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Chapter Text

It was a cool autumn evening in Lordran, the leaves were turning from green to fiery shades of red, orange, and gold. The shining city of Anor Londo sat silently nestled in its valley, it had been abandoned thirty years prior when Lord Gwyn went to the Kiln. The Dark Sun was the last deity to call the city home along with Dragonslayer Ornstein, Executioner Smough, and the Darkmoon Knightess Adria.

This evening Ornstein was alone in the sanctuary, he was restlessly pacing the upper balcony like a hungry beast on the prowl. This was his fourth straight watch, he'd been guarding the sanctuary for the past two days despite offers from the others to take over. In truth he didn't feel like resting, every time he closed his eyes he was haunted by the faces of his past. Nightmares of his long dead loved ones further worsened his insomnia and lately he'd resorted to drinking before bed to help him sleep. Only it backfired and he usually ended up hungover.

Gwyndolin stood at the entrance of the sanctuary watching Ornstein pace about. He was keenly aware of his fragile emotional state, many nights his cries could be heard when his nightmares bothered him. He tried his best to comfort him, but the lion knight was too stubborn to ask for help. Even in an empty city he tried to maintain the stoic disguise of the Dragonslayer. Yet underneath all that dingy golden armor was a broken man who would drink himself to sleep in his office.

Gwyndolin took a deep breath to steady himself, he had something rather important to do, and he hoped the lion knight wouldn't die from shock because of it. Walking into the sanctuary he looked up to see Ornstein leap over the balcony and land gracefully below. In a fluid motion he gave a polite bow as the young god approached. "Good evening, Lord Gwyndolin. Do you have a task for me?" He asked. Gwyndolin winced at his tone, he sounded exhausted. "You need only listen, then I want you to go and rest. I'll have someone to relieve you in a few minutes." He began. Ornstein simply nodded, "What is it you wanted to tell me?" He asked as he leaned on his spear slightly.

"I intend to invite one of the exiled Lords to return home. I'm not sure if they will accept, but I wish to show them the mercy they didn't get from our Lord." Gwyndolin began. In the century before the Lord of Sunlight linked the Flame there was unrest amongst the Lords. The creation of Demons, the spread of the Abyss, and the rise of the Undead caused them to rebel. Lord Gwyn banished several who riled up the humans against him and executed several others. "Who is it you have in mind?" Ornstein asked, already forming plans on how to deal with them should they be hostile.

"Farram." He replied. At that his mind went blank and his heart nearly stopped. The world around them grew eerily silent as if in remembrance of the banished son of Gwyn. Ornstein could hear the frantic fluttering of Gwyndolin's heart and the whispered hiss of his serpents as they expressed their anxiety. The clank of his armor was harsh in his ears, after a tense moment he realized the young god was waiting for a reply. "My feelings for him have not changed. I would be overjoyed at his return, but I have no say in the choices you make. You are the ruler of this land and I am merely a knight, my place is to serve you." He said quietly.

"Ornstein you are family, not just a simple knight. I've always seen you as my brother's equal and you shall be treated as such." Gwyndolin replied with a smile. At this the lion knight stood a little straighter, he could tell his words had an effect on him. "I already have a letter prepared to be delivered to him, we shall know in a week if he gets it." As he said this Smough appeared in the annex and walked towards them. With a bow he greeted Gwyndolin before taking up his post in the shadows of the balcony. "Now please, go rest Ornstein. I know you're tired, don't think I haven't noticed all the extra shifts you take." Gwyndolin said as he turned to leave. He could hear a faint set of footsteps behind him for a ways before they turned off towards another part of the cathedral.

..............

Ornstein was stretched out on the couch in his office staring up at the ceiling. His helmet, spear, gauntlets, and chest piece sat discarded on the floor nearby. Gwyndolin had told him to rest, but his mind just wouldn't let him. His thoughts kept going back to a long forgotten age, back when there were still dragons and he was the First Knight of Gwyn. He thought of his Lord and how his banishment had shattered him. Of how his friends loyally stood by him and helped him through.

It seemed like the world was taunting him, one by one it had taken everyone from him and left him without cause or purpose. Then it gave him a second chance to see his love again, it just seemed like it was too good to be true. He kept asking himself when he would wake up from this nightmare. But he knew it was all real. A sad look crossed his face as he realized how terrible Gwyndolin must've been feeling.

The young god tried so hard to earn the approval of his father, following his decrees with unfaltering faithfulness. But in time he saw that he would never be loved or accepted, to his father he was just an annoyance. His Lord had understood this and tried his best to raise Gwyndolin, teaching him to be selfless and kind. He even helped him with the founding of his own covenant the Darkmoon Blades. For the Dark Sun to go against the will of Lord Gwyn was heresy. But it also showed just how lonely he was and his desperation to see his family again.

With a tired sigh Ornstein closed his eyes and forced himself to sleep. If his Lord was to return there would be much he needed to do.

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Farram sat on the floor in front of his fireplace tending the flames with a stick. With an early winter storm raging outside he was forced to stay indoors. He carefully pulled his faded gray scarf up over his face, it was a cherished gift made by his dear knight long ago. Over the years he had been keeping watch over his old home, and he'd watched the city go dark. Something had happened, deep down he could sense that Lord Gwyn was no more. But he wondered about his sister Gwynevere, little Gwyndolin, and Ornstein. What had happened to them over the years? It wasn't as if he could just stop by and visit, he had been banished and his name erased from history.

Since he left Lordran he'd taken up residence at a dragon worshipping temple. At the moment only a handful of warriors were there and the serpent men of Sen tended the drakes. He was feeling lonelier than ever, and silently wished he could go home. A sudden clatter made him jump to his feet, on a table near the window was a scroll he was sure wasn't there a moment ago. Picking it up he saw that its wax seal bore the image of a filigree crescent moon, the heraldry of the Darkmoon Blades.

His eyes widened in surprise, this couldn't be real...could it? Carefully opening it he read the letter, the flowing handwriting was unmistakably Gwyndolin's and he was practically begging him to return. He pinched himself, hard, then read it again. This was incredible, he was filled with joy at the thought of going home. Hastily gathering his belongings into a travel bag he prepared himself to set out. But to his dismay the weather wouldn't allow him to leave just yet, the wind and snow would be too hard on his drake and he wouldn't force him to fly through the blizzard. Returning to his room he decided to sleep and wait out the storm.

...........

Ornstein slunk into the dining room on three hours of sleep. It took some effort to make himself eat and after a cup of ginger tea he felt a little better. He had much to get done, his Lord's chambers needed cleaning, his own chambers and office needed it as well, then he had to clean his armor and get it ready...

After what felt like a few minutes he was woke by a heavy hand on his shoulder. "Ornstein, are you feeling well? You've been sitting there most of the morning." Smough was concerned about him, he knew he pushed himself far harder than anyone ever should. Earlier he caught him nodding off while he was eating, four hours later he was still there with a half eaten piece of toast on his plate. "Most of the morning?!! What time is it?!!" Ornstein's eyes widened. "It's eleven o' clock." Smough replied. The lion knight bit back a curse as he stood up and grabbed his helmet.

Before he could rush out the door the executioner stopped him. "Ornstein, I understand you have a lot to do today. We're all just as excited as you are to see our Lord again. But please don't try to do everything yourself, let us help." The last thing Smough wanted to see was the dragonslayer dropping from exhaustion. To his surprise Ornstein relented, "Fine, but I'm going to clean my master's room and mine. If you want you can start in the office."

Smough nodded and set off for Ornstein's office. Ornstein went to his room and changed into a comfortable set of clothes before going to his Lord's chambers. To his surprise the door was open, inside Adria and Gwyndolin were just finishing up. Ornstein felt as if he'd went back in time, everything had been meticulously placed just as it was when his Lord was here. As Adria turned to face him he held in a laugh. The Darkmoon Knightess wore a cleaning apron over her armor and wielded a feather duster in place of her Estoc. "Don't laugh or I'll dust you too you damn vagabond!" She said in a low voice, but he could tell she was teasing.

