#demetrian

A gift is always a good thing, it means that other people care about you so much that they thought of you, even if it's just for a moment. But... so... Why are gifts so painful?

Standing there, trembling and clutching the clothes on her back, she knows full well why she’s in the orphanage director’s office, she knows exactly what’s going to happen.

She had been so tired for a few days now that she could barely keep up with the required work. The instructor had seen her and fearlessly dragged her by her clothes to the principal's office. The older man continued muttering in a deep, hateful tone.

— Damn trash… If I didn’t get any benefit from you, I’d really kill you instantly if you weren’t useful —

Thanks to being a nobleman, he possesses enough money and influence in this hive world. Both the planetary governor and the planetary guard only see the exterior of the orphanage, a sweet and warm place where the local children go to be cared for and filled with the love that was taken from them.

Or so everyone thinks, no one hears the screams, no one hears the blows. No one seems to realize what’s really going on in here. They don't just have fifteen children, they have more than fifty children in the orphanage, but those fifteen children are the ones they show to the world. The rest they hide so they can continue taking advantage of them.

The money they receive from the planetary governor for performing such a great act of charity for poor little orphans is, in turn, sent to them by other nobles who see the orphanage's charitable actions so they can claim to be good people simply because they unwittingly helped some leeches.

It's all such a well-crafted cover-up that no one would suspect that inside the orphanage, beyond the first area, there are hidden small altars praying to a God of the Warp. The strong scent of incense is justified by the fact that a pleasant aroma improves the atmosphere.

— I know you're new, you little piece of trash, but let's get one thing straight here —

He crouches down in front of her with a smile, his large hands rising to her shoulders, holding her tightly, his fingers digging into her bony collarbone.

— We gave you the gift of living on… You little shits without parents, you owe us all —

— ...I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I really so… —

The girl tries to murmur, attempting to explain the situation. The other children who had been in the orphanage longer had warned her that if she complied with everything, she would be fine. She would receive moldy bread and dirty water, but she would get something. If she didn't comply, she would face the wrath of the orphanage director.

While that would be the least of her worries, the worst that could happen would be that she would be handed over to another of these Slaanesh worshippers to do with her body as they pleased.

— ...I'm sorry… —

Before the girl can continue speaking, a loud slap echoes in the room. The girl falls hard, her thin, fragile body hitting the floor with a thud. That would definitely leave bruises. She tries to compose herself while trembling with fear. Tears begin to well up in her eyes, her vision becoming increasingly blurry.

— ...I'm sorry… I'm sorry… —

She looks up and tries to compose herself again, she attempts to apologize once more. If she insisted enough, she thought she might soften the man's heart a little...

Apparently, that wasn't the case. The girl slowly raises her head, gazing at the director of the orphanage. He spits in her face and continues muttering in a deep, disgusted tone. He then raises his leg and kicks her stomach hard, causing her to vomit the bile in her stomach, as she hadn't eaten yet, and it seems she won't.

— Damn kid… Just be quiet and stop being a nuisance —

The man's large hand reaches out toward the girl, grabbing her gray hair covered in dirt and debris, forcefully pulling her toward a small room in the office.

— You truly are a nuisance —

The door bursts open, knocking the girl over. She tumbles and slams against the table in the center of the room. On top of it are several metal utensils stained with a thick layer of dried blood.

— The only reason you worthless beings remain alive is to feed the pleasure of our Lord and Master Slaanesh, every time you cry out in pain, every time you weep in agony… —

He walks calmly around the room. Idols bearing the mark of Slaanesh are scattered throughout the space, and the crackling of coal and firewood resonates. He lets out a chilling laugh as he crouches down to grab the girl by the hair again.

— Let me give you a gift, trash. Just like I did with the rest of the trash in here, I'll give you a gift you'll never forget —

He lifts her up to his face; with his free hand, he tears off the clothes she’s wearing—if you can even call a cloth sack with a few holes clothes. The girl's naked body, eaten away by filth, is malnourished to the point where her ribs stick out from her torso. The bruises and scars spread all over her body are so numerous that they seem like they would never end. After a few seconds of chilling silence, the director throws her back hard against the ground.

