[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 limboâone that only made him yearn for his inevitable return to Lucius' side.
Perhaps that had been the source of his prior angerâas 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 â 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. Nonethelessâ
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 seesâand 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 oppositeâeyes 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 â 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 reasonâbut he supposes that is why Eridanus is his favorite of all, isn't it?
That sweet entreaty makes his heart beat quicker in his chestâlike 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 insteadâas if he might simply repeat the experience of Felfri and devour him whole. ]
You ought to be careful what you wish for â 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 wordsâthat 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' bicepâjust 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 heavyâthe 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 beforeâreverently 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 itâor 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 laughsâbut, 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 â 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 himâespecially 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 moreâbut 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 sayâabout 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 â 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 tongueâbut 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 consortâbut 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 â 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. ]
[Beneath the command of sharp, enamel claws, Eridanus winces as he feels the prick and heat of blood at their tips. It runs across his skin, through the ashen blond of his hair, tickling sensation down his neck as he keeps his gaze upwards, adulating of his Eternal throughout his story. It isn't until Lucius moves away to give himself room, that Eridanus' form slots instead into the crook of the larger beast's elbow. He sighs, eyes falling lidded despite their captivation, as the man continues.
Places unfamiliar to him, names and faces and factionsâit's all too difficult visualize in his mind. He has felt it many times before, the frustration that comes with the disparity of their years, but never as strongly as this. For Lucius, it was eons past, and yet for Eridanus, it feels as if it is the vast, unreachable future.
But then he catches itâwhat Lucius alludes to, and suddenly despite a grip that would part the skin of his scalp, Eridanus sits up without a second thought. Side-sitting and abutting Lucius' overlarge, lounging form, he hovers his face over the tightly grinning mask of his consort.]
You conspired with Eidolon, then?
[He asks, breathless in his excitement. Though frustrated with his own lack of knowledge, he would be lying to say that Lucius was not a gifted storyteller. One moment confused, and the next besotted, Eridanus' gaze gleams in his excitement.]
As much trouble as he made it â I did. [ He sly smile brightens, amused again. ] As I said, I once served under him. I knew the man, and I knew just what he would want to hear.
[ With Eridanus sidled up against him, Lucius' own hand lifts, those dark claws that had grasped his skull in their hold a moment earlier instead teasing an affectionate, bloody path up the curve of his consort's spine. ]
The biggest obstacle that stood in my way was finding the opportunity to speak with him. But, then, I saw my chance to make one. [ He gives those words time to hang between them, thick with conspiracy once more. ]
Saul and I protected the western face of the Precentor's Palace â and I with the force of a mere 30 men to hold off an invasion of thousands. [ He can't help the addition; despite the stain of his once-loyalist affiliation, his tone swells with pride, sweet with the knowledge that he had faced his brothers with so many disadvantages and outmatched them anyway. ] The Palace was flanked by mountains, you see, leaving those western entrances by far the most vulnerable in the face of any assault. Each day, the courtyard beyond became a charnel house, littered with the uncounted corpses of our kin â half those remains so mangled it would be an unmatched generosity to refer to them as cadavers.
[ He pauses, and when he breaths in, he can nearly taste the stench of that death within his mouth again. His tongue flicks through his teeth, licking over his lips as he recalls itâbut the story must go on. ]
Every day, we fought off some new assault. And then, one day, it was Eidolon who brought his forces to bear on us. I didn't see him among the Astartes that warred that day, but that was for the better. [ The statement comes as something more a mundane statement of fact, but then his voice lifts again with grand excitement as he explains, ] Instead, I saw old Chaplain Charmosian commanding the field! He stood proud atop one of the land raiders that had ferried his men in, his great blade bobbing and weaving like the baton of a maestro conducting a grand concerto!
[ His smile grows wider, and so do his eyes, as if manic with the memory of that battle. ]
At once, I knew what I had to do. I had to claim Charmosian's life â and when I did, I would take his helmet from his corpse as a simple trophy. With any luck at all, its vox would still be open to the private channel where he answered to Eidolon's command.
[Beneath those enamel claws that part his skin, Eridanus shivers. The imagery of bloody war, with mangled bodies pulped beneath munitions and cleaved in two by blades is eerily familiar; and despite their wars having been realms and millennia apart, Eridanus almost feels as if he's at home on the field once more. It has been less than a year since he's seen a battlefront, and yet, a part of him craves it with his consort's weaved tale.
Gazing out upon the ramparts, the scent of gunpowder and magic in the air, the screams of projectiles and bloodied menâall of it shivers through him with sick nostalgia.
Eridanus cranes himself over the grinning mask of his consort, efforts made to give Lucius the room to gesticulate easily overcome by his own desire to peer into the murky pools of bloodshot eyesâgold rimming the abyss of pupils blown wide. His own expression is intoxicated, a flush finding its way to his pallid expression as he hangs on those words as if the man's tale were some grand foreplay.]
