A Black Templar (OC) x Rogue Trader (F!Reader) Fic
Warnings: NSFW, General Black Templar Dickery, light edging, somewhat ritual sex, soft dom/sub dynamics, slight femdom, praise kink, male POV, explicit descriptions of anatomy.
Thank you all for your support on my last fic! Have another one with Tankred, I'll be posting art of him eventually.
She was trying to kill him. He was sure of it. Since their tryst on the cushion pit in the library, his Lord Captain had brought him to bed a few times, and each time she pushed more boundaries than the last and introduced him to more things to try. He did feel a bit foolish for his initial reaction, but now that he'd had a taste of sex, he'd developed both a healthy appetite for it, and a habit of being in a far better mood than normal. Now, however, was one of those times when she was pushing a boundary he didn't really know how to feel. He stepped into her quarters- His things also scattered about the massive space, because he was admittedly moving in a bit more- and paused, letting out a slow exhale. It was dark, not all that unusual for this time in the simulated night cycle, but the only illumination so far were a row of candles literally guiding him towards the bedroom.
She had told him in advance what she wanted. And he, of course, being led primarily by his cock, obliged. He stripped bare, folding his clothes and set them aside as he stepped into the bedroom. A nest of blankets and pillows sat bundled at the foot of the bed, candles lighting the room. He could smell her here, nearby, but he could not see her, much to his own surprise. He paused, and then knelt at the altar of pillows with a soft sigh, rolling his shoulders. His hair tickled his brow, and he shook it out of the way. He'd have shaved it all off if it didn't feel so very nice to have her fingers carding through it in the mornings. He heard a slight rustle, and one of her tiny, warm hands slid up his spine.
"What is your duty?" She purred softly, and he could not resist the shudder than ran up his spine.
"To serve the Emperor's will." He answered automatically, and she gasped, smacking him lightly.
"Not that!" She hissed, scandalized. He huffed. "Sorry, that's on me... I'm so bad at this, sorry." She fumbled, and he rumbled, leaning back into her just a bit, feeling the warmth of her body against his back.
"No... Continue. That was my mistake." He replied, and she nodded, clearing her throat and pushing him away.
"What is your duty?" She repeated, though he could hear the nerves in her voice, wavering a bit. She was embarrassed, no doubt, and he wanted very much to make up for that.
"To serve my Lord Captain, and protect her from harm." He rumbled this time, and she hummed, her hands sliding over his back, kneading his muscles.
"Good, good. And your purpose here tonight?" She asked, and he cleared his throat. It was an odd touch of nerves that only She managed to inspire in him.
"To serve my Lord Captain, and satisfy her every whim." He replied once more, his voice low and gruff from anticipation. She hummed softly, her hands sliding around from his shoulders, down under his arms, over his lats and to his chest, caressing his pecs before slowly sliding down his belly, creeping lower very, very slowly.
"Good boy, yes." She purred softly, pressing a kiss to the spot between his shoulders, earning a shiver. "And how will you do so?" She asked, her nails gently scraping over his lower belly.
"Eagerly, and with total submission." He replied again, breath catching slightly as he felt her breath ghost against the side of his neck and bottom of his ear. She hummed in approval, nipping his earlobe lightly.
"Yes, good boy. That's right, you're very clever." She praised, and he was finding that it was hitting harder than he expected it to. Her praise sent a tiny thrill through him, and her soft physical reassurances were helping as well. The soft petting, the press of her lips, her gentle presence. So different from what he was used to, but he was hardly complaining or opposing. "And if I want to spoil you tonight?" She purred questioningly, and that gave him pause. Spoil him? No, that didn't seem right, he had more learning to do than she did, her own experience in these matters surpassed his own. He had to make sure that he could return any favors she gave him, otherwise he'd get very upset with himself for failing. A pinch reminded him that she expected an answer.
