A lot of stuff....

Sun lights the ruins in such an odd way, with the way it rises behind it casting the front of the castle into deep shadow devoid of all light - but the crumbling sections and gaps in masonry allowed for starkly contrasting rays of light to burst through and highlight the swathes of decrepit stone and the growing shrubbery that supported it. 

When the sun reached the zenith of midday it was far more visible, but the scorching heat rising off the wasteland made the whole horizon blurry with wavy mirage. 

It made the whole thing far more mysterious and terrifying, to never have truly seen the place up close, and only now in the eleventh hour would you fulfil your curiosity. Hardly the reward you wanted, but a reward nonetheless.

You could at least admit to yourself that underneath the grumbling swell of emotions: of shock and sadness and pain and fear - there was a curiosity that had gnawed at you for years.

The elusive dragon who you had over ever really heard, aside from the occasional sliver of wing or horn - a great and mighty beast who’s very presence completely dominated your life, the lives of everyone you knew - and yet seemed oh so disconnected from daily life. A waking terror that haunted the minds of every man woman and child to know that a painful and horrific death was always close at hand, always needed satisfying, but functionally didn’t truly exist.

A lord to be satiated and pray never looked down to see the peasants lay at his feet lest he finds himself wanting.

And you had known, or course, that other kingdoms and towns offered up ‘pretty young things’ as you had heard it so neatly summarised - but never understood why. The offering of gold and heirlooms and other treasures and tithes made sense, everyone knew dragons kept mighty hoards. 

You supposed it was to instill terror. 

The people would have to turn on each other to decide whose child would be sent unto their own death and breed a resentment between them. They could not rise up and fight against him if they were too busy fighting amongst each other to survive, to appease. 

And that was your role now, to appease, in whatever delightful death awaited you at the end of this long, dusty road at the hands of the Pale One.

“Don’t think too hard, ‘s not worth the pain.”

His voice is gruff, hard from years of little use and age combined, but there's an underlying sorrow to it, a hint that betrays him more than his actions have damned him.

You want to protest that it’s all you can do now, but the words rise up your throat and die there. He was trying to be kind, to soothe you in his own way. 

There was no need to create more pain to leave behind you with cutting words.

You would find comfort in the solitude - focus on the way the dust kicked up from the back wheels and created swirling patterns in the early light still rising.

The ride continues in silence, which would have been comfortable if not for the cycling of thoughts and emotions that washed over you with each turn of the wheel. You tried not to think too hard - really tried, 

It was just then, as your stared out that the clouds shift, the ground now more mottled and dappled with light, which was odd - you’d never seen such a patter in the dust cracked earth before. Then again, you’ve never been so close to the castle either, now closer to its towering form that home.

Closer than ever before you can see what must have been the initial grandeur of the place, with crumbling facades and fascias giving way to roughly hewn stone. 

Everything so was so much more starkly lit now, but all it reminded you of was the constant onslaught of time working against you. 

The continual clip of the mare’s hooves, the turning of the wheel, the rising sun casting shorter and shorter shadows - and the thump of your heart, gradually beating faster and faster.

Everything blurs. Nothing changes.

Closer and closer the shadows grow.

This close and the plains begin to give way to sparse forests, untouched by the town for how close they sit to the dragons domain. You’d never seen trees loom over you like this.

Bittersweet. New emotions and an escape from the life of old. Everything you’d ever hoped for but not in the way you’d planned.

And then you arrived. Hooves clattered to a stop on the dusty road and wheels stopped creaking. The old man went still above you.

Your time was up.

“…Alright. We’re here,” his voice is weary, resigned to both your fates. 

There is no great rush for him to dismount, every step drawn out, even though you knew him to be deceptively spry for his age. You weren’t sure if it was a blessing or a mercy, if you wanted every second you could grasp or for it to just be over.

Still, time marched on and soon enough he stood at the back, only just taller than you with the level back of the carriage. 

His hands are rough with old callouses and weathered from years in the harsh sun, but he uses them with a betraying gentleness as he helps you sit up and swing your legs over the back.

The world sways as his hands steady you into standing. A long time spent on your side over uneven terrain and your own spinning head contributing into making sure you could barely support your own weight as everything threatened to topple.

“That’s it lass, here, here,”

Before you can process anything, cool water is tipping down your throat, relieving the ache you didn’t even realise had built. 

It was a great kindness, water was a precious resource to waste, especially on a dead woman.

Still, kindness only extended so far, and the sun was more than halfway down now, well into the early afternoon where you had set off just before the dawn. He would leave you here before long, it was a fools errand to leave late and risk the horrors night alone would bring, and even more foolish to stick around a dragon’s sacrifice to wait for it.

