Alpharius hadn't met Aphrodite the way his brothers had.
He hadn't ascended the mountain and thus; he hadn't been presented with her at its base. None of the Alpha Legion knew how the woman had entered the Legion, and even Aphrodite herself questioned it at times.
Despite having rehearsed this day many times in the washroom of his quarters, when Horus Lupercal first saw Maisara, his mouth went dry and his face flushed. She was much, much more beautiful than he had ever imagined. He found he couldn't speak. All he could do was stare at her with that stupid blush taking over his face.
Maisara, seemingly, didn't mind her future husband's shyness. She gave him a soft giggle and kissed both of his cheeks in greeting. This didn't help Horus, but it made that slack-jawed-awe turn into a boyish smile.
The two young Demi-gods stared at each other in a tense, nervous, awkward air that only a first, teenage romance could bring. It felt like forever until Horus' brain screamed at him to do something. And the best thing he could think of was to pull Maisara into a deep, albeit clumsy, first kiss.
The kiss surprised her, but it didn't take long for her to melt into the gesture. Their noses got in the way, and Horus didn't really know where to put his hands. But it was pure, it was loving, and it was a start to something great.
Leman Russ was staring down at Freya, assessing and scrutinizing every part of her like he was looking for a weak point to strike at. There was some truth to that. Of course, Russ had specifically wanted a warrior wife. Someone to fight alongside and help him lead his men to glory more so than a romantic companion.
" You certainly look like the warrior maidens of Fenris." He said with a snarl, leaning in close to her face. His heterochromatic eyes locked with her blue ones, and the intensity of his gaze made her breath hitch.
Freya gave him a smirk and whispered, "aye."
She punched him in the gut with enough force to make him buckle over into her fist. Russ laughed a bawdy, loud laugh and sprang up. Tackling his wife to the ground.
The custodians that had been flanking the pair quickly moved to intervene. Trying to pry the two giants apart as they wrestled,
"Leave us, custodians! We mean each other no harm!" Russ yelled. He leaned in close to Freya and nipped at her neck. "I can tell this is going to be the start of a lovely relationship…" he whispered with a slow laugh.
Ferrus Manus cross his arms and slowly scanned his silver eyes up Tatha's frame. She was beautiful. That was the first thing he had thought of her. Fire red hair and an evidently muscular frame hidden under her plaid cloaks. She was beautiful. There was no question of that. But Ferrus knew better than to implicitly trust beauty. No, if this woman was to call herself his bride, she needed to show him more than just her looks.
"I hope yer not just going to stand there and look at me all day." She said, her voice thick with a Medusan accent.
Ferrus gave a low chuckle that sounded like transport treads creeping across gravel. "I won't. I'm just thinking of how you can prove yourself to me. Surely you're familiar with the Medusan custom of it, aye?"
"Aye. I am."
"How good are you in the forges?" Ferrus asked after a long pause. His eyes focused on her hands, which were firmly clasped on her hips.
Tatha gave him a wry smile. "I think of myself as being skilled. Why?" she said, a playful tone in her voice.
"I think I know how you shall prove yourself."
Fulgrim had been awaiting this day with the patience of a small child. He had wanted a spouse ever since he was young. But the harsh demands of life on Chemos prevented him from ever being able to find the time. The drawbacks of being a Demi-God were present as well, but they were afterthoughts in Fulgrim's mind.
Gloria was everything Fulgrim had ever dreamed of. She was perfect in every way, from her flowing alabaster locks to her pale, sculpted face. She mirrored him to the extent that if one did not know of the Primarch's workings, they might think the couple were actually twins. But that was exactly as Fulgrim had wanted it. No other being was as perfect as him, and why should his wife be lesser than perfect?
The very first thing Vulkan did when he saw Mebeli was to pull her into the strongest hug he could. He held her tightly, touching his nose to hers, and looking deep into her warm brown eyes. She was smiling so brightly and purely as she held him as tight as she could. She was surprisingly strong, which made Vulkan's love for her bloom further.
"I have awaited this day since they took me to Terra, ua la waridi. You are everything I have ever dreamed of and I have just set my eyes upon you. I cannot wait for what the future holds for us." He said, making her ebon face flush a deep maroon.
"I cannot wait either, I. Forgive me, it is hard to speak. I am overcome with my emotions." She said with a chuckle.
"You do not have to speak. The way you hold me tells me enough." He said, pressing his forehead to hers and holding her tighter.
Rogal Dorn was very confused when Victoria was presented to him. He did not know what to think of the matter. On Inwit, marriage was purely political and diplomatic. But there was no political or diplomatic purpose to this union. As per the Sigilites words, this was purely for his own sake. Not for bringing any world to compliance.
He didn't really know how to address her or what to say. So he stood there ramrod straight, his eyes locked on hers. Behind his cool demeanor, the primarch was frantically searching for words and any idea of what to do.
"I. I am sorry, Lady Victoria. I am not sure what I can say to you right now." He said with a small bow. Choosing to merely tell the truth rather than lie to save his face.
