Only Hymns Upon Your Lips (FTH Fic)

[sinnabird]

Rating: T
Warning: Recovering from trauma
Fandom: Six of Crows
Ship: Kaz/Inej
Summary: Falling in love was easy. Being lovers takes a lot more work.
But after taking on the highest powers in Ketterdam, they're willing to try.
My gift for emjen_enla as part of the Fandom Trumps Hate exchange.
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“Can I try something?” Kaz asks, his voice soft.
He and Inej are leaning against the railing of her ship, watching the sun set and watching each other out of the corners of their eyes. It has been six months since they last saw each other, and both are trying to catalogue the changes with sly sideways glances.

“I don’t mind,” she says. “What is it?”

“Just hold out your hand,” he requests.

Inej does as she’s asked. He takes her hand in his own – ungloved again – and rubs his thumb gently along her palm. Then, with aching softness, he flips her hand and caresses her knuckles.

Inej isn’t watching their joined hands. She’s watching Kaz’s face. He looks scared. Not so that anyone else would notice. But Inej has known Kaz for many years and seen him at his most vulnerable. Whatever he’s trying to do, it terrifies him.

He lifts her hand towards his face, and her breath catches in her throat. She never expected…

The brush of his lips against her knuckles is so soft that she almost doesn’t feel it. If she hadn’t been watching so closely, she might have missed it entirely. But his lips touch her hand, and he looks determined and scared and relieved all at once.

Tears well up in her eyes, and she doesn’t know why.

“I’m sorry,” Kaz says quickly. “Was that… did I do something wrong?”

Inej thinks she might be the only person in the world who knows this side of Kaz. Who knows that the Bastard of the Barrel is capable of being an awkward teenager.

“That’s not it,” she tells him, wiping away the tears.

“Then what is it?”

She isn’t sure what this feeling is, welling up in her chest. But she knows it isn’t what Kaz fears. He hasn’t brought up some horrid reminder of her past.

The only reason she thinks of her past is to contrast this moment with it. For the first time in her life, with Kaz, she’s found herself wanting to… be close to someone. She’s been wanting to touch him for so long now. And not only that. She’s been wanting him to touch her. She’s been wanting him to want to touch her.

And perhaps this isn’t quite that. But the fact that he knows that’s what she wants, and the fact that he cares enough to try to give it to her…

No one has ever bothered to take what she wants into account. Not like this.

“I’m happy,” she says. “I’ve missed you. I’ve missed this.”

“You could always come back,” he offers.

Then, he shakes his head. “No, forget I said that. I mean, you know I’d have you back in a heartbeat, but I knew from the moment I saw you this morning. The sea-faring life is treating you well.”

She smiles. He’s right. Her new life fits her like the slippers she used to wear as the Wraith.

“Why don’t you come to sea with me?” she suggests.

It’s almost a joke, but there’s a certain look of yearning in his eyes that makes her reevaluate. He wants to. He can’t, of course. He spent too long fighting for what he has here. But if she really asked, she thinks he would say yes.

He would give up everything he’s fought for. For her.

That scares her a little. But a part of her is viciously glad to know it.

--

It’s an even chance whether or not Kaz will come to say goodbye when Inej leaves Ketterdam. He tries to tell himself it’s simply chance that he so often misses the tide. But he’s not a fool, and it seems he’s not as good at lying to himself as he is at lying to everyone around him.

The fact of the matter is that he hates to watch her leave. The Bastard of the Barrel, and he’s defeated by the simple fear of watching the girl he loves sail away.

It’s pathetic.

But this time, she asked him to come. She asked him to see her off. And he promised that he would. So here he is, watching her ship prepare to sail and feeling the sadly familiar pang of separation.

“You came.”

She sounds surprised, and he regrets that.

“I said I would.”

“Thank you,” she says, softly. “I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.”

“I never want to say goodbye to you,” Kaz admits.

She smiles.

“Is that why you never come? You’ll see me again.”

“I know.” When she says it, he can believe it.

She holds out a hand. Kaz looks at it, and reaches out his own bare hand. And then he stops.

