Chapter Text
Finally, finally, it felt like the world was no longer burning around me.
“Your name, for the record.”
This new voice, deeper, one she recognized well enough to let herself relax just a tad; the concern buried in his tone barely concealed but only notable to her.
“Imogene.”
Throat dry, each muscle in her body clearly ached beneath the damnable overhead light that burned into her sealed sockets.
“Your full name, please.”
‘Please’, as if she had a choice in the matter, as if relief would come in the form of death if she just said her name.
“Imogene Reyniel el Zuhrai.”
“Do you know where you are, Imogene?”
“An Inquisition Black-ship belonging to Lord Inquisitor Calcazar, somewhere in the Warp outside of airspace between Askelphion Secundus and the Koronus Expanse.”
“That is quite right, what a very good girl, excellent senses. Why don’t we look to ease some of your current discomfort, hm?”
Imogene could only make out shadows behind her sewn eyelids, a sadistic present from her previous torturer under the guise of strengthening her psykana, but she could feel a slight disturbance in the Immaterium that confirmed the identity of the man speaking to her. How she had not sensed this during their first dance, she did not know. Had she truly been so swept up in the romance and adventure of it all that she’d forgotten her keen perception at the door?None of it mattered now. Not since Hemlock had escorted her to the ship, not since Heinrix had lingered behind to speak with her parents and assuage their fears for her safety — for she had a higher calling, did she not?
With a distant click, the overwhelming illumination finally ceased, and as if a weight had been physically lifted from her chest she could breathe again. Gentle yet calloused fingers took her chin in hand, turning her head this way and that as her new tormentor tsk’d his disapproval at her current state. His warmth felt pleasant against her chilled skin, and she found herself seeking his touch, just grateful to experience anything other than pain after so many days of rough treatment. Despite her continued blindness, she could still smell him, could nearly taste him on her tongue; a soothing mix of lho and charcoal, dashed with copper and ink. The same scent that had followed her dreams for years now, that had permeated the coat he’d sent her one winter, and it was nice to smell something besides herself and the ozone that filled the damp compartment.
“Who sewed these beautiful eyes shut, my sweet Imogene?” Xavier questioned — whoever else had been in the room must have departed because his voice dropped to a soothing whisper against her temple.
“Her name eludes me if it was ever spoken at all, but her smell… elder flowers, iron, a touch of ash, it lingers,” Imogene murmured, her lips cracked and her mouth dry from hours without water.
“Tanakia? Hm. She will be dealt with for harming such a pretty thing, I assure you,” He hummed in response, presumably holding a cup to her lips as she felt the cool liquid spill onto her tongue, refreshing and necessary, but he only allowed her a few sips before returning it to it’s place beside him.
“As if you don’t intend to harm me, Lord Inquisitor?” Despite her outer-calm, Xavier could feel her heartbeat race as his non-gloved hand traced up her throat to card through her sweat-soaked ebony locks, his thumb brushing over her temple as he pressed a kiss to her cheekbone.
“It is not an act I will delight in,” Imogene could hear him searching for something on the metal surface beside her, his hand firmly in her hair to keep her upright. “But, it is in the best interest of the Imperium that you have a rigid control over your abilities. Let it bring you peace that when this is all over, you will be free.”
“Free? You call this free?” The young woman asked with a petulant snort, harnessing bravery she hadn’t realized she had in the face of her love and devotion. “Would the God-Emperor truly wish such torment on His Children?”
Her very first blaspheme, and Xavier couldn’t hide the low chuckle that escaped him as he pressed a kiss to her temple before brushing his lips against her forehead. Taking her hands in his, he rubbed over her knuckles as he contemplated his next words, but when he moved to restrain her wrists against the table she realized quickly that he’d found exactly what he was looking for on that table. Without fighting him, she laid her head back against the chair she found herself strapped into and kept her breathing even, remembering every lesson her mother had taught her to remain calm.
“I am sorry, Imogene, for we have all suffered under His Light — you however will be rewarded generously for yours, this I swear to you,” He murmured, his tone that of a lover even as she felt the sharp of a blade carve into her upper arm.
Imogene Reyniel el Zuhrai did not scream, did not whimper, did not waver.
Not when Xavier cut along her upper arm with the finest point of the blade, her blood flowing freely as he carved intricate rune-work into the expanse of her flesh.
Not when he started a new one, this one on the inside of her wrist, carving down across her palm and down her fingers, new patterns etched with every pass along her lifeline.
Not when an overwhelming force of psi-energy imploded behind her eyes as he finished her first arm and began wiping it down with a cloth, her only sign of discomfort being the tightness of her clenched jaw.
