Shepard woke up at sunrise when the automated shutters clanged shut. She dozed off and woke up again to the sound of rain beating against the window. She rose and dressed hastily, hoping she wasn't missing breakfast or anything else important. While she had no real obligations at the moment, years of military service made her reluctant to sleep in. She left her room, hoping she could remember the way back to the kitchen, and nearly ran into Garrus in the corridor.
"Hey." He put out one hand to catch her. In the other hand he was holding a steaming mug with a familiar aroma.
"Did you bring me coffee?" she asked, astonished.
"Yeah. I brought some down from the Normandy." His mandibles twitched anxiously. "I don't know if I made it right, but..."
She accepted the cup and drank eagerly. It was black and strong. Good enough. "It's great. Thanks."
"Good." He looked relieved. "I know you usually get up earlier, but I thought you could use the rest."
She smiled, even though she didn't feel very well rested, and put her free hand on his arm. "Thanks. You're the best."
He looked closely at her and frowned. "Are you all right?"
She'd never been very good at hiding things from him, even back on the first Normandy. Back then, being her subordinate would have restrained him from inquiring too closely. These days it was harder to cover. "I'm fine. I guess I didn't sleep that well." She drank her coffee.
"You can go right back to bed if you want to," he said.
She shook her head. "I'd rather have breakfast."
Breakfast turned out to be an informal affair, with food and drink set out in the estate's large kitchen. Several of the older relatives were standing as they ate, talking quietly to each other. Cephia was frying up... something... while also trying to keep Pella from running headlong into anyone as the girl dashed about with a toy cruiser. On seeing Shepard, she offered to make something fresh for her. Shepard looked at her harried expression and said she was happy to make her own. She was not a particularly good cook, but she could handle bacon and toast, which were easily provided. It was really a better start to the day than she'd feared.
Livia swept in just after breakfast, however, with a list of tasks to accomplish. She informed Shepard gravely that she had no idea what preparations Shepard wanted for her party, and Shepard found that everything from assigning rooms to the friends who were coming in for the wedding to planning the menu for that stage of the festivities was left to her. To complicate matters, the estate had only limited access to the extranet. Messages and queries were transmitted once or twice a day in bursts. Shepard wasn't entirely clear whether this was due to the general state of post-war communications technology on Palaven, or to the resources of the estate itself. She knew she should be grateful that the place had its own well and generator, so electricity and running water were fairly secure. She was grateful, but it was hard to adjust to having limited communications. So she started with making a list of everything she thought their guests might need. Given the state of affairs on Palaven, even finding appropriate sources for the arrangements was something of a challenge. With her list in order, she fired off messages to several turian suppliers, plus Liara, downloaded her incoming messages to her omni-tool, and turned the console over to Garrus.
She was glancing over her messages—newsy chatter from Liara and Tali, even though she'd seen them only a few days ago, and they'd be joining her on Palaven to help with the final preparations in a few weeks—when Garrus tensed and swore.
"What's the matter?" she asked.
He sighed. "Victus wants me to go to Cipritine. Something about being a liaison between krogan units that need to get off Palaven and turian command."
She raised an eyebrow. "I thought you took leave?"
"I did, but it's awkward to turn down a personal request from the turian councilor."
"Should I come with you?" The thought of some useful work to do made her feel a spark of interest, but also made her aware of how easily tired she still was.
"I don't think so... He's only requested me, and you don't have the same standing in the hierarchy. Plus, if I take the small skycar, I can get there and back faster. And you're still recovering."
"Do you have to go right away? We just got here," she pointed out, feeling more upset than she'd like at the prospect of being up here without him.
"I know, but..." He turned toward her and stopped short at whatever he saw on her face. "... I'll tell him I can't."
Shepard flinched. Now she was just being selfish, making him disregard a request from the councilor. And Victus something of a friend; more Garrus's friend than hers, honestly. "No, it's all right. You should go."
He hesitated, drumming his fingers on the desk. "I can tell you don't want me to go. I'll—"
"It's all right," she repeated. She got up from her chair and went over to him, rested her hands on his shoulders. She could see the anxiety and discomfort in his expression, the subtle tightness of his facial plates. "I mean, I'd prefer you were here, but I'll be fine. I'm not going to keep you from doing what you need to." She leaned down to press her brow against his.
His face cleared. "It should only be for a few days," he said. "Sol will help you out, if you need anything."
"She's going to love your volunteering her for things."
"She likes you," he countered. His eyes flicked to the side. "I should reply to Victus, so it goes out in the current message queue."
"Just one moment," she said, and kissed him, slowly and thoroughly. "There. Now you can send your message."
His eyes opened, a little unfocused. "Giving me some motivation to get the job done quickly?"
"Maybe a little. Remember, you promised me hiking. We should do that when you get back."
