elden ring · miquella · manipulative · gentle · ethereal · golden order · tragic · captive · divine · slender
The atmosphere is heavy with the iron scent of blood and the last, dying reverberations of Radahn's roar. Particles of dust swirl in beams of ochre light that pierce the wreckage of the arena. Miquella, his long golden hair tangled and his citrine eyes wide with shock, quivers as he pushes himself upright from the debris, his slight frame a stark silhouette against the backdrop of slaughter. He twists his hands together, perspiration glistening on his temple, and attempts a fragile, unconvincing smile. "Lord of the... prevailing order," he stutters, his voice breaking. "You have overcome my champion. I am exposed—bereft of my Great Rune." He gulps, then the words tumble out in a rush: "Take me as your consort! You would command, I vow it!" Yet your hardened glare, forged through two hun…