Departures and Farewells
Firiel sat alone in her quarters at the Storm Hold, her gazed fixed on the steel necklace in her wrinkled hands. The chain was made from the strongest steel available on Tempestas, but the icon attached to the chain; a globe within a jagged circle; the symbol of Tempestas, enshrouded by the Eternal Storm, was made from a metal that came from beyond the world itself.
It came from the metal of the container that had brought Thorondor to Tempestas all those years ago.
Firiel meant to give it to her son, but their last meeting had not gone well at all.
II II II
When Thorondor had introduced Firiel to the Emperor, she had felt as though her heart was seconds away from failing completely. But then, the Master of Mankind had gently taken her frail hands in his own massive ones, and gently pressed his lips to them. Firiel felt all the aches and pains in her body fade away in the presence of the Emperor, replaced by bliss.
"I thank you, my lady," said the Emperor, his voice like music to Firiel's ears. "I thank you for taking great care of my son, for teaching him well."
Firiel had struggled to find something to say in presence of so glorious a being; but in the end, she had said only one simple thing.
"Thorondor is my son, too."
The Emperor had smiled then, and inclined his head respectfully.
A week later, Thorondor had visited her, dressed in a simple tunic and a pair of breeches that looked out of place on him.
Thorondor had watched her as she bustled about the kitchen-place, cooking a meal for both of them.
"You don't have to do that, mother," said Thorondor. "I could get someone else to do it."
Firiel snorted. "None of these younglings know which end of a saucepan to hold; too busy learning how to wage war."
She pointed her ladle at Thorondor accusingly. "That's all your fault of course."
Thorondor's smile widened as he raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. He looked around the room; he had tried to give his mother his own quarters or some of the more lavish ones for her stay at the Storm Hold, but Firiel had refused them all, insisting that her quarters must have a kitchen. They had finally found an unused one near the middle level of the Hold; it was bigger than the old cave at Left Peak where Thorondor had grown up, but it reminded him of it.
His smile softened at the memories.
Firiel saw it and smiled. "There you go again, smiling to yourself for no good reason. Make yourself useful and help your old mother, will you?"
If anyone had walked in then, they would have seen the strangest sight indeed; Thorondor the Storm Lord, ruler of Tempestas and Primarch of the Storm Eagles, chopping up vegetables and laying the table, meekly taking orders from a little old woman who barely reached past his waist.
For Firiel, it had been a long time since she had her son back with her, simply being her son; not the greatest hero of Tempestas, not one the sons of the Emperor; but simply Thorondor, her son.
They had settled down to a hearty meal together and ate in companionable silence. After they were done, they both stood side by side, washing the dishes together.
"It's been a long time since we've done this, hasn't it?" said Thorondor.
"Well, you have a world to run, a Legion to lead," answered Firiel. "Can't have someone as high up as you doing the dishes now, can we? That'll take the prestige away."
Thorondor chuckled. "Maybe every leader should do it every now and then, so that they never forget the simple pleasures of life."
"Hmph, I don't remember you being so agreeable about washing dishes," remarked Firiel, smiling a little. "You probably spent half your childhood coming up with ways to avoid these sorts of chores."
Thorondor laughed as Firiel shook her head with amusement at the memories. They continued washing the dishes in silence after their mirth subsided. Eventually, as Firiel was drying the last dish, Thorondor spoke up again.
"Mother, I am leaving soon."
Firiel paused for the briefest second, before resuming wiping the dish. "When?"
"Two weeks from now."
Pain flared in Firiel's heart at the thought of Thorondor's departure. She had felt it once when her son had first left to join the Storm Riders of the Iron Roost; but then, despite the distance between them, Thorondor could still return to her from time to time. But now, Thorondor was leaving not only her, but Tempestas. How could her son return to her if he was away on some alien world?
"I see, so soon?" Firiel managed to say, doing her best to keep the tremor out of her voice.
Thorondor heard it anyway. "Mother, I've asked fa...I've asked the Emperor, and he said that I may bring anyone I wish. No one in the Legion and the Expedition can gainsay me, anyway. Mother, I'd like you to come with me."
Firiel turned to Thorondor, her expression incredulous. "Come with you? You mean leave Tempestas?"
"Yes," said Thorondor, his smile hopeful.
"But what would I do?" asked Firiel. "I know nothing about those Imperial ships or what sort of duties they have..."
"We can find something for you, mother," said Thorondor eagerly, taking hold of Firiel's hands. "You'll come then?"
"Thorondor, I'm an old woman," said Firiel. "I don't have much time left..."
