#rhyiona week 2023

[admiralsweko]

Rhyiona Week 2023 Day Five

Prompt: Legend

Cross My Heart

You, I can make you love me

Even when I take it all -- Always by Great Good Fine OK

He’d heard the stories. They echoed in his ears, even now, as he delved deeper into the woods. According to the tales Rhys had known most of his life, somewhere deep in this forest lay a spring, a wonder to behold and rumored to be the home of a nymph. It was said that kings and paupers alike used to visit the sacred site, offering any and all for a single boon.

Now, he was making the journey. 

Lost in thought, he fingered the patch over his left eye idly. He prayed that the stories were true. He had spent the last of his meager savings in an effort to track down this legend. Pulling his compass from the pocket of his doublet, he confirmed he was still headed in the correct direction. A short time later, he came upon his destination. 

Nature had reclaimed the marble columns that arched majestically around the perimeter of the little clearing, draping the solid white stone with choking green vines. Stepping around a toppled-over pillar, he surveyed the area. Bathed in sunlight streaming in from a break in the dense tree canopy overhead, the spring was an oasis of natural beauty. Patches of scarlet wild flowers dotted the thick carpet of grass underfoot, even sprouting in the cracks between the moss spotted boulders that lined the cerulean waters of the spring.

“Hello?” He called out, not truly expecting an answer. None came. 

Sliding his pack from his shoulder, he crouched to dig inside the leather bag. From it, he withdrew the items necessary to complete the summoning ritual. 

Atop the flat surface of one of the rocks, he laid out the assortment: a small sachet, a pair of old coins, and a scrap of paper. With trembling fingers, he untied the knot that held the sachet closed. Spreading the leather out, a grim menagerie of objects were disclosed. He flinched at the sight of the tiny bird skull amid the dried herbs, fine powdery ash, and other small bones he hoped were of animal origin. Carefully, he placed the two coins on top, mindful the king’s bust faced downward as the witch that had set him on this path had strictly instructed.

He pulled his dirk from the sheath at his hip. Taking a deep shuddering breath, he steadied himself before slicing into his palm. He winced as the sharp edge of the blade bit into his skin with ease and hot, red blood welled quickly. His dripping hand hovering above the coins, he recited the words scrawled on the paper. 

The ritual complete, he looked around expectantly, but found he remained alone. With a defeated sigh, he shook the excess blood from his wound and leaned forward to rinse it off in the waters below. 

I should have known better, he admonished himself. Only a fool would go off chasing fairy tales. 

As he dipped his hand into the cool liquid, something wrapped around his wrist. Shocked, a startled sound escaped him and he tried to withdraw, taking whatever it was with him. 

Encircling his wrist was a delicate hand, slender feminine fingers with nails tipped in turquoise color. Unbelieving of his own eyes, he watched dumbstruck as a woman emerged gracefully from the depths of the spring. Water streamed down her body, splashing back into the pool with a melodious chime. Half submerged, she was a vision unlike anything he’d ever seen before.

Clothed in a swath of damp fabric, it draped artfully along her curves. Her bare skin shimmered, the water droplets clinging to her reflecting the sunlight. Long russet-colored hair lay over one shoulder, shot through with a fiery red streak of a similar shade to the wildflowers that grew nearby. Sparkling emerald eyes gazed at him. 

“My, my,” she spoke. “What do we have here?” 

She took in the bloodied display of items still laid neatly atop the rock. Her eyes met his once more and she raised a scarred brow. A soft smirk graced her ruby lips. Her voice was like music as she said, “This is some old magic for such a young thing like you.” 

“I– I–” he struggled to formulate a response. His mouth opened and closed as his brain stalled. “I came to see you,” he blurted.

A gentle tinkle of laughter escaped her as her smirk melted into a genuine smile. “Oh, sweetling. If you wanted me this badly, all you had to do was call upon me. Aww,” she cooed, her attention turning to the open wound sliced across his palm, ”Now you’ve gone and hurt yourself.” 

Belatedly, Rhys realized she still held his wrist in her grasp. He watched as she raised his hand to her lips and planted a soft kiss to his cut. When their eyes met again, his heart skipped a beat. Transfixed by her emerald gaze, time spun out, a moment stretching into eons. Distantly he was aware of a tingling sensation that zipped along his wound and up his arm. Tearing himself away from her bewitching stare, he withdrew his hand from her gentle grip, took a step back, and glanced down to see his cut had fully healed. A faint thin seam of a scar was the only indication it had been there at all. 

“Now, seeing as how you’ve gone to so much trouble to summon me,” she came forward and leaned against the rocks lining the edge of the pool. Propping herself up against the flat ledge of a boulder, she rested her chin in her palm and looked up at him with expectant amusement, “What brings you here?” 

“Uh, Um, of course,” he shook his head in an attempt to straighten his scattered thoughts. “M– M’lady, I, um, wanted— If it pleases you–” Out of his element, he stuttered over his words, “ I-I’ve heard tales of your generosity and I seek to implore upon your benevolence.” 

“Ah, but it has been quite some time since anyone has come to beseech me,” she said brightly. “Tell me. What can I do for you?”

Nervous, Rhys cleared his throat before explaining, “There is a maiden in my town. She has come of marriageable age. I seek to ask for her hand, but her father is a wealthy man. A merchant tradesmen of some repute. I fear he would not be impressed by my meager offerings, if I were to approach him now. Hence, I’ve traveled here to…” he trailed off, apprehension gnawing at his insides. Speaking his words out loud, he realized how fatuous it sounded. 

“You’ve come to me,” she filled in, “in hopes of a significant boon that might sway this man to see you as a choice candidate for his daughter's hand. But is this a question of love,” she asked, tilting her head inquisitively. “Do you care for this maiden?” 

“I’m not certain I understand,” he flushed at the inquiry, unsure as to how to answer. “What difference does it make?”

Her lips twisted into a strange smile. The expression vanished as quickly as it had appeared. She shrugged, “Truthfully, it matters not. I am just a curious creature.” A knowing look settled upon her graceful features. ”But no doubt this betrothal would benefit you greatly, with more than just a pretty wife?” 

“Y-Yes, my lady,” he admitted reluctantly. “If I were to succeed in this advantageous match, my limited prospects in life would broaden, that is true. So will you help me?” 

She was silent for a moment as she mulled it over. Her eyes narrowed as she searched his face. 

“Wait here,” she bade him before disappearing under the surface of the water. Left alone, he nervously awaited her return. 

She resurfaced once more, putting forth a cupped palm. Nestled in her hand was the largest pearl Rhys had laid eyes upon. Black in color, it shone with a hypnotizing iridescence.

“This should serve to impress your maiden’s father,” she said with a smirk.

Rhys nodded mindlessly as he reached out to take the shimmering pearl.

“Ah, ah,” she admonished, closing her fingers and pulling away. “If you’ve heard tales told of me, you will know that I don’t offer anything out of the goodness of my heart. What do you propose to exchange for this courtesy?”

“Of course, my lady. My apologies.” 

He hastily patted at his pockets before remembering the pack at his feet. He bent to it and withdrew a small velvet pouch. Loosening the drawstring, he unfolded the cloth to reveal a delicate filigreed hair comb of fine wire, studded with small sparkling stones. 

“This was my late grandmother’s,” he explained. “Although not valuable in coin, it is of great sentimental worth to me. It is all I have to offer.” 

“Hmm,” she pondered, her eyes on the comb. Anticipation quickened the drum of his heart. “Yes, I believe this will suffice.”

Relief washed over him, immediately followed by a heady sense of excitement. They exchanged their goods; Rhys taking the pearl into the velvet sachet recently vacated by his grandmother’s comb. Wrapping it up, he tucked the treasure into his pack.

“Thank you, my lady,” he nodded respectfully, desperately trying to keep his excitement hidden under the veneer of manners.

“The pleasure was mine,” she said, “And please, call me Fiona.” 

“I’m honored to have met you… Fiona.”

“And what, pray tell, is your name, most intrepid sir,” she asked, a chuckle in her tone.

“Rhys, uh, my name is Rhys.” 

“Ah, Rhys," she smiled beatifically, her face lighting as she spoke his name out loud, “That’s lovely. Well, I wish you good fortune with your impending engagement.” 

With a wave of her hand, she slipped soundlessly beneath the surface of the water once more. 

()()()

Stumbling through the underbrush, Rhys panted as he came upon the spring. 

“Fiona!” he bellowed the nymph’s name angrily. Despite the week’s span that had unfolded since his disgrace, the bitterness was still fresh. Every step he’d taken on his journey back to this oasis further reminded him of the rube he was and the rebuff he had suffered.  

He called out once more, his hands at fists by his sides. 

“Well, hello again, Rhys.” In the space of a blink, she pushed up from the watery depths,  appearing even more captivating than he remembered. “I can’t say I expected–”

“You played me for a fool,” he interrupted her. Pulling the small velvet sachet from his pocket, he opened it. Inside, the great shining pearl he’d so admired had transformed into a damp, shiny brown lump. He cast aside the offending mass against the rocks of her pool, where the thick clump of wet mud splattered along the side of a boulder. 

“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded. “Do you realize what you’ve done?”

“I suppose the proposal didn’t quite go as planned.” Amusement danced in her eyes. 

“I was humiliated. Alyssandra’s father laughed in my face when I asked for her hand.” Defeat rounded his shoulders. “She’s– she’s been betrothed to another.” 

“Alas, it was for the best, I imagine. You didn’t want to marry that girl,” she stated matter-of-factly ”No matter the advantages such a match might have presented, I saved you from a lifetime of boredom."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed resignedly. His anger ebbed away in the face of the truth. As much as he was loath to admit it, she was right. The memory of the half hour he’d spent in the company of the dull-witted young woman he’d so bent on marrying haunted him. 

“I suppose you want me to thank you, then,” he said sarcastically. “For your good deed?” 

An imperious smirk graced the nymph’s beautiful face. “A little gratitude would be welcomed.”

Unable to contain his exasperation, he rolled his eyes. “I’ve returned to retrieve my grandmother’s comb. Let’s have it.”

“No,” she flatly refused. Her hand reached up to the comb nestled in her hair behind her ear, fingers tracing the little glass stones tenderly. “The deal was struck. You received your boon. It matters not if you were unsatisfied after the fact. I, on the other hand, am quite pleased with our trade.” 

“But you tricked me!” he snapped, irritation spiking once more. 

“That’s a harsh way to put it,” she admonished playfully. “In the end, our trade was a barter for objects of equal value. I was merely less forthcoming as to the quality of my item as you were of yours.”  

“Fine,” he scoffed, outmatched. Frustrated at her arrogance, he threw his hands up and turned to leave.

“Rhys, wait,” she called out, causing him to hesitate. “I’m not completely heartless. Since you’ve come all this way, perhaps we can broker another exchange. Perchance for something more appealing than some silly girl’s favor or a worthless trinket?”

Everything within him screamed that he should continue on his way and forget this place even existed. But he found himself turning to face her once more. 

“What could you possibly have to offer me after all this,” he implored wearily, gesturing to the muddied rock. 

“Your eye.”

Instinctively, he reached up, his fingers brushing against the smooth leather of his patch. Her unexpected overture gave him pause. 

“How can I be assured that you won’t trick me again?”

“You can’t,” she stated plainly, “You’ll just have to trust me. But what have you got to lose?”

He was silent for a moment as he pondered that fact. Finally, he asked, “What would you want in exchange?” 

“Ah, therein lies the real question, my dear,” her head tipped as she lifted a brow. “What can you offer me?” 

He raised his hands in surrender, “Alas, I have nothing of any importance to give. As you know, I am a poor man, in coin and title.” 

“I don’t want your coin, boy,” she scoffed, “What good would coin do me, out here in these wilds?” She extended her arms to take in the expanse of forest that surrounded them. “No,” she shook her head as that honeyed smile quirked her lips once more. “I want something you haven’t given another soul.” 

Despite himself, his curiosity stirred, tempered by a fair amount of caution. “And what, pray tell, could that be?”

“All in due time,” she laughed merrily. “First, that eye of yours.” 

She dove beneath the surface of the pool. Rhys waited, his anxiety telling him to turn tail and run. Before he could heed his better judgment, however, she resurfaced. In her hand, she held a small clay salve pot. She tossed it to him and he caught it. 

“Apply that to your eye every night before sleep. It will give you wicked dreams but by the time the salve is gone, you will have sight in your eye once more.” 

“Th–Thank you,” he said, hesitantly as he tucked the little pot in his pocket. “Now, what do you want in return?”

“Come closer,” she beckoned.

She glided up to the rocky perimeter of the spring and leaned out over the flat surface of a boulder. From her perch, he could glimpse translucent patches of iridescent scales that shimmered in the sunlight along her skin, revealing her true nature. Confronted with this reminder that he was dealing with no ordinary woman, his eyes narrowed as he held his ground.

“Come, come,” she urged him forward, curling a finger at him.

Cautiously, he stepped closer to the edge of the pool. Still she beckoned him lower, until finally he dropped to one knee before her. Now, face to face, her eyes sparkled mesmerizingly. The sweet smile on her lips soothed his wild nerves.

“What is it that you require in return?” he asked again softly. 

“Just a kiss,” she replied, the very picture of enchanting innocence. 

Confused, his brows pulled together for a moment. “But I thought you desired something I had never given another,” he reminded her. 

“I do.”

Amusement suffused him and he smiled. “This may surprise you, my lady, but I have given a kiss before.”

“I have no doubt as to your prowess with fair maidens,” she said sardonically, “but a kiss is what I require.” 

Puzzled by her request, he searched her expression for any hint of subterfuge. She gazed back at him guilelessly. 

Finally, he conceded, “As you wish, my lady.” 

He leaned forward slowly. As the space between them shortened, he watched her intently, wary of any treachery. With none forthcoming, he proceeded to press a soft, chaste kiss to her lips. He was withdrawing quickly when she grabbed a handful of the front of his doublet, halting his progress. 

“Hmm,” she hummed skeptically. A wicked gleam shone in her gaze. “I think we can do better than that.” 

Before he could react, she pulled him in again. His eyes widened as she kissed him fully. Her lips were cold against his, a sensation he hadn’t registered on that initial contact. She brought her other hand to his cheek, the chill making him gasp in shock. In great contrast, her tongue was hot as it slipped into his mouth, a warm, slick caress that shook him to his core. 

Instantly bewitched, he was completely at her mercy. His eyes drifted closed as he yielded to her. Sensing his surrender, she retreated and nipped at his lower lip. The unexpected scrape of her teeth against that sensitive surface drew a hushed grunt of pleasure and surprise from him. Quickly, she ran her tongue over the nibble, soothing as well as coaxing him to meet her advancement. Enticed, he obeyed, uniting with her once more in a velvety harmony that set his blood aflame. With every thunderous heartbeat, he succumbed even further to the torrid, wet magic of her kiss. It was true, he had been kissed before, but the memories of those hasty or hesitant exchanges melted away in the feverishness of this connection. 

When she finally relented, he found himself panting for air like a drowning man. Still holding him close, she pressed her forehead to his and laughed breathlessly. “I’d say that’s a good start.” 

“For–for what?” he asked, his thoughts still scattered. 

“Oh, my dear sweet Rhys,” she purred his name, causing the hair on the nape of his neck to stand. “You see, this kiss wasn’t my payment. At least, not in full.” She looked him deeply in the eyes as her thumb brushed against his lips. Her other hand unclenched from his doublet, her palm spreading flat against his chest. “For your end of the bargain, you have to give me your heart.” 

“My-My what?” Crashing back to his senses, he was horrified. Quickly, he pulled away from her. In his haste,  he lost his balance, landing on his rear with a thud. Gaining his feet, he stumbled away, trying to put distance between them. 

“Don’t be so alarmed, sweet one,” she chuckled. “I speak only figuratively. I intend you no harm.”

“Wha–” he scrambled to understand, “What is the meaning of this?” 

She shrugged as she smiled that wicked grin, merriment shining in her eyes. “A goddess is only as powerful as when she is worshiped, Rhys. And it hurts to be forgotten. This ensures you’ll never forget me.” 

“ But– But how does one kiss equal my heart?” he demanded. 

“As I said, darling, it’s a start.”

Pushing away from the rocks and into the water, she lengthened herself out to float along the surface of her pool. Arms lazily stroking through the clear blue waters, she was the embodiment of carefree elegance. 

Head tipped back, she looked to the sky as she continued, “Soon, you will find I am always in the back of your mind. Your body will ache for my touch, your lips will yearn for my kiss. No matter where you go, you will long to return to me.” 

“Folly,” he spit out the word. Rekindled anger burned hot in his stomach. “I don’t know what your aim is, but I can assure you I have no intention of ever setting foot in these woods again.” 

Resolute in his conviction, he spun on his heel. 

“You’ll be back,” she sang out behind him. Her delighted laughter sounded musically in the air. 

Outraged, he rushed headlong into the surrounding forest. He rubbed the rear of his hand against his mouth in a vain attempt to scrub the events that had just unfolded away as he tried to reject the notion of her words from his thoughts. 

There was no truth to her proposition, he reassured himself. It’s all just the mad contrivances of a nefarious sprite bent on toying with me.

Even as he repeated the conviction endlessly, a seed of dissent blossomed in the back of his mind. The remembered warmth of her kiss burned like a fire across his nerves, the heady rush of her tongue as it tangled with his own lingered. Hopelessly vexed, he desperately pushed down the bittersweet memory of her lips against his and hurried on his way.

[rin-bellatrix]

Some Things Are Meant To Be

"Take my hand, take my whole life too. Oh, for I can't help, falling in love with you." - Haley Reinhart

Exploring a near dilapidated building in search of anything worthwhile with her boyfriend, sister and brother-in-law, Fiona nearly ends up empty-handed, but leaves with a little more than she expected.

Written for Rhyiona Week 2023 with the prompt "trick/treat"

Header art by AnnaSabiNoKami 🌌

Purple galaxy dividers from this post. Purple glitter divider from this post. Purple reblog and feedback divider from this post.

Enjoy and Happy Halloween! 🎃

"Hey! Can you believe it? It still works!"

