Disclaimer: I do not own Destiny or any part of the franchise; all rights and ownership belong to Bungie.

A/N: After having an extensive and HIGHLY amusing conversation with a dear friend of mine, this story took shape. It did not take long for either of us to run with it. LOL

The theme is built around the "Day 2: Thin Ice" Destcember 2020 prompt and parodies the "12 Days of Christmas" song. Cross posted from my Ao3 account: ProphetessMinty.

The Guardian named "Roman" is an OC of mine from a current project I'm working on called "A Different Morn". If you haven't read it and you completely enjoy this story, then feel free to check it out as it contains the same flavors and undertones.

Enjoy!

~ProphetessMinty

Triumvirate Recourse

On Europa's glacial winds, songs of Dawning cheer danced over Elisabeth Bray as she stared blankly at her clear-glass data pad. She would have hummed with the nearby music had she been not so distracted, but Elsie could not help it. There were more pressing matters on her heart and mind that had plagued her for some time now. No amount of caroling bells or glad tidings could fix the longing that had lodged inside her soul. What was the point of celebrating the Dawning without her loved one?

Exhaling a synthesized sigh, Elsie swiped at the glass.

-December 2, XXXX-

-11:58 AM-

-Inbox/Empty/NoNewMessages-

She would refresh the application throughout the day, foolishly hoping for a message that did not come. Though her mechanical facial expressions may have denoted a stoic composure, Elsie was nothing short of a hot mess inside. It had been a little over two weeks since she last heard from her sister—Ana. Perhaps, she had been a little too hopeful? Things were a little strained after their unorthodox reunion in this timeline, but Elsie full-heartedly believed they could rekindle their sisterhood.

Even if it took baby steps.

Anything was possible really, and with help from The Guardian, the Exo's mind gave way to the expansion of many optimistic probabilities. Especially since she and Ana had agreed in BrayTech Exoscience, under the Giant Exo Head of Clovis I's consciousness, to lay aside their frustrations. They would fight the Darkness together using Stasis as sisters—Bray sisters—and there was nothing more delicious than to give their grandfather a taste of his own bitter medicine after years of wreaking havoc.

On the world.

On them.

In Elisabeth's starlight peripheries, she could see the firepit as it lazily crackled, barely managing to stay aflame as its fuel source began to dwindle to meager embers. Sighing, despite the lack of organic lungs, Elsie got up and tossed on some more logs. Making sure to provide smaller bits of kindling for the fire to feed on, she poked and smoothed the crimson embers until the fire was just right. Noting that all was well, Elsie sat back down with legs crossed and brought the data pad into her lap.

"Come on, Elsie. No better time than the present, yeah?" she surmised internally.

Pausing for a second more, Elisabeth waggled a hesitant finger over the screen before swiping downward.

-December 2, XXXX-

-12:03 PM-

-Inbox/Empty/NoNewMessages-

Wishful thinking always carried a hefty price—disappointment.

Bowing her head, she erupted with a frustrated growl and tossed the tech in her hands like a Frisbee. Her starlight eyes watched as it dematerialized in a cloud of sapphire data, slightly disappointed not to see it shatter into a million pieces. Smacking the nearby radio, she grumpily cranked the dial, and crossed her arms. Closing her eyes, or rather—as her optical components turned off—Elsie focused on the sounds of music.

Playing currently was an instrument called a "piano". Not only was it an acoustic keyboard instrument, but it was also stringed.

Elsie pretended to mentally to play along, imagining her hands dance across the various porcelain and black keys as she depressed them. As their hammers struck the chords, developing a patterned harmonic symphony, she thought back to the day she first heard it. Memorizing the name and who wrote it as it turned into her and Ana's favorite. It was a rendition of a Pre-Golden Age classic, written by Russian composer—Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky—called the "Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy".

As the song faded out and Elsie felt the tension inside her ease up, that was when she heard her companions yelling. Inside the pop-up tent. Again. It seemed to be the norm between the Drifter and Eris these days. Her only wish was that the two of them would learn to solve their issues—more like lovers' quarrel—and get on friendlier terms. It would make things more…tolerable.

The Exo shook her head, shoving her thoughts on the situation aside, cranking up the volume several decibels as the next song began to play.

On the first day of Dawning my Traveler gave to me

A seed of the Silver Wing Tree

Elisabeth smacked at the radio forthwith, greatly confounded by the music. These lyrics could not possibly be right as they were the tune to…oh never mind. Their meanings were amusing enough. Each reality had its own unique differences, right? This one was only a drop in the bucket anyhow.