Gwyndolin giggled as he used his sorcery to start the fireplace. "Hello Ornstein, we're about through here. Do you think he'll approve?" He asked with an oddly sad smile. "He'd take up sleeping in the dungeon if it meant he could see you again." The dragonslayer replied with a yawn. Gwyndolin noticed this and put his hands on his hips, "You didn't sleep like I told you too, did you?" He huffed. "I did, not very long but I swear I did. I'll be fine, I promise." Ornstein replied.

Gwyndolin sighed and shook his head. "Alright, well we are done here. I'm going to wash up and you should too Ornstein. Afterwards I'll make us some tea and bring it to the garden." The Darkmoon god slithered out of the room, the lion knight followed behind closing the door after him. Just before he walked away he saw Gwyndolin take Adria's hand as they went towards Gwyndolin's chambers. A ghost of a smile could be seen on his face as he made his way to his room.

He'd known about Adria and Gwyndolin for years. Both of them were incredibly shy, so he looked the other way when he found them together to keep from embarrassing them. Farram would be so proud of him, he thought as he stepped inside his room. The scent of stale wine hit him hard, on his bedside table sat an empty case of red wine. Nearly everything was coated in a fine layer of fuzzy gray dust. "Fuck, I'm glad Gwyndolin never comes here." Ornstein muttered.

Rolling up his sleeves the lion knight got to work. He started by picking up all the empty bottles, under his bed he discovered several more. Then he dusted everything, swept the floors, made the bed, and opened the windows to air out the room. Most of the time he was either too tired or too hungover to bother cleaning, so things had gotten messy.

The last thing he did was wash up in his bathroom and put on his armor. At one time his armor used to shine as brightly as the sun, but age and neglect had faded it noticeably. He could take it to the giant blacksmith later to get it worked on. For now he would join everyone in the garden for tea.

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It was mid afternoon when Ornstein arrived at the garden. Adria, Gwyndolin, and Smough were seated at a large stone table surrounded by neatly trimmed hedges. Adria moved over so Ornstein could sit next to her, with the dragonslayer on one side and the Dark Sun on the other she looked like a small child seated between them. Ornstein put his helmet in his lap while Gwyndolin passed him a cup, from the floral scent he guessed it was jasmine tea.

"My Lord, what was your older brother like?" Adria asked as she lifted her visor to drink her tea. At this Gwyndolin smiled, "He was kind, brave, strong. He was a brilliant strategist, a skilled warrior, a tamer of dragonslayers." At this Ornstein nearly choked on his tea. He shot a look at Gwyndolin who only grinned in reply. "What? You mean him?" Adria pointed at Ornstein. "All I see this one do is get piss drunk, cry in a corner, and mope about the cathedral."

"I have a thing called a heart and it's fucking broken okay!! You try losing everyone you love and see how it feels." Ornstein snapped. At this Adria removed her helmet, and the lion knight gasped. She had short brown hair tied up in a neat ponytail, her onyx eyes glared coldly back at him. At one time she had been beautiful, but now her face was mottled with jagged scars. "Courtesy of my family, who loved their faithful daughter...until she became undead." She said coldly. Slipping her helmet back on she added, "I understand you more than you might think."

After that she became oddly quiet. Gwyndolin tried to change the subject by bringing up some fond memories of them. Like the time the tavern got raised to the ground by accident. "How did that happen?" Ornstein asked. "I'm surprised you don't remember!" Gwyndolin said as he poured another glass. "According to brother you, him, Artorias, Havel, and Ledo were playing never have I ever." Ornstein smiled, "The drunker we got the raunchier the game got." Gwyndolin blushed slightly before continuing. "You were all quite intoxicated. Artorias joked about Ledo having a small member because he was never seen with a woman. Havel drunkenly blurted that he was a hermaphrodite and was regularly getting the holy sacrament from the Bishop." At this Ornstein did choke on his tea, but he played it off. "What happened next?" He coughed.

"Ledo became enraged and started hurling boulders with his hammer. Havel was unphased until a rock spilled his drink, then he started pummeling Ledo with his club and missing terribly. One of the blows hit a support column and you were hit by debris and knocked out. Brother unleashed his lightning while trying to cast a miracle on you and brought the roof down. Artorias took them to the dungeon and brother took you home."

Smough, who was usually quiet spoke up. "I made the mistake of locking them up together. The noises I heard that night were nearly demonic, I never thought a human was capable of such sounds." Gwyndolin shuddered, "Dare I ask what they were doing?" Smough replied, "Very, very, drunk and angry make-up sex." Adria let out a sinister laugh that sent a chill down Ornstein's spine. "Gwyndolin, do we still have holy water? My ears need an exorcism to forget what I just heard Smough say." The lion knight shook his head trying to rid himself of the mental images.

Just as the moon god was about to reply the shriek of a drake was heard from a distance. Almost by instinct Ornstein readied himself for a fight, putting on his helmet he reached for his spear and dashed for the main gate. He was already exhausted and in no mood to fight, but the adrenaline pumping in his veins willed him forward. Smough ran for the sanctuary, his heavy steps shaking the ground. Adria remained at Gwyndolin's side as he rushed after Ornstein. When the dragonslayer exited the cathedral's main door he stopped at the base of the stairs. His eyes locked on the drake circling overhead, his spear pulsed with electricity as he held it in both hands.

This one appeared to be an Oni, its large, slender, frame was covered with lilac colored scales and feathers. Two large bony horns spiraled from its head, perched on its neck Ornstein spied a figure but it was too far off to see. It circled slowly over head before coming to land near the Dukes's Archives. Gwyndolin appeared by his side a moment later, "Ornstein, I want you to stay here and guard the main door. I shall see who this is before we take action."

"I saw a rider on the drake, are you sure you want to go alone?" He was concerned for Gwyndolin, he knew how powerful he was but he also knew the strength of the beast they were facing. "I'll be fine. I shall return shortly." With that he vanished, turning himself invisible. Dismissing the illusions that guarded the gate he teleported to the path leading to the archives. There he saw the rider getting off the drake, he was tall with tan skin and a mess of snowy white hair. He looked nearly like a wild beast, as he turned around Gwyndolin saw his face was covered by an old gray scarf, but one look at his bright golden eyes and he knew who it was.

"Brother!!" Gwyndolin exclaimed as he ran towards him. Farram looked around in confusion, he heard Gwyndolin but didn't see him. "Gwyndolin? You needn't hide yourself, I'm not here to hurt anyone." He said calmly. Deep down he was on pins and needles, praying to any god that would hear him that things would go well. A moment later a woman in a white silk gown wearing a golden solar crown appeared. Tears stained their cheeks as their slender pale arms wrapped around his waist. "Farram, I'm so glad you're home, I've missed you.." At this he broke down and sobbed. Farram knelt down and gently lifted the crown from Gwyndolin's head.

His pupils had turned serpentine but they were still golden like he remembered. His silver hair was cut in a neat feminine bob, when he last saw him he kept it in a long braid. "You've grown beautiful since I've last seen you." His voice came out in a cracked whisper, he felt tears starting to well up. Pulling him close he hugged Gwyndolin and kissed the top of his head. "I cannot express how grateful I am that you've let me return. I've missed you all so much, I've been watching from afar but I knew father wouldn't allow it if I came to see you."

Gwyndolin pulled away his eyes were already puffy from crying. "Father is gone now. He sacrificed himself to link the Fire, Gwynevere is gone too. She married Flan and left with the other gods, i don't know where they went." He sniffled. Farram was saddened by this, but at least he knew his sister was in good hands. Flan, god of fire, was an honest man and light-hearted. "Sister made a good choice picking her husband." He said. Brushing away a tear he stood and reverently placed the crown back on Gwyndolin's head.

Just behind him the drake began to rumble, it's head turned towards the archives. It flapped its wings, puffing itself out to look bigger. "Miku senses the Duke, he gets uneasy around other dragons. I'll send him to the training yard, if that's alright?" He said nervously. "He is welcome just as much as you are brother." Gwyndolin replied. Walking over to the drake he gave a polite curtsy, "Welcome to Anor Londo, Miku."

The drake let out a chirp before extending its neck trying to mimic the gesture. Farram motioned with his hands and the drake's eyes locked onto him, his signals were understood and the drake silently took of into the air, circling once more before coming to land in the empty training yard.

