Author's Notes: Many thanks for the warm reception! As I mentioned earlier, no this has not been finished yet, but I do intend to correct that, and moving it here is the first step.
Many thanks to those who have read, faved & followed, with special shout outs to my reviewers: melanie.9400, devildoc35, The Darklight Angel, acevolkner & the eternally anonymous Guest.
She couldn't go through with it.
She had been awake for most of the night, thoughts tumbling over each other as Feron slept beside her, and she reached the same conclusion time and again. She couldn't bring a child into this hell, couldn't expose an innocent, a baby - Lisbeth's baby – to her lover's slowly increasing rage. And she couldn't leave Feron, couldn't tell Shepard. Beth would kill him.
She lay motionless, tears sliding down her cheeks in silence, not daring to risk waking him by leaving the bed. She finally drifted into fitful slumber shortly before dawn, woke to find Feron gone. It was unusual for him to go out before noon these days, but not unheard of, and she accepted the reprieve gratefully, staying in the shower until the water grew tepid, letting the heated spray soothe away the soreness of the previous night's activity. If only the memories could be so easily assuaged.
Hot tea and toast with jam broke her fast, and she used her omni-tool to contact Shepard to arrange to meet at lunch. She could tell her then. Beth wouldn't question her choice, likely wouldn't even bring it up again. The matriarchs would just have to accept it … but would they? The thought that they might approach Shepard with another candidate, the thought that Lisbeth might want a child badly enough to accept, made the last bite of bread and raspberry jam stick in her throat like cement, but she would just have to live with the possibility. She had no choice.
The repairs to the Normandy were almost complete. The SR2 had been severely damaged in the final battle against the Reapers, limping back into orbit at ten percent function, life support and the sub-light engines virtually the only systems still operating. The shielding that Liara had placed around the electronics in her own quarters had largely protected them from the damage that had ravaged the rest of the ship's systems, and even while repairs were underway, it had been more practical to leave everything in place than to try to locate a secure facility and attempt to relocate without drawing attention.
When the Crucible had fired, the wave of energy that it sent through the mass relays had knocked them all offline; the same energy had scrambled FTL communications throughout the galaxy. She'd had less than a dozen quantum entanglement communicators distributed among her most dependable agents, and for nearly a month, that had been her sole link to the galaxy beyond the Sol system. Arranging leaks of important information had been tricky, such as when word had come of an attempted uprising of the krogan that had been trapped on Palaven. Fortunately, Wrex was one of the few who knew that she was the Shadow Broker, and his orders to stand down had been obeyed.
The communications relays had been repaired first, and one by one, the mass relays were coming back online. Within another six months, ninety percent of the pre-Reaper galaxy would be reachable, either by relay or FTL travel. She could have left Earth, returned to Thessia or Ilium. Feron had pressed for it, but she had refused. She could be the Shadow Broker anywhere, and Shepard was here. She had paid for that defiance in a hundred ways, great and small, when they were alone in their flat, but it was a price she accepted.
"Good morning, Dr. T'soni." Her VI and assistant zipped promptly to the door as it opened.
"Good morning, Glyph," she replied. The door slid closed behind her, and she drew a deep, grateful breath. In this room, she was the Shadow Broker, with dozens of secrets and dilemmas to distract her from the mess that her personal life had become. Things had remained relatively quiet since she had left the previous afternoon. She received updates from half a dozen operatives, passed word to a volus embassy that an elcor ship loaded with supplies was bound at FTL speed to an isolated colony that had recently sent out a distress call due to dwindling food reserves, received word that another holdout Cerberus cell had been identified and forwarded the coordinates to her contact in the Alliance.
As much as possible, she had turned the vast network of the Shadow Broker's intelligence gathering away from profit and toward doing good in the galaxy. That her own judgment was the sole ruling as to what constituted 'good' troubled her more than a little sometimes, but one worked with what one had. It had been relatively easy during the war, as almost all of her energies had been focused on finding information on completing the Crucible or anything that might help Shepard bring the squabbling factions into some kind of alliance.
Before that, though … she had come so very close to becoming the thing she had fought against. Getting Lisbeth's lifeless body away from the Shadow Broker had required a ruthlessness that she had not ever suspected herself capable of. Turning it over to Cerberus had required something else entirely: a desperation great enough to grasp at the finest threads of promise. Then for two years, nothing to hold to at all, thinking Feron dead and likely Beth, as well. Revenge had become her sole focus, and she had made more than one sacrifice on the altar of that dark god: innocence, trust, mercy, honesty. Her intelligence and analytic mind were part of what had made her a successful information broker, but if that had been all, she never would have survived. But perhaps that would have been best...
