#oc: cedric

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

The Light of Truth

Author's note: More of the Primaris Boys in Husbandry. Thank you to @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow Pallius, Cedric & Olivar. Thank you to @c-u-c-koo-4-40k for letting me borrow Khopesh. Thank you to @kit-williams for letting me borrow Ghosk.

Warning: Character death. Characters fighting. Bloodshed. Uh. Let me know if I need to add anything.

Summary: Cedric gets a message. A brother is nearly rescued, another is nearly lost. Petras reveals his true colors to more than just Primaris Marines.

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

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @ms--lobotomy , @thevoidscreams, @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

Tagged: @felinisnoctis

Cedric's wrist mounted vox gets a communication ping.

[I am uncertain how much time I have left before I return to the embrace of the Omnissiah.] Castiel sends in his message through agonizing, and coughs blood from his lungs raggedly. There are some spots of blood, mucus and the mechanical fluids used to keep him alive that spatter on his vox. Ugh, despite how much the Mechanicum has enhanced him, he’s still so wretchedly fleshed.

After a few wet ragged coughs Castiel painfully continues, his voice more staticy [but I don't want to die without letting someone know the truth. Embedded in this message is a holo recording of a meeting between Chaplain Mephestil Petras of the Black Templars and a Chaos Marine… as well as his reactions to my queries on the subject. He murdered me. I hope this gets to you. The God Emperor Protects and provides for us all.]

Castiel had also sent the holo recording of Petras going too far in his punishment. When Petras finds and attacks him on Ancient Terra he's able to record some of it, as well as his agonizing cries as he tries to escape, but dies to Petras again. Castiel had managed to have his eyes- which were cybernetic to record Petras’s words and actions- and the recording cuts off after he finishes dying.

He had the message on a delayed sending, hoping that Petras wouldn't notice the vox message. Tied to send when twelve minutes after he flatlined, and he sent coordinates of where he lay dead, or so he hoped. Castiel had wanted to send it to one of his fellow Black Templars primaris Marines.

His last thoughts are Prayers to the Omnissiah that his message will get through to one of them. That Castiel’s death won’t be a waste, that at least someone will have this proof. 

Castiel knew in his hearts that it likely wouldn’t do anything much. Petras has killed Primaris Marines before with only a slap on the wrist. But at least it is something and the First borns will be interested in consorting with Chaos. Even though his life is worthless to them.

~

Cedric reads the written message, his mouth going dry, as a slow-burning fury ignites his hearts once again. He mutes the video, before playing it, as he is currently sitting down in the clinic’s staff cafeteria, and he has little doubt that the sounds of pain and misery will immediately attract the attention of everyone who could hear it.

Two. That’s two, in less than twenty-four hours. While Mattias wasn’t dead, he had been placed in a medically induced coma, to reduce the amount of movement that the young Astartes was capable of doing, as the injury to his spinal column could be operated on and treated, but was very delicate and any movements could potentially permanently render his legs unusable without spinal prosthetics or other augments that would be incredibly difficult to acquire on Ancient and Holy Terra. 

He knows that Anrir and the other Night Lords are incredibly dangerous. Its just for some reason they have decided to drag him protectively under their bat wings, rather than tear him to shreds with their talons. For now at least.

Claude and Khopesh are away from where Ghosk and the others are setting the stage for the ‘fight’ between ‘raven guard’ Anrir (or whatever name he’ll be using) and the Claw will ‘attack’ him.

Claude and Khopesh watch through binoculars as the staged fight happens- and Captain Kasz Kalleran takes the bait and falls for the trap, hook, line and sinker. His Captain did enjoy it when he could be painted as the hero of the stories he tells, regardless of the truth of the matter.

The Claw gets ‘chased off’ by the flock of Ravens who surround the wounded ‘bird’ and help patch him up. Claude closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath. Anrir is far older than he is, and knows what he’s doing. Had chosen to do this- had planned for contingencies and decided on this course of action.

Claude is distracted by a vox text message he gets from Cedric and reads it with a concerned frown on his face.  [You wanted to talk? I’m on lunch break right now. Get Ramiel. This is urgent.]

He sent a message to Claude via vox. [You wanted to talk? I’m on lunch break right now. Get Ramiel. This is urgent.]

[On my way.] Claude responds. [Where do you want to meet?]

Claude frowns, concern churning in his gut as he sends a message to Ramiel about Cedric’s request. Ramiel responds immediately to his message and sends one to Cedric as well.

“I have to go- Cedric needs my help with something,” Claude informs Khopesh.

“Have fun with that,” Khopesh says, “I’ll check on the others, see how they are doing after the ‘fight’ with the Raven Guards.”

Claude nods, “sounds good.”

[The park nearest to The Clinic. We should be able to talk freely there.] Cedric texted both Ramiel and Claude. 

While he waited for them to respond, he walked over to where Olivar was currently sitting, scowling into the bowl of food in front of him. “You know it’s not going to leap out at you and try to murder you. What’s on your mind?”

“You told me that He is on Ancient Terra, too, right? Why the fuck were we sent here, back into his reach? Unless He is from before He started…” Olivar swallowed hard, a low, wordless growl leaving him. “Should we be keeping what The Bastard has done to us a secret? Your mentor did not tolerate his grox-shite, at least when it came to you, no matter what The Shithead said you did, or didn’t do. Surely there’s got to be at least one Firstborn marine you can talk to about all of this shit.”

“... There are a couple I’ve told some of what’s happened to. In M42. They kind of bullied me into telling them, but given what they’re like, I really should have realized that they were going to do so, sooner or later. Do you remember what I told you about Bruders Roland and Arnault?” Cedric asked, rocking back on his heels a little. 

“... Yeah… One’s a battle brother,” Olivar says, “The other’s an Emperor’s Champion… something about Bonding? Bonded?”

“... Trust me, the Bonding and Bonded conversation is for when you are better healed and we aren’t doing emergency scrambling. But I think… If you, Ramiel  and Pallius agree… I think I might ask both of them to help me lodge a formal complaint against Petras, to get some kind of official record as to the grox-shite and cruelty he is capable of being known publicly.”

“That sounds vaguely ominous Ced,” Olivar says, his scowl shifting a little. He scoffs a little, “didn’t we try that before and were told ‘stop being whiny little bitch and take the ‘character building’ lumps and suck it up?’ Why would that change since we’re here?”

“Bonds are wonderful things, I promise! From what I’ve seen, they are good. Also, that was by other firstborn brothers in M42. I told them that Petras killed a dozen primaris marines in M42 and that both of them immediately swore to kill him. I entirely believe that they meant that, too.”

“I mean… you are lovable Ced,” Olivar says slightly teasingly, “And Apothecaries are hard to come by. Of course they want to protect you.”

Cedric huffed a little and shook his head “I don’t think it’s just because I’m an Apothecary. They were furious at the thought of younger brothers being killed for existing. Not that I’m advocating for Chaplain Petras to die, just to… To be brought before a tribunal and made to answer for his crimes.” 

By the god-emperor, does the wounded fury and sorrow howling in his hearts want Petras dead. Not just dead, but killed slowly, painfully. To have the fucker be made to beg and plead for mercy, for an ounce of compassion and be shown exactly as much as he gave Cedric’s Brothers. 

None. 

But that path led towards falling to Khorne, or perhaps Slaanesh, depending on the way he went about it. So formal sanctioning it was. For his own safety, and the safety of others.

“I wonder how Justice and punishment are delivered on Ancient Terra? I think that’s something we should find out, before we do anything or say anything.” Olivar scratches his cheek, “hm… let me think on it. Unless the Bastard does something… Bad here.”

“He’s killed a Primaris Tech marine. I just received Castiel’s dying vox-messages and video-footage of his murder.” Cedric answered, shaking his head a little. “Mattias - another Primaris Marine, is currently under anesthesia and in surgery because of the complications from Petras beating the fuck out of him yesterday.”

“Fucking bastard, you have convinced me, I’ll talk to who ever it is about his discipline and punishment methods.” Olivar hisses, “I remember Cassie- quiet, dutiful and always helped with weapons and armor maintenance. He was so happy to be chosen as a Tech Marine. He loved to talk about a certain kind of cog wheel.”

Cedric nodded, saying “I’m going to check in with Pallius first, then Ramiel. To see how they both feel about going forwards with what we know of petras’ crimes. I will be taking point on this. As the Apothecary of the group… And the one who survived longest in M42 before being sent to Ancient Terra, this is my duty and my burden.” With that he nodded, standing up and heading over to where Pallius was sitting and eating lunch.

~

“Pallius, I’ve run this by Olivar, and I have his vote. I won’t reveal it to you as I don’t want to influence your decision either way. But I… I am asking if you want me to come forward to certain firstborn marines - Brothers Roland and Arnault of the Black Templars, and Captain Ash’val for certain about what Chaplain Petras has done to us. He’s killed at least one Primaris Marine on Ancient Terra. He’s badly wounded Mattias, who is currently in surgery.” Cedric explained, his voice low and quick he gave the other a brief summary of what Castiel had sent to him.

“... If our words and scars can help keep others safe,” Pallius says quietly, “then… then I shall speak of the shameful things.”

“It’s not your shame, what he had done to you, Pallius. It is his. Please, you must remember this.” Cedric urged his brother, his hearts caught in the back of his throat. 

Pallius ducks his head a little at the others words as his eyes become wet and he rubs the grit from his eyes. “I… I’ll try to.”

“Thank you, Pallius. You have Dorn’s own courage.” Cedric murmured, gently pressing his forehead to Pallius’, as an affectionate gesture.

“Keep safe Ced,” Pallius says, closing his eyes and leaning into  Cedric a little, returning the gesture as much as he can. “... You have Dorn’s own courage as well Brother.”

Cedric nodded, walking out of the cafeteria as he read up on what had been sent to his wrist-mounted vox, mind whirling. 

[I got the message from Claude. I’ll be at the park in seven minutes. Do I need to get Catius or Oleandros? Or have them run a Distraction?] Ramiel sends Cedric a text vox message, adding another statement. [Eta five minutes, told Chaplain Bo’shan I was taking my lunch break. He seemed happy about that.]

[I will be there in five minutes.] Claude says a thought occurs to him and he asks [Do you want me to get Jophi?]

[... I  don’t want to involve all of the others just as of yet. Any more of this, and I request that we please speak in person. Neither of you are in trouble.] Cedric vox-texted back, making sure to send the last sentence, so as to not worry them too much. He hoped.

[Wilco.] Ramiel replies. He is worried- just what is going on? He wonders what Cedric has found out or wants to discuss. 

He had to go by Reclusiarch Feldarim’s office to get to where he was going- the other watched him go with a casual glance. But as he didn’t seem too upset, the other let him pass without harassing him. Which gives him a sense of relief, as Chaplain Bo’shan had lightly pressed him for details, and he’d said that he was meeting up with Cedric and Claude for lunch.

He’s able to excuse himself and grabs something to eat. And then ensures to grab enough for Claude and Cedric. Both of them are terrible at remembering to eat. He also grabs some of the homemade ice cream as a sweet treat, just in case the conversation needs such a thing.

Claude replies [Understood- I also have some… interesting information on Justice and Punishment that The Night Lords talked about for Ancient Terra and the Alliance.]

[Good, I have questions about that, which will help in deciding in which way things will go. Whether we go the official route, or take care of trash on our own.] Cedric texted back.

~

He must have one hell of a scowl on his face, because the baseline humans who he passes by all scramble to get the hell out of his way. While normally this would make him feel guilty, especially as the baselines who live on the base are either bonded to one of the marines who lives on base… Or they have nowhere else to live and they work jobs on base in order to pay in kind for housing and food. 

Zariel had heard the whispers and more loud complaints and worried about Fierce Angry Scowling Astarte in black and white scrubs. So he had sent a message to Ash’val, Feldarim, and after a moment’s hesitation, to Hura. Just in case.

“Cedric,” Zariel calls out carefully, “... You know I am here for you, if you need or want to talk about something that’s bothering you. If you want to talk.”

“... I acknowledge this. However, I need to speak with a couple of others. We will decide a few things and then figure out who to reach out to. You are, I will say, on the short list for the… Issue that needs handling.” Cedric responded, falling back on formal wording in order to hopefully get the teal Ultramarine to back off a little. He didn’t have the time to try and shake off a Teal tail. 

“Very well,” Zariel says with a nod, watching the younger Astarte move. “I am honored to have such trust.”

He decides that it would be best not to press him too much. After all- he didn’t want to rile the other and send him into hiding again. The fact that young Claude had managed to teach a Black Templar how to be stealthy and good at it had been… more than a little distressing… As impressed as he’d been after his hearts had stopped feeling like they were going to burst from stress.

Cedric nods brusquely before marching the rest of the way out of the base, still scowling and not in the least bit attempting to hide his expression in the least. 

Zariel also rolls a thought or two in his head. Whatever it was that Cedric had told Roland and Arnault had made the two older Black Templars exceedingly angry.  So he was going to wait before sending a message to the older ones about this… Newest thing.

~

Cedric spotted Ramiel and Claude in one of their favorite spots in the nearby park. The brief stretch of his legs, and outside did help him calm down slightly, though his nerves - and his fury - were still jangling just beneath the surface of his skin. He waved over at the two of them, attempting to smile “Hey… Claude, Ramiel.”

Claude had helped Ramiel set up the basket of food, a blend of baseline human and Astarte food and drinks. They had set it up on one of the wooden benches that was rated for Astartes to sit on safely with the table neatly set out, with a picnic cover neatly tucked around to keep things a bit cleaner.

“Hey Cedric,” Ramiel says, “I thought since it was about lunch time, and you had a Conversation to speak with us, a picnic would help the Look of things. Regardless of what is spoken about.”

“Nice to see you Ced,” Claude says with a grin.

Claude heads to the area specified by Cedric and helps Ramiel set up the picnic that the other had decided to grab. It was a good cover- and they’d get to eat something while they talk about the Urgent matter.

At least on the outset it would look like the three of them were enjoying lunch and a picnic, which would have curious eyes not think anything Suspicious is going on. Not that he thinks that Cedric is doing anything particularly troubling. But it helps throw off any potential watchers, just in case.

 Claude wonders if the Claw is encouraging his paranoia and suspicious tendencies before shaking his head a little and greeting Cedric. He sees the thunderous scowl on the other’s face and suspects that whatever he’s going to say is not going to be great.

He’s proven right as he listens, upset at what Cedric has learned. He goes over the details of what he remembers of the conversation with Khopesh about Justice and Punishments. Ramiel and Cedric agree to speak with Khopesh in public and he sends another message and Khopesh arrives swiftly.

“... A picnic does sound good.” Cedric relented, plopping down next to his Brother, leaning into his familiar warmth. He looked at the spread of food and drinks, deliberately focusing on what he could smell and see before him, in a desperate attempt to calm down, at least a little. 

Ramiel hums one of the prayer hymns that he knows helps Cedric calm down, Claude slowly reaching out and holding one of the Apothecary Apprentic’s hands and lightly squeezing it. Claude joins in on the song, humming the chorus and harmonizing with them, the words whispered in High Gothic.

He hummed along to the hymn, allowing the calming focus to come over him. Anger had it’s place on the battlefield, but too much of it was dangerous. Not only to oneself, but to everyone around the one lost to fury. He squeezed Claude’s hand back gently, managing a rueful smile “I have bad news, worse news, questions, and a proposal, contingent upon the answer to those questions. What do you want to hear first?”

“What’s the worst news?” Claude and Ramiel ask at the same time, bracing themselves.

Claude looks around them glancing at his brothers as he takes some of the bread and spreads jame and nut butter on bread- as well as sprinkling some Astarte nutri-paste and cutting it into thirds for the three of them to eat. 

Claude cast his senses, Warp-related and not to ensure that they weren’t being listened to. Glad that no one was, either through technology or warpy senses he lets go of his crackling humming power and focuses on Cedric’s words. He takes a bite of food to keep the spots of darkness out of his vision.

“Tech-Marine Castiel of the Black Templars was killed earlier today, at the hands of Chaplain Captain Petras. When Tech Marine Castiel became aware that he was going to die, as there was no one to intercede on his behalf, he sent me all of the information he had on the chaplain in question, sending it on a delay to hopefully not arouse suspicion from his murderer.” Cedric revealed, doing his best to keep his voice a low, emotionless monotone. He failed spectacularly, as his voice cracked. He paused, taking a sip from one of the glasses of lemonade before continuing “Brother Mattias of the Black Templars is currently in surgery due to the complications from the beating he received, allegedly from Chaplain Petras, according to the Hydra who brought him into the clinic late last night.”  

“God Emperor curse him,” Ramiel swears softly, before flinching as he realizes the words that had come out of his mouth. “He’s… Perhaps not escalating, but he’s continuing to do what he did back in M42.”

“... He knows he died for Challenging the High Marshal,” Claude says with a frown, his eyes flashing teal as he thinks “... For killing and purging Primaris… and he’s…doing it here when Astartes number far fewer. He’s … not likely to change his ways.”

“Ramiel, I have asked Pallius and Olivar, but I will with-hold their votes until you tell me what you want to do. Should we come forward to certain firstborn marines, and tell them about what Petras has done, both in M42, and on Ancient Terra, or would you rather we handle this ourselves?” Cedric asked, his voice shaking a little, but stubborn ferocity beat in his chest. He would deal with this fucker, one way or the other.

Ramiel reaches over- carefully telegraphing his movements as he gives his brother a side hug. Claude is on Cedric’s other side and does the same thing. The three of them gently hugged each other for a moment. Ramiel gathers his thoughts, which is hard because they keep scattering in a thousand-thousand different directions as he thinks over the other’s words. 

“I think,” Ramiel says, his voice cracking a little, he coughs and then takes a sip of the lemonade laced with hydration rations, “I think, we should go to the First borns, see what they do… if it’s … unsatisfactory …. We can… handle him after the fact.”

Cedric side-hugs Ramiel back, trembling a little with the force of the emotions running rampant within him. He focuses on Claude “You mentioned that the Night Lords spoke of how Astartes dealt Justice in this time period? Please explain to the best of your abilities. Your answers will help me decide whether or not I will come forward with the information to whoever I’m supposed to in an official capacity… Or if I just ask Arnault and Roland if he would please help me murder a bastard. They are both already aware of Petras’ crimes in M42 and swore to kill him.” Their vehement and immediate declarations of Murder had been… Cedric swallowed a little. They had been more gratifying than the young Apothecary had wanted to admit.

“So Khopesh and the Claw of Night Lords knows about why certain… First Born Brothers in M42 don’t like us… And they find that reasoning stupid, foolish and wasteful. Claude nods, “That- actually is one method of Justice that the rest of the chapter’s can’t mess with. Justice for crimes done, unless it’s inter-chapter stuff, or there is a request to intercede on the behalf of the victims, is done in-chapter. Unless their crimes are bad enough that an Example needs to be made.”

Claude gathers his thoughts and pulls out the data slate and reads the notes he’d taken, the conversation that he had with Khopesh. He hands the data slate over so they can read about Hunting- and how the worst of the Astarte criminals, like serial killers, are handed over to the Night Lords, which is one of the worst punishments that can happen to a person. How the Hunt is declared- what happens during it, and after.

“There is a precedent,” Claude says, licking his lips a little, “where if an Astarte is killing other Astarte- that their Chapter, at first are the ones to handle them, but if for whatever reason they can’t or won’t… They tend to be handed over to the Night Lords. I… uh… asked some Questions- and Khopesh seemed… excited about the idea of a Hunt. I think… no, I know he reported the conversation we had about Justice and Punishment to the Claw Leader- Anrir, who’s an Apothecary- who’s older than Hura.”

“... Petras wasn’t the only one killing Primaris Marines in M42. Nor was he the only Firstborn Black Templar to be doing so.” Cedric murmured, his voice low and quiet. “As much as I want… As much as I want to raise bolter and blade against the fucker myself, alongside whoever else wants to kill him. I don’t… I don’t think that simply killing Petras will ensure long-term protection of our fellow Primaris Marines. I will ask Arnault and Roland their opinions on this… But…”

“There are other punishments,” Claude says, “They talked about.. Flaying… among other things. Some. Very graphic descriptions that I won’t go into detail about right now, as well as having the people who were hurt by the person, to either participate in the person’s punishment actively, or have a hand in deciding how they are punished. There is, unfortunately, a need to gather evidence and proof of crimes more than verbal witness evidence.”

“Would the recorded audio-visual recordings of a now-murdered marine be enough evidence?” Cedric asked bluntly. 

“... Will you allow me to ask Khopesh that?” Claude says, “I think so- but I’d need his opinion, he’s been here longer, and knows more about Justice and the legal framework that the Astartes have developed here.”

Cedric nodded “Go for it. You’re the one with contact with him.”

Claude sends Khopesh a vox text [Please don't run to Anrir or the others about this quite yet. But hypothetically, if Ced- er someone had Audio/visual proof about Cas- er I mean, someone else, HYPOTHETICALLY being murdered by Pet- er a third someone else, that is currently,  hypothetically on Ancient Terra right now, and has a history of murdering primaris marines, what would happen? And this person that hypothetically nearly murdered Mat- I mean someone else as well.]

Khopesh hears a pinging noise and looks down at his vox, he can’t stop the grin that grows on his face and thinks to himself, ‘Bingo!’

“You seem pleased, something good?” Ghosk notes, lightly pressing the younger member of the Claw for more information if the other wanted to share.

“... Not yet- but soon. Hopefully.” Khopesh says. He’s not going to tell Anrir or the other members of the Claw yet. Per Claude’s request, for now. But finally. He’s glad that Claude is finally trusting them, or at least him more. 

“Alright,” Ghosk replies with a nod. “Keep in mind we can only back you up if we know what’s going on.”

“Yes Ghosk,” Khopesh says with a nod. He does send a message back to Claude. [A Primaris Killer- or an Astarte killer, like the one you texted me about would be setting himself up for execution. Especially if he has a heinous list of crimes and it’s clear that he’s not stopping.]

Claude responds swiftly to the message [Thank you for the information.]

Khopesh sends another message to Claude that [you all can argue for the Primaris killer being an ongoing and unremorseful threat. So they can Hopefully get the maximum punishment of execution by Night Lords. Or depending on the Chapter preferred executioners.]

[Thank you for that- so far as we know, he’s only gone after Black Templars.] Claude responds. [Knowing him… he might escalate to other Primaris if he comes across them. He’s got a nasty temper.]

[But even without that. The chapter the murderer is a part of would be Heavily pressured to either remove their own bad actor, or turn him over so he can be removed.]  Khopesh sends the message to Claude, and he is getting excited.

Khopesh is excited that Claude trusts them more, And that he'll soon be able to talk to Anrir and the others about getting a proper Hunt going. Ghosk waved at the younger Night Lord as he watched the younger one leave, wondering what was going on.

But patience...Patience! Like Anrir always says. He feels like he's vibrating- and is glad that he moved out of where the rest of the Claw are- because they would see the expression on his face and demand to see his communicator to know what’s going on.

A thought suddenly strikes Khopesh and the excitement dims a little and he sends another message- a very Anrir thought as he remembers watching the older Night Lord work and talk to others and sends another message, [I won't tell Anrir without your permission....But I also don't want you and your brothers to be in active danger. I have enough on my rotted conscience, so if things get bad. Please don't make me live with staying quiet. For however terrifying he might be. Anrir wants to help you, Claude. We all do. But we can't Do that unless you Tell us what we need to know. Information Is Warfare isn't it?]

Khopesh hopes he isn’t pushing Claude too much, but this is need to know information, and the fact that the youngest member of his Claw was talking about things in more specific detail was Important. Especially with that fucking bastard of a Raven Captain- that they are helping him handle as well.

[Could you send me a copy of the evidence that you and your brother-cousins have?] Khopesh sends, [The evidence that can be submitted to the Alliance, it will help clinch the Hunt to being declared.]

Khopesh has an excited blood thirsty expression on his face- and he is moving around pacing back and forth. He’s so tempted to try and find out where Claude is to rush over and talk, and see if he can get more answers out of him and the other Primaris Marines.

His excitement cools down and he shakes his head as he rereads one of the messages, [wait- no, if the message gets intercepted, they’d need a backup of it to show the Alliance.]

[Cedric and Ramiel say they want to talk with you in person.] Claude sends, [we are at the park nearby the Loyalist base on Cherry lane and main street. Could you come by and speak with us? Things… might be escalating.]

[I’ll be there as soon as I can] Khopesh responds and tries not to run to where Claude and the others are. He’s. really excited. The Primaris Marines are trusting them with this! And they- hopefully will help get the Primaris Marines to have Justice prevail and have a Hunt. It has been so long since they have been able to Hunt.

Khopesh tries to calm down and sees the way that Claude, Cedric, and Ramiel are sitting around a table, there is a quaint looking picnic- clever, make a serious meeting look like something more innocent, clever, clever boys. After the explanation they give, the video is shown and he watches it in full.

"You have footage of one of your battle brothers murders? Fantastic!” Khopesh says.

Cedric stills for a moment. The sheer visceral excitement radiating off of the Night Lord is off-putting to say the least. He briefly glances at Claude. What the fuck? He thinks particularly loudly at his witch-adjacent Brother-cousin. “... I find the joy you show in the death of another marine to be… Unsettling.”

Ramiel’s jaw clenches and blue eyes spark with rage and his hands clenched into fists and Claude jumps in before either of his cousins could smack the crap out of Khopesh, “ the translation "I'm excited we'll soon get to avenge your fallen and deliver Justice!" Not I’m happy your brother is dead.”

Claude very much understands what the former sounds like, and it had been shocking to hear such things, but he had learned how to understand Night Lords and the way they speak. He especially knows Khopesh better, having interacted with him a lot more than his brother-cousins, to keep them from getting too mad at the First Born Night Lord.

Khopesh calms down a little, realizing how callous that sounded, especially since this person is a threat- likely to them personally, as well as to others and apologies, “Sorry- that came out wrong. It really sucks that your brother is dead. I’m excited to be able to help you with this mess. That video- it’s Key Evidence in getting your tormentor put down, or whatever punishment you think is best.”

Cedric pauses for a moment before sending a copy of Castiel's dying video to the Night Lord. “Here is what he sent me. He timed it so hopefully his murderer wouldn't realize he was being recorded. Given the fact that Petras beat another Primaris marine to the point Mattias is currently in surgery now… The Chaplain must be nearby.”

Khopesh is a mixture of emotions, and his trembling a little as he tucks his hands behind his back as his hands clenched into fists. He’s a mixture of Excitement and Rage. How dare that bastard, Petras, go after the Primaris. 

Claude asks him, “What do you think of it?”

"I'm thinking I'd start with flaying Just the fingers! Then I'd yank the phalanges out one by one, on the right hand.” Khopesh starts, “For the left I'd Act like I was going to do the same, then snap the arm and force him to Bite Off his own fingers so the hands would Match-"

Part of Cedric was mildly Disgusted by Khopesh starting to explain what he would do to The bastard. The rest of him wanted to let the deranged Night Lord continue.

"About this Video as Evidence! Khopesh! How is the quality of the evidence!?" Ramiel interrupts.

"Oh right! Sorry...like I said it's fantastic as evidence. It clearly shows the perpetrator, goes decently in depth about his crimes, includes the bastards own fucking vileness on display and though it may sound tactless. Your deceased brother's testimony is something the Alliance will not be able to ignore. It may seem... disingenuous, but the pain and outrage you feel should be Used. It will show the tribunal that these crimes Must be Answered for, Your brother's lives not spent in Vain!" Khopesh says his eyes blazing with emotion and passion. "You never should have had to seek out this justice. Your elder brothers should have taken you beneath their wings, Like Anrir did for us!"

Cedric shifted a little, feeling the need to defend the firstborn Templar brothers who actually gave a damn about him and his Brothers. “A couple of our older Brothers have taken us in. Arnault and Roland have done their best to care for and protect us. As soon as they became peripherally aware of a threat to us that we hadn't told them about they would try and press for explanations. When… I told them earlier this week about Petras when Mattias was first brought in for treatment. They intended to kill the Chaplain, and said as much.” 

Khopesh paces around the table, prowling as he continues his rant, this explains why Claude and the others could be so stars- damned jumpy. Why Claude was so slow to trust- slow to allow himself Anrir and the other’s protections. 

Afraid of what being put under the protection of an older brother means accepting they have some power over you- and seeing and hearing that his cousins were murdered by shit head- and Claude and others getting beaten… yeah no. He’d be reluctant to give up any freedoms, even if it would help in some ways.

"But that's not the path this...Petras bastard chose. He Chose and by the looks of it continues to Choose to harm his own Battle Brothers, and worst! Those He should be responsible for." Khopesh says. "He is the worst type of Predatory, Vile, Rotten Bastard! And he Deserves to answer for his crimes. Your brothers, your fallen, deserve to have him Answer for his crimes."

"Let Us help you present this evidence Claude. Let the Claw help you and your brothers..." Khopesh doesn't use Your Claw as he feels it might push too hard and cause Claude to retreat. 

Instead Khopesh uses The Claw, still implying that Claude is a part of it, but leaving it up to interpretation. Avoiding Our Claw or My Claw as those could distinctly put Claude outside it, which is not true, and he doesn’t want to have Claude feel alienated, fuck the poor kid has had that done to him back in M42, him and his brothers.

Cedric, Ramiel, and Claude get an urgent text vox message from Jophiel it reads  [I’ve got a wounded Black Templar Primaris Marine. Near the stone outcropping two hours in the forest west of Gannet point. I’m stalling Petras- the fucker is Insane. Please help. Or send help. He’s threatening to kill me and Sariel. He knows about the Alliance rules, he just doesn’t fucking care.]

Cedric stood up, and swore under his breath, looking at Khopesh. “While you’re not the firstborn Brother who I’d choose to ask for help, you’re already here and I don’t know how long we have before the situation gets worse. We just received a call for help from Jophiel, a Primaris marine. He’s trying to keep another Primaris Marine alive and is facing Petras without help. We need Petras restrained now. If you mean your words, come and help us.” With that, Cedric took off at his top speed towards where Jophiel had pinged his location, texting back [I am coming! Delay him as long as you can!]

[I will do my best.] Jophiel responds.

He then messaged Arnault and Roland at the same time [Petras is attacking someone at this location. If you are able and willing, please help me keep him from murdering more Primaris marines.]

He gets an immediate response from both Arnault and Roland. Roland answered first. [On my way.]

Arnault answered [Will be there soon. Stay safe and be smart.]

His hearts drop to his stomach when he sees Jophiel on the ground, wings broken, and Petras standing over him. A Crusade of Black Templars and a dead Primaris Black Templar.

"You bastard!" Claude hears Cedric hiss as he chases after his charging Black Templar Brother cousins.

The closer they get to Petras and his Crusade, Cedric suddenly drops to Jophie's side- realizing the other is alive. "Why did you drug him? Break his wings?"

"He went mad," Petras says, "And he killed the Primaris Black Templar."

"LIAR!" Claude hears Cedric bellow. "Jophie is many things a brother killer, he is not."

"His blade is bloodied, and killed the Black Templar," Petras counteracts, telling the truth.

Khopesh has approached Jophiel and is messing with the younger Space Marine's helmet and lets out a dark chuckle and says, "You fool- Jophiel was recording the conversation he had with you."

"... what?" Petras says, sounding caught off guard.

Khopesh gives him a cruel smile and flips the helmet and projects the truth of the matter- Jophiel confronting Petras- who reveals his true cruelty.

How Jophiel tried to escape Petras at first- and only fought him after he'd broken his wings and made it so that escape wasn't likely. How Petras was the one to kill the Primaris Marine- using Jophiel's own weapon.

The looks of shock and horror and disappointment and disgust on the faces of Petras's Crusade have them circling around Petras- rather than trying to defend him.

Petras scowls, realizing that the jig is up and he taunts, "So- you know I have killed two of your disgusting Abominations."

"We are not abominations," Ramiel says tremulously, shaking, terrified, but wanting to stand against the bastard that murdered him in M42. "You are- you m-murdered me and a dozen of our brothers in M42- and have killed at least two of us here!"

Cedric moves closer to Ramiel, standing so that he is half in front of his terrified Brother, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he glowers at Petras. 

"Ah, so you have only found two of my victims," Petras taunts. "The souls of my other victims will never know peace because the location of their bodies will die with me."

"Who says that we will kill you here and now?" Khopesh says slyly, "After all- death is what you will get, but oh- how you should suffer before you die!"

[sleepyfan-blog]

Five + One

Author’s Note: This is set before Cedric was brought to Ancient Terra! I hope that you enjoy this. Masterlist of BT shenanigans here. Thanks to @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan for allowing me to borrow her OC Jerahmiel!

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

Warnings: blood, violence, murder, medical terminology, medical practices, please ask me to tag something if I missed it/something bothers you 

Summary: Five times Cedric was able to save injured Brothers and one time he didn’t. 

Ansen limped into the med-tent that Cedric as working in and leaning heavily on Malachai, who had helped him get back to the temporary encampment where injured marines and other Imperial Forces could be tended to. The system they were fighting in was embroiled in a huge border war between The IMperium and the duplicitous forces of a new but irritatingly persistent xeno race.

Cedric looks him over, a small frown appearing on his face as he instructed the pair “Please sit on the exam table, Ansen. Are you injured as well, Mal?”

Malachai shook his head “Not really/ I brought Ansen over due to his fucked up leg. My right hand is damaged, but nothing that an hour or so of letting it heal on it’s own won’t fix. My sqord broke and I need to get a new weapon while this one is being reforged.”