"I... Would prefer the opposite." He admitted, and she hummed, hugging him warmly from behind, pressing sweet kisses behind the shell of his left ear, her fingers sliding down to wrap around his shaft, earning a low groan as pleasure slid up his spine like a snake, and he couldn't help but let out a groan.
"Of course you would, because you're a good boy." She purred in his ear, slowly stroking his cock, and he couldn't help the low moan that escaped him, his head tipping back, eyes sliding closed. He had never been one to be pampered, not by his chapter serfs or the serfs of dignitaries he may have visited, though that was only once, and never like this. The glide of her hand around his shaft was silken, sweet, angelic. The squeeze and twist, the very slight tug of skin. "You are, and you know it. You're such a good boy." She purred upon hearing his reaction to the praise, and he wanted to curse her for it. He would have too if he wasn't currently shallowly humping into her fist, letting out soft hisses of bliss.
"Don't mock me." He grunted, and she shook her head, chuckling softly, her spare hand groping his left pec greedily. Normally he'd chastise her for it... But getting probably what was the best handjob of his life really made him less inclined to do so. Remarkably so. She chuckled, and kissed the back of his neck.
"I'm not mocking you handsome. Now come on, tell me what you'll do for me tonight." She purred sweetly, her thumb swiping over the drooling head of his cock, earning a moan and a shudder as he leaned back slightly against her, his head tipping back to bare his throat, which she attacked with kisses.
"Whatever my Lord Captain desires." He breathed, and she hummed, giving his shaft a soft squeeze at the base, earning another groan, before she released him.
"Good. Turn around and lay down for me." She purred, pressing a kiss between his shoulders, and he complied, wobbling up to his feet, lightheaded for a half second, before he laid down, propped up on his elbows so he could look at her. She was beautiful as always, and he reached a hand out to her. She allowed him to take her hand, pull her in close for a soft kiss, before she pulled back slightly, and began kissing her way down his neck, inch by inch. His eyes slid closed, head tipping back as she moved. He could probably get used to this feeling. A little voice in the back of his mind shrieked in protest, but there was technically nothing in any texts expressly damning or forbidding this sort of dalliance.
Her lips pressed to his chest, pausing to playfully bite his pec, before continuing downwards, further and further until she was at his hips. Her eyes met his from beneath her lashes, and his stomach swooped. Such an odd feeling, but he wasn't complaining. He had an idea of what she wanted, confirmed when she pressed the sweetest little kiss to the head of his cock. He let out a shuddering breath.
"Are you certain you'd rather that than me doing it for you?" He asked, and she shushed him, lightly smacking his hip. "I'm just saying. You've a small mouth- Hgk!" His words were abruptly swallowed as she wrapped her lips around the head of his cock and sucked, his hips flexing to avoid thrusting up into her mouth. Her tongue swirled around the spongy head as her lips remained sealed around him. It was different from what he'd experienced thus far and he admittedly now had less reservations about it. Her mouth stayed on him as she sucked, bobbing her head as she worked slowly deeper, and his elbows buckled, sending his back straight to the mattress. Moans escaped his lips as she worked, and he couldn't rally the strength to silence them. The soft slurping and slick slide of his cock in her mouth were loud in his ears beyond his own vocalizations. He was far more sensitive than he'd thought possible. He struggled back to his elbows as she worked, his spine not wanting to comply as he lookdled down at her to see her halfway down his cock, sucking contently, eyes closed. They opened after a moment, feeling his gaze and she looked up at him. He saw the twitch in his cock the second they made eye contact, and knew she damn well felt it. There was a twinkle of amusement, before her hand came up, middle and ring fingers glistening as she presented them to his mouth.
He was struck daft by the sweet smell of arousal and pussy, resisting the urge to lift his lip and huff the scent like some beast... Or Space Wolf. Instead, he took them into his own mouth and moaned at the taste. Sweet, tangy, sending the feedback of the pleasure of her own fingers working her cunt open while she sucked him off straight back into him, making him shudder as he aucked her digits clean thoroughly, her hand stroking his cock while her mouth lavished the head with attention. He was shockingly close to his own peak at this point, panting, chest heaving as he released her fingers with a wet pop.
