#mentioned oc Arnault

[sleepyfan-blog]

Talking to Older Brothers

This is the next part in Cedric’s adventures in the Astartes Husbandry AU, and specifically the Introducing New Primaris Black Templars arc. For other adventures click here and here. First. Previous. Next.  Thank you very much to @kit-williams for allowing me to borrow her ocs Roland and Arnault and @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan for allowing me to borrow her OC Ramiel

Tagged:  @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @i-am-a-dragon34

Warnings: mentions of petras, death threats, if there is anything else I need to tag, please tell me!

Summary: After leaving the base, Cedric goes to talk to Roland, then later Arnault.

Cedric only enters the bakery once he’s certain that he isn’t being followed. There is, as he’s expected, a long line of eager mortals inspecting the delicious foods for sale. He deliberately takes in a deep breath through his nose, the mouth-wateringly delicious scents of the lovingly hand-crafted pastries and other baked goods a welcome distraction from the ugly feelings still eating away at his hearts like the most wicked of poisons. He lets out the breath he’d taken slowly, through his mouth, before inhaling through his nose again.

He does this several times, eyes closed as he lets the chatter of mortals wash over him. He’s not listening to any one conversation in particular, but allowing the sounds to help ground him. Cedric opens his eyes as he hears the careful, distinctive footsteps of Roland walking up to him. He’s not surprised that the mortal shop-helper already went off to go get Roland, as he is an Astartes, though a familiar face in this particular bakery. 

“Are you here for baked goods, Cedric? Or have you come to talk to me about something?” Roland asks, looking him over carefully, a considering frown on his face.

“... I need to speak with you, privately. But I did bring money to buy some of the delicious bread.” Cedric answered earnestly. Pallas and Olivar were healed to the point where they were being slowly introduced to baseline foods. There were few things better than the baked goods made by Roland’s Bonded in Cedric’s opinion, and he hoped to get them both a treat…

If he survives the punishment for attacking Chief Apothecary Melinth, he hopes to give them the bread himself. Otherwise, he’s sure that Ramiel will share the bread with them for him. Cedric’s superiors in the base have been distressingly lenient with him so far, but he’s quite certain that has come to an end. But that was a problem for Later Cedric to deal with. 

“Follow me, then, to the back. Do you mind helping me knead the dough? I had to run an errand this morning and we are a bit behind on some of the larger orders that came in while I was away.” Roland asked, gesturing for Cedric to follow him into the back of the bakery. 

“I’d be happy to help.” Cedric answered earnestly. He smiles cheerfully as he sees you working diligently on some kind of fruit filling for the carefully arranged trays of tart-shells, waiting to be filled and finished cooking. “Hallo!” He calls out to you.

“Good afternoon, Cedric. It’s good to see you again. You’ve been pretty busy these past couple of months. New apothecary training?” You ask, giving him a small smile.

Cedric stills for a moment, face solemn “I wish it were something like that. I do apologize for being so absent recently. Things have been… Tumultuous, as of late. It’s what I wanted to talk to Roland about… Arnault as well, though I plan on talking to him later today.”  He goes over to the sink, washing his hand properly before heading over to the kneading table, grabbing one of the balls of dough and starting to work it in his hands. 

Roland washes his hands as well, and joins him in kneading the bread. He asks “What has been going on up at the base?”

Cedric focused on the way the bread dough felt in his hands as he pushed, pulled and folded it for a couple of seconds before answering, making sure not to put too much strength into manipulating the dough, or else it would tear. The repetitive motions and the care with which he needed to manipulate the bread, while also using some of his strength to get the dough to cooperate properly helped him stay calm as he explained, briefly glancing at you before switching over to Gothic “Over the past couple of months, there have been four new arrivals from M42. All four of them have been Primaris Black Templars. All of them badly injured. Two of them died, despite every effort to get them to a point of stability.” 

Cedric felt the bread tear in his hands and his eyes stung. The young apothecary huffed in frustration, shaking his head as he kneaded the dough back together, suppressing a growl of frustration, willing himself to find the calm that he’d very nearly achieved. 

“It’s unusual for an Astartes to die on Terra.” Roland remarked, also in Gothic, so as to not worry you. “Do you know what they plan on doing with the bodies?”

Cedric scowled “It does not matter what they want to do with the bodies up at the base - and I know what the chief apothecary wants to do with them. But since they are Black Templars and I am the highest ranking Apothecary of their chapter that any of them can get ahold of, I get to decide what happens to them. The organs that were salvageable have already been taken-” Damn it, he tore the bread dough again. A frustrated grunt leaves him as he mashes the torn pieces of dough back together, scowling fiercely “-and I intend on having Malachai and Lestras cremated. I will be speaking with local mortals who have facilities to properly burn their bodies, and intend on having their remains burned by the end of the week. Ramiel is getting the necessary supplies for the Rites of Remembrance, and I do have a holy place in mind for the Rites to be performed.”

Cedric put down the thoroughly kneaded dough ball into a loaf-pan, so that it could prove again and then be cooked. He reached for a second dough ball, his hands squeezing into the soft, giving substance. 

“Is this holy place off-base?” Roland asked perceptively as he set the dough ball he’d been working on in its own tin and grabbed another.

“Ja. There is a beautiful baseline church nearby, with stained-glass windows and a bell that rings beautifully when it is rung. One of the Sisters who tends to the spiritual needs of the mortals is bonded to an Astartes.” Cedric explained. He hesitated for a moment, knowing that he should be fully truthful about this particular Cousin, to avoid any potential… Problems “A pre-heresy Word Bearer Chaplain by the name of Lykus. We’ve spoken a couple of times.”

“And here I thought you tried to avoid every chaplain who wasn’t Ramiel for mysterious reasons.” Roland murmured, a teasing smile on his face “I have seen him around, occasionally. He seems a decent sort, and from well before the Fall of his legion.”

“Ramiel and I plan on holding the Rites of Remembrance in that church as soon as he has everything he needs. The two other Primaris Black Templars would be attending as well, though they’ll need assistance to get to the church, as their wounds are extensive and some of them limit their mobility. I was… We were wondering if you wished to attend.” Cedric explained, this new ball of dough tearing in his hands as he asked. The young apothecary wordlessly grumbles in frustration, rolling the two halves back together between his hands before going back to kneading the dough. He can’t quite look at Roland as he waits for the other’s answer.

“I would be honored to attend the Rites of Remembrance, and to meet the newly arrived Brothers as well.” Roland murmured, his voice warm.

Cedric risked peeking over at Roland. Stilling for a moment as he saw the gentle smile on the older Templar’s face. He swallowed hard, grateful beyond words for his response. “I… Thank you. If… If you wished for your bonded to attend, should she wish to, she would be… She would be welcome.”

Roland’s eyes softened a little and he set down the dough ball he’d been kneading, turning to fully face Cedric. He reached out slowly and pulled Cedric in close, hugging him tightly. “I would be honored to attend, and if you would be more comfortable with this event being Astartes only mein bakerin would understand.”

Some of the poisonous wrath in his hearts faded, as his older Brother hugged him. Cedric was careful to put down the dough in his hands so he didn’t accidentally mash it into Roland’s back as he hugged the other back. If he hid his face in the other’s shoulder for a moment or two as even more tears fell from his treacherous eyes…

Well, Roland was kind enough not to mention it, only hugging him tighter still. “Losing brothers is never easy, and grieving for them isn’t a sin, nor is it a sign of weakness.”

“... There is much to do, before I can grieve them. But I will, once they are resting, and my injured Brothers are healed.” Cedric answered quietly, slowly letting go of Roland and turning back to the ask of kneading dough. 

“... Grief does not wait patiently for one to have the time for it.” Roland warned Cedric “If you try to ignore your grief, it will try und consume you from the inside out. Terra is… Terra is a safer place to process these kinds of emotions, difficult though it is.”

“I will keep that in mind, Bruder Roland.” Cedric half-grumbled, though he did accept the older Templar’s word of warning for what it was. “... I need to tell Arnault of the upcoming Rites of Remembrance as well. I sought you out first as the bakery is closer to the base.”

Roland hummed in acknowledgement before asking “Is there anything else that you want to tell me?”

Cedric hesitated for a moment before shaking his head “Not right now, but thank you for listening.” He slowly let go of one of his older brother and started kneading a dough ball, letting out his frustrations on the soon-to-be loaves of bread.

Roland watched him for a long moment before returning to kneading as well “Alright. But if there is something that weighs on your hearts, or you are struggling with something ,you know you can always come to me, and I will help as best as I can.”

Cedric nodded, shifting a little from foot to foot “I will keep that in mind. Thank you, Roland.”

“All is well.” The older Templar responded with a small smile.

Cedric kneaded bread until he felt somewhere close to calm, before washing his hands and saying goodbye to both Roland and his bonded. He was fairly sure that Arnault and his bonded were at home, at this time of day, and planned on stopping by, to see if they’d talk. 

~

The young apothecary made his way over to where Arnault and Angela lived, pausing for a moment when his astartes-sized phone began ringing in his pocket. He paused, stepping to one side of the sidewalk so as to not block foot traffic before pulling the device out of his pocket. The name and number identified the caller as Captain Ash’val.

Cedric silently weighed the pros and cons of answering this phone call as it continued to ring in his hands. On one hand, this could be important, he might being recalled to base because a medical emergency was either happening or inbound and they needed all hands on deck. One of his injured brothers could be reacting poorly to being tended to by firstborn Apothecaries, or had taken a turn for the worse. On the other hand he had snapped at the other in anger, and he had a physical altercation with the chief apothecary of the base… The consequences of that, he knew he was going to be facing shortly after returning to said base. 

Cedric continued to stare at the phone in his hand, paralyzed by indecision. Should he put the phone back into his pocket, pretend that it was on silent, or that he just hadn’t heard it, distracted by the sights and sounds of Gannet Point? Should he face whatever trial this was sure to be now? What should he d-

“Cedric?” Miss Angela called out from behind him, causing the young Black Templar to startle and fumble with his phone. Despite his best efforts, it fell to the ground with a deafening and decidedly bad sounding smack as it  landed screen-first onto the edge of the sidewalk near the road. 

“I.. Uhm. Hello miss Angela!” Cedric managed out, attempting to smile down at the meek baseline human before he quickly knelt and scooped up his now broken phone. Dorn damn it all, today was not at all going the way he’d hoped it would. “I was hoping to speak to you and Arnault, if you are not busy…”

Some of the tension that Miss Angela had been keeping in her shoulders relaxed a little and she responded with “Of course I’d be happy to talk to you. Arnault as well. He got a call from Captain Ash’val not too long ago, actually. He said that something happened at the base and you stormed off, and that no one’s been able to get into contact with you for several hours, since. Arnault, love, Cedric’s over here!” That last sentence she half-shouted.

Arnault materialized out of nowhere, clearly having somehow acquired a teleportation array and the ability to use it effectively. “There you are! Come, we will talk in our home. I’ve heard what Ash’val and Melinth said what happened. I want to hear your side of it. Where have you been?”

Cedric fidgeted feeling guilty for worrying the older Black Templar “I left the base and knew I was being followed, so I shook off the person tailing me and went to the bakery that Roland and his bonded run together and talked to Roland for a while while kneading bread, to help calm down. It… it worked more or less.”

Arnault heaved a sigh at that, shaking his head a little “I am glad that you decided to find a safe way to vent your fury though why did you feel the need to shake off whoever was trying to catch u to you from the base?”

“Because I knew whoever was following me wasn’t one of my fellow Primaris Brothers and I… Don’t know how well I would have reacted to interacting with a fairborn marine who wasn’t a Black Templar in the fury I was in.”

Arnault hummed, nodding a little in understanding “Ja, I get that.”

“The door’s open, love! Once you two are ready to come inside.” Angela called out from the front door of her home before entering.

“Inside, now.” Arnault ordered Cedric, pointing at the door, a stern expression on his face.

“Yes sir.” Cedric responded, obediently doing as he was told as the older Black Templar followed closely behind him.

~

“Do either of you want something to drink?” Angela asked from the kitchen as Cedric and Arnault entered the cozy home. 

“Uhm… Some tea would be nice, if you don’t mind, Miss Angela.” Cedric answered after Arnault stared at him silently for several seconds.

“I’ll have a cup of tea as well, mein Engel.” Arnault called out with a small smile on his face. It faded and he addressed Cedric tersely “You, sit. Couch.”

Cedric barely managed to suppress the instinctual flinch the flat tones and sharp orders from an older brother instinctually provoked. “Yes sir.” he carefully took off his shoes first, putting them in the shoe bin before heading to the aforementioned couch, sitting on the edge of it, anxious. He couldn’t even look at Arnault at all, much less in the eye as he waited for the other to do or say something.

A short but very audible sigh left Arnault as the Emperor’s Champion made his way over to where Cedric was sitting, joining him on the couch. “What I was told by Chief Apothecary Melinth was that he asked you about irregularities that he found in the geneseeds implanted in Malachai and Lestras. In the ensuing argument, you escalated things violently before storming out of the base. Care to explain what happened?”

“Did… Did Apothecary Melinth say why I became violent?” Cedric asked, doing his best to keep his temper in check. Apparently the bread kneading hadn’t been as effective as he’d hoped it would be, as the fury was once more surging to the surface. 

“He did not deign to go into specifics, and I was more focused on finding you before you picked a fight with some renegades or chaos bastards, or were found by them and they needled you into causing a much messier problem. What happened?” Arnault asked. He sounded… Worried? And non-judgmental.

Cedric risked looking directly at Arnault, trying to gauge the other’s emotional state. He looked mildly worried, but otherwise calm.  “He accused me of lying about my origins, and the origins of the other Primaris Marines. That instead of being created by the Mechanicum, we are a group of Bile’s abominations in the shape of Space Marines, meant to infiltrate loyal chapters and weaken them from within.”

“He what?” Arnault growled, a thunderous frown appearing on his face. 

Before the older Templar could say anything else, Angela walked into the living room, carrying three mugs of tea and a couple of plates of fruit and crackers. “Here you go, love, Cedric. I also grabbed a little snack, in case either of you were hungry. Do you want me to stay for this conversation? Or is this something private between brothers?” 

Cedric looked over at Arnault, unsure what the other’s decision about that was going to be. Much of this conversation probably wouldn’t make sense to her, even if they did speak in one of the local languages that she did know, rather than in rapid-fire Gothic. 

Arnault sighed “This conversation is going to be one that won’t make much sense to those who are not Astartes, mein Engel, and there are some things that have been verboten to explain, even to our bonded. I adore having you near me whenever possible, but this is an astartes-only conversation.  I hope you understand.”

“I don’t understand the subject matter, but I will let you talk to your younger brother privately. I’ll be in my sewing room, if you need or want my help or presence.” Angela murmured, a small smile on her face as she walked over and gave Arnault a kiss on the lips before walking off.

“I will always want you near me, unless there is something dangerous going on. Then I will want you to be as safe as possible. Danke schon for understanding, liebling.” Arnault murmured, kissing her back, a loving and affectionate smile on his face. 

Angela nodded and left the room, with Arnault’s gaze lingering on her as she left. Once the sounds of her quiet footsteps could not longer be easily heard, the older Black Templar refocused on the conversation “Is that when you got violent? The presumption that he made that you und your Primaris Brothers were not who you said you were, but infiltrators and saboteurs?”

“No, though I will admit to yelling at him for how incorrect an assumption that was. I became physically violent after he repeatedly crowded into my physical space and attempted to grab me while I was trapped against one of the walls of his office.” Cedric paused for a moment, a slight shiver running down his back at the sheer panic and fury that had been running through him at the time. He continued to confess to Arnault “He tried to either grab or strike me and I responded by ducking his hands and kicking his bad knee out from under him. After that the physical fight continued until I could get to the door to his office and leave. I almost physically bumped into captain Ash’val as I fled the base… And I think I snapped at him, and my words to him were uncalled for and rude. After that I made sure to lose whoever was tracking me from the base and went to go speak to Roland… Though I didn’t tell him about the fight I got into.”

“What did you talk to Roland about?” Arnault prompted, his voice measured and calm.

“There have been four more Primaris who’ve arrived in the past couple of months, all of them fellow Black Templars… And all four of them were badly injured. Two of them are in the medical ward, recovering and going through physical therapy for some of their injuries. The other two…” His voice cracked and broke for a couple of moments. Cedric allowed himself a moment to get his words back before answering, voice quieter and shaking “The other two died. The last one we had a bit of forewarning about his condition and where he was going to appear, because of a vision Jophiel received. Despite all of Chief Apothecary Melinth’s skills, he was unable to save Malachai. Less than twenty-four hours later, both Malachai and Lestras were on surgical tables again, this time led by Melinth and six other high to mid ranking apothecaries of Loyalist, Renegade and Chaos leanings, to study the differences between Firstborn and Primaris Marines.”

Cedric paused for a moment “The newly dead brothers, in addition to the new living ones were what I spoke to Roland about. Along with the fact that Ramiel and I intend to have their Rites of Remembrance held soon, ideally by the end of the week. There is a church in town with beautiful stained-glass windows we intend on holding the Rites there. I have spoken to the Astartes who works there. He’s.” Cedric pauses for a moment, looking over at Arnault “A pre-heresy World Bearer Chaplain, with a bonded who is a Sister. Is… Is that going to be a problem?”

“... Do you know if he is corrupted at all?” Arnault asked, a small frown appearing on his face.

“I’ve talked to him a couple of times and he earnestly believes in the divinity of the god emperor. The fall of his legion distresses him greatly, from what little he’s spoken to me about it.” Cedric reported earnestly. “He shows no signs of corruption, to my knowledge.” Cedric also dutifully informs Arnault the name of the church and it’s address, in case the other wants to look at the church and speak to the chaplain himself first. “Oh! One last thing, if you wish and if she wishes, you may bring your bonded to the Rites of Remembrance.”

“You mentioned that all four of these new Bruders were found injured - Ramiel was also badly injured, upon being found here on Holy Terra as well. Do you know how they got those injuries?” Arnault asked, leaning a little towards Cedric as he asked, a very focused look on his face.

Cedric stilled. How much of the truth should he tell in this moment, without asking his brothers first? And he only had suspicions about who inflicted the wounds on Malachai and Lestras, as he hadn’t been able to ask them before they died. But Pallius and Olivar had both confirmed that they’d been badly beaten by Petras in M42 before awakening in M3 on Holy Terra. “As far as I know, they were injured in M42 and were brought by whatever force is behind this to holy Terra, in this time.”

“That doesn’t answer my question, Cedric. Do you know how they got so badly injured?” Arnault reiterated, his eyes narrowing a little as he spoke.

“I can’t say for sure how Malachai and Lestras ended up with injuries that they had.” though he had his suspicions, especially with Malachai’s injuries. They were, unfortunately, very familiar to Cedric. “But I do know that they’d gotten those injuries during the course of their service to the god emperor.” 

Arnault’s eyes narrowed a little further “Cedric… Ash’val showed me pictures of some of the wounds that were inflicted on your brothers - including Ramiel. I know what it looks like when someone has been attacked by Lightning Claws. All of them were attacked by an Astartes. None of them had defensive wounds, which means they did not fight back and you knew where all their injuries were, including internal ones.”

Fuck! What should he do? Cedric… Cedric did trust Arnault, he really did. But this wasn’t just his decision to make… Though, technically as the only Black Templar Apothecary tending to the injured Black Templars in the base it kind of was, in a legal sense. “... They were punished. The sins they allegedly committed vary by Brother, but the one that had them ultimately killed was one that they could not change, nor help.”

“Explain. Now.” Arnault ordered, his face a twisted into a thunderous scowl.

“I told you earlier that the Primaris rollout nearly broke the Chapter. Part of the reason why is because some Black Templars were killing Primaris Marines. A percentage of these murdered Primaris marines were the chosen apprentices of other Firstborn Marines who did not take kindly to their proteges being murdered. It was very nearly a full-on civil war within the chapter, and it…” Cedric swallowed hard, unable to look at Arnault directly as he continued to explain. He had a desire to curl up into as small of a ball as his large frame would allow, but managed to  It only stopped after the High Marshal gathered the full fleet together for a meeting and informed everyone that we Primaris marines were here to stay, and that we were not heretical abominations. If anyone wished to disagree with that, they could fight him for leadership over the chapter. None of his challengers survived the ritual duels, including the marine who was responsible for the deaths of all five of my fellow Primaris Black Templars.”

“Are any of the Black Templars who killed younger brothers currently here on Ancient Terra?” Arnault asked, his voice hard and growly. 

Fuck!

“We… We don’t know for certain.” Cedric answered truthfully… Sort of. Petras was on Holy Terra, but none of them had managed to work up the courage to confront the Chaplain directly, to find out when exactly the chaplain was from. Petras was well over four hundred years old, when he had been felled by High Marshal Helbreicht after all, and had spent well over two hundred years as an honorable and well-regarded chaplain of the Black Templars. 

“Explain to me, what you mean by that. In detail, Cedric.” Arnault growled, still scowling at Cedric.

The younger Black Templar tried very hard not to start obviously panicking. Cedric wasn’t sure how to explain in a way that wouldn’t potentially cause Arnault to fly into a rage. “I… Uhm.. Ah…” He grabbed the cool mug of tea that had been created for him and took a sip from it very slowly, trying desperately to figure out how to word things. Before he could come up with something to tell Roland, there was a strong knock on the door. “You should probably answer the door, Brother Roland.” Cedric timidly suggested, hiding behind the mug of tea as best as he could manage. 

Arnault grumbled under his breath as he stomped over to the front door. “Ja, what do you -oh Hello Roland. Bitte, come in. Cedric and I are having a chat, and you are welcome to join.”

“Danke, I’d be happy to chat with my bruders. Hallo Cedric!” Roland calls out, sounding relatively cheerful.

Oh no. Cedric is starting to feel a little cornered. He surreptitiously pulls out his phone - the screen is indeed shattered, but it does light up when he presses the correct button and checks his text messages. He’s got several missed phone calls from Captain Ash’val. The two of them are walking back to the living room he’s sitting in. Come on, escape from this conversation! His phone began ringing, it was Ramiel. God emperor bless you!i “Hey Rami, what’s going on?”

“Mattias is being brought to the clinic for treatment by his warband. He’s been  badly beaten and half-stripped out of his armor. He’s alive for now, but he’s in bad shape. I really think that it would help if you were at there to help him stay calm while he gets patched up.” Ramiel informed him, voice low and worried.

“Fuck! But he-he was fine when he arrived on Ancient Terra a couple of months ago. He-he didn’t somehow go back to M42 and come back again, did he?” Cedric asked, alarm shooting through him as he got up to his feet. “He was… He was brought to Holy Terra before he… Before he was…”

“I know that he was uninjured when he first came to Ancient Terra. According to the Crusade leader, they were meeting with a different crusade, this one lead by a chaplain captain. The chaplain wanted to talk to him privately. After their conversation he left with his crusade and Mattias didn’t. It took them an hour to find him, and he’s badly hurt.”

“That bastard’s doing it again. Fuck!” Cedric swore “I’ll be at the clinic as soon as I can. Stay safe, and be smart Rami.”

“You too, Cedric!’ Ramiel answered before ending the call. 

Unfortunately for Cedric, before he could try and leave Arnault’s house, he had to get through both Arnault and Roland, who were staring at him with intensity. 

“Hey, so I need to go. I hate to cut this conversation short, but -” Cedric started.

“We overheard your little talk with Ramiel. You will explain to us right now who this bastard harming Primaris Marines is. We have been patient, waiting for you to talk to us. We aren’t waiting anymore.” Arnault growled, lunging forward and grabbing Cedric by the back of the neck.

“Roland… Help!” Cedric called out plaintively, trying to wiggle his way to freedom.

“Nein, you will answer our questions. Who is causing this harm? Now is not to be silent, like mortal martyrs. Let us help you.” Roland answered, staring at Cedric impassively.

“I don’t know for certain which chaplain it was!” Cedric protested, wriggling more, trying to escape.

“You have your suspicions. Talk, little brother. Now!” Arnault half-snarled at him.

“Chaplain Mephisteil Petras! He was the one who killed at least a dozen primaris marines, including his own Apprentice, Ramiel! He’s here on Holy Terra. We don’t know for sure if he’s from the time he was running around beating Primaris Marines to death, but he’s beaten firstborn Marines to the point that their crusade leaders have sent them to the clinic for treatment twice to my knowledge.” Cedric blurted out, a scowl on his face “Will you let me go now? I need to help keep another brother from dying to firstborn machinations and tempers.”

"I am going to kill him." Arnault responded. His voice was steady and calm, but there was a dangerous glint in his eyes.

"We. We are going to kill him." Roland corrected Arnault, shaking his head a little.

"Uhm... We don't know for certain that it was Petras who beat up Mattias..." Cedric pointed out, anxiously.

"True, but this sort of behavior is not something that just goes away." Arnault rumbled "And he was the one who organized the exile of myself and Roland because of our bonds." And because of his writing sins, but Arnault wasn't going to go into that.

“Danke, for finally telling us, Cedric. We will accompany you to the clinic.” Roland murmured as Arnault set him down on his feet. 

“Ja. Let’s go.” The Emperor’s Champion rumbled, a deep-set scowl on his face as the three of them sprinted out of the cozy home and off to the Astartes-run clinic.

[egrets-not-regrets]

Cedric: From One Healer to Another

Of Fin and Feathers AU: Cedric gets to meet his aunt, Amelia, a harpy healer... and Alcyon, her bonded chaos Iron Warrior mer.

Author's Note:

Erriox (to Alcyon): Amelia will be safe. Cedric may be a Black Templar, but he won't hurt her. Besides, Lenora is there.

Alcyon: Black Templar >:(

********

Cedric: How could someone be so nice and be bonded to that chaos heretic! >:(

Here's a light, fun, and a little science-y fic to make up for the last two emotionally heavy ones. :) Thanks to @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow Cedric. He is adorable. Also mention of Arnault from @kit-williams. Yes, Alcyon has an intense bond with Amelia, like Arnault and Angela.

OCs: HarpyLenora, MerErriox (Iron Warrior OC), HarpyAmelia, MerAlcyon (Chaos Iron Warrior OC), MerCedric (Black Templar OC (c) @sleepyfan-blog)

Tagged: @shadowfirecat , @kit-williams , @bleedingichorhearts , @barn-anon , @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@sleepyfan-blog, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @bispecsual , @ms--lobotomy , @whorety-k

Lenora watched Cedric continuously grind the paste with his mortar and pestle with interest.

“What are you making?” she asked. 

“Ah… I’m making poultices for surface wounds.” The black and white mer replied, not stopping in grinding the paste, “It’s to protect the open wounds to prevent infection and possible contaminants from entering. Could you pass some of your down feathers?”

The osprey harpy handed her son the container of down feathers. Cedric took a few and grinded them into the paste. 

