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#I Did Not need to know this much about stars in the grishaverse and in real life
iamthecomet · 26 days
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@purlty23 tagged me in This game and I'm super excited about it! (I tried to reblog the original post and just tack on but tumblr hates me)
Thanks Blue, this was so fun!
I'm tagging: @amara-among-the-stars, @mac-and-thefox, @littlemoon-beam, @divine-misfortune and whoever else also wants to expose their sins to the internet. Under the cut, because LONG.
Xena Warrior Princess - Passive Enjoyer Only passive because I was too young to be anything else. Barely counts, except that this show was my first real obsession so I have to include it. I dressed up as Xena for halloween when I was like…5. The pictures are incredible.
Good Charlotte - Mostly passive As is a trend with a lot of these, I wrote a little fan fic, and daydreamed a thousand scenarios, but never shared any of it. I was mildy obsessed with Benji Martin, but I didn't really get involved beyond that.
LOTR - Creative Enjoyer The first fan-fic I ever posted on the internet (I was twelve, people were mean). I didn't make any friends within the fandom. But I was so determined to write for it that I had an entire novel planned out--that eventually became an original book idea instead.
Harry Potter- Mostly Passive I read a lot of HP fanfic, but not as much as others. I didn't get involved in online conversations. I did dabble in writing some fics that I hid from the world and never finished.
The Boston Red Sox - Creative Enjoyer Ok. Now you know why I said I was exposing myself. Look I was like 12-14. My best friend and I filled entire notebooks with our MANY chaptered fic that spanned the entire 2004 Red Sox Season, that we started the day they won the world series that year. We hand wrote it all, I transcribed it into my computer where it still exists somewhere. It was our EVERYTHING. And it has never (and will never) see the light of day. I may have posted some Red Sox fic on the internet in my Live Journal days, and I made a bunch of online friends within that community, but they never saw THE fic.
Rammstein - Creative Enjoyer Again, my best friend and I had a notebook with a long form rammstein fic in. We didn't go as far with this one. And I didn't get involved in any online communities. Though, our love for Rammstein lived a lot longer than our fic writing did.
Twilight - Creative Enjoyer In that I wrote and posted a single fic about Alice.
Lost - Passive Enjoyer. I read a billion Skate fics. Probably thought about writing my own, but I don't think I ever actually did. Was obsessed with this show until the last season. I still have never seen the last episode.
Vampire Academy (THE BOOKS) - Passive Enjoyer. Not a lot online. Read some fic. Was so obsessed with this book that I started to write a fanfic where we got to see some of the story from Dimitri's persepective and accidentally created and entire new plot and new characters and accidentally created my own CHILD of an original novel because of it.
Grishaverse (Shadow and Bone/Six of Crows/Rule of Wolves) - Passive Enjoyer Loved these books. Loved every single character. Read as much fanfic as I could find. Accidentally spoiled a death in one of the books with fanfiction.
Avenged Sevenfold - Creative Enjoyer Short lived. Read some INCREDIBLE fics on the basically defunct site Mibba and thought "I can do that" and was fighting for my life in college. Wrote a few chapters of a fic. Got decent feedback. Got bored immediately.
Supernatural - passive enjoyer Read some fic. Took me like 15 tries to actually get through the whole show. Adored it, never went very far with it.
Marvel (Specifically The Winter Soldier) - Passive Enjoyer. I should have been a creative enjoyer, but was too afraid to write anything or put myself out there. (I spent all of my time after high school/college thinking that fanfic was a waste of time and I should never write it because I needed to be serious. What a waste). Still mildly obsessed with BuckyNat. I adore Bucky and Black Widow. If they put out another good movie I could see myself falling down that rabbit hole and actually letting myself land. The trailer for The Winter Soldier changed my brain chemistry (nevermind the whole move).
Fallout 4 - Passive Enjoyer I could read Sole Survivor/Paladin Danse fics every day forever. I know that's insane. Stop looking at me like that.
Ghost - Creative Enjoyer. Finally allowed myself to write whatever the fuck I want and have fun with it and it has changed my entire fucking life. Wish I'd done it sooner. So glad I got to do it now and with all of you. ♥
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greensaplinggrace · 3 years
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Went to start writing fanfic and needed to look something up in the books and somehow spent four hours gathering every single quote centering around stars in the trilogy to analyze them. I hate everything.
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musicallisto · 3 years
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hi love! congratulations on such a wonderful milestone! i’ve been following you for ages so this is almost as exciting for me haha
could i please get a 🍨 for the grishaverse/six of crows? (whichever you feel fits!) i’m straight female who is an istj, slytherin, and 6w5! i also took the grisha quiz and am apparently a alkemi (but would i truly want to be grisha? the jury is still out on that). im 5’7 with blonde hair, brown eyes, and glasses. i’m a sagittarius sun, pisces moon, and aquarius rising!
i’m pretty independent, and believe no friendship demands blind faith. i’m probably too selfish (which i don’t see as a bad thing, personally), and can be quick to anger.
HOWEVER! i’m not all angst. i’m introverted, shy, & frankly bad with emotions (both feeling and expressing), BUT i also love to laugh, and will not stop talking to you about things i like once we’re friends.
i love that first sip of coffee, the silence after it snows, and the stars on a clear night. i’ve had multiple concussions from sports (which tells you all you need to know about my self-preservation skills) but i will take a day in bed reading or watching various franchise movies over adventure most days. i also lovelovelove listening to music — specifically classical!
thank you so much in advance !! and take all the time you need, this is a fun celebration so i wouldn’t wanna stress you out :) congrats again!!
hi! here’s your vanilla milkshake! (also - please come off anon because first of all, you’ve been following me for a long time? my heart melts. but ALSO! you sound like the most amazing and fascinating person and i adore your personality.) i thought of going for a shadow and bone character to diversify a little bit - but who am i to resist the call of kaz brekker?
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no words can express my excitement at being able to use an actual gif for Kaz.
we all know Kaz and we all know his emotional turmoil. expect the slowest of slow-burns; expect to even wonder if the candle is lit at all.
But it is, I promise. It is lit and it seeps into his heart in ways that he doesn’t understand, and frankly, that scare him a little.
He’s never been good at that whole falling thing. He’s more than content to sit above the rest, and leave the tumbling to Inej.
So when he has to face the music and understand that you’re not getting away, and neither are his growing fondness for you? He’s totally helpless. Serves him right for not learning how to fall sooner.
At first, he thought it was mere fascination that drew him to you. Sure, it takes a lot for him to be impressed... but even he has to admit that you are a lot. Not in the lot in the exuberant sense of all these merchants, but assured and strong in your mastery of your powers, and in your quiet competence.
You craft most of the poisons and antidotes the Dregs use, and are unafraid to yield them yourself; you don’t mind getting your hands dirty; you’re reliable, loyal, easy to trust, and, surprisingly to him, easy to befriend as well. Although he doesn’t make a big effort to befriend you anyway; but whenever he goes down to visit you in your clandestine lab, he ends up spending much more time than he originally planned talking to you.
It’s just so easy to forget the grime of the streets above in that peaceful laboratory, with the distant sound of violin and chemical solutions bubbling somewhere indistinct. And your total concentration, as you mix up the poisons and conjure the blasting powders with deadly precision, is a magnificent sight to see.
At first, Kaz is guilty of sending you on missions for him, or confining you to your lab. You don’t mind the work, and understand that it is where you are most useful, but quickly tell Kaz that you are not at his disposition whenever he wants to run his errands; that you are his equal, and that you work for the Dregs because someone must feed these poor children, not because you would blindly give up your life for him.
In other words: you owe him nothing, and you’re not his lackey. And he better understand that quickly, lest you leave and offer your services to a cause that will remember you for more than your craftsmanship.
It’s a wake-up call for him, surely; it’s when he realizes that you have an independent soul, that you know no ties nor bounds, that you are neither a Kerch nor a Ravkan nor a Shu, but truly a citizen of your own heart, and that there is nothing tying you to him except your good will.
And the idea that you might disappear from his life as quickly as you barged in is enough to paralyze him for a good second. But then he regains his composure.
And asks you to stay, please.
(Not for the poisons, not for the magic, not for the money, but for me, he almost adds, but he can’t get the words out, and doesn’t.)
From that point on, you go on missions with Kaz and the Dregs, and no longer for them, standing as tall as the other Crows.
And your relationship with Kaz grows seemingly a little stronger for it. He opens up a little more, sometimes slips in a little something that might even be considered a compliment.
The others have told him time and time again that you are a fun and happy person to be around, and he couldn’t believe them, because all he ever saw of you was the focused and precise Grisha synthesizing arsenic or negotiating contracts by his side. But as he opens up to you, and on the rare occasions you’re both at the Crow House, he listens to you excitedly tell a story to the others Dregs crowded around a greasy table, he understands what they mean.
You are fascinating.
It’s not the Alkemi in you, it’s not your deadly aim nor your rigor with your work... it’s you. It’s in the excitement in your voice when you talk about something you love, and the care you put in making space for Kaz in your busy schedule.
“I thought you didn’t want to see me?”
“I don’t want to see you when you boss me around. Otherwise, you’re not so terrible to spend time with.”
(Which, in your shared language of restriction and shiness, means “I appreciate you a lot and enjoy your company more than I let on”.)
It’s in your relaxed face when you listen to classical music... when you’re working late nights at the lab and start humming along to the piano on a beaten gramophone that Jesper, of all people, stole for you one day - a Romantic Fjerdan melody, nothing to do with the industrial rhythms of Ketterdam, and your feet begin swaying to the music without you noticing.
He just stopped by to bring you the list of what he’ll need to take care of the Ice Court guards... but he’s taken aback, on the doorstep, watching you enjoy the music like a careless ballet dancer. He’s never seen you quite so relaxed...
... maybe that’s when he falls for good.
And maybe you know he’s fallen for good when you stop by unannounced at his office at the Crow House to hand him the poisoned blades he’s asked for... and you find him listening to the exact same waltz you were playing when he arrived.
You never took Kaz for the classical music type - you do a double-take before he looks up at you, his face and lips even, but a glimmer of hope twinkling in his dark eyes.
“You wanted?”
“To see you.”
His brow perks up.
“However did I get so lucky?”
But he gestures for you to step in, to get closer to him, to fill his dull office with your heady scent, both poison ivy and white rose.
Maybe, under the right night sky, with the right alignment of stars, and after the right snowfall on a deserted plain, he will hear the same music again, and this time he will clumsily extend this hand.
Not to dance, not even for you to take. Just to hold it out for you. Just so you know he would go to any lengths to keep you safe.
But for now, you have a heist to plan.
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800 follower sleepover CLOSED!
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yesimwriting · 3 years
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Falling Angels: chapter two
A/n took me longer to get around to writing part 2 than i thought!! i didn’t know there was an audience for this idea but im glad you guys liked it!!
Im adding a country to the grishaverse to make my story work,, def not a big deal i just needed a country in which i could control the history of without worrying about conflicting with cannon lol 
Link to part one: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/yesimwriting/652318577650696192 (lmk if this works ive never linked something to a tumblr post lol)
Series Summary: Y/n is a rising star in the most famous circus in Ketterdam because of her ability to see the future. Unfortunately for her, Kaz Brekker knows more of her backstory than he should, and he’s willing to use that to his advantage. The one thing he’s not betting on? That he doesn’t know her entire story
Chapter summary: Y/n gets a visitor before getting tricked into the most dangerous show of her life. 
Pairng: SOC x reader, Kaz Brekker x sunshine-y! Psychic! Reader 
--
My father seemed to love me more after two glasses of something amber. It was after these two glasses that he would tell me realities his inebriated self believed I needed to internalize. He’d pat my head affectionately and smiled at me as he told me that the world was a bad place. Most of his lessons are lost in my mind, but the one I remember most clearly is that there’s no such thing as a kept secret. There’s always a leak or a flaw or a factor you could not account for. He told me that if I wanted to keep a secret, I would have to decide what I was willing to risk for it. 
I know from Seria’s reaction to his presence that listening to Kaz is a risk, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take for my secret. “I don’t know what you think I am, but you’re mistaken.” It doesn’t really matter that he believes me. I have the paperwork I need to disprove him. “I have to get to my tent.” 
“The princess gets her own tent?” His words are saturated by mock casualness but I can feel his pride on how he delivered that line. 
My body is still tense from balancing over flames and his confidence only adds to my desire to unravel. I can’t get angry here. Not at him. Not with the way he grips that cane of his. “I don’t understand what--” 
“You may be able to play pretend here where no one wants to look twice at you, but I know what you are.” His stiffness leaves my skin prickling. “I know who you are.” 
I swallow back my panic. “Then who am I?” 
“You’re that king’s bastard--the one with a high bounty on her head.” Don’t back down. Even the smallest crack will confirm his story. “As long as she’s returned alive.” 
Thoughts of what my father would do to me if ever given the chance strike me with more anxiety than his presence does. “I’ve heard of the girl you’re talking about,” I admit, the lie leaving me as easily as the air leaves my lungs when I exhale. “But I’m not her.” 
“You’re not from Ketterdam, if you were you would have known who I was after you friend referred to me as Dirtyhands.” I have no defense, but I never claimed to be from Ketterdam. “You make your business claiming to be a psychic.” I am a psychic, but now is not the time to make that argument. “Elkosa is a relatively small and self efficient port kingdom, the island is nothing more than a jagged coastline barely larger than Ketterdam, but I have connections in all places.” He knows someone from Elkosa? I have to fight the instinct to move all of my weight on the balls of my feet, prepared to run. “A captain of the royal fleet told me the story of the night the King’s bastard ran into the meeting room the night before ten ships were meant to sail to Ravka.” 
He studies my reaction as I struggle to keep my expression blank. “None of that seems connected.” 
“Patience is a virtue most Saints are familiar with.” I roll my eyes. “The bastard couldn’t have been more than nine at the time, but the guards did not want to let her in. The King told them to let her interrupt. The sailor noted this because he had never made an exception to his meeting before. The girl described a nightmare to her father, a nightmare of a storm and ten dead birds. The king did not comfort her, she finished her story by saying that he asked to know about all of her dreams. She went back upstairs and the King continued the meeting as normal but the next day the King cancelled the trip.”
I remember that night as the night I realized that if I’m not careful, I’ll feel what I see in my visions. It felt like I was drowning. I felt the death of each of those men and instead of comforting me, my father nodded once like I had offered him advice and sent me back to my room. “And?” My defense is weak, my mind too lost in the memories of drowning. “Many smaller countries are superstitious.” 
“The next day the worst storm to have impacted that ocean occurred. For four nights and three days the storm continued.” 
I press my nails into my palms. “You don’t believe that I am precognitive, so that sailor’s unverified story has nothing to do with me.” 
“A princess that can see the future disappears at the same time a failing circus hires a girl who has no business in this city who claims to be able to see the future.” He adjusts his stance, taking pressure off the cane as if he’s preparing to need to use it for something else. “I am not fool enough to believe in coincidence.” 
“And I am not fool enough to crack beneath the vague threats of a man. In my experience, men always threaten with a blade when really all they’re in possession of is a butter knife. Try to drag me from here kicking and screaming, find a way to incapacitate me and put me on a ship to Elkosa, but when the King sees that you brought him a stranger he will have your head.” 
He blinks, expression hard as stone. I tense, preparing for a physical blow. “I didn’t expect you to be a half-decent liar, but I should have.” I bite my tongue to avoid resorting to something I can’t take back. Like begging. “Even if it’s in only half your blood.” 
“I am not her.” My stubbornness burns more than the need to survive. I inhale, hoping to shake the grasp of the sensation but it only worsens. The pinch of dread in my chest is heavy and familiar. A vision. 
No. Not now--not in front of him. I push against it even though I know that only makes it worse. Not now. Not now. I should be grounding myself but all I can think about is how stupid I am and how bad this situation is.
--
“I’m not an idiot, I know to be quiet. I see myself crouched somewhere dark. 
“Being defensive doesn’t make you any more intelligent.” It takes me a minute to recognize Kaz in the darkness. 
We’re somewhere small, our backs against the same wall but our shoulders do not touch. This vision is enshrouded by the feel of panic. 
This other me grimaces, but her eyes lack anger, “Remind me why I agreed to help you again?” 
“You never told me why,” he admits, “you can change your mind on participating and I can change my mind on whether or not you're more useful than your father’s money.”
Something loud crashes from behind the door we’re both staring at. “You’ll have no use for me or my father’s money if we die here.” I squeeze my hands together. 
He hesitates, “My ghost will.” 
The future-me almost smiles. “I wonder if I’ll be able to see ghost futures.” I hesitate, something strange behind my eyes. “I wonder if that can exist, if there’s a future beyond endings.” 
Future-Kaz is silent for a long second. “There should be,” he says, “for someone like you, at least.” 
I watch the way I take in his words. “You’d be there, too,” my voice is low, “your ghost at least.” I turn my head, staring at the door instead of him, “If you weren’t, I’d miss the brooding.” 
--
The vision leaves me with sweaty palms and swirling thoughts. All of my visions do that. Not all of them make me feel so confused. Apparently, he needs help and I agree to do so. At one point we’ll be pushed into a life or death situation and I won’t loathe him. 
I blink twice, forcing myself to hold onto the reality in front of me. I don’t have to agree--the future isn’t set in stone. For all I know tomorrow morning I’ll have a vision in which he kills me. 
“Are you ignoring me?” 
Shaking my head, I turn to face him. “You need help.” I don’t wait for his reaction. “You’re not here to return someone to the King of Elkosa, you’re here because you need someone that can see the future.” 
“I--” 
“It’s not that you won’t take me to Elkosa, it’s that you’d rather use my abilities for something.”
I’m confusing him again, but that’s okay. I’d rather deal with him confused than angry. “I need to know how a certain business deal of mine is going to be worth what it costs.”
He’s spent the entire time claiming he doesn’t believe in my power. Was that some kind of tactic? In the vision I saw, despite the panic surrounding the situation I didn’t feel panicked around him. The probability of that future occurring is probably low. I’ve been wrong before, the future changes too much for me to know everything. 
“That’s not how readings work,” I admit, “I don’t have that much control on them. Most of them come to me randomly. The events I see always involve me or someone I care about to a certain capacity. I can give someone a general glimpse into their future but I can’t promise I’ll see what they want. Sometimes I can see the general vision by just focusing on their energy but usually I need some physical contact for it to work.” That seems like a fair explanation. “Oh--and not all of my predictions come true, most are blurry, few are solid--the future is always moving.” 
Wait...the vision I saw where I was with Kaz wasn’t blurry. Those can be wrong, but it’s much rarer. Do I really agree to this? 
“Then maybe I should make it involve you.” His aggression has me forcing myself to stand my ground. He can threaten me all he wants but that won’t change things. “Or take the money your father would give me and cut my losses.” 
Every time I’ve purposefully destroyed a solid vision, something bad has happened. I’m genuinely considering it. “What do you need a psychic for, anyways?” 
“To get through the Fold.” 
Despite everything, I laugh. “I’ve never seen anyone get through the Fold, literally or in my visions.” 
He’s unphased by my doubt. “It’s happened.” 
I really don’t want to help him. “Well then good luck, I’m happy to part ways here.” 
I manage one step forward before he moves his cane in front of my path. I’m getting tired of this. “You’re assisting me one way or the other, whether that aid will be financial or through your services is up to you.” 
Anger pinches in my stomach the way it often does when I’m told what to do. The one thing centering me is the vision still reflecting in my thoughts. There’s no denying it--I had felt comfortable with him. There is a future in which I feel comfortable with him and I’m not sure I’ll be able to avoid it. 
“I won’t get in trouble for you,” I tell him, “The Ringmaster holds onto those indentured to him, especially the commodities that bring him profit.” 
There’s something stiff about his silence. I wonder if he’s always like this, pushing the weight of his presence onto those around him without saying a word. “When I have a goal, it is achieved. I’ll speak to him.” 
I cannot imagine a conversation I want to be involved in less. The Ringmaster and this man that Seria had labeled ‘Dirtyhands’. “I just had a vision--I saw your entire conversation and it ends with you missing an arm.” His stoic expression does not shift. “Okay, I’m aware that it wasn’t the funniest joke, but throw me a bone--you threatened to kidnap me and sell me to my father in order to extort me and I’ve been nothing but polite to you.” 
He’s quiet for a moment, something in his expression changing in a way I can’t read. “All you’ve done is lie since the moment you started to speak to me.” 
The optimist in me would like to think that his annoyance counts for banter. I shrug, feeling a little lighter than I did a second ago. I’m certainly not comfortable but I’m starting to see how to put up with the tension without letting it strain me. “Well, polite for my standards.” 
I let him brood. “You must have done well as a royal.” 
My past cuts through the peace I managed to grab onto. It’s not his fault, he has no way of knowing what the castle was like for me. I open my mouth, but I don’t know what I’m going to say. “I had my moments,” I finally settle on, hoping the echo of pain isn’t visible behind my eyes. 
I guess it doesn’t matter if he sees me bleed. He’s heartless, and I hate sympathy. 
“Y/n,” Seria’s voice is genuine anger, “You’ve turned into an idiot--first the tightrope walk and now entertaining whatever deal he’s trying to coax from you.” I love Seria, she’s the reason I didn’t die in the street when I first arrived in Ketterdam, but she sees me as a mindless child. “Whatever he told you, whatever he promised you--it’s a lie.” 
“He hasn’t promised me anything.” I need to calm her down. Once she’s calm, everything will be normal again. “And he knows.” I don’t have to turn to feel the way Seria gapes at me. “He knows who I am, so I have to do what he wants.” 
“You never have to do anything a man is forcing onto you, y/n. We’ll find a way--” 
“Seria, it’s fine,” I reach to touch her arm, “I’ll be fine, you can’t protect me from everything and you don’t have to.” 
Kaz throws a pointed glare at the man who was with him earlier. When did the stranger get here? “Boss, she’s faster than she looked, but I have what we need to get the girl--” 
“You’re late,” Kaz sighs, bored, “she’s agreed.” 
Wait--what was he going to do if I didn’t agree? “Out of curiosity, what are you talking about?” The man blinks twice, squeezing a rag between his ring-clad fingers. “You were going to use chloroform to kidnap me, weren’t you?” 
For some reason I don’t understand, the stranger gives me a look that’s a cross between sheepish and charming. “Nothing personal.” 
“Or original.” 
Seria pinches my arm. “Y/n,” she scolds, “your sense of humor is going to kill me one of these days.” 
I cringe, pulling my arm away. “When I met you, you were pickpocketing in the pleasure district, please remember that.” 
She rolls her eyes. “An attitude like that is going to leave you without a place to sleep at night.” 
I take her comment for the empty threat it is. Every other day she’s threatening to kick me out of her private trailer so that I’m forced to fight for cots or speak to the Ringmaster about my lodging arrangements. He’d give me what I want, but speaking to him feels so slimy I’d sleep in the woods before trying it. 
“Kaz.” I turn my head in time to see the girl that gave me the advice about the tightrope walker. “We need to go, he’s coming soon--you’ll do better to speak to him in the morning after she’s gone, that way he has nothing to hold over your head.” 
“Once I’m gone?” The girl had called me a Saint. I can appeal to her. “I’m not--I’m not going anywhere, I said I’d help.” 
Her eyes widen, sympathy reflected clearly in her dark irises. “There was never a version of this in which you ended up staying here.” I hear a hint of apology in her voice. “You won’t believe me, but I promise this will be better for you.” All of her pity is gone with those, replaced by something hard.
Seria responds for me, “I think you should go.” 
“What?” 
She almost smiles, but her eyes are painfully sad. “I never wanted you to be here forever. I don’t trust these people, but I trust their ability to get you out of here, even if only for a little while. Bad things are coming, and I think you’ll miss the worst of it if you go now.” 
What she alludes to is a blade in my heart. “You want me to leave you here to deal with it?” 
“Y/n, I’ve been hurt here more times than I can count--”
“No, I won’t leave y--” 
Seria squeezes my shoulder, “It’s not forever.” When she wants something, it’s almost impossible to get around it. “Besides, if I need you, you’ll see it.” 
My world feels to have lost the vibrance of color. I’ve left so much, but I let myself believe I wouldn’t leave her. I pull her into the hug. “The moment I see a vision of you in any type of danger, I’m coming back.” I hug her even tighter when she tries to pull away so that I can whisper something in her ear, “I’ll use this opportunity to leave the Ringmaster and then I’ll get you out, and together we’ll leave Ketterdam. We’ll find your child, like you always wanted to and they’ll know that they're lucky because they’re the only kid in the world to have you as a mother.” 
She squeezes me so tightly I find it hard to take full breaths. “Two,” Seria whispers, “I have two children.”
My eyes burn as her words find their way into my heart. “I love you, Seria.” 
“I love you too, my star,” she pulls away enough so that I can look her in the eye, “you don’t like being called a Saint, but I can’t think of anyone more deserving of the title.” 
Tears prick my eyes as she releases me. “I’ll find you.” 
“He’ll be coming soon,” the girl warns, “He spoke to an advisor about wanting to find you after the show.” 
No doubt to praise the fire stunt he forced onto me. Bastard. I nod once but I don’t move. I can’t bring myself to leave Seria until the girl places a hand on my elbow. 
--
Falling Angels Taglist: @glowstick-lesbian @cashlum @whatiswrongwithpeople @pass-me-jeez-it @thecraziestcrayon
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katyamorrigan · 3 years
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‘Hope is the thing with Feathers’ by KatyaMorrigan
For the Grishaverse Reverse Mini-Bang 2021, run by @grishaversebigbang, and with stunning art created by @wqemzz-blog - click here for her incredible illustration of Kaz and Inej!
Captain Inej Ghafa has returned to Ketterdam for the first time in three years. In all that time, The Wraith never docked at Berth 22 for more than an afternoon, and the crew never strayed further than the harbour front.
Could she have stopped by sooner? Absolutely. Did she choose not to for entirely business-related reasons? Absolutely not. She has no idea what her friends will make of seeing her again after so long, least of all Kaz. But there is hope - hope that in that time, he will have grown as much as she has. That he will be the kind of person that she can share a pot of tea with without a thought of how he might feel about her.
Because Inej isn't done with being a pirate yet. But it doesn't mean she wants to be at sea forever.
I had the best time getting to write this fic based on the idea proposed by Emma. So much of a good time, in fact, that I overwrote it by around 4k words in the end... This is the much more civilised 2k word version - the full iteration of the story is on my AO3 ), but this significantly neater version will remain on my Tumblr for good. I really hope that you like it, and check out @wqemzz-blog for all your beautiful art needs!
Link to the fic on AO3: ‘Hope is the thing with Feathers’
And available to read below the cut here:
‘Hope is the thing with Feathers’
It occurred to Inej as she entered Kaz’s office for the first time in three years, that in the past she might have second-guessed the meaning of his offer to have tea together. They had just spent a few hours talking during dinner – mostly talking over Jesper and Wylan, who had hosted the meal and were either polite or forgiving enough to allow them to dominate the conversation with reflections on Inej’s time beyond Ketterdam. Three years was a long time when you had last been teenagers breaking into the Ice Court together, when you were now the owner of a galleon that hunted slaver ships from Fjerda to the Wandering Isle. There was plenty to discuss between them, and it seemed that Kaz had changed enough to ask her to stay with no apprehension, so that they could be in each other’s company a little while longer.
The attic room was identical to her memories of it but her gaze was drawn to Kaz, with ungloved hands, stooping to open the cupboard and bring out two tins. With a tentative look at her, he placed them on the desk and opened them. Inej couldn’t help laughing.
“When did Dirtyhands start keeping cookies in his office?” she teased. “Two kinds, as well.”
He gave a permissive smile. “Nina may have had more influence over me than I would like to admit. She sends them to me from Ravka.”
Feeling a bittersweet rush of longing for her friend, Inej reached over and helped herself to an iced biscuit with a red star on the top as Kaz took the other tin and started to make them tea. The room filled with the smell, quiet clinking noises coming from the cupboard again as Kaz fetched cups and saucers, and Inej watched him from the corner of her eye as she nibbled. He had taken off his jacket, and Inej could see the strong line of his shoulders as he prepared their drinks. Yes, a younger version of herself would have been much more flustered than Captain Ghafa, as she was now. She might have told herself stories about how invested Kaz was, about his tactics and techniques for making her trust him – for making her want to stay. Now she had no such worries. She was in the bedroom of an old friend – an old partner, in many ways – and they were sharing a pot of tea.
Inej smiled as she turned away from sneaking glances at Kaz and looked out of the window instead, at the uncharacteristically beautiful light that was shining in. The fog of the early afternoon had lifted, and Ketterdam seemed to concentrate every scrap of colour on painting the evening sky in crimson and gold. It felt like a personal display from the city, like it was finally welcoming her in. She couldn’t believe that she had been away for so long.
“Can I open the window?” she asked. Kaz chuckled.
“You have never once asked my permission to open a window.” Kaz brought over their cups and placed them on the sill, where Inej was now sitting, and obligingly opened it for her.
A gentle breeze entered the room, tickling Inej’s cheek. She closed her eyes for a second and forgot that she had ever been away. The sensation of being here – in Kaz’s office, on the windowsill, letting the fading sunlight warm her skin – made her feel so young and so old at the same time. It was like slipping into an outfit she hadn’t worn in years, feeling the ways it had always fit her, and the ways that she had grown since. Inej was nothing like the girl that Kaz had once known, but she didn’t feel so different when she was back here, just a little taller and a little more forgiving.
Kaz brought over a plate with more cookies, taking a large one heavily studded with chocolate, and leaned against the wall. It had been three years, but still they were so comfortable existing in a space like this together, breathing in the warm air. She took a sip of her tea, and tasted honey. Just the way she had always liked it.
“You look well,” he said, not breaking the silence but disrupting it, like ripples on a pond. “The sea suits you.”
“Thank you. I rather like it too. Ketterdam has continued to suit you – is that a new scar on your jaw, or have I just never noticed it?”
“It’s new. About a year ago I was very nearly shot in the face by a Razorgull. Fortunately Jesper manipulated the bullet at the last second and I was only burnt.”
She inhaled sharply in sympathy, and Kaz shrugged. “It healed quickly, and that’s all I ask for.”
“Do you ever think you’ll end up more scar than skin?” she said, half in jest and half with sincerity. As the words left her mouth, she thought of how closely her question came to the kind of Suli proverb that she had goaded him with previously. That she had tested him with.  
“Not anymore.”
His reply was unexpectedly thoughtful. Inej turned to him, and he gave a soft smile.
“The Dregs don’t get caught up in the same trouble that they used to. There’s less chance for me to get hurt.”
“I’m glad.”
She took a cookie, a chocolate one like Kaz’s, and bit into it. It crumbled instantly, scattering crumbs all down her chin and the front of her waistcoat. Kaz saw; there was a beat of silence and then laughter, Inej’s giggles muffled by the cookie.
“You pirates make our manners look sophisticated,” he commented. She swatted the air in front of him.
“My manners haven’t suffered at all, I’ll have you know!”
“My poor windowsill. I’ll have to clean it now.”
“It could probably do with a clean if you’re anything like you used to be,” she replied, and Kaz raised an eyebrow at her.
“I always cleaned the windows frequently.”
“Specifically the windows.”
He tilted his shoulder and looked out across the city. The gilded roofs stretched from the harbour all the way to the Barrel. Inej watched him as he absorbed it all, taking a sip of tea, adjusting the cup in his bare hands. He looked exactly the way she had hoped to find him – a little stronger, a little harsher, that new scar dimpling the line of his jaw like a tally on a gun barrel, but unmistakeably the same Kaz that she had left behind. He looked every bit the young man that he was – handsome, clever, mean.
“You loved to sit here and look out. I always made sure you’d be able to.”
“Oh.”
She was glad he kept looking at the view. To lock eyes with him then might have done something to her – made her feel another way. A way she had felt for a long time, that she had stifled. Inej focused her gaze on the broken pieces of cookie in her hand, crumbling it more. Everything felt quietly loud; gentle, but unrelenting.
The familiar click of claws on tiles came from a little further along the roof.
Kaz leaned towards the sound. “They must have recognised you,” he smiled, “The crows have come back.”
Inej made an elated noise and turned herself to look. There they were – a little murder of crows, with sharp eyes and sharp beaks, cawing as politely as crows could.
“I can’t believe it,” she murmured.
“They stopped visiting when you left. They knew you were here.”
“No,” she said, delighted but disbelieving. He nodded.
Inej watched them move, alert and intelligent, talking to her. She remembered Kaz’s decrial of them as mannerless and untrustworthy, but when she scooped up some cookie crumbs and held them out, they arranged themselves neatly to feed from her hand. Her hands were rough now from the years of sailor’s work, but she could still feel the smoothness of their beaks as they pecked and the trace of their feathers on her fingers.
“I missed them too.”
Kaz took another sip. “Were seagulls not friendly enough?”
She laughed. “They were friendly in their own way – they certainly ate up scraps quite well. But I couldn’t feed them like this. They didn’t wait for me like the crows always did.”
“They were always looking for you to come back.” His voice was as gravelly as ever, but Inej felt a hint of longing as he spoke. With the last of the crumbs gone, she brushed off her hands and turned back towards the room, to look at him. The expression he wore was the one that she remembered most vividly, and with the least joy; that inscrutable intensity that made her feel transparent. He was looking inside of her, and she struggled to translate what he had seen from the look he was giving her.
“Do you ever wish you had stayed here instead?” Kaz asked.
Ah. The question that she had expected to be met with – it had been avoided all evening while they were with Jesper and Wylan, but now it emerged while they were alone. It was a question that she knew the answer for. Whether it was the one he wanted or not, it was the one he would get.
“No. I love being on the sea. I love having a purpose that I can enact so clearly. Everything I told you over dinner was true – it has its challenges, but I wouldn’t have done anything differently.”
Kaz nodded, and she saw pride lock into his eyes.
“You’ve become somewhat of a legend to the sailors who come to Ketterdam now,” he said, a grin building. “Men who arrive shaken by what they saw at a distance – of a pirate queen in blue and gold invading slaver ships and leaving them to die. It has certainly damaged West Stave.”
She touched her earring. “It has?”
“Of course. The bulk of working girls in any of the brothels are stolen, and with so few slaver boats succeeding in bringing any ashore…”
Inej grinned back. Her only hope when she finally decided to leave Ketterdam had been to bring justice to those children like her, but to know that her efforts were ruining trafficking from the ground up… It was almost too much. Her face hurt from smiling, and Kaz turned away from her to look out of the window again.
“How long are you staying here for?” he asked.
Another question. So much easier.
“Two weeks. My crew have been given leave in that time, but I’m hoping that they will all want to sign on for the next stint.”
“And you?”
“I have given myself leave, yes, Kaz,” she chuckled. Kaz huffed self-consciously. “I’ll be around, is what I mean. If you wanted to have tea again some time.”
“Yes.”
Their eyes met, and she was a teenager again. Inej hadn’t thought about Kaz in that way for a long time. Hadn’t allowed herself to. She knew that the moment in which she let the thought of anything tender and vulnerable growing between them take root in her mind again was the moment in which she would have to rethink her answer to that tricky question. But Saints, it had always been hard not to.
“I can tell stories about Captain Ghafa while you’re gone, if you’d like.” Kaz’s smile was sharp. “Make sure that everyone in Ketterdam knows the name and fears it.”
Her heart betrayed her so, so quietly.
“You don’t need to,” she said.
“Why’s that, Inej?”
Three years of never letting herself near him, just in case the possibility of a dual life came back into play. Three years in which she only regretted one thing.
“I’ll be back again before too long.”
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writewithurheart · 3 years
Text
Hearts of Kyber
a/n: Hello lovely readers!! I’ve been working on this work for the last couple months (and especially the last couple days). It has been an absolute pleasure working with these amazing artists who are astounding. I hope you love what we’ve put together!!
Corporalki: @kazandthecrows
Materialki: @anubem (art link) @generalstarkov (art link) @pijoshi (art link) @mitdemadlerimherzen (art link | art link 2) @erandraws (art link) @nannadoodles (art link) 
Summary: When an Imperial pilot defects, the Rebellion sends its best spies to find out what he knows. They discover the existence of a planet-destroying weapon known as the Death Star and a scientist who holds the secrets to its only weaknesses. Guided by the pilot, Wylan, and a former storm trooper, Matthias, Kaz Brekker leads a team to uncover the secret that can save the Rebellion before it’s crushed for good.
A Grishaverse Rogue One AU for the Grishaverse Big Bang 2021 
Read on AO3 or below the cut 
Part I
Inej barely remembers those early days with her family living in the heart of a city. She gets flashes of memories - playing with dolls, toddling after her father, parties full of boring adults who couldn’t care less about her. What she thinks of when she remembers her family is what came after: the travelling band of performers they joined. It’s there that she felt comfortable. The troupe was her family: they encouraged her, taught her tricks of the trade, and were the ones who trained her as an acrobat. They travelled from system to system, performing in cities and small villages alike, on hot planets and cold. She had careful rules to follow about her interactions whenever they landed. 
Despite all the restrictions, she remembers feeling carefree. The caravan was her domain and she was empress. The day her life changed was just like any other. She remembers her mother running a hand over her hair, whispering that they were going down into town. Her sleepy head full of cotton can’t remember her exact words, just the feeling of warmth, the comfort of routine. Only recently - on her eighth birthday - had she earned the right to sleep in instead of joining her parents’ customary outing.  
