[ At first, the only answer that question prompts is the short sound of an indulgent laugh. ]
My sweet Archmage, [ Lucius says, the waver of teasing mirth at the edges of his voice, ] are you worried I'll forget which one is yours? [ Naturally, such an idea is ridiculous, and the humor of it settles into Lucius' fanged grin. His hand stills against the naked bone of Eridanus' hip, exploratory touch turning into something heavy and possessive as he replies, ] An Astartes has perfect recall. It's only natural that I do.
[ Statements that are true, but not wholly honest. He should recall every moment of his last eleven-thousand years with perfect precision, but his own memory has been worn away by the very blessing that Eridanus asks about now. It's a reality he has never quite admitted beyond the confines of his own skullāand, of course, he doesn't intend to start now. ]
[As laughter wafts between them, Eridanus shivers. His ears perk to the sound of it, overlong and seeking after that mellifluous sound. Lucius' claws bears down on his naked hip and rather than shying from the threat of sharpened tips, he shifts on the bedding to slot himself closer to his consort.]
I would not say that I am worried, per se... [Despite them, his words trail with a lack of confidence. Behind the jealous guard of his opal maw, his fangs bear down and worry his bottom lip as he continues to trace patterns in the textured surface of Lucius' skull.]
So many battles have been immortalized on your skin, [his fingers pause at the sunken pit of Lucius' ear, and his palm shifts to cup the man's cheek in a lover's hold,] how many of them have you died in? What was it like, to be revived by your God? Was it cold, like the Sea of Stars, or was the it the warm embrace of a parent with their child?
[ Those seeking ears are rewarded. Lucius huffs another low chuckle, amused by the naivety of such a question. ]
Are those the only possibilities you can imagine, dear Eridanus? [ His hand shifts in answer, the tip of his thumb's claw pricking at the dip of muscle and bone beneath it. ] I regret to inform you that it's neither. It is hot, like a bed of nails.
[ His smile grows across his face, but at its edges, it turns sharper than before. ]
In death, my fate is the same as any other pledged to the Prince of Pleasure: my soul is captured by His hands, where it exists as nothing more than His eternal plaything. The difference between myself and His less beloved devotees is that I am given a rope with which I may drag myself out.
[ His hand lifts, and in the space between them, he holds up a single finger. ]
A single flicker of the barest satisfaction is all I need. [ It's more than he usually gives away; after all, to reveal the true terms of the bargain is to expose its limitations. And yet, what does Lucius have to fear from his sweet, loyal Eridanus? ] Even an animal might feel it, should it come to that. It makes their soul burn like the furnace of a sun, and by that light, I am able drag myself from the muck of death.
[ A half-formed thought tickles at the back of his mind, not for the first time: What would happen if he instead allowed himself to sink? The same as ever, Lucius discards it as quickly as it comes. After all, there is little point to contemplating something which will never come to pass.
That great claw lowers, tracing again along the glittering tear-streak split through Eridanus' skin. ]
Each time, the prelude to rebirth stretches an unthinkable, torturous eternity. And yet, here I stand, risen and unbroken by a trial tasted by no other.
[Between clenched teeth, Eridanus sucks in a sharp breath as those claws shift across his skin. They trace the arch of bone and dip of muscle, and despite the fact that his skin has once more become the unforgiving density of stone, he swears he can almost feel them draw blood beneath their adulating weight. His gaze never leaves the visage of his Eternal despite them, though. Rather, he's content in watching how that lipless mouth delivers each syllable, carefully cradled by a serpentine tongue.
He imagines that painānails tearing through his flesh, flensing meat from bone until there is nothing left but a bare soul in all of its vulnerability before the eyes of oblivion. To claim such an experience as judgment would be silly, by the sound of it, as fate is decided for any who step into the realm of the Prince... unless that person is Lucius. Once more his lungs are breathless, crushed beneath the magnanimity of his consort's prowessāand in the space of that breathlessness, Eridanus finds his chest swell to bursting with adoration.
A smile splits his face behind the guard of his opal maw, and he turns his cheek into the hand that caresses it. A warmth just for him, he thinks, a pleasure meant only for the one who is Champion of a demi-god. In the cloistered space between them, Eridanus shifts so that he hooks his foot against the hock of Lucius' bull-leg.]
You are incredible, my love. [He whispers sweetly,] I am still virginal to the pleasures of damnation. I will not lie, it scares me. If only I could have a fraction of your courage...
[Eridanus pauses to lift one of his glittering, opal talons to trace incomplete patterns over the expanse of Lucius' chest.]
I wonder, then ā if the day we join our souls together ā will I, too, venture to see the Prince's realm? Will I enjoy that agony beside you, each and every time you are pulled down into the abyss? Just the thought of it is enough to shiver excitement down my spine...
And you are right to fear it. [ As the sweetness and awe in Eridanus' gaze enfolds him, his fingers press around the back of his consort's neck, clawed fingertips resting over the throbbing pulse in his jugular. Again, his thumb traces the opaline scar carved into the stony flesh of his cheek, as if it were a jewel to polish to gleaming. ] I don't envy the wretches that find it their permanent abode.
[ His return from death is a genuine perdition, to be sureāand his own chest swells with hot pride at the way Eridanus regards him with the wonder he deserves for it. If he were unable to bear it, he supposes he would no longer be worthy of shouldering Slaanesh's name; and yet, here he stands, unbent beneath a weight that would render most a far more pitiable sort of insane than he is.
Eridanus' question is a good one, and now that he thinks of it, Lucius isn't sure he knows the answer. He supposes they must remain tethered to him; after all, he has never lost a single soul on his deathly travels. And yet, every time he has made that journey, he has felt nothing but alone.
