Ari ♫ ♪ ♬ (gracenotes) wrote in emillion, @ 2013-11-29 19:31:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !log, arielle chiaro, drake liu |
It's late and I'm trying not to sleep, 'cause I know, when I wake, I will have to slip away...
Who: Ari & Drake
What: The night before departure
Where: Her flat
When: Tonight
Rating: PG
Status: Complete
She was as ready as she’d ever be for a possible suicide mission, she supposed. She had gotten through the last few days with their endless tasks on autopilot, but now, with everything done, her things packed, armor and traveling clothes laid out, she had found the company of her thoughts offered little comfort. What was she doing? What was she doing? She hadn’t gone to see Aspel and Aud today. There had been little sense in it, really; they both had someone watching over them, and her presence wasn’t necessary. But alone, even in the comforting familiarity of her flat, she felt… disquiet. She supposed that was the word for it, at any rate (she refused to acknowledge it as sadness). Fortunately, Drake was someone who could be counted on at the worst moments in her life; a quick message to him had netted her plans for the evening, and, hopefully, a distraction. While she waited for him, she sat cross-legged on the couch with her mandolin, working through her as-yet unmastered Soul Etude scroll. Just in case. He’d already dropped by to see Merri, so detouring to Ari’s wasn’t difficult. It would give him a chance to see her before she left, as well. He’d wanted to be surprised when he saw her name amongst the list of volunteers, but with both Aspel and Audrey ill, he couldn’t really muster any. If he’d been allowed to go, he would have signed up - Merri was reason enough. So he understood, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t concerned about it. The door, as promised, was unlocked and he let himself in, toeing off his shoes and following the sound of strummed strings to the couch. “Hey,” he said, sitting down next to her. She’d looked up when he walked through the door; when he sat down next to her, she set her mandolin carefully on the coffee table, atop the scroll, and scooted herself over so that she could lean against him and then, after a moment, some more until she pulled herself up into his lap. She set her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, smiling faintly when his arms came around her. Just the feeling of being held was already dissipating some of her malaise. “Hello,” she said, then, “Thanks. I was driving myself a little crazy, sitting here on my own.” He placed a kiss on the top of her head and held her close. “I’ve been driving myself crazy, too,” he confided. Between the plague and making sure Merri was comfortable, that Cress wasn’t trying to crawl out of bed to shoot arrows, and that Aspel wasn’t stressing herself out even more by making posts to the network, he felt ready to drop and just disappear. It was all too much at once, and things had only been made worse by the lives of his friends being at stake. And now there was the hope of a cure, but the woman in his arms was going to risk her life to get it. If he drank, he wasn’t sure he’d remember what sober looked like. “How you holding up?” he asked, rubbing circles into her back. She was tense, but starting to relax. She would have to be getting to sleep soon; the expedition left early, and Ari wasn’t even remotely an early riser. “I don’t know,” she mused. “I haven’t been thinking much at all, just… doing.” She let out a contented sigh as his hand rubbed her back, encouraging relaxation. “It is a particular talent of mine. Or shall I call it a weakness?” She nuzzled at his throat a moment, sighing again, this time not with contentment. “The problem with that is, now that everything is done, I can’t stop. Thinking,” she clarified. “Let’s talk about something -- anything -- else. Please?” This was something he understood, like it or not. His own mind had been racing for days, trying to figure out if there was any other way to go about this, but the Fighters’ Guild knew very little about what was going on - the Mages’ Guild was running the show. And then there was Merri and Cress and Aspel, who would die if this didn’t work. All he could do was have faith that the people going on the mission would be successful; he didn’t want to think about what would happen if they weren’t. “Sure. Whatever you want,” he told her, stroking her back. “How are rehearsals going?” “Hmm, well, let’s see.” She let herself be distracted by the soothing motion of his hands and his voice. “I will be the loveliest nonagenarian you have ever seen. I haven’t done fully straight acting in years, but it’s fun -- for a change of pace. I wouldn’t