You placed the helm upon your skull to lure him in.
[The words are breathless as they leave him, and like a concubine attending to her master, Eridanus lays himself across the expanse of Lucius' scar-pebbled chest. His own clawed fingers toy at the tight, waxen planes of his Eternal's visageâand when he draws his next breath, it's with the pink of his tongue gliding over his lip in anticipation.]
The man was eager for glory and you served it to him on a platter with your own betrayal.
sorry that Lucius will not shut up about himself and how great he is
I did indeed â but you're getting ahead of the story, my sweet Archmage.
[ And Lucius does mean sweet. Beneath the fawning attention, even the set of his shoulders seems to swell with pride. He tips his head into those hands so greedily worshiping the planes of his face, and despite the way Eridanus lies astride him now, when Lucius inclines his chin upward, it's as though he gazes down from the impossible height of the Corpse-Emperor himself. ]
I haven't even spoken to you of my glorious triumph over Chaplain Charmosian. [ But, of course, Lucius forgives him for his enthusiasm. It's a duel ten-thousand years old; the galaxy itself has long moved on from that old battle. It rests murky even in Lucius' own mind, words forgotten and details obscured as if they lay behind a field of black smog.
But that doesn't mean he doesn't recall it. He remembers the way it had felt, and he remembers its final sword-stroke, when a precise movement of his arm had sent Charmosian's skull twirling through the air and into his hand. ]
He was one of the Legion's finest â but he was no match for me, at half his age. [ Lucius laughs, and for a moment, it has all the boyish delight he had felt as a mere child of 150 years old. ] My men held the chapel behind me, and I led from the front, just as all great heroes of the Emperor's Children did before me. I crossed fields of interlacing bolter-fire and the blades of my lesser brothers, culling the weak from my father's Legion with my every step.
[ That is certainly how he reconciles his self-proclaimed heroism with all the traitors he himself killed! Anyway, ]
And then I came to Chaplain Charmosian, proud atop the tank that had brought him to our battlefield. We hardly exchanged wordsâ [ though he's sure whatever it is he said, it was very cool ] âas I took that stage alongside him, and then our blades were upon each other.
Charmosian favored the greatsword, a huge and heavy thing that would have knocked me to my back of I had tried to bear the weight of its swings. [ There is an itching in his limbs as he recalls the duel itself; Eridanus can surely feel it, in the way it renders fingers restless against his waist. ] Effective enough in cutting down the rank and file, but not a master in the art of the duel. [ Smug pride curls his lipless mouth. ] A single strike from Charmosian likely would have been enough to cleave my torso clean in two, and he and I both knew it â so I took care not to be there when his blade cleaved through the air, deflecting its weight or sidestepping its mighty swing.
I could taste his irritation, [ he licks his lips ] so I made no move to riposte. Instead, I allowed Charmosian to do the work for me. I waited for that inevitable moment when frustration would cause him to overreach, and when it came, I took both his arms from the elbow down.
[ And that he does remember well. Is there anything more pathetic than the sight of a swordsman rendered impotent with the loss of his hands? Just the memory of it is enough to make him laugh under his breath, and he tuts his tongue as if in scolding disappointment at that long-dead brother. ]
I gave him no chance for a valedictory, and no chance for dignity. In another stroke of my arm, his head spun from his shoulders â and right into my grip. I held it aloft for all my brothers to see, my friends and my foes, and that was the moment in which each and every one of them knew the battle was decided.
[ He lets the painted image linger for the space of a heartbeat, and then the space of another, and then Lucius ducks his face still closer to Eridanus' hovered in front of his own. ]
With Eidolon's men set into retreat, it would seem only fair that I could keep that one small memento of the victory I had assured us, wouldn't you say?
it's nothing you ever have to apologize for honestly I did this to myself, anyways, cw: horny
[For as venerating as Eridanus' gaze is, as if he truly were some supplicant, prostrating within a gilded temple before the figure of his godâhe still splays himself across Lucius' broad front the same as if it were a throne especially made for him. Affectionate in his touches of the man's waxen skull, his daggered fingers trace the eons-old latticed scars. Lucius spins a grand tale of his triumph over his legion-brother and thoughts fill his mind of just which of these phantom scars was the one he carved into his handsome visage that day. Was it buried beneath new victories? Or would he be able to pick out a corner, an edge of it, just to press an adoring kiss to its length?
He shifts, again, against the over-large torso that brings his Eternal's form one step closer to the glory of his true flesh. Though it is not to lounge over him with the lazy sprawl of a concubine. With the climax of the story growing nearer, he can feel the way excitement buzzes through his veins. Just as restless as the energy that drums talons along his waist, Eridanus swings his leg over Lucius' hips and pulls himself to sitting upon them. His gaze clouds with lust, as his claws drag red lines down the muscular curve of his consort's chest.]
