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insanity6666 · 1 month ago

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Molten Hearts 3

You explore one of the cities of Nocturne and fulfill an ancient tradition. Accidentally. Mostly.

Warnings: Near-death experience, and all that entails. Nothing graphic tho.

Quick authors note: Stuff has happened between the Office Confession and now, but that's mostly minor fluff-stuff, and I wanted to get this one out since it was gnawing on my brain. Enjoy.

Part 1, Part 1.5, Part 2

The caverns of Nocturne were truly something wondrous. Ceilings, both natural and carved, were so tall you could barely see them, even with the lighting dotted high on the walls. Stalagmites and stalactites reached for each other, some had been broken away while others were used in the construction or used in decorating the cityscape, many bearing carvings or paintwork. Some speleothems were used as columns, reinforcements built around them to better support whatever structure was going to be built around or above it.

You wandered the half-carved streets, the beginnings of buildings, homes, plazas, communal areas, all slowly taking shape. All waiting to be filled with colour and sound and people and life. You felt an almost childlike wonder at it all, at the skill you could see even in the rough hewn stone.

Vulkan had insisted you explore, not wanting you to remain cooped up on the Flamewrought, but had mentioned that the preparations for his home here weren’t quite ready. He had been so contrite, you knew something hadn’t quite gone to plan, and he likely wanted to surprise you with something… again. On top of all he needed to handle upon his arrival, you knew he would be busy. You had offered to stay with him and wait, but he had assured you it was alright, as you would only be bored and he could tell you were eager to get out and move after so long travelling in space. So, with young Kessok as your escort, you weaved through the city. Through markets and back-alleys and up towers and across strone bridges and wherever else your whimsy decided to lead you.

You had come across this area quite by accident. Kessok, a young Space Marine who had not even a year prior had passed his trials as a Neophyte and completed his transformation into an Astartes of the Salamanders, mentioned that expanding the city limits was a slow and often dangerous affair, and that he had not even been born when the work had begun.

It was currently empty. Most work had been halted to celebrate the return of the Salamanders and their Primarch. You can’t imagine how the people will react when they hear he is courting a mortal.

Salt and Stars, you still can scarcely believe it, sometimes. When you wake or in the midst of your craft, you can’t help but expect to find out that it had all been a dream or some heat-induced imagining of some kind. But no, you turn around and find he’s left a sweet message, or has snuck in to watch you work. You wander into his office or invite yourself into his quarters (something that still rattles you, a little, even after the months since that conversation in his office), leave little gifts of your own or steal a few short minutes or a quick kiss before you are both pulled away by other obligations.

You let your fingers trail over stone, smooth and cool to the touch despite the warmth in the air. There were no lanterns, but the nearby lava flows create a warm, ambient light, and the uneven ceilings and walls of the half-carved cavern caused shadows to come alive and shift in an almost playful dance.

“How long do these celebrations usually last?” You ask your guide as you walk along a low ledge that traces the edge of a large open area, full of pillars and columns in various states of completion.

Kessok, helmet off and weapons holstered, pondered the question for a moment. He was almost shy, his hesitant words were the closest you’ve ever heard an Astartes come to stuttering, but that reticence had faded over the hours you’ve spent traversing the city together.

“A day or two, on average. Longer if there has been some great victory or happening. Father usually attends these gatherings,” He must have noticed your shoulders droop a little, as he adds kindly, “though I suspect his attendance will be short-lived for this one. The rest of us will have to celebrate without him, I suppose.” The young Marines smile was one of amusement, light and teasing.

You couldn’t help the blush that stained your cheeks at his comment, but you gave a huff of laughter before turning back to the large plaza a short drop below.

“Will the lava… rivers? Be diverted or blocked, or shall they become part of the architecture in some way?” You touch his arm as you point to what you mean, and he gives an understanding hum as he leans down a little to answer you.

