Wow… I knew I had some grammatical and punctuational errors in my story but after finally finding the time to read them myself after publication… wow.
I truly apologize for all those mistakes and thank you guys for still reading my fic. This is embarrassing but I will do my best to edit every chapter so that it will hold no error in the future! (*Proud salute)
Anyways, onto a more important note…
HOLY MOLY, RAVENSOUL'S JUST GAVE ME A REVIEW!!!!
Ahem! Sorry about that, just really excited is all.
-you're acting like a fanboy.
I am not!
-it's perfectly fine. Just try not to creep the rest of us out in the process.
I thought you'd be leaving after the battle with Kirk and Argon? Why are you still here?
-you don't want me to be here? I suppose it will get you to stop making these author's note's so long if I do depart...
Are you done philosophizing?
-that… doesn't make any sense(idiot)
I heard that!
-but yes, I will be leaving.
Yippee for me (*air punch)
-however, I WILL be dropping by every now and again, just to make sure you're not corrupting the minds of our reader's.
Whatever you say Illogical me. Now… onto the story!
The air was substantially cooler down in the Darkroot Basin. The tree's above fed by the sun's bountiful rays grew thrice the size of houses which blocked all light from traversing its lower levels. The moss and fungi that sprouted on the inclined walkways and cliff's grew in abundance that covered the moist earth with a lush green. Along the slopes of the Basin, where tall Ent's stood ever watchful, bloomed delicate flowers that shone with brilliant light to show the way as multitudes of fireflies decorated the air like sparkling jewelry for the lower forest to wear.
At the last level of the great expanse of rock and moss stood a lake untroubled by the war's and scourge up above. Here in the quiet space of few trees and a roaring waterfall, tranquility reigned. The waters of the lake sparkled like polished diamonds on the surface, whilst the crystalline monster's that stood like garrison's over its beautiful waters stared unblinkingly at their surroundings. They weren't concerned with the problems of hollow's, undead and god's; being empty shells of crystal that sought to capture maiden's that would never be seen again in that ancient land.
Indeed, their priorities set out by Seath himself commanded them to scout for more of the fairer sex. Where they found lone women, they would apprehend them within their massive bodies of blue for safe transit to the Duke's Archives. What would await those yelling, screaming, wailing and terrified maidens afterward was not a problem for the crystal beasts. For how does an empty shell know what it is to grieve? To feel remorse, guilt, regret or pain; when it's only purpose of creation was to steal and spirit away beings full of life? Perhaps in containing these maiden's they felt but a sliver of what it was to be alive. To be whole. To be complete…
However, now they all stood motionless. After centuries had passed when the Great Lord had set off to relink the Flame, what maidens remained to be captured? The halls of Anor Londo, both upper and lower levels, lay empty after years and years of abandonment. The streets were clotted with waves of dust and the only sound that escaped the haunted domain was the whistling of the cold wind, unbothered by the happenings of the living world.
These bodies of crystal that dotted the dying kingdom of Lordran stood mindlessly stationary. Their creator had become mad from his own machinations already, forgetting they had even existed to begin with. Without a master to order their steps and command their movement, they stood like old statues of a time long forgotten.
They were almost docile. Almost being the key word, for whist they had no master or orders to follow, they didn't have a problem trying to tear the Chosen Undead a new one every time he passed one by.
It was as if there was a target painted red on Argon's back that drew more and more of these annoying blue behemoths' his way. It wasn't like he wanted to fight them, certainly not after they had broken his favorite Zweihander that one time and ganged up on him when he fought that ugly hydra the other time. He truly hated those mindless hunks of fancy rock with a passion.
People had argued that he somehow instigated a fight with them unintentionally. Argon didn't understand how walking passed one would do such a thing. These creeps wanted to smash him to a pulp, he just wanted to smash hollows to a pulp. Maybe it was a whole matter of the food-chain or something? He couldn't wrap his head around it. Right now, he was too busy trying not to turn around as his tailed companion bathed in the cool water the Basin contained.
After their fight with Darkwraith Kirk, Argon and Priscilla had updated Laurentius and Quelana on the happenings of the previously dying Fair Lady, and how exactly she had come to be healed. To say that the normally passive Chaos Sister had burst into first emotion would have been an understatement. She had flung her arms around Argon and nearly squeezed all the breath out of his tired lungs. Who knew a tiny woman like her could possess a grip so fierce? The undead silently prayed for his bearded friend's health, he would need it when he and Quelana grew in their relationship. She was damn strong.
Argon and Priscilla had then departed from Blighttown, wishing their two allies' good luck before the masked undead had suggested that they take a moment to rest in a place… more relaxing than a destroyed shrine or a blacksmith's workshop. The idea had come to Argon quickly. The Darkroot Basin was the perfect place to lay low and take a breather from the scratches from death they had previously encountered. He wouldn't have chosen the Garden above because of the painful scars it had etched into his heart, so the Basin was the next best thing.
