Archive of Our Own

There were some traditions Inej was never able to let go of.

Her culture was one of the most important things in her life and Inej tried to stay connected to it as much as possible. The life she led made it harder — just like the Suli, she didn’t stay in one place for long; she was always traveling, always meeting new people, new cultures, new traditions — but she always made sure to bring it with her in her heart.

Now, at the age of twenty-seven, so much had changed within herself, and her understanding of her culture had changed with her. As a seasoned pirate, who spent most of her time at sea, it was hard to find the remnants of her Suli origins if you didn’t take a closer look. Most didn’t have the chance to.

Her clothes were different, to begin with. No silks, no colorful fabrics, no traditional embroidery along her skirts, none of that. These days, Inej was most comfortable wearing practical clothes that allowed her to climb and fight, and made it possible for her to blend into the shadows. That change didn’t affect her that much. She was more than happy to return back to her origins whenever she visited home, fitting in with her people, belonging to her community. But the silks were still a problem, even after all this time, so removing them from her life was a decision that didn’t pain her as much as others.

She missed speaking her language the most. Traveling the world brought her closer to so many different cultures and in contact with different languages, which helped her connect with the people she rescued over the years. But nothing delighted her more than listening to her own. Suli words sounded like poems in her ear. It wasn’t hard and dry like Kerch or as precise as Ravkan.

The words of the Suli language had meanings, reasons; they were derived from what they could see, touch and feel. Some could be translated to a million different things, others belonged only to her people and to no one else. 

Inej found peace whenever she spent time with her family, after a long voyage with her mostly Kerch crew. Listening to her father’s proverbs and lighthearted jokes, hearing the songs of her childhood and letting the words of a well known prayer roll off her tongue like she had never stopped speaking it in the first place.

And then there was her faith and everything that came along with it.

Despite everything, her faith remained intact as it had for most of her life and still remained the most important aspect of herself. Along with her beliefs, her knowledge, everything that her parents and her people had taught her along the way, her faith was her main path to finding peace in her tumultuous life.

She missed the full experience of being in contact with her religion. At sea, there weren't rituals to be followed or the elders to lead her people in them. No days were reserved for prayer and even the celebrations were non-existent when she was alone with her Saints.

Inej missed those the most. To be able to celebrate someone’s life, bring the blessing of the Saints from their birth to their marriage to their death. Her returns hardly ever coincided with her community’s period of celebrations, but she had fond memories of all of them.

Inej had been seven years old when she had attended her first wedding. Suli weddings lasted several days, full of celebrations in preparation for the union of the couple, which involved her entire community. She remembered every moment of it, from the joyous moments of music and dancing to the moments of deep contemplation of the Saints and the good fortune they would bring to the happy couple.

It was her favorite celebration to this day.

And now it was her turn.

Inej was to be wed the next day.

It was a moment she hadn’t been sure would happen, not after everything. For a long time after she left the Menagerie, she never gave much thought to her leading a normal, traditional life. Or even one, for that matter. Her goal had been one thing and one thing only: pay off her indenture, leave this godforsaken city and find her family again. After that, nothing else had mattered.

When she started a relationship with Kaz, a commitment longer than what they had never crossed her mind. Her freedom was the most important thing for her and the prospect of a new contract scared her more than she could fathom. Not that it was a constant thought, something she was haunted by. The truth was, she never saw them having anything more than they had at the moment. She didn't think he or even she would want it.

Until they did.

Until she asked him and he said yes.

Her wedding wasn't like the ones she saw growing up. She wasn't among her community, in the caravan, or even marrying a nice Suli boy, who would join her at the performances around Ravka, in a traditional Suli ceremony. 

Inej was marrying Kaz Brekker in a small town south of Ravka, on an old farm big enough to accomodate the thirteen people present. She was joined by her family and their friends for an intimate ceremony. 

There would be no big festivities; the men in her caravan wouldn’t build them a new wagon to live and travel with the rest of the community, the women wouldn’t pass down old belongings to decorate their new home or gather to teach her their family recipes. She would not participate in every celebration organized by the matrons or follow every tradition on her wedding day.

