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The first time Jesper sees him, he’s sure the whole world must’ve stopped spinning.

The whole world comes to a stop, sunrises and dawns set in Jesper’s eyes, constellations explode and burn to ashes, mountains collapse and oceans rise and rise until there’s no escape possible.

The first time Jesper sees him, he’s about to be beaten and possibly left to die by the small group of Razorgulls he didn’t manage to stop with his guns. They weren’t a small group in the beginning, but alone there’s only so much he can do.

Jesper isn’t really sure what this is about - if it’s about one of his newly founded debts, if it’s about one of his recent jobs, or about something else entirely.

What he knows, is that he doesn’t have his previous guns anymore. He doesn’t have his guns, has no way the fend for himself, and they must’ve hit him pretty hard on the head because everything is fucking spinning.

Jesper closes his eyes, sends a quick prayer to any saint who could possibly listen to him, spares a single, remorseful thought for his father, and then opens his eyes, ready to go out with as much of a fight as he can put up.

When he opens his eyes, Kaz Brekker is there.

(Kaz, with his striking eyes and sharp features, high cheekbones and snarled lips, and that suit black as the night fitting perfectly over and, oh, Jesper is so fucked.)

Kaz stands there, like a vengeful angel, holding his cane in a way that makes even the bravest of the Razorgulls reconsider what’s happening, and doesn’t even look at Jesper.

Two against ten is just vaguely better than the situation Jesper was a couple seconds before. Not that he’s complaining, he has heard rumors and knows what Kaz Brekker is capable of - so much that they actually end up alive.

That alone is such an unexpected turn of events that, for a moment, Jesper doesn’t even notice Kaz is looking at him.

That alone is such an unexpected turn of events that, for a moment, Jesper doesn’t even notice Kaz is looking at him.

When he does, it's impossible to notice anything else.

"You sure know how to use that cane, huh?" Jesper tries with a sly smile that doesn't really reach his eyes and is met with silence and an ever harder stare.

And that's fine, that's totally, completely, perfectly fine. Kaz Brekker is looking directly at him, and that definitely doesn't make Jesper think he'd do anything to keep those eyes on him.

Kaz Brekker is looking at him, and Jesper feels like he could bask in his attention forever.

Kaz starts walking away without a word, and Jesper follows - because what else could he do? What else could he possibly do other than follow?

"So, why did you do that?" Jesper asks, and Kaz keeps his silence. They walk through Ketterdam's canals, avoiding rats and garbage, following a direction Kaz knows and Jesper doesn't.

"I don't think you go around Ketterdam saving every handsome boy you see," Jesper tries again, and Kaz doesn't answer.

Jesper still follows, and he's pretty sure he could follow Kaz Brekker to his own death - or salvation, or possibly many, many riches. Hopefully not death, hopefully many riches.

"You have a decent aim. You shouldn't waste it."

Oh, Jesper would definitely follow him to the end of the world.


Wylan is one of the most amazing people Jesper has ever met, there’s no denying that.

When Jesper first met him, he really thought he was just a spoiled merchling, unsuited for the life they all were leading, unsuited for anything that wasn’t filled with riches and servants and

Tell Jesper he’s missed around the Slat, the words swim in his head no stop, and it gets harder and harder to hear anything else as he rolls them under his tongue. Tell Jesper he’s missed around the Slat.

This was supposed to be it. This was supposed to be the happy ending all of them wanted, all of them longed for. And in some ways, it is. Jesper would be lying if he’d say he’s not glad his debts are fully paid and his Da is back home, safe and sound.

And still.

Tell Jesper he’s missed around the Slat.

And still, the same energy that always trummed below his skin, the same restless energy that always pushed to more, to do more, to feel more, to seek more, to reach for more, that same energy is still there.

Jesper doesn’t know what to do with it, just as much as he doesn't know what to do with those seven words he can’t stop playing in his head.

Wylan knows, because they spent a lot of time together and Jesper isn’t exactly hard to read.

