Liara gaped at Shepard in disbelief, as casually as that? She would simply disrobe and bathe before a prisoner? Liara swallowed, the idea was appealing; the thought of Shepard becoming as vulnerable as she had felt but a few short moments ago, or at least as vulnerable as it was possible for her to be. Liara wasn't sure it was a word that could be applied to Shepard in any circumstance, she had a feeling that the confidence that held her head high would cling to her regardless of circumstance. She envied her that.
Shepard stepped forward, already tugging at her shirt, "You may leave if you like. Provided you stand just outside and leave the door open. I need to keep an eye on you." She winked suggestively and Liara found herself blushing only slightly. She wasn't about to leave, not after having been subjected to Shepard's steady perusal of her form. It had required every shred of courage she had to stand there unashamed as Shepard looked on; she had fought hard to maintain that facade of indifference, cool dignity, as Shepard's eyes swept heatedly over her body.
"I will stay."
Shepard blinked in surprise; the shadow of a satisfied smile crossed her face before she spoke again, "That's a bold choice. Wagering I won't pull you in with me?"
Liara tilted her chin defiantly, "You would ruin my clothes."
"Hm. And consequently my sheets; if you are planning to use this as your opportunity to cut and run- don't. I will keep the key here, and if you run…" She glanced to the tub, lifting a brow.
Liara wrinkled her nose, "I am not a fool." The thought had crossed her mind, but it was early yet and she didn't think Shepard would hesitate to chase her down regardless of her attire, or lack thereof.
Shepard shrugged, "I only wanted to be sure you understood our terms."
"Perfectly." Liara bit off; could the woman not hurry and finish her bath? She thought she might be even more discomfited now than she had been whilst she bathed. Or was that a tendril of anticipation running up her spine? She was a maiden, of an age to be taking lovers, it was only natural that she should be intrigued at the thought of seeing Shepard's body; goddess knew Shepard had certainly seen enough of her for one day.
Liara backed away to rest her back against the door, folding her arms in front of her to hide her tightening breasts; it was cold, but there was no reason she should have to explain that to her captor.
Shepard turned from her and peeled the shirt from her shoulders, Liara's breath caught at the graceful shift of muscles beneath flesh. Her movements pulled at shining scar tissue as she cast the shirt away; Liara studied the mark curiously, running from the top of her right hip down below the waist of her pants. She forced herself to breath once more, taking a moment to appreciate the definition of Shepard's shoulders. She would have given much to be able to press her hands to that skin, feel Shepard's flesh beneath her fingertips. She had the brief image of her nails curling into that hard muscle as Shepard took her mouth in a kiss.
It might have been, if it weren't for this. She drew her mind firmly away from such thoughts, trying to close her eyes modestly, but peering out beneath the lashes. Was she a child that she should be so shy? Shepard had clearly felt no shame as she ogled her captive, what harm was there in confronting this like the adult she was supposed to be then? She'd been to her share of seedy bars; this was not the first time she had seen another naked. It shouldn't even be the most erotic, given that there was nothing deliberately provocative in Shepard's movements.
Of course- she had never seen a human's bared body before; that was surely a part of it. She was so very similar, and yet so very alien. Liara muffled a squeak as Shepard slipped from her trousers, stepping out of them and bending to lay them neatly at the side of the tub. She was soft and firm all over, Liara swallowed a little louder than she had intended.
That scar ran down her hip to curl inward, turning jagged near its end, and there another parallel scar joined it, almost like fang marks. There was some marking on her outer thigh, something red. A tattoo? Of what?
Liara's arms dropped unconsciously from her chest to clench in the fabric at her sides as she looked on. She had never thought something so mundane could be so alluring. She wished she had the courage to thoroughly disconcert her captor, sneak behind her and press a kiss to that place where neck met spine, breasts pushed against her back as her hands wandered to Shepard's waist, tracing that scar and the mysterious mark, sweeping back up to cup her breasts in gentle hands.
It would be the pinnacle of ill-considered decisions. She really would find herself pulled into that tub and ravished. Shepard wouldn't be one to allow her foe the chance of sneaking up behind her; even if she could, her effort would be better spent in an attack, not a seduction.
