Gloria's Mansion

He looks away, studying a section of the wall that someone had gouged with their nails. "I don't know, Sabine... I didn't know you like I do now when you arrived, so I probably would have."

Oliver: "I'm not the curious type. I learn a lot through reading, so I've becoming less questioning as time goes on." He chuckles quietly.


Darcy: He looks out of the office window, running a hand through his hair in frustration. All this information on Hawkeye, and he still isn't in our grasp. Darcy frowns when he hears a knock at the door. "Enter."

"Sir," one of his people says, "there's a patronus... at the door."

"At the door?" Darcy looks surprised. "I must be dreaming... That's ridiculous. Patronuses don't wait at doors."

"Well, this one does, sir."

Darcy groans and stands. "I'll go and see to it, I suppose." He heads downstairs to open the door.

Oliver: He laughs as well. "Good luck with that."


Darcy: "Who? Sabine? Upstairs."

"Er, sir..."

Darcy turns to the guard, eyes blazing. "What?"

"Sir, she's down in the dungeons with Master Oliv-"

"WHY?!"

"He's giving her a tour, sir."

"A tour. Of the dungeons."

The guard remains silent. Darcy breathes deeply in an attempt to calm himself. "She's in the dungeons, then," he says to the hawk.

Darcy: "I'm not mad at her, I'm mad at Oliver," he mutters. He clicks his fingers and points at the guard. "Bring me a bottle of wine to the study. I could do with a drink."


Oliver: "I've heard of Cairo." He stops when he sees the hawk. "Magnificent birds..."

"Who's patronus is that?" Oliver asks. "It's beautiful."

"May I ask what he's wrong about?"

Disgust fills his features at the word 'werewolf'. "Horrible beasts," he mutters. "You're clearly not a werewolf. I've read enough to know that the full moon is approaching and you'd be feeling ill. You don't feel ill, do you?"

"Of course we can." Oliver continues down the corridor, guiding her easily through the labyrinth.

"We can go back up if you want. We don't have to stay down here. It's a little morbid taking you on a tour of the prison."

"I've always lived like this. I can't imagine a life without what we have." He speaks honestly. "I don't know what it's like without these luxuries."

"Yes." He offers her his arm. "What's Cairo like?"

"It sounds wonderful." He tries to imagine such a place, but finds he is unable to.