𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐖𝐎 — little lynx

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 𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐊𝐒𝐀 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐃 of the nichevo'ya, of the feeling that had flooded her flesh the moment she'd twisted Aleksander's power to obey her once again. It had been thrilling, the sensation of such limitless power at her fingertips, trailing through her veins until they were black.

 Merzost. It was strange just how much Baghra had instilled that Aleksa should never touch it. It was dangerous, it was addictive... and yet Aleksa controlled it with ease, she could step away from such power without even a hint of magnetism. She didn't feel that draw back towards the darkness, she never felt that sensation of craving for something to the extent of going utterly insane.

 It was just another step, it was just slightly further to reach. But power was power; and while Aleksa Corvina Morozova loved the idea of being powerful, she just didn't have the same desires that Aleksander had. Aleksa didn't want more, because she didn't need it.

 She was strong, she could protect herself and her crows... and that was more than enough.

 She had used Merzost back in Hellgate; the obsidian blade tucked within her coat had been flooded with the darkness. It was a blade in which Aleksander had kept by his side for centuries; a blade capable of housing the shadows for a short amount of time.

 It required Merzost, to keep the shadows alive and chittering away within the metal... and it required a Shadow Summoner to reverse the effects of the blade. The darkness that had ebbed through poor Matthias' hand would have eaten away at him. Black would have spread up to his arms, to his neck... his sight would have been stolen, his sense of smell and taste. His hands would have rotted until his skin lost all sensation... he'd have been a corpse, and, eventually... he'd have become a monster.

 A monster to which Aleksa would have been able to tame with a mere glance... she'd never truly let the blade fulfil its purpose, but to watch someone submit to the shadows without even having to touch them... there was something rather satisfying about that.

 Merzost worked differently for those that call upon its strength; for Aleksander... Aleksa believed it ate away at his sanity, slowly taking away the control he thought he had. He had absolute control over the darkness, but no longer of his own mind. For Alina, it stole her powers and left her to trail her fingertips in trickling beams of sunlight...

 But for Aleksa, it was as though such power had made a deal with her. She had agreed to give up years of her long and drawn-out life all so that she could reach that little bit further. Its immediate effects were obvious; pale skin, sweat pooling atop her brows, and muscles and bones weakened to the point of collapse. It was a warning, those effects, it was Morozova telling her that yet another year had been plucked like a wounded petal.

 As they say in the Barrel, the deal is the deal. Her years, in exchange for power. Unlike Aleksander, she didn't have an addiction to fuel, thus with such control, she could decide when her powers would flourish and just how many years would be taken away.

 It was truly shocking, what greed could do to a man.

 Aleksa had awoken from that dream... or rather, memory, with a heaving chest and a stuttering heart. She could almost feel the sensation of having a nichyevo at her command, willing to obey her silent thoughts like a well-in-tune pet.

 Aleksa stretched her arms high above her head, watching as the moonlight trickled through the foggy window. A lone dewdrop trailed the length of the glass on the inside, while rain thundered down over the entirety of Ketterdam.

 It was almost impossible to see through Ketterdam's hazy twilight, especially when rainfall flooded the streets. She approached the window, fingers wiping away the condensation that had gathered; the city was still awake even in the deepest depths of the morning.

 People could be heard cheering and chanting, their words slurred as alcohol sloshed in their gullets. It was a little chilly that night, yet Aleksa made no move to pull on her trousers and snap her suspenders over her shoulders. She pried the door open with just a long white shirt covering her body.

 The hem brushed atop her knees as she climbed the staircase towards Kaz's office. Normally he'd have taken his leave and retreated to find his own night's rest, even if he'd only steal a few hours. But Aleksa knew tonight he'd be craned over his desk while going through his plan one last time.

 They were leaving tomorrow, and finally, their heist would take place. Aleksa had almost celebrated like a child when Kaz had told her to gather her things.

 "Knock knock..." Aleksa chimed, her voice as soft a gentle caress. Kaz perked up immediately and the candlelight showcased the darkness surrounding his pretty eyes. He looked exhausted, "Still plotting?"

 Kaz blinked, adjusting to the light flooding in from the hallway she'd pattered through, and when the door was closed behind her, giving him such a perfect view of her state, Kaz felt his mouth run rather dry. He'd grown used to watching Aleksa parade about with her buttons undone, with her rolled-up sleeves and the suspenders she'd let hang by her hips... but never had she snuck into his office with just a shirt to cover her flesh.

 How was it that a walking shadow made Kaz Brekker want to shuck off his gloves and skim a finger — He cleared his throat before that familiar and inevitable nausea could build and swallow him whole, "This isn't like our other heists."