There is one exception, he supposes, but that is only because he does not truly recall it. ]
But I have experienced the cold nothingness you spoke of as well. [ His aggrandized smile dims, only a shadow of it remaining at the edges of his mouth. ] After my first taste of death, there was simply blackness until I woke up upon an apothecarion slab.
[ Even now, when he thinks of it, he wonders: was that void where Slaanesh first laid His mark upon his soul? The moment where it had seemed that death simply hadn't wanted himāhad that been a recognition of his promise? The expression that settles across his visage appears more contemplative than it is flattered by the thought. ]
[Nothingness is certainly what Eridanus' expected and yet, from that spot where he floated amongst the sea of fellow souls, it was as if he had been dreaming lucidly. As if his mind, while cradled by stardust, had been both aware of everything on the peninsula and lost within that liminal space at once. It was an odd, hellish limboāone that only made him yearn for his inevitable return to Lucius' side.
Perhaps that had been the source of his prior angerāas his consort had subjected him to a fate, in many ways, worse than the cage he had held months ago in the circus.
But those thoughts are quickly dismissed by the over-warmth of Lucius demonic form and the possessive touch that cradles his cheek once more. In the comfort of that space that feels more private than the entirety of their bedroom, Eridanus leans into the touch as if he were seeking water in a drought. Large fingers easily cup the entirety of his head, and in that monstrous palm, Eridanus has never felt so comfortable.]
Were you brought back medically? [Eridanus takes a breath, and with it, his eyes open by mere fractions. He turns his heavy-lidded gaze upwards, but he doesn't relent from nudging his cheek into that hand like a indulging pet.] I assume apothecary carries the same meaning in your world as it does in mine.
I should have been ā but the apothecary seemed just as surprised to see my on my feet again as I was. [ He rubs the base of his thumb along the glittering opal of Eridanus' jaw, his own eyes unfocused on the loving gaze before him. Instead, their stare is distant, locked on memories that dance just beyond sight. ] Fabius was a loathsome man even then, but he had brought lesser men back from worse injuries before me. If it were as simple as resuscitation...
[ He trails off, and when he speaks again, that half-completed thought has apparently gone forgotten. ]
I awoke to the heat of an inferno. [ It's good to tell such stories from time-to-time, he thinks; whatever effect the touch of death has had on him, this way, he won't forget them. ] He'd lost control of one of his experiments, and it had interrupted him before he could do whatever it is he intended for my corpse. And yet, I sat up as good as new, without even the lingering weakness that had plagued Lord-Commander Eidolon after his medical revival.
[ Granted, Eidolon had been decapitated. There was certainly a difference in the scale of their injuries. Nonethelessā
His eyes refocus, and suddenly, he is smiling again. ]
You might say that I, too, was reborn as a phoenix: birthed from the darkness in flames.
[Thoughtlessly, Eridanus reaches a hand up to cup the back of the paw that holds his chin. His own gaze remains transfixed on Lucius, even as his consort's eyes dim with distant memory. In that moment, he would wish for the ability to gaze into those soulful eyes and see as he seesāand in the moment, he finds himself jealous of the ability of his Eternal: consuming the memories of his beloved.
But the thought it pushed away, for there isn't a use for senseless pining. In a way, it's just as well to learn such events from the lips of the man himself. He wonders, then, just how entwined their fates are when such coincidences happen time and again. His claws dig into Lucius' hand, not with intent to harm him, but with the desire to keep him close. To anchor him here, in the present, with him.]
However it happened, I am thankful for it. [His voice is soft, thoughtful, and he turns his head in that grip on his jaw to press a kiss to the pad of Lucius' thumb.] Were it not for your beautiful rebirth, I hate to think of a reality in which we would not have met. One stumble in time and space, and our paths would have completely missed one another...
[He pauses though, with his gaze returning upward.]
This Fabius and Eidolon... they are your legion-brothers?
Haven't I told you already, my Eridanus? Fate moves neither a moment too early nor too late.
[ Is the thought intended to put a stop to his own introspecting on the thousand ways the two of them might have passed each other by, and therefore his own attachment? Perhaps! But it has done its job, so far, and with that kiss accepted, Lucius' thumb drops below Eridanus' chin. Tipping his head just so, Lucius bows his face nearer, the very tip of his forked and serpentine tongue passing between his teeth as the gap between their mouths begins to once again shrink. ]
They are, [ Lucius answers, but now his thoughts would seem to be the oppositeāeyes trained keenly on Eridanus' face, with the words that leave his mouth little more than an afterthought. ] What of them? They're both repulsive in their own right, and after your ordeal, I would think you'd rather spend your time on more pleasant things.
[Eridanus takes a breath, and as Lucius' face draws nearer, his own gaze goes heavy-lidded in a half expectation that his mouth will be claimed once more. It doesn't though, and with just the ghosting flick of a forked tongue at his maw, Eridanus exhales a hot sigh in that cloistered space. Anticipation seems to twist his gut persistently, and just the thrill of what he cannot expect of his consort has him inching ever closer into the warmth of his overlarge form.
Their conversation turns though, by his own lead, and Eridanus has to draw his mind back into a space where it isn't occupied with his ever-present veneration of Lucius. Instead, he busies himself with the shy touch of his own opaline claws over the fat wrist of the hand that holds him.]
For you to despise them so much... they truly must've done something to earn your ire. [For as short a time as Eridanus has known him, he knows that Lucius is not a man to easily hold grudges over petty squabbles.] Unless you don't wish to speak of it... even the unpleasant things ā I wish to know everything about you, my Beloved.
[ Lucius barks with laughter, as though Eridanus has said something truly funny. He doesn't know anyone else who would assume his long-held grudges must have been nursed with good reasonābut he supposes that is why Eridanus is his favorite of all, isn't it?
