Crash, Attn: Ilian

[Rhia Ischoron]

The sand of the battle circle was cool under her bare feet, untouched by the morning sun. This was the second time within a few days she had felt the grains between her toes and her gaze traveled across its surface, noting the furrows and dunes caused by shifting feet. Her eyes followed a curve, noting the way one phantom combatant had strafed to the right. Then his opponent had charged, his feet digging into the sand- But that battle was interrupted by another, where one was thrown down to the ground the sand flattened by a bare back as they landed. The sand was malleable, but it told snippets of stories. Leaning on one leg, she brought her own foot up to draw it across the ground, stirring up a fine white dust as she drew a line in the sand, just on the edge of the circle. She supposed it was her turn to tell a story now.

There had been no fanfare for today, except for the strumming of Rhia's nerves when she woke that morning. Of course there wouldn't be; challenges for honor were commonplace among the Mandos and this was just another to be thrown into the Battle Circle. It felt so much more important though, to her at least. Far different than the hundreds of other times she demanded Ilian meet her in the circle. She plucked at the white shirt that hung loosely from her shoulders, attempting to focus.

She was unsuccessful. Rhia's mind was unable to sort out what the difference might be, but every train of thought brought her back to Ilian, no matter where she started. It had been that way since he'd departed the day before and she'd heard through the grapevine that he'd sought out the jetii. What for? She hoped he had not gone to make a fool of himself again, but to her knowledge, there was no ensuing squabble. It was very curious, yet... Rhia couldn't focus on that. In fact, her thoughts kept running to their meeting by the battle circle, just yesterday. Ilian's behavior so strange, so... real. Like he was actually there, thoughtful and sedate. Comparing these two sides of Ilian, the second she had never seen until now, the first seemed merely a mask.

Something about that made Rhia happy, but at the same time nervous. When he came here, today, she rather hoped he'd back to the big cocky masquerade that she was used to. She just couldn't parse this new Ilian as well as how she felt about the man in general. Today, when they fought, the matter of honor would be settled, but after that, Rhia was still a frustrated woman, unable to figure out how she felt about a man. Fighting didn't solve everything. Rhia wished it did.

Straightening, she drew her eyes from the ground and looked to the horizon, dismissing any odd thoughts from her brain, seeking peace from the emotional turmoil. She could see, in the distance, billowing thunderheads. There was anticipation in the air, she could almost smell it, and thinking on that, her body began to thrum with excitement. It didn't matter who won, just as long as they fought. And focusing on those thunderheads and the signs of battle in the circle, Rhia was more than ready to draw blood.

[Ilian Ischoron]

Sleep would have been a good facet to implement in his strategy for the day. A good night's rest might have helped Ilian's mind to clear up some, relax and forget the confusion for a time. That definitely sounded like a good plan, but it would not be allowed. The hurricane thoughts in his mind simply wouldn't let his consciousness slip away. After walking away from the Jetii, Ilian had returned to his room, sat on the edge of his bed, and stared blankly at the wall. Excepting the occasional bouts of pacing, he had remained there for well over a dozen hours, all through the rest of the day and the following night.

It wasn't until the darkness of his chambers lightened and the telltale sounds of diurnal creatures stirring outside reached his ears that he knew his time was nearly up. Finding that he looked frighteningly unpresentable with dark blotches beneath his eyes and his exhausted, unwashed state apparent from every angle, he took some time to wash up and somewhat rehydrate his body, though he still ate nothing. He'd not had any food since the previous morning, and his body was not pleased. Impulsive as ever, he typically listened dutifully to his body's desires, and three of its favorite activities were feeding, fighting, and fraking. The first continued to be neglected as he simply had more important things to do; namely, the second. The third... No, that... No.

Ilian rubbed vigorously at his eyes. They were tired and dry, despite the water he'd just guzzled down. The bandage adhering to his lower back had been removed as he washed, the wound beneath it still sore. Some mild antiseptic was dabbed back onto it, but the positioning was awkward and he couldn't seem to get a fresh bandage in place, eventually just wrapping a long strip of cloth around his upper midsection to cover it. Hopefully it'd stay in place well enough to keep the sand out. He didn't look forward to picking out the grains should they get in there. Maybe some baar'ur would do it though. Maybe Rhia...

He really couldn't say whether that was likely or not, or if he wanted that or not. The whole night spent thinking and he still had very little idea of how this day would go. Some things had been clarified though; he believed he understood now why she was so furious with him, why his words would have cut her so. He had a plan. Sort of. It remained utterly unpredictable how she would react however. One certainty remained however. They would fight.

Pulling on a fresh pair of shorts, he paused and considered his attire. He did so love to wander about shirtless, both because it was comfortable and because he was well convinced he looked awesome while doing so. A shirt would further help protect his wounded back from the kicked up sand however and... It seemed somehow awkward to face Rhia now in his typical half-dressed state. Awkward? Yeah, that was the right word. How very bizarre. Ilian had never felt awkward about exposing himself. Well, when he was younger, but not for many years now. But this... He still hadn't managed to cement anything in his mind. It seemed so impossible.

Pulling on a light sleeveless shirt, he somehow felt no better as he wandered out into the Manda'yaim morning. There... Rhia was already down at the circle. Much as it had been the day before, his march down the dirt ramps to the lowest level of the compound was swift but far from eager, his eyes once again on his feet. She was unarmored. Good. He'd assumed she would set the terms as such. Looks like he had some ability to predict her after all. He said nothing as he stepped into the circle, merely waiting for her to name the terms as he slowly lifted his gaze to hers.

[Rhia Ischoron]

While no specific time had been set for their fight, it seemed that they both had the same idea. They wanted to get it over and done with. Rhia found the sentiment odd, especially since it stemmed from her own mind. Usually, she relished dueling, as any Mando would, but this just didn't seem right. What had happened before just seemed so very unimportant and she wanted it to go away, so the two of them could go back to the way they were before. It had been so simple before Dxun, but now the memories of what they'd said and done were firmly stuck in her mind, from that kiss, to Ilian's mind-bending proclamation, all the way to the insults and the anger.

There weren’t many around the battle circle at this time, save the arbitrator, so the movement on the ramp caught Rhia’s eye. Even from this distance, she could see that Ilian was in poor condition. A bout of irritation lit up inside her breast. Of course, what had she been thinking? He’d gone and wrecked himself the night before; He probably didn’t take this very seriously at all. Her gaze followed him down the ramp, seeking to meet his eyes and see that cocky gleam in them. Hoping to see that familiar gleam... No?

He didn’t look up until he stood across from her and when she met his amber eyes, she saw nothing arrogant- or familiar, even. If anything he looked haunted. What had the jetii done to him? Her lips parted in shock, but the words for asking if he was alright were stopped, staying fast in her throat. No, she couldn’t be showing off any sort of sympathy now. This was an honor fight and... She suddenly wanted to call it off. Dark eyes flicked to the arbitrator who just looked expectant.

