Archive of Our Own

Anika - Special Person

To say Kaz Brekker is complicated would be an understatement. He was harsh, elusive, and almost certainly a genius, but no one knew much more about him than that. Not even Anika, who, over the past two and a half years had become somewhat of a right-hand-man to the Bastard of the Barrel. 

Some had the privilege to see Kaz Brekker past his mask, and those few were his crows. Nina Zenik, a powerful Grisha who stopped by Ketterdam every once in a while. Anika didn’t know her well, but she was nice enough. There was Jesper Fahey; he used to be like Brekker’s second; but now he only visited occasionally with Wylan Van Eck, a newly appointed mercher on the council, and his third crow, at his side.

And there was one more, Inej Ghafa, the Wraith, Dirtyhands’ shadow. No one ever said anything about it, but all of the Dregs knew she was special to Brekker. They’d all hear the stories and rumors: Kaz had bought her from a pleasure house and turned her into a monster. She was undeniably terrifying to anyone that made the mistake of getting on the wrong side of her blades.

The Wraith’s power was in the unknown; no one knew when she was there, and it made enemies think twice before crossing Kaz Brekker. 

Years after the Wraith’s beginning in the dregs, her name was almost as infamous as Dirtyhands’ himself. She went by many names these days: Saint of the Sea, Savior of the Innocent, Sankta Inej, Captain Inej Ghafa. She was still known as the Wraith to some, although the name was associated more so with her ship rather than her title in the Dregs. Needless to say, she was a force to be reckoned with. Even Anika, who had worked with the Wraith a few times, would admit that her inhuman abilities frightened and amazed her.

Since the Wraith began her quest to hunt slavers on the sea, she wasn’t around often. Though, every once in a while she would show up. Her ship would dock in Fifth Harbor, signaling to all that the Saint of the Sea had returned. Often, the docking of her ship was followed by groups of rescued slaves trailing off to find their way or be escorted to proper lodging. Anika found Inej’s quest to be honorable, but still, she had never quite liked Inej that much.

Anika knew her dislike of the Wraith was unreasonable and entirely born from selfish desires. She couldn’t help the pangs of jealousy that hit her when she would walk into Kaz’s office to report, only to find Inej perched on his desk, swinging her legs back and forth while engaged in conversation with Ketterdam’s most unapproachable man. She knew any romantic feelings she had for Kaz Brekker were entirely fruitless, but even a friendship would be nice. She admired him.

Alas, she knew the closest she would ever get to Kaz was standing on the other side of his desk. 

She was posted outside the fifth harbor the day Inej returned to Ketterdam. Her ship had been spotted on the horizon the night before, and a runner had come to inform Kaz. She was in the room when the runner arrived. Kaz Brekker was not one known to emote, but for the first time, she saw a hint of a smile when he received the runner’s message.

That morning, she watched as Kaz rose early and left the Slat; he threw a few orders around, including her assignment, and swiftly made his way in the direction of the harbor. Every Dreg knew why, but no one dared to speak up.

Anika’s assignment happened to be at the harbor, so after a few preparations, she left the Slat and headed in the direction her boss had taken minutes prior.

When she arrived at her post, a few meters down and to the left of berth twenty-two, she saw the Wraith had already docked. It must have only recently reached the port because she observed members of the crew rushing about on board, tying ropes, and folding sails.

She saw Kaz, dressed meticulously in a black suit and holding a cane in his hand. He stood only a few meters from the ship, looking up at it. She jolted a bit when she focused on his cane, or more specifically, his hands that rested atop it. They were bare. No gloves in sight. 

As Inej appeared above the railing of her ship, Anika watched her jump from it, landing soundlessly in front of Kaz Brekker. She stood, her flowing clothes and hair drifted in the gentle winds.

Inej was looking up at Kaz, and he was looking down at her. They were speaking, but Anika was much too far away to hear their conversation.

Kaz held his bare hand to Inej's cheek for a few moments as Anika watched in awe. A joyful laugh came from Inej.

The two of them, Dirtyhands and the Wraith, strolled past her, bare centimeters apart, talking with small smiles on their faces. Almost as if nothing else mattered to them except each other.

Anika smiled as she watched them disappear into the city. She knew she would never get to be anything like Inej to Kaz. But she would be content with that. 

Kaz and she were not friends, and she knew they never would be, but Kaz Brekker had brought her out of the dark, years ago, and given her the opportunity for a new life. For that, she was grateful.

Anika wasn’t quite sure what their relationship was, but Kaz deserved someone who could truly know him and Inej seemed to be that person.

Rotty - Permission

Rotty was in the Crow Club when The Wraith docked in the fifth harbor. He was sitting at a table playing a game with some rich pricks and being dealt by Dirtyhands himself. It was a fairly normal occurrence – when his boss came down to the tables at the Crow Club to deal, but always an interesting experience. 

