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You were seeking a dance partner, metaphorically that is. Ever since arriving at the Lands Between then the Land of Shadow after, you have tried to find beauty in the world, despite how morbid it would seem. There were few constants - some monsters being doomed to be reborn after dying (you included), the madness of everyone you encounter (hopefully not you included), and the sword you wield.
You arrived in the Lands Between with two scimitars. You fell in love with frost magic upon reaching Raya Lucaria then studied under Ranni for further instruction. Upon reaching the Land of Shadow, you fell in love all over again with a light greatsword. You could wield it with ease and intermingle your frost magic to leave an icy mist that took over the battlefield.
There was beauty in the blade, and you wanted there to be beauty in the battles you fought. Unfortunately for you, all battles ended with death. What beauty is there in that? You had seen the catacombs. You knew that those you slayed had a high chance of being reborn against their will. Unlike yourself and some other Tarnished, those who died would not keep their wits about them and would restart inevitably become mad.
You wanted a battle that would end in peace. Just once.
So here you sat, at a grace that radiated light like a bonfire from within the Black Keep's halls. Atop the tallest tower, your heart yearned for what you should know by now was impossible. Still…
Your hands clamped onto the twin golden snakes that adorned your neck. You wore the Fire Knight garments, hoping it would encourage some semblance of recognition that would allow for you to speak to the demigod. You had fought many of the Fire Knights on your journey through the Shadow Keep and had learnt enough that you could not help but develop a dream. You dreamt that the demigod that commanded so much respect from his warriors, kept such knowledge from those he claimed to have disdain for, and had a lunar princess abandon her sister for, would be able to hear you out.
You flexed your hand several times before slipping on the matching gloves to your ensemble. You gazed into the Grace and imagined the helmet you saw the Fire Knights wear. The helmet appeared in your hand and you shook your head. You have tended to wear circlets, forcing yourself to be more aware of the world around you. Also, you thought you looked nicer without a helmet.
The helmet in your hand was certainly making a case for you to not wear helmets. It was gold to match the snakes around your neck, and taller than it had ant right to be. Perhaps the Fire Knights took notes from Renalla for unexplainably large head pieces. You sighed and placed it on your head. You pulled the even larger hood that you sewed back onto your armour onto it. It was a rough job, but you had not been back to the Lands Between to visit Boc in a while.
You grabbed your light greatsword and stowed it away in its hilt. You stood and approached the door.
You were as ready as you could be.
———♡———
Nothing could have prepared you for the complete and utter darkness that awaited you when you opened the doors. For a place called the Shadow Keep, you had so far only encountered shadows where there was light. You had yet to encounter a room void of light.
You walked in, letting your maroon red cape sweep behind you. The door seemed to close behind you, getting rid of any light that absentmindedly radiated off the Grace. Despite the darkness, you tried to walk with confidence. You were dressed the part of a Fire Knight. Perhaps you just caught the demigod while he was napping.
You tested the weight of the brick underneath you before placing your full weight of it. You were counting how many footsteps you made, eyes slowly darting around the darkness. You could see that it got darker around the sides, hinting at a lack of flooring.
There was a slight movement in the air and you stopped walking. You felt something near beside you and heard the sliver of a snake tongue against its teeth.
Near your left foot, a candle suddenly lit. Slowly, more candles lit - circling from where you came in towards the far side of the room to reveal an almost arena like room. Your eyes darted to where you came and you quickly tried to get familiar with the room, checking for any raised bricks or gaps that may cause an issue during the battle to come.
A voice rang from the darkness, accusatory, “Mongrel intruder.”
By the time your eyes came back to focus in front of you, you could fully see what was making the noise. A red snake head with green eyes stared at you curiously.
The voice spoke again, holding the same curiosity in its tone. “Thou'rt Tarnished it seemeth…”
You released a breath you had not realized you were holding. He saw right through your disguise. No point wearing it.
You raised your hands to pull down your hood as you heard him continue to speak, more in disdain as he processed that you were in front of him. A Tarnished.
“Mother, wouldst thou truly Lordship sanction… In one so bereft of light?”
Your hood was down and the helmet was in your hand as the snake that gazed at you was retracting in the air to its source.
Atop a throne, sat the demigod you had came here for.
Messmer the Impaler.
You could see a glowing yellow eye and flowing red hair beneath his helmet. His helmet was a dark grey that matched your chest piece, but his amour, if you could call it that, was primarily a red cloth. You were sure that underneath the wrapping, he was wearing actual armour based off the curved shoulder pieces that jutted out, but based off the snakes around him, you were not quite sure.
You scarcely had time to place down the helmet on the floor before the demigod proceeded.
He stood up and grabbed a spear as he stood. “Yet... My purpose standeth unchanged. Those stripped of the Grace of Gold shall all meet their end in the embrace of Messmer’s flame.” He summoned the familiar orange flame of his Fire Knights to his free hand.
You saw him leap and could feel a warmth incoming like you had not felt such Volcano Manor. It seemed to burn the hand you kept free for your cold sorceries.