The orphanage director rummages around on the table while the little girl tries to compose herself, attempting to evade the danger—in other words, trying to get away from the man approaching her with something that resembles a metal rod with a symbol on the end.

I had seen that symbol before; the symbol hung everywhere, tattooed on the bodies of the elders and burned into the skin of most children.

— I want you to scream, scream in pain, so that our Lord Slaanesh may take pleasure in your suffering —

The girl desperately tries to flee, a sharp blow to her back causes her to fall chest-first onto the floor, losing the little air her lungs can hold.

The principal's thunderous footsteps echo, as if he knows she can't do anything in this situation. No, he doesn't truly know. He knows none of the children he has here can do anything to save themselves from him. The feeling of dominance, the power he holds over these scumbags, courses through her body, creating excitement within her.

— Don't worry, it'll only hurt so much you could die —

His voice is full of mockery. The hand holding the rod moves quickly toward the girl. The red-hot metal tip embeds itself in the little girl's back. In a matter of seconds, the burning pain in her back spreads rapidly. The piercing scream of pain escaping her throat could have ripped her vocal cords, just as it could have alerted everyone in the orphanage to what was happening. After seconds that seemed like an eternity, the director abruptly pulls the rod from the girl's back, tearing off the burned skin along with it.

The smell of burning and metal permeates the room, sealed like cattle, the Mark of Slaanesh scarred red-hot on his back.

The little girl curled up on the floor, trying to hug herself tightly, while she continues to cry and scream in pain.

The noise she's making is so loud that she can't hear the other footsteps echoing, heels that anyone in the room would recognize. She gently crouches down in front of the girl’s body, who is crying non-stop, but the screams she was making slowly begin to drown out until only meaningless noises come out. It seems that her vocal cords were hurt after all. The woman's slender fingers brush the ragged gray hair from the girl's forehead to see her face.

— Oh, my poor, helpless soul… With this mark, no one will help you… Only us… Without us, you will be completely alone… Without us, the worst that can happen to you is death —

The woman's long nails dig into her cheeks, blood dripping onto the floor, while she smiles with a touch of cynicism.

— Be grateful for this beautiful gift we gave you, you little scumbag. At least you'll be useful in your miserable life —

Thunderous laughter echoes in the room as the woman drags the girl out of the office and throws her into the hallway, completely naked and crying.

She can't move, her body is completely unresponsive, and she can only feel the overwhelming pain slowly consuming her. The thought of simply closing her eyes and never opening them again crosses the girl's mind, as if death were the best option at this moment.

Small footsteps sound quickly, running toward the girl. A ragged-looking boy crouches down to her level, pulling out the dirty blanket he has brought and wrapping it around her. His small, scarred, and calloused hand caresses the girl's face.

— …I’m here… —

[ . . . ]

The air catches in her tiny lungs, her body is covered in cold sweat, while she nervously trembles like a small pudding.

She raises her little hands to her cheeks, gently slapping them, trying to push away those bitter and painful memories. It’s hard to forget; it’s truly hard to forget when, the moment you close your eyes, everything comes back to you as if they were chasing you to your grave.

She looks around the room, it's a small room with just a window, a bed, a nightstand with a lamp, and a wardrobe. However, it's completely clean. It's small, but there's not a bit of dirt, no bad smell, and no rotten food hidden under the bed for him to eat when he's so hungry it hurts. There are no... He quickly shakes his head, she has to leave those memories of the past behind him.

The little girl's small body jumps up from her bed, she can't allow herself to be overwhelmed by those memories. She looks at her reflection in the mirror in the room and observes her former scrawny body that is starting to gain some weight. She is still small, she still feels weak, but she doesn't look emaciated like before, she doesn't appear as if she has only a breath of life left.

She can't help but smile softly as she goes to her closet, taking a small stool to reach the area where the nun's habits she had been given hang.

From the first day I set foot in the convent until now, a couple of weeks later, she is still just as grateful, grateful that they are giving her something to eat other than bread made from corpse starch, which is already rotten, water, clean water, water so crystalline that her face can be reflected in it. There is so much she wants to be grateful for, but she doesn't know how to express it; she doesn't know what to say, she doesn't know how to say it. She is afraid, so afraid that if she opens her mouth, everyone will get angry with her and send her back out onto the street.