“And do you slather it onto the bandages before storing them? I couldn’t imagine it being easy to put on the poultice underwater.” Lenora remarked. 

“Some of the bandages will be coated with the poultice before storing. The rest will be stored in containers for manual application.” Cedric replied. He dipped his finger into the poultice he was making and took a glob out for the harpy to inspect, “The paste holds better than it looks. The addition of hagfish slime to the poultice allows it to hold well underwater and on land.” He explained, happy that his mother was taking an interest in his work. 

“Interesting.” Lenora smushed the glob around her clawed digits. What an interesting texture. She also noticed a cooling effect to it. Harpies sometimes used poultices, but it meant that they would have to be landlocked for a while to allow the poultice to work since the paste would start to dissolve underwater. It was rather inconvenient for harpies that lived around water, so potions tend to be used. With this though… this might work. It would be helpful in using poultices instead so that potions can be used for more extensive injuries. 

“Is it mint that is causing the cooling effect?” She asked. 

“Part of it.” Her son replied, “The mint is mixed in with aloe.”

Lenora nodded. A thought occurred to her, “Cedric, would you like to meet Amelia? She’s a healer too and would probably be interested in learning from you.”

“Yes, I would like to meet her! Do you think she will bring Ben along too?” He replied excitedly. 

“Maybe.”

Cedric brightened, it would be really nice to learn from his ‘aunt’ too and trade information with a fellow healer, especially one of a different species from him. You never know what you learn that may come in handy after all. Maybe she might bring Ben as well. His mother mentioned them sometimes, but he and his brothers had yet to meet them still. Cedric hoped to finally meet his little cousin too.

“If they do visit, it is likely that both their bonded will come with them.” Lenora warned, “I only ask that you not get into a fight with them, should they come too.”

The Primaris scoutling’s face scrunched in distaste, “I can… do that…” he replied. He nearly forgot about them. Right… if Amelia’s his aunt in name, then that chaos heretic would be his “uncle”. Cedric cringed, visibly disturbed. Nope. Nope. No, they’re of no relation. He is not about to call chaos anything that. Ugh… he doesn’t like it, but he has dealt with worse than ornery battle brothers as his patients in his experience as an apothecary, so dealing with the two chaos mers couldn’t be that much worse. Cedric can be professionally detached when he needs to be. He can behave as his mother requested. 

Lenora watched her son’s expression with amusement. She knew how much her boys disliked chaos-aligned mers. But she trusted that they would behave if she asked that of them. She could trust that they would at least leave the other alone and not goad them into a fight. 

“You sure you can do that?” She chuckled. 

Cedric straightened his posture, “Yes.” He replied confidently. 

Lenora smiled, “Alright. I’ll go talk to her.” and left to find Amelia. 

She managed to secure a visit from the harpy healer the next morning, since she had time and Alcyon coincidentally would be patrolling with Erriox that day. 

The next day came and Erriox said his goodbyes before taking off. Alcyon and Amelia arrived at their family nest shortly after he left. Cedric's eyes widened and his fins flared at the sight of the large scarred mer who protectively curled around his plover harpy mate upon entering the cave and spotting the Black Templar scoutling. His mind screamed danger. The chaos mer was larger than Erriox, almost about Claude’s length (in his shark-tailed form). The young Primaris mer could tell the chaos mer had centuries more battle experience over him, judging from all his healed over scars, discoloured healed fins, and prosthetics replacing his right eye and left forearm. He would be hard to beat in a fair fight. Not that chaos mers would fight fair, in his opinion. 

Cedric placed himself, not so subtly, in front of Lenora to protect her. His eyes were sharp and muscles tensed, ready for any attack from the chaos mer-Astartes. Lenora smiled exasperatedly as she stepped to the side of him. 

“Whelp. You hurt my mate and I will end you. I don’t care if you are my brother’s son or not.” Alcyon growled at the apothecary-in-training, still protectively curled around his bond-mate.

“I will not…”Cedric bristled with indignation, feeling insulted by the chaos mer’s implication. He might be a loyalist and didn’t trust chaos mers as far as he could throw them, but it didn’t mean he would harm his bonded! Let alone someone who’s a close friend to his mother!

A brush from Lenora’s wing calmed him down. She smiled at him, “Easy, Cedric…” she murmured. 

The young apothecary felt vindicated in a petty way watching the large mer get scolded by his smaller harpy mate for his rude behaviour, “Alcyon! I told you to be nice to the youngling! He will not hurt me. Have some faith in Lenora at least.”

“I know.” The fierce mer grumbled, “but he is a Black Templar…”

“Lenora has two Black Templar sons, and no harpy has ever been harmed by them.” The plover harpy refuted.

Alcyon let out of huff, “Fine.” He called out to the osprey harpy, “Lenora, her safety’s in your hands.”

Cedric’s dorsal fin flared and he let out a low growl at the perceived threat towards his mother. The chaos mer ignored him, focusing on his mate instead. Rude.

Lenora snorted, “Amelia is safe with me. There won’t be a feather out of place.” She reassured with good humor, patting Cedric’s back to ease him. 

“Everything will be fine, I promise. Go. Erriox is waiting.” Amelia cooed, reaching up to caress her mate’s cheek. Alcyon held her close and nuzzled her, “I should be back by nightfall. If not, Malaran knows that you are here.” 

“Of course.” They shared a kiss before the chaos merAstartes swam off to join his legion brother.

Cedric stared at them, still unbelieving that a chaos mer would be so tender and protective towards their bonded. Maybe they shared a bond like his big brother Arnault and his bonded, Angela. It would explain how intensely guarded Alcyon was over Amelia. And Amelia’s son, Ben, was apparently bonded to a Black Legion chaos mer. Does this bonding phenomena run in the family? His mother didn’t have any biological children, so he can’t really say. Cedric hypothesized that if she did, her child might end up bonding with a loyalist mer if that was the case. 

“I’m sorry Cedric, Alcyon can be very overprotective of me. And well, he doesn’t like Black Templars very much.” Amelia apologized, somewhat embarrassed by her mate’s posturing. She reached out her clawed hand, “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m happy to meet an Astartes apothecary.”

Cedric shook her hand, giving his aunt a smile to put her at ease, “It’s… alright. Bonded mers tend to be intensely overprotective over their non-Astartes partners. It’s nice to meet you too. Mutter told me all about you and Ben.”

“Speaking of… where is Ben anyway?” Lenora asked. 

Amelia gave a helpless smile, “He’s flight training with Malaran. He’s very enthusiastic about being able to knock Erriox over.”

The osprey harpy laughed, “We’ll see about that!” Knowing how solidly built her mate was.

Cedric chuckled at the thought of a small plover harpy cannonballing into his older Iron Warrior cousin.

“Cedric, Lenora mentioned to me about how you make your poultice. It sounds interesting. You added hagfish slime to it?” Amelia asked. 

The Black Templar scoutling confirmed with an excited trill, “Yes! The hagfish slime keeps the poultice intact while underwater.” 

The harpy healer hummed, impressed, “That’s what’s missing from our poultices. While poultices work for surface wounds on land, it causes harpies to be landlocked for a while because they would start losing effect and start to dissolve in water. Which is rather inconvenient for us living by the water.” 

“Hagfish slime isn’t easy for us to obtain either, as they reside too deep for us to reach.” His mother added. 

Cedric thought for a moment and then asked Lenora, “One hagfish produces a large amount of that slime coating. What do you think of keeping a hagfish around?”

Both harpies hesitated, having seen the mess that a few spilled hagfish can cause when they visited the siren sisters of the Storm Rocks to do some trading. 

“I would say, maybe keep a few hagfish to an area underwater by feeding them, and harvest their slime that way. I’m not keen on cleaning up a mess of slime from our nest if an accident happens, and neither would Erriox.” The osprey harpy gently nixed his idea. 

The black and white mer pouted a little, but he understood what his mother meant. Plus, Cedric could see an accident like that happening from he and his brothers’ roughhousing. He sighed, the other suggestion his mother gave wasn’t a bad one though, he could work with that. 

Amelia nudged Cedric gently, giggling, “We’ve seen the aftermath of a hagfish spill, it’s a big mess from only three hagfish. I am curious about your poultice recipe though, would you mind telling me so I can write the recipe down and try it?”

Cedric nodded, “Of course! If you don’t mind telling me yours as well. We could trade results! It would be nice to have a comparison to see what can be improved.”

“I agree.” Amelia smiled at her nephew. Lenora handed them both a loaded ink quill and parchment as they dictated and discussed their poultice recipes with one another.

Time passed by all too quickly. They were deep in discussion about the different cone snail toxins that could be effective pain relievers in healing potions when Alcyon and Erriox returned from their patrol. 

Amelia churred and nuzzled her mate, pleased with his safe return, when the larger chaos mer wrapped her in his embrace, “Hello Alcyon. Your patrol went well?” 

Alcyon purred and kissed her temple, “All is calm and rather boring. I see that you are unharmed.”

“Everything is fine, like I told you. Quit looking down on the poor fledgling!” Amelia chided him. 

Cedric glared and hissed at the chaos Iron Warrior, “I would never harm anyone’s bonded, let alone a friend of meine Mutter! Don’t insult me!”

Alcyon stared at him evenly, commenting to Erriox and Lenora, “Good to see this one has a backbone on him.” Then turned to his mate who finished gathering her things into her bag, “Ready to go?” He asked. 

Amelia smiled and bid them goodbye before heading to the cave entrance. She flew off with Alcyon diving into the water, following close behind. 

Cedric blinked in confusion, his jaw falling slightly open, “Was that…?” 

Erriox laughed and clapped a hand on his adopted son’s shoulder, “Consider that his compliment and his approval.” 

The young apothecary didn’t know how to feel about that, but he supposed at least he won’t have to worry about the chaos Iron Warrior glaring at him anytime he interacts with the harpy healer in the future. 

Lenora smiled, “That worked out quite well.”

Cedric frowned slightly, “I guess… but I don’t like his attitude towards you, Mutter.”

“Alcyon can be rather abrasive, so I do appreciate your patience with him. Thank you for that.” She nuzzled him. 

Feeling happy at the compliment, Cedric let out a soft purr and nuzzled her back, “You’re welcome, Mutter.”

[lucresence]

Muse Roster

updates possible // click links for headcanons

Fire Emblem: Three Houses

all muses are route flexible // post-timeskip by default

Kriemhild von Draupnir (OC)

Black Eagles OC

Primary muse

Bisexual muse

More information & canon interactions

Possible sensitive content: bullying, burn scars

Ingrid Brandl Galatea

Primary muse

Bisexual muse

Disclaimer & headcanons

Possible sensitive content: arranged marriages, death

Mercedes von Martritz

Secondary muse

Bisexual muse (male-leaning)

Crimson Flower default with Black Eagles

Headcanons

Possible sensitive content: arranged marriages, death, emotional abuse

Dorothea Arnault

Primary muse

Bisexual muse

Headcanons

Possible sensitive content: mentions of sexual interactions, death, sexual harassment

muses will default to Three Hopes when interacting with Shez

[silverspecks]

Ten favourite characters from ten pieces of media:

1.) Dorothea Arnault- I love her so much-So much that she’s my profile picture. Also we share a birthday.

2.) Inej Ghafa- Fron the Grishaverse series of novels. I debated between Inej and Zoya but Inej won out just slightly.

3.) Kate Bridgerton (Previously Kate Sharma): I love her so much. We didn’t know if we were going to watch Bridgerton after season one but Kate made me want to stick to it.

4.) Harrowhark Nonagesimus- A lot of Locked Tomb characters could go here but she’s currently one of my favourite characters of all time.

5.) Inigo/Laslow: From Fire Emblem Awakening and Fire Emblem Fates. Congrats Inigo for being the first male character to make it in this list!! I already listed a character from Three Houses but Fates/Awakening is a very different game.

6.) Caethari Aeduria: Is this recently biased? I don’t know. But congrats Caethari for making this list. I love you so much. Check out A Strange and Stubborn Endurance by Fox Meadows

7.) Marz-From I was a Teenage Exocolonist. I love Marz so much.

8.) Peeta Mellark: From the Hunger Games. Peeta has always been one of my favourite guys of all time. And he still makes this list.

9.) Dorian Pavus- I might be out of the Dragon Age fandom but I still love Dorian so so much.

10.) Finally Special Mentions to Leander and Kane-Two of the specialist OCs from my two specialists partners. Thank you @crownsofguilt and @transselkie for these two fantastic guys. Thea and Victarion should also go here but listing Leander and Kane as my special pics for this list adds for extra hilarity.

@crownsofguilt you can list ten other characters if you want. @transselkie list your guys!

TAG GAME— List 10 of your favorite characters from different fandoms

Thank you for tagging me @coderiderr

Hortensia (Fire Emblem Engage)

Juvia Lockser (Fairy Tail)

Kaze (Fire Emblem Fates)

Lisia (Pokémon)

Maka Albarn (Soul Eater)

Owain (Fire Emblem Awakening)

Shirayuki (Snow White with the Red Hair)

Van Hohenheim (Fullmetal Alchemist)

Yuuri Katsuki (Yuri!!! on ICE)

Zeref Dragneel (Fairy Tail)

Tagging: @fayesdiary @dragonballwish @elegyofthemoon @sevarix-blogs @ghostlydragonpainter

[honeykngdom]

what ocs do you have out now?

asdfghjkl I have a lot that I mention and create but don’t actually do anything with .. but a total list is as follows: 

calliope hobbs (riverdale)

sabine abernathy (riverdale - future!au)

donovan hobbs(riverdale)

daniel hobbs(riverdale)

dean hobbs(riverdale)

serenity turcios(riverdale - future!au)

tobias gorcea(riverdale)

danielle rose (caos)

amelia kimball-kinney (riverdale - soulmate!au)

ethan arnault (riverdale - more of a plot device than he is anything else lol)

natasha black (riverdale)

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Heathen in My Own Right

Author's note: Hura's next chapter. I mentioned @sleepyfan-blog Death Guard OC Darsas and their Salamander OC: Ash'val too. @kit-williams OC's Roland and Arnault are mentioned in this. Thanks for letting me borrow them!

Past =-= Next

Warnings: None as far as I can tell. Let me know if I need to add anything.

Summary: Hura and others get warned about a Feral War Band of Black Templars showing up.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams,

Tagged continued: @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k, @ms--lobotomy @bispecsual @thevoidscreams

Tagged continued: @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

Hura’s beloved human has fully recovered from their illness a month later, the minor blessing that he’d given them had been a tad stronger than he’d meant it to be. But he’d made sure to note down that he was able to give a Blessing of Nurgle that was so strong, in Ancient Terra where things were far, far more difficult and took far more effort, resources and time than in their home Era. 

It was something he was going to mention to Darsas the next time he saw him. Darsas tended to be more of a wanderer by nature and what his duties were, while Hura was an Apothecary, but necessity was more stationary. Granted, he, like all Apothecaries, was rotated through the various Astartes run stations as needed. 

And if he was called in to help with particularly recalcitrant or difficult renegade and most especially Chaos Marines, he was happy to help. He’d met Zeth recently, a Black Legionnaire, while he was blessed by the Warp with strong gifts… he was not the brightest of the Sons of Horus. 

Which wasn’t a bad thing, but something that was noted in his file for his fellow brothers and cousins in Chaos to help him with. Sometimes that type of brothers and cousins needed a bit more help, more structure and routine, and did poorly in the even less structured environment that is Ancient Terra if they weren’t a part of a specific group of marines. 

Bless his Hearts, Zeth was trying his best, but that Cousin has already gotten into trouble several different times and didn’t seem to quite understand what it was that he did that he was being scolded for. 

At Hura’s suggestion, he was put into a group with a couple of the sharper Sons of Horus and was given one of the stricter Chaos Marine Sergeants to keep him on track. While Hura isn’t an officer, he tends to be able to get his fellow Marines to listen and behave  with his unique blend of pleasantly threatening. 

Also, Chaos Marines especially know the phrase of “don’t fuck with the medic” and adhere to it, usually more strictly than the renegades and loyalists do. He scratches at one of his elbows as he heads into the Apothecary Meeting, listening to the others talk about various important administrative things.

Hearing about a War Band of Loyalist Black Templars (is there any other kind?) that are in the area that have some members who are… particularly dangerous. Has his eyes sharpening and he asks what they mean by that.

“One of the Salamander Captains,” The Ultramarine Apothecary says, “Said he’d gotten a warning from one of the Primaris Marines that the Chaplain Captain in that particular war band is… quite a hardliner.”

“Great, a particularly over zealous Son of Dorn,” One of his fellow Chaos Marine Apothecaries says with a groan, “So fun. Are we being shifted from inner city clinics to outer until the bastards leave then?”

“Yes, for the safety of yourselves and those around us,” Zariel says with a nod. 

“Any other information about this Black Templar war band that you should or need to tell us about?” Hura asks.

“Not at this time.” Zariel says with a shake of his head. 

Ash’val had been almost breathing fire how angry he was, and he’d grabbed all of the Primaris Marines on the base and had stuck them in the nest, a safe place and had been almost breathing literal fire and had stirred up the rest of the Salamanders quite unpleasantly. Learning what Catius had told him had, reevaluating the Black Templar Chapter, and sending a message back to his handler about it. 

Not that Ash’val had told him everything but it was more about the politics of M42 which had been nasty business. He’s not going to stir up this mixed group of loyalists, renegade and Chaos Apothecaries. 

Especially since some of them would spread the information around to some of their more Troublesome brothers and cousins to Start Shit. Not only that but Roland and Arnault of the Black Templars were also in the area. Having been told about another Black Templar Primaris marine in need of Older Brother guidance. Not that Zariel is going to tell these people that.

“Thank you for the warning cousin,” Hura says with a nod.

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Adopt-A-Jophiel Part 1

Past =-= Next

Author's note: The wonderful @egrets-not-regrets and I collaborated and wrote this part of Jophiel's story in Mermay, where Erriox and Lenora meet and adopt my Primaris Blood Angel Jophiel. Thanks to @egrets-not-regrets for allowing me to borrow the pair of cuties and collaborating on this fic with me! If you haven't already, please go check out @egrets-not-regrets writing they are very good at it! Thank you for @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow Cedric. Also thanks to @kit-williams for letting me borrow Roland and Arnault, they are more mentioned than here. So this is going to be a three parter.

Author's note 2: So, I had this and the other two parts ready and queued up before the poll for who should I work on next was done. I will be working on Karlsor and the others and get them out soon-ish.

They also have rally good writing!

Summary: Jophiel continues to avoid other mer-astartes and finds somewhere to try and take care of his wings. He meets Lenora, a Harpy who helps him out.

Warnings: Unhealthy coping skills, mentions of attempted self harm, let me know if I need to add more.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams,

Tagged continued: @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k

Jophiel had found somewhere to hide, it was a nice rocky area near the water. His wings are heavy with water as tries to shake them out before almost keeling over backwards and silently swearing as he rests on his haunches. His broody blood Angel colorations aren't quite perfect with the occasional touches of gun metal gray, stripes of yellow and black, with touches of dark green that are in tiny spots along his tail.

He has some venomous spines on some of his fins, which isn't what First Born Blood Angels or Successor chapters have. It's not super common, but not super uncommon among his brothers of the Primaris with the gene-seed of Sanguinius… Jophiel knows that all Primaris Marines are chimeric- aren't wholly one, but have at least two, some having three or more gene-lines within them.

Perhaps it's from his other gene-line that he gets the spines, venom and yellow patches? He shakes his head, those thoughts aren't productive. His wings are so fragging heavy as he starts the arduous process of trying to dry the wretched things. He frowns at his wings, they are far more a curse than a blessing. He knows that his gene-sire the Holy Primarch Sangunius was blessed by the God-Emperor with wings, but it was not… it was not a blessing for an Astartes to have the wings.

As they could cause madness within their fellow Astartes. Speaking of that, he grabs his knife from his belt as he grabs his hair and roughly chops it off. He wonders why his hair grows so fast, he has to keep his hair short, keep him looking less like his Blessed and most holy Primarch Gene-sire. It was … it was both auspicious and unholy to look too much like one's genesire. He tucks the blade back into the place he'd taken it from as he focuses on his wings again as he slowly tugs the left one in front of his scowling, red eyed gaze as he starts to try and dry and preen his feathers.

He's watched birds of all kinds preen their feathers, and try to emulate them. Some of the feathers have come loose as he pulls them out, and more of them out, and more- and he stops when the scent of blood hits his nose and he blinks, looking down at his left wing, and how it is even more unsightly to look at. He’s been letting out little chirps and trills, not that he realizes the noises he’s making, as well as little hisses and chirpy-whimpers of pain when he pulls the feathers out that he shouldn’t have. He grumbles and scolds himself as he lets go of his left wing. He brings his right wing over and starts to preen that one- fuck why does preening his wings hurt most of the time? He stops when he hears a voice call out to him. He turns to face the person- a Harpy, a mortal woman, who is looking at him with concern, and surprise.

"Hello," Jophiel calls out to her cautiously, his wings look a ruddy mess and his feathers are scattered about him, some of them covered in his blood, as he's not been entirely careful or kind to himself as he's over-preened his wings. Again.

"Fledgling, are you in distress?" Lenora calls out cautiously, realizing quickly that the calls weren’t exactly coming from a lost harpy youngling.

She eyes the massive form of the large black and red mer? No- he's got wings, but he is not a Harpy, perhaps he's a siren or a hybrid of some kind that she's not met or heard of before? Mers can be hostile towards Harpies, but he’d sounded so distressed and the state of his wings had her wincing.

"I… am not in distress?" Jophiel says, although it comes out more as a question than a statement of fact or falsehood.

"Your wings are in a frightful state," Lenora says, her wingclaws down by her hips as she gets a good look at him.

He's larger than Erriox, but from the look in his eyes, he seems… younger. A lot younger. Lenora's heard that there are different kinds of Mer and Astartes. Perhaps he's a rare form of Astartes? Erriox has spoken of his brothers and cousins sometimes. But as far as she knows, he's not told her about winged mer-astartes. She would have remembered if he had or not.

"I… can… take care of my wings." Jophiel says hesitantly, defensively as he folds his wings on his back and shifts away from the harpy.

"Not with the sorry state they are in you can't." Lenora points out, as she carefully steps over to him. "Pulling your feathers out like that will hurt you and your flight capabilities in the long and short term."

"I can swim in the sea, air and void of space," Jophiel says, "The wings are … a mutation."

Oh he shouldn't have said that as he tries not to curl in on himself. He is curious why she's talking to him. Harpies and Mer sometimes don't get along, and while he can tell she's cautious of him. He's surprised that she's talking to a very large, very unknown and powerful entity.

"Mutation?" She asks with a slight frown and her eyebrows wrinkling together in confusion before smoothing out. "Have you had someone teach you how to take care of your wings?"

"No," Jophiel says truthfully, "It's … hard to hide them on Ancient Terra. I could hide and ignore them back… where I was before."

"Even if you want to hide them, it's not a good idea to ignore the care of your wings. They’ll drop more feathers and itch more." Lenora says bluntly. Her heart strings are tugged a little at how likely this Mer-Astartes hasn't had someone to teach him how to take care of his wings.

He likely doesn't have a flock and he seems twitchy enough. And while he'd huffed and fluffed his bedraggled wings at her, the Mer-Astartes hadn't made a threatening or dangerous move towards her. Had even shuffled away and flinched from her occasionally, which had worried her even more at his reactions.

"I can help you by teaching you how to take care of your wings," She offers.

"Why?" Jophiel asks her honestly confused on why a stranger would help him with his greatest source of shame.

"Because to me, you seem like a lost fledgling who’s afraid of his own wings and doesn’t know what to do with them. Our wings are a point of pride for us harpies." She says, "My name is Lenora. What is your name?"

"… My name is Jophiel," Jophiel states after internally debating with himself if he should answer or try to ignore the strange harpy. He doesn’t deny that his wings are… something that he dislikes. “I’m not a Fledgling! I’m… old enough?”

He tries to count how old he is, the Mechanicus only counts the milestones of their training and how well they did and what their next milestone in training is. Also- once they had been taken to their Chapters to be trained, he’d been an Aspirant, and had recently graduated to being a Scout, not quite a full battle brother yet, before he’d come to Ancient Terra. He doesn’t have even one temple-bolt that denotes he’s survived 50 years in service yet.

"It's nice to meet you, Jophiel." She says, giving him an encouraging smile, still laughing in the back of her mind. Not a fledgling, indeed… she was sure Erriox would agree with her. 

Lenora slowly goes over how to properly take care of his wings when she realizes, with his half aquatic form, that her cousins, the Gannet harpies, were better suited to help him properly take care of his wings and teach him how to use them to swim. They look dreadfully soaked and from the way they almost hang limply from his form, terribly heavy. She carefully, and slowly teaches him how to keep his wings neat and healthy.

How to have the oils coat his feathers. It takes more than one day to help him get his feathers back into their full glory. Bright white wings that are absolutely massive but are reasonably sized for his body frame. She slowly got to know him over the next several weeks, but it took some time before he agreed to her invitation to visit her gannet cousins with her to learn to swim with his wings. Lenora couldn’t help but laugh at the poor mer being cooed and fussed over by the gregarious gannet harpies. Poor Jophiel couldn’t even muster a protest about not being a fledgling then, blushing over all their attention on him. While he is thankful to have learned how to properly waterproof and use his wings in the ocean, leading to more successful hunts, he was reluctant to visit the gannet harpies again. The attention was just too much!

One of the times that she'd been helping him with the parts of his wings that no matter how you stretch and twist, can't get without help from another set of hands she notices something that has her heart clench a little. He's got venomous spines- that remind her of her beloved mate- Erriox. Who she's spoken of in bits and pieces to Jophiel about. She also notices that he's not entirely black and red. He occasionally got spots of gray and yellow striping that reminded her of Erriox and she wondered… She'll have to ask Erriox if he knows if hybridization between mer-astartes pods is possible or not.

She’s at the nest she shares with her mate, it had been a few weeks since she’d met Jophiel. Erriox had been off on a Hunt with his shoal, and he said that he’d be back at around this time, unless something waylaid him. She is happy to see him as he comes home and greets Erriox enthusiastically as he swims over to wrap his arms around her. His smile fades somewhat as he smells a strange Astartes on her and it has his venomous spines puffing up.

“Have you met someone new recently?” Erriox asks her his eyes flashing with emotions, too quickly for her to recognize. 

“Yes- I know that you don’t like talking about your brothers or cousins much,” She starts, “But can Astartes have wings?”

“Wings?” His first thought was of some chaos mers, who’s mutations can have wings, but even that is a rare occurrence.

“Large, white, looks like Angel wings?” She says promptly, “Blonde hair, red eyes, large frame. Doesn’t have Chaos Mutations.”

