#I am in dire straits in terms of heart beats

[noonaishere]

Hey Atiny~~

Just a little reminder to vote for Ateez on Mubeat

We're like neck and neck with Lim Young Woong 😭😭😭

(and carats if you want to help too, I know we're like fandom buddies 🫶 🥰)

[borealtwilight]

reprieve

Summary: Sometimes, a place to rest can be found in the most unexpected of locations.

Meanwhile, Thel not-so-subtly wonders when Rtas will actually adopt every stray he takes under his wing.

Warning/s: swearing. that’s....that’s it, honestly Word count: 1,519 A/N: for the beautiful @pantheris ;) <3

The Longsword’s engines screamed, whined, and died out.

The strike interceptor plummeted, distance nigh unfathomable, to the ground below.

The impact reverberated the land for miles around, a thick cloud of dust and smoke billowing upwards and outwards, a clear signal that whomever had piloted the bird was in dire straits.

And said pilot, a Spartan-III clad in aqua blue MJOLNIR, was out cold, slumped over the controls, armour plating cracked and dented.

“What was that?”

Rtas tilted his head, gaze swinging towards his longtime friend, the Arbiter, Thel ’Vadam. Mandibles clacking in a shrug, he swiftly rose from his seat, one hand straying to the hilt of his energy sword on instinct.

“Hold fast, Arbiter. I shall see what it is that has caused this disruption.” he rumbled, and without waiting to see Thel’s acknowledging nod, turned and bounded swiftly away on springy digitigrade legs.

The Shipmaster felt new purpose pumping through his veins as he ran, fuelling him, and he made it to his Phantom faster than he’d ever done for the past five or six years. It was very unusual for something to crash onto the surface of Sanghelios; after all, last he recalled, there had been no ships fighting in orbit above. It was possible that a wounded ship had jumped out of Slipspace, been pulled towards Sanghelios by its gravity well, and crashed as a result, but that did not seem very likely, either.

He did not know. He would have to wait until he reached the site of whatever it was that had impacted, to find out.

Rtas jumped out of the Phantom’s bay door, accompanied by three of the finest warriors belonging to the Swords of Sanghelios, Tul ’Juran among them.

The young Scion was the first to speak as all four Sangheili took in the sight of what had once been an inky black space fighter of some kind, now spread across half the landscape. A noise that might have been disgust, or apprehension, escaped the back of her throat, and she remarked, “Shipmaster, this is one of the human ship-to-ship fighters, correct?”

“My belief is that this is the one they call a Longsword,” he answered her, studying the wreckage with the Sangheili equivalent of a frown on his features. “They are formidable in packs, and I would wonder how this one was brought down over Sanghelios.”

“A human fighter ship,” one of the other Sangheili murmured in surprise, “Let us hope they are not a hostile human.”

Rtas clacked his mandibles twice, peering at the wreckage a moment longer, before issuing out orders. “Stay out here, and be on your guard. We do not know if this fighter’s pursuers have followed it down. Tul, follow me but keep at a distance. I would rather this human not take me by surprise.”

His warriors did as obeyed, and Tul followed him into a gaping hole that had once been part of the fighter’s hull, since no other entrance was discernible to him. The Shipmaster had to blink the smoke out of his eyes as he ventured deeper into the Longsword. About ten minutes later, and he was dragging an armoured human soldier out of the fighter.

“A Demon? Here, on Sanghelios?” The third Sangheili finally spoke up, jaws hanging slack, as he took stock of the limp figure that Rtas laid upon the ground. “Shipmaster, this is—”

“Unprecedented, yes, but this one is hurt. It would be dishonourable to leave them out here to die. As much as it may be unpalatable to see their blood spilled upon the ground when they have not been fighting.” The half-jaw’s green eyes flashed a warning, as he met the gaze of his fellow warrior. “You understand this, yes? We are not at war with these humans any longer; have not been for some years. There is no reason to think that this one will want to kill us unless they attack us on sight. And if we do not act hostile, then there will be no valid reason for them to attack us.”