“Alright then. Be sure to stop by the food tent before you leave.” Cedric responded, already starting to look Ansen over.

“Heard. See you both later.” Malachai answered with a cheerful wave as he headed off.

“How’d you get injured? Whatever injured your leg it doesn’t seemed to have cut through your armor at all, somehow. Perhaps some kind of phasing technology? How much feeling do you have in this leg?” Cedric asked as he swiftly removed the other’s leg armor and began to clean, suture and bandage his wounds “These stitches are absorbable, so you need not come back to have them removed. If you notice signs of infection or if one or more of your wounds opens up again, please return for treatment.”

“.. One of the xenos cowards managed to sneak up behind me in the bushes while I was taking a piss. Malachai decapitated the motherless bastard while I put my armor back on. It was only after that I realized the blue fuck had managed to stab me several times before it’d been killed.” Ansen huffed. His helmet was on, but Cedric knew the other was blushing.

“That is some shit luck, brother. Keep your weight off of that leg for an hour or so and you’ll be combat ready again… So long as you don’t get stabbed while pissing.” Cedric consoled his brother, just barely able to keep a straight face. He was not going to laugh. Stealthy, cowardly xenos attacks could happen to anyone. “Any other injuries?”

“Other than my pride and reputation? No, not really.” Ansen grumbled.

Cedric patted his fellow Primaris on the shoulder. “Go forth and slay the alien scum in an hour, brother dearest. You’ll be able to reclaim lost honor that way.” 

“... Thanks Cedric.” Ansen sighed as he got up and hobbled out of the med tent.

~

It did not take long before another Brother was brought to Cedric in need of patching up.

Lieutenant Aldenbrech was rushed onto the surgical table by his squadmates. Cedric immediately started an IV drop as the amount of blood gushing out of the nasty wound  along the firstborn’s abdomen and the ashen tint to his skin spoke of a concerning amount of blood loss, even for an Astartes. The second thing he did was swiftly clean the wound and stitch up the major artery that had been pierced, his hands stone-steady.

Cedric then had to suction the blood that had pooled in the lieutenant’s abdominal cavity, battling the other’s own high healing factor to do so thoroughly enough to ensure that no blood remained where it shouldn’t be to cause trouble later.

“Are you certain that you only want mild local anesthetics? This is going to take some time and it won’t be pleasant in the least, sir.” Cedric asked, a medium-high dose of morpha held in one hand, as he continued to tend to the other’s injuries.

“I want to get back into the fight as soon as possible. A large dose of a heavy anesthetic like that will take me out of the fight for longer than I’m willing to wait and recuperate. I must get back onto the battlefield as soon as possible.” Lieutenant Aldenbrech grumbled, shifting just a little on the surgical table.

“Sir you will need to take the next twenty four hours to recover… Ideally, you should take forty-eight hours to recover, but I am well aware of the fact that the xenos scum are showing no signs of stopping the invasion of this world.” Cedric warned the other marine.

“Are my guts back in place?” The lieutenant demanded a heavy scowl on his face as he looked up at Cedric.

“Yes, the wound wasn’t wide enough to spill organs, nor intestines sir. Bit-” Cedric answered, sighing internally at how stubborn the older marine was being.

Aldenbrech interrupted him “Then pull the IV needle out of my arm. I need to be out there now!”  He shifted, as if to get off of the table. He sat up quickly and nearly fell back against the table, his skin going an ashen color “I told you none of the heavy medications!”

“And I obeyed your orders, sir. But you need to wait until the IV has finished at least. You’ve lost several listers of blood on your way to treatment and all that blood needs replacing, or you won’t have the strength to stand, much less fight.” Cedric pointed out, suppressing the annoyed sigh that threatened to escape him. 

“You don’t understand! My apprentice Dylies… He was… He was cut down by one of the xenos commanders. He took a blow meant for me, and I must avenge him!” The lieutenant hisses, eyes flashing with determination and desperation.

“I can increase how much it infuses into you at one time by a certain amount, but you must wait. You can’t avenge Dylies if you’re about to go into the Emperor’s Embrace yourself, sir.  Dylies would want you to take care of yourself before avenging him” Cedric quietly reminded the firstborn marine. He was pushing aside his own grief at the loss of a Primaris Brother. It was likely that more would fall before the xenos threat were driven from this system. His job was to tend to the living.

Lieutenant Aldenbrecht huffed but nodded, still disgruntled but he said “... YOu have a point. How long must I wait?”

“Three hours sir. However the window of time where you need to be monitored by an Apothecary for possible allergic or other negative reactions has passed. SO long as you keep the IV pole with you and allow the infusion to continue as it is currently set, you may walk about the base camp and tend to light duties as you feel capable of doing them, sir.” Cedric  responded, aware that the officer was likely to be needed in the ongoing tactical planning and execution meetings.

“Good. I’ll come back if I start feeling worse, or more likely, when it’s done infusing.” the lieutenant rumbled, nodding as he heaved himself up onto his feet and slowly shuffled out of the tent, followed by his squadmates.

~

Olivar carried Lestras into Cedric’s medical tent, skidding to a halt from the dead sprint that he had galloped into the space with. Lestras had been carried in on Olivar’s back, and their breathing was fast and shallow.

Some of their wounds were immediately apparent to the young Apothecary as he grabbed the wound cleanser and burn ointment “What happened?” cedric asked as his rock-steady hands swiftly took off the rest of Lestras’ ruined chest plate and greaves before he started to clean the other’s extensive and bubbling burn and laceration wounds.

“Xenos bastards implanted bombs in some of the mortal civilians they were tormenting and that our squad had been tasked with rescuing.” Olivar answered bluntly, a slight shudder running through the other Primaris Marine “Lestras spotted the surgical markings on the affected civilians and separated them from the rest of the group… He’d managed to get most of them away from the untainted civilians when the bombs were triggered.”

Lestras looked up at Cedric from where they lay on the table, eyes glassy with shock and pain “Oww…” He mumbles “Everything hurts.”

Cedric’s eyes softened a little as he injected them with a moderate dose of morpha. They were going to need it, as cleaning burn wounds felt truly awful for the patient in question. “Tell me when the pain killer kicks in. You will be able to tell with how much I gave you.”

Lestras let out an agonized laugh through cracked and bleeding lips “That bad, Cedric? We’ve been taught that pain and suffering is good for the body and soul.”

“But excess of anything attracts the attention of the foul despoilers. Burn wound treatment is going to be miserable, even with morpha helping you with the pain. There’s no need to go looking for more Les.” Cedric reminded them kindly.

Lestras nodded, closing their eyes for a couple of moments. Their body relaxed and a soft sigh left them “Ohh… You gave me some of the really good stuff… Big ouch impending then?”

“Yes. There is a lot of wound debridement in your immediate future.” Cedric warned his brother. WIth how fast Primaris Marines healed, for Lestras’ health and safety, ,the first few layers of burned flesh needed to be debrided off in order to encourage even, healthy growth of the other’s injured tissues. Cedric looked over to Olivar “Unless you are injured as well, I would suggest that you head out, Olivar. This is going to be a very unpleasant process.” 

Olivar nodded “I’m going to get something to eat, then find an outgoing squad to keep up the fight. May the god emperor guide and protect you both,”

“Oww…” Lestras sighed as he internally braced himself for the agony that he wos about to endure.

“Tell me when the morpha starts to wear off. This process is going to take hours.” Cedric warned his sibling.

“Okay Cedric, I promise. Give me a few moments to get into a meditative state and I’ll be ready for this trial.” Lestras murmured.

Cedric nodded, watching his sibling and started once they had achieved that internal state.

~

Brother Felixald was brought into Cedric’s medical tent on a stretcher, carried there by his squadmates. All five of the firstborn marines were in varying states of injury, but Felixald was unconscious and barely breathing.

One of his legs was gone from the knee down with a makeshift tourniquet in place to keep him from bleeding out. Cedric immediately began assessing the five older marines, suggesting ”You two should seek immediate help. THose puncture wounds look like they need  immediate assistance… I think you’ve been poisoned, from the way those wounds look and smell.” Cedric was already getting the cauterization tool ready as he assessed the bloody and raw leg stump, in case he needed to cut off more to ensure that the older marine would heal properly.

The two firstborns he suggested to leave did so immediately. The other two marines sat down heavily on the far side of the tent. One of them asked “Do you want us to recount how we got the injuries, or would you rather we stayed quiet while you take care of Feli, and get report when it’s our turn?” Brother Nulik asked.

“His most obvious injury shouldn’t take me long. Sir, I am going to administer a dose of morpha, as cauterization hurts like hell. Injecting now.” Cedric answered, speaking mostly to his barely conscious patient.

“Have… Ontel. Need to share.” Brother Felixald managed out, his grey-brown eyes flittering open as he stared up desperately into Cedric’s face “No morpha! Need a clear… Fuck! I do feel better. The xenos! They.. They are camouflaging themselves. It’s how I got this way.”

“The intel will be shared immediately. What are they pretending to be?” Cedric soothed his patient as he carefully cleaned and sanitized the older marine’s recently exploded or pehrpss cut off leg stump before he applied the cauterization tool. The sizzle of heat against wet and teh unpleasant smell of burning flesh was an eye-watering stench that Cedric had long become used to. He makes a quick note in the other’s file flagging him for an immediate prosthetic fitting.

“Some of them look like Astartes from an unknown chapter… Others took the colors of the ULtramarines. Their duplicity was revealed when the fuckers tried to kill us. God-Emperor damn them!” Brother Felixald growled, his exhaustion and the morpha causing him to slur his words together a little.

Cedric dutifully sent that urgent bit of intel off to his mentor to handle as he continued to batch up the badly injured marine and his two remaining squadmates. “I have informed Apothecary Xonfried, who will ensure that this information is disseminated quickly. Is there anything that you or your squadmates would like to report?”

Nulik and Bekith both shook their heads “No, Apothecary. That’s the relevant part of what happened, other than the numbers of foul xenos we murdered.”

“Alright. You two are free to go, and they’ve got the food-tent up and running.. Brother Felixald, you’ll need to stay for a bit as you’ve lost a significant portion of blood, and I’m going to start you on an infusion to get your volume back up to what it should be.” Cedric murmured.

“Aye, I can tell by how the world spins unpleasantly beneath me.” Felixald answered, laying back on the table and letting Cedric care for him properly as his squadmates headed off to get something to eat.

~

Cedric was carefully re-sanitizing his workspace when he heard the tell-tale sounds of running astartes headed in his direction. The young Apothecary swiftly finished cleaning, the coppery tang of blood and the chemical-bitter scent of stressed Marine hitting Cedric. 

A half-dozen Astartes rushed into his medical tent, carrying Brother-sergeant Jerahmiel between them on a stretcher. The firstborn Marine was very badly hurt, with dozens of armor-piercing wounds inflicted all over his body. To make things worse, the sargent appeared to have lost his helmet during battle, given the extensive new burns all over his head and face.

It did seem as if the older marine’s eyes were still fully functional, despite the awful state they were in, from the way they narrowed at Cedric's approach, a low hiss leaving the sergeant’s ruined lips and broken teeth.

“Honorable Older Brothers.” Cedric began, just loud enough to cover the wordless sounds of protest from the injured marine now on his surgical table, doing his best to protect a sense of concern and urgency “Each of you are also badly injured and I can only tend to one Brother at at im. I urge each of you to seek treatment immediately. I will do what I can to save the honorable brother sergeant.” He did not allow himself to feel anything but concern and determination in this moment.

It worked! The other battered and bleeding first born brothers quickly left to get their own wounds treated without so much as a backwards glance. Aware that if they stayed, Cedric would need to triage all seven of them, and would be forced to leave the brother-sargeant to be treated last, due to his all too tenuous grasp on life at the moment.

Cedric’s hands were steady and his face a mask of calm as he worked to clean, treat and bandage Jerahmiel  wounds, listening to the sounds around the two of them. He also double checked to make sure that the sergeant’s armor was, as he methodically checked over the other’s injuries.

If his hands slipped a little occasionally, pressing too hard ,causing more pain than was necessary… Well that was due to his inexperience and exhaustion. Cedric had been diligently tending to his injured Brothers for weeks with minimal sleep or rest and food. Cedric had yet to administer any pain relievers because he needed to conserve supplies. Suffering was good for the body and soul, after all “Stop struggling. You are under my care nd you will take what I give you, BRothe.” Cedric commented.

THe twitchy, badly injured firstborn marine stilled compeltely as he said those words, his half-ruined yes locking onto Cedric’ss. Dread perfumed the air as the sergeant rasped out with ruined vocal cords, barely able to speak “Wh-what did you just say?” He was clearly familiar with the phrase.

Cedric smiled benignly down at the Brother-Sargeant and answered with “I need you restrained. You are resisting the inevitable and what is necessary. Resistance is not just futile, but heretical.”

The dread intensified and the badly injured bastard attempted to stand up and escape Cedric.

Hah

The firstborn Marine had barely managed to sit up when Cedric raised up one hand and lightly shoved Jerahmiel back down onto the surgical table, pressing against the other’s fractured ribs. It truly was remarkable how badly injured the fucker was. A pity he didn’t qualify for dreadnought entombment. He did not possess the skill and experience to save this astares’ life “If you are free of sin, the god-Emperor will ensure that you survive this trial, Brother.”

“How… Why… Why are you saying that? How do you know what I had told that mouthy abomination I culled under the orders of Chaplain Petras?” THe sergeant wheezed, fear and confusion clear on his face, along with a tremendous amount of pain.

“His armor recorded his last moments, and the proceeding conversation… Sir. Unlike yours, his armor was fully functional at the time of his death. I found the recording of you beating him to death for no good reason.” Cedric answered placidly “He was beaten to death because he was going to report your… Indiscretion with that civilian woman that he witnessed. DId you really think he would’ve confronted you about it without ensuring that should something have happened to him, that you would escape justice? The Emperor’s light shines upon us all equally. As does his judgment.”

“Are you..What are you … You… Agk!” Jerahmiel sputtered, clearly trying to make sense of Cedric’s words, and failing, from his clear confusion.

“The honored Primarch decreed Primaris Marines to be made. He sent us out to help our firstborn Brothers in protecting the Imperium. The high marshal has declared that we are not heretical. So what right do you have to brand us as such, for merely existing? Do you believe yourself more righteous than one of the loyal sons of the Emperor?” Cedrc purred, leaning more of his weight onto the badly injured bastard, helpless before him.

Renewed pain bloomed across the sergeant’s face, along with understanding and a primarl fury “You… Fucker! He hissed, spitting up at him, blood bubbling at the corners of his lips. Hisbreathing labored and uneven. Jerahmiel’s hearts were beating rapidly Cedric could feel them under his hands.

Cedric had injected the other with a paralytic which kept him helpless on the surgical table. The much younger marine grinned boyishly as he avoided the flying and bloody spittle “It’s suchc a shame you were too badly injured for me to save you with the resources I have available, sir. I’m sure your loss will be felt by the Crusade… But the relief that your loss by those who were inflicted by your temper and tyranny far outweigh the sorrow caused by your death.” He keeps increasing the pressure on the other’s broken ribs, feeling them shift.

The jagged, broken bone-shards dig into the bastard’s lungs deeper and deeper. 

Jerahmiel’ glare was scorching.

Cedric was wholly unthreatened by him. He had the upper hand here, not this firstborn bastard.

Cedric laughed, breathing and victorious as he felt the other’s rib bones slide up into the fucker’s hearts. He kept pressing and shoving until the sergeant’s hearts had stopped beating and his body went limp.

Cedric then removed the other’s geneseed, placing it carefully in the appropriate container for viability testing. After that, Cedric removed all viable useful organts, implants and prosthetics. He had the other stripped of his rumor armor and weapons. Everything of value was sent off to their proper places.

After that, Cedric carried the bastard’s cooling body over to the promethium-fueled flaming body pit and tossed the sergeant’s corpse into it. As his body caught fire, Cedric dutifully logged Jerahmiel ‘s injuries and that he was KIA.

The young apothecary returned to his assigned medical tent, carefully cleaning all of his tools and the table, his hearts light and his conscience clear. 

As an Apothecary, two of his jobs were harm reduction and threat nullification. Brother-sargeant Jerahmiel had killed a half-dozen primaris marines with no good cause, and his kills had begun to become more frequent and starting to cluster together. As were the excessive beatings and other acts of cruelty the fucker had visited upon living primaris marines. Cedric took pride in every aspect of being an Apothecary, and would neutralize other threats as the opportunity to do so came up. So long as his curtailing of cruelty did not cause more suffering amongst his fellow Primaris marines, of course.

Cedric hears more running footsteps and greets his next injured Brother-patient with a gentle and concerned smile on his face.

[egrets-not-regrets]

Ramiel and Cedric: Atonement & Final Blessings

Of Fin and Feathers AU (merAstartes AU): Patrolling harpies lead Ramiel and Cedric to find their dying Primaris Black Templar brother.

Author's Note: TW death, grief, angst, and guilt.

This massive piece (just over 10,000 words) is a collaboration with @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan and @sleepyfan-blog. You guys are fantastic and it was fun to collab with both of you. Thank you for helping me write this story and get Cedric, Ramiel and Malachai's voice right. I don't have the heart to make this into separate chapters since it makes the most sense to keep it as one story.

This is another pretty emotionally heavy piece of writing, but I thought it is time that this mer-Astartes AU progress somewhat similarly to the Husbandry AU. Let's be honest, there is no way with Petras mentioned, that more Primaris Black Templars don't start showing up in this AU.

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

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

Ramiel was feeling a little melancholy, the memories of his past actions and mistakes are clawing at his mind. The memories haunted him, and caused him to wake early and try to leave the nest, wanting some fresher air, and try to not bother any of his family.

Malachai… he couldn’t help replaying the moment the light went out of his brother’s eyes in his mind. His poor brother, another victim of the Honorable Chaplain Captain Petras’ punishments. If only they found him sooner… would they be able to save him then?

He rubbed his face as he tried to stop crying, Astartes didn’t cry. That is one of the many things that Ramiel had been told and taught from a young age. His breathing was hiccuping a little as he recovered from the most wretched nightmare he’d awoken from, and it took Ramiel some time to slow and steady his breathing.

As quiet and stealthy as he tries to be- he didn’t notice Erriox waking up and watching him sneak away. Remembering how there are a couple of Black Templar Shoals in the nearby area brought up… rather unpleasant memories for Ramiel.

Claude and Jophiel told Cedric and Ramiel that they had mentioned, in passing, the name “Petras” to Erriox- not that they had explained much with the whole Gray Knight incident that had… rather taken precedents as well as monitoring the situation with the Black Templar shoal that changed their migration pattern.

He took in a couple of deep breaths and started his morning prayers to the God Emperor. Murmuring the words quietly and reverently. Doing his best to go through the motions and speak the words verbatim from his near perfect memory recall as he did. 

Ramiel was in prayers for at least two hours- Cedric sometimes joined him during the latter half if he woke up early enough for it. He thanked the God Emperor for his second chance here on Ancient Terra… for however long it lasts.

He understood that the worship of the God Emperor upset some of the First Born Battle Brothers from before the Heresy- before the Daemon Primarchs revealed their true forms and they and their ill-made sons fell to Chaos and daemon-hood. Though Erriox and Lenora have not complained about it… yet. 

Ramiel always tried to be quiet during his prayers so as to not bother his adoptive sort-of parents. It was easy enough to call Lenora “Mother”; but Erriox, while he is thankful that the First Born Iron Warrior treats them much kinder than the First Borns that they had been used to, he is hesitant to call Erriox anything less formal beyond “sir” or “cousin”. 

Ramiel wondered if the Black Templar shoal travel change is due to himself and Cedric- that it’s because they are in the area and some of the shoals had heard of the apprentice-aged specialist Black Templar Astartes. Whether they knew that Ramiel and Cedric are Primaris or not, will become readily apparent in how they will be treated by them.

Ramiel suspects how the First Born brothers from around M42 would react to him and Cedric in one of two ways: cautious hope, or purge the abomination. He scratches and the patch of scales near his elbows and shudders. Some of the First Born Black Templars had taken very poorly to the Primaris Roll out… His Mentor being one of them- well his previous Mentor. Ramiel rubs at the scar on his chest, the one that had a reciprocal scar on his back. 

The one that killed him and Malachai, the scars- well, he had many scars gifted to him by his mentor, physical and mental, but still. Those two were the worst. He hoped that The Honorable Chaplain Captain Petras was not among the shoals that have altered their migration path. 

Part of Ramiel hoped that he is still in M42, and hoped that the cruel bastard didn’t come back to Ancient Terra. If he or Cedric wanted to join one of the Black Templar shoals: all they had to do was ask one of the Iron Warriors if they could contact them and then be picked up by a passing shoal in a few weeks to months. Or he could request assistance from the Hydra pod that was Bonded to Lana… but that might also come with a cost… likely one he’d rather not pay. But to be honest, he’d rather not place himself at the nonexistent mercy and under the power of First Born Black Templars again.

Not yet at least. He knew that what little training he has as a Judicar Primaris Space Marine Chaplain wasn’t enough, and for further training he had to go to a chapter specific Chaplain and hope they decided to take him on as an Apprentice.

He just… Would rather stay with Lenora and Erriox and Cedric and his fellow brother-cousins. And the Gannet Aunties and Cousins. While it's less migratory than he was used to, there was something to be said for being more stationary for a while. Bonds could be formed and maintained, learning of a different sort could happen. 

He finished his prayers and turned to see Erriox watching him, “Hello sir, did you want some help with preparing the first meal?”

Ramiel and the others had helped hunt to gather foodstuffs for a few days, to help replenish their personal food stores. While the harpies are excellent hunters, they were wary of going to their normal hunting grounds with the lurking Black Templars nearby. Most tended to be highly temperamental and volatile, especially to those they deemed… non-human.

Ramiel wondered about his chapter’s attitude towards harpies and the other non-human and sentient species who are of and born on Terra. did that not make them just as holy as humans? Or at least, that’s how he viewed it. Not that he’s had a chance to really discuss this with anyone outside of Cedric, Roland, and Arnault.

He’s heard that sometimes humans are predated on by harpies or other species, but it wa either due to lack of resources or because the humans were stupid. Which- the galaxy is rough, and consumption of what is edible in hard times makes sense. 

Also- if you stick your nose where you aren’t wanted, you shouldn’t be surprised that it gets bitten off at times. Still, his questions could only be answered by those he’d rather avoid for now. He ignored the voice in his head that hissed that he’s a yellow-bellied coward for not confronting the Black Templar shoals.

“No need, I noticed you started more than thirty minutes late for your usual morning prayer. Got something on your mind?” Erriox pointed out.

“I didn’t wake you and Mama, did I?” Ramiel worriedly asked. 

The Iron Warrior mer glanced at his harpy mate sleeping in their nest, “No, and Lenora’s still asleep.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, watching the ocean waters brighten in hue as the sun rose in the sky. Erriox turned to the Black Templar Scout, “Thinking about Malachai?” He asked, figuring that their brother’s second death on ancient Terra was what’s distracting his adopted son. 

“… Yes.” Ramiel didn’t want to show vulnerability to the First Born, but he couldn’t stop seeing Malachai’s dead eyes staring back at him. It hurt. It hurt to see his brother in the state he was in. It hurt to know that it was his mentor, Honorable Chaplain Captain Petras, who killed him. If someone, if they had… Found him sooner… Maybe then, Malachai could’ve been saved. Ramiel looks over at Cedric, who was curled up in his nest, still asleep. His hearts squeezed painfully, he didn’t even want to think how this was affecting his apothecary brother. 

“I know Lenora had told you boys that you shouldn’t blame yourselves.”

“I…” Ramiel wanted to say something, he hoped he didn’t offend his adoptive mother by his disbelieving reaction at the time. Erriox raised hand to interrupt him. Instinctively, Ramiel flinched and his mouth immediately snapped shut. 

The Iron Warrior eyed him for a moment then sighed, “But we also understand that it is much easier said than done.” 

“... Some of my actions had a hand in Malachai’s death,” Ramiel said, not quite looking at Erriox. “... My mentor- ah- what do you know about Black Templar rankings and practices?”

Erriox hummed, his tail swaying thoughtfully, “Not much, except that the Black Templars worship the Emperor of Mankind as a god and are aggressive to those considered heretical or corrupted by chaos.”

Ramiel nods and goes on to explain how Black Templar Neophytes become Apprentices, raised and trained by their mentor until they become a full battle brother. How important that bond between mentor and Apprentice is, how much power the older Templar has, and how good the bond can be. The Ideal mentor and student bond, how the mentor-student bond usually goes…. And what happens if the mentor is an abusive shit head. How little recourse the Apprentice has. It takes a bit, but he explained how shitty a mentor Petras was to him.

“When things go wrong in the mentor-student bond, usually the younger is to blame, unless there is overwhelming evidence that it's the mentor to blame… even then, socially… the Apprentice can become… at worst…. Excommunicated.” Ramiel said sorrowfully.

His elder cousin narrowed his eyes, “So it is easy to continue to be a shitty mentor, like this Petras, because the mentor holds that much power and seniority over the apprentices’ heads. And allowed to kill Primaris marines? What a fucking waste of resources.” He huffed. Though in his legion, they would’ve sent those they didn’t deem useful or trainable to do the shitty jobs no one else wanted or to the front lines as bullet shields, at least they contributed to the fighting effort in some way. Physical punishment was useful to a point, otherwise entirely wasteful if overdone. He asked “And how does this relate to you and Malachai?”

“Chaplains are allowed to decide and administer punishments,” Ramiel explained, “At least in the Black Templars they are. Including corporal punishments. One of… the areas in training that my mentor says that I… need to work on is administering… p-punishment to others.”

Ramiel flinched and curled in on himself unable to sustain eye contact for very long, “My m-mentor, previous Mentor Petras… was particularly harsh on administering physical correction. He had me… use an electro whip to help with administering punishment to Malachai. He didn’t allow me to stop until the numbers reached the upper hundreds.”

Erriox went quiet. Learning to be able to withstand pain was a normal part of training to become a fully fledged Astartes. Though he barely remembered what it was like training as a Neophyte and then Scout; he remembered a lot of heavy, back-breaking hard labor and shit jobs, under shittier conditions.

The way that Ramiel was reacting made it seem like this Petras was rather flagrant and excessive in his use of corporal punishment. Thank the throne that Ramiel was reasonable and relatively soft-hearted, if he was anything like his mentor, he would be extremely dangerous indeed. 

“That sounds excessive. Did Malachai do something to justify the punishment?” Erriox asked. 

Ramiel paused and thought about the Incident that happened, the reasons for why Malachai was punished so severely. He took in a deep breath and started, “Malachai refused to take the fall for the other group of Apprentices’ pranks and japes while he and four other Primaris Apprentices were visiting a fortress monastery at the same time that the normally-recruited aspirants were. The other group blamed the Primaris marines, and as Malachai was squad leader, he was the one to take the brunt of the punishment.”

Ramiel got lost in his head, and didn’t entirely realize it when after some gentle prompting from Erriox, the entire story of what happened came springing from his lip like a confession of his sins. 

Malachai floated defiantly in front of Chaplain Petras, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared down at the older Marine. “As I said before, Chaplain-Captain, neither I nor my fellow Primaris Apprentices were responsible for the destruction of the training salles in the western training room of this fortress monastery. Nor were we the ones who set a bucket of honey and soap on top of the door out of the quartermaster’s office so that when the door was opened next, the contents of which were upended onto the unfortunate Brother’s head.”

Petras glowered up at Malachai, a low growl in his voice “You stand before me, defiant and with lies on your tongue. If you and your brothers were not to blame, who then were the culprits?”

Malachai shrugged a little, his stare still stony “That I cannot say. But we were not the only group of Apprentices visiting that particular Fortress monastery at that time. Have you asked them whether or not they are to blame for the destruction and that particular prank? Along with the other recent pranks that have occurred?”

Petras’ scowl got worse “So, not only do you refuse to take accountability for your actions, you  would seek to lay blame on innocent Brothers? Ramiel! Get me my electro whips. I will have you weeping and pleading for the Emperor’s Mercy before I am through with you, you defiant abomination. The other group of apprentices are proper young Black Templars to be, picked from chapter worlds and trained in the ways of our chapter since they were taken as Aspirants. This mischief began after you and your fellow abominations appeared.”

Malachai knew for a fact that none of his fellow Primaris marines would dare do such things… And if they, for some reason, had completely taken leave of their senses and decided to pull such ridiculous grox-shit, they would have at least had the honor and the courage to own up to it, rather than cowering in the shadows and hoping that someone else would be punished for their misdeeds. “The pranks began when we arrived and stopped when we left, that is true. But no such pranks have occurred aboard The Sigismund before or after, sir. Which means the other group of Apprentices, or perhaps one or two of their number are possibly to blame, and they acted up specifically when they knew that there were more potential people to take the blame, sir.”

“Strip out of your armor and go down onto your back, Abomination! I will not tolerate any more of your lying slander any longer!” Petras growled. 

Malachai looked briefly at the miserable looking Ramiel, before he huffed and rolled his eyes, sinking down, so that his back was exposed after removing his armor. “I am innocent, Chaplain Captain. So are my fellow apprentices. If you truly do seek the culprits, you will need to look elsewhere. But all three of us know what you really want to do. And it does not involve actual justice.”

