The sea had never held much importance for Shepard. It was where the fish that kept dying in her quarters came from, and she had once had a fascinating conversation with Tali about what the quarians would wear for a beach party, but beyond that it was simply a large body of water—nothing more.
Until she met Thane Krios, that was. The drell had given her Arashu's protection, promised that there would be a light in her darkness. Hope where none seemed to remain.
I will await you across the sea.
She had scoffed, shaken her head, told him it wouldn't happen, that she wouldn't let it. A cure could be found, she was sure of it; it was all just a matter of waiting, bribing the Hanar, being a little creative—she was Commander Shepard, she made a career out of doing the impossible. After Ilos, after the Omega 4 Relay, a cure for one little drell was nothing. She would manage it, because watching her lover die of a lung disease after she had been painstakingly brought back to life was not only painful, it was insulting. Thane would live, and they would settle down somewhere in the desert, where Kolyat could visit and she could go on the occasional adventure.
It would have been perfect. She should have told him— he would have let out one of his rare, beautiful laughs, reply that he didn't like the idea of living with a sunburned siha.
Siha. She couldn't stand to think of the word—it made her heart leap and sink at the same time, made her stomach fill with butterflies and churn with nausea. He didn't want her in the room at first; with perfect drell memories, most loved ones stayed away to avoid the pain. She ignored it, held his hand and told him over and over again that she loved him. He had replied with the little strength he had, even cracking a smile. Near the end, he had touched her arm, asked, "Siha…?" and she had curled up next to him without a word, stroking his face and letting silent tears fall as his eyes closed.
And now here she was, sitting barefoot in the sand on Kahje, the water lapping her feet with her eyes closed, lost in memories. He would have been proud of her.
"Hey." The sand next to her shifted, and without opening her eyes she knew who had joined her.
"Kolyat." Nodding her head in greeting, Shepard opened her eyes, letting them linger on the younger drell. No tears, no shaking—his dark eyes, on the other hand, were filled with pain and, oddly enough, determination. He would get past this, as he got past his mother's death. He was finally growing up.
"You okay?"
"No." Shepard kept her eyes focused on the sea, watching the tide slowly come in. "I'm not okay, but I will be. Eventually."
Kolyat nodded, choosing to stare into the sand instead, his finger absently tracing a pattern. "There's talk about the battle with the Reapers. Rumor has it that you and your team are heading into the hoard, trying to install some sort of device to make them malfunction, give us a fighting chance."
"You're right. We're leaving in a few minutes, actually," She murmurs, eyes never leaving the water. "Everyone was allowed a chance to say goodbye. I volunteered to go last. This is mine."
Another nod. Then, a question.
"You're wearing his jacket. Why?"
Shepard turned to him slowly, sending him a ghost of a smile before her eyes gaze out at the sea once more.
"I promised I would bring him to the final battle."
I will await you across the sea.
My heart is already there.