But then, she might be viewed as a coward. Her eyebrows lowered. She wasn’t a coward and this duel was meant to prove it, to show Ilian up for even uttering such a thing. Conjuring up the anger she’d been nursing for the past month, she stepped into the circle, waiting until he followed suit before saying the terms. Her voice didn’t come out as strong as she wanted it to.

”We will go unarmed, until one is pinned.” She said, her voice just loud enough for the mediator and Ilian to hear her. And then the terms were set, the battle had begun. As she stepped closer to the center, she kept her eyes on Ilian’s. She was attempting to focus but relax at the same time, making her muscles ache in anticipation.

[Ilian Ischoron]

Rhia was no better than he at hiding feelings, and the surprise on her face at his appearance was quite clear. Yeah, that made sense. She'd been surprised yesterday to. Or he thought she had. He wasn't... exactly paying her a great deal of attention when he'd run off to find the Jetii. Hmm, he seemed to do that a lot, not pay her much attention. That seemed odd, given how much she meant to him. Some kind of defense mechanism? Ilian frowned and shook the thought away. He'd done enough uncomfortable soul searching already.

Or maybe not, since he still didn't have any concrete answers.

“We will go unarmed, until one is pinned.”

Simple enough. Really that was the way almost all their bouts had been fought. Occasionally, if they'd both been armored up at the time she dragged him to the circle all in a huff, she'd instead demand it be with plain long blades. She'd pretty quickly learned that his superior strength and reach and training with blades made for very unsatisfying matches from her perspective. Rhia's skill definitely lay in unarmed combat. Unless of course she could somehow contrive a sniper rifle battle in the circle. He would stand a chance then. Even unarmed though, they had ever been close to evenly matched. He'd spent more than one recent year in intense training at the hands of a Mando'ad of Aliit Vex, by all evidence one of the best unarmed fighters on the planet. Course, despite his lessons, Ilian had often let his pride or his anger get in the way. That almost always resulted in the same thing; his face being ground into the sand with Rhia's knee between his shoulder blades.

He didn't feel any anger now, and his pride was also amazingly at an all time low. Perhaps that would give him a distinct advantage in this fight. The funny thing was, he didn't want it. He didn't want to fight her, and certainly not to beat her. He would fight her though; he had to. This was an honor duel. If he refused... there was perhaps no greater insult he could give her than to demonstrate that she was not even a worthy enough threat to meet in battle. He'd be reiterating his unintentional implication that she was a coward, and also possibly suggesting that he was as well. No, they definitely had to fight. But he had something he had to say first.

He approached openly as she neared the center of the circle, keeping his posture relaxed, nothing that even resembled a fighting stance. His mouth fell open but only a hoarse whisper came out. He snapped it shut and cleared his throat. Why was his mouth suddenly so dry? Dammit, this was hard. Really, really hard. He was quite certain he'd rather face another zakkeg without benefit of a tree than have to go through with this. But go through he must. With a swallow, he started again. “Rhia, I... I know why you're mad. I get it now. I see what I said, how you must've taken it. I didn't mean it, didn't mean to say you were... You're no hut'uun. You're... The Ischorons are greater for counting you among them. This is all my fault and I'm sorry.”

He shifted slightly, clearly not very comfortable with the words coming from his mouth, though he'd had a good long while to consider them. It felt so wrong, caring about the effect his words had, even worrying about it. Usually he just said whatever and dealt with the fallout. This was a very strange day already. “So, that's all, I guess. We can fight and stuff now.” Finally he took up a sort of cautious combat stance, though he remained passive, waiting to see her reaction and ready to defend himself.

There was more of course, but this was all he'd resolved to say, the part he'd decided she needed to know. The rest... That could wait. He still had no idea what to do with everything else.

[Rhia Ischoron]

Rhia was all ready for a change of pace. For Ilian to suddenly drop the act and rush at her, for him to throw the first punch- Nothing? Still? He wasn't even readying himself, his stance open, that... look in his eyes. The tactical part of Rhia's mind started to pick out the ways she could take him down, but she didn't take the advantage. She couldn't. It was like her feet had grown roots. She watched him open his mouth once, raising one eyebrow upon hearing the harsh sound. What was it? Her eyes firmly fixed on him, she saw the way his throat moved as he cleared it and then swallowed.

"Rhia, I... I know why you're mad. [...] You're no hut'uun. You're... The Ischorons are greater for counting you among them. This is all my fault and I'm sorry."

Pausing mid-step, she straightened, her movements slow, her shoulders tense. She felt a great stillness settle over her. The tone, the way he shifted away. For a moment, her mouth opened, an anguished look in her eyes. An apology? Why- No, more like, from Ilian? Drawing in a sharp breath, she swallowed as well, fighting away the dryness in her mouth. He didn't look to be toying with her. A shaky exhale. Another inhale, taking in the heavy scent of impending rain.

Had they been anything but Mando'ade, an apology would've been sufficient for Rhia to feel her honor was intact again, but such was not true. She wanted to accept it though. She wanted everything to go back to the way it was before, the need so intense that it made her body hurt. She wanted... The woman wanted so much to be angry, but every time she thought she had summoned up enough to begin the fight, she made the mistake of looking at his face, seeing that odd look in his eyes, and it would drain away, leave her feeling empty.

Yesterday, by this very same battle circle, Ilian had managed to sweep away every single drop of resolve she'd built up. But how? He hadn't said anything to her, nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, he had cursed at her, told her to go away. What was wrong with her?

Finally, there came an emotion she could latch onto. Frustration. But at herself. And him. All his fault? That wasn't true, it was her fault too, it was just like him to try and take all the blame, to make her feel bad! A small part of her mind told her just insane and irrational this thought process was, but she squashed it down, shoving it into a dark corner. She didn't want to think about that, she just wanted to fight.

Her lips curled into a teeth-baring snarl, her dark eyes narrowing. He tried to speak more, but she cut him off, blurting out, "Stop it!" Her voice was laden with some unidentifiable emotion, making it savage but almost teary. "I don't want to hear it! Just stop it and fight me!"

Feeling her blood grow hot, Rhia crouched down into a combative stance. She could feel her heart pounding, as finally, he mirrored her. Battle was simple, primal. She didn't have to think about how she felt about the enemy, how disarming his honest smile was. All she had to do was destroy the enemy. Thus blinded, she went against her defensive combat style and darted forward, throwing a tightly balled fist at his face.

[Ilian Ischoron]

It had occurred to him that she might attack before he got any words out, but that was alright. He didn't have much to say, so if he had to get out a few words at a time between grunts as she pummeled him, he could deal with that. Whether it was only the apparent continued confusion at his own uncharacteristic sedateness or something else that kept her rooted, she did not press the assault. In fact her stance fell away at his words and she mirrored his initial inability to speak, her own mouth falling open ineffectually. Her eyes however, were different, while his were far from mirthful, hers looked downright tormented.