But all the sisters who were here had treated her so well, however, she could simply think that there was death, and this was merely her subconscious creating a reality so that she could rest in peace.

The first time she arrived in the arms of that great man, she didn't know what to do. She remembers what happened that day.

[ . . . ]

Everything happened so fast that her brain didn't even know how to react, but she remembers one thing clearly: the orphanage door swinging open and the men in blue armor standing beside the planetary guard.

All the children were terrified. The adults at the orphanage had endlessly told them that if the guards found them, they would kill them without hesitation.

And in the blink of an eye, the adults who once abused the children in ways no one could imagine were now on the ground, mutilated by the blow of the armored man's chainsword, while others were disfigured by bolter shots. Blood began to spread like a carpet on the ground as the noise of the chainsword, gunshots, and screams continued to echo. She hugged other children, trying to stay safe, murmuring things in low tones that only children could hear, begging the Emperor not to let them die here, as they had not even been able to live this life to the fullest.

After that, everything was confusing. None of the armed men blamed them. They even helped them leave the place, provided them with good food, and took each of them to a checkup with a Biologis tech-priest.

One of the tech-priests who had been assessing the children's condition coldly stated that none of them were free from pain and suffering. Even more so when they realized the heretical burns they had inflicted on the children, they decided to heal them without saying anything. The extraction process was painful. The children's screams echoed throughout the place, but... at least one of the gifts they had given her at the orphanage was disappearing.

With almost her entire body bandaged except for her head, sitting silently in a chair in the middle of the hallway where the tech-priests were doing their work, the girl continued to fear what would happen to her. The orphanage director had drilled into each of their heads that no one would care for them like they did, no one would care about trash like them, trash that wouldn’t even be good enough as corpse starch to make bread.

Holding her hands tightly, she trembled but didn’t cry.

She didn’t know what she should do, she didn’t know what was the right thing to do in this kind of situation. Should she be pleading for her life?

— Lieutenant Titus —

The tech-priest's robotic voice echoes throughout the room. The girl raises her gaze toward the noise, looking at the man who once carried her in his arms, this time without his helmet.

— All the children are stable. Some show severe signs of malnutrition, but there is one in particular that has raised some concerns —

Titus stares wordlessly at the tech-priest, his arms crossed. When he was assigned the mission, he had not expected this. He thought it would simply be a quick errand, but the moment Chairon saw all the heretical idols in the orphanage, he knew it would not be a quiet one.

After a brief conversation with the tech-priest, Titus strides firmly toward the girl. She quickly looks down at her hands. A man, large enough that his hand could crush her head in one motion, is coming toward her. She was obviously terrified.

He crouches in front of her, kneeling on one knee. His hand rises to his helmet, removing it and setting it aside. Titus's blue eyes gaze at the girl. Even in this situation, he did not expect to see this firsthand. He raises his hand to the girl's head. She instinctively shrinks back, afraid of him. Titus sighs softly.

— Everything will be fine now —

[ . . . ]

A soft knock resounds, bringing the little girl out of her reverie. She walks quickly to the door, standing on tiptoe to open it. She can see one of the convent sisters smiling softly.

— May I come in, little? —

The girl nods several times as she opens the door wider. The sister carries a bucket of water to the side, placing it on her small table as she picks her up and sits her back down on the bed.

— Were you able to sleep well? —

The little girl gently nods, while her sister lifts a towel and begins to softly wipe her face.

The sister is aware of the girl’s nightmares—in fact, everyone in the convent knows about them. They have wanted to approach her several times, but the sister superior said she must face her fears alone, they could only assist her if she asked.

They knew how much she had been through; they knew all too well. Beneath the layers of dirt and dried blood, there was a truly beautiful and sweet little girl.

With her face clean, the sister went to the closet and took out a habit for the little girl. They had to adapt it for her. They had never had girls that young, but they were not going to reject her.

— Let me help you, little. It's still hard for you, isn't it? —

The girl's cheeks flush with embarrassment, but she nods nonetheless. The sister can only laugh softly. It is still difficult for the little girl to move. Until just a few days ago, she couldn't even hold a spoon properly because her hands were shaking.

