AN: Hello, it's been a looooong time. I hope you're all well!

This is a short piece I wrote for Klaroline Sweet Swap exchange. Six of Crows fusion with Caroline as a character inspired by Kaz Brekker and Klaus as shadow summoner.

For the ever amazing Mimi / padmcdala on tumblr 3

TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of past rape and domestic violence (not graphic but still, it's there)

"Crows remember human faces. They remember the people who feed them, who are kind to them. And the people who wrong them too. They don't forget. They tell each other who to look after and who to watch out for."

( Leigh Bardugo, Crooked Kingdom )

I.

There was a girl once, standing at the docks of Ketterdam, clutching a small bag in her hand and a beating hopeful heart on her sleeve.

Hearts tend to be oh-so-hopeful at seventeen.

She still remembers a stranger's face, with a charming crooked smile and raven-black locks sweeping past his forehead, offering her a safe place to stay in the city. She can still recall the dangerous glint in those pale blue eyes as she took him up on that offer.

But danger tends to be oh-so-exciting at seventeen.

At twenty-one, the girl - let's call her Caroline, although the girl has had many names since then - cannot forget that charming smile and how it turned ugly and cruel as the stranger took, and took, and took, the raven-black locks tickling her forehead while she begged him to stop.

But they never stop. Unless you make them.

II.

There was a boy once, standing at the docks of Ketterdam, with power sizzling off the tips of his fingers and a shadow in his fearful heart.

Hearts tend to be oh-so-fearful when they're beaten down by those who are supposed to care for them.

He still remembers his father's face, twisted with rage and hatred, screaming that he's not his son. He can still recall the scorching burn of pain anytime his couldn't control his powers and Mikael's fists hit his flesh.

Pain tends to nourish fear, and then together they grow so grand, it seems that they can never be abandoned.

The boy - he started to call himself Klaus - cannot forget his mother's expressionless face when she told him it'd be best for everyone if he left home. The hint of sorrow crossing her eyes when she mentioned his real father, a powerful Grisha.

The time he spends in Ketterdam passes by with loneliness and lies. Lies of who he is and denial of what he can do. Only sometimes, hiding between the dark alleys of the Barrel, the boy summons shadows from his fingertips to keep him company. And each time he does, his father's face twists in rage before his eyes and his skin burns with phantom pain.

Because the pain never stops. Not unless you make it.

III.

Her name is an ominous whisper across the Barrel and Klaus has heard it whispered in fear many times, usually followed by someone's unfortunate death.

The unofficial leader of the Dregs. Bitch of the Barrel. Caroline.

To him, her name means the opposite of fear.

He can still remember her face the first time they met, when she caught him summoning his shadows in the dark alley of the East Stave. That stone wall of impassiveness breached for seconds with intrigue and greed, and maybe a little bit of awe.

He can still remember how she looked - standing tall, black leather gloves holding a fancy Grisha-made cane - when she said the words that changed his life:

"I could use someone with your talent in my crew. Are you in?"

IV.

The expression on his face is disconcerting.

Caroline tries, so hard, not to show that she has trouble breathing as Klaus' fingers brush her elbow, specks of tenderness splattered across his usually angry features.

The rest of the Dregs know better than to touch her but Klaus has slowly managed to skirt around her defences, step by invisible step, from one impossible, deathly job to the next.

It's a weakness that cannot allow. She doesn't do tenderness. She doesn't d h. She's exchanged her hopeful heart for a sharp walking stick and walls covered with revenge plans.

"Let's move," she mutters as she yanks her arm away, "we have a job to do."

His shadows envelop them both, darkness cloaking their crimes and a pale blush creeping up her cheeks.

V.

Fear has been his constant ever since Klaus could remember.

Fear of his father's fists. Fear of using his power. Fear of being found out and captured like an animal, sold to the highest bidder.

Now, he's still afraid. But it's different.

Fear is an annoying fluttering of his heart when she's near. It's the twist to his gut when he sees past her walls to the anguish clouding her eyes. The empty coldness of an almost-touch.

But with this new fear, he can still flourish. He can stop hiding what he is because even if Caroline shies away from his proximity and his touch, she has never shied away from his darkness and shadows.

So when Caroline comes up to his room in the Crow Club, excitement that cannot quite contain lighting up her face, and asks him to join the heist of the century, he can only give her one answer.

"We'll be Queens and Kings, Klaus. Queens and Kings."

They will be. And they will never be afraid again. He'll make sure of that.

VI.

They're at the end of the world, they got what they came for but their time is running out.

Staggering past the snow and ice, shadows dance around her ankles as Caroline tries to keep up with Klaus. It's just a small distance left to the schooner she rented to get them to Fjerda but the guards are on their tail and her limp is so not helping.

A fling of cruses escapes her mouth when she almost trips over. She hasn't killed and thieved and scammed her way to the top, only for Damon-fucking-Salvatore to remain unscathed in the end because she couldn't run over some ice and rocks.

Klaus must've heard her stumble or curse the world because he turns around, his face contorted with exhaustion.

His shadows may keep them shielded from Fjerdan bullets but it will all mean shit if they get caught.

That's how Caroline explains what she happens next.

Klaus slows down, holding out his hand to her. Despite his exhaustion, he's so much faster than her and if she only reached out and took his hand...

She remembers his face when she first met him, fear and surprise and resignation marring his features.

She remembers his face when he joined the Dregs, all hardness and determination.

She remembers his face when he looks at her - disconcerting, tender...confusing.

Her gloves are long gone. Fjerdans' breaths are on her neck.

It's only because she needs to, Caroline tells herself.

She remembers. The weight of the bag in her hand at the docks. The dark locks tickling her forehead. Shadow-laced fingers brushing her elbow.

Her heart thuds. She remembers it all.

And she takes his hand.

AN: Please let me know what you thought in the comments ;) I'm so rusty writing klaroline! Did you like this set-up? I know it was all pieces and shreds of scenes but who knows, maybe it'll turn into something bigger in the future...

P.S. If you haven't read Six of Crows duology by Leigh Bardugo yet, DO IT. DO IT NOW.