Victoria gave him a beaming smile and bowed in return. "It's quite alright, Lord Rogal. I do not need a very formal introduction," she said. Her clipped, polite tone reminded Dorn of the fiercely intelligent princesses he had called his cousins. Victoria offered her hand to him, and he took it gingerly. It was so small and pale compared to his thick, sun-kissed palms.
"I shall show you to our legion then, I suppose"
This was not the first time Roboute Guiliman had been presented with a wife. On Macragge, marriage offers from princesses, queens, and noblewomen from countless petty kingdoms had constantly badgered the Primarch. All of them, he had rejected. Not only did the primarch feel he was too busy for a woman, but he had also known of his elevated status since he was born. And knew for a fact that even the most purely political union would not work.
But this woman promised not just a physical, but a mental equal to him. It made Guiliman hopeful. He had always wanted a companion but never thought it would come to be. He was still worried about the busyness and not being able to see her as much as he might like. But he knew there would be a way to make it work. There was always a way to make it work.
Magnus greeted Styx with the biggest smile he had smiled in a very long time. He had been awaiting this day with the patience of a small child ever since Malcador had told him of it. For his whole life, Magnus had wanted an equal. Someone who understood him and someone he could really, truly talk with. At first, he had hoped his brothers would fulfill that urge. But meeting some of them during this stint in Terra had crushed those hopes.
"I am so amazed to meet you, Lady Styx. I have awaited and dreamed of this day since I first foresaw it. "He beamed, fingers dancing over the cover on the book he held.
"As am I, Lord Magnus. You are just as glorious as I foresaw."
Magnus beamed. "I have something for you. I've been working on it for a very long time." He handed her the book, and she ran her slender fingers over the engraved leather. The book was studded with crystals and had the symbol of the legion at its center etched in gold. "It is a grimoire, like mine, but. I left many pages blank for your own findings and research. I thought that, if you are to serve my legion, you should aid me in my great work."
Styx gave him a bright, beautiful smile and hugged the book to her chest. "I could not thank you enough, Lord Magnus. I am honored to be a part of it."
Sanguinius found it was hard to meet Celestia's gaze. He wanted to cover himself with his wings in an effort to hide from her. Why in Baal's name had Malcador done this? He understood his other brothers' receiving companions, but Sanguinius simply was not worthy. How could anyone ever love him? He was a monster.
He felt bad for the woman. She was so exquisite and her aura spoke of unmatched kindness and intelligence. She didn't deserve him. No one did. She didn't deserve to be trapped with him for the rest of her immortal life.
"Sanguinius…. Are you well?" She asked, her voice as soft and as silken as the gown she wore.
"Yes. I'm sorry. I just. Well, I'm just nervous, that is all." He said, finally meeting her gaze.
She was the most beautiful thing he has ever laid his eyes upon. Her flowing golden hair looked more like sunbeams framing her perfectly sculpted face. His hearts ached. He wanted to love her. He wanted to be loved by her. But he knew it would never come to be.
Lion El'Johnson had no words. He hadn't really thought this would happen, that Maclador's initial proposition would never amount to anything. But there he was, as real as the oak flooring he stood upon. In front of the primarch was who Malcador had sent to be his husband. Husband. The term was so foreign to Lion. None of the knights he had known before were husbands. Or were they? If they were, they had never spoken of it. Marriage was a private thing on Caliban. A private and often political thing that was rarely spoken of. But this wasn't the case with Malcador's… Creation? Idea? The Lion wasn't sure.
But that confusion, that shock and that… Was that worry he felt? Was hard to think of when faced with the perfection of the man that stood in front of him. He was just a few inches shorter, with the most beautiful mess of brown curls on his head. Behind those curls were bright green eyes Lion found himself unable to look away from. He was smiling, a radiant smile that made the Primarch's hearts skip beats.
"I'm so glad to finally meet you, Lion! I'm Ataless, and I pledge to serve you and your legion until I draw my last breath." He said, his voice ringing and full of light.
Lion's mouth was dry, and his face was red. At that moment, he understood what love meant.
Malcador's offer had not impressed Perturabo. and he had tried his damnest to reject it. Even going as far as threatening the old man. He didn't answer any of Malcador's questions and kept repeating how he did not need any sort of companion.
When Hestia was presented to him at the foot of the mountain, Perturabo felt bile bite his chest.
"Perturabo my lord-
"I do not want you. I never wanted you. I specifically requested that they did not create you in the first place."
Hestia's face paled, and she stammered. She was at a loss for words. She knew Perturabo could be curt and rude and that he likely would not be the most outwardly loving. But for him to do this utterly shocked her.
"My lord, I cannot leave you. I have nowhere else to go. My. My entire purpose is to love you. I cannot simply leave."
Perturabo gave her a glare that made her heart freeze. After what felt like an eternity, he let out a heavy sigh. "Fine. But you are a tolerated guest within my legion. You must not forget that."
