Something a little silly, cute, and some relationship building.
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Third Wheel
Nightmares were familiar but often unwelcome companions that had long haunted Sachmis. They acted as constant reminders, a chilling refrain that echoed through her consciousness, urging her to remain vigilant in a galaxy where safety was an illusion. To let her guard down was to invite agony or even death, for countless opportunists would not hesitate to strike her down while she slumbered. In recent years, however, she had grown complacent, allowing her guard to waver.
Corvus was to blame for this lapse; at least, that is what Sachmis would say. Sharing her bed with him had miraculously granted her respite from the recurring dark thoughts of sleep. This dependency on his presence for peaceful sleep was a truth she found rather pathetic, in so much that she found herself so…attached to him.
Initially, it had been a pleasant discovery, an unexpected bonus to their companionship beyond their physical connection. Yet Sachmis didn't want this reliance to transform into codependence. The irony wasn't lost on her, being a Drukhari and all.
Relying on others, she knew, was a dangerous game that often led to betrayal. Love, however, complicated the matter. Especially as Corvus and Sachmis considered the other partners, maybe even friends. It's amusing to imagine. It was easier for them to fuck each other than admit to liking the other for their individual qualities.
With love and friendship came new issues. Corvus had a way of offering his assistance without solicitation, something that Sachmis wasn't entirely used to. She had to intentionally tack on conditions because she hated "owing" someone something. Yet that seemed to complicate matters, but Sachmis was trying to teach him a lesson about not doing anything for free, even for lovers.
She doubted he'd get the message. Maybe she also hoped he wouldn't. Loving a man like Corvus was difficult because he refused to act the way he
should be in his position. It was sometimes unsettling to Sachmis. This earnestness of his.
More unsettling, though, was Sachmis's growing fascination with Corvus's desires and aspirations. She was drawn to his ambitions in a curious paradox even as he restrained his true potential. The Primarch held the capacity to forge a magnificent galactic empire, yet his allegiance to "family, Emperor, and humanity" repeatedly held him in check. And for what? What did he hope to gain?
Sachmis understood firsthand the suffocating grip of duty and obligation. She had felt its constriction, its near-devastating impact, and knew that those who dictated one's actions rarely had their subjects' best interests at heart. Though unspoken, her genuine concern for Corvus was undeniable. Love made it difficult to remain indifferent to his well-being. If only he possessed the unyielding ambition to seize his desires through force.
Thankfully, Corvus was not devoid of
grand ambition. Beyond his childish desire to end slavery in the galaxy, her love dreamed of unlocking the secrets of divinity. He claimed it was all for "research" and understanding, but Sachmis knew him well enough that the Primarch wanted to expand his power and capabilities beyond what he already had.
She had already the fruits of this pursuit in the form of the Skeleton Key. A divine object made by mortal hands, with the ability to unlock or lock
anything. Such an object was the stuff of Kabals' most coveted dreams, a treasure capable of swaying the fates of worlds, yet Corvus treated it with caution bordering on disdain.
Worse, he wanted to use it to help the Asuryani and Cegorach. Corvus failed to comprehend the machinations that he and his brothers were involved in at this point. The designs of the Great Seer and Laughing God held far-reaching consequences that clashed with the imperatives of the Imperium and humanity. However, his determination to be a galactic hero, driven by his ego and regrets, clouded his judgment.
Corvus remained obstinately oblivious to these truths. Sachmis saw through his facade, aware of the dissonance he concealed. But neither wished to unravel the other, silently agreeing to preserve their relationship. It was a fragile pact, a reluctant compromise at best.
Thus, when Corvus extended an invitation to partake in a heist on Venus, Sachmis accepted. Her decision was fueled by the desire to witness him in action and see what the humans deemed a "goddess." While some might view the venture as folly or harbor skepticism, Sachmis's confidence in Corvus remained unshaken.
After all, he was the only one who could beat someone like her. That counted for something in Sachmis's book. Besides, she wouldn't let Corvus leave her behind on his eventual path to godhood, and strangely enough, that made her
enjoy being around him. Life was exciting now.
Knowing that made her dreams all the more exciting as well. The nightmares were gone. Until they weren't. What confused Sachmis was the content of them. It was not a nightmare of her youth or something yet to come but of
someone else's memories.
