𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐘 — just you

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 "𝐖𝐄'𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄." Kaz's voice seemed to ricochet around the room like one of Jesper's sizzling bullets. It was full of cold stone as he peered at each and every one of them. They had to prepare, no doubt they'd be gone for quite some time... and Fjerda was a mystery to a majority of them, "I'll send word to each of you after I find us a ship, but be ready to sail by tomorrow night."

 Aleksa had only guessed they'd be sailing the moment they could; Kaz never gave them longer than necessary to prepare themselves... not that it truly mattered. All Aleksa had to do was pack the few things she needed, strap her quiver to her shoulder, and be on her merry way.

 She was rather excited at the prospect of sailing the sea once more, it had been a taste she'd acquired thanks to a certain loud-mouthed prince. Nikolai, or rather, Sturmhond, had sailed for so many years with his rag-tag crew... and then when the seas couldn't quite carry him where he wanted to go, he had chosen to sail the damned skies.

 Aleksa had found herself on boat after boat when she'd stuck by dear Alina Starkov. Each trip was filled with light and shadows, with Squallors hurtling their ship through the air, while Tidemakers weaved the ocean waves.

 It would be a long journey, with uncertain weather that would likely begin to chill their bones and turn their flesh purple the moment Fjerda drew closer. Aleksa had already felt the cold blanket of the Fjerdan air; it was bitter and curled around the skin like a noose to the neck. It was lethal, if not properly prepared.

 "We don't know what kind of weather we'll hit, and there's a long journey ahead of us." Kaz expanded, leather-clad fingers dipping into the pocket of his coat. Aleksa truly thought they might be bottomless, "Hringkälla is our best shot at Bo Yul-Bayur. We're not going to risk losing it by postponing any longer than needed.

 It gave him just enough time too; his crew would be delegated their roles. From finding suitable clothing to securing the necessary stock for their weapons...

 Not only that... Kaz needed to think the plan through. The basics were easy enough to picture; where they'd enter and where they'd exit... it was the in-between that was worrisome. They wouldn't be able to haul much more than the clothes on their backs with them, for if they were to land themselves behind bars, the Fjerdans would likely take great joy in seizing their weapons.

 Kaz's eyes flicked to Wylan, and Aleksa spied something within them. Kaz assessed anyone and everyone that stood before him. He'd watch how they'd speak, how they'd walk. He'd find weaknesses and discrepancies in their performances.

 But he wasn't doing that this time. Kaz's eyes weren't narrowed with little creases at the edges, coddling those pretty brown eyes like a frame. He almost looked worried, and maybe he was. Wylan was ever so clearly out of his depth, and they hadn't even left Ketterdam, hell, they hadn't stepped foot outside the Crow Club.

 He was their youngest, still bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. He looked younger than he was, as he blinked with widened eyes, as he faltered beneath stares and flushed pink at any attention landing upon him.

 "Jesper?" Kaz called, and upon the sharpshooter's hum of acknowledgement, Kaz jutted his chin Wylans way, "Keep Wylan out of trouble."

 Jesper groaned, "Why me?"

 "You're unlucky enough to be in my line of sight, and I don't want any sudden reconciliations between father and son before we set sail."

 "In your line of — Aleksa is right there!"

 "I have other plans for Aleksa..." Kaz slipped his eyes shut as her voice chimed with the utmost honied delight.

 "I'm liking the sound of that."

 Kaz did his best to ignore that little buzz that sparked upon her tone, "Wylan can keep an eye on you, too."

 Jesper stomped his foot like a kid. His hands were flung into the air making his already tall and lanky body stretch out even further, "On me?"

 Aleksa hid a smile behind her hands as Wylan shrunk ever so close to the ground, while Jesper only seemed to grow higher and higher in his indignant bewilderment. Kaz, however, turned his back on them. His dark coat billowed around him and the cane clutched in one hand clicked as he strode across the room.

 He slid a blackwood panel aside, and a key toppled from the sleeve of his coat. With nimble, lockpick fingers, he twisted the key and opened the safe dutifully hidden away, "Yes, you." He fingered through four stacks of kruge, counting the purple notes before splitting them and handing over a slender stack to Jesper, "This is for bullets. Not bets. Wylan will make sure that your feet don't mysteriously find their way into a gambling den. Ammunition only, understood?"

