A/N: I put my nod to Kill Bill in here. I frickin' love that movie, by the way. I actually started a fanfic of that too, way back in the day. If I ever get it finished and polished up, I may even put it up here. Who knows?
The DNA sample secure, Shepard immediately turned her mind to exit strategy. Kasumi had to have enough now for her voice-print, and all Shepard wanted to do was get out of this lip-lock, off this sofa and out of this fucking room. Snapping his neck was looking very much like a viable option when she heard an ominous and unmistakable click.
She drew back every so slowly at the feel of metal against her temple, her eyes first landing on Hock's face. The man looked smug, smiling faintly. From there her gaze shifted toward the pistol in his hand.
It must have been hidden in the crease of the sofa. Now, it was planted quite firmly to her temple, his finger on the trigger. She could only just see part of the weapon but it looked like a Harvestman .2. They had goddamn hair triggers. If he so much as twitched her brains would be gone.
As such, she didn't dare make any sudden movements. No matter what she did he would have her down before the motion even halfway began.
"What's this?" she asked, feigning wary confusion.
"It's a gun, Ms. Goto," Hock replied. "I'm sure a 'merc' like you is quite familiar with them."
"I don't understand," Shepard said slowly. "Goto…I think you have me confused with someone else-"
"Do I?" he asked amiably. "Let's consider the facts, shall we? I know you've been itching to figure a way into my vault, ever since your partner met a rather sticky end. I also knew that throwing a party like this one would be bait that you'd not be able to resist. I'm not a fool, Ms. Goto. This party was very specifically arranged. Everyone I invited, every person in the building down to the last hired waiter, is someone I've met in person before. I was very careful not to invite someone if I'd never worked directly with them, shaken their hand. I knew that should a stranger show up, it would be you. And sure enough, here you are."
"Hock, listen to me," Shepard said carefully. "I am not this…Goto. First off, that's a Japanese name…do I look Japanese to you?"
"No," he replied. "And how many other aliases have you used in the past? How many other misleading names to keep the authorities and…people like me…from tracking you down after our most valuable of valuables disappear? Besides, I once knew a Japanese man named Robert Carlisle…names mean nothing. Surely you knew I would see in a heart-beat that you were no merc. Soft hands like that, they're more suited for lifting other people's property, don't you think?"
Keeping the gun to her head he reached into his pocket, came out with a tiny device. She knew what it was. Black-market tech based on Alliance Department of Justice devices. It was a miniature truth-scan. Aimed at her eyes, it would measure the tiniest fluctuations in her capillary and pupilary dilation, register the tiniest nuanced changes of respiration. Unless the subject was extremely well trained there was no way to lie to the scanner, and even then it was hit or miss at best.
As he'd reached into his pocket, he'd shifted the gun off her temple. It never left her skin, never gave her an opening, but it moved enough that she caught a better look at it. It was definitely a Harvestman .2. Besides having the hair trigger the concussive force would be enough to not only evacuate her grey matter completely but remove most of her skull. At this close of a range, there was not the slimmest hope of surviving.
Then she saw something else, and fought not to smile. The side of the gun she could see included the safety. As Hock was powering up his little truth-scan, the switch ever so slowly edged over into the 'on' position.
Thank you, Kasumi.
"You know what this is?" Hock said, holding the small device up in front of her face.
"Of course."
"So, I'm going to ask you a question, and after you answer, this thing is going to tell me you're lying, and then I'm going to shoot you."
"And if I'm not lying?"
"Then we will have to discuss who you really are and why you are at my party when I've never before shaken your hand…and in the end, I may just shoot you anyway."
"Comforting," she mumbled. He smiled, aiming the device at her eyes.
"Are you Kasumi Goto?" he asked.
"No," she replied evenly.
{Truth. Truth,} the little device declared in an obnoxious, almost gnomish little voice. Hock blinked, genuinely startled.
"You're really not Kasumi Goto?" he asked, as he lowered the device, staring at her.
"No," Shepard said with a grin. Her fist lashed up, cracking into his jaw. He reeled back, tumbling straight off the end of the armless sofa and crashing to the floor. Rising she grinned at him, eyes flashing in eager deadliness. "I'm Commander fucking Shepard."