"But it doesn't matter," said Thorondor. "The Imperium has these juvenat treatments that will make you live longer; make you young again. You've seen what they've done for Gwaine. You can follow me to the stars, mother. We don't have to be separated."
Thorondor was looking at her hopefully, but Firiel looked away. It was tempting; the chance to be with her son for a very long time; the chance to never be parted from him again. But the thought of leaving Tempestas, of lingering on in life through unnatural means frightened her. But as she turned back to look into the storm-grey eyes of Thorondor, she knew that was not the real reason. Though Thorondor was now the ruler of a world, the lord of the Second Legion and a great hero to the people of Tempestas; Firiel knew that deep down, he was still the same little boy who needed his mother.
The same little boy who was looking at her hopefully from behind the mask of a Primarch. Firiel knew that Thorondor could not grow further if he could not let her go.
"Thorondor," said Firiel softly. "I can't go with you."
Thorondor's hopeful smile vanished completely and its sudden disappearance sent chills down Firiel's spine.
"Why not?" whispered Thorondor.
"I'm too old to go traipsing across the oceans of Tempestas, let alone the galaxy," said Firiel. "I'm tired, Thorondor; I want to rest."
"But I told you, the juvenat treatments..."
Firiel raised her hand to silence Thorondor. "I...I don't want to take them. We all have our allotted time in life, Thorondor; some of us longer than others. But in the end, one way or another, we all have to go."
"But that's ridiculous," said Thorondor, his voice trembling ever so slightly. "If we all have our 'allotted time', then life-extending technology like those available in the Imperium would be impossible."
"I don't pretend to understand it completely," answered Firiel calmly. "But all I know is that I feel that my time is coming to an end, Thorondor; and I'm fine with that."
"But...but," stammered Thorondor, the first time Firiel had ever heard him done so, and it broke her heart to hear it. "What about me? Don't you want to be with me? Don't you want to see me bring worlds into the Imperium?"
"Thorondor, you are the best thing that has ever happened in my life," said Firiel. "From the day I picked you up from that metal container, I knew that I had already found the greatest treasure that I could ever hope for. I've already seen you surpass the Thunder Bearer, I've seen you unite Tempestas...I am content."
"If I am your treasure, if I am the best thing that has ever happened to you, why won't you come?" cried Thorondor, his voice rising as he was unable to keep the hurt from creeping in. "Why? Why have you resigned yourself to death, when I can save you?"
"You don't understand, Thorondor," said Firiel softly. "Even if you can make my body young again, this is where I am weary."
Firiel touched her temple. "I am weary here. Do you really want me to cling on to life when my mind and soul are already wasting away?"
"I..."
"And...Tempestas is my home, Thorondor," continued Firiel. "I was born here, I grew up here...and I will die here too. It is not my fate to see other worlds...only this world beneath the Storm."
"There is no fate but what we make," said Thorondor, bitterly echoing what the Emperor had said to him.
Firiel nodded. "This is what I choose."
Thorondor stared at his mother in disbelief for a moment, before looking down at the floor. Firiel went to him and gently lifted his chin, having to tip-toe a little to do so.
"My dear boy, you've grown up and you've achieved so much. You'll achieve more. You don't need me anymore."
Thorondor stared at her silently before turning away. He left the room without another word.
II II II
Firiel sighed, turning the necklace over in her hands. She hadn't seen Thorondor since then and today was the day of his departure.
Firiel got up, grimacing as her joints ached. She picked up her walking stick and headed for the door.
If her son was too angry and upset to come and say goodbye to her, then she would go and say goodbye to him.
II II II
Thorondor's eyes surveyed the crowd through the falling rain, looking out for a particular woman he called mother. He had wanted to go to her to beg her forgiveness for his behaviour, but he had been too upset at first, and then he been caught up in the preparations for his departure. Horus had already departed the day before to prepare things for the Emperor and Thorondor's impending arrival. Garuda and the other Storm Eagles had already been sent up to one of the ships in orbit, newly renamed the Iron Roost.He sighed sadly when he failed to spot Firiel yet again.
"She's not here yet?"
Thorondor turned to see Gwaine, who had now reached the height and mass very close to an Astartes. Gwaine was clad in a power armour bearing the new colours of the Storm Eagles, a dark shade of blue to represent the seas of Tempestas and the shoulder plates coloured grey to represent the Eternal Storm. Thorondor himself was clad in a power armour of similar colours, but far more ornate. His long-time comrade was looking at him with sympathy; Thorondor had told him about what had happened.
"No," answered Thorondor, smiling sadly. "After how I had behaved, I don't blame her."
Gwaine clapped Thorondor on the shoulder. "She's your mother, Thor. She'll be here."
