Maidenless No Longer (Elden Ring)

With the Tarnished being so bold as to her up in his warm embrace while barely clad, there is more than enough of his skin available for her amber egg to make contact. Likewise, with him kissing her… well, needless to say, his fate is sealed. She knows not what this foolhardy Tarnished thought to accomplish, but it matters little.
 
She shall initiate the Rite of Rebirth, as she has so many times before. She shall birth the Tarnished anew and make him into one of her sweetings. He shall join the flock, becoming yet another one of her daughters and-
 
Rennala blinks, her dreamy thoughts stuttering to a halt as she beholds the Tarnished before her in all of his true glory. Part of the process of Rebirth involves her taking in everything that the one being born anew has to offer, after all. Before she can change them, before she can remake them, she must know them inside and out.
 
This is, more often than not, a trifling matter. After all, who does Rennala have to compare her sweetings to, but her own trueborn daughter, the Lunar Princess Ranni? And when compared to such a beautiful, dark moon… why, there is no comparison. Never, in all of the rebirths, has she encountered a single one among her followers who outshone her lost daughter. Indeed, to expect one to be capable of such a thing would be too much.
 
Instead, Rennala has done her best to bring them all closer to the near-perfection that was her beloved first daughter. For her new daughters to be even a fraction of what Ranni was… twas a gift, even for how imperfect the rite was.
 
Except, that… was not the case this time. The Queen of the Full Moon bears witness to this Tarnished’s true nature… and instinctively balks at the thought of rebirthing him. He is too complete, too perfect.
 
Pulling back from her lips, the Tarnished smiles down at her, almost knowingly. Unthinkingly, a single name spills forth from Rennala’s parted lips, coming out as a shaky, breathy sigh.
 
“Radagon…”
 
She knows a mere moment later that it’s not true. Even in her dream-like state, she knows better. This Tarnished is not her beloved. He is not red of hair, for one. Nor does he share his soul with a God. Indeed, the Tarnished before her is altogether far too mortal to be her lost beloved… for all that that makes his claim to perfection even more startling, even more impossible.
 
Still, the comparison is apt. Even now, the Queen of the Full Moon remembers it like it was yesterday. The day when Radagon, her beloved consort and the father of her children, gifted her with her amber egg. The Great Rune of the Unborn, as he’d called it. To celebrate his gift, they’d made sweet, sweet love to each other, and Rennala had used the amber egg for the first time, to gaze upon her beloved in all of his true, terrible glory.
 
It was confirmation of the secret he’d already told her, of course. Of the true nature of he and Queen Marika the Eternal. Two in one. Two souls and two forms occupying one point in space and time. Twas why her beloved truly had to leave her, when Godfrey was exiled. Up until that point, Queen Marika had been content to rule from afar, to let Godfrey establish his Golden Order while Radagon remained existent and was with her, and their children.
 
But when Grace left the first Elden Lord, everything changed… and Radagon left her as Marika took her place once more. They had no choice, supposedly. All Rennala knew, was that she was alone, that perfection gone from her forever, and her children… her children absent from her life, in one way, shape, or form.
 
And now, in this place, as mad as it sounded, she had rediscovered that perfection in a mortal Tarnished. Impossible. Perhaps she truly had gone as insane as they all said she was. Perhaps she’d finally fallen into lunacy, as they all proclaimed she had. And yet… and yet…
 
She refrains from following through on the Rebirth of the Tarnished before her. To… hm, to tarnish this perfection, would make her a worse monster than even she is capable of being. Rather… looking into his warm, inviting eyes, she is reminded once more of her beloved, but also not. Slowly, trembling, the Queen of the Full Moon lifts a hand from her amber egg to the Tarnished’s face, caressing his cheek.
 
“Thou art… thou art perfection manifest. I cannot birth thee anew. Do not ask it of me.”
 
The Tarnished continues to smile and silently shakes his head. Then, he leans in close and kisses her again. Rennala finds herself kissing him back. Tis tender, the kiss. Gentle. Unique in its lack of expectations, but nearly overwhelming in its invitation. To her mild surprise, she finds herself answering that invitation.
 