Rotty was supposed to be observing the merchers he was seated with, trying to glean some secrets from their chatter. Rotty wasn’t sure why his boss couldn’t do it himself; Brekker was seated right across him, but Rotty didn’t make a habit of questioning him.

The moment Rotty was just about to win a hand, Brekker's face snapped up and his attention was drawn to the door. Now that was unusual. Dirtyhands wasn’t one to get distracted. So, naturally, Rotty followed his view.

Minutes later, the door opened, and the Wraith stepped inside. Her appearance has changed since she was a Dreg. She had long relinquished her dark clothes in favor of lighter, breezier outfits, fit for living on the sea. She didn't look around or acknowledge the observers who followed her movements. She approached swiftly and silently, focused solely on Brekker. 

Rotty watched the proceedings curiously. In front of Brekker, the Wraith leaned down, standing only a few inches taller than him seated, and whispered something into his ear. Brekkers face didn’t change, but he did speak, although quiet. Rotty was able to pick up the words.

“I would like to finish this game, is that alright?” 

‘Is that alright!’ Rotty didn't think he would ever hear a request come from Dirtyhands’ lips, but here he was, asking the Wraith for permission. The interaction completely drew his attention away from his original purpose. Rotty tried his best to keep a straight face and leave no indication of his new fixation, but he was never known as a proficient actor.

The Wraith sat down. Not in a normal chair, but on the arm of the dealer's chair, the chair his boss was sitting in. Rotty almost laughed out loud at the horrendously bold move, and he fully expected his boss to object strenuously to the invasion of his personal space. It was a well-known fact that you were forbidden from coming too close to Dirtyhands. You could earn a broken hand or a shot to the head if you crossed the unspoken law. And here Inej was, breaking the most notorious rule of the Dregs, and yet, Brekker barely reacted at all. The only indication that he had noticed her new perch was the removal of his arm from the armrest to accommodate her.

His arm drifted back up to rest against the side of the Wraith's waist. Rotty was baffled by the calm nonchalance of the interaction, but Brekker either didn't notice or didn't care about the shocked expression that grew on every customer's face in the Crow Club. 

Brekker resumed his dealing. Only this time, he used one hand, seemingly unwilling to disconnect from Inej. Although, it seemed his boss was annoyed with the lack of action in the club around him.

Inej solved this by casually pulling a knife from a location Rotty could not pinpoint. She did it subtly but everyone could tell the threat behind it. As she began to spin the knife through her fingers, the chatter resumed throughout the club. The message was received loud and clear: ‘Nothing to see here.’

The warm lighting that lit up the club glowed around the pair. Every once in a while, Inej would lean down slightly and whisper something in Brekker’s ear. Rotty was hit with the sudden urge to look away; it felt private, what they did. He shook his head and turned away.

A quarter of a bell later, the game ended, and his boss stood, grasping the crow's head on his cane that had been resting beside his chair. He collected the deck he had been dealing with and placed them back in their box. Inej stood as well and made her way to the exit. 

Not a word was uttered as Dirtyhands trailed after her into the night.

As soon as Rotty snapped out of his confusion, he realized that he had forgotten all about his assignment. Shit , he thought. Brekker was going to kill him if he didn’t wrap up the situation with the merchers. He tried to refocus as he shook his head of the thoughts swirling inside him.

When Rotty returned to the Slat later that night, he saw light streaming from Brekker’s window. It was not an abnormal sight, but he also saw a pair of legs, hooked over the windowsill, dressed in flowing pirate’s clothes.

Simon - Laughter

Simon was well aware of Kaz Brekker’s capabilities when it came to violence and destruction. But he was also aware of his softer inclinations. Kaz was not kind or polite by any means, but he could care.

For as long as he could remember, Simon had been on the streets. He wasn’t always alone. His mother and his sister were with him for a while. But his mother had died two years prior, and he found that he could barely remember her face. His sister, however, was clear in his memories.

She had disappeared eight months earlier. The only signs she had been taken were her distant screams that woke Simon from his slumber beneath one of the many bridges that stretched across the canal. He had seen deep footprints in the mud where his sister usually rested. Simon had chased after the sound, searching for her for weeks, but he knew there was no hope. His sister was gone.

He was alone.

Simon wandered the streets for a month, trying to keep warm and fed. He learned to steal. Pickpocket wealthy merchers and swipe bread from bakeries. He even got pretty good at it. He was doing alright for himself; he stole enough to keep himself fed, but not much else.

His luck turned around one night. A night that changed his life for the better. A night during which he made perhaps the most foolish decision of his life, or perhaps the smartest.