“Stop it! I don't want to hear it! Just stop it and fight me!”

And here was a rather large part of why he'd been so stressed throughout the night. Even once he'd more or less decided on a course of action, her response was completely unpredictable. He knew of course the fight would proceed, but beyond that... Apparently she didn't much appreciate his attempts to apologize, not even letting him finish speaking before roaring back. Still, in light of what he now knew, he could see how she would be a little upset. Of course, as much as he wasn't sure what he wanted, he was even less certain of her own desires. She'd kissed him back, he was pretty sure. There'd been a second brief contact of their lips after the first, one that was completely her doing. But that didn't necessarily mean...

It seemed his time for internal deliberation was over, Rhia falling back into her aggressive crouch before charging straight at him with her fist swinging. He'd assumed his own defensive pose by then and without any anger of his own to cloud things, he found countering her reckless attack was very simple, catching her wrist and twisting down and to the side, leaving her with little option but to go with the momentum and let herself be flipped onto her back. It occurred to him that was almost exactly what had happened the night they'd shared their most serious fight outside the battle circle, when she had gone dead at his cruel taunting and in her blank state been able to easily halt his charge and leave him staring up at the sky.

Much like she had that night, he retreated rather than following up with an attack of his own, taking several steps back from her instead of attempting the pin straight off. She'd be difficult to immobilize anyway without already having some hold in place. The woman was notoriously difficult to get a good hold on, agile and flexible. Other... activities in which those traits would be assets came to his mind unbidden, long years of habitual lubricity having solidified such pathways in his brain. One side of his mouth twitched up at the thought, but he forcibly shoved such notions aside. In this case, that would only further complicate an already impossible situation. With a tiny nod in response to her demand, he let out a quiet, “Okay,” as he began to approach once she'd regained her feet.

[Rhia Ischoron]

First, there was the charge, the surge of energy to her legs as she rushed at her opponent. Then, there was pain, Rhia crying out as Ilian redirected her inertia, twisting her wrist and forcing her to halt her forward motion to avoid snapping her wrist. Her natural flexibility allowed her to contort her body to a near unnatural angle to break free, but she was unsuccessful. Landing on her back, she grunted as the air was forced from her lungs. Surprise tore across her face at seeing Ilian standing over her; she was so used to the positions being reversed. 

Somehow, that single simple word, his agreement to her demand, was more intimidating than when he had been screaming for her blood the night before Dxun. A thin string of fear shot through her consciousness as she scramble to her feet and it stopped her from attacking right away. She shook loose grains of sand from her clothes as she took on a more defensive pose, circling the larger Mando, her predatory eyes on his every move. However, her stillness didn't last long. An electric buzz of frustration and anger made her impatient and again, Ilian coaxed her into rushing for the first blow. 

The world spun about, blacks, greens, and then a flash of white as her body was thrown against the ground. A feral shriek of pain and rage ripped from her throat and she rolled to her feet, this time, lunging without hesitation. The suddenness of her retaliation seemed to take Ilian by surprise and finally, finally, she landed her first hit, her arm swinging up in a wild arc and catching Ilian in the neck. Driven by bloodlust, she pushed the assault, striking out with her fists, her elbows, and her feet in rapid succession. Rhia was fast, but her passionate rage made her blind and stupid. Ilian was able to block many of her attacks and then return his own beating at her arms and sides. Her final attack was a kick, lashing out with her foot to drive it into his stomach.

The instinctive followthrough was one knee coming up to smash into his face, but instead of the gratifying sound of cartilage crushed against bone, she felt him deflect her attack, ripping away her already questionable balance. Desperate not to topple over, her hands scrabbled at his body, gripping the fabric of his shirt in balled up fists, ripping it. With the proximity she couldn't land a good hit, so she went for an alternative, going to sling one arm around his neck and attempt a headlock. The differences between their weights was painfully obvious making a successful grapple all it impossible but rage-blinded Rhia couldn't have cared less.

She lost any sort of advantage she may have attained when Ilian straightened, but she held on, trying to force him into losing his balance, any finesse that usually permeated her tactics absent. And she was growing fatigued. Should she have been thinking clearly, she would've been ashamed of her conduct, but she wasn't and in one final bid for superiority, she lunged at him, attempting the same move of knocking him down and straddling his chest to batter him with her fists.

Any success was short lived. Ilian managed to hold off her blows before going on the offensive. Stunned, she felt his arm hook around her neck, and a part of her knew that this was the end of the fight. That very same part caused her to fight all the more savagely however. She knew that as soon as she was pinned, she was done. Rhia fought, summoning her last bout of energy, managing to squirm out of the hold at first. Then Ilian's superior strength finally trumped her and a choked wheeze escaped her lips as he dropped all his weight on her, immobilizing her.

Throughout the battle, Rhia had been near oblivious to anything but the need to cause pain. Now, though, she could feel the sweat drenching her clothes and her hair, her spasming lungs barely able to draw breath... Her heart... Feeling like it would burst within her chest... And she was so... So very, very tired...

Lifting her head, she felt sand crusting over the blood that ran down her face, from a split lip, a bleeding nose. How did that happen...? It felt like an eternity that she lay there, trying to speak past the agony in her muscles. 

When she finally did, it was a mellow whisper, an endorphin-induced warmth having spread through her system. Her tone was one like they hadn't just spent the last few minutes pummeling each other and one of genuine curiosity.

"So, I heard you went to met the jetii..." She panted. Her voice sounded far away with a buzzing quality to her own ears. "What did you talk about?"

[Ilian Ischoron]

As the fight roared to life, Rhia's rage and his own unwillingness to not meet the challenge bringing them to clash hard against each other again and again, Ilian felt that things were no less surreal than they'd been the day before both during and immediately following his memory walk with the Jetii. He operated without anger, even when his defense broke and she managed a painful strike to his neck. That wasn't so odd; it wasn't as if he flew into a berserker fury every time he stepped into the battle circle, after all. Still, he did usually seek to utterly dominate his opponent, to humiliate and defeat them entirely so none could doubt his superiority.

But that wasn't the case here, now. As Rhia hit him, screamed at him, even as he struck back or threw her to the ground, there was no desire there to hurt her. It was all for her. He had to fight her, actually fight her, in order for her honor to be restored, but he really didn't want to. That had never happened to him before. True, he hadn't wanted to fight John, but pretty quickly he'd built up a good bit of anger that made him want very much to hurt the old man. This dispassionate style, and how effective it seemed to be, was very bizarre for him.

