Mahir - daughter
Filiam - sister
Dilan - fiancee
42 Days ASR
Shepard clung to Garrus's side as Herros returned from seeing the primarch to his car. The hierarch laid a hand on their shoulders as he passed by them, striding over to where Trea sat on the loveseat, her blankets askew. The elder Vakarian gathered the blankets, then sat beside his bond-mate, wrapping one around Trea's shoulders, the other over both their laps.
Tears prickled the inner corner of Shepard's eyes as Herros gathered his wife in against his side, his mouth pressed against her temple. She couldn't even imagine facing the nightmare he lived with each day, watching his love of over forty cycles slip away a little at a time.
"Come on, let's get some food into us before Mordin gets here to pick up the husks," Garrus said, his voice rough with emotion. His arm tightened around her as he nuzzled the top of her head. "Wrex will be here at 0400, and I want to ship out as soon as we can get him aboard." Drawing her along with him, he took a step toward the door.
Shepard squeezed his waist, a gentle hug of understanding, but pulled away. "I'll be there in a minute. I need to call Miranda, have her drop Thane off and then head to Korlus." As she predicted, he twisted back to face her, poised to argue. She didn't give him a chance. "EDI can run scans and send them to the Passch so we're ready to deal with whatever the hell Wrex is getting us into." Stepping up against him, she reached up and pressed her palm against his cheek. "Trust me, please. I know Cerberus has a part to play in this war, and I'm terrified that it's as enemies, not allies. I need to keep an eye on them, and Miranda is the best way to do that."
The sound that came from his throat sounded a little like a tiger grunting and pulled a smile onto her lips. "You'll be with me the entire time. It'll be fine." She stabbed her chin toward the door. "Go ahead, I'll be five minutes."
He snagged her hand and pulled her into him, wrapping both arms around her. "Fine, I'm all for keeping your enemies close," he said, leaning down to rest his brow against hers, "but, if I feel they're a threat, I'll do whatever I have to, Kahri. This war … this general … needs you." He nuzzled her forehead, then released her and headed inside.
Shepard watched him go, then turned away from Herros and Trea, giving them their privacy. Wandering toward the back of the garden, she opened a channel to the Ypres, routing it to Kelly.
"Captain," the yeoman said, her voice containing enough edge to know that things had been tense aboard the Ypres since her departure. "I'm glad to hear from you. Are you all right? Miranda returned to the ship saying that the crew was no longer welcome at the Archangel base, and she didn't know if you'd be returning to the ship."
"I'm fine, Yeoman Chambers. I haven't abandoned the Ypres or her crew. Do I have any urgent messages?" Shepard scuffled her toes through the thick, mossy lawn, making her way between the beds of plants to crouch next to the rylamia bushes.
"No, ma'am. No messages," Kelly reported, the professional distance back in her voice. "However, the crew is concerned about you, and they're feeling really unsure about things right now." The yeoman cleared her throat, her discomfort with the subject transmitting clearly over the comms. "This crew is prepared to take on the Collectors and the Reapers, but we need our captain present and accounted for. Otherwise, we're rudderless and unfocused and that makes everyone nervous, Shepard, not just Miranda."
Shepard reached out, brushing her fingers over the bunches of silky petals. "Patch me through to Miranda, please, Yeoman Chambers."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Shepard," Miranda said, her tone clipped tighter than a newly shorn sheep.
"I need you to take the Ypres to Illium where you'll drop Thane Krios off and pick up any supplies you need before proceeding to Korlus in the Imir System." She paused, running the map in her head. Was that right? Yeah, that was right. "That's in the Eagle Nebula."
"I know where it is, Captain." The operative let out a slightly noisy breath. "When we still had a plan for fighting the Collectors as your crew, a krogan warlord, Okeer, was one of the dossiers we assembled for recruitment."
Shepard hummed, that information taking her by surprise. "Well then, that would be the krogan warlord we're on our way to rescue. He sent a message to Wrex asking for assistance." She stood and paced along the stone path without really seeing where she was going. "His base is under attack by the Collectors."
"The reason we considered recruiting him was his reputation for dealing with the Collectors," Miranda confirmed. "He's obsessed with what he calls, 'rendering the genophage impotent', and was rumoured to trade tank bred krogan to the Collectors in exchange for the means to do that."
Shepard winced, suddenly not at all sure Okeer was someone she wanted to save. "Send me the dossier," she ordered. "I want to know what we're walking into there." She glanced down as her omnitool signalled that the file had been received. Efficiency, its name was Miranda. "When you arrive at Korlus, go in with stealth systems active. Keep a weather eye for those Collector cruisers. If they're on scene, retreat and contact me. If they are not, have EDI run detailed scans of the area around the base. The entire planet is a nightmare of junk and mud. I want two routes mapped through that graveyard. We'll insert in two teams to provide cover for one another."
"Understood, Captain." Miranda went silent for a second. "May I ask why we're dropping off Sere Krios?"
