Epilogue:

Liara T'soni looked longingly into her beloved's eyes. They gazed back with the same fiery intensity they had when Victoria still lived, nearly three centuries ago. Liara sighed and sank into her high-backed chair. The virtual photo album switched images and projected a new hologram above her large mirror-polished obsidian desk.

She smiled at the next photograph. Shepard lay on her back in their home on Thessia. She held their first-born daughter, then roughly one year old, above her with outstretched arms and beamed at her. Liara had never seen Shepard so happy as those early days. Victoria had taken to being a new parent with few of the difficulties Liara experienced. Perhaps the life she had lived had prepared her for the sleepless nights and the stress of the unknown. You were the quiet in the storm in those early years, Liara thought to herself, you were my rock.

Liara sighed again as the image went dark to be replaced by a candid from their wedding. They were dancing, something called a country waltz. The Asari, as a people, were renowned across the galaxy as creatures of poise and grace, yet Shepard had made her look like her feet were mired in mud. Two left feet, Liara remembered a human expression. Shepard carried herself with such confidence; perfect posture, a spotless uniform, head held high, her red hair in a tight bun, not a single strand out of place. The irony that such fluidity of motion and carriage came to her through endless hours of mortal combat was not lost on Liara. "Viking Victoria, Viking Vikki," Goddess how she hated that nickname, "Hero of the Blitz," a veritable ballerina on the battlefield. How adept she was at turning her martial prowess toward a beautiful end, a waltz with her beloved.

Oh my Goddess! Liara's voice caught in her throat. She stared at the latest holographic image, two long-dead faces from her past smiled back. They both wore winter clothing, the traditional type with something that looked like The North Face printed on the left breast. They both sported light climbing helmets and large mirrored sun goggles pushed up over their foreheads. Both of the women's scarves were pulled down to show radiant smiles, their perfect white teeth matched the snowfield behind them. The pale faced woman on the left with the penetrating green eyes was none other than 'The Savior of the Citadel' herself, Victoria Shepard. Beside her, an achingly beautiful cobalt blue Asari Maiden, Samara T'soni, her daughter. They stood arms around each other's shoulders, near the very spot where they both would die.

"Woolgathering, Councilor?"

Shaken from her reverie Liara deactivated the photo album playback. She looked at the Commando, "You know to knock." Liara was abashed. She should have heard the head of her protective detail enter the room. Vikki taught me better than that, she thought. Of course, that was a bit unfair. This was the anniversary of both her mate's death, and that of their first-born daughter. Over the centuries the Citadel's commemoration of the Reaper War had come to be celebrated on this day, though the Alliance still celebrated its separate VR Day. Even centuries' practice couldn't suppress the reaction to that photograph. Too bad it's one of the best pictures I have of them. They looked so happy. Liara sighed internally, centered herself, and spoke, "Is everything ready?"

"Yes Councilor. The usual preparations have been made."

Liara shot a sidelong glance to the Asari Maiden, "I thought I told you to call me Mother when we were alone." She smiled warmly. Hannah T'soni, she liked to think to herself, had her father's stubborn streak.

"Yes Mother." Hannah shifted slightly in her armor. "Nezzie will meet us at your apartment."

Liara's brow furrowed at the pet name Hannah had for her twin sister. "Her name is Benezia. If I wanted you to call her Nezzie, I would have called her that." Peace, Liara thought to herself. She was falling into her usual Remembrance Day pattern. She resolved anew to embrace the time we have together, even if her time with Victoria only existed now in memory.

Liara's Commando daughter nodded, and they were off. Hannah piloted the air car to her mother's apartment herself. Liara stole a glance at her daughter, she's so much like her, she thought. The digital-cammo armor clad Maiden concentrated intently on the task of piloting. Her pale face, left bare of tattoos despite the commando tradition of wearing elaborate decorative patterns, carried a cold intensity which reminded Liara of Shepard's game face. She projected a subdued menace well suited to her job as the head of Liara's protection detail.

Hannah was probably the most under-utilized Council Spectre in Citadel history, Liara's one imposition on her career. Thank the Goddess you didn't inherit your father's sense of pride, Liara thought to herself. Fortunately, Hannah took Liara's eccentricity in stride. It didn't bother her that her mother wouldn't allow her to take assignments beyond her protection detail. She probably wouldn't be on the Council more than another couple of centuries, after all. Impatience was another trait Hannah had not inherited from her mother's mate.

Liara sighed to herself as the air car set down outside her residence, if only you could have met Victoria. She stepped from the vehicle and observed her daughter scrutinizing their surroundings. She can't switch off. Just like you Shepard, Liara thought to herself. This is going to be one of the more emotional anniversaries, isn't it?

