Chapter Text
The moonlight casts a low glow over the master bedroom when the house welcomes a third and final presence inside.
It’s always surprising how quickly Kaz’s body and mind adapts to the country whenever he comes back to his childhood home. Despite spending most of his life in the city, there’s still a shift between Brekker and Rietveld depending on his surroundings.
In Ketterdam, he is the hardened mastermind and cunning Dirtyhands, running the Barrel with an iron fist, with no time to do anything but keep climbing the power ladder. Nothing pleases the Bastard of the Barrel, Kaz hears them whisper. Nothing will ever be enough.
(Little do they know he has everything he needs with his wife and child by his side).
He seems like a completely different person when he’s back in his hometown. The air carries a different scent, his surroundings offer him a deep sense of tranquility that doesn’t exist amidst the chaos of the Barrel. It’s easier for Rietveld to take over.
Not that he minds. Not anymore.
But tonight it makes him wonder about his life, the one he had before and the one he has now, how much he gained and how much he lost. If the price was fair, if it had been worth it.
No, that’s not it. It isn’t a matter of what is fair or what is not, but of what the reality actually is. Fairness isn’t real, not for people like him, not in a world like the one they lived in. Kaz had survived more than he should’ve and conquered more than he could ever imagine, including his happiness, and the pain and suffering along the way were, in a way, necessary to make him the man he is. The father and husband he is.
Sometimes, however, Kaz allows his mind to wander through the what ifs of life. Would his life be the same if every loss he suffered hadn’t gotten him there? Would Inej or Mahala even be here, with him?
It’s pointless, he knows, to think of what could’ve been. Even if nine year-old Kaz had insisted on knowing what his brother was doing with their money, it didn’t mean things would play out any differently.
Kaz had played that scenario in his head a million times already. It was a way for him to torture himself when he was at his lowest. Who and where would he be if he had managed to do something? Would Jordie still be here with him, being the best brother and friend he had always been up to the point where he became merely something to hold onto so Kaz wouldn’t drown and die as well?
Kaz sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. He can’t go there again, not now, not anymore. Concentrating on his past doesn’t do him any good, not when he has Inej and Mahala in his life, not when he is finally happy.
But his daughter’s question echoes in his mind, bringing back something Kaz hasn’t felt in quite a while. Despite everything that had happened, there is no denying that he loved his brother more than anything in the world, and there would always be a void in his chest for not having Jordie in his life.
(The Suli have a word for it, Inej told him once, years ago. It was a feeling she was quite familiar with it, when her demons came to hunt her mind and body. The memory of her childhood and how happy and safe she was in the arms of her parents, of her community, before it was all taken away from her. It wasn’t just because of the life she had, but the life she missed out on because of it.
As far as he knew, no language in the world had a word that translated it properly. Inej had told him once that it was because it was meant to be felt and not said, that melancholy yearning so strong that sometimes it hurt beyond words.)
It’s what he felt for Jordie that day. Pekka Rollins not only took his brother away from him, but his best friend. Growing up Kaz always had someone to be with, to ask questions, to play with, and it wasn’t blood that determined their affections for each other. Jordie was easy to love, easy to like, easy to be around and his very favorite person in the world. Up until the day he died, Kaz believed everything would be alright, he would be safe if he had his big brother with him.
Jordie was his best and closest friend in the small world he was a part of. And when everything became a nightmare, he was the one Kaz wanted to hold hands with and hear from that everything was going to be alright.
Kaz sighs, resting his head in his hands. That isn’t the way he thought the day was going to end, with him sulking from more than a decade of resentment towards his brother, while missing him. Inej’s mother had told him once how much a child would make a difference in their life. It had, in so many ways, but it wasn’t what she meant.
Mahala has so much of him and Inej in her, while maintaining something just so incredibly hers that it never fails to blow them away, with just one question. Was he your best friend?
