𝕾𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖉𝖘 - 𝙺𝚊𝚣 𝙱𝚛𝚎𝚔𝚔𝚎𝚛

XV

Kaz was awake again. Tomorrow they would leave the ship and finally set foot on Fjerdan soil, so the plan was supposed to be done hours ago.

He rubbed his leg absentmindedly, the colder weather aggravating it.

A thunk from outside the door, followed by curses and a shuffling of feet. Mira was awake. Almost every night she would wake up and take a turn around the deck. Tonight she was louder than normal.

He grunted as he took his foot off its rest and stood, pushing the door open. It creaked, but the sound was drowned out by the constant sound of the waves. It was nauseating.

He climbed the stairs, each step accompanied by the thunk of his cane on the wood panels.

Kaz stops when he sees her, that infuriatingly light jacket the only thing she brought to ward off the northern night's chill.

"What is it this time? The incinerator's broken so I have to summon the sea and drown them all? Jesper has to tear the castle down brick by brick? Any other impossible tasks you need done?" Her voice is biting, almost as cold as the land they were going to. He supposed it was fair, considering how he got her here.

"Improbable."

He shouldn't feel anything when he hears her take a deep breath and the soft clink as she sets her water tin down. "Brekker-"

"Coronach," he interrupts her.

She turns, and her ice-blue eyes nearly knock the breath out of him. "What do you want?"

"I want my share of thirty million kruge." He takes a step closer, not within reach-he doesn't trust her to not kill him yet. "You should be asleep. We won't get much rest in the wilderness."

"Don't pretend to be concerned for me. You said it yourself, all you want is your money."

Wrong, he thinks. I want you. I nearly had Rotty turn us around so I could find the bastard who shot you and kill him again myself. This worries Kaz, so he stuffs the thoughts in a box and pushes them into whatever dark closet in his mind still has space. "I protect my investments."

The glare she gave him could have leveled all of Ketterdam.

She pushes past him and stomps back down to her cabin. He releases the breath he knew damn well he had been holding and sits down on one of the boxes of supplies. He didn't know what reason had prompted him to come here instead of continuing to plan. That was a lie. He did know. And the reason had just practically called him a saints-forsaken bastard with one look and was fuming.

He heard what she said the other night, about her family. It made him think of Jordie, and thinking of Jordie made him think of Pekka Rollins, which made him think about the attack on the harbor, and he was thinking about Mira again. He sighs, pulling out a deck of cards and shuffling them mindlessly. Kaz lifted them off Spect earlier in the day. It was the cards they were playing with earlier. He stares at them. If I took off my gloves- he stops the thought before it can form. He wasn't supposed to be thinking about how he could be touching something she touched, it wasn't that deep. He pushes that whole line of thinking away and tries to focus on the task at hand. Breaking into a palace that had never been broken into before when his Spider is injured, his Tidemaker wants to kill him (while he is [not] feeling emotions towards said Tidemaker), the two former lovebirds he has want to kill each other, the son of a merchant whose first job is this, and Jesper.

Shit.

~̴~̴~̴~̴~̴~̴~̴

He was back in his cabin, staring at the plan like it would fly away and come back with Bo Yul-Bayur. It just stayed on the table like regular paper.

It was past midnight and he had gone back to go over the plan again before they landed and he had to present it. He'd spent the last hour memorizing details he already knew because what awaited him in sleep was even worse.

Flashes of cold water and dead flesh rise in his senses. His fists clench, the leather flexing with his fingers. The sensation draws him away bit by bit.

Jordie would warn him to stay away from Mira. She was terrifying, dangerous, the personification of the horror that hides in the darkest places in the alleyways.

Sorry Jordie, but so have I. He pours himself two fingers of bitter whiskey and backs it before taking the two steps it takes to get to his bed.

As he lies there drifting off, he thinks about heists, drowning, and the girl that can make both happen.

A/N...

ignore how short it is, I have a fear of writing from existing character's POVs, pls lie and tell me I did good

I am also very tired but THAT'S OKAY so you get under 1k words, sorry

ANYWAYS, idk if when you're reading this Five Fingers Up has come out, but either way go check out Larrythebus driver and bluebellbouquets (girl if you changed imma laugh so fucking hard) they have some amazing fics and are wonderful people who have been very supportive

love all of you <3

-Child