So he helps you sit, back to a small boulder and propped in the shade of a wizened white oak. 

You look up at the last face you’ll ever see.

There are pricks of tears in his eyes where yours have run freely, wrinkles where your face is smooth and wisps of white where your hair will never grey. So much unfairness, so much difference, yet in the moment your eyes meet you’d never felt so close to another, such understanding to his agony and him yours.

Kinship where there should have been none, connection in the end.

There was not another in all of Barbarus who had been here besides him, and now you, and it was surprisingly peaceful. 

The kiss placed on your head invokes a familiar emotion, something buried deep - perhaps from old memories in long forgotten dreams where your father tucks you into bed and tells you of all the treasures he’ll bring you back from his travels. But its warm, and sweet, and brings you a sort of peace that you were looking for.

Your mouth moves before your mind, impulsive thoughts that might as well be spoken, “S-stay? Just for a moment?”

His eyes and hands tighten in synchronisation as he peers up at the sun, then slowly releases you with a sigh. You didn't actually expect him to say yes, but still part of you had hoped.

“I’m sorry.”

You know.

He leaves, old mare trotting off with little care for its cargo left behind. If he turns back you don’t see between the blurring of the world from more unshed tears.

You stare for a long time.

Nothing feels real anymore. 

Half formed and fleeting thoughts of running, exploring and the unfulfilled dream you had come and go while your body buzzes beneath your skin.

Everything aches.

Neither your body or mind knows what to do with itself, physical strain and emotional exhaustion combining into a malaise that drags you down into the depths of something.

Instead you focus on the ground in front of you, tuning out how your ankles are wrapped with tight rope you can't relieve and looking out at how the sunlight falls so softly here. Such a change from the harsh desert sun, from cracked and droughted ground.

There's more rocks here, not yet taken for construction, more vegetation too, not dared to be picked even in famine. A clearing at the base of that colossal wreck untouched by humanity.

And then mottled sunlight descends.

The shadows grow darker and spots of sunlight wider, and your head snaps up in confusion.

Wings.

Tattered wings, holes ripped through that let sunlight pass through and camouflages him amongst the skies.

You have no time to process your demise, and just barely enough air in your lungs to scream as a gigantic claws thicker than tree saplings grasp around you into the ground, bringing up your prone form along with the cracked earth beneath you. 

You’re scooped up at the lowest point in the dive, with the ground now rapidly escaping your reach as wind rushes around you, disguising your screams amongst it. Clumps of rock and dirt tumble out of the Pale One’s claws at the edge, crumbling away where you remained firmly trapped in the centre.

You can’t even tell how high up you are, faced to the sky as you are, expect for the fact that the clouds are too close for comfort and despite the bright sunlight contracting so starkly against the dark silhouette engulfing you, darkness swallows your mind whole.

You don’t expect to wake, not truly, but when you do, it’s to a deep ache through your whole body, sharp shooting pains throughout your back where rubble digs in, and a pounding headache to match. Your limbs are weak, trembling and barely able to support yourself as you try and raise your torso up - spurred on by intense thirst and immeasurably dry mouth, lips chapped and throat raw and parched for a drop of moisture.

Maybe if your head hadn’t hurt so much you’d have thought this through, took a second to recover or even tried to crack open a scrunched up eye.

Maybe you wouldn’t have pushed yourself up, soft palm of your hand being stabbed by rock and earth as you shudder and wobble.

Maybe you wouldn’t have let out a deep, shaky exhale and feel a huff of hot air wash back over you in response, blowing back your hair.

There are those who are content with adoption. Those are Lion El’Jonson, Mortarion, Roboute Guilliman, Vulkan, Rogal Dorn, and Jaghatai Khan.

Lion knew from the start that he was adopted, so having another child is simply adding one more to the family. He will make sure to be a good father.

Roboute Guilliman knew from the start that he was adopted, and he turned out just fine. So he seeks to prove that to be the case. Let the two of you adopt a child, and he will prove that with the right upbringing, any bloodline can become perfection.

Vulkan simply cherishes the chance to raise a child with you. It does not matter what blood they have, as long as you and he pour your love into their being. They will be absolutely magnificent.

Mortarion wants to prove that his original father was wrong, that you do not need a blood connection to treat a child as a person and to treat them with love. So he strives for a connection that is not bound by DNA, but one that can be built by spirit alone.

Dorn did not know he was adopted until the moment the Emperor told him, but he still believes that, by virtue of his own upbringing, he can bring anyone up to his standard. He will be ever so kind and patient in doing so.

