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mrslittletall · 4 years

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Title: A Storm is coming (Chapter 28) Fandom: Dark Souls Characters: Chosen Undead/Dragon Slayer Ornstein Word Count: 7.115 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16603610/chapters/60837541 Previous chapter: https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/620106785321369600/title-a-storm-is-coming-chapter-27-fandom-dark

Summary: Tempest and Ornstein are venturing into the Oolacile Township in search of the key that opens the path to Gough.

(Author's note: It feels like it has been a while. Simply put, I was finishing up some requests and couldn't write as much on Storm as well as I was a bit uninspired, because I had to play through the game again and take notes. I now finally managed to do it (had to put the game offline because of all the invaders) and could write out the next chapter. Please enjoy!)

“It looks like the town has been swallowed by an earthquake.”, Tempest murmured, walking behind Ornstein.

“In a sense, this is what happened.”, Ornstein said as he went down the stairs right in front of them. “The township got swallowed by the abyss. It won't take long anymore and no living being will be able to even walk here anymore. We are only able because the abyss hasn't spread too far yet.”

Right after Ornstein had finished his explanation, he turned around and stabbed a dark coloured creature with too long limbs and too many eyes. It looked identical to the one that Artorias had killed before they had fought him, Tempest noticed.

“How did you know it was there?”, Tempest asked.

“I still remember a lot about this place. I have ventured into it after everything had been over. Back then, Sif was at my side. Or more, this will still happen. Speaking about Sif, we should look out for her. She hasn't been at Artorias' or Ciaran's side.”

“Sif..”, Tempest said and then clapped his hands. “Oh, Artorias' wolf companion! I guess something like a wolf isn't too easy to overlook.”

“Still, keep an eye out for her.”, Ornstein said and stopped in front of a few stairs. On their left was a roof of a sunken house. “Little Storm, step up on there.”, Ornstein said, pointing at it.

“Why?”, Tempest said and climbed on the roof. Right as he was on top of it, he learned just why Ornstein wanted him up there. Down there were a full four of these creatures with the awful bloated head. Bloathead! That would be the name Tempest would give them from now on.

“I lure them in and take the ones in the front and then you plunge on the ones in the back.”, Ornstein said. “Luckily they aren't very intelligent, having gone completely mad.”

The bloatheads only felt the need to confirm Ornstein's word by pointing and snickering at each other. Tempest didn't question Ornstein's choice of words... it was pretty obvious that these bloatheads once must have been the population of Oolacile, having been corrupted by the abyss. Technically, they were like hollows, there was no way for them to ever come back.

“I am ready, Ornstein.”, Tempest whispered and ducked down on the roof, sword in both hands.

“Good.”, Ornstein whispered back and then headed down the stairs with wide strides, readying his spear. As soon as the bloatheads heard his steps, all four of them charged. Ornstein impaled the two on the front on his spear and Tempest dropped down, sinking his sword in one of the bloathead's head... but missing the other! Damn, he should have taken this in account, Tempest and his weapon were far smaller, even the bloatheads towered over him. As Tempest still was busy trying to get his sword out of the swollen head, the last bloathead raised its claws to swipe at him. Tempest gasped and freed his sword by sheer force, only to stumble and crash against the wall behind him. As Tempest waited for the claws to come down, hands already on his Estus, the bloathead suddenly stopped moving and looked down in confusion, screaming in pain once it noticed the tip of a spear through his chest.

“That was dangerous, little Storm.”, Ornstein said. “My apologies, I should have known that you wouldn't have been big enough to plunge attack two of them.”

Tempest, still sitting there with his sword clutched in one hand and the other on his Estus, slowly stood up. “Thank you, Ornstein.”, he said.

“Don't mention it.”, Ornstein said. “Let's move on. And keep an eye out for the key and Sif.”

Tempest nodded and followed Ornstein who turned to the left. He stopped briefly in front of a dome with a tile, stepped on it and when nothing happened, he mumbled: “Inactive, of course...”

“Oh, is that an elevator like in the gardens?”, Tempest asked and Ornstein nodded his head, a nearly unnoticeable shift in his posture, but Tempest had spend enough time at Ornstein's side now to know that it was a nod.

As they went down more stairs, Tempest said: “Isn't it strange that the town sunk in a way that the stairs perfectly line up? How great is the chance of that happening?”

“We don't have to agonize our brains about this fact.”, Ornstein said. “Just be grateful for this coincidence. If not for the stairs, we would have been forced to climb down. That would have been very difficult with my arm.”

“How is it, by the way?”, Tempest asked, eyeing Ornstein's left arm. He knew that Ornstein was able to move it, so it was not broken, but Tempest had seen the wound and it was a bad one. It must hurt a lot and Ornstein was keeping a straight face. Or maybe he was clenching his teeth under this helmet of his and was merely keeping it together. For Tempest's sake.

“I'll live.”, Ornstein said. “I had more severe injuries, little Storm. It is a nuisance, nothing more.”

Tempest had the feeling that Ornstein wasn't telling the truth, but he didn't had any time to think more about it, because two more bloatheads came their way. Ornstein was taking down one of them and Tempest put himself in the way of the other, managing to take it down without taking a hit of its claws. It appeared that he truly was getting better at his whole fighting stuff.

“How comes it that you managed to take them down with one hit?”, Tempest asked as Ornstein removed his spear from the bloathead. The tip was more then coated in blood by now. Tempest had the feeling he could see tiny little abyssal sludge drip down from it too.

“I have been a knight for long enough to be able to attack the vital points with ease.”, Ornstein said. “You are still a bit more clumsy. You manage to hurt your foe, but you need to wound them several times until their wounds are life threatening. If you learn to strike at the vital points, you can end them far more quickly and easier and less painful.”

“I am impressed, Ornstein.”, Tempest smiled. “Even in your state and at this place, you still care about giving your adversary a clean death. You have to teach me how to do it.”

“Not really easy when there isn't anything to practice on.”, Ornstein murmured. “We can't just borrow the hollows from the archives... or could we...”

“Don't tell my you are considering it.”, Tempest laughed and then gasped as a ball of dark missed him by a beat, followed by snickering.

“A sorcerer.”, Ornstein said and readied his spear. “Leave it to me. Take out its friend.” Tempest slowly nodded and crept closer to his target as Ornstein was approaching the sorcerer. It was using a catalyst that Tempest had never seen before as well as the magic, he also never had seen it before. Sorceries were blue, pyromancy was red, but it was never dark purple.

As Ornstein was confronting the sorcerer, Tempest fought with his foe and tried to copy Ornstein by boring his sword right into a vital point, but he must have missed, because the bloathead only screeched and seemed to get angry. While his sword was stuck, Tempest quickly summoned a fireball and ended the sorry existence of the bloathead by burning its head off. Then he pulled his sword out and turned around, eyes falling onto something in a nearby building.

“Hey, Ornstein, there is something. Let me check it out.”, Tempest said.

“Little Storm, be careful.”, Ornstein said. “It could be a...”

Before Ornstein could finish his sentence, a hidden bloathead had charged at Tempest and dug its claws deep in his arm.

“...trap.”, Ornstein finished and then ran over to take care of the bloathead while Tempest was busy fiddling with his Estus.

“Oh, ouch.”, Tempest said as the claw marks closed, sometimes the closing of the wounds was hurting more than actually receiving them. “I should have known better, Ornstein. Once again you saved me.”

“Has getting injured at least been worth it?”, Ornstein asked.

Tempest looked at the corpse next to him and determined that the shining thing he had seen was a floating soul. “Poor guy.”, Tempest said. “Probably has been lured into the trap.” He then put the soul into his dark sign and stood up.

“...I will never get used seeing that.”, Ornstein said. Tempest looked at him with wide eyes before realization dawned.

“Oh, putting or removing souls in the dark sign? Believe me, Ornstein, it feels a lot worse than it looks like. It tries so desperately to cling onto anything you put in there, that removing souls is downright painful. If Undead are comfortable enough with each other, they can trade souls by touching each other, but letting your dark sign be touched feels super awkward, so I normally prefer to get them out, even though it hurts.”, Tempest rambled.

“I didn't need such a detailed explanation, little Storm.”, Ornstein said and then headed to the stairs leading down, but Tempest stopped him.

“Wait, Ornstein, there leads a path around that building!”, he said. “We are searching for Sif and the key, right? Shouldn't we search it off the beaten path?”

“You have a point.”, Ornstein said and followed Tempest. “Even though I haven't been here back then, please let me go first.”

“Of course.”, Tempest stepped to the side and let Ornstein take the lead.

The path was narrow and just wide enough for Ornstein to barely fit there. Tempest felt a bit of nausea as he looked down, that would be a deadly fall for sure. Of course he would just come back, but the impact would still hurt. Dying from falling of great heights was one of the most awful ways to die. He practically could feel how every bone in his body shattered and his organs ruptured. Alone the thought made Tempest gag and he put a hand in front of his mouth. He might only be able to vomit up the little Estus he had, but nonetheless, it would be uncomfortable.

On their way around the building only one other bloathead waited which Ornstein disposed off quickly and then the path ended.

“Dead end.”, Ornstein said, but Tempest nudged on Ornstein's thumb and pointed down.

“We can fall down and investigate there.”, he said.

“We won't come back that easily anymore then.”, Ornstein said.

“Nonsense, Ornstein, you can just jump back up.”, Tempest said with a smile.

“True...”, Ornstein said and dropped down. Or more, Tempest dropped down, for Ornstein it was more like climbing down a layer.

They continued to round another building until some wooden planks leading into a building to the right came to view. Tempest opened his mouth to inform Ornstein about it, but the knight just kept walking. Confused, Tempest followed him.

“Where are you going?”, Tempest asked.

“I want to check if there is an entrance to the building we are currently orbiting.”, Ornstein said.

They soon had to stop, no entrance in sight, but an orange soap stone message. Tempest rolled his eyes as he said: “That is better not another one of these 'try jumping' messages.”

“You Undead surely have a sense of humour.”, Ornstein chuckled.

“What is funny about sending people to their death?”, Tempest yelled. “What is written on the message?”

“Let there be light...”, Ornstein said.

“Huh, never had one of these before.”, Tempest shrugged. “Must be some new code or something.” Tempest already had turned around and was about to leave, but got hindered by Ornstein applying a slight pressure on his shoulder.

“Little Storm, you still have the skull lantern, right?”, he asked.

“The one from the catacombs? Sure.”, Tempest said and searched in his bag until he found the desired item. “Aha, there it is! But why do you need it, Ornstein? It's bright enough.”

“Shine it on that wall.”, Ornstein prompted.

Tempest shrugged again, but stepped forward to shine the light on the wall, gasping as an entrance appeared. “Well, that's new!”

“I knew it.”, Ornstein said with a hint of triumph in his voice. “This kind of illusion could only be made by an Oolacile sorcerer or someone who knows how to wield their sorceries. They have quite a repertoire of spells like this.”

“That's all fine and good, Ornstein, but now I want to know just what was so important to have been hidden behind an illusionary wall that can only be broken by light.” Without awaiting Ornstein's answer, Tempest went into the room. He could only spot a single chest and gave it a careful nudge with his sword before opening it, finding only a small silver pendant inside of it.

“That's all?”, Tempest said. “Just a pendant? Hm, this shape looks familiar...”

“But...”, Ornstein said, voice quivering. “Why is it here?!”

“Ornstein, you know what that is?”, Tempest said, turning around to Ornstein, dangling the pendant in front of his face.

“That pendant... was given to Artorias.”, Ornstein said. “It has a special power. It can ward off the dark sorceries, the ones we have seen earlier. It is protection against the sorceries of the abyss. Why is it here? Artorias should have had it.”

“Maybe he lost it?”, Tempest suggested. “And one of the Oolacile sorcerers picked it up and hid it to sell later? You said the illusion was Oolacile magic, right?”

“I want to believe that, little Storm, I really want, but...”, Ornstein took a deep breath. “Artorias was able to use rudimentary Oolacile sorceries too. That illusion wasn't very complicated... but why... just why should Artorias leave the thing behind that should protect him? Unless...”

Tempest looked at Ornstein in anticipation. He was right, it didn't make sense. Also, even if Artorias had lost the pendant, would he have just given up the search for it?

“...unless he never intended to fight.”, Ornstein finished.

“But... why shouldn't Artorias want to fight?”, Tempest said, looking from the pendant to Ornstein. “He was tasked with slaying the beast of the abyss, wasn't he? And even if he didn't want to fight, bringing the pendant with him wouldn't have been a sign of ill will. It was for protection, not offense.”

“Yes... you are right, little Storm, this doesn't make any sense.”, Ornstein said, raising his left arm to rest a hand on his helmet only to carefully remove it and let it dangle loosely at his side again. “I am reading too much in this. It probably got stolen from him and he couldn't find it, then decided that he could take on the beast without help.”

“Shall we take it with us?”, Tempest asked.

“Yes, it will help against the dark sorceries. Hold it in both hands and concentrate on the magic within, then you can summon forth a barrier for one or two seconds, even if you haven't an affinity for the sorceries.”

“So, no key, but a pendant.”, Tempest said and hung the pendant onto his belt, next to his Estus flask. “Where to now?”

“There was an entrance earlier into another building.”, Ornstein said. “Let's go there.”

Tempest nodded and followed Ornstein, cursing as another dark ball almost hit the two of them. Or more, Ornstein dodged out of the way in the last second, dragging Tempest with him and then stabbing the bloathead sorcerer into one of its too many eyes. Ornstein then sunk down, breathing heavily.

“You alright, Ornstein?”, Tempest asked as he scurried back to his feet.

“I am... fine.”, Ornstein said. “Just need a moment. That hurt.”

Tempest nodded in understanding, that must have been quite a strain on Ornstein's injured arm. Tempest decided to scout out the area. He had hold onto the pendant just in case, but he was more than glad that he did, because a row of orbs was about to rain down on him. He had enough finesse to activate the pendant's powers which let a silver shiver appear around him and indeed cancel out all the dark magic.

“Amazing!”, Tempest said, backing away, staring at the pendant. Such a powerful tool and Artorias had either locked it away or lost it? It was hardly believable.

“What have you seen down there?”, Ornstein asked, standing up.

“Two more sorcerer.”, Tempest said. “Are you sure you can move on, Ornstein?”

“Yes.”, Ornstein said, stepping nearer to the stairs. “Little Storm, I could need your help... Go first and use the pendant to cancel out their attacks, so that I can use an opening to attack.”

“I will try my best.”, Tempest said and clutched the pendant, slowly moving forwards, trying not to think how much it would hurt when he messed up the timing.

To his surprise, everything went well. When exactly had he become competent? Though, Tempest didn't want to imagine how hard it would have been to traverse the township without Ornstein at his side. Then he probably would have died at least ten times already. He also would never had discovered the pendant. Tempest asked himself if it would have been possible to take on this duo of sorcerers without the pendant.

“Three chests are here.”, Ornstein said. “But only one of them is still closed.”

“Maybe it's a mimic?”, Tempest asked.

“No, not this one.”, Ornstein said. “Can you take a look inside, little Storm?”

“Sure...”, Tempest came closer and even though Ornstein had sounded sincere about it not being a mimic, he nudged it with his sword before opening the lid. He then produced a single scroll from the chest and unfolded.

“Woah.”, Tempest said.

“What is written on it?”, Ornstein asked.

“It's a sorcery. It is called Dark Orb and it looks like the thing that sorcerers have thrown at us. It is explained in full detail how to use it.”, Tempest shuddered. “Alone holding that scroll feels wrong.”

“Damn, so that is how the dark sorceries managed to escape into the world.”, Ornstein sighed.

“Ornstein, what is the dark sorcery?”, Tempest asked, sitting down next to the chest.

“It's the magic of the abyss.”, Ornstein said. “It's hard to put, but... little Storm, you know about the four souls, right?”

“Of course!”, Tempest said. “Everyone does! Life and death, light and dark!”

“The dark soul it is... the source of the abyss.”, Ornstein said. “You use humanity sprites to reverse your hollowing, little Storm. Now imagine what would happen when you would use ten of them at once.”

“Uh...”, Tempest said. “I don't think I would appear human anymore...”

“That is what happened to Oolacile.”, Ornstein sighed. “The abyss is the dark, but in such a potency that not even bearers of the dark soul are save against corruption. The monsters we have fought against... all of them were once citizens of this city.”

“I know.”, Tempest said in a whisper. “I already knew that they were hollow...”

“You are taking this surprisingly lightly.”, Ornstein said.

“All this stuff has already happened, right?”, Tempest said, standing up, pocketing the scroll. “There is no need to dwell in the past. I just hope that we learned from it.”

Ornstein whispered something that Tempest couldn't hear.

“What was that, Ornstein?”, he asked.

“Oh, uh, nothing.”, Ornstein said. “Little Storm, we haven't found anything important here. Let's head back.”

“Wait.”, Tempest said. “I want to take a look at this corpse!”

“Why?”, Ornstein said.

“I am interested if they have anything valuable with them.”, Tempest said. “Besides, who knows if one of them has the key we are searching for?”

“You have a point.”, Ornstein said and leaned against the wall as Tempest was checking out the pockets of the dead sorcerer and thoroughly investigated their catalyst.

“Look at their heads.”, Tempest said and put both hands around it, lifting it from the ground. “They are so swollen, it wouldn't surprise me when they have put stuff in their heads.”

“Now I doubt that, little Storm.”, Ornstein said.

“Haha, true, I was just kidding.”, Tempest said and wanted to let the head fall back onto the ground, but before he could open his hands, the body fell away on its own, leaving Tempest standing there with only the head.

“Oh, ew!”, he screeched and yanked the head on the ground.

“You wanted to take a look at them, little Storm.”, Ornstein said, completely unfazed.

“I didn't had a clue they would lose their heads.”, Tempest said and then curiosity hit and he went nearer to the severed head, expecting to see nothing but blood and gore inside, but to his surprise, the head indeed was hollow.

“Woah.”, Tempest said. “You could even stick your own head into there. Of course, I don't have a clue who ever would want to do that. You need to be a special kind of crazy to even consider that.”

“Let me guess, there are no keys in there.”, Ornstein said.

“No keys.”, Tempest confirmed. “Let's head back.”

As Ornstein already went up the stairs, Tempest saw an exit to the house he hadn't seen earlier. He stepped out only to see a jump that wasn't doable for him. For Ornstein it might have been possible, but in case he would fail, there was a really deep drop, so Tempest decided to save this place for later, should they even need to check it.

“Don't dawdle, little Storm.”, Ornstein said, waiting in the middle of the house, next to another exit.

“Huh, should we check that out?”, Tempest asked.

“It won't hurt.”, Ornstein said.

“Speaking of hurt, how is your arm?”, Tempest asked as the stepped out on another small ledge and started to surround the building.

“I'll live.”, Ornstein once again said.

“Alright, but tell me when it gets worse, yes?”, Tempest said, not expecting any reply and he also didn't get any. They reached the end of the narrow pathway in silence with a bloathead sorcerer turning their back to them. “Oh, perfect...”, Tempest whispered and drove his sword deep into its back, the sorcerer going out without ever knowing what hit it.

“See, if you aim for the vital points, it is so much more effective.”, Ornstein said.

“Well, that was easy.”, Tempest said. “That one wasn't moving.” His gaze then fell on something in the hand of the bloathead. He bend down and picked up a piece of wood, it looked like someone had processed it. “What's that?”, he said, staring into the patterns of the mask, yeah, it looked like a mask.

“Oh, one of Gough's carvings.”, Ornstein said. “I guess some of the citizens bought them from him. Hmm... what was it again? Throw it on the ground, then we know.”

“Why should I do that?”, Tempest asked but complied and threw the mask on the ground, flinching when a low but gentle voice called out “I'm sorry”.

“Ah, the one for apologies.”, Ornstein said, seemingly satisfied with himself. “Gough loved to occupy his hands with whittling, he would always pour a bit of himself in every piece.”

“But... how...”, Tempest said, trying to get back his composure. “It did talk, Ornstein.”, he said, giving the dragon slayer a side glance. He was talking about this mask as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“It's Gough's feeling that went into that mask.”, Ornstein said. “That is why we can hear his voice.”

Ornstein then averted his gaze and went back into the building without saying another word. Tempest only assumed that he dragon slayer had to face his feelings regarding Gough, another one of those that he lost and would be forced to see again, knowing that he couldn't change his inevitable fate.

“...Do you mind when I hold onto that?”, Tempest asked once he had hurried after Ornstein.

“No...”, Ornstein said. “I always wished I had taken some of them with me back then...”

Knowing that this conversation would only open up wounds, Tempest let the subject rest and followed Ornstein until they were back at the beginning. Ornstein kneeled down and let Tempest climb him to get back up, the small Undead paid extra attention to not jostle Ornstein's left arm, and then Ornstein jumped up himself.

After they were back at their original location, Tempest squinted at a chest at the end of some stairs, it was sitting in the middle of a round platform, wide open. Tempest immediately didn't trust this chest. At least there was only one bloathead on the stairs which Ornstein took care of without trouble, but then Tempest heard the sound of another Undead arriving.

“Wait.”, he said and then whispered. “I haven't touched a white soapstone sign...”

“Then it can only mean that we get attacked.”, Ornstein whispered back. Tempest turned around to look at the one who was so dumb to invade him while Ornstein protected him and gasped as he recognized the silhouette.

“Chester!”, he blurted out.