 "I don't need a nursemaid," Jesper snapped while Wylan nodded his head in absolute obedience, despite the fact that he too, didn't quite like the arrangement. Even Kaz Brekker himself had been more welcoming than the sharpshooter.

 "More like a chaperone, but if you want him to wash your nappies and tuck you in at night, that's your business." Kaz ignored the way Jesper recoiled, the way a stung expression twisted his face as though he'd been slapped right across the cheek. He passed another stack of kruge to Wylan for the explosives he'd need, and another to Nina so that she could stock up her Tailoring kit, "Stock up for the journey only, If this works the way I think it will, we're going to have to enter the Ice Court empty-handed."

 Aleksa only barely spied the way his hand tightened around the crow's skull as he uttered the words. He'd be left to trudge through the Ice Court without anything to take the weight off his leg. It was already bothering him, he'd stretched it out, and trail his fingers over the bump of his knee whenever the crows weren't looking...

 Aleksa, however, needn't worry. While the bow on her back and the arrows she'd dock brought her great comfort in knowing she wouldn't have to call upon the shadows... she still had that option.

 Inej pulled away from her position at Aleksa's side in a flurry of purple. She'd traded the navy jacket and hood for something more her style. The shade reminded her of her mother's favourite flowers... wild geraniums. Inej could still remember the scent. Sweet, like summer air.

 Kaz held out another stack for Inej to take, "I'll need you to get cold weather gear. There's a shop on the Wijnstraat that supplies trappers – start there."

 Matthias hunched a shoulder. Now that he was standing beside them all, Aleksa could see just how imposing he truly looked. Tall and broad, lean and carved. She supposed she could see where Nina Zenik might have gotten the idea to fall into the arms of the Druskelle... but even when there was ample space between himself and Kaz Brekker, Aleksa couldn't help but allow her eyes to stray back to the boy draped in obsidian.

 "You think to approach from the north?" Matthias asked.

 Kaz swiftly met Aleksa's unwavering gaze. It was the only time he'd ever felt like an animal. Not one with bared teeth and claws sharp enough to cut a man in two, no, like a little fuzzy creature in the depths of wild thrush. Like prey.

 He blinked, eyes back on Matthias, "Yes. The Djerholm harbour is crawling with customs agents, and I'm going to bet they'll be tightening security during your big party."

 "It isn't a party."

 "Wine and flesh, you said?" Aleksa recalled, her smile broadening as Matthias' shoulders slouched at the mere sound of her voice, "That definitely sounds like a party."

 His lips parted, ready to object... yet all he could say was, "It isn't supposed to be a party."

 Nina stepped forth then. Well aware of the way Matthias decidedly took a step back as though she were a plague, "What are we going to do with him?" Her voice held little emotion; she was pretending as though she couldn't have cared less, yet Aleksa had heard the desperation in her voice back at Hellgate. She'd seen the tears. She knew.

 It appeared that Kaz's wonderful mind thought it best to keep Matthias Helvar — the great lump who'd already strangled one of their own, and also lunged for Aleksa's throat — right there. In the Crow Club.

 Aleksa, while objecting entirely, thought he'd make a rather splendid pet for them all. Though, she did suppose that if anybody came knocking, whoever was stationed outside the door would likely wave them away and tell them that there was a private game occurring.

 They'd all be staying at the Club, and while Aleksa was quite fine with clogging her poor belly with cherry-flavoured alcohol until the sun rose once again, poor Jesper would struggle. Every time a cheer rang out he jumped and practically salivated at the prospect of a win.

 When the others finally took their exit, leaving only Aleksa, Kaz and Matthias in the room, Aleksa tucked a curled lock of hair behind her ear, "What exactly is it you wanted me to see to?"

 Kaz assessed her laid-back state. He should have expected that the prospect of their impossible heist was seen as nothing more than a couple weeks worth of fun to her; that's what it always had been. Every heist would begin with her delightful laughter that seemed to turn his brain into pathetic globs of goo, with a grin that would make Kaz truly believe his heart was failing.

 But now, after fighting a war that was never truly her own, Kaz supposed breaking into the Ice Court probably did seem like fun.