"Such a good boy." She purred, pressing one last kiss to his cockhead before she stood and let her robe drop, baring herself. She was stunning, beautiful, the most gorgeous woman he had- and would- ever see. He welcomed her warmly, hands settling on her waist as she straddled his stomach to kiss him hungrily. He didn't care if he tasted himself on her lips, he would take it, wrapping his arms around her to hold her close. He wanted to rut into her at a pace too cruel for her cunt, he would never. Couldn't hurt her, not if he wanted to. She panted against his lips, sliding down his body, leaving a glistening trail of her slick down his lower belly.
He shivered in anticipation. She had ridden him once, though he had wound up doing most of the work because her legs had been too shaky after her first orgasm. He had loved every second of it regardless. Her cunt slid over his cock, the head briefly catching on her hole, but she did not take him in just yet.
"Hands." She commanded sweetly, and he complied, letting her hold his hands for leverage as she slowly ground her cunt over his shaft. He shuddered, groaning as she slowly rocked against him.
"Lord Captain..." He began, and she only hummed curiously, grinding against the base of his cock, sending a buzz of pleasure through him. He was so close, he knew that she was probably aware, but he told her anyways. "Please... I'm close." He panted out, and she hummed. Rather than provide him relief, she leaned in, slowing the drag of her hips to an almost painfully slow pace, kissing him sweetly.
"You aren't finishing until I say so." She purred against his lips, and he all but whined at the denial.
"Lord Captain, I-I insist." He fumbled over his words, hips twitching ever so slightly against hers, and he was smacked with the rush of air against him as she lifted off of his hips. "No! No no, please come back, I'll behave." He pleaded immediately, and she hummed, shrugging.
"Will you? Do you think you could hold off until you get me to cum then?" She asked, and he had to drag the mush of his brain between his ears back together to think about it. He was throbbing, so close to cumming already that he knew it would take every scrap of his focus and will to not blow his load, but he was confident.
"I can and will." He declared, and she snorted, melting against his front to lightly pin his arms above his head.
"You're so serious... Go on then, I'll set you do as you please, but I have to finish first, otherwise terrible punishment awaits you." She said, and for a half second he was sure he'd be flogged or denied entirely, the defaults his mind went to. A kiss to the nose reminded him that this was her, and she had no taste for outright cruelty.
"What would you do to me should I fail?" He asked, and she shrugged.
"You'll see. Dastardly, wicked things." Her tone was playful and flirtatious, and he huffed in amusement. He pulled his hands free from her pin and sat up, planting her right back against his cock as he kissed her, rumbling slightly in approval as he shallowly bucked against her, letting himself get his wits about himself.
"I will endeavor to succeed then." He replied, and she hummed.
"You had better. I like rewarding you instead." She purred, her fingers tracing softly over his bottom lip. He grunted, and dumped her off of his lap, earning a surprised yelp as she bounced on the mattress. He rolled over her, his front plastered to her back as he ground against her slowly still, pinning her arms above her head with one hand, all but mauling one of her tits with the other as he kissed her neck.
"Mh... I like the sound of that." He rumbled, spoiling her for a moment until he could all but smell the desperation, and then he made his move. He pressed into her slowly, inch by inch, feeling the little shivers that it caused until he was in to the hilt, squared up against her cervix from his angle. He offered little apologetic kisses to her shoulders for any discomfort, and began rocking his hips, shallow strokes that left most of his shaft out of her, slow and almost painfully pleasant, before his hips snapped forward to full depth and retreated, returning to the shallow, steady rocks of his hips, the startled moan that had escaped her was music to his ears. He pressed his face into the back of her neck, nipping the skin there as he increased his pace, earning soft mewls of pleasure. His hand that had been on her tit slid down, down her belly to her mons, dipping to circle her clit.