"I need him for a personal mission and will send his orders directly to him," she replied, her tone coming off less neutral than she'd been aiming for. Of course, maybe that was for the best. Too little snark, Miranda would know something was off.
"Shepard! Your breakfast is turning into a fossil in here!" Nihlus hollered from the door.
She grinned and shook her head. "Let me know when you reach Illium, Operative Lawson. I'll be available via comms if any situations arise. Shepard, out." She closed the channel without waiting to see if Miranda had anything else to say. As she returned to the house, she prepared a message to send to Thane. She needed him to have his orders before Miranda went looking to rake him over the coals.
Solana met Shepard at the door, opening the portal to let her through. "Those two would probably never realize that they neglected to introduce us, so … . Hello, I'm Solana, Garrus and Nihlus's younger, better looking, smarter, and more talented filiam." She held out her hands, long elegant talons covered in gloves of finely woven polymer underlayer. "Thanks for earlier."
Shepard gripped the tarin's wrists. "I'm very pleased to finally meet you, Solana." She ducked her head a little. "As for earlier … within our first couple of weeks, Garrus chucked me over his shoulder like a sack of flour no fewer than four times. I know what you're up against."
"I only chucked you over my shoulder twice," the general called across the caman. "The other two times, I carried you … other ways."
Solana grinned and jerked her head toward the table. "Come eat, then after breakfast, you can try to beat me at a game of Armiliteria. There's no better way to get to know someone."
Following the tarin to the table, Shepard raised her eyebrows. "Armiliteria?" She caressed a hand down the inside of Garrus's arm as he pulled out a chair, seating her between he and Nihlus. She cast a teasing glare up at him. Incorrigible.
"It's a game of military strategy," Herros spoke up. The grin he levelled on his mahir snapped with both teasing and a sort of warning. "All turians learn to play very young. It's used to ascertain command style when considering cadets for officer training."
Shepard's eyebrows climbed even higher as she watched Sol sit across the table. "And what was your command style?"
"Opportunistic cheat," Herros supplied. "She was suspended for two weeks and recruited by Grey Division the minute she got back."
Garrus set Shepard's breakfast in front of her. "Grey Division is in charge of all the projects no one admits to."
Sol laughed, sharp but merry. "He's so dramatic. I teach hacking and espionage."
As everyone settled down to eat, the conversation turned to Trea's new position and their impending missions. After breakfast, Shepard and Sol sat down to play a game that ended up taking most of the day despite—or perhaps because of—a great deal of unwanted and unsolicited advice from the peanut gallery. In the end, over the course of battling Sol to a stalemate, Shepard spent the day filled with enough laughter and love that she almost forgot that the war waited outside the door, and at 0400 the next morning it would swallow her whole once more.
One of Palaven's moons hung heavy and bright, gleaming silver across the small, second-storey garden. Shepard leaned against the low wall and looked out over the city. Terraces of light marched down hundreds of metres of cliff face toward the business section that sprawled across the canyon floor.
She heard Garrus walk up behind her, his stare heating the back of her neck, his approach provocative, slow and deliberate. A smile bolted across her face, trapped as her teeth closed on her bottom lip. Footsteps too soft to be anything but bare talons whispered through the turf, and not a single sound of gritting ceramic or rustling fabric accompanied his movement.
"Which one is that?" she asked, jutting her chin toward the glowing orb hanging above the city. A flush burned up her neck at the breathiness of her voice and the tingle of excitement in her gut. It prompted reactions between her thighs she knew he wouldn't miss. He always knew what was going on with her body before she did. Her heart thumped hard and fast, beating what she thought might be a salsa beat against the inside of her ribs.
"Nanus." Damn, if his voice didn't sound as breathless as her own, "Menae won't rise for a couple of hours yet." His arms slipped around her, pulling her back against him. "It's almost as bright as daylight when they're both up and both full."
She relaxed back into him. "The city is beautiful … the lights look like strings of jewels up the cliffs and along the walls." A soft chuckle bounced from her throat, hollow and soft. "Nothing about your people has been what I expected."
Garrus's mouth plates pressed against the overheated and excited skin of her neck, his breath wrapping around around her, the slow, warm waters of an August stream. "If you build a wall, it tells the enemy that you intend to keep them out," he whispered. "If you make it beautiful, it tells them that you expect it to stand forever."
She smiled, her eyes rolling back a little as they closed. Reaching behind her, she ran her palm down the outside of his thigh, her skin slipping easily over the taut lines of naked muscle and smooth hide. "Why, General Vakarian, you're not wearing any clothes, sir. If I didn't know better, I might think you had untoward intentions."
He leaned in, nuzzling behind her ear and down her neck. "I have a hypothesis," he said, his voice deepening and taking on a throaty rumble she recognized. Oh, he had untoward intentions all right. Her teeth caught her bottom lip again as the talons of his right hand tugged at the hem of her shirt, freeing it from the waistband of her trousers.