 "Your contacts... any of them willing to part with a ship?" Kaz asked even though contacts was certainly a loose term.

 He was alluding to the men she'd manage to catch in her spider's web and devour as though they were sorry little flies. She'd bleed them dry and take them for all they were worth, and yet some still praised the ground she walked upon; it had proved rather beneficial when preparing for heists or gathering snippets of information.

 After all... men could be such dull creatures. So many of the fools wandering Ketterdam seldom spoke a word of their dealings to friends or allies... yet the moment a pretty girl batted her lashes and pretended as though her brain was filled with nothing but sugar and flowers, their egos would burst and their secrets would flood the canals.

 Aleksa approached the table, and in a beat, her pockets were emptied. There was a little notebook with torn edges. The cover was — or had been — a pristine shade of duck-egg blue, now it was grimy and the colour had faded to something quite vile. Still, the writing inside was intelligible, to her at least.

 The notebook contained a list of names and what those names could be squandered for. However, as Kaz and Matthias peered over the pages... their minds were left blank. The words contained within the book were not written in one language alone; with the knowledge of Ravkan, Fjerdan, Shu and many other dialects, came the ability to keep secrets of her own.

 Every first word was Ravkan, the second Fjerdan, the third Shu and so on and so forth. Only those with such delightful knowledge as she could decipher it, though without knowing the pattern itself, the phrases were entirely illegible.

 "I'm a secret keeper too, pretty boy." Aleksa chimed, dainty, yet calloused fingers trailing over the page. Her lips moved in time, murmuring the names before continuing onwards... "Ah, um... Rajek, he's on the east stave, frequents that awful little bar with the two mice painted on the door. He's Suli, about as tall as Wylan, and had a buzzed head and a very thick moustache the last I saw him. He owns a ship sturdy enough for the journey and big enough for our group."

 Matthias blinked; he hadn't yet seen anything other than her vulgar flirting and her desire to make him feel about as small as a rat. To see the coy smile fade as she read from her scroll of names disguised by code was strange. He could see why Brekker had chosen her — aside from her unnatural powers.

 Kaz, even despite the mild elation at having a ship just on the horizon, couldn't wipe the look of utter displeasure from his face. Actually... he couldn't stop his mouth from parting, either, "And what, pray tell, did you do to have him owe you?"

 Aleksa almost grinned, "Wouldn't you like to know," She leaned closer and closer until just an inch was between their noses. She could feel his warm breath, spy the little flecks of honey within his pretty eyes... then she drew back with a laugh, "No, no... I only helped get him out of a spot of trouble. Nothing like that, dear, no need to get jealous."

 Aleksa snapped her book shut, "Mention my name, he's a delight and will be more than willing to help out... anything else you need?"

 Kaz only plucked her quiver from the ground, "Make sure this is filled..." Then, he peered at her, "How good?"

 "Very good."

 "Hm." He hadn't even the need to ask, Aleksa had always been rather infuriatingly good at picking up new talents. He supposed with a palace, fields that rolled for miles, and a royal armoury at her disposal, she shouldn't have been less than a decent shot, "Get some sleep. It'll be a long journey."

 Aleksa's gaze slid to Matthias, "You're really leaving this one here?"

 "What I said earlier, about smothering him in his sleep? Don't. Unfortunately, we do need him."

 "Shame." Aleksa almost made to pat Matthias on the arm as she took her leave, yet with that infuriated look now back within his cold eyes, she knew it'd only spur another bout of butting-heads between them, "Alright. Nighty-night Druskelle."

 When her fingers curled around the golden doorknob, she tossed a final parting look over her shoulder. Her eyes held Matthias beneath a cruel light, and the Druskelle found himself wondering how exactly she'd managed to perfect such a menacing little glare, "Helvar? Should I notice anything... out of the ordinary... I'll break three of your fingers."

 "Three?"

 "Three. Jes says it's his lucky number... and he's never lucky."

 When the door was sealed behind her, Aleksa heard the rumble of a fight. The poor Druskelle would never learn, would he? Still, Kaz was far more than equipped to handle such a man. So, without sparing a look of worry, Aleksa trudged onwards with one goal only; the bar.