As if on cue, Kaz feels it. Feels her. There’s a different shift in the air now, one that doesn’t just mean she’s here — Kaz knows Inej had arrived several minutes ago, going straight into Mahala’s bedroom. It’s a ritual of hers, every time she comes back, to go to her daughter’s room and whisper her prayers, thanking one of her saints for keeping Mahala healthy, alive and safe while she was away. For allowing her to come back to her family healthy, alive and safe as well.
When she finally makes her way to their bedroom, Kaz is still sitting in the same chair, shoes neatly put away in the corner of the room, jacket hung on the back of a chair, a few buttons of his white shirt undone, a nice contrast to the black suspenders he likes to wear when they’re in the country.
(Suspenders he knows Inej likes to use to pull him towards her at every chance she gets when they’re alone.)
“I heard you all the way from the front door,” Kaz says without looking up to meet her eyes. He’s not ready yet. “Are you losing your touch, Wraith?”
“Perhaps you’re the one losing yours, Dirtyhands,” she answers, leaning against the doorframe, a fond smile playing on her lips. “Front door unlocked, windows wide open… I think the countryside makes you soft.”
Kaz scoffs. “Hardly.”
“Those suspenders might disagree,” she argues and Kaz can’t help but roll his eyes at the comment, holding back a smile.
When his eyes finally meet hers, the world seems to stand still. His heart thumps harder, and it’s almost too hard to keep maintaining the sight of her in front of him. It’s been months — fewer than before, but still, months — since he saw her and Kaz can feel every muscle in his body relax now. She’s here, she’s back to him, to Mahala.
Inej is the one to break contact first, the exhaustion of the day finally settling on her. She had ported in Ketterdam earlier and it took almost a day’s worth of traveling to get to Lij, before making her way to the farm, a few hours over. Of course, she could get there much faster if she traveled with her ship, but it was not worth the risk of being followed to their safe haven.
“Your daughter sneaked up on me,” he says, watching as she moves around the room.
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Inej teases, removing her boots and jacket, a tender look on her face. “She’s so big, so beautiful. I know it’s been three months, but it feels like I haven’t seen her for much longer.”
He observes her for a moment, noticing the small flicker of guilt in her eyes, attempting to catch her off guard. Kaz understands the weight that rests upon Inej when she has to leave Mahala, and he can sense the guilt accumulating within her in the weeks leading up to her departure. There isn't much to be said about it, then or now. Inej must leave, and while he knows she worries that their child might forget her or harbor resentment for her absence, Kaz knows (and never fails to assure her) that none of those options are remotely possible.
“Maha wants to start measuring her height in the doorframe, like I did as a child.” Her eyebrows raise, surprised. “She asked me what the marks were in her bedroom and I told her— at least most of it. But she wants to wait for you to do them together.”
Her eyes soften at that, her lips tugging up in a smile. “So she got some of your childhood memories out of you. I don’t think even I managed to get something out of Dirtyhands that easily.”
Kaz hums, not bothered by it. Mahala is smart and she’s the child of the most dangerous people in Ketterdam; it won’t be too long before she surpasses her parents. Inej seems to come to the same conclusion, softly laughing before finally walking towards him and sitting in his lap.
It’s an entirely different feeling having her in his arms again, with the warmth of her body pressed against his and the pride that always overtakes him as soon as he realizes he doesn’t need time to get used to her touch anymore.
Sometimes it feels like a dance between them. Every move that once was practiced and performed to perfection to avoid any triggering or discomfort on both parts is now so seamlessly natural that it feels like there was never the need to practice in the first place. His hands rests firmly on her waist, pulling her closer to him, as she distributes her weight far from his bad leg, feet not touching the ground in a perfect balancing act that not even the best of performers would be able to achieve the way she does.
Kaz relishes in it, in her, so close to him, her face merely centimeters away from his, her body relaxed into his hold. He can smell the hint of salt from the sea still, a scent that became so hers over the years that just walking near the harbor makes him think of her.
Slowly, she slides her arms around his neck, one hand burying deep in the longer parts of his hair. She pulls it slightly, making Kaz quietly sigh against her skin. How he missed that, how he missed her.
