Scorned (Rainbow Six Siege Fanfiction)

*under revision* Small Victories

"Gunnar, you ready?" Ritual runs her palm along the counter as she walks towards him, brushing his back as she goes past.

"You bet." He chuckles. Quickly, he grabs his weapons and follows her out onto the snow. It's a beautiful day; the air is crisp and the breeze is light without a cloud in sight. The sun beams down onto their helmets.

"I had to train the others how to be shields because they weren't already." Ritual loads up her chalk gun as Gunnar rests against his beaten black shield. "But you are. I want to see what you've got." She gestures, assuming a fighting stance before starting to circle him like a vulture. His gaze follows her every move down to the nerve. He inches closer to her, standing up as he approaches so that his shield stays level. Ritual hits his shield, pushing him a bit.

"Don't stand there watching me, show me what you can do!" She orders, words echoing as she presses up close and kicks his shield again. He pushes it forward, tipping her over. The woman quickly recovers in a swift spinning motion, springing back up and taking a few shots at the shield before moving to reach his side. Gunnar pulls his pistol and tags her, making her step back. He places the shield between them both once more.

"Got you." He teases her before charging at her. Ritual ducks out of the way, sliding behind him on the surface of the snow. With a small brace to stop herself, she pounces and grabs Gunnar under her arm.

"No, I've got you." She lightly taps his nose with the suppressor of her gun. "You've got some sweet moves." She compliments, letting him go. "But we aren't here to play tag. Treat it like it's real."

Gunnar braces himself once more. The woman walks towards him with both pistols trained on him, slowly circling. She had this certain weight to all of her movements where she could bend her enemies into the exact position she wanted them. Gunnar doesn't to succumb to it, which sent her mind racing to find a memory.

"You. You're the White Shield." She pointed to the man with her pistol, bracing the crude metal shield before him. He walked in a slow circle with her, staring her down knowingly. She pressed toward him, hoping that she'd intimidate him into bending like the others. And yet, he never did. He stood straight and firm, even pressing back. The other White Masks watched silently, waiting for the man to finish her for them as they rushed to construct the bombs.

"You die here, Rainbow." He suddenly charged toward her, slamming her into the wall. She pushed him away, kicking his shield from his hands and engaging him with her fists. The fight was convincing. For just a moment she hesitated, losing herself in his gaze as she sat on top of him. He winced and flipped on her, pinning her down and pointing the loaded gun at her chest.

"Kámá?" His call pierced her focus. "You alright?"

"W-What?" She stammers and shakes her head. "Yeah."

"Why'd you stop?" He lowers the shield, concerned eyes observing her through his helmet.

"It's nothing." She dismisses. Gunnar grips his shield tighter and pushes slowly towards her, eyes fixed on her hands. To his surprise, she backs up. The two go back and forth for a moment before Ritual decides to take it into her own hands. She breaks his guard, sending his shield out of the way. The man quickly turns so that he can control the shield with the motion. He blocks her shots and spins completely around, back to looking at her through the shield again. Ritual scoffs in amusement--It reminded her of herself long ago. "Good." She advances.

Gunnar backs up when she does, taking the opportunity to aim. He fires a few shots, one of them hitting Ritual in the arm. She winces but quickly shakes it off and shoots back, making Gunnar cover himself. Going for the final blow, Ritual raises her foot to kick his shield. Gunnar braces himself, but instead of pushing her with the shield, he quickly slings it onto his back and grabs her leg instead. The woman falls hard, looking around in a daze and gasping for air.