Chapter Text
13 P.I.C.
It was quiet when Kaz Brekker woke up.
He narrowed his eyes. Too quiet.
Kaz turned to the side. A baby stared back at him. Kaz blinked. Aashvi blinked in response. Kaz pressed his lips together to keep the smile from growing on his face as he scooped his daughter close. She giggled in delight, settling herself to lie on Kaz’s chest as Kaz craned his neck up to see her properly. Aashvi’s chubby little fingers grasped onto Kaz’s shirt, and she gasped, seemingly surprised that there was skin under the material. Kaz laughed quietly, chest rumbling, making his daughter squeal in delight. They sat like that for a moment, Kaz smoothing her hair back as she hit his chest softly.
“Up, Baba,” Aashvi babbled, her vocabulary a little slim, as she was only a year old. “Up!”
Kaz clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Not very polite, Ash. What do you say when you ask for things?”
Aashvi scrunched her brow in thought. “Up now, or stab!”
Kaz grinned widely and sat up, holding a hand to Aashvi’s back to stabilize her. He kissed her raven curls softly, grasped his cane in one hand, his daughter in the other, and stood up to head downstairs. “Good girl.”
-
Inej looked up as her husband entered the kitchen. She pressed a finger to her lips, and smiled softly at the sight of Aashvi, thumb in mouth, curled up against the infamous Kaz Brekker, getting drool on his pajama shirt buttons.
“Hello, baby.” The ex-Wraith whispered excitedly, gesturing for Kaz to bring their daughter closer. “Did you like the surprise I left in our bed for you?” Inej said, nodding towards Aashvi. Kaz shook his head fondly as he handed his daughter off to his wife. Aashvi clapped her hands against Inej’s cheeks eagerly.
“Ama!” The baby cried in delight. Inej scrunched her nose, which Aashvi babbled at. Inej shushed her gently, setting Aashvi on her hip.
“May I ask why exactly we are whispering, darling?” Kaz asked, keeping his voice low.
Inej pointed at the little boy scribbling on paper in the corner of the room. “Jordan’s writing numbers. He’s almost at a hundred.”
Kaz’s eyes widened as he leaned on his cane, craning to get a better look at his son. “A hundred? He’s four!”
Inej’s lips quirked. “What’s the matter, Kaz? You couldn’t write up to a hundred at age four?”
Kaz scoffed. “I don’t know what I could do, but I know that Rose definitely can’t. Our kid is smarter than Pim and Anika’s.” He said smugly, expertly dodging the hand Inej tried to hit him with.
“Baba!” Jordan finally noticed his father, and Inej laughed as Kaz almost got knocked over by his excited son. “I counted all the way up to a hundred!”
“Did you now?” Kaz asked, faux-shocked. “Well, that’s mighty impressive, soldier.” He tilted his son’s head up and squinted. Jordan looked up eagerly, still wrapped around his father’s legs, bright brown eyes gleaming in anticipation. “What would you do if I asked you to count to a hundred and fifty?”
Inej’s face dropped as she looked up at her husband. She glared at him, and then watched Jordan’s bright smile drop and her son blink confusedly. Then he furrowed his brow and buried his face in his dad’s leg. Inej’s hand struck out again, and Kaz let her hit land this time, clearly knowing he had messed up. “Kaz,” she hissed. “He’s four!”
Kaz rolled his eyes and nodded his head in acknowledgment of his wife. Then he patted Jordan on the head, getting his son’s attention. “Cheer up, sol. How about you go get dressed and we’ll go get waffles to celebrate your achievement, hmm?”
Jordan immediately perked up and nodded, heading off towards his room to follow his father’s orders. Kaz spread his hands, as if telling Inej, “See? The child is clearly fine.” Inej closed her eyes and let out a small, breathy huff, and shifted Aashvi on her hip. Kaz kissed her hair softly, and Inej smiled softly and closed her eyes.
“You need to stop with the expectations, Kaz. He’s four.” Kaz’s eyes flickered.
“He’s growing up in the Barrel, Inej. He needs to excel, or he’ll never survive.” Inej stayed silent. Kaz took Aashvi from her grasp and gently tossed the baby in the air. Inej softened at the sight of the usually hardened criminal smiling at their daughter’s gasps and coos of delight.
“Alright, alright. Just don’t be too hard on him. Now, I believe you promised waffles?”
-
18 P.I.C.
Jesper sighed and straightened his son’s bowtie. Conor furrowed his brow and batted at his dad’s hands. “No!” The eight year old whined. “Da, it’s itchy.”
Jesper sucked on teeth and tilted his head, there was nothing he could do. “Of course it’s itchy. Your Papa decided that stuffing you into a starched collar would be a good idea, and then decided to use a ridiculous Kerch tie.”