 Later that same evening, when the stars began to blend together upon Ketterdams blurry night sky, Aleksa trailed her way through the club and soon landed herself within the little room Kaz had to himself. It was stuffed with a small desk in which a stack of papers towered high. A few books were strewn about, and a pot of ink with absolutely no overflowing droplets sat rather dangerously close to the edge.

 Kaz was there, with a pen in hand as he scrawled away at one of the pieces of tea-stained parchments. His hands were free of his gloves, his coat was shed and hanging upon an old coat rack tucked away in one of the room's darkened corners. Even his waistcoat was undone.

 Aleksa paused in the doorway, merely watching those pale fingers continue to scribble away with curled letters one might expect to find from a skilled wordsmith or calligrapher. But it wasn't the swift lines crossing his T's, nor the precise and tiny dots atop his I's that caught her attention, no, it was his rather ruffled state.

 His collar, for one, was popped open and had a crease or two crawling along the seams; it was very unlike Kaz Brekker to be caught with a single fold in his clothing, even when he was by his lonesome. His hair... he usually kept it slicked back, and while a strand or two might fall free — much to Aleksa's delight — but tonight it had all broken free. His unbuttoned waistcoat was mildly rumpled... and mildly rumpled for Kaz was very telling.

 Aleksa's shoulder bumped the door frame, "So..." She chimed with as much honey in her voice as she could possibly gather, "How was Helvar?"

 "About as you'd expect," Kaz replied, eyes immediately leaving behind the document before him. He truly hated that, how his eyes would simply find her in an empty space, or even the most crowded of rooms... like a magnet.

 "Did he swing?"

 "Then tripped."

 "Ever so clumsy, that one." Aleksa nodded, like it was information everyone in the Barrel was privy to. She stepped in, and as ever, Aleksa closed the door behind her. All that was left was the silence they were doused within, the flickering candlelight that illuminated Kaz's face ever so wonderfully.

 He looked laid back now, eyes no longer bitter and narrowed, shoulders no longer tensed. Aleksa dropped her eyes to the documents, "That big brain of yours working too fast?"

 It held the plans he was coming up with. Various lines were crossed through sentences... he'd toss it into the fire before they left.

 Kaz leaned back, fingers clasping within one another as he did so, each of them clicked in succession, "Hm. Fortunately for me, I've never visited the desolate waste of Fjerda... But unfortunately for us all, well... we have to rely on Helvar."

 "I've only been in the midst of the mountains..." She trailed off. When they'd first arrived it had been wonderful. The fresh and cold powdered air was a delight, and the warmth of the observatory was ever so cosy. But then Aleksander had ruined it all, just like always.

 "You've been?" Kaz asked, for he knew well enough that her little snow-filled escapade must have occurred in the midst of her time away from Ketterdam.

 Aleksa said nothing more on the matter. Instead, she slouched in a very familiar chair before his desk, her head lolled over one side, one leg tossed over the other, "You really think we can do this?"

 "If anyone can, it's us."

 "We'll be up against soldiers and the like."

 "The Ice Court was built to keep them out... I don't think they quite had us in mind when building their fortress."

 "Us..." Aleksa repeated, her tone a soft hum that made Kaz's eyes flutter shut for just a desiring moment. He liked that word from her mouth, and so did she. "A mastermind and lockpick, a Shadow Summoner, a Wraith, a Sharpshooter, an explosive little runaway, a Heartrender and a Druskelle... What a strange group we are."

 She was right, it really was an odd mix. So many different people from different places and backgrounds... yet they all had one goal. Kaz waited a moment, surveying the light saw of her curled hair hanging over the chair. It was far longer now. The way she wiggled her fingers and the corners of the room grew darker... then, he noticed something on her finger.

 A ring. It wouldn't have been out of the ordinary, for most of her fingers were decorated with clunky and quite frankly, obnoxious, rings... but this one... this one was made of bone. It almost looked like... like a crow's foot curled around her digit. He blinked, eyes landing upon her other hand that rose and fell as it rested atop her stomach.

 There was another.

 "Those rings." Kaz said, never quite the man to keep his questions to himself, "They're made of bone."

 Aleksa resisted the urge to swallow, "Yes."

 "They look like talons, Aleksa."

