by Joan Jett
He trailed a line of kisses down one side of my neck, nibbling slightly at the folds of skin under my aural cavity. The sensation sent shudders down my spine. I wrapped my arms around him and found myself clawing at his shoulders.
Cool air whispered at my flanks, my back. He had peeled me out of my jacket.
My skin evidently fascinated him as well, the soft scales that covered my body, small and almost invisible on my face, my chest and breasts, my belly, larger and more textured along my crest, my upper arms, my flanks and back, my legs. His hands wandered everywhere for a few moments, enjoying the varying textures and incidentally sending me into shivers of delight.
“So beautiful,” he murmured. “I’ve thought so since the first time I saw you.”
“Hmm. I was hardly at my best. Hanging in mid-air for three days straight . . .” I gasped as his hands found the erogenous zone, the azure, low on my back on either side of my spine.
“You cleaned up pretty well,” he said, amused.
“Shepard!”
I went in search of a proper revenge. He responded nicely to kisses and small bites along his collarbone. His breath suddenly caught in his throat as I discovered his nipples. For the life of me I couldn’t see what use such things could be on a male body, but they certainly seemed sensitive. My fingers explored downward, past the flat muscles of his belly, one hand slipping inside his trousers.
What I found there felt so bizarre that I had to see for myself. I knelt, unfastened his trousers, and slipped them off his hips to fall to the floor. A soft white undergarment followed. He stepped forward out of them.
I was confronted with the absurdity.
“Evolution has produced all manner of strange things,” I observed, “but this must be one of the strangest.”
He smiled down at me where I knelt on the floor. “I suppose you’re right.”
I touched him cautiously, felt warmth and soft skin. I could hear his breathing change.
“I’ve been doing some research,” I told him, my voice low and husky. “Do you know that the human intromittent organ is the largest among the known sentient species?”
He struggled to keep his face and voice under control. “Really?” he managed.
“Oh yes.” I continued to touch him, more assertively now. “Asari have no male gender, so we lack such a mechanism entirely. Male salarians have none either, as they use external fertilization. The turian organ is relatively small.”
“Liara . . .”
“Krogan, of course, have two, but each of theirs still averages smaller than the human analogue. What is it, Shepard?”
“Now is not the time for a comparative biology lecture!”
“Ah.” I smiled to myself. “You’re quite right.”
It was the one part of Shepard’s anatomy for which I never discovered much attraction. I loved the brightness of his eyes, the shifting expressions on his face, the mass and power of his body, the softness of his skin, the way light and shadow played across his form. Human male genitalia never seemed anything but ridiculous to me. Perhaps female humans can appreciate them better. On the other hand, I did appreciate the pleasure he experienced when I attended to them, so I never begrudged the effort.
I experimented carefully for a few moments to see which techniques pleased him, but he didn’t permit me to investigate for long. With an impatient growl, he bent down, lifted me up, and then swept me entirely off my feet. He carried me the three steps to his bed and laid me down there, joining me immediately.
If I had thought him aggressive before, I was wrong. He kissed me deeply and thoroughly before moving downward, trailing kisses and nibbles across my throat, my breasts, my belly. His hands roved, exploring, tickling, playing my nerves like a musical instrument. He had a light and very deft touch, but he wasn’t afraid to use his whole hand to wake the nerves across broad expanses of my skin.
Much to my surprise, I discovered that I was a sensualist.
Admittedly we asari have a reputation for sensualism. It is well earned. We love beautiful sights, harmonious music, the scent of blossoms or sea air, the taste of wine, the glorious fatigue that comes after physical exertion, the intimate touch of a lover.
On the other hand, I had always considered myself different, not at all typical for my people. I thought of myself as a scientist, cool and rational, not easily swayed by my mere senses.
Ten minutes in Shepard’s bed taught me otherwise. He rendered me as drunk with sensation as any abandoned maiden. I couldn’t get enough of his hands on me, the kisses that found ever more sensitive places, the warmth and scent of his body so close to mine. I struggled in delicious torment, helplessly nonverbal, encouraging him with low moans and the occasional sharp intake of breath. My back arched, the muscles of my belly began to quiver, and I opened my legs wide. I could feel my biotics surging involuntarily, little arcs and haloes of blue light appearing around my shoulders and upper arms.
He kissed my lower belly, and then ventured further.
“Shepard,” I whispered as the shocking intimacy struck home. Nerve endings that had never gotten much stimulation suddenly woke up and began humming.
My breath, my heartbeat raced, matching his. I could feel my mind reaching out. Not a quiet, controlled thing, like the two times we had joined our minds to share specific information. This was more like surf surging against the shore, battering at the sand and rocks of the beach, tearing down every barrier.
“Shepard,” I begged. “It’s time. I need . . . I need you.”
He shifted in the bed, raising himself above me on both arms to look down into my face. “You’re sure? I mean, are you sure we’ll fit?”
I glanced at him in exasperation. “Shepard. As large as you may be, I’m quite sure you are not as large as an infant’s head.”
He chuckled. “I suppose you’re right.”
