Work Text:
In my efforts to understand what was lost, my judgment became clouded, senses perfumed by the idea of a civilization that lived, until the moment of their destruction, at peace with the stars. It had not occurred to me in all my years of study and research that the cycle of devastation experienced by the Protheans could last so long, nor did I believe, for a moment, