Nina and matthias is fooling nobody in the tent with their antics

The Great Kerch Bake Off Fic

First of all I want to say a massive thankyou to @solarpqwer for all their help and support with Beta-ing this fic, this would have honestly been shambles without them. Also please go check out @ciph3rrr and their absolutely stunning art inspired by this fic , it was a joy to work with them again!

Without further ado, here’s my fic for the Six of Crows Mini Bang~

tarlya

The First Bake

Kaz’s leather clad fingers drum across the top of the counter as he slowly assesses his fellow bakers. They’re all standing ramrod straight, looking various degrees of nervous in anticipation of the competition that’s about to start. He’s pretty certain if he squints he can actually see a small bead of sweat trickling down the side of the young ginger man’s face on the bench in front of him.

Amateurs.

A quiet but pointed cough coming from one of the camera men just out of sight reminds him he’s also supposed to be standing still and, not wanting to draw too much attention to himself off the bat, he slides his hands down to his sides and schools his expression into something neutral rather than the mild boredom he was displaying before.

—

He’d spent the morning with his fellow contestants answering questions on camera, ready to be spliced into the intro of the show so the viewers could really ‘get to know the contestants and start rooting for you’ according to Anika, the tired looking lady with the half shaved hair and clipboard tasked with corralling the contestants between each shoot.

Kaz had remained impassive as people crowded around, fixing his hair and attaching mic packs to the inside of his suit. He sat still, even as the waters threatened to lap at his ankles and one hand straying a bit too close to his ear caused a small stone of dread to settle in the pit of his stomach.

He was here for a reason and he could get through this.

After about twenty minutes of spinning lies about his back story- “Yes I grew up absolutely adoring baking, my Pa could barely get me out of the kitchen,” and “I was so excited to get accepted, I called my friends right away when I found out.” He was allowed to leave, barely brushing past the small shadow of a girl that was on her way to be interviewed next. It made him pause because he hadn’t even realised she’d been standing there, probably for at least a couple minutes given the way her eyes seemed to question him as he went by.

He was a good liar on all accounts but something in her gaze made him feel seen. He wasn’t sure if he liked it.

Making his way back to Anika for his next task, he passed by a couple others giving their interviews.

A beautiful lady in a very figure hugging dress chatted animatedly, “It doesn’t seem real, I’m looking forward to it, I’m ready for the Darkling to make me cry.” Her good natured laugh followed and it caused a few other crew members to smile alongside her.

In the next room over there was Jesper who also seemed to be winning his camera crew over.

“Oh yeah I achieve things, but I achieve them in the way one can achieve a hangover.” He smiled in a mischievous way that reached his eyes and as he saw Kaz watching him he shot him a subtle wink.

Kaz scowled in response and Jesper chuckled, swiftly returning to answer the next question that had been thrown at him.

—-

The interviews had been annoying but Kaz understood it was a necessary part of the show; they needed to sell the contestants so that viewers would keep coming back.

Kaz himself had made sure to do as much research as he could on the 12 other contestants, he didn’t like to be surprised.

Now they were just waiting for the judges to appear and as the sound of footsteps got louder the energy in the tent shifted, the air somehow grew electric. Even Kaz got drawn into the anticipation of seeing some of the best Bakers of their generation in the flesh.

Slowly they came into view, walking as if they had all the time in the world which, Kaz supposed, they probably did. It was no secret that even though Aleksander Kirigan didn’t technically own the show, his presence held a weight that was probably only matched by his co-host and protégé Alina Starkov.

The Darkling, as Kirigan was so popularly referred to, was well dressed in his signature all black attire while Alina wore a more casual outfit of jeans and an embellished blue jacket.

Flanking the two on either sides was the shows presenters, the ever flawless Genya whose fiery red hair had been twisted into an immaculate braid for the first episode and David, a much quieter presence in the tent but could spew facts about the technicalities of baking till the sun set.

Ever so quietly Kaz heard a soft “Oh” from the bench next to him.

His gaze snapped over to the lady from the interview earlier, Inej. She looked enraptured, her entire focus centred on the judges.

He tried to pull his attention away but there was something about her small smile and warm brown eyes staring in adoration ahead while the brilliant light from the summer sun painted a halo around her that made him pause.

He could hear them announcing the first challenge as a fruitcake and Nina’s hushed comment of “is it possible to be TOO fruity?” followed by a snicker from Jesper but he still couldn’t look away.

She lifted one delicate hand and shifted her long dark braid from her shoulder so it fell behind her back, clearly preparing herself for the challenge ahead. He swallowed and with effort turned to face the front.

