[Locked to templartyrant]

[unasked_for]

[Fenris snaps awake rather suddenly. He's not sure what woke him up specifically, but there is a definite sense of wrongness to his surroundings - even beyond what he's been forced to accustom himself to in Mayfield. The bed is different, the atmosphere is different...his clothes are different

Comments

[templartyrant]

[Meredith rises like a tidal wave when she realizes what she's wearing and where she is. The fury shining in her eyes is unmistakeable.]

What.

Has happened here.

[unasked_for]

[Fenris' years as a slave help him here. If there's anything a slave can manage with ease, it's a respectfully downcast gaze. And he suspects it would be best to be looking anywhere but at Meredith right now.]

I couldn't say, Knight-Commander. I woke up here with no warning, just as you have.

[Not quite...just as she has. He's wearing a lot more. Speaking of, the tie is annoying the hell out of him. As he irritatedly reaches up to tug at it, it comes off in his hand. He stares down at it briefly before carelessly tossing it aside. A minor improvement, but it's something.]

[templartyrant]

...Hmph. I must admit, this is hardly out of keeping with my experiences in Mayfield thus far. If I do discover that you had a hand in this perversion, however, expect to suffer the consequences.

[She goes to cover herself with the blankets, her face set in a grim line.] How long have you been awake?

[unasked_for]

I stand to gain nothing by such a thing, Knight-Commander. [Fenris is still carefully avoiding her gaze. He doesn't think Meredith is vain enough a woman to take exception to his claim that there's no gain for him in having her locked in a brothel room with him in revealing clothing. At least, not openly.

At least, he hopes. In the current situation, and her present mood, she might be prepared to take offense at anything.]

Five minutes, at most. [And, suddenly, it occurs to him to try the door for the first time - he'd been too, well, stunned to do so before. Not that he's the least bit surprised to find it locked.

Well, he's no rogue; even if he had lockpicks, he wouldn't know how to use them. Though there is one possibility...for an instant, the lyrium lines flare alive on his skin, and he attempts to stick his hand through the door.

It doesn't end well. In a moment he's clutching his aching fingers and cursing fluently in Arcanum.]