#socfanfic

[wylanvanwreck]

Kanej // Lockpicking // Oneshot Fanfiction

Requested by @roses-and-starlight Characters: Kaz Brekker and Inej Ghafa Basic Summary: Kaz teaches Inej the basics of lockpicking after joining the Dregs (pre-SOC timeline). Word Count: 1,357 Oneshot/drabble requests: Open Sidenotes: I had to do a tiny bit of research on the mechanics of lockpicking, but it may not be entirely accurate. I apologize in advance. Otherwise, enjoy!

“This isn’t what I had in mind when you suggested this,” said Inej, her arms folded tightly across her chest against the cold.

A bitter rain had descended upon Ketterdam that day, a chill resonating within the thick atmosphere near the Geldcanal. It left Inej trembling in the loose scraps she’d received from the Dregs upon her inception, and the winds cut through the fabric like a brutal, frozen knife, landing on the skin underneath. Goose pimples pricked over the skin of her bare arms. At least the strong scent of salt from the harbors had been diluted.

“What better practice than experiencing it under accurate conditions?” Kaz leaned against the door of the only mansion enshrouded in the long shadow of the Geldrenner Hotel, drumming his fingers along the cruel beak of the crow head adorning the handle of his cane. When Inej had first seen it, she’d felt colder than she did at that moment, but the chill didn’t last nearly as long. She barely cast it a glance, her eyes trailing the exterior of the mansion Kaz had considered a target. Apparently, its owner was out of Ketterdam on business, likely to do with the foreign exchange of new goods likely to start rolling into the harbors on cargo-laden ships. Her gaze fell away from the hulking mass of the house to what Kaz might call the bulls-eye of the target: the lock of the door, recently polished to a gleam.

“Why here?” Her teeth started chattering. “Why a mercher’s home, of all places? What if it isn’t empty? What if there are guard dogs? What if there’s stadwatch nearby? What if there’s children inside?”

“Simple questions, simple answers.” Kaz dug into his pocket and flashed a whistle. “This will take care of the mongrels.” He returned the whistle, then retrieved a small pistol from a pocket within his coat. “Dispatch any guards with a bullet in the leg.” In seconds, the little weapon had disappeared back to its rightful place. “And children can be silenced with some convincing. But if you’re quiet, you won’t have to deal with them this late at night.”

Inej thought what if must feel like to be a child, all tucked into bed and immersed in wistful dreams, oblivious to the shadows skulking under the same roof that hovered over their head. It made her stomach churn. “Couldn’t I practice on a safe instead, back at the Slat?”

“What’s the merit in that?”

“There’s certainly no merit in this, either.”

Kaz listed his head and squinted at her. “When a bigger heist needs tending to, you won’t be safe and sound picking locks with all the time in the world on your side. You’ll have to work quickly, otherwise it’s off to Hellgate with you. So.” In a flash, two thin slivers of metal danced along his knuckles into his leather-clad fingers. He held them out to her. His rock salt rasp was low, almost menacing. “Try not to break them.”

That was the voice of Dirtyhands, the voice of the man that would commit any crime if the price was right. It was a voice that made Inej question whether or not she was talking to a boy barely a year older than her or some kind of a monster. It was a voice she could hardly imagine he possessed as a small child. Tentatively, she slid the lockpicks from his hands and knelt down at the door knob. “Guidance, please.”

Bracing against his cane, Kaz brought himself to a crouch. “I think step one’s obvious.”

The sarcasm in his tone compelled Inej to roll her eyes. She examined the slim pieces of metal. One was the pick itself, the other with a sharp bend at its tip - a wrench. With quaking hands, she inserted the tip of the latter piece into the lock at an angle.

“Correct,” said Kaz. “Now the other piece.”

Inej flicked her braid over her shoulder and slid the pick beneath the other. “Now what?”

“A lock has pins within its mechanism. You’ll have to test the amount of pressure you apply to each one to disengage them before you’ll be able to turn it. It’ll require some maneuvering on your part.”