Shepard stepped into the tub and Liara found it increasingly difficult to keep her breathing even at the brief glimpse between Shepard's legs. She hadn't known that humans would have hair there, interesting- would it be sensitive to touch? It didn't matter now, she wouldn't dare try to seduce Shepard as a means of escape; there was no doubt in her mind Shepard was more than willing to be seduced, but she also knew the woman would turn the situation to her advantage at the first opportunity. Doubtless she had plenty of experience; the kindest word for Liara would be lacking, and it would be foolish to engage the enemy on her own turf.
Liara started when she realized Shepard's gaze was fixed on her, one hand dangling out of the tub over her clothes, that key dangled from her hand tauntingly. Seeing Liara's eyes focus on her, Shepard pulled it into the tub, lips quirking in the beginning of a victorious smile.
Liara tried to smile back, projecting a confidence she didn't really feel. She raised her brows, feeling her lips freeze into the unnatural position. Shepard's smile vanished as though it had never been, but Liara didn't have much time to think on it. The next moment Shepard had abruptly submerged herself; when she rose again the water dripped from her water-darkened hair and sharp features, running down her elegant cheekbones and over her throat.
How very distracting. Liara coughed gently, turning her head away to prevent herself from staring. She could hear the splash of water and was tempted to sneak another peak. It was a little intoxicating, to have the illusion of power placed back into her hands. The illusion would be all the more convincing if she could will away her restrains and don her familiar clothing, but this would do for now. Tomorrow she would try convincing Shepard to permit her a few more freedoms, persuade her to arrange for a more fitting change of clothes or perhaps scrounge up the boldness to venture downstairs once more, on that walk Shepard had promised.
The more she understood Shepard's lifestyle, the easier it would be to engage her sympathy; assuming she had any to give that had not been extinguished by life on Earth's streets. Liara very much feared that. What if Shepard was every bit as selfish as she seemed, unwilling to compromise? No. She had allowed her the scanty covering these sheets afforded, had provided her with some meager form of entertainment and allowed her a bath… even if she had insisted on looking on.
Would she sleep in the same bed again tonight, would she insist on the restraints or was there a possibility of negotiation even now? Everyone had a price, she knew; she was only worried that she wouldn't be able to meet Shepard's demands.
Those satisfied gasps were becoming increasingly vexing. Liara turned back to Shepard, eyes darkening with annoyance, and paused.
She was running soap-slicked fingers through her hair, massaging it into her scalp and seemed to be enjoying the task more than was strictly necessary. Liara looked on in mute fascination, was their hair sensitive like her crest? Nothing in her research had indicated as much, but Shepard was definitely enjoying her task, sinking further into the water to wet her hair once again.
If that was the case then how would she manage washing down there? Liara blushed wildly at the thought, she had no right to this; almost she wished she had stepped out- almost. Mostly she was eager to see how Shepard would accomplish such an obviously pleasurable task.
There was something oddly… empowering about watching Shepard's pleasure and yet remaining apart; it sent tremors through her every time Shepard's lashes fluttered as she emerged from the water. She deliberated that for a moment, Shepard wouldn't hesitate to ask an impertinent question if it pleased her; there was no reason for her to abstain. She would show Shepard she was not the timid scholar she had first assumed.
"Is human hair sensitive?"
Shepard was visibly taken aback, she froze in her task, one eye peeking open to pin Liara in place.
"What did you say?"
Liara shivered imperceptibly, nearly regretting the impulse to use her voice. She wouldn't back down now; she wouldn't be labeled a coward.
"I said, is your hair sensitive?"
"What, you mean like am I getting off on washing my hair?" She laughed raucously, throwing her head back so violently water splashed over the edge of the tub. Liara stiffened indignantly; it hadn't seemed such a silly question as that. The phrase was unfamiliar to her, but she could guess its meaning from Shepard's reaction, evidently the answer was no.
Shepard leaned over the edge of the tub and Liara couldn't help but glance at the swell of her breasts pressed against the side, there was a smattering of light freckles just visible there that caught her eye.
"Hair doesn't have nerves; it's not 'sensitive' in the way you would think of it. The scalp, on the other hand, can be very sensitive to stimuli."
Liara barely stifled a remark about big words and little people; she had to remember that she would be making requests of Shepard tonight as well as presumably in the days to come. It was infuriating.
"It's a valid question, I suppose. I've heard that asari can be quite… sensitive in that area."
