Chapter Text
He had been taken from his place among the other prisoners, cleaned, and healed. The cultists who bathed him had given him a white loin cloth. Although they had provided no other cover, the loin cloth in itself was an unexpected mercy.
They fit heavy golden chains across his arms and legs and left his wings unbound. The strength of gold was nothing to the strength of a primarch. Horus may as well have dressed him in tissue paper and told him to keep it from tearing. He held as still as he could while he waited, careful not to stretch the soft metal. The chains were tight enough that to stand without disturbing them, he was obliged to keep his hands close together and bow his head.
He heard the clank of the door behind him, heard the hateful familiar footstep. He kept his head down.
Horus put a heavy, ungloved hand on his naked shoulder. His breath stilled for a moment, but he didn't flinch.
"I've missed you, little brother." His voice was fond and soft. Sanguinius made no reply.
He felt Horus's breath on the feathers of his wings, and he wrapped them closer around him, hiding his gaze inside.
The hand reached up to play and tangle in his curls.
"You have fine sons," Horus said. "Gallant warriors. Like their father."
"Don't hurt them," Sanguinius begged in a hoarse whisper. "Please, don't hurt them."
"Sanguinius." Horus's tone was firm but kind. He reached past his tightly curled wings and lifted up his chin to meet his eyes. "Little brother, I don't mean to harm them. I am hardly in a position to throw away good astartes."
Tears leaked from the corners of Sanguinius's eyes. His breath came fast and shallow.
Horus continued. "Your Blood Angels nearly had my armies many times over. I'm not too proud to admit it. A few different rolls of the dice, and who can say but that we might be having a very different conversation right now, hm? I won't begrudge them a little difference of opinion. On the contrary, their loyalty to their former master does you credit. But now the matter's been settled, and it's time to regather our forces in defense of humanity. I ask your aid now, as I've asked it many times before."
He took Sanguinius in a close embrace and whispered in his ear. "Be a good boy for me, little brother?" he asked. "Bring your pretty angels to be once more my sword and shield, to crush the enemies of Man between their mighty jaws. Be once more my general. Kneel at my side, and be forgiven."
A long silence stretched between them. Sanguinius did not say no.