Before the first light of dawn could dispel the darkness, Shepard found herself slowly drifting back to consciousness. The island was still enveloped in the quiet of the night, the only sounds being the distant lapping of the waves and the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze. She lay there, intertwined with Arius on a bed of soft grass, his steady breathing in sleep a comforting rhythm in the stillness. The uncanny heat his body gave off was a welcome warmth against the chill of the night air. She could feel his heartbeat, a steady thrum, and she felt a sense of peace she hadn't felt in a long time.
In the dim light, Arius stirred, and she became aware of the sensation of his fingers gently running through the strands of her hair, then tracing over the contours of her body, lingering on the places where scars had marred her skin. His touch was light and reverent, and she recalled previous nights when he had done the same, seemingly fascinated by them. It was a stark contrast to his own unmarred skin.
"Tell me about these," he whispered, his fingers brushing over a scar on her side as he navigated the map of her battles by touch alone, his eyes still closed.
Shepard shifted slightly, the memories associated with each mark surfacing in her mind. "That one," she began, feeling his fingers trace a jagged line across her ribcage, "I got during a mission on Feros. We were ambushed by geth, and one of their shots caught me off-guard."
Arius's hand paused over a faded scar on her forearm. "And this one?" he inquired, his voice soft in the quiet night.
"A piece of debris during the Skyllian Blitz," she answered. "It was a chaotic battle, and I was helping to evacuate civilians when a building exploded nearby."
"Hmm." His hands then noticed a particularly rough scar near her hip. "This feels like it hurt," he commented.
Shepard nodded. "A shard from a husk's explosive during the assault on the Collector base. We were in the thick of it, and I was a bit too close when it detonated."
Arius' hands slowly drifted upwards, his fingers gently finding a smaller scar near her collarbone. "This one is different," he observed.
"That was a souvenir from a skirmish with pirates on the outskirts of the Terminus Systems. It was an unexpected encounter, but we managed to fend them off," Shepard explained, her voice laced with a hint of pride.
His hand roamed to her chest, where it found a rough mark. "I know this one - from the Citadel during the attempted coup."
"Yep."
"And this?" he asked, gently tracing a faded patch on her shoulder.
"I fell off my bike when I was a kid." She smiled at the memory. "I was trying to show off for my friends."
Arius chuckled softly. "I can imagine you were quite the handful as a child."
Shepard laughed. "I was a bit willful, but I was a good kid."
His hands slowly roamed the expanse of her back, finding and tracing the outline of an irregular patch. "This one… feels like a burn."
"It's a brand," she informed him. "From Mindior. Batarian slavers brand their slaves to prove ownership." She felt his body tense slightly at the mention, and she reached back to place her hand on his arm. "It's okay," she reassured him. "I'm not a slave anymore."
Arius's touch lingered on the brand, a silent acknowledgment of the pain and suffering it represented. He opened his eyes, meeting Shepard's gaze in the dim light. "And how about this one?" he asked, leaning down and kissing her nose where a thin line marked it.
Shepard smiled. "I'm not totally sure about that one. I think it's a leftover from getting spaced or the Lazarus Project."
Arius's hand moved to her face, his fingers tracing the contours of her cheek where another faint mark resided.
"I've seen a lot, haven't I?" Shepard mused quietly, a half-smile playing on her lips despite the heavy memories.
"You've lived a life many can't even imagine," Arius replied, his voice tinged with admiration. "Every scar tells a story, and you, Eden, are a gorgeous collection of incredible tales." His hand came to rest over her heart.
"God, you're such a sentimentalist." Shepard laughed, her eyes shining with affection.
Arius smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "You knew that when you signed up for this, which means you secretly adore it." He took one of her calloused hands in his, raised it to his lips and kissed it. Then, pausing, he glanced up at her with a playful yet earnest gleam in his eyes. "Beautiful goddess, tell me how your skin always tastes of salt and honey."
Shepard caught the twinkle in his eye and let out a soft chuckle, recognizing the blend of jest and sincerity in his words. She arched an eyebrow, playing along. "Oh, is that your way of asking for another taste, Arius?"
Arius's laughter, soft and warm, filled the space between them. "Perhaps it is," he admitted, his voice a blend of mirth and tenderness. "Or would you prefer I take the more traditional route and recite some poetry?" He audibly cleared his throat, then began, "One unique is the sister, without her equal, more beautiful than all women. Behold her like the star, having appeared in glory at the beginning of a good year…"
Shepard, feeling a sudden rush of warmth in her cheeks at his words, playfully placed her finger on his lips, silencing him mid-verse. Her eyes danced with amusement and a touch of unspoken bashfulness. "That's enough, Arius," she said with a gentle yet firm tone, her smile betraying the affection she felt at his attempt. "I think the stars themselves might get jealous if you continue."
