Chapter Text
He was very close with his father, but had barely known his other, feminine nature. Marika was close to a mystery for Miquella. He tried really hard to remember her face or her warmth, but the only memory coming to him was a blurred mess. It was almost as if the last time he had seen her was during his own birth, when he had breached out of her along with Malenia. Often he enquired his sister about their mother but only got vague answers. It was painfully obvious she also didn’t remember.
Thus womanhood remained a mystery to him. Malenia was not your typical girl either, showing interest mostly in swordsmanship, something Miquella didn’t particularly enjoy. He spent most of his time tucked away in the vast libraries his father roamed, studying along with him, not minding his weaker nature as his sister spent time outdoors training. Through reading, reciting, and coming up with his own incantations, he made use of his high intelligence and accumulated plenty of knowledge. There was always this part of him, though, that felt somewhat empty. Inept. A piece that was missing, something akin to more carnal and, alas, human.
Before his body had stopped growing, late at night, among the silken sheets of the bed too large for him, he would remove his nightgowns and undergarments. He’d lay completely under the sheets, and as they enveloped around him, he would feel safe. It was such a warm feeling that reached his core; total euphoria as he was tightly nestled inside of the soft and warm material that tickled and hugged his skin so perfectly. Instinctively he would lay on his side, his ankles to his chest, hugging and stroking his body in an attempt to soothe it. During the daylight he would dedicate every bit of free time he had to curing Malenia’s rot, but at nighttime the stress took a toll on him. The haven he created for himself made him forget all this and regress to the state of an unborn child. Inside his cocoon made out of bedding, he felt like he would finally grow to look more than ten years of age; that he would become smarter and stronger, to protect his sister and not be a burden; to impress his father with even more potent incantations; and possibly, to be allowed to meet his mother.
Marika… Mother…
Amidst his nest made of silk, he could almost feel enveloped by the warmth of his mother’s belly. Was that time truly the closest he had ever been to her? While looking at his father working with metal, his strong arms shone with vigor, and Miquella would desperately search for a piece of Marika in him. He couldn’t bring himself to ask.
And then, the tickling would turn into goosebumps all over his body. His small penis would stiffen, and become sensitive to the touch. He would squeeze his thighs, use his slender hands, or rub against the bed sheets feverishly. The dick would shudder and twitch with need, until he came, bucking his hips and letting out muffled moans. It was always a heated moment, as he felt the friction all over his most sensitive areas, like his perked nipples. Inside that cramped space he found solace and felt human in secret. He’d fall into a deep, calm sleep after that.
Other times, in front of the golden mirror in his chambers, he would examine his form. Miquella ran his hands through his body, grazing them through his nipples. They were tiny, almost unnoticeable, and pale like the rest of his body. His fingers would then reach his stomach. Soft and concave, whenever he touched it, he would feel a certain warmth from somewhere within his organs. He’d trace small circles around his abdomen, reaching his bellybutton, teasing it a little.
This is where I was conjoined with her…
He imagined his stomach bigger, full of life, like the bellies of the women he would see in the anatomy books. The female body sparked a ton of curiosity for Miquella; the breasts that seemed soft and bouncy to the touch, and the opening of life between their legs. As he rubbed his stomach, he would notice his dick getting hard, and begin to play with himself. However in his head, he would be thinking of himself in a female body.
One time, his father walked inside the bedroom uninvited, and caught Miquella in the act. Nude and pleasuring himself in secret in front of the mirror. Nudity was nothing strange; Gods and Demi-gods, after all, did not succumb to such pleasures as Men did. Radagon formed a small smile on his face.
“So you are at this age, Miquella. Had you not been in this unfortunate body, we would have begun to search for a consort for you.”
“Father…”
“Should you find these desires unbearable, please speak with me, and I will arrange something for you.”
“Yes, father.”
He couldn’t bring himself to voice his concerns to Radagon. It was something he preferred to keep secret, and thus, safe from prying eyes. His needs were increasing, though, and the times he spent thinking about the female body, and his belly engorged were getting more frequent.
And then, one night, he had a strange vision. From the darkness, a face emerged. A kind, androgynous face with long hair twirling around it. He got dragged into the spirals the hair formed, and lilies sprouted from his body until he disintegrated into thin air. He jumped up gasping, only to find out he was safe in his chambers. The moonlight creeped into the room from the windows; he had forgotten to shut them, and the thin summer air was making the curtains dance.
Miquella got up. Completely nude, from his cocoon ceremony, he reached the window. The moon was hidden from the gentle and warm light of the Erdtree. A light that brought life and blessings to the land, yes, but to him it was blinding, made him feel puny. A light that brought inequalities and pain in the Lands Between. He suddenly felt the need to pray, so he placed his hand in his chest, and stopped in his tracks.
Looking down, he noticed his chest was different. It seemed fuller and softer… almost like a woman’s. He grabbed it, inspecting it. Is this some sort of hex? he immediately thought. He grabbed both his nipples and pulled at them, shuddering. It felt good. And then, as he went to move, he noticed his penis was missing. Between his legs was a tiny, hairless vulva. Confused and excited at the same time, he grabbed a small mirror and checked it out. He spread his legs, tugged at his clitoris and carressed the wet hole. It felt soft and velvety. Before he had the chance to sit down and think what caused all this or what was happening, he was pounding a phallus he had carved, deep inside him. His pussy got stretched but felt excited to be full. He rode the fake dick until he reached a shaking orgasm.
And then he knew one thing; he wished to get pregnant. That dark desire overshadowed what had happened to him; his body had indeed changed gender, and along with that came new enlightenment. As he was laying amongst the messed-up sheets, trying to catch his breath while his heart threatened to jump out of his chest, a sudden idea came to his head. He jumped out of bed, put on some clothes, and went to his workshop. A vision of a certain arrow had come to him.