The soft sound of splashing water broke the undead from these thoughts as he turned his head towards the waterfall. The goddess' eyes had brightened like gold pine resin when he had led them to the beautiful lake. She had been so excited, in fact, that she had squealed loudly, dropped her scythe and sped off like a happy puppy towards the glittering streaks of water.
He couldn't blame her. The time they had all spent in that swamp had not only dirtied their clothing but left a stench on their bodies so putrid, even the Ent's they passed on their way down avoided them, the stupid hunks of wood. A cold bath was exactly what they were looking for.
Argon's eye's shone like small pools of flame in the darkened area as he watched his companion disappear into the white wall of liquid. She had finally stopped shrinking when they reached Darkroot Basin, and now stood a few good inches shorter than him, a height most human women weren't normally blessed with. He had pondered on why for a goddess, she hadn't stopped shrinking at twice his height like all the other god's he had encountered thus far but said nothing about it to her. He wasn't complaining about her stature in the slightest. In fact, he would go as far to say that this size suited her perfectly.
He turned his head back to the tree's in front of him, where the bodies of slain crystalline beast's lay prone and lifeless - if they had any life to begin with - and sighed contently. It was peaceful down here, so much so that he had felt compelled to remove his mask and rest the weapons that usually hung on his back. There hadn't been many moments whereby he had the luxury of relaxation, and to stand here away from all that his fate had entailed so far felt like a nice change of pace.
The fact that Gwyndolin, Frampt and that brass-clad Keeper had lied to him made his chest constrict tightly. He had thought he was being noble. Assumed that taking on Oscar's dying request had been his way to redeem himself from the past he tried so hard to escape. Every undead he had come across, from the bored fellow in chainmail to the last Berenike undead that was slowly losing his sanity had warned him. They had all said that this was a means to an end, that what he was doing was madness. Argon wasn't a fool in any regard, he had seen the fallen bodies of hollowed undead, both male and female. He had taken the items from their corpses to strengthen himself… to survive.
He put pieces of broken puzzles together as he conversed with people and intelligent beast alike. He knew that what he was doing was suicide, but he hadn't cared. He had wanted to prove everyone wrong. Whether for the sake of his manhood or because he needed a reason to exist, he didn't know for sure, but he had rung both bells' anyway.
He had suffered, died too many times to count and seen horror's no ordinary man would come back from. He had killed innocent being's too, and the guilt of his sin's stung like bitter tears in his eyes. He was destined to reach Anor Londo, Solaire and many others had helped him in that regard, but in doing all that meaningless fighting and bloodshed, he had also discovered the dark truth the god's of Lordran had kept secret.
Linking the Flame meant prolonging the suffering of undead like him just so that what little of the god's remained in this world could reign longer. It sickened him to think that he had been like a mindless drone, killing foe after foe but not realizing the truth. Priscilla, Quelaag, Anastasia, Laurentius, Solaire, and even Logan. They were all made to suffer because of the selfishness of Gwyn and his kin. He was no bringer of Light to Argon; his life wouldn't have been this hard if that was so. No, the God of Light only existed to vacillate his strength. To dominate the feeble and weaker race that was humanity. He was no god, but a devil in white and gold clothing.
Argon knew he couldn't link the Flame, even after slaying Gwyn. Yet at the same time he couldn't allow it to burn out either. He knew there was always a darkness where light existed, the Abyss and Artorias were proof of that. He couldn't allow it to spread to the world.
He sighed again, raising a hand to ruffle his black hair and lean against Priscilla's scythe. He wouldn't be able to make any decisions now of all times, he was too exhausted to think clearly. Instead, he took a moment to admire the weapon of his companion.
The Lifehunt scythe. A weapon deemed as blasphemous for the fact that it possessed the power to kill a god. A power greater than Occultic magic, the goddess Velka's specialty. He had felt the pull that Velkian rapier had on him. It was surreal. Inviting. Almost sinful to bask in. The power that surged from its hilt to the tip of the blade shone like black fire in a white clearing. With that blade, he felt indomitable, untouchable by the forces of man. A feeling he feared and sought for at the same time.
Yet when he held this scythe of Priscilla's, it felt completely different. As soon as his fingers touched the oaken shaft, he felt his body being attacked by poisons, toxins, curses and the strange sense of his life being drained from him all at once. Then after a few moments it all disappeared like it had never been there to begin with. He assumed that was because it was a drawback of being human, but still couldn't put his finger on it.
Argon hefted the scythe in his arm's, it was heavy, but he would manage the weight. The blade gleamed wickedly in the darkness and he had the strange feeling that if he used it, the consequences wouldn't be pretty. He relaxed his arm and rested the weapon against the damp earth. Perhaps it's care and use would be better suited for Priscilla anyways. Besides, Argon never did like using scythes. They required too much dexterity if you missed the first swing.
"Argon." Priscilla's voice called out to him and he turned his head towards the waterfall. He waited a moment but still couldn't see her anywhere. He frowned and got up from the rock he was currently sitting on.