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Ornstein stood ready for sometime waiting for Gwyndolin to return. As the adrenaline faded from his system he felt himself falling asleep. Thinking Gwyndolin wouldn't be much longer, he allowed himself to rest his eyes....

Gwyndolin and Farram walked down the spiral stairs to find Ornstein still waiting by the main steps. Farram winced at the sight of his knight, he slouched slightly with his gaze fixed on the ground. His blood red hair hung in a tangled mess behind him and his armor looked as if it hadn't been smithed in centuries. "Ornstein?" Gwyndolin called. The dragonslayer made no reply and didn't even budge from his spot. Farram felt himself starting to panic, was he sick? Did something happen to him while he was away? As they got closer a gentle snore could be heard coming from inside his helmet. "By the Sun! He fell asleep standing up, I thought only Havel could do that!" Farram raised his eyebrows in surprise.

Gingerly Gwyndolin pried the spear from his grasp and used his magic to send it to his room. "Brother? I'm sorry to ask but could you help me get him inside?" Gwyndolin gave an apologetic smile. Farram nodded and scooped him up with ease, he was far lighter than he remembered. His sudden frown made Gwyndolin uneasy, "Is something wrong?" He asked. "He's lost weight, is he not eating?" He asked, his brows furrowed in concern.

"He's an utter mess, I try to encourage him to eat and get plenty of rest. But he's as stubborn as ever, forgive me, I tried to take care of him. He has been through so much..." Gwyndolin trailed off as he tried not to cry again. "It's alright, I'll take care of him. May I take him to my old chambers?" Farram asked. "Brother, you need not ask permission for anything. This is your home and you are free, everyone here welcomes you with open arms." Gwyndolin smiled as the cathedral doors cracked open.

Adria had been standing nearby to operate the door mechanism. At her Lord's approach she pulled the lever. Her jaw dropped at the sight of the tall stranger that came in carrying Ornstein, his wild white hair, golden eyes, and calm, confident stride made him look fierce. Moving to Gwyndolin's side she greeted him with a bow. "My Lord, is this your brother?" She asked in curiosity.

"I am, my name is Farram." He gave a half bow to avoid dropping Ornstein. "I'm Adria, Lady of the Darkling. Welcome home Lord Farram." She bowed again. At this he laughed, "Please, just call me Farram. I'm not a god anymore." Gwyndolin winced as he said this. "Adria, can you tell Smough to stand guard for tonight? I'm going to tend to supper while my brother tends to his knight." Gwyndolin said as he slithered off. "Yes my Lord." Turning away she called over her shoulder, "Have fun taming your dragonslayer Lord Farram!"

Farram felt himself blush, at least he knew he wouldn't have to hide his affection for Ornstein anymore. But it made him wonder how much Gwyndolin told her? Carrying Ornstein he made his way toward his room. To his surprise everything was just as he'd left it, he had assumed father had burned it all. Carefully he removed his armor and set it on his table, his breath caught in his throat when he finally got a good look at him. He looked mostly the same, but he was paler, leaner, had a few new scars on his chest and side. His face bore the gentle lines of fatigue and age, under his eyes were dark rings.

Laying him under the covers of his bed he locked the door and kicked his shoes off. Climbing onto his bed he laid down next to his knight and pulled him close, wrapping his arms around him. "I promise I'm not going to leave you again." He whispered as he kissed him on his forehead.

..........

Ornstein woke feeling surprisingly rested, and pleasantly warm. As he remembered the drake he tried to sit up, only to find himself being held in place. "Hmm? You still don't sleep long do you?" That voice, it couldn't be...could it? Rolling over he found his master sleepily gazing at him, his hair had turned white but he looked unchanged. He still had that smile that warmed him like a summer's day and his eyes were just as bright as ever.

Ornstein reached up gently and placed a hand on his cheek, fearing it was a dream and he would disappear at any moment. "I'm here, and I'm not leaving you again." He said quietly. At first the dragonslayer smiled and pulled his master close, but years of long buried grief slowly came out and his joy turned to tears. Burying his face against his master's robe he let out all the pain he'd held back for so long. His boyfriend rubbed gentle circles on his back, "I'm so sorry, I wanted to take you with me. But I needed someone to stay and protect Gwyndolin and Gwynevere." He felt himself tearing up again.

"Please, don't leave me behind again." Ornstein sniffled. "I can't be alone again.... I just can't handle it anymore..." He sobbed. Farram's heart ached to see his knight in such a state. His eyes held an unfathomable sadness, it made him wonder what had happened to him. "I'm here to stay. And if I should leave, you will go with me." He said. Gingerly brushing away his tears he kissed Ornstein on his forehead causing him to blush.

Farram chuckled as he pulled him closer. Just as he was about to kiss him again there was a knock on his door.

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Almost by force of habit Ornstein scrambled out of bed and straightened his clothes. Farram followed suit, slipping on his sandals he went to answer the door. Adria was waiting there for them, greeting them with a polite bow. "Lord Gwyndolin asked me to fetch you for dinner." She said. Under her helmet she grinned widely, the former god and his knight both looked like children who'd been caught getting into mischief.

"Thank you, we'll follow you there." Farram said. A moment later they were following Adria through the palace to the dining hall. Farram felt oddly sad as he noticed just how empty and quiet the palace was. The last time he was here you couldn't go ten steps without seeing someone, now it seems even the Silver Knights were nowhere to be found. He had hoped maybe he would find them in the dining hall, but upon entering he saw just Gwyndolin and Smough setting a table near the fireplace.

"What happened to everyone?" He asked quietly. "We're all that's left." Ornstein replied sadly. "What of the other Knight of Gwyn?" At that Ornstein looked away, "I'm the last." He whispered. The look on the dragonslayer's face when he glanced back at his Lord hurt him like a blow from his spear. He made a mental note to ask Gwyndolin what happened, he wouldn't dare make Ornstein recall what was clearly a traumatic event.

Together they all sat down and Gwyndolin served their meal. He had cooked a beef and vegetable stew with a loaf of bread to dip into it. "You've done quite well, my Lord. All those cooking lessons are paying off." Smough chuckled as he dug in. "Yeah, this is great. And I like how you seasoned the meat, it's very flavorful." Ornstein added, Gwyndolin smiled at the compliment. "Thank you. I'm still learning, so if I make a mistake please feel free to correct me."

"You did well. How long have you been learning to cook?" Farram asked while he picked up a slice of bread. "For a while now, it used to be Sir Artorias who did all the cooking. Ornstein would help, at least he did until that time he lit his hair on fire." Gwyndolin replied. At this Farram looked over at Ornstein who was blushing from embarrassment. "I had my back to the stove while I was watching Artorias carve up a chicken...apparently I was a little too close. He turned around after he smelled something burning and yanked me away and helped me put it out." The lion knight mumbled, his face turning redder.

"And he never set foot near the stove again!" Smough chuckled. "He should be banned permanently after that monstrosity he made a while back when he was hammered." Adria said with a laugh. "Dare I ask?" Ornstein sighed. "A turkey sandwich with celery and jam." She shuddered as she said this. Gwyndolin giggled, "You had quite the stomach ache the next morning."

"Must you bully me?" Ornstein mumbled. Under the table Farram reached over and took his hand, "They aren't trying to be mean, we used to get drunk and do stupid things or cause trouble and tease each other afterward." He smiled. "Like the time we tricked the Black Knights into thinking Lord Gwyn was going to Balder!" At this Gwyndolin and Ornstein started laughing. "They always go ahead of their Lord to make a safe path. They were so confused when they got there and Lord Gwyn never showed up. Then they all got yelled at for leaving without consent!" Gwyndolin said.

"Or the time we sent Gretka looking for a Brass Knight axe!" Ornstein grinned. "She turned the armory upside down looking for a weapon that didn't exist." Farram laughed and added, "She showed us that time! She had the blacksmith make one, who knew she could design such an effective weapon? The Way of White adopted it and named it the Crescent Axe."