No distractions.

The first challenge had begun.

—

Kaz’s hands flew across the ingredients, deftly checking inventory before getting to work. For a moment his focus narrowed and he surveyed his little world of the bench in front of him, a game he could twist to his own design. He had everything he needed to create a masterpiece.

Slowly the rest of the tent trickled into his awareness and he started listening to what his fellow contestants were doing.

He was acutely aware of Inej and the way her hands expertly unrolled a bag containing an impressively large collection of different knives. She wasted no time in picking up a small one and dicing fruits like the utensil was an extension of her own being. It spoke of a familiarity borne of years practising. She glanced up and met Kaz’s gaze and instead of looking concerned at his stare she held the ornately handled knife up so he could get a better view.

“It’s called Sankta Alina, after.. You know.” She said, her melted chocolate eyes flicking over to where the famous cook was currently interviewing a very gruff looking blonde man in a grey jumper- Matthias, Kaz’s brain supplied.

She was looking at him again now, her look seeming to penetrate straight through the carefully constructed image he held up, reading him like an old book.

He considered her words before responding, “She’s not a saint you know.”

“She is to me.” She contended his statement with the tiredness of someone who has made this argument a few times before.

He hummed noncommittally in response and she scoffed, seeming to view his lack of response as exactly what it was- a disagreement. In Kaz’s opinion, no saint ever helped him in the kitchen- everything he learnt was through hard work and the inability to stop when a plan for a recipe started to form.

They returned to their signature bakes, Kaz focusing on soaking his fruits in Brandy before moving on to the batter and Inej dropping her delicately sliced fruit into a bowl with some aromatic smelling tea.

—–

They were thirty minutes into the challenge before the first disaster struck. One of the benches a couple rows down let out a colourful string of expletives definitely not appropriate for a family friendly show and Kaz had to appreciate the extent of the lady’s vocabulary.

A mass of wavy brown hair popped up above the view of the counter from where it had previously been hidden, the strands irritably pushed back with an oven mitt to reveal Nina Zenik’s scowling face.

It took her no time to find Matthias and scowl at him. “You distracted me,” she huffed and even though they were separated by two benches, Kaz couldn’t help but be a little grateful the cutting words weren’t directed at him.

The man accused stood as tall as a mountain, his grey jumper sleeves pushed up to avoid being dipped in the flour currently decorating his hands and forearms. He leant forward so he was practically bent over his immaculately organised bench to look down on Nina as he replied. “I didn’t do anything, witch. It’s not my fault you barely glanced at your instructions.”

“If you hadn’t spent five minutes reading yours to yourself aloud, I might’ve had enough peace and quiet to read them and remember to turn the bloody oven on!” Nina seethed. She was standing to her full height now, practically nose to nose with the Fjerdan as they stared daggers at each other.

If the heat of their anger could cook a cake, they’d be golden. Kaz mused.

After a few more choice jabs and a brief warning from Anika off camera, they were eventually broken up by Jesper calling over to them, “Nina darling, if you want to use my oven to bake those biscuit thingies while yours heats up it’s all yours.”

Nina ended the argument by sticking her tongue out at Matthias for good measure.

He didn’t know what possessed him but he took a step closer to Inej’s bench, and once he had her attention quietly muttered, “I’d keep an eye on where you leave your knives with those two around.” He drew a gloved finger across his neck pointedly.

The laugh that followed sounded like he’d surprised it out of her, a sharp exhale followed by the most beautiful chime he’d ever heard. If Kaz could bottle that sound he would, surely nothing he could bake would ever compare to the warmth that bloomed unexpectedly in their shared space.

Fuck, that’s not a thought he was supposed to be having, it’s literally 40 minutes into the competition and he’s already losing it. Get a grip, Brekker.

Despite that, he was already trying to think of what to say that would bring that laugh out again.

They lapsed into silence, occasionally Inej would angle a comment his way or ask a question but mostly they just comfortably worked on their own things while chaos ensued around them.

—–

For the most part Kaz was pretty methodical with his baking, his steady hands lent well into the complex designs of the patisserie he was previously known for and he fully intended to use those to his advantage when decorating his alcoholic spiced fruit cake now. Meticulously he piped silky white ribbons of icing in intricate loops over the top of the cake, listening to the background noise of the judges interviewing contestants.

Jesper tried to goad the Darkling into betting five kruge that he couldn’t balance his sugar crusted orange peel in a gravity defying tower on his first attempt. He succeeded with neither and almost knocked Wylan’s bake off the bench in his attempt to catch some orange peel as it fell.

