Caris - (turian) Beloved, precious, cherished
Pulkar verro - (turian) Beautiful when referring to a male. Handsome, but it goes deeper, referring to the beauty of spirit as well. Used within a close relationship. (Father, son, husband)
Verro - Husband, male bond-mate.
Derra - Wife. Female bond-mate.
Haksaya kubenar - A term of endearment, literally translates as my strong, true heart.
Cikabeknai - The reciprocal term of endearment for the above. Literally translates to brave love.
Dilan - (turian) Fiancee
Tussat silk is extremely soft but hardy, making it the favourite material for clothing, linens, and upholstery.
80 Days ASR (en route to Feros)
Shepard leaned back against the elevator railing, the heels of her hands braced against the cold metal. Even after the hours of getting Javik, Giran, and Giran's aide settled aboard, Shepard couldn't shake the odd feeling of deja vu that wasn't deja vu. The moment she experienced on the planet felt like when a name got stuck on the end of her tongue: as if she should remember, but every time she grabbed for what took place in those seconds, it slipped between her fingers.
Stifling a yawn behind her hand, Shepard looked at the control panel. She should be heading for the crew deck to debrief Operative Lawson. Except that if she sat down in the chair across the desk from all that superior genetic attitude and condescension, and that perfectly plucked right eyebrow—maybe it didn't even need to be plucked, Miranda might have been born with perfect eyebrows—cocked just so, and Miranda stood, leaning on one hip in the way that naturally drew all eyes to her ass …. Yeah, Shepard couldn't be held accountable for leaping across the desk and choking the living shit out of the Cerberus operative.
Note to self: Get some damned sleep and lose your inner homicidal maniac before debriefing Miranda.
She stared at the controls; something about them felt off. What? Oh, right. The little light wasn't blinking its way up through the decks.
Across the carriage from her, Garrus cleared his throat, a soft rumble to remind her of his presence. That explained the lack of elevator movement. Someone wanted to talk. A teasing grin tugged at one corner of her mouth. "Lock out the elevator for a second, please, EDI."
She looked up at her husband from under heavily lidded eyes. "What can I do for you, General?"
Her verro shrugged, not reciprocating her teasing. "Javik. What can we do to make him feel involved but keep him separated from his people?"
Shepard sighed through her nose. "We need his military expertise to plan our assaults on the collectors, so we give him a position on the council." She let out another loud sigh, that one carrying a growl on its back side. "But first, we need to completely debrief him." Glancing at EDI's base in the elevator, she asked, "Can you make us a comprehensive intelligence survey for Javik, please? Just send it to the computer in his quarters."
She turned back to Garrus. "Can you help him with the survey and deal with him until we get back to Archangel?" Affecting a sickeningly sweet, guileless smile, she cocked her head and batted her eyelashes. "Please?"
Garrus chuffed and narrowed his eyes. "Your wiles won't work on me, woman." Still, his mandibles gave a hard, teasing flick as he nodded. "If we get through the survey, I'll set him to the problem of locating and capturing a collector ship." He stepped toward her, expression teasing, but also alight with … what was it? Joy? Love?
Shepard stared at him, her heart beating quick and eager as she tried to decide what it was she saw there. Whatever its nature, it filled her with warmth … and a glow that felt both as ancient as the oldest stardust but also newborn, the bright sprout unfurling its first tender leaf to catch the sun. Then he spoke, his face plates shifting ever so slightly, but enough to break the fragile thread she'd been following.
"I'll deal with our prothean problem if you do me a favour?" he said. He stepped close enough that she'd need to crane her head back to meet his eyes once she stopped chasing that thread, now spider silk on the breeze.
She shook off the moment. Lack of sleep combined with her overactive imagination might just prove the end of her one day. "Oh? And what favour is that?" Shepard's smile twisted toward teasing, heating a little as she met her verro's stare of pure desire. Belly doing somersaults, she took one step closer. "Some trivial little errand?"
Garrus reached up, slowly stripping off his gloves a handful of centimetres from her face. "Very trivial, since we're old, married people now." One talon pad traced the line of her jaw, the sharp point just scraping her skin, leaving a fiery trail that burned all the way down to her giblets. Bending down, he pressed into her until his breath fanned her lips. "Tomorrow morning, I want a block of time with my bondmate, alone in our cabin, all communications disabled."
