Somehow, his brilliant idea of escaping and getting to sleep while it was still light out had been blocked. Between running into Merri and Aspel and about twenty other people who expressed concern that they hadn’t seen him running about - which he deftly dodged by shrugging and saying Council work - the sun was already setting and any hope of a peaceful nap had flown away. Each time he’d tried to leave, he’d gotten waylaid, and so he’d given up on being allowed to disappear.
Case in point - he’d been trying to make it to a food stand and had been stopped by an acquaintance who was droning on and on about how boring her new husband was and would Drake like to accompany her to a show next week? He had tried - unsuccessfully - to decline the invitation four times and move around her to get some fruit, but she wasn’t budging.
Desperately, he looked around, trying to find something he could use to escape her grasp, but wasn’t seeing anything. He sighed, smiled, and turned his attention back to the woman.
Rescue came from a somewhat unexpected source in the form of a tipsy bard who had made her way through the crowd after her (somewhat unsuccessful) interrogation of Darius Delacreaux. She did not actually realize that she was rescuing the councilor until she had latched her arms around his neck and watched the smile of the woman who had speaking to him flicker out even as she felt Drake relax marginally in her grip. It seemed she had done an unexpected good deed tonight. “Hello, darling,” she said cheerfully. “I’m not interrupting, am I?”
He had never been so happy to have Ari appear out of nowhere. “Not at all, darling,” he said. The other woman huffed and muttered something about an unseemly display before excusing herself. With a relieved sigh, he turned in Ari’s arms and gave her nose a kiss. “Thanks. One of these days, I’ll learn to save myself.”
“Never,” she said with a laugh, placing a kiss of her own on his chin. “I like playing white knight for you. It’s my only chance to do so, after all.” And it amused her -- always had -- how easily flustered he was by others, for all that he flirted so easily when he wasn’t thinking about it. “Besides, I enjoy unseemly displays.” The next kiss was placed on his lips, the affection easy and warm and for her, immensely comforting. There was certainly some truth to what Aud had said -- Drake did not, as a rule, cause her heartache.
“She’s just jealous,” she continued airily. “Because she’d like to drunkenly hang off of you, but she’s too proper. Too bad for her, I’m not proper at all.”
Drake laughed and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. “Completely shameless,” he agreed. “It’s really too bad. Her loss, though.”
“And my gain,” Ari said. Then, “Did you know you’re even prettier when I’m drunk?” The question was candid, followed up by, “I keep forgetting that’s possible. You’re pretty…. pretty all the time.”
Ah, he thought, this is going to be one of those nights. At least she wasn’t staring morosely into a pint of ice cream. So, that was something. “Is that so?” he asked, shaking his head. “I think you’re way prettier than I’ll ever be.”
“It’s fine,” she said. “We can be pretty together. We should be pretty together in that direction,” she added, nodding towards the booth with the particularly nice wine, “so that I can have another cup of wine.”
He managed to refrain from saying that he thought another drink was a bad idea. Instead, he nodded. He’d have to keep an eye on her, at least until she sobered up. Which he wasn’t sure would be possible with all the free alcohol. “Let’s go sit down.”
“Only,” she said, “if I get to sit in your lap.” She snuggled up to his side as he led her away, feeling much better than she had half an hour ago (and entirely too tipsy to contemplate this curious effect that he’d been having on her since she’d let herself stop worrying about everything and just be).