Fiona stood from where she had been hunched, sifting through a chest of knickknacks, turning to face Rhys who was handling some type of electronic device as he showed it off to Sasha on the other side of the room. Her sister stepped closer and observed him manipulating the cracked interface, and she tilted her face up to his with a question and his grin widened.

The sight of them in such a moment would have wounded her heart in the past, but now it made her smile in private satisfaction. Her boyfriend and her sister getting along so well always soothed some broken part of her, one that always wanted love and safety for the most important people in her life. Sasha welcoming Rhys so readily into their small family was a balm to her soul, just as Rhys had when securing Sasha as another best friend. They got along so great, and the sight softened the most jaded parts of her. Her two favorite people were happy and healthy and honestly, what more could Fiona ask for.

Sasha scoffed, taking a step away from the company man, idly running a hand over her hair as she pointed out a latch in the back. He turned it over and inspected it as the younger Pandoran walked away at the call of her husband's voice. August complaining about something, as was his usual, his grousing mutters making the young woman smile in affection as she sought him out.

Even newlywed, Sasha couldn't resist a good treasure hunt.

Rhys tapped against the outer shell of the device, his face showing clear confusion as Fiona sidled up beside him.

"What cha got there? Anything worth selling?"

He turned towards her, his bi-colored eyes falling down to her face. "If I'm right about what this is, this has the potential to be either a removable hard drive which could contain all kinds of secrets, or... It's a handheld video game system. Can't really remember right now, I've gotta take it back to HQ to run a more thorough scan." His lip twisted into a pout as he considered the retro machine in his hand.

Fiona reached up and brushed off some dust from his lapel, her hand moving up to the slope of his broad shoulder and down his arm, the expensive material of his suit gliding beneath her fingers. By the time she lifted her eyes back up to his, his pout had disappeared and his face had softened as he looked down at her.

"As long as it's not the digital remains of a megalomaniac, I'd consider it a successful heist," she joked, her lips kicked up in a playful smirk.

He huffed out a disbelieving laugh, shaking his head at her coy words. "Yeah, never wanna deal with that again. I'm good. Uhm, but hey..." he began, his mood suddenly shifting.

The vault hunter tilted her head, allowing her lover to take hold of her hand and pull her away from the room they were in. The distant sounds of Sasha's amused tones and August's loud curses faded gradually as he lead them further into the abandoned building they were rummaging through.

They walked down a long hallway, past other rooms that had already been ransacked, Rhys all the while holding her hand gently in his own. He finally slowed as he reached an overturned bench, releasing her hand to right the piece of furniture and dust off the old cushions. He sat down and patted the space next to him, his smiling face bright in the dingy light.

Fiona felt herself mirroring his expression as she sat next to him, her knee knocking against his. "What's up? Found something special?"

He grinned, and he looked so boyish in that moment that she had to resist reaching over to pinch his cheeks. "Actually, yeah!" He slipped his mechanical hand into the breast pocket of his blazer, pulling out what looked like an old, curved metal piece. "I think it's some kind of wrist guard. It looks like it might fit you, what do you think?"

He handed it over and the vault hunter took it, turning it over in her hands to inspect it. Intrigued, she removed the wrist brace on her left arm and tucked it away, fitting the new one into its place. It fit pretty good, a few adjustments and she'd actually be able to wear it comfortably. Tapping a turquoise nail on its tarnished metal surface, she determined that it was probably most effective when parrying bladed attacks.

"Hey, not bad. Seems like you've got a good eye for this."

"There's more, actually."

Fiona looked over at him and he was already holding out his hand to drop something into hers. She cupped her hand beneath his and he loosened his grip to let something light fall into her waiting palm. Bringing it closer, she noticed that it was a pair of earrings, giant gems glittering in the center. It was certainly an older set, the setting around the jewels had warped slightly due to age, but it was still beautiful even in its diminished state.

"Wow, not bad Rhys! Clean these up a bit and you've got a pretty penny sitting in your pocket." The Pandoran felt oddly proud in this moment, knowing her lover had scored a decent haul from the remains of a long-ago abandoned facility.

So far, she hadn't found anything of note, but the thought of leaving here knowing her boyfriend had found some treasure left her somehow satisfied. It's not often that he can leave his company and come meet with everyone like this just to enjoy some time together. This was a much needed break, not just for him but for all of them.

She handed him the old jewelry back, watching in contentment as he pocketed the set, before shoving a hand down his pants pocket. He fidgeted for a moment, before dragging his eyes up to hers. She lifted her brows in silent inquiry.

"So there's also... This other thing that I found..."

"Yeah?" she prompted when it looked like he was struggling to continue.

He seemed to hesitate, before drawing his hand out and reaching for hers. He held her left hand gently in his own as he fumbled with a small object, finally securing a hold on it and singling out her second to last finger. He slid a circular object onto her digit, nestling it past her knuckles until it sat comfortably at the base of her finger.

Fiona immediately zeroed in on the shine to the item, her critical eye noticing that it was new, unblemished like the other trinkets Rhys found before. It was a ring, precious stones flashing brightly even in the slightly darkened room. She lifted her hand and inspected it further, impressed with the fire inside the gems and the quality of the overall expert craftsmanship. This piece of jewelry was truly remarkable, and it definitely cost more than a pretty penny.

She looked up meeting her boyfriend's eyes, finding him watching her intently. "Rhys, where did you get this? There's no way you found this here," she asked, watching him curiously. This was a long ago abandoned facility, the chances of something worth while being left here, untouched by grit and grime was far too low.

He shifted in his seat, his knees bumping against hers as a blush reddened his cheeks. "Well, I did find it, but not here... It was actually in a shop on Dionysus... A jeweler to be exact."

"So... You brought this here from Dionysus?"

Atlas' ceo was watching her intently, and she felt like he was trying to tell her something without using his words. When she only responded with a perplexed hand gesture, he nearly rolled his eyes.

"I found it, at a jeweler's, as in, I commissioned a professional jeweler to make this especially for me, because I was planning on giving it to you..."

"Oh..." Fiona glanced down at the beautiful ring again. The ring Rhys had ordered to be made especially for her. The ring that was sitting on her ring finger, on her left hand. Fiona was typically as smart as a whip, but she had suffered a concussion not too long ago (the perils of being a vault hunter), and it took a minute for the gears to start turning. "...Oh!"

Snapping her gaze up to his, the focused look in his eyes now made sense as he waited for her answer. She swallowed down a rush of adrenaline, feeling the pounding of her pulse all over as she realized that yeah, this was really happening.

Knowing his lady love well, the company man knew that Fiona was currently battling a fight or flight response. Remaining calm, for both of their sakes, he reached over and gently took her hand in his, lightly running his robotic thumb over her knuckles in a slow, repetitive arc, brushing over the engagement ring with every pass.

"You don't have to answer right now, you don't even have to say yes, I just wanted-"

The vault hunter vaulted over his lap, crashing into his body with such force that it knocked the both of them off the bench, tumbling into a heap of ripped up carpet. It was incredibly dusty, smelled a little bit like mildew, but the young ceo was fully preoccupied with trying to meet the many kisses his girlfriend (fiancé?) was trying to suffocate him with.

"Is- is this- a yes? Are you- saying- yes?"

"Yes you idiot," she grinned, her lipstick smeared over her mouth in a truly ridiculous but endearing way, and the Atlas president knew from past experience that his lips were not fairing any better.

"Oh okay, that's good, because for a moment there, it kinda felt like you were gonna snap my neck and hide the body under these rugs here... Do you smell that by the way?"

Fiona was laid out over her lanky boyfriend (fiancé?), her armor and sharp accessories poking him uncomfortably, but her eyes were soft and her smile was wide, and Rhys really counted himself fortunate enough that such a stellar woman allowed him into her heart. She leaned down and kissed him again, this time slowly, allowing him to cup the back of her head and close his eyes, enjoying the plush shape of her lips. Her hat tumbled off, but she didn't seem to mind as she tilted her face to taste his mouth from a different angle. Her hands cupped his face, thumbs sweeping over his cheeks as his free hand smoothed down her back to settle in the dip of her waist.

She hummed pleasantly, kissing the corner of his mouth lightly as footsteps neared their position.

Fiona pulled away to gaze down at him with all the love she usually held in reserve, and Rhys found the he couldn't look away even if he wanted to. The old facility didn't exist, nor did the smelly carpet at his back, not even the sight of Sasha rounding the corner in his peripheral could get him to break away from his future bride's eyes.

Sasha stopped when her eyes landed on the couple laying in a pile of dirty rugs, and after a moment of assessing the situation, she turned right around and started heading back. August was following her, a curious expression crossing his face as he watched his wife back track towards him.

"Hey, you found 'em?"

"Yeah, let's go, they're fine," she answered, taking his arm and turning him around.

"What, were they like, indecent or somethin' like that?" he snorted, still not over the fact that a string bean nerd like Reese could get any action, period.

"Mmm, something like that," Sasha quipped, a secretive smile on her face.

The blonde snapped his attention down to her, his icy blue eyes wide with shock. "Eh?! No way- tell me, what arm was he usin'?"

The younger Pandoran leveled him with stoic lifted brow, her expression less than impressed.

"Sash, be honest. Was it the fleshy hand or the robo hand?"

She rolled her eyes, stepping carefully over some fallen debris littered on the floor. "You realize you're talking about my sister and best friend, right?"

"Well yeah, but-"

"August, darling?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up before I file for divorce."

"..."

When Rhys and Fiona had reunited with the couple, Sasha snagged her big sister in a tight embrace, congratulating her sincerely, and as the sisters quieted down, from the other side of the room they could hear August ask Rhys, "Since we're gonna be future brother-in-law's, how about you answer somethin' for me..."

"August!" The youngest sister shouted, shaking her head as both men jumped at the sound of her voice. "I swear, sometimes I feel like I gotta keep him on a leash..."

Fiona grinned, bumping her elbow against the smaller woman as she said, "Looks like you've gotta domestic him a bit more."

"Yeah? We'll see how you fare domesticating yours," she teased, poking her sister in the ribs.

"Rhys doesn't need..." The vault hunter trailed off, both Pandoran women watching as the company man wiggled his mechanical fingers, gesturing with his left hand towards it as he explained something in a low tone towards the blonde man, who was listening intently and nodding occasionally.

Fiona felt her face burn with a sudden heat as her fiancé flicked his wrist and a soft whirring of low vibrations filled the room. She felt her sister's pointed stare and realized that yeah, maybe Rhys did have some more domesticity training due... In the very near future.

If you're looking for a spookier Halloween tale featuring our favorite otp, then may I offer up "A Man After Midnight" which features Rhys and Fiona facing off against some supernatural evil~ Also it's like five times longer than this so it should satisfy any creepy cravings you might have 😈

©rin-bellatrix 2023

☆ borderlands masterlist ⋆ main masterlist ☆

[admiralsweko]

Rhyiona Week 2023 Day Four

Prompt: Temptation

In the Small Hours

Like a devil on my shoulder you keep whispering in my ear

And it's gettin' hard for me to do the right thing here

I wanna do the right thing, baby

- You Should Probably Leave by Chris Stapleton

Beep, Beep, Beep!

Distantly, Rhys registered the sound of his morning alarm chiming. Fighting his way to wakefulness, he automatically turned toward the holographic clock emitting from the surface of the nightstand and dismissed the alert with a swipe. His head hit the pillow once more with a muted thump. Although sleep beckoned invitingly, he knew he had to get started on the day. He rubbed his hand across his face and pushed himself up to seated, trying to shake the last vestiges of rest from his slumberous mind. 

Glancing over, he saw through the soft shadows of neon light glowing from the window that the alarm hadn’t roused his companion. Still sleeping peacefully, Fiona’s eyes remained closed tightly. Her deep, steady breath whistled through her slightly parted lips. A scarlet lock of hair lay across her cheek, inviting Rhys to brush it aside. His caress was tender as he tucked the stray strands in line. These were the moments he treasured dearly, when she was not only her most vulnerable, but completely at peace. His heart brimming with drowsy adoration, he leaned over and planted a kiss to her cheek. She mumbled softly in her sleep; a wordless noise of protest or acknowledgement, of which he wasn’t quite sure.

Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, his feet automatically found their home in his favorite well worn slippers. A yawn overtook him, followed by a stretch. Arms reaching overhead, his back arched.

“Rhys?” A sleepy voice spoke his name behind him.

Glancing over his shoulder at her, he smiled at the charming sight of her blinking up at him. “Hey,” he whispered. “Good morning. Sorry if I woke you.” 

“Ugh, what time is it?” Never much of an early riser, she rubbed at her eyes before looking to the window. “It’s still dark out?” 

“It’s early,” he replied with a grin. “Go back to sleep.” 

She gave a disgruntled huff. Expecting her to turn over and fall back to sleep, he opened the digital interface of his mechanical palm and began reviewing his schedule for the day. He sighed as he scratched at the back of his head. It was going to be a long day. Mentally plotting out his approach for the task of so many sequential meetings, he barely acknowledged the small hand  that rubbed against his bare back and up along a length of his spine. Soon, the hand was joined by its twin. 

“You’re nice and warm,” she mumbled. 

He felt the bed shift under her weight as she scooted closer. She pressed into him from behind, her knees bumping into his tailbone. Her hands slid up the muscles of his back, coming to rest at his shoulders.

“Whatcha looking at?” she murmured over his shoulder. 

“My schedule,” he replied, absentmindedly. 

“Hmm, busy, busy, busy,” she hummed as her left hand slipped down his bicep. 

“Well, it comes with the–” he trailed off, his entire train of thought fizzling out in the wake of the heated kiss she pressed to his shoulder. 

Awareness of her amorous intentions flooded his body with heat. Her left hand continued its lazy journey down the back of his arm and slipped effortlessly under it, her fingers splayed against his ribs as she made her way towards his chest. Electricity danced across his skin, awakening his nerves.

All the while, she kissed along his shoulder, her lips leaving sweet lingering love bites. Her right hand slid up into his hair and took the short locks in a loose grip. Lost in the sensation of her attention, his eyes fluttered closed as he momentarily surrendered to the pleasure. Her kisses coming up to his neck, she gave his hair a gentle tug, coaxing him to bare his throat for her. 

“Fi,” he breathed her name. Even as he obliged her seductive urging, he knew he shouldn’t give in. He really had no time to spare today. 

She acknowledged him with a nibble at the sweet spot where his neck met his shoulder.

I can’t. I really shouldn’t. I have too much to do this morning. 

She took his earlobe between her teeth and gave it a harmless tug. The litany of excuses grew quieter as his will weakened further.

Trying to gather his wits, he grabbed her left wrist, halting her progress as she smoothed her fingers across his chest. “Fi,” he swallowed, trying to quench his parched throat. “I really need to get up.” 

Her laugh was soft as it fluttered against his neck. “Well, Mr. CEO, it seems to me you already are.” 

As she spoke, she ignored his hold on her wrist, instead trailing her fingers down his abdomen until the tips of her fingers played under the elastic band of his pajama pants. His cheeks flushed as he realized her double entendre.

He stifled a low groan as she moved lower. 

“Stay with me,” she whispered in his ear. “Five more minutes, I swear.” 

Despite recognizing it for the lie it was, he was powerless to resist her. Swiftly, he tugged her wrist as he shifted on the bed, gracefully pulling her into his lap. Her breathy laugh was cut short when his hand slipped under the thin cotton of her t-shirt, finding the smooth warmth of her skin beneath. 

“Okay,” he capitulated. Their noses bumped in the dark before they found the perfect angle. He captured her lips in a hasty, heated kiss. “But we have to be quick.”

[admiralsweko]

Rhyiona Week Day Three

Prompt: Celestial

Elevation

'Stop the world it's only you

Oh, my heart is waking

Cause I could be your one and only'

- Heavy by Oh Wonder

“Well, I can fix it,” Ellie drawled. She waddled back a few steps from the open engine compartment of the caravan and deactivated the scanning function on her ECHO device with a click, “But it’ll cost ya.”

“That’s no problem,” Sasha breezily reassured the mechanic. “We just had some repairs done recently, so my sister and I made an arrangement with Scooter.”

“Oh, honey, that explains a lot,“ Ellie chuckled. “You see, Scooter’s a smart boy but he’s not nearly half the greaser I am. Don’t worry, though. I’ll get this sorted for ya. In the meantime, I’m sure we can come to an arrangement of our own.” She turned her attention to Rhys and gave him a wink, “How you doing, Stringbean?” 

He was caught off guard by her sudden shift in focus, offering an awkward nod in reply. Half a step behind, his face flushed as the implication in her interest finally registered.

‘Whoa there, Rhysie!’ a digitized voice shouted in his ear. 

Startled, Rhys yelped, turning quickly towards his former boss’ AI construct. His actions drew the attention of the women standing with him. The sisters gave each other a wary look while Ellie eyed him questioningly, “You okay there, Slim?”

Attempting to regain his composure, Rhys scratched at the back of his head. A sheepish grin curved across his face. “Uh, yeah. I just thought I saw a bug. Like a really big and annoying bug,” he looked directly at the digital figment as he emphasized his words. 

“He’s fine,” Fiona stepped in, dismissing Rhys’ outburst with a wave of her hand. “You know these corporate types. They’re all wound a little too tightly for their own good,” she muttered, subtly swirling her finger next to her temple. 

Rhys pouted at the blatant dig at his mental health. Truth notwithstanding, it irritated him. An easy grin slid into place across the con woman’s face as she effortlessly deflected attention back to the matter at hand, “So, Ellie, about that arrangement…” 

His erratic behavior forgotten, the trio of women quickly fell into negotiations. 

“I think she likes you,” Jack’s projection nodded towards the overweight mechanic and leered at Rhys. “Word of the wise, though, bud,” Despite being immaterial, he feigned placing his hand on Rhys’ shoulder as he lowered his voice conspiratorially, “I’ve heard she’s just like her mother, a real wild one. Rumors get around; let me tell you. Apparently, there was this one poor sap who–”

“Um, uh, it– it looks like you ladies have this well enough in hand,” Addressing the group at large, Rhys rushed to talk over his former boss. “I– I think– I think I’ll just step outside. Maybe get some fresh air.” 

