7 - Had You Met Him Before?

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"I don't remember," I said in response, I felt tears pool on my eyes as I relived my past in my mind for a brief moment, but I sighed and looked up at Jesper. "Maybe."

He nodded, not pressing for more information. We collected more firewood before returning back to house. As we made out trek back, I noticed red splatters that hued the snow. There were only ghosts of footprints, as the constant snow seemed to cover them. They weren't too fresh. I turned to Jesper, silently gesturing to to the blood that trailed into the woods. Someone might be here. He handed me the firewood, which I set by my feet. I watched him unsheathe his dual pistols, kissing them for good luck.

We stepped slowly, preventing the loud crunch of snow condensing. The footprints we followed, along with a trail of blood, which eventually seemed more fresh. They led to the silhouette of a man laying in the snow. We looked around for a person, who may have heard us and gotten up and hid. Maybe they need help.... Or maybe they need to hurt. My eyes followed the trail of blood to a tree infront of Jesper and I. It led behind the tree and back around to us- Saints damn it all...-

A large, gloved hand grasped my face, covering my mouth, muffling screams I made. A sharp blade was put up against my throat, the smallest drip of blood running down my neck. Another hand wrapped around my wrists, restraining my movement. I saw Jesper cock his guns and point them at the figure threatening to kill me, but his eyes fell on the knife. I attempted to frantically figure out who was holding me as I stayed still, any moment of my body would cause the blade to slip deeper into my skin. I had to wait to move. The hands were too large to be Kaz's gloved fingers, and he most likely wouldn't have touched me in the first place.

"Ya' better lower your guns, kid," a heard voice with a deep accent snarl in Fjerdan. My mother used to teach me different languages back on the boat, it helped when we needed to make deals with other pirates. Jesper looked confused, not understanding what the man was asking.

"He says to lower your guns," I translated to the frustrated boy. Jesper obliged after a moment, but kept them in his hands.

"Drop them!" The man barked in Fjerdan. I didn't need to translate that for Jesper, he seemed to get the message. He let the guns fall into the thick snow as the blade broke a few more layers of the skin on my neck.

Jesper didn't know Fjerdan, he couldn't attempt to reason with the man articulately, but I could.

"What do you want?" I asked in Fjerdan, it sounded a bit awkward since I hadn't spoken it in what felt like forever. I tried not to let my voice quiver from the pressure of the knife on my throat.

"Are you witches?" The man asked me. He may be a witch Hunter; a Drüskelle. Despite my ability to help his pain, the blood the dripped from under his gloves hands into the snow, I doubt he would allow me to help him with my powers.

"No, I would have used my hands to kill you by now, if I was. He wouldn't be using guns if he was." I responded, giving Jesper a hard stare, alerting him to not move. The man stayed quiet for a moment before taking the blade off of my throat with a swift motion, causing him to slice my neck. I stifled a shriek, knowing I could heal myself soon. The gloved hands threw me at the snow close to Jesper. I stared up at him, he was tall and muscular, a scowl painted on his face, which had a thick beard. His eyes were filled with hatred, and his burley figure covered in thick layers of fur clothing. He had large gashes in his legs, hands and right shoulder, dried blood matting the fur on his coat.

"Do you have bandages?" He asked with a sharp tone, but there was a bit of desperation in the root of his voice. I did infact keep bandages on me at all times, in case my healing skills were not enough to fix large wounds, but I wasn't sure it was a good idea to help with man. I looked up at Jesper, who nudged me slightly with his foot.

I nodded at the bleeding man, slowly pulling out bandages and gauze from my corset and breast pockets. "Drop the knife," I said in gruff Fjerdan, glaring at the man with an unmatched confidence. He hesitated, but in a moment of need, the man threw the sharp, now blood-covered blade into the snow. I threw him the the supplies, allowing it to land by his feet. The man picked them up and begin to run away.  Did he forget that Jesper had guns by his feet?

Bang!

I guess he did. I watched as the man fall to the ground in a graceless position. His blood began to dye the surrounding snow red. I couldn't help but feel empathy to the Grisha killer, he was still human. I stood up, standing by Jesper, who blew the smoke away from his gun's barrel. With a nifty flick of the wrist, the pistols were re-sheathed into his pockets.

Without saying a word to Jesper, I walked up to the man's lifeless body and retrieved my medical supplies.

"I didn't know you spoke Fjerdan," Jesper called from behind me. He didn't sound surprised, maybe just a bit amused. I patted down the fresh corpse for any more useful materials, finding a compass, a few more blades, and a deck of cards. I pocketed them in Kaz's coat before walking back up to Jesper, who was holding the firewood we placed down earlier.

As we began to walk back in the direction of the cabin, I finally responded to Jesper,

"I know many languages," my voice was gravelly, as I had not yet healed my neck. Reminding myself, I moved my fingers near one another in a fluid motion, the skin on my neck seemed to melt back together. It took a few minutes if concentration.

"You were a model student or somethin'?" Jesper said with a chuckle. I nodded, I guess I was a good student if I was the only one being taught.

We finally came back to cabin, looking chilled and exhausted. I made my way to the couch and flopped onto it. My eyes felt heavy and my joints stiff from the cold, Kaz probably felt much worse. Inej told me one time that the cold affected his bones, especially his bad leg I doubt she was supposed to tell me what though, but people trusted me easily. Even the coldest of strangers confided with me at times. Never underestimate the power of charisma; of manufactured charm.

"Where were you both?" I heard Kaz's voice ask with anger. I didn't respond, but I got up to wash the dried blood off my neck.

Jesper began reciting the full story, making me sound much cooler than I believe I was, but it made me smile. The crew watched as the animated sharpshooter retold the events with high energy. I retrieved the deck of cards out of my pocket and threw them at Kaz, who caught them without any acknowledgment of my presence.

"Let's play cards, Crows," I proposed, flashing a smile. I felt exhausted, but I attempted to lighten the mood. I turned my attention to Matthias as Kaz shuffled the cards with finesse. His gloved hands doing tricks with the aces, eyes focused.

Matthias looked stiff, it was a Fjerdan man who died today, after all. He seemed disconnected from that part of himself, but that was still his history none the less. I flashed him a sympathetic look, which he accepted with a silent nod.

I guess we never really disconnect from what we used to be, no ematter how hard we try. I look at the group before me, pretty sure we all have tried.

"Let's play strip poker-"

"Jesper, no, just normal poker-" Wylan interjected with a nervous laugh.
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Word Count: 2178
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How do you think Kaz and y/n knew eachother?
-Valentine

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