Her mother had asked her upon their arrival if she was happy. If she felt like she was missing out on something — either regarding her wedding, her future marriage or her life. The truth was, she had never felt more fulfilled in her life than in that moment. Being out at sea, bringing the justice she was denied to so many other people made her happy, was what the Saints wanted her to. 

By now she had more blood on  her hands than she’d have liked to— Inej was perceived as the Saint of Death to so many who crossed her path, believed to be a merciless killer by so many. She had earned that reputation for a reason, and while it did the job of scaring many, it wasn’t who she was. Death was part of life and she had no right to take someone’s from them, but what could be done when there wasn’t any other alternative? Inej had made peace with that a long time ago.

She knew her mother wished, to this day, for her to return to their family, their community, their culture. But Inej had become someone else than who her mother had raised her to be and that person didn’t fit in anymore with the others. Besides, she had become a story among her people. Inej was what happened to little boys and girls when they didn’t obey their parents or when they wandered off to unknown places. Inej was hardly the first one that had happened to, but she was the first one who came back, and her story had followed her. 

The caravan had not forsaken her, but now she was a visitor, a stranger. Even when she brought people back to their family, she was met with gratitude, but she still didn’t belong. 

She belonged at sea. She belonged with her parents. She belonged among her friends. And that was enough. 

And then there was Kaz. The boy who had saved her from Heleen all those years ago. The boy who had watched her break in more ways than anyone could imagine, who even caused some of that, but who had also helped her put herself together into someone stronger, deadlier, bolder. Ten years in the making and there wasn’t a day her heart didn’t warm at the thought of him.

Things weren’t always easy and she never expected them to be — not with him. Distance had made everything harder than it should have been, leading to misunderstandings and slow progress in their development as a couple.

But she’d had to leave and he’d needed to stay.

In the end, they always found their way back to each other. Kaz was able to find her wherever she was, sending word with any valuable information on her quest: what ships would be carrying the cargo she looked for, which people were behind it, who could possibly be dangerous to deal with. 

In the midst of it, there were also the letters that were meant for her eyes only. Words that may never be spoken aloud, feelings that were buried deep inside of him, and she was the only one able to pull them from his chest. 

As for her wedding, she also didn’t feel like she was missing out on anything by having it her own way. Part of having her childhood stolen and being taken from her people at a young age meant that she was thrown into the cruel realities of the world. It made it easier for her to adapt to any situation she was in, question what was unquestionable before, and see things in another light. 

It was hard to let go of the beliefs she was born into and, most of the time, painful as well. But Inej comforted herself by knowing that the things that really mattered were still present in her life.

Her wedding reflected that. She didn’t think of the things she wouldn’t have, but the things she had gained.

During the week, her family did their best to carry out their traditions during the event. Her mother, aunt, and an elder from the caravan organized the day of prayers her entire family attended. Her cousins, with the help of Nina and Jesper, were taking care of the preparations for the wedding, decorating the space behind the house where the ceremony would be held. Her father, uncle, Wylan, and Kaz were responsible for bringing the necessary things outside for each event that was held before their wedding.

Of all of the celebrations that happened during the week, Inej was most excited for a particular one. The pithi ceremony was traditionally attended by both bride and groom, and their families blessed them by applying a yellow paste to their skin, to bring happiness and prosperity into their new lives, among other things. 

Kaz hadn’t participated in it, of course. No one said anything directly to her — or him, for that matter — but Inej was still a spider and whispers found their way to her nonetheless. Her family was displeased by his lack of interest in their traditions and rituals, especially at that moment.  The day of prayers hadn’t been a problem — Kerch men had no business being a part of such an intimate moment, especially a man  who didn’t seem to have any kind of faith in particular. But the pithi ceremony was meant to bring the families together and his absence in it had been noticed. 

Inej didn’t care. Even now, Kaz had trouble with touch, especially from people he wasn’t familiar with and she wouldn’t ask him to join her in something he wasn’t comfortable with.

So the day had been about her alone.