She could hear the question beneath the words but chose to ignore it. Shepard knew too much about her anyway as far as she was concerned.
"Are you nearly finished? I am weary."
"It's hardly nine, and you slept a good bit of the day away."
"Yes, well. It turns out that constant uncertainty about one's fate and having to bicker with one's captor for the right to even basic considerations is quite tiring. We can't all keep a criminal's hours either." That wasn't strictly true; in the course of her work she had lost a fair bit of sleep, more than she cared to admit- but Shepard didn't need to know that.
Shepard seemed inordinately amused at her small display of temper; Liara gritted her teeth and planted her feet firmly. Somehow she had to resist the urge to march over to Shepard's tub and force her head beneath the surface. Liara couldn't stifle a dark chuckle at the thought and Shepard eyed her warily.
"I'll finish up and we can turn in." Before Liara could comment she had ducked back beneath the water, splashing as she hurriedly scrubbed the suds from her hair. She surfaced again, panting slightly when she rose from the tub and stepped gracefully out.
Liara cursed inwardly; her gaze was once again inexorably drawn to the curve of Shepard's hip, tapering down to her smooth thighs. Liara swallowed thickly, this was too wrong.
"Could you pass me the towel?" Shepard gestured toward the cloth not far from Liara's hand, drawing her arm back to cover her breasts, other arm hooked around her taut stomach. It sounded like it wasn't the first time she had asked.
Liara hurriedly tossed her the towel, trying to appear as nonchalant as her captor, pretending the sight had no effect on her whatsoever.
Shepard raised her arms to ruffle her hair dry and Liara felt her cheeks warming once more as it brought her breasts into prominence, peaked and beading with goose bumps from the cold. Liara's fingertips twitched spasmodically, responding to her decidedly inappropriate thoughts.
Shepard bent to run the cloth up her legs and Liara shuddered at the sight of the dip in her spine. Up and down her arms, over her torso and finally… Liara bit her lip as the cloth swept between her legs, she seemed to linger there longer than was strictly necessary, but she never glanced up at her audience, for which Liara was grateful. She couldn't seem to stop licking her lips and suddenly her lips seemed too swollen, her skin too hot.
With a glance in Liara's direction, Shepard picked the shirt from the floor, breasts swaying gently in a way that Liara shouldn't have found so eye-catching. Not bothering with a bra, she simply slipped her arms through the sleeves and dropped the key into her pocket, her glance turning into both warning and invitation.
The trousers were next, pulled up quickly over her legs, shirt stuffed into the waist carelessly, smoothing the fabric over her hips and thighs. Liara sighed softly, remembering the definition of Shepard's legs, so much stronger than her own in a lithe and lean sort of way. She wondered what it would feel like to tussle playfully with Shepard, legs tangling as they kicked and shifted to contend for better position. She snorted in disbelief. Here she was daydreaming of a child's game when she should be making note of any potential weaknesses.
Of course, the shade of Liara's thoughts was making it into something much more than a child's game; she was convinced that children would not turn their sport to such lascivious intent as she was imagining.
Shepard glanced up and Liara straightened. "Let's go to bed, shall we?" The words had never seemed so threatening, or so alluring.
Liara nodded firmly, hoping her thoughts were not writ clearly on her face, "After you."
Shepard swept by her, catching her arm to pull it through her own as she passed, Liara did not resist. An idea was forming, what if she were to slip the key from its pocket as she leaned in like so? Would Shepard notice its absence too soon? A thought for another day, when she felt better prepared; she needed to know that this was a logical thought and not the product of some latent hysteria. She would re-evaluate the idea in the morning.
Some little thought pulled at her conscious mind, whispering a wicked proposition that had Liara clamping her fingers a little too firmly in Shepard's flesh. What if she were to play Shepard at her own game? Tempt her, beguile her, insinuate herself into any aspect of her life she could reach until the line between captor and captive blurred. She could take what she wanted without guilt then, a taste of the forbidden so to speak. All in the name of escape, and easily discarded when she was gone.
She sighed deeply so that even Shepard looked at her questioningly. That might be practical, if she were more worldly and callous, if Shepard were less experienced, if she had an unlimited amount of time in which to work the plan. All that could not be accomplished in a matter of days, that would be a long game indeed and one which she had neither the time nor the inclination to play.
