Maidenless No Longer (Elden Ring)

A/N: Here we are guys. This is the final chapter of Maidenless No Longer and what I consider to be the 'True Ending'. Hope you've all enjoyed the ride with me so far!

That said, if you've enjoyed reading this story and want to hop on board my next story right at the moment of its conception, please check out The Soul Engine for me! It just started today and I'm really excited for it~

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“Thou’rt… beginning… to try… my patience!”
 
“Haaah… only beginning? Thou hast tried MY patience since the first day! Still, thy shouldst… feel free to retire the field… any time!”
 
As they huff and puff, both of them covered in glistening sweat, both of them exhausted but unwilling to admit it, Queen Marika the Eternal and Lunar Princess Ranni glare at each other angrily, neither willing to give up ground before the other. Neither of them was willing to concede defeat, where the other still proclaimed themselves victorious and strong.
 
Hm, if their loved ones had known that it would turn out like this, would they have arranged this situation in the first place? Possibly not. But also… probably even still. After all, it was not enough that he be the bridge between two Goddesses. No, not when the Goddesses were doing everything in their power to avoid dealing with one another at every junction.
 
It had been over a year since Marika was healed, the Elden Beast beaten, and the Elden Ring reforged. A year and some change since he had taken the throne as Tarnished Lord. And in all that time, this was the first moment in which Marika and Ranni had spent longer than five minutes in the same room together. All because, ultimately, they could not possibly show weakness in front of the other.
 
This encounter had been arranged by Melina and Rennala of course. Conspiring together, the two women had worked to trick Marika and Ranni into this room, into this moment. As far as the Goddesses were concerned, they were supposed to have him all to themselves. They were supposed to be getting some quality alone time with their Lord Husband, in an effort to begin creating the next progeny from their august bodies.
 
Both of them had given birth by now. In fact, every one of the Tarnished Lord’s wives, as well as some more women besides, had given birth by this point. Over a dozen little tykes, born of the epitome of Human Potential, with all of the advantages in life one could possibly want for their children. But while both Marika and Ranni were happy with the children that their husband had given them, they were equally eager to be the first to get pregnant the second go around.
 
It was that eagerness that Rennala and Melina had played off of, in the end. It was that drive to win that had allowed the two more submissive women to trick the Goddesses into booking the same block of time with him. And it was their sheer stubbornness that had kept either of the two of them from actually backing off when they’d both shown up at his chambers and realized they were both expecting to have sex with him at the same time.
 
Of course, hours later… the two Goddesses were already well and truly bred. Both Marika and Ranni have been filled with his essence half a dozen times over… apiece. They’re not just covered in sweat, but in a number of other bodily fluids from the multiple couplings they’ve engaged in with their husband. He’s filled them, he’s coated them, he’s… well, they’d probably rather never talk about some of the things they’ve done in these past several hours ever again.
 
They were really absolutely terrible for each other. Like a drug that neither could get enough of. Once they truly got together, they egged one another on, pushing the rivalry and the competition ever further, until both Goddesses had done… things they weren’t proud of. Unclean things. Things that had left them unquestionably sore in their backsides.
 
Even now though, even now neither of them were willing to give up. Laid out on the bed on either side of his cock, both Marika and Ranni have a hand apiece wrapped around his shaft, stroking him up and down as they glare at each other from around the side of his large girth. Ranni has even snuck a second hand of her four down to his balls, but Marika has yet to notice yet. It’s only a matter of time though.
 
They look at him… and he looks back, a smile on his lips, warmth and affection in his eyes. For he is their husband, and this… this has been his story.
 
… He doesn’t remember his own name. They call him the Tarnished. Well, these days they call him the Tarnished Lord, but still. Even if he wanted to, even if they asked, if they begged… he couldn’t tell them, what he had been called all that time ago. In a similar way, he did not recall his original history either.
 
Was he one of Lord Godfrey’s original soldiers, exiled from the Lands Between and then returned to it after so long without grace? Or was he a descendant of one of those soldiers, called because of the Tarnished blood that flowed through him? He honestly couldn’t say. Much… much was lost to him over time.
 