You jumped backwards out of instinct from the heat, just missing it when he landed. He landed with his hand palm down in the brick, a flash of fire bursting from it when he landed. Messmer pushed his hand further into the ground and you leapt back in anticipation for the next burst of flame.
You glanced down to your gloved hand. You felt the cold air brewing from it. Interesting. You were unscathed.
He lept backwards before holding out his hand to release a fireball. You watched in awe as the ball split off into three as it neared you. You rolled forwards, but felt a singe as you mistimed it barely. You conjured a frosted blade to your hand and sliced off your hood and cape in one fell swoop.
You, apparently, lucked out and was out of Messmer's reach as he miscalculated where you would be. He had stabbed his spear forward only to hit air and the bottom of your cloak.
You swore you could make out a frown on his face as he swept the air in front of him with the spear. The snakes under his cloak glared at you expectedly.
“I am sorry to report that you are quite wrong. I am no Elden Lord, but I am guided by Grace. It was the golden arcs of Grace that led me through the Lands Between. It is Grace that highlights where I can deliver a painful blow to my opponent when they are wounded.” You shook the excess fabric from you, free of the loose items that could catch alight. “Make no mistake, Messmer, I do not wish to be your foe.”
All the snakes hissed simultaneously and Messmer shook his head. He pointed the spear in your direction. “Thou com’st hither, clad in mine own knight’s armour, and yet claim’st thou art no foe? Thou dost lie. Raise thy blade, or meet thy end.”
You sighed at the demand, letting your gaze fall to your sword in its scabbard.. Despite his rash request, he was patient as you decided how to proceed. If you refused to fight, he would certainly stay true to his word and slaughter you were you stood. You could only continue dodging out of the way for so long before you needed something to block with. If you drew your sword, you had a fighting chance to continue negotiations. You did not necessarily have to kill him, only wound him enough that he would temporarily stop fighting so you may speak.
You looked up and saw the snakes watching you curiously. Messmer's face gave away nothing, but it did not have to. If you put on enough of a show, perhaps the snakes would vouch for your corpse.
You drew your sword and fully summoned the chill of frost in your offhand. “Then let our discussion continue in a more… vigorous nature.”
He lunged towards you, swift as a viper. You dodged underneath his spear as it pierced in rapid succession above your head, where your chest once was.
He lept backwards and then forwards again to unleash a series of attacks. A fire ball launched towards you and you dodged to the side, causing it to leave a scorchy trail in its wake. You ducked forward to avoid the spear once more and came around to his left side. You were close enough to attempt your first strike of your own, but your blade only met the shaft of his spear as he blocked your attack.
His expression continued to be unreadable as he cast a bright flame to his hand and reached for you.
You lept backwards and unleashed a frozen mist in your wake to cool the air before the flame exploded. A fog hung in the air, but you were used to the faint visibility it brought.
You slashed your sword, releasing an arced projectile of frost. You could hear a sizzle as the mist despitated to see Messmer's spear alight. The snakes’ mouths were open as their tongues tasted the air. His spear must have melted the projectile, its warmth leaving a puddle on the brick.
"I see now that donning the raiments of thy knights was a folly, and for that, I do offer my apologies.” You spoke, doing your best to ensure your voice was warmer than the cold mist surrounding you. “If it be any consolation, I sought discourse with them. Alas, they were but hollow shades, remembering only their allegiance, neither their names nor the purpose that brought them hence.”
“Thou dost lie,” he accused, but the harsh tone was missing. He lunged towards you, but you were already gone.
You studied his aggressive lunges and admired his serpentine grace with which he wielded his weapon between dodging. Messmer was beautiful in a way, and he fought with the type of determination that made it very clear to you why so many would follow his lead into battle. It was hard not to admire his techniques.
Your eyes narrowed as you anticipated his next move - a powerful thrust aimed directly at your heart. With a deft sidestep, you evaded the fiery spear. You seized the opportunity to counterattack.
In a swift and fluid motion, you spun around and brought your sword down in an arc of frost. The initial projectile melted again, but it served its purpose. His spear was colder, leading to your blade itself to still be embedded with frost. It struck his spear at the precise moment he withdrew from his missed lunge. The impact was a masterful blend of strength and precision, your sword's edge slicing down the spear's hilt with a resonant clang. The spear's surface was momentarily freezing over. You shot a frost missile from your left hand for good measure on the grip.
Messmer faltered, his grip loosened as the temperature change reached his hands. You delivered a powerful upward strike, sending the spear flying from Messmer's grasp. The spear clattered onto the ground several feet away.
You could've sworn you saw a hint of a smile grace his lips.
You took a step back, readying yourself for his next assault and used the brief opportunity to speak once more. “I swear, I do not lie. I would sooner lay down my sword than speak falsehood. Nearly all whom I have met since my return to the Lands Between are but shadows of their former selves—mere shells, their souls long departed. I thought, by garbing myself as one of thy knights, I might gain time to discern if thou still held thy wits. Thou dost, and in doing so, I have caused thee offense.”
The snakes hissed as if trying to taste the truth in your words. Their green eyes softened and Messmer's forehead creased. “Why art thou here, Tarnished?”
