He was alone.

That was only a half-truth; he was alone, yes, but not because there was no one else within the Erdtree with him. Before him stood – or knelt – the desecrated and stony body of Queen Marika the Eternal, her battered head just before it. Moments before, he had slain a creature borne of stars, an ancient being beyond his ken. It had shattered like glass upon the last attack, crackling away into golden dust as the world it had conjured fell apart, and left him where he had started.

The hollowed, ashen grey chamber within the Erdtree felt more like a mausoleum. And without the Bolt of Gransax by his side, he would have collapsed. Fallen to the ground upon his final and greatest accomplishment.

Yet, even with the Elden Beast slayed, even with all the sacrifices, the friends lost on the way, there still remained one more task to do.

The body of Queen Marika was broken yet, but with the Great Runes that pulsed within him, and by the Mending Rune given to him by the Goldmask, he would see a world of equals born.

"I would pray," he muttered out, holding his stomach to try and keep his organs from spilling out. "But I doubt you would hear me as you are now, my lady."

Queen Marika gave no response to his jape, not that he expected her to. He sighed, using the Bolt to steady himself as he rose to his feet. His battered and worn armor creaked and clanked with every motion he made. His actions came instinctually, almost like he had always known what to do. He stepped forward, holding his stomach closed as he stood before Marika's body. Looking down, her head laid at his feet.

Taking a deep breath, his hands held the Runes needed to repair the Elden Ring. He knelt, carefully picking up Marika's head, careful not to damage it any further. It was surprisingly light for something that felt as if it was made of hard stone. The remnants of her golden hair sprawled over his hands as he stood up, his guts barely staying in place and crying out in agony even with his slow and deliberate movements.

When he placed Marika's head atop her neck, he felt the warmth of his Runes wane, before vanishing entirely. He had expected as much; they were not his to keep. Marika's head made no motion for a moment, despite looking as if it should have fallen with his haphazard placement of it.

He lost his footing, even as he heard the sound of Marika's head 'click' into place. Bits of stone fell from her head, but she was as complete as he could make her. He fell to his knees, holding his belly even as he saw gold glimmer within Marika's torso.

The Elden Ring…

He could see it, after so long. His handiwork, his repairs. The halo of Goldmask's Rune surrounded it, with the three circles, surrounded by Rune Arcs and lines of glimmering gold. His journey had not been in vain. He could feel the Erdtree thrum with life again, like a heartbeat.

And then, he watched as she repaired herself.

Only one eye opened at first, peering eerily from her pale gold hair. He could feel her gaze upon him, and he avoided its glare. His weapon was stuck within the still singed bark of the platform, just behind him, and if Marika decided he was unworthy, then he would have no way to defend himself. Not that he would be capable of such, with his Crimson Tears gone and his body falling apart.

"Welcome back to the world of the living," he rasped.

A harsh crackling rang in his ears as he saw bits of stone spread to fill in the patchwork of her body. First came a hand, holding itself out before clenching. Next came a leg, as she slammed her foot into the ground as she rose from her knelt posture. Her body filled in, and soon, the Elden Ring was hidden beneath her stony flesh.

He looked down. As impious as he had become during the Long March and his quest for the throne, gazing upon a god as she mended herself seemed wrong.

The crackling of stone was followed by what sounded like a sewing needle being gently threaded through cloth, which in turn led to footsteps echoing through the slowly lighting chamber. What at once was the sound of solid stone striking the floor became the pitter-patter of bare feet.

Before long, Queen Marika stood before him. Her pale flesh was criss-crossed with cracks, but he dared not look up to meet her golden gaze.

"Arise, Tarnished. Thou need not kneel in my presence. Not after thine great deed."

Her voice was like a bell in his ears. He did not know what he expected; it was feminine yet held a timber to it that made his bones quake. It was the voice of a god.

"My kneeling is not from reverence, Queen Marika," he rasped, "I cannot stand."

Blood still seeped from the wound, and he doubted he would be conscious for much longer.

