𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐘- 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 — into the ice court

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 𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐊𝐒𝐀 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 a routine of gently knocking her boot against Kaz's ankle. She couldn't be certain just how long he'd been out, leaning his cold cheek against her shoulder as the wagon jilted and jostled, but they'd already made it past two checkpoints.

 She wanted to move, like second nature Aleksa had tried to pull away from him even if the touch of him alone sent her stomach into a tizzy... but the moment she tried, Aleksa knew the collar around Kaz's neck would have deprived him of air.

 Still, she shifted against Inej, pushing ever so carefully into her Wraith. Her head was cocked, hair tumbling over her right side while Kaz's breath shuddered against her left; she did all she could do for him — leaning away, tipping into Inej... She kicked him again and gone were the niceties she afforded him, her swift and sharp boot to the leg had Kaz jolting awake at last.

 "Kaz?" She whispered as low as she possibly could, her voice muffled by the hood covering her head but she knew Kaz would hear, he'd always been capable of hearing her whispers through the dark as though her shadows carried them straight to his ears.

 He moved away, and that was enough to know that Kaz was back. His breathing was still loud, a wheezing drone clawing unwillingly from his throat.

 Kaz tipped his head, his neck ached from the awkward position he'd slumped in, the skin at his bobbing throat was sore and likely red from the rubbing of the metal collar... and yet neither bothered him much — whoever was pressed against his back was making his stomach curl. Ocean waves were clouding him, a rippling surface he could scarcely reach for with his pale and shaking fingers.

 He even backed away from Aleksa's touch, even despite that silly part of him that craved it, that seemed to beg for more. Even now as the smell of bodies and salted water flooded his nose, he could still smell that sweet tangle of rose and jasmine that seemed embedded within her skin. He could smell the aftermath of the cherry pastries she'd guzzled, he could feel the slightest touch of her warmth clawing through frozen waters.

 But it wasn't enough to save him from drowning.

 The whisper she'd gifted him broke through the surface, and while muffled like the gasp of a breath beneath the waves, Kaz had heard her. It brought him back for a moment, "Keep talking," He said, voice foreign to his own ears.

 Gone was the grit that sent people running, all he and Aleksa could hear was a pitiful wheeze.

 Aleksa bobbed her head, even despite the fact that he wouldn't be able to see, "Well, while I have a lovely assortment of pretty words I could bestow upon you, dear Brekker, I should probably let you know that we're just now passing through the prison gate; we've managed to get ourselves through two checkpoints already."

 Aleksa could almost hear the unfortunate gears within the boy's mind whirring and clanking. She didn't need to say her next words at all, but perhaps peace of mind would at least calm his racing heart, "They stood by the doors, counted each of us... that was all."

 But Aleksa knew Kaz, and she knew he was likely chiding himself for slipping away. He could have been robbed or killed and he hadn't even woken. Not the crack of light seeping through the door, nor her own nudges had stirred him for minutes on end.

 Kaz swallowed at her comment; she never quite spoke directly about such matters. Never had she directly asked what was bothering him, what sent him into a spiral of madness. She'd never dug too deep, something he appreciated at least. But she would always make a statement to comfort him — her tone would be the standard lilt she sported, all light and sweet as though she was simply making him aware that the sky was blue.

 She'd always been like that — never one to point out a weakness, but always one to make a statement that calmed the roaring waves threatening to pull him under. It was the same on nights when the chill seized his bones; Aleksa wouldn't say a word, she'd just drop back and make some sort of jest, or ask a question to cover up the fact that her own pace had slowed. She'd offer a hand to help him up knowing that more often than not he'd refused. But she reached anyway.

 Kaz forced himself to breathe deeply, his head cocked just ever so slightly so that the mixture of rose, jasmine and cherry would banish the smell of rotting bodies. The other prisoners were all murmuring, stewing within their fear — hopefully, it would have been enough to keep the rest of his crew blissfully unaware that he'd toppled into the canal once more.

 Kaz was glad it had been Aleksa he'd fallen into. That her voice had been the one to rouse him from the darkness, she had a knack for that, it seemed. Even still, trusting the Shadow with his life was one thing, something he'd done time and time again without a second thought... trusting her with his shame was something else entirely. She'd never breathe a word of it, that much he knew... for while Kaz claimed that he trusted nobody, not even the Dregs that followed him like dogs, he trusted her — or perhaps it was Rietveld that trusted her. He found it hard to tell the difference in her presence.