A small part of her wished he had been there, just to witness it all. She wanted him to see that version of herself, dressed in the traditional Suli clothes her mother had made for her— a bright yellow top with small bright stones and embroidery covering the fabric, and the long skirt that started the same shade of yellow and faded into rich orange hues at the hem, the color and the embellishments making her look like the sun. She left her hair down her back and her eldest cousin had given her a headpiece to rest on her hairline with a small centerpiece that laid on her forehead. 

Inej had never felt more beautiful than at that moment. 

She wished Kaz could see how much love was surrounding her, surrounding them. It had been such a long time since she had felt so loved and accepted by her own culture, her own people. While it was true that her parents had never stopped loving her for a second, the person she had become wasn’t the same one they had raised and that scared them. The fear of disappointing them clung to her for years and had made her take a step back from them, avoiding certain topics of conversation, stories of her journey, small pieces of herself that she kept them protected from.

But the moment her mother had cupped her face, spreading the paste on her cheek, with the sweetest of smiles, that fear had seemed pointless. Her mother knew what she had been through, what she had done to survive, what she kept doing for the sake of others, and the consequences of it all, but Inej was still her daughter.  It had taken her until that moment to realize that her mother wouldn’t stop loving her for anything in the world. The happiness and pride behind her mother’s eyes meant everything to her. 

It was the same way her father looked at her when he brushed his thumb on her nose before spreading a large portion of the paste in her hair, making her laugh louder than she had in a long time. She wished to live in that moment for the rest of her life. 

Not long after, she felt the tingling on the back of her neck that indicated Kaz’s presence. No one else seemed to notice him— everyone was too immersed in the activity to even glance at someone who was several feet away from the celebration. 

Anyone in the Barrel would have a hard time recognizing Dirtyhands right now. Kaz never had a problem adapting, especially for a job, but he always managed to remain so unmistakably himself no matter what. It was always a detail — perhaps the gloves he hardly ever shed, the scowl that seemed to never leave his face.

But at that moment, he looked like the boy he could’ve been if life had dealt him the right cards in the first place. His suit was nowhere to be found, and neither were the gloves. He didn’t wear them when she was present anymore. Instead, he was wearing old farmer’s clothes, probably something stolen from the Komedie Brute wardrobe— she hadn’t asked. If anyone had noticed him, he blended in with the place.

Not to her, no. Inej thought he stuck out like a sore thumb, no matter what he was dressed in. His eyes always gave him away. Kaz was such an unforgiving Barrel rat no matter where he was and his eyes reflected that. On this farm, miles away from his kingdom, he didn’t have to assert his dominance over anyone, scare people off that might get too close, and he didn’t. Not with her family and his friends.

But it was so deep inside him, it was like he didn’t know how to be anything else, and his eyes always betrayed him. 

But then their eyes met, and something shifted. 

His deep, dark brown eyes were nothing but soft as he looked at her, relishing on her being, and he looked lighter, freer. There was no need to hide or pretend they’re nothing more than allies here. They were safe here, no way for their enemies to find their location, to find out about them. It wasn’t a secret that Dirtyhands and the Wraith were together by now, but showing affection made them vulnerable and neither wanted to risk each other’s safety.

Her mother relished in it more than she expected her to. It took some time for Kaz to finally make a good impression on her family. She couldn’t blame them— how could they understand what they had when Kaz seemed nothing but disinterested in her in public?

Inej smiled at him, unable to stop herself. This was everything she wanted. Her family, friends and him, all together. Being able to just be with the boy she loved and having him open and vulnerable for all to see, because they were safe. When he smiled back — a true, honest, genuine smile — it was for her eyes only, but it felt like it was for the whole world, for allowing them that moment.

“Nej, it is your turn now,” her younger cousin said, running towards her and pushing the pot with the yellow mixture into her hands. Ellyna was barely thirteen, almost the age Inej was when she was taken away from her family. She looked so much like her, back then.

“My turn?” she asked, focusing on the young girl. It was hard avoiding looking back at Kaz, but no one had noticed him yet and now the attention was back on her. She wouldn’t put it past Ellyna to spot him and demand his presence at the event.

“Put it on me!”  She looked excited, barely able to contain herself. “So I can find someone to love too”.

“Oh, you have been holding out on me, Inej!” Nina joined the conversation with the biggest smile on her face. It pleased her to no end that her friend had taken the time to learn her language. “What’s that with finding love, you say?”

