#grishawinter24

[redwineflowers]

Here's my gift for @fairytalesofforever for the @grishawintergifts exchange !!

Sorry for the delay !! I hope you enjoy <3

[fairytalesofforever]

kept my warmth

for @grishawintergifts @jyovi-04 | kaz/inej | background jesper/wylan

Generally, it does not snow in Ketterdam. 

The city is too damp and not nearly idyllic enough for that; they get sleet, and hail, and ice that makes the streets slick and perilous, but not snow. The first winter that Inej is back on the Wraith, however, it snows not once but twice. 

The first snow is a passing nothing—the Crow Club is quiet, construction on the Six is slowed, a stubborn ache nests itself around Kaz’s knee, and the streets are covered in puddles and slush by noon. The second falls when she’s on shore at Jesper and Wylan’s. 

He almost doesn’t go. It’s a veritable blizzard and snow has piled up around the doors of the Slat and the clubs, and besides, he only tolerates the damp with his collar turned up and his scowl particularly deep. However. It’s the damp or Jesper’s sad, pleading expression, like the farm’s collie when Jordie once stepped on her tail. It’s the damp or Wylan’s resignation, ducking his head to his work, his pen scratching in the silence. It’s the damp or Inej sitting alone by a fire. 

She got back yesterday. He hasn’t seen her yet. 

So he goes. 

He walks past the shoveled front steps of the manor, around the uncleared side path that leads to the kitchen door. This is the one lock they haven’t changed on his advice, which Kaz takes as an invitation to let himself in. The ache is less nested now and more burrowed, and he shifts his weight as he coaxes the lock open, then slips inside. 

There are too many parlors in this damn house, but he makes an educated guess and finds them in the one at the base of the stairs. Jesper is in a high-backed chair with some sort of orange-bronze foliage pattern upholstered on it, the only one facing the doorway, and he whoops when he sees Kaz. “Good thing we didn’t get the whiskey out yet at eleven bells. Is that the cherry wine from the Crow Club?”

The bottle that was hanging quite obviously from Kaz’s hand vanishes as soon as the other two turn to look. “I don’t bring gifts, Jesper.”

“Right. Just your sparkling personality.” Jesper hops up from his chair and lopes over to poke at the fire, throwing up a shower of sparks. 

“Kleincanal is frozen over,” Wylan mentions. 

Jesper perks up at this, for some reason, and worse yet he’s looking at Kaz. “Decided to be snowed in with us, then?”

“Needed explosives,” Kaz says shortly, leaning on his cane and chancing a look at Inej. It’s been two months and then some since he last saw her. She must’ve visited Ravka because her nose is pierced now. A red line of firelight reflects off the thin, gilded ring. More of the light ribbons through her braid, uncoiled over one shoulder, and underpaints her gleaming lashes. They raise slowly as she looks at him, and he can see her taking him apart with her eyes just as he’s doing. Cataloguing the changes. He’s wearing the gloves now, but he’s stopped wearing them when he’s alone in his room. 

“I’m afraid they’ll take me most of the day to make,” Wylan says, twisting in his chair to look back at Kaz over his shoulder. Technically, he’s in a high-collared suit of mercher black, but the top buttons are undone and his ascot is draped over the arm of his chair. “So you’ll have to stay here until after dinner.”

Kaz narrows his eyes. “I never told you what I wanted, merchling.” 

Wylan rolls his eyes. “No. You never do.”

Tired of standing in the doorway, Kaz crosses the room. The only available piece of furniture is the ornate sofa Inej is sitting on. He wishes people would stop trying to out-scheme him, but sits there anyway. 

“You did once,” she murmurs. 

Kaz glances at her. He tries to keep the looks short. Starving men have tendencies to feast and make themselves sick. “Did what, Wraith?”

“Said what you wanted.” She’s staring into the fire, almost whispering. 

You, Inej, you. And he’s trying, for what shamefully little he has to show for it. He wonders if he should take the gloves off now, chance it, shove his hands in his pockets so no one else sees. But Jesper is still standing up by the fire, laughing with his head thrown back the way Jordie used to do. Their da called him a little rooster. 

It’s always harder with Jesper. 

So when one of the maids brings out coffee, he takes the cup in his gloved hands. He drops in several sugar cubes, disguised by sleight of hand. Inej gives him an amused glance that makes him think she could tell. Wylan finds the bottle of cherry wine that has mysteriously found its way onto the drinks cart, despite the fact that Kaz hasn’t risen from his seat. Jesper laughs again and tips his head back. Little rooster. 

Outside, the snow continues to fall. 

