"Was that one of your assassinations?"
It is difficult, he finds, to maintain any sense of composure. Thane's hands ache with the urge to tremble, his heart burns for a relapse into the memory that lingers on the fringes of his consciousness. When he speaks, there is a heaviness in his voice, and it occurs to him that he has given far too much away. "Ah, yes. Perhaps we can discuss it later, I've wasted too much of your time."
A swell of emotion rises in his chest, the taste of it so long forgotten that he nearly falters, and he must clasp his hands together to keep them from shaking. Thankfully, blessedly, Shepard catches abruptness in his tone, senses that their conversation is over and simply nods to him, giving her standard goodbye, her eyes lingering a moment before she departs. For the life of him, Thane cannot bring himself to reply.
Only when the door to life support slides shut behind her does Thane allow himself to release the deep, shaking breath held in his dying lungs. They ache with the force of it, the dull throb of familiar pain only an annoyance as he takes in another breath. There is a name he wants to speak into the quiet, as if she could hear him from Kalahira's shores, as if saying it would bring her back again. But he feels as though he hasn't truly spoken in years.
He worries he's forgotten how.
The pressure in his lungs is absent, that is the first thing that occurs to him. There is warmth beneath him, scratching gently at his toes and his body feels...light. As if an endless weight that had strained his shoulders simply vanished, taken from him, pulled back by the sudden rushing of waves, by the cool waters that brush over his bared feet.
He sees the shores before he even opens his eyes, there is no doubt of where he is, and the innate knowledge fills him with a sense of insignificance as he tastes the sea on his tongue, as he hears eternity roaring in his ears. Thane stares out into the sprawling blue, and cannot recall how he arrived here, how he died. His last memory is of Shepard standing before him in Life Support, of her eyes and the intensity of them that almost hurts to behold, for they remind him so much of another that he finds himself constantly torn between the urge to draw closer and yet pull back.
Waves crash upon the shore, sea foam washing over his ankles as he allows the thoughts to simply drift away with the current. It does not matter now. Kalahira sings to him, her voice is the churning of the waves, her touch is the warm breeze that brushes his skin, he is home, at peace, truly.
Gentle footfalls interrupt his solitude and -Arashu save him- he knows those steps, knows the sound of them, the extra weight placed on the right leg from a childhood injury. They still, and Thane is all too aware of the one who stands behind him. It is with great awe, and even greater shame that he does not turn to face her.
But she has never allowed him to hide. "Thane." Her voice is a heavy stone that disturbs the waters of a stilled lake, she creates ripples and waves within him that echo throughout his spirit, that fill the cracks and crevices her death left behind. He turns to meet her, he cannot do anything but.
When he speaks her name, it is with the same reverence he gives to the goddess Arashu. The sight of her face, though never forgotten, strikes him so deeply that his knees begin to quake. "Irikah..." Thunder calls in the distance, Kalahira speaks, her voice somewhere far behind but he cannot hear her, does not care to. His entity, his soul, belongs only to the woman before him. "Irikah."
Trembling legs give beneath him, Thane falls just as he had before, just as he was always meant to. Weakened knees sink into wet sand, his vision blurring with tears as sunset colored eyes stare into his own, unblinking, unwavering.
She is stunning. Her scales match the crystal blue of the waves that rush over his thighs, she wears the holy black robes of a high priestess, and her eyes...they strike him as deeply as they had the first time, all those years ago within the scope.
His arms wrap around her hips, burying his face into the warmth of her belly as tears flow from him. He allows them to come, savors them, it is the most he has felt since her loss. "Irikah, Irikah-" The name is a prayer on his lips, it is all he knows here, all that can come to him, and it is only silenced by the touch of her fingers, gentle on the crown of his head.
"Thane."
It is a great effort to pull away from her, to look up into her eyes, he can barely see through his tears. Gentle fingers brush the water from his cheeks and the smile on her lips, for all its softness holds a weight that pains him. Here in this place where no suffering should exist, she still smiles at him with hesitancy. "I've died," he whispers, the words unbidden but freed nonetheless. "I have died and joined you on Kalahira's shores." The goddess must hear his voice, for thunder rumbles once again in the distance. Irikah's heavy smile does not falter. "No, you still live." Her voice is nearly lost in the whisper of the wind whipping through her robes. "I have been trying to reach you for many years."
His fingers slide over the black silk of her robes, savoring, memorizing the feel of them. "I do not understand, why now?" The smile falls from her lips, replaced by a heaviness that heaves weight onto his shoulders. "I could not find you before. You were gone." Gentle fingers trace nonsense patterns down the sides of his neck. "Your soul slept in the confines of your body. It is only now that you have awoken, and so it is only now that I have found you."