"Oh? And what is that?" She laid her hands over his, her fingers lacing with his talons as he slipped them beneath her shirt. Her stomach muscles jumped and shuddered under his rough, calloused palms, the need in his touch sending every nerve into FTL.
"That your skin will glow nearly as silver as mine in this light." He nipped the curve of her neck, the points of his teeth teasing her skin into gooseflesh. "Care to find out?" Without waiting for an answer, he pushed her shirt up, exposing her trembling flesh to the cool air, the breeze still damp from the earlier storms.
"Do you think your family and neighbours want to be included in this experiment of yours?" She grinned, heat flaring over her skin and up her thighs even as her gut flipped at the thought of someone happening to look out.
His hands caressed her ribcage, thumbs teasing the underside of her breasts. "My family is all asleep, except for Nihlus who is in his room, watching something that involves a great many explosions." He nuzzled beneath her ear, the hard tip of his tongue flicking at her earlobe. "As for our neighbours, none of them can see up here." Gentle, but insistent, he raked the points of his front teeth along her jaw, pulling a soft moan from her lips. "One of the perks to all the houses being built into the cliff: front facing windows only."
"Well then … ." Taking a deep breath, Shepard slid her hands off his and grasped the hem of her t-shirt, pulling it up until his arms got in the way. He released his grip on her to lay his hands over hers, helping ease the cotton up and over her head. Gentle talons stroked over her shoulders and down her back as she pulled the shirt off her arms.
A gust of breeze twisted between the plants and curled around Shepard's limbs. She shivered a little and backed in against Garrus, absorbing his heat. Reaching around herself, she grasped his hands and wrapped his arms back around her. "So, how are those observations going?" she asked, twisting a little to look up into his eyes.
"Results so far seem to be supporting my theory, but further testing will be necessary to arrive at a solid conclusion." He took a single step back and turned her to face him. Reaching up, he traced the lines of her collar bones with his thumbs. "You are always the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Each day reveals a new aspect to that beauty. Watching you with my mari and Sol today … ."
His breath caught, and he shook his head as if to clear it. His talons slipped along the underside of her arms, raising them out away from her sides. "In this light … ." His subvocals thrummed. "Just look at you. My tiny praela."
Eyes prickling with warmth, she reached up to take his face between her hands. "You're a hopeless romantic, Callor." Easing him down to kiss her, she wrapped her arms around his neck. "And I love that about you," she whispered against his mouth plates.
"I never was," he replied, brushing the rim of her lips with a feather-light touch. "I don't know what happened when you walked into Chloe Michel's clinic, but whatever it was, it rearranged every cell … every neuron." He pulled her in, light caresses turning into a heated, hungry kiss that lifted her off her feet.
When his one arm slid down to support her backside, Shepard wrapped her legs around his waist, his pelvis cradling her thighs. Their mouths speaking oaths of love and devotion that required no words, they clung to one another, two spots of light and warmth desperate to find solid, safe harbour in the darkness. He carried her to a long, low chaise against the back wall, breaking the kiss with a soft grumble of reluctance.
Shepard moaned soft and low, protesting as her lips followed him, soft, moist kisses tugging at the upper plate of his mouth.
"We'll never get you out of those trousers in this position, and I won't be able to conclude my observations," he whispered, his mouth wandering across her cheek to her ear. A long sigh whistled from his nostrils, tickling through the short, fine hair at the nape of her neck. It resonated heavily enough to send shivers down her spine. Tightening his grip on her, he sat on the edge of the chaise. "I want you to go talk to Nihlus," he whispered, his tone confessional. "I want you two to settle what you are and what you want to be before he goes to Illium."
Shepard drew back, releasing her grip on his neck and waist as she leaned back, confusion meeting the love and devotion staring back at her. "Garrus?"
He brushed a kiss against her lips. "Do you want him to head out there, to start dredging up all that hurt and betrayal without this anchor?"
Shepard sighed and relaxed into his embrace, melting against him. "No, of course I don't." She burrowed her face in against his neck, head cradled by his cowl. "This scares me, Callor. It scares the living hell out of me. I'm a screw up. Haven't you noticed that, yet? One wrong move and I could end up losing you both."
Those big, rough hands caressed her back, gentle over the healing wounds. "We swore an oath, Kahri." He cleared his throat. "Didn't we?"
"We never walk away," she whispered, kissing the spot where his pulse beat hard and fast, the arteries exposed just under the skin. She pressed her eyes closed, savouring the strong, gorgeous … aliveness … of him.
He nodded, his chin bumping her, his mandible sweeping through her hair. "We never walk away." Drawing back, he extricated himself from her embrace, gentle and loving. "That's what this is about." His mandibles swept a wide arc, his gaze faltering a little with bashfulness. "Right now … it's about making a promise." Looking up and meeting her gaze, he shrugged, a slight dip of his head. "Stand up, so I can get your clothes off?" The tips of his talons raked her neck then followed the hollow above her collarbone out to her shoulder, their edges sending a fiery, electric tickle arcing over her skin. "We have far too much material between us."