 Aleksa prattled on and on, describing the route they'd taken, and what twists and turns the road had paved. It wasn't something she'd often pay attention to, for she knew that the Bastard at her side was more than capable of mapping out the land, yet the second his cheekbone had threatened to slice through her shoulder, she let her body grow loose. With every left turn, she'd crane her neck, and with every right, she'd slide in the opposite direction.

 But then the wagon slowed. The pounding of hooves grew quieter and quieter until their transportation came to a standstill.

 This was it, the true test. Getting into the wagon and passing through the checkpoints with faces obscured was one thing, but having hoods torn from their heads while eyes dissected their features and bodies was another entirely.

 This was the moment where everything they'd accomplished could come undone like a pitiful knot tangling within twine. The bold slid back and the doors were flung open.

 Aleksa could hear the guards muttering in Fjerdan, commanding one another to remove their collars and drag them forth. It all happened swiftly, metal yanked from her throat, a hand at her back as she was pushed down a ramp. Her boots thudded in time with the creak of an opening gate. They were herded forth like cattle, shuffling in the shackles binding them together.

 Daytime had snuck up on them in the midst of their blinded travel and Aleksa had to squint as the hood over her head was torn free. She was beside Kaz and Inej as they remained utterly still within the courtyard while the gate they'd passed through was already being lowered and closed — no way out. Aleksa peered upwards, towards the multitude of armed guards positioned on the rooftops, most — if not all — sporting that typical and blinding Fjerdan blond hair. Their guns were aimed, each cold and rusted barrel pointed towards herself, and the prisoners around her.

 One wrong move and bullets would litter their flesh. Aleksa tipped her head to the side, a stray curl falling over her cheek and toppling to her shoulder. Perhaps she hadn't been away from the Barrel for long enough, or perhaps that same twisted desire for fun in the form of danger made her think go on, shoot me... see what happens.

 They'd all certainly get a shock when she'd merely summon the strength of Merzost. Her skin would become laced with darkness and the bullets would topple from her flesh. It would be like watching poor Oomen all over again — but then she felt Inej's arm brush her own. Her crows wouldn't be so fortunate.

 The guards below were moving along the rows of shackled captives; like her own crew, Aleksa spied people of all shapes and sizes. Shu boys and girls, older women, young men. People with scars or flawless skin, brown hair – even another blond to rival Matthias. The guards shuffled through, pointing fingers at the papers in their hands as they matched each prisoner to the driver's paperwork.

 Hopefully when they realised the wagon Aleksa and her crows had slinked from was frightfully contrasting their documents, they'd merely wave the discrepancies away — after all, who in Ghenzen's name would break themselves into a prison?

 Matthias had described just about every inch of the prison they'd soon find themselves within, but he'd done little work in describing what it truly looked like from an outside eye. Aleksa had expected something big and boring. Something crafted of metals and brick... but this...

 The entire prison was crafted from marble so white it almost appeared blue — just like the ice surrounding them. It took just a single look for Aleksa to know that fabricators had built the structure before her — the towering building practically glistened, shimmering like sunlight bursting through glass.

 There wasn't a single chance in hell that a bunch of meat-headed Fjerdans would have been able to craft such a thing. The lines that should have been between the bricks were invisible, as though each and every block of magnificent marble had been sealed together, each little molecule fusing until it seemed as though the structure had been carved like an ice sculpture.

 David Kostyk would have a field day.

 Nina had quite clearly come to the very same conclusion, but the Heratrender couldn't keep her lips together, "If this isn't Fabrikator craft, then I'm the queen of the woodsprites," she muttered in Kerch.

 Just a second later, Nina was doubled over in pain as a guard slammed his rifle into her gut while a growl of 'silence!' slid from his tongue in Fjerdan.

 "Are you okay?" Inej whispered to their Heartrender, though she dutifully kept her head facing forth, her spine as straight as a board.

 Nina slowly rose, winded, but untimely fine, "I'm alright..." But then her forest-green eyes seemed to darken as though woodlands had been cast in twilight, "I don't think we have to worry about Pekka Rollins' team anymore."

 Aleksa followed her line of sight, cerulean eyes trailing the length of the ringwall until she spied the gruesome sight. There, high above the courtyard, were five impaled men. Their bodies had been skewered with spikes as though they were nothing more than clumps of meat to be roasted above a fire.

