The Love of a Crow - Wesper/Crows Fanfiction/AU

1. Introduction

Hi, I hope you enjoy reading this! This is based off of the Six of Crows Duology from Leigh Bardugo's brilliant Grishaverse, and most characters you will meet are from her. Chapters will vary in length, along with the days and times I post. And with that, welcome! 

Jesper:

Saints, it stinks here.

But Jesper Fahey had gotten used to the smell of a city rotting in on itself, and he breathed it in almost as a comfort, allowing it to open up his senses so the adrenaline could pump through. After all, it wasn't everyday you were sent to assassinate someone.

Shadows danced drunkenly as he sauntered through the streets of West Stave, head high, whistling a discordant tune, fingers flickering over his belt just in case a street rat got any ideas. Finally he made it to his stop.

The tannery was a large, grimy building with a creaky ceiling and breaking doors. The stench of raw chemicals was almost enough to make him turn around and get some other lousy barrel rat to do it, but this mission had come straight from Kaz, and if that meant anything, it meant that this person was obviously important. Important enough for someone to pay one million kruge to kill him.

Just as Jesper was soaking up the imaginary scent of money a bell rang shrill through the night. He smiled. It was time.

The doors creaked open and gradually a procession of people filed out, their ripped clothes stained with dye, faces sunken and sad. Jesper couldn't help notice how they matched their work building. 

Casually he walked towards the crowd, not bothering to check his purse was safe, but instead flashing a pearl-handled revolver from beneath his jacket. Not like I have any money anyway, he snorted. This would definitely be worth it.

The group trudged wearily down the darkened streets of Ketterdam, some breaking off to join bundles of people lying in the street, others making sure they weren't followed before sneaking into an apartment block. Still Jesper continued, still whistling tunelessly, but in his mind a trickle of worry was starting to grow.

Who was the person he was hunting? And how was he supposed to tell which one they were?

Kaz's words drifted back into his head;

"You'll know him when you see him."

Yeah, he growled. That's definitely not cryptic at all.

Eventually they got to a wider path overlooking the grey waters of Ketterdam, their murky waves lapping lifelessly against the edge. A huge chunk of the crowd broke off down a wide crossroad jutting out in the path, and Jesper was about to follow when a flash of red caught his eye.

A boy had snuck away from the crowd and was sneaking down a narrow alleyway barely noticeable in the dark. It was obvious he was trying not to be seen, and was failing miserably. Jesper would have laughed if Kaz's words weren't echoing in his head. 

You'll know him when you see him.

Jesper smirked. He had found his target.

The charade of Jesper casually following the boy and the boy thinking he wasn't being seen went on for another twenty minutes before Jesper knew it was time to make his move. They were making their way towards East Stave now, but far enough away that a gang wouldn't notice the boy or pay any attention to him. Where had this boy come from?

The streets were empty now, and Jesper could practically smell the fear leaking off the boy like the stench of old jurda. It was obvious to any normal barrel rat that Jesper was following him, as he failed to possess Inej's skill of secrecy, and he knew the boy would be able to feel the eyes at the back of his throat if he were smart at all.

Not a native then, Jesper observed. Maybe a foreign runaway? A newcomer who got on the wrong side of a Barrel Boss? A lost prince fleeing from a broken and forgotten kingdom? As if!

No matter how many stories Jesper told himself none of them seemed to add up. There was something strange about the boy. But he wouldn't waste his time trying to figure it out.

Almost as he thought it the boy suddenly stopped, and Jesper struggled to contain the curse on his tongue. As quick as he could he ducked behind a pile of rubbish, praying he hadn't been seen. For a while the street remained silent, apart from a mewl of a cat and the boy's heavy breathing.

He had been seen.

The boy's steps quickened into a speed-walk, his attempt at being subtle completely blown. Jesper did curse then, and that was when an idea sprung up at him. This was going to be fun. 

As slowly as he could muster he rose to his feet, purposely tripping over them as he stumbled from his hiding spot. His eyes turned droopy, and he mustered enough colour to his cheeks as he could before beginning his song.

"Oh he's a jolly good fellow, oh he's a jolly good fellow, oh he's a jolly good..."

Jesper's voice was shrill and slow against the empty night as he tumbled forward, acting as the perfect drunkard fresh from a bar. So perfect, in fact, that the boy froze and whirled around, gazing at Jesper like he was a statue in a museum.

Now that he was closer Jesper could see the boy clearly. He was indeed sporting a bright head of orange and blonde curls that reminded Jesper of silky sheeps' wool. He was short, which gave the impression he was younger than he actually was, as Jesper could tell that the boy wasn't much younger than himself. It wasn't the pale skin or the crown of freckles just above the nose that amazed Jesper. It was the eyes; such a bright, clear blue that for a moment he was frozen in time. So many things reflected in those eyes, yet there was nothing from Ketterdam in them. They were the tallest ocean wave, the arch of a Zemeni sky. They would have been the most beautiful thing Jesper had ever seen. If they weren't etched in fear.

Suddenly he was brought back to Ketterdam, to the stink of its people, to the clack of Kaz's cane on concrete, and finally to the soft roll of Makker's Wheel. That was what he was here for. The money. And he wasn't going to wait for it any longer.

The boy took a step back. And Jesper pounced.

Instinctively the boy started back, not having a chance to cry out before Jesper had him pinned to the wall, a pearl-handled revolver already spinning in his hand.

"Please don't make this difficult, I've had a very long day." He whispered, grinning.

For a moment the boy was still, and Jesper was lost in those eyes again. Then he felt pain shoot up his thigh as the boy kicked it with surprising strength. It wasn't much, but it was enough. He twisted out of Jesper's grasp and began sprinting down the alleyway again.

Jesper groaned. "And here I was thinking this was going to be easy," he murmured before jogging after him. "Kaz is gonna owe me."

The boy was slow, and in a matter of seconds Jesper had him by the collar, twisting him round and wrapping his hands around the boy's pale throat.

"Shame you didn't quit while you were ahead." Jesper said. "I was going to go easy on you." 

The boy kicked and squirmed but Jesper held fast, tightening his grip, feeling the frantic pulse on the boy's neck.

Truth be told, he hated killing people this way. It gave him no joy if the ring of a bullet couldn't be heard. But it was too late, and now he just wanted to get it over with as soon as possible.

The boy's struggling hits and slaps were becoming weaker, his breath now coming out in a choky rasp. Jesper was surprised he was still fighting. Maybe he had underestimated the boy.

All at once the boy gripped his hand so strongly Jesper nearly let go. A bolt like lightning seemed to fire through his arm, sending a familiar shock through him that he only ever got when bending metal, or feeling the movement of a bullet. It was a feeling he both hated and loved.

Jesper looked up at the boy. His eyes were wide, but not with fear, but something else. Something new. As if he had felt the shockwave too. The blue seemed so clear against his pale skin suddenly, that Jesper felt the world go dark as the boy's eyes closed. As he slipped away.