Simon was following his normal mid-week evening schedule: sneaking through the barrel, looking for unsuspecting, rich merchers to lift a bit of kruge from. He had spotted his next candidate: a well-dressed man, clearly not hard-up for kruge. He was also using a cane, adding to the likelihood of an easier target.

Simon fell into step a few meters behind the man and gradually grew closer as they walked. Simon was mere centimeters away and slowly reaching for the man’s pocket  when he felt his feet get kicked out from under him.

He fell, landing awkwardly on his knees; it took him a moment to register what caused his fall. The man’s cane. The man must have noticed him; when Simon looked up; his guess was proven correct. The man had turned and was staring down at him. Although, to Simon’s surprise, he didn’t look angry, in fact, he almost looked intrigued.

Simon was frozen in place. He had never been caught before.

“It was a good attempt, truly, but a foolish one.” The man said, his voice was raspy and deep.

Simon stumbled over his words to try and respond. He knew he couldn’t get away. His leg was killing him, and he had no doubt the man could take him down again.  “I’m sorry–” He tried, “I didn’t mean to.” Clearly, that was the wrong thing to say; the man just raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Okay, well yes, I meant to but-”

The man interrupted his rambling. “Shut up.” He said. “I have no need for an excuse. I also have no desire to kill you.” That was not reassuring in the slightest. The fact that killing him came across the man’s mind at all was threatening enough. “Get up. Walk with me.” 

“I- what?” The man just stared at him expectantly. “I can’t,” he said, “My leg, it's hurt.”

“You’re fine,” The man’s patience was wearing thin. “It is not broken. Walk with me.” The man continued walking down the path he had been taking before.

Simon saw no more room for protest, so he scrambled to stand, wincing once he put pressure on his leg. As soon as he was on his feet, he followed the man.

When he caught up, the man spoke again. “Your skills are out of the ordinary, I must say. I didn’t notice your presence until you got quite close.”

Was that a compliment? Simon couldn’t tell. “Thank you?”

The man ignored it. “What is your name?”

“Simon, sir,” He took the chance to ask one of the many questions he had, “Who are you? Where are we walking to? How did you notice me.” Okay, maybe he asked more than one question.

“I am surprised you have not heard of me. How long have you resided in the barrel?” The man hummed after Simon gave his answer. “My name is Kaz Brekker.”

Oh . Oh, no. 

Simon did know who that was. It was Dirtyhands. He was notorious, but Simon had never stuck around long enough in one place to catch much more than simple gossip.

“We are headed to the Slat,” Dirtyhands answered another of his questions. Simon noticed how, despite the crowds, no one around them was willing to get too close. “I want to make a deal.”

“What kind of deal.” Simon was hesitant. This was the Barrel; it was naive to trust the word of anyone.

“The kind where I offer you food and a place to stay, things which you need.” 

Simon understood how this worked.

“And what am I to give you in return.” Simon saw a small smirk form on Dirtyhands’ face.

“Just loyalty, for right now.”

Simon was getting tired; he was hungry and frustrated. Diryhands must have been determined to drag the discussion out.

“And after now?” Simon questioned.

“I am in need of new spiders.” Simon didn’t understand what that was, but Dirtyhands continued before he could ask. “I do not employ children, but your skills of stealth lead me to believe you may be a valuable asset in the future.”

“So, the deal is what exactly?”

“You become a Dreg, a member of my gang. I give you food and housing. You train with my current spider, Roeder, and when you are older and ready, you become a working spider.”

It was a lot to take in. Half the words DIrtyhands said made no sense, but he heard the offer of food and shelter.

Simon pushed down his fear, “And what if I say no?”

“Then you return to what you have been doing. I am not in the business of forcing anyone to do work for me.”

Dirtyhands came to a stop a moment later. Simon looked up and saw the building they stood before. He assumed it was the Slat Dirtyhands had mentioned.

Dirtyhands turned to look him in the eyes. “What is your decision?” Simon thought for a few moments more. Maybe it was foolish, but he settled on an answer.

He stood up straighter and returned Dirtyhands’ gaze. “I accept.”

“Good,” Dirthands held out his hand to shake, “The deal is the deal.”

Simon took his hand and repeated the phrase back to him.

It had been three months since then, and Simon had settled in among the Dregs quite well. He was working with Roeder a few times a week, practicing agility and observation. He was also a sort of errand boy for the Dregs.

Simon did not see Kaz often, but when he did, it wasn’t unpleasant. Kaz made an effort to keep a mask of ruthlessness, and he did it quite well, but Simon had noticed feelings slipping through the cracks.

Anika handed him a missive to deliver to Kaz one night. He went to knock on the door of Kaz’s office and received the go-ahead to enter.

Kaz looked up at him and placed down the pen he was writing with. Simon held out the missive. “Anika told me to deliver this to you.”

