A pounding at the door downstairs dragged his attention away from the dog-eared book that balanced precariously in his lap. Fenris had been enjoying a rare moment of peace. With the way the city had been lately, with news of the chaos trickling in from the lands beyond, it was all but unheard of that he had an hour to relax - and now, in true Kirkwall fashion, it was ruined.
Letting his eyes drift away from the firelit pages, he instead turned to glare in the general direction of the front door, as though he might drive away whoever stood beyond it by the sheer pressure of his glare alone. Alas, he was not so lucky. Merrill's muffled voice reached his ears with urgent clarity. Fenris remained still for a moment, and then two, debating whether the blood mage was worth bestirring himself for - and then almost before he knew it, he was up, walking towards the entrance to the mansion with his sword in hand.
He swung the door open without preamble. It was unlocked, of course; anyone foolish enough to trespass would have earned whatever death his sword meted out. Still, he'd made no secret of his desire for privacy - he supposed he ought to be thankful that Merrill remembered to knock. He scowled down at the smaller elf, using the moment to scan her for blood or injury, anything to explain the 'dire' circumstances she'd noted through the door. Seeing nothing, his eyes snapped back up to the dalish mage's face. Fluster, panic, worry...but no pain, no real fear.
He relaxed muscles that he did not remember having tensed. "What do you want, witch?" His tone was more droll than venomous - but then, they'd known each other for several years at this point. He wouldn't say that he was comfortable with Merrill - or any mage, let alone one who resorted to blood magicks - but much of the edge of his vitriol towards the girl had been worn away by time.
Letting his eyes drift away from the firelit pages, he instead turned to glare in the general direction of the front door, as though he might drive away whoever stood beyond it by the sheer pressure of his glare alone. Alas, he was not so lucky. Merrill's muffled voice reached his ears with urgent clarity. Fenris remained still for a moment, and then two, debating whether the blood mage was worth bestirring himself for - and then almost before he knew it, he was up, walking towards the entrance to the mansion with his sword in hand.
He swung the door open without preamble. It was unlocked, of course; anyone foolish enough to trespass would have earned whatever death his sword meted out. Still, he'd made no secret of his desire for privacy - he supposed he ought to be thankful that Merrill remembered to knock. He scowled down at the smaller elf, using the moment to scan her for blood or injury, anything to explain the 'dire' circumstances she'd noted through the door. Seeing nothing, his eyes snapped back up to the dalish mage's face. Fluster, panic, worry...but no pain, no real fear.
He relaxed muscles that he did not remember having tensed. "What do you want, witch?" His tone was more droll than venomous - but then, they'd known each other for several years at this point. He wouldn't say that he was comfortable with Merrill - or any mage, let alone one who resorted to blood magicks - but much of the edge of his vitriol towards the girl had been worn away by time.
04-19-2023, 07:03 PM