Conversely Rhia was not fighting intelligently at all. While her furious assault did allow her to get more than a few hits through, as soon as he began countering it became obvious she had no defense whatsoever. In certain circumstances, when you were much larger than your opponent for example, such a tactic could pan out. When notably smaller and weaker however, trading blow for blow rarely led to victory. Blocking the attempted knee strike to his face, he did feel a small spike of anger, annoyed that she would try to do more or less the same thing Vexa had, breaking his nose. It subsided quickly however as he reminded himself that... he really had brought this on himself. It was shockingly mature, but he'd doubtless be back to his careless, selfish conceit soon enough.

Her suddenly being so close to him however had him faltering in startled discomfort, and his ripped shirt didn't help. Nearly the entire front of it was torn free, the shred of cloth dangling and leaving his lower chest and most of his stomach exposed. Among other things, the thought of her seeing the clumsy attempt at rebandaging himself and disapproving brought a frown to his face. The distraction of his thoughts cost him as her slim but powerful arm whipped around his neck. Still she couldn't hope to match him in raw strength, and she was soon off balance again.

In response she threw herself at him, managing as she had once many nights before to knock him back off his feet. Rather than pin down his arms and chest and pound her fists into his head however, she was surprised to find him rolling with the momentum, and as she came down atop him they began rolling about, flinging up sand in every direction as they each fought for dominion, he with methodical power, her with an ever increasing ferocity. She remained squirmy as ever, difficult to lock down, but finally he had her.

His right arm scooped her left leg, pulling it up and locking it against his shoulder, sticking up in the air and that hand caught her left wrist and held it down out to the side. His left arm meanwhile caught her right wrist and similarly pinned it to the sand high above her head. Her only remaining free limb, the right leg, was entwined by his own meaty right leg, holding it down in a way that wasn't comfortable for either, but kept her from launching any particularly vicious knees. Finally he dropped his weight fully on her torso, the two of them pressed tightly together face to face.

Excruciatingly aware of the... suggestiveness of the positioning of their bodies, Ilian swiftly released her and rolled off to sit in the sand a few feet away as soon as the arbitrator called the fight. Sure that he'd not done any serious damage to Rhia, he gingerly probed his own face with a couple fingers. It felt sore and swollen in a few places. He'd avoided bloodying his nose, but she had again given him a bloody gash in almost the exact same spot as she had the night of their last fight. The irony brought a quiet, “Heh,” from his lips.

“So I heard you went to meet the Jetii... What did you talk about?”

Briefly he turned his face toward her, but... looking at her felt so awkward. He quickly refocused on the sand between his feet where he sat as he answered in a mellow tone. “You. I had her... she used her mind tricks to bring me back to Dxun, to show me everything I couldn't remember. Hitting the zakkeg, coming to alone in the clearing, you patching me up. And... all the stuff that happened in between those last two. I... yeah. It's... yeah.”

[Rhia Ischoron]

As soon as Ilian let go and the battlemaster called the victor, Rhia started to unfurl herself from the position Ilian had pinned her with, groaning in response to the creak of her forcibly stretched muscles. Flattening her body out on the sand, her chest heaved as she tried to breathe slowly, but ended up gulping at the air, making up for the lost oxygen while she'd been nearly folded in half. She wasn't aware of the suggestive nature of the pin, but her brain was close to turning in on itself, unable to organize the flood of stimuli, emotions, and the pain-killing endorphins.

First, she knew she was in pain. The sensation was a prominent one, constant, and flowing through all of her nerves. If it wasn't aches from developing bruises or open wounds, it was her exhaustion, which seemed to have nestled between her shoulder blades and made her back scream in agony. If not that, it was the spasming of overstretched muscles in her thighs and back. That position had been very effective in pinning her.

Arousal had always been an elusive concept to Rhia. She knew she got excited when in a good, bloody battle, but that wasn't the same as this feeling. Neither was the regular excitement of purchasing a new weapon, a new toy to wreak destruction with. No, her brain told her matter-of-fact, too tired to invest in a bout of denial, you like Ilian getting close to you like that. It gets you going. It wasn't a dominant feeling. More of an undercurrent beneath the aches and pains. A low, drawn-out groan emerged from her lips, and she rested one forearm over her eyes, wincing when she tried to move her fingers. Blood from her split knuckles splattered across the backs of her hands, drying sticky between her fingers.

This realization was horrible. More horrible than it had been back on Dxun. Once was a coincidence, more likely a misinterpretation of stimuli, an erroneous transfer of excitement. Twice was a confirmation. Of physical attraction. To Ilian. A more knowledgeable woman would argue that this wasn't unhealthy, seeing how Ilian was an attractive man, but Rhia's mind was focused more on how she knew him as a person. She didn't want to be attracted to him... She wanted all of this to go back to normal. Though unspoken, the sentiment was petulant and one bloody fist drove itself into the sand with a soft thump.

With an incredible act of will, she lifted her arm off of her face and opened her eyes, looking at the graying sky, and at the swaying tree branches. With a groan, she sat up, sand flaking off of her sweaty skin, and clothes with every move. Turning her head, she surveyed what they'd done to the circle, her brain once again lucid enough to trace their movements in the sand. It had been a long fight, longer than most battle circle standards where the combatants called it off before one or both was exhausted. And so, so sloppy. Rhia was able to trace her movements, her wild charges, the throw downs, and then, their wrestling. What had she been thinking?

Her lack of control was mortifying, but only to herself. She started to dwell on it, but her rational side squashed it all down, exhaustion permitting no energy to making up nonsense for Rhia to be upset about. All Mando'ade knew rage. They knew hatred and passion. They weren't Jetiise. Rhia had simply submitted to these emotions and it had lost her a battle where the victor didn't matter anyway.

Besides, the woman couldn't recall any of it, the fight being a bloody blur now. Her anger-ridden mind had neglected to take remember it all properly. Hell, she couldn't even remember what he had been saying before they started. Trying to figure it out, her eyebrows drew together, but Ilian's voice cut through her thoughts before she could go further.

“You. I had her... she used her mind tricks to bring me back to Dxun, to show me everything I couldn't remember. Hitting the zakkeg, coming to alone in the clearing, you patching me up. And... all the stuff that happened in between those last two. I... yeah. It's... yeah.”

Not comprehending, Rhia's eyes focused on Ilian's face, noting how his face was gashed open again. She opened her mouth to respond, her brain enough of a fuzzy mess to make that response a stupid "Huh?", but she was cut off by the battlemaster. Blinking, Rhia looked up at the older, grizzled Mando'ad and then nodded her head. Two other duelists were waiting on them.

They were done, the fight was finished, and Rhia's honor was satisfied. She should've started to feel better, but she didn't. Pushing herself to her feet, she wobbled in place for a moment before offering Ilian a salute, her curled fist propped against her shoulder and then exited the circle. Standing beyond the boundaries, now, Rhia stared listlessly off into the woods, her brain attempting to process Ilian's answer.

