Shepard has revealed her feelings. Tender, yet strong feelings that she holds for none other than me.
I deny to her –with all the pain in my spirit- the reprieve, the happiness she so deserves. With lies I deny, hiding behind a mask of righteousness, I refuse her. As always, she shows no sign of hurt, no proof that underneath that armor lies a fragile human being with normal wants and needs. As she leaves the observation deck and the door closes behind her, I fall to my knees.
For the first time in decades, I cry. Not for me, but for her. I know better than to not see past Shepard, hero of the citadel. She has never asked for anything in return for all the things she has done for this galaxy. Today I have taken from her more than anyone or anything could.
This is for her own good though; she does not know what she is asking for. How can I tell her that I no longer am what she sees, how can I even accept it myself? That as my boot sank into my daughter's skull, every inch it took away from her, so it did from me.
There once was an Asari Justicar named Samara. She is no more.
I love you Shepard, how could I not? Who could escape your all-encompassing heart, the charms of your bravery, akin to those knights in shining armor of Earth's old lore. I do love you, more than anything in this universe. Alas, these words that come from an empty husk are meaningless. There is nothing to back them up or hold them strong against adversity. You are better off without me.
Many others seek your attentions, though you seem to not take notice. You will not be left alone, and even if you were, you will be no more lonely than with me at your side. It would be taking more from you if I accept your offering, than if I disillusion you now.
May Athame's grace cover the path ahead of you with many joys, champion of the galaxy.