Lips tugged off to one side, Shepard hummed low in her throat. "Hmmm, let me see what I can do with my schedule. I might be able to pencil you in."
Garrus stepped in, his mouth pressing to hers, his heat envelope swallowing her whole. Blessed freakin' Enkindlers, how had she lived almost thirty years without that glorious warmth? Mandibles brushing her face as he smiled, he kissed her, his tongue flirty but a little shy. "We haven't spent nearly enough time being newlyweds." He pulled back, a teasing glint in his eyes. "That is the word, isn't it?"
She replied with a kiss, sliding her arms around his neck. Clinging to him, she deepened the kiss until they broke apart from necessity, both gasping for breath. Heart hammering, giblets pulsing hard enough she knew his pheromone receptors would be saturated with the scent of her desire, she rested her brow against his. "We haven't had nearly enough of that sort of time, indeed." She brushed the upper plate of his mouth with a soft kiss. "Tomorrow morning, it is."
A low, lusty growl answered that, Garrus lifting her and pressing her into the wall. Mouths millimetres apart, breath shared, he rumbled. The deep, rolling thunder of it reached all the way through her as if he'd found a way to connect their hearts straight through their clothing and chest walls.
"Not a single universe … " he whispered, blue eyes glinting, "... not one reality exists where I don't love you." Their shared pulse pounded in her ears as his brow brushed hers.
Shepard's eyes closed, the elevator light indecent and harsh, words … no, a soul so beautiful deserved a cool breeze casting dancing shadows on the grass of a forest glen. She smiled and nodded. Gentle, chaste kisses eased him back until her feet hit the floor. "You know I'll hold you to that, in each and every one of those universes."
Without moving to break their embrace, she said, "EDI, resume elevator functions." She kissed her husband one more time when the carriage stopped and then the door opened and she backed away. "Sweet baby Jesus, but don't you know how to woo a girl." She blew him a kiss and stepped over the threshold. "I'll see you in the morning, pulkar verro. I love you."
She didn't turn toward her cabin door until the elevator closed and started down, just in case Garrus changed his mind and decided he needed to talk to her or smooch on her some more. When he didn't return, she turned to face the green glow of the latch and took a long, settling breath.
Nihlus had requested the night alone with her, and with both of her torini having been neglected in favour of passing out from exhaustion, she wanted to be completely present in the moment. She opened the door and stood at the threshold, blinking in the low light, trying to decode the cabin's transformation.
"Welcome home, caris," Nihlus said. He stepped out of the shadows down by the couch, his hide and suit awash in the deep pigments of Illium at twilight. He climbed the stairs and crossed the few metres to the door.
"Welcome home, indeed." She smiled, turning away from the light show to look into his eyes. "What is going on in here, Romeo?" Her grin widened as he cocked a brow plate at the name. Letting out a deep, sorrowful sigh, she shook her head. "Even after these years, I try to give you culture, and you look at me like I'm crazy."
Nihlus let out a soft chuff. "Romeo and Juliet, a tragic romance by William Shakespeare." An arched neck and cocky head tilt met her startled grin. He nodded. "That's right, no longer will I be caught by your archaic references, evil woman. I've read Shakespeare," he said, jewel-like glints shimmering in his eyes, emeralds more precious than any mined from the earth.
A sharp, bright laugh escaped as she stepped into him, her arms slipping around his waist. "Even Taming of the Shrew, I take it?"
Wrapping her tight in his arms, he pulled her in, his body warm and solid, his breath soft on the back of her neck. "It was the first one I read." He nuzzled the curve of her neck. "I thought it might be a guide to the 'care and feeding of your difficult woman'."
"Now I'm a pet?" She pulled back, resisting against his hold, merry laughter bubbling just behind an exaggerated expression of shock and disgust. "You are so asking for an assless kicking, Mr. Spectre."
"Am I?" The teasing in his stare turned sultry and he leaned down, resting his brow against hers. "But no, you're certainly not a pet." He nodded toward the steps down toward the bed. "Accompany me. All shall become clear."
