A/N - Greetings to any who stop by.

This fic is more of character study of Thane than anything else. Naturally it is heavy on angst, flavored with a little romance and a nice portion of smut. I hope you will stay with me, as the chapters generally improve and lengthen as the story progresses. I tend to think of this fic as sort of a "slow burn," and it does heat up nicely.

"Returning" begins toward the end of Mass Effect and continues post-game around chapter 8. I have endeavored to write something primarily in-cannon, but for the most part I am not recreating scenes. Shep has a generic appearance here since I know we all have our own vision of her. As I started writing after my first playthrough, she is a Paragon Soldier.

While I initially planned at least four or five more chapters for this story, romanced-Thane's conclusion in Mass Effect 3 left a rather bad taste in my mouth, and I'm afraid I lost my enthusiasm to continue. I'm calling it complete at this time, though I may add more in the future. On a positive note, this story concludes in a good place right now, I think.

Much love and thanks to strangegibbon for the tremendous amount of time she has put into correcting my work and providing feedback.

Mass Effect is the property of Bioware; quotes belong to their respective owners. I make no money from this story.

...

"Who is the happy Warrior? Whose powers shed round her in the common strife a constant influence, a peculiar grace…" - adapted from "The Happy Warrior" by William Wordsworth

...

Thane squatted down, balancing his weight on his toes, back straight as always and hands clasped low before him, watching Shepard. He looked over his Siha carefully, reassuring himself that she had made it back to the Normandy uninjured.

Her armored legs were stretched out carelessly on the floor as she leaned back against the wall of the airlock, twisting her helmet off and letting it clatter to the floor. She sighed as her head thunked against the metal behind her, neck at an awkward angle, eyes closed and hair damp. She was still breathing hard from the final run and jump away from the imminent destruction of the derelict Reaper. Grunt remained standing, grim and unmoving on the other side of the damaged geth they had salvaged on the way out by throwing it directly through the airlock hatch.

Thane's chest constricted painfully as he pulled deep breaths as far into his lungs as he could manage. He did his best to ignore it; the discomfort was unimportant.

Shepard's eyes flicked open just as Thane felt the final blast of the Reaper's failure pushing the Normandy further into space. She searched his face for a moment before she looked down at the Geth, frowning, and he realized she was wondering whether she had made the right choice in bringing it aboard.

Thane did not doubt her. Shepard's instincts were infallible.

During their pursuit of his much-loved Kolyat, he had observed that she was thoughtful in communication and negotiation, preferring to talk her way through difficult circumstances where possible, turning to brute force only when she had exhausted other methods. Cautious when advancing into the danger of battle, she preferred to hang back with him as she examined the field. She would stay at his side before necessity or her frustration at her lesser sniping skills drove her forward and away from him, seeking out closer enemies with her assault rifle. Even where she acted quickly, her decisions were invariably correct.

A perfectly formed memory flashed before him.

She stops in front of the closed door, returning her favored Revenant to her back and prepares in its place the Cain. She pauses, wordless, focused, releasing the apparent tension in her frame and raising her weapon before moving decisively forward. The door opens revealing the housing of the Reaper core above and a walkway below it, where the disquieting, twisted figures of moaning husks careen toward us. She charges the Cain and releases it, the blast disabling the core and knocking the husks aside. A clear path to the downed Geth on the center platform remains.

Thane caught her eye again and offered a subtle nod. He felt a surprising thrill when she smiled broadly at him before resting back and closing her eyes again. He slipped back into memory.

The husks swarm the open floor before the dragon teeth ornamented with bodies ahead. Grunt rushes forward but she jumps back, alarmed, to crouch behind the crate nearest me, her shaking hands becoming steady again.

Thane considered this memory a moment. While she had behaved no differently in taking her place near him, she had drawn confidence from his presence. He realized Shepard had begun to trust him.

He knew Shepard was convinced of his abilities as a professional assassin or as a member of her combat team. She offered him little concrete direction as they worked together, expecting he would find the best way to help accomplish the goals she set or complement her actions, but her willingness to rely on him today seemed newly personal.

Shepard was at all times brave but he was aware that the husks disturbed her more than other enemies they had faced together. Perhaps it was due to their twisted, vaguely human faces and the awareness that most had been civilian colonists or crewmembers on peaceful ships or stations before they had been changed into mindless, suicidal puppets. She had recalled for him a nightmarish vision gifted to her by a Prothean beacon; perhaps this memory was what filled her with fear when she looked into their insentient eyes.

Thane had become her arm and he desired to defend her as she would herself, very likely more so given her willingness to put herself at risk to protect others. He would make her stronger in the face of her fears and her enemies; her cause was now his own. Her smiles and strange compassion for him had become a reward worth seeking out in a life he had previously found so distasteful and one she had bettered in helping him reconnect with his son.

This Siha was glorious he thought warmly, worthy of more than anything he could hope to offer her.

Thane stood with Shepard and Grunt as the decontamination cycle completed and the door to the Normandy proper opened.

"Grunt, help me with this thing," Shepard instructed as she struggled to lift the damaged Geth onto her good shoulder, her eyes focused on the odd patch of N7 armor welded to its exterior. Grunt easily hoisted the other side though Thane knew Grunt could carry himself if she had asked. He turned and started to move through the doorway when she called him back, yanking the Cerberus rifle they had found up into her palm and tossing it to him.

"Here," she grinned as he caught it. "Take that to Mordin for research. Looks like a nice piece of equipment - maybe we can get some useful tech off it for the rest of our sniper rifles. Grunt and I will deal with our new passenger. You can let me know later if Mordin thinks he can do something with it. We need all the upgrades we can get."

"Indeed," he answered with a crisp bow, heading toward the lab with the gun comfortably in hand.