She was submerged in the intense currents of seething hatred and a hunger for bloodshed. She witnessed a weeping woman standing over the lifeless form of a fallen man amidst the acrid scent and taste of iron and blood. The cacophony of twisted steel reverberated in her ears as she beheld an unfathomable red haze, consumed by a maelstrom of fury. Her hands dripped with hot crimson, eliciting a mix of exhilaration and revulsion.
The nightmare stretched on, its inception and end lost in the miasma of timelessness. The past ceased to hold meaning, and her previous nightmares became the backdrop for this surreal onslaught. It felt as though everything converged into a single, overwhelming moment.
Sachmis knew genuine fear only during her days as a núromul when the beatings and abuse pushed her to the brink of death's embrace. This new nightmare, however, was boundless and voracious. Yet, credit to her resilience, she fought back—clawing, screaming, battling against the deluge of memories and horror that threatened to engulf her. She raged against the currents, resisting the suffocating grip of the past that sought to define her.
What little control she had over this event, Sachmis summoned forth a nightmare that she could control. The battle of the Night Phoenix, when she and Corvus dueled one another. It was a memory fraught with a ceaseless cycle of violence and death, a tragic repetition of swords and spite. Sometimes, she would get the killing blow; other times, it would be his win, but they both eventually perished.
The death of a nascent god and a would be-empress. A tragic end. The snuffing out of two great destinies. Paradoxically, it was also a display of the fiery grandeur of such a battle, an epic end that would be the envy of history, carried across the void by myth and legend, stories and fables, remembered only in the hearts and souls of pirates, voidborn, and poets.
Even after her burgeoning affection for the Primarch, Sachmis acknowledged that this nightmare's horror was, in its own perverse way, a befitting metaphor for their relationship toward one another. She found that hatred and love were often different sides of the same coin. If nothing else, the feeling of mutual respect was there.
It was in this nightmare-turned-fantasy that Sachmis found grounding. She could center herself and understand this was just a revision of her memories. Knowing this gave her the ability to eventually start fighting back. Because she would not be a slave to anyone or anything save her ambitions and passions.
And that was when Sachmis heard a voice.
"Ah, such fire and determination. I'm happy to see my Little Idol has persisted through all this. You are going to make this era so exciting for me!"
The voice was unfamiliar. Playful but dripping with power. It made Sachmis think of blood on the wind, fire in her gut, hearts beating in tandem, and the roaring sea. Like post-victory sex and drinking, fucking under the night sky, and laughing with a lover in bed. Such a strange but familiar congregation of emotions.
Sachmis did not feel immediate gratitude, though. Perhaps this is just some sort of psychosis or insanity brought about by this seemingly endless repetition of nightmares. Maybe a daemon was gnawing at her mind, giving the false pretense of hope. If anything, Sachmis was disappointed that Corvus hadn't been the one to speak to her. Didn't humans love playing the part of heroes?
Her feelings changed when the nightmares did indeed stop, but were soon replaced with unfamiliar and even seemingly out-of-place dreams or maybe even memories? At one point, Sachmis found herself in the middle of a great celebration, surrounded by humans and in a decedingly primitive environment. At least they seemed to be worshipping her, so that was a nice change of pace.
What confused Sachmis was that she felt her perspective shift and was in another celebration. Then another and another, and for a moment, Sachmis could not tell when and where these events were happening. Time held no meaning, and she had no idea of past human cultures, leaving her to witness a thousand celebrations occurring all seemingly at once.
She was starting to miss the nightmares because at least they were cohesive. All Sachmis could tell now was that she was the idol of worship in each instance. These humans bowed before her, sang praises in her name, and called upon her to bring glory, salvation, vengeance, bounty, and hope.
These prayers empowered
and chained her. Sachmis was a goddess with all the rights and powers that came with such a position, but she could feel her freedom slowly erode as the mantle of responsibility grew heavier with each passing millenni. There was still joy, but she now understood divinity wasn't all fun and games.
But why show her this? What was the lesson to learn? And why should Sachmis even
care?
What was godhood if not another tool for one's ambition? Corvus had shown her that divinity can be used by mortals. If anything, becoming a goddess would be only the first step in a much grander purpose for Sachmis. These dreams celebrated someone who sought to control only a tiny sliver of the galaxy.