Inej laughed, holding her friend’s hand. “We believe if a soon to be wife spreads the pithi on an unmarried woman, she’ll find a partner who’s worthy of her.”

A flash of sadness passed in her eyes for a moment, but it was gone as quickly as it came. Nina had found her worthy partner once upon a time, before cruely losing him. “Well, I am not going to say no to that!”

“Neither will I!” her cousin interjected again, looking expectantly at Inej.

“You are just a child, Ellyna,” she said with a touch on her head. Ellyna’s face turned into disappointment, making the other two women laugh. Inej turned her attention back to Nina. “And you deserve all the love in the world.”

She slowly spread the pithy in Nina’s cheeks, so full of gratitude for her friend being here with her.  “I hope you find your Kaz someday”.

Nina laughed hard, pulling Inej to a hug. “You little traitor,” she whispered before letting her go and sweeping the paste from her cheek. “If I fall for someone like Kaz, neither of us would survive long enough for a wedding, dear. Only Saints like you could ever do that, and we both know I'm no Saint.”

She wasn’t either, but it felt like a miracle was performed to get them all so far.

***

It was dawn when she returned to the house.

The celebration had ended a few hours prior, but everyone stayed outside to enjoy the warm weather. Her family was well used to it, but Wylan and Jesper, so used to the humid, damp air, relished in the fresh spring air Ravka was offering. Nina, on the other hand, seemed more like herself than ever. Ravka was her home and she had missed it.

Inej had the same feeling, of being right at home, on the first two days. She never stayed too long when she visited her family, but the feeling was always there. Walking through the fields, helping set up her people’s tents, how she used to go swimming in the lake with the other children, helping her mom with the cooking, and listening to her father’s stories.

It brought her peace but it didn’t stop her from missing the sea.

She had washed the pithi away a while ago, not wanting to bring a mess into a house she didn’t own. Everyone else stayed back, still not ready to join her, but she was starting to grow tired. As beautiful as her clothes were, they were also heavy and moving in them wasn’t as easy as the clothes she was used to.

Inej knew how much it meant to her mother to see her dressed in their traditional clothing, so she wouldn’t put her pants and vest on. She had brought a simple cotton dress that allowed her the movement she craved and still gave her the ability to wear her knives.

But first.

His bedroom door was closed. Their, really, but her family didn’t need to know that once they were all set for the night, Inej would climb to his room for a stolen moment or two. Inej missed being in his arms and even though they didn’t do more than that, the Suli had firm beliefs regarding being with someone while unmarried.

She didn’t knock, they never did. Being able to feel each other’s presence was more than enough and knocking became unnecessary for them.

Maybe she should’ve. Maybe then she would have been prepared for what she found inside.

She didn’t immediately notice it when she walked in— everything was exactly how it was that morning, with the exception of the candles around, casting the room in a glow of soft light. The bedroom wasn’t as warm as expected, the cool wind brushing against her skin, making her shiver.

Or maybe that was the effect the man sitting in the chair, holding a book by the window, had on her. 

“It seems like the celebration came to an end,” he said, without looking away from the book in his hands. “But with Jesper and Nina you can never be sure.”

“I never took you for a man who would be satisfied with uncertainty,” Inej answered, walking in his direction before stopping right in front of him. “Perhaps Ravka doesn’t agree with you, after all.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, dear,” Kaz closed the book and put it down on the table next to him. “I am always sure of my surroundings. Are you?”

Inej frowned. Her eyes roamed around the room once again, trying to see if there was anything she wasn’t seeing, but it looked like everything was in place as it was that morning. 

Kaz was a creature of habit when it came to his belongings and even in this house, he remained the same. His clothes were in the wood wardrobe on the other side of the room. The weapons he brought were under the bed, in case her family decided to explore places they shouldn’t. The bed was neatly made, the small desk in the corner with no more papers than before. 

The only thing that had changed were the candles, but they were there for a reason and nothing else. There were five or six of them, all strategically set to Kaz’s needs, making it easier to go wherever he wanted without taking one with him. 