His hearts start to beat faster. White angel wings? Blonde hair and red eyes? What was the primarch of the Blood Angels doing here on Ancient Terra? Would this mean that his own gene-father would be here too? If he was, he would have to hide Lenora elsewhere. Somewhere safer... No! he can’t have what happened in Olympia happen here too, not with Lenora at stake. He won’t go through such Hell again, there was much more to lose this time.

As far as he and any of his brothers and cousins are aware of, none of the Primarchs have shown up on Ancient Terra before. If this is the first of them arriving it would mean Big Changes. And which part of the timeline is he from? Before or during the Heresy? He needs more information. At least she met one of the more base-line friendly Primarchs. He shudders to think what would have happened if she had met one of the less friendly ones.

Erriox grasped the harpy firmly, shaking her a little, “You met the Blood Angel primarch? Sanguinius?”

“Primarch?” She parrots, confused, “No? His name’s Jophiel. He says he’s a Primaris Marine, whatever that is?”

“Oh.” Panic over. The Iron Warrior mer lets out a sigh of relief and nuzzles the harpy to apologize for his overreaction.

“Your reaction explains why he tries to hide his wings,” Lenora says lightly. “What’s a Primarch?”

She nuzzles into Erroix, trying to help the mer calm down. Wordlessly accepting his apology by nuzzling him more in return. She had noticed the way he’d started to panic. If that was the reaction that poor Jophiel got from others, it’s no wonder he’d been so scared of his own wings at first. 

“A Primarch is the gene-father of each Astartes legion. We Astartes are their sons, not by blood, but by the gene-seed that are implanted within us. The Primarchs are the source of that gene-seed.” he explained, “Not all primarchs are… safe to be around, and that includes my own gene-father.”

Lenora understood then why the mer started to panic.

Erriox quickly changed topics, “Primaris marine? That’s what you said that Jophiel was?”

“Yes, that is what he called himself,” She replies. “What does ‘Primaris Marine’ mean to you?”

She allows the change in topics for now, she’ll try to ask him later, or try to bring it up with Jophiel. Lenora knows that some people shouldn’t be parents, and the results of them having children, have the chicks suffer. All chicks deserve to have good parents, but not all who become parents should have chicks. She gently squeezes one of Erroix’s hands. He squeezes back. 

“I have heard of primaris marines in passing. They are supposedly larger, stronger and faster than any of us First-born are. Of the few that have been here, it is said they are chimeric with multiple legions’ gene-seed implanted in them.” A slight bitterness flows through the mer, are the first-born not good enough that they now have to mix the gene-seed of multiple legions? At the same time, given what he had learned about Horus’ betrayal and the chaos it sowed, it made sense that the Imperium needed to make more Astartes and have them more enhanced in order to fight against Chaos. Erriox couldn’t deny that he was curious about this Jophiel though.

“From what Jophiel has said and not-said, he’s been avoiding other Astartes Mer since his arrival because his ‘psyker illusions’ aren’t working to hide his wings… whatever that means,” Lenora listens to Erroix speak about what he knows. Noticing the faint sting of hurt and bitterness, she leans into him a little to help ground him. “Did you want to meet Jophiel? He seems like a kind mer, if just a bit shy” 

Erriox hums appreciatively at her, “Perhaps next time you meet him. I will come as well.” 

“He’s not talked about any of the local Astartes shoals… So I don’t think he’s interacted with them yet.” She nods in agreement at that, “I’m going to be visiting him in a couple of days. He’s off hunting with some of my gannet cousins. While he’s a bit intimidated by the attention they give him, he does seem a lot happier after he’s been off on a hunt with them.”

It worries her that Jophiel’s so isolated a lot of the time, she knows that some species are more content being on their own than others. But, she can tell he’s a social fledgling-mer. She’s glad that Erriox is back though, she’s missed him, and would like to introduce him to Jophiel. She hopes that it will be good for both of them. Perhaps Erriox might convince Jophiel that the local astartes pods aren’t so scary and to join one?

Erriox lets out a bark of laughter, having met the gannet harpies before, “Your cousins can be a lot to take in.”

“Only sometimes,” She said with a short laugh. “They mean well… They also call Jophiel my son.”

She looks at him carefully at that. Over the time she’d gotten to know Jophiel, she’d grown fond of the fledgling. She’d started to harbor maternal feelings for him, but hadn’t said anything about that to young mer, because she had wanted to talk to Erriox about him, and have the pair of them meet. Rather than spring a ‘surprise I adopted your younger cousin�� on him. After all, if she did adopt someone, she’d like to have her mate’s knowledge and approval beforehand, and have them know, and hopefully like each other before such a thing. It is highly unlikely for the two of them to be able to have children the traditional way. Adoption is a valid option, should they talk about it in depth and agree on it. Besides, Lenora had spotted some of the Iron Warrior venomous spines and faint coloration, among some personality traits that reminded her of her beloved Erriox. Especially now that she knows that Primaris Marines have more than one ‘gene-seed’ that perhaps… he’s got some Iron Warrior in him as well as Blood Angel?

“Son?” Erriox teases her, “You have to stop picking up lost fledglings, love.” Not that he minds, as long as it made his harpy happy, he supposes. 

“You should talk!” Lenora retorts playfully, “You’re the one who found the last one!”

Ignoring her remark, the mer smirks and nuzzles into her neck, “Or perhaps you are feeling broody and need to be taken care of…” 

Lenora squawks and laughs when Erriox suddenly picks her up, tosses her into their nest, and pounces in immediately after. 

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Like stone

Author's Note: More of Ramiel in Living Waters AU. Thank you for @kit-williams for letting me borrow Angela (Arnault's Bonded) and Becky (non-canon name for Reader Insert Roland's Bonded). Also, thank you for letting me borrow Arnault. :) Thank you to @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow Cedric.

Summary: Ramiel has decided to make a quiet celebration for himself and his fellow primaris brothers and cousins to celebrate being on Ancient Terra for a while. He asks for Angela and Becky's help.

Warnings: None. let me know if I need to add anything.

Past =-= Next

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams,

Tagged continued: @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k, @ms--lobotomy @bispecsual @thevoidscreams

Tagged continued: @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

A few weeks later Ramiel is helping gather supplies to trade with Angela and Backerin, Arnault and Roland's Bonded. He had seen, and been impressed by the quilt that Angela had made for Cedric. It was also waterproof and comfortable to the touch. 

He double checks that he has enough to trade for something so valuable and is only a little nervous as he approaches them, popping his head out of the water. He had also heard Cedric and Roland talk about bread, and how tasty it was when Backerin made it. 

He double checks the amount of pearls, of various Sizes and colors, as well as the Neat Rocks in various colors, as well as grabbing some Sea Glass. He also has some intact, empty of a critter in the sea shells of various sizes and colors. Each type of trade goods is in a different pouch so that they don't damage each other in transit. He calls out to the pair of human women who turn and smile brightly at him.

“Hello ma’ams,” Ramiel says as he activates his flying ability and carefully lands within easy speaking range of them. 

“Hello there Ramiel,” Backerin says with an easy smile as she looks at him.

It had been a few months Since the first few times she had met the younger Black Templar mer. He wasn't as shy as Cedric could be, and is a very good listener. 

“I have a request and something to give in trade,” Ramiel says as he rummages around in a satchel at his hip.

“Oh?” Both women ask, terribly curious.

“Yes, I saw the blanket that Miss Angela made, and it's lovely,” Ramiel says,  “I have pearls and rocks for trade, but I was wondering if you would be willing to make another one?”

He would like it if he could trade them for the goods. Knowing that artistry for the blanket, means it will take a while to create. Also, freshly baked goods, at least from what he's heard, are really good. 

“What scene would you want on the quilt?” Angela asks with a slight hum as she looks through the pouches of shells, pearls, preserved fish, and neat rocks.

“An ocean scene with a cave and an island, Astartes big,” Ramiel responded after a few moments of thought. “It’s not pressing, as I know that Quality work, like what you do takes a while- and you are likely really busy with other things-”

“I think that an ocean background with a cave and an island would look lovely,” Angela says- cutting him off a little. As she had gotten to know the Primaris Black Templar- she had learned he had a tendency to overthink things, and sometimes talk himself out of something if she, or someone else didn’t make him pause for a moment.

Roland’s beloved bonded human, Becky asks him, “What kind of bread and pastries are you wanting, Ramiel?”

“Sourdough- it’s so good,” Ramiel says, “And to try some of the sweet pastries as well.”

Becky hums a little as she goes through the pouches- only grabbing some of the pearls, they are so lustrous and pretty. Besides- he’s one of Rolands little brothers- one of the few that doesn’t treat him with hostility for… Space Marine Reasons. 

She’d heard Roland and Arnault speaking in a blend of Space mer and English about how they were- almost giddy, and worried, at meeting Ramiel- A Chaplain, whatever that meant, who’d been so open about meeting Bonded brothers.

And without the Judgement and passionate, fiery brimstone and damnation that most would inflict on them. Ramiel had just wanted to know if they were happy. His older brothers and the Bonded Humans. 

Becky asked Ramiel to follow her to her Bakery and watched as he peered down at the various treats with a hungry almost puppy-like curiosity on his face. She tried not to laugh, his expression and mannerisms reminded her very much of Roland at times. 

Ramiel is more openly expressive, likely due to his younger age- or so Roland says. Honestly, her bread fiend would happily stuff himself full of bread until he was almost sick if she didn’t stop him. 

Seeing Roland’s faux-innocent expression as he rapidly chews the bread, his cheeks stuffed full, almost like a chipmunk with their mouth full of nuts. Honestly. That man. At least Ramiel was more polite about it and tried to take smaller bites as he expressed his delight and joy at her baking.

He’d try to sneakily give her more pearls, Neat Rocks, and shells when she wasn’t looking. Sometimes she’d pretend she didn’t see him as he did it, a sneaky little grin would cross his face when she’d exclaim in delight at finding the little gifts.

Becky had gotten it out of Ramiel that he’d started planning a picnic for himself and his squad of brothers- their being on Ancient Terra together for six months would be happening soon and he wanted to celebrate the fact that they were all safe, relatively happy and whole.

It seemed like a sweet sentiment and she’d told him as such, his ears had gone bright red at that, which had her hiding a smile behind one of her hands. Angela had said that she’d try to get the quilt done before that six month mark.

Ramiel had reassured her that if it took longer, then he’d talk to his brothers about the picnic to celebrate at a later date and time for a slightly different reason. Angela had gently patted one of his hands at that, despite how nervous she could get around others sometimes, Arnault’s little brothers tried their best to not Seem Scary. Which could be quite the task with how big they are, how powerful their frames are, but they managed it at times.

A few months later Angela finished the requested quilt for Ramiel and had asked her beloved Arnault to let Ramiel know that his commission was completed and ready for pick up. Arnault had pressed a kiss to her lips and sent a message through his helmet communication device to send Ramiel a message.

Ramiel came by to pick up the waterproof quilt in two days, happy with how the quilt turned out, and insisted on giving her more pearls, shells and neat rocks, which she had protested that it hadn’t been that expensive to make, but like Cedric, had insisted that it was nearly priceless for the beauty of the created item.

He’d also gone to Becky to get a picnic basket full of bakery goodies- he’d also been making other foodstuffs for the picnic and had sent a non-urgent request to the rest of his brothers to join him at a low-key meeting.

Gratifyingly, his brothers and cousins replied swiftly and they joined him, noticing the new quilt and the baskets filled with foodstuffs he gave them all a smile and gesture for them to be seated and tells them.

“It’s been slightly more than six months since all of us reunited together on Ancient Terra,” Ramiel states, “And I thank the God Emperor and his infinite Mercy for sending us here. I am glad and grateful that we are whole, hale, healthy and hearty. Some of us have gotten into a better state of health, in one way or another, than from when we were… in the Before Times. I just wanted to celebrate this moment and give us a time to eat, drink, and be merry.”

“Aw, this is wonderful!” Jophiel says after a moment or two of silence, the first to respond to his words as he lunges forwards and wraps his arms around Ramiel. “I’m glad that we are all here, together, safe, and alive.”

“It is good that we are able to celebrate little moments like these,” Caitus says as he leans against Ramiel’s other side, wrapping an arm around his fellow Primaris Marine.

Claude nods and joins the impromptu hug pile, “I hope we are able to celebrate more moments like this in the future.”

Cedric is the last to respond as he gives Ramiel and the rest of them a hug, his hearts are full of emotion. Mostly good ones- he’d thought Ramiel would be lost to him, until he joined him in the embrace of the God Emperor’s light when he fell in battle. 

The hug pile remains that way for a little while longer before they let go and start to eat the feast of foods that Ramiel had prepared for them.

The flavors of the foods are delicious and they talk about everything and nothing and it’s nice to reflect on all that has happened, and wonder, with hope, what the future holds.

The rest of the squad helps Ramiel with cleaning up, waving away his protests stating that since he’d come up with the idea and gathered all of the supplies, that they were going to handle the clean up, which he’d reluctantly agreed to.

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Adopt-A-Jophiel Part 3

Past =-= Next

Author's note: The wonderful @egrets-not-regrets and I collaborated and wrote this part of Jophiel's story in Mermay, where Erriox and Lenora meet and adopt my Primaris Blood Angel Jophiel. Thanks to @egrets-not-regrets for allowing me to borrow the pair of cuties and collaborating on this fic with me! If you haven't already, please go check out @egrets-not-regrets writing they are very good at it! Thank you for @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow Cedric. Also thanks to @kit-williams for letting me borrow Roland and Arnault, they are more mentioned than here. So this is going to be a three parter.

Summary: Jophiel gets to meet up with two of his favorite brothers, Claude and Cedric. They get to meet his Mom and not-dad older brother-cousin Erriox.

Warnings: Unhealthy coping skills, mentions of attempted self harm, let me know if I need to add more.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams,

Tagged continued: @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k, @ms--lobotomy @bispecsual @thevoidscreams

The next morning Jophiel waited excitedly for Lenora’s arrival at the beach where they usually meet. He couldn’t wait for her to see his new look. Jophiel feels so much better,  he's more sure of himself, now that he no longer looks like an almost exact copy of someone dearly departed and much missed.

He chirped out a hello as the osprey harpy landed. Lenora gasped when she saw the Primaris mer. 

“Oh Skymother! You look so different! How do you feel?” She asks, knowing that his own appearance was causing him so much grief. 

“Better. Less worried now.” Jophiel trills back, “I am still not sure if this will work, but I don’t look like my gene-father anymore.” He adds, slightly unsure. 

“Small jumps are still progress.” Lenora croons, reassuring the winged mer. She walks a circle around him, appraising his new look, stopping in front of him. 

“Open your wings?”

Jophiel does as she asked and the harpy laughs brightly. He quickly pulls his wings closed.

“What’s wrong?! Why are you laughing?” He whines, feeling flustered and slightly upset at her reaction.

Lenora quiets and looks at him fondly, “Oh Fledgling, nothing is wrong. Just Mara thinks of herself as amusing, painting your wings to look like mine. She even painted your whole back brown. See?”

The harpy opens her wings and Jophiel does the same, tilting his head as he looks back and forth from her underwings to his. Mara really did paint them to match Lenora’s. Jophiel couldn’t help but let out a chuckle of his own. 

“You are indeed my fledgling now.” She said  warmly, reaching up to pat his cheek.

“Oh,” he squeaks, cheeks flushing as he peers down at her,”then … unless you or… anyone objects… I would be very honored and flattered if that was true…”

He says the last sentence very hurriedly and mumbles the words. Rather than speak the words out loud properly, Peeking down at her a little.

Lenora smiles at him, “I have no objections, and neither would Erriox.”

“Really?!” He says with hope in his red eyes sparkling down at her.

“You are one of our own.” She confirms to the mer.

“I would Be so Happy to be yours and Erriox's Fledgling,” Jophiel Replied. 

Lenora laughs, “Though I would suggest that you still call yourself Erriox’s younger cousin or brother in public. You might get strange looks otherwise.”

“That does sound like a good idea,” Jophiel agrees After a few moments of thought.

He learns from his Gannet Aunties and Lenora about some of the various rituals that can be done to inform those around them of their family status. He, Erriox, and Lenora decide which one that they think suits them best.

Once everything is prepared and things are gathered and an auspicious date has been set they gather at the Gannet Harpy’s Roosting Rock and the ceremony starts with Auntie Mara officiating the ceremony, informing all what they are gathered here for (as a matter of formality) and the three main participants talk about how much they have grown to love and care for one another.

“Jophiel,” Lenora says, calling out to her son by heart and choice,”will you do me the great honor of being my son?”

“Yes, mother Lenora,” Jophiel replies as he gently holds one of Lenora’s clawed hands, “I would like to become your fledgling in the eyes of all present for now and for always, so long as you hold affection for me in your heart.”

Erriox has gently reached out to hold Lenora’s other clawed hand and Jophiel's unencumbered hand and starts to say his piece.

“Younger brother of my hearts, dearest cousin,” Erriox states, “will you accept these titles as well?”

“I do, elder brother, older cousin,” Jophiel replies gently squeezing both of their hands.

Mara agrees that all present are willing to become tied as family and some flower petals are tossed in the air as everyone cheers and a wonderful party begins to form around them. The party lasts for hours into the day and night. 

Jophiel remembers the next morning dancing and flying with almost everyone at the party and stretches his wings. Erroix and Lenora had decided to nest with him that night and he let out a happy purr, cuddling into his Chosen family.

A few days later Jophiel asks Lenora to help him with waterproofing and touching up the pattern on his wings. Erriox assists the pair for part of the process, but had received a message from some of his Shoal requesting his help with something and had bid the pair of them farewell. Lenora and Jophiel wish Erriox a happy hunt as they watch him leave. 

After the ointment dries, Lenora and he go for a brief flight to search for something to hunt when Jophiel gets a call over his vox. He tells Lenora before heading off in the direction that he was told and to his great joy, some of his fellow Primaris brothers, cousins now due to their assignment, meet up with him halfway.

Claude and Cedric notice the changes in the colorations of Jophiel’s wings and hair, and how much happier he is. They all hug and talk about what they have been up to since the last time they meet as Jophiel guides them to Lenora.

“Cedric, Claude,” Jophiel says, his wings rustling with delight. “This is my mother, Lenora.”

“Your … mother?” They parrot back at him in stunned unison.

“We were forged in the Labs of The Mechanicus,” one of them protests in confusion.

Jophiel lets out a little chuckle and reminds them about adoption being a thing, and tells them about how he met Lenora, Erriox and the other family of his heart that he found on Ancient Terra.

Jophiel states, “I also want you to meet Auntie Mara and some of our, er my, other gannet harpy cousins. They are all so nice and friendly!”

“Are you sure they won't be concerned about strange, large Astartes-mer coming to their roost without warning?” Claude asks. 

“Don't worry, I sent a message ahead that I'm bringing friends over,” Jophiel tells them.

Then Jophiel continues to chatter about Lenora, Mara, Erriox, and the other people that he's surrounded himself with on Ancient Terra. They follow after him, surprised, but glad that Ancient Terra has helped their sometimes timid and terrified brother-cousin come into himself. Both Claude and Cedric are among the few Primaris brothers to know about his wings.

“Auntie Mara!” He calls out, “Come meet Claude and Cedric!”

She and about a dozen and a half of his gannet harpy aunts, uncles, and cousins come swarming out to greet Cedric and Claude. They are happy that he has friends among the mer-astartes and to meet this pair as well, having heard stories about them from Jophiel. Cedric and Claude almost seem overwhelmed, in a good way, with the noise and easy affection.

“My, what are you boys fed to be so large, strong, and handsome?” One of the gannet harpies asks.

That flusters Claude and Cedric a bit as Jophiel laughs and gives a truthfully vague version of an answer with an easy smile. After they finished introductions and getting to know each other, and a playful hunt or two, Jophiel brings them back to meet Erriox, pausing and telling them that The First Born Space Marine is a Loyalist Iron Warrior. Claude and Cedric look at each other uncertainly at hearing about one of the other Very Important People in Jophiel’s life being an Iron Warrior, but they are willing to meet and give him a chance, since he’s a Loyalist. They also know about the Agreement between the various factions of Astartes. They are still half convinced that it’s complete grox manure and it was going to result in the death tolls of trillions.

“Erriox,” Jophiel trills a little at his not-father figure, “I would like you to meet a couple of my fellow Primaris Marines.”

Erriox pauses what he’s doing to look up at the two other ridiculously tall Scout-lings. “Alright.”

“Claude is a Raven Guard and is on my left,” Jophiel introduces and Gestures at one of his oldest friends, “and on my right is Cedric, he is a Black Templar.”

“It's nice to meet you sir,” the other too-big Scout-lings say in almost perfect unison that Erriox almost didn't find them… almost adorable. 

It was surprisingly nice meeting Erriox, he could be a little gruff at times, but the Iron Warrior was a lot kinder to them and to Jophiel than… a lot of the First Born Space Marines when they first arrived to help their elder brothers. Still, Cedric fusses over Jophiel, the Apothecary-trained Astartes looking him over. He’s pleased, and a little surprised at how well Jophiel is. Granted they had only seen the way their brother- er… cousin, interacted with the gannet harpies and his mother, Lady Lenora, neither of them had seen Jophiel so confident with others before. 

It was a good change, and they are glad that he’s more sure of himself and interacting with others more confidently. They understand why he was so… skittish before. Having such a glaring mutation while as a First Generation Primaris Marine had him flagged for harsher punishments, closer scrutiny and censure. Him being a Psyker (and thus getting the training that all known Primaris Psyker had received during their time with the Mechanicum put further restrictions, rules, and additional punishments and discipline and scrutiny. Among the harpies here in Ancient Terra, Jophiel didn’t need to worry about any of that. Nor did he have to hide his wings anymore. 

Learning that Lady Lenora and Erriox are mates, had Claude and Cedric do the same confused head tilt thing that Jophiel had done, when he learned that such a thing was possible. Lenora hadn’t been able to stop herself from laughing. The two Primaris mer-Astartes, despite looking a lot different from her son and her beloved mate, definitely had some similarities in their reactions to things. They are just as unintentionally adorable and charming as Jophiel was! She’s glad that he’s got mer-astartes friends his age, both of the other fledgling Astartes are very sweet in their own ways.

Claude starts to talk about a couple of his older brother Black Templars that have taken him under their tutelage with almost stars in his eyes about How Cool They Are! One of them would become, in the future-past that is to come, a Champion. Lenora doesn’t know what that means but, the impressed looks and noises from Claude and Jophiel, it likely is an important Astartes thing. 

Even Erriox gives her an equally flummoxed look about what a ‘Champion’ is. He’s heard through the Astartes grapevine, about the Black Templars and their… overzealousness, which made him wary, especially for Lenora’s safety. He was surprised by how sweet and gentle Cedric is though. Claude is a quieter sort, but very kind and protective. He’s a battle-brother, one who hasn’t had any specialized training, but for most mer-Astartes, that’s the way of things for most of their active duty careers. They are both good and dutiful Scout-lings in Erriox’s opinion.

Lenora finds Claude and Cedric both sweet and similarly tragically adorable. Part of Lenora wonders if she just might adopt two more sons? At least Cedric seems to have the support he needs, from the way he talks about his Super Cool Older Brothers. Claude seems to be fine to stand on his own, although she’s watched him occasionally stare at Erriox warily, or almost flinch when Erriox moves a little too fast. It saddens her that these fledglings were likely mistreated before they came to ‘Ancient Terra’ as Erriox and Jophiel call Earth. They both seem to be more sure of themselves and not afraid of their own shadows, then Jophiel had been when she first met her son. She’s glad. She’s heard about some of Jophiel’s closer brother-cousins that he had before they’d been sent to different chapters to serve under. Which Lenora had thought was a shame, part of her wondering why they hadn’t all gone to the same chapter. But seeing how different the three of them looked from each other, and knowing that different chapters had different specialties, or so Erriox has said, it made sense why they weren’t kept together after their initial training.

Jophiel nudges Lenora with his wing, getting her attention. The harpy turns to her son, curious.

“Do you think you can adopt my brothers too?” 

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Adopt-A-Jophiel Part 2

Past =-= Next

Author's note: The wonderful @egrets-not-regrets and I collaborated and wrote this part of Jophiel's story in Mermay, where Erriox and Lenora meet and adopt my Primaris Blood Angel Jophiel. Thanks to @egrets-not-regrets for allowing me to borrow the pair of cuties and collaborating on this fic with me! If you haven't already, please go check out @egrets-not-regrets writing they are very good at it! Thank you for @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow Cedric. Also thanks to @kit-williams for letting me borrow Roland and Arnault, they are more mentioned than here. So this is going to be a three parter.

Summary: Jophiel gets to know Lenora, Erriox and gets more help and meets Lenora's Gannet Cousins who just adore him. He learns of ways to change his looks to not look like an identical twin to his dead Primarch.

Warnings: Some negative self talk. No others? Let me know if I need to add more.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams,

Tagged continued: @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k, @ms--lobotomy @bispecsual @thevoidscreams

The day Erriox is to meet Jophiel almost seems to sneak up on them. Jophiel was happy, he’d gotten some excellent fish on the hunt and he’s hoping to share some of them with Lenora as thanks for all that she’s done for him. He’s glad that he ended up on Ancient Terra, he’s learned so much about a lot of different things. He’s humming softly to himself as he checks the skies and his eyes go to the water briefly as he chirps out a hello call to Lenora and flies up to meet her.

“Good morning Lenora,” He says brightly, a lot happier and brighter eyed than when they’d first met. “I got some extra fish on the hunt with Auntie Mara and Layla- and salted them if you’d like to have some of it for yourself.”

He almost doesn’t notice the arrival of the older Astartes. Almost. Lenora and Jophiel had flown and landed on the beach as they discussed terms of trade on his salted fish that he’d caught when he spots the Traitor Marine. In a blur of movement faster than either Lenora or Erriox could catch, he very gently scoops up Lenora and moves her to a safer- and farther inland position before he moves towards the older Astartes with his wings puffed up and he hisses at Erriox. 

“Leave this place traitor!” He spits out, all aggression and Big Scary Fluffing of his wings. His teeth bared and sharp as his wings block Erriox’s view of Lenora.

Lenora has been so kind and patient with him. He will protect her from the treacherous predations of this Iron Warrior! His wings have lifted up and spread out, mantling and fluffing to make him as large as possible as he lets out loud, warning calls. He hadn’t realized that any of his older brothers were so nearby otherwise he’d have moved locations and sent her a message.

“Calm down, Jophiel! It’s fine, Fledgling!” Lenora calls out as she swoops down in front of the defensive Primaris mer, much to his surprise and dismay. 

“What are you doing? Get behind me!” Jophiel hisses to her.

Lenora laughs, shaking her head and continues walking to meet with the Iron Traitor, “This is Erriox, he is my mate. I’m sure I told you about him.”