Shepard wriggled her way off his lap to stand between his thighs. Letting out a long breath, she placed her hands just inside his cowl, on either side of his keel. She stared into his eyes, her hands wandering a little, teasing the inside border of his cowl until a steady, almost purr-like rumble rolled in his throat. "A promise?" she asked at last, a tiny, crooked smile meeting his chorus of contentment and pleasure.
His hands wrapped around the balls of her shoulders, guiding her a step closer before they slipped down her arms to wrap her fingers in his. "Each night of the turian bonding ceremony the bonding couple perform a private, ritual bonding." A smile fluttered over his mandibles when her eyebrows raised at the words 'each night', the warmth and hope in it setting her heart fluttering as well. "Yes, a really good bonding party can run three or four days."
Another long sigh caressed her neck as he lifted her hands to his chest, pressing them against the warmth of his plates. "The daytime is about the clan, about bringing two families together to support the new couple and the family they're creating." His talons moved to the fasteners on her trousers, unsnapping and zipping, then laying the sides open, exposing the soft expanse of her lower belly. "The nighttime, however, is about the bond-mates sealing a promise between them. A promise sealed with words and oil, hands … " The backs of his talons brushed her belly with the softest of touches. "... and bodies."
Shepard leaned close, pressing her breasts against his chest as her arms snaked around his neck to tease the underside of his fringe. Thumbs slipping inside the waistband, he eased her trousers and panties off her hips. Talons spread, he cupped her backside, pulling her in tighter, pressing her against his body as if trying to meld her into his plates. The trousers slid down her thighs, his touch so warm on the backs of her legs that it almost burned. Then the material let go, falling to pool around her feet. She stepped clear, giving them a little kick behind her.
Garrus disentangled himself from her arms and turned, settling himself on the chaise with his back pressed against the arm, his legs crossed in front of him on the long seat. Shepard watched him, admiring the surety in his movement, the beauty of his form. The air licked along the line of her spine, its tongue all the icier for the want of being pressed into the envelope of his warmth. And then he held out his hand.
"Do you trust me?" he asked without even the smallest trace of humour.
She nodded and wrapped her fingers around his talons. "With everything."
Nodding as if he'd known, but wanted to hear the words, he patted his thigh. "Climb on up here then."
He helped steady her as she stepped up onto the chaise and lowered herself to sit in the cradle of his legs, her calves wrapped around his waist. A smile tinted in shades of silver and blue greeted her subtle wriggling as she made herself more comfortable, nestling in until they fit together, two parts of an unusual, but wonderful, whole.
Arms and body enveloping her, he formed a perfect haven, a shelter of safety and love. His cheek and mandible brushed hers as he drew her in. "If this is uncomfortable for you, tell me," he whispered, nuzzling just behind her ear. "I don't want to hurt you."
Shepard curled into him, her hand sliding up the long, smooth plates of his chest. "I promise, I'll say something, but I think we'll be fine." Loving fingers traced the lines and shadowed planes of his face. She leaned in and pressed soft kisses to his chin, mouth, nose, and brow. "So, tell me about these promises."
He cleared his throat. "You might have noticed that turians are deeply entrenched in their traditions." A soft chuckle greeted her nod, and he tipped his head to touch his brow to hers. "Things like the bonding ceremony haven't changed all that much since we lived in caves along these cliffs." His hands covered her back, talons spread, thumbs sweeping back and forth across unmarred skin. She tucked her head under his chin, cuddling in against him.
He nuzzled her hair, then continued, "Back then, bonds were made for practical reasons—political and economic alliances or genetic diversity—as often as they were made for love, so the intimate part of the ceremony was about promising to take care of one another and offspring regardless of what came along. It was about developing trust." Chuffing softly, he pulled back, a knuckle under her chin tilting her face up until their eyes met. "It probably doesn't make sense in a human context, but when you have these … " He held up his talons so she could see the veritable knives that tipped them. "... touch becomes so much more than hide on hide."
Shepard nodded and reached up, lacing her fingers with his talons. "Like the touch without gloves showing willingness for a deeper relationship."
"Yes." Freeing his talons from her grip, he ran the pad of his thumb down the groove of her throat and between her clavicles. "Just as this touch is a promise that you are safe with me, that you never have to guard yourself in my presence."
Shepard slipped her thumb down the long curve of his throat and over the steady thump of his pulsing arteries at his keel. "The oil and massage you did before we left Omega, that's a part of it, too?"
"A big part of it, yes." His hands returned to her back, spreading out over her shoulder blades. "Lie back and just let yourself soften. I've got you."
Despite trusting Garrus implicitly, the moment she leaned back, her arms lifted, determined to ward her tender, exposed front. He merely smiled, his gaze locked onto hers. "It's all right, Kahri. Hold onto my arms if it helps."
