Liara
Silence. It could be sweet. Could be soothing. Could even be healing. Inside Tazzik's ship, it was none of those things. Silence had a life of its own, becoming my companion, my reminder, my own personal ghost.
The communications were off, not that anyone would contact this ship. Miranda informed me that Cerberus operatives had thoroughly scanned the vessel, removing anything that might have been an extraneous comm-system or a tracking device installed by the Broker. I should be able to get to Illium safely. So they said. They also said they could bring Shepard back.
Nothing can, though. My hands curled and uncurled into fists of impotent bitterness. Neither grief nor rage can bring her back, yet those are all I have. Those are what she left me. Silence. She left me silence. I gave her my heart, I gave her my voice, and all that she gave me is this.
I thought of speaking aloud to the void, but to break the oppressive quiet with my own voice would do nothing but draw the madness hovering in the back of my mind ever closer. Feron had kept it at bay. Searching for Shepard had kept it at bay. But both of them were gone now. If Feron lived...the Broker surely had him, and I could not even begin to know where to look. I had nothing but the menacing whispers growing ever nearer my thoughts, slipping through the cracks in my conscious mind.
Not that I have the strength to stop them, I thought as I looked at the galaxy map before me.
Illium was two solar days away, a planet at the very edge of Council space. Though it was an asari planet, the matriarchy did little to meddle in its affairs. A great deal could be gained from ignoring established law, and as long as the matriarchs presented a face of honesty and possessed plausible deniability…why forcefully intervene in the success of undoubtedly illicit ventures if it profited them?
I will be safe there, I reasoned, attempting to draw some cold comfort from this slow death called living. At least from arrest and prosecution. I will not be safe from myself.
I eyed the slim, silver box that Miranda had given me. I could feel the withdrawal she had spoken of. Pain gnawed behind my eyes and my fingers twitched of their own volition with no conscious control. Every now and again my heartbeat would race and sweat would break out on my forehead, but after that I would feel cold and begin to shake.
Smaller doses of the drug would ease the transition…but Miranda had said the drug was highly addictive. I did not wish to risk that. I had lost my one love. I had lost my family home. I had lost what little reputation I had. My mind and body were my last refuge and I would not risk that, no matter the relief from the pain of my fluttering heart and pounding head.
Water, I thought. I need to drink something. Eat something. It has been at least a half day since I have done either.
Locking those priorities in my mind, I rose from the chair, clinging to the back of it as a wave of dizziness washed over me. The floor of the ship tilted, whirled, then aligned properly once more. I shook my head, trying to clear it, before realizing my mistake. The pain behind my eyes intensified to such a degree that tears washed down my cheeks and my vision went white…
The door slides open and my lips part as I survey the room before me. There is a soft, hazy glow from the seven or so lit candles scattered through the captain's cabin on the Normandy. A sweet, dusky scent permeates the air. It is the smell of dirt and wood, with a hint of caramelized sugar and vanilla, two wonderful Earth flavors I have been introduced to aboard the Normandy.
"Shepard?" I call her name, wondering where she might be, as I cannot see her in the shadows.
Two strong hands grasp my shoulders and I flinch before a contented moan is pulled from my lips as those hands begin to knead the taut muscles in my shoulders. My head falls back and my lips part as Shepard's talented fingers work the knots out of my body, moving across my shoulder blades to my neck, sending fire racing along the sensitive nerves at the base of my crest.
I savor the warmth of her body near me, relaxing into her sure, confident touch. I moan as her lips replace her hands, kissing the back of my neck. Strong, bare, muscled arms wrap around my torso and she pulls me against her, fitting my form to her own as a hint of teeth nip at the base of my neck and her tongue slides along the underside of my crest. I groan as my entire body electrifies. Serena's hands move up, undoing the clasps of my tunic and reaching for the zipper.
"Is this all right?" she asks, kind, solicitous, still aware and considerate of my naïveté in these matters.
"Oh goddess yes." I breathe, biting my lip as her hands lower the zipper of my tunic in a slow, torturous movement that serves but to heighten my anticipation.
A hum of contentment in her low, powerful voice vibrates across my skin as her hands rove over the expanse of flesh she has bared. I bask in the heat of her hands as they tantalize and tease. Her nails rake up my sides, gentle, enough to set my abdominal muscles fluttering. Her hands grasp the edges of my tunic, pulling it off and I slide my arms from the sleeves, allowing my lover to unclothe me.
I am still unused to this, but I cannot deny that each and every time I grow more confident, more sure, and more desirous of her body and mine wrapped around each other, inside each other. I keep my hands at my sides, denying the maidenish nervousness that makes me wish to cover my breasts. I know I am safe here, that Serena will protect me, love me, and honor me in all ways.