Pulling herself away from her bleak thoughts, she glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes to meet Beth. She closed out her files, engaged security protocols. Normally, she would return to work after lunch, but she doubted that she would be in any condition to focus this afternoon.
As she walked, she rehearsed the words she would say. 'I'm just not ready to be a mother, Beth.' And it was true, wasn't it? Barely a century old: still a maiden by most standards, though she hardly felt like one most days. And the things she had seen … the things she had done … how could she possibly be entrusted with the pure innocence of a baby? The taint on her soul would touch it in the womb. Beth didn't know, would never know, goddess willing, and the matriarchs would find another candidate, and they would be right to do so, because Lisbeth Shepard was everything that was good in humanity, and Liara would be happy when her best friend was holding the baby that she wanted and deserved, but a part of her was already curled up in misery at the very thought of it -
"Hey." Startled, she looked up into curious brown eyes, realized she'd nearly walked right into Beth. "Deep thoughts?"
"Just … thinking about work," she managed, giving Shepard a smile of greeting.
Instead of returning the smile, Beth cocked her head, studying her. "If work's making you look like that, maybe it's time to find another yahg to turn the show over to," she quipped with an expression that made it clear that the sentiment beneath the jest was genuine. She lifted her hand beneath Liara's chin, tilting her face up a bit. "You look tired," she observed quietly, not bothering to try to hide her concern. "If this is about the whole baby thing -"
"No," Liara said quickly, even though Beth had given her the perfect opening. She didn't want Shepard blaming herself for something that was Liara's fault. "I just had a rather thorny problem to solve at the office last night and this morning." Only a few people outside the Normandy's core crew knew that Liara T'Soni was the Shadow Broker, and outside of her office on the ship, it was discussed only in carefully worded terms, a discretion that she was doubly glad of now.
Lisbeth nodded, but did not look any less worried. "You know, I retired, and the galaxy didn't end. Maybe you should give it a try."
If it were only so easy. Shepard had set aside the mantle of hero, but Liara knew well enough that she would take it up again, should the need arise. If Liara set aside her usurped throne, walked away, there would be no shortage of those willing to fill the void, most of whom would care little for doing good. The only way would be to destroy everything: all the files, all the secrets, all the equipment. But in doing that, she would destroy the potential for good as well as bad, and she couldn't do that … not yet.
"I'll think about it," she promised, and she would. "Where did you want to eat lunch?"
"Thai all right?" Shepard asked hopefully, and when Liara nodded her assent, fell in beside the asari, her left hand resting lightly against Liara's lower back in a gesture that seemed almost instinctive, maintaining a firm enough contact to push her to the ground if gunfire erupted, but not so firm as to control her movement. It was a simple intimacy that Liara both treasured and dreaded, because Feron loathed it. If he had been here and seen it, she would pay the price later, but he wasn't here, so Liara allowed herself to simply enjoy the moment, edging a bit closer to Lisbeth and allowing the soldier to guide their path.
Shepard's favorite restaurant was always crowded at lunch, but she preferred to eat in the park across the street, and the chef was always happy to provide a takeout order for the galaxy's savior. Within ten minutes, they had settled beneath a massive oak tree whose broken limbs and scarred trunk proclaimed it another survivor of the battle to free Earth from the Reapers. Beth passed Liara her box of lemongrass chicken and a set of chopsticks, then dug into her own extra-spicy pad Thai.
"How was your morning?" Liara asked, more than willing to delay more serious discussions. The spring day was bright, clear and warm, and the little park was doing an admirable job of returning to life after the double-punch of war and winter.
"Not bad," Beth replied. "Spent some time working with Jack and her kids. Rodriguez is really starting to come along on her fine control."
Liara nodded approvingly. "She needed the right teacher."
"Jack's done a damn good job of teaching those kids," Shepard spoke up in defense of her friend.
"That she has," Liara agreed readily, "but while she is undoubtedly the stronger biotic, you have better control." It was that control that made Lisbeth Shepard such a devastatingly effective vanguard. She could send a shockwave between two teacups set a foot apart without tipping either or flatten a fifteen foot wide swath fifty feet in front of her.
"Subtlety isn't Jack's strong point," Beth agreed, then grinned. "She did like my idea of having Rodriguez use her biotics to crack the eggs for everybody's breakfast, though. And when I showed her how to scramble them with her hand on the bottom of the bowl? You should have seen their faces, and then they all wanted to try it. Rodriguez was the only one who managed it without slinging egg everywhere, though."
"Maybe they won't tease her for her lack of power now," Liara suggested.
"Not once she fully harnesses that precision," Shepard predicted. The N7 operative and Spectre could stop a heart in a chest with a tightly focused biotic surge, or explode every internal organ with a barrage of pulsations. Liara had watched her defuse a bomb thirty feet away, manipulating the biotic field around it with minute motions of her fingers, then hold another field around a second bomb they'd been too late to defuse, containing the explosion within a twenty-foot sphere.