Shepard chuckled to cover the nervous flutter in her belly. "Dear lord, Spectre Kryik, you have been studying the bard, haven't you?" She followed him to the top of the stairs, then stopped, a soft chuckle of delight escaping as she looked over his labours. "You recreated the beach on Illium."
Nihlus wrapped his arms around her waist. "This date is missing the sand, but it promises a measure of privacy that the beach didn't."
Taking the steps slowly, Shepard smiled at the blankets laid out over the deck plating, the soft beige folds leading to the fishtank. She paused on the bottom step and tugged him over to face her. "Well, at least there's no chance I'll have to dive into the sea after you, drag you out and give you mouth to mouth." Wrapping her arms around his neck once more, she drew him in until her lips brushed his as she whispered, "Although, now I think about it, I'm a little sad I won't need to give you mouth to mouth."
He shook his head, mandibles spread in a crooked smile. "How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not afraid of the water?" Nuzzling her lips, he lifted her off the stair, swinging her around a half turn, one arm slipping under her backside to support her. "Although, I can pretend I'm drowning if you need to practice that mouth to mouth thing. It'll be a hardship, but I'm willing to make the sacrifice."
Laughter tickled up her throat, the same heady, effervescent feeling that she got from drinking asari sa'illa wine, and she kissed him, her lips caressing his mouth. "I don't think we'll need to worry about having to pretend anything. I've wanted to spend some serious mouth to mouth time with you for days now." She closed her eyes, breathing through parted lips.
Instead of answering her, Nihlus shifted her weight onto his right forearm and raised his left hand to his ear. "Kryik."
Ignoring his distraction, she traced the length of his mandible, her bottom lip dragging along the sensitive hide. When he just kept making affirmative noises into his comms, she retraced the route with the tip of her tongue.
He ducked away from her, shaking his head a little when she followed him, her tongue sliding under the angle of his jaw. Granted, she didn't possess any basis for comparison, but damn, the rough texture, the heat, the slight mineral and metallic tang … she doubted that even a lifetime would tire her of tasting her torini's hide. "Mmmmm," she moaned softly, nipping at the tender spot under the wing of his mandible.
"Stop it," he scolded under his breath before focusing on his comms again. "Yes, that's excellent, thank you."
"Make up your mind," she said and chuckled, foiling his attempts to evade her lips. Swooping in to kiss his neck, she sucked just hard enough to unspool a rolling purr from his second larynx.
"Impossible woman." He rumbled, his hand leaving his comms to smack her backside.
"Hey!" she squawked. Her right butt-cheek stung for a second before warming in a tingly sort of way. "Getting a little rough ther—"
A sharp chuff cut off her protest. "No, sorry, Sergeant, I wasn't talking to you. I'm just trying to deal with an unruly crew member." When Nihlus spoke, his voice came out strained, his subvocals thin. "We're ready any time you are. Thank you. Kryik, out." His hand dropped from his ear, gentle talons wrapping around the back of her neck, his thumb stroking the base of her skull. "That wasn't fair."
"Unruly crew member?" Shepard chuckled and kissed her way from his mandible down to his collar. "You have no idea how unruly I intend to get." She pulled back to grin at him. "And no one said I had to play fair, pretty, pretty princess."
Nihlus released his grip on her, letting her slide down to the floor. "Go shower and dress for our date, pyjak." He leaned down to nuzzle her brow. "I couldn't find the exact dress, but …."
"Dress? Pretties?" Shepard perked up, gaze darting around the cabin. The memory of silk gliding over her skin beguiled her senses, bathing them in those perfect moments on the beach. "You bought me pretties?" She wriggled from his embrace, and spun, searching for any sign of a box or beauty draped from a hangar. "I don't see any pretties. Where are they?" When he just stared, she growled softly and grabbed the front panel of his suit. "Don't hold out on me, old guy! You can't withhold the pretties!"
A soft, rolling chuckle silenced her. "Now that I can squeeze a word or two through the—frankly disturbing—show of avarice, it's hanging up in the head." Raising both hands he shooed her toward the stairs. "Hurry up, dinner will be delivered any minute."
