Memories of Old and New
The pair stopped at the cliff just beyond the beach for the day. The sun had begun its descent to the horizon, daylight turning to faded orange. Parvus estimated that they had less than an hour left before night was upon them and they wouldn't be able to navigate safely in the dark. Not that he hadn't done so before, but he didn't want to risk it while he was with someone else.
The two split up, with Parvus going to seek a sufficient amount of firewood to last the night and Rellana setting up the firepit itself. At first he refused, completely against the idea of letting her work out of a sense of chivalry, but he was pushed back when she revealed that she enjoyed getting her hands dirty. It was one of many reasons she had chosen to become a knight in the first place.
When he returned with a hefty armful of wood that was actually capable of burning, he was met with the sight of a thoroughly-dug dirt pit, with rocks outlining it. There was also a healthy amount of kindling available, twigs and bits of shrubbery piled off to the side.
Rellana herself stood near the cliff, her back to him, as she gazed over the horizon. The sun was now low enough that the sky was a deep orange, about to give way to the dark blue that was the night sky. Over the massive peak to their left, the edge of the moon could be seen. Both sources of light haloed her, making her out to be regal, exquisitely divine in her stalwartness. The gentle breeze from the ocean allowed her sash and dark ponytail to flow freely.
He approached quietly, his boots softly padding the ground. When he had reached the firepit, he kneeled down, slowly lowering the pile next to it. He kept his eyes on the Twin-Moon Knight, noting how the fading sunlight bounced against the water and reflected against her armor. It haloed her figure, making the Carian woman look almost ethereal, stoic, statuesque, yet beautiful still. Wind blew from the waves, gentle gusts rolling gently over her sash like a cape or dress would.
The scene was perfect, one worthy of a painting. If only he had a canvas and easel. Or paint. Or even the skill to paint.
And it was a shame too. There were so many places he wanted to capture in art and imagery, a way for people to see what he saw. Many times he just wanted it to properly remember the moment. Unlike those moments, however, this was the first time he wanted to capture the view because of who was in it, not just what.
He had only finished laying the pile out, still watching her intently, when one of his feet slipped against a deceptively loose patch of grass. He stumbled as he lost balance, his hands reaching out abruptly to prevent him from falling over completely. His armor creaked, breaking the atmosphere of soothing waves and ocean wind.
Rellana looked over her left shoulder at him, peering at the clumsy Tarnished from the corner of her eye.
"Sorry," he apologized. "Didn't want to interrupt your moment alone."
She held up a hand to silence him. "No need, Tarnished," she becalmed him. "I should've been more aware of my surroundings."
"I highly doubt that anyone would've been stupid enough to challenge you anyway," he commented.
She snorted. "I don't know about that. There are plenty that might just be that bold. You are the perfect example of that."
"Touche," he conceded.
The knightess turned and stepped over to him, crouching down as she reached for the pile he had laid out. She leaned forward on her ankles, taking a sizeable log from the top, before placing it in the center. She then reached to the pile of kindling and grabbed a handful before sprinkling it over the top.
He was about to open a pouch on his hip and retrieve a flint and steel when she once again held a hand up. "I've got it," she told him. She reached behind her and swiftly pulled out a pair of her the devices, splaying them out in a gloved hand.
Parvus nodded, chuckling as she began striking the objects against each other, attempting to generate sparks. "Didn't think you were that type of woman."
"What type is that?" she asked lowly, unamused by his choice of wording, her eyes concentrated on the task before her. The rocks clicked and scrape against each other rhythmically, a steady, rhythmic click coming from them like a heartbeat.
"The most 'hands-on' type, one that wrestles with the guys and slinks through mud and dirt," he answered honestly, yet cautiously. He didn't know if he accidentally offended her with his insinuation.
Luckily for him, she took it in stride. "I've never been much of a 'girl's girl'," she shrugged. "That was always something my sister got into, being Queen and such."
"Why is that?" he asked curiously.
She glanced at him before returning her attention to the firepit. "Well," she began, "I don't know how much you know about politics, but let's just say that only the firstborn in the royal family is destined to rule the land they grow up in. Any child after that is dispersed based on the whims of their parents."
"And you were in the latter category, I presume?"
Rellana nodded. "I was."
"But I assume your mother and father would've wanted all of their children to be presentable and 'ladylike', for lack of a better word," he pointed out.