The closest one was set right next to his book and an empty green vase. Except that it wasn’t empty anymore.

A small bunch of bright orange flowers sat in it, as fresh as they came, from the celebration they had a few moments before. And something else caught her eye.

A similar pot with pithi in it rested next to his book, still untouched. She looked back at him, confused. 

“I don’t understand.”

“Your cousin seemed very adamant in letting me know this tradition includes both bride and groom,” he said, standing up. Inej didn’t even need to ask which cousin was it. Ellyna, much like herself when she met him, didn’t seem a bit scared of Kaz. 

“There’s a lot of traditions I decided not to follow,” she said. “And I didn’t think you’d be comfortable having so many hands touching you.”

He nodded, reaching for the pithi. “What about just yours, then?”

Inej stared at him, speechless. She hadn’t expected him to join her in any of it— all she wanted was for them to be married under the eyes of the Saints, for their marriage to be blessed by them and her family. 

“I told you before, Inej. I want you to have the wedding you always imagined.”

“It’s your wedding too,” she argued.

“And I want to be a part of this celebration, with you.”

“This is a Suli tradition. You don’t have to do it, not even now. I don’t mind.”

“Not once have I done something I didn’t want to. I won’t start today.”

His eyes were firm and clear. Kaz was sure about this, there was no doubt in her mind about it. He shed his wool jacket, putting it on the back of the chair. Her eyes went straight to his bare arms where the R tattoo, now faded over the years, remained. 

“May I?” 

She nodded.

Inej watched him slowly run his fingers through it, feeling the texture of the paste on his own skin first. It was something they had learned together when they started shedding their armor for each other: it needed to feel good on themselves first before they decided to try it on one another. It made things slower than expected, but it made it easier if they knew what to expect.

When his fingers brushed against her skin, ever so gently, Inej couldn’t help but gasp at the contact. Even now, Kaz touched her like he was touching something holy. It was a silly thought, she had realized back then, and Kaz himself would’ve scoffed at the notion of it, bringing up something sacred when it had no place in his life. But he never stopped being gentle and careful around her. There was always a question, always waiting for permission, for confirmation. 

He didn’t leave more than a small portion of the pithi on her cheek. No tremors, no flinch. Inej couldn’t help but smile.

“Your turn,” he said.

Inej watched him for a moment longer, before gathering the paste on her hands. 

The moment passed slowly as she repeated his motion, smearing the past on his bare arms first, pulling him closer to her and never taking her eyes off of him. Even after almost ten years, Kaz managed to surprise her with these big gestures he loved to make. Her ship, her parents, a house, his plentiful information to help her with her job, and now this. This faithless boy willing to be a part of a ritual he had little to no knowledge of, in a culture and a religion he was not a part of, just to fulfill a childhood dream of a little girl who had never seen anything cruel in the world yet.

“Tell me what you’re doing”, he asked, and she knew it was more than curiosity in that request. There wasn’t a situation Kaz would’ve walked himself into without having any information about it. Over the years, he had managed to learn more about the Suli culture than she would’ve expected, and as foolish as he might have thought all these ceremonies and celebrations to be, the importance of it for her was more than enough reason for him to do some research about it too — even if that meant asking her mother about it.

No, this was for him. To keep him grounded as she touched him in a different way. He asked that of her, sometimes, to talk to him, when they didn’t know if what they were about to do would trigger him. He did the same for her, and sometimes it was enough. Sometimes it was not.

“My people do this ceremony the day before our wedding day,” she started, mixing the paste without taking her eyes off of him. “It’s a way for the Saints to bless the couple for their new life together.”

He raised his brow but said nothing. His lack of faith had remained untouched even after all these years, as much as hers remained strong, despite the challenges along the way.  Inej continued, dipping her fingers into the pot and smearing the paste up his arms.

“Usually the married women of the caravan are the ones to apply it, because they have already received the blessing of the Saints. But it’s not uncommon that loved ones do it too, regardless of their marriage status.”

“I imagine the blessings prevail, then. Regardless of who is giving them.”

“Yes,” she answered, running her hands up his arms to his shoulder, staining his white shirt in the process. “The Saints are willing to bless even the faithless souls.”