Everyone has been keeping an eye on this little new sister at the convent, too young to be called; rather, she was brought in by Demetrian Titus after he noticed something about her. The story of what happened to all those children is somewhat grim, and there are times when I wish I didn’t know in such detail what happened to this girl and the others in that orphanage on that hive world.

The sister raises her hand to the girl's cheek; at first, it was difficult. She was afraid of everyone, but she always stayed still. She didn't run away or hide; she only trembled with fear but never complained. She was afraid, but she was more afraid of what they would do to her if she ran away. They also have a copy of the tests that the Biologis Technopriests conducted on her, documenting all the wounds she had and everything those children suffered. They could only get a superficial idea; I personally could have vomited after discovering in detail what happened to them and what they experienced.

The little ones look at their sister's sad face. Her small hands rise to the sister’s cheeks, gently caressing her as she smiles.

She has a vague memory of someone doing this, but she can't recall who it was. The sister comes to, flashing a smile at the little girl. The little one smiles sweetly back, conveying with just a glance how grateful she is for everything. She takes a brush from the small table and begins to groom her somewhat short white hair, as they had to mend much of its damaged and dry ends.

Likewise, in the eyes of all the sisters in the convent, she is undoubtedly beautiful; she is truly beautiful.

— Let's have breakfast, little. After that, we'll do our chores, okay? —

She nods profusely and starts walking toward the door. Her sister shakes her head gently, taking her in her arms and lifting her up.

— Let this sister help you. Today is your day for laundry. I know how much you love hanging clothes —

Perhaps everyone in the convent was giving her preferential treatment, but how could they not? She had no first name, no last name, nothing when she arrived, according to the Emperor. She didn't even have a birth certificate; there was no information about her, and they didn't even know who her parents were. None of them thought it was right to name her without the little girl's permission. There was only one person who would have the right to name her, but in the end, the final decision would be this little girl's.

[ . . . ]

Carrying a small basket in her hands, she walks with all the determination in the world. The sisters who see her pass can only smile and wish the little girl a good day. She returns a big smile, but not a word escapes her lips. When she comes out to the back of the convent, into a farming world, completely calm and peaceful—surprisingly peaceful considering what is happening elsewhere.

There are already several white blankets hanging up, but the small pillowcases the little girl is carrying remain. With a bench already prepared, she climbs onto it and carefully begins to hang each one.

The wind blows with a certain force; the air is fresh and clean, it doesn't smell dirty, and there is not a single gray cloud covering the entire sky. Everything is so beautiful that it seems like a dream.

Her lips part as she glances quickly from side to side, realizing she is completely alone. She begins to hum a small, soft melody, in a tone so faint that the wind itself could drown it out. She is so absorbed in her work that she does not manage to hear the arrival of a landing craft. Had she done so, she would have run away, because there is only one person who would come to this place on a landing craft.

She continues hanging the pillowcases until the wind blows with a certain force. She closes her eyes, her hair completely disheveled. Seconds later, she feels something hard and cold against her back: a gloved hand. She opens her eyes quickly, knowing who it is.

— Hello, little one —

Demetrian Titus isn't the most talkative person, nor is he the best at starting a conversation. Usually, when they talk to him, it's certainly one-sided, but for some reason, the little girl's smile brings a certain comforting feeling to his chest.

The moment the little girl looks at Titus, her smile is so bright it could compete with the sun's rays.

He hasn't been able to stop thinking about the little girl. He has sent things to the convent anonymously for her, but he knows very well that every sister there knows it was him who sent all those little things.

— How have you been? I couldn't make it earlier due to some unfinished business, but I haven't forgotten about you. I hope you're not angry —

She looks at him as she gently shakes her head and smiles again. How ironic it is that this time it's Titus who's doing more talking than the other guy she's been speaking to.

— I’m glad you're doing well, little one. Both Gadriel and Chairon send their regards. I hope you haven't missed anything —

She quickly denies it. Titus can only let out a small laugh at the girl's reaction. Still holding her in his arms, he moves away slightly. She's so small and light that he feels he could break her if he's not careful. She's a girl; children are small. He couldn't have been a boy, but seeing this girl heals something deep inside him.