"Argon." Her voice called to him again and the undead swiveled his head to search for the cross breed.
This is odd. I could swear she sounded like she was a few feet away from me. Where could she-
"Argon!" A shout rang against his right ear and he let out a shocked yelp, jumping back but losing his footing. Time seemed to speed up as his head hit the soft ground with a softer thud.
"What the…" he started when his companion's laughter broke through the silence, her voice like little bell's tinkling in the wind.
"Oh… I see now," Argon grinned and stood up. "You think that's funny, do 'ya?"
Her laughter continued, and Argon turned his head toward a nearby tree where it sounded like her laughter originated from. It looked like he was rubbing off on her more than he thought. The Priscilla he had rescued from the Painted World all those days ago would never have been this playful.
The undead slouched his shoulders and bent over to collect a handful of moist sand. She would probably freeze him for this, but he didn't care. She had begun this act of war and he would be the one to finish it.
"Well fine. If you want to hide, my mud-ball of seeking will just have to…" he took aim a giggling tree and cocked his arm back before hurling it forward.
"Find you!"
His projectile landed on its mark with a satisfying slap and a triumphant smirk appeared on his face when he heard her gasp from the sudden counterattack.
"A-A-Ah! Cold!"
It was Argon's turn to laugh as the cross breed's illusionary magic faded and her pouting face emerged, previously braided hair splayed out around her like a snow-white mane.
"That was unfair, Argon. I just bathed!"
"Serves you right. You spook an undead and you get the mud b-" his amber eye's widened as a blush dusted his cheeks and he turned his head away from her.
"Argon?" Priscilla asked when he didn't finish his sentence.
"What is the matter?"
"H-Here's a better question, where exactly is your gown?" His voice cracked as he spoke, and the goddess frowned in confusion before looking down at herself.
She was clad in nothing more than her undergarments and the mud Argon had thrown at her that covered what it could of her large chest.
Priscilla burned a deep scarlet and squealed, covering what she could of her modesty with her arms. She had thought she had donned her torn gown before she had left the water. She had left her chest bindings on a rock to dry when the idea of scaring the otherwise unflappable undead had popped into her head. She felt like dying on the spot right then and there. For Argon, her companion, her savior, to see her scantily-dressed and exposed of all things was the worst embarrassment she could have ever imagined possible.
She had only planned on having a bit of harmless fun, not putting herself on display for him gawk at! If he hadn't been spooked enough by her earlier prank, he was certainly shocked now. Her body quivered both from the embarrassment and cold she felt as goosebumps rippled across her arms, legs and tummy.
She felt like such an idiot. How would the undead think of her now that he had literally seen all of her?! What was even more embarrassing was that he at least had the decency to avert his eye's and announce her state of undress. It was terrible to be caught in a situation like this with a pervert that stared; but it was even worse to be caught bare by a gentleman of all men. Oh, how she wished she had never listened to her stupid brain and left the waterfall barely dressed. She imagined that gown of hers had long flowed down stream, far away from her grasp. It was punishment for her actions, she supposed.
"U-Um… maybe you should dry off." His voice broke her from berating herself and she turned a darker shade of red as he lifted a pair of clothes from his inventory.
"You'll catch cold if you keep standing there like a statue."
"A-Ah y-yes…" she replied meekly and took stiff steps towards his outstretched arm as cold droplets of water dribbled down her thigh's, making her shiver further. She risked a look at his face. It was still turned away from his body and she sighed gratefully before accepting the clothing he offered. He was many things, but she was glad that he wasn't an ill-bred man at least.
Ohh! He must think I'm so vulgar now, he must have seen everything. This is just terrible! No! No, no, no, no, no!
"T-Thank you." She said and ran behind the same tree she stood at previously to change.
"Sure! No problem." He laughed out awkwardly. That accidental flash of skin had burned itself into his memory. A sight, he agreed was the opposite of terrible, but he wished would escape from the confines of his over-active imagination. Although he hadn't seen much, he doubted the picture of her white underwear would leave his mind any time soon.
Damn you fate!
"And don't worry! I didn't see… much."
He heard her squeak in response and cursed his lack of a better explanation. His brain had just shut down after witnessing such long, creamy leg-
Stooop! Stop you traitorous fiend! You're an undead now, undead don't react to hormones… I think.
"A-And anyways, I looked away as soon as your illusion wore off, so I didn't really get the chance to see a lot."
He didn't know whether to feel like an idiot for making it sound worse, or guilty because he had seen more than he had intended to. He admitted that being honest was the best way to deal with this situation quickly; but telling her that he had gotten the perfect view of her private areas was like the final nail in the coffin. He didn't want to make her feel worse that she already did. It was an accident after all.
"So, for the meantime, take your time getting dressed. I'll, um…" he was running out of words as his brain slowed to a snail's pace.
Dammit, not you too brain!
