tldr; Roboute Guilliman from WH40K swaps places with Roboute Guilliman from WH30K—dimension travel fic.
Full premise is on this post.
Chapters:
> Ch. 1
> Ch. 2
> Ch. 3
> Ch. 4
> Ch. 5
> Ch. 6
> Ch. 7
> Ch. 8
> Ch. 9
> Ch. 10
> Ch. 11
> Ch. 12
> Ch. 13
> Ch. 14
> Ch. 15
You can also find me and this fic on ao3. If the link doesn't work, the title and my username are the same there. This is my primary fic.
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#2: The Divine Marriage
tldr; Three hundred years into the Indomitus Crusade, the Imperium has collectively decided that their beloved God-Emperor and Uncrowned Monarch (Roboute Guilliman) must be married! (CRACKFIC!)
Chapters:
> Ch. 1
> Ch. 2
> Ch. 3
> Ch. 4
> Ch. 5
> Ch. 6
> Ch. 7
> Ch. 8
> Ch. 9
You can also find me and this fic on ao3. If link doesn't work, the title and my username are the same there. This is my secondary fic (I use it to clear my writer's block for my primary fic).
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Hope yall enjoy what I've written so far! Yap in the comments if you want; I don't mind.
I will update this masterpost whenever I finish new chapters! Updates will prob be sporadic cuz I'm a slow/nitpicky writer.
Not sure if you’ve answered this before, but in Galaxy of Ghosts, Roboute comments on how close the Primarchs of this universe seem to be compared to his/the one we know as canon.
Is this due to his arrival and the Primarchs suddenly having an epitome that the brothers they thought as invincible were actually not? Have they always been like this but due to not being in close contact with each other, this friendliness is something rarely seen? Or maybe Roboute/canon Primarchs just got the bad timeline where they all hate each others’ guts.
Looking forward to the next chapter! (No rush ofc! Saw that you just updated Divine Marriage)
This is mainly just Robu being an unreliable narrator, unknowingly causing some butterfly effects, and not having all the details!
Horus, Sangy, and Fulgrim (no-brainer) are the "same", as far as Robu is concerned, because, well, they've always been very affectionate and whatnot (in both Robu’s past and here)! Their concern and care is very easy to notice!
But here comes the "different" ones!
You have Dorn, who's fairly emotionally constipated. Unless a situation arises where he can/has to be comforting, he won't. This was mostly the case in Robu’s past.
But with Robu’s arrival in 30k, this Dorn now has a weeping Konrad to hover over...
Then, ofc, there's Magnus and Konrad. They went on a months-long journey together to discover why the future is dead and reach Terra (which was only possible bc of Robu’s arrival). Thus, they are now closer to each other (and saner + healthier, in Konrad's case) than Robu’s Magnus and Konrad ever were. But Robu doesn't know about this journey they had; he's only seeing the outcome!
So these Primarchs all seem closer than they actually are/would be usually!
And because these are the only 30k Primarchs Robu has met so far, he is using them as his sample group and assuming that this is the case for ALL the Primarchs here! That they... are all close to each other, in ways Robu and his brothers never were, and Robu... has kinda screwed things up by stealing 30k Guilliboy's place...
I know this will never happen (or maybe it will as like a gag or something) but what do you think the wedding outfits would probably look like? Like what propaganda did Gman have to spend a good but making to be put in the propaganda books?
Hope your doing well and cant wait to see what you do next :3!!
Hmm...
Well, I can see two possibilities for what their wedding outfits might be like:
On one hand: Go full Roman/Greek attire. Togas, chitons, laurels, etc. Macragge is Rome in Space, and the Emperor prob lived in Rome at one point in His long-ass life.
On the other hand: Could do more formal, Imperial wear. The harsh, clean suits with lots of badges, a cape, etc. Doubt either Robu or Emps would really like it or actually ever wear it for their wedding but... if it's for propaganda purposes...
There's definitely already some paintings, murals, graffiti, and other artworks floating around of Robu and Emps on their wedding day. The zealots are just making shit up and dressing them in what they consider proper wedding attire (one icy planet might insist on furs and cloaks; another planet might believe they ought to be almost naked "for the consummation to come!").
But I will say [SPOILERS]! The "wedding" will be mentioned next chapter! As Robu and his bros lie about how the wedding went, what they all did during it, etc.! This may/may not include Robu and Emp's outfits and... their vows.
Anyways, thanks for the concern, anon! I'm still pushing thru the recent trouble in my life, but I have been feeling better! 😊😊😊
Hey so Im not sure if this is going to be brought up or anything but in Divine marriage do the chaos space marines know about the marriage? Are they denying it and spreading chaos or do they genuinely think that a whole marriage happened and they just didn't notice?
Love your writing and just had the burning image in my head of some (not) poor space marine desperately trying to remember if they went to a big wedding or not with there bros and dad
The Chaos Space Marines (those still sane, at least) have def heard of the Corpse-Emperor and Roboute's marriage by now! And much like their traitor dads, they have connected the dots that, "oh, this is just some political scheme for the Imperium's sake; gotta raise morale and cohesion somehow!"
But ALSO like their dads, some of the Chaos Space Marines are questioning, "wait... why are they still married in the Warp, then, as the Dark King and the Dreamer? And also, why are the Regent-Consort's gifts so... numerous and romantic?"
The Heretics don't remember ever attending some grand wedding between the Emperor and the XIIIth Primarch during the Great Crusade! So did the two... fall in love and marry recently—and now they're embellishing their relationship for propaganda purposes???
Fanfic writers, reblog if you’re okay with people sharing the links to your fics to their friends and/or for fic rec posts without having to ask for your permission first
(I saw a debate about whether or not it was okay for people to share fic links around without asking the authors first, since some authors may not be comfortable with the links to their fics being shared around on twitter or tumblr. so I thought this post could be a blanket permission for authors who were okay with the links to their fics being shared around!)
In Divine Marriage, has the marriage affected gene stealers? Like, they believe in the four-armed Emperor, who is based on the Imperium's worship of the God Emperor. Since the Emperor has a consort, do they believe that the four-armed Emperor now has a consort?
Like, would they believe that Roboute is the consort, or do they see it as more of a metaphor for the gene stealer infection? That being infected is like being a consort for the 4-armed Emperor.
[Be warned: I'm not the most interested in Tyranids, so much of their lore may still be lost on me. But based upon what I DO know—]
Possibly?
I could see it going either way.
On one hand, the gene-stealers need to stay perfectly disguised to prepare for the arrival of the Tyranids. Thus, they may very well start adding Roboute into their theology to keep with the trends, expand further, and not get sniffed out.
But on the other hand, it... might be kinda hard to fit Roboute into their already-established theology? Like, the Four-Armed Emperor is the Patriarch (or whatever the tyranid rank is). Who will/can Robu be if the Uncrowned Monarch is the Emperor’s EQUAL?
Another possibility is that some gene-stealers might start a separate cult that worships a distorted version of the Uncrowned Monarch, just like how the Four-Armed Emperor came to be, and use that for the same exact purpose of preparing for the Tyranids' arrival. That might catch the Deathwatch off guard (along with what few Imperial forces are truly aware of the threat of the gene-stealers).
I just inhaled all posts on your raised on Nuceria!Roboute AU, and they are GLORIOUS. But now I can't stop thinking - what would the reactions be to him and canon 30k!Roboute swapping? Like. Roboute: Why do everyone like me better here? Robouen: *bonking Angron*. Also, Angron's Legion and Robouen's compared reactions (idk, the swap was ship-wide and dragged some of their sons with them). Roboute getting super protective if Tarasha the moment he hears she was hurt. Robouen being happy with how good local blueberries are doing and taking notes (since Roboute would have more time to educate them) and leaving advice for his counterpart (having vacations and outdoors activities help with morale, as well as giving more hugs). Just. AAAAAAA. AU SO GOOD I'M KICKING MY FEET IN DELIGHT
[This is related to this long post.]
Oh, yes! I've daydreamed of such a scenario before! It's very interesting and would have so many feels!
Maybe just Roboute and Robouen's flagships get lost in the Warp and swapped? Thus, it's only them and a fraction of their Legion that now find themselves surrounded by unknown sons/brothers (because, y'know, the borders of the two Ultramars are very different and have little overlap, so the Astartes they recruited for the XIIIth Legion are also different, aside from the OG Alpha intake of Terrans) and in an unknown alternate universe.
I'll start with Roboute's side of things, which is much calmer and slightly less eventful.
For starters, best believe the AU!Blueberries swarm him (after figuring out that "oh, Dad and his flagship got swapped with this new Dad and these new brothers, but according to them, Dad shouldn't be in much danger in that other universe"). They are... utterly gob-smacked and possibly crying at the fact that—
"No Nails," whispers Romanus Regulus, the Second Chapter-Master of this alternate Ultramarine Legion. He has no counterpart in Roboute’s Legion; Roboute has long run through all the names and faces of his sons in his mind and confirmed it. "You—you have no Nails..."
All of Regulus' surrounding brothers, more unknown Ultramarines, echo him. Their eyes, hidden beneath helms or not, are all wide and locked onto Roboute’s scalp, where only a laurel wreath rests atop his cropped hair.
Roboute does not frown, though he wishes to. Until this matter is solved, he must continue to project confidence before all his sons, lest fear and anxiety crush them and their wills.
"'Nails'? By that, are you referring to the Butcher's Nails?" he asks. It is the only term he can conceive that might drive their current wonder and fascination with his hale appearance.
With a quick glance around, Roboute notes that none of these alternate Ultramarines bear any emblems or symbols of Macragge. Proof that his counterpart did not land on Macragge but elsewhere. On Nuceria, perhaps? Or some other planet with access to the Butcher's Nails?
Regulus nods lightly, as if he's barely registered Roboute's question. Then, he begins to step closer.
In unison, Marius and the rest of Roboute's sons tense around him; their confusion toward this unknown brother is palpable in the air. It is only after he waves his hand at them that they relax and allow Regulus close.
One of Regulus' hands raises. Aimed for his head.