Sometimes in her waking hours, she forgets that happened years ago and in her half-waking state she thinks she can still hear her mother’s soothing whisper and her father patting her hand as he tucks her treasured stuffed bear under the blankets of her bed so she has company. 
Inej’s eyes fly open as the harsh lights of simulated daylight jolt her unrelentingly from her sleep into the cold reality of her life. 
She rolls up to a seated position and runs her arm over her sleepy face. She makes no effort to make herself presentable and glares at her arm with the repulsive peacock feather tattoo. It’s been eight years since that morning when her whole life burned around her, her whole extended family vanished in the blink of an eye and she was sold into the slave markets of the Hutts before she was even aware what that meant. 
“Inej Ghafa, the mistress will see you now,” a mechanical voice says over the speaker hidden in her room. Luxurious drapes and curtains cover the mechanical aspects of the room, but can’t hide the prison-like nature of a room without windows in a pleasure house. This has always been Inej’s cage. 
Of course, to the Empire, this isn’t slavery. She has an indenture that she’s working off, this was a choice she made. Inej stands. The words are bullshit. It’s a pretty story told by those who believe themselves to be above such terrible things just because they use different words. Inej is old enough to know what happens in the different rooms of the pleasure house she currently calls home, but still too young to be expected to participate fully. But she knows her days are numbered. 
Girls in this trade grow up quickly. She’s still a tease, only suffering a a groping hand here, a leer there, the occasional bit of voyeurism which makes her skin prickle and means she can never feel comfortable in any room, including her own.
Inej dresses with practiced movements in the ridiculous trappings Madam Helene requires. There are far too many bells on the outfit, too many dangling bits that can tangle for it to really be the exotic outfit Helene claims the clients want. She hates the way the silk feels against her skin when it used to mean the soothing comfort of performance attire. 
For now, her role is to just be an ornamentation for the pleasure house, but madame makes sure she knows what could happen the moment she steps a toe out of line. She’s not above selling Inej off before her time, the cost of which would do nothing to lower the exorbitant cost of her supposed indenture.  
Inej keeps her head down and walks quickly to the main room. In the early hours, there are few patrons who might be looking for a companion, but Inej has learned to keep her head down in any case. She’s short and skinny - underdeveloped to most tastes - so aren’t many interested in her and the ones that are she should avoid with even more care.  
There’s a boy in the room with Helene: a boy with a familiar cane. Inej is so surprised to see him that she forgets to look away meekly when his dark eyes meet hers. She tilts her head in curiosity. Last she saw, he was slipping out of a back hallway which she knew allowed Helene to eavesdrop on clients as they spent the night with girls, or that she offered to well-paying customers who took pleasure from that sort of thing. 
He looks just as cold as he did that night, but she vividly remembers the surprise in his eyes when she spoke from over his shoulder. He wasn’t a regular customer at the brothel but he was on good terms with a couple members of the staff and she’d seen him exchange kruge for information on more than one occasion. Last she saw him, she’d offered him help. 
“Ah, there’s my little Suli Lioness.” Madam Helene smiles benevolently, but her perfume chokes Inej as she wraps an arm around her. “Inej, do you know who this is?” 
“They call him Dirtyhands,” she answers, voice proper and meek as Helene likes. All the other girls have told her not to ask questions any time she tries to find out more. She can’t help but wonder if offering herself to him was a mistake, but she knows this place will kill her if she doesn’t find a way out. 
“Hmm…,” Madame hums. She turns to the boy with a set face and Inej’s chest tightens in apprehension. “I’m afraid your offer will not be accepted, Mr. Brekker. Inej is precious to me.” Her bejeweled fingers dig into Inej’s shoulder. “I couldn’t possibly part with her.” 
The boy raises an impeccable eyebrow. “I was under the impression our negotiations were finalized.” 
Helene releases an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, you silly boy. Did you know the Empire has offered quite the reward for you?” 
Inej tenses. She knows that Madame is fickle in her alliances, but she’s never openly invited storm troopers into her house: they don’t pay well. 
“You’d better run, little boy, if you want to get out of here before they can grab you.” 
Two doors into the main room slide open with a whoosh of air to reveal armored bodies with blasters levelled at the boy. Inej’s quick eyes note that the door closest to Brekker has no guard, instead being left clear if he wants to escape. If she were him, she would be running but instead he looks bored as he stares back at Madame. He lifts his wrist to check his time piece, an old fashioned analog device that hasn’t been used in decades. 
There’s a pulse of static followed by a volley of blaster shots. Inej jerks down out of the way but is shocked to see that none of the shots were aimed at them. 
“You should have taken the money, Helene,” the boy shaking space dust from his jacket. “We could have continued this lucrative partnership.” 
Madame pales and looks around at the rumpled crew of men who are all standing around. Most have holstered their guns, but a tall dark-skinned man walks up to them and gestures Helene back away from Inej. Madame drops her grip as if she can’t get her distance fast enough. She turns to the boy. 
“Please! You have to understand, the troopers would have killed me if I didn’t.” 
The boy looks at her impassively before shrugging. “Per Haskell is still willing to buy out her indenture. I’m sure we can agree on a more reasonable price.” 
Inej snorts. She can’t help it. They’re literally haggling over the price of her indenture after not killing one another. Frankly, it’s ridiculous. The boy looks over at her. Although his face is a mask which reveals no secrets, Inej sees a hint of amusement lurking in his dark eyes before he focuses again on Madame Helene. 
“Congratulations,” the dark-skinned man who shooed Madame Helene away says, leaning down to her, even as his eyes stay on the boy and madam. “You’re being rescued.” 
She looks around at the rag tag group she’s now willing to bet are Rebellion spies and wonders if this will actually be any better. Beyond them, she spots a couple of Helene’s girls with their bloodshot eyes, thin skin and haunted looks. It’s enough to remind her that is it. This is what she wants: a chance to save her father and get revenge on the Empire which has caused her so much pain. 
Inej straightens as much as she can. It looks like she’s joining the rebellion. 
...
Three years later… 
“You ever wonder if Kaz is actually a demon?” Jesper asks speculatively. He points his blaster to the sky and stares down the barrel. It’s in the best possible order he can make it. The sights are calibrated, the lazer refined and the trigger pull smooth. He couldn’t ask for a better weapon. 
Other than it’s partner, which is still in his holster and also freshly taken care of. 
“You’re supposed to be watching his back, Jesper,” the Wraith’s voice reminds him, tinged with annoyance. 
“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, rolling over so he can look over the side of the building to where Kaz is meeting with his contact. “You know, I’m still not sure why all three of us need to be here for one pilot.” 
“If you want, we can always switch positions,” Inej offers. “You can play get-away pilot.” 
Jesper snorts as he lines up his sight again. “Yeah, right. That’s all yours, spider. Besides we needed the sniper position here, remember?” 
There’s a long suffering sigh over the radio and Jesper grins. Through the scope his eyes bounce to Kaz. He can’t see his face, but Jesper knows he’s got that stone face of annoyance, which, as it turns out, is not so different from his normal ambivalent face except that it includes the slight twitching of the vein at his temple. 
Inej claims he’s seeing things, that it’s all in Jesper’s head. According to her, Kaz’s tell has to do with his eyes or some other sappy thing like that because they’re both secretly in love with each other. Jesper thinks they’re both idiots and he likes to think that one day, if he makes a bad enough joke or an inappropriate enough comment, that vein on Kaz’s temple is going to burst. 
He thinks it's good to have goals like that. It makes the dirty work they do for the Rebellion more palatable. 
“I still think it would be better to have me on the ground,” Inej grumbles. “You know I’m no good at the piloting stuff.” 
“You’re the one who wanted to come. If I recall, Per Haskell offered you leave and instead you came here.” Jesper notices the stiffening of Kaz’s shoulders. His informant is still calm, if a little jumpy-looking, so he knows that’s not the source of the tension. His eyes scan the street and see nothing alarming. 
Jesper hasn’t asked but he knows there’s something going on here that they’re not sharing. Inej has been wound tight since they started to hear rumors of an Imperial weapon strong enough to take out a planet. While it was still just a rumor, Kaz and Inej were chasing the thread down with a vengeance. It’s what brought them back to this city world where they had found Inej three years ago. 
Now if only his sneaky little cohorts would share the secret with him. That would be great. 
Jesper grumbles to himself. Like that would ever happen. He looks through the scope of his rifle. The tell tale of white of stormtrooper armor catches his eye and Jesper focuses on the location. The odd trooper presence in a city like this isn’t necessarily something to make note of. It happens on occasion, but this is a pair and he can spot another pair making their way in what looks to his eyes like search patterns. 
“Heads up, Kaz. We might have company.” Jesper says as he keeps an eye on the soldiers. “Moving in pairs. Looks like a search pattern.” 
They’re too far away to hear the words that are spoken, but Jesper can guess what it is from here: “Hey! You there!” 
He watches as Kaz drags their contact into an alley as the storm troopers converge from two directions. 
“I’ve lost sight of you, Kaz.” Jesper sights the troopers through his scope and taps a finger against the trigger. Killing troopers brings more attention than Kaz likes. They work in secret. “Exit strategy?” 
Through Kaz’s comm he hears the panicked pleas of Kaz’s contact swiftly silenced by a laser bolt. He grimaces at the additional body count as Kaz’s gravelly voice comes over the comm. 
“I’ve got it. Jesper, join Inej. Meet me at the rendezvous point.” 
He takes one last look at the troopers closing in on the alley and then stands. If Kaz needed help, he would ask. The man had a thousand and one plans. There’s no way he didn’t account for a way out of this trap. It sounds like he’s probably climbing, a feat considering his bum leg from when he landed on it wrong a couple years back and it never healed properly.  
“You know, for once I’d like one of these missions to go smoothly,” Jesper mutters under his breath as he hightails it back to the ship. He stows his blaster and keeps it from sight as he moves through the crowds. Seedy cities have been a second home to him for years, since he left the Imperial flight academy, if he’s being honest. He liked the anonymity the city gave him. It always felt better than the emptiness of the moisture farm he grew up on. He hates the heat and the sand. 
Oh, God, the sand. 
He walks aboard the ship with the swagger of a drunk who won big at the betting table. He nods jovially to those he passes. There are a couple glances down to the pistols at his waist, but that’s normal on a large port like this one. Intergalactic travel to major cities has always been fraught with trouble and this one isn’t especially savory. They don’t have the clearance for savory. 
Inej sits on the ramp of the ship, sprawled out across it like a cat. She opens her eyes as he arrives and stretches. “Ready to go?” 
“Shouldn’t the get away pilot be ready to run?” Jesper teases as they walk up into the ship and Inej diverts to the cockpit, starting the take off procedure. 
“I spent the last hour bemoaning my terrible coworker who insists on gambling at each port and always staggers back drunk, occasionally with unexpected company. I’ve already got tower clearance to leave. And taking off won’t set any red flags with the Empire so we’re clear.” 
Jesper drops into the copilot chair as Inej goes through engine checks. “You did all that?” 
“You’re not the only one capable of sweet talking people, Fahey.” She shoots him a look and he chuckles. 
“I remember when your first attempt to blend in. Didn’t you end up stabbing someone?” 
Inej scowls at the memory. “And no one has tried to grab my body since then without a threat of a knife point.” 
Jesper chuckles. “Fair enough.” He shifts as they fly high enough to leave the atmosphere and then drop back down, drifting through the carefully mapped out empty space of blind spots that allow them to drift down to the meeting point. Despite it taking them almost no time to get there, Kaz is already sitting against a crate on the roof of a run down building, cane held out in front of him with his hands crossed on top. 
Jesper moves back toward the loading bay and opens the doors. He leans against the side of the doorway as the ship turns to face Kaz. “Hiya, honey. Miss me?” 
As always Kaz rolls his eyes at Jesper’s attitude as he climbs the ramp. “We’re clean. Any trouble at the port?” 
“Nope,” Inej reports from the cockpit. “Just a couple nosy traders looking for a good time. Sent them after Jesper.” 
“Har har,” he shoots back as the ramp closes with a firm whoosh of pressure stabilizing. He turns to Kaz who has dropped onto the bench and closed his eyes. His lame foot is extended slightly in front of him, a tell that it’s aching from the exercise of escaping the troopers. Jesper can also see where his blaster sticks out from under his jacket, the clip of the holster no longer in place. He definitely used it. “Did you get the intel?” 
Kaz nods. 
“Where are we headed?” Inej asks. From the body of the shuttle, Jesper sees her hand hover over the hyperspeed settings, preparing to change the destination of their jump. 
“The pilot is on Jedha.” 
They both freeze and you could hear a pin drop in the shuttle. Jesper glances at Inej and sees the same worry painted in the lines of her face. “Are you sure?” 
Kaz finally opens his eyes and leans forward. “It’s been confirmed. That’s the second source and this one claims to have actually seen the pilot.” 
“But he’s a defector, why would he go there?” Jesper asks. 
“Jedha’s not a stronghold for the Empire, but they do trade there.” Kaz answers, as if that explains the reasoning. 
“But it’s a Shu stronghold. They’re cut off. We haven’t had contact in years.” Jesper glances at Inej in the cockpit. “Nina was there when the communications shut down. She wasn’t able to get out and no one’s been able to go in.” 
Kaz rams a gloved hand over the top of his cane. “That isn’t strictly true.” 
Inej whips around. “What?” 
He sighs. “We have a way onto the planet. The problem will be finding the defector and getting him to talk to us.” 
“And getting off planet again,” Jesper cuts in. “Or have you forgotten how the Shu seize whoever and whatever they want? There’s a reason we don’t have an outpost there.” 
Kaz stares at him with those cold, blank eyes and then turns toward Inej. “Set the course.” 
For a long moment, Inej doesn’t move. Her fingers tap against the control as she gazes at Kaz with an inscrutable expression on her face for a moment before she turns back to the controls and the ship lurches into hyperspace. 
Jesper crosses his arms as he faces Kaz from across the ship. “You knew we were headed to Jedha.” 
Kaz stares back at him for a moment and then closes his eyes. He leans back against the side of the ship. Jesper wishes he was surprised about the lack of communication. 
He sits down next to Kaz. “This way on to Jedha...does it have anything to do with Nina?” 
Kaz cracks open an eye. He looks Jesper over and shuts them again. “She was able to get one message out since the Shu shut down. The last message that got out - the one that opened a path - the agent was lost. Haven’t heard anything since.” 
“Nina?” 
“Under orders to lay low.” 
“Are we taking her out with us?” 
Kaz’s hands tighten on the head of his cane. “We’ll see.” 
...
There was something happening. Nina looks around the marketplace covertly as she examines the fruit in the stall in front of her. It’s the same bland, slightly bruised fruit that they always have. Two years on this desert planet and she’s still not used to the blandness of the food. She’s missing the lush variety of Aldaraan and the sweets she used to eat by the bushel. There’s no sweets here in Jedha, especially not in the mostly abandoned temple. 
She exchanges a coin for two shrivelled pieces of fruit and a smile with the vendor. She slips off the main thoroughfare and into the archway that leads into the dilapidated temple. Like most of Jedha, it’s covered in a fine layer of sand and dust, and shows the wear and tear of years of war. 
She tosses a piece of fruit to the tall and skulking shadow that leans against the archway. Matthias catches the fruit of the air. He pulls a wickedly long knife from behind his back and cuts the fruit into meticulous pieces, eating with precise movements to stop the juice from creating a sticky mess. 
Nina is far less careful. She bites into the fruit and does her best to stop the overripe fruit from spilling juice down her chin. It’s a messy process and her fingers will end up coated in sugary sweetness. It’s her little act of rebellion that makes Matthias shake his head in her direction, when his eyes aren’t sweeping the plaza. 
“There’s something in the wind,” he says as he slowly eats another slice of his fruit. Nina’s is almost gone. She’s sad for that. 
“Rumors.” Nina glances at the gangsters on the corner of the street with their strange metal suits. They’re looking antsy, searching the street. “There’s not much chatter. Something about an Imperial pilot. Broke through the Shu blockade.” 
Matthias’s eyes drift back across the crowds of people. Nina rearranges her robe and leans against her staff. Two years posing as acolytes of the temple and proselytizing about Sankts has her accustomed to her character. No one bothers with a monk spouting ideas of an old religion they no longer believe in. 
“The Empire is still confined to their kyber shipments,” Matthias observes. He casually cuts the seeds from his fruit. “Their shuttle routes haven’t been altered. The Shu though.” His eyes dart to their locations around the square. “They’re looking for someone.” 
“A defector,” Nina says. 
Matthias finally looks over at her in surprise. “Yours or mine?” 
“Does it matter?” she asks. “Either way, we need to find them before anyone else.” 
“Do we?” Matthias grumbles and slips his knife back into the sheath hidden somewhere on his person. “It’s not like anyone’s come to get us in the last two years.” 
Nina rolls her eyes. They’ve had this argument before. “Come now, druskelle. Where’s that attitude of dedication to the Empire?” 
He snorts. “It died two years ago.” One of the Shu guards moves and Matthias’s attention strays. “Think it’s important enough that they’ll risk their peace with the Shu?” 
Beneath the question is the unspoken one that neither of them have put words to, but they both know is lingering in the back of their minds: Is this defector more important than they are? Nina’s last mission was to get a contact off Jedha to the Rebellion. Matthias had saved her from capture by the Shu and they hadn’t been able to risk an attempt to leave Jedha since then. The Empire had some sort of deal with the Shu that allowed them access to the Kyber mines but that was it. 
“Perhaps it’s time we went to collect tithes, Brother Helvar,” Nina announces. She pulls up the hood of her robes and leans on her staff as she walks out from the temple. Matthias follows behind her with grumbled complaints under his breath. The occupants of the city are familiar with their dynamic, although they’re sure to vary the times they depart the temple. Routines are too predictable. 
Matthias doesn’t speak even as Nina stops to talk with every friendly face she sees. For the first year, he had complained at every moment, even as she explained to him the importance of blending in, of becoming part of the populace. Now he even lets the children climb on him when she stops to share a story about the saints. 
“They’re jumpy,” Lin shares with Nina in whispered tones, her eyes darting around the square even though there don’t appear to be guards around right now. “Jan said he saw stormtroopers preparing to enter the city.” 
Nina performs a blessing on an elderly man. “Any idea what they’re looking for?” 
��A pilot.” Lin shifts her daughter around on her hip. “Imperial pilot. You don’t want to get between the troopers and their goal. The Shu are looking for him too. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay out of their way.” 
Matthias moves closer. “And the pilot?” 
Lin glances at him and then back at Nina. She’s always been more skittish around men. It’s a look Nina’s uncomfortably familiar with and one she knows speaks to a violent past interaction. The way she grips her daughter just a bit closer breaks Nina’s heart. 
Nina nods encouragingly. 
“Down by the old refractory.” Lin freezes up as soon as the words escape her mouth. Her eyes widen in surprise at what she just divulged. She darts away in a panic, leaving Nina and Matthias to continue to serve the poor with their usual tithes. 
By unspoken agreement, Matthias follows Nina’s lead as she takes them on a winding path. The last year and half of long meandering routes work in their favor as Nina leads them with more purpose. 
It feels good to have a purpose again. She hasn’t had contact with the Rebellion, but if this is big enough that the Empire is willing to fight the Shu for the interloper, then it’s big enough for the Rebellion to also be looking. The Empire has the strength to use brute force. The Rebellion will send Kaz Brekker. Per Haskell would be an idiot to send anyone else. 
As they get closer to their destination, Nina slows her pace and purposefully plays up her monk persona, passing out alms and blessings in equal measure. Matthias moves gruffly in her wake, watching her back in a way that might be suspicious if it hadn’t been his stable characteristic for the last two years. The Shu are used to their dynamic of the devout believer jaded sceptic. They had adopted the personas for safe passage before the Shu blockade and been forced to maintain it since then. 
It was useful, despite neither Nina nor Matthias being well versed in espionage. 
By the time they reach the old refractory buildings, Nina and Matthias are moving at a crawl, speaking to every person they see. Nina’s eyes scan the faces for one that looks out of place, one that screams uncertainty or distrust. 
She gets pointed down a dark alley by one of the urchins after she shares with him one of her precious jojo beans. It’s the closest she can get to her sweets in this city. She glances at Matthias and he nods. His body is intentionally relaxed, ready to move as necessary in response to a threat. 
Nina leads the way into the factory, looking around carefully as they move into the space. She breathes in deeply and sinks into the meditative state. The air around her settles, buzzing with the life force of the inhabitants of the city. In a couple of breaths, she narrows it further so she can feel the interior of the building. 
Matthias mutters under his breath, something about religious mumbo jumbo and insanity. 
Nina turns sideways and opens one eye to glare at Matthias. He rolls his eyes and gestures at her to continue.  
Her use of the Force is unrefined, based more in the faith that it will work than on actual knowledge about what she’s doing. It’s an old religion and the order they’re with is still respected even if not believed in. Okay, so maybe respected is pushing it. They’re disregarded as religious fanatics who don’t do much of anything. 
She follows the light of the Force through the factory, letting it guide her feet, trusting it to protect her from bumping into any of the clutter. Dimly, she senses Matthias grunt as he moves something out of her path before she hits it or it hits her. She keeps her focus on the life signature that shines like a beacon, coming to a stop once they’re in sight of the huddled mass. She opens her eyes and peers into the gloom. 
“We’re here to help you,” Nina says. Her soft voice carries around the large space. She ignores Matthias’s mutter about talking to herself. 
“Who...who are you?” A tremulous voice asks. It sounds younger than Nina expected, more uncertain. She thought a defector would be more hardened, more convinced of their path to go against the Empire in such a way. 
Nina squats down to look at the hunched over figure. Matthias has one hand hovering over his hidden firearm, the other on a dagger. She’s deep in her meditation of the Force and senses no danger from the huddled figure. 
“You’re the pilot, right?” Nina asks instead of answering. 
His eyes look her over, lingering on her and Matthias’s matching robes. “You’re priests?” 
He inches forward. There’s enough light cast on him that his Imperial uniform catches her eye, answering the question he avoids. She smiles softly at him and holds out her hand. Behind her Matthias shifts, disliking her proximity to perceived danger, if she has to guess. 
“Word on the street is you’re a defector. We’re here to help.”  
...
Wylan doesn't think he's ever been this cold in his life. Which is bizarre because this is a desert planet. You'd think it would be warm but instead he's found himself huddled in dark corners, scavenging like a rat for scraps for the last couple days while he tries to escape notice from the Shu. Jedha was supposed to be a safe haven for him, somewhere the Empire couldn't touch. The Shu had tried to grab him first, had detained him and demanded answers to their questions about the Empire. His protests that he wanted to defect fell on deaf ears. Then they'd dragged him into a cave with a beast they called Bor Gullet. 
It's a blur after that. 
He remembers waking in a cell to garbled words, a blurred hologram of his father glaring disdainfully down at him. A comment about the Empire being grateful to the Shu. Wylan doesn't know how he escaped. There's a memory of loud noise, a flash of heat, and dirt. Then it's all dark and cold. 
He'd avoided people after that, stuck to shadows, and only ventured out when the emptiness of his stomach threatened to eat him from the inside out. 
He doesn't even know how long it's been since he escaped the cell...or was released...he doesn't know. 
Then the woman appeared, like an angel out of the darkness and she promises salvation. 
Wylan knows enough of his father's games not to immediately trust the gesture. "Who are you?"  
“We’re with the Rebellion,” she says with a smile. 
The monk behind her rolls his eyes and turns away. They don’t look like any monks he recognises. The only person he’s heard of who truly follows the old religion is the Darkling and Wylan’s not so unfortunate to have ever seen him in person. “You don’t look like Rebels.” 
“He’s right. We don’t,” the man tells her. 
The woman looks over her shoulder, eyes narrowed in a glare. “Matthias Helvar.” She turns conspiratorially back to Wylan and there’s a friendly glint in her eye that makes him want to trust her. “Once he was the most devout of you all. Rose through the ranks of the Empire almost as high as they come. You want out of the Empire. We can help.” 
Wylan’s eyes drift over the man’s features and there’s something that reminds him of the way General Brum’s men carry themselves, the elite of the troopers he’s only seen from a distance. Wylan wants to string words together but they slip away like soap and water. 
“Will you come with us?” She prompts, yet again. 
He can’t combine the fears and hopes and questions into coherent sense. All he can do is nod in agreement. Whether they harm him or save him, he’ll be dead or caught if he stays here on his own. He needs allies and he’s not in a mental state where he can do much of anything himself. 
“Good,” she says. She pulls him forward and manhandles Wylan into a monk’s robe over his tattered pilot’s uniform. “I’m Nina. This is Matthias. We’re going to get you out of here alive. Good?” 
Wylan nods. She shoves a basket into his hands and drops additional bits of clutter from the warehouse floor into it. 
“We should be heading back,” Matthias rumbles. 
“Walk between us,” Nina instructs, pulling the hood of his robe up. Matthias mimics the movement. “Don’t make eye contact. Don’t talk to anyone. Just stay in step with us. We’ll speak for you if it comes to that.” 
Wylan has enough sense to nod along. He knows talking will only give away his current state of complete confusion. He can see the looks Nina and Matthias exchange in response to his silence. He’s not so lost that he doesn’t understand what’s going on but the thoughts take too long to reach his lips and disappear like fragrance on a breeze. 
The ground is dusty and uneven under Wylan’s feet. It captures his attention as he walks, so different from the metal hallways and corridors he’s used to walking.  His feet catch from where they scrape the ground and he tries to tell his body to lift his feet higher, but they don’t seem willing to respond any more than what they do by instinct. When was the last time he walked on anything that wasn’t steel? 
He’s so preoccupied by swirls of dirt that he walks right into a wall. 
Well, not a wall, but the giant monk - Matthias. He bounces off the man’s back, which feels like the equivalent of walking into a wall. The man doesn’t even move in response to him walking into him at full speed, but Wylan almost falls on his butt, and would if it wasn’t for Nina catching him. 
She steps past him to stand next to Matthias. She pushes him further into the shadows behind Matthias as she looks past him to see what’s grabbed his attention. Wylan shuffles sideways and ducks down so he can look around the hulking figures. 
The white helmets break through his current haze and Wylan stumbles backwards. The Storm Troopers followed him. He can’t allow himself to be captured, not after he finally escaped that place and his father’s restrictive control. 
“Wait!” Nina whispers harshly, but Wylan’s body is moving without his consent. The urge to get away is too strong. It drives him, haltingly, step-after-step through twisting and confusing alleyways. He’s not sure where he’s going except away. If he can get to a port, he’s sure he can fly a ship. 
Another flash of white Imperial helmets send him careening in another direction which leads him into a square. The sudden exposure leaves him disoriented and he spins around looking for another exit as a child is ushered into one house and shutters are slammed shut. Wylan gulps. He walks back and turns, running into someone for the second time. This time the person rocks as he crashes into them, but Wylan’s still the one wheeling back. 
He blinks at the man, carrying some sort of stick. He looks like he could belong here except that his eyes are too intent. It’s the kind of gaze you couldn’t stand for too long but are also scared to look away from. It takes him a second to notice the tiny girl at his side. She’s looking around, causally flipping a blade in her hand. The other rests on a blaster. Now that he realized that, Wylan notices the man is also armed. 
“Wylan Van Eck?” The man asks. 
Wylan blinks at him in shock. He’s helpless to do anything but nod. They’re not Empire and they don’t look like the Khergud who grabbed him, so they can’t be that bad. Or at least are likely better than the alternative.  
“Right. Time to be off. Let Jesper know we’ve got the package.” The man turns abruptly. 
Wylan glances at the girl who steps aside and gestures at him to follow. He hasn’t decided if he will when there are footsteps behind him. He twists back to see who’s following and breathes a little easier when the monks appear. Maybe monks are better than whoever the man is.  
Maybe he’s dead anyway. 
“Oh good. You’re here.” The man says. “We can all go then.” 
Nina smirks from where she’s bent over catching her breath. “Nice to see you too, Kaz. Been ages.” 
...
It’s convenient that they were able to find the pilot and Nina in one place. He would have trouble getting Inej and Jesper out of here with just the pilot. They’d had no communication with Nina, no way to get in contact with her once they were in the atmosphere. Kaz takes it in stride and moves back the way they came. The rest will follow and someone will make sure the pilot comes along with them. 
It would have been a fantastic escape. In and out with no trouble whatsoever. It would have been too lucky for him, so the storm troopers that come streaming racing around the corner where Nina and her friend emerged are hardly a surprise. The real unlucky bit is that they also appear in the two other access points to the square. 
The pilot looks ready to bolt. Nina and the second monk steps forward. Kaz respects the bulk of him and hopes that he’s good in a fight. If it were just him and Inej, they would split up and meet at the rendez-vous. The pilot is going to be the issue. 
“Halt. Surrender or you will be terminated.” 
Inej pushes Wylan behind her and toward Kaz. The boy curls in on himself. How he ever got up the courage to desert the Empire, Kaz hasn’t a clue. Now they just need to get him out of here with whatever valuable knowledge is worth breaking the standoff with the Shu. 
Kaz pushes him into a doorway, out of sight of the blasters. “Stay down.” 
The boy whimpers. 
Nina steps forward, hands raised in a deceptively helpless gesture. “Calm down. We’re all friends here.” 
“Stand down or we will open fire,” the trooper repeats. The entire line readies their weapons. Their blasters might be unreliable and clunky, but with so many firing, they’re bound to hit something. 
“You don’t want to shoot us.” Nina tries again. 
“That’s what you’ve got?” the second monk asks incredulously. 
She glares at him. Kaz watches Inej palm a blade and twirl it effortlessly in one hand. The harsh sunlight glints off the edge of the blade: steel instead of a laser edge many prefer. He knows she likes the way the old fashioned blades feel in her hand. They look like they belong in her grasp. 
Nina steps forward again, closer and closer to the troopers. “You’re not going to shoot us.” 
“Hand over the pilot.” The trooper says. From across the square, Kaz can hear the gun prep to fire. This isn’t working. 
“Yeah. That’s not going to happen,” he drawls from the back of the group. The second monk glares at him, but Kaz just twirls his kane, unbothered. It was going to come down to this anyway. There’s no point holding it off as more backup and fire power arrives to support the troopers. 
Shadows fall across the square and Kaz gets his first look at the notorious Khergud soldiers who have kept Jedha independent for the last two years. “Imperial Troopers. You have no authority in our city. The pilot is ours.” 
Nina, her monk, and Inej grow tense at the new party. Beside him the pilot starts to mutter under his breath, rocking back and forth. 
This actually works to their advantage as the troopers are forced to divert their attention. The Khergud fires directly at the troopers before jumping into the air. The troopers open fire, most on the Khergud, judging them to be the bigger threat. 
Inej seizes the moment to dive forward into the fight, taking out two opponents in moments before she’s engaged by one of the Shu soldiers. She moves like an acrobat, twirling through flailing limbs that breeze past her. She’s a force of nature. 
Kaz is distracted from his awe by a guard landing a few feet away and leaping for Wylan. He dispatches the soldier with a few whacks of his cane. He crumples under a well-placed hit to the temple. 
More troopers race toward the noise. They stop around the corner of an alley, firing from their protective spots and forcing the monk and Kaz to step back to cover. They lob a grenade into the square. Kaz takes two steps forward and hits it back with the metal head of his cane. It soars in a perfect arch back to the troopers, who scramble for cover too late. 
The monk nods in acknowledgment and moves to relieve Nina from her two enemies. Inej falls back as she takes out her opponent and the rest are distracted by Nina and the monk. She moves to stand alongside Kaz, stretching out the muscles she just used as she slips her blades back in their many holsters. The explosion rocks the block which takes out one contingent of troopers but they're met with more troopers and Shu, crawling out of the cracks like cockroaches. 
A moment later shots arc over their heads, rapid fire, each one hitting its target and leaving the recipients incapacitated.  
Kaz relaxes infintestimently. He'd been prepared to dive for cover. His hand twitches toward Inej but he knows she can take care of herself. She doesn’t need him trying to tackle her and throwing off her center of balance.  
A figure emerges along the roofline, a rifle resting against his shoulder. “There were an awful lot of explosions for people who were supposed to be blending in.” 
“I hope you’ve got an exit plan, Brekker,” Nina says. She diverts to the Imperial pilot after a glance at the monk. 
He nods and moves for the alley. “This way.” He glances at Inej and up at the roofline. She nods and follows his tacit directions. Kaz leaves her to do what she does best: cover them from the shadows. 
Kaz walks with purpose through the streets. Now that fighting has broken out, it appears that no one is holding back. Shu are fighting stormtroopers, troopers are fighting the Khergud and civilians are running for cover. Jesper’s  and Inej’s shadows move with them. The monk - who Kaz Brekker suspects is the Druskelle Nina mentioned before she went dark - leads the charge, with his long legs that eat up the ground in long strides. Nina covers their escape with a simple bo staff. 
“Where are we going?” The monk asks as he fires off a round of shots. 
“Left!” Jesper shouts as he crashes to the ground on the back of a Khergud soldier. “I don’t know why we ever thought this was going to be a quiet mission. And I still say we need a demolition expert.” 
“We’re spies, Jesper,” Kaz growls over the sound of battle. 
Jesper shoots him a cocky grin over his shoulder. “But this is so much more fun.” 
“There’s something wrong with you,” the monk mutters. 
“Kaz.” 
He looks sideways, unsurprised to find Inej at his shoulder, silent as always. He follows her gaze upwards and nearly stumbles to a stop. “Jedha doesn’t have a moon.” 
Nina and the monk stumble to a stop. Jesper glances up for a moment. “That’s what I wanted to tell you. It appeared out of nowhere. It’s too big to be a ship but moons don’t move.” 
“That’s it,” Wylan whispers. The pilot suddenly jolts into motion. “We have to go. Now!” 
Kaz is forced into an ungainly run. He tries not to notice Inej hovering at his elbow, keeping pace with him as they race toward the ship. The Imperial pilot is ahead of them all, heedless of laser bolts. Jesper yanks him back by the collar to direct him to the correct ship. 
As he reaches the ramp, Kaz starts to hear screams. 
“Jesper, get us out of here!” Kaz yells. Inej hits the control to shut the ramp as Jesper guns the engine. 
“What do you think I’m doing, Brekker? Buckle up. This ride’s about to get bumpy.” 
... 
The whole world has turned upside down. Matthias isn’t sure what he’s doing, to be perfectly honest. Staying with Nina was a mutually beneficial proposition. They were stuck on a foreign planet, where the only people they could trust were each other. He’d become accustomed to their partnership and been shocked by how much he relied upon her. Now, looking at this ragtag group - so different from the ordered discipline of the elite Druskelle guard - Matthias is at a loss for how the Resistance has managed to become a thorn in the Empire’s side. 
He will admit that they were, like Nina, surprisingly capable and effective. However, he can’t hide how scandalized he is by their lack of any sort of recognizable chain of command. The trio moves like his old unit in that they’re so familiar with each other, they don’t need to shout out commands. But their actions of Jedha display an alarming disregard for a cohesive plan and seem to thrive on the chaos of the moment. 
“What was that?!” The boy with the cane asks, turning around to stare at the group before his eyes zero in on the unfortunate pilot. 
Matthias hasn’t gotten much from the boy, except that he stepped back from the fighting yet was clearly capable of surviving physical confrontation. Nina and his two companions seemed to defer to him as some sort of leader, which spoke to a sharp mind. Nina called him Kaz, which would indicate one of the high level members of Rebel Intelligence. He’s heard him referenced as a nightmare or a demon, spoken of in whispers and myths more than anything else. 
All in all: Matthias expected someone older. 
“That was the Death Star,” Wylan whispers. His eyes look haunted. 
Matthias frowns. “Impossible.” He starts when five sets of eyes jerk towards him in the silence of hyperspace. He grits his teeth. The word wasn’t supposed to be spoken out loud. “They’re decades away from creating that technology.” 
Wylan is shaking his head. “No. They found a scientist. Got him to create what they needed. I...I was able to get away. To warn the Rebellion. It’s a planet killer.” 
“A planet killer?” The small girl repeats. 
“Is that even possible?” Nina glances at him for confirmation. Matthias has no answer. It was only an idea when he was with the Druskelle last. Brum used to talk about it, but it was never close to a reality. Not then. 
“Why don’t you ask Jedha?” Kaz says. 
“We don’t know that it destroyed the whole planet,” the small girl points out. 
The boy doesn’t look away from where he stares out the window at the white streaks of stars passing in hyperspace. “At the very least, we know it destroyed the city. If the Empire has a weapon like that, we’re left defenseless.” 
“That’s why I was sent to find you,” Wylan says. He freezes when all eyes turn to him and he curls in on himself from his spot beside the pilot. Matthias has spent years in Imperial bases and has no idea how this pilot managed to get into the program, let alone became important enough to have access to this top secret project. It seems highly suspect to him. 
“Sent?” The boy asks, finally turning so his whole body faces the pilot. Matthias does have to admit he cuts an intimidating figure even as he leans on his cane. 
The pilot swallows. “The scientist. I was supposed to get to a contact they had with the Rebellion. There was someone I was supposed to connect with...the Wraith? But I got redirected…” He frowns. The more the pilot seems to search for words, the harder they seem to come. 
