Chapter Text
Blaidd paced in the Evergaol in Limgrave, his armored feet hitting the imbued stone of the prison was the only sound echoing into the stale air. His time spent in the jail felt blurred, as he was unable to discern the difference between night and day while he was imprisoned. Any glimpse to the outside world was prevented by the magic that surrounded and protected the Evergaol.
Blaidd’s thoughts were interrupted by an eruption of coughing rising from his lungs; his sore throat a painful reminder of when he was first incarcerated and he spent hours (or days, Blaidd was unsure) howling, hoping anyone would hear him. Hoping that the Tarnished would hear him.
All that he had with him was the memory of them, the Tarnished, and their last hours together. The only thing keeping his mind from escaping him in the prison was the thought of his companion, though even then, his thoughts ran scattered from stress. He wondered if they would ever find him here, locked away like a misbehaved mutt. Or if he was doomed to spend the rest of his days pacing along the circular cell, barking madly and falling deeper and deeper in a mad spiral. Reduced to what Iji thought he was: a rabid dog, biting at the bars of his cage.
Like Darriwill, he bitterly thought to himself. How fitting it would be that Iji threw him away in the Bloodhound Knight’s Evergaol. He stared at his hands, ignoring the crusted blood underneath his claws.
Blaidd was glad then, at the very least, he was able to put an end to that horrid sorcerer before the troll blacksmith locked him away.
Days, or even weeks may have passed before the Tarnished found him. They ran up to the Evergaol without hesitation, immediately dropping their weapon and pressing their hand against the glowing blue barrier, but not yet entering the cell. The Tarnished saw Blaidd sitting at the furthest curve, tracing the old blood stains in the stone lazily with a clawed finger. He turned to the Tarnished after noticing the movement out of his periphery, eyes narrowing before he recognized the familiar form. He rose to his full height and strode to meet the Tarnished at the edge of the Evergaol.
Blaidd placed his large hands on the cerulean, translucent wall to hold himself up. One of his hands overlaid the Tarnished’s, though unintentional on his behalf.
Their shape was rippled and distorted by the magic between them. He imagined he looked the same from their view, warped, because he could see their brows furrow under their helmet and their eyes squint.
“Oh, it's you...It's me, Blaidd. Old Iji trapped me here…” He let out a ragged sigh, “Told me I'd bring nought but bale to Lady Ranni...” He shook his head, and chuckled hoarsely; a raspy, short noise.
“But there's no chance that could happen,” He continued in a fatigued tone, “I'm part of her being. Her very shadow... I thought old Iji knew as much…” Blaidd’s voice faded off into a mere whisper. “Honestly, I don't know what's going on anymore…”
“Blaidd…” Their warbled voice sounded through the Evergaol, and they pressed their hand into the barrier until it gave, and the sorcery was broken. Their hand, now no longer separated by the barrier, met with his own, giving Blaidd the first real contact he had had since Iji placed him here. Just as their hands met, however, Blaidd tore his away to pull his sword from its sheath.
“My thanks, friend. I'm going to see mistress Ranni, now. I don't know what came over old Iji, but even if the odds are slim, I need to check if the mistress is safe.” His words felt foreign on his dry tongue. They did not belong to him, yet they were leaving his mouth, making him feel like a puppet.
“Blaidd, wait–” The Tarnished held up their hands to stop him, but Blaidd pushed past to leave his former companion standing shocked among the grasses and stone clusters around the Evergaol.
“I mustn't delay, so Ranni can finally set in motion the fight against her fate she's dreamt of for so long…”
Blaidd’s trek from Limgrave to the furthest corners of Liurnia, where Ranni kept herself near the Carian castle, was long and arduous. Blaidd scarcely had his wits about him, forgetting when he needed to meet his most basic needs and instead favoring to move forwards; to fulfill his duty to his mistress.
When he finally found himself upon Ranni’s rise, he collapsed on the stone steps, onto his hands and knees, head swirling and fuzzy with exhaustion and borderline hysteria. When he somewhat regained his senses, he shakily stood and stared blankly into the misty landscape. His mind felt halved. Like his consciousness was being shredded and ripped apart by an unseen force. His vision began blurring as he looked out into the hills, his hands rising to rub at his aching head.