“Good-” Kaz cut himself off. Simon was focused on Kaz and failed to notice the presence of another person who was not there before. Though he suspected he would not have noticed even if he wasn’t distracted.

“Kaz,” A feminine voice came from the shadows behind Kaz’s desk. “Is this the spider you speak so highly of?” Simon’s jaw dropped. Where had she come from?

“Inej, what business?” A woman melted out of the shadows. She was beautiful, with long hair and bronze skin. The woman – Inej seemed to be her name – chuckled.

“Always so formal.” She clicked her tongue and shook her head disapprovingly. She ignored his question and turned to Simon.

“Hello,” She said, “My name is Inej. What is yours?” 

“My name is Simon, it is nice to meet you.” He smiled at her, giving a small wave of his hand as a greeting.

“See Kaz,” She turned back to Kaz, who was wearing a slightly amused expression hidden under annoyance. “He has manners, why can’t you be the same?”

“You would hate me with manners,” Kaz said.

“It would feel a bit unnatural.” She retracted her previous statement. “Anyway,” she said to Simon, “I heard you were training to be a spider. I hope Kaz isn’t being too harsh.”

Kaz cut in, “I’m being perfectly polite, excuse you.” She barked out a laugh.

“Are you one of Mr. Brekker’s spiders?” Simon asked. She must have been, or at least she should have been, with her talents.

She smiled wistfully. “I was a long time ago.” 

Kaz snorted. “It’s barely been three years. And you always do jobs with me when you return.”

“Of course, I help you. You’d be a disaster without me.” She smirked playfully.” I’m an important investment, haven’t you heard?”

This time, Kaz laughed. Truly laughed. It was a sort of rough sound, but joyous nonetheless. Simon had never seen him laugh before, but it made sense. In the past few minutes, Kaz seemed more alive than he had ever seen. Simon suspected it had to do with the woman in front of him. “You are never going to let me live that down are you, Wraith?”

The Wraith! Simon had heard of her.

“You are the Wraith!” He exclaimed.

Inej nodded her head, “I am. Although, I don’t use that title much anymore.”

“I’ve heard about you from Roeder. He talks about how talented you are all the time. He speaks very highly of you.” Simon saw Inej’s smile widen. He also saw a bit of darkness flash across Kaz’s face at the words before he schooled his expression into a more neutral one.

“Yes, well, you two can catch up later. I have business with Inej to tend to.” That was a dismissal to Simon.

Just as Simon was about to open the door and leave, Kaz spoke again. “Good work, Simon. You can take the next few days off.”

Kaz told him he did well. The day was full of surprises; praise from Kaz was few and far between. It made it mean so much more.

“Thank you,” Simon said.

“Once you return, it is back to work.” Kaz’s tone was stern, but the look in his eyes told a different story.

“Of course, sir.”

“Do talk to Inej later.” Kaz said, “she might be able to help with your sister.”

This time, Simon beamed; he nodded eagerly and bid his farewell.

He left the room and shut the door behind him. Through the wall, he heard the muffled voice of Inej, followed by the now-familiar sound of Kaz’s laughter.

Simon smiled and left the Slat. He decided to pick up his favorite bread from the market. 

Roeder - Hair

It was a long-running joke among the younger Dregs that, at some point, almost everyone had feelings for one of the two most unattainable people. Those people being Kaz Brekker, the barrel boss himself, and Inej, the Wraith. Both terrifying forces no sane person would cross. 

There was no such thing as charm when it came to Kaz Brekker, but his sharp, appealing looks and powerful disposition made him rather attractive to many people. His immaculate suits and gloves added an aura of mystery and challenge that brought in those who craved danger. 

Kaz Brekker was undeniably untouchable. None of the Dregs had ever witnessed him show interest towards anyone romantically or sexually. 

When he brought the Wraith to the Dregs, rumors swirled from the knowledge of her previous occupancy at a pleasure house. The rumors cleared up once her skills proved the reasoning behind her invitation to the gang and after a good amount of threats from Dirtyhands. 

No one dared to proposition Brekker directly, as it quite possibly could end in death, but some braver, or more foolish souls, tried their luck with his right-hand woman.

Inej, while terrifying on levels that rivaled Brekker’s, was kind. She was somewhat reserved, but made an effort to welcome new members and greet old members with a small smile.

Anyone who had the balls to try and court Inej would be treated with a polite rejection from her and a death glare from Brekker at best. At worst, they would receive a knife to the throat from the Wraith if they insisted too much, and earn the hellish existence of suicide missions and the worst posts in the Dregs until Dirtyhands decided to stop his torture. 

The absolute worst-case scenario only came to those who severely overstepped their boundaries, like trying to touch Inej, which always ended with certain death at the hands of the Wraith or Dirtyhands. 

