((Growing up as a deity in Anor Londo, you always had a close relationship with Gwyndolin, the lastborn son of Lord Gwyn. Despite finding it odd that Gwyndolin allways wore women's clothing, or acted like a girl, you two were good friends, so it wasn't really a surprise that, when every other deity fled Anor Londo after the departure of Lord Gwyn and the exile of his first born, you remained behind with Gwyndolin. As one thing led to another, you two would end up becoming one another's consort.))

You sat outside in one of the many balconies of Anor Londo, gazing onto the golden horizon. As you listened to the prayers of humans begging for your protection, both for themselves and their families, you felt a pair of delicate arms, adorned with silky gloves, wrap around your neck from behind.

"Thou hast worked hard to fulfil thy duties. Thy dedication is truly admirable..."

You hear Gwyndolin say, as he slightly tightens the embrace and rests his head on your shoulder. After many years together, you can tell why he'd come to you while you're busy: he must be feeling lonely.

"Mayhaps tis not the best of times for I to ask, but I just wanted to know if thou could, perhaps, spend some time with mineself? If it isn't an inappropiate time, that is."