On the second day of Dawning my Traveler gave to me

Two Lonesome Doves

And a seed of the Silver Wing Tree

As the yelling grew louder, Elsie held her hands over the place where her ears would have been. Suddenly, the irony of perspective hit her and the problems she had faced seemed to melt away. If she could hear these crazy people from out here, then surely there were far greater problems than the lack of email traffic. With an exaggerated heave, the Exo let her arms drop as she realized how grey and dingy the outdoors had become. Looking overhead with an inquisitive glance, Elisabeth observed the darkening clouds as they hurtled together in thick droves full of foreboding.

Just when the voices in the tent seemed like they could not get any louder, Elsie watched the doors to the tent open allowing her companions to egress from its shelter. Crossing her arms, Elsie averted her starlight gaze toward the crackling fire. Their voices were loud and full of wanton fighting. Whatever had happened to upset them both, Elsie wanted no part of it. Yet, here she was, about to be in the middle of it.

On the third day of Dawning my Traveler gave to me

Three Colonel Hens

Two Lonesome Doves

And a seed of the Silver Wing Tree

"I'm always walkin' on thin ice with you, ain't I, Moondust?" the Drifter asked, trailing behind a Huntress dressed to the gills in dense, chitinous robes.

If Elsie had eyes, then she would have rolled them.

Eris groused, "I do not think you understand. Long ago, you plunged beneath the ice and into the chilled waters of my apathetic distrust."

On the fourth day of Dawning my Traveler gave to me

Four Fallen Dregs

Three Colonel Hens

Two Lonesome Doves

And a seed of the Silver Wing Tree

Swiping a defeated hand over his face, the rogue lightbearer heaved a heavy sigh. With sagging shoulders, he asked, "Was that a joke? Yer' jokin', right?

"Hardly," Eris glowered.

"Why am I always the bad guy?" The Drifter asked before plopping down into the snow. Immediately, he regretted his decision and jumped back onto his feet. Without a word, he walked to a nearby stack of trunks and leaned against them with arms crossed. "And after all that I've done for ya' too."

"Can you guys please be quiet?" Elsie pleaded. "I'm trying to listen—"

On the fifth day of Dawning my Traveler gave to me

Five of Swords

Four Fallen Dregs

Three Colonel Hens

—

"'After all you have done'?" Eris questioned. "Interfering with outbound communications is hardly something praiseworthy. Much less is it honorable."

"Excuse me? I didn't interfere," the Drifter denied, suddenly flabbergasted. "I may do those things from time-to-time to enhance the benefit of certain opportunities, but not this time. It wasn't like it was a part of some nefarious plan. Yer' thinkin' too highly of yerself, Three-Eyes." With a humorless chuckle, he added, "And trust me. If I wanted ya' dead in the ice, then there'd be no mistakin' it."

"Then what explanation can you possibly contribute to this discussion that would encourage my understanding? Hmm?" Eris demanded.

"Oh, just shut it already," Elsie groaned, raking a hand down her face. "It's only noon."

"Stay out of this!" Drifter and Eris yelled in unison.

On the sixth day of Dawning my Traveler gave to me

Six campers camping

—

"Honestly, what is your guys' problem? Roll out the wrong side of the cot this morning, yeah?" Elsie clapped back. Jumping up to her feet, she felt an ember of provocation ignite within her soul. Clenching her fists, she jabbed an exoskeletal finger at them. "For better or for worse, we're a team whether you like it or not. This explosive romanticism—or whatever it is between you—has got to end or so help me!"

"I beg your pardon, 'explosive romanticism'? Eris deadpanned, unsure of what to think.

"Whatcha gonna do? Turn this makeshift basecamp around and go where?" Drifter flung his arms out wide with a frustrated sweeping gesture. The Rogue jabbed at the air, returning the same expression back on Elsie. "We're stuck in this dead, forsaken wasteland sippin' on ice cubes because a' you."

"Because of me?" Elisabeth questioned, putting a hand over her chest. "Let's get one thing straight, shall we? I called you both here because it was do or die. The Darkness is making its play while we are here researching on how to use their power against them. Secondly, no one is keeping you here."

"Indeed," Eris agreed. The Huntress knelt down and extended her hands, warming them with the heat of the fire. "Perhaps, we have allowed our attention to wander a mite too far. Apathy chills the bones."

Elsie took a step back and heard the snow crunch under the weight of her feet. Placing a hand on her hip, she sighed out her frustrations while glancing at the frozen tundra. "Look, I know things have been difficult these past few weeks. All of us left things behind. But what we do now, unequivocally affects our tomorrow...our future."