Thus it became an unspoken law that one’s only choice was to give up on any attraction to Kaz Brekker or Inej Ghafa.

Unfortunately, Roeder was one of those people. He accepted fairly easily that he would never have shot with her, but that didn’t stop his admiration. He held on to hope that maybe his chance might appear someday.

Roeder wasn’t particularly smart. He could admit that. But he was good at his job, and that was of the most value. He knew very well he would never be as good as Inej. He had never met anyone who could rival her skills, and he doubted anyone like that could even exist. It was part of what drew him to her.

Kaz was irritated at him often; Roeder made mistakes, and his boss was far from lenient. Roeder wished the Wraith to dock in the harbor soon. Kaz always became a bit softer in her presence.

His wish was granted soon enough.

He didn’t know she had arrived until hours after the fact. Roeder has just finished scouting a section of the Barrel housing what was left of the Dime Lions. He headed to Kaz’s office when he got back, as he always did, to report his findings, or lack thereof in this case. 

He knocked on his office door.

“Come in, Roeder,” Kaz’s voice sounded from inside. It was expected, but still a little freaky, that Kaz always knew who was at the door. He heard a giggle sound from inside as he twisted the doorknob. 

He opened the door to find not a particularly surprising sight, but a welcome one nonetheless. He saw the Wraith, sitting crosslegged in the center of the desk, facing away from Kaz Brekker.

However, Roeder was stunned when she saw her hair down. It was a rare sight to see. She was gorgeous, and Roeder fought to keep his blush down.

Even more shocking was the sight of Kaz Brekker’s hands, stripped of their gloves, weaving through Inej’s hair.

Kaz didn’t look up at him. “What business, Roeder?”

Roeder jumped a bit; he had almost forgotten why he had come in the first place.

“Right,” he began, “I checked out the Dime Lions’ territory. Not much has changed but it seems they have expanded slightly. Two new shops bear their icon, but they aren’t very relevant.”

Roeder watched as Kaz continued to move his hands through her hair, pulling back and separating pieces from one another and twisting them around.

“Good, keep an eye on them and come to me if anything else changes,” Kaz said as he picked up what appeared to be some sort of ribbon. “Anything else?”

Roeder shook his head. “That’s all, boss.” He was about to leave when Inej called his name.

“Roeder,” She said, and turned around to reach something on the desk behind her. It was then that he saw all of her hair. It was now pulled into an intricate braid. Far more complex than he was used to seeing on her.

Kaz had been braiding her hair. He realized. He could hardly comprehend the idea. If someone had told him a few hours ago that Kaz Brekker knew how to braid, and volunteered to braid someone's hair, he would have laughed in their face. But here he was.

Inej turned back around and held out a sealed envelope. “Deliver this to Elanor on The Wraith, please.”

He nodded and grabbed the envelope.

As he trekked down to the harbor, the image of Kaz Brekker, the mighty dirtyhands, braiding Inej’s hair wouldn’t leave his mind.

Roeder couldn’t help but be jealous; he would do practically anything to be in Kaz’s position. He knew that it was simply a delusion; he was willing to accept the fact that no one else would ever be in Kaz's shoes.

Hala - Suli

Hala was apprehensive when she was offered a spot in the most notorious gang in Ketterdam, probably the most notorious in all of Kerch. Her decision to accept the offer had proven to be her best decision ever.

Six months prior, the Bastard of the Barrel himself showed up outside the back door of the restaurant she worked at. Well, it wasn’t quite a job. She was sold cheap to the owner four years back when he required free labor. She had worked in the kitchens ever since. It wasn’t the most miserable existence, and she thanked the saints every day she hadn’t been sold to a pleasure house instead.

The owner was rude and demanding, but she had a bed to sleep in and food. She had to be careful, though. If she messed up too often, he would skip her meals or take her cot.

She was closing up the restaurant and heading outside to throw out the last of the trash when she almost ran straight into a man who was loitering outside. It took her only a few moments to register the iconic crow’s head that rested atop the cane the man was holding. The man was Dirtyhands, she was sure of that.

The owner warned her about him when she got to Ketterdam, telling her to keep quiet and avoid anything that could draw his attention. That is to say, anything that could indicate his position in the very corrupt institution of his skimming and dealings with the tax collectors.

Hala hadn’t known whether she should run back or pay him no mind. Her Kerch wasn’t very good, so it was unlikely she could hold a conversation well enough. She dropped the trash bag she was holding and took a step back.

Then he spoke.

“Is Martyn Tobel in?” He asked. Hala recognized enough words to understand the idea. She shook her head.

Dirtyhands quirked an eyebrow but continued, “good,” Hala got the sense that he had already known the answer. “... office and … me where he… his ….. taxes.” Hala tried her best, but she couldn’t discern the meaning.

