[ her parents' voice nearly makes him jump, more of this impossible world, of this impossible moment, breaking through the only thing he can trust to be real. inej knows this is all wrong, knows what is going to happen, and he entered this void with her, she is real, standing feet from him, leaning over the edge of the small table. it cracks through the tension of his question, saving her from having to answer or from him having to ask again. more ravkan, more sounds he recognizes but does not understand.
his eyes go towards the source of the voice, his fists tense at his sides. a voice in the back of his head tries to abate him - that is her mother - but the urge to fight or flee is still coursing through him, right under his skin. inej responds, kaz's eyes flitting to her back and how she's still got her head tilted down, her eyes closed. but the tone is unmistakeable. familiar. and sure enough the footsteps leave them, and kaz slowly lets himself breathe once more.
when inej switches back to kerch, kaz's eyes fall back on the back of her head. he doesn't need to see her face to feel the air shift, to know she feels vulnerable, upset, panicked. they are in rafka, she was the main act, this was what she wore. that night. he is not dumb. he can put the pieces together - inej's dream to hunt down slavers, her innate abilities when it came to heights. it feels surreal, in the vaguest way, to see it played out before him - but it's not impossible. this, what he is seeing, is not impossible.
the details she starts in on begin to make him tense, feeling inej bare herself out for him in the briefest of comments. his eyes scan the room again, like he could possibly see the men trying to sneak through the tent walls even now. like he'll have to be party to the scene, to what he can only imagine happens.
i never made it.
kaz's hand tightens around his cane, his body nearly vibrating with the building tension of the room. when inej turns to face him, her eyes dark, he feels like tearing someone apart - limb by limb. ]
We are leaving. [ he responds, his face impassive compared to the electricity under his skin. ] Before nightfall. There will be no chains, tonight.
[ it's a promise he knows he shouldn't make, but he makes anyway, keeping inej's eye contact for the next few moments before he moves to walk back to the tent flap. he listens, hearing the sounds of footfalls, of people, of movement and low conversations in a variety of languages. his mind is slowly starting to piece this together. ]
no subject
his eyes go towards the source of the voice, his fists tense at his sides. a voice in the back of his head tries to abate him - that is her mother - but the urge to fight or flee is still coursing through him, right under his skin. inej responds, kaz's eyes flitting to her back and how she's still got her head tilted down, her eyes closed. but the tone is unmistakeable. familiar. and sure enough the footsteps leave them, and kaz slowly lets himself breathe once more.
when inej switches back to kerch, kaz's eyes fall back on the back of her head. he doesn't need to see her face to feel the air shift, to know she feels vulnerable, upset, panicked. they are in rafka, she was the main act, this was what she wore. that night. he is not dumb. he can put the pieces together - inej's dream to hunt down slavers, her innate abilities when it came to heights. it feels surreal, in the vaguest way, to see it played out before him - but it's not impossible. this, what he is seeing, is not impossible.
the details she starts in on begin to make him tense, feeling inej bare herself out for him in the briefest of comments. his eyes scan the room again, like he could possibly see the men trying to sneak through the tent walls even now. like he'll have to be party to the scene, to what he can only imagine happens.
i never made it.
kaz's hand tightens around his cane, his body nearly vibrating with the building tension of the room. when inej turns to face him, her eyes dark, he feels like tearing someone apart - limb by limb. ]
We are leaving. [ he responds, his face impassive compared to the electricity under his skin. ] Before nightfall. There will be no chains, tonight.
[ it's a promise he knows he shouldn't make, but he makes anyway, keeping inej's eye contact for the next few moments before he moves to walk back to the tent flap. he listens, hearing the sounds of footfalls, of people, of movement and low conversations in a variety of languages. his mind is slowly starting to piece this together. ]
When does the show start?