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we'll be okay (set sail for home)

Summary:

The job doesn't always go to plan, but Kaz will always be there to pick Inej up, no matter how bloody and bruised they are.

The thought of a festive dinner waiting for them at home helps, too.

Notes:

hello!!!! it has been an absolute honour to run this year's Grishaverse Secret Santa, and i loved taking part. you have all been so lovely, and i hope that my giftee likes this!!

thank you for reading, and have a happy holiday :D

 

[the playlist made for this fic]

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

As soon as she steps foot into the hallway, the hair on the back of Inej’s neck stands up. She tries to ignore it, putting it down to the nerves that she still gets for every job, even now, but they refuse to go away.

“Something’s wrong,” she says. In the corner of her eye, she sees Kaz’s grip on his cane tighten, but he doesn’t blow his cover by turning to look at her.

“What is it?” he asks, staring straight ahead. He looks almost comical in his ‘borrowed’ guard uniform, but Inej knows she probably looks equally ridiculous.

“I’m not sure,” she admits. “I can just feel it.”

It’s a lame excuse. A few years ago, Kaz would have laughed her off without a second thought. But now, after all they have been through, he isn’t so quick to question her judgement. “Well, we’ll have to be careful. If it starts going wrong, meet at The Wraith. Do you remember the plan?”

“Of course,” she answers. It had been strange to be back at the Slat after so much time at sea, but sitting on Kaz’s windowsill and committing his insane plans to memory had felt like coming home.

The door at the end of the hall swings open, the bridal party spilling out. The silent corridor fills with excited chatter as they walk past, the bride and her bridesmaids all gossiping loudly to each other. On any other occasion, Inej would laugh at their inane conversations or feel uneasy at how they might ruin her special day, but considering the woman’s wedding is paid for in the blood of slaves like her, she can’t bring herself to care.

“No mourners,” Kaz whispers, his lips barely moving.

“No funerals,” Inej replies, falling into place behind the group on silent feet. She risks a glance over her shoulder before turning the corner, but Kaz is already gone.

The Maximovich Mansion is a luxurious place, the perfect setting for a wedding - or, in this case, a heist. On their way to the foyer, Inej is sure she passes at least three paintings that could buy the freedom of a hundred girls each.

As they get closer and closer to their destination, the uneasy feeling in Inej’s stomach only gets stronger and stronger. The moment she steps foot in the entrance hall, she knows something is seriously wrong.

The door slams shut behind her with a deafening bang, but Inej stands her ground. The chatter cuts off abruptly, leaving the room in an apprehensive silence. Inej’s heart starts to beat quicker, but no emotion shows on her face. It is only when the door swings open at the top of the stairs to reveal Kaz with a gun to his head and an arm around his throat that she starts to move, taking small steps through the crowd.

“I know you’re here, Little Wraith,” Maximovich says, his thick Ravkan accent making his Kerch sound even more threatening. “Come out from your hiding place, and I’ll let this filthy thief here go. It’s you we’re interested in, not some Barrel scum.”

Kaz knows where she is, of course. An amateur would look down and seek her out in the crowd, one final glimpse when he knows they are both in danger. Kaz, however, isn’t a fool. He learnt that lesson the hard way, and Inej knows he won’t make the same mistake twice.

Instead, he carefully rearranges his hand on the arm around his neck. To anyone else, it would look like he was clawing for breath, trying to escape Maximovich’s tight grip. To Inej, however, it was a countdown. Three fingers, then two, then-

Kaz whirls into action, grabbing Maximovich’s arm and throwing him over his head and off the balcony at the top of the stairs. Inej takes three quick steps before launching herself into the air, gracefully somersaulting over some bridesmaids and grabbing hold of the long, silk curtains hanging from the ceiling. All it takes is a few swings, and she is close enough to grab Kaz’s hand, their combined weight giving them enough momentum to smash through the window.

The air swooshes through Inej’s hair as they tumble through the air together, hands still intertwined, and it feels like flying. Luckily, the window wasn’t too high up, so Inej reluctantly lets Kaz’s fingers slip from her hand, and tucks herself into a tidy roll so that she doesn’t hurt herself.

Sitting up, only a little bruised from the whole encounter, Inej turns to Kaz. “Are you okay?”

He stands up, brushing dirt from his trousers. “I’m fine,” he tells her, and they both pretend Inej didn’t see him wince.

