Authors Note: Song credit to Savatage, 'Surrender'.
Chapter 6:
Goddess, it's about time! Liara sighed. The twins had finally fallen asleep, the baby monitor application on her omni-showed the both snoozing peacefully. They're so angelic when they're asleep, she thought to herself. Then she winced as she massaged a nipple, or when they're not biting me. Liara sighed again, Shepard was always better at getting Samara to sleep.
The young Asari Matron frowned. She was doing better this year. A year ago today, on the eve of the first anniversary of Shepard's death, she was a near-catatonic wreck. Two wailing newborns and a twenty-one year old daughter who was becoming more and estranged from her made coming to grips with her beloved's suicide all the more impossible.
She remembered going through several different emotions in those early days, especially immediately following Victoria's death. Apparently the humans once thought there were actually several discrete stages of grief; not that she had experienced all of them, or in the correct order. Still, aside from the near constant and crushing depression brought on by her loss, there were a few noticeable other emotions she had become acquainted with.
For a few, fleeting, moments she had denied that it was even possible that Shepard would kill herself. They had everything; a family, friends, a home, and peace. They were so in love. They were each other; an indescribable whole, greater than the sum of their parts. It was glorious. She couldn't, she didn't, Victoria would never, this must be a mistake, those were the thoughts. She would not accept what the two Alliance officers standing in her foyer were telling her. But that had all ended when they had laid Victoria's casket at the center of the Alliance Parliament House's rotunda. In that moment, she knew. She was alone, Victoria had left her, and it made her mad.
Liara liked to think of herself as compassionate and slow to anger; even keeled, as the humans would say. She had her Shadow Broker persona which could be brutal and calculating, surely, but she never acted capriciously or vindictively. However, when she thought about Victoria just leaving, abandoning, them like she did; Liara ground her teeth at the thought. She spent the rest of the memorial service in such a rage, she hardly remembered it. She did, however, remember looking at Samara with fury in her eyes. She sighed again, oh my darling Samara, I'm so sorry how I've treated you.
When Liara wasn't lost in her grief she could look at it objectively. She loved Samara, completely and unequivocally. Any animosity she directed towards her first-born was purely a function of the loss she was still coming to grips with. Samara reminded her so much of Shepard. When she looked at her, she saw Victoria. She didn't blame her for her death, how could she? Though, she feared that Samara might perceive it as such. She knows how much I love her, right? Liara thought to herself.
Liara clenched and unclenched her fists, if she doesn't, she needs to, she thought to herself. I've waited too long to make sure she knows how much I love her. I need to overcome this, I owe it to her. Goddess, I owe it to Shepard. She did what she did because she thought it would help, I'll be damned if I allow things to get worse for our baby.
She strode gracefully about the house, but could not find Samara. Liara checked her omni-tool again; the twins were still asleep, as she stepped outside and walked towards the air-car garage. "Samara, sweetie?" she called out as she entered the garage. Over the past two years Samara had a habit of disappearing for hours, sometimes a day or two at a time; she suspected that she came here to be alone. The guest house would be more comfortable, she thought. Though, that conjures too many memories of Kelly and Aethyta.
"Samara?" She was nowhere to be seen. She walked past the drum kit towards an easel with a cloth draped over it. Oh, she loved the drums so much, Liara thought. She smiled at how much joy both Samara and Victoria took in music. Despite giving it up for a few years, Samara had very recently taken it back up; she even got some new equipment. She was so heartbroken when The Blueberry Jam's bassist moved back to Earth for college, she frowned slightly, and found out she actually preferred human men to Asari. She remembered them being such a cute couple, even if her baby was too young to be dating anyone in the first place. Shepard had actually cleaned her weapons at the breakfast nook's table the first night Samara brought her home. She chuckled at the memory, especially since Shepard had taken the time to explain the cliché.
She directed her attention towards the easel. Gently lifting the cloth cover she inhaled sharply. The painting was a nearly complete true-to-life portrait of the Matriarch Aethyta and her bondmate Kelly Chambers. They embraced tenderly, eyes closed, gentle smiles on their faces. Liara's heart ached for more lost family. Then it hurt even more when she realized how bad it must have been for Samara. Her little girl loved her grandfather. She and Kelly were like an additional set of parents for her. Samara had taken the Matriarch's death poorly, but what happened to Kelly was so much worse. She saw her die! Liara lamented to herself.
Liara felt even worse about how she had treated Samara over the past two years. You didn't deserve any of it, she thought, I just didn't know how to cope, and there was no one else for you to lean on. I failed you. The grief washed over her again. It just hurt so much to be near you. You're so much like her. She missed Shepard so much, and she felt so guilty for how she had treated their daughter after her death.
She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and bowed her head. That stops today. Samara needs my love, not anger, not detachment. Shepard isn't here for us anymore, but I'm going to be there for Samara. She clenched her jaw with resolve and opened her eyes. Then she noticed the foot locker. Isn't that Shepard's locker from Normandy? She glided towards it, gently hiked up her robes, and kneeled before the old battered container. The clasp was unlocked so she opened it and looked inside.
Liara smiled at the contents. The inside of the lid was covered with photographs of Victoria and her daughter. Various poses, different locales, they looked so happy together. Then Liara's gaze drifted towards a blood-spattered golden gorget. She squeezed her eyes shut, Shepard said Samara had worn the Justicar's gorget in the alley in New Orleans. Despite all that happened, she couldn't bear to throw it away. She shook her head and noticed a large piece of folded parchment. Liara took it up in her delicate blue hands and unfolded it. One side had printed music, the human chromatic scale that Samara favored. There were some lyrics and copyright information scrawled on it as well.
…Children and mirrors have no memory,
They reflect us for that is all they see,
They are the us that is still yet to be,
And so we carry on…
Liara cocked an eyebrow at the meaning, and then she flipped the parchment to the other side. She gasped. Liara looked at the sketch of what would have become another one of Samara's true-to-life paintings. Victoria Shepard stood on the craggy top of a mountain. Her hair billowed in wind. Her head was tipped back and her arms spread as if she were about to dive off the edge. Liara's pulse quickened. Next to her, in a similar pose, with a similar look of peaceful acceptance on her face, was their daughter Samara T'soni.
Liara trembled; she quickly flipped the paper over again and read the rest of the song's lyrics. Her jaw dropped with sudden realization. The sudden change in habits, taking up music and art again, she could have sworn she was smiling last time she saw Samara; it was out of character for all of the aloofness over the past year. A terrible conclusion was forming in Liara's mind, tenuous at first; she dared not fully accept it. Then she noticed the small black polymer case that sat below the parchment. She opened the already unlocked lid. The inside was lined with foam; a pistol was conspicuously missing from the pistol-shaped foam cut-out. Oh goddess! Samara! Baby, no!
Liara scrambled to her feet and activated her omni-tool. Please no!
