Chapter Text
After helping Sankta Alina destroy the Fold and save Ravka, Inej expected her life on the sea to be wrought with some new world-altering chaos. She was pleasantly surprised when, beside the occasional slaver ship putting up a bigger fight than anticipated, she found herself enjoying life.
Mal, Nadia and the twins made for pleasant companions. After weeks spent in close quarters avoiding the urge to perform as the Wraith, gathering their secrets to add to her collection, she was slowly learning what made them tick through amiable conversation.
Mal was a bit of a mystery. He was cracking jokes over mapping routes and aiming nearly as good as Jesper with his rifle, but he didn't talk about Alina. He didn't talk about the past at all, really, but he did seem set on the possibility of a better future.
Nadia and Tamar were almost always found huddled together on the deck, appreciating the unmatched beauty of the True Sea. They wielded their weapons, both in hand and in body, against slavers with incredible finesse; they acted as one unit, playing off of each other's strengths. Inej admired their devotion to each other.
Tolya begged almost every night to read the crew a section of poetry before they turned in to rest, and sometimes Inej was the only one who took him up on the offer. He read beautifully, with conviction in his voice and lamplight playing off of his tanned skin below deck. There had been a few moments in Ravka and Shu Han where Inej had thought that perhaps Tolya saw her as more than a friend. Intense stares and lingering touches filled her memory.
On a celebratory night filled with drinking and raucous laughter, Inej gathered up the courage to ask.
Tolya smiled softly at her, placing a gentle hand against her shoulder. "I revere you as a worthy companion, Inej, but I have my faith, and my books. I've never wanted more."
There was disappointment that sunk in her stomach after his words, but there was also relief. Inej wasn't interested in Tolya as anything other than a good friend, but entertaining the thought had kept her mind off of Kaz Brekker and his infuriatingly detached way of showing affection.
Nina had told her and Jesper that Kaz was too scared to admit he felt something for her, and although she had thought it, that was the first time she had heard it out loud. It had hung in the air uncomfortably, holding the silence hostage. Inej could remember feeling her own heart speed up in her chest. She knew Nina had felt it, too.
So as Inej tossed and turned in her hammock aboard Nikolai's ship, desperate to kick the image of Kaz out of her mind, the hallucination she'd seen in Shu Han came back to haunt her yet again.
Kaz's hand was wrapped tentatively around her back, pulling her close until their chests were flush against each other. His body heat radiating against her own was making her head spin. The light touch of his other hand against the side of her face was keeping her sane. Kaz was looking at her with eyes she had only ever seen when he'd been too slow to look away, shame overtaking his features and a bad heat creeping over hers as they silently agreed to stare at the floor. But there was no shame here, not in this false recreation of the man she craved.
His face crept closer to hers, and she could feel his breath pulsing against the skin of her lips, and if she could just push an inch forward she could feel -
but she could not.
Her eyes flew open and she caught herself before the hammock had the chance to spin her onto the floor. She was panting as if she'd just run the rooftops of Ketterdam, eyes darting around the cabin to make sure no one else was awake.
The image had come to her every night since departing from Ravka, taunting her, the ghost of a future she would never possess.
She had loved being out at sea, finding a purpose for herself with no deed or title held over her name.
But Inej Ghafa had unfinished business in Ketterdam.