That sweet entreaty makes his heart beat quicker in his chestālike the heart of a wolf scenting the blood of a defenseless fawn. There isn't much room to draw Eridanus nearer to his flesh anymore, and his consort is already held well within his grip; instead, he moves, that bullish leg shifting free to hook Eridanus' form within its embrace instead. Great weight pinning the stony shape of that body beneath him, Lucius' tongue slithers longer, teasing along the column of his throat insteadāas if he might simply repeat the experience of Felfri and devour him whole. ]
You ought to be careful what you wish for ā one day, it just might be granted. [ Still, his breath is hot with that shared desire to become completely intertwined as he purrs, ] Bile's crimes are too many and odious to speak of. But, the good Lord-Commander... He is guilty of the worst transgression of all: thinking he could compete with me for our primarch's favor!
[ He laughs, because of course, the idea that Eidolon could be as worthy of the Phoenician's attention as himself is as great a joke as any. ]
[The weight of that leg settles over him with possessive need, and as it does, Eridanus only seems to relax beneath it as if it brought with it the comfort of nostalgia. To watch his Eternal from under his grip, under his ownership, flutters his heart like the beating of a hummingbird's wings in his breast. He swallows, and his tongue suddenly feels too big for his mouth as his reverent gaze follows the sharp curve of Lucius' grin. And his laugh, the way it washes across his skin, shivers fawning affection through him.
A part of him wishes to argue with those teasing wordsāthat there is no cruel memory, no possible event of his lover's past that would mar the adoration he holds for him. He doesn't as the words that follow distract him from voicing that fondness he holds so fervently, and instead he draws his claw-tipped touch across the expanse of corded muscle that wraps Lucius' forearm.]
Even without your primarch's favor, to compare himself to the Eternal at all... what a fool's errand he endeavored. [Eridanus hums in response, his gaze dropping as his touch ventures higher, over the strong curve of Lucius' bicepājust another show of his prowess with the sword.] You can never compare dirt to gold, and yet... moth larvae will always gaze upon the beauty of the butterfly, and yearn to share their destiny. Won't they?
Oh, they do more than yearn to be an equal. They look to the butterfly in envy, craving to surpass it in the only way they are capable: by dragging it back down into the dirt.
[ Lucius feels that adoring touch, but he doesn't answer it. Atop Eridanus, his body remains still and heavyāthe peaceful repose of a predator at rest. ]
That was Eidolon's trouble. Would it amuse you to learn that once upon a time, I served under his command? [ It certainly seems to amuse Lucius, the sound of his laughter fluttering through the air between them. ] Even so, he felt threatened by how swift my star was in its ascent. Too bad for him that he wasn't able to stop it from eclipsing his own.
[For all that Eridanus knows Lucius to be, and for what he seems to say, he finds it hard to believe that this Eidolon was ever in a position of power in the first place. Still, he draws his adoring touch over the firm shoulder before him, until the bite of his opal claws trails red welts down over the curve of his broad chest.]
It sounds as if there is a crescendo you are leaving out, my beloved.
[Eridanus chuckles, the sound a soft and airy interlude to the fluttering gust that had claimed the space between them. His touch follows the same path it had carved beforeāreverently tracing up Lucius' arm, then shoulder, then down across his chest.]
Did you see to this Eidolon's descent yourself? Or was he merely the dirt beneath your boot, too miniscule to warrant your active part in his demise?
I didn't need to see to anything. He was far too eager to do it to himself.
[ He doesn't laugh, but cruel mirth curls his thin lips all the same. His eyes fall half-lidded with itāor perhaps with that dagger-clawed touch, Lucius' teeth parting wide enough for a hot sigh to escape between the cage of their enamel. ]
Far be it from me to call anyone else overweening, but the simple fact of the matter is that his reach exceeded his grasp. [ One of his own claws teases at Eridanus' upper lip, hooking beneath the thin scar long ago etched into its skin before it skims away once more. ] Eidolon was a man so hungry for glory that he would bungle a golden opportunity in the pursuit of it, and then blame the man who handed it to him for shining brighter in the primarch's eyes after.
[ He speaks of himself, of course, and his smile pulls broader with the memory whether he realizes it or not. ]
It's nearly enough to make a man question Fulgrim's judgment in ordering Fabius to reattach his head. But, I suppose he did have a role to play in our father's apotheosis.
[Eridanus parrots back, his attention wholly captivated. The claw that had drawn adulating forms over the expanse of Lucius' naked chest halts, and as his gaze bores into that of his Eternal, he looks as if he's a child waiting to hear some magical story.]
It sounds like much as happened with this Eidolon, [he chuckles, the sound of bubbling amusement,] and did his bungled opportunity result in him losing his head? Or was it a separate event entirely?
[He should likely ask for one story at a time, but he's enthralled, and it's apparent. Eridanus wiggles beneath Lucius' form, saddling closer as if it were possible, with his budding anticipation clearly worn on his expression.]
And all of it is ancient history, [ he laughsābut, of course, the fawning attention is all he needs to speak on it regardless. ]
They are separate incidents, though both date back to the Warmaster's rebellion ā some ten or eleven thousand years ago. I wonder, dear Archmage: have you ever wondered about the Emperor the IIIrd Legion was named for?
[ His lips curl with the humor of a man about to tell what he believes is the funniest joke anyone has ever heard. ]
[Eridanus' head shifts in its cradle, laid comfortably in the crook of Lucius' elbow. His cheek rubs against the twisted skin of his lover's arm, the mottled opal that leads into his maw disrupting the sensation of warmth against his face. His gaze, however, remains raised in its veneration of the form above himāespecially with such an obvious hook left dangling in the space between them.]
