Of Witches And Wolves | M. Helvar ✐

11 | The Drüskelle Guard

 "Alright, you're my cousin and my name is Gale..." Rowan read the sheet as they walked, "and your name is Johan. You're taking me to my ship so I can go back home to Ketterdam after having visited for a month, yea?"

Matthias nodded stiffly, "Yes..."

"Stop sounding so nervous, wait." Rowan grabbed his arm and fixed the collar on his stolen shirt. "You will have to do the talking because my Kerch is a bit rusty."

His pale face turned whiter, "I'm a horrible liar."

They paused and looked up at him, "You aren't lying... just stretching the truth." Rowan explained, smiling up at Matthias.

"That's not funny, Rowan." They glared at him, "Sorry, that's not funny, Gale." That's not even a good Fjerdan name."

"I'm Kerch, cousin Johan." They said, forcing him to hold onto their arm as they walked into the coastal town, "Trassel will have found his way home, yes?"

Matthias didn't look away from the growing town in front of them, "Yes... and they will presume I am dead."

That thought made Rowan clench their jaw, they could see how much that hurt Matthias. But it was the only option, he committed treason and the punishment would be death if he were ever found. Thankfully Rowan would bring him home to Ravka and he'd be okay to do whatever he pleases after the Darkling sees Matthias is just a boy.

A kind one, but just a boy.

"Where do I say I am going?"

"To Ketterdam with me, you're traveling with me to make sure I make it home safely."

"Okay." He said, "And where are we really going?"

Rowan tightened their hold on Matthias' arm, "My home."

They felt how he tensed up but Matthias kept walking. He was stunned into silence. Instead of pushing him to answer, Rowan let him lead them toward the coast. Their disguises were both stolen. Rowan opted to wear a typical Fjerdan shirt and skirt, it was uncomfortable but so warm. They had a pair of trousers underneath... just in case.

Matthias never looked more Fjerdan–less Drüskelle–more regular man. Yes, a man, he was as tall and as wide as most men. It was absurd how damned tall Matthias stood. Rowan could tell he only recently grew as tall as he is with how clumsy he can be when moving quickly.

"So I will be surrounded by your people? On my own?"

They shook their head, "No, I will be with you."

He scoffed, "You know what I mean," He pulled away from Rowan, putting a few feet between them. "I won't go there with you."

"You have to, you have no other choice." Matthias was cut off when Rowan yanked him into an alleyway. Their hold on his waist clearly startled him as Rowan pulled his neck down; their faces merely inches away.

"We really shouldn't–" Rowan shushed loudly and leaned closer.

His face was bright red as Rowan looked toward the road as a Drüskelle walked past them. Once the man passed, Rowan merely sighed and leaned their head against his chest. They looked back up at Matthias, eyes alight with mischief, "Why? You scared?" The suggestiveness in their tone only made him blush harder.

And that was what made him pull away in embarrassment, "Warn me next time you're going to grab me like that–I don't even know how you–"

"I'm stronger than I look and if I warned you, that fucker would have known too." They pointed toward the road.

Matthias' face screwed up in what looked like pain, "I hate this so much."

"I know, but we're almost done, come on."

—

The damned docks were blocked off to the public. One needed a ticket and identification to get on the ship to Ketterdam. Fjerdan ships never went to Ravka–not anymore–and especially not right now. The tensions were higher than ever.

It could be felt as people were being searched and forced to open their belongings. Matthias and Rowan carried one pack between them which was suspicious on its own. But they couldn't risk being caught stealing more than they already did.

They had identification–also stolen. That was no worry but Matthias didn't memorize his script like he should have (like Rowan told him to). Rowan was confident about them getting it right, but not so much about Matthias.

They watched nervously as he spoke to a Drüskelle, chewing a thumbnail as everything around them seemed to slow. Matthias looked annoyed, he was clearly being difficult–trying to keep his composure.

It was certainly an interesting sight to see; Matthias Helvar, stellar Drüskelle arguing with another in order to smuggle a Grisha out of the country. Rowan kept a keen eye on the pair but also made sure to watch everyone around them. It was nerve-wracking.

Only bits and pieces of what seemed to be turning into an argument could be heard by Rowan.

"My aunt expects Gale home in less than two weeks, what will she think when her child doesn't return?" He argued.

"These papers aren't right, lad. Lower your voice and go home."

Rowan saw how a vein in Matthias' neck jutted out–shit. That stupid boy really hated being talked down on. They rushed over, forcing a jumbled bunch of Fjerda out of their lips. "Please, I must go home, she–she is ill!" Rowan claimed the Kerch accent they forced almost slipped.

The Drüskelle did nothing but shake his head. "Sorry, ma'am, I cannot help you. Go and get the proper papers and you will be on your way to... Ketterdam, was it?"

Rowan nodded, "To my ma, she has fallen ill."

"Who leaves their mother's bedside when she's sick?"

Matthias was the one who answered, "Gale came for the Hedjut, seeking a cure for their mother's illness, sir." He seemed to calm down now that Rowan was by his side.

"We don't like those witches,"

"I know, I know, but Ketterdam isn't known for its good health." Matthias said, "Please,"

Rowan wasn't really sure what happened, but something set the guard off to start questioning Matthias more extensively. He demanded they strip off their coats and pulled at Rowan's shirt which prompted Matthias to jump between them.

There was an unseen anger behind Matthias' eyes, "Do not touch them."

"Know your place, boy."

And then Matthias swung and Rowan fought to get out from between the crossfire. And then... they were thrown into jail together. At least they weren't killed on the spot.