“Someone you know?”, Ornstein asked.

“He was hanging around the coliseum.”, Tempest said, ducking as Chester used a crossbow to fire three bolts in rapid succession. “He was kinda awkward to talk to, so I didn't do it much...”

Ornstein sighed and charged at Chester, his spear ready, but Chester simply lowered his crossbow and evaded the attack with ease, leaving Ornstein surprised. Seldom had he seen someone who could keep up with his speed. Tempest used the opportunity that Ornstein had given him and tried to cut down Chester with a two handed slash, but before he could even reach him, Tempest lost the ground under his feet and fell. Chester apparently had tripped him up.

“That guy is fast.”, Tempest said as he scrambled back on his legs, seeing how Ornstein avoided another flurry of bolts.

“Little Storm, let's try a pincer attack.”, Ornstein said. Tempest gave Ornstein a nod and made space between them, intending to attack Chester from the left while Ornstein was coming from the right. It was more than a surprise for the both of them when Chester jumped up and landed behind them, both of them struggling to stop their attacks to not accidentally hurt each other (or kill, Tempest doubted that he would have survived that blow of Ornstein's spear). As Tempest turned around, he saw that Chester had his crossbow loaded again, aimed at Ornstein who currently was standing there, holding his arm, having jostled it when he tried to not kill Tempest.

Tempest didn't think, he just ran and put himself between the bolts and Ornstein. Getting impaled by three of them hurt like hell, one landed in his shoulder, one in his upper arm and one in his chest, but gladly seemed to miss the most vital organs. Tempest still felt a cough coming and tasted blood, his lung was pierced for sure.

“Little Storm.”, Ornstein cried and then charged at Chester, driving his spear deep into his chest, red smoke billowing from him. Chester tried to fire his crossbow again, but Ornstein put his whole weight on Chester and stepped on him once he was down, pulling the weapon out of the phantom and slashing over his face. After that, the phantom vanished.

In the meantime, Tempest had found his Estus and after taking two sips of it, the bolts had fallen out of his body and the wounds were closed. Still, Tempest never wanted to have the experience of being impaled by three bolts ever again.

“We don't even have time for this.”, Ornstein grumbled. “Are you alright, little Storm?”

Tempest raised both his hands and gave Ornstein a thumbs up with a wide smile. “Yes, I am fine. Let's move on.”

“Why did you protect me, little Storm?”, Ornstein asked as they went down the stairs.

“Isn't that obvious, Ornstein?”, Tempest said, his eyes going wide. “I can't die.”

“But... every death is eating at your humanity.”, Ornstein said. “Aren't you afraid? What happens when one day you come back hollow...?”

Tempest couldn't help but smile at Ornstein. He was worried about him. The dragon slayer didn't admit it, but they had become friends. Tempest surely would have loved for it to be something more, but just knowing that he cared... that was enough. It should be enough. It had to be enough.

“I won't go hollow as long as you are with me, Ornstein.”, Tempest said. The dragon slayer fell quiet for quite some time before he suddenly spoke again.

“So, do you know why that... Chester was invading you? Did you say something to upset him?”

Tempest shrugged. “I don't know.”, he said. “Maybe he was pissed because I didn't buy much? His stuff was totally overpriced. I just didn't want to make him mad. Guess I did. Or he was bored. Or frustrated. He said that he also was coming from another time...”

“Huh, another one who got brought here...”, Ornstein said. “Anyway, he doesn't seem to be important. Back then, Ciaran and Gough told me that the Undead they encountered wasn't wearing a mask.” Ornstein glanced down at Tempest. “Because they probably spoke about you, that matches up.”

“It's so wild to think about that Ciaran and Gough have met me before I have met you, Ornstein.”, Tempest said. “Getting thrown back in time sure is weird.”

“At least you don't have to worry for anyone recognizing you.”, Ornstein sighed. They had arrived down at the platform and Tempest was heading over to the chest to give it a good hit. Of course it stood up and started to snicker.

“Oh, have you learned to spot mimics now?”, Ornstein said, coming nearer to help Tempest with the fight, who was currently dodging a flurry of kicks.

“Come on, Ornstein, that was obvious.”, Tempest said, cutting the mimic into the arm. “A chest in plain sight in the middle of a very alluring looking platform? That had to be a fake.”

“Very well observed.”, Ornstein cut one of the mimic's legs with his spear while Tempest was driving his sword deep into the mimic's tongue as it had tried to grab him. “This mimic surely chose a poor spot waiting for travellers.”

Once the mimic laid on the ground, it coughed up another mask. Without hesitating, Tempest threw the mask on the ground, to hear “very good” ringing out.

“Aw, thank you.”, he said and bowed. “Wait, why am I talking to a mask?!”, he yelled and picked it up. “These things are strangely endearing.”, he said as he glanced to Ornstein.

“I know. If you want more of them, Gough sells them.”

Tempest briefly asked himself, if Gough had a mask that would say “I love you”, but he probably wouldn't get it anyway. He knew that Ornstein wasn't liking him back in that way. Besides, they had other stuff to worry about. Getting back to their own time for example. And treating Ornstein's wound. His mental state probably also wasn't the best, but the dragon slayer was moving on as if he hadn't had to witness the death of his best friend by the hands of the one he had to protect. Tempest could only imagine what kind of whirlwind of emotions was brewing in Ornstein right now. By acting as the leader and captain of their venture, Ornstein probably tried to distract himself from everything.

The duo moved on and after a few more foes and one sorcerer who was mean enough to stand at the end of a narrow pathway and even had the guts to laugh when Tempest managed to get hit by their magic. One bloathead later, they stood in front of a rather large building.

“It seems like we are pretty deep now.”, Tempest said.

“Still no key in sight.”, Ornstein murmured. “Just where is it hidden?”

“Why are you so sure that it is here, Ornstein?”, Tempest asked.

“Gough said that the Oolacile citizens had locked that door. He simply was fine with it, because... you probably know that giants were mocked and feared because of their brutish behaviour... Gough was never one of them, but they still hurt him horribly. He told me that he cherished the solitude without the fear of being wronged again.”

“But we are going to open up that door.”, Tempest said.

“That is why I want to find the key. So we can lock it again when we leave.”

Tempest nodded and moved on, closely behind Ornstein, who peeked around the corner in the building. “That reeks like a trap.”, Ornstein whispered. “Let us enter it and be prepared for the worst.”

Tempest nodded and once they were in, they were attacked instantly by a bloathead. Tempest rushed forward to help Ornstein, who for a change, seemed to struggle, but had to turn around and engage in combat with another bloathead that dropped down from the upper level to not let Ornstein been caught in a pincer attack.

Once Tempest's foe was down, he looked at Ornstein, who held his left arm and panted.

“Does it hurt?”, Tempest asked, worry shining in his big, blue eyes.

“It's fine.”, Ornstein said. “Just accidentally tried to take my spear in both hands. I am fine.”

Are you?, Tempest asked himself, wandering around the building in search of more bloatheads, but he only found some rubbish.

“Where to now?”, Tempest asked. Ornstein had already moved to the left of the room, looking down some stairs.

“Well, that is the trap I was anticipating.”, Ornstein said and Tempest knew instantly what he meant. The room down there was full of bloatheads.

“I guess I use my bow...”, Tempest said. “I may not be able to take them out, but I can at least lure them out.”

“Good idea, but don't alert the sorcerers.”, Ornstein said. Tempest nodded and found a spot at the top of the stairs, couching there, fiddling with his arrows and then shooting two in quick succession, one of them hitting a bloathead in the arm and the other one missing, falling onto the ground with a clank.

“Now they definitely know we are there.”, Tempest said and hold his breath, anticipating if their plan worked or if they would get rained down by dark sorceries. They seemed to be in luck, because the two bloatheads started running up the stairs and apparently that they were gone, didn't seem to interest the others.

“Here they come.”, Tempest said after he released his breath and Ornstein waited on top of the stairs, shoving his spear through the heads of both bloatheads at once, blood and goo coming out of them.

“Disgusting.”, Ornstein said, working on removing his spear as Tempest felt the air flicker around him and didn't move out of the way fast enough, his left arm got a nasty dark burn once the sorcery had hit him.

“Ow.”, Tempest growled. “Why does this burn? It isn't even a pyromancy.”

“It seems like you alerted one of the sorcerers.”, Ornstein said, coming over and looking down next to Tempest, where indeed a sorcerer was laughing and preparing a new spell.

“Out of the way, little Storm!”, Ornstein yelled and yanked Tempest out of the danger zone, a dark fog which looked extremely uncomfortable.

“What is that?!”, Tempest said, eyes wide. He never had seen a sorcery like that before.

“Nothing good, that is for sure.”, Ornstein said and then barely avoided another dark orb that got shot at them from the right. “What the...”

“The other one noticed us!”, Tempest gasped and fumbled for his bow, ignoring the pain in his arm, he could heal it later. Loading an arrow into the bow and spraining it, aiming, Tempest murmured: “Please hit.” as he let go. The arrow turned out to be a bullseye, because the sorcerer fell down the beam they had been standing on. “Success!”, Tempest jumped up, but Ornstein was fixated on the stairs.

“Little Storm, the others have seen us. Quick, let's go down and take them out. Take care of the sorcerer that is trying to end us from behind the stairs.”

Tempest only nodded and followed Ornstein, arrow already in his bow, aiming and once they were down, Ornstein charged into the bloatheads that just wanted to come up the stairs and Tempest narrowly avoided another dark orb before planting an arrow directly into the chest of the sorcerer. Unfortunately it wasn't a deadly wound, so he dropped his bow in favour of his sword and went into close combat, getting another painful wound as he slashed the sorcerer into bits.

Once Tempest was done, he looked for Ornstein who was leaning against a pillar, two more bloatheads were laying dead a few feet away from him and his spear was coated with blood. Ornstein seemed to be short of breath, so Tempest went over and asked: “Ornstein, do you need a break?”

“No.”, Ornstein said without hesitating. “Let's move on.”

It wouldn't surprise Tempest when Ornstein would manage to get sick once they were done. He was already hurt, he was pushing himself too hard. However, Tempest knew two things. Once, Ornstein would keep to his duty and follow him to the world's end and second, Tempest would be unable to slay the beast of the Abyss on his own. Well, maybe after hundred deaths, but without Ornstein at his side hollowing would await him sooner or later...

Tempest didn't want to think about this and instead searched the room. He found several exits, one led up some stairs farther into the building and two let back outside, the township even more garbled and full of abyss sludge than before. He even found a sorcery scroll, which read Dark Fog and as Tempest read the description about the spell, he was more than glad that it hadn't hit him.

“So, there are several paths.”, Tempest said once he came back to Ornstein, who had straightened himself up. “I would advise to go into the door right to the stairs next. It seems to lead to the rest of the house.”

Ornstein nodded and started walking without saying another word. Tempest silently followed him. The both of them landed in some kind of attic and Tempest was a bit disappointed, because the path led outside again, but it turned out, that it was simply a balcony. A bloathead was hidden there which Ornstein for once didn't manage to kill in one hit, so Tempest ran over and finished the job.

“You are sure you don't need a break, Ornstein?”, Tempest tried once again, only for the stubborn dragon slayer to shake his head. Tempest sighed and leaned against he wall, spotting a treasure chest from the corner of his eyes. “Hey, Ornstein, there is another chest. Maybe this one finally has the key we search. But... I don't think we will get to it from here.”

“Think about this logically, little Storm.”, Ornstein said and his breath was definitely coming shorter. “There is another entrance a little up. From there, we should be able to reach the room.”

“Makes sense...”, Tempest said and just as Ornstein said, they could drop down easily from the room higher up. Tempest went to the chest straight away, but stopped in front of it, frowning.

“Just to be sure.”, he said and gave it a smack with his sword. How Ornstein actually could find out if a chest was a mimic or not by sight alone, he didn't knew, but he was glad that he tested it, because the chest actually turned out to be a mimic!

“Oh, that just had to be true.”, Tempest sighed and prepared himself to fight he chest, getting kicked directly into the face once and one time almost eaten, he only managed to prevent this fate by slashing the tongue of the mimic, which made it howl in pain and splattered hot blood down on Tempest. Only when he had worn the mimic down by cutting at its legs constantly and the moment that Ornstein's spear came out between its teeth, did Tempest notice, that he mostly had fought on his own.

The mimic dropped down and coughed out... a key!

“Ornstein, is that it?!”, Tempest held the key up, eyes glowing in excitement. He would be able to meet Gough. ...He also would be forced to kill a dragon though, so Tempest's excitement went a bit away.

“Yes, that is the key.”, Ornstein said. “Who would have thought a mimic had stolen it?! And so far in. Let's head back.”

The duo went back to the big room which was still littered with bloathead corpses. Ornstein was heading to the stairs, but Tempest nudged him and pointed to the exit.

“...I have scouted this area earlier and there was a shortcut.”, he murmured.

“Oh, of course, I completely forgot about this.”, Ornstein said, a hand at his forehead which he quickly lowered down again, because it was his injured arm.

A few minutes later they both stood in front of the door to Gough's tower, Tempest looking at the key in his hands. “So, I go up there, introduce myself and ask him if he shoots the dragon for me?”, he asked.

“Yes, pretty much.”, Ornstein said. “As with Ciaran, I will stay out of side. They can't know that I am here. Don't mention me.”

Tempest nodded and the key creaked in the lock. He took a deep breath and strode through it, bracing himself to meet even the last knight of Gwyn. (Author's note: I hope you are all ready for Gough and Kalameet in the next chapter! Please write me your thoughts about this chapter into the comments.) Chapter 29

#dark souls #fanfiction #dragon slayer ornstein #chosen undead #oc tempest #orndead #littlewritesstuff

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crimsonlocks · 4 years

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CHARACTER SHEET repost. do not reblog.

𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

FULL NAME. Ornstein PRONUNCIATION. Orn-ssst-ayn. NICKNAME: Orny, Orn, Ornsty, Orin, but he doesn’t like when you call him one. GENDER. Cis Male HEIGHT. 260cm AGE. unknown, but anywere between 35 and 3.000 ZODIAC. Leo SPOKEN LANGUAGES. Anor Londo common tongue

𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

HAIR COLOR. Crimson red, curly, very long, EYE COLOR. Green SKIN TONE. Pale BODY TYPE. tall, ripped, broad shoulderse, six pack, visible muscles ACCENT. None VOICE. rather deep, but not too deep. Speaks very calmly and collected. Almost never raises his voice. DOMINANT HAND. Right POSTURE. Straight SCARS. Too many. Mostly burns from the dragon war, some scars from the Chosen Undead and a scar on his temple from Smough’s failed mercy killing TATTOOS. None BIRTHMARKS. Freckles MOST NOTICEABLE FEATURE(S). Very tall, has fangs for canines, crimson red hair, lots of scars on his body, but not on his face.

𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 !

PLACE OF BIRTH. Near Anor Londo HOMETOWN. A village near Anor Londo BIRTH WEIGHT. Usual BIRTH HEIGHT. Usual MANNER OF BIRTH. Unknown, because he was a foundling, but because he was clearly a newborn, it got determinded that he wasn’t born far from the orphanage. FIRST WORDS. (holy, I never thought about that... but I would like to think that it was paint) SIBLINGS. Unknown, but he considers the other children in the orphanage as siblings. PARENTS. Unknown, the matron of the orphanage was his closest parental figure PARENTAL INVOLVEMENT. None, he got abandoned as a newborn. The matron of the orphanage did her best to raise him, but with so many kids in her care he ended up being a bit neglected. Especially because Ornstein was the quiet kid.

𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 !

OCCUPATION. Knight, Dragon Slayer CURRENT RESIDENCE. Anor Londo, travelling the world, Arch Dragon Peak CLOSE FRIENDS. Artorias, Ciaran, Gough, Gwyndolin, for RP interactions, Quelarah so far RELATIONSHIP STATUS. depending on verse, taken in Blooming Anor Londo (NK), married in Forsaken Anor Londo (Smough), widowed in Wanderer verse, taken again in Arch Draon Peak (reconciled with NK) FINANCIAL STATUS. Fine. He isn’t rich, but he gets a nice pay for being a knight, though because he gets food and room in the cathedral, he gets paid much less as one would think. DRIVER’S LICENSE. Modern verse Ornstein is a cop and needs to have a driver licence, so yes CRIMINAL RECORD. Well, genociding an entire species counts, right? VICES. He gets jealous easily.

𝐬𝐞𝐱 & 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 !

SEXUAL ORIENTATION. gay ROMANTIC ORIENTATION. gay PREFERRED EMOTIONAL ROLE. submissive | dominant | switch. PREFERRED SEXUAL ROLE. submissive | dominant | switch. LIBIDO. Average TURN ON’S. Biting, scratching, everything that invokes light pain, food play TURN OFF’S. Anything that hurts more than just a bit, gross stuff (besides golden shower, he is willing to do this) RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES. He has troubles saying that he is in love, but shows it mostly with silent cuddles. Ornstein will rarely say “I love you.”, just pull them into a hug and tell them that he cares for them like this.

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 !

CHARACTER’S THEME SONG. Boss music. HOBBIES TO PASS TIME. Painting, playing the piano, doing parkour, MENTAL ILLNESSES. Depression, PTSD, Anxiety PHYSICAL ILLNESSES. Ornstein’s body is rather healthy, but he tends to get a psychsomatic sickness when feeling mentally unwell. PHOBIAS. Dogs SELF CONFIDENCE LEVEL. You would think it is high, but Ornstein constantly thinks he has to proof himself or people wouldn’t care for him. He thinks that people only care for him when he is the dragon slayer and would hate and loathe Ornstein, the man behind the golden armour. VULNERABILITIES. breaks down easily but never will show it, dogs, cats and birds, having to eat his own food, is very anxious, when he messes up, he will probably hide for hours in his room because he is so embarrassed about. Gets embarrassed about everything. tagged by: stolen! tagging: crime it up!

#dash games #cathedral & church: headcanon #clad in golden armour: about ornstein

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just-ornstein · 4 years

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The meme for Ornstein and Fandral please.

Ornstein:

OTP for them: Ornstein/Smough, no surprise there. Also still Ornstein and @general-grey Caspiron. That one always holds a special spot for me.

BROTP for them: Uhhh probably Artorias, Ciaran and Gough. They’re his buddies. Never shipped him romantically with any of those either. I also loved the idea of him and Gwyndolin being good buddies.

Other ships: Ornstein/Nameless King... I think that’s it? Him with Gwyndolin was my first ship tbh, so that one is still somewhat interesting as well.

What kind of fic I’d write about them: Hurt/comfort, hurt/comfort, hurt/comfort! That one fits best for Ornstein all the way. He’s a sad boy.

A favorite canon moment: He has not much canon screen stuff. xD Sure my OC version of him has plenty of time... But with the canon game the only thing he has is a boss fight in Dark Souls I.

Color that reminds me of them: Gold and Red, always. Also Cyan/Turquoise, because it’s the colour of lightning and what I headcanon his eyes to look like.

Song that reminds me of them: Miserere Mei Deus!

A headcanon about them: Too many haha, it’s why I ended up making my version an OC because he turned to be so very different. I suppose one of the headcanons I still strongly believe is that you do fight the actual Ornstein and Smough, Smough died during the battle and Ornstein went on a trip to look for his lost Master the Nameless King. Ornstein managed to find said location and lived with him for about a week until he succumed to illness and died. He now lays buried at the stone altar close to where you fight Nameless King. It is outside and stands tall on some sort of hill, looking out over the mountains.

A random AU I think up on the spot for them: World of Warcraft AU where he’d likely be a Dragon... I just am not too fond of the whole possibly making it possible for players to turn into Dragons. So it’s an idea in name alone.

Anything else: Ornstein is still my baby, love him with all my heart. His first name is Glaurung as well (Tolkien!). <3

Fandral Staghelm:

OTP for them: Fandral/Xavius (only in the AU Dazzittok came up with) or Illidan/Fandral (a crack pairing yes, but I think they could have a very interesting dynamic).

BROTP for them: God... Everyone is an asshole towards Fandral so he doesn’t have many friends. But him and Broll seemed close? So perhaps those two. I also like to think of how Malfurion would have been with him in the past before everything went downhill.

Other ships: Fandral/Tyrande... My guilty pleasure hehe. Their constant bickering is super entertaining.

What kind of fic I’d write about them: Once again Hurt/Comfort cause his entire story is sad and depressing... Maybe a bit slice of life though? I’d love to go into more details of what went on inside of his head after his son died.

A favorite canon moment: I LOVED the final confrontation with him in the book Stormrage. He seemed so far gone, deeply hurt and overal like a mess and I think the writer portrayed this very well. If only Malfurion had send him to the Moonglade to recover instead of a prison in Mount Hyjal which he somehow thought would cure him??

Color that reminds me of them: Hahaha... Emerald Green.

Song that reminds me of them: Leaves From The Vine and It’s Been So Long by Caleb Hyles

A headcanon about them: Hmmm... Not really? I really love the idea Dazzittok has that Fandral was aware Xavius was playing tricks, but just wanted something to hold on to. I like to imagine him and Illidan at least knew each other in a sense and Fandral would sometimes visit him in prison if permitted. While this one is already kinda canon I also always felt Fandral wasn’t “corrupted” like WoW likes to tell their villains are, but rather very, very ill mentally. Losing his partner, his son, his granddaughter, having his Shan’do turn his back on him whenever he needed him, constantly being shoved aside for your ideas (and right after everyone screaming about how good some of them are, not even giving credit where is due) it does things to a man.