Intense, burning agony sung in her veins, but she did not flinch from him, maintaining a neutral expression after so much practice with the other members of the Inquisition that had come to visit over the course of what she assumed was a week. Where Tanakia, as she now knew, had beaten her till she couldn’t lift her head, spitting insult after insult at her for her weakness as she bled and choked on her own bile, Emelina had tried and failed to break her mind with her connection to the ruinous powers and various tinctures, a failure that Imogene was sure stung given the woman’s impatience. It was ultimately Interrogator Van Calox who broke her completely, for he showed her a mercy that none else had dared, had padded her wounds with warm, wet cloth, and used his biomancy to heal the damage to her ribs and face; only then had she allowed herself to cry, and his leather gloves had cupped her face to wipe each tear away as he whispered sweet comforts to her. His gentle touch lingered on her cheeks, her neck, her ribs and with it had come relief — relief that Xavier now squandered in the name of the Imperium.
If only His Mercy could be extended to her now.
“Chaos’ influence will never touch you, these will keep you safe from such an end,” Xavier murmured as her thoughts returned to the present; he’d finished cleaning up her arm, gently rinsing the blood from her skin and sewing where he’d cut too deep.
“They won’t keep me safe from you, will they?” Imogene almost sounded bored, but her voice wavered anyway.
“Not from me, no, but I truly hope that with time you will forgive me for these transgressions,” He took her uninjured hand in his, bringing her knuckles to his lips for a sweet kiss that normally would’ve warmed her cheeks if not for the lack of fire within her. “These will be far more intricate than the first set, but they will not hurt as much. Would you like to watch, my sweet?”
“… Yes,” She choked out, confused by the rising panic in her soul as the runes began to take effect — just what had he done to her?
“Then relax, beautiful girl, trust in Him, trust in me.”
The Lord Inquisitor’s hands rose to her face then, cupping her cheeks briefly before one of them departed to pick some other utensil off the table beside them. Imogene could hear him searching for it, which meant his focus was locked on her face, and for his comfort she tried to put on a small smile, her lips cracking in the process. His soft chuckle was a reward as the cool edge of something serrated pressed against the lower part of her eye socket, snipping the chords that blinded her with all the carefulness of a devoted husband attending his wife on their wedding night. She vaguely heard him wet a cloth, similar to how Heinrix had, and the minute splash of water in the basin helped her reorient herself with the room around her. Xavier lightly pressed the cool cloth to her socket, earning a soft hiss from Imogene, but it cooled the burn as he started to remove the fine threads that had been sewn into her cheek. Once he had finished, she slowly blinked her eyes open to the dim lighting that surrounded them, only to be surprised by his close proximity; barely a breath apart, she could see into the depths of his woodsy eyes and the tenderness there drew a small whimper from her.
“How is that?” He cooed, his eyes kind despite the pulsating pain of her wounds.
“Better… thank you, Lord Inquisitor,” His tense, furrowed brow was not lost on her, it seemed he didn’t quite like hearing his title from her, but there was a deeper understanding there as well — and if she looked closely enough, it resembled guilt.
“Xavier, if it pleases you. Now lie back,” Once she had done what she was told, he caressed her non-eyed cheek with his thumb before reaching into his uniform for something. “Do me one small favor — open your mouth.”
Obedient, either out of fear or blatant curiosity, Imogene did as she was bid once more and was swiftly rewarded with the smooth metal of his rosette sliding against her tongue. His large fingers curled around the back of her neck as he slowly thrust it into her mouth, in and out with each ragged breath he took, and her half-lidded eyes could only watch, a youthful embarrassment coating her cheeks as she started to salivate around the intrusion. A shallow warmth spread between her thighs as he reached up with his free hand to brush his gloved thumb over her straining nipple, and as his thrusts slowed he ensured the sign of his status remained between her parched lips, careful to let the chain dangle between her breasts as his now free hand moved to pick up his blade once more.
Releasing her nipple, he coughed to clear his throat and looked away with a slight redness around his ears, but it was the blade that had her attention; a ceremonial thing, archaic by her estimate, and she would have asked him questions if not for the way it gleamed in response to the runes he’d already carved into her arm. When their eyes met again, she tried to convey her curiosity with her eyes, but he only passed his hand over her hair in a feeble attempt to comfort her.