How long has it been, since she took a lover for herself? Too long. None could ever compare to Radagon, of course. She suspected it was one of the many reasons the scholars of the Academy turned against her and locked her away. Jealousy, of the love she and Radagon shared for one another. Envy, that they would never be able to touch her, in the way her beloved consort touched her.
 
In the way this Tarnished, here and now, was beginning to touch her. He is unassuming in his advances, but also slow and steady and altogether methodical in his approach. She… lets him have his way with her, opening herself up to what is happening here. And yet, it’s less like he’s conquering or ravishing her, and more like he’s inviting her to a stately dinner, or a ballroom dance. His every motion is designed to draw her in and beg her participation.
 
And so, she participates. As her dress is slowly but surely pulled away from her body, Rennala’s hands dip… downwards. The delicate fingers of a Queen slip under the Tarnished’s loincloth and wrap around his phallus. She gasps, her breath hitching at the size of his mast, but nevertheless, she pulls it out.
 
The Queen of the Full Moon is quite aware of their audience. Her daughters, her sweetings… all of them are watching in wide-eyed silence as they bear witness to something they’ve never seen before. With the Tarnished in their mother’s embrace, they won’t attack, of course. But with him remaining unchanged and unscathed, despite his contact with Rennala and her egg, they have drifted closer, curiosity filling their wide eyes, and a voracious hunger for knowledge and understanding pulsing from their gazes.
 
Her imperfect daughters are so very frail and weak, but they do try their best. And so Rennala breaks away from the kiss between her and the Tarnished once more to call out to them, her voice husky and throaty in its tenor.
 
“Come, my sweetings! W-Watch as your Queen is born anew!”
 
In the meantime, the Tarnished is not idle in the midst of her outburst. Her robes have been removed enough that her chest has been exposed. With his mouth free to do as it pleases, he sets it to the task of ravishing her breasts. Gasping, the Queen of the Full Moon reaches up with one hand and intwines it through the back of his head, pulling him deeper into her chest.
 
Meanwhile, her other hand remains on his mast, shifting up and down his shaft as Rennala’s eyes take on a lidded quality to them, as she slowly shakes the rust off of skills that haven’t seen use in hundreds of years. Still, tis like riding a horse. You never truly forget how to do it. And even if you fall off a hundred times, you simply get back on again, until you are steady once more.
 
She hadn’t realized just how… clouded her mind had truly become, before the Tarnished’s arrival. She’d thought herself sane enough, thought the rest of the world mad for locking her away and ignoring the truth of her knowledge… but now, Rennala begins to see the world clearly again for the first time. With a guiding beacon of perfection like the Tarnished to light the way, she has gained new perspective.
 
Her knowledge remains unchanged. The truths that she holds to her chest, that so many others refuse to believe and cannot accept, are still there. But at the same time, as she guides the Tarnished to her core, where he finds her wet and ready for him, Rennala… for the first time, the last Queen of Caria feels something akin to hope.
 
And then, she feels a lot more than that as the Tarnished and his sizable phallus push up inside of her. A breathless cry leaves the Queen’s lips, and she shudders beneath him as he takes her right there on the floor of the Great Library. Perhaps not the most comfortable place, but her voluminous robes, now pulled from her body almost entirely, make for an excellent blanket for them to lay upon as they lay with one another.
 
The Tarnished’s member more than fills her to the brim, and Rennala’s eyes flutter as she finds herself wondering when the last time she experienced such pleasure was. Too long. Much too long. Exulting in the feel of him within her, the Queen of the Full Moon gasps and moans, her voice carrying over the library… and soon joined by many others.
 
Eyes opening once more, Rennala looks around… and flushes a little bit in embarrassment. Her sweetings have no shame. None whatsoever. They are… imperfect beings, one and all. Still, they’ve always had melodic voices, and so she taught those among them who had a knack for such a thing to sing. This had twofold purpose. One, there was the obvious benefit of having them able to sing a ward of protection for her. But two… she simply enjoyed hearing her sweetings sing.
 