Spinning on his heel, he swiftly exited through the garage’s open bay door. Narrowly focused on ignoring the continued prattling of his unwanted digital companion, he barely registered that nightfall had stolen across the sky, shrouding everything in darkness beyond the bright lights of the garage. 

“And things were getting really hot and heavy when she rolled over on top of him and crushed—” 

At his wits end, he hissed at the AI floating doggedly behind him, mindful of the volume of his tone. “Oh my god, will you shu–” Rounding the corner of the building, he almost ran into Athena. The vault hunter pulled up short, halting in her tracks to avoid a collision.

“A-Athena, hi! Sorry. I– uh, I didn’t see you there,” he scrambled to feign an air of casualness.

“Where are you going in such a rush?” She asked bluntly.

“Um, just for some air,” he answered meekly. “I think the gas fumes are getting to me?” Nerves turned his statement into a question. 

Her eyes narrowed as she studied him. Despite having done nothing wrong, her watchful gaze made him feel two inches tall. 

“Hmmph,” she scowled. “Stay close. The perimeter is secure but there’s a colony of spiderants nearby. Don’t go wandering off or you’re likely to become dinner.” She looked him up and down, as if assessing his quality as a meal. The expression on her face made it plain she’d found him lacking. 

“Will do,” he chuckled nervously, fumbling out a weak salute. 

Having said her peace, she dismissed him with a curt nod and continued on her way.

Shaken by the brief interaction with the vault hunter, Rhys realized he was holding his breath, his shoulders tight with tension. Exhaling shakily, he relaxed slightly. To his relief, Jack had vanished, likely spooked by Athena. 

Grateful for the brief respite from the meglomaniac’s incessant chatter, he rolled his shoulders and surveyed his surroundings. To his left a raised platform of solid concrete abutted the building. Taking the few short steps leading up, he leaned a shoulder against the wall and looked into the distance. Mountains of scrap metal clumped with stripped down car frames ringed around the property, forming a protective barrier against the elements. A scattered metallic gleam shining in the silvery moonlight hinted at the maze of rusted scrap heaps and other assorted detritus that stretched for miles beyond. A breeze kicked up, sending sand skittering over the hard packed ground with a soothing whisper. 

Lulled by this pocket of serenity amid the chaos he had found himself in, Rhys began to fully relax for the first time since they had broken down. He took a seat at the edge of the slab, lowering himself down to let his legs dangle over the ledge. Rubbing the tension from his neck, his eyes naturally gravitated to the heavy moon overhead and the H-shaped satellite suspended in front of its fiery glowing surface. 

A pang of homesickness clutched at his heart. Seeing the Hyperion headquarters from this distance reminded him of all that developed since he’d last stepped foot on the space station. The short time that had transpired felt like a yawning eternity.

To distract himself from the encroaching wistfulness, he looked to the stars instead. Billions of tiny points of light studded the night sky like so many diamonds. Comforted by the vastness of space, he began looking for familiar patterns amongst the heavens. 

“Hey, Hyperion,” a woman’s voice spoke behind him.

Lost in concentration, he startled and jerked to look over his shoulder. Fiona stood on the concrete apron behind him; the light from the half shuttered windows at her back cloaking her in shadows. 

“Damn, does working at that cushy office job really make you this jumpy or is it just a natural state for you?” she teased.

Putting a hand to his chest, he tried to calm his speeding heart. “In my defense, the phrase ‘dog-eat-dog’ isn’t quite so literal up there as it is down here. So, forgive me for being a little on edge.” 

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that,” she dismissed his concern with a gentle scoff. “The things that are likely to eat you around here don’t generally try to get your attention first. At least not the animals.”

He winced at her nonchalant reference to cannibalism; his stomach twisting queasily at the thought. Quick to change the subject, he nodded towards the garage. “So how is it going in there?” he asked. A muted cacophony of tools clanging coupled with an off-key rendition of a country tune filtered out through the window. “Did you guys decide on a price?”

Her shrug was noticeable, even in the gloom that shrouded her. “At first Sasha offered you up for an hour but we managed to talk it down to half that.”

“Me?” A cold finger of dread tracked down Rhys’ spine. He swallowed around the lump that had formed in his throat. “Wh–What?”

“I’m kidding,” Fiona huffed a laugh. “Don’t worry, Hyperion. Your virtue is safe. We agreed on a semi-reasonable amount. For cash. She says it shouldn’t take too long and then we can hit the road again.”

“Good, that’s great. Great– Great news,” he mumbled abashedly.

“So what are you doing out here?” she asked, tipping her head inquisitively. “Waxing nostalgic about crappy breakroom coffee and mounds of paperwork?”

“N–No,” Although he was quick to deny it, the kernel of truth in her question stung. “I was…” he hesitated. He faced front again, embarrassment heating his cheeks. “Nothing. I wasn’t doing anything.”

“Aww, c’mon,” she cajoled goodnaturedly. “You mean to tell me you ran out of there like your pants were on fire just to sit alone in the dark? I don’t buy it.”

“I didn’t run out of there,” he said, quick to defend himself. “And I’m not… Well, okay, yes. I am sitting in the dark.” He sighed resignedly. “Fine. I was… I was stargazing, all right?”

“Stargazing?” She seemed genuinely confused.

“Yes.” His eyes rose once more to the ocean of twinkling lights overhead. “I don’t know. It's just… It relaxes me.”

When no obvious derision was forthcoming, he hazarded a glance her way. Unable to make out her expression, he tried to read her body language. That, however, remained just as inscrutable as her face.

In the absence of a reaction, a looming sense of shame hung heavy in his mind, threatening to overtake him. He turned away and hastily explained, “Sometimes when I was stressed, I would visit the observation rooms on Helios and look at the stars. It helped because it reminded me that I’m just a small part of a much larger existence,” he babbled, the need to elaborate forcing the words out of his mouth mindlessly, “and that made my problems seem smaller. Eventually, I started to recognize the constellations and finding their patterns brings me peace when things get hectic.”

Finally, he trailed off, swallowing the stream of words in order to force himself to shut up. Humiliation burned like a stone in his gut as he waited for her response. His inability to keep his mouth shut had, yet again, left him a flustered mess. Internally, he kicked himself for his innate lack of poise. 

Her continued silence dismayed him more than any taunt. Rhys prayed she would let him off easy, tossing her hands in the air in dismissal and walking away. The scrape of her boots against the concrete was his only alert to her movements. To his profound surprise, she appeared beside him and lowered herself to sit, letting her legs hang over the edge in a position that mirrored his own. From this new angle, the light from the garage shone on the left side of her face. A gentle smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

A memory surfaced, one of her wearing that exact quizzical expression as she commented on his sock’s design way back in Old Haven. The remembrance soothed his ruffled nerves, setting him more at ease.

“Can you show me?” she asked, brushing her fingers through her bangs.

“Show you what?” Dumbstruck by this turn in events, he had forgotten what they had been talking about.

“The constellations,” she clarified. “I only know the one that’s supposed to look like a bucket with a long handle. I can never find it though.” She turned her eyes towards the sky.

“Um, sure. That one’s actually really easy to find,” he said as he pointed it out to her. “It’s so small.”

“Okay, Mr. Know-it-all,” she teased, bumping her boot gently against his. “Well, show me the bigger ones.”

“Hmm.” He searched the night sky for the telltale patterns of a constellation.

“Oh, it’s so easy,” Fiona quipped, mocking him amicably when he wasn’t quick enough.

“Give me a break, okay?” he said, amused. “It looks different from down here. Oh, there!” He pointed out in the distance, his arm extended fully. “There’s Ribella, the Muse.”

“The Muse?” she questioned as her eyes followed his finger.

  “Yeah, all the constellations have stories behind them,” Delighted by the possibility of her interest, he warmed to the topic, gushing as he continued, “Each one is based on a myth, likely derived from other folklore brought here by the early Dahl miners who colonized Pandora. There’s also Sansin, the Goat; Elsive, the Emissary; Daxy, the–”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she laughed, “Slow down. One at a time, okay? Now what am I looking for here?” 

“Right. Uh,” he chuckled nervously, “The overall shape is, well..” He trailed off, struggling to explain the blocky geometric outline that seemed so clear to his own eyes. He gestured ineffectually as he tried to trace the configuration with his hands. “It’s kind of like, um…” Tongue-tied, an idea occurred to him. “Oh, hang on.” 

Activating his palm interface, he navigated his way to a star chart of Pandora’s constellations and made a selection. Ribella’s dot-to-dot celestial formation projected out in brilliant digital blue. Enlarging the image, he attempted to align it as closely as he could to the stars in the sky. 

She scooted closer and leaned into him slightly to get a better view, eyes flicking between the image and the sky beyond. He tensed momentarily, uncertain how to react with her so near. Pointedly ignoring the heat of her body as she crowded into his space, he, instead, focused on tracing the imaginary connection between the stars' alignment with his free hand. 

“See?” he asked. “If you can find these two stars first, the rest follow along.” Once he was certain she had the formation, he turned off the interface and lowered his arm.

She spotted it quickly, her eyes widening in surprise and recognition. A elated grin spread across her face as she looked to Rhys, wonder shining in her gaze. His heart skipped a beat, a warm rush of satisfaction washing over him. 

“It’s funny, ” she said, settling back. “I’ve lived on this planet my whole life and I never thought about the stars before.” 

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, “Sometimes we don’t notice something until it’s pointed out to us, even when it was right in front of us the whole time.”

A companionable silence lengthened between them as they both drank in the tranquility of the evening. 

“You’re right, you know,” she murmured. 

“I am?” Surprise lifted his brows. “About what?” 

“It is relaxing.” 

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he glanced her way. Admittedly, he was intrigued by this glimpse of the gentler side that had remained hidden under her oft times cavalier attitude towards him. With her attention trained on the heavens above, he took the opportunity to examine her. 

Even in the dim moonlight, her beauty was unquestionable. He found himself mesmerized by the reality of her: from the soft slope of her nose, to the graceful curve of her jaw, and down the elegant line of her neck. Fluttering in the breeze, the feathered tip of the scarlet streak in her hair danced against her cheek. An overwhelming urge to brush it aside flooded his senses. His hand flexed with the desire to touch her, to trace a finger along the smooth surface of her skin, to caress the pillowy softness of her full lips. 

Sensing his stare, she looked at him. He flushed, self consciousness heating his cheeks. An apology sat on the tip of his tongue, about to be voiced, when the return of that quizzical smile silenced him. Snared by the soft look in her eye, he was unable to tear his gaze from hers. Despite the resplendent expanse of space filling the night sky overhead, she was the most breathtaking thing he’d ever seen. 

Something intangible shifted within him at that moment. An enigmatic notion unfolded in the back of his mind. However undefinable, the potential of its intensity flickered across his thoughts, frightening him more than any external threat he’d faced yet. Despite his fear, he was powerless to the effect it had on him. An incandescent lightness enveloped his hammering heart. The unfamiliar sensation was almost as painful as it was intoxicating. 

“Rhys?” Butterflies awakened in his stomach at the soft sound of his name from her lips.

“Hey, you two,” Sasha called out from behind them, shattering the expectant calm. Poking her head out of the window, she slapped the side of the building to further get their attention. “We’re all set. Let’s roll.” 

“B-be right there,” Rhys choked out. His response was unnecessary, however. Just as suddenly as she had appeared, the younger woman had popped back out of sight. He was quick to gain his feet. Self consciousness prickled at the back of his neck. He rubbed at the spot, trying to soothe his frenzied nerves. 

“Uh,” he cleared his throat, scrambling to gather his wits. ”Guess we better get going.” 

Strangely quiet, Fiona stood up and brushed at her jacket. “Yeah, um, just give me a minute.”

“S-sure.”

Jittery with some unusual sense of excitement, he stepped away. His thoughts worried at the new bizarre insight that had settled in the back of his mind like a pebble in his shoe. Stopping at the edge of the building, he looked over his shoulder to check on Fiona. Her back was to him, her head tilted up with her face to the sky. The strange ache that had taken up residence in his chest tugged pleasantly as he turned the corner into the bright lights of the garage. 

[admiralsweko]

Rhyiona Week 2023 Day Two

Prompt: Trick/Treat

Spaces In Between

“You want to kiss me so badly it makes you look stupid,” Fiona taunted the company man. 

Crossing her arms over her chest, she cocked an eyebrow as she gave Rhys an arrogant smirk. Despite her outward appearance of imperious confidence, uncertainty roiled beneath the surface. 

Why did I just say that?

She had to admit it wasn’t her most witty rejoinder. But now that it was out in the air between them, there was no turning back.

“What?” he scoffed. “That’s probably the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. But coming from you, I’d expect nothing less.” With a disparaging wave of his hand, he turned away and continued down the hall.

“Hey,” she snapped, irritation flaring at his abrupt dismissal. 

Usually, there was something so satisfying about their verbal sparring matches. Most of the time she had no trouble talking circles around this corporate dork. This time, however, she was admittedly off her game. 

I’m just tired. That’s it. 

They had been going nonstop since they’d opened the vault and she could probably benefit greatly from a nap. Fortified in that contrivance, she’d almost persuaded herself that her comment had, in no way, been influenced by her recent revelations as to the depth of her feelings for this goofy stringbean of a man. 

Running to catch up to his impossibly long stride, she rounded his shoulder. He halted as she stood defiantly in front of him. Stubborn to a fault, she poked him in the chest and doubled down on her ridiculous accusation. 

“It’s true. I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention.” 

“And how is that?” he asked, sarcasm dripping from his tone. “Like I’m trying to test out the saying ‘If looks could kill’? Because if that’s what you’re referring to, then you might actually be right for a change.”

Despite his words, Fiona caught the subtle pink hue to his cheeks. Rallied by the possibility that she might be onto something, she ignored him and continued, “I always thought it was Sasha that I should be worried about but I was wrong. It was me you were interested in, wasn’t it?” 

Enjoying the look of shock that flashed over his expression, she was gratified to learn she had touched a nerve. Before he could deny it, she hurried on. “You may not want to admit it, Rhys, but I can see it written all over your face.” 

His eyes narrowed as his mouth fell into a pout. Attraction zipped through her at that stupid little pull of his lips. 

“I bet you think about me all the time. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if you —” Her barbs were cut short as he rolled his eyes and tried to move around her once more. Instinctively, she snagged his elbow as he passed. “I’m not done with you,” she blurted, even though she knew she should just let him go. 

“Enough,” he growled, his voice ripe with aggravation. Swiftly, he stepped into her space. She was forced to retreat back in order to look him in the eye. The expression on his face shifted, becoming predatory, as he realized he had her on the defense. He took another step. 

Withdrawing further, her back hit the wall of the corridor. Before she could twist away, his right hand met the wall beside her head with a click of metal on metal, his left quick to follow on the opposite side. He had effectively trapped her, crowding into her space without touching her. 

A strange awakening occurred within her at his proximity; her pulse kicking up. She frowned as she tried to stamp down the budding arousal that unfurled in the pit of her stomach. 

Curiously, he was quiet as he searched her face. His gaze was hypnotic; the captivating contrast of his mismatched eyes pinning her in place.

“What is it you want from me, Fiona?” he finally asked. “Do you want me to tell you it’s true?”

She blinked in shock, shaken by the question. Her heart skipped a beat as her mind raced to catch up. Wholly unprepared for this turn in events, she remained silent. 

“Do you want me to tell you that I think about you?” he continued, “That you’re constantly on my mind?” 

The words rang in her ears. To every question he posed, her heart answered with a wordless aching yes. 

To her chagrin, she realized she was blushing, her cheeks prickling with heat. His expression softened as he gazed at her. With a tender brush of his thumb, he caressed the apple of her cheek, tracing the rosy flush. The chill of his touch against her overheated skin caused her breath to catch.

“Do you want me to tell you that when I think about you, I sometimes imagine you like this?” 

His voice rasped against her frayed nerves, desire making her sensitive to the subtle gravel in his tone. 

Agitated by her reaction, she fought to regain some semblance of control from the storm that raged within her. No matter the truth, no matter the accuracy of his queries, she remained mistrustful. She was terrified he was just goading her on in some attempt to entrap her.

He’s got to be up to something. It’s a trick… Right?

Composing herself outwardly, she raised a brow. “Like what,” she quipped, “Quiet?” 

He smiled and another stone in her defense crumbled. “Something like that,” he answered softly.

She opened her mouth to speak but he stopped her with a finger to her lips before she could utter a word. 

“Ah, ah,” he admonished gently, that devastating smile spreading wider across his stupidly handsome face. “You know what your problem is, Fiona?” As his finger was still held to her lips, her only response was to narrow her eyes at him. “You just don’t know when to stop talking.”

Her snarky comeback died unspoken as he took that same forbidding finger and ran it gently over the sensitive surface of her lower lip. Blood thundered in her ears as her pulse slammed into high gear. Tracking down over her chin, the tips of his fingers trailed the length of her neck.

The last vestiges of her defiance evaporated, whisked away in wake of his exploration. Mesmerized, she watched him as his attention followed his movements. Skimming over the clasp at the hollow of her throat, he took his time tracing along the edge of the opening in her blouse. His touch scorched across the delicate skin of her chest. Despite being fully clothed, she felt utterly exposed. 

Realizing she was holding her breath, she let out a shaky exhale. He glanced up at her and their eyes locked. Bringing a knuckle under her chin, he tilted her head up. Slowly, he leaned closer. And closer.

Anticipation drove all rational thought from her mind. Every inch of her body hummed in response to his proximity; his nearness kindling a dormant craving that she’d refused to acknowledge before. Her lips parted slightly in preparation.

And yet, despite her silent consent, he hesitated. Breathless expectation stretched the moment into an eternity. Impatient, she rose to her tiptoes to try to kiss him, desperate to end this delicious torment.

But he evaded her. 

Using his height to his advantage, he managed to stay just out of reach of her questing lips. Defeated, she settled back on her heels and glared up at him in flustered confusion. A wicked half smile curved across his face as he huffed a laugh.

“Now, who looks stupid?” he teased mildly. 

Humiliation flashed over her like a bucket of ice water. Her temper was quick to follow as she tensed, her hands balling into fists. Ready to lash out, she was just about to cock her arm to strike him right in the gut when he kissed her. 