Of course, my Eternal... did you keep your prize?
[He asks, anticipation reaching his breathless voice as he wonders if that skull rests amongst the prizes that litter Lucius' room upon the Diadem. There had been too many trophies to pick through before, and they had all blended together; but now he wonders just what sort of stories led to each one. He wonders just what it would feel like to see Lucius dance through the battlefield spreading bloody carnage in his elegant performance.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
Perhaps that had been the source of his prior angerâas 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.
no subject
[ 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. Nonethelessâ
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.
no subject
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?
no subject
[ 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 oppositeâeyes 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.
no subject
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 â I wish to know everything about you, my Beloved.
no subject
That sweet entreaty makes his heart beat quicker in his chestâlike 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 insteadâas if he might simply repeat the experience of Felfri and devour him whole. ]
You ought to be careful what you wish for â 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. ]
no subject
A part of him wishes to argue with those teasing wordsâthat 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' bicepâjust 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?
no subject
[ Lucius feels that adoring touch, but he doesn't answer it. Atop Eridanus, his body remains still and heavyâthe 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.
no subject
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 beforeâreverently 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?
no subject
[ He doesn't laugh, but cruel mirth curls his thin lips all the same. His eyes fall half-lidded with itâor 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.
no subject
[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.]
no subject
They are separate incidents, though both date back to the Warmaster's rebellion â 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. ]
no subject
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?
no subject
[ Of course, the Warmaster led them to failure and nothing moreâbut 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?
no subject
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?
no subject
[ 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?
no subject
[There's more he wants to sayâabout 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?
no subject
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 â 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 tongueâbut 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?
no subject
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.]
no subject
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 â 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. ]
no subject
Places unfamiliar to him, names and faces and factionsâit's all too difficult visualize in his mind. He has felt it many times before, the frustration that comes with the disparity of their years, but never as strongly as this. For Lucius, it was eons past, and yet for Eridanus, it feels as if it is the vast, unreachable future.
But then he catches itâwhat Lucius alludes to, and suddenly despite a grip that would part the skin of his scalp, Eridanus sits up without a second thought. Side-sitting and abutting Lucius' overlarge, lounging form, he hovers his face over the tightly grinning mask of his consort.]
You conspired with Eidolon, then?
[He asks, breathless in his excitement. Though frustrated with his own lack of knowledge, he would be lying to say that Lucius was not a gifted storyteller. One moment confused, and the next besotted, Eridanus' gaze gleams in his excitement.]
no subject
[ With Eridanus sidled up against him, Lucius' own hand lifts, those dark claws that had grasped his skull in their hold a moment earlier instead teasing an affectionate, bloody path up the curve of his consort's spine. ]
The biggest obstacle that stood in my way was finding the opportunity to speak with him. But, then, I saw my chance to make one. [ He gives those words time to hang between them, thick with conspiracy once more. ]
Saul and I protected the western face of the Precentor's Palace â and I with the force of a mere 30 men to hold off an invasion of thousands. [ He can't help the addition; despite the stain of his once-loyalist affiliation, his tone swells with pride, sweet with the knowledge that he had faced his brothers with so many disadvantages and outmatched them anyway. ] The Palace was flanked by mountains, you see, leaving those western entrances by far the most vulnerable in the face of any assault. Each day, the courtyard beyond became a charnel house, littered with the uncounted corpses of our kin â half those remains so mangled it would be an unmatched generosity to refer to them as cadavers.
[ He pauses, and when he breaths in, he can nearly taste the stench of that death within his mouth again. His tongue flicks through his teeth, licking over his lips as he recalls itâbut the story must go on. ]
Every day, we fought off some new assault. And then, one day, it was Eidolon who brought his forces to bear on us. I didn't see him among the Astartes that warred that day, but that was for the better. [ The statement comes as something more a mundane statement of fact, but then his voice lifts again with grand excitement as he explains, ] Instead, I saw old Chaplain Charmosian commanding the field! He stood proud atop one of the land raiders that had ferried his men in, his great blade bobbing and weaving like the baton of a maestro conducting a grand concerto!
[ His smile grows wider, and so do his eyes, as if manic with the memory of that battle. ]
At once, I knew what I had to do. I had to claim Charmosian's life â and when I did, I would take his helmet from his corpse as a simple trophy. With any luck at all, its vox would still be open to the private channel where he answered to Eidolon's command.
no subject
Gazing out upon the ramparts, the scent of gunpowder and magic in the air, the screams of projectiles and bloodied menâall of it shivers through him with sick nostalgia.