“Blocking them would be unwise, as that would only build pressure. Even if the seal itself doesn’t break, the building magma will only find a new exit. We-” Kessok cut himself off and grew quiet. The sudden silence was jarring enough to make you stop in your tracks, gooseflesh prickling your skin as you caught sight of his expression. His eyes far away as he gazed off to the side, tracking something you couldn’t. Everything became still and quiet in a way it wasn’t before. A way that you couldn’t express with words, but something experienced. Felt.

You had enough time to process his look of sudden panic before the world exploded into violence.

Something roared over the cacophony of stone cracking and shattering. Green filled your vision as Kessok grabbed you just in time for everything to upend itself as you were thrown from where you two had been standing.

By the time your mind gave up on trying to process what just happened, you were pushing yourself to your feet; pain a dull warning in the back of your mind as you looked around. Your time on the battlefield served you well in this moment, as you sharpened your focus into something quick and sharp.

You were out in the open. Unsafe. Find cover. Friend missing. Where’s Kessok? Danger incoming. Source unknown. Identity unknown. Find Kessok. Regroup. Find safety. Find Vulkan.

You scratched that last thought as your eyes scanned the area, even as you moved towards the nearest chunk of stone debris that might hide you from… whatever was here. You need to contact Vulkan. Contact anyone, in truth, but some selfish, scared, childish part of you wanted Vulkan. You wanted your husband. He will come. He will keep you safe. You will see him again.

You held onto that thought as you caught sight of green and gold, half buried under the shattered remains of a half-constructed pillar. You saw his eyes catch yours, blood pouring from a wound on his head, and that flare of relief died a quick dark death as a roar echoed through the chamber.

Unbidden, you ducked lower. With a breath to steel yourself, you rose just enough to glance at what remained of the carved walkway you had been standing on.

Digging out from the remains of stone and metal, a mass of green and black. All scales and claws and teeth.

A Salamander. A drake. The beast from which the legion had been given its name.

It was terrifying.

The creature was huge. It easily dwarfed you. You’re sure some of its teeth were bigger than you. You would be dead if it got close, and you have no doubt it would have no trouble doing so. You have no weapons. None but your wit. Kessok has a bolter, but you doubt it will do much here, maybe slow it down. He was half buried, but it looked like he could still draw it, but he wouldn’t be able to get out of the debris easily. He was trapped.

As if sensing your thoughts, the beast turned its ravenous eyes on the pinned Marine. It gave a low hissing noise, pleased at the sight of helpless prey, and began to stalk towards the struggling morsel.

Some latent instinct grew furious at the sight.

Something within you snarled.

How dare that thing set its sights on your friend? Your son? Kessok was yours. Vulkan was yours and so that meant his genesons were yours. It had no right. You would not let it.

“Call Vulkan!” You shout as you dart out of your hiding place, sprinting to another pile of rubble.

“My Lady! No!” Kessok yells, but the monster's attention was already on you. It was a predator, you were prey. You ran, so it must chase.

And chase it did.

Maybe it thought you were wounded, or that it registered your shout as the challenge it was, or maybe it saw something running off on its own and followed the urge to pursue. To hunt.

It charged after you, steps thundering, but you didn’t look back. Didn’t dare. You jumped as you neared the stone slabs, and kicked off it with as much force as you could muster. The momentum of your run aided you, landing a small distance away but it was far enough as the shrieking collision of scale and stone and flesh and metal burst out from behind you, and even as you avoided the worst of it, you were still thrown.

Rolling with the force, you shoved yourself onto your feet and sprinted for the next bit of cover: A stalagmite that was large enough that it could hide three Astartes, if they huddled.

Wait.

Stalactites.

“Kessok! Above us!” You scream over the noise. You hope he heard you, but you had no time to think as you see teeth emerge on either side of your hiding spot. You lunge forward, throwing yourself out of the way just in time as you hear the crunch of hardened minerals reduced to sand and dust. No better than gravel.