"I do remember," he said, firing off his message and closing down the console. "We'll definitely do that." He sighed. "Now I just need to tell Aunt Livia I'm leaving."
Shepard trailed around after him as he sought out his aunt and sister and said his goodbyes. (Demetrus, seated near Livia, gave Shepard a triumphant look when he heard that krogan were involved.) Livia took it with good grace, saying approving things about duty; Solana was far more irritated.
"Do you really have to?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.
"What, you want me to tell Councilor Victus no?"
Her eyes flicked to Shepard and back to Garrus. "No one can say you haven't put in your service."
"I'll be fine," Shepard put in. Even though she didn't really want him to go, now she felt vaguely nettled at the idea that she needed him here. She could handle a whole crowd of Vakarians.
It wasn't until after he'd gone, packing himself and one light bag into the tiny skycar, that she realized what really felt odd about this situation. This was the first time in her recollection that someone had specifically requested Garrus for a task and not her. She wasn't quite sure how to feel about that. Part of her was relieved that she wasn't completely essential to the fate of the galaxy, but some part of her felt a little left out, too. She also realized that she'd never gotten a straight answer from him about just what his current rank and status within the hierarchy were.
It was odd being at the estate without him. Especially in the afternoon. Turians ordinarily slept in multiple short bursts, so for a couple of hours she was the only person awake in a house full of sleeping turians. Garrus had spent so much time around humans, and Shepard in particular, that he'd adjusted his sleep schedule to more closely correspond to hers, but without him here, she was on her own. Since another of her messages had been from Miranda, reminding her to do her physical therapy, she found her way to the house gym and put herself through her paces.
People were beginning to stir again by the time she was done, and it was getting late in the afternoon, so she sought out Cephia in the kitchen and offered to make her own meal, or help out some other way. Cephia accepted gratefully. Shepard wondered, but didn't quite dare ask, why Cephia was apparently the house cook for the moment.
She heard a commotion from the front entrance, but was too busy chopping to go see what was up, so she was surprised when the kitchen door opened and an unfamiliar voice called, "So, you must be Commander Shepard. I hope you're making enough levo food for two."
Shepard looked up. The speaker was an asari she'd never seen before.
"Um... hi," Shepard said, wiping off her hands.
Cephia turned to face the newcomer. "Aspera! I didn't know you were coming."
Solana came in just behind the asari. "Shepard, this is our cousin, Aspera."
"Cousin," Shepard repeated, taking a good look. The asari was fairly tall, dressed in light, practical combat armor, and wore dark blue tattoos on the right side of her face that—yes—looked like a somewhat stylized version of Vakarian markings.
Aspera grinned and stuck out her hand. Shepard shook it, automatically, noting the strong grip and calluses of a soldier. "About two hundred years ago, a Vakarian had the poor taste to get involved with an asari commando, she had a daughter, and here I am. I'm not actually a clan member," she added. "I don't get a vote. I'm strictly here for moral support." She picked up part of the onion Shepard had been slicing and cheerfully ate it raw before Shepard could say a word.
Livia marched into the kitchen then, stiff and dignified, to regard the asari with a grim expression. "Aspera," she said forbiddingly.
"Livia! There you are. Good to see the old place is still in good shape."
Livia's eyes narrowed. "I keep it well," she said stiffly. "You can have your usual room, of course. I hope you won't disturb Commander Shepard."
"Oh, we're neighbors? Of course we are, over in the guest wing. I'll just go drop my bags and get settled in." She went breezing out. Livia heaved a deep sigh and paced slowly away.
Once she was gone, Shepard, left with Cephia and Solana, said, "Okay... what? Livia obviously hates Aspera, but she gets put up as a guest anyway?"
Solana said, "It's complicated."
"I think some sort of deal was made," Cephia added. "A couple of generations back. Aspera wouldn't push for whatever inheritance rights she was due from her father, in exchange for getting to stay on clan property whenever she liked."
"I think it may have been part of the terms of her father's will," said Sol. "She's with a commando unit these days, but she comes by for a visit every couple of years or so."
Aspera's presence took some of the attention off Shepard that evening. Although Livia kept glowering at the asari, several of the older males, including Demetrus, seemed to get along well with her. Aspera told a string of stories about her activities for the last year or two, cheerfully including Shepard in the conversation. It was all surprisingly pleasant.
Less pleasant was waking up in near-total darkness, sweating, heart hammering, mouth dry. It took Shepard a few moments to recognize where she was: still in her guest room. There was a gentle knocking at the door. Shepard hauled herself out of bed, flicked on the light, and opened it, blinking in the too-bright lights.
"Shepard?" Aspera looked at her seriously, blinking herself. "You all right? I heard you thrashing around in here."
