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Marika’s tits… he hated that dress.
Oh the dress looked wonderful on Fyra, but Gideon hated that it was a dress worn by women who laid with corpses. Why a dress so alluring was used for such a dismal purpose always came back to him once his lusts were sated.
And oh it made his old bones lustful. It clung to her skin like the carved fabrics in the finest marble statues of the capital, showing every curve and feature of her body. When she stood, and walked, it was not so noticeable, the garment was made to drape in a way that made the wearer decent to the eye when they stood.
But the moment she sat down, or layed back… Well, nothing was left to his imagination.
He would intentionally ruin it, but it was Fyra’s favorite dress. So very beautiful and womanly and so very different then the other dresses she had seen. And of course… he very much liked it.
He would have to replace it then, Yes… That would be a fine, wonderful gift.
He stood in the kitchens over the barrel of fresh water, ladle in hand as he sipped on it. Fyra and Roderika were out in the dining hall, talking and giggling. Roderika was uncharacteristically loud, probably very comfortable in Fyra’s presence, but as always, Fyra spoke in a quiet way.
“Oh they very much like you.” Roderika said.
“Oh, truely?”
“Of course. Give them a pet, will you? When you next summon them. They will like It, I would think.”
“I will try… Now, what does Oleg think of me?”
“Hmmm. Oleg thinks of you as his lady and lord… He’ll follow you right to the Erdtree, and beyond if he was able.”
It seemed they were talking about the ashes that Fyra had collected and used. However the way they sounded they might have been gossiping. He put the ladle back over the side of the barrel, and stepped out into the dinning hall.
Roderika was leaning in close to Fyra, giggling. “He also thinks you are quite-”
Gideon cleared his throat.
Both women looked up at him. Roderika went pink in embarrassment, but Fyra smiled at him, tilting her head curiously.
“I won’t keep your conversation held up long.” He said, “But Fyra, I have a question for you… What is your favorite color?”
Fyra gave an exaggerated gesture to indicate she was thinking, finger on her chin and eyes looking up. She looked back down at him then, smiling. “Blue.”
“Hmmm. I see. Carry on whatever silly gossip you were speaking of, Roderika.”
The girl went even pinker, and he left. However, no sooner than he was out the door that Roderika was speaking again.
“Well… I’ve not known Sir Gideon long but I can tell that’s not a question he asks often. I bet he doesn’t even know what Neph’s favorite color is. You have him right in your pocket, don’t you?”
Fyra snickered, and Gideon huffed. His foster daughter liked yellow, not that his knowing it was important. Nepheli didn’t wear anything fancy on her person, so there was no point in giving her anything yellow.
Well, he had her preferred color. Now he just needed the fabric. And to get anything close to the quality of the deathbed dress, he would need to find a weaver who was far more skilled than some old woman living in a dying village.
He would need to go to Leyndell.
Weaving had become a bit of a difficult craft to find since the shattering. Leyndell was the only place that still functioned somewhat normally, though the plague that had run through the city didn’t help.
Gideon held the sample of fabric in his bare hands. It was white at the moment, but would be dyed in time, if it was the fabric he desired. It was thin, and indeed, it draped well, but it was not the same as what the deathbed gown was made from as the fabric was not of the lands between… it would be a suitable replicant regardless.
He eyed his contact from Leyendel, a Tarnished man who had lost his eyes, thereby bypassing the tell-tale glow of grace normal folk had.
“This seems adequate… The price for five yards?”
“... Tis a lot, Sir.. I would reckon… Ten thousand runes, and for it to be dyed blue…. Nother five.”
That was indeed steep. “Hmph… Get this in white and blue. Five yards of the blue, two for the white.”
“Any particular reason you want something like this sir? Doesn't seem very… Your style.”
“It is for a gift.”
The man made a face. “..... A gift?”
Gideon grumbled. “Is it so bizarre that I would give a gift? Do I not gift you things when you perform well?”
“Er… Well yeah. ‘Spose so.”
“Think before you speak next time. I have no patience for idiots.”
Gideon gave the man the runes needed, and then some on top for him so he would not be tempted to be a thief.
Now Gideon needed her measurements. He could not ask her, but he could figure it out on his own.