They continued to laugh and tell stories for a while longer before calling it a night. Ornstein volunteered to patrol the streets, Smough returned to his post in the sanctuary and Adria went to tend the bonfire. Gwyndolin went to the Darkmoon Tomb and Farram left to check on Miku. As he walked along the path to the training yard he was unnerved by how silent everything became. The shuffling of his sandals against the cobblestone street echoed off the nearby buildings. As he passed the manor houses where the Lords once lived he saw the doors and windows had been bricked up and painted over.

It seemed wherever the Lords had gone they had no intention of returning. When he left he knew Gwynevere would be next in line for the throne, and she had confided in him many times that she had no desire to rule. Just being the Princess of Sunlight was difficult enough, she had to maintain the appearance of a gentle, loving, goddess at all times. While he was deep in thought he turned the corner into the training yard. Miku was curled up in a makeshift nest he'd made of shrubs and branches. "You wasted no time making yourself at home didn't you?" Farram laughed. Miku raised his head and glanced at him quizzically. Farram signed at him and the drake cooed in reply. Miku extended his neck as he approached, staring at him expectantly. "You're as demanding for affection as Ornstein. Wait until you meet him, you two will get along great." He said as he started stroking the patch of fuzz between Miku's horns. The drake slowly closed its eyes and began to purr like a cat.

Once again he motioned with his hands, the drake shook its head in reply. Following up with several more gestures Miku screeched and took off into the air. He gracefully glided over the palace and away to the lake on the other side of the mountains. A moment later a faint set of footsteps caught his attention, Ornstein rounded the corner with spear in hand. "I saw your drake leave, is everything alright?" He asked as he came in earshot.

"He's fine, I sent him to the lake to hunt. He enjoys fish and hydra spawn." Farram grinned. Ornstein tilted his head at him. "You can speak dragon?" At this his boyfriend burst into laughter, "No, I lack the vocals for their language. Besides Miku doesn't speak their language either." Ornstein was quiet for a moment before saying, "Miku? Beautiful sky. That's a fitting name for an Oni."

Farram smiled even wider, "He was the first friend I made after I was banished. We ran into each other taking shelter from a nasty storm. He couldn't fly because his wing had been injured, and I was exhausted from travel. I healed him and he took me to Arch Dragon Peak. It was there I learned he was deaf, but he can feel vibrations keenly. One of the serpent men taught me how to use my hands to speak with him."

"Really? That's amazing, I never thought drakes could have a disability." Ornstein said as he took a few steps closer to examine the nest the drake had built. "It only shows how little we knew about them. And how much we'll never get to know." Farram sighed sadly. The dragonslayer felt a twinge of guilt at that statement. He knew now what they had done was wrong, what their Lord said was for the defense of their home was genocide. But at that time he'd done it for glory, honor, and revenge for his fallen comrades.

Turning away he set off to continue his patrol. "Mind if I join you?" Farram asked falling in step beside him. "I'd love that." Ornstein replied.

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A few days after his arrival Farram found himself in the Darkmoon Tomb. In the center of the room stood a coiled sword embedded into a pile of ash and bone shards. Even unlit it radiated a decent amount of heat, it's smoldering red glow gently lit the room. Before him was a statue of Lord Gwyn, he stood tall and proud. His expression was a mix of calm and fierce, his hands clutched tightly around the handle of his greatsword, ready to plunge it into the ground in a fearsome display of power.

He always portrayed himself as merciful and strong. To his subjects he was a god who blessed those who were faithful and served him, and brought divine judgment to his foes. But in private he was cold, fickle, demanding, and at times abusive. He claimed that tough love made his children strong, but they only grew to resent him. Even his second wife, Velka, couldn't stand his harsh ways and returned to her home in the ethereal realm where spirits dwell.

Walking forward the statue vanished to reveal a set of stairs, these led to a wall and a fog gate. Following Adria's directions he knelt at the fog gate. "Gwyndolin? You wanted to see me?" He called gently. A moment later the fog wall vanished and the Dark Sun stood before him. The sunlight filtering through the windows behind him reflected off his gown giving him a holy aura. In his hands he held a golden catalyst that he used for his moonlight sorcery.

A faint smile crossed his face, "Please rise brother, you should not kneel to me. I should be kneeling to you, you've always been my better." At this Farram stood and shook his head, "Not anymore I'm not. Besides you rule Anor Londo, and as Lord it is only right I show you the proper respect. Now, what may I do for you?" Gwyndolin motioned for him to come inside, as he stepped into the hall the fog wall returned.

Using his catalyst he conjured a pair of simple chairs and a table. "Please take a seat, I'll return momentarily." With that he vanished, it became deafeningly silent. "To think he spends most of his time guarding this place. Gods, he must be lonely!" He said to himself as he sat down. What was only a few minutes felt like an eternity, he could only imagine what the past thirty years had been like. When he finally returned he held a tray with a tea set on it, placing it on the table he took a seat across from him. "How have you been adjusting these past few days?" He asked as he poured their cups.

"Quite well actually, everyone seems much happier and relaxed. Except for Ornstein, I meant to ask you what had happened to his friends." Farram replied, a thoughtful look crossed Gwyndolin's face as he passed him a cup. "It is a difficult topic to speak of, Ornstein had ordered Artorias to go to Oolacile. The town awakened a creature of the Abyss and was being consumed, it's citizens became monsters. Artorias sacrificed himself to save Sif and was corrupted by the dark. An undead came along and gave Artorias a merciful end. Rumor is they also slew Kalameet and the monster of the Abyss."

At this Farram's eyes widened, "This undead was a force to be reckoned with. What of Ciaran and Gough?" Gwyndolin sipped his tea before replying. "I'm unsure, Artorias and Ciaran were together, and after his death she and Sif guarded his grave in Darkroot Garden. Gough had gone fully blind and retired to Oolacile, he had a home in the upper part of the colosseum. Ornstein visited them regularly, but about four years ago he stopped. That was when he began drinking and working himself to death."

"I think I shall have to pay them a visit." Farram said quietly. "I would also like to know what became of them, Ornstein has a breakdown every time I ask. I feel he blames himself for Artorias's death, he left on his orders." Gwyndolin looked sad for a moment, he had also been fond of the Knights of Gwyn.

"I take it there is another reason you asked me here?" Farram said as he put his cup to the side. Gwyndolin nodded, "Yes, since you are home I wanted to discuss having your deific status reinstated, that would mean you'd be in charge again..." At this Farram raised a hand, "I'm more than grateful for the offer, but I have no intention of becoming a god again, I'm content with my place in the world. I will gladly aid you in defending Anor Londo, but I will not take charge. You've done an excellent job ruling, and I'm proud of the work you've done."

At this Gwyndolin grew flustered, "You really think so? I-It's not all my doing, Ornstein and Smough do so much and Adria trains the Darkmoon Blades. Really I just weave illusions and tend to the prayers of the Blades..." Farram started laughing, "You're too modest, from what I've seen you do much to keep things running. You're a better ruler than I ever would've been!" A moment later a Darkmoon Blade appeared seeking an audience with the Dark Sun.

Farram quietly dismissed himself and set off for the training yard. Miku chirped in greeting as he approached. "Good morning, feel like flying today?" He asked. Miku extended his neck to allow him to climb on, a moment later they were soaring over the palace and towards the Royal Woods. Amidst the evergreen forest down below dark crevices could be seen. Around their edges blue-black sludge leaked out, the foliage around it was withered and decayed. Tapping Miku on the neck Farram signed for him to stay away from those places. The drakes screeched in agreement before fixing its gaze on a crumbling structure sticking out from the trees.

"Oolacile, land of golden sorceries. Now lost forever, and it's people along with it." Farram sighed sadly. Spotting a large clearing Miku came in for a graceful landing. No sooner than Farram climbed off he found himself in ankle deep water. He shot a look at the drake, "If you needed a bath you could've asked!" Miku gave a rumbling chirp, he swore he was laughing at him. Shaking his head he looked around, the only path through was a tunnel on the far side.

Taking his sword spear from a holster hidden under Miku's wing he signed for him to wait for him. The passage he saw was a narrow squeeze, he had to hunch down and by the time he got to the other side his back was sore. He entered into a clearing and felt as if he were in another time. A bonfire burned brightly amidst a circle of ancient statues. They were once sacred to the inhabitants of Oolacile, now they were being quietly reclaimed by nature.