Petras’ growl of fury reverberated through Malachai’s very soul, but no matter how long the other whipped and beat him, he would not break and admit to doing something he did not do. He would not admit that one of his fellow Primaris Brothers did something that he knew they did not do, either. Malachai did his best to stay still and not flinch as he was whipped and beaten until the pain became too much and he blacked out.

~~~~~~~~

Malachai opened his eyes and stared up into the night sky. He did not recognize these stars, nor what looked like the background haze of one of the arms of the galaxy. His wounds, raw, aching and bloody pulsed in time to his hearts beating, and his shallow, ragged breaths. There was a beautiful full, silvery moon in the sky as well, and he could hear the regular crashing and retreating whooshing sounds of waves breaking upon the sand of the… Wherever the fuck he was now. 

He really hoped that he was alive - because the thought of being dead and having to deal with the agony of his wounds until they healed… Or for all of eternity, was a daunting and miserable idea that the young mer did not want to contemplate. There was a deep, daunting darkness that was eating at the edges of his vision. He felt dizzy and cold, on top of everything else. At least what he was laying against was soft, rather than the cold, hard metal of the deck of The Sigismund. 

With a titanic effort of will, Malachai moved his head until he could see the surface beneath him. Fine grains of sand met his vision. He was… He had been left to die on a world? But they were within the warp, when he’d been punished harshly by that bastard. The sound of flapping wings caught his attention, and the young mer looked skyward once more, searching for the source of the sound. “Hello?” He called out as loudly as his damaged lungs and throat could manage “Is someone out there?” He had never been this alone before in his entire life… Malachai didn’t want to die alone, even on a world as pretty as this one.

He heard two pairs of feet landing in the sand near him. 

“Hello, young one.” A feminine voice answered. Another, slightly younger voice swore some unknown curses at his condition, “His tail is bent strange. This is torture. Who did this to him?” She commented, outrage simmering in her voice. After a thought, she added, “He looks like cousin Ramiel.”

Ramiel? Cousin? They’re here too? A tiny spark of hope rose in Malachai’s chest. He squinted his eyes; his vision was starting to blur, but he could make out two humans or creatures who looked like humans covered in feathers. How do they know Ramiel?

There was a light tapping sound and the older voice spoke again, “Cedric, Ramiel, come to my location quickly. We may have found one of your brothers. He’s not in good shape.”

Malachai hears the faint but familiar sound of Cedric’s voice over the comm device the creature had, “What?! Please send your coordinates, we will be there soon.” 

Another tap and the coordinates were sent. A second familiar voice, Ramiel, echoed, “Danke, Mama. We are coming.”

Mama? Wait, when did Cedric and Ramiel get a mother? Maybe he was mistaken? These might not be his brothers. Malachai shifted uncomfortably, praying silently to the God Emperor that they are not the Hydra imposters. 

“I will send Leto to meet you part way. His injuries are extensive, so be prepared.”

“Can you ask what his name is?”

The creature looked at him expectantly, “What is your name, young one?”

He managed to cough out, “Malachai.”

“His name is Malachai.”

Two voices of confirmation. Finally, ‘Cedric’ said clearly, “Alright. See you soon. Tell Malachai to wait for us.”

“Leto, leave your set of healing potions here. Fly and find Ramiel and Cedric to meet them part way. They are patrolling the south end of the territory. Hurry.” The older feathered person urged. A rush of flapping announced Leto taking flight. There was a short pause then she spoke again, “Kallium, Erriox, get an apothecary to my location immediately. We found another Black Templar who’s badly injured. He looks young with a similar build to Ramiel.”

“Send us your location.” He could hear a deep, older voice this time. 

Malachai hears another short tap as the creature sends their location to whoever it is out there. She keeps on mentioning Cedric and Ramiel. And clearly knows what Black Templars look like. Plus she mentioned getting an apothecary? Maybe it really is Cedric and Ramiel coming. Though he wasn’t sure he was able to wait that long. He feels so cold and exhausted. 

“We’re on the north end, but we will be there soon. An apothecary is on his way.”

The creature winced as she assessed him from head to tail, worry growing as his eyes started to close. She sat by him, gently patting his cheek and pulling out a vial of pale blue-green liquid, “Malachai, fledgling, stay awake! You still need to wait for your brothers to get here, remember? This is a healing potion and some more in the pack. It should at least take some of the pain away, and hopefully heal some of your injuries. Will you let me give it to you?”

“Yes.” Malachai thought he had nothing to lose. It’ll be great if it works; if it doesn’t, then maybe it will send him to his grave faster. End his suffering. Hopefully. 

The feathered creature gently tipped the vial into the corner of his mouth, letting the injured scout slowly swallow the liquid bit by bit. Warmth seeped into his body, waking his cells to start repairing the damage. Malachai keened and writhed as his nerves also woke up to register the pain. 

Lenora swore and immediately gave him another vial, this time a powerful pain killer, “Malachai! You need to drink this one as well. This should ease your pain while your body is repairing itself.”

Malachai allowed her to pour its contents into his mouth, relaxing as he could feel the sharp spikes of pain drain away, allowing his mind to calmly think this time, “Thank you.” He sighed, then slowly blinked, “What are you? Cedric? Ramiel?”

Luckily, Lenora understood what he meant by his question. She gently stroked Malachai’s face, her heart breaking as she watched him turn towards her claw, close his eyes with a small smile. Like her other boys, it seemed like Malachai had not been treated with a kind hand either, “I am a harpy. My name is Lenora. Cedric and Ramiel are my adopted sons.”

“They got family? Where is here? They safe? S’cold…” Malachai forced the next few questions out. He was so curious about this Lenora who claimed to be his brothers’ adoptive mother.

The harpy looked at him worriedly as his speech started to slur. That was a high grade potion, and visually, it didn’t look like it had any effect. She frowned, that meant his internal injuries were extensive as well, the weaker healing potions would do more harm than good. 

“Malachai,” she pulled out her last high grade healing potion and prompted him gently, glad that he was still somewhat alert, “take another potion, I suspect you suffered heavily internally.”

“Do I have to?” Malachai whined a little, remembering how painful it was the first time he ingested a similar looking potion. 

Lenora smiled sadly at him, gently stroking his cheek, “Yes, my dear fledgling. You need to. Don’t you want to see Cedric and Ramiel? They are coming as quickly as they can. More help is coming. You need to survive to see them.”

“I don’t think it’s helping though.” The scout murmured, his voice fading out again. 

Her reply was soft but resolute, “We have to try. Can you do that for them? Please Malachai. I want you to see your brothers.” 

The harpy seemed so kind, and her touch was so gentle, and she only wanted the best for him. Malachai couldn’t help but lean into her. If Lenora was truly part of Ramiel and Cedric’s new family, he was assured that they were in good hands. If he survived, he would like to join them too. 

“Alright.” Again, he let her feed him the healing potion, this time Lenora was quick to follow up with another vial of painkiller potion. 

Malachai breathed in slow ragged breaths, “Thanks…you…” he could feel his body become slightly warmer. 

Lenora spread her other wing to cover his chest and partially his tail, remembering his complaint about being cold. Worry etched onto her brow, she could feel the warmth of his body slowly slipping again. There weren't any high grade potions left. Even if there were, Lenora wasn’t sure if Malachai’s body would be able to handle another dose without additional supplements. She vowed to keep Malachai awake for as long as possible. It was the least she could do. 

“What happened to you? Were you part of a large battle?” She asked. It was odd. His injuries didn’t match up from what could be typical injuries from battle. Like Leto said earlier, it looked like someone tortured this poor fledgling. 

Malachai’s one hand gripped onto a few of her flight feathers tightly, “Nooo… we… accused wrongly. Punished. By… Petras.” He bared his teeth in anger. 

That name sounded familiar. Lenora was sure she heard it from her boys at one point or another. But all this, just for punishment? This was concerning, this was even worse than what that Grey Knight did to Jophiel and Claude. 

“Shitty first born. Shitty chaplain.” Malachai grumbled. He suddenly gasped, “Cedric! Ramiel! Are they alright? Are they safe?”

“Yes, dear fledgling. Your brothers. They are safe, they are well cared for.” Lenora cooed. 

The scout mumbled, confused, “Fledgling? I am not a bird.” 

The harpy chortled, “That’s a term to describe younglings in my language.”

Lenora looked fondly at Malachai who was pouting a little. He reminded her so much of her Ramiel. 

“I’m not young. I’m… Almost four decades old!” The mer insisted. 

“And I’m over five decades old, youngling.” She chuckled. 

“Oh.” Malachai let out a weak sigh, he was young after all. He turned and rested his forehead against Lenora’s legs, wanting to sleep. He was so tired. In the next second, a clamor of voices sounded nearby and two large figures flew over to him, frantically calling his name. 

“Malachai!”

Ramiel and Cedric were moving as fast as they could, once they heard about Lenora and Leto finding a wounded Black Templar while on patrol. Trying to push themselves to move even faster once they realized it was Malachai.

‘Please.’ Ramiel thinks, ‘Oh God Emperor- let us be able to save Malachai this time.’

Ramiel calls out to Malachai again, his hearts going to his stomach as his brother barely twitches a little when they had first called out to him. “Malachai!”

He very gently grabs one of the other’s hands Cedric is in Apothecary mode as he tries his best to patch up his brother, Ramiel helping by getting him tools and calling out to Malachai as the other cracked his blue eyes open to see them.

“Ah- you are… Here too.” Malachai slurs out.

“Keep awake,” Ramiel says, blinking tears from his eyes, “Live brother, please.”

Cedric turned to Lenora, “Danke, mutter. We can take over now. What healing potions did you give him” he asked. 

“Two sets of high grade healing potion with a painkiller potion. It didn’t look like it’s done anything so I suspect he’s injured badly internally.” She replied, frowning. 

“You’re right.” Cedric barely could muster a clear reply, unable to meet his mother’s gaze. 

Lenora didn’t read too far into his troubling, almost knowing expression; she would ask him later. Saving Malachai took priority anyway. She stood and touched his shoulder, “I’ll give you boys space to work.” Lenora was moving out of their way when a tug on her wingtips made her look down. Her heart clenched when she saw Malachai still hanging on, “Malachai, dear, you can let go now. Cedric and Ramiel are here to help you.” 

“Okay.” Malachai said, sounding a tad dejected. Lenora's gaze softened. She reached under one wing and yanked out one of her large secondary flight feathers and placed it in his hand, “It’s yours to keep. For good luck.”

“So soft…” Malachai mumbled, marveling at the feather in his hands. 

“Danke.” Came his soft reply as his hand tightened around the feather. Lenora then joined Leto to the side, letting the boys work on their brother. A few minutes later, Kallium and Erriox arrived carrying a stretcher between them; along with Osteron, an Iron Warrior apothecary. He immediately flew to Cedric’s side. 

“Apothecary Cedric. What’s the diagnosis?” Osteron asks.

Cedric reports the wounds that Malachai has, the words are from memory, as much as they are from assessing him again; he ends with, “... The high level healing potions aren’t working.”

“M’cold again.” Malachai announced to Cedric, blinking up at his brother. He knew that Ramiel was nearby, and as the cold grew deeper he fumbled with the hand not holding the soft feather for the Judiciar. “Wasn’t your fault, Rami.”

Ramiel flinched, moving closer, reaching out and gently holding Malachai’s weakly flailing hand in both of his “I… I don’t…” He really didn’t want to try to have this conversation in front of Osteron, who was quite likely listening closely to what they were saying. 

“Not your fault… Petras’ bastardness. It’s not your fault, what he makes you do.” Malachai murmured earnestly, his bright blue eyes hazy and unfocused, though he was trying valiantly to actually look at Ramiel as he spoke. He paused for a moment, panting shallowly, out of breath before trying to find Cedric - who was desperately trying to keep him alive… Was that his mentor, lurking nearby? No… His coloration was off. But if Cedric trusted him near them, then so would Malachai. “Ced… Cedric. He’s gonna go after the others. I’m… I don’t think I’m gonna make it much further… N’ you gotta conserve the stuff you’ve got for them.”

“If… If you say so, Malachai.” Ramiel answered back, his voice wavering a little, and his eyes shining over-bright with tears that he refused to shed, at least not right now. He was focused on trying to calm and soothe Malachai while the Apothecaries attempted to save his life. He really hoped that they would be able to save him this time. “You’ve got to live, Malachai. You need to properly meet mama. I know that you’ll come to love her, as much as we do now.” 

Malachai’s voice was a shade quieter when he replied,  “I did meet her... Your mutter,… she’s nice.”

Cedric was listening closely to what Malachai had to say, even as he searched through his satchel of supplies. The high level healing potions weren’t working - probably because Malachai did not have enough energy to sustain the healing that he needed. His hands were rock steady, despite the tremors that were running through his body and the rapid flicking of his dorsal fin, and the way the tip of his tail whipped back and forth in high agitation. “The… The others are safe, Mal, I promise.”

“Really?” Malachai asked, a drowsy hopeful smile on his face. He was so cold, but the pain was going away again, which was really nice. 

“Truly, Brother. They… Brother Apothecary Xonfried is teaching the… The rest of your squad basic first aid procedures, and will be going over that for the next few hours. He knows better than to try and interrupt the chief Apothecary while he’s teaching, at least. By the time they’re done, Petras should have calmed down.” Cedric gently lied. There was no way to succinctly explain where and when they were, especially as Malachai was clearly not processing anything very well, or he would have reacted poorly to the Iron Warrior Apothecary who’d arrived. 

Malachai felt some of the tension that he’d managed to hold onto, through the pain, the cold and the slowly encroaching darkness, a smile warming his face as he let his eyes drift shut. Everything was blurry, anyways. “I’m so glad to hear that. Love you both.” His shallow breathing began to slow down, and his hearts were slowing down as well.

“No… No no no no! Not again! Please, Malachai, you need to stay awake! You need… You need to keep fighting, there’s… There’s got to be something we can do to help… Help you heal up!” Cedric growled, frantically dumping out the entire contents of his satchel, grabbing the most potent healing potion he had and lunging towards his brother who Wasn’t Going To Die Again, damn it!

A strong black and yellow striped hand grabbed at his wrist.

Cedric struggled and hissed, lunging at the wrist with teeth bared, about to bite when Osteron’s voice resounded in his ears “Stop, Cedric. Your brother is dead, and you know this as well as I do. Perhaps if he had appeared closer to one of the established bases, we might have been able to save him, but out here? He was too unstable to move, and we don’t have the resources necessary to stabilize him, much less save his life. Giving him that now would only prolong his suffering.” 

A low, furious growl rumbled from Cedric’s chest, and his bright blue eyes darkened with rage as he struggled against the older Apothecary’s iron grip “How dare you! How dare you stop me from trying to save him! You just want to butcher him, take him apart piece by piece in order to see what the differences between Primaris and Firstborn marines are on a physical level!” Cedric lobbed the high grade healing potion at Ramiel, knowing the other would catch it, even as he continued to struggle and hiss at Osteron.

“You are allowing your grief to say things you know aren’t true, Cedric.” Osteron countered, voice low, almost monotone in his lack of open emotion, both in voice and face. Callous, unfeeling bastard traitor!

Ramiel caught the high level healing potion and checked Malachai over, his hearts sinking low. “Cedric…”

“What? Give him the potion! Open his mouth and tip it down his throat if he won’t open his eyes.” Cedric ordered, still thrashing and growling at Osteron, trying to escape the older Apothecary’s grip. 

“His hearts have stopped beating, and he isn’t breathing anymore. He’s still warm, but… He’s gone.” Ramiel murmured, misery, guilt and sorrow warring for dominance in his hearts, tears starting to fall from his eyes. 

All of the fight abruptly left Cedric and he goes limp in the older Apothecary’s grip, his shoulders starting to shake violently as tears began to stream down his face “I failed him… Again…”

Familiar rough hands clasped his upper arms, though he could barely hear Erriox’s stern quiet voice. 

“Cedric… Look at me.”

Erriox nodded to Osteron to let go. 

It took Cedric a moment or two to comply, wrenching his eyes away from his brother's cooling corpse to look at Erriox “Ye-yes?”

His elder cousin’s amber eyes looked back at him, steadfastness and understanding in his gaze, “I know it is hard for you to believe me, but you did not fail your brother. It is not your fault that Malachai arrived here in the shape he was in. It is not your fault that there are no resources here that could possibly stabilize and save Malachai in such a place. That, as well as where he appeared is out of your control. Do not lay that guilt on yourself.” 

Cedric protested, “That last healing potion! That could’ve… It could’ve saved him!” 

Erriox was patient as he refuted his argument, “Cedric. Think about it. Lenora gave Malachai two high grades already with painkillers. And still it did not seem to do anything. You know Osteron is correct. You are familiar with how healing potions work. You’ve seen how it has to draw on the body itself to heal the user’s wounds.”

“That last potion would have killed him. If not right there, then he would have died in transit.” The Iron Warrior apothecary added solemnly, “Considering pain killers were also used, that healing potion would have only caused him more suffering.”

“That’s not… I… Malachai could…” garbled words came out of his mouth as Cedric’s mind attempted to form sentences. He didn’t even register that it was him who was making the wails of grief, only the feeling of his broken heart being crushed by the heavy weight of knowing there were more of his brothers who were unjustly punished and beaten to near death out there somewhere. Malachai wasn’t the only one. If he couldn’t save Malachai, how would he be able to save the others if they found them?

Erriox wrapped his arms around his adopted son, letting the Primaris scout lean into him.

Cedric slowly leans into Erriox at first, before crumbling completely, allowing his papa to hold him as he weeps for Malachai. For his other brothers who had been badly beaten and he can’t help but wonder if any of the others have also appeared on Ancient Terra… But Unlike Malachai, they had not been found, or at least found by no one who would report their injuries, or their death… His hearts ache as he hides his face in one of Erriox’s shoulders, clinging tightly. Why was Malachai brought here, only to die again? It wasn’t fair! 

Ramiel tensed uncomfortably when he heard his brother’s mournful cries, his own tears blurring his vision. If we could’ve found you earlier, Malachai… he let out a shaky breath. Roughly wiping his eyes with his hand, he readies himself to give Malachai his final rites. He still had his job to do. 

Gentle hands patted his arm, making Ramiel look down at his harpy mother and cousin. He leans into her touch as Lenora wipes away more of his tears, “Mama…” he croaked, his throat feeling dry and swollen, choking the words that he wanted to voice. 

“Ramiel… I’m sorry about Malachai…” his mother replied, her tone gentle and sad. Two sets of wings wrapped around him. 

“I’m sorry for your loss, cousin.” Leto added. 

Ramiel sank on his tail and tightly hugged both of them, “It’s all my fault! I should’ve stopped him. Malachai wouldn’t have died like this!” He wept. His hearts hurt so much. 

“Stopped who, Fledgling?”  Lenora asks as she hugs him back.

“... My mentor, back in M42, Chaplain Captain Petras,” Ramiel says, “.... He has… A rather bad temper, and tends to go too far while punishing Primaris marines… Sometimes I was able to convince him to let me take the punishment in my brother's place if I realized he was going too far…. But..”

Lenora’s claws pushed on the back of his head, pressing his forehead against hers, “Then it would have been you who would die in Malachai’s place.” Her voice was full of sorrow. When she released him, Ramiel saw a pained expression on his mother’s face, “Malachai told me how Petras beat him. Punishing him unjustly and excessively for something him and his squad were innocent of. If you took his place, Petras would not stay his hand or be any less heavy-handed in his punishment.”

Leto growled, angry at the injustice, “That Petras is a disgusting sadist! I bet he gets his rocks off beating young mers like that!” 

“Leto… not at this time.” Lenora chided. 

“But it’s not wrong! How could any sort of mentor deal this kind of punishment to the point that even his tail is broken in two places! We all know that is debilitating, especially for a merperson!” The young gannet harpy snarled, her feathers raised in agitation. Ramiel flinches at that, Leto isn’t wrong, Petras could be… deliberate in how far he went. 

“... He’s a Chaplain,” Ramiel mumbles miserably, burying his face into his mother’s feathers in shame, “They are supposed to be the heart and soul of the pod. The Captain and officers the brain, the rest of the brothers the body, sword, shield, and armor.”

“A poisoned heart that is allowed to destroy the body does no one any good and should be replaced- “ she grumbles. 

“You may be right, but that is enough, Leto. Ramiel doesn’t need to hear any more of that.” Lenora scolds the younger harpy. 

Leto’s anger deflated when she saw how despondent her cousin became. She hugged him tightly and murmured, “I’m sorry, Ramiel.”

“S’okay.”  Came his muffled reply. 

Kalium’s voice cut through the air, “Not to hurry things along, but what do you need to do next, Ramiel?”

The young Judiciar straightened back up and wiped his eyes, feeling ashamed that the Iron Warrior mers had seen his moment of weakness, “We need to recover Malachai’s geneseed then conduct his final rites.” 

Cedric held several jars for the geneseed retrieval, “There should be enough containers to retrieve all of Malachai’s organs. Osteron has more if needed.” He says quietly. 

Lenora asked, “Ramiel, would you mind if we give our blessings to Malachai before you do so? It will be quick and then we will get out of your way.”

“Please do.” Malachai wouldn’t have minded anyways.

Lenora knelt by Malachai and pressed a kiss to his forehead, “Son, may Skymother keep you. I pray that you will see your brothers again in your next life, under happier circumstances.” She smiled sadly, brushing away some stray hairs from his face. She then moved over for Leto. 

The gannet harpy plucked one of her secondary flight feathers and placed it in Malachai’s hand. Like Lenora, she kissed his forehead, “May Stormbringer guide you and bring your perpetrator to justice so that he will be punished for his sins. I pray that your soul be vindicated. Rest in peace, Cousin.”

Ramiel was touched by their words. He thanked the two harpies before they left. Lenora nuzzled him, “None of this is your fault, Ramiel. Please remember that.” 

He couldn’t really meet his adoptive mother’s gaze, “I… I will try.”

“I know.” Lenora patted his cheek before paying her farewells to the rest of the group. She then took off with Leto to return to the gannet roost. 

Cedric aided Osteron in preparing the body, his hands going through the motions, pausing for a moment before saying “I am… Unsure how Iron Warriors deal with their dead, beyond removing geneseed and any viable organs for use… But amongst the Black Templars, we cremate them and forge their ashes into blades, which are given to Brothers they were close to. To allow them to continue their Eternal Crusade, despite having fallen in battle.”

Ramiel had finished creating the funeral pyre for Malachai to be put to rest within. He held a jar of the sacred oils of anointment in his hands which were only trembling a little. He helped Cedric and the others carry Malachai’s dead body over to and placed properly within the pyre, murmuring the final prayers given to Dead Brothers as he spread the oil across his brows, chest and tail, finishing with a slightly shaky “As… As the purifying flames of the God-Emperor consume the flesh and souls of the wicked, the xenos and the heretic, His cleansing flames purify the bodies and souls of his fallen warriors. We are kindling to fuel the fires of the Eternal Crusade. The ash of Malachai’s body is to be forged into Blades of Remembrance, to arm his still living brothers, so he may continue to Crusade at our sides.”

Cedric stared into the flames, the acrid scent of burning flesh, of the taste of failure was pungent in his nose and on his tongue. Still, he diligently tended to the fire until all that was left of Malachai was ash and chunks of his larger bones. “We’re going to need a forge, and additional supplies to forge his ashes into blades of Remembrance. We will need to trade for time in the former, and for the supplies for the latter.” He mumbled. He’s not sure what the Iron Warriors will ask of them in payment for this, but from… From his interactions with not-papa, he hopes that they will also be reasonable, rather than opportunistic in their demands. 

He’s heard about a Salamander base, but that is allegedly weeks away, rather than the much-closer Steelix Base. Perhaps they would be willing to trade different kinds of materials? Cedric does have the specific weapons-pattern that the Blades of Remembrance are supposed to be forged into - and they are held as sacred by the Black Templar Chapter… Would the Iron Warriors ask for the weapons-pattern? His hearts churned uneasily at the thought. It would be sacrilegious to do so… But he’s already been consorting with members of a Traitor legion for some time now…

Ramiel stares into the flames, murmuring the prayers to guide Malachai’s soul into the Light of the God Emperor, and to join The Legion of the Damned -those brothers and cousins with souls Fiery and Stubborn enough to Serve, even in Death. He wonders how he and Cedric are going to trade and pay for the time in the Forge- and the specific items required to make the Blade of Remembrance. He’s got the oils, the prayers, and between him and Cedric should be able to make Proper blades, at least two.

Osteron and Kallium had left after Malachai’s body was laid onto the funeral pyre. They decided not to wait around as they had their own duties to tend to, leaving Erriox behind to accompany his two adopted Black Templar sons. 

The Iron Warrior mer was admittedly curious about the funerary rituals of that chapter, though he was quite sure that the Emperor of Mankind was very much a human and not a God in his time. He heard Cedric’s quiet mumble. It was interesting that they forge their fallen brothers’ ashes into weaponry allowing their soul to continue the fight against xenos and chaos. Erriox thought it was a rather smart idea to reuse their Astartes brothers like that, pity the sons of Perturabo hadn’t thought of it first nor had the time to bring that to fruition. He contemplated Cedric’s words then said to him, “I won’t deny that I am interested in your weapons design, but your mother would be disappointed if the sanctity of the funerary ritual for Malachai was treated callously. Steelix Base is not solely composed of Iron Warriors. There is a Salamander cousin who oversees the forges at the base. I can negotiate with him unless you prefer to go to the Salamander base instesd.”

Hearing that, both Templars relaxed a little, “What would the price for that be?” Cedric warily asked. 

Erriox shrugged, “Likely assistance time and materials, but you should ask Korbak yourselves and see if his requests are reasonable or not.”

Ramiel paused in his prayers, saying, “Speaking with Korbak would be most ideal since Steelix Base is much closer to home. If that doesn’t work then we’ll contact the Salamander base.”

“I will get in touch with Korbak then.” Erriox answered, quickly sending a vox message to his cousin. 

Ramiel continues to murmur prayers as Cedric tends to the fire, churning the ashes, to ensure as much of Malachai’s body becomes ash. He coughs a little and closes his eyes briefly before opening them up again.

“Brother Malachai is… was strong of hearts, keen of mind, and zealous in his care of Our Brothers und devoted to Our Cause,” Ramiel begins, hoping his voice isn’t shaking or Cracking with grief. As the … highest ranking Chaplain (in training, and not even a decade into it, at that) it was his duty to start the Tales of Glory. 

He continues on, embellishing (only a little bit) the Greatest Battle he knew of, that Malachai had participated in. Speaking of his valours and triumphs. Of the lessons he’d taught and of the might of his sword arm. After he finished telling all of the Tales of Battle that he knew that Malachai had participated in his voice had gone quiet. He was painfully aware that most brothers who fall can have hours of stories- of many battles.

Ramiel was frantically casting his mind about- they still have a pyre to tend to, ashes to take care of, but he doesn’t recall any more battles or stories that show the Valor, The Honor, the Righteous Fury of his brother (that … doesn’t involve Him or… less than kind First Born Loyalist older brothers and cousins).

“... I-if there are any others who have m-more stories to tell of Malachai,” Ramiel ends, feeling painfully inadequate and like he was failing his brother. Again. “You may speak of them now.”

Erriox noticed a silence after Ramiel prompts for more stories of Malachai. Not surprising, as Malachai died so young, not even four decades old. He inwardly cringes at the thought of how long and tedious such rituals would be for Black Templar Astartes more than three hundred years old. Perhaps he should say something, out of respect, and to support the two scoutlings. Lenora would be pleased for him to do so. 

“I do not know Malachai, but Lenora and I would be glad to have him to join our family had he survived.” A sudden inspiration struck and Erriox continued, “Malachai, once you are reforged, always strike true to the heart of your enemies.”

Cedric quietly listened to Ramiel’s recitation, cognizant of which stories that his brother was choosing not to share - while they showed how brave and stalwart Malachai was, it would also reveal certain… Unfortunate at times inner workings of the chapter to outsiders… And the young Apothecary had been keenly aware of how furious Cousin Leto was over what had happened to poor Malachai… Should she hear the precise details as to why and how he’d gotten so badly injured… He wasn’t sure what she would attempt, but merAstartes were very powerful, and he did not want her badly beaten or killed for trying to avenge Malachai. 

He cleared his throat a little, offering up “Malachai was an excellent leader, among his Brothers. He would do his best to ensure that those who were placed under his command were treated as well as he could manage, and would ensure that they were provisioned with everything they needed for missions.” There. That was both true and probably wouldn’t raise any alarm. Cedric hoped.

If Erriox was suspicious of anything, he certainly didn’t show it. He assisted them in collecting Malachai’s ashes. “Cedric, Ramiel, do you want to take Malachai’s remains home or to the base?” he asked. 

Cedric glanced over at Ramiel, mulling over Erriox's question. “I think… I think I'd rather have his remains at home. At least until we've been able to negotiate for forge time and the supplies we need to create Blades of Remembrance. Rami, how do you feel?”

Ramiel looked down at the containers full of geneseed in his arms, “I… agree. Malachai should stay with us for the time being. If that’s fine with you, cousin.” They won’t have to worry about anybody potentially stealing Malachai’s geneseed and… it would be nice for Malachai to have a place at home with them and be part of their family for however long they could keep his remains. Erriox and Lenora didn’t mind that Catius kept Atlas’ remains at their nest for a long time, before he finally brought Atlas to the geneseed storage at the base. They wouldn’t mind if he and Cedric did the same for Malachai. 

“That’s fine.” Erriox replied, “Let’s get Malachai home then.”

Ramiel ended with a voice full of regret, “I know that you, Malachai, and Mama told me that it’s not our fault, but it’s hard not to blame myself. I had beat him with the electro whip because of my mentor’s orders. Because he is a Primaris, he could take more physical punishment so Honorable Chaplain Petras wouldn’t allow me to stop. I could’ve stopped. I should’ve stopped.” he broke down, painfully reminding the Iron Warrior mer of how young he actually was.

Erriox quietly listened, grimacing from hearing Ramiel refer to his sadistic mentor as “Honorable Chaplain”. It left a bad taste in his mouth. And here he thought that the Iron Warriors were well trained due to trauma. Just how brainwashed were these Primaris marines? He sighed, then answered Ramiel, “You listened to your mentor, but he still beat Malachai until he died. Even if you did stop, he would beat Malachai worse and your brother’s fate would still remain the same. Perhaps worse, he forces you to watch or finish off your brother.” 

“I… suppose.” his adopted son mumbled.

“Some guilt will live with us until the moment we die. No one can truly outrun it, we could only manage it.”

“Did Mama teach you to say that?” Ramiel side-eyed the firstborn Iron Warrior. It definitely sounded like something Lenora would say. 

Checking over his shoulder to see his mate still sleeping, Erriox chuckled slightly, “Something like it.” He then asked him, “What do you know of the Fourth Legion’s history?”

Ramiel recited as his mind recalled the lessons of each legion’s history, “They said the Fourth was under the traitor Perturabo. They were logistically an effective fighting force specializing in siege warfare, but the primarch held little love for his sons. The first thing he did when he met the Iron Warriors was to decimate his own legion. Everything and everybody was a piece to be used, including daemons. They do not worship under any specific chaos god.“

“Enough.” Erriox frowned, shame creeping into the back of his mind. It was no secret that Perturabo hated his sons. They were never good enough, effective enough. However, it was one thing to know the truth himself, but to hear it spoken aloud from someone else’s mouth was disconcerting at best.

Ramiel flinched, noticing Erriox’s darkened expression, “Did I say something wrong?” He asked nervously. 

The Iron Warrior mer let out a sigh and gestured Ramiel to follow him, “No. Come with me. I want to show you something.”

The Black Templar mer followed his firstborn cousin to the work table and watched as Erriox took a small wooden box from the shelf above it. 

“What is it?” Cedric’s sleep-muddled voice asked, “Morning.” He added when the other two turned to look at him. 

“Morning, bruder. I am… speaking with Erroix, you can go back to sleep if you’d like to, Cedric,” Ramiel says.

Cedric shook his head and floated over to the work table, “I want to see what you’re looking at too.”

It was a somewhat plain box with symbols carved along the edges of the lid, closed shut with a simple latch and pin. Ramiel was curious to see what’s in the box- noticing the way Erriox grabs it, solemn and holding it like it contains something painful, or at least holds tokens of painful memories. 

Inside were several talons, large and small, each twined with a few feathers and beads carved from seaglass and shells in aesthetically pleasing bundles. There were also small bunches of feathers tied together in a similar fashion. Three large grey scales likely from another Iron Warrior mer and a small shard of bright blue ceramite armor laid among the talons and feathers. 

Cedric quickly blinked the sleep from his eyes, “Is that from Atlas’ armor?” He asked. 

Erriox confirmed his identification, “Yes, there were several more pieces we had to remove from Atlas’ armor so Catius decided to keep one here.”

Ramiel quickly understood what the box was. He could smell the similarities between the talon bundles and his harpy mother, “These are the remains of those who have died…” he said softly. He noticed there were a fair number of the talon and feather bundles, which worried his hearts with the thought of how fragile and short his Mama’s life was compared to theirs. Ramiel didn’t dare voice that thought though, he didn’t want to further worry Cedric and Erriox. 

The three grey scales caught Ramiel’s eyes. Glancing over to Cedric, he noticed his eyes were pinned on the dried blood on the scales. 

“Are they from your brother?” He asked Erriox carefully, nervous about offending him with his question. 

The Iron Warrior mer took one of the scales out, looking at it with a nostalgic expression, “These scales belonged to my brother and mentor, Rannok. You both know about the decimation of the Fourth.” He looked at the two Scoutlings who nodded, “As a legion, we had to follow as our genefather decreed, not following his orders was out of the question. We were ordered to beat the chosen brothers to death using our bare claws. My brother, Rannok, was unlucky enough to draw the short straw in our group. I took part in killing him. He did not die a quick death.” Erriox became solemn as he put the scale back, “This was all I could recover from him.” 