"A god is not so easily slain," Marika noted, her voice still reverberating inside his head. "I will bid thee rest, for the moment. Thou hast earned it. But know this; there lieth more work to do, for these still-dark days ahead. I no longer hear its calling, its orders. The Greater Will's influence hast been lifted. Banished. Thou hast slain its vassal and freed me."

His eyes fluttered, but he willed himself to keep awake. He wanted to – needed – to hear it. All of it.

Marika held her hand out, the cracks in her skin still evident.

"I proclaim thee as Elden Lord. I wouldst know thine name, for my third and final consort."

He took in a deep breath. He could not remember the last time he had been asked that. His name seemed like such a distant thing, like a sunset below a cloudy sky. Remember it he did, and he would do well to never forget, like a cherished memory.

"My name… is Gundrik," he finally gasped out. "Sir Gundrik of Leyndell, former Knight of the Dragon Cult, long since banished."

Gundrik finally looked up to stare Marika in the eye. They were golden and unending, and looking upon her face was akin to staring at the sun. Though her face still held the cracks the rest of her body shared, there was beauty through it, still unbroken by time.

"Then rest now, my Lord Gundrik. Rest, and recover thine strength. This world is freed of true gods, but there is much to do."

And, like a struggling lantern, Gundrik's light went out.

After a dreamless sleep that felt like it lasted a century, Gundrik's eyes finally opened. It only took him a moment to realize where he was.

The Queen's Bedchambers were as dusty as ever, a fact that had been true even before Leyndell had been buried under a sea of ash. The draperies hung from a ring above, barely staying in place as wind flew through the chamber. Stone tablets lined the half dish of the bed, with scroll-filled pots near the entrance. Gundrik had not paid much attention to the room when he had been through it last; too focused on moving forward, only to face down his Lord.

Lord Godfrey. First Elden Lord. Though there was no other choice, I will not let your sacrifice be in vain.

Seeing the man he had always looked up to and respected take up arms against him was one of the hardest things Gundrik had to go through. The Long March seemed like such a distant thing, and only foggy, half-faded memories of it remained, but even then he could remember Lord Godfrey along with the rest of the Tarnished, fighting through men and sandstorms and whatever the world beyond the Lands Between could throw at them. Such things only existed in Gundrik's head, what with that great Tarnished army broken and leaderless.

But he was Elden Lord, finally, whatever that meant anymore.

"O mighty dragon, Gransax, Bane of Leyndell…"

So caught up in his own nostalgic thoughts, Gundrik did not see Marika at the entrance of the chamber, looking out into the day, with the Bolt of Gransax in her right hand. She held it in front of her by the grip, touching the tip with her other hand, as if studying it. Her body was still covered in cracks, though they were far less severe than last he had seen her.

Grunting, Gundrik rose to his feet. He felt good – no, better than good. The feeling rushed to his head so fast that he nearly fell to his knees again upon stepping off the stone bed. Dust kicked up with each step he took forward.

"Such irony, that your corpse remaineth, and Leyndell's walls bear host to naught but ash," Marika's voice rang out, her golden hair flowing with the wind. She wore a dress similar to the one that Gundrik had seen depicted in her statues, though her hair was unbraided and ran wild. "Tell me, my Lord, where thou acquired a weapon such as this."

Gundrik knew Marika was aware of his approach. His armor had not been removed, not even his helmet, and dented and broken as it was, it would always signal his movement. Still, he remained silent before he stood near here, following her gaze.

Gransax's petrified corpse jutted out from the ash of Leyndell like a tombstone, with his weapon ever by his side, stabbed into the ground, shining with silver and gold as it always had.

"I whittled it down, from a simple shard," Gundrik replied, his voice raspy. "I brandished it on the Mountaintops, and it served me well for the rest of my journey."

"Such actions wouldst see thee drawn and quartered by members of the Dragon Cult," Marika replied, holding the weapon high so that the brilliance of the sun reflected off its golden trimmings. "But such trivial matters no longer concern us. These lands are born anew. Cults, religions, gods, meaningless titles. Look upon it now, the Erdtree…"

Marika turned around, and Gundrik followed her, whereupon he found himself in awe. For all he had known the Erdtree, when he gazed upon it as a child, when he showed fealty to it in his adulthood, when he glared at it when he returned, it had always been golden, always like a second sun that always shined brilliantly along the sky. When Gundrik gazed upon it, he was nearly blinded by it. The golden color was pure, untainted, as if he was looking at a sliver of the sun itself.