“You neglected to tell me what he was!” Jophiel protests while his brain catches up to the rest of her sentence, his wings slowly de-mantling and his wings settling on his back as he tilts his head from side to side as he tries to wrap the concept of an Astartes having a Mate with someone. “W-wait you said Mate? There is such a thing?”

As Jophiel eyes the Iron Traitor, who, so far hasn’t tried to hiss, growl or attack him yet. Only has a vaguely amused expression on his face, that only grows more pronounced the longer Jophiel tilts his head at them from side to side in confusion. He knew that mortal beings usually found a mate to bond with, but this was a surprisingly hard concept for him to grasp that First Born Astartes could find and bond with mortals like this. As he looks over the Iron Traitor carefully he notes the lack of Chaos Taint and Mutations that most Iron Traitors have. From the form of armor that he has, he’s been in service since before the Heresy. The venomous spines that the Iron Warrior has on his fins and the colors seem familiar. Some of his fellow Primaris Marines have a lot more yellow and black stripes than others. His is far more subtle and he slowly starts to calm down.

“Have you stared long enough to satisfy your curiosity, scout?” Erriox calls out, amusement tinging his voice. 

Lenora joins his side, apologizing quietly, “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t think he would react that strongly to you.” 

The Iron Warrior mer nuzzles his mate and purrs reassuringly, “It’s fine. You didn’t know.” He knew Astartes from the Fourth legion aren’t necessarily well received, be they Loyalists or not, considering their heavy involvement in Horus’ betrayal. 

Jophiel knew that there were some Social Interaction Things he should be doing. Perhaps he should apologize to the Iron Warrior for hissing and showing him a threat display? His training as a Primaris Marine is roaring in his head that he should attack the Traitor. But- his training also notes that he doesn’t have any Chaos Taint. And, even though he’s thoroughly limited in what he can use and do with his Psykery, he can sense that the Iron Warrior isn’t Chaos Tainted, or hiding that he’s Corrupted by The Four.

“I go by Jophiel,” Jophiel offers the Iron Warrior, “what’s your name?”

“Erriox. What time are you from?” His hand still resting against the harpy’s back. 

“I am from M42, the Primaris Marine Rollout happened two years ago.” Jophiel replies.

“I am from M31.” Jophiel relaxes as his guess was correct. 

Erriox looks up and down at the Primaris marine, quietly assessing him. Jophiel knows what that look means as he stands at attention and awaits his elder cousin's judgment. Jophiel is also quietly assessing Erriox. His elder cousin had the typical First Born Iron Warrior traits and colors.

The much larger Primaris was young, so much younger than he had expected. Outside of the obvious Blood Angel traits, Erriox also notices the venomous spines in the primaris marine’s fins and their faint yellow and black striping. He asks Jophiel, “Outside of Sanguinius, who else contributed to your gene-seed?”

“The Mechanicus, who created the first generation of Primaris Marines, uses a blend of gene-seed from all of the nine Holy Primarchs.” Jophiel reports, it is said as a statement he's been told all his life.

Imperial revisionism has a history that is a Lie about the number of Primarchs to all but the most senior of people within the Imperium. Not that Jophiel knows that as he blinks at Erriox the elder cousin guilelessly.

Nine Primarchs? Erriox guesses that it would be the ones who stayed loyal to the Imperium, but why would Jophiel show Iron Warrior traits then? He knew his gene-father had become a traitor long before the creation of these marines. 

While the Mechanicus knows that they use both Traitor and Loyalist gene-seed in making the Primaris Marines. The Primaris Marines only learn of the Traitor gene-seed within themselves later, after it shows itself in ability or colorations. The Mechanicus had the resources of having Traitor gene-seed in stock to help with the creation of the Primaris, if they only used loyal gene-seed then there would not be as many. Besides, the strengths given to the Primaris by having Loyalist and Traitor gene-seed within them speaks of impressive results that purely Loyalists or Traitor gene-seed lacks. This is knowledge known only to some of the highest echelon of the Imperium. It had taken time and testing to see which ones produced the best results to have Hybrid Vigor, and what needed to be added to stave off hybrid breakdown. They only have so much precious gene-seed, using Traitor gene-seed is a matter of practicality. It's not spoken of out loud, otherwise the Imperial Regent would be duty bound to murder Belisarius Cawl for his Heresy.

“Scout. Do you know who else contributed to your gene-stock?” Erriox repeated, “Or do you not want to know?”

“Knowledge of self means further ability to master one's self,” Jophiel replies. “I would like to know, sir.”

He braces himself for the knowledge, suspecting what Erriox is going to say, but wants confirmation either way.

Satisfied with Jophiel’s answer, Erriox explains, “You have Iron Warrior in you. The venomous spines in your fins and their yellow and black striping are trademarks within our legion.”

Lenora, who had been quiet until now, let out a pleased trill, “I thought he had traits like yours, Erriox.”

Her mate chuckled, “I can see why your gannet cousins called him your son.”

At the mention of the gannet harpies, Jophiel remembers that they did call him “Lenora’s boy” or  “Lenora’s fledgling”, or the even more embarrassing, “Lenora’s secret lovechild”, among all the other pet names they gave him. Not that he minded too much. Lenora had really taken him under her wing and treated him as one of her own after all. And to be fair, he feels more at ease with the harpies than he is with other Astartes-mers. At least he won’t drive them mad with his cursed looks and he could stretch his wings freely when around them. After seeing the older Iron Warrior mer, he kind of understands the lovechild nickname, but he could really do without it though.

Over the next several weeks, Jophiel and Erriox get to know each other as their schedules permit. Since Jophiel isn’t known to any of the Astartes-Mer shoals or pods, he didn’t have duty tasks, merely helping out the more mortal beings around him with various tasks. Fetching various things, lifting or moving very large and/or heavy objects. Listening to Erriox’s stories about his new shoal of brothers and cousins.

“Are all of the brothers in the shoal you are in currently from Older times or are some of them from M42 as well?” Jophiel asks as he fiddles with a block of wood he was carving into a statue that he’d trade some Raven Harpies for some of their Shinies that some of his Aunties had their eye on, but hadn’t had the chance to get a trade for. It was one of their birthdays coming up and he’s hoping to get the trinket for her as a gift. 

“Most of my new shoal are from all across the fraggen timeline in the ‘future’ from this era’s point of view,” Erriox says as he scratches his cheek as he thinks about what the others have said about when and where they were from before coming here, “Some are from as far back as the unification of Terra, to as late as M41.987… If you joined our shoal, you’d be from the furthest in the timeline in M42.”

Jophiel’s glances at Erriox before concentrating on his carving that he’s carefully making as he thinks over the older mer’s offer. He’d been a bit surprised that Erriox had offered a spot in his shoal, despite them being from different gene-lines. Erriox had asked him point blank if he was ever going to join one of the Blood Angel Shoals, or a successor chapter of the Blood Angels any time soon and he’d shrunk in on himself and shook his head.

“No- my… I… do you know what happens if… if a Blood Angel gains wings like these?” Jophiel asks as he gestures to his wings uncomfortably, “Or any other Son of Sanguinius? Especially after the Fall and Death of our Gene-father at the hands of the Arch Traitor may his name be stricken from the memory of all and may he rot in the eternal Four Hells and be torturously eaten for all eternity…”

He blinks and shakes himself out of the tangent he’d gotten lost in and tilts his head at Erriox waiting for the other to answer his question, curious to see what the other new about the… Peculiarities of the Ninth Legion. Jophiel heard from older brothers that certain… genetic flaws and weaknesses of the gene-line weren’t as well known, or reported on in the days before the Heresy… but he found that a bit hard to believe.

“I can’t say I know much about the Ninth Legion,” Erriox replies, other than the stories he’s heard and the rumors that he’s been told. 

They’d been once called the Revenant legion, and had been hideously brutal before their Gene-father had taken over. They still were very… visceral in the ways that they fought, but had gotten a more civilized edge, with their Gene-sire’s involvement with the development in their subculture.

Jophiel takes a deep breath, part of him his screeching that he shouldn’t say anything, but Erriox is an older brother, not just an older cousin. Besides… he’s grown to trust Erriox somewhat. So he explains what he’s been told has happened when a Son of Sanguinius gains the madness-inflicting Angel Wings of their Father. How those that fall for the Trap believe him to Be the Primarch of the Ninth Legion Reborn. It doesn’t work on all of them, and thus those that don’t fall for the madness, resentment mounts and a Schism happens in the chapter, between those that fall for the Pretty Lie, and those that see The Hard Truth. It ends in near total destruction, or complete destruction of the chapter, and the death of the one with wings. It’s a brutal, tragic story that’s happened more than once to various chapters and companies that have the gene-seed of the Ninth Legion. Jophiel always had the wings, rather than them suddenly appearing on his back. He’d also been… blessed? With the ability to touch the Warp and had been taught how to use it. Back in M42 most of what he uses his Psyker powers mainly for is to hide his wings from the sight of others, not wanting to cause insanity and deaths of countless brothers, both First Born and Primaris at the sight of his wings.

“It’s another reason why I keep my hair short,” Jophiel says with a grimace, “I.. The Blood Angels and our Successor Chapters tend to resemble our Holy Primarch a lot more than most other gene-line Chapters do, but I really don’t want to tempt fate by having my hair long.”

He’s thought of taking a weapon to his face- and just ensuring he has a unique scar to mark him from the Holy Primarch’s look. He’d almost done it once, but his brother-cousin Cedric had found him before he’d managed to do that… and the young Apothecary had been So Pissed at him, and had made Jophiel promise not to hurt himself like that. Ever. He’d promised Cedric that he wouldn’t, and Cedric’s eagle-eyed gaze had sharply followed him for a few months, back when they were training on Mars for a while, before the Apothecary had decided he could trust Jophiel’s words. He continues to carve the statue and keeps an eye on Erriox’s reaction to what he’s said. He’s carving an intricate statue of a bird in flight. Also, if he manages to carve it right, it could also be used as a whistle to call prey-birds close to the person who uses it.

Erriox mulls over what his younger brother told him. In some ways it seems hard to believe, but what Jophiel said also matched with the rumors he had previously heard from older Iron Warrior veterans. The early IXth legion had fought battles alongside the IVth, taking on the shitty jobs of purging and bringing the backwater worlds to heel, before the Sanguinius appeared. They were said to be plagued by some genetic curse that caused their legion to be distrusted then. Erriox wasn’t sure what exactly the curse was, but he knew it made them lose control. And among the “newer” Blood Angel cousins, it sounds like a similar curse or a modified version of the old genetic curse remains within their gene-seed. Jophiel is a Blood Angel, and given how wary and at times, almost fearful of himself, it gave Erriox little reason to not believe him. Lenora had talked about how hard it was to get the Scout-ling to open up at the beginning. It was as if he wanted help, but is too scared to seek it from the wrong people. 

“Now that I know more about the other gene-seed traits that I have,” Jophiel says after a few moments of quiet. “I wonder if… if there is a way to enhance the Iron Warrior traits within me? I’d look at least less Blood Angel and perhaps more of an Iron Warrior. Some of my fellow Primaris have more of the Iron Warrior look about them, now that I know what that gene-line looks like. At least my version of the Red Thirst isn’t as strong as some of my fellow Primaris. The Black Rage is something that can be triggered in any of the gene-line of Sanguiniuis.”

"I don't know if that's possible, or how it would work," Erriox says, "Such genetic tinkering and Psykery is beyond me. There aren't many Primaris Marines, or at least few that I know or have heard of. You are the first of the Primaris Marines that I've met."

Jophiel listens to what Erriox says, slumping a little as he continues to carve out the statue-whistle. Erroix thinks for a few moments, "I do know a couple of Thousand Sons Sorcerer Types who owe me a few favors, well, more accurately, my Shoal knows some and has some Favors that we can cash in with them."

Jophiel tenses and looks up at Erroix and asks, "Are they Loyalist, Renegade or Traitor?" 

At the last word he hissed and his wings flared. 

“At ease, Scoutling.” Erriox calmly ordered. 

“Yes sir!” He snaps to attention, as his training takes over. His older cousin blinks, never had a younger brother reacted this strongly and with such swiftness at being so formal? No, formal wasn’t the right word for it. With such swift obedience that his gene-father would be proud of. It was strange to see it here in Ancient Terra. 

Jophiel took a couple of deep breaths and calmed himself and waited for Erriox's response. He was taught that he shouldn’t question Orders, and that he should Obey the Older Brothers and Cousins, because they know better, being so much more experienced, than he is. He shouldn’t have been so hissy with Erriox. Who’s been so patient and kind with him. He knows he shouldn’t push his luck. But Chaos Filth and Renegade Bastards get his temper up fast. It was something he is always working on. Controlling his temper.

Erriox has been, no, he is, so indulgent with him, even with his fuck ups, he’d only ordered him to be at ease. Rather than immediately starting to punish him for being Rude or Stubborn. The Primaris Marines were trained with Obedience and Adherence to Hierarchy a lot more than the First Born, for many reasons that the Mechanicum never told the Primaris Marines. He keeps his words locked behind his teeth, wondering what sort of punishment Erriox will hand out to him. He’d been out of line, after all. After he’s properly punished he wonders what sort of apology the older Astartes-mer will want  from him as recompense for his misbehavior.

And nothing… happened. Only that Erriox waited for him to calm down and fold his wings in again. Jophiel mumbles out an embarrassed apology.

He'd heard from the older Astartes-mer that there is an Alliance between all three factions in the larger pods. But knowing and understanding are two different things. His training and his hearts hurt from thinking that traitors and renegades could ever keep their end of the bargain. He worried that those Traitors and Renegades were only feigning compliance until they could have a better position to murder and make them all suffer. It's what traitors and renegades do after all. Erriox had given him a stern look and had told him of what he could report if he saw... Chaos Shenanigans, as those did happen when the Chaos Traitor Bastards decided to do something Foolish and/or Stupid with the Warp and try to cause no end of suffering. 

“They are Renegades, though it is up to you if you want to subject yourself to their sorcery.” Erriox replied. He paused as another thought came to him, “You can also consider subjecting yourself to harpy magic. Some of their magic can be applied on other species, like their healing magic, as an example. Lenora and the gannet harpies would know more about it.”

With Jophiel’s wings, Erriox guessed that harpy magic may work more effectively in changing their appearance. And given the Primaris marine’s reaction to even the words “Renegade” and “Chaos”, turning to the harpies for help is probably a viable alternative. 

Jophiel was very hesitant and reluctant to go near other mer-astartes. Knowing that they are Renegade Thousand Sons makes him even less willing to go near them. He does brighten at the thought of asking for help from Lenora and some of the gannet harpies with changing his looks to something less cursed. It was a start, at least. And likely far less dangerous and costly than using a Renegade Warp Sorcerer on Ancient Terra, where their warp-craft is far harder to use and costs so much more to use even the smallest fractions of power.

“I think I'd like to talk to Lenora and some of her cousins to see what they can do to help me first before…” He pauses, taking in a deep breath trying to quell his emotions, “before… going to one of the Warp Sorcerers.”

Erriox nodded, “You know where to find them.”

“Yes sir,” Jophiel says with a nod, “Although, I’m trying to figure out what would be suitable gifts or trade for their help I should bring…”

The older mer hummed thoughtfully, “You mentioned that you were looking for shinies for them?”

He nods, “I’ve been making things, and doing work in exchange for shinies, but I don’t think I have enough yet.”

Jophiel has a small satchel full of Shiny rocks, he’d been collecting sea glass, among other very pretty rocks that he’s found. He brings out the  As well as trading for some bits of jewelry. He’s glad for his armor and ability to withstand the Void Sea- as he’s found and carefully cracked open pearl oysters to collect several dozen pearls in a wide variety of colors and shapes. He’s also acquired some mother-of-pearl that he’s carefully harvested and gently polished until it was pearlescent and shiny. He grabs the satchel and rifles through it a little bit before holding it out for Erriox to assess the value of. 

The Iron Warrior mer gives him a small grin, “That is more than enough for your trade. These are not shinies that the gannet harpies can acquire easily. Though it is more likely that the gannets will ask for you to spend more time with them. They had been pestering Lenora about you.”

“Oh?” Jophiel asks, slightly alarmed, but mostly flustered in a happy sort of way. “I didn’t realize they missed me so much.”

“The gannets tend to get attached to those they consider their own relatively quickly.” Erriox shrugged. 

“I have grown fond of them,” Jophiel admits to his older brother a little sheepishly, “they are… a bit Much at times, but they are kind, warm, and friendly.”

Erriox only chuckles. 

Jophiel finds himself back once more at the gannet harpies’ rock. After letting himself be subjected to the harpies’ enthusiastic greetings and adoring attention, he pulls aside his ‘auntie’ Mara, one of the older gannets on the rock. 

She looks at the large mer fondly, “You want to ask me about something, Fledgling?”

“Yes Auntie Mara,” Jophiel blinks and nods, he wonders how she can tell that he wants to ask her something, but he guesses it’s likely due to her greater life experience and knowledge of how other beings around her work. “I was wondering if you, or someone, or maybe more than one person? I’m not sure how Harpy magic works-”

Oh Throne, he’s rambling. He needs to get to the point, “I-I was wondering if you knew of someone who can help me- or anyone else, with permanently changing one’s appearance.”

The gannet harpy listens patiently, before sighing, “Now why would you want to change your appearance? You have such beautiful wings.”

He flinches, he hates it when people comment on his wings, “They are a curse that can, has and will drive other Mer-astartes of my gene-line to murderous madness if they see them.”

He’s completely and utterly serious. He’s been told anecdotal stories of what happens when Blood Angels, or those of the other successor chapters of the Ninth Legion gain wings and their brothers learn of it. It ends in copious amounts of blood, tears, death, and culling.

Mara considers his words carefully before asking, “Is it the sight of your wings that drives others mad or the fact that they are large white wings that is triggering this madness?”

“It’s a combination of the color, size and my face and hair,” Jophiel says after struggling for a few moments before, talking, in general terms, about The Black Rage and The Red Thirst and how the Death of Their Gene-Sire affected the Ninth Legion, no matter what age and Era they are from.

“That is troublesome indeed.” She nods. 

Jophiel nods, it’s one of the reasons why he keeps his hair cut so short. Why he avoids most mer-astartes aside from Erriox. Erriox, Jophiel’s hoping he’s convinced not to say anything, but other mer-astartes? They might assume he’s someone he’s not. And if they don’t think he’s his gene-sire they will gossip about the Blood Angel with The Great Angel’s rarest blessing. And thus, stir up the madness in the ninth legion. At least there are Blood Angels from eras Before the Horus Heresy. They were… more stable? Sort of. Then Blood Angels created during and post-Heresy. They only had the Red Thirst to deal with.

“Unfortunately there is nothing to permanently change one’s appearance, short of permanently mutilating ourselves.” Mara says. Jophiel’s wings droop as the thought of possibly having to ask the Renegade Warp Sorcerers sink in. 

The gannet harpy nudges him gently, “Don’t look so glum, fledgling. There are other temporary ways of changing your appearance that would last a fairly long time so long as you are diligent in its maintenance.”

That made the despondent mer feel a little better. Mara smiles as she explains, “You can change the shape and color of your wings, and possibly your hair. While it is not ideal as you will be damaging your flight feathers, you can use a blade to shape the edges of your wings.” 

She opened her wings, long and tapered, “Since you have larger broader wings, you can, to some degree, make them more tapered like mine. However, I can’t make mine look like yours for obvious reasons.”

“Another option is to change the color of your wings.” Mara turns to rummage through a nearby chest of supplies and pulls out a covered urn and places it in the mer’s hands, “This ointment is a mix of harpy magic and ingredients that we use to change the color of our feathers. It also has the same waterproofing quality to it as our normal oils. For us, it lasts about six months before reapplication is required. Only if you regularly preen and waterproof your feathers. Otherwise, reapplication sooner might be needed.”

Jophiel opens the urn and nearly recoils from the strong odor. The old gannet harpy laughs, “Yes, you should remember to apply it in an open area with ample sunlight. The light will help cure the color onto your feathers. And that also will help with the smell. You should have someone with you to help you with both shaping and coloring to make things easier.”

“Also, a little goes a long way.” She reminds him. 

“Is there something you want in trade for this Auntie?” Jophiel asks gently cradling the container closer, he’ll learn to withstand the smell if it helps him not look like a dead Holy Primarach. “A-and could you help me apply the ointment for the first time, please?”

Mara taps the ground in front of her with a webbed foot, “You are in luck that it is sunny on the rock today. Sit or lay down in front of me and I can help you. As for payment, come accompany us to go fishing. Your presence greatly helps in forming bait balls of fish to catch and keep monster predators at bay. Also, don’t be a stranger and visit the rock more often, your cousins have been wondering where you disappeared to.”

“That seems more than fair.” Jophiel nods, then explains where he has been, “I was meeting and training with Erriox and helping him hunt sometimes… as well as finding Shiny Things.”

“That’s good. Shiny things? What kind of shiny things have you found?” 

“Pearls, pretty rocks and sea glass,” Jophiel reports as he rifles through one of his satchels and shows her some of his Best Shiny Things. Mara whistles, impressed with his collection, “Keep them close. You can trade very valuable things and information for them with the right trader. Alright, now sit down and let’s see what we can do.”

He nods and carefully sits down, setting the urn next to him and carefully spreading out his wings listening to her instructions. Mara hummed as she carefully spread the ointment over Jophiel’s feathers with practiced claws. 

Jophiel is glad that he’s so helpful with catching prey and keeping nastier things away from the Gannets. They’ve helped him a lot, and he’s glad to be able to repay them in some way. Such kindness is something he’s not had much of and he doesn’t want to take advantage of it, or seem ungrateful for all the help and kindness they have given him. Ancient Terra has its own problems and difficulties, of which he doesn’t diminish at all, but Ancient Terra truly seems like a paradise, compared to what he’s had to deal with in his Era of Origin.

Mara finishes with the back and tuts at Jophiel to get him to move. They have the other side of his wings to do. She shows him how to apply the ointment on his wings. The fledgling is a dutiful boy. Very clever and quick on the uptake for new tasks. Sometimes a bit too serious, but he’s gotten a lot happier the longer he’s been with them.

Jophiel opened his eyes, he hadn’t realized he’d closed them and had started purring a little, half asleep as someone he trusted was almost-grooming his wings. He shifts when she tells him to move slowly, getting up and flexing his wings a little, before helping to get the other side of his wings done. The smell makes his eyes water and he blinks and carefully applies the ointment. He’ll learn to get used to smell, he’s learned to get on with a lot of things in his life. Most of them are deeply unpleasant in one way or another.

Under Mara’s instructions, Jophiel copies her on his left wing while she works on his right. Once they were done, Mara asked the mer if he wanted to try to color his hair similarly too. The gannet harpy laughs when Jophiel wrinkles his nose, but the mer eventually agrees to the experiment. She rubs the ointment into his hair and scalp, hoping that even when his hair starts growing out, it will take on the color of the dye. All he needed to do now is just sit a little longer in the warm sun and wait for the dye to finish curing. 

“You will visit Lenora soon?” The harpy asks him. 

Jophiel nodded, “Yes, my plan is to visit her tomorrow.”

“That’s perfect.” Mara drew out another small container, “Please pass this onto her. This is extra waterproofing oil. You should let her preen your feathers with it to really set the colors in.”

Jophiel took the container, feeling incredibly grateful, “Thank you Auntie Mara! Thank you for everything.”

He looks into the water to see what he looks like. He brightens up at the fact that he no longer looked like a living statue of his dead gene-sire. The patterning on the wings reminded him of someone he cares for, admires, and looks up to quite strongly. He can't quite place who it is though, it will come to him in time, he's sure of that.

“Thank You so much for your help Auntie Mara!” he trills to her with a happy purr.

[sleepyfan-blog]

Introductions

Author’s Note: This is the next part of Cedric’s adventures in the Husbandry AU! A big thanks to @kit-williams for allowing me to borrow her ocs Arnault, Roland, Angela and Backerin! Masterlist here

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @i-am-a-dragon34 @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@c-u-c-koo-4-40k

Warnings: Mentions of Petras and his bullshit, please ask me to tag something if I missed it/somethign bothers you

Summary: Cedric introduces Pallius and Olivar to Roland, Arnault and their bonded humans. 

“Olivar, Pallius how are you doing today?” Cedri asked curiously as he watched how two still-healing Brothers carefully stretch and limber up for the low-intensity physical training class that they were going to be participating in later today.

“... Pretty good. Why? Are they going to torment us with some other kinds of boring, basic exercises while not letting us outside of the base?” Olivar grumbled, a surly frown appearing on his face as he slowly eased himself through the leg stretches that he’d been ordered to use. Why the micromanaging bastards thought all of this was necessary when he’d been left to tend punishment-inflicted wounds on his own before, and had managed well enough on his own, thank you very much… The young Black Templar did not know. On the other hand, Cedric did say that his wounds had killed him in M42. 

“Are they concerned that Ancient Terra is so perilous that we need to be at our absolute best, when outside of the base? I know the legends say that cruel and mad sorcerer-kings fought over dominion of HOly Terra for years uncounted before He smote them  and the false idols they worshipped as Gods… But I thought that had been during The Long Night… Has Humanity already scattered across the stars?” Pallius asked, his blue-brown eyes shining with curiosity and nervousness in equal measure.

Cedric hesitated before answering “THe chief apothecary is limiting your movements in order to ensure that you both are healing correctly. There… As for the dangers of Ancient Holy Terra… The most dangerous threat to us as Astartes are the similarly time-displaced renegade and Heretic Astartes. However their witch-bond connection to the Warp is significantly reduced, and using the Warp for unnatural acts is much harder. In part due to the fact that the Eye of Terror does not exist at this point in time. At this time, only Holy Terra holds Humanity.”

“.. Does that mean that there are only three major ruinous powers at the moment?” Olivar asked, straightening out of his stretch, a curious expression appearing on his face “Why do our hosts -who are allegedly loyalists too, suffer traitors and worse to live?  The heretics could corrupt the mortals of this time. Why would they allow-” Olivar stood up, agitated and worried, starting to pace around “Is that why you’re being so cautious in what you tell us, Cedric? What… what bargains have you made in order to ensure that the supplies and time we are luxuriating in using to heal?”

Cedric blinked, reaching out to try and placate his easily riled brother “There are maybe upwards of five-hundred thousand Astartes total on Ancient and Holy Terra. There are less than ten billion mortals total on Ancient  Terra. Luna and Mars have yet to be colonized… Much less the Jovian shipyards and supporting moon colonies to be built. I have been told that should an all-out war happen between the different Astartes factions, it would only devastate humanity in it’s infancy and sabotage everything we stand for and wish to protect.”

“And what about the heretics and their corrupting natures? Or have the firstborns who run things not told you?” Pallius chimed in, visibly concerned. He had also stopped stretching, the information his brother was telling them was too important not to give his full and undivided attention to.