“Come on, we should get out of here,” she says, getting to her feet. “Clearly they know who we are, and there were guards-”

“It was an ambush,” Kaz spits, taking an unsteady step on his bad leg. “They knew we were coming. I’m willing to bet Maximovich was the one who hired us. I was stupid to think-”

“Kaz,” Inej interrupts, taking his gloved hand again. “You’re probably right, but we can figure out revenge later. Now, we need to go.”

He nods, a sharp movement, and they start walking. In an ideal world, they will make their way across the illustrious estate of the Maximovichs’ land and straight onto the waiting ship, but Inej knows that that situation is close to an impossible fantasy. If Maximovich knew they were coming, then they have to assume he has found a way to stop them from leaving.

There’s a shout from around the other side of the building, and they both tuck in, watching as guards run past them. There are much more of them than Inej was expecting - clearly, she hadn’t done as much research as she had thought.

“This way,” Kaz whispers, pointing at a gap in the hedge in front of them. “If we can get through there, it should be a clear run to the ship.”

Inej frowns. “We’d have to run across the front lawn with no cover. There’s no way we won't get spotted.”

Kaz nods. “We’re going to have to hope we’re faster. They will have covered the main exits already, and if they have half a brain, they’ll be sending people to the docks by the coastal road.”

“If we go that way, we’ll be faster,” Inej says, realising Kaz is right. Annoyingly, he usually is. “It’s still risky.”

He grimaces. “Not as risky as breaking into the Ice Court.”

Inej shrugs. She can’t argue with that. “No mourners, then.”

“No funerals.”

It feels like she’s been saying that a lot, lately. Too much of this job has relied on luck, and she doesn’t like it. The hair on the back of her neck is still standing up, certain that something is going to go wrong.

Kaz pauses for a moment, waiting for an opportunity, and then he nods at Inej and they run. It isn’t too far to the bushes, and the adrenaline coursing through Inej allows her to run faster than she ever has before. With Kaz’s gloved hand in hers, she has never felt more alive, even when she is fearing for their lives.

Then, a sudden blast of air blows Inej’s braid into her face and she stumbles forward. Letting go of Kaz’s hand, she pushes the hair out of her face, just in time to see Kaz hit the ground.

She stops, only a few steps ahead and already turning back to help Kaz to his feet, but he shakes his head. “THE GUARDS ARE GRISHA!” he yells, shooing her off with one hand. “GO WITHOUT ME, I’LL CATCH YOU UP.”

Inej hesitates, not willing to leave him alone. “GO!” he yells, and with a single look back, Inej continues running towards the ship all alone.

The branches of the bushes grab at Inej’s hair and clothes, scratching her hands and face and making it impossible to see. She keeps running, desperately hoping she is heading in the right direction and praying that Kaz will be okay.

Suddenly, Inej collides with something solid and she goes tumbling to the ground. She has pulled a knife out of her belt and has rolled to her feet before she is even sure there is anyone to fight, only to come face to face with one of the Grisha guards.

They stare at each other for a moment, both of them panting for breath. “I don’t want to hurt you,” Inej says, the threat clear in her voice.

The Grisha’s face twists. “I do,” he spits, and he swings his arm up towards Inej’s face.

She easily dodges it, using her momentum to land a solid kick to the guard’s ribs. He barely grunts, already going for another hit. No matter how many times Inej dodges, he is always swinging for another blow.

Inej blocks another punch, waiting for the Grisha to try and kick her. In one swift movement, she grabs his leg and tugs, pulling him off balance. He tumbles to the ground and Inej takes the opportunity to climb on top of him, pinning him down. She holds Sankt Petyr to his throat, panting for breath.

“Surrender,” Inej demands, staring him down. She doesn’t want to kill anyone today, but she knows that her window to get on the ship is closing, and she wants to live another day.

The guard smiles before spitting blood in Inej’s face. Her face wrinkles in disgust, but she pushes the knife harder against his throat, a thin trickle of red running down the blade.

Just when Inej thinks they have come to a stalemate, the knife starts to warp beneath her hands. The blade wobbles and starts to pull away from the Grisha’s neck, even though Inej doesn’t ever move her hand.

A Fabrikator, Inej thinks, right before he sits up and throws her into the dirt.

