epilogue. Shu-Han

 Kaz Brekker couldn't peel his eyes away.

 Aria Antonov stood at the half-wall of the ship, hands pressed against the sleek wood of The Bastard. Her green frock coat blew with the wind, her eyes fixated on the darkened sea, the warm illumination of the lanterns onboard the only thing keeping her hidden from the inky black shadows. He watched from above, hands propped on his cane—he couldn't look away from her. Not when she was like that, with sunkissed skin from endless days at sea, sea water-swept coal colored hair, standing as the captain of her own vessel. It was then Kaz Brekker realized he would never be able to look away, and that wasn't even an option—because Aria Antonov had seemed to be his person. Someone who had begun to understand him so well, someone who knew the travel of his skin even without touching it, and that knew his mind like it had become her own. Aria Antonov was his person, and he was hers.

Kaz had begun to grow accustomed of living aboard of boat with Aria Antonov. He knew her routine, it had become his. In the later hours of the night, he found himself waiting for the sound of padding feet towards his quarters. For her soft knock, for her to sit feet away from him on his bed, to feel the graze of her fingertips against her own. For her to trace the veins in his arm with a feather-light touch. He waited, and some nights he wouldn't sleep if she wouldn't come around. Their days traveling had begun to be his favorite, for seemingly endless endeavors in foreign countries, growing accustomed to different cultures—he'd chosen Shu-Han as his favorite. With their floral teas, warm noodle and cabbage dishes Aria simply couldn't get enough of, and the simple fact that the awe in Aria Antonov's eyes had become his favorite sight.

In Shu-Han, Kaz had found a small shop where she noticed a traditional necklace some women wore—she mentioned she remembered her mother having one similar—he couldn't help himself, the currency was in the seller's hands before Kaz could even really think about it. He remembers how he didn't have to suck in some air before his hands graze the skin of Aria's neck as he put it on her. Kaz closed his eyes at the thought, the smell of sea and algae filling his nose, the wind blowing his short cropped hair. Some part of him missed Ketterdam, but part of him never wanted to return. To live a quiet, serene live with the girl standing somewhere on the ship with him wouldn't be so bad. No, it would be perfect. Some part of him wanted to forget the idea of growing a Ketterdam empire just to burn it down, instead finding some small little farm, perhaps somewhere in Lij, where two little boys grew up. Or somewhere closer to the ocean, for Aria.

Kaz sometimes dreamed of that Lij farmhouse. The crops that grew, the grass and weeds that were long enough to whip at his windowpanes, the bunnies he used to chase through the fields. Kaz Brekker wishes it were still that simple. There was a criminal still buried in Kaz, and he knew that life would never work for him, that some part of him would always crave that chaos and danger the Barrel provided him, but the thought was nice. To live on that small farm, with a small little fortune, with that girl and maybe those bunnies, too.

Kaz wondered what Aria dreamed of. Maybe of Ravka, of a life she once had. The brother she'd found and rekindled her relationship with. Or maybe of him. Maybe that dangerous boy from Kerch, the one with blood on his hands and so many demons in his heart. Kaz wondered and he wondered. So he asked. Everything, she had said. Everything. Everything. Everything. What was everything? Kaz had wondered. To him, he didn't know. Her, the Barrel, his crows, kruge. All his life he had his plan set out, to die buried under the weight of his own gold. But now, with that damned girl standing at the edge of the boat, her hair and face sprayed with the sea, he was lost. Confused. He resented himself for letting it happen but it was a blissful sort of lost.

Kaz reopened his eyes, finding that Aria was no longer standing there. He wouldn't go looking for her, he hoped she'd find her way to his room that night. If not, the sun would rise regardless and Kaz wouldn't have slept. Or maybe, just maybe, he could go to her. Kaz wanted to disregard the thought, but later that night he did just that.

Limping through the small hall through the quarters of sailors and crewman, Kaz knocked softly at her door. It opened, and she welcomed him in without a thought. They took their respective spots, neither of them speaking a word. Fingertips met so gently, skin barely meeting. His armor was shedding, he felt lost. But his compass pointed to her. He found her eyes as their hands met entirely. Kaz? She had said, barely above a whisper.

Yes? He rasped.

I would burn the world for you. She said.

Kaz nodded, fingers intertwining. He could feel his stomach turning, the feeling of distant waves swallowing his feet. I would do it all for you, Aria Antonov. He squeezed her hand not once, but three times. A silent message. All of it. And she believed him.

emma / 2023
edited: 5/29/23
THATS IT!