Wylan’s interview was interesting. He didn’t have a recipe written on paper in front of them, but he happily chirped away to David about the balance of ingredients and techniques needed to add small pockets of sherbet into his primarily lemon and blueberry fruit cake. Kaz filed away this more niche knowledge for a later date.

Alina was charmed instantly by Nina and from what Kaz could make out they shared very similar approaches to baking, both with incredible intuition for good flavour combos and no fear of changing the recipe to match their ideas.

Their interview was cut short though as Wylan let out a bit of a shriek and pulled his hand to his chest. With some detached interest Kaz watched as cameras swivelled towards the action, like sharks smelling fresh blood in the water. The young red head had managed to slice his finger with a knife and had to take a two minute pause to see the medics and be given a bright blue plaster.

Kaz was re-evaluating how much inspiration he should be taking from Wylan’s baking techniques.

——

It wasn’t long before The Darkling and Inej’s shining saint, Alina, made their way to his table. He was momentarily grateful his bench was closer to the back as it meant by the time they’d made their way to him he’d already completed the majority of the bake and now just needed to continue decorating.

“Good afternoon Kaz, I’m excited to see how your bake is going. What’s that?” Alina opened up the questioning with a cheery smile and a gesture towards the bowl he had in his gloved hands that he was stirring diligently.

Genya arrived at that moment behind Alina and poked her head over the judges’ shoulder. Alina made no move to push her away so Kaz assumed this familiarity was normal between them.

“Look’s kind of like that weird cocktail I had last week.” The red head commented contemplatively and Alina nodded in understanding.

Off camera Kaz could make out Anika animatedly gesturing for him to show the camera so he angled the bowl accordingly before replying “Pineapple soaked in brandy and rum.”

The Darkling narrowed his eyes at the mix and Kaz could see him mentally picking apart the flavour combination and looking for flaws.

“Oh it looks delicious, can I smell it?” Alina asked politely, and Kaz wasted no time passing it over to her.

Genya also inhaled deeply and smiled. “I haven’t tried spiced rum in quite a while.” Her voice took on a wistful tone.

“Do you want some?” He offered and picked up the bottle. Genya shrugged and nodded for him to go ahead.

“Oh I can’t drink alone.” Her perfect face crumpled slightly as she seemed conflicted.

He was distinctly aware of the clock ticking down as he scanned his eyes across the bench for a cup of sorts. Finding nothing, he just thought fuck it, and grabbed 2 measuring cups he’d used for water earlier placing them down with a clunk. His nimble fingers spun the top of the bottle off with ease and he poured two shots out for himself and Genya.

With a brief cheers they both tilted their heads back and downed the brown liquid in one fluid motion.

Alina’s dark eyes sparkled with amusement at them as she asked Genya how the flavour was. Kaz suspected if it weren’t for her strict tutelage under the Darkling restricting drinking in the kitchen, she’d be right alongside them.

Clearly neither of the judges had ever worked in a kitchen in The Barrel.

Kaz neatly placed the cups to the side and the Darkling took this moment to turn the questioning in a different direction. He seemed at a loss for words at Kaz’s behaviour, clearly it was not the norm for contestants to be taking shots mid interview and he wanted to steer it in a different direction.

“So why the gloves? The outfit is an interesting choice in general, but surely it’d be easier to bake without them?” He enquired, his deep voice cutting straight to the point. Kaz stilled, his hand reaching to straighten the front of his suit jacket as he weighed up his answer.

“Old habits, I guess. I used to work in an outdoor kitchen and we wore them to keep our hands warm while we cooked.” Every word was a lie, of course, but the Darkling didn’t need to know that.

Kaz saw his look of disbelief and felt more lies build up in the back of his throat, ready to answer whatever the judge threw at him next.

The next question never came. A plume of white powder shot up from the bench next to him and Kaz’s audience turned to face the new problem.

Inej and Nina stood, both frantically waving their hands around a mixer that was beating icing sugar like its very existence depended on it. A fine white mist filled the air and delicately coated the two women.

“What are you two doing over there?” Shock and confusion coloured the Darkling’s voice as he surveyed the carnage.

“Nothing.” Nina hastily responded, trying and failing to subtly cover the still whirring machine with a tea towel in some absurd attempt to hide it from view.

The judges and their entourage of cameras shuffled over and Kaz quickly returned to his bake, but not before catching the small smile Inej turned in his direction.

——

“Baker’s your time is up!” David announced clearly from the front of the tent.