He quickly looked around their surroundings to search for something, anything to occupy his time when his eyes found the lake to his left.
"The lake! Yes, I need to clean myself off too, don't it? And you haven't eaten anything for a while… I know! I'll catch some fish for you to eat, you must be starving!" He blurted out and immediately dashed for the glittering waters, not caring about equipping his Rusted-Iron Ring or disrobing as he dived headfirst into the dark pool and swam like his life depended on it.
Priscilla stayed where she was, body propped up against the moss-covered tree with knees bent even after her companion had left in a hurry. The clothing he had gifted to her was pressed against her front, covering her modesty from the air itself as she attempted to get over her embarrassment.
Argon had said that he hadn't seen an awful lot of her bare skin, but she still couldn't get a grip on her emotions or thoughts at all. The very fact that he had seen her was enough to stun her to eternal silence, and the final nail in the coffin was that she hadn't even known she was naked. Of all the dumbest mistakes she could have ever made in her life, why in the world did she have to flash the one man she did her best to respect the most?!
The goddess moaned in defeat and curled in on herself.
She had really done it this time. Now they would always have this awkward silence around the two of them because of her idiotic mistake. Although Argon - being Argon - would most likely do his best to cheer her up and act like everything was alright, she knew he had also been affected by what happened. He had stuttered like a pubescent boy and found the first opportunity to avoid a drawn-out scenario.
While it was the perfect decision to make, it would also make things more difficult to converse with him now that there was an obvious cross breed in the room that needed addressing. Priscilla's mind switched to worry-mode as she thought about the undead.
Would he confront her about it when he returned, or would he choose to pretend like it never happened and unintentionally cause an unseen barrier to rise between the two of them? He was known to act indifferent on many occasions as a front to his true feelings, so would he act like that and further block her out? What about what he thought of her? He had blushed red as the setting sun. Did he like what he saw? Did he hate what he saw?! Was she too thin for his liking? Maybe he favored smaller-chested woman like Quelaan over her… wait, why was she comparing the two? Was she jealous?!
Priscilla sighed out loudly and closed her eyes. She allowed the sound of the wind and the roar of the waterfall to calm her senses. After a few deep breaths, she rose to her feet, dusting off the wet sand from her body as she did so, and peeked out from the side of the tree.
Argon was nowhere in sight.
She quickly padded back towards the waterfall, hopping over a fallen mass of crystal in the process before approaching her now dry chest bindings.
Whatever he decided to do was up to him now. What happened happened. She was just grateful he hadn't acted like a dumbfounded idiot and stood there blankly, or worse, fainted on the spot after seeing her. That would have really destroyed her self-esteem. All she could do now was act normally. While trying not to lose her cool. When he would probably arrive soaked in water with transparent clothing.
She sighed again. This was going to be difficult.
After taking the time to properly secure her now clean chest binding's around herself, she held up the set of clothing Argon had given her. It was thick and looked slightly comfortable to wear, she would just need to create a small hole for her tail to slip through the trousers.
She frowned and took a closer look at the garment, it seemed oddly familiar but just she couldn't pin-point the reason why. She was about to put it down so that she could try on the trousers first, when her nose caught a pleasant aroma.
She sniffed the air once. The scent was faint. She craned her neck and sniffed again. The scent grew fainter.
The cross breed huffed in annoyance and stuck out her bottom lip. She knew that smell somehow and knew it well. Why on earth couldn't she recognize who or what it belonged to? With a determined look on her face, she sniffed the air a few more times, catching the stray scent repeatedly. Sometimes it was close and then it was far away. She became frustrated as time ticked on until she stopped dead, tail stopping it's wagging momentarily.
Priscilla gazed at the garment in her hands and brought it to her face before taking a small sniff, a small dusting of pink on her face.
Immediately her tail shot up a like petrified animal and her emerald orb's glinted in recognition, her blush intensifying considerably. She had finally found it, the scent that had evaded her capture for so long.
She closed her eyes and pressed the fabric completely against her face as she inhaled deeply. A delightful shiver sped down her spine and she sighed throatily.
She never knew such a lovely scent even existed until she had met him. What a pleasure it was to know your new favorite aroma belonged to your favorite person.
Priscilla blushed scarlet and squealed into the garment.
"I'm hopeless…"
In a word, Argon imagined the lake he swam in as purifying. It washed away his worries, aches, pains - and in a way, his sins - as he delved deep into the depths of the Basin. His breathing-control wasn't as bad as he had thought it would be as his legs pounded against the slowly flowing current. The faint light pierced through the surface of the water, allowing him to see the fish that lazily swam underneath him. Silver, dark blue and white schools brought a torrent of bubble's that brushed against Argon's arms and chest as he followed them. He fished a throwing knife from his pouch and stabbed downward, impaling a medium sized ocean-dweller and storing it in his inventory before breaking to the surface.