Her fingers ghost over the strap of my bra and I nod before she can ask, knowing that she will inquire if this, too, is all right. With a deft movement, the clasps are undone and the article of clothing falls away, leaving my entire upper body bare. Serena rests her hands on my shoulders again and turns me to face her.
In the dim candlelight, the angry scar across her face is soft, her eyes are luminescent silver, her skin is pale and smooth and lovely. Her lips part as they always do when she gazes upon me, as if she is surprised each and every time by the revelation of my body.
She leans forward and presses her lips to mine. The kiss is soft, sweet, tender, a love song given motion, a single, flaring point of contact, an intimate dance. I reach for the hem of her shirt and her hands grasp my wrists as she breaks the kiss and meets my eyes.
"Not tonight, álainn anam." she whispers. "You don't need to do anything." her hand cups my cheek. "I want to make love to you." she says, and I shudder at the intimate longing in her voice. "I want to do everything for you." her eyes begin to burn, silver-fire passion and heat. "Let your body be the temple in which I worship."
The sincerity and beauty of her words strikes me and I wonder again how this woman ever came to profess love for me, to want me at her side, to share her deepest secrets and sorrows, her greatest triumphs and victories. I still cannot fathom the depth of her heart.
"Do as you wish." I accept, giving her what she desires, even if I do not feel worthy.
A shocked cry that turns to laughter flutters from my lips as she sweeps me up in her strong arms and carries me to the bed. With great care, she sets me down on the edge of the bed and kneels before me, smiling into my gaze as she reaches out and begins to unlace my boots. Her movements are methodical, reverent, as she unties the knots and removes the boots, setting them beside the nightstand with great care.
Her eyes search mine, once more asking for permission. I nod and stand up, allowing her hands to undo the buttons of my pants. She slides them, and my underwear, down my legs, taking her time, pressing kisses across my thighs as she undresses me. I lift each foot in turn and she removes my pants, folding them before setting them atop my boots. She stands and I take her in as her eyes devour me. I can see the hardened peaks of her nipples through the thin material of her white shirt. My mouth goes dry with want and desire, but I refrain from movement, allowing Serena the sum of her desires.
She reaches out and takes my hand. "Lie down with me." she entreats, and I sit back down on the bed, moving into the center of it, resting on the pillows. Serena joins me, wearing nothing but her white t-shirt and soft black pajama pants. Her feet are bare, her eyes are on mine…in the flashing silver I can see her soul…and it is naked, raw, and perfect.
Her hand reaches out, resting on the curve of my hip before moving and cupping my bottom, pulling me close against her lithe, lean frame. She kneads the soft flesh with her hand as her mouth lowers to my breasts. She takes a cobalt nipple into her mouth and I gasp as sensation rushes through me. My nerves spark and crackle, destroying my thoughts and leaving in their place a wordless, clawing need. My hand creeps along the base of Serena's neck, my fingers tangle in the soft tresses of her flaming hair as I pinion her against my breasts. The edges of her teeth close around my nipple and bite with just enough pressure to make me whimper. My hips pulse forward and she slips her knee between my legs, placing the hardness of her body against the softness of my own.
The edge of her kneecap presses into the ridge of my azure, the soft material she wears bringing a new sensation in a swarming ocean of them. Her strong hand is moving across my back and buttocks, sending shivers down my spine; her mouth is feasting at my breasts, tormenting one nipple, then the other. My inner walls clench as my hips continue surging against her knee and I feel slickness on my thighs, preparing me for the touch of her hand, the pleasant pressure of her skilled, dexterous fingers.
Her lips continue their feasting, my breasts, my neck, along my crest. Her tongue carves a pathway of heavenly shockwaves as it presses against and traces the line of my collarbone. Her teeth scrape down my abdomen as she nudges me onto my back. Her hands grip my hips as she lowers her head, her hair swinging, tickling my inner thighs as she presses her lips against my azure. I cry out and my hands clutch the covers, grasping fistfuls of the material as though holding on for dear life.
Serena's tongue traces the hardened ridge of engorged flesh above my entrance and I bite my lip, attempting to smother the scream of absolute bliss that fires through me, a nigh-unbearable conflagration that threatens to tear me apart. But the cries will not be held back, breaking free as her wicked tongue presses against my entrance and darts inside of me, the lithe muscle tasting and raking my inner walls with soft savagery.
"Goddess!" I shout as she works her tongue in and out of me, swirling, tormenting, beautiful and warming.
