176. On Whom it Depends

The man managed to surprise Titus. He was completely different from what he had envisioned him to be. The image of the twisted traitor had no overlap with the large, composed man Vox had led into the room earlier. The picture he presented at present again had no intersection with the wounded man, raging in helpless desperation he had heard through the door and seen in Vox’s memories.
Tariel was calm and quiet. He kept close to Titus wherever he went, sometimes even mimicked his stance to melt away into the background. When they had met the rest of the team, he had introduced him to the others and become certain that all of them were at least suspicious of the new member.
Xavor had asked if he had started to speak yet and to the surprise of all, Tariel had answered in a pleasant tone of voice “He has. Thank you for asking”, and left it at that.
The former Primarch had not freaked out when they all had gotten naked, he had said not a word unless specifically addressed. But he listened. While Aegis talked about the things concerning them, Titus could almost see him taking in and filing information. He sat in the place where Vox was supposed to sit and Titus was sure that he had picked up on that. He had shifted position ever so slightly to leave a little gap between them, moving up to Xavor instead. The black wolf was in the habit of sitting with his arms on the edge of the bathtub, so that he practically embraced the people next to him and although Tariel tried to avoid contact with him, he preferred this over sitting right next to Titus.
Of course, Guilliman having taken Vox was the topic of the day. They all were concerned about it. Xavor did not help by pointing out that things were looking really bad if not even Tiberius had tried to assure them of the noble intentions of his Primarch.
“Whatever else this is”, Titus finally said. “It’s a leap of faith.”
“I agree”, Gerneya could be heard. “We should trust in Lord Guilliman’s good intention and loyalty to the Emperor.”
Titus exchanged glances with all of them and in Arrick’s ironic smile he found his own, slightly sheepish admission mirrored that they would rather trust in Vox.
Her absence led to Titus lacking his bathing partner and so, he had to make do with Tariel. It was this moment that he saw a crack appearing in the former Primarch’s mask of controlled composure. As fast as it had come, the man plastered it over, however. He stood up and allowed Titus to wash him without a word but in the way he tensed and turned inwards, it became obvious how uncomfortable he was with the situation. When he was handed the sponge, there was another telling twitch but, again, the former Primarch overcame whatever went on inside him by willpower alone and started to rub Titus clean.
While he did so, Titus reflected in amusement that it had not been too long ago when he had been uncomfortable himself.
When they had managed to get everyone clean, they all sank back into the water again. Tiberius, Luriel and Arrick left the tub quite soon to tend to their implants and get their joints oiled but they stayed close by. This would have been the point where everyone with two organic hands left would have started to work out whose turn it was to stroke Vox’s feathers and the absence of her left an uncomfortable silence.
“So, Tariel”, Xavor broke it. “You’ve started to speak?”
“Yes, Xavor”, Tariel answered calmly.
“Not overly much though.”
“I’ve never been one for words”, the black wolf was informed.
“Yeah, I can imagine. You’re probably worse than Dankwart. Never saying a word, always listening, taking it all in but let me tell you: You’re with Aegis now. You’ll have to live up to a certain standard of humour around here.”
“Could you give me a benchmark?”, Tariel inquired politely.
“You’ll learn”, Xavor said curtly. “But to really impress us, you’d have to beat Dankwart.”
Dankwart gave a little wave when both of them looked over to him. Titus did not try very hard to conceal his smile and the others were starting to grin as well.
“Who do I have to beat if I don’t aim to impress anyone?”, Tariel wanted to know, leaning back nonchalantly.
“Xavor”, Arhia cut in before Xavor could answer.
“But don’t aspire too low”, Xavor said easily. “I’m sure, you’ll at least be able to beat Luriel.”
“That’s right”, Luriel commented from the side. “I’m the humour point of origin here. Everyone has more humour than me, except for Xavor who has negative amounts.”
“And Dankwart is your champion?”, Tariel asked.
“Exactly”, Xavor said with conviction. “Dankwart is the greatest jester of all. Laughing at us behind his iron mask of noble severity.”
“Such expertise is, of course, beyond me”, Tariel said, shooting Dankwart a glance, who kept his usual impassive face. “I sometimes smile.”
“You do?”, Xavor inquired with exaggerated surprise.
Tariel smiled.
“No, just kidding”, he said with laughing eyes.
“Right”, Xavor replied, settling back more comfortably. “You had me worried there for a moment.”
“Why?”, Tariel asked bluntly.
“Did you see anyone smile here?”, Xavor asked provocatively. “You wouldn’t have fitted in! And we are rough with people who don’t fit in, let me tell you!”
“I see the scars all over you”, Tariel replied with ironic gallantry. Xavor was the least scarred of all of them.
“Don’t be stupid”, the black wolf said with a dismissive gesture. “I’m not talking about physical abuse.”
“Would you prefer physical abuse, Xavor?”, Arhia asked.
Xavor actually seemed to think about this question.