Then, she got it. She understood. Her body stiffened and her head whipped about to look at him, her surprise and agitation letting her forget the pain. Oddly, she didn't quite care about the fact that Jetii Shay had dug into Ilian's mind with her mind tricks. She cared that Ilian knew something that was, until now, certain to have remained a secret. A cold heat rushed over her body and she searched Ilian's face for the joke he was so obviously telling - if that was a joke, it was a supremely lame one - but it was no joke, Ilian's face still calm and open as ever. His ever-present tranquility, combined with this new information, threw Rhia into a new loop, as if she hadn't been suffering from emotional turmoil enough.

She opened her mouth and then closed it. Then opened it again. Her eyes started to flick about their surroundings, looking for an answer. None came. A huff of breath emerged from her throat, sounding like an 'oh' and she felt her legs start moving. She started to walk along the edge of the trees, unconsciously seeking privacy. She turned to ensure that Ilian was following, and led them away from the circle.

A few deep breaths and then Rhia drew her lower lip between her teeth, biting it until she tasted blood. "I, um..." It was a struggle, finding the right words. Then, Rhia decided that there were no right words. "We were... emotionally compromised- after all that. And I mean... I know you, you like to have fun and... all..." As Rhia grasped for the right words, she felt a fat raindrop land on her shoulder. Gazing up at the sky was a good excuse to avoid looking at Ilian. "I don't... I mean- I don't... expect anything from what you said. Or what we did."

The words were empty. So, so empty. Emotionally compromised, hah! What a load of osik, even though... Technically, it was all true. Emotionally compromised aptly described Rhia, but without the negative connotation. Similarly, she honestly didn't expect anything from Ilian, knowing his love for sex and women. She just couldn't get jealous, knowing him. She liked to think she really knew him, after all, they were friends. Suddenly, a real true clear emotion reared up in her brain, and the words flew out of her mouth before she could stop them, her cheeks growing warm.

"I... really care about you, Ilian."

[Ilian Ischoron]

Eyes—light green on that overcast morning without the sun's direct light—remained fixated on the dust and grit surrounding his seated form after he'd spoken. Only in the silence that followed did he eventually glance back to Rhia, to find her looking past him and rising to her feet. Swiveling his head back the other way, he noted the battlemaster looking slightly impatient, briefly adopted an 'oh, right' expression, and stood himself, probably less achy than Rhia from the fight, but sore nonetheless. His eyes fell on Rhia again as she saluted him and turned away to leave the circle, a moment later returning the honor slowly to her back. Turning back to the man who had witnessed the restoration of her honor, he repeated the gesture and inclined his head respectfully.

Spinning back on Rhia to join her outside the battle circle, he found her staring at him, a look fixed on her face he was mostly familiar with. The surprise was clear, but... Was that anger? She looked very similar to the way she did when he managed to shock her delicate sensibilities with some particularly lewd comment, such as when he'd mentioned how a stun baton on a very low power setting would do her good. But that didn't seem right. He'd said nothing of the sort, though she had reacted with some anger when he'd apologized to her before the fight, probably the first time he ever had. Head tilting to one side, his brow furrowed slightly. She was very difficult to understand. What was it she wanted from him?

Hopefully she was about to explain it in simple mando'a, but no words came out of her jabbering mouth. Glancing around as if lost, she finally turned and walked away, out further into into the forest toward the edge of the compound. He watched her go, remaining where he was with an increasing bewilderment apparent on his face until she glanced back, giving him the clear indication she meant for him to follow. He did so, ambling after her at a slower pace than he usually used. The soreness in his legs was a small part of the reason; mainly he was just hesitant to get into this conversation because as much as he'd gone over possibilities over and over again in his head all night, he really had no idea where it was going to lead, or what outcome he even hoped for.

“I, um... We were... emotionally compromised […] expect anything from what you said. Or what we did.”

Momentarily, Ilian too cast his eyes skyward when the slow, heavy rain began. He found that he had no problem looking at Rhia however so long as she wasn't simultaneously looking at him, and as he rather enjoyed looking at her, he refocused on her athletic frame and undeniably beautiful face, the thick drops starting to wash away the sand and blood that marred it. She sounded every bit as uncertain and cautious as he felt, and looked it as well. What he wasn't getting, unfortunately, was what it was she wanted. He could ask, but she might take that as a sign of interest, or at least an intent to honor her desire. He didn't really plan on dispensing either of those, and leading her on would make him feel worse. It wasn't exactly selfless reasoning, but for Ilian it was pretty good.

That uncertainty of what would happen made him glad that she wasn't expecting anything, and he conveyed that with a slight nod and quietly uttered, “Good,” oblivious to how easily that could be interpreted as heartless and disinterested entirely. She was right though; he did like to have fun. Could he really see himself... what? Married? Giving Rhia sons and daughters? He'd never pictured such a future before. He'd never really planned that far ahead at all, ever having been an 'in the moment' kind of man.

"I... really care about you, Ilian."

He stared. Did she want that, a steady marriage and children? Maybe, but with him? Her immediate rejection of any advances he'd made since the day they met told him otherwise. Yet he'd never seen her in the arms of any other either, so it was hard to guess what exactly she did look for in a mate. “Rhia, you... I really don't think I'm your type.” In all fairness he wasn't sure she was his either. Did he even have a type? He had preferences when it came to his toys, sure, which incidentally she didn't exactly fit. She was taller and darker of skin and hair than he typically went for. Certainly still attractive, and his eyes slipped from her face, going slightly lower as he observed the way the falling rain had caused her shirt to start to cling to her curves. Even that though, was different, the way he appreciated her figure. He couldn't describe it, certainly didn't understand it, but it wasn't the same. It was more...

Snapping his eyes shut and shaking his head, Ilian frowned slightly. This wasn't the point. What was the point? Dammit, why did he get so... so spun about and tangled up around her now? Was that love? He was certainly selfish enough to pursue it even if it clearly wasn't best for her, so long as he believed it was what he wanted, but he wasn't at all sure of that either. Finally he reached up to wipe away the liquid that had gathered in his eyebrows and then began picking at the shreds of his shirt that had begun to stick awkwardly to his torso, turning his eyes down to watch his idle work, unable to look at her any longer. “I dunno. I dunno what this is, what you want, what I want. Dunno anything.”

He grimaced slightly as he looked up, his eyes going from overwhelmed confusion to reminiscent thoughtfulness. That wasn't quite true. He did know one thing, even if he really didn't understand the how or why of it. “I didn't lie, though. On Dxun, when you were fixing me. When I said... when I was drugged. I didn't lie.”

[Rhia Ischoron]

During and after her words, she’d kept her gaze firmly fixed on the sky, ignoring the heavy raindrops that started to fall with increasing frequency. They landed on her shoulders, in her hair, on her face, but she didn’t look away. Not yet, she was afraid of what she might see. Her throat moved as she swallowed, something like dry amusement rising in her chest. She could face a dozen armored enemies equipped with just a pistol, and feel no fear, but she couldn’t work up the nerve to speak about her feelings to a man she truly cared for.