 "Very astute observation."

 Then, like he always did, Kaz put two and two together in the blink of an eye, "Cas."

 His name made her eyes close and the rings encircling her fingers felt as though they'd cut them in two. She was sure the tips of her fingers were pink as though the bone was growing tighter and tighter, coiling around her flesh like a vicious vice.

 David had crafted them for her the moment dear little Cas had his life stolen from him; it had taken a while, and Aleksa hadn't known. But Alina had been the one to make the request and then present the two little rings.

 He'd always been an amplifier, a living and breathing one. Now Aleksa had a permanent reminder of him right on each of her hands. The bones were wound perfectly and it was a struggle to remove them, for what Grisha would ever dare part with their amplifier?

 Aleksa tossed her legs to the side, boots thumping against the ground... she splayed her hands over the desk, "Yes. That's all that's left of him."

 "What —"

 "The Black Heretic."

 The Black Heretic. Not the Darkling, not General Kirigan, not even Aleksander... Kaz bit his tongue, and he had to keep doing so as Aleksa gathered her hair into a single, thick clump and tossed it over one shoulder... there, where the billowing strands had rested, was an old wound.

 It had scarred over, pearl-like stings glimmering right before his eyes. It was like a slice over her chest... like someone had taken a knife to her.

 "The cut." Aleksa said, her voice ever so strangled, "It would have killed me if Cas hadn't taken the brunt of it."

 There was only one question Kaz could form in his mind, one that he knew would be met with absolute silence and blank eyes.

 'What happened while you were gone?' he wanted to question. He wanted to take her hand and utter those words... and if he'd been a different man in a different city with a different life, maybe he would have. But Kaz Brekker felt nausea in his gut, and he soon tucked his own hands beneath his desk, settling them upon his throbbing knee.

 The waves were piling higher and higher, and as though he was floating atop the ocean once again, he could almost smell the barge.

 Aleksa's eyes remained on the bones decorating her fingers. They were so starkly different to the other jewellery aligning her fingers. There was a golden ring with a glistening sun. A thick silver ring that looked as though it'd been made from an intricate handle of a spoon.

 There were others; thin bands stacked together, thick and bulky rings that clattered every time she tapped her fingertips upon the table... they were all gifts, and each and every one of them were reminders.

 The sun for Alina, the girl that had lost her life and found it again. The intricate one had been from Genya, another from Petra... then the bones of dear little Cas. She'd taken some of his feathers too, and David Kostyk had turned them to ashes before embedding them within a thin chain wrapping around her neck.

 "You hated him." Aleksa whispered, "He adored you."

 It was true. The bird, white utterly incessant... took absolute joy in flocking to Kaz's shoulder as though he were a tall perch. He'd pluck fabric from his coat, squawking whenever Kaz tried to bat him away.

 "I didn't hate him" Kaz confessed. There had been times when he truly had considered beating the thing across the beaks with his cane. Times when he'd contemplated swiping Jesper's gun... but he never would have. Aleksa might have killed him if he'd tested his luck in such a manner.

 "No?"

 "I'd have liked to have tied it to a tree, or perhaps silence it..."

 "You're awful."

 "I know."

 Aleksa blinked, "It's strange, you know. I always call you awful, and you always agree..." She slouched, eyes peering at the ceiling as her fingers made the room come alive within the darkness. Candlelight was swallowed, eaten like a spider to a fly caught in its web, "I never actually mean it. I should. Because you are terrible, and yet I just can't bring myself to mean it."

 Then she looked at him, almost recoiling as she found such a soft stare pinned to her features. For once, Aleksa almost felt her own cheeks heat up, and yet she'd been so conditioned against such a reaction.

 Kaz's eyes soon hardened, of course. It was only second nature to him, but the moment her lips parted once more, he felt the desire to banish his nature entirely. If only that were possible.

 "I suppose we're both terrible, really... Maybe that's why, when I look at you, I don't ever see Dirtyhands..." Aleksa let her stare move across his face; his sharp cheekbones, that pale skin that always looked like moonlight itself, his thin lips and curled nose. He was infuriating, "Just you. Kaz Brekker. Always you."

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DATE: 20/07/2023

:･ﾟ★ mhm. I'm screaming, actually.

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