Eridanus cranes himself over the grinning mask of his consort, efforts made to give Lucius the room to gesticulate easily overcome by his own desire to peer into the murky pools of bloodshot eyesâgold rimming the abyss of pupils blown wide. His own expression is intoxicated, a flush finding its way to his pallid expression as he hangs on those words as if the man's tale were some grand foreplay.]
You placed the helm upon your skull to lure him in.
[The words are breathless as they leave him, and like a concubine attending to her master, Eridanus lays himself across the expanse of Lucius' scar-pebbled chest. His own clawed fingers toy at the tight, waxen planes of his Eternal's visageâand when he draws his next breath, it's with the pink of his tongue gliding over his lip in anticipation.]
The man was eager for glory and you served it to him on a platter with your own betrayal.
sorry that Lucius will not shut up about himself and how great he is
[ And Lucius does mean sweet. Beneath the fawning attention, even the set of his shoulders seems to swell with pride. He tips his head into those hands so greedily worshiping the planes of his face, and despite the way Eridanus lies astride him now, when Lucius inclines his chin upward, it's as though he gazes down from the impossible height of the Corpse-Emperor himself. ]
I haven't even spoken to you of my glorious triumph over Chaplain Charmosian. [ But, of course, Lucius forgives him for his enthusiasm. It's a duel ten-thousand years old; the galaxy itself has long moved on from that old battle. It rests murky even in Lucius' own mind, words forgotten and details obscured as if they lay behind a field of black smog.
But that doesn't mean he doesn't recall it. He remembers the way it had felt, and he remembers its final sword-stroke, when a precise movement of his arm had sent Charmosian's skull twirling through the air and into his hand. ]
He was one of the Legion's finest â but he was no match for me, at half his age. [ Lucius laughs, and for a moment, it has all the boyish delight he had felt as a mere child of 150 years old. ] My men held the chapel behind me, and I led from the front, just as all great heroes of the Emperor's Children did before me. I crossed fields of interlacing bolter-fire and the blades of my lesser brothers, culling the weak from my father's Legion with my every step.
[ That is certainly how he reconciles his self-proclaimed heroism with all the traitors he himself killed! Anyway, ]
And then I came to Chaplain Charmosian, proud atop the tank that had brought him to our battlefield. We hardly exchanged wordsâ [ though he's sure whatever it is he said, it was very cool ] âas I took that stage alongside him, and then our blades were upon each other.
Charmosian favored the greatsword, a huge and heavy thing that would have knocked me to my back of I had tried to bear the weight of its swings. [ There is an itching in his limbs as he recalls the duel itself; Eridanus can surely feel it, in the way it renders fingers restless against his waist. ] Effective enough in cutting down the rank and file, but not a master in the art of the duel. [ Smug pride curls his lipless mouth. ] A single strike from Charmosian likely would have been enough to cleave my torso clean in two, and he and I both knew it â so I took care not to be there when his blade cleaved through the air, deflecting its weight or sidestepping its mighty swing.
I could taste his irritation, [ he licks his lips ] so I made no move to riposte. Instead, I allowed Charmosian to do the work for me. I waited for that inevitable moment when frustration would cause him to overreach, and when it came, I took both his arms from the elbow down.
[ And that he does remember well. Is there anything more pathetic than the sight of a swordsman rendered impotent with the loss of his hands? Just the memory of it is enough to make him laugh under his breath, and he tuts his tongue as if in scolding disappointment at that long-dead brother. ]
I gave him no chance for a valedictory, and no chance for dignity. In another stroke of my arm, his head spun from his shoulders â and right into my grip. I held it aloft for all my brothers to see, my friends and my foes, and that was the moment in which each and every one of them knew the battle was decided.
[ He lets the painted image linger for the space of a heartbeat, and then the space of another, and then Lucius ducks his face still closer to Eridanus' hovered in front of his own. ]
With Eidolon's men set into retreat, it would seem only fair that I could keep that one small memento of the victory I had assured us, wouldn't you say?
it's nothing you ever have to apologize for honestly I did this to myself, anyways, cw: horny
He shifts, again, against the over-large torso that brings his Eternal's form one step closer to the glory of his true flesh. Though it is not to lounge over him with the lazy sprawl of a concubine. With the climax of the story growing nearer, he can feel the way excitement buzzes through his veins. Just as restless as the energy that drums talons along his waist, Eridanus swings his leg over Lucius' hips and pulls himself to sitting upon them. His gaze clouds with lust, as his claws drag red lines down the muscular curve of his consort's chest.]
Of course, my Eternal... did you keep your prize?
[He asks, anticipation reaching his breathless voice as he wonders if that skull rests amongst the prizes that litter Lucius' room upon the Diadem. There had been too many trophies to pick through before, and they had all blended together; but now he wonders just what sort of stories led to each one. He wonders just what it would feel like to see Lucius dance through the battlefield spreading bloody carnage in his elegant performance.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)