The Sangheili hung his head, thoughtful, before raising it once more. “I understand. I will send word ahead, to prepare a medical suite.” He marched back towards the Phantom, and, indeed, he was no longer anxious about the situation.   

Silently, the Shipmaster wondered what had happened to this Spartan, a soldier considered to be on par with any one of the warriors beside him. He hoped that they had not brought trouble to these shores.

“How did this human end up here?” Thel could not keep his eyes off the Spartan, where she lay resting in one of the medical suites of Vadam Keep. His gaze finally swung towards Rtas, head canted to one side. “And a Spartan, of all the human warriors....”

Rtas carefully and quietly explained what she had told him, when she had woken up to find her armour stacked in a corner, and the medical suite in the process of repairing the injuries done to her body. He told the Arbiter that the Spartan had been fleeing from those who had formerly held command of her; that she was tired of suffering their abuse, as she’d termed it, and that she had not expected to survive the jump into Slipspace, as she’d attached a drive to a ship that was not built for such things.

“Human in-fighting.” Thel murmured, flexing his mandibles, a snorting sigh escaping his nostrils. “I would presume that she is under your care now, Shipmaster? Another lost soul to stay with you?”

Rtas drew his head back, stunned, before he saw the gleam of amusement in the Arbiter’s eyes. It was somewhat of a joke, a jab at the fact that the half-jaw had the tendency to “pick up strays”, as the humans might have termed it, as he travelled throughout the galaxy, keeping peace. “I— Yes, Arbiter. So long as it does not displease you to have a human staying at Vadam Keep.”   

For a moment, the other Sangheili was silent. And then, “It matters not to me. But be careful to not allow word to get out. There are others who are less... hospitable... towards humans, even among my keep. I would not have a civil war over the sake of one human, lost or no.”

The Shipmaster dipped his head in a nod, placing a fist on his silvery-white chestplate. “You have my word, Arbiter.”

“Nnngh...” 

Artemis opened her eyes, sitting up slowly. Where the hell was she? The last thing she remembered was entering her Longsword, and fleeing from COLD MOON into Slipspace.... The drive had failed, because it wasn’t supposed to have been attached to a strike interceptor, shields or not... She’d crash-landed on...

“Sangheili!” she gasped in surprise, as she caught sight of the very hinge-head that had pulled her out of the wrecked Longsword and taken her here. She dimly recalled speaking to him earlier, telling him what had happened. He’d said his name was... was... “Rtas ’Va.... oh shit.... Rtats.... Rtas ’Vad- ’Vadum?”

The noise that rumbled out of the alien’s mouth sounded like laughter, but it was so strange, and so jarring. “Nevermind that, human. If you struggle to pronounce my name, just call me Shipmaster.”

“....Right.” The Spartan rubbed her forehead, exhaling wearily. “So I am really on Sanghelios.”

“Yes,” the Sangheili answered, “And the Arbiter Thel ’Vadam has granted you stay here at Vadam Keep. He is also Kaidon; what he says, goes. I trust that you will keep yourself confined to the Keep, and its grounds, and only those areas. None of us wish dissent to be sown among our people by your mere presence. I am sure that you would understand.”

That made sense. It was much the same on the few worlds where the former Covenant aliens were allowed to live. They were only allowed to stay in designated areas, lest any of the humans panic and stir up trouble. And she knew full well how to remain seen and yet unseen, hidden in plain sight.

“Of course, Shipmaster. You have my word.” Artemis was quiet for a few beats, as she struggled to ask something that would doubtless nag at her if she did not do so otherwise. “I... I would perhaps like to know if you have somewhere for me to sleep, and something for me to eat? I’m... running on fumes. Human terminology, but you might get what it means.”

“Food and sleep is sustenance to a human, yes?” The Sangheili rose from where he had been seated, nodding his head. “Please, come with me. Have no fear while you are staying with us. You do not have to worry about asking questions; I am more than happy to oblige you. Anything you may require will be at your disposal.”

Well. That was more than she was expecting. It was a sign of goodwill, of the aliens doing their best to keep the peace, and yet somehow, the thoughtfulness going into it.... It warmed her heart.

“My thanks, Shipmaster.”

“And my pleasure, Spartan.”