𝕬𝖗𝖘𝖔𝖓𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖘 𝕷𝖚𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖇𝖞 - [𝗞𝗮𝘇 𝗕𝗿𝗲𝗸𝗸𝗲𝗿]

𝐱𝐱𝐯. 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘳, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘭

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 — the liar, the fool

━━━━━━━

 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐒 had clambered beneath the deck, settling into the darkness that would hopefully keep them safe from both the Darkling and the Volcra. There was only the tiniest sliver of dull light spewing from an old oil lamp above their heads; it washed them all in a horrible yellow glow.

 They could still hear the chattering of those above, the light footsteps that would cause the wood over their heads to creak and groan beneath the weight; they could only hope that it was stronger than it sounded.

 Aleksa perched upon an old crate that lingered directly beneath the lamplight. She surveyed her hands, scowling at the atrocious shade of yellow that tainted her skin — it looked as though she held lit cigars for a living with fingers like those. Cas was perched on her shoulder, head stuffed away in the hair she'd pulled free. He'd almost slipped off once or twice.

 She moved onto watching Inej scrape one knife against another, doing whatever she could to ensure each blade could cut a person with a mere look. Jesper had been told to pry his pistols apart by Kaz.

 But there she sat doing nothing. Nothing she focused on could quell the hammering of her heart, nothing could lessen the anxious rope that weaved around her neck each time she thought of finally stepping closer to her brother; peering into those impossibly dark eyes after so long.

 She was scared, and she hated it.

 The feeling of sweat beading on her forehead, her yellow-washed fingers trembling; it was all too much. But it was something that needed to be done.

 She watched her crows; the divot between Inej's black brows as she concentrated on cleaning the hilt of a dagger. Jesper's tongue peeked from his lips as he focused on rubbing every inch of dust from his beloved pistols. Kaz remained still; his hands were in place around the head of his cane, and his lips were set in a thin line. He seemed to be his normal, stoic self.

 It should have been a comfort to Aleksa, but she knew him better. There was a slight tick in his jaw. His fingers twitched every now and then, light glinting from his leather glove; she should have expected it, for whilst they relied on Kaz to think of solutions and ways to escape danger... This was something even he couldn't secure.

 "This is a bad idea," Jesper said as he pouted his lips and blew a waft of air at his pistol, watching with narrowed eyes as a small ball of dust flitted through the air.

 Jesper could scarcely keep his feet still, but knowing danger lurked just around the corner, he was practically dancing along the wooden boards. Aleksa wanted to smile as their eyes met, yet she merely looked at his guns; the gleaming pistols might have saved them last time, but this time Jesper didn't have the luxury of a seemingly endless supply of bullets.