Cedric sighed “I have been told that there is a treaty in place that goes over those questions and a great many other concerns. Chaos and Witchery in general is much more difficult to use and reach here and now. I’ve been told this repeatedly… And both Claude and Jophiel agree with that, that Witchery is much harder to use.”

“Who else is here, that we know?” Oliver asked curiously, mind racing. He wasn’t sure how much he trusted the information about Witchery, but he could tell that Cedric was telling him the truth as he knew it.

“Alive? Ramiel, Olly, and…” Cedric swallowed hard “Chaplain captain Petras. The Honorable Chaplain leads a small band of Firstborn Brothers and wanders as the God Emperor wills them to. Dead? Malachai and Lestras. THey also arrived on Ancient Terra Badly injured… Unfortunately, they were too injured to survive their wounds, despite best efforts to keep them alive.”

The three of them weren’t the only ones in this training room - there were about a dozen or so injured Firstborn Brother-Cousins in groups of three to six, being monitored by an apothecary or well-trained mortal as they stretched and went about their exercises. The chance that their conversation might be overheard was very high, so the young Apothecary was trying to hint to his fellow Primaris Brothers to choose their words carefully without saying or signing such outright, and potentially get more scrutiny placed on them. Cedric had already been dodging the questions about why and how so many of the primaris Black Templars were arriving on Ancient Terra with the same kinds of injuries and state of near-death.

“Ugh. Of course he is here. Is he as much of a heavy-handed bastard here as he is at home?” Olivar asked with the tact the God-Emperor gave a buzzfly. 

Cedric silently whispered a prayer of protection, grace and patience before answering with as much neutrality as he could conjure in his voice “Olivar… Your bluntness gets you into trouble… Please take care with how you speak.”

Pallisu whacked Olivar on the back of the head lightly at the same time “Olivar! You can’t say that out loud about a chaplain! You’re going to get all of us doing penitent punishment for weeks, if not longer.”

“I want my question answered!” Olivar pouted, glaring up at both of them “And you both know I”m right about him.”

“... I haven’t had the opportunity to interact with him directly yet. I haven’t been on Ancient Terra for very long, and he rarely visits this base.” Cedric hedged before changing the subject “However there are a couple of firstborn Brothers who live here in town. I like and respect them both quite a bit.”

“... Like you respect Apothecary Xonfreid… Or like us and Ramel?” Pallisu asked, covering his mouth with one hand as he asked quietly, his voice barely a whisper. Uncertain hope flickered across his face.

“Hrmph. Just who are these Older Brothers? Why do they stay in one place?” Olivar huffed, not wanting to get his hopes up.

“Battle Brother Roland Lichtner is bonded to Miss Becky, who is very nice. She makes baked goods for a living. Do you remember the brot that I shared with you two last week?” Cedric began, suppressing a mischievous grin with difficulty. 

“That was the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten. Of course I remember the bread.” Olivar answered, wistful “I want more…”

“Yeah, the taste! The texture! It was almost overwhelming in a good way. You called it sourdough?” Pallius answered, grinning.

“Miss Becky made that loaf of sourdough herself.” Cedric revealed. “As for the other Older Brother… He is bonded to Miss Angela. She’s a quiltmaker and I think a seamstress as well? Do you remember that weighted quilt that I brought over for us to huddle together under during the thunderstorm yesterday?”

“Yeah.” Pallius answered quietly.

Olivar nodded silently, shuddering a little at the memory of the horrible sounds that the thunder had made. “Wait… The renowned sniper, Roland Lichtner?”

Pallius’ eyes widened. He had been undergoing training in M42 as a Sniper -while Glorious Melee was best, he had a steady aim and a good eye - and besides. The Cowardly Xenos and bastard Heretics used long-range, and so a certain number of Brothers were chosen to learn to use similar but sanctified weapons in order to pick them off before they downed their melee brothers. “He… He lives here?” He saw the other as an exemplar of what it was to be a Black Templar Sniper. 

“He does! In the town, not specifically on base.” Cedric explained, a grin on his face, watching Pallius’ eyes light up with awe and delight.

“You mentioned a second Firstborn Brother? And his… Bonded? What do you mean by bonded?” Olivar asked curiously.

Cedric quickly explains what he understands of Bonding, before revealing “Miss Angela is bonded to Brother Arnault Wach. She’s the one who made that lovely quilt.”

“As… As in Emperor’s Champion Arnault Wach?” Olivar asked, his voice a startled squeak.

Cedric nodded, still grinning “Do you want to meet them? I’ve been given permission to take the two of you off base and to meet brothers Roland und Arnault and their bonded?”

“... Today? Now-ish?” Olivar asked, voice still shaky, eyes wide.

Cedric nodded “We’d have to walk over to where they are, but ja. I was thinking we’d go to the Bakery first, talk to bruder Roland und his Bonded, get something to eat - don’t worry, I have enough local currency for the three of us and then head over to Bruder Arnault’s und his Bonded’s home.” He looked them both other “Unless you’re not feeling up to it? They want to meet you. Oh! We’re not supposed to tell Brother Arnault he’s an Emperor’s Champion, as he was pulled from a time before he became one.”

“Oh… That makes sense.” Pallius hummed, nodding a little. “I’d like to shower first, and change into the nicer set of civilian clothes that were given to me, but otherwise I’m ready to meet them.”

Olivar nodded “I would like a bit of time to prepare, but I am ready to face - er. Meet them today as well.”

Cedric nodded, smiling a little. He’d asked Ramiel if he wanted to come on this trip too, but the young Judicar was busy with training today. “Alright. Meet you at the front desk in an hour?”

The other two Primaris Black Templars agreed, before heading off to their assigned rooms to get clean and changed.

~

It was a pleasantly sunny day, and Cedric was unsurprised to find that the bakery had a line of eager and hungry mortals waiting to purchase their baked goods that stretched out of the door. He gestured for Pallius and Olivar to join him at the back of the line, humming a little to himself.

Thankfully, despite the length of the line, it moved swiftly, and soon the three Primaris Marines found themselves within the charmingly decorated and mouth-wateringly delicious smelling shop. Many of the baked goods had been sold out, but what was remaining still looked and smelled amazing.

The mortal behind the payment counter spotted the three of them and briefly headed into the back of the shop, followed back into the main room by Roland, who smiled a little as he spotted Cedric, his gaze looking over the other two Pimaris Marines curiously. He walked over to the three of them and murmured “Hallo Cedric Are these two Olivar und Pallius?”

Cedric nodded, beaming as he gently laid a hand on the slightly shaking Pallius’ shoulder “Ja! This is Pallius.” he paused for a moment before nudging Olivar “Und this is Olivar.”

Neither one of his fellow Primaris Brothers spoke for several seconds, their eyes wide, their breathing fast and shallow. Cedric silently nudged both of them and Pallius spoke up first “It’s an honor to meet you, sir. Cedric had us try some of the sourdough that is made and sold here. It’s very good.”

Roland’s eyes lit up “A fellow bread lover! Ja, mein beloved’s broten has no equal in this or any other world! Come, follow me, the three of you. She has been just as curious about the two of you as I have been. She is busily working away, kneading.”

“Yessir.” Olivar and Pallius answered at the same time, dutifully following after the Older Brother. 

Cedric grinned as he followed them as well, calling out as soon as they were close “Hallo miss Becky!”

The short human woman set down the bag of flour that she’d been carrying and rushed over, hugging him as best as she could manage “Hello, Cedric! Are these your newly arrived brothers?”

Cedric nodded, beaming “Ja! This is Pallius und this is Olivar.” He explained, gesturing to his brothers in turn, gently hugging her back. 

She let him go and went up on her tiptoes, peering up at the two newcomers “You two certainly do look like Cedric’s brothers. Come closer, please. I promise not to bite.”

“Careful, my love. They are both injured from whatever they’d been up to before they arrived here on Terra. I believe that Pallius has fractured ribs, und the reason why Olivar is holding his left arm like that is because of broken bones as well.” Roland hummed, staring directly at Cedric as he said that.

Cedric could hear the silent question in the older Black Templar’s voice, but he needed to talk privately with his fellow Primaris marines before they decided what it was they were going to tell the others here. “They are well enough to take short trips out of the base, though.”

Olivar was the first to move closer to the mortal woman, both guarded and curious “Hallo miss Becky. Your sourdough is very tasty. What are those pale lumps of matter you were squishing when we came in?”

She gave him a quick side hug before taking a half-step back “That’s called a dough… Olivar, is it?” Miss Becky gives a quick explanation as to what dough is, and the process of turning dough into bread, a slight blush appearing on her face as she finished with a quiet “Ah… My apologies. You probably didn’t want that much information about such things…”

Pallius looked genuinely fascinated, and Olivar had drifted over to one of the lumps of dough, a focused expression on his face.

“Please don’t say that! I was finding your lecture to be both interesting and quite informative! We weren’t taught how to make food like this - basic foraging, yes. But nothing so technical.” Pallius answered, blue-brown eyes shining with fascination. 

“So you just.. Squish the bread? Und it makes it stronger and tastier?” Olivar clarified, looking very much like he was seconds away from poking one of the lumps of dough sitting out on the counter with a finger.

“If you want to help knead the dough, you must first wash your hands und ask.” Roland drawled, walking over and lightly nudging Olivar over to the sink “Would you mind if the ducklings helped us for a little while?”

“Not in the least! Their help would be quite timely, given the massive line of people we have out of the door, and the dough that requires kneading.” Miss Becky answers with a sigh “If you three are willing to help, of course. If you don’t want to, I won’t insist.”

“But we want to help.” Cedric, Pallius and Olivar answered at the same time, turning to peer hopefully down at the mortal baker. 

Cedric paused for a moment before saying “I can show them how to use not too much of their strength, and cause the dough to tear - und how to mold it into two pieces, if it does accidentally tear.”

Miss Becky beamed and nodded “Thanks, Cedric! You’re a lifesaver. Now I’ve got to get these croissants in the oven.” One of the timers went off, startling Olivar and Pallius with the loudness.

Roland went over to the oven and pulled out several very hot loaves of bread, setting them carefully on the cooling rack “I will help with that, mein schatz.” 

Cedric gestured for Pallius and Olviar to join him at the sink, showing them how to properly wash their hands in order to get ready for kneading the dough. He showed them the proper technique, letting them get a feel for the strength required for the repetitive task, and what they were looking for, for when the bread was ready to be baked.

Both Olivar and Pallius listened and watched carefully, doing their best to mimic what he was doing.

Miss Becky had been kind enough to give them a loaf of freshly cooled banana bread for the three of them to share, after the couple of hours they had spent kneading loaf after loaf of bread into being ready to be cooked, cooled and sold. 

Cedric had texted Arnault as the three of them were leaving the bakery on the communication device he’d been given [We are on our way. Do I need to to give you some more time?]

Cedric was well aware of the fact that Arnault loved his bonded very much, and enjoyed flirting with and touching her whenever he could get away with it. Sometimes that would escalate and Arnault would steal away his bonded to kiss and do… Things with her that the young Apothecary had only heard of in theory and did not want to think about in depth in conjunction with his honored elder brother, thank you very much. Also Arnault had asked him to text before hand for those kinds of reasons.

[Mein Engel and I are ready for guests. She is finishing up a project for a client, und I am helping her by holding up the last part of what needs sewing together. The front door is unlocked, just knock before coming in.] Arnault answered promptly.

Cedric nodded to himself on instinct as he sent back [Understood. We should be there in twenty minutes or so.]

~

Cedric led Olivar and Pallius to Arnault’s and Angela’s home, pausing at the front door, realizing that both of them were standing and staring at the house from the sidewalk. He sighed silently and walked back over to his brothers, voice gentle and coaxing “We’re nearly there. He’s a wonderful big brother, I promise.”

“He… He’s an Emperor’s Champion… Well, will be, from his standpoint. Are… Are we worthy to be in his presence?” Pallius asked, uncertainty causing his voice to shake a little.

Olivar shuffled alongside Pallius, unwilling to voice his own concerns, but nodding along to what Pallius said.

Cedric took in a deep breath and gently held one of Olivar’s and Pallius’ hands, squeezing gently, and answered “We are worthy. Each of us is as valuable as a firstborn brother of our rank and standing. He’s looking forward to meeting you, as is his bonded. I wouldn’t ask you to meet someone who I don’t trust while you’re still healing.”

“... Okay. Let’s do this, then.” Olivar answered, a determined expression appearing on his face as he took in a deep breath and did his best to center himself.

Pallius nodded, taking a couple of moments to center himself as well before saying “Okay… I’m ready. Let’s… Let’s go meet them, then.”

Cedric nodded, smiling encouragingly at his brothers as he led them over to the front door, knocking and then entering as he’d been asked. He informed the other two “It’s considered rude to walk around in their home walking in the shoes that we were walking around outside in. Outside shoes go in this bin over here, and there are guest slippers here, unless you want to walk around barefoot, or in your socks, both of which are acceptable as well.” he took off his own shoes and put them away properly, content to meander about the house in his socks.

Pallius and Olivar obediently took off their shoes and placed them in the correct bin. Neither elected to take a pair of the astartes-sized guest slippers and Olivar also took off his socks, pairing them and placing them in his shoes, so that they wouldn’t get lost. 

Cedric called out “We’re here!” loud enough so that his voice would carry throughout the house, while also not being too loud so as to accidentally cause alarm.

“Come on in!” Miss Angela called out, closer than he’d anticipated her voice to sound “Arnault and I are in the living room, finishing up a project. Please don’t step on the fabric, when you come into the room.”

“Yes ma’am.” Cedric responded, smiling a little as he carefully led his brothers into the living room, carefully picking his way over to where she was sitting and sewing - Arnault carefully holding onto the fabric she was stitching together in order to help keep it steady. “This is Pallius - he’s the one with the slightly darker eyes and hair - and this is Olivar. He’s shorter and -”

“I am less than five inches shorter than the both of you!” Olivar sulked, sending a grumpy pout Cedric’s way “I am well within standard parameters. The fact that I am more compact only means that I can move in more cramped areas better than you two.”

“- grumpy.” Cedric finished with a teasing grin on his face.

“I’d offer you boys some tea, but I’m a little busy at the moment, and so is Arni.” Angela responded, looking up from her work and looking at the three of them. “Goodness! Look how lovely you all are. And there’s no shame in being shorter than others, Olivar. Don’t let the talls bully you! You’re wonderful just the way you are.”

Olivar - who had started to wind up at Cedric’s gentle teasing - deflated a little, blinking in utter shock and mild surprise, struck silent by her words.

Pallius blinked twice and took a half-step forward to cover his Brother’s shock “I’m sure Vie will thank you for your words once he finds his tongue again. None of us have much experience interacting with baselines, and Olivar is not great at making first impressions.”

“Hey! I am… Adequate at socialization!” Olivar pouted, content to be half-hidden behind his larger brothers. He was trying not to be overwhelmed and mostly succeeding. 

“Ja, of course you are, Vie.” Cedric hummed, gently patting his grumpy brother a little, trying to suppress the grin that threatened to appear on his face. “I could start the electric kettle, if you wanted?” He offered.

“That would be lovely, thank you Cedric. It’s in it’s usual spot in the kitchen.” Miss Angela answered with a smile. She then looked to Olivar and Pallius “Please, come sit down, there are a couple of chairs not buried under fabric you can use.”

“Yes ma’am.” Pallius murmured, carefully moving so as to not disturb the fabric in the room.

Olivar fidgeted a little. One of his legs was still on the mend and he had a slim cast that fit under the clothes he was wearing. He wasn’t sure if he had the dexterity to make it across the room without stumbling over the fabric and didn’t want to get into trouble, so he stayed at the entrance of the room. He did lean against the door frame on his good leg. “If you don’t mind, ma’am, I’ll stay here.”

“If you’re sure… There are a couple of chairs free…” Miss Angela pointed out.

“I don’t mind standing, ma’am.” Olivar answered, which was a partial truth.

Arnault hummed a little “There is a sturdy enough folding chair in the closet in the hallway you walked through. Sit, lad. I can smell the pain you’re in from your broken leg.”

Angela gasped a little, a worried frown on her face “You walked all the way here on a broken leg without crutches? Honey, do we have any astartes-grade painkiller? You must be so sore, you poor dear. Hang on, let me move some of this fabric out of the way, so you can sit properly.”

“I… Uhm. I’ll be fine, ma’am. I don’t want to interrupt your work.” Olivar deflected awkwardly.

“Nonsense! It’s easier if the quilt is all laid out like this, but it isn’t strictly necessary. Arni, love, help me move things?” Angela tutted, shaking her head a little.

Arnault nodded, knowing how and where to move the fabric to, before giving Olivar a quick once over and a quiet order “Come here and sit down, Olivar.” He made sure that his voice was gentle, but firm, to brook no argument from foolish apprentices. 

“Yes sir.” Olivar responds, obediently reacting to the tone of command, doing his best to move as carefully as he could manage, sitting down on the far edge of the couch. Some of the pain leaving him, as he was able to get his weight off of his injured leg. “What is it that you are making?” Olivar asked, curiously as he looked at the fabric around him. It looked to be deliberately and expertly stitched together, some of it dyed different colors in a lovely pattern.

Miss Angela grinned as she briefly looked to Arnault before answering “I am making a weighted quilt. I recently finished making one, and this one should be finished by the end of the month. What do you two think of this one?”

Pallius answered first and earnestly “I think your client is very lucky to receive this uilt. I can tell this is expertly made, and the quality is so much better than the thin blankets we were allotted aboard The Sigismund.”

Olivar nodded in agreement “I can’t imagine the time and effect that you put into making this. It is a beautiful piece of art, ma’am.”

Miss Angela seemed to lose the ability to speak for several seconds, blinking rapidly before setting down the needle and finely spun thread and reached out to gently cup one of Olivar’s cheeks “That is such a sweet thing to say, both of you, thank you.”

“Yeah… Cedric’s so lucky to have one of these…” Pallius sighed “It was so comfortable to snuggle together, during the thunderstorm yesterday. Olivar and I were still pretty out of it and…”

“The thunder reminded us of artillery fire in the worst ways. Bad memories and heavy pain killers are an awful combination.” Olivar grumbled, pouting a little though he leaned into her gentle touch, trying to blink back treacherous tears that threatened to fall. He’d never been touched this gently by someone who wasn’t a Brother or a Cousin before and he had no idea how to react. He had no idea how much a quilt like the one Cedric had cost, but he planned on getting money and the supplies necessary to create such a thing and ask Miss Angela to make one for him. Cedric would probably know what to get and how much it cost. Ramiel too, as both of them had those wonderful quilts. He planned on asking for one for Pallius first, as a surprise gift for his only surviving squadmate. 

Cedric came back into the room with one mortal sized mug and four astartes sized mugs in his hands, along with several bright orange fruits that smelled sweet. “I’ve got drinks and a snack for everyone.” He passed both the fruits and the mugs around,c careful to avoid stepping on the fabric. 

Pallius curiously inspected the orange fruit that he’d been given. It had bright, smooth skin and smelled faintly sweet and floral. He didn’t recognize it at all “What is this?” He asked curiously as he brought the fruit up to his lips and carefully took a small bite.

“These are persimmons. They should taste sweet and have a slight drying effect on the tongue.” Arnault explained, an amused smirk appearing on the older Black Templar’s face as he took a bite of the fruit.

Olivar was put off by the slightly grainy texture of the flesh of the fruit, and the flavor was odd to him as well. But everyone else seemed to be enjoying their fruit and he wasn’t one to turn down food when it was offered to him freely, so he quickly ate the rest of the persimmon, washing down the taste and texture with the tannic-tasting tea. It was amazing to learn just how much variety of foods there was on ancient and holy Terra… And overwhelming to the young Astartes, who was used to the carefully created and bland tasting nutrient pastes, ration bars and similar such food-stuffs that were made to sustain the Adeptus Astartes. 

“Is the persimmon not to your liking, Olivar?” Miss angela asked, sounding concerned.

Olivar blanked in surprise. He’d tried to keep his mild distaste for the strange fruit from being obvious. “It’s… Very different from what I’m used to, ma’am. But I did finish it.” Olivar answered, resisting the temptation to fidget with the mug in his hands. 

“Persimmons can be an acquired taste. I was given these by a neighbor who has a persimmon tree that is fruiting heavily this year. I’ve also seen the start of the Zucchini Shenanigans season earlier this week.” Angela hummed, smiling a little.

“I will be on guard, to ensure that we are not ambushed by too many squash. THey are tasty, but too many at once to eat before they spoil is… Vexing.” Arnault rumbled shaking his head a little.

Pallius silently wondered what the two of them were referring to. He looked to Olivar silently, who shrugged, equally confused before they both silently looked to Cedric, in hopes that he would offer them some kind of explanation.

“Free, fresh vegetables are always welcome at the base, should you be gifted with more zucchini than you can eat before it goes bad.” The young apothecary offered “Also miss Becky recently taught me how to make zucchini bread, which I find to be quite tasty, though on the sweet side.”

“Was that the soft brown bread with the spices you fed us earlier this week?” Olivar asked curiously, eyes widening in recognition. “You made like… Ten loaves of the stuff and we had to hide them from nosy firstborn brothers while they cooled, so that they could be used in trade.”

“Those were indeed Zucchini bread.” Cedric confirmed with a small grin.

“What did you end up trading that Zucchini bread for, anyways?” Pallius asked curiously, head tilting a little at his apothecary Brother “You mentioned that you’d made them specifically to be used in trade, which is why we hid them from hungry Older Brothers.”

Cedric’s eyes shone brightly with a playful kind of mischief “Something that I wanted and knew I could get with the proper application of sweet tasting breads.”

“I suppose that’s Cedric for “I’m not gonna tell you” then?” Olivar grumbled, pouting a little “Is there a particular reason you won’t tell us? Or are you practicing Secret Keeping?”

Cedric chuckled, his eyes still shining brightly with playful mischief “I’m not telling~! If you need to find out, you will in time.”

“Fine.” Pallius sighed, pouting a little that Cedric wouldn’t tell them but not willing to try and push the issue… At least not in front of the firstborn and his bonded. 

“... Why would you need to practice keeping secrets?” Miss Angela asked curiously, as she had finished eating her persimmon and had gone back to stitching the quilt together.

All three young Astartes looked at one another uncertainly before looking to Brother Arnault. They weren’t quite sure what parts of astartes training they were allowed to speak of, and what was to be kept silent on. 

Arnault chuckled “Basic astartes training leaves many young ones to be quite blunt und direct with their words and methods of speaking. Some missions require a degree of… Hrm. Subtlety and discretion, so we have the young ones practice how to Keep Secrets with low-stakes items and information that they are told to hide for a certain length of time, so that they know how to do so when it matters.”

“Ah, I see. I suppose that makes sense…” Angela hummed, nodding a little. “How long have you two been on Earth?”

“... I’m not sure, ma’am. But not longer than a month or two at most? I was brought to the base pretty badly injured because of… Uhm. Reasons, and I’ve been in recovery after they stitched my wounds closed, ma’am.” Pallius answered, shifting a little “This is the first time I’ve left the base since arriving, actually.”

Olivar nodded “I think I've been here for about three weeks at most? Maybe a month, by the way you figure the days and nights.” It was by unspoken agreement that they were not going to explain precisely how and why they had acquire their grievous wounds - the firstborns had assumed that they’d been nearly killed by Chaos Astartes from the kinds of weapons their wounds had been inflicted by… Which while untrue, was close enough to the truth to be functional. “From what little I have seen of Ter-err Earth, it’s a beautiful world.”

“It can be a beautiful place to live… Though I can’t help but wonder what it’s like to wander the stars, as Arni has occasionally told me he’s done. What’s it like to explore other worlds?” Angela asked, a soft sigh leaving her.

The three Primaris marines glanced at each other before looking to Arnault, unsure how to answer her question, each shifting uncomfortably. While it was possible that some of the many worlds that they had visited during their tenure as Astartes had once been beautiful, most of that beauty had been blasted and perverted into misery and suffering by the enemy they had been sent to fight. 

“We’re not supposed to talk about what we did before we came to Earth, my love.” Arnault reminded her, voice gentle as he gave his Angela a kiss on the lips that caused all three of his baby brothers to fluster and turn away, to give them a bit of privacy, their ears burning bright red. 

Angela kissed him back, a soft hum in her voice “Very well then, I won’t ask more about it. I wouldn’t want to get any of you into trouble for prying into your mysterious pasts.” 

Cedric’s phone chimed, as a reminder went off. He looked at the notification and sighed “Vie, Palli, we need to get going back to base soon, or they’ll start sending out search parties for us and we’ll be grounded for wandering around too long without a check-in.”

Olivar grumbled “Can’t we check in via vox?”

Cedric shook his head “No, we need to check-in in-person, because you and Pallius are injured.”

Pallius sighed and nodded “Very well then. I suppose it makes sense…” He got up and saluted Arnault and Miss Angela on instinct “Thank you for your time, tea and the fruit.” He started to carefully make his way across the floor. 

Olivar also got up and saluted the two of them, hiding the pained wince as his weight was partially on his broken leg once again “Thank you sir, ma’am.” and hobbled out of the room as gracefully as he could manage.

“Alright, you boys stay safe, alright?” Miss Angela answered with a small smile and a nod, leaning a little into Brother Arnault as she spoke.

“Heal well, und try not to get into too much mischief. At least not without me or Roland present.” The Emperor’s Champion hummed, a small smile on his face as he held his Bonded lovingly. 

“Yes sir! We’ll try to stay out of trouble, sir!” Cedric chirped for his brothers, stepping so that he was helping Olivar and Pallius move without it being abundantly obvious. 

Arnault snorted a little “Uh-huh. No fist fighting Chaos Cowards out of armor, Cedric.” 

Cedric pouted a little as Olivar and Pallius looked at him curiously “That was one time, big bruder!”

“Ah-huh.” Arnault answered, still smirking a little as the three apprentices made their way out of his and his beloved’s home.

Cedric helped Pallius and Olivar get back to base, making sure to insist that they sit on  benches that were occasionally near the sidewalk, so that they could give their still-healing bodies a break. He also dutifully recounted his encounter with the Slaaneshi Bastard and his reasoning behind tackling the fucker and duct-taping empty glass jars to his poison-dripping fingertips.

[c-u-c-koo-4-40k]

THE MOMENT I SAW THIS I DROPPED EVERYTHING EEEEEEEP!

This in another one where Gallifrey and I bounced Ideas/convos around for. But Again, the flourish and extra context Far Exceed all my expectations!

Its all SO GOOD! My crops are watered, my fields are flourishing and you even put a cute mention of Lullaby! Love it!

I love how these stories are helping these ocs develope! Khopesh started out as a plays too much prankster! Which was fun but now we've got his Nightlord relationships, him guiding Claude, giving the exposition about the particular Capital Punishment reserved for the worst actors of astartes!

