Maidenless No Longer (Elden Ring)

She hears about his return to Roundtable Hold in the same way everyone else does. When the nameless, mute Tarnished separates Ensha’s head from his shoulders in self-defense. Perhaps that’s why Nepheli does what she does. Perhaps that’s why she chooses not to wallow for a single moment more. The second she can, she grabs the Tarnished by his shoulders and drags him into a side room.
 
“Fuck me. I want you to make me feel it. I want everyone in this damn hold to hear me.”
 
The Demigod Killer looks at her… and sees right through her. Nepheli very nearly shies away from that look, but then he reaches out and wraps a hand around her neck, pulling her into a savage kiss. In an instant, she’s losing herself in him, and he in her in turn. Their clothes go flying, her dark flesh laid naked and bare.
 
Spun about, he bends her over a nearby cabinet. Nepheli’s hands slap down on the top of the thing, and she gasps and groans as his freed, throbbing cock slaps up against her slit from below. She’s not wet just yet, she’s had no reason to be aroused until this moment, but she’s getting there fast. Still, he doesn’t thrust in right away, clearly noting that her body needs to catch up with her heart’s desire.
 
It’s in that moment, as she feels him rubbing back and forth across her lower lips in an effort to get her juices flowing swiftly, that Nepheli lays her heart bear.
 
“My father… cast me out. F-For indulging my emotions. Forgetting the mission. Heh, punishment for offing… offing his pawns.”
 
Her fellow Tarnished doesn’t seem at all surprised. He knew then. Not just that Gideon had disowned her, but what the man had done. The Omenkiller, the cursemongers… they were sent to the Village of the Albinaurics on Sir Gideon Ofnir’s orders. And for what? What did he have to show for the massacre he’d orchestrated?
 
Yet, Nepheli hangs her head all the same, even as she clings to the cabinet. It’s impossible not to feel doubt in the depths of her soul.
 
“Father… rather, Lord Gideon has offered me guidance all my life. I w-would have done anything for him, t-to place him on the throne of the Elden Lord. And yet, I…”
 
Before she can continue, her fellow warrior’s hand wraps around and takes hold of her chin. He turns her head so she’s looking him in the eye, and even as his cockhead slips into her now wet slit, beginning to push into her inch by inch, he solemnly shakes his head. In the eyes of her fellow Tarnished, Nepheli Loux finds the conviction she was lacking. She finds the courage, the bedrock that she needs to go on. For a brief moment, she had floundered… but only for a moment.
 
“Y-You’re right. I am Nepheli Loux. Warrior. Give it to me. Let him hear me. Let the All-Knowing know this.”
 
Nodding solemnly, he seizes upon her hips, corded with a warrior’s muscle. And then he begins to thrust. Nepheli doesn’t hold anything back. Satisfaction fills her breast, as she cries out in ecstasy and pleasure. They’re in a room off to the side, bereft of people, offering a modicum of privacy all things considered… but in truth, there is no privacy when Nepheli is being THIS loud.
 
Still, she has no reason to contain herself. Propriety? What propriety? Roundtable Hold sits as a gathering of would-be thieves and murderers, hiding behind a thin veneer of honor and vaunted purpose. Nepheli could care less what any of them, including Lord Gideon, think of her. All that truly matters is the opinion of her lover, she’s come to realize.
 
And as he slams his cock into her again and again, warrior that she is… Nepheli feels right at home. Of course, they rapidly demolish the cabinet she’s bent over with their enthusiastic coupling. Even as she hollers at the top of her lungs, creaming herself upon his length again and again, they’re forced to move places, to transition from destroyed cabinet to nearby dresser. And then when that too shatters under the weight of their warriors’ joining, they end up against the wall instead.
 
The stone holds, at least. Even as her fellow Tarnished fucks her so hard that Nepheli sees stars, so hard that her legs turn to jelly, so hard that she’s confident she won’t be walking straight tomorrow, the stone holds. In the end, they fuck and fuck and fuck… and everyone in Roundtable Hold no doubt hears them.
 
Nepheli might have meant it as a sort of sweet, sick revenge against the adoptive father who cast her aside. She might have meant it as a way to show Sir Gideon Ofnir that she’d found a man better than him to put her faith and trust in. And perhaps it had that effect. She could not be sure, one way or another. The All-Knowing was the sort who kept his cards close to his chest, to be sure.
 
But Nepheli’s actions had another effect as well. Her cries, echoing throughout Roundtable Hold, drew the attention of some other maidens who called its halls their home. She called to them… and they answered, worried as they were about falling behind.
 
-x-X-x-
 
“T-Thank you, Tarnished. For agreeing to see me i-in private.”
 