She laid her palms against the taut lines of his biceps, the muscles coiled and alive beneath her touch. They trembled slightly, as if the weight they bore far outstripped her forty-five kilos, and suddenly, the picture snapped into focus. What he offered solidified in her mind, but more importantly, in her heart. Garrus wasn't just holding her body. Those arms, so strong and steady, held her: everything she'd ever been, everything she'd ever become, her heart and her mind … her soul ... all held just as safely and just as reverently as he cradled her form.
That was the promise. He had her, and he always would.
A long breath escaped as she surrendered into his embrace, the ice melting from the muscles in her neck and down her back, allowing her head to loll back, hanging bonelessly from her shoulders. Slowly, her grip on his arms eased and her hands slid free, arms hanging down and to the side. Her calves released their grip on his hips, the last holdout of tension spiriting into the ether, riding a gentle moan that uttered her promise in return.
I am yours, my trust and faith absolute.
He shifted her so that one arm held her. The other hand pressed against her throat, talons spread. She could feel the echo of her pulse thumping hard and quick against the pad of his thumb. Eyes slipping closed, she focused on where their bodies met: the hard length of his legs folded beneath her, the solid weight of his plates pressed against her sex, his one arm holding her while the other caressed the length of her torso. The tips of those talons traced lines of intense sensation that coalesced into a mass of pleasure and need aching across the expanse of her pelvis and down into her thighs.
Pressing his hand against her lower belly, Garrus said, "Everything you are and everything that flows from you, I accept as part of me. Everything that I am and everything that flows from me, I place in your care, if you accept it."
Shepard sat up, wriggling her hips closer to him. Heart pounding so hard it made the world pulse with its beat, she took his face between her hands. Bright, golden ingots of sunshine flared into being within her as his words and his touch resonated. Feeling blessed beyond measure, she offered him a smile of devotion and nodded. "I accept it. Of course I accept it." Leaning in, she pressed a soft kiss against the upper plate of his mouth, then whispered, "Do I say it back?"
"Yes." His voice came out strained and flat, as if the word had to squeeze through a pinhole.
She kissed him again. Despite having thought it, and even sang the idea out loud in her duet with Jenkins, she found herself amazed and humbled anew by the fact that the powers that be thought she deserved someone so remarkable.
Despite her sad talons offering no threat—she didn't even let her fingernails get past the thinnest moon of white at the ends—Shepard pressed her spread fingers just beneath his jaw, then raked them down his throat and over his keel to his belly. "Everything you are and everything that flows from you, I accept as part of me. Everything that I am and everything that flows from me, I place in your care, if you accept it." She stroked her thumb across the top of his plates, biting her lip as they moved easily.
"I accept it." He slipped his other arm around behind her, adjust his grip so that his talons curled around her shoulders. His eyes searched hers, asking without words if she also accepted his making love to her in the traditional way.
She nodded and tipped her pelvis, a soft smile greeting the moan of need that rolled from him as he felt how ready she was for him. They'd spent far too long finding their way to that place, so long that he never had to wonder if she wanted to feel his hands and mouth on her … to feel him inside her. Of course, she knew he would always ask.
He eased free of his plates, slipping directly into her as he pulled her into him. She laid back on his arms, eyes closed, her entire body soft and accepting, focusing on the myriad of sensations playing her senses like a complex instrument. Streams of his breath seared hot where they made contact, chilling as they fanned out, teasing the fine hairs on her skin until gooseflesh covered every inch of her. An intense pressure followed the delicious slide of skin against skin—god the amazing ache of that pressure—as he seated himself inside her, filling her more and more tightly as the seconds passed. The rasp of his palms, the moist brand of his tongue teasing her flesh … it all tossed her back and forth until it drew a thin, whining moan of combined bliss and torment from her throat.
Giving back as good as she got, her nimble fingers sought out all the places that made him rumble, his muscles shuddering with a pleasure that built until he drew her in, arms wrapped so tight around her that pain joined the exquisite chorus.
"Kahri," he said, his voice strained through the heavy rumble of subvocals, "I want to do something, but … ." He cleared his throat and loosened his hold on her a little.
She smiled at the long breaths he drew in, his struggle to pull back tying an unbreakable, gossamer thread between her heart and his. Her hands lifted to cradle his face, thumbs caressing the hard lines. "It's okay, Callor. Just tell me, I'm not afraid."
"It's another tradition." His mandibles did the small, helpless flail of bashfulness. "A vestige of a by-gone era." He nuzzled her lips, his breath more sweet than metallic on her tongue. "It's fallen out of favour. People say it's too close to our 'barbaric' past, but I think its declining popularity has to do with bond-mates becoming more and more … transitory … disposable."
His discomfort, his struggle to find the words twined around her heart, squeezing it until it begged her to intercede. "So it's a beautiful wall, but inconvenient because it's meant to stand forever?" She kissed him, lips tugging at his mouth a little as she leaned back into the cradle of his arms.