Curiosity—and a hint of compassion for these sons, whose Primarch is... wounded and may be treating them as Angron does his World Eaters—drives Roboute to lower himself, only slightly, enough for Regulus' hand to touch the top of his head and rest in his blonde hair.
A choked gasp leaves Regulus, followed by sudden sobs. Tears rapidly swell in and seep from his eyes.
His brothers quickly mirror him. Some lean against each other as they weep; others draw near to Roboute, as well, to touch him first before they cry.
"You're whole!"
"Our Primarch is whole!"
"No Nails!"
Eventually, after this feast of tears, Roboute manages to get more information from the AU!Blueberries. More specifically, on all the ways this universe differs from his.
He learns:
-> Indeed, his counterpart, "Robouen Lykaros," did not land on Macragge but on Nuceria. Likewise, the XIIth of this universe landed on Macragge, becoming "Angronius Guilliman". Perhaps the two planets are so (relatively, given this is space) close that the primarch pods of the XIIth and XIIIth... switched destinations? Or something along those lines?
-> Robouen Lykaros was found 17th, very late. But! When the Emperor did find him, He found not a slave or a madman, but the Lord of Ultramar! For Roboute's counterpart, just like him, was inspired by the ancient tales of the Human Federation and created the Realm of Ultramar!
-> Unfortunately, Robouen Lykaros does bear the Butcher's Nails, and, much like with Angron, the Emperor of this universe failed to remove them. But hope is not dead! To this day, Robouen Lykaros and all of Ultramar's brightest minds continue to research and toil to invent a solution (bc, apparently, this new Ultramar successfully negotiated for more innovation rights when joining the Imperium).
-> Thankfully, despite being inflicted with the Nails, Robouen Lykaros does not treat his sons cruelly. No. If anything, he is very kind and warm, if always tense and silent. He has trained his sons... somewhat differently from how Roboute has—but, nonetheless, to the best of his abilities!
-> The other primarchs of this alternate universe are much the same as Roboute's brothers, if occasionally found a year or two later/earlier. That's it.
Following these revelations, Roboute orders the entire Legion (+ his own flagship and sons) to make for Terra. The Emperor, hopefully, will be able to help; at the very least, He and Lord Malcador must be informed of the loss of their XIIIth Primarch.
During this travel, Roboute's learns even more shocking info...
Because why does his counterpart have access to a direct channel to the Emperor (as in, the moment an astropath of the XIIIth Legion contacts Terra, the Emperor will be informed and receive the message personally—unless He's in an extra important meeting, ofc)?! Is Robouen Lykaros actually close to/favored by the Emperor?!
His counterpart even had/has Custodes assigned to him (bc, when he first joined the Crusade, he asked the Emperor to "borrow" some; now, alongside his "Victrix Guards", the Custodes help protect him and keep up with him in battle, when the Nails are especially loud)! Custodes that were on his flagship and, thus, also swapped! In fact, Custodes from Roboute's universe have actually landed on Terra, in the Imperial Palace, and made the Emperor aware of Robouen's loss before Roboute even contacted Him!
Yadda, yadda, yadda.
Roboute arrives on Terra and meets the Emperor, who is quietly shocked by the sight of him (because THIS is what He planned and crafted His XIIIth to be, only for Nuceria and the Nails to break him—). He gives his report and theories on how/why this happened (read: warp shenanigans), then requests assistance on returning home. In exchange, Roboute shall fulfill all of Robouen's duties whilst he is here.
Ultimately, the Emperor agrees. Mostly out of pragmatism (can't be losing another Primarch, can He?), but also out of sheer curiosity of how this untouched, healthy XIIIth will operate in comparison to His XIIIth (Emps is still a scientist and researcher at heart, even if He rarely shows it).
They also agree to have all the AU!Primarchs gathered on Terra to be told the news of Robouen's loss and also be introduced to his (hopefully) temporary replacement, Roboute Guilliman.
While he waits, Roboute rounds up the canon!Custodes who got dragged into this. They all gotta stick together now, even if he knows the Custodes have never liked him or the rest of the Primarchs. They're all from the same universe!
At the same time, Roboute also agrees to help the AU!Blueberries with developing a cure for the Nails—in that, he lets them scan his brain and body a ton, to serve as reference for what a healthy XIIIth should look like.
He also (after politely requesting to and going over all his counterpart's notes/plans/etc.) begins optimizing the AU!Blueberry Legion (since his mind is whole and he can dedicate more time to it). In a slightly different direction from his own, of course, to account for his counterpart's affliction (for this displacement will be undone, and Roboute's kindness of improving the Legion will not be a kindness at all if his counterpart cannot use those new/changed systems).
All nice things to busy himself with.
Finally, the AU!Primarchs all arrive on Terra. Many of them (especially those close to Robouen) are utterly shocked and enthralled by the sight of Roboute. At first, some of them even mistake him for Robouen, whose plans + research have finally succeeded and the Nails have been removed—but, ofc, that notion is quickly shot down...
This is when Roboute realizes... how much more well-liked his counterpart is by his brothers.
And that... kinda hurts? Not because he's jealous (ok, maybe only a bit)—but because of what it implies: he needs to have hurt (in a similar way to them, in a way they can empathize with, in a way that doesn't threaten their egos) for them to understand or like him.
... Roboute hopes that's just his tumultuous emotions causing him to jump to conclusions, but he doesn't know.
Anyways! Onto the interesting bit!
By the time Roboute meets Angronius Guilliman, he already knows some bits and shit about him and his past (he had a lot of free time on his hand these past weeks and felt the need to prepare for meeting these other primarchs). But only some things because, tyrant that he is, Angronius has covered up or destroyed a fair amount of his past. He doesn't like being reminded of it (read: his happy childhood, Konor's death, and how he fucked up thereafter).
Roboute will, at first, greet Angronius kindly. They both are Guilliman's and, thus, kinda brothers two-fold (created by the Emperor and raised by Konor + Tarasha).
Then he asks:
"Where is Lady Euten? Is she here with you, or is she on Macragge?"
And everything quickly goes downhill.
Because Roboute discovers just how bad Angronius' relationship with Tarasha is, including the fact that he harmed her! His own adoptive mother! All because Angronius refused to move on from the trauma of Konor's death and Tarasha dared to correct him!
Best believe, Roboute seriously ponders whether or not to punch Angronius in the face. If not for the political consequences and the presence of his own Tarasha (who Angronius is utterly horrified to see), he probably would have!
(And while he's silently fuming, the AU!Primarchs, Emps, and Malcy all catch sparse glimpses of Robouen in him.)
_____
Now, onto Robouen(or Ben)'s side of things!
For obvious reasons, the moment the canon!Blueberries meet Robouen and his sons, they sorta freak out because A.) Dad is gone and B.) they now have a new Dad, who's not actually Dad but is similar enough that their gene-forged instincts (to protect Dad) kinda start going haywire—because what do you mean Dad is hurt?! What do you mean he has the Nails?!
Just like Roboute, the canon!Blueberries all get a basic rundown on Robouen's past, what his universe is like, etc.
Then they promptly haul ass to Terra.
Similar to AU!Emps, the Emperor has mysteriously lost, like, five Custodes. He is not pleased when He figures out why and meets Robouen (His XIIIth was perfectly sane and competent; now... He might have a second Angron on His hands).
Cue a subtle interrogation by Emps (which Robouen... doesn't really notice, like, at all, since his mind is often foggy from the Nails—unless he deliberately locks in, which this perfectly innocent dinner Emps invited him to does not require). He is glad to learn that Robouen, despite his less fortunate upbringing on Nuceria, is fairly similar to Roboute, in morals and ideals. Also, Robouen and his Emperor actually have an amicable relationship; at the very least, they don't hate each other; unlike Angron, Robouen has, at no point, ever blamed his Emperor for failing to save him in time or for failing to remove the Nails.
Though—
"Why did You create Your Primarchs?"
The question from this new XIII is sudden—so much so that Malcador briefly exchanges a glance with his liege.
So far, since his arrival this morning, the XIIIth has proven to be a silent observer. A single gesture from him and his sons, their armors emblazoned with the constellations of Nuceria yet their scalps unmarred by the Nails, would speak in his place. Or the Custodes would; according to his and their testimonies, they were assigned to him by that other Emperor decades ago. To protect him in battle, should the Nails drive him to acts of folly.
This XIII, Robouen Lykaros, is no stranger to his Emperor. To some degree, he may even be favored.
Yet he asks such an odd question. These are the first words they have heard from his lips, low and raspy.
Malcador sets down his cutlery to inquire on his liege's behalf, "Why do you ask?"
"If I am to remain in this universe for some time and assume the place of my counterpart, I wish to form a proper opinion of the man I will soon serve," the XIIIth explains easily, only pausing to take a mechanical sip of his wine, "hence my question."
He and his liege exchange another glance, then return their gazes to the odd XIIIth.
"... Will My answer improve Your opinion of Me?" the Emperor asks, in a blunt manner Malcador has not seen Him indulge in centuries, since revealing Himself as the Emperor of Man.
Unfortunately, they have both learned in the past hours that subtlety is not an option with this XIIIth—simply because he will not notice or respond to it, and neither his sons nor Custodes can be present for this private dinner. Just as with Angron, the Nails have stolen much from him; even now, they cause visible twitches on his face and tremors in his hands.
"Depends," the XIIIth says curtly. His face is blank; in the Warp, his presence is similarly placid, until— "Was Your reason the same as my Emperor's? I dislike Him for it."
Blunt, Malcador thinks. The slightest urge to smile comes and goes. Very blunt.
With this answer, his liege pivots the conversation. "You dislike Him?"
The XIIIth does not notice. Theirs would have.
"Yes," he confirms, while his hands continue dividing the food on his plate into neat groups for efficient consumption. "He did not create us to be His sons, as He proclaims us. Not entirely. We are His Primarchs, His generals for His Crusade."
Ripples stretch across the surface of his waters in the Warp.
"Though I understand that multiple things may be true at once in many scenarios, I have also read that parenthood is not considered to be amongst those acceptable scenarios—for an ideal parent is meant to conceive their children for love, not for use."
So the XIIIth refuses to claim his Emperor as his father. An anomaly, considering how eager and proud most other Primarchs were and still are—in their universe and likely his, as well.