Between sharp, throbbing pains in his head, Blaidd noticed the swift movement of figures in the distance. He was unable to discern their identity as they rushed closer, but he nonetheless unsheathed his sword from its cover.
When the figures came close enough for Blaidd to discern them, one of them launched itself at him, a dark dagger aimed at his throat. Instinct took over, and he dodged the attack by swiftly side stepping. The remnants of his mind foggily pieced together what they were: assassins, sent to kill his mistress, Ranni. Of course. Here to ruin his only purpose; his very reason of being. He had to be there for her. He had to. In the edges of his mind, he could feel the creeping presence of something else, like fingers reaching into its depths.
A perverse concoction of fear and rage overtook his consciousness and his eyesight tinged with red. He began attacking the silver silhouettes of the assassins, taking massive swings of his greatsword that left chilling waves of frost in their wake. The assassins flitted about like moths, but their deftness and dexterity were outmatched to his brute, unrestrained strength, and soon they fell around him. Their lucent armor and wispy cloaks spiraled to the ground like bleeding, silver leaves.
When the encounter was over and the blood rushing through his veins slowed, he was surrounded by the still-seeping bodies of the assassins, torn apart by his strikes.
The only sound hanging in the air after was the ragged, feral breaths leaving Blaidd’s lungs as his chest heaved. He looked at the assassins surrounding them, noticing the pointed centipede-like shape of their dark daggers that were still firmly grasped by silver hands. Black Knives, he recognized, by their unique, death-imbued weapons and near-ethereal appearances.
Blaidd’s mind clouded with confusion, and he felt the creeping feeling crawling under his skin into his thoughts. The Black Knife Assassins worked under Ranni’s guiding word, Blaidd was sure of that, so why were they sent to her tower? Were they sent to him?
Were they sent for him?
Blaidd was so lost within himself, he failed to hear the footsteps behind him as he muttered to himself, “No… I am part of her very being! I could never betray her!” He murmured between exasperated gulps of air, “No matter what might happen... Ranni... She needs me…”
“...Blaidd?” A familiar yet distant voice called out to him, and his head whipped around.
There, the Tarnished stood in the archway to Ranni’s tower. They looked upon his hunched form, once tall and welcoming, but now looked unhinged. He looked broken. They saw the bodies surrounding him in a red halo and the scarlet dripping down his blade; staining the grass. Drool fell from his spittle-soaked maw.
They said his name again, a pained whisper that barely broke through the thrum of blood in Blaidd’s ears and the heaving of his own lungs. Why was the Tarnished here? What purpose did they have with his mistress? Were they here to kill her too?
Were they here to kill him? They must be. Iji must’ve goaded them into it, they must’ve abandoned his ward, abandoned the pursuit of the fate that hung in the stars, abandoned him, Blaidd’s scattered mind roughly concluded. Without warning or further thought, he lunged at the Tarnished, his wide jaws open in a snarl and his sword heavy above his head.
He swung down, but the Tarnished expertly evaded the attack. Blaidd was pulling back from the movement, attempting to tear his frost-encrusted greatsword from the ground wildly, but the Tarnished refused to take it as an opportunity to strike.
Blaidd’s crazed eyes darted from his sword to their face, and he saw the blanched look on their face.
When his sword was free, he made another attempt to attack them, to which they once again dodged. Every swing he took at them they moved away from, but they refused to fight back.
Blaidd noticed their expression went from one of confusion to an incredulous anger as his repeated blows failed to hit them.
“Stop, Blaidd! What are you doing?” They cried out, but Blaidd was unable to respond even if he wanted to, electing instead to growl as he paced around them animalistically; clawed hands digging into the cold earth as he circled the Tarnished. His face was distorted: his lips were drawn back in a toothy growl and his ears were pinned back against his head.
“Please, Blaidd, listen to me…” They threw their weapon to the side, letting it hit the frosty grass with a light hud. Blaidd’s eyes moved from the weapon that laid on the ground back to the Tarnished. They slowly put their hands out in front of them in gentle caution, “You are in there, I know you are, just listen to me…”
For a moment, Blaidd halted in his prowling. His ears swiveled and he stopped gnashing his teeth. For a moment, Blaidd saw them, the Tarnished.
