#...just to be safe

Nobody could celebrate quite like the people of Riften. 

The town square had been transformed over the course of the afternoon.  Glowing orbs of magic hovered above the plaza, painting the usually dingy city in a cool, pleasant light for once.  The Black-Briar meadery and the local tavern had set up shop in the marketplace, selling all manner of food and drink, but mostly mead.

Jarl Laila Law-Giver even called upon the Bard’s college to send some of their finest musicians to grace the event, but they were drowned out by dozens of drunken conversations, each growing louder by the minute as the guests struggled to let their voices be heard.  

Teldryn pushed his way through the crowd, silently kicking himself in the ass for letting Wren out of his sight.  He hadn’t seen her in nearly half an hour, and she would be awfully hard to find seeing as he had downed a few too many bottles of mead himself, and the fact that she was so damn tiny.  She wasn’t in line at any of the stalls, nor in the small gathering in front of the performing bards.  

Maybe she went home, he thought.  He supposed it would be worth a try checking there, at least.  

The alleys were much less crowded, with only a few straggling partygoers finding their way down them, likely trying to find a more quiet place to talk.  One particularly drunk man was heaving his guts in front of the general goods store.  Teldryn held his breath as he walked by, and thanked the Gods he wouldn’t have to clean that up in the morning.  

Across the bridge in front of him lay Honeyside, nice and snug in the shadows against the outer walls of the city.  The windows were dark, and a tug on the doorhandle confirmed that she hadn’t been here.  

“Damn it.”  He sighed heavily and paced for a moment in front of the door before leaning against it.  She would return at some point, and he would be here when she decided to show.  At least the sky was clear, so he tilted his head back to watch the stars while he waited. 

Something small and warm grazed against the small of his back, and the familiar scent of dragon’s tongue flowers and honey struck him.  A smile worked its way to his lips and he glanced down to find exactly what he had been looking for. 

“There you are,” he purred.  Wren gazed back at him with heavy eyelids and a grin as wide as her face, a nearly empty bottle of Black-Briar reserve in one hand.  “I’d been looking all over for you, where’d you go?”

“My garden.”  Wren downed the last of her drink and set the bottle aside, then placed her hand on his chest.  “I wanted to have some quiet time,” she said, staring at the buttons of his shirt.  Her fingers unhooked the top two and she pulled the fabric aside and let out a happy little hum.

Teldryn drew in a sharp breath as her lips pressed against his bare skin, and he forced out his thoughts as calmly as he could.  “I was worried, little dragon.”

Wren opened her eyes and looked up at him, not taking her mouth away from his chest even to speak.  “Why?” 

“I saw how much you had to drink, you could have-”  He let his head fall back and sighed as she tugged clumsily at the waistband of his pants and continued nipping at his flesh.  “...could have fallen into the canals.”

She chuckled against him.  “But I didn't.”  

A faint roar of laughter erupted from the town center which soon faded away, leaving the dull murmur of the crowd and the faintest hint of music floating down the alley toward them.  Teldryn wondered what fun they were missing out on, but he was glad to be away from the noise.  

“So…” he began, pushing his fingers through her hair.  Wren stopped her little bout of kisses and rested her head on his chest, his open shirt fluttering as she released a hot breath down the front of it.  Teldryn smiled.  "Want to head back to the party?”

"No." She slowly pulled away from him and fumbled through her pockets, then pulled out her key, jiggled it in the lock, and the door opened with a satisfying creak.