“You haven’t cut it in a while,” she whispers, softly combing it through with her fingers, and Kaz melts at the touch, his eyes closing immediately. His hair hasn’t been touched for months now, not since she left, and he hadn’t dared to try and cut it himself like he used to do when they were young. Inej mostly takes care of it for him now.
She is much better equipped to handle a pair of scissors than he ever was, but the truth is that Kaz enjoys the entire process of her cutting his hair: from the way she gently runs her fingers through his locks, massaging his scalp, to the warm feeling of a new level of intimacy conquered between them.
“I didn’t think you’d appreciate me ruining your hard work, dear.”
She hums at that, her fingers slowly moving from his nape to his cheek, so gently and yet with just about the right kind of pressure to keep him anchored in that moment with her. For a moment there’s only them and silence, the tension between one another so palpable and fragile that even the smallest movement would be able to break it, and it’s one of his favorite feelings in the world.
Kaz can hear his heart thundering in his ears, waiting for what will come next. Inej is there, pressed against his chest, her warm breath tickling his cheek for a while, and it’s another dance they’ve done before, one he knows all the movements for, but it still catches him by surprise when she starts to move her face closer and brush her lips against his in a tender kiss.
This first one only lasts a few seconds, a tentative kiss, gently exploring each other’s mouths, rediscovering the familiar contours of each other’s lips. Inej smiles as she pulls back, her nose gently bumping his. It’s too easy to lean in and capture her lips once again, but this time in a deeper kiss, savoring every inch of her lips.
Kaz suddenly becomes aware of every inch of his body, burning with warmth, desire, a deep longing that he knows will never go away, not even if she was to stay forever in his arms. Her body melts against his as his hand traces a delicate path along her spine. Kaz can feel her heartbeat against his own, beating rapidly and strong, almost as if it was trying to tell him I’m here. I’m here.
Gheezen, he had missed her.
When his eyes open, the most beautiful picture awaits in front of him. Her hair slightly messy, with his fingers still buried in it, her cheeks flushed in a delightful way that only brings him more pleasure and her kiss swollen lips smiling down at him, content, satisfied, happy. It’s maddening. She is maddening and he loves every bit of it.
“Welcome home, my dear,” he whispers, closing his eyes in pleasure.
“I’ve missed you,” she whispers back, bumping her nose against his before meeting his lips in a brief kiss. He wants to reach out again, pull her impossibly closer to him and lose himself in her touches, her kisses, her being, anything and everything she would allow him, to try and make up for the time they had been apart.
It wasn’t too long this time, not like before. Her journeys aren’t as lengthy as they used to be when they were younger, not since Mahala was born. Two months, three at most, is the amount of time she allows herself to be away from their child, from her husband, staying much longer after that.
But even so, it doesn’t take too much for him to become helpless with the void left by not having her by his side. It doesn’t matter if it’s a week or a year, the feeling is exactly the same.
“How were things while I was away?”
“As expected. The clubs are growing, the pigeons are getting dumber, and we’re richer than ever.”
“I wouldn’t expect less coming from you,” she says, giving him an unimpressed glare, but smiling nonetheless. “Anything else worth sharing?”
He snorts. “Your husband is fine. Like I said, richer than ever. Your daughter is up to her nose in mischief, as per usual. Lately she’s been trying to catch me off guard when I’m in my office, hoping I won’t notice her entering, imitating you. I would love to say she’s been progressing in her artwork but you wouldn’t want me to perjure myself.”
She laughs at that and it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. Kaz knows it amuses her how cynical he can be when talking about such domestic topics of conversation as if they were merely business reports. “How disappointing our four year old hasn’t surpassed De Kappel yet. I had such high hopes. Especially considering neither of her parents are well versed in it as well.”
“Indeed,” he says, pulling her closer. “You’ll be getting a drawing of your ship tomorrow morning, as a matter of fact.”
“Thank you for the heads up,” she whispers, leaning forward and resting her lips on his temple.