The follow the coffee with water and then wine, served in glasses that are each worth enough to make Kaz consider pocketing one at the end of the night. Jesper and Wylan’s joint inability to keep their hands off of each other rears its head shortly after the wine is uncorked, and they give an excuse to vanish upstairs, leaving Kaz and Inej alone in the parlor as an early dark falls. 

“Three ships burned,” she says after several breaths of silence. “It was a long chase.”

“That’s the way,” Kaz replies. The snowdrifts have piled up to the lip of the windowsill and it’s still coming down outside. The Slat may be dry, but it doesn’t keep out the chill like a roaring fire does. 

“I left one of the captains on a sandbar.” Inej continues staring into the fire. Its reflections turn her eyes molten and make her skin glow red around the edges. “He begged. They all do.”

“Should’ve done their begging sooner.”

“And you, Kaz?” Now she’s looking at him. There’s space for a person to sit between them and then some. He should move closer. But this moment feels like it’s made of glass. He won’t shatter it. 

“I don’t beg,” he says. It’s a lie. He would if she asked. But Inej knows he’s a liar and she’s sitting here anyway. She knows and she still came back. 

How many more times?

Maybe he won’t have to keep counting if he fights for this like he’s fought for everything else. Even if he comes out bloodied and bruised, bones shattered, at the end of it all, that’s the way he knows how to win. 

“That isn’t what I meant,” Inej says. 

He knows that too. He doesn’t answer, not really. But he does slip the gloves off. First one, then the other, precise and sharp with his movements—undoing the wrist clasps, pocketing the pair. He drops his bare hand to the seat cushion. It feels like velvet. He can feel it now.

Her eyes track down to it, his fingers splayed out like roots on the green cushion. 

“Renovations on the Emerald Palace,” he says. They’re both looking at his hand now. His pulse is roaring like waves in his ears. Some days Kaz wonders if this sickness won’t die till he does. 

“I haven’t seen it yet,” Inej says softly. He thinks she may have moved closer, silent as always. 

“They tore down the facade. Rollins’ legacy is ash.” This should comfort him. Toppling Pekka Rollins was meant to finally convince the warped and cracked parts of his mind that he wasn’t a helpless child anymore, that he could win even this fight. But all he can see now is his bare hand. Ripped-out roots. 

“What are you naming it?” Inej’s voice is a light from the surface. 

He hasn’t told anyone this yet. There are four people left who would know what it means, and three of them would laugh in his face. He doesn’t want to face that today. “The Silver Six.” 

Inej’s hand slides across to meet his. Their fingers interlock. She has new calluses, places where the skin has split. The roughness helps. 

“So you’re building something new,” she says. Kaz looks up at her, nodding in thought, warm to the touch. Outlined in fireglow. Alive, alive. “And what about watching it burn?”

One day he’ll have more of an answer for her. Today the best they can hope for is to be warm in the heart of a Ketterdam blizzard and to bear one another’s touch without the world spinning. To stay in the present. 

“You’re burning enough for the both of us,” he says.

At that she gives a soft laugh, or it might be the fire crackling. The heat and light are all the same. This is dangerous. Comfort is dangerous. The swelling feeling in his chest is dangerous. 

He wants to say it can’t last. But maybe he can make it last. Maybe that’s what it means to no longer be helpless. 

Her thumb brushes up and down over the top of his, the fine lines of the first knuckle. “Snow means trouble on the sea,” she says. 

“It means trouble in Ketterdam, too.” Kaz’s voice comes out particularly rough. 

“No.” Her thumb is still moving, gentle, alive, alive, alive. “I don’t mind it here.” 

[grishawintergifts]

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[loneswaggingranger]

no business drowning on my knees

My gift for @fivemourners-onefuneral for the Grishaverse gift exchange, @grishawintergifts. This is an alternate version of season 2 episode 1 of the TV show where instead of being apprehended when they reach the Crow Club, Kaz, Jesper and Inej get cornered the second they disembark from the ship in Ketterdam. Features Kaz's hidden panic, Inej's queen energy, Jesper's tomfoolery and a sprinkling of Sturmhond. Hope you like it!

The stadwatch has their eyes on them. Their guns, pointed at them from every direction. Kaz slowly raises one of his hands in surrender. Beside him, Jesper and Inej do the same

They’re trapped along the coastline of the Fifth Harbour. There aren’t many ships around to save them at this time of night – the Edam would be the last passing ship by this harbour until daybreak. Kaz’s gloved fingers flex against the head of his crow cane. There’s only two ways out of this – one, they let the stadwatch catch them now, and figure out a plan of escape after; or two, they –

“Oi, Fahey, don’t–”

– jump into the sea, and swim to the next ship. Kaz closes his eyes, jaw ticking as he hears the splash of water behind him. Jesper’s gone, impulsive, reckless and downright idiotic man that he is. 