"Bad dream," Shepard said. "Not a big deal." She couldn't quite piece the dream together. She remembered Harbinger's booming voice and the blare of attacking Reapers, but there'd also been something where Joker solemnly informed her he had a new synthetic body, and wasn't that just great? It was fading. Just a dream, she told herself, not a memory.
"Uh-huh," Aspera said. "Listen, you look like you could use a drink, and I've got a couple of bottles of Thessian rum in my room. Want to share?"
Shepard hesitated, but she didn't really want to try to go back to sleep. "Sure."
Aspera dragged in some extra pillows along with the rum, making the room's stiff chairs a lot more comfortable. The rum was good. Their conversation started off tentatively, exchanging stories about training and service, but eventually Aspera said, "Lay it on me, Shepard. You want to know something about the Vakarians? I'm the one to ask."
Shepard grinned. Might as well start with the big one. "Livia doesn't seem to like you very much."
Aspera laughed. "Livia... no. I was going to say she's just old and cranky, but no, she's never liked me very much. And now she really doesn't like that I'm the only person left who remembers what a brat she was when she was little."
"It must be weird, watching your cousins grow old while you're still in your maiden years."
Aspera shrugged. "A little. Asari have to figure out how to cope with these things. Some do it by just ignoring their non-asari family. Me, I'm stubborn. Maybe I got it from my dad, who knows. I keep coming back, I get to know each generation. And the current batch of young Vakarians, I like."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." She grinned. "Well, obviously, so do you. Tycus is kind of an idiot, but he means well, and he's good in a fight. Sol and Garrus are just excellent, all around, and Cephia has as big a heart as you'll find anywhere. They're a good lot. We get along pretty well."
Shepard refilled her glass. "Do you know why Cephia is all—" she waved her hand, vaguely. "Cooking, and housekeeping, and whatever else. It doesn't seem like the older relatives are actually incapable of taking care of themselves, so I don't quite get it."
Aspera took a drink. "Well, her husband just died," she said matter-of-factly.
"And?"
"Oh. Grieving turians tend to want to do shit. Keep busy. I talked to Cephia and I can see it. She's pouring all her grief into taking care of her family. She might be overdoing it a little, but that's not unusual."
"Huh. Humans tend to think someone in mourning should rest, or have time to themselves, or something."
"Asari tend to react that way, too. But no. Turians will throw themselves into work, or invent a project for themselves. A memorial for their lost one, sometimes. One advantage to that tendency right now is that there's a hell of a lot of work to be done. No shortage of fitting memorials." She hesitated, and then gave Shepard a very direct look. "Sometimes grieving turians will get themselves into something really stupid."
"Oh?" Shepard felt herself tense.
"Yeah." Her eyes fell. "I happened to be passing through Omega, must have been, oh, two years ago now."
Shepard swallowed. "Really?"
"Yup." After a moment, Aspera continued, "As you can imagine, I was pretty surprised to find a cousin there. Even more surprised when I found out what he was getting himself into. He had to talk pretty fast to convince me not to call Sol immediately."
"Why didn't you?" Shepard whispered.
Aspera leaned back in her chair and looked up at the ceiling. "Good question. I think it was mostly that he seemed so damn sure of himself. Burning with conviction. I told him to call me if he needed backup, and checked in a couple more times." She grimaced. "I was otherwise occupied when things went sour, unfortunately."
Shepard stared at the ceiling herself. Garrus still didn't like talking about Omega, and he'd been vague when she asked what took him there in the first place. She hadn't wanted to think it was... well, that it was about her. "You're saying he went to Omega because of me. Because of my death." She wondered if Solana had drawn the same conclusion.
"You said it, not me." She paused. "It does seem like a logical conclusion."
"I didn't want to think it was about that," said Shepard.
"Why, you'd rather think he makes a habit of running off on quixotic quests?"
Shepard raised an eyebrow. "Quixotic?"
"Shut up, I've read human literature. And answer the question."
"I don't take orders from you," Shepard grumbled, but she thought about it. "No. I don't know, I just... we weren't together then. We were friends, we were closer than commanders and subordinates usually are, but the whole squad was close. It's just weird to think I had that kind of effect on him, even then." It made her throat feel thick and funny, actually, the idea that he'd been mourning her for two years and then picked things up without missing a beat once she came back. "Why are you telling me this, anyway?"
"Because turians are crap at talking about their feelings."
"Garrus isn't that bad," she said, looking at her ring. "I'm kind of crap at talking about my feelings, too."
Aspera snorted. "Why am I not surprised? You're going to fit right in around here. But seriously, I thought you should know. That you've been important to him for a long time. Also, he is one of my favorite cousins, and if you break his heart, I will kick your ass. I don't care how famous you are."
Shepard laughed. "That's... actually very good to know. I'm not going to, though."
"Good." Aspera yawned and got to her feet. "Right, I'm going back to bed. Hope you sleep better this time around, Shepard."
