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A flutter of soft feathers surrounds you as you carefully step down the stairs.
Sanguinius’ arm circles your waist, helping balance you. You hold your round belly carefully, supporting some of its weight as you slowly make your way down steps you can not see.
“Carefully, my sweet-” the Angel says softly as your foot feels for the last step.
You giggle softly, smiling up at him. “You worry too much.” You chuckle. He smiles down at you, fluffing his wing around you and pulling you closer to his side with it as you make your way down the hall of the Arx Angelicum.
“How can I not?” He says, rubbing a circle on your back. “You're so clumsy now, and your belly bumps into everything. It's adorable, but I don't want you to stumble and get hurt…” he sighs, tucking you under his soft, warm wing a little more.
He leads you to the little parlor like room he had made for you when you settled down. He wanted you to have a place to feel comfortable, like you weren’t in what was basically a beautiful monastery and military complex. Its finely decorated in art from blood angles, with red velvets and gold trims everywhere.
You groan slightly as he helps you lower into the plush chair that you had claimed as your spot, and helped you kick your feet up onto an ottoman.
“How are you feeling?” The primarch asks warmly, moving behind your chair to rub your neck and shoulders gingerly with his big, warm hands. He keeps his wings stretched forward and around you like a protective cocoon, as he always does now when you are near.
You smile up at him, relaxing into the massage. “Hot.” You say, fanning yourself a little. You seem to overheat easily now.
He grins, the soft glow of the nearby fireplace illuminating his fangs. “Hmmm. I would have to agree.” He teases.
You roll your eyes. “I meant temperature and you know it.” You say, snuggling your cheek to the hand on your shoulder.
He chuckles a warm rumble from his chest, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “How in the universe did I get so lucky to get you?” He coos softly in your ear, his wings ruffling happily around you and creating a gentle breeze. “The apothecaries say it should be soon now, yes?” He asks.
You nod, playing with one of the blond curls falling around his angelic face. “Should be any day, he’s dropped already.” You say.
His feathers fluff slightly, and you raise a brow at his pout.
“She.” He says with a soft huff.
You smile, “She?” You repeat with amusement.
His wings twitch with a little flutter. “I’m sure it’s a girl.” He says, pouting ever so elegantly. It was adorable, the Primarch of the blood angels, The Great Angel, pouting.
You can’t help but giggle. “Hmm, well, I think they are a boy.” You say, patting your belly.
“You, my sweet, delicate love-” he croons, petting your hair gently, “-Do not have premonition.”
You blink. And blink again. Before it clicks, and you gasp.
“Sanguinius!” You yelp softly, turning in the chair to face him. “How long have you known??” You accuse.
He chuckles and glances away, having the decency to look a little embarrassed at being called out. “Well…” He murmurs, moving to sit next to you on the arm of the chair. “How angry would you be with me if I said… since the night we decided to try…?”
Your mouth falls open. “SANGUINIUS!” You admonish louder, “You’ve known the whole time! And didn’t tell me?” You pout, crossing your arms with a huff of frustration.
“Hmm, yes. It appears so.” He says, smiling impishly. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “And she’s going to be beautiful, just like her mother.” He says, dropping his voice into a warm whisper.
You feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “Really…?” You mumble, “She… Looks like me…?”
He cups your cheek, and you lean into the soft touch. His expression melts into adoration. “She’ll be the spitting image of you. Except for her wings.” He chuckles, leaning in to pepper your face in slow kisses, “Those are my contribution, at least.”
You sniffle as he kisses your tears away. Your hand falls to your round belly, tracing over it with your palm, feeling the rolling and wiggling of the baby angel in you. You’ve been wondering if they had wings, hypothesizing based on the way you felt them stretch when they kicked their feet out hard. You knew you felt more than little hands pushing against you. But to have it all confirmed?
Another emotional tear rolling down your cheek is kissed away. The Great Angel chuckles gently, nuzzling your neck. “Why are you crying now, my sweet little dove?”
You sniffle. “I just-” you mumble through an emotion thick voice, “It suddenly feels so… so real…”
Sanguinius’ face melts with love, and he scoops you gently into his arms and lap, cradling you to him in strong arms effortlessly. His wings draw around you both in a protective feathered fortress.
His massive hand covers your own over your rounded belly, sharing a moment of feeling little kicks with you. “It is very real, sweet dove.” He murmurs, kissing near your ear.
“And I can’t wait to meet our little angel.”