In the distance, obscured by the clouds and dust of the Reef, the sun was hanging faintly. Variks watched it closely, eyes slitted against the weak glare. It was time to settle down for the night. He could feel it in his bones, and in his arms especially.

On a planet, he thought wearily, and with some detached amusement, the sun would tell him when to sleep. He'd never been on a planet; before he became part of the Reef, he lived on a Ketch, where he struggled to remain unseen. To keep Eliksni together. He grinned a grin that may have been a grimace.

He began to gather his things. He was more tired than he thought. His eyes were drooping, and he almost missed Petra as she strode as quiet as the Black from behind him.

"Done for the night, Variks?" she asked. He didn't turn, but could tell her arms were crossed, and one hand was resting softly on the hilt of her knife, fingers curled slightly around it.

"Yess," he said in English. "Going to sleep, soon. Slow day, today. Guardians are slow to visit, now that Taken King has come."

"That beast is no king," Petra said sharply. The knife, he knew, would be partially out, but it would slide back in its sheath before long. It always did.

"No. He is a king. A cruel one, yess, and one without wisdom, but a king… nonetheless. I have experience with royalty who abuse their power."

Perhaps it would have been wiser to keep his mouth shut, because now he could feel the knife even further out, Petra's eyes burning coldly behind it. Finally, he turned to face her.

She was worse than he remembered. Her eyes were tired, but her mouth was set. The knife was exactly where he imagined.

"That thing killed our Queen," she hissed. "It does not deserve the name."

"I apologize."

Petra regarded him for a moment, and then put the knife away, like she'd never noticed it was out. "No need," she said. Her eyes still burned.

She nodded at him once, and turned to leave.

Variks did not know what made him call out to her, but he felt, in some way, that he must. "Petra."

At first the Awoken didn't slow, but came to a halt almost as if she'd never been walking at all. "Variks."

"Perhaps we could talk? I could… walk with you."

Petra tensed. He could feel from all the way over here. The hand on the knife again. "I don't want to talk."

To you, Variks heard, but he ignored it. "Talk is good. We have not talked since Saturn, yess? We can talk about Taken, if you like. Or Guardians, and revenge."

Petra did not respond, but allowed her hand to fall away. Variks joined her as slowly as he could.

They set off down the Vestian Outpost. Within the great grey building, somewhere, was Petra's bed. Variks had always been curious. As they walked, the guards standing faithfully by kept a wary eye on the Fallen, tightening their hold on their weapons much more obviously than Petra did. Variks did not mind. House Judgment was used to suspicion in dark times.

"Oryx has been slain." Petra was the first to speak, which surprised Variks, but did not displease him. "By a Guardian. His taint is gone forever."

"That is… good."

"Yes. I would have liked to-" She stopped abruptly, deep in thought. Variks didn't press.

"Have you word from the City?" Variks asked. "They fight the Taken now, yess?"

"Not much," she said shortly. "They're busy now, I suppose. Some Guardians still come, but they don't talk about… that. Or much at all, really."

There was silence for a few steps. Variks felt his limp now worse than usual. His good hand clenched his staff tightly, and his other good hand did the same, clutching something invisible. He hoped Petra wouldn't notice.

"You rule the Reef now, yess?"

Petra frowned. "I am regent. Until…"

Another pause. Variks knew the drill. "You are doing an… admirable job. For the… circumstances."

Petra sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "Variks, do you miss her?"

Silence, again. They had slowed to a halt, which Variks didn't notice until it was already upon them.

"Miss…?"

"Don't- don't do that," Petra said, voice shaking barely enough to be perceptible.

"I do miss her," Variks said. "She… showed me mercy. Where before I had been shown none." He paused, and relaxed his grip on his staff. "I still do not know why. Perhaps she thought I was… useful. Perhaps she… liked me. I owe her a great debt."

To Variks' surprise, Petra let out a small giggle. "Yeah," she said. "A lot of people owed her. Not always something good, though." Another giggle.

Variks started to snort, and then he was laughing, too. It was to his great shock that humans (and Awoken, and the machines that think like them) laughed like Eliksni, although he supposed that that went both ways. Perhaps that was why he couldn't stand for the deaths of their innocent, why Skolas was nothing to him but cruelty and death. Regardless, he didn't know why he was laughing now. There was nothing to laugh about. Laughter was the last thing he'd expected from this conversation.

But it felt… good.

The guards were watching them, he knew. He didn't care. The more Petra laughed, the more he laughed, and the more she laughed, until his stomach hurt and he felt even more exhausted than he did before and his eyes clenched against the bright glow of the dust in the distance and he relaxed his grip on his staff until it clattered to the floor.

His eyes followed it, but before he could retrieve it, Petra bent down to grab it.

"Here," she said, laughter dying off. Now she looked tired, but less somber. Her face was in a light grin that made her look older than she was. He wondered how he looked to her.

"Thank you," he said, taking it.

For a while, they both looked out at the debris field. Variks wondered if it was growing larger, or if it was just a figment of his imagination.

"By the Nines, I miss her," Petra said quietly. He didn't turn to face her.

"Yess," he said finally, lowly. "Yess."

Seconds passed. He counted them.

"Well," Petra said, rubbing her arms. "I should go to bed. So should you."

Variks inclined his head. "We have much work to do. Tomorrow."

Petra smiled. "Yes. We do. Goodnight, Variks."

"Goodnight, Petraa."

She walked away, and soon vanished into the sliver bulkhead of the Vestian Outpost, where she had a bed, far away from the Queen's old chambers.

Variks turned and his way back to his tent. The guards did not watch him now that there was nothing to harm. He did not turn to face the debris field as he made his way inside this time, but simply drew aside the curtain and crawled in.

Inside, the Elder Cipher waited. He would probably have to replenish his ether before long, but for now, he would sleep. Still, he cradled it in his hands for a few seconds, and thought about House Judgment, and the Reef, and Petra and the Queen and the Lord of Crows, and how if Mara Sov could really fall as easily as she did, Skolas would have been lucky indeed.

He put it down, and laid next to it. House Judgment would come later. For now, he could sleep, and in the morning, he and Petra had work to do.

Hey all! Just a couple notes about this fic.

Sorry it's kinda short; I wrote it partially as a way for me to get back into the groove of writing, and partially as an elegy for Mara Sov (RIP )(Or is she?) and belated celebration of the Taken King.

Yeah, I know the spoiler mark in the description might have been unnecessary, since if you're reading Destiny fanfiction in the middle of October you probably know how TTK ended, but, you know, better safe than sorry.

As for Fallen laughing like humans, that's a bit of creative license on my part. I know it's unconfirmed (and might be officially debunked later, who knows) but, you know.

Lastly, I do not own Destiny. It would be cool if I did, though.

That's all… I think. Have a great day!