Now that Guilliman is back up and walking around, how would Ostia react to meeting him?
"R'tan, I can't do this."
It'd taken three whispers to finally get his attention. R'tan was busy getting his own men in order, patrolling up and down their ranks. Not that he'd found anything to fix. He'd not even bother to straighten the wrinkled capes or dust off the soot which so often accumulated on the armor of the Salamanders. Ostia and been the one fussing over their livery, much to their amused delight.
Finally, as they received the messenger which signaled their admittance into the deeper chambers of the ship, R'tan turned his head to Ostia.
"You were invited."
"It's a technicality I'm sure."
He grumbled, the lines on his face deepening "You were invited due to your assistance-"
"R'tan I can't do this." Ostia finally let the fear slip into her voice. Not just stress. Not just terse unwillingness to deal with parade protocols and ceremonies that R'tan was used to. They'd done this song and dance a hundred times. But this was too much. Nothing in her whole life had come close to this level of authority. Of importance.
Ostia feared on some level this myth would see right through her. As irrational as it was, at this moment, as her hands fussed at the scaled edges of R'tans cloak, she felt more vunerable than she'd ever been.
The Astartes expression softened. Gently, his warm and calloused hands found her face. R'tan pulled the scion close, pressing his warm lips to her forehead with quiet tenderness. Reassurance. "I would not lead you into the lion's den, Ostia." The whispered words fell hot against her skin.
"I'm half expecting to burst into flames, or get smote for not praising the emperor enough, or-"
R'tan rumbled a deep affirmation. The 'mhmm' nearly loud enough at this intimate distance to drown out her worries.
"If I do get smote then... just... know I told you so." Ostia tried to laugh off her nerves, which immediately rushed back to fill the space between them as R'tan pulled away. His smile was playful, and he simply shook his head before moving to the front of the column.
Ostia would be quite unequivocally terrified. She'd pretty used to interacting with Astartes only due to years of experience. As a young woman fresh on the field she'd have been an absolute ball of nerves.
We just get to see jaded veteran Ostia and not bumbling nervous young Ostia.
But a Primarch? Oh, she'd be a mess.
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