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Horus adjusted his outfit, making sure he hadn’t missed anything sharp or hard on it. He had to do this just right. He couldn’t afford any mistakes. Perturabo couldn’t afford any mistakes. He was going to have to be so careful with this.
With a final check and a sigh, Horus knocked on the door to Perturabo’s quarters.
No response.
“Perturabo?” Horus called, “Perturabo, can we talk?”
Nothing.
Horus was about to try again when the door opened.
Perturabo’s room was dark. More than a few lumens were hidden by various broken objects. It looked a little bit like a storm had blown through and knocked a lot of fragile things to the floor. Perturabo was sitting on his bed, back to Horus, methodically shredding a sheet into long strips. He was wearing an Olympian robe, although it looked like the hems had been torn off and the pins at the shoulder were clearly just repurposed shards of metal.
Horus’ hearts ached.
“I came as soon as I heard,” Horus said quietly, carefully shutting and locking the door behind him, “What-”
“Olympia is compliant again.”
Horus swallowed. Perturabo’s voice was cold. Empty. It was wrong. Perturabo was reserved, yes, but he wasn’t… emotionless.
“I know.”
“Are you here to punish me?”
Horus had to be so very careful with his answer here.
“... I am not.”
Perturabo’s shredding paused, then continued.
“Of course not. I am a son of the Emperor, one of his precious Primarchs, it would be bad publicity if I were punished for carrying out his will,” he said darkly, head bowing a little.
“It would be,” Horus agreed.
Perturabo didn’t look at him.
“What do you want, Horus?” he asked.
“I want to talk. I want to know how you’re doing. I want to ask your opinion.”
Perturabo finally glanced over his shoulder at Horus. The look in his eyes made Horus want to cry.
“What opinion could I possibly offer that would be worth anything to you?” he hissed.
Horus took a step forward before he could stop himself.
“Your opinions have always mattered to me. Always. I know I have not made that clear to you, I know that, but Perturabo, I swear-”
“Spare me your pity, Warmaster,” Perturabo growled, “I am in no mood to hear about how you wish you could have “helped” me-”
“Let me speak,” Horus demanded in a quiet voice.
Perturabo looked away from him again, but didn’t say anything.
Horus took a breath and said, “I have always valued you and your opinion. You are one of the most vital of our brothers; do you think I don’t know how many important worlds and routes are garrisoned by your sons alone? Do you think I would have left that job to your legion if I did not believe you capable?”
Perturabo tore another strip from his sheet. Horus took another step toward him.
“That is part of why I came, but it is not the main reason. Perturabo, your homeworld is burning. Do you really expect me to think that you’re okay?”
There was a nigh-imperceptible flinch at Horus’ question.
“...my feelings do not matter-”
Horus snapped a Cthonian curse that made Perturabo’s entire body go rigid.
“Do NOT say that! Do NOT act like your wellbeing does not matter! Damn it all, Perturabo, talk to me! I am not a mind reader! Tell me-!”
Perturabo shoved himself to his feet, turning to face Horus with a desperate snarl on his face.
“Tell you WHAT?! That I have destroyed my home, killed the only other family I had, burned innocent people in their cities to prove a point to an Emperor that refuses to even acknowledge the horror of that?!” Perturabo stalked toward Horus, arms trembling with the force of his clenched fists. “Horus, we both know what he ordered done to Monarchia! We are not above censure, nor should we be! So what makes this different, other than the fact that I can claim I was doing it as the Emperor’s will?!”
“Perturabo-”
“YOU let ME speak!” Perturabo roared, and Horus dipped his head slightly, although he did not back away even as Perturabo stepped closer.
“Can you tell me that my actions were justified? That the oh-so-important work of my legion outweighs what I’ve done to my home?! My sons- Horus, my sons knew it was wrong! They refused to go through with it! They denied my orders!” Perturabo let out a strangled sound that could have been a laugh or a sob. “I went to such measures to ensure that my sons would be capable of thinking on their own, and I succeeded! They recognised the horror of what I asked of them, and they refused! And we both know full well what our Father would demand be done to them if he knew!”
Horus could almost hear the creaking of Perturabo’s bones as his hands clenched tighter.
“And yet, I face no censure. No consequences. I have decimated my homeworld, the civilian population I was supposed to protect, and what of it? It is not, cannot be forgiven, and yet my actions have not even garnered recognition, let alone punishment!”
Perturabo was almost in Horus’ face now. Horus could see the sheen over his eyes, and it hurt even as part of him thrilled. He didn’t have nearly as much work to do as he thought.
“So tell me, Warmaster, exactly what my opinion is worth. How much do you value my words now?”
Horus simply looked at Perturabo for a moment, taking in the sight of his brother.
“I value them the same as I always have. Your actions have not changed that. But you are right, Perturabo: this should not have happened, and it should not have gone unremarked upon. It is a horror, and if the Emperor were the ruler he claimed to be, he would recognise that.”
Perturabo’s eyes narrowed fractionally. Horus carefully placed his hands on his brother’s shoulders.
“I’ve been talking with our brothers. Yours is not the only story like this. I fear… Perturabo, I fear that once the Crusade is over, the Emperor will dispose of us and our sons. That is why he has not made a judgement on your actions; we have nearly reached the end of our usefulness, and this… this is simply one more reason he can use to claim our removal was necessary when the time comes.”
Horus could feel Perturabo start trembling. He pulled his brother into a hug, feeling Perturabo return the gesture with a kind of ferocity that hid heartbreak.
“I will not let that happen. It is my duty, as Warmaster and brother, to protect everyone below me.”
Perturabo stilled.
“Horus… that…”
“It is heresy,” Horus said evenly, “to turn against the Emperor. But if this is part of his rule… is it truly something we want?”
Perturabo didn’t move, but he didn’t pull away from Horus either.
“If you join me, we can prevent ourselves, our brothers, and our sons from becoming the next monsters that need to be slain to protect mankind. We can make sure this does not happen again.” Horus gently pushed Perturabo back just enough to look him in the eyes. “I know it will not fix your home, but it will help save other worlds from suffering the same as yours has. Siding with me will put you and your sons in danger, but… perhaps it will even the scales, to have fought to keep this horror from happening again.”
Perturabo stared at him for several moments, then bowed his head.
“...I would like to know what exactly it is you would ask of me, Warmaster,” Perturabo said quietly, and Horus couldn’t help the smile that grew on his face.
“Of course. Let’s talk on my ship, shall we?”