They put their hands down to their side, seeing that they were seemingly able to get through to him. They let a deep sigh of relief flow into the air, and began walking to the wolven warrior, “Blaidd, I–”
His expression reverted once more to a feral display and he launched himself at the Tarnished. They fell backwards as his hands made contact with their armored chest, and the two of them were sent tumbling backwards, down the hills of the Three Sisters.
When the entangled pair of warriors finally slowed, the Tarnished was on top of the half-wolf and weakly holding him down. They felt his hot, ragged exhales fog the space between them and warm their face.
His hands reached towards them, clawing at their form above him and biting at them while they struggled to keep him pinned. Blaidd then felt a sharp pain pierce his chestplate, and the snarl warping his face faded as the pain bloomed in his chest. He looked down with fuzzy vision and saw the Tarnished’s hands wrapped tightly around the hilt of a gilt dagger that was hilted deep within his armor.
Drops fell onto where his armor and their blade met, and Blaidd, with blurred eyesight and raspy, ragged breathing, looked up at the Tarnished. Their hair fell over their face, sticking to a sweat-soaked forehead. He looked at their face, and saw the source of the droplets hitting the dulled metal of his chestplate.
Fat, lustrous tears gathered in the Tarnished’s lashes, shining like silver against their bloodshot eyes and spilling onto his armor. Their expression was broken, with ugly rivers of snot dripping onto their mouth and smearing with the blood splatters on their face. Beyond the ringing in his ears, Blaidd heard exasperated sobs leaving their mouth in distraught fragments. They were mouthing something, but Blaidd could not hear it beyond the searing pain of the dagger driving deeper into his chest.
Their hands abandoned the hilt of the dagger to reach up to his face with bloodied hands, no doubt his own blood. He felt their fingers bury themselves in the ashen fur of his cheeks, cradling his face softly and delicately, as if it might break at any moment. Their touch brought him a moment of clarity, and Blaidd saw past the cloud of anger, rage, and betrayal.
He met the Tarnished’s gaze with a cognizant one, and Blaidd was able to make out what they were saying between their crying, “--rry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m–”
Blaidd rasped out their name, a near-silent sound, and they breathed a sharp intake of air.
“Blaidd, I never w-wanted this to happen, I need you to know that, I, I, cannot lose y–”
“I know.” He whispered, and they sobbed again. Blaidd saw the corners of his sight filling with dark spots and the tips of his fingers were going numb with the blood loss. Yet he reached a clawed hand up to their face and let a thumb trace over one of their many scars; a pale divot in their cheek.
“Tell me of our next dinner, please.” Blaidd murmured out as if the Tarnished’s blade did not lie deep between his ribs and his blood was not staining their hands.
A small smile graced their lips, and they chuckled between hiccups. Tears were still streaming freely down their face as they spoke, “We will have boar, and–”
“Boar, eh?” Blaidd’s mouth curled into a shaky smirk, which earned a sniff and a laugh out of the Tarnished.
“Yes, I have figured how to trap them without their tusks tearing my armor…cooked with mushrooms, and herba leaves…” Their fingers brushed his fur gently while they spoke, “I found a merchant near the Academy that has a supply of boiled prawn…He is crude and, and vulgar but his prices are fair. You might’ve liked him…”
Sobs wracked their form as they began crying once more, yet they continued to speak through the tears, “We will eat under the stars, away from everyone and everything, and pick apart the cosmos together...” Their words were beginning to fail to reach his ears as Blaidd fell in and out of consciousness; the darkness at the edge of his vision eating away at it.
“-will be just us, Blaidd.”
“Just us?” Blaidd repeated as he weakly smiled up at them.
“Always.” They did not hesitate in their answer, allowing themselves to return his smile.
The Tarnished was never one for sentiments or tender promises, but they laid on top of the half-wolven warrior, cradling his face and whispering words into his fur that he would never hear and pressing soft kisses to his forehead that he would never feel.
The Tarnished remained like that with Blaidd for at least a couple of hours, or at least until they could not feel their legs and the blood coating their hands grew cold. Beyond the mist, they could see the sun setting behind the clouds, the rays dancing across the crystalline prisms of the Three Sisters and showering them with vibrant, warm light.
They stared at the glimmering horizon, watching the world in the Lands Between continue on.