I remembered Anar and Ru, the ancient humans whose lives I had shared through the Prothean archive. I could guess what might work best. I tilted my hips and placed my legs just so, arched my back slightly, and at the last moment I reached down between us to guide him into place.
It was a very odd sensation, that first time . . . but it immediately became obvious that we fit well enough. I stared up into his eyes, clasped his hips with my thighs, and placed my hands behind his shoulders. Just the look in his eyes struck me like lightning, set me ablaze with raw need. I moved my hips slightly, pressing against him, demanding that he proceed.
“I love you, Liara,” he murmured. Then he began to move above me, inside me, every muscle in his body surging and releasing, a powerful rhythm under my touch.
I went blind, my eyes black as night, my mind rushing across the tiny space between us.
“Embrace eternity,” I gasped.
I could feel what he felt, the softness and yielding of his lover’s body beneath his, the urgent passion to drive more and more deeply.
He could feel what I felt, the hardness and unquenchable energy of my lover’s body above mine, the terror and delight of being penetrated to the core.
Hormones, nerve impulses, muscle movements, they built up into a storm to overwhelm both of us. My biotics fired in a blaze of light, radiance skittering across the surface of our joined bodies.
We became one.
Shepard.
Liara.
So this is what it’s like to be you.
A moment. Timeless. An eternity.
I saw:
A magnificently ordered mind, intelligent and incisive, kept under iron rule and discipline. A sense of humor and delight, like sunlight gleaming on the leaves of a deep forest. A deep and abiding love for his fellow soldiers, for his friends. For me.
Deep down, yes, a volcanic anger. Rage at a universe that turned out indifferent at best to suffering. Fury at those who would profit from the suffering of others, who took pleasure in the suffering of others. Yet this anger remained under his command. It had never been entirely beyond his command. I saw all the horr
ors of his life: the disaster of Mindoir, the blighted years that followed, the terrible fight on Elysium, a hundred other battlefields . . . and the anger never ruled him, not entirely. He harnessed it, like the fire at the heart of a great engine.
I sensed words: Anyone can become angry – that is easy, but to be angry with the right person at the right time, and for the right purpose and in the right way – that is not within everyone’s power and that is not easy. He had read those words long ago. He had learned to live by them. His anger gave him his force of will, his determination to succeed, his undaunted courage.
Shepard. Look.
I held up a mirror so he could see what I had seen.
Not a barbarian. Not a savage. A soldier, dressed in a brilliant white surcoat over shining mail, carrying a sword whose blade shimmered with flame. A defender of the weak and innocent, battered and worn perhaps, haunted by what he had seen and done, but still standing on his own two feet. Someone who could be proud, not ashamed, of the man he had shaped himself to be.
I see, he thought in growing wonder. But what about you?
He held up a mirror in turn.
I saw:
Intelligence, to be sure, but also a deep curiosity, a driving need to understand. A talent for bringing order out of chaos, beauty out of ugliness, peace out of conflict. An innocence and purity of spirit that had so far gone untouched by the terrors of war.
A wide glacial lake under a pure blue sky, reflecting the world around, yet concealing hidden depths. A sacred place, quiet, capable of immense power. Yet the power remained untapped, at rest. When it stirred, it might overturn the universe.
Words once again: Trouble rather the tiger in his lair than the sage among his books. For to you kingdoms and their armies are things mighty and enduring, but to him they are but toys of the moment, to be overturned with the flick of a finger.
For all of Shepard’s might, he respected me. Even feared me, a little.
Another image: an asari dressed in formal robes and great dignity, seated upon a throne, holding a chalice in one hand. Light shone behind her, creating a halo but concealing her features in shadow. She could speak for the truth, revealing it for all to see, as one who has authority. A priestess or avatar of the Goddess, in her aspect as Wisdom. At first I thought her Benezia, or perhaps Sha’ira. But then the light shone brighter and I saw myself.
The inner light blinded me. I fell back into my body, full of the raw sensations that come just before the peak. The feedback between us surged, surged again with every motion of our bodies. I began to feel his climax, like a sudden flow of electricity. He began to feel mine, like the shaking of a deep earthquake reaching the surface. Then the feedback broke, just as designed, before either of us could suffer damage from it.
I felt his muscles lock tight, and shouted in triumph and delight.
Mine.
He is mine . . . and I am his.
Just as it should be.
Then it was over.
After a moment Shepard rolled away, taking his weight off my body and pressing himself close to my side instead. He embraced me closely with both arms and twined his legs with mine. I think I must have lain there, dazed, for several minutes.
Finally I took a deep breath, held it, and released it in a gusty sigh. “By the Goddess. That was . . . a remarkable experience.”
He chuckled, a deep rumble in his chest. “I guess the rumors are true.”
“What rumors?”
“There’s a saying in the Alliance Marines. Once you’ve had blue, nothing else will do.”
I made an exasperated snort and squirmed in his arms, so I could lie on my side and snuggle close to him. “I suspect it will be different, between the two of us.”
“How so?”
I kissed him gently. “Love makes all the difference.”