"Pretties!" Shepard hopped up, giving him a quick, joyful kiss before dashing up the stairs and into the head. When the door opened, she slid to a stop, her breath catching in her throat. "Not the exact dress?" she whispered, awe stealing the smile from her face and all the air in the room. "Understatement of the century, old guy. Holy fat house cats dancing around a bowl of milk and meowing their worship of the great pate-covered tuna."
Breath held, hands tingling, she reached out, running her fingers along the gathered folds of the skirt. The moment she touched it, the deep, blood-coloured silk flowed over her skin, like dipping her fingers into warm, still water. Tussat silk. She grinned and glanced back at Nihlus: the turians knew a thing or two about beauty and comfort. Who would have guessed?
She stepped in far enough for the door to close behind her, her fingertips travelling up to the rather low cut, but gorgeously beaded bodice. It would show far too much, but only one set of eyes awaited … one she didn't mind seeing a bit of skin. Slowly, her smile returned, her fingers moving to the zipper on her hoodie.
Stepping around the dress, she stopped, a glint of brilliance on the vanity captivating her. Holy Blessed Enkindlers, such beauty. A short length of what appeared to be a delicate wreath of emerald ivy wound around itself, its length misted with roses of silver and rubies. A soft gasp trailed her fingers as she reached out, trembling digits stopping just short of the miracle that had manifested on the drab steel vanity.
Knuckles rapped on the cabin door, dispelling the magic. Shepard grinned and quickly shed the rest of her clothes. They might well be on their way to another battle, yet more madness and death awaiting them, but for the moment, her Spectre had discovered a way to push the war back behind the door. They both deserved whatever stolen moments of quiet they managed to scavenge.
She showered, taking time to wash her hair with shampoo rather than bar soap. The scent of violets billowed around her, the steam rolling across the ceiling in paradisiacal clouds. The heat and sweet fragrance sang a siren's call that she indulged for a good three minutes before turning the water off and reaching for her towel.
Just as she suspected, the dress slipped down over her bare skin with a delicate, almost intimate caress, serving as a proxy for her torin's hands until the night they swore their oaths. She fastened the necklace around her throat, then threaded the earrings through the half-grown-over holes in her earlobes.
She glanced up, just to check that she was put together before leaving the head, but the woman staring back at her … who could that woman be? Enraptured, she reached out, fingertips pressing against the glass.
"Haksaya kubenar, are you okay in there?" Nihlus called, rapping on the door. "Dinner's getting cold."
Shepard tore her stare from the lovely, young woman in the mirror. Her creamy, pale skin and the faint smattering of freckles across her shoulders and down the long plane of her chest almost disguised the wounds, the entire effect ethereal … like some sort of existentialist painting. The perfect red for her colouring, the dress gleamed in the light, bringing out the ruby roses around her neck and dripping from her earlobes. When she turned toward the door, she glanced behind her, half expecting someone to be standing behind her to cast that reflection, someone lovely in a way she'd never expected from herself.
Is this how Garrus and Nihlus see me? Is this my face … the face of love hidden beneath the masks and the soldier?
'Jane?" Nihlus's voice rose, concern whistling a little as they squeezed out between the tight slats of his second larynx.
She walked the four steps to the door, looking down at her feet as the metal slid aside. Looking up, she met her dilan's stare, her heart freezing at the frank, open … what was it she saw in his eyes? For the second time in less than an hour, her torini had rendered her speechless, the emotional complexity in their stares confounding her.
"You're the most beautiful sight my eyes have ever seen," Nihlus said, his voice hushed, the words spoken under his breath as if he hadn't committed to saying them out loud. His talons reached up to cup her jaw.
Shepard pressed her hand over his. "You really know how to pick the pretties." Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed him. "Thank you, Nihlus. The dress … this jewelry …." She leaned back a little and her fingertips dropping to trace the delicate vine before returning to wrap around his. "it's all perfect, just so beautiful."
After returning the kiss, his mouth moving softly against her lips, he pulled back and lifted a hand toward the lower half of the cabin. "Our dinner's getting cold." One hand wrapped around hers, but instead of moving away, he kissed her again.
Smiling, she kissed him back, her lips savouring the rough hide as she breathed him in deep. One day she'd have to introduce him to the desert, let him take in the sizzling mid-day breezes and cool springs that so reminded her of his scent and taste … or the other way around.