He nodded, mandibles fluttering ever so slightly. His eyes shone, bright in the moonlight, gleaming with emotion. Blessed Enkindlers, he was beautiful. Sucking in a long breath that whistled a little, he continued, "When a torin has decided on a mate … um, when emotional and physical elements come together, he … he secretes cells into his … saliva."
Shepard smiled and nipped the edge of his mandible. "Scent marking," she said, sparing him. "He digs a tooth into some soft, fleshy part and claims her." She slipped her arms around his neck and squeezed all the muscles through her pelvis tight around him, pulsing them until a soft keen rode the underside of his every breath. "I'm yours, Garrus, and you don't have to prove anything to me." She pulled him down until their brows touched and closed her eyes, breathing him in. "But, I love the idea of building that beautiful wall around us."
"Spirits," he whispered, drawing her in, his face pressed to the curve of her neck. "I love you."
One hand slipped between them, his talon-pads teasing her most sensitive spots until she clung to him, sweat pouring over her skin, her belly aching with a pressure she couldn't ease. Then a small, vivid pain pinched the skin at the base of her neck, just above her clavicle, tipping her over the edge.
Orgasm gripped them both. Heavy waves crashed through Shepard's body, her muscles clenching so hard they threatened to spasm, wringing her out until she collapsed, limp weight in her dilan's arms.
Holding her tight, Garrus shifted until they lay side by side on the chaise, his warmth stretched out along hers. He kissed her, then caressed the small spot of blood on her neck.
Smiling at the wonder in his expression, she laid her hand over his. "Are you still sure about everything … with Nihlus?" she whispered, squeezing his talons.
"Yes," he replied between kisses. "Go to him." Pulling back, he looked into her eyes, his hand caressing her cheek. "Talk to him, and if you choose to honour what you feel for him, you can, knowing that we're forever." He kissed her. "And as soon as we get even the smallest break, I'm going to fasten my coillasi around your wrists."
She returned his kisses, the most amazing peace settling through her as the furious grip of pleasure eased. "Does this mean that we're engaged?"
He nodded. "It does, and within the month, I intend for you to be my wife."
Shepard's knuckles rapped loud and hollow against the carved wood of Nihlus's door, the sound echoing down the hall. She winced and glanced behind her, ears straining to hear any sign that she'd awakened the house. Despite the fact that they all supported it, the sting of human moral judgement hung over her, a heavy weight of shame and embarrassment. She didn't want witnesses to her surrender.
For a moment, she hesitated on the cusp of turning and running back to Garrus's bed to burrow in next to him. If being with both torins felt so wrong to her, why was she even considering talking to Nihlus about it? She tried to turn and walk away, but the promises she and Garrus had woven between them held her in place. Damn it! Her Callor knew her altogether too well. He'd known that she'd never risk going after what she wanted without the solid anchor he'd provided, and that once he had, she wouldn't be able to do anything but.
"Do you really want this?" she whispered despite having asked herself the same question at least ten times while she showered. "Is this cold feet, or a warning you should be listening to?" She lifted a hand, pressing it to the warm, smooth wood. "Everything else aside, do you love them both enough to jump off this cliff?"
Footsteps approached the door, quickly rendering any decision to leave moot. "Decide, damn it. Do you want this?"
Don't be stupid, Janey. You know the answer is yes. Everything else aside, if you let go of all the worries about what the rest of the universe will think and all the insecurities about screwing it up, you know you want them both.
The door opened. Nihlus scowled through the crack at her, the shuttered distance in his eyes smashing apart her doubts, replacing them with fear. Something had changed since dinner. The three of them cooked for the family, joking and rough housing. It had been fun. Right then, the stare coming through the narrow space could have belonged to someone else entirely.
"May I come in?" she asked. He stiffened, and the door closed a little. Shepard's hand jumped up, slapping softly against the wood. Of all the nights for him to decide to shut her out. Damn. His good, steady heart had been through so much pain, so she couldn't blame him for protecting it. And yes, she'd been adamant in her refusal to consider a poly relationship, but he just needed to hang onto hope for another five minutes.
"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" he asked, the chill in his voice raising the hair on her arms. He glared at her hand and held the door almost closed, barricaded against her.
Shepard nodded, the defensiveness in his stare, the rigid set to his mandibles dropping her heart down into her guts. Had he seen she and Garrus out in the garden? A sick sort of panic reached down her throat. "Yeah, it's late, but I want to talk to you for a few minutes before we head in two different directions tomorrow." When he hesitated, his face hardening, she stepped closer the door, terrified that he'd shut it in her face. "Please, Nihlus."
He stared at her for long seconds, a war going on in the shadowed green gaze. As much as she wanted to protest everything she saw there, to beg him to not shut her out, she stayed quiet, letting him decide how much risk he could tolerate.
