Feyre scooched farther onto the table and pulled her legs up under her, criss cross style, careful to make sure her dress doesn't hike up.

"Are you trying to make me jealous?" She teases, scowling at him playfully. "And thank you..again"

She studies him as he lays there, letting her eyes roam over him, noticing the many scars littering his body.

"So what exactly do you do for a living?"She asks, suddenly wary of her travelling companion and his mysterious scars.

As she waits for him to answer, Feyre runs a hand through her hair pulling it over one shoulder and sipped some more of her tea. 

He looked down at his hand even it wasn't safe from the tally of scars on his body, her question shocked him at first but then again he felt like he wanted to tell her, "At bit of everything, When I was young I got forced into Slave Gladiator fights managing to survive and winning my freedom which is where I get most of my training from, since leaving I've managed to get a few manual labour jobs or Merc requests, sure I've been hurt a lot and I know the stories of all my wounds but the real issue is going half way across the known world alone" he chuckled "I know that sounds corny".

Vis sat up on the end of his bed looking at her "what about you? a simple street liver doesn't throw knives that well let alone have the courage to do it" he already knew the answer from the armour she wore down to the weapons she used she was the same as him a merc just looking for another job to allow her some food for the day, he stood leaning on the table next to her looking down at her hands "The hardened skin on your palms shows me you've trained with weapons" allowing a smirk to grow.

She looked down at her empty hand and scowled.

"Well, I don't remember much but I was trained as an assassin. I used to work with an assassins guild until boss got too greedy. I didn't let him take my money so he sold me off to some slave monger-er. After a few weeks in that place I could hardly remember my own name" She said with a shudder. 

Feyre was never shy with sharing her own story. Of course she didn't spill any details but the general image normally scared people far away from her.

"I never liked killing you know. But it's the only thing I know how to do…" She said before downing the rest of her tea and looking at Vis. "So how'd you manage to escape your Dominus?

Vis leant over taking her hand and running his thumb over the back of it, "No one likes killing, but it's a duty some people have to do to survive, I kill because I need money or im in danger same goes for you since Fae find it difficult to get manual labour jobs this day and age im guessing odd jobs like bodyguarding and assassinations are really all that's left out there for you to get your money intake" he continued holding her hand looking into her pure black eyes with a smirk "I didn't escape, I was given one wish if I won a gladiatorial Competition, I killed over 100 men in the pits with no reward just for the entertainment of rich pigs just so I could win freedom, Who knew freedom costs 100 lives of good men" he put an arm around her not to try anything just to keep her close, he didn't like thinking about the lives he took that year some of them even helped him train or gave him extra food when he was younger the grimace of his face showed his pain at the memory.

Feyres cool demeanor was slipping. Fast. She could smell Vis with how close he was too her. The only time she's ever been this close to a man was to slit his threat. She clenched her fists, took a deep breath, and focused. 

"Freedom is always worth more than we want to give" She said, slipping off the table and heading to the stove. 

Feyre poured herself another cup of tea and looked back at him. 

"Would you like another?" She asked holding up the teacup and raising a brow. 

He watched as she slipped from his arm letting out a little sigh before watching her walk to the stove, "I've heard people say one life for many" he looked at his hand looking at where the sword chaffs against it where it blistered and hardened over years of continuous use "But I'm starting to think I should have died in that Arena" he stood up shaking his head and walking over with his confidence back he shook his head "If I drink anymore I think I wont sleep" slowly taking her cup from her hands placing it down on the smooth counter before leaning closer to her placing a hand on her cheek, "Because as you said Freedom is a lot more expensive these days" he said before kissing her lightly allowing his forehead to lean on hers looking into her eyes.

She froze, unsure of what to do. Where should she put her hands? What does she do with her mouth? She's never done this before. 

Finally Feyre relaxes and allows one of her hands to move up to his arm and trace a long, white scar with her fingernail. 

"How did you survive all of this?" She asks, tracing another scar. 

Sure Feyre had scars too, but they were small. Mostly knicks and bruises. Her true scars were hidden on her back, out of sight and memory. 

Following her fingertips down to his scars he stroked her cheek with his thumb, "I had a teacher that was part Wyvern, he had me train under him, teaching me about magic and abilities beyond my age, when I started fighting he told me that to survive such attacks I had to let the Wyvern side of me out even if I didn't have the blood of one I could be like one, which gained me the name Bezerker, never taking my eyes off the opponent even after so many wounds were plastered on my body" he took her hand guiding it to a burn scar leading down the side of his torso "That's the last fight I had to under take to win my freedom, I fought my teacher, the man who taught me everything I knew and yet he didn't let me win he had me earn it like all the other battles I won".

He ran his other hand through her hair before lifting her up with one arm smiling at her, "They way heavy on me, knowing that the people I've killed had families maybe even kids but I stand here today because of that Old Wyvern and now I've gotten to meet you" he finished by kissing her neck allowing his hands to hold her by the waist.

Her hands wrap around his neck as he lifts her up and she gasps when she feels his lips on her neck. 

"You're very strong Vis" She says softly."It'll be easier in time" 

Feyre snaked her hands up into his hair, her nails lightly brushing his scalp. She moved her hands curiously taking in his face and jaw. She put her hands on either side of his face and pulled him away so she could see his face better. With the tip of her fingernail she traced his nose, then his eyes, then his mouth. 

"Fascinating" She whispers, as if in a trance. 

He smiled whispering in her ear "If you keeping doing that Fey, I might go Bezerk" he smiled slowly carrying her to the bed before dropping her on the bed kissing her holding her hands glancing at the reflection in window with his scars on show he didn't feel nervous or anxious because they went through basically the same thing as he cupped her cheek he undressed with a smirk.

He awoke the next morning with a groan looking over at the traders daughter still asleep, "Well I'm glad she slept through that" he chuckled to himself before getting up and dressing looking back at Fey's pink hair covering the pillows before walking putting the tea on the fire and gathering some food from his knapsack, with a smile he started preparing a simple breakfast enough for the day's work before waking the daughter so she could start eating and cleaning herself.