A random AU I think up on the spot for them: A happy AU... Please. One where his entire family is still alive and he can be happy.

Anything else: My fave wow character hands down, I know he’s rather unpopular but I love him!

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decaffeinated-squirrel · 5 years

Text

Shitty headcanon I can't get out of my mind because I'm trash Part 1;

- Midir was actually found by Ornstein (and sort of Artorias?) before he had hatched.

- The captain had been sent out with Artorias and a handful of senior silver knights to an area that was rumored to host a nest of dragons and a lone man living amongst them, not much further past New Londo.

- Upon arriving they were greeted with a rather dark sight; the place looked war-torn, bodies both dragon and humanoid littered almost every square foot, the ground cracked and oozed a thick black/violet liquid which spewed forth a stench more foul and heavy than the death that was presented. There were remnants of a nest strewn about and amidst the debris were various eggs which had been broken and cracked and seemingly enveloped, a lone intact one sat in a puddle of the foul ooze that had covered it's kind.

- Ornstein, thinking the egg was dead due to the decay and the utter destruction of the area surrounding it decided to take it back to Anor Londo to display in the gallery.

- The bitch hatched on the way home and immediately latched onto "mom". Artorias had to wrestle Ornstein to the ground and sit on him so he wouldn't kill the hatchling then try and untangle it from the captain's plume with the help of another knight, all the while trying his damnedest (and failing) not to laugh.

- Artorias convinced him after he'd calmed down that instead of killing it that they should take it to Gwyn, a young dragon hadn't been seen in hundreds of years. Reluctantly he agreed, eyeing the scaled baby that refused to leave him be (currently digging through a pouch tied to his chausses that contained dried meat.)

- Once home they held a meeting with Gwyn explaining the situation with the Dragon nest, black ooze, and why there's currently a live fucking dragon on his most revered dragon slayer's shoulder currently hissing at /him/ in his own damn castle.

- The explanation went smoothly (?) depending on who you ask. (Artorias thought it went great and Ornstein wanted to die.)

- Gwyn thought about what to do with it and had come up with a solution, however it would take time. The Ringed City and Filianore would need a guardian once it was completed, and what better than a beast feared by the gods themselves to defend it? If it could be tamed...

- Ornstein was given the honour of raising the dragon and making sure it would defend their kind to its last breath by a pleased and almost giddy Gwyn. He wasn't sure if he wanted to kill Artorias where he stood for convincing him to bring that foul scaled turd back home, kill the scaled turd, or light himself on fire. He was a dragon slayer, not dragon raiser. He hated these things with a passion and devoted his life to learning everything he could to bring them to their deaths.

- And that is why he was chosen, he knew everything there was to know about dragons. That and it had already imprinted on him, and making a switch could theoretically ruin the chances this dragon would remain loyal. And Seath... Was questionable these days.

- Artorias was ecstatic and offered to help him, but admitted he knew little when it came to the care of dragons. It can't be too much harder than learning to care for a dire wolf, can it?

- Ornstein still wanted to kill him.

- Artorias was the one to give Midir his name one evening after an annoyed Ornstein started sarcastically responding to his needy little chirps/squawks/hisses with "Yes, my dear?" while they had been trying to finish their paperwork. Midir had then promptly knocked over the captain's ink well after not being given whatever it was he'd been squawking for.

- Midir is just a bit smaller than Sif and much more lithe. They run about the halls playing often. (Sif is still a puppy kinda)

- Midir is a little shit in various ways, one of the more annoying being his habit of nipping Ornstein on the nose, ankles or for some weird reason his elbows if he's in a foul mood. Or just wants to mess with Ornstein.

- You can often hear Ornstein yelling in frustration down the hall, most things along the lines of:

"Are you kidding me?!"

"Get back here right now!"

"Drop it... Drop it!"

"How did you manage to eat (insert this week's huge item) in the two minutes I was gone?!"

"No no! Don't- ugh..."

- Despite his frustration, when no one's looking (or when he doesn't think anyone's looking) he lets Midir lay across his lap or shoulders when he's at his desk, giving him a few pets. At night he sleeps with him beneath the covers or splayed out over his head on the pillow like a dark, bitchy rainbow with teeth.

- Artorias has seen all this and knows he's grown attached no matter the amount of denial that slips past his captain's lips.

- Midir will perch on Sifs back and ride around with his wings spread.

- He can't fly well, as time goes by its discovered that the joints in his wings never formed correctly. He's been able to fly short distances and vault himself considerably high up to perch and glide, but never long-term flight.

- When he was first learning to 'fly' it was from the top of Gough's head while Ornstein and Artorias were sparring in the courtyard. He managed to glide a small distance before crashing straight into the face of an unsuspecting Artorias and momentarily blinding him; causing him to lose balance, instinctively grab anything within arm's reach to try and catch himself and promptly fall into the fountain with Ornstein in tow. Ciaran was blessed to witness the incident and could never let them forget. Her and Gough laughed for what felt like ages, such a rare action for them both.

- Midir begins to settle and listen but is still a little shit, Ornstein is still a grump but seems more relaxed, Artorias loves that they actually bonded and that he had a hand in doing that, Gwyn is pleased all is seeming to work out.

There's still more I wanna add to this but yeah

Help me

Please

#dark souls #dragon slayer ornstein #artorias the abysswalker #darkeater midir #lord gwyn #great grey wolf sif #dark souls 3 #artorias #Ornstein #headcanon

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bound-by-golden-wings · 6 years

Text

Ornstein Thoughts + Headcanons

Warning, extremely long post ahead!

So, I’ve been having many people come to me asking me about why I view certain things the way I do. I’ve even had people multiple times point out to me that some of my headcanons aren’t canon... Even when practically none of the things the fandom has come up with is canon. Ornstein is a rather empty-husk of a character so to say and there really isn’t much to him. So in the end a lot of him will be left up to the viewers interpretation. Just keep in mind, that just like with a lot of characters, this is my own speculations and headcanons and it’s totally fine if you do not agree with me. Just don’t bash me about it. I know my headcanons are extremely different from what a lot of people feel to be canon, but this is just the way I view things. Know that before creating this blog and while writing Ornstein, I practically read everything that was available about him, read other people’s headcanons and lore videos and that way came up with what felt right for me, so let’s just get to it. For the sake of being better at reading through it, I’m going to put everything in different chapters, then it will all be easier to find because it’s sorted.

Surely there are other headcanons that I like and I might even erase some through times or just edit/change entirely.

With all of that being said! Enjoy! :)

Start Of Life:

Ornstein was born about 200-100 years before the events of Dark Souls 1 took place. Back then, most dragons were practically still alive, but some kind of war had already broken out between the Gods and Dragons itself. it wasn’t too apparent back then, except for the occasional news going around the land that several dragons had been killed by the Gods and Goddesses. His father was the fearsome dragon Kalameet. I believe that all Dragons, Wyverns and Drakes were pretty much just as smart as any human and could properly think for themselves, which would explain why Seath was capable of doing so much himself. Kalameet was no exception. Kalameet fell in love with a human and through magic the two were capable of producing an offspring of their own, this being Ornstein (first name being Glaurung, because back at this point, he didn’t go under the name Ornstein yet). It’s almost similar to how Gods in old mythologies would have hybrids/animals/crossbreeds/non-human/god beings for kids and dated similar creatures. Back then it wasn’t as much of a sin as it became in later life, which is why most of the Crossbreeds were banished or born in Painted Worlds, because it was practically the only place for them.

Ornstein was a Crossbreed but unlike Priscilla and Yorshka, he resembled a dragon far more, practically looking like the Drakes your character becomes after using all the Dragon Stones. Several reasons as to why I headcanon Ornstein like this, but a few of them are: I like the idea that Ornstein technically in a way betrayed his own kind just because he wanted to proof to people that he was capable of doing greater things, I just can’t imagine him to be human with an armour set like that.

Kalameet disappeared not long after Ornstein was born duo to the war between dragons and Devines becoming far worse than before. He did this to protect his family from possible harm and Ornstein was left alone with his mother.

Growing Up:

Ornstein grew up rather happily for most part except for the fact that he always felt a little bit disconnected because of his dragon-like appearance, this actually made him somewhat despise his own looks and wish to become a human. Of course this never happened. At first people still respected him because his mother was a doctor and thus deeply respected by the town itself. He had friends, but as the years began to pass and the war against the dragons became worse more people began to abandon Ornstein until only very few people still respected him the way he was. Duo to this he tried to chop his own tail off, but luckily his mother ran in just in time to stop him, stop the bleeding and stitch it all back together.

He usually helped his mother around the house with patients, cleaning up, getting supplies, baking and all those kinds of stuff. Until one day the rumor started to go around town that the some of Gwyn’s army was coming to take Ornstein away. Gwyn despised dragons and wanted to have nothing to do with them or any kind that even resembled them, there were only very few who he gave a chance like Seath and Midir for example. Thus eventually once the Knights reached their town Ornstein and his mother hid away in the basement but were sadly caught during the end of their search. Ornstein’s mother was killed during the process and he himself was taken away from the town, then kept prison inside the Painted World of Ariamis.

The Painted World of Ariamis & First Encounter with The Sun’s Firstborn:

Ornstein time growing up in the Painted World wasn’t too pleasant, he was only 12 years old at this point and had to do a lot to actually manage to survive on his own. He grew kind of feral and kept his distance with most of the other citizen of the Painted World as there really wasn’t a lot that he could do about it. He practically had to fight for his food and make sure that the plants that he did try to grow actually got a chance at life.

It was around the age of 20 that he first encountered the Nameless King, aka the Sun’s Firstborn. Back then the first reaction Ornstein had to him was to fight him, feeling like he was an intruder, ready to steal something from him or even finish him off, but after a long battle in which Ornstein lost, it became clear that the man had no meaning of killing him. He even offered him some kind of food. Apparently he was exploring the world for his own personal reasons and asked Ornstein if he could show him around to which he reluctantly agreed. He stayed in the world for at least one day and seeing Ornstein’s potential and being in the need of more Knights agreed to train him.

Ornstein who had lived for most of his life in the Painted World and felt like he deserved something better agreed on this and The Nameless King took him back to his own world where he at first hid him away until his armour was finished. It took about one week to make the armour, made by one of the best smiths in all of Anor Londo and even if he was confused at first as to why armour like this was needed he agreed on taking the job (this was Lord Gwyn’s son asking for help after all). The armour was made from pure gold, infused with materials that protected against all kinds of lightning. Big enough to fit in Ornstein’s tail and any kind of other body parts he needed to hide, like his spikes for example.

At first he didn’t get the spear, this was only later in life after Nameless King had trained him for a while. After about a year he was allowed to pick his very own weapon and he knew exactly what he was going for even going as far to draw something out (which had always been one of his hobbies). The weapon itself was made from a Dragon’s stone scales and infused with lightning gems to make it possible to cast lightning, magic on its opponents. This is when the real deal started.

First Knight of Gwyn & The Four Knights:

As time began to pass, Lord Gwyn began to see all that Ornstein was up to and after a while he eventually became his first and most trusted Knight. But before that happened Ornstein tried to proof himself to Gwyn by killing one of many Dragons to come. Not only because Gwyn wanted to be sure that he would be up to the task, but also to keep the land safe from harm and to stop the growing suspicion if him being an Outlander that would someday betray them.

Once he had killed this very first dragon, several more followed as time came, even when he didn’t always agree with the ones he had to kill. Not all Dragons were bad after all, but it was a task that had to be done even if some of it makes him feel extremely guilty to this day. But he was extremely proud of the actual evil dragons that he did kill, hanging them on a certain wall like trophies. Lord Gwyn suggested to hang all of them on there several times, but he declined the offer most of the time.

Duo to this Lord Gwyn began to slowly trust the Knight and made him Captain of several of his Knights together with his eldest son Nameless King. Ornstein was filled with pride at this point, happy with what he had accomplished and although as a Drake you already grow older than most people Lord Gwyn made him a Devine, so he practically became immortal (even if he would still be weak to things like illness, wounds, murder, stabbing, etc).

Ornstein became one of the most well known Knights across the land and was dubbed Dragonslayer duo to the amount of dragons he was able to kill so easily. Even when one was still flying around he knew how to take them down midair. As years passed by, eventually Knights like Artorias, Gough and Ciaran began to join the Knights, slowly climbing the ladders and gaining Lord Gwyn’s trust. Although they were trained by other people Ornstein became their leader and he usually was the person they’d come to for advice as well. And although he wasn’t as close to the Knights as he was to the Nameless King they all got a very special spot in his heart and wanted to make sure that they’d survive any battle to come.

Executioner Smough

Smough was relatively late with joining the army and only knew most of the other Knights for a relatively short time (compared to an immortal life that is). Ornstein met him on pure accident, one day when he was trying to fight a group of dragons attacking a nearby village of giants. Smough back then was a butcher and showed a lot of signs of being a good fighter, making Ornstein wonder if he had been trained or thought it himself. They fought side-by-side while protecting the town and actually made a very decent team together. Ornstein suggested training him afterwards and Smough’s reply came almost immediately, that day a team was born.

He began to train Smough as his pupil and although he was somewhat impatient at times showed great interests in becoming a Knight. And not long after finishing his training got his very own armour and weapon. Even if Ornstein was extremely skeptical about the size of his hammer at first. At first Lord Gwyn was even thinking about making Smough a fifth Knight, but Smough’s dream was soon crushed when he began to show signs of actually enjoying slaying his victims. Unlike Ornstein he was extremely merciless when it came to sparing someone and would most of the time not even give them a second glance, practically killing them on the spot. What only made things worse was the fact that he actually began to enjoy eating his victims, getting both the titles Executioner and Cannibal. At this point Ornstein was the only one who actually still enjoyed Smough’s presence because he knew Smough also had his good sides even when he didn’t fully agree with everything he did. He still felt like he made a great addition to their Knights to which Gwyn heavily disagreed.

Once this news came to Smough this put a huge strain on his and Ornstein’s friendship and for a while to two kind of had their backs turned towards one another. He had worked so hard to get to this point, just to be rejected and he despises it, growing rather jealous of the people around him. But duo to Ornstein’s support he still stayed, hoping that one day Lord Gwyn would change his mind and he could join his Knights.

The Fall of the Kingdom

War went on for years without an end in sight and eventually The Nameless King went away to ally with the Dragons, he had his very own reasons for this, ones which he never shared. Ornstein felt both deeply sad and betrayed for what happened and for a while felt pretty down for losing his first actual friend. And it didn’t take long before he began to make decisions that he deeply regretted, Artorias left for the Abyss and not long after Lord Gwyn left for the First Flame and never returned, leaving most of the Kingdom in the hands of his remaining Knights and younger child Gwyndolin. Gwyndolin began to rule behind scenes for most part, casting illusions around Anor Londo to keep the remaining people happy.

As time passed eventually Ciaran and Gough left as well, leaving Ornstein and Smough alone to guard Anor Londo with a few other Knights around. One the new came that Artorias had died and later Ciaran as well Ornstein became devastated once more, but forced himself to move on, guarding the city.

However as time passed he began to wander around the Kingdom more, making sure to protect whoever needed it as well with the whole Undead Curse becoming worse as the years passed. This left Smough to guard the cities alone for some time as well. This is when Dark Souls 1 starts to take place.

Boss Fight & Aftermath

Ornstein does come back around Anor Londo at times, to make sure that everything is still going alright. Even if he fully trusted Smough with the city, sometimes unexpected things could come their way and once the Legend of a certain Chosen Undead started to become true he went back to his usual position.

Ornstein and Smough in Anor Londo are not illusions. Especially a Dragonslayer like Ornstein wouldn’t run away from a fight like this, especially not to fight for the people he cares about. Besides, if you kill either of them, they still drop a soul. I can go on like this for a while and while them being illusions can make sense in a way, there are also plenty of reasons why it wouldn’t make sense. To me the intended way would be to ‘kill’ Ornstein first. Smough absorbs all of his powers, but doesn’t kill him in this process. And while Smough dies fighting during this fight, Ornstein barely makes it out alive.

And when I say barely, I mean barely. He would have died if it hadn’t been for Gwyndolin taking care of him afterwards. Smough’s death deeply affected him and the thought that he had lost all of his other Knights at this point finally drove him to the idea to search for the Nameless King. One of his last remaining friends, he needed him back for the Kingdom. And although he was extremely angry with the fact that he had ran off, he also deeply wanted to find and see him again, just to bring him back and possibly give the Kingdom some more hope.

Archdragon Peak & Dragonslayer Armour

For this last chapter there are two ways I go. One is more of a headcanon while the other is probably more related to canon guidelines.

After traveling for possibly years and searching every corner, his powers becoming weaker and his armour starting to become dull and old he eventually reached Archdragon Peak. He didn’t get a lot of information during his journey but the ones he did hear told a legend about Archdragon Peak and ringing a bell. Once he finally arrived this was exactly what he did... And he waited and waited, possibly even for years.

No one ever came and he fully lost all of his hope at this point, leaving behind his own lion armour and taking on another one that he found across Archdragon Peak, along with two new weapons. This was duo to the fact that that the armour and his spear only reminded him of all the people who he had failed, of the ones who had died and the Master that had left him without saying a word.

At this point he had practically lost his identity and he had no longer an actual purpose in life. He eventually ended up at Lothric Castle where it became extremely easy for the Pilgrim Butterflies to possess him. And as time passed, less of Ornstein was left, slowly his body began to rot away, until the only thing that was left of him was a Lingering Spirit.

The other version which is more canon to the storyline is that Ornstein eventually manages to find the Nameless King, duo to this he can finally make peace with his life and the things he went through. They spend a good couple of months together before Ornstein peacefully passed away one day, possibly duo to what all the stress had done to his body. Why is there no body where his armour is at? Either because Ornstein fully rotted away when he died, because the game shows no corpse or because someone tried running off with Ornstein’s armour but never got away with it.

#ooc #headcanons #((PFFFFFFT THIS TOOK WAY TOO LONG TO WRITE))#Ornstein #Dragonslayer Ornstein #long post

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lyxine · 7 years

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Snowballs (or one of Ledo’s crazy ideas)

So... @nightmaredaisy and I were discussing about lore and we ended up talking about Ledo and Havel, the buff dads. That’s how this one-shot was born, and thus, why I’m publishing it. There are several little OCs just to add a name to the Silver Knights, since they’re all faceless.

Snow wasn’t a rare thing in winter, but most of the time, it melted once it touched the floor, usually soaking the patrolling knights under their armor. Most of them found the sensation annoying, and hoped that they wouldn’t have to clean the barracks once they got there, but could brush it off. After all, the Winter Solstice was approaching, and they would be feasting… Except for the ones who would be on guard duty, mostly because of their behavior or their poor results.

However, this winter was colder than the others, and allowed the snow to fall and actually stay, covering the floor under a thick white coat. The archers on the roofs were annoyed, and had to brush the snow from their armor every five minutes, while the patrols tried their best to not slip on something. They had an image to maintain after all, and the snow was nothing compared to dragons. They would carry on their duty and-

*SPLAT*

A snowball crashed on the captain’s helmet, the snow hitting the back of his head. The whole patrol froze, most of the knights trying to keep a serious face.

“Who did that?!”

All of the heads turned to Ledo, whose gloves were covered by snow.

“Ledo. Of course.”

“I’m sorry I aimed for your shoulders.”

“By the Gods…”

“He’s so dead…��

“Come on, there are no dragons here! We can… Chill a bit no?”

Some knights failed to hide their laughs. Ledo was an eccentric among them, but his actions always had a nice goal, and when they weren’t on duty, it was a great source of fun amongst the Silver Knights.

“If your acts distract the patrol once more, I’ll have to report your behaviour to Sir Ornstein…”

*SPLAT*

The two knights turned around, searching for the source of the noise. One of them, Lauriam, groaned and looked around, brushing off the snow that landed on his chest and then looked up. An archer threw an another snowball at the face of the knight, making him fall backwards.

“EILIANNN!”

“Whoah, calm down Lauriam! I’m sure it was friend-”

*SPLAT*

Sant was interrupted by two snowballs, thrown by other laughing archers on the roofs. Ledo shrugged and turned towards his captain.

“I swear, that’s not my fault here.”

The patrolling knights had already sheathed or strapped their weapons to their back, and had taken cover behind pillars. More snowballs flew, and before long, a fight opposing the archers and the patrol was raging. The captain had joined the fray and was leading his squad, while the archers were led by Eilian. Ledo smiled during the whole fight, happy to contribute to the amusement of his fellow knights.

Meanwhile, at the doors of the Chapel…

“So, we still need to pick the knights that are going to guard the city during the Feast… Any ideas, Artorias, my Lord?”

“I just hope that you won’t be a part of these guards.” said the Firstborn “After all, there will be the Lady of Izalith, and it would be a bit disappointing if you weren’t there.”

“After all, you’re the Captain of the Four Knights Ornstein. A captain must be here to speak in our name, right?”

“Right… But still, better be safe than sorry. So any id-”

*SPLAT*

Snow crashed on the Lion’s helmet. Everything froze. The silver knights engaged in the snowball fight dropped their half formed snowballs on the floor and looked at each other, their eyes filled with fear. Ornstein turned his head around and looked at the snowy mess that was the guards. The wind howled, and for a moment, every armor seemed petrified.