She also stops, hiding her disappointment well.

Slowly, he reaches forward and pulls her into a hug. To his great relief, she makes no move as he does so, remaining still but pliant until he settles into things.

“May I?” she murmurs quietly.

He nods, shivering a little at the movement of her neck against his cheek.

She wraps her arms around him, careful but firm. Even through his thick coat, her touches feel like fire. Not burning, though. The warm fire of a hearth.

“I’ll miss you,” she murmurs.

“Just come back,” he says, and he thinks it might be a prayer.

If there’s anyone in this universe worthy of worship, it’s the beautiful brilliant woman in his arms.

--

Inej often finds herself falling back into old habits when she’s back in Ketterdam. One such habit is her old seat on Kaz’s windowsill. Even when he’s not in his office – the whole room is empty, in fact, except for that heavy old desk – there’s something comforting about it.

The door opens and she prepares to flee from some stranger. But she quickly recognizes the black coat sweeping in the door.

“Kaz.”

She smiles and settles back down in her former position. He crosses the room and drops his gloves on the desk.

“They told me your ship had come in,” he says. “I thought I might find you here.” He pauses. “Can’t imagine why. This place has always been a dump.”

She laughs. “I bet you have a new office now, Mr. High and Mighty Barrel Boss. One you can invite the all the rich merchers to.”

“I do, in fact,” he tells her, and his little smile tells her that he’s proud of it.

She smiles back at him.

He leans against the opposite side of the window and she can’t help but notice how he looks a bit more disheveled than he used to. Not in the way most people might notice. But his tie isn’t tight enough to choke him, and his hair has grown out a bit more than he might normally allow. He’s busy. That’s not a surprise. But if he’s willing to go out in public looking anything less than immaculate, he must also be beginning to trust in his own power.

That’s good, she thinks. She’s been hearing rumors of changes in Ketterdam’s underworld, and she’s been liking them. She always thought Kaz could do anything if he set his mind to it. She’s pleased to discover that it seems to be true.

He reaches out a hand, and she meets it with her own. As always, there’s a moment before they touch where everything seems to hang in the balance. But then his skin is against hers and it feels right. She squeezes it, just a bit, and he squeezes back.

“It’s good to see you,” she tells him. “I’ve heard things.”

“So have I.”

He nods towards the harbor, and she smiles.

“You know, whenever I think of you, it’s always here that I think of first,” he admits.

His hand is soft against hers.

“Why?” she asks, as if she doesn’t know the answer.

As if she doesn’t always imagine him sitting at this rotting old desk.

He doesn’t answer, but he moves in a bit closer, and she follows his lead, and then they’re standing together in front of the window, less than a foot apart.

“I want…” she begins, and hesitates. “Can I kiss you?”

His eyes go a little wide, but he buries that almost before she can see it.

“Yes,” he says softly.

“You’re sure?”

“No. But we might as well try.”

She frowns. “I mean it, Kaz. If you’re not ready, I can wait.”

“No, let’s give it a try,” Kaz says with false bravado.

He holds her hand a little tighter, and she knows he won’t back down on this. She shouldn’t have asked. But if he insists. And maybe, just maybe, it will work. She’s seen him will more impossible things into existence.

She leans in to press a kiss to his lips. For a moment, it’s perfect. She’s been wanting this for so long.

But then Kaz flinches away like he’s been burned, pulling his hand away from hers. She wishes she wasn’t surprised. Even as he’s pulling away, he’s trying to be gentle with her. She wishes he wouldn’t She’s taken plenty of violence before. She could handle the physical pain better than she handles the disappointment.

Kaz retreats to the corner and sits curled in on himself. Inej does the same in the window.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out, like the words pain him.

And for once, she hasn’t earned them. Well, mostly. A little of the blame is on him for pushing through with what they both knew was a good idea.

“I told you I can wait,” she says.

“For how long?” he asks.

“What?”

“How long are you willing to wait?” he continues. “Months? Years? Decades? What if it’s forever?”

She hesitates, unsure where this is going.

“Kaz.”

“I mean it, Inej. I don’t know if I’ll ever be comfortable with something like that. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to be… intimate… with you.”

