AN: This ended up being a lot longer than I thought it would be. And it’s not as funny as the original post, BUT this is how this particular conversation would go in my head. This is Rhys telling Cassian and Azriel and Amren about Feyre for the first time. And many thanks goes to @fuckyeahazriel for inspiring me to write this fic <3 (You are one of my new favorite people).
“By the Cauldron, Rhys,” Cassian said, finally breaking into a grin, his wings perking back up from where they’d fallen limply on the ground at the sight of his High Lord and friend, “by the Cauldron, it’s good to see you.”
He and Azriel had both frozen in their spots when Rhys had walked through the door of the House of Wind, both unaware that the fight was over for now, both unaware that Amarantha had been killed. Both unaware that Rhys and the rest of the High Lords had finally, finally been released.
Both unaware of how and why Rhys was returning to them.
Amren had just given him a polite nod and gone straight back to drinking the blood of whatever the butcher in Velaris had happened to have that day.
Rhys gave Cassian a half grin that only part of him felt—the part of him that hadn’t disappeared with Feyre. “Fifty years, and that’s all you have to say to me?”
From her spot before the fire, sprawled over a plush-looking armchair and picking at her teeth with a delicate nail, Mor snorted. She’d entered with Rhys and simply sauntered past a gaping Cassian and Azriel. “Cassian’s not one for eloquent language and big speeches,” she said, crossing one ankle over the other and letting her head fall back on the armrest. Her golden hair seemed to shimmer in the firelight. Rhys didn’t remember his cousin being so beautiful. Or he did, but he’d been so distracted by another beauty…a different kind of beauty…
Cassian shrugged. “Why waste my precious air on extraneous words and sentences that don’t need to be nearly as long as they are?”
Azriel flicked an eyebrow up, his hands clasped behind his back. “You’re immortal.”