Sachmis might not have wanted to rule over everything, but she'd be content with ten thousand sectors worth of followers and a nation that would someday do great things in her name. Just something to leave to the family. Wasn't that the point after all? To leave a legacy.
Left with such thoughts, Sachmis felt a warmth spreading across her body and soul. The familiar sensation of passion and war, of sea and stars, drifted to the front of her mind. Simultaneously, Sachmis dreamed of an everlasting empire built by her will. The nightmares had
finally concluded, replaced by the visions of tomorrow.
Sachmis awoke with the
mother of all headaches. Her thoughts were groggy, and her body was sluggish. It felt like she had been asleep for ages. Must have had too much to drink with Corvus. Keeping up with a Primarch when matching him to get drunk was a pain.
Thank the gods, the lights were out. She was in her room because the pillows and sheets were of the finest quality. Sachmis only got blackout drunk if it meant she wasn't at risk for assassins, which meant her personal chambers. That was another nice thing about Corvus; she knew he was safe to be around and could protect her.
Not that Sachmis would admit that to him. Blasted codependence. That was farthest from her mind, though. All she wanted was to stop the knife-piercing pain in her head. Sachmis groaned and covered her head with a pillow.
What happened last night? Sachmis felt like something was off. Had she gotten that drunk to not even recall what she had been doing? It was difficult to remember anything in this particularly painful moment. A glass of watered-down wine would be good right about now.
As if answering her prayers, Sachmis heard something placed right next to her bedside. A small smile graced her lips. Corvus, ever the sweetheart, already knew what to do here. Removing the pillow from her beautiful face, Sachmis sat up and reached for the glass.
"Ugh…" Sachmis, striving to maintain her characteristic grace, suppressed the instinctive groan that slipped from her lips. "Thank you, love," she managed to convey to Corvus as she took a sip. After this, she'd need to seek out her usual hangover cure.
However, the following response wasn't Corvus's familiar voice but an unfamiliar woman's. "Of course, my Little Idol," the voice chimed in. Sachmis practically choked on her drink in shock. Who in the world was in the room with her? Before she could answer, the figure switched on the lights, temporarily blinding the Pirate Queen, who was still battling the remnants of her hangover.
Amidst hacking coughs and the sudden glare, the strange woman casually took a seat next to Sachmis, displaying a lack of concern for personal space that was somewhat unsettling.
"Easy now, love," a gentle, teasing voice with the soothing qualities of lapping waves admonished Sachmis with an oddly familial concern. Despite the unexpected proximity and gentleness, Sachmis managed to suppress any comfort that might have welled up, swiftly replacing it with anger.
In her frustration, she shattered the glass in her hand, turning it into a jagged weapon aimed at the figure. However, before Sachmis could make her move, the mysterious woman caught her hand and disarmed her effortlessly. Not one to be deterred, Sachmis deployed a concealed wrist knife, but even this deadly strike failed to find its mark, let alone inflict a wound.
Deciding to pounce and grapple with this decidedly dangerous foe, Sachmis couldn't help but simmer with rage as the woman responded with laughter. However, it was an unusual laughter, not one of dismissal but rather reminiscent of the laugh she shared with Corvus during their more intimate moments.
It was getting harder to focus on her anger. It made Sachmis feel like a grynix play fighting with her owner, which caused lingering memories of resentment and humiliation to resurface, giving her fury a second wind as she tried to jab out her assailant's eyes.
In that brief moment, Sachmis finally looked at her attacker's face. She stared at a being resembling a blend of human and Aeldari features amalgamated into an eerie hybrid. This woman possessed breathtaking beauty yet had an otherworldly and unsettling quality akin to an exquisitely crafted living doll.
However, the woman's eyes were the most captivating, if not unsettling. Sachmis struggled to find the right words to describe them at that moment. The eyes were a mesmerizing swirl of royal purple and sapphire blue, like two endless pools of the sea. They exuded an extraordinary beauty, power, and command that entranced Sachmis and made her uneasy.
Rather than seizing the opportunity presented by Sachmis's momentary hesitation, the woman giggled and delicately brushed her fingers against Sachmis's cheek. "Ah, there's the fiery passion I hoped to see – that eagerness for bloodshed that helps define you. I must admit, I envy Corvus for having it all to himself."