Matthias has seen this before. “He was captured by the Khergud. They most likely probed his mind using Bor Gullet. That’s how they dealt with any Imperial or Rebel spies they found.” He leans back against the steel hull. It actually feels good to be back in space again after being grounded for so long. 
It feels like freedom. 
The boy looks at Nina. She nods in confirmation. “It’s true. We only escaped detection because of the temple.” 
“Because all she would talk about was the Force,” Matthias mutters. He adjusts his muscles so they’re loose and he can react in an instant if needed. Nina drops into the space beside him, using his shoulder as a pillow as she settles in like a cat that can get comfortable anywhere. 
“I saved your life,” she says without opening her eyes. 
He grunts and doesn’t let his smile emerge.  
“The Wraith,” Kaz repeats, focusing on Wylan again. “What were you supposed to tell them?”
Wylan still looks nervous. “Well, I was supposed to pass on...a message...There’s a way to destroy it. A weakness.” 
“A weakness?” 
Wylan yanks at his hair. It’s useless to try to force him to remember more in his state. Matthias watches the trio of rebels to see what they’ll do at this obstacle. 
“He didn’t tell me,” Wylan whispers, clearly realizing this might not endear him to his rescuers at this point. “I was supposed to...bring someone back. They wanted...they wanted someone to rescue them, and they would share the weakness. I was just supposed to be the messenger. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.” 
Kaz scowls and glances at the girl who looks at the man in the pilot’s seat, all having some sort of silent conversation. Matthias watches the interaction with interest.  
“Where is this base?” Kaz finally moves closer, crouching so he can look Wylan in the eyes. 
“Eadu.” 
Matthias vaguely recalls the outpost. Far from most of the known universe, it’s one of the Empire’s research bases. There’s not a huge platoon placed there for protection. It’s a secret base, kept out of the way, and by necessity sees few changes in personnel. There were a couple training missions on the planet to diversify the team’s experiences and analyze security procedures. 
“We don’t have anyone on Eadu,” the girl notes. 
“Because Eadu’s on lockdown. Nothing in or out that isn’t high level.” The boy flying the craft throws over his shoulder. “Out of the flight academy, I only stopped there once because they needed a supply run immediately. They didn’t even let me off the shuttle. To be a pilot there, you’d have to have some pretty impressive clearance.” 
Matthias alters his assessment of the crew that got them off Jedha. To get through the Imperial Flight Academy is impressive. The man also demonstrated impressive aim and combat skills. Despite not being highly regimented, they do appear to be a solid team. He glances down at Nina. 
“So in order to get the information on the weakness, we have to go to Eadu,” the girl says. She’s twirling a knife in her hands, one with a true steel blade like he hasn’t seen in ages. Her comfort with it is another mark in their favor. 
“Jesper’s right. It’s impenetrable. We haven’t managed to get anyone on the inside.” Kaz taps his fingers on the head of his cane. 
“So we go.” The girl shrugs. “We redirect. We need to find a way to beat this thing or millions more are going to die.” 
“Procedure is to report for further orders. We’ve got the pilot.” Kaz looks at her with a heavy look. 
“Matthias can help.” Nina elbows him as she speaks up. 
He scowls down at her as everyone turns to stare at him. She didn’t even bother to open her eyes to betray him. 
“I’m not a traitor.” Matthias glares at the lot of them. 
“You’ll help,” Nina says with a self-assuredness he’s come to hate over the last couple of years. Because as irksome as it is, she’s usually right about these things. They both know it. 
“We’re supposed to just trust a stranger on your word?” Jesper asks. 
“Get twisted, Fahey. You know my word is good.” 
Kaz and the woman - whose name Matthias still doesn’t know - have another silent conversation. She turns to look at him, her eyes speculative. Kaz leans closer to her. “You think you can do this?” 
She doesn’t take his eyes from Matthias. Her knives continue the casual twisting in her hand. She shrugs and looks back at the mastermind. “It is our kind of job.” 
Kaz nods. “Jesper, alter course. Van Eck, help get him close without being seen. Matthias, you need to tell us everything you know, and quickly.” 
“Why should I?” 
“Because if you don’t, I’m going to make your life very unpleasant.” 
“How do you even know the pilot is right? How do you know there really is a weakness? This could be a trap.” It sounds like the kind of thing Jarl Brum would think up to capture Rebel spies.
“Faith,” Nina says. “This is the right choice.” She finally sits up and stretches. 
Matthias rolls his eyes at her religious display. He sighs. “I can tell you what I know. It could still be a trap.” 
“The pilot is Wylan Van Eck. He’s on my list of potential informants. He became an Imperial pilot because of familial connections. It’s how he has access to sensitive information. We know they’re working on something on Eadu. If this is what he says, then we need that information.” The girl explains it in an even voice. 
“And if there isn’t a secret weakness?” 
Kaz and Inej exchange a long look.  
“Then we find another way to blow it up,” Jesper supplies. 
Matthias isn’t sure he likes the looks of glee on their faces. 
“So how do we get in?” 
The girl turns to look at Matthias, her dark eyes just the slightest bit terrifying now that he’s actually getting a good chance to size her up. She tends to fade into the background and let her comrades take charge, but definitely is not to be underestimated. He stares at her and then glances at Kaz. 
“Inej is a ghost,” Nina says. “She can get in and out without anyone noticing.” 
He looks her over, still assessing. This moment, more than any in the last two years of surviving, feels like he’s standing on the edge of a cliff. The last two years he could justify to his superiors: he was surviving a hostile planet, he had to get close to Nina or he would have died, he was trying to learn the secrets of the Rebel scum. This was different. If he does this, he’s helping the Rebel cause. He’s actively going against everything he’s ever learned.
Nina hits him in the shoulder, as if sensing his internal conflict. She twists upright to look at him and raises an eyebrow in challenge. 
He can hear her voice in his head, berating him for his strict no-nonsense rules and his consuming hatred for anything that goes against the order of the Empire. There were countless debates as they marched through Jedha, each an intellectual exercise. He can honestly say that he doesn’t believe the Empire is never wrong, but is that enough to make him give up their secrets? 
“They murdered everyone in Jedha,” she whispers to him softly. “Lin, Mauri, Katya…” She closes her eyes against the pain. 
He wants to wrap her in his arms and pull her close. Nina feels everything so deeply, unable to stop herself from connecting with everyone she meets. He wants to protect from that pain, to comfort her. Those lives lost today. They were innocents. People that should have been protected and instead… 
He opens his eyes and nods his agreement to Nina. 
She grins, life and joy filling her back up as she bounces around in her seat, the way she gets excited whenever they found something reasonably sweet on Jedha. “Matthias meet Inej. Inej, meet Matthais. He’s a little shy but he knows what’s at stake.”
It’s like shedding a piece of armor or throwing off the last vestiges of who he once was. There’s no turning back now, and he has surprisingly little regret as he opens his eyes and asks the first damning question: “Where do you want to start?”
<hr>
Inej barely remembers those early days with her family living in the heart of a city. She gets flashes of memories - playing with dolls, toddling after her father, parties full of boring adults who couldn’t care less about her. What she thinks of when she remembers her family is what came after: the travelling band of performers they joined. It’s there that she felt comfortable. The troupe was her family: they encouraged her, taught her tricks of the trade, and were the ones who trained her as an acrobat. They travelled from system to system, performing in cities and small villages alike, on hot planets and cold. She had careful rules to follow about her interactions whenever they landed. 
Despite all the restrictions, she remembers feeling carefree. The caravan was her domain and she was empress. The day her life changed was just like any other. She remembers her mother running a hand over her hair, whispering that they were going down into town. Her sleepy head full of cotton can’t remember her exact words, just the feeling of warmth, the comfort of routine. Only recently - on her eighth birthday - had she earned the right to sleep in instead of joining her parents’ customary outing.  
Sometimes in her waking hours, she forgets that happened years ago and in her half-waking state she thinks she can still hear her mother’s soothing whisper and her father patting her hand as he tucks her treasured stuffed bear under the blankets of her bed so she has company. 
Inej’s eyes fly open as the harsh lights of simulated daylight jolt her unrelentingly from her sleep into the cold reality of her life. 
She rolls up to a seated position and runs her arm over her sleepy face. She makes no effort to make herself presentable and glares at her arm with the repulsive peacock feather tattoo. It’s been eight years since that morning when her whole life burned around her, her whole extended family vanished in the blink of an eye and she was sold into the slave markets of the Hutts before she was even aware what that meant. 
“Inej Ghafa, the mistress will see you now,” a mechanical voice says over the speaker hidden in her room. Luxurious drapes and curtains cover the mechanical aspects of the room, but can’t hide the prison-like nature of a room without windows in a pleasure house. This has always been Inej’s cage. 
Of course, to the Empire, this isn’t slavery. She has an indenture that she’s working off, this was a choice she made. Inej stands. The words are bullshit. It’s a pretty story told by those who believe themselves to be above such terrible things just because they use different words. Inej is old enough to know what happens in the different rooms of the pleasure house she currently calls home, but still too young to be expected to participate fully. But she knows her days are numbered. 
Girls in this trade grow up quickly. She’s still a tease, only suffering a a groping hand here, a leer there, the occasional bit of voyeurism which makes her skin prickle and means she can never feel comfortable in any room, including her own.
Inej dresses with practiced movements in the ridiculous trappings Madam Helene requires. There are far too many bells on the outfit, too many dangling bits that can tangle for it to really be the exotic outfit Helene claims the clients want. She hates the way the silk feels against her skin when it used to mean the soothing comfort of performance attire. 
For now, her role is to just be an ornamentation for the pleasure house, but madame makes sure she knows what could happen the moment she steps a toe out of line. She’s not above selling Inej off before her time, the cost of which would do nothing to lower the exorbitant cost of her supposed indenture.  
Inej keeps her head down and walks quickly to the main room. In the early hours, there are few patrons who might be looking for a companion, but Inej has learned to keep her head down in any case. She’s short and skinny - underdeveloped to most tastes - so aren’t many interested in her and the ones that are she should avoid with even more care.  
There’s a boy in the room with Helene: a boy with a familiar cane. Inej is so surprised to see him that she forgets to look away meekly when his dark eyes meet hers. She tilts her head in curiosity. Last she saw, he was slipping out of a back hallway which she knew allowed Helene to eavesdrop on clients as they spent the night with girls, or that she offered to well-paying customers who took pleasure from that sort of thing. 
He looks just as cold as he did that night, but she vividly remembers the surprise in his eyes when she spoke from over his shoulder. He wasn’t a regular customer at the brothel but he was on good terms with a couple members of the staff and she’d seen him exchange kruge for information on more than one occasion. Last she saw him, she’d offered him help. 
“Ah, there’s my little Suli Lioness.” Madam Helene smiles benevolently, but her perfume chokes Inej as she wraps an arm around her. “Inej, do you know who this is?” 
“They call him Dirtyhands,” she answers, voice proper and meek as Helene likes. All the other girls have told her not to ask questions any time she tries to find out more. She can’t help but wonder if offering herself to him was a mistake, but she knows this place will kill her if she doesn’t find a way out. 
“Hmm…,” Madame hums. She turns to the boy with a set face and Inej’s chest tightens in apprehension. “I’m afraid your offer will not be accepted, Mr. Brekker. Inej is precious to me.” Her bejeweled fingers dig into Inej’s shoulder. “I couldn’t possibly part with her.” 
The boy raises an impeccable eyebrow. “I was under the impression our negotiations were finalized.” 
Helene releases an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, you silly boy. Did you know the Empire has offered quite the reward for you?” 
Inej tenses. She knows that Madame is fickle in her alliances, but she’s never openly invited storm troopers into her house: they don’t pay well. 
“You’d better run, little boy, if you want to get out of here before they can grab you.” 
Two doors into the main room slide open with a whoosh of air to reveal armored bodies with blasters levelled at the boy. Inej’s quick eyes note that the door closest to Brekker has no guard, instead being left clear if he wants to escape. If she were him, she would be running but instead he looks bored as he stares back at Madame. He lifts his wrist to check his time piece, an old fashioned analog device that hasn’t been used in decades. 
There’s a pulse of static followed by a volley of blaster shots. Inej jerks down out of the way but is shocked to see that none of the shots were aimed at them. 
“You should have taken the money, Helene,” the boy shaking space dust from his jacket. “We could have continued this lucrative partnership.” 
Madame pales and looks around at the rumpled crew of men who are all standing around. Most have holstered their guns, but a tall dark-skinned man walks up to them and gestures Helene back away from Inej. Madame drops her grip as if she can’t get her distance fast enough. She turns to the boy. 
“Please! You have to understand, the troopers would have killed me if I didn’t.” 
The boy looks at her impassively before shrugging. “Per Haskell is still willing to buy out her indenture. I’m sure we can agree on a more reasonable price.” 
Inej snorts. She can’t help it. They’re literally haggling over the price of her indenture after not killing one another. Frankly, it’s ridiculous. The boy looks over at her. Although his face is a mask which reveals no secrets, Inej sees a hint of amusement lurking in his dark eyes before he focuses again on Madame Helene. 
“Congratulations,” the dark-skinned man who shooed Madame Helene away says, leaning down to her, even as his eyes stay on the boy and madam. “You’re being rescued.” 
She looks around at the rag tag group she’s now willing to bet are Rebellion spies and wonders if this will actually be any better. Beyond them, she spots a couple of Helene’s girls with their bloodshot eyes, thin skin and haunted looks. It’s enough to remind her that is it. This is what she wants: a chance to save her father and get revenge on the Empire which has caused her so much pain. 
Inej straightens as much as she can. It looks like she’s joining the rebellion. 
<hr> 
Three years later… 
“You ever wonder if Kaz is actually a demon?” Jesper asks speculatively. He points his blaster to the sky and stares down the barrel. It’s in the best possible order he can make it. The sights are calibrated, the lazer refined and the trigger pull smooth. He couldn’t ask for a better weapon. 
Other than it’s partner, which is still in his holster and also freshly taken care of. 
“You’re supposed to be watching his back, Jesper,” the Wraith’s voice reminds him, tinged with annoyance. 
“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, rolling over so he can look over the side of the building to where Kaz is meeting with his contact. “You know, I’m still not sure why all three of us need to be here for one pilot.” 
“If you want, we can always switch positions,” Inej offers. “You can play get-away pilot.” 
Jesper snorts as he lines up his sight again. “Yeah, right. That’s all yours, spider. Besides we needed the sniper position here, remember?” 
There’s a long suffering sigh over the radio and Jesper grins. Through the scope his eyes bounce to Kaz. He can’t see his face, but Jesper knows he’s got that stone face of annoyance, which, as it turns out, is not so different from his normal ambivalent face except that it includes the slight twitching of the vein at his temple. 
Inej claims he’s seeing things, that it’s all in Jesper’s head. According to her, Kaz’s tell has to do with his eyes or some other sappy thing like that because they’re both secretly in love with each other. Jesper thinks they’re both idiots and he likes to think that one day, if he makes a bad enough joke or an inappropriate enough comment, that vein on Kaz’s temple is going to burst. 
He thinks it's good to have goals like that. It makes the dirty work they do for the Rebellion more palatable. 
“I still think it would be better to have me on the ground,” Inej grumbles. “You know I’m no good at the piloting stuff.” 
“You’re the one who wanted to come. If I recall, Per Haskell offered you leave and instead you came here.” Jesper notices the stiffening of Kaz’s shoulders. His informant is still calm, if a little jumpy-looking, so he knows that’s not the source of the tension. His eyes scan the street and see nothing alarming. 
Jesper hasn’t asked but he knows there’s something going on here that they’re not sharing. Inej has been wound tight since they started to hear rumors of an Imperial weapon strong enough to take out a planet. While it was still just a rumor, Kaz and Inej were chasing the thread down with a vengeance. It’s what brought them back to this city world where they had found Inej three years ago. 
Now if only his sneaky little cohorts would share the secret with him. That would be great. 
Jesper grumbles to himself. Like that would ever happen. He looks through the scope of his rifle. The tell tale of white of stormtrooper armor catches his eye and Jesper focuses on the location. The odd trooper presence in a city like this isn’t necessarily something to make note of. It happens on occasion, but this is a pair and he can spot another pair making their way in what looks to his eyes like search patterns. 
“Heads up, Kaz. We might have company.” Jesper says as he keeps an eye on the soldiers. “Moving in pairs. Looks like a search pattern.” 
They’re too far away to hear the words that are spoken, but Jesper can guess what it is from here: “Hey! You there!” 
He watches as Kaz drags their contact into an alley as the storm troopers converge from two directions. 
“I’ve lost sight of you, Kaz.” Jesper sights the troopers through his scope and taps a finger against the trigger. Killing troopers brings more attention than Kaz likes. They work in secret. “Exit strategy?” 
Through Kaz’s comm he hears the panicked pleas of Kaz’s contact swiftly silenced by a laser bolt. He grimaces at the additional body count as Kaz’s gravelly voice comes over the comm. 
“I’ve got it. Jesper, join Inej. Meet me at the rendezvous point.” 
He takes one last look at the troopers closing in on the alley and then stands. If Kaz needed help, he would ask. The man had a thousand and one plans. There’s no way he didn’t account for a way out of this trap. It sounds like he’s probably climbing, a feat considering his bum leg from when he landed on it wrong a couple years back and it never healed properly.  
“You know, for once I’d like one of these missions to go smoothly,” Jesper mutters under his breath as he hightails it back to the ship. He stows his blaster and keeps it from sight as he moves through the crowds. Seedy cities have been a second home to him for years, since he left the Imperial flight academy, if he’s being honest. He liked the anonymity the city gave him. It always felt better than the emptiness of the moisture farm he grew up on. He hates the heat and the sand. 
Oh, God, the sand. 
He walks aboard the ship with the swagger of a drunk who won big at the betting table. He nods jovially to those he passes. There are a couple glances down to the pistols at his waist, but that’s normal on a large port like this one. Intergalactic travel to major cities has always been fraught with trouble and this one isn’t especially savory. They don’t have the clearance for savory. 
Inej sits on the ramp of the ship, sprawled out across it like a cat. She opens her eyes as he arrives and stretches. “Ready to go?” 
“Shouldn’t the get away pilot be ready to run?” Jesper teases as they walk up into the ship and Inej diverts to the cockpit, starting the take off procedure. 
“I spent the last hour bemoaning my terrible coworker who insists on gambling at each port and always staggers back drunk, occasionally with unexpected company. I’ve already got tower clearance to leave. And taking off won’t set any red flags with the Empire so we’re clear.” 
Jesper drops into the copilot chair as Inej goes through engine checks. “You did all that?” 
“You’re not the only one capable of sweet talking people, Fahey.” She shoots him a look and he chuckles. 
“I remember when your first attempt to blend in. Didn’t you end up stabbing someone?” 
Inej scowls at the memory. “And no one has tried to grab my body since then without a threat of a knife point.” 
Jesper chuckles. “Fair enough.” He shifts as they fly high enough to leave the atmosphere and then drop back down, drifting through the carefully mapped out empty space of blind spots that allow them to drift down to the meeting point. Despite it taking them almost no time to get there, Kaz is already sitting against a crate on the roof of a run down building, cane held out in front of him with his hands crossed on top. 
Jesper moves back toward the loading bay and opens the doors. He leans against the side of the doorway as the ship turns to face Kaz. “Hiya, honey. Miss me?” 
As always Kaz rolls his eyes at Jesper’s attitude as he climbs the ramp. “We’re clean. Any trouble at the port?” 
“Nope,” Inej reports from the cockpit. “Just a couple nosy traders looking for a good time. Sent them after Jesper.” 
“Har har,” he shoots back as the ramp closes with a firm whoosh of pressure stabilizing. He turns to Kaz who has dropped onto the bench and closed his eyes. His lame foot is extended slightly in front of him, a tell that it’s aching from the exercise of escaping the troopers. Jesper can also see where his blaster sticks out from under his jacket, the clip of the holster no longer in place. He definitely used it. “Did you get the intel?” 
Kaz nods. 
“Where are we headed?” Inej asks. From the body of the shuttle, Jesper sees her hand hover over the hyperspeed settings, preparing to change the destination of their jump. 
“The pilot is on Jedha.” 
They both freeze and you could hear a pin drop in the shuttle. Jesper glances at Inej and sees the same worry painted in the lines of her face. “Are you sure?” 
Kaz finally opens his eyes and leans forward. “It’s been confirmed. That’s the second source and this one claims to have actually seen the pilot.” 
“But he’s a defector, why would he go there?” Jesper asks. 
“Jedha’s not a stronghold for the Empire, but they do trade there.” Kaz answers, as if that explains the reasoning. 
“But it’s a Shu stronghold. They’re cut off. We haven’t had contact in years.” Jesper glances at Inej in the cockpit. “Nina was there when the communications shut down. She wasn’t able to get out and no one’s been able to go in.” 
Kaz rams a gloved hand over the top of his cane. “That isn’t strictly true.” 
Inej whips around. “What?” 
He sighs. “We have a way onto the planet. The problem will be finding the defector and getting him to talk to us.” 
“And getting off planet again,” Jesper cuts in. “Or have you forgotten how the Shu seize whoever and whatever they want? There’s a reason we don’t have an outpost there.” 
Kaz stares at him with those cold, blank eyes and then turns toward Inej. “Set the course.” 
For a long moment, Inej doesn’t move. Her fingers tap against the control as she gazes at Kaz with an inscrutable expression on her face for a moment before she turns back to the controls and the ship lurches into hyperspace. 
Jesper crosses his arms as he faces Kaz from across the ship. “You knew we were headed to Jedha.” 
Kaz stares back at him for a moment and then closes his eyes. He leans back against the side of the ship. Jesper wishes he was surprised about the lack of communication. 
He sits down next to Kaz. “This way on to Jedha...does it have anything to do with Nina?” 
Kaz cracks open an eye. He looks Jesper over and shuts them again. “She was able to get one message out since the Shu shut down. The last message that got out - the one that opened a path - the agent was lost. Haven’t heard anything since.” 
“Nina?” 
“Under orders to lay low.” 
“Are we taking her out with us?” 
Kaz’s hands tighten on the head of his cane. “We’ll see.” 
<hr> 
There was something happening. Nina looks around the marketplace covertly as she examines the fruit in the stall in front of her. It’s the same bland, slightly bruised fruit that they always have. Two years on this desert planet and she’s still not used to the blandness of the food. She’s missing the lush variety of Aldaraan and the sweets she used to eat by the bushel. There’s no sweets here in Jedha, especially not in the mostly abandoned temple. 
She exchanges a coin for two shrivelled pieces of fruit and a smile with the vendor. She slips off the main thoroughfare and into the archway that leads into the dilapidated temple. Like most of Jedha, it’s covered in a fine layer of sand and dust, and shows the wear and tear of years of war. 
She tosses a piece of fruit to the tall and skulking shadow that leans against the archway. Matthias catches the fruit of the air. He pulls a wickedly long knife from behind his back and cuts the fruit into meticulous pieces, eating with precise movements to stop the juice from creating a sticky mess. 
Nina is far less careful. She bites into the fruit and does her best to stop the overripe fruit from spilling juice down her chin. It’s a messy process and her fingers will end up coated in sugary sweetness. It’s her little act of rebellion that makes Matthias shake his head in her direction, when his eyes aren’t sweeping the plaza. 
“There’s something in the wind,” he says as he slowly eats another slice of his fruit. Nina’s is almost gone. She’s sad for that. 
“Rumors.” Nina glances at the gangsters on the corner of the street with their strange metal suits. They’re looking antsy, searching the street. “There’s not much chatter. Something about an Imperial pilot. Broke through the Shu blockade.” 
Matthias’s eyes drift back across the crowds of people. Nina rearranges her robe and leans against her staff. Two years posing as acolytes of the temple and proselytizing about Sankts has her accustomed to her character. No one bothers with a monk spouting ideas of an old religion they no longer believe in. 
“The Empire is still confined to their kyber shipments,” Matthias observes. He casually cuts the seeds from his fruit. “Their shuttle routes haven’t been altered. The Shu though.” His eyes dart to their locations around the square. “They’re looking for someone.” 
“A defector,” Nina says. 
Matthias finally looks over at her in surprise. “Yours or mine?” 
“Does it matter?” she asks. “Either way, we need to find them before anyone else.” 
“Do we?” Matthias grumbles and slips his knife back into the sheath hidden somewhere on his person. “It’s not like anyone’s come to get us in the last two years.” 
Nina rolls her eyes. They’ve had this argument before. “Come now, druskelle. Where’s that attitude of dedication to the Empire?” 
He snorts. “It died two years ago.” One of the Shu guards moves and Matthias’s attention strays. “Think it’s important enough that they’ll risk their peace with the Shu?” 
Beneath the question is the unspoken one that neither of them have put words to, but they both know is lingering in the back of their minds: Is this defector more important than they are? Nina’s last mission was to get a contact off Jedha to the Rebellion. Matthias had saved her from capture by the Shu and they hadn’t been able to risk an attempt to leave Jedha since then. The Empire had some sort of deal with the Shu that allowed them access to the Kyber mines but that was it. 
“Perhaps it’s time we went to collect tithes, Brother Helvar,” Nina announces. She pulls up the hood of her robes and leans on her staff as she walks out from the temple. Matthias follows behind her with grumbled complaints under his breath. The occupants of the city are familiar with their dynamic, although they’re sure to vary the times they depart the temple. Routines are too predictable. 
Matthias doesn’t speak even as Nina stops to talk with every friendly face she sees. For the first year, he had complained at every moment, even as she explained to him the importance of blending in, of becoming part of the populace. Now he even lets the children climb on him when she stops to share a story about the saints. 
“They’re jumpy,” Lin shares with Nina in whispered tones, her eyes darting around the square even though there don’t appear to be guards around right now. “Jan said he saw stormtroopers preparing to enter the city.” 
Nina performs a blessing on an elderly man. “Any idea what they’re looking for?” 
“A pilot.” Lin shifts her daughter around on her hip. “Imperial pilot. You don’t want to get between the troopers and their goal. The Shu are looking for him too. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay out of their way.” 
Matthias moves closer. “And the pilot?” 
Lin glances at him and then back at Nina. She’s always been more skittish around men. It’s a look Nina’s uncomfortably familiar with and one she knows speaks to a violent past interaction. The way she grips her daughter just a bit closer breaks Nina’s heart. 
Nina nods encouragingly. 
“Down by the old refractory.” Lin freezes up as soon as the words escape her mouth. Her eyes widen in surprise at what she just divulged. She darts away in a panic, leaving Nina and Matthias to continue to serve the poor with their usual tithes. 
By unspoken agreement, Matthias follows Nina’s lead as she takes them on a winding path. The last year and half of long meandering routes work in their favor as Nina leads them with more purpose. 
It feels good to have a purpose again. She hasn’t had contact with the Rebellion, but if this is big enough that the Empire is willing to fight the Shu for the interloper, then it’s big enough for the Rebellion to also be looking. The Empire has the strength to use brute force. The Rebellion will send Kaz Brekker. Per Haskell would be an idiot to send anyone else. 
As they get closer to their destination, Nina slows her pace and purposefully plays up her monk persona, passing out alms and blessings in equal measure. Matthias moves gruffly in her wake, watching her back in a way that might be suspicious if it hadn’t been his stable characteristic for the last two years. The Shu are used to their dynamic of the devout believer jaded sceptic. They had adopted the personas for safe passage before the Shu blockade and been forced to maintain it since then. 
It was useful, despite neither Nina nor Matthias being well versed in espionage. 
By the time they reach the old refractory buildings, Nina and Matthias are moving at a crawl, speaking to every person they see. Nina’s eyes scan the faces for one that looks out of place, one that screams uncertainty or distrust. 
She gets pointed down a dark alley by one of the urchins after she shares with him one of her precious jojo beans. It’s the closest she can get to her sweets in this city. She glances at Matthias and he nods. His body is intentionally relaxed, ready to move as necessary in response to a threat. 
Nina leads the way into the factory, looking around carefully as they move into the space. She breathes in deeply and sinks into the meditative state. The air around her settles, buzzing with the life force of the inhabitants of the city. In a couple of breaths, she narrows it further so she can feel the interior of the building. 
Matthias mutters under his breath, something about religious mumbo jumbo and insanity. 
Nina turns sideways and opens one eye to glare at Matthias. He rolls his eyes and gestures at her to continue.  
Her use of the Force is unrefined, based more in the faith that it will work than on actual knowledge about what she’s doing. It’s an old religion and the order they’re with is still respected even if not believed in. Okay, so maybe respected is pushing it. They’re disregarded as religious fanatics who don’t do much of anything. 
She follows the light of the Force through the factory, letting it guide her feet, trusting it to protect her from bumping into any of the clutter. Dimly, she senses Matthias grunt as he moves something out of her path before she hits it or it hits her. She keeps her focus on the life signature that shines like a beacon, coming to a stop once they’re in sight of the huddled mass. She opens her eyes and peers into the gloom. 
“We’re here to help you,” Nina says. Her soft voice carries around the large space. She ignores Matthias’s mutter about talking to herself. 
“Who...who are you?” A tremulous voice asks. It sounds younger than Nina expected, more uncertain. She thought a defector would be more hardened, more convinced of their path to go against the Empire in such a way. 
Nina squats down to look at the hunched over figure. Matthias has one hand hovering over his hidden firearm, the other on a dagger. She’s deep in her meditation of the Force and senses no danger from the huddled figure. 
“You’re the pilot, right?” Nina asks instead of answering. 
His eyes look her over, lingering on her and Matthias’s matching robes. “You’re priests?” 
He inches forward. There’s enough light cast on him that his Imperial uniform catches her eye, answering the question he avoids. She smiles softly at him and holds out her hand. Behind her Matthias shifts, disliking her proximity to perceived danger, if she has to guess. 
“Word on the street is you’re a defector. We’re here to help.”  
<hr> 
Wylan doesn't think he's ever been this cold in his life. Which is bizarre because this is a desert planet. You'd think it would be warm but instead he's found himself huddled in dark corners, scavenging like a rat for scraps for the last couple days while he tries to escape notice from the Shu. Jedha was supposed to be a safe haven for him, somewhere the Empire couldn't touch. The Shu had tried to grab him first, had detained him and demanded answers to their questions about the Empire. His protests that he wanted to defect fell on deaf ears. Then they'd dragged him into a cave with a beast they called Bor Gullet. 
It's a blur after that. 
He remembers waking in a cell to garbled words, a blurred hologram of his father glaring disdainfully down at him. A comment about the Empire being grateful to the Shu. Wylan doesn't know how he escaped. There's a memory of loud noise, a flash of heat, and dirt. Then it's all dark and cold. 
He'd avoided people after that, stuck to shadows, and only ventured out when the emptiness of his stomach threatened to eat him from the inside out. 
He doesn't even know how long it's been since he escaped the cell...or was released...he doesn't know. 
Then the woman appeared, like an angel out of the darkness and she promises salvation. 
Wylan knows enough of his father's games not to immediately trust the gesture. "Who are you?"  
“We’re with the Rebellion,” she says with a smile. 
The monk behind her rolls his eyes and turns away. They don’t look like any monks he recognises. The only person he’s heard of who truly follows the old religion is the Darkling and Wylan’s not so unfortunate to have ever seen him in person. “You don’t look like Rebels.” 
“He’s right. We don’t,” the man tells her. 
The woman looks over her shoulder, eyes narrowed in a glare. “Matthias Helvar.” She turns conspiratorially back to Wylan and there’s a friendly glint in her eye that makes him want to trust her. “Once he was the most devout of you all. Rose through the ranks of the Empire almost as high as they come. You want out of the Empire. We can help.” 
Wylan’s eyes drift over the man’s features and there’s something that reminds him of the way General Brum’s men carry themselves, the elite of the troopers he’s only seen from a distance. Wylan wants to string words together but they slip away like soap and water. 
“Will you come with us?” She prompts, yet again. 
He can’t combine the fears and hopes and questions into coherent sense. All he can do is nod in agreement. Whether they harm him or save him, he’ll be dead or caught if he stays here on his own. He needs allies and he’s not in a mental state where he can do much of anything himself. 
“Good,” she says. She pulls him forward and manhandles Wylan into a monk’s robe over his tattered pilot’s uniform. “I’m Nina. This is Matthias. We’re going to get you out of here alive. Good?” 
Wylan nods. She shoves a basket into his hands and drops additional bits of clutter from the warehouse floor into it. 
“We should be heading back,” Matthias rumbles. 
“Walk between us,” Nina instructs, pulling the hood of his robe up. Matthias mimics the movement. “Don’t make eye contact. Don’t talk to anyone. Just stay in step with us. We’ll speak for you if it comes to that.” 
Wylan has enough sense to nod along. He knows talking will only give away his current state of complete confusion. He can see the looks Nina and Matthias exchange in response to his silence. He’s not so lost that he doesn’t understand what’s going on but the thoughts take too long to reach his lips and disappear like fragrance on a breeze. 
The ground is dusty and uneven under Wylan’s feet. It captures his attention as he walks, so different from the metal hallways and corridors he’s used to walking.  His feet catch from where they scrape the ground and he tries to tell his body to lift his feet higher, but they don’t seem willing to respond any more than what they do by instinct. When was the last time he walked on anything that wasn’t steel? 
He’s so preoccupied by swirls of dirt that he walks right into a wall. 
Well, not a wall, but the giant monk - Matthias. He bounces off the man’s back, which feels like the equivalent of walking into a wall. The man doesn’t even move in response to him walking into him at full speed, but Wylan almost falls on his butt, and would if it wasn’t for Nina catching him. 
She steps past him to stand next to Matthias. She pushes him further into the shadows behind Matthias as she looks past him to see what’s grabbed his attention. Wylan shuffles sideways and ducks down so he can look around the hulking figures. 
The white helmets break through his current haze and Wylan stumbles backwards. The Storm Troopers followed him. He can’t allow himself to be captured, not after he finally escaped that place and his father’s restrictive control. 
“Wait!” Nina whispers harshly, but Wylan’s body is moving without his consent. The urge to get away is too strong. It drives him, haltingly, step-after-step through twisting and confusing alleyways. He’s not sure where he’s going except away. If he can get to a port, he’s sure he can fly a ship. 
Another flash of white Imperial helmets send him careening in another direction which leads him into a square. The sudden exposure leaves him disoriented and he spins around looking for another exit as a child is ushered into one house and shutters are slammed shut. Wylan gulps. He walks back and turns, running into someone for the second time. This time the person rocks as he crashes into them, but Wylan’s still the one wheeling back. 
He blinks at the man, carrying some sort of stick. He looks like he could belong here except that his eyes are too intent. It’s the kind of gaze you couldn’t stand for too long but are also scared to look away from. It takes him a second to notice the tiny girl at his side. She’s looking around, causally flipping a blade in her hand. The other rests on a blaster. Now that he realized that, Wylan notices the man is also armed. 
“Wylan Van Eck?” The man asks. 
Wylan blinks at him in shock. He’s helpless to do anything but nod. They’re not Empire and they don’t look like the Khergud who grabbed him, so they can’t be that bad. Or at least are likely better than the alternative.  
“Right. Time to be off. Let Jesper know we’ve got the package.” The man turns abruptly. 
Wylan glances at the girl who steps aside and gestures at him to follow. He hasn’t decided if he will when there are footsteps behind him. He twists back to see who’s following and breathes a little easier when the monks appear. Maybe monks are better than whoever the man is.  
Maybe he’s dead anyway. 
“Oh good. You’re here.” The man says. “We can all go then.” 
Nina smirks from where she’s bent over catching her breath. “Nice to see you too, Kaz. Been ages.” 
<hr> 
It’s convenient that they were able to find the pilot and Nina in one place. He would have trouble getting Inej and Jesper out of here with just the pilot. They’d had no communication with Nina, no way to get in contact with her once they were in the atmosphere. Kaz takes it in stride and moves back the way they came. The rest will follow and someone will make sure the pilot comes along with them. 
It would have been a fantastic escape. In and out with no trouble whatsoever. It would have been too lucky for him, so the storm troopers that come streaming racing around the corner where Nina and her friend emerged are hardly a surprise. The real unlucky bit is that they also appear in the two other access points to the square. 
The pilot looks ready to bolt. Nina and the second monk steps forward. Kaz respects the bulk of him and hopes that he’s good in a fight. If it were just him and Inej, they would split up and meet at the rendez-vous. The pilot is going to be the issue. 
“Halt. Surrender or you will be terminated.” 
Inej pushes Wylan behind her and toward Kaz. The boy curls in on himself. How he ever got up the courage to desert the Empire, Kaz hasn’t a clue. Now they just need to get him out of here with whatever valuable knowledge is worth breaking the standoff with the Shu. 
Kaz pushes him into a doorway, out of sight of the blasters. “Stay down.” 
The boy whimpers. 
Nina steps forward, hands raised in a deceptively helpless gesture. “Calm down. We’re all friends here.” 
“Stand down or we will open fire,” the trooper repeats. The entire line readies their weapons. Their blasters might be unreliable and clunky, but with so many firing, they’re bound to hit something. 
“You don’t want to shoot us.” Nina tries again. 
“That’s what you’ve got?” the second monk asks incredulously. 
She glares at him. Kaz watches Inej palm a blade and twirl it effortlessly in one hand. The harsh sunlight glints off the edge of the blade: steel instead of a laser edge many prefer. He knows she likes the way the old fashioned blades feel in her hand. They look like they belong in her grasp. 