When the hit had connected she'd heard the impotent click of the pistol as he'd reflexively pulled the trigger. Though taken by surprise and doubtlessly still trying to clear stars from his eyes, Hock was not stupid. He still had a hold of the pistol, and was reaching for the safety as Shepard got to her feet and stalked over. Suddenly, the weapon ripped out of his grip and sailed away.
"What?" he gaped, then stared at the small thief that shimmered into view.
"I'm Kasumi Goto," she announced, and kicked him in the head.
As he reeled, Shepard was on him. Crouching she shoved him over onto his stomach, and as he lifted his head to try and struggle her off, she palmed the back of his skull and bounced his face against the hard floor. Instantly he slumped, unconscious.
Turning, Shepard yanked the decorative cloth off the coffee table and tore it down the middle, hauling his arms back and binding them together.
"Thanks for putting that safety on," Shepard said as she worked. "You ok?"
"I'm fine," Kasumi said. "I didn't have to kiss the bastard."
"Yeah, you are going to be spending the next thirty years making that one up to me," Shepard grumbled. Snatching hold of the man's legs she hauled his ankles up, binding them with a length of cloth directly to his wrists, cinching both tight enough he'd likely lose circulation.
"He's going to be out for a while but we need to move quick," Shepard said, getting to her feet and snatching up her discarded shoes. "You have what you need for the vault?"
"Everything but the password," Kasumi confirmed.
"I'll get back down to the party," Shepard told her. "Go. Look fast. If fortune favors us we'll be in and on our way back to the Normandy by the time handsome here opens his eyes again."
Kasumi nodded, striding toward the door. A breath before she shimmered back into invisibility she looked back, eyes fixed on Hock's limp form. The hatred in them was palpable.
After she'd vanished, Shepard thumped the back of the limp man's head. "You're lucky," she growled at him. "I don't kill unconscious, unarmed men, and unlike you, Kasumi is no murderer. Be thankful we spared your life. The next time you hold a gun on me, you won't be so fortunate."
Hooking him by the truss, she dragged him out of the sunken living room and into the bedroom, dropping him down on the floor again, out of sight of the door should anyone enter. Returning to the living room she quickly straightened everything up, cleaning the small spot of blood he'd left on the ground, leaving no trace that anything untoward had happened.
Snatching up her shoes, she trotted to the door and out into the corridor, only slowing as she reached the stairs. Hopping from one foot to the other she slipped her shoes back on, then forced herself to walk calmly and sedately down the steps and back into the oblivious party.
{I have the password, Shep,} Kasumi breathed hastily into her ear, only moments later. {Meet me down at the vault.}
Thank God, this was all almost over. Unlike Kasumi, she could not turn invisible, but even so it only took Shepard a moment to sleep unseen into the small stairwell. Once she was out of sight of any prying eyes, she immediately took off her shoes again and padded swiftly down the steps barefoot.
The vault had a small anteroom before the actual door. It was here that the statue of Saren had been delivered, along with several other tributes, waiting for the end of the party when Hock would be able to direct their movement inside.
Kasumi, visible as she had already taken care of the security cameras, was working at the console. As Shepard stepped in, she half turned. "I should have killed that bastard, Shep."
"You're not a murderer, Kasumi," Shepard replied gently. The thief nodded faintly, then turned back to her work.
"This is going to take me just a moment. Might as well get dressed."
Shepard grinned. "I have been waiting all goddamn night for you to say that."
Tossing her heels aside, Shepard went to the statue and touched a corner of the marble base. The DNA thumbprint scan hidden there accepted her ident, and the drawer slid open.
"There's my babies," Shepard murmured as her armor and weapons came into view. "Mama missed you."
Not bothering with the fastens, Shepard straightened and merely gripped the side of her dress with both hands, tearing it down from collar to hem. Kasumi didn't look around but she knew what that sound meant.
"Hey, that cost a lot you know," she teased.
"So will the vaccinations I need because I kissed that fucker," Shepard snorted back, casting the torn garment aside. Reaching into the drawer she pulled out a short body suit and pulled it on, then grabbed her armor. "Did I tell you about the time a Thorian thrall vomited right in my mouth? Yeah. I'd much rather have done that again."
Hard-suit on, proper heavy boots fastened, weapons-pack locked into place and ready to go, Shepard tugged the comb out of her hair and slipped it into a pouch, along with the necklace and diamond earrings. Those really were expensive, and she had no doubt Kasumi wanted them back.
