Crochet Class: Tenth Stitch

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Alia smiled into the bracing wind, using her cloak as a blanket to keep out the worst of the chill. “I wouldn’t know.” Herro called out from somewhere below her. She knelt to peer over the edge. “Of all people I thought [i]you’d[/i] be the first one to the top.” “Not my fault.” Herro huffed. “You…uff…pushed me.” “I was nowhere near you.” She grinned. “Watch that next jump, it’s a little…” “Shit!” Guardian down. She snorted with laughter. Ghosty popped into existence, concentrated, and Herro reappeared further down the mountain. “Damn it!” “How you doing, Knight?” she called. “Hunters suck and I hate mountains.” He griped from a considerable distance away. “Why are we doing this, again?” She shrugged. “For the challenge?” She called down. “Screw that!” He roared, even as he kept climbing. Herro heaved himself over the edge of the topmost outcropping, spared just enough energy to fix her with an accusing glare before flopping down on his back and fixing his electric blue eyes on the sky. “Hey, you made it.” “Not…another…word.” He panted. She shook her head and walked over to give him a hand up. He allowed her to tow him to his feet with bad grace before fixing his gaze on the horizon. “Nice.” He admitted grudgingly. She shrugged before pointing back the way he had come. “Cute.” He rolled his eyes. “He was right behind me. And since when do you listen to me?” She shrugged again before taking a seat beside the fire. The sun was just touching the horizon when Knight floated up, stumbling a bit on the edge of the rock before throwing himself forward. “Either of you mention the word ‘floof’ and I’ll throw you off the edge.” He warned, picking himself up and dusting the snow off his robes. “I wasn’t going to say it.” Herro smirked. Alia fixed him with an innocent look and raised her hands. Herro glared. “You can talk now.” “You managed to get Alia to stop talking and now you’re taking it back? What’d I miss?” The Warlock asked. Alia punched him lightly in the arm. “Picture time!” She announced, surreptitiously rubbing her fingers. “Toby?” The ghost materialized. He had been a lot more cheerful since she’d gotten him the new shell from the Iron Banner. ‘Dashing’ was more acceptable than ‘charming’, apparently. “All right, guys. Let’s gather by the fire.” Fireteam Minotaur settled themselves near the edge, Felwinter Range stretching out behind them, outlined by the setting sun. “Smile, everybody.” Alia announced. Toby flashed. “I think I blinked.” Herro complained. --- “The door. I have to…” “I’m sorry, what did you say?” Zavala looked up from his current project. Alia’s eyes were fixed on her crochet hook as she looped and yarned over, working on her latest project. She glanced up for just a moment. “I just realized what she said.” “I apologize.” Zavala commented, “I’m afraid I don’t follow.” The Hunter pulled out another measure of yarn. “In the replication chamber. When…” She swallowed. “When we woke those poor souls twisted by SIVA, I heard a voice.” Zavala gently reached out and touched her knee. “They were no longer who they had once been, Alia.” “Maybe.” She shook her head. “I hope so. But I know what I heard. It was a woman’s voice. She said, ‘the door, I have to…’” “Are you saying…?” “After all that time, Jolder was still trying to seal the door, to save Saladin, to save us all.” “Perhaps it was just a memory, a remnant.” Alia turned her crochet and started another row. “I wonder…” “Yes?” “Did Lord Saladin ever speak to you about Jolder, about any of the Iron Lords?” “No.” Zavala said thoughtfully, taking a moment to sip from the cup of tea on the table at his elbow. “His past was a sealed book until SIVA reemerged.” “I think he loved her.” She murmured. “When I handed him her helmet. The look in his eyes…” She looked up. “It was so painful, and so [i]beautiful[/i] at the same time.” Zavala set down his crochet and held out his hand. She smiled and twined her fingers with his. “Love is very like that, I’ve found.” He murmured. “Well said.” --- “Something’s worrying you. More than usual, I mean." Zavala looked up to see Alia settling herself on the edge of his worktable. With a single gesture he activated the display he had been poring over. Alia examined the map of the Cosmodrome, brows drawn together. “What am I looking at here?” “All the places that the fallen houses were occupying.” She nodded. “Okay. Wait…” The furrow returned. “You said, ‘were occupying.’ Are you saying they’ve gone?” She rested her hands on the table, leaning forward to study the map more closely. “This is a map of all recent recorded fallen activity.” He waved his hand and another map overlaid the first. “There’s nothing there.” She looked up at him. “Something doesn’t feel right.” “The data says something isn’t right.” He corrected. She rolled her eyes at him, but nodded. “Reports have been coming in. The fallen have abandoned their territories; we’ve found their banners burned.” She leaned back, fussing with the edges of her cloak, a sure sign that she was nervous. “The implications are…” “This could either be good or very [i]very[/i] bad.” She murmured. He smiled slightly. “Not exactly how I would have put it. But succinct, nonetheless.” She looked at him searchingly. “That’s not all, is it?” Zavala shut off the display and walked around the table to take a seat on one of the couches. She settled in next to him and he wrapped an arm around her waist. Alia leaned her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes. “There is...a feeling in the air. Like a storm is approaching.” “Any data to back it up?” She asked, half-teasingly, before she sighed. “No, I’m sorry. I understand what you’re saying.” She covered the clenched hand on his knee with her own. Slowly it relaxed and their fingers entwined. “I’m glad you’re here.” He told her softly. She raised their entwined hands and pressed his to her cheek. “So am I.” She murmured. --- Final Knot: https://www.bungie.net/en/Clan/Post/1371758/226373715/0/0 Master List: https://www.bungie.net/en/Clan/Post/1371758/226373948/0/0