 "I know, still..." Aleksa crept forth, "You should rest, we'll need our devious mastermind in tip-top shape, too."

 His eyes were glazed over, even despite the way his brain whirred at a million miles a minute. He was tired, even with the stone-cold mug of coffee by his side. Aleksa had dropped it off before she had left for the night, "I need to finish the numbers before we go. The old man wants them done."

 One of Kaz's coats that hung from the coat rack was stolen away. Aleksa folded it as perfectly as she could manage and used it as a cushion to soften the seat opposite Kaz's desk. She climbed atop, legs crossed beneath her, shirt pooling between them.

 She had felt Kaz's gaze follow her, and once more Aleksa was reminded that while she'd fought a war, and won... she was still just a teenage girl with teenage feelings. The little spark over her flesh was addictive.

 She supposed craving such a look was far more suitable than craving the sensation of Merzost, no?

 "Here," Aleksa said as she held out a hand. Her palm faced the ceiling, scars now alight by the candle flicking at the edge of his desk. Per Haskell was really milking them for all their worth before their little... trip, "Gimmie."

 Kaz shook his head, yet nonetheless split the pile beneath his fingers. A stack of paper was planted atop her wriggling fingers and she soon plucked a pen from the little pot. Kaz had always been reluctant to let anybody help him... yet over the times Aleksa had stolen his papers and filled in the blanks, he'd never once found a mistake.

 And even Dirtyhands could admit that he really did need to rest.

 "I'll approach with Inej tomorrow," Aleksa muttered as she scrawled. The plan was to meet up on the docks of Firth Harbour. Aleksa had pointed Kaz in the perfect direction, and Rajek had been more than happy to lend them his prized boat The Ferolind.

 Kaz hummed in turn, "Don't be late."

 "What if I'm fashionably late?"

 "I'll throw you overboard."

 Aleksa laughed, pen stilling just above the pages. She pointed it at Kaz, "You wouldn't dare."

 "No?"

 "I'm far too valuable for that, dear."

 You're right. He almost said. But if he had, it wouldn't have been for the reason she thought. The Dregs that were trusted enough to know of Aleksa's true power all likely thought Kaz kept her close, as his second, all because of the power at her fingertips...

 It was one of the reasons, of course, who would be foolish enough to let a Shadow Summoner slip through their fingers? But... she was valuable because... because —

 Kaz peered back down at his papers, allowing his previous thought to evaporate, "I do hope you'll be better dressed for our journey."

 Aleksa tossed her head back and laughter spilled through pink lips. He always made off-hand comments like that, and sometimes she could never quite guess if Kaz knew just how much he could tickle a person.

 Her hearty little belt had her missing the boyish glance he'd taken at her, like a sorry little schoolboy peering at their crush with pink besotted cheeks.

 "What?" Aleksa chimed, "You don't think this is suited for Fjerda? Maybe I could subdue the Druskelle with my bare legs..." Her head tipped to the side, loose curls spilling over her shoulders in waves, "They've probably never seen them before."

 "I'll make a note of that... Plan S." There was a crooked smile on his own lips, something he'd never let slip before anybody else.

 "I can always pop open the rest of my buttons? And I'm sure Jes would be more than happy to drop his trousers too."

 "A little too happy, perhaps."

 "Nonsense."

 "You know —" Aleksa almost wheezed as her boots thudded on the slick cobble of Ketterdam, her laces had come undone, dragging through murky puddles and yet she hadn't the time nor energy to knot them. Kaz, the delightful man that he was, had sent Aleksa and Inej scouring through the shops for two lumps of paraffin at the very last minute, and still, he'd demanded they arrive at the docks on time, "I hate him."

 Inej shook her head, her long coil of raven hair trailed the full length of her spine; Aleksa had spent the morning braiding it, "No you don't. Kaz is easy to hate, and yet you fail at it quite miserably."

 Aleksa paused with a blink, "Well if I'm to fail at something... Still, that was awfully truthful of you."

 "I say what I see, and I see that you don't hate Kaz..." Inej's eyes narrowed over the darkened streets. She'd seen Aleksa grow angry with the Bastard more times than she could count, but Aleksa was always the girl to bite back with words just as harsh as the ones he'd spout. She'd put him in his place, and they all thanked her immensely for it, "Kaz doesn't hate you, either."

 "Obviously, look at me. Adorable, lethal... And I do his work for him." Aleksa flicked a bundle of hair over her shoulder, she couldn't deny the fact that what her darling Inej had said, had sent a little shiver across her flesh. Kaz doesn't hate you.

