𝕬𝖗𝖘𝖔𝖓𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖘 𝕷𝖚𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖇𝖞 - [𝗞𝗮𝘇 𝗕𝗿𝗲𝗸𝗸𝗲𝗿]

𝐥. 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘦

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐘 — heart in a vice

━━━━━━━

 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊. They had been sailing for an entire week before the ship grew closer to the Northern Coast of Fjerda. Aleksa had awoken early that morning, elbows planted on wooden railings as the Ferolind continued over chilly waves, sailing them with bitter air stinging at the sails.

 But it was nightfall, come their arrival, and looking ahead, everything was white bar the black jagged rocks lining the pebbled shore. The mountains were blanketed in snow. The ground had layers upon layers of soft-looking frost that Aleksa was certainly looking forward to stomping her boots into.

 There were a few little huts along the shore, makeshift piers stretching into the sea. Coils of ropes, old nets and boxes of the villagers' fresh catches lined the wooden and wonky piers. A small whaling community; people who'd sail the seas and haul back their catches only to wrap them up and ship them to Djerholm for a pretty penny.

 With twilight stretching high above their heads, the Ferolind would be safe and sound to dock without the risk of being spotted. Aleksa relished in the nighttime air, the feeling of shadows thriving beneath the moonlight. It was easier to travel at night, without the sun bouncing from ice and snow until they were blind... but it made it far easier to keep them covered, should some unfortunate Fjerdans stumble upon the crew.

 The worst of it was the temperature. Fjerda was freezing, and that was saying something if Aleksa thought the air to be chilly. She had goosebumps on her arms when they'd drawn closer, and it hadn't taken long to disappear below deck and shuffle on her coat. Still, what was it she'd said to Inej the day they'd met? I run hot. That was still true, and hopefully, it would keep her toasty while her Crows found their feathers laden with ice.

 Aleksa had to admit that Fjerda, while a wasteland of nothing but snow and ice... was rather beautiful. It almost looked untouched as the mountains capped with white crawled to the sky, as the snow continued to fall and fill in the footprints formerly stamped into the land.

 Aleksa turned to Matthias as he stood by her side — though there was certainly a great gap between the two — in utter silence, "I have to admit, Fjerda is quite pretty."

 Matthias blinked, arms unfurling from smothering his broad chest as he brooded. He rested his palms atop the railing, surprised to have heard a compliment from the Grisha, "Yes."

 He missed it, that much was clearly obvious from the utter solemness of his tone. Aleksa knew the betrayal of his home still stung deeply within his heart... and she couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, it felt similar to the guilt within Aleksa's stomach. The guilt that had brewed when Aleksander's truth had come to light; if she had stayed, would things have been different?