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The quiet scratch of a quill was all that could be heard, a rough nub upon rougher paper as Ashe sat at her desk with her brow furrowed deeply. It seemed like no matter how much work she got done during the day, it seemed to multiply when the sun set. The soft candle that illuminated against her form only seemed to enhance the shadows that plagued her but the quill never stopped moving. It was only when the soft hoot of an owl vibrated against the glass panes of her window did she give pause to her motions.

Ashe sighed, bringing her free hand up to rub her face tiredly. Rakelstake was not in danger, not yet. But Freljord was teetering on the edge, with news of both Sejuani and the Ice Witch. She knew not their movements nor their motives (despite the obvious, of course) and it troubled her greatly. Knowledge was the key and somehow, she found herself severely lacking in such a crucial resource. Furthermore, the King had taken it upon himself to partake in a mission she had no say in. It had irked her to know that he had run off by himself, though it was not surprising. To make matters even more annoying, she had to come up with various excuses as to where Tryndamere had run off to. Some claimed he was in hiding, and others complained that his frequent disappearances were becoming quite unbearable.

The only good news she had was the fact that her hand had somehow shed the numbness that had been inflicted upon it. Though she found her grip still relatively weak, she could now grasp things for herself. A wry smile found its way to her previously neutral expression. It was also good news for Tryndamere, that she did not yet have the strength to close the doors on him (not that she ever would).

Indeed, the Barbarian King was not as stealthy as he thought himself to be, Ashe mused to herself. However soft those footsteps were, they were not as soft as mountain deer's hooves pressing against freshly fallen snow. Every scrape of bark and every sniffle was a sound she would not miss if she so tried to. Such was the way of a Freljordian and indeed, one of Avarosa. She continued to write, almost as if she had not heard a thing but her mind was far from the words etching themselves into the parchment. The twist of the handle came slow, almost hesitant and Ashe supposed it was for good reason.

When the barest breath of wind flowed into the room, she set her quill back into the inkwell. After some consideration, she rolled the paper into a scroll before inserting it into the drawer. She would come back to it later, but for now, there was something far more important to take care of. She stood, careful not to knock over the candle or the papers. She relocated herself to the bedroom, where she knew Tryndamere would be waiting, or at least waiting. She issued no sound, no greeting, no warm gestures. Ashe simply stood with a burning wick and an expectant gaze.

The silence almost seemed to choke the night air and Ashe could hear the wax slipping down the candle she held, a minute breath escaping her lips as Tryndamere revealed himself. He looked no different with his rough beard and piercing eyes, though his sheepish demeanor was something unseen on the Fields of Justice. She lifted an eyebrow at the short word, but said nothing in response. It was clear she was making him quite uncomfortable, but all things considering, she figured she had that right.

His inquiry was met with a blink. "Better." Though her hand no longer needed bandages, there were streaks of white upon her pale skin, barely noticeable in the quiet light so it surprised her when Tryndamere had somehow remembered. Or at least, his need to pull for a conversation was admirable. She moved to place the candle on the bedside table, keeping her back turned as she glanced into the flames. What was there to say? He had been gone, and now he had returned. It was nothing different and nothing she didn't expect.

"How did your attempt at diplomacy go?" In all honesty, she was surprised that Tryndamere had even returned. No doubt he would have found many of his mind at Sejuani's camp, though Ashe would never say this a loud. "Well? Not so well?" She turned, her fingers tracing the scars on the back of her hand idly, icey blues locked onto Tryndamere's ragged expression.

Ashe felt her body move as if to retreat from the heat of the candle and it was only then did she realize that her palms had almost been touching the flickering flame. She was largely focused on the way the burly man moved, rough and loud as he paced towards the place where she had set his helmet a few days earlier. Even his response had been expected, and she simply exhaled lightly before turning. Tryndamere had sat himself down, throwing off all his items of clothing and Ashe merely waited patiently as he grumbled through the details of his journey.

"I've not heard from the Brewster in a while," she commented vaguely, making a mental note to contact Gragas at a later date. Him and the Avarosan were cordial business partners at best, though perhaps Tryndamere had a better time socializing with the... large Champion. Though his next words had her listening a little more intently. What was told sent an unusual tremble down her spine as she imagined the uproar such a thing would have caused. "Horrific," she muttered, mostly to herself. Her brow was furrowed once more. Well, she never expected it to be smooth sailing but for it to go that far?

"Sejuani would believe anything so long as it incriminated the Avarosan," Ashe responded grimly. Still, the Archer knew that Sejuani loved her people as much as she loved her own. The Winter's Wrath, however bitter, would never dishonor one of her own men in such a disgusting way. That fact simply moved the blame away from one, yet there were many more to take its place. Before she could ask any questions, Tryndamere's eyes were on Ashe once more. She stared back, unmoving and unwavering.

"Have your bath then," she uttered softly. "I understand your weariness and frustration. We will discuss this in more detail when the sun rises." Ashe picked up the candle, turning as if to return to her study before familiar thought hit her. Her eyes were back on Tryndamere, absent with accusation with full of a mild sort of contemplation. "It is surprising to hear that Sejuani would welcome you without much fuss. Perhaps alcohol is the way to diplomacy?" With that, Ashe vanished back into the adjoining room.