 It was obvious. He often got incredibly infuriated with her, and incredibly exhausted with her relentless retorts and coy flirtations... but he had never once displayed true hatred. The thing is, Aleksa hadn't ever seen true hatred on the boy's face, not when it came to his crows.

 He was capable of it, that much was for certain. You could merely mention the name Pekka, and Kaz would dissolve from man into monster but not even Jespers incessant gambling, nor Inej's consistent picking at his plans could ever make Kaz Brekker truly hate them.

 After all, in Ketterdam, the crows were as close to a family as one could get.

 Usually, the Shadow and the Wraith would take to the rooftops in the midst of night. They'd scale homes and crooked buildings all to bypass the crowds; Inej had been a fantastic teacher when it came to climbing buildings. Now, however, Inej had insisted they take the ground; the poor girl had been running herself ragged in preparation for their heist. She hadn't slept a wink in two full days... still, the knowledge that they'd have to pass the House of Exotics would usually be enough for Inej to avoid the ground altogether.

 Inej didn't say it, but she felt safe today. She felt safe with Aleksa by her side... if Tante Heleen decided to rear that rouge-smeared face of hers... Inej had no doubt that Aleksa would beckon the shadows to curl around her ankles. She'd quite like to see Tante Heleen's face in the dirt.

 Aleksa felt her features grow tight as the Menagerie came into view; the place was horrid. It had been built to look like a tiered cage, and while the name House of Exotics made it seem like a silly little gimmick; a cage for animals... it was actually rather on the nose. For the poor girls inside, donning false silks and slippers were the ones caged. Trapped.

 It was a place for those who had a taste for something different. If they got bored and sought a towering Fjerdan, a Shu girl, a redhead from the Wandering Isle, a dark-skinned Zemeni... or a Suli dressed in fake silks, this was their destination. Every girl had their name — never were they addressed by their true names; Heleen had claimed it made the girls seem too... human.

 Leopard, mare, fox, raven, ermine, fawn, snake... Lynx. The last had been Inej's.

 But the clients never came seeking a girl, they never came seeking a human... they only came for brown Suli skin that they could praise and bite. They'd only come for the blonde of a Fjerdan so they could pull and tear... The animals were always the same, but the girls came and went.

 Aleksa could see the way Inej's easy steps had faltered, how she'd fallen a pace behind with her head tilted towards the ground. Aleksa paused for a moment, and when Inej was perfectly in-line with her, Aleksa slid her arm through her dearest friends, "You're never going back there." Aleksa whispered, voice carried by a chill, "I don't promise much, but that, I can assure you."

 Inej believed her. No doubt, no fear and no hesitance. Inej Ghafa knew that with the Shadow by her side, she would never return.

 They carried onward down the streets and the crooked buildings looked as though they were closing in. Not once did Aleksa fail to meet a stare, and not once did she let Inej drop her eyes once more. A squeeze to the fingers, a light pinch to the arm, no matter what it took, Inej would sail past without fear in her heart. She was the Wraith, what had she to fear?

 They made it through. Through bustling crowds of colourful dresses and masks. Through the facade that the House of Exotics put on show. Through the cloud of sickly sweet perfumes that wafted from within... and when they did, Aleksa bumped into Inej, "My fearless Wraith."

 Just when Inej made to smile so very wide she thought her lips might split, a stray hand curled around her forearm and tugged her backwards. Inej stumbled on her rubber-soled shoes and her arm slipped from the safety and solace of Aleksa's.

 Aleksa spun and her face twisted. A sneer that rivalled even Matthias Helvars tugged at each of her features, threatening to turn Tante Heleen to stone.

 "Hello, little lynx."

 Inej hissed as she tore her arm free, regaining her balance. She could already feel a shiver wracking her spine, she could feel hands pressed over every expanse of her flesh... she could feel breath against her neck, her chest...

 Tante Heleen had hardly changed in the time Aleksa had been away; her thick golden hair was still piled atop her head with one of those ridiculous peacock feathers sticking out like a cigar toppling from an old drunks mouth. The lines around her lips and eyes had grown deeper and her eyes themselves had gotten even colder. Aleksa had thought that impossible.

 Inej turned, only to come face to face with Heleen's favourite enforcer. Cobbet was a tall man with broad shoulders and a sneer on his ugly face. His resemblance to Big Bol was almost frightening.

 "Oh, no you don't, little lynx." Heleen preened, her fingers tapping her cigar through the air. A bundle of ashes toppled to the ground, sizzling as they slipped into a puddle.