Along a far wall he spied the biggest mushroom he'd ever seen, as he walked up to it he noticed it was watching him. "Greetings traveller, oh don't be shy, I don't bite. Come closer dear." The mushroom spoke with the voice of an old woman. "I'm Elizabeth, and I watch over what remains of Oolacile. If you've come to visit you'll find naught but ruins, maybe a few guardians."

"Greetings Elizabeth, I'm a friend of the Knights of Gwyn. I've come to see what's become of them." Farram felt it was better to not say his name. At this Elizabeth perked up, "Oh?!! You are friends with Sir Ornstein, I presume? When last he visited he left looking rather distraught, is he alright?" At first he wasn't quite sure how to answer that. "He didn't handle things very well, his friends were as close as family to him." He replied.

"Oh! The poor dear!! Well, if you see any moon flowers about, take those and make a tea of them. They can help ease a broken heart, and if you see my Lady Dusk, tell her I said hello." Elizabeth sounded very concerned. She seemed like one who was motherly and often looked after others. "I'll gather some flowers if I see them. Thank you for your help." With a polite bow he departed.

Chapter Text

A short walk through the forest led Farram to a crumbling building. Inside was a platform that looked like an elevator, but no mechanism to operate it. Out of curiosity he stepped onto the center, it glowed blue and emitted a musical tone before carrying him down below. To his surprise he was right next to the colosseum. A narrow bridge led him to the entrance, inside he saw more of the blue-black sludge. It snaked across the floor leaving branching patterns in its wake.

Darkened pools of blood were scattered about the arena, here and there the floor was dented as if a massive object had made impact. Grass and vines were cropping up around the arena's walls, in time this place would be reduced to rubble. Walking towards the stairs he gazed down into a gaping chasm, at the very bottom were collapsed towers and possibly houses. Their original color was unrecognizable under all the abyssal sludge. A sinister energy seemed to permeate the place, as if the beast that ravaged the city still kept watch from the gloom below.

Farram felt a chill go down his spine, he could only imagine what horrors Artorias had faced down below. Turning away he swiftly made for the stairs going up, and at the top he found an iron door sitting ajar. Inside was a metal ladder that had rusted with age. Strapping his weapon to his back Farram climbed up, quietly praying that the ladder didn't fall apart under his weight. Climbing up to the top he looked around.

In the corner sat a statue of Gough, he was posed sitting with his hands folded and his head resting on his chest. There were patches of moss on his shoulders, and across his right arm was a trailing vine of moon flowers. The large pale blooms gave off a subtle sweet scent as they opened up in the afternoon shade. This place had a peaceful feeling, but something didn't quite seem right. If Oolacile's citizens was gone, then who put the statue there?

Reaching up he tapped on the side of the statue's helmet. His heart went to his throat at the sound of metal clanking and not the thump of stone. This wasn't a statue at all...this was Gough's body. "Havel wasn't joking when he said giants turn to stone when they die..." His voice came out in a sad whisper, not daring to disturb his friend's rest. Backing away he took a knee and assumed a prayer stance, quietly he said his farewell and reminisced on their time together in the Dragon Wars.

When he had finished he stood and carefully picked a few flowers from the vine on his arm. "Even in death you still look after your family. Rest in peace old friend." Farram raised his weapon in salute before going back down the ladder. Returning to Miku he found him preening his feathers, he greeted him with a gentle screech. "One more stop and we can go home." Farram said as he patted Miku's horn affectionately.

Taking off into the air again they flew briefly and landed in Darkroot Garden. Artorias's grave was easy to spot from the air, his massive great sword sat plunged into the earth before a tombstone. Landing just outside the walled area that protected it from looters Farram climbed off and signed for Miku to keep watch. The grave was sealed off by a towering stone door, shoving it open he saw several rusted swords and a few bones scattered across the ground. Someone was still guarding this place, as he walked towards the grave an ominous howl rang out. A moment later a great wolf leapt over the tombstone and crouched next to the sword, it's teeth bared in a snarl and it's yellow eyes fixed on him.

"Sif? Is that you, you've grown quite a bit!" Farram knelt and set down his weapon, Sif tilted his head quizzically as if asking who he was. Slowly he held out his hand, Sif crept close still growling and ready to attack. Gingerly the wolf sniffed his hand, then it's ears went up and it's tail began wagging furiously. Sif began to whimper as she crawled into Farram's lap demanding to be pet. "I've missed you too, it's been far too long." He replied. Sif rolled onto her back and gazed at him, tail stirring up clouds of dust. Farram laughed and sat there petting her until she was content.

When Sif finally relented he stood and strapped his weapon to his back. Approaching the grave he knelt and said a prayer for Artorias, Sif sat quietly by his side. "He was too good for this world. Always kind and honest, I'm going to miss him terribly." He sighed as he brushed away a tear. "Sif? Where is Ciaran?" He asked quietly. At this Sif's ears went back and her tail went down, he swore he saw tears in her eyes.

She walked towards the other side of the tombstone before letting out a sorrowful howl and walked away to rest by a boulder. Her behavior made him worry, had she been here all this time? Stepping carefully behind the tombstone he spotted something on the ground. When he recognized what he was looking at his blood froze in his veins. Ciaran sat with her knees drawn to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. Her armor had been reduced to rags from years of exposure, pearly white bones could be seen in places. Her porcelain mask had cracked and part had fallen away to reveal a grinning skull underneath.

Even in death her face bore a look of immense sorrow. Weeds and vines had grown up around her and held her in place. Such a sight made Farram weep, how long had she mourned here before meeting her own end. Through sniffles and tears he prayed that she found peace and was with Artorias in the afterlife. Now he understood why Ornstein had become depressed. And very likely he was the first to discover Ciaran and Gough during his visits.

Taking a moment to calm himself he stood and said farewell to Sif. She howled sadly as he walked away, she must be lonely too. "I promise to come back and visit. And I'll bring you a treat as well." He called over his shoulder. Returning to Miku they made the trip back to Anor Londo. Letting his drake go to hunt Farram set off to look for his knight.

Chapter Text

Ornstein was standing on the upper balcony of the sanctuary keeping watch. Smough was in the kitchen making supper while Adria guarded the door. He was tired after an all day shift, but he had no plans to rest just yet. As soon as he was relieved he was going to search for his master, he hadn't seen him at all that day and it was making him worry. His mind was racing, going over countless scenarios and possibilities. But one thought terrified him, what if he'd decided to leave?

At this he felt himself start to shake, he had just gotten him back, and like that he was gone again. "No, no... He's just busy, he promised he wouldn't leave me behind." Ornstein murmured to himself. He began to pace about restlessly, counting down the hours until evening. Just before Smough came to relieve him he spotted his master in the annex. His sword spear was resting on his shoulder and his wild hair was tussled. The solemn expression he wore made Ornstein nervous, had something terrible happened in the city?

Wanting to get to him as quickly as possible he leapt over the railing. Normally he would take a moment to plan his jump, but this time he overlooked it. His right foot caught in the railing and twisted causing him to tumble down and land flat on his face. THWACK!!! CLANK!!! AGH!!!
Ornstein rolled over and grabbed at his ankle with a pained hiss. Adria saw him fall and began to run towards him, but she was knocked over by the gust of wind thrown up by Farram dashing past.

In the blink of an eye he crossed the annex and was at Ornstein's side. "Damn, I heard your leg break from across the cathedral! Are you alright?" He was wide eyed with worry as he gently tugged off his sabaton. Ornstein whimpered and gritted his teeth as his master's fingers brushed over a tender spot. "Your right ankle is dislocated, I can feel your tibia sitting crooked in its socket. I'm going to set it back so I can heal it." He said with as much calm as he could manage.

The dragonslayer went pale under his helmet. "Please, don't. It already hurts enough." He whispered. "It's going to have to be set otherwise you'll never walk right again. Here, I'll give you time to prepare. Let's count to three together and I'll set it." Farram tried to sound reassuring. For now that seemed to calm Ornstein down a little. "Alright. Let's get this over with..." He groaned.
Farram took a deep breath, "Okay. Ready?" He asked. Ornstein nodded. "One...Two..." They said in unison. CRACK!!! "Gods damn you!! You said on three!!!" Ornstein yelled, he was grateful he had his helmet on to hide his tears. "I'm sorry." Farram murmured. As he placed both hands over his leg he focused on casting a healing miracle. A warm golden light gently surrounded them, Ornstein started to relax as the pain in his leg subsided.

