Sooo... I've been on a bit of a soulslike streak lately. I blame Elden Ring. But either way, here's a story featuring Yoel of Londor from Dark Souls 3, in a timid dommy macro role! Nobody asked for this, I'm fairly certain nobody wanted this, but here it is anyway. Cuz he's a sweet lad and I appreciate him.

You can also entirely blame  CommanderLeifN7 for this, he's the one replaying Dark Souls 3 and I'm the one watching him, sighing wistfully at every character I'm horny for.

________________________________________________
Lord of Pilgrims

At this point Markus was certain he had some sort of penchant for attracting all kinds of curses to his person. And while none of them were ones that truly stuck around for long, some were… more debilitating than others.

Such was one that had him desperately traversing the looming, ashen hallways of Firelink Shrine; standing now at a little more than an inch tall and looking for someone he might call upon for help. Tiny limbs, carrying a tiny body over what seemed like entire deserts of ash, punctuated by the barely surmountable steps, gaps and ledges he had the misfortune of having to climb over. At least the long trek gave him enough time to ponder who might be able to help.

His options were rather limited, he didn’t trust most of these people, definitely not with his life. Cornyx made him a little uneasy; the repeated thudding of Andre’s hammer and the rain of sparks that crashed down along with it, left that option out of the question; Eygon might well crush him underfoot for the crime of existing – Markus wouldn’t put it past him; and Greirat… Greirat was nice but… by the time Markus had reached the spot where the charming little thief resided, his mind was already set on another individual.

Yoel of Londor, a pilgrim the young unkindled had encountered at the foot of the High Wall of Lothric. While his demeanor was somewhat suspicious, Yoel seemed genuine in his utter reverence of the ‘Champion of Ash’ – as he called Markus. Besides, he likely knew a thing or two about curses, and even if not, he would at least help the little guy get around.

Markus’ journey lead him down the stairs and past Greirat, into the tunnel off to the side, filled with a shallow layer of water. The young man gulped, This wouldn’t normally be an issue, but given his stature, the small puddle may as well have been a great swamp. Still, down the hall, far in the distance, the hunched figure of the pilgrim towered high overhead – a beacon of hope, a solid objective to work towards. And if nothing else, Markus had gotten pretty good at working towards a set goal.

Though the road proved somewhat less treacherous than Markus’ normal outings – no undead or monsters to impede his progress, and a pool of water was a lot easier to manage than a poisonous swamp. And so little by little, cobblestone to cobblestone, the tiny thing hopped along – all in clear view of the shriveled, cloaked husk of a man who wouldn’t even think to look so far down in search of his little lord.

Now standing just a few cobblestones away from the man himself, Markus found himself shuddering a bit as he craned his neck up. Standing there in Yoel’s shadow was a decidedly different experience than looking at him face-to-face. The loose ends of the dark fabric wrapped around him, the huge staff, guiding the gaze up towards the feeble hands which were fit to crush Markus to a pulp now… It left the tiny unkindled one with a lot of confused feelings as to which one of them should be bowing before the other as lord.

Markus gulped, thinking how better to approach making contact here, until his gaze finally settled on the only spot on Yoel’s body he could realistically reach – the pilgrim’s bare feet. Still, the sight was imposing, huge toes, each standing almost as high as Markus was tall, each shifting slightly – motions Yoel probably wasn’t even conscious of. It was a little bit upsetting to think that this was Markus’ best option, but even so, he made the final few hops to his destination.

But just as was about to give the gigantic foot a pat, he felt a strong thwack against his armored chest and found himself rolling along the cobbles a good distance away – in a swinging motion, Yoel’s foot sailed forth just enough to send the unkindled one flying. In reality, it was little more than a half-step to adjust his stance, yet the peculiar feeling of a small object did cause the looming pilgrim to direct his attention to the ground, wondering what it was that his foot had just brushed against.

The arching, crane-like neck of the giant would shift down, the void in the center of the fabric perusing for the culprit behind the little disturbance. Only to eventually settle upon a crumpled heap of Markus down below.