Tell me, my Lord.
[He breathes the words, his voice a soft whisper as he anticipates Lucius' next revelation.]
Tell me of this Emperor... is he the one you rebelled against?
Precisely so, [ he purrs, pleased, and the breath that trails that answer is nothing so much as a sigh of fond nostalgia. ] And not just us. We were led by the Warmaster himself: Horus Lupercal, Primarch of the XVIth Legion, and favored son of the Emperor of Mankind himself.
[ Of course, the Warmaster led them to failure and nothing moreābut for the purposes of this story, that's beside the point. The irony is pleasing nonetheless: that the Emperor's favorite son would lead his Legion against his father, and bring the aptly named Emperor's Children with him. ]
A full half of the Emperor's Legions broke their leash and mustered against him alongside us. But, of course, not all of our brothers were so eager for freedom. [ Like a ripple in a pond's reflection, his smile distorts on his lips. Again, his gaze turns distant and dim. ] Too many of them were unable to see beyond the devotion we had been brainwashed to feel, as part of out elevation to the ranks of the Astartes.
The Emperor's Children unable to break the shackles of our hypno-indoctrination would never follow our father in glorious rebellion. And so, Fulgrim purged the blind from our ranks. [ Lucius brightens again, as if he's reached another funny joke. ] Would you have guessed that he once counted me among them?
[Like an enthralled child caught within the imagery unraveled by a masterful storyteller, Eridanus gazes up at the grinning visage of his consort with brimming curiosity. Even as Lucius' expression masks with a distant nostalgia, Eridanus carves the sight of it into his deep memory. His stilled hand upon the other's chest resumes its path, tracing shallow red welts across bicep, shoulder, then chest once more.]
Certainly not, [Eridanus himself chuckles, caught within the enthusiasm Lucius brightens with,] I can hardly imagine you living beneath the thumb of anyone... and your own father couldn't understand such about you?
[Perhaps that's something he has over Fulgrim, then. He doesn't underestimate his Eternal.]
The fault was with the company I kept, [ he tsks, as if the topic were of some amusing boyhood folly, no different than a child believing infants are grown in a cabbage patch. His tone shows no offense for Eridanus' unspoken suggest, but still, the impulse to deflect any suggestion of folly from Fulgrim is automatic. ] If Eidolon always reached too far, Saul knew exactly how little he was capable of. At least, he did, before he decided he would rather die in fruitless defiance for a glory that wasn't his own.
[ Lucius' nose wrinkles, distaste for that eleventh hour change apparent. ]
I suppose the primarch must have believed affection for my closest brother would leave me conflicted. It didn't. [ He shrugs, as if the matter really were as simple as that. Then, again, his mouth splits in an over-wide grin, and for a moment, it seems as though he has that manticore's Cheshire mouth again. ]
Don't misunderstand, Eridanus. [ One of his claws comes up; it teases against the tip of Eridanus' patrician nose, as if he really were a child set upon his knee. ] You speak of disloyalty, but what I did was an act of anything but. After all, what would a man of true loyalty desire but to return to the side of his beloved father?
And so you chose Fulgrim above anyone else, [Eridanus' tone implies a resolution that could be nothing but finite, and as Lucius' grin spreads all the wider, his own flattens into the irritated press of a curt smile. He doesn't bat away the teasing claw at the tip of his nose, but as he draws in a steadying breath, his chin tilts back to pull it away from the touch.] I was under the impression that your loyalty resided with none other than yourself.
[There's more he wants to sayāabout the position of pawn being unsuitable for Lucius. He knows it would be nothing more than the pass of ignorant judgement, but the way his blood surges at the mention of such profound faithfulness has him feeling more restless now than when he had freshly risen from the grave.]
What was it like, killing your beloved friend for him?
[ That teasing finger moves upward, as if to chase the tilting planes of Eridanus' face. Claw-tips pass them by, however; black enamel instead threads itself into the ash blond of Eridanus' hair, and there it grasps, Lucius' overlarge hand holding Eridanus still with a grip to remind him of the totality of devotion he had pledged the Eternal. ]
And loyalty to myself meant retaking my rightful place among the IIIrd Legion, under my primarch's eye. What about it do you find so difficult to understand?
[ After all, loyalty to Fulgrim and loyalty to himself are one in the same. He has never found a circumstance to test that to the contrary.
Lucius' face looms nearer, until there is no space to separate them at all. His scarred forehead presses to Eridanus', fleshy horns and protruding opal and all, and the breath from his jagged teeth blows against his skin. ]
But Saul's death was for me. It was his lack of vision that forced me to crawl through mud and carrion for a chance at regaining my rightful status, and he tried to stand in my way even when his foolish resistance was already undone by my machinations. As I watched that rock blasted to fiery ruin behind me, there was nothing in my heart but satisfaction ā like a man fresh from feeling a tumor cut from his gut.
[ With the passing of every word, the childlike playfulness that so often buoys his voice gives way to the sadist's malice that always lurks behind it, voice growing as dark in its intensity as the vicious gleam of his eyes. As the last syllable leaves his lips, he pauses, savoring the flavor of it on his tongueābut then, with the question he asks next, his tone is bright and conversational once more. ]
But I believe we were talking about Lord Commander Eidolon, weren't we?
[Eridanus knows better than to think his misbehavior will go unpunished, or at the very least, without reprimand. Still, as those enamel claws thread through his hair and grip it close to his scalp, he feels his voice catch in his throat. The rabbit-beat of his heart feels as loud as a thundering drum in his ears; but despite the inherent threat of that overlarge hold, Eridanus only feels the way his body heats in anticipation of joyful agony at Lucius' hand. His gaze falls half lidded as a trembling sound wells up from his throat, excitement prickling down the nape of his neck.