Erriox looked at his boys, an almost pained expression on his face. It was the first time they’ve seen their scout sergeant/ paternal figure lose his stoic demeanor like this, “You are not alone in feeling this way. The longer you live, the more regret and guilt you will endure, it’s a matter of how well you can move on from it with the lessons you’ve learned.” He let out a bitter huff, “Rannok was a good mentor and a close brother of mine and I helped tear him apart. Even now, there are times I wonder what would happen if I protested, or took his place.”

Both Scoutlings were stunned into silence. They were taught that the traitorous Fourth were callous and unfeeling of their own. Always thinking on how someone could be of use and disposed of if not useful. Not once had they thought that the Iron Warriors would have a sense of brotherhood among them. Not once had they thought about how similar or even worse punishments the other legion went through. They saw that Rannok’s death still affected their Firstborn cousin; this was the first time Erriox openly said anything to them about it. Hearing that story, Ramiel, while still feeling guilty over Malachai, understood what his elder cousin was trying to say and was glad that he was not alone. 

A gentle voice interrupted their thoughts, “Then I don’t think I would have met you in this universe at this time as you are, perhaps.” Lenora sidled in under Erriox’s arm, leaning relaxed against his torso with one wing wrapped around his back. 

“Guten morgen, Mama/Mutter.” The Scoutlings greeted her. 

“Morning, love.” Erriox purred as he shared a loving kiss with his mate. 

“Morning, love.” Lenora replied warmly and nuzzled him. She then turned to Cedric and Ramiel with a kind smile, “Morning, boys. I see Erriox has shown you the box with the remains of our loved ones.”

“Yes, Mama.” Ramiel answered. 

“This box is a way to show that our loved ones, who passed on, still have a place in our hearts and in our home.” Lenora explained, “If you have a part of Malachai you wish to keep here, you can. Like all of your brothers, both of you have access to this box whenever you wish since you are part of our family.”

Cedric and Ramiel felt touched by their adoptive mother’s words. It’s such a beautiful and sincere gesture and it reminded them of the relics that their chapter carried with them. Cedric looked at Ramiel, who nodded. He swam over to his nest and returned holding a small bag containing some of Malachai’s remaining bone shards. Putting the bag into the box, Cedric said, “Malachai, you’re home now. You’re safe here with Rami and I, the rest of our Brothers, and Mama and Papa. Once you’re reforged, we’ll take you to see brother Roland and Arnault and their bonded. You would like them. They are very kind.” Though his hearts remained heavy, knowing a piece of Malachai can remain at home with them, lightened the sorrowful burden. 

“Mama, may I give a blessing for them?” Ramiel asked, not wanting to overstep cultural boundaries and disrespect his mother. She smiled at him, “Of course you can.”

Ramiel smiled back, “Danke.” He poured a little holy oil onto his finger and swiped the lip of the box and then its lid, then spoke reverently, “God-Emperor grant us your blessing. Protect these kind souls who have taken in our brother Malachai. May you always keep them in your golden light.”

“Thank you for your blessing, Ramiel. That was lovely of you to say that.” Lenora said as soon as he was done. 

Both her and Erriox were slightly taken aback when the two Black Templar Scoutlings suddenly hugged them together. 

“Danke. Thank you, Mama, Papa, for allowing Malachai to stay here with us and join your family.” Cedric said in his quiet whisper-purr. 

Ramiel lifted up Lenora so he could nuzzle both his adoptive parents more easily, “Thank you for all the help you’ve given us to take care of Malachai. Danke, thank you for everything.”

Lenora and Erriox shared a quick, but fond smile with one another before replying to their adopted sons, “You will always have our support.”

“You are part of our family, we’re here to help you when you need us."

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

What do I know about you? - Part 4

Previous Chapter Here!

Next Chapter (Under Construction): Here!

Where it all started! HERE!

Summary: Lullaby finds some common ground with the marine serving as Khopesh’s eyes and ears, and a slightly more positive perspective. Meanwhile Khopesh is facing very Un-Astarte like feelings and does Not enjoy it.

Tags: @felinisnoctis @barn-anon @kit-williams @sleepyfan-blog @bleedingichorhearts @egrets-not-regrets @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @passionofthesith @bispecsual

Authors Notes: Another collaboration with @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan and characters from @kit-williams and @sleepyfan-blog! If I've used one of your boys and forgot to mention it please tell me.

As the familiar sight of his neighborhood and specifically his Lullaby's home comes into view Khopesh feels…uneasy. 

There's no active danger. No charging enemy force or xenos threat, the landscape is as peaceful as he'd left it. 

So why does he feel like he needs to burst from his armor and Run with every step. His insides feel jumbled and conflicted and his hearts are racing. 

Get inside, get the items, get back to Lullaby. He repeats the mantra in his head over and over. Using it to stay focused. 

He's so focused on getting Into Lullaby's house and getting this Over with he nearly jumps when movement over to his left catches his attention.

“Khopesh? Is that you?” A salt and pepper head of hair popping up from behind one of the vehicles is what had triggered his reaction. Even if he'd never met this human personally he knows instantly who he is.

Lullaby takes a great deal after their father. The older man notices him and heads over to the Nightlord.

“Ah- there you are Khopesh,” Lullaby’s father says, looking him over. “I’m just heading out to see Lullaby.” He explains. 

Khopesh doesn't know how to respond. His body is still thrumming, and he really is Not in any mood for small talk. In fact talking feels like it would exhaust him even more than he already is. 

But Lullaby's father continues. He...Just…Keeps…T a l k i n g!

“They mentioned you'd be swinging by to grab a few things. I've got them packed up here so you wouldn't have to dig for em.” The man says gesturing to a box he has on his car. “Said they wanted their rabbit, their blanket and-”

(!) Something suddenly snapped in the Nightlord. (A small snap though, he wasn't going to harm his Lullaby's father.) “I Am Well Aware of what my Lullaby requested.” He cut the older human off with a sharp hand wave. “AND I would have been more than Capable of Digging, these items out.” Khopesh continued with a mild growl in his voice. 

“Your interference was unneeded, I will take it from here-” The Nightlord attempted to brush past the human male.

“What did you just say to me?”

Khopesh perked up at the shift in the man's tone. It had been awkward but friendly at first, now it sounded…much less so. 

Fine. “I said your Interference was unneeded.” Khopesh replied with a bitter edge to his voice. “I will be gathering and giving these items to My Partner. Your involvement otherwise would only be A Hindrance.”

A new expression settled over the human man's face, and Khopesh felt a strange new emotion twist inside, competing with his pent up frustration. 

It almost felt like…guilt. Maybe because that was the specific look Lullaby had given him when they'd told him to back off trying to prove something with the spicy ramen. 

Curze's sake they really Did look very much alike. Nature vs nurture who can say?

Khopesh was broken from his train of thought when the father before him spoke up. “Listen, you might be my child's ‘partner’ but that's just it. They were my child first young man!” Oh damn he'd seen this before, his Vada looked a lot like this when he got protective. And more guilt filled his gut with each passing word. “And I know when my child is lying to me.” He affirmed. “So don’t bullshit me! What’s going on with them?”

Khopesh pulls himself together for a moment from the disbelief. Is Lullaby's whole family so bizarrely fearless??

He pulls on his Nightlord intimidation and looms as he frowns down at the older baseline human. Most tend to be nervous around Space Marines- and a lot are openly fearful of Night Lords.

But apparently not in this Family??? The old man (who isn't quite as old as his Vada) squares his shoulders and meets Khopesh's gaze head on. He’s surprised that Lullaby’s father isn’t backing down. 

“I can do this All Day.” He huffs, crossing his arms. “So you might as well tell me sooner, rather than later.”

Caught out, flat footed, utterly exhausted and looking into the stone set gaze of a man who reminds him far too much of both his Vada and His Lullaby. 

Because he's Lullaby's vada, of course he reminds you of both. An inner voice replies.

And that's when Khopesh realizes… he…he actually Does want to tell him. I mean…he's literally half of what Created his Lullaby, raised his Lullaby, helped make them the person that Khopesh had grown to…care for so much. 

However, Khopesh knows that he can’t directly tell the man what is going on.

Partly because the man won’t understand what’s happening to them, and another because even He doesn't fully understand what's happening to them. 

Which is terrifying. 

He struggles for a moment before saying, “Lullaby is under the Care of Apothecary Hura, so they are safe.” His voice is more dampened, neutral, trying to keep a leash on just how unhappy he is about the situation, and the fact that his Father Anrir and Hura had basically stolen Lullaby from him. 

The human man notices the subtle souring of his expression, and the way the younger man’s hands clench and unclench.

Lullaby’s father arches an eyebrow at the young Nightlord , “Is there…. Anything about their situation that has worsened?” That is one of the most pressing concerns that he has.

“...” Khopesh is uncertain as to how to answer that question. There is so much that he doesn’t know and its starting to really bother him.

He’s… he feels so lost at this moment, and Khopesh takes in a slow deep breath as he pulls on his Bond- the urge, the need to check on his Vada and Muti. Safe- alive, happy, healthy. That soothes something deep in his hearts.

“You're just as much in the dark as we are I guess.” Khopesh turns to the man, and he sees a similar expression of worry. 

“You know…when that one first had their…fall.” He begins, swallowing as he seems to be mulling over the words. “It was the Worst feeling I had ever known. And I always wondered…if I'd been there. Or maybe if I'd stayed home that day. Maybe…maybe it wouldn't have happened.”

Khopesh listens. In all this happening and stress, he'd actually forgotten the Golden Bastard was a factor. The factor really. 

He'd kill him. Skin him. Force feed him his own intestines for this- 

“It was hard…going back to work. Not being able to help as much with their recovery. Of course I'll never be able to thank the Astarte therapists and doctors enough. And especially the ones who helped them that day they…They saved my b-bear…” The Baseline begins to choke up a bit. 

“But…as odd as it sounds. Having you around it…put my mind at ease.”

Khopesh perked up at that, but he was confused. 

“Now don't get me wrong when you First showed up I…won't deny I was pretty uncertain. But then you know what happened?” The man asks Khopesh with a slight mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Lullaby came home, raving about how you'd spooked them. At first they were annoyed. But the more they talked, I could tell they…didn't really mind you popping in from time to time.”

“Talking about how they sassed you. Or managed to not jump at your latest prank. Or even how Cute you looked helping Nancy and Gary or chasing the chickens or trying to handle the feed scoops.”

Khopesh snorted, Astartes shouldn't appreciate being called cute but…it was from his Lullaby so it was Different!

“And…knowing that you were always so close. Basically another set of eyes and one that was more a fixture in the neighborhood, it…helped me. Helped all of us feel…just a little bit safer. That if something bad, like another…fall, were to happen again. My bear bear wouldn't be left without help.” The man finishes, putting a hand on the Night Lords arm. “Thank you for that. Truly. I'm glad you came here and decided to stay.”

Khopesh feels his insides churn again. This time with a mix of sadness, guilt and warmth. Why'd he have to be such a fuckin prick before!? Lullaby's vada didn't deserve that! He decides to put those feelings aside so he can respond. “Thank you…I wish I could…do more.”

“You've done a lot. I know my Bear appreciates you.”

He's…he’s so fucking glad to hear that but F-fuck! Those fucking squirming feelings in his insides are flaring up again. He feels like he's about to…

No. No he can't do that here! He won't!

(!) Then he feels it. Another pull on his bond, a more insistent one this time. His head immediately swivels to his house. 

The Baseline human notes his attention shift. “What is it?”

“My Vada and Muti…I need to go check on them.” He states knowing this is undeniable. “But…Lullaby needs their comfort items I can't -!” He feels a bit like he's about to tear his hair out. 

“Go.” Khopesh turns to Lullaby's vada. The human Baseline encourages him. “I'll tell Bear you needed to check on your family. And you'll bring the box with you once you're done.” He states picking up the box of items from his car hood so he can hand them to Khopesh. “They'll understand.”

Khopesh looks at the box, then at Lullaby's vada. He's still clearly worried, but he's putting on a warm brave face. 

Yes, Lullaby wouldn't fault him for needing to take a family detour but…

Khopesh gently pushes the box back into Lullaby's vada's arms. 

They don't Need Him to be the one to deliver these items. “They should get these items as soon as possible.” Khopesh explains to remove the baselines confusion. “Go to them. Tell them I will be there as soon as I can and…Comfort them…while I cannot.”

Lullaby's Vada adjusts his hold on the box and smiles. “Alright. I will. My wife will be there soon too.”

The human man loads the box into his car and starts on his way down the road as Khopesh proceeds in the opposite direction. 

He picks up speed and vaults towards the source of his bond. And while he's still uncertain, he appreciates his Lullaby won't be alone for much longer. 

_____________________

Claude had sent the request to Anrir and Hura that he be able to speak with Lullaby, in part because access to them had become restricted due to the unknown and unrecorded nature of their bond and their potential for being a Psyker- one of the first recorded that they have heard of.

At least they are letting you see them.

The Medical-talk is confusing- see if Cedric understands their ramblings when you talk to him next time.

Hope you don’t fuck things up for Khopesh and Lullaby further.

Claude is allowed to visit them for a bit, and he’s going to be allowed to talk to them, just keep at least a five pace distance between himself and them. For the next test, he’s not allowed to touch them, for now to see if there is anything that happens or doesn’t happen. 

Quick! Say something nice.

At least Lullaby understands what it’s like to be a Cursed Wretch.

Like you are. A Cursed, wretched half broken tool.

Even the absence of something happens could give them new data, or at least another route to take. Or so Claude heard the older space marine mutter- him and Hura talking hypotheticals that make his head hurt.

Claude knocks on the door and hears Lullaby’s voice that bid him to enter, “Hello Lullaby,”

They look so tired.

Your little zap has caused SO much trouble!

What a mess you helped make!

He tries not to be nervous, and rubs his hands against his pants and looks over at them.

“Ah so…” You pose somewhat awkwardly. “You feel anything different happening?”

Claude shakes his head. “No…but I um…”

Your eyebrow raises curiously at the way Claude seems to be fumbling to get his words out. 

“I just…I wanted to let you know, that I know what it’s like to be cursed.” Claude means that very sympathetically. 

Uh…what? “What do you mean?” You ask, confused, frowning across the room at Claude a little.

Claude reminds you of the words you’d spoken earlier, and his earnest expression as he rubs his chest as he explains how he understands what it’s like to feel so wretched, so cursed, how, “And you feel like everything you touch gets corrupted or perverted. Or like you are a plague upon others- only meant to cause them harm.”

Hopefully Anrir and Hura will remember their limits as a baseline human.

I hope that they can learn to control their powers.

If A psyker cann’t control their powers. Their only use is to die.

You have a sudden realization, like a crashing wave, as you hear some of the words, thoughts and feelings that you'd had, reflected back at them from Claude. 

And however right it had felt in the moment to voice those negative thoughts they'd clearly sunk deeper into more than just yourself. 

“I…don't think it's healthy to be talking about yourself that way.” You say. 

Of course its not healthy.

You aren’t the most stable of Astartes.

I wonder how worried they’d be if they knew about the voices in your head.

Claude's brow furrows in confusion. “I don't understand.”

“Look, I know what I said earlier.” You explain shifting to fully face the young space marine. “I was angry and frustrated and…scared outta my mind that something I don't fully understand could end up hurting the people around me.”

“And while it's fine to be cautious, and to self-reflect, I went too far, letting my meanest inner voice speak. But you know what I'm starting to realize?”

Don’t listen to them!

They’re just a baseline- what do they know about the burdens of Astartes?

“What?” Claude asks tilting his head a little curious to what you are going to say next.

“That inner voice is full of horseshit.” You reply, cheekily. “And if your mean inner voice is telling you Anything like what mine tells me, I'd say it's pretty full of horse shit too.”

Claude doesn't seem fully convinced. “I'm not sure about that…”

You had a feeling Claude's…perspective on this had more history than just your recent outburst. 

Sure- they may have a potentially parasitic bond. 

At least it’s no where near as deadly as psykery can be.

They don’t understand just how dangerous the warp touched are. Not yet at least.

Guess that meant you had more threads to snip than just your own. 

“You remember what Anrir said, right? After I called myself a parasite?” You prompted. “It's a phrase I've heard before, and I stand by it. The most important part of Any tool is how it's used.”

“You, and I have Tools, that others don't. And sure we Could do bad things. A brick can smash a window, but that same brick can also help build a house.” You continue. “And if I'm going to be a parasite, then you better damn Bet that I'm gonna be a useful parasite. A parasite that helps.” You declare.

Claude actually cracks a smile. “Parasites can indeed be important to ecosystems.”

So long as they are not overeager.

So long as the parasites don’t take over the ecosystem.

“And so can your so-called ‘curses’.” You insist. “Without your powers we'd still be in the dark about mine.”

Claude seems surprised, before he mumbles a bit. “If I didn't have psychery you wouldn't be stuck here…”

“Maybe, but that also means I could've accidentally harmed Khopesh's bond without knowing, or zapped someone else who…would not have reacted as well to what's going on with me.” You counter. “As scary as this all is, I'm glad I'm in a place where people can help me. I wouldn't have that without your zap.”

Someone far worse and cruel could have zapped them.

Like a Chaos Astartes. That would have been so much worse.

The teal in Claude's eyes flares up for a moment. “Ah…I guess that is true.”

“I mean it Claude. I…I'm very grateful that you're helping me. And I'm glad You helped me discover this. Rather than something more…traumatic happening.”

Now you see a slight blush appear on the space marine's face. “Ah…you're welcome? I still feel a little bad though…for all This, happening…”

You grin wryly. “Tell you what? You can make it up to me.” 

Here comes the other shoe.

The catch twenty two, or so others on Ancient Terra call it.

I wonder what they want?

Claude perks up. “What is it? What can I do to help?”

“I'm only gonna ask one thing. And so I'm not a hypocrite, I'll agree to it as well.” You say. “I don't want you calling yourself cursed, or a blight, or Any of that negative self talk around your powers. And as long as you do. I'll do the same. Deal?”

Claude flushes, his nose and ears and cheeks going bright pink, “I…I will try not to say that about myself, so long as you do, Lullaby.”

You nod approvingly. “Good. Then it's settled. By the way, is the touch timer up?” You ask, genuinely curious but also for another reason. 

Claude thinks to himself for a moment. “I think it has been long enough.”

You shrugged. “Good.” You hopped off the hospital bed, and strode towards Claude. Before the Primaris could question your actions you opened up your arms, lifting them. “You okay with a hug or should I pretend I meant to just stretch my arms…save us the awkwardness?”

Well Claude hadn't been expecting that but…hugs Were nice. Plus if it made Lullaby more comfortable with their situation it would fall under the category of caring for them while Khopesh was unable. 

“I…am amenable to that.” Claude replied, he leaned down. 

Claude, though firmly introverted, had received Some physical affection in his troubled lifetime. Mostly as an aspirant from his close battle brothers. And ironically with his Primaris brother's busy schedules these days he received quite a bit from Khopesh and the other Night Lords. 

Anrir was a good shoulder to lean on. Karlsor would allow it if he was psychery drained though he pretended not to enjoy it. Khopesh naturally enjoyed spooking him with a sudden grab out of nowhere, sometimes lifting him up for a moment. Which was annoying, but the embrace itself wasn't Terrible and the hair ruffling that followed was…a bit childish but not unwelcome. Ghosk would also hair ruffle from time to time. 

But admittedly…being hugged by a Baseline was Far different. He thought, as Lullaby's much smaller body fit into his. And he was careful not to exert too much force. 

For one they were Warm! Very Warm! Almost too much so. And despite picking up the scent of the sterile hospital environment there was a well set scent underneath that reminded him of soil baked under the sun and animals. 

He could always hear their heartbeat, but he also felt it now. And he felt them squeeze him firmly with their much weaker arms. It was a combination of soothing sensations Claude could easily see himself falling asleep to. 

No wonder Khopesh called them Lullaby. 

They pulled back after the firm but brief embrace. And naturally Claude allowed them. He did miss the warmth a bit. Maybe it was a Nightlord or Raven (or Teal) thing to run colder. He didn't notice large temperature differences with most other Astartes of those kinds. 

Knock knock knock 

The knock at the door behind you caused both of you to turn your heads. 

“Who is it?” You ask. 

“It's Apothecary Hura dear. May I come in? We've received your items and some guests are here to see you.” 

Your heart leaps into your throat. Is Khopesh back? Will you get to see him now? You feel excitement mixed with churning anxiety rocket up your body for a moment. 

But wait guest(s)? Plural? “Ah please come on in!” You say hurriedly and naturally the Death Guard on the other side opens the door. 

Instead of a 8 to 9ft tall pale ghoulishly handsome Nightlord…your heart leaps again to see two Very familiar faces standing beside Hura with a box. 

“MOM! DAD!” You bolt to your parents without thinking.

“Lullybird!” “Bear bear!” They respond almost in unison. Your dad holds out the box to you. 

“I ran into that ‘friend’ you'd sent to get these things.” He winks cheekily at you which causes you to blush. “He had to go check on Nancy and Gary, so he sent me on my way so you could have these sooner.”

“Your father told me, your ‘friend’ would also be along later, after he made sure Nancy and Gary were alright.” Your mother supplied. 

Oh…well, while you were disappointed you wouldn't be able to see Khopesh for a bit longer, you couldn't blame him for needing to check on his folks. 

I mean how could you? Right now you had your own parents in front of you (talking about knowing your special ‘friend’. Wait does that mean they know you and Khopesh are- You know what you're not gonna think about that right now.) and wanted to hug them so tight and Never let go. Speaking of which…

You take the box properly but quickly set it aside, before snagging both your parents into an embrace, one arm each. “I'm…I'm so happy to see you both you have N-no Idea!” You felt like crying. You felt like laughing. But you settled on sniffling a bit and hugging your loved ones close. 

“Oh Lullybird.” Your mother cooed, wrapping her own arms around you, returning your firm embrace. 

“We're here now Bear,” You father reassured, stroking your back like he'd done when he soothed you as a baby. 

Meanwhile Claude and Hura watch the tender scene. Hura feels both content satisfaction and a bit of longing. He could imagine a similar scene playing out with his Mouse if they could ever produce offspring…unlikely as that is to be possible with his chaos genes. 

Claude also feels happy. Glad to see Lullaby looking happier than they had been. (And also secretly a Little jealous that he'd not had a normal family experience.)

You do pull back eventually and ask, “How much have Hura and Anrir filled you in?”

Your mother and father exchange a look. “Apothecary Hura explained the basics once we were out of the main areas. Something about a mutated bond?” Your mother replies. 

You nodded. “Yeah…something's changed about it. The Astartes here want to make sure the change isn't harmful.” You add, then turn back towards Claude. “Claude here's the one who found out about it. Without him it might've gone on and caused problems later.” You say, gesturing to the Primaris in the room behind you. 

Claude feels an embarrassed blush creep up his face at being put on the spot. “Ah it was r-really more of an accident.”

Lullaby's mother approaches him, “Accident or not you helped our baby. Thank you so…So much young man.” She gestures for him to lower his face and she gives him a quick motherly smooch on the cheek. 

Lullaby's father approaches next. “My wife is correct. You've done us a great service son. You have no idea how much we owe you.” The gentleman holds out his hand and though Claude is still surprised from the cheek kiss, he remembers this time to hold out his own hand. 

So it's still surprising when the older baseline pulls him (more like pulls himself towards Claude but still) into a quick one armed hug while also still doing the handshake and Holy Stars Lullaby's father runs even hotter than they do. 

His hand is starting to sweat, and he Is getting a bit overwhelmed but thankfully the contact is short. 

He now understands where Lullaby gets it from. But pushing that aside the family continues to talk. 

“So what comes next?”

“Apothecary Anrir and Hura are testing me…testing It rather. Seeing how it works.” You explain. “They haven't found anything super harmful about it…yet. What comes next depends on their best ideas on where to go.”

“Indeed.” An old regal voice agrees, you see Claude perk up out of your peripheral vision and You recognize it too. Anrir steps through the threshold, How had you not noticed him behind Hura?? 

He addresses your parents. “Greetings, I am Apothecary Anrir, of the Nightlords.”

Your parents react…a little less warmly to Anrir then they did to Claude. But they do respond Politely at least. “Ah hello.” “Hello sir.”

“Your dear child is correct. This…phenomenon is the first of its kind any of us have witnessed.” Anrir continues. “Their bond, went through the normal path of withering and desiccation after it was…rejected.” Anrir explained, and seemed to feel the discomfort slightly spike in the room when referring to your…bond breaking. “It was simply doing so at a much slower rate than normal, however, Now it has taken on a completely new form. And with new side effects.”

“What are the side effects?” Your mother asks. 

Anrir pauses, seemingly thinking over his next words. But rather than an explanation, he puts forth an offer. “I believe a demonstration would be most appropriate to explain the Nature of this mutation. If you would all follow me.”

Hura seems confused by Anrir's actions and stops the Nightlord. They have an exchange in Gothic. Hura seems upset for a moment, but after a few back and forth retorts he sighs…Heavily, and steps to the side. 

You stay where you are. “What do you mean a demonstration?” You pry, preferring not to be led by the nose. Even by someone who Is and Has been helping you. 

Anrir smiles. “You said you wanted to be a Useful Parasite did you not? A parasite that helps?” He presents your own words back at you. 

I mean are you really surprised the solitary room has surveillance? They'd have to be watching and listening for that to work but you still feel embarrassed. 

Anrir continues. “I believe an opportunity has presented itself so that we may see if that is possible. Of course your parents and Claude may accompany you, just not Inside the testing room.”

You feel even more in the lurch, but… “You think…I can help someone. Right now?” You ask, half incredulous, half hopeful. 

Anrir nods. “Indeed I do but of course…as a medical professional I can only present Options, I cannot Force you to undergo any tests.”

Your parents look to you for your reaction. You have a feeling with Anrir that line about force is just Slightly bullshit. But…you also Do want to help. You want to Understand. 

You want to be useful. 

You square your shoulders, and stride up to Anrir. “Show me how I can help.”

The Nightlord smiles in a way that you think is meant to be reassuring but comes off unsettling…or maybe that's your nerves distorting your view. 

“Excellent, now without further delay.” He responds, giving a slightly smug look towards Hura. “If you would all follow me.”

_____________________

Slam! The door to the house shook as Khopesh bolted inside, much like earlier. 

Though instead of delight and excitement he was filled with dread and anticipation.

He scanned his eyes around as if he was scoping a battle ground quickly; side door, living room, step over barking chihuahuas, kitchen, Muti shuffling through mail…

“MUTI!” Khopesh called out, a bit louder than he intended which caused his Muti to startle a bit. 

“Oh hey Baby what's-EEP!” The older southern woman didn't have time to finish her statement as Khopesh crossed the distance in a second. Quickly checking her for any injuries with eyes and hands like he would an ally in battle. 

But...Nothing, nothing was wrong. He came here for Nothing! Khopesh felt his hands come up and clench into his long dark hair. 

It wasn't nothing you felt your bond react. It could have waited till after you checked on Lullaby. Lullaby has Their vada and muti by now they don't Need you. Is Lullaby suddenly more important than your bond? You can love both! THEY'LL BE TAKEN AND IT’S ALL YOUR FAU-

“Baby?” Khopesh breaks from his spiraling, when his Muti puts a soft hand on his face. He realizes his long nails were digging into his scalp hard enough that it probably left some shallow cuts. 

He looks into his Muti's eyes. He sees her warmth, the love he'd been denied all his existence, finally willingly given which is what led him to stay in the first place. “What's wrong? You know you can tell me baby.”

After everything…the pain…the stress…the uncertainty…he couldn't hold it anymore. 

Khopesh breaks.

The proud, frightening, cocky, self assured shock trooper of the imperium collapses to his knees, wrapping his arms around the mortal woman's waist and Weeps. 

“Ooooh, com'ere sweetie,” Nancy cooed, still confused but easily switching into comfort mode. Her large adopted son was Clearly dealing with something he had no idea how to cope with. Which is somewhat concerning, given how capable her Khopesh is normally. But she'd weather it with him regardless. “Let it all out baby.” She gently strokes his hair to his back as Khopesh continues to sob. 

“There there, do you wanna talk about it?”

Khopesh sniffs and hiccups, shaking his head as he continues to cry into Nancy's shoulder. “I-I c-can't! I can't tell you!”

Before Nancy can ask why Khopesh continues. “Nothing is going the way it should be! Why is everything going wrong!”

“Can you…explain what's going wrong?” Nancy asks tentatively. 

Khopesh's head shakes again. “I…I can't tell you…everything in detail.”

“Then tell me what you can, my son,” Nancy says gently petting her son’s hair, holding him close to her as he sobs and breaks down.

And so Khopesh does; carefully omitting the full nature of the classified information. He tells his Muti about how Lullaby and him had Finally gotten together. 

“About time. I was worried I'd lose the bet.” His mother chuckled as his tremors and sobbing eased. 

He told her about how they'd spent the day and Night together (not in detail thank God), how they'd shared their first meal together, how everything felt so…So Good. 

And then how it all came crashing down. “Now they have to stay at the base. I cannot Touch them. I cannot Comfort them. I'm…” And that's when it hits, the full realization of the fear that's been eating him alive. “I'm terrified they'll be taken from me and I'll never see them Again!”

Just like psychers had been in his days serving the imperium. 

That bleak set of memories was interrupted by his muti gently brushing her fingers through his hair. He turned his gaze to the mortal woman who held so much of his heart. While another piece of it sat where he couldn't reach it. 

“Life is never just an easy ride down the hill. And that's especially true when you love somethin or someone a whole heck of a lot.” Nancy exposits gently. “But as long as you both take care of each other, you can weather any storm that comes,” Nancy says after listening to what he says.

Khopesh understands what his Muti is saying. He hopes she can give him more clarity on other things too. He wipes his face free of tears and asks, “How did you and Vada meet, Muti?”

Nancy smiles, as she recalls when she first met her husband, “Well I first met him when we were both at college.”

“I remember how fiery you were,” His Vada suddenly walks into the kitchen chiming in. He must have overheard their conversation and was letting them work through some of it before joining. “The sass you had!”

“Oh- like you didn’t give as good as you got, Mister!” Nancy retorts, a faux-stern look on her face.

“I remember, when we lived in separate apartments, on the same floor.” His Vada says, “And you started cooking your Pot Roast- god, everyone on the floor could smell how good it was. So I wiped up a batch of quick-biscuits and knocked on your door, a hot plate of biscuits in hand, and hope in my heart.”

“Ah- I remember that,” Nancy replied fondly, pressing a kiss to her husband’s face. “And we kept trading food. I remember that smoked pork you gave me half a pound of it.”

“And you turned it into hot bagel sandwiches and gave me the tupperware container back with the bagel sandwich,” His vada replies with a dreamy sigh, “Gods, I kept trying to get better at cooking to share with you, just to see how you’d turn it into something better and we’d share the food together.”

Khopesh marvels at the sweetness before him, but part of him is also confused. “Wait…so neither of you promised the other protection or shelter in exchange for company?”

Both his Vada and Muti give him a quite confused look. “Ah…no son. Can't say I ever did that.” Gary replies, scratching the back of his neck. “I Did give you my umbrella that one time you were running late for class I think. Whatever happened to it by the way?”

“Oooh ah…when the rain stopped I think I…accidentally left it inside one of the classrooms.” Nancy replied sheepishly. 

“Nanc!” Gary gasps with mock disbelief. 

“I wasn't used to carrying one around! Gar gar!”

Khopesh looks on the scene and feels a…bit better- that he hasn’t made any major missteps that would fuck up his chances with Lullaby. And he relaxes a little. He had listened to the stories that his parents had shared about their life together- and how they had built it together. It makes him feel… warm. Soft? In a way that he struggles to identify. It wasn’t a bad feeling though. Just- warm all over.

And he is firm in his conviction now. He wants to share that warmth with his Lullaby. Khopesh gives his Vada and Muti a hug, “I’m going to return later.”

“We’ll be here,” They both say giving him hugs, one pressing a kiss on each side of his face.

_____________________

Anrir, with a still hesitant looking Hura following after, moves smoothly along the hallway. Followed by you, your parents, and Claude. Claude looks at you with a concerned, and confused expression on his face as he follows after them, curious to see what the next test was, and he hadn’t been told he couldn’t watch. Not by the Apothecaries, nor by you.

Claude’s head snaps up and he shifts you and your parents behind him protectively, as he hears the sound of a thrashing, howling marine in agony. You clamber to see what's causing the noise and gasp when your peeking around Claude’s large form reveals a familiar marine beyond the glass of an operating room. 

He's even still dressed in the smart dark green uniform you'd seen him in not 24 hours ago. 

“Dear God,” Your mother mumbles in horror. “What on earth?” Your father says in a similar tone. 

“Pyrus?” You murmur confused, “but just hours ago, he was Fine!?”

“What’s wrong with him?” Claude asks in alarm.

Anrir turns to look at them, a neutral- yet expectant look on his face as he explains the situation, “Pyrus was struck by an Intense bond.”

“Oh no,” Claude murmurs with a wince, those bonds can drive a Brother or cousin mad if they aren’t careful.

“The human Rejected him,” Hura continues to say as he heads over to the window of the suffering Salamander, who keeps sobbing, and writhing in the bed. Trapped and blubbering in a mixture of High Gothic and Nocturna.

“This could kill him, if something isn’t done about it,” Claude says, teal and black eyes wide with concern. He doesn’t want his friend to suffer a horrific death. “Or something worse.”

“Normally,” Anrir says, “We would have to wait out and hope that the bond breaking isn't strong enough to strangle the life out of Pyrus- and bleed his soul into… the afterlife.”

“It is not the most common thing, normally the way an intense bond kills is the spiritual strangling causing the marine to act erratic and eventually injure themselves fatally. But sometimes the bond itself back firing is enough to kill.” Hura explains as he moves, giving you a less obstructed view. 

Even Pyrus's head and jaw is restrained, probably to keep him from biting his own tongue. The sight and thought makes you nauseous. 