A risked glance of your shoulder as you rise from the tumbled roll you executed, and you realise with horror you could reach out a hand and touch it. You move.

You run around it as it flails, throwing the chewed stones about. You trip, but recover, another roll and you're on your feet and sprinting towards open ground where Kessok should have a clear shot. You hear the echoing ‘Bang! Bang! Bang!’ of a bolter firing, but you don’t dare let your focus stray from anything other than survival.

There, on the far end. Another pillar. Larger than the others, it survived the initial assault, it just may help you survive the next.

“Mother!” You hear the terror in the scream, and some instinct bites at the back of your neck.

Drop.

You do.

Stone bites at your skin, covered or not, as you skid across the ground. A sharp hollow snap above you is accompanied by a rush of wind, the beasts bulk above enough bathing you in shadow.

“To me! To me! Go! Run!” Kessoks shouts reach you, somehow, in the chaos of everything. Like a physical barrier, but he breaks through, and you bolt through the opening. Running before you’ve even gotten on your feet properly, but you don’t stop. Don’t dare.

You focus on the sound of gunfire, the flash of the muzzle, and let it guide you until you catch sight of your friend. He’s kneeling, he’s escaped the debris! His bolter is aimed high, shooting at something high above you, but you don’t spare any thought to it as you feel something rapidly gaining on you again.

There’s the echo of a crack, somewhere far away.

You dive into the Salamander Astartes arms as the Salamander beast bears down on you both.

He turns you away, putting himself between you and the lunging maw.

A wet snap and a hollow squelch break through the roaring, cutting it off as the boom of something hitting the ground at speed ricochettes through the cavern. The drag of something heavy across stone, slowing, and-

Stops.

You don’t know how long you sit there, curled against the ceremite, but eventually you hear breathing. Yours. And Kessoks.You feel the shift from his breathing. You feel the press of your lungs against your ribs, from your own.

Alive. You’re alive. You’re both alive.

Slowly, you raise your head, moving just enough to look up at the Space Marine who is looking down at you in uncomprehending wonder.

“We’re alive.” You whisper, gasping every breath.

“We’re alive.” He echoes, relief and triumph in his voice.

Together, you both shift just enough to look behind his bulk and spy the mess that was far too close.

The dead salamander, a spear of dark stone through its skull, laid in a heap before them. Eyes unseeing, but even in the blank stare of death you swore you could see the ravenous hunger and rage behind the glassy veil. You shiver and turn away, looking about at the destruction its short-lived rampage had wrought instead.

‘Holy shit.’ You think, staring blankly at the devastation. ‘We survived that.’ There were gouges in the stone floor from the beast's charge, deep enough you would need help climbing out if you fell in, and the massive stone pillar was little more than a stubborn stone stump now.

You felt the twin rush of pride and triumph, but exhaustion was encroaching and you felt it begin to dig into your bones.

“Do you think this will count as a courting gift?” You ask Kessok, you stares down at you in the Salamanders equivalent of ‘are you fucking serious?’ for several long moments before he threw his head back and laughed. Big, booming laughter that bounced off the walls of the cavern and seemed to beat back the oppressive fear and desperation that had filled the space like a flash flood.

“I think,” Kessok says as his laughter trickles off, “That once my genefather has assured your wellbeing and has calmed down, you will need to move up the wedding date.”

“Kessok!” You chide, giving his armour a light smack even as laughter overtakes you for a moment, completely ruining your attempt at acting upset.

Once you’ve both recovered from your adrenaline fueled mirth, your friend carefully sets you on the stone floor next to him as he shifts with a wince, settling into a more comfortable, restful, position as he does.

“You’re injured.” It’s not a question. His head wound has stopped bleeding, but you’re more concerned by what you can’t see. His armour no doubt hides much, but the way his knee sits concerns you.

“I will heal. May need to spend a few days with the Apothecaries, but I will be fine. I would gladly surrender a limb for your safety, My Lady.” He tries to assure you, but his words only cause you more distress.