Irina can’t help but blush, as she kneels in front of the Tarnished. Sat on the edge of her bed, the silent warrior has his legs spread. She knows this, because she is nestled between them, kneeling with her hot breath ghosting across his… his shaft. She knows THIS because she currently has both hands wrapped around his phallus, and is slowly sliding her smooth, soft palms up and down his length.
 
Even this much is… well, a lot for the blind girl. But she refuses to fall behind. She’d heard that… that hussy, crying out and enjoying the affections of her Tarnished. Irina didn’t begrudge them their warrior’s passion. But she couldn’t… she needed the Tarnished to know how she felt about him. And so, she’d arranged for this.
 
Her and her father had their own private room in Roundtable Hold by this point. Edgar had managed to make himself useful enough to secure them permanent accommodations. Neither of them were Tarnished, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be helpful, each in their own way. Sending her father away, telling him that she would talk to the Tarnished alone… well, Irina was sure if he hadn’t saved both their lives, Edgar would never have allowed it.
 
As it was, Irina had grown something of a mouth to her. These days, when she spoke in the right tone of voice… Edgar listened. And so, with her father’s unspoken permission, Irina was here, in her room alone with the Tarnished, kneeling before him and stroking his… his ph-phallus…
 
She wants to do more. She WILL do more. And so, leaning forward, the blind young woman opens her mouth and carefully sticks out her tongue. It takes her a moment, and the bulbous head of his member hits her nose first, but eventually she manages to drag his glans down over her upper lip, and onto her tongue.
 
Slowly, staring unseeing up at where she thinks the Tarnished’s face might be, Irina begins to swirl her tongue around the tip of her savior’s sizable member. He is… he is VERY big, and she balks at the thought of trying to handle him. But maybe… maybe this is enough? Only, she can’t settle for ‘maybes’, can she? She has to-!
 
In the moment of her increasing self-imposed panic, the Tarnished suddenly reaches out and pats her on the head. Irina blushes at the kind act, and then blushes even harder when he carefully draws one of her hands away from his mast. His fingers interlace with hers, and suddenly… suddenly he’s holding her hand, their digits locked together.
 
It is a source of immense comfort for Irina, and she moans around her Tarnished’s member, before getting back to work. It’s as if he’s saying, without speaking, that he doesn’t care what she does for him. That all he needs from her, is to be present. That he appreciates her for who she is, and that she can take her time, can take everything as slowly as she wants.
 
Irina’s sightless eyes flutter, as she falls deeper in love with this mad, strange man she can’t even see in front of her. She wants nothing more than to please him, wants nothing more than to show him her worth. Irina has no misconceptions about managing to lay solo claim upon him, of course. There are other women who have her beat out in every category, and she would be a fool to try and face them all head-on.
 
But Irina is smart. She might be blind, but that just means she has to listen all the harder. And if there’s one thing Irina has learned from the gossip of Roundtable Hold, it is this… her Tarnished has more than enough room in his heart for more than one woman. He has more than enough room in his heart for the others… AND for her.
 
And so, Irina has inserted herself into the equation. Lovingly and loyally swirling her tongue along his c-cockhead, the blind girl stakes her own claim upon the Tarnished sat before her. He would… he would not let her do this, if she did not already have a place set aside for her in his heart. All Irina had to do was make sure he KNEW she was interested.
 
The Tarnished’s grip on her hand suddenly tightens a bit, squeezing in warning. Irina doesn’t know how she knows, she’s never done anything like this before, but… she knows. Instinctively, she finds herself pulling back, just in time for her Tarnished to begin to cum. Her lips come popping off of his cock, but her tongue is still sticking hesitantly out, and his member is still pointed directly into her open maw.
 
She catches the first few spurts on her tongue, in her mouth, and the rest of the messy, sticky seed across her bosom and in her free hand, held up and cupped in order to try and keep things from getting too all over the place. To her mild surprise… the taste is not bad. In fact, she quite enjoys it. Bringing her hand to her lips, she licks at it carefully, even as her other hand remains interlocked with her Tarnished’s. He stays with her, and they continue experimenting together for a time. And Irina knows… she knows her place at his side is secured.
 
-x-X-x-
 
“I feel… I feel like I’m really coming to grips with spirit tuning of late.”
 
Roderika blushes, as the Tarnished gives her an encouraging grin. She averts her gaze for a moment but can’t help but smile in turn. It’s a little embarrassing, having this conversation with him while she also has her sizable bust wrapped around his even larger member… but when else was she to bring it up?
 
Alas, she couldn’t fall behind. She refused. Yes, she wasn’t some great warrior like Nepheli Loux… but s-she had her own value to the Tarnished, did she not?! Without her, he would not have access to spirit tuning!
 
Except… Roderika had to wonder about that. He came to her regularly for her help, but at the same time… well, she remembered just how many spirits had gathered around him, back at the shack, back when they’d first met. And that… that feeling hadn’t changed. No, rather, as her skills increased, she had an even better understanding of the power that the Spirits her Tarnished carried with him could wield.
 