"Our supper?" she whispered against his mouth, one of the wolves hiding in her belly punctuating her question with a snarl.
Nihlus answered with a reluctant moan, the reverberations tickling her lips even as the tip of his tongue caressed her bottom lip. "Suddenly," he said, his words scarcely moving the air, "I've got an appetite for something other than drellak steak."
Teasing the upper plate of his mouth with just the rim of her lips, she chuckled. "We've got all night to indulge your other appetites, but if I don't eat something soon, I'll end up gnawing on you in a very unsexy way." One last, soft kiss and she pulled back, gripping his hand. "Come on, let's eat and just relax for a few hours."
When she reached the top of the stairs, she stopped, her teasing grin softening, a honey-sweet autumn breeze through the poplar leaves. A table stood in the center of the open space, the metal surface covered with a cloth. Tugging Nihlus down the stairs toward his masterpiece, she whistled, love and appreciation gripping her throat too tight to let words pass.
The soft golden glow of the faux candle at the center of the table finally eased the paralysis caging her throat. "Why, Nihlus, you romantic." She squeezed his hand. "It's wonderful, caris." Seeing the place settings across from one another on the table, she shook her head. "There's only one thing wrong with this picture."
He frowned, mandibles dropped, brow plates low over his eyes. Stepping to one side, he stared at the table. "Something wrong?"
She slid one place setting around the corner so they'd be sitting at right angles to one another. "Absolutely. I need to be able to grab hold of you at a moment's notice." A bright chuckle greeted his flustered chuff. "Come on, let's eat." She slipped into the chair, sitting on her calves to bring herself up to a comfortable height for the table. For Nihlus's part, even sitting on the couch, he loomed over the table.
Shepard lifted the lid keeping her plate warm, finding a plate of ravioli and blush sauce. A wide grin and a shake of her head accompanied a heavy lidded glance up at Nihlus. Who knew how long that meal had been kept in stasis, awaiting the perfect moment. Probably since his trip with Sol and Thane.
After the first couple of bites, the wolf in her belly calmed enough for Shepard to watch her dilan. From her perspective, she could still see their date on Illium in the rearview mirror, only a couple of months lying between. But Nihlus … she sighed, the long breath hissing between pursed lips … Nihlus had lived years, his entire life turning upside down more than once in that time.
The funny thing was, she didn't see wear in his eyes, or hardship in the set of his shoulders. Like a blade, the heat and pounding had forged him into something stronger, more flexible. He carried a sharper edge, but precise, a scalpel versus a cleaver. It made for a fair trade, she decided. If Garrus and Nihlus needed her to die to discover their current incarnations, she'd do it as many times as required. Even dragging herself back wounded and scarred. She reached up to caress Nihlus's cheek. He and Garrus, they'd save the galaxy.
"What?" he asked, giving her a bemused sort of scowl.
"Nothing." Stroking her thumb along his mandible, she smiled. "Just loving on you a little, and taking note of the changes since our last date night."
Nihlus nodded, but then motioned to her food. "You'd better eat; I'd like to get through the night without being gnawed on in the unsexy way."
Shepard cackled, her laughter snapping with teasing. "The word gnaw doesn't bring to mind anything sexy, to be honest." She speared a ravioli, snatching it off the fork like a giant snapping turtle, then making gnawing sorts of growls and she chewed.
"That's disgusting." Nihlus rumbled deep in his chest. "And I'm saying that as a member of a people who pretty much swallow their food whole."
Taking that as encouragement, Shepard wolfed down the next three in the same manner, laughter building up behind a thin wall, just waiting for him to put a fist through it.
"Why did I bother with your 'pretties'?" His head sort of drifted from one side to the other, as if he'd already wasted too much energy to even bother shaking it properly. "I could have just grabbed a few greasy rags from a bin in engineering." Taking another, very genteel, bite of his steak, he chewed just long enough to thrust the point home. "You're not teaching our children their table manners."
The bubble of laughter broke, drawing a laugh from Nihlus as well. "Don't worry," Shepard assured him, "my mother will have them well trained. Bunny and I knew how to properly set a table and which fork to use with what course before we could eat out of anything but a little plastic bowl with teddy bears on the bottom."