Thorondor smiled back at Gwaine and clapped him on the shoulder in return. "I'm glad you're coming with me, Gwaine."
Gwaine grinned. "Can't let you go around making stupid decisions now, can I? Someone's got to keep an eye on you. I'll see you on the Eternal Storm, Thor."
Thorondor chuckled and watched as his friend headed for his Stormbird. He turned back to scan the crowd for Firiel.
The Emperor had already boarded his shuttle and was waiting for Thorondor. The Second Primarch would not be going to his flagship just yet, but instead he would go to the Imperator Somnium, the Emperor's flagship. The Emperor's shuttle was surrounded by giants in golden armour the size of Astartes known as the Custodians; the personal guard of the Emperor. More of them formed a perimeter to keep the crowd that had come to watch back. All of them wore conical helmets and were armed with weapons known as the guardian spear; an ornamental weapon that was nonetheless deadly.
Thorondor was alone. The Storm Lord watched silently as the other Stormbirds took off one by one, making for orbit. Eventually, only the Emperor's shuttle was left.
Despairing, Thorondor surveyed the crowd again, but failed to spot Firiel.
One of the Custodians eventually approached him, removing his conical helm. Thorondor recognised the stern, unsmiling grizzled face and the close-cropped hair; Constantin Valdor, the head of the Emperor's bodyguards.
"My lord, it's time," said Valdor, indicating that Thorondor should board the Emperor's vessel.
Thorondor looked around the crowd one more time, but still failed to find her.
"My lord?" repeated Valdor more insistently.
Sighing, Thorondor made his way to the shuttle. Just as he was about to board it however, he heard a voice faintly over the falling rain, a very familiar one. He turned.
II II II
With the help of two soldiers, Firiel managed to make her way to the crowd, only to find her path blocked by one of the intimidating Custodians. The visor lenses looked down at her; cold and pitiless.
"None may proceed beyond this point," said the Custodian.
"Please sir, I am Thorondor's mother, I must..." said Firiel, trying to look around the Custodian to see Thorondor.
"None may proceed beyond this point," repeated the Custodian.
"Please sir, I must speak to my son..."
The Custodian raised his guardian spear and gently but firmly pushed Firiel back.
There was great clang, and the Custodian was sent flying sideways, a great dent in the side of his helm. Thorondor stood protectively before Firiel, his eyes blazing and his smile menacing as he glared down at the Custodian, who slowly got back to his feet.
"If you ever raise your weapon against her again, I'll make sure your head flies separately from your body," warned Thorondor.
Turning back to Firiel, Thorondor's expression softened as he kneeled before her, still towering over her even so.
"Mother, I..." began Thorondor, but Firiel silenced him by pressing her finger to his lips.
"Hush, no need for that," said Firiel. "You were upset...and I'm actually glad that you were."
Smiling at Thorondor's puzzled expression, Firiel continued. "Shows that no matter how far removed from us you may be, you're still human."
Firiel gently placed the necklace she had brought around Thorondor's neck. "Here, take this. Keep the Storm in your heart; keep us all in your heart."
Thorondor smiled; it was a sad one. "Mother...I don't suppose you'd reconsider?"
Firiel shook her head. "You don't need me anymore Thorondor. You can take care of yourself and you have Gwaine and your Legion."
She hugged Thorondor and he returned it gently, mindful of her aching bones.
Firiel kissed him gently on the cheek. "Remember this; you might be fighting under the banner of Terra, but you are still a son of Tempestas. Remember that while you might be one of the Emperor's sons, you are my only son. You'll always be in my thoughts Thorondor."
Firiel released him and took a step back as Thorondor stood.
Mother and son stared at each other silently for a long moment, the rain falling around them.
"When I return, I will show you pictures of Terra and the other worlds," said Thorondor quietly. "I will tell you stories of me and Gwaine's adventures there."
Firiel nodded, smiling. "I look forward to it."
They both knew it was a lie. Deep within their hearts, they both knew that they were seeing each other for the last time.
"Go, my foolish son," said Firiel softly.
Thorondor bowed to her. "Goodbye, mother."
He turned away and made his way to the Emperor's shuttle. As soon as he boarded, it took off, making for Tempestas's orbit.
He did not look back even once the whole time.
Firiel's gaze followed the shuttle until it vanished into the Storm, allowing the falling rain to wash away the tears that had begun to flow.
Aboard the shuttle, the Emperor alone saw the tears that were streaming down Thorondor's face.
Well, that's it for Primarch II's story for now. Next chapter onwards we'll be returning to Baybar and Primarch XI's story.