She swallowed hard. “What if it breaks? The lockpick, I mean?”

“Do you really think I’m not prepared for the worst? Now stop with the ‘what if’s’ and get to work.”

Inej wanted nothing more than to kick the cane out from under him and watch him faceplant onto the ground, but now was not the time for petty games, especially when the stadwatch could be making their rounds within the district this very moment - Kaz had neglected to inform her on whether or not it’d be an issue, but she was certain it had to be.

She took a deep breath and leaned in close, carefully slipping the pick through the pins in the lock.

“Too slow.” Kaz’s breath tickled the edge of Inej’s ear. “You need more momentum.”

Inej inhaled sharply through her nose and jerked the pick back and forth. She heard a tiny click. That was easy, she thought triumphantly, and started to withdraw the pick.

“You’re not done.”

“It clicked!” she exclaimed in a whisper.

Kaz smirked. “Really? Then you disengaged one pin, but not all of them. Keep going.”

Inej pursed her lips and adjusted her grip on the pick. Her wrist flicked as she tried to disengage another pin. “What are we even looking for in here?”

“A DeKappel worth a couple coffers full of kruge. Nothing too strenuous for a novice of the Dregs.”

A painting? Inej continued with the lock, but then she froze. “Wait,” she said. “You don’t intend for me to go in by myself, do you?” When Kaz just looked at her, she only sighed and shook her head. “Fine.”

“Really? You don’t want further guidance?”

“I can take care of myself.” Another pin clicked. “Now shut up and let me focus.”

Kaz’s eyebrows shot into his hairline, but then he shrugged and turned his gaze to the lock.

The next few minutes were a struggle for Inej. She was baffled as to how she managed to release two of the pins, and for a long while it seemed like she couldn’t unfasten another. Frustration built within her chest like a festering infection, plaguing her mind with doubts. What if she couldn’t do this? What if she wasn’t fit for the Dregs?

No, she was being foolish. If Kaz could do it - a teenage boy with little more experience than her of what the real world was like to people like them - then she could do it, too.

Click. Her annoyance started to dwindle like a candle that had been lit too long. A new flame of hope supplanted it within her heart. Click. Two minutes. Click. Another three. Click.

“Got it,” said Inej, turning the lock with satisfaction.

Kaz rose up alongside her, relying on his cane to do so smoothly. “Perfect. A few more attempts, and you’ll be an expert in no time. Or, at the very least, much quicker.” He nodded to the door. “I’ll head in.”

Inej planted her hand around the knob before he could reach it and narrowed her eyes at him. “I thought I was going in for the grab.”

“I changed my mind.”

“Change it back. You said you needed a spider, a ghost. Someone who can be invisible, who can be a spy. Let me be a thief, too. Let me be invisible. Let me help you.”

He looked down at her, the muscles in his jaw working. She wasn’t sure if he was agitated or amused, and his tone offered no hints when he said, “Fine. But you’ll need these.” He drew out the whistle, the pistol, and a couple extra picks.

Inej took them and swiftly placed them in her own pockets. Then she entered the house without another word, leaving Kaz alone in the freezing cold with nothing but his cane. She could’ve sworn he was grinning like an idiot as the door shut behind her.

[wylanvanwreck]

Helnik // Ship to Ravka // Oneshot Fanfiction

Requested by @andromeddea​ Characters: Matthias Helvar, Nina Zenik, Genya Safin Basic Summary: Genya interrogates Matthias about his past as a drüskelle while on the ship home to Ravka. Word Count: 1,542 Oneshot/drabble requests: Open Sidenotes: I haven’t read TGT, so if I butchered Genya’s character at all, it’s simply out of ignorance. I apologize in advance. Otherwise, enjoy!