Beneath such a display of dominance, as natural to Lucius as breathing, he can't even muster the will to disobey further. Perhaps then, his loyalty to Fulgrim isn't so difficult to understand; and yet, Eridanus still finds himself angered that the feelings he holds for his consort could be given away to another.
Once more, it isn't until Lucius' playful verve returns that Eridanus realizes the breathless strain in his lungs. He exhales a hot sigh against the lipless maw before him, and in his infantile irritation, he almost pulls himself against the commanding grasp that holds him just to shove his mouth against it. Rather, Eridanus' opaline claws dig a little harder into the presented flesh of Lucius' chest and he furrows his brow with frustration.]
Tell me of Commander Eidolon... my Eternal.
[His words are quiet, but pinched still. Within them is the barely restrained insolence he wishes to give voice to, but doesn't. He must content himself with being the one chosen by Lucius, Eridanus reminds himself. To be hand-picked by the one he loves most is the greatest honor, even if it does not guarantee his dominance of his lover's heart.]
[ Just as Eridanus draws the comparison within his own thoughts, Lucius too thinks of an Astartes cowed beneath the awesome presence of his primarch. There is a blasphemy in the thought, that he could place himself on a level equal to Fulgrim's even within the eyes of his besotted consortābut that is precisely why it shudders through him with such an excruciating ecstasy, Eridanus' continued sulking barely a thought within his mind. His fingers tighten in their grip around his scalp, and for a moment, he nearly feels as though his fingertips do hold the power to kill a man as easily as he blinks once more. ]
Lord Commander Eidolon, [ he begins, the words an intoxicated sigh from his thin lips, ] led the Emperor's Children loyal to our primarch in purging those of us deemed Imperial loyalists. First, the Warmaster himself granted us the honor of bringing the Emperor's wrath to a civilization fallen beyond redemption ā and knowing no better, we jumped for a taste of that glory. Then, in the moment we had purged Isstvan III's Choral City of life in His name...
[ Lucius trails off, and he laughs at the irony left behind in implication. ]
Well, when an orbital bombing failed to kill those of us marked for death, the primarch of the World Eaters decided he would take our skulls with his own two hands. [ His lips split wider with grim humor. ] You see, dear Archmage, our little loyalist resistance was doomed from the start. All we could hope to accomplish against the combined fury of our kinsmen and the three primarchs that stood along with them was the killing of time. We would die as martyrs, nobly sacrificing ourselves so news of Horus' betrayal had time to reach the Emperor's ears!
[ Again, he laughs, the whole story nothing more than a grand farce in the face of ten-thousand years of hindsight. Suddenly, the space between them feels far too small; there is no room for Lucius to move in the sweeping gestures such comedy deserves. He draws back, cool air flooding the space between their chests in the place of body heat, simply so that Lucius may move. ]
Oh, but we did waste their time. We barricaded ourselves within the very same Precentor's Palace we had taken just minutes before we were to be cast aside, and we held it. Imagine the frustration of the poor Warmaster, unable to stomp out this little knot of loyalists for no reason other than the space we huddled in! Why, imagine how a commander would be lauded, all the glory and accolades that would be heaped upon his shoulders, if only he found a way inside and stomped out our pathetic band of survivors before we could muster against him...
[ His voice drops low, conspiratorial and suggestive, and as his gleaming eyes regard Eridanus below him, he clearly expects him to have caught onto the turn this story is about to take. ]
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My sweet Archmage, [ Lucius says, the waver of teasing mirth at the edges of his voice, ] are you worried I'll forget which one is yours? [ Naturally, such an idea is ridiculous, and the humor of it settles into Lucius' fanged grin. His hand stills against the naked bone of Eridanus' hip, exploratory touch turning into something heavy and possessive as he replies, ] An Astartes has perfect recall. It's only natural that I do.
[ Statements that are true, but not wholly honest. He should recall every moment of his last eleven-thousand years with perfect precision, but his own memory has been worn away by the very blessing that Eridanus asks about now. It's a reality he has never quite admitted beyond the confines of his own skullāand, of course, he doesn't intend to start now. ]
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I would not say that I am worried, per se... [Despite them, his words trail with a lack of confidence. Behind the jealous guard of his opal maw, his fangs bear down and worry his bottom lip as he continues to trace patterns in the textured surface of Lucius' skull.]
So many battles have been immortalized on your skin, [his fingers pause at the sunken pit of Lucius' ear, and his palm shifts to cup the man's cheek in a lover's hold,] how many of them have you died in? What was it like, to be revived by your God? Was it cold, like the Sea of Stars, or was the it the warm embrace of a parent with their child?
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Are those the only possibilities you can imagine, dear Eridanus? [ His hand shifts in answer, the tip of his thumb's claw pricking at the dip of muscle and bone beneath it. ] I regret to inform you that it's neither. It is hot, like a bed of nails.
[ His smile grows across his face, but at its edges, it turns sharper than before. ]
In death, my fate is the same as any other pledged to the Prince of Pleasure: my soul is captured by His hands, where it exists as nothing more than His eternal plaything. The difference between myself and His less beloved devotees is that I am given a rope with which I may drag myself out.
[ His hand lifts, and in the space between them, he holds up a single finger. ]
A single flicker of the barest satisfaction is all I need. [ It's more than he usually gives away; after all, to reveal the true terms of the bargain is to expose its limitations. And yet, what does Lucius have to fear from his sweet, loyal Eridanus? ] Even an animal might feel it, should it come to that. It makes their soul burn like the furnace of a sun, and by that light, I am able drag myself from the muck of death.