 Their backs were bent, limbs dangling like unused puppets. Aleksa could recognise two of them... but the others were far too beaten and ravaged by death to tell apart. Their skin was doused purple and blue, be it by the bruises they'd sustained or death consuming their flesh. Lips were split, noses crooked and broken. Welts covered their skin and their eyes were swollen.

 Aleksa stared and stared, watching as fingers jolted in the breeze, as clumps of blood-sodden hair drifted over foreheads — she felt nothing for them... But she could picture her crew up there. Inej slashed and beaten, Jesper's gangly form limp and still, Nina's beautiful and round cheeks busted and beaten, Kaz with a face set in stone and his pale skin just as gaunt as she'd seen when his throat filled with water.

 It was when the Fjerdan guards began to argue back and forth with their delightful wagon driver, that Aleksa finally let the horrific vision fade away, along with the jittery form of The black Heretic that had been grinning from behind them.

 One of the guards pointed at Inej, while another stopped before Aleksa, scanning her features as he yelled back, "This is no Shu, either. Ravkan."

 Aleksa could feel Inej draw closer, she could sense Kaz's eyes on the side of her face, "They're saying they have Suli and Ravkan girls instead of a Shu boy and girl."

 Inej inhaled, "And the driver?"

 Aleksa discretely shook her head. The driver was as oblivious as he was lazy, "He's telling them it's not his problem."

 "That's the way," Kaz murmured encouragingly.

 Aleksa watched the guards argue back and forth for minutes — what had Kaz said to her before... Laziness wasn't as reliable as greed, but it still made a fine lever. It seemed his words of wisdom rang true, for the guards soon relented after the driver made his fine rebuttal of 'they were all chained and hooded,' with a light shrug of absolute nonchalance.

 Finally, one of the prison guards sighed and signalled to his cohorts with a raised hand, "Diveskemen."

 Nina was the one who translated this time. Her eyes were cast forth, her pink lips hardly parting as she murmured from the side of her mouth, "Go on, take them to the east block and let the next shift sort them out."

 Aleksa trudged onwards, following her delightful team until the guards halted each and every one of them. One by one they were split apart, men and women made to separate. Aleksa watched Kaz, Jesper and Matthias go — they had just one Grisha in their ranks, one who hid his powers. If something happened to them...

 Aleksa was jolted, a gun pressed into the base of her spine.

 "Move." The Fjerdan growled so close to her ear she could feel spittle land on her neck.

 Despite the innate desire to call for the shadows to swallow him whole, Aleksa did as she was told. Slow and even steps carried her closer to the archway formed to look like the open jaws of a lone white wolf.

 An older woman swamped in chains came into view. Her eyes were vacant as she pressed her fingers against the wrists of each passing prisoner, struggling to keep her spine straight as the guards flanking her sides yelled for the prisoners to keep moving.

 A human amplifier. Aleksa almost shuddered — the last run-in with a human amplifier had been her own family. The Black Heretic and Baghra; two summoners who could sense the power of another Grisha and enhance it ten-fold.

 Baghra had grumbled when Aleksa had stated that their particular strength seemed to have skipped her.

 'It didn't skip you, girl. Why do you think you can sense a Grisha before they even display their power?'

 'My charming ability to read people?'

 'You're a nuisance.'

 Aleksa rather missed her. Still, Aleksa had little desire to be able to enhance the power of a Grisha — hell, the poor woman slumping closer and closer to the ground as the weight of chains buried her was reason enough.

 But Kaz had planned for this, of course. Paraffin. A delightful little substance that managed to keep any and all Grisha amplifiers from deciphering who was human, and who was Grisha. It was a tricky thing, paraffin — something that fled the skin rather quickly, yet when mixed with wax and smothered over the skin, it created a defiant layer. A layer that allowed Nina Zenik to pass through the checkpoint with ease.

 Inej was next... and then Aleksa. The guard pushed the sleeve of her coat, and then tore away the ruffle of her shirt. The Grisha amplifier pressed two fingers against Aleksa's pulse. She stilled, eyes fluttering for the shortest moment... Her lips seemed to curl, wrinkles growing deeper.

 But the older woman said nothing as she dropped her hands and waved her on.

