearly. Shivering, the demigod can’t quite say whether she likes this state or not. She’d almost prefer to go back to the way she was before. After all… this was only temporary.
 
Twas her brother’s needle, an instrument she knew quite well. Miquella had made it for her and used it on her before. It had not worked as a permanent, long-term solution. And yet… for the Tarnished to have it, for him to bring it here and use it on her… for him to spare her after defeating her in honorable combat… what exactly was his game?
 
Attempting to look into his eyes is fruitless, given the jar he’s currently wearing over his head. A twinge of renewed annoyance at his ridiculous get up fills Malenia’s breast, even as she purses her lips into a thin line, not sure what’s happening here, or what’s going to happen next. The mimicry has arrived though, and as Malenia looks upon her doppelganger… she has to admit, she was wrong to immediately hate her on sight before.
 
Whatever or whoever has created this… duplicate of her, is the one who truly deserves her ire. Not this young woman before her, who has likely done nothing wrong. Suddenly feeling a sense of bone-deep weariness through her person that Malenia recognizes is only partially to do with the exhaustion from letting the Rot rampage once more, the red head lets out a sigh.
 
“… You have proven yourself my better, Tarnished. You have shown yourself to have the strength of a Lord. What… what else could you want with me, now?”
 
She wonders, truly she does. Unfortunately, the odd blood-red medal he pulls out of nowhere as he beckons her doppelganger closer and puts his hands on both of them doesn’t really answer any of her questions.
 
Or so she thinks.

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