As he looked over at his master he saw that loving gaze that he'd missed so terribly. And from behind him he saw Adria standing awestruck. She'd never witnessed the miracles of the gods before. A moment later Gwyndolin appeared at her side and whispered into her ear. As the light faded the gentle warmth remained, it was an after effect of his Lord's miracles. Getting to his feet he tested his leg, there was a slight limp but it was better than being bedridden with a cast. "You should be more careful, for now use the elevator until your leg is better." Farram said as he patted Ornstein on the back. "Yes, your grace. I shall refrain from arial stunts for the time being." The lion knight sighed.

"You know how I feel about you calling me that... Somethings never change." He sighed. Gwyndolin approached, wringing his hands nervously. "Is everything alright? I heard a crash and a scream. Did Ornstein get hurt?" He asked as he noticed him favoring his right leg. "I misjudged a jump and got caught on the railing." Ornstein said quietly. Because I was in a hurry to get to my Lord... He added in his head.

"This is why I'm always telling you to take a break, you insist on working yourself to exhaustion! You don't listen and then you wonder why these things happen!!" Gwyndolin huffed. "It's alright Gwyndolin, I've tended to him. And I'm going to make sure he rests for a while." Farram placed a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him. Gwyndolin let out a tired sigh, "Very well. I shall conjure an illusion of him to take up watch with Smough. Ornstein if I catch you working before your leg is healed I'll have you restrained."

"Restraints won't be necessary, I can persuade him to behave." Farram replied. Ornstein was blushing brightly under his helmet, partly from shame and partly from his Lord's ambiguous suggestion. As Gwyndolin readied his catalyst to conjure an illusion Ornstein picked up his spear and sabaton then gave a polite bow before parting. Farram followed along behind him, intent on making sure his knight rested.

"I feel like a damn fool for causing Gwyndolin to worry so much." Ornstein groaned as he turned a corner. "Then you should take better care of yourself, and be mindful of your actions." Farram said as he moved next to Ornstein, reaching over he took his hand. "That was quite a landing though. Did you realize you did a flip on the way down?" At that the dragonslayer rolled his eyes. Fumbling for his key he unlocked his door and went inside. Stepping aside to let his Lord in he closed and locked the door behind him.

Placing his spear on its stand he removed his gauntlets and started to work his way out of his armor. Just as he was about to remove his helmet he heard his boyfriend come up behind him. Gently he grabbed his hands and moved them to his sides, "Allow me." He said quietly. Farram lifted his helmet off and a mess of blood red hair tumbled down his back. "Look at all these knots! Did you forget what a hairbrush is?" He chuckled. Ornstein turned around, his deep emerald eyes were puffy and red. His cheeks were streaked with dried tears. "Your's isn't much better! You look like you stood in a tornado all day!" He smiled.

Farram gently cupped his cheek and Ornstein leaned into his touch. His other arm wrapped around his waist, fingers nimbly working at the straps that held his spaulders in place. "I went out for the day." He said as he leaner closer. Ornstein shrugged his spaulders off, they clattered to the floor. The hand on his cheek went to the back of his head, the other began to undo his chest plate. Ornstein stood on his tiptoes and wrapped his arms around his Lord's shoulders. Farram leaned down so he wouldn't hurt his foot again, he knew what his knight wanted. As their lips met in a slow kiss Ornstein's chest plate joined his spaulders noisily on the floor. His free hand went to Ornstein's left leg, lifting it up to his hip. Without breaking the kiss he loosened his greaves. Switching to his other leg he did the same, the last of his armor fell away leaving the dragonslayer standing there in a short sleeve orange tunic and dark pants.

His cheeks flushed rosy pink as he nervously bit his lip. Farram couldn't help but sigh at how beautiful he looked. Despite his nerves he stood confidently, ready for whatever was next. Leaning down he scooped his knight up and carried him over to the bed. Gently he set him down and moved to lay next to him. Ornstein cuddled against Farram's chest as he felt as strong arm wrap around him. Being so close to his Lord made him feel safe and peaceful. The pleasant warmth coming from his Lord's body combined with the steady rhythm of his heart lulled him into a relaxed state. Before he knew it he was fast asleep.

Chapter Text

Farram smiled at how adorable Ornstein looked when he slept. His perpetual scowl and sharp gaze faded to a look of calm tranquility. The ghost of a smile graced his features as his lips parted in a gentle snore. He knew Ornstein was tired, standing on his feet for fourteen hours without a break was taxing even on experienced knights. He held him close until he was sure he wouldn't stir if he moved.

Carefully pulling away he got out of bed and slipped his sandals on. Almost as if he sensed his absence Ornstein curled up in a ball, drawing his knees to his chest and crossing his arms as if he was cold. Grabbing the blanket that sat folded on the foot of his bed he covered his sleeping boyfriend before bending over and kissing his forehead. "I love you. I'll be back shortly." He whispered. At that he seemed to relax a little and uncurled himself slightly. As quietly as he could manage he crept out and went to find Gwyndolin.

As he walked into the annex he spied the illusion of his knight standing up on the balcony. He was statue still with spear in hand, he emitted a fierce and commanding presence as if daring a challenger to come forward. Down below Smough stood leaning on his hammer, the cheery smile on his helmet felt sinister as he stood waiting to do what he did best. Upon spotting Farram Smough gave a polite bow, and he returned it. Walking along he decided to check the kitchen, at the sound of hushed conversation he slowed his pace.

Peering around the corner into the kitchen he saw Gwyndolin sitting in a chair. Adria had discarded her helmet and was sitting in his lap. Gwyndolin had removed his sun shaped mask and placed it next to Adria's helmet. "My little nightshade, is something wrong? You're trembling!" Gwyndolin raised his eyebrows as his serpents curled around her legs. "Just old wounds, love. They ache every time the weather changes." Adria sighed, a pained smile on her face.

At this Gwyndolin's frowned, "Forgive me. My magic can do much, but your wounds were to severe for me to heal completely. I would need dear Gwynevere's miracles to fully repair the damage." Adria reached up and kissed Gwyndolin on the cheek, "You did what you could. And for that I'm grateful, I can manage and work through the pain. I always have."

At this he sighed, "You sound like Ornstein. Always pushing yourself far harder than needed." Adria rolled her eyes before sliding off Gwyndolin's lap. "Unlike our holy house cat, I know to rest. He works like that because he's given up on life. I can see it in his eyes, he forces himself to keep going even though all he wants is to just quit. I think having his Lord return might be just the thing that keeps him from hollowing out."

Farram winced at Adria's words, by how neglectful he'd become towards himself it was a wonder he hadn't gone hollow yet. As Gwyndolin looked towards the door he saw Farram standing in the doorway. Adria turned to follow his gaze and her face went tomato red. Quickly they scrambled for their helms and grabbed each other's by accident. "Wait? Why is it dark?!!" Adria said in confusion. The mask of the Dark Sun requires great faith to wear, and an equal amount of trust as it renders you blind until removed. "I hear an echo? Something is off..." Looking over he saw Adria stumbling around with his crown on, he caught her just before she ran into the stove.

Farram was trying not to burst into laughter. "That armor suits you brother." He said with a grin as they exchanged their head gear. Adria politely excused herself and bowed to them both before swiftly leaving. Gwyndolin was clearly flustered, he nervously straightened his gown and tried his best to feign his normal calm. "Forgive me, we had supper a while ago but we did not wish to disturb you and Ornstein. We saved you both a plate." He grabbed an oven mitt and reached into the stove and pulled out a plate. It was grilled fish with a side of mixed vegetables. Farram accepted his plate with a smile before moving to sit at a side table against the wall. Gwyndolin turned his chair to face him before sitting down again. "I'm sorry you saw any of that." He mumbled nervously.