“But…with the odd mutation You have my dear, You might be able to help Pyrus,” Anrir says looking towards you with a curious, expectant expression on his face, “Of course- it’s your choice on what you decide you want to do.”

You look at the suffering marine again, but your mind is already made, despite your parents unsure muttering. “It's worth a shot.” You say, simple but firm. Poor Pyrus- he’s clearly in a lot of pain, and you wanted a way to help. 

“Are you Sure Lullybird?” Your mother asks. Always the more overprotective of your two parents. 

You turn to her and give a small smile. “I want to understand this…part of me. And I want to help.” You nodded. 

“There will also be three Astartes in the room supervising; Myself, Apothecary Hura and Karlsor.”

You father nods. “Alright…but If you let my child get hurt…” 

Anrir isn't offended, he smiles as he replies. “I know Exactly what you would try to do to me. I would do the same.”

“Oh hohoho there will be no Try,” Your mother assures. “We Will, make it happen.”

Your smile turns wry. “I'd believe her if I were you, Doc.”

While you and Anrir discuss how the entry and application of your abilities will work, a message comes to Claude's vox. The young marine glances down.

“What is it?” Hura asks in Gothic.

Claude responds in the same, understanding the unspoken request. “It's Khopesh, he's just returned.”

“I’m going to speak with Khopesh,” Hura says still in Gothic as he leaves the room, he doesn’t approve of using a Baseline for something so potentially dangerous.

Besides, with so many unknowns with what they don’t know about what Lullaby can do, it worries him that this could go poorly. Hura finds Khopesh, who looked a little more steady when he’d last talked to the younger Space Marine.

“Khopesh,” He calls out, “I need to speak with you privately.”

“Of course, Hura,” Khopesh says. “What’s going on?”

After they get somewhere private Hura explains, “Lullaby is being led to a room with an Astarte who’s Intense Bond was recently Rejected.”

“You mean a dangerous Astarte,” Khopesh amends, he’s somewhat appalled that Hura is telling him this -that he’s allowing this. “What if the Astarte hurts them!?”

“I didn’t want to do this test,” Hura says, “But Anrir insisted that we ask Lullaby if they were willing to help or not.”

“And they wanted to help,” Khopesh says, slumping a little.

“Yes.” Hura replies.

“Which room is my Lullaby in?” Khopesh asks of Hura, a scowl on his face.

Hura pauses, but tells him which room Pyrus is in. He sent a message to Anrir- who sent a message to Cedric. Khopesh is close to the room, when Cedric blocks him, as Hura, Anrir, Karlsor and Lullaby have just entered the room with Pyrus. 

“Khopesh!” Your parents seem surprised to see the Nightlord suddenly appear. 

And to see him look so furious and determined.

“Wait,” Cedric calls out to Khopesh and body blocks him from the door, “the treatment has started- and it might not be a good idea for you to go into the room until Karlsor and Anrir or Hura say it’s safe for you to go into it.”

“It will not be safe for Any of you, (except my Lullaby's family and Claude), if you do not Let Me Through!” Khopesh snarls. “If Lullaby wants to do this, Fine. But I will not take being unable to help them lying down!”

“I'm under orders to not let Anyone else into the room. If I have to, I Will sedate you!” Cedric replies. “You're helping more being out Here as an extra line of defense.”

While Cedric deals with a very protective Nightlord, you (unaware of Khopesh's return) stare down at the thrashing Marine- he looks to be in a lot of pain, you…don’t know what to do. 

You turn to Anrir who is also having Karlsor prepare for a warp examination of what’s going on. 

“Do I just…touch him- Ah!” You ask them to recoil as another fit of thrashing occurs. 

Hura tries to stabilize the movements, while Anrir responds. “Just do Exactly what you've done before.” He says, he then puts a hand on your shoulder again. “And remember, We are With You.” 

Looking into those dark eyes you actually feel comforted. So you take a deep breath, square your shoulders, and step to the table again. You decide Pyrus's shoulder or arm would be a good option. Hand holding could get your fingers crushed, and the face could get them bitten off. 

Gently, as the downed marine huffs quick pained breaths with large tear tracks still marking his face, you lay your hands on Pyrus's huge bare forearm and try to get him to talk. 

“Woah, there big fella it's…it's okay. It's going to be okay. Woah now….” Okay you're talking to him like you would a horse, but he seems to be hearing you. 

Meanwhile Karlsor watches the way the mycelium tendrils start to curl onto Pyrus. Just like with Hura they beeline for the vines, and start to sap at the ragged edge of the broken Intense bond. Pyrus is still overwhelmed and in pain. He looks up at you and chokes out in the local language, “I… am sorry that you have to see me like this.”

You take a moment to respond. “You shouldn't feel ashamed of something that isn’t your fault.”

Pyrus responds, shaking his head a little, as tears fall down his face, “but it was though.”

“What do you mean?” You ask, trying to keep him talking but also legitimately curious. 

“I was too abrupt, too brash.” Pyrus replies, his voice breaking a little, as tears fall freely down his face, as he whispers in shame, “I chased my potential bond away, this pain must be my punishment.”

You didn't agree. “Being rejected…it hurts. But it does Not mean you were too bad…or even too Good. It just Is.” You object, shaking your head a little as you take in a deep breath and continue to speak, “I don't know why your bonded did what they did but…I know that it doesn't mean You are any lesser. And I Know for a fact no one deserves to go through this.”

As they speak these words, Pyrus seems to calm down, and the agonizing, soul deep pain that is tearing him apart slowly eases. The words that you have spoken, ring something strong and deep within both of you.

Karlsor watches as the strangling vines and thorns that were carving into Pyrus and having his soul bleed and suffocate were slowly shrinking and withering, releasing their grasp on Pyrus until they resemble a more normal broken bond.

As that happens, he sees that Lullaby's mutated bond in turn grows a little brighter with the addition of the power it just absorbed. 

You still can't see Any of this happening but you Do notice a sudden uptick in your energy; like getting a direct injection of caffeine. Are your hands trembling? You're pretty sure they're trembling.  

Anrir calls out, “Lullaby, please back away from Pyrus- so I can examine him.”

You nod and step back. You feel- really good. You'd been tired and kinda numb before, but now you feel like you can do almost anything! Anrir checks over and Pyrus tells him, “Your vitals are back to normal. How do you feel?”

Pyrus pauses and takes stock of himself and licks his lips and, “I still feel emotionally drained but no longer in agony.”

“That’s a lot better than you were before,” Anrir says pleased.

“Yes! That's amazing!” You cheer, pumping your fist like you just won a war! 

Anrir turns to look at them, eyeing them carefully and asks them, “How do you feel?”

“I feel…pretty fricken awesome! I mean!! I just helped save somebody's life! Also I feel like running, or dancing to music or just going outside and doing cartwheels on the lawn Also can somebody stop my hands from shaking, cause they're Really shaking-”, You take in a deep breath and closes their eyes as you take stock of yourself and say with a note surprise, “I also feel…good. Hopeful. I think what I'm feeling is Hopeful. That's good right?” You ask, mostly joking.

Anrir nods. “That is most certainly a Good thing.” You smile. 

Before the room can settle into full content, there's a knock on the door. Hura peaks out and a pleased expression appears on his face as he calls out, “Pyrus? You have a visitor.”

“Oh? Let them in,” Pyrus says as he shifts a little in the med bed, unfortunately, still tied down as he looks at the door to see who it was. His eyes widen as he recognizes the human who’s in the doorway looking painfully self conscious.

“Ah…hello,” They address those in the room they hadn't met including you. “My name is Saytr. I…called emergency services when Pyrus collapsed.”

Wait does that mean this human was. Oh…Oooooh…

Saytr turns more fully to Pyrus and addresses him. “I…wanted to say…I'm sorry. I got scared. When you first approached me for a-a Bond.”

Pyrus winces and looks down and away from them at that, he hadn’t meant to scare them like that. Satyr speaks up again, “I've been thinking over my decision. And- when I saw that you collapsed. You looked so- badly hurt. I…. I realized that I’d let my fear make the decision for me.”

Pyrus peers up at them, his ember red eyes sparkling with fragile hope and caution at the same time. Satyr comes into the room and paces a little bit as they take in a deep breath and says, “I … want to get to know you Pyrus… maybe just save what was essentially a marriage proposal for after we get to know each other, yeah?”

Pyrus gives them a big, bright smile and nods, “I can do that. I really do want to get to know you.”

Karlsor can’t help but groan a little as blood trickles down his nose and eyes. He’s got a massive fucking headache. As he’s been using Warp Sight for far too often. Also this sappy fucking bull shit is making him want to throw up.

Anrir turns to his fellow Night Lord, “Karlsor- look at the two newly Bonded, well, Rebonded.”

“I’m really fucking tired, Anrir!” Karlsor snaps, “And bleeding, and headachy.”

“Do it,” Anrir orders, his voice deepening.

“Fucking- fine,” Karlsor hisses, and switches on his Sight and sways dangerously, as he leans against a the far wall. “The bond has come back- all glowing with sparking plant life and fewer thorns.”

Wait a minute. “Karlsor! Say that again.” You demand striding up to the Nightlord with the bleeding nose. 

He looks at you incredulously as he's leaned down due to exhaustion. “The bond looks all flowery and shit?”

You feel yourself buzzing! “Do you know what this means!?” You ask excitedly, and impulsively grabbing Karlsor's face with both hands. (Which he surprisingly doesn't bite you for but maybe he's just too taken aback you're being bold enough to grab his face.) “It means even if I Can sap a Bond, it can come back! I don’t have to worry about hurting the Bond that Khopesh already has with his Vada and Muti! I can actually Touch him!” You release Karlsor's face and immediately snag him in a hug around the waist. 

“H-hey! QUIT It Would ya-” Who is still on the back foot, and not sure how to handle your burst of energy. 

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you! I gotta go find Khopesh!” You declare, releasing a still Very confused Karlsor. “Hang on sweetness! I'm comin for ya!” You charge out the door like a soldier on a mission from God!

You bolt out the door and start sprinting down the hallway, firmly intending to run! Run! Run! Run! RUN! AND FIND YOUR KHOPE-OOf!

You almost fall ass over teakettle as a firm forearm? Came into your path, and damn near knocked the wind out of you. You see the pale color with blue viens and immediately assume it's Claude. 

“Claude lemme go! I gotta go find Khopesh and tell him everything's alright!”

“Um…Lullaby?” You whip your head around at the familiar voice…that Wasn't Claude. 

Long dark hair? Check. 

Scar across the mouth? Check 

Mirthful (if a bit tired and unsure) twinkling dark eyes?

Check!

“Khopesh!” You crow joyfully, shifting so you can pull your Nightlord into a tight embrace. 

“Oh! Lullaby! My Lullaby!” He returns full of relief and delight and you feel your own delight skyrocket when he pulls you close and you feel his roaring purrs start up. 

You nuzzle and snuggle and press quick sweet kisses to the side of Khopesh's face and his lips in between saying,“I missed you! I missed you So Much!” 

You put your hands to the sides of Khopesh's face as he lifts you, holding you up around the waist. “My bond isn't dangerous! I can touch you! I can touch you!” You cry out with joy. Then another realization, with your voice momentarily taking on a Slight sultry edge. “And I can Love you up…as much as you want me to…”

Khopesh's beautiful face takes on a blush that makes your heart Melt. But he also looks a biiiit embarrassed. 

And you realize why when you look past Khopesh's head…and see your parents and Claude looking at your and Khopesh's -ahem- Affectionate exchange. 

Well if they didn't know already, they sure do now…shit. 

“Oh ah…Hi mom…dad.” You greet your parents. “So ah…the test went…pretty well.” Khopesh gently sets you down, but keeps an arm around you.

You understand. You don't want to lessen the contact between the two of you right now. You have your arm resting on his lower back.

“So…you two Really are?” Your mother poses, and you feel a small amount of traitorous Shame creeping into your gut. 

But after Everything you've been through, you are Not letting Khopesh slip away. “I'm happy mom. He makes me happy.” You affirm, looking into Khopesh's dark eyes, before meeting your parents' gaze. 

Your father seems to be waiting on your mother's response, he wraps his arm around her shoulders. 

She sighs, and leans into your father's touch, before opening her eyes again. 

“Alright.” She finally says. 

“Alright?”

“Alright.” She nods. “If he makes you happy, and treats you well…I have nothing to say.”

“...Mom!” You cry with happiness reaching out and leaving Khopesh for just a moment. So you can hug your parents tightly. 

Khopesh misses your touch, but he can be patient; especially for this. 

“But if he hurts you I will Kill him, and dump his body in the fields.” Your mother adds. 

“Mom!” You reply, with only half shock. 

“You'd better trust her Bear.” Your dad replies with a twinkle in his eyes. 

“Oh trust me I do.” You assure your father, before returning to Khopesh's embrace. 

Claude watches the tender moment between all four of you with a smile, as Anrir, Hura and Karlsor exit the testing room. 

“Oh fuckin Greeeeeat, they're back together.” Karlsor grouses, as he adjusts his shades. 

A look of confusion passes over Claude's face. “Are you not glad we achieved a decent outcome?” He asks the older Nightlord. 

Karlsor groans. “Tch, yeah sure I'm fuckin glad or whatever. Woo-hoo everybody's happy and in fuckin Love! But do they have to be so fuckin saccharine about it??”

Claude smiles awkwardly. “Oh I don't know, I find it rather cute.”

Karlsor looks back at the happy little family and his lovesick battle brother. “Yeah…whatever, at least my headache's fuckin died down.”

“Language, Karlsor.”

“Ack!” Karlsor yelped as Anrir suddenly  joined the conversation him, and Claude were having. “Fuckin! … I'm not gonna finish that sentence.” Karlsor decides as Anrir gives him a Look. 

Anrir strides to You and your family. You note how Khopesh's arm becomes just Slightly tighter upon seeing the Nightlord Apothecary. 

“Anrir,” Khopesh says, not full of vitriol this time but…not entirely friendly either. 

Anrir acknowledges his son. “Khopesh…I am glad to see you have returned.”

Khopesh's grip doesn't lessen. “My Lullaby has told me their bond is not dangerous.”

“Not Quite.” Anrir responds. “But at this time it doesn't appear to pose a permanent threat to any bonds.” Anrir clarifies. “However…”

You suck in a breath, gripping Khopesh back. 

“I believe this phenomenon will require further study. In fact, I believe Lullaby may be able to learn to Harness this ability, so they can control it. Rather than simply using it passively through touch.” Anrir explains. 

Well…that doesn't sound too bad. But Khopesh doesn't relax. 

“And this control…how will they be taught to achieve it?” He asks, tamping down on a growl in his throat. 

Anrir straightens his posture. “As any psychery inclined battle brother would be.” He says. “They will be monitored and trained by limited and trusted individuals Here at Gannett Point.”

“Oh, OoOoh!” Khopesh lets out a sigh of Intense relief. You finally feel his posture relax. “That…that makes sense…”

Anrir raises an eyebrow. “Khopesh…did you think I would send them…elsewhere?”

The Nightlord holding you bites his lip, but doesn't respond. 

“Khopesh,” Anrir half laughs in disbelief, before swapping to Nostraman. “Where in the stars would I send them?? We don't exactly have an imperium of training worlds to choose from.”

“Ah…right. I just…I remembered how it was when psychers were found…in my time…” Khopesh replies, sheepish in Nostraman. “But they will be Here. They can stay Here?”.

“They will need to stay here.” Anrir confirms, swapping back to the local language so you and your parents can understand. “At Minimum for tonight as I want to monitor their status after the test.”

“I mean…I'm fine staying the night, but my job and my mom need me. I can't just up and leave.” You protest slightly. 

Anrir does pause at that, seemingly thinking it over. His eyes glance back at Hura, who is also listening to the conversation. “You'll no doubt need training. We will work out an arrangement at a later time so you may help your family.” He states. “As for your job, as a participant of a scientific study you can be compensated. This way we can counteract any reduction in hours or extra travel you undertake.”

“Naturally, we would prefer your lodging to be at the base, but if you'd prefer commuting we can accommodate.” Anrir acquiesced. “If you are to ever change your mind we can set you up with a room.”

“You could stay in mine!” Khopesh cooes excitedly. 

While a permanent bunk was a bit of a step, you couldn't deny the thought of sharing a bed with Khopesh again was enticing. 

Especially with how tired and lonely and drained this whole roller coaster of events had left you. 

“Right now…resting next to you sounds like the Best compensation for…everything…” You agree, leaning on your precious Nightlord. 

Anrir chimes in. “I'm afraid I'll have to insist you stay in the observation room. We must be able to monitor you for any changes.” 

“Aw really?” Khopesh groans with disappointment. 

Anrir held up a hand. “You may share the space. Provided there are no objections.”

“The space won't be too bright for you will it?” You ask Khopesh. 

“My darling, I would brave a solar flare for you!” Khopesh declared with a dramatic flare that made you giggle. “Besides…the hospital rooms can be dimmed, you know this don't you Lullaby?”

Now it was your turn to look embarrassed. “Ah…now I do?”

“Pftt-Hahahahaha!” Khopesh let out his trademark cackle. You honestly didn't think you'd ever thought it sounded sweeter. 

You brought your hand up, gently placing it on the side of his face. “Let's go to bed Khopesh. I want to hold you.”

You feel the purring come again, Khopesh nuzzles into your hand. “Of course, my Lullaby…let us retire for the evening.” He agreed, pointedly ignoring Karlsor making a blech face in his peripheral.

“Sounds like you two have everything planned out.” Your mother chimes in.

“Don't forget, if you need us we're just a call away.” Your father reminds you. 

“I know. Thank you guys so So much.” You say, feeling tears starting to well up. You bring your parents into another embrace. 

“I love you both…I'll be home as soon as I'm able.” You promise, giving both your parents a kiss on the cheek. 

Your folks then turn to Khopesh. “I meant what I said.” Your mother vows. 

“Hey! Just take good care of our Bear bear, and you've got nothing to worry about.” Your father jokes as well. 

Khopesh brings himself to attention. “I vowed the same to my Vada and Muti. You have my word.” He swore. “I will protect them with all my life, and soul.”

Your parents nod, and with another round of goodbyes and I love yous, they are escorted by Apothecary Hura back to the entrance. Meanwhile, you, Khopesh, Anrir and Claude make your way back to the observation room. 

As you come to the room, you turn back to Claude. “Thanks again for all you've done Claude.”

The short haired primaris blushes, a little less than before. “Ah well…I was just trying to do right by Khopesh.”

“And you did so in Spades, little brother!” Khopesh cheers, slapping his brother on the shoulder. 

“Indeed,” Anrir agrees. “You should be proud Claude, you have been an invaluable help. I'm sure Karlsor is grateful to have another Psycher to aid in warp examinations.”

Karlsor rolls his eyes and grumbles but doesn't disagree. 

Anrir shows you where and how the dimmer switch works, before he and the other Night Lords depart. (You do give Claude one more hug.) Then you pick up the box of items your parents had dropped off earlier; glancing inside you feel your chest blossom with warmth. 

Seems your folks hadn't forgotten your previous hospital stays. There were fresh clothes and your dental care items; as well as the items you'd actually remembered to request. 

But before you get changed. “Hey! If anybody is listening, turn around so I can change!” You call out. 

Khopesh comes up behind you, resting his head upon yours. You'd never get tired of his purrs. 

“Hmmm, I need a little more space sweetness.” You coo, shifting to remove your shirt, Khopesh responds by nibbling a little on your ear a little, but he does back up enough.

You realize he's acting as a barrier. He might know where the survelliance viewpoint is. “Thanks cutie,” You wink, and finish changing. 

You brush your teeth in the room's sink. And place your possessions as you like them on the bed. Once done, you clamber up, and snuggle beneath the covers. 

It is a decently large bed after all, made for a good range of astarte sizes. Comfortable for both of you. 

Khopesh sets the lights to his preference, hence why you got on the bed first as to not be clanking around in the dark. And it is very dark. You can't see a thing besides a slight glow from where your phone is face down charging. 

The dark shifts, you feel different parts of the bed dip with weight, you feel a familiar breath drift over your lips.

“Mmm,” You don't hesitate to follow that breath back to the lips it came from. This kiss wasn't like the exuberant ones you'd given before. This one was…deeper…more sensual. You move gently, and Khopesh does the same, pressing close so you have more contact. 

Nose to nose, forehead to forehead. 

“I've missed this…so badly my Lullaby.” His voice fans out in another soft breath. 

“I've missed you too.” You reply. You couldn't show Khopesh the full physical affection you Really wanted to. Not in this room, while being watched. 

But you could lay next to Khopesh as he settled in beside you. You could drape your arm across him and pull yourself to him. And you could feel yourself readily and Quickly lulled to sleep by the sound of his purrs, and the feeling of him running his fingers through your hair and the sound of his two…hearts…

…zzz…

Khopesh smiled, he felt himself drifting as well; to his Lullaby's scent, their gentle breathing, and the sound of their heart…

…zzz…

__________________

Back in his study, Anrir continues to write down and transcribe his recent findings, as well as plans for future tests, possible training exercises, those sorts of things. 

“You know you can go about your evening Karlsor.” Anrir says, noting how his son seems…oddly attached at the moment. Normally once testing was done he'd be on his way to get looked over for psychery pain or handle other duties. 

The foul mouthed Nightlord shifts where he's standing. “I've got a fuckin question.”

Anrir pauses in his writing, the tension in the room feeling thicker. He sets down his stylus. “Of course, what is your quandary?”

“Why'd you let Lullaby argue their way out of fuckin staying so Easily? Doesn't seem like you to be so…easy about something so Security risk-ish.”

Anrir pauses, thinking over his response. “Well there was simply no need to push dear Karlsor.” The older Nightlord replies. “You of all people should know baselines can be…Stubborn. Trying to force them would have made them less cooperative.”

“But by presenting it as a choice, and one that will be present and more appealing as time goes on and commuting and training makes them more affable to it, we've a better chance of achieving the desired result.” Anrir concludes.  

Karlsor nods slowly. “Okay. Makes sense…now my Other fuckin question. Who's supposed to train them?”

“...”

“You gotta be fuckin kidding me!” Karlsor growls. He's got his hands full with the Scouts and barely being able to use his powers period! He doesn't need a baby baseline psycher on Top of that. Fuckin dammit.

“Now now Karlsor, don't be so quick to dismiss.” Anrir chides. “They'll also have physical training days and I will ensure you don't have to oversee those. However…I Believe you may come to appreciate their presence when you train your psychery.”

Karlsor looks confused. “And why's fuckin that?”

“Because even without psychery I noted the improvement in your status After they'd touched you.” Anrir said pointedly. “Did you not find it strange that your warp migraine dissipated so easily? So much Quicker, than it usually does.”

Karlsor takes a moment, he's mildly stunned to realize Anrir is right. “I…You're fuckin right…what the Fuck?”

Anrir smiles, a true Nightlord grin. “I believe our dear little Lullaby could be a great benefit, not just in terms of research but in how psychery may be able to function in the future here.” Anrir's eyes take on a wild quality. “Imagine it! A psychic conduit, able to absorb and redistribute the energy from bonds!”

Karlsor is a bit…overwhelmed by his father's sudden enthusiasm, but he's not stupid. He understands the possible perks. “Uh yeah…I'd definitely appreciate less shit fuck nosebleeds and pain.”

“This is only the beginning of a long road of discovery my dear Karlsor.” Anrir proclaims, turning back to his notes. “And while you are here tell me, what sounds better: a training regime leaning more towards that of a typical Guardsman or perhaps one more akin to a Sister of Battle?”

Karlsor feels some nervous sweat bead on his brow. Lullaby better be ready for the long haul ahead. 

[orquidborgo]

Well, I'm getting a fever and with a lot of ideas, so I'm going to write them here because I don't have anything better to do!

This are concepts/writing ideas I got that I have more or less the story made in my head but I never wrote it down because I don't have the confidence to publish anything (haha self esteem issues are so funny), so here they are:

Jake Muller, professional B.O.Wsitter

* I got this idea while reading a modern fantasy resident evil fanfic (where the wound drips venom from your soul), basically:

After the events of resident evil VI, Jake only accepted jobs that allowed him to fight B.O.W and protect people BUT that didn't get him a lot of money, with Sherry's birthday approaching he is thinking about taking a mercenary jobs that pays very well until he receives a call from Chris Redfield, go to the middle of nowhere in Nebraska(? I'm thinking about changing the location) on a mansion with everything paid to take care of 5 B.O.Ws, just not the way he though he would.

Perfect paintings

* I got this idea from reading a really short story from space marine husbandry (I think it was from @kit-williams, is a story about a custodes, idk I forgot, it was so long ago) but I never got the confidence to write it because I don't think I will write a good mystery piece that'll comply with my expectations:

Detective Arad Yilmaz approached the scene, this is the 4th murder this month, the murders follow a pattern: All of them were strangled to death, had long black hair, honey/light brown eyes, middle eastern heritage and where last seen interacting with a really tall astartes.

The location of the corpses leave a trail as if the murderer have been moving constantly, following the same movement as the chaos warbands path, now with this corpse being found by a Dark Angel the astartes want to take this matter in their own hands.

Will Arad be able to find the murderer, bring them to justice and avoid an all out war between astartes before is too late? The clock is ticking.

There is no home like the one your bonded is:

* After reading Cedric's story in space marine husbandry (I also forgot to say that Cedric belongs to @sleepyfan-blog, sorry) and watching the movie "Bolt" I got thinking, what happens when a space marine grows a bond with a human that lives in another country and is only visiting? So here it is:

Guillermo Testarossa is visiting the U.S.A for his winter vacation, following his aunt's advice to stave off boredom he ventures into the local astartes hospital with his aunt's bonded apothecary. There he meets an injured space wolf, the rest of his vacation he spends it talking and having fun with this astartes but not everything last forever and he has to comeback to his home country Argentina, saying his goodbyes and promising to comeback next year.

Unbeknownst to him, this space wolf will not wait an entire year, using a joke his brother-captain made as motivation, with a camera, a notepad and supplies on his back he embarks on a adventure walking from the U.S to Buenos Aires - Argentina to find his bonded, taking photos and recording everything he encounters in his journey. The only thing he knows is that his bonded lives in San Telmo, works in a coffee shop with private tango shows and studies electronic engineering.

Save us from ourselves

* I seriously need to read Magnus primarch novel because there is no way you are telling me a whole planet of highly trained psykers (this mfs have magic, mind you) with space travel technology didn't have a plan B to evacuate civilians in case of a invasion, and I also like Arknights a LOT so, this is kind of a crossover between 40k and arknights:

Rhode Island is an humanitarian/pharmaceutical organization that travels across space with the mission of saving psykers, protecting those infected with flesh change and find the cure of said illness, right know they have treatment and have developed technology to protect/stabilize psykers with it so they can live a normal life.

Marckus Ahriman is a young 16 year old field operator with signs of mutation and a big heart who wishes for a world where all psykers are free and flesh change is finally cured. In a fateful operation battling against a chaos incursion he finds a soul shard that "calls" to him, upon touching it he remembers: he Magnus the Red, primarch of the Thousand Sons and son of the Emperor of Mankind, or well... A shard of him.

My big... Primarch?: Friendship is Magic (this is a temporary title)

* I watched a few episodes of my little pony so this is a crack fic, don't mind it that much:

During her fight against Starlight Glimmer through timelines; Twilight Sparkle gets "knocked out", but when she wakes up again to try and stop Starlight, she ends up in Magnus's body as a baby. So is basically her dealing with 40k insanity, family issues and trying to go back to her home.

She would try to understand why the other primarchs are so apprehensive of magic and would try to befriend them: She would try and not use magic in front of Mortarion after knowing his trauma and help him through it the best she can, would cure Angron of his nails, Leman would finally like her because she gets tired of his bullshit and start throwing hands and things like that.

Magnus's regular day

* With how pridefull is Magnus about magic, I'm surprised he hasn't gotten in a lot of psychic shenanigans in "regular show" style, every chapter would be Magnus getting into a crazy adventure, sometimes pulling his brothers, any of his sons or a unfortunate custodes along the ride.

The Emperor, Malcador and Constantin are just... Done with his magical bullshit at some point and just let him be because they know that he'll somehow fix it at the end.

So... Yep. This is all I got.

[kit-williams]

Weight of the Worlds

Thank you for @sleepyfan-blog for letting me use Cedric and @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan for letting me use Ramiel; Roland, Arnault, and Angela are my own ocs;

Husbandry Tag list:

@egrets-not-regrets @liar-anubiass-blog @barn-anon @bleedingichorhearts

@ms--lobotomy @nekotaetae

Summary: Cedric and Ramiel meet Angela (Quilterin) and Backerin

Cedric was bouncing slightly as Arnault and Roland had told him that they were going to meet. Ramiel sighed just looking at his fellow Primaris. "It's nothing to be anxious about."

"I'm not anxious I'm excited! I mean getting time to spend with a future Emperor's Champion and Brother Roland always makes me excited." Cedric says as since meeting the pair he's come out of his shell a bit more.

"Careful to not gloat too much about Arnault's achievements." Ramiel had gotten the distinctive feeling the Arnault does not know his eventual fate.

"Oh there you are." A woman's voice chimes in as they turn to look down at the human female just grinning up at them. "Roland was right you boys are sure big." The woman smelt like bread... she smelt like warmth... she smelt like what Roland kept describing. "I would have brought more bread." She looks up at Ramiel, "But I was told that we'd only be meeting one of you today."

Ramiel felt the heat go to his ears, "I see then I'll excuse-"

"Too late!" She declared grinning up at him as she passes him some bread. "Anyway Cedric I brought some more breads to try with some jams and some other things... if Roland isn't eating most of it... ROLAND!" She barks seeing the older Black Templar with some bread sticking out of his mouth. The Primaris marines were surprised at how sheepish he looked. "Bread Addict!" She said exasperated.

Roland walked over holding a large, now opened, container of treats from her shop, "Hallo Ramiel! I thought you were busy today?" Roland says trying to remember the younger Primaris' schedule.

"That was earlier in the day."

"Ah es tut mir leid then we were going to introduce you to our bonded another day but I suppose it can't be helped."

"Arnault I can carry it." A soft voice says.

"Nein." The distinct voice of Arnault says in a tone much softer than Cedric or Ramiel has heard.

"Why not?"

"Because it is too heavy for you."

"Arnault... you're too heavy for me."

Arnault's chuckle reaches the three causing Roland to roll his eyes as the innuendo is lost upon the younger two marines.

They finally see Arnault's bonded carrying a heavy bag. She had downturned eyes giving her a look that she was tired or perhaps docile and meek would be better descriptions. Her blonde hair was in half curls down to her shoulders as she came up to the middle of Arnault's stomach. Her brown eyes looked at Ramiel with surprise as she looks up at Arnault before he takes the bag and the two finally approach.

"This one is Cedric and this one is Ramiel." Arnault points to each marine.

"Hello." She says softly before pushing the bag Arnault is holding to Cedric. She turns to Ramiel, "I'll get started on yours right away then."

"On what?" Ramiel says while Arnault gets Cedric to open up his gift.

Her gaze turns away from him to Cedric as he looks at the quilted blanket. A large black cross in the center of the off white, patterned, background. "It's weighted. First time doing a weighted quilt but... I think I did a good job." She says smiling at Cedric's owlish look. She looks up at Arnault as he leans over as she whispers something to him.

Roland elbows Cedric, "You going to say something?"

Cedric's ears are red as he realized he was lost in looking it over, "Oh thank you! I'll use it tonight!"

Angela smiles at Cedric before Roland chimes in, "You go put your new blanket in your room and we'll get the food set up for you to try. Ramiel you're free to stay."

"And once meine engel has finished your quilt we will have another day like this for you." Arnault says.

"I look forward to it." Ramiel says with a soft smile.

[silverformymonsters]

Cedric | High Elf | Rogue | Criminal

[cerealmonster15]

TWINS!!!!! more of them. and i put them on art fight.

why did i add nearly 2 new rows of characters good god thats too many THATS TOO MANYYYYYYYYYYY

[sabin1108]

FF14 and DnD OCs: Cedric (FF14 - Dragoon HL Hyur), Fannar (DnD - Sorcerer Dragonborn) and Zuri (DnD - Artificer Human)

A Dragon enthusiast dragoon, Food enthusiast sorcerer and Machine enthusiast artificer

Practicing more art with them :)

[articskele]

If someone were interested in hearing about Cloud and/or your other OCs, is there a tag to look at?

YEAHHH :D!!!!! I have SO MUCH lore and little tidbits of information hidden around in the tags-

If you're looking for Cloud stuff in particular, these three posts should be the most helpful!! (That first one is a bit of an old ref, but it still works!)

And I've put all of my OCs down in the tags for easy access!!

[jesterjamz]

sal has new buddies with them now!

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Second Chances Don't come Twice

Author’s note: Atlas in Husbandry. Thank you to @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow Joth and Cedric.

Summary: Atlas remembers fighting demons on the ship- that had gotten lost in the warp and remembered the pain of getting torn apart by demons. He wakes up, he's in too much pain to be dead... But how is he alive? Where is he? Oh great- a Berserker Chaos Marine- A Khornate World Eater. Welp. He's gonna die. Again. and this time he's not able to move arms or legs. Shit.

Warnings: Let me know if I need to add anything else

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

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @ms--lobotomy , @thevoidscreams, @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

Atlas had been fighting aboard the ship- they had gotten lost in the warp, and their gellar field had partially fallen. He and his brothers had been fighting against the Demonic incursion, trying their best to survive and wrest themselves free of the storm and the demons. 

He had spotted one of his brothers about to get dragged out of the group by some demons and pushed him back deeper into the group. Unfortunately that meant that the demons were able to grab him with their claws and taunting cackling.

He gave as good as he got- his brothers fighting their hardest to free him from their grasp. He saw Catius and Oleandros call out for him- arms outstretched as they tried to reach him.

That thought warmed him- before the unending pain and agony of demons trying to tear him apart had him scream, despite his best efforts not to.

Things go Loud. Things go quiet.

He feels and hears a wet, wrenching sound of bones breaking. A voice- he dimly realizes is his, which he can’t stop hollers out in soul breaking agony.

He hears the cackling of mad gods. He hears the roaring of something golden.

The Pain

A flash of light

A flash of darkness

Unconsciousness

Atlas opens his eyes. That in and of itself causes great confusion. He had been in a pitched battle on the ship. He and his brothers were trying to fight off demons who’d breached the ship. He is surprised to be able to open them again. 

He had thought that the way he’d been caught by the demons that he’d die, horribly brutally in front of his brothers. He is not surprised that he is in complete agony and his many wounds on his body are complaining.

He smells the tang of blood and suffering. His mind fogs and hazes as he stares up at the blue cloudy sky. He frowns a little, the effort to think as he stares at the sky. Sky. He had been on a ship in the warp. This is. This ground he’s laying down upon is ground. He is on a planet.