She mewled something along the lines of it not being fair, half mumbled against the bedding, before he lifted her hips just that little bit more and settled in. His next thrust was hard, stuffing himself to full depth with a loud smack of his hips against her ass, earning a wail. His next was much the same, steady but throwing his weight behind them as his finger dragged over her clit in a pace he knew was frustratingly slow for her. Each punched out moan from her lips was a victory to him though, each delectable squeeze of her tight cunt. He was panting against her neck, yes, but he didn't care, his focus entirely on making her cum now.
"I sometimes wish you were sturdier so I could fuck you with all my strength..." He panted in her ear as he pounded into her. "Grab and knead and pound you through the mattress..." He panted, feeling her growing tighter with each thrust, the slap of skin on skin, the squelch of himself driving into her sopping wet cunt, it was so loud beneath their moans. It was a good thing these quarters were soundproof, though that was a hindthought as he nipped at her, his hips increasing their speed against her.
"Tan-nn-kred-!" She gasped out between wrecked moans, unable to wriggle away from his hand or his hips, not that she was really trying. Her noises of pleasure made that clear. "Nn~! Hh-Harder, please-!" She gasped out, and he obliged more than happily, growling as he pounded into her hard enough that he was sure was probably dangerous. Her warbled moan of bliss as she came however, made that well worth it, her inside gripping him so strnaglingly tight. He shuddered, his hips not relenting as he spilled his load into her, choking out a rough moan. They were both panting, skin slick with sweat and hot as he slowed his thrusts to gentle humps, not bothering to pull out when he stopped.
"Was that a victory then?" He asked, careful that he wasn't crushing her under his weight. She nodded with a muffled noise of affirmation.
"Mhm... Yes..." She slurred, and he huffed, smirking slightly. "Your reward is to cuddle me in bed tonight."
"Ah, a great reward indeed. And what would my punishment for failure have been?" He asked, rolling the both of them onto their sides, though she sluggishly rolled to face him, draping her leg over his hip.
"Being trapped in my bed while I cuddle you to sleep." She replied, much what he wlanticipated, a huff of amusement escaping him.
"Truly an awful fate." He murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. She smirked, wiggling her brows.
"My deviousness knows no bounds." She replied, and he hummed, letting her run her fingers through his hair.
"Of course. Wicked thing you are. You'll have to just wait until I get back at you." He said, equally a promise and a threat.
Warnings: Mentions of death and sickness. Poor Little Cat is not having a good day.
Description: Taliesin is trying to take care of his mortal, fragile Little Cat. But even his best efforts are not enough.
Find the previous parts of this series on my Masterlist, comment and ask to be added to/removed from my Taglist, and remember my Asks and DMs are always open! (Even if I don't reply right away. 😅)
The storm came upon them without warning.
Taliesin strode undeterred through the howling fury of rain and wind. To either side, close enough that he could touch both without fully extending his arms, rose the sheer stone walls of the mountain pass. Water funnelled down their surface in glistening sheets, turning the hard-packed dirt beneath his sabatons into a river that surged halfway to his knees.
Grey water. Grey walls. Grey sky overhead.
It could give the illusion of passing through a liquid vortex.
“Are you all right, Little Cat?”
The disgruntled huff from somewhere behind his head brought a curve to his lips. He felt your weight shift atop his power pack and reached up to grasp one of your calves where it hung over his shoulder.
“Steady.”
“I’m trying!”
He supposed it was only natural you’d shout, given the rolls of thunder shaking small stones loose all around them. Still, he would have preferred it if you hadn’t done it directly into his ear. Taliesin thought about telling you.
A soft curse made him think better of it.
“I just got dry… and now this… Throne damn it….”
Not shouting this time. Also, most likely not expecting a response. Taliesin quickened his step. The sooner they left this narrow pass behind, the sooner he could find you shelter.
A muffled shriek. Arms locked tight around his head.
“Taliesin!”