Fingers curling into a tight grip on the lapels of her jacket, he dragged her into him. His lips captured hers firmly, eliciting a soft sound of shock from her. Taking advantage of her surprise, he slipped his tongue into her mouth. Although it was only for a moment, the velvety caress sent a bolt of pure lust straight through her. Anger completely forgotten, she clung to him, her knees weak. 

He pulled away slightly, his eyes searching hers. Something in her expression must have pleased him as the wicked smile returned. He kissed her again, stealing the breath from her lungs. 

This time he kissed her slowly and steadily, remaining totally in control. Only offering just enough to lure her to the edge of satisfaction, he would then retreat, making an opportunity to plant a couple of lingeringly sweet pecks against her cheeks before returning to brush his lips against hers to coax her into another round. 

Driven mad with hunger for more, she clutched at his clothes, pulling at him in desperation. A quiet grunt of dissatisfaction escaped her as her ache for him grew stronger. Sensing her growing fervor, at last he gave her exactly what she needed. 

Pushing her flush against the wall with his body, he took her face in his hands and kissed her senseless. She surrendered herself wholly to the connection, lost in the swirling sea of sensations as his tongue and lips worked in harmony with her own. 

Lightheaded and out of breath, she tilted her face away as she panted for air. Undeterred, his left arm snaked around her waist, keeping her close. He worked his way down the length of her jaw, leaving scorching hot kisses in his wake. His cybernetic hand still cradled her cheek as she tipped her head to allow him better access to her neck. The smooth finish of his metal fingers was exotic against the tender flesh of her cheek, exciting her further. 

Briefly, he stopped to nuzzle her neck. His teeth nipped at the rapid pulse in her throat. She gasped at the sharp flicker of discomfort, the shock further fanning the flames of her desire. Before she could recover, his lips pressed against the soft shell of her ear. The hot flutter of his breath made her quiver. 

She could hear the amusement in his voice as he whispered, “I think I may have found the perfect way to shut you up.”

[admiralsweko]

Rhyiona Week 2023 Day One

Prompt: Dream

Stars Fading

Stars fading but I linger on, dear Still craving your kiss

- Dream a Little Dream of Me

“Fi?” Her sister’s voice quietly prodded Fiona awake. “Wake up. It’s your turn to drive.” 

Slowly awakening from her slumber, Fiona blinked the sleep from her eyes as Sasha gently shook her shoulder. Yawning, she sat up and waved her sister away. 

“You good?” Sasha asked, brows raised. “You were pretty out of it. Twitching and mumbling.”

“Hmm? Yeah,” Fiona replied, stretching as she got to her feet. “Just having a weird dream.” 

Earlier, the steady hum of the caravan in motion had quickly lulled her to sleep. While she dozed, she had fallen deeply into a dream. However, upon waking, she was left with only the vague memories of half formed images as to the events that had taken place. Now a haunting impression of the warmth and intimacy that had permeated her rest lingered in her mind like smoke. The undefinable, but nevertheless gnawing desire to feel the return of that sanctuary she had briefly experienced echoed through her. 

“As long as you’re awake enough to make sure we don’t run into anything,”  Sasha spoke, pulling Fiona’s attention back to the present, “I’d say it’s best if you give Rhys a break. He’s trying to pretend like he’s not exhausted but with all the swerving he’s been doing…” Sasha shrugged. 

“I’m on it.” 

Fiona stepped around the little table that sat in front of the caravan’s couch where she had been resting. Glancing over, she saw poor Vaughn was still frozen in paralysis. They had tried to make him as comfortable as possible, placing his stiff form onto couch cushions, but there was little else they could do. 

Eyes closed and arms crossed, Athena leaned against the rear wall beside the ladder leading to the roof hatch. It astounded Fiona that not only could the older woman sleep standing up, but that she was steady enough to do so in a moving vehicle. 

“I’m gonna check on the bots up top,” Sasha said, pointing a finger to the roof. “Make sure they haven’t blown away.” She flashed a grin before turning to the ladder. Careful not to disturb the slumbering vault hunter, she climbed up and disappeared from sight. 

With one final jaw-popping yawn, Fiona made her way in the opposite direction, towards the front of the wagon. Rhys turned at the sound of her boots scraping against the short steps that lead up to the raised driver’s area.

“Hey,” he said softly with a sleepy half smile. 

Bizarrely, something squeezed in her chest as she nodded a greeting. The unusual echo that lingered from her dream seemed to grow stronger in the moment their eyes briefly met before his attention returned to the task of driving. Caught off guard by the potency of that mysteriously continuing sensation, she brushed her fingers through her bangs and regarded him quietly. As Sasha had mentioned, he must be exhausted; the dark circles under his heavy lidded eyes and the large yawn he tried to stifle behind his mechanical hand confirming it.

“Come to keep me company?” he asked, glancing at her over his shoulder, a strange gleam in his tired eyes.

“As if.” She was quick to scoff at the notion, despite the butterflies that blossomed in her stomach at his hopeful tone. “I’m kicking you out. We’re getting complaints about the ride. Apparently, it’s not as smooth as expected. I’m replacing you.”

“Are you accusing me of being a bad driver?” His tone was full of false shock. “Unbelievable.”

“Not a bad one,” she corrected, tilting her head as she gave him a soft smirk. “Just a tired one. C’mon. Go get some rest.” 

“Ah, all right,” he relented, huffing out a sigh. “If you insist.” 

She stepped closer, putting one hand on the wheel. He unfolded his lanky body from the driver’s seat and edged around her. For the briefest of moments, the pair brushed by each other. Despite sharing the same space for less than a breath of a second, it was still long enough to awaken a lost memory from her dream. 

Although unclear as to the circumstances, Fiona remembered the whisper of his touch against her body and overwhelming sense of security that had flooded her. Shaken by the recollection, she plopped into the driver’s seat unceremoniously, her butt hitting the cracked leather with a plop. 

“You okay?” Rhys asked, “I didn’t trip you, did I? Curse of these long legs,” he muttered jokingly. 

“Uh, no. No, I’m fine,” she reassured him. “Just, uh, lost my balance for a second.” 

As she readjusted herself, she turned to concentrate on the landscape that whizzed by through the windshield, and tried to push the memory of that lingering dream away. 

Beneath her, residual body heat radiated from the seat, warming her along her back and behind. She squirmed, desperately attempting not to dwell on the idea that it was his body that had generated this heat.  Almost as if somehow he knew of her discomfort and was taunting her, he began to stretch nearby, much to her silent dismay. Irritated at her own internal reaction, she pointedly tried to ignore him but that little annoying ache still persisted within her. The temptation proved too much. 

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. The long line of his body, the arch of his back as he reached up towards the ceiling overhead, completely pulled her focus from the road, causing her hands to follow her eyes. The caravan began to swerve to the left. Quickly, she caught herself and corrected the wheel. 

Thankfully, no one, especially Rhys, had seemed to notice. Shaking her head to clear her obviously still sleep-addled brain, she cursed herself for getting distracted so easily.

Beside her, he finally finished stretching with a soft little grunt that set Fiona’s teeth on edge. Reaching the top of the short steps, he stopped. 

“Fi?” 

The sound of her name spoken in his hushed tone sent a zip along her spine. Poker face firmly intact despite the maelstrom of emotions that plagued her, she glanced his way. 

He gave her a friendly little salute, “Thanks.”

Despite herself, she was charmed. The tension that bunched across her shoulders melted as she realized how ridiculous she was being, letting a stupid, fleeting dream get the better of her. She acknowledged his gratitude with a half smile. 

“Sleep well, Hyperion. And, uh,” her cheeks warmed as she uttered, “sweet dreams.” 

[admiralsweko]

For your reading pleasure, I present to you the official compilation of my works completed for Rhyiona Week 2023. I had an absolute blast writing these and each holds a special place in my heart. Let me know which one is your favorite!

[admiralsweko]

Come one, come all! Check out my Rhyiona fanfiction collection!

Rhyiona Week 2023 Series: https://archiveofourown.org/series/3934606

Rotten Work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5295586 On Company Time: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48399910

Burn After Reading (18+): https://archiveofourown.org/works/48217033

Show-Off: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46202014

Worries As Big As The Moon: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20621948

Interested In Someone Else: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20291581

Unexpected: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18980332

[rin-bellatrix]

Golden

"You got that look in your eyes, eyes. I can tell you had bad dreams last night. Let me take you in my arms, you can cry, cry. Let me love you 'til you feel alright." - Sia

Rhys and Fiona are faced with the "and there was only one bed" trope, but they're both mature enough to get through this like respectable adults. Rhys plays it cool, lying in bed next to his crush, and falls asleep with her by his side. Everything is fine, until it isn't.

Written for Rhyiona Week 2023 with the prompt "dream/fortune"

Header gif by utopianoverlord 💜

Yellow strobe divider from this post. Yellow star divider from this post. Yellow gradient divider from this post. Yellow heart divider from this post. Yellow reblog and feedback divider from this post.

⚠️ warnings ⚠️: brief description of main character death (don't worry, happy ending guaranteed 😉), as well as some scenes of violence and mentions of slight gore.

Enjoy! 💫

"Don't make it weird, Rhys," said the half clothed vault hunter.

Rhys was trying really hard to not make it weird, but how could he help himself when Fiona appeared at the bedroom door, the light from the hallway shining in from behind her as she flicked the switch for the bedroom lights, plunging the room into dark shadows. Her vault hunting suit and gear were gone, and she looked impossibly gentle and vulnerable in her large t-shirt and bare legs. No hat, of course, and her face was clear of any make-up. She looked... Soft. Which he knew she wasn't, not even in the slightest - but it didn't stop his heart from beating faster.

Strange how she wore less than him, yet he was the one to feel so under-dressed in his t-shirt and pajama bottoms. He was about to share a bed with one of his closest friends and secretly his biggest crush, and he somehow felt that maybe his galaxy themed pants and plain white shirt (with the right sleeve removed) was less than impressive. Though honestly, he'd bet his favorite pair of socks that the slightly older woman couldn't possibly care less about his bedtime attire.

Fiona, the hardened con woman and Pandora native. Fiona, the woman who told a man wielding a knife to her throat that his facial hair was truly depressing. Fiona, who had stood up to a wall of monitors and faced Handsome Jack himself and never so much as batted an eye at his threats. Fiona, who had raced him to the vault, stepped side by side with him inside, and smiled up at him while agreeing that they made a good team. Fiona, fearless vault hunter and a cool badass all around, hesitated in the doorway as she smoothed a hand down her baggy shirt.

She looked unsure and that was something Rhys could never abide by. He pushed himself up to his elbows, ready to leave if she even hinted at it. "I could still go sleep on the couch if that would-"

She waved his words off, scoffing lightly as she finally approached the bed. "I already told you that I was fine sharing the bed with you... As bougie as that couch is, it's designer, so it's more decorative than functional, and therefore not meant to be slept in. Truth be told, I don't wanna hear you whining about your back tomorrow morning."

Her silhouette outlined by the light behind her came closer as she reached for the edge of the covers. She peeled back the corner of the comforter and slid into bed beside him.

'Act cool Rhys, act cool,' he thought as he forced himself to lie down flat on his back and stare at the darkened ceiling. He politely folded his hands over his stomach, doing his best to keep from fidgeting. He hoped she couldn't feel the heat from the blush burning his cheeks. 'Yep, cool as a cucumber.'

A fluffy pillow was placed purposefully beside his left arm, and he looked over to Fiona's side to see her adjusting the pillow she was placing between them.

"This is in case you might feel inclined to wander over to my side during the night. This should keep you in your place and from getting too close."

He raised a brow and then idly wondered if she could even see it in the semi-darkness of the bedroom. "A barricade? Really?"

The Pandoran narrowed her eyes at him, or at least he thought she did. This low light was really hindering reading facial expressions right now. "You forget that I know what you're like when you're sleeping. You might be the president of Atlas, but you're also the president of drool city. Unlike you, I like to stay nice and dry while I sleep."

The president of drool city rolled his eyes, suddenly feeling less nervous about this bed sharing scenario. "Okay, sure. Whatever you say, president of snoring town. You should hear yourself- snork MIMIMIMIMI-"

"At least I don't have to wake up in the middle of the night to rehydrate. How many pillows do you go through a week, Rhys? How does it feel to wake up to a sopping wet pillow-"

"Ooooh, don't get me started! You know, the first time I heard you snore, I thought a hungry baby ratch had somehow gotten into the caravan-"

"Rhys. I will take this pillow and smother you with it if you don't shut up."

"...And on that note, good night." He turned onto his side, back facing the woman in his bed. Their bed? Whatever.

From behind him, he heard Fiona's sigh and the rustle of the sheets as she settled in for the night. After a long quiet moment where the only sound between them was their breathing, a soft "Good night," from her side of the bed made the young CEO smile despite himself.

"Sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs drown in your drool tonight."

Rhys' grin grew at the sound of the smile in her voice. Nothing like engaging in a pointless argument to break the nervous tension between them. "Don't worry, your snoring will scare them away."

A moment passed before a pillow gently thwapped against the side of his head, followed by the sound of exaggerated rustling from the other side of the bed. Fiona tugged on their shared comforter as she tried to get comfortable and he playfully tugged back.

"Quit it," she admonished, her voice wavering with the effort of suppressing her laughter.

"You first," he countered, his glee evident even though he ultimately relented his grip on the covers.

She huffed from somewhere behind him and purposefully shoved the barricade pillow closer against his back, before rolling herself up in more than her fair share of sheets.

Rhys couldn't be happier, and that night he fell asleep with a smile on his face.

The next morning he sat at the marble island in the modern kitchen, sipping on some coffee as he scrolled through his morning news feed. The coffee was ridiculously sweet, just as he preferred, and he couldn't wait for Fiona to wake up so they could start their day together.

He threw together a quick breakfast by cutting open a fresh bagel and slathering some creamed cheese and fruit preserves on both halves. He procrastinated on taking his dishes to the sink, so the empty plate speckled with crumbs and a smear of fruit spread sat next to the serrated knife by his overly sweetened drink.

Reaching for his mug with his mechanical hand, he glanced away from his ECHO device and over to his hand, as it wasn't functioning properly. Instead of reaching for his mug, his hand just sort of froze in place. Tilting his head in concern, Rhys tried flexing his fingers and after a moment, the cybernetic limb did exactly that.

'Hm, maybe a wiring or connection problem. I'll have to check it out before we leave,' he thought, looking over his silver arm and wondering over this peculiar issue.

Purposefully reaching out towards his drink, he felt slight relief as his mechanical arm flexed and stretched out to do exactly what he intended. His metal digits curled around the handle of the cup and lifted it to his mouth. Except that halfway up to his face, his arm froze again.

"Okay, I see that I need to tend to you now," he groused out loud, frowning in consternation at his robotic arm. His ECHO device was set off to the side, and he reached over to try and extract his mug from his immovable grasp. But trying to pry the metal fingers off of the porcelain handle was proving to be impossible.

After a few moments of struggling to free his cup, Rhys withdrew and sat staring down at his right hand with a mixture of deep concern and irritation. At this rate, he'd probably have to wake Fiona up and get her assistance - an extra pair of hands would really help, or at least he hoped so.

Sighing, he moved to slide off the bar stool when his hand suddenly opened and dropped his mug, the cup rolling across the counter top with coffee spilling across the gleaming white surface.

"Shit!" he cried out, thankful that his coffee was almost gone and more warm than hot as it splattered on his clothes.

He moved to jump out of his seat, or he would have, but his mechanical hand was gripping the edge of the counter, keeping him in place. He realized this and tried to remain calm. His cybernetics were malfunctioning and acting in strange ways he didn't permit, which was very, very dangerous. Focusing on trying to unfurl his grasp, Rhys frowned as frustration grew when his hand did not release the counter top.

He had to remove his right arm to preform a maintenance check on it, but he would need Fiona's help to get it off. It could be dangerous, but the sooner his arm was detached, the sooner he could fix the problem. He turned to face the hallway that lead down to the bedroom, parting his lips to call her name.

"Hey there cupcake..."

Stone cold shock froze Rhys in place, dread freezing the air in his lungs. Every muscle was primed to run, to get as far away as he could.

"You really thought it was gonna be that easy...?"

But there was no escaping the voice in his head.

"You tried so hard to get rid of me. But you forgot something very crucial, sweetness. I'm Handsome motherfucking Jack. And you," Rhys' metal grip released the edge of the counter, flying over to meet his other hand, pinning one of his human fingers back until something soft and delicate snapped. The pain was explosive, making Rhys cry out agony. "You're my special little meat puppet. And I'm gonna have so much fun with you."

"Please-" but Jack used Rhys' right hand to bend back another finger on his left, the fragile bone breaking easily under the mechanical pressure. The pain was just as bad the second time around, and Rhys doubled over, hunched over the cool marble before him as the pain flared and nausea roiled in his gut.

"What should I do to you first, hm? How about we start off by taking that little knife there and forcing you to skin your own dick. When we're all done, I think I'll have you cut out your own heart. See, you gotta start by breaking the ribs, then severing each major artery... When I make you pull it out of your chest, it's still gonna be pumping blood. How sick is that?"

"Rhys...?"

Everything in Rhys stilled, including Jack.

'NOnononono, please- please!'

"Hey, you alright? I thought I heard you shout, can't a girl get some rest around here...?"

"Oh Rhysie..."

The vault hunter's voice was soft and her pace unhurried as she padded over to him. She noticed the spilled coffee across the marble, the puddle leaking off the edge closest to him. "Hey, did you burn yourself?" Her words carried more urgency then before, and she reached out to put a hand on his shoulder. "Rhys, I sleep in a bit and somehow you manage to get into trouble, what am I gonna do with you?"

She hurried over to the sink, running the tap before returning to his side with a cold, damp rag. "Here, let me see where you burned yourself. You know I'm never gonna let you live this down, right? Unbelievable," she groused, but there was no heat in her words, only a teasing lilt to cover the underlying concern. "Rhys, come on, sit up, I can't see anything with you curled over like this."