As the first light of dawn touched the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, the nocturnal magic of the island began to fade, giving way to the promise of a new day. The bioluminescent glow of the flora dimmed, surrendering to the growing brightness of the sun.
The dreaming had ended.
"What a night," Shepard murmured, her voice soft and content. After laying a kiss on his cheek, she gently extricated herself from Arius's arms and stood up, stretching her limbs. The island, bathed in the soft light of dawn, was a stark contrast to the enchanting realm of the previous night. The air was fresh, carrying the scent of the sea and the earth, invigorating her senses.
Walking to the edge of the clearing, she gazed out at the sea, watching the sun rise above the horizon. Behind her, Arius languidly rose, running a hand through his hair, his eyes finding Shepard's figure against the backdrop of the sunrise. He joined her at the edge, his gaze following hers to the horizon. They stood there in silence, watching as the sun climbed higher in the sky, its rays warming their skin. The island was waking up, the sounds of the morning filling the air, the chirping of birds, the rustling of leaves, and the gentle lapping of the waves.
Eventually, Shepard broke the silence. "We should head back to the camp. The others will be waking up soon."
Arius nodded, his eyes lingering on the horizon for a moment longer. "Yes, let's. They'll be wondering where we disappeared to."
.
The pair made their way back to the camp, their steps light and unhurried, a comfortable silence between them. The night's adventure had brought them closer, a shared experience that would remain a cherished memory.
Approaching the camp, they noticed that some of their crew members were already up and about, starting their day with various routines. The tantalizing aroma of coffee and breakfast filled the air, promising a hearty meal. A few crew members were gathered around a large pot simmering over an open fire, engaged in a lively debate about perfecting their hangover cure. Grunt sat impatiently in front of the pot, clearly hungry and irritated by the ongoing deliberations.
"Is it done yet?" Grunt grumbled.
EDI, with her usual precision, replied, "The recipe calls for more curry powder."
Vega, seated beside EDI, had a different perspective. "No, that's too much."
EDI remained steadfast, saying, "The recipe is very specific. I have measured the proper volume to the nearest milligram."
Grunt repeated his question, "Is it done now?"
Vega, undeterred, continued his culinary philosophy, "I understand, but when you cook, you need to go with your feelings. You can't just stick to a recipe."
EDI countered, "If we do not follow the recipe, we risk creating something that tastes offensive."
Vega appealed to Traynor for support, but the Specialist had her own unique perspective, saying, "Oh, now I'm supposed to be the expert on curry? Just went right there, did you?"
Vega looked puzzled. "Uh, I just meant that you're a human. With taste buds."
Traynor quickly deflected, "I don't even like curry! I have an allergy!"
Grunt, growing increasingly impatient, interjected, "Are you going to be done soon, or do I need to go hunting for something?"
Sensing rising tensions, Shepard approached the group. "Everbody okay?"
"The efficiency of this retreat was failing due to inadequate food supplies," EDI informed her, "but do not be concerned. I am compensating."
Grunt shook his head, exasperated. "I just wanted her to heat something up. Now she's cooking!"
"With a vengeance," Traynor added.
"EDI, I appreciate the help," Shepard shared, "but retreats aren't about efficiency. It's kind of the opposite intention."
"Understood, Shepard. However, achieving optimal group cohesion often involves meticulous planning and attention to detail. You did not pass through the Omega-4 relay to assault the Collector base without preparation. Why should this be any different?"
"Because it's a retreat, EDI. No one is going to die if we do it wrong."
"I'm really hungry, Shepard," Grunt persisted.
Ignoring the hungry krogan, EDI continued, "But if you were to ask a team member to select the music, and you chose Jeff, the results would be disastrous."
"Agreed. I would never choose Jeff for the music. Traynor's the woman for that job."
"Hurrah!" the Specialist enthusiastically affirmed.
At wit's end, Grunt let out a low, rumbling growl as he reached into the pot, his large hand dwarfing the ladle. He scooped up a generous helping of the simmering curry, drawing the curious gaze of his crewmates. With a warrior's disregard for caution, he swallowed it in one bold gulp. The reaction was immediate: his rugged features twisted into a grimace, a mix of distaste and astonishment playing across his face. After a brief, pensive pause, he spoke with unexpected authority, "Should've substituted coriander and cumin instead of this generic stuff."
The unexpected culinary critique from the krogan warrior left the crew momentarily speechless, before a mix of chuckles and incredulous glances broke the tension.
Grunt glanced around, his eyes narrowing. 'What? What are you all looking at?' he growled, slightly embarrassed but defiant.
Traynor, unable to resist, chimed in with a light-hearted tone, "Well, I never thought I'd see the day Grunt becomes a spice connoisseur. We truly are in uncharted territory."
Grunt, ignoring the light teasing, barked across the camp, "Arius! Get over here and salvage this disaster. These folks wouldn't know the difference between a spice rack and a weapons cache."
