In Vesrah, Deanna uses up the last of the yarn from Catlyn's. The ocean water ruined too much of what she hadn't used already; it seems it lacked whatever magical protections kept their store-bought garments wearable. But she's salvaged what she could, and tonight, thanks to the kindness of the Water Ashari, they are able to rest in safe quarters, even in proper beds.
They ended up taking two rooms. Chetney and Fearne were quick to invite her into theirs, and maybe on another night (if they don't die tomorrow), she'll even say yes. But what they've got to offer is very much not what Deanna wants tonight. What she wants tonight is to rest, and to knit, and to have FRIDA near her. And she got it, if only because FRIDA didn't want to be parted from her tonight either. Or from Fresh Cut Grass, so the three of them are in one room, and Imogen joined her other companions.
Fresh Cut Grass was all worried about being there and in the way, which he wasn't. At least until they spent too long trying to get Deanna to talk about her feelings, and at the moment she doesn't want to have any breakdowns around anyone besides FRIDA. Which she thought they realized, because they actually suggested Fresh Cut Grass go have a little talk with their other friends, and that gave her time enough to cry a ridiculous amount in her friend's arms.
He's back, and the two of them are snuggling and maybe quietly talking a few feet away from her. Deanna is sitting and knitting.
Knitting's always been a comfort for her. From the time she learned how from her sister and first got her hands on her own yarn, knitting's been a constant, something she knows how to do. Two hundred years could pass without the basics of knitting changing too much, even when so much else has. (Although there are apparently some fancy contraptions somewhere in the world that do it for you, but that Deanna can ignore.) Even now, when she can't even rely on keeping all her new powers, so long as she's still got her fingers and they're in good shape, the gods and their ilk can't take her ability to knit away from her.
Also, she has to concentrate while knitting. Which means she doesn't need to think about the likely imminent end of the world. Or that tomorrow morning they're going to try teleporting out again, and if it goes as badly as the last one did, they probably can't survive that a second time; they were extremely lucky they did once. Or just how close to drowning Chetney especially came, even in semi-wolf form. Or that they still don't know how much the prolonged salt water exposure damaged FRIDA and Fresh Cut Grass. When her needles click together, it blocks out the faint creaking each of them still makes whenever they move.
The surviving yarn is in three different colors. There's the richest, deepest maroon Deanna's ever worked with, an vibrant emerald green, and a pale, dusty coral pink. Combined, there's just enough for a shawl that cover a good deal of Imogen's shoulders. She's the only one of her new friends Deanna hasn't made anything for yet, so she wants to make her this. The color combination isn't ideal, but she can make it work.
She considered making gloves, but she's not sure Imogen would like trying to cast her spells through them. Also, they're going to a hot continent, the one where Imogen had lived in her entire life, and Deanna imagines she'd prefer to settle down in once her adventures are over, so gloves aren't going to be much use to her. The shawl she's making can also be used to shield her skin from the sun, if it needs to be. She hopes.
(Another thing she is refusing to think about is whether they'll live to see even this adventure end, let alone any later ones.)
It may not have been the first time Deanna's been in a hot climate, but hearing descriptions of Marquesian weather is still enough to daunt her a bit. She'd even seriously worry how FRIDA would fare if Fresh Cut Grass hadn't seemed to have done all right there.
Any hopes she had of taking being whisked off to a different part of the world in stride, because she had, after all, already been displaced far more than anyone who remained in a single time period could be, hadn't survived nearly drowning from the teleportation gone wrong. And at least when she returned to Uthodern, there were the parts of it that had been there back when she'd died. Vesrah's unlike anything she's ever seen. Fearne's talked about how it was like and unlike Zepyrah, the other Ashari settlement she's seen, but that's just made Deanna even more aware of how big the world is, this place they're trying so crazily to save, and she's telling herself they'll save it, but she doesn't know how, not really.
Near her, she hears FRIDA whispering, "I think he's gone into stasis." She looks over to see them, tenderly cradling the smaller robot and shifting him into their lap as they prepare to go into stasis as well.
Love has seemed so easy for them so far, though it's still so early on. Deanna hopes it continues like that, honestly. They could all use something easy right now.
But then they look at her, and stand up, still holding Fresh Cut Grass close, then sit down on the bed and extend their arm, providing a perfect opportunity for her to snuggle under it.
It's been a while since the two of them have done that, and Deanna especially wasn't sure about it in a climate this hot. But now she happily takes the opportunity, scooting back into them, and resuming her knitting while pressed into them, the hum of their body reassuring even as they sink into stasis. Between that and the shawl forming nicely beneath her needles, she almost feels as if everything could be all right again.