That  does not make sense. He was on a ship in the Warp. He continues to stare up at the sky and struggle to breath as his thoughts are slow and his brain is full of panicked jabbering half formed thoughts as he’s consumed by the utter agony he’s in.

‘How am I on a planet?’ is a thought that forms in his mind. ‘Is this a trick? An illusion? why?’

He continues to breathe, a task that seems monumental at the moment. Something of a great struggle. He hears the sound of something, and slowly turns his head to look and sees some… animals.

Farm animals started to approach him. Some herbivores that are used for meat, milk, and the fibers of their fur can be used to make clothing and other things.

Some of the creatures with horns bleat at him and one of them boldly comes over and bleats in his face. He flinches a little at the sound. But that movement sends waves of unending agony through him. 

Ow. He shouldn’t have tried moving. That hurt. That had really badly hurt. Part of him wonders if he’ll survive this. Or if he’ll die surrounded by farm animals.

As soon as he thought that part of him recoiled at that thought. While another part of him felt comforted that at least his body will feed the worms and other creatures of a planet, rather than the cackling maddened creatures of the Warp.

He hears more movement and a barking noise- and sees a trio of four legged creatures with fur- guardian dogs as they herded the herbivores away from the Strange Giant Metal Bleeding creature. The oldest of the Guardian canids snuffles and growls and barks and howls.

Atlas merely wishes the creature would stop being so loud. It’s not like he can do anything to get away from the creature. Or harm the canids charges. Oh- his head is ringing from how loud it is.

He hears the tromp and tread of something large headed his way and his hearts sink. He knows the stomp of Ceramite upon many different surfaces. With effort- far too much effort he shifted his head- trying to see who was coming towards him.

He hears a voice rumble out, and his hearts sink further. The dual toned almost staticky sounding tones of a Chaos Marine- the canid, blessedly stops barking and runs towards the Chaos Marine.

Atlas’s hearts sink further- he can’t do anything but watch as the canid heads towards the fuck he’s so fucked. The Khornate Berserker World Eater.

Instead of slaughtering the creature- the Chaos Marine does a gesture and says a phrase- it seems like a coded phrase as it has the trio of canids off to a different part of the … farm that he’s on.

Oh. He’s so fucking dead. Deader than dead. His skull and blood shall be used in a twisted Khornate ritual. And he can’t even put up a fight to try and get away form the Chaos Marine.

He wonders if the Khornate Chaos Marine will kill him, or just sneer down at him and watch as he dies, too weak, to pathetic for the mercy of a quick death.

Joth had heard the Guardian Dogs bay- in that particular way that meant they were trying to scare something, or someone off. And whatever it was, wasn't backing off.

With swift movement he heads in the direction of the dogs- and sees a ceramite covered form- lying on the ground and the iron tang of blood and pain scent the air.

As he comes closer- he realizes the fellow Space Marine- who he had readied to growled at was wearing Ultramarine colors- and was severely wounded and a Baby.

Joth approaches the likely severely hurt, and likely going to be skittish as fuck baby who looked like he was drifting in and out of wakefulness.

The baby manages to squint up at him and try very hilariously to growl at him, but was in too much pain to do that and merely made raspy whimpering noises.

"Not gonna hurt you Scoutling," Joth croons, at the very suspicious and heavily wounded baby. Who- to his credit, attempted to growl at him again.

Joth watched the way the younglings limbs twitch, but not move much. That. could be really bad. He sends a message to the local Astarte clinic about a heavily wounded baby needing immediate help, as well as not being stable enough to move.

He gets a swift response as he crouches down next to the youngster, "I know that you won't believe me, but I am not going to hurt you. Help is coming- some brothers are going to patch you up."

Joth is talking to the baby and grabs one of his hands gently, the baby seems to be hovering between wakefulness and passing out from the pain he's in.

"Keep awake little cousin," Joth rumbles, gently squeezing his hand. He smells the stench of Chaos on his wounds. Poor kid got on the wrong side of a fight with some demons.

Joth's ears prick as he says, "Your brothers are coming- we will get you fixed up, stay awake little Scout."

Zariel and Cedric are running towards them with urgent battle care kits as well as a team with a stretcher just minutes behind him. The Baby Black Templar lets out a growly noise at Joth, before his eyes snap to the blue and gold clad Scout.

"Atlas!" Cedric calls out as he runs to Catius and Oleandros's squad lead and fellow Primaris Ultramarine's side as he and Zariel assess and patch up Atlas.

[sleepyfan-blog]

Autopsy

Author’s Note: 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.  A big thank you to @kit-williams for allowing me to borrow her OC Anrir, and with helping me make sure I wrote Anrir well. 

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

Warnings: autopsy (mention), poor coping skills, physical violence, grief, 

Summary: Cedric and two other Apothecaries in training are putting medical supplies away near where Malachai’s and Lestras’ bodies are being studied. This is fine. He’s fine.

"What... Why would they place that organ there? It makes no sense whatsoever." One of the visiting apothecaries muttered.

"I was told that the mechanicus were in charge of the creation of the Primaris Marines. In the ensuing ten-thousand years after the Heresy, this is what they have come up with." Melinth stated, his voice steady if lilting a little with amusement.

Cedric couldn't quite tell, as their voices were muffled by the wall that separated himself and the two other apothecaries in training from where Lestra’s and Malachai’s bodies were being autopsied. But their voices felt full of mockery and derision to him. He gritted his teeth, continuing to perform the task he had been assigned.

"These organs placements are shit." A third Apothecary spotted "I may still be a traitor in M42, but this... This is utter shit. I can see a glimmer of advancement in the organs themselves... But oh..." He laughed, cruel and vicious.

"Care to share the joke with the rest of us, Anrir?" The first Apothecary prompted, sounding curious.

Cedric willed his hearts to stop pounding in his ears as he tried to breathe out the fury coiling in his chest, ready to strike. He was furious at the fact that one of those callous bastards were laughing at his brothers' bodies.

"It's just... If I informed the Emperor of the advancements that the Mechanicum believes they made to his Astartes' design... His reaction would be hilarious!" Anrir chortled.

Cedric could not take the callous disrespect and mockery that these firstborn bastards were making of his dead brothers. The sound of that fucker’s laughter rang in his head, reminding him of - 

No. He would not allow his mind to wallow in miserable memories that would only make him even more upset. Cedric and two other apprentice Apothecaries had been tasked with restocking this medical supply room as a group. In the past few months, more supplies have been mysteriously vanishing, and one way to try and decrease the possible vanishing supplies problems. He hisses a soft “Bastard!” In response to the continued laughter.

The restless Night Lord Apothecary turned toward him, having clearly heard his words “What was that? I’m pretty sure that box of gauze isn’t an Ork in need of strangling. You can just put it down like a normal person.”

Cedric glared at the Night Lord, a low growl in his voice “Shut up. I can hear them talking about the Brothers they are dissecting.”

The other apothecary in training - a Renegade Space Wolf spoke up “I can hear them too. It sucks that they won’t let any of us even see the bodies to learn the differences between us normal marines and Primaris, but that’s life. ‘Sides, I’ve figured out one difference between Primaris marines and normal marines already.”

“Oh? And what difference would that be?” The Night Lord asked curiously, head titling a little.

“They die like little bitches. LIke, there are what a dozen Primaris marines on ancient terra? And between the two found near this base and the six found dead across Ancient Terra in the past year or so, it doesn’t speak to how well they’re able to survive. Like. It’s really fucking hard to die on Ancient Terra unless you’re doing something stupid.”

… Six other dead Primaris marines? This was the first that Cedric had heard of more dead Primaris marines. Then the rest of the drivel that the Space Wolf had said registered in the Black Templar’s mind. The fury that he’d been struggling to contain boiled over and a red haze filled his vision. 

Cedric blinked once, finding that he’d moved positions from one moment to the next. He had pinned Algret to the floor, his knees on the bastard’s chest, his hands wrapped around the other’s neck as his mouth screamed into the other;s bloodied face and broken nose. Cedric felt his chest heave with the effort of pinning and choking this miserable bastard as his mouth screamed ‘- FUCKING CALLOUS, KIN-KILLING BASTARDS! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE ALL OF YOU! YOU SNEER AND LOOK DOWN ON US! USE US AS CANNON FODDER WHILE SPITTING ON OUR EFFORTS AND CALLING US ABOMINATIONS!” He managed to wrest control of his vocal chords from whatever was screaming through him. His voice was much quieter now but no less furious “See how you like it when you are the one being beaten and tormented over and over again.”

“He-ghk!” Algret called out, struggling futilely beneath him.

Cedric did not see the Night Lord Apothecary, but they were all cowardly ambush predators who fled before a more powerful opponent. His breathing was harsh and fast. HIs hands were still squeezing Algret’s neck hard enough to make breathing difficult for the mouthy bastard. “... You’re not worth the paperwork they’d bury me under to kill you.” With tremendous effort he forced his hands away from the Space Wolf’s neck. He got off of the Space Wolf as well, taking a couple of steps back.

Algret growled back as he heaved himself back up onto his feet, settling into a defensive stance “You want to fight, you unstable piece of shite? You’re on! You’re not going to overcome me nearly so easily, now that I’m aware you’re going to attack me.”

Cedric growled wordlessly, shifting into a defensive stance of his own, about to accept the challenge issued to him.

"And just what do you two think you are doing?" A low and deeply unimpressed voice demanded from the doorway, interrupting the brewing fight.

Cedric swallowed hard, before he turned and saw -

Fuck.

One of the Apothecaries who had been brought in to cut into his dead Brothers, to study the differences between Primaris Marines and Firstborn. He was a Terran-born Night Lord, from the pattern and coloration of his armor.

"I was talking about the dead Primaris Marines, and that it sucked I couldn't get hands-on study of either one of them when this lunatic  attacked me!" Algret whined, glaring at Cedric as he spoke. "He also was screaming about how much he hates firstborn Marines. Whatever the fuck those are."

“... I see.” The Night Lord Apothecary answered, a neutral expression on his face, though it may be a mask. “If firstborn Marines are bad… Surely I am something much worse. After all, I am Terran Born, among part of the first successfully created batches.” He stalked into the room with predatory grace.

Cedric could see the younger Night Lord Apothecary hovering in the hallway outside, but most of his focus was on the laughing bastard in front of him. His phone chirped, and he kept one eye on the advancing Night Lord, as he read through the text that Ramiel sent him. A small, vicious smirk appeared on his face. The other older apothecaries were also in the hallway and could clearly hear him. He rolled his shoulders back and stated “As the highest ranking Black Templar Apothecary within a hundred miles of this base, I am formally revoking your to do anything with the dead bodies of the two Black Templars currently on the surgery tables of this base. I revoke everyone’s privilege to do so, not just yours, Apothecary Anrir.” Cedric paused for a moment, letting this edict sink in before continuing “If any non-Black Templar Apothecary does anything other than stitch their bodies up, it will be a severe violation of the treaty for each of you, with each cut of the scalpel, or adjustment of the retractors. This decision is effective as of now, and will not be overturned. Stitch up their bodies and hand them over to me.”

“YOu gave permission to allow us to autopsy them earlier.” Melinth countered “Additionally, you are merely an Apothecary in training and do not have the ability to order such things to us.”

“I am the highest ranking Black Templar apothecary you can contact easily. If you want to escalate this issue, I will inform the highest ranking Black Templar in residence and you can talk it out with him. The Emperor’s Champion. I will inform him that you are refusing to follow some of the mandates of treaty that has been set forth. I will also inform him that your refusal to release the bodies of both Black Templars, one of whom had been a patient of yours in critical condition, and that he died while in your care.” Cedric growled, stalking towards Melinth. He was keenly aware of what he was unsubtly accusing the other of in public, but he did not care. It was completely within character of Firstborn Marines of M42 to pull shit like this on purpose. Why would they not do the same in M3 if they thought they could get away with it?  “Care that you did not allow me or another Black Templar to monitor while a brother was in such a fragile and vulnerable state. That after you pronounced him dead, while his body was still warm, you demanded I give you permission to cut him apart to satisfy your own curiosity.”

“Are you accusing me of allowing a patient under my care to die to satisfy my own scientific inquisitiveness about how his body worked?” Melinth demanded, actually sounding and looking mildly upset now.

Cedric figured that Melinth was upset most by the potential hit to his reputation Cedric’s accusations may cause, considering the fact that the six visiting Apothecaries were from differing factions and had some influence amongst their chapters/legions. “You’ve said before that you wished that you could take a Primaris Marine’s body apart, to see what the differences are for yourself. It would not surprise me if you… Arranged for that to happen, as you were handed an opportunity to ensure a Primaris Body landed in your morgue.”

“Oh… So the abuse that the both of them suffered is a common thing amongst loyalists in M-42, then. You wouldn’t be accusing another Apothecary of such a crime with such certainty and conviction if you haven’t seen that happen in M42 personally.” Anrir called out, an inscrutable expression on the Night Lord’s face.

His words halted Cedric in his tracks. The emotional impact of his words hit him with the force of an out of control Thunderhawk slamming into the side of a mountain. His gaze switched from Melinth - who was more visibly emotional now (What those emotions might be, Cedric couldn’t begin to guess. Nor was he going to spend the effort to try) - to Anrir. His eyes were burning fiercely and he hated the way he echoed “A… Abuse?” back at the older apothecary. A yawning abyss of horror had opened up within Cedric and had swallowed all of the righteous wrath that had been searing it’s way through his veins.

“Yes. Abuse. The Emperor would be furious about the utter misery that the Mechanicus put you Primaris marines through. You’re some of the most traumatized young marines I’ve ever met. And I’ve worked with Lamenters before. Get over here.” Anrir ordered, his voice going gravelly and commanding - but not in a distressing way, somehow?

Cedric’s idiot, treacherous body obeyed before his mind could halt himself, as he came over to the Night Lord’s side. He stares down at the shorter marine, just barely able to resist the temptation to shuffle backwards and cross his arms defensively over his chest. “What do you want?” Cedric snapped, eyes narrowing.

“I’m going to hug you now. Do not resist, you need one.” Anrir answered, closing the distance between the two of them and wrapping his arms around Cedric, holding him in a moderately restraining embrace. 

Half of Cedric wanted to melt into the embrace and start bawling. The rest of him protested very loudly at such a show of weakness in front of strange firstborn marines, so an angry response it was. He hisses down at the older marine, leaning away from him “How dare you just grab me like this?! Let me go at once you… You-” now was not the time to lose his words, but here he was. Unable to come up with something to say.

Also, Cedric could feel his body start to shake and tremble at the continued gentle touch. His eyes were stinging more fiercely now and he needed to escape if he was to not be seen or heard crying by these fuckwits. He blinked rapidly before the first treacherous tear started to fall, followed by more. SInce the stupid bastard wasn’t letting go, Cedric hid his face in one of the other’s shoulders, his body’s shaking getting worse.

Anrir heaved a dramatic sigh as he hugged Cedric closer, one hand coming up to gently pat his head “Honestly! You’re just as bad as Claude is. I wasn’t laughing at your dead brothers, by the way. I was laughing at the fury that the Emperor would unleash on those machine-worshippers if he learned of what he’s done to all of you. The organ placement within the two Primaris Marines would very likely have shortened their life-spans significantly, had the physical abuse that killed them not taken them then.”

There was one piece of information that was most important to Cedric. The lifespans thing wasn’t something he could deal with, but - “You… You know Claude? You’ve… You’ve seen him cry?” If Claude felt safe enough to cry around Apothecary Anrir… Then Cedric would choose to trust that his brother-cousin was willing to trust Anrir.

The Night Lord sighed again, patting his head once more, still giving him a one-armed hug “Yes, I know Claude.”

“Oh… You must be one of the older brothers he trusts, then.” Claude was one of the most emotionally reserved of all of them for reasons that Cedric was not going to think about right now, as he was trying to calm down. He wiped the tears in his eyes and tried that breathing trick that Miss Angela taught him… Which was startlingly effective. He lets go of the Night Lord, shame burning through him as he took a step away from the other. “I… Thank you, for helping me calm down.”

Anrir hummed a little in response “You scouts have been deeply traumatized. Emotional dysregulation is very common.” He turned and  glared at his fellow experienced Apothecaries “Is there a particular reason why you are gawking? The Scout told you he doesn’t want us messing about in the insides of his dead brothers, which I feel is more than reasonable.”

The other apothecaries grumbled, but all of them left the hallway, except for Melinth, who stared at Cedric for several long seconds before slowly turning and leaving.

Anrir left a moment or two after Melinth did, and called out to the others “Between the seven of us, and what we were able to study, we have plenty of notes. Besides, you all saw the muscle cording. The mechanicus succeeded in making the Primaris marines physically stronger. The young one was gracious enough to allow us some time to study a couple of his dead brothers. He could have refused us entirely.”

Melinth groused back “You weren’t the one who got accused of letting a patient die on your table on purpose, Anrir.”

“I suspect that is the grief doing the speaking for him, rather than good sense. Besides, wouldn’t you be a little suspicious, were your position and his reversed? Especially as it is abundantly clear - at least to me - that none of the Primaris Marines have been treated very well by their older brothers in M-42. His wariness and caution is understandable if likely unneeded in this time. Such behaviors are difficult to unlearn.” Anrir countered. 

Cedric pointedly did not look at either of the two firstborn Apothecaries in training as he completed the task that he had been assigned. He did pause part way through putting away the medical supplies to send Ramiel a message, asking him to start gathering what he needed to properly send off Malachai and Lestra… He also planned on speaking with a certain Word Bearer to see if he was willing to let them borrow a hallowed space for the funerals.

… He should also probably talk to Arnualt and Roland as well to see if they wanted to attend the funerals as well. A sigh left Cedric as he placed the vinyl box of gauze on its assigned shelf before leaving the medical stockroom, locking the door behind him as both Belek and Algrets had already left the room. 

[egrets-not-regrets]

Hagfish Slime Shenanigans

Of Fin and Feathers AU: Cedric had been secretly keeping a pet hagfish in one of the smaller caverns connected to the family nest for a convenient supply of hagfish slime. The boys are roughhousing and of course, a hagfish slime fight ensues.

Author's Note: Co-written with the wonderful @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan. This was very fun and light-hearted story and gives a chance for all the merPrimaris brothers to have fun together. I enjoyed writing this one a lot.

Thanks for lending your characters! Cedric (c) @sleepyfan-blog. Ramiel, Jophiel, Catius, Oleandros, Kerubiel, and Thressl (c) @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

Ocean divider (c) @saradika-graphics

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

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

@gra93fruit-blog, @i-am-a-dragon34, @felinisnoctis

“Oof!” The wind got knocked out of him as Thressl caught the bend of Jophiel’s wing in his gut. The red-haired Space Wolf laughed, getting back up to continue their roughhousing, “I’ll get you bird boy!” He turned to the deep green mer who had just returned from his exploration of the other caverns with Claude, both staring openly at the chaotic wrestling scene, “Keru! Come on! Join the fun!” 

Thressl lashes his tail from side to side, in a way that, if he had legs, would have him bouncing on his heels. Kerubiel, at least in Thressl’s opinion, was a bit too reserved at times, and Cat-like. Then again he is a Dark Angel. Too mysterious and dramatic bastards, the lot of them, or at least so his older brothers in the Space Wolves had always complained about them to him.

Kerubiel shook his head, he still wanted to go poke around some of the caverns in this place. He’s been poking around his new “home” out of curiosity, looking at things. Even though he had Lady Lenora’s blessing to explore and examine the family nest, Kerubiel was cautious about exposing too many secrets too soon. 

If she and her bonded mate, the firstborn Iron Warrior cousin, Erriox, were anything like the Firstborn brothers that he’s used to, he would be in a lot of trouble. Not that he worries very much about that since he could take care of himself, but it’s nice to stay close to his other Primaris brothers and have a home base. Given how attached his brothers are to them though, especially to Lady Lenora, Kerubiel surmises that the couple were rather lenient and kind. 

“Get him, Claude!” Thressl calls out with a smirk.

He dodges when he feels the touch of Claude’s weight behind him, neatly throwing off his younger Primaris brother over his shoulder. Though Olly sneaks in quickly and bodily tosses the Dark Angel to the awaiting group in their makeshift wrestling area.

Kerubiel is mentally cussing out Olly- the damned Ultramarine could be a little too sneaky and much to his chagrin, had a strength that surprised him at times. But - it was fun sparring against him, against all of his fellow Primaris Marines here on Ancient Terra that he’s met, at least.

“Yeah Olly!” Jophiel crowed as Thressl and Catius whooped and hollered. 

“DOGPILE!” Thressl shouts, jumping onto his fallen brother. His brothers followed suit. 

“Don’t you dare—!” Kerubiel couldn’t even finish launching himself off the floor to escape before his idiot brothers came piling on top of him. Even the usually quiet Claude had a big mischievous grin on his face as he pinned his tail down. 

Kerubiel would use his Forest Walk ability- but that would mean that Claude could use his shadow teleport ability and their brothers without Psykery would cry foul for him not ‘following the rules, you bastard!’. Also, with how hard it is to use his powers, he’d rather save it for when he really, really needed it.

Besides- even as they wriggle and wrestle and fight- it’s all in good fun with lots of laughter and playful teasing. It’s nice. Kerubiel hadn’t realized how starved for touch he’d gotten until he started rough housing with his brother-cousins.

“Get your fat asses off of me!” Kerubiel doesn’t realize it but he’s laughing and smiling a little, as he gives as good as he gets.

“Not until you say ‘Mama save me!’!” Thressl grinned.

“You little brat!” Kerubiel growls at them and manages to lunge and wrap an arm around Thressl’s neck and drag his knuckles through the other’s hair. He roughly scrubs the Space Wolf’s head and barks out, “You say ‘Mama save me!’, you cheeky little shit.”

“Never surrender!” Thressl yells, twisting back with surprising agility and smacks Kerubiel in the back of his head with his tail. 

The Dark Angel spat out a mouthful of red hair then found himself in another chokehold. Catius chuckled, “Ah ah ah…” he tutted, “You left yourself open.” 

Kerubiel huffed, why does it seem like everyone decided to pick on him today?

Jophiel hurls himself on top of the older Ultramarine in a flurry of feathers, shouting, “We’re coming to the rescue, Keru!”

Kerubiel snorts, “Rescue, right.” grinning as more of his brother-cousins join the pile, with him ending up on the bottom of it again somehow, “Very helpful, you guys.”

Cedric is snickering at the lot of them, Kerubiel notices the Apothecary and gives him a smirk and twists and wriggles, flinging half of them off of him as he charges for the Apothecary who has something in his hands as he tackles him.

“Oh- Cedric~” Kerubiel sings with a smirk as he looks at the Son of Dorn, and then tosses him into the pile of brothers. “Gotcha.”

Cedric called out, squirming as he is dragged deeper into The Pile of brothers “Keruuuuu! Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal!”

Of course, whatever Cedric had been holding was upended onto his brothers during his struggle. 

Olly stopped, lifting up his arm, suddenly feeling the wet slimy sensation coating his torso. He made a face, “What is this?”

Ramiel, who just arrived and was watching from the Sidelines, chuckled, “That would be the hagfish slime that Cedric collects.”

“Oh! This is fun!” Claude giggles as he slips out of Olly and Catius’ grip and along the cave floor. Jophiel quickly activated his air swimming ability, not wanting the prospect of slime getting into his feathers. Also feeling wary seeing the mischievous glint in Thressl’s eyes. 

Thressl grinned and started to cackle. He starts to throw slime at several of his brothers, “I’m gonna getcha!”

“Wh-Hey no! Stop throwing that slime! I need that to make healing poultices with.” Cedric exclaims with some consternation. 

“Don’t you have a whole supply of that in that cavern back there?” Claude asks, happily sliding about in his squid-like form. 

“What? No!” Cedric totally did not squawk.

“After all you have that pet of yours to make more easily. ‘Slimy’ is it?” Catius says slyly as he catches more slime tossed his way and they continue to throw it at each other.

“I will bite you somewhere painful if you throw the slime at me!” Jophiel yelps as he flies above the others not wanting his wings slimed. It would take forever to get the stuff out of his wings. 

Olly laughs and gets smacked by a handful of slime. “Hey!” He scrapes the slime off of his face and tosses it back at Ramiel.

“I found more!” Kerubiel suddenly appears holding two large containers of slime and starts to chuck globs of slime at his brothers. 

“Guys stop!” Cedric pleads as he tries to get them to stop throwing the hagfish slime around. He was going to get into so much trouble if Lenora and Erriox found out. He can say goodbye to Slimy, his cozy nest, mama, and papa…

Plop! Cedric slowly wipes away the slime on his face. “You little shits…” he growls. Plop! Plop! Blap! as a bunch more slime found their mark. They were giggling and laughing. Even Ramiel! The audacity! Well if he had to go, he would go down fighting!

Kerubiel laughs heartily until he is cut off by a faceful of slime, “ack!”

“Y’all are fucked!” Jophiel says with a cackle as he continues to fly above the chaos,”get em Ced!”

“Oh no you don’t! Go catch him, Claude!” Thressl and Olly launch Claude at the Blood Angel scoutling. Who did not shriek as he dodges his slimy brother. What he had forgotten in the moment was that Claude had multiple tentacles with suckers on them, one of which manages to wrap around Jophiel’s leg, dragging him down into the slippery fray. 

“Nooo! My wings are slimed! You guys are gonna get it!” Jophiel yells his battlecry. He flaps his wings forcefully, the ensuing motion sending slime flying and bapping his brothers back down onto the slippery floor. Suddenly, he squawks as a plop of slime lands square between the base of his wings. 

Thressl laughs, “Don’t make yourself such a big target Jophi!” his own hair plastered to his scales by the slime. 

Jophiel darts behind Ramiel and Cedric crying dramatically, “Save me, Rami, Ced!” 

“Hey!”

“We need to clean—!” 

The two Black Templars couldn’t get a full sentence out before they found themselves the next big target and being pelted by slime. The two, and Jophiel, retaliate, hucking slimeballs at the rest of their brothers. 

Catius pauses, having understood what Cedric was about to say and asks hesitantly, “Maybe we should start cleaning… Blahhk!” with another faceful of slime. 

Thressl snorts, “Not until you say ‘Mama save me!’”

Catius glares at the young Space Wolf, “You rotten fermented herring! Olly! With me!”

Olly laughs and joins his squad brother in letting loose a barrage of slime at Thressl. 

“Nooo! Keru! Save me!” Thressl calls out as he reaches out to the Dark Angel to hide behind him, who quickly moves out of the way. 

“No! You’re on your own!” Kerubiel yells back. He had enough of this slime fight for today and was going to get himself cleaned off. 

Cedric points at him with vengeance in his eyes “Oh, you don’t get to get away with this! I’m taking you down with me!” Like Catius and Olly, he, Ramiel, and Jophiel team up and throw a fierce onslaught of slime at the instigator of this slimy mess. “You better say ‘Mama save me!’ if you don’t want to drown in slime!!”

Kerubiel couldn’t dodge all the balls of slime. He wants to be done with it and leave, but he is also not about to yell “Mama save me!” like a little coward. So he slides in behind Thressl, using him as a shield to fight back against his brothers. Thressl, of course, yells at Kerubiel’s betrayal and wrestles with him to see who was going to be the body shield next. 

Claude couldn’t care less about the ensuing battle as he happily slips and slides across the cave floor. 

Lenora flew into the cave as she normally does when coming home, feeling a little concerned when she thought she heard her boys saying “mama save me” followed by the sound of a bunch of wet and squishy things hitting something solid. 

Plop! Plop! Plop! Plop! She squawked loudly as she felt thick slime hit her body, the impact sending her to the ground. In a daze, Lenora tried to get up but could not gain purchase on the slippery cave floor. She looked up. Why was there so much slime? Was there slime on the ceiling too?

“Mama!” 

“Mom!”

“Mutter! I’m so sorry!”

She hears a chorus of her boys’ apologetic and concerned voices. Their hands quickly pull her to her feet and steady her as she stands. Lenora wipes the slime off her face then looks around, a frown forming as she takes in the mess around her as well as the guilty and contrite expressions on her adopted sons. 

“Where did all this slime come from?” She asks. Lenora knew Cedric had a supply of hagfish slime for making his poultices, but she didn’t realize he had this much!

Olly answers without skipping a beat, “It’s from Cedric’s hagfish.”

“Olly! Shush!” Catius elbows him. Olly glances at his brother, “But Mama asked a simple question.” It shouldn’t get Cedric in trouble… hopefully. Olly clams up after that though. 

All of the Primaris brothers are on high alert when a deep and loud growl sounds from the underwater entrance, “Boys… why is Lenora covered in slime and where did this mess come from?”

“We were having a slime fight,” Olly says before yipping a little at getting elbowed by multiple Brothers, half of which glare at him. 

What were they expecting? They had to tell Erriox the truth! And Mama got caught in their crossfire. Of course, he's mad. And, it’s pretty obvious as to what they were up to while Mama and Erriox were gone. Might as well fess up now and get the scolding and punishment over with.

“Sorry mama, sorry sir,” Olly says, rather contrite, “We will clean up the mess… and whatever other punishment you decide.”

Jophiel’s soggy wings fluttered nervously, as he plaintively added, “Please don’t un-adopt us!” 

“Un-adopt you?” Lenora repeated, letting out a small incredulous laugh, “Of course not, you silly fledgling! We’re not going to kick you boys out, but unfortunately the hagfish has got to go. And this place needs to be cleaned.”

The harpy couldn’t help but hide her smile behind her claws watching the collective sighs of relief and relaxing of their shoulders. Un-adopt them? What a silly concept. Well, being covered in hagfish slime doesn’t feel very nice, but it is not something unforgivable that she would abandon them for. 

The boys make way for her mate to air-swim towards her. Erriox tenderly wiped away more slime from her face with a light snort and chuckle as he quickly looked her over. He lifted her into his arms then turns to the Primaris brothers. 

“I will get Lenora cleaned up, but we will be staying at our old nest for tonight.” He glances at his mate and she nods in confirmation, “We expect you boys to have this place and yourselves cleaned by the end of tomorrow. Cedric, remove your hagfish and do not bring any more pets to this nest.” The Black Templar mer is about to protest about the unfair treatment when Erriox addresses the rest of the brothers, ”This applies for the rest of you too. And you all help Cedric harvest his supply of slime and care for his hagfish for the next month, wherever he decides to keep it.” 

Lenora giggles slightly at Thressl's groan and not-pout upon hearing the “no pets at home” rule; and the rest of her boys grumble about hagfish care while Cedric looks rather satisfied with that punishment. 

Erriox nuzzles her tenderly, “Have I covered everything?” he asks. 

She wraps her wings around his neck and quickly pecks his lips, “Yes. Let’s go.”

After Erriox and Lenora left the nest, Cedric turned to the rest of his brothers and clapped his hands, “Alright, let’s get this place cleaned up.”

“Where do you think you’re going?” Catius scruffs Kerubiel by the back of his neck as he attempts to sneak away, “You’re coming with me. Bath time after we clean this mess up.”

The Dark Angel grumbles, “Fine…” and follows the older Primaris mer. 

Thressl grins at Cedric and waggle his eyebrows, “Bet Ma and Erriox are gonna do more than just ‘clean up’.”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s normal that they would want to spend time together as mates in private. We’ll contact papa once we’re done and make sure we are clear to use the bathing area.” Cedric rolls his eyes, ending that conversation. He’s going to have to keep an eye on his brothers so they don’t sneak off and accidentally barge in on Erriox and Lenora’s “bonding time” knowing how tactless some of his brothers can be. 

After the hard work of cleaning up the nest and putting things right had been finished, “Where are we going to put your hagfish?” Olly asks

Cedric hums thoughtfully, “I’ll have to think about it some more about that. Come on, let's get washed up first.”

“Fair enough,” Olly says leaning into his brother affectionately.

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

What do I Know About You? - Part 2

Its finally Heeeeeere! This was another Awesome collaboration with @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan who not only lent characters but also cowrote thic massive chunk of words back and forth with me! Also this one is Long so bring a Lunch!

Summary: Lullaby and Khopesh Finally get to have their first date, and things don't go quite as planned. Was there even a plan? No aside from a deeply uncomfortable talk about trauma and expectations. Meanwhile the others back at base scramble to understand the strange Zap and the odd recognition Anrir felt upon seeing Lullaby. Many things stand in their way; fear, uncertainty and worst of all...Paperwork!

Tags: @kit-williams (who let me use Anrir and Ghosk though his presenceis only implied!) @sleepyfan-blog @bleedingichorhearts @passionofthesith @egrets-not-regrets @bispecsual

Warnings: Negative self talk, fear and prejudice speak towards Nightlords and psychers, talk of stress induced self harm (scratching and skin picking), and public PDA

First Fic/Prequel to this series click Here:

Directly previous fic can be found here:

Next one: Coming hopefully soon.

Enjoy!

“Uh- Anrir something… Strange happened,” Claude shuffles over to where Anrir is and explains. “... I wasn’t accessing my powers, I - I wouldn’t hurt someone accidentally, or on purpose, without just cause. I just shook Lullaby’s hand- I… I…I don’t know what that was about.”

He looks down at his hands, unable to look Anrir in the face. Cursed. Having warp powers means one is cursed. Who in the name of the God Emperor ever desired such things is an imbecile. Warp powers are a curse, to the person who has them and those around them.

Anrir's face remained calm- but his eyes were a storm of emotion at hearing the confused, stuttered explanation from Claude. His initial emotion is panic, as Anrir recalls that Claude is unbonded and that means he could take actions against Humans easily. Then he remembers how soft his son could be- and watches how worried and upset the youngster is. Claude hadn't wanted to hurt the human, or intended to do so.

Anrir starts to comfort Claude- he doesn’t fully understand psykers, or their abilities, but he does know that Claude ever strives to control his abilities and really doesn’t like it when that control slips. Especially if he accidentally hurts others as a consequence, because the training that he and the other boys received on Mars hadn’t … well. It had certainly been effective in some ways, and also had a lot of unintended side effects too. Those mechanical bastards.