Arius, who had been quietly observing from a distance, approached with a mixture of amusement and great pride in Grunt's growing culinary development. While he crouched down and began rummaging through the assorted spices they had brought, Javik, still in his battle armour and fighting the strong effects of the over-imbibement the night before, sauntered over to the group.
Amidst the morning chatter and pleasantry exchange, Vega turned his attention to the Prothean, who seemed to be quietly assessing the camp's activities. A curious thought struck the marine, and he couldn't resist asking.
"Hey, Javik, I've always wondered," Vega started, his tone casual yet genuinely interested, "what did you Protheans eat? I mean, back in your time. I don't think I've asked before."
Javik, still slightly inebriated from the previous night's celebrations, seemed to ponder the question for a moment before answering. "Most of our ingredients are extinct, except..." he began, his voice trailing off.
Arius, sensing where Javik's answer might lead, shot the Prothean a sharp look and made a discreet chopping motion with his hand, urging him to stop. However, Javik, affected by the previous night's indulgences and not quite in his usual state of sharp awareness, continued, oblivious to Arius' warning, "... krogan, asari, turian, salarian, and quarian."
The group fell into an awkward silence, processing this revelation. All eyes slowly turned to Arius for an explanation and to Grunt, the only among their number on the ancient Prothean grocery list.
Grunt, unfazed, responded with, "No surprises there. We're tough to chew, but that doesn't stop half of the predators on Tuchanka from trying." The krogan turned his attention back to the curry. "But enough about ancient diets. Let's focus on fixing this mess, I'm hungry." Grunt's pragmatic approach broke the tension, and the group's focus shifted back to the task at hand.
As the sun climbed higher, casting a golden light over the camp, Shepard and Arius, with a shared sense of fulfillment and a hint of reluctance, recognized that the time had come to leave the serenity of their retreat behind.
.
As the morning progressed, the camp came alive with the bustling activities of packing and preparing for departure. Shepard took charge, ensuring that everyone was accounted for, all equipment was secured, and that nothing was left behind. The high morale among the crew was palpable; jokes were exchanged, and laughter filled the air, a stark contrast to the mood just twenty-four hours prior.
As the crew finished gathering their belongings, Shepard took a moment to appreciate the beauty of the island one last time. The sun was climbing in the sky, casting a warm glow over the tranquil landscape. The sound of the waves provided a soothing backdrop to the busy scene at the camp.
"I guess all good things must come to an end, huh?" Vega shared as he joined her at the shore, looking over the sparking blue waters surrounding them.
Garrus joined them, as well. "I'll never forgive Arius for this. Not only am I still homesick," the turian said, shaking his head in half-sorrow, half-jest, "but I'll be thinking of this place now too."
Tali appeared beside them a moment later, letting out a small, melancholic sigh. "It's strange, isn't it? How a place can feel like home so quickly. I'll miss this."
Shepard nodded in agreement, her gaze lingering on the horizon. "It's the peace it offers. Something we haven't had in a long time."
Just then, Joker joined the group, his usual casual demeanour masking a hint of seriousness. "Hey, do you think...," he started, pausing as he looked around at the tranquil surroundings, "we could actually hide from the Reapers here? I mean, this place seems so isolated."
The group fell silent, each contemplating the thought. "It's a nice thought," Shepard answered, "but the Reapers... I don't think I'd want to see this place in flames."
"Yeah, I know," the Alliance pilot replied with a slight shrug, "Wishful thinking, I guess."
The group disintegrated to complete the pack-up, leading Shepard to stand alone again. A moment later, she felt another presence join her. It was Arius, and he, too, looked over the water with a bittersweet expression, for this might be the last time any of them would step foot on its shores.
Shepard leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. "Thank you," she whispered.
Arius turned his head to look at her. "For what?" he asked.
"For everything," she replied, her voice soft and sincere. "For this. For being here. For being you."
Arius's smile widened. "I'm glad I could be here for you, Eden. I'm glad I could be here for us."
Shepard smiled, her eyes shining with unspoken emotion. "Me too."
Appearing from the beyond, their transport shuttle circled overhead and began to descend.
"Ready to go?" he asked, his voice soft.
Shepard nodded, her eyes lingering on the water one last time. "Yeah, let's go home."
With the camp fully dismantled, the group made their way to the shore where their shuttle awaited. As they boarded, Shepard took one last look, a silent promise to herself to remember the brief yet meaningful escape it had provided. The retreat had served its purpose, bringing the crew closer and giving them a much-needed break.
The shuttle's engines roared back to life, breaking the tranquillity of the island for the last time. It lifted off, soaring into the clear blue sky. The island grew smaller below them, a jewel amidst the vast expanse of the ocean until it was just a speck, before disappearing back over the thin line of the horizon.
