Chapter Text
Under the shadow of the Nightfall, the planet’s capital underneath was silent as death itself. Not a soul dared to step out, not for anything beyond the necessities. No one dared to draw attention, the planet holding its breath, waiting for a strike.
Hopefully, it would not come.
Rain pattered on the paved roads, bouncing off of the Astartes that patrolled around the governors lands. Their heads turned slowly, heavy bolters resting in their hands. The red wings mounted atop their helmets cut through the slow rain, though some stubbornly clung and dripped thickly.
Lucira sat upon the plush seat mounted to her window, her temple resting against the window. Her breath lightly fogged the glass, the heat of her body escaping in soft puffs. She watched the slow, steady patrol until they were out of sight, catching sight of her own deep brown eyes.
There was no light in her reflections’ eyes, despite the street lumens glowing softly. Night was crawling slowly, the planet’s slow rotation preparing to dive into the long night for yet another cycle. She blinked and, still, there was no light - no life.
She tilted her head at the heavy footsteps nearing her door, folding her hands over her lap and turning to face the door. Her back straightened and her shoulders squared. The lacy black veil pinned to her unnatural white hair fell into place, obeying the laws of gravity.
The door swung open and she caught a glance at the typical royal guards, shadowed further by a single dark Astartes. Her door closed behind her brother, the short, thin man stalking towards her. His once-charming smile broke into a scowl and he crossed his arms, staring down at her mere feet away.
“Prepare yourself, Lucira. ‘Tis to be your wedding night tonight.”
She blinked slowly at him. “My… wedding night?”
He nodded firmly, waving his hand. “Yes, your wedding night. I’m gifting you to this primarch. Consider yourself a worthy sacrifice for our planet’s safety.”
Her shoulders lifted as she breathed in deeply. Her head bowed, her fingers not betraying a single tremble. This day would come, sooner or later, just as her mother and her mother’s mother. “Yes, brother.”
He exhaled heavily, his scowl faltering as he stepped within her reach. His clammy hand cupped her cheek, tilting it up. “This will be your greatest duty, Lucy. Do not fail me. Please him, you belong to him now. It is better to step into the Imperium’s Embrace than to resist it.”
“Yes, brother.”
His thumb brushed her cheek and she felt the urge to pull away crawl in her belly. She resisted it, neither pulling closer or away. “You’re so pretty, sister.” His voice was bordering on pleasant, pleased with himself. “I hope you do not break while you are still within the system. ‘Twould be a tragedy to disappoint the higher powers.”
“Yes, brother,” she whispered.
His thumb brushed over her lip before he pulled away. “Good. Now, prepare yourself. Pack what is necessary only. As I understand, you will be escorted to their flagship within the hour. Assuming they’re not toying with me again.”
Her eyes drifted down as he made his exit. She rose, looking out her window. No painting or pict could possibly bring up the whispers of emotions the view had brought her. Her future was sealed and it now promised only the darkness of space.
She began to move, her veil fluttering gently. Her necessities - as scarce as they were expensive - went into one hard case. Her clothes, dresses and veils, ribbons and trains, heels and slippers, went into two hard cases, folded and packed so tightly she had to push down on them to seal them.
There was no idea how long she truly had. They’d swiftly learned not to trust most words they said, if they said their primarch was coming down soon, they would have to take their word for it, but they had yet to see him. If they said they were only going to take what was necessary, they instead helped themselves to their food and drink stores. Several servants had long gone missing, the only clues to their whereabouts were droplets of blood or the hum of a Thunderhawk leaving the atmosphere.
With their parents so recently lost, her brother had taken over. He’d barely had time to seek someone to wed her off to before the answer came from the stars themselves. While she sat in her window, watching the Astartes claim their new territory, her brother set about negotiating, trying to pretend he was not so disturbed by their host.
The bruises around her hips, hidden by her silken dress, reminded her just how her brother felt by it all.
She tightened the lace collar around her neck, feeling it tickle under her chin. She tilted her head, petting it back down as she drifted back to her window. The Astartes were moving, more than usual, as if something had truly gotten under their feet. Certainly, not fear, but a new sense of urgency perhaps.
She couldn’t wonder for much longer before a heavy fist cracked her door in a knock. It swung open and she stared quietly at the helmeted angel. With a practiced curtsy, she tipped her head low. “My lord. I’m prepared.”
She felt something crawl down her spine as he stared down at her. His voice raped, rough through the vocaliser, “Good. Now, come.”
She stepped forward, glancing at the dark blue robed serfs standing just behind him. He didn’t move as she took slow steps forward. The serfs stepped in, their darkened gaze locked to the floor as they walked in. She caught one of their eyes before they moved past to take her cases from the small stack.
The Astartes turned away and she followed, notably ignoring the strange smell that clung to his very armor. She followed silently, her steps muffled by the soft rug his boots threatened to rip. Behind her, the serfs shuffled along.
The rain washed over her, clinging to the ends of her hair and on her clothes. She could feel eyes, but did not feel the need or want to look around. She held her chin high, the quickly dampening lace around her neck clinging to the underside of her jaw.
As the Thunderhawk’s heavy door closed, she let out a soft exhale. Through the small viewport visible from her seat, she saw herself, her childhood home growing small with a rattle of metal and a growl of engines. Her eyes stared back, dark and bordering on lifeless.
Knowing the day would come did not make facing it any easier.