[ A half-formed thought tickles at the back of his mind, not for the first time: What would happen if he instead allowed himself to sink? The same as ever, Lucius discards it as quickly as it comes. After all, there is little point to contemplating something which will never come to pass.
That great claw lowers, tracing again along the glittering tear-streak split through Eridanus' skin. ]
Each time, the prelude to rebirth stretches an unthinkable, torturous eternity. And yet, here I stand, risen and unbroken by a trial tasted by no other.
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He imagines that painānails tearing through his flesh, flensing meat from bone until there is nothing left but a bare soul in all of its vulnerability before the eyes of oblivion. To claim such an experience as judgment would be silly, by the sound of it, as fate is decided for any who step into the realm of the Prince... unless that person is Lucius. Once more his lungs are breathless, crushed beneath the magnanimity of his consort's prowessāand in the space of that breathlessness, Eridanus finds his chest swell to bursting with adoration.
A smile splits his face behind the guard of his opal maw, and he turns his cheek into the hand that caresses it. A warmth just for him, he thinks, a pleasure meant only for the one who is Champion of a demi-god. In the cloistered space between them, Eridanus shifts so that he hooks his foot against the hock of Lucius' bull-leg.]
You are incredible, my love. [He whispers sweetly,] I am still virginal to the pleasures of damnation. I will not lie, it scares me. If only I could have a fraction of your courage...
[Eridanus pauses to lift one of his glittering, opal talons to trace incomplete patterns over the expanse of Lucius' chest.]
I wonder, then ā if the day we join our souls together ā will I, too, venture to see the Prince's realm? Will I enjoy that agony beside you, each and every time you are pulled down into the abyss? Just the thought of it is enough to shiver excitement down my spine...
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[ His return from death is a genuine perdition, to be sureāand his own chest swells with hot pride at the way Eridanus regards him with the wonder he deserves for it. If he were unable to bear it, he supposes he would no longer be worthy of shouldering Slaanesh's name; and yet, here he stands, unbent beneath a weight that would render most a far more pitiable sort of insane than he is.
Eridanus' question is a good one, and now that he thinks of it, Lucius isn't sure he knows the answer. He supposes they must remain tethered to him; after all, he has never lost a single soul on his deathly travels. And yet, every time he has made that journey, he has felt nothing but alone.
There is one exception, he supposes, but that is only because he does not truly recall it. ]
But I have experienced the cold nothingness you spoke of as well. [ His aggrandized smile dims, only a shadow of it remaining at the edges of his mouth. ] After my first taste of death, there was simply blackness until I woke up upon an apothecarion slab.
[ Even now, when he thinks of it, he wonders: was that void where Slaanesh first laid His mark upon his soul? The moment where it had seemed that death simply hadn't wanted himāhad that been a recognition of his promise? The expression that settles across his visage appears more contemplative than it is flattered by the thought. ]
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Perhaps that had been the source of his prior angerāas his consort had subjected him to a fate, in many ways, worse than the cage he had held months ago in the circus.
But those thoughts are quickly dismissed by the over-warmth of Lucius demonic form and the possessive touch that cradles his cheek once more. In the comfort of that space that feels more private than the entirety of their bedroom, Eridanus leans into the touch as if he were seeking water in a drought. Large fingers easily cup the entirety of his head, and in that monstrous palm, Eridanus has never felt so comfortable.]
Were you brought back medically? [Eridanus takes a breath, and with it, his eyes open by mere fractions. He turns his heavy-lidded gaze upwards, but he doesn't relent from nudging his cheek into that hand like a indulging pet.] I assume apothecary carries the same meaning in your world as it does in mine.
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[ He trails off, and when he speaks again, that half-completed thought has apparently gone forgotten. ]
I awoke to the heat of an inferno. [ It's good to tell such stories from time-to-time, he thinks; whatever effect the touch of death has had on him, this way, he won't forget them. ] He'd lost control of one of his experiments, and it had interrupted him before he could do whatever it is he intended for my corpse. And yet, I sat up as good as new, without even the lingering weakness that had plagued Lord-Commander Eidolon after his medical revival.
[ Granted, Eidolon had been decapitated. There was certainly a difference in the scale of their injuries. Nonethelessā
His eyes refocus, and suddenly, he is smiling again. ]
You might say that I, too, was reborn as a phoenix: birthed from the darkness in flames.
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But the thought it pushed away, for there isn't a use for senseless pining. In a way, it's just as well to learn such events from the lips of the man himself. He wonders, then, just how entwined their fates are when such coincidences happen time and again. His claws dig into Lucius' hand, not with intent to harm him, but with the desire to keep him close. To anchor him here, in the present, with him.]
However it happened, I am thankful for it. [His voice is soft, thoughtful, and he turns his head in that grip on his jaw to press a kiss to the pad of Lucius' thumb.] Were it not for your beautiful rebirth, I hate to think of a reality in which we would not have met. One stumble in time and space, and our paths would have completely missed one another...
[He pauses though, with his gaze returning upward.]
This Fabius and Eidolon... they are your legion-brothers?
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[ Is the thought intended to put a stop to his own introspecting on the thousand ways the two of them might have passed each other by, and therefore his own attachment? Perhaps! But it has done its job, so far, and with that kiss accepted, Lucius' thumb drops below Eridanus' chin. Tipping his head just so, Lucius bows his face nearer, the very tip of his forked and serpentine tongue passing between his teeth as the gap between their mouths begins to once again shrink. ]
They are, [ Lucius answers, but now his thoughts would seem to be the oppositeāeyes trained keenly on Eridanus' face, with the words that leave his mouth little more than an afterthought. ] What of them? They're both repulsive in their own right, and after your ordeal, I would think you'd rather spend your time on more pleasant things.