Her mouth leaves me. "You are." she whispers, pressing gentle kisses against my azure that cause me to writhe beneath her and whimper. "You are my goddess, Liara."
I can no longer control myself and I reach for her, grasping a fistful of her hair and pulling her towards me in a harsh movement, crying out again as she follows my leading but pushes two fingers inside of me as I draw her face to mine. Her fingers undulate inside me as her thumb rubs against my azure and my hips surge into her touch, drawing her deeper, closer…more.
"Serena," her eyes lock with mine, her naked soul in them, giving me all of her, "embrace eternity!"
... ... ...
Her mind is chaos and pain and every pleasant sensation flees as my heart threatens to beat out of my chest.
Almost…I hear her thoughts as though I am in her body, feeling her weariness, her panic, the edge of her endurance.
The heavy burden I share with her is thrust forward and infinite relief fills me. The ground shakes beneath my feet and I lose my balance, beginning to fall backward when a hand grasps my own. I hold tight, knowing that I am within Shepard, living this memory with her, sharing every experience, every feeling.
A wet crunch is more felt than heard and the hand holding mine loses its strength. I begin to fly backward, gasping for breath, thinking of nothing and everything, seeing flashes of Serena's life through the meld we share. They are battering my eyes, splitting my mind in two with a savage barrage of hope, pain, terror, love…mingled and smeared to one.
Something strikes my side and the pain is immediate. Warnings scream through the interface of the suit I am wearing. Flashing lights are blinding me and I clutch my helmet, trying to get them to stop, trying to breathe as air becomes shorter and shorter. Soon there is nothing to breathe and my lungs burn as my body feels too hot. There is one thought screaming through our shared mind…it is my name…
I love you, Liara…Shepard's last thought rips through my mind and I want to scream but I have no air, no life, no anything to cling to.
Another object strikes my back and I cannot feel the wound I know is there. I see droplets of my own blood floating in front of my eyes as everything goes dark…
... ... ...
"No!" I shriek, ripping out of the meld, looking for my kind, beautiful lover, wanting to ask her what hellscape nightmare it was that presented itself.
A body lies on top of mine. It has no warmth. It has no life. The sharp edges of charred, blackened skin assault me with vivid terror. I lie beneath it naked, my eyes too horrified to close as I see the gaping hole in her face, the bone of her jaw, the roots of her teeth. Black, congealed blood oozes from the multiple tears in her skin, slipping onto my flesh with a cold stickiness that makes bile rise in my throat. I reach up and attempt to push it off of me, wondering what has changed, where Serena has gone…until I no longer need to wonder.
This...is...her…my mind realizes and I scream, not in pleasure, but in horror, in terror, in anguish so immense that no species or language has any word to name it.
My strength is not enough to lift the grotesque mockery of what remains of Serena's body and I struggle to summon my biotics, but they will not work. I writhe beneath the burden, feeling the charred skin rip from her body, exposing muscle and bone as I struggle to escape. My mouth opens to cry for help and I taste death…
I woke up, struggling to breathe, pushing myself to my knees and crawling across the floor of the ship, scrambling for some place to hide from the hideous images I could not escape. My nose was filled with the scent of rot and decay and bile rose in my throat. I swallowed it down as pain pounded behind my eyelids, threatening to make the darkness and the dreams come again.
The silver box sat on the console, promising me awareness, promising me strength, and I could not resist it. I could not go back to where I had been…to the pleasure and the pain and the gut-wrenching horror. I could still feel the corpse on top of me, the parchment-like feel of the blackened skin, the cold hardness of exposed bone against my naked flesh. I could smell the scorched salt of blackened, sludgy blood.
I scrabbled to my feet and staggered to the console, ripping open the box and taking a syringe, filling it from one of the several vials. I did not measure an amount; I no longer cared. Anything so as not to black out once more, so as not to sleep again.
I used my biotics to construct a vice around my upper arm, bringing the veins to the surface. Before I could reconsider, not that I would, I plunged the needle into my skin and depressed the syringe, filling my system with the stimulant so that I would never, ever again venture where I had gone.
Strength and vigor poured through me and I collapsed against the console, releasing my biotics and staring at the needle stuck in my arms, breathing deep to compensate for the acceleration of my heart.
"I trusted you." I heard a voice, a voice that was not mine, that I had heard in the flesh only once before.
I looked to where it came from…the chair in front of the galaxy map. The chair swiveled and hazel eyes looked into mine. A waterfall of black hair swayed as the woman dressed in Alliance fatigues leaned forward, drawing closer to me. I could see the name emblazoned on her chest.
Rivera.
"I trusted you, and you failed."