Chapter Text
"What sort of game does Shaxx think he's playing?" Zavala cannot help the quiet question that slips past his lips as he wanders seldom used passages of the Tower. He hesitates to call it a grumble because that reflects a level of almost childish discontent…and yet Zavala cannot escape the knowledge that, not only was that statement delivered in a true grumble, but that he has caught himself grumbling the better part of the morning. But how else is the Titan Vanguard to react to the absolutely petty nonsense that is Lord Shaxx’s proposal for the total banishment of Lord Saladin? The two Titans aren’t necessarily required to be bosom buddies- and they likely never will be again, not after Twilight Gap- but that doesn’t mean the Crucible Handler can stand before the entirety of the Consensus and call for action that shows division among Guardians. Of course Zavala had stood on his former mentor’s behalf. Lord Saladin is as vital to creating generations of strong guardians as Shaxx, after all. The following debate had taken the better part of the Consensus meeting before being tabled in favor of more pressing discussions. Even with theoretical crises diverted, Zavala fears siding with his old teacher may have already caused the beginning of another rift; a rift between Shaxx and Zavala.
Zavala has heard it both whispered and boasted that he is made of steel. Steel may be known for its strength but it can corrode when faced with an onslaught of the elements. In the wake of their most recent loss, the strange normalcy of life as a Vanguard is only now beginning to reassert itself but Zavala cannot deny this most recent incident with Shaxx is the thing that really has him flaking around the edges. It’s a delicate balance to maintain between the factions, the Vanguard, and city officials. If Shaxx is going to take this disagreement at the Consensus meeting personally, it could disrupt military proceedings on a grand scale and endanger the City's safety. A fully-grown Cabal couldn't lean on Zavala quite so heavily.
Ikora would have been a welcome addition to the meeting with her intolerance of nonsense and talk so straight the edges of a monologue could cut but she had agreed to stay in the Tower and run the daily affairs. As for Cayde-6, Zavala knew better than to bother extending an invitation to the new Hunter Vanguard for what the Exo would surely deem an agonizingly boring waste of time. It's true that Zavala does not know the Exo well. The Hunter's appointment to Vanguard is fairly recent and has only come about due to the sudden and regrettable loss of Andal Brask, but Zavala is nearly convinced that wanderlust and tomfoolery are the things that rule Cayde-6's behavior. No, better for Zavala to act as the Vanguard's sole representative and suffer the bureaucratic drudgery of Consensus meetings alone than to drag a kicking and screaming Cayde-6 into the mix.
Ikora had asked Zavala, upon his return from the meeting, if he was ill. But when Zavala had answered in negative, she did not continue to mother him…despite the fact they both knew Zavala hadn’t given the whole truth. Not that further coddling was either a habit of Ikora’s or a viable solution. There is no cure for what Zavala has. The creeping corrosion of his patience, his spirit, can only be delayed with battle plans or shunted aside by actions. But there are no grave campaigns to be plotted today and this is why he finds himself taking an angry walk about the Tower after only giving Ikora the briefest request to call him if anything world-shattering develops.
The shutters are down until the next time Lord Saladin returns to preside over the Iron Banner- barring the way into the Traveler’s Walk via the open stairs beyond the bounty board, but there are many ways to get around that the average Guardian may never be privy to. Zavala takes one such secret route through dim service tunnels and emerges into the open air where only Lord Saladin (and once in a great while, Petra Venj) claims a space. Already the fresh breeze has lifted Zavala’s spirits. There’s something freeing about being out of the Hall of Guardians, something relieving about being beyond the weight of expectations and utterly alone.
Until he realizes that he isn’t.
A single figure is already stretched out on the white tile floor near the rear railing, sniper rifle almost doubling his length. A familiar black and red cape settles over his back, only barely catching in the wind. It's the same Andal wears...wore. The sight hits Zavala a bit harder today than it might any other.
“Cayde-6! What are you doing out here?”
The Exo raises a single leather-encased hand in an irritating command for silence before pointedly tapping the air next to his sniper rifle. “I’m taking a walk in the woods, obviously.”