“We’re so dead…” muttered Eilian

The Lion knight stared at the knights, then the streets. He gripped his spear, ready to strike the paralyzed knights. How could they mess up something as simple as a patrol?! Who was the instigator of this mess?! And why-

*SPLAT*

A snowball hit him from behind, and he turned around once more, ignoring the knights staring at him. Lightning bolts began to crack around his spear when he saw the culprit of this dishonorable attack smile a bit.

“ARTORIAAAASSS!!”

“EVERYONE SCATTER!!!” yelled a knight, running away as fast as possible to hide in the nearby streets.

Panic seized the silver knights and every single one of them tried to run away, trying to get as far as possible from their furious Captain. A lightning spear flew above their heads. Ledo sprinted away, chased by Lauriam, who was being chased by his comrades. After all, he was the one who missed his shot and hit Sir Ornstein in the first place.

*SPLAT*

Ornstein turned around, once again, hit by behind. Artorias was already following the other knights in their attempt to run, so who-

“My… My Lord. I’m sorry for the knights’ behaviour and I promise that I’m going to find the one who started it all in the first-”

The redhead saw his lord’s hands covered in snow. No, he couldn’t…

“My… My Lord?”

He was trying to stay calm, even if a storm was raging inside of him. His eyebrow twitched behind his helmet when he saw Gwynnant smile and shrug, denying the proof of his guilt in this action. Breathing deeply, he tried to calm himself and not thinking about setting the barracks ablaze.

At least, he found the ones who would be on duty the day of the Feast.

Winter Solstice, Night of the Feast

“Hey Lauri’! I just had a cool idea to distinguish ourselves from the others!”

Lauriam sighed loudly and tightened his hold on his sword. Ledo and he were on duty during the best night of the year, and he blamed the eccentric knight for making him miss the Feast. He had his looks on a pretty maid, and wished to dance with her, even if it would be hidden from all sights, and probably without music.

“You know what Ledo, fuck you. I’m missing the best night of the year because of your stupid idea.”

“Well, if you aimed a bit better, you could’ve hit Henog easily.”

“I hate you…”

Lauriam leaned against the wall, trying to hear the noises of the Feast inside the castle, but for nothing. Ledo removed his helmet, without minding Lauriam’s wrathful gaze.

“Lauriaaaam… Look at meeee…”

“What kind of thing are you doing agai-”

Ledo stood proudly, reindeer antlers stuck to the wings of his helmet. The Silver Knight was smiling under his helmet, proud of his makeshift ornaments. Lauriam just stared for a minute, then rolled his eyes.

“Really?! This is stupid.”

“Come on! You never heard about that human tradition? The one with the Slave Knight and his gifts for his lords riding a reindeer?”

“Yes. I heard about that stupid children’s tale… But really, you're just a kid in an adult’s body. First the snowball battle, then this?”

“Admit that you enjoyed it too. I never saw you happier on patrol duty than there!”

“If you didn't threw that snowball in the first place, Eilian would've never-"

Lauriam was interrupted by the familiar creaking of a door. Quitting the wall he leaned on, he silently rushed to see who used the backdoor, and why. Ledo held his position at his post, looking for anyone who would come out by the main door.

“By the Gods… Hey, Ledo!” whispered a surprised Lauriam “That's pure gold, come and see!”

“Aren't you supposed to be guarding the place?”

“... You got me. But please it won't last and it's gold! And besides you owe me that!”

“Alright, alright. There, let me see… Oh. Ohhh… Damn.”

The two knights witnessed a drunk Flann dancing alone, enumerating the various qualities of Gwynevere… Before getting more and more into details concerning her physical performances. A slightly pervert smile creeped up on Lauriam’s face.

“Yes… More… Hmmm… She really has a great… Chest… Hmmmhmmm…”

“Whatever. Don't forget that you're supposed to be on guard duty, not eavesdropping a drunk god’s antics and remember that Ornstein said that he would check if we worked.”

“What do I have to fear?”

“The task of cleaning the toilets and the rooms after the Feast. I did it once. Once. I won't do it again.”

“The Lords are drunkards?”

“No, but when they drink… Their consumption has to be counted in barrels and not in bottles!”

Lauriam had completely forgotten about Flann and had regained his place, looking at Ledo with curiosity.

“Whoa…”

“And it's far from what we drink, even for the Feast! Fine wines, refined alcohols… Then there are the dishes!”

“You could assist to the Lords’ Feast?”

“Well… Yes and no. I had to guard the door five years ago, but I wasn't allowed in… Like any Silver Knight. But I could sneak near the kitchens and have a glimpse of what they ate…”

“If only we could be inside… It's cold here. And we can't even move…”

“Don't worry. Sir Artorias and Gough are nice guys. There's a kind of… Reward for the ones guarding on this night. Although, it's a secret.”

“Wait a minute… The others…”

“They know about that. We're kind of unlucky to be picked each year.”

“You all asked for it.”

“Anyway. Once everything is over and the others come to guard the place… Sir Artorias let us in the room if he's not too drunk. Otherwise it's Gough or even Lady Ciaran who let us in… Although she does it only because Sir Artorias asked her.”

“Wait. That means that you can… Eat what's left and not have to drive one hell of a bargain in the kitchens?”

Ledo nodded and stood still when he heard the main door creaking open, and when Ornstein checked on both of them, before disappearing into the castle, looking tired. Even the captain of the Four Knights found the night exhausting, but not for the same reasons…

Havel’s private quarters, after the Feast night

Ledo stumbled into the room and crashed on his lover’s bed, leaving armor pieces on the floor. The cleric groaned at the loud entrance, and quickly shut the door behind him.

“I assume that you spent a long night? And you still have enough strength to get here?”

“I’m cold… I need some warmth…”

“No you're not sleeping here. Get back to the barracks and come back when you'll be able to get up after a session.”

“Now that's cold…”

“Ledo no.”

“Hrrrrmmm… Not listening.”

“There won't be enough time.”

“Each year you're saying that and each year nobody’s up to check on either you or me.”

“As long as we don't break the bed…”

#dark souls #dark souls 3 #silver knights #silver knight ledo #ocs #dragonslayer ornstein #artorias the abysswalker #the nameless king #my writing #fanfiction

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crimsonlocks · 4 years

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Even more;

— BASICS.

▸ IS YOUR MUSE TALL / SHORT / AVERAGE ?

Ornstein is around 2,60 m or 8′8′‘, so he is a giant. It comes from him gaining soul power and having grown to a much larger size that should humanly be possible. Also, he is kind of a demigod under the protection of the light soul, so him growing big even without soul power was a given.

Laurence is around 1,70 m or 5′57′‘, so he is on the rather short side.

▸ ARE THEY OKAY WITH THEIR HEIGHT ?

Ornstein is. He learned to control his soul power enough to not grow expentionally GIANT, which can happen when someone absorbs a powerful soul (it happens to him in Ornstein & Smough fight when Smough falls first). He is, funnily, one of the more shorter of the knights of Gwyn, but he never had trouble with it. He finds his height just right. Laurence HATES how small he is. He grew up around Gehrman and always wanted to be as big as him. But no, both of his parents are small, their boy is small too. He measured himself until he was around twenty years old until Micolash said “Laurence, you won’t grow anymore.”

▸ WHAT’S THEIR HAIR LIKE ?

Ornstein’s hair is from a crimson red, curly as hell and very long, it goes down his waist and only stops at his knees, so he usually pulls it up in a ponytail and that still goes down to his butt. Laurence hair is auburn and falls in soft waves down to his shoulders. It is as soft as it looks like. He usually just lets his hair fall loose and never ties it up.

▸ DO THEY SPEND A LOT OF TIME ON THEIR HAIR / GROOMING ?

Ornstein’s hair is untameable and he HATES brushing it, so no. He washes it regularly, but brushing is a thing he doesn’t do. He just accepted that his hair won’t let itself tame, though others don’t think like this and so they go and brush his hair for him. When they can catch him. He only gets a cut when he starts to fall over it. Laurence wants his hair to look good, so he washes it regularly and brushes it so that it falls in just the right soft waves over his shoulders. He also makes sure that it isn’t too long and lets it cut down the moment it grew too long. In Byrgenwerth Micolash usually cut his hair for him.

▸ DOES YOUR MUSE CARE ABOUT THEIR APPEARANCE / WHAT OTHERS THINK ?

Ornstein usually is in full body armour, so not really. Most people don’t even recognize him when he is out of his armour. He likes it like this and won’t present himself as very desireable, just running around in loose clothes and with unbrushed hair, liking that for once he doesn’t have to be the dragon slayer.

Laurence needs to look presentable. He is the Vicar and people can’t see him at his worst. He has to wear clean clothes, his hair has to look good, his face has to be clean. He has to look perfect. He is the face of the Healing Church and as this, the face of Yharnam (unofficial, but everybody knows it). Laurence is at his most dangerous the better he looks actually.

— PREFERENCES.

Ornstein

INDOORS OR OUTDOORS ? RAIN OR SUNSHINE ? FOREST OR BEACH ? PRECIOUS METALS OR GEMS ? FLOWERS OR PERFUMES ? PERSONALITY OR APPEARANCE ? BEING ALONE OR BEING IN A CROWD ? ORDER OR ANARCHY ? PAINFUL TRUTHS OR WHITE LIES ? SCIENCE OR MAGIC ? PEACE OR CONFLICT ? NIGHT OR DAY ? DUSK OR DAWN ? WARMTH OR COLD ? MANY ACQUAINTANCES OR A FEW CLOSE FRIENDS ? READING OR PLAYING A GAME ? Laurence

INDOORS OR OUTDOORS ? RAIN OR SUNSHINE ? FOREST OR BEACH ? PRECIOUS METALS OR GEMS ? FLOWERS OR PERFUMES ? PERSONALITY OR APPEARANCE ?BEING ALONE OR BEING IN A CROWD ? ORDER OR ANARCHY ? PAINFUL TRUTHS OR WHITE LIES ? SCIENCE OR MAGIC ? PEACE OR CONFLICT ? NIGHT OR DAY ? DUSK OR DAWN ? WARMTH OR COLD ? MANY ACQUAINTANCES OR A FEW CLOSE FRIENDS ? READING OR PLAYING A GAME ?

— QUESTIONNAIRE.

▸ WHAT ARE SOME OF YOUR MUSE’S BAD HABITS ?

Ornstein’s most bad habit is how jealous he gets when in a romantic relationship. It is very intrusive in his brain and has to do a lot with his anxiety and abandonment issues, but it still makes him very clingy and very upset whenever he sees someone who may be interested in his SO even talk to them. One of Laurence bad habits is that he jumps to conclusion to easily. He doesn’t let the people explain themselves before he is “Oh, you are one of those people.” and narrows his eyes. That with his general disliking of “outsiders” is one of his worst habits.

▸ HAS YOUR MUSE LOST ANYONE CLOSE TO THEM ? HOW HAS IT AFFECTED THEM ?

How shall I even being with Ornstein? It started with him practically abandoned as a newborn, often asking himself why his parents didn’t want him. It went farther when his master went traitor and Ornstein had to choose between his love and his loyalty. Ornstein chose his loyalty and had his heart broken, why did his master turn traitor? On him? Then, Gwyn left, then Gwynevere, then Artorias died and the other knights of Gwyn would never come back to the cathedral. And then Smough died. It affected Ornstein in a way that he fell into depression. He looked forward to die in the battle against the Chosen Undead, but it shouldn’t be. Ornstein had suicidial thoughts after this, but managed to channel it into going in a journey to find himself and reconcile with his master. Laurence first great loss were his parents, who both got infected by a deadly disease when they helped a patient and didn’t survive it. He was 12 years old and naturally, in that part of his life it fucked him up. He found a second family over at Byrgenwerth, with Gerhman and Micolash as his closest friends, especially Gehrman was like an older brother for him. So it fucked Laurence over a second time when Gehrman blamed him for Maria’s death and then vanished alltogether. Later in his life Laurence is extremely lonely and lowkey depressive, but he doesn’t admit it to anyone, not even to himself. Instead he uses terrible coping mechanisms like drinking too much, staying up the whole night and sometimes even degrading himself in front of his boyfriend.

▸ WHAT ARE SOME FOND MEMORIES YOUR MUSE HAS ?

Ornstein has a lot of fond memories of his friends, his master, Smough, the other knights of Gwyn. He once had a life that he loved and that was being the dragon slayer alongside the other knights and all the fun times they had. And then when they had peace, it was all he wished for. He has many fond memories of Smough because he kept him grounded whenever Ornstein broke down. Laurence has many good memories of his parents, they were good parents, as well as many fond memories of Byrgenwerth, even though nowadays he denies that it ever has been good for him there. But secretly, he wishes to go back, he was happy there. When everything was still easy and people weren’t turning into beasts and before he saw that he gained claws. Wow, that turned depressing, I am sorry.

▸ IS IT EASY FOR YOUR MUSE TO KILL ?

Yes, because Ornstein is a knight. He doesn’t have a great morally about it, his lord says “kill”, then he kills.

That changed when he was on his own. When he had to think on his own if he should kill somebody. He had a lot of time musing about what killing actually meant and decided to be as respectful as possible whenever he would kill someone or something just so that he could stay alive.

Laurence never has killed someone directly, but he is responsible for the death of thousands. So while he wouldn’t be able to kill someone just because, he doesn’t have problems saying to somebody else “Kill them.” Hes is kind of a hypocrite in this regard.

▸ WHAT’S IT LIKE WHEN YOUR MUSE BREAKS DOWN ?

It’s bad for Ornstein. He always tries to hide his feelings until they bubble over. Then he breaks down, shivers, cries and murmurs the phrase “keep it together” over and over again until he calmed down. He doesn’t want to see like this by anyone and usually only breaks down when he is alone. Smough and Gwyndolin are the only ones who have seen him break down as well as Artorias and Ciaran, ONCE and never again. Laurence doesn’t admit to himself that he is breaking down, so when he does, it is usually because someone tells him. He is sarcastic and ironic at first until he breaks down and cries about it and usually degrades himself HEAVILY, because he is a horrible person. It is usually Ludwig who has to get him out of it.

▸ IS YOUR MUSE CAPABLE OF TRUSTING SOMEONE WITH THEIR LIFE ?

Ornstein had to. He fought dragons. He needed to trust his knights. He was the one who chose the other knights of Gwyn. He trusts each and everyone of them with his own life and he does the same for them. Once the Healing Church reputation suffered and Laurence felt the need to find a body guard, he settled on Ludwig to be it. So yes, Laurence completely trust Ludwig with his life.

▸ WHAT’S YOUR MUSE LIKE WHEN THEY’RE IN LOVE ?

Ornstein is very cuddly and wants to spend time with the person but also gets insecure when he hasn’t confessed yet and prefers for the other to confess first. He gets dreamy and distracted and people know that something is up. The silver knights actually tried to find out who his crush is and settled on Artorias, even though it was his Master. Laurence, like usual, just denies it. Romantic feelings? I don’t have time for them. He can sleep around when he has sexual desires, no problem, there are more than enough women and a few men who share their bed with him. Hm, but why are they cute? Why do they make him feel warm? Why is he thinking about them when having sex? Oh! Oh no! He’s in love.

Tagged by: I stole it from @derjaegermond Tagging: Steal it and tag me.

#cathedral & church: headcanon #clad in golden armour: about ornstein #engulfed by flames: about laurence #long post

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crimsonlocks · 4 years

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🍺 For Ornstein please! Your writing’s great, btw, keep it up!

(Normally this meme is meant for people who have a muse but you have been nothing but supportive to me, anon, so you get a quick fanfiction with this scenario ^^)

Ornstein woke up as he heard the pounding on the door. And winced as he felt the pounding in his head. What had he... oh yeah, he remembered... remembered far too well. All came crushing back down on him. “Ornstein, are you awake?”, that was Artorias’ voice. “You haven’t been at silver knight roll call and we were waiting for thirty minutes already.” “...I am awake...”, Ornstein mumbled, still lying in bed, realizing that all he had done was undoing his ponytail and shedding his armour which still laid scattered in the room. Artorias didn’t knock another time but yanked the door open and came into the room. “Ornstein, are you feeling alright?”At the sight of his friend, skin pale, dark shadows under the eyes, crumbled clothes and the worst bed hair ever, he said: “Apparently not.” He came closer and intended to feel Ornstein’s forehead for a fever when he caught the scent.“You were drunk.”, he stated. “That is rare for you.” “I spent my free day at the statue yesterday.”, Ornstein said, swallowing down some bile that threatened to rise. He was terribly hungover. “I drank a whole bottle of wine while there...”“You are already getting drunk from a glass or two, that must have smashed you really good.”, Artorias said, sympathy in his eyes. Then, his voice grew quieter as he said: “It’s hard... for all of us. But it must be especially hard for you.” That was enough for Ornstein to tear up and he sobbed: “I just... I don’t know why he did this. Why would he leave us... me behind like this? Why would he shit on everything we have fought for?!” Artorias gently took Ornstein into his arm, whispering. “It’s fine... just let it all out...” They spent several minutes in this position until Ornstein pulled back from Artorias hug, saying: “I am sorry for this.” “You don’t have to.”, Artorias smiled. “Don’t worry about the silver knights for today. I take them. And I make sure to send Ciaran over with a remedy for your hangover.”“Artorias, thank you...”, Ornstein said, sinking back into the pillows, “You are truly a good friend.”

#gold & blood: in character #muse: ornstein #asks & answers #thx for the ask #Anonymous

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mrslittletall · 5 years

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Title: Keeping it together (Chapter 23) Fandom: Dark Souls Characters: Dragon Slayer Ornstein, Silver Knights, Lord's Blade Ciaran, Hawkeye Gough, Great Grey Wolf Sif Word Count: 6.718 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16328084/chapters/43960237 Previous chapter: https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/184296200789/title-keeping-it-together-chapter-22

Summary: Ornstein is working on feeling better.

(Author's note: Last chapter ahead and it is a pretty long one. Please enjoy and thanks for staying with me during this ride.)

After around a week had passed, Gwyndolin finally allowed Ornstein to leave the Dark Moon Tomb. Ornstein had needed that break as much as he hated to admit it. His nausea had subdued and the constant ache in his stomach had greatly tuned down. It now was apparent to him that his sickness had stemmed from him trying to keep it together.

For his injuries, he couldn't do anything about the broken fingers, but that shouldn't hinder him much, at least it was only on the left hand. His bruised leg still hurt a bit, but was on a good way to heal completely, with him able to walk on it quite normally.

Now that Gwyndolin had allowed Ornstein to leave, he was very eager to get back into his armour. In fact, he felt a bit uncomfortable having to walk the distance to the cathedral without it. It was a good thing that the streets were pretty unoccupied. Granted, that might have also been because Ornstein had decided to walk back once the night had fallen. His gaze was on the bright full moon as he walked. Ever since Gwyndolin had taken up the mantle to rule over Anor Londo the moon had been full every single night. Ornstein had never questioned it, they were a god under the protection of the moon overall. It didn't occur to Ornstein how cold the nights in Anor Londo had become.

As Ornstein approached the cathedral, the silver knights standing guard there greeted him.

“Captain, it is good to see that you feel better.”

“Don't worry about the cathedral, we took good care of it in your absence.”

Ornstein thanked them with a smile and made his way to his room, hoping that his armour had been brought there. To his relief, it was there along with his spear. After not being able to wearing it for so long and because Ornstein wasn't tired at all yet, he put it on, only with a little trouble because of the restricted movement of his left hand. After he was done, he picked up his spear and looked at himself in the mirror.

Seeing the fierce expression of the lion helmet instead of his face brimming with his insecurities and anxiety, made him feel a lot better about himself. Gwyndolin was saying that he should be more true to himself, but Ornstein didn't felt anything wrong about using his armour to keep up his composure. He still was the captain of the knights and while he had allowed himself a moment of weakness, it had to be over now.

He adjusted his armour until it fit perfectly and left his room, wandering through the cathedral, greeting any silver knight or servant he saw and eventually stopped in front of the so called silver knight ask box. It looked like there actually were some messages in it. Well, he hadn't checked it for a while now. Ornstein gathered the box and headed for the conference room with it.

When he opened the door to the conference room he first deeply sighed at the sight of the paperwork and then froze because he saw Sira sitting there. Without her helmet for once, working on the paperwork.

“Sira, what...?”, he started and she jerked up, frantically fishing for her helmet and got it on before answering him.

“Oh, Captain Ornstein, are you feeling better?”, she asked. “I was handling the paperwork. I have made stacks for stuff that you still need to sign and stuff that I can't do on my own, but everything else is pretty much done, I wanted to turn it in once I finished the last few bits.”

“Have you done this the whole week?”, Ornstein was astounded as he gazed along the paperwork, messy lumps now neatly organized. It even intimidated him how big the stacks had become. He thoroughly hoped the biggest one wasn't the “to sign” stack.

“Yes, but I liked doing it. To be honest, I only joined the silver knight because my parents wanted me to. I never felt much for fighting, organizing stuff is a lot easier for me.”

“I am impressed. This helps so much. That you managed to do all this work in such a short time. I should assign you to do the paperwork exclusively.”

“Actually, I would rather cherish that.”

Ornstein stared at Sira, then at the paperwork, then at Sira again. He was half during the process to formulate a sentence in his head that she didn't need to and that it was his duty to do the paperwork and he just needed to stop procrastinating it, but then he asked himself. Why shouldn't he lot Sira do the paperwork? She had told him that she liked it more than doing the usual duties of a silver knight.

