Author’s Note: this is the second part of mer-Joth’s fic!
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Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @the-pure-angel
Warnings: magical ritual, imprisonment, ask me to tag something if it bothers you
Summary: Joth wakes up post deamon-stabbing. Things go… Strangely from there.
Joth woke up to the sound of smug sorcerer chanting, and the worst headache he's had in over three hundred years. The Thousand Son who made off with Joth's own rightful sacrifice has tied him upside down to some sort of stone. Fucker left his mouth unbound, so the irritated World Eater planned on making it the damned blue badtard's problem. “HEY FUCKER! LET ME OUT OF THIS AND GIVE ME BACK MY SACRIFICE!” He also starTed to struggle against the chains binding him in place, hoping that either the links in the chain or the stone to which he'd been pinned to would give way, thrashing as much as his bindings would allow him to.
“Hmm… No. I had been stalking after that rare specimen for months in preparation for this Ritual. Then you showed up at the last moment and messily ripped it apart. Luckily for me, you kept intact the organs and bones I required for this. I and dozens of my brothers are collaborating together on this Great Work, and should we succeed, it will allow those of us who are blessed by Chaos to work with the Warp much more similarly like it is back home, rather than the ash-fired clay effort it takes to do anything more than minor tricks here and now.” The Thousand son sniffed, glaring naughtily down at Joth for a couple of moments before returning to his chanting.
The World Eater thought about that for several seconds - the greater blessings of Khorne he had earned couldn't be used in this time, on Ancient Terra for reasons Joth could only begin to guess at. The ability to go on sustained Rampages… To ensure the Blood Flowing and the collected Skulls given to the Throne…
It was almost enough to get him to purr and settle into his bonds. “... and if I promise not to interfere with your… Ritual? Will you let me free then?” He could respect another's irritation at a kill being stolen from him. Stuffy blue fuck could have led with that hours ago and saved them both the trouble. But no, stubborn bastard sorcerers refused to communicate in more than smug smirks and annoying as fuck riddles a good ninety percent of the time, trying to prove that they were so much smarter than everyone else.
At least his Primarch survived the Heresy, and had led them to greater powers, as well as the endless glory of fighting for Khorne. Away from the false light and moneyed lies of the corpse-Emperor and his throne of lies and two-faced duplicity.
The thousand son continued to chant for several minutes, the brilliant blue glow of Warpcraft steadily shining through the other's eyes, mouth and hands as he continued the task he had set himself. Fucker didn't even look in his direction in order to acknowledge that Joth had spoken.
One of his oldest and most familiar companions - Wrath - charged to the forefront of his mind, made his dual hearts sing for the preparation of battle, in spite of the deamon-poison stings that caused his body to ache fiercely all over. Joth struggled against his bindings again, feeling some of the metal begin to stretch and give way beneath his bulk and strength.
The thousand son continued to ignore him completely, his chanting in the partially air-filled cave bouncing off of the walls, creating an echo that made it seem as if dozens or even hundreds of fellow Sorcerers were chanting with him, just a beat or two off of his own chanting. The blue of warp use continued to intensity- and started to color and light the water where the other Mer sat tall, hands weaving complicated symbols over the sacrificial bones and meat laid out on the altar the fucker was sitting in front of.
The bones and meat had begun to glow as well. Moments after that, they began to move, slowly at first before gaining speed. They started to spin around and around the room, with each revolution getting faster and faster. Along with the chanting, Joth could swear that he could hear the last pained and frightened calls that the large aquatic mammal had made - had they been a warning call, to chase others away, or a desperate plea for help?
As the glowing and chanting continued to intensify, one of the larger organs suddenly splattered against a sharp rock, causing the color of the warp-crafted light to change from blue to magenta.
Oh fuck no.
Whichever of the dark powers the thousand son had been seeking to strengthen, the plea had just shifted to another, and Joth was not going to participate in a Slaaneshi ritual while tied to a big, fuck-off boulder. He could be interpreted as part of the sacrifice and that was not happening.
Joth continued to thrash and struggle against his binings, feeling the Metal continue to give way…
But the warp-light was intensifying, and the distinctive crunch of bone on stone intensified the magenta hue, prompting the Khornate Chaos Marine to triple his efforts in an attempt to escape.
The light, chanting and spinning of flesh and bone continued to intensify, weĺl-past blinking and deafening to Joth at this point, even as he'd shut his eyes, to try and preserve them.
The sound of his chains breaking was the sweetest down Joth could ever remember hearing, and he shot out of the water - feeling the electrifying buzz of active warp-energy coating his scales… Which may or may not have consequences he'll need to deal with and/or adjust to. But that was Later Joth's problem. Right now he needed to get the fuck out of here before the ritual either ended successfully.
Or… Considering this was a project led and done by The Thousand Sons… Blow up spectacularly horribly in their faces, leading to a widespread and devastating curse affliction them. But Joth had no interest in Being Cursed by an overconfident sorcerer coven.
He swum as swiftly as the twisting tunnels and partially filled watery caverns would allow him, following the scent of fresh air.
About half-way through he battled into something small, soft and warm. His deepest instincts howled Mine! Protect! Defend! As different kinds of chains began to wind around his soul, leading into your small and delicate psychic fingertips.
Having no desire nor time to explain what he was fleeing, Joth scoops you, his newly bonded human up and continues to swim at his top speed, keeping you tucked into his chest, both so that you’re as safe as he can make you be at the moment, and so that you don’t slow him down.
He does not stop when he carries you up and out of the underwater cave system that you’d been exploring. Nor does he slow down as you flail and scream - nor heed much to the confused yelling of your friends.
But since those yelling humans are important to you, they are also picked up as he continues swimming through the air as fast as he can. He air-swims for hours before gently setting you and your friends down on the soft candy beach. He curls around you protectively as a wave of magenta-tinted exhaustion hits him “Danger… in the caves.. Do not return… Little Bonded…” He croon, making sure to use the same language that you and your friends have been yelling at him the most in, his eyes closing, even as he keeps curled protectively around you.