When she was in the Menagerie, Inej became a master of detaching herself from her body and floating in the air, watching everything happening to her from afar. She does that now, watching as blow after blow after blow reins down on her, blood pouring from her nose and mouth and bruises flower on her face. None of the pain registers, every punch and kick is just a light touch.

Then, out of nowhere, a branch swings down onto the Grisha’s head, and he falls to the floor with a crash. Standing above his body is Kaz, covered in scratches and blood and struggling for breath.

He leans down, rolling Inej onto her back. “Inej? Are you okay? Come on Wraith, talk to me.”

His hand touches her cheek gently, his gloves torn into shreds by the fight, and Inej feels herself come back to her body. The pain hits her like being hit in the head with a shovel, but she forces herself to open her eyes. “Kaz.”

He smiles a little, clearly worried about her. “Hello,” he says, pressing something into her hand. “I got your knife. We can get Jesper to fix it.”

Inej sits up, Kaz helping her with a hand on her back. “Thanks for saving me.”

Kaz looks away, helping her to her feet. “We should go. They might be at the docks already.”

Inej is pretty sure he’s smiling to himself, but she just takes his hand, and they start running.

 


 

By the time The Wraith arrives back in Fifth Harbour, there’s nothing to show for Kaz and Inej’s failed mission, other than a notebook full of plans for revenge that Kaz thinks she hasn’t seen. There is no money, no freed girls, and no bruises left to remember the experience by.

There is, however, a familiar face waiting for them on the docks.

“Inej!” Jesper exclaims, bounding up to her and sweeping her up into a big hug. “You won’t believe how much food we have. You could feed the entire Slat for a month!”

She laughs, thankful for Jesper’s constant happiness. “I’m pretty sure I could manage at least half of it. I’m starving!”

“There he is!” Jesper announces, looking over Inej’s shoulder. “Kaz! You’re joining us for dinner, right?”

A few years ago, the concept would have been out of the question. Kaz, celebrating a Saint with his friends? The Crows would have laughed at the idea until they cried. But slowly, piece by piece, he has learnt to take off his armour until they could see the boy underneath.

“Of course,” Kaz says, smiling a little. “Let’s go - Specht will get the bags.”

It is only a short walk to the Van Eck mansion, but Inej has to say she is glad to be back on dry land for a while. Ketterdam seems to be the same as it always was, and she has to admit, it comforts her.

When they arrive, Wylan is waiting for them at the door, decked out in a pink apron that seems to be more flour than fabric. “It’s ready!” he announces, grinning wildly.

“Is Marya dishing it up?” Jesper asks, kissing him on the top of the head as they come into the house.

“Yep,” Wylan answers as he hugs Inej. “She insisted on making personalised place cards for everyone, so just grab a seat where your name is.”

They all wander into the dining room, and Inej is struck by the beauty of it. There is the same soft candlelight that she remembers from her childhood, mixed with the colourful electric lights of Ketterdam. The dinner table is set perfectly, and she takes a seat next to Kaz, the little place card decorated with hand painted knives and a mini version of her ship.

Jesper pours them all some wine as Wylan and Marya carry the plates of food in: steaming vegetables, some delicious smelling stuffing, and a huge turkey that takes up most of the table. She waits until everyone is sitting down, and then she offers her hand to Kaz on her right side and Marya at the head of the table.

“Thank you Sankt Nikolai for this feast,” Marya says once they are all holding hands. “May we all be blessed with good fortune and full bellies for the year ahead, and may Inej always find the waters she sails on calm and true.”

Inej smiles at the little addition that Marya had included, squeezing her hand as a silent ‘thank you’ before letting go.

The Feast of Sankt Nikolai had been a big deal when she was a child; everyone would come together, bringing their own families’ traditions and recipes along. They would all hold hands in one huge circle, praying to the Saint of Sailors and Lost Causes, and then they would party long into the night in his name. It is one of her favourite childhood memories, and every year since she was taken she has always mourned the happy times she no longer had.

This, however… this is as close as she can get to recreating those old memories. Sharing a delicious dinner with her found family, knowing that they will all have her back for better or for worse. They will spend the evening exchanging the gifts stacked in the living room, drinking wine and playing card games, and tomorrow they will sleep in until late and eat leftovers.

Inej can’t imagine a better way to spend her time.

Notes:

thank you so much for reading this!!! i hope you enjoyed it, and you are enjoying the holiday season <3333