#leaf's writing

Summary: Ferus Olin always got the idea that he’d never be able to shake Anakin Skywalker.

Thank you for the request! This one ended up…very action-heavy. Which is a first, so I apologize if it’s kinda awkward or whatnot. It’s also fluff, which I did not plan on. But hey, its gotta be fluff if it’s crimson days amirite. Also, this is a full fucking week after Crimson Days actually launched, so… I took some liberties with Zavala’s supercharge, but eh. Also, featuring my titan OC Nebula and my Warlock Leilani as the opposing team. You might’ve met them during Destcember.

Crimson Days had arrived.

To the dismay of his peace of mind, Zavala could hear Shaxx yelling about love and war from his den across the way. While he did not bury himself in work as he used to, his balcony was still there for him to give guidance to guardians and offer strike assignments. He envies Ikora at times, who had a relative peace with no yells of “THIS IS WHAT LOVE SOUNDS LIKE” in her ears.

He misses the days when they were just a few feet apart from each other.

But then, Zavala wasn’t sure how he was roped into it, but he found himself in Shaxx’s Crimson Doubles, about to fly out to Bannerfall with no idea who his Bond was. His only consolation was that Shaxx had told him that it was just one quick round, not a first-to-three-wins match as it usually was.

Shaxx’s voice filled his ears once more, announcing the match.

“Show your partner your devotion.”

As Zavala was deposited on one corner of the map, he was met face to face with purple robes and dark skin.

Ikora. His Crimson Bond was Ikora.

For a moment he stood there, staring at her equally shocked expression.

“Surely,” she started, a devious smile lifting the corners of her lips even as she pulled out her ghost to check the subclasses the other team were using. A Sunbreaker and a Stormcaller against their Striker and Voidwalker. “Surely Shaxx does not expect the other team to win?”

Zavala let out a small chuckle, feeling the competitive nature of the Crucible get to him and his light giving energy to usually tired limbs, “That, or they truly to wish to test their steel against us.”

“Let them try.” Ikora’s words were punctuated with the lift of her shotgun, emblazoned with the Vanguard symbol, as they turned in unison to meet the opposing pair.

Zavala took the high ground, using his light to push himself up to the walkway that overlooked their side of the map, while Ikora quickly gained ground and pushed through the double doors that allowed entrance from the ground to the Center.

The barking of communication erupted between the opposing pair, though too quiet for either Vanguard to hear clearly.

Just as Zavala leapt into the air, arc energy surrounding his fist, gunfire erupted. Ikora’s shotgun went off, once, twice, and the sound of a warlock pushing off the ground filled the air.

The opposing warlock didn’t get very far before Zavala’s fist killed her.

As Zavala was picking himself up from his hurtle from the sky, Ikora’s shotgun went off once again, sending projectiles to their left. They hit the wall, missing the opposing titan by mere inches as she ducked back behind cover.

Zavala pushed forward, auto rifle in hand, into the adjacent hallway.

There was a muttered “oh shit” as the other titan realized the Drifting Apart debuff activated, marking her and her partner out for Ikora and Zavala to follow.

“Circle around.” Zavala told his Bond, “she’s running out the otherside.”

“I can tell, thank you,” Ikora shot back, already jumping up and over the separation between the Center and the right wing of the map.

“God dammit!” The Sunbreaker could be heard cursing as she met Ikora head on. Zavala saw her slide on her knees past Ikora, though not without taking half the shotgun projectiles to the chest. “Lei, get over here!”

An arcbolt grenade flashed out, catching both Vanguards in its radius. The conclusion of the flare was punctuated by a warlock in black and white robes landing next to her partner, who immediately put up a Titan barrier between the two teams.

Not to be deterred, Zavala leapt up and slammed back down, casting a mini-Fist of Havoc that shattered the barrier and threw the opposing titan across the way. The warlock floated up to safety in the nick of time before firing quick bursts of a bone-colored pulse rifle that slammed into the barrier Zavala threw up.

Ikora dropped her shotgun in favor of drawing a sidearm from her waist and dipped out of the barrier’s cover to fire a three-round burst into the fallen Sunbreaker, giving them another point. She turned around and threw a void grenade at the wall next to the other warlock, who cursed as it depleted her health to none.

With both of their opponents in the midst of being revived to different location, the pair of Vanguards took a quick breather.

