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Ever since you were born, your parents had been gathering money to move away from Ketterdam. Move somewhere safer to raise you. Your mother had become pregnant accidentally, they weren’t meaning to have kids - not in that age, they were barely 19 when they had you. But they kept you, falling in love with you the moment they saw you. You were poor, but a happy family anyway.
Finally, when you were nine years old, your parents found a solution. A kind merchant had offered to help you move to Ravka, have land, enough food for the rest of your lives and the most important of all, you’d be safe from all those filthy criminals that tormented Ketterdam. You’d get a happy childhood, the one your parents had always dreamed of you to have.
Hope had gotten the best of them, and the man turned out to be a very skillful conman, and soon you found yourselves at the street, penniless and hungry. The greed of Ketterdam had swallowed your happiness and later, after the Plague taking them, you had swore for revenge against the man who had tricked you.
Robbert van Delden, the name would sit as tight in your head that it could as well be tattooed in your brain for as long as it needed. Until you’d get him killed by your own gun - no, blade. You wanted to make him suffer for as long as possible. You wanted his life to end in agony, his blood coating the walls as you’d beat him and slash him, hearing his screams, begs of mercy, finally him begging you to just kill him. But you wouldn’t, you’d torture him until he wouldn’t have the strength to scream anymore, and then leave him there to bleed out, or to die from thirst or hunger. You would have gotten your revenge.
And then maybe you wouldn’t feel so empty inside anymore. Maybe you could even move on after that. It was the only thing that kept you going anymore. To take down that monster called Robbert van Delden once and for all.
You met a boy your age not long after who had gone through a lot too. You told him about van Delden, and he, in return, told you about Hertzoon. You figured that Ketterdam had a lot of twisted merchants, maybe van Delden and Hertzoon had even worked together, due to so similar and calculated pattern.
You learned the boy was named Kaz, and you introduced yourself as well, and so you began working together. You tricked people, Kaz had found out that he was really skilled with cards and lockpicking, and taught you too. You stole food together, two minds thinking better than just one. The only difference with your personality and wit was that he didn’t stand touch, where you had no problem with it. You bought a pair of leather gloves for him just so he’d stand it just a little bit better, and soon you two were known for being so young, but with your skills being extraordinary. People had tried to offer you a place in their gangs, but you had always said no, you planned to kill those two merchants that had ruined your lives, help each other hunt them down, and then leave Ketterdam. Maybe you’d stay together, maybe you’d separate after that, but the main focus was to kill van Delden and Hertzoon.
Despite all your will to have revenge, neither of you didn’t think to actually meet the merchants ever again - until one day, years after living in streets with Kaz, you saw him. Van Delden stood there at the shop, and Kaz seemed to freeze too when he saw him. Without even thinking, you both pushed through the crowd, but were stopped by a giant bruiser.
“Shop’s closed.” he grunted at you, looking at Kaz and you, probably noticing the identical storms in your eyes.
“I can see it’s open.” Kaz growled at the big guy.
“You’ll have to wait.”
Kaz was starting to lose the last of his patience, as he growled, “I need to see Jakob Hertzoon.”
The brute raised his eyebrows. “Who?”
Kaz looked at him with eyes that would have scared you if he looked at you like that. He looked like he could have stabbed the brute right there as his hand shot out to point at the window, and you noticed he was pointing at van Delden - and you understood. “Jakob fucking Hertzoon. I want to talk to him.”
The bruiser looked at you two like you were out of your minds. “Get your head straight, lad. That ain’t no Hertzoon. That’s Pekka Rollins. Want to get anywhere at the Barrel, you’d best learn his name. Now get out of here, both of you.”
Kaz pursed his lips, clearly wanting to keep arguing. But instead, he took a few breaths and then turned around, disappearing into the crowd again. You followed, trying to keep up with Kaz. You had seen him angry before, but now he looked more furious than ever before.
You had walked through the streets for a while, not talking, Kaz trying to let his steaming anger out the best he could. When he finally stopped by your squat, legs basically quivering from all the walking, you had gone inside and sat down with him, offering him a drink which he accepted.
“They were both Pekka Rollins,” you mumbled after a few minutes of you sitting there quietly. “They’re all the same person.”
Kaz turned to look at you slowly, frowning slightly. “What?”
“Van Delden. Hertzoon. Rollins. They’re the same person.”
Suddenly, it dawned to him too. That’s why it had been so similar pattern, how in sync they had acted. Rollins knew how to charm fools - children, parents, every poor person. Milk all the money he could possibly get off of people, and use their trust to trick them. It didn’t matter who got hurt.
You both laid awake that night on your makeshift beds that were closer than most at the squat, but not too close. You could have used each other’s warmth, but you always respected Kaz’s boundaries with everything. So you were just staring at the roof quietly, planning what to do next. Eventually, you came into a conclusion that it would be the best to join a gang - Dregs, to be exact. Become equals to Rollins, feared, ruthless, respected. The kinds children would be scared with so they would not run off too far. So that day, you went straight to the Slat, asked to see Per Haskell and joined the Dregs. You’d be rising in ranks in no time - your hate and will for revenge would take care of it.
—
It had been ten years from that moment, and everything had gone like you planned. You both were Per Haskell’s right hands, running the business for him. Most respected you more than they respected Haskell - only newbies didn’t, because they hadn’t seen you in action.
You were always buried in work together, planning for heists. Inej came by every once in a while, providing you information about your new target for a heist before slipping away again. Over the years, you had gathered a group of the most trusted people and called yourselves the Crows. You were closely working together, often pulling heists only by the seven of you.
But at some point of your partnership, after working so closely with Kaz - you had noticed you had developed new feelings for him, past partnership, past your friendship. They had been brewing for years, ever since you were teenagers, but it took a lot more time to catch what was it.
Feelings.
For someone like Kaz Brekker.
Other Crows had of course noticed it. Maybe you had too, but you had ignored it for ages. They also claimed that Kaz clearly loves you too, but one of you had to come forward in order to find happiness. But at least that couldn’t be true, even if your feelings were true, there was no way Kaz’s would be.
And even if they were, you didn’t believe you’d be ready to anything romantic. Loving someone didn’t fit into your life situation, in your plans. Happiness was overrated, you didn’t need happiness, you needed revenge. Just like Kaz needed that too.
So you kept ignoring those feelings, pretending you weren’t feeling something deeper than friendship towards him.
And unbeknownst to you, but Kaz did the exactly same thing. He ignored his feelings, his deep affection towards you. He believed you wouldn’t like him back anyway, and even if you did, some silly romance would only distract you. It was better to have a professional relationship - maybe somewhat friendly, even. Kaz didn’t want friends, nor did he need them, but he still thought of you as a friend. You had stood by him since he was just a boy, just like he had stood by you. You understood each other more than anyone else, and when you worked together, things were done efficiently.
That’s why he never said anything, and neither did you. Maybe in the future, when things had gotten better, or then not. But whatever would happen, you’d always have a special place for each other, just a little bit of warmth in your cold hearts.