It takes the Titan Vanguard a moment to truly catch the meaning. When he does, he tries not to scoff at the absurdity of it.
“That’s…” Zavala wants to say ‘sad’ but settles for, “…unorthodox.”
This isn’t even the first time Zavala has witnessed the new Hunter Vanguard staring out over the trees and mountains beyond the Tower with the aid of a long-range scope. He’d always assumed the Exo was checking for holes in the perimeter defenses. But the use of a deadly weapon to ‘take a walk’ is far more like the Cade-6 that Zavala is coming to know; the Cayde-6 who engages in word games with Ikora Rey even though all previous attempts point to him losing, the Cayde-6 who once held Master Rahool’s microscope ransom and backed up engram decryption for hours, the Cayde-6 who throws himself into full-on prank wars with Amanda Holliday until Arach Jalaal storms into the Hall of Guardians to demand ceasefires. The mandatory confinement to the Tower that comes with the position of Vanguard has been taxing to all who grace the position at some point or other. Of the three current Vanguard, Cayde-6 has unarguably been hit the hardest. And Zavala isn’t sure how much ‘grace’ Cayde-6 may have had to begin with.
Zavala, however, did not choose the isolation of the Traveler’s Walk to think about the Vanguard’s most outgoing member. “I was hoping to be alone up here, Cayde-6.”
“Yeah?” The Exo mumbles distractedly. He still hasn’t taken his eyes off his scope. “Well, come join me in the woods. Pretty quiet there. And you can drop the '6' part. Most Exos prefer not to use the number. Grab a spot on the tile, Zavala! Should be funny to see the Titan Vanguard crawling around on his belly with a rifle.”
Zavala’s composure disintegrates like a Thrall caught under a Fist of Havoc. “Forget it! I will seek what I need elsewhere!”
“Whoah!” Cayde-6 finally tears his gaze away from the woods and even rolls onto his side, the arm not supporting his gun drifting up in an almost helpless seeming shrug. “Hey, hey! Easy there. What’s got a rock like you crumbling at the base?”
Despite the teasing words, the Hunter’s tone carries a surprisingly sincere wish to know that has Zavala dragging his feet to a stop. Though the way the Hunter then summons the Awoken male, head tilted expectantly and fingers curling in a 'come here' motion, is enough to pull Zavala’s face down in a hard scowl. Andal may have gotten away with such familiarity but just barely.
“Seriously,” Cayde-6 continues with a hint of plea that’s probably amusement in disguise. “I know it sounds stupid, but this is about as close to freedom as it gets. Come join me.”
“No,” Zavala growls. A growl, he swears, not a grumble. And certainly not a pout. Cayde-6 knows nothing but jokes and Zavala is in no mood to be made fun of so the Titan turns to exit the way he came.
Zavala’s hand rests on the hidden latch for the door the same moment the distinct thwoom of a discharged sniper round reaches his ears. The door sparks and Zavala jerks away in surprise. On the tail of surprise…rage. “Are you insane?”
The Titan Vanguard whirls around to find Cayde-6 standing and shrugging near the balcony, sniper rifle secured in both hands but blessedly pointing at the floor now. The Exo has the nerve to be cheeky. “Got your attention.”
“And what if you’d missed?” Zavala demands as he stalks across the way with every intention of jerking that rifle right out of mechanical hands.
“Oh,” Cayde-6 chuckles with a certainty that boils Zavala’s blood, “I never miss.”
“I suppose ricochet never occurred to you. I’m not wearing a helmet!”
“Which gives a nice, clear view of that vein throbbing in your forehead.”
Most Guardians would have the sense to back down with a Titan and a Commander barreling down on them but Cayde-6 apparently possesses none of that sense and remains right where he is as more than six feet of angry Awoken leans into the Exo's personal space.
“You could have killed me!”
“Your Ghost would have brought you back,” the Exo points out blithely, his glowing eyes only appearing brighter in Zavala's shadow.
“This is not another one of your games!” Zavala makes a grab for the sniper rifle but the Exo pulls it quickly out of range and shields the weapon with his body.