The stadwatch burst into a flurry of movement and sound. Kaz’s wraith, ever the opportunist, takes advantage of this and sinks into the shadows. More movement. More sound. Rough hands reach for Kaz’s neck. Kaz ducks one second before skin comes into contact with him, heart thundering in his ribcage, ears ringing. 

Inej is hidden. Jesper is underwater. Hands are reaching for him. They passed by the Volkvolny earlier, lurking along the shorelines of the Fourth Harbour. There’s only one logical recourse.

Kaz throws away his cane and sinks into the sea below. 

–

Water explodes against his face, burning in his nostrils, accosting his vision in sharp cold waves. Kaz holds his breath, scanning the sea for any sign of Jesper. His hat would have fallen during the fall, but the movements of his large coat should be visible enough, even under waning moonlight. Kaz should be able to –

A hand swipes down from above, brushing against Kaz’s arm. A field of bodies. The stench of corpses. Kaz wrenches himself away, kicking at the unknown perpetrator, pulling himself forward with the current. The relentless cold sea. The taste of rotting flesh. He needs to leave. He will have to look for his sharpshooter after he finds land. 

The face of his dead brother, in a sea of unknown dead faces. Floating along the waves, coasting by on cold bodies, sticky, grimy, some with their eyes open but unseeing. The heat of the dead. Tears stinging little Rietveld’s eyes –

Kaz fights to keep his lungs steady. He cannot panic. It’s too early to surface for air. 

He’s all alone, he can’t breathe, he’s crying, he’s all alone, he can’t breathe–

Another hand comes down for him, Kaz veers away from it – it misses him by a hair. His heart clenches in his chest. His leg aches. He needs to get to that ship, fast. 

–

Jesper is hauled aboard the Volkvolny by a pair of strong hands. He presses his hand against the floorboard, coughing up a storm, water spilling from his lungs. He raises his head, blearily and sees Inej crouched beside him. She doesn’t have a speck of moisture on her skin. Of course. 

Inej rests her hands on Jesper’s shoulder. They’re bound in rope. Jesper stares at it but calms enough to ask, “Did I beat Kaz to the ship?” 

Inej gives him a look. “We’re still looking for him.” She points her chin towards the person who looks to be the captain of this ship, what with the flashy teal coat and gaudy gold buttons. “He has questions for all of us.”

“That makes me sound vaguely ominous,” The captain remarks. “Though, I guess that isn’t too much of a stretch, considering the circumstances.” He extends a hand towards Jesper, the other holding the same fashion of rope that binds Inej. 

Jesper eyes it warily, but lets himself be pulled up at a warning glance from Inej. They’re playing the weakling until Kaz got on this ship. Got it. 

“Sorry about this. Can’t be too careful, you know?” The captain says, though he doesn’t sound too sorry as he casually loops the rope around Jesper’s wrist. “Do you know who I am, by the way?” 

Jesper’s heard of him. Most of the stories he's heard border close to myth and legend, but Jesper’s heard of him. “Sturmhond, right? The pirate.”

Inej slips to her feet beside Jesper, ever graceful, ever watchful. Sturmhond lets Jesper go to fall in step in front of her. There are two others aboard the ship, a stocky frame and a lithe one, stationed at the edge of the ship, probably to get their hands on Kaz the second they smell a whiff of his presence in the seas. 

Sturmhond clicks his tongue. “Privateer. There’s a distinct difference.” 

Before Jesper can tell the prick where to shove his distinct difference, one of the crew along the edge – the lithe one, who has two axes strapped to her body – yells, “We found him, boss!”

Both Jesper and Inej crash over to the edge. 

–

Corpses. Water. Corpses. Water. Hands, coming for him. Skin, skin, skin. 

Kaz likes to think that he let himself get dragged on board. In truth, it was more like he saw the bottom half of the Volkvolny from underwater, and then he saw more hands reaching down for him, and then they grabbed hold of him, and then he went limp.

The hands are still on him even when he touches hardwood. He doesn’t breathe. 

Someone shoves the hands away. “Stop touching him, asshole.” 

“Kaz, can you hear me?” Another voice, soft and low enough that Kaz turns his head towards it, blind and frozen though he is. “You’re on the Volkvolny. You’re okay. Your Wraith is here.” 