“Well then, Sira, I assign you to be in charge of the paperwork.”, Ornstein said.

“I will fulfill this task to the best of my belief.”, Sira answered and bowed to him. She took a bunch of papers with her, to Ornstein's relief from the biggest stack, pointed the one out he still needed to sign and left the room. Only when she had left Ornstein noticed that she hadn't stuttered once talking to him this time.

With Sira gone, Ornstein put the ask box down on the table and his gaze laid on the stack to sign for a moment. He should probably sign it, better sooner as later, but for now, he wanted to open the ask box first. He removed the lid and fished the first message out.

The silver knight ask box had been established a long time ago, back when all four knights of Gwyn still had been around, when the dragon war still had been raging on, when Lord Gwyn and even the Firstborn had still been around. Ornstein had bought the little box because he had become sick and tired of having to answer the same question to every silver knight individually, so he put the box down, instructed the silver knights to put any questions in it and at the end of the day he and the other knights of Gwyn would go through them and tell the silver knights their answers at the next roll call.

Ornstein was expecting to see a few requests in the box, so when he unfolded the message and looked at it, he got surprised to see the words: “Captain, are you feeling alright lately? It doesn't seem like it. May I suggest you get some rest?”

He unfolded the next message only to be greeted with a similar sounding message: “Captain, don't worry too much about taking a break, we can handle it until you feel better.”

Ornstein fished a third message out of the box, which read: “Captain, if I don't see you take a break soon, then me and Terrick will drag you to the infirmary.” It was signed by Amira, of course.

The rest of the messages were all like this. Concerns, the knights telling Ornstein not to worry about it, them begging him to take a break and even a few that must have been tossed in only recently, because they asked him if he felt better.

“You guys.”, Ornstein murmured to himself. “Why did I think I had to shoulder it all alone? I should have trusted my knights a little bit more...” He laid his head down on the table, overwhelmed by the kindness of his silver knights and his gaze fell onto the papers that still needed to be signed.

Ah well, he could get to them now. He felt that he at least owed Sira this. And if he only had to sign the papers it wouldn't take long. He fetched a quill and an ink pot and got started. ___

Later that day Ornstein was going through the stuff he had brought back from Oolacile. It wasn't much of course, he hadn't been there for sightseeing and he already had unpacked all the clothes he had brought with him and gave them to the laundry team.

What he hadn't unpacked yet, where the sketches he had made back then. Gough, Ciaran, the Sanctuary Guardian and some flowers from Dusk's garden. He remembered that he once had also drawn Dusk's maiden, but he had given the picture to them. Ornstein stared at the sketches. Didn't he thought about giving them some colour once he returned? He wasn't too sure though when he had used the easel the last time. He should check if the colours there were still moist and hadn't dried up yet.

However, before Ornstein wanted to visit the painting room, he picked up the sketch of Ciaran in front of the makeshift grave. Back then, Ciaran had shooed him away and he didn't had a chance to finish it yet. He let his gaze wander over the sketch. Ciaran's general posture had already been sketched out, how she had kneeled in front of the grave, hands folded into a prayer stance. Ornstein grabbed for a pencil, an item he usually would carry around with him and set the tip on the paper, it made a scratching sound once he drew the lines of Ciaran's helmet, the distinct shape, resembling a hornet.

He couldn't look at her for reference right now, but he didn't need to. He had seen her almost every single day for a few centuries, she was vividly in front of his inner eye. He continued the sketch with adding her distinct ponytail, unlike his, it had been added to her helmet, but Ornstein knew it had once been her actual hair, hair that she had cut short when she became an assassin. Ornstein drew the last few lines of the braid before adding her armour, the light leather set, which was worn by all of the lord's blades, but Ciaran still managed to distinct herself from them. Her mask looked different and she herself had chosen it. Ornstein drew the narrow eyes and the thin mouth on it, the only facial feature on the mask. Once he was done, he laid his pencil down and looked at his work.

A perfect sketch of Ciaran in her grieving, which she had done right away, instead like him, who had hid his feelings for far too long. Ciaran had decided back there and then, that her feelings were more important than her duties and stayed at Artorias grave. It hadn't even occurred to Ornstein to visit her. It must have been awful for her, maybe even more than for himself. He had a churning feeling in his chest, thinking about it. His gaze fell onto the drawing of Gough, the gentle giant, who would always carve and whittle away on some wood on this tower. They both had been worried about him, had told him several times to take care and what had he done?

Ornstein determined that he would visit both of them as soon as he had a free day. And his leg wouldn't hurt anymore.

Now that Ornstein had finished the sketch of Ciaran, technically he felt he could venture to the painting room and look for colours, but he wasn't in the mood for it. Instead, he picked up a fresh piece of paper and his pencil.

The first thing he roughly sketched out were a few trees. They didn't need to be very detailed, he just needed the general idea of a forest clearing on this piece. He adumbrated some grass and then the scratching of his pencil worked on the main part of this sketch, a figure leaning against a tree, legs spread out, relaxed posture. Nobody viewed Ornstein draw, but when he would have a spectator, they would have realized that he was working on Artorias the moment the lines formed his cape and hood. Ornstein added the details of Artorias armour on the drawing, the leggings that mostly resembled those of a silver knight as well as the chest piece, which was party covered by the cape though. Then the next line formed the tassel on Artorias hood, going straight down, resting on his chest. And even though most of the time, Artorias face was darkened inside that hood, Ornstein decided to add it. The gentle gaze, the charming smile, the vertical scar just above his nose, the beard shadow that grew back even after Artorias had fully shaved that morning.

Yes, this was Artorias like he remembered him. An Artorias who was at ease with himself and the world. Ornstein hoped, that wherever Artorias mind was now, that he could find this peace, that he didn't had to wander in endless nightmares.

Ornstein gazed at the sketch again. Actually, this wasn't complete yet. What truly made Artorias, was still missing. He added the figure of a wolf pup next to Artorias with a few strokes, curled in on itself.

Another glance, still didn't felt finished. Ornstein didn't need to think twice about what to add. A few lines later, Artorias had his sword laid lazily over his legs, the massive size of it still making the tip bury slightly into the ground and his shield was laid protectively over Sif, as if he wanted to shield her from any harm. Ornstein laid down the drawing and felt satisfied. That was how he wanted to remember Artorias. Not like the one he had seen in his dreams... he wanted to try and remember his friend as the relaxed man chilling in the woods.

It had gotten quite late while he had worked on the drawings. Now he had Gough, Ciaran and Artorias. Three of the four knights of Gwyn. Only one missing.

Ornstein stared at his armour that he had stacked into a corner of the room. He stood up and walked over to it in slow, but steady steps. He studied the armour thoroughly, tried to etch every single detail into his mind. He had been wearing it pretty much every day now since he had become the first knight of Gwyn. It felt like it had become a part of his personality.

“I wonder if this is a good thing?”, Ornstein asked himself, when he picked up the helmet and took it back with him to the table, placing it in plain sight, turned around, so that he would look at the backside. Then he straightened a new piece of paper.

Ciaran he had drawn praying in front of the makeshift grave, Gough he had drawn carving, Artorias he had drawn relaxing in the woods. And the last knight of Gwyn?

Ornstein sketched out the cathedral, the part that was most visible for anyone who would come from Sen's fortress, the big gates, the stairs, the windows, the spires, before he sketched the figure of the dragon slayer in front of it.

Spear firmly gripped in his right hand, his back turned to the watcher, the gaze of his lion helmet on the cathedral, his ponytail falling down his back, posture strong and assertive, showing that this place was under his protection. He truly felt like the last protector of Anor Londo.

Ornstein dropped his pencil, after drawing that much his fingers had cramped and the broken fingers in his left hand throbbed too, although he mostly had used this hand to hold the paper down.

Ornstein looked out of the window. He hadn't even noticed that the sun had already set. That explained why his room suddenly felt so dark. He lighted a candle and put it on his night stand. Ornstein wondered if he should go to bed straight away, but he wasn't feeling tired yet. It wouldn't hurt walking the short distance to the painting room and check for colours. He could buy any missing ones the next day on his patrol, so he grabbed the candle and left his room.

As Ornstein was wandering through the hallways, he could hear a voice casually speaking: “...and then we all wanted to know who the mysterious piano player was and were eavesdropping at the door, but we were too greedy and then the door busted and it turned out to be... Oh, Captain Ornstein!”, Herman greeted Ornstein as he crossed the path of him and Jervis. “Is anything the matter? Do you want to check if we do our job right?”, he chuckled.

“No, I am not here for that.”, Ornstein replied, he couldn't help but feel amused. “I just wanted to check something in the painting room.”

“Alright, captain, call us if anything happens.”, Herman said and both knights passed Ornstein. After a few more steps, Ornstein could hear how they continued their conversation.

“So who has been the mysterious piano player?”, Jervis asked.

“That's it, it was indeed Captain Ornstein. He was furious about us eavesdropping, especially at Artorias, but he still agreed to play for us.”, Herman answered.

That brought Ornstein back. One day he had discovered a piano in one of the guest rooms and he used to learn it as a kid. He hadn't played for a good while this particular day, so his playing was far off and sounded awful, so he came to practice every single day and got the interest of the silver knights. Playing the piano... he hadn't done it in a while yet. Ornstein thought it could be fun to do it once again, but then he remembered the broken fingers on his left hand and looked at them.

“Won't be able to hit all keys with two of them restrained liked this.”, he murmured to himself and entered the painting room he had arrived at in the meantime.

He closed the door behind him, put the candle into his left hand (carefully to not drop it, being able to only hold it with three fingers) and headed straight for the cupboard where they kept their colours. He opened it, carefully placed the candle on the floor and checked if he had everything he would need.

Let's see, he needed gold, red, blue, silver, white, brown, black and green mostly. Most colours were still there, but he noticed a shortage of blue and gold. Ornstein closed the cupboard, picked up the candle and went back to his room.

The next day on his patrol Ornstein strolled over the market place and got the missing colours, a new brush when he was already on it and some treats that he intended to give to the group of cats.

It felt a bit like Artorias ghost had possessed him when he bought the treats. Ornstein had never cared much about cats, they were far too hostile against him, but for some reason, this group had started to grow on him. While Ornstein was tossing the treats to them, he thought about that Artorias often had brought dogs or cats with him into the cathedral before he had gotten Sif, hastily hiding them in cupboard drawers until Ornstein had forced him to get them out of the cathedral.

An uneasy thought crossed Ornstein's mind. What if he still had cats and dogs hidden in his room? And nobody had entered this place for a good while now...

Orstein shook off the thought as quickly as possible, there was no way Artorias would have left some animals to starve while he was gone. Even if there had been animals in his room, he would have made sure that someone took care of them. And when he had asked Ciaran, she also would have made sure that they were taken care off.

While Ornstein had been lost in thoughts, he hadn't noticed that the little white cat had laid down beside him, purring and he absentmindedly had started to pet it, even though his hand was covered into a cold metal gauntlet. Snowy didn't seem to mind though. Hm, strange, maybe he could get behind cats after all.

Ornstein kept some of the treats for himself (a guilty pleasure only a few people knew about) and finished his patrol. There wasn't much going on. His silver knights did outstanding work and managed to deal with thieves, bandits and even Undead flawlessly. Ornstein had to admit, it probably helped that Seath would house the Undead until they were able to escort them to the asylum. Even though Ornstein felt like they always got less Undead back than they had brought in.

After Ornstein arrived back at the cathedral, he met up with Sira to take care of the paperwork she couldn't do on her own. After that was done, he cleaned out the silver knight ask box while eating the left over dried fish treats and saw even more supportive messages, which brought a smile on his face. One of them was from Amira and Terrick inviting him to a game of cards. Ornstein considered it, he really should try to go out more, spending time with his knights could be just what he needed. Even though he enjoyed some solitude, he had to admit that he had felt quite lonely lately, with Artorias, Ciaran and Gough gone, the three people he had spent so much time with over the course of several centuries.

After his duties were done for the day and the silver knights were assigned to new tasks (even though Amira and Terrick had suggested they could do it, Ornstein still wanted to do this task on his own), he fetched the colours and the brush he had bought earlier as well as the sketches from his room, unsheathed from his armour and walked to the painting room.

Ornstein prepared an easel, put the sketch on it and poured the colours on a pallet. He wanted to start with Ciaran so he mostly needed blue and some white. Soon it was only him and the strokes of his brush on the painting as Ciaran started to get some colour, first the basics, then the details. Ornstein took great care into adding lighter spots at where the sun had shone on her, he remembered the picture of her praying in front of this grave so well and that it kind of had looked beautiful how the light had reflected on her armour.

As soon as he was finished with giving the grave some colour, Ornstein stepped back and inspected his work. He found it to be a fine piece. He would have loved to show it to Ciaran, but...

Ornstein's stomach growled and he realized how much time he already had spent in the painting room. He could finish the other paintings over the course of the next few days. As he was cleaning up and on his way to leave the room, Ornstein noticed another easel which was covered with a cloth. Curious on who had painted lately and what, he removed it and stared at a painting of himself and Artorias.

Oh, that explained why blue and gold had been out.

Ornstein nearly felt like crying when he looked at the painting. It wasn't a masterpiece, far from it, it was pretty crude and bristled with beginner mistakes, but he instantly knew that Artorias had painted it. Ornstein wondered if Artorias had planned to gift it to him? Had it been his birthday? Ornstein was awfully bad at remembering it, but Artorias hadn't forgotten it any single year. Every year Ornstein had received a cake from him, often along another present, often handmade.

And now, Ornstein would never eat Artorias cake again.

Ornstein put the cloth back over the painting, wiped away the tears that had formed in his eyes and left the painting room.

After dinner, Ornstein decided to accept the invitation to the silver knight card game and thus it was far too late to continue his paintings once they finished and he excused himself to go to bed while the silver knights still seemed to want to stay awake a bit. After Ornstein did had so much sleeping trouble though, he decided to work on a consistent sleep schedule and go to bed at a reasonable hour each day.

The next few days continued in this matter. Ornstein would attend to his duties, then paint until dinner and then usually spent some time with the silver knights. Over the days, the drawings became more and more coloured.

On the first day Gough and his carvings turned into the brown and black shades the giant appeared in. On this day the silver knights wanted to play some chess and all got destroyed by Ornstein, who jokingly said they had to get Seath when they wanted a chance and ended in several silver knights trying to hold back the newbies when they actually wanted to venture into the archives.

On the second day, Ornstein's brush strokes gave colour to Artorias and Sif, which soon appeared in their usual silver-blue as well as grey. Ornstein took so much care of tiny details, that he had to postpone painting the background, because he barely managed to finish Artorias sword once it was time for dinner. This evening, the silver knights indulged in a game of truth or dare. Ornstein didn't join, but watched from the sidelines, thinking about the times he had played it with the others. This evening when Ornstein left he felt a lump in his throat.

The third day was spent with painting the forest around Artorias and Sif, before Ornstein managed to give colour to his self portrait. This day he didn't felt like hanging out with the silver knights and instead used the extra time after dinner to finish the drawing, added some details and painted the cathedral around himself. After he was done, he took a step back and admired his work. It had been some time since he last had painted, but this felt like some of his finest works. Now he had to find a place where he could hang them, but first, they needed to dry.

Ornstein decided to take a bath, he had managed to splash himself with colour quite a bit. It was a bit troublesome with the splinted fingers, but at least Gwyndolin had took off the bandage around his leg in the meantime and the bruise had almost healed, so that Ornstein didn't need to limp at all anymore. Ornstein also had arranged to visit Gwyndolin on a regular basis for some tea and them talking to each other, as friends not as knight and lord and Ornstein felt like this greatly improved his mood, he had started to look forward to visiting them ever since he had left the Dark Moon Tomb. He felt like both of them needed this visits, it made them feel less lonely.

Even though Ornstein enjoyed spending time with his silver knights, they never had the same chemistry with him than Artorias, Ciaran and Gough had. Sure, they were friendly and made him feel cherished, but ultimately, Ornstein knew they still saw him as their captain and so a certain closeness was missing. Ornstein wondered if that was what Artorias had felt about him? That Ornstein involuntary had pushed him away, because he was his captain and not because Ornstein had feared that his secret got lifted? Sadly now he would never know the answer. Artorias literally had taken it to the grave with him.

This night Ornstein had a mental breakdown again.

The next day, Ornstein had organized some picture frames, mostly from unused rooms with paintings so old that the colour already chipped off, still storing them neatly in the painting room.

Ornstein had decided where to hang his paintings and so he was in the silver knight quarters, scanning the walls, searching for the best position to hang the paintings. Once he had found a particular long wall with enough empty space, Ornstein picked up the hammer he had brought and proceeded to knock a nail in the wall, carefully taking care to not hit his hurt fingers. It was troublesome enough already with only three fingers to hold the nail and every hit on it made the injury throb, so Ornstein was pretty glad, when some help arrived in the form of Herman.

“Captain, let me help you with this.”, he shouted out. “It must be difficult for you to hold the nail with your injuries.”

“Thank you, Herman.”, Ornstein said and instructed the knight to where he wanted the nails. While he was at work, Jervis popped in, curious what Herman was doing. These two knights really had become inseparable lately. Ornstein felt like they had some father-son-dynamic going on. Which also reminded him, that he never did had a father figure in his life. The closest was probably Gough, they often jokingly had said that Gough is something like the team dad of the knights of Gwyn. And Gough had just chuckled in his low voice and said that he didn't mind having three children like them now.

Once again, reminiscing in this good old times made Ornstein feel uneasy.

“Alright, Captain, I am done.”, Herman's voice snapped Ornstein out of this thoughts.

“Thank you.”, Ornstein said and stood up, walking over to the paintings he already had framed. He picked the first one, that of Ciaran and hung it on the first nail on the wall.

“Oh, we are blessed with some original Ornstein's today.”, Herman casually said.

“What?”, Jervis asked, clearly confused.

“You see, Captain Ornstein sometimes paints and then finds a place in the cathedral to hang the paintings. This appears to be a painting from Lady Ciaran, who sadly has left us. What is the painting called?”

“Grief.”, Ornstein answered, after checking if the painting was hanging straight.

He picked up the next painting, the one of Gough carving.

“It has been so many years since I last saw Sir Gough! How is he doing?”

“Fine.”, Ornstein answered. “He carves the whole day, so much, that his body is littered with chips.”

“The title of this one?”

“Calm.”

The next painting was that of Artorias. Ornstein mulled over it for a bit before he started to hang it. This time, Herman didn't say anything.

“I called it peace.”, Ornstein explained after hanging the painting. “It is what he deserved. It is what I hope he has.” Ornstein didn't knew yet that he never would stop wondering if Artorias had actually be able to move on.

Only one painting left. He picked it up without taking a second glance.

“So know we have all of the four knights of Gwn watching over us.”, Herman mused. “And what is the title of this one, captain?”

Ornstein finished hanging the painting, looked at it, looked at the floor, blinked and stared at it again.

“The last protector.”, he finally said. ___

“How nice to see that you bless us with our presence.”

Ciaran's word stung like a hornet. Ornstein knew she didn't mean it like that, she usually was that sarcastic. He took it as a good sign. Her spraying some poison meant that she was feeling better.

“I had a lot of stuff to do and then...”, Ornstein started but didn't continue the sentence, absentmindedly petting over Sif's head instead, removing his left gauntlet to better feel the soft fur of the animal.

“What happened to your fingers?”, Ciaran asked, suddenly standing next to him, startling Ornstein so much that he jumped.

“Oh that...”, Ornstein said, staring at his fingers. “I fell.”

“Fell how? Down the stairs? Or did you trip over a cat?” Ornstein could clearly hear the irony in her voice over the last line.

“Fine, you got me, I collapsed from lack of sleep.”, Ornstein blurted out. “And then I was sick for a while and couldn't leave.”

“You insisted all this time that you were fine, but I still knew it would happen.”, Ciaran scolded him. “You should have taken care of yourself right away.”

“To be honest, Ciaran, you put on quite a burden on me when you told me that you wouldn't return to the cathedral.”, Ornstein snapped back at her.

“That is true. I am sorry for this, but I simply knew that I wouldn't be able to continue my duties.”, Ciaran casually explained.

“You want to watch over his grave.”, Ornstein said, it was a statement, not an ask. “Together with Sif.”

Ciaran simply nodded and sat back down behind the grave. After a few moments, Ornstein followed her. As he passed the grave, he took a moment to pray in front of it, sending his best wishes to Artorias. The sword of the wolf knight had been slammed into the ground. Sif was still too small to use it. And it would probably take her another 100 or 200 years to grow to her full size, great grey wolfs were a long living species but also one that grew exceptionally slow.

“So, how have you been?”, Ciaran asked once Ornstein had sat down beside her.

“Well, you know...”, Ornstein started and then he told her almost everything what had happened until he arrived back at Anor Londo. About how he drowned himself in work, how the mission with the dark wraiths went and how he was locked up by Gwyndolin in the Dark Moon Tomb for a good weak, but he didn't tell her about the mental breakdowns he had, how much he actually had vomited or that he had hung a painting of her grieving in front of Artorias makeshift grave into the silver knights quarters.

Eventually Ornstein had to leave. The way to Oolacile wasn't the shortest and he had used his free day for the visit, although this time he hadn't travelled on foot alone but actually paid some money for a carrier ride which greatly shortened the time. The first time around he mostly had decided to walk, because he had dreaded the arrival. And while this time he still had an empty feeling in his chest, Ornstein knew it was because he missed his friend, that was all. He probably would never stop to miss him, he only could get used to it.