Matthias had never seen Nina look so peaceful since her affliction with the parem. She leaned against the railing of the ship, gazing wistfully at the rolling waves of the True Sea. The scent of salt hung in the atmosphere surrounding the front deck. Mist rested softly on the thick locks of her light brown hair, dampening her kefta and making her lashes glisten. He was happy to go home with her, to stay by her side and support her in defending the Grisha against his former comrades. A drüskelle he was no more - a thought that drove him mad in Hellgate yet now would make a proud declaration.

But he was still Fjerdan. One look at him in Ravka still posed a threat to his life.

Matthias tugged on his hood, shielding his face from view of the other Grisha roaming around deck. He kept close to Nina, huddled down at the railing with his legs crossed. He’d been waiting for Genya for half an hour. If he was to survive in Ravka, he’d need some kind of disguise whether subtle or drastic. He thought back to when he’d infiltrated the Ice Court with Nina and her crew, how she’d darkened his eyes and hair, how it wasn’t too sufficient in masking his identity from Commander Brum. Genya was supposed to be a one-of-a-kind Tailor. His life was, quite literally, in her hands.

Something kicked him softly in his side. Matthias looked up to see Nina smirking down at him. “What is it?” he asked.

“Stand with me,” she said. “Look out at the sea. You can still see the shadow of Kerch.”

Hesitant to attract attention to himself, Matthias tried to stand as discreetly as possible. He’d gotten halfway up when something tugged from behind him, and he fell right back down on his rear end.

“Oops.” Nina lifted her foot from the tail of his coat, where she’d pinned it to the wooden planks of the deck. “My mistake.”

“It’s forgiven.” Matthias rose and leaned against the railing beside her. He didn’t dare look over his shoulder - he’d seen the Squaller, Zoya, cast him a funny look. At least she wasn’t a potential threat.

Sure enough, the edge of Kerch was visible just at the horizon of the True Sea. When he’d first arrived to Kerch as a prisoner destined to Hellgate, he hated the sight of the place. Ketterdam had been a prison itself, rife with criminals and filth and dishonor. He’d lived his darkest days in the depths of Hellgate. But then Nina walked back into his life. He’d met Inej, Jesper, Wylan, and the demjin. He’d hated them, too, once. Now, as the edge of Kerch started to dissipate from the horizon, he knew he’d miss them. Thank Djel, they all survived the infiltration to the Ice Court and the onslaught of rival gangs after their return. Jan Van Eck may just get to live the rest of his days out in Hellgate, Matthias thought. With Rollins out of business, the Hellshow may come to an end.

Somehow, he doubted that’d be the case.

Nina wiggled her fingers into Matthias’ hand and intertwined them with his, resting her head on his shoulder. The mist clinging to her hair dampened the fabric of his shoulder, bleeding through to the skin underneath. He didn’t mind it. She was warm and soft. He felt comfortable. He felt safe.

His little red bird was by his side.

“Looks like I’ve got front seats to a new rendition of the Princess and the Barbarian, eh?”

Matthias and Nina almost butted heads as they looked over their shoulders. Genya stood with her Tailor’s kit in hand, a small smile dancing on her lips. Nina didn’t miss a beat. “I’m the barbarian.”

Genya laughed. “Ah, yes. Nina, the barbarian, a true wild card at heart. I can see it now, on the stage.” Her gaze flitted to Matthias. “I’m going to need the princess, though, if you don’t mind.”

Relief flooded through Matthias’ veins, dropping his anxiety, but only a little bit. He turned to face her and obeyed her command when she gestured for him to sit down. Nina plopped down beside him, and Genya knelt in front. She clutched his jaw gently in her fingers, turning his face left and right. “All scarred up. I can clear those away, if you wish.”

His marks from Hellgate. Tempting. But it didn’t seem right. “No,” said Matthias.

“He’s stubborn,” said Nina. “You get used to it.”

“We’ll see about that.” Genya opened her kit and studied Matthias’ face a moment longer. “All we really have to do is change your hair color and eyes. It’ll help more than you think.”

“It didn’t fool Brum.”