 Aleksa didn't quite know what to do. If inej was agreeable, Aleksa would have flooded the streets with shadows, she'd have twisted her hand until a nichyevo crawled between the cracks in the path, devouring everyone whole... but was it her fight?

 "That's not my name," Inej gasped as her eyes flitted wildly.

 But it was when Heleen grabbed a fistful of Inej's deep-plum tunic that Aleksa finally snapped. That little threat that kept her in check was ever so fragile when it came to her crows. A knife flicked from her sleeve, the metal glinting so very harshly beneath the oil lamps lining the dull and winding streets.

 Nobody else could see, for they were huddled together so closely. Aleksa was sure to bring it just high enough to tap Heleen's chin, "Don't think I won't cut you, Heleen. I'd let her go, you don't need another line on that mug of yours."

 Heleen grew red, eyes dashing to Cobbet... but even that big fool knew that Kaz Brekker's shadow was not to be touched.

 "Clever boy," Aleksa cooed as Cobbet remained right where he was. His hat covered the view of his eyes, but Aleksa knew that if a particularly harsh breeze carried it from his bald head, she'd find fear in his gaze.

 The Wraith on her own was one thing. A lone Shadow was another... but having to oppose both of them? Now that was certain death, even without Dirtyhands nearby.

 "Go on then," Aleksa drawled as the cold edge of her knife pressed against Helen's skin, "Or would you like me to show you exactly why Kaz Brekker favours me?"

 There were whispers. While Kaz had the rumours of possessing monstrous claws beneath his gloves, of skin tinted red from the blood soaking his flesh... Aleksa had her fair share too. Some called her a siren; a girl who could lure even the most loyal of men towards her... and she'd devour them whole. They knew of the fights she'd delve within, the way her knuckles would split and pour with russet, yet even then she'd continue to laugh like a manic.

 Tante Heleen stepped back, hands fleeing from Inej's shirt. The Wraith toppled into Aleksa.

 "I know what you are, lynx." Heleen spat, stamping out her cigar beneath those gaudy red leather boots, "I know what you're worth down to the cent. Cobbet, maybe we should take her home now."

 None of them could be sure how it happened, but soon enough, poor Cobbet's finger was severed from his hand, left to bleed into the murky puddle it had landed within; a sad little concoction of blood, mud and rainfall.

 Aleksa wiped the blade along her finger, gathering a dollop of his blood... and just so that they could see Heleen squirm, Aleksa flicked it towards the peacock, "Oh dear... It seems you've gotten a little too handsy this evening, Heleen. I'll be sure to let Kaz know that I took a finger rather than a life... despite the fact that you've threatened to back out of a deal. That's blasphemous in the Barrel, don't you know?"

 "You little —"

 "— Oh do go on, I love this part — The insults are always so colourful."

 Heleen withdrew, her face cast in shadows, obscuring the blood that splattered over her cheek. Aleksa found the colour actually suited her... perhaps she should have drawn some. Heleen jutted her head, and soon a moaning and groaning Cobbet retreated, holding his fresh wound close.

 "I can bide my time," Heleen whispered like a snake hissing in the dead of night, "You'll wear my silks again, little lynx, I promise..." Then, Heleen looked to Aleksa. She eyed the bloodied blade still within her fingers, the brief flash of anger within her eyes, "And you... maybe I'll get you, too. Enjoy your night." Then she snapped open her powder-blue fan and disappeared into the crowd, following the little trail of scarlet that Cobbet had left behind.

 Aleksa didn't bother to watch her go, no, instead she faced her dear Inej. Her palms were placed atop Inej's shoulders with a movement so slow she could have approached a wild boar, "Inej?"

 Inej was frozen, shaking.

 "Inej, it's alright. She's gone." Aleksa tried once more... and when all she received was another wheezing gasp, Inej became coiled within her arms, "Inej, I swear, you give me the word and the Barrel will find itself free of that wretch."

 Inej Ghafa couldn't breathe, she couldn't see or feel anything... but then that warmth etched in again. The familiarity of safety that Aleksa always promised to give her. She hate that she couldn't free herself, that Aleksa had to be there just to give Heleen a taste of what she really deserved... but each time Inej found her eyes staring into those of her monster, she shook less and less.

 Inej's arms finally moved then, wrapping around her dear friend, "You took Cobbets finger."

 Yes, well... I am a thief."

 "You'll have to explain that to Kaz."

 "I'll take his finger too, should he complain."

 "You're a menace."

 "That I am, darling Inej, that I am."

 When the harbours of Ketterdam finally came into view, the music and lights of The Lid had settled, disappearing almost entirely. All that could be heard was the whistle of the cold winds rushing by, carrying sea salt through the skies. Crashing waves roared ahead, bashing against the harbours and rocking the boats dotted along the torrent.

