[Oh, more wine sounds like a fantastic idea, no matter that he doesn't relish having to get up. Not just yet though, Fenris thinks, his gaze resting idly on the line of Astarion's throat as he swallows.]

Home. In Danarius' old wine cellar.

[Mm, but the sooner they get up, the sooner they can drink again . . . with a little groan, Fenris sits up.]

Come. We have only a mile or so to go, but it will be quicker up here than down there.

[Will it? Well, alcohol makes the journey seem fast, anyway, and that will have to be good enough. They jump the gaps between buildings and make their way Uptown, stepping in and out of the shadows of chimneys and water towers, until at last they climb down a balcony and reach the mansion.

And oh: it isn't until Fenris unlocks the door and steps inside does he realize how wretched the mansion must seem. Even more dilapidated than it had been years ago, with dead leaves and dust long since settled on most of the surfaces. There's a small path back to the room he lives in, and it's there he leads Astarion: gesturing to the fireplace (where a set of logs and tinder are neatly stacked) in silent bid to get it started while he disappears to find the wine.]

There were two bottles.

[He announces it as he comes back. Who knows if they'll drink both, but it's a nice assurance to have it on hand.]