Fastening the pouch to her belt she drew her hair back, tying it up as she looked over at the thief. "We about ready?"
"All that's needed is the password," Kasumi said, aiming her omni-tool at the mike a breath before Hock's voice spoke.
"Perugia."
"Bingo," Kasumi grinned as the door's holographic interface went from lockdown red to accessible green.
"Good, let's get in and get out."
The women headed into the vault, Shepard drawing her pistol as they did, just in case Hock had mechs or something just as nasty guarding the place from the inside.
A short corridor led through another door, down a long and winding set of stairs, then through an archway into the vault proper. Shepard couldn't help the low whistle as they passed within. Her first look at Hock's vault was not at all what she had been expecting.
The room was huge, nearly the size of the house they had just left. Less like entering a vault and more like stepping into a museum, each piece seemed to have its own display, each gigantic statue or sculpture its own plinth. Shepard was no art connoisseur, but even she could spot works from every culture, including asari, krogan, hanar, drell, and human.
Hers was not the only awe as they moved carefully into the stadium-sized space. Kasumi's eyes were alight with an entire galaxy of stars.
"Shepard, this is…I cannot believe what I'm seeing," she whispered. "This…this painting, this is the original asari work Se Vitataska…it is a thousand years old, and has been lost for six centuries. How did Hock manage to get hold of it? And this sculpture, its krogan…"
"So?" Shepard asked, peering up at the ugly thing.
"Since when have you ever heard of a krogan artist?" Kasumi challenged with a smile. "Come on. Lovely as all this is we need to focus. Keiji's greybox has to be here somewhere."
"It's going to take hours to look for it in here," Shepard said.
"No, here. Tune your omni-tool to this frequency…" Kasumi instructed, displaying her own. "The box transmits a faint electromagnetic signature. Keep the tool lit, and if you pass within five meters of that signature it will alert you."
"Good, you take the left side of the room, I'll take the-"
Shepard broke off, her eyes going wide as the two women entered the main aisle and caught sight of what was dominating the far end. This particular artifact she needed no help to identify. "That's…that's not possible…"
Kasumi gasped as well. "How did…how did Hock get Lady Liberty's head?"
The original Statue of Liberty, which sat for many centuries at the entrance to the harbor in New York, had been destroyed in a massive earthquake and tsunami that had struck four years before Shepard's birth. Most of the classic Manhattan coastline had to be rebuilt, and most of the statue itself, salvaged from the frigid waters of the Atlantic where it had been swept, was irreparable. What pieces were saved…the torch, part of the lower torso and base…were on display at the Smithsonian. A new statue had been commissioned and placed in Liberty's old spot. The head, however, had never been located…at least not by honest men, apparently.
Now it stood, dominating the far end of the vault, regarding the two intruding women with the same soulful, implacable expression Liberty had worn since she was first forged. Her crown was damaged and eroded some, cracks lining her discolored face, but other than that she was remarkably intact.
"We can't leave her here, Shep," Kasumi said.
"She won't fit on the Normandy," Shepard pointed out. "We'll send her location data to Anderson and the Alliance. They probably won't risk an attempt at a retrieval but it's the best we can do. C'mon, we really have to move."
Splitting up the pair began to work their way through the room, going as quickly as they dared, listening for any tell-tale beep that would signify the greybox's location.
As she neared the end of her section, some tense minutes later, the beep finally sounded from Shepard's omni-tool.
"Kasumi," she called. "I found it. Over here."
The thief appeared a few moments later, just as Shepard narrowed in on a small case.
"The greybox has to be inside," she said as she powered down her omni-tool and looked over at her companion. Then she blinked.
"Wait, where'd the swords come from?"
Kasumi had a pair of katana strapped to her back that were most certainly not there just a few minutes ago. The woman's expression was stern as she met Shepard's gaze.
"These are Hattori Hānzo swords, Shepard. Probably the last two in existence in the entire galaxy. I may not be able to rescue Lady Liberty but these most certainly are not getting touched by that bastard's hands again."
Shepard shrugged. She had no idea who Hattori Hānzo was but so long as the swords didn't hinder them, she had no argument. She gestured at the case. "It's signaling his greybox is in here."
Moving over, Kasumi unbuckled the case and opened it. Within was a computer interface. She scanned it, then nodded. "This is it. The chip itself is no larger than a grain of rice. He's managed to integrate it into the interface. He's obviously been trying to crack it. Looks like he's been unsuccessful."