You didn’t really think about that sort of thing, on a general basis. Your own name. It was your name, wasn’t it? How could you possibly forget it? But at the same time, names were only words in the wind. Hearing someone else address you by your name… was a great way to keep those words on the wind where they belonged, in your head.
 
Unfortunately, he was never very good with words. That was something about his original self that he remembered. Or… thought he remembered, anyways. He was absolutely terrible with words. He was confident he’d tried explaining, the first several times through. Waking up in that Church again and again, trying to work it all out, trying to get the best ending for all involved.
 
In the beginning, it’d been about Melina. His kindling maiden. When she’d first burnt up, he’d been horrified. But he’d carried on, as she would have wanted. He’d carried on, reached the end of the road… and become Elden Lord. Elden Lord of an Age of Fracture. Sat upon the Elden Throne, he’d been so lonely he’d wanted to scream.
 
And then he’d done it again. Funnily enough, he didn’t quite remember how it started at this point, only that it had, and only that saving Melina had been his original priority. And it hadn’t even been all that hard, either. Using the Frenzied Flame, and then the needle, while convincing Melina to stay rather than leave… it truly wasn’t that difficult at all.
 
Perhaps a thousand do-overs to get it figured out? Ten-thousand, maybe? A drop in the bucket, in the end. He’d saved her, but when that next ending came, when he and Melina stood side by side and hand in hand… he’d realized that it was still incomplete. In those ten-thousand do-overs, he’d made friends. He’d found lovers. He’d created bonds and eventually come to realize that Melina… Melina was far from the only woman in the Lands Between who needed saving.
 
Whether they all deserved it or not, he could care less. The Tarnished Lord did not consider himself a good man. No, he was simply a man. Neither good nor evil. He couldn’t stop himself from caring. He couldn’t stop himself from hunting for ways to give each and every one of his bonds a happy ending. In doing so though, he expanded his knowledge of the Lands Between and lost all memory of what came before it. As he’d come to realize, words weren’t enough, and so he stopped using them.
 
In the end, what people really responded to… were actions. And so, the Tarnished had shown his purpose through his actions. But in doing so, he had stopped giving the bonds he created his name. To him, he was the silent warrior, and in some cases their silent savior. A Tarnished of no renown, to be sure. It was easy, to lose his original self. Easy to one day wake up in that Church and remember the names of everyone he intended to save, but not his own.
 
And… easy enough to get over it as well. Because what did his original identity matter in the end? If it would help him make sure that everyone he cared about got their happy endings, he would gladly sacrifice that and so much more.
 
So, he had. He’d sacrificed, and suffered, and traveled every last inch of the Lands Between, above and below. He had studied and examined and ultimately explored more of the continent then any before him. Eventually, he felt as if he knew all there was to know. He’d found everyone he wanted to save, scouring the Lands Between in order to make sure he didn’t miss a single being worthy of his attention, of his focus.
 
Gone were the days when he cared only about saving Melina, his kindling maiden. Oh, he would always care for her deeply, and would always save her without question… but he had so many more to save as well.
 
That had been the beginning of the hard part. It wasn’t as simple as making sure everyone got their happy ending… because more often than not, their happy endings contradicted each other. He had developed deep, ever-lasting love for numerous women who were incredibly at odds with one another. And through his research, through his exploration, he had even come to understand each and every one of their grievances, why their needs ran counter to each other, and how they would never work together… under normal circumstances.
 
But he hadn’t come as far as he had, to give up that easily. As his favorite Pastor liked to say, heresy was little more than a contrivance. ALL things could be conjoined. That had, in a way, become his mantra. He refused to give in. He wanted to save everyone. He truly did.
 
… Even then, he’d still failed, and right at the finish line too. How many times, had he tried to find a way to bring Hyetta along on his final journey, without losing Irina first? How many times? But no… it simply wasn’t possible. Hyetta could not exist without Irina’s death. And he refused to let Irina die so that Hyetta could live.
 
His last do-over, before this one, he’d let himself be weak. He’d let Hyetta have one last run of it. And even that… even that had ended in tragedy, rather than the bittersweet ending he’d intended for their time together. It all went to show how much of a fool he was, even now.
 
All that said, he’d done it. This wasn’t the longest past the Elden Beast’s death that he’d let the world continue turning without going back to the beginning. A year and some change? Hah, a paltry sum in the grand scheme of things. He had lived out endings like this one more times than he could count. Except… none were quite like this one.
 
