Millicent

A/N: Back to Millicent, because even our poor infected red head needs some attention~

-x-X-x-

Embarrassingly enough, she's still at the Overlook a day later, when the Tarnished returns to her. Millicent hears him coming on that Spectral Steed of his and can't help but flush as he dismounts and begins making his way over to stand beside her.

She'd made such a big deal about her plans, hadn't she? She'd told him she was going to seek out Malenia and the Haligtree. Instead, here she was, having not moved an inch from this spot. It was… it wasn't that she was scared or anything like that. Truly, she wasn't. But at the same time… it was a lot for a woman with one arm to tackle.

Even still, she'd been squandering the Tarnished's gift to her, hadn't she? By just standing around, she was wasting the needle that even now pushed up under her ribs and quelled the Scarlet Rot within her. The infection was still present, but the pain was absent, and with a clear mind and a body that didn't fight her at every turn, she should have been able to make plenty of progress in the past day.

Hmph, the fact that he'd known to find her here meant either he didn't think much of her, or was checking in to see if she was falling behind, didn't it? Millicent purses her lips together, and ducks her head as the Tarnished stands beside her.

"I'm sorry, I-!"

And then he holds out his hand, and her breath catches in her throat. The words she'd intended to say, words of apology, of begging for him to understand… they die on her lips, never to see the light of day. Not because she thinks he wouldn't listen… but because he's holding out a golden arm towards her. One that terminates in a right hand with five functional fingers.

It is a prosthesis that even to Millicent's unpracticed eyes, is clearly a masterwork of craftsmanship. More than that… her breath comes out in a shuddering rasp, as she looks from the golden arm to the Tarnished, eyes wide.

"Are you… giving me this arm?"

She feels stupid for even asking naught but a moment later, and yet… and yet its so unbelievable, she HAS to clarify. While she doesn't think that her savior is the sort of man to… to play games with her, and dangle something like this in front of her without having any intention of giving it to her, it's still a little unbelievable. She was just lamenting her lack of a sword-arm and…

Ah. As the Tarnished smiles and nods to her, Millicent realizes this is her fault. Her lips were too loose, and by suggesting that she be made whole again, she had prompted this kind, caring warrior to seek out a prosthesis for her. But… surely not. This was far too much for someone like her. She couldn't accept.

Except, he clearly isn't waiting for her answer. Taking her by her organic hand, he leads her over to the same rock they'd kissed upon a day before and sits her back down again. Millicent can only blush and avert her gaze as he sits down next to her and begins slowly peeling away the bandages and blood-soaked cloth from her empty shoulder, where her missing arm should be.

Needing to fill the silence with something, Millicent bites her lower lip and speaks.

"… I thank you. I am in your debt, yet again, good sir."

Stopping his work, the Tarnished lifts one hand to her face, gently caressing her cheek as he turns her to face him and solemnly shakes his head. Millicent just scoffs. He's trying to act like this is no big deal? Like she doesn't know what he must have gone through to get this for her? There are not many golden arms just… lying around the Lands Between.

Judging by the wear and tear on this one, the Tarnished did not go and find Malenia and pull it straight off of her body in order to bring it back to Millicent. No, if he had, she doubted he would keep such a thing from her either. Rather… this was an old prosthesis of the one-armed Valkyrie. There was no doubt in Millicent's mind though, that this had once adorned Malenia, Blade of Miquella. However, how long it had been since that time… she knew not.

Still, as the Tarnished cleans away the area and then slowly brings the prosthetic up to Millicent's shoulder, her breath hitches. Tis a perfect fit. It goes against her empty shoulder like it was made to take the place of her excised appendage. As if it was designed… nay, destined for her. A slow breath leaves Millicent's lips, as she watches through hooded eyes while the Tarnished sockets the arm in like he's done this a million times.

Once again, the weight of her destined path bears down upon her. She is forced to acknowledge that this right here… this is fate. Not only has her savior come through for her again, but in such a specific way that only further serves to show that she's on the right path. Her goal of Malenia and the Haligtree is made all the clearer with this new prosthesis.

"I think… I think, if the arm serves well enough, it might be possible for me to wield a sword again."