"Presentable, yes," she agreed. "Ladylike, not really."
She looked up to see him cock his head in confusion. "Our parents weren't so strict that we were both boxed into whatever they wanted us to be. They let us expand our horizons, find interests beyond statecraft, something to make us people instead of pawns. Rennala went into the high art of glintstone sorcery…"
"While you took up knighthood and mastery of the blade," Parvus finished.
"Obviously," she affirmed dryly, returning her attention to the task at hand. "Good thing too, since I'm sure the Golden Order would've decimated more of our lands if I hadn't."
"You took part in the Liurnian Wars?" he asked, equal parts skeptical and excited. That history was ancient, with few left alive to tell the tale of what happened during a war so far back in history.
Once again, the Carian princess nodded. "I did," she confirmed. "I was commander of the Northern Reaches, at the border between Liurnia and Altus. When my father was killed, I eventually took control of all Caria's standing armies."
"What happened to him anyway?" he questioned. "Your father, I mean. I haven't been able to find almost any record of his deeds or accomplishments."
She went still as the words came out of his mouth, her hands abruptly halting in their motion. They remained clenched, but otherwise held onto the tools. A silence fell over them as the question lingered in the air, only the sound of gentle waves in the background filling the empty void.
For a second, Parvus worried he might have overstepped his bounds with her, wandering into an area he was not welcome. They had only known each other for three days at this point, and their first interaction was hardly what one would call 'friendly'.
"He, uh," she started, breaking the uncomfortable tension between them, "he died. Radagon executed him during the Second Battle of Bellum."
The Tarnished drew in a sharp breath. Radagon. Ex-husband of Rennala and second consort of Marika. The father of his mistress and one of his final obstacles before his ascension to Elden Lord. There was much that could be attributed to him, so, so many terrible things that were the cause of his actions, or lack thereof. The splintering of Liurnia's power, the shattering of Queen Rennala's psyche, the war of succession that was the Shattering, all of them were the result of his actions. Were it not for him, and his scheming with Marika, these lands wouldn't be as fucked up as they were, with an equally fucked-up family squabbling and resorting to infighting.
Parvus didn't know the man personally, only having the pleasure of coming face-to-face with him inside the Erdtree itself, but he was aware of enough history to know he hated the man and all he had done. No family should have to go through what his mistress and her relatives all suffered due to his negligence. No family should be thinking of their siblings and stepsiblings as rivals, as enemies. He must've been a shitty enough father that there wasn't even one shred of remorse between any of them when the Elden Ring shattered and they all scrambled for the remains.
"I'm sorry," he apologized profusely, doing his damnedest to share his condolences with her. "I didn't mean to bring up such a bad memory. I-I wasn't even aware that such a horrible thing could happen to him…"
He looked down, now too embarrassed to look at her for bringing back what was most assuredly a painful memory. The tension returned in force, awkward silence once again filling the void between them. He couldn't bring himself to face her, knowing that he might've accidentally reopened old wounds or forced her to relive faded traumas.
A hand gently touched his shoulder, leather brushing against the fur cloak mounted to it. It felt light, feminine, one grounded in understanding and forgiveness.
He raised his head up, eyes meeting Rellana's. They held not the feeling of anger or pain, not as he had feared, but of acceptance and understanding.
"It's okay, Parvus," she said, his name rolling off her tongue like honey. "You didn't know."
"But it's still your father we're talking about," he highlighted, still regretful of bringing up what must've been a melancholic moment in her life. "I should've known better than to bring up what must've been a painful memory for you."
"I know," she agreed. "And it was. But it also happened so long ago that the pain has almost dulled."
"Almost," he echoed. "That means it still hurts."
"The memories of your loved ones will always hurt," she said, her eyes not leaving his. "But it is better to live and carry their legacy than wallow in them. It's one of the many things that he taught me when I was young."
"He sounded wise," Parvus noted.
Rellana's eyes crinkled, a sparkle of happiness, or perhaps nostalgia from memories long ago, passing before her sight. "He was," she acknowledged with a soft touch of fondness in her voice. "Had to be after our mother died."
"She's gone as well?" he asked, his voice low at the idea of bringing up yet another bad memory to the knightess.