Gideon had an impeccable memory. While his body was starting to fail him in his age, his mind remained sharp, keeping every bit of information in perfect detail within his head. And while visual memories were not as well kept, he could keep them in his head long enough to put them to writing.
His idea was simple: use his eyes and hands to measure her. Easy enough to do, as she was always so keen to fuck him. Fyra was young and lusty, so much so Gideon could scarcely keep up with her.
He sent for her to come to him, and in the meantime he set about cleaning and grooming himself, using a cloth and soap to scrub his skin clean, and a shallow bowl of water to wash his hair. He liked to be clean and well groomed, even if he was often hidden away behind his armor. It was more a matter of personal comfort, than appearances.
She arrived just as he finished shaving his face. She bit her lip looking at his naked form, and she coyly played with her fingers. It still flabbergasted him that she found him attractive when there were others in the hold that were more fit, younger, and overall more pleasant.
He supposed he was good looking for his age. Dolores had said he was a “handsome old git” plenty of times.
“Ah. You’ve come earlier than I expected… Well then, sit. The water is still warm, I will sponge you clean.” A fib, he fully expected her to come as soon as she could.
Fyra shed her armor and clothing below it, sitting herself down on the stool. She looked so eager to be pampered, and Gideon just marveled at her. Her dusky olive skin, her grecian nose, full lips, and chocolate colored hair…. She was beautiful. He was quite eager to get his hands on her for more than just measuring her.
He started, legitimately washing her at first, scrubbing her back and arms, then moving to her legs. Feeling amorous, he kissed her shins as he lifted them to scrub, and Fyra beamed at him, her green eyes almost shimmering.
He had to admit, he was not very affectionate most days, he had to be in a mood to give her the affection she clearly craved and needed, but he tried. He very much tried.
Gideon then moved back up to her torso, kneeling behind her as he began washing her front. It was then he started measuring her, and equal parts groping.
His hands slid under her breasts, kissing her shoulder as he took note of how many of his hands it took to fully encircle the widest point of her rib cage. Once satisfied, he slid his hands up, squeezing her perky tits in his hands, fingers twisting the tips of them gently, pinching them until they got stiff. Fyra moaned softly, moving her head to the side, an invitation for Gideon to kiss at her neck.
He did so, eagerly sucking on her skin until it left a dusky red mark that would later become a bruise.
He continued finally, measuring her torso with her breasts this time. If the dress was to fit the same as before, it would need to lay and drape off of the slope of her breasts.
One measurement of where her arms met her shoulders later, he went back to washing her, still kissing and sucking on her neck. Fyra was squirming on the stool, legs rubbing together and letting out little sounds. She was very aroused, and he was as well, sporting an erection.
“Very touchy today.” she said quietly, and Gideon hummed.
“Just wanted to feel you… Got tired of touching you with those gloves on.” Gideon said, breathing on her ear and making her shudder, “You make me feel twenty years younger, sometimes. If only my body could keep up with that.”
He rinsed the cloth off, using it to wipe away the soap suds. His other hand meanwhile slid down to her thighs, grabbing them and feeling how soft and squishy they were, and when they flexed, he could feel that the squish was all relaxed muscles.
When his hand slid up, her thighs instantly parted for him. His hand slid the rest of the way up, burring between her thighs, feeling how hot she was, and wet.
“Well, this isn't water I’m feeling.”
She made a high pitched sound of confirmation, biting her lip.
His knees and back were sore from his crouching from bathing her, in addition to his long day pouring over maps and books. Even when planning a gift, he was collecting knowledge. Regrettably that meant he wasn’t going to be able to properly bed her how she usually wanted, but there were other ways.
He took the cloth and began to wash her between her legs, using soap on her pubic hair. Fyra made a huff, and from the corner of his eye he saw her pout.
“I’m going to do you better than finger you, girl. So don’t make a fuss.”
He was not very good at what he had planned, but he was a fast learner and always made her happy in the end.
“Going to be flossing your teeth, eh?” she said snickering. And Gideon pinched her side at her crudeness.
“None of that. Should I wash your mouth out too?” He teased her.