He stopped and repeated his earlier question. “Are you all right, Little-?”
“Don’t lurch forward like that! I almost fell!”
He twisted his head as far as he was able, catching the barest glimpse of your hip and torso. “Apologies. Perhaps this was not the most inspired idea.”
Your arms remained around his head, but now he felt the extra weight of you resting your cheek atop them. “Let’s just keep going. Please.”
“Little Cat?”
“What?!”
“I will be able to move faster with the use of my eyes.”
“... oh.”
Your hands moved from his face. This time your fingers found purchase in his sodden hair.
Oh. That is… an interesting sensation.
“You may keep doing that if it provides additional stability.”
“Please just keep walking. Or running. Running would be better.”
You sound miserable.
A surge of concern washed through him. He needed to find you shelter. Preferably somewhere warm and dry. Soon.
“Hold on.”
“I am- woah!”
The grinding noise of his armor servos made Taliesin grit his teeth as he jogged through the flooded pass. Already the plate felt heavier than it should. If it sustained much more damage, he might have to remove select pieces. Never an easy task without the aid of at least one techpriest and a full team of Armory serfs.
He sent a quick nonverbal request to the armor’s machine spirit.
Please, remain functional until I find a safer location.
Then he heard you cough.
***
Too hot.
You awoke to the feeling of being stifled, your cheek pressed against something hard, your neck bent at an odd angle. You tried to shift away.
I can’t move.
Your eyes few open to be met by a solid wall of darkness. Somewhere nearby water dripped and rushed. A peal of thunder rattled your teeth in your skull. And bands of what felt like solid metal held your limbs immobile.
Panic.
Let me go, let me go, LET ME-
“Easy, Little Cat.”
The voice drained every drop of terror away. You blinked. Just when your eyes finally began to adjust to the darkness a bright flash of lightning turned everything white. You jumped, the crown of your head bashing against what you could only assume was Taliesin’s armor.
Opening your mouth to cry out resulted in a prolonged coughing fit.
Throne, it feels like my lungs are trying to tear free!
An armored hand spanned the entirety of your back. It rubbed awkward circles, bumping painfully over the ridges of your spine and shoulder blades, until the coughing stopped.
“Breathe. Just breathe.”
He sounds….
Not afraid. Surely not. Concerned? Unsure? You couldn’t place the exact emotion in his deep voice. The arms locked around you tightened uncomfortably.
“T-Taliesin?”
“Yes?”
“Too… tight…!”
“Ah.” The grasp loosened. “Forgive me. Better?”
You were still too hot. And yet, somehow, you couldn’t seem to stop shivering.
“Where… are we?”
“A cave. I discovered it carved into the wall of the pass, presumably by intelligent hands. Rough steps led up to its entrance.”
As soon as you could make out shades of grey, you swiveled your head. The cavern ceiling looked to be about six feet above the floor. You couldn’t see past Taliesin’s bulk to tell how deep it ran. In the lightning flashes, you saw that the Angel of the Emperor was on his knees and still bent nearly double, pauldrons curved inward. What you could see of his face looked….
You snickered in spite of yourself, barely managing to avoid another coughing fit.
“What is so amusing?”
“You look… comfortable.”
A sigh. “I assure you I am not.”
A pang of guilt cut through your amusement.
I’m being a burden.
“You could have kept going.”
His golden eyes found yours. “Your temperature was rising beyond what is normal for healthy mortals.”
You set your jaw, trying and failing to control your body’s shivers. “I would have been fine!”
“I will not risk your health.”
Something in the way he said it filled you with a whole different kind of warmth. You grabbed hold of the feeling, crushed it, and locked it deep, deep down inside you.
Do not think it. Do not feel it. Do not acknowledge its existence.
“Little Cat? Your heart rate is rising.”
“I’m fine.” You refused to look at his golden eyes again. “Just tired.”
“Sleep, then. We will move when the weather becomes less hostile.”