Claude is really grateful that Anrir is here, trying to calm him down, Karlsor had not been great at that- mostly swearing at him and scolding him, as well as asking demanding questions, that he really didn’t have answers for, and accusing him of doing a Zap on purpose, which he hadn’t done so. 

“Walk me through what happened, step by step,” Anrir asks as he gently pats one of Claude’s shoulders soothingly.

Claude nods and verbally goes over the entire interaction, as well as what he’d been thinking, feeling, and other sensory outputs as well. He looks at one of his slightly shaking hands and once he’s gone through the whole interaction again, he’s a lot calmer, a slightly thoughtful look crosses his face.

“When I was younger… and back on Mars,” Claude says slowly, now that he’s thinking and not panicking, “The times where I would accidentally zap others like that- was if… was if I wasn’t aware they were fellow Psykers and my powers would just kinda… poke at theirs? But- I didn’t think Ancient Terra had native psykers so soon?”

Anrir hums softly and thinks, "They might not be awake. Their powers could be there but they might not be fully active... the Sorcerers have theorized that why the Warp is so weak might be linked to the Eye of Terror... since it's not here in the current time." His fingers soothingly move through Claude's hair. "Which means that only extraordinarily strong psykers can manifest much of anything during this current time which is probably why it's hard for you and you probably can only do it because of your training. Again those are just theories."

“Oh,” Claude says quietly, “... So they have the potential for it then. Like… like ice that has flowing water underneath it?”

“Interesting euphemism,” Anrir muses, “I’ll have to check with some of the Sorcerers, but I think that’s an accurate description.”

Jophiel and Cedric are moving with purpose- but not trying to be super fast as they get to Claude’s side. The Blood Angel is trying not to fluff his wings aggressively at Karlsor or Anrir.  Jophiel gently grabs one of Claude’s arms- the one with the hand that had touched Lullaby.

“Claude- there you are!” Jophiel trills at his brother-cousin, sounding as normal as possible.

Jophiel can be rather tactile- it’s something that Claude knows well. But the way that Jophiel is squeezing his arm, something bugging his younger brother-cousin. Claude’s gaze snaps to Jophiel’s as his gaze sweeps over his younger brother-cousin and notices that Jophiel is Spooked by something. “Did you need something Jophie?”

“... Yes, Ced and I want to talk to Claude. Privately and alone.” Jophiel says cheerfully. His eyes slide over to the First Born and Terran Born Space Marines, lightly trying to tug Claude away from them.

His smile is a tad too toothsome to be polite, and the red is bleeding into his eyes more. Usually Jophie doesn’t get too aggressive so quickly. Just what could be bothering him. “Uh- sure Jophie.”

Before Claude could move towards his brother, Karlsor speaks up with his own growl. One of his hands twitching a little- he usually wasn’t bothered by the feathery little shit head- but the little bastard is hiding something. Karlsor can tell.  

“You can fuckin’ talk with us nearby,” Karlsor points out, with a not quite snarl- noticing the twitchy way that Jophiel was moving. Also teeth. That’s a lot of shiny sharp chompers the brat has. “And it ain’t nice to threaten others, we wanna help.”

Jophiel narrows his eyes a little at Karlsor, “... I want to talk to Claude first.”

Claude had told the other Primaris Marines about that one First Born Raven Guard Captain and his flock of brothers- the ones from M42 who had known what the Captain was doing to him, but looked the other way. 

As well as how Karlsor, Anrir and the rest of the Claw reacted, and how they’d gotten him Justice for the shit-show that had been M42. It has helped his brothers start to trust at least some specific First Born Brothers a bit more. Still- old habits, and Jophiel wants to check over Claude to ensure that he’s not… got spores on him.

"I must Insist your inquiry involve us." Anrir drawls, bringing himself to stand near both Claude and the still clearly upset blood angel. 

The younger blood angel's patience was clearly running thin. "With all due respect Apothecary Anrir, this has nothing to do with you. I would very much like to speak to my Brother regarding His Health..."

The air shifted, and Jophiel suddenly found his frustration turning to fear and a realization along the lines of 'Oh Shit those were the Wrong words to use.' Cedric twitches a little, if things weren’t so serious he would have face palmed or jabbed Jophi in the ribs, the last sentence one should say around an older apothecary is ‘concerns about health’. 

The aura now radiating from the Terran Nightlord was full of pressure. He spoke with firm words that would seem unbothered lest you could sense the venom lurking just beneath them. 

"With All Due Respect...I consider Claude my Son, so If you know something is affecting His Health, Which would Also be My Business as I am an Apothecary, I must Insist," Anrir hissed causing Jophiel to shrink back further. "You inform me This Instant."

Jophiel glanced at Cedric who seemed equally unsure what to do. Then to Claude, who glanced at Anrir.

When Claude turned back to Jophiel, he nodded. "Anrir helped me before, he might know how to help now."

Jophiel deflated a bit, but...if Claude was okay with it, Fine. The Blood Angel squared his shoulders to attention. "Very well but...not here…" Jophiel bargained. "We need somewhere more private, and...I want to look over Claude with my psykery first...or at least while I explain what I've seen."

The glower Anrir had mustered up lessens, "That is reasonable, we can convene and converse in my Medbay office. Let us not delay."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The cool of evening was beginning to settle in, though it was still fairly bright outside, as you and your 'date' walked the short distance to the Fire Drake Noodle House. 

You're fortunate when Anrir said it was close he meant by human standards, not Astarte ones. Only about five minutes with a single street crossing. 

"So...you've been to this place before?" You ask Khopesh. Who responded with a pleasant hum. 

"No but I have had takeout from there before. The Scallion Pancakes weren't what I expected but they were delicious." He explains as the two of you wait at the crosswalk. 

"Oh yeah I've tried those at other places! Wait...what do you mean they weren't what you were expecting?"

"Ah well…" Khopesh scratches his head kinda awkwardly. "It was just after I got bonded to Vada and Muti. I was still learning to speak and read the local language. I recognized Pancakes but not Scallions. So…I thought I was getting the sweet kind."

"Pfft!" You chuckled. "Yep, that sounds about right. But hey you still enjoyed them so that's good."

"Yes! My brothers got upset, but In my defense they were Very Good."

Ding! The little crosswalk man popped up and you two abided. 

"Wait, why did your brothers get upset?" You asked.

"Because they were technically a group appetizer and I stole and ate all of them, As well as the entree that had been purchased for me." Khoepsh replied cheekily.

"You did not!" You challenged with laughing disbelief. 

"Oh but I Did!" Khopesh declared. "And though I had to scrub the barrack floors for a Week straight, I regret Nothing!"

"Well, as long as you don't go stealing food off mine or other people's plates we'll be golden." You assure him. "Slight tangent but if you like scallion pancakes there's something else called Egg Foo Young. It's like a mix between an omelet and a pancake with meat and veggies and a gravy like sauce its Super Good-"

"Shit it's a Night Lord." You hear one of the other people hiss. "Uh let's just go the other way around…" The other person says nervously, tugging at their friend’s elbow.

You were broken from your explanation by two hushed but insistent voices. Turning around you saw two people walking quickly back the way you and Khopesh had just come, they must have exited the alley you just passed. 

"What was that about?" But before you could get even a rhetorical answer a different couple had exited a shop a little ways ahead. 

They took one glance towards the two of you before quickly diverting the path and jay walking across the street.

You stood for a moment after they'd walked off. The words came out almost without thinking. "Well...that was Rude."

Khopesh seemed surprised, "What do you mean?"

You gestured after the people that had left. "Them! They don't even know you and they just…" 

Khopesh smiled incredulously. "Lullaby are you...offended?"

You were taken aback by his nonchalance …"Aren't you?" 

He deserved so much better than to be treated like that. A thought comes to your mind that hisses out viciously, ‘He deserved so much better than you.’

"Lullaby," Khopesh cooed, now seeming touched. "I have been called Far Worse things in my time, mostly by Karlsor." He amended. "But yoooou." He brought his big pale hands up and...squished your cheeks! "You are so Cute! Getting mad on my behalf!" He chortled, rubbing and sqwoosing and lifting you Just slightly so your bodies were flush against each other. 

Okay...you actually didn't mind this...odd as it was. But you were in public. But before you could voice that you realized Khopesh was practically nose to Nose with you. "Makes me want to...Eat you up…" He growled with a sultry edge.

Staring into his dark eyes, your cheeks and face ignited, further contrasting your heated skin against his cool. 

You Really didn't mind this. But in the back of your mind you felt the alarm bells. Public, still in public and- 

"And never let you go..."

(!) There it was. Also you realized you were getting stretched a bit more on tip toe now. 

"Too much, down please." You state quickly. 

"Oh!" Khopesh seems taken aback but he releases you regardless. "My apologies, Lullaby, it seems I became too eager again." He chuckled bringing up a hand to gently rest on your cheek. "You're just so Cuuute."

You huff and can’t help but smile as you say teasingly, “You are right eager.”

‘Eager to keep you, or eager to break you,’ Your thoughts hiss at you again. You weren't certain. And that uncertainty starts to gnaw at you.

‘Talk, you Need to have A Talk.’ You think to yourself firmly. ‘And you will!! Just...dinner first. Get some food on his stomach so he's in a better mood.’ 

That horrible voice in your head hisses out at you, warningly, ‘Have you ever really Seen him in a bad mood. Do you want to find out what that looks like?’

"S'all right, learning curve and all that." You reassure him, and you continue walking. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Alright," Jophiel relaxed both his mind and body and let his warp sight dim. "I don't see anything strange on your soul Claude. You can stand up now."

He leans against the table, that was exhausting. And used far more power than it should have. But it was necessary to do so. He had to make sure that Claude was okay, and barring that, if he was not okay, that he could see what was wrong and fix it, or find someone who could.

"Ah thank you," Claude replied, hopping down from the medical table. Cedric hands him a hydration ration and a ration pack to help Jophiel replenish his energy a little bit.

Cedric, Karlsor and Anrir were gathered in the same room watching as Jophiel conducted his examination. Anrir was the first to speak. Karlsor has his arms crossed over his chest as he tries to figure out what sort of psy-exam the Blood Angel Scout-ling was doing. The younger Psyker was clearly looking for something.

"You've done your examination, now talk. Explain Why you thought something might be amiss with Claude." The Terran Night Lord commanded with no room for exception. "Spare no details, leave nothing out."

Jophiel turned and stood at attention. If he was to reveal this he would do so properly. "Yes sir, I was called by Cedric after the zap occurred. He believed as I do now that the exchange of energy was Not merely a static shock, but wanted me to surreptitiously examine the mortal to make sure."

"And?" Anrir prompted.

Now Jophiel became a bit more uncomfortable, but he pressed on. "The Human, Lullaby, has the spark of psykery. But it is...strange. It seems to originate from something that looks like a bond...but isn't."

"But Lullaby isn't bonded to Khopesh...are they bonded to someone else? And are you Certain they're a latent psyker?" Claude asks now Exceptionally curious, and the latter part of the question sounding a bit morbid. 

Claude's own powers had been Hellish to learn how to control, between the grueling training and the abuse he suffered... he didn't like the thought of a mere human having to go through even Half of that.

"Of that I have no doubt. It is the spark." Jophiel fidgeted a bit, thinking over his next words. "But...rather than manifesting as a plume of warp energy in their soul, or an aura around it...it appears to be originating from a...a mutated bond."

Anrir listened with rapt attention. "Mutated How?"

"It's...Wrong," Jophiel filled in. "From what I've always heard and seen...Bonds are supposed to resemble plants aren't they?"

Anrir nodded. "Yes, that is true. According to the librarians I have consulted, All bonds I have examined in my research have taken on the visuals of plant life. The strength and life span of the bond is displayed by the health of the vines, and usually the presence of flora. The type of which varies depending on the…relationship dynamics."

Anrir felt a slight annoying itch, like the thorns on his own bond were digging into him. He didn't like recalling their existence. His vines were Healthy and beautiful with blossoming roses that Bound his Draga to him Tightly. Just as he liked it, every rose has its thorns so it is Natural.

At least that's what Anrir tells himself. But back on topic. 

"Ahem, also, broken bonds take on a withered appearance until they desiccate back into nothing, or a new bond brings them back to life. So what makes you say this bond is mutated?" Anrir prompted. 

"Well for one, Lullaby isn't currently bonded to Anyone correct?" Jophiel reasoned, they were involved with a Nightlord with a separate platonic bond; if they had a bonded Astarte companion of their own, why would they be giving Khopesh that kind of attention? "They shouldn't even have one, that Alone makes it an outlier." Jophiel stated. "And even if it was a withering broken bond That would resemble dried out, dying foliage, That Thing," Jophiel shuddered. "Is Very Much Alive." 

"It...it was pulsing and glowing and spiraling out like a mycelium network! Some of its tendrils started moving over my Hand!" Jophiel rubbed the hand that had been touched like he wished he could scrub away the memory. "I could Feel it siphoning away my powers! It is Wrong and it is Dangerous!" Jophiel hissed, composure breaking and wings fluffing up. 

He rubs his hands against his legs, trying to get that prickling feeling that itched and scratched some of the skin off his shaken hand with the other one subconsciously as his claws extended and Cedric smacked his shoulder to keep him from making a mess of himself.

Cedric stepped in quickly. "Easy Jophie, it's okay. That Thing can't hurt you here." He said softly, giving his brother a calming presence to ground him. 

Jophiel leans into Cedric, closes his eyes for a moment, stopping himself from spiraling for a moment. Claude lightly puts a hand on his brother-cousin’s arm. Trying to help ground him as well.

Anrir watched the exchange but his mind was Racing. "Possibly the First recorded psyker of the Baseline human populace…" He mused.

Karlsor meanwhile Knew that look. Anrir was going to be in his own head for a bit Fucking Greaaat. Karlsor rubs his face- this is some really big fucking news. And they would need to keep a tight lid on this. This could spiral out of control very fast if it’s not handled properly.

"And an entirely new subset of warp bonds...incredible...fascinating…" Anrir muses out loud

"It is Not fascinating! It is Horrifying! And it carries the shadow of Decay!" Jophiel shot back with a hiss, his wings raised and flaring in his upset.. 

"Decay?" That seemed to wake Anrir up. 

"Yes! Decay! That was what tipped me off that it looked like a Mycelium. I couldn't remember the word for it until I focused on the feeling of decay and remembered seeing a diagram in one of Apothecary Hura's biology books!" Jophile huffed, though he was starting to calm down with both Claude and Cedric comforting him. He wraps his wings around both of his brothers, shielding and half hiding them from view of the two Night Lords as he calms down. The red in his eyes is starting to fade away.

Now Karlsor noted the look on Anrir's face was much more grim. "Penny for your fuckin thoughts?"

"I believe I need to speak to Apothecary Hura." Anrir stated, turning to leave his office. "The rest of you should finish whatever duties you have left, and retire for the evening. Claude,"

“Oh fuck.” Karlsor growls, “What did that fucker do now?”

"Yes Fa- Ah Anrir." Claude asked. 

Anrir smiled wryly at the near slip. "I will send you some currency, this day has been surprisingly taxing for you and your brothers." He said, turning back to the three Primaris, "Get something nice for yourselves from a restaurant of your choice. My treat."

Jophiel and Cedric seemed legitimately surprised by the offer, given the...slight disrespect from earlier. "Ah...thank you Sir."

"Thank you Apothecary Anrir." Jophiel says politely.

"And, for the sake of not causing any Uproar, let us keep this conversation Private." The cold pitiless dread came back into Anrir's voice for a brief moment. The Primaris understood the unspoken threat. 

"Yes Sir!" Jophiel says with a nod, nascent psykers, especially baseline humans faced a lot of fear and scrutiny from the people around them who don't have those powers, or understand it.

 "Understood!" Cedric said with a nod- this was confidential patient information, and unless he had no other choice, no whisper of this would come from him willingly.

"Of course Anrir!" Claude says with a sharp nod, he's great at secret keeping.

Anrir nodded, and made his way out of the room. He needed to have a little...chat with Hura about his Long Term patient. Karlsor follows after Anrir, half curious, half dreading what the flying fuck was going to happen, what information they might fish out of the Death Guard.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Khopesh arrive at the Fire Drake Noodle House, and you can't help but Marvel at the gorgeous space; emblazoned with warm reds, dark greens and shining golds. Banners display dragons and with the light fixtures having Actual Flames and the many metal worked items adorning the walls the whole atmosphere reminds you of a warmly lit forge. 

It’s such a wonderful place, you breathe in the smells of the restaurant through your nose. It smells so good.

The atmosphere inside also feels just as warm and vital as the decor...but that also means you might have to wait for a table.

"It's so pre-tty~" You fawn, utterly taken in by the environment. 

"Hmm...the lighting is a bit much...but the temperature is pleasant." Khopesh surmised, squinting his eyes a bit.

You were confused, till you remembered, "Oh right, your eyes are dark adapted...it's not too much right?"

Khopesh smiled. "You are too much," He pinched your cheek causing you to let out a painless "-Hm!". He was far more gentle than the squooshing earlier. "Your concern for me is endearing, but I have fought my way through battlefields and entire worlds where the blaze of war and the hellfire of artillery were literally Blinding. This Is Nothing, compared to that, and I will be fiiine." He assured you.

FWOOSH! A pillar of fire suddenly burst up in the kitchen with a sizzle, clearly an intentional part of the cooking. But you saw Khopesh flinch and squint even more as his eyes reacted to the sound by locking onto its bright hot source. 

Yeah, not fine. "...We're getting a booth in the back in the corner in the dark." You say simply. 

"But then we may have to wait longer." Khopesh groaned. "And aren't you hungry?"

"Yes, but this isn't Just for me, it's for both of us." You explain. "I want my partner to be comfortable while we're sharing a meal."

Khopesh seemed to take a pause. "Partner?"

You swallowed, "Y-yeah, you're my partner. At least...that's what I'd like us to be…" You explain. 

Khopesh doesn't respond, but he also doesn't seem...offended?? At least you hope not, he just seems to not quite understand.

"We can talk about it more once we've eaten." You finally say. 

Khopesh's smile curves back up, still a bit unsure looking. "That sounds ominous, Lullaby."

You shrug. "You wanted me to be honest, so I'm going to be." You declare. "But After food, cause no way am I doing something as exhausting as being Honest on an empty stomach."

"Pfft! Ha! You make it sound like Such a burden!" Khopesh chortled. 

"Is the Truth not a burden?" You reply dryly. "Ruminate on that while I talk to the host, also I've gotta use the restroom. If they call for the table before I get back go ahead and sit down okay? I'll find you."

"Of course my Lullaby, whatever you say~" Khopesh replied, it amused him when you got all chatty, and planned and laid out clear, obvious instructions. Honestly, were you able to become an aspirant you'd probably make a good Ultramarine. 

But you'd be Far more pleasant to interact with than one of those paperwork pushing, goody goody blueberries. Well maybe that's not completely fair, Khopesh had known...at least a Few Ultramarines that weren't...completely a drag to be around. 

He could only count those on one hand but Hey! They still counted. 

"Table for two please." You say as you approach the host stand, behind which stands a giant Salamander in a professional looking dark green outfit, with pale but textured hair tied back into a fashionable style. Also the marine in question looks...familiar.

The Salamander smiles in greeting. "It will be about fifteen minutes, I also heard you and your companion discussing your preference for a darker table setup. We can dim or fully extinguish any sconces once a table opens up should you so choose."

You were a bit taken aback by your whole convo being overheard. You were being too Loud again why are you Always so Lo- But you squashed that thought quickly, Astartes have excellent hearing even in a busy humming restaurant. This Host probably even tried to focus on chatter from incoming guests so he could get ahead of their accommodations. 

Clever and proactive of...Pyrus, as his name tag read. 

"Thank you, and yes! We would like that if possible…Go ahead and put the table under Khopesh please." You surmise, you wouldn't be able to hear it in the bathroom, speaking of which. "Ah by the way...could you tell me where I can find the restrooms?"

Pyrus nodded. "Ah yes, simply walk back from here to the left corner of the restaurant. Hallway alongside the patio, you can't miss it."

You give a quick nod, "Okay thanks." And hustle past to follow the instructions given. 

Meanwhile, Kerubiel had been sent by the rest of the Primaris marines as the one who had drawn the short straw and had to pick up the ‘not ration food order’ and it was from the Fire Drake Noodle House. Claude, Cedric and Jophiel had come back from going to the Chaos Base with pensive looks and thoughtful expressions.

When questioned all they would say is that they’d met someone new, who’d seemed nice. Other than that, they wouldn’t say much. Kerubiel knows that they are keeping something from him and the others.

But the rest of the Primaris Marines had allowed themselves to get distracted by food- and Kerubiel was curious about what sort of food this Fire Drake Noodle House place has, and begrudgingly looked over the menu and picked out some things to eat.

As he walks in, his gaze snaps to the First Born Night Lord sitting in the waiting area. His hands clench and unclench as he stalks over to the Chaos Traitor Bastard and glowers at him. Even if his new pride is keeping secrets from him. He can at least learn something.

“Night Lords don't usually travel Alone. Where is the rest of your godless heathen Claw of Bastards?” His curiosity gets a hold of him as he goes over to the First Born Space Marine. 

Khopesh is a little taken off guard by the sudden interrogation by the Dark Angel- he’s a big fucker. But he realizes- as he looks the rude bastard over, that he’s young- looks around the age of Claude and the other Primaris Marines. 

He’s also similarly sized, so he drawls out with a smirk on his face, “Back at base, which is where you should be...isn't it past your curfew little lion Cub?”

“I’m here getting an order,” Kerubiel says with a scowl, “I don’t have a curfew and I’m not a cub! Why are You here?"

Khopesh could see the little kitty was fishing for information. Dark Angels, over one hundred centuries and some things never Change. But fine...he'll play along.

"I'm sharing a meal with my precious Lullaby." Khopesh responded smugly. He let the follow up go unsaid. You know...because someone actually Wanted his company. 

Kerubiel could tell based on context (and logic I mean what space marine would call another space marine Lullaby of all things??) The Night Lord was referring to a human. 

Was this human his bonded? He was unsure if the Night Lord would give that information willingly. No matter though, he could find that out for himself. 

Carefully, Kerubiel drew on his psykery. He had heard about Bonds and other such nonsense. He didn’t really understand it, none of them did. None of them are Bonded. The lack of information was bothering him a lot. Information is key to survival after all.

And like in practice he saw the bond, flourishing and floral (honestly it was kinda pretty-) No! Focus! The strain of using his powers is starting to make his vision waiver, just a little bit.

But...something was off. Kerubiel may not have been the most experienced with bonds or emotions...but he could tell the bond in front of him was completely Platonic. He’d seen a few bonds of different kinds, they had different color-feel-patterns to them.

And again...context and logic. Precious Lullaby Could be a platonic term of endearment but considering how Dopey eyed the Nightlord appeared when he said it that was Doubtful. 

Khopesh grimaced as the youngster continued to Stare at him. He had a feeling he knew what he was doing. He'd let Claude and Anrir study his bond many times. So even without active psykery of his own he Knew the feeling of being examined. 

And this entitled little Snot hadn't even asked permission. But he held himself in Check; didn't want to get tossed out on his ass for being a Night Lord who got in a squabble. "Are you done being an Invasive little shit or are you just going to keep Staring at me Cub?"

Kerubiel let go of his sight, Damn that still took a lot out of him. But he would Not, show weakness. "Why would a space marine lower themselves to break bread and consort with a human they aren't even bonded to?" 

Okay Now, he was going to beat the shit out of the little snot consequence be Damned. One of his hands twitches, as he longs to clock the brat in the face with his fist.

As Khopesh was contemplating the best method of springing up from this bench and Strangling the little bastard in a headlock, Kerubial let out one more jab. "And Why would any sane  human choose a Night Lord of all companions?"

"Because I Like His Company." A terse voice comes from behind the Primaris Dark Angel, causing both space marines to perk up. 

You stand there, arms crossed as the large Dark Green hooded Bastard turns so he can see you, and you now have an unblocked view of your Night Lord still sitting on the waiting bench, though clearly much more tense than you'd left him. 

Honestly you leave for the bathroom, you use said bathroom, you wash your hands and splash your face and Hype yourself up for the talk to come and What do you come back to?? Some large petty nosy space marine getting into Khopesh’s face and asking a bunch of rude ass questions. 

At first you thought they might just know each other, until you heard the other Space Marine essentially ask, “Why would a human want to be with the likes of you?”

"Fuck. You. That's why!" You continue hotly, spurred on by your indignation and putting yourself Between this bastard and Your Night Lord, "He's fuckin Great. And Because, I can choose for myself who I damn well Please to hang out with! And not you nor anyone else is gonna tell me otherwise!" You state hands on your hips as your voice gets louder as you defend Khopesh from this asshole.

Does he need defending? Probably not, could probably fold this guy like a cheap tea table, but is that gonna stop you from puffing up and getting Right into a much larger Space Marine's face? 

Well clearly not you're already doing it. You would be more scared, but you were defending someone else. Someone who you care for deeply, who doesn't deserve to be harassed simply for being in a public place.

"Now you can either trot your merry renfaire ass along or I Will be reporting to your superior officer how you are making a damn Fool of yourself and All said superiors because clearly whoever trained you didn't impart you Manners!" You continue to rant and point a finger at him.

Kerubiel scowls at Lullaby and Khopesh, and starts to growl low in his throat at their rudeness. But while he clenches his fist, he’s no Chaos or Renegade scumbag to hurt a Baseline unless attacked first. His eyes narrow as he glares down at them and back at Khopesh.

Who now has an absolute look of looming Murder on his face. Not at You no no No. Before the prickly little cat bastard had the shitting Gall to Growl at His Lullaby, he'd been surprised and even Exhilarated by you cussing out his aggressor in front of him. 

Defending a monster like him, as if you had even a Ghost of a chance against the Primaris. All puffed up like a bluffing Hen, but you were completely serious. And so was Khopesh about that brutal homicide that was rapidly approaching this Dark Angel if he Didn't- Stop-Threatening-His-Lullaby!

Pyrus comes over- having heard raised voices- moving faster once he hears Growling Dark Angel Noises and calls out to the squabbling group. "Khopesh party of two your table is ready." He announces, trying to diffuse the situation and organically move the two arguing members apart. "We have the sconces dimmed and everything is set, if you'll just follow my fellow host right over there."

You glanced over seeing another smartly dressed host, this time a human Baseline, waving you over. "Excellent, thank you So much for the accommodations." You say in your sweetest most polite voice, before turning back to Khopesh and holding out your hand. 

"Let's go have a nice meal now, and try to forget any...unpleasantness." You gave Kerubial a sharp side eye. The bastard even had the audacity to look insulted.

Khopesh is now in a Much better mood without that nasty bastard growling and prodding at him. He's also pleasantly surprised to see the Host take his side but he pushes that thought away for now, taking his Lullaby's offered hand. 

You smile, and settle into Khopesh's side, literally hanging off his arm. Are you doing it to be spiteful? Absolutely yes, one hundred percent. But just as much you are doing it to be affectionate. 

You even decide to really lay it on, indulging in tucking yourself close to your Night Lord and nuzzling him. Treating Khopesh to some well deserved (after that bullshit especially) tenderness, and showing that green hooded Prick how Happy you were in the company of said Nightlord. Khopesh responds by purring softly, and giving the green hood prick a smug look with full teeth.

As you two move to go to your table. Pyrus moves over and accidentally bumps into the Primaris Dark Angel that’s growling a little and turns to look at him with fire-bright eyes, “Please leave, if you are going to upset guests at this place.”

“I have an order I’m picking up!” Kerubiel protests.

“Who’s name is it under?” Pyrus asks hands on his hips as he gives a disappointed look to the other astarte. “What’s your name and Chapter?”

“Primaris Marine Kerubiel of the Dark Angels. M42.” Says, before Kerubiel grumpily gives Cedric’s name to answer the second question.

 “... Ah- you’re one of the newer arrivals.” Pyrus says, which explains, but doesn’t excuse his behavior. “I’m going to report to Captain Ash’val about this incident.”

“He’s not my Captain,” Kerbuiel says one of his lower lips stuck out a little bit as his eyebrows come down in a scowl.

Pyrus stares at him flatly, he hands him the order, “please leave, unless you want to deal with the Reason we decided to call it the Fire Drake Noodle House.”

Kerubiel is curious- but he doesn’t want to get into that much trouble after finishing up healing and being finally allowed to run around outside without supervision. Fucking- Thressl’s reaction would be annoying to deal with, the cackling laughter and ribbing would be annoying.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"And for the love of all things Unholy Do Not scratch at the stitches." Hura scolded the newly arrived Space Wolf with the bright mane of red hair. "Unless, you want me to drag you back here and Actually put you in a cone for your impudence." 

"You wouldn't!" Thressel shot back, 

"I can and I Will." Hura assured him, snagging the willful pup by the ear. "I Might even have to shear off some of your precious red locks in order for it to fit properly. We wouldn't want that now, Riiiiiight?"

Thressel went pale, "Ack! Fine! FINE! I understand!" He snarled, barely tamping down on his instinct to Bite the hand disciplining him.

"Good," Hura cheerfully released the Pup and picked up the relevant paperwork. "Other than that your vitals seem good, your hearing is still slightly imbalanced but that may improve yet. Are their any other questions you have?"

"Nope, now let me Go ya Chaos bas-" Thressel caught himself before his big dumb mouth could land him in that dreaded cone. "I mean...I'm Fine, got no questions. And my brothers are waiting fer me."

Hura nodded, smart pup. "Any plans?" The apothecary asked as he wrote a few more notes. 

Thressel hmm'd for a moment. Cedric seemed to trust this Chaos traitor, at least with things related to healing. Sides, not like telling him would ruin their plans. "Says they ordered somethin’ called 'taik out.' Told me it was a special kind of Baseline food."

"I believe you mean Take Out." Hura corrected. "The food can be anything from any culture or style. Take out simply means the food is purchased and brought elsewhere."

Thressel huffed a laugh. "Whatever it is, I'm no one ta say no to a free meal. So can I go now?"

"Yes, pup, go run along."

The excited Space Wolf hopped eagerly off the medical table and ran for the door. No Way was he getting left with table scraps "-Oh!"

As Thressel was exiting he came face to face with a grim old face. Pale and dark eyed, a Nightlord…

"Watch where you're charging you clumsy Bitch!" Two Night Lords, the other one just behind the first snarled at him. 

“Oh Fuck off you gloomy bat!” Thressl growls at them, “I was here first!”

Hura comes over hearing the argument and ready to politely bully his cousins for being naughty if needed, “Ah- Karlsor, Anrir- come in- what’s the issue? Go- on now Thressl. Shoo.”

“Fine,” Thressl makes a face at all three First Born Chaos Space Marines but he does scuttle off to go where his brother-cousins are. 

While he’s curious to see what the Old Bastards are up to, he’d rather heal up a bit first and taste this ‘take out’ is and set Kerubiel on this fuckers, that is entertaining to watch. And the Primaris Dark Angel would tell them if he thought he had some information that he thought they needed to know.

Hura gestures for Karlsor and Anrir to join him in his office- he waits until Thressl’s superior hearing, even among the Astartes, is out of range and he turns to the two Night Lords, “What can I help you with?”

He looks them over, neither of them are injured, and Anrir is an excellent Apothecary, for patching himself and others up. He’s curious to see what it is that has the pair of Night Lords Seeking him out.

“I have some questions for you,” Anrir says, watching Hura sharply as he almost glares.

“What questions?” Hura asks.

“About the Baseline you recognized earlier, and how you and Xerxes helped them recover,” Anrir says, eyes darkening a little, “When you and Xerxes helped them … was there any… additional things that you or he did to them?”

“What do you mean by that?” Hura asks, arching an eyebrow at Anrir, having taken off his helmet to speak with them more freely.

“Did you fucking Chaos twist them?” Karlsor, says, rather not wanting to dance around something, “Cause if you fucking did- then we have a big fucking problem.”

Hura rears back as if he’d just been slapped, and insulted, “I did not, and nor did Xerxes do any ‘Chaos twisting’ on them. And what do you mean by that anyways?”

Karlsor heaves a sigh and then tells Hura what Jophiel had explained to him ending with a, “decay and mushrooms sounds an awful lot like your Grandfather’s grox-shite.”

Hura can’t stop the look on his face, “And you think I, or Xerxes can - what- affect bonds like that?” 

“Can you?” Anrir asks. 

“Or Can fucking Xerxes do it?” Karlsor asks, in a rather rude tone of voice. “And why the fuck didn’t you tell us you could do this?"

“As far as I am aware of,” Hura states honestly, “I cannot affect bonds like that, Nor has Anyone been able to so far, not the way that you are speaking of anyway. And I don’t think that Xerxes can either, if you want, I can call in my brother for you to question him on what exactly it was he did to help...save them.”

Karlsor glanced at Anrir, who had paused to think. "Time is of the essence, I do want to inter-," The old Terran Nightlord stopped himself, before he could commit a Dreadful faux paus in front of the Death Guard who was almost as old and deadly as him. "I mean...I would like your Brother Xerxes's personal recount of the events of course. But I doubt he can arrive here as quickly as we need."

Hura drummed his gauntleted fingers on his chin. "...Perhaps, there is another way...at least one that could hold the information you seek. Or rather Proof, that whatever is presently occurring with that Bond, it was Not apparent the last time my patient was here." Hura stopped his fingers and his gaze turned Deathly serious. 

"What I am about to tell and show you is Highly classified information. The event That poor child has been through sent ripples through the upper ranks, and it was immediately quelled so as not to spark panic or rebellion." Hura explained, motioning for the two Night Lords to follow him out of his office. 

They do so, and to their surprise the Apothecary leads them from the usual travel path hallways of the medbay to a generic looking door in a random room off to one side. Anrir had never truly taken notice of it, as it had the look and smell of an extra storage room. 