Nina steps forward again, closer and closer to the troopers. “You’re not going to shoot us.” 
“Hand over the pilot.” The trooper says. From across the square, Kaz can hear the gun prep to fire. This isn’t working. 
“Yeah. That’s not going to happen,” he drawls from the back of the group. The second monk glares at him, but Kaz just twirls his kane, unbothered. It was going to come down to this anyway. There’s no point holding it off as more backup and fire power arrives to support the troopers. 
Shadows fall across the square and Kaz gets his first look at the notorious Khergud soldiers who have kept Jedha independent for the last two years. “Imperial Troopers. You have no authority in our city. The pilot is ours.” 
Nina, her monk, and Inej grow tense at the new party. Beside him the pilot starts to mutter under his breath, rocking back and forth. 
This actually works to their advantage as the troopers are forced to divert their attention. The Khergud fires directly at the troopers before jumping into the air. The troopers open fire, most on the Khergud, judging them to be the bigger threat. 
Inej seizes the moment to dive forward into the fight, taking out two opponents in moments before she’s engaged by one of the Shu soldiers. She moves like an acrobat, twirling through flailing limbs that breeze past her. She’s a force of nature. 
Kaz is distracted from his awe by a guard landing a few feet away and leaping for Wylan. He dispatches the soldier with a few whacks of his cane. He crumples under a well-placed hit to the temple. 
More troopers race toward the noise. They stop around the corner of an alley, firing from their protective spots and forcing the monk and Kaz to step back to cover. They lob a grenade into the square. Kaz takes two steps forward and hits it back with the metal head of his cane. It soars in a perfect arch back to the troopers, who scramble for cover too late. 
The monk nods in acknowledgment and moves to relieve Nina from her two enemies. Inej falls back as she takes out her opponent and the rest are distracted by Nina and the monk. She moves to stand alongside Kaz, stretching out the muscles she just used as she slips her blades back in their many holsters. The explosion rocks the block which takes out one contingent of troopers but they're met with more troopers and Shu, crawling out of the cracks like cockroaches. 
A moment later shots arc over their heads, rapid fire, each one hitting its target and leaving the recipients incapacitated.  
Kaz relaxes infintestimently. He'd been prepared to dive for cover. His hand twitches toward Inej but he knows she can take care of herself. She doesn’t need him trying to tackle her and throwing off her center of balance.  
A figure emerges along the roofline, a rifle resting against his shoulder. “There were an awful lot of explosions for people who were supposed to be blending in.” 
“I hope you’ve got an exit plan, Brekker,” Nina says. She diverts to the Imperial pilot after a glance at the monk. 
He nods and moves for the alley. “This way.” He glances at Inej and up at the roofline. She nods and follows his tacit directions. Kaz leaves her to do what she does best: cover them from the shadows. 
Kaz walks with purpose through the streets. Now that fighting has broken out, it appears that no one is holding back. Shu are fighting stormtroopers, troopers are fighting the Khergud and civilians are running for cover. Jesper’s  and Inej’s shadows move with them. The monk - who Kaz Brekker suspects is the Druskelle Nina mentioned before she went dark - leads the charge, with his long legs that eat up the ground in long strides. Nina covers their escape with a simple bo staff. 
“Where are we going?” The monk asks as he fires off a round of shots. 
“Left!” Jesper shouts as he crashes to the ground on the back of a Khergud soldier. “I don’t know why we ever thought this was going to be a quiet mission. And I still say we need a demolition expert.” 
“We’re spies, Jesper,” Kaz growls over the sound of battle. 
Jesper shoots him a cocky grin over his shoulder. “But this is so much more fun.” 
“There’s something wrong with you,” the monk mutters. 
“Kaz.” 
He looks sideways, unsurprised to find Inej at his shoulder, silent as always. He follows her gaze upwards and nearly stumbles to a stop. “Jedha doesn’t have a moon.” 
Nina and the monk stumble to a stop. Jesper glances up for a moment. “That’s what I wanted to tell you. It appeared out of nowhere. It’s too big to be a ship but moons don’t move.” 
“That’s it,” Wylan whispers. The pilot suddenly jolts into motion. “We have to go. Now!” 
Kaz is forced into an ungainly run. He tries not to notice Inej hovering at his elbow, keeping pace with him as they race toward the ship. The Imperial pilot is ahead of them all, heedless of laser bolts. Jesper yanks him back by the collar to direct him to the correct ship. 
As he reaches the ramp, Kaz starts to hear screams. 
“Jesper, get us out of here!” Kaz yells. Inej hits the control to shut the ramp as Jesper guns the engine. 
“What do you think I’m doing, Brekker? Buckle up. This ride’s about to get bumpy.” 
<hr> 
The whole world has turned upside down. Matthias isn’t sure what he’s doing, to be perfectly honest. Staying with Nina was a mutually beneficial proposition. They were stuck on a foreign planet, where the only people they could trust were each other. He’d become accustomed to their partnership and been shocked by how much he relied upon her. Now, looking at this ragtag group - so different from the ordered discipline of the elite Druskelle guard - Matthias is at a loss for how the Resistance has managed to become a thorn in the Empire’s side. 
He will admit that they were, like Nina, surprisingly capable and effective. However, he can’t hide how scandalized he is by their lack of any sort of recognizable chain of command. The trio moves like his old unit in that they’re so familiar with each other, they don’t need to shout out commands. But their actions of Jedha display an alarming disregard for a cohesive plan and seem to thrive on the chaos of the moment. 
“What was that?!” The boy with the cane asks, turning around to stare at the group before his eyes zero in on the unfortunate pilot. 
Matthias hasn’t gotten much from the boy, except that he stepped back from the fighting yet was clearly capable of surviving physical confrontation. Nina and his two companions seemed to defer to him as some sort of leader, which spoke to a sharp mind. Nina called him Kaz, which would indicate one of the high level members of Rebel Intelligence. He’s heard him referenced as a nightmare or a demon, spoken of in whispers and myths more than anything else. 
All in all: Matthias expected someone older. 
“That was the Death Star,” Wylan whispers. His eyes look haunted. 
Matthias frowns. “Impossible.” He starts when five sets of eyes jerk towards him in the silence of hyperspace. He grits his teeth. The word wasn’t supposed to be spoken out loud. “They’re decades away from creating that technology.” 
Wylan is shaking his head. “No. They found a scientist. Got him to create what they needed. I...I was able to get away. To warn the Rebellion. It’s a planet killer.” 
“A planet killer?” The small girl repeats. 
“Is that even possible?” Nina glances at him for confirmation. Matthias has no answer. It was only an idea when he was with the Druskelle last. Brum used to talk about it, but it was never close to a reality. Not then. 
“Why don’t you ask Jedha?” Kaz says. 
“We don’t know that it destroyed the whole planet,” the small girl points out. 
The boy doesn’t look away from where he stares out the window at the white streaks of stars passing in hyperspace. “At the very least, we know it destroyed the city. If the Empire has a weapon like that, we’re left defenseless.” 
“That’s why I was sent to find you,” Wylan says. He freezes when all eyes turn to him and he curls in on himself from his spot beside the pilot. Matthias has spent years in Imperial bases and has no idea how this pilot managed to get into the program, let alone became important enough to have access to this top secret project. It seems highly suspect to him. 
“Sent?” The boy asks, finally turning so his whole body faces the pilot. Matthias does have to admit he cuts an intimidating figure even as he leans on his cane. 
The pilot swallows. “The scientist. I was supposed to get to a contact they had with the Rebellion. There was someone I was supposed to connect with...the Wraith? But I got redirected…” He frowns. The more the pilot seems to search for words, the harder they seem to come. 
Matthias has seen this before. “He was captured by the Khergud. They most likely probed his mind using Bor Gullet. That’s how they dealt with any Imperial or Rebel spies they found.” He leans back against the steel hull. It actually feels good to be back in space again after being grounded for so long. 
It feels like freedom. 
The boy looks at Nina. She nods in confirmation. “It’s true. We only escaped detection because of the temple.” 
“Because all she would talk about was the Force,” Matthias mutters. He adjusts his muscles so they’re loose and he can react in an instant if needed. Nina drops into the space beside him, using his shoulder as a pillow as she settles in like a cat that can get comfortable anywhere. 
“I saved your life,” she says without opening her eyes. 
He grunts and doesn’t let his smile emerge.  
“The Wraith,” Kaz repeats, focusing on Wylan again. “What were you supposed to tell them?”
Wylan still looks nervous. “Well, I was supposed to pass on...a message...There’s a way to destroy it. A weakness.” 
“A weakness?” 
Wylan yanks at his hair. It’s useless to try to force him to remember more in his state. Matthias watches the trio of rebels to see what they’ll do at this obstacle. 
“He didn’t tell me,” Wylan whispers, clearly realizing this might not endear him to his rescuers at this point. “I was supposed to...bring someone back. They wanted...they wanted someone to rescue them, and they would share the weakness. I was just supposed to be the messenger. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.” 
Kaz scowls and glances at the girl who looks at the man in the pilot’s seat, all having some sort of silent conversation. Matthias watches the interaction with interest.  
“Where is this base?” Kaz finally moves closer, crouching so he can look Wylan in the eyes. 
“Eadu.” 
Matthias vaguely recalls the outpost. Far from most of the known universe, it’s one of the Empire’s research bases. There’s not a huge platoon placed there for protection. It’s a secret base, kept out of the way, and by necessity sees few changes in personnel. There were a couple training missions on the planet to diversify the team’s experiences and analyze security procedures. 
“We don’t have anyone on Eadu,” the girl notes. 
“Because Eadu’s on lockdown. Nothing in or out that isn’t high level.” The boy flying the craft throws over his shoulder. “Out of the flight academy, I only stopped there once because they needed a supply run immediately. They didn’t even let me off the shuttle. To be a pilot there, you’d have to have some pretty impressive clearance.” 
Matthias alters his assessment of the crew that got them off Jedha. To get through the Imperial Flight Academy is impressive. The man also demonstrated impressive aim and combat skills. Despite not being highly regimented, they do appear to be a solid team. He glances down at Nina. 
“So in order to get the information on the weakness, we have to go to Eadu,” the girl says. She’s twirling a knife in her hands, one with a true steel blade like he hasn’t seen in ages. Her comfort with it is another mark in their favor. 
“Jesper’s right. It’s impenetrable. We haven’t managed to get anyone on the inside.” Kaz taps his fingers on the head of his cane. 
“So we go.” The girl shrugs. “We redirect. We need to find a way to beat this thing or millions more are going to die.” 
“Procedure is to report for further orders. We’ve got the pilot.” Kaz looks at her with a heavy look. 
“Matthias can help.” Nina elbows him as she speaks up. 
He scowls down at her as everyone turns to stare at him. She didn’t even bother to open her eyes to betray him. 
“I’m not a traitor.” Matthias glares at the lot of them. 
“You’ll help,” Nina says with a self-assuredness he’s come to hate over the last couple of years. Because as irksome as it is, she’s usually right about these things. They both know it. 
“We’re supposed to just trust a stranger on your word?” Jesper asks. 
“Get twisted, Fahey. You know my word is good.” 
Kaz and the woman - whose name Matthias still doesn’t know - have another silent conversation. She turns to look at him, her eyes speculative. Kaz leans closer to her. “You think you can do this?” 
She doesn’t take his eyes from Matthias. Her knives continue the casual twisting in her hand. She shrugs and looks back at the mastermind. “It is our kind of job.” 
Kaz nods. “Jesper, alter course. Van Eck, help get him close without being seen. Matthias, you need to tell us everything you know, and quickly.” 
“Why should I?” 
“Because if you don’t, I’m going to make your life very unpleasant.” 
“How do you even know the pilot is right? How do you know there really is a weakness? This could be a trap.” It sounds like the kind of thing Jarl Brum would think up to capture Rebel spies.
“Faith,” Nina says. “This is the right choice.” She finally sits up and stretches. 
Matthias rolls his eyes at her religious display. He sighs. “I can tell you what I know. It could still be a trap.” 
“The pilot is Wylan Van Eck. He’s on my list of potential informants. He became an Imperial pilot because of familial connections. It’s how he has access to sensitive information. We know they’re working on something on Eadu. If this is what he says, then we need that information.” The girl explains it in an even voice. 
“And if there isn’t a secret weakness?” 
Kaz and Inej exchange a long look.  
“Then we find another way to blow it up,” Jesper supplies. 
Matthias isn’t sure he likes the looks of glee on their faces. 
“So how do we get in?” 
The girl turns to look at Matthias, her dark eyes just the slightest bit terrifying now that he’s actually getting a good chance to size her up. She tends to fade into the background and let her comrades take charge, but definitely is not to be underestimated. He stares at her and then glances at Kaz. 
“Inej is a ghost,” Nina says. “She can get in and out without anyone noticing.” 
He looks her over, still assessing. This moment, more than any in the last two years of surviving, feels like he’s standing on the edge of a cliff. The last two years he could justify to his superiors: he was surviving a hostile planet, he had to get close to Nina or he would have died, he was trying to learn the secrets of the Rebel scum. This was different. If he does this, he’s helping the Rebel cause. He’s actively going against everything he’s ever learned.
Nina hits him in the shoulder, as if sensing his internal conflict. She twists upright to look at him and raises an eyebrow in challenge. 
He can hear her voice in his head, berating him for his strict no-nonsense rules and his consuming hatred for anything that goes against the order of the Empire. There were countless debates as they marched through Jedha, each an intellectual exercise. He can honestly say that he doesn’t believe the Empire is never wrong, but is that enough to make him give up their secrets? 
“They murdered everyone in Jedha,” she whispers to him softly. “Lin, Mauri, Katya…” She closes her eyes against the pain. 
He wants to wrap her in his arms and pull her close. Nina feels everything so deeply, unable to stop herself from connecting with everyone she meets. He wants to protect from that pain, to comfort her. Those lives lost today. They were innocents. People that should have been protected and instead… 
He opens his eyes and nods his agreement to Nina. 
She grins, life and joy filling her back up as she bounces around in her seat, the way she gets excited whenever they found something reasonably sweet on Jedha. “Matthias meet Inej. Inej, meet Matthais. He’s a little shy but he knows what’s at stake.”
It’s like shedding a piece of armor or throwing off the last vestiges of who he once was. There’s no turning back now, and he has surprisingly little regret as he opens his eyes and asks the first damning question: “Where do you want to start?”
... 
Look out for Part II on 9/9!
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gwynpool · 3 years
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it’s 2AM and i just finished Rule of Wolves (spoilers definitely up ahead)
first, to inform everyone, i read the spoilers when it got leaked in twitter cuz i can’t help myself. (it’s a sickness, i know) i think this is important since it definitely influenced my perspective upon reading the book. also, this is my first time being early in a party so yay me! going in ROW was easy for me because i started King of Scars the day before book 2’s actual release date so everything’s fresh.
secondly, this is really long so i’m sorry. i just have a lot of feelings and need to write it all down. on with the rant.
King of Scars was wonderful to me since it gave me my favorite Shadow and Bone character and the girl who i used to hate for being a mean girl but who I now admire with every ounce of my being. It also introduced a new ship that I am now obsessed with and is ruling besides my love for Jude&Cardan. Not to mention, it gave us Nina, whom though i’m not entirely a fan of due to all my love focusing on Kaz and Inej, allowed the connection between Shadow&Bone with SixofCrows.
Moving on, ROW was a ride and whirlwind of emotions. unfortunately, it wasn’t always the best kind.
I love the fantasy elements of it (tho it was a huge leap especially with the saints power thingy) and the politics because i am a sucker for scheming and stealing thrones.
the zoyalai teasing and angst was painful but in the best way since slowburn is what keeps me going.
nina finding comfort (and attraction, apparently) from hanne made my heart flutter because i haven’t gotten over matthias but this allowed a sort of closure and next chapter for our waffle-loving queen.
the promised wedding by leigh wasn’t what i expected but i’m not complaining since david&genya deserved nothing but happiness.
almost everything seems going well (aside from the fact that aleksander was ressurected apparently)and then everything crashes and burns and i just have to wonder why?
so the promised funeral alongside the wedding one, immediately comes after two? three? chapters as they were attacked during the afterparty of the wedding. and guess what? leigh killed the fcking groom.
the thing is i already knew he was going to die (with the spoilers and all) but i did not expect it to come immediately after the freaking wedding. not even halfway through the book!
being spoiled, i think, took most of the pain from the event but it doesn’t lessen the fact that it was completely unnecessary??? like though the characters grieved, nothing much was affected from his death? also, don’t talk to me about the character development for the survivors from this tragic event because there. was. absolutely. NONE.
and then we have the fricking darling ressurected. i love him in the first book of the grishaverse though i knew he was still a villain, don’t get me wrong. and my heart ached but was also relieved with his death in the third. he also inspired one of my all-time favorite fantasy villain(antihero?) in the form of Adelina Amouteru in the Young Elites series.
Ceased to be a Darklina fan and am now shipping Aleksander with Adelina because their power tho? like clings to like and they are both imbued with unfathomable darkness. somebody write fics please.
but bringing him back was what for exactly? leigh bardugo preached on how toxic the darkling character was and how we really shouldn’t like him in terms of agreeing with his ideals and yada yada. and yet she brings him back because apparently, he’s the only one paying her bills.
his conversation with alina tho had me expecting some darklina crumbs with fan service on the side since the stans were all raving about it on twitter *vomiting noises from toxicity* but i was surprised since it just further reminded us of how he truly is a villain in his very core and would do anything to get what he wants. so all in all it wasn’t entirely awful and it actually made me like Mal a bit. (never was a fan of him but that’s my issue, not the character’s)
setting aside the darkling issue a bit, the POV from Mayu was skippable. i mean obviously it still needs to be read for the Shu politics and the khergud existence but it just made me want to go to the next pov. Same goes for the “the monk’s” POV since you all know how i feel about him and the cult with it’s assembly and shit ended up also being unnecessary towards the end. honestly, i could do without the journey of the starless saint and his cult.
i truly enjoyed the fjerdan plot to my surprise and i like how nina kind of went through the last of us 2 circle of hate journey. it was definitely difficult knowing her pain and all that she went through and still choosing to be the better person. and yet, i can’t help but be more proud of her development. also, the supposed death of hanne got me going for a second and was actually ready to storm leigh’s home to fix her mistake. thank god it was plot twist. that’s all i have to say on the nina POV because i don’t wanna ruin my good feeling on this.
the crows cameo gave us a mini heist and it just made me miss reading their adventures. also the suli scene tugged at my heart.
imma skip zoya’s transformation but it utterly made me feel amazing and i have never been more glad that she’s kind of overpowered. she deserves it so fck all them haters. you can choke.
nikolai’s revelation and decision for the ravkan throne was not all that surprising, even without my knowledge of the spoilers. i honestly had a feeling that he was always his best self when he was strumhond and he only chose to fulfill the duties of the king because at that time, there was no other choice. so him giving up the throne to his beloved soldier, summoner and saint was a quite satisfying choice of route. there has been some others who would contest nikolai’s decision to step down as something unnecessary in the grand scheme of things but i would stand by my belief that nikolai made the best choice for ravka and for himself. not to say that i didn’t want to see both the queen and king side by side ruling but what are fanfictions for?
zoyalai is canon and endgame. finally. i can die now.
now the last two chapters was a toss up. for the first one was the darkling’s sacrifice. okay, so i was also spoiled by this from twitter but when i was reading the book, i keep expecting it to be brought up and it wasn’t. so i honestly thought that maybe that spoiler was a prank. lo and behold it was not and it wasn’t until the very last end. so the buildup was goddamn awful. the whole concept of the thorn wood and sort of atlas moment was just no. like you’re just springing this up now? when we’re supposed to be tying up loose ends but making sure it had history and buildup to well, back it up.
also leigh outright writing genya saying it was not a redemption for the darkling and him being unapologetic about his crimes (basically being a truly evil asshole) doesn’t remove the fact that it still comes off as a redemption arc especially with what is now the synopsis of SOC 3 but ill get to that. he still was the one who did a heroic deed and that fucks me up because it was just devastating to me after making peace with his end in ruin and rising. not because i was hurt that he died yet again boohoo but because it kind of invalidates everything that alina, genya, zoya and countless other victims went through.
on a side note, the darling stans on twitter who keeps defending his actions, i would really advise you to reflect on your decisions cuz it is honestly unhealthy. also, you lot talking smack about nikolai and zoya refusing to sacrifice their lives? stop twisting the story to suit your toxic admiration, nikolai was even first to offer up his life and would do so if it was actually possible. so just go hide in your darkling cocoon and stop hating on other characters to justify your favored aleksander.
the very last chapter aka coronation was good because it gave us inej ghafa cameo as captain of her ship and bonding with our resident privateer and also genya, alina and zoya bonding. but it was bad because apparently the darkling chronicles is still not over and now we’re supposed to grant him death like that’s going to make everything okay? i know forgiveness and breaking the circle of hate and revenge is a huge theme in this duology but honestly, this is just too extreme. with nina it was understandable and the people she hated were born of twisted mindset and circumstances but the darkling? hahahah no. he is a literal immortal who was delusional so now that he’s paying for his crimes, you want to allow him death because you have nightmares? zoya, goddamit no! same to you genya and alina. and so this will be the plot for the third six of crows? why can’t we just stop making this about him. now he gunna steal kaz’s thunder? over my dead body.
in the end, i gave this book 4 stars in goodreads because if i ignore the darkling plot, it was a really good use of politics and fantasy merging in a storyline. i can’t fault leigh for choosing to do this since it’s still her book so i definitely don’t have a right to dictate what i expected from this. also, i have a half a mind to believe that she fell in love with ben barnes and had him in mind writing this so i really cannot blame her because i have been under that man’s charms since prince caspian came out. the spoilers i read made me more open in reading this (backwards thinking but eh that’s how i roll) so i’m not at all crushed by what transpired. it was just weird and was lackluster in its attempt to give ravka some sort of peace. frankly, i just want to read the third six of crows book to maybe find some sort of calm in all this craziness and also delve in some zoyalai fanfiction because it was a long time coming.
shameless promotion but if you guys want to check out my nikolai duology spotify playlist, here’s the link:
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buckystarlight · 3 years
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ALRIGHT some book recs coming up, straight from my shelves to yours <3
first of all, i've never read anything bad by holly bourne or sophie kinsella ever. they're mostly quick and fun reads, though holly bourne's books usually center around more serious issues, too.
cemetery boys by aiden thomas. lgbt+ urban fantasy set around el día de muertos, need i say more?
howl's moving castle by diana wynne jones. i've been told this is somewhat different from the ghibli movie, but i didn't grow up with it and so i don't actually know. i went into this without knowing anything but the main characters' names and absolutely loved it.
the guernsey literary and potato peel pie society by mary ann shaffer and annie barrows. one of my all time faves, an epistolary novel set after ww2 in which a bunch of people really love books and it's also sad and beautiful. the movie's great, too!
the school for good and evil by soman chainani. this is a series that they're making into a netflix show next year and kit young will be in it and it's gonna be great. set in a fairy tale universe, two young girls are sent to the titulary school to be main fairy tale characters, essentially. this has some of the most buckwild plot twists i've ever read, and i'm not even joking.
beach read by emily henry. a romance novel between two writers who make a bet to write their next novel in the other one's preferred genre. i'm going to put an 18+ warning on that one though since i don't actually know how old you are and this does get spicy!
wicked by gregory maguire. yes there's a musical. (i had to) this is a retelling of the wonderful wizard of oz, but make it darker and add a dash of political commentary.
invisible women by caroline criado pérez. if you wanna get upset about the patriarchal society we all live in, this is the book for you.
ninth house by leigh bardugo. i know you're familiar with the grishaverse, but i also really liked her other fantasy novel! it's considerably darker, but it has those gritty urban fantasy dark academia vibes that i think are very seasonal.
written in the stars by alexandria bellefleur. i'm currently reading this and i'm all kinds of in love with it. it's got lesbian fake dating, the characters are named after pride and prejudice characters, and there are lots of astrology references. it's glorious.
i also said i wouldn't start reading the marvel comics, but they literally had a falcon and the winter soldier collection at my library sooo if you wanna see alpine and read some very out of context comic excerpts i can highly recommend. i'm very confused and entertained 😂 hope this helps x
YOU ANGEL THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS!! i'm adding all of these to my list rn
also i just ordered ninth house, how did you like it? i read kinda mixed reviews so i really dont know what to expect?
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evasjacks · 3 years
Text
Under the Stars
World: grishaverse, no powers/pirates au
Ship: Zoyalai
Word Count: 9359
AO3
The hazel-eyed man was behind bars.
Zoya supposed that was objective. Technically, she was behind bars. On the wrong side, one would think. The side without a ring of keys, the side that promised a wet cot for the night, and soggy food for breakfast.
He'd turned away from her, deep in a hushed conversation with a Shu girl with a short crop of black hair and an ax strapped to her thigh. Zoya studied them in the silence.
Sturmhond.
She'd heard stories about him, how he'd escaped the Grand Palace's dungeons, the time he'd led the Ravkan Commander on a wild goose chase, leaving false information with fellow pirates they'd been quick to catch. 
She suspected Commander Morozova's interest in him came from that particular incident, though she couldn't help but be impressed. It took them six months to realize all the clues were contradictory, and they'd reached halfway to the Wandering Isle when reports of a raid in Os Alta reached the Commander- and news of the stolen artifact. 
So naturally, Zoya had expected the man to be clever, and she'd known him to be cocky from the stories. She had not, however, anticipated that he'd be so young. Or handsome.
As if sensing her turn of thoughts the Captain's gaze fell on her, honey-toned eyes scanning her face for a hint of Saints knew what. She glared back at him.
"I trust you and Tolya can take care of that?" he asked quietly, attention back on the girl. She nodded once, flashing a grin sharper than the blade of her ax before disappearing up the steps.
The Captain's eyes were back on her. He raised a light brow.
"Do you intend to glare at me for the duration of this trip?"
"Do you intend to keep me locked up for the duration of this trip?" she returned, parroting his words.
Sturmhond grinned- he had the sort of grin her aunt would have said meant trouble. It was an oddly pleased look that made one feel like they'd passed some sort of secret test they hadn't been aware they were taking.
"That depends entirely on you, miss…" he sauntered closer to the bars, coming to stand directly in front of her. And had there been no bars, she might have smacked him for daring to come so near her. 
He raised his brows expectantly.
“Zoya,” she said, then cursed herself for lack of forethought. So much for being a spy, now he knows your real name.
“ Zoya ,” he tested, dragging out the letters of her name. She rather liked the way he said her name. Or he’s just one of those people with nice voices, and you need to get a grip, her mind reasoned.
She suspected it was right.
That’s when she realized that mister pretty-eyes-nice-voice had been talking to her and she’d completely tuned out his words.
She blinked, “what?”
“Try not to get too distracted, Miss Zoya,” he said with a wink. Then, more seriously, “Now, care to enlighten me on how you got onto my ship?”
“It was docked.”
“It was guarded ,”
She snorted, “not that well.”
He cocked his head to the side, scrutinizing her through the bars. Zoya raised her chin. She was Ravka’s best soldier, the Commander’s best spy. She was Zoya Nazyalensky and she would not cower before a pirate .
But all Sturmhond did was nod, almost to himself, and mutter, “no, I suppose not.”
She got the distinct feeling he didn’t believe her, but he said nothing more, the hint of a frown still lingering on his face.
“Well, I do hope you enjoy your stay aboard the Volkvolny,” he said, grin returning, “the window will provide an excellent view for you until we dock again.”
Shit . Maybe she had been a little too confident about gaining their trust so fast. Sturmhond turned to leave, heading for the stairs the girl had departed from, but Zoya’s time was already limited.
“You’re just going to leave me here?” she called after him, hoping her voice remained steady as her heart began beating rapidly. Sturmhond paused at the base of the steps and turned to her, something she couldn’t quite discern marking his features.
“Tours are reserved for people who don’t sneak onto my ship,” he offered a half-smile, “particularly not ones with lockpicks tucked into their hair.”
Zoya’s eyes widened, her hand flying to her hair, but the two rods of metal she had pushed into her tied hair were missing. She tried to come up with an excuse to explain them, but Sturmhond had already disappeared up the steps, and Zoya was left wondering if she had perhaps underestimated the Captain of the Volkvolny.
 ________________
  Nikolai loved the sea.
He loved everything about it, from the way it glittered under the rays of the sun, to the scent of salt and something distinctly sea-like he couldn't name. He loved the spray of water when he was too close to the edge, the feel of waves beckoning him closer.
"What's that?" 
Genya's voice startled him, and Nikolai looked down at his hand, realizing he'd been twisting the lockpicks in his fingers for some time.
"Just a souvenir," he replied, offering her a grin.
Genya narrowed her eyes at him- he never could lie to her. And he had trouble evading her inquisitive amber eye.
"Where's David gone off to?" he asked instead. His friend sighed deeply, as though her husband was a troubling matter, and busied herself with tucking a few stray red hairs behind her ear.
"Our cabin, he hasn't been anywhere else since you gave him your latest idea to study," she eyed him, frowning, "Lantsov, I think you're destroying my marriage."
Nikolai let out a surprised laugh, "come now, it's not as bad as all that."
"I'll make you share a cabin with David next time," she muttered, "see how comfortable sleeping beside books is."
Nikolai shook his head, eyes returning to the sea. He wasn't fooled by all of Genya's talk, after all, he'd been the one to marry them, on this ship. He hadn't seen two people who understood each other so well before.
His thoughts returned to the girl below decks.
"Has she said anything?" Genya asked, practically reading his mind.
"Nothing of use," Nikolai conceded, closing his fingers around the lockpicks and shrugging. "But she's stuck with us now, so I suppose it'll come out in time."
He gave her a smile and turned to leave, whistling a tune he thought he knew, but perhaps the sound was slightly off-key.
"That's what I'm worried about," Genya said, but her voice was drowned out by the wind.
His cabin was the nicest on the ship, and it had nothing to do with the rows of books or the table laden with maps, or even the large wooden desk he'd had made to fit perfectly in the space.
No, it's charm came from the window, a large wall of glass that gave him a clear view of the sea he loved so dearly. It was the first thing he saw when he entered the room, and he had memorized the way light flooded inside, casting everything in a golden glow. It was directly where his eyes went when he opened the door.
Which is why it was rather hard to miss the young woman perched on his desk, in front of said window, silhouetted against the evening sun.
Nikolai raised a brow, "don't tell me the brigs weren't properly guarded, either?"
She cut him a glare, tossing her dark hair over her shoulder. He couldn't help but think she looked perfect, the last rays of sunlight illuminating her deep brown skin, dark blue eyes watchful, and even in just a simple shirt and trousers, she was stunning.
"No, they were," she said with a shrug, "but you've gone and underestimated me again, Sturmhond, and that's a mistake."
He raised a brow, "duly noted,"
"Good." She nods once, as if affirming this fact. "Now, we need to talk."
Nikolai gave her an amused look. A steady pounding had begun in his left temple and he felt weariness already clawing its way to the surface.
"I believe we tried that, didn't we?" He held up her lockpicks for emphasis, which only made her eyes narrow at him.
" Those are my favorite. But they're not my only pair," she said. "I came here for a reason, Sturmhond."
Nikolai crossed his arms, leaning against the nearest bookshelf. She really was a mystery. And there was something about the way she watched him, intent in her eyes that told him whatever it was she wanted, whatever brought her to his ship, she wouldn't be leaving without it.
"And what might that be?"
She hopped off the desk and he was reminded that though her glare could cripple a man where he stood, Zoya remained rather short. She came to stand in front of him, hardly reaching up to his shoulder. He tried to keep his mind from straying to the way her dark hair fell around her face, the stray locks ridiculously distracting.
"A job."
Nikolai frowned, "what?"
"I need a job," she said simply, "and you're going to give me one on your ship"
He let out a surprised laugh, "you snuck onto my ship to get a job? " 
Zoya did not seem very amused by this. "Yes, obviously. Now, either you let me be part of the crew, or…" she paused, frowning, then clarified, "you don't actually have a choice here."
Nikolai considered her for a moment. Genya clearly had her doubts about Zoya, and he couldn’t be certain why he didn’t. There was something about the way she held everything far enough to inspect, the way her sharp blue eyes had watched him through the bars. It was a look he recognized, though he couldn’t place just yet, one he felt certain he'd worn plenty of times before.
“Alright,” he said finally.
There was a hint of relief in her eyes, almost immediately replaced by suspicion, “alright?” 
“We return to Ravka in two weeks time, and we can't very well throw you to the Sea Whip," he said, shrugging, "you have until then to prove yourself to the crew."
“Oh,” she managed, frowning.
“Realizing a resume would have saved you trouble?” he asked, unable to help the smirk tugging at his lips. “Worry not, Miss Zoya, you’ll find my crew aren’t made up of the purest sailors.”
“Did they all sneak onto the ship as well?” she challenged.
“No, that was a first, admittedly,” he allowed himself a grin, opening the door for her to leave before adding, “but at least you didn’t try to poison me.”
 ________________
  Sturmhond, Captain of the Volkvolny, and self-proclaimed greatest pirate to sail the True Sea did not keep a diary.
Zoya supposed it would have been rather convenient, but her mission wasn't based around convenience. 
And the leather bound journal she'd slipped into the waistband of her pants would have to be enough.
"This will be your cabin- temporarily, anyway," the redheaded girl- Genya?- was saying, "the Captain has a rule about dining together, so dinner is at sundown, everyday."
The girl was beautiful, and Zoya couldn't stop herself from noting that fact. Cascading red hair framing a pale face somehow no less stunning with dozens of cross crossed scars spread across it. An eyepatch embroidered with the design of a fox covered her right eye.
"He doesn't dine alone?" Zoya asked, tearing her gaze away from the girl to look around the cabin. Small, though admittedly much better than her cell. The cot was covered in a thick blanket and there was even a shelf with books, held in place with some twine though they still swayed as the ship rocked, and a chest of what must have been clothes was pushed up against the wall.
"Saints no," said Genya, her amber eye following Zoya as she stepped inside. "Something about bonding amongst the crew mates, wanting us all to feel equal."
Zoya glanced back with surprise, but the girl's face was perfectly serious, the hint of a smile touching her red lips.
"Though between you and me, I think he's just lonely."
The deadliest Captain alive, lonely. Saints, how much of the rumors she'd heard were even true?
She bit her lip against the torrent of questions, reminding herself that her mission remained unchanged. And this was merely a single step closer to where she needed to be.
"I'll let you settle in," Genya said, snapping Zoya back to the present. She clapped her hands together once in finality before adding, "oh, and there are some extra clothes in the chest, you're a bit shorter than me so the pants might need cuffing, but I'm good with a needle if anything else needs adjusting. I'll be in my cabin down the hall if you need me."
And with that, she disappeared again, and Zoya realized she hadn't even thanked the girl. Though she figured thanking someone before delivering them to their doom did not exactly make for good manners.
The sun was already setting, the last rays washing her room in a warm golden light. Zoya let the door shut as quietly as possible, even if she was now a legal member of the crew, precautions still felt necessary. Her mind returned to her talk with the Captain. The look he'd given her almost had Zoya thinking she'd been found out, but then he'd grinned that infuriating grin of his, like all the world could be mended if he just smiled widely enough, and gave her exactly what she wanted.
Focus . 
Zoya shook her head- this damn Captain and his distraction methods. She sat at the edge of the cot, nearly stumbling as the ship rocked beneath her. It would take time to adjust to life aboard a ship.
Not life, just a few weeks, possibly less.
The journal she'd tucked into her pants was small, rectangular and bound in brown leather. Now that she was really looking at it, Zoya noticed a small engraving of the letter 'L' on the front. She traced her thumb over it, frowning. Why 'L' ?
Tucking that mystery away, she began thumbing through the pages of the journal, which was fairly thick and seemed incapable of closing properly, as though all the ideas written inside were just about ready to burst off the page.
Most of them were sketches. She had seen architectural work in Ravka, plans to enhance the military and such- these looked just like that, only messier. The vague shape of a ship with two oval like planes attached to its side and a small note that might've read 'up to thirty meters high' though she couldn't be certain what that meant.
Further in, the drawings only became messier and some of them were just doodles of sea creatures, one of a small fox. They were surprisingly good drawings.
Still further were reminders, mundane things like to remember to restock the flour or a 'Tolya' would otherwise be upset, some book titles she recognized, names of places she'd never been to.
All in all, no plans, information, or even the slightest hint at where the stolen artifact was. It was likely the most useless thing she'd found, and she'd broken into his bloody office for it.
As if on cue, a knock sounded at the door, causing her to leap from her place in a panic.
"Come in," she called, then, realizing the journal was still in her hand, she shoved it under the blanket and crossed her arms as the door opened a crack.
A head poked in, messy brown hair and what might be glasses over the man's eyes, though a hand was firmly pressed over them and she couldn't tell.
"Sorry, er- Zoya, was it? The Captain would like to know if you'll be joining us for dinner?" She imagined he asked this very seriously, but half his face was covered and she couldn't tell.
"Why are you covering your eyes?" She asked, frowning.
"Genya says I have a bad habit of catching people in the wrong state. This is a precaution."
"Precaution?"
"In case you are in a state of undress."