Khan will accept any blood as long as you are willing. You are his focus, and he is always ready to raise children with you, no matter the DNA.

Then there are those who require the DNA to be shared. Those are Perturabo, Lorgar Aurelian, Horus Lupercal, Alpharius and Omegon, and Fulgrim.

Fulgrim yearns to see what the union of you and him can bring into this world. It will be an epic perfection, and whatever he must do to bring this to life, he will do.

Perturabo believes himself superior, but you are his complement, so whatever comes into this world must be a mix of the two of you. If an artificial womb is required, then so be it. But he will still expect you to carry your shared masterpiece to term.

Lorgar sees your union as divine, and so it shall be. He will exhaust himself trying to make this happen. If all else fails, then a handmaid will be brought into the matter, and she will bear a true son to you and him.

It is a matter of ego with Horus. He wants your shared blood to run the galaxy long after you and he are retired to a paradise world. He will spare no expense to make sure this can, in fact, happen. He would use Dark Age technology or forbidden xenos technology just to see you heavy with his child and hear the first cry as they leave your womb.

It is a matter of practicality for Alpharius and Omegon. They know that the only thing they can truly trust in this world is their DNA, especially if it is mixed with yours. So they will employ whatever tricks, technology, or cheat is available to make sure the next generation is shared between you and them.

Then there are those who are sort of ambivalent about where the child comes from, whether from your shared DNA or someone else entirely, as long as it is the child you agree to raise. Those are Sanguinius, Konrad Curze, Leman Russ, Ferrus Manus, Magnus the Red and Angron.

On one hand, Sanguinius wants a shared child with you just to prove his own origin. On the other, he is afraid there may be a deeper mutation. So whichever option is available, he will take it. His future sight be damned.

Konrad would prefer a child from a bloodline unrelated to you, but if you should ever conceive, he will still be amenable to the fruit of your shared union. He will, however, watch them far more closely than he would any other child.

Angron, in fact, prefers a child not related to either of you, but he will be amenable to one you share. It stirs something deep in him, something he thought was buried, yet it rises again when the infant cries.

Magnus is keen on molding your minds together, bloodlines be damned. So this is what he focuses on. He will prepare a teaching plan in order to shape this young one. Genetics are completely secondary to him.

Leman wants a whole litter of pups. If you and he cannot produce one, he will collect through a wide variety of means, for there is no shortage of it. As long as they are raised under his and your tutelage, he is content, if not ecstatic, because he knows that the truth lies not in blood, but in spirit.

Ferrus is ecstatic if you can conceive, but he will manage if you cannot. He will find children who are sturdy enough to bear his philosophy, and he will trust you to raise them well.

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Hey! I now have more here! (and here)

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Lion El'Johnson : what he catches forst is not the sound, but the smell. Clearly something is off with you, aonprepare yourself to be jousted around like a cat in an exhibition. Once he realize that not only the smell but even the sounds inside of you are odds, he'll take you to his apothecaries. Did he got the fact that you're pregnant? Nope, but surely he'll have an hell of a surprise once he find out. Prepare to be secured and always controlled by the Watchers and his sons, the heirs of the Lion will be safe and sound.

Fulgrim: he was just holding you close after a long campain and then...something....strange...and his blood run cold.

"My dear...when did your cycle was last time?"

He'll faint so hard that his captains will have to take him in his chambers. As soonas he'll wake up the first face he'll see is Julius.

"Oh father, you gave us a shock before!"

"Oh Julius...I had the most strange-"

"The apothecaries said that our Legion mother is almost three month old. Would you like me to ask Fabius for supplements and vitamins?"

HE'll faint again. After the terrible start, he'll rejoice with you and he's already planning the nursery.

Perturabo: He's not stupid, he know exactely what's going on and...he's afraid. He had learn many thing on Olympia and one is that children are never safe untill they cannot defend themself. Hre have no time to spent in celebrating his heirs in your womb, he had to make sure that theyììll be secuitred, protected, ready. A safe nursery, structured to sustain even a nuke, the best of his sons will be chosen to protect his love and his offsprings. Nothing will harm his family.

Only when he know everything is ready and safe he'll allow his ears to finally enjoy those small heartbeat, the small kicks and the sweet and kind caress from your hands against his head.

Jaghatai Khan: H'll stop for a second, wait, listen again...

Wha a delightfull surprise you had gifted him little cloud! And look! Your womb is not just full of one but THREE!

This is perfect! He have plans already! He want to build the perfect Iurta for you, his children and...what? No more horse ride? Not even on his bike?!

