Crochet Class: Sixth Stitch

“New report from Fireteam Minotaur, Commander.” Zavala accepted the missive from the messenger frame. “Thank you.“ The Commander accepted the memory chit and passed it to his ghost to scan. Almost instantaneously the encrypted text flashed to his hologaphic tab. He had been keeping close tabs on Minotaur’s progress, as had they all. The script was quickly transcribed and he flipped his hand to transfer the new data to the other mentors’ tabs. :Transcript as follows: Minotaur reporting Associated - Knight-12 - designation; Warlock - Herro-7 - designation; Hunter - Alia Tev - designation; Hunter Associated - [i]Luna; Hellmouth; Crota; Eris Morn[/i] K-12: [i]Missive to the Vanguard[/i]- We will shortly be moving into the final phase of our offensive. The hope is that the Hive prince will be sufficiently weakened by our previous actions. Hunter Alia has recruited a second fireteam to assist. :Addendum: Associated - May Bae - designation; Titan - Star-19 - designation; Warlock - Xavier Rain - designation; Titan K-12: Regardless of the outcome please make a note of their bravery in accompanying us on this mission. Fortunately to this point casualties have been within acceptable limits and with ghost assistance we have reached what seems to be the final barrier to our destination. Further communications would be unwise. Radio silence from this point on will be maintained. :[i]aside[/i]: What, Alia? No. This is hardly necessary. Hey! AT: Oh, just let me do it. Move over. Hi, Commander. Two things. One; did you know crochet hooks make for a handy weapon in a pinch? And two; do you think you could pick a new one out for me? I think you’ll know what I like. K-1: If you’re finished. Yes? No, Herro, you can’t leave a message. I don’t care if it’s not fair. Light be with us all. Guardian out. :end transcription: “Bit of an odd turn at the end there.” Cayde commented, trying and failing to keep the amusement from his voice. Zavala cleared his throat. “That aside, there is nothing we can do at this point besides wait.” “And pick out a new crochet hook, apparently.” Ikora added, a small smile curving her mouth. Zavala treated them both to a glare before calling the meeting adjourned. --- Orange chromed metal. Alia held her new crochet hook up to the light streaming in the window of the quarters she shared with her fireteam. It glinted in a pleasing way, reminding her of a sunset before a storm. It was exactly what she would have chosen for herself if she’d known where to procure a hook on her own. She wasn’t sure what had led her to make the odd request of the Commander. At the time it had been something of a whim. But now she had an inkling that it was more than that. Maybe she had just wanted to have a connection, even while in the middle of the Hellmouth, or wherever they had actually ended up. Perhaps she had wanted to know someone would be thinking of her while she was in that blasted place. Someone anticipating her return. The acknowledgement that she would return. A plan for the future that, at that moment, had seemed so uncertain. So that she would have something more than duty to the light to return to. Was it selfish? Perhaps. She turned the hook in her fingers. She definitely wouldn’t be leaving this one embedded in an acolyte’s eye socket, even if retrieval was a messy business all round. He had been waiting for her at the appointed lesson time. He hadn’t smiled, just handed her the hook. It had been enough. So much more than enough. He had been certain, or at least hopeful enough of her eventual return that he had found a crochet hook that suited her perfectly. The realization had nearly brought her to tears, and she was glad she had had her hood up to hide her fatigue bruised eyes. She yawned, stopping herself midway through. So tired, but afraid to sleep. The Hellmouth had affected all of them in different ways. But she wondered if the fact that she was awoken had made her more susceptible. The whispers hadn’t stopped. They invaded her dreams, making her shun sleep even when she was so tired that she could hardly aim. It was good that her fireteam had been given leave for a few weeks to recover, though Herro was already champing at the bit. Unless she could figure out how to sleep again she would fast become a liability. And that she could never accept. --- Zavala glanced over the heads of his new students, checking on the single occupant in the back of the room. Something about her stillness bothered him. Perhaps because it wasn’t her usual watchful stillness, but one that spoke more of a bone deep fatigue. He could understand that, given the events of the past month. That she had shown up on consecutive lesson days had been an unexpected surprise. And an unexpectedly pleasant one, he’d had to admit, if only to himself. It had given him a warm feeling to watch her using the hook he had chosen for her, nearly as warm as the one that had overcome him when, upon its presentation, she had given him a dazzling smile of thanks. “Commander, I think I need to see that one more time, sir.” Yue called his attention back. “Of course,” He replied. “Now where’s the trouble?” He spent the rest of the lesson giving one on one attention to each student as they required. It was still a small turn out but there had been no more Hunters, or Warlocks for that matter, since Alia had dashed through his door. One unique Hunter. His internal sense of time told him that it was time for the lesson to end, a glance at the clock confirmed it. He concluded the lesson with his usual admonitions and began to clean up as the students filed out. All but Alia. He set down the yarn he had been gathering and cautiously approached her chair. He managed to not show his surprise when her ghost popped into sight when he was a few feet away. The Commander stopped and cocked an inquisitive eyebrow. “Commander.” It bobbed its respect. Zavala responded with a diffident nod to the pink ghost. “Commander, I have a request.” It said quietly. Zavala glanced at the cloak wrapped figure before gesturing the ghost to continue. “Please, let her sleep.” The ghost bobbed again, this time twisting nervously. Zavala’s brow furrowed. “She’s exhausted, and I am…concerned for her.” The ghost continued talking as Zavala approached the figure and reached out a hand to gently pull the hood back from her face. Even in sleep there was a crease between those silver brows with their orange accents. She stirred slightly, eyelids framed by darker circles fluttering. A piece of her hair was caught between her lashes. He reached out to free it and she turned her head, snuggling her cheek against his palm. The Commander froze. Her ghost popped into his field of vision. “I think she feels safe enough to sleep here, with you.” “I cannot stand here like this.” Zavala growled. Her eyelashes fluttered against his thumb and he was trying not to think about the softness of her cheek against his calloused palm. She gave a contented little sigh and he capitulated. “Ghost, I require a chair, a table, my tab and the papers on my worktable.” The ghost spun in relief. “Thank you, Commander.” He whispered before dashing off to retrieve the items Zavala requested. --- Seventh Stitch: https://www.bungie.net/en/Clan/Post/1371758/226371526/0/0 Master List: https://www.bungie.net/en/Clan/Post/1371758/226373948/0/0