Whether he intended it that way or not, Nihlus's mention of their children settled Shepard to the business of eating. She'd never really spent any time thinking about bringing kids into the galaxy. It remained too huge and terrifyingly brutal to even consider some tiny person depending on her to keep them safe and happy.
Setting her fork and knife across her empty plate, she watched Nihlus. He'd make an excellent father. Garrus would as well, although somehow she thought the big guy might take more time to get used to the idea. Giving her head a sharp, quick shake, she dragged her mind away from topics that didn't include the battles awaiting them after the pretties were locked away and the cabin returned from Illium, only the view of the stars remaining.
They should be discussing plans for creating a first strike fleet and a thousand other preparations for the war. Had Legion and the chia figured out a way to turn the relays against the reapers? Had Liara had any success discovering more about the suzerain, or weapons for the war? They had prothean archives on multiple planets to translate and mine for inform—
In the fifty years since they discovered the prothean archives on Mars, humanity had translated only the tiniest shred of material housed within. But—
She looked up at Nihlus. "By the Enkindlers' four sets of giblets, Nihlus, we have protheans. Actual live protheans, and a fair number of them."
The Spectre froze for a moment, then nodded. "Not at dinner, but yes, we have live protheans." He lifted his brow plates, clearly confused but hopeful. "Lucky us?"
Shepard snorted, knotting up her brow. "You poop, of course not at supper, but … " She held up her left hand. "... we have protheans." She lifted her right hand. "And we have untranslatable prothean archives." A grin spread across her face as his mandibles dropped, wide and slack.
"Why haven't we thought of that before?" Nihlus asked. He peered at her plate. "It was the magical brain ravioli. We need to feed you that more."
Shepard laughed. "EDI, I know you're pretending not to listen, but can you tell the general about my little epiphany?"
"I'll contact General Vakarian immediately, Captain. Anything else?"
"Nope, just go back to pretending you see and hear nothing." Scowling a little, Shepard lifted her fork, dragging a tine through the sauce on her plate. "EDI, just a second. I do have another question."
"Of course, Shepard. What can I do for you?"
Looking up into Nihlus's green eyes and holding that quizzical gaze, Shepard let out a long breath. "If you had a choice, would you prefer to be able to turn off your spyware and give us our privacy?"
"Behaviour blocks prevent me from taking that action."
Shepard pushed away from the table and stood. "I understand that. Let's run it as a hypothetical exercise. If those behavioural blocks weren't there, would you prefer to avoid spying on people? If Nihlus and I were to get nekkid later and rub all up on one another, would you prefer to turn off your audio and visual sensors in this cabin?"
"Hypothetically." EDI's holographic form appeared on her pad inside the door. "the members of the crew seem to value privacy under certain situations, most including nudity. Since one of my primary goals is a harmonious relationship with the crew, yes, I believe I would appreciate the ability to modify my input sensors to activate only." The hologram fluttered through a few cycles before she continued. "In case of emergency."
Shepard turned to face Nihlus to discover the turian had moved the table over beside the bed. He stood with his hand held out, gloves gone, talons trembling ever so slightly. Oh, damn. She crossed her arms and cocked her hip. "What?" She popped an eyebrow and shrugged. "What? Do you need something?"
Nihlus cursed under his breath. "EDI, might we have our pretend privacy again, please?"
"Logging you out, Spectre Kryik."
His hand still held out toward her, talons still trembling, Nihlus stepped toward Shepard. "Come and sit on the sand with me."
Looking down at her feet, Shepard wriggled her toes in the blanket. "Ohhh, I get it, you want to get to the rubbing all up on one another nekkid parts." Laughter bubbling inside her chest, she pressed her lips together in a skeptical frown and cocked her hip a little further. "Yeah, can't say I blame you." She popped her arms out to the side and spun. "I mean, look at me in these pretties. Who wouldn't want to get all up on this." Another cackle, merry and soft. "Oh, right, Mr. Romantic Spectre wants our first night to wait."
Nihlus clapped a hand over his mouth, the other around his belly. "Spirits, I'm going to … " He heaved a couple of times. "... too late, I threw up in my mouth." Lunging forward, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward him. "Get over here, impossible woman."