However, Ornstein didn't want to leave back to Anor Londo right away, he had another friend to visit. As soon as he had climbed the ladder and set both feet on the ground of the tower, Gough greeted him.

“It's good to see that you are feeling better, Ornstein.”

“Yes, I am glad about this too... wait, what?”

Gough chuckled, that low chuckle that made Ornstein feel so much at ease.

“It is the way you walk, the clanks of your steps are sounding totally different depending on your mood.”, Gough explained. “So, how have you been doing lately? You took your sweet time to come for a visit.”

So Ornstein told his story a second time, pretty much the same like for Ciaran, only letting out things like his mental breakdowns, although to Gough he did tell that he had hung paintings of all four knights into the silver knight quarters.

“And when I was painting, I was discovering this other painting, it was of Artorias and me... and even though it wasn't signed I knew instantly that Artorias had painted it. Had he told you something about it?”

Gough stopped his carving and pondered for a bit, but then shook his head: “No, Artorias hasn't said anything about having done a painting. I guess he wanted it to be a surprise. Why don't you consider it as his last gift?”

“I was thinking about it anyway. Thanks for your advice, old friend.”

They both stayed like that and chatted a bit more until Ornstein really had to leave, or he would miss the carrier departing towards Anor Londo and he was supposed to pick his duties back up tomorrow. From the base of tower, Ornstein could see how Gough waved to him and Ornstein waved back.

Even though his knights weren't with him anymore, he could still visit them. And that made Ornstein feel a bit less lonely. ___

Ornstein was in his room, searching for a place to hang the painting of Artorias he had discovered in the painting room. It took him a long while to find a a place, trying out quite a few, being unsatisfied and searching for another place until he finally settled at the door. Then, he could look at it every time he left his room. And Ornstein felt like Artorias deserved this, even if he didn't knew if the painting had been intended as a gift, the dragon slayer had known the wolf knight for so long, that he pretty much didn't had any doubt about it. He would cherish this last gift Artorias had ever made him. He wanted to be able to look at it every day without even forgetting once. So the door was the perfect place for it. After he was done, Ornstein took a few steps back and just admired the painting.

Not everything was fine yet. Sometimes Ornstein still awoke in cold sweat because of a nightmare. Sometimes Ornstein still had mental breakdowns. Sometimes he had to just leave the hangout time with the silver knights because his feelings overwhelmed him and he needed to calm down. But at the same time, Ornstein had started to talk more to Gwyndolin about everything that troubled him (but he still left out he had mental breakdowns, he didn't want to burden them with this knowledge) and he regularly visited Ciaran, Gough, Sif and Artorias in Oolacile.

But Ornstein felt like he had to do one last thing to get full closure, to finally being able to accept Artorias death.

He was staying in front of Artorias room and took a few deep breathes, pacing back and forth until ten minutes had passed. “This is ridiculous, just enter.”, Ornstein scolded himself but knocked at the door first, exclaiming “Artorias, it's me, Ornstein, I am coming in.”, even though he knew Artorias couldn't be in there.

It still felt right to do it. They always had announced when they intended to enter the other's room. When Ornstein opened the door and entered, what he was seeing was a nice, tidy and cozy room.

That was so very much Artorias, he loved to keep his stuff neat and clean, just like his handwriting. The bed was neatly made, some blue sheets with a wolf pattern was on it, which made Ornstein smile, that was so fitting. The table in the room had a tea service ready to use on it. There were some books stacked on the night table, Artorias probably had intended to read them after he returned. There was a cupboard and when Ornstein opened it, Artorias clothes were hung in place, a few missing, the ones he had taken with him to Oolacile.

Ornstein also opened the drawers and sighed in relief when he didn't see any cats or dogs in them, especially because after so much time had passed they already had starved. But Ornstein also knew that Artorias would have never let that happen, he loved animals for too much for this.

Ornstein sat down on the bed. It was soft and yielded under his weight. He took the first book on the night stand and opened it.

It was Artorias cookie recipe book. Ornstein stared at his beautifully handwritten recipes and at the drawings he had added of the cookies. He stared at the notes Artorias had made. Notes about which cookie which of the knight liked the most and even notes how to make more unliked cookies better so that everyone of them could enjoy them.

Ornstein put the book aside. He felt tears streaming down his face. But, this time, he just let them be. He allowed himself this moment of grief. Yes, Ornstein would need to keep it together for a little while longer.

But he hadn't to keep it together right now. (Author's note: And we have reached the end. Thanks for everyone who supported this story. I would love to hear your opinions. Even though I halfway wanted to give up on this story, I am glad that I could get my muse back and write out this last chapter, with a scene I wanted to use to end it with over a year ago, when I first thought about writing it. I hope you enjoyed my take on how Ornstein would take Artorias death and maybe we'll see each other again on another work of mine.)

#dark souls #fanfiction #dragon slayer ornstein #lord's blade ciaran #hawkeye gough #great grey wolf sif #silver knights #I am actually very satisfied with this last chapter #sorry that my upload schedule got so messed up #littlewritesstuff

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mrslittletall · 5 years

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Title: Keeping it together (Chapter 14) Fandom: Dark Souls Characters: Dragon Slayer Ornstein, Hawkeye Gough, Alvina Word Count: 3.236 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16328084/chapters/41490575 Previous chapter: https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/182168559039/title-keeping-it-together-chapter-13

Summary: Ornstein makes a trek into the chasm of the abyss.

(Summary: This chapter is dedicated to @modounbubble, cause she pretty much inspired me to the entirety of it. Thank you, dear ^^)

The forest around the grave felt calm and still. Well, it only felt like this because the attendants of the ceremony had left. Now only Ornstein, Sif, Ciaran and Gough were still there. Ornstein took some deep breathes, absorbing the sounds of the nature around him. The singing of the birds, the chirping and buzzing of the bugs, the rustling of small rodents in the bushes, the sound of rushing water from the nearby river, Sif's huffs. Yes, Artorias would have loved it here. Ornstein could vividly imagine how the wolf knight would have laid down on the grass, staring at the sky, petting Sif, being at peace with himself and the world.

Why couldn't he die with this peace? Ornstein asked himself. They had done everything to honour their fallen friend, now it was time for them to return to Anor Londo. Without Artorias. A thought that scared Ornstein. As yet Artorias had always returned from his solo missions (well, not completely solo, he usually had Sif with him), now Ornstein had to return without him. Explaining what happened. At least there weren't any relatives left of Artorias. As a bearer of a shard of the light soul, Artorias had grown much older than his parents and he had been their only son. And Artorias never had left any children, at least no one he knew about. That at least spared Ornstein the task of having to tell his family about his death. He had a feeling, that it would have broken him.

Ornstein noticed that he had subconsciously laid on his back, knees bent, staring at the sky like he had imagined Artorias would do it. He slowly pulled himself up, taking a look around. The sun hadn't been setting yet, it would still be bright for a few hours more. Ciaran was sitting next to Sif, her hands buried in the fur of the animal. Gough hadn't moved from his spot and Ornstein strolled over to him.

“Gough, should I led you back to your tower?”, he asked.

“Hmm... I think I have been here long enough.”, Gough said, standing up. “Lead the way, captain.”

“Right now I don't feel like a captain.”, Ornstein murmured, going ahead, making sure that his footsteps would be heard clearly. “A captain wouldn't have let one of his subjects die like this.”

“It was Artorias own free will to come here, Ornstein.”, Gough said. “He knew that there was a possibility he wouldn't make it. We all knew this before every mission we took, before every battle we fought. We are knights. We are not meant to survive.”

“And yet, we did.”, Ornstein said. “Against all odds, we did survive. I know I should be happy about it.” He stopped, taking a deep breath, feeling close to tears. “Then why is it so damn painful?”

“Because you miss him.”, Gough said. The rest of the way the two knights travelled in silence.

When they had reached the tower, Gough sat down, immediately picking up one of his carvings. Ornstein decided to sit down next to him for a bit longer.

“You know, Gough, I think I considered Artorias my best friend.”, he said. “He had been always there for me, always did had an open ear, he was just always so nice. And I wonder if I did him justice as a friend.”

Gough hummed at his words. “Ornstein, Artorias considered you as a good friend as you did consider himself. We all know that you showed your affection differently than Artorias. But you also opened up a lot more to us when we were alone. But, there is one thing I have to tell you...”

Ornstein froze. That did sound bothersome. Did Artorias hide some secret from him?

“Before Artorias went to face the beast, he came to my tower to talk to me.”, Gough continued his story. “And he said he was worried about you. But every time he asked, you blocked off. Said that everything was alright. That he shouldn't worry. But Artorias said to me, he just knew that something was wrong. That you hid something from him.”

Ornstein stood up, nearly screaming: “What? I have never hid anything from Artorias. I always told him the truth. About every...” Ornstein stopped his outburst. “....oh no, there was a thing I haven't told him. None of you. I couldn't. I am still your captain, knowing it would have made me appear weak.” He clasped his hands above his head, shivering, his armour rattling. “Did he pick up on this so easily...?”

“Ornstein, it is alright to feel weak once in a while.”, Gough said. “You don't have to face this alone. Nobody of us has. Artorias wanted to tell you this once he returned from his mission. He didn't want to let you face these hardships alone anymore. Now, let me take up his mantle. Ornstein, promise me, to come here when you feel weak or when it gets too much. I may not be an active knight of Gwyn anymore, but I still care deeply about you. You don't have to face this alone.”

Ornstein took a few deep breathes. He felt horrible. More horrible as before, he hadn't been himself this last few days anyway. Or maybe this person had been who he was this whole time and it was the other Ornstein that had been a fake persona. But how could he have thought that Artorias hid secrets from him when it was the other way round? Ornstein slowly walked over to the piles of mask.

“Do you have one which apologizes?”, he asked the giant. Gough put his big hand into the pile, carefully tracing the lines of them until he grabbed one of them and handed it to Ornstein.

“Thanks.”, Ornstein said. The sun still hadn't set and Ornstein didn't want to get back to the mansion now. What even would become of Oolacile? The township laid in ruins, it seemed like Dusk's mansion was one of the only buildings that was still standing. There probably had been a place for the survivor's, they hadn't resided at the mansion. He should ask Gwyndolin to send them some supplies once he was back to Anor Londo. Ornstein walked to the edge of the tower, looking over the remains of Oolacile. There was one more thing here he wanted to do. Feel like he had to do. He took another deep breath, detached himself from the view, picked up his spear, raised a hand to wave to Gough, remembered that the giant couldn't see and said: “Farewell, Gough. I promise I will come back regularly to visit you and Artorias and Sif.” Gough just raised his big hand and waved to him without saying another word while Ornstein descended the tower.

Moments later Ornstein was striding down the Oolacile township. The last time he had been here, Sif and him had gotten rid of a majority of the transformed bloathead monstrosities. They had however stopped at a chained prisoner, an attempt to get hollows to be fighters, but it had failed pretty bad. These creatures were pretty much unstoppable forces that would come back to life again and again. Thankfully, there didn't exist much of them.

Ornstein didn't want to bother with such a strong foe right now, so he just dashed past them and hit the elevator behind them, watching them strolling back to their usual position while the dragon slayer was vanishing into the dark.

Having arrived at the bottom of the cavern, the first thing Ornstein spotted was a bonfire. A lit one of course, the Undead had been there and for some strange reason, Undead were able to kindle any bonfire, that wasn't watched over by a fire keeper. He allowed himself a short breather next to the bonfire, scanning his surroundings. He wasn't able to see anything, but he could hear them. In this chasm, there were some bloatheads left. He clutched his spear in both hands tightly, feeling the spark of its lightning powers in his fingertips. It was time to clear them out for good.

Ornstein started to walk towards the noises, eyes on the ground, trying to focus on the sounds alone and that was when he noticed the prism stones. “Artorias? Have you marked the way?”, Ornstein whispered to himself and quickly threw his spear up in a defensive stance when the first foe struck, claws clanking against the metal of the shaft, the malformed thing howling in surprise. Ornstein thrusted his spear forwards, impaling the creature with ease and managed to dodge to the side just in time when he heard the humming of the abyssal spell thrown at him. The mad cackling revealed where the sorcerer was. He dashed forwards, jumped up the cliff and drove the spear deep into the sorcerer's chest. They collapsed with a last mad cackle when he spotted the next three attackers from the corner of his eye. With a wide swing of his spear the beasts were thrown into the air and landed on each other with a hefty thud. One of them got up, growling, when Ornstein charged the lightning powers of his spear and drove the enhanced weapon through all three of them at once. Ornstein twirled around after having pulled his spear out, searching for any new foes, but he couldn't see anyone anymore. He allowed himself to relax, loosely took the spear in his right hand and continued to follow the trail of prism stones.

He was attacked by two more bloatheads when he ventured deeper into the chasm, but they were no match for him at all and he quickly disposed of them. He stopped however, when he saw the strange floating black things deeper in the cavern.

What was that? He never had seen something like this before. Ornstein came a bit closer, spear ready when one of these things pretty much flew through him! He gasped in surprise and slight pain. That had felt... weird. Like something tried to nudge at his soul... Feeling uneasy about it, Ornstein experimentally poked that strange floaty thing with his spear and was satisfied when it dissolved into nothingness. The rest of these black things seemed to be eager to pass him too, so Ornstein didn't hesitate to give every single one of them a taste of his spear. After a while of stabbing and dissolving, noticing that this things seemed to left behind what was called humanity, Ornstein managed to arrive at the end of the chasm.

He kneeled down to take a better look just how far deep the drop would be. He was confident that he could make the drop uninjured, he was really good at fall control, but he needed to make sure to be able to get back out there also. Ornstein quickly searched his belongings and found the desired item. A homeward bone. This thing had some kind of strange connection to bonfires and would bring the holder back to the last one touched, if concentrated on it. Even though bonfires were mostly an Undead thing, Ornstein had found out that divines also were able to use them as waypoint, even though they weren't healing their wounds, simply touching them would suffice. The last bonfire he had touched had been the in the township. Would also save him a good distance to walk. Now that he had everything set up, Ornstein braced himself and jumped down the hole.

The fall felt like a small eternity, but eventually the dragon slayer landed on ground, surprised that he almost felt no impact at all, as if this place had awaited him. He started to shiver instantly, this scene felt like it was brimming with darkness, it was no wonder that Artorias hadn't come out unscathed. He took a look around, searching for the source of the uneasy feeling. The cave looked surprisingly normal, there were some rocks scattered around and there, in the corner, he spotted them. A myriad of glowing red eyes. The shivering increased.

“Keep it together, it is dead, the beast has been slain.”, he told himself, trying to set one foot in front of the another, every step felt like his boots were filled with bricks. After what felt like several minutes of walking, Ornstein could see it. “So you have been the beast that Artorias corrupted.”, he said, a sad and bitter tone in his voice. He honestly had expected the beast to look much more malformed. What he was seeing, was indeed a beast, large, with black fur, horns with glowing red eyes, a tail and a far too large left hand. Multiple wounds covered the body of the beast. But most importantly, what Ornstein still could feel, the absolute darkness emitting from the corpse. His shivering increased and he fell down on his knees.

“Oh, Artorias, what have I done? Why did I send you to fight a beast that carried the abyss in itself? Why didn't I see it coming that you wouldn't be able to take it?”, he said, falling down on the side, taking in a fetus position, shivering like crazy, feeling like he was suffocating, like his guilt was washing over him like a body of deep, dark water.

“Keep it together, together, together...”, he murmured, although knowing it was too late, the breakdown had taken him down already. He only could wait now. Like he did every time. Alone. And scared. Wishing for somebody to hold him. And at the same time didn't, cause nobody should see him in that state.

After a good while, his shivering stopped and his throat didn't feel as tight anymore. Ornstein slowly got up, taking another look at the beast, sighing.

“Even when I had forbidden you to go, you would have gone anyway, right, Artorias?”, he murmured. “You would have never let down these people... I just wish... I wish I had gone with you. Maybe then everything would have changed...”

“How peculiar. Wouldn't have expected you here, dragon slayer.”

Ornstein shot around at the voice, a dark deep voice of a woman, sounding kinda snarly, having startled him so much that his heart felt that it skipped a beat. He spotted the source of the voice in the image of a big cat. Ugh, he wasn't fond of cats. They always hissed at him and just didn't seem to like his presence at all and he gave it right back to them. That cat however, was more than an ordinary house cat. It was large, with yellowish fur and a row of teeth that spread from one side of the mouth to the other. Ornstein recognized this cat.

“You are one of Artorias' friends.”, he said. “Alvina, I think. What are you doing here?”

The cat chuckled. “Yes, indeed I am. I doesn't matter what I am doing here however, the question is, what are you doing here?”, she said.

“I needed to come here, to see with my own eyes what has slain Artorias.”, Ornstein said, hands fidgeting with his ponytail.

“Oh, but you know the beast hasn't slain Artorias.”, Alvina casually said. “It was a warrior from a far away time, being sucked into this one. The legend of the abyss walker, tis but a fairy tale.” Another chuckle.

Ornstein stared at Alvina. “You know... have you seen it? Everything? Please, tell me, what happened!”, he demanded, nearly shouted at the cat.

“I must disappoint you, I haven't seen everything. I helped this Undead a bit out to find Artorias young companion, the wolf. She had been in great trouble. Artorias had managed to erect a barrier for her by sacrificing his great shield, but the Undead has been the one to save Sif out of this mess.”, Alvina told. “When I had arrived, Artorias already had been on his rampage. What a shame for a great warrior to end like this...”

Ornstein felt the pain in his stomach return, as well as the now so familiar nausea. Seeing this cat talk about everything he knew, he thought, so casually. It felt like too much for him to bare right now. “Please stop...”, he said.

“Tell me, what happened to Artorias companion?”, Alvina asked.

“Sif? I have ordered her to watch over the grave. I knew that Artorias would have liked this and Sif would never leave his side, even in death.”, Ornstein truthfully answered.

“Hmph, was that really the right decision?”, Alvina asked, her head cocked to the side.

“What do you mean?”, Ornstein wanted to know, feeling more and more confused.

“I mean, Artorias is now known as the hero who stopped the abyss, even though nothing could be farther from the thruth. Don't you think this will attract all kind of grave robbers? Shall that poor thing defend the grave from them all alone?”, the cat said.

In Ornstein's chest, the guilt spread more and more, making his nausea worse. “Shit, I haven't thought this through...”, he said.

“That idiot is lucky that I have thought of everything. I intent to form a covenant. A covenant to protect this forest. Everyone who joins this covenant, will be committed to protect the forests from any intruders. Also, I will tell everyone who crosses the forest, that Artorias tale has been nothing but lies. So that they don't want to go to the grave.”, Alvina explained.

“That actually... sounds like a really good idea.”, Ornstein said. “Do you want me to get the word out about your covenant?”

“Not necessary.”, Alvina said. “I already have my fair share of supporters. But maybe it has been fate that we met here, cause you might want to help out sometimes.”, Alvina handed him a ring. “Wear this and you can get summoned to the forests to fight anyone who wants to defile the grave of your dear friend.”

“Thanks, Alvina.”, Ornstein said. “Maybe it truly was fate that we met down here after all.”

“Who knows? If you want to talk to me, I will be in the forest.”, Alvina said with a last chuckle and just poofed away. The cat had been an illusion all along. Ornstein stared at the ring in his hand, expecting it to vanish anytime soon, but it stayed there, solid and very real.

“Maybe I should train Sif a bit every time I visit Artorias grave.”, he said, fumbling for the homeward bone. He concentrated on the item and shortly after felt the pull and then the cold warmth of the bonfire of the township. The sun had nearly set in the meantime.

Ornstein decided to head back to the mansion. He didn't knew if he wanted any dinner, still feeling nauseous from his experience in the chasm. But he clearly needed some rest now. And tomorrow he and Ciaran would need to travel the long way back to Anor Londo. Ornstein silently hoped that she had returned to the mansion and wasn't still sitting near the grave.

The dragon slayer watched as the sun vanished completely behind a far away mountain and began his trek back to the mansion, the darkness of the night starting to engulf him. Next chapter: https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/182556779114/title-keeping-it-together-chapter-15

#dark souls #fanfiction #dragon slayer ornstein #hawkeye gough #alvina #littlewritesstuff #hope you like the update #thanks again bubble #now trying to figure out the rest of the story...

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mrslittletall · 5 years

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Title: Keeping it together (Chapter 2) Fandom: Dark Souls Characters: Dragon Slayer Ornstein, Lord's Blade Ciaran, Hawkeye Gough Word Count: 1.578 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16328084/chapters/38359385 Previous chapter: https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/179151495764/title-keeping-it-together-chapter-1

Summary: In which Ornstein arrives at Oolacile.

Ornstein stared in his chamber pot, which contained the remains of what once had been rice porridge. He had been able to get a bit of sleep, but then had woken up with such an intense nausea that he barely managed to grab the pot before it all spilled it all out. Now he sat hunched before it, breathing heavily, still don't trusting his stomach, but after ten minutes had passed, he was content that at the nausea was gone now. At least something good came out of this uncomfortable experience. Sadly, his stomach ache still remained.

