The Speaker:

Eva Levante:

Petra Venj:

Anastasia Bray:

Shiro-4:

Emperor Calus:

Mara Sov:

Uldren Sov (pre-Rez):

Post-Rez:

Destiny 2 Gifs [19/∞] - Saint-14′s Grave.

hello anon :) thank you for your request! I hope you enjoy this prompt fill. I decided to take recent developments into consideration and give this fic a different POV + angst.. I hope you like this! and hope you have a nice day as well! :)

Patience has always paid itself off, as the Witch Queen has learnt in her long game. She has reaped its rewards a thousand times over, and even from within her self-inflicted prison, she is bestowed a reward upon as it marches towards her willingly.

Crow.

Savathun watches him approach, shoulders spread wide, yet fear in his glowing eyes. His companion, the ever meddling wordless Guardian, does not interfere, stands aside in a restful manner, with tingles of Light and Darkness at their beck and call. How sweet it is of them to accompany Crow on the journey of this self-discovery!

Crow pleads and bargains, he asks for a favour. He wishes to see what the bearer of his face had done to earn such loathing, and that is a favour he requests of Savathun, well aware that there may be consequences.

She smiles. She does love a good favour.

"Open up, little bird. Everything you need to know is within your arm's reach."

And she fills his mind with images, with voices. Given raw and unchanged, and it is enough to cause chaos in that little brave soul.

He watches, tearful, as he holds a gun with a worn out ace of spades on it, one that now hangs in the Guardian's holster. He watches himself leave, a smirk on his lips and cruelty in his eyes. He watches the Guardian and Petra Venj cry over a broken Exo body, with a glimmer of tainted gold and blue all over its destroyed frame. A tiny scatter of metal lies beside it, that one of a Ghost, shattered into pieces, lightless, asunder.

Petra is quietly mourning, and the Guardian swears revenge through thick tears.

The memories are a blur; the murders, the sweeps of killing throughout the Reef, the bloodied hands and sense of justice like never before. Tainted Ether between his fingers and blackness coating his eyes until all he can see is his dear sister's face. Poisonous loyalty, clutching at his very core.

But it is not all, there is more. The Guardian's face in front of his, above him, and that very same gun shooting a final bullet. The unforgettable scream of the hand cannon.

Savathun watches calmly, filling her need for knowing, what will the little bird do now?

"Enough," he cries out, stumbling backwards, holding onto his forehead. Savathun withdraws the memories, away and for safekeeping. She watches with curious eyes as the Guardian rushes to hold Crow. He cries loudly, desperately, and the Guardian comforts him best as they can while their eyes never do leave Savathun's prison.

Crow whispers and cries apologies, much to the Guardian's gentle rejection to accept them, for they were not for Crow to give. How kind, how generous!

The Guardian asks of Savathun, what did you show him?

After hearing this dialogue I had this idea of Crow asking YW how they cope with this being the way things are. How does it not get to them? Normally YW would shrug it off with an 'It is what it is' attitude but they know Crow has been struggling since the Osiris reveal. So instead, for once, they are as open and honest with Crow as he always seems to be with them. YW tells them something nobody else knows...

“You know, I have an apartment in the city but I don’t really spend my nights there that often. Especially after the Red War. Sometimes I fly around and find a place I like the look of in the middle of nowhere, I do scans to see if it is safe, and I just stay there. I’ve chosen a lot of different places but my favourites are the clearings in deep valleys, next to open water with forest covered mountains on either side. And I have this sweater… I bought it from Eva a long time ago. I don’t know what I was thinking at the time. It isn’t the prettiest and it is big, so big I think it’d be a loose fit on Shaxx even. It is warm though, and so much more comfortable than any armour I have. Wearing it feels like a different type of security. I’ll wear that, sometimes even sleep in it, and in the mornings I’ll walk bare foot in the grass or sit on top of my ship with some tea in my hands and I’ll just…”

They take a deep breath before continuing. They’ve already said more than they’ve ever told anybody but the next part… It feels like too much. Like exposing a weak spot.

“Sometimes… Sometimes I pretend my ship isn’t a ship at all but a small house made of wood and stone. I think I saw something like that once. Not the ruins of one but a picture. I like to imagine I am sitting out on steps with nothing to think of other than what to eat later and how to waste away the day. I’d spend hours just listening to the sounds that surround me but not because I need to. I wouldn’t be straining my ears for signs of a potential threat just… listening to the world. There’d be no purpose, no mission. I think that version of me would have a dog… or maybe a wolf. I know how ridiculous that sounds, the Young Wolf with a wolf, but I’ve always loved the wolves at the Iron Temple…”

They trail off. For the first time since they started speaking they turn to look at Crow and find him already looking at them. His expression is soft and he is smiling. It makes them feel seen and vulnerable in way they aren’t used to. In a way they aren't sure they like.

"Yea, anyway. Sorry for rambling on. I suppose what I am trying to say is that I struggle too so..." They shrug and make a show of stretching as though they've been sitting too long, "I really need to get back. Things to kill; reports to write about killing."

Crow speaks before they can make their escape.

“I think I’d like to see one of your places one day, if you don't mind the intrusion. I know I definitely want to see this sweater.”

There’s laughter in his eyes as he says that last part. While doing their best to hide their own growing laughter behind a glare, they shove him off balance and into the dirt.

Me: The Dark Future is currently my favorite lore book

See, a few years ago, Mara Sov told the Young Wolf and their friends, VERBATUM, “bow to no one”.

She’s trapped by her own past words and she knows it. The Young Wolf knows it in a vaguely dissociated, distracted way, behind that scarred helmet.

She more than likely knows we know, and it is simularly likely that the Young Wolf knows she knows that they know.

Mara’s ego may prickle just a little at the lack of politesse and performative respect, but she all but ASKED the Young Wolf to do precisely what they’re doing.