Maidenless No Longer (Elden Ring)

She tackles him to the ground, straddles him… and kisses him furiously. What else CAN she do? Of course, a moment later, her mind catches up with her actions and Millicent is immediately self-conscious. Sure, he’s cured her of the rot… but that doesn’t mean he wants her to take s-such liberties with him!
 
Traumatized though she might be from the endless stream of Preserving Boluses that he’d forced her to swallow, Millicent is also eternally grateful. It’d worked… it’d actually worked! She was cured. Not just temporarily made healthy again, like the needle had done, but outright cured. The Scarlet Rot has been torn out at the root. In fact, that had taken place about an hour ago. The final hour of boluses had been to make sure the last of it left her system, inoculating her against the rot until it could all wash away into the stream of running water and leave them behind.
 
Still, that doesn’t give her the right to just… assault her Tarnished in this way. He’d saved her, and this was how she repaid him? Blushing furiously, the red head rears back, moving to climb off of him and let her savior up.
 
“S-Sorry. I-!”
 
Her attempt at profuse apologizing is cut off, subsequently, by two things. One, his hands fall upon her hips and hold her steady, leaving her still straddling his body, kneeling on either side of his waist. Their crotches scandalously rub together, even if there is armor and leather and cloth all between their skin.
 
Two, he catches her with his eyes, and Millicent’s voice catches in her throat as she sees the fond, approving smile on his face. She knows in that moment… he doesn’t mind one bit. More than that, he’s as happy for her as she is. He’s thrilled, just as she’s thrilled. He shares her ecstasy with her.
 
… Millicent rapidly reverses course yet again. Rather than try to pull away, rather than try to apologize, she surges forward and plants her lips upon the Tarnished’s lips once more. This time around, she doesn’t lock up and freeze either. She kisses him harshly, only for the kiss to rapidly turn into something more meaningful, something almost soft, but also deep and passionate.
 
One of his hands comes up and takes hold of her ponytail, and he’s kissing her back. She doesn’t mind. It’s only right that he control the tempo, just as he’s controlled everything else. This man… this Tarnished had come into her life like a whirlwind, upending everything she’d known and dragging her into the adventure of a lifetime without even so much as a ‘by your leave’.
 
When you put it like that, one might think Millicent had cause to be upset, that she had grievances to redress with this Tarnished. But that couldn’t be further from the truth. He was her savior. He was her everything. The Lands Between were a harsh and unforgiving place. The sort of place where you could be forced to kill your own sisters, and the very next moment find yourself about to make love to the man who helped you do it.
 
Millicent does freeze up then, as that seemingly innocuous, stray thought crosses her mind. Was she about to make love to her Tarnished? Was that what was about to happen? Her eyes open wide, and she stares into his own for a moment as their lips remain locked together. Then… the one-armed swordswoman bursts into motion once more.
 
She can’t stop herself. In a frenzied, fast-paced bit of mania, she works off the Tarnished’s armor, removing her own garments at the same time. She needs to be naked; she needs HIM to be naked as well. She wants him inside of her so badly that it hurts, that she just might die if she doesn’t get it. The overwhelming amount of Preserving Boluses might have been the cure, but he… he would be her continuing remedy to all the other things that ailed her.
 
As soon as his haft is freed from its confines, as soon as his secondary ‘sword’ is once more ‘unsheathed’, Millicent quickly wraps her hand around it. Her flesh and blood hand, that is. She takes ahold of his shaft and shivers, gazing into his eyes, even as she strokes it up and down. He’s warm… and big. He feels good, in her hand. But not as good as he’ll feel inside of her.
 
She’s wet and ready for him already, but still, she hesitates to just… do it. She’s taken many liberties at this point. And suddenly, she’s feeling rather shy. Whimpering, Millicent grinds herself against his inner thigh, her sex mere inches from his twitching member. She bites her lower lip and looks into his eyes.
 