With a deep sigh, Ornstein put the chamber pot beside his bed side and used the jar of water on his night stand to clean out the bad taste in his mouth. Then he crawled back into bed, laying down on his back and trying to drift back to sleep, without any success. His mind wandered to the following day. To the thought of Artorias never coming back to the cathedral. Even worse, the thought of him never being able to talk to Artorias anymore. There would be no more duels, no more patrols together, no more cookies. Ornstein shifted around in his bed and grabbed a pillow to hold on tight. They both had known that something like this could happen everyday. But... why had Artorias to be the first one of them who died? He always had been able to hold all of them together...

“Keep it together.”, Ornstein whispered in the pillows, noticing that tears had started to flow. “I am sure he has died an honourable death at last. That he will be remembered as the hero we all knew he is.”

This thought comforted Ornstein a bit and eventually he was able to drift back into an uneasy sleep.

The next morning Ornstein woke up with his stomach still slightly aching. He pulled the blankets back to get out of bed and nearly stepped in the chamber pot at his bed side. Right, he had puked in the night... Ornstein got dressed, put on his armour and cleaned out the chamber pot before grabbing the empty plate and making his way to the kitchen to give back the used dishes.

“Are you feeling better? Did it upset your stomach?”, the same servant as yesterday wanted to know.

“Everything was fine. Thanks for the meal.”, Ornstein lied and got some light food to eat as breakfast. Hopefully it would stay down this time.

After he had eaten, he was searching for his most trusted silver knights to put them in charge while he was away. He had decided for two of them, a spear silver knight and a sword silver knight who were related to each other and whose family were serving in Gwyn's army since generations. He knew he could trust them to keep up the order in the cathedral. He was still a tiny bit worried. He hadn't followed Artorias on his mission, not only because he trusted the wolf knight to be able to handle it on his own, but also because the situation in Anor Londo wasn't good, with undead hollowing and demon sightings everywhere. It put the population at ease having at least one of Gwyn's knight around. Well, Ornstein couldn't help it, if one of them fell, he had to come to pay his respects. He would make sure to get everything done as quickly as possible and return with Ciaran. This thought felt a bit comforting to him. At least he wouldn't feel that alone with his pain.

After Ornstein had made sure, that everything was taken care off, he shortly visited Gwyndolin in the Dark Moon Tomb and told them that he would be on his way now and which silver knights where in charge. Gwyndolin wished him a safe journey and Ornstein got on his way.

It was late afternoon when he arrived in Oolacile. He had gotten lunch on a tavern on the way, but regretted it a bit. The rich food had upset his stomach again and made his nausea return. And it had gotten worse with each step closer to the Royal Garden, the place where he had been told he could find Ciaran.

After asking around a bit further, Ornstein was pointed to the large circular arena. After entering, he took a glance around. It was obvious, that a battle had taken place here. There was blood on the ground and he could spot some strange black ooze as well as one of the deformed Oolacile citizens, laying dead near a wall. He also noticed a large figure hidden under a blanket. He assumed, that this was Artorias corpse. This assumption got further confirmed by Sif, Artorias wolf companion, laying besides it. Sif raised her head when she heard Ornstein's footstep and looked at him with vigilant eyes, before laying it back down, certain that Ornstein wasn't any danger. The sight of the assumed corpse made Ornstein's stomach feel even more uneasy, so he unglued his gaze from it and instead searched for Ciaran. He found her praying in front of a makeshift grave. Ornstein approached her slowly. She looked up when she heard his footsteps.

"You are here so soon?", she asked.

"I did send you a message. Haven't you received it?"

Ciaran pulled out the message he had sent to her and unfolded it: "I had trouble reading it. Couldn't make out when you wanted to come. I am sorry."

He had completely forgotten this! His handwriting was so messy, that almost everyone had great trouble reading it properly. Strangely, Artorias had been the one who could read his handwriting with no trouble at all and a part of Ornstein had still assumed, that he would just read it for Ciaran, only that he... couldn't do it anymore.

"I am so sorry. I forgot...", he started and then had to stop because the stomach in his pain flared up badly.

“It was a shock for all of us, so I am not surprised that you forgot.”, Ciaran murmured and stood up, turning around. “How did you take it?”

There wasn't any point in lying to Ciaran, she knew him for hundreds of years now. He lowered his spear until it scrapped on the ground and said: “It was... a shock, honestly. I barely could believe that message and even was thinking for a fraction of a second that it must have been a bad joke.”

“You know that I would never joke about this.”, Ciaran said, crossing her arms.

“I guess this is for Artorias?”, Ornstein asked and pointed with the tip of his spear at the grave. Ciaran nodded and stepped to the side. Ornstein got down on his knees, closed his eyes and spoke a silent prayer for his fallen comrade. Even though he didn't know who this prayer was directed at, he just hoped the right god would hear it.

He opened his eyes after finishing the prayer and noticed that the plume of Artorias helmet had been laid down on the makeshift grave along with some white flowers, he recognized them as Artorias favourite. The sight made his stomach drop, it showed how much Ciaran had cared for him. Ornstein stood up.

“How is Gough?”, he asked. The giant archer had retired from his duties in Anor Londo for quite some years now and decided to spent his days in Oolacile. Sadly, he got blinded by some biased townsfolk who were thinking that Gough was just a brute.

“I think it would be easiest if we just visit him.”, Ciaran said. “It has been hard for all of us... we surely can need the comfort from each other.”

Ornstein silently followed Ciaran to the tower where Gough resided nowadays, spending pretty much all his waking hours with carving. After they entered, the giant archer moved his head in their apparent direction. Even with Gough's restricted sight, it amazed Ornstein how well Gough could perceive his surroundings. That showed even more when Gough started to speak: "Are you alright, Ornstein? You seem to be pretty shaken..."

“Neither me nor Ciaran have said anything yet.”, he answered.

“Footsteps, breathing, I don't need more to know who is coming along.”, Gough said. “You haven't answered my question.”

“I am just... still in shock.”, Ornstein said, once again greatly understating how he actually felt, but he really didn't want to worry them even more, not with the grief they already were carrying around. He decided to to change the subject instead: "On the way here I heard about what Artorias had achieved. They call him the Abysswalker now. Artorias always wanted such a title. He would be so happy about this. And at least, he could die the death of a hero." Ornstein had been very relieved to hear this tales, it was what Artorias deserved. So he felt a bit stumped when Ciaran and Gough exchanged this kind of look, as if they knew something he didn't.

“Alright, what do you know that I don't know?”, he demanded to know of them.

"There is something we need to tell you...", started the giant.

"I will show it to him...", Ciaran said. “But beware, it's an ugly truth.”

Ornstein felt the pain in his stomach flare up again, but he wouldn't falter: "I don't care. Please show me the truth." Next chapter: https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/179659307549/title-keeping-it-together-chapter-3

#dark souls #fanfiction #dragon slayer ornstein #lord's blade ciaran #hawkeye gough #great grey wolf sif #littlewritesstuff #come on orn #stop understating how you feel

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mrslittletall · 5 years

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Title: Keeping it together (Chapter 9) Fandom: Dark Souls Characters: Dragon Slayer Ornstein, Lord's Blade Ciaran, Dusk of Oolacile Word Count: 1.579 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16328084/chapters/39871518 Previous chapter: https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/180833198144/title-keeping-it-together-chapter-8

Summary: The answer from Gwyndolin arrives and Dusk asks a question.

Ornstein jerked up when he felt someone nudge him, gasping and shouting: “What is it? Did we have another dragon attack? Do we need to move out?”

He managed to get a glance at Ciaran, standing in front of his bed, baffled. “Ornstein, the dragon war has been hundreds of years ago? Were you dreaming?”

Ornstein flopped back into the pillows, hissing when he felt a pang in his stomach, it seemed to be back. He should get another cup of that tea.

“Yes, I must have been dreaming...”, he murmured.

“Anyway.”, Ciaran said. “I was searching the whole area for you until I found out you decided to take a nap in broad daylight. We have Gwyndolin's answer.” She produced an envelope and waved with it.

Ornstein shot up again, regretting the sudden motion when a bit of nausea washed over him. He slowly and carefully moved to the side of the bed, sitting on the edge. Ciaran handed him the envelope.

“Ornstein, if you feel that sick, ask Dusk for some medicine already.”, Ciaran said. “A blind man can see that you are not feeling well.”

“It will be fine, I just ask for another cup of that tea.”, Ornstein mumbled more to himself and looked at the envelope, seeing that it was indeed sealed with the dark moon, the symbol of Gwyndolin. He broke the seal and read the answer.

“What does it say?”, Ciaran asked.

“You all knew Artorias the best. I give you the authority to make the decision in my position.”, Ornstein read aloud.

“Oh well, that felt like a waste of time.”, Ciaran annotated. “I think we all have agreed that Artorias would have loved it to be buried here. Shall we bring our decision to Princess Dusk?”

Ornstein stood up from the bed and walked over to his armour, getting it on.

“Yes, we should tell her. Is she out in the garden again?”, he asked, already opening the door to the garden without waiting for a reply. He glanced outside and saw that it already was late noon, almost evening. “Wait, how long have I slept?”, he asked himself.

“Depending on when you laid down, it must have been quite some time.”, Ciaran mentioned from behind. “She should be in the garden, she seems to spend most of her time there.” Ciaran swiftly walked past Ornstein, scanning the garden. Ornstein followed her and quickly spotted Dusk sitting on the same spot as the last time. He walked over and sat down next to her. The princess flinched a bit when she realized his presence.

“Princess Dusk, we got the answer from Anor Londo.”, Ornstein said. Dusk turned her head, smiled the usual sad smile and said: “Oh, that was pretty quick. And what is your decision?”

“We have decided that you can erect a grave for Artorias in the Royal Garden. We knights have talked about it, agreed that he would love it and the Dark Sun approves of our decision.”, Ornstein explained.

“Well then.”, Dusk got up. “We will start preparations on the grave at once tomorrow. It should take us a day and a half until everything is ready for the ceremony.”

“Wait, what? That is awfully quick.”; Ornstein said, bewildered.

“Oolacile isn't called the land of golden sorceries for nothing.”, Ciaran said. Ornstein had almost forgotten that she was there too, she was awfully good in hiding her presence.

“Lady Ciaran is right.”, Dusk said. “With the help of our magic we can greatly shorten the time of such a work.” Her face darkened a bit. “Of course we are short of workers... but we will make sure to give Artorias the nicest grave we can muster. After all, we are in a great debt and this is just a little thing how we can repay him.”

Ornstein's stomach cramped again. No, he had to keep it together. Soon, this all would be over with.

“It has gotten quite late.”, Dusk said, staring at the sky. “How about both of you join us for some dinner?”

Ornstein looked at Ciaran, who only shrugged. “We gladly accept your offer.”, he said. “... Can I get another cup of that herbal tea?”

“Of course.”, Dusk said and started to walk towards the mansion. “Although maybe you should think about taking some medicine now? Are you sure you are able to stomach something?”

“It will be fine, it isn't that bad.”, Ornstein said and then with a raised voice cause Ciaran had let loose a sarcastically cough. “I just don't want to get it worse.”

A short while later they all were seated on the table, Ornstein and Ciaran on one side while Dusk and her maidens occupied the other side. Ornstein had gotten the requested cup of tea and was sipping from it while they were waiting for the food. He didn't even knew that Ciaran was capable of it, but she was holding some small talk with the maidens while Dusk just sat there quietly, with that fake smile on her face. Ornstein started to wish she would stop it. It made him feel uneasy. It reminded him too much of himself.

Luckily, the food arrived. It seemed to be chicken soup. The kind of food you would give to a sick person. Ornstein wondered if she had ordered this food on purpose while he took his sweet time eating it, trying to stomach it all this time. He could see from the corner of his eye that Ciaran barely ate anything and mostly stared at the food listless. He decided to concentrate on his own food instead, watching her made him feel far too uneasy.

“Would one of you agree to hold a speech at the burial ceremony?”, the voice of Princess Dusk sounded. Ornstein nearly tossed his spoon in the soup and caught it just in time. He had completely forgotten about this. Of course one of them had to honour their fallen comrade like that. Before he could even say something in the matter, Ciaran took up the word.

“I am not one for giving speeches. I will leave this to my captain instead.”, she said.

“Ciaran, you can't just dump that on me.”, Ornstein grumbled. “But I guess I am the right one for doing it, I am the captain after all...”

“So, you will do it? How wonderful.”, Dusk said, hands folded in front of her.

“Yes, I will hold a speech at the ceremony.”, Ornstein said and got back to concentrating on his plate again, trying to avoid the satisfied face of the princess.

After dinner, Ornstein retreated to his room in the mansion. Ciaran had made clear that she would go back to the arena again, because someone had to watch over Artorias. Ornstein still had the conversation with her before she left on his mind.

“You have barely eaten anything, Ciaran, I noticed.”, he said.

“You are one to talk.”, she responded. “You can give me lectures when you manage to keep your food in.”

“Touché...”, Ornstein whispered. “Still, I am worried, you haven't felt like yourself since I arrived here.”

“Don't worry about me, better worry about that speech.”, Ciaran said and with that the discussion had been over. Ornstein stopped musing over it and stared at the scroll he had spread on the table, quill in hand. How should he start with that speech?

People probably would want to hear about the deeds he did and for what he died? Should he start in the beginning? That would have been the dragon war. Some fond memories of them fighting dragons together flooded his mind, but it darkened at once, thinking that he never would fight side by side with Artorias again... Shit, stuff like this really shouldn't be in the speech. He should get it together and just start writing. So he dipped the quill into ink and started writing.

He had just finished the first three sentences when he felt the breakdown coming. He didn't want to. He had to keep it together. He clenched the quill and continued writing, furiously scribbling on the paper until his hand shook so much that he dropped the quill. Some ink drops stained the paper as Ornstein put his hand on his forehead, he felt sweat forming. “No, keep it together.”, he murmured his mantra. “Don't break down over this. You haven't even come to the lie.” That realization was too much, his stomach turned upside down and the next thing he knew was that he was in the outhouse puking out all of the soup.

Ornstein staggered back in the room, grabbed the jar of water and cleaned out his mouth, spitting the water out in the flower fields in the garden. He returned to the table, massaging his stomach. He felt hot, really hot. Did he come down with a fever? He sat down on the table, picked up the quill and stared at the scroll.

He had scribbled “Keeping it together” all over it. Ornstein tossed the quill aside and just let his head fall on the table, sighing loudly.

Oh well, he had the whole day tomorrow to write the speech. He shouldn't overdo it. Ornstein decided to call it a day for now and got ready for bed. (Author's note: Poor Ornstein... he is so confused and this guy just needs to admit that he needs some help... And Ciaran isn't much better.) Next chapter: https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/181248417474/title-keeping-it-together-chapter-10

#dark souls #fanfiction #dragon slayer ornstein #lord's blade ciaran #dusk of oolacile #littlewritesstuff #oh no I am out of chapters!#now I have to write more!

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mrslittletall · 5 years

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Title: Keeping it together (Chapter 12) Fandom: Dark Souls Characters: Dragon Slayer Ornstein, Dusk of Oolacile, Elizabeth Word Count: 2.245 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16328084/chapters/40622222 Previous chapter: https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/181462833169/title-keeping-it-together-chapter-11 Summary: Ornstein has a talk with Dusk.

While Ornstein just used a wet cloth to clean his armour from any blood or goop, Sif had been bathing completely in the water. Orstein still saw that she needed some help and helped her wash her fur out. He watched as the blood got carried away by the splashing of the waterfall.

It was far too late now for Ornstein to be continuing being out. He had to go back to the mansion and work on the speech now. Enough distraction. He escorted Sif back to the arena or it felt more like Sif escorted him back to the arena, said his good nights to Ciaran and Gough and made his way back.

Back at his room, he saw that everything was still like he left. Even the breakfast was still there. He picked it up, took a bite, but promptly put it down again, after having left out in the open for the whole day, the taste had drastically decreased. He sat down on the table and stared at the words he had already written.

“What would Artorias do?”, Ornstein murmured to himself. The words on the paper felt wrong and foreign to him. As if he hadn't even been himself when he wrote it. How should he be able to get into Artorias mind when he couldn't even understand his own? Ornstein picked the quill up and tapped with it on the table, still not knowing where to go with this.

Also, Ornstein realized that he needed to go and that he was hungry. Oh well, he could take care of the first quickly and then get some food. He couldn't concentrate like this anyway. Ornstein made a quick trip to the outhouse and then got some food that he ate at his room. After he was done and laid down his silverware, there wasn't any reason for him anymore to not write that speech. He picked up the quill again, determined to finally do this, but...

Ten minutes passed where he just sat there deadpan. A deep sigh escaped his lips. He just needed to write a speech to honour Artorias. Why was this so difficult for him? He would put this quill on the parchment right now and just write it!

Moments later Ornstein was walking back and forth through the garden in full armour, repeating “Keeping it together” to himself again and again. His stomach felt upset, he was shivering, he felt close to puking and he didn't want to, not again, not after he barely had kept any food in himself... That was when he heard the sniffling of someone. He turned his head and approached the sound to see Princess Dusk sitting there, the same spot as the last time, tears freely flowing down her face, her long hair unbraided and falling over her back, glittering in the moonshine. When she heard Ornstein's footsteps approaching, she shot around, quickly dried her tears and put on that forced smile.

“...Oh, Sir Ornstein, my apologies, I haven't noticed you...”, she said.

Ornstein just stared at her. “Please don't.”, he said.

Dusk stared at him with eyes wide from confusion. “What do you mean?”, she asked.

“That smile. It's fake. It...”, he stopped for a brief moment, taking some deep breathes, this conversation wasn't the best for his already upset stomach. “It reminds me to much of... someone.”

“I am...sorry.”, Dusk said. The tears started to well up in her eyes again. “My kingdom is in shambles. My people are dead or transformed into hideous creatures. The knight who saved me paid with his very own life.” She put her face in her hands, sobbing. “And nobody can see me cry, cause I am their princess and someone has to stay strong. For them!” She took some deep breathes, sniffling: “And there is no one who can understand how this feels.”

Ornstein sat down next to her: “Princess, let me tell you a story.”, he said. “Once there had been a boy who wanted to become a knight. And he did it, he was known as one of the strongest, brave knights and got handed a specialized armour. Whenever he wore that armour, he was the symbol of the people. They knew they could rely on him, they knew he would be there for them, they knew he would shine for them if hope was low. But they didn't knew, that below this armour, the boy just wanted to cry, to break down, to seek comfort at someone for all the terrible things that happened to him, but he wasn't allowed to. The symbol couldn't falter. He just had to... keep it together...”

Ornstein fell silent, feeling the gaze of Princess Dusk at him. At least she seemed to have stopped crying, he couldn't hear her sobs anymore. She gasped in realization: “The boy in the story...it is you.”

“Yes...”, Ornstein said. “So, um, you are not alone with this feeling, Princess.”

“Thank you... this actually makes me feel a little bit better.”, Dusk said. There wasn't a smile on her face anymore. “It makes me feel... less alone.” They both set next to each other in silence when Princess Dusk suddenly asked: “Can I tell you something?”

“I will listen to you.”, Ornstein simply answered.

“When I was in the abyss, snatched by that best... my faculties were far from lucid but I quite clearly sensed certain emotions.”, the princess started. “A wrenching nostalgia, a lost joy, an object of obsession and a sincere hope to reclaim it... Could these thoughts belong to the beast from the abyss, I wonder?”

“Are you trying to tell me that the beast that killed my friend has just been some misunderstood being?”, Ornstein said. “It shows your empathy, princess, for being able to try to see beyond this but for me, that thing killed my friend and almost wiped a whole city off the ground. I don't need anymore reason to be glad over its death.”

“Of course. I am sorry to having bothered you with this.”, Dusk said. “The blame is to put on Oolacile, if we had never awakened it, none of this would have been happened. I know it isn't enough, but I only can owe my sincerest apologies to you.” The tears started to well up in Dusk's eyes again.

Ornstein waited a few more minutes, but the princess had felt silent and eventually he got up and returned to his room, staring at the parchment which still had no useable speech on it. It was already so late and Ornstein had to groan only thinking about sitting down at this table another time. He decided to get more comfortable, stripped out of his armour, put some more comfortable clothes on and went into his bed, using a book to support the parchment, writing utensils moved to his night stand. Now he just needed to write that thing.

When Ornstein awoke his face had crumpled the parchment and bright line was shining into the room through the windows. He blinked, one time, two times, then jerked up. It was morning already! Oh no, that was bad, really bad. He uncrumpled the parchment to see how far he had come with the speech before he had fallen asleep to see that he didn't add a single word. He got up and sat down on the desk. He needed to write this speech now!

Moments later the dragon slayer was in the outhouse puking out all what was leftover from his dinner. It was no use. How should he finish to write this speech or attend the burial in that state? He needed to take some medicine now.

After asking around a bit Ornstein found Princess Dusk deeper in the forest, where she was overseeing the work on the grave. They were already pretty far, what was to be expected, the ceremony was set for this afternoon after all. The gravestone had already been finished constructed and was in the process of being erected and Ornstein could see some golems with shovels which probably were there to dig out the actual grave. He approched Dusk carefully and cleared his throat to get her attention.

“Oh, Sir Ornstein.”, she said after noticing him. “Have you come to get an overview over the grave for Sir Artorias?”

He shook his head. “No, that isn't it... it is lovely though, I am sure Artorias will like it.”, he said. “Actually, I have come here to ask you for that medicine you have offered me.”