There was scattered applause and moans from amongst the bakers as they placed down anything they were holding. Kaz watched Jesper go through the five stages of grief in about 10 seconds as he took his hand away from his fruit cake and the edge he’d been trying to stick back on slumped down the side rather pathetically.

When they called Jesper’s bake up for judging Kaz saw Wylan enthusiastically hurry over to help carry it. He heard Jesper jokingly mutter, “Now is not the time to re-enact Ghost with me,” which caused Wylan’s face to do an impressive imitation of the cherry’s he’d used to decorate his cake. He only barely caught the “You wish” that was hissed back but Kaz was sure the cameras caught every second of it.

The judges then proceeded to verbally rip apart his bake.

Then the next.

And the next.

Kaz was pretty certain he saw the smoke coming out of Matthias’ ears when the Darkling slapped down a slice of his cake on the table to reveal a stodgy grey mess on the inside and declared it to be “the worst cake ever baked in this tent.”

Nina gleefully called over, “Don’t worry we’ve still got a few more rounds to go! I’m sure it can get worse.”

They moved on to Nina next who, despite having a bit of difficulty with the decoration, somehow managed to hit it out of the park with her candied fruit cake that left even the Darkling struggling for criticism and Alina positively overjoyed.

The next three bakers were pretty unremarkable and before long the judges drew up to the bench a row in front of him that Wylan stood nervously behind.

Wylan had somehow managed to cut himself another two times and Kaz was starting to question how likely it was he was going to get to the end of the first episode with all ten fingers still attached.

The first bite of his cake had both the judges flinching back and screwing up their faces against the onslaught of flavour.

“It’s… sour? And what’s that on top?”

Wylan straightened up and despite his earlier hesitation managed to respond clearly. “It’s popping candy. I thought it’d really add to the experience.”

“It’s certainly explosive alright,” Alina mused but she seemed intrigued enough to try a second bite. “It’s a bit much at first when you’re not expecting it but it does grow on you.”

The Darkling didn’t seem to agree and poked the sponge. “It looks like slime.”

“Oh yeah in Ketterdam we have slime all the time, it’s actually an important part of our culture.” Wylan humorously countered, rolling with the critique, and Kaz had to respect his tenacity.

The judges agreed to disagree on their love of the cake and moved on.

Inej was next and she proudly presented a delicious smelling cake. She’d gone for a simple decoration of a tea infused glaze and candied lemons. She enthusiastically told Alina about her Suli heritage and how the recipe was one passed down through generations and eventually taught to her by her mother. The pride she held for her roots was evident in every word.

Kaz thought he saw her expression slip momentarily into a small look of sadness when she mentioned her parents and he made a mental note to ask her about it later when the cameras weren’t around.

Anika leant in frame briefly and whispered something to Alina who turned to Inej mid cutting up the cake and gently spoke, “Earlier you mentioned making an icing to go with this? Why did you decide to leave it out?”

Inej’s hands gripped her apron awkwardly as she replied, “I cooked the icing.”

The Darkling paused mid chew to look at her with concern. “You cooked the icing?”

“Yeah, by mistake. I was stressed.” She defended.

Alina looked between the two and tried to ease the tension by placing a comforting hand on Inej’s arm. “Well, I don’t think it needs it. This is superb without it.”

The beaming smile that broke across her face left Kaz speechless at his bench.

It was like experiencing the full force of an eclipse: one second he’s admiring sheer joy on Inej’s face and the next he’s being overshadowed by The Darkling’s looming figure.

Judgement time was here.

His fruitcake stood proud on a stand in front of him, he’d used pineapple pieces set in the cake to look like flowers that he’d only enhanced by delicately piping icing around them. It was some of his best work, a mix of traditional fruit cake and an upside down cake.

Silently the Darkling cut into the cake and offered a slice to his co-judge. He may have been silent but Alina’s bright excitement over his decorating skills and use of some of her favourite spices from growing up (intentionally chosen, of course) caused her to rattle off a small series of compliments.

“I really like the mix of flavours here, the alcohol to fruit ratio is really well balanced so it’s not too dense. Aleksander, what do you think?” Alina turned her attention to her co-host who was still looking at the bake critically.

“It’s a bit dry,” The Darkling conceded and then scowled as if the next words he was going to say tasted bitter in his mouth. ”Barely though, aside from that it’s pretty faultless.”

Kaz couldn’t help the smirk that curled up the corners of his mouth and when The Darkling grudgingly held a hand out for him to shake. He looked down at the outstretched hand and momentarily allowed himself to feel the small sliver of disgust that crept down his spine before taking it and shaking firmly.

One down, two more challenges to go.

Thankyou so much for reading!