“Don’t say that.” You hate how your voice wobbles, fingers tracing along the armour covering his shin, not daring to put any weight on it. You know, logically, that he wouldn’t feel it if you put all your weight on it, but the idea of him being in pain upsets you enough that any prospect of causing discomfort, even accidentally, makes you overly careful now.

Because you know it’s true. You had made friends with many Salamanders before news of your courtship with Vulkan had spread through the legion, and even the ones you never met would have risked life and limb to protect you because you were a baseline human, a member of humanity and the Imperium of Man. It was their duty, but now it was more. They would die for you, not just because you were one of the people they swore to protect, but because you were theirs. You were Vulkans, and so you were the Legions. You belonged to the Salamanders now.

They loved you. Because Vulkan loved you. Because they loved you. You were kind to them, treated them not as heroes or weapons or lords or symbols, but as people. You didn’t shy away from them, despite their size and strength. You even scolded them when they were being ridiculous.

You remember one night Vulkan had told you, amusement and pride shining in his burning eyes, that he had heard of an incident where one of his captains threatened to tell ‘The Legion Mother’ of his brothers’ behaviour when a disagreement threatened to become a brawl, and they all immediately stopped fighting. You hadn’t truly believed him at the time, convinced maybe he was exaggerating or someone had flourished the details when retelling the story to him.

You believed it now.

Before the weight of realisation -of surviving, of nearly dying, of exhaustion, of the Salamanders calling her Legion Mother and what that really means- Kessok’s head snapped to the side, looking towards the city proper.

You followed his gaze, but knew you wouldn’t be able to see anything for a while.

However, it wasn’t what you saw that had you sitting up and turning your eyes upward after several long seconds of silence.

It was sound.

The rumble-whirr of aerial transport.

Not even a minute later it was in view, a Thunderhawk rapidly approaching their location. You saw a large shape drop from the ship, and you didn’t know whether to curse or sigh, because you knew what, or rather who, that was.

“I’m not sure he was wearing armour.” Kessok comments idly, “Not that he needs it. Lord Father has defeated the firedrakes of Mount Deathfire with naught but his bare hands.”

“He can’t defeat gravity with his bare hands.” You grumble. You know, logically, that he’s fine. You’ve seen him drop from greater heights and walk it off like it was nothing more than a short ledge, but that won’t stop you from worrying.

You have time to give a fond, if exasperated, look to your guard before your husband comes into view, beating out the Thunderhawk by a good margin.

“Love!” His shout reaches you only moments before he does, closing the space within seconds. He drops to his knees and pulls you into his arms. You go willingly, trying to pull yourself up, close to him, but give up almost immediately and let him fold himself around you even as he looks over you, hands barely daring to brush around the edges of the scrapes and bruises. Afraid to touch you and yet unable to resist keeping you close.

“Oh my heartfire, my treasure, my sweet one.” There are tears in his eyes as he looks at you. Your heart lurches at the sight, and you reach up to cup his cheek.

“I’m alive. We’re alive. We’re okay.”

“You are not okay.” He refutes harshly, a growl turning his voice dark. “Look at you! You are covered in wounds, and Kessok…” He looks to his son, who seems to shrink in on himself under his father's burning gaze. Distantly, you notice his helmet is missing.

“Saved me.” You announce, your voice turning sharp and hard. “I would be dead a hundred times over if not for him. Even with a shattered knee, he didn’t stop fighting.” You didn’t want to fight, but if he tried to blame Kessok for your injuries, for the salamander attack, for anything, you were going to have to.

Vulkans eyes turn soft when they settle on you again. “I do not condemn him. I only wish to note he is also hurt.” You blink up at him, and relax in his hold once more.

“Oh.” You say, “Good. I’m sorry, I jumped to conclusions.” You look over to where the Warhawk is landing, ramp already extended and Astartes pouring out like a green and gold landslide. You see three Apothecaries already making a beeline for your little group, and you raise a brow at your husband.