Pinching her pink nipples and pulling on her pale breasts in order to more fully wrap them around her beloved’s mast, Roderika bites her lower lip for a moment, before continuing on.
 
“I-I’ve begun to understand their yearnings… what they become drawn to. Just as… just as I’ve come to understand your yearnings as well.”
 
She looks back to him finally as she says that, her gaze hooded as he grins sheepishly in response. Her Tarnished is an insatiable lecher. It had taken Roderika quite a while to realize this. He was so… heroic, when he’d first come upon her. He had bypassed the ward protecting her, just to give her a comforting touch on the shoulder.
 
He had not tried anything with her then, and yet… and yet, Roderika had come to learn that her Tarnished did not usually initiate this sort of thing. But if it was offered… he would happily accept comfort and intimacy without a second thought. It was almost embarrassing, in a way… but Roderika knew she had to keep up.
 
Even Irina, the blind woman… had made progress with the Tarnished. Roderika couldn’t possibly lose to both her and Nepheli!
 
Drooling some more saliva down into the valley created by her breasts, the blonde picks up the pace even further, looking up at her Tarnished with a bright, sunny smile.
 
“Master Hewg s-said it himself, actually. That I’m no mere apprentice any longer.”
 
Straightening up, even as she continues to use her pale bust to pleasure her beloved, Roderika licks her lips and gives him a slight nod.
 
“Once again, I’m pleased to make your acquaintance. Roderika, the certified spirit tuner.”
 
He grins at her, and gives a little fist pump, cheering silently. Roderika blushes and smiles shyly in response. Only for him to explode a moment later. Tis no other way to describe it. His seed sprays all over her, Roderika gasping and rearing back slightly, but not far enough to avoid the deluge of essence that ends up all over her.
 
Biting her lower lip, Roderika looks down at the mess he’s made of her… and lets out a breathy sigh.
 
“Ah, Tarnished. What ever am I going to do with you?”
 
She softens her words with a rueful smile directed up at him a moment later as he rubs a sheepish hand through the back of his hair… but the rueful smile is in turn somewhat diminished by his seed, dripping down off of her messy face. What was she going to do with him, indeed?
 
-x-X-x-
 
She supposed she didn’t exactly have room to complain. The Tarnished had done all she’d asked of him. From helping poor Rogier achieve his life’s work before he entered his final, eternal slumber, to giving the Weathered Dagger to D, her hunter.
 
Fia could well admit it. She had grown tired of living a lie, here in Roundtable Hold. It was time to move on. It was time for a change. And there had certainly been a change, hadn’t there?
 
The Tarnished, specifically the one she was waiting for, comes upon her and the body of D, Hunter of the Dead. As he approaches, solemn and quiet, she tenses up, ready for him to strike at her. But he does not. And so, she speaks.
 
“Finally, it is returned to its proper place. The stolen hallowbrand, of the exalted noble.”
 
Rising to her feet, she turns to the Tarnished, smiling a faint smile.
 
“And now, I must bid you goodbye as well. Though I ask you deliver this message to Roundtable Hold.”
 
As he looks on, she straightens her back, rolling her shoulders.
 
“I am Fia, Deathbed Companion. Hark, Roundtable. Disturb not the Death of Godwyn, the exalted. We, who humbly live in Death, live in waiting, to one day welcome our Lord. What right does anyone have to object? Our Lord will rise. The Lord of the many, and the meek.”
 
Sucking in a deep breath as she finishes her speech, Fia is almost gratified to see the Tarnished nodding solemnly, seemingly taking her words to heart. She had enjoyed his hugs. His vigor was second to none, and she could admit… she’d stayed at Roundtable Hold for a little while longer than was entirely smart in part to receive more of those hugs.
 
Alas, all good things came to an end, didn’t they? And for her, it was time to move on. D’s death would not go unanswered, if she tried to remain here in this place. But as a warning… perhaps, just maybe, it would be heeded.
 
Still, there is a flicker of doubt and wonder in the back of the Deathbed Companion’s mind, as she vanishes from Roundtable Hold, as she disappears from in front of the Tarnished who gave such wonderful hugs. She was not ignorant to what was happening around her. The women he’d saved, that flocked to him… that he bedded. They were numerous.
 
Why then, had he never initiated any such activities with her? Why had he only ever hugged her and let her feast upon his god-like vigor without making the expected demands in return?
 
… No matter. Twas in the past now. And it was time for Fia to look forward, to the future of her service to her Lord.

-x-X-x-

If you'd like to read more of my work not seen on this website, check out Hentai-Foundry.com and QuestionableQuesting.com where I have over a thousand stories! I'm known as 'Cambrian' on those websites.

If you'd like to contribute to funding my writing at all, check me out on Patreon.com/Cambrian

Thanks for reading!