“No”, he finally replied and very gently flexed his muscles. “I’d get bored far too soon”, he said. Now, even Corven had to grin. Arhia had walked right into that. All of them had found out by now that Xavor was certainly the strongest of them and a formidable fighter on top of that. Vox and Titus frequently bested him in a fight and Arrick was getting a good ratio in hand to hand combat with him since he had adapted to his new arms but nobody was too certain whether he let them win for hierarchical reasons.
“Speaking of scars”, Xavor continued, turning back to Tariel. “Where did you get that one from?” He pointed at the ugly, purple scar on Tariel’s shoulder. The white fire had gotten too little time to heal it and it looked very similar to the two scars Vox bore.
Titus raised a hand before the man could answer.
“I should tell you a detail about our new comrade you haven’t learned so far”, he said slowly and was glad that Vox and he had come up with this beforehand. “Tariel will be joining us as a black shield”, he said. “For those of you who are unfamiliar with the applying rules, just know that nobody is to ask him anything. He is allowed to tell, however, and a superior may ask him details for strictly tactical reasons. Otherwise, it is entirely up to him what he answers.”
“And?”, Xavor asked with an almost apologetic smile. “Will you answer? Brother?”
“It’s an old wound”, Tariel said with a soft voice, holding Xavor’s steady gaze. “But the weapon that caused it was of a special nature.” He turned to Arrick at this point, who held out his right arm for Luriel to oil the joints.
“And it still impedes me somewhat, if you’re wondering, captain”, Tariel informed his direct superior politely.
“Duly noted”, Arrick grumbled, moving the digits on his right hand to check their motion.
“What about you, Gerneya?”, Tariel asked, turning to their apothecary. “How did you lose your leg?”
Titus saluted him quietly. With precision and tact, he had picked one of the few targets who showed no open hostility towards him and instead radiated nothing but concerned interest. She was far away from amiable, however, and Gerneya could be unfriendly in a very gentle and firm way.
“Necrons”, she said simply, letting him walk right into a padded wall.
“Really?”, Xavor asked, exchanging a short glance with Titus. “That’s how Tiberius lost his leg too, right Tiberius?”, he prompted.
“Indeed”, their male techmarine answered and flexed said leg, testing its mobility.
“You should hear that story, Tariel”, the black wolf said when nothing else was forthcoming and Tariel chuckled. It was a rather pleasant sound.
“By the looks of everyone, I don’t think I will”, he said peaceably. “And I appreciate your attempts, Xavor, but let’s not pretend.” He took a look around. “You all know where you picked me up”, he said. “I thank you for keeping me alive for the word of your lady alone and I hope I will be able to repay your patience. Do me a favour though: Don’t deceive yourselves about my nature. I don’t expect your kindness.”
Corven gave a snigger and the grey wolf’s smile looked rather happy when he said: “Well done, Tariel. Very well done. I admire what you attempted there. A statement like that will either harden us against those who gave us our orders or soften us to you. I’ve rarely seen anyone who could construct something like that on the fly.”
“Do you know anyone at all?”, Tariel asked with a comfortable smile.
“Oh, yes”, Corven said, grinning broadly. “And since it was her, who gave us our orders, we don’t have to play your games. We just have to let her deal with you.” Corven leaned forward in the water. “You’re her responsibility. Don’t you forget that”, he said and nothing anyone had said so far had sounded as much like a threat as this.
Titus stood up, making Corven retreat by a glance at him alone. “Enough of this”, he decided firmly. “Tariel is with us now. If this is for better or worse depends on all of us, not just on him. I’ve seen you all at your best. Consider if you shouldn’t show him this side of you as well.” With this said, he led them out of the bath, where it was time to tend to hair and nails.
It was Arrick, who came over to Tariel.
“Want me to shave you?”, he asked with a grim smile. There were a few irregular isles of hair left on his crown where he had removed the long patch of hair Abaddon had worn.
Tariel eyed Arrick’s implants sceptically while the white wolf picked up a razor.
“If you refrain from cutting to the bone”, he said cautiously.
“No worries”, Arrick replied nonchalantly. “I’ll cut superficially, I promise.”
Actually, Arrick had used shaving as an exercise to get his new hands under control. First, he had shaved himself. That he wore a full beard at the moment again, was only due to the fact that Titus and Tiberius usually let him shave them since he had gotten the hang of it. He made Tariel sit down on one of the stools in the bathroom and carefully led the razor over his head.
“Hey, what about my superficial cuts?”, Tariel complained when Arrick had finished and made to put away the razor. “You promised.” He gave the captain a provocative grin.
“I cut superficially, didn’t I?”, Arrick replied calmly, rinsing the razor and there was just the slightest hint of respectful approval in Tariel’s eyes for this answer.

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Guide Me Through the Darkness by Julia M. V. Warren is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

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