She was terrified Dirtyhands wouldn’t accept her silence, “I do not speak much Kerch.” She said. His face didn’t change, but his next words were hardly what she expected.

“You speak Suli, I presume,” Dirtyhands said. And he had spoken in her native tongue, in Suli! It was unexpected but appreciated. Hala was smart, she picked up on information quickly. She knew if she was allowed to spend more time around people that she would have picked up Kerch by now. But she wasn’t allowed out; she was cooped up in the kitchen all day, and most of what she heard from the owner were commands. She could read a menu but not much else.

Dirtyhands spoke formally. In a way that led her to believe he had learned the language through books. But his accent, while still flawed, was too good to be learned through reading alone. It seemed he spoke the language often or was taught by a native speaker. Likely both.

“Take me to Tobel’s office and show me where he keeps the records on his taxes,” Dirtyhands said.

“My business is not his but I cannot do that. I will get in trouble.” She responded. She found, despite his reputation, he didn’t seem threatening at that moment, just a bit stern.

“ You are indentured here, are you not?” 

“I am.” She said back. He hummed contemplatively. 

“ I know you are a cook here. Compassion and empathy are not factors in my decisions but I can offer you a job.” He said. Hala was confused, it was growing darker and colder by the second, and she knew the owner would be back soon. He must have sensed her confusion and elaborated further. “The Slat has gone without a proper cook for a while now, it is not a nice job, but it will get you out of here.”

A sudden surge of confidence rushed through Hala. “I will not leave just to be indentured again.” She said sternly.

Dirtyhands seemed almost impressed. “ This is not an indenture, I do not care what you do or where you go, as long as you do your job when it's needed, you will be paid.” 

And, okay. That didn’t seem too bad. The idea of working for a gang was more than a little nerve-racking, but if it got her out of there, maybe it would work out.

“ Alright, I accept your offer.” He nodded.

“Gather your belongings and take me where I asked. When I have finished conducting my business, I will show you to the Slat.” He didn't wait for a response. He stepped inside and waited for her to do the same.

Since then, she had endeared herself to the Dregs. Good food was a desired commodity. The Dregs accepted her as their own, and she had eventually gotten the tattoo to finalize her entry.

It was still lonely in a way. She was fluent in Kerch now, but she couldn’t help but mourn the culture she had lost. There were two other Suli members in the Dregs, but they were both born and raised in Kerch and held none of the ties to their family’s cultures that she did.

Then, she met Inej Ghafa. Hala had known of Inej; the Dregs spoke of her often, but never under her true name. They only called her the Wraith. 

She had heard Jesper speaking to Kaz about a person named Inej docking soon in the harbor, and the next day, Hala saw a small Suli girl, draped in loose clothes; those worn by seafarers, walk through the front door. The woman was cheered on, the name Wraith leaving the Dregs’ lips.

“Inej,” she heard. She looked over and found Brekker standing outside his office, greeting her by name. They spoke no further words, and both trailed into the office, shutting the door behind them.

She didn’t see any more of the Wraith until the next morning. Hala was making breakfast when a voice called out to her.

“Hello,” Hala nearly jumped out of her boots. She spun around and was met with the Wraith. Hala hadn’t heard her come into the kitchen. The Wraith had spoken Suli. Hala didn’t know why that surprised her. It was much more likely that this woman knew how to speak her language than for Dirtyhands to speak it. The Wraith stuck out her hand, “My name is Inej Ghafa.”

Hala hesitantly clasped their hands together. “My name is Hala, it is nice to meet you,” Hala replied. A smile stretched across Inej’s face.

“I'm glad we have a new cook, the food here before was simply atrocious.” Inej joked. Hala understood it now, she recognized the intricacies in Inej’s accent; she heard them in Kaz’s as well.

She and Inej continued conversing as Hala finished up breakfast. Inej had grabbed a plate and was eating with her when Dirtyhands stepped into the room.

“I’ve got a job for you.” He directed it at Inej. She sighed theatrically, and Hala noticed an uncharacteristic expression reach across Dirtyhands’ face. A small smile. Hala suddenly felt like she was not meant to see it; it felt private. She looked down at her plate.

“Alright, but I’m taking the roof.” She heard Inej say. 

They left the room after Inej bid her farewell. Hala heard them speaking as they walked towards the door. It was hard to pick out their voices among the bustling Dregs, but weeding out the Suli of their words and the Kerch from the Dregs made it much easier.

“Must you take the rooves this time?”

“You like it when I can watch over you.”

“I also like it when I can watch over you. When you’re by my side”

“Alright, Kaz, I’ll walk with you.”

They had a strange relationship, Brekker, and Inej, but it wasn’t her business, so she let it go.