do it all the time. Fortunately, the guild is being understanding about my absence from rehearsals, so there’s that. We’ll get it pulled together at the last moment, as usual.” She sat back so she could meet his eyes and said, “I hope, Councilor, that you are purchasing the very best table. And the most lavish of bouquets, naturally.” “Only the best,” he assured her with a smile. And only if you co- He cut the train of thought off and kissed her nose. “I’ll make sure to send the largest bouquet of roses possible.” It was teasing, mostly. He knew she wasn’t fond of roses and he wouldn’t ever actually send them. Flowers were meant to be enjoyed, after all. She giggled at the kiss placed on her nose. “Tease,” she said. “If you bring me roses, I’ll reward you appropriately, and consider that all the warning you’ll get. Rose petals on the bed, now, those I could potentially get behind,” she mused. “Though considering you’re still incapable of breaking into my flat, that may be a bit challenging to accomplish.” She gave him an amused grin and suggested, “How are you at scaling walls and fitting though windows? I deserve at least that much effort, surely.” “I assure you, my lady,” he began seriously, “I could easily scale your wall. And you’d like it, too.” There was no way he’d ruin perfectly good roses to cover Ari’s bed in petals. Candlelight, though. That he could manage. “And, one of these days, I’ll get that lock.” It had become something of a personal challenge, really; he usually got them after a while, but this one had been in place for months and he still couldn’t figure it out. “Or you’ll take pity on me and give me a key.” That, of course, was the preferable option. “A key to my flat, hmm?” She fluttered her lashes at him, taking it as the joke he had surely meant (she doubted either of them would consider such a thing with any sort of serious intent). “Before I know it, you will have overtaken my closet, alas. And filled my kitchen with groceries. Actually.” A laugh. “The latter is tempting. After I come home,” not if, “we may have to discuss it. Horrifying -- what am I thinking lately? Handing out keys! I hardly recognize myself.” She leaned forward, kissed his lips lightly, and told him, “Thank you. I feel better… now that you’ve given me something new to fret about.” The joke came easily, her humor greatly improved after just a few minutes in his presence. “The horrors of groceries.” He shook his head. “You’ve been in rehearsal too long if that scares you.” Although, now that he thought about it, her empty, barren kitchen frightened him. How any one person could survive off of stall and tavern food was beyond him. “But your kitchen is very sad, Arielle. Coffee is not a food group.” While he’d prefer not having to pick the lock every time he came over, he wasn’t sure if he’d actually want a key. That just reeked of commitment. “Or,” he added, “you could just keep the door unlocked for me.” “You had better practice scaling walls, for when I’m not in,” Ari said with great amusement. “But don’t worry, I’ll never slam the door in your face.” And that was as much of a promise as she was willing to make. “So sweet,” he said, shaking his head. “We should be getting you to bed,” he added after a moment; his attempt at keeping his voice light was a good one, but there was a bit of a tremble at the end. When he woke up, she would be leaving, and the idea of not seeing her again…. That wasn’t something he wanted to think about or analyze too deeply. “Darling,” she said, her tone similarly light -- and the lightness similarly false -- “if you’re interested in getting me in bed, you need only say so, of course.” She didn’t address the tremor; he was worried and she was… Still not thinking about it. Tomorrow would be time enough. He tugged at the oversized tunic. “However could I resist?” he asked, drolly. “I mean, you are just the height of sexiness right now.” While he would never say no to a go with Ari, the bard looked cute rather than seductive. He mostly wanted to get her in bed, wrap his arms around her, and sleep. “Well then, sir, you’ve only to haul me over there, and we’ll see what can be done about my insurmountable attractiveness -- and lack of sleepiness.” And as a distraction -- and means of relaxation -- it couldn’t be beat. She didn’t tell him, please, I need you right now; they were not the sort to say such things, even when they were true. But he would understand, she thought. It didn’t take any effort to stand up, keeping Ari wrapped around him. “Only because you asked so nicely.” When he tossed her on the bed a moment later, he grinned; right now, they both needed this, and then he could hold her. And they wouldn’t have to think about the morning. |