Rellana nodded. "Killed by a some sort of ailment that damaged her lungs. A few apothecaries believed it may have been an extremely mild strain of Scarlet Rot. One thought it was Deathblight. I believe it was much simpler than that, a sort of cancer."
Parvus swallowed nervously as he took in the information, giving her a sympathetic look. "That's horrible," he voiced his thoughts. "I'm sorry about that."
"Don't be," she told him. "It happened long ago, well before either of us knew the other existed."
She withdrew her hand from his shoulder, returning them to their original positions, and began striking the flint and steel once more. She drew her gaze back to the task at hand.
A strange silence fell over them as she worked, the awkwardness of learning how both of her parents had died filling the air. He had no words to describe how he felt, only guilt at the idea of trudging up the past in a rather unseemly way. It was an unfortunate mistake he made from time to time in the pursuit of knowledge, barging into people's lives and forcing them to relive their pasts, much of which was painful or sad. This world was already cruel enough as it was. He didn't want add more to it if he could help it.
"And what of you?" she asked, breaking the silence between them with a simple question.
He looked up at her once more, confusion plastering his face. "Huh?"
"What type of man are you?" she continued asking. "I've yet to know of what type of Tarnished my niece has chosen as her consort. You must be someone special if she has taken an interest in letting you into her circle of trust."
He shrugged, his shoulders relaxing as the awkward tension dissipated once again. "Like I told Gaius yesterday, I can't explain why. I had only emerged from the Stranded Graveyard for a few hours, barely knowing where I even was, when she appeared to me while I was rest at the Church of Elleh. Came at night too, sitting on a pillar with the moon silhouetting her head."
Rellana snorted as she heard the description. "Yeah, that sounds like her. Was always one for dramatic showmanship and fancy displays."
"Wait, she's always been like that?" he asked incredulously. This was news to him.
Now the Carian swordswoman smirked. "Yep. Don't know where she gets it from. Might be her mother. I suspect it's her father, though."
"Don't tell her that," the Tarnished warned her. "She despises him enough as it is."
"And why is tha-"
Before she could finish her question, a small flash of flame lit up before them, enough to smolder and create cinders. Working quickly, the Carian knightess leaned forward, moving to her knees as she blew on the sparks. Her hands cupped around the embers gentle, shielding the baby flame from the gusts of ocean wind and doing her best to funnel oxygen into it at a specific angle.
Parvus moved next to her, cupping his hands above hers and blowing on it as well. Air came out gently, but in constant streams, as they both willed the flame to life.
Their combined efforts paid off when suddenly the flame ignited, consuming the kindling and spreading to the rest of the wood. They both reached off to the side, grabbing logs of their own, before placing them over the fire, creating a sort of mini-tent for it.
The fire continued to grow, orange flames poking out from the sides and feeding on more wood presented to it. Smoke floated up in the air, carried off by the ocean breeze away from them.
A minute passed as they put the final touches into what would become a very healthy fire, one that could generate heat without threatening to spread out of control.
Parvus blew out a breath of relief. "Finally," he groaned.
The Tarnished leaned back, his butt plopping against the ground. He leaned back, a nearby log acting as a support for him as he made to relax.
He heard a sigh just like his come from the Twin-Moon Knight as she did made to do the same, placing her back against the same log and uncurling her legs. They couldn't extend all the way without dipping into the firepit, but she took what she got, letting her legs rest next to it.
For a while they just sat in silence, letting the crackle of burning wood mix in with the swish of rolling water and background effects of the Cerulean Coast. Crickets could be heard chirping, the faint winks of fireflies showing off in the distance. The sun finally set beyond the horizon, giving way to a deep blue sky. Stars twinkled above and the moon could be seen peeking behind the partially-cloudy sky. Moonlight basked the land around them in a white-blue glow, giving off a level of serenity that belied its mystery and danger.
Sensing that things were winding down, he reached up, unclasping the fasteners under his helmet. They clicked as the bands came loose, allowing him to grasp his protective gear and lift it off of his head. The black metal came off, warmth from the fire hitting the skin on his face. It was intermittently mixed in with small touches of sea salt wind, a concoction of both so as to prevent one from overpowering the other.
He drew in a steady breath and slowly exhaled, his lungs measured and controlled as he slowed his heartbeat to a relaxed rhythm. His eyes focused on the night sky, witnessing twinkling stars and the serene darkness between them. They were so far away, yet influenced him and the Lands Between as much as any beast or demigod. It was hard to grasp at times.