Sachmis felt so confused now. Her anger left her, leaving only the headache, causing her to feel dizzy. "Who the…who are you?" What was going on here?
The woman responded with a serene smile. "You already know who I am," she said calmly, slowly repositioning herself into a seated posture, an action that Sachmis could do little more than permit to happen. "But first, can you recall what you did before this encounter?"
The memories gradually resurfaced through the haze. Sachmis fought against the pain in her head to piece together the fragmented recollections. "I was with Corvus," she began, her voice quivering with uncertainty. "We were preparing for a heist, searching for a Shard of Khaine. The Asuryani were assisting him, and Corvus asked for my help."
The recollections flowed more freely now as she remembered the unfamiliar voice, the soothing sounds of an ocean, and the visceral clash of bloodied blades. "We ventured into a vault," Sachmis continued, her expression clouded by foreboding. "And then... I felt a presence infiltrating my mind."
The puzzle pieces clicked into place, and Sachmis regarded Venus with a conflicted gaze. "And we encountered you... Venus." The name came easily now. A human goddess. Yet she had Aeldari features; the how and why still eluded Sachmis.
A bright, genuine smile lit up Venus's features as she reached out and enveloped Sachmis in an unexpected embrace. Sachmis, overwhelmed by the situation, could only allow it to happen momentarily before breaking free, her face flushed with embarrassment and befuddlement.
Because a goddess was hugging her, more than that, she seemed quite friendly to someone who just tried to stab her with a broken glass a minute ago. Venus had even called Sachmis her "Little Idol," whatever that meant. Also, why was this goddess in her room?
"I think I need to lie back down…"
Three months later…
When the news finally reached Corvus that Sachmis had awakened, it took all his self-control not to drop everything and run off to see her. Instances like this reminded him that his affection and desire for his Drukhari lover were starting to influence his decision-making slightly more than Corvus would have liked. But what was a man to do?
The two of them would need to recognize that their ambitions and obligations, besides distance issues, put additional strain and complexity on their relationship. Roboute had confided in Corvus about the similar tensions in his relationship with Yvraine, and Corvus couldn't help but see a common thread among many humans who had loved ones in distant places. The Primarch found it almost amusing to ponder how such a conundrum had entered his life.
Corvus's ability to traverse the Webway allowed him to condense what would have been a two-month journey into a mere three weeks. The Black Library had been vigilantly monitoring Sachmis, enabling Corvus to locate the Night Phoenix with unprecedented speed. The ship lingered near Aeldari harbors, patiently awaiting its captain's awakening.
Sachmis had been conscious for months, undoubtedly eager to resume her duties, yet she had patiently awaited Corvus's arrival, her message conveying a sense of urgency. As soon as an opportunity to depart presented itself, Corvus seized it without hesitation.
Upon finally arriving at the Night Phoenix, Corvus found himself striding purposefully onto the Dark Eldar vessel, meeting no resistance from the crew. It was as though they understood that his presence wasn't solely for conducting business with their captain; his visit had a deeper, more personal purpose.
Stranger still was the aura aboard the ship. Previously, the Night Phoenix had exuded an unfamiliar sense of dread and violence reminiscent of the Ashen City. However, it had now transformed into something akin to an "old-fashioned" warship. Corvus could swear he heard the sounds of the ocean and what he could only assume were Aeldari war shanties.
The unusual atmosphere aboard the Night Phoenix was undoubtedly the work of Venus. Whether this transformation was intentional or a consequence of her divine presence was yet to be fully understood and documented. Corvus was eager to investigate further, particularly to explore the effects of proximity to a divine entity on both the ship and its crew, but he decided to postpone such inquiries for later.
As he ventured deeper into the vessel, Corvus expected to be met by Sachmis. He had anticipated that she might express various emotions, from anger over the recent events to eagerness to resume their usual activities. Her personal guards offered no resistance to his presence as he entered the outer section of the captain's quarters, and Corvus dispensed with the formalities of knocking or announcing himself. He was keen to test whether Sachmis remained as vigilant as ever.
However, what Corvus encountered was beyond his expectations. Inside Sachmis's quarters, he found her engaged in a conversation with Venus. To be more precise, it appeared that the goddess was doing most of the talking while Sachmis listened intently. For a fleeting moment, Corvus observed an expression on Sachmis's face that mirrored the one he had seen on his brothers during meetings or discussions they would have rather avoided.
