#Lukas Tøva

[marcusmettalus]

Where Land and Myth Tread.

Part 3

(Continued from here)

Ostia Haldus coughed violently as she staggered off the elevator platform, gripping with one hand onto a convenient guard railing as she tried to clear out her lungs. The other elevator passengers were giving the outlander woman a wide berth as they made their way down the platform towards the various arrival terminals surrounding the Space Elevator.

Grand Dame Noémie Durand of Karseille was letting the Imperial guest go through their coughing fit in peace, the air here on Midgård was quite different in comparison to the smog choked Hive Cities that many Imperial were accustomed to, or the factory choked Forge Worlds. Midgård was the capital world of the Kingdom, the seat of power for not only the Riksdag but also High King Surtr.

"Frakk, urgh,, I feel like I might spew in a minute. What kind of machine spirit cursed contraption was that? You said it was an elevator, not a bloody dropper. My heart and stomach just swapped places!" Ostia glares at her supposedly benevolent guide during this trip to Midgård, and now she felt like Noémie was actively trying to make her sick or something.

"Oh do not be so dramatic, it is an elevator for all intents and purposes. It rather jarring for all people when they first take I assure you. The ride up to the space port is much more comfortable I dare say however. Now Ostia cheri, let's keep moving so we don't block traffic. Allonz, Allonz." Noémie hooks an arm with Ostia's free arm, helping the Scion back upright and making their way down the walkways to arrivals.

Ostia grumbled some more under her breath while using the back of her hand to rub off anything from her mouth, giving a short glare at Noémie's very nonchalant approach to everything in life. It's already been one heck of a joy-ride these past few months, and if the galaxy had anything to say about this, it was that the ride was not going to calm down anytime soon. No matter what came round the next bend, it was almost something either a pleasant surprise or a serious head-turner.

Ostia still recalled when Noémie did a tour of the various Knights the various Dynasties of Karseille had in their hold, before getting the real surprise of witnessing the Knight called Dominion move on its own volition and even spoke. Though calling it actual human speech is another thing, the substance and tone was there in its words regardless.

"There should be a little time before we are truly required to make our appearance with the Ambassadors and the High King, so we can take in some sights here within the Capitol. Surely you would like to see something of their unique culture and faith? You are clearly more open minded in comparison to those frankly uncouth Inquisitive types,," Noémie rattles on some more, breaking Ostia out of her thoughts and now aware the duo had already made it through the arrival halls and toll gates. Ostia turned her gaze round to see what Noémie pointed out prior, before freezing in her tracks.

The city outskirts spread out across the valley before Ostia, and perched on the horizon were great edifices of stone and iron, towers and buttresses dotted along various monuments and constructs. Nowhere near the sheer scale of Imperial Hives or the like,, but the breadth of colors and materials mixed in the streets and boulevards, the clearly newer homes and skyscrapers being neighbors with centuries old brick mansions and malls. Ostia felt as if she was looking at an old relic tapestry from a bygone age, a mural depiction of what a civilization from before the Emperor or his like ever came to power. Locked in a time before Imperial modernisation and culture shifts.

On Imperial worlds and stations, one was always reminded of the present wars across the Imperium: vox hailers and Ecclesiarchy priests crowing at the citizens, propaganda and recruitment billboards and vox-net, the flotilla of Imperial Navy patrolling to and from almost every port. But here,,

"Do they even know that there is war going on? Out there in the Galaxy?" Ostia finally spoke, her eyes following the miniatures of citizens milling through the avenues and workplaces. "They know. Every single one of them." Noémie nods solemnly, a more neutral tone in her voice this time as she senses Ostia's mood change.

"But,, this doesn't feel like one being affected by the war. It's almost,, idyllic, calming even. Is this really the capitol?" Ostia still held onto Noémie's for a bit longer as she looked across the expanse of the city. Broad roads of cobblestones, foot bridges of wood and steel crossing over streets and canals, heaving open-air markets dotted through the districts.

"In the eyes of Midgårds people, yes. Kalmaholm was never meant to become a metropolis, but with Surtr's reign and the love of his new people,, it went through changes to accommodate the new center of a growing power." Noémie sighs gently under her breath, a softer gaze across her face as Ostia tries to spot where the High King may have his Palace or such like.

"Grand Dame Durand! What a welcome sight on your return." Ostia and Noémie turned to find the owner of the new voice, and spot the approaching men. Ostia has another heart skip however,, the man in question addressing her guide was not only huge, but had clearly visible neuro-ports dotted along his bared forearms and under his vest collar. Was he an Astartes?

"Ah! Löjtnant Lukas Tøva, so good to see you in warm health. And so well groomed as always, I must compliment you Midgårdians on your spring outfits." Noémie quickly releases her guest and regales Lukas with praise. If Ostia didn't know any better, she might have guessed the Dame was interested in the guy.

This Tøva character stood tall over Noémie and Ostia, easily half a head above R'tan in height though the main difference was his build. A broader chest and shoulders, with an overall heftier stocky appearance than the usual Astartes chiseled image that Imperial Propaganda would have one imagine. Tøva was clad in simple clothing of a dyed leather vest with a long sleeved linen tunic beneath, thicker weave trousers and what appeared to be rubber-soled slippers or shoes. The only thing which made Tøva distinct from his attendets was the metal badge pinned to his vest, with the seal of office he held.

"Hahaha you flatter me Grand Dame. I trust your journey here was without trouble? And I was informed you had brought guests however, ones that were not formally announced till you had already traversed The Veil." Tøva changed his tone while addressing Noémie, while his eyes turned to focus onto Ostia some meters behind.

The hairs on the back of her neck immediately stood on end, breath catching a scant moment when Tøva's eyes locked onto Ostia's. She always felt the gaze from an Astartes was cold or distant, but with R'tan it was vastly different, those held warmth, mirth and tender care. Tova's was something else entirely.

It felt as though Ostia was staring down the barrel of a bolter, having caught the attention of some apex predator in the bushland and locking eyes with them. The eyes were amber jewels beneath the trimmed brow, glinting sharply with calculating intent and precision. Ostia needed to reach for her weapon, her bolt pistol, something in hopes to get those eyes off of her. Now.

"Löjtnant Lukas, please be at ease. No need to scare my friend like so, she is a representative of House Haldus from the Imperium! Her House are allies of mine in this conflict with the enemy. Our, Enemy." Noémie firmly jabs the Astartes in the chest with an scolding finger, not enough to jostle the man but plenty enough to break his gaze with Ostia and scowl a little at Noémie.

Ostia felt her lungs open up again, her sudden tension and axienty melt away just as quickly they were forced onto her. Not exactly the most heartwarming of greetings she has had on a new world, but it wasn't the worst welcome she's had either. Her time here on Midgård is going to be eventful she thought while she cursed under her breath.

"Groxshit,,"

(Ostia Haldus belongs to of course @rowscara!)