“Officially, I seek thy flame. Personally, 'tis curiosity that hath led me to thy presence.”
Messmer summoned the flame you spoke of to his hand. It cast a warm glow on his face and you could see that while his own eye did not appear to focus on it, one of the snake head's eyes did.
He was blind. The snakes must help him see in some way. You realized with a start. That would explain the draped red cloth, probably to hide where the snakes embedded into his flesh. Despite this, you could not help but see a certain beauty in him. Not alike the beauty you found in battle. What is a battle without a worthwhile opponent? A partner.
“My flame is not thine to barter for… What dost thou find thyself so curious for, Tarnished?” Messmer queried, all snake eyes now gazing at you.
You let your words flow out of you without a filter. The lack of battle causing you to have a moment of bravery. “Who thou truly art. 'Tis one thing for a great commander to conquer lands, but it takes a greater man still to inspire legions to forsake their past lives and serve at his side.”
A puff of red smoke summoned Messmer's spear back to his hand. You should be afraid, to see a demigod with their weapons so ready to slay you. But that was not the reason your heart skipped a beat.
“What say thee, Tarnished? Hath thy judgment been passed? Art thou repulsed, as those led by Grace so often are?” His words cut the air with the ferocity of your blade but a few moments before.
“Quite the contrary. Thou art beautiful.”
Your confession hung in the air thickly. There was sincerity in your words and you could almost hear the demigod before you trying to process what you just said. You stared at each other. You, waiting on a reaction while having a tight grip on your blade. Him, a vision of perplexity as he was frozen in time. The flames dazzled in his hand and his spear was beginning to look awfully heavy as his shoulder shagged lower.
Perhaps he decided you were a liar. Perhaps he was defaulting back to his original mission. Messmer twirled his spear, before launching a fiery thrust aimed at your shoulder.
Anticipating the attack, you sidestepped and left a mist of frost in your wake to deflect the searing heat. Messmer's flame collided with the frost in a burst of steam that shadowed your movements.
You shifted your stance. It appears peace may not be an option, no matter how beautiful you found the foe.
A frost storm began to circle around you with the intention of dulling out any fire. Any flame he cast was turned to steam in the storm. There was a growing puddle on the battlefield of where the steam cooled.
Messmer altered to rely on his spear. He lunged forward into a series of swift jabs, each strike probing your defense with increasing finesse. You countered the strikes with your blade. Your spinning strikes were enough to clink off his spear with enough momentum that the tip was pushed away from you.
Messmer pivoted, and launched himself into the air to embed the spear into the ground. You leaped over him as spears arose from the ground. You landed with your sword poised to counterattack. When you struck forward, he dodged right. When he lunged forward, you feinted left.
The duel was beginning to feel more like a harmonious exchange, each movement blending seamlessly into the next. The room was transformed from an arena to a stage upon which you both performed an almost choreographed intricate dance, your weapons singing as they clashed.
There was enough ease in the battle that your mind was allowed to wander. You could not help but remember the tale Miriel told of Radagan and Renalla. While you had never voiced it aloud, you could never understand how two warriors on opposing sides could fall in love.
It was not until you saw a true smile arise on Messmer's face that you knew exactly how. When a person is equally matched in regards to skill, it allows time for the mind to wander and the eyes to drift. Your earlier assessment of him was not wrong. He was truly beautiful. He spoke with the eloquence of a man who demanded an audience and your heart was pounding in your chest.
Maybe you had met your dance partner after all.
You were not sure how in your admiration that you got to where you were. Your sword was cut on one of the prongs of his spear. A misstep.
Despite the mistake, Messmer's voice spoke like velvet in the quiet as you untangle your blade. “Thou fightest like none other, Tarnished. May I be so bold? I believe we both seek the same thing.”
"And what dost thou believe we both seek?" You asked.
His spear embedded into the ground again, this time a surge of fire bursting out. While you remembered to leap, your grasp of your frost storm must have slipped.
“Love.” A simple word, spoken softly as if he did not fully believe it for himself. You heard it.
He lunged towards you and you slipped on what must be a patch of ice, despite the heat radiating off of him. You saw the fear in his eyes as his spear was coming closer to your neck as you fell back.
There was a loud clang as he dropped his spear and lunged further forwards with his arms out. There was enough momentum and remaining ice that his sandals glided towards you. You fell into an unexpected embrace, gazing up at his face as a snake head looked at you from either side.
You, in a daze, slowly reached a hand up to embrace his face in return. His skin was surprisingly soft to the touch.
“Thou art right, Messmer. May I be bold? I would seeketh love with thee.” Your eyes fluttered between his face and the eyes of the snakes. There was surprise on each face as you spoke.
The processing time was quicker than earlier. The surprise softened to a quiet smile. He leant forward to reply. His mouth close enough that you could feel the breath as he spoke, “I wouldst like that.”
You leant upwards, moving your hand to the back of his head to pull him in the rest of the way. You kissed him with all the passion you usually reserve for your studies. He returned the favour, his lips kissing back with enough force that you deduce he must have been dreaming of an encounter such as this for years.
You had found a dance partner. And he a companion.