Rhys opened his mouth to tell her to run, to get away, that Jack was here - but what came out were not his words. "Yeah... Got a real bad burn, sorry! Guess I wasn't paying attention."

His body sat upright, his metal hand covering the broken fingers on his left in such a way that it looked casual. He felt his mouth stretch into a forced smile and he hated it, it felt so superficial - it felt like a mask.

'Please don't hurt her- I'll- Look. Listen Jack, okay? I'll do whatever you want, just leave Fiona alone. Please, please don't hurt her, please, I'll do anything, really, I mean it, please-'

"...Rhys?" Fiona was watching him with curious eyes, sensing something was off, but writing it off as pain from a burn. She glanced over him and noticed flecks of coffee over his clothes and his hands folded on his lap, but nowhere could she see where he was injured. "Where did you get burned? I don't see..."

"Remember when I sat, begging you for my life on my knees? And you stood there, staring down at me like I was nothing?"

"Rhys? Hey-"

Rhys continued to smile even as tears raced down his face. 'Fiona...'

"And I promised you that I would make you suffer for daring to betray me. Well I keep my promises, pumpkin."

"Rhys, if it hurts this bad, let me call an ambulance-"

"Poor, sweet Fiona... She'll never see it coming."

Rhys lifted his mechanical hand up to Fiona's worried face, brushing her messy hair back with a feather-light touch. She was still searching his face with worry pinching her brow, because he was still smiling even with tears streaming from his eyes.

"Fiona... This is for Rhys."

The vault hunter had a moment of pure confusion before her throat was seized by the grip of the cybernetic hand. Her eyes flew open as she grabbed at the metal wrist. Jack let Rhys have his face and voice back, and Rhys immediately told her, "There's a knife by my ECHO - use it!"

Her hand immediately scrambled across the counter, but of course Jack wouldn't let her succeed. Using the grip he had on her neck, he threw her down to the tiled floor, puppeting Rhys' body to straddle her struggling one, pinning her down with his weight. He readjusted his grip as she flailed beneath Rhys, trying to buck him off as she struggled to breathe.

"Fiona, hurt me! Do what you can to get me off, don't let him win! Fight me, please!" he cried desperately, watching through his tears as she writhed helpless underneath him.

Jack's laughter rang in the back of his mind as Fiona tried to find a weakness in his arm, anything she could use to disengage Rhys' robotic limb. But her struggles were weakening as Jack squeezed harder, cutting off her air supply.

"Jack please! Anything, I'll do anything!"

"There's only one thing I want you to do, Rhys."

Fiona's eyes were losing focus and her grip on his arm was weakening, her hands falling slack and dropping off.

"I want you to suffer."

With the last of her strength, she mouthed Rhys' name and he could almost hear the final rasp of her voice over his sobbing.

"Rhys... Rhys...?"

Rhys' eyes snapped open and he looked around wildly. He found Fiona leaning close to him, concern on her features and he immediately scuttled away, the need to put distance between them was instinctive and paramount.

He scurried away from her in such a rush that his hand slipped off of an edge and he went tumbling down the side. He hit the floor and the spike of pain that followed helped clear his thoughts as he scrambled back against the curtains of the floor to ceiling windows. With his heart pounding and sweat slick on his body, he glanced around and took in the messy bed and dark room, and Fiona coming around the corner of the bed to watch him with worried eyes.

It was a dream? No, she looked exactly like that when Jack...

Jack.

Rhys looked down at his mechanical arm and quickly went through the process of separating it from his body. When his metal arm disconnected from its main drive, he unhooked it and tossed it away, watching it tumble across the carpet and further into the darkened room. He shuddered, slinging his tattooed arm over his chest and clutching his now empty right shoulder.

Curling into himself and trying to banish the nightmare from his mind (Fiona's terrified face, her frantic grip-), Rhys concentrated on this reality, trying to ground himself to the truth.

The feel of the soft carpet beneath his bare feet, the silky fabric of the curtain that fell around him like a cloak, and the glass window cold at his back through the sleek material.

He felt Fiona settle down on the floor across from him, and he looked up to see her lean back against the side of the bed, her right leg outstretched towards him. She watched him carefully but said nothing, her jade eyes so arresting in the near-dark. Gradually, he relaxed his posture enough to allow himself to straighten out his legs, his right leg taking place alongside hers.

She nudged his calf with her bare foot gently. "Bad dreams?"

After a moment, he nodded, silent. His features taut with the memory of his unconscious visions. The Pandoran regarded him carefully, before sighing softly to break the silence.

"When...I was a little girl, I used to be afraid of rabbits."

The words seemed to come from out of nowhere, and it took the company man a moment to understand what exactly she was saying. He looked up at her in consideration, his arm still slung over his chest as if to console himself.

Fiona continued on.

"Yeah, can you believe it? I saw them as just, so monstrous when I was a kid. They were so fast, fast enough to catch you if you tried to run. And long ears, so they could hear you coming from a mile away. But the worst of all were their teeth - especially these up front." She pointed to her own mouth before she brought her other leg up to hug it, keeping her right leg stationed next to his. "Those teeth could bite through anything, bones and all. I used to..."

Here she scoffed, a look of embarrassed disbelief crossing her features as she looked down and away from his eyes. "I used to think that one day, I would have to protect Sasha from a rabbit - or, God forbid, rabbits - because she was so small. I was small too but she was just this little thing, couldn't even talk yet. Well, not real words anyway, just you know, baby sounds. Anyway. She was this little nugget," Fiona smiled here, lost in the distant memory of when her only sibling was still infantile. "And I thought that a rabbit was just about her size. It could eat her up in just a few bites. One, two, and she'd be gone. I told myself that I'd never let that happen to her, no matter how scared I was of rabbits. I made a vow and everything, even wrote it on some paper or something. Signed my name, or tried to anyway. Probably just a scribbled mess."

The Pandoran waved it away, bringing herself back to the present as she lifted her eyes and met his. "I had nightmares about them for years, even after Sasha was old enough to start conning on her own. But do you wanna know what the funny thing is?"

Rhys nodded, silent, his features no longer set in despair, but not quite himself just yet.

Fiona grinned, her cheeks heating up in embarrassment. "The last of the rabbits died out about a full decade before I was even born. So... There are no rabbits on Pandora. Not any more."

The corner of his mouth kicked up in the beginnings of an incredulous smile, and Fiona snickered at how ridiculous she used to be. She ran a hand through her bedhead, realized how messy it must look, and proceeded to try and smooth it down somewhat. She glanced up at Rhys to catch him watching her with a tender expression, a soft smile on his face.

Fiona was not good at dealing with emotions - her own and especially not anyone else's. But Rhys was her friend, maybe even her best friend... Maybe even more if she let herself examine just how much he meant to her. So as she watched him, taking in the sweat drying on his pale skin and his wavy hair in disarray, she felt her heart break for him and foolishly wished she could take his pain as her own. Instead, all she could do for now was console him as best she could.

"Do you...wanna talk about it?"

He glanced off to the side, avoiding her gaze and remaining non-verbal, and so she took that to mean no. Eventually he dragged his eyes back over to her, before bypassing her and zeroing in on his artificial limb.

"Can you-" His voice was rough, so he cleared his throat and tried again. "Can you get my arm for me?"

She pushed herself up and walked over to his mechanical arm, bending down to pick it up. She was a bit surprised at how heavy it was, then remembered struggling to boost Rhys up and a stray comment from him about his arm contributing to his weight. She stood and made it back to him, lowering herself down by his side. She offered his arm to him when he made no move to take it.

"Turn it over, to the other side."

She figured he was trying to teach her how to reattach his arm, probably because he would have a hard time doing it with one hand. (She didn't ask why he removed it so violently in the first place.) So she turned it over like he suggested, until he told her to stop. His arm sat in her lap, the open connector on his shoulder joint facing up. She could see prongs and recesses, areas where his main body could easily slot into. She never understood his cybernetic enhancements but he seemed happy with them, so she never questioned how it all worked.

"There's a concealed button just under the rim of the shoulder joint, can you see it?"

Fiona peered over the silvery finish of his arm, checking closely around the rim like he said. She found a rectangular piece that was small enough to be easily overlooked. "This?" She pointed at it with a turquoise tipped nail.

"Yeah, remember where that is. Now turn the upper half of the arm again, so the top is facing up."

She twisted the heavy metal in her lap until his arm bent at the elbow and his upper arm was vertical. His lifeless robotic hand was now splayed over her bare thigh, palm cool against her skin, and she was trying very hard to Not Think About It.

"Beneath the largest metal plate, there's a small depression hidden underneath that you should be able to slide your fingers into. Try it."

The vault hunter did as instructed, feeling carefully along the edge of the largest plate, before trying to fit her fingers underneath its edge. After a moment where nothing was giving, she was finally able to press her fingertips inside a set of indentations that seemed like they were meant for fingertips to occupy.

"What do you feel?"

"It's this sort of slot? Like a slot for each individual finger."

"Okay, good. Now keep your fingers in there and press the button you found earlier."

Reaching around with her other hand, Fiona pressed the button and felt very briefly a shift against her fingers. She tilted her head as Rhys said, "Now press and hold the button."

She did as instructed and this time the shift against her fingers held, but she didn't understand the importance to any of this. "Okay, what now? What is the point to all this?"

"I wanted you to know how to take my arm off in case... In case you ever need it. For, whatever reason."

She frowned in confusion as he reached out and took ahold of his cybernetic arm, slotting it against his open connector and quite easily securing his arm back into his shoulder socket.

He held his arm out towards her again. "Try to disarm me."

Fiona wanted to ask questions, but the tight look in his eyes had returned. So she reached around where metal met flesh and found the concealed button on the underside of his arm. She slipped her fingers underneath the plate, pressed and held the button, and gently pulled. The full weight of his mechanical arm disconnected and sat in her hands, once again separate from his body.

Rhys let out a deep sigh, some relief seeming to ease the tension in his face and body. "Good. Good... We'll have to practice some more, to see how fast you can remove it. Just in case."

"Hey, this is interesting and all, but do you think that maybe we can save that for later? It's like four in the morning right now. And you might run on overly sweet coffee but that's not quite the same for me."

"Oh, yeah, uhm-" he blinked rapidly, seeming to come back from wherever his thoughts had taken him. "You're right, you're right, it is pretty late... I'm- I'm sorry..."

"Hey..." Fiona reached out, taking his clammy left hand into her own and giving him a reassuring squeeze. "Nothing to apologize for. But we should get some more rest while we can."

She smiled softly at him, and the gentle expression over her features made him want to reach up and touch her in reverence. But as his mechanical hand neared her face, he flinched, and quickly lowered his hand, withdrawing the other one from her hold. It struck the Pandoran as odd, but she could glean enough from his reactions to have an idea of what his nightmare had included. Deciding that she'd have to be the one to take action, she pushed herself up and offered a hand down to help him up.

He hesitated for a long moment, before gingerly taking her hand in his robotic one. He quickly righted himself and his grip was gone from hers faster than a quick shot, and she tried not to let it affect her feelings.

He reached over and once again detached his right arm, striding across the room to settle it on top of the mostly cluttered desk. Its muted metallic gleam sat above various papers and diagrams, the sleek shape of it acting as an overly expensive paperweight. He turned back to face her, his expression slightly sheepish as he said, "I'll leave it here for a bit, just in case..."

Fiona didn't want to prod him when he was still obviously skittish, so she simply inclined her head and shifted to face the mattress. She began righting the sheets, fluffing the pillows before setting everything back in its place. Without looking back at him, she crawled in under the covers and nestled down on her side of the bed. She stretched and let out an exaggerated yawn as a way to dispel the awkward vibes coming from Rhys.

After a moment, he joined her, slipping under the covers and laying on back, his body stiff with a tension he couldn't shake. Sighing, the vault hunter rolled over onto her back, reaching over the pillow the separated her from her bedfellow, her searching fingers coming into contact with his tattooed forearm. She heard him hold his breath in suspense, but as her seeking touch trailed down his arm, he hesitantly allowed his arm to turn towards her skimming fingertips. She reached the back of his hand, the ridges of his knuckles prominent against the curious touch of her fingers. She shifted her hand and slipped her palm against his, slotting her fingers in the spaces between his own. Instinctively, he clutched at her, holding her hand securely with his.

"Don't you ever mention this to anyone," she spoke into the dark, and though it was a threat of sorts, its severity was lost in the gentle swip of her thumb over the back of his hand.

"Mhmm," he hummed, a tender smile stretching across his face.

"I mean it, Rhys."

"Yeah, I know." He closed his eyes and let himself concentrate on the way her hand fit into his perfectly. He heard her light scoff, and he squeezed her firmly in his grip. She responded by squeezing back.

Rhys allowed himself to push away the remnants of his nightmare, wanting to fully indulge in the comfort Fiona was willing to provide (even if she would deny it in the daylight hours). She kept a snug hold on his hand throughout the night, and her touch was his anchor as sleep eventually took over him again.

When his subconscious shifted and he dreamed again, all he could recall was Fiona's grip on his hand leading him somewhere safe.

©rin-bellatrix 2023

☆ borderlands masterlist ⋆ main masterlist ☆

[rin-bellatrix]

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☆ Rhyiona messy hair don't care

☆ Rhys and Fiona character sheets

☆ Rhys' tattoo reference sheet

☆ Rhyiona week 2021: red and blue/opposites

☆ Rhyiona week 2021: trust and betrayal

☆ Rhyiona week 2021: siren Fiona

☆ Rhyiona week 2021: Fiona Atlas shirt

☆ Rhyiona week 2022: journey

☆ Rhyiona week 2022: role swap

☆ Rhyiona week 2022: Fiona Atlas hoodie

☆ Rhyiona Not Quite (Touching)

☆ BOOKED

☆ protecting my heart and my pussy

☆ Fiona on the ECHOnet

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☆ Rhyiona week 2021: My Religion

☆ Rhyiona week 2022: She's A Pirate

☆ The Law of Love [Jackisha]

☆ It Takes Two [Rhyiona] (part 1/?)

☆☆ U. N. I. [Rhyiona] (part 2/?)

☆☆☆ A Man After Midnight [Rhyiona] (part 3/?)

☆☆☆☆ Santa Baby [Rhyiona] 🔞 (part 4/?)

☆ Smitten [Rhyiona]

☆ Rhyiona week 2023: Golden

☆ Rhyiona week 2023: Some Things Are Meant To Be

☆ Oasis [Saugust]

✨The Rhyiona Core discord group chat is here! Everyone is invited!✨

all works ©rin-bellatrix 2021-2024

☆ main masterlist ☆

[elusivexx]

 ‘Sometimes we don’t notice something until it’s pointed out to us, even when it was right in front of us the whole time.”

I had the biggest smile with this line. 🧡 💙 They’re adorable being all soft and cute to each other. And poor Rhys can’t catch a break in the beginning 😂

Also I was super into the dialogue that I had a double take later on with the constellations names. I reread it and was like

I was like holy shit elsive and daxy????

Rhyiona Week Day Three

Prompt: Celestial

Elevation

'Stop the world it's only you

Oh, my heart is waking

Cause I could be your one and only'

- Heavy by Oh Wonder

“Well, I can fix it,” Ellie drawled. She waddled back a few steps from the open engine compartment of the caravan and deactivated the scanning function on her ECHO device with a click, “But it’ll cost ya.”

“That’s no problem,” Sasha breezily reassured the mechanic. “We just had some repairs done recently, so my sister and I made an arrangement with Scooter.”

“Oh, honey, that explains a lot,“ Ellie chuckled. “You see, Scooter’s a smart boy but he’s not nearly half the greaser I am. Don’t worry, though. I’ll get this sorted for ya. In the meantime, I’m sure we can come to an arrangement of our own.” She turned her attention to Rhys and gave him a wink, “How you doing, Stringbean?” 

He was caught off guard by her sudden shift in focus, offering an awkward nod in reply. Half a step behind, his face flushed as the implication in her interest finally registered.

‘Whoa there, Rhysie!’ a digitized voice shouted in his ear. 

Startled, Rhys yelped, turning quickly towards his former boss’ AI construct. His actions drew the attention of the women standing with him. The sisters gave each other a wary look while Ellie eyed him questioningly, “You okay there, Slim?”

Attempting to regain his composure, Rhys scratched at the back of his head. A sheepish grin curved across his face. “Uh, yeah. I just thought I saw a bug. Like a really big and annoying bug,” he looked directly at the digital figment as he emphasized his words. 

“He’s fine,” Fiona stepped in, dismissing Rhys’ outburst with a wave of her hand. “You know these corporate types. They’re all wound a little too tightly for their own good,” she muttered, subtly swirling her finger next to her temple. 

Rhys pouted at the blatant dig at his mental health. Truth notwithstanding, it irritated him. An easy grin slid into place across the con woman’s face as she effortlessly deflected attention back to the matter at hand, “So, Ellie, about that arrangement…” 

His erratic behavior forgotten, the trio of women quickly fell into negotiations. 

“I think she likes you,” Jack’s projection nodded towards the overweight mechanic and leered at Rhys. “Word of the wise, though, bud,” Despite being immaterial, he feigned placing his hand on Rhys’ shoulder as he lowered his voice conspiratorially, “I’ve heard she’s just like her mother, a real wild one. Rumors get around; let me tell you. Apparently, there was this one poor sap who–”

“Um, uh, it– it looks like you ladies have this well enough in hand,” Addressing the group at large, Rhys rushed to talk over his former boss. “I– I think– I think I’ll just step outside. Maybe get some fresh air.” 

Spinning on his heel, he swiftly exited through the garage’s open bay door. Narrowly focused on ignoring the continued prattling of his unwanted digital companion, he barely registered that nightfall had stolen across the sky, shrouding everything in darkness beyond the bright lights of the garage. 

“And things were getting really hot and heavy when she rolled over on top of him and crushed—” 

At his wits end, he hissed at the AI floating doggedly behind him, mindful of the volume of his tone. “Oh my god, will you shu–” Rounding the corner of the building, he almost ran into Athena. The vault hunter pulled up short, halting in her tracks to avoid a collision.

“A-Athena, hi! Sorry. I– uh, I didn’t see you there,” he scrambled to feign an air of casualness.