Hura pulls out a key card and presses it to the blank wall. A click is heard and the mystery door opens. 

As Hura shambles through and down, Anrir marvels, a disguised Stairwell, how clever. Anrir understood there were places in this base he'd never seen. Each legion had their own separate spaces so it made sense. 

But as a trusted Apothecary he was taken aback that he'd never seen or scarcely even been told about 

Down, down, down they go past more floors and doors but they only stop at the bottom of which resides another door, which Hura instead knocks on. Anrir recognizes the pattern and has to stifle a laugh. 

Shave and a haircut. Two bits.  

Again another click, and the door pops open to reveal a hallway not unlike the regular ones on the floor above. With again...more doors. 

"What the Fuck!?" Karlsor exclaims.

"Language!" Both elders hiss, causing the mouthy Nightlord to clam up.

"Fuck, sorry." Karlsor mutters. 

Hura ambles forward. "The information we seek is behind one of these." He gestures. 

"The fuck you mean...One of these?" Karlsor asks with confusion. 

"The Doors of course, little cousin." Hura cooes, with Karlsor growling lowly in response. "This...extension of the medbay was a collaborative effort between several legions and the high ranking officials within them."

"Ultramarine, Raven Guard and Even Alpha Legion contributed. Despite the primitive setup and materials it's quite...secure." Hura continued, glancing at each of the doors. 

"I'm assuming there's a catch?" Anrir posed. This all seemed too easy. 

Hura nodded smartly. "Astute observation. Yes you see every three months the records and data here are reshuffled with a tweaked or brand new sorting method." Hura explained. "There are also false or incorrect documents mixed in to further muddy things." Hura approached one of the doors. "And of course in lieu of dealing with data breaches...the Ultramarines thought it best if all These records were kept in…" Hura opened the door, revealing shelves upon shelves of folders. "Paper form."

Anrir balked at the mountain before him. Karlsor let out a plethora of swears and Neither apothecary bothered to correct him this time. 

"Fuck this! I'm keeping watch." Karlsor declared. 

Seems he had his work cut out for him. 

“Shall we begin, Anrir?” Hura says, giving the other Apothecary a smile as he starts reading and sorting through the documents.

Karlsor would rather be stuck staring at the fucking sun striped bare ass naked for hours. Then deal with oh four Paperwork. It's why He's never accepted a promotion as then he'd have to deal with the fucking Paperwork that came with such a thing. So, while he wants to know what is going on, he's not that Curious about it. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Alright folks I'll get these drink orders for you, give you some time to look over our menu. Please enjoy, and I Do apologize for that...unexpected upset." The sweet waiter states as the two of you get settled into your comfortable darkened booth in the back in the corner in the dark. 

Well it's not in the corner but the dimming of the sconces directly above you Does reduce the brightness. 

Khopesh snorts, "Wasn't your fault the Lion Cub decided to get all hissy." He assured them. 

"Yeah, no, don't worry about it." You chime in. "We're certainly not gonna let it ruin our evening." 

"Good good. If you need anything else just flag me down and I'll take care of it." As they strode away you took another moment to breathe in the atmosphere. A bit of nostalgia tickled at your brain. 

"Reminds me of this Tiiiiny Italian place my PawPaw used to love going to." You say, making some light small talk, Khopesh seems confused for a moment till you elaborate, "With the dimmed lights I mean. It was always so dark, only place that had regular lighting was the bathroom. And the only lights I ever saw lit in the dining area were the candles on the tables."

Khopesh smiled. "That sounds perfect for a Nightlord, but inefficient for a Baseline restaurant."

"True...funny enough I-" You felt a slight twinge of a headache. "I...don't remember ever seeing any Astartes in there...but I don't think they weren't welcome per se…" You shook off the feeling before the pain could amplify. "Maybe it was just too small a venue."

"Perhaps," Khopesh acquiesced. "Also what was that dish you mentioned on the way here?" He hummed looking over his menu.

"Egg Foo Young," You stated, "Though even if it's not directly called that, they might still have something like it." You surmised. 

The menu, appropriate to the restaurant's name, showed a plethora of noodle dishes and soups. The lo mein seemed tempting, but your eyes also lit up upon seeing they had a Ramen section. 

The appetizers featured a number of your favorites. But you tempered yourself. "Got a lot of good looking items," You hummed. "Just don't want to spend too much on myself. Get whatever you like though okay? As long as it's not gold encrusted or costs the same as a car payment I'm fine to cover it."

"Pfft! You really think my tastes are That expensive?" Khopesh shot back before following up with. "Besides, Anrir transferred some funds to me for this, so You and I can Both get whatever we like." 

"Wait seriously?" Oh...the cellphone exchange while they were back at the base suddenly made sense. 

"Of course! He wants us to have a nice evening…" Khopesh assured, but he noted you looked...conflicted. "Is something wrong?"

You glanced up, seeing Khopesh's vaguely worried expression. "Uh...not really it's just…" Honest remember? Try to be Honest. You let out a soft sigh. "Hmm...I guess I just felt like...expensive or not, I wanted to treat You. Like don't get me wrong! I think Anrir is Super generous for doing that. I'll have to thank him later."

"I just...I know there's not a lot I can Give or do For You. If that makes sense.” You offered. 

Khopesh didn't seem to follow. “I'm afraid I don't quite understand.” 

“Well…I guess it feels like You give me a lot, attention, affection, you make me laugh, you comforted me when I had that bad dream. And for someone like you who's so much more capable, and physically stronger than I'll ever be and…" You trailed off, noticing how Khopesh was listening intently. 

In his focus and with the soft candle light flickering gently over his features, tracing an orange highlight into his dark eyes he looked…

"Why'd you stop?" He asks, breaking you from your trance. 

"S-sorry it's just...you look Really pretty in the candlelight."

Khopesh...did Not expect that. He felt like the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding in his three lungs flew from him silently with a simple but Slightly squeaky "-oh."

His Lullaby...thought he looked Pretty? Pretty? P-R-E-T-T-Y? In all the time he'd been alive he couldn't remember Ever being called that. Fierce? Commonly. Terrifying? All the time. And he knew baselines back in his time revered almost all Astartes with various shades of Fear and Awe. Some could and would even call the most frightening of their kind things like Ethereal.

But something as simple and kind as pretty? Never. The Nightlord felt his cheeks burn and he couldn't stop himself from grinning.

"How do you Do that?" He groaned playfully, placing his hands on his cheeks and his elbows on the table. 

"Do what?"

"Surprise me like that!" Khopesh exclaimed, moving his hands to the table before him. Looking almost like he was preparing for a lunge. "No matter what you do, or if I Think I know what you'll do, you always seem to catch me off guard somehow! It's so Frustrating." He growled but again, there didn't seem to be any real anger in it. Honestly, it came out more like a rough purr. "But I Love it. Which I don't understand, which just frustrates me More." He giggled, running his hands through his long hair. 

Well, you were hoping for honesty, and though it was a...strange thing to find enjoyment in. "I mean...I guess I'll take that as a compliment. But back on topic." You redirected the conversation. "I guess part of me feels a little disappointed I wasn't able to do something nice for you. I'm not mad or anything, and honestly I'm still glad I get to spend time with you."

Khopesh agreed, but something itched at his mind, like there was something he wanted to say in return or perhaps he could sense there was more You wanted to say, but didn't quite know how. 

So instead he'd take a moment to read your body language in the candlelight. 

Khopesh wasn't unaware of his own appearance, he knew his features could run the spectrum of ethereal to eldritch horror in the minds of baselines. He'd known enough Nightlords who, ahem, acquired personal serfs; promising safety and security through whispered sharpened teeth that the baselines shivered from with every possible mix of revulsion and desire.

He hadn't felt that Drive like some of his battle brothers, thus he didn't give much thought to Baseline standards of beauty. Not until coming here, and not until meeting You. 

And in the candlelight you looked so...wonderful. Reminding him of a place that was Warm and Safe, something even a creature as fierce as him had hardly known. 

He looks at your skin that's been kissed by the sun over your farm, and he remembers how you'd felt in his arms. Like his own personal sun, one that didn't burn his eyes or skin but filled him with a tender warmth all the same, as well as a burning hunger and want. The want to hold, to keep, to protect. Maybe that's why his battle brothers took their serfs?

Because bright, sweet things; things that bring laughter and joy and hope don't live long in this hellhole.

Without thinking he reaches a hand across the table, palm up. You glance up from your menu as you notice his gesture. 

You seem unsure for a moment, before smiling, and wordlessly placing your hand on his, instead of directly taking it, you begin drawing soft circles on the smooth skin of his palm with the pads of your fingers. Yet again, you've surprised him, and yet again, he doesn't mind at all. A moment passes before either of you speak. 

"There is something I need to talk to you about." You state, now running your warm small fingers over Khopesh's much larger ones. "But for now, let's enjoy the moment. Honesty can come after food. You ready to order?"

It is then Khopesh realizes he'd gotten utterly distracted and quickly picks up his menu with an "Oop!"

You chuckle. "Well we'll flag down our waiter for appetizers in a moment. I think I'll get some Roulette Dumplings for myself, and some Scallion Pancakes for you."

Khopesh smiled, and you could see him brimming with excitement. 

"But if you steal all the pancakes again I Will run out of this restaurant." You threaten cheekily. 

"You wouldn't!" Khopesh gasped with mock fear. 

"I would." You shoot back. Causing both of you to laugh. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It takes multiple Hours of Diligent review, but Hura and Anrir find the paperwork they'd been searching for.

The folder has a picture attached to the front, and indeed it appears to be Khopesh's Lullaby. Anrir thumbs through the reports page by page. 

It holds Lullaby's personal details, and the accounts and evidence collected from several space marines who were present at the time of the initial attack. Including several loyalist White Scars, the Death Guard Xerxes, and a Renegade Iron Warrior. 

Fascinating. An injury imparted to one Baseline spurred multiple factions into cooperation. Though he wasn't totally surprised, Lullaby seemed quite the sweet soul, and Astartes, however hardened they might be, seemed to have a soft spot in their programming for such things. 

At least...Anrir liked to believe most of them did. (That they were better than the slavish dogs of war they'd been bred for.) And indeed he felt his hands clench and his lip curl at the description he read. 

One of the Emperor's Golden Elite, a Custodes, committed this act. The Emperor who created them to be beacons and vanguards for humanity. It seems this Custodian had forgotten their place and purpose. 

He grimaced as he looked over the pictures taken, the painful looking bruises around Lullaby's neck as they laid in a hospital bed, about how the intervention of Xerxes with his...carrion wasps (Anrir suppressed a shudder.) had saved their life, and the months of painful rehabilitation they'd had to go through as was documented. Thinking back, he had an idea of the Hunt Khopesh was planning to ask for. And more importantly, his own overcrowded memory was coming back to him. 

"I know why I recognized them." He mutters under his breath. "They were in and out of the Loyalist clinic, I saw them in passing a handful of times."

"To think they had survived an encounter with a Custodes. They truly must be a lucky soul…" Anrir mused. 

Hura sighed. "I was brought in to help in their care and recovery, given my Expansive resume of experience." Hura laughed almost scornfully. "And I was Sworn to secrecy, the alliance didn't want to deal with the risk of hunting a custodes, nor the backlash they'd receive for Not calling a hunt on an attempted human killer."

"So they buried the whole damn business. Typical!" Karlsor remarked, peeking his head in. 

Anrir nodded, but that still left one thing unknown. "Not to dismiss your capabilities, but why only You for the overseeing apothecary?"

Hura smiled wryly. "Less bodies, means less lips to worry about sealing. Besides...if you check the dates I think you'll recall you were...out of town when the attack occurred?"

Anrir ran a quick swipe over his memories, true he often went on...business trips of different sorts. "Ah right." Indeed, at the time, he and his sons were taking a small trip to rectify the presence of a human trafficking den in a township nearby.

He'd found some excellent supplies in the process. Too bad he couldn't make the former owners of the place Really Beg for the mercy of the grave. 

Ah well, only so much time in a day. Anrir continued to read. The report further described the presence of a Normal Broken Bond as described by an Ultramarine librarian who examined Lullaby as they lay stable but unconscious after their trauma. 

And though not every visit, they also had their bond examined multiple times. The appearance was the same, snapped vines that were slowly desicating away. 

Perhaps Too slowly…

"Hura, what is the average time for a broken bond to wither away?"

Hura hummed thoughtfully. "Weaker bonds can resolve in a matter of days, for those of moderate strength and age, a few weeks. As for intense bonds…" Hura trailed off. 

Ah yes, one of the more...disturbing sides of this bizarre gift they'd all received. He recalled the first time he'd had Karlsor use his warp sight on a Space Marine who'd lost their intense bond, as the restrained War Hound thrashed and howled in agony. 

He couldn't see it himself, but he'll never forget seeing his son's face go even more pale. 

"It's fucking Strangling his soul." Karlsor swore. 

But back to the present. Intense bonds Could indeed stay longer, but they hadn't the chance to examine their appearance on humans. And without the Custodes present, there was no way of knowing if their side of the bond held those characteristics. 

But still, Anrir cleared his throat. "Well, it does appear my questions have been answered. There's no evidence you Or your Brother played a hand in this bond mutation. But now we must still ask "Why?"

"And what the heck do we do about it?" Karlsor piped up. 

Wait a minute. 

Anrir turned sharply to 'Karlsor'. "What...did you just say?"

'Karlsor' stood there for a moment. "I...ah...I said What the Fuckin heck do we do about it?" He stammered a bit. 

"Hey! You old fucks even halfway fucking done in there or do I need to plan on getting a new fucking bolt after we get the fuck outta here!?" A voice shouted from down the hall just past the door with the knock lock. 

Anrir bristled. "IMPOSTER!" He snarled, lunging and pinning the interloper to the nearest wall. Hura simply stood back, arms crossed and shaking his head. 

"You Really couldn't help yourself, could you?" He sighed, Anrir was confused, until the squirming Bastard wearing his son's face sighed and relented. 

Dark blue became teal, and the pale scarred face took on a more olive tone, with bright teal eyes. 

"Who are you? And if you even fucking Think about Saying Alpharius, I will start with your teeth and won't stop until I've plucked out Each and Every One of your bones!" Anrir snarled, before Hura put a tempering hand on his shoulder. 

"Relax Anrir, I know this one." Hura soothed. He turned to the Hydra and said very sternly, "Zariel…"

The Hydra sighed before acquiescing. "I saw your little family gathering and became curious myself. So I figured...what the hell? Might as well use the fact Alpha Legion helped design this space to my advantage." He shrugged. 

Anrir groaned, but did not release the pesky teal bastard. "How did you get past Karlsor?" He demanded. 

"I didn't, I figured Hura would bring you here eventually, so I got here ahead of you and decided to camp out in one of the other rooms after locating the file." Zariel shrugged. "Honestly, having a third person made it easier for me as I didn't have to worry about only approaching while the two of you were separated."

Karlsor sends Anrir a message [Oi- old man, you asleep in the hell that is paperwork?]

[I and Hura are still awake.] Anrir responds. [Just dealing with a sneaky Hydra.]

[Those fuckers!] Karlsor responds [Need back up?]

[Not yet, Hura and I have the situation handled for you.] Anrir responds.

[Let me know if you need some Psychic muscle Anrir.] Karlsor replies.

[Oh, I will.] Anrir responds.

Anrir focuses on the conversation between this ‘Zariel’ and Hura tilting his head and keeping the Hydra pinned against the wall. For now at least. One should always try to have the upper hand with the sneaky buggers.

“You should have said something or texted,” Hura says with a disappointed sigh and shakes his head. “You are lucky that I was here and that Anrir has yet to take more hostile, understandably so action with this grox shite that you pulled, Hydra.”

“Yes, but this way is more entertaining,” Zariel argues with a huff. Then he winces a little when Anrir pushes into him a little bit. “Could you let me up? I’m here to help. The Primaris Ducklings are also partially under my protection and care too.”

“Still, why are you here?” Hura asks Zariel as he strides closer to him.

Zariel shifts a little and huffs as he says that, “I couldn't help myself, we hydras love secrets and he's willing to share.”

“We who?” Hura asks, narrowing his eyes, “is your squad nearby?”

“They know where I am,” Zariel says, but they aren’t in these rooms, “So if you or Anrir, or someone else try to disappear me they’ll know who to go after and where.”

The file details many different things, more on the details of Lullaby's injuries and treatment. And that even at their last check up they were secretly looked at by a librarian. The bond was taking a While to wither, but it was withering!

Zariel points out, gesturing to one of the Librarian's latest reports, dated two weeks ago at a clinic in their hometown, “There is no sign of the decay Jophiel saw.”

“It’s… could it be a whole new bond type and … could Lullaby possibly be a nascent Psyker? Developing amidst the Baseline populace?” Hura muses.

“What a discovery!” Anrir proclaims as his eyes gleam brightly, fogging over with ideas of what this could mean. Anrir pauses as he thinks over the potential implications and says out loud, almost offhandedly, “ But...if the bond is altered...that could also mean. Ah. I wonder if Lullaby may not be able to form a permanent bond ever again.”

Zariel and Hura are quiet as they ponder those implications and Hura pipes up saying “Lullaby needs to be told. About their potential Psykery, and about the possibility of them not being able to permanently Bond with another.”

“I agree,” Zariel says, as he knows about the nature of various brothers and cousins and says warningly, “They're the patient and if they shock a less friendly space marine and that marine realizes what they are, they could be taken hostage.”

The trio of Space Marines look at each other at that. Some of their brothers and cousins could get highly reactive about certain things. And the reactions they could have were as diverse as the galaxy is.

“... I think telling Lullaby that they have an unviable bond, and that it is so unusual and mutated is… important, it could be affecting their health, be it physical, mental, emotional, psychically or in their soul, but we won’t know until we investigate more.” Hura says with a grim expression on his face.

“I will tell Khopesh he needs to bring them back to base,” Anrir says, “After their date is over to speak with them.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Hura says with a nod. “Don’t want to worry the younglings too much, but it’s important, too important to let it wait too long.”

The three of them are quiet, a somber heavy feeling curling around the three of them. Anrir slowly lets go of Zariel as they ponder what the next steps are to do. Zariel grabs the documents in Lullaby’s file and makes sure they are in proper order.

“Also, I was here to add in more of the falsified documentation and do more of the safety rotation and cipher changing,” Zariel tells them.

He’d gone into these archives for multiple reasons, some of them more legitimate and than others. While his fellow Hydra’s would understand because of curiosity and having a nose for Interview and how curious and strange certain reactions were, most others not of the lineage of the Hydra got terribly annoyed with that answer for some reason.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The waiter came back with a platter piled high with their appetizers and drink orders. He set down the plates of steaming hot food. The smell of it makes your mouth water and the way that it glistens in the low light just enhances the delight as your stomach rumbles as the appetizer plates are set down, and then the sharing plates. The dipping sauces and the drinks.

The waiter asks if they have decided on their dinner, or if they want him to come back in a bit. You've decided on the spicy ramen and tell the waiter as much. 

“Alright, I Must warn you though the highest spice level is more for Astartes, below that is what would be considered very hot for humans, then moderate, and then mild. Which level would you prefer?”

You thought it over. “I'll take it human moderate please.” You eventually settle on, handing the waiter your menu. 

“I’ll have it hot and spicy!” Khopesh says with a grin, “Astartes level hot!”

“... Khopesh,” You say, “are you sure you want to do that?”

“That sounds like a challenge Lullaby, and I don't back down from challenges!” Khopesh declared confidently, “Besides! You seem to like it so I'm sure I will as well.”

“Okay…if you're certain.” You reply with a shrug, deciding to grab and eat one of the Roulette dumplings, and a scallion pancake. 

You bit into the innocuous looking dumpling and hummed at the burst of spicy flavor. “Hm! Hot one on the first try!” You smiled, dipping the remainder in sauce and eating it. 

“Excuse me?” Khopesh asked, grabbing his own appetizers. 

“Oh that's what the Roulette Dumplings are, look.” You grabbed another dumpling and took a taste. A savory and sour flavor followed. “There are three flavors; spicy, sour and regular. It's a gamble what you get with every one you eat.”

Khopesh seemed legitimately intrigued, he picked up one and examined it, before tentatively popping it into his mouth. “Hm!”

That…that wasn't what he was expecting. It started out like a simple prick of sensation on his tongue, then it grew warmer spreading over his mouth, then it was Hot. It left his mouth tingling unpleasantly, even if the flavor was savory and good he-

“You doing alright over there?” You asked, noting the reddening of Khopesh's face.

The Night lord broke from his pain to shoot you a scowl, before he swallowed quickly so the burning morsel no longer sat on his tongue. It left an itchy staticky aftertaste falling down his throat. 

“Ulp! Fine, I am Fine.” He replied, rolling his mouth and tongue a bit as if trying to shake off the lingering taste. “See?? I can handle this Astarte Spice just fine!” He huffed, crossing his arms defiantly. 

“Khopesh, those were regular spicy.”

“-!” You saw him flinch. But before either of you could speak further…

“And here's two ramen bowls! One Moderate Spicy and the Other We have Salamander Spicy! Enjoy!” The waiter delivered your meal items cheerfully, and was gone almost as fast. 

Khopesh started down at the steaming bowl, and he could Feel the spice and the heat and the Hell that awaited his mouth. He felt it in every inhale. 

“Khopesh…you don't have to.” You started.

The Night lord turned his eyes sharply to you. “I will not be Cowed by a bowl of Soup and Noodles!” He declared, frustratedly picking up his utensils. “I Will enjoy it, just as you do.”

Fine! Just let him hurt himself. Fool won't fuckin listen anyway. You rolled your eyes. 

No…no, you're not gonna just stand by. 

“Khopesh…”

“Silence!” Khopesh snarled, focused on his bowl. “Do not try and stop m-”

Khopesh found himself cut off by a much smaller hand coming to grasp his own harshly. He looked up and what he saw Actually made him take notice.

You looked Pissed. Not unraveled but very much in line with; ‘Okay now the angry bitch is coming out’ as his Muti would say. 

“First of all,” You growled back with a convincing level of menace for your size. “Never, tell me to Silence, myself again. And if you even Think about laughing, I will walk out of here and leave your ass in a heartbeat. Do not play games, and Do Not talk down to me.”

Well he was somewhat at a loss for words. Seeing you like this Was kinda hot, good hot not hell hot, but also you might get more mad if he mentions that. 

Still holding his utensil hand hostage you pick up a spoon from your own side, gather some of your own broth, and hold it out to him. 

“Try mine first. Before you decide to hurt yourself to prove some dumbshit point for pride.” You insisted.

Khopesh looked at your spoon, and could smell the similar but Much less threatening aromas coming off it. He allowed you to feed him, halfway between confused and entranced. 

Until the spicy hit him even harder than the dumpling had and he reared back. “Mmp! Mmmmmuhhg Alck kkkkh!” In all his decades and battles and hardships (scrounging for rats and bugs in the gutters of Nostramo, looting and cooking corpses just to keep himself fed one more day-) he had Never been subject to a (not really flavor more like a) food sensation that repulsed him more. 

“See?” You prompted the Nightlord, who was now gulping down his drink to get rid of the bad pain hot sensation in his mouth. 

“By Curze that is Awful!” He gasped. 

You shrugged. “It's not for everyone. But then again hardly anything is.” You reply, taking a mouthful from your own soup. 

Khopesh slumped dejectedly, looking at his now cooler but still Evil bowl of hell soup. He couldn't eat this. 

“Let's go ahead and order something else.” You propose. “Something you'll like more.”

“But I wanted to eat the same thing as You.” Khopesh replied sullenly. He wanted it to be like you were sharing the same meal. Like he'd provided for both of you. “I couldn't do a proper game hunt on such short notice…I was hoping this could be similar. And that we could have more in common with the foods we like.” He explained when you looked confused. 

“ …Why? You know we don't have to be doing the exact same thing or Like the same exact things to enjoy eachothers company right?”

Khopesh glanced up, instead of frustration he saw…softness. “Khopesh. I like being here with you. Heck I'm still blown away someone as powerful and capable as you even Likes My company.”

Khopesh wanted to push you further on that point, but you continued before he could. 

“I enjoy our time together because we're different, not in spite of it. I love learning about all the little things that make you, You. And I love them just the same if they end up being the same as me, similar to me, or radically different to me.” You explain further, scratching the back of your neck as you felt the blush creep up it with the pseudo confession you'd just given. 

Well at least you weren't the only one. Khopesh had a vaguely surprised expression on his gaunt face, and a blush to boot. It was cute. 

“I guess what I mean to say is…I’m glad I get to spend time with you.” You state simply. “Although saying that, there is one thing…one conversation we Need to have before moving forward.” You place your utensils down and take a steadying breath. Now or never.

Khopesh leaned in. “I am listening.”

You nodded. “I've been thinking it over, and I Think I finally understand what my nightmares have been trying to tell me.”

Khopesh cocked an eyebrow. “You have the gift of prophecy??”

You shook your head. “Ah no. No. Not quite. Just self awareness.” You reply, then continue. “I had another Nightmare before coming here and…in that dream, you saved me from…a threat.” You chose your words very carefully, and subconsciously brushed your hand over your neck. 

Khopesh seemed agreeable to that. Yes of Course he would protect you from Anything. Can you protect them from yourself though? An nagging voice needled at him which he Firmly brushed aside. 

“But in the next part of the dream you ah…Reached Into my chest, and…ripped my heart out.” Well there wasn't any much Nicer a way to put it; Khopesh still looked horrified. 

“Are you saying you think I'd-” But you held up a hand to stop him. 

“Please, let me finish,” You pleaded, and though clearly dissatisfied Khopesh relented. “I…I adore you, Khopesh, I think I might even Love you.”

“But even though what happened to me before wasn't your fault, wasn't in anyway even Involved with you…It still left it's mark, mentally and physically.” More neck rubbing. You continued. “I think the dreams are telling me that what I fear most, is being hurt again. And the way I see it, there's two ways that could happen with you.”

“If there comes a time I can no longer surprise you…or excite you or even just…Amuse you…I’m afraid you'll throw me away…” You say quietly. 

“Or if there comes a day where, for whatever reason, I want to leave…that you won't let me.” You bring your eyes back to the Nightlord who is sitting stock still in front of you. 

His pale features are still lit with candlelight, still beautiful and haunting as ever. The rest of the noise in the background seems to fade away. 

“I Need to know…that if one day this ends. Whether it's you, or Me who decides to walk away. For whatever reason. That you'll let me.” You say solemnly. “I don't want to go down this road if I'll just end up where I was before. Broken and discarded because…because someone with strength and power over me that I could never hope to match, decides that my life and my being as a person isn't…isn't worthy to l-live.” You state, feeling yourself beginning to choke up. 

Not even worth a backwards glance. You weren't even worth a backwards glance. Unworthy to Live, Unworthy to Love! unworthy, Unworthy, UNWORTHY!

“Lullaby,” Now you felt a large cool hand reach for your own. The one that was scratching at you neck. You glance up to see Khopesh reaching over the table, his expression a mix of concerned and confused. “You're afraid.”

You couldn't help yourself, you leaned into the cool hand pressing to your face now and let out a giggle that was more sob than laughter. “T-that part is obvious.” You snort. “I just…” You gestured vaguely. “I want this to be a Choice for both of us, not an Obligation. I want us to both Choose to see where this goes. And if it doesn't work out then…we can both walk away safe. Can we…can we do that? Please?” You asked, more plaintive and less confident. 

Khopesh hesitated, of all things he did not expect…this. To see you so vulnerable, he had once before but this felt so much more Raw, since you'd chosen to show him this. 

Not to mention…the things you spoke of, he was entirely unfamiliar with. No serf would Ever dare bring these kinds of words to their Night lord…but…could he Really say your relationship had anything in common with the ones he'd seen in his own timeline? It was only then he realized he had so little to work off of. 

We could agree, a voice inside him purred, but not Truly. Pull them into our web so they can never leave. Make them believe it is their choice. They'll be so Happy to have all that dreadful stress off their shoulders. They'll never Actually want to leave. The voice sounds almost more like Anrir than himself, and while part of him is disturbed the other Desires. 

Another comes. What is even the Fucking point of this shit if there isn't Trust? You're a Night lord, we don't deal in honestly but we're not Fucking hypocrites either! That thought hurts and it's because it's true. 

Don't they deserve to feel safe? A softer thought chimes in. It's unusual but they seem to Really want this. What's the harm?

The harm is that if we allow this they could come to harm! A rougher voice shoots back. They belong safe in Our arms, why are we even entertaining-

“Khopesh?” The Nightlord is brought back to the present, and at once he is caught by your eyes. Pleading, unsure, fearful but most of all…

Hopeful. They are full of a Hope that Khopesh had long thought was beyond his kind seeing. Night lords did not inspire hope. The moment it was realized What the were, and Who they Were, all softness turned to fear and ice. 

But not you. You looked at him like he could be more than a monster...

Like he could make you feel safe, and loved

Like he could be… a hero…Your hero.

A clear voice comes next. His Vada You take good care of ‘em then.

Khopesh felt the coils of his muscles and the breath held in his lungs release. You still waited with baited breath. 

“I…” Fuck Curze dammit where does he Even start. “I was not…prepared for this I…I am…not sure what to say…” He lets out a low huff. He doesn't like being caught so out of his element.

He thinks back on your words. “I…adore the time I have had with you as well. And I won't lie, I Loathe, the thought of losing you…” He could feel a guttural snarl building up but he tamped it Down. 

“But if…having this promise between us would make you feel safe and…Happy…then I will…Agree…” He stated, still struggling a bit to get the words out, even having to close his eyes and grit his teeth as he did. 

Snff, hiccup He reopened his dark eyes to see you…crying?

Oh sweet hell what now- but before he could complete that thought you'd sprung up, come around the table and launch yourself into his arms with a cry of “Khoopeeeesh!” 

Khopesh let out a surprised “-ooF!” Though the impact wasn't anything he couldn't handle. “Lullaby what are you mMph!”

A little of that spicy bad sensation came back, but This time it was outside his mouth And it was because you were pressing your lips to his in a Firm kiss. The small flickers of displeasure from the spicy, and the feeling of unease from the strange new arrangement he'd just agreed to…all faded to a near imperceptible hum as he found himself utterly melting into your kiss. 

“Mwah,” You pulled back, but still gripped him to you, or yourself to him. Feeling again like a miniature sun, sharing your warmth with eagerness and snuggling up to and kissing him all over his face with gusto. 

“Ah so…are you, Pleased- with my phrasing?” He asked tentatively, okay now he was Really liking this. 

“Yes! You Dork!” You laughed, tilting your forehead so it rested against his. You stayed like that for a moment, just enjoying the physical touch. “That is Exactly what I needed to hear.”

Khopesh felt his chest swell with warmth. Okay…he could do this. 

“Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr,” You felt the Nightlord you were still embracing start to vibrate with purrs. 

“Ah…you folks doing okay?”

(!) Both of you jolted at the awkward interjection by your waiter. Really wishing you'd gotten a table fully in the back corner at this point. (It was still further back and most people were still engrossed in their own food and conversations so…)

“Ah sorry!” You scrambled to pull yourself into a more dignified position, now realizing you'd been essentially kneeling on the space of the booth that Khopesh wasn't occupying, and latching onto him like a lamprey. 

“Lullaby…” You looked up to see Khopesh looked disappointed? Pouty he straight up looked pouty that you were trying to move. 

You let your embarrassment pass, and your heart melted all over again. “Here, let's do this.” You slotted yourself in so you were both sitting, right up next to your Nightlord, just like when you'd walked over. Khopesh smiled and wrapped his arm around you, nuzzling the top of your head. 

You turned back to the waiter. “We'll need a takeout box for this, and My partner,” You say the word full of new pride and confidence. “Would prefer something else.” You explain, gesturing to the hell ramen. 

The waiter smiled, still a little awkwardly but nodded. “Ah of course, I'll get right on that.” They also took a new order for Khopesh, who decided on the Egg Foo Young. 

“Wait…I thought you didn't want to eat something this spicy?” Khopesh asked as the waiter walked off. 

You shrugged. “One bite probably won't kill me. Besides, if I can't eat it I'll just let it spoil, then Xerxes can eat it. So either way, it won't be wasted.”

Khopesh smiled, and you returned to you less…emotionally taxing conversations. Now snuggled up close, with the stress and the fear and the awful voices dim in your mind. 

As you waited for Khopesh's proper order. You both nibbled on the Scallion pancakes and the Roulette dumplings; you consuming the spicy and passing the other ones to him. He actually quite enjoyed the sour variety. Even if his description of them was slightly…disturbing.

“The sour tinge reminds me of cooked rotten flesh, but without any actual rot.” 

How were you supposed to respond to that?? “Well…glad to hear a restaurant's food doesn't have any rot in it. What would the health department say?” You reply jokingly, which causes Khopesh to laugh. 

As Khopesh's proper food order was dropped off and you both resumed eating your entrees, you both heard a familiar Ping. Khopesh reacted to the sudden sound by glancing at his vox. 

[Khopesh, return to base as soon as you are able, and bring Lullaby. It is important.] The message is from Anrir, and it makes Khopesh feel both curiosity and concern.

“What's wrong?” You ask, not being able to see the message yourself. 

“Anrir wants us back at the base for some reason.” Khopesh replies, his tone conveying his unsureness with the situation. 

“I wonder why,” you reply a little nervously, “it could be for… not ominous reasons.”

“Not sure,” Khopesh replies, “... I hope we can end this on a positive note.”

Even if he does wonder why Anrir had to send him a message that could be anxiety inducing. He thinks and reflects on his behavior and on his lovely Lullaby's behavior and he doesn't think either of them have done anything To warrant a Scolding.

“We won't know until we see him,” You say, “so let's enjoy our time together and walk back. Yeah?”

Khopesh nods in response, pulling you just a bit closer with a low purr. “Yeah…I'm sure its nothing Too serious.”

[husband-steve-cortez]

Muscles