Scorned (Rainbow Six Siege Fanfiction)

*under revision* Favors

"Hey," Ritual comes out from her loft. Her stern gaze softens as she eyes down the man she was searching for. "Vyacheslav. I need you."

"Da, mem," he stands up, turning to face her. Obeying the hand gesture she gives him, he follows her to the locker room.

"Alright, grab your pistol and take this shield." Ritual says, presenting it to him. She rests her hands loosely on top of it. His eyes scan the beaten black shield curiously.

"Why is so damaged?" He asks, looking up at her.

"It was mine once upon a time." Ritual touches the bullet dents tenderly. "Which is your dominant hand?"

"I shoot with right." Vyacheslav finishes lacing his boots, watching as she detaches the handle and switches it to the other side. "Are you sure about this?" He asks her in Russian, taking the shield and feeling it in his hands. It was light but very small.

"Of course." She stands up, gesturing for him to follow as they go through the garage and onto the range, enjoying the sun beaming through the cold and lighting up the hard ground dusted in snow and chalk alike. Light reflects against the black shield and reveals every scuff and mark.

"Now..." Ritual stands behind Vyacheslav, tapping his back. "Loosen up a little and hold the shield in front of you. Line up the frame of the window with the your goggles, then tilt your head down and look straight through." Vyacheslav obediently sets his legs apart and holds the shield tightly, then taking a deep breath and loosening his shoulders. "Grab your gun and draw. Get used to turning the shield and bringing your arm over it until it feels natural." She orders. He aims down at the snow covered targets in front of the mountain side. Ritual watches him do this a few more times, occasionally stepping in to adjust his stance. "Now light them up."

Vyacheslav does the same thing, shooting the targets with good accuracy. She could sense that there was more to bring out of him, so she presses her chest to his back. He seems surprised by the gesture, watching curiously as she places her hand under his arm.

"You feel that?" She asks, her heartbeat faint against his back. He nods, listening. "Good. I want you to trust your instincts. You don't have to be afraid to fail. Fire when you feel is right."

"I don't want to disappoint you." He says softly. Something was heavy on his heart.

"You won't, Vyacheslav." She assures him, waiting. After a moment, he puts a round in each of the targets in tune with their heartbeat.

"You're doing great," she encourages, letting go. "You're doing just fine. Hipfire." Ritual orders. Vyacheslav puts his arm back with just his gun over the shield. He fires the rest of his mag, mostly missing. "See how much harder that is?"

"Yeah. Can barely hit." Vyacheslav sniffles in the cold air and reloads.

"Stand a little closer." She orders. The Russian man steps forward and starts shooting again, hitting the target a lot more accurately.

"See?" Ritual comes over to him. "That is for very close quarters. Don't risk your head unless you're too far away to hipfire. Speaking of which..." She steps in front of him and puts her fists up. "The most important part of a shield is knowing where you're covered. Close up, that matters more than anything." She says, gesturing to come closer. The man takes a few more steps and crouches so the shield covers most of his body. "Look me in the eyes and follow me." Ritual walks around him in a circle, watching him turn to follow her gaze. She takes a fake step, which makes him do a double take and stop. "Good." The woman pulls her knife and lunges on the side of the shield. The two completely stop moving.

"Woah," Vyacheslav looks at her through the window of his shield. "I imagine that's not good."

"No." Ritual chuckles, backing up. "That's where you need to learn to cover yourself. Fortunately for you, I don't think it's because you haven't learned yet. That shield is very small."