You closed your eyes. And tried very hard to convince yourself you hadn’t heard his last, almost whispered, words.
“Please do not fall ill. I cannot… please.”
***
The storm passed.
You did not wake.
Taliesin tried. He called your name, or at least the name by which he knew you. He gripped your shoulder, carefully, and jostled you. He called louder.
You shivered. You coughed. You even let out a tiny, mewling noise that made his hearts stutter in his chest for some reason.
But your eyes did not open.
Taliesin was an Astartes. A Space Marine. He knew no fear.
Or so he had always been told.
He wracked his brain for any and all information he’d learned from his Company Apothecary. The scarred veteran had treated as many mortals as brothers, perhaps more, in his long centuries of service. From him Taliesin learned of the fragility of the mortal body.
You have been cold and wet for far too long.
He’d tried. He’d sought out the cave for you, even when his every warrior’s instinct screamed to push onward. He’d held you against him in an effort to share his body’s naturally higher heat, even though he’d sworn to keep his distance.
But now you would not wake.
The canvas he’d scavenged for you from the crash site was proving ineffective. Already its edges had been frayed and torn. And a quick press of his gauntlet against your skin showed how unsatisfactory it was at retaining heat.
You need proper clothing.
And rest.
And mortal medicine.
None of these things he could provide.
This failure was inevitable.
He shook his head against the mounting thoughts of doom… and curses… and ill luck….
“No.”
Not this time.
It took more ungainly contortions to extract himself from the cave. His armor shrieked and sparked against the stone. But he emerged with you cradled in his arms, and a desperate light in his eyes. One leap bypassed the carven stairs entirely. Stone cracked beneath his feet, water spraying, as he landed and immediately began to run.
The abandoned outpost will have what you need.
Logic tried to pierce his hope. The outpost had been abandoned for decades. He could not know in what state he would find it. More than likely the primitive inhabitants of this world had stripped it of every possibly useful item long ago.
It will have what you need.
The outpost was still days away. Your temperature was too high. If you remained unconscious, dehydration would take you faster than illness. And what if your illness was no natural thing, but some evil born in your time amongst the Traitors?
What medicine could help you then?
“The outpost will have what you need, Little Cat.” He spoke through gritted teeth. “It will. By the Emperor, it MUST.”
I will not watch you die. Not you.
He could see the end of the pass ahead. Light, like the Emperor’s own golden rays, pierced the grey clouds above to illuminate a gentle slope beyond the stark stone walls. Green grass as high as his hips, dotted with large blooms of some kind, rippled in a breeze he could not yet feel.
Taliesin remembered the cannibal woman’s ominous warnings. How they avoided the land around the outpost. How things that were “wrong” dwelled there.
At this moment, it looked like a paradise.
Which made the gut punch of EVIL suddenly resonating up the pass behind him all the more jarring.
***
He lay on his belly, like the serpent he so tried to be, at the mouth of the gap between peaks. It looked like a great wound in the stone. His two primary hands grasped the edges of the walls as if to rip the wound even wider. His secondary arms supported his torso, bent at the elbow like that of a lizard.
The forked tongue flicked. The fangs glistened in the wan light.
“I smell you, Pet.”
His opalescent eyes glimmered with rage even as His jaw unhinged into an impossible grin.
Mud coated his coils, obscuring the Slaaneshi runes he’d had painstakingly carved upon each pearly scale. He could feel it grating as He writhed. The armor He’d perfected over millennia with crushed Aeldari soulstones and metal slowly extracted from the blood of living humans was scuffed. Even dented in places.
And his hair…!
Rearing upright He raked his talons through the formerly silky waves. Sticks, dirt, disgustingly organic fragments of flora, even….
A repulsive little invertebrate of some kind?!
His shriek of fury sent spiderweb cracks along the sheer stone cliffs.
Whatever interloper was fouling his beloved Pet, and forcing Him to foul Himself in the pursuit, would not die quickly.