"I have disliked Him since our first meeting," the XIIIth goes on. "But I know: this feud is one-sided and petty. Thus, I have never allowed it to affect the Crusade's progress or the wider Imperium."
His blue eyes raise from his plate to meet the Emperor’s, and, for a single second, they are not glazed.
"That will be the same here," he assures—so calmly and confidently that Malcador can almost see the image of their XIIIth, Roboute Guilliman, overlapping him. "Even if Your answer is unsavory, I will only—"
He cuts himself off. In just a breath, his expression has pinched, lips pursed and eyes tight at the corners.
Pain.
The Nails. Punishing him for some unseen crime only they know.
Malcador hears his liege take an audible breath beside him. Though it has been decades since Angron's retrieval from Nuceria, His fury at the Nails and what it has stolen will never truly abate; the sight of this afflicted XIII, whose greatest—healthiest—self they know well, only stokes that old rage.
Eventually, after several moments that were too long and silent, the XIIIth's posture loosens.
But his eyes are foggy again, as if ice has crawled over the windows into his soul, and he does not speak. He only glances around—at the walls, the table, its occupants—as if seeing it anew.
As if...
Now, Malcador must breathe deeply. As he does, he can see his liege's hands tightening atop the table, no longer pretending to touch His plate or goblet.
... the XIIIth has forgotten the past few seconds. Potentially minutes, or even hours at worst. Another symptom of the Nails—once only recorded in the Emperor’s notes, when He still believed the Nails could be removed from Angron, but now witnessed in-person.
Gently, in a way His current golden facade is not so suited for, the Emperor probes:
"If you found My answer unsavory, what would you do?"
The XIIIth does not answer immediately. When he at last does, his voice is faint.
"... Yes," he murmurs, then nods. "Yes, I remember. I would do to You what I do to my Emperor."
Evidently, the effects of the Nails have not completely worn off just yet.
"And what is that?" the Emperor asks, tone still gentle.
The XIIIth blinks slowly. Once, twice, thrice. Malcador almost fears he has forgotten himself again, until—
"I would irritate you."
Which leads to canon!Emps and Malcy learning the specifics of Robouen's, frankly, WEIRD relationship with his Emperor.
As it turns out, Robouen ("to express my distaste for Him in a healthy manner, without putting myself at risk of losing control of the Nails or delaying the Crusade and harming innocents") has been irritating his Emperor for decades now! Ever since being found!
By...
Sending gifts!
This scheme was born in the first few years following his discovery. Here was his thought process:
"First theoretical: The Emperor is OLD (though He will not give me the specifics, even when I ask), so ordinary methods of irritation will not suffice. He has witnessed them all and gained the necessary callouses to weather them."
"Second theoretical: The Emperor loves Mankind. Otherwise, He would not have launched the Great Crusade."
"Third theoretical: The Emperor is extremely intelligent and aware; we Primarchs are designed after Him. Thus, He can notice every tiny detail around Him and may even feel compelled to do so at all times."
"Practical: I will gather fragments of ancient Mankind—be it artifacts, books, or DNA of extinct fauna and flora—and send them to Him as gifts. While they are transit, I shall delay them."
(Yes, Ben does use the whole "theoretical" and "practical" thing, too. It helps keep his mind organized and efficient and we all know how difficult the Nails make that!)
To confirm this theory (and not waste his precious, sparse thoughts on this), Robu just straight-up ASKED (decades ago, when he was first found) if Emps would like to receive some ancient artifacts he recently found and... Emps said YES (so anticipation and interest? Secured)!
So he sent the first gift...
And DELAYED it! By, like, a week (he was still experimenting on what length of delay would cause maximum irritation)! So Emps would not know when it'd arrive and spend days constantly wondering about it (so irritation? Achieved), possibly counting down the seconds themselves and checking ship arrivals!
To check if his first gift(?) was successful, Robu, again, just asked Malcador bluntly if Emps was annoyed by the "unexpected" delay. Malcador eyed him weirdly but said yes.
So success!
And Robouen's kept up this (essentially) campaign of annoying gifts ever since! Even after Emps and Malcy realized what he was doing ("why would I halt my actions? That You are now aware will only heighten Your irritation, for You know I am doing this deliberately and succeeding. Furthermore, You desire the gifts I send You; You do not want them to stop. And this is ultimately a harmless outlet of my dislike of You, so You will not command me to desist")!
And now, Robouen's sorta threatening/promising to do the same to canon!Emps—if He earns his dislike!
(And yes, canon!Emps and Malcy have just been staring at him as he explains all this. Like, why is this XIIIth unironically closer to his Emperor and knows Him better than most Primarchs?)
...
But onto what you really want to read about!
The confrontation between Robouen and Angron (because, oh, it IS a confrontation)!
However, I must set the scene first!
Just like in the AU universe (where Roboute now is), the canon!Primarchs are all recalled to Terra to meet Robouen and learn about Roboute's disappearance. Important logical shit, yknow?
Naturally, all the Primarchs are very surprised by Robouen (this XIIIth Primarch, their... technical brother from another universe, who landed on Nuceria and not Macragge... It seems the XIIIth is not lucky in every universe) and the Nails in his head. They're even MORE surprised when they begin learning about his childhood on Nuceria and realize: Robouen is a LOT like Roboute, in spite of their differing childhoods. They both are so hopeful; they both built empires (Ultramar); they both are so precise and composed (or rather, silent in Robouen's case); etc.
(Best believe the canon!Primarchs are MOST surprised by the squadron of Custodes following Robouen. Because, apparently, HIS Emperor made accommodations for him and his condition. They're... close? Or, at least, don't have a fraught relationship—unlike Angron and the canon!Emperor?)
In short, Robouen... is not like Angron. At all. When Robouen suffered and failed on Nuceria, he did not break or surrender to the Nails. When life was cruel to him, he chose to fight and build a better tomorrow—for himself, for those around him, for those after him.
This is best exemplified in all the medicine he and Ultramar have invented + produced to alleviate his painful symptoms. For example, there are pills he can take that will help clear his mind and sharpen his thoughts temporarily; some will allow him to sleep for a few short hours; another will dull his pain; etc.
Another example is that, over many years of research, Robouen and Ultramar have found and are exploiting a slight loophole in the Nails. Instead of always fighting physically when the Nails demand release (which will require Robouen and his Legion being constantly near battlefields or garden worlds he can safely hunt on), Robouen will sometimes use (essentially) advanced VR technology recovered from the Dark Age of Technology (the same strategio-simulacra from Lord of Shadows) to simulate and fight battles—which TECHNICALLY fulfills the Nails' desire for blood.
There is also, ofc, Robouen's stasis plan for the future, when the Nails inevitably steal too much from him to continue living! Which just goes to show how much hope he still has (though he has placed a one thousand years' time limit on the stasis plan; if a cure is not found within that time, it is best to just... pull the plug on him; no need to prolong his suffering unnecessarily or keep wasting Ultramar's resources; he's not naive)!
But anyways! Anyways! No more random world-building and lore! Moving on!
Robouen is sharing his past, details of his most recent life updates, and is just getting to know the canon!Primarchs, who he knows he'll soon be working alongside in the Crusade.
Eventually, he reaches Angron. Robouen initially has a neutral (even empathetic) opinion of him. Due to the Nails and all the ways they hinder him mentally, Robouen did/could not do any in-depth research on the canon!Primarchs before they arrived on Terra. He just knows the basics—aka, that some of them were found earlier/later than his brothers, that very few of them are actually close to his counterpart (Roboute Guilliman), etc.
Of Angron, Robouen only knows that, in this new universe, the XIIth and XIIIth Primarch switched planets. Robouen's counterpart landed on Macragge, becoming Roboute Guilliman (which Robouen's... so happy about; it's so good to know that in at least one universe, that young XIIIth Primarch got a happy childhood, instead of being chained in the Pits and forced to fight in the Arenas). The brother Robouen knows, Angronius Guilliman, is just Angron here because he landed on Nuceria and... was also branded with the Nails.
So Robouen is being very understanding and empathetic with Angron. They both come from Nuceria and have the Nails, after all. Robouen even offers to share all the medicine and methods he and Ultramar have invented to manage the Nails (once he learns that Angron did not go down the same stubborn path as him of continuing to research the Nails for solutions, even after the Emperor Himself failed to remove them).
All in all, their first meeting goes well (on Robouen's side, at least; on Angron's side, he... may/may not be jealous of Robouen, especially once he sees the LIVING AU!Oenamaus, who serves as Robouen's advisor on his flagship).
Then, one day, Robouen meets some World Eaters.
Who have Nails.
And he learns ANGRON gave his own sons an ultimatum of joining in his pain of the Nails (and well, we all know just how gene-engineered the Astartes are to obey their Primarchs' every command)! He WATCHED his Legion split into opposing factions and kill each other to, ultimately, accept the Nails! He spread the same pain and suffering he went through on Nuceria to them, his sons! He has become a High Rider, another slaver and oppressor!
Robouen is PISSED. His calm is GONE. (Which the Nails immediately seize and fan the flames of.)
He tracks down Angron.
And begins beating. Him. Up.
By the time the canon!Emperor and Malcador get brought the news—
Malcador and his liege are still discussing the new XIIIth, Robouen Lykaros, and his interactions with their Primarchs when a Custodian all-but-barges inside the office. Even before they turn to face her, an omen has grown in the air.
"M'lords." The Custodian salutes. Unlike usual, the placement of her hands is millimeters askew. "A conflict has arisen in the Palace."
They both straighten in their seats, out of their previously casual slumps and leans.
"Between?" the Emperor asks.
"The XIIth and the new XIIIth."
By the next second, they have both risen and crossed the office. Constantin Valdor and his subordinates immediately settle into position around them and follow them out the doors and into the hallway.
They are led by the Custodian who delivered the news.
"Do we know the reason for their conflict?" Malcador urgently asks her. He has long swung his staff over his shoulder to take quick, long strides to keep up with the Emperor.
"None," the Custodian answers. "My squadron and I—" Assigned in the wing of the Primarchs' quarters, if Malcador recalls correctly. "—only witnessed the XIIIth locating the XIIth and initiating combat with him. There was no prior warning."
