Author's Note – As I mentioned to one reader, I have nothing against Feron in the games, so I feel kinda bad for making him such a bastard in this story, but I needed a bastard, and his personality in the games is pretty vague, so …
As always, thanks to those who read/faved/followed, with special thanks to those who took the time to share their thoughts in reviews: devildoc35, Elena34, GriffinResult, KalenCaelli & Ani.
Liara had never discovered what exactly had happened to her father when Cerberus had made its abortive assault upon the Citadel. The outspoken matriarch had simply been gone after the dust settled. Liara had worried about Aethyta, but subsequent events had moved too swiftly to allow her much time for investigation. It was not until after the Reapers had been defeated that she discovered that her father had traveled to Earth and joined the fight on the ground, coordinating the efforts of several units of commandos.
Evidently, her activities had mended at least some of the breaches between Aethyta and the more tradition-minded matriarchs, because it had been Aethyta who had approached Liara with their proposal for Shepard. Liara wasn't particularly surprised to find her waiting when she returned to her flat after lunch.
"Well?" She leaned against the wall beside the door, watching Liara expectantly.
"She agreed," Liara told her, keying in the security code and stepping inside, knowing that there was no need to invite Aethyta.
"She have a baby mama in mind, or do we need to give her some choices?" The matriarch sauntered in behind her, glancing around casually.
Liara bit her lip. "I volunteered."
Aethyta nodded, looking unsurprised. "She know why you're doing this?"
Liara looked at her father sharply. "That's none of your concern."
The matriarch's expression hardened. "The hell it's not. You're my daughter, and if you're going to be carrying my granddaughter, it's definitely my concern." She leaned forward, violet eyes intense. "Does she know?" she asked again.
Liara glared at her. "I am doing this because Beth is my best friend!" she declared defiantly.
"Uh-huh." One brow arched skeptically. "And I'm a hanar porn star."
"For all I know, you might be," Liara shot back in exasperation. Growing up, she'd imagined what her father might be like dozens of times. Aethyta fit none of the images she had conjured, but while she often could not fathom what a dignified and respected diplomat like Benezia had seen in the outspoken, frequently uncouth bartender, other times she understood with perfect clarity what had drawn them together.
Now was not one of those times, however.
Aethyta cocked her head and shrugged. "I might be," she agreed. "I haven't checked lately. But even if I am, that's not all I am … and friendship isn't the only reason you're agreeing to have Shepard's baby."
Liara felt her shoulders sag in defeat. "Don't say anything to Lisbeth," she said, trying to make the words come out as a command, rather than the plea they felt like. "Not a word."
"I'm not that much of a bitch," her father replied, "but if I find out that she knows and she's using you ..." She trailed off, the promise of violence swirling in the amethyst depths of her eyes.
"She doesn't, and she's not," Liara said quickly. "Beth's not like that. You know her."
The building storm dissipated. "Yeah, I didn't figure she was. How about the drell?"
Liara felt her heart lurch unpleasantly in her chest. The question had been almost too casual. She turned and went into the kitchen, buying time to control her expression. "What about him?" she asked, trying to discern the hidden currents. Aethyta had never seemed to like Feron; she had never said so openly, but she never used his name, rarely even acknowledged his presence.
Aethyta snorted at the question. "How does he feel about his girlfriend having someone else's baby? Or have you told him?" Her voice faded briefly, as though she were walking away from the kitchen, then grew louder; seconds later, she wandered through the kitchen door, leaning on a countertop as she waited for an answer.
"Of course I've told him! Feron is my bondmate. I wouldn't even contemplate doing such a thing without telling him! He thinks it's a wonderful idea." And she still had no idea why. Feron had left the park soon after Liara had agreed to go to Shepard's flat that night, a final press of his fingers providing a lance of pain as a warning against changing those plans once he was gone.