“Lay still, Imogene, and suckle on that, all will be alright,” Xavier murmured, leaning forward to kiss the corner of her mouth as he picked up a syringe and pierced her skin with the fine-point needle, liquid fire running through her veins before a strange, eerie calm settled over her; her lips numb and her tongue heavy. “We are almost finished… just relax…”
The cuts this time were not as deep, Xavier’s hand more practiced now that he’d done the other arm, but each time she whimpered he would hush her with a soothing kiss to her now sweating temple, tugging on the chain that hung from her lips as a reminder of his devotion — he did not stop, however. Each completed rune inspired a violent spasm in Imogene, but the clamps on her wrists prevented her from thrashing about or maiming him like she desperately wished to for causing her so much pain. Tears ran freely down her cheeks, bloodied and wet, which he was quick to brush away with his thumbs, but the combination of blood loss and the injection from earlier took over, causing her head to loll to the side as nausea roiled in her stomach. Imogene swallowed down bile quite a few times before he came to a stopping point, a rush of energy sweeping through her as he finished the runes around her wrist, the final pieces of the God-Emperor’s anointed security.
“Most excellent, my girl, we’ve finished,” Xavier smiled at her then, beaming with pride as he carded his bloodied fingers through her hair once more, forcing her to stay awake as he gently tapped her cheek with his free hand. “Now for your rewards.”
“Rewards…?” Imogene blearily asked, hearing the distant click of her cuffs coming undone as Xavier reached behind her head, adjusting the levers that controlled the metal platform she was on.
“A bath, some good food, and a long sleep after what you’ve endured,” He responded, gently dotting at her bloodied, mangled wrists with a newly wet cloth to cleanse them.
With a grunt, he lifted her from the table and into a bridal carry but not before gently guiding her arms around his stocky neck, supporting her weight fully as she fell limp, cooing at her when she winced from the agony. His hands settled beneath her knees and around her upper back, he kept her somewhat upright as he carried her bare form toward the door, nodding at Interrogator van Calox as the two escorted her to the upper levels of the ship. She was barely awake now, her vision swimming and her lungs full of unstrained air, but he encouraged her to try and stay awake as best he could. Since he had chosen not to blindfold her, she was able to get a vague sense of her surroundings, not noticing the quiet gait of Heinrix following closely behind.
Would she die here? The thought crossed Imogene’s mind unbidden and she grimaced, tucking her head further against Xavier’s chest as the unfamiliar interior of the ship passed by. Is this what he had intended when they first met in the Gardens? To maim and use her for the God-Emperor’s will? When they eventually reached their destination, all of her fears dissipated at the sight before her; ornate doors greeted her as she blinked her weary eyes open, and as she understood it these must have been the Lord Inquisitor’s private quarters. Where he slept, ate, and wrote to her on those lonely nights among the stars; where he now brought her to clean the filth from her body, to preserve and covet her. Her cheeks flushed at the implications of being alone with him here in such a state of undress, she could only gasp and widen her eyes as she took in the sheer eloquence of the four poster bed in the center, gilded in gold and drowning in red, and the various other amenities the space boasted.
“Y-Yours?” Imogene croaked, dehydrated, while Xavier continued forward into the room, parting a curtain on the other side of the lavish quarters to reveal the ornate bathroom on the other side.
“Ours — unless you would like a space of your own,” He murmured as he set her down on her feet, his large hand lingering at her waist as she wobbled while his other poured her a glass of water. “I thought it best to have you stay close to me while you recover from your initiation.”
“Then that was—?” She choked off with a cough, accepting the glass and taking a few sips to soothe her throat before she tried to speak again. “I thought you did not wish for me to join your ranks.”
“I did not, I do not, but it was the only way I could protect you,” He answered, watching her expression carefully as he said his next words. “You are now an Acolyte of His Holy Inquisition, with high honors might I add for your translation work.”
“Oh…” Something light settled in her chest with this new understanding, and she squeezed his arm before taking a cautious step further toward the large stone tub in the corner.
Xavier was quiet as he let go of her, following behind her after turning to nod at Heinrix who disappeared back behind the curtain to wait for them in the bedroom. Reaching the tub just before her, he steadied her with a hand on her lower back as he twisted a few knobs to run warm water through the basin with various oils and aromatics added for her enjoyment. His eyes raised from the water with a silent question once the water had turned hot, drawing her close to him as he frowned at the remaining damage on her body — Heinrix would need to tend to her once she fell asleep. Before his mind could turn to darker thoughts of punishing Tanakia for her insolence, she gently cupped his cheek with trembling fingers, a curious look in her eyes as she regarded him.
“I’ll need help washing…” Imogene murmured, her throat still raw enough to hurt but she could finally string a few words together. “Would you—?”