“His Papa can hear you, Jes.” Wylan’s voice chimed in from the bathroom. Jesper froze and grimaced guiltily. His betraying son laughed at his plight, and Jesper roughly ruffled his auburn hair in revenge. Conor screwed up his face in response.
“He looks like a little banker, Wy!” Jesper called back, and could practically hear Wylan’s eye roll. “And he clearly doesn’t want to go!”
“I’m sorry, Jes, but the Merchant Council has been pressuring me for almost a year to bring my ‘new addition to the family’. I’m trying to get that Child Safety bill passed, you know, and I need anyone I can get on my side.” Jesper softened at the clear frustration in his husband’s tone, and as Wylan came out of the bathroom, adjusting his shirt cuffs, Jesper came up behind him and wrapped his arms around Wylan’s waist. He leaned down to rest his chin on Wylan’s shoulder. and pulled his lover close. Wylan’s lips quirked into a smile as he put a hand on the side of Jesper’s face fondly.
The mercher planted a kiss on his husband’s cheek, which Jesper leaned into, and then they were loudly interrupted by Conor gagging dramatically at their affection. Wylan swatted playfully at his son, and pulled away from Jesper to undo Conor’s tie. Jesper made a noise of anguish, all his hard work gone to waste, but Conor’s exclamation of approval silenced his whining. Wylan combed his fingers through the ruddy auburn hair that Jesper had messed up earlier, and he tilted Conor’s chin up. The boy gazed up at him, those golden Shu eyes sharply contrasting against the Kaelish freckles that littered the boy’s face.
“You don’t like the Kerch knot, is that right?” Conor nodded.
“I don’ ken how to do it, and it feels tight and awful!” The boy had picked up quite a bit of the Kerch language in the year he’d lived on the island, but his native Kaelish slipped into his wording sometimes. Wylan always smiled when it did. It always reminded him of the Ice Court Heist, back when Matthias was still learning Kerch and structured his sentences to a melody only he seemed to keep tempo to.
“Alright, little fox. Let’s make a deal. If you remember how to tie a Wandering Isle style knot all by yourself, I’ll let you wear it for the gala tonight. If not, you have to let Jesper do the Kerch knot and you have to keep it in place and not complain. Sound good?” Conor’s face brightened and he nodded eagerly.
Wylan stepped back and Jesper muffled a laugh by pressing his mouth to his husband’s hair and disguising it as a kiss.
“You think you’re hot stuff, huh?” Jesper drawled fondly. Wylan shrugged, looking smug.
“That’s what you always tell me, my love.” He turned to face Jesper and slid his hand in his husband’s jacket, wrapping his arms around Jesper’s torso. Jesper’s nose nudged against Wylan’s own, and-
“Done!” Wylan and Jesper whipped around. Conor looked up innocently, golden eyes gleaming. His tie was perfectly knotted. A perfect Kaelish knot.
Wylan’s eyes widened. Jesper laughed, long and hard.
Conor pouted. “I still really don’t want to go, you know.” Wylan sighed and rubbed his temples. Jesper grimaced.
“Conor, sometimes in life you have to do things you don’t want to. This is one of them.” Wylan said firmly, putting his foot down on the matter.
Conor whined and stomped his shoes on the hardwood. “I don’t wanna!”
Jesper’s jaw tightened. “Well, that’s too bad, isn’t it? Because you’re going, young man, whether we have to drag you there or not!” He snapped, words cracking like a whip. Conor stifled a flinch, and guilt rolled over Jesper in waves.
Wylan shot Jesper a glare that could melt ice, and hit him lightly on the arm. Jesper’s temper deflated and he settled a hand on Conor’s hair. “I’m sorry, a bhobain. But this is important to your Papa and I. You can do it if it’s important to us, yeah?”
Conor hesitated, then nodded firmly.
Jesper grinned. “Alright, a bhobain. Let’s knock the socks off of those merchers.” Conor gave a bright, wide, gap-toothed grin, and Jesper ruffled his hair fondly. Wylan smiled at his little family. He’d never felt so completed.
-
25 P.I.C.
Matthias woke up knowing something was wrong.
He went downstairs, he made his wife breakfast, himself coffee, and his daughter tea. It was their routine, every Tuesday, Freja would get to skip the first few hours of her lessons at the Little Palace to go to worship with Matthias, and then they’d go out to breakfast at a diner of Freja’s choosing.
This Tuesday, something felt off. Matthias knocked on his daughter’s door softly. “Frej?” Nothing. “Freja? My pyret? It’s time for worship.”