“Any idea who that titan is?” Ikora breathed out, calming the adrenaline racing through her veins, “She almost got me with a hammer to the face.”

“Nebula Karthien,” Zavala answered, keeping a watchful eye, “I was not in charge of her training, however. I merely gave her mentor some pointers.”

“Oh?” Ikora raised an eyebrow at him, “Sounds familiar. Her partner, Leilani, was the same.”

“Then perhaps that was just a fluke, if I know who their mentor was. We should not underestimate our opponents.”

“Indeed.”

And, as a matter of fact, they were right to be careful. Nebula caught them both with Chaperone rounds as they took out Leilani in their next firefight.

The score remained in Zavala and Ikora’s favor; 3 - 2 as Shaxx announced, “One minute.”

Both teams’ HUDs notified them of the fact that everybody had their super charged. This last minute would boil down to who was able to utilize their’s best.

Zavala and Ikora met Nebula and Leilani in battle at the center of the map, around the metal structure that reached for the sky.

The first to fire off their supercharge was Ikora, who launched an explosive Nova Bomb at their opponents as they rounded a corner. It exploded against the corner, sending axion bolts after both warlock and titan. The warlock was caught by two and Ikora scored yet another point for their team.

Meanwhile, Vengeance made Nebula stronger as she called to existence the Hammer of Sol, and threw hammers at the axion bolts creeping up on her. They were rendered harmless, and Nebula surged forward to rain flaming hammers upon Zavala and Ikora. The titan’s light proved stronger, as both Zavala and Ikora were caught in the blaze. Shaxx’s yells could be heard from the other side of the Tower at that.

“Amazing! You got them both! HA!”

4 - 4. The score was tied as Leilani was reunited with her partner, and Ikora and Zavala were placed on the left side of the map.

“Thirty seconds!” Shaxx boomed, “It’s now or never!”

Indeed it was. The timer ticked down as both teams surged forward. Zavala’s fists once more were engulfed in arc light, but this time the energy traveled up and down his body, his footsteps leaving scorch marks as he ran.

The two teams met near the Center, but Zavala was faster as he leapt up and crashed back down in a Fist of Havoc, catching Nebula with the arc waves that coursed through the ground and air. Not at all finished, the striker leapt up once more at the opposing warlock.

Leilani, seeing her partner downed, sent her own lightning bolt to the ground as she cast Stormtrance.

Zavala took the strike practically to the face, but didn’t falter in rushing up and slamming his arc-powered shoulder into the Warlock.

The blow didn’t kill her, but Ikora’s shotgun following it up certainly did.

“I’m certain Lord Shaxx has blown out his vocal cords with our match,” Ikora commented later when they were back in the Tower.

“It would not be the first time.”

They shared a moment of amusement there, before they both turned to return to their respective stations. But, they did so reluctantly, as two magnets attracted to each other.

“I…” Ikora started, but unlike her, she faltered.

“Something on your mind?”

She was silent for a moment, as if deep in thought, “Shaxx asked me to participate, but…how did he get you to agree to participate in the Crucible?”

“Shaxx told me a fellow Titan wanted to test their mettle. He did not tell me it would be as Crimson Bonds, however.”

Ikora let out a quiet hum of acknowledgement. Then she looked up and looked him in the eye.

In that moment, Zavala found himself thinking…those eyes were beautiful.

GOOD FUCKING GOD THIS TOOK ABSOLUTELY FOREVER AND IM STILL NOT HAPPY WITH IT. I’m so sorry about the delay. I tried to get Delta’s characterization good but,,,eh. I hope you’re happy with what I got.

Ada hears the footsteps before they’ve even struck the polished floor of the Black Armory. “Guardian.” She says in greeting, not bothering to turn from her work.

“Ada! So good to see you again.”

...Ah. Him again. “I could say the same,” the Exo replies, turning from her work station with a wary look in her eyes, “so long as you keep your hands off the wares.”

“You can’t still be sore over that, can you?” Delta-134 has a spring in his step and smile on his face as he approaches, though Ada can’t be certain that either is genuine.

“I’ve told you, many times before, that the weapons are only for the pleasure of the eye, Delta.” She almost glowers at him, before stopping herself from such a childish reaction. “Are you here on business?”

“You could say that.”

Ada turns fully, clasping her hand together in front of her casually. There was always something about this particular guardian that made her straighten whatever she had for a spine and pay attention. “Another frame, perhaps?”