Then Liara thought of her first daughter, and how she had idolized her father. For a fleeting moment, as was her custom on Remembrance Day, Liara thought; perhaps it was for the best that Hannah and Benezia never met their father, and that their sister died while they were so young. Maybe that's why they're still alive. Then, as was also her custom, she hated herself for thinking that.

In a few moments they were both inside. The dwelling was spartan but inviting. The furniture was a comfortable blend of human and Asari styles in warm colors. The kitchen was small and efficient. The decorations were very simple; a small glass case containing Prothean artifacts from Ilos, a slightly larger glass case containing the N7 hard-suit helmet Shepard wore the day she died, the first time, and a small framed picture of her and her beloved. The latter sat beside Liara's bed along with an old broken pocket watch. No one ever saw the last two items.

While Hannah changed out of her armor, Liara looked out the window. The view wasn't quite as impressive as that from her Presidium office, but nearly so. She gazed out over one of the Citadel's great petals; it stretched out nearly to infinity. The inside surface was a riot of flashing lights and colors. Millions upon millions of people from dozens of worlds called the space station home, and it seemed as if every one of them had the lights on. Looking upward, towards the central axis of the Citadel, Liara could see the other petals and the Serpent Nebula beyond them.

Suddenly an image of the First Battle of the Citadel flashed to her mind. She pictured following Shepard in their head-long run from the Conduit to the Council chambers for the final showdown with Saren. She remembered her heart pounding, as it was pounding now. She remembered crying out loud as she watched a piece of Sovereign impact the Council Tower. She flinched ever so slightly. She remembered being buried alone in rubble, not knowing if she'd live, not knowing if Shepard was even still alive. She remembered she was more concerned with the latter than the former. She set her jaw. She remembered a flash of light and Captain Anderson standing above her. Then, finally, she remembered seeing Shepard appear atop a pile of rubble. She held her arm tightly to her side and grinned despite the shattered shoulder. Shepard climbed down from the rubble and stood to her right. They looked into each other's eyes and smiled.

Hannah T'soni, dressed in a casual Asari gown and impossibly pregnant, looked into her mother's eyes and smiled. Liara blinked once, she transitioned from her memory, was that what Shepard would have called a 'flashback', and returned herself to the present. Liara blinked again realizing that Hannah was actually standing to her left, wearing a simple human-style dress that was just conservative enough that she could have concealed any number of battle implements, she never switches off. Hannah's only jewelry was an old golden gorget. The gorget had brought a flood of emotion when Hannah first started wearing it, but knowing that she did out of respect and love for her deceased sister had tempered the pain.

Liara smiled softly and turned to her other daughter, "You look radiant Benezia. I think motherhood suits you." Goddess, aren't you a bit young to be entering your Matron stage? Then Liara reminded herself she was less than half Benezia's age when she delivered Samara. I'm one of the youngest Matriarchs in recent memory, she thought.

Benezia smiled warmly, "Thank you Mother. You'll be a proud grandmother soon."

"Will you be raising her on Tuchanka? I've heard you've been spending quite a bit of time with Urdnot Wrex," Hannah baited her sister.

Liara arched the Asari analogue of an eyebrow and looked at her daughter. Benezia had never mentioned who her mate was, though that was not out of the norm for her people. Many Asari become pregnant by a partner with whom they have no intention of maintaining future contact. There was no social stigma whatsoever associated with single mothers among her race; it was more the rule than the exception. The idea, however, that her old friend Wrex might have fathered her first granddaughter brought a smile to Liara's face. I cannot believe he's still alive. He must be nearly two thousand years old. Victoria would probably have had some choice words about that, she thought.

Benezia was about to rise to her sister's bait and engage in one of their legendary squabbles, it's amazing how childlike a pair of three hundred year olds can behave, when Liara spoke, "Have you thought of a name?"

The twins closed their mouths and looked at their mother. Then they looked at each other. A silent agreement was reached, they nodded. "Yes Mother," she hesitated, "If it's ok."

Liara closed her eyes, raised her head slightly and inhaled. She smiled, opened her eyes, and looked at her daughters, "Of course it is." For a moment all of Liara's longing and sorrow for her departed mate and daughter fell away, she was happy, content. In her family she was complete, "It's a good name." For a moment, she was at peace.

And then, the moment was gone.

-End

Thank you for reading.

I hope you enjoyed this story.

I have several follow-on works that expand on Victoria Shepard and her family's story ('Recollections', 'Transitions: Last Thoughts', and 'Mass Effect: Longing'). I hope you enjoy those too (and there's more on the way)!