Love that the recent headcanon gets to be used in this way! A method to open Claude up and soothe his paranoia! And its also bonus world building!

Like yeah little bro somebody been messin wit you and you friends? Let Us handle the fucker. Leather workshops been needing some replenishment!

And yes! Fuck yes! Now I wanna see a story about Khopesh, and Claude and Olly (and maybe Lullaby if I can make it work) going fossil hunting so they can feed Olly rocks and get his opinion on them!

It would be an awesome sweet activity once this storyline's Olly feels well enough. Could be one of those activities that keeps him active without hurting himself.

Love the continuation of protective fatherly Anrir who despite having...certain feelings about current Nightlord practices, totally agrees that whoever hurt Claude (and the others) needs to get hunted idiot.

And of course Hura, Zariel, Ash'val and Roland and Arnault being Top Fucking Tier Big Bros in their own right.

And Claude getting to snuggle with his Primaris Brothers and feel safe and loved. And him getting to feel a bit more comfortable around his first born brothers! (Also cool detail that Cedric calmly...calms Claude's paranoia by pointing out he's a Black Templar who looks and Dresses like a black Templar at a public clinic. Not so much somebody is ratting them out, it's more like...people are just taking about what they've seen.)

100000/10

Loved it! Loved it! LOVED IT!

Left to Spend

Author's note: more of Claude in Husbandry. Thank you to @kit-williams for letting me borrow Roland, Arnault, Anrir and Ghosk, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k for letting me borrow Khopesh. Thank you to @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow Cedric and Ash'val.

Summary: Khopesh catches up to Claude and talks about rock eating, among other things. He reports the more unusual aspects of his conversation to Anrir. Who sends Karlsor to give Hura a message. Hura gathers Zariel and Ash'val together to talk about the Most Concerning Parts of the conversation that Claude had with the Night Lords. Zariel and Ash'val bring Arnault and Roland in to tell them, just to warn them of More Grox-shite.

Warning: Panic, fear, visions of death and of characters, nightmare, murder, miscommunication, poor communication skills, mention of murder, serial killer mention. Let me know if I need to add any more.

Past =-= Next

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams,

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @ms--lobotomy @bispecsual @thevoidscreams

Tagged: @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

Ghosk and Karlsor had rushed over to try and grab Claude to ground him here, but all their fingers brushed were the soft feathers of a Raven and smoke. Ghosk lifts one of his hands and smacks Karlsor against the back of the other's head, hard.

Ghosk hisses out to the other Night Lord, “you are such a fucking asshole! You pushed him too far and I didn't have a chance to talk to him before he cut and ran. Congrats. We will now have to play ‘find The Scout’ and pray he hasn't completely fried his brain using magic.”

“Yeah, but I did also get more information out of him,” Karlsor says as he shoves an elbow into the other’s side in revenge for getting smacked on the back of the head. And also dodges another slightly more playful smack from Ghosk, who sends Anrir a short message.

Anrir turns and calls out to Khopesh, “Khopesh, I need you to track down Claude and see wherever it was he ended up and see if he’s dead or dying. If neither is the case, we also need you to get Cedric the Black Templar Apothecary to tend to him. He likely will not react well to anyone else.”

“On it, Anrir,” Khopesh says as he gives a curt nod and then swiftly exits the room as he sneaks through the base to see where, on Ancient Terra Claude ended up.

“If you can get Claude to agree to come by and talk to us, that would be ideal,” Anrir says, “but if he’s too resistant to that idea, come back with a report on him and what he’s said.”

Khopesh had paused, leaving when Anrir started talking and nodded sharply as he continued to move and stalk around the base sneakily as he could trying to find out where Claude and the other Primaris Marines were on the base. 

Khopesh is kind of hoping that Claude would eventually forgive their older brothers for this misstep. Also, Claude would decide to become part of their Claw. It would be fun, and nice to have a younger brother join, he’d finally have someone younger than him in the Claw to hang out with. 

He would also like to have his Claw meet his beloved Lullaby… eventually. Some of them at least. He knows that Claude wouldn’t go after his Lullaby, some of the others can be a bit twitchy.

=÷=

Claude blinks as he wakes up, and really wishes he could be unconscious again as he sees through blurry eyes Cedric and Jophiel’s alarmed faces as they are tending to him. Jophiel had licked his face clean of blood, he can tell from the expressions on Jophiel and Cedric’s face that it had happened.

Which was a little weird to Claude, but Jophie-  he’s glad to help with supplementation of alternate sources of rations that Jophie needs and help Cedric asses him for what the fuck just happened. 

He’s glad that Jophiel is able to help him by lending him strength and helping to soothe his psyker muscles that he severely over-used in escaping the First Born Night Lords. After they helped patched him up he apologizes for waking them up and the both of them scold him for that, and that he really should ask for help and they squeeze him tightly for a hug and pulled him into bed and the three of them fell asleep, Claude feels warm and squished and loved as he’s wedged in between the pair of them.

Over the next several days, Claude does his best to evade and avoid any and all Night Lords. Unfortunately, they are stuck in the Chaos Base for a bit longer than expected, he suspected that Anrir had talked to Hura, who was delaying their return until the bastard or one of his Claw could catch and tear into him. 

Which he was really dreading having happened to him, as he knew that he would have to apologize for some of the things he said, which, as he fumed and stewed in his emotions, he really, really did not want to do that.

It's harder to evade Khopesh and his claw of brothers with being under pain of sedation and Cedric tattling to Hura, use his shadow teleportation, or any of his other warp powers until he was deemed recovered, which could take a few more hours to several months. Recovery time for Warp over usage on Ancient Terra could vary quite widely and was very inconvenient. 

Claude ducked into a room, having spotted Karlsor, or more accurately, heard the First Born Librarian swearing and cursing out some person for doing or not doing something, he had checked that the room wasn’t occupied, scanning the floors, walls and he didn't see anyone. 

He forgets to check the ceiling in his rush to hide from Karlsor, so he doesn’t realize that Khopesh had noticed him sneaking into the room and hiding on the ceiling to wait for Claude to enter the room. 

Khopesh waits until Claude is fully in the room while he waits for the other to move further into the room. Once that happens he lets go of the ceiling and drops to the floor, which has Claude whirling around to track the noise and he decides to distract Claude from being Upset with him and his brothers for pushing him too hard.

"Why'd you think we wouldn't care about the Primaris Marines?” Claude stills and whirls around to face Khopesh as the other stalks towards him and continues to speak, asking questions, “You're still Battle Brothers aren't you? What's even so different about Primaris Marines anyway?"

Khopesh is also very curious about Claude and about Primaris Marines in general and has quite a few questions he has for him. And for the rest of the Primaris Marines as well, but he’s never been able to talk to one of them long enough to ask his questions, not without getting interrupted by one or more of the others. Be it his claw or some other old fart wanting to interrupt his fun.

"Well the First Born marines seemed to think differently. Different and Wrong. Misshapen mismatched abominations with chimeric gene seed-" Claude explains, the words pouring out of his mouth, the words of the First Borns in M42 seared into his brain painfully.

Then, Khopesh chimed in, suddenly stopping his rant. He blinks and stares down at Khopesh as the other speaks, "So you're bigger than average and have multiple gene fathers?"

He had noticed that Claude was starting to get more distraught- so he was nipping the other’s self flagellating words and ones that he’d stated in a diction that sounded like it was from an older brother or cousin’s harsh phrasing.

"That is the short version, yes.” Claude says blinking at Khopesh, utterly thrown off guard by Khopesh, uncertain as to how to react. 

"...Neat! Say I've heard Iron Hands eat rocks do you?" Khopesh says suddenly. He’s glad that he’s put Claude off guard- and that the younger Night Lord is calming down and distracted from his thoughts and feelings, for now at least.

"No?" Claude says blinking and tilting his head- however his mind flits to the memories of a certain, slightly awkward brother cousin, “My brother cousin Oleandros loves to eat rocks, and has Opinions on which ones taste good and which ones don’t.”

"Awww, bummer, I've wanted to know what fossils or gems taste like for a while but Anrir says I have to 'Avoid damaging important historical artifacts...and my teeth' Like are you telling me it would be Soooo Bad if I or someone else took just One bite of a ruby or an ammonite? Terra's got loads of them! Let me try!" Khopesh continues his questions, as well as something that he genuinely has wanted to do, but was stopped by Anrir, who had been thoroughly disapproving of such antics.

Claude was utterly flummoxed and thought to himself, shaking his head a little. ‘Had...had Khopesh not been Listening? Well clearly the Night Lord had to have been as he gave a decently concise description of general Primaris differences. Or at least he did so without the baggage or reprimand Claude and his fellows were so accustomed to hearing.’

And honestly his anger and vitriol were so suddenly cut off... Claude didn't know how to react. It was as if he had been a balloon filled with a great amount of helium, and Khopesh had just popped it with a clown nose, somehow.

"Hah! That so? You'll have to bring him around then, or at least ask him for me. I Need to know what ammonite tastes like. I mean we weren't lucky enough to get warp zapped to a Terra where they were still alive, so tasting their fossils is the best we can get."

“I will have to ask Oleandros to come join us,” Claude says scratching the back of his neck, “He’s still recovering from arriving on Ancient Terra.”

“Ah- let me know so we can go fossil hunting and feed him rocks,” Khopesh says with a grin. 

“Oleandros would love that,” Claude said with a hearty chuckle, imagining Olly’s reaction to that. “Cedric also occasionally eats rocks, but only very rarely, mostly he eats normal, boring Astartes grade food. So- if Cedric does catch us feeding Olly rocks he can’t scold us too much since he eats them too, not if he doesn’t want to be called a hypocrite. And Cedric really does not like hypocrites.”

"Ah poor bastard. Was it injuries from before the drop or after?" Khopesh prodded before his demeanor changed. 

“No- he was wounded before he arrived on Ancient Terra, and as far as he said no one injured him before he was found and treated,” Claude says.

Although, it had been a close thing, as Oleandros had almost staggered into Chaplain Petras’s camp- which would have. No- Claude as not going to think about that, because then he’d get upset and then Khopesh would notice and try to pester him about what had upset him so much.

"Or...Did somebody from here Injure him Intentionally?" A bizarre and honestly Terrifying glee lit up in Khopesh's eyes. "Cause if you know who did it I and the Claw would be happy to take you Hunting."

"T-take me what??" Claude says suddenly nervous, the gleam in the other’s eye reminds him of predator animals stalking prey and that concerns him. He keeps still and doesn’t back away, not wanting to excite the other’s blood lust or something.

"Hunting! You know! Proud Nightlord tradition." Khopesh crowed joyously, half smacking half hugging the younger Marine across the shoulders despite the height difference. "You see someone doing something bad so you follow after them and make them regret ever Breathing the same air as whoever they harmed. You have a chase, have a few laughs, and then the leather workshop gets some new supplies! It's Great Fun!"

He flinched a little at the sudden half hug the other had squeezed him into, but he had slowly eased into the hug and listened to what the other said and pondered what the other said. He had heard that the Night Lords had some… darker inclinations.

‘Well...that was disturbing to think about.’ Claude thinks to himself as he thinks about what he should say next.

"Have you....done that very often?" Claude asks, suddenly wanting to know and feeling vaguely nauseous and… thoughtful about such a thing happening, and unease as well.

"Not as much here, not as many irredeemable predatory Bastards," Khopesh spat the words with a vitriol that strained his vocal cords. "Here as there was on Nostramo. But we do get handed the occasional and I do mean occasional bastard to deglove to our hearts content! But it's only those the Alliance want to Make an Example out of. Real Nasty sorts! Captured Astartes involved with human trafficking, death rituals, serial killers, those kinda things."

One in that group stood out to Claude. "Astarte Serial Killers?"

Khopesh noted the Primaris's curiosity. Interesting. He'd play along. "Yep! Worst ones so far was going after Bonded humans specifically, then they'd also kill the freshly debonded Astarte if they could. Group of Chaos Blood angels were getting high off the warp vibrations or some shit. One of ‘em got turned into pulp during the raid. The others were Ours to play with once the Dark Angels dragged them here."

Claude pushed down on the squirming stress he felt. It wasn't the delight in Khopesh's description that made him scared.

But his own foolish desire to Hope. Claude knows that he needs to be careful in what he says, especially to Khopesh. He knows that Khopesh will report what he’s saying to the other Night Lords- Likely to Anrir or Ghosk, depending on who sent him on the mission of ‘retrieve Claude’.

"So...the...the killers were prosecuted...and executed. Were the charges for the humans they killed? Or...the other Astartes?" Claude asks as he tries to keep his body language as neutral as possible. 

But. If there was already a process in place to punish Astarte Serial Killers- he’d have to talk to the others about… about The Primaris Killers, not that they know about many being on Ancient Terra, at least he prays to the God Emperor that there is only one of them skulking around.

Curiouser and curiouser. But Khopesh has no reason to hide this knowledge from the youngster. "Honestly it was a mix of both. The mix of victims definitely caused them to get caught sooner though."

Claude licked his lips nervously. Trying to think about what to say next. "What if an Astarte...was found to be a serial killer of other Astartes..."

Claude paused as Khopesh tilted his head. He hurriedly added "A-and specifically. Would the killer's victims being in the same chapter...be considered justification for a harsher punishment or…?"

A Primaris Scout asking about possible punishments for a serial killer Astartes, who specifically targets Battle Brothers. Anrir Definitely needed to hear about this. But best not to keep the Scout waiting.

"If it was all inside the same chapter I'd assume it'd fall to that chapter to pass judgment." Khopesh explained. "It's a pride thing. Gotta give even the most vile traitor an honorable death. Helps reclaim the honor for the legion and the victims."

Claude keeps his face impassive, even as his hearts races at the thought of Pet- of him going after non-Black Templar Primaris Marines. Would he be stupid enough? Arrogant enough to go after non-black Templar brothers? He would have to talk to Ramiel and Cedric and the other Primaris Black Templars to see… to see if they thought it might be a possibility.

"But If the killer took victims from multiple chapters, especially the more vindictive ones..." Khopesh let a wicked sharp tooth grin split his face. "I have almost no doubt! The bastard who did it would land in our hands."

“As far as I know he’s only gone after Black Templars.” Claude whispered, unaware that thought hadn’t been kept in his head, but whispered out loud. Primaris Space Marines had more acute hearing, so hopefully he had said that quietly enough that Khopesh hadn’t heard what he’s whispered, he’d also covered his mouth as he’d whispered that. “That is good to know… Thank you for letting me know.”

“What did you say?” Khopesh asks, confused, he’d thought he’d heard Claude say something before he heard the second part of his statement.

“Nothing important for right now,” Claude says semi-truthfully as he looks away from Khpesh as he tries to think of something else to say. He shifts from one foot to another and then looks back at the older Night Lord.

“If you say so,” Khopesh says, keeping his voice light. He really needs to get this… interesting information he’s gathered from what Claude has said and not said to Anrir. “Say- I know that Karlsor can be an asshole, but Anrir and the others want to talk to you some more.

“That is…” Claude pauses as he feels hope flutter in his chest, that at least Khopesh and his Claw won’t automatically side with Petras, even though all of them are First Born. “That is good to know. Thank you for letting me know.”

Claude doesn’t feel ready to talk to them some more yet. “... I don’t want to talk to them right now. Although, if you would extend my apologies for the… uncouth words I said and how… I shouldn’t have spoken so disrespectfully to them, I’d appreciate it Khopesh.”

“I’ll inform Anrir and the others of what you want me to tell them,” Khopesh says, “or you could come with me and say your apology to them.”

“I don’t want to talk with them right now,” Claude says with a sour expression twisting on his face as he shakes his head. He is still not feeling ready for that sort of conversation at the moment.

Khopesh looks him over for a moment, “Don’t you have a Magic lesson with Karlsor today in the afternoon?”

“No- that will be delayed until after I recover from… overusing my powers.” Claude says with a shake of his head. “Besides, Jophie, Cedric and I are heading back to the Loyalist Imperial Fist and Salamander at Gannet Point soon anyways.”

“Well, I’ll let Anrir and the other’s know that you aren’t dead or dying, or insane,” Khopesh says, “... Is there anything else that you want to or need to tell me?”

“...Not at the moment.” Claude says after a moment or two of thought, “... I have a few things I need to let the other’s know. I don't know if they know about… how Astarte Justice is served on Ancient Terra. But it’s a good… conversation to have.”

“I could come with you if you’d like and talk to them about it in person,” Khopesh says, the Zeal and over bright eagerness his back in his eyes as he bounces on his heels with a feral smile that shows his sharp teeth curl across his face.

“Thank you for the offer,” Claude says, “... But I have a few other things that I’d like to talk to them about before… having an expert in… Justice be brought in to talk about such things.”

“Just know that I’m here for you,” Khopesh says seriously. While normally he’s a go with the flow, and prankster type, some things are serious and are to be taken very seriously. 

“That is something I’m glad to keep in mind Khopesh,” Claude says with a slightly distracted nod, mind a whirl of thoughts and ideas.

Khopesh takes a peek outside the room they were in and pulls back and says, “The old bastards are gone, so we can escape this room now.”

“Sounds good to me,” Claude said with a nod as he headed out of the room after Khopesh left first.

Khopesh headed off and sent Anrir a message. [Found Claude. He’s alive and has a sound mind.]

[Excellent.] Anrir replies, before sending another message, [Anything else to report?] 

[Yes, with what I’ve learned a verbal report would be better.]

[Wilco.] Anrir replies and after a few moments he sends coordinates and a date and time for Khopesh to follow and he goes there swiftly.

Anrir is already there and turns to the younger Night Lord and says sternly, “Report, Khopesh.”

Khopesh stands at attention briefly before heading to the table and taking one of the seats that Anrir isn’t occupying and goes over his report on what he’d found out. What Claude had said and not said. The questions and… intense interest he’s had in Justice and the way he’d asked about Astarte Serial killers… particularly those that hunted after other Astartes.

“... Now, that is interesting,” Anrir says carefully, “And … some would call it concerning. I do hope that we can build more trust with Claude so that he’ll tell us about this… prey.”

“Yes Anrir,” Khopesh says with a sharp grin, “I offered Claude to have us join on his Hunt- which he seemed not to know about until I told him.”

“And?” Anrir asks.

“He was a little spooked, but mostly thoughtful and almost plotting.” Khopesh says, “He has someone in mind for a Hunt- but wants to confirm… certain things with other people.”

Anrir taps one of his hands against the table as he thinks, “... I think I should bring this information to light to Hura- and some of the others who are highly protective of the Primaris Space Marines that have landed in our laps… Also it explains some things about them, in a tragic way… Don’t say anything to anyone else about this- not until we know more. We don’t want to… rile up certain… factions quite yet.”

“Yes Anrir,” Khopesh says, “We don’t have a target, a name, yet.”

“More’s the pity that,” Anrir says with a sigh, “but it’s more than what we had to go on before. As I said before, little steps, it’s going to take a long while to get them to trust us. The fact that Claude felt comfortable enough, safe enough, to snap at us and let us know that he feels… unsafe and not tended to properly. That Claude is actually being willing to vocalize how he feels like he and his fellow Primaris marines feel unsafe and less important.”

Khopesh nods, as he listens to Anrir’s words of wisdom and advice. With as much as he’s learned about psychology and psychological manipulation, there is always more to learn about the human psyche and all that it has.

“Another interesting thing is Claude wanted me to send his apologies for being uncouth about how he said what he said.” Khopesh says after a lull in the conversation. “what hensaid explains why they haven't lashed out more, they don't trust us with their more unsightly emotions yet.”

“Good observation Khopesh, but during the apology he didn't recant what he said.” Anrir guesses, “Yes, that matches up with some of the things that Cedric has said in his fury. These Primaris Marines are a very interesting puzzle.”

Khopesh nods, which means that there is truth in those hurt and angry words that had poured out of Claude like acid. Likely words he would not have said if he wasn’t in an altered state of mind, the after effects of draining Visions are fascinating and prone to cause outbursts of emotions in those with the curse of the 8th. Honestly, Claude hasn't tried to kill any of them, which speaks to his control over himself. 

Khopesh feels a familiar rage at injustice as he remembers some of the words that Claude had said, “it's wrong that him and his brother cousins couldn't fight against their abusers, or felt like they couldn't do so because the bastards used Hierarchy and psycho-indoctrination Against them.”

“It proves whoever did it deserves Justice,” Anrir replies with a nod, eyes sharpening a little. 

“I do hope that Claude will let us help him Hunt the bastard down. “ Khopesh says with a blood thirsty smile. “It will be a bit of a Challenge to go after an Astarte Killer.”

“Indeed,” Anrir replied with a similar smile.“It's not right that they were taught wrong.”

“Taught wrong about what?” Khopesh asks.

“From what young Claude has implied, he's tried to fight against injustice, or seen others do so, only for them to be punished for it, especially by higher ranking brothers and cousins.”

“But they are the ones who need it the most. To keep them in check!” Khopesh protests.

“Indeed, which is… unfortunate for M42.” Anrir replies with a shake of his head, “and foolish.”

He sends a message to Karlsor to set up a meeting with Hura to discuss what they had learned. This … potential for an Astarte Serial killer, who potentially goes after Primaris Space Marines is deeply troubling, but they don't have anything concrete. Hura takes in the information with an inscrutable expression and he thanks them for this information and sends a message to loop in Zariel and Ash'val for This in-person information that is troubling and possibly Urgent.

Zariel's reaction to a potential Primaris Space Marines Astarte serial killer had been fun for Hura to witness, and the dragon's wrath was equally entertaining for Hura to Witness and he looks at them both.

“You two are telling Roland and Arnault, they will charge me thinking I could possibly be so stupid and wasteful.” Hura says, under his cheerful demeanor he is wrathful. If he finds out who has Claude ask such Questions, he will have them beg For the Mercy of Grandfather Nurgle, and not give it to them.

Hura nods to both of them and to Karlsor, who heads out after Hura leaves the meeting room first. “Have fun with The Emperor's Champion and Roland.”

Zariel groans and rubs his face, the pair of them are not going to react well to this possibility. Oh who is he kidding? There is likely a Serial killer running around going after Primaris Marines.

“Even odds on if the boys have a main suspect or six,” Zariel says as he thunks his head against the table as he talks to Ash'val as they wait for Roland and Arnault to arrive.

Zariel has recomposed himself before the pair of older Black Templars come in. Arnault has a hand brushing his sword, a concerned expression on his face and icy blue eyes. Roland jabs his brother in the side and asks, “you wanted us to talk, and it sounded urgent?”

“Yes.” Zariel says as he looks down at the data slate and then back up at them, “...Arnault, you said Something about how certain things going on remind you of a story that you'd write?”

“Ja, I do,” Arnault replies as he crosses his arms over his chest, “why?”

“... Given what Karlsor and Anrir and Khopesh were able to get out of Claude…” Zariel takes in a deep breath and rips off the band aid, “there… may be someone running around Ancient Terra, a First Born brother of indeterminate Chapter and origin, running around murdering Primaris Marines.”

Arnault snarls and his Fist goes part of the way through a wall. Roland's scowl deepens as he swears and the pair of black templars look at each other.

“What proof do you have?” Arnault says, his accent thick with barely contained wrath.

“Claude has prophetic abilities and said something about ‘Bloody Death in a forest and in a mountain range’.” Zariel says using the direct quote that he had been given, “as well as how, paraphrased, ‘First Borns don't have to worry, h-they won't escalate to first borns or likely baselines.’... Apparently he doesn't feel very safe around First Borns… and from the way he reached, he is used to First Borns looking the other way when their fellow first borns go after Primaris.”

“What the fuck is wrong with M42?!” Arnault snarls out.

“That is the question of the century,” Zariel says, trying to defuse the other a little.

“We are going to be pushing the boys for answers,” Arnault says as he looks to Roland eyes a blazing blue.

“Ja,” Roland replies, his hands clenching and unclenches. “Was there any other information that needed to be shared?”

They look between each other as Zariel remembers the physical argument that he heard that Cedric got Into with a Space Wolf, and the accusation that he had leveled at the head Apothecary of the Imperial Fist Base.

“... you should talk to Cedric.” Ash'val says.

“Noted.” both older Black Templars say.

Claude takes a look down both parts of the hallway, just in case Khopesh was overexaggerating to mess with him a bit. And seeing no one else anywhere, and he makes sure to look up, and doesn’t spot anyone he heads over to where Jophiel and Cedric are.

He feels a slight shiver run down his spine, someone is talking about him behind his back. Claude frowns a little at the uneasy feeling, but he shakes his head and continues moving down the hallway. He will be glad to go back to the Loyalist base soon, he'd really rather not have to deal with the twisting tests of the Chaos Space Marines.

One of the big reasons why the three of them were at the Chaos base that Hura frequented was because Petras was in the area and was at the Imperial Fist and Salamander base and none of them wanted to deal with Petras, and evade and avoid his notice if at all possible.

It was really Thrones-damned stressful since several of their fellow Primaris brothers were wounded badly enough that moving them would be unwise and noticeable if they did try to move them.

The rest of the not-wounded Primaris Marines had scattered to other parts of Terra that were away from Petras and where Petras was likely going to be. Claude did not like that more Crusades of Black Templars were invading Gannet Point, likely drawn in by the rumors of Ramiel and Cedric, and perhaps about the others.

Claude pursed his lips as his eyes flashed teal for a moment before settling black to night dark. He won’t let those bastards hurt his brothers, if his brother cousins want to go with them, so be it, if they don’t want to go with them, then he’d do what he could to drive those bastards away from them.

Besides- Arnault and Roland are, from what the others have said, and from what they’d been like the times he’d met them. Are wonderful Crusade leaders, or at least that's what his Black Templar Primaris brother-cousins say. 

Besides, Ramiel and Cedric are getting specialty specific training by Imperial Fists, Salamanders, some Ultramarines, and an Ultramarine, part of him wonders why Cedric was basically handed over to Zariel. Also part of him wonders why Hura is so involved in all that they do as well. It gives him Concerns about how certain parts of the command structure in the Loyalist base regard them. He muses that there are some Chaos and renegades as well who help teach him and the others a bit. It was… not the most traditional training, but they were both learning a lot and that was what was most important. 

Also- that they are safer in these bases, despite being more restricted in their movements, then traversing Ancient Terra with only around ten other brothers… it sounded like that could be an utter nightmare if the brothers around one’s self had nefarious designs.

At least, they are- so long as that Throne-cursed Primaris Killer doesn’t become aware of them. Likely the bastard knows that there are Primaris Marines on Ancient Terra, but who they are, and which chapters are more vague, except for the fact that someone is fucking telling the wandering war bands of Black Templars about his brothers. 

To lure those fuckers in as bait. He really doesn’t like that his brother-cousins are being used as bait, and none of them were even warned about it. Then again, that was typical of First Borns to not tell them the full mission parameters. To watch them flail and suffer and try to figure things out.