She snorted despite herself, the smallest smile coming onto her face, "do you think I would have allowed you in if I was?"
A pause. 
"Good point." The hand dropped away to reveal, as she'd suspected, a pair of glasses slipping off the man's nose. Brown eyes blinked at her. "Hello. I'm David."
Zoya raised both brows in mild amusement, Saints, is the whole crew mad?
"Hello, David." She said, "I'll come down in a minute."
He nodded once, affirming this fact before disappearing again, the door shutting behind him with a gentle thud. She thought she heard him say it'll be sixty seconds before Zoya could join, and she could only roll her eyes.
This ship, and the people on it, seemed to grow stranger and stranger by the second.
You'd fit right in , her mind whispered, but she silenced it quickly. There was no point to dwelling on a future that would never be. And she had dinner to attend.
Zoya had two weeks to gain the Captain's trust, and less to find the stolen artifact. But the crew did not seem to share her worries, gathered around a table laden with all sorts of foods. Some she recognized instantly as Ravkan- quail roasted in honey, almond cakes dusted with coconut, and pickled herring. But others still were new to her eyes, assorted cookies stuffed with dates and plates of rice with steaming vegetables.
It was a feast made for a king.
A flash of red caught her eye amongst the chaos of people she couldn't remember the names of and crew members who hadn't been in the Commander's file back in Os Alta- Genya, waving her over from the other side of the table, a small smile on her lips, as if she could read Zoya's thoughts.
It was loud when Zoya settled in the empty seat beside the red haired woman, fighting a wince as someone began to sing what might have once been poetry, or a sea shanty, though the words seemed dulled down with drink.
"Zoya! Have you met David, yet?" She greeted, and Zoya noticed for the first time the man beside her, nothing but messy brown hair visible above the book he was reading.
"I have, yes, he's very…" she tried to find the right word to describe the man with, before settling on, "polite."
Genya beamed, "he's my husband!"
That caught Zoya by surprise. A married couple on this ship? All you'll find are a bunch of lawless cutthroats on the miserable plank of wood .
Perhaps Morozova had been misinformed.
The redhead turned to say something to her husband in hushed tones, and Zoya returned to studying the room.
One long table, likely screwed to the floorboards so it didn't topple over as they sailed, with seats running down both sides filled with crew members from varying countries that all seemed relatively the same age. An empty chair sat at the head of the table, and Zoya's gaze lingered there for a moment.
"He's late," she mumbled.
"Fashionably so!" A voice announced, and Zoya jumped out of her seat, immediately reaching for the dagger tucked into her belt, heart thumping in her chest. The Captain's amused hazel eyes followed the movement, and he raised a single brow.
"That," he said, using his fork to indicate the murder weapon she nearly unleashed on him, "is a very rude way to say hello."
Zoya shook her head, trying to calm her breathing, excellent way to earn his trust, Nazyalensky, Morozova's mocking voice echoed in her head, pull a weapon on him at dinner.
"Do not sneak up on me again," she snapped, then realizing she still needed his trust she added, "Captain."
"Noted," he said, a smile touching his lips. His eyes scanned the room for a moment, settling on a large man she recognized as the one who'd been singing. He clapped his hands once, "well, I hope dinner is adequate to your tastes, Miss Zoya. Try not to kill anyone for the night?"
The hint of a smile threatened to spread across her face and she shrugged, "no promises."
Then he was off and she was wondering why a bit of disappointment lingered in his absence.
 ________________
  Nikolai leaned forward over the book David had dropped in front of him, completely ignoring the plates of food surrounding them, and frowned.
"What exactly am I meant to see?" He asked, glancing up at his friend, who's eyes were wide with that near-manic excitement that often resulted in their best work.
"Nikolai the ship !" He urged, tapping his finger against the page hurriedly.
Nikolai's eyes followed his finger, reading the few lines. Something about wind resistance and a Zemini architect who'd remade an old ship with… 
It took a beat for the words to register.
" Saints , David, where did you find this?" The words left him in a rush as Nikolai held up the book and skimmed through a few more lines. If this was true, if the man had succeeded with reinforcing the ship with steel, then perhaps their plan was not so far fetched after all.
"Right there in the book," David said reasonably, then with a small grin, "Genya noticed it."
Bless you both , Nikolai thought, still distracted, his mind running a mile a minute. This perfectly matched the sketch he'd been working on, he realized, reaching for his journal. 
He frowned, patting the pockets of his teal coat. Hadn't he brought it with him? Must have left it in the office.
"Here," he handed David the book, who cradled it like a small child, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. "I'll be back in a moment."
Nikolai headed straight out of the dining room, taking the steps two at a time and landing above-decks with an enthusiastic leap. At some time during the hours they'd spent dining and talking, night had blanketed the seas. Cool air breezed through the ship, rocking it and cooling Nikolai's skin. He inhaled deeply, unable to help the grin coming onto his face. 
If this was what it felt like to sail, what might it be like to fly?
That's when he noticed her, leaning against the railing, just a silhouette against the starry sky, her dark hair melding with the shadows.
Nikolai furrowed his brows, approaching her uncertainly- hadn't she been with Genya?- and the floorboards creaked as he moved, startling her. Zoya whipped her head back, sharp blue eyes finding him in the dark.
"I come in peace," he said, raising both hands to show he was unarmed. She rolled her eyes, returning to her contemplation of the sea.
He needed to be somewhere, didn't he? But the space beside her looked so inviting, and he couldn't help but step closer.
"I've always wanted to see the stars," she admitted, her voice soft.
Nikolai smiled. He understood the feeling. "Maybe if you stay with us, you'll get to see more of them."
She stiffened at his words, and Nikolai instantly felt guilty- what had he said to elicit that response? Saints, maybe he should take Genya's advice and stay silent every once in a while.
"Maybe," she said, her voice still quiet, as though she feared that somewhere among the dark waves and shimmering stars, someone might hear her.
Nikolai tapped his fingers against the rail for a moment, wondering why he felt the need to stay a little longer. She's part of the crew, at least temporarily , he reasoned, and that makes her my responsibility.
He found he didn't mind that very much.
"Is this what you do all day, the infamous Captain Sturmhond?" She asked, surprising him, there was the barest hint of suspicion to her words, "eat, laugh, and drink. Let time pass under the stars."
He laughed, "is that such an awful way to live one's life?"
She cocked her head, looking thoughtful, "perhaps not."
"And what about you, mysterious Zoya with lockpicks and a dagger at the ready," he said, watching the way the light reflected on her dark skin, "how do you spend your days?"
"Besides sneaking onto ships, you mean?" She asked, and Nikolai grinned.
"Besides that,"
"I'm…" she hesitated, then frowned, averting her gaze, "A barmaid. You must have seen me at the tavern."
"I think I'd remember that," he said, earning a sharp glare from her. "What about your family?"
She seemed to withdraw a bit at that, something hardening in her gaze, "all gone."
Nikolai didn't press the matter, "from what I can tell, eating, drinking, and letting time pass under the stars sounds like exactly what you need, Miss Zoya."
And Nikolai needed to leave before his mind convinced him that slipping closer or brushing her hair away from her face was a good idea. He turned away, assuming she wouldn't reply, and headed instead for his office, now that he'd finally remembered what it was he'd come to get.
Still the wind carried to him the last of her words, barely a whisper, and maybe he'd imagined it, "you might be right."
 ________________
  Zoya Nazyalensky had not forgotten her mission. 
It had been four days since she'd snuck aboard the Volkvolny, three since she'd stolen the Captain's journal, and in that time she had almost gotten used to the crew. The sounds of back and forth shouting from above-decks waking her with the first rays of dawn, her routine read-through of the aforementioned journal- to gain more information on the Captain, of course- and the dinners where she could almost believe she was just another sailor lost in the drink and the waves.
But before anything else, Zoya remained a soldier of the Ravkan army, and she knew where her loyalties lay.
And her time was growing more and more limited by the hour. She had to find that artifact.
"Whatever those planks did to you, I'm sure they're sorry now," said a voice. Zoya glanced up from the where she'd been furiously mopping at the floor to find Tamar raising a brow at her.
"It isn't working," she muttered, eyeing her mop with distrust. This was the first time she'd been tasked with cleaning the deck, and it was proving to be more difficult than she'd anticipated.
"Weren't you a barmaid?" Tamar asked, and though she said it good-naturedly, Zoya still froze at the lie, averting her eyes.
"We had different floors."
"Never mind," said Tamar, taking the broom from her and leaning against it. "We can trade roles- see that stack of weapons over there? They need to be sharpened."
Zoya grinned despite herself, her gaze landing on the very same pile of swords and axes she'd had her eye on for days. "Now that I can do."
Zoya waited for someone to ask why she, a supposed barmaid, knew to sharpen and clean a sword better than how to mop, but no one did. There was a strange circle of trust the crew shared, and at some point, she'd been let into it.
She tried to ignore the swell of her heart at the thought. Just a mission .
The sword she'd been cleaning was the last of the bunch, a beautiful short sword studded with blue gems at the hilt, and she'd taken meticulous care cleaning it, until she could see her own blue eyes reflected in it's blade.
She smiled.
The crew were all busy with their own tasks, so Zoya hopped off the barrel she'd sat on, leaving the pile of weapons aside and testing the blade in her hand.
She weighed it in her hand before tightening her grip and thrusting forward at an invisible enemy. And suddenly she wasn't on a ship, she was back in Ravka, with Botkin on the other side, telling her to loosen her grip and spread her legs- keep her touch light and impactful.
Lost in the memory, she swung it around, spinning back and arching it straight into-
Metal clashed against metal and Zoya was flung back into the present as hazel eyes found hers behind the blade of a cutlass.
"Up for a little challenge, Miss Zoya?" He asked, and she realized half the crew had stopped what they were doing to watch.
So much for not bringing attention to herself.
Zoya pulled back, ducking as the Captain's blade swung over her head, and then she was back up, and Botkin's words were fresh in her ears. Always be on the offense. Eyes on the hilt, not the blade .
But the Captain was good, she had to give him that, he had her stumbling back, nearly falling as his cutlass hacked at hers with three smooth curves.
"Not bad, barmaid," he called, a smirk coming onto his lips. But her favorite lesson had been the last she'd learned- let your opponent get cocky.
And it seemed the Captain was already there.
"Captain," said Zoya, gasping as she ducked away from another hit, before coming up full force and thrusting forward, his eyes widening with surprise, "watch your feet."
And then she swung a leg out, catching him at the knees. She couldn't help a smile as the Captain fell back with a grunt, sword clattering away.
Zoya let the tip of her sword- she was already thinking of it as such- find the Captain's jaw, tilting it up so he could catch the full smirk on her face.
"You fight dirty," he said, eyeing her with distrust. 
"Only with pirates," Zoya shrugged, unable to help the self satisfaction brimming in her heart- she had just defeated the Captain of the Volkvolny, and reinforced her barmaid story to the rest of the crew. "It's impossible to defeat me, Captain."
" Improbable ," The twinkle in his eye was the only warning Zoya got before the Captain caught her wrist and pulled her down with him, her sword falling away as he rolled them aside, so her back was pressed against the floor and she could see the smug smile on his face from way too close.
"Nothing's impossible, dear Zoya," he said with a grin. Her eyes followed the movement of his lips around the words, mind growing foggy with him pressed against her. "You'd do well to remember that."
She snapped her gaze back to his and narrowed it, hoping the heat rising in her cheeks was easy to miss. But with the way the Captain's hazel eyes watched her, Zoya doubted it.
And then he was standing again, offering her a hand and grinning, bathed in sunlight and the joy of his latest win. She had never wanted to smack him more.
Zoya settled for ignoring the offered hand and standing on her own, stomping away from the Captain. She couldn't be near him then, not with her heart still hammering in her chest and the heat of his touch still clinging to her.
 ________________
  Nikolai liked trouble. It kept boredom at bay, and made way instead for opportunity.
And opportunity was where Nikolai thrived.
"You can't be serious," Genya's single amber eye watched him warily.
"I try never to be serious, lest people start expecting it of me," Nikolai said mildly, then added, "but in this case, I'm afraid I am."
He'd gathered a few members of his crew inside his office, just the people he trusted most- the twins, as well as Genya and David. And Nikolai himself was surprised when he'd gone to Zoya's cabin and asked her to join them.
Two weeks, and already so infatuated, Captain? Tamar had mocked the day before, following his eyes to where Zoya had been perched on a barrel with Genya, a small smile on her face as the red haired girl relayed a story. Criss crossed lines shadowed her face as sunlight poured through the net's squares, catching her eyes and making them glow dangerously.
Perhaps Tamar wasn't entirely wrong.
"Captain, is there honestly no way around this?" Tamar's foot was tapping restlessly against the floor, her fingers straying to the comfort of her ax's hilt, "the Volkvolny is the fastest ship to sail these waters, we could outrun any threat."
"You can't run on water," Nikolai pointed out. He thought there might be a moral there somewhere, but his mind was too tired to search for it. Sometimes words were just words, nothing deeper.
"No, but you can fly."
Nikolai's gaze snapped up to David's. Their plan had only been traded back and forth between them two, with Genya's advice and occasional assistance. But his friend was pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and blinking very seriously at Nikolai. 
He supposed no secret would last forever.
"What is he talking about?" It was the first time Zoya had spoken since she'd entered the office. Not a word since Nikolai had informed them all that they were being trailed, that a contact of his had given him a warning when they'd docked no more than two hours at a Noyvi Zem harbor- Commander Morozova was on their tail.
Which was odd since Zoya hardly ever kept silent about anything.
He let his gaze slide to her now, leaning quietly against one of the many bookshelves in his office, sharp blue eyes watching him. Assessing .
"Just a little project David and I have been working on," he said, torn between wanting to keep it a surprise, and the urge he seemed to always have around Zoya: to impress. The latter won in the end. 
"To take this ship farther than any sails could reach- to the stars themselves."
Zoya's eyes widened ever so slightly, and he remembered what she told him the first night of her stay, I've always wanted to see the stars .
"But that's impossible,"
" Improbable ," he corrected, punctuating his words with a wink. Then he turned back to the waiting crew and grinned, adrenaline already pumping through his blood- this was a far better plan than the one he'd had before, which is to say, no plan. 
The rational part of his brain was already warning him: They could fail completely. They could get caught, or come down crashing through the waves, but what was life without a little risk?
"Alright then, team," he clapped his hands together once, letting his gaze travel over the five members in his office, the people he trusted with his life, "let's cause some trouble."
Once he'd assigned everyone a task, and given himself a good portion of the work, Nikolai returned to his office, expecting it to be empty.
Once again, Zoya was perched on his desk. She glanced up when he entered, closing the book she'd been reading as he let the door close with a thud. 
"Not a big fan of flying, I take it?" He asked, taking a few steps into the room. Her dark hair fell over her shoulder and Nikolai had the strangest urge to reach out and thread his fingers through it.
"When will we reach Ravka?" She asked instead, sharp eyes finding his. Saints, those eyes, the very color of a raging storm- dark clouds and booming thunder, all encased within.
"Hardly a day," he replied. Had he drawn even closer? His mind said he had, since the line of her jaw was more clearly visible, and his eyes were following the curve of her neck. He snapped his gaze back up, focusing back on the conversation. "Do you intend to leave us once we port?"
He had said it was her choice, hadn't he? Two weeks to prove herself to the crew, and she'd done it in minutes. But if she wished to go back to Ravka, to her job and whatever mystery of a life she led there… 
Zoya pursed her lips and shrugged, "maybe, who knows?"
"Who knows, indeed." He replied. Her eyes were on him, but she wasn't pulling away, and he couldn't help but draw closer, let his hands rest on the table, framing her thighs. He must have gone completely mad, and the scent of wildflowers clouding his senses wasn't helping his scattered thoughts.
"And what about you, Captain?" Zoya's voice, almost soft, making his heart speed in his chest, the barest hint of breath against his jaw. "Will you escape in your flying ship to the stars beyond?"
Only if you come with me , he thinks, but doesn't say. He isn't sure what to say, but his mind returns to thoughts of storms and dangerous waters when he meets her eyes again. He's close enough to feel her rapid breathing, close enough to know that a tilt of her chin would bring their lips together.
"Why is it you never call me Nikolai ?" He muttered, brushing a few dark strands of hair behind her ear, feeling the shudder that went through her at his touch. 
"First names are too personal," she said, and it sounded like an automatic response, memorized lines. Nikolai couldn't help a light chuckle. Saints , she was driving him mad. 
"And what if I wanted it to be personal?"
"Then I'd ask you this, Nikolai ," he swallowed, rather enjoying the sound of it on her lips. But his joy was short lived, because something in Zoya's eyes had shuttered, and there was an item being pressed into his hand, cool and familiar against his skin. "What do those initials stand for?"
He knew what it was before he looked down- his own missing journal, the letter of a name long unused inscribed into its cover. Nikolai sighed, there really was no escaping some things, was there? 
"Let me tell you a story, Miss Zoya," he said, his words quiet, still entrapped in a moment of heat and possibility, "a story about a little boy who loved the sea."
"A little boy with a big title," she filled in. He searched her face for a moment, uncertain what he'd hoped to find, and winding up disappointed.
"Some would say yes," he agreed. "But the sea claims no titles for any man, except perhaps survivor , and that one is earned."
"That's where you're wrong, Captain ." Zoya said, voice laced with steel. She pushed off the desk, forcing him to move away as she crossed the room, putting more distance between them. "Survivor isn't earned, it's given. And hardly anyone receives the same gift twice."
 ________________
  There wasn't very much room to pace in her cabin, but Zoya put every inch to use. The sun was setting, and dread brimmed in her heart as they neared the shores of Ravka.
It all clicked into place.
She hadn't been given any information on the artifact Zoya had been sent to retrieve, only that it was crucial for it to be brought back, and that she would know it once she'd lay eyes on it.
In fact, Zoya had not needed to actually witness the artifact to know what it was- the only thing it could ever have been. The only thing the second Lantsov prince could have possibly stolen.
Something that was his for the taking.
And now Morozova would be waiting for them, and this meant that Zoya had succeeded in her mission, had brought the man and the artifact, double what he'd asked for. So why was there a tightening in her chest at the thought?
Shouts rang out from above, and she knew before she discerned their words what they'd seen.
The Commander and his army awaiting the Volkvolny's crew.
There was some panic aboard, at first. No one had suspected there'd be a troop lining the Os Alta harbor where they'd intended to dock.
No one, save Zoya, of course.
"Saints above, Zoya," Genya whispered furiously, her voice almost choked. "I trusted you."
Zoya didn't dare glance up. It had taken only ten minutes for the crew to realize there was nowhere to run, and then the ship was drifting towards the dock, and the Commander had boarded without much trouble.
At least, none since the crew had been tied to the mast, eight soldiers holding them at gunpoint.
Zoya kept her gaze firmly pointed forward, on the waves that had become her comfort, and would now be nothing but a distraction.
"Painful, is it not?" His cool voice glided over the ship, and even the wind seemed to still at his words. She stiffened automatically, but his focus was on Genya, dark coat dragging on the floorboards as he approached her. "To have trusted someone who turned their back on you."
Zoya frowned. There was a fire burning in Genya's single amber eye, no sign of tears, but a deep anger she had never seen on the girl's face before.
"Don't you just wish," Morozova leaned closer to her, bringing his hand up to motion the caress of her face, not touching her skin. She flinched away. "That you could make her regret it?"
Zoya stilled, as a voice full of venom shouted, "get away from her!"
David?
Morozova let the barest hint of a smile touch his lips, "you could have been my star, my general, Safin. A drop of poison, and this business would have been complete long ago."
At least you didn't try to poison me.
Had Genya been part of the Ravkan army as well? A soldier sent on a mission from which she never returned. Zoya was still frowning when Morozova turned his slate gray eyes on her, whatever hint of a smile was gone now, replaced by his usual, cool expression.
"Where is it?" He asked, straight to the point.
"It's on his person, sir, he never parts with it." An educated guess, but she stated it like a fact. 
Morozova let his chin tilt ever so slightly in what might have been approval, if one squinted. "You'll have all that I promised you, Zoya, and more. General Nazyalensky, no longer a mere soldier."
She straightened her back, heart fluttering just slightly, her beliefs reinstating with a single reminder: this was nothing but a barrier she needed to surpass. 
"And none of it will equal a single night beneath the stars," 
Zoya swallowed, hard. She turned to look at Nikolai as he stepped out of his office, Morozova insisting he come out on his own, wanting the moment of his capture to be special. But his full attention was trained on Zoya.
"Chains wrought of diamonds and gold," he added, almost to himself. "Is that such a great way to live one's life?"
She knew he was parroting her own words, so many nights before, where dreams of laughter and moonlit dinners had seemed almost close enough to touch, and reach out for if she dared.
Zoya forced her expression to remain blank, but Nikolai's eyes were still searching her face when Morozova spoke, "at last he reveals himself. Not yet free of those gold chains if the threat of this crew dying for you didn't delay your supper. Isn't that right, Lantsov?"
She saw his jaw clench at the name, the title he'd taken to the seas to be rid of.
"Now give me what I want, and perhaps I'll spare your life," said Morozova. 
Zoya's eyebrows drew together, he wouldn't kill a prince , would he? But nothing seemed certain now, and when Nikolai made no move to retrieve the artifact, Morozova flicked his wrist and suddenly three rifles were pointed at his heart.
Zoya froze, her eyes going wide- Saints, they were going to kill him. Her mind wasn't functioning right, too many contradicting ideas racing through it. At least that's the excuse she gave herself when she stepped forward.
"Let me," she said, and tried to ignore the snarl Tamar tossed her way, focusing her full attention on Nikolai. 
Even as she approached him, there was no sign of betrayal or surprise in his honey-toned eyes. But something else lay there, almost like hope.
Zoya swallowed, trying not to remember anything of the past few weeks, the nights of laughter and the stories shared under the stars, the way Nikolai smiled as he watched his crew, even when their eyes weren't on him, as though he'd found peace at last. The way he'd leaned close to her in his office, and heat had crackled through the air around them.
"Give it to me, and I promise we'll be gone," she said, though she couldn't ascertain if that was a promise she could make.
"Is this what you want?" He said, his voice wasn't exactly loud, but she still glanced nervously at the Commander. "A life in the palace where you're always second? Where your lifespan is measured by your usefulness?"
Zoya averted her gaze, unable to look directly at the intensity in his eyes, the need he had for her to understand. 
"Nikolai," she said quietly, and was rewarded with a quick inhale. Never use the victim's first names, never make it personal. "Just give it to me, then you won't ever have to see me again, I swear it."
He huffed a laugh, and before Zoya could protest, he had caught her hand. She frowned as Nikolai curled her fingers around something small and cool, covering the item with a well-mannered kiss to her knuckles. 
"To letting time pass under the stars," he said softly.
It sounded like goodbye. 
There was a lump in her throat when next she tried to speak, and she tried to shake away the feeling as Nikolai set her hand down, brushing his fingers across her knuckles one last time, his kiss leaving a mark that burned through her skin.
"Do you have it?" The Commander almost sounded bored, and still Zoya couldn't tear her gaze away from Nikolai, trying to memorize the way his golden hair fell into his eyes, the barest hint of a smile always curving his lips. 
"Yes-" the word had barely left her mouth when the shot rang out. Hazel eyes went wide, someone shouted in the distance, and then chaos broke loose on the deck of the Volkvolny.
 ________________
  Nikolai was nearly certain he was trudging through thick snow during Ravka's worst winter, with the addition of his foggy thoughts and dizzy mind that made him question his sobriety.
And there was something else, the feeling of a thousand burning spikes being pressed into his abdomen at the same time, a wetness that might have been the melting snow or his imagination. His thoughts seemed held at bay by the voices, the voices that never spoke to him, only about him.
"Keep pressure on the wound,"
"Give him another dose,"
"Where's the Captain?"
He tried to speak to them, multiple times, even, but when he did the spikes thrust more deeply into his skin, and he could make out the blurry shapes of what might have been heads looking down at him.
Perhaps these were the Saints, and they wished to help him out.
"Give him double," said the saint with eyes like raging storms, and then the snow beneath him fell away, and buried Nikolai beneath layers and layers of white.
A soft sobbing was what woke Nikolai the second time, or perhaps it was the third, and the second was reserved for the time red hair caught in his parted lips and he woke to find Genya pressing something over his body. It's possible that was only a dream. 
"I'm so, so sorry," the voice said softly, and Nikolai tried to smile, his eyelids too heavy to pull open, the black oblivion standing at bay, ready to pull him under once more.
But he recognized the voice, and he could not leave her alone.
Pain erupted in his side at the very thought of him moving and Nikolai had to stifle a gasp. She stilled beside him, he heard a sharp inhale followed by a sniffle.
On all the Saints , he thought irritably. Why did his thoughts refuse to leave his lips? Why did his tongue feel like dry clay, heavy in the confines of his mouth?
He tried to reach for her with his mind, to whisper soothing words like it'll be alright, and, I never stay dead for too long.
The thoughts might not have translated into words, but they found their way to her through the curl of his fingers around her own.
And this time, Nikolai knew it wasn't a dream, because her hand was warm when she laced their fingers together, and the whisper of his name was the last thing he heard before he was sucked back into oblivion.
The first or the tenth time Nikolai awoke- dreams melded with reality and what he guessed was a very strong tonic of Genya's, and he couldn't ascertain- he was alone.
This time, his eyes were completely open, and his gaze traveled around the room as he tried to remember where he was.
It looked like his cabin, but not quite. In fact, he couldn't be certain it was a room aboard the Volkvolny at all, but the gentle rocking was the same, wasn't it?
Nikolai frowned, raising himself up into a sitting post and wincing as pain lanced through his body. He could just make out the golden hues leading to an evening sun, and beneath that-
He gasped in surprise, and then again in pain when he realized why the ship wasn't rocking at all.
They were in midair.
Nikolai considered how appropriate it was for a Captain to appear before his crew shirtless before grabbing his teal coat where someone had left it draped over a chair and closing it around his bandaged wound.
When he stepped out of his cabin, everything was slightly different. His mind couldn't quite focus on that fact, and latched instead onto the idea that the ship was empty.
Almost empty.
Nikolai was limping too much for stealth to have been an option, though he suspected Zoya had sensed he was awake, or at least heard the thud of him falling off the cot, and assumed as much.
She didn't glance back as he approached, silhouetted against the golden lit clouds as wind tore through the sails of the ship. Nikolai couldn't be certain what was more likely a figment of his imagination, the fact that they were flying, or the fact that Zoya was here.
"You knew," it wasn't a question, but a stated fact. He didn't deny it.
"How?" Zoya asked, still not looking at him, eyes trained on something past the clouds and the sun and the skies.
Nikolai contemplated how to respond before finally beginning with, "you know what happened to Genya, yes?"
Zoya's brows furrowed and she nodded ever so slightly, "she was meant to kill you."
Nikolai canted his head in confirmation, "you have your Commander to thank for that. She was once his most trusted advisor, and the minute she had doubts it was fire and hell." 
She flinched, then asked more quietly, "if you knew, then why let me onto the ship at all? Why not kill me right away?"
Nikolai sighed, letting his gaze travel across the impossible, which had at some point become his reality, "my crew are not angels, miss Nazyalensky. They did not sweep down from heaven on flourished wings with hearts as pure as the sea. We all have our secrets, our guilts."
Me, especially, he thought but held back from saying. He let his gaze land on her, dark hair caught in the wind, blue eyes watchful as ever. 
"When I saw you that night, I couldn't help but think that you looked like us. The same hunger in your eyes, the same clever workings in your brain. You looked like you belong here." he said, and finally she looked at him, and he wasn't sure if the pain he felt was due to  his wound or the slap that came with seeing Zoya and knowing that she could see him, too. He swallowed, letting his fingers come up to caress her face.
"You still do," he added quietly. She leaned ever so slightly into his touch, and a flash of a memory returned to him, a warm hand in his.
Nikolai's gaze dropped to her lips despite himself, but before he could move Zoya had lifted herself onto her tiptoes and fit her mouth to his.
Fire sparked against his skin, and then her fingers were fisting in the material of his coat, pulling him closer as their mouths crashed against each other, her lips parting under his. Whatever pain there was once evaporated and all Nikolai could think of was Zoya, the woman who had tipped his reality on its head.
Time seemed to slow around them until his lungs begged for air and he had to pull away, his breathing still as ragged and heavy as her own. He let his forehead press against hers, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear as the storm in her eyes seemed to calm, if only temporarily.
"There's something you should know," Zoya said after a moment, still close enough that her words brushed against his jaw.
"And what might that be?" Nikolai responded, still a little dazed.
"We aren't aboard the Volkvolny."
He frowned, pulling away long enough to assess the ship. He'd known something was wrong, but now he could pinpoint it. The decks were fresh, they hadn't even creaked when he'd approached, and the wood was a darker color, the ship wider.
"Where are we, then? And where's my crew?" He asked, confused.
Zoya gave him a brilliant smile, "I think you mean my crew, who are downstairs dining. Welcome aboard the Stormwitch , Lantsov, the fastest ship on the True Sea ever since the Volkvolny was was blown to shreds at the Os Alta harbor."
Nikolai's eyes went wide, "but that means…"
Zoya smirked, the same smirk she'd given him when she'd beaten him all those days ago, the tip of her sword under his chin. It was a look he knew meant trouble.
"Captain Nazyalensky, pleased to meet you," she held out her hand mockingly, "and don't worry, you are allowed to join my crew."
Nikolai raised an amused brow, pulling her by the offered hand and catching her at the waist. Her snark remained in place even as his lips grazed her jaw, letting his words brush the shell of her ear. "Is that so?"
He felt the tremor go through her as Zoya met his eyes in challenge.
"Of course," she said, "if you can prove yourself within two weeks."
Nikolai couldn't stop the grin that spread on his face, and he didn't think the sense of happiness in his chest would go away even when the sun had set and darkness blanketed the skies.
"Oh," Zoya added, reaching for something in her coat. Her fingers uncurled around something small and green, something any person in Ravka would recognize instantly as the Lantsov emerald. 
"This is yours," she said, offering it up to him. 
Nikolai eyed it thoughtfully. Perhaps he'd been wrong to cut ties with the Lantsov name so quickly, and perhaps Morozova had been right about his lack of success in doing so. Captain Sturmhond had burned with the ship that carried his legacy, and Nikolai Lantsov had come to take the reins.
Which meant the ring was his, along with the names, the title, and whatever privileges he chose to claim.
Nikolai smiled, curling Zoya's fingers around it once more and pressing a kiss to her closed knuckles.
"Keep it, as a gift," he said softly, then with a wink, he added, "Captain ."
Zoya rolled her eyes, even as her arms came to settle around his neck and he caught the barest hint of a smile marking her features. 
And he couldn't help but think they'd both been wrong. There was more to life than laughing, drinking, and letting time pass under the stars. 
There was this.
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x-fern-weh-x · 3 years
Text
my favorite grishaverse quotes - part three: nikolai duology
"Zoya of the lost city. Zoya of the garden. Zoya bleeding in the snow. You are strong enough to survive the fall." (King of Scars)
"This is what love does. In the stories, love healed your wounds, fixed what was broken, allowed you to go on. But love wasn’t a spell, some kind of benediction to be whispered, a balm or a cure-all. It was a single, fragile thread, which grew stronger through connection, through shared hardship and trust." (Rule of Wolves)
"Most of us can hide our greatest hurts and longings. It’s how we survive each day. We pretend the pain isn’t there, that we are made of scars instead of wounds." (King of Scars)
"'Get a message to the Crow Club,' she said. 'Tell Kaz Brekker the queen of Ravka has a job for him.'" (Rule of Wolves)
"Do that thing you do where you use too many words to say something simple and confuse the issue." (King of Scars)
"'I’m not supposed to let you in,' Jesper said. Brekker seemed unperturbed. 'Why not?' 'Because every time I do, you ask me to break the law.' A voice from behind Jesper said, 'The problem isn’t that he asks, it’s that you always say yes.'" (Rule of Wolves)
"'Say something spiteful.' "'Why?' she asked faintly. "'Because I’m fairly certain I'm hallucinating and in my dreams you're much nicer.'" (King of Scars)
"Because I am greedy for the sight of you. Because the prospect of facing this war, this loss, without you fills me with fear. Because I find I don’t want to fight for a future if I can’t find a way to make a future with you." (Rule of Wolves)
"It's not exciting if nothing can go wrong." (King of Scars)
"I would choose you, Zoya. As my general, as my friend, as my bride. I would give you a sapphire the size of an acorn. And all I would ask in return is that you wear this damnable ribbon in your hair on our wedding day." (Rule of Wolves)
"Everyone mourns the first blossom. Who will grieve the rest who fall?" (King of Scars)
"'I have to bathe. I smell like a forest fire.' 'You smell like wildflowers. You always do. What can I say to make you stay?' His words trailed off into a drowsy mumble as he fell back asleep. 'Tell me it’s more than war and worry that makes you speak those words. Tell me what they would mean if you weren’t a king and I weren’t a soldier.'" (Rule of Wolves)
"Remember who you are. Nikolai knew. He was a king who had only begun to make mistakes. He was a solider for whom the war would never be over. He was a bastard left alone in the woods. And he was not afraid to die this day." (King of Scars)
"Maybe the gift of being human is that we do not give up- even when all hope is lost." (Rule of Wolves)
"They would build a new world together. But first they had to burn the old one down." (King of Scars)
"The world might crumble, but Nikolai Lantsov would be holding up the ceiling with one hand and plucking a speck of dirt from his lapel with the other when it all went to ruin." (Rule of Wolves)
"'Yuri Veneden, if you upset my wife again, I will kill you where you stand.' The monk swallowed. 'Yes, moi soverenyi.' 'Oh, David,' Genya said, taking his hand. 'You've never theatened to murder anyone for me before.'" (King of Scars)
"Go home and tell them what you've seen, Nikolai thought as the demon soared through the night. Make them believe you. Tell them the demon king rules Ravka now and vengeance is coming." (Rule of Wolves)
"She wished she had Inej’s gift for spywork or Kaz’s gift for scheming, but she only seemed to have Jesper’s gift for bad decisions." (King of Scars)
"Let the hounds give chase. I do not fear death, because I command it." (Rule of Wolves)
"'Will you be taking up juggling as well?' 'Don't be ridiculous,' Nikolai replied. 'I already know how to juggle. Literally and figuratively.'" (King of Scars)
"'This is a bad idea,' moped Adrik. 'I have a surplus of bad ideas,' said Nikolai. 'I have to spend them somewhere.'" (Rule of Wolves)
"He would not find another excuse to get her talking again. He would not tell her he was afraid to be left alone with the thing he might become, and he would not ask her to leave the lamp burning, a child's bit of magic to ward off the dark. But he was relieved when she did it anyway.” (King of Scars)
"The Darkling's gray eyes studied Mal with more interest than he'd ever shown before. 'I understand we're blood related.' Mal shrugged. 'We all have relatives we don't like.'" (Rule of Wolves)
"Zoya's company was like strong drink. Bracing--and best to abstain if you couldn't handle the kick.” (King of Scars)
"'Don't get ahead of yourself,' Zoya said. 'Nikolai hasn't asked.' 'Can you blame him?' Genya said. 'He hasn't had much luck with proposals.' Alina snorted. 'Maybe he should have offered me a dynasty and not a piddly little emerald.'" (Rule of Wolves)
"'Hand me that brandy,' said Zoya. 'I can’t tolerate this degree of stupidity on a clear head.'" (King of Scars)
"'Is it the shadow inside you that makes you brave?' 'I should hope not. I was making bad decisions long before that thing showed up.'" (Rule of Wolves)
"'That squash is as wide as I am tall,' Nikolai said beneath his breath as he smiled and waved. 'And twice as handsome.' 'Half as handsome,' he protested. 'Ah,' said Zoya, 'but the squash doesn't talk.'" (King of Scars)
"I'll tell you a thousand stories, my love. We'll write the new endings, one by one." (Rule of Wolves)
"After all this time, she still had not found an end to her grief. It was a dark well, an echoing place into which she’d once cast a stone, sure that it would strike bottom and she would stop hurting. Instead, it just kept falling. She forgot about the stone, forgot about the well, sometimes for days or even weeks at a time. Then she would think Liliyana’s name, or her eye would pause on the little boat painted on her bedroom wall, its two-starred flag frozen in the wind. She’d sit down to write a letter and realize she had no one to write to, and the quiet that surrounded her became the silence of the well, of the stone still falling." (King of Scars)
"I would make you my queen because I want you. I want you all the time." (Rule of Wolves)
"'Eat, Your Highness.' 'Everything tastes like doom,' he whispered. 'Then add salt.'" (King of Scars)
"Ravka made me a soldier. Ketterdam made me a spy. Hanne can help me become something else entirely." (King of Scars)
"'You do realize you just referred to yourself as the queen. That means you agreed.' 'I am going to kill you.' 'So long as you kiss me again before you do.'" (Rule of Wolves)
"'I'm fairly sure you're trying to frighten me,' said Nikolai, reaching out a finger to touch the tip of the thorn. 'I'm not sure why, but may I suggest a spider wearing a suit?' 'Why a suit?' asked Zoya, frowning. 'Why not just a spider?' 'Where did he get the suit? How did he fasten the buttons? Why does he feel the need to dress for the occasion?'" (King of Scars)
"'Your heart is in your eyes, Your Highness,' murmured Tamar, wiping the sweat from her brow. Tolya poled his twin in the arm with a sparring sword. 'Tamar knows because that's the way she looks at her wife' 'I am free to look at my wife any way I please.'" (Rule of Wolves)
"In Nikolai's experience, honesty was much like herbal tea - something well-meaning people recommended when they were out of better options." (King of Scars)
"We would go on, you and I. If I couldn't be queen, you would find a way to win this battle and save this country. You would make a sheltering place for my people. You would march an bleed and crack terrible jokes until you had done all you said you would. I suppose that's why I love you." (Rule of Wolves)
"'I think fatigue suits you, Zoya. The pallor. The shadows beneath your eyes. You look like a heroine in a novel.' 'I look like a woman about to step on your foot.' 'Now, now. You're managing remarkably well. And the smiling hasn't killed you yet.' 'Yet.'" (King of Scars)
"'Why does it matter?' asked Nikolai. 'Because unlike Kaz, I have a conscience.' 'I have a conscience,' said Kaz. 'It just knows when to keep its mouth shut.' Jesper snorted. 'If you have a conscience, it’s gagged and tied to a chair somewhere.'" (Rule of Wolves)
"So you know the best way to find Grisha who don't want to be found? Look for miracles and listen to bedtime stories." (King of Scars)
"'Of course it won’t last,' said Zoya. 'What does?' 'True love?' suggested Tamar. 'Great art?' said Tolya. 'A proper grudge,' replied Zoya" (Rule of Wolves)
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pippims · 3 years
Text
but the memories come home
1326 words, very soft and fluffy zoyalina! written for grishaverse sapphic saturdays week 1
Zoya isn't sentimental. But she can't stop staring at Alina under the moonlight and thinking about how much she's missed her. Or; post-canon, Zoya sneaks to Kermazin to visit Alina and Mal.