"Don't be, you looked cute together. If I'm not overstepping, I know a few of sis's miracles. I made use of them long ago to patch Ornstein up after battles. I can use them for Adria if you'd like?" Farram said as he dug in. Gwyndolin smiled, "That would be lovely, only don't ask her where she got her wounds. She gets tense talking about it, she only told me about them a century after the fact." At this Farram nodded, he understood that each scar told a story. But sometimes some stories needed to be forgotten. "I wanted to find you to tell you that I went to Oolacile."

At this Gwyndolin's expression became serious. "Sir Gough and Lady Ciaran?" In that moment Farram had to look away, "Dead. For some time now. Sir Gough passed peacefully of old age." At the memory of Ciaran's skeletal remains his appetite vanished. "For Lady Ciaran I believe her death was psychogenic. She simply gave up living. I dare not say more on how I found her..." Farram felt tears threatening to well up again, but he forced them back. He would deal with his feelings at a more convenient time.

"I see... I shall add this to their records. Ornstein was the only one who knew... He never should've carried the burden of their loss alone." Gwyndolin sounded close to tears. The Knights of Gwyn cherished the little Lord and were the warmest and friendliest to him. "We need to give him closure. He was never allowed to mourn because of his duties and because of how guarded he is with his own emotions. I propose we hold a small wake for them and let him say his farewell." Farram nodded, "That sounds excellent. What can I do to help?"

At this Gwyndolin smiled faintly. "I have a plan..."

Chapter Text

Ornstein woke to find it was nightfall. With a yawn he climbed out of bed and went to put his armor on. To his dismay it was gone, and oddly so was his master. Tugging on his boots and tying up his hair he set off to look for him. The halls were unusually dark, "Gwyndolin must've forgotten to leave the torches lit." He sighed to himself.

As he entered the annex he felt his stomach churn. The scent of charred flesh hung in the air making it hard to breathe. Something was terribly wrong, picking up his pace he made for the sanctuary to find Smough. Only he wasn't there, to his shock and horror he found Lord Gwyn waiting for him. His charred robes smoldered with embers, blackened skin was stretched thin over his bones, empty eye sockets glared coldly at him. "You vile wretch!! You let that traitorous bastard return and defile my halls! You shall pay for your treachery Dragonslayer!!" His voice was loud and harsh, every word filled with malice.

Unarmed and terrified Ornstein turned and ran. Sprinting out the cathedral's main door instead of finding the walkway he found himself standing on the bridge leading to the colosseum in Oolacile. "Gods!!! No! Not this damn nightmare again!!" He whispered. Almost of their own accord Ornstein's feet carried him forward. His heart pounded faster with every step as he climbed up the ladder to where Gough was. The giant sat whittling away, patches of his skin were turned stony gray as they petrified.

"Greetings old friend. How nice of you to come and visit after all these years." His deep voice was oddly distorted and had a mocking tone. "All this time I thought I was going to be left to rot in this forsaken ruin." He chuckled. Ornstein felt tears blurring his vision, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry... You told me you'd be happy here. I didn't know you'd end up dying alone..."

"Tis not I you should apologize too." Gough rumbled as he pointed behind him. Ornstein hesitated before turning around, before him stood the grave of Artorias. Looking back he saw that Gough was gone and the doors barring access to the grave were shut. Walking towards the tombstone he saw a figure perched on top. Ciaran leapt down, the crunch and crackle of her decaying joints could be heard as she moved. The broken part of her mask fell away to reveal gray, rotting flesh. One glazed over eye gazed lifelessly at him.

"Greetings, Captain." Her voice came out like the rustling of dead leaves. "It's about time you came back. Too bad you're too late." Her tone was icy cold. "You couldn't accept responsibility for your actions, so you chose to abandon us." Her words were laced with venom. Ornstein was crying, it hurt him that she thought he'd left her there on purpose.

"I didn't, you know this. I loved Artorias too! He was my brother! I was just as hurt as you were, but I never left you here. You chose to stay here and watch over him." At this Ciaran frowned at him, "But you chose to let me die! You had years to stop me, you saw me giving up and you did nothing!! You abandoned us after all the years we served together." She hissed.

"That's not true. I'm not going to listen to any more of this!!" Turning away he saw nothing but intangible gloom where the door was. The sound of metal plates clanking together accompanied the sound of harsh, ragged, breathing. "Gods have mercy!" Ornstein whispered. Artorias slunk out of the shadows, he was slouched with his left arm dangling and useless. On his right rested his great sword, abyssal sludge dripped from the chinks in his armor and trailed along behind him. His face was obscured by his cowl, but as he moved closer one of his eyes could be seen. It was blood red and glowing with hellish fury.

Artorias let out an guttural, inhuman, scream before launching forward in a spinning slash.

..........

Ornstein woke with a start, he was drenched in sweat and trembling like a leaf, his heart thundered erratically in his ears. Both hands had a death grip on the blanket he was tangled in as his eyes frantically darted about the room. As he spied his armor sitting on the floor next to his stand he realized he was awake this time.

Not wanting to go back to sleep he climbed out of bed. The chill that seeped into the stone from outside further jolted him awake. His damp clothing stuck to his skin and made him even colder, moving towards his closet he dug out a clean tunic and pants. Grabbing a towel and a bar of soap he made his way down to the public baths. He had a bathroom in his chambers but the faucet quit working years ago and he didn't bother to fix it.
As he walked along a dull ache in his foot reminded him to take it easy. Once at the bath he undressed and slipped into the water, it was pleasantly warm and it felt good on his injured leg. He was content to just relax a moment and try to calm himself after another horrible nightmare.

Farram walked along with a towel, a bar of soap, and a clean robe in his hands. It had been ages since he had a proper bath and was looking forward to getting cleaned up. He would've done it earlier but he had been busy helping Gwyndolin with a project. He rounded the corner and saw Ornstein in the water, he was relaxing against the side with his eyes closed. He looked about as stressed as ever.

"Ornstein? I thought you were sleeping." He said as he raised an eyebrow at him. The lion knight's eyes shot open wide with panic. "Oh, it's just you. I'm sorry, couldn't sleep...Had another nightmare..." He relaxed a little, but something in his gaze hinted that he was tense. "Care to talk about it?" Farram asked as he gently unwound the scarf from his face and folded it up. "Not really. It's not like talking about it would do any good." He replied. Turning around he grabbed the soap and started to lather up. Farram finished undressing and got in, dunking his head underwater he took a moment to appreciate his knight's graceful form from behind before coming back up.

As his wild hair fell into his face Ornstein started laughing. "You look like a wild woman from the Great Swamp." Farram rolled his eyes. "You always look homeless with that nappy hair of yours!" Ornstein looked hurt by that remark, but he played it off. "You know how much of a mess it is to deal with!" He sighed. "Then let me give you a hand." Farram smiled. Ornstein moved to stand next to him and dunked his head underwater. When he came up Farram grabbed the soap and lathered it up, his fingers nimbly worked through all the knots and tangles. Going under again he rinsed the soap out, but he came up flushing red. He'd gotten a good look at his Lord's more holy parts.

"You like what you see?" He teased. Ornstein turned even redder, "Yes." He muttered. At this his Lord laughed. Moving away he washed his own hair while Ornstein scrubbed himself. Drying off and dressing they left their dirty clothes in a laundry basket and left. Farram kept his scarf and carefully tied it back around his face. "I'm surprised you still have that old thing!" Ornstein smiled. "It was all I had left of you for a long time, it's never left my side." Farram replied. As he noticed they were heading towards the annex he asked, "Where are we going?" Ornstein replied, "To my office, I need a drink."

Chapter Text

Adria hurried down the hall, her face was glowing red with shame under her helmet. "How could I let myself get caught like that?" She muttered as she turned a corner. For her to be seen in such a scandalous situation with her Lord was embarrassing. Even more so when it was his elder brother, the legendary nameless king, who had seen them. It was improper for divines and royals to be in a relationship, but even less when it was a divine and a human. A god courting an undead paladin would be considered abhorrent. She could only imagine what was going through Farram's head when he saw her in Gwyndolin's lap. She would ask forgiveness from her Lord the next time she saw him.