"Uh-huh." It was amazing how much meaning her father could pack into those two syllables. "And does he know about -"
"Please." She didn't bother to try to sound commanding. "I don't want to talk about this any more. It has no bearing at all on the situation." She would have offered to do this for Beth even if her feelings were ... not what they were. She was certain of that.
Aethyta regarded her closely for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "All right, but you'd better work on your lying if you plan on pulling this off for nine months. If the drell's your bondmate, I'm a respectable matriarch … and we both know that ain't true."
"He loves me," Liara managed, knowing better than to try to assert the converse.
"And you feel responsible for what happened to him," Aethyta finished for her. "I get that. Don't agree, but I get it. But that only goes so far. You can't build any kind of life on it."
"You being the expert on lasting relationships?" Liara poured all of her limited talent for sarcasm into the question, but her father only shrugged.
"Maybe not," she admitted, her eyes growing distant. "A century ain't much between two asari, I guess, but I do know something about living with regrets after you let the right one slip away. You both deserve better than that." She shrugged again, pushed away from the counter. "Take that for what it's worth. I'm just a thousand year old bartender." She paused in the doorway, her eyes meeting Liara's. "But I'm also your father, and I'll rip the spine out of anyone who hurts you."
And she was gone, her promise lingering in the air behind her.
"Hey." Lisbeth smiled as she opened the door. "How many times do I tell you that you don't have to knock?"
"I always forget," Liara replied with a self-deprecating shrug. Not true. The omission was a deliberate one on her part; if she always knocked, Shepard would do the same. There were too many things that Liara didn't want Beth walking in on. She lifted her head, sniffing the air appreciatively. "It smells wonderful."
"I kept it simple," Beth replied with the easy smile that Liara loved. "Shrimp scampi, grilled asparagus, parmesan-garlic polenta, chocolate mousse and berries for dessert." She chuckled, looking suddenly a bit sheepish. "Never done a 'get-your-best-friend-pregnant' dinner before. I tried looking it up on the internet … didn't find much."
"There aren't any formal rituals," Liara replied, touched that Beth had made the attempt, but far from surprised. "As I said before, when bondmates are involved, sexual contact normal to the paternal species is frequently engaged in, but it is not a necessary component of the meld."
"Just as well," Beth observed wryly. "I don't think Feron's generosity would extend that far. I don't know that any other guy would have agreed, friendship or not. He's pretty special."
"Yes." He was special; the problem had to be Liara, didn't it? She hadn't been able to save him in time before, couldn't push back the demons that beset him now. Couldn't even love him the way he wanted her to … needed her to.
"You've got that look again." Beth was watching her, faint lines of concern touching her features. "Lia, there's no rush on this. If you want to wait, think about it some more -"
"No," Liara replied quickly, fighting down a swell of panic at what Feron might do if his plans were thwarted. Or was that what he actually wanted? His thoughts had grown so convoluted, at times it seemed as though he actively sought reason to be angry with her. No, it had to be her; she was the only one that he was like that with. Everyone else thought him intelligent, brave, kind. Thought they were perfect together. Except Aethyta, but even she didn't know the whole of it. "It's just a bit of nerves, that's all. I still worry that I won't be a good mother."
"Don't." There was not a trace of doubt in Lisbeth's face or voice as she slipped an arm around Liara's shoulders and guided her toward the kitchen. "You're going to be a fantastic mother, and the kid's going to have aunts and uncles from every race in the galaxy. She can have play dates with Wrex's brood."
Despite herself, the thought drew a laugh from Liara. As a desirable specimen, Wrex had bred with numerous krogan females after the genophage had been cured, but Urdnot Bakara was his mate and co-ruler, and it was their three children (with more on the way) that he doted on the most. The idea of their child playing with them was appealing, but would Feron allow it? "Let's eat," she told Shepard.
