A Visitor from Terrasen [Indefinite Hiatus]

Part 3: Truth Often Stems From Rumours

They were just finishing up with a coffee after Celaena had finished telling her depressing tale. Feyre felt blessed to be surrounded by her family, and the grief on Celaena's face when she thought of how far away her own was had nearly broken Feyre's heart again.

Hearing the woman's tale straight from her, and seeing what it took from her to mentally go through it all again. It was horrifying. Rhys had stood up from the chair now, leaving Feyre by herself across from Amren, who was still looking a bit pissy.

She never had gotten over having to eat human food. Although Feyre couldn't see the appeal of drinking blood itself the functionality of drinking blood, once or twice a day and not having a digestive system, at least not one like any other in this work, did make sense to her. Amren bitched and complained on a regular basis about how a male form would have been much more sensible, and the Inner Circle no longer found the idea strange, instead just agreeing with her until she shut up.

"Oh ho ho, what's this," Rhys spoke from where he stood beside a desk against the far wall of the room, behind Feyre. "It would appear Kallias is trying to send us some mail."

"Who's that then?" Celaena drawled from the dining table, Feyre couldn't help but notice Azriel was still sitting next to her, and he was leaning towards her rather than away. Cassian had also stayed in his seat at the far end from his wife, and they seemed to be having a staring contest down the full length of the table.

Elain was fiddling with the tablecloth, trying not to get caught in the gaze between them and kept shooting glances at Azriel. She had clearly noticed how he continued to sit near the assassin, when usually he would have gotten up from his chair the moment he finished eating. Az was never one to sit around in the middle of a crowded room, he liked to be in the corner, usually standing unless there was a half-backed chair which was tucked away from the main seating area. And yet, he stayed, relatively unmoving, with his hands under the table. It was an unconscious habit of his, even after all these years he kept his hands out of view. Feyre didn't know if he didn't like being reminded of the burns and scars, or if he did it for the sake of others.

Celaena didn't seem to think it was strange though and sat there rather cheerily having her own cup of coffee. The spymaster had passed on tea, which Cassian had booed at and asked for extra for himself instead.

"Kallias is the High Lord of the Winter Court, they do ice."

The assassin cringed, "Yeah we had an outbreak of users during the war, I thought you were at peace though, is it really a problem there?"

All of them blinked at her in confusion, Feyre included.

"As in... their magic is to form and control ice." Rhys sounded like he was trying not to laugh, "What did you think I meant by 'do ice'?"

Celaena's eyes widened in realisation and she chuckled, rubbing her eyes, she still seemed a tad hungover. "We have a drug in my world, people call it ice." Feyre felt a twinge of concern as the other woman gave her husband a rather chaotic grin and continued, "But your version makes a lot more sense."

In a subconscious act to divert her husband's attention, Feyre twisted round and reminded him, "What does Kallias want?"

The High Lord pulled a face at the note in his hand, through the back of the paper, fine written letters could be seen.

"Is something wrong?" Cassian interjected, starting to become slightly concerned.

"No... no its just.... I'm surprised we hadn't heard about this."

Rhys let out a sight and leaned on the back of the sofa his wife rested on.

"It would seem, there is a Fae warrior running amock in the other courts."