From the girl's point of view, the Ultramarine is gigantic, more than gigantic—super gigantic. It seems he doesn't even have words to describe how big his opponent looks. Titus crouches down, resting one knee on the ground. He sits in front of the girl, still very tall for her, but at least the difference is less now, and the little girl doesn't have to lift her entire head to see him.

— I've got you a gift, little one —

She blinks several times, processing the words he just said, her body automatically going on the defensive.

All the memories that come with that word overwhelm her at the speed she's recalling them, one after another, over and over again.

The girl's palms begin to sweat, filled with nerves. The gifts she had been given in the past weren't gifts she desired at all; none of them were good. She knows the man in front of her isn't like the orphanage director, but... The scar left by the healing of the burn from the Mark of Slaanesh on her back stings and burns, her knees tremble as her eyes unconsciously fill with tears.

Titus notices the girl's reaction; he seems to have touched on a sensitive subject without realizing it.

She knows the man in front of her is a good person; more than a good person, he is the best person she has ever met. He saved her from that place, got her out of there, and brought her here, but... there’s always a but... her little mind is filled with bitter memories that prevent her from moving on, and she truly believes that anyone who shows kindness is always hiding something.

Titus, realizing the situation, can only pull out what was hidden: a small blue envelope. The girl looks at it and glances at the envelope a few times until Titus brings it closer to her.

— This is your gift. If you don't like it, you can simply tear it up —

He says it as if it doesn't really matter if she tears it up. He knows she won't; she's too polite to do something like that, but he hopes he can ease her mind a little with this.

The girl looks at the envelope, looks at Titus, and then looks back at the envelope. The gold-colored seal seems so elegant and sophisticated. She's afraid of tearing something so beautiful, but under the man's insistent gaze, she slowly opens the envelope, gently taking out a soft beige paper with only one thing written on it.

She looks at the single written word and stares at Titus, somewhat confused, but she understands what it means.

—Do you like it? —

He asks, finding no specific expression on the girl's face. She blinks several times as she gazes at the paper, tears beginning to well up in the girl's eyes. Titus, alarmed when he sees this, raises his hand toward the girl, trying to find a way to stop her from crying.

— If you don't like it, we can find another one. You don't have to force yourself to call yourself that. Someone helped me choose it. I'm not the best at naming people, so… —

Titus's words slowly trail off as he sees her tremble.

— …Thank you… —

The murmur escapes her lips, her voice cracked, broken, weak, and soft. Titus stares at the girl in astonishment. She hadn't spoken at all, not even a single cry of pain when the Slaanesh burn was removed. The nuns at the convent told him she never spoke.

Titus's heart warms when he sees how the girl clutches the paper and the letter tightly to her chest as if she'd been given the most precious thing in her life.

The little girl continues murmuring thank you over and over again, though it becomes less and less clear as she cries. Titus can't help it anymore, and he picks her up, holding her against his chest, while she hugs him tightly in return.

— …Thank you… —

— You have nothing to thank me for, Lilia —

Titus holds her tightly and doesn’t let go. He doesn’t know if it’s because he’s seen how long she’s lived or if he wants to see her live a better life, to see everything the girl once wanted come true.

— …Thank you… —

The first real gift she'd ever received. There was no pain, no mockery, none of what she'd once believed gifts to be… There was only a soft warmth emanating from the Ultramarine's arms, as she heard the thump of his chest, along with gentle pats on her small back.

[ . . . ]

The minutes pass peacefully. Titus, still holding the little girl in his arms, without even thinking of letting her go, walks toward the convent.

— I'm glad you like your name, Lilia —

— …I like it a lot —

— I'm truly so glad. I had to ask for help from someone very important to me —

The little girl's bright eyes stare at Titus, seemingly filled with curiosity now. Titus's gaze softens when he mentions that.

— Who is it? —

— Someone who's my everything, surely she'd know how to take better care of you than I could —

Titus's gentle joke lingers in the air, while the little girl, Lilia, looks at Titus.

— She loves flowers. She helped me choose this name for you when I explained your whole situation to her. She said Lilia would definitely be a perfect name for you, little one, innocent, and full of life —

Lilia blinks several times, curiosity now gnawing at her.

—…What does she look like? —

The man can only smile softly as he talks to the little girl about his partner, describing her, how kind and sweet she is, and also how amazing she can be on the battlefield. He also describes her appearance while the little girl listens intently.