Plucking the interface from the case her fingers lightly stroked over it a moment, before she secreted it away. "All right. Let's get out of here."
"We can't go back out through the party," Shepard said as they strode for the main aisle. "We-"
Alarms. Just the sound the pair didn't want to hear. The second sound they didn't want to hear, the heavy latching of blast-proof security doors dropping down, followed a moment later.
"Fuck!" Shepard spat as the vault darkened, a face appearing hovering overhead.
Hock looked a bit the worse for wear. His eyes and nose were swollen and bruised, and his glare was pure fury.
"Ms. Goto, I would commend you but I'm a bit too put out for even that," he announced. "I have a full security detail on their way to put an end to your irritating little endeavor and to cut that greybox out of your pretty little head. As for your friend…"
His virtual gaze shifted to Shepard, filled with venom. "You may have looked stunning in that dress, whoever you are, but one thing is for certain. When I am done, you will not be leaving behind a pretty corpse."
"Good luck with that," Shepard glared. "Oh, and you're a shitty kisser."
He scowled, then vanished as they heard another door open, thundering boot-steps rushing their way. Shepard drew out her assault rifle and ratcheted a thermal clip into place, a feral grin appearing.
"Good. I've been wanting to kill something all night."
Darkness had fallen upon the colony but the brilliant light of the moons, combined with the spot-lights on the cliff-side, winked off the hovering gun-ship with almost icy delight. Shepard, out of breath, watched from beneath as Kasumi launched into the air, sailing overhead as if she were born with wings. When she landed on the gun-ship's windscreen, Hock reacted in surprise, making the vehicle duck back a little, its nose dipping toward the ground. A breath later and the entire vehicle seemed to flash in a wash of energy as Kasumi disabled its shields.
Leaping from the gunship's nose, she sailed backward in a lazily graceful flip, then landed in a crouch almost directly at Shepard's feet.
"Oh, you're so teaching me that," Shepard stated, suitably impressed. She lifted the salvaged rocket-launcher one of the guards had been so kind to donate to their cause up to her shoulder. Even as Hock reoriented the ship, its guns swinging toward them, she fired.
With no shields, already damaged, the gunship dissolved in a heavy belch of fire and raining metal. Kasumi straightened to her feet, watching the twisted ball of destruction plummet, taking whatever remained of Hock with it past the cliff-side and then down into the sea.
She closed her eyes only a moment, as Shepard dropped the spent launcher and wiped escaped strands of hair from her face. When the commander's comforting hand landed on her shoulder, Kasumi opened her eyes again, then turned and walked over to one of the shipping crates scattered over the flight pad, sitting down.
Shepard signaled the Normandy to send the shuttle, then went over and sat down beside her. Both women regarded the stars a moment before Shepard looked at the thief.
"Good party," she smirked.
Kasumi chuckled, glancing at her. "Really? Heels, and a dress, and Hock kissing you? That's your idea of a good party?"
"Well, no," Shepard replied. "But the part where I got to shoot a lot of assholes and blow holes in some reinforced walls was kind of fun."
She grinned, and Kasumi smiled back. Leaning to the side slightly, Shepard lightly bumped her shoulder against her friend's.
"Thank you, Shepard," Kasumi said after another moment. "I couldn't have done this without you."
"Oh, I know," Shepard teased, then sobered. "You're welcome, Kasumi."
"I swear to you. I will do everything I can to find Dr. T'Soni for you," Kasumi promised. "I will make all of this up to you."
"Honestly, I'm not keeping score," Shepard told her. "And I know you will. Despite your penchant for kleptomania, you're pretty ok, Goto."
"Well, despite your foul-mouth and that strange way you get really excited when mercs explode, you're not so bad yourself," Kasumi laughed. Then she canted her head. "Do you really want me to teach you that? What I did?"
"Fuck yeah," Shepard grinned. "I was never one for martial arts. Boxing is more my speed, you know? I'm kind of blunt like that. I like to walk up and punch. But what you were doing…it was like dancing, like you were weightless. You didn't just fight, you flowed. I'd love to be able to do that."
"I'll tell you what," Kasumi said. "I will teach you how to fight like that, if you teach me how to box."
Shepard lifted a brow, then offered her hand. "Fucking done."
