Woven Memories: Pretty Little Liars, #28
Title: Woven Memories
Character/Pairing: Aria Montgomery
Fandom: Pretty Little Liars
Theme: #28-Needle
Aria Montgomery had been knitting since she was about eight years old.
She picked up the habit from her Latvian grandmother, who was always working on a new project. She started out small: potholders and coasters were the easiest things to make. By age ten she was effortlessly knitting cute scarves and hats with complex patterns. The raven-haired girl felt a sense of pride in her abilities.
Nonetheless, it wasn't exactly a popular hobby for kids her age and her classmates noted her love for the craft with no small amount of fascination. Spencer Hastings and Hanna Marin didn't make much of it, but two of Aria's other friends had stronger reactions.
"Why do you like to knit so much? Isn't that like a hobby for old ladies?" Courtney DiLaurentis--known to everyone as Ali back then--once asked her. She tried to give a good explanation but her answer didn't satisfy the blonde. "Whatever. I still say it's for old cronies," she snorted. Of course someone like Courtney wouldn't understand.
Emily Fields' observations were much kinder. "It's really cool how you can make a bunch of things with a couple of needles and some yarn." The redhead stared at her hands ruefully. "I'm too much of a klutz to really do that kind of thing. I'm much better at swimming." When Aria insisted that she give it a try, Emily refused. "Oh no, I'm really not that good with my hands. I'm sure I'd find some way to mess up a potholder!"
Aria's skills advanced as the years went by. Living in Iceland for three years exposed her to new materials to use and interesting patterns to try. She created an ecru and navy sweater dress for herself at fourteen and wore it on a date with her first boyfriend. She wore a quirky looking pair of socks woven from an unusual Icelandic wool when she had her first kiss. Each item Aria made had so many memories attached to it. Perhaps that was why it was difficult to explain her love for knitting to others; she was too young to fully understand it herself at the time. Being able to make something on her own was obviously the high point of the craft. But to Aria it had quickly become more than that.
It felt as though she were making a scrapbook of her life. From the amateurish coasters to the carefully knitted socks, every item had a story to tell. She could look at the mohair bra she made in middle school and remember the chaotic but precious moments with Courtney and the others. She could wear her green cable-knit scarf and reminisce about those winter evenings in Iceland, when she and Hallbjorn would play in the snow after a blizzard, or watch the sea together from her family's charming waterfront home. She could put on that dull-looking but endearing cap and go back to the night when she and Noel lounged on his family's vast field, watching the stars and constellations light the sky.
These were more than mere projects; these were memories of some of the happiest--and most upsetting--moments of her life. These were relics from eras long past, from times that were perhaps best forgotten. But she could never forget. Too much has happened in her life for her to cast away the memories, regardless of how badly she wanted to abandon them. And perhaps that was a good thing. Perhaps these items, borne of simple needles and yarn, would give Aria a chance to make peace with her inner struggles. She might not get the answers she so desperately wanted, but at least she could begin the steps towards closure.