“Depends on what you use to wash it out.”
He slapped the washcloth down into the bucket. “That's it… On the bed with you if you insist on it.”
Fyra did so, quickly getting onto his bed and flopping onto it with a giggle, arms held out and open to him. Gideon joined her, the two of them kissing. Her mouth tasted like a malted beer, probably from the kitchens. It was pleasant even if beer wasn’t something he often enjoyed.
He refreshed his memory a little, feeling again and measuring her chest, even her neck, his hand wrapping around it loosely just a moment. Fyra then got a little pushy. She could be a very forceful woman, getting what she wanted.
What she wanted was him on his back.
“You worked pretty hard today, doing all that reading.” Fyra cooed, “So you lay back, and rest your neck and everything else.”
“How kind of you.” Gideon grumbled, “Just don’t smother me.”
She laughed at him.
Once he had a pillow under his head, Fyra got on top of him. He wrapped his arms under her thighs, hands grabbing her lower back as he began, pressing soft kisses upon her swollen and aroused clit as she did the same to the head of his cock.
He was slow to start, soft open mouth kisses and gentle sucking, his hands running along her back before they settled on grabbing her ass. His mouth opened, and he gave a long slow lick, using the whole of his lips to start caressing her vulva and clit.
Fyra moaned, her mouth full of him as she slowly bobbed her head, tongue and lips focussing on the glands of his cock while one of her hands pumped him. God it felt so good. He couldn't help but groan himself.
He put a little more pressure, moved his tongue a little faster, pulling her hips closer to him. She smelled like soap and something muskier, but not foul. He liked it, and how it tasted too.
He felt her thighs tremble on either side of his head. She must have been very worked up from the bath to be this close already. He put more pressure in his licking, moving his tongue side to side in addition, humming to tease her even closer.
She squeaked, and took the whole of him in her mouth, tongue and the back of her throat working him as she bobbed her head a bit more aggressively. It was so aggressive and sudden that Gideon came, grunting as he dug his fingers into her skin.
Her thighs shook on either side of his head as he resumed his ministrations after a few seconds of pause, and there was the vague motion of her grinding her hips against his face. With a few more swipes of his tongue, she came. Shaking and gasping as she nuzzled his softening cock against her cheek.
Gideon gave her ass a slap, and Fyra rolled off him, giggling as he wiped his face off. She moved to kiss him, but he put his hand over her mouth. “Rinse your mouth out.”
She rolled her eyes, but did as he requested, fetching water for the both of them. She sat on the edge of the bed, swishing water in her mouth as he did the same.
He ran his hand up her back as she sat on the edge of the bed, he ran his fingers over a long scar that was there now. It was a new one. Must have been a fatal wound, those often scarred even with the grace’s help. He then dragged his hand down firmly, feeling her spine, for no other reason then he could.
Fyra sighed deeply, turning to him and smiling sweetly at him. She tilted her head at him, grinning, asking him why he was so handsy this day. Gideon did not reply to her, having no intention of letting her know his plans. He only pinched her side, making her break out into her loud girlish giggles.
She flopped back onto the bed, stretching before she rolled over, her fingers skating through his chest hair as she kissed his shoulder. “You should get naked more often.”
Gideon grunted. “You like the armor I think.”
She hummed in acknowledgement, taking his face in her hands and kissing him deeply before settling in the crook of his arm.
Gideon took up some note paper he kept on his bedside so he could scrawl out his thoughts on various bits of information, and he began calculating everything. He would need a seamster now. Would he go to Leyndell again?
He didn’t feel like spending more, honestly. Making the dress would cost at least another twenty thousand runes, but there was a chance he would be charged even more as the craft of sewing was, like weaving, harder to come by. Everyone was an armorer or a blacksmith now, because war was all anyone was doing.
Of course he could go after an old woman in a village and make her do it… No… Fyra would not like it if he ‘bullied’ someone to make it. He eyed her for a moment, remembering her mentioning having a seamster of her own… A little Demi-Human.
“Do you still have that little demi-human around?” He asked.
Fyra hummed affirmative.
“May I make use of him? The hem of my cloak is getting a bit threadbare.”