That wasn't a good sign.
Seeing Sachmis, Corvus felt a surge of joy that mirrored the elation he saw in her eyes. It was as if a great weight had been lifted, and the trials and tribulations of the Second Heist now felt less burdensome. At that moment, Corvus knew that Sachmis had survived and had come through it.
Venus, too, appeared content. She acknowledged Corvus's presence with a warm greeting. Her appearance remained as striking as ever, though now she became a human with amber skin, green eyes, and flowing black hair. She was adorned in an elegant Aeldari dress in shades of purple and gold and, curiously, carried a pair of intricately crafted wraithbone daggers at her side.
"Ah, he finally arrives." Venus had a teasing grin, "But I can tell he made his way here with quite a bit of expediency in his steps."
Sachmis seemed to ignore the goddess as she approached Corvus, "Good to see you."
Corvus's smile was small but genuine, "I can say the same thing. Though you seem no worse for wear."
"You'd be surprised at how stiff I was for the first few weeks. Thankfully, my species physiology is quick to return to form. I don't need to go through what you call 'physical therapy' to get me back into fighting shape." Sachmis gave Corvus a small but noticeable grin, "Granted, I can still use a bit of stretching if you want to help."
Her innuendos were a lot easier for Corvus to identify now, which made it difficult to not feel a bit embarrassed at the flirting, even after all this time. At least she was being subtle here and not vulgar. Venus, however, giggled at the exchange, which caused Sachmis to lose her smirk.
The goddess looked amusingly at Corvus, "Should I leave the room for you two?"
Before Corvus could respond, Sachmis glared at Venus, "Yes! I want to spend time with him, alone." The Pirate Queen didn't even try to hide what she wanted, "We'll be busy for the next day or so." Not that the Primarch had a say in this. When Sachmis wanted to spend time with him, they would do so whether Corvus wanted to. He keenly remembered reading a few jokes in stories about men not having much choice if their wives or lovers wanted to do something. If this was pathetic or not of him, the Primarch did not know. Still, to deny the chance for
intimate companionship was not only foolish and counterproductive, it would be disheartening.
Because Corvus
did want to spend the day with Sachmis. So he kept his mouth shut and waited for the goddess to leave the pair to their fun. Unfortunately, Venus didn't seem quick to leave as she kept smiling.
"Are you sure? We were having such an interesting conversation just now. I'm sure Corvus would be eager to hear it as well…" The Primarch was quite surprised when he saw Sachmis start to blush and growl at the goddess.
His lover pointed to the door with a mixture of frustration and embarrassment. "Out!" Sachmis spoke with a tone that one might use with an overbearing family member. Venus simply chuckled and phased out of existence, leaving the two alone. Sachmis seemed to sigh with relief as she did so.
Corvus found it cute, "It seems that I arrived at a good time. Don't tell me you've been having issues with Venus?"
Sachmis only sighed before she brazenly
jumped at him, wrapping her arms around his neck before deeply kissing him, "Forget about her. Just get undressed and in my bed." Corvus was so taken aback by the lack of subtly and foreplay that he started to laugh.
"You don't want to get drunk first?" The two had such a bad habit before sex. That Sachmis had wanted to introduce narcotics into the mix was a line that Corvus refused to cross, but he accepted getting drunk.
His lover sighed before releasing her embrace and sliding back to her feet, "I
truly desire to lay with you more than that, which should tell you how much I want to get started." Sachmis seemed almost frustrated with this situation. "That stupid goddess has been…influencing me." She seemed quite embarrassed and refused to explain further. It took Corvus a few seconds to consider the possibilities, and then he frowned.
Corvus's concern deepened as he watched Sachmis's frustration and embarrassment. "Has she been manipulating your body or soul in some way?" He wanted to understand if Venus was altering Sachmis's desires or responses that didn't align with her true feelings.
Sachmis hesitated for a moment, her gaze fixed on Corvus. "I can't say for sure," she admitted, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "But it's as if she's... amplifying certain desires and emotions and making them more urgent and overpowering. It's difficult to describe. When I bring this up to her, she seems to take it at least seriously enough to tone them down." Sachmis didn't seem so keen on talking about this. Her vulnerability was apparent in her eyes as she spoke with a bit of anger. "I know she has a hand in it, and I bet she gets some amusement from it as well."
