#also saladin is there so ♥

[acromandus]

each time iron banner season rolls in, I fall in love with Destiny 2 again

[a-driftamongopenstars]

Can we maybe have a FemGuardian x Saladin after all what happened? (So like season mission and all that?) And like maybe the Guardian is heart broken as she and her lover have to kinda seperate? If you don’t mind ofc 🥺

hey anon, here is a ficlet for you :) I hope you like it ♥ definitely got rather feelsy but also sweet :o

also on ao3

The hangar bay is suspiciously void of people. The Guardian wonders if someone has seen her follow here and politely made sure she could have one final meeting with Lord Saladin in private before his departure for the Cabal fleet.

Perhaps, it is simply wishful thinking on her part, but she is grateful.

She finds him by the jumpship, standing turned to the endless slopes of mountains beyond the city. The Guardian watches him a moment with a clenching heart, his body shadows against the light. He must have walked every inch of this land, knows every forest clearing, every little nook and cranny. He breathed centuries worth of this land's air and now he must abandon it for a greater cause, a repayment for another's grave mistake.

The Guardian both admires him... and mourns him.

"Come here," Lord Saladin requests in a deep voice without turning to look at her; and she does.

"When do you leave?" she asks.

"Imminently. There is just enough time to spare for our conversation. Empress Caiatl is not as patient as we think."

The Guardian smiles wryly.

"No, she isn't."

They stand in quiet for a little while. Ships come and go, there is noise all around them, a familiar one, of the City they have been protecting.

"Will we be able to see each other?" the Guardian braves the question, even if her voice wishes to betray her.

"It is not something I can say right now. If Caiatl is favourable... then perhaps."

"I'll visit the temple," she says thoughtfully.

"Take Crow with you. He will... he must know."

The Guardian nods, feeling that words would choke her if she spoke any more.

Instead, she slides her cold hand in Saladin's, and her fingers are instantly enveloped in that familiar pleasant warmth as he squeezes her hand. She feels the calloused skin, the scars. She wants to never forget that, not from the way he has been holding her hand, her cheek, her body.

Saladin turns, embracing her wordlessly. Never a man of too many words in such moments, the Guardian loves it about him. With his silence he seems to deliver more than he could ever say.

She feels a kiss press against her forehead, and she tips her face to let him kiss her lips as well.

"Take care, Young Wolf," he whispers. Only he can put such fondness and pride in those two words, only in his voice does it sound like a reverent title, an appreciation, a confession.

"I love you," she whispers back so quietly, no one but Saladin could hear.

The birds take off with the jumpship, taking away her words on a gust of wind.