“Yes, of course,” He lightly interrupted, not wanting her to strain herself any further as he led her to sit in the now full tub, the heat of the water stinging her cuts based on how she winced. “Soak for now, allow me to undress before I join you.”
Once he began to take off his armor, Imogene’s eyes widened and her breath shortened, a sick sense of arousal coursing through her as he slowly revealed himself to her. Lord Inquisitor Xavier Calcazar was much, much broader than her gangly father, no Xavier was large with a strong barreled chest and a fattened belly that had her young eyes greedily tracing over his physique. She’d never seen such a man before, and had previously assumed it was the armor that made him imposing, yet it was his natural stature that made her flush darken. Xavier caught her staring, chuckling lowly as he shed his boots and undergarments to bare his girthy cock to her, giving it a few firm strokes as he approached her in the tub. The man was massive everywhere it seemed, and she lost track of her thoughts as she silently wondered what it would feel like compared to those she had dallied with before. His free fingers found her chin as she went to turn her head, bringing her four eyes back to his before he smirked.
“Why do you turn away? Have you never encountered a real man before, little girl?” His teasingly sincere tone earned him a fixed, if tired, glare of contempt, but he only matched her energy with a quick tug of his cock.
“I am no girl—” Imogene snapped, a fire within her that she’d long since thought gone roaring loudly in response to his mocking.
“Indeed, indeed — and such a beautiful woman you’ve grown into, my sweet, but that does not answer my question, does it?” He leaned into her space then, brushing his lips against hers in a tender breath of a kiss while his free hand found her hip to give it a light squeeze.
“I have not been with someone quite so… profound,” She mumbled, embarrassed by her lack of experience but standing firm. “A child would have spoiled my talents, I couldn’t risk it.”
“I quite agree, which is why I had an implant installed to prevent such a thing for you,” Xavier mentioned as easily as one might remark on the weather on Terra, and she helplessly blinked at him while he stepped fully into the water with her, his cock pushing up against her stomach. “I meant what I said when I told you that you would be free, Imogene.”
“Free of even this burden?” Imogene murmured, her dark eyes trailing from the swell of his cock and balls to the low heat in his own gaze, his cheeks having taken a pinkish hue in the face of her quiet observation. “Is this what the God-Emperor wishes of me?”
“I should wash your mouth with soap,” Xavier scolded breathlessly, but there was no heat behind it, just a warm mirth that drew her into his orbit as he guided her to turn away from him. “But I have a much better idea, relax, my sweet.”
Imogene didn’t see him soap up his hands, but as his big palms descended down her arms she could feel the slight sting of a cleansing solution on her wounds, his touch as gentle as a lover now that her torture had come to an end. He focused on cleaning the dried blood from her fingernails, careful to wash between each finger as carefully as he could before he moved to her waist and chest. Hands, rough with violence, touched her with a gentleness that left her to fall back against him as a wave of dizziness and nausea took over, and his sharp inhale as the plush of her thighs and ass slid back against him was not lost to her. Despite himself, he behaved, the lower bulk of his belly pushing against her lower back as he slipped his cock between her thighs and continued to soap her up. When she reached forward to grip the edge of the tub basin, the friction between his engorged tip and her clit causing her to moan loud enough that their unassuming voyeur could hear her every pant; Xavier was quick to act.
“May I, Imogene? Touch you, I mean,” He murmured, careful to watch his volume so as not to upset his other Acolyte; Heinrix may not have admitted to it, but the Lord Inquisitor was fiercely aware of his feelings on their newest addition. “I would never take more than you are willing to give.”
“Yes…” She breathlessly hissed, fingers curling around the basin as he lifted her hip and settled her calves on either side of his face; confused by the position, she tried to ask his intentions when she felt a warm, fleshy appendage spreading her labia apart, quick to lick and suck at her core in ways she’d never experienced before. “By the Throne—!”
His relentless assault on her cunt continued for some time, Imogene had gone nearly limp in his hold with her thighs shaking and her slick core spasming around his tongue by the time he pulled away for air, and she could only breathlessly beg him to set her down as her arms gave out from holding the basin so tightly. Chuckling as he lay her down in the tub, Xavier made a show of stroking his cock before he motioned for her to come sit betwixt his thick thighs. With a pathetic whimper, Imogene did as she was bid, swimming to sit with her back to him as he picked up a vial of flowery liquid and poured it into his palms before massaging the cleanser into her scalp. His fingers dug deliciously into her neck and shoulders between passes through her curls, earning a soft moan from Imogene as Xavier applied a pleasant pressure to her tense muscles, something she greatly appreciated in the moment if her wandering hand on his shin was anything to go by.