The Ever Virgin

The following article is a /tg/ related story or fanfic. Should you continue, expect to find tl;dr and an occasional amount of awesome.

For the briefest time on Biel-Tan there was peace, though to the militant Eldar of this particular Craftworld peace was but the period where one prepared for more war. While the myriad of citizens followed their paths for the betterment of society, and as the seers sat musing over the things to come, the Aspect Shrines of Biel-Tan continued their constant training.

In the Shrine of the Dance Through The Enemy's Grasp, Warp Spider Exarch Parieth (although not so much the name of the warrior as the name of the armor he wore in battle, the identity he had become) over-saw his students in their exercise. Able warriors all, Parieth merely kept their skills honed as they performed leaping drills while blindfolded, reinforcing the need to trust their senses beyond sight when the cacophony of battle enveloped them at the end of a Warp-jump. Theirs was the most dangerous path, many claimed by the powers of the warp by a mistimed jump as much as felled by the enemy they faced in the material realms. Precision was key, courage was mandatory.

"Kilell! Do not land so flatly! Keep your momentum least you appear as a sitting target!" the Exarch shouted, pacing the room as he watched his students. To Parieth these moments between battles were the most painful torture he could conceive. His senses were dulled when the smell of blood and the screams of falling enemies were far away, and though he distracted himself tending to his shrine the warrior simply desired to wage war, to lose himself further on the path that he could never leave.

At last the drills ended, and the Exarch directed his Aspect Warriors to tend to the shrine's weapons and armor, and then meditate. Once the students had left, Parieth finally turned to regard the one whom he had sensed enter during the drill some time before.

"Long has it been since you walked this path then turned from it, as you did from all paths you strode," the Exarch intoned as the other Eldar stepped into the light, "What brings you here Barenesh, Autarch of Biel-Tan?"

"Although you taught me all you could in this Aspect, Parieth, your wisdom could yet guide me further," Barenesh responded. Clasping their hands to the other's wrist, then parting and slapping one another on the left shoulder the pair of warriors completed a wordless greeting as brothers-in-arms, the closest thing an Exarch like Parieth would consider a friend.

"Tell me then, what this warrior of Khaine may yet teach you," Parieth smiled, directing the Autarch to sit with him upon the floor of the shrine and share his problem. Once seated it still took Barenesh a moment to bring the words he sought to his lips, and even then when they took form they came with a caution the Exarch immediately picked up on.

"You recall the reclaiming of Isha's Heart from the forces of the ruinous enemy, Parieth?" Barenesh started, staring at his clasped hands as slumped forwards. Isha's Heart was a great and important battle for the Eldar of Biel-Tan. The minions of Khorne had laid claim to a sacred maiden world, and desecrated a shrine upon it that recalled the existence and death of one of the fallen pantheon of their kind. Barenesh had been a part of it, a pivotal part in the victory in fact.

The Autarch bowed slightly before beginning his tale, telling his old teacher of his mixed feelings of joy and sorrow for victories won and lives lost, and of the guilt that comes with commanding others who die. These things had once more come about at the end of their war over Isha's Heart, and with it came the additional tension of being in the presence of the Phoenix Lord Fuegan as he prepared to leave once more for the webway. The two had discussed the battle, and never had Barenesh been more intimidated than he had when faced by the intense way the Fire Dragon spoke and moved. The very air had become stale and dry, and looking at the Phoenix Lord almost impossible as the Autarch constantly found his eyes drifting towards the painfully bright runes that writhed upon the relic weapon he bore.

It was with some relief that Barenesh saw Fuegan at last to the webway chambers so that he could continue his endless journey hunting the enemies of the Eldar, but then that emotion was crushed when their journey was interrupted.

"Farseer Macha," Barenesh spoke the name almost as a sigh, and placed a hand to his forehead, "I can only assume she sought to find someone capable of out-doing her sister's partner, for immediately she was upon him like a spider winding its prey in further strands of its silk."