Liara met Shepard's eyes, scowling ferociously, willing her to mind her own business. Shepard opened her mouth, closed it and turned away.
It was a foolish, childish whimsy, but part of her still hoped that she would share her first bonding with someone she trusted, whom she loved and who loved her. That held her back more than any one of the dozens of other rational arguments she could have used to undermine her niggling thought.
Still, there was some small merit to the plan; it would be to her benefit to become as much a part of Shepard's life as she could while she was here, to infiltrate every corner of it and to make a habit of offering her views. It would be dangerous, exposing her weaknesses to her enemy, but in time and with careful preparation perhaps Shepard could be tricked into giving away more than she intended. Liara would use it against her, leverage against her release in the hopes that she might yet escape this without bloodshed.
She cast a cautious glance in Shepard's direction. Somehow that didn't seem likely.
!
!
Shepard couldn't help but be achingly aware of the asari walking at her side; the bath had proved far more intimate than she had been expecting. Feeling Liara's eyes on her skin had been oddly disconcerting, she'd felt a vague stirring of shame. There was no cause for it, she knew full well she had a fit body; she was not classically beautiful, but there was a predatory allure to her that more than a few had succumbed to.
She was no shy virgin to turn bashful at the thought of undressing before another; men, women, she had had her share of casual encounters. Still, thinking of Liara taking in the scars that crisscrossed her skin, the freckles that marked those areas too often exposed to sunlight, she felt a little more self-conscious than was normal. Liara's shallow breathing and stuttering breaths had done much to restore her confidence. Evidently this uncomfortable attraction worked both ways; she could use that, but that wasn't the only reason for her satisfaction she knew.
Shepard was looking forward to tonight; sleeping beside her in a bed that she knew would suddenly seem too small. She was anticipating another nearly sleepless night, but it would be worth it to watch the play of expressions on Liara's face as she dreamed- for a time. Eventually she would have to find some other way to cope with this unexpected dilemma. She was only mortal, and she needed her sleep desperately to keep up with the tasks of the days ahead.
Liara quickened her pace as they approached the entrance to her quarters, and Shepard lengthened her stride to keep up, guiding Liara through the door.
"Do you intend to cuff me to the headboard again?"
Straight down to business, no teasing banter or meaningless chatter tonight.
"Do you have a better idea? I'm not going to sleep with you unsecured in my bed."
She had a better idea. Wouldn't it just be the best of all worlds if Liara cast aside that flimsy covering and fell willingly into her arms? There would be little need for sleep then and by the time Shepard finished with her she would be too exhausted to struggle or escape, even if she could walk straight. And that wasn't at all a guarantee.
"Link me to you."
Shepard tilted her head, considering. The idea had merit, there was enough give in the cuffs to permit it, just. Not enough for her to slide out of the bed and make for the key to the wardrobe. It would take some getting used to, they would both have to compromise their positions a little in order to remain comfortable. It was a reasonable suggestion, and if it would put Liara at ease after the day's trials then it was probably best to acquiesce for now.
"That is acceptable."
Some of the tension drained from Liara's body and she made her steady way toward the bed, practically collapsing on top of it in her relief.
"You can't sleep in that, though."
The tension returned almost immediately, her voice raising an octave in a combination of anger and uncertainty, "What do you mean?" Her tones was sharp, but after how well she had handled everything else today Shepard could hardly begrudge her that outward display of anger.
"I'll find you a shirt, but we're going to need the sheet."
Shepard hurried over to the wardrobe, opening the doors and pulling a shirt from the selection. Liara caught it from the air, turning a suspicious eye on Shepard as she divested herself of the sheet and tried to slip into the material.
"You're going to have to release my bonds first."
Shepard approached her cautiously, undoing the biotic restraints as she watched her for any sign of attack. Liara's gaze was equally wary as she donned the shirt, straightening it over shoulders. To her credit, Shepard managed to keep her eyes above Liara's neck until she had settled the shirt over her form. A chivalrous impulse she was sure she would regret many times tonight.
Shepard tried valiantly to stifle her laughter; the shirt was definitely too tight about the bust, and a little too tight in the hips, but the arms swallowed Liara's small hands until only the tips were visible. Liara's laughter was genuine, if short, and Shepard felt a tingle of some unexpected emotion rush through her. It wasn't the tinkling, silvery laugh she would have expected of a lady; it was low and mellow, falling pleasantly on her ears.