“Claude?” He hears one of his brothers call out, “you seem a little… twitchy.”

Claude looks up and relaxes when he sees it’s Cedric, “Oh… I just have a nasty suspicion about something.”

“... What?” Cedric asks as he looks like he is bracing himself for some bad news.

“It’s just,” Claude says as he licks his lips and takes in a deep breath as he gathers his thoughts. “You and Rami have said that there have been an unusual number of Black Templar Crusades wandering in and out of Gannet Point recently.”

“Yeah,” Cedric says, “I heard from at least one warband that it’s because of… us, or at least Ramiel and I.”

“Yeah, but who fucking put the word out?” Claude asks, scowling at the ground as he leans against Cedric a little bit, “And why the fuck did they do that? Of course- the fucking First Born won’t tell us shit, they know better than we do. And since they are older and wiser they can make decisions for us. Even though we are technically adults by the standards for Astartes. Did they even ask you or Ramiel if either one of you wanted to Join a Crusade or meet any older brothers? Or did they just decide to put the word out and assume that you and Ramiel want to meet them? Without any regards for the potential consequences that can have?”

Cedric frowned thoughtfully before answering “Claude… Have you forgotten that I work at an Astartes run clinic that is available for public use? Both for baselines and Astartes? I usually wear a black scrubs shirt with a large white cross on it. Between that and my Dorn-line silver hair and blue eyes, it’s pretty obvious I am a Black Templar, just not wearing armor. It likely spread through the patients I tend to. I did attack a Slaaneshi fucker my very first day and he very quickly found out which chapter I hailed from after I was dragged off of the careless fucker.”

“Ah, right,” Claude rubbed his face with his hands, “I’m having visions of a Primaris Killer murdering Primaris Marines on Ancient Terra. I’m sorry for spiraling, thank you for reminding me of that.”

“Come to me when you are having concerns and anxieties when you are struggling to do so yourself, it’s part of mine and Ramiel’s job to help both of you when that happens,” Cedric says there was almost a gentle smile on his face before the other words he said registered. “Are these events concurrent or in the future or can you not tell?”

“I can’t tell,” Claude says, “not right now. I think it’s in the future? Or A very likely future.”

“Is there anything else that you'd like to talk about?” Cedric asks.

“There is…” Claude says looking around and glancing back at Cedric, “did you know that there are legal Precedents and procedures in place for serial killer Astares?”

Cedric’s game lazor focuses on him and he shakes his head a little, “I hadn't known that.”

Claude nods and goes over what Khopesh had told him about that sort of thing, and how it differs from Chapter to chapter.

“I didn't tell him anything specific or that someone is… targeting a particular kind of Astartes,” Claude whispers to Cedric, covering his lips so that no one can read his lips.

“It's good to know that there are… options in place.” Cedric says as he looks away, “I…I will talk to the others about … This form of Justice.”

[bleedingichorhearts]

I’m not sure if I should be angry and relieved they pressed him, but to get the truth that has been simmering burns and hurts when it boils over.

Talking to Older Brothers

This is the next part in Cedric’s adventures in the Astartes Husbandry AU, and specifically the Introducing New Primaris Black Templars arc. For other adventures click here and here. First. Previous. Next.  Thank you very much to @kit-williams for allowing me to borrow her ocs Roland and Arnault and @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan for allowing me to borrow her OC Ramiel

Tagged:  @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @i-am-a-dragon34

Warnings: mentions of petras, death threats, if there is anything else I need to tag, please tell me!

Summary: After leaving the base, Cedric goes to talk to Roland, then later Arnault.

Cedric only enters the bakery once he’s certain that he isn’t being followed. There is, as he’s expected, a long line of eager mortals inspecting the delicious foods for sale. He deliberately takes in a deep breath through his nose, the mouth-wateringly delicious scents of the lovingly hand-crafted pastries and other baked goods a welcome distraction from the ugly feelings still eating away at his hearts like the most wicked of poisons. He lets out the breath he’d taken slowly, through his mouth, before inhaling through his nose again.

He does this several times, eyes closed as he lets the chatter of mortals wash over him. He’s not listening to any one conversation in particular, but allowing the sounds to help ground him. Cedric opens his eyes as he hears the careful, distinctive footsteps of Roland walking up to him. He’s not surprised that the mortal shop-helper already went off to go get Roland, as he is an Astartes, though a familiar face in this particular bakery. 

“Are you here for baked goods, Cedric? Or have you come to talk to me about something?” Roland asks, looking him over carefully, a considering frown on his face.

“... I need to speak with you, privately. But I did bring money to buy some of the delicious bread.” Cedric answered earnestly. Pallas and Olivar were healed to the point where they were being slowly introduced to baseline foods. There were few things better than the baked goods made by Roland’s Bonded in Cedric’s opinion, and he hoped to get them both a treat…

If he survives the punishment for attacking Chief Apothecary Melinth, he hopes to give them the bread himself. Otherwise, he’s sure that Ramiel will share the bread with them for him. Cedric’s superiors in the base have been distressingly lenient with him so far, but he’s quite certain that has come to an end. But that was a problem for Later Cedric to deal with. 

“Follow me, then, to the back. Do you mind helping me knead the dough? I had to run an errand this morning and we are a bit behind on some of the larger orders that came in while I was away.” Roland asked, gesturing for Cedric to follow him into the back of the bakery. 

“I’d be happy to help.” Cedric answered earnestly. He smiles cheerfully as he sees you working diligently on some kind of fruit filling for the carefully arranged trays of tart-shells, waiting to be filled and finished cooking. “Hallo!” He calls out to you.

“Good afternoon, Cedric. It’s good to see you again. You’ve been pretty busy these past couple of months. New apothecary training?” You ask, giving him a small smile.

Cedric stills for a moment, face solemn “I wish it were something like that. I do apologize for being so absent recently. Things have been… Tumultuous, as of late. It’s what I wanted to talk to Roland about… Arnault as well, though I plan on talking to him later today.”  He goes over to the sink, washing his hand properly before heading over to the kneading table, grabbing one of the balls of dough and starting to work it in his hands. 

Roland washes his hands as well, and joins him in kneading the bread. He asks “What has been going on up at the base?”

Cedric focused on the way the bread dough felt in his hands as he pushed, pulled and folded it for a couple of seconds before answering, making sure not to put too much strength into manipulating the dough, or else it would tear. The repetitive motions and the care with which he needed to manipulate the bread, while also using some of his strength to get the dough to cooperate properly helped him stay calm as he explained, briefly glancing at you before switching over to Gothic “Over the past couple of months, there have been four new arrivals from M42. All four of them have been Primaris Black Templars. All of them badly injured. Two of them died, despite every effort to get them to a point of stability.” 

Cedric felt the bread tear in his hands and his eyes stung. The young apothecary huffed in frustration, shaking his head as he kneaded the dough back together, suppressing a growl of frustration, willing himself to find the calm that he’d very nearly achieved. 

“It’s unusual for an Astartes to die on Terra.” Roland remarked, also in Gothic, so as to not worry you. “Do you know what they plan on doing with the bodies?”

Cedric scowled “It does not matter what they want to do with the bodies up at the base - and I know what the chief apothecary wants to do with them. But since they are Black Templars and I am the highest ranking Apothecary of their chapter that any of them can get ahold of, I get to decide what happens to them. The organs that were salvageable have already been taken-” Damn it, he tore the bread dough again. A frustrated grunt leaves him as he mashes the torn pieces of dough back together, scowling fiercely “-and I intend on having Malachai and Lestras cremated. I will be speaking with local mortals who have facilities to properly burn their bodies, and intend on having their remains burned by the end of the week. Ramiel is getting the necessary supplies for the Rites of Remembrance, and I do have a holy place in mind for the Rites to be performed.”

Cedric put down the thoroughly kneaded dough ball into a loaf-pan, so that it could prove again and then be cooked. He reached for a second dough ball, his hands squeezing into the soft, giving substance. 

“Is this holy place off-base?” Roland asked perceptively as he set the dough ball he’d been working on in its own tin and grabbed another.

“Ja. There is a beautiful baseline church nearby, with stained-glass windows and a bell that rings beautifully when it is rung. One of the Sisters who tends to the spiritual needs of the mortals is bonded to an Astartes.” Cedric explained. He hesitated for a moment, knowing that he should be fully truthful about this particular Cousin, to avoid any potential… Problems “A pre-heresy Word Bearer Chaplain by the name of Lykus. We’ve spoken a couple of times.”

“And here I thought you tried to avoid every chaplain who wasn’t Ramiel for mysterious reasons.” Roland murmured, a teasing smile on his face “I have seen him around, occasionally. He seems a decent sort, and from well before the Fall of his legion.”

“Ramiel and I plan on holding the Rites of Remembrance in that church as soon as he has everything he needs. The two other Primaris Black Templars would be attending as well, though they’ll need assistance to get to the church, as their wounds are extensive and some of them limit their mobility. I was… We were wondering if you wished to attend.” Cedric explained, this new ball of dough tearing in his hands as he asked. The young apothecary wordlessly grumbles in frustration, rolling the two halves back together between his hands before going back to kneading the dough. He can’t quite look at Roland as he waits for the other’s answer.

“I would be honored to attend the Rites of Remembrance, and to meet the newly arrived Brothers as well.” Roland murmured, his voice warm.

Cedric risked peeking over at Roland. Stilling for a moment as he saw the gentle smile on the older Templar’s face. He swallowed hard, grateful beyond words for his response. “I… Thank you. If… If you wished for your bonded to attend, should she wish to, she would be… She would be welcome.”

Roland’s eyes softened a little and he set down the dough ball he’d been kneading, turning to fully face Cedric. He reached out slowly and pulled Cedric in close, hugging him tightly. “I would be honored to attend, and if you would be more comfortable with this event being Astartes only mein bakerin would understand.”

Some of the poisonous wrath in his hearts faded, as his older Brother hugged him. Cedric was careful to put down the dough in his hands so he didn’t accidentally mash it into Roland’s back as he hugged the other back. If he hid his face in the other’s shoulder for a moment or two as even more tears fell from his treacherous eyes…

Well, Roland was kind enough not to mention it, only hugging him tighter still. “Losing brothers is never easy, and grieving for them isn’t a sin, nor is it a sign of weakness.”

“... There is much to do, before I can grieve them. But I will, once they are resting, and my injured Brothers are healed.” Cedric answered quietly, slowly letting go of Roland and turning back to the ask of kneading dough. 

“... Grief does not wait patiently for one to have the time for it.” Roland warned Cedric “If you try to ignore your grief, it will try und consume you from the inside out. Terra is… Terra is a safer place to process these kinds of emotions, difficult though it is.”

“I will keep that in mind, Bruder Roland.” Cedric half-grumbled, though he did accept the older Templar’s word of warning for what it was. “... I need to tell Arnault of the upcoming Rites of Remembrance as well. I sought you out first as the bakery is closer to the base.”

Roland hummed in acknowledgement before asking “Is there anything else that you want to tell me?”

Cedric hesitated for a moment before shaking his head “Not right now, but thank you for listening.” He slowly let go of one of his older brother and started kneading a dough ball, letting out his frustrations on the soon-to-be loaves of bread.

Roland watched him for a long moment before returning to kneading as well “Alright. But if there is something that weighs on your hearts, or you are struggling with something ,you know you can always come to me, and I will help as best as I can.”

Cedric nodded, shifting a little from foot to foot “I will keep that in mind. Thank you, Roland.”

“All is well.” The older Templar responded with a small smile.

Cedric kneaded bread until he felt somewhere close to calm, before washing his hands and saying goodbye to both Roland and his bonded. He was fairly sure that Arnault and his bonded were at home, at this time of day, and planned on stopping by, to see if they’d talk. 

~

The young apothecary made his way over to where Arnault and Angela lived, pausing for a moment when his astartes-sized phone began ringing in his pocket. He paused, stepping to one side of the sidewalk so as to not block foot traffic before pulling the device out of his pocket. The name and number identified the caller as Captain Ash’val.

Cedric silently weighed the pros and cons of answering this phone call as it continued to ring in his hands. On one hand, this could be important, he might being recalled to base because a medical emergency was either happening or inbound and they needed all hands on deck. One of his injured brothers could be reacting poorly to being tended to by firstborn Apothecaries, or had taken a turn for the worse. On the other hand he had snapped at the other in anger, and he had a physical altercation with the chief apothecary of the base… The consequences of that, he knew he was going to be facing shortly after returning to said base. 

Cedric continued to stare at the phone in his hand, paralyzed by indecision. Should he put the phone back into his pocket, pretend that it was on silent, or that he just hadn’t heard it, distracted by the sights and sounds of Gannet Point? Should he face whatever trial this was sure to be now? What should he d-

“Cedric?” Miss Angela called out from behind him, causing the young Black Templar to startle and fumble with his phone. Despite his best efforts, it fell to the ground with a deafening and decidedly bad sounding smack as it  landed screen-first onto the edge of the sidewalk near the road. 

“I.. Uhm. Hello miss Angela!” Cedric managed out, attempting to smile down at the meek baseline human before he quickly knelt and scooped up his now broken phone. Dorn damn it all, today was not at all going the way he’d hoped it would. “I was hoping to speak to you and Arnault, if you are not busy…”

Some of the tension that Miss Angela had been keeping in her shoulders relaxed a little and she responded with “Of course I’d be happy to talk to you. Arnault as well. He got a call from Captain Ash’val not too long ago, actually. He said that something happened at the base and you stormed off, and that no one’s been able to get into contact with you for several hours, since. Arnault, love, Cedric’s over here!” That last sentence she half-shouted.

Arnault materialized out of nowhere, clearly having somehow acquired a teleportation array and the ability to use it effectively. “There you are! Come, we will talk in our home. I’ve heard what Ash’val and Melinth said what happened. I want to hear your side of it. Where have you been?”

Cedric fidgeted feeling guilty for worrying the older Black Templar “I left the base and knew I was being followed, so I shook off the person tailing me and went to the bakery that Roland and his bonded run together and talked to Roland for a while while kneading bread, to help calm down. It… it worked more or less.”

Arnault heaved a sigh at that, shaking his head a little “I am glad that you decided to find a safe way to vent your fury though why did you feel the need to shake off whoever was trying to catch u to you from the base?”

“Because I knew whoever was following me wasn’t one of my fellow Primaris Brothers and I… Don’t know how well I would have reacted to interacting with a fairborn marine who wasn’t a Black Templar in the fury I was in.”

Arnault hummed, nodding a little in understanding “Ja, I get that.”

“The door’s open, love! Once you two are ready to come inside.” Angela called out from the front door of her home before entering.

“Inside, now.” Arnault ordered Cedric, pointing at the door, a stern expression on his face.

“Yes sir.” Cedric responded, obediently doing as he was told as the older Black Templar followed closely behind him.

~

“Do either of you want something to drink?” Angela asked from the kitchen as Cedric and Arnault entered the cozy home. 

“Uhm… Some tea would be nice, if you don’t mind, Miss Angela.” Cedric answered after Arnault stared at him silently for several seconds.

“I’ll have a cup of tea as well, mein Engel.” Arnault called out with a small smile on his face. It faded and he addressed Cedric tersely “You, sit. Couch.”

Cedric barely managed to suppress the instinctual flinch the flat tones and sharp orders from an older brother instinctually provoked. “Yes sir.” he carefully took off his shoes first, putting them in the shoe bin before heading to the aforementioned couch, sitting on the edge of it, anxious. He couldn’t even look at Arnault at all, much less in the eye as he waited for the other to do or say something.

A short but very audible sigh left Arnault as the Emperor’s Champion made his way over to where Cedric was sitting, joining him on the couch. “What I was told by Chief Apothecary Melinth was that he asked you about irregularities that he found in the geneseeds implanted in Malachai and Lestras. In the ensuing argument, you escalated things violently before storming out of the base. Care to explain what happened?”

“Did… Did Apothecary Melinth say why I became violent?” Cedric asked, doing his best to keep his temper in check. Apparently the bread kneading hadn’t been as effective as he’d hoped it would be, as the fury was once more surging to the surface. 

“He did not deign to go into specifics, and I was more focused on finding you before you picked a fight with some renegades or chaos bastards, or were found by them and they needled you into causing a much messier problem. What happened?” Arnault asked. He sounded… Worried? And non-judgmental.

Cedric risked looking directly at Arnault, trying to gauge the other’s emotional state. He looked mildly worried, but otherwise calm.  “He accused me of lying about my origins, and the origins of the other Primaris Marines. That instead of being created by the Mechanicum, we are a group of Bile’s abominations in the shape of Space Marines, meant to infiltrate loyal chapters and weaken them from within.”

“He what?” Arnault growled, a thunderous frown appearing on his face. 

Before the older Templar could say anything else, Angela walked into the living room, carrying three mugs of tea and a couple of plates of fruit and crackers. “Here you go, love, Cedric. I also grabbed a little snack, in case either of you were hungry. Do you want me to stay for this conversation? Or is this something private between brothers?” 

Cedric looked over at Arnault, unsure what the other’s decision about that was going to be. Much of this conversation probably wouldn’t make sense to her, even if they did speak in one of the local languages that she did know, rather than in rapid-fire Gothic. 

Arnault sighed “This conversation is going to be one that won’t make much sense to those who are not Astartes, mein Engel, and there are some things that have been verboten to explain, even to our bonded. I adore having you near me whenever possible, but this is an astartes-only conversation.  I hope you understand.”

“I don’t understand the subject matter, but I will let you talk to your younger brother privately. I’ll be in my sewing room, if you need or want my help or presence.” Angela murmured, a small smile on her face as she walked over and gave Arnault a kiss on the lips before walking off.

“I will always want you near me, unless there is something dangerous going on. Then I will want you to be as safe as possible. Danke schon for understanding, liebling.” Arnault murmured, kissing her back, a loving and affectionate smile on his face. 

Angela nodded and left the room, with Arnault’s gaze lingering on her as she left. Once the sounds of her quiet footsteps could not longer be easily heard, the older Black Templar refocused on the conversation “Is that when you got violent? The presumption that he made that you und your Primaris Brothers were not who you said you were, but infiltrators and saboteurs?”

“No, though I will admit to yelling at him for how incorrect an assumption that was. I became physically violent after he repeatedly crowded into my physical space and attempted to grab me while I was trapped against one of the walls of his office.” Cedric paused for a moment, a slight shiver running down his back at the sheer panic and fury that had been running through him at the time. He continued to confess to Arnault “He tried to either grab or strike me and I responded by ducking his hands and kicking his bad knee out from under him. After that the physical fight continued until I could get to the door to his office and leave. I almost physically bumped into captain Ash’val as I fled the base… And I think I snapped at him, and my words to him were uncalled for and rude. After that I made sure to lose whoever was tracking me from the base and went to go speak to Roland… Though I didn’t tell him about the fight I got into.”

“What did you talk to Roland about?” Arnault prompted, his voice measured and calm.

“There have been four more Primaris who’ve arrived in the past couple of months, all of them fellow Black Templars… And all four of them were badly injured. Two of them are in the medical ward, recovering and going through physical therapy for some of their injuries. The other two…” His voice cracked and broke for a couple of moments. Cedric allowed himself a moment to get his words back before answering, voice quieter and shaking “The other two died. The last one we had a bit of forewarning about his condition and where he was going to appear, because of a vision Jophiel received. Despite all of Chief Apothecary Melinth’s skills, he was unable to save Malachai. Less than twenty-four hours later, both Malachai and Lestras were on surgical tables again, this time led by Melinth and six other high to mid ranking apothecaries of Loyalist, Renegade and Chaos leanings, to study the differences between Firstborn and Primaris Marines.”

Cedric paused for a moment “The newly dead brothers, in addition to the new living ones were what I spoke to Roland about. Along with the fact that Ramiel and I intend to have their Rites of Remembrance held soon, ideally by the end of the week. There is a church in town with beautiful stained-glass windows we intend on holding the Rites there. I have spoken to the Astartes who works there. He’s.” Cedric pauses for a moment, looking over at Arnault “A pre-heresy World Bearer Chaplain, with a bonded who is a Sister. Is… Is that going to be a problem?”

“... Do you know if he is corrupted at all?” Arnault asked, a small frown appearing on his face.

“I’ve talked to him a couple of times and he earnestly believes in the divinity of the god emperor. The fall of his legion distresses him greatly, from what little he’s spoken to me about it.” Cedric reported earnestly. “He shows no signs of corruption, to my knowledge.” Cedric also dutifully informs Arnault the name of the church and it’s address, in case the other wants to look at the church and speak to the chaplain himself first. “Oh! One last thing, if you wish and if she wishes, you may bring your bonded to the Rites of Remembrance.”

“You mentioned that all four of these new Bruders were found injured - Ramiel was also badly injured, upon being found here on Holy Terra as well. Do you know how they got those injuries?” Arnault asked, leaning a little towards Cedric as he asked, a very focused look on his face.

Cedric stilled. How much of the truth should he tell in this moment, without asking his brothers first? And he only had suspicions about who inflicted the wounds on Malachai and Lestras, as he hadn’t been able to ask them before they died. But Pallius and Olivar had both confirmed that they’d been badly beaten by Petras in M42 before awakening in M3 on Holy Terra. “As far as I know, they were injured in M42 and were brought by whatever force is behind this to holy Terra, in this time.”

“That doesn’t answer my question, Cedric. Do you know how they got so badly injured?” Arnault reiterated, his eyes narrowing a little as he spoke.

“I can’t say for sure how Malachai and Lestras ended up with injuries that they had.” though he had his suspicions, especially with Malachai’s injuries. They were, unfortunately, very familiar to Cedric. “But I do know that they’d gotten those injuries during the course of their service to the god emperor.” 

Arnault’s eyes narrowed a little further “Cedric… Ash’val showed me pictures of some of the wounds that were inflicted on your brothers - including Ramiel. I know what it looks like when someone has been attacked by Lightning Claws. All of them were attacked by an Astartes. None of them had defensive wounds, which means they did not fight back and you knew where all their injuries were, including internal ones.”

Fuck! What should he do? Cedric… Cedric did trust Arnault, he really did. But this wasn’t just his decision to make… Though, technically as the only Black Templar Apothecary tending to the injured Black Templars in the base it kind of was, in a legal sense. “... They were punished. The sins they allegedly committed vary by Brother, but the one that had them ultimately killed was one that they could not change, nor help.”

“Explain. Now.” Arnault ordered, his face a twisted into a thunderous scowl.

“I told you earlier that the Primaris rollout nearly broke the Chapter. Part of the reason why is because some Black Templars were killing Primaris Marines. A percentage of these murdered Primaris marines were the chosen apprentices of other Firstborn Marines who did not take kindly to their proteges being murdered. It was very nearly a full-on civil war within the chapter, and it…” Cedric swallowed hard, unable to look at Arnault directly as he continued to explain. He had a desire to curl up into as small of a ball as his large frame would allow, but managed to  It only stopped after the High Marshal gathered the full fleet together for a meeting and informed everyone that we Primaris marines were here to stay, and that we were not heretical abominations. If anyone wished to disagree with that, they could fight him for leadership over the chapter. None of his challengers survived the ritual duels, including the marine who was responsible for the deaths of all five of my fellow Primaris Black Templars.”

“Are any of the Black Templars who killed younger brothers currently here on Ancient Terra?” Arnault asked, his voice hard and growly. 

Fuck!

“We… We don’t know for certain.” Cedric answered truthfully… Sort of. Petras was on Holy Terra, but none of them had managed to work up the courage to confront the Chaplain directly, to find out when exactly the chaplain was from. Petras was well over four hundred years old, when he had been felled by High Marshal Helbreicht after all, and had spent well over two hundred years as an honorable and well-regarded chaplain of the Black Templars. 

“Explain to me, what you mean by that. In detail, Cedric.” Arnault growled, still scowling at Cedric.

The younger Black Templar tried very hard not to start obviously panicking. Cedric wasn’t sure how to explain in a way that wouldn’t potentially cause Arnault to fly into a rage. “I… Uhm.. Ah…” He grabbed the cool mug of tea that had been created for him and took a sip from it very slowly, trying desperately to figure out how to word things. Before he could come up with something to tell Roland, there was a strong knock on the door. “You should probably answer the door, Brother Roland.” Cedric timidly suggested, hiding behind the mug of tea as best as he could manage. 

Arnault grumbled under his breath as he stomped over to the front door. “Ja, what do you -oh Hello Roland. Bitte, come in. Cedric and I are having a chat, and you are welcome to join.”

“Danke, I’d be happy to chat with my bruders. Hallo Cedric!” Roland calls out, sounding relatively cheerful.

Oh no. Cedric is starting to feel a little cornered. He surreptitiously pulls out his phone - the screen is indeed shattered, but it does light up when he presses the correct button and checks his text messages. He’s got several missed phone calls from Captain Ash’val. The two of them are walking back to the living room he’s sitting in. Come on, escape from this conversation! His phone began ringing, it was Ramiel. God emperor bless you!i “Hey Rami, what’s going on?”

“Mattias is being brought to the clinic for treatment by his warband. He’s been  badly beaten and half-stripped out of his armor. He’s alive for now, but he’s in bad shape. I really think that it would help if you were at there to help him stay calm while he gets patched up.” Ramiel informed him, voice low and worried.

“Fuck! But he-he was fine when he arrived on Ancient Terra a couple of months ago. He-he didn’t somehow go back to M42 and come back again, did he?” Cedric asked, alarm shooting through him as he got up to his feet. “He was… He was brought to Holy Terra before he… Before he was…”

“I know that he was uninjured when he first came to Ancient Terra. According to the Crusade leader, they were meeting with a different crusade, this one lead by a chaplain captain. The chaplain wanted to talk to him privately. After their conversation he left with his crusade and Mattias didn’t. It took them an hour to find him, and he’s badly hurt.”

“That bastard’s doing it again. Fuck!” Cedric swore “I’ll be at the clinic as soon as I can. Stay safe, and be smart Rami.”

“You too, Cedric!’ Ramiel answered before ending the call. 

Unfortunately for Cedric, before he could try and leave Arnault’s house, he had to get through both Arnault and Roland, who were staring at him with intensity. 

“Hey, so I need to go. I hate to cut this conversation short, but -” Cedric started.

“We overheard your little talk with Ramiel. You will explain to us right now who this bastard harming Primaris Marines is. We have been patient, waiting for you to talk to us. We aren’t waiting anymore.” Arnault growled, lunging forward and grabbing Cedric by the back of the neck.

“Roland… Help!” Cedric called out plaintively, trying to wiggle his way to freedom.

“Nein, you will answer our questions. Who is causing this harm? Now is not to be silent, like mortal martyrs. Let us help you.” Roland answered, staring at Cedric impassively.

“I don’t know for certain which chaplain it was!” Cedric protested, wriggling more, trying to escape.

“You have your suspicions. Talk, little brother. Now!” Arnault half-snarled at him.