Although known for her increasing lack of sense upon the Craftworld, Farseer Macha had yet still enough sense not to overtly attempt seduction on Fuegan the moment their paths crossed. She had appealed instead to the warrior's spirit and spoke to him at length of warfare, and managed to intrigue the near-immortal hero enough for them to move on to a more secluded area to continue their discussion. Barenesh had been utterly ignored by the Farseer, something he had gotten used to as the woman went on her relationship benders.

What the Autarch knew next of the incident was from another seer present in the Hall of Chimes and Stars, a place where an Eldar could but for a moment sit and contemplate the stars about the Craftworld whilst tasting one of the Eldar's immaculate wines. It was there Macha had managed to drag Fuegan, bringing enough drink to knock out a green-skin along with some food. Barenesh had not believed what he'd been told at first because of what he and most other Eldar knew of the Phoenix Lords, and the Seer's description of Macha offering food and drink to Fuegan seemed almost incomprehensible. What made even less sense was Fuegan accepting the offers, opening the mouth of his helmet only (much to Macha's disappointment) and drinking great quantities of the offered alcohol (much to Macha's delight).

"She was trying to get Fuegan, Phoenix Lord of the Fire Dragons, the Burning Aspect of Kaela Mensha Khaine - drunk - in order to coerce him into swearing an oath of infatuation and devotion to her so she could marry him and one-up her sister," Barenesh explained, and even Parieth could not hide his disbelief. "Were that the depth of her foolishness I wouldn't have minded. It was destined to fail and the embarrassment would be less...but she matched him drink for drink."

To attempt to match one who simply could not get intoxicated in any manner was where the Farseer's already doomed plan spiraled out of control. Either amused, confused or merely curious Fuegan allowed Macha to become utterly drunk without explaining his unique constitution, and then attempted to help her back to her quarters. Almost utterly incoherent and having lost sight of her original plan to snare a husband through the wobbly haze of the drink Macha's plan became utterly perverted, as did her mind.

Upon reaching her quarters Fuegan made to leave, but yet somehow Macha had convinced him otherwise. She had, according to Fuegan, declared she had a hold he had no chance of breaking in a million years, and being a warrior who backed down from nothing he had accepted the challenge and entered her living area (and then her bedroom). This is where the final part of the rapidly running downhill run of the story began, and Parieth watched as the Autarch ran his fingers through his own hair out of anxiety.

"May the gods strike me down if I am false, but Parieth she did indeed have a hold that any normal warrior would have struggled to break..." Barenesh began with wide eyes locked on his old teacher's face, "I do not know how she managed it but she breached his armor with her powers, and rent off his armor's crotch while kneeling in front of him. Were he a lesser entity she would have debauched herself for him."

It was not to be though, as Macha had in her zeal forgotten that although a Phoenix Lord was a warrior without peer, they were also a warrior without a physical body. The Farseer had but only a split second to see the star-fire of the soul energy swirling inside the armor before all the food and drink Fuegan had ingested in the preceding hours that had collected in his codpiece splattered all over face in a messy and disgusting smelling mush.

"Shortly after that I was alerted to the sounds of yelling in Macha's quarters," Barenesh sighed once more, "I entered swiftly and had found a table nearby ablaze...Fuegan had set down his axe after Macha's 'unbreakable hold' had failed, and declared with a laugh he'd show her a real one. I believe it was a step-over-toe-hold-face-lock. By the time I'd arrived she'd been in the hold for five minutes and was foaming at the mouth."

Silence reigned for the next few moments, and Parieth took that as a sign that the story had ended. It was difficult to believe, and even harder for the warrior to imagine considering the path he trod himself.

"So tell me, Barenesh...what do you wish to ask of me? This...'incident' seems beyond my realm of expertise. I know this Farseer is a source of frustration and attraction for you, but beyond that-" The Exarch was stopped by Barenesh suddenly grasping his shoulders with both hands, and the next words from the Autarch came as a whisper as though from a being that has seen the horrors of the universe and was now remembering them as he spoke.

"They're still in the hold, Parieth. They have been so for two months and he's not letting go."

The citizens of Biel-Tan never again knew peace.