Fyra nodded, yawning. “Be nice to him. He’s very… Timid. And you can be rather mean.”
In the morning she lead him to the Altus Plateau where Boc, as he was named, resided. Gideon leaned on his scepter as she fetched the little creature from where he was making his home.
“Gideon, this is Boc. And Boc, this is Sir Gideon Ofnir-”
“The All-Knowing… Though Sir will do fine.” Gideon said, the last part added at the slight look of annoyance on Fyra’s face.
“G-Good to meet you, sir. Miss Fyra says lots bout you.” Boc took off his hat and bowed his head a moment, before putting it back on, low over his face to hide his eyes.
“And she says much about you….” He eyed Fyra as she wandered off, seemingly distracted by the need, or maybe remembering, to pick herbs that she had spotted, “Good things.”
“Oh… Oh of course she would. Erm… May I take a gander at your cloak, sir?”
Gideon untied the neck of his cloak, then undid his tassets a moment to fully remove it. He folded it up, and pointed to where it dragged upon the ground. “This is the problem area,”
“Yessir, let me have a look all over though…” Boc began his careful examination, “Looks like moths have been at it…”
“Probably nibbled on while I was dead and buried in it.” Gideon said offhandedly as he sat on a nearby rock,
Boc looked up at him. “Oh… Er… Yes. Probably so, sir. My, how lucky you are… To no longer be dead…” He drifted off awkwardly, fumbling still with the fabric as he looked it over.
Boc began reattaching the golden lace trim to Gideon’s cloak, and Gideon leaned in. “I wish to be frank, the need I have for you is greater than just mending my cloak.”
Boc looked up at him from below the brim of his silly little hat. “A-And what might that be, sir?”
“I want you to make Fyra a dress. Like the deathbed one she has, but with the fabric I have acquired.”
Boc’s eyes darted away and he flinched as he missewed, pricking his finger. “I-I am sorry sir. I Don't know how to make any dresses from scratch.”
Gideon frowned deeply in the darkness of his helmet. “You claim to be her seamster and yet you can’t even make a dress?”
“I-I only managed to learn alterin’ from me mum, sir. I-I don't think I could really-”
“And you have the things of a royal seamster too. She gave you that, right?” Gideon leaned in more, putting his skills at manipulation to work. “She speaks so highly of you. Says your work is the best she has ever seen. Are you saying she was lying to me?”
Boc stopped sewing and looked up at him. “No sir! Miss Fyra would never lie. Not ever! ‘Specially not to you, sir.”
“Then prove her words, and make the dress.”
Boc looked down again, his odd ape-like face contorted into something that almost looked like anxiety. “I-I will try sir… I will need that dress…. To look over and copy.”
“Done. I even have her measurements for you.” he took out the parchment he had written them on, but then took it back, “Can you read?”
“I-I can read measurements sir… Nothin else though.” Boc held out his hand, and Gideon set the paper in it. Boc paused in his sewing long enough to read it over, and he nodded a few times, “.... Yessir I’m able to read this fine. Don’t you worry.”
Figured the little creature could not read. Gideon glanced down at the work Boc had been doing… Straight stitches with even spacing. The little demi-human had no spine and thus no confidence in himself, which in turn made him blind to his own skill.
“Good work.” Gideon praised stiffly, remembering Fyra’s request for him to be nice, and Boc’s lips curled slightly, and he resumed his stitching.
“I-I recon, it will need to be a secret, yes?” Boc finally asked as he finished repairing Gideon’s cloak.
“Yes. I will have someone fetch it when it is finished.” He tilted his head at the seamster, “You can keep a secret, yes?”
“Yessir.”
Gideon discreetly handed the fabric over to Boc, who squirreled it away. Gideon got back up on his feet, putting his cloak back on, glancing as Fyra returned, her gauntlets smeared with dirt from her foraging.
“Farming I see.” He teased, getting his tassets back in order. She grinned at him.
When they returned, Gideon was sure to ‘borrow’ the original dress, and that went out to Boc too. Fyra of course went nuts looking for it, tearing up her storage chest trying to find it, eventually crying over it. Gideon feigned ignorance, and even helped look for it.
He only felt slightly bad.
