RhysxMia fanfiction! Those two need more love.

FEVERISH

"To Mia!" Zihark shouted as he raised his fourth glass and leaned heavily on Stefan. "And to her newly-earned freedom she already had but now it's official, or whatever!"

Cheers and claps filled the room following the swordmaster's drunken speech, as well as laughter.

This was the first party the mercenaries had held in three years. Mia's eighteenth birthday had just been a pretext, really, to loosen up and share a laugh or two. Still, Rhys thought to himself as he watched his friends chat, laugh, and even dance, after what we have been put through these past months, I think we all deserve a break from our normal life. This was the reason why he was amused to see Boyd, who was already half drunk, engage in a beer-drinking contest with Mia. Witnessing Leanne dance with Naesala as the crow growled really was a sight to behold, too.

"I'm not curing any hangover tomorrow," Rhys warned playfully although he knew he would, eventually. "And I doubt Mist will, too."

"You're spoiling all the fun, Rhys," said valkyrie chuckled from her seat nearby. The priest noticed Tormod was sitting next to her with his arm around her shoulders. The teenager looked like he had had a drink or two himself, as his big grin and slumped behavior showed, and Rhys hoped he would go no further with Mist in that state. Oh, he wasn't worried about Mist, on the contrary, it was Tormod he was afraid would be harmed...

Thump! Boyd had stumbled to the side and crashed on the floor, bumping into Kieran in the process. The Crimean knight, who was at the moment hugging Marcia, held onto her even more so he wouldn't fall down, which got the female pegasus knight and Oscar to laugh out. Kieran growled and almost tripped over Boyd when he turned around to "fend off the foolish foe who had so foolishly made a foolish attempt to surprise the Great Captain Kieran, Fifth Platoon-" There, Oscar and Marcia dragged the rambling redhead away.

Mia jumped up onto Boyd's chest, her arm raised in triumph. "Bow down to me!" she ordered happily, but her hiccups went unheard. The warrior was already out cold and even snoring. Zihark and Stefan were clapping, though, congratulating their swordmaster friend, but they burst out lauging when Mia tried to jump off of Boyd and tripped on the warrior's helmet. The young woman lost her balance and had to hold onto Rhys to stay up. The bishop's orange eyes widened in surprise and he staggered a little under the added weight. "Sorry," she grinned sheepishly.

Rhys shook his head. "I'm walking you back to your room, Mia, you are going to collapse," he said as he secured his arm around her waist to offer her support.

"Hey guys, to whoever can hear me... to Rhys and Mia!" Zihark yawned as he raised his now empty glass above his head. "May they live happily ever after!" A few cheers were heard, and a slapping sound rang into the air; Tormod had apparently gone too far, once again.

The healer shot him an annoyed look. "You go to sleep now, or I make you," he threatened as he half pulled, half dragged a giggling Mia in the corridor. "Stupid swordmaster," he grumbled over Zihark's comment.

"Aww Rhys, you're so cute when you're angry," Mia giggled.

"You are drunk, Mia."

"Now, does it really matter?" she almost purred as she wrapped her own arms around the priest's neck and waist. Rhys could smell the alcohol more than ever, and it was intoxicating, but not nearly as intoxicating as her proximity or her body heat.

"I take it back: you are very drunk, Mia," he tried to say seriously but the heat in his cheeks didn't help at all. The swordmaster's body was tighly pressed against his own and Rhys wondered how much time he was going to hold on. Priest or not, there was only so much a man could take when the woman he liked was hugging him like that.

"Aww Rhys, you're all red in the face!" Mia laughed as she gave his scarlet cheek a big kiss. It only served to worsen the bishop's predicament. "Embarassed 'bout something?"

Rhys kept silent and pretended to be searching for her room. Wow, this place is so big, I've never seen a castle so big, I wonder how much time it would take to get lost in here, he thought to himself, trying to forget about the situation. Probably five or ten minutes, and then it would take about four hours to get out of here. I mean, there are just so many doors and so much stairs, how can someone actually live here, it certainly gets very annoying and-

"Say Rhys, do you have feelings for me?"

Silence. This time Rhys couldn't think of a proper way to ignore the question, and his blush took on a darker shade.

Mia smiled, almost a true genuine sober smile. "I knew it. You're very cute, Rhys, y'know?"

"You are drunk Mia." Those words seemed to solve everything that night.

But Mia kept giggling under her breath, playing with a lock of orange hair and hiccuping to herself along the way. By the time they reached her room, Rhys was almost carrying her. She didn't weigh a lot, but her constant laughter and struggles made her at least ten pounds heavier on the bishop's arms.

Rhys opened the door with one hand. "We are here, Mia." He looked down at her and took in her ragged appearance. "Will you need help to change?"