"Yeah, sure," he said at last. A soft, almost sob of relief trickled between her lips, but she bit it off. He stepped back and held the door open. "Come on in." When she stepped through, he closed it behind her then turned, his arms folded over his chest. Damn, he'd never felt so closed off. He had to have seen them in the garden, and believed it meant the end to his hope. She glanced around the warm, comfortable space before turning to face him.
Nihlus's room had obviously been a guest room before Garrus brought him home. It didn't have much to identify it as his space other than his armour hung neatly from a rack in the corner and his gun cases leaning against the wall. Of course, she supposed he didn't spend enough time there to worry about claiming it. In the end, rooms didn't matter. It was his home because the people within loved him.
"What do you want to talk about, Shepard?" He stepped around her to the bed and picked up the remote for the vid screen, muting the air car chase exploding across its expanse. "If it's just to give me bad news, that could've waited until we all got back to Omega."
She winced at the use of her surname, his formality striking a heavy blow straight to her gut. "You saw Garrus and I out in the garden, didn't you?" she asked, following him. When he didn't answer, looking away to the vid screen instead, she nodded. "I'll take that as a yes." She stepped between him and the vid. "After you left me to talk to Trea this morning, Garrus and I had a talk about our future."
The Spectre stiffened and nodded. "Yeah, I saw what you decided." He glanced at her neck for a split second before looking back at the screen. "Congratulations. Thank you for letting me know."
Shepard stepped toward him, reaching out for his hand. He flinched away from her touch, landing another solid hit. "Nihlus—"
He shook his head. "I appreciate your concern, but I'll be fine. Just … just don't touch me. Please. Respect that it's going to take me some time to be okay with … all of it."
"Nihlus—"
He stepped around her, ducking the hand that she kept extended toward him. "My vid is just about over, and I need to get some sleep." Without sparing her another glance, he strode to the door and opened it.
"Nihlus, you big idiot," she said, frustration exploding before she lowered her voice into a soft growl that didn't carry out the door. She angled toward him, all threat and spines and barbs. "Stow the Spectre Kryik pity party. Just shut the damned door, come here, sit down, and fucking listen to me for three seconds." A sharp, exasperated huff of air cut the air between them, demanding as much as her words. When he dared meet her eyes, she locked onto him, glaring until he did as she'd said, closing the door and returning to sit on the end of the bed.
"Thank you." A pointed exhalation drained the sudden burst of fury, and she raked both hands through her still wet hair. "Holy blessed Enkindlers, when you get something stuck in your head, it just binds up the gears, doesn't it?" Casting off the quick flare of frustration, she closed on him a step. "Yes, you saw Garrus and I out in the garden, but you've got what it meant all jammed in there sideways and upside down."
"You made promises tonight," Nihlus replied, his voice low, each word measured.
She nodded. "Yeah, we did." She waggled her head. "Well, we'd already made the promises before, but we set them in flesh and blood tonight, yeah." Closing the rest of the distance between them, she reached out and pressed a hand against his mandible, turning his face until his eyes stared into hers. "But Garrus initiated it so that I'd have a foundation I trusted in order to come in here tonight and tell you that I love you."
She smiled at the sudden hope in his eyes, a match blazing for the briefest of seconds before being blown out. Caressing the upper edge of his mandible with her thumb, she said, "I'm in love with you, Nihlus, and despite all the time and effort I've put into trying to talk myself out of it, it's not something that I want to give up." A small murmur of surrender rode the leading edge of a deep shrug. "It's not something I can give up, and if the two of you can live with sharing my heart, my body, and my time, then all right. It's a dream worth pursuing."
She laughed, the sound a soft, sweet sigh of relief as he reached up, laying his hand over hers. His expression remained shuttered, as if afraid that he was hearing her wrong, so she leaned and pressed her lips against his mouth, a chaste kiss. "I've tried," she said, her lips a finger's width from his mouth. "Heaven knows I've tried to shake it, but I can't. I want that future we saw on Thessia."
Mouth opening, he inhaled, the starving gasp of a diver surfacing from depths so fathomless and dark that he'd believed himself lost. "Haksaya kubenar." The endearment whispered out on the last of that breath, then his arms slipped around her, pulling her in tight against the right side of his chest.
She relaxed into him, arms wrapped around his neck, her cheek pressed to his, giving him time to process their new status. "I'm going to marry him," Shepard said after a long moment, breaking through the quick thump of their pulses. Leaning back, she gazed into Nihlus's eyes, loving what she saw there. She smiled and caressed his face, her fingers following the beautiful sweeping lines of white, admiring how they deepened the reds in his chocolate-coloured hide. "I'm going to marry you, too, if you'll have me, but he … no ... you both deserve to know where you stand, always."
Nihlus pulled her back into his arms and nuzzled along her shoulder. Turning his face into her, he breathed deep and slow, his exhalations tickling the fine hairs at the nape of her neck. "He comes first, Jane," he said at last.