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Their conversation turns though, by his own lead, and Eridanus has to draw his mind back into a space where it isn't occupied with his ever-present veneration of Lucius. Instead, he busies himself with the shy touch of his own opaline claws over the fat wrist of the hand that holds him.]
For you to despise them so much... they truly must've done something to earn your ire. [For as short a time as Eridanus has known him, he knows that Lucius is not a man to easily hold grudges over petty squabbles.] Unless you don't wish to speak of it... even the unpleasant things ā I wish to know everything about you, my Beloved.
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That sweet entreaty makes his heart beat quicker in his chestālike the heart of a wolf scenting the blood of a defenseless fawn. There isn't much room to draw Eridanus nearer to his flesh anymore, and his consort is already held well within his grip; instead, he moves, that bullish leg shifting free to hook Eridanus' form within its embrace instead. Great weight pinning the stony shape of that body beneath him, Lucius' tongue slithers longer, teasing along the column of his throat insteadāas if he might simply repeat the experience of Felfri and devour him whole. ]
You ought to be careful what you wish for ā one day, it just might be granted. [ Still, his breath is hot with that shared desire to become completely intertwined as he purrs, ] Bile's crimes are too many and odious to speak of. But, the good Lord-Commander... He is guilty of the worst transgression of all: thinking he could compete with me for our primarch's favor!
[ He laughs, because of course, the idea that Eidolon could be as worthy of the Phoenician's attention as himself is as great a joke as any. ]
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A part of him wishes to argue with those teasing wordsāthat there is no cruel memory, no possible event of his lover's past that would mar the adoration he holds for him. He doesn't as the words that follow distract him from voicing that fondness he holds so fervently, and instead he draws his claw-tipped touch across the expanse of corded muscle that wraps Lucius' forearm.]
Even without your primarch's favor, to compare himself to the Eternal at all... what a fool's errand he endeavored. [Eridanus hums in response, his gaze dropping as his touch ventures higher, over the strong curve of Lucius' bicepājust another show of his prowess with the sword.] You can never compare dirt to gold, and yet... moth larvae will always gaze upon the beauty of the butterfly, and yearn to share their destiny. Won't they?
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[ Lucius feels that adoring touch, but he doesn't answer it. Atop Eridanus, his body remains still and heavyāthe peaceful repose of a predator at rest. ]
That was Eidolon's trouble. Would it amuse you to learn that once upon a time, I served under his command? [ It certainly seems to amuse Lucius, the sound of his laughter fluttering through the air between them. ] Even so, he felt threatened by how swift my star was in its ascent. Too bad for him that he wasn't able to stop it from eclipsing his own.
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It sounds as if there is a crescendo you are leaving out, my beloved.
[Eridanus chuckles, the sound a soft and airy interlude to the fluttering gust that had claimed the space between them. His touch follows the same path it had carved beforeāreverently tracing up Lucius' arm, then shoulder, then down across his chest.]
Did you see to this Eidolon's descent yourself? Or was he merely the dirt beneath your boot, too miniscule to warrant your active part in his demise?
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[ He doesn't laugh, but cruel mirth curls his thin lips all the same. His eyes fall half-lidded with itāor perhaps with that dagger-clawed touch, Lucius' teeth parting wide enough for a hot sigh to escape between the cage of their enamel. ]
Far be it from me to call anyone else overweening, but the simple fact of the matter is that his reach exceeded his grasp. [ One of his own claws teases at Eridanus' upper lip, hooking beneath the thin scar long ago etched into its skin before it skims away once more. ] Eidolon was a man so hungry for glory that he would bungle a golden opportunity in the pursuit of it, and then blame the man who handed it to him for shining brighter in the primarch's eyes after.
[ He speaks of himself, of course, and his smile pulls broader with the memory whether he realizes it or not. ]
It's nearly enough to make a man question Fulgrim's judgment in ordering Fabius to reattach his head. But, I suppose he did have a role to play in our father's apotheosis.
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[Eridanus parrots back, his attention wholly captivated. The claw that had drawn adulating forms over the expanse of Lucius' naked chest halts, and as his gaze bores into that of his Eternal, he looks as if he's a child waiting to hear some magical story.]
It sounds like much as happened with this Eidolon, [he chuckles, the sound of bubbling amusement,] and did his bungled opportunity result in him losing his head? Or was it a separate event entirely?
[He should likely ask for one story at a time, but he's enthralled, and it's apparent. Eridanus wiggles beneath Lucius' form, saddling closer as if it were possible, with his budding anticipation clearly worn on his expression.]
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They are separate incidents, though both date back to the Warmaster's rebellion ā some ten or eleven thousand years ago. I wonder, dear Archmage: have you ever wondered about the Emperor the IIIrd Legion was named for?
[ His lips curl with the humor of a man about to tell what he believes is the funniest joke anyone has ever heard. ]
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Tell me, my Lord.
[He breathes the words, his voice a soft whisper as he anticipates Lucius' next revelation.]
Tell me of this Emperor... is he the one you rebelled against?
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[ Of course, the Warmaster led them to failure and nothing moreābut for the purposes of this story, that's beside the point. The irony is pleasing nonetheless: that the Emperor's favorite son would lead his Legion against his father, and bring the aptly named Emperor's Children with him. ]
A full half of the Emperor's Legions broke their leash and mustered against him alongside us. But, of course, not all of our brothers were so eager for freedom. [ Like a ripple in a pond's reflection, his smile distorts on his lips. Again, his gaze turns distant and dim. ] Too many of them were unable to see beyond the devotion we had been brainwashed to feel, as part of out elevation to the ranks of the Astartes.