He gasped air deeply into his lungs and plunged back down, catching another scaly bugger and stuffing it into his bottomless box before powering forward. His arms and legs swiped water away like a frog as he swam on, enjoying the peace this other world offered as he watched pockets of circular air rush out from his nose like soul's floating to whatever Heaven existed after death.
He was glad he could freely traverse these depths, that hydra had almost taken up all the space possible when he had first come down here. Its gargantuan body had sat like a stopper on a glass vial previously, and Argon had certainly not enjoyed fishing out the bloodied scale's and body part's it had left behind when fleeing his barrage of flame-tipped arrows.
That day - after dying to a halberd-wielding Black Knight, three Crystalline beast's and a blast of scalding water - Argon had finally managed to climb atop a sturdy bridge above the waterfall and sever a few of the atrocious monster's heads. It was a victory that had caused the wildlife here in the Basin to flourish from its state of near-extinction.
That hydra had been destroying this forest's inhabitants, who know how much it had to eat before it was satisfied. A table for eight wasn't always that accommodating in a small eatery after all.
As the thought left his mind like another of those silvery bubble's, Argon broke to the surface again. A gentle smile found its way onto his features. He wouldn't have been able to swim like this if he had been wearing armor. Thank goodness he chose to don the uniform of those painting guardians.
He peddled his leg's around and crossed to the other side of the lake with ease, using more force to push himself up onto a nearby shore that was slightly submerged. He stood from the shore, slouching as his clothes hung on him heavily soaked. The swim had been relaxing, calming and a good place to gather his thoughts.
His smile faltered, however, when he turned his head and realized where he was standing. The deep cave before him curved sideways like a traveling snake as its dead end stood with a glowing summon sign, ancient letters of a forgotten alphabet scrawled out in black and light yellow.
It belonged to Princess Dusk.
The undead hadn't known what to think when he had broken that golden beast of crystal to piece's and found the maiden trapped inside, her face one of relief when she saw him. Argon's encounter with her, with that broken talisman had been the reason he was brought to Oolacile that day. The reason he had slain Artorias, braved the Abyss, slain Manus and acquired this putrid infection of his.
That happy mushroom had been oblivious to his pain and suffering when he had returned, only thinking about that annoying princess that got herself into more trouble than she was worth. Yet he hadn't said a word about it, especially after encountering Gough in that sealed tower and learning more of that corrupted land.
The agony he had felt after slaying the knight he faintly remembered looking up to for so long made his heart bleed. The fact that he, another mindless undead, had taken the shell of a life that was once Lordran's pride had crippled his mind and cracked his soul.
He couldn't return to that ugly kingdom, he wouldn't. That annoying princess could go to hell with waiting if she ever thought he would waste his time returning. Her only ploy was to keep him locked in Oolacile to fawn over his every movement. He knew of her growing admiration for him after saving her a second time and honestly, it sickened him. She had already tried to bait him into staying by using Kalameet as an excuse. He had nearly accepted it too were it not for that traitorous Chester that opened his eyes with those ambiguous words of his. He was at least glad for a final favor from the skilled merchant before he had finally departed and never looked back.
With a small sigh, Argon turned on his heel and walked along the shore towards the waterfall. He wouldn't be seeing Dusk again, or Gough for that matter. He had his own life to live now.
At that thought, his cross-breed companion entered his mind and he blushed slightly, choosing to wring out the water from his clothing as a distraction. He still needed to figure out a way to break the ice between them after that… encounter of theirs. She would obviously still be embarrassed about what happened and he didn't want a small mistake like that to pull her away from him completely.
As much as he teased and messed with her, he knew she was the only thing stopping him from losing his mind and going hollow. Her presence was soothing to him, and her words gave him the courage he needed to stand up again.
With another sigh, he combed a hand through his wet hair and thought of a way to approach this in the best way possible. This was Priscilla he was taking about. With the things the two of them had been through thus far, this little awkward situation wouldn't be a trifle to deal with. He just needed to find the right words.
Maybe I could use the fish I caught to ease everything out?
"Most people tend to relax after a good meal. Perhaps that will help her to break out of that embarrassment?"
He tapped his chin as he continued walking. He could make out the white foam of the waterfall crashing onto the stone below from where he stood.
Should I just pretend like it didn't happen? Maybe she'd appreciate that if didn't say anything more to embarrass her?
He shook his head adamantly at that thought rather quickly.
No, then it would be too awkward for me to act normally around her.
He furrowed his brow as he neared the waterfall. It was at least a hundred meters away now.
I know! I'll just make a joke about it and move on. It'll cost me a frosting to the face but it's worth a shot!
With that, the undead happily hummed as he made his way near the waterfall. He could make out Priscilla from her undone white hair and waved from a far to her, holding up the haul he had caught in one hand.
This will be fine. A joke, some fish and a new pair of clothing will sort this problem out right away… wait, what clothing did I hand her anyways? I didn't think about it when I pulled it out of my box.