— …She seems amazing —

— She is, she’s looking forward to meeting you—

Titus replies, recalling Theia's words and the sad face he saw when she continued to tell him everything that happened on that supposedly easy mission.

— …She’s really looking forward to meeting me? —

She murmurs her question full of doubt, lowering her gaze, and Titus can only nod and then hug the girl more tightly.

— I swear I do, Lilia, you're an amazing girl, Theia is looking forward to meeting you —

Lilia blinks several times. Since she arrived here, she's only received praise and positive reinforcement from the sisters at the convent, which felt very strange because she sensed those words weren't meant for her. But when Titus said this, something inside her snapped. She hugs Titus even tighter, while he can only smile.

— Thank you... Thank you for everything... Thank you for the gift —

Here's my first Titus fanfic... I really wanted to write about Dad!Titus, I feel like I would be a somewhat inexperienced first-time father.

I don't know if I spelled Titus correctly, but I really liked how this version of Dad! Titus ended.

A quick mention of Theia, because I can't stop thinking that DemeTheia is canon.

Oc's :

Elitheia "Theia" Agni — @hatsubara-8chan

The first rays of light are already peeking through the agricultural world, slipping elusively through the convent windows and directly illuminating the face of the little girl curled up in a ball, hugging two teddy bears—one made in the image of Demetrian Titus and the other in the image of Elitheia Agni.

Lilia lets out a small moan as she feels her head being struck by an invisible hammer. Her face is completely red, and she's sweating so much that a thick layer of it covers her skin. She's been tossing and turning all night, unsure of what to do, as everything is painful and uncomfortable. Even though she is suffering from a fever, she didn’t tell anyone how bad she felt.

Like her lungs, she's gasping for air almost all the time. Even when she breathes, it’s as if she is suffocating. It’s the same feeling she had when the director's lover grabbed her slender neck with her bony hands. The little girl closes her eyes tightly, trying to erase that image from her mind.

Lying on her side, hugging the two bears and crying silently, even if she is slowly forgetting the past, she still has memories that won’t fade away—emotional wounds that still need to heal. She can remember how, in the past, she couldn’t complain when she got sick. She remembers all too well what would happen if the director of the orphanage heard that a child was ill: a sure beating, pain worse than what she would endure from the sickness.

“— The garbage is thrown away —”

The little girl opens her eyes wide as the headmaster's voice echoes in her mind. With teary eyes, she finds herself looking at the two bears she's cuddling. She wants to call them, but she doesn't know what to call them. She wishes to refer to him as Dad and her as Mom. She doesn’t want to address him as Lord Titus and her as Lady Elitheia like the other sisters in the convent do. Yet something inside her prevents her from naming them that way. Rather, it’s a fear that will never go away.

She’s so afraid that Demetrian Titus and Elitheia Agni will discover that the garbage is thrown away that she doesn’t want to get her hopes up, even though from the first moment she met them, they were kind and sweet, even spoiling her with gifts she couldn't have dreamed of.

The fear of emotional attachment haunts her; she’s terrified of clinging to them and growing attached, only to be discarded.

Small whimpers escape her every time she tries to move; her head feels as though it is going to explode if she keeps moving. Tears stream down her cheeks, yet she doesn’t cry at all. She remains silent, trying to wipe her tears and sweat with the sheet.

She forces herself to move, forces herself to get up and say everything's okay even though she feels like she will faint from the pain at any moment.

Gentle knocks on the door alert her. She feels so sick and confused. Her small room in the convent shifts to the dirty, moldy room in the orphanage, filled with rotten things and items stained with heretical Slaanesh symbols, where more than fifty children huddle together, trying not to die of hypothermia.

— Lilia? Are you still asleep, little one? I'm coming in —

Sister Eva's voice echoes, bringing her back to the convent room. The sister opens the door, revealing the scene: a small white ball hugging her teddy bears and covered by the sheets.

— Haven't you been able to sleep well, Lilia? —

The sister asks again, noticing that the little girl in the bed isn't responding, but she does see the little girl trembling beneath the covers.