“Where are you going in such a rush?” She asked bluntly.

“Um, just for some air,” he answered meekly. “I think the gas fumes are getting to me?” Nerves turned his statement into a question. 

Her eyes narrowed as she studied him. Despite having done nothing wrong, her watchful gaze made him feel two inches tall. 

“Hmmph,” she scowled. “Stay close. The perimeter is secure but there’s a colony of spiderants nearby. Don’t go wandering off or you’re likely to become dinner.” She looked him up and down, as if assessing his quality as a meal. The expression on her face made it plain she’d found him lacking. 

“Will do,” he chuckled nervously, fumbling out a weak salute. 

Having said her peace, she dismissed him with a curt nod and continued on her way.

Shaken by the brief interaction with the vault hunter, Rhys realized he was holding his breath, his shoulders tight with tension. Exhaling shakily, he relaxed slightly. To his relief, Jack had vanished, likely spooked by Athena. 

Grateful for the brief respite from the meglomaniac’s incessant chatter, he rolled his shoulders and surveyed his surroundings. To his left a raised platform of solid concrete abutted the building. Taking the few short steps leading up, he leaned a shoulder against the wall and looked into the distance. Mountains of scrap metal clumped with stripped down car frames ringed around the property, forming a protective barrier against the elements. A scattered metallic gleam shining in the silvery moonlight hinted at the maze of rusted scrap heaps and other assorted detritus that stretched for miles beyond. A breeze kicked up, sending sand skittering over the hard packed ground with a soothing whisper. 

Lulled by this pocket of serenity amid the chaos he had found himself in, Rhys began to fully relax for the first time since they had broken down. He took a seat at the edge of the slab, lowering himself down to let his legs dangle over the ledge. Rubbing the tension from his neck, his eyes naturally gravitated to the heavy moon overhead and the H-shaped satellite suspended in front of its fiery glowing surface. 

A pang of homesickness clutched at his heart. Seeing the Hyperion headquarters from this distance reminded him of all that developed since he’d last stepped foot on the space station. The short time that had transpired felt like a yawning eternity.

To distract himself from the encroaching wistfulness, he looked to the stars instead. Billions of tiny points of light studded the night sky like so many diamonds. Comforted by the vastness of space, he began looking for familiar patterns amongst the heavens. 

“Hey, Hyperion,” a woman’s voice spoke behind him.

Lost in concentration, he startled and jerked to look over his shoulder. Fiona stood on the concrete apron behind him; the light from the half shuttered windows at her back cloaking her in shadows. 

“Damn, does working at that cushy office job really make you this jumpy or is it just a natural state for you?” she teased.

Putting a hand to his chest, he tried to calm his speeding heart. “In my defense, the phrase ‘dog-eat-dog’ isn’t quite so literal up there as it is down here. So, forgive me for being a little on edge.” 

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that,” she dismissed his concern with a gentle scoff. “The things that are likely to eat you around here don’t generally try to get your attention first. At least not the animals.”

He winced at her nonchalant reference to cannibalism; his stomach twisting queasily at the thought. Quick to change the subject, he nodded towards the garage. “So how is it going in there?” he asked. A muted cacophony of tools clanging coupled with an off-key rendition of a country tune filtered out through the window. “Did you guys decide on a price?”

Her shrug was noticeable, even in the gloom that shrouded her. “At first Sasha offered you up for an hour but we managed to talk it down to half that.”

“Me?” A cold finger of dread tracked down Rhys’ spine. He swallowed around the lump that had formed in his throat. “Wh–What?”

“I’m kidding,” Fiona huffed a laugh. “Don’t worry, Hyperion. Your virtue is safe. We agreed on a semi-reasonable amount. For cash. She says it shouldn’t take too long and then we can hit the road again.”

“Good, that’s great. Great– Great news,” he mumbled abashedly.

“So what are you doing out here?” she asked, tipping her head inquisitively. “Waxing nostalgic about crappy breakroom coffee and mounds of paperwork?”

“N–No,” Although he was quick to deny it, the kernel of truth in her question stung. “I was…” he hesitated. He faced front again, embarrassment heating his cheeks. “Nothing. I wasn’t doing anything.”

“Aww, c’mon,” she cajoled goodnaturedly. “You mean to tell me you ran out of there like your pants were on fire just to sit alone in the dark? I don’t buy it.”

“I didn’t run out of there,” he said, quick to defend himself. “And I’m not… Well, okay, yes. I am sitting in the dark.” He sighed resignedly. “Fine. I was… I was stargazing, all right?”

“Stargazing?” She seemed genuinely confused.

“Yes.” His eyes rose once more to the ocean of twinkling lights overhead. “I don’t know. It's just… It relaxes me.”

When no obvious derision was forthcoming, he hazarded a glance her way. Unable to make out her expression, he tried to read her body language. That, however, remained just as inscrutable as her face.

In the absence of a reaction, a looming sense of shame hung heavy in his mind, threatening to overtake him. He turned away and hastily explained, “Sometimes when I was stressed, I would visit the observation rooms on Helios and look at the stars. It helped because it reminded me that I’m just a small part of a much larger existence,” he babbled, the need to elaborate forcing the words out of his mouth mindlessly, “and that made my problems seem smaller. Eventually, I started to recognize the constellations and finding their patterns brings me peace when things get hectic.”

Finally, he trailed off, swallowing the stream of words in order to force himself to shut up. Humiliation burned like a stone in his gut as he waited for her response. His inability to keep his mouth shut had, yet again, left him a flustered mess. Internally, he kicked himself for his innate lack of poise. 

Her continued silence dismayed him more than any taunt. Rhys prayed she would let him off easy, tossing her hands in the air in dismissal and walking away. The scrape of her boots against the concrete was his only alert to her movements. To his profound surprise, she appeared beside him and lowered herself to sit, letting her legs hang over the edge in a position that mirrored his own. From this new angle, the light from the garage shone on the left side of her face. A gentle smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

A memory surfaced, one of her wearing that exact quizzical expression as she commented on his sock’s design way back in Old Haven. The remembrance soothed his ruffled nerves, setting him more at ease.

“Can you show me?” she asked, brushing her fingers through her bangs.

“Show you what?” Dumbstruck by this turn in events, he had forgotten what they had been talking about.

“The constellations,” she clarified. “I only know the one that’s supposed to look like a bucket with a long handle. I can never find it though.” She turned her eyes towards the sky.

“Um, sure. That one’s actually really easy to find,” he said as he pointed it out to her. “It’s so small.”

“Okay, Mr. Know-it-all,” she teased, bumping her boot gently against his. “Well, show me the bigger ones.”

“Hmm.” He searched the night sky for the telltale patterns of a constellation.

“Oh, it’s so easy,” Fiona quipped, mocking him amicably when he wasn’t quick enough.

“Give me a break, okay?” he said, amused. “It looks different from down here. Oh, there!” He pointed out in the distance, his arm extended fully. “There’s Ribella, the Muse.”

“The Muse?” she questioned as her eyes followed his finger.

  “Yeah, all the constellations have stories behind them,” Delighted by the possibility of her interest, he warmed to the topic, gushing as he continued, “Each one is based on a myth, likely derived from other folklore brought here by the early Dahl miners who colonized Pandora. There’s also Sansin, the Goat; Elsive, the Emissary; Daxy, the–”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she laughed, “Slow down. One at a time, okay? Now what am I looking for here?” 

“Right. Uh,” he chuckled nervously, “The overall shape is, well..” He trailed off, struggling to explain the blocky geometric outline that seemed so clear to his own eyes. He gestured ineffectually as he tried to trace the configuration with his hands. “It’s kind of like, um…” Tongue-tied, an idea occurred to him. “Oh, hang on.” 

Activating his palm interface, he navigated his way to a star chart of Pandora’s constellations and made a selection. Ribella’s dot-to-dot celestial formation projected out in brilliant digital blue. Enlarging the image, he attempted to align it as closely as he could to the stars in the sky. 

She scooted closer and leaned into him slightly to get a better view, eyes flicking between the image and the sky beyond. He tensed momentarily, uncertain how to react with her so near. Pointedly ignoring the heat of her body as she crowded into his space, he, instead, focused on tracing the imaginary connection between the stars' alignment with his free hand. 

“See?” he asked. “If you can find these two stars first, the rest follow along.” Once he was certain she had the formation, he turned off the interface and lowered his arm.

She spotted it quickly, her eyes widening in surprise and recognition. A elated grin spread across her face as she looked to Rhys, wonder shining in her gaze. His heart skipped a beat, a warm rush of satisfaction washing over him. 

“It’s funny, ” she said, settling back. “I’ve lived on this planet my whole life and I never thought about the stars before.” 

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, “Sometimes we don’t notice something until it’s pointed out to us, even when it was right in front of us the whole time.”

A companionable silence lengthened between them as they both drank in the tranquility of the evening. 

“You’re right, you know,” she murmured. 

“I am?” Surprise lifted his brows. “About what?” 

“It is relaxing.” 

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he glanced her way. Admittedly, he was intrigued by this glimpse of the gentler side that had remained hidden under her oft times cavalier attitude towards him. With her attention trained on the heavens above, he took the opportunity to examine her. 

Even in the dim moonlight, her beauty was unquestionable. He found himself mesmerized by the reality of her: from the soft slope of her nose, to the graceful curve of her jaw, and down the elegant line of her neck. Fluttering in the breeze, the feathered tip of the scarlet streak in her hair danced against her cheek. An overwhelming urge to brush it aside flooded his senses. His hand flexed with the desire to touch her, to trace a finger along the smooth surface of her skin, to caress the pillowy softness of her full lips. 

Sensing his stare, she looked at him. He flushed, self consciousness heating his cheeks. An apology sat on the tip of his tongue, about to be voiced, when the return of that quizzical smile silenced him. Snared by the soft look in her eye, he was unable to tear his gaze from hers. Despite the resplendent expanse of space filling the night sky overhead, she was the most breathtaking thing he’d ever seen. 

Something intangible shifted within him at that moment. An enigmatic notion unfolded in the back of his mind. However undefinable, the potential of its intensity flickered across his thoughts, frightening him more than any external threat he’d faced yet. Despite his fear, he was powerless to the effect it had on him. An incandescent lightness enveloped his hammering heart. The unfamiliar sensation was almost as painful as it was intoxicating. 

“Rhys?” Butterflies awakened in his stomach at the soft sound of his name from her lips.

“Hey, you two,” Sasha called out from behind them, shattering the expectant calm. Poking her head out of the window, she slapped the side of the building to further get their attention. “We’re all set. Let’s roll.” 

“B-be right there,” Rhys choked out. His response was unnecessary, however. Just as suddenly as she had appeared, the younger woman had popped back out of sight. He was quick to gain his feet. Self consciousness prickled at the back of his neck. He rubbed at the spot, trying to soothe his frenzied nerves. 

“Uh,” he cleared his throat, scrambling to gather his wits. ”Guess we better get going.” 

Strangely quiet, Fiona stood up and brushed at her jacket. “Yeah, um, just give me a minute.”

“S-sure.”

Jittery with some unusual sense of excitement, he stepped away. His thoughts worried at the new bizarre insight that had settled in the back of his mind like a pebble in his shoe. Stopping at the edge of the building, he looked over his shoulder to check on Fiona. Her back was to him, her head tilted up with her face to the sky. The strange ache that had taken up residence in his chest tugged pleasantly as he turned the corner into the bright lights of the garage. 

[rin-bellatrix]

Rhyiona Week 2023 Day Four

Prompt: Temptation

In the Small Hours

Like a devil on my shoulder you keep whispering in my ear

And it's gettin' hard for me to do the right thing here

I wanna do the right thing, baby

- You Should Probably Leave by Chris Stapleton

Beep, Beep, Beep!

Distantly, Rhys registered the sound of his morning alarm chiming. Fighting his way to wakefulness, he automatically turned toward the holographic clock emitting from the surface of the nightstand and dismissed the alert with a swipe. His head hit the pillow once more with a muted thump. Although sleep beckoned invitingly, he knew he had to get started on the day. He rubbed his hand across his face and pushed himself up to seated, trying to shake the last vestiges of rest from his slumberous mind. 

Glancing over, he saw through the soft shadows of neon light glowing from the window that the alarm hadn’t roused his companion. Still sleeping peacefully, Fiona’s eyes remained closed tightly. Her deep, steady breath whistled through her slightly parted lips. A scarlet lock of hair lay across her cheek, inviting Rhys to brush it aside. His caress was tender as he tucked the stray strands in line. These were the moments he treasured dearly, when she was not only her most vulnerable, but completely at peace. His heart brimming with drowsy adoration, he leaned over and planted a kiss to her cheek. She mumbled softly in her sleep; a wordless noise of protest or acknowledgement, of which he wasn’t quite sure.

Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, his feet automatically found their home in his favorite well worn slippers. A yawn overtook him, followed by a stretch. Arms reaching overhead, his back arched.

“Rhys?” A sleepy voice spoke his name behind him.

Glancing over his shoulder at her, he smiled at the charming sight of her blinking up at him. “Hey,” he whispered. “Good morning. Sorry if I woke you.” 

“Ugh, what time is it?” Never much of an early riser, she rubbed at her eyes before looking to the window. “It’s still dark out?” 

“It’s early,” he replied with a grin. “Go back to sleep.” 

She gave a disgruntled huff. Expecting her to turn over and fall back to sleep, he opened the digital interface of his mechanical palm and began reviewing his schedule for the day. He sighed as he scratched at the back of his head. It was going to be a long day. Mentally plotting out his approach for the task of so many sequential meetings, he barely acknowledged the small hand  that rubbed against his bare back and up along a length of his spine. Soon, the hand was joined by its twin. 

“You’re nice and warm,” she mumbled. 

He felt the bed shift under her weight as she scooted closer. She pressed into him from behind, her knees bumping into his tailbone. Her hands slid up the muscles of his back, coming to rest at his shoulders.

“Whatcha looking at?” she murmured over his shoulder. 

“My schedule,” he replied, absentmindedly. 

“Hmm, busy, busy, busy,” she hummed as her left hand slipped down his bicep. 

“Well, it comes with the–” he trailed off, his entire train of thought fizzling out in the wake of the heated kiss she pressed to his shoulder. 

Awareness of her amorous intentions flooded his body with heat. Her left hand continued its lazy journey down the back of his arm and slipped effortlessly under it, her fingers splayed against his ribs as she made her way towards his chest. Electricity danced across his skin, awakening his nerves.

All the while, she kissed along his shoulder, her lips leaving sweet lingering love bites. Her right hand slid up into his hair and took the short locks in a loose grip. Lost in the sensation of her attention, his eyes fluttered closed as he momentarily surrendered to the pleasure. Her kisses coming up to his neck, she gave his hair a gentle tug, coaxing him to bare his throat for her. 

“Fi,” he breathed her name. Even as he obliged her seductive urging, he knew he shouldn’t give in. He really had no time to spare today. 

She acknowledged him with a nibble at the sweet spot where his neck met his shoulder.

I can’t. I really shouldn’t. I have too much to do this morning. 

She took his earlobe between her teeth and gave it a harmless tug. The litany of excuses grew quieter as his will weakened further.

Trying to gather his wits, he grabbed her left wrist, halting her progress as she smoothed her fingers across his chest. “Fi,” he swallowed, trying to quench his parched throat. “I really need to get up.” 

Her laugh was soft as it fluttered against his neck. “Well, Mr. CEO, it seems to me you already are.” 

As she spoke, she ignored his hold on her wrist, instead trailing her fingers down his abdomen until the tips of her fingers played under the elastic band of his pajama pants. His cheeks flushed as he realized her double entendre.

He stifled a low groan as she moved lower. 

“Stay with me,” she whispered in his ear. “Five more minutes, I swear.” 

Despite recognizing it for the lie it was, he was powerless to resist her. Swiftly, he tugged her wrist as he shifted on the bed, gracefully pulling her into his lap. Her breathy laugh was cut short when his hand slipped under the thin cotton of her t-shirt, finding the smooth warmth of her skin beneath. 

“Okay,” he capitulated. Their noses bumped in the dark before they found the perfect angle. He captured her lips in a hasty, heated kiss. “But we have to be quick.”

[elusivexx]

Rhyiona Week 2023 Day One

Prompt: Dream

Stars Fading

Stars fading but I linger on, dear Still craving your kiss

- Dream a Little Dream of Me

“Fi?” Her sister’s voice quietly prodded Fiona awake. “Wake up. It’s your turn to drive.” 

Slowly awakening from her slumber, Fiona blinked the sleep from her eyes as Sasha gently shook her shoulder. Yawning, she sat up and waved her sister away. 

“You good?” Sasha asked, brows raised. “You were pretty out of it. Twitching and mumbling.”

“Hmm? Yeah,” Fiona replied, stretching as she got to her feet. “Just having a weird dream.” 

Earlier, the steady hum of the caravan in motion had quickly lulled her to sleep. While she dozed, she had fallen deeply into a dream. However, upon waking, she was left with only the vague memories of half formed images as to the events that had taken place. Now a haunting impression of the warmth and intimacy that had permeated her rest lingered in her mind like smoke. The undefinable, but nevertheless gnawing desire to feel the return of that sanctuary she had briefly experienced echoed through her. 

“As long as you’re awake enough to make sure we don’t run into anything,”  Sasha spoke, pulling Fiona’s attention back to the present, “I’d say it’s best if you give Rhys a break. He’s trying to pretend like he’s not exhausted but with all the swerving he’s been doing…” Sasha shrugged. 

“I’m on it.” 

Fiona stepped around the little table that sat in front of the caravan’s couch where she had been resting. Glancing over, she saw poor Vaughn was still frozen in paralysis. They had tried to make him as comfortable as possible, placing his stiff form onto couch cushions, but there was little else they could do. 

Eyes closed and arms crossed, Athena leaned against the rear wall beside the ladder leading to the roof hatch. It astounded Fiona that not only could the older woman sleep standing up, but that she was steady enough to do so in a moving vehicle. 

“I’m gonna check on the bots up top,” Sasha said, pointing a finger to the roof. “Make sure they haven’t blown away.” She flashed a grin before turning to the ladder. Careful not to disturb the slumbering vault hunter, she climbed up and disappeared from sight. 