Clearly he doesn’t feel the need to act like he may have overreacted, because he returns your look with a serious stare. You sigh and lean forward to press a kiss over his hearts, the fabric of his tunic is smooth, and you rest your cheek against it.

Now that you are in Vulkans arms, all strength has left you, adrenaline fading and in its place the exhaustion in your bones blooms. Making your muscles feel both hollow and heavy, your limbs leaden and like your very core buckles under its own weight, threatening to collapse with every breath.

“Do I need to stay awake?” You murmur, nuzzling into the warm safety of your Primarch as your eyes begin to droop.

“Just a few minutes, my treasure. Just for the Apothecaries to check you over.” He said quietly. You heaved a sigh of ‘okay’ as you pushed against him to sit up properly and face the trio of healers, though one was already attending to Kessok, thankfully.

The pair attending you worked seamlessly, checking you over, disinfecting wounds you didn't even know you had, patching you up, and asking questions that you could only half-answer. The details of the fight were sparse, though a few blurry details were beginning to form, like mist fading in the morning light. Rocks digging into your legs as you slide, the thrashing tail of the salamander beast as it snarled, the hot breath that carried the scent of rotting meat and death, Kessoks determined glare as he took aim…

It was quickly determined that you would need to go to a medical facility to aid in your recovery. Vulkan stood with you in his arms.

“Wait, My Lady.” Kessok spoke up as his brothers helped him stand, intent on also dragging him to a medical facility. Probably a different one, better suited to Astartes. “I think you’re forgetting something.” he says meaningfully, glancing from you to the beast behind them.

“Oh!” You sit up in your husband's arms, pausing to give a grateful smile to the grinning Salamander, before focusing your attention on the confused man holding you. “Vulkan, I formally present my offering to you.” You gesture to the dead salamander beast, “With Kessok as my hunting partner, who bravely aided me in this trial, and your sons as my witnesses, I give you proof of my devotion to you and intent to be worthy of you.”

Vulkan said nothing. Just stared. At you, at the beast, at the decimation of the area. Worry and nervousness began to eat at the edges of your heart as the silence dragged on. You looked to Kessok for guidance, suddenly fearing you had said it wrong. You know there’s no set script, not like with your people, for this, but you’re fairly certain you said the right things.

He gave you a comforting smile, which eased you somewhat, and you turned your attention back to the man you loved.

Finally, he turned his eyes back to you. You felt subtle tremors, fine and hidden, but there. Vulkan took in a slow, shaking breath, before gently lifting you up high so he could bury his nose in your hair. He took deep, measured breaths, those tremors growing in intensity for a moment before settling.

“You honour me. You honour my legion, my people, and I could not be more proud to have you at my side.” He announced, his words were smooth and steady, spoken lowly but you knew his sons heard. You press up into him, letting your hand rest in the crook of his neck.

“But never do this again?” You ask quietly, letting the moment pass.

“Never.” He agrees, fervent and voice heavy with emotion.

“Don’t plan to. How did it even get into the city?” You wonder, settling back down into his arms, letting him carry you towards the Thunderhawk.

“I’m not sure, but I plan to find out. It’s likely the construction caused a disturbance, on top of an increase in geographical activity, much of the fauna may have been displaced, leading to this one wandering too close to the city.” he sighed, “it doesn’t help that the perimeter alarms have not been properly set up yet. Whatever the case, I shall confer with the elders to confirm the cause and do what we must to ensure something like this doesn’t happen again.”

“Hmm.” You hum in understanding, steadily losing the battle to keep your eyes open. You feel lips on the top of your head.

“Sleep, my love. You need rest now.”

“Be there when I wake up?” You mutter, clutching at his tunic even as you sink into the comfortable darkness of sleep.

“Of course, nothing could keep me elsewhere.”

With that, you succumbed, and slept.

***

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