Liara cut off suddenly, glaring at Shepard accusingly; presumably for the unpardonable sin of sharing her laughter. Shepard smiled cheekily, crawling into the bed and gesturing to the area beside her.
To her surprise, Liara did not drag her feet or try to stall; dragging the discarded sheets behind her she climbed once more into the bed, drawing the sheets around her as she turned her back on Shepard.
Shepard glanced down at her own clothing; it was loose enough to use tonight, and Liara would likely feel more at ease if she left it on. She smiled wryly, it was probably a good thing the asari didn't realize just how much power she could wield with a worried look or a heartfelt plea. It was probably a good thing that her pride was too great to allow either of those things; those hesitant words earlier today asking her to please keep Liara from her crew- that had made her feel like a monster. This, she supposed, was as it should be.
!
!
Liara hoped that her captor had perhaps forgotten entirely about the restraints; for a moment only. She sighed with disappointment as Shepard tapped her shoulder, rolling over and presenting a wrist. Shepard hesitated, gaze fixated on the tracery of veins and the curve of bone beneath. She wrinkled her nose in a gesture Liara was hard-pressed not to copy; how did she manage those cute expressions when she should so obviously be only intimidating?
Liara scowled unintentionally and Shepard's brows winged up her forehead; her indecision seemed to have vanished as she clamped the first cuff about Liara's wrist.
Liara could see the struggle in her eyes, should she keep her word and allow this or should she simply bind her captive? This would incapacitate Shepard as much as it did her; the difference being she was sure Shepard didn't need her biotics or weapons to wreak havoc. That body had undoubtedly been trained for combat. Liara's eyes flickered closed in relief as Shepard finally clamped the second cuff around her own wrist, curling closer to Liara to permit a little more give in the restraints.
Liara shut her eyes resolutely, forcing her breathing to grow steady. The room was unnaturally silent; Shepard's breathing grew even and shallow but a few moments later. Liara opened her eyes to examine the cuff, glancing nervously at Shepard; an escape would be out of the question tonight, but it would be good to familiarize herself with the technology.
It was uncomfortable, trying to sleep in the light; Shepard had dimmed it somewhat, but it still seemed unnaturally bright to her eyes ad every twitch drew her gaze back to Shepard's face.
She scanned the room carefully once more, searching for the place where Shepard had set her keys. She had set them down, right?
"Just go to sleep for tonight. You'll think more clearly tomorrow anyway."
Someone any less restrained than Liara might have shrieked. As it was she couldn't prevent herself from jerking on the restraints in her surprise. Shepard's eyes were open and regarding her almost respectfully.
Liara glared stonily back, "Good night." While the words were unfailingly correct, the undertone was far closer to suggesting that if she were lucky, it would be Shepard's last good night's rest. She clamped her eyes shut resolutely; drawing deep breaths until she felt her fatigue finally begin to overtake her. For some reason a passage from the Human Bible that she had stumbled across in her desperate search for knowledge prior to this voyage kept echoing in her drifting mind. She snorted softly, "And the evening and the morning were the first day."
She thought she heard Shepard murmuring a question distantly, but she had already lost her tenuous grip on consciousness.
!
!
It might have comforted Liara to know that not more than a few hours away, her mother was facing a similar dilemma; namely, trying in vain to fall asleep as she lay next to Aethyta in their suddenly too-small bed.
It didn't matter how far away she tried to move, Aethyta tended to sprawl across the bed, and every time she had just started to drift off it was inevitable that Aethyta would kick her or slap her, sometimes even brushing her hand along a bit of exposed skin when she encountered Benezia's warmth. It was hard to believe she had ever found these habits remotely endearing; now she felt only frustration.
And maybe, if she were brutally honest with herself, an inkling of amusement. Centuries would pass, empires would fall, and civilizations fall into decay, but Aethyta would never learn to stay on her side of the bed.
Surrendering at last to the inevitable, Benezia turned on her side to prop herself on an elbow; taking in the familiar lines of Aethyta's body as she lay on her back. It had been over a century since she had last seen her former lover so vulnerable; a half century since she had seen her at all outside of an occasional official encounter. If she couldn't sleep then she would take this time to acquaint herself with the changes these years had wrought.