Malcador and his liege share a look.
The XIIIth? Calm, silent Robouen Lykaros initiated this conflict? Not Angron, whose envy was palpable from the day he arrived on Terra and met Robouen?
"There must be a reason," Malcador remarks.
His liege nods curtly. "His sons and Custodes. We will question them."
In all the weeks the XIIIth has been here, they have never truly left his side; at most, there were shift changes. If anyone—aside from Robouen, who is likely in no mood to converse—knows the source of this conflict, it is them.
Soon, they enter the wing of the Primarchs' quarters.
Horus, eyes wide, nearly collides into them. "Father!"
Judging from the fact that he is facing them, he must have intended to leave the wing to find them and inform them of the fight, the sounds of which can be faintly heard from here.
The Emperor only asks, "Where are they?"
Horus' posture immediately loosens as he turns and gestures them after him. "The Aqualis Courtyard."
The boy is still using that nickname, Malcador can't resist thinking wryly.
In his youth, after being found and brought to Terra, Horus had explored the entirety of the Palace and given names to all the chambers and courtyards that did not already have one. The Aqualis Courtyard was named for its many streams, fountains, and statues carrying hydrias.
When they reach its adjoining halls and step outside—
Malcador grimaces.
—the damage is immense. Pillars and statues have been thrown about or crashed into, now laying shattered and broken across the courtyard. At the center of it all are the XIIth and XIIIth, kept only separated from each other by the wall of their fellow Primarchs.
Angron, eyes bloodshot with rage and bleeding from more than a dozen wounds, is in the process of being grabbed and restrained by Leman, Ferrus, and Vulkan. Some others must have tried before them but are now lodged into trees or laying on the ground in defeat. Horus leaves their side to assist his brothers.
Robouen... is surrounded by his gene-sons, all barely half his height and forming a loose circle around him, with their arms spread high and wide. Oddly enough, they appear to be having more success than the Primarchs, who are being swatted away and even bitten by Angron. Their gene-father, despite the blood oozing from his nostrils and snarling mouth—all signs of the Nails' persuasion—does not raise a hand against them, only continues to growl and pace inside the circle. Whenever he attempts to step past them, they only need to tighten their ranks and close any gaps. He, a Primarch easily capable of crushing them with a wrong step, is trapped.
Not far away, forming an even looser secondary circle, are the XIIIth's assigned Custodes. They... are not nearly as tense as the situation demands, standing straight instead of in any battle stances—as if this is the inside of the Palace and they are guarding their charge, as per usual, and nothing more.
One Custodian even glances over at them—Malcador, his liege, and their golden entourage—upon their arrival.
The Emperor signals him over.
The Custodian, though from another universe, only looks to his charge for a second, nods at what he finds, before complying and marching over.
"Your Majesty," the Custodian greets.
"What is the reason for the XIIIth's actions?" inquires the Emperor. "He has harmed My XIIth."
There is silence for a brief moment, as the Custodian organizes his thoughts. "My charge is moral and sentimental," he says first, as if to warn them, then adds, "Less than an hour ago, he discovered the XIIth's... treatment of his Legion."
Malcador closes his eyes.
The Nails. Again. This time, the ones implanted in the skulls of the World Eaters, against the Emperor’s outlaw of the wretched devices years ago, at the bidding of their own gene-father, the XIIth.
And of course, the XIIIth—who often hugs his gene-sons and even hands his Custodes desserts, however stiffly and stoically—disapproved. Raged, which the Nails must have only amplified.
Which led... to this.
"... Is your charge under control?" Malcador hears his liege eventually speak.
He opens his eyes and watches the Custodian nod.
"Yes. He only intends to kill the XIIth," the Custodian says composedly.
Malcador raises a brow at the wording. "He has conditioned himself?"
Again, the Custodian nods. "Over the years. He will only harm his appointed target. His gene-sons will keep him contained until the Nail's sway abates and he calms."
Which seems to be soon.
Robouen still paces between his sons but is no longer snarling like a provoked animal. His pupils have also narrowed, and the flow of the blood from his nose and mouth has slowed. When his lips next pull back, it is to speak at Angron, who has finally been grabbed and pinned to the ground by his brothers.
"You have not left the Pits, nor the Arenas. Only now, you sit in the theatron."
The XIIth shouts back: "Shut up! How dare you—you—judge me?! The High Riders—"
"You have become them," Robouen cuts him off, snarling once more. He tries to stalk forward, toward Angron, only for his sons to block his path again. "You watch your sons suffer for your entertainment and attention! You branded—mutilated—them with the Nails, just as the High Riders did you! Did us!"
For a single moment, the XIIth freezes beneath his brothers, something warring in his eyes—then shakes his head and begins wrestling against their grips and growling at the XIIIth. But Robouen gives him no chance to retort.
"You're still a slave, Angron," Robouen spits. "Enslaved to your past, blind to the future. Too hateful to learn. Too spiteful to prosper."
(Yes, I took some of the dialogue from Betrayer. In some ways, the XIIIth remains the same, regardless of universe.)
Anyways, that's all the interesting bits for this idea! This answer is getting way too long! Hope you enjoyed, tarantasina (and anyone else who reads this, ofc)! 😊😊😊
Little thought I had based on your last chapter note, how many primarchs are there currently around?
Im asking this cause this visual of coming back from the dead/warp/wherever and quickly being tackled into a room and told that A. The blueberry is now married to your dad, B. Its a fake marriage to keep the impurium together, C. Its actually working, and D. You know have to play along and act like your brother is in fact that lovey dovey with your Father while keeping a straight face
[This is for "The Divine Marriage".]
Currently, in the Imperium, the only Loyalists present are Robu, Lion, Vulkan, and Leman (who all returned in that order).
The rest of the Loyalists are still tripping in the Warp (Corax and Jaghatai) or are dead (Sangy, Ferrus, maybe Dorn). The former two will eventually be introduced into the story and be immediately tackled into a closet by their bros to accept and play into Robu's marriage with Emps ("when the zealots ask, remember: you, Jaghatai, hunted exotic beasts and gave them to Vulkan to cook for Father and Roboute's wedding. And you, Corax, you helped with security"). The latter group will stay dead, unless/until I choose to ass-pull or cook up some really good psychic bullshit to explain away their revivals.
It seems that some people in the know are starting to forget that the marriage isnt real, such as the custodes. So I have to ask, How many times do they catch themselves forgetting its fake?
Also I have to ask, when the brothers were deciding who to tell Big G about the whole "people think your marriage isnt working out" thing, bow long did they go back on forth on who has to tell him? Cause lions brothers sure through him under the bus with the whole eldest thing.
Hopefully things will get better soon, just take care of yourself for now, love your writing as always!!
Oh, the Custodes forget A LOT!
That's actually one of the biggest reasons why they keep scheduling Blood Games and whatnot (just being very judgmental step-kids to Roboute).
Y'know how courting is so important to nobles (and the Custodes, even the ones created after the Heresy, are all OLD) and how a husband often has to "prove himself" before being able to even catch a glimpse of his bride/groom? Yeah, all those marriage traditions and shit get translated by the Custodes and their fucked-up instincts into blocking Roboute's way every time he wants to meet the Emperor (the only exceptions are when it's a legitimate emergency; otherwise, they become stone walls).
This is because there was never an actual courtship or wedding between Robu and Emps! So Custodes.exe is struggling to compute!
Every time Robu sets off on campaigns and brings back victory and the head(s) of the Imperium's foe(s) as "gifts for my Beloved" or builds hospitals + universities in the Emperor’s name ("for He has always adored humanity and does not wish to see it suffer") or finds seed vaults/DNA strands of ancient Terran plants and plants/clones them in(to) the Imperial Gardens or—
On one hand, the Custodes are EXTREMELY pleased. Because "YES! A good Consort ought to deliver grand gifts to His Majesty! That is His due!"
But at the same time...
"Wait... this isn't a real marriage! Lord Guilliman is only doing these actions because they improve the Imperium! It is good to defeat xenos foes; it is good to reinvigorate the Imperium with better infrastructure and systems; it is good to collect Mankind's lost history and keep it sealed in the most well-defended structure of the entire Imperium!"
"THAT is why he does this! Not because he actually loves our Master!"
(Which occasionally rubs the Custodes the wrong way because their Master deserves to have an efficient AND loving Consort—until they remember, again, that this marriage was never meant to be real...)
Needless to say, the Custodes have gotten REALLY invested. One of these days, one of them might just give up and say "fuck it! If it looks like a loving marriage and functions like a loving marriage, it IS a loving marriage!"
But they're not the only ones!
Sometimes (usually in public), Roboute himself will method act so hard that he ALSO forgets that his marriage is fake! He'll catch himself looking at shit (thru the windows of bookstores, at the products atop a market stall, etc. as he and his sons pass through yet another world they must protect) and thinking: "Oh, hey, my Beloved might like that! I should buy it for Him!"
(Because, y'know, Robu has access to practically the entire Imperial Palace, including the Emperor’s old office, personal chambers, workshops, etc. And after first confirming their marriage all those years ago, Robu thought it prudent to go through them all, find any old plans He had, and learn His interests all at once because "the best lies are plausible ones"!)
As for your second question, the bros (Lion, Leman, and Vulkan) actually debated for YEARS!
First, because it took a while for the whispers (of Robu being too good for Emps) to grow loud enough for them all three to notice and realize "oh shit, this might be a problem, not just a funny joke to mention to Roboute one day". And second, because they're just that busy protecting the Imperium and not always in the same place often enough to hash things out (and this is a BIG thing to hash out, so multiple meetings were necessary).
It all ended with Leman and Vulkan teaming up (instead of pointing to each other, as they were previously) to elect Lion with the "fair" reasoning that he's the eldest and, also, returned to the Imperium right after Robu (so he's spent the most time with Robu).
And thanks for the concern and well wishes, anon! I'm working hard to push thru the current slump in my life and continue enjoying my hobby of writing! 😊😊😊
tldr; Three hundred years into the Indomitus Crusade, the collective Imperium has decided that their beloved God-Emperor and Uncrowned Monarch (Roboute Guilliman) must be married!