Lisbeth was a talented cook, and the meal was undoubtedly delicious, but Liara tasted none of it, forcing herself to engage in small talk, listening as Shepard gave updates on their old crewmates: Kasumi had refused a recruitment offer from C-Sec, was currently working as a private security consultant and making almost as much money telling firms how to keep people from stealing from them as she had when she'd been the one doing the stealing; Ashley and James' wedding would be in three months; Garrus and Tali would be departing for Rannoch as soon as the mass relay path was complete; the team led by Miranda and Traynor had almost completed the repairs to EDI's systems, replacing the reaper components that had been destroyed when the Crucible had fired. Her personality seemed intact, and she had recognized Joker when she had been activated for the first time.
"That's wonderful news, Beth," she told her friend. Of all the companions they had lost during the years of this fight, EDI had been the one that Shepard had felt the most deeply. Her choice to destroy the reapers, rather than chance a control that might not last or force a synthesis of synthetic and organic life upon the entire galaxy, had also damaged anything that utilized reaper technology. The geth as a species had been obliterated, and EDI had been rendered inoperable, inert. Reviving an entire race was too formidable a task in a galaxy thrown into complete disarray, but the crew of the Normandy, past and present, had rallied to the care of one of their own.
"Everyone's always asking me about you," Lisbeth replied, watching her over the rim of her mug of espresso. "You really need to get out of that office more."
"I know," Liara admitted. She'd never been good at socializing, and now there was the added worry that a wrong word might give things away. "There's just so much to do, so many who need help."
"But you have to take care of yourself, too," Beth told her earnestly, reaching across the table to take her hand, adding with a smug grin, "and this baby will be the excuse I need to drag you out of there more often."
"That would be nice," Liara made herself say, trying to still Feron's mocking voice in the deep vaults of her mind:
It's the baby she cares about. You're no more to her than the tank that Okeer used to grow that krogan.
"Shall we begin?" she asked. As much as she dreaded the challenge of this meld, she needed to feel Beth's mind, the truth of her caring, to still that hurtful voice.
"Now? Sure!" Beth stood, then hesitated. "Do you need to prepare or practice or anything?"
Liara shook her head. "The process is controlled by the autonomic nervous system. Once the meld has occurred, my body will know what to do."
"That's amazing," Shepard remarked with another of those smiles that made Liara's heart ache. "All right, then, where did you want to do this?"
"Someplace comfortable where we can face each other, close enough to touch." Physical contact was not absolutely necessary, but it did help in establishing and maintaining the bond.
"In front of the fireplace, then?" At Liara's nod of assent, Beth retrieved two of the oversized, brightly colored pillows that were scattered throughout the living room and placed them side-by-side before the hearth. After adjusting the flames so that the heat was not quite so intense, she settled cross-legged on one of the pillows and patted the other invitingly.
Liara sat, wishing that the baby could inherit some of Shepard's phenotypical traits: the warm caramel tone of her skin, gleaming gently in the fire's light; the sable hair that tumbled over Beth's shoulders in silken waves that Liara itched to run her fingers through; the brown eyes that always watched her so warmly. She and Traynor could have passed for sisters, though the tall and strongly built commander towered over the petite communications specialist.
"This meld will be deeper than any of the others we have done," she told Lisbeth, beginning to summon the mental barriers that were not a normal part of a mating meld. "If anything causes you discomfort, just tell me." She held up her hands, palms out.
"I will," Shepard replied, plainly confident that she would feel no discomfort as she lifted her own hands and pressed them to Liara's, palm to palm, the warmth of skin on skin sending a tiny shiver along Liara's spine.
She pushed it away, focused on matching her breathing to Shepard's, slow and steady, holding her gaze, feeling the familiar pressure in her mind, the pulse of Lisbeth's heart, the low thrum of blood in her veins, the dance of impulses along her nerves. "Embrace eternity," she murmured, opening her mind and reaching out.
So easy. Beth met her halfway, flowing into her effortlessly, gently. One moment, they were two; the next, they were simply they. It had been this way almost from the start, so different from Feron, the only other she had melded with. He insisted that she meld with him in bed, but he thrust into her mind with the same rough urgency that he used on her body, needing to feel her total submission, even as her revulsion hurt and angered him.