Her hands move to his hair once again, fingers running through his dark hair, tracing a path along his scalp with her nails. It’s funny to think of how much she teases him for having a special interest in her hair, when she’s the one who finds any and every opportunity to touch his. Not that he minds.
Inej’s touch is like balm, easing every tension, filling him with a new sense of calmness and respite he only has whenever she is by his side.
“Tell me about how she sneaked up on you,” she asks, her voice a tender murmur, as her fingertips still caress his scalp.
He pauses, still with his eyes closed, considering. “She brought up Jordie. Made me think of him differently. In a way I knew to be true but never thought or vocalized before.”
“Oh.” She strokes his cheek, thumb brushing over the scars left by the firepox. Now that he is getting older, somehow, they look better on his face. “A good way?”
“Yes.”
She doesn’t say anything for a moment, and Kaz doesn’t explain it further. He can’t even if he wanted him to — there are still so many things he needs to think about, to understand and resolve between himself and his brother, even after all these years. He’s certain that Inej would help him get there, find some new perspective behind these new feelings stirring inside of him, but he doesn’t want that. Not now. Not yet.
“She’s a lot like you, you know?” Inej says instead, moving his hair away from his face. It’s not something he usually hears from people— Mahala’s the spitting image of her mother, from head to toe, but one of Inej’s favorite things to do is to point out all the small details that are entirely his.
“I’ve been told so, once or twice,” he says, smirking. “What is it this time?”
“You too sneak up on people with your observations, and questions, leaving them with a lot on their minds,” she points out, voice soft. “Mama used to tell me when I was growing up: Nobody trips over mountains. It’s the small pebbles that cause you to stumble.”
Kaz hums, brows raising at her. “You’d think you’d run out of these Suli wisdom proverbs after all these years, my dear, but they seem endless.”
She kisses his jaw tenderly. “We are very wise people, my love.”
“I suppose you are,” he replies, voice laced with sincerity. “So is she. My girls.”
Inej rolls her eyes fondly, resting her head on top of his. Kaz relishes in the comfort and closeness that envelopes them, feeling a wave of warmth wash over him as she slowly rocks them gently, feeding the longing inside of him until it evaporates.
The world before him seems to disappear, and no thought or worry dares to cross his way, because all that matters is that Inej is in his arms, safe and alive, in their home. There will be time for all the questions and all the stories they will share with one another tomorrow, all the strategies they need to plan for her next voyage, whenever that might be, the business they need to run, the daughter they need to raise and love.
But tonight, there is only him and Inej and that is all that matters.
Opening his eyes, Kaz turns his head to meet Inej’s gaze once again. Her eyes hold a flicker of hesitance before him, something he isn’t accustomed to seeing from her. Not for a long time.
Yet, within that hesitance, there is also a glimmer of hope, of excitement of something more.
“Inej?”
“It’s a new look on you, being caught off guard. I just hope I’m present the next time it happens.”
“You underestimate me, dear. The odds of that happening again are as good as Rotty’s flirting attempts succeeding.”
“Was it merely luck then?” Inej asks. “Maha surprising you?”
“Indeed, it was.”
“Is that so?”
He studies her face for a moment. She’s wearing the kind of smile he could recognize anywhere, one that she usually reserves for these moments with just the two of them. It’s a smile that reaches her eyes, making them sparkle with the love and kindness only she has.
In that moment, he feels his own heart stir with a mix of adoration and love. He doesn’t need to know the reason behind that expression and smile, not really. As long as she keeps looking at him that way, with all the happiness she can muster, it’s good enough for him.
“Would you like to wager on that?” she asks, drawing his attention back.
“Somehow, I believe the odds are in my favor.”
“Kaz,” she whispers, her hand cupping his face, thumb brushing his cheek. Time seems to stay still as he watches her, and somehow, he knows it. He knows what’s coming before she can even utter the words, he knows before he even realizes it.
Nonetheless, the words hit him like a brick wall as soon as she says them.
“I’m pregnant.”