Work Text:
Evaine sat across her mother, a near perfect reflective image of Amabilis. The piercings under her lip clinked softly as she drank from her fine teacup. The warm sunlight shone down on her, reflecting from the ring on her finger and the winged sword hanging from her necklace.
The family gardens were lush, bright green, vines looping and weaving perfectly around arches and trellises. Not a leaf was out of place, serfs tending to it all year round. Finely dressed servants harvested from the vineyard, baskets of plump grapes in their arms. A pair stood to the side, silently and patiently waiting for any orders by the family.
Domnus was a large man, easily twice Amabilis’ size. For a baseline, he dwarfed most men, deep golden curls tamed and styled with a green laurel atop his head. Unlike the women in his family, he tended to don tunics and togas. He wore a wide smile, helping himself to a tray of puffed sweets. His thick beard was sprinkled with white, crows feet crinkling the corners of his eyes.
Beside him, Amabilis wore her bright red hair in a series of elaborate braids high upon her head. She had the same fair skin, soft and supple, fine lines betraying her age and the natural wear of giving birth. Gray lines of hair were woven through her braids expertly, showcasing them rather than hiding them. She’d embraced aging naturally externally, though she’d started considering rejuvena treatments.
Amabilis’ sharp hand snapped across his arm. “Stop eating all of it. Evaine’s husband will want some.”
Domnus swallowed a thick bite, chasing it with the wine at hand. “I’m hungry! If the man wants a meal, he’ll have to stay for dinner.” He looked towards his daughter, brown eyes bright. “Is he staying for dinner?”
Evaine set her cup down, dabbing her lip with a napkin. “I can’t imagine he will. How is Felicitas? Is Odo still alive?”
Amabilis snorted softly. “Odo’s ascended successfully to Sergeant. He sends word when he’s in system, rare as it may be. He’s aiming high, to be part of Lord Guilliman’s personal guard.”
Evaine raised a brow. “Is he still on that?” When Amabilis nodded, she tipped her head slightly. “He certainly aims high. Tell him I hope he doesn’t die doing something stupid. I fear our paths have little chance to cross.”
Amabilis raised a brow, driving home the perfect reflection of her daughter. “You’ll be travelling often.”
Evaine nodded her confirmation. “Quite a bit, particularly deep into space, to new systems.”
Amabilis hummed softly. “Good. Leave a good name for us. So, he’s a Rogue Trader? Or did you meet another ambassador?”
Evaine shook her head, running her finger over her ring. The emeralds shone, catching and reflecting the light. “Neither. I’ve yet to meet a Rogue Trader that didn’t think themselves too high and mighty. And if another ambassador needs my help, then they should give up their badge of office.”
Domnus chuckled softly, shaking his head. “I’ve heard several ambassadors find comfort in the company. No need to shame them. Two heads are better than one.”
Two sets of deep blue eyes shot towards him, sending a cold shiver down his spine. Throne, they had an identical stare that shot daggers into his heart. He wore an easy smile despite it, staring fondly at his wife and daughter.
Amabilis rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “Anyway. Felicitas is well. She’s studying to be a diplomat as well. No interest in men or women yet.”
Evaine gave her a smile, tilting her head slightly. “Just as you taught all of us. No thinking of partners until there’s a badge in hand.”
Amabilis hummed softly, staring at her evenly. “Of course, I won’t stand for dependent children.”
It was a point of pride for the Lavinia family - not a single member of their proud tree would be dependent on a partner. There was a job for everyone, no matter their health. They had not built their name up for as long as they had by marriage or nepotism. Regardless of their birth, the only advantage it gave them was a high education.
The primary point of contention was children. Offspring, the biological continuation of their bloodline. Adoption wasn’t unwelcome, nor treated as lesser, but there was an emphasis on the biological child. It would likely stay as a long-standing argument for the rest of their bloodline.
A servant approached them, an older woman who bowed her head. She was the head servant, hair nearly white with age and deep wrinkles in her hard face. Evaine had never seen her smile in her entire life. “The lord is here. Shall I invite him to the garden?”
Amabilis nodded, waving her hand slightly. “Of course. Be swift, I’ve waited long enough to meet Evaine’s husband.” She shot her daughter a sharp look from the corner of her eye, knowing how long she’d hidden her marriage.
Evaine ignored the expression, hiding her deep breath as she drank from her cup again. Setting her cup aside, she motioned for a servant to step forward and refill it. “He prefers wine. A large glass.” The servant bowed, disappearing from view to collect a larger glass and fresh bottle.
Domnus leaned back comfortably. “He likes to drink?”
Evaine nodded. “He often drinks wine with his meals, the older the better. Never enough to become inebriated, though I’ve seen him drink far more than I thought possible.”
Amabilis narrowed her eyes. “A high tolerance?”
Evaine took her cup, holding the saucer in her lap. “Incredibly.”
The old servant’s cane tapped as she walked, leading the tall man. Both Domnus and Amabilis straightened up at the sight of him, squaring their shoulders. Domnus went so far to stand, bowing low. “My lord.”
Lion’s forest green eyes scanned over the area, drinking in every soul. They narrowed when the servant returned, tall glass and full bottle in hand. She stopped midstep, gasping softly at the sight of the primach, but found herself quickly, bowing and stepping forward to prepare the glass.
He stepped towards Evaine, sitting beside her stiffly, shoulders square, jaw set as though he was preparing for a battle. Even dressed down and out of his armor, he dwarfed everyone present, even Domnus. He let his hands rest on his thighs, curling and uncurling his fingers slowly.