“Liara . . .” He trailed off, still trying to assimilate all that he had experienced. “It’s incredible. I can remember things now that never happened to me. Your memories. I know what it feels like to be asari.”
“Human, Prothean, now asari . . . you’re becoming a menagerie, Shepard.”
“What about you?”
“Much the same.” I wandered back through my mind, savoring the memories I had acquired from him in the union. “So strange . . . but we asari are designed for this. Besides, after Eletania being human was already somewhat familiar.”
“You’ve seen Mindoir,” he said bleakly.
I looked into his eyes, sky blue meeting crystal blue. “Yes. Mindoir, Elysium, Anhur, all of that. It doesn’t matter. Did you see . . .”
“Myself, as a knight in shining armor?” He snorted. “Yeah. I think your biases were showing a little.”
“Shepard, the mind never lies. Not in the deep joining.” I caressed his face. “You are not a barbarian. You are a good and great man, living in a universe that is often a horrible place. You fight because you must. You kill only when you must, no matter what the savage parts of your mind demand. There is no guilt in you. Nothing that cannot be forgiven, if you can only forgive yourself.”
He lay silent for a time, and then he said, “I’ll try.”
“Hmm. It’s the image you showed me that I find myself doubting. I’m not used to thinking of myself as a figure of power or authority.”
Shepard reached down, pulled the blanket up over both of us. “Like it or not, I think that’s what you’re becoming. All those years spent in your discipline, to become one of the galaxy’s experts in a field of study that is suddenly vitally important. All that you inherited from your mother, the influence you’ve acquired working with the Alliance. You’re going to be a mover and a shaker, Liara, possibly a lot sooner than you think.”
“It’s rather frightening.”
“You are more than capable.” He raised himself on one elbow to look down into my eyes. “Liara, you are one of the smartest and wisest people I have ever met. I find it amazing that you could love me.”
I smiled at him. “Fishing for compliments, Shepard?”
“I’ll take what I can get.”
“Try this, then. We are a very good match. I think there’s nothing in the galaxy that can stand against us, so long as we’re together. Not even Sovereign.”
“I hope you’re right,” he said soberly.
We turned down the lights and slept for a few hours, nestled together like spoons in the narrow bed.
Later we woke, desperate for one another again, and made love a second time. This time I took the dominant position, impaling myself on him and riding his hips. He caressed my body with his hands, and his eyes shone with wonder at the sight of me as we approached our peak. A halo of blue light crackled around me, the brightest light in the room, flaring as the joining happened again.
This time we received no grand revelations. We already knew each other. It was more like coming home.
Normandy flew among the stars, heading for Ilos.
Chapter 44 : The Empty World
Normandy felt very tense over the next few days. At least the crew showed very high morale, everyone confident we would do all that was possible to defeat Saren. Yet everyone also guessed the odds stood long against us. Bad enough if we had to face the geth fleet alone. If Sovereign appeared, our chances would be roughly those of a small insect in a nuclear furnace.
All of us worked very hard. We made contingency plans. We checked and double-checked every system on board, every piece of equipment, every weapon and piece of armor. We ran battle simulations. We drilled on the staging deck.
Then at the end of each day Shepard retired to his quarters, and I went to spend the night shift with him. We tried to be discreet, but in truth I don’t think we fooled anyone. The cramped spaces of a military starship are a terrible place to attempt a secret liaison. Yet somehow everyone chose to turn a blind eye, certainly due to their respect for Shepard, possibly because they had finally accepted me.
Each night we made love, gently or wildly as the mood struck u
s, learning how best to please each other. Our minds merged, and in those timeless moments we explored each other’s memories and thoughts. Afterward we always cuddled together on his narrow bed, lazily enjoying the intimate warmth, talking until sleep could no longer be delayed.
Finally I understood the asari precept: intimacy brings understanding. By the time we reached Ilos I knew Shepard so well, he seemed like an extension of my own self. He knew me to the same degree. Then came the final reflection, as each of us came to understand ourselves better by seeing through the other’s eyes.
Looking back on those few days, I think they constituted the final end of my childhood.
When we asari enter into our maiden years, our society encourages us to set out across the worlds, meeting people, exploring, loving, fighting, throwing ourselves into life. The goal is to experience all that life has to offer, so in our matron phase we can bring that wealth home and enrich our people.
Before Therum I never really did any of that. Oh, I traveled widely, and explored a number of worlds in the course of my scientific work. Yet I held myself aloof from the true life of the galaxy, traveling alone, never making many friends, never trying to understand how other beings lived and thought.
All that changed once I met Shepard. I saw many more strange places and living things. I found battle-tested companions of several species, and I fought at their side in a great conflict. I took my first lover, and learned him down to the marrow of his bones.
For the first time in my life, I could claim to be truly adult, truly asari. At last I understood . . . so much that my mother had tried to teach me.
I don’t think I had as profound an effect on Shepard as he had on me. Humans develop more quickly, and they do it without the benefit of telepathy to grant insight. Shepard may have been only twenty-eight when I first met him – an age when an asari would not yet have reached her full growth – but he had already attained mature adulthood. At most, I may have helped him process a few deep-seated anxieties.