The old ladies that had rised him will step in and will scold him, teach him and make sure you're safe and sound, especially with such a reckless husband as yours!

Leman Russ: He'll laugh so hard that the walls are shaking. He'll hold you on his shoulder and parade you like the greatest conquest, showing off the great gift you could ever deliver him! People will joke that his seed was far more than effective, that three children is quite the surprise and he'll just remind everyone that he's now a proud future father of TRIPLETS!

The party will go on for DAYS.

Rogal Dorn: in the moment he can hear those beat he froze. He know what they are and be know what is going on, what you see is now a statue of a man walking at you like creating holes in you with his eyes. He's not angry, he's not scare, he's calculating. He'll immediately task Sigismund to guard you and protect you, because he had big work to do. Nursery? Tes of course, in a new total different bastion in the most secured and protected planet his legion could even posses. The Phalanx is secure, yes, but now is not suitable for this kind of task. A castle will be your new home, for you ,the live of his life, and his children, a nest and a fortress to pretect his most precious treasure in tbe galaxies. When you realize what he's doing you sigh in relief, he's also making several toys, they will love the small wooden seals he's making.

Konrad Curze: his ears are already on your womb, his breath stuck in his lungs. The silence of frightening, his breath deep and shallow, his nails digging innyour soft flesh.

"...what...have I done?"

He think of this as curse for you, tainted tk hold his genes in your delicate and fragile body. You'll have to reassure him that is fine, you want this, and you want this with him, caressing his face and remembering him that this is a gift and not a curse. He want to cry, he's happy, he's scared, he's angry...and he's worried. His sons are not the best in this delicate matters, he'll transform into a feral beast. He'll guard your room days and night, case away whoever roam too close to your chambers, to where he's protecting his light and future. This is right, he said caressing and kissing your belly, this is the right choice.

Sanguinius: he had saw something like this, what he didn't saw was that there was suppose more than one. He cry, he's so happy, butbhe's so damn worried. What if they are like him? What if they hurt even now that they're inside of you? What if something happen to you or to them?

As far as his apothecaries say the pregnancy will be difficult for his genes and yoir baseline body, and the factvthat he's transforming himself into a feral predator is not helping. He'll prepare a nest for you, he'll bring you food and give you all his love and attention. He just want his babies and his live to be okay.

Ferrus manus: he trust his senses, yet he want more confermation. When the apothevary confermed that you were carrying his children, hia blood children, he immediately stated just the obvious for him.

"Gestate pod."

You tryed to convince him that it wasn't necessary, that maybe you would be ablento carry them without worries, but be stay unmoved. It's not that he doesn't trust your flesh, he doesn't trust he genes. He's too much, the fact that you were able yet to be close to him was still a surprise and a mistery to him, but he refused the chamce for you to get hurt by delivering his sons and daughters. He'll stay close to you as much as is needed, he won't leave you, just trust him on this.

Angron: you expect him to scream, to break everything around him, that he will juat start a tantrum that it will need moee rhan Kharn to stop him. Instead his arms collapse down like heavy weights, his gaze stuck on a wall, his mouth half opened. He just freeze.

He cannot process what's happening neither he understand how it could had happen and yet it did. You're carrying his children, his REAL children, not those blood thirsty warrior that claim to be his sons. He can feel them, hear them!

He can feel the deep connection with you, their love and...and he feel their love when hia hand touch you womb. Is too much, too much and too perfect.

He'll send yoi somewhere safe, where he or his men cannot harm you. He'll come back, he want to see what a monster like him can really create, the most precious and sacred miracle he could witness.

Roboute Guilliman: there's thia moment that you fear he may collapse on the groung or just disappear like mist in front of you. Roboute Guilliman is now utterly and absolutely broke . He needs time to process the entire information and, when is settle in stone, he'll start planning.

You're carrying his children, his flesh and blood, and this means that nothing he had predicted for you and him is sufficient enough. He need to recalibrate, fix mistakes, make sure there's no way thing could go wrong.

He will call upon the best midwives and peditrician on Macrage, he will select the sons he found capable enough to protect your and his children lives, a new house, safer, crontolled, everything to make sure his family can come in thos universe safe and sound.

When everything is set, when finally he know everything is back in place, he'll allow himself to listen to those heartbeat and smile.

Mortarion: ....he did what?....he is...you are....you both will be...

Cogs are turning, something is shifting, colors are appearing and the only sounds he can hear are those hearts beats.

And Mortarion, uncaring if everyone is watching, fall down on his knees,hold you close and..cry.