His talons ripped gashes in the rock as He catapulted Himself forward. Coils expanding and contracting. All four limbs moving in perfected coordination. Liquid dripped from his fangs to sizzle and hiss upon the earth.
“I am coming, Pet!” His sing-song scream tinged the air an unholy purple. “I am coming to take you home!”
***
In Taliesin’s arms, your eyes shot open. Blank. Unseeing.
I tried writing something again. Sorry, but unfortunately this is only in German. It's too hard for me to translate it into English. I can use a translator for simple things, but it's a bit trickier with longer texts. It's not the best text; I just had it on my mind and wanted to write it down.
Eine einfache, kleine Soldatin der imperialen Armee sitzt auf einer Mauer. Sie blickt in Richtung der zerstörten Markopole und sieht, wie die Sonne aufgeht. Der Himmel erscheint golden. Es ist lange her, dass sie etwas so Schönes gesehen hat. Sie schließt die Augen und spürt die warmen Sonnenstrahlen auf ihrem Gesicht. Ein kurzer Augenblick der Ruhe, als wäre er nur für sie bestimmt. Sie merkt jedoch nicht, dass sich ein Astartes von hinten nähert. „Soldatin!”, donnert es hinter ihr. Die kleine Soldatin – die eigentlich nicht klein war – erschrak und fiel von der Mauer. „Mein Lord?“, war alles, was sie herausbrachte, als sie den Astartes der Blood Angels vor sich sah. Sie sprang schnell auf und nahm Haltung an. Erst jetzt sah sie, dass der Astartes keinen Helm trug. „Eigentlich ist er ganz hübsch ...“, dachte sie. „Aber naja, bei den Verräter-Astartes, die ich gesehen habe, ist das auch keine große Überraschung. Die sahen ja vielleicht furchtbar aus ...“, dachte sie weiter. „Schon gut“, sagte der Astartes und deutete mit einer Handbewegung an, dass sie bequem stehen solle. „Ich bin nicht hier, um dich zu inspirieren oder dergleichen. Ich habe eine Frage!“ Die Soldatin war mehr als nur überrascht. Allein schon einen Astartes zu sehen, war eine große Ehre. Und dann redete plötzlich einer mit ihr und hatte sogar eine Frage an sie. Das war überwältigend. Sie konnte sich vor Nervosität kaum einkriegen. „Ja ... Ähm ... natürlich, mein Lord?“ Er starrte sie einige Sekunden lang an, die sich für sie wie Stunden anfühlten. „Was ist Liebe?“, fragte der Astartes trocken. „Also ... Ich ... Meinen Sie die Liebe zum Gott Imperator? Das ist …“, stotterte die Soldatin nervös. „Nein, das meine ich nicht. Die Liebe zum Imperator und zu meinem Primarch kenne ich!“, unterbrach er sie. „Ich meine die Liebe zwischen zwei Menschen.“ Jetzt wurde sie noch nervöser. „Das ist kompliziert ...“, kam es plötzlich aus ihr heraus. Der Astartes blickte sie fragend an. „Also, das ist nicht einfach zu erklären. Das ist bei jedem anders und jeder fühlt es irgendwie anders ... ähm ...“, stammelte sie vor sich hin. „Ich ... Ich versuche es mal so zu sagen, wie es meine Oma mal gesagt hat: Liebe ist nicht logisch und nicht zu erklären. Wenn es passiert, dann passiert es einfach. Aber wenn es einem passiert, dann weiß man es, und es kann jeden treffen. Oder so ähnlich hat meine Oma es gesagt. Hilft das?“. „Ich würde lügen, wenn ich sagen würde, ich hätte es verstanden, aber das habe ich nicht“, antwortet der Astartes. „Aber man kann es wohl nicht verstehen.“ „Nein, wohl nicht, mein Lord.“ Der Astartes blickte in die Ferne und lächelte, bevor er ging. „Danke, dass du es dennoch versucht hast.“