The image of the nude cross breed had electrocuted his mind to numbness so powerful he would have fainted from blood loss if he stared a moment longer. She had been dripping with water, the small slivers of light illuminating her alabaster skin like china. She had looked truly divine to him in that moment and he was loathe to deny it.
Still… he also agreed that if he saw her naked again, he would most definitely faint. It wasn't like he hadn't seen a woman naked before. He faintly recalled seeing one when he was human, but then again, comparing a cross breed goddess to a human maiden were two very different things. Seeing such beauty up close was breathtaking. Seeing that beauty scantily clad, blushing and soaking wet was a firebomb to his racing heart.
"Argon?" He heard her voice call out and he smiled. Whatever the case may be, she was still his friend. His companion. They would be just fine no matter the circumstances. He just trusted her so much that he had no reason for doubt.
"Over here, you wouldn't believe the size of the fish I caught! You're gonna have a feast toni-" his breath caught in his throat and his eye's widened.
No, no, no… please don't tell me I gave her THAT set of armor.
Priscilla appeared from around the falling water, smiling softly at him with the same blush across her cheeks. She looked beautiful indeed, but that wasn't why Argon stood flabbergasted.
The breath left his lungs with a dull rasp and his jaw hit the floor.
Oh hell.
The black leather Priscilla wore hugged her body like a glove. From where he stood he noticed how the laced bodice framed the curves of her chest and hips, amplifying her voluptuousness to a degree that made Argon's throat dry up. Her slim waist looked as if his arms could wrap comfortably around them, and as she walked towards him the undead couldn't help but notice how slender and long her legs looked.
He hadn't given her gloves or boots to wear so when he noticed the sharp contrast of the Velkian garb's black leather and her creamy skin tone and luscious white hair, he promptly lost all sense of logic as he tried to speak.
"Aooohhh."
"Pardon me. What was that?" She asked, cute face furrowed in confusion as she absently stroked the scales on the back of her hand.
"E-Err… nothing important." Argon replied, unintentionally squeaking and making her giggle into her hand.
He swallowed and tried to focus. He could do this, it wasn't difficult. Undead weren't affected by hormones, remember?
"A-Anyways, about what happened before…" he trailed off. Priscilla blushed shyly and nodded for him to continue.
"W-Well we can't undo what was done, right?"
She nodded again.
"And I already said I didn't see much so…" he watched as she bit her lower lip in anticipation and he gulped again. Those were very plush lips. He steeled himself. He could do this, no worries.
"... So, let's just keep on moving forward, alright?" He forced his usual cheeriness into his voice for emphasis and smiled so wide his eyes had to close.
Silence ensued for a moment before…
"I agree." She said, and he opened his eyes. She was smiling that beautiful smile at him again. His legs were beginning to grow weak.
"Thank you, Argon!" She said, bouncing back on her heels as she placed her hands behind her back.
Time stopped and the undeads eyes grew to the size of gargoyle shields as his gaze was drawn to her sizable asset's that bounced with her body like a mass of humanity sprite's.
He couldn't stop himself from looking. He didn't mean to either, his eyes just went there! While this was all going on, he could have sworn they hadn't looked that big when she was wearing that gown of hers. Was it because her gown was magical or something? If so, that was some damn good magic.
The orbs cased in onyx lifted into the air before gravity pushed them back into place, making them jiggle slightly. The sight was the last thing Argon saw before the dam in his head burst.
"Um, Argon?"
"Wha?"
"Your nose is bleeding. Are you okay?"
"It is? How pecul… iar."
"You're swaying from side to side. Maybe you should rest."
"Resssst… yeahhhh."
"Argon? Argon!"
That was the last thing the Chosen Undead heard before he promptly fainted from too much blood loss.
Damn you fate and hormones…
A small fire crackled near a tree in the Darkroot Basin as two figures sat in silence. Priscilla, clothed in Velkian leather - and the boots that came with it - crouched in front of the orange flames, reveling in its warmth. A smile adorned her features as the fish Argon had caught roasted on thin stick's. The atmosphere had grown more comfortable after the undead had come to, and they had begun to converse casually while waiting for the meat to cook.
Argon, for his part, sat across from her with his back turned. While in the process of waiting, he had tugged off the baggy guardian shirt so that the warmth of the fire could dry him off. Priscilla had raised a solution that he could just conjure a flame from his pyromancy glove as it would be quicker, but the undead had simply shushed her, stating that doing thing's the traditional way was more fun sometimes. She hadn't argued further on the matter. Why would she when they rarely had the chance to relax like this? Besides, a shirtless Argon was a guilty pleasure she wouldn't pass up for the world.
The light from the fire showered the small clearing of trees with a warm glow, almost akin to the many bonfire's the two had already traversed. However, this felt vastly different from the hot finger's that coiled around that rusted sword. This fire wasn't funneled by the power of a Keeper, it's sparks weren't tainted by the soul's so many undead had channeled into it.
No, this flame was personal, a shared pleasure between the two that had made it. To the cross breed, it almost felt homely, if such a thing were even possible in a land brimming with despair.