She hesitates briefly, gauging the Tarnished's response. He glances to her, and seeing her watching, grins brightly and nods. Millicent blushes and ducks her head, reaching up with her organic hand to tuck a stray lock of hair back behind her ear.

"Perhaps… perhaps then, I might aid you in battle."

The arm is properly connected a moment later, and Millicent is shocked by its weight. It feels just like a normal flesh and blood arm. Why, with some practice and skill, she fully believes she'll be able to use it just as proficiently as her previous arm. Perhaps not as good as Malenia, that would seem quite unlikely… but as good, if not better than Millicent had once been, before the Scarlet Rot took her.

The Tarnished gives her a comforting smile and another nod, even as he pats her new golden shoulder, making sure its all properly locked in and not going to fall off the moment he turns away. Before she can second guess herself, Millicent leans in and boldly steals another kiss. This time, she's not at all afraid of rejection, but she doesn't let it linger. Rather, once she's snuck the kiss, she abruptly stands up, stepping away so he can't draw her in and further distract her.

"… Thank you for this. I promise, I will put your gift to great use. I must… I must train, but soon enough, I will stand by your side in battle… i-if you will have me."

Rising from the rock, her silent hero, her kind protector, nods solemnly, before touching his fingers to his just-kissed lips and letting them drift in her direction. Millicent blushes, but also smiles at him.

"We shall see each other again soon enough. I know it."

-x-X-x-

A few days later, she manages to track him down to Windmill Village, but only after he's already slain the Godskin Apostle occupying the area. It's a little irritating… but there's nothing for it. The last several days, Millicent has done nothing but train. Finding a sword to wield with her new arm had been the first order of business, but once she'd had it, she'd gone to work testing herself against the more diabolical denizens of the Altus Plateau.

It was embarrassing, but she'd nearly died half a dozen times the first day, and always to silly, small mistakes that she should never have made. It's not as easy as she'd hoped it would be, in the end. While the prosthesis IS a masterwork in craftsmanship… it's only as good as it's wielder. It has the potential to be as viable and capable as a regular sword arm… but only if she puts the work and effort in to make it so.

The second day, Millicent did a lot better. By the third, she was ready to seek the Tarnished out. It's not easy though. Even knowing he's somewhere in the Plateau doesn't help. In the end, she finds success in following the path of wanton destruction. It takes her another whole day, but eventually she arrives at Dominula, Windmill Village.

Her Tarnished is resting by the Site of Lost Grace found at the top of the village, with the corpse of his latest opponent, a Godskin Apostle, laying off to the side. As she approaches, Millicent wishes… she wishes she could have been a little faster, and been here to help him with this battle. At the same time, logically she knows that she could not risk it any more than she had. In truth, if she had rushed to be here a little faster, she might not have been here at all.

Instead, she would lie dead somewhere, her blood soaking the ground around her as whatever or whoever finished her off did what it wanted with her corpse. And what sort of repayment would that be? No, her savior deserved nothing less than her best, and while she might have missed THIS fight, she was here now. Her best… she would give. And p-perhaps… something more?

"H-Hello. We meet yet again, it would seem?"

Smiling up at her, the Tarnished pats the ground next to him gently, offering her a place to sit beside him. Blushing, Millicent nevertheless takes him up on his offer, enjoying his warmth as she stares into the Site of Lost Grace before them. The small fragment of the Erdtree's Grace… she sees nothing from it, but presumably the Tarnished does. He's been chosen by the Erdtree, hasn't he? She's seen enough of him to know just how special he is.

"… The arm you gave me truly is a thing of wonder. It feels just like my own, even when handling a s-sword."

She leaves off the part that she's been training day and night to get to this point. There's no need for him to hear of her struggles. No need for him to know that she'd very nearly died to reach him here and now so she could offer him her help in battle. No, rather… she needed to approach this from a place of confidence. She'd come to understand her savior a bit better. The Tarnished was kind-hearted to a fault. If he thought her in danger, he'd probably never let her fight by his side.

"Perhaps it is foolish to say this to you of all people, but I am sure of my skill with the sword."

Taking a deep breath, Millicent meets her Tarnished's eyes.

"Thus… I would have you call upon me in battle, should you ever have the need. It is the only way I can express my thanks."