"It is ours, well and truly," Marika continued. "There shalt be no meddling, no destruction for the sake of dominance. Order is restored, even with the Greater Will's influence gone from this world. And when it is returned, even it cannot change this Perfect Order."

Gundrik averted his eyes after a moment, feeling as if he would go blind should he stare at it any longer.

"The Mending Rune I used, what did it do to you?" he asked.

"What dost thou mean, my Lord?"

"I was told – no, was under the assumption that even the gods cannot change it now. The Elden Ring has been… perfected. Is that right?" Gundrik pressed.

Marika stood still for a moment, before turning her gaze to Gundrik.

"Thine insinuations art noted. I am bound beneath it now, also. I cannot alter Perfect Order; there is nothing to change. I stand, two bound into one as its vessel, but I can meddle with logic no longer," Marika answered.

"I did not mean to imply that I do not trust you, Queen Marika," Gundrik replied. "I just… I admit that I do not understand as much about the Elden Ring or the Order as I wish."

Marika's eyes narrowed. "Thine suspicions are not unfounded, Lord Gundrik. 'Twas I who shattered it. 'Twas I who guided thee and thine fellows along this path. Every inhumanity, every shred of suffering caused by it is my doing, however indirectly. And should thy toils hast been met with failure, there were other ways in place to ensure that the cruelties of the previous era were not repeated."

Gundrik shrugged. "I suppose that explains Ranni, then."

Marika remained silent for a moment again. When she finally spoke, it was quieter than before.

"My children, demigods all. Tell me, how many remain?"

Gundrik took a deep breath, taking a step back and crossing his arms. "Ranni, Miquella, and Malenia. The others: Radahn, Rykard, Morgott, Mohg, Godrick, all dead."

"As I suspected. And so they fell, sacrifices. Though, I hast no recollection of this 'Godrick'. Perhaps thou meanest Godwyn?"

"Uh, no, Godrick. The insane one who was only distantly related to you and Godfrey. The one who practiced Grafting. Do you not know him?" Gundrik asked, his brows furrowed behind his helmet.

"It matters not. Ah, before I shouldst forget…"

Marika held the Bolt of Gransax before her, the grip empty.

"'Tis a fine weapon, and hast served thee well. And 'twill continue to serve thee in the days and years ahead." Marika said as Gundrik took the weapon from here carefully. "When the time cometh, Order shall be restored, with thee as its herald."

"You want to… restore Order, is that right? You said that earlier," Gundrik rasped, shaking his head. "There is not much left to restore order to, if I am being honest."

Marika tilted her head. "Was that not thine intent? To restore these lands? Didst thou think I did not have a similar goal?"

Gundrik sighed. "I should have known it would not have ended with slaying a god. Slaying a god does not bring the sanity back to the nobles and commoners. I don't know how that will be managed."

"Thine slaughter of the Elden Beast opened the way. Never forget that."

Putting the Bolt away, Gundrik held his arms out to his sides. "All of that is well and good, but we have no troops, no soldiers to lead into battle. Leyndell is under an ocean of ash. The only person with a functional army might be the new lord of Limgrave, but that is miles away. And should we return under your banner, and the people of this land's minds restored, I do not know how they will take your resurrection. I stand before you now, and I can barely believe that you are here now."

"'Twas many years before even the Shattering that I took armies under my wing, and bade them march under my command," Marika said, walking past Gundrik and into the Bedchambers. Gundrik followed close behind. "It will simply need to be done again. A new Empire to replace the old. It need not be within the confines of Leyndell's broken walls. The Erdtree no longer requires protection. It will stand as a beacon. A testament toward thine accomplishments."