She averted her hungry eyes from the skewered fish to gaze at Argon, wiping the drool from the corners of her mouth in the process. She was just really hungry.
The flames made his pale skin glow golden and she paid close attention to how the shadows of the Basin contoured the muscles on his back and shoulder's, like a carpenter working on a masterpiece. His hands were moving as she watched him. He was probably mending the broken equipment he had with the repair powder he purchased long ago. Another gentle smile graced her lips. His habit of overworking himself had become commonplace for her these days. Wherever they went, he would always be tinkering with one thing or another, and his mind was an endless maze of thought's that never stopped for rest.
She had known him to think three steps ahead of time and would listen intently as he would suddenly explain things to her, absentmindedly describing the nature of his plans. About how they would work, what his idea on the subject was and how well it would benefit them should his efforts pay off. Argon was like great inventor to her, puzzling about and attempting every solution he thought of until he was satisfied. It was intriguing to watch.
She hadn't asked him how he knew so much - previously being a human with a short lifespan - and he had never mentioned how or where he had acquired such knowledge. He had once said that the memories of his past were clouded in fog, so she hadn't forced the issue, but her interest in him still grew.
There had been many human's she had encountered over the centuries while in the Painted World. All of them had been tested by the inhabitants of her previous home and had shown their true color's eventually. She disliked their greed, insatiable lust for power and deranged need for humanity. She had even begun to conform to the mindset of all god's when the topic of humans and undead were brought up. Her eyes had just seen too much of the same common symptoms to trust the weaker race.
That was before the Xanthous King had arrived, however.
He was stranger than the one's before him and spoke in an accent so parallel to the other's, that she had thought he was a creature with human intelligence. Who wouldn't when regarding his silky yellow turban that looked like it weighed more than he did?
He had been the first to gaze at her form and speak before raising his weapon. Instead of the lust for soul's and power, he had sought friendship, a concept she hadn't been able to understand at first. She had hesitated, not replied to his questions and tensed when he arrived in that phantasmic form, ready to use her scythe.
But the undead had simply laughed, disarming her with conversation. He had been the one to explain the unpredictable behavior of humans and the frailness of their minds when pushed too far. Priscilla had understood them on a closer level because of Jeremiah. It was the reason she had begun to give them the opportunity to leave first, the reason she spoke to them in kinder words than the other gods had ever conversed in.
In that time, the ridiculously-clothed undead had also told her about the very few humans to look out for especially. The one's that faced troubles with confidence, although their legs shook with fear. The one's that laughed in the face of death, although they had nothing left to be happy about. And of course, the humans whose heart's bled for others pain, whilst they ignored the pain they suffered themselves.
When she looked at Argon, Jeremiah's words resonated clearly with the charismatic undead. She knew in her heart that this was the human she needed to be close to the most. For the one's that carried the weight of the world on their shoulders were the one's frailer than the rest. A simple push would be all it would take to make them crumble to dust, a truth she did her best to protect him against.
Argon may be the Chosen Undead to all Lordran. Her uncle and Frampt may have placed unwarranted trust and burdens on his smaller body that he would no doubt carry out and accomplish, but he was not invincible.
She knew how he suffered, how he moaned from the nightmare's he dreamt each night or struggled to stand up when the fatigue of this world weighed him down. It was because she loved him so deeply that she understood his pain. It wasn't easy to live day-to-day knowing you couldn't remember your past, or that the only thing you did remember was betrayal and torture.
He sighed out in satisfaction as the sword he was mending was brought back to pristine condition. His eye's locked onto hers as he turned around and he smiled. She returned the smile and gazed at the deep bags under his eye's. How long had he gone from his time entering Lordran without a proper night's rest?
She traced the black veins on the right side of his face with her attentive sight, before resting on the scar above his heart. How much did being undead really hurt him? He never voiced his pain because he didn't want anyone to bother with his well-being. Was he really fine with being so alone like this?
"I think that the fish should be ready about now." He said, and she blinked, broken from thinking further. With tentative finger's she picked up a skewer from the edge of the fire and lifted it to her nose.
The smell of cooked meat was making her stomach rumble impatiently and without waiting for it to cool, she opened her mouth, canines flashing and chomped down on the fish.
Argon felt the corners of his mouth turn upwards as her tail slapped against the ground happily. That must be one tasty fish he caught.
Man, I wish I could eat…
He watched her devour fish after fish from the fire. Her eating wasn't sophisticated or regal like any lady he had witnessed but he didn't care. Goddess or not, he was happy she liked the meal so much. The natural oil of the fish she ate coated her fingers, making them shine and her mouth was covered in stray pieces of fish scales and meat. She looked so adorable he felt like reaching over and patting her on the head.
Wait, would that mean I'd be treating her like a pet?
He watched her munch on and shrugged. He didn't really think she'd mind anyway. It was a silly pat on the head.
He was about to pull on his painting shirt again when her voice called out.