“Of course.”, Dusk said. “I am glad you are finally asking for it. It must be awfully difficult to be sick on top of all of this. Would you please follow me?”

While following Dusk, Ornstein noticed, that Dusk, while keeping a friendly and polite tone, hadn't smiled once to him. It made him smile under his helmet unconsciously. She remembered that it had made him feel uncomfortable. Dusk led him to the area he remembered from a few days ago, near the sanctuary guardian. They stopped in front of a wall where some giant mushroom grew and Dusk said: “May I introduce you to my godmother? This is Elizabeth.”

That was when Ornstein realized that his mushroom actually had eyes. Elizabeth must have been the weirdest being Ornstein had ever seen. She was literally a giant, talking mushroom growing out of the wall. “How...nice to meet you.”, Ornstein said.

“My, my, Dusk, you have brought some famous company with you.”, Elizabeth said.

“Actually, Elizabeth, I am here to ask for your help.”, Dusk said, smiling, and this time it was a genuine smile. She must have felt mostly secure around Elizabeth.

While Dusk talked to her, Ornstein's thoughts wandered to how she procreated, how her offspring would look like and how much Artorias would have loved to see little mushroom kids running around, so he didn't notice when the conversation was directed at him and he had to apologize: "I am so sorry, I didn't listen. Could you repeat that?"

"I was asking which are your afflictions.", Elizabeth said in her calm voice.

"Since a few days I am having nauseating stomach aches.", Ornstein answered.

"Nauseating. Did you need to vomit?", the mushroom lady inquired.

Ornstein first looked down on the ground, pawing it with his foot a bit before raising his head again and answering: "Yes. Quite a few times..."

"I see. Please wait a moment." A short while later Elizabeth handed him an item with a squishy texture that looked like it came straight out of her body.

He stared at it for a while: "I don't know how to feel about this..." Eating something that could very well be a part of Elizabeth's body felt so weird.

"Don't worry, it is absolute safe to eat. And it doesn't affect me badly at all. And you don't need to feel bad about your reaction, I am a mushroom after all.", Elizabeth ended the sentence with a chuckle.

"I am really sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. It's just...", the absurdity of this situation. Ornstein didn't finish the sentence. He heard Dusk chuckle beside him.

“Oh, I know, it can be really off putting the first time, but believe me, Elizabeth's mushrooms are working every time. I assure you. I have taken them myself quite a few times already.”, she reassured him.

After hearing this words, Ornstein did open the visor part of his helmet to eat the mushroom he had been handed. It didn't even taste bad or weird, it actually was quite tasty. And soon after eating the medicine the pain started to dissolve and the nausea instantly got better. "That is amazing.", Ornstein exclaimed. He had never had seen a medicine that worked so quickly. Even Gwyndolin's medicine would take a while to take effect and they often would have some heavy side effects.

"I am quite a good healer.", Elizabeth said. "You can always come back should you need some more. Although they are very much part of my body. I can't make them infinitely without needing to rest."

"I owe you my thanks. This should suffice.", Ornstein bowed before the mushroom. "I can now continue with my work." He and Princess Dusk bid their goodbyes to her and walked back to the mansion together.

“I am sorry that I have interrupted your work, Princess.”, Ornstein said.

“Don't worry about it, Sir Ornstein.”, Dusk said. “I am just glad that you finally came and asked for help. You don't have to endure it alone when you are feeling sick... I am looking forward to hear your speech at the burial later.”

“The speech, yes..”, Ornstein said. They had arrived at the mansion and Ornstein bid his goodbye to Dusk who returned to oversee the ceremonial preparations.

Ornstein sat down at the desk again and stared at the parchment and the words he had scribbled on it already. The speech he was so unsatisfied with. He was letting Gough's and Ciaran's word wandering through his mind. “What would Artorias do?” and “I thought you knew Artorias better than that.” So.. what would have Artorias done? If he would have been still around? Probably having hold Ornstein's hair when he puked... Oh... Oooh, that is what they meant. He took up the quill and started to write. (Author's note: I used some of Dusk's canon dialogue in this chapter.) Next chapter: https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/182168559039/title-keeping-it-together-chapter-13

#dark souls #fanfiction #dragon slayer ornstein #dusk of oolacile #elizabeth #littlewritesstuff #I like this chapter #it took me awfully long to write though #it literally only finished yesterday

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mrslittletall · 5 years

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Title: Keeping it together (Chapter 4) Fandom: Dark Souls Characters: Dragon Slayer Ornstein, Lord's Blade Ciaran, Dusk of Oolacile Word Count: 1.145 Previous chapter: https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/179659307549/title-keeping-it-together-chapter-3 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16328084/chapters/38778002

Summary: In which a mansion is visited.

Luckily the walk to the mansion was a short one. Princess Dusk was sitting on a bench in front of it and stood up when she saw the visitors approaching.

"Lady Ciaran, what brings you to our humble home?", she asked with a polite bow before she noticed Ornstein: "Oh, you have brought company today?"

Ciaran nodded, stepping next to Ornstein: "Yes, this is Ornstein, captain of the knights of Gwyn, also called the dragon slayer."

The eyes of the princess went wide: "Oh, of course I've heard of the famous dragon slayer. It's a pleasure to meet you." She gave him another bow.

"The pleasure is mine, princess.", Ornstein returned the bow, even though feeling a bit ridiculous, being basically twice the size of both the women around him.

"I assume you are here to pay your respects to Sir Artorias? We owe him so much.", Princess Dusk said. "He saved Oolacile from being wiped off the map."

Ornstein could feel a knot forming in his throat, not good for his queasiness. It didn't help that his stomach ache gave him a painful reminder. He just wasn't keen talking about this subject now. While he was still searching for words, Ciaran picked up the conversation: "Actually, Ornstein isn't feeling to well right now. Do you have a place where he could rest for a while?"

Ornstein just stared at Ciaran. It was typical for her to be blunt about things, but he really would have liked for her to not make it sound like he was sick. And of course Princess Dusk now had a concerned look on her face and asked: "Oh no, are you feeling sick? I'll could get you some medicine if you want."

Ornstein quickly shook his head: "I am just exhausted from the journey. It should be better after I got some rest."

Princess Dusk instructed one of her servants to show Ornstein to one of the guest rooms. While Ciaran and Ornstein were silently following them, Ornstein thought about if he should get Ciaran one of his infamous shin kicks for blurting out stuff without him asking if he would comfortable about it first. Ultimately, he decided against it, either he could accidentally break the leg of the small woman or what was much more likely, she simply would dodge and leave him exposed to trip.

They had arrived at their destination and the servant handed Ornstein a key for the room. “There should be everything in here you need.”, they said. “The room also has a backdoor to the garden, which you are free to use. The outhouse is also back there. Of course I can get you a bucket if you are in need of it.”

Ornstein surely hoped that he didn't need to throw up anymore and shook his head. “Thanks, but I should be good.”, he said and entered the room. He noticed with slight satisfaction, that the furniture was big enough to house a being of his size. It already had happened to him that he had to stay at human settlements and their furniture was far too small for him, giving him some uneasy nights.

“It is already late, we can continue talking about everything tomorrow.”, Ciaran said. “I will get back to the arena now.”

Ornstein had already been in the process of discarding his armour, but stopped at her words. “Aren't you going to stay here too for the night?”, he asked.

“I want to keep watch...”, she said. “But don't worry, I will come here to sleep once I am tired enough. You know that I am used to stay up late. You just concentrate on getting some rest.”

Ciaran waved at him and left the room, closing the door behind her. Ornstein searched in his belongings for a night shirt to put on and laid down in the bed, he probably wouldn't want to get anything to eat anymore anyway. He closed his eyes, taking a few deep breathes, trying to get the nauseous feeling away. But all it did was making his mind focusing on everything he had heard today.

When he had come here, he had been sure of two things. First, that he had to face Artorias dead body and second, that the thought of him having died as a hero was incredible comforting.

But then he had heard the truth and everyone he had taken for granted had fallen apart. Artorias mission had been a failure. He probably could be described as some kind of fallen hero, even threatening to hurt the ones who were precious to him. Ornstein wondered how Artorias had felt through all of this and if he even had been able to still feel things inside him in this state. Ornstein was sure, that his friend deeply would regret that he failed his mission. Artorias himself would probably see himself as the greatest failure and the sheer thought of the wolf knight dying with the regret of having failed everybody pained Ornstein even more. Ciaran had seen the whole fight with the Undead, but she didn't said anything about Artorias having uttering a single word. Ornstein should ask her about this the next day. And also about the whereabouts of Artorias souls. The undead probably had it. Undead tended to draw souls to them, especially when they lingered a bit longer in this world.

Ornstein began to shiver. So soon already? This day had been long and exhausting. It didn't surprise him that his mental state couldn't hold up anymore, but he would had appreciated a break before his next breakdown happened. He grabbed the blankets, embracing himself for the feeling of dread, fear and helplessness when a knock on his door startled him and he nearly felt like his heart stopped.

“Sir Ornstein, I was send here to ask if you would like to join us for dinner.” The voice of one of Princess Dusk's servants sounded.

Ornstein took a deep breath, raising slightly from the bed before answering, trying to sound as calm as possible: “No, thank you. Please don't disturb me anymore.”

“As you wish.”, the voice said and Ornstein could hear footsteps moving away from the door. Ornstein flopped back into the pillow and pulled the blankets over his head.

"Keep it together.", he whispered to himself. “What are you doing, breaking down like that? You have to stay tall and proud. For the sake of Artorias. For the sake of everyone. You are the lion knight and you have to show it."

But deep within himself, he knew that it was just a mantra, something he said to keep himself going, to put up a composure to make others believe that he would never falter. These thoughts accompanied him and his shivering, shaken form until he managed to drift to sleep. Next chapter: https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/180110361629/title-keeping-it-together-chapter-5

#dark souls #fanfiction #dragon slayer ornstein #lord's blade ciaran #dusk of oolacile #littlewritesstuff

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mrslittletall · 6 years

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Title: Duel Gone Wrong (Chapter 15) Fandom: Dark Souls Characters: Dragon Slayer Ornstein, Artorias the Abysswalker, Lord's Blade Ciaran Word Count: 2.406 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14026326/chapters/34884833 Previous chapter: https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/175013331904/title-duel-gone-wrong-chapter-14-fandom-dark

Summary: In which Ciaran has to sort out the mess.

(Author's note: This chapter turned out a bit longer than usual cause I just couldn't find a good way to cut it, but I don't think that anyone minds a longer chapter ^^

Ciaran enjoyed the stillness of the night. She wandered around in the cathedral almost every night time, listening to the tiny noises only the dark could produce and having fun hiding from the silver knights that were on night shift.

So it was really bothering that this comfortable silence was broken by loud sighing. Annoyed she walked into the direction of the noise to see Artorias leaning over the railing of one of the balconies, in a slumped posture, still in full armour, looking like he felt miserable. Ciaran came closer.

“Why are you still up at this late hour, Artorias?”, she asked. “Are you having trouble sleeping?”

Artorias turned around at the sound of her voice. “Oh, it's you, Ciaran.”, he murmured.

“You haven't answered my question. What is wrong?”, Ciaran demanded to know.

Artorias sighed once more. “Oh, it's just... about Ornstein.” Of course! These two had a weird relationship going on. At one moment they could act like brothers who had known each other for years and at another moment they had a certain awkwardness between them that was barely to endure, even for someone like her who only watched.

“Did something happen today?”, Ciaran asked, now leaning at the railing too next to Artorias. She was aware how ridiculous that had to look cause of their size difference. Actually, she had to stand on her toes to even reach the railing.

“Today? The last few days have been a mess!”, Artorias started to ramble. “First, I break his arm. Then I fail completely at silver knight training and the prince had to sort it out. And just when I want to make it up to him and show him my side of Anor Londo, I managed to make him feel uncomfortable.... Also, the kitten incident...”

The what? That sounded more hilarious than bad. Ciaran thought about a few scenarios in which a kitten would be involved and came to the conclusion, how funny it would have been if a kitten would have played with Ornstein's ponytail. That thing just had to have a magical attraction to cats. Under her mask, her lip split into a grin.

But now wasn't the time to be amused by something that might have happened to Ornstein. Artorias was clearly very upset about this. “Have you talked to him about this?”, she asked.

“I tried, but he didn't answer the door.”, Artorias said, slumping down a bit more. “I have brought him his favourite cookies as apology. This feels like the least I can do.”

“How often have you given Ornstein cookies now in what period of time?”, Ciaran asked. A part of her made a mental note to ask Ornstein for the leftover cookies later, she loved to eat sweet stuff and Artorias cookies were a special treat to her.

“Um, the first one right after the 'accident', then the next day after silver knight training and today after our patrol...”, Artorias counted on his fingers.

“That was a rhetorical question. Ornstein seemed mostly fine the last two days, have you said anything to him today that could have upset him so much?”, Ciaran wanted to know.

“Well, after our patrol was over and we were heading back to the cathedral, I was telling him that I hoped that he would get out of his shell today.”, Artorias explained. “I rarely see him talk to people besides us, the royals or the silver knights. I wanted to show him how beautiful it can be to make new acquaintances.” Artorias sighed once more. “But he only said to me that he did not want this and that I at least should have asked first. Then he already had been running away. And you know how impossible it is to catch up to him...”

Aha, there we had the problem. Artorias was a people person, Ornstein was not. Artorias just had a hard time to understand how appreciated solitude was by some people, he was the center of attention most of the time. He probably had thought that Ornstein had felt left out and wanted to introduce him more to his world.

“Artorias, I guess you only meant well.”, Ciaran started. “But Ornstein has a hard time talking to people. I once heard him say, that he first needs to know them better to not feel completely awkward in a conversation. He just prefers silence and solitude over meeting new people.”

“Hmmm.. when you say it like that... I guess I misunderstood him totally...”, Artorias hummed. He sighed once more. “I want to properly apologize to him, but he is probably already asleep. And I bet he wouldn't answer the door anyway.”

Ciaran laid a hand on Artorias shoulder or it was more that she tried to, her hand ended up slightly above his waist instead. “Just let him sleep over this and you should get some sleep too. Tomorrow you can talk your differences out.”

“Thanks, Ciaran.”, Artorias smiled at her. “But I want to stay here for a little while longer. I will go back to my room soon.”

He stared out into the night again and Ciaran withdrew from the balcony, continuing her stroll through the castle. As she reached the trophy room like they had started to call it, she nearly couldn't believe her eyes when she saw a familiar figure sitting there. The red curled hair falling down his back like an obscure waterfall of blood, only dressed in a night shirt with a lightning pattern on it. Ciaran came closer. She expected that Ornstein would draw something, but then she noticed his bandaged and splinted right arm in the sling and remembered that he would not be able to draw properly in this state. He was – however – looking at a cookie in his left hand.

“Alright. And what is you keeping up at night? Does your arm hurt?”, she asked.

Ornstein turned his head at the sound of her voice and then said: “Huh? Oh, it's you, Ciaran. No, that's not it. I mean, it of course still hurts, but it isn't what is keeping me up.” He fell into silence again and kept staring at the cookie.

Hmph, that was just typical. With Ornstein, you always had to pull every little word out of him. She pointed at the cookie: “Aren't you going to eat that?”

“Do you want it? I have a full plate of them anyway...”, Ornstein offered the cookie to her and she was pretty sure there was some unsaid sentence between them that Ornstein didn't want to say out aloud.

“Thanks.”, she said and took the cookie. She should approach him slowly. The way Artorias had talked about Ornstein earlier, he surely was feeling anxious. She sat down on the stairs beside him and enjoyed the cookie. “I like your night shirt.”, she said. “Even though it is unusual to see you in that attire outside of your room.”

With his left hand now unoccupied, Ornstein had laid his head in it. “It does take me so long to change with only one hand. It was just too much of a bother.”, he said.

Ciaran finished the cookie and surveyed Ornstein once more. “That is also the reason you don't have your hair tied up, I guess. Want me to give you a hand?” She stood up. Luckily, Ornstein was already sitting, so she wouldn't have trouble to reach.

“I don't have a hair band with me.”, he said.

“Don't worry, your hair is long enough to get it done without a hair band. I was used to dress the hair of my sister all the time. And my own, when it still had been long.” Ciaran had cut her hair the moment she had joined the assassins. The braided ponytail that she had added on her mask after becoming the leader was just a reminder of that. She walked behind Ornstein and took a look at his curls, that were long enough to lie on the floor.

“If you say so.”, Ornstein said, staying still. Ciaran took his hair, intending to knot it around itself to get the needed support for the ponytail, then quickly changed her mind. She let his hair fall back, but in a way, that it would hide her.

“Look, I can hide myself in your hair.”, she said with a smirk.

“Ciaran, stop playing around.”, Ornstein said but not without an amused tone in his voice. Her small size was often a source of jokes between the knights. She stepped out of his hair and proceeded to get that ponytail done.

“You know, who would have loved this? Artorias.”, she said. It was time to drop that fire bomb. She could feel how Ornstein got tense.

“Ciaran... I...,” he swallowed. “I have been really mean to Artorias today.”

Of course, Artorias was thinking he was at fault and Ornstein was thinking this too. She finished the pony tail and jumped a few steps down, so that she would stand in front of her friend.

“Do you want to talk about it?”, she asked. “What happened between you too?” Of course she left out that Artorias already had told her pretty much everything. That would just scare Ornstein away. And she wanted to know his point of view.

“Well, to be honest, it started yesterday.”, Ornstein started. “I lied to him. And I was feeling so bad about it. I tried to apologize to him, but he misunderstood and before I could clear it up, the master dragged me along.” He sighed. “Then I wanted to properly apologize to him on our patrol, but every time I tried there was something in the way. And in the end, I was getting mad at him. I just wanted to apologize to him, instead he apologized to me more than I could. I feel like I have made everything worse...”

“Why were you getting mad at him? Surely not because he apologized to you?”, Ciaran wanted to know.

Ornstein shook his head, which made his ponytail drag over the floor. “No, he wanted to get me out off my shell.”, he explained. “I felt really uncomfortable this day. Artorias knows so many people and can talk so easily to them. I just feel awkward when they talk to me. Also, Artorias was just casually talking about personal things that I rather would not have shared.”

Ciaran nodded. That sounded like Artorias. Speaking without thinking. It was just natural for him to share stories with others. She totally understood why this had upset Ornstein. “Have you told him that you rather didn't want this?”, she asked.

“Yes, but he did it again.”, Ornstein said with a gloomy look on his face.

“Have you also told him that it made you feel bad?”, Ciaran probed further.

“I guess... not?”, Ornstein asked more than said. “It was obvious at the end, but before that...”

“See, and that is your problem.”, Ciaran said. “You never say these things aloud. We all have to find out by ourselves what makes you feel uncomfortable. It would be so much easier if you would just be able to properly open your mouth and talk with us about this stuff.”

Ciaran could see how Ornstein visibly winced at her words. There was a moment of silence between them, then Ornstein raised his voice: “Ciaran, I really want to apologize to Artorias. I just don't know how I should approach him.” His gaze got gloomy again. “He is probably already asleep anyway.”

“I wouldn't be so sure of that. Earlier he was standing at the balcony, feeling miserable because of you. He just wanted to set things right, but you wouldn't answer the door. So, what do you say, wouldn't it be the right time to talk to him now?”

Ornstein looked at Ciaran, then at the floor, his eyes seemed to try to avoid her sharp gaze, even though it couldn't be seen under the mask. “That is so soon.”, he brought out. “I still don't know how I want to approach him...”

“Don't be such a coward!”, she said, closing her hands around his left arm and trying to drag him along. “You are fighting the most terrible dragons, but having a simple conversation is too much?” Ornstein didn't move an inch, so she gave up. “By the lord, you are heavy!”

She noticed a newfound determination in his gaze. Apparently he hadn't liked it to be called a coward at all. “You are right, I actively tried to avoid this.”, he said and stood up on his own. “Can you take me to Artorias, please? It is time he gets this apology that I owe him.”

“That's the spirit.”, Ciaran grinned and led the way. “Artorias is at that balcony not too far from here.”, she said. A few steps later she couldn't hear Ornstein's footsteps anymore and turned around to see him standing in one place, fidgeting with his ponytail.

“You aren't going to withdraw from this, are you?” Her voice sounded annoyed.

“I am just...nervous.”, Ornstein said. “What if he gets mad at me? He would have every right to...”

“By just standing here, you won't change anything.”, Ciaran said. “Come on now, just go to him and face it like the lion you are! Which lion is afraid of a wolf?”

“This one...”, Ornstein whispered.

Ciaran realized that this metaphor hadn't been the best. They of course had needed to find them out by themselves, but around dogs or dog like creatures, Ornstein had already been nervous. Turned out, that he had some bad experiences with dogs as a kid and still felt uneasy about it.

“Right, but this wolf is named Artorias. Do you really think someone like him can stay mad for long?”

Ornstein shook his head: “I guess not...”

“Then we should move. Or I tell Prince Gwynfor about this whole situation.”

She could see the shock in Ornstein's eyes at this threat. “You would really do that...?”, he asked, but then started walking again. While she led the way, she could hear how he whispered “All right, let's do this” under his breath. Chapter 16 -> https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/175476915709/title-duel-gone-wrong-chapter-16-fandom-dark

#dark souls #fanfiction #dragon slayer ornstein #artorias the abysswalker #lord's blade ciaran #littlewritesstuff #I was looking forward to post this chapter sometime now #enjoy

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