“I never asked for that,” she says quietly.

“I will have you without armor, Kaz Brekker, or I will not have you at all,” he quotes at her, and it would be mildly alarming to hear her own words used against her if she hadn’t seen him do it time and time again.

Not to her though. Never to her.

She gets up from the window and crosses the room towards him, picking up his gloves on the way. She drops them in his lap and sits a few feet away. Close enough to touch if they both reach out, but far enough to give him space.

He scrambles to get the gloves on his hands, and she can see some bit of tension in his shoulders unwind just a bit.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she tells him. “I meant that I wouldn’t be your pet Wraith. That I wouldn’t save myself for you if you didn’t show me the courtesy of letting me see the real you behind the masks you wear.”

“That’s not what you said,” he points out, like a petulant child.

She sighs.

“When I first left The Menagerie,” she explains carefully. “I thought I’d never want another man to so much as lay a finger on me. The very idea made me sick. But somewhere along the way, things got easier. I stopped feeling ill at ease when Jesper put a hand on my shoulder. I no longer gagged when I had to get close enough to a man to kill him. But it took time. I never thought you wouldn’t need time.”

“But-”

She doesn’t let him interrupt her.

“Somewhere along the way, I began to want to touch you. I began to want your hands on me, in a way I’d never wanted from anyone. Not before I was taken, and definitely not after. But if that’s not what you want – if that’s never what you want – I don’t mind. If I can’t kiss you, that doesn’t matter. I’d like to, but I don’t want you to force that upon yourself for my sake. Honestly, the thought of that makes me sick, and you should know that. All I’ve ever really wanted from you is your heart. And now I know I have it.”

He reaches for her face and traces her cheek with his gloved fingers.

“You’ve had it for a long time,” he tells her.

“Well, you did a shit job of showing it,” she replies.

He smiles, and removes the glove, and touches her cheek again with his bare hands.

“I want to give you everything you want,” he says.

“You’ve given me plenty,” she assures him.

He looks down at the floorboards.

“I’ve been getting better with my hands,” he admits. “I don’t usually have to wear the gloves anymore. But anything close to my mouth… I can taste it. And then I’m back in the river before I can remind myself it’s not real.”

There’s silence between them for several long moments.

She takes his other hand, the one still gloved.

“I love you, Kaz Brekker. And all I ask is that you love me in return.”

“I do,” he promises. “I will.”

He pulls her into his arms and she rests her head against his shoulder, careful not to touch skin to skin. He’s warm, and there’s a kind of holiness to this moment.

Sankta Alina, she prays, please let me have this forever.

--

She never expected to see Kaz like this. Here, among the bright colors of her family’s caravan, he should look like an intruder. He’s still dressed in the dour black of the city. But while he might refuse to leave the trappings of Ketterdam behind, his face is glowing like a child as he takes in their surroundings.

She’d invited him to visit home with her partially because she’d been certain he wouldn’t come. But here he is, proving her wrong. She finds in herself a sudden childish desire to show off, and sprints over to where a practice wire has been set up. It’s only a few feet off the ground – he’s seen her perform infinitely more dangerous stunts – but today it isn’t about the danger. Today it’s about the joy of performing.

She hops up onto the wire and bounces a few times to get a feel for it under her feet. And then she’s jumping and tumbling and pulling out tricks she hasn’t used for years, simply because they were more showy than practical. She looks up every few seconds to meet his eyes and finds them always on her.

He’s still smiling, and he claps at all the appropriate times. When she bows with a final flourish and hops off the wire, he looks suitably impressed.

“Do you want to try?” she asks.

He looks pointedly at his cane.

“You can lean on me,” she says. “I wouldn’t ask you if I thought it was impossible.”

“Well, if you insist.”

She helps him up onto the rope, and for several moments they just stand there, gripping each other and Inej keeping them upright only barely.

“This may not have been my brightest idea,” she admits.

“Let’s keep going,” Kaz says in reply. “I want to get all the way across.”

He’s an idiot, and Inej’s heart is so full of love it could burst. Together, they navigate the ten feet of wire in tiny steps, Kaz leaning heavily on her.