“Brum knew your face,” pointed out Nina. “He knew you for years. In Ravka, it’s not as likely they’ll recognize you immediately. If that’s the case, I’m sure Genya can give you some wrinkles to lessen the tension.”

Matthias frowned. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“Don’t worry.” Genya plucked out a bottle of dark liquid - tincture, Matthias remembered, back when Nina had done the same to him before infiltrating the Ice Court. “That’s the last thing I’d do to you. Now hold still.”

Matthias sat rigid as a statue as Genya pried open one of his eyes with her fingertips. He resisted the urge to blink when a couple drops of the tincture from the bottle hit the surface of his eye and absorbed into the iris.

“So,” said Genya, adding a couple more drops, “you ditched the drüskelle way of life.” She sat back to review her work. “It wasn’t just because it’s too cold up in Fjerda, is it?”

Matthias tried not to flinch when Genya’s face drew close to check for any inconsistencies. “I don’t mind the cold.”

“You’ve got a knack for humor, don’t you?” Genya winked at Nina as she snickered. “Really, though. Why’d you leave?”

Matthias pursed his lips and glanced at Nina. “It… wasn’t honorable.”

“Honor.” Genya pried open his other eye and proceeded to darken it, too. “A weighty word to throw around in easy conversation. I guess the topic isn’t all that easy, though.” She returned the bottle to her kit. “How was it dishonorable?”

“Genya, come on.” Nina’s tone was light but sincere.

“It’s not an issue.” Matthias reached out and took Nina’s hand again, running his thumb over her knuckles. He nibbled his bottom lip for a moment before he looked Genya in the eye. “You’re human.”

Genya raised a brow. “You think I haven’t noticed?”

“I meant, the Grisha are human. They’re not lesser than the ones the drüskelle would consider natural. My people have committed crimes against yours so heinous, it’s difficult for me to once believe I was so proud to be a soldier in that line of work. The Grisha, their abilities… it’s a beautiful thing.”

Nina’s fingers tightened in his.

Genya stared at him for a long time before raising her hands above his head. His blond hair had grown a few inches since the escape from Hellgate, though the nicks from his botched shave still shown through. “Only curious,” she said, plucking a small pot of antimony from her kit. She worked the powder into his hair. “What led you to the life of a drüskelle in the first place?”

Matthias swallowed hard. “Grisha Inferni killed my family.”

Genya froze, paused halfway through his hair where she’d rusted the gold to a deep auburn. “Oh,” she murmured. “My condolences.”

“It was a long time ago.”

Silence descended upon the three of them like a vulture - swift and strong. Genya completed the transition of color within Matthias’ hair, applying the same hue to his eyebrows. Nina’s eyes were locked on their hands, still tangled in a knot. And Matthias wanted nothing more than to wither away in that moment. It was a memory that renewed a brief flame of hatred - and shame. The Grisha who hurt him did not represent the majority of the group. The Grisha around him in that very moment would never drag him into a pit of writhing agony. Nina had saved his life, once sacrificed her own just to ensure the safety of the whole crew. Proof that his hatred was misplaced, misguided, nonsensical.

Genya restored the antimony in her kit, her brows knitted together. She surveyed Matthias one last time, drumming her fingers on the wooden planks. Then, she asked, “How do you plan on taking care of my Nina?”

Nina snorted. “I don’t need taken care of. I’m not somebody’s pet.”

Matthias nodded, thankful for the change of subject. “I’m still keeping my oath.”

Genya beamed. “I’ll get out of your hair, then. But don’t think this is the end to my questions. I want to see just what exactly I’m dealing with here.” She stood, kit in hand, and left.

Once she was out of sight, Matthias turned to Nina and gestured to his disguise. “How is it?”

“You look Kaelish.”

Matthias’ lips quirked into a smirk. “Funny. That was your own disguise when we first met.”

“Hm.” Nina rested her head on Matthias’ shoulder, and he felt safe again. “I almost forgot.”