Liara
I breathe deep as I enter the chaos of the meld. I am one with myself, intensely aware of every resistant flutter of muscle, every synapse snapping with recalcitrance. For so long my body has been my fortress; I have locked myself within it and made a home with sorrow and pain. Now there is another here, and every level of my consciousness can sense that.
"It's okay." Zhira says the words I cannot tell myself, for I am not certain if I believe them. "Liara, it's okay. You can trust me."
I say nothing, knowing that my body will speak for me. That she will feel in the spark of my nerves and the tension of my muscles the words that I cannot utter. I know this is a knowledge meld, but I still find myself looking for similarities between this meld and the others I have shared. To see if similarities lie also beneath the skin as they exist in the waking world.
I remain still for a time, simply feeling Zhira with me, sensing who she is. In the world we share, both of us inside our own skin, this asari reminds me very much of Serena Shepard. Zhira is fierce, blunt, flawed, tragic, and powerful. She knows who she is to the world around her, and she knows all that she expects from herself.
I cannot deny my curiosity, and it is good to feel such a thing again. I must know how much she is like Shepard, where it matters. In her heart. In her mind.
"I'm not hiding, Liara." Zhira tells me, and there is a smile in her voice. "I know you have questions. Points of trust that have to be met. I'm right here. Search me."
I exhale and grip her hands tighter, letting the restraints around my own mind fall. I feel her innate essence within me, a raging torrent of power underlain by a stability that feels like the bedrock of time itself. I have my answer. Zhira T'Aryn and Serena Shepard share many similar traits, but the power within them comes from differing places.
Shepard was fire and lightning, fueled by the passion born of her tragedies. She showed the cosmos the sharp edges of her teeth and stood in the way of any who would break the hearts of the world as hers had been broken. She moved as an active aggressor in this galaxy, driving the fight far from where she called home, far from the places where her innermost soul dwelled.
Zhira is strong waters and deep roots. She does not act save in defense, because these are the lessons she has learned. Violence is not a friend to her, nor even an asset, for it defined a life she despises having lived. She moves in the galaxy silent and still, defending those weaker, providing wisdom and insight that she has gathered, all the while gathering more unto herself from those wiser than she.
Their differences relieve me. No longer do I fear that the closeness I feel with Zhira is because she reminds me of Shepard. I am more aware now…aware enough to realize that if I keep her near me because she reminds me of one who is gone, our relationship cannot continue as it is. It will be unhealthy for me, and cruel to her. But this is not the case. They are similar in the shallows, so different in their depths.
With this comfort, I draw Zhira alongside me and, much as Shepard once did with me, I show her my life. I walk her through the dig on Therum, the appearance of the geth. I let her see my fear, the absolute terror of the unknown driving me to flee. I show her my use of the Prothean technology to protect myself, and the prison that it became. My heart kicks painfully in my chest as I see Shepard once more in the memory. I remember being terrified of her, then. I remember not knowing her intentions, and the immediate wariness I felt when she asked me if I were the daughter of Matriarch Benezia.
Zhira lives through the time I spent on the Normandy. She sees the silly questions that I asked, the misunderstandings and arguments. In the meld, she holds me tight when I watch my mother die again. She whispers something that I cannot hear as I cradle Benezia to my chest while life leaves her body. And after, Zhira bears witness to the tears that Shepard cried for me. She witnesses a human decry the matriarchy and I sense an admiration of Shepard begin to grow in Zhira as well.
I walk with Zhira through the ruins of Edolus, showing her my lover's beautiful weaknesses, and how I had helped to heal them. I guide her through Virmire, showing her the Prothean beacon, the terror that called itself Sovereign. I let Zhira see the anger that had ripped into me when Shepard chose to let Kaidan die. I tear myself open and show her my mockery and my hatred, the thoughts that had decried the commander.
And later, those thoughts had changed. I had recanted. I allow Zhira into the heart that fell in love with a human woman with fire-hair and silver eyes. A woman with a scar that cleaved her face in two…as her heart was torn in two…and her spirit. I show Zhira the Shepard I saw at that time. A human who was two parts. Woman and soldier. I learned later that such a thing was not the truth, but I need Zhira to follow me through the entirety of this story.
From Virmire I move forward, ripping open my heart and splaying it before her, showing her the terror that was the Battle of the Citadel. I let her live through those moments with me, the surety of Shepard being gone, the heat of the flames as Sovereign and the Citadel burned around us. I let her feel my joy and my panic as two figures stagger from the smoke. Avi and Serena. One long dead. The other barely living.
"What…what the hell?" Zhira asks as the memory fades. "That…Liara…that didn't happen."
"Can you feel my conviction, Zhira?" I ask in return. "Can you not see that I am exhausted, but not delusional? I saw what I saw. I believe what I believe."
"Why her?" Zhira demands. "I can feel your thoughts on this matter, Liara, and I want to ask you a question. Why would the universe turn on its head for Shepard? I know you think she's special; I can sense your love for her like I've never felt love before, but goddess-damn it…the dead don't come back. Not just for one human."
"If it happened for her…can it not happen for anyone?" I ask. "And would you, Zhira, if you witnessed this…would you tell another soul?"
Zhira shakes her head, but I feel her reticence ease and her kindness emerge. Questions still hover around her, but she will subvert them, for now.
My heart begins to flutter in my chest as I move past the confrontation with Udina on the Destiny Ascension, as I show Zhira the blissful time I spent with Shepard before…before the day that tore me apart. That day appears in my memory. The scenes flash in front of me, more violent than they were when they happened. I see myself ripping apart the elevator and descending, rushing through the chaos, hearing the screams…
…oh, Goddess the screams…
Breathing becomes difficult as I see Shepard standing in front of me once again, alive, well, made of the same fire that consumes the ship.
Please, álainn anam. Please go. Be safe.
"Promise me you'll come back." I mouth the words in the memory, even though I can feel Zhira's hand around my arm, an anchor so that I do not lose myself here. I speak regardless. "Serena, promise me I'll see you again."
She tells me, again, that it's time. She begs me to go and I listen. I escape the fire and the explosions. I escape the destruction. I let Zhira see, but I do not watch. I am lost in the nightmare that follows. I am lost in the murder of Matriarch Avarya. I am lost in the swirl of Omega and defying her queen. I am lost in the hectic fight with Feron at my side.
Zhira bears witness to all of this until we come to the moment where I made the mistake and cleared the window. Where I saw the mockery that had been the body of the woman I loved beyond reason and self.
I scream in the memory and in the now and Zhira's arms surround me, firm, insistent.
"Break the meld, Liara." she orders. "Break it now. It's all right. You're not there. You're here, with me. Break the meld. Trust me, Liara, trust me. I've got you."
I draw back, look into amethyst eyes, and close my own. I am lost here…I am lost…
…find me…please…
