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Beautiful marble spires, laden with with ornate sculpturing, stretched out as far the eye could see, encompassing the entire room. A stadium-sized, beautifully decorated bathhouse fit for the gods.
Too bad the Space Wolves had to be occupying it.
Roboute Guilliman, Master of Ultramar, conqueror of a thousand worlds and more, was unsure on which would be ruined first: his sense of smell from the rather...unpleasant aromas given off by the chambers' occupants, or his expensive suit from the amount of moisture in the air.
He did admit the later might've felt downright pleasant on him at some point, but he was not there for relaxation purposes. In fact, not 20 meters further, was the reason he had even come to this planet.
Leman Russ, Wolf King of Fenris, was laying in the largest and most exquisite tub, a rare sight as he usually did not prefer extravagance. Draped to his sides were four women, all of them gorgeous amazons in their own right, barely reaching above his midriff. On the edge, there were several dozens of what Guilliman could only assume were the planet's strongest beverages. He had to suppress a sigh as he approached. The Wolves had received their unfortunate habit from somewhere, after all.
As Russ finally noticed him, diverting his gaze from his "escorts", he had a look of momentary surprise on his face, before bursting into uproarious laughter, sloshing the water around himself.
"Guilliman," his laughter ceased, but he still bore a good-natured smile on his face. "What brings you to this humble respite?"
"I was in the area on a diplomatic mission to the planet of Rapture," Guilliman's own visage remained stone-cold. "They were more than open to joining the Imperium right away. Of course, immediately after I finish said mission, I discover that my brother, Leman Russ, has taken over a system and is using it as his personal civilized drunk tank."
"Oh come now, Roboute, don't be such a spoilsport. It's merely a celebration."
"I do not see why a celebration must last over 7 days, and span multiple planets."
"We overthrew a despised despot while losing only 3 of our own," Russ now reached for one of the bottles, cracking it open and downing it in practically one gulp. "The native population appreciated the gesture, so if anything they're continuing the celebration for us. Ain't that right, sugarlips?"
The women at his sides had small giggles to themselves, while Guilliman had to suppress a facepalm this time.
"Very well, Russ, I have neither the time nor the energy to argue further about this," Guilliman turned around, intending to leave his brother to his own devices, as bad of an idea as that was. "Attempt to not royally ruin something in the meantime, yes?"
As he began walking away however, he felt something whisking toward him through the air. Catching it effortlessly, Guilliman turned around to find a bottle in his hand. He looked at the liquor, then at Russ.
"You know brother, you are already here. I see not the problem in indulging yerself with us for one night."
"Absolutely not."
"Your miniature Imperium will not collapse if it's head takes a single day off."
"Contrary to popular belief, I do allow myself resting, Russ. But this? This is simply absurd. It's not mere indulgence, it's debauchery."
"You insult me with these words Guilliman. You speak as if we are a daemonic pleasure cult. We are not. The Vlka Fenryka are lovers of life and all of it's aspect, including it's excesses."
"Especially it's excesses."
Russ simply rolled his eyes before continuing. "Besides, how long has it been since you've had a good drink with your peers? How much time has gone by without you engaging a single dame?"
Guilliman moved to retort, only to find his artillery exhausted. Russ' questions did hold weight, despite their ridiculousness.
"Exactly," Russ now bore a very sinister smile. "You cannot even remember, can you? Is that not proof enough that an intervention is needed?"
"I grow tired of this farce, Russ," Guilliman's displeasure was now showing on his face. "The Imperium and Ultramar need me as I am. They tolerate you because you are good at your job."
"I see no practical difference," Russ sighed as he stared back at his brother. "Very well, Roboute. As much as you might not like to admit it, I sense hesitation in your voice. I suppose I will need to show you something to finally break through the ironclad fortress that is your ego."
Guilliman was about to fire back, only for Russ to emerge from his tub, stark naked. The ladies once at his side appreciated the site of the amply gifted Primarch. Guilliman...did not.
"I did not require that visual, Russ," he was still internally cringing as Leman thankfully put on a robe.
The Wolf King motioned for Guilliman to follow him, and although he was tired of his brother's vain attempts, he reluctantly heeded him, if only to sate his desire of messing with him so he could move on. Russ took them to a region of the bathhouse unknown to him, away from the sounds of the party. He inquired him several times, only to receive silence as they reached a door. Opening it, it revealed a balcony, and Guilliman was greeted by the sight of the bustling city's skyline. It was a breathtaking view, but one Russ was entirely disinterested in.
"Look at the stars, brother," Guilliman did so, being met with the ocean of bright dots above, still largely untouched despite the sheer light pollution of the metropolis in front of him. "Where once before, long ago, men could only dream of conquering the galaxy and sailing effortlessly through the ether, it is now mundane reality for us. Hundreds of thousands of worlds, growing each day even. So, why not take a single moment of break? The galaxy will still be there to be brought under our light, it has been for billions of years now. None shall think less of you, brother."
Guilliman at least released a small wheeze, the ridiculousness of the whole situation finally dawning on him. "You sound like our father, only arguing covertly for booze and women."
Russ, too, joined his brother, the boisterous brother snickering loudly. Guilliman however, had stopped his own bout, instead now glaring back at the bottle in his hands, realizing he'd never put it down. His conflicted mind at last giving up, he closed his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Oh for the love of...fine. I will...partake in your festivities, Russ."
"That's the spirit," The Wolf King's enthusiasm had skyrocketed with Guilliman's folding, giving the latter a smack on the back which felt more like a hammer blow. "Well, what are you waiting for? Bottoms-up."
Guilliman looked at the bottle. Slowly, tentatively, he reached for it's tap, popping it open. He put the neck of the bottle to his nose, a pleasant aroma of fine concoctions greeting it. With Russ practically ready to shove it down his throat, he at last took a long gulp. The another. And another. And so and so, until the bottle was drained. He was not a super heavyweight like Russ, but he was still a Primarch, and the liquor, despite being of the highest quality, was not enough to give him a buzz.
"Not quite Fenrisian Ale, eh?" Russ was clearly extremely amused at this point, wrapping his arm around Guilliman's shoulder, taking them both back inside. "Don't worry, after a couple dozen of these, it'll make little difference. Now let's you acquainted with some ample...servants."
Guilliman sighed once more as they entered back into the fray of the party, already regretting every decision he had ever made.
Author's notes: Now I know what you're thinking: "BUT WHAT ABOUT TIMELESS GUARDIAN D:"
And my answer is: this is not going to be a regular series. It might slow the actual series down by a bit depending on how long I spend on any particular one-shot, but it overall won't impact it much.
Anyway, a Smurf and a Furry walk into a spa. Heh. Keep in mind, I have not read a single book of the Horus Heresy, so Russ' and Gilligan's personalities are almost entirely based on how I envision them myself. Bonus points if they're accurate, I guess. Sort of a crack fic of a first chapter, but I'm not entirely unconvinced Russ hasn't tried to pull shit like this with the brothers he did like.
Once more, I am off to slave again at the behest of the reviewers and watchers (which are always greatly appreciated), so yes, our favorite Golden Banana is next. Otherwise, this Bone of Domes signing off (wait...).