"With you teaching her, I have no doubt she will," Liara replied. Her biotic gifts were just one more reason why Shepard would be an ideal father for an asari child … more than one child, if her genetic contribution were to be maximized. But it couldn't be Liara. "Beth, about the baby -"
"Sorry I'm late." Lisbeth looked up as the shadow fell over them, so she missed Liara fumbling and nearly dropping her chopsticks as she recognized the voice.
"Feron!" Beth smiled in welcome as the drell seated himself beside Liara. "I didn't know you were coming, or we'd have gotten your food with ours."
He chuckled, completely at ease. "I figured she'd have forgotten that she asked me to come by now. Once she's in her office working, she forgets everything else." The look that he gave the asari was one of affectionate exasperation, but Liara felt ill. She hadn't told him that she was planning on meeting Beth for lunch, but he had still known. Had he tapped her communications, or was he following her … or both? How could she have missed either one? "She wanted us to talk to you together about the baby."
"Oh?" Beth's eyes focused on them expectantly. "You two had a chance to talk about it?"
Not since her earliest days as an information broker had Liara been caught out so fully. They hadn't spoken of the matter at all after going to the bedroom, and she had no idea what would be the right thing to say, and what would result in even more punishment than she was already going to receive. "We -" She faltered, but Feron stepped in smoothly.
"We think it's a wonderful idea," he said warmly, draping an arm around Liara's shoulders for what looked like an affectionate squeeze, the tip of one finger pressing lightly on a nerve point in warning. He wasn't drunk … and that realization frightened Liara more than anything else. She'd always been able to tell herself that his behavior was due to the alcohol, that if she could just get him to stop drinking ...
"You do?" The surprise and relief in Lisbeth's voice, in her face, were so pronounced that Liara was briefly distracted from her fear by the realization of just how much her best friend wanted this. "You're sure?"
"Of course." Feron's voice was strong, confident, caring. It was a voice that Liara never heard these days. "With Liara's intelligence and your talents, your child will be exceptional."
"She'd be yours, too," Shepard replied earnestly. "I want to be involved in her life, want her to know me and who I am, but you'd be her father as much as I would be."
"I wouldn't have it any other way," the drell agreed. "She'll be raised alongside our daughters."
"You've decided to have kids, then?" Beth's surprise was no less than Liara's, but judging from her response, the Commander did not share the asari's gut-clenching fear at the idea of giving Feron helpless targets for his rage. Shepard didn't know what he was like now. No one did. No one except -
"Lia?" She looked up to find Lisbeth watching her curiously. "You haven't said much. Are you sure about this? You're the one who's going to be doing the real work." There was a hint of concern in her eyes, and Liara felt a swell of panic. Shepard could never know. Part of it was an instinctive reflex to protect Feron, but it was mostly shame at the idea of Beth finding out how low Liara had sunk, the things she had done and allowed to be done to her. She couldn't bear the thought of the disgust that she would surely see in Beth's eyes if she knew the things that Feron knew.
"It's a bit overwhelming," she managed, trying to salvage the situation, suppressing a wince as Feron's finger bit painfully into the pressure point with a subtle flex. "But I agree with Feron: it's a wonderful idea." She was drawing upon every tool of deception that she had learned as an information broker, trying to be convincing, and it must have worked, because the concern on Beth's face smoothed away.
"All right, then," Shepard said. "When did we want to do it?"
"Why not tonight?" Feron suggested before Liara could speak.
"That soon?" Lisbeth looked startled, brown eyes turning again to Liara in query.
"Why not?" The pressure on the nerves beneath Feron's finger had become steady, sending relentless waves of pain radiating out from the spot. "Since we're all in agreement, there's no reason to put it off, is there?" The pressure lifted, the pain vanished. The relief was almost dizzying.
"Well … I guess not." Beth gave her a quizzical smile. "I'm not sure how these things are supposed to work, though. Did you two want to come over to my place? I could make dinner."
Feron surprised her yet again by saying, "Just Liara, I think. Having someone else there might disrupt the meld, and I trust you not to try to steal my girl."
They both laughed. Liara laughed with them, but inside, she was sick with dread and confusion. What sort of game was Feron playing? What did he want from her? Was he simply setting her up to give him a reason to punish her? The thought of defying him never crossed her mind; those impulses had been ruthlessly smothered months ago beneath the twin weights of fear and guilt. Submission and obedience were the only options left to her.
She was trapped.
A.N. - Did anyone else find it odd that everybody & their dog in ME3 knew that Liara was the Shadow Broker?