Even as he's nodding at her, smiling softly but also clearly taking her words seriously… Millicent is rolling her own words over in her head. The only way she can express her thanks? Hm, that's not quite true, is it? There might be something else she could do, as well. She'd had a lot of experience handling a sword with this new arm of hers over the last few days.

… Perhaps it was time to put it to work. Shuffling a little closer to her Tarnished, the red head blushes crimson as she lowers her gaze… down towards his crotch.

"Ah… perhaps… perhaps it is not the only way I can express my thanks, Tarnished."

He looks at her quietly, as quiet as he ever is. But he does not shake his head or reject her. Millicent… Millicent can't help the way her heart flutters at the intrinsic trust he shows her. She is, after all, still diseased is she not? The needle holds it back, but she… she wouldn't dare ask him to lay with her. Who could say what would happen then?

No, as much as her heart yearns to show the Tarnished just how much she cares for him, she knows she's better off keeping him away from her rotting body. But that didn't mean she couldn't help him out in other ways. She'd been too late to assist him in his battle against the Godskin Apostle here. But not too late to assist him in relieving some stress brought on by that battle, perhaps?

Careful to use only her prosthesis, Millicent reaches down and begins to work away at the Tarnished's armor. She removes it carefully, working steadily with great focus… staring down at what she's trying to do, rather than daring to look him in the eye. She's not sure what she'll find there, and so she keeps her gaze focused downwards, until finally…

A gasp leaves her lips, as her Tarnished's OTHER sword is… freed from its sheath. She blushes even harder but doesn't let her embarrassment stop her. Her golden hand wraps around the haft of his 'blade', and she caresses it gently at first, before gripping down a little more, careful not to grip too tightly. Still, she needs to know that he's fine with this, that everything is well.

And so, with her golden hand wrapped around his… his phallus, Millicent finally looks up into her Tarnished's eyes.

"Is this… okay? Not t-too cold, I hope?"

Looking at her with warmth and kindness, he smiles and shakes his head, showing that it's fine. Millicent goes to avert her gaze again, but before she can do so, he catches her with his fingers under her chin, and lifts her head back up. His lips are on hers a moment more, and Millicent lets out a low moan as she kisses him.

Honestly, they probably shouldn't even be kissing. What if even this much was enough to infect him? She would never forgive herself if she… no, she refused to second guess him. Herself, certainly. She second guessed herself all the time. But this man… Millicent knew this man, and she knew he did nothing without purpose.

She still refused to let things escalate further without him initiating it, however. But for now at least, she's all too happy to settle into the comfortable routine of sliding her prosthesis up and down his shaft, gripping it gently but firmly and gliding the golden hand and fingers along his mast as the two of them kiss for what feels like an eternity. Their tongues work together, their lips meeting, and the moment… the moment stretches on for what feels like forever.

It's not, of course. It's probably not even a full half hour before he pulls away from her lips and Millicent realizes from the look in his eyes that he's almost certainly about to reach his release. Panicking a bit, not quite sure what to do, Millicent… places her gloved hand over the top of his member, and when he explodes a moment, it ends up all over both of her hands, making quite the mess to be sure.

And yet, she's never felt more satisfied since her… diagnosis. Never felt more fulfilled, either. This right here, in this moment… she's done something to pay her savior back. Pulling her hands, both real and prosthetic, away from his flagging member, Millicent looks at them for a moment… before choosing to lick some of his seed off of the golden one. Her nose wrinkles at the taste, but she goes back in for a second all the same, and that… she doesn't mind it. She could even grow to like it, she thinks.

Looking up at him, seeing his apologetic smile, she shakes her head.

"Don't… do not worry. I am not upset. I am glad that I could share this much with you, at least. Thank you… and remember, always be sure to call on me in battle, if you have need of me."

He nods, and Millicent relaxes back. They spend a while longer together, in companionable silence, before the Tarnished heads on his way again. Millicent watches him go… and then gets to her feet. Whether he calls on her or not, she will prepare. She will be ready. And that means… more practice.

-x-X-x-

A/N: Gosh Millicent, why do you have to make suffering look so adorable?

As always, feedback is greatly appreciated/encouraged! Let me know what you think!

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