Masterpost
Ao3 link here.
Prev. Ch.
____
Roboute has outdone himself.
This thought crosses Lion's mind not for the first time since his arrival on Terra.
Truly, his brother has outdone himself.
From this balcony, Lion can see all that Terra has become in this past, short century. There are no more crowded, rusted hive-spires on the horizon, only sleek cities he knows Roboute personally designed; the many garden tops and parks speak to it. Beyond them are great forests and mountains, presumably all reconstructed from old maps of Terra Roboute discovered… somewhere in the Imperial Palace.
And when Lion inhales, the air is clean. The millennia of pollution that once stained the days of Terra orange have vanished, replaced by blue skies and white clouds.
Lion can almost forget the reason for it. The reason for all the Imperium's recent changes.
Almost.
Then he frowns. Even from afar, he can see the swaying banners, colorful flowers, and towering statues which decorate every district of the city.
Today is the first centennial anniversary between his mad brother, Roboute, and their creator, the Emperor—or, as the deluded citizens believe, the first public anniversary of their gods.
Yes, his brother has outdone himself. His lies and schemes have captivated quadrillions across the Imperium, in spite of the Great Rift which bisects it.
And the Emperor has allowed it. He approves.
A part of Lion even suspects: He deliberately manufactured this lie Himself, all to ensure His Regent's loyalty. Three centuries, now four, is too long a time for Him to be truly innocent.
Now, He has gained what He wished: Roboute, His Regent-Consort, shall never leave His side. Lion's brother—his first brother of this era—is now bound to Him, His Throne, and His machinations for eternity.
Lion—
“Lion!”
Lion breathes slowly through his nostrils. Then he turns to face the voice, though he already smelled Vulkan's acrid, ashen scent seconds before he heard him.
“Roboute has finished his paperwork for the day,” Vulkan informs.
More likely, knowing his brothers, Vulkan strong-armed Roboute into setting a limit and Leman assisted him.
“You may give him... the news now.” Vulkan grimaces, then gestures inside, to Roboute’s office.
Of them all, only Roboute remains oblivious to the Imperium's lastest absurdities. And Lion—as the eldest, as Leman so insisted, and the closest to Roboute, according to Vulkan—must be the one to inform him.
Lion nods, then follows Vulkan inside.
“Brothers!” Leman greets them from a lounge chair, raising his cup of Mjōd. His grin is tight at the corners as the three of them exchange long looks.
Then Lion's gaze and feet sweep past Leman and toward Roboute.
As per usual, he sits behind his desk, which is crowded with stacks of petitions and data-slates, all neatly organized according to a standard Lion only recognizes because he forced them, his brothers, to learn it. However, he does not touch a single one, even as his clasped hands twitch atop his desk; Vulkan's stern stare and Leman's raised brows ensure that.
“Roboute,” Lion says. He spares only a momentary glance at the Victrix Guards and Custodes which hover around his brother; none will appreciate what he must share soon.
The Regent… Consort sighs. “Lion,” he acknowledges, his voice tight. The months leading up to today must have been busy for him. Unsurprising. “Did you enjoy the view from the balcony?”
Pleasantries…
His brother should know better than to exchange them with him. But mayhaps he is simply… proud of his accomplishment—for it is one—with Terra, something not even the Emperor had achieved before... Before.
“… Yes,” Lion replies, then pauses and admits, “You have… done well. The Emperor would be pleased.”
“That is the plan.” Roboute massages his temple, but his shoulders have loosened. “My lies must survive scrutiny, and He once intended to… improve Terra following the Great Crusade. Preliminary plans were in His office—”
A room only Roboute has both the access and courage to enter, after its… abrupt abandonment.
“—which I merged with my own,” his brother finishes.
“Very romantic,” Leman murmurs beneath his breath. But as Primarchs, they all hear his words as clear as day.
Roboute's brow twitches, but he offers no denial. For that is just another method of maintaining his false marriage to the Emperor.
Then Vulkan sighs and nudges Lion in the shoulder.
Lion steps forward and sits down in one of the two chairs opposite of Roboute's desk. Vulkan claims the other; he at least has some manners and guilt for foisting this… duty upon Lion. Leman, meanwhile, seems content to sip at his Mjōd loudly and watch from afar.
Their expressions make Roboute raise a brow and immediately ask, “What disaster has occurred?”
A difficult question, but one Lion must answer.
He briefly considers closing his eyes to steady himself, but clears his throat instead.
“Roboute,” he starts, only for any further words to flee him. His mind is silent, and neither Vulkan nor Leman dare speak up in his place.
But, as always, Roboute is patient—albeit wary of his rare hesitation. “Yes, Lion?”
Lion clenches his jaw for a second, then opts for bluntness. Otherwise, Vulkan should have offered to speak to their brother.
“There is growing criticism of your… marriage.”
Roboute tenses in his seat. The bags beneath his eyes seem to darken a shade.
“The Ecclesiarchy?” he asks.
“Yes,” Lion confirms. “Some conservative sects disagree with your rise in status.”
“‘For the God-Emperor knows no equal,’” Roboute finishes, one hand raising to pinch the bridge of his nose. Then he murmurs, “Of course that is their complaint. He has been their sole… god for millennia.”
He glances over at one of his Victrix Guards. Lion recognizes the Astartes: Adamantios Isaak, his brother's current equerry, promoted only a couple centuries ago to replace Decimus Androdinus Felix. His equerry duties and Lion's own as Lord Commander of Nihilus have led to them interacting many times before.
“Isaak.”
The Astartes snaps to attention beneath his gene-sire's gaze.
“Begin drafting plans to correct these sects,” Roboute commands with customary ease. “Any tactic, bar violence, may be used. Have the plans on my desk soon; a fortnight at the latest.”
“Yes, M'Lord.” Isaak salutes and retrieves a data-slate from his belt to begin his drafting.
Lion blinks.
There is a cough beside him, as Vulkan clears his throat and shifts in his seat. “You are not… upset, Brother?”
Their brother's eyes shift back to them. “I am,” he admits, though his expression does not shift in the slightest. “Such whispers may lead to another religious schism or war within the Imperium.”
Finally, Roboute's jaw visibly tightens, and his eyes move to settle upon a far wall—no, past it, in the direction of the Sanctum Imperialis.
“Something our marriage was meant to prevent.”
Then he shakes his head, and his features settle back into calm.
“But their criticisms are… sensible,” Roboute confesses, “given their knowledge and traditions. And they believe our marriage is unequal—not that it is false.”
Which is proof of its success. Beyond improving the Imperium, all of Roboute’s actions this past century—the grand gifts, the public speeches, and even his new, more golden wardrobe—have been to cement his marriage to the Emperor. Turn fabrication into reality.
Clever as always, his brother.
But—
“There is more,” Lion says.
A brow raises on Roboute's face, the first sign of true surprise, not wariness or curiosity, since their conversation began.
“What is it?”
Lion purses his lips. He does not wish to speak, though he know he must.
Vulkan reaches a hand over to squeeze his forearm in solidarity. Behind them, Leman has ceased his drinking and sends encouraging looks that bore into Lion's back.
“It is bad then,” Roboute concludes softly. A sigh escapes him, and he asks again, “What is it, Brothers?”
“… The Servi Indomitus,” Lion forces out. “Minor factions within it nurse complaints of their own.”
That gives Roboute pause. The Custodes and Victrix Guards in the chamber also still. His equerry, Isaak, even stops his writing for a brief second.
“Of my marriage, as well?”
Lion nods.
The hand on his forearm tightens. Through the contact, Lion can feel Vulkan's quickening pulse.
Their brother frowns. “Explain.”
He cannot conceive of any criticism the Servi Indomitus have, Lion knows. After all, the title of Imperial Consort is one to be envied. What flaw exists for Roboute's cult to point at and disapprove of?
But those mad zealots have found one.
“The Emperor.” The words leave Lion's mouth so low that they are almost a growl. “They believe He is incompatible with you.”
Roboute stares. A thousand thoughts gleam in his eyes, before he blurts out:
“… What?”
Lion can only grit his teeth. Vulkan is little better, choosing to avoid their brother's gaze by staring up at the ceiling.
Before Roboute can speak again and demand answers, Leman at last chooses to be useful.
“Your followers believe He is unworthy of you!” Leman snorts, then huffs out a laugh. “That He is ‘too cruel' for your Hope and Mercy! That He ain't treating you right!”
Now, Roboute is looking at Leman. “… Pardon?” His mouth opens and closes repeatedly, while his hands twist and wring together. As the seconds pass, Lion can see something—anger, incredulity, or both—grow in his eyes. “They… object to the groom they chose for me?”
“Absurd, ain't it?” A thud echoes as Leman sets down his Mjōd. “They first say you and He complement each other! Now, they say the opposite! Their sagas ain't straight!”
But their brother does not appear to be listening. His eyes have glazed over and dropped to the grain of his hardwood desk.
“They object to the groom they chose,” Roboute repeats. With only a handful of feet between them, Lion can hear his teeth grinding against each other. “They chose Him, not I. They. Chose. Him.”
A chair creaks, as Vulkan carefully edges away.
Lion breathes, then intervenes. “It is worse.”
Roboute's head snaps up, so quickly that a deep, ancient part of Lion's mind roars for him to ready for battle.
“What?”
“They have suggested… alternative spouses,” Lion grunts.
“No.” Roboute bolts up from his seat and slams his hands onto his desk. He is no fool and has already connected the dots; the list of ‘divine beings’ the Imperium worships is too short for otherwise. “No, no, no! They cannot be suggesting—!”
He cuts himself off and gestures sharply at Lion, Vulkan, then Leman.
Lion looks away.
“… They do,” Vulkan murmurs. One of his hands moves to fist Lion's sleeve for support; only propriety halts Lion from shaking him off. “All of us. I… am the most popular option. For my… compassion and warmth.”
His voice quakes with embarrassment. He, too, must be avoiding Roboute's gaze now; Lion knows that for certain.
“They say,” Vulkan sucks in a breath, “they say I would… be kinder to you. A better husband… than Father.”