Once again Mia purred, and she scratched Rhys's chin affectionately like she would do to a cat. "Why? Want to take advantage of the situation, tiger?"

If she weren't drunk, I'd be laughing my head off... or jumping in her bed, maybe. But she is drunk. Indeed she was drunk, and she didn't know what she was doing. "Well, I suppose you'll manage," Rhys said as calmly as he could despite his boiling blood as he walked over to the bed and sat her down on it.

Mia leaned back and laughed. "Scared of little old me?" she asked, and now Rhys was sure he was imagining things. Her voice definitely wasn't that sensual.

The priest decided that retreat was the best course of action in this one battle, and he was sure even Soren would agree. Otherwise something could go bad. "Well you have to rest, so I'll leave you to it. Good night," he said as he turned away to the door. Yet, he froze when Mia grabbed his hands in both of hers.

"Aww please!" the swordmaster pouted, pulling Rhys to her until he was sitting on the edge of the mattress in front of her. "I don't wanna be left alone! Please Rhys... stay with me?"

"Mia, you need to rest, and I-"

"Please Rhys... as a birthday present?" Oh no... she was making puppy eyes now.

The orange-haired young man struggled with himself to decide whether he was going to stay or not, but one glance at the pleading green eyes and the words were out before he could help it. "Fine, I'll stay, butonly until you are asleep."

Mia gave a delighted grin, and Rhys was about to give her a smile of his own when her arms shot around his neck and she pulled him to her; or rather over her, because she had lied down on her back. The man sputtered with surprise, unable to move. "W-what was that for?" he stammered, blushing fiercely.

The swordmaster didn't answer, she was too busy running her hand through his hair. "Mhm, granted, you don't know anything about swords... but certainly, you make up for it elsewhere, don't you, Rhys?" Mia said absently, her hands moving down to his back. "Maybe... maybe you know of another kind of swordmanship."

"Mia!" Rhys gasped as he sat up. The purple-haired young woman took advantage of his move and rolled him onto his back so she was on top. She began caressing his cheek with her fingertips, slowly, almost lovingly. Although Rhys was enjoying the motion, he knew from Mia's body language that she intended to take it farther – he was a healer after all, this was his field of expertise. Which didn't mean he wasn't nervous, or scared even. The young man closed his hand around Mia's to get her attention. "Mia, as much as I hate to say it... you are drunk, you don't know what you are doing and these are probably things you will regret later on."

Mia just giggled again and lowered her head so she could speak directly into his ear. "I know I won't regret anything," she whispered huskily. "I have feelings for you too, Rhys."

This left the young healer dumbstruck. Did she really return his feelings, or was it just alcohol speaking? He pondered the idea over, not uttering a sound, and he was so lost in his thoughts that he nearly jumped when Mia began trailing soft kisses from his ear to his jaw. He gave out a quiet gasp when she straddled his waist and her lips moved down to his throat. Alcohol acting too? Well, in fact, Rhys didn't care all that much, now that he thought about it. He was but a man, and what's a man to do in this kind of situation?

Rhys finally gave up on fighting and brought his hands to her back as Mia's nimble fingers worked on undoing the fastenings of his pure white robe. When she was done opening it, the swordmaster untucked Rhys' blue shirt so it loosened and she bent down to kiss his collarbone.

The bishop managed to wriggle his right arm out of his sleeve and he wrapped it around Mia's waist to reach her belt and unbuckle it. Her orange dress was the only thing between their chests now, but it probably wouldn't be for long. The young woman smiled and kissed the priest on the lips, gently as first, but then with more force. Rhys leaned up in anticipation as he felt her hand slid downwards... downwards... to rest upon his hips. Mia had frozen.

Rhys parted his lips from hers to whisper: "Mia, you don't have to do anything if you don't want to." Still she didn't move. "If you don't feel the same way, it's okay, I'm not offended really." No response. "Mia are you listening?"

Light snoring. Warm breath upon his neck. She was asleep.

His first thought was to feel disappointed, but some part of him felt relief as well. He was glad Mia would not do something she might not want to do, but at the same time he was sad they hadn't done anything. It had been so close... Stop being selfish, he thought to himself. It's not all about you. Mhm... I'll talk to her in the morning, I can't get up anyway. Rhys gently wrapped his arms around the young woman's waist and settled his cheek against her hair.

Let's hope she doesn't rip my head off in the morning...

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Dawn found Rhys already wide awake, and playing with a lock of deep purple hair. Mia's head was still nestled on his chest, and her warm breath tickled his bare collarbone; Rhys wouldn't move. A nagging voice told him he should leave, but he felt at peace just lying here, with Mia's comforting weight on his chest and her warm body in his arms. Occasionally, he would run his hand up and down her soft back, and play with a strand of her hair. But he stopped almost at once, afraid that she would wake up and push him away.