When his silence grew too much to bear, she finally looked down to meet his eyes. He was staring at her, looking shocked. Relief was her first reaction; it told her that the calm attitude wasn’t permanent. However, she couldn’t look into his green eyes for long and her gaze shot back up to the cloudy heavens, a raindrop landing on the bridge of her nose making her squeeze her eyes shut.

“Rhia, you... I really don't think I'm your type.”

She kept her eyes closed, but her face remained blank. The only movement was her jaw muscles tightening. That mild, out-of-place amusement was replaced by a black heaviness that spread throughout her body, making her shoulders sag. But why? It wasn’t as if he was rejecting her sentiment. He was stating fact; He wasn’t her type, she wasn’t his.

Well... Perhaps she had been lying to herself. Maybe she did expect something. That something wasn’t a full on committed relationship with children and- For some reason, the very thought was frightening and illogical. She swallowed. Rhia most certainly hadn’t been expecting that, but she also wasn’t expecting Ilian’s response. Being proceeded by the nod and the ‘Good’, it was so dismissive.

Unable to stop it, her first word was an “Oh...”, ponderous and miserable.

When she opened her eyes again, she was relieved to find that Ilian wasn’t looking at her, his eyes cast downward. She wasn’t presumptuous enough to assume, but she had an idea of where he was looking, and for the first time, she just couldn’t bring herself to care. She wanted to care and she wanted it to be like old times, when she got angry at him ogling her, but it really didn’t seem like he was doing that. There was no lewd smirk on his face, and after a while, he looked away.

She glanced down at herself and found that the rainwater had weighed down her shirt. Grimacing, she pulled at the hem of the garment, peeling it away from herself and then letting it drop with a wet slap. The tree cover saved them from a little of the downpour, so Rhia hadn’t noticed just how much the clouds had opened up. The blush in her cheeks had gone away with Ilian’s first answer, but now it returned, Rhia ashamed of her state of dress.

Her arms crossed over her chest, and upon looking up, she glimpsed Ilian’s frown. Lost, she searched his face and found nothing. Her eyes trailed down his torso to his hands as they worried at the tatters of his shirt.

“I dunno. I dunno what this is what you want what I want. Dunno anything.”

Rhia’s mouth seemed to be against her today. “I wanted us to go back to normal. She blurted out. “I mean, you’ve always been my friend, and I thought that-”

“I didn't lie, though. On Dxun, when you were fixing me. When I said... when I was drugged. I didn't lie.”

The flow of words stopped and her dark eyes met and held his as he looked up. That changed everything. Rhia felt it again, that overwhelming feeling of bittersweetness taking root in her chest. He’d meant it. He’d meant those words and she didn’t respond then because she hadn’t known how. On Dxun, she’d dismissed it as the drugs talking, simply so she could focus on tending to his injuries instead of his words. As soon as she had handed him over to the baar’ur, she had regretted it, suddenly having nothing to distract her. For many long hours, she’d turned over in her head what she could’ve said to him in response. The only thing that seemed right was saying it back. Now was her chance.

Her lips drew into an ‘o’ shape and then she let out a huff of breath. There was no way to explain how she felt, except that it was like she was watching herself move and speak. She stepped towards him, picking through the wet grass, and lifted her hands to touch his face. There was a moment’s silence and then she murmured, “We’re not going to live forever.”

The words were slow, as if they’d been caught in a stasis field on her tongue, but they held unmistakeable certainty. “Ni... kar'tayl gar darasuum.”

Their height difference was a good eight inches, but that was negligible as Rhia stretched up, and pressed her lips against his, hearing nothing but the rain and the wild pounding in her ears.

Her certainty didn’t last, as much as she might’ve wanted it to. Rhia was simply too scared now; she’d jumped the gun, with the kiss (as much as it made her head spin again), returning his sentiments. He’d already expressed how undecided he was... This was Ilian she was talking to and ‘forever’ was... Forever.

Flooded with regret, the woman squeezed her eyes shut, and half turned away from him, shoulders hunched with embarrassment. Drawing her hands down her face, she shook her head, trying to get rain out of her eyes. A weak smile adorned her face, and she glanced back at Ilian. “I’m sorry.” She breathed, hating herself and every word that came out of her mouth. “We should probably go stop this now, forget about it. Naming the impossible. Rhia was good at it.

[Ilian Ischoron]

Whatever she'd been babbling about, he didn't catch a word, too distracted by his own thoughts on the words he'd said to her on Dxun. Therein lay the true quandary. Yes, he was attracted to Rhia. But he was fraking Ilian Ischoron; he was attracted to most women, and they to him. Big fraking deal. Popular opinion aside, he was capable of ignoring his attractions. He just rarely saw reason to. No, if it had been merely that he could've dealt with it and carried on; they could've—as she'd said, though he hadn't caught it—gone back to the way things were.

It was more than that, much more. He knew Rhia, had been beside her for nearly three years now. They'd shared many meals, made each other laugh countless times. He'd fought with her on innumerable occasions, both with her against a common foe and, more regularly, against her in the battle circle. Victories belonged to both, as he'd alternately throw her about like a ragdoll and find himself flipped onto his back or dropped flat on his face. There was a bond there, to be sure, one he cherished. This last month, being utterly ignored by her had been excruciating. No way in hell had he been about to show it, but he'd known it, felt it. He wanted her in his life, but... in this context?

There was no telling when he'd die, much as he tried to avoid the fate. That was a large portion of his reasoning in living in the moment, not getting attached to his sexual partners, always on the lookout for new ones. That was the complicated part, anyway. The simpler part was he just liked sex. Settling down with one woman, allowing himself to become tied down like that with a family and all... it didn't sit well with him. Besides, it wasn't as if he'd ever been taught how to be a good father.

“We're not going to live forever.”

That... was almost exactly what he had just thought, although she seemed to be taking the exact opposite response and using the same argument for it. Weird. He couldn't even think to argue though as she grazed his cheeks with her fingertips, the contact so different from what he was used to from her. Namely, balled fists slamming in with a good deal more force. The gentle, affectionate touch drew him in, and before her heels had even left the ground he was beginning to lean down himself. The soft press of her lips against his was exquisite. He hadn't realized how much he'd been desiring that sensation ever since the Jetii had shown him the memories of it happening before. Those phantom feelings and images were still hazy, his exhausted state and the influence of the sedatives keeping them from being as clear as he'd like. But now, in crystalline clarity, he could feel her, taste her. It was incredible.

“Ni... kar'tayl gar darasuum.”

Ilian's hands had come up to cup her elbows as they kissed, her hands on his face. His fingers began to slide slowly up her arms as she slowly spoke the words, looking to eventually wrap his arms around her. At the same time his head remained angled down toward hers, moving closer to lean his forehead against hers lightly as they embraced. Before either maneuver succeeded however she was pulling away and turning her back, causing him to blink lightly and frown, confused once more.