Lilia had never been capricious; no matter the situation, she always woke up to help out at the convent, so this is certainly new for Sister Eva.

Sister Eva quickly approaches the little girl, her hand instinctively moving to the girl's head when she feels her red, hot, feverish face. The touch of Eva's cold hand on Lilia's forehead makes the little girl let out a small sigh of relief. The sister notices the tears streaming down Lilia's face, her chest pounding; she's starting to feel a little upset. Who are we kidding? She's completely upset right now.

— I'll get a bucket of cold water and a cloth. I'll also inform Lord Titus and Lady Elitheia about your condition. Hang in there, little one —

The sister says, Lord Titus has become Lilia's legal guardian after a private conversation with the convent's senior sister. No one knows what happened in the office, but Senior Sister Elizabeth surely opened Lord Titus's eyes, while Lady Elitheia is Lord Titus's partner, so it would also be right to inform her in a situation like this.

Lilia's eyes narrow as she sees Sister Eva quickly recover and almost run out the door. The little girl raises her hand toward the door.

— Wait... Don't leave me alone... Please... Coal, I'm scared —

That last murmur ends with her soft voice breaking. When she realizes she’s completely alone in the room, she feels so alone that she's terrified. Her mind begins to spin with all sorts of scenarios.

Her convent room shifts to the orphanage again and again, like images flashing before her eyes.

— …Coal… I'm scared… —

She murmurs that name again as she stops hugging the teddy bears and curls into a ball, wrapping her legs and burying her head completely under the covers. She begins to cry loudly, biting her lip in an attempt to muffle the sobs.

“—Shhh… Calm down, Bean, I'm here. I won't let them hurt you— ”

That voice echoes in Lilia's head, hoarse and broken but still as sweet and kind as she remembers. She closes her eyes tightly as memories of the past quickly begin to drown her.

[ . . . ]

Soft footsteps are heard walking toward the girl lying on the floor. The little girl holds her breath, fearing it might be an inspector sent by the orphanage director to check on the children. She closes her eyes tightly as she tries to stop the tears from coming. She listens as he stays still and crouches down in front of her.

She's afraid of opening her eyes and getting hit, so she prefers to continue pretending she's asleep. To the girl's surprise, a small, calloused hand caresses her cheek.

— ...It's me, Bean —

That voice, which the girl would recognize anywhere, makes her slowly open her eyes, seeing the child's face completely covered in dirt.

— ...Coal —

She murmurs toward the boy, who only nods as he helps her sit on the lap of the boy several years older than her. Coal, as everyone knew this boy, was the oldest in the orphanage, always covered in coal because the most capable children were sent to the mine to help extract minerals. In the eyes of the planet's nobles, they were sweet children who wanted to help the orphanage that cared for them so much, which is why no one questioned why there were children in the mine.

The boy searches in his pocket for a small, battered, and dirty leather canteen.

— It's clean water, the miners gave it to me. You should drink a little and then eat something —

Coal's voice is soft, trying not to wake the other children or alert any adults in the orphanage.

Coal tightly hugs the girl's thin body, trying to keep her from falling as she's so sick, helping her drink the clean, cool water. After taking two small sips, her body feels a little relieved almost instantly.

The boy looks at her silently, letting out a small sigh of relief. For some reason, ever since Bean—what he'd nicknamed her after the first few days of watching her sleep like a bean—arrived at the orphanage, the director's mistress had become increasingly present, punishing the girls there.

Being one of the older children, I always try to help the other kids. I save my rations from the mine for any child who had been punished by missing a meal, and I take care of anyone who gets sick so the director won't beat them.

Coal's hand rises toward the little girl's forehead, so small for a ten-year-old, so thin she looks like a tree branch that would break at any breath of wind, but with the brightest smile of all.

The girl struggles to stay awake; she's tired. The small piece of bread she was eating remains in her hand after three microscopic bites.

— Everything's okay... You can sleep, Bean. . . I'll protect you as always —

Still in Coal's arms, Bean nods, slowly falling asleep on Coal's chest, listening to his heartbeat.

The mere presence of Coal in such a place is completely comforting for the children of the orphanage.

Small moans of pain escape her lips between soft gasps; the little girl's eyes slowly open, looking from side to side. Perhaps it’s because she's sick or because she's still half asleep, but she still doesn’t realize she’s in someone's arms.

