#regardless of whether you’re earnest or just baiting

[rowanthestrange]

Ruby’s parents are normal - this is how Ex-Commander Inston-Vee Vinder and Dr. Bel Hu can still win.

[thedistantstorm]

Phoenix Protocol 17

Zavala x Awoken Female Warlock | Mid/Post Forsaken | Slowburn | Gratuitous Descriptions of Light | Self-Confidence/Self-Worth Issues | Redemption

When the Traveler’s Light was returned to the Guardians after the defeat of the Cabal, it did not manifest itself the same in everyone. Miyu, an Awoken Warlock, finds herself struggling with her abilities, her Light feeling different and not her own. With her Vanguard preoccupied with grief and all eyes turned to the Reef, she finds herself turning to an unlikely source in an attempt to rediscover her connection to the Light and define what it means for her as a Sunsinger.

Previously

-/

He makes it a point to walk with her the next morning, from her small flat to the top of the Tower. They do not hold hands, but their Ghosts drift amiably over their shoulders and their conversation is earnest and fond. Teal optics regard Shaxx as he watches their Guardians warily. Unaware, or perhaps purposefully ignorant, the pair walks to the edge of the deck where Zavala spends most of his day dealing with the Guardian population.

Miyu makes it a point to check her service revolver before tucking it into her belt. “ You’re sure this is okay,” She confirms, fidgeting just slightly, uneasy about the fleeting looks she has managed to attract in the last forty-five minutes since they'd left her flat together. It was glaringly obvious he'd spent the night. The number glances she'd actually received was not really that many, but it certainly felt like all eyes were on them. Besides, she knew it only took one person to get every Guardian in the system talking.

“It will be fine,” He soothes. He'd sensed her trepidation, and did his best to distract her with conversation. It had worked, for the most part. “You've done nothing wrong. Don't fret.”

“I trust you,” She breathes, taking a deep breath. “Anyway,” She says, “The Crucible calls. I’ll catch up with you later.”

He braces her shoulders in a Titan-like encouragement. “Give them hell, Miyu.”

She nods, his confident gaze and steady words earning him a wry smirk that's nearly a smile. “I’ll try.”

When she takes her leave, he watches her go. Shaxx is watching him carefully in turn. Miyu addresses him a moment later, jarring the large Titan from whatever he'd been thinking. Zavala wonders if he's still Ikora's confidante. As planned, this will be a way for them to tell, for sure.

The truth is that they had both slept very little last night. Instead, they had laid awake, discussing how to proceed. Like Miyu has felt toward her Light, Zavala similarly harbours resentment toward Ikora's attitude and they way fell apart when they should have been sticking together.

He… definitely overshared, he felt. However, when her slender fingers trailed over his head, down the back his neck, along his spine, and back up, he found the words came easy. The few times he'd stopped, she'd slide those fingers under his chin and tip his face up to meet her eyes and encouraged him to continue or remind him that she's listening with a gentle squeeze to the back of his neck, an arm, whatever she could. Her gentle sincerity spoke volumes.

But more than that, so finally did she.

“We're better than this,” She'd said to him, their Ghosts resting silently between them, snatching any precious seconds of rest they were allowed. Where doe eyes would usually accompany her words, he found himself looking into a prideful warrior's gaze. “I have to be better.”

And in that moment, in the dark of one day bleeding into the light of the next, he'd found both solace and resolve. It filled his chest with warmth, both the comfort of his Light and the realization of hope.

“We have to be better,” He revised. “I need to work with Ikora better as well,” He'd told her, not long after that. “We deserve to grieve, but we must keep moving forward.”

-/

She feels good, today. Maybe it's from the rest, from her days hiding away. Maybe it's from unburdening herself of some of the nasty, ugly feelings of futility and worthlessness that have been weighing her down.

Either way, her blade is strong, firm in her hand, and her steps are light and uninhibited. She feels more comfortable in her own skin than she has in ages.

It shows in her results. She even manages a weak two-throw Dawnblade that hurts like hell, but not quite so unbearably that she cannot continue. It feels like progress, even despite the smell of burnt flesh, the smoldering leather. She knows the sword feels heavy and wrong though, her Light urging her in a different direction.

Halfway considering an experiment in which she plunges her sword into the ground and acts on instinct - she can almost see it, grasps at the half-formed picture of her Light's evolution like a fever dream at the edges of her mind - Shaxx calls the match. He bellows for them to clear out of Midtown. Miyu looks around. The rest of her matchmade-team looks similarly confused. The other team as well. Someone consults their Ghost. Something is wrong.

Their teams are tied.

Shaxx hates a tie.

-/

Lord Shaxx is steely and silent. He paces violently in the Commander's office, helm still on despite the closed door and lack of an audience. Zavala watches him.

“Are you going to tell me what is troubling you, old friend, or should I allow you to continue all afternoon?”