“I'm sorry. We should probably go stop this now, forget about it.”

Well that was... She had just said... Frak. Confounding woman. He briefly considered what she'd said, but was still more interested in what she'd said before about not living forever. He already knew this might be a bad idea, but... In the moment it felt right, and he knew he'd hate himself if he never explored the possibility, now that it had presented itself. Stepping closer, one bare arm slid around her midsection, his hand pressed firmly to her abdomen and holding her against him as his other hand slid down her arm to finally interlace its fingers with hers, her knuckles pressed into his palm. His slightly bruised and swollen lips brushed against the lobe of her ear before he whispered, “Probably, but when have you ever known me to do what I should? I... don't want to let you go.” Trailing down from her ear, he kissed away the raindrops that had fallen on her neck.

[Rhia Ischoron]

Rhia was caught in the vise-grip of regret. Their lips met, his were soft like she remembered, and Rhia’s mind started to swim, her eyes sliding shut. But then, what he had said before came flooding back. He didn’t think he was her type, she wasn’t... This felt so good and right. He started to pull her closer. Despite her inexperience, her body knew how to respond to positive stimuli, and she leaned into the embrace, deepening the kiss- No! She had to break it and turn away. The woman regretted doing that too.

What the frak was she even thinking, doing that? He had just said, just said it... Something about- Stars, what was it? The sensation on her lips was lingering, distracting her. It was something about... Something. It was something important not moments before, and she had gone and ignored it. She pinched the bridge of her nose after wiping more water from her face. On top of all of that, this was Ilian she had just confessed her love for. If anything, this stupidity was going to make her just another notch in his belt, stars, when had she become so frakin’ foolish?

The thought of that made her heart ache, her throat tighten. She’d meant her words, but then there was the torment of wondering if he really meant everything he said as well... Though, if anybody complained about Ilian - quite a few people did, mostly women - they never said he had promised anything like a relationship and didn’t deliver. He had never lied. Was he lying now? If this whole entire mess was a ruse to get her into bed... That didn’t seem like him. It was ridiculous to think anybody would have the dedication to go through all that just for sex.

Still, she didn’t want to look at him; the younger Mando’ad was probably laughing at her silliness, like he usually did. Or about to make some lewd comment. Maybe she had grown to like that over the years, as insane as it was. It was kinda humorous when he did those things, and then that funny look on his handsome face every time she sputtered out a rejectio- Focus, Rhia. Stop it.

In either case, he’d never leave her alone about it, probably tease her for the rest of their lives. A jumble of feelings rattled about in her skull, making her skin grow very hot, and the raindrops feel very cold. Just as she was drawing in another breath for a second apology, goosebumps pricked down her neck and back, and she stiffened. Resistance was the last thing on her mind as his arm slid around her middle, pulling her close. She could feel the hard muscles of his torso against her shoulders, and then his other hand running down her arm. There was a sharp, sweet pain as his fingers brushed over her swollen knuckles, but she opened the hand, entwining their fingers together. A shiver rushed down her spine when his warm lips grazed her earlobe.

“Probably, but when have you ever known me to do what I should? I... don't want to let you go.”

Her sharp gasp of surprise was audible even over the constant tattoo of the rain. “What?” She choked. Turning her head, she looked at him, their faces close enough for her to see the flecks of amber in his green eyes. There wasn’t anything like deception in his lovely eyes. Those words were wonderful, and the telltale signs of her blush darkened her cheeks. To Rhia, they rang real and true. By tiny, slow increments, a smile emerged on her lips, reached her eyes and then she let out a chuckle that shook her body. “Never.” She whispered, resting her forehead against his as well as she could from her position. “You never do what you should. I think that’s one of the reasons I love you.”

When his lips started to trail down her neck, a low moan echoed in her chest, unbidden. These sensations were new and her body was enthusiastically proclaiming its interest. She tilted her head away, giving him more access before letting her body loosen and leaning back against him. He really knew what he was doing, making her desire something devastatingly intimate with him.

It was this thought that had her eyes snapping open. Ilian was experienced, he knew what he was doing. Rhia had nothing, nothing to offer. He would probably hate anything that they... did. If it came to that. Rhia had never gotten close enough to anybody to sleep with them. Everybody she knew just kept dying. So, she’d given up after a bit. Lifting her head from where it had rested against his shoulder, she straightened, but slowly, her body unwilling to give up his warmth and these sensations just yet. She kept their fingers intertwined as she turned about to face him.

She opened her mouth to tell him about her reluctance to keep going. Her body was bruised and battered, she was exhausted, she didn't know what she was doing. For the Manda's sake, she had a bloody nose, and his face was gashed open! As if that was any deterrent to a Mando. So many excuses. The words didn't come. She'd just said it herself a few moments before. She could die tomorrow with the regret of not seeing this all the way through. Defeated once again, her hand slid up his chest and behind his neck, drawing him into a kiss, made frantic for her eagerness to be with him.

[Ilian Ischoron]

The corners of his mouth turned upward as she shivered against him, feeling the ripple run down her whole body. Her shock was apparent as she turned her face as best she could to meet his eyes. Those eyes, so dark and warm but filled with some remaining traces of uncertainty, grew only more inviting as her grin grew, her cheeks flushed, and the uncertainty faded. His own smile widened a fraction. He wasn't thinking any longer about the implications, about what this would mean, what future lay in store. He knew he wanted her badly, that she wanted him just as much, and there was little else that mattered there in that moment.

“Never. You never do what you should. I think that's one of the reasons I love you.”

Though his preoccupied mouth curled slightly into a smile, her words were mostly ignored as he went about exploring the side of her neck and upper shoulder with his lips. The time for speaking was past, as far as he was concerned. The moans that reached his ear and thrummed lightly against his chest—he was able to feel the vibrations through their extreme proximity—only drove him on, leaning farther forward to kiss around her throat and very upper chest. While his fingers flexed and shifted, maintaining the interlock with her own but constantly in motion, his other hand began lightly massaging her belly, working its way gradually lower...

Feeling her resistance, however faint, his hands paused, though his lips continued their delicious work. She wasn't decisively pulling away this time, merely showing a relapse into uncertainty that he was determined to quash. His attentions to the base of her neck were finally forced to cease as well however when she finally straightened fully and turned to face him. Regarding her as she tried to find words, he didn't seem to note how ragged she looked, nothing in his eyes suggesting much awareness of how bruised and bloody parts of her were. Impassioned eyes roamed her face and body hungrily, and if she could have seen any reflection of herself in their depths, she'd have appeared pristine and god-like, veritably glowing with beauty.

His free hand, the one that wasn't still inextricably bound to hers by their insistent fingers, rose to her face, brushing away the droplets that were already collecting on her brow again before sliding his fingertips down her cheek and along her jawline. Whatever doubts had resurfaced seemed to sink once more, her hand pressing to his chest and sliding up to hook his neck and pull him back down to her. Their lips met again, and this time he wasted no time in slipping both arms tightly about her, letting both hands roam over her back, pressing the pads of his fingers into her lean muscle, before wrapping her in a tight hug and lifting her clean from the ground for just a moment, prolonging the kiss and pulling her tight against him.