“You want to go see what he wants, don’t you?” Wylan asks one evening, when they’re having dinner and Jesper is so jittery his left knee has been incessantly bouncing for the past hour.

“See who?” Jesper tries, and his poker face is just as good as when he plays cards.

Wylan rolls his eyes, and Jesper has to suppress a laugh - there’s something endearing about Wylan having taken so well to his new life, to his new role. He looks more sure in his skin, he looks much more confident.

It’s a good look on him.

“Kaz Brekker. Bastard of the Barrel. Demjin extraordinaire.”

“Ah. Him.”

“Yes, him.”

Jesper doesn’t reply, Wylan doesn't insist, and there’s nothing weird between them. Jesper knows Wylan knows. Everybody knows. It’s just that he doesn’t want to face it again. He’s not sure he’d have the strength to do it again.

He doesn’t know what “being missed around the Slat” entails. Jesper knows he’s the best sharpshooter in Ketterdam. Maybe that’s why he’s missed, maybe Kaz finds himself without his Wraith, without his sharpshooter, without his Heartrender, and doesn’t like it.

Jesper would be the only one dumb enough to go back just because Kaz asks for him.

(And Kaz knows this, oh, he knows. He knows everything about everyone and there’s no way he doesn’t know Jesper would be back, if he’d only asked.)

Jesper knows. Wylan knows. Inez knows, and that explains the pity in her eyes when she relied the message. Kaz knows, the whole Ketterdam probably knows.

And Jesper, Jesper is stupid enough to go back.



When Bilbo first sees the small package on the table he’s using as a desk, nestled among ancient books he’s trying to catalog with no particular system whatsoever, he immediately thinks it must be from Thorin.

First, because he’s the only one with access to his rooms, after many discussions on why exactly Bilbo would’ve been in danger in a literal stronghold full of friends - which, obviously, Thorin ended up winning anyway.

Secondly, because every other person in his life, dwarf or hobbit alike, would’ve given him a gift - is it a gift? Is it something else? - in person. Well, Thorin would’ve also done so, but after the battle, something changed, and Bilbo is not sure it changed for the better.

(Thirdly, because Bilbo can’t help but hope that all those looks, all those lingering, almost non-existent touches, mean something.)

The package, beautifully wrapped in a way that makes Bilbo sure Thorin must’ve asked help for, sits right on top of the letter he was writing home, because he’s not that dumb and he knows for a fact everything he owns must be on its way to someone else’s home right now.

When Bilbo finally opens it, there’s an exquisite small brooch in the shape of an acorn, finely sculpted in what Bilbo is pretty sure is amber - but could very much be mistaken.

Bilbo has never seen such a lovely jewel before, not even when he was scrambling around in the treasure hall, and has absolutely no idea what to do with it.

He picks it up, puts it down, picks it up again, and walks to the bed, setting it down there, as if for some unknown reason everything will make sense there. When it doesn't, Bilbo picks the brooch up again and walks back to the table.

Maybe there’s a note? A note would have to explain something, he thinks, but of course, there’s no note at all, and nothing that could vaguely resemble an explanation.

(He meticulously squashes down each and every suggestion his mind offers that it might mean something more, be something different, because that’s just his foolish heart talking, and Bilbo knows better than to listen to what it’s saying.)

He’s not sure why he feels so nervous around something that is, certainly, just a token of friendship. He knows the dwarrows in the mountain are slowly and meticulously taking care of the giant lair full of treasure thing, this must be... part of his share of the treasure. That’s it.

Nevertheless, his nervousness never leaves, and Bilbo finds he doesn’t know what to do with the lovely brooch - so he leaves it there, on his desk, as a memento to his foolishness and the stubbornness of his heart.

Life under the mountain is definitely not what Bilbo was expecting - not that he was expecting life in Erebor in the first place. That definitely wasn’t in his plans for the future, and yet Bilbo can’t say he’s unhappy or that he’d do any different if he had the chance.


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sidhedcv

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