Corvus was still visibly unhappy, "I'm going to talk to Venus about this…"
"Don't." The urgency in her voice surprised him, "Please, just let me handle it. Getting you wrapped up in our…
relationship won't do us any favors." Sachmis tried not to look the Primarch in the eye. "Especially once she gets the teasing going."
"Teasing?" Corvus assumed something more nefarious was at play, "What exactly have you two been doing this entire time?"
Rather than answer, Sachmis exaggeratedly groaned and rubbed her eyes, "Nothing I'd care to repeat right now. Can we…have this conversation later?" Rare was it for Sachmis to back down from a topic. However, Corvus suspected that she just wanted things to return to normal as best they could.
"I do have some questions, you know?" Corvus remarked as he lowered himself to get a better look at her. "But that will be for later." He leaned forward and kissed her. "Because I missed you, love."
Sachmis seemed to melt into the kiss, gladly and happily embracing the Primarch. It was a small moment when the two realized the other was alive and truly well. Once that passed, she gestured for Corvus to follow her to the bed chambers. They had a long night ahead of them.
It didn't need to be said. Yet Sachmis would say it anyway. She
enjoyed having sex with Corvus immensely. The idea that she might have felt any shame was laughable. If anything, this might have been one of her greatest achievements. What made it all the more delightful was how happy Sachmis felt with Corvus.
Their intimate encounters were unlike anything Sachmis had experienced before. The passion and depth of their connection left her wondering if it was a unique trait of Primarchs, something that made them irresistibly drawn to passionate experiences. Regardless of the reason, Sachmis was determined to solidify her position as Corvus's one true love.
She contemplated the uncertain future, one that stretched across countless years. The thought of potential rivals vying for Corvus's affection unsettled her. Sachmis was resolute in her desire to ensure that Corvus remained exclusively hers, bound by a love that transcended time.
The prospect of competition, particularly if she knew the individuals involved, would make things complicated and undesirable. Knowing Corvus, he would be unable to recognize another woman being infatuated with him. That was the problem with most men, especially those in love; they became blind to other predators. Not that it mattered. Sachmis was prepared to take whatever measures necessary to eliminate any threats to her place in Corvus's heart, even if it meant gaining his ire.
Unfortunately, Sachmis had to contend with Venus. A goddess of Love and War. Who was half-Aeldari and seemed unequivocally infatuated with Sachmis
and Corvus, though not in the same capacity. The whole situation was confusing because Venus had these designs to be her…friend? Quasi-lover? Ally? Family?
However, her most significant challenge came from Venus, a deity of Love and War with a mysterious half-Aeldari nature. Venus's affections for Sachmis and Corvus were undeniable, though they existed in distinct capacities. The entire situation was bewildering, as Venus seemed to desire some form of relationship, whether it be friendship, quasi-lover, ally, or even family.
Sachmis had spent three frustrating months attempting every tactic imaginable to extract answers from Venus. She had resorted to threats, seduction, and bribery, yet the goddess seemed impervious, including the threats. To add to her vexation, Venus appeared to possess an uncanny knowledge of Sachmis's deepest secrets, something she had believed to be securely locked away.
Venus, however, insisted that Sachmis was safe with her and that she would never harm her "Little Idol," a pet name that grated on Sachmis's nerves with each utterance because she didn't know if it was being used to mock or praise her. Regardless, it made her feel like a child or animal getting praised. Beyond that, the goddess's demeanor only added to the mounting frustration Sachmis felt when dealing with her.
What truly unnerved Sachmis were the changes she sensed within her own body, most of which were beyond her control and appeared to be influenced by Venus, albeit unintentionally. The prospect of such alterations, especially for an Aeldari, was deeply unsettling, hinting at something more sinister.
Because it felt
good when it happened. Sachmis couldn't deny that she noticed how ecstatic she became when her desires were amplified. It wasn't the corrupting influence of She Who Thirsts that she had heard of among the Drukhari, but rather, it felt like someone had flipped a switch, unleashing a potent surge of invigoration and power within her. This newfound intensity sometimes verged on the delusional, leaving Sachmis grappling with her desires in ways she had never experienced before.