The Emperor's Children unable to break the shackles of our hypno-indoctrination would never follow our father in glorious rebellion. And so, Fulgrim purged the blind from our ranks. [ Lucius brightens again, as if he's reached another funny joke. ] Would you have guessed that he once counted me among them?
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Certainly not, [Eridanus himself chuckles, caught within the enthusiasm Lucius brightens with,] I can hardly imagine you living beneath the thumb of anyone... and your own father couldn't understand such about you?
[Perhaps that's something he has over Fulgrim, then. He doesn't underestimate his Eternal.]
So, how did you prove your disloyalty?
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[ Lucius' nose wrinkles, distaste for that eleventh hour change apparent. ]
I suppose the primarch must have believed affection for my closest brother would leave me conflicted. It didn't. [ He shrugs, as if the matter really were as simple as that. Then, again, his mouth splits in an over-wide grin, and for a moment, it seems as though he has that manticore's Cheshire mouth again. ]
Don't misunderstand, Eridanus. [ One of his claws comes up; it teases against the tip of Eridanus' patrician nose, as if he really were a child set upon his knee. ] You speak of disloyalty, but what I did was an act of anything but. After all, what would a man of true loyalty desire but to return to the side of his beloved father?
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[There's more he wants to sayāabout the position of pawn being unsuitable for Lucius. He knows it would be nothing more than the pass of ignorant judgement, but the way his blood surges at the mention of such profound faithfulness has him feeling more restless now than when he had freshly risen from the grave.]
What was it like, killing your beloved friend for him?
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And loyalty to myself meant retaking my rightful place among the IIIrd Legion, under my primarch's eye. What about it do you find so difficult to understand?
[ After all, loyalty to Fulgrim and loyalty to himself are one in the same. He has never found a circumstance to test that to the contrary.
Lucius' face looms nearer, until there is no space to separate them at all. His scarred forehead presses to Eridanus', fleshy horns and protruding opal and all, and the breath from his jagged teeth blows against his skin. ]
But Saul's death was for me. It was his lack of vision that forced me to crawl through mud and carrion for a chance at regaining my rightful status, and he tried to stand in my way even when his foolish resistance was already undone by my machinations. As I watched that rock blasted to fiery ruin behind me, there was nothing in my heart but satisfaction ā like a man fresh from feeling a tumor cut from his gut.
[ With the passing of every word, the childlike playfulness that so often buoys his voice gives way to the sadist's malice that always lurks behind it, voice growing as dark in its intensity as the vicious gleam of his eyes. As the last syllable leaves his lips, he pauses, savoring the flavor of it on his tongueābut then, with the question he asks next, his tone is bright and conversational once more. ]
But I believe we were talking about Lord Commander Eidolon, weren't we?
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Beneath such a display of dominance, as natural to Lucius as breathing, he can't even muster the will to disobey further. Perhaps then, his loyalty to Fulgrim isn't so difficult to understand; and yet, Eridanus still finds himself angered that the feelings he holds for his consort could be given away to another.
Once more, it isn't until Lucius' playful verve returns that Eridanus realizes the breathless strain in his lungs. He exhales a hot sigh against the lipless maw before him, and in his infantile irritation, he almost pulls himself against the commanding grasp that holds him just to shove his mouth against it. Rather, Eridanus' opaline claws dig a little harder into the presented flesh of Lucius' chest and he furrows his brow with frustration.]
Tell me of Commander Eidolon... my Eternal.
[His words are quiet, but pinched still. Within them is the barely restrained insolence he wishes to give voice to, but doesn't. He must content himself with being the one chosen by Lucius, Eridanus reminds himself. To be hand-picked by the one he loves most is the greatest honor, even if it does not guarantee his dominance of his lover's heart.]
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Lord Commander Eidolon, [ he begins, the words an intoxicated sigh from his thin lips, ] led the Emperor's Children loyal to our primarch in purging those of us deemed Imperial loyalists. First, the Warmaster himself granted us the honor of bringing the Emperor's wrath to a civilization fallen beyond redemption ā and knowing no better, we jumped for a taste of that glory. Then, in the moment we had purged Isstvan III's Choral City of life in His name...
[ Lucius trails off, and he laughs at the irony left behind in implication. ]
Well, when an orbital bombing failed to kill those of us marked for death, the primarch of the World Eaters decided he would take our skulls with his own two hands. [ His lips split wider with grim humor. ] You see, dear Archmage, our little loyalist resistance was doomed from the start. All we could hope to accomplish against the combined fury of our kinsmen and the three primarchs that stood along with them was the killing of time. We would die as martyrs, nobly sacrificing ourselves so news of Horus' betrayal had time to reach the Emperor's ears!
[ Again, he laughs, the whole story nothing more than a grand farce in the face of ten-thousand years of hindsight. Suddenly, the space between them feels far too small; there is no room for Lucius to move in the sweeping gestures such comedy deserves. He draws back, cool air flooding the space between their chests in the place of body heat, simply so that Lucius may move. ]
Oh, but we did waste their time. We barricaded ourselves within the very same Precentor's Palace we had taken just minutes before we were to be cast aside, and we held it. Imagine the frustration of the poor Warmaster, unable to stomp out this little knot of loyalists for no reason other than the space we huddled in! Why, imagine how a commander would be lauded, all the glory and accolades that would be heaped upon his shoulders, if only he found a way inside and stomped out our pathetic band of survivors before we could muster against him...
[ His voice drops low, conspiratorial and suggestive, and as his gleaming eyes regard Eridanus below him, he clearly expects him to have caught onto the turn this story is about to take. ]
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sorry that Lucius will not shut up about himself and how great he is
it's nothing you ever have to apologize for honestly I did this to myself, anyways, cw: horny
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