For a long moment, Roboute is silent; only the trembling of his hands atop his desk can be heard. Then, he hisses, “How? With what evidence do those zealots know my marriage is unhappy? That He is unkind to me?”
Lion does not answer. Neither do Vulkan or Leman.
“They have never walked these halls!” Once more, Roboute's hands slam onto his desk, his nails scraping audibly against the surface. There must be grooves now, Lion guesses. “They have witnessed no interactions between us! They know nothing of us at all!”
His voice breaks.
Lion looks back, just in time to watch Roboute drop down into his seat and bury his face in his hands. Before his fingers cover them, his eyes have reddened.
“I have given everything to them.” Roboute's voice is muffled and quiet. “My every action serves them. I married Him: the Emperor, our creator, the man who—”
He growls and presses his face deeper into his palms.
For he dislikes the Emperor.
As the second to return, just after Roboute, Lion noticed his brother's changed feelings with ease; Vulkan and Leman learned, as well, later.
Where, during the Great Crusade, Roboute would proclaim Him “Father” and obey His every command without complaint, as they all did, he now returns from his frequent visits to the Sanctum Imperialis with a frown. A slight one, always, only noticeable by a fellow Primarch; Lion's brother is no imbecile as to risk whispers of unease and dispute between the Emperor and His Regent.
This has been the case for centuries. It was yesterday, too, when Lion first arrived on Terra and intended to bring the news of this… religious dissent to Roboute, only to discover his brother was already preoccupied with a meeting with the Emperor. When he at last left the Sanctum and met with Lion, his expression was drained and morose. So Lion delayed his report till today.
“But not even that satisfies them. Always, somehow, there is a flaw. In my plans, in my judgment, in me.”
A concerned noise leaves Leman, something between a wolf’s whine and huff.
Lion's hand clenches the arm of his chair.
Simultaneously, Vulkan scoots close to Roboute's desk once more and raises a gentle hand—only to freeze mid-motion.
What can any of them say or do to comfort their brother, whose burdens are so immense that only the Emperor bore them previously?
Nothing.
So they all remain silent. As do the Custodes and Victrix Guards; the equerry, Isaak, has long ceased his drafting.
The quiet is only broken when Roboute speaks again, his voice marginally calmer.
“Why?”
His hands fall to reveal his face, where his eyes have dried and narrowed.
“Give me their reasoning,” Roboute commands with a determined glare, “so I may strike them down.”
Lion does not move his head, but his eyes drift to catch Vulkan's gaze. He, in turn, looks to Leman, who sighs and takes a long swig of his Mjōd.
“Your followers reckon that ‘love has blinded you’,” Leman starts, raising the pitch of his voice to mimic whatever priests he's heard proclaiming so. “As they know it, you and the All-Father wed during the Great Crusade, only for you to be slain by the cruel devils and be kept apart from Him for over ten millennia, until your revival.”
“And what is their conclusion?” Roboute interrupts, his hands steepling together tightly.
“… That you both have changed,” Leman answers hesitantly. “That there ain't no compatibility left between you. That you are clinging to the shreds of your marriage and what little affection remains… because you are Hope.”
Lion watches Roboute's reaction keenly. Watches his eyes widen and lips part into a breathy, almost mad, laugh.
“We are gods!” Roboute shouts, then grimaces and corrects, “According to them, we are gods! What is ten thousand years of separation to us?! The passage of time could never affect our marriage!”
Leman raises his hands—so high that Lion can glimpse them in his peripheral vision—to placate him. “I warned you: their sagas ain't straight.”
In response, their brother closes his eyes and breathes deeply. Always striving to be calm. It is a familiar sight amidst the current chaos.
“What else?” Roboute inquires again. “There must be more.”
And there is. But Leman refuses to speak any longer and Lion was the one to broach this topic initially.
So Vulkan, after some slight shuffling in his seat, replies, “They also believe you… give Him too much. And He does not reciprocate, only receives and demands more.”
“Terra,” Roboute quickly says, eyes narrowing in calculation. “My restoration of it. That is evidence to them?”
“Yes.” Vulkan nods, however stiltedly. “Along with… everything else you've done in His name.”
His every action is kindling for those zealots’ righteous fury. Even in Nihilus, Lion heard their growing complaints—in sermons, in sorrowful hymns, in the changed imagery of their temples. Of how their beloved Uncrowned Monarch toils so greatly for the Emperor, who refuses to reward him with so much as a kiss.
“And they are upset that He does not step off His Throne to…” Roboute shakes his head in sheer disbelief. “… walk through the Gardens with me? Or attend councils at my side? Or hand me gifts of His own creation?”
They—Lion, Vulkan, and Leman—all wince to varying degrees.
Too narrow. Their brother's imagination is too narrow. Only they know: in the worst whispers, his believers insist the Emperor ought to bear His devoted Consort… a child. The priests claimed—and likely still do—that an heir is only natural, for all the Uncrowned Monarch’s love and loyalty to the Emperor these past millennia.
“… Yes.” Vulkan’s voice has softened. “You are their god; they wish the best for you.”
Roboute scoffs at the notion.
“But your marriage is… unequal,” Vulkan finishes weakly. “The Emperor does not cherish you.”
In unison, all the Custodes in the chamber stiffen and bristle. Lion can smell their offense, which pours from every crevice of their armor. One, Tribune Colquan, sucks in an audible breath before retorting.
“He is no inadequate spouse.”
Slowly, Roboute turns to face the Tribune. His face is pinched, but not with surprise.
Lion also looks at Colquan. In sharp contrast, Vulkan covers his face with a hand.
“He is perfection,” Colquan continues sharply. “If one lacks in this union, it is not Him.”
It is Roboute Guilliman, his curled fists and stalwart posture imply.
Roboute exhales sharply, then calls out, “Tribune.”
He is ignored.
None of the Custodians in the chamber move to assist the Regent in stopping their compatriot's tirade. They, too, must share the same opinions.
“For Mankind's sake, He deigned to wed a man far below His status,” Colquan adds. “A man who overstepped.”
Roboute's brow twitches harder.
Lion crosses his arms and smothers the urge to groan. Behind him, Leman does. Loudly. All the while, Vulkan's head dips down and leans over to rest on his shoulder.
This... is an absurd argument. For the Custodians, gene-forged guardians of the Throne—though Lion knows Roboute and Vulkan believe those same genes are the cause for all their odd behavior since Roboute wed the Emperor. They, Primarchs designed in His lab, should not be here either.
“Tribune,” Roboute tries again.
Another failure.
“To lay eyes upon Him is a fortune of highest magnitude. To be His Consort is infinitely more so. He—”
“Tribune!”
At last, Colquan quiets. Not only him; the other Custodes also straighten in their places against the walls and doors, as well as the Victrix Guards.
Even Lion must smother the urge to stand at attention and wait to hear another of Roboute's clever schemes and orders. Leman and Vulkan are little better, both now staring at their brother.
“Your Master and mine's marriage is not romantic,” Roboute reminds. “Your defense of it need not be so... ardent.”
The Tribune freezes instantly, as if remembering: indeed, Roboute did not choose to wed their Master. Not truly. Yet, here, for the past few minutes, Colquan has been arguing for His Master, as if He is a maiden dishonored and disdained by disapproving in-laws.
The chamber is quiet.
“… Father?” The hesitant voice of Isaak pierces the silence.
Roboute tilts his head over.
His equerry holds up the data-slate in his hands. Dutiful, as all of Roboute’s sons so often are. “Would—would you like me to draft an address? To answer the… grievances of the Servi Indomitus?”
“Yes…” Roboute's shoulders fall just a centimeter. “Please, Isaak. They cannot,” he swallows, “will not undo everything I have built this past century. My reforms. My plans. My—my marriage.”
With deft hands, Isaak complies. The tapping of a finger on a data-slate has never felt so loud before today.
In the Truth serum Guilliman au, I bet people learned very quickly not to ask G-man about his mother or face a 3-hour long lecture about how much he loves her and how great she is.
[This is related to this post, this post, and this post.]
Oh, yes!!!
And since Robu has no filter rn, he even CALLS Tarasha his "mother" or "mam". No more keeping that title all in his head and private. That's just his mom!
He is very mortified as he rambles all about how wonderful and intelligent she is, what reforms she's advised him on, how his gene-sons thankfully respect her a ton, or how she does [this], [this], and [this].
He even mentions parts of his childhood and how she raised him!
"My current confinement in the Imperial Palace reminds of the time when I was a child—four years old, if memory serves me well—and had not yet learned the importance of watching my words. Once, I made the mistake of insulting a powerful noble to his face, and afterward, my mother arranged for me a grueling curriculum on diplomacy and politics."
This eventually snowballs into Robu thinking about and promptly chatting about his dad, Konor Guilliman!
"Once I completed all those lessons according to my mother's standards, I no longer was so vocal with my distaste for the other nobles of Macragge. However, I remained both temperamental and judgmental of them; their stubborn inefficiency and cruelty to the citizens of Macragge grated heavily on my nerves."
"My father—Konor, that is—noticed and took to taking me on hunts and hikes. Those simple days with him in the mountains remain my fondest memories of childhood."
"... I miss him dearly."
(And does Robu, at some point in this same conversation, kinda compare Konor to the Emperor? ... Maybe.)
Do you have a plan to continue "Hope's End" in the future. I really want to see the AU where Guilliman can live the farmer life he wants but then find out that without him what will the blueberries become.
[Related to this fic.]
Not currently. I already have two fics to work on and finish, so I don't want to add more to my plate just yet.
But maybe in the future! If I get the right inspo!
Maybe then, I could write traumatized-from-dying-and-now-a-farmer Roboute getting unwittingly dragged into the Imperium and all its politics and wars all over again, in this new life/past, against his will. Maybe he keeps running into some... not-Blueberries and just... can't resist helping them (bc Robu moves around a lot to avoid being found by Emps)?
Eventually, he's back to where he started: a general of the Great Crusade once more, doomed to be killed by the very Mankind he protects. Because his intentions and loyalties are always being doubted and feared (especially now, in this new life, where he very vocally does not wish to be a part of the Great Crusade)—when, really, he just wants to return to his farm...