After an eternity and no time at all, Inej takes a step backwards and feels the solid knot of the end of the rope.

“We made it,” she tells Kaz.

He grins as she helps him down, only wincing once he thinks she’s not watching. She lets him have his pride but is quick to retrieve his cane for him.

“Well, that was quite a show.”

“Papa!”

She turns, and sure enough he’s standing there like he always used to when she would practice.

“Welcome home, my little girl.”

“Not so little anymore,” she points out.

He smiles, a bit sadly.

“No, not so little at all. And welcome, Kaz Brekker. My daughter didn’t mention she was bringing company.”

Kaz shrugs. “I was a late addition to this trip.”

“We are glad to have you.”

Inej sighs at all this formality and runs to hug her Papa. Kaz follows her close behind, extending a hand when she finally untangles herself from her father’s arms.

“I’m glad to be here, sir.”

Inej is delighted to note that his hands are still bare, and he doesn’t so much as flinch away from the warm handshake her father bestows on him. She touches his other arm with hers and tries to communicate all her love for him through the places where they press together.

“Now, come along. Your mother will be wanting to feed you, no doubt. We’ll have you both fattened up in no time at all.”

Inej’s mouth waters at the thought.

“You’ll like my Mama’s cooking,” she tells Kaz.

“I’m sure I will.”

When they cross the field to the familiar caravan wagon, Mama steps out.

“What’s been keeping my girl from saying hello to her Mama?”

She startles when she sees Kaz, but hides it well.

“And I see you’ve brought your Crow with you. You should have warned us. Well, never you mind.”

She hugs Inej tightly. For a minute, all the hard edges of the world melt away. It’s over far too soon, and Mama is reaching out to hug Kaz before Inej can stop her. Those hard edges come rushing back.

“Mama-”

Kaz has frozen, still as a statue. Inej is relieved to see that Mama hasn’t touched him yet, but it’s a near thing. His eyes are wide like a frightened deer.

“My apologies.” Mama wipes her hands on her apron and smiles at Kaz. “I forget that you come from a land with different customs.”

They all know that it wasn’t a difference in customs, but it gives Kaz an easy out. It shows him that not everyone will take advantage of his weaknesses at the first sign.

He sighs in relief and slips on his gloves, holding out a hand.

“My apologies as well, Mrs. Ghafa. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

She shakes his gloved hand warmly, and Inej lets out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding.

“Mama, Kaz will be staying for dinner.”

“Of course he will. Did you really think I would let your boy go hungry? Now come inside, all of you. Dinner is ready.”

--

Kaz didn’t really think things through when he followed Inej to see her family. He simply took the first ship he could find passage on. The problem is that he didn’t consider the return journey. The Ravkan port nearest where Inej’s family makes their winter camp doesn’t have any ships planning to depart for Ketterdam for the rest of the season. He could take a wagon to the next city, but he’s likely to get the same story there. With winter wind blowing in, all but the most vital trade has slowed to a crawl.

There is, of course, another option, but his pride won’t let him consider it.

“Kaz.”

The world, it seems, has no respect for his pride.

“Inej.”

“You need a ship.”

It’s not a question. She must have talked to the harbormaster.

“It appears I do. I’m afraid I don’t have enough coin on me to justify you changing your route, but you know I’m good for whatever you think is fair.”

She smiles and shakes her head.

“I won’t take your coin, Kaz Brekker. But I’m afraid we’re a bit crowded at the moment. You’ll have to share my cabin.”

Kaz smiles. Inej has always been good at curbing his pride.

“As you wish, Captain.”

So together they set off for the city that ruined them both and built them into the people they are today.

--

The first night, Kaz doesn’t sleep. Inej hadn’t been kidding about the overcrowding on her ship. She’s an excellent captain, so it’s no surprise people want to follow her. But it does mean that even she can’t find him a spare hammock. He doesn’t dare risk sharing hers, so he spends the whole night in her desk chair, being shook back awake every few minutes by the rocking movement of the ship. In the morning, she takes one look at him and orders him to get some rest, telling him to use her hammock while she’s awake. He manages a few hours, surrounded by the smell of her.