Arriving at her chambers she shoved the key into the lock and hurried inside. Shutting the door tightly behind her she finally let herself relax a little. A dull burning ache running down her back made itself known as she sat down in her chair at her desk. She pushed the discomfort to the back of her mind as she read over a few reports and planned her midnight street patrol. Several papers requiring Ornstein's signature sat tucked to the side, she would take them to his office before her patrol started. If he ever got around to signing them was another matter.

With a few hours to rest she decided to take a brief nap. Though the undead no longer required food or rest she continued to eat and sleep because it gave some normalcy to her unlife. Taking off her helmet, pauldrons, gauntlets, and chestplate she laid across her bed with her feet hanging off the edge. She let her eyes wander her room briefly, besides a simple bed and desk the only other furniture was a mirror and armor stand on the far wall.

At one point this room had been a storage closet, but Adria quietly converted it into her sleeping area. Gwyndolin had offered her a guest room to make use of but she was content with the small space. When she was alive she had shared a room like the one she was in with two other people. That was over two centuries ago, back when she thought she had her life planned out. She never would've guessed how wild a twist fate had in store for her. Just as she was falling into that comfortable daze between alertness and sleep she heard a gentle tap on her door.

Swiftly getting to her feet she hurried to answer the door. Gwyndolin was waiting there for her, his mask was gone as well as his catalyst. Almost immediately Adria took a knee, keeping her face to the ground. "My Lord. Forgive my earlier breech of etiquette, I shall show more restraint in the future." She felt her face growing hot, this time she didn't have her helmet to hide her blush. To her surprise Gwyndolin knelt down and took one of her hands with both of his. "You did nothing wrong Adria. And you don't need to kneel, this isn't a formal visit."

She looked up to see an amused smile on his face. "But... Lord Farram saw us and-" she began. "He isn't bothered by us. In fact he thought we looked cute together." Gwyndolin said as Adria gave him a confused look. "He did?" She blushed even brighter. Slowly standing she rubbed the back of her neck nervously. Gwyndolin tilted his head and gave a light chuckle, "I came to check on you and tend to your old wounds. If that's alright?"

"Yes, of course. Please come inside." She smiled faintly as she stepped aside. Gwyndolin slithered inside and she shut the door behind him. His serpents gazed up at her flicking their tongues. "Where is it hurting at this time?" Gwyndolin asked as he moved to open the curtains at her window. Adria's breath caught in her throat as she watched him. The soft pale moonlight cast a halo into his silver hair and gave him an angelic glow. The scales of his serpents glinted in opalescent shades of silver and blue. Though he was called the Dark Sun he was a child of the moon. And in moonlight his inner beauty showed through. "Adria? Are you alright?" He raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "I'm sorry, I was...distracted?" She grinned. "It's my back this time." She added.

"Very well. You won't mind holding your tunic up?" He said as he focused on casting a miracle. Adria turned around and lifted the back of her tunic, much like her face her back was marred by numerous scars. These were reddened and inflamed, some were swollen with tiny abscesses. "Oh dear! These shall have to be lanced and flushed out." Gwyndolin's expression became concerned. "I shall tend to them after patrol." Adria said quietly. "If that is what you wish. But if the pain becomes too much, please come to me." As Gwyndolin said this he gently traced his fingers along her scars. A soft blue light danced from his fingertips leaving trails in their wake.

Adria sighed quietly as she felt him work his magic. His fingers were cool to the touch and left a pleasant tingling as they weaved their way along her marred flesh. When he finished she pulled her tunic back down. A pair of slender arms wrapped around her waist as serpents coiled around her legs. With a kiss to her cheek Gwyndolin rested his head on her shoulder. "You're beautiful. Of all the humans you are a goddess in your own right. You are a true blessing in my life." He whispered. To hear from a god that she was a blessing was amazing. Carefully turning so she wouldn't step on his serpents she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him close for a kiss on the lips.

"Were it not for your mercy, love, who knows where we'd be. If anyone was ever a blessing it would be you." She said softly as she started placing kisses along his cheek and jaw. She could feel the heat rushing to his face as she ran a hand through his glossy platinum locks. When her lips brushed a sensitive spot on his earlobe he gave a blissful sigh. She pulled away suddenly as the ancient clock tower tolled in the distance, it was almost midnight.

Gwyndolin's face was as red as the dragonslayer's hair and he had a dreamy smile on his face. "Please, come to my chambers when your patrol ends." He breathed. Adria smiled as she moved to put on her armor. "Only if you're not asleep. I will not disturb your rest." She said as she buckled her chest plate. "I shall be very much awake, and waiting for your company." He smiled. Politely excusing himself Gwyndolin went to his room to rest for a while. Adria grabbed the stack of papers from her desk and made the trip to Ornstein's office.

Inside she found a case of ale sitting near the couch where Ornstein often slept. The candles on his desk had been lit, but nobody was there. Placing the papers where he would see them she snuffed out the candles and closed the door behind her. With one last check of her armor and weapons she made her way to the city streets below to begin her patrol.

..............

"Are you really sure you want another ale? That's your fifth and you have guard duty in the morning." Farram watched his knight carefully as he took another long sip. They sat on the couch in his office with a case of ale at their feet. Farram was working on his second bottle while Ornstein was already tipsy. His eyes were half-lidded and glassy as he looked over at him. "It's alright. Another won't kill me." He was starting to slur a little. "Your hangover will, I'm sure you don't want to be sick tomorrow." He replied.

At that the lion knight looked down at his bottle, his hazy mind clearly deep in thought. "You're right. But how else am I going to keep the gods damned nightmares away?" He huffed. "I can't stand it! Every time I close my eyes I see them...Gough, Ciaran, and Artorias. They're angry with me.... They think I abandoned them, or blame me for how horrible everything went." Farram watched as tears welled up in Ornstein's eyes.

"Maybe they're right. Losing Artorias in Oolacile was my fault... As their captain and as their friend I failed them..." He started sniffling and tried his best to hide his tears. Farram couldn't stand watching him beat himself up like this. Placing his bottle away he stood, "Sir Ornstein. On your feet, now." He said calmly. Ornstein was startled by his sudden change in demeanor. "Come with me." Farram commanded as he made his way to the door. The dragonslayer stumbled along after his master as he navigated the dark palace halls. Stepping out into the night they ventured down to a quiet part of the city, hidden within an overgrown grove was an old cemetery. Row upon row of crumbling mossy tombstones poked out from amongst the grass and weeds.

Near the center stood a trio of Silver Knight statues, the center knight wielded a great bow with arrow readied and aimed skyward. The two flanking him each had lightning spears readied aiming in the same direction. As his buzz began to wane Ornstein recognized where his Lord had brought him. "This is where we buried those that died during the Dragon Wars." His voice was a reverent whisper. Each headstone marked a unit, upon death they were cremated and the ashes buried there. Walking along Farram called the names of several companies, near the back he stopped at one along a broken wall.

"Nearly a quarter of every man buried here was under my command. I knew the name and face of every Silver Knight under my authority. Their deaths are my fault, they fought and died under my orders. We knew what the risks were when we went to fight, we knew some would not return. I blamed myself for their deaths, always asking myself what I could've done better. But I learned that my only failure was by focusing on the past, on their deaths and not focusing on the future and training their comrades and sparing them from ending up here." Farram placed one hand on a tombstone that had a spidering crack down the middle.

"Do you recognize this one?" He asked quietly. Ornstein knelt to get a closer look, his eyes widened as he read the unit designation. "This was your unit long ago. And you were the last survivor of their only skirmish." Farram's tone turned sad as he said this. "The Knights of Gwyn also knew the risks they took as they went off to battle. They knew and readily accepted the fact that they might die." He knelt down and looked Ornstein in the eye. "Your fellow knights loved you like family. They trusted your judgement and respected you. We all make mistakes, but the worst one you're making is by letting your sorrow destroy you and being too hard on yourself. Their deaths are not your fault, but dwelling on a past that cannot be changed is."

Ornstein remained silent, his master was right. Being hard on himself and mourning them wouldn't bring them back, nothing would. But if he took what he learned from their deaths he could use it to protect the family he still had. After several minutes in contemplative silence they walked back to the palace.