 Aleksa couldn't help but swallow the lump in her throat — the older woman hadn't done such a thing for Nina, nor for Inej. She had smiled with a glint in her eyes... as though she knew.

 Was it so surprising that such power had bled through Aleksa's skin, through her coating of paraffin wax? Not really... Still, the older woman hadn't said a word to the Fjerdans, she hadn't raised the alarm.

 After being held captive in Fjerda, the Grisha still had some semblance of loyalty for her own kind — or perhaps it was such stark power that had the woman thinking that after so many decades, a Grisha might finally tear the wretched place down.

 Either way, it didn't matter. Aleksa soldiered on, squeezing her fingers around the skin the older woman had brushed.

 A ways away, Kaz had been watching with those stone-cold eyes. A glare shifted his features, tugging his brows down his face until shadows appeared. He'd watched Nina tremble, practically tripping over her own feet when she'd been waved through — but he'd seen the smile. He'd seen the spark of...hope in the older woman's eyes when she'd caressed Aleksa's skin with a touch as gentle as a mother caressing her newborn.

 He'd seen the way Aleksa had swallowed, the way her shaking fingers had clamped around her own wrist — Aleksa had caught the woman's gaze, too, of course she had.

 Aleksa remained as close as she possibly could to her dear crows — or what remained of them, at least. Nina was still shaking, utterly terrified that the women would squeak or squawk about whatever she'd sensed.

 Inej tried to keep her head high, her back poised and straight as she tried to keep the facade of the Wraith as strong as ever... But it was cracking. Each light step that carried her like a leaf on the wind was slowly becoming heavier and heavier.

 Aleksa kept herself just as she always would — face devoid of fear, her steps clean and precise as she stomped with her boots. She wasn't afraid... in fact, the further they went, the more adrenaline seemed to drown her. Her skin jolted, buzzing as Jespers would at the sight of a clean deck or a glinting dice.

 When the girls were ordered to strip themselves of each article of clothing, Aleksa had been the first to toss her coat aside. Each girl around her, young and old, was trembling. They were all utterly terrified, and the thought of ridding their clothing, left bare for the guards — Aleksa understood. She understood because of Inej, and that made her adrenaline spark with rage.

 She pulled on her shirt, uncaring as buttons popped free and skittered over the floor — their things were likely going to be burnt anyway. Her top half was bare, and it was only then that the others began to follow her lead. Trousers were slung aside, skirts and stockings and shoes were all discarded in lumps.

 Only when each of them was as bare as the moment they'd been born, did Aleksa turn to her crows. Their faces were etched with disgust, with somewhat disguised fear. She grinned at them, and though she kept her eyes dutifully on their cheeks — never willing to pass boundaries — Aleksa clicked her tongue, "My, my... aren't we the prettiest prisoners in the cell?"

 Nina snorted, her hand swiftly rising to muffle the sound while Inej managed to bite her lip in time — Trust their Shadow to lighten shut a dreary mood.

 Even some of the other prisoners who managed to understand her husk of Kerch giggled to themselves.

 The guards, however, didn't seem as inclined to entertain their new jester. In fact, Aleksa was wrenched away, fingers pulling at long locks of hair as her face was forced to tilt backwards.

 She was met by the sight of dark Fjerdan-blue, "Tig!" He bellowed right into her face, closer enough that she could see the back of his damned throat.

 A harsh shove landed her on her knees. The ground beneath her was just as cold as the Fjerdan landscape, her breath coming in white puffs. The bare toes of Nina and Inej stopped before her, a bronze hand and a pale one each reached out. She took them both, hauling herself to her feet.

 "Prick." She muttered beneath her breath as she rubbed her poor skull. Each of them were soon being dragged to form a line for the freezing showers about to drench them entirely.

 The water pelted against their skin like stones, leaving each expanse of flesh utterly frozen and red. Aleksa had grit her teeth as she pushed her head beneath the stream, long and ruffled curls became pin-straight, trailing the length of her spine, landing right below the small of her back; she had enough to rival Inej, who had freed her own from the oil-black coil.

 They were forced from the onslaught of stone-cold water and forced to shove a prison-issued uniform over their heads; blank grey trousers and a delightful matching tunic. The fabric itched at Aleksa's skin, brushing roughly against the plain of bare flesh beneath.