With one final jaw-popping yawn, Fiona made her way in the opposite direction, towards the front of the wagon. Rhys turned at the sound of her boots scraping against the short steps that lead up to the raised driver’s area.

“Hey,” he said softly with a sleepy half smile. 

Bizarrely, something squeezed in her chest as she nodded a greeting. The unusual echo that lingered from her dream seemed to grow stronger in the moment their eyes briefly met before his attention returned to the task of driving. Caught off guard by the potency of that mysteriously continuing sensation, she brushed her fingers through her bangs and regarded him quietly. As Sasha had mentioned, he must be exhausted; the dark circles under his heavy lidded eyes and the large yawn he tried to stifle behind his mechanical hand confirming it.

“Come to keep me company?” he asked, glancing at her over his shoulder, a strange gleam in his tired eyes.

“As if.” She was quick to scoff at the notion, despite the butterflies that blossomed in her stomach at his hopeful tone. “I’m kicking you out. We’re getting complaints about the ride. Apparently, it’s not as smooth as expected. I’m replacing you.”

“Are you accusing me of being a bad driver?” His tone was full of false shock. “Unbelievable.”

“Not a bad one,” she corrected, tilting her head as she gave him a soft smirk. “Just a tired one. C’mon. Go get some rest.” 

“Ah, all right,” he relented, huffing out a sigh. “If you insist.” 

She stepped closer, putting one hand on the wheel. He unfolded his lanky body from the driver’s seat and edged around her. For the briefest of moments, the pair brushed by each other. Despite sharing the same space for less than a breath of a second, it was still long enough to awaken a lost memory from her dream. 

Although unclear as to the circumstances, Fiona remembered the whisper of his touch against her body and overwhelming sense of security that had flooded her. Shaken by the recollection, she plopped into the driver’s seat unceremoniously, her butt hitting the cracked leather with a plop. 

“You okay?” Rhys asked, “I didn’t trip you, did I? Curse of these long legs,” he muttered jokingly. 

“Uh, no. No, I’m fine,” she reassured him. “Just, uh, lost my balance for a second.” 

As she readjusted herself, she turned to concentrate on the landscape that whizzed by through the windshield, and tried to push the memory of that lingering dream away. 

Beneath her, residual body heat radiated from the seat, warming her along her back and behind. She squirmed, desperately attempting not to dwell on the idea that it was his body that had generated this heat.  Almost as if somehow he knew of her discomfort and was taunting her, he began to stretch nearby, much to her silent dismay. Irritated at her own internal reaction, she pointedly tried to ignore him but that little annoying ache still persisted within her. The temptation proved too much. 

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. The long line of his body, the arch of his back as he reached up towards the ceiling overhead, completely pulled her focus from the road, causing her hands to follow her eyes. The caravan began to swerve to the left. Quickly, she caught herself and corrected the wheel. 

Thankfully, no one, especially Rhys, had seemed to notice. Shaking her head to clear her obviously still sleep-addled brain, she cursed herself for getting distracted so easily.

Beside her, he finally finished stretching with a soft little grunt that set Fiona’s teeth on edge. Reaching the top of the short steps, he stopped. 

“Fi?” 

The sound of her name spoken in his hushed tone sent a zip along her spine. Poker face firmly intact despite the maelstrom of emotions that plagued her, she glanced his way. 

He gave her a friendly little salute, “Thanks.”

Despite herself, she was charmed. The tension that bunched across her shoulders melted as she realized how ridiculous she was being, letting a stupid, fleeting dream get the better of her. She acknowledged his gratitude with a half smile. 

“Sleep well, Hyperion. And, uh,” her cheeks warmed as she uttered, “sweet dreams.” 

[elusivexx]

Fiona when rhys inevitably returns to her:

This reminds me of that one ep of once upon a time where prince charming had to confront a siren snow white. Now I wanna draw what nymph Fiona would look like 😭🧡🧡

Rhyiona Week 2023 Day Five

Prompt: Legend

Cross My Heart

You, I can make you love me

Even when I take it all -- Always by Great Good Fine OK

He’d heard the stories. They echoed in his ears, even now, as he delved deeper into the woods. According to the tales Rhys had known most of his life, somewhere deep in this forest lay a spring, a wonder to behold and rumored to be the home of a nymph. It was said that kings and paupers alike used to visit the sacred site, offering any and all for a single boon.

Now, he was making the journey. 

Lost in thought, he fingered the patch over his left eye idly. He prayed that the stories were true. He had spent the last of his meager savings in an effort to track down this legend. Pulling his compass from the pocket of his doublet, he confirmed he was still headed in the correct direction. A short time later, he came upon his destination. 

Nature had reclaimed the marble columns that arched majestically around the perimeter of the little clearing, draping the solid white stone with choking green vines. Stepping around a toppled-over pillar, he surveyed the area. Bathed in sunlight streaming in from a break in the dense tree canopy overhead, the spring was an oasis of natural beauty. Patches of scarlet wild flowers dotted the thick carpet of grass underfoot, even sprouting in the cracks between the moss spotted boulders that lined the cerulean waters of the spring.

“Hello?” He called out, not truly expecting an answer. None came. 

Sliding his pack from his shoulder, he crouched to dig inside the leather bag. From it, he withdrew the items necessary to complete the summoning ritual. 

Atop the flat surface of one of the rocks, he laid out the assortment: a small sachet, a pair of old coins, and a scrap of paper. With trembling fingers, he untied the knot that held the sachet closed. Spreading the leather out, a grim menagerie of objects were disclosed. He flinched at the sight of the tiny bird skull amid the dried herbs, fine powdery ash, and other small bones he hoped were of animal origin. Carefully, he placed the two coins on top, mindful the king’s bust faced downward as the witch that had set him on this path had strictly instructed.

He pulled his dirk from the sheath at his hip. Taking a deep shuddering breath, he steadied himself before slicing into his palm. He winced as the sharp edge of the blade bit into his skin with ease and hot, red blood welled quickly. His dripping hand hovering above the coins, he recited the words scrawled on the paper. 

The ritual complete, he looked around expectantly, but found he remained alone. With a defeated sigh, he shook the excess blood from his wound and leaned forward to rinse it off in the waters below. 

I should have known better, he admonished himself. Only a fool would go off chasing fairy tales. 

As he dipped his hand into the cool liquid, something wrapped around his wrist. Shocked, a startled sound escaped him and he tried to withdraw, taking whatever it was with him. 

Encircling his wrist was a delicate hand, slender feminine fingers with nails tipped in turquoise color. Unbelieving of his own eyes, he watched dumbstruck as a woman emerged gracefully from the depths of the spring. Water streamed down her body, splashing back into the pool with a melodious chime. Half submerged, she was a vision unlike anything he’d ever seen before.

Clothed in a swath of damp fabric, it draped artfully along her curves. Her bare skin shimmered, the water droplets clinging to her reflecting the sunlight. Long russet-colored hair lay over one shoulder, shot through with a fiery red streak of a similar shade to the wildflowers that grew nearby. Sparkling emerald eyes gazed at him. 

“My, my,” she spoke. “What do we have here?” 

She took in the bloodied display of items still laid neatly atop the rock. Her eyes met his once more and she raised a scarred brow. A soft smirk graced her ruby lips. Her voice was like music as she said, “This is some old magic for such a young thing like you.” 

“I– I–” he struggled to formulate a response. His mouth opened and closed as his brain stalled. “I came to see you,” he blurted.

A gentle tinkle of laughter escaped her as her smirk melted into a genuine smile. “Oh, sweetling. If you wanted me this badly, all you had to do was call upon me. Aww,” she cooed, her attention turning to the open wound sliced across his palm, ”Now you’ve gone and hurt yourself.” 

Belatedly, Rhys realized she still held his wrist in her grasp. He watched as she raised his hand to her lips and planted a soft kiss to his cut. When their eyes met again, his heart skipped a beat. Transfixed by her emerald gaze, time spun out, a moment stretching into eons. Distantly he was aware of a tingling sensation that zipped along his wound and up his arm. Tearing himself away from her bewitching stare, he withdrew his hand from her gentle grip, took a step back, and glanced down to see his cut had fully healed. A faint thin seam of a scar was the only indication it had been there at all. 

“Now, seeing as how you’ve gone to so much trouble to summon me,” she came forward and leaned against the rocks lining the edge of the pool. Propping herself up against the flat ledge of a boulder, she rested her chin in her palm and looked up at him with expectant amusement, “What brings you here?” 

“Uh, Um, of course,” he shook his head in an attempt to straighten his scattered thoughts. “M– M’lady, I, um, wanted— If it pleases you–” Out of his element, he stuttered over his words, “ I-I’ve heard tales of your generosity and I seek to implore upon your benevolence.” 

“Ah, but it has been quite some time since anyone has come to beseech me,” she said brightly. “Tell me. What can I do for you?”

Nervous, Rhys cleared his throat before explaining, “There is a maiden in my town. She has come of marriageable age. I seek to ask for her hand, but her father is a wealthy man. A merchant tradesmen of some repute. I fear he would not be impressed by my meager offerings, if I were to approach him now. Hence, I’ve traveled here to…” he trailed off, apprehension gnawing at his insides. Speaking his words out loud, he realized how fatuous it sounded. 

“You’ve come to me,” she filled in, “in hopes of a significant boon that might sway this man to see you as a choice candidate for his daughter's hand. But is this a question of love,” she asked, tilting her head inquisitively. “Do you care for this maiden?” 

“I’m not certain I understand,” he flushed at the inquiry, unsure as to how to answer. “What difference does it make?”

Her lips twisted into a strange smile. The expression vanished as quickly as it had appeared. She shrugged, “Truthfully, it matters not. I am just a curious creature.” A knowing look settled upon her graceful features. ”But no doubt this betrothal would benefit you greatly, with more than just a pretty wife?” 

“Y-Yes, my lady,” he admitted reluctantly. “If I were to succeed in this advantageous match, my limited prospects in life would broaden, that is true. So will you help me?” 

She was silent for a moment as she mulled it over. Her eyes narrowed as she searched his face. 

“Wait here,” she bade him before disappearing under the surface of the water. Left alone, he nervously awaited her return. 

She resurfaced once more, putting forth a cupped palm. Nestled in her hand was the largest pearl Rhys had laid eyes upon. Black in color, it shone with a hypnotizing iridescence.

“This should serve to impress your maiden’s father,” she said with a smirk.

Rhys nodded mindlessly as he reached out to take the shimmering pearl.

“Ah, ah,” she admonished, closing her fingers and pulling away. “If you’ve heard tales told of me, you will know that I don’t offer anything out of the goodness of my heart. What do you propose to exchange for this courtesy?”

“Of course, my lady. My apologies.” 

He hastily patted at his pockets before remembering the pack at his feet. He bent to it and withdrew a small velvet pouch. Loosening the drawstring, he unfolded the cloth to reveal a delicate filigreed hair comb of fine wire, studded with small sparkling stones. 

“This was my late grandmother’s,” he explained. “Although not valuable in coin, it is of great sentimental worth to me. It is all I have to offer.” 

“Hmm,” she pondered, her eyes on the comb. Anticipation quickened the drum of his heart. “Yes, I believe this will suffice.”

Relief washed over him, immediately followed by a heady sense of excitement. They exchanged their goods; Rhys taking the pearl into the velvet sachet recently vacated by his grandmother’s comb. Wrapping it up, he tucked the treasure into his pack.

“Thank you, my lady,” he nodded respectfully, desperately trying to keep his excitement hidden under the veneer of manners.

“The pleasure was mine,” she said, “And please, call me Fiona.” 

“I’m honored to have met you… Fiona.”

“And what, pray tell, is your name, most intrepid sir,” she asked, a chuckle in her tone.

“Rhys, uh, my name is Rhys.” 

“Ah, Rhys," she smiled beatifically, her face lighting as she spoke his name out loud, “That’s lovely. Well, I wish you good fortune with your impending engagement.” 

With a wave of her hand, she slipped soundlessly beneath the surface of the water once more. 

()()()

Stumbling through the underbrush, Rhys panted as he came upon the spring. 

“Fiona!” he bellowed the nymph’s name angrily. Despite the week’s span that had unfolded since his disgrace, the bitterness was still fresh. Every step he’d taken on his journey back to this oasis further reminded him of the rube he was and the rebuff he had suffered.  

He called out once more, his hands at fists by his sides. 

“Well, hello again, Rhys.” In the space of a blink, she pushed up from the watery depths,  appearing even more captivating than he remembered. “I can’t say I expected–”

“You played me for a fool,” he interrupted her. Pulling the small leather satchel from his pocket, he opened it. Inside, the great shining pearl he’d so admired had transformed into a damp, shiny brown lump. He cast aside the offending mass against the rocks of her pool, where the thick clump of wet mud splattered along the side of a boulder. 

“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded. “Do you realize what you’ve done?”

“I suppose the proposal didn’t quite go as planned.” Amusement danced in her eyes. 

“I was humiliated. Alyssandra’s father laughed in my face when I asked for her hand.” Defeat rounded his shoulders. “She’s– she’s been betrothed to another.” 

“Alas, it was for the best, I imagine. You didn’t want to marry that girl,” she stated matter-of-factly ”No matter the advantages such a match might have presented, I saved you from a lifetime of boredom."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed resignedly. His anger ebbed away in the face of the truth. As much as he was loath to admit it, she was right. The memory of the half hour he’d spent in the company of the dull-witted young woman he’d so bent on marrying haunted him. 

“I suppose you want me to thank you, then,” he said sarcastically. “For your good deed?” 

An imperious smirk graced the nymph’s beautiful face. “A little gratitude would be welcomed.”

Unable to contain his exasperation, he rolled his eyes. “I’ve returned to retrieve my grandmother’s comb. Let’s have it.”

“No,” she flatly refused. Her hand reached up to the comb nestled in her hair behind her ear, fingers tracing the little glass stones tenderly. “The deal was struck. You received your boon. It matters not if you were unsatisfied after the fact. I, on the other hand, am quite pleased with our trade.” 

“But you tricked me!” he snapped, irritation spiking once more. 

“That’s a harsh way to put it,” she admonished playfully. “In the end, our trade was a barter for objects of equal value. I was merely less forthcoming as to the quality of my item as you were of yours.”  

“Fine,” he scoffed, outmatched. Frustrated at her arrogance, he threw his hands up and turned to leave.

“Rhys, wait,” she called out, causing him to hesitate. “I’m not completely heartless. Since you’ve come all this way, perhaps we can broker another exchange. Perchance for something more appealing than some silly girl’s favor or a worthless trinket?”

Everything within him screamed that he should continue on his way and forget this place even existed. But he found himself turning to face her once more. 

“What could you possibly have to offer me after all this,” he implored wearily, gesturing to the muddied rock. 

“Your eye.”

Instinctively, he reached up, his fingers brushing against the smooth leather of his patch. Her unexpected overture gave him pause. 

“How can I be assured that you won’t trick me again?”

“You can’t,” she stated plainly, “You’ll just have to trust me. But what have you got to lose?”

He was silent for a moment as he pondered that fact. Finally, he asked, “What would you want in exchange?” 

“Ah, therein lies the real question, my dear,” her head tipped as she lifted a brow. “What can you offer me?” 

He raised his hands in surrender, “Alas, I have nothing of any importance to give. As you know, I am a poor man, in coin and title.” 

“I don’t want your coin, boy,” she scoffed, “What good would coin do me, out here in these wilds?” She extended her arms to take in the expanse of forest that surrounded them. “No,” she shook her head as that honeyed smile quirked her lips once more. “I want something you haven’t given another soul.” 

Despite himself, his curiosity stirred, tempered by a fair amount of caution. “And what, pray tell, could that be?”

“All in due time,” she laughed merrily. “First, that eye of yours.” 

She dove beneath the surface of the pool. Rhys waited, his anxiety telling him to turn tail and run. Before he could heed his better judgment, however, she resurfaced. In her hand, she held a small clay salve pot. She tossed it to him and he caught it. 

“Apply that to your eye every night before sleep. It will give you wicked dreams but by the time the salve is gone, you will have sight in your eye once more.” 

“Th–Thank you,” he said, hesitantly as he tucked the little pot in his pocket. “Now, what do you want in return?”

“Come closer,” she beckoned.

She glided up to the rocky perimeter of the spring and leaned out over the flat surface of a boulder. From her perch, he could glimpse translucent patches of iridescent scales that shimmered in the sunlight along her skin, revealing her true nature. Confronted with this reminder that he was dealing with no ordinary woman, his eyes narrowed as he held his ground.

“Come, come,” she urged him forward, curling a finger at him.

Cautiously, he stepped closer to the edge of the pool. Still she beckoned him lower, until finally he dropped to one knee before her. Now, face to face, her eyes sparkled mesmerizingly. The sweet smile on her lips soothed his wild nerves.

“What is it that you require in return?” he asked again softly. 

“Just a kiss,” she replied, the very picture of enchanting innocence. 

Confused, his brows pulled together for a moment. “But I thought you desired something I had never given another,” he reminded her. 

“I do.”

Amusement suffused him and he smiled. “This may surprise you, my lady, but I have given a kiss before.”

“I have no doubt as to your prowess with fair maidens,” she said sardonically, “but a kiss is what I require.” 

Puzzled by her request, he searched her expression for any hint of subterfuge. She gazed back at him guilelessly. 

Finally, he conceded, “As you wish, my lady.” 

He leaned forward slowly. As the space between them shortened, he watched her intently, wary of any treachery. With none forthcoming, he proceeded to press a soft, chaste kiss to her lips. He was withdrawing quickly when she grabbed a handful of the front of his doublet, halting his progress. 

“Hmm,” she hummed skeptically. A wicked gleam shone in her gaze. “I think we can do better than that.” 

Before he could react, she pulled him in again. His eyes widened as she kissed him fully. Her lips were cold against his, a sensation he hadn’t registered on that initial contact. She brought her other hand to his cheek, the chill making him gasp in shock. In great contrast, her tongue was hot as it slipped into his mouth, a warm, slick caress that shook him to his core. 