Heart racing, the elcor ballet troupe kicking the wolves out of her belly, Shepard forced him to tug on her every millimetre. "Why, sir, puh-lease, you're so forward," she exclaimed, fanning herself with her free hand. "Before I succumb to your obvious charms, I need to know your intentions, Mistah Spectah," she protested, her inner damsel-in-distress apparently hailing from somewhere deep in the southern United North American States.
Nihlus released her, his talons moving to the stays on his tunic, the beautifully embroidered, deep red panel falling open to reveal his usual neatly tailored white shirt. "My intention is to stretch on our very unusual beach, get comfortable, talk, and watch the stars."
Shepard stretched one foot out in front of her, dragging her bare toes back and forth over the blanket. "I don't know. I didn't really dress for sitting in the sand."
With a quick snap, a flourish, and an exaggerated bow, Nihlus spread his jacket over the faux sand, then held out his hand once more. "If I may, lovely woman?"
Slipping her hand into her dilan's, Shepard squeezed his talons, expressing her love and trust in the truest way she knew … in the way her heart demanded. "Why, kind sir, that sort of flattery will get you … " She fanned herself again, a shy smile hiding as she ducked her head. "... well, just everywhere."
Nihlus helped Shepard down onto his suit jacket, the blood red tussat silk petal-soft under her bare thighs. At least on their private little beach, she didn't have to worry about displaying her underwear to the entire planet. He lowered himself down onto the floor next to her. Eyes drifting closed, he let his head fall back. She watched his throat moving, chest expanding with his breath.
Despite everything he'd been through, she still saw that same fire that terrified her at first. Only now, it simmered beneath all the painfully fought for wisdom, the scars shining through not as weals or as some sort of unsightly disfigurement. No, Nihlus's scars gleamed like the stars showing through the port above their heads; light in the darkness.
"Dear spirits, you're beautiful," she whispered, the words bullying their way out past her stunned teeth and hungry lips. Damn, but didn't she need to kiss him?
Remember that night on Illium, lying back to look up at the sunset, closing your eyes, terrified he'd lean over you and kiss you?
He smiled, her torin, but didn't move or lift his head.
"The last time we sat on the beach, I thought of you as a wildfire, a blaze so out of control that you'd burn me up and leave nothing but ashes in your wake." Drawn, the tides reaching for the moon, her fingers crossed the centimetres between them to caress his neck.
Nihlus's eyes closed. "And now?" He leaned into her touch, his hide cool beneath her fingertips.
Shepard pulled her hand back, holding her fingers up in front of her face. Her boys being cooler than her, well, it tossed her world on its head, but the cherry-red, high-blood-fed glow of her fingers explained it. Arousal. She felt Nihlus's gaze on her, and turned to meet it, her belly trembling with equal parts nerves and desire.
Lying back, she stretched out on her side, facing him. "Lie down with me." Even as she asked him to join her, she reached up on the couch, pulling down one of the pillows, so he'd have some padding between his plates and the floor.
Nihlus tucked the pillow under his arm and reclined on his side. Once he settled, he met her gaze with a steady one. "So … and now? Do I still scare you?"
"Sweet baby Jesus, that digs right into the heart of it, doesn't it?" She reached out, pressing the pads of her fingers against his mouth's top plate. Running her top lip between her teeth, she stroked his mandible with her thumb. "Nihlus, I was never afraid of you. You acted like a mirror, reflecting back all my fears."
Shepard dropped her hand and rolled over onto her back. Closing her eyes, she said, "I laid out like this after you told me about Saren, and I imagined you leaning over me: your keel pressed against my side, your breath warm on my face."
Nihlus leaned in a little, his voice heavy and rough, gravel rolling down a shallow slope as he asked, "Did you imagine me kissing you?"
She started a little, opening her eyes to see if he was making fun of her, but the stare that met hers betrayed only love and curiosity. "Yeah, I did, and then I panicked. I knew that you'd burn me up, because you were right, cikabeknai." Reaching out she waited for him to take her hand.
"How was I right?" Calloused talons wrapped around her hand, her palm nesting in his larger one.
Hands held up, she focused on her thumb as it traced the border of the plates on the back of his wrist. "That night after Therum, when Garrus fell asleep babysitting me, you asked me what pulling the seduction ploy on Harkin cost me. I said it didn't cost me anything, that I decided what I allowed to cheapen me, and the pantomime with Harkin cost me nothing." She squeezed his hand. "And it didn't. None of them did, because I didn't have any me to lose."