"Curious figure of diminutive stature…" His slightly strained would state idly, the head zooming closer with an audible *shwoooooom*. Looming over the puny thing now, Yoel’s frame would soon shudder with recognition. “M-my lord?!” he would gasp, shrinking back a little in shame, as Markus slowly picked himself up into a sitting position. “What foul fate has befallen thee?”

*THWACK*

Carefully, or at least as carefully as he could, Yoel would reach his staff forward, jutting it into the ground beside Markus, holding it firm for his little lord to lean onto. “I beg thy forgiveness, oh Champion of Ash. I… never would have suspected to find thee in such a state.”

Coughing a little, Markus lifted himself up all the way, leaning a little bit on the huge pillar of Yoel’s staff beside him.

“Art thou well, my lord? Dost thou desire a drop of estus, perhaps?” He asked, awkwardly searching through his robes with one hand to recover a small flask, filled with a warm yellow liquid. He hesitated but a moment before tipping it over Markus, dousing the little guy in a veritable shower of the stuff.

Markus barely had the time to react as the downpour knocked him off his feet again, forcing him to the ground and yet bringing with it a sense of relief – the pain in his chest fading, as Yoel gasped and sputtered, recoiling in shame once more.

"M-my sincerest apologies, master!"

But the little unkindled, getting to speak up for the first time, just chuckles and shakes his head. “It’s… It’s alright!” He assures with a smile, standing up and fixing his gaze on the timid titan. “The estus was a good call, Yoel.”

The looming pilgrim visibly exhaled with relief. “Ah, Champion of Ash, you are too kind.”

“I’m just glad you noticed me, big guy.” Markus sighed, taking a few steps closer and wrapping his arms around one of Yoel’s toes in a warm hug. “Could you help me out?”

“O-of c-course!” The pilgrim stammered a bit, shuddering at the touch, not sure what to make of his lord prostrating himself before him like this. “How may I be of assistance?”

And for a long moment, Markus stood there in silence, cheek pressed against the giant’s toenail, hand idly caressing the side of the digit. “I… I was…” Truthfully, Markus wanted help in undoing this curse of his, perhaps a purging stone would do the trick, surely Yoel would lend him one but… There was something else. As Markus stood there – at a fraction of his real height – embracing Yoel’s toe as he was, that same sense of reverence from before returned. And as he looked up with a smile, looking directly at Yoel, his lips uttered something else. “May I worship you for a bit?”

The Pilgrim’s entire form rocks a bit at those words, he recovers quickly though, cocking his head down at the tiny unkindled one. "...Master Markus?"

“I mean… Given my stature and how easily you knocked me back I just… I want to offer you a fraction of reverence you’ve given me. Give you a chance to-“

“My lord, I c-could never! Such things are-“

“Please, Yoel. Think… Think nothing of my role, I will return to it in due time but… Please allow your foolish reduced lord to indulge himself.”

Yoel was taken aback by this, moving his foot away from the little champion, placing the toes of one atop the other as he fiddled with his hands awkwardly. “I am… Still unsure this is allowed for one such as I. But if such is thy desire, my lord, I would be pleased to obey. Would thou… grant me the freedom to choose my next words and actions?”

“Of course! That’s… That is the point, is it not?” The little thing chuckled again. “Do as you please Yoel, I promise I won’t hold any of it against you.”

"I... hmm..." Yoel stammered for just another moment, before straightening his back up with a firm crack. “Very well then, my lord. Since our roles are temporarily reversed, allow me to…” His foot suddenly reached forward, poking his little lord and knocking him over, big toe resting atop the dented chestplate. "As a pilgrim I have ventured far from Londor.” He accented his words with a resounding clack of his staff. “A long and arduous journey that has left my…” He stammered again, the confused condifence wavering a little. “…my feet are in need of service. Thou shall clean them for me.” His foot shifted forward, over Markus, tightening around the puny form as it dribbled with water.