At this, Delta’s face turns solemn, somber. “No,” he says softly, “something else.” Slowly, he pulls out a black and white device, one side displaying a blue circle of sorts, and places it on one of Ada’s work surfaces.

Ada recognizes it, or she’s almost certain she does, but almost cannot dare to hope. She slowly, tentatively, reaches out for it. “Is that…”

Delta nods. Yes.

“You found it…” Awe fills Ada’s voice. Picking up the device, she gazes at it in wonder, lifting it up to the light so she could better see it. Then she reaches behind her head and slots the device there.

Immediately, a purple glow pulses rapidly across her body and Ada lets out a choked gasp at the sudden surge of power. Her breathing comes shallow as another wave courses through, this time tinged blue.

“Ada!” Delta reacts with alarm, reaching out to the other exo as she loses her balance to yet another wave of energy and is driven to her knees.

“I’m fine,” Ada breathes. The previous waves of blue and purple energy seem to have settled into an gentle sheen of violet around her metal body. Ada, having been driven to her knees, slowly stands with a new sense of being. Something long missing had been returned to her, giving her a sense of completion.

“...you look…” Different, lovely, wonderful. “Better than ever.”

If Ada had a proper mouth, she probably would have smiled then. “Thank you,” she says steadily, holding Delta’s gaze and meaning every last word.

“It was my pleasure,” he replies quietly, trying not to ruin whatever mood that seemed to have settled around the two.

“I’m sure it is.” Ada turns back to her work. “As long as you are rewarded for it.”

Delta grins. “That too.” With a tip of an imaginary hat, he turns to leave. “Ma’am.”

“Our doors are always open to you,” Ada says after him, turning her head, “even if you only love our wares.”

It was an addiction.

The thrill of power coursing through their veins, using the darkness against other guardians.

It was a taste of freedom, a thrill at just doing something the Vanguard would never let them do.

Again and again they returned to that dingy hallway, sign themselves up for Gambit, and launch to wherever the Drifter pointed them towards.

They knew it was wrong.

The glances between them told each other as much.

They shouldn’t be enjoying this taste of dark power.

They shouldn’t be associating with someone who talked about killing his ghost in a good light.

They shouldn’t be dealing in dark weapons.

They shouldn’t be listening to someone goad them into collecting motes that didn’t shine as bright as the light.

The motes felt sick. They glowed like light, but there was an illness to it that made it all wrong. Just wrong.

Why was the Drifter carting around a planet-sized ball of dirt?

Why did he want the motes so much?

And most of all...why did he not want the Vanguard knowing about him?

The rumors of “guardian killers” spread like wildfire.

Of shadowy figures creeping out of the darkness to strike at the ghosts who gave their guardians immortality.

Forget the Vex, ruthless unfeeling machines who were terrifying in their sheer ability to simulate. Who brought down the great Saint-14 and claimed the lives of countless others by trapping them in the confines of time itself.

Forget the Hive, who had spread like a disease across the universe, killing as their lives depended on it. Who arrived in Sol and wormed deep into the heart of the Moon. Who's secrets dealed deep into power and logic that would consume the minds of weaker men. Who threatened humanity as the coming dark once, twice, thrice, and now four times.

Forget the Cabal, who's sheer firepower and strength rivalled and even surpassed the peak of nuclear firepower in human history. Who brought down the Last City is mere hours after Ages of it standing strong.

Forget the Fallen, who were desperate enough to attack and almost overrun the Last City no less than two times. Who were forever the antithesis to the Guardians of the City. Who's cleverness had seen the crisis of SIVA and the Scorn.

Remember that the humanity's greatest foe always lies within.

Remember Dredgen Yor. Remember the ones who turned their guns against their fellow lightbearers.

Remember the Warlords. Remember the ones who took their light and used it to terrorize those weaker than them.

Dance and dance and dance.

Dancing into the night.

A break in the encroaching darkness to have an impromptu dance party in the hangar.

A sea of armored guardians, flowing capes and robes and marks all congregated below the Dead Orbit ships, dancing to the tune or off the tune.

Arach Jalaal watched in distaste, his peace and quiet disturbed by the raucous music and the laughter of guardians.

But dancing was one of the few ways guardians could find to enjoy themselves. They could dance anytime, in between missions, breaking out into their moves on patrol, or even gloating over a particularly satisfying kill.

...except this time, almost every available guardian had been contacted and called back to the Tower.