Guilt nearly overwhelms him, his hands grip at her robes, at her hips, he wants more than anything to press his face against her belly again, to simply hold her in his arms. But the crash of thunder grows louder now, clouds beginning to roll overhead, obscuring the sun, the skies. An urgency comes to her face, reflects deeply in her voice. She presses her palms into his shoulders, forcing him to gaze into her deep eyes. "Thane." His name on her lips nearly wretches a sob from his throat, but she does not allow him to lose focus. "Where is our son?"
Her question steals his breath, an ache travels through him, burns his skin, he feels the opening of old wounds in his reawakened soul. "Our son..." For all the emotion in them, there are no tears held in Irikah's eyes. He has never once seen her cry, this Siha. "Yes, where is our son? Where is Kolyat?"
Thunder crashes, booms above them as though Kalahira herself were asking him, accusing him. "I...Irikah, after your death..." But the words fall upon deaf ears, the intensity of her gaze does not allow for his reasons, his excuses, they never have. She sees the truth of him in a way that no other ever could, it was why he ran from her so often. He could not bare the reflection of himself in those eyes. "He is with your sister."
"He is not." His breath hitches. "How-?" There is worry there now, in those intense depths. "I cannot see him, Thane. I cannot watch over him." The hands upon his shoulders tighten, squeeze, and it almost destroys him to see the desperation in her face. "His soul has become disconnected."
For the first time since the sleep overtook him, he feels his heart lurch in his chest, and the very true rush of fear awakening his blood. "What..?"
Water drips onto his cheeks, and for a split second he thinks they are tears, but more begin to fall, and he finds the once blue skies churn with black as rain overtakes them. The flowing of her robes in the wind stills, weighed down by water and-Arashu-she is beautiful in the rain, she always has been.
"I know what plagues your soul." Her thumb brushes his lips, wipes the lingering water. "Be at peace, I forgive you for my death." It is only the strength of her hands that keep him steady, keep him from collapsing into the sand, lightening crackles overhead, but no storm could ever hope to match the agony those words bring. A sob chokes in his throat, heavy and hot.
The boom of thunder trembles the very ground, and as if beckoned the waves rise, crashing against his thighs, his chest. A panic comes to her and she grips his cheeks, forcing him to meet her gaze again. "I forgive you for my death, but understand this; You do not have much time left. If you fail our child, if you do not save him before you die, know that I will never forgive you. Know that I will curse your name, your soul, that you will not be worthy of Kalahira's domain."
She bows over him then, fierce sunset eyes close, so close. "Find our child, save him. If not for his own sake, if not for yourself, then for the love you bore me. For the life we lived, the life I lost. Swear it to me, here, among the goddess of the afterlife herself, swear it to me."
The ache in his heart nearly overwhelms him as he presses his hands atop her own, squeezing them tightly, he does not look away from her eyes, does not allow his voice to be carried away by the storm. "I swear it to you Irikah. Upon my soul. Should I not succeed then forever will I wander in darkness, refused the refuge of Kalahira's shores. I will find our son, and I will not pass from the world of the living while he is disconnected. I swear it to you. I swear it."
Deep eyes gaze into his own, past his body, beneath the flesh, staring into his very soul. The gentle smile that spreads across her lips is a wave of relief crashing against his bones. "I believe you." Irikah's lips meet his, and no memory can ever compare to the brush of them.
She pulls back from him, resting her palm upon his cheek, the touch is cool, soothing, he closes his eyes, pressing closer to her. "This meeting was not without its price. We shall not see each other again." Fear shocks through his body, he pulls back from her, eyes wide. "What? Irikah-" She presses her fingers to his lips, silencing him.
There is a wistfulness in her eyes, a deep love that penetrates the last of his sleeping defenses. "It is a difficult task you undertake. The wounds upon our son's soul are deep, they will not be easily mended. The Siha who awoke you, do not forsake her help." She smiles down at him, with a joy he has not seen in a long, long time. "Do not forsake her love."
Irikah's lips replace her fingers as Kalahira's waves rush between them, as her storm rages overhead, as her purifying rains soak them through and through. Their final kiss tastes of eternity, of endings, of beginnings. Promises.
"Farewell."
When he awakens it is with the taste of salt water on his lips. The tears that roll down his cheeks wet the cot beneath him as the hum of the Normandy replaces the roar of waves. The pressure in his lungs has returned, and each breath is as much of a condemnation as it is a joy. There is still time left, though not much, and he can still right his wrongs, but he must act quickly.
It takes all of twenty minutes to gather the information he seeks, and the knowledge of his son's whereabouts, of his actions, resonate so deeply that the sleep threatens to overtake him again. "The Siha who awoke you, do not forsake her help." His fingers do not tremble as he activates the communicator, but he is aware that his voice gives far too much away. "Ms. Chambers, please inform the commander that I request to speak to her as soon as she is available."
He closes the communication line and stands with a determination he has not felt in years. The door to his chambers opens not a moment later, Commander Shepard herself approaches him with lines of worry that crease across her forehead. "Thane. You wanted to see me?"
"Do not forsake her love."
Yes. But first, there is an oath he must keep.
-END-