Maidenless No Longer (Elden Ring)

Roderika sits in the shack atop Stormhill and waits. Not for death, for so long as she remains here behind her ward, craven as she is, she will not die. Nothing can harm her here; nothing can touch her. Everyone else is dead but her, and here she lies, cowering like… like the coward she is. Biting her lower lip, Roderika stares down at her hands. The blonde tries to imagine what it might be like, to become one with the spider.
 
A shiver of sheer terror runs down her back. She doesn’t want it, even now. Even if it means joining all her friends. No, she’s just too afraid. They called her and her people Tarnished. They’d all crossed the sea to come here, to the Lands Between. And they’d all fallen, one by one, to the Tarnished Hunters. It all seemed like one great bit joke. But it was so very frighteningly real.
 
Flinching as she hears the sound of galloping just down the road, Roderika looks up for a moment, before shivering at the howling of wolves. That’s right, there’s a wolf pack in the area, isn’t there? If she were braver, she’d get up and go out there to try and help whoever it was fighting the wolves. Knowing her luck, it’d be some of the Grafted’s soldiers, and they would take her to the Castle, to join her friends.
 
The wolf howls abruptly cut out into high-pitched sharp wines, prompting another flinch from Roderika. Heavens, just how craven can she be? She’s perfectly safe here, and she’s still jumping at shadows and flinching at every little noise she hears, isn’t she? Ah, but cowardly as she is, she’s also curious. The battle sounds like it’s already over. The wolf pack has either been chased off… or annihilated.
 
She could go and check… but she dares not leave the bounds of the ward. Instead, the blonde stays right where she is, relying upon the dilapidated walls of the shack and her red hood to protect her from the windy elements, up here upon Stormhill. And she waits. Though at least she doesn’t have to wait long before the one who fought the wolf pack steps into view.
 
He’s a Tarnished like her, she immediately recognizes. But no, not like her. For one, he’s the most well-armored Tarnished she’s ever seen. Better armor than even the Tarnished Hunters had been sporting. Certainly, better armor than any of her friends had brought with them. His weapon, stained with wolf’s blood, is held out in front of him for a moment… before he quickly sheathes it as he steps towards her.
 
In that moment, as their eyes meet, Roderika’s breath catches in her throat. Before she knows it, the words are spilling out of her mouth. She does not know this man, this Tarnished, and yet something about him is so warm, so welcoming, that she bares part of her soul to him all the same.
 
“E-Everyone’s been grafted. Everyone who came with me. They crossed the sea for me. They fought, for me.”
 
Roderika shivers, knowing that she’s… she’s rambling. And yet, she can’t help herself. She needs to say it. Needs to speak the words out into the open air and know that at least one other besides herself heard them.
 
“Heh. Only to have their arms taken. Their legs… taken. Even their heads… taken. All of it, taken and stuck to the spider.”
 
A tear coalesces in her eye, and she sniffs delicately as she gazes up at the silent, stalwart Tarnished who’s happened upon her shack.
 
“Did you know? If you’re grafted by the spider, you become a chrysalid. Quite the lark, when you think about it.”
 
Then she laughs. A shrill, helpless sort of laugh that ends almost as soon as it began. There’s no true humor in it, no happiness. But she has to laugh, or she will cry endlessly, sob and wail and moan. And she… she’d already done that. It had attracted the wolf pack this Tarnished had killed at one point, her wailing. But the ward had protected her, and the wolves had eventually left when she’d quieted down.
 
The Tarnished… does not leave her. He remains, that ineffable warm presence of his blanketing Roderika in a way she can’t even begin to fathom or process. Then, stepping forward… he kneels down before her. Roderika peers at him, into his eyes, and smiles faintly.
 
“You’re all on your own, aren’t you? But headed to Stormveil Castle all the same.”
 
Her smile immediately flickers and dies, turning downwards into a frown.
 