Amabilis found her voice, clearing her throat. “My lord primarch, I wasn’t expecting you.” Her eyes flicked between Evaine and Lion, connecting the dots swiftly - the black and emerald ring on Evaine’s finger, the winged sword on her necklace, the subtle twitch of Lion’s leg pressing against hers.
Lion tilted his chin in a short nod. “I prefer it that way.” He was still scanning the area, taking in every servant, taking in the smooth paths, the tall hedges.
Evaine crossed one leg over the other, pressing her thigh and knee against his leg. A soft pressure, subtle to any watcher. They didn’t need to press closer or hold each other, not in public, not even in her family’s private garden. “Lion, this is my mother and father. Amabilis and Domnus.”
Domnus was still standing, stiff and wound tight. Amabilis’ hand snapped across his arm again. “Sit, you look like an idiot,” she hissed. Straightening up, she put on a polite smile on her face as she looked at Lion. “My lord… You’re…?” The question faded from her lips, disbelief gripping her tight.
Lion felt a small smirk pull at his lip. “Yes. I have no intention to refer to you as mother or father, respectfully.”
Domnus shook his head firmly. “Oh, no, no, please. How shall we refer to you? Lion? Son? Lord El’Jonson?”
Lion took the tall glass of wine, which looked suddenly small in his hand. “Lion is acceptable.”
Amabilis cleared her throat, sipping her tea. “Hm, well, Lion, I see Evaine has certainly moved high into the world. So, if I may get to the point of this meeting, I have a question to ask.” At Lion’s tip of his glass, she continued, “Has the marriage been consummated? If not, when should I expect grandchildren?”
Evaine’s right eye twitched and her face blossomed in red. “Mother!”
Amabilis waved her hand dismissively. “Ignore her.”
Lion huffed a soft chuckle. “Yes. Primarchs are incompatible to reproduce with humans. If not, Evaine would be well into her first pregnancy.”
Evaine’s face matched the shade of her hair and she glared hot at Lion. “Shut up! Both of you!” She glared at her mother, eyes darting between them both. “There’s no need for you to ask such a thing nor for you to answer!” Her tone was accusatory, hoping to stab them both.
Lion barely hid his smirk from her, drinking his wine. If they weren’t in front of others, he’d goad her more. The way she glared, the flush to her face, nothing entertained him more. She let him get under her skin, for better and worse.
Domnus chuckled, slowly relaxing despite the way he stared at the primarch. “Why don’t we calm down? You are Legion Mother, no? In a way, that makes you step-”
“No,” Evaine and Amabilis snapped at him, glaring with those piercing deep blue eyes. Amabilis continued, “They were born of their own mothers and fathers. Unless Evaine has birthed them, they are not hers.”
Evaine nodded, annoyance with her mother turned towards her father. “And, I assure you, father,” she spat the word, “I have not birthed nearly two hundred thousand men.”
Lion held out his glass, letting the servant refill it. As she stepped back, she motioned for her fellow servant to collect another bottle, sensing a swiftly growing problem. “The Emperor has given her the gift of perpetuality. If I could, I would certainly give her a hundred thousand offspring.” He ignored Evaine’s hard glare, drinking the deep wine.
Amabilis stared, slowly asking, “Perpetuality?”
Evaine stepped in, leaning over to grab one of the remaining pastries - while shooting her father a glare at the nearly emptied tray. “Yes,” she answered. “So long as Lion lives, as will I. If I am to fall deathly ill or something else were to take my life, I will simply be revived as though nothing happened to me. It is a gift given to all Legion Mothers.”
Lion frowned down at her. “Nothing will take your life as long as I live.” There wasn’t a hint of doubt in his voice, as confident in the statement as though he was stating the truth of the sun will rise and fall in steady orbit.
Evaine licked her lips, swallowing the bite she’d taken. “I am free to travel as I please, don’t think I’m bound to his side. Though, the Dark Angels are prone to travelling deep and far, so I will have little reason to leave their side.”
Amabilis leaned back, breathing in deeply. Beside her, Domnus took a breath and broke into a laugh, shaking his head. It was a full body laugh, his thick chest curling over as he clutched his sides. The sound echoed off the smooth stones, his bellowing bouncing across the stone paths.
Amabilis shot her husband a cold glare, hitting his shoulder. “What’s so funny?! Please, tell me! Share what’s so funny, dear!”
Domnus grinned at her, wrapping his arm around her waist to pull her close. “What’s so funny is that our daughter is fucking a primarch and immortal. Your bloodline will live on as long as she does! Now you don’t need to worry about such things as offspring and grandchildren!”
Amabilis trembled with barely restrained rage. “You mock me?!”
Domnus bowed his head, kissing her deeply. She grabbed his shoulder, returning the kiss despite her outward anger. Still, she huffed, her teeth visibly biting into his lower lip.
Lion leaned down, lowering his voice to only be heard by Evaine. "I see where you get it from.”
Evaine narrowed her eyes at him, her flush returning to her cheeks. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Lion simply gave her a brief smile - barely visible to any onlookers, a softening to his eyes and his jaw. Then, he straightened up, drinking his wine. “Nothing.”
She hit his arm, huffing as she looked away from him. Shaking her head, she let herself lean into his side and cleared her throat loudly. “Mother! Father! Stop it. I don’t want another sibling.”
Domnus laughed, holding his wife close as she averted her gaze. “I wouldn’t be opposed to making another.”
Amabilis glared from the corner of her eye, warmth spreading across her cheeks. “You’ll be lucky I allow you in my bed for the forseeable future.”