"Argon, why is it that undead cannot eat?"
He frowned at the question. He had thought he mentioned it at least once to her. Or maybe he had done so in his head and forgot to tell her?
He looked at her. She had put down her skewer to stare at him, patiently awaiting his answer. The question seemed to be something that troubled her, if the way her tail twisted was anything to go by.
He smiled. Why was she always so damn thoughtful towards him, didn't she realize she was making it more and more difficult for him to see her as just his friend? While he admitted it wasn't a bad idea, he couldn't allow himself to do so. What kind of life was that to live with a man fated to go hollow one day? He couldn't damn her to a life like that, no matter how hard he wanted to accept his feelings for her.
"Well, it's not that we can't eat. We just don't, or at least, I don't."
"Why?"
"Personally? I don't know. After becoming undead I've never felt the need to eat or drink. Besides, the times I have ingested anything, the taste was most foul."
She placed a pale finger on her chin and pouted cutely, thinking about something for a moment before looking back at him.
"Would you like a bite of fish then?" She asked it so innocently, he wouldn't refuse her even if he could.
With a small nod, she rose to her haunches and blew a stream of icy-air that killed the fire in front of them. With her right hand still tightly gripping the last skewer of fish, she leant over the embers below her and entered his personal bubble. Argon gulped as she crept forward until her knee's rested a few inches away from his. He opened his mouth to speak but was silenced when she placed the fish against his lips, a warm smile on her face.
"It's delicious, I promise."
He looked at the fish and noticed a small chunk missing near the neck. He gazed back at her and noticed the deep blush she was sporting.
Oh… well that's sneaky of her.
Not wanting to be rude, he opened his mouth wide and sunk his teeth into the fish's neck. He felt and heard it crunch in his mouth as he drew his head back and chewed silently, a look of surprise on his face when the flavor hit his taste buds.
Hey. It's not bad at all.
Priscilla took the skewer away from him and placed her hands in her lap. She had seen him staring at her whilst she ate and thought he was hungry. He hadn't eaten in front of her once, unlike Laurentius that seemed to indulge in the berries and plants they passed in various areas of Lordran. And after finding out that he didn't choose to eat at all made her want to take the initiative. It wasn't like he would die if he ate something, and the fish he had caught tasted heavenly. It would have been a waste for him not to know how good the food he had caught and cooked for her tasted.
His swallow brought her back to reality and she gazed at his amber orbs shining brightly. It was captivating when he grinned broadly and flashed her those pearly-whites of his. The cherry on top was that he was still topless, a guilty pleasure she wouldn't tell a soul about. How was it possible for a man to look this good?!
"Well… how was it?"
His grin stretched wider and he closed his eyes in joy. "Divine. In fact, I haven't tasted anything that good before."
She blushed red as he stood up and put his shirt and mask back on before dusting his trousers off. While he readied himself for their departure, she gingerly took a small bite from the larger bite-mark he had left behind on the cooked fish and flushed crimson.
It was divine indeed…
Ho ho, I said I wouldn't put her in leather… but I did it anyway! Mwahaha! (*evil grin)
I thought this was a good time to bring back the fluffiness of our pair into the mix. They've been through so much lately that I thought this would definitely help them unwind, ya' know?
As for Argon's lack of eating, I drew the conclusion that even though the Chosen Undead in canon is still basically human, he doesn't really eat or drink throughout the game. While I understand that the events of the undead quest technically only happen in a day or two (since the sun never actually sets even after 10 straight hours of playing) it's still peculiar to note that the only time the player does ingest anything is when he/she heals with Estus/blessed water or eats a plant for some status effect. I mentioned in a previous chapter that whatever Argon eats makes him regurgitate a few hours later but that was due to how bad the stuff he ate tasted.
Again, I will be updating every other chapter to fix the TERRIBLE errors I have made. Please stay tuned, another character known for clobbering is about to make an appearance.
Please do R and R (at this point, I've officially given up. My poor ampersand… rest in peace.), I'd love to read your thoughts, opinion's and ideas should you have any. I accept flames that help to better me as a writer, as well. Please don't be shy if you have a problem.
Thank you for reading and I will se-
-you damned pervert! (*smashes mihairu7 in the face with a frying pan)
Yeeouch! The hell did you get a frying pan from?! And why are you here?
-you just did a shower scene with innocent Priscilla and you have the nerve to ask why I'm here?!
I am not perverted, and I didn't make it that descriptive. Don't get so emotional.
-what happened to this being a fic with language and violence only, huh?
I didn't write anything smexy and she was covered by mud! It was part of the fluff.
-really now? (*draws gravity hammer)
W-Wait! It's not what you think! It was… it was, uh… it was mildly ecchi! Yeah, that!
- (*dead silence)
What I say?
-and you say you aren't a pervert (*run's at mihairu7 with gravity hammer)
WHAT! THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEAN-
-Vanish from this world!
HEEEELLLLLLPP!!!