Away from the sun and the shining Erdtree, Gundrik felt himself calming down slightly. He knew Marika's plan: restore the Empire, under a new banner, with no other gods to claim dominion over it. Perhaps that had been her plan from the very start, and it did not matter who had to be trampled beneath it in order for it to come to fruition. How many pawns were there, he wondered? How many plans did she put into effect before the Shattering occurred? Just because he had succeeded did not mean that if he hadn't, the world would have been doomed.

But Gundrik had succeeded. And perhaps that was all that mattered.

"Thou mentioned a new lord in Limgrave," Marika said, sitting on the half-dish stone bed, putting her at eye level with Gundrik. "The final battlefield of my Lord Godfrey, before I sent him and his fellows across the sea, to fight and grow strong in the face of death. Irony survived the Shattering, it seemeth. Old Gransax was the first clue."

Gundrik nodded. "Lady Nepheli Loux, and her right-hand man, Kenneth Haight. She swore fealty to me in the event I became Elden Lord. It might be time to make sure she is good to her word."

"I have no doubt," Marika stated, crossing her legs. "Her last name is the same as the barbarians my old lord came from. They are an honest sort, unlike mine own people."

Gundrik shrugged, sighing as he pulled his helmet from his head. Marika raised a brow as she looked upon his naked face for the first time.

His features were decidedly common, his skin pale, and warm black hair fell down the back of his head and face. Dark eyes stared forward, and deep lines marked his face.

"I will get it ready then, assuming it is your intent that we march from here to Limgrave," Gundrik said, bowing. "It will be a long journey. Are you sure you are up for it?"

"Showing concern, so soon? Though no longer bound beneath the Greater Will, a god I remain."

"Just a matter of propriety. I have no intention of… well, you know. I did murder Godfrey just a few days ago. It wouldn't feel right to- I am very bad at this," Gundrik grumbled, wiping his forehead.

Marika frowned at him. "Godfrey knew all too well what couldst come about. I shan't judge you for his death. In truth, it is the way he wouldst want to leave this world. Fighting against one such as thee, one who could return that glimmer to his eyes once more. Begrudge yourself not, like I do not. Thou hast proven worthy of this honor. But know this – I choose when it shouldst occur. Not you. I am no longer a prize to be won."

Gundrik let out a shaky breath. "Well, I am glad that was taken care of before this got any further. Oh, and before I get started…"

Marika waved a hand, urging Gundrik to continue.

"Radagon. Your other half," Gundrik said, causing Marika's eyes to narrow again, though her expression did not change beyond that. "Is he still there?"

"We art the same. We art two sides of the same coin. Where I go, he follows. I am here, and he is with me. Ah, but he… Oh, now that is interesting."

Gundrik stepped forward. "What?"

"The leal hound, he is silent. I felt his presence, his ghost, but he doth refuse to speak. Dost thou feel embarrassed, O Radagon? Mine other self? Wouldst thou leave our lord in the dark?"

After a few moments of silence, Marika shook her head.

"He shalt not speak. Not now. Perhaps some other time. Make your preparations, Lord Gundrik. By tomorrow, we shalt march across these ashen wastes, and begin our new Order."

Gundrik swallowed the lump in his throat, bowed, and then walked away. He did not know what would happen if he became Elden Lord, but his current circumstances were certainly not what he expected.

It could have been worse, though. Gundrik knew that much. At least, finally, he was in a position to help more than a handful of people, bring the Lands Between, his home, back into the light.

The journey ahead would be hard, but it was nothing compared to what came before. Of that, Gundrik was certain.

Alright then, here we go. Some of you might be here from my FE fics where I mentioned I was doing an Elden Ring fic. At the time I was talking about a different concept entirely, but then this idea slowly wormed its way into my head like a tunneling brain parasite, and now here we are. Is Marika/Radagon actually alive in the lore? Does any of this actually make a lick of sense? idk, but it's fun to write nonetheless.

I don't expect this fic to be very long, nor do I expect to update it very frequently, but I loved writing this first chapter and I rarely leave something to dry for too long. Here's to all the friends we made along the way!

A link to our Discord server, where we chat and shit with fellow writers: discord .gg/9XG3U7a

See you guys later!