Eventually, the party trickled out of the hangar, one by one.

Via conga line.

Leading the way was a particularly large-shouldered titan, waving his arms in the air in some semblance of a rhythm.

Up the stairs they went, heading out of the hangar, picking up a far too enthusiastic Cayde with them, Amanda watching with amusement.

“Let’s give a blueberry the time of his life!” He announced to the procession of dancing guardians. His hands were propped on his hips in a hero pose.

At the whoops and cheers of the crowd, the Hunter Vanguard twirled around and raised Colonel over his head, starting the chant with a “BAWK!”.

“Conga conga conga! Conga conga conga!”

When they reached open air, a few guardians who had just arrived from their ships jumped right into the conga line, those already in the line making gaps for the arrivals to fill in. It got messy around there, but they soon sorted themselves out and straightened to point towards one person on the Tower.

Zavala.

Kadi 55-30 and Tess watched on with amusement but made no move to join. Tess did bob along, chanting the words as well.

“Conga conga conga! Conga conga conga!”

Nearing Zavala, the chant grew steadily louder and louder until it filled the air and drifted down towards the city so that those on their roofs could hear the distantly ominous chants of “CONGA CONGA CONGA!”

So loud it was that Zavala, who could usually only be disturbed by the Tower collapsing again, turned to see…

Cayde with Colonel held over his head, thrusting said chicken side to side (carefully) to the deafening chants of “CONGA CONGA CONGA!” and behind him a never-ending line of dancing guardians, some of which had ended up on top of each other.

His eyes widened infinitesimally in horror as they came upon him like a pack of warhounds.

Like a wave and led by Cayde, the guardians swept Zavala into their crowd, forgoing their usual respect by firmly but gently shoving him in line, taking up their chant of “CONGA CONGA CONGA! CONGA CONGA CONGA!”

Cayde may have tried to rope Shaxx into it.

Even the tallest titan in the group did not dare voice their support.

Undaunted, they swept Rahool into their fold, then made their way to the Bazaar. Definitely not to attempt to rope Ikora into it. Definitely not.

They passed the spicy ramen shop, at which Cayde shot finger guns at, placing Colonel square on top of his head to free his hands.

To everyone’s everlasting surprise, Ikora easily weaved into their procession with only a smirk and a witty remark the majority of the crowd did not catch. Cayde, however, was seen howling with laughter and dragging Colonel in a dramatic waltz with glee.

His impromptu dance, however, also brought the entire crowd of guardians into a waltz. Warlock and titan, hunter and warlock, no discrimination was made in the choosing of partners, it was simply grabbing the closest person next to you and dragging them into a twirl and a dip. Laughter flowed freely from the Bazaar as even the civilians joined in, twirling and weaving with the armored titans, getting tangled in the capes of hunters and being lifted by the light of the warlocks.

Cayde (and in part Ikora) even dragged Zavala into a three-way waltz of sorts, though at this point there was less waltzing and more of simply partner dancing, twirling around and around and around.

No worries of the war, of Cabal invasion, of the coming Darkness.

Only the joy and laughter of companionship.

“Has anyone seen Cayde today?”

Jekyll-1 shook his head, “Nope. Didn’t see him last night either.”

Seven-11 frowned, gazing at the empty spot in the Hangar, “Did Zavala let him leave the Tower?”

“He’s been leaving for a while,” Jekyll shrugged his shoulders, a lightness in his figure, “though...I think it’s more Cayde not actually telling Zavala he’s leaving.”

“Perks of having a damn station in the Hangar,” Seven muttered, gazing at the jumpships coming in and out.

NK sighed long-sufferingly, straightening, “Let’s just find him before he gets into trouble.”

“How would we do that?” Seven grumbled. “Cayde could be pulling a Rasputin and being anywhere and everywhere at once. His ol’ warmind self has awoken, finally got his true fucking potential, yadayadayada,” he said sarcastically, leaning against some crates stacked randomly in front of Cayde’s station.

“Maybe Nessa will know?” NK suggested flatly.

“Who?”

“Nessa-7.”

“Helpful. Reaaaal fuckin’ helpful, NK.”

“She’s one of Cayde’s closest friends,” Seven explained, “She’s been around for longer than I remember, if anyone knows where Cayde went, it’s her.”

“How come the two of you know who the hell this lady is and I don’t?”

“She wasn’t really active during the Red War,” Seven shrugged, “So she just never came up.”