+1 Kaz - Revelations

Kaz and Inej had long decided there was no point in hiding their relationship. The Captain and the Barrel Boss' enemies knew they exchanged information frequently and had exploited what they thought was a weakness on multiple occasions. It never worked, of course. 

After they considered their relationship romantic four years ago, they concluded that not only would discovering their true relationship not alter their enemies' threats, but it could also prove advantageous for Kaz and Inej. They knew, once the rumors spread, It would be known that no harmful action could be attempted on one of them without deadly retribution from the other. They were already the most feared people in Ketterdam, and their influence could only spread from their partnership.

However, despite the two making no effort to hide their relationship, it seemed no one understood its true nature. Maybe some feared the consequences of spreading rumors, though unlikely as it had never stopped some in the past. Or, it might have been because those around them grew so used to the ambiguous nature of their relationship to truly realize it had changed.

Inej found that fact endlessly amusing.

 Kaz didn’t care much at all.

After one of the Crows’ weekly dinner parties held at the Van Eck mansion, the two, plus Wylan and Jesper made a drunken bet on how soon the Dregs would catch on. Jesper claimed that either Inej or Kaz could be trying to throw the bet. Inej countered Jesper's protest, saying even obvious signs may not sway opinions.

1,000 kruge was bet by each friend. Jesper said it would take a year; Wylan said two weeks; Inej said eight months. Kaz predicted six.

Of course, it was Kaz who won. 

Everything came to light the morning after The Wraith docked in the Ketterdam harbor after her eighth outing at sea.

Over the five years since the auction, he and Inej had developed a sort of routine. He would see her off at the docks before her departure. While she was away, she would send a letter every time she docked in a harbor. The letters usually contained information, but always included a personal message for him. He would receive the letters, read them twice; place them in his hidden safe, then read them once more the next morning.

Inej would eventually return to Ketterdam. Kaz would meet her in the harbor and the two of them would walk through the Barrel. 

Later, Kaz would return to the Slat and finish working; Inej would return to her ship and tend to it.

At eight bells on the dot, Inej would crawl through the attic window and find Kaz getting ready for bed.

Sometimes things changed in their routine, but it wasn’t often. That specific night, however, shattered their routine.

As soon as Kaz received the message of the Wraith’s arrival, he discontinued his work and trekked down to the harbor. When he arrived at the Wraith, however, there was no Inej in sight.

Elanor, Inej’s second lieutenant peaked her head over the railing and spotted him.

“Mister Brekker!” She shouted, waving her arms to get his attention.

“Elanor, where is your captain?” He asked, squinting against the sunlight as he looked up at her.

She looked distressed. “I don’t know! She was shot a few days ago. A truly nasty wound. We were going to call a healer but she disappeared as soon as we docked.”

Fear surged through him, but he pushed it down. He knew Inej, and he knew where she would go. “I will find her. Good day, Elanor.”

Kaz all but ran back to the Slat. He slammed the front door open and rushed up the stairs, bad leg be damned. He barely stopped to knock on the attic door.

“Come in.” Came Inej’s muffled voice; it sounded pained. Kaz hated that sound.

He pushed open the door and found her hunched over in front of his desk. She was surrounded by medical supplies, bandages, and sewing needles.

Kaz stumbled over and dropped to her knees in front of her. He brought his hands up to cup her cheeks.

“Are you alright, Inej?”

She looked him in the eyes and smiled a bit. “I will be, It's not as bad as it looks.”

Kaz scoffed. “Why didn’t you wait to call a healer?” It was a stupid question; she just looked at him, unimpressed. 

Kaz knew her well enough to understand her reasoning. He was sure if Inej was injured, it was likely that much of her crew was as well. She would see it as taking away attention from the crew if she took the time to get herself a healer. 

He gave up on the question and asked another: “Is there anything I can do to help?”

She shook her head. “I just finished stitching it up, maybe just get me to the bed.”

“Of course,” Kaz said. He gently wrapped his arm around her ribs and she did the same to his shoulders. She took a deep breath and Kaz lifted her in one motion.

Inej groaned at the movement but bit her lip to prevent any more noise from escaping her. Kaz slowly led her to bed, wincing every time he heard her gasp in pain. He hated it, he hated her getting hurt. He was already concocting dozens of creative ways to torture whoever had done this to her. Although, he suspected they were already dead by Inej’s hand.

He laid her down and pulled the sheets over her body. Her eyelids were already fluttering as the pull of sleep crept up on her.

“You need to rest. Don’t try anything too strenuous for the next few days.” Kaz said as he readied himself for bed. Though, he wasn’t sure if she’d heard a word of what he'd said. A glance over at her confirmed his suspicion; Inej was fast asleep.

Kaz doused the lights and got into bed beside her and fell asleep a few moments later.

