Notes: I had to twist Thane's timeline and few details just a bit. Special thanks to askeebe, sanguinespire and customshep.
Thane had never thought Irikah could be more entrancing than she already was. Yet the sight of her in her wedding clothes, bathed in the orange light of sunset matching her irises and contrasting with the white garments she wore, made him shiver in awe. The Gods had banished the eternal rain from the sky, and Thane took it as a sign that they approved of their union.
Drell traditional wedding attire was simple and identical for both partners no matter the gender, a remnant of the old Rakhana ways. At first, Thane had been bothered by the straight-legged white pants and the sleeveless white tunic. The richly ornamented clothes, with intricately woven golden details, left his bare arms, torso and feet exposed. The former assassin was used to armored leather and darker outfits. He couldn't help but think that this one wasn't stealthy at all and would never stop a bullet, even though there was no reason for anything to happen on this blessed day. Old habits die hard.
However, the sight of his soon-to-be wife in the same outfit made him forget any concern he had. Her thin, yet muscled, chest was exposed as well, as was her slightly swollen stomach, revealing the fruit of their love for the whole world to see, and he felt proud. He felt lucky. He would thank Arashu everyday of his life for sending one of her Sihas to him, for giving him a second chance. Irikah was his redemption. She had taught him the way of the Old Gods, she had awoken him, brought him back to life.
Few people had been invited to witness their union. Irikah's relatives, mostly. A hanar from the compact had come, but it was merely to observe and report that the drell's marriage had been officialized. The masters still hoped he would come back; he had been one of their most precious assets. But he would not. That life was over. He was going to be a father. He would learn to provide for his wife and child in another way, no matter the cost.
On the edge of the cliff overlooking Kahje's never-ending ocean, Irikah was beaming at him, the sun behind her making her ocher skin glow beautifully. She was ethereal. A divine being, beautiful beyond compare. As he walked to her followed by the disapproving stare of her family, he realised nothing else existed, nothing else mattered.
Seizing the inviting hand she had extended, bringing it to his lips, and gently kissing the tip of her fingers, he faced her as the sun bathed them both in warm light. They pressed their foreheads together, as tradition dictated. Thane plunged his gaze into hers, drowning into the beauty of her sunset-colored eyes and her warm smile, and recited the ritual words she had taught him.
"I pledge to Arashu, Goddess of Motherhood and Protection, from this day and until my last breath, to bind my life to this drell. May my spirit and soul bring her serenity.
I swear to Amonkira, Lord of Hunters, to cast away any threat, may my body be the weapon to chase our enemies.
I beg to Kalahira, Mistress of Inscrutable Depths, to shield this drell from her embrace and if the worst comes to pass, to grant her forgiveness."
Irikah's smile widened as Thane spoke with a steady voice, solemn and deeply happy. She was radiant, tears of joy she tried to stifle without success running down her cheeks. She repeated the same ritual oath, her voice weaker than Thane's, shaken by emotion. Every word she pronounced sent lightning strikes of sublime joy into his heart. He could feel her warmth as their foreheads were still linked. They never once glanced away, staring into each other's soul. He had never felt anything so intensely, never allowed himself to, but today would be cherished and the memory relived thousands of times.
As Irikah uttered the last words of the oath, they both turned to face the sun, which was nearly gone beneath the waves, presenting themselves to the Gods. They were blessed. They were married.
Thane gasped for air as the memory faded away slowly and realized he had been holding his breath the whole time. His painful lungs, already weakened by Kepral's Syndrome, were burning from the strain. He cursed himself for slipping in memories again and wiped the silent tears he had been shedding, slowly drifting back to battlesleep, his only shield to solipsism.
His hands were covered in batarian blood. The four-eyed creature lay dead, still bleeding profusely from dozens of different wounds.
The last on the list. The last culprit. Oh, he had died slowly. Only a true master would have been capable to prolong the bastard's life for that long despite the pain inflicted. And Thane was a true master of his art.
He had been trained to kill cleanly, but them, he let them linger.
He had finally avenged Irikah's murder.
He didn't feel better.
He didn't feel anything.
The drell was gone, the assassin was all that was left.
He was strangely empty, his only goal finally reached, leaving him purposeless. Kolyat was safe with his aunts and uncles. Thane didn't want his son to follow the path he had taken. As he wiped the blood off his hands and blade, he realized all he wanted was to join Irikah on Kalahira's shores.
His omnitool beeped with a new message from one of his regular contacts.
New target: Nassana Dantius
One last job, then.