Pivoting as he held her aloft, he set her down near the base of a large tree, the tangled limbs high above offering some protection from the increasing downpour. Gently letting her feet connect with the soft ground before pressing forward, Ilian pinned her between the trunk and his body, still drinking deeply of their kiss. Holding it a moment longer, he finally pulled back, just enough that he could start to crouch, his lips once more traversing the glorious path of her neck, and continuing down. Hands that had abandoned her back when he pressed her to the tree slid down to her hips, then slipped under her soaked shirt, gradually peeling it back from her firm flesh. His lips met Rhia's bare abdomen, laying several kisses around and upon her bellybutton before reversing direction and heading back up, now unhindered by any intervening cloth.

Despite his passion, Ilian remained keenly aware that Rhia had never done this before, and he didn't want her regretting it later, inevitable as that seemed for the Great Mandalorian Prude. Still, he would be slow and gentle, partially for her sake, but also because he wanted this to last for as long as it could. Lost in the moment as he was, he never released his grip on how this was... not the same. He'd fraked many, many times before, but never once had Ilian made love. Despite his focus on what he was doing, his eyes flashed upward one last time to try and meet hers. It was funny, as much trouble as he'd had looking at them only minutes ago, he now wanted to remain in those dark brown pools forever.

[Rhia Ischoron]

Rhia spoke, but her words fell away into the sounds of the rain pattering on leaves, unheeded. A few moments later, the woman forgot what she had been saying, the memory slipping from her mind to be replaced with the warm trail of kisses Ilian left down her neck and across her shoulders. Mere minutes before, she had been agonizing over how much she had to offer him on this playing field. That worry had been swept away after she saw the look in his eyes when she’d pulled away. He wanted her, just her, all of her, the look simple and raw enough for even her inexperienced eyes to read. It stole away her breath.

Falling back into kissing Ilian, another shiver flew down her spine, feeling his hands roam over her body, down her back and her sides. Having both hands free, one stayed curled around his neck, while the other, her right, started to trail up his left arm, blindly mapping the scars there again. She’d only made it up to his bicep when she felt the muscles flex, and then tighten around her. Bruises from their fight protested against the squeeze, but the glowing hum of pleasure overrode all of that, and she draped her arms over his shoulders, her grip tightening when she felt her feet suddenly leave the ground.

She brought her knees up to clamp about his hips, the reaction automatic, as if they were caught up in a fistfight. The woman had been tossed around enough to know that clinging tightly to your thrower made it difficult for them to disengage to perform said throw. It wasn’t as if it mattered though. Her mind, like a laser, was fixated on just how much closer they were now, her body flush with his. It was so warm, too, the skin on skin contact, that the rain was almost icy cold, adding to the thrilling sensations.

Her eyes were squeezed tight and her mouth was firmly fastened to his, but the tug of gravity told Rhia that they were shifting positions. A step or two forward, and Rhia felt the rough bark of the tree press into her back. Somehow, Ilian was able to press himself even closer to her, and her fingers dug into the skin of his shoulders, straining to return the pressure. Never had she wished so desperately to be with someone. Her speeding heart was obvious, their bodies being so close, but then he was pulling away. There was a moan in Rhia’s throat and she tried to keep him close, but he had other plans, instead letting her down gently.

Rhia’s legs unfolded, the muscles shaky, and she leaned up against the tree, letting the hands that were on his shoulders move about again, traveling down his front, over his stomach, touching on the loosely-bound bandage, and abandoned that path to move up his sides. She had always admired his body, an unconscious operation, but she’d never thought she’d derive so much pleasure from touching it. Using the tips of her fingers to leave a light trail or the full palm of her hand to knead an area, she reveled in feeling his wet skin and the muscles underneath. Their lips came apart with a quiet pop and Rhia sighed as if deflating. Her eyes slid open and she met his for a brief moment before he returned to kissing her neck and started on his downward journey.

“What are you...” She started in a murmur, but never managed to finish, his hands running down to her hips, his mouth following. Her breath hitched in her throat as his hands worked their way back up, but this time under her sodden shirt, against the scar-adorned skin of her stomach, as she was unfamiliar with this kind of intimacy. Resting her hands on his shoulders again, she watched him, blinking, unable to fathom what he wanted, what he was doing. His eyes flicked up to meet hers and she presented a smile before tilting her head to the side. Rhia was ignorant to the nuances and differences in lovemaking and just plain old frakking, so she didn’t know what was in his mind, just that, as she held his gaze, there was something special about this. To him, and definitely to her.

He started to stand, and little rivulets of water ran down Rhia’s belly as he began to peel away her shirt, getting it to the thick knot of old scars on her belly before she reached up to pin the hem against herself, stopping his progress. This was where Rhia felt her first shot of fear. Her brain was caught in a haze, but her half-hooded eyes snapped open and she met his eyes again.

“Wait, here? It’s... so open...”

She didn’t want it to stop, but they were all the way out in the open, fully exposed... Even if she was the most excited she’d ever been in her life, there was no way she could do this with the knowledge that someone could walk by at any moment. The world around them once again came alive to her, the sights and sounds and smells of it sharp as a knife which cut through her brain’s fuzziness. They were only a little ways off from the battle circle, though it had been vacated with the rain. The dark slits that were the compound windows stared at them from the light brown building faces. Rhia couldn’t do this! But... She didn’t want to stop.

Dark eyes scanning the trees about them, Rhia caught sight of a smaller building, nestled on the edge of the forest. There were many armories about the compound, but this one armory was, ironically enough, where they’d first truly fought. Rhia wasn’t thinking about that though. Already, she had leaned down to grasp Ilian’s hand and nodded her head at the building, her intent clear. Spurring her aching muscles into a run was no small feat, but she managed it well enough, bowing her head against the downpour of rain to rush for the armory building, swinging the door open. She scanned the dark interior. It was empty, and suddenly hesitant, she stepped into the cool, dark, dryness. The smell of oil and the acrid scent of energy packs hit her nose, and her ears were assaulted with the insistent drip, drip, drip of the rainwater running off of their forms onto the cement floor.

The place had been cleaned up, of course, but Rhia took no notice. She closed the door behind Ilian and turned back to him, leaning against the handle, her breathing hard from the sprint. She wasn’t quite sure how to get back into it now, but... Well, his shirt was ripped and wet, and it was barely hanging onto his body anyway. Slowly she reached out and she pulled it off, letting it drop from her fingers with a wet slap. And that was it, that was all it took. It wasn’t just a kiss she was drawn into, but a new frightening world she’d never explored before. All she could do was let Ilian lead the way.