I've had this idea on the backburner for way too long, so today I decided I was going to write it down. The title was taken from the song This Is War by Thirty Seconds to Mars.
Disclaimer: I don't own Six of Crows.
"Hey." The word was as soft as a summer breeze, and in the wake of her grief the comfort its gentleness offered was too great for Nina too ignore.
The dawn mist still rising from the docks crystallised in droplets on the fabric of Inej's jacket as she sat down next to her. This made it easier, focusing on small, inconsequential things; it stopped her from thinking about other, important things, it stop her from thinking about-
A hand, warm and dry, settled on top of hers, resting on the parapet. Nina knew it was reckless for someone without any particular balancing ability to sit on the very edge of a stone building to look out over Ketterdam's docks, but she did it anyway. Inej didn't comment - on the contrary, she slung her legs over the side to sit next to her.
It was comforting. Inej was lithe, balanced, as she sat, like the crow on the tattoo Kaz had never forced her to get. Nina couldn't help but wonder if she ever would get it now, or if that forearm of hers would remain her own forever. If she was going out to hunt the vilest of people, it might be best not to declare exactly who her benefactors - friends - were.
Nevertheless, it was comforting having her perching there. She felt a little less alone.
"Hey," she replied. Inej's thumb started rubbing circles on the back of her hand, and Nina's entire attention seized onto the motion. It was another small, inconsequential thing - repetitive, soothing, soft. It grounded her.
She braced herself for the questions all the same. Wylan and Jesper had already asked her a myriad of them. How are you doing? How are you holding up? I'm sorry. Would you like to stay here? We have several free rooms; Inej is staying here at the moment, as she always does when she visits. Would you like to have dinner, just the four of us? Oh, and Kaz, if we can drag him up from the Slat.
Nina hadn't even known Inej was in Ketterdam.
She herself had returned from Fjerda in the dead of night. She hadn't sent any forewarning of her return - hadn't known she would be returning herself - and she didn't want them all to come out to meet her. She didn't have the energy to interact with them, to share a delicious dinner - not when failure still burned in the back of her throat.
Because she had failed. She'd failed Matthias, failed Ravka, failed herself.
A Fjerda worth saving, Matthias had wanted. Had begged for. I know there is a Fjerda worth saving. She'd gone to save it.
She'd found nothing.
It had pushed her acting abilities to the very edge, having to hide her flinches every time she heard mention of those dirty witches, or the honourable drüskelle. She'd been able to deal with it for less than a month before she cracked, flinched in front of someone just a touch too zealous to let it go. He'd reported it to the local drüskelle: There may be a Ravkan spy in our midst.
Then Jarl Brum was brought down on her, and she was chased out. Hunted like the animal they thought she was.
She would never be safe in Fjerda.
There was no way she could fulfil Matthias's dying wish. Not when she was reported and marked for heresy within three weeks.
Nina had thought she'd begun to get over the loss, learned to honour him in life rather than regret him in death. But her failure had exacerbated her grief - especially once she was back in Ketterdam - and now it all hurt anew.
Wylan and Jesper had tried to help.
Wylan and Jesper hadn't helped.
Now she took in a sigh in preparation for the same incessant questions to come from Inej.
The thumb kept massaging her hand. Inej kept her silence.
Several more minutes passed before Nina let out a shuddering sob and rested her head on the smaller woman's shoulder. It was an awkward position, but comforting all the same.
Matthias - she choked on her tears - had said Inej's best quality was her bravery. Her courage. She would dare to do anything that helped her friends.
Nina disagreed.
Inej's best quality was her wisdom.
The ability to understand even Kaz's heart, the ability to convince a scared and lonely Grisha new to Ketterdam to join the Dregs, the ability to win the respect of a grumpy Fjerdan convict before she'd even spoken to him directly.
The ability to stay quiet on a quiet day, with a quiet mind, next to someone who craved the quiet more than anything else.
And her voice was quieter than the wind as she said, "I'm heading out on our next voyage the day after tomorrow, but I'm having dinner at Wylan and Jesper's tonight. I hope you'll be there?"
Nina squeezed her hand - her warm, solid hand, that she felt sure would catch her were she to fall. "Yes." Suddenly, she couldn't bear the silence and asked, "You're staying in Ketterdam for so long?"
"A lot of the members of my crew are from Ketterdam. They want to visit their families." Her voice softened further as she squeezed Nina's hand back. "And I was hoping to convince you to come out on the next voyage with me."
There is no expectation here, no trap. Just a gentle request, and Nina wanted what it was offering more than anything. Companionship. Emotional support. Purpose.
She was tired of being alone.
"Yes," she repeated, and buried her face in Inej's arm. "Do you really think we have a chance against the slavers?"
Inej's arm wrapped itself round her shoulders. "I do," she said. "Because we're the next generation. We're the new world." Nina couldn't see her, could see only the amber light of dawn filtering through her eyelashes, but she could feel Inej smiling. "And we are brave."
She squeezed Nina tighter.
"From the last-"
Matthias.
"-to the first."
Nina unburied her face and looked at Inej. Her vision was blurry with tears, light fracturing into rainbows on her lashes, but she knew Inej's face like her own. And when she looked out over the docks, Fifth Harbour, and the rest of the city, she knew that too.
"A brave new world," she whispered.
It looked bright.