"I'll never get tired of this," he whispered to no one in particular.
"Tired of what?" he heard Rellana ask softly.
"This," he answered, gesturing to the sky above them, "the night sky, seeing the wonders of the universe before our eyes, and the mysteries within. The calm of the Moon and Stars, so to speak."
"I get what you mean," she agreed. "There is always something majestic about seeing both in the sky, complementing one another in their grandeur."
He heard rustling to his side and turned his head. Rellana's gloved hands were reaching up to the gorget around her neck. Her fingers moved nimbly, sliding across the protective steel smoothly as they reached in the gap between her neck guard and helmet. He heard pinching and snapping as what were most likely fasteners came undone.
Her fingers came out from the gap in her armor, grasping the edges of the steel instead. With a firm tug, it lifted up, the visor and grille sliding past her head. The ponytail lifted with it, confirming that it was a part of the headpiece instead of grown naturally.
Parvus craned his neck as he bore witness to the face of his companion for the first time. Her helmet came away to reveal smooth, light skin, not quite ivory like her sister Rennala, but still closer to the side of pale. Hair as black as midnight flowed from her scalp and down the back of her neck where it joined the ponytail that was attached to the helmet. It unfurled as her helmet came away, showing that only part of lengthened knot of hair was fake. The hair streamed down her back, elaborate and almost as long as the ponytail itself. It was wavy, neither straight nor curly, flowing like water and glistening against the moonlight.
Her skin looked surprisingly soft, similar but not the same as the Carian Queen. Her face was diamond-shaped, with wider but rounder cheeks, pointed chin, and defined jaw. Rellana's bangs revealing that her hairline parted to the right. She had pink lips, supple but with a hint of roughness at the edges, like she spent more of her time frowning or giving cold stares than not. Her eyelashes were long, luxurious, and surprisingly well-maintained. Her eyebrows were thin, even, trimmed, and groomed. All of these features added together to highlight the radiance of her blue eyes, shining like pure sorcery and the edges of the moon itself.
He stared in complete and total awe at the godlike visage of femineity and womanhood before him. He had a strong feeling that all women in the Carian Royal Family were lookers, as their position dictated that they looked as good as they could possibly be. He had seen Rennala and the faded beauty that she must've been before her heart had shattered and she had lost virtually all sense of self-determination. He was aware that Ranni, even in only her doll form, was engrossing, mostly likely because she still wanted a resemblance of herself in her new host-body. He had assumed the same would be the same for the Twin-Moon Knight.
They did not prepare him in the least bit for what he now saw. Not only was she very much like both Carian women, but she was somehow more than either. She was a combination of inherent strength born from years of fighting and training, and beauty that could put most maidens to shame. Despite her age, she still looked like she was in her twenties, thirty at the best. She also did not look at all like a fighter, more of an assassin or spy, someone who would be more involved in politics and intrigue than on the battlefield. Maybe that's why she wore the helmet as often as she did: so people would take her more seriously.
But he already knew better to assume she was just a pretty face. She had pushed him to his limits in swordplay and magic, almost brought him to his knees with the power of Twin Moons spell. She could easily cleave him in two if he let her.
"Is something the matter, Tarnished?" she asked, snapping him out of his trance. He noticed that she referred to his status with sharpness in her tone.
He blinked, shaking his head briefly as he realized how intensely he must've been staring at her. Oh crap, he panicked in his head. I didn't really just stare at her like a damsel or maiden in spring, did I?
The neutral look in her eyes made it hard to tell if he was, simply boring into him and waiting for him to respond.
He swallowed. "No," he answered, "just, uh, just wasn't expecting you to look like…"
"Like what?" Her eyes stared at him intently, her eyes not even hinting at any emotions she might be having. That was in stark contrast to how he must've looked. And how he certainly felt.
"…this." He trailed off at his one-word answer, failing to conjure any other way to describe what exactly was going through his mind. How could he tell her that she looked like a queen, a goddess, more so than her sister or Queen Marika herself? He had always recognized beauty, that many of the women in the Lands Between could hold the attention of numerous men. But he had never had such a reverence for any of them.
Not until now, that was. How could he possibly tell her that he now understood those other men, that there was real, objective beauty in the world, that there was a perfect standard for everyone, that she was that for him right now? There was just no way he could do that without instantly coming off as a man who was unrealistically infatuated with someone he'd only known a few days.