Can't stop rereading your truth curse Roboute post, it is *cheff kiss* DELICIOUS. Could you share more on it? Does Roboute gets returned emotional affirmations from his kinder brothers? Reactions to The Room? More on how Malc&Emp react to everything? Or anything else you thought about, it's delicious, thank you for the food 💜
@missmannequin
[This is related to this post and this post.]
Alright!
I think I'll go down the list of Primarchs (w/Emps and Malcy at the end) to show all of Robu's embarrassing interactions with them!
Just to set the scene, as the Primarchs spend their short leave on Terra (before they inevitably have to return to the Great Crusade), many of them have taken to asking Robu what he thinks of them. Mostly out of genuine curiosity, though some do it more out of... malice.
Ultimately, all these conversations lead to many Primarchs avoiding Roboute! Out of shame, second-hand embarrassment, or anger!
I already did Lion, Fulgrim, and Perty previously (also, did I fr do them in order? I did NOT realize that when I made that post), plus I did Angron and kinda Ferrus, so they won't be included here.
Also, this is going to be a mix of summaries and dialogue (bc if I wrote dialogue for every interaction, this post would take way too long).
So I'll start with...
Jaghatai:
-> For the most part, Roboute speaks of admiring the Khan's calm intelligence (fellow sane man of the family, y'know) and also of... how much he worries about how distant he (Khan) is from the rest of the family.
-> "You do not enjoy partaking in politics or governance; the... 'hunt' is your greatest desire. Likewise, you are not fond of Father and His decisions. That has always been easy to see."
-> "I do not begrudge you your opinions, Brother; they are your right. But sometimes..."
-> "Sometimes, I wish you would never speak them. For when I hear them, I often find myself agreeing, at least in part, yet... no suggestions or petitions or tangible action ever follow them. You always leave—away from us, from the politics of the Imperium, from everything but the 'hunt'. Your intelligence and wisdom go wasted, never voiced. That disappoints me."
-> "I know not everything done in the Imperium’s name is enjoyable or kind, but... is our dream not righteous? The Great Crusade exists to shepherd Mankind toward a brighter future, away from ignorance and suffering. That is why Father conceived of it; why He conceived us; why we and our Legions march across the galaxy."
-> "Father and Lord Malcador have many plans to improve and uplift Mankind once the Crusade ends. I'm sure you have heard of them before, from Father Himself when He first found you. I believe... I believe if you engaged with them, Father and Lord Malcador both, your advice would improve those plans. If only you would..."
-> ... Jaghatai says he'll think about it.
Leman:
-> "I have never said this before (and do not wish to now, but the curse does not care for my will), but I enjoy it: the rare times when you invite me to drink Mjod with you. It is... relaxing, and your company is... most humorous and welcome."
-> "I greatly hope that one day, you and Magnus will share an honest conversation and overcome your gripes with each other. It may be naive of me and I know it will be difficult, but... diplomacy is always an option. I believe with the right honestly and compromise, the two of you may come to tolerate each other. To have my brothers so at odds is... a sight I do not wish to know for the rest of eternity."
Dorn:
-> "I greatly admire your unshakable nature, just as much as I worry of it. I fear..."
-> "I fear one day, you will encounter an insurmountable trial—be it military, political, or social—and you will not bend but break. Then, you will struggle to build yourself anew, for your mind is so rigid, and any assistance I offer... may not be enough."
Konrad:
-> Like with Angron, Roboute has much pity for Konrad, who has been driven mad by his visions. But also...
-> "There have been days when I have considered teaching you administration or wished to recommend you relevant modules for it. Some part of me suspects you might have talent for it, or that, at the very least, it should work well with your... strong sense of justice (however strange it is). You could construct fair, legal justice systems and strong economies for the crime-riddled worlds you encounter, including that of your home-world Nostramo, and improve them. Cut down crime. That has always been your desire, yes? I wish to believe your madness has not entirely stripped that from you... and I wish you might know more hope in your life..."
Sanguinius:
-> By the time Sanguinius' "turn" comes, he's watched/heard of many of the conversations between Roboute and their brothers, and he also now knows of The Room. Needless to say, Sanguinius gives Roboute a warm, feathery hug and expresses back his own love + respect. Good shit, good shit.
-> However! Roboute does mentions his mild concern about Sanguinius' belief of never changing Baal... because that implies the lives of Baal's citizens will never improve. And if Sanguinius wants the best for them, he should agree to Baal eventually being uplifted into something kinder and more prosperous; if he wished, a continent or two could even be kept as is to remember Baal's past (compromise!).
-> And if Sanguinius is only keeping Baal like this to ensure the recruits for his Legion are sturdy and courageous, well... Roboute's own Legionnaires are recruited from the 500 Worlds (which are all prosperous and, as many of his brothers would say, "too soft") and remain more-than-capable warriors! So that cannot be Sanguinius' reason! It is illogical to keep a planet miserable when a stable home is effective motivation for any troops and proper training can close what gap remains!
Mortarion:
-> As I mentioned briefly in a prev. post, Mortarion, similar to Angron, got a somewhat stern talking to from Roboute. Basically, when Mortarion (like so many other brothers) asked Roboute what he thought of him (not as cruelly as Angron did) out of pure curiosity, Roboute gave him an answer... he did not expect.
-> Roboute first mentioned Mortarion’s unfavorable opinion toward everything psychic. Roboute himself understands being cautious of the psychic arts; the Emperor Himself knows that the Ultramarine Librarius have strict manuals and rules to follow to ensure they do not become threats to Mankind. However, what Roboute does not approve of is Mortarion’s immediate hate toward everything psychic, including toward their brother—their brother, one of now-only-18 Primarchs in the entire Milky Way—Magnus.
-> But, indeed, Roboute knows that Mortarion suffered deeply at the hands of a xenos psyker during his childhood, hence his harsh opinions. That is why Roboute, ultimately, never spoke these things aloud before today; to move on from his trauma is Mortarion’s choice, which Roboute can't really interfere with.
-> Then, Roboute went on to mention Mortarion’s fraught relationship with the Emperor. On one hand, he understands why Mortarion remains so upset and disdainful of the Emperor, who was not particularly kind when bringing him into the fold (aka, some kill-stealing happened).
-> But on the other hand, Roboute's like: "What else could He have done—that would have been acceptable for both you and the Imperium?"
-> At the end of the day, the Emperor is the Emperor—in that He has thousands of duties to fulfill, thousands of wars to manage at once (even with His Primarchs), and a million worlds to protect! To stay on Barbarus even one day longer to be more kind and patient with Mortarion would have cost BILLIONS (of lives, of credits, etc.), for that is the scale of the Imperium the Emperor rules!
-> It's simple math and logistics. A minute's delay in a regular factory could lead to thousands, if not millions, of credits being lost down the line. Thus, an entire empire (of a MILLION worlds) having its Emperor delayed by another day (on top of the time He already spent on Barbarus, trying to convince Mortarion to join willingly) would be FAR more catastrophic!
-> The conversation then ended with Roboute (mortified and grimacing) offering to mediate a meeting between Mortarion and the Emperor. Roboute would even arrange it himself if Mortarion did not wish to reach out to the Emperor personally! Anything to soothe his father and brother’s relationship! Roboute would really prefer it if their family all got along (that doesn't mean they all have to like each other)!
Magnus:
-> Robu first speaks of all his good: his intelligence, his strength in psychic matters, and his love for his sons. Then—
-> "You often chafe against the criticism you receive on your psychic abilities and experiments, including those from our brothers Leman and Mortarion, yet you do nothing to alleviate their fears, nor do you seek to understand them. You only refuse and retort. I find that... childish."
-> "Father Himself has given you many lessons on the dangers of the Warp before, and many of our brothers envy you for having His attention, yet not even His words have tempered you. You are so... arrogant. Combined with your insatiable curiosity, I fear the path it might one day take you down."
Horus:
-> His reaction to Roboute and his words depends on whether or not he (Horus) is Warmaster yet. Because we all know he's angsty and insecure beneath his oozing charm and charisma... which Roboute unknowingly feeds into (bc he was found 8th yet is rapidly closing in on Horus' achievements...).
-> If Horus ISN'T yet Warmaster: he'll be glad to hear that Roboute greatly admires him and enjoys his presence, considering him one of his few friends amongst all the Primarchs.
-> If Horus IS Warmaster: he'll be EXTRA glad to know that Roboute is happy for him being Warmaster and not jealous in the slightest—partially because Roboute does not want such a heavy title + responsibilities for himself and thinks he would even be bad at it ("many of our brothers dislike me; I would not be able to command them nearly as well as you do").
Lorgar:
-> Robu’s interaction with Lorgar depends on whether or not this is before the Razing of Monarchia.
-> If AFTER: Lorgar prob meanly asks if Robu hates him. Naturally, Robu says no and will then mention how uncomfortable he felt fulfilling the Emperor’s commands that day. He hopes, at least, that Lorgar has finally taken the Emperor's words to heart and ceased worshipping Him to instead focus on the Crusade ("it is bigger than us all; it is for Mankind"). As in canon, this revelation (of Roboute never hating him) has Lorgar reeling and utterly gobsmacked, perhaps even feeling guilty for the shit he's begun planning for the future...
-> If BEFORE: "I occasionally find your religious beliefs... offensive. They imply that Mankind cannot save itself, that our actions in the Crusade are meaningless, that we are so weak as to require a god to save us. I suspect that is why Father disapproves of your worship of Him, too; He has given you many warnings over the years. I wish... I wish you would heed them. Then embrace your own strength and the Imperial Truth. Know that neither you nor Mankind need a god to follow and prostrate yourself before."
Vulkan:
-> "You are so kind and approachable. Perhaps, if I were more like you, there would be less whispers of me seeking to build an empire in Ultramar or wishing to usurp the Emperor for the Throne." (Does this make some of the Primarchs, especially those that contributed to those whispers, flinch? Yes.)
-> "I also have a suggestion that might expand the scope of your kindness and generosity. Against my will, I must speak it and hope you do not find it... presumptuous of me."