Benezia moved closer, looking down into Aethyta's face curiously. When she was awake that jaw was as firm and strong as ever, now she appeared oddly docile; sleep made even the mightiest and most cantankerous of asari seem sweet. Aethyta's hand lashed out and Benezia hissed as it struck her shoulder, reaching out to take the flailing hand in a confining grip. Aethyta's fingers twitched and tightened, curling toward the source of the new warmth.
Benezia snorted softly, at times like this it was hard to credit Aethyta's reputation as a trouble-maker. She seemed so very… content; that was the word. She couldn't help a small stab of jealousy, had Aethyta taken many lovers since she had gone? Found comfort in the arms of some brazen maiden or one of her belligerent krogan companions? It was unreasonable to resent her lovers for the part they had played in Aethyta's life after she had gone, and she was above all a creature of reason, but she hated the thought of Aethyta sharing her bed like this.
Benezia herself had abstained from any deeper relationships this past century, trying valiantly to teach her daughter that an asari needed no token of affection, no lover to depend on in order to become great. Perhaps she had done herself and Liara a disservice; if she could go back and change anything at all it would be that.
It had seemed so rational at the time; there were treaties to negotiate and warring species to talk down. She had thought it would be best to distance herself from one who so clearly favored war, Their arguments had grown in both frequency and passion that last year, at times she had caught herself wondering how they had managed to hold together for as long as they had. She remembered in that final fight, when she had lost her temper enough to scream that she would be better off on her own without having to worry about picking up after her mate as well as her own people.
That blow had sent Aethyta physically reeling; she could still remember that tragic and furious look on her face as she clutched at the edge of the desk. Her voice gone eerily calm, Aethyta assured her there would be no further need for her to concern herself with her conduct.
Two days without a word, two days of sleepless tossing as she waited for Aethyta to come back and yell at her again. Tell her to mind her own damn business and to take back those words she had hurled in Aethyta's teeth. When Aethyta finally crept through the door that second night, Benezia had been waiting on their bed in that nightgown that just barely covered her- the one that Aethyta never could resist stripping from her. They had made love with an almost desperate intensity, like each knew it would be their last time.
Nearly mindless with remorse and the pleasure that Aethyta was determined to coax from her she had gone deeper than ever before in their meld. Determined to show Aethyta how much she was loved regardless of her stubborn ways; she couldn't resist the instinct that urged her to take some part of her lover for herself.
It hadn't been long after that she had realized that a daughter would come of that union. They were still stepping quietly around each other; words said in anger were not soon forgotten this time. She had found Aethyta's deepest fear, that she would somehow be inadequate; worth less than the damage she had the potential to cause.
At the time she had thought it her only option; she had left in broad daylight as Aethyta appeared before a council of matriarchs to propose her newest idea for the advancement of the Asari. She had always had that right; they were far behind the times.
Lacking the courage to go herself, she had shamefully sent an acolyte in her place to inform Aethyta of her departure; all the way to her ship she kept turning at the sound of footsteps, half-hoping half-dreading that it would be Aethyta asking her to stay. She had known it wouldn't be.
For several days after her new appointment she had thought that her lover might yet come for her, even as she had prayed she wouldn't. If Aethyta had asked it of her she might have been foolish enough to agree; they both would have ended up as exiles. Of no use to anyone save each other, and maybe that would have been the wiser course, but she had made peace with her decision as soon as she had made it. She didn't regret her decisions, never that; only wondered what might have been if she had chosen another course.
One hand reached out to tentatively brush against the curve of Aethyta's cheek; she had always believed in seizing opportunities when they presented themselves to her. A moment's hesitation could cost her dearly. She curled into Aethyta's side quickly before she had time to think too much on it. She had been too long without this form of comfort, and she had never craved it as desperately as now. She hoped some of Aethyta's blind confidence might transfer to her by association; it was heartening to know that they would both be focused entirely on the goal of saving their only daughter, but she knew this had the potential to become yet another point of contention and bitterness between them.
She would just have to see to it that they both kept their thoughts on the objective. Aethyta pressed her face into Benezia's neck, soft breaths puffing against sensitive skin; this might prove to be a greater challenge than she had anticipated.