[ao3]
Zoya had always aligned herself with the moon than the sun. Maybe that was a remnant of the Darkling’s influence, or maybe it was the result of spending nights curled up in a thin wedding gown and staring up at the moon because it was so cold that she felt she’d never sleep. Either way, she’d always thought there was something magical about the full moon.
And this full moon was particularly potent.
There’s an early-fall chill in the air, enough to deepen the boozy tinge on Alina’s cheeks but not enough to be uncomfortable. Around them, frogs and insects scream a bizarre background melody, but after being holed up in the Grand Palace for weeks Zoya finds it vaguely comforting. A reminder of … not better days, not by any mean, but simpler days. She isn’t sure what, but there’s something soothing about laying on her back, staring up at the moon, mind drifting but not lingering on any one thought.
“Sometimes if I need to get away I come out here,” Alina says. Her eyes are closed and her arm is draped over her chest, almost as if she’s asleep. “I like to look at the stars and try to identify them, see if I can find the same ones. I can’t, but I’m still trying.”
It was Zoya’s first visit since Alina’s death. Genya had tailored her to look enough like herself to be familiar, but unlike herself enough that any normal person wouldn’t see Zoya Nazyalensky.   They’d been writing letters, but somehow it just wasn’t enough. Maybe it was the energy from the war that had never quite dissipated, or maybe Zoya just missed her. Either way, she’d decided to go against Nikolai’s wishes and sneak a covert visit.
The three of them had had a very pleasant dinner, for the most part - Mal was really trying to learn how to cook anything fancier than roasted meat, and had done his best to prepare some sort of stuffed rabbit dish with various greens. He hadn’t realized that the recipe book he’d purchased from an elderly woman was ancient, smudged, and half written in Fjerdan. The result was a meal that was somehow both too bland and filled with too many contrasting flavors, but at least the meat was cooked well. But they’d washed it down with lots of laughs and lots of the champagne that Zoya had brought, and then her and Alina had wandered into the woods for some quiet time.
Alina turns her head to look at Zoya, who looks over at her in turn. “How’s the future of Ravka?”
“A dumbass,” she replies, and Alina laughs, the sound echoing off of the trees around them. “Doing his best, but a dumbass.” She neglects to mention the lingering curses. There’s no need to worry her, not after everything she’d gone through. She was dead and free of the Darkling. Besides, this was a friendly visit. Serious business could wait. “How’s retirement?”
Alina snorts. “Quiet. I’ve started drawing, but I’m terrible. I tried to make some bread yesterday, but it didn’t rise. Ended up feeding it to the birds.”
She looks happier  , Zoya thinks. She’s radiant, and not just from the champagne, and not in the frightening way she’d been when using her powers. She looks like a girl, a bit tired, but glowing against the moonlight. Or maybe glowing  from  the moonlight?  She looks just as good in the moonlight as she does in the sunlght , she thinks, but then banishes the thought. “And your retirement partner?”
She doesn’t respond immediately, and instead she turns her head back to the sky. Her eyes drift shut again, and Zoya can’t help but stare at the way the wind slightly ruffles her white hair as it’s fanned out against the grass. Eventually, Alina says, “I don’t know. It’s weird?”
“Weird?” Zoya pulls herself up onto her elbow, brow furrowed. “Is he being weird? Is it a man thing?”
Alina shakes her head. “No, no, not at all. I don’t know. We tried the romance thing, and it was nice, but it was weird. Like I love him, and I know that, and he knows that, but it just didn’t feel right. I think… Hear me out, but I think it was like what it would feel like to kiss my brother, you know?”
Zoya wrinkles her nose. “Ew.”
“You don’t need to tell me that!”
Zoya opens her mouth to respond, but she feels something small and damp hit her cheek get into her mouth. She spits into her hand what tastes like... grass? “Hey!” She rips up a handful and throws it at Alina, who throws more at her in turn. Alina rolls away, but Zoya summons a small gust of wind to target a burst of grass to Alina’s neck. They carry on, throwing and running around the clearing until Alina slips in a small patch of mud, landing sprawled out on her back.
By the time they’re done, they’re laughing hard enough that their ribs hurt, and Alina’s white hair is flecked with green. “I think I needed that,” Zoya confesses, and she certainly feels lighter than she has since the war began.
“I think I did too,” Alina says, and the smile lingers on her face. “I’m trying to relax, but I don’t know what to do all of the time? My time has never just been my own.”
“Some of us have real problems, and you’re complaining that you’re  bored  after  saving the world ?” Zoya says with a grin, and that gets another chuckle from Alina. “You’re always welcome to help me wrangle the royal nuisance.”
“And spend time with you?  Never ,” she responds, then reaches to brush a strand of grass out of Zoya’s hair. Her hand hesitates, just briefly, inches from Zoya’s ear, but she continues the motion. “No, but I think I want this. I miss you though.”
“I miss you too,” Zoya says, “And I…”  Say it, Nazyalensky,  she thinks,  You’ve never had a hard time voicing your thoughts before . But this is different. It’s not a random Second Army boy or girl that she found attractive and, because she was Zoya Nazyalensky, they’d kiss her back because she was the best and brightest. It’s Alina, Sun Summoner, someone she was horrible to but who eventually forgave her, one of her closest friends. And she’s been staring at her lips all night, and suddenly she’s a little bit too tipsy on laughter and champagne, and her heart feels like it’s about to burst from her chest. “And I kind of want to kiss you?”
Alina’s eyes flutter, and she fingers the seam of her skirt. For a moment Zoya thinks she’s steeling herself to say no, or to run, but then she turns her head to the side and captures her lips.
Kissing Alina feels like summoning a massive storm, the energy from the lightning running straight through her. Her lips are dry and her breath smells of old champagne, but Zoya is electrified. It’s never felt like this before, not when she’d kissed Genya once while very drunk, not when she’d kissed Mal, not when the Darkling had said he was proud of her and kissed her. She’s never felt so excited and yet at ease. As if she’s  home , a concept she hasn’t considered for years, laying on her back in a clearing and kissing a saint. When she pulls away, Alina’s eyes are half-closed and that small smile remains on her lips.
“We should go back before Mal thinks a hunter mistook us for deer,” she says, hefting herself off of the ground with some difficulty, brushing the worst of the mud off of her skirt. When she gets to her feet, she turns to Zoya, offers a hand, and says, “And we should do that again sometime.”
Zoya stands, kisses her forehead, and they walk together hand-in-hand under the moonlight.
( @wafflesandkruge ; @grishatober )
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junie-bugg · 4 years
Text
The Heartrender - Chapter One: Ashes
Hey everyone! Here’s my latest Enemies to Lovers Everlark fic. It’s a fantasy AU inspired by Leigh Bardugo’s Six of Crows duology, more specifically Nina Zenik and Matthias Helvar. You don’t need to have read Six of Crows to understand this story since I took ideas from Bardugo’s world and then made it my own. It doesn’t take place in the Grishaverse but is heavily influenced by it. I came up with countries, parts of a new language, and backstories for my witch!Katniss and witch-hunter!Peeta. 
All four chapters have been written and I plan on uploading every Friday:)
You can read here on Tumblr or here on AO3.
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Rating: Explicit
Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Sexual Content
Relationship: Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark
Tags: Enemies to Lovers, witch!Katniss, witch-hunter!Peeta, AU - Shipwrecked, AU - Fantasy, Sexual Tension, Explicit Sexual Content, Furs and Fires, Angst and Fluff and Smut, sexually experienced Katniss, virgin Peeta, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Loss of Virginity, Laughter During Sex, Blood and Injury, Imprisonment, Peeta has some prejudices to work out, Peeta also has an accent, Inspired by Six of Crows
Summary: 
He hated her. He hated her for what she was: an abomination, a demon sent to tear at the fabric of the natural world. He hated her for making him want to laugh. He hated her for being so brazen and sensuous and everything the women of his country were never allowed to be. But mostly he hated her because he realized he didn’t hate her. Not even a little bit.
After a shipwreck has left an abducted witch and a member of the ominous Order bent on wiping out her kind stranded on the icy shores of an uninhabited land, the two must work together to survive or face tearing each other apart in the process.
Chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04
Chapter One: Ashes
Peeta had imagined his death many times. A slit throat or an ax in the chest. Perhaps run through with a sword and thrown from a cliff. A warrior’s death, a man’s death, as was expected of him in his service to Sjorkden. Never did he think he’d pass bloodlessly and without a foe to fight. Yet here he was.
Drowning.
The frigid water wrapped around his body like a salt casing, water-logging his shoes and pulling at the cloth of his uniform. He imagined clammy hands latching onto his limbs, dragging him down, down, down. In the harrowing moments before he ran out of air, he watched dreamy streams of moonlight filter towards the black bottoming out of oblivion that was the ocean floor. Below him gaped miles and miles of seawater, and he would be lost to it.
He prepared himself for what was to come, slowly counting down the seconds to when he would snort salt water into his lungs and end it. No use in prolonging the inevitable, though his dreams lay like air pockets in his stomach, lifting him to hope there was still time for him to change things. To achieve something with the life he would have had if not for this stroke of bad luck.
Water pressed at his lips like an unwelcome guest. He was truly out of air now and the suffocating vacuum in his chest was enough to burst him apart from the inside out. The tips of his fingers began to tingle painfully, oxygen deprivation or the effects of cold, he couldn’t tell.
His last thoughts before he lost consciousness were of the countdown to drowning himself.
Three… two…
And then nothing.
X
Peeta awoke to an embrace. Thin arms twined about his ribcage, hoisting him above the frothy crests of waves.
His people believed in Gratka, the valley of heaven, the holy place of worshippers, warriors, and the most pious of women. A divine world spun from light and cloud, flowing with rivers of honey wine and heavy with the scent of eternal orchards. Peeta was not sure if he had been worthy of Gratka, but surely the chasms of hell would have been hotter than this.
He jerked his head about, trying to get his bearings back. His lips dripped with saltwater and his lungs burned with every ragged inhale.
He and his companion were bobbing on the frigid waves. The sky wheeling above was full of black, ominous storm clouds and the ship, The Bloody Rose, was on fire.
He hadn’t meant to, but he must have let out a cry because suddenly the arms tightened around him and a pair of lips pressed against his ear.
“You can’t save them. Just help me swim.” Then a strangled grunt and a: “Gods, you’re heavy. What do they feed you? Horses?” The words were choked, spoken in the voice of someone who had swallowed too much seawater and was struggling against the current. She spoke in Krellian, a sharp language of hissing consonants and hard breaks, only punctuated by the occasional swooping vowel. He twisted to face her, his lip curling in disgust when he saw those flashing silver eyes.
The witch.
How had she gotten out of her cell?
Her eyes bulged in panic as he kicked away, ripping himself from the circle of her arms.
“No!” she screamed as she grabbed at him, but without her there to buoy him, his head quickly slipped beneath the waves once more. His arms felt sluggish and he realized with a paralyzing rush of cold that she had been keeping his blood warm with her magic.
He struggled to break the surface, coughing up a mouthful of seawater and thrashing about as he tried to find her once more in the dark. “Witch?” he sputtered, ashamed of the sharp edge of fear in his voice. They reached out for one another, barely holding on by their fingertips as a wave crashed overhead, but then it passed and they were righted once more. He didn’t try to get away this time, afraid of his dipping heart rate and the hazy rush of dizziness that quickly abated with her touch. He didn’t feel warm, but the numb ache in his limbs lessened. He pulled her to his chest, locking her body within his arms like a vice.
“We can make it to shore, but I need you to kick. I can’t swim and keep both our hearts beating.”
He blinked the water from his stinging eyes, already exhausted.
She pressed the back of her head into his shoulder in frustration. “Jųlaik, ” she begged.
Please.
He grunted in reply and then started swimming. In return, she kept their hearts beating despite the cold. They weren’t sure which way the shore was. For all they knew, Peeta could be bringing them further out to sea, but with every passing minute the blazing ship they’d escaped from grew smaller and smaller until it collapsed in on itself, a charred heap dipping below the waves.
Not only had Peeta’s brothers in arms been on that ship, but Peeta’s future had been on that ship. Seventeen witches, four of which he had captured and that he could claim, all dead, except for one.
In his service as a witcher, he had brought forty-six witches to court and he had witnessed them all, his bounties, burn at the stake. The sweet stink of smoke and the way that charred flesh falls away from bone were all too familiar. This was his country’s way. This was justice. Four more would have won him his freedom, his manhood, his honor. Four more witches and he would have held the world in his palm like a flowering bud ready for plucking. All the blood and sweat and sleepless nights spent scouring the wastelands of countries far from home would have been worth it.
Hours passed. The storm clouds released their last torrents of icy rain and then cleared to reveal a bright purple smattering of stars above, carving their ancient celestial paths across the sky. The only sounds were his labored breathing and the sloshing of waves. Peeta’s legs felt as if they were going to fall off, both burning from the physical exertion and freezing in the arctic water. His nerves didn’t know what sensation to succumb to, retreating into numbness. He felt as if he were kicking around two logs.
The witch hadn’t spoken since the ship disappeared, but Peeta could tell by the way she was gritting her teeth that it was taking everything in her to keep them from freezing to death. He almost laughed at the irony of the situation. The witch and the witch hunter. Not a pair destined for groundbreaking teamwork.
So why had she saved him?
Dawn peeked over the horizon, pulling it’s smoldering pinks and oranges upwards until the stars faded and the moon was just a paling ghost of its nighttime brilliance.
“There,” the witch whispered through chattering teeth, her voice weak with exhaustion. Peeta turned his head to see what she had gestured to.
A coastline with tall cliffs crusted in ice and snow, and there at the shore, a black stretch of beach. Peeta swam on against the surf, the waves pushing them back out as if the ocean wasn’t quite ready to let them go. Finally, Peeta touched bottom and they crawled to land, collapsing on the sand with water lapping at their ankles. The two were heaving and freezing and giddy with the fact that they were alive, against all odds they had survived, though the silent celebration didn’t last long. The air was bitter and their wet skin puckered beneath its needle-sharp caress. They needed to find shelter, and fast, or the witch’s magic wouldn’t be enough to keep them alive.
Movement was hard. Peeta’s body felt as stiff as a piece of plywood and each attempt to stand left him trembling under his own weight. He looked back at the witch lying prone in the sand. Her hair was a tangled mess and clung to her face in dark, wet clumps. He almost thought she wouldn’t make it, that she’d just stay collapsed and never get up again. But she managed to rise onto her hands and knees, and then slowly to her feet.
They didn’t talk as they climbed a narrow pass up the cliffside. The rock was black and smooth, flowing magma that had cooled, dotted here and there with the greenish-brown blooms of lichen. Perhaps the land had once been volcanic, but that must have been a very long time ago.
As they reached the top of the cliffside, they found themselves marooned in a land of winter. Sharp white mountains jutted up in the misty distance and the foothills that spread out before them were dotted with boulders and stretches of snow and the shrubby, paling vegetation that hinted at a short growing season. It was a harsh land where only the most adaptable species could survive, and Peeta knew if they didn’t find a cave or some sort of outcropping to huddle in soon, they’d be done for.
Luckily, they stumbled across a cluster of circular lodges at the top of the cliff. The witch, shuddering so violently Peeta almost thought she could be seizing, disappeared past the thick curtain that acted as a door, shuddered one final time, and then collapsed onto a pile of discarded furs.
Peeta limped inside and scanned the den. It had been constructed and then abandoned by a whaling expedition, which were common this far north, though whaling was only done in the spring. The walls were layers of tanned animal skin and were held up by thin ashwood beams running from floor to curved ceiling. They looked like the bones of a rib cage bleached chalk-white in the sun. A thick column stood sentinel at the structure’s center so the roof wouldn’t sag and beneath it lay a small fire pit with a few half charred logs. The lodge was designed to house upwards of fifteen people, whalers with thick cloaks and packs full of food and supplies, but now just sheltered two shivering, salt-crusted water rats with nothing. The whole place smelled of wet fur and welcomed Peeta with open, shadowy arms.
“We should start a fire,” Peeta croaked, his throat ravaged by salt and exertion. He nudged the witch with the toe of his boot when she didn’t respond. “Are you dead?” A part of him wanted her to be. He hated owing her for his life, a debt he knew he would have to repay before this horrible nightmare was over. But if the swim had killed her, he wouldn’t have felt a shred of guilt.
As he circled around he saw that she was in fact very alive. Her eyes were propped open, wide and glassy, as if she didn’t have eyelids, shot through with red where there should have been white. She was chanting he realized. Praying perhaps.
It scared him.
“Hey!” He kicked her shoulder and the witch’s eyes cleared as if they were rising above a cloud line. “Stop that, it’s freaking me out.”
She glared up at him. “Never disrupt me again.”
“Why?" he sneered. "So you can curse me? Blind me or make me impotent? Cast a horrible death upon me and all my descendants?” Witches were known for curses. Pregnant women whose unborn babes had offered strong kicks days before, born bright blue and as limp as dead worms. Men cursed to wander the forests until they clawed out their own eyes and died of blood loss. Children swallowed up by thick mountain mists, never to be seen again. Death. Woe. Suffering. All at the hands of a wretched few.
“I have not cursed you. Your allegiance to a false god has done that.”
“And yet, we’re in the same predicament. Seems your gods have doomed you as well.”
This struck a nerve. Perhaps the same thought had been pressing on her mind. She narrowed her eyes, bunching her fists in the fur she lay atop of. “If I had the strength I would burn that blackened heart of yours right out of your chest.”
“Should I be worried about tomorrow then?”
“Very.” She rose to face him, hatred pouring forth from her eyes and twining about her head like a poisonous snake baring its fangs. He met it with a hardened look of his own.
“I’m still waiting on a ‘thank you’ for dragging you out of the ocean,” he said.
“And I’m waiting on a ‘thank you’ for keeping your tiny heart from shriveling up. Trust me, it was no easy task.”
He smiled coldly. “My, you have a big mouth for someone so small.”
“And you have a big head for someone with such little brains.”
He almost laughed, but they had been through a lot and Peeta was tired of arguing. He crossed to the fire pit and ignored the eyes boring into the back of his head.
“What? No response?” she goaded bitterly, but Peeta didn’t rise to her bait, focusing instead on starting a fire. After scraping two jagged rocks together, there was a spark. Thankfully the kindling was dry and after a few harsh blows and a prayer, Peeta was successful. The fire was delicious, like a tiny heart slowly beating life back into his frozen fingers.
He realized that this was the first time in weeks that he and the witch hadn’t been separated by iron bars.
As if in response to the shameful flush of heat that had radiated through his body at the thought, he heard a muffled sound, like a bird’s wings rubbing together, and turned his head.
The witch’s dress was off, her body bared to him. Her small, rounded breasts and jutting hips shone like caramel in the soft light.
Peeta’s cheeks flamed, afraid that he had been caught staring. “What are you doing?” he sputtered as he moved to shield his eyes.
She turned to pick her dress up off the floor and shot a look over her shoulder. Her very bare shoulder. “You don’t seriously think I’m going to spend the night in a wet dress, do you?”
“But you’re naked!” He winced at how petulant he sounded, how very much like a child he still was in some ways.  
She rolled her eyes at him, but he was too focused on avoiding the very sight of her that he didn’t notice. “You’ll get naked too if you have any sense. No use in wearing wet clothes when you can let them dry.”
“You’re perverted.”
“I’m being practical.” She twisted the seawater out of her dress and then snapped the damp fabric at his back. “Now strip.”
X
He had to admit, shucking off his wet uniform and wrapping his body in a pelt had made him feel much better, though he was careful to cover the flesh between his legs when he did.
“Aw, you’re blushing,” she laughed. The sound set Peeta’s nerves on edge. The witch lounged near the fire pit on a nest of pelts she had constructed, wrapped in a glossy black fur that reflected threads of reddish-gold in the firelight. As she sat, the weak glow of the flames cast her features into warm relief, deepening the shadows under her cheekbones and darkening her lashes. Her salt tangled hair was as ebony black as a night sky with no stars and her skin was flawless, the color of water beaten clay beds.
“Come here,” she beckoned.
Instead, Peeta took a step back. “I do not take orders from witches. Even naked ones.”
“It’s like you don’t want to survive the night,” she scoffed. “See this?” Her furs shifted as she reached out a hand, allowing a dark sliver of her inner thigh to catch the light.
Peeta tried not to stare.
She pointed a finger towards the dwindling fire. “We barely have any wood left, and when the fire dies while we’re sleeping, the only thing keeping us warm will be each other. Now get over here. I don’t plan on freezing to death when I have a big lump of muscle to keep me toasty.”
She made a good point, but still, Peeta hesitated. What if this was just a trick? A lure to get him close enough so she could pounce and gouge his eyes out. Or maybe she’d wait to finish him off when he fell asleep, his beating heart ripped from his chest while he cradled her against him.
In the end, he decided there was little chance of them surviving out here with no food and only three measly logs to keep a fire going. If he was going to die, he’d rather die warm. Besides, having his heart ripped from his chest would be over faster than starvation.
He moved towards the nest, and only after he had discarded his pelt and shimmied under hers did she speak.
“Closer, lieutenant,” she urged in a singsong voice.
He growled in response.
“Seriously, you’re acting like a blushing schoolboy.”
“I do not wish to lay with a witch.”
“This is not laying. This is surviving. If you had any experience pleasuring a woman you’d know the difference.”
Peeta’s body stiffened behind her.
“Oh, don’t tell me you’re embarrassed by it,” she chuckled meanly. “I thought the whole point of your pious Order was that you prided yourselves on being virgins. That and murderers.”
He ignored the word murderers. Only a witch would consider what the Order did murder. Everyone else considered it justice. Shearing the rot riddled branches off the tree that was the human race. Magic was a disease, nobody should have that kind of power over another. It was unnatural and the world was better off absent of her kind, but he didn’t expect her to understand.
Monsters were always blind to their own evils.
So instead he addressed her derisive use of virgin. “We marry only when we’ve proven ourselves worthy to the Order.”
“Shouldn’t you only have to prove yourself to your wife?”
What a silly notion, Peeta thought. “A man does not have to prove himself to a woman. He has responsibility over her. Nothing more.”
“How romantic.”
“Do not mock me, slum scum.”
“I think I like ‘witch’ better,” she quipped. She was infuriatingly quick-witted and Peeta seethed in silence, unsure that he could contend with such a sharp tongue.
“Whatever,” she said after the silence grew too long. “Just know that there’s nothing to worry about. Even if I wanted to, I would never defile my body with the likes of you.”
“That’s reassuring,” he muttered.
Despite her declaration, the witch drew nearer. The goose flesh of her back felt clammy against his chest, but soon their body heat melded and all he felt was radiating warmth prickling against the chill that had settled into his bones.
“Why did you save me?” he asked lowly, unable to quiet his racing thoughts. A part of him wanted to keep her talking so he wouldn’t have to close his eyes and picture Yasser’s bloated body lost at sea.
“Because you’re a human being,” she murmured, her voice saturated with drowsiness. “And because I knew if you survived I’d have someone to cuddle with at night.” Suddenly, and with a rustle of fur, she turned to face him. He scooted back. “Relax, lieutenant. This isn’t where I have my way with you. I just prefer to sleep with my back to the fire.”
“Are you always so lewd?” he asked, the disapproval in his voice as clear as a church bell ringing across a courtyard.
“If you knew me you’d know the answer to that is yes.”
“I do not wish to know you, witch.”
“Good. You don’t deserve to.”
With these terse versions of “good night” exchanged, they settled against one another, though Peeta was careful to avoid the brush of her breasts. She smelled of sea and sweat and the musk of fur, but something sweet lay underneath all that. Lavender milk. A chamomile bath. Medicinal salves. Jasmine blossoms suspended in freshwater. Long tumbles downhill.
The smells soothed him, until he remembered she’d been locked in the brig for a month and shouldn’t smell anything but horrible. A spell then. He was surprised. He thought all Krellian magic was blood rituals and sacrifices, not a spell in place of perfume.
Despite himself, his eyelids grew heavy. The last thing he remembered before falling asleep was of slinging an arm around her waist.
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thedarklingxalina · 3 years
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Frozen, Grishaverse, Harry Potter and Star Wars
Thank u for the ask game 😁 (this is me doing it like a week late cause I got distracted 😅)
Send me a fandom and i’ll tell you game
Frozen
the character i least understand - Hans. I love my villains but I just... never could like him.
interactions i enjoyed the most - Elsa and Anna. I love seeing siblings interact.
the character who scares me the most - Anna. She becomes Queen yet only a few years prior thought it was okay to leave a prince of a different country, whom she only knew for a few hours, in charge of her kingdom, and not her advisors, councillors etc.
the character who is mostly like me - Elsa.
hottest looks character - Elsa
one thing i dislike about my fave character - Elsa gave up her throne to her sister who I reeeeeaally don't think is suitable for it.
one thing i like about my hated character - his red hair
a quote or scene that haunts me - none I can think of.
a death that left me indifferent - Elsa and Olaf. I knew they were gonna be fine and Elsa's one just didn't make sense, so I was more annoyed than upset 😅
a character i wish died but didn’t - Hans.
my ship that never sailed - Jelsa (I know, he's from a different movie but a lassie can dream)
Grishaverse
the character i least understand - Baghra, as she's hypocritical. And sometimes... I don't really get Alina even though I love her.
interactions i enjoyed the most - This will surprise no one when I say all the Darkling x Alina moments, and I mean every moment.
the character who scares me the most - The Darkling, but in the best ways.
the character who is mostly like me - I'm a little like Alina but there are many decisions she made that I wouldn't. For one, I would have helped kill the King.
hottest looks character - Darkling
one thing i dislike about my fave character - Alina being a bit too dependent on others and maybe even a bit naive. She also has a few lines which really bugs me. 'I never needed you' which was a lie as she did need the Darkling and would have been dead several times over without him or saying he betrayed the grisha, which I don't think he did. I feel some of her empowering moments, are a little hollow because of these lines.
one thing i like about my hated character - Nothing. There is nothing I like.
a quote or scene that haunts me - The war room table but it haunts me in the best way 😏
a death that left me indifferent - Not read the books but in the live action I haven't really been that bothered who lives or dies.
a character i wish died but didn’t - Begins with M.
my ship that never sailed - Darklina 😭 I mean, it kinda sailed but it's not canon.
Harry Potter
the character i least understand - Bellatrix. She creepy.
interactions i enjoyed the most - Hermione and Draco's interactions.
the character who scares me the most - Umbridge.
the character who is mostly like me - I don't think any of them are like me.
hottest looks character - Draco.
one thing i dislike about my fave character - Ginny's like of quidditch (the game reminds me to much of football and where I'm from football results in a lot of violence and hatred, to put it lightly. Just yesterday our city centre, during a pandemic, got wrecked by thousands cause of a team victory).
one thing i like about my hated character - His red hair.
a quote or scene that haunts me - The forest spider scene, just no.
a death that left me indifferent - This will sound bad, but all of them pretty much left me indifferent. I wasn't a big fan of most of the characters, only my ships 😅
a character i wish died but didn’t - Starts with an R.
my ship that never sailed - dramione and gin n tonic
Star Wars
the character i least understand - Palpatine. What the hell was that auld yins plan in the final movie? Why make the pickled Snokes? Why want Rey to kill you, not kill you, kill you, not kill you?
interactions i enjoyed the most - Reylo 🥰
the character who scares me the most - Snoke. That golden robe still haunts me.
the character who is mostly like me - Rey in TFA and TLJ but not TROS (I don't think even Rey was like Rey in that movie. What happened to our girl?)
hottest looks character - Kylo Ren
one thing i dislike about my fave character - Everything about Rey in TROS.
one thing i like about my hated character - omg... it's his red hair. There is a pattern here 😅 Their red hair is their only redeeming quality.
a quote or scene that haunts me - "I will earn your brothers lightsaber", "you have his power", "I am all the jedi", "she's not on Jakku", "Rey Skywalker", "Rey Palpatine".
a death that left me indifferent - Hux.
a character i wish died but didn’t - Everyone I wanted to die died. (So did everyone I didn't want to die 😭)
my ship that never sailed - GingerRose
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figments of the dark
yes i read all the grishaverse books after watching the show yes i’ve now written kanej fic yes they’re my dream couple no i’m not okay mentally. SPOILERS FOR CROOKED KINGDOM this fic takes place right after it. 
(also on ao3)
~~
She kept pace with him initially. Walking down to the harbor, he watched as the Suli couple moved closer and closer, the details of their appearance materializing with each step. The gray of the man’s hair creeping in at the edges. The woman’s long braid lying gracefully over her shoulder. Their hands clasped together, tugging each other along as the distance between them and their daughter disappeared. Inej was nearly jumping out of her own skin, but she stayed by his side, only breaking into a sprint when there was nothing but a few feet separating them. It was the most impressive feat of strength he’d seen from her. From anyone, if he was being honest. 
They swallowed her whole. Neither were particularly tall, but they towered over her nonetheless, their arms wrapping effortlessly around her delicate frame. As he stepped closer, he could hear them amidst the sobs, the prayers usually whispered under Inej’s breath now spoken loudly and without reservation. Their foreignness was familiar. Kaz might not have cared for gods or saints, for myths and legends, but the sound of their devotion still soothed his racing heart.
He stood back as they held one another. A feeling deep in his gut ignited softly, a spark burning in isolation: not strong enough to turn into a flame, but with enough heat to leave a scar. It wasn’t resentment — he would have given anything for her to have this moment, would have let the rest of the world crumble around them if that’s what it cost — but an aftertaste of something else lingered as he watched them. No matter how often he won, how deft defying the odds or complicated the scheme, he’d never have anyone waiting for him when the dust settled. Not like Inej did. Not like Jesper did. His victories had long been celebrated in solitude, and he’d come to terms with that years ago. 
Still, the feeling seemed to whisper, a voice in his head that sounded like someone he knew. Still.
“Kaz!” He blinked the thoughts away, straightened his back as they walked toward him. “Mama, Papa, this is Kaz Brekker. He’s saved my life more times than I can count.”
“Your daughter paints me in a better light than I deserve.” He looked at her as he added, “No one has ever protected me the way she has.”
Their eyes were locked, and he saw it again. One of the first lessons Ketterdam had taught him was to read faces as if they were words on a page. Any hand could be won, any man could be manipulated, if one could learn to see beneath the surface. Nobody could hide forever. Their hearts would give them away every time. 
Now he was grateful for the lesson. Not for the victories it had led to, or the money he’d won, but for the undeniable truth of what he saw. Adoration. When Inej looked at him, it was as if the entire harbor floated away, and all that was left were the tears in her eye and the smile on her face. It didn’t matter that the real joy had come from her parents; he would use any excuse to be on the other end of that look, regardless of whether he deserved it.
Kaz didn’t even notice her father until Inej stuck her arm out, spoke in quick and hushed Suli. He didn’t have to know the language to understand — Mr. Ghafa had moved to embrace him, until Inej stood in the way. Kaz had been lost in the endless depths of her eyes, drawn to them like a sailor to a siren, so fixated he would have drowned rather than tear his gaze away. Inej, his better in every way that mattered and every way that didn’t, had never lost sight of the world around them. Even now, when the threat came in the form of a grateful father, when her focus should have been at its weakest, she was still protecting him. 
He wanted to tell her that he would take it. The touch, and the revulsion that came with it. The gratitude he’d done nothing to earn. He would suffer any pain, subject himself to all kinds of agony, play whatever character she wanted, even the farm boy he knew had died in that river. He would hunt the world for her wretched saints and construct an altar of his own, if it kept that smile on her face. 
“Thank you,” her mother said, the words still muddled by the tears that had yet to stop. “Thank you for keeping her safe.”
Safety didn’t exist in Ketterdam, and it certainly wasn’t what he’d given her when he’d taken her out of that Menagerie, but he kept his mouth shut, nodded curtly. That wasn’t his story to tell. 
“Every day, we searched,” her father said. “They told us to give up. They said you were lost, that those who took you would never let you go. They said you wouldn’t make it no matter where you’d gone, but we said no. Our Inej has angels on her shoulders and wings on her back. She can survive anything.”
If she hadn’t been before, Inej was crying now. With every passing moment, Kaz felt more and more like an intruder. He wondered if it was some sort of retribution for each time he’d sent her to creep in through someone’s window, to become the audience they weren’t aware of. How much had he learned from her being privy to moments like this, so intimate and exposed? What had it cost her to push back the guilt that came with the encroachment?
“I can,” she said. “But I didn’t have to do it alone.”
He listened half-heartedly as she told them about Wylan and Jesper and Nina. The house she was staying in, with a staff and a view and a life that was much more palatable to those unfamiliar with the stench of the Barrel. Painting over their history was effortless with those kinds of tools. The only question was how long it could last. 
As they began walking, he forced his face into neutrality, buried any evidence of the thoughts that ran through his mind. They would have to find out eventually. Perhaps not all of it, and ideally not all at once, but in due time the truth would become unavoidable. They spoke of survival as if it was an honorable thing, but where that ship had taken Inej, only those with the sharpest of claws and malleable of morals made it out alive. Dirtyhands may have become his title, but nobody around here could claim cleanliness. Not even the dead.
The path made itself clear, the flip of the final card coming to him with striking clarity. A death blow delivered by the river, turning a winning hand into a losing one in a single fluid motion. They had been looking for their lost child, for a little girl who only ever pushed the limits in a performance. But the secret to the Dregs was that everyone was already dead. They may have called themselves Crows, but like phoenixes born from the ashes of their old lives, rebirth was an entry level requirement. Whoever they’d gone searching for, the Ghafa’s had found someone else. He didn’t know when they’d realize it, when they’d look at their daughter and see a stranger in her place, but he knew the moment would come. And for the first time in his short and miserable life, Kaz longed to be wrong. 
Tuning back into the conversation, he caught the tail end of a list of relatives, each one having done their own part in trying to find her. Inej stood in between them as they walked. Kaz let himself fall back just slightly, a pace behind theirs. It was as much privacy as he could give out on the street. Things may have improved for the Dregs in the past few weeks, but that didn’t mean people weren’t still watching, waiting to find them in a moment of weakness, waiting for their chance to steal the throne Kaz and his crew had built from nothing. 
“We’ll send a letter as soon as we make it to your friends’ home. Nobody knew what to believe when the messenger came to us with news about you. Half the family were convinced this was all a scam, a ruse to kidnap us as well.”
“Your aunts will start planning the celebration before we even board the ship home,” her mother said with a smile. The tears had eased up, replaced with effortless joy and comfort. “Preparing the food will take half the length of the trip, at least.”
Inej let out a moan. “Nobody in Ketterdam knows how to cook properly.”
Her mother’s smile grew, something he hadn’t thought was possible. “Anything you want, I’ll make. Saints willing, I’ll be cooking for you for the rest of my life.”
“You’re in for a treat,” her father added. “Ever since the circus ended, your mother has been cooking non-stop. Everything will be better than you remember.”
“Wait,” her eyebrows scrunched together. “What do you mean, the circus ended?”
The smiles faded. “We tried,” he said, his voice tainted with the somber weight of grief that grew heavier over time. “But how could we go on without our star? How could we look to the sky and see someone else walking amongst the clouds?”
“It wasn’t fair,” her mother said softly. “To the family. They needed the performances to survive, but we…we needed every moment to search for you. We needed you to survive.”
They’d slowed their pace, and even though he slowed with them, they now stood nearly side by side. Kaz left a gap the size of a person between him and her father in a pathetic and slightly selfish attempt at disappearing. He’d have pulled an Inej and evaporated altogether, had she not asked him to stay. 