“I’m not letting you do that again,” she says, when he sits down in her desk chair that night.

“I can just be nocturnal until we get back to Ketterdam,” he offers.

She frowns.

“How about we switch off? Tonight, I’ll take the chair.”

He knows exactly how uncomfortable that chair is to sleep in.

“I’m not going to force you out of your own bed. You need to be awake enough to captain the ship.”

“Kaz,” she pauses to consider. “My hammock is big enough for two. Wear your gloves to bed. I won’t mind.”

“I’m not sure if it would be enough. I might wake you screaming.”

“Then wake me screaming. And we’ll try something else. But it’s two weeks back to Ketterdam. I won’t have you go two weeks without proper sleep.”

“Fine. We’ll try it.”

He feels like he’s dressing for a funeral as he carefully decides what to wear. His highest collar, the thickest gloves. He trusts himself with her while awake, but asleep? He doesn’t even need the touch of another to wake him screaming at the feeling. This is going to end horribly. But he knows the look on her face. She won’t be satisfied until they try.

And a tiny part of him wants this. Wants to share her bed, like lovers do. He knows he’ll probably wake screaming, but he allows himself to imagine a world where he could awake to her smile, or to see her sleeping comfortably beside him.

She watches as he dresses. Somehow, she always manages to look at him without judgement. It’s one of the many things he loves about her. Properly armored, he crosses the room to her hammock.

She smiles and helps him in. It’s odd, being pressed so closely against her.

“You okay?” she asks softly.

He nods.

“Are you?” He knows she hasn’t let anyone share a bed with her in many years.

“I am.” She smiles softly. “Do you need me to turn away?”

He shakes his head.

“No, that’s… worse. I’d like to see your face.”

She takes his gloved hand and presses it to her ribs, just below her breasts.

“If you hold your hand here, you can feel me breathing.”

He nods, relieved that she understands.

She settles in, pressing her head against his chest, where she doesn’t risk it coming in contact with his uncovered face.

The weight is uncomfortable, and memories batter at the walls of his mind. But… she’s warm. She’s warm, and he can feel her breathing. It’s unexpectedly comforting.

He doesn’t sleep right away. Of course he doesn’t. He stays up and watches as she descends into sleep, her face going soft and her breathing slowing under his hand. But never stopping.

A warm feeling curls up in his chest. The same warmth that lives there when he hears her laughter or sees her smile.

He’s too cynical to think that’s enough, but he lets himself sleep anyway.

He is jolted awake from nightmares multiple times, but never screaming, and each time he lets Inej’s slow breathing lull him back to sleep.

--

Inej awakens first, to her surprise. Sunlight is creeping in behind the curtains, and the Bastard of the Barrel is sleeping peacefully in her hammock. She dares not move, so she simply watches him. He looks younger like this. Less dangerous. His hair is mussed and his face isn’t schooled into the careful sneer he cultivates for the people around him.

She wants so badly to reach out and touch him, but she knows all too well how that would end. So she just holds still and watches, feeling the warm weight of his hand on her stomach through the layers of fabric between them.

The change in her breathing must have woken him, because she has painfully little time to watch him before he jolts into wakefulness. There’s fear in his face that quickly fades away as his eyes meet hers.

“Good morning,” she murmurs, almost afraid that her voice alone will break the spell.

“Good morning, Captain.”

He smiles, and she feels relief wash over her.

“Was that okay?” she asks.

She thinks she would have woken if he’d had nightmares, but she doesn’t want to assume anything.

“It was… better,” he says finally.

“I’m glad.”

He reaches up and pulls off a glove, then presses his palm to her cheek.

“I love you,” he says quietly.

It’s not a surprise. And yet… he’s never said it before. Not in those words. They’ve always told each other through actions and promises. But in the lazy morning light, the words sound just right.

“I love you,” she whispers.

A promise and a secret.

She presses her hand against his, and it’s as intimate as any kiss. They’ve never been a fairy tale couple, but this feels a lot like a happily ever after.