“Alright, so…” Jekyll glanced around as if he would find Nessa hiding in the shadows somewhere, “Where the fuck do we find her?”

“...”

“Fuck.”

“You don’t fucking know?” Jekyll groaned dramatically, “Seven, surely you know where the hell you find these people?”

“Nessa could be anywhere, for all the shit we know,” Seven-11 glowered, “Besides, I never really interacted with her. She’s more of a loner than I am, to my knowledge.’

“Real fuckin’ great. We’ve officially lost a vanguard and an old ass lady.”

...They found the two, in the end.

Cayde, with a bullet hole in his chest.

And Nessa, who turned out to be another hunter, with her face hidden in the shadow of her hood, holding his dead body reverently from her ship.

She was there for the funeral. There when his casket was open to all to pay their respects. Just as a silent shadow that nobody dared approach, with the waves and waves of discord and grief cascading off her.

Then she was gone.

Jekyll, nosy as ever, overheard two awoken, a warlock and a titan, talk about her in hushed voices, though he caught nothing but her name. Just whisper on the wind.

Leaving nothing but a curious fireteam, wondering what had happened out there in the Reef.

“Cayde!” His voice was hoarse from repeating the same words over and over in the thick smoke. “Andal! Where are you idiots?”

They’d been separated during the attack. The scorch cannons were...unexpected. As a result, here Tevis was, a lone nightstalker human trying to find his idiot friends who were probably still in the Lost Sector.

...which was burning, judging by the smoke steadily billowing out of the top of the building. Hell, it might even collapse soon.

There was still no sign of the other two hunters.

Tevis groaned to himself, reloading his scout rifle, “Guess I have to go back in, here goes fucking nothin’.”

Crouching low and with his helmet back over his face, Tevis was, for the most part, out of the smoke. Not out of danger yet, though. “Artemis, try the comms again,” he whispered as the void embraced him with its usual whispers and he shadestepped into another room.

“Contacting Andal and Cayde...nothing but static. I’ll keep at.”

Tevis sighed, tuning out the incessant voices of the void, “Any suggestions?”

“Uh...shoot some cabal.”

“...That’s as good of an objective as any, I suppose.” Tevis cracked his knuckles, “Let’s light this popsicle stand.”

“Get tethered motherfuckers!” Tevis cackled as he released his shadowshot, creating a mini-void in the middle of the room. The hive mindlessly wandering stumbled as the void snatched them up, overwhelming them with the combined voices of everyone who had ever whispered into it.

It was a simple task to blow their heads ceiling high after that.

“..evis? Tevis, come in.”

“It’s Andal!” Artemis exclaimed in surprise, “Guess the cabal had some sort of jammer or something.”

“Andal! Thank the Traveler, I was starting to think you’d died to some lowly hive shit for a second.” Despite his joking words, Tevis felt his body, tensed since they had lost contact, weaken in relief.

“Ha, it’ll take more than a simple Lost Sector to take me out,” Andal’s words were breathless, “But Cayde’s my bigger worry now.”

“Why?” Tevis straightened, seriousess returning to his voice, “What happened?”

“His thick skull hit a corner, one of the wizards got to him.” Andal reported, “They’re all dead, of course-”

Tevis got the impression that the whole room was sparking with arc blade slashes.

“-but our newest addition isn’t waking up.” He finished.

Tevis let his hood and helmet transmat away, his hand coming up to mess with his ginger waves, “Uuuhhh alright. I’ll be right there. Artemis, set a waypoint at their signal.”

“Marked.”

“How bad is it?”

Andal looked up as Tevis entered the room, reloading his scout rifle. “He’s woken up, once. Passed out again almost immediately.”

“Can’t Sundance heal him?”

“She has. He had a dent in the back of his head that got fixed, but…”

Sundance materialized over Cayde, “Physically, he’s all good. His mind...it’s a mess. It’s like his memories are all overlapping and mixing and just being really weird.”

Andal frowned and reached out to slap the exo, “Oi, wake up.”

Cayde shot straight up.

“Holy fuck!” Tevis swore, startled by Cayde’s sudden movement.

“Hey, Cayde. Buddy. Do you remember anything? How’s your head?”

Cayde blinked. Once. Twice. “...I….you…”

“Who am I? Say my name.”

“A…” his glowing eyes narrowed.

“C’mon bud. Just my name,” Andal encouraged.

“I...I don’t know…”