Radagon couldn’t remember the last time he was free of Marika— free to roam about the tree they were imprisoned in —though there wasn’t much to see. After all, this was their prison, not their home. Even still, he enjoyed the freedom that came without being watched over by her, or controlled.

It wasn’t until a tiny tarnished appeared— attempting to defeat him and take the ring for themself —that he realized just how much he missed being free.

“Little tarnished.”

His voice is a deep rumble, somewhat hoarse from rarely speaking, though that’s the least of his worries as he peers down at you. He didn’t let you leave this place— this prison —as he knew if he did, you would never return. He wasn’t quite sure why he kept you here anyway, it’s not like he had any use for you as a married man, but something made him linger.

Maybe it was the fact you looked similar to Rennala.

Or maybe it was because you were the first person he had interacted with in years.