Wraith. Kaz’s wraith. Inej. Kaz’s head clears. The soft crease in his Wraith’s otherwise stoic expression, her eyes, dark and gentle in a way that both settles and invigorates Kaz’s devil in equal measure. Her wrists are bound. Kaz’s eyes narrow. 

He swivels his head to regard the figures standing over him and his Crows. Jesper points to one of them – the one with leather breeches and a too-teal coat – and stage-whispers, “That’s the privateer who's totally not a pirate. He calls himself Sturmhond.”

Sturmhond gives him a rakish, dangerous smile and hands him a length of rope. Drenched and dishevelled though he is, Kaz looks Sturmhond dead in the eye, takes the rope and tosses it overboard. 

Sturmhond’s crew let out twin squawks of indignation but Sturmhond waves them down. Kaz ignores them and jerks his chin at Sturmhond alone. There’s only one question to ask now. 

“What business?” 

[fivemourners-onefuneral]

Here's my gift for the Grishaverse gift exchange. Sorry it took so long to get this out! This takes place sometime after Matthias saves Nina from falling through the ice in Fjerda. @almosttinycreation hope you enjoy this! @grishawintergifts

Nina looked around at where she and Matthias were. It all seemed to be snow, snow, and more snow. Every now and then she'd see a rock or a few trees, but literally nothing else! They had been walking for ages, yet it seemed like they were barely making any progress.

She turned to look at Matthias, "Well, it certainly seems like we're going in the right direction."

He shook his head solemnly, "We aren't lost. This is just what Fjerda looks like this time of year."

Nina rolled her eyes. As much as neither of them wanted to believe it, the possibility of them never finding a town or village was very much real. They were both tired and shaking from the cold, but they couldn't stop moving. Not now. Not until they found some place safe.

Matthias was quiet for a moment. He sighed, "…Ask me a question, Drüske." He knew that they both needed the distraction. Plus, it wouldn't be bad if they learned more about each other.

Nina hummed. There was a lot she could've asked about, but she was curious about something. "Do you have an isenulf of your own back in Djerholm?" She asked. Isenulf were special wolves bred to fight side by side with Drüskelle. She'd be surprised if he said no.

He smiled fondly. "Yes. His name is Trassel," Matthias said proudly, "He's my best friend."

Nina laughed quietly and tilted her head. "Trassel?" She repeated, "Doesn't that mean 'troublemaker'?"

Matthias laughed with her, "It's true! Training him wasn't hard, but he likes not listening to anyone when we aren't on duty. He steals food off of counter tops every chance he gets."

He looked at Nina. "What about you? Did you ever have any…" He trailed off, trying to find the right word. Isenulf weren't pets- far from it- but Fjerda was the only country that had soldiers fighting alongside animals.

Luckily, Nina caught on before he had to make up a word on the spot, "Nope. The Little Palace doesn't allow animals inside."

Matthias stared at her. If he had learned one thing about Nina, it was that rules rarely stop her. "But?" He prompted.

Nina glanced around and leaned in conspiratorially. "There was a cat who'd wander into the gardens," She whispered to him, "It would catch some of the birds. It wasn't technically a pet, but it's the closest thing to one I can think of. It was cute and its fur pattern made it look like it wore a little suit."

"Sometimes me and the other people studying at the Palace would give it treats," she continued. "I didn't see it when I left Little Palace, so I guess it either got chased out or someone adopted it."

Matthias smiled, "Did you ever name it?"

Nina shook her head, "Nope. Everyone there just called it 'the cat'."

Matthias hummed and looked down at his feet. Hearing her story made him feel a bit conflicted. He'd always been taught that Grisha were something other than human. That they were monsters, dangerous blights on the natural world. But what Nina told him was so… Mundane. There were Grisha living just like the people he grew up with. It was a bit hard for him to consider, but maybe there were some Grisha that were different, like Nina.

Nina's words interrupted his thoughts, "Do you have any stories? About Trassel, I mean."

Matthias looked over at her, "Of course I do. I've had him for… Maybe seven years now."

She watched him intently, "Go on, then. Tell me one."

He smiled a little. He liked telling stories about Trassel, but maybe they should find shelter first. It got dark quick this time of year.

Matthias looked up to the sky and squinted. It didn't look too dark yet, but he didn't want to take any chances.

"We'll have to find a hut or something first," he said.

Nina shrugged with a smile, "I'll get a good story out of you eventually, drüskelle."

It didn't take them too long. There were a lot of small, abandoned huts scattered around that had once been used by fishermen or hunters as temporary shelter. It worked perfectly for them.

It didn't look too run-down on the inside. Sure, the wood had been damaged by all the snow, and the weapons that they found were so rusted that they were useless, but it would work. It kept the snow out and was warm enough.