He cry so hard that he had to rip off his breather from his face. He's having children, him, of everyone, he's having a family. He thought he didn't deserved one , that he wasn't even good enough to have you at his side and now this.

He'll do everything in his power to make sure his children,his abbies, came to a world were nothing can harm them. He fear he may not be a good father, yet the fact that he's doubting himself means he's already a step ahead.

Magnus: he knew everything. Even before the hearts could be formed, even before their first beating, even before the bump could start to be showed he knew. Those small sparka like stars inside of you, connected to your soul, he knew what those was and he was thrilled. He wanted to tell you, really!...but then he wondered what if he just allowed you to tell him?

So he did something he had never done before: he shutted up.

He looked with a contented smile, admiring the blissfull ignoprance that you had upon your own body and the change. When you find out but decided still to make a surprise for him and he genuinely loved how much you cared to let him know this incredible news with enthusiasm and joy. He couldn't ruined to you, so he waited for you to tell him, all while he planned to fake his surprise!

Of course while this game of his goes on, he's preparing what must be done. His children will be like him, they'll be wonders and psykers like him! He'll teach them everything, but he needs to prepare them on how hard the mankind can be.

Horus Lupercal: It's an immediate festiovity, the entire Legion, the fleet, each member of that spedition will know what's happening and everyone will joy and take respect.

Horus is having children, the Lupercal is having heirs, more than two!

He's overjoy, he'll spin you in the room even when you still need to figure out what's going on inside of you. His dream is happening, he's having his children, from his own blood and from your womb!

If anyone had ever saw the Warmaster happy, then it was a shadow of the happyness he's feeling now. He have a future, a real one, and it's with his wife and children!

Prepation needs to be made, he have to inform his father that his beloved is carrying his heirs, that the line of the Lupercal will continue on! The Sons of Horus will witness the birth of their princes or princess, they will be their protector and family, that's why now you have two member of the Mournival following you like shadows. If not them, Horus's captains are ready to take their place and make sure that their mother and queen is always protected.

Horus is planning to find a fitting planet for his family, somewhere nice, somewhere good enough.

Lorgar Aurelian: he cry. he start to cry in the instant he realize what's going on and what's happening. He's holding, looking at the sacred image of his father the Emperor, thanking him for this gift. Always so harsh on him, always pictured like the weaker of his brothers, always the least and now this.

Is a sign that he was meant for so much more , that nothing is meant for nothing!

The heir of the Emperor! By him the line of his father the god of mankind will continue! Him, his prophet, had made happen a miracle! And you, a sacred wife and apostle, has been tasked to bring it to the world!

The entire legion will rejoy for the news! New sacred tests will be made top tell the story! Nothing will be forgotten because this is the beginning of a new era! The birth will be witness by everyone, you must agree to this, please!

Vulkan: as soon as he's sure of what's happening inside of you, you're not leaving your chambers at ALL. Nope, no duties for the mothers of his children, nope, you stay in bed! The medicae said you don't need it? Well, it's just for measure then!

Vulkan is ESTATIC! Everyday you get showered in gifts and trinkets of rthe future babies not only by him but by his sons too! Jewels, toys, small clothes, cribs, everything is prepared for thsi beautyfull gift that you are allowing him to have.

His captains are even able to convince him to leave early just to stay close to you, so he can hear those little dragons growing and kicking! He's such a proud dad, he's writing everything and he had brought a pictocamera just for this occasion!

Corvus Corax: he think of a malady, something wrong that may had happen when you visited the cities? Maybe something you ate?

....Oh...oh wait it come from...oh...

Like Fulgrim, instant faint, but no son to hold him, just a loud SPLAT on the ground and a Primarch completely gone from the news.

When he'll woke you are close to him and you apologize, worrying that this may be a mistake, that maybe you're not ready to be parents, that this may be an inconvenience and-he'll sush you out with a kiss.

Is not an inconvenience, is not a burde and is an amazing news! Just...unexpected.

He's not a perfect man, he know that, and he know that these children won't be normal, but they are his own and that's what matter. His sons already love you, this event only will bring them closer and they will literally move the sun and the stars just to make sure their Legion Mother and future sibling are safe. They'll even make small toys and gifts, not good like the one that the sons of Vulkan would do but still good!

Alpharius/Omegon: surprised, they did not think anythig less, yet surprised. They surely did not planned this and it may become a situation in the future.

They will do things you may not like, but they want to keep you out from every dangerous event. Having children mean that they may be open to future attacks and threats, to they'lll act in advance when you're still unaware. That means they'll make their apothecaries transfers the still forming babies in genepods and making them grow away from anyone. No one will know...even you.