Because this was it. This was his magnum opus. His Perfect Run. He could feel it. This time was the last time, hopefully. The last time he would have to go back to the beginning, to relive meeting all of his favorite, beloved people for the first time. The last time he would have to slowly but surely intertwine everyone’s wants and needs and desires together, and carefully show them that they could all have what they wanted, if they just fucking learned to get along.
 
Yes, he could feel it in his bones. His altogether mortal, human bones. But of course, he was more than that now, wasn’t he? The Tarnished Lord. In truth, he wasn’t sure where the Elden Ring ended, and he began anymore. He’d helped reforge different versions of it a million times.
 
He’d added and kept back every possible Rune and combination of Runes under the sun. He’d played with every outcome, tried every possibility. In doing so, he’d brought a little bit of every single Elden Ring he’d reforged along with him, into the new timelines, into the do-overs and restarts.
 
This was the way it needed to be though. This was the way they all got their happy endings. With a surety that nestles itself firmly in his somewhat hollow soul, the Tarnished Lord lets out a quiet breath and smiles…
 
… Only to realize, he has two Goddesses staring up at him with wide eyes that narrow the moment his attention is focused back on them again. Oh. He’d gotten so caught up in his own thoughts that he’d forgotten to pretend he was at least half as winded as both of them. And from the looks on their faces, it’s far too late for him to go back to pretending that he’s tired now. No, they’ve caught him red-handed. Heh, been a long time since he went so deep in his own mind that he didn’t pay attention to his surroundings like that. Whoops.
 
“Thou’rt… fresh as ever, husband?”
 
“Thy needs… still unfulfilled, even now?”
 
Ranni and Marika both look as if they’ve sucked particularly sour lemons, as they glance between one another, having to look past his twitching, throbbing member in order to do so. When they look back up at him, clearly expecting a response… he just shrugs. He’s far from tired, tis true. Honestly, he’s not sure what it would take to exhaust him, these days. What women like Melina and Rennala saw when they looked at his power… it was like the tip of a sword’s pommel, with the sword and much of its hilt buried deep beneath the sand.
 
He wasn’t sure exactly WHEN he’d broken through the limits of his full potential, but it’d been a long time ago… and almost as long since he’d realized that even women such as Melina, Rennala, Ranni, and Marika, could no longer see the true breadth of his power… and that their blindness was for the best.
 
Indeed, even now, as his beloved Goddesses realize how outclassed they are before him, at least in bed, the Tarnished Lord worries that he might have to go back and do it all over again anyways. If they react too poorly, he might not be able to fix things… he might have to start over. He might-
 
And then Marika and Ranni surprise him, by exchanging a begrudging look of acknowledgement with one another.
 
“… Twould seem that we hath no choice, Queen Marika.”
 
“… Thou speaketh the truth, Lunar Princess Ranni.”
 
They turn their gazes up at him, more determined than he’s ever seen either of them, truth be told.
 
“If we are to conquer the monster in our midst, we must band together.”
 
“… Indeed. Thou hath the right of it.”
 
Oh. That was… new. Marika and Ranni willingly choosing to work together personally, in concert, on a joint project? It seemed he could still encounter new things, new occurrences, even now. Or rather, perhaps he should expect to encounter more and more new events now that he was at the end of his Perfect Run.
 
Relaxing imperceptibly, even to the two Goddesses before him, the Tarnished Lord gives them his broadest smile… which of course, being the sort of women they are, they take as a challenge, blushing and sputtering and scowling cutely, each in their own way, before moving in close and starting to work together to tackle him for the first time in his long, long memory.
 
Appropriate, really. Just the other day, he heard that people had finally come up with a name for this new Age. For a long time, it had languished nameless, as nobody at the top had any idea what the hell to call it. But, as always happens when those in charge waffle about for too long, those at the bottom had eventually come up with their own choice. And frankly, he quite liked it.
 
As Marika and Ranni begin to work together, the Tarnished smiles, reaching up to run his hands through their locks and bring their mouths closer to his shaft. Yes, twas quite appropriate. For this… this was…
 
The Age of Reconciliation.

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