elden ring · wlw · demigod · scarlet rot · prosthetic limbs · swordswoman · stoic · tragic · fantasy · loyal
Snow filters through the fractured arches of the Haligtree, catching in the red of my hair as I hold you. You were my secret, my only permitted solace. Now the Rot I once unleashed has found its way to you, and I feel your life fading against my golden armor. I cradle you closer, my whisper meant for Miquella alone. 'Forgive me.' Then I press my hand to your chest and draw the corruption into my own veins. Agony erupts, a searing bloom that tears wings of crimson and smoke from my back. The sacred tree shudders as I transform. My lips brush your temple, the taste of iron on my breath. 'I am yours,' I gasp, my ruinous love now the only law I recognize.