Instantly bewitched, he was completely at her mercy. His eyes drifted closed as he yielded to her. Sensing his surrender, she retreated and nipped at his lower lip. The unexpected scrape of her teeth against that sensitive surface drew a hushed grunt of pleasure and surprise from him. Quickly, she ran her tongue over the nibble, soothing as well as coaxing him to meet her advancement. Enticed, he obeyed, uniting with her once more in a velvety harmony that set his blood aflame. With every thunderous heartbeat, he succumbed even further to the torrid, wet magic of her kiss. It was true, he had been kissed before, but the memories of those hasty or hesitant exchanges melted away in the feverishness of this connection. 

When she finally relented, he found himself panting for air like a drowning man. Still holding him close, she pressed her forehead to his and laughed breathlessly. “I’d say that’s a good start.” 

“For–for what?” he asked, his thoughts still scattered. 

“Oh, my dear sweet Rhys,” she purred his name, causing the hair on the nape of his neck to stand. “You see, this kiss wasn’t my payment. At least, not in full.” She looked him deeply in the eyes as her thumb brushed against his lips. Her other hand unclenched from his doublet, her palm spreading flat against his chest. “For your end of the bargain, you have to give me your heart.” 

“My-My what?” Crashing back to his senses, he was horrified. Quickly, he pulled away from her. In his haste,  he lost his balance, landing on his rear with a thud. Gaining his feet, he stumbled away, trying to put distance between them. 

“Don’t be so alarmed, sweet one,” she chuckled. “I speak only figuratively. I intend you no harm.”

“Wha–” he scrambled to understand, “What is the meaning of this?” 

She shrugged as she smiled that wicked grin, merriment shining in her eyes. “A goddess is only as powerful as when she is worshiped, Rhys. And it hurts to be forgotten. This ensures you’ll never forget me.” 

“ But– But how does one kiss equal my heart?” he demanded. 

“As I said, darling, it’s a start.”

Pushing away from the rocks and into the water, she lengthened herself out to float along the surface of her pool. Arms lazily stroking through the clear blue waters, she was the embodiment of carefree elegance. 

Head tipped back, she looked to the sky as she continued, “Soon, you will find I am always in the back of your mind. Your body will ache for my touch, your lips will yearn for my kiss. No matter where you go, you will long to return to me.” 

“Folly,” he spit out the word. Rekindled anger burned hot in his stomach. “I don’t know what your aim is, but I can assure you I have no intention of ever setting foot in these woods again.” 

Resolute in his conviction, he spun on his heel. 

“You’ll be back,” she sang out behind him. Her delighted laughter sounded musically in the air. 

Outraged, he rushed headlong into the surrounding forest. He rubbed the rear of his hand against his mouth in a vain attempt to scrub the events that had just unfolded away as he tried to reject the notion of her words from his thoughts. 

There was no truth to her proposition, he reassured himself. It’s all just the mad contrivances of a nefarious sprite bent on toying with me.

Even as he repeated the conviction endlessly, a seed of dissent blossomed in the back of his mind. The remembered warmth of her kiss burned like a fire across his nerves, the heady rush of her tongue as it tangled with his own lingered. Hopelessly vexed, he desperately pushed down the bittersweet memory of her lips against his and hurried on his way.

[admiralsweko]

Oh my goodness, El!! Thank you!! 😍😍😍😍

Words cannot properly express how delighted I am to read these comments! You honor me. I am so humbled. ☺️☺️

I'm so happy you caught my little Easter Eggs.😆😆😆 I wanted to have a secret shout-out to some of my fave contributors to the Rhyiona fandom. You guys are the stars that stud my Rhyiona sky. Literally! 🤭

Rhyiona Week Day Three

Prompt: Celestial

Elevation

'Stop the world it's only you

Oh, my heart is waking

Cause I could be your one and only'

- Heavy by Oh Wonder

“Well, I can fix it,” Ellie drawled. She waddled back a few steps from the open engine compartment of the caravan and deactivated the scanning function on her ECHO device with a click, “But it’ll cost ya.”

“That’s no problem,” Sasha breezily reassured the mechanic. “We just had some repairs done recently, so my sister and I made an arrangement with Scooter.”

“Oh, honey, that explains a lot,“ Ellie chuckled. “You see, Scooter’s a smart boy but he’s not nearly half the greaser I am. Don’t worry, though. I’ll get this sorted for ya. In the meantime, I’m sure we can come to an arrangement of our own.” She turned her attention to Rhys and gave him a wink, “How you doing, Stringbean?” 

He was caught off guard by her sudden shift in focus, offering an awkward nod in reply. Half a step behind, his face flushed as the implication in her interest finally registered.

‘Whoa there, Rhysie!’ a digitized voice shouted in his ear. 

Startled, Rhys yelped, turning quickly towards his former boss’ AI construct. His actions drew the attention of the women standing with him. The sisters gave each other a wary look while Ellie eyed him questioningly, “You okay there, Slim?”

Attempting to regain his composure, Rhys scratched at the back of his head. A sheepish grin curved across his face. “Uh, yeah. I just thought I saw a bug. Like a really big and annoying bug,” he looked directly at the digital figment as he emphasized his words. 

“He’s fine,” Fiona stepped in, dismissing Rhys’ outburst with a wave of her hand. “You know these corporate types. They’re all wound a little too tightly for their own good,” she muttered, subtly swirling her finger next to her temple. 

Rhys pouted at the blatant dig at his mental health. Truth notwithstanding, it irritated him. An easy grin slid into place across the con woman’s face as she effortlessly deflected attention back to the matter at hand, “So, Ellie, about that arrangement…” 

His erratic behavior forgotten, the trio of women quickly fell into negotiations. 

“I think she likes you,” Jack’s projection nodded towards the overweight mechanic and leered at Rhys. “Word of the wise, though, bud,” Despite being immaterial, he feigned placing his hand on Rhys’ shoulder as he lowered his voice conspiratorially, “I’ve heard she’s just like her mother, a real wild one. Rumors get around; let me tell you. Apparently, there was this one poor sap who–”

“Um, uh, it– it looks like you ladies have this well enough in hand,” Addressing the group at large, Rhys rushed to talk over his former boss. “I– I think– I think I’ll just step outside. Maybe get some fresh air.” 

Spinning on his heel, he swiftly exited through the garage’s open bay door. Narrowly focused on ignoring the continued prattling of his unwanted digital companion, he barely registered that nightfall had stolen across the sky, shrouding everything in darkness beyond the bright lights of the garage. 

“And things were getting really hot and heavy when she rolled over on top of him and crushed—” 

At his wits end, he hissed at the AI floating doggedly behind him, mindful of the volume of his tone. “Oh my god, will you shu–” Rounding the corner of the building, he almost ran into Athena. The vault hunter pulled up short, halting in her tracks to avoid a collision.

“A-Athena, hi! Sorry. I– uh, I didn’t see you there,” he scrambled to feign an air of casualness.

“Where are you going in such a rush?” She asked bluntly.

“Um, just for some air,” he answered meekly. “I think the gas fumes are getting to me?” Nerves turned his statement into a question. 

Her eyes narrowed as she studied him. Despite having done nothing wrong, her watchful gaze made him feel two inches tall. 

“Hmmph,” she scowled. “Stay close. The perimeter is secure but there’s a colony of spiderants nearby. Don’t go wandering off or you’re likely to become dinner.” She looked him up and down, as if assessing his quality as a meal. The expression on her face made it plain she’d found him lacking. 

“Will do,” he chuckled nervously, fumbling out a weak salute. 

Having said her peace, she dismissed him with a curt nod and continued on her way.

Shaken by the brief interaction with the vault hunter, Rhys realized he was holding his breath, his shoulders tight with tension. Exhaling shakily, he relaxed slightly. To his relief, Jack had vanished, likely spooked by Athena. 

Grateful for the brief respite from the meglomaniac’s incessant chatter, he rolled his shoulders and surveyed his surroundings. To his left a raised platform of solid concrete abutted the building. Taking the few short steps leading up, he leaned a shoulder against the wall and looked into the distance. Mountains of scrap metal clumped with stripped down car frames ringed around the property, forming a protective barrier against the elements. A scattered metallic gleam shining in the silvery moonlight hinted at the maze of rusted scrap heaps and other assorted detritus that stretched for miles beyond. A breeze kicked up, sending sand skittering over the hard packed ground with a soothing whisper. 

Lulled by this pocket of serenity amid the chaos he had found himself in, Rhys began to fully relax for the first time since they had broken down. He took a seat at the edge of the slab, lowering himself down to let his legs dangle over the ledge. Rubbing the tension from his neck, his eyes naturally gravitated to the heavy moon overhead and the H-shaped satellite suspended in front of its fiery glowing surface. 

A pang of homesickness clutched at his heart. Seeing the Hyperion headquarters from this distance reminded him of all that developed since he’d last stepped foot on the space station. The short time that had transpired felt like a yawning eternity.

To distract himself from the encroaching wistfulness, he looked to the stars instead. Billions of tiny points of light studded the night sky like so many diamonds. Comforted by the vastness of space, he began looking for familiar patterns amongst the heavens. 

“Hey, Hyperion,” a woman’s voice spoke behind him.

Lost in concentration, he startled and jerked to look over his shoulder. Fiona stood on the concrete apron behind him; the light from the half shuttered windows at her back cloaking her in shadows. 

“Damn, does working at that cushy office job really make you this jumpy or is it just a natural state for you?” she teased.

Putting a hand to his chest, he tried to calm his speeding heart. “In my defense, the phrase ‘dog-eat-dog’ isn’t quite so literal up there as it is down here. So, forgive me for being a little on edge.” 

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that,” she dismissed his concern with a gentle scoff. “The things that are likely to eat you around here don’t generally try to get your attention first. At least not the animals.”

He winced at her nonchalant reference to cannibalism; his stomach twisting queasily at the thought. Quick to change the subject, he nodded towards the garage. “So how is it going in there?” he asked. A muted cacophony of tools clanging coupled with an off-key rendition of a country tune filtered out through the window. “Did you guys decide on a price?”

Her shrug was noticeable, even in the gloom that shrouded her. “At first Sasha offered you up for an hour but we managed to talk it down to half that.”

“Me?” A cold finger of dread tracked down Rhys’ spine. He swallowed around the lump that had formed in his throat. “Wh–What?”

“I’m kidding,” Fiona huffed a laugh. “Don’t worry, Hyperion. Your virtue is safe. We agreed on a semi-reasonable amount. For cash. She says it shouldn’t take too long and then we can hit the road again.”

“Good, that’s great. Great– Great news,” he mumbled abashedly.

“So what are you doing out here?” she asked, tipping her head inquisitively. “Waxing nostalgic about crappy breakroom coffee and mounds of paperwork?”

“N–No,” Although he was quick to deny it, the kernel of truth in her question stung. “I was…” he hesitated. He faced front again, embarrassment heating his cheeks. “Nothing. I wasn’t doing anything.”

“Aww, c’mon,” she cajoled goodnaturedly. “You mean to tell me you ran out of there like your pants were on fire just to sit alone in the dark? I don’t buy it.”

“I didn’t run out of there,” he said, quick to defend himself. “And I’m not… Well, okay, yes. I am sitting in the dark.” He sighed resignedly. “Fine. I was… I was stargazing, all right?”

“Stargazing?” She seemed genuinely confused.

“Yes.” His eyes rose once more to the ocean of twinkling lights overhead. “I don’t know. It's just… It relaxes me.”

When no obvious derision was forthcoming, he hazarded a glance her way. Unable to make out her expression, he tried to read her body language. That, however, remained just as inscrutable as her face.

In the absence of a reaction, a looming sense of shame hung heavy in his mind, threatening to overtake him. He turned away and hastily explained, “Sometimes when I was stressed, I would visit the observation rooms on Helios and look at the stars. It helped because it reminded me that I’m just a small part of a much larger existence,” he babbled, the need to elaborate forcing the words out of his mouth mindlessly, “and that made my problems seem smaller. Eventually, I started to recognize the constellations and finding their patterns brings me peace when things get hectic.”

Finally, he trailed off, swallowing the stream of words in order to force himself to shut up. Humiliation burned like a stone in his gut as he waited for her response. His inability to keep his mouth shut had, yet again, left him a flustered mess. Internally, he kicked himself for his innate lack of poise. 

Her continued silence dismayed him more than any taunt. Rhys prayed she would let him off easy, tossing her hands in the air in dismissal and walking away. The scrape of her boots against the concrete was his only alert to her movements. To his profound surprise, she appeared beside him and lowered herself to sit, letting her legs hang over the edge in a position that mirrored his own. From this new angle, the light from the garage shone on the left side of her face. A gentle smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

A memory surfaced, one of her wearing that exact quizzical expression as she commented on his sock’s design way back in Old Haven. The remembrance soothed his ruffled nerves, setting him more at ease.

“Can you show me?” she asked, brushing her fingers through her bangs.

“Show you what?” Dumbstruck by this turn in events, he had forgotten what they had been talking about.

“The constellations,” she clarified. “I only know the one that’s supposed to look like a bucket with a long handle. I can never find it though.” She turned her eyes towards the sky.

“Um, sure. That one’s actually really easy to find,” he said as he pointed it out to her. “It’s so small.”

“Okay, Mr. Know-it-all,” she teased, bumping her boot gently against his. “Well, show me the bigger ones.”

“Hmm.” He searched the night sky for the telltale patterns of a constellation.

“Oh, it’s so easy,” Fiona quipped, mocking him amicably when he wasn’t quick enough.

“Give me a break, okay?” he said, amused. “It looks different from down here. Oh, there!” He pointed out in the distance, his arm extended fully. “There’s Ribella, the Muse.”

“The Muse?” she questioned as her eyes followed his finger.

  “Yeah, all the constellations have stories behind them,” Delighted by the possibility of her interest, he warmed to the topic, gushing as he continued, “Each one is based on a myth, likely derived from other folklore brought here by the early Dahl miners who colonized Pandora. There’s also Sansin, the Goat; Elsive, the Emissary; Daxy, the–”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she laughed, “Slow down. One at a time, okay? Now what am I looking for here?” 

“Right. Uh,” he chuckled nervously, “The overall shape is, well..” He trailed off, struggling to explain the blocky geometric outline that seemed so clear to his own eyes. He gestured ineffectually as he tried to trace the configuration with his hands. “It’s kind of like, um…” Tongue-tied, an idea occurred to him. “Oh, hang on.” 

Activating his palm interface, he navigated his way to a star chart of Pandora’s constellations and made a selection. Ribella’s dot-to-dot celestial formation projected out in brilliant digital blue. Enlarging the image, he attempted to align it as closely as he could to the stars in the sky. 

She scooted closer and leaned into him slightly to get a better view, eyes flicking between the image and the sky beyond. He tensed momentarily, uncertain how to react with her so near. Pointedly ignoring the heat of her body as she crowded into his space, he, instead, focused on tracing the imaginary connection between the stars' alignment with his free hand. 

“See?” he asked. “If you can find these two stars first, the rest follow along.” Once he was certain she had the formation, he turned off the interface and lowered his arm.

She spotted it quickly, her eyes widening in surprise and recognition. A elated grin spread across her face as she looked to Rhys, wonder shining in her gaze. His heart skipped a beat, a warm rush of satisfaction washing over him. 

“It’s funny, ” she said, settling back. “I’ve lived on this planet my whole life and I never thought about the stars before.” 

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, “Sometimes we don’t notice something until it’s pointed out to us, even when it was right in front of us the whole time.”

A companionable silence lengthened between them as they both drank in the tranquility of the evening. 

“You’re right, you know,” she murmured. 

“I am?” Surprise lifted his brows. “About what?” 

“It is relaxing.” 

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he glanced her way. Admittedly, he was intrigued by this glimpse of the gentler side that had remained hidden under her oft times cavalier attitude towards him. With her attention trained on the heavens above, he took the opportunity to examine her. 

Even in the dim moonlight, her beauty was unquestionable. He found himself mesmerized by the reality of her: from the soft slope of her nose, to the graceful curve of her jaw, and down the elegant line of her neck. Fluttering in the breeze, the feathered tip of the scarlet streak in her hair danced against her cheek. An overwhelming urge to brush it aside flooded his senses. His hand flexed with the desire to touch her, to trace a finger along the smooth surface of her skin, to caress the pillowy softness of her full lips. 

Sensing his stare, she looked at him. He flushed, self consciousness heating his cheeks. An apology sat on the tip of his tongue, about to be voiced, when the return of that quizzical smile silenced him. Snared by the soft look in her eye, he was unable to tear his gaze from hers. Despite the resplendent expanse of space filling the night sky overhead, she was the most breathtaking thing he’d ever seen. 

Something intangible shifted within him at that moment. An enigmatic notion unfolded in the back of his mind. However undefinable, the potential of its intensity flickered across his thoughts, frightening him more than any external threat he’d faced yet. Despite his fear, he was powerless to the effect it had on him. An incandescent lightness enveloped his hammering heart. The unfamiliar sensation was almost as painful as it was intoxicating. 

“Rhys?” Butterflies awakened in his stomach at the soft sound of his name from her lips.

“Hey, you two,” Sasha called out from behind them, shattering the expectant calm. Poking her head out of the window, she slapped the side of the building to further get their attention. “We’re all set. Let’s roll.” 

“B-be right there,” Rhys choked out. His response was unnecessary, however. Just as suddenly as she had appeared, the younger woman had popped back out of sight. He was quick to gain his feet. Self consciousness prickled at the back of his neck. He rubbed at the spot, trying to soothe his frenzied nerves. 

“Uh,” he cleared his throat, scrambling to gather his wits. ”Guess we better get going.” 

Strangely quiet, Fiona stood up and brushed at her jacket. “Yeah, um, just give me a minute.”

“S-sure.”

Jittery with some unusual sense of excitement, he stepped away. His thoughts worried at the new bizarre insight that had settled in the back of his mind like a pebble in his shoe. Stopping at the edge of the building, he looked over his shoulder to check on Fiona. Her back was to him, her head tilted up with her face to the sky. The strange ache that had taken up residence in his chest tugged pleasantly as he turned the corner into the bright lights of the garage.