Sachmis's desires took on multifaceted forms, from dreams of a grand empire under her rule to yearnings for triumphant victories and an enduring legacy that would shine across the stars. These ambitions were not uncommon among her kind. However, as her desires grew more complex, so did their expression.
There were moments when Sachmis felt an intense, almost fiery craving within her body that only Corvus could quench. An unspoken connection bound them, and their shared experiences during the Void War had intensified this need.
Simultaneously, the urge to transition into a different phase of life began to take root within Sachmis. Beyond the allure of creating a more enduring and profound legacy, she began to envision a future where she and Corvus were not just partners but also husband and wife. Her dreams even extended to the possibility of starting a family together. However, these were not instincts born of some doe-eyed woman.
Sachmis harbored a new aspiration—to ascend to godhood alongside Corvus or, failing that, to give birth to a deity herself. It was a grand and ambitious vision, one in which she saw herself crowned as empress and the divine mother of a god. A drive fueled by war and love, by power and desire.
Venus must have been aware of Sachmis's evolving desires and ambitions because the goddess had once embraced her, holding her like a proud teacher, mother, or friend. She whispered cryptic words into Sachmis's ear in an unknown language, and an unfamiliar power surged through her body. A blessing, although at the time, Sachmis couldn't comprehend the nature of this blessing, but it would become clear much later that it had left its mark on her soul, though its true purpose remained in mystery.
That was the problem with this situation. Everything remained a mystery, and it angered Sachmis to no end. Venus must have had an agenda. While the goddess had mentioned plans to start a few wars and spread her faith, Sachmis couldn't help but suspect that there was more to her designs than met the eye. The uncertainty gnawed at her. Hence, she was so grateful when Corvus finally arrived.
Sachmis yearned for Corvus in every way possible—his touch, taste, warmth, and the sensory delights he brought. When the chance to indulge in these desires arose, she seized it greedily. Their codependency was undoubtedly dangerous, but such concerns seemed insignificant in the throes of their passionate connection. In that moment, the allure of living life to the fullest, even with risks, was far more appealing than the alternative. Sachmis wanted him, and that was all that mattered.
Unfortunately, someone else seemed eager to see Sachmis enjoying herself. Around the fourth or fifth hour, an unsettling sensation of being watched began to creep over her. At first, she tried to ignore it, fully immersing herself in the intimacy she shared with Corvus. However, this feeling grew undeniable as she heard faint giggles and hushed expressions of admiration from some obscure corner of the room.
"What the…?" Sachmis's furious voice cut through the air as realization struck her like a lightning bolt. "Are you serious right now?!"
Corvus, who had been wholly engrossed in their shared moments of intimacy, abruptly halted, his expression shifting to one of concern. "What is it? Is something wrong?" he inquired, his gaze following Sachmis's intense glare directed at an empty chair in the room.
She ignored him to instead spat at the empty chair, "Are you actually watching us have sex?! Do you have no shame?!" Sachmis's voice dripped with anger as she snatched a knife from somewhere in the room, her movements as fluid and precise as a seasoned grandmaster. With a deft throw, the blade sliced through the air with deadly grace, heading straight for its target. Corvus watched as the projectile came to an abrupt halt mid-flight, hovering inexplicably in mid-air. Then, a familiar figure shimmered into existence, seated casually in the chair.
His surprise overtaking him, Corvus let out an undignified yelp before hurriedly concealing himself beneath a nearby blanket. "Venus?! What in the hells?!" he exclaimed, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment at the unexpected intrusion.
Unfazed by the situation, Venus pouted playfully as she plucked the suspended knife from the air by its handle. "Oh, that's unnecessary," she mused, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I was merely admiring a work of art. Please, continue as if I'm not here," she added with a wicked grin, gesturing with her hand for them to proceed.
Sachmis, though her initial anger had waned, still wore an unamused expression as she muttered under her breath, "By Khaine's Blood, Venus! What sort of voyeuristic god are you?"
Corvus nodded, "This is incredibly inappropriate."
Venus, however, remained unfazed by their objections. She waved them off with a playful air. "Nonsense," she responded, that same wicked grin still present. "Gods love watching our champions and idols enjoying each other's bodies. I dare say plenty of mortals do as well. Besides, it's not like I'm asking to share the bed with you two."