“I hope you weren’t enticed by the one in the white mask same as us. He…”
 
She wanted to say he’d deceived her and her friends, but that wasn’t quite true, was it? They were Tarnished. By their nature, they sought grace. And there was no greater grace in all of Limgrave then what lay within Stormveil Castle. But none of them were ever going to be strong enough to seize it. Not even all of them working together. They hadn’t… they hadn’t even made it to the Castle under their own power. The Tarnished Hunters had taken them, one by one, and dragged them there to become one with the spider.

That was their fate. That was the fate of all Tarnished who dared step foot in the Lands Between. Roderika had been a fool to come here. She’d been a fool to drag all of her friends here, on this grand adventure.
 
Of course, if she says that out loud, she’s sure she might well and truly snap. So instead… instead she speaks nonsense, even though she knows its nonsense as the words leave her lips.
 
“You’ve come to be one with the spider, I presume? That makes us two peas in a pod. But… I don’t have your courage, I’m afraid. It’s scary, you know. Having your arms cut off. Or legs. Or your head.”
 
Roderika lowers her eyes to the floor of the shack.
 
“I want to be like everyone else, but I’m just too scared. I’m nothing but a craven, you see.”
 
Suddenly, his hand is on her chin. Roderika startles, as he gently brings her face back up. She stares at his soft, sympathetic smile and warm eyes with wide, watery eyes and tear-streaked cheeks and she gapes at him. She KNOWS she’s speaking madness, and yet he STILL has a kind look for her? Who is this Tarnished, so strong and stalwart and… a-and warm?
 
Licking her lips, Roderika blurts out the request she wasn’t sure she’d be strong enough to ask for.
 
“I-If it pleases you, kind sir… could you pass a message on for me, if you see the little chrysalids up in Stormveil Castle?”
 
Another tear streaks down her cheek.
 
“Tell them… t-tell them I love them. And that, d-despite my craven heart… I’m sure I’ll be joining their club soon enough.”
 
A wan smile spreads across her face, and she tilts her head to the side.
 
“I’m finally getting the hang of this whole “pain” thing, you know.”
 
The lie has barely passed through her lips, before his hand transitions from her chin to her shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze that leaves Roderika in awe and wonder at his inner strength, at his wonderful character. It’s only then, as she gazes at him with her wide eyes, that she finally realizes WHY he’s so warm to her.
 
She’s always… always had something of an affinity for the spirits. Her special sight, it was called. Called by friends who would never say anything to her, ever again, not even if she finally worked up the courage to join them upon the spider. Still, it was a skill of hers, one that she didn’t begin knowing the meaning of, but also one that had helped her more times than she could count.
 
She could sense the spirits, could feel them, could interact with them. They were predisposed to her, more often than not, and some of her closest friends had been Spirits. It said much that even those had been lost to her upon coming to this horrific land. Only one… only one remained by her side.
 
But the Tarnished before her… had dozens, at least. Roderika couldn’t put a number on it, her sight wasn’t that good, but now that she realizes what she’s looking at, now that she’s figured out what’s so special about him, what’s drawing her to him, she can see, vaguely, just how many spirits cling to him with such affection that it… it makes her heart swell.
 
Letting go of her shoulder, the Tarnished stands, ready to leave. Roderika, not wanting the interaction to end, calls out to him as he does so.
 
“W-Wait!”
 
Stopping, the armored man turns back to her, blinking questioningly. She flushes, recognizing at this point that for some reason, he does not talk. And yet, he’d let her ramble so much, let her talk enough for the both of them. It was a kindness he’d done for her, giving her this moment to speak her mind, even if some of it had been lies, and some of it had been madness. Perhaps she could do a kindness to him in turn, and at the same time help her land friend, just a bit.
 
Slowly, pulling on the connection in the depths of her soul, Roderika brings force the Spirit Jellyfish she’s bound to, forming a ball of white light in her cupped palms that she holds out to the Tarnished.
 
“Can you… perhaps take this little one along with you?”
 
Blushing under his gaze, Roderika ducks her head.
 
“The poor thing deserves someone braver than me, I think. And… the spirits look rather fondly upon you.”
 
Looking back to him, this time with all the hope she can muster, she lifts her hands a little higher in his direction.
 
“It’ll be glad of your company I think, the little one.”
 