In three weeks, the dress was finished. Gideon got it himself, and then stealthily returned the original to her chest-of-drawers, though he was sure to bury it a little so she could not find it right away.
He folded the new dress up, and set it on the corner of his desk. From a glance, it looked adequate. Maybe the seams were a little crooked in some places, but he doubted it would really hurt anything, given the dress was not form fitting at all.
Fyra returned to the hold two days later. She had new information to share, and looked a bit downtrodden, which was fairly common these days for her. She instantly took note of the blue dress on his desk, and tilted her head, eyes darting to him quizzically.
“Oh that? It’s for you.” Gideon said offhandedly, “A replacement for the one you lost. Go on, have a look.”
Fyra’s face brightened up, and she took it in hand, unfolding it and holding it out. She smiled at him, beaming with delight. “It’s blue.”
“Indeed.” Gideon said, standing up straight, “Same as that dingy ribbon in your hair.”
Fyra side eyed him as she tossed it on the table again, and he watched as she started stripping her armor off, stripping until she was completely bare, then she pulled it on. She smoothed it out, then twirled in place a few times.
It was perfect.
“Your seamster made it.” Gideon said, knowing she would be pleased to learn that.
“Oh, I knew Boc had it in him to make clothes.” Fyra started dancing in place, tossing the hem around her legs, “I’ll have to thank him and get him a gift.”
She looked so very happy, and Gideon was very pleased with himself. He watched as she left, off to show it to Nepheli, Fia, and Roderika, and Gideon went back to his reading.
An hour or so later, he heard his doors close, and he looked up. Fyra was leaning back against them, smirking. “I should give you a gift too.”
“Oh really?” He watched as she walked up to, and around his table. He stood up, and stepped back as she settled herself between him and the parchment he had been reading intently.
She sat herself right on the edge of his desk, lifting it up to show her thighs and dark curls of pubic hair. Though the fabric was not as thin, he could still see the outline of her form well enough. It was just as sexy as the deathgown, but it suited her so much better, with the blue looking so good on her olive skin.
“Let’s give it a test run.”
Gideon instantly got hard, driven to lust like he was a rowdy twenty something youth. His hands were on her, and her hands were at his tassets, unhooking them so they clunked to the floor, letting her get her hands on his trousers.
He pressed his forehead to hers, the metal of his helmet leaving a red mark as usual, his other hand grabbing the back of her neck to hold her there. “You little minx. You’re going to kill me one day.”
“Dying balls deep in a girl sounds fun.”
He moved his hand, shoving his thumb in her mouth. “Enough of that talk. A potential Elden Lord should not be so crude.” he scolded, dragging her hips to the edge of the desk, thrusting inside of her.
She clutched his shoulders, panting and squeaking with every thrust, grinning like a fool as she nuzzled his helmet. “Such a good gift.” she moaned quietly around his thumb.
“Mhm.” Gideon said absentmindedly, not really caring to think of anything else but the cunt around his cock. His head moved, and he rested the face of his helmet in the crook of her neck, panting hard on her skin, while his hands moved to grip her hips bruisingly tight, pulling her closer to him as he thrust.
Her hands dragged up and down his back, twisting and tugging on his cloak. “Good… Did good-ah!” Fyra keened, an arm leaving his back to go between them, fingers vigorously rubbing her clit.
It was quick and dirty, Gideon sparing her no thought, only thinking of himself, not that Fyra seemed to care. She seemed perfectly content for him to rut her mindlessly, giving her his seed. He held her close, grinding against her as he filled her up. He panted, trying to catch his breath, feeling as Fyra kept rubbing herself, her own hips twitching along her with cunt around him as she got herself closer.
Feeling her clench and change shape around him as she prepared to cum was a unique feeling. A feeling that became pleasant as she came with a soft moan, nuzzling the side of his helmet as she slowly worked herself down.
“You like your gift?” Fyra asked smuggly.
He pulled out, bonking his helmeted head lightly against hers. “It was… Most satisfactory.”
“Oh good.” Fyra said lightly. She kissed the nose guard of his helmet, “I am going to love wearing this dress.”
Gideon groaned, exasperated. “I will die.” he said tiredly.