On the seventh day of Dawning my Traveler gave to me

Seven Snowballs Freezing

—

"Blah, blah, blah. Enough of this 'in my timeline' crap," the Drifter complained, extracting a toothpick from the folds of his robes. "Tell us how you really feel, Ice Queen. Otherwise, our slot for 'Doomsday Prophet' is already booked up." As he said this, he jabbed a thumb toward Eris. Putting the pick into his mouth, the Rogue crossed his arms. "Ya' think yer' hot stuff, prancing around all mysterious and jaded like? Yer' a dime o' dozen. There's plenty like ya' out there."

Cocking her hips, Elsie placed her fists on her hips, and said, "What, like you?"

Drifter launched forward, drawing his hand cannon—Trust—when Eris appeared inexplicably ahead of him. She was half-in and half-out of a conjured portal, holding his hand down.

"Enough," Eris commanded, her tone resolute but soft. The Drifter's dark eyes flicked from Eris to Elsie for a moment before he holstered his gun and stepped back. The Huntress withdrew herself from the rift, planting both feet in the snow before turning to find Elisabeth about an arms-length away. Unsure of what to do, she mustered a little light into the palm of her hand.

"I've had about enough of you and your bad-boy tantrums. Staring off wistfully into the Europan sunset like some self-obsessed, rugged rebel with a story to tell," Elsie yelled frantically. "I am up to my head in stress! This is the one time of year that I stop looking at the timeline—worrying about the fate of the world—sit down and listen to music! So do my auxiliary components a favor, and either: quit your yapping; or go elsewhere if you are going to carry on like an old married couple!"

Eris took several steps back, glaring offendedly as she said, "This truly is the dark age once more, if you accuse me of such trivial pursuits!"

"Well ain't you two just a couple a' rays of sunshine?" Drifter scoffed while snatching the do-rag from his head and tossing it into the snow.

On the eighth day of Dawning my Traveler gave to me

Eight Vex A-Milking

—

"If I had known that either of you would have added to my collective misery, then I never would have asked you here!" Elisabeth yelled, pulling the hood of her cloak down.

"This is why solitude is the perfect solace," Eris expressed with a sigh.

The vagabond laughed, "We called women-hermits 'Nuns' in the Pre-Golden Age era. You're old and crotchety like one too!"

"I do not blame Eris one bit," Elsie retorted, "You follow her around like a dog begging for crumbs."

"Silence!" Eris commanded as a burst of energy rippled across the snowy surface. Angrily she asked, "Do my ears deceive me? Why do I serve as a target for your malicious recourse? I am no leftover morsel for a mangy mutt!" As soon as the Huntress spoke the words, she felt instant regret and looked away.

"Alright, that's it. I'm outta here. I may be a few things, but mangy ain't one of em'," the Drifter snapped as he turned to walk away. "Ya' can kiss this sorry operation goodbye, Ice Queen. Three-Eyes."

"Come back here!" Elisabeth barked. "I'm not finished with you—either of you—yet! You're on thin ice, you insufferable misfits!"

Stopping dead in his tracks, the Drifter yelled, "Them is fightin' words. Wanna bet on it?

On the ninth day of Dawning my Traveler gave to me

Nine Voidlight Crystals

—

"I have journeyed across time and space, do you really think I would place a wager so lightly?" Elsie snapped frostily.

"Excuse me, ya' oversized maintenance frame!" The Rogue whipped back around and shot a glare at the Exo. "I've got more weapons in my arsenal than you've tasted food in the last several hundred years. Try me, Sweetheart! I ain't easy!"

"That statement is highly arguable," Eris interjected, "seeing as Guardians strut out of your quarters at all hours of the night."

"Excuse me?!" Elsie and the Drifter roared in unison.

Eris shrugged nonchalantly, "We are hurtling dirt clods at one another, are we not? I have indeed supplied ammunition sufficient enough to get 'down and dirty' as they say."

"Well aren't you cute, Three-Eyes?" The Drifter chastised. "The bookworm has learned a new trick. And by the way, it's called 'flingin' dirt'."

"Don't you dare patronize her!" Elsie barked.

"What if I do?" the Rogue asked, leaning forward. "What are ya' gonna do about it?"

Elsie felt as cold as winter and as vengeful as a blizzard. Though she had no words left to speak, vexation cutting off all intellectual reasoning, the Exo clenched her fists. She could feel the power of Stasis shaking her metal hands, while compacting growing layers of frozen fractals. Without any hesitation, she threw it as hard as she could at the Drifter's head and watched as the snowball burst across the center of his face.