“Of course they are,” he murmured, the irony still present in his tone. Inej smiled before continuing to bless her shevrati. Her hands moved across his collarbone to his neck, leaving the paste behind.

“It is also meant to keep the evil spirits away.” She felt his eyes on her, but didn’t meet his gaze, choosing to focus on the scar on the left side of the skin between his neck and shoulder, covering it as if it would be able to heal him. “Keep us safe.”

Inej waited for his response. Part of her wanted him to assure her they were safe, they would be safe, but even now, Kaz did not offer her kind lies. The scar was still pink under her thumb, so far and yet so close to a place where it might kill him. Inej had a matching one on the back of her neck that she acquired mere weeks before coming to Ravka.

“Powerful as you believe them to be, “ Kaz said instead, voice low, “your Saints won’t be able to keep me away. Not if that’s your wish.”

“I don’t believe you to have an evil soul, Kaz.”

At last, she looked up at him, finding his eyes set on her with such intensity that made her nearly undone. “You are not marrying a good man, Inej.”

“No,” she agreed. “But I am not marrying the demon you think you are either.”

There was a moment of utter silence as Inej continued to spread the paste on his skin. It was funny, if she thought about it, how far they had come together, how much they had learned from one another, how much they had conquered and lost through it all, and yet there were still parts of each other they were quite unable to reach. 

There wasn’t much to say at the moment, at least not to contribute to this conversation. As much as he might want her, Kaz was still mindful of making sure she knew exactly who he was and how useless it was to dream of making him something he was not.  Not that she attempted to. After all, she fell in love with him at his worst version of himself.

Yes, he was not kind or good or the ideal partner one might choose to spend the rest of their lives together. But he was hers. He broke so many boundaries, crossed so many lines, but never the ones that would make him equal to the people Inej despised the most. Kaz didn’t lie to her either and, despite his beliefs, he had shown her the boy that lived within the monster.

When he touched her, no matter where or for what reason, it was always with her permission. He watched her quietly and demanded nothing of her. As Kerch as he might be, Kaz would seem perfectly content to give something for nothing if it meant to make her happy. 

And Inej loved him just as much as he loved her.

Her hands returned to the pot between them and gathered the rest of the yellow paste and cupped his cheeks, thumbs stroking his pale skin, leaving a yellow stain behind. Still mindful of his need for an anchor, she continued to speak.

“The flowers are chosen to fit the color and bring happiness as well,” she said, voice soft. Her eyes moved slowly, examining his face as she traced the sharp lines of his jaw. “But my father once told me that they also are a symbol of love.”

Kaz was silent for a long moment before saying, “were these your favorite?”

“They used to be,” she answered honestly, looking at his recently painted chin. “Before.”

Before everything had been taken away from her, before her innocence and youth were stolen. Marigolds were beautiful and still held great significance in her heart, but it was yet another reminder of what she could’ve been.

“They don’t have them in Ravka. Your favorite ones.”

“They don’t.”

She moved her eyes to his, finding them unfocused, distant. A smile was brought to her lips. 

“You’re making your scheming face.” His eyes focused back on her face. Kaz raised a brow. 

“Am I?”

Her smile widened, admiring the man before her. He was mostly covered by the pithi paste by her own hands, blessing this faithless man in front of her for all that she could. His skin was shining with the bright color, dark hair and eyes giving such a contrast that made him all the more handsome in her eyes. 

His eyes had still not left hers; he still hadn’t pulled away from her and the urge to be closer to him only grew as her hands moved back to cup his cheek once again.

Standing on her tiptoes, Inej closed the distance between them, moving her lips slowly against his, relishing in the way it filled her with warmth. 

“Thank you,” Inej sighed against his lips, noses touching. Kaz let out a rough laugh and she could feel his breath warm against her skin. “For doing this, all of it. For marrying me.”

Kaz raised his brow. “You asked.”

He had said that as if all she ever had to do was ask anything of him and he’d comply. She smiled. Perhaps that was true.

“And you said yes.”

The muscles of his jaw relaxed as he watched her face closely, as if he was considering his next words. After a moment, his thumb caressed her cheek.  “I just want to be yours.”