Part 1, Chapter 11, Soldier:
This is getting out of hand. Shepard had never really given much thought to what sort of wedding she wanted. It just didn't occur to her that she'd ever settle down, ever live long enough to settle down. Duty was all she'd known, haunted by the specter of a sudden violent death at the hands of some hostile species or a random accident. The hairs on Shepard's neck stood on end at the thought of actually being dead, past tense!
Now, though, she was faced with the very real possibility of living out her remaining years in peace, with someone she loved more than she knew possible, and a family. Shit, what now? A dark corner of her never really expected to defeat the Reapers, let alone do that and survive. She hadn't been this unsure since her first day of N7 training. Improvise! Adapt! Overcome! She needed something to do, anything to do. If only EDI wasn't so damn efficient.
Shepard, a type-A personality in the extreme, searched for something to occupy her time. Wedding planning was dialed-in. Liara and EDI had seen to that. Just this morning she'd nearly tripped over a Volus who, apparently, was at the estate to measure her intended for a custom gown. She'd already placed her official request to Alliance Command for early retirement. Approval had come in, it seemed, before she hit the send button. Within a month she'd be a civilian. Still, it was all coming on so fast. Two weeks!
The guest list was extensive, though, thankfully, the majority wouldn't be coming. It's almost like they knew they'd been invited as a formality but weren't really expected to show up. Thank goodness, she couldn't imagine what sort of hell Aria T'loak could have raised if she wanted to. Still, she'd received a lovely little note from the Pirate Queen, even a brief hello from her 'Patriarch'.
Shepard,
I recall I once told you that you looked stressed and should find a nice young man to keep you warm at night. Had I known, and there isn't much I don't know, I'd have steered you towards one of my dancers. Best of luck. Drop in anytime, Patriarch misses you dearly.
-Aria
Shepard couldn't decide which bothered her more; that Liara had invited those two, or that Aria sent a reply that sounded so damn normal. I suppose you can be ruthless and still write a nice letter.
Fuck it! Without realizing it she'd stripped down and redressed in athletic gear. Running usually cleared her head, and the estate bordered on a 10 kilometer footpath through the woods.