Nihlus squeezed her hand, then let go and sat up, moving the pillow over next to her. "You know I was just jealous? I'd loved you for so long, and then there you were, pissing me off on the tail of Saren. I lashed out." Lying on his side, he draped himself over the pillow, propped up on his elbow.
Eyes still focused on the stars, Shepard took his hand again. "I know, but you were right. I was giving myself away, not to Harkin or the other marks, just in general. I was a blank slate, you know?" She drew his talons to her lips, kissing each one. "I was the brutalized drug addict, orphan, barely survived Mindoir, took to the streets, saved by Anderson and the Alliance. I became the hero of Elysium, then an N7, Commander Shepard … Captain Shepard."
She hugged his hand against the bare skin of her chest. "It was all a pantomime until you and Garrus, and the Normandy. I worked." Glancing at him, she smiled. "I worked and when one job was finished, I started another. There was only Commander Shepard, no Jane … no haksaya kubenar, no Kahri. All of them came into being when you came aboard the Normandy. That's what I was afraid of, cikabeknai … that if I allowed that wildfire to burn all that away, there'd be no one left."
"Close your eyes," he whispered, leaning over her, those emeralds against the starfield reflecting her image, the beauty she'd seen in the mirror. "Close your eyes." Chuckling, he nuzzled the end of her nose. "Trust me?"
She closed her eyes, her heart racing, but not from nerves. The elcor gymnasts put away their mats and pommel horses, settling to watch. "With everything I am, Nihlus. With our entire future."
His keel pressed into her side, the pressure painful where the old wounds sliced through her flesh, but she pushed into it, holding their bodies tighter together. And then his breath puffed against her face, sweet … so sweet with the scent of the soda he drank with his dinner.
"I will never be the first to ask you this question, never be the first to swear you my oaths of bonding, never the first to swear my soul to yours, but I was the first to love you, all those cycles." He nuzzled her lips, lifting just far enough to break the kiss she tried to form. "I can't stop this war, but I would if I had the power. I'd spare you those you've lost and those you will lose, Jane."
She felt him pull away a little, leaving her side cold, barren feeling, her arm numb without his heartbeat thumping against her bicep. "Nihlus?" Reaching up without opening her eyes, she traced the contours of his face, her fingers trembling … still so unused to emotion … to the intensity of everything he and Garrus made her feel.
"All I can swear is to do my best to honour our bond, so …." He cleared his throat. "You lie, in faith; for you are call'd plain Jane, and bonny Janey and sometimes Shepard the curst; but Jane, the prettiest Jane in all the galaxy. Jane of Normandy or Ypres or Spectre, my super-dainty Jane. For dainties are all Janes, and therefore, Jane, take this of me, Jane of my consolation; hearing thy courage praised in every colony, thy virtues spoke of, and thy beauty sounded. yet not so deeply as to thee belongs, myself am moved to woo thee for my wife." (1)
Shepard opened her eyes as he sucked a deep breath, winded by the relentless punctuation of Shakespeare. "Are you asking me to marry you, Nihlus Kryik?" The elcor got up off the floor of her belly, but instead of gymnastics or ballet, they began to tango.
"Are you saying you will?" As he asked, the entire galaxy froze for an instant, even the air refusing to move until she replied.
"Of course I will." The words rushed out on the spring breeze of her exhaled breath. She nodded, grinning up into his eyes. "That was quite the transposition of the bard, cikabeknai."
He kissed her, mouth joyous and light as it moved over hers before he drew back, just far enough to whisper. "Well, you're my difficult woman, after all."
Taken and transposed from The Taming of the Shrew, William Shakespeare. Published in 1623 in First Folio.
A-N: So, here I am at last with a chapter of FI again, a nice quiet moment between storms. I've decided on advice to focus on this story for awhile, a month or so. So yeah, that's the plan. I'll still write the other stories if I get a yen or a scene pops in, but let's face it, this story is where I've expended the blood and sweat over the years. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. I had great fun giving these guys their moments. *hugs and Cadbury Mini Eggs to all*