When Kaz awoke the next morning, he did not find the same sight he had fallen asleep to. He groggily reached over to confirm his observation and found a distinctly Inej-less side of the bed, only the lingering warmth of her clinging to the sheets.

He groaned. Damn her.

He wasn’t surprised; Inej never did like being still for too long.

He dragged himself out of bed and made himself presentable. He replaced the blood-stained sheets and cleaned the mess in front of his desk from last night.

He checked the bathroom to make sure she hadn't just gotten up to use it. Sure enough, it was empty.

He also lit a fire for the kettle and set tea leaves in a mug with the boiling water. 

He left the room and found himself on the landing looking out over the Slat’s common area. Despite the fairly early hour, it was still full of Dregs. 

It was quieter at the Slat in the morning than it was at night, but there was still plenty of action. Groups surrounding tables, drinking and eating Hala’s fresh-made breakfast.

He scanned the room briefly and spotted Inej in the corner near his office; she was conversing with Anika and Roeder. She must have been instructing Roeder because she was playing out the motions of some of her strategies as a spider.

Kaz shook his head. Only Inej would be out of bed and moving around mere hours after recovering from a gunshot wound.

“Inej.” He said loudly, catching the attention of everyone in the room.

“Kaz,” she acknowledged.

He descended the remaining steps and leaned against the far wall, looking directly at her.

“I believe I told you to rest.” He said sternly. She rolled her eyes.

“You do not get to command me, Kaz,” she said, walking closer to him.

“No, I wouldn’t dream of it. I do, however, make requests. And I make promises, specifically one I made with your mother that entailed that I try my best to prevent you from overworking yourself.” 

Inej looked annoyed.

“I despise how you two get along so well.” She huffed.

Kaz almost laughed. “No, you do not. Please rest.”

“Fine.” Inej relented. Much to the further shock of the Dregs, she walked in the direction of the stairs.

Surprising Kaz, Roeder spoke up. “Wraith?” Inej looked back at him. “Where are you going?”

She tilted her head. Kaz saw where this was going. “To rest, of course.”

“You do not live here.” It came out more like a question.

“Do I not?” Inej also caught on to the direction of the conversation; Kaz could tell from the playful lilt of her words. 

“I need your key,” Inej said to Kaz.

“And where is yours? I do remember making one for you.” The same undertone of her voice reached into his.

“I left it on the ship.”

“Then you are welcome to pick the locks.” Kaz was amused. “Practice is always good.”

“Kaz,” she warned.

Kaz honest to Ghezen chuckled. He pulled the key to their room from one of his many hidden pockets and tossed it to her. She caught it easily.

“I expect a cup of tea to be delivered to me, as consolation for this demanding task.” Her voice was stern but joking.

“I believe you will find one such cup residing on the bedside table already.”

She nodded at him with a smile and turned away.

Kaz finally took his eyes off of her and observed the Dregs around him. Their faces were extensively comical. He watched as they all pieced it together in their heads: the fact that Inej must have lived with Kaz, and that he was close to her mother; the care he showed for her wellbeing.

“Oh, Saints,” Roeder said when he put it all together. Kaz raised an unimpressed eyebrow as he looked to him. “You-” Roeder looked back and forth between Inej and him. “It all makes sense now. Oh, saints, it makes so much sense.”

Kaz ignored him.

“Oh, and Inej?” He caught her attention and she looked back at him. A smug grin formed on his face, “It appears that exactly six months have passed.”

Realization donned on Inej. She groaned. “Saints damn you Kaz Brekker. How are you always right?!” Every eye and ear in the Slat were trained towards the pair, but neither of them acknowledged it.

“It’s a talent, Darling.” He replied. “I will be contacting Jesper and Wylan soon, I expect the kruge I am owed from you, as well.”

“There is no point to that. There is no kruge to my name that is not also yours and there is no kruge to your name that is not also mine.”

“It is the principal. I always collect my dues.”

“You are utterly infuriating.” It only fueled his smugness.

“So I’ve been told.”

Inej just scoffed and turned, disappearing up the stairs moments later.

The silence was deafening until Anika made the brave move to speak up.

“I- what the fuck?” She almost shouted. He turned to stare at her, unimpressed. Sadly, it did not scare her as much as it once did. “How long?”

Kaz unnecessarily adjusted his sleeves and straightened his tie and made to leave. He had business to attend to; the morning interruption would not halt his plans. He only responded once he reached the door out of the Slat.

“Now, I don’t see how that is your business.” His smirk returned full force, “Although, it is mildly disturbing that so many of my employees have remained so hopelessly oblivious for the past four years. Make sure to remedy that.” He promptly swept out of the room, preparing for chaos to unfold.

Just as he predicted, noise erupted in the room. He heard Anika shout disbelievingly from behind him. “Four years?! Four fucking years?!”

He had been wrong before. It really had been quite amusing.