“Careful!” The Hunter Vanguard squawks, half surprise and half reprimand. “Wouldn’t want this puppy to go off again.”
“You have more ammo in there? Guardians are not to expel live rounds on the Tower, Cayde-6! That shouldn’t even be loaded,” Zavala snarls as he makes another measured but insistent grab for the weapon.
"I told you to drop the number!"
With a dramatic flair, Cayde-6 twists from Zavala and tosses his rifle into the air where it dissolves in a crackle of blue light- instantly transmatted far away by the Ghost that appeared just as suddenly over the Hunter’s shoulder. The display is as impressive as it is infuriatingly childish! Cayde's Ghost disappears into safety before the Titan Vanguard can demand it turn over the offending weapon. Just because the rifle is gone, does not mean this confrontation is over. Zavala only now realizes his hand has wrapped around the Exo's leather-clad bicep and the Titan shakes it furiously.
“This is absolutely no way for a Vanguard to act! We don’t get to run around shirking duties and breaking rules. We cannot give or receive special treatment. We are to be above the influence of others, dedicated to the consideration of the greater good. Do you understand that this is a serious position with serious expectations and consequences? Every civilian in the City and every Guardian in this system is counting on us to be paragons who do not know what it means to fall!”
Cayde-6’s own hand wraps around Zavala’s arm in a mirror stance but the Exo’s grip is not crushing in the way Zavala knows his own to be. The Hunter squeezes just once- barely noticeable through the Titan’s thick, red bodysuit.
“Yeah,” Cayde-6 whispers in a way that forces Zavala to really listen or miss it entirely over the rush of blood in his ears, “that’s a lot to put on any one person.”
Zavala flinches when he searches and finds nothing but sincerity in the grim, straight set of the Exo’s faceplates. He thinks he knows enough of the mechanical beings to even read amusement in the bright, backlit eyes but there is none of that either.
“That’s why there’re three of us, Zavala. And the fact that I don't want to be here, doesn't mean I want to be bad at my job. So try inviting me to the next meeting, alright?"
Shame burns through Zavala and he withdraws his hand from Cayde-6 as if scalded by cool leather. He has lost more of himself than he thought to allow such an outburst. “That was…I apologize. I should not have…”
Zavala gestures vaguely to Cayde-6’s person but cannot quite meet the Exo’s gaze. To physically attack another Guardian outside the agreement of the Crucible is an unforgivable lapse of control and one Zavala had not considered himself capable of since putting the arena behind him.
“Trust me, Big Guy,” the Hunter pats the oversized shoulder guard on the Titan’s left arm- cheekily familiar yet still distant enough to resemble something like decorum, “I let you have that one. If I wasn’t ok with being touched, then you wouldn’t have come close.”
Despite the disgrace of his earlier lapse in composure, Zavala’s back straightens at Cayde-6’s boast. Hunters may be more agile by nature but Zavala has ended many a Bladedancer's spree in the Crucible with nothing but his fists and concentration of Light. But before Zavala can open his mouth in some half-considered retort, the Hunter Vanguard breaks the moment with an exaggerated stretch and a disappointed sigh.
“Space is yours,” Cayde-6 calls over his shoulder as he beats a leisurely retreat for the same secret door Zavala used. “Let me know when you’re ready to talk about all that junk that’s bothering you. Could stand to unload a little myself. But you strike me as a guy who could use some distance right now and Ikora’s probably wondering what’s taking me so long to get her drink. She strikes me as the 'silent but wildly impatient' type.”
Zavala nods slowly but the move has very little to do with the assessment of the Warlock Vanguard and he finds his spirits light enough to offer something like a joke. “You're new and she likes you. Better pick up the pace unless you want to see how she treats those who dare disappoint her.”
Cayde-6 offers a salute, perfectly executed and still somehow mockingly casual, before offering a respectful goodbye. "Commander."
"Vanguard," Zavala returns and finds the word is not as bitter as it might have been only moments before. Maybe there is something yet to discover in the new Hunter Vanguard.