She nodded, grateful, but not surprised, that he understood. A warm, silken ribbon of affection, respect, and devotion wound through her. Allowing that to spool out through her voice, she said, "He does, but not because he's a better torin, nor because I love him more." She could say that honestly. The way that Nihlus had taken care of her after she arrived at Archangel and then again on Thessia had erased all of the stupid and hurtful things he'd done, anchoring himself solidly inside her heart.
"He's the glue that makes it all work." The Spectre chuckled, warm and throaty. The timbre of it rumbled through her, easing her deeper into his embrace. "Even the war will come down to him getting you and the rest of us through it. He deserves to have that security … to know that when we make decisions, he's our priority."
Shepard kissed him, then smiled against the rigid plates. "You've come a very long way since that day on the Normandy, Spectre Kryik. I'm in awe." She nudged his thighs together so she could sit astride them, then wrapped her arms around his neck. Breathing in the warm, desert and spice scent of him, she closed her eyes and relaxed into his arms. He rubbed her back, careful of the web of wounds, but not too careful. She loved that he didn't slap caution tape up around her … that he saw nothing fragile in her.
He slid his hands beneath the hem of her t-shirt, the touch easing a small, nagging whisper in the back of her head about the complications of being intimately involved with both he and Garrus. Despite the familiar, calloused warmth of the palms that wrapped around her waist, the energy behind that touch could never be confused with Garrus's. They were two very different torins, and despite the ferocity of her love for each, her love for both was unique.
Gentle nips teased the skin of her neck. "I don't want to backslide at all, Jane, but I really want to be invasive of your personal space." The talons of one hand slipped beneath the elastic waistband clinging to her hips, and his tongue slid along the underside of her jaw. "And your person."
Grinning, she pulled back to look into his eyes. "You're okay with all this? I mean, really okay? Not, I'll say I'm okay, but every minute she spends with him is going to kill me a little more?"
He nuzzled her lips. "I'm really okay with it." He ducked his head a little, smiling, but the flutter of his mandibles could only be called bashful. "You know that I've loved you in some form or another for a decade. As long as what time I have with you is mine, as long as when you're with me, you're completely with me, I'm fine." Reaching up, he wrapped the talons of one hand around her wrist, drawing it down between them. He stroked the soft, sensitive skin on the inside of her wrist with the pad of his thumb, then raised it to his mouth and nuzzled it. "I never dared dream that one day I'd wrap my coillasi around your wrists … wear yours … that I'd call you mine."
She pressed her hand against his mandible, caressing along his cheekbone. Smiling as he closed his eyes and leaned into her, she let out a long breath. "I am yours, Nihlus. I'm as much yours as I am his. I could never have imagined the situation we're in, but choosing one of you means cutting half of my heart out." Leaning in, she kissed him, softly at first, but then he loosened the shackles holding the fire at bay.
"If you want to shut this down, do it now," he gasped against her mouth, his breath sweet and hot and metallic on her tongue. His hands tightened on her, pulling her into him even as he waited for her answer.
Replying with a kiss, Shepard let the flames leap the barriers and whispered. "I want you, Cikabekni. We have some foundations to lay and some dating to do before we hit any home runs, but I want you." She grinned. "I've had a pretty great day, I'm sober, not the least bit terrified of what I feel for someone else, and I have absolutely no washroom floor on my face." She flicked the edge of his mouth plate with her tongue. "And I really want you to kiss me until my toes curl." When he responded in kind, she trapped his tongue between her teeth, nipping lightly.
All the breathless ardour of the kiss on Illium returned, but instead of terrifying her, the Spectre's passion seared through her, taking root. His hands caressed and kneaded, drawing her in tighter, forming her to his body.
Then he stood, cradling her in his arms, and carried her around the bed. "Are you staying?" he asked, a breathy whisper that caressed the heated skin of her neck.
"I am, but … ." She hesitated, not wanting to shut him down, but her thighs and the region between warned her that she was going to be forced into a very awkward conversation with the doc—not to mention possible transplant surgery—the next day if she attempted intercourse a second time that night. Well, and they needed time to lay foundations of their own, to develop a trust as solid as she'd built with Garrus.
The Spectre chuckled and nodded. "It's okay Jane. It's too early for that," he said, reassuring her. "I just want to wrap myself around you for as long as I can before morning steals you away." He let out a deep rumble with enough form to be words rather than subvocals alone, then turned his face into her neck.
After a moment, she braced a hand against his cowl and pushed back, feeling the cool tracks of tears on her skin. "Nihlus?"
He stared down at her without meeting her eyes. "I'm fine, Jane. I just … ." His mandible flailed a little. "Thank you."
She nodded and laid her hand alongside his cheek, turning his face into her kisses. "Come on," she said, "let's get into bed, dilan."
He sucked in a long, shaky gasp and smiled. "Dilan?" A talon touched the small scab on her neck.
She shrugged then pressed her brow against his cheek. "Well, eventually you're going to have to do a hell of a job making it official, but yes, you're stuck with me, Spectre."