Mortarion was confused, to say the very least. He hadn't thought Malcador had been serious. How could he? He, the Death Lord, having a wife? It was. It was utterly preposterous, even as a concept. But yet, there she was. Right in front of him stood a small, thin woman with dull brown hair dressed in the same plain, white gown nearly every woman on Barbarus wore.
She was beautiful and delicate, and the sight of her made Mortarion's pallid face flush. She was too beautiful for him, too small and too delicate for a bringer of death such as him. How could she love him? How could anyone love him, for that matter?
He found he couldn't say anything to her, despite having so many words in his mind. She just smiled at him, telling him it was alright while saying nothing.
Lorgar hadn't thought he would ever marry. It was not a matter of religion, the old gods of Colchis themselves had many wives, and it was never taboo for a member of the priest class to marry. The thought had just never crossed his mind.
But ever since Malcador had told him of this project, he had felt afraid. It wasn't a new emotion to him. He was often afraid. Especially considering that this fear came back to the thing that had always caused him the most fear in his life. Kor Phaeron.
He wasn't sure why; he was afraid of Kor Phaeron at this moment. Lorgar didn't have a reason to be, but when he saw Aisha for the first time, he just couldn't shake the fear that something bad was going to happen. To both her and to him because of their union. He tried to shake that fear, to put on a pleasant face as he took her hands in his and pledged his love to her. Her smile helped to ease his fears. It was a beautiful smile, as warm as a sunrise and as beautiful as summer jasmine. It made him feel, just for a moment, that perhaps his fears were unfounded.
It had surprised Jaghati Khan that Malcador followed through with his proposition. He had figured that it would wither on the vine. He wasn't sure why, of course. But it was what he had thought and hadn't really expected to meet a woman that called herself his wife.
His first emotion when meeting Houtu was suspicion. He knew she was not of Chogorisian blood, but she looked like every other Khanum he had met. Everything about her was in line, right down the patterns and stitching of her deel. This caused emotion in the Primarch that he couldn't quite explain. He wanted to trust the woman. He didn't feel like he had an actual reason not to. But he couldn't shake that suspicion from him. But suspicion of what? What nefarious purpose could being given a wife serve? Why on Chogoris being gifted women was an honor between the more primal tribes.
Jaghtai eventually decided that he would welcome her as a wife. Let her into his legion and treat her well. But he would keep his eyes on her, have his more trusted men keep their eyes on her. Just in case…. Whatever it was he thought might happen did.
Konrad Curze snarled at the woman cowering below him. He did not know why Malcador had insisted on giving him a wife. The Night Haunter worked alone and certainly did not need any sort of female companionship.
"It. It is an honor to meet you, Lord. Lord Konrad." Constance sputtered, even though she was supposedly immune to the fear and awe Primarchs struck into the hearts of mortals. It was impossible not to be afraid in the presence of Konrad Curze. His towering, skeletal frame and those pitch-black eyes made everyone afraid. Even the Custodes that guarded them seemed on edge.
"It is not an honor to meet you, wench." He spat, "I will tolerate your presence by order of my 'father'. You will follow my rules and if you do not anger or upset me, perhaps I will let you live. Do you understand?"
The pure venom and hatred in his voice made Constance want to drop to her knees and cry. But she stood strong and blinked away any signs of weakness from her eyes. "Yes, my lord, I understand."
Angron grunted and spat on the ground when Eris was presented to him. Malcador had only briefly informed him of this "project", as with most things that happened to him recently. He didn't know exactly why he needed a companion, or why any of his brothers did, for that matter. They were war machines, not figureheads who needed to appear as human.
"Can you fight?" was all Angron asked of the woman. She seemed strong enough, with a warrior's posture and thick muscles under her plain white robes. Her curly brown hair was bound in a bun and her eyes glowed with bloodlust. She reminded him of the sisters that were left behind, and that made him feel something that a more emotional type might call heartache.
"What kind of question is that? Of course, I can fight." She said, a twinge of anger in her tone.
Angron grunted in approval and walked off. That was all he needed to know.
Corvus Corax didn't really know what to say when he first saw her. But it seemed like Wenona didn't know what to say, either. So, the two stood there awkwardly. Neither could quite meet each other's gaze, and neither seemed to find the right words to say.
"I. I am very. I'm very happy too. To Uhm. To finally meet with you." Corvus finally stumbled out, the words quiet and choked.
Wenona nodded in response, still not quite able to meet his gaze. She fumbled with her sleeve and kept her eyes on the ground.
Corvus flexed his fingers. He needed to do something. This was his future wife, damnit. He couldn't just bumble through him. But no words seemed to form in his mind and the few that did seemed wildly inappropriate. He drifted closer to her, which made Wenona look at him. She was beautiful, in that plain and simple way he had grown up around. He tried his best not to look back at the ground, as did she. Once he was close enough to her, he gently took her hand into his, lancing their thin fingers in between each other.
He gave her a small, shy smile, which she returned. Perhaps this wouldn't be as hard as he thought.