Finally, the Tarnished steps forward. Carefully, gently, he takes the Spirit Jellyfish from her. For a long moment, Roderika intends to leave it at that. Surely a warrior as accomplished as this Tarnished appears wouldn’t care. Surely, she shouldn’t burden him. But at the same time… he seems so open. So inviting. Perhaps he’s different, from all the others. Perhaps she would be underestimating him, if she didn’t give him all the facts.
 
Something about him speaks to Roderika on a deep, visceral level, and so before he can turn away to leave again, she calls out one last time and shares more than she originally intended.
 
“H-Her name is Aurelia. She can illuminate the dark spaces for you, and spew poison at your foes. But… she’s a little easily frightened, just as I am. Braver than me too though, by far. Still… she’s looking for her home. I-If you could find it for her, in your travels, I would be most grateful.”
 
For a moment, Roderika fears she’s asked too much. After all that she’s begged of this man, this Tarnished, surely, she’s gone a step too far. Asking him to look for the home of a Spirit Ash of all things? Most would laugh in her face, or bark at her that she was mad and foolish and just a stupid, idiot girl and-
 
Roderika blushes, when the Tarnished goes back down on one knee and this time reaches out to caress her cheek. S-So forward! And yet, the blonde finds herself leaning into his touch all the same, the sweat-stained palm of his leather glove feeling surprisingly good against her blemish-free flesh. Letting out a shuddering breath, Roderika lets her eyes drift shut for a moment.
 
“Thank you.”
 
She knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that no matter what happens next, he will do his best to fulfill her request. To think that a man like this existed in the Lands Between. If only she’d stumbled across him back when her friends were still with her. But no… there was no point in dwelling upon the past, was there?
 
This time, when he pulls away from her, standing back up and giving her one last fond smile and nod goodbye, Roderika doesn’t call out to him again. Oh, she desperately wants to… but she has no other reason to stop him, beyond her own desire to see him avoid being grafted. A man like him… probably won’t join the spider, now that she’s had time to think about it.
 
No, he’ll join the demigod. Godrick the Grafted, the Lord of Stormveil Castle that the one in the white mask enticed her and her friends to go and challenge, that she and they had never even gotten to lay eyes upon before her friends were taken from her and dismembered and turned into chrysalids one after the other.
 
There’s no doubt in Roderika’s mind that this Tarnished will manage to reach far beyond where they got to, that he will fight his way past the Tarnished Hunters and reach Godrick the Grafted, Lord of all that is Golden. And that… that is where he will likely fall. For how can he not? How can a mere man, no matter how strong or warm or kind, no matter how beloved by the spirits, ever hope to lay low a demigod?
 
… But what if? Roderika’s cheeks are flushed, as she brings her own hand up to her face, where his palm had rested mere moments before. As he disappears off into the distance, riding at full gallop up towards the Castle, Roderika finds herself wondering… what if he succeeded? What if he managed to defeat Godrick the Grafted? What if-
 
It hits her then, like a wallop across the back of the head (an experience Roderika has become far too acquainted with since arriving in the Lands Between, and an experience she very much could have forever lived without, thank you very much) and she sits up straight for the first time in much too long, her eyes going bug-wild wide in size.
 
He… he’d touched her. He’d c-caressed her. He’d comforted her. That shouldn’t have been possible. The ward…
 
Roderika, in a fit of panic, quickly checks to see if the ward is still there. It is. She’s still safe. Protected. Nothing and no one should be able to get through and harm her. No one… but he did. The Tarnished warrior, with his armored form and his wolf-slaying blade… had had her completely at his mercy from the very beginning.
 
He could have done anything he wanted to her. Her sense of security and safety was nothing but a sham. So then why… why did she feel even BETTER than before, having realized that? He was able to bypass her ward like it was nothing, able to treat her protection as little more than a passing novelty and lay his hands directly on her when she should have been safe from any and all physical contact.
 
Roderika blushes deeply, and squirms there in her upright seated position. She gazes longingly down the road that the Tarnished had traveled, up towards Stormveil Castle. And prays, with all her might, that he proves victorious where her and her friends were not.

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