On the tenth day of Dawning my Traveler gave to me

Ten Warlocks Blinking

—

Suddenly, everything went very wrong.

(Earlier)

Up in Charon's Crossing, a Wraith and his ghost crossed over the threshold of the new outpost. The place was jam packed with other Lightbearers, all in a tizzy to speak with Variks. The Hunter walked forward taking great care to maneuver between the idle Guardians and those leaving. As he did, his presence seemed to garner attention from several egressing patrons.

Suddenly the place erupted in whispers and many "that's him" comments.

The Wraith felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him and for once, he was glad to be hidden behind his helmet.

"You're popular today, Roman," Ghost commented over private channels.

"Mhmm," The Guardian replied.

Once he successfully made it to the cybernetic Eliksni's side, the room had mostly quieted, but several of the visitors gaped silently instead. Roman told himself to simply ignore the feelings of self-consciousness; he was here for a purpose. That purpose was the blue box in his hands that smelled of—

"Etheric Coldsnaps, yes?" Variks asked in excited anticipation, instantly ending his current conversation with the Warlock in front of him. The Wraith nodded respectfully and offered the gift. Just as the Eliksni received the Dawning confections, a tremor shook the building causing all of its occupants to wobble in place until the quake passed.

"What was that?" Ghost wondered aloud as he materialized between them. "Seismic activity, here, on Europa?"

"It is not a…natural…disturbance, yes?" Variks explained, his mandibles clicking with thoughtfulness.

"What does that mean?" Ghost asked, hoping for clarification.

"Our neighbors to the south have been isolated too long. Their patience retreats like thin ice in the sun, yes?" the Eliksni clicked.

Ghost turned to his Lightbearer, bobbing in the air with uncertainty. "That can't be good."

Roman nodded his agreement as he turned to leave.

"Guardian," Variks called, his voice clicking differently than before. The sound was soft and chittery, maybe excitable?

The Wraith stopped in his tracks and threw an inquisitive glance over his shoulder.

Variks bowed his head, "Many thanks for these treats and great tidings."

"You're welcome, Variks. Enjoy," Roman answered.

The Guardian set out to find his idle sparrow, the most unorthodox and festively, bodacious ride around. As his eyes set upon a sleigh ride hauling a cart full of glimmer, he found the most unexpected surprise waiting for him. Sitting on the sparrow's flank with her legs crossed while tossing a knife up into the air was Ana Bray. Just as she snatched the tool out of the air, she lightly smiled before tossing the blade up into the air once more.

"Got your message," Ana said with a serene expression. "Do you really think she wants to see me? I haven't heard a word from her since...well...you know when."

"Yes, absolutely," Ghost chimed in. "She talks about you quite frequently when we aren't working to thwart the Darkness."

Ana snatched the knife as it descended and stowed it in her thigh holster. Giving her lip a quick bite, her almond eyes belaying a subtle hint of nervousness, she nodded. "Okay, let's do this. No better time than the present, right?"

"Did you bring the comm equipment?" Roman asked.

"Yeah, I brought the tech. You should know by now that I always come prepared," Ana cheeked.

The Guardian chuckled lightly, "When you're not frazzled with your build-a-boyfriend that is."

Ana blushed defensively, "Big Red is not my boyfriend!"

Roman held up his hands playfully, and said, "Alright, I give."

With a dramatically offended snub, Ana put her nose up at him. "We're on talking terms anyhow," she jokingly corrected.

"And the truth finally comes out," he teased as he hopped onto his sparrow. "Might want to hold on.

"I'm a Bray," Ana quipped, jumping to her feet atop the pile of glimmer. "Why hang on when I can ride in style?"

Roman shot a glance over his shoulder before shaking his head. "Daredevil."

"Nah, just Bray-ve," she winked.

Together they raced along the glacial pass that would lead them down into the Beyond-lands. As they approached base camp, the duo stopped short as they beheld a concerning sight. Icy, blue shards riddled the field; densely stacked and obstructing the view of the pop-up tent. Roman and Ana quickly exchanged terrified looks.

Perhaps, the camp had been ambushed by a swarm of angry Fallen?

Maybe, somehow, the Vex slipped past all the fireteams actively patrolling Europa?

How could this have happened?

Wasting no more time, Roman revved the throttle and boosted ahead. The closer they got, the louder it got. The Guardian coasted to a sliding stop in front of a long wall of ice and hopped off leaving the sparrow to idle. Ana followed suit. Running along the outside of the wall until its end, the two of them dodged through the opening and came to kneel, guns at the ready.