Kasumi took the hand and nodded, before she reached behind her back. The two Hānzo swords she'd liberated from the vault were still there. Unstrapping one she held it in her hands. The moonlight shone off the wooden sheath, making it glimmer like polished satin. The handle was bound in black, leaving a pattern of golden diamonds, and etched in gold at the hilt was a bird with wings outspread.
"Then you will need this," she said, and passed the sword to Shepard.
"Really?" Shepard asked, taking it carefully. "You're giving me this?"
"Hānzo only forged swords for the greatest and most honorable of samurai. It was said if a Hānzo sword was ever bared in combat and held in the hand of anyone but a worthy warrior, it would shatter before allowing itself to be used. I'm pretty sure you qualify as a worthy warrior."
"I'm…I don't know what to say, Kasumi. Thank you."
Kasumi inclined her head in a slight bow, smiling. "That one is especially fitting for you, I think. That bird on the hilt is a phoenix, returning to life from the fires that consumed it. A path you followed as well, most literally, and you bring your fury. You are Oni no Shepard."
"Oni no Shepard…?"
"Oni means demon, or devil. In old times it was even used to refer to monsters that came from the stars, outer space. Fitting, don't you agree? Devil Shepard. That is how I think of you. You have returned to life to fight like the devil among the stars."
"Huh," Shepard murmured, looking over the sword again for a moment. As she heard the sound of the approaching shuttle, she looked upward, watching as the vehicle lowered from the sky. "Well, right now, this devil wants a bath, a stiff drink, and a good cigar," she said.
"I hear that," Kasumi agreed.
As the shuttle landed, Shepard gestured at the other girl, indicating the computer interface containing Keiji's greybox. "You going to access that?"
"Yes," Kasumi replied. "In…maybe in a day or two, when I'm ready."
Shepard nodded in understanding, once again clapping the girl on her shoulder as they got to their feet and headed for the vehicle that would take them home.
Eír's footsteps along the hall sounded empty and ominous to her ears. Here, there was not the green beauty of the athenaeum…only the harsh, hot reality of krogan architecture, grim and battered by time and fury.
Fury was what she was afraid of as she approached the door to the rooms she shared with Gellian. Her resolve, which had been so firm just a few short hours ago, was crumbling into the hesitant uncertainty of a child once again.
Everything else aside, she loved Gellian. She was the only mother Eír had ever known. Even in her anger, the thought of seeing disappointment in the woman's eyes cut Eír deeply. She didn't want Gellian to be hurt, she just wanted her to…well, to understand.
The krogan boys had not yet returned from their hunt, though they were on their way. The varren was the largest trophy that Eír and Shrive had been able to bag. If the boys came back with anything larger or more dangerous, they would be the clear victors.
The status and prestige was not of concern to Eír of course but she prayed that Thug had done well. She knew that it was important to him, important that the other krogan saw him as strong, as worthy as any of their number.
She reached the door, pausing outside of it. Shrive had offered to accompany her but Eír had refused, insisting this was something she needed to do on her own.
Taking a deep breath, she strode into the room.
Gellian was seated at her desk, and though Eír had been gone only a few days it looked like the woman had aged years. Her blonde hair was limp, more gray than blonde. Always thin and sickly in appearance, she looked almost skeletal, her skin an unhealthy shade of yellow. Eír's determination vanished in sudden alarmed concern.
"Mother?"
Jolting a little as if out of surprise, Gellian's eyes shifted to the girl standing there, gaping at her.
"3.5 meters," she mumbled, glazed. "Eír…77 allele malformations to keratin structure-"
Her alarm now almost full panic, Eír ran forward. As she drew closer she could see the scattered vials and bottles both on the desk and littered around the floor. Grasping hold of Gellian she gasped, "How long have you been reciting?"
"The solar cycle of Ambrose lasts 2.77 Earth min… Eír. You are here?"
"I am here! How long have you been reciting?"
"L-last night…I think…" Gellian's eyes shifted rapidly from side to side, as if reading swiftly scrolling text. "They don't work…they're not working."
Her bony hand reached out for a vial, only to fumble and knock it off the desk. "It's a compound of thyroxizine and rebulitrol hydrocynide R2N37H…"
Eír knew what was happening. She knew that Gellian's health had been delicate the last few weeks but she had not expected this. She was on the verge of a catastrophic mental breakdown and the chemical measures she'd used her entire life to prevent it were no longer working.