 There were no crowds to consume them, no puffs of sickly perfume to clog their lungs, no facades in sight... except for the little boat they'd soon be boarding. From where the girls stood, they could just about make out the very top of one of the Tidemaker towers. Lights always burned there, a little spark in the night sky, a permanent star. The Tidemakers within were a select group of talented Grisha who kept the tides permanently high over the landbridge that otherwise would have connected Kerch to Shu Han

 Aleksa could recall the countless times Kaz had rattled off his ideas of who was on the Council of Tides, but even he had yet to learn their identities, where they resided, or how their unwavering loyalty to the Kerch had been guaranteed. The Tidemakers kept a close eye on the harbours, too, and if a signal went up from the harbourmaster or a dockworker, they'd alter the tides and keep anyone from heading out to sea.

 Tonight, however, there would be no such signal. Between Kaz's contacts and the names jotted within Aleksa's little book... the right people had been offered the right bribes. They'd sail without trouble.

 Aleksa could have groaned like a petulant child when Inej tugged her along, breaking into a jog. They were late... very late. Of course, that was partly Kaz's fault for sending them on a little errand run right before it had been time to depart, so he could, quite frankly, keep his complaints to himself.

 There was a small smattering of mist rising off the water, it cast a haze over the docks, obscuring everything within their sights. But both Aleksa and Inej had grown far too used to squinting through Ketterdams fog-laden skies, so the haze was little more than a bother.

 Through the burst of vapour, Aleksa could just about spy the rest of her dear crows waiting ever so dutifully near the pier. They were almost unrecognisable in the outfits they sported. They had forgone their usual suits and waistcoats, instead, they were all draped in the nondescript clothes of sailors — roughspun trousers, boots, thick wool coats and terribly ugly hats.

 Kaz looked particularly misplaced. Gone was his sleek and sharp obsidian suit. His intricately detailed waistcoat had been shed and his billowing black coat had been replaced by thick and bulky wool. He looked rather silly, what with that head of slicked hair still poking out above his innocent facade.

 Behind them was the Ferolind that Rajek had been so kind as to let them borrow. He hadn't asked any questions, he hadn't told a soul that his dear little fishing boat was leaving the docks. He'd even been as helpful as to hang a fresh new flag; it was the colourful flag of the Haanraadt Bay Company. To anybody else, with their flag and their ugly little costumes, they'd look like simple Kerch trappers trying to make an honest living... it was quite laughable.

 Aleksa pushed forth, heavy boots smacking against the uneven docks. If they hadn't been cornered by the delightful Heleen, they might have already been well on their way to the frozen wasteland of Fjerda.

 Their crew was minimal, made up of Dregs that had once been sailors. Those who had managed to work their way up the ranks to the point Kaz trusted them... or, at least trusted them to sail a ship without capsizing them.

 "Wait," Inej muttered, coming to an immediate halt. While Aleksa had been far too busy giggling at Kaz's new look in her head, Inej had made a swift count of their crew... they'd brought on four extra members to help sail the schooner since none of the crows quite knew their way around the rigging enough to comfortable sail... but the number was off.

 "What —" But Aleksa couldn't finish her words, for her boot lurched in something slippery, something... red.

 She looked down, a curtain of hair obscuring her face. Blood. There was blood dribbled beneath her boots in an ever-growing puddle. It streamed like a river, trailing from a body cast to the side. It was Drix, one of the Dregs that was supposed to make the journey with them. The was a knife in his gullet, and it appeared that whoever had stashed it there... had twisted it like a key.

 Aleksa's response to the view was instantaneous, without thought. Her hand curled around Inej's, pulling her back all the while her pink lips parted in a shout, "Kaz!"

 But they had been too late. Her call had been too late. The schooner exploded and the air was filled with heat that knocked both Aleksa and inej off their feet.

 The docks became alight, a spark under the dull twilight cast ahead... someone had spilled. But there was no time to wonder who might have betrayed them, for all Aleksa could feel were the blisters growing on her flesh.

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DATE: 29/07/2023

:･ﾟ★ mhm aleksa starring in the six of slays, actually. i adore aleksa and inej, i missed them <3

i know y'all have been craving this part (well, the next couple of parts)... feral kaz? eyeballs overboard and definitely expect a little peep of feral aleksa ;)

please remember to leave feedback & comments. i require a certain number of comments before i publish the next update. please give me a follow to keep updated and receive sneak peeks! do not leave 'update' comments, you will be muted.