 Once more, they were herded like animals, shuffling through hallways until they were pushed into their already-crammed holding cell. Now this is what Aleksa had been picturing; gone was the glowing marble and glass, now she was face to face with damp and dreary stone. Metal bars stood from floor to ceiling, keeping a dozen people in one cell at a time.

 There was hardly any room to be found in the cell; the smallest gap remained free on one of the stone benches; enough room for Inej who perched silently between two prisoners while Nina leaned her back against the wall, eyes narrowed at each guard passing them by. Aleksa slouched to the floor with her legs parted, palms resting on the cold ground as she stared upwards, counting the cracks and chips in the ceiling.

 They'd made it. They were sodden, cold and dressed rather terribly, but they'd made it. Aleksa almost laughed, a slight smile ticking at her lips... closer to the goal. Closer to the kruge. Closer to the win.

 "So," One of the girls that had arrived with the crows spoke, her toe tapping Aleksa's calf, "Why'd such a pretty girl land here?"

 Aleksa tossed sodden locks over her shoulder, shivering at the feeling of her wet tunic. She could already see Inej's head shaking, because of course the first thing that would happen was someone flirting with their insatiable shadow, "Too pretty for the world, I fear. They simply had to lock me up."

 But then Aleksa's grin widened, her eyes falling to Nina, "Actually, I beguiled a Druskelle. Terrible mistake, but those Fjerdan blues were just —" Aleksa tipped her head back as some of the women laughed. Nina swallowed, her lips pursed to consume her amusement, "Well, who knew that such sheltered men could be so good with those meaty hands."

 There were a few who didn't utter a sound, their eyes narrowed. One of them spoke up, pushing herself from her seat, "You think being trapped here is fun, no?" Her broken Kerch made it obvious that she didn't quite have the same stomach as those who ran in Ketterdam. Her cheeks were pink.

 Aleksa entertained her, "Well, I'm not going to sit here and brood about it."

 "This girl is an idiot." The girl muttered in what Aleksa presumed to be her mother tongue — Shu.

 "An idiot would bend to their will like a dog on a leash." Aleksa said flippantly, her Shu as flawless as her Kerch, "You play the part well, my love."

 "You —" The woman brushed forth, swatting away the arms that grappled for her. She soon had a fistful of Aleksa's ratty tunic.

 "You? You, what?" Aleksa grinned, clamping her own fingers around the girls wrists until her nails broke skin. Her smile stilled, lowering and lowering until a dreadful scowl painted her pretty face, "If you wanted a peek down my shirt, all you had to do was ask."

 The woman was vibrant, steam practically billowing from her head... but there was something about Aleksa's steadily thinning lips that made the woman pause.

 The Shu girl stared for a moment, watching with lips agape as Aleksa rose her head, noses almost bumping. Aleksa blinked just once, "You gonna let go?" She seemed to purr, low and gravelly instead of the usual honey-sweet coo, "Or shall I show you what my hands can do?"

 The grip on her pitiful grey tunic loosened until the Shu Girl backed away, eyes cast to the ground as the women around her stifled their laughter. They were all in the same boat — well, most of them... Aleksa didn't suspect that the others had some master plan to break out of the damned place. But for all intents and purposes, they were prisoners — what good was fighting?

 With that little show over and done with, Aleksa ignored Inej's stern look with absolute ease and cast her eyes back to the ceiling, a slow smile creeping to her lips, she cocked her head, brows rose as she met Nina's delightful gaze. Her words flowed in Kaelish, something likely only Nina would be able to understand, "You know..." She sighed almost dreamily, "I can't believe we missed the chance to see the others naked."

 Nina's shoulders shook, "You mean Kaz?"

 "Well..." Aleksa kept her gaze on Nina, "Yes."

 "Does he really have claws?" Nina's words switched to Kerch, and Inej immediately breathed a little laugh.

 Aleksa felt her brow rise further up her forehead. Those damned rumours about him having the hands of a beast, the rumours that his pale skin was permanently stained red beneath his gloves... what folly.

 "Yes." Aleksa said, "Terribly long and curled like a mutt. Even has scales to boot —"

 "— you're the worst."

 "Ah, but really I'm the best."

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DATE: 26/11/2024

:･ﾟ★ Mhm Aleksa is the MOMENT. also yes, kaz being a simp for the entire first part is very crucial to my well-being. 

trying to get some of these chaps out while planning a lucanis dellamorte fic... sigh...

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