"I've got you, Mother," Eír gasped, sliding her arms around the human woman and lifting her easily, cradling her close. "We'll get you help!"
As she rushed out of the room, she could feel tears heating her eyes. This was all her fault, punishment for what she'd been about to do. She had been going to tell Gellian that she was going to live her own life, make her own choices. That she was not going to kill Shrive, now or ever. That Gellian's hate-filled quest to destroy Shepard was not her own. Shepard had done horrible things, yes…but Shrive had told her she could not let her hatred dictate her heart, nor could she allow her mother's hatred to do the same.
But now this. Some unseen force, some power that held sway over the courses of the universe, must have heard or felt her defiance and was now punishing her, destroying Gellian for Eír's sins.
Moving fast, Eír had not yet gotten downstairs to the clan's small medical room when Gellian's constant soft murmurings turned more rapid, the woman spitting out meaningless information as fast as she could speak, her eyes rolling back and forth beneath their half-closed lids. Eír was sobbing as she reached the ground floor, only to spot a welcome face.
"Shrive!" she cried, and the girl turned around, gaping at her before rushing over.
"What's happened?"
"Mother…she's dying…" Eír gasped. Fearing the girl's emotional state would lead her to drop the human woman, Shrive claimed her out of Eír's arms. The pair ran the rest of the way to the medic, an asari matron named Linai. In service to the matriarch the woman had stepped in as the clan's official doctor. Larger clans could boast their own krogan medics, but they were a rarity that Dundrin had not been blessed with.
Linai directed Shrive to lay the human woman down on the bio-bed and swiftly turned on the scans. Instantly a three dimensional representation of the woman's brain appeared over the holographic pad.
There was no familiar shape or contour to it. Gellian had been born with a severely deformed organ to begin with, and the image that hovered there now would only have been recognizable to trained human doctors as a human brain. Shaped almost like an ovoid donut, the weird tangles of gray matter all but hovered over the normally shaped cerebellum and medulla oblongata.
Every inch of it was aglow with a riot of bright reds, oranges, yellows and whites, each color made up of a million different tiny dots all flashing madly out of sync.
Gellian was rambling so fast her words were nearly incomprehensible, her breath wheezing and driving out sounds on inhales as well as exhales.
Linai's expression was grim, her brows knit as she regarded the scan. "She's in a full mental cascade seizure," she murmured, then looked at Shrive. "I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do. Her brain is in rapid overload. There is no way to stop it."
"No!" Eír screamed furiously, tearing away from Shrive's restraining hand and going to Gellian's side. As she bent over the woman, hands pressing to her thin cheeks, the scan flashed to alarmed static, unable to differentiate the information overload a second presence caused.
"Mother, please…" she sobbed. "Please…I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm such a horrible daughter. I'm sorry I left you, please…please…you can't do this…"
"I am so sorry," Linai said gently, as Shrive went over and lightly put her hand on Eír's back. "I can't even sedate the poor woman. It would have no effect, the chemical and electrical imbalance is too great."
"How long?" Shrive asked her softly.
"Minutes…more likely seconds," the doctor responded.
"No," Eír sniffled again, then looked pleadingly at Shrive. "Thug…he needs to be here, he-"
"They haven't even landed yet," Shrive said softly. "They won't be on the ground for another half hour-"
Eír sobbed again, burying her face against Gellian's neck, listening to her rapid breaths, her incoherent mumbles which were now little more than slurred nonsense sounds.
Unseeing, uncomprehending, Gellian's rapidly rolling gaze seemed to slow and drift. Her lips stopped all movement, only tiny forced puffs of air betraying any further attempt to speak. Eír gripped her harder, and a moment later even those puffs had faded away.
Eír felt Shrive's warm hand gently touch the back of her neck a moment before taking her shoulder, softly urging her back. With no more energy to resist, Eír sat back, her lavender eyes gone darker, her cheeks slick with tears. Linai reached out and pressed her fingers to Gellian's thin neck, waiting a moment or two before she slowly shook her head. Drawing them back, she closed the human woman's half-lidded gaze.
"Find peace from your suffering," she murmured to the silent human woman. "Find peace in the embrace of the Goddess."
Heart aching, head thick with misery, Eír turned and hugged tightly to Shrive, clinging in her grief to the only source of peace she knew.