“Chaplain Mephisteil Petras! He was the one who killed at least a dozen primaris marines, including his own Apprentice, Ramiel! He’s here on Holy Terra. We don’t know for sure if he’s from the time he was running around beating Primaris Marines to death, but he’s beaten firstborn Marines to the point that their crusade leaders have sent them to the clinic for treatment twice to my knowledge.” Cedric blurted out, a scowl on his face “Will you let me go now? I need to help keep another brother from dying to firstborn machinations and tempers.”

"I am going to kill him." Arnault responded. His voice was steady and calm, but there was a dangerous glint in his eyes.

"We. We are going to kill him." Roland corrected Arnault, shaking his head a little.

"Uhm... We don't know for certain that it was Petras who beat up Mattias..." Cedric pointed out, anxiously.

"True, but this sort of behavior is not something that just goes away." Arnault rumbled "And he was the one who organized the exile of myself and Roland because of our bonds." And because of his writing sins, but Arnault wasn't going to go into that.

“Danke, for finally telling us, Cedric. We will accompany you to the clinic.” Roland murmured as Arnault set him down on his feet. 

“Ja. Let’s go.” The Emperor’s Champion rumbled, a deep-set scowl on his face as the three of them sprinted out of the cozy home and off to the Astartes-run clinic.

[egrets-not-regrets]

Finally you told your older brothers Cedric! Really took them cornering the scout to do it too. I don’t remember, but did Cedric know that Petras organized Arnault and Roland’s exile? Also I wouldn’t put it past Petras on threatening or using someone’s bonded to get what he wants (ie. More poison filled delights from a certain Slaaneshi Emperor’s Children Astartes).

Talking to Older Brothers

This is the next part in Cedric’s adventures in the Astartes Husbandry AU, and specifically the Introducing New Primaris Black Templars arc. For other adventures click here and here. First. Previous. Next.  Thank you very much to @kit-williams for allowing me to borrow her ocs Roland and Arnault and @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan for allowing me to borrow her OC Ramiel

Tagged:  @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @i-am-a-dragon34

Warnings: mentions of petras, death threats, if there is anything else I need to tag, please tell me!

Summary: After leaving the base, Cedric goes to talk to Roland, then later Arnault.

Cedric only enters the bakery once he’s certain that he isn’t being followed. There is, as he’s expected, a long line of eager mortals inspecting the delicious foods for sale. He deliberately takes in a deep breath through his nose, the mouth-wateringly delicious scents of the lovingly hand-crafted pastries and other baked goods a welcome distraction from the ugly feelings still eating away at his hearts like the most wicked of poisons. He lets out the breath he’d taken slowly, through his mouth, before inhaling through his nose again.

He does this several times, eyes closed as he lets the chatter of mortals wash over him. He’s not listening to any one conversation in particular, but allowing the sounds to help ground him. Cedric opens his eyes as he hears the careful, distinctive footsteps of Roland walking up to him. He’s not surprised that the mortal shop-helper already went off to go get Roland, as he is an Astartes, though a familiar face in this particular bakery. 

“Are you here for baked goods, Cedric? Or have you come to talk to me about something?” Roland asks, looking him over carefully, a considering frown on his face.

“... I need to speak with you, privately. But I did bring money to buy some of the delicious bread.” Cedric answered earnestly. Pallas and Olivar were healed to the point where they were being slowly introduced to baseline foods. There were few things better than the baked goods made by Roland’s Bonded in Cedric’s opinion, and he hoped to get them both a treat…

If he survives the punishment for attacking Chief Apothecary Melinth, he hopes to give them the bread himself. Otherwise, he’s sure that Ramiel will share the bread with them for him. Cedric’s superiors in the base have been distressingly lenient with him so far, but he’s quite certain that has come to an end. But that was a problem for Later Cedric to deal with. 

“Follow me, then, to the back. Do you mind helping me knead the dough? I had to run an errand this morning and we are a bit behind on some of the larger orders that came in while I was away.” Roland asked, gesturing for Cedric to follow him into the back of the bakery. 

“I’d be happy to help.” Cedric answered earnestly. He smiles cheerfully as he sees you working diligently on some kind of fruit filling for the carefully arranged trays of tart-shells, waiting to be filled and finished cooking. “Hallo!” He calls out to you.

“Good afternoon, Cedric. It’s good to see you again. You’ve been pretty busy these past couple of months. New apothecary training?” You ask, giving him a small smile.

Cedric stills for a moment, face solemn “I wish it were something like that. I do apologize for being so absent recently. Things have been… Tumultuous, as of late. It’s what I wanted to talk to Roland about… Arnault as well, though I plan on talking to him later today.”  He goes over to the sink, washing his hand properly before heading over to the kneading table, grabbing one of the balls of dough and starting to work it in his hands. 

Roland washes his hands as well, and joins him in kneading the bread. He asks “What has been going on up at the base?”

Cedric focused on the way the bread dough felt in his hands as he pushed, pulled and folded it for a couple of seconds before answering, making sure not to put too much strength into manipulating the dough, or else it would tear. The repetitive motions and the care with which he needed to manipulate the bread, while also using some of his strength to get the dough to cooperate properly helped him stay calm as he explained, briefly glancing at you before switching over to Gothic “Over the past couple of months, there have been four new arrivals from M42. All four of them have been Primaris Black Templars. All of them badly injured. Two of them died, despite every effort to get them to a point of stability.” 

Cedric felt the bread tear in his hands and his eyes stung. The young apothecary huffed in frustration, shaking his head as he kneaded the dough back together, suppressing a growl of frustration, willing himself to find the calm that he’d very nearly achieved. 

“It’s unusual for an Astartes to die on Terra.” Roland remarked, also in Gothic, so as to not worry you. “Do you know what they plan on doing with the bodies?”

Cedric scowled “It does not matter what they want to do with the bodies up at the base - and I know what the chief apothecary wants to do with them. But since they are Black Templars and I am the highest ranking Apothecary of their chapter that any of them can get ahold of, I get to decide what happens to them. The organs that were salvageable have already been taken-” Damn it, he tore the bread dough again. A frustrated grunt leaves him as he mashes the torn pieces of dough back together, scowling fiercely “-and I intend on having Malachai and Lestras cremated. I will be speaking with local mortals who have facilities to properly burn their bodies, and intend on having their remains burned by the end of the week. Ramiel is getting the necessary supplies for the Rites of Remembrance, and I do have a holy place in mind for the Rites to be performed.”

Cedric put down the thoroughly kneaded dough ball into a loaf-pan, so that it could prove again and then be cooked. He reached for a second dough ball, his hands squeezing into the soft, giving substance. 

“Is this holy place off-base?” Roland asked perceptively as he set the dough ball he’d been working on in its own tin and grabbed another.

“Ja. There is a beautiful baseline church nearby, with stained-glass windows and a bell that rings beautifully when it is rung. One of the Sisters who tends to the spiritual needs of the mortals is bonded to an Astartes.” Cedric explained. He hesitated for a moment, knowing that he should be fully truthful about this particular Cousin, to avoid any potential… Problems “A pre-heresy Word Bearer Chaplain by the name of Lykus. We’ve spoken a couple of times.”

“And here I thought you tried to avoid every chaplain who wasn’t Ramiel for mysterious reasons.” Roland murmured, a teasing smile on his face “I have seen him around, occasionally. He seems a decent sort, and from well before the Fall of his legion.”

“Ramiel and I plan on holding the Rites of Remembrance in that church as soon as he has everything he needs. The two other Primaris Black Templars would be attending as well, though they’ll need assistance to get to the church, as their wounds are extensive and some of them limit their mobility. I was… We were wondering if you wished to attend.” Cedric explained, this new ball of dough tearing in his hands as he asked. The young apothecary wordlessly grumbles in frustration, rolling the two halves back together between his hands before going back to kneading the dough. He can’t quite look at Roland as he waits for the other’s answer.

“I would be honored to attend the Rites of Remembrance, and to meet the newly arrived Brothers as well.” Roland murmured, his voice warm.

Cedric risked peeking over at Roland. Stilling for a moment as he saw the gentle smile on the older Templar’s face. He swallowed hard, grateful beyond words for his response. “I… Thank you. If… If you wished for your bonded to attend, should she wish to, she would be… She would be welcome.”

Roland’s eyes softened a little and he set down the dough ball he’d been kneading, turning to fully face Cedric. He reached out slowly and pulled Cedric in close, hugging him tightly. “I would be honored to attend, and if you would be more comfortable with this event being Astartes only mein bakerin would understand.”

Some of the poisonous wrath in his hearts faded, as his older Brother hugged him. Cedric was careful to put down the dough in his hands so he didn’t accidentally mash it into Roland’s back as he hugged the other back. If he hid his face in the other’s shoulder for a moment or two as even more tears fell from his treacherous eyes…

Well, Roland was kind enough not to mention it, only hugging him tighter still. “Losing brothers is never easy, and grieving for them isn’t a sin, nor is it a sign of weakness.”

“... There is much to do, before I can grieve them. But I will, once they are resting, and my injured Brothers are healed.” Cedric answered quietly, slowly letting go of Roland and turning back to the ask of kneading dough. 

“... Grief does not wait patiently for one to have the time for it.” Roland warned Cedric “If you try to ignore your grief, it will try und consume you from the inside out. Terra is… Terra is a safer place to process these kinds of emotions, difficult though it is.”

“I will keep that in mind, Bruder Roland.” Cedric half-grumbled, though he did accept the older Templar’s word of warning for what it was. “... I need to tell Arnault of the upcoming Rites of Remembrance as well. I sought you out first as the bakery is closer to the base.”

Roland hummed in acknowledgement before asking “Is there anything else that you want to tell me?”

Cedric hesitated for a moment before shaking his head “Not right now, but thank you for listening.” He slowly let go of one of his older brother and started kneading a dough ball, letting out his frustrations on the soon-to-be loaves of bread.

Roland watched him for a long moment before returning to kneading as well “Alright. But if there is something that weighs on your hearts, or you are struggling with something ,you know you can always come to me, and I will help as best as I can.”

Cedric nodded, shifting a little from foot to foot “I will keep that in mind. Thank you, Roland.”

“All is well.” The older Templar responded with a small smile.

Cedric kneaded bread until he felt somewhere close to calm, before washing his hands and saying goodbye to both Roland and his bonded. He was fairly sure that Arnault and his bonded were at home, at this time of day, and planned on stopping by, to see if they’d talk. 

~

The young apothecary made his way over to where Arnault and Angela lived, pausing for a moment when his astartes-sized phone began ringing in his pocket. He paused, stepping to one side of the sidewalk so as to not block foot traffic before pulling the device out of his pocket. The name and number identified the caller as Captain Ash’val.

Cedric silently weighed the pros and cons of answering this phone call as it continued to ring in his hands. On one hand, this could be important, he might being recalled to base because a medical emergency was either happening or inbound and they needed all hands on deck. One of his injured brothers could be reacting poorly to being tended to by firstborn Apothecaries, or had taken a turn for the worse. On the other hand he had snapped at the other in anger, and he had a physical altercation with the chief apothecary of the base… The consequences of that, he knew he was going to be facing shortly after returning to said base. 

Cedric continued to stare at the phone in his hand, paralyzed by indecision. Should he put the phone back into his pocket, pretend that it was on silent, or that he just hadn’t heard it, distracted by the sights and sounds of Gannet Point? Should he face whatever trial this was sure to be now? What should he d-

“Cedric?” Miss Angela called out from behind him, causing the young Black Templar to startle and fumble with his phone. Despite his best efforts, it fell to the ground with a deafening and decidedly bad sounding smack as it  landed screen-first onto the edge of the sidewalk near the road. 

“I.. Uhm. Hello miss Angela!” Cedric managed out, attempting to smile down at the meek baseline human before he quickly knelt and scooped up his now broken phone. Dorn damn it all, today was not at all going the way he’d hoped it would. “I was hoping to speak to you and Arnault, if you are not busy…”

Some of the tension that Miss Angela had been keeping in her shoulders relaxed a little and she responded with “Of course I’d be happy to talk to you. Arnault as well. He got a call from Captain Ash’val not too long ago, actually. He said that something happened at the base and you stormed off, and that no one’s been able to get into contact with you for several hours, since. Arnault, love, Cedric’s over here!” That last sentence she half-shouted.

Arnault materialized out of nowhere, clearly having somehow acquired a teleportation array and the ability to use it effectively. “There you are! Come, we will talk in our home. I’ve heard what Ash’val and Melinth said what happened. I want to hear your side of it. Where have you been?”

Cedric fidgeted feeling guilty for worrying the older Black Templar “I left the base and knew I was being followed, so I shook off the person tailing me and went to the bakery that Roland and his bonded run together and talked to Roland for a while while kneading bread, to help calm down. It… it worked more or less.”

Arnault heaved a sigh at that, shaking his head a little “I am glad that you decided to find a safe way to vent your fury though why did you feel the need to shake off whoever was trying to catch u to you from the base?”

“Because I knew whoever was following me wasn’t one of my fellow Primaris Brothers and I… Don’t know how well I would have reacted to interacting with a fairborn marine who wasn’t a Black Templar in the fury I was in.”

Arnault hummed, nodding a little in understanding “Ja, I get that.”

“The door’s open, love! Once you two are ready to come inside.” Angela called out from the front door of her home before entering.

“Inside, now.” Arnault ordered Cedric, pointing at the door, a stern expression on his face.

“Yes sir.” Cedric responded, obediently doing as he was told as the older Black Templar followed closely behind him.

~

“Do either of you want something to drink?” Angela asked from the kitchen as Cedric and Arnault entered the cozy home. 

“Uhm… Some tea would be nice, if you don’t mind, Miss Angela.” Cedric answered after Arnault stared at him silently for several seconds.

“I’ll have a cup of tea as well, mein Engel.” Arnault called out with a small smile on his face. It faded and he addressed Cedric tersely “You, sit. Couch.”

Cedric barely managed to suppress the instinctual flinch the flat tones and sharp orders from an older brother instinctually provoked. “Yes sir.” he carefully took off his shoes first, putting them in the shoe bin before heading to the aforementioned couch, sitting on the edge of it, anxious. He couldn’t even look at Arnault at all, much less in the eye as he waited for the other to do or say something.

A short but very audible sigh left Arnault as the Emperor’s Champion made his way over to where Cedric was sitting, joining him on the couch. “What I was told by Chief Apothecary Melinth was that he asked you about irregularities that he found in the geneseeds implanted in Malachai and Lestras. In the ensuing argument, you escalated things violently before storming out of the base. Care to explain what happened?”

“Did… Did Apothecary Melinth say why I became violent?” Cedric asked, doing his best to keep his temper in check. Apparently the bread kneading hadn’t been as effective as he’d hoped it would be, as the fury was once more surging to the surface. 

“He did not deign to go into specifics, and I was more focused on finding you before you picked a fight with some renegades or chaos bastards, or were found by them and they needled you into causing a much messier problem. What happened?” Arnault asked. He sounded… Worried? And non-judgmental.

Cedric risked looking directly at Arnault, trying to gauge the other’s emotional state. He looked mildly worried, but otherwise calm.  “He accused me of lying about my origins, and the origins of the other Primaris Marines. That instead of being created by the Mechanicum, we are a group of Bile’s abominations in the shape of Space Marines, meant to infiltrate loyal chapters and weaken them from within.”

“He what?” Arnault growled, a thunderous frown appearing on his face. 

Before the older Templar could say anything else, Angela walked into the living room, carrying three mugs of tea and a couple of plates of fruit and crackers. “Here you go, love, Cedric. I also grabbed a little snack, in case either of you were hungry. Do you want me to stay for this conversation? Or is this something private between brothers?” 

Cedric looked over at Arnault, unsure what the other’s decision about that was going to be. Much of this conversation probably wouldn’t make sense to her, even if they did speak in one of the local languages that she did know, rather than in rapid-fire Gothic. 

Arnault sighed “This conversation is going to be one that won’t make much sense to those who are not Astartes, mein Engel, and there are some things that have been verboten to explain, even to our bonded. I adore having you near me whenever possible, but this is an astartes-only conversation.  I hope you understand.”

“I don’t understand the subject matter, but I will let you talk to your younger brother privately. I’ll be in my sewing room, if you need or want my help or presence.” Angela murmured, a small smile on her face as she walked over and gave Arnault a kiss on the lips before walking off.

“I will always want you near me, unless there is something dangerous going on. Then I will want you to be as safe as possible. Danke schon for understanding, liebling.” Arnault murmured, kissing her back, a loving and affectionate smile on his face. 

Angela nodded and left the room, with Arnault’s gaze lingering on her as she left. Once the sounds of her quiet footsteps could not longer be easily heard, the older Black Templar refocused on the conversation “Is that when you got violent? The presumption that he made that you und your Primaris Brothers were not who you said you were, but infiltrators and saboteurs?”

“No, though I will admit to yelling at him for how incorrect an assumption that was. I became physically violent after he repeatedly crowded into my physical space and attempted to grab me while I was trapped against one of the walls of his office.” Cedric paused for a moment, a slight shiver running down his back at the sheer panic and fury that had been running through him at the time. He continued to confess to Arnault “He tried to either grab or strike me and I responded by ducking his hands and kicking his bad knee out from under him. After that the physical fight continued until I could get to the door to his office and leave. I almost physically bumped into captain Ash’val as I fled the base… And I think I snapped at him, and my words to him were uncalled for and rude. After that I made sure to lose whoever was tracking me from the base and went to go speak to Roland… Though I didn’t tell him about the fight I got into.”

“What did you talk to Roland about?” Arnault prompted, his voice measured and calm.

“There have been four more Primaris who’ve arrived in the past couple of months, all of them fellow Black Templars… And all four of them were badly injured. Two of them are in the medical ward, recovering and going through physical therapy for some of their injuries. The other two…” His voice cracked and broke for a couple of moments. Cedric allowed himself a moment to get his words back before answering, voice quieter and shaking “The other two died. The last one we had a bit of forewarning about his condition and where he was going to appear, because of a vision Jophiel received. Despite all of Chief Apothecary Melinth’s skills, he was unable to save Malachai. Less than twenty-four hours later, both Malachai and Lestras were on surgical tables again, this time led by Melinth and six other high to mid ranking apothecaries of Loyalist, Renegade and Chaos leanings, to study the differences between Firstborn and Primaris Marines.”

Cedric paused for a moment “The newly dead brothers, in addition to the new living ones were what I spoke to Roland about. Along with the fact that Ramiel and I intend to have their Rites of Remembrance held soon, ideally by the end of the week. There is a church in town with beautiful stained-glass windows we intend on holding the Rites there. I have spoken to the Astartes who works there. He’s.” Cedric pauses for a moment, looking over at Arnault “A pre-heresy World Bearer Chaplain, with a bonded who is a Sister. Is… Is that going to be a problem?”

“... Do you know if he is corrupted at all?” Arnault asked, a small frown appearing on his face.

“I’ve talked to him a couple of times and he earnestly believes in the divinity of the god emperor. The fall of his legion distresses him greatly, from what little he’s spoken to me about it.” Cedric reported earnestly. “He shows no signs of corruption, to my knowledge.” Cedric also dutifully informs Arnault the name of the church and it’s address, in case the other wants to look at the church and speak to the chaplain himself first. “Oh! One last thing, if you wish and if she wishes, you may bring your bonded to the Rites of Remembrance.”

“You mentioned that all four of these new Bruders were found injured - Ramiel was also badly injured, upon being found here on Holy Terra as well. Do you know how they got those injuries?” Arnault asked, leaning a little towards Cedric as he asked, a very focused look on his face.

Cedric stilled. How much of the truth should he tell in this moment, without asking his brothers first? And he only had suspicions about who inflicted the wounds on Malachai and Lestras, as he hadn’t been able to ask them before they died. But Pallius and Olivar had both confirmed that they’d been badly beaten by Petras in M42 before awakening in M3 on Holy Terra. “As far as I know, they were injured in M42 and were brought by whatever force is behind this to holy Terra, in this time.”

“That doesn’t answer my question, Cedric. Do you know how they got so badly injured?” Arnault reiterated, his eyes narrowing a little as he spoke.

“I can’t say for sure how Malachai and Lestras ended up with injuries that they had.” though he had his suspicions, especially with Malachai’s injuries. They were, unfortunately, very familiar to Cedric. “But I do know that they’d gotten those injuries during the course of their service to the god emperor.” 

Arnault’s eyes narrowed a little further “Cedric… Ash’val showed me pictures of some of the wounds that were inflicted on your brothers - including Ramiel. I know what it looks like when someone has been attacked by Lightning Claws. All of them were attacked by an Astartes. None of them had defensive wounds, which means they did not fight back and you knew where all their injuries were, including internal ones.”

Fuck! What should he do? Cedric… Cedric did trust Arnault, he really did. But this wasn’t just his decision to make… Though, technically as the only Black Templar Apothecary tending to the injured Black Templars in the base it kind of was, in a legal sense. “... They were punished. The sins they allegedly committed vary by Brother, but the one that had them ultimately killed was one that they could not change, nor help.”

“Explain. Now.” Arnault ordered, his face a twisted into a thunderous scowl.

“I told you earlier that the Primaris rollout nearly broke the Chapter. Part of the reason why is because some Black Templars were killing Primaris Marines. A percentage of these murdered Primaris marines were the chosen apprentices of other Firstborn Marines who did not take kindly to their proteges being murdered. It was very nearly a full-on civil war within the chapter, and it…” Cedric swallowed hard, unable to look at Arnault directly as he continued to explain. He had a desire to curl up into as small of a ball as his large frame would allow, but managed to  It only stopped after the High Marshal gathered the full fleet together for a meeting and informed everyone that we Primaris marines were here to stay, and that we were not heretical abominations. If anyone wished to disagree with that, they could fight him for leadership over the chapter. None of his challengers survived the ritual duels, including the marine who was responsible for the deaths of all five of my fellow Primaris Black Templars.”

“Are any of the Black Templars who killed younger brothers currently here on Ancient Terra?” Arnault asked, his voice hard and growly. 

Fuck!

“We… We don’t know for certain.” Cedric answered truthfully… Sort of. Petras was on Holy Terra, but none of them had managed to work up the courage to confront the Chaplain directly, to find out when exactly the chaplain was from. Petras was well over four hundred years old, when he had been felled by High Marshal Helbreicht after all, and had spent well over two hundred years as an honorable and well-regarded chaplain of the Black Templars. 

“Explain to me, what you mean by that. In detail, Cedric.” Arnault growled, still scowling at Cedric.

The younger Black Templar tried very hard not to start obviously panicking. Cedric wasn’t sure how to explain in a way that wouldn’t potentially cause Arnault to fly into a rage. “I… Uhm.. Ah…” He grabbed the cool mug of tea that had been created for him and took a sip from it very slowly, trying desperately to figure out how to word things. Before he could come up with something to tell Roland, there was a strong knock on the door. “You should probably answer the door, Brother Roland.” Cedric timidly suggested, hiding behind the mug of tea as best as he could manage. 

Arnault grumbled under his breath as he stomped over to the front door. “Ja, what do you -oh Hello Roland. Bitte, come in. Cedric and I are having a chat, and you are welcome to join.”

“Danke, I’d be happy to chat with my bruders. Hallo Cedric!” Roland calls out, sounding relatively cheerful.

Oh no. Cedric is starting to feel a little cornered. He surreptitiously pulls out his phone - the screen is indeed shattered, but it does light up when he presses the correct button and checks his text messages. He’s got several missed phone calls from Captain Ash’val. The two of them are walking back to the living room he’s sitting in. Come on, escape from this conversation! His phone began ringing, it was Ramiel. God emperor bless you!i “Hey Rami, what’s going on?”

“Mattias is being brought to the clinic for treatment by his warband. He’s been  badly beaten and half-stripped out of his armor. He’s alive for now, but he’s in bad shape. I really think that it would help if you were at there to help him stay calm while he gets patched up.” Ramiel informed him, voice low and worried.

“Fuck! But he-he was fine when he arrived on Ancient Terra a couple of months ago. He-he didn’t somehow go back to M42 and come back again, did he?” Cedric asked, alarm shooting through him as he got up to his feet. “He was… He was brought to Holy Terra before he… Before he was…”

“I know that he was uninjured when he first came to Ancient Terra. According to the Crusade leader, they were meeting with a different crusade, this one lead by a chaplain captain. The chaplain wanted to talk to him privately. After their conversation he left with his crusade and Mattias didn’t. It took them an hour to find him, and he’s badly hurt.”

“That bastard’s doing it again. Fuck!” Cedric swore “I’ll be at the clinic as soon as I can. Stay safe, and be smart Rami.”

“You too, Cedric!’ Ramiel answered before ending the call. 

Unfortunately for Cedric, before he could try and leave Arnault’s house, he had to get through both Arnault and Roland, who were staring at him with intensity. 

“Hey, so I need to go. I hate to cut this conversation short, but -” Cedric started.

“We overheard your little talk with Ramiel. You will explain to us right now who this bastard harming Primaris Marines is. We have been patient, waiting for you to talk to us. We aren’t waiting anymore.” Arnault growled, lunging forward and grabbing Cedric by the back of the neck.

“Roland… Help!” Cedric called out plaintively, trying to wiggle his way to freedom.

“Nein, you will answer our questions. Who is causing this harm? Now is not to be silent, like mortal martyrs. Let us help you.” Roland answered, staring at Cedric impassively.

“I don’t know for certain which chaplain it was!” Cedric protested, wriggling more, trying to escape.

“You have your suspicions. Talk, little brother. Now!” Arnault half-snarled at him.

“Chaplain Mephisteil Petras! He was the one who killed at least a dozen primaris marines, including his own Apprentice, Ramiel! He’s here on Holy Terra. We don’t know for sure if he’s from the time he was running around beating Primaris Marines to death, but he’s beaten firstborn Marines to the point that their crusade leaders have sent them to the clinic for treatment twice to my knowledge.” Cedric blurted out, a scowl on his face “Will you let me go now? I need to help keep another brother from dying to firstborn machinations and tempers.”

"I am going to kill him." Arnault responded. His voice was steady and calm, but there was a dangerous glint in his eyes.

"We. We are going to kill him." Roland corrected Arnault, shaking his head a little.

"Uhm... We don't know for certain that it was Petras who beat up Mattias..." Cedric pointed out, anxiously.

"True, but this sort of behavior is not something that just goes away." Arnault rumbled "And he was the one who organized the exile of myself and Roland because of our bonds." And because of his writing sins, but Arnault wasn't going to go into that.

“Danke, for finally telling us, Cedric. We will accompany you to the clinic.” Roland murmured as Arnault set him down on his feet. 

“Ja. Let’s go.” The Emperor’s Champion rumbled, a deep-set scowl on his face as the three of them sprinted out of the cozy home and off to the Astartes-run clinic.