Sachmis's growl of disapproval didn't deter Venus, who seemed to take delight in provoking her. "As if I'd let you," Sachmis retorted sharply.
Venus giggled at Sachmis's reaction, seemingly enjoying the exchange. "You have nothing to fear, love," she assured Sachmis with a wink. "Corvus is too subtle for me, and he's your man. I don't want to be a third wheel here. Besides, I have more interest in his brothers as bedroom partners." The mention of Corvus's brothers left the Primarch momentarily flustered and at a loss for words.
Sachmis, feeling like her idyllic moment had been thoroughly disrupted by Venus's presence and provocations, couldn't contain her frustration any longer. "Get out, Venus!" she demanded sharply.
Venus, however, seemed determined to push Sachmis's buttons further. She wore a tantalizing smirk as she turned her attention to Corvus. "Say, while I have your attention," she began, her voice filled with mischief, "can you do a mating press on her? She likes it when you're rough." Sachmis felt like her face was on fire with embarrassment, while Corvus remained silent despite this provocative suggestion.
Feeling like the situation had been taken a bit too far and that her intimate moment with Corvus had been thoroughly disrupted, Sachmis glared at Venus. "Out. Now," she commanded with a tone of finality.
As if sensing that she had crossed a line, Venus frowned and attempted to downplay the situation. "Oh, don't be like that, love," she protested, "it was just a little joke between the three of us."
Sachmis remained resolute, her demand unwavering. "Out," she repeated firmly. With a resigned sigh, the goddess of love and war nodded and disappeared again, leaving Sachmis and Corvus alone.
After a moment of silence following Venus's departure, Corvus spoke cautiously, sensing the tension in the room. "Maybe I should speak with her later," he suggested, concerned about the relationship between Sachmis and the goddess.
Sachmis's response was flat and resolute. "No, I'm going to do that," she asserted. Perhaps she had given the goddess too much leeway or assumed she understood Venus well enough to recognize and respect Sachmis's boundaries.
Corvus nodded in understanding. "If you say so," he replied, "I just don't want the two of you to be on bad terms."
Sachmis's laughter filled the room as she responded, "Something tells me that even if I went off on her, she wouldn't understand what she did was wrong. Better to just explain to her not to do that again and leave it be."
Corvus looked at her, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "That's both very insightful and mature of you, Sachmis," he commented.
She felt a touch insulted. "Why are you acting so surprised? I can be both whenever the situation calls for it."
Corvus chuckled. "Yes, but not to another person who isn't me," he teased. "I dare say that a few years ago, you'd have been quicker to swear a vendetta against her."
Sachmis smirked, retorting, "I threw a knife at her."
Corvus chuckled, his laughter blending with Sachmis's. "I guess we can call that an improvement," he agreed, his eyes filled with warmth. He reached forward and gently took her hand. "Now, do you want to stop or-"
But Sachmis didn't let him finish. She leaned in, capturing his lips with her own, her desire to continue their intimate moment evident in the passionate embrace. The interruption might have been frustrating, but she was determined not to let anything come between her and the man she loved. Not even a meddling goddess would deter her from enjoying this precious time with Corvus.
Venus smirked from within the veil of the warp as she continued watching her two most precious people enjoying each other's company. It was so easy to get Sachmis riled up, but she at least restrained herself. The knife toss was an act of passion, nothing more and less.
While Venus wouldn't call this whole thing a test, the goddess wanted to see how Sachmis reacted to her influence. So far, it seemed that her Little Idol was in control. That would change in time, however. The price for power often came in different forms or costs. If she could not handle the changes given to her by someone who genuinely cared for her wellbeing, then Sachmis would find herself in dangerous circumstances in the future.
For now, she would continue to observe Sachmis. There was still much for her to learn, and her growth depended on what she desired most to accomplish. Meanwhile, Venus needed to figure out how to speed up her relationship with Corvus. That damn Aeldari perception of time made it so that Sachmis would have waited a few centuries before even considering marrying the Primarch, which was unacceptable.
After all, Venus
did have an agenda in mind. Sachmis was key to it. So, while she had to play the part of the third wheel in their relationship, the Goddess of Love and War would simply bide her time until it was most appropriate to render additional aid. But until then, there was no harm in playing with Sachmis and Corvus, at least for a little longer.
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@Daemon Hunter Alright, here you go.