Her soft breathing is the only thing he hears. Seconds later, he also notices Coal's breathing as he holds her in his arms, never having stopped protecting her.

The girl's smile slowly spreads; she really doesn’t know what would have happened to her if Coal hadn't been in the orphanage.

— …Thank you —

She murmurs so as not to wake the boy. It seems he stayed wide awake all night and only decided to get some rest in the morning.

[ . . . ]

Lilia's eyes slowly open, noticing the cold, damp cloth on her forehead. A soft hand clasps her small hand. Until her eyes adjust to the light, her vision is blurred. She blinks several times until she realizes there are two adults in the room, Demetrian Titus and Elitheia Agni. He stands at the side of the bed, occasionally checking the cloth on the girl's forehead to moisten it again. She gently holds the girl's hand, praying soft prayers to the Emperor.

The first person to realize she is awake is Elitheia, who, while still holding the girl's hand, composes herself slightly, raising her hand to the little girl's cheek, wiping away the tears that have fallen down her face. To say they were both scared is an understatement. When Sister Eva's holo message reached Demetrian, it took him no more than two seconds to almost run to one of the dropships and fly toward the little girl without looking back. He and his partner had agreed to see the little girl together, but he hadn't expected his little surprise for her to turn out like this.

Without a second thought, he notified Elitheia, and they headed toward the agricultural world. The last thing they heard were some comments from Gadriel and Leandros. And that's how an Astarte and a Sororita Adepta almost broke down the convent door in search of the girl. It took them no more than fifteen minutes to arrive. If there were speed limits, they probably would have broken them just to get there quickly.

Demetrian's sigh resonates in the room, filled with relief at seeing his little daughter's face awake. He bends down, raising his large hand to remove the cloth from the little girl's forehead. She still seems quite bewildered and certainly lost. She hasn't spoken a word yet, only staring at the two of them in the room over and over.

— Lilia? —

It's Theia who breaks the silence, bringing her face closer to the little girl's, touching her forehead against hers, noticing that her temperature has dropped noticeably.

— How are you feeling, my little girl? —

Theia's sweet, soft voice is all the little girl hears right now.

The room falls completely silent again as Elitheia and Demetrian wait for any reaction from the little girl. She only blinks a few times and gives them the biggest smile on the planet.

— ...Mommy... Daddy... —

The moment she calls them that, they both react instantly. Warmth begins to fill the room. Elitheia smiles warmly in return as she lifts the sheet a little and gets into bed with the little girl.

— Yes, my dear daughter? —

He hugs her to his chest while Lilia settles a little more. It seems that the storm has passed and now calm has arrived. Titus, who had been completely frozen watching the situation, moves a little closer to his partner and his… daughter. It's still so strange to him, but it's strange in a good way. It's something he's never experienced. He grew up and matured, filled with rage, but right now he can only feel the warmth and love overflowing in the place.

Elitheia gestures to her partner, as if squeezing herself a little further onto the bed to make room for him. Even though the bed is small, I don't think Lilia would complain at all about being sandwiched between her two favorite people.

— ...Thank you for being here with me —

Lilia murmurs, closing her eyes again, as they hug her.

— You have nothing to thank us for, my little one. We'll always be with you, we'll never leave you alone, right my dear? —

Elitheia looks at Demetrian, and he nods automatically. As I said before, this is the first time he's felt such warmth, this is the first time he's felt such peace.

— Never, no matter where you are, we'll always take care of you, Lilia. Don't ever think for a second that we're going to leave you, my little one —

— Thank you... Daddy... Mommy —

Elitheia's eyes gaze so sweetly at the little girl as she continues to murmur "Mommy" and "Daddy" Demetrian slowly brings his hand up to Lilia's face, caressing his daughter's small, fleshy cheeks with his large thumb.

— Stop being thankful, Lilia... Mommy and Daddy will always take care of you —

Another little story of the little Titus/Agni family!

It's a bit short but I loved the result and didn't want to add filler.

Also featured in this chapter is Coal! He's my first male Oc for Wh40K ( ՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞ )

Soon when I have time I will make some drawings of Coal and Bean (Lilia)

✨💕