Well, they’re certainly singing now as well… each in their own way. Laid out on the ground all around their mother and the Tarnished, Queen Rennala’s sweetings have disappeared their hands into their scholar’s robes, and from their humping and shifting movements as they lay sprawled upon the floor, tis obvious what they are doing to themselves. Indeed, the mewling moans and whimpers and whines coming from their parted lips is also a clear indicator of exactly what’s happening.
 
Rennala can only let out another breathless sigh, as the Tarnished’s thick phallus continues to thrust inside of her with increasing reckless abandon. Not that she minds. Her insides are wet… even wetter then when they started. Her own pleasure increases with every shift and every move of his mast within her. The Queen of the Full Moon can only arch her back and cry out in an ugly manner as the Tarnished, perfection made manifest, brings her to sweet, sweet release.
 
Tis as she told her sweetings in a fit of pique… this is her rebirth. She is born anew, upon this Tarnished’s perfect member. Eyes fluttering, half-rolling back in her head, tongue sticking out from between her lips just so, the last Queen of Caria loses herself in the pleasure, until finally… she feels him fill her with his seed.
 
Not since Radagon, has Rennala been so filled. Not since her beloved consort’s departure, has she been so satisfied. Not since the nights that saw the births of each of her three children, has Rennala felt so complete, so… herself. Shuddering, she lays back on the bunched up robes turned blanket beneath herself and rests.
 
The Tarnished, however, does not join her as she’s expecting him to. He does not lay his head on her bosom. Instead, as his phallus slips free of her sex, his hands leave her thighs. Blinking owlishly, Rennala looks up… in time to see her sweetings all clamoring to pull on the Tarnished, moaning red faces surrounding him as they guide his hands towards their own bodies, sliding his arms down their fronts and his digits betwixt their thighs.
 
At the same time, more of her daughters conceal his mast from view, their heads covering it up as they take it upon themselves to… clean him up. Or at least, that’s what Rennala assumes they’re doing, initially.
 
The Queen of the Full Moon can only flush at the uncouth behavior, once she hears the lurid sucking noises coming from her sweetings as they REALLY get their mouths on his member.
 
It would be… unbecoming of a member of the Carian Royal Family to EVER use their mouth in such a way, of course. And by one path of logic, it could be said that all of her sweetings were technically Princesses of the Royal Family of Caria. But by another, more sensible path of logic, this was not true. Her daughters, imperfect as they were, were bastard get at best.
 
As such… as such, wasn’t it fine, if she let them let loose, just a little bit? She just… she just needed to spend a moment recovering. The Tarnished, perfect as he is, can handle her girls while she does so. Yes… from the look of things, he’s going to be able to handle them quite well.
 
Breathing slowly, Rennala… lets her hands wander over her own body. Tis not something the Queen of the Full Moon would normally do; she was not one to rely upon self-pleasure very much. But watching the Tarnished and her sweetings, Rennala can’t help herself. This is… this is good. This is right. Ah, if only her trueborn daughter were here to see this. Ranni…
 
-x-X-x-
 
Elsewhere, a doll watches over her mother. In death, she could not be there for Queen Rennala as she had been in life. Though it pained her much, Lunar Princess Ranni died the same night as Godwyn the Golden. Hers was a death of body, leading to her existence in this doll form. His was a death of soul, leading to his new existence as the Prince of Death.
 
Ranni the Witch could not go to her ailing mother, no matter how much she might have wanted to. All she could do was watch over Rennala from the shadows and do her level best to safeguard here where possible. She’d been ready to do so, when this Tarnished made himself known. But… the opportunity to support her mother from the shadows had never come.
 
Instead, things had taken quite the turn, down a path that Ranni could not support… nor bear to watch any longer. As the lecherous Tarnished finishes up with her mother’s surrogate daughters and returns to the Queen of the Full Moon’s warm embrace, Ranni the Witch turns her attention away from the scene entirely. Her mother was safe, and that was ALL that mattered…
 
-x-X-x-
 
Another watching over the scene in her nearby discorporate form couldn’t possibly feel the same way. Twas far past time that she had a TALK with her Tarnished.

-x-X-x-

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