Beth's presence was a soothing balm, going readily wherever she was given access, never pushing against the barriers she encountered, never even trying to create any barriers of her own. Her mind was completely open to Liara; the asari could feel the affection, warm and strong and real, but try as she might, she could discern no trace of romantic impulse or physical desire in it. Tucking that foolish hope securely behind her mental barriers, she resolved to simply enjoy what she had, basking in the safety and strength of Lisbeth's presence as the meld deepened with an ease that she had never come close to with Feron.
Now. Instinct took over, guiding her even deeper, attuning her nervous system to Shepard's, the lines blurring until every breath, every heartbeat, every thought and emotion was them, nothing in between, and it was all she could do to remember to keep her barriers up as she began to explore the genetic patterns that made Lisbeth Eleanor Shepard who she was. Courage, kindness and honor could only be taught, but the intelligence and emotional disposition that allowed these traits could be inherited. Biotic aptitude, agility, physical prowess … she explored, mapped, patterned, replicated, aware of Beth looking on in wonder.
It was done, the sudden spark within her womb the signal of her success, and as loathe as she was to allow this time to end, the strain of holding part of her mind closed during a mating meld was pushing her limits, and it was only a matter of time before the walls crumbled. Ending a meld so deeply entered was no easy task, however, and she was trembling with exhaustion by the time it was accomplished and she felt Beth's awareness separate fully from her own.
She opened her eyes to find Shepard staring at her in awe. "That was amazing," Beth breathed. "Did it – did it work? I mean, do you know right away, or -"
"Yes," she managed. "It worked." The weariness was bad enough, but the loss of that intimate connection, the lack of Beth's presence in her mind was almost painful now, and the knowledge that she might never experience a meld of such wondrous depth again - "I should get home," she said, trying to get to her feet, but her legs wavered, the world tilting wildly on its axis.
"Whoa, there." Beth caught her before she could fall, strong arms bearing her up easily and guiding her toward the sofa. "You should rest up for a bit. I'll call Feron, let him know."
Liara knew that she should protest, but Beth was holding her, and she felt safe and so very tired. Surely it would be all right if she closed her eyes and rested for a few minutes? Just a few minutes, she promised herself as she let her eyes slip closed.
When Liara woke, her first thought was that she felt rested...far more so than she had been in many weeks. When she opened her eyes, she soon realized why. Lisbeth was sitting on the floor beside the couch, her outstretched left arm serving as a pillow for Liara's head. The commander was leaning against the arm of the couch, her eyes closed, her breathing slow and even. It was rare to see her in such repose, and Liara drank the sight in for several moments until awareness pierced the bubble of contentment.
Goddess, how long had she been asleep? The darkness outside the windows suggested that night was well advanced.
Alarmed, she sat up with a gasp, startling Beth into wakefulness. "What's wrong?" Shepard asked, sitting up and glancing around watchfully.
"I just...shouldn't have been out so late," Liara managed, standing and looking around for the clock, cringing inwardly when she read the time. "Feron will be worried."
"It's fine," Beth assured her. "I called him, told him you were resting and I'd get you home when you woke up." She winced, rubbing her left arm and shaking it. "Went to sleep," she explained sheepishly, opening and closing the fingers.
"I don't wonder, if you had me laying on it for four hours," Liara scolded her, though she couldn't help a flush of warmth at the notion, and a wistful wish to have been awake for more of that time.
"I was worried about you," Lisbeth replied. "I've never seen you hit that hard by a meld before. I almost called Dr. Chakwas to come over and check you."
"Mating melds are draining," Liara told her, knowing that information confirming this could be easily turned up in extranet research without betraying the fact that she'd had to hide more than she ever had before. "I'm fine now. Thank you." She needed to get home; she was afraid to go home, but the longer she delayed, the worse it would be. "I really should get going."
