Rust and Water: Part 18 - Bad Influences

Part 18: Bad Influences --- “You understand what this will involve?” “I do.” “Look, kid.” He set his drink on the table. “I know I’ve asked a lot of you over the decades, and you’ve always delivered, but this is…after what happened on Mare Imbrium…” “I’ve always trusted in your decisions, sir.” He winced at the title and her teeth flashed white in the darkness beneath her glowing silver eyes, a quick, grim smile. “Guardian…” Now it was her turn to wince. “Once you start there’s no turning back. You need to be all in on this.” The glowing silver disappeared briefly as she closed her eyes. When they opened again he could see the resolve shining within, as he knew there would be. “I understand, sir.” “You know I hate it when you call me that.” “Then you shouldn’t have accepted the Hunter bet, sir.” She pointed out archly. “Timetable?” “As soon as seems feasible. This is a long term assignment.” He told her. “But not tonight. Tonight we dance.” He stood and offered her his hand in a flamboyant gesture of chivalry. She choked on her drink. “C’mon, kid!” he cajoled. “Don’t leave me standing here like this. It’s embarrassing!” He waggled his fingers at her, “How else am I going to make Zavala jealous?” Her amused expression flickered and he silently cursed himself. But she simply saluted him with her drink before downing it and thumping the empty glass down on the table. She grabbed his hand and let him tow her out onto the dance floor. Laughter erupted as he dipped her and they whirled into the crowd. “And just so you know, Andal.” She told him later when they dropped breathless back into their chairs. “It would take more than a dance or two to make Zavala jealous.” “Oh?” “And that was [i]not[/i] a challenge.” --- “Did you have an entertaining evening?” Zavala asked, his dark eyebrows climbing his forehead when Alia stumbled through the door of their shared housing in the Tower some hours later. Between his duties and hers there was often only evidence of the other’s presence so she was beyond pleased to find him rather than remnants of his passing through She murmured an assent and draped her arms over his shoulders where he sat in his armchair. “You‘re inebriated.” “Bad influences.” She mumbled, snuggling closer against his solid chest. He quickly moved the book he had been reading to safety as she curled bonelessly into his lap. “I see.” “Don’t be disappointed in me.” She whispered against his throat. “I am not disappointed.” He told her, wrapping his arms around her and standing, lifting her. “Let’s get you to bed.” “Love you.” “I know.” She watched him with close, almost unsettling attention as he helped her out of her clothes and tucked her under a crocheted blanket he had made. “Read me something?” She asked from her pillow, “Until I can fall asleep.” “Of course.” He smoothed a stray lock of hair away from her eyes. “I was just in the middle of a rather intriguing volume of pre-golden age romantic poetry, shall I…?” “That sounds perfect.” --- “You’ve been distant lately. Is all well?’ She gave him a tired smile and touched his face. “It will be soon, I hope.” --- “What have you done?‘ She couldn’t answer. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, pain skating across vivid turquoise irises. Her compatriots stood around her in various poses of defeat or defiance. He did not seem to see them, his focus solely on her, the bedraggled hair, the blood smeared across her cheek, stripped of weapons and dignity. She kept her face expressionless, her eyes cool, showing nothing. “How could you betray everything we stand for? The Speaker, the Traveler? The people of the City?” He swept his arm towards the sleeping orb, clearly visible from the top of the tower where they stood. Representatives of New Monarchy stood with him, grim judgment in their stances, the way they held their weapons at ready. He strode up to her. “Betray [i]me[/i]?” He whispered so low that she didn’t think even those standing clustered with her could hear. His whole stance screamed ‘why?’ His eyes begged her to tell him that he was mistaken. She couldn’t answer. She was all in. ---- “I’m getting you out of here.” She didn’t answer, arms wrapped around her legs, cheek resting on her knees. A click as the lock disengaged and a cloaked figure stepped inside. “Come on. I didn’t get you into this to have you banished to some barren moon.” She didn’t look at him. “Alia!” “The others?” She asked, not lifting her head. “We got most of them, as far as we can tell. But there are still supporters out there, and…” He hesitated, not wanting to impart this news, but knowing he must, “And Lysander. If they knew your role…” Andal shoved his fingers through his hair, dislodging his hood. “Toby, help me out here.” Her ghost flared into existence, his light subdued. “Guardian…” He began gently. “We’ll be of no help to anyone if we don’t take his offer.” “I’ve got your gear stashed.” Andal said. “You’ll just need to lay low for a while until I get everything sorted out.” Slowly she uncurled herself, moving as if her whole body ached. When she looked at him he nearly recoiled, so devoid of expression was her face, her silver eyes cool steel. “Where?” He slung her cloak around her shoulders when she reached the doorway. She seemed to revive somewhat under its comforting weight. “Old Chicago.” He told her as they slipped out into the night. “When this all blows over I’ll come for you.” His hand briefly clasped her shoulder, so bare and thin without her armor. “I promise.” --- “What do you mean she’s gone?” Zavala snapped. Andal spread his hands, “Slipped out, vanished.” He made a poofing gesture with his fingers. “She was always a clever one.” Zavala turned and strode to the windows at the back of the Vanguard hall. Andal took the opportunity to let his expression slip, allowing the regret to paint lines of age on his ageless face, grateful that at the moment it was just the two of them. Zavala truly had loved her, and the pain he was feeling was palpable. Centuries together overturned, all because of his orders and her sense of duty. Perhaps he should confide in the Titan, let him know that it was all a ruse. He shook his head. If he did that Zavala would be intent on exonerating her and bringing her back into the fold, putting her life in terrible danger. Perhaps after Lysander was dealt with… “We must find her. Under ones such as she and Lysander the Concordat could rise to untold power. It’s a threat we cannot ignore.” Andal felt his face blanch. This was not… Well, perhaps he could still salvage the situation, keep her safe from the people she loved. “I’ll take care of it personally.” He told the Titan mentor, his voice carefully free of the sympathy and horror he felt on his behalf. This must be tearing him apart. Zavala turned, his eyes unable to hide the naked pain that he would not allow to show on his face. “See that you do.” --- Table of Contents: https://www.bungie.net/en/Clan/Post/1371758/226526566/0/0