Nina didn't waste time. As soon as they had gotten settled, she looked at Matthias and asked about Trassel again, "So. What was the incredible story you were just about to tell me?"

Matthias laughed quietly, leaning back against a wall, "Well what do you want to hear? There's a lot of stories. There's the time where he fought me for food, the time where he managed to climb on top of a counter to get to the lunch I had made- which, by the way, I was already going to share with him."

He thought for a little while longer, "…Oh! There's the time he stole food off of Commander Brum's plate!"

Nina's eyes widened. "Commander Brum?" She repeated, "As in the Jarl Brum?"

Matthias winced. He forgot about that. About how Brum was to the Grisha as the Triumvirate was to Fjerdans. His commander was someone that people like Nina learned to fear.

He nodded, "Yeah. It wasn't as bad as it sounds."

Nina scoffed, "Okay, fine. Tell me the story, then."

Matthias shifted around a bit, "In Fjerda, there's a celebration called Vinetkälla. It's a festival that celebrates Sankt Egmond. He was blessed by Djel and was the one who created the Ice Court."

"There's an even bigger celebration that goes along with this- Jerjanik. It means Heartwood," Matthias continued, "It's this big event where the goal is basically for people to get married."

Matthias grinned, "About two years ago, Commander Brum invited me and a few of the other drüskelle to watch the first big event of Heartwood- Maidenswalk. We got to go inside the grand palace and see the ballroom. It was beautiful. You'd like it."

"After we watched the Maidenswalk, Brum hosted this huge dinner in the Ice Court. Most of the drüskelle were there. After a while, some of the younger recruits snuck off to the kennels. I don't know what they were trying to do, but they managed to get most of the Isenulf out of the kennels and herded them to where we were eating."

"As you'd expect, it got…" Matthias trailed off.

"Chaotic?" Nina suggested with a smile on her face. She was sitting down at a table with rickety seats. She looked invested.

He laughed and shook his head, "Believe me, it was much worse than that."

"So how was Trassel involved in this little raid?" She asked.

"Well, while Brum was barking out orders to the other drüskelle, the wolves decided that they wanted to be a part of the feast. While most of the Isenulf ate from their trainers' plates, Trassel decided to be bold."

"He climbed on top of Commander Brum and fought him for the ham."

He heard Nina start laughing and couldn't help but join in, "I'm serious! Trassel won, but he got us both in trouble. Well, everyone was all in trouble, but Trassel was the one who stole from his plate, so-"

Nina shook her head, still laughing, "Your isenulf beat Jarl Brum in battle! Over ham of all things!"

Matthias tried to hide his smile, "Yeah, he did."

Nina looked up at him, "Please tell me you have more stories like that."

Matthias nodded. "Oh, don't worry. I have a lot."

They ended up spending a better portion of the night just talking. Nina told Matthias more about her travels and Matthias told her more about Trassel. It was nice.

[almosttinycreation]

Happy holidays everyone! Here is the playlist I made for @grishawintergifts’ winter gift exchange!

I hope you like it @twistedlimefire!

[grishawintergifts]

★ info post ★

welcome to the grishaverse winter gift exchange blog - thanks for being here!

current phase: this event is over!

this gift exchange will operate like a secret-santa, where each gifter will be anonymously assigned a matching giftee based on their responses to a google form, and towards the end of december everyone's gifts will be posted!

art, writing and playlists are the current gift options, but you can suggest others in the interest check form

more information will be updated as we go, but for now check out some of the info below ↓↓ and spread the word!

and don't hesitate to send an ask if you have any questions xx

important information under cut:

⋆ schedule ⋆

October 28th - Interest check opens November 4th - Interest check closes November 5th - Sign-ups open (hopefully!) November 15th - Signs-ups close November 17th - All gifts are assigned and the creation period begins December 5th - Check-in December 24th-27th - Gifts are posted!!

⋆ rules ⋆

DMs must be open so I can contact you about your gift!

Follow the schedule ;)

When posting your gift, @ the recipient and @/grishawintergifts, and tag #grishawinter24

Fics must be posted to Tumblr and may be posted to AO3

No NSFW

Gift guidelines: Writing (1K+ words), Art (Finished piece), Playlist (1hr+)

[grishawintergifts]

⋆ interest check ⋆

(version 2 - in-app)

for more information on this event, check out the pinned post on this blog

✉️🔄✉️

i would be interested in participating!

i would need more information (please send an ask!)

Voting ended onNov 3, 2024

*this interest check will close on the 3rd of November!!