After a while – the sun had just begun lighting the room – Mia stirred against the bishop's body. Rhys looked down at the mop of messy dark hair and couldn't help a smile when the girl mewed and rubbed her sleep-filled eyes, not yet registering what she was leaning on. When she did, however, she turned her head up to look at him. "Oh," she mumbled quietly. "Hello Rhys..."

"Welcome back amongst the living," the priest chuckled.

"My head, it hurts," the swordmaster groaned as she tried to get up.

Rhys' hands grabbed her arms to keep her from getting up and making her predicament even worse. "It's no wonder, you drank so much after all... Stay still, don't even think about getting up."

"What happened?" she asked as she let him lie her down on the bed.

"You got drunk."

"Oh." Mia's hands went to her temples once again. "Oh yes... I remember."

Rhys froze. What did she mean by that? Did she remember getting drunk, or everything else? The whole "trying to sleep with him" story?

"I remember... nothing."

Well, this settles that. Rhys couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. He would have liked to talk with Mia about it, and he would have loved to hear her say the same things than the day before. Overnight he had thought about everything he had lived by her side, everything he liked about her, and he had come to a conclusion he had known from the beginning; he loved her. But did Mia love him back? Now that she was sober, he had hoped to talk to her about it, but his hopes crumbled.

"Rhys, you look frustrated," Mia spoke up and shook him out of his daydreaming. "Did I say something bad? Oh I'm sorry!"

"Calm down, Mia, you didn't say anything bad, it's nothing," the orange-haired man tried to smile.

But it didn't fool Mia, even in her current state. "What did I say then?"

"Nothing, believe me, you were drunk so it doesn't really matter," Rhys shrugged.

"... Was it harsh? I tend to say harsh things when I'm sleepy, say, was it harsh?"

The priest just sighed. "It wasn't harsh, Mia." But then he couldn't help adding: "It was just a little surprising."

He cursed his slip of the tongue when the young woman tilted her head to one side and gave him a funny look. "What do you mean, surprising? What did I do exactly?"

"Well, you... you asked me if I had feelings for you, then you tried to make me sleep with you... well sleeping wasn't the thing you had in mind, to be truthful," Rhys said honestly; he had never been able to lie to her.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when Mia fell back onto the bed with a loud thump and closed her eyes. He thought for a moment that she was unconscious, but then she sighed long and loud. "Just what did I drink yesterday?" the girl groaned. "I'm sorry Rhys, I never meant to make you go through all this! Just what was I thinking?"

When she smacked her forehead, however, the young priest caught her hand and brought it back down onto the bed. "Mia, calm down please... nothing happened, I swear it."

"This is all Stefan and Zihark's fault! They poisoned me!"

"Goddess' sake, Mia, take it easy, I tell you nothing happened."

The swordmaster finally calmed down enough to talk seriously. "I'm sorry Rhys, I'm really sorry," she said once again, rubbing her forehead. "It probably wasn't funny at all."

"Well, to be honest it wasn't, I didn't want you to do things you might regret." But if he wanted to be really honest, Rhys had to admit the least funny part was when he had realized Mia was asleep. But he wasn't going to tell her that; last night, he would have had the courage to speak from his heart but now... he wasn't so sure about it.

"You probably hate me now?" Mia asked quietly.

"What? Are you joking? I'm not going to hate you just because of this, besides-" Rhys gave a weak smile, "-if you had been sober I'm not sure I'd have refused."

Now Mia was staring at him. She blinked a few times but she didn't speak, and she didn't move. Rhys was waiting for her to yell at him or even hit him, and he even began making up apologies in his head. But he hadn't expected her to do what she did then; Mia burst out laughing.

It was the bishop's turn to blink and stare quizzically.

"Oh I get it! I get it!" Mia gasped in between fits of laughter. "You've been pulling my leg all along! In fact I didn't do anything like that, Stefan and Zihark made you tell me those things! I'm sure they are standing right behind the door!"

Rhys could only stare, his mouth slightly opened. A joke? She believed it was a joke?

"Those guys are something... come on, boys, come out! I figured your tricky joke out! I'll have to admit you really play it well, Rhys, you're a great actor," Mia smiled, but it only stabbed Rhys' heart a little more.

"Yes... aren't I?" he mumbled weakly.

"I went for it, you really had me there!" the young woman chuckled.

"That I did... it's getting late," the priest said as he got up, straightening his robe. "I'll leave you to rest, I must... feed the dogs, yes, my turn to feed the dogs. Good bye."

"See you later!" Mia waved as Rhys closed the door of the room after him. "That good old Rhys, always willing to play jokes! Where would I be without him!"

Mia laughed a few seconds more but then she began to wonder.

"Since when do we have dogs?"