-> "I believe you should learn some amount of governance, or administration. Then, you may improve the lives you come across on a foundational level, not just tend to their wounds."
Corax:
-> Roboute mentions that time they played (essentially) VR strategy games together. Y'know which one I'm talking about, from Lord of Shadows.
-> "Thank you for accepting my invitation all those years ago. Many of our brothers did not. Even now, it... warms my heart that you did. I learned many things from you that day, and my campaigns and strategies have greatly improved ever since."
-> Roboute also expresses much respect for Corax's understanding of needing to make tough decisions for the wider majority ("I suspect many of our brothers do not"). He kinda considers them kindred spirits in that regard, especially since they've both done some ruling and administration before (since Corax, y'know, reformed the systems of his home... moon?).
-> And yes, at some point in the convo, Roboute ends up calling Corax his "little brother" and is... extremely moritifed. Corax is both touched and embarrassed on his behalf.
Alph(arius/Om)egon:
-> To Alphegon's shock, Roboute admits to admiring some of their tactics. The rest are... often too cruel and convoluted to his personal taste ("we are fighting to uplift and protect Mankind, not destroy it").
-> Still, regardless of any gripes between them, Roboute does consider them his brothers and loves + respects them. That is why the most he has ever done before is critique them, not forced them to change their tactics.
-> Roboute also admits to finding some of Alphegon's antics hilarious, such as when they disguise themselves amongst their sons and play pranks on the Emperor/Malcador/Custodes/other Primarchs.
Emperor & Malcador:
-> Best believe they've assigned a Custodes squadron to stick to Guilliman (partially to keep him isolated and away from ppl he shouldn't be yapping to) and send them reports/transcripts of all his conversations with the other Primarchs.
-> They are now... reassessing a lot of things they previously thought of the XIIIth. He's... very loyal and sentimental. He also... understands a shocking amount of their pragmatic decisions (such as the Emperor's decision to steal Mortarion's kill, why He cannot dedicate centuries to trying to solve Angron's Nails, etc.)—which shouldn't be so shocking now that they're thinking about it since, y'know, he IS the Lord of Ultramar.
-> (And NO, the Emperor does not think about The Room Roboute built for the family on Macragge. Not at all. Nor does He think about how pleasant it might be to just have a nice, simple dinner with His kinda-sons/generals/creations—something He has not known in centuries, since choosing to reveal Himself as the Emperor and dedicate His foreseeable future to protecting Mankind.)
-> (He also does not think about Roboute's offer to help mend His and Mortarion's relationship. Or His and Angron's. Or—)
-> (The Emperor is also ignoring every look Malcador is sending His way. Completely. He must focus on Mankind's future. Nothing else can matter. Nothing else will matter if Mankind loses and dies. Later. Such things may matter later.)
Based on your truth serum!Guilliman, how bad is the second hand embarrassment from the other primarchs? Are they cringing or just looking back on all past conversations they've had and going 'Ohhh that makes sense' ?
Saw your post and that writing prompt is just really good, amazing writing as usual!!
[This is related to this post.]
Oh, the second-hand embarrassment is VERY bad.
All the Primarchs (including those that don't get along w/Robu) know that Robu is THE calm, collected one of their family. His words and thoughts are always precise and perfect. Such is the image he projects.
Yet now... Robu can't control a single thing he says. All his softest emotions and most-hidden thoughts are now being unearthed to so many people. Which, y'know, is very embarrassing.
But also, indeed, the other Primarchs are all pondering their relationship and past interactions with Roboute and are... having a lot of realizations.
Chief amongst them:
The fact that Robu has clearly always paid attention to his brothers and their interests whenever they interacted over the years!
Ferrus was the first to realize this when Robu yapped about how he noticed that Ferrus forges so much that he often forgets to eat—but, ofc, Robu never had the heart to insist Ferrus stop doing the thing he loved (forging). So, to solve this, whenever they had meetings with each other, Robu always made sure to schedule them to be outside of Ferrus' forging hours and instead take place during mealtimes. All to make sure Ferrus ate and felt comfortable doing so!
Imagine the angst of 40k Guilliman being sent to a timeline where Konor Guilliman lived. Like everything is the exact same but Konor survived the assassination attempt.
Would it be easier or harder for Guilliman to see Konor alive then it would be to see the other Primarchs alive?
I suspect it'd be harder. [This is related to this post.]
After all, Konor (to 40k Robu) has been dead for over ten thousand years. Even before Robu was placed in stasis, Konor was dead for over a century and he had accepted/acclimated to his death. Robu had grieved him and, as much as any person can, moved on.
Then, suddenly, he sees Konor again. Alive and older in ways Robu never got to see (because his Konor died when Robu was what? 12 years old?).
At least with his fellow primarchs, during the Great Crusade, Robu had kinda always known that they could die (the Great Crusade was always dangerous; the 2nd and 11th were even lost during it; then the Heresy happened), so any of their deaths were prob less of a surprise than the way a kid hero-worships their parent and believes them capable of anything. Not to mention, Robu was older by the time he lost his bros.
As for in the 40th Millennium, Robu can technically still see his brothers. The loyalists are gone but capable of returning, and the two that are confirmed dead (Sangy and Ferrus) might be able to come back due to Warp shenanigans. As for the traitors... well, Robu can see them every month if he truly wanted to! They're always trying to kill him (sans Horus, of course, but he died due to rebelling against the Emperor, so his death was still comparatively less shocking than Konor's)!
But Konor?
That's his(?) dad!
His dad, who taught him all his ideals! Whom Robu has missed so, so much! Whom he has not seen since his childhood on Macragge and Konor was bleeding out before his eyes, raising a gun at him and refusing to let him close!
And now Robu will have to grieve him again.
Because this isn't his dad, so his hope of him being alive must be smothered. And if Robu happens to bond with Konor during his stay in 30k? Best believe he's gonna have grieve him again when he has to leave to return to 40k!
I guess my long posts DO kinda make scrolling down my dashboard annoying/tedious (which I'm assuming is the reason for your ask, anon)? I (usually) only use "read more"s for the chapters of my fics bc those are linked to my masterpost and I never thought anyone would be checking out my other posts...
But yeah, with how often I've been posting answers for random writing prompts and asks, I should start doing that... Might take me a while to go back and edit everything, so fair warning! Just give me a couple days (depends how free my schedule is)!
And I'll make sure to use "read more"s from here on out! 🫡
Thanks for bringing this up to my attention, anon!
I stumbled upon your first I guess concept post for galaxy of ghost, and got violently reminded of the room. In my mind I think of that room now again because what do you mean he made it? What do you mean it was a labor of love and desire for connection?? What do you mean it was never used??? What do you mean the other primarchs dont even know about it???? I just, cant help but feel this deep sense of sadness whenever im reminded of it cause it feels to me like someone trying so hard to bridge the gap, to get closer and to share all the love the can, to show that theres more to them if others will just let them in but no one ever dose. It feels like being on the outskirts of a friend group and just wanting to be closer but never getting that chance, or being the youngest sibling with a large age gap between the rest of the family and just wanting to fit in to jokes and memories that have already past. It just makes me sick that Guilliman went through thus preparation and building, the anticipation of finally being able to use it, and it just never happening. Hopefully your version of him will finally be able to use it seeing how he's pushing for all those dinners, even if its just in place of his counter part.
Haha! Glad I reminded you of the angst! Robu has always tried so hard to know and love his brothers, even if he doesn't always succeed!
[You may even like this post I recently made, which kinda touches on this subject.]
I have many headcanons for The Room!
Such as:
-> Robu ordered The Room built after first meeting the Emperor and discovering that he has nineteen brothers! (Ever since he was a child, too extraordinary to truly belong amongst his peers on Macragge, Robu has always wished for siblings! For a family that was like him!)
-> All the chairs in The Room were hand-crafted and carved by Robu himself! And all the banners and cloaks on the chairs were woven and embroidered by him, too! (Robu learned such artisanal skills during his childhood, from the many tutors Konor assigned to him, and chose to use them to prepare a safe place to one day spend time with his new family!)
-> Robu also built sleeping quarters for all his brothers and creator! Because he remembered his childhood, when Konor had to completely draft and build a new estate that would be compatible with not only baseline humans but also Robu, his strange too-tall and too-strong son! So Robu decided to do the same thing for his brothers and creator! He was so hopeful!
Anyways! Moving on!
In "A Galaxy of Ghosts," 40k Robu might one day use The Room on Macragge for a family dinner with the 30k primarchs and the Emperor—but at the same time...
This Room was 30k Guilliboy's work, not Robu’s! Likewise, this is 30k Guilliboy's family: his brothers and his creator/father! How could Robu possibly dare to use The Room Guilliboy built to host Guilliboy's family when Guilliboy himself is gone (and might never return, at that)?!
Robu can't. He just... can't. He might tell the 30k Primarchs of The Room, but he won't use it. It is impossible to forget that he is not Guilliboy, who still had the hope of sharing a meal with his family before being snatched away for the Swap; Robu, at least since the Heresy, has kinda accepted that sharing such frivolous times with his family is impossible now. But Guilliboy? Guilliboy was stolen before he could ever be proven wrong...
Maybe when/if the Swap is undone, Guilliboy will return and finally put The Room to use? Drag his brothers and creator inside if he must, for a single family meal?
(But Guilliboy will have, by then, endured the 40k era for centuries. He has long learned just how useless and unfulfilled Robu's hopes for the Imperium and his family were. Guilliboy has even seen The Room in 40k; it is forgotten, dusty, and broken. And it was never used by his counterpart...)
(So why would The Room Guilliboy built be any different/luckier? No need to hold onto that pathetic, sentimental hope any longer... His brothers and creator will never agree to join him for dinner on Macragge...)
(So he doesn't. Even after his return, Guilliboy never invites his family into The Room. They, in turn, already know of The Room and... don't understand why Guilliboy isn't inviting them for family meals on Macragge? Robu always spoke of wanting such things, and Guilliboy surely must, too; otherwise, he would have never built The Room in the first place!)
(THE ANGST IS REAL!!!)
_____
Thanks for the ask, anon! Hope this answer hits you with more feels for this horrid Imperial family!