“I’m sorry,” Inej said, and he couldn’t see her face clearly but he could hear the tears in her voice. 
“For what, zheji?”
“For being the reason you stopped. Performing was our lives. It was everything you’d worked toward.”
“Inej, you are our lives. You are more important than any stage or crowd. You are worth more than any money in the world.” Her mother stopped walking, grabbed hold of her face as she said, “I would walk away from the circus a thousand times if it meant you were safe.”
Inej just nodded. The feeling snuck in again, quick and quiet and sharp; he forced it back down as they started walking again. He refused to let his pitiful, despicable nature ruin any part of this moment for her. 
“And who knows?” Her father said, the cheer in his voice somehow both authentic and artificial. “Once you come home, maybe we can put the show back on the road. Perform as a family again.”
Oh. So this was the moment. He’d known it was a possibility when he’d made the deal, but his mind had refused to accept it. The life he led required foresight, examining every outcome for every choice, but he hadn’t found the strength to prepare for this ending: the moment she left.
His step staggered ever so slightly. It shouldn’t have been noticeable, shouldn’t have disrupted the rhythm of their walk, but like a conductor trained to spot the lone instrument out of tune, Inej turned. She stared first at the ground in front of him, then brought her gaze up. Met his. An inquisitive look flashed across her face, as if she was searching for the disruption. Or perhaps she was searching for something else. 
He tried to school his features into something legible, to show her the answer she was looking for. The permission, although it wasn’t his to give. The forgiveness, although there was no guilt to absolve. Even when he wanted to fall onto his hands and knees and beg her to stay; even when the thought of her living across the true sea made the air around him grow thicker and his lungs smaller, made breathing a painful, labored thing. He nodded his head slightly even when every nerve in his body fought against it, because if there was anyone who deserved to turn their back on Ketterdam and leave it all behind, it was her. If leaving was what made her happy, he’d send her off without a single word of protest. If she wanted to fly on her own land, on her own accord, who was he to ground her, to tie her wings for the sake of his own spoiled heart?
Inej didn’t say anything, but the look on her face…Kaz wasn’t one to cling to hope, but he grasped desperately to her reluctance, to the way she bit her lip and kept her eyes away from her parents. Even if she also kept them away from him.
— 
Jesper had a thousand questions. 
He’d spent half of dinner begging the Ghafas for stories about Inej as a child, and the other half endlessly praising Mrs. Ghafa’s cooking. Kaz couldn’t fault him for the latter — Inej and her mother had spent most of the afternoon in the kitchen, and what they’d come out with was quite easily the best meal he’d ever had. The way they managed to extract flavors he’d never tasted before from the ingredients he’d had at his disposal for years was an art form in itself, one that rivaled even his own general resourcefulness. And the smell. Envy reared its ugly head at the thought of Wylan and Jesper getting to enjoy the lingering scent long after the meal had been devoured.
“We had a guest faint during one of her performances.” Her father was telling the story with the same enthusiasm as he had with every one that came before. Where Inej was silent and still, her father was big and bold, every move exaggerated and every word announced rather than spoken. Kaz wondered whether it had always been her nature, or whether he was witnessing what Inej might have been had she not been forced into the shadows. 
“Faint? Because of Inej?”
“Oh, yes. You see, we realized that we couldn’t make it look too easy. Not that it was easy, of course, but when Inej walks that rope, it looks effortless. So we staged a wobble, a moment for her to pretend to lose her balance. Oh, the way people panicked! They’d hold their breaths and try to hide their eyes, but none of them could ever look away, not until she made it to the other side.”
“Was the woman who passed out okay?” Wylan asked.
Her father shook his head. “You misunderstand. Women never looked away. They stared with intensity, as if their eyes could carry her to safety. The poor man collapsed right there in the front row.”
“He didn’t even see the rest of my act,” Inej added. “That’s the real travesty.”
“Maybe he’ll come back and see how it ends once you’re home.” Kaz saw it again, the feeling streaking across her face like a runaway star. Only this time, it wasn’t reluctance: it was guilt. 
“I can’t.”
“Can’t what, zheji?”
The first words had come out softly, but when Inej looked up at her father, she spoke with the determination that Kaz had grown used to. “I can’t stay. I can’t rejoin the circus.”
“So you’re out of practice. It’s nothing a little time can’t fix! You have magic in you, Inej. That doesn’t just go away.”
“No,” she said. “I can’t rejoin the circus because I have to come back. Here, to Ketterdam.”
Her mother reached across the table, put her hands in her own. “They took you against your will. Against our will. Whoever stole you can’t stop us from taking you home. Nobody can keep you here anymore.”
“No,” she said, “you’re not hearing me. I want to go home. I want to see the family, to spend time with you. But I also want to come back.”
“I don’t understand,” her father said, and Kaz could hear the desperation creeping into his voice. “What could a place like this possibly have that would be worth leaving your family? Leaving your home?”
“Papa, it’s not about leaving you.” Jesper was practically bouncing out of his own skin, and Wylan’s eyes scoured the room in search of anything else to look at, but Kaz kept his gaze fixed on the table in front of them. A part of him knew the noble thing, the polite thing, would be to silently excuse himself, to give the Ghafas this moment alone. But Inej had started it with them there, and Kaz didn’t have the willpower to walk away before he heard her answer. 
“Then what is it about?”
“It’s about everyone else.” Inej spoke with fervor, impassioned with purpose and righteousness. It fit her better than being a spider ever had. “There are hundreds of little girls and boys going through exactly what I did. Only they don’t get rescued. They don’t have anyone looking out for them.” She spared a quick glance his way; he pretended not to notice. “I can’t go home while they suffer.”
“So it is us who should suffer, then?”
Inej groaned. “Mama, that isn’t fair and you know it.”
“Life isn’t fair,” her father said. “The world is full of terrible people, Inej. You can’t—“
“Trust me when I say I know the terrors of both men and women alike.” Venom had slipped into her voice. Kaz watched the shock slowly register across her parents’ faces, watched as they blinked at the girl who had replaced their daring but soft-spoken daughter. He wondered when they’d truly process her words. Back in Ravka? On the boat home? Maybe it would come while they lay awake tonight, dreams poisoned by the realization that some version of their worst nightmare had come true. That even though she stood in front of them now, seemingly all in one piece, Ketterdam had still taken something from her, and nothing they ever did could give it back.
“I only meant to say,” her father continued, his tone shifting into something gentler, “that this battle is one you’ll likely never win. There’s no end to greed. Not in this lifetime. Perhaps not even in the next. Every enemy you defeat, every man you force into accountability, will only be replaced by two more looking to use his failure as a stepping stone.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to adjust my aim. Target the root and not the weeds.”
“Why?” Her mother groaned, frustration and terror written all over her face. “Why does it have to be you? Someone else can save the world. Someone else’s daughter can play the hero. Why can’t you just come home?”
“Who, Mama? Who’s gonna save them if not me? Who’s going to watch out for them when their families are told they’re dead and nobody else comes looking?” She turned toward her father. “I know it’s a losing hand. But I’m not the same person I was before. I know how to win with anything now, how to bend the rules so they work in my favor.”
“But you don’t have to,” he begged. 
“If nobody ever tries, nothing gets better. I have to try, Papa. I owe them at least that much. I owe myself that much.”
The silence spread quickly. He knew there was nothing in the air, but the tension felt like a gas leak, like one spark could set the whole house ablaze. Kaz watched the way they stared across the table, each waiting for the other to break first but neither one wanting to watch them burn. Even if he hadn’t been a betting man, he would have known who to back in this fight of wills. Whether on the ground or in the air, Inej would hold steady. If nothing else, he could count on that.
Jesper clapped his hands, the sound echoing across the room that felt both overwhelmingly big and suffocatingly small. “So! Who’s up for a little music?”
Kaz found her exactly where he expected to. The sound of Wylan’s piano faded as he cracked open the window, pulling himself up onto the roof even when his leg throbbed in protest. 
Inej didn’t move, didn’t do anything to acknowledge his presence. She didn’t have to — she always knew where he was, just as he did her. Climbing up to her perch, he let the sounds of the city surround them. It never mattered what time of day it was: someone in Ketterdam was always awake, and therefore, no one was ever truly alone.
“They don’t believe me,” she said softly. He fought the urge to turn toward her; he knew that some words were more easily spoken to something rather than someone. “They think that the minute I get home, I’ll just forget about everything here.”
“Unfortunately, I think Jesper’s singing is going to be permanently ingrained in all our minds.”
He spared a quick glance, caught the corners of her mouth creeping upward. “Who needs to remember? I’m positive the sound will carry all the way across the true sea and into Ravka.”
“We should be grateful for their diminished armies, then. If they had the means, I’m positive this performance would be a worthy cause to go to war.”
She laughed then, just once, but saints the sound was enough to send electricity through his entire body. He’d start a war himself for that sound. He’d crawl into the Ice Court with nothing but his own two hands. He’d try and heal the shattered bits inside himself if it meant he got to hear her at her happiest, if he got to be the one to make her feel that way in the first place. 
Kaz wanted to stay like this, to poke fun and let the future disappear, to laugh and let the hard words hide beneath the sound, but he’d never had a habit of doing what was good for him. The dead of night exposed questions that cowered in the light of day, and for all his strength, he couldn’t resist knowing the answers. “Would it be so bad? To forget this place?”
“I could never do that. Not even if I wanted to.”
“You don’t know if that’s true. Time away, back with your family, it could help. It could…heal.”
Inej finally turned toward him, the daggers in her eyes as accurate and deadly as the ones strapped to her wrists. “Do you really think you could just leave and pretend like none of this ever happened?”
Part of him wanted to lie, wanted to believe in a world where the past stayed locked in history and the future could be its own thing entirely. If not for himself, then for her. But while the sentiment may have been foreign to her parents, Kaz and Inej spoke the language of the Dregs. There was a reason people got tattooed when they joined: being a Crow wasn’t something you could ever leave behind. 
“No,” he said. “I don’t.”
“Exactly.” She turned forward again, stared at the city as if it could give her whatever answer she was looking for. “All night, I could feel my parents looking for a ghost. They remember a girl whose only dream in life was to walk across air, but there are other things that matter more to me than the fucking applause.” She leaned back without losing her balance. “I don’t think they’re ready to see the person I’ve become.”
“Then they’re missing out on the strongest, bravest, and most honorable person in all of Ketterdam.”
Inej raised an eyebrow at him. There was curiosity in her eyes, and behind it, something more. Something he hadn’t seen on her yet, despite spending a considerable amount of time stealing glances, soaking in the sight of her whenever he could afford to. He couldn’t be sure, but it almost looked like pride. “Since when do you care for honor?”
“Since you watched me at my weakest and my worst, and still deemed me a worthy cause for devotion.” He kept his eyes on her now, emboldened by the light of the moon and the truth of his words. “You look to your saints for guidance, but I look to you. So long as you stand by me, I know I haven’t strayed too far.”
As he spoke, he carefully slipped his hand out of his glove; when the only sound left was the echo of his words around them, he reached for her hand, let his own slide into place within it. Immediately the rush came, the concoction of emotions all tangled up and twisted. He squeezed, let the pressure of her reciprocation ground him in the present and on dry land. 
Pain would always come first. No matter how much time passed, no matter who he was with, Kaz wasn’t sure that would ever change. For so long the agony had held a chokehold on anything else that might come with it, suppressing desire until it was all but nonexistent. The longer they held onto one another, though, the stronger it became. Inej dulled the anguish until it was no sharper than a blunt knife, until he could feel everything else without being blinded by the blade. 
Eventually, she let go, only to shift and drop her head onto his shoulder. She rested largely on his jacket, but there was a sliver, right by his neck, where their skin came together. It set his pulse on fire. It felt like exhaling. Like holding something so delicate in his hands he didn’t dare breathe and risk disturbing it. The weight of her against him sent all his senses up into disarray, and he wondered for half a second if this was what the rush of parem felt like, because with Inej leaning against him. he swore he could see, hear, feel everything. The pain all but evaporated. The world came gloriously into tune, and now that he’d heard the sweet sound it could make, Kaz wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to tolerate a sour note. 
“Thank you,” she whispered, the sound nearly blending into the ambiance provided by the sky above and ground below, nearly drowned by the synchronous beats of their hearts. “Thank you for bringing them back to me.”
“Anything,” he responded just as quietly. “No matter the cost nor the reason. If you ask, I’ll do anything.”
“Why?” The question was so genuine, and he wasn’t sure he had an answer. How could he possibly put into words the feeling of needing her happiness as much as he needed air to breathe? What could he give her that could show just how deeply he craved her, and how terrifying and exhilarating and all-encompassing that desire was? 
“You asked me earlier about my tell,” he said after a moment. His eyes were fixed on the city in front of him, but he could feel her gaze. This time, it was he who couldn’t say the words to her face. “I gave you a half-truth. My tell, my true vulnerability, the thing that gives me away every time, is you. When you’re by my side, no one else matters. Not the rest of the team, not the job. Nothing.”
“Is that why you…?” She didn’t have to finish her thought. He knew what moments she thought of, the constant battle inside himself she became victim to. The back and forth, longing turning to avoidance that never managed to last. A cycle he had yet to fully break out of. 
He nodded, just enough for her to see it. “Van Eck knew. That day he…when he threatened to kill everyone else, he set the trap that I walked right into. In the moment when we were all in peril, he followed my gaze and saw who I couldn’t afford to lose.”
“That’s funny,” she said, and he stared down at her, the confusion written all over his face. She tilted her head back slightly, just enough to look at him without breaking the contact. “Had he turned his eyes to me, he would have seen the same thing. I guess we damned each other that day.”
“It’s not funny.” He desperately tried to keep the edge out of his voice, but control was a fantasy when his mind went back to that night, to the days he spent in fear of Inej being tortured or killed or worse. “I vowed to never let anyone hurt you like that again because of me. Because of what you hurting would do to me.”
The quiet settled back in, as if it had never left, as if their conversation had already dissolved into oblivion. Her head shifted slightly, eyes turned back to the city in front of them. He longed to watch her, to search in her face for the thoughts running through her mind, but she still rested against his shoulder, and he would rather throw himself off the roof than disrupt the comfort she seemed to find there. Patience was something he’d once considered a virtue, but now it was practically nonexistent. 
“We can’t control the rest of the world,” she finally said. “Nor can we stop people from coming after us. Torturing yourself to stop someone else from doing it for you doesn’t solve anything; it only guarantees pain.”
“I’m no stranger to suffering. I’d rather withstand self-inflicting wounds. Those I can control.”
“It's not just you who suffers at your own hand.” She broke apart from him, shifted her body until they were face to face. A chill settled in where her head had been. 
When Inej was walking above him, traversing through territory only few could manage, he’d allowed himself to pretend she was safe. That her perch protected her from the terrors that struck on the ground. But now, sitting above the rest of the world, all he felt was exposed. He was not Inej. He had no control here; be it to the elements or his enemies, or the one who held his heart in her hands. Every part of him was vulnerable. 
“When you hurt yourself, when you consign your life to misery on the basis that it’s coming anyway, you hurt me as well. When you keep your distance, I’m the one who ends up untethered. You want to protect me from suffering on your behalf, but all you're doing is delivering the death blow yourself.”
“I…I never meant—“
“I know,” she said, her voice gentle and calm and everything he’d never deserved. “But I refuse to accept that pain any longer. I can’t love you if you spend all your time demolishing yourself. I’ll go down with this ship, but I can’t stay if you’re the one poking holes in the deck.”
“You won’t have to.” He’d never been one for vows, but he spoke them now, wondered if any of her beloved saints could hear him. If they would even dare listen to someone as depraved as he. “I can’t promise a miracle. I won’t lie to you and spew falsities about changes in morality that I know are nothing more than a cheap trick of the light. You deserve better than that. You deserve better than me. So every moment you choose to stay by my side is one I’ll devote to earning it.”
A crash from below sent them both to their weapons, before the sound of raucous laughter eased their grip. Kaz wondered if they’d ever stop anticipating the fight, if that instinct normally developed at childhood’s end, or if it was simply another consequence of living in Ketterdam. 
“I should probably go rescue my parents. We’ve left Jesper and Wylan to their own devices for too long.” He watched as she floated down the roof, as if the surface itself was flat and level, as if the force pulling them down to the ground was only optional. When she got to the windowsill, he expected her to disappear, but instead she stopped, hands gripping the edge of the roof. “You deserve better, too,” she told him. “Better than you’ve got. Better than you’re going to get. One day I’ll make you believe it.”
Kaz didn’t say anything, didn’t so much as breathe, not until she dropped through the window and out of sight. He stared at the spot she’d left behind. There was no trace of her, nothing he could point to to prove she was there. Only the catch in his breath and the chill on his skin. 
It was something he’d almost gotten used to by now. The smell. Saltwater had been one of the first things he’d learned to endure. Success and revenge both relied on the seas, so he’d spent as much time by the water as he could, until he could tolerate the scent without having to empty the contents of his stomach after so much as a whiff. It had been a lesson, he’d told himself. Every time served as a reminder that in order to beat Rollins, he’d need to leave the broken child behind. He’d need to become something better. Someone new. 
He didn’t know if it was the smell now that was nauseating, or the sight of the boat anchored on the harbor carrying Ravka’s double eagle flag. Inej’s parents had already begun making their way to the dock. Jesper and Wylan had given their heartfelt goodbyes back at the house; Kaz had said nothing, but followed a step behind them, just as he had upon their arrival. Inej never stopped him. He took her silence as an invitation. 
They’d passed The Wraith on their walk, and now his eyes kept trying to drag him back to it. Her ship turned his body and mind into a contradiction, elicited responses that shouldn’t have coexisted. Pride and fear, joy and sorrow, guilt and righteousness. It tempted him like a puzzle he wasn’t clever enough to solve, made him think that if he just kept looking, he might be able to sort it all out. To find an answer to a question he couldn’t ever ask. 
“You’ll watch over it when I’m gone?” He turned to face her, unsurprised that she followed his gaze even when the boat lay out of view. 
“Of course. I don’t abandon my investments.”
“Tell Specht he can start trying to put together a potential crew while I’m away. And that he’s got the job as my first mate if he wants it.”
“I’ll pass the word along.”
“Tell him to look into the girls first. The ones from the Menagerie.” 
“They may be hard to find,” he said casually. “Now that Heleen is shut down, most are scattered to the wind.”
“Then it’s a good thing he’ll have you.” Kaz raised an eyebrow at her, and she rolled her eyes. “I know you’ve kept tabs on them. Offered a place in the Slat, a new name and fresh start. Offered them a ticket home, too, if they have one.”
“I work for The Wraith,” he said in response. “She expects me to rid the world of evil women and men. Can’t do that if the girls have nowhere else to go.”
“What a formidable employer.”
Kaz smirked. “Rumor has it she’s got heartsick fools wrapped around her pinky, and slavers and scum crushed beneath her fist.”
“Is that so?”
“If the whispers are to be believed.”
“Sounds like a handful.”
“Only for the scum.”
“And for the heartsick fools?”
Sincerity slipped back in and he let it, forgoed the smirk and the sarcasm entirely. “For them, it’s an honor.”
Her own smile faded, and he wondered if he’d made a mistake. If the price of genuity was her laughter and lack of tension in her shoulders, he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to pay it. “When I return — and I will, no matter what my parents tell themselves — who am I going to find?”
He wanted to tell her that he’d be the same person she left behind. That she could dock her ship and they could walk besides one another the way they have before, that nothing had to change if they didn’t want it to. But that wasn’t the answer she wanted to hear. And maybe, despite his own internal protests, that wasn’t the truth, either. 
For as long as Kaz Brekker had been alive, he’d had one singular purpose. Every choice and decision, every move he made, was done in service of that goal, the heist within all the heists. Brick by brick required time and diligence, so much so that it hadn’t left room for an after. It didn’t matter what name he used; the dominance, the relevance, the very existence of Pekka Rollins was never going to survive. Until the dust settled and he was still standing, Kaz didn’t think he would, either. 
But here he stood. And here she stood. The waves crashed against the harbor behind her, each one with a different incentive: the threat of drowning, the promise of infinite possibilities, the rueful fate awaiting any who would seek to control them. The sea dragged out what was left inside the infamous Kaz Brekker as easily as it pulled in the tide. In its wake, a rare type of tranquility remained. He had no plan, no scheme. There was only one thing left to give.
“I’m not sure,” he told her. He prayed she could hear the truth in his words. “But I know that each time you traverse the seas, I’ll be here on the shore. And whenever and wherever you decide to land, I’ll be there. Anything you need — support, supplies, a place to lie your head — you’ll have. What’s mine is yours. It always was. It always will be.”
Inej stared at him. If they were other people, he knew this would be the time for desperate hugs, for clinging to one another in some last ditch effort to fight off the sands of time. But they weren’t other people. They were Kaz and Inej. Products of the Barrel. Broken in all the same places. And he wasn’t sure he could handle holding onto her just to let her go. 
So they watched. Her eyes held the kind of radiance that the poets preached about. The wind pushed her braid back just slightly, as if it was trying to pull her toward the sea. The hilts of her knives glistened in the sun, peeking out only in places where he knew to look. If he was a religious man, he’d tell her she looked like a goddess, a deity escaped from whatever world lay beyond their own. If he followed the faith, he’d tell her that no saint, not even the one blessed with sunlight, could possibly outshine her. If he wasn’t a coward, he’d confess that he had already begun to pray for her, to beg the water to bend to her will, to keep her ship and her mission and her body and soul all in one piece. 
Years of walls crumbled under the weight of her gaze, and he let them with no resistance. He wasn’t sure what she saw when she looked at him, but he hoped she could hear the words he could not say. And the selfish, undeserving part of him wished she’d feel the same. 
The blaring horn from the ship fractured the moment. Neither of them flinched, but he watched her turn back, glance behind her at the vessel waiting to take her home. 
“I should probably go,” she said, but her feet stayed planted, her eyes already back on him. 
Courage came in the form of fear, his desperation to keep her in front of him shoving out words he hadn’t planned on saying. “When you return, who am I going to find?”
“I’m not sure.” She spoke slowly, and he wondered whether admitting it came with the same distress, the same relief, as it did for him. “But no matter what happens, I can promise you that I’ll come back. Not just to Ketterdam, or my ship. I’ll come back to you.”
“Why?” He felt sliced open just asking. No one else had ever had so many chances to destroy him without taking a single one. Part of him wondered when the shoe would drop, when the inevitable would happen and she’d turn her knife against him. How would her face look when she had his life in her hands? How long would it take her to realize he would welcome death with open arms rather than resist her? Kaz could think of no better way to die, no better way to live, than at her mercy. 
“A shadow,” Inej answered with a smile, “can only stray so far before the sun pulls it back where it belongs.”
He shook his head. “I’m the shadow; you’re the one who deserves to walk freely of me.”
She stepped closer, and his breath caught in his chest, sat right above his heart in glorious, agonizing anticipation. “Then every night I’ll pray for shade, so us figments of the dark can disappear together.”
Inej reached up, and it was only then that he noticed the gloves on her hands, thin and sleek, the same color black as his own. Despite the barrier, his heart still fluttered when she brought her hand up to his chin. She stood like that for a minute, her eyes searching for permission, and Kaz didn’t know what she was asking for but the answer would always be yes, yes, yes. 
Leaning toward him, she turned his head slightly, brought her lips to his cheek. They only touched for a second, maybe two, but it was enough to elicit another internal vow. He would find a way to fix as many of his jagged, shattered parts as he could, because the next time she brought her lips to his skin, he wanted to feel euphoria unburdened by anything else.
“I know I’ve said it before,” she whispered, “but thank you. For all of it.”
Whatever words, whatever courage he might have had, evaporated as quickly as it had come. The ship horn blared again but he kept his gaze steady, stole one last look, memorized the moment before it could fade. Inej lingered, as if she was doing the same, before she took a breath and turned around. 
Kaz watched. He watched her board the ship side by side with her parents. He watched her turn back as it began to pull away, the lone traveler facing Ketterdam rather than the endless sea. He watched until the ship disappeared into the horizon, the sight of it swallowed up by the glare of the sun. And even when it was gone, he watched for just a little bit longer, as if his eyes could carry her across the sea and into the safety that only existed in dreams and on a stage.
Turning around still hurt. Part of him longed to stay anchored to the harbor, to wait for her in the very spot she’d left him. But instead, he pulled his watch out of his pocket and began walking toward the Barrel. There was no time for standing around and waiting patiently. Not when he worked for The Wraith. She expected him to scrub their dirty home clean, and despite all his failings, Kaz Brekker refused to disappoint. 
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vreugd-madelon · 3 years
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Shadow and Bone Triology Review
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The Shadow and Bone Triology by Leigh Bardugo is the first installment of the Grishaverse. It’s a Young Adult High Fantasy series which consists of 3 books: 1) Shadow and Bone - 368 pages. 2) Seige and Storm - 432 pages. 3) Ruin and Rising - 449 pages. This makes a grand total of 1249 pages in the entire trilogy. I’ve read the Six of Crows duology earlier, which was my intro to Leigh Bardugo’s writing, and you can check that review out here.
Alina Starkov is an orphan and a soldier who knows she may not survive her first trek across the Fold - a swath of darkness crawling with monsters. But when they are attacked Aline unleashed a power she didn’t know she possessed. Sent off to the palace, she must now navigate the the lavish world of royalty and politics and train with the Grisha - Ravka’s magical military elite. Will she be able to controll her power and save her war torn country?
I rate Shadow and Bone 4.5/5 stars.
I love the beginning of the story. Alina’s powers are introduced in a very intense situation and makes it logical why they’ve not shown up earlier and explains why she hadn’t known about it before. Later in the book it is explained through a short flashback about why her powers didn’t show up earlier and it makes alot of sense.
Alina’s feelings for Malyen are very obvious as we read the book from her POV, but also kinds creepy as they’ve grown up together as orphans from the age of 8. I would feel like they’d be my sibling even though not by blood. But I understand their side of the love triangle more than between Alina and the Darkling. In chapter 13 there is a particular moment of physical affection from the Darkling’s side, but never has he shown any interest in her besides her being a tool to be used to destroy the Shadow Fold. At least Mal and Alina has some witty banter in the beginning of the book, which really established their relationship with each other. I’m really not rooting for either of them, I hope that in the 2nd or 3rd book another man comes along and sweeps her off her feet.
I do like the general story about her and what is happening and everything is a very logical progression, except for one moment. That moment is when the tables get turned and suddenly the Darkling is seen as an enemy. I understand why, but it happens in the span of maybe 4 pages, and then Alina needs to go on the run. I think it might’ve been better if it was forshadowed a bit more that the Darkling isn’t all that good.
The ending was really fascinating to read. I won’t spoil much, but it was a really intersting way to show how different, but also similar the Darkling and Alina are.
I can’t want to start book 2: Seige and Storm
I rate Seige and Storm 4.5/5 stars.
This time is for a different reason, because while I believed all the characters and they were more fleshed out in this book, the thing that didn’t make it 5 stars is the pacing, which was so much better in the 1st book. In the beginning they find the 2nd amplifire then there is a dip in al the of the action for all of the middle section as it’s all just conversations and her walking from one place to the next, before the ending comes along. The ending I didn’t really like, howevery.
Sturmhond is also an amazing character. I liked him in Six of Crows/Crooked Kingdom, but here he’s just amazing!
I really wonder what is going to happen in book 3: Ruin and Rising, so I’m going straight into that one now!
I rate Ruin and Rising 5/5 stars.
I loved every moment of it. The pacing was really good, an amazing flow between calmer moments and high stakes which made it enjoyable to continue reading. The character continue in their amazing ways from the 2nd book which I also appreciated.
The Darklings connection to Morozova was explained really well as good as how the Shadow Summoner came to be. Malyen’s Origin was explained also well, meaning his insane tracking abilities as others, but I didn’t really like it (but that’s a personal opinion). There is one Question that still remains for me: How is Alina the Sun Summoner? She’s a class of Grisha that has been extinct and gone into legend, so how did she come back from that?
As stated before I already read Six of Crows, but now I really want to read King of Scars and Rule of Wolves. The Grishaverse has been better than I could’ve ever imagined.
Do you have any questions? Send me an ask here on tumblr or tweet me. Are any books that you want to recommend? Be sure to let me know! If you wish to support me, you can buy me a coffee!
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writewithurheart · 3 years
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Hearts of Kyber: Part II
a/n: Hello lovely readers!! We’re back for Part 2 of 3! I’m so happy to be able to share this with all of you. And once again check out the work the rest of Crow Squadron has done because it is absolutely FABULOUS.
Corporalki: @kazandthecrows
Materialki: @anubem (art link) @generalstarkov (art link) @pijoshi (art link) @mitdemadlerimherzen (art link | art link 2) @erandraws (art link) @nannadoodles (art link)
Summary: When an Imperial pilot defects, the Rebellion sends its best spies to find out what he knows. They discover the existence of a planet-destroying weapon known as the Death Star and a scientist who holds the secrets to its only weaknesses. Guided by the pilot, Wylan, and a former storm trooper, Matthias, Kaz Brekker leads a team to uncover the secret that can save the Rebellion before it’s crushed for good.
A Grishaverse Rogue One AU for the Grishaverse Big Bang 2021
Read on AO3 or below the cut: 
Part II
Inej wraps her scarf around her head as the shuttle enters the atmosphere to a downpour of rain. She checks her gear. There’s a couple scorch marks from the earlier fight, but everything else is in good repair. It should keep her relatively dry.
Satisfied with her equipment, she turns back to Nina and Matthias. Nina’s fallen asleep on Matthias’s shoulder, exhibiting that her ability to sleep anywhere remains intact.
He looks uncomfortable with everything that’s happening around him. Despite all he’s already shared with them, Matthias still looks unsettled. His hand grips Nina’s, thumb moving in circles against the back of her hand. Inej isn’t even sure he knows he’s doing it. It’s clear that he and Nina have gotten close over the last two years. Inej is happy for her friend. 
Matthias clearly didn’t sign up for this. He leaned on Nina for support through their entire conversation. She’s seen that confusion in contacts they’re trying to turn before. Normally Jesper was the one to help put them at ease. Kaz and Inej had their own modes of gathering information. 
It can be hard to be thrown into a new situation, and Kaz doesn’t exactly ask your opinion before he turns around and questions your entire belief system. Matthias doesn’t seem to regret what he’s shared. He had only floundered when Kaz had asked about the anti-military defenses. He’d moved past it quickly and all the information fits with what they already know about Imperial procedures. 
She moves through the shuttle back to Kaz’s side, leaving Nina and Matthias in their bubble. He’s on the radio to Rebel Command, sequestered in a little corner. She lets him speak as her eyes drift over Jesper in the pilot seat. The Imperial Pilot - Wylan - is pointing out something as the shuttle weaves around rocky pillars. 
It has something to do with radars and detection. Jesper’s the natural choice to fly, better with the quick maneuvers than anyone else on their crew. Inej leans against the wall and watches the rain through the windshield. 
Kaz finishes his report and turns back to her. He looks tired, his face tight and drawn. They’ve worked together long enough that she can recognize his expressions. He’s shutting down his emotions right now. Whatever they’ve said isn’t something he’s pleased with. 
She tilts her head. “What did they say?” 
His hand curls into a fist. “They want to send a strike team.” 
Inej’s gut clenches at the thought. In the last three years, they’ve, collectively, done terrible things for the Rebellion. They’re the team that gets their hands dirty and keeps the Rebellion well-informed. This weapon - the Death Star - is greater than any other threat they’ve ever faced. She honestly doesn’t know how they’ll face it without more information, which can only be found on Eadu according to Wylan. 
“What’s the play?” she asks. 
He taps his fingers on the head of this cane. He doesn’t look at her as he works through his problem. “They think it’s too risky to leave the scientists alive. We only have a couple hours before they arrive. If there is information, we have to get it before they get here.” 
Inej runs her hand over one of her blades as she considers the change to the plans. “That’s cutting it rather close.” 
He finally looks at her. He doesn’t say anything but he can tell by the look in his eyes that he knows it’s going to be difficult, but that she can do it. 
Inej pulls out her knife and starts to spin it as she thinks about how this changes their plans. “We can’t fight our way in. It would take too much time.” 
Kaz nods. 
“Me, Jes and Matthais,” Inej says firmly, nodding at her own thoughts. Kaz’s brain has to be on the outside if something goes wrong. Wylan is a liability: someone might recognize him. Nina would be an asset but they need Matthias’s understanding of base layout and protocol more. 
“Get the information and get out.” Kaz rubs a gloved hand across his jaw. “If the scientist slows you down…” 
Inej stops the spin of her knife and looks at Kaz. His meaning hits her. He wants her to kill the scientist if necessary. It needles her. He’s never asked her to kill before. It’s always been a matter of survival: fighting because there was no other way out of the situation. He and Jesper are always the ones who carry out of assassination assignments. 
She swallows thickly. 
“I can tell Jesper,” he offers. If he was a soft man, the words might even be tender, but Kaz Brekker has never been soft. 
“He might be the only one with the information,” Inej counters. Her hand lifts to the necklace around her neck. “Force knows we need to find a way to destroy that weapon.” 
He gives her a look. She knows he doesn’t believe in the Force even a little. He prefers to put his faith in his own mind. He also puts an extraordinary amount of faith in her, to the point of being dangerous, bewildering and exasperating. He believes in her and that’s heady, but it’s also exhausting because it’s not like he would ever admit it. 
He watches her for a moment, eyes boring into her soul. 
“We’ve got this, Kaz.” She assures him. She takes a deep breath to breathe in the will of the Force, like her mother once taught her. She doesn’t want to hear his reservations or doubts, because she knows he won’t say them and she doesn’t want this to drag on.  
“Keep your comms open,” he instructs. “We’ll be your eyes on the outside. We won’t be able to call off the airstrike.” 
She takes a deep breath and grips her necklace. She can do this. She’s choosing to do this. 
“It’s now or never,” Jesper announces, jumping out of the pilot seat. He checks his weapons and glances at Kaz and Inej. With his raised eyebrow, Inej realizes just how close they’ve gotten in the little alcove and takes a small step back. “You get in touch with Herr Peskal?” 
Kaz nods. 
“And?” 
“We have ninety minutes.” 
Jesper nods. His brows furrowed. “Any leeway in that?” 
“Should be more than enough time,” Kaz says instead, walking away towards the back. 
Jesper looks back at her, consternation written into his features. 
Inej releases her necklace. “We have to get the information and get out. There’s a strike team on it’s way.” She tightens the band on her braid and tucks it into her hood. 
He pulls on his own poncho. “Kill protocols?” Jesper checks his pistols as he asks the question. When it takes too long for her to answer, he looks up at her. 
“We get the information. If the scientist slows us down…,” she can’t finish the statement. Jesper’s eyes are soft as he nods, understanding what she can’t say. It’s silly that she still has these hang-ups. 
“Got it,” Jesper says. He slides his pistols back into their holsters and covers them with his poncho. 
Inej nods and moves to the hatch. Kaz stands beside the door and looks out. She stands beside him as they look out into the dark rain. He leans toward her, as close as he can be without touching. She meets his eyes. His eyes are heavy with determination about what needs to happen. In the years since she’s known Kaz, she’s seen him trade his soul for the Rebellion over and over again. He shut down his feelings under a layer of armor too thick for anything to penetrate. It’s a rare moment when she can read the depth of his emotions in his eyes. It’s only when he’s concerned about her or Jesper, not that he’d ever admit that. 
At times like this, she wishes she was the kind of person who was more comfortable with touch. She reaches out slowly and clasps his fingers. His eyes drop to her fingers and squeeze hers briefly. His eyes meet hers with the silent order to take care of herself. Inej nods in understanding and then steps back to flip her hood over her head. 
“We’re out.” 
She hears Matthias and Jesper follow her out into the rain. Their longer legs overtake her quickly and she falls into step with them easily enough.  
It turns out the infiltration itself is easy enough. According to Matthais, this base isn’t a military target and is isolated enough that they’re about to sneak in through an air vent. Or Inej is able to. The boys are reluctant to fit themselves into the vents. 
She crawls along to a control panel and allows Matthias to talk her through rerouting the cameras so they loop the current footage. It’s a crude set up but that’s all they have time and prep for. She uses the same panel to open the door for Jesper and Matthias. She sticks to the vents and drops into an empty lab based on directions she pulled from the system. 
“Kaz, who is it we’re looking for?” She asks the comm. 
“Bo Yul-Bayur.” His voice scratches over the open comm. “At least that’s what it sounds like. The pilot’s brain is still scrambled from Bor Gullet.”
She pulls up the scientist directory on a nearby screen and scrolls through the information. “He’s not in the main labs. They look empty. Jes, Matthias, got anything?” 
“It looks like there’s some sort of meeting on the main landing pad,” Matthias answers. 
“Got all the big brass and everything,” Jesper mutters. “They’re still gathering. This is the time to grab the scientist.” 
Inej starts opening cabinets in the room to see if she can find a spare uniform or a lab coat, anything that will help her blend in as she searches the halls for this Yul-Bayur she needs to locate. She’s about to despair when she notices a cubby on the far side of the room with something hanging on it. 
