Work Text:
Afternoon sunlight slipping through arrow slits highlighted the smooth shapes of flagstones in the floor, their illuminated edges laid out like interlocked dragon's teeth. Past finely threaded vines and old moth-eaten tapestries, two guardians made their way down the dimly lit passageway toward their destination. They were invited to this fortress by the order that called it home, and it was obvious that they had worked hard to maintain it. Just as Mo had described, the weather was fair enough that the air inside was downright comfortable… Leagues nicer than the drafty storage room that the two had made home in over the past six months. Yhrih wasn’t one for enclosed spaces though, and a chill ran through her as soon as she laid eyes on one of the clan’s marks: a sprawling black and white banner, adorned with a black heart, that hung from somewhere in the doorway just ahead of them. Beside her, her wife Imogen tried her best to comfort her. Her short hair tickled the awoken’s face as the titan planted a gentle kiss on her cheek.
Yhrih wrung her hands, whispering, “Oh, heart of mine, I don’t think I belong here.”
Imogen sighed. “You’ll be fine. We have plenty of friends here. Trust me.” She gently pressed her hand to the small of her wife’s back to encourage her onward.
A grand threshold soon stood directly in front of the pair with its doors slightly ajar, bathing them in warm light. Mirthful banter could be heard within, echoing off the walls. Mo already had one hand on the door, ready to swing it open. Yhrih stalled, eyes wide.
“Please.” Imogen pleaded, a note of disappointment forming in her voice.
If she needed any more convincing, then this wasn’t going to go to plan. Though she would never leverage a wish on her partner, Mo was mentally preparing herself to return to that freezing storage room on Europa if her wife truly wouldn’t stay here. Yhrih sensed her partner’s will wavering. She considered pressing the titan’s intentions, the gap between what was and what could be, for just a morsel… Then shook her head as the smell of meat and potatoes enticed her to step through the door.
Beyond the threshold was a large room and a modest congregation of guardians, with one familiar face among them: an iridescent black exo that did their best approximation of a happy expression as the two caught each other’s attention.
“Fermata!” she called; a broad smile formed on her lips.
“Yhrih, it’s good to see you!” Fermata-11 broke from the assembly to offer their friend a handshake, but the awoken pulled them into a hug instead.
“It’s been ages! You look… well, rested.” She pulled away to inspect the party’s offerings. Hot stew, warm bread, and beautiful fruits were laid out freshly atop a long table that looked positively ancient by comparison. “Is this why Mo keeps begging me to come out here?”
Fermata shrugged, “I told the Knights that you were looking for a place to call home.” They pointed their chin towards the banquet. “Sit down for a meal with us.”
Imogen grabbed the two and pulled them into a proper titan hug. “C’mon you big bucket of bolts, can’t the official talk wait a few minutes?” she set them down. “There’s so much catching up to do.”
It was the exo’s turn to laugh, digital and mechanical though they sounded, it was genuine. “If you’re staying here, we’ll have way more than just a few minutes to catch up.”