“P-Please…”
 
Luckily, her savior understands what she cannot put into words. Luckily, he is in control… as ever. His hands come to her hips, and grip down firmly. Millicent takes in a sharp breath, as he lifts her up into the air a few inches, and deposits her just over the large, bulbous tip of his member. She feels him push up against the slit of her sex, and shivers as she holds him steady, her hand wrapped around his girth even now.
 
Then… then, he slowly begins to pull her down. It is… inevitable. The red head moans, her naked body all a-tremble, as she feels inch after inch of his throbbing sword skewer her, pushing up inside of her. She is virginal. She’s lived with the rot for longer than she can remember, and never had a chance to experience anything of this nature before.
 
But in a way, Millicent is glad for it. All the suffering she’s been through, all the pain and agony… at the very least, she can say it led her to this moment. She’d gone beyond being able to live as her own person with the Tarnished’s help. She was going to survive this. But she refused to merely survive any longer. If she was going to live on past what she thought was her expiration date… Millicent would accept no less than thriving. And she would do it… at her Tarnished’s side.
 
It's then that the first inklings begin to stir within her breast at what she must do, but in the moment, they are mere whispers. In the moment, she focuses on the matter at hand, as does her savior. More and more of his thick, throbbing sword pushes up into her, sheathing itself inside of her inch by inch. It feels… amazing. He doesn’t go too fast, and Millicent… Millicent’s core is dripping with need, making the passage all the smoother as he pushes up into her deeper and deeper by the moment.
 
Her hand eventually has to leave his haft. It’s in the way, and frankly, Millicent wants to go further. Instead, she moves her hands both to his chest, running them over the… frankly horrific scarring that she finds there. Is she alarmed, to see such burns on her Tarnished’s torso, wrapping all the way around to his back? Millicent would be lying if she said no.
 
But he seems unhurt in the moment at least. He seems all too content, all too happy, and that happiness is infectious, especially when she’s feeling just as much happiness on her own. He saved her… he actually well and truly saved her. Letting out a laugh of incredulity and disbelief, she leans in and plants her lips back on his once more.

They kiss, as she sinks ever further down his mast, until finally her lower lips touch the base of his shaft, the hilt of his sword. He’s so deep inside of her. He fills her up so nicely. She can… she can only hope that she brings him the same pleasure in turn. For what feels like an eternity, they lay there, her impaled upon his member and him beneath her, holding her close as they kiss heatedly.
 
Eventually though, when she comes up for air, Millicent licks her lips and stares at her Tarnished with lidded eyes.
 
“I-If it pleases you… I would like to try moving now.”

Putting action to her words, Millicent slowly begins to lift herself up… and then drop herself back down. He fills her up so nicely, but the movement… the movement makes it even better. And to her absolute glee, her Tarnished seems to agree, even gracing her with the rare groan as she rides him, as she hilts his sword inside of her again and again.
 
One might worry about the wear and tear of the ‘sheath’, given the speed she’s beginning to move at… but Millicent does not. Her eyes flutter, and her moans become more and more breathless and fluttering, as she gives of herself to him. This body of hers… it belongs to her savior. Without his direct interference, she would be nothing but just another mound of rot by now. She would not even be recognizable.
 
It was only thanks to him that she could enjoy this pleasure… and so she would dedicate her life to him. Yes, there was no other option. No worthier cause. Her existence was his to do with as he pleased. And she would do everything in her power, no matter the cost, to please him with this body of hers.
 
Heart pounding in her chest, Millicent arches her back as she lets out a wanton moan. Shuddering, she looks down at her Tarnished and licks her lips.
 
“M-My breasts… d-do you like them? W-Would you care… to partake of them, Brave Tarnished?”
 
He smiles at her, and casually reaches up to place a hand on one half of her bosom. His other hand remains on her hip, anchoring her to him, but Millicent does not mind. As she rides him, harder, faster, the added pleasure of him playing with one of her breasts has the red head quivering in glee and bliss.
 