The white coat is a pretty good fit, if a little large on her slight frame. She only takes a moment to note that difference before her eyes land on a small picture that was hidden behind the hanging coat. It’s a holodisc, cleverly hidden that wouldn’t be visible in another light, but that’s not what stops the breath in Inej’s chest. She recognizes the photo and her own eyes staring up at her from the center, wrapped in her mother’s arms with her brother perched on her back. 
She hasn’t seen her family since she was stolen away. This means… 
The name tag on the jacket confirms her suspicion: Ghafa. 
A memory returns of a cold steel building where she used to play with a ship and where her father met with important men. She’s too young to care what’s going on, but she remembers the frigidity of it all. Nothing like the caravan and the acrobats which had always felt like home. She remembers that well. But not the before, not the time when her dad…
Whoosh 
The door opens and Inej throws herself toward the nearest workspace in the hopes that she can look busy, knowing the jacket should be enough camouflage that she doesn’t need to hide in the limited shadows. 
“Hey! You there! What are you doing at my desk?” 
The voice is a chill that runs up her spine. She’d been so sure that he was dead. That her father was lost that day when the troopers came to the caravan. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined he was alive, that he had been taken. 
Inej slowly turns around. There’s a suspicious burning in the back of her eyes as she finally lays on her father. He stiffens with a soft gasp when he finally gets a look at her face. They stand there in silence for a drawn out minute, staring at each other with open wonder. 
“I-I-Inej?” 
Her words are lost as tears start to fall so all she can manage is a jerky nod before she flings herself into his open arms and gives herself over to the joy of her father coming back to life. 
<hr> 
Kaz doesn’t do well when he can’t plan for all the variables on a mission. He scowls and glares out the windshield of the ship at the rain that thuds down on the clear screen. There’s nothing but darkness and rain outside. The comms have gone quiet as Jesper, Matthias, and Inej infiltrate the base. He’s not happy with hastily thrown together plans, even when it’s their only chance to snatch up invaluable information. He’d prefer this to have more finesse. 
Wylan Van Eck beside him still twitches nervously in his seat. His eyes are wide in perpetual shock, as if he can’t believe what his life is or how he got there. He’s going to have to get over that quickly. Kaz doesn’t have time to hold his hand. Whether he knows it or not, the pilot likely has valuable information given his relation to a relatively well-known commander of the Empire. Although whatever the Shu did to him seems to be taking its toll. 
It’s unfortunate. 
Nina finally moves from the back of the ship. In the screen, Kaz watches her stretch to wake up from her nap, as if this was just a normal turn of events. They’re going to have to talk about the last two years and her stay on Jedha, but again, that’s not the priority, not right now. Obviously, she did her thing and convinced a Druskelle to change ranks. It still makes her motivations now unknown. 
Kaz looks over the radar even though he knows the strike team is still a while out. He doesn’t like having nothing to do while his team does the difficult work. His mind is on Plan Q of this improvised operation. He dislikes the amount of variables and his role as back up. It would be irresponsible to leave anyone else with the ship. No one else would be able to make the call to leave if it came to that. 
“What’s got your panties in a twist, Brekker?” Nina asks from behind him. She’s managed to find some supply of sweets on this ship that he didn’t even realize was there. 
Her question prompts Wylan to observe him, snapping him from whatever reverie he found himself in. 
“There wasn’t much time to plan. It’s too sloppy.” It’s too risky. Kaz isn’t convinced that it’s worth the amount being risked. He doesn’t trust hearsay and rumors and fickle scientists. This could easily be a trap. 
“It’s more than that. The Force moves differently around those who are preparing to kill.” 
The pilot jerks in alarm. “What?” 
Kaz looks at Nina, projecting his own blank face. He’d forgotten how annoying her perceptiveness could be. Blasted Force-users. 
“Jesper was prepared to kill. Even Inej-”
“We’ve got a problem.” 
Kaz sits up and leans into the console at Jesper’s voice. “Talk to me.” 
“The scientist we were sent to get. He’s gone.” 
Kaz frowns. “What do you mean he’s gone?” 
“As in, dragged away screaming in front of a cadre of his own scientists and his son,” Jesper reports. There’s a voice too far away for the comm to pick up, which tells him the son is right there. “Kuwei says he knows how to destroy the device. But he won’t tell us until we’re off planet.” 
Kaz glances at the clock. They have time. “Wraith, report.” Each moment of silence screams that something is terribly wrong. “Wraith.” 
“She was in the labs,” Jesper reports. 
“They should be mostly clear by now,” Matthias adds. “We can pick her up on the way out. They don’t have much in the way of holding cells if she was captured.” 
“Because they’re more likely to shoot first than stop and ask questions,” Kaz surmises, an observation that isn’t immediately countered which does nothing to assuage his worry. Not that there’s any reason to be concerned about the Wraith. Inej is too good to be captured. 
“There would have been an alarm raised.” Matthias’s voice is hard. “They’re already on high alert. Jesper should take Kuwei back to the ship. I can blend in better on my own.” 
Kaz grits his teeth. It’s not ideal. Ideally his people need to be out of there but they need to know how to destroy the Death Star. “Do it.” 
Nina reaches past him to slam her hand against the control. “Alright, Brekker. Out with it.” 
She leans against the console and stares him down. Kaz looks blankly back at her. He didn’t miss dealing with Nina on a regular basis. She always struggled with the grey areas of their jobs, the ones where you had to make the tough calls. She liked to rely on the Force, on a higher power. Kaz prefers to rely on his own intelligence. 
“Who are you planning to kill, Kaz,” she enunciates, getting into his face. 
“No one.” Technically true now. The plan to kill the scientist is moot if they need him. The Rebel strike team is the more pressing concern at this time. 
“Don’t bullshit me. If anything happens to Matthias...” 
“You know that any infiltration has some amount of risk.” At this point, the risk is with Inej. If she can, she’ll get out of there. 
“There’s something more at play here.” 
Kaz glances at the time. “We need to know how to destroy the Death Star. That takes priority.” 
“Priority over what, Brekker?” 
He looks at her. “We also need to know they can never create another one.” 
Nina pales. 
“There’s a strike called in for the base.” 
“Well, then call it off. They can blow it up from the inside or something.” 
 He bats her hand away as she reaches for the comms. “We don’t have the explosives for that. Nor the time.” 
“The alarm’s been raised. We’re coming out hot.” 
Kaz’s blood freezes in his veins. That’s Jesper, not Matthias or Inej. That means they’ll have to take off quickly without hope of waiting it out for any stragglers. Nina meets his gaze in a challenge. He flips a button and the engines start up. He turns to Wylan in the copilot seat. “Can you fly us out of here?” 
He nods jerkily and reaches forward to start checks. Kaz bodily inserts himself between Nina and the cockpit. He has to lean heavily on his cane as he pushes back to the loading bay and opens the door. 
“Matthias-” Nina forces her way past him to jam on the button. Kaz smacks it off with his cane. 
“Inej will get them out if she can. We need to prepare.” 
“You bastard! I will never forgive you for this, Brekker.” 
His jaw clenches. Inej would never forgive him if he faltered on his path.  
“I’m going after them.” Nina rushes out the open door. Jesper arrives with an unknown entity in view. 
He can’t afford to wait for her. “Prepare for take off,” he shouts to Wylan as Jesper drags the scientist onto the space ship. 
The scientist collapses onto the bench, breathing heavily. Jesper looks back, pointing over his shoulder where Nina disappeared into the rain. “Where’s she going?” 
Kaz scowls. “She refused to leave her partner behind.” 
“Inej?” 
“Plan J,” Kaz responds. It’s his standard response when things go wrong. It’s their shorthand for ‘she’s going to find her own way out’.  
“We’ve got incoming,” Wylan shouts from the front. Jesper slams the door and dashes to the cockpit. The ship is his baby. 
“It’s the alliance,” Jesper calls. 
Kaz breathes out. He turns away from the door. “Get us out of here.” 
<hr> 
The alarm blares through the compound. Matthias listens to the sirens. Unless they’ve changed the signals, it’s the intruder alarm. Either Inej or Jesper has been found. He sighs and adjusts his suit, tugging at his borrowed uniform so it sits straight. It’s been two years and the outfit that once felt like a second skin now feels stiff and constraining. 
A platoon of troopers races past Matthias, down the hallway in the opposite direction. He overhears their leader shout about an unknown man with Lab Assistant Al Bul. Not that he has any idea where Inej might be. 
He heads towards the labs, nodding to officers as he marches along. He sticks his head into the various rooms. He lifts his hand to the silent comm. 
“Inej? Report?” 
He sees two scientists pulled from a lab in front of them. Only one is dressed in standard Imperial research regalia, the other just has a white overcoat. He vaguely recognizes the slight figure of Inej as she lurks slightly behind the scientist. 
“You’re supposed to be in the main hangar, Ghafa.” 
Matthias freezes. He knows that voice. It’s the same voice who trained him, the one that took him under his wing and trained him to take his place. Jarl Brum was the man who was a father figure since he was an adolescent. He’s the one he spent the last two years considering trying to contact. 
“Of course, Commander Brum. My assistant and I just had to finish one last computation. The captain didn’t communicate the urgency of the situation when he came by earlier.” The man sounds as polite and rational as any might be. 
“You know better than that, Ghafa. My second says he saw you on your way to the hangar when the announcement went up. You stopped. And who is your assistant? I don’t recall seeing this one around before.” 
Matthias curses. Inej isn’t sneaking under the radar. She’s not getting out of here clean, not when they’re already on high alert about a trespasser. The display in the hangar would imply that they know they have a leak, and Jarl Brum is the type to shoot first and then brutally interrogate. Leaving her is not an option. 
He drops his hand to the gun at his side and sighs. Two years ago, this wouldn’t be a consideration. He would turn himself over to Brum and gladly share everything he knew, use that knowledge to ingratiate himself to his pseudo-father. But that was before Jedha, before he witnessed what survival on the street looked like, before he learned what citizens of the Empire would consent to live under rather than suffer Imperial rule. 
He glances down the hallway and sees only one man at Brum’s side. The rest of the hallway is clear, but there’s no guarantee it will stay that way for long. Matthias looks down and sets his blaster to stun. He carefully doesn’t allow himself to think for too long. The first shot goes wide as Matthias readjusts to the Imperial blaster. He readjusts instinctually and the second shot hits the soldier in the middle of his forehead. 
Brum, with typical arrogance, doesn’t even reach for his blaster as he turns to look down the hallway. He blinks in shock as he recognizes Matthias. It couldn’t be too difficult now that he’s finally back in the Imperial uniform. 
“Matthias Helvar? My son, you’ve returned.” He turns away from the scientist. 
Inej has pushed the scientist behind her. She looks nervous as she glances between Matthais and Brum. 
“I’m not your son.” He might be a little defensive on that point seeing as he barely has the trust of this heist team. “We’re going.” 
Inej moves, keeping herself between the scientist and Brum as she pushes him further down the wall. Matthias doesn’t remove his eyes from Brum. 
Brum turns to face Matthias fully. “It’s good to see you. We thought you were lost when you landed on Jedha. You look well.” He takes a deep breath as Matthias starts to back away down the hallway. “You know you won’t get away. The entire base is looking for you.” 
He doesn’t dignify the statement with a response. He could shoot Brum right now, slide the gun from stun to kill. It would cement his change of allegiance. His finger hovers over the trigger for a moment. The hesitation costs him. Troopers round the corner. They waste no time in firing once they see Matthias pointing his weapon at Brum. He ducks and rounds the corner, firing back as he glances over at Inej.
“We need to go. Where’s Jesper?” Inej says from where she crouches beside him.
“He went ahead with the scientist,” Matthias replies. “They’re the ones who set off the alarm.” 
She scowls and glances around. “Where’s the hangar?” 
He pauses in firing. “The opposite direction from where the transport is. We need to go back the other way.” 
“No,” Inej counters. “Jesper and the scientist are back at the shuttle. That means they’re gone. We need alternate transport. Dad?” 
“What do you mean?” Matthias frowns. “They wouldn’t leave…” He’s cut off as the man gestures down the hall. Inej starts to move. Matthias hits his head against the wall. Of course they’re going to do something not in the plan. It’s what he should expect from an undisciplined bunch.
“They had no choice,” Inej whispers. She pulls a blaster on approaching troopers, causing them to drop back to avoid blasters. 
Matthias fires off a couple more shots as they race through the hallways. He curses in Fjerdan as they run. Stupid demon spies with unorthodox plans and no communication skills. “What are you talking about?” 
“There’s a strike team coming. They’re going to blow this base with us in it if we don’t get off planet now.” Inej’s voice is calm. 
When they get out of here, Matthias is going to have some strong words with Kaz Brekker about his asinine plans and the danger he puts his people in. “We’re going to the private hangar. The main one will be too crowded. It’s where they gathered the scientists earlier. Brum’s transport should be on his level.” 
He smashes open the door to an elevator. He lets Inej and the scientist in before him and then slams on the button to the correct floor as he remembers it. Finally he glances at the scientist and then to Inej. “I thought we wanted Yul-Bayur?” 
Inej shifts. It would almost be nervous except she looks completely unapologetic. 
“Why do you want him?” 
Matthias doesn’t speak. He has no idea who this scientist is and isn’t about to divulge secret information. 
“The Death Star,” Inej says, turning to face the man. 
He pales. “They finished it?” 
“How do you know about it?” Matthias crosses his arms, but his eyes follow the indicator on the elevator as they close in on their target. The door opens directly to the flight platform which is blessedly empty of guards. He stands with one foot out so the door won’t close and face the scientist. 
“I worked on it.” 
“We got word from a pilot that there was a way to destroy it.” 
Inej is too trusting. Matthias is ready to leave. 
“Yes, but how do you know this?” The man asks. “I was unable to pass that information along.” 
“You?” Inej laughs, throwing her head back and then throws her arms around the man. “Of course you did, Papa.”
That finally connects the dots for Matthias. He can’t let himself get distracted. If this is the scientist which has the information they need, then they need to get out of here even more now. He turns toward Brum’s personal shuttle. There are two other ships in close proximity - his guard ships. But they only need one. 
“Come on,” Matthias interrupts as he starts toward the main shuttle. 
Inej turns around and stabs one of her knives into the control panel, effectively destroying it in a single motion. It’s clever. He should have thought of it, should have realized. But the more important goal is to get out of here. 
Halfway across the tarmac, Matthias hears the shot. 
Inej’s scream pierces the air and the world stops as he spins around to see her father collapse to the ground. 
<hr>
 Nina regrets her choice as soon as she steps out into the cold, lashing rain. The wind rips at her braided hair. It slaps against her face and lands askew. Her boots are filled with water through the little leaks she never bothered to patch while living on Jedha. It was unnecessary on a desert planet, after all. 
Her robes whip around her and the darkness blinds her to her surroundings. Nina shuts her eyes and lets the Maker guide her steps on the uneven terrain. She knows Inej and Matthias are likely fine on their own. Something calls her forward. It demands she walk into the abyss. It’s a call she’s used to answering. 
She’s helpless to fight it. 
Nina learned it’s best to trust these moments of intuition, even as it annoys Zoya, Kaz, Matthias, and everyone she’s ever served with. It’s part of her unique times. 
The door to the base is ajar, likely propped open for breaks for onsite personnel, the kind that balks protocol and that is largely unknown save by those who frequent it. The site is abandoned in favor of responding to the intruder alarm. The door opens inward to soldier barracks and Nina quickly sheds her robes to change into the standard armor of a foot soldier, unnoticeable in the best of times. It’s the perfect disguise. 
The helmet is almost suffocating as she drops it over her head. The visor allows her startlingly little light to see by, probably as troopers are to be feared rather than effective. Nina lifts her bladder and proceeds into the hallway, falling into step with troopers moving rapidly in one direction. 
“Intruders at the West Entrance. Assistance has been requested.” 
“Belay that order. Platoon B divert to General Brum.” 
Nina follows the example of the troopers around her and salutes to the man who orders their change in objective. She’s part of the Rebellion. She knows the name Brum. Apprehension sends a shiver down her spine at the name of the man famous for rooting out and murdering Rebel spies. That Matthias served directly under him only adds to her anxiety. 
Brum himself meets her new platoon at the elevator with a scowl. It’s the first time Nina has ever seen the man in person but the frosty expression is reminiscent of her first days in Jedha with Matthias in his Druskelle idiocy. He stands stiff and tall, frosty in a way that Nina thinks he never learned to smile. 
“Intruders are headed to my private shuttle. Detaining them alive is preferable. Dead is acceptable. One former Druskelle, one girl, and Scientist Ghafa. THey must not be allowed to escape.” 
Again they salute with terrifying synchronicity. 
“Two of you, with me,” he orders as he steps into the lift. “The rest of you, take the stairs.” 
Thank the Force, Nina finds herself nearest the elevator doors and she steps in alongside another faceless trooper. One the ride, she focuses on her breath instead of her proximity to the man known to have murdered her comrades. Idly she wonders if her breath could fog up the inside of her helmet, if her breath was labored enough. 
She exits the lift alongside the other trooper, finger carefully on the trigger. She calls on the Force to protect Matthias and Inej. Briefly, she considers turning on Brum but the Force screams at her to follow this course of action. She doesn’t understand but she trusts it to guide her in her actions. 
There are already troopers on the platform, firing on Matthias, Inej and the scientist. She swore Jesper was the one with the scientist, not Inej. She watches as the scientist falls to a well-placed shot. Her resolve to listen to the Force almost breaks when she realizes that Inej and Matthias aren’t going to reach the shuttle without further casualties. A moment later, the Rebel spy ship emerges from the darkness of Eadu and rains down shots to cover their retreat. 
The troopers move for cover as Matthais and Inej carry the scientist over their shoulders and race for the ship. It looks almost comical - a man strung between the tall Matthias and the tiny Inej. Nina herself isn’t pleased at the arrival of the ship she swears she just saw fly off with the intent to leave them behind. 
It would appear Kaz and Inej are still doing the same circular dance of flirtation without addressing their own issues and feelings. 
“Bring that ship down!” Brum screams, as if the troopers’ meagre blasters could somehow penetrate the ship’s shield. 
“If I may, sir,” NIna says tentatively enough while still playing the obedient trooper. One with a brain. “Perhaps pursuit would be more successful.” 
Brum stares a moment before he once again starts barking orders. It looks like she’s getting off this rock anyway. The Force still has some use for her after all.
<hr>
They were out. They were minutes from freedom. 
The words are on repeat in her head as Inej drops to the ground beside her father. Rain soaks through her clothes as she pulls her father into her lap. His hand wraps around hers with surprising strength. In the background, she can hear Matthias shouting, the pew pew pew of blaster fire, and then something that sounds like Kaz’s rasp which makes no sense. They should have taken off by now, maybe even be out of the atmosphere. 
“Stardust,” her father whispers. His hand reaches up to brush dripping wet hair from where it hangs in her face. “Scarif...you must go to Scarif…” 
“You’re coming with us,” she whispers. Tears blur her eyes as she tries a watery smile. A hand grips her shoulder and abruptly the rest of the world comes back into sharp relief. She feels each drop of rain from the sky, the sizzle of hot laser blasts hitting water, and Jesper’s plea for her to move. “I’m not leaving him!” 
Matthias grumbles in a different language as he fires off another couple of shots. Jesper circles Inej to throw her father’s arm over his shoulders. Inej rushes to help her. Her father grunts as they shift him. He’s too injured to help them as they half carry, half drag him towards the shuttle. 
Kaz would have her head if he knew they were risking everything to bring her father with them. Her orders were to get the scientist out of there. If Jesper already got one, then they could have left her father behind. It’s her sentimentality. That’s what he would blame it on. 
Inej’s free hand wraps around the necklace tied around her throat. For so long it was the only memento she had of her family. She prays to the Force, to the long forgotten religion of her people as she staggers under her father’s weight. They can do this. 
Her feet land on a metal incline and Inej pushes herself to get to the flat of the ship. Matthias slams on the button to close the doors and Jesper slips out from his position holding Inej’s father up to race to the cockpit.
Only Inej’s superior sense of balance and upper body strength allow her to keep her father from dropping to the floor. Kaz slides over to take Jesper’s place as the shuttle leaves the tarmac. It rocks dangerously as they get her father to a bench. He groans as he lands hard on the unforgiving surface. 
“Matthias, I need you on the guns!” 
Inej blocks it all out as she focuses on her father, drinking in the lines on his face. “I’m here, Dad. We’re gonna help you.” Her eyes land on a med kit Kaz drops beside her. She throws it open to gaze at the contents they haven’t replenished in far too long. She rips his jacket open to find where the blaster shot landed. Her father’s hands fumble to help her only to still her hands. She frowns and looks up at him. 
“Papa-” 
“Listen, Stardust. The Death Star. There’s a way to stop it. A weakness…exhaust port...plans are on Scarif...your mother…” 
“You need to save your strength,” Inej whispers. His hands fall from hers, suddenly weightless. With one hand Inej claws through the med kit, her hands landing on bacta patches. She pulls his shirt back and desperately presses the medication to the wound. 
“You can’t leave me like this, Papa. I just got you back. I can’t lose you again. Not like this. I need you. You’ve got to meet Jesper...and Kaz. Jesper will make you laugh like you’ve never laughed before. Kaz is a bit harder but I think you’ll like how much he cares. He’s been looking for you, you know. You’re going to be okay.” 
She scrambles for the serum that will put him in stasis until they make it back to base. If there’s a chance to save him, it will happen there. Tears are hot on her cheeks. Inej presses her lips to his hands. They don’t grip hers back as he succumbs to the serum. His whole body goes slack under her hands, his eyes shut. The fight slips away from him. Inej loses her own battle and sobs in earnest. One hand finds her father’s pulse. Tension weeps from her body as she feels the faint flutter under her fingers. He’s still alive for now.
The motion of the shuttle smoothes out as the shuttle goes into lightspeed. 
“Inej-” 
Kaz’s voice is cut off as she looks back up at him. She stares at him, finally processing what his presence here means. “You came back.”
Inej forces a deep breath and pulls back from her father. She swipes at the tears on her face. Air won’t come easily. She wrestles with it as Kaz kneels beside her. Matthias returns from where he was manning the weapons. With surprising gentleness, he arranges Inej’s father on the bench, and checks his pulse again. He checks the bacta pack and nods. Inej rises to her feet and takes deep breaths. She tries to reboot her mind, to get it to focus on what the next step is. There’s something she need to be doing but all she can think about is what she just found that was then almost ripped unceremoniously from her grasp. 
They must have done it: gotten away from Eadu in one piece. Her eyes drift from her friends, her heart swelling with warmth only for her gaze to land on the newcomer. She feels ugly emotion rise in her chest as her eyes take in this scientist who was allowed to just walk away while her father is…
Inej can’t finish the thought. She shakes her head, and turns back to Kaz. There’s so much she wants to say, to ask about. The ship should have been gone and they came back. Kaz’s gloved hand slips into hers and he squeezes it. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t do anything else, but it feels like the world has shifted with that one singular motion. 
Her father is dead, but that will not be where this story ends.
<hr> 
Wylan’s hands are steady on the controls as he steers the ship into the landing field of the Rebel base. His breath is uneven in his chest and his heart feels like a jackhammer as he fears what this group will do to his already fractured psyche. He’s gotten better in the last few days - miles better than whatever it is Bor Gullet did to his brain on Jedha. It’s like his brain and body had to relearn how to communicate. 
He hasn’t told anyone that the symbols on the controls and all his displays are illegible to his mind. Struggling with reading isn’t new to him. It was one of those things his father despaired of before he shipped Wylan off to the flight academy, enraged that his son would never be an Imperial officer. Now the screens hurt his eyes. 
It doesn’t matter. He’s trained himself to fly without the assistance. It just gets in the way of good pilots most of the time. Jesper leans forward and looks over the screens, then glances at Wylan. He raises an eyebrow and falls backwards into his chair with an impressed whistle. 
“You’re not even reading the specs, are you? Are you some kind of super pilot?” 
Wylan glances sideways as he lowers the landing gear. He shrugs vaguely. The way Jesper is looking at him sends a shiver down his spine. It’s a loaded glance. He doesn’t want to look too deeply at what it means, doesn’t want to jump to conclusions about what he’s thinking. Any flirting is in his own head. 
“That’s hot.” 
Or not. Wylan frowns at him as he powers down the plane. “Are you serious, right now?” 
Jesper winks, and throws him a devilish smirk. “What can I say? Competence is a turn on.” 
“Stop flirting.” Kaz’s voice breaks through the fog in Wylan’s brain as he briefly forgets how to think. “We need to report.” 
“Aye, aye, captain,” Jesper throws back as he jumps to his feet.
“You’re ridiculous,” Wylan informs him. 
“Welcome to the Rebellion, Sunshine. Let’s go!” With more enthusiasm than he thinks is warranted, Jesper propels Wylan in front of him and out onto the dry base. He receives some interested looks, but not so many as the floating stretcher escorted by Inej and Matthias as it races into the base. 
“Will Pavel Ghafa be okay?” He asks, staring at the stretcher as it disappears. 
Jesper and Kaz both turn to look at him. Wylan wants to shrink away from their gaze. 
“How do you know Inej’s father?” Kaz demands. 
Wylan tilts his head. So that’s what he missed while flying the plane. “He was nice to me. None of the other scientists would speak to me. They…” They thought he was stupid. His first day on base, his father had made a point of shoving his face in everything he couldn’t understand by bringing him to the science labs. The joke was on him because Wylan could understand parts of it, even if he couldn’t read anything. Scientist Ghafa was the only one who noticed. Afterwards, he was the only one who continued to talk to him. “He taught me how to blow things up.” 
Jesper grins. “Damn. I like him already.” 
“Is he going to make it?” Wylan asks. 
“Did he ever tell you about his work? Anything about the Death Star?” 
Wylan pauses and tries to think about their past interactions. The memories stall. He sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. He always told me to be careful, to keep my head down. I’m sorry. I don’t know.” 
Kaz nods and turns away. He makes a bee-line for a man and a woman, both waiting by the entrance to the base. The two of them are standing still while the rest of the base moves around them. It takes a special sort of power. 
Wylan looks over at Jesper and then past him to Al Bul. Kuwei had never been particularly kind to him, or mean, really. He doesn’t know much about him at all. He wasn’t happy with the way he was coerced into helping them get rescued, largely because he ended up being interrogated by Bor Gullet. Turns out the Shu weren’t too happy with the potential ability to get back two of their own citizens. Wylan would have appreciated that knowledge before he landed in Jedha to a hostile situation. 
“Don’t worry. We’ll get this solved.” Jesper nods at something Kaz conveys with a quick hand signal. His hand moves from Wylan’s shoulder with a quick squeeze. It lands heavily on Kuwei’s shoulder and pushes him forward. “Come on, Kiwi. We got you out, so now it’s your turn to cough up what you know.” 
<hr> 
The universe is a perpetual joke. 
Jesper plays with the settings on his blasters as he sits in the dark corner of HQ while voices rise and fall in impassioned debate. Kuwei, for all his supposed knowledge, can only tell them that there’s a critical weakness in the Death Star’s defenses. It’s in the plans, which he thinks he can create from memory. The leaders of the Resistance are far less trusting of this information. Spymaster Per Haskell is angry that he’s devoted so many resources on a dead end. Inej is pushing for an expedition to Scarif, where she can recover the plans. According to her, her father knows the plans are there. Genya seems interested in the plan, but the majority of the people present are convinced of the futility of the prospect. 
They’d rather continue along their familiar routes of information gathering. Even from across the room, Jesper can tell Kaz is going to follow Inej on this. That boy will move worlds to get her what she wants. 
Jesper gets to his feet and walks away from the noise of the room. He’d better get their ride ready. Wylan Van Sunshine is the only one to recognize his exit and he falls into step with Jesper.  
“What are you planning?” 
Jesper shrugs. “What makes you think I’m planning anything?” 
“The demjin would not give in so easily.” 
His head whips around to his other side where Matthias is now standing, face set in a scowl. “I’m going to put a bell on you.” They both continue to stare at him. “Stop that. There’s no plan.” 
“There’s a plan,” Wylan says, looking at Matthias. 
“Of course, there’s a plan.” Matthias agrees. “Nina’s on Scarif.” 
Jesper laughs. “That’s quite a leap.” 
“She’s on Scarif,” Matthias repeats. 
Jesper shakes his head. There’s no possible way he can know that. There’s a whole galaxy out there where she could be, and that’s if she got off the planet. The poor guy is delusional. “Look, I know it sucks that we left her behind. The odds of her surviving the strike are not great.” 
“Brum’s shuttle left after us. It survived the strike. She was on that ship.” Matthias says tightly. 
“I want Nina to be alive just as much as you do, but there’s no way you can know that.” Jesper squints at Matthias, trying to determine what Matthias actually knows and what is just him trying to will into being.
Matthias gets a pained look on his normally stoic face. He looks up at the sky, as if he can’t believe what he’s about to say. “I would feel it if she were dead.” 
Jesper looks at Wylan, glad to see that he’s just as lost as Jesper is. Jesper runs a hand over the back of his neck with a sigh. As much as he would love to continue his unbelieving attitude, Jesper knows the truth resonates in Matthias’s words. Nina’s alive and somehow is going to be exactly where she needs to be, but Matthias isn’t in contact with her. He’s just got faith. “I hope you’re right, soldier boy.” 
“Please tell me there is actually a plan,” Matthias answers. His face is all scowly. 
“Plans are a turn on for you, aren’t they?” Jesper speculates as he looks the soldier over. “How does that work out with you and Nina?” She’s the least rule-following person he knows. She likes to improvise too much when the Force speaks to her. 
Matthias doesn’t answer. He just narrows his eyes at Jesper’s tone. Jesper bites back a smirk. He’d bet good money that the reason it works is because they’re both soldiers, who are loyal and stubborn as hell. Helvar doesn’t seem like a complete dick, and exactly Nina’s type. He really does hope he’s right about Nina. 
Jesper pushes past them both and walks towards the mess hall, where he knows the intelligence agents who are on base spend their down time. Unlike many operatives who find ways to work the Rebel insignia into their uniforms, the intelligence agents are a paranoid bunch who value their identity too much to risk their allegiance being revealed, even a Rebel base. 
Generally, the intelligence agents are known as spies or The Dregs. Kaz calls them the Crows because they go out in the galaxy and collect shiny bits of information which they hoard and return in the hopes that it might turn out to be valuable. They don’t often work in large groups but they can recognize each other. Wylan and Matthias trail behind him as he walks across the way to Rotty, who’s sitting alone and staring into his mug. 
He looks up as Jesper drops into the seat across from him. His eyes take in the three of them, assessing even as he looks half asleep. That’s part of his charm. People underestimate him. He takes them in, looks around the room and then leans forward. “This about the meeting happening right now?” 
Rotty’s good at connecting dots. 
Jesper shrugs as if to say “what can you do”. 
Rotty throws the rest of his drink back and drops his mug on the table. “Is the intelligence worth it?” 
Jesper runs a hand along this jaw and the stubble that’s starting to grow as he looks around, glancing at Wylan and Matthias. “We have confirmation the information’s on Scarif. Nina’s on the inside.” 
Rotty blinks in surprise. “Nina? Zenik? I thought…” He looks at Matthias. “So the rumors about Jedha?” 
“All true. We need to move before things get worse.” Jesper glances around the room. “It looks like the vote will go the other way.” 
The Dregs have the best blank stares. Jesper watches his eyes and the calculations going on behind them. “Kaz?” 
Jesper knows he’s got him. Rotty will help them. “Sent me to spread the word. No orders. This isn’t mandated. It has to be your choice.” 
“Who do you have so far?” 
“Kanej and these two.” 
Rotty snorts. “You’re still hoping that catches on.” 
“It’s so much easier to say than Kaz and Inej every time. When we have time, remind me to tell you about the repressed pining from this last stunt. It’s a good one.” Jesper taps the table and stands. “Spread the word. We’re leaving as soon as the meeting lets out.” 
Rotty nods. 
Jesper is two tables away when Rotty calls after him. “How do you know Zenik is on Scarif?” 
Matthias tenses. It’s comical how easy he is to read. 
“She sent an encrypted message.” Jesper reveals with a grin. Then, because he doesn’t trust the druskelle yet, he throws in a little lie. “In the ship’s lights as Brum’s shuttle left Eadu. Kuwei confirmed Brum would fall back to Mustafar and then likely Scarif to check the Death Star plans. We’re watching the old channels for updates.” 
Rotty nods. 
Matthias shakes his head as they walk out of the cafeteria. “You could have just told me that.” 
Jesper laughs. “And missed the look on your face? Never! Now, come on, Helvar, Sunshine. We’ve got a ship to prepare. Stealthily.” 
<hr> 
“We can’t take no for an answer. You know this is wrong! We have to go. There’s no guarantee Kuwei has any idea what he’s talking about. It’s all guesswork. My father nearly died getting us this information.” 
Kaz leans heavily on his cane as they leave HQ as Inej rants in his ear. It’s been awhile since he’s been the recipient of one of her rants. They’ve long accepted their own philosophical differences. He knows her well enough to understand that this is different. This is the first tangible connection she has to her family. Defeating the Death Star is now a part of his legacy and she’ll do anything to protect that. “I know, Inej.” 
“So why didn’t you say anything?! You stood silently by. You didn’t even argue for a plan that could work.” 
He rubs at his leg like that will alleviate the pain. It’s not great that it’s worse today but Kaz has worked through the pain before. It shouldn’t cause any hiccups assuming that they can get out of here before someone tries to stop them. Based on Genya’s nod as they left, he’s willing to bet that she’ll run interference. 
“They were never going to agree. Scarif is a stronghold. We haven’t been able to infiltrate before. Whoever goes in, even if they succeed in getting the plans, they would likely die.” The words are harsh. They have to be. He can’t have anyone doubting the risks involved. 
“It would be worth it.” Inej’s eyes are fire, pure passion. It does funny things to his heart beat. She’s a woman meant to live life to the fullest. She’s never more beautiful than when her whole heart is devoted to something she cares about. 
Kaz holds her gaze for a minute and then nods. “I agree. That’s why Jesper’s collecting the Crows.” 
He struggles with a smile at the shock and warmth in Inej’s gaze, the way her lips part in surprise. The him of several years ago wouldn’t have made this choice. He turns away from her and continues to walk. His smile would come out if he continued to look at her. A few years ago, he wouldn’t have let this melt the ice around his heart, but he’s started to let people in again. It’s a strength as much as a weakness. 
“We’re going?” She speeds up to walk in front of him, turning so she can face him as she walks backwards. “Why didn’t you say anything?” 
“If you didn’t fight for your father, Haskell would have been suspicious. He would have grounded us.” 
Her eyes sparkle and another little bit of ice melts.  Her hand reaches out like she’s going to reach for her hand. Kaz’s chest is tight - both with desire for her closeness and in fear of contact. Slowly telegraphing her movements, Inej’s hand lands on his forearm. He stops in the middle of the hallway. The bile he expects doesn’t overwhelm him. Instead, it feels almost nice. He relaxes into it as he drinks in her gaze. She smiles at him. 
“Thank you.” 
He shrugs. He only did what had to be done. Kaz slowly turns his hand over and pulls it back so that their hands meet, fingers intertwining. He stares at the contact and wonders briefly what it would feel like without the gloves between their skin. He wants to be brave enough to push himself to that point but he’s not ready for that yet. 
He loosens his grip and lets their hands slip apart before he starts walking, glancing around the hallway. Per Haskell has his eyes on them despite being engaged in conversation with Genya in the entrance to the conference room. 
“We need to get out of here before we get locked down.” 
Inej nods. “Right.” She pulls away and they start to walk down the hall again. 
Kaz’s tensions relax when they reach the hangar and see the Crows all milling around the shuttle, looking inconspicuous for the moment in the bustle of people, but he knows it’s not long before they start attracting attention. His eyes flit to each familiar face. They acknowledge the silent signal and all head toward the shuttle. 
It’s a tight squeeze, done nearly silently. It isn’t until he’s moving toward the cockpit when he hears the agitated back and forth of two dissenting voices. 
“You’re doing it wrong. We’re never going to get out of here with that clearance code.” 
There’s an annoyed huff. “Well then, you’re in charge of the code. I can handle the flying.” 
“It’s my ship. I’m the pilot, Sunshine.” 
Kaz reaches the entrance to see both Wylan and Jesper at the controls. 
“You don’t fly like an Imperial pilot. They’re going to notice.” Wylan glares at Jesper and bats his hand away from the control he’s reaching for. “Just focus on the codes.” 
Jesper leans forward. “You know, it’s kind of hot how you take charge.” 
Kaz clears his throat. He ignores the way Wylan’s skin flushes and Jesper’s predatory grin. “Time to fly.” 
Engines hum to life, shortly followed by a radio static call. “Imperial Ship, you have not been cleared for take off. Please state your call sign.” 
Wylan and Jesper look at each other in alarm. It’s almost comical. Jesper, only slightly less useless in this situation grabs the radio. “Oh, right. Tower, this is Rogue...One.”
Kaz closes his eyes at the stupidity. Even Wylan looks pained. Jesper however forges ahead. 
“Rogue One, taking off.” 
He closes the radio connection as Wylan maneuvers the shuttle into the air and they head off into uncertain danger. Kaz glances back at Inej. She meets his gaze with the same stoic determination. At least they’re in this together.  
...
Keep an eye out for Part III coming out next week!
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