Absolutely nothing. Matthias sighed and opened the door slowly. “If you wanna sleep in and not go to worship, that’s fine, but you’ll have to go to school-“
His voice trailed off to an abrupt stop. Matthias furrowed his brows in confusion. Freja wasn’t there. Her blankets were folded back, but not messy like she’d slept in them, just enough for someone to know she’d been in the bed.
Her window whistled slightly, drawing Matthias’ attention. It was open, flapping slightly in the breezy Ravkan summer wind. He put his weight on his back foot and held onto the doorframe slightly. His daughter was ten, she couldn’t possibly have run away.
Could she?
“Nina!” Matthias called, eyes still searching his daughter’s room. “Neens, have you seen Freja?”
Nina stumbled up behind him, still rubbing sleep out of her eyes. “Huh? Wassup?” Matthias grabbed his wife’s shoulders, shaking her slightly. Nina blinked awake, looking incredulous.
“Freja, our daughter? Have you seen her?” Nina gave Matthias a look, one he usually deserved, the what-are-you-even-talking-about look.
“Why would I have seen Freja? She’s asleep, isn’t she?” Matthias shook his head, and his hand flew to his mouth. Where the hell had his daughter gone? What happened that had made her run away? She’d given off no signs, no intentions of escaping into the night. They had tucked her into bed last night like usual, and kissed her goodnight, and left.
Nina frowned and peered into the room. “Matthias,” she said shakily, reality finally washing over her like a wave. “Where is our daughter?”
Matthias shook his head, entirely at a loss. Nina drummed her hands against his chest. “We can’t lose her again, Matthias, who could’ve possibly taken her?” Matthias’ face shifted to complete and utter horror as the possibility slammed into him, like running head first at a stone wall.
What if it was the Drüskelle? What if they had found out who had been spilling their secrets to the Ravkan government for years? What if it was Brum? Matthias staggered and hit the doorframe, eyes frantically stripping the room for any piece of evidence. He stepped inside and towards the bed in three big strides.
No sign of forced entry, no sign of blood, not one sign of struggle. Not even a ripple of movement in the water bowl that Nina and Matthias made their Tidemaker daughter keep in her room, just in case.
And the small little stuffed crow, the stuffed bird that they had given to her when she was just five years old, the one she never let go of, was nowhere in sight.
She hadn’t been taken. She’d run. Matthias let out a shaky breath. “Nina, love, she wasn’t kidnapped.” He finally gets out, the words tasting like salt crackers in his mouth.
Nina blinked a few times in confusion, her face screwing up to corrrect him, but Matthias gestured to the water bowl. Nina’s words died on the spot.
“Where the hell is our ten year old?!” Nina shouted, hands running through her hair frantically. Matthias moved to comfort her, rubbing her back as he pulled her close to his chest.
“I don’t know, röed fetla, I truly don’t. But we’ll find her, I swear it. We won’t leave her again. Let’s make a plan, yes?” Nina nodded wordlessly, and Matthias’ mind whirred in comfort. Plans were always the best for both of them. Someone telling them what to do, where to go, even if sometimes they didn’t listen, it was how Nina and Matthias were raised.
Matthias ran a hand through his spiky blond hair. “Ok, ok. We’ll meet with Zoya and tell her, and she’ll probably send a search party or something out. Then we can start searching ourselves. Any places she’s ever wanted to go, any places she’s talked about over the past few days. I’ll try and find something in her journal…” Nina shot him a look, cutting him off.
“Matthias! That’s a huge invasion of her privacy!” She hissed, and rubbed the bridge of her nose. Matthias threw his hands up.
“Well maybe she should’ve thought about that before stealing away in the night like a bandit!” He exclaimed. Nina glowered at him. He was getting too angry, he knew it, but he couldn’t help it.
Matthias took in a large breath, and then let it out slowly. Then he did it again. And again.
Nina placed her arms around his torso and buried her face in his shoulder. “We’ll find her, my love. I swear, we will. We won’t be separated from her again, I won’t let us.”
-
Miles away, Freja Zenik was on a train. She kicked her legs back and forth cheerily, and played subtly with the liquid in her drink. Her stuffed crow, Kaz Birdker, sat on the seat next to her, snuggled close as always. Her mother had laughed uproariously when she’d named him that, and her Uncle Kaz had just smiled at her, even though he’d looked like he was being repeatedly stabbed with a rusty knife.
“What do you think, Kaz Birdker? Will they come looking for me or not?”
The toy said nothing. Freja nodded, as if contemplating his words. “I think they will. I hope they will. I’ll be really sad if they don’t.”
She sipped her tea delicately. Kaz Birdker stared into the distance. All that was left to do was wait.