“I implicitly told you what you were doing, what it looked like.” Shaxx stops to face the Commander, sitting behind his desk. “And yet, you've persisted. Tell me: is it worth the amount of strife it will bring?”

“Did you notify Ikora immediately this morning?” Zavala inquires, almost airily. Like a clucking hen, Shaxx is. “I figured you would.”

The Crucible Handler growls but does not give an answer. “You understand,” he says, “That Ikora gave her a point-blank directive.”

“I have made plans to speak with Ikora about that, later this evening. I will not rehash my decisions with everyone who walks the Tower.”

“But you've allowed the entire Tower to see the two of you together, blatantly so. They question everything these days. They will think you're involved!” Shaxx slaps his palms down on the edge of the desk and it rattles. “That's almost worse than them thinking you're turning her against Ikora!”

Zavala is cool and unyielding, unbothered by the persistent baiting. “Sit down,” He beckons.

“Si - sit down?” He roars. “Are you to placate me like you've been trying to do to the sole surviving member of your Fireteam?”

“That,” The other Titan intones, though he seems a touch repentant, or perhaps Shaxx has hit a nerve, “Is a matter between myself and Ikora. I will address it with her.”

“Oh, finally willing to shoulder some of the blame-”

“Enough.” Shaxx's momentum hits a wall. “Ikora and I will discuss matters that pertain to us. I will not hear any more of your pot-stirring, whether it is Ikora’s directive, or otherwise.” Zavala's voice lowers an octave, business-like and smooth. “Stay out of it.”

Shaxx drops into the chair previously offered. “Fine. I still wish to know what you stand to gain by your actions with Miyu. She is,” Shaxx breaks off, shaking his head in silence. He undoes the clasps to his helm, sets it on the desk in front of him and regards Zavala carefully. “She may read into things, and the rumors that shall begin circulating about the two of you-”

Zavala does not flinch. “Rumors,” He says, carefully. “That we walked from her flat, to the Tower this morning?”

“Yes, Zavala. She's fragile right now. Certainly you know how others treat her.”

“Fragile enough to step foot in your Crucible.”

“It's not her skills that make her a liability, and you know that. Her little project, the one you're working on,” He gestures with a wave of his hand. “You spend time with her. She might get attached.”

“But what if,” Zavala says, as nonchalantly as he can muster, “I were to become attached as well?”

“No.” Shaxx brings a gauntleted fist to cover his mouth. “You didn't. Tell me you did not.”

The Commander gives him nothing. “I am merely speaking in hypotheticals.”

Shaxx levels him with a still-surprised glare. “No, you are not. I know you, and I know her. If you - and she - then...” He trails off, sighs. Crosses one leg over the other and mulls it over. “It would make sense, I suppose, but I wonder how forthcoming she is about things with you considering her present status.”

“She is… open about things, I would say.”

“She is, is she now? What she is now, it's - she is a good person, and I don't mean to discredit you, Zavala. But you must understand: that woman, what she is, compared to what she was-”

“She is insistent that she despises that,” Zavala interrupts. “She knows what she was, and she knows it varies greatly from how she has been, since the Cabal’s attack on the City and the Traveler.” His voice drops, becomes more somber. “We have both agreed to work on the things we can change.”

Shaxx leans in, just a touch, eyes piercingly locked on those of his friend. “And the things you can't?”

“To learn to accept them and move forward.”

“Are we talking about Cayde or about Miyu?”

“Either. Both.”

That's not the answer the more volatile of them wants to hear. “If you mean to tell me she's accepting that she'll never cast Dawnblade without the Traveler's bloody Light trying to rent her in twain, so help me-”

“I do not know what she thinks, on that front.”

“Then what do you know?”

Zavala regards him. There is the slightest glimmer of something new in his eyes, his posture proud but relaxed, less tense than usual. It's both familiar and not, Shaxx thinks. Perhaps, he muses to himself, they've found solace in each other.

“That she is free to make her own choices. Regardless of what I, or you, or even Ikora want for her. Miyu is… not any lesser than she was before.”

“You don't know that. You weren't with us at Burning Lake, you didn't see with your own two eyes the things I saw her do.”

If that throws Zavala for a loop, he does not react. Shaxx had sorely hoped it would, hopes still that it does, even if he does not indicate it. “I have not,” The Vanguard Commander agrees. “But I know a warrior's heart, Shaxx, all the same. She will find her way.”

“...Or, Ikora will beat it out of her,’ Shaxx grits, under his breath.

“What?”

Shaxx uncrosses his legs, then re-crosses them with the opposite one on top. “You heard me.” Zavala rises swiftly, fury morphing his features into something deadly dangerous. Shaxx is unimpressed. “Sit. Down. There is nothing that can be done for it now.”

“I will not-”

“She can fight her own battles,” Shaxx interrupts, rising as well. “I will not involve myself in your quarrel with Ikora any longer. You have my word. But, even so,” He looks his friend in the eye, imploring him to understand his resolve. “I cannot allow you to intervene.”