On the eleventh day of Dawning my Traveler gave to me

Eleven Hunters Dodging

—

As they scoped out the area, nothing stirred save for three snow-dusted individuals that sat up from the mound of snowdrift they were partially buried under.

"I hate you," Elsie huffed, folding her arms.

"Yer' only sayin' that because I won," the Drifter said with a smug grin.

"I loathe both of you equally," Eris groused, "However, this match was a draw."

Lowering his weapon, Roman found Ana stowing her long scout rifle—Polaris Lance—onto her back. The stoic expression she wore soon melted away into amusement and she stifled a bubbly laugh.

"No wonder Elsie hasn't answered me all these weeks," Ana chortled, "How could she when she's been having these intense snowball fights?" Shaking her head, she nervously admitted, "I thought maybe she was shutting me out again. Stupid of me, wasn't it?"

Roman nudged her with his elbow, "Don't overthink this. Go."

Ana nodded and started to walk forward, but paused as she said, "I hate that you've seen us at our worst, but...it's been a good thing. For Elsie and I. Thanks. For everything and the sleigh ride."

The Guardian threw a hand forward, "Go on. Enough with the sap."

Roman watched after the Gunslinger, witnessing Ana epically tackling her sister—Elsie—back down into the snow. As the two rolled around, the Wraith hesitated as his eyes caught sight of the Drifter and Eris sitting side-by-side as they watched after the Bray sisters. A bolt of uncertainty shot through him, leaving behind a numbing mixture of jealousy and nervousness.

"Just like you told Ana, don't overthink it," Ghost gently reminded.

"What if she choose—," Roman began to say.

"Don't speak for Eris on this, Guardian," Ghost chided. "As we both have come to know...not everything is as it seems."

"She never gave me an answer about us," he said, glancing away.

Ghost sighed, "I think you'll find she didn't need to." Moments before the channel muted, the specter advised, "Look alive!"

"Roman?" Eris called. The Guardian looked up and found her standing before him. She was about several feet away, appearing hesitant as she swayed. From what he could tell, she seemed unsure that she could step forward. "I have strived to reach you these past few weeks, but...it seems my communications were not received."

"No, they were not," he said, holding out a hand. As he did, a small antenna materialized in his open palm, appearing in a small cloud of sapphire data. "That's why I brought this. I think your relay might be broken. Ana brought extra supplies just in case anything else was damaged."

"Hmm...," she said, "Come along." The two walked to the back of the tent and found a scorched panel with a piece of dead Shank lodged into it. "Perhaps, Drifter was telling the truth all along. I believed him to be an interfering culprit as I sent word to you many a time with no reply. This could have been damaged from the previous attack, elicited by the late-Kell, Eramis."

Frowning, she looked to Roman. "Had I known sooner—"

"Not everything is as it seems, right?" he nodded.

"Indeed," she conceded.

"I brought you something," The Guardian blurted, somewhat awkwardly. "It took some time to design, but Eva made it for me." Eris said nothing, her face as stoic as ever. The Guardian extracted a bit of cloth from inside his cloak. It was a sheer material, the shade of midnight, and embroidered with grey and silver fibers in the shape of a twisted tree. Roman unfolded and extended it toward Eris. "May I?"

Eris nodded meekly and untied her veil. As she leaned forward, the Guardian wrapped the new shroud in place with careful hands.

"I hope you like it," he supplied with a sheepish smile.

"Like it? I—this material is as soft as down...no...it cannot be," she whispered as her fingers ghosted over the cloth. "But how?"

"Of the seeds we do not speak," he said quietly between them. "Take care of it."

For the first time in a very long time, a smile tugged at the corner of Eris' lips. With a small dance of her fingers, Eris grabbed Roman's hand and held it for a time.

Unbeknownst to them, the Drifter was leaning against the tent, gnawing on his mangled toothpick like a sorry sucker. As he sighed, his heart sank as he realized that he had lost the only game that ever truly mattered. "Merry Dawning, Snitch."

On the twelfth day of Dawning my Traveler gave to me

Twelve Titans Smashing

Eleven Hunters Dodging

Ten Warlocks Blinking

Nine Voidlight Crystals

Eight Vex a-milking

Seven Snowballs Freezing

Six Campers Camping

Five of Swords

Four Fallen Dregs

Three Colonel Hens

Two Lonesome Doves

And a seed of the Silver Wing Tree