Her eyes narrowed at him for that, clearly unhappy with the chosen response. "This is why I don't like taking off my helmet in front of most people," she muttered, her lips sinking into a frown.
His eyes widened at the realization of what she meant. "I'm sorry, my lady," he stammered, falling back on cordial honorifics instead of anything else, fearing he may say something he'd regret. "I-I meant no offense at the way I looked at you."
"Stared," she pointed out, her tone lower to show her dissatisfaction. "You've been staring at me like I'm some sort of unassuming maiden or pretty eye-candy."
"I realize that too. And I'm sorry for appearing to make you believe I think of you that way," he continued to apologize. He broke eye contact with her, staring down into his lap in shame. "I just… haven't seen anyone quite like you, that's all."
The pair fell into awkward silence as he let the words hang in the air. Gods, what was he thinking? Did he really expect a woman like her, one who was the right-hand of Messmer himself, to just let him get away with such a suggestive look? He should've been aware that she was a woman of action, one who didn't probably want to be associated with women of the courts, royalty, or maidenhood. She was a Knight, a woman-at-arms. She deserved respect.
He glanced up at her from the corner of his eye. She was looking away, arms crossed, her frown transformed into a scowl as she furled her eyebrows. But her cheeks were also slightly red, like she was blushing. What was that about?
"Is it so wrong to stare upon beauty?" he whispered.
She blinked, turning her head to look at him. "Do you actually think of me that way?"
Parvus turned his head, once more making eye contact with the Carian princess. He swallowed nervously, thinking about his next words carefully. "Would it be wrong to say that I do?"
She snorted. "No," the woman answered, "but it would be improper."
He scrunched an eye in confusion. "Improper?" he repeated. "Why?"
"I am Messmer's sword," she said. "I gave up everything for his cause. For him. I am an extension of his will, his hand, his needs and desires…"
What did she mean by…?, he thought before it suddenly clicked.
Oh.
"Is that why you gave up your birthright?" he asked, his curiosity now overriding his fear of offending or disrespecting her. "For him? Because you have something with him…"
She looked away, nodding almost imperceptibly. Strangely, her eyes looked like they glistened, like she was holding back tears.
But he dared not ask why. Whatever she had with Messmer was none of his business. Now he doubled down on the guilt, regretting telling her what he thought of her. He didn't want to come between whatever special bond they had, no matter what felt. Far too much had been brought to ruin by selfish desires. He would not see himself add to that tally.
"I'm sorry for intruding on whatever you have with him then," he bowed his head shamefully. "I should've known better."
She said nothing, only nodding in acknowledgement.
The fire continued to crackle as the night continued on, the moon rising into the sky. It left a mystifying view of all its light shined upon. From the mountains and hills to the seas and beaches, from rocks to trees, everything and everyone became cast in an ethereal light.
It was no wonder that the Carian family used it as the symbol of their house. It encompassed everything about them, their mastery of sorcery, their calming nature in opposition to the Erdtree, their cooler aesthetic. And it only highlighted their beauty even more.
He reached over to the dwindling pile of wood, placing another two logs into the firepit, before leaning back, making his spine more horizontal with the log and ground. Though he was always on edge when camping alone, he was always prepared enough to spring into action should anyone try to attack him.
Parvus reached to wrap his cloak around himself, bundling the fur around his body like a wrapping. Once again he was grateful for Blaidd. He only hoped he could do right for the Half-Wolf's mistress, in his memory.
"If not else," he spoke one more time, "I hope you forgive me for my transgressions. Good night, Rellana."
The Tarnished turned to his side, facing away from her, unwilling to face her after knowing what he had said, what he had done. This day couldn't have ended any worse.
As he drifted off to sleep, he glanced over his shoulder one last time. Rellana continued to stare into the waves across the way, watching the moonlight ripple across the surface. Wind brushed against her hair, framing her face in a way that made her look impossibly dazzling, engrossing, gorgeous.
He turned away once more, shutting his eyes, willing himself to sleep, hoping that it would help him forget the damper mood he had brought between them.
A/N: Rellana's description is based entirely on a doodle drawn by 'breebunn' on X. You can find it here - /breebunn/status/1810910202629345579?lang=gu