"Wait." Shepard's hand touched her shoulder, the gentle pressure stopping her in mid-stride as effectively as an iron grip. She turned, found brown eyes regarding her with worry and a hint of sadness. "Whatever it is that you're afraid to tell me...you don't have to be," she said softly.
Liara stared at her in shock. "I didn't – I'm not -" She faltered, unable to lie so blatantly when Beth was looking at her like that. "How did you -"
Lisbeth shrugged. "I felt it … not sure how to describe it. It felt like a wall that I kept bumping into. I've felt it before when we melded, but it was no big deal. Everyone has secrets, I guess, but this time -" She looked straight into Liara's eyes, her expression serious. "You're scared. I could feel it. Scared of me finding out whatever it is."
The hurt in Beth's face, her voice, nearly shattered Liara. Even more distressing was the realization that she'd been able to discern that much during the meld. It was a level of sensitivity that was usually only found between bondmates. Certainly Feron had never demonstrated anything even close to it.
Before she could speak, Beth went on. "You don't have to tell me, but you don't have to be afraid. You're my best friend, and nothing is going to change that."
The words were meant to be reassuring, but they were like salt in a raw wound. Beth was her friend, and that is how it would stay. Never lovers, never bondmates, and after being given a hint of just how profound such a union between them might be, the realization was almost unbearably painful.
"I know that, Beth," she made herself say. "And I'll tell you, just not tonight. Please?" Not until after she had figured out how to end things with Feron, because she knew now that she had to. Not just because of the baby's safety, though goddess knew that was reason enough. She couldn't continue in a pallid mimicry of a relationship, now that she knew what a real bonding could be like. Better to be alone than to try to settle for something that would always be less. It wasn't fair to Feron or to herself. She just had to convince Feron of that.
Beth nodded, but looked no less troubled. "Are you in danger?" she pressed. "Something you found out as the Shadow Broker?"
"No." Liara shook her head. "Nothing like that. It's – it's silly, really." She forced a laugh, but Beth regarded her solemnly.
"It's not silly if it's got you afraid to talk to me," she declared. "Promise me you'll tell me soon? I'm just going to keep worrying otherwise."
"I promise," Liara told her, praying that she would be able to keep that promise, because she knew that Beth would not forget or let it go.
It seemed to be enough for now, however. Beth kissed her cheek, hugged her. "All right. I love you, Lia."
"I love you, too, Beth." She knew that the words didn't mean what she so wanted them to, but she let herself slide back into the illusion, hugging Beth back and hanging on for a few moments, telling herself that Shepard's steadfast friendship would be enough. That it had to be enough.
"You want me to call you a skycab?" Beth offered, ever gallant.
"I can do that," Liara assured her as she stepped out the door, inputting the request on her omni-tool. She would have preferred to walk, to have time to compose herself, plan what to say, but she knew that Shepard would insist on accompanying her at this time of night.
Once inside the cab, she drew deep breaths, centering herself, trying to decide on the best course of action. Trying to tell him tonight would likely go badly. Better to simply ride out his anger, then speak to him in the morning, before he started drinking, when he was almost always more rational. They could go to breakfast somewhere; he'd never lashed out at her in public. He could have the flat; she'd find somewhere else to live, ask Garrus and Tali to help her get her things out. And then she could tell Shepard. Not all of it; she didn't want Beth hunting Feron down. She'd just say that things hadn't worked out, that the relationship had been in its last stages even before the decision was made about the baby.
But even as she made her plans, a mocking voice in the back of her mind told her that she was a fool if she thought that Feron would let her go so easily, would let her walk away and live, and when she opened the door of the flat and saw his face, she knew that the voice had been right.
A.N. - While this is a work of fiction, there are too many for whom domestic violence is a hellish fact.
If you are among that number, know this:
You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.
You. Deserve. Better.
Don't buy the crap they tell you to keep you down.
Get out.
1-800-799-SAFE (7233) – National Domestic Violence Hotline – 24/7/365