The rot had presented itself across her body in a number of areas. With how wide the spread was, Millicent had stopped considering herself beautiful long ago. The white splotches of infection had been on her face, on her neck, on her chest… all across her body. She was diseased, an infected thing that’s only ‘beauty’ was in the eyes of those monsters who had sought to guard her at the Church of the Plagued.
 
No more. The nonstop stream of boluses did its work and did it well. Even her skin had cleared up as the infection was completely eradicated from her system, root and stem. Her body is hers again. Her beauty, for what it’s worth, is hers again. Or rather… it’s her savior’s.
 
Exulting in the feel of him buried inside of her core, of him toying with her chest, of him holding her firmly as she rides him and bounces up and down upon his mast, Millicent lets her eyes grow lidded, lets them roll back a bit in her head, lets herself feel every ounce of this pleasure and know that she is… she is complete.
 
With a loud, wanton cry, she climaxes… and is answered in turn by her Tarnished a moment later. They reach their mutual heights together, and as she’s shaking and trembling her way through her own release atop his member, he is in turn filling her with his essence. How long has she fantasized about this moment? How many nights has she imagined it, despite ‘knowing’ that it would never come to pass? And yet… here it was.
 
Millicent’s back is ramrod straight for the entirety of their mutual release… and then she collapses forward, panting heavily as she finds herself laying her head upon her Tarnished’s chest. She is exhausted… completely and utterly spent. Not too much of a surprise, all things considered, but even still, she finds herself wiggling upon her savior’s member for a moment before giving up on trying to lift herself up.
 
There’s more she wants to say… but it will have to wait. The words she wishes to speak cannot be said while they are naked and abed with one another. And she would not want to slur them either, as she fears she might do with how tired she is. Instead, as her eyes begin to flutter shut and consciousness begins to leave her, Millicent focuses on saying just two words, on conveying her utmost gratitude to the man currently holding her close.
 
“Thank… you…”
 
-x-X-x-
 
After a lengthy rest, by which he stays at her side the entire time, Millicent is finally dressed once more, as is her Tarnished. No, not her Tarnished… her Lord. And in truth, now that she is well-rested, Millicent will put this off no longer.
 
“Brave Tarnished… I would pledge myself to you.”
 
He looks to her, and the moment she has his attention, Millicent drops to one knee before him, lifting up her Shamshir in her hands, holding it aloft.
 
“I, Millicent, would pledge myself as your Blade, Sir Tarnished. As Malenia before me and her brother Miquella before you, I would become your sword. I would become a vessel for your will upon this world, a weapon to be used however you see fit, be it for mercy or for judgment. In peace or in war, I would make myself whatever it is you demand of me.”
 
Lifting her head, Millicent’s eyes blaze and her jaw clenches as she stares up into his eyes.
 
“I know you seek the throne of the Elden Lord. Whether you gain it or not, whether you claim me as your Blade or not, know that you will ALWAYS be MY Lord… and I will always be yours.”
 
Even as she says this, Millicent’s heart beats wildly in her chest, awaiting his response. If he refuses her sworn oath, she will still do her best to make his Will a reality upon this world, but-
 
Before she can think further on it, he smiles at her and carefully takes her sword from her hands. Giving her a nod, he turns the Shamshir upon her, lightly resting the flat of the blade on either of her shoulders. There is no words… tis not her Lord’s way. But Millicent lets out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding, and as he hands her sword back to her, the red head rises to her feet, beaming proudly.
 
Of course, she doesn’t know his name… but she doesn’t need to know her Lord’s name. It’s simple enough, in the end.
 
“Very well then. With your blessing, from this moment on I will be known as Millicent… the Tarnished Blade.”
 
It fit all too well, did it not? She was his Blade, but while her past was in the past, she would never forget where she came from, or who pulled her up on her feet and gave her the will to live again. Yes… it felt right and had a nice ring to it as well. She would carry out her Lord’s will. She would stand by his side and be wielded as a weapon by no other save for him.
 
For she was Millicent, the Tarnished Blade, and she knew only one Master.

-x-X-x-

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