Markus could hear the straining metal, his armor flexing and bending, unable to bear the weight, but stopping just short of actually breaking it. “Master Yoel…” The tiny champion would call up. “It is an honor for a lowly creature like me to find myself beneath your tread. I too have ventured far for this chance to stand before you, a pilgrimage from the great Bonfire of Firelink Shrine. Yet a journey I will gladly undertake a thousand times to find myself in your presence… to find myself able to serve you.”

Yoel pondered a moment on those words, pausing as he stared down at the puny figure beneath his foot. “Then, perhaps, unkindled one, thou shalt prove thy dedication by making this journey once more?”

Markus was about to ask what Yoel meant exactly, when the pressure on his chest intensified tenfold. The pale sole lifting up into the air for a but a moment before crashing down with enough force to shatter the young man’s armor and body alike.

Yoel shivered a little as his ankle shifted, grinding what little remained of his little lord into the floor. He exhaling slightly, both exhilarated at the attention he had been given and a little relieved to have some time to collect himself. He knew his lord would return soon, though not too soon; it was quite a walk for someone so small, after all. So in the meantime he allowed himself a small chuckle, dipping his foot into the nearby puddle and washing away the ashes from the small, destroyed body with a few a few quick motions. “This death shall make for fine nourishment for the dark sign.” He mumbled to himself, pleased that this too would advance his lord on the road to true greatness.

---

And sure enough, eventually Yoel spotted the little figure, hopping cobblestone to cobblestone, eager and agile, yet making less progress than even Yoel could have in a mere few steps. It was a somewhat endearing sigh, yet – knowing he was in sight once more – the pilgrim straightened his back once more, holding his staff less like a walking stick and more like royal regalia. He held his pose patiently as the tiny Champion of Ash made it closer until, eventually, he saw the little thing bowing before him.

“Oh, Yoel, Lord of Pilgrims.” The tiny man spoke, making the looming titan freeze up again for a moment. “I stand before you once more, humbly presenting myself before you at another journey’s end.” He continued, getting closer and closer with every word. “Oh, great Lord of Pilgrims, please grant me the honor of servicing your weary soles, there can be no greater joy for one such as I.”

Yoel gave a hearty, legitimately happy chuckle at that, relaxing just a little as he directed his gaze towards the puny creature at his feet. “Very well, unkindled one, thou hast proven thy dedication, proceed as thou wishest. Offer thy meager worship to my weary soles.” He said, moving his foot forward and once again setting it neatly over little Markus.

It was still a strange feeling, treading upon his lord and master like this, yet a feeling Yoel found he enjoyed quite a bit. As did the small man, it seemed, given the sensation of a tiny tongue lapping against the underside of his big toe.

With another chuckle Yoel pressed that toe a little harder on Markus’ head, smooshing it gently against the stone floor. Amusingly, this seemed to not stall the little thing’s fervor in the slightest, Markus kept on lapping away at any spot of the weathered foot he was presented with, scooping up dust, dirt, even bits of ash his very own body left behind in the wrinkles of Yoel’s sole.

It was a calming sensation, one that the old pilgrim was able to appreciate. But even so, on occasion he would allow his idle whim to dictate his actions, rolling the little thing underfoot, forcing it down under the surface of the puddle nearby, watching the limbs flailing as tiny bubbles tickled against his foot, squishing it from time to time… An occasional harmful injury, like a bruised chest or a shattered limb would sneak in, though nothing a swig of estus couldn’t heal. His little champion was the tough sort, after all.

Once Markus had finally finished cleaning one foot, Yoel would happily present the other. “Go ahead, little one. Let it be known that thy effort shall not be forgotten.” He said, a warm smile curling his lips, deep under the cloth wrappings. “And for thy faithful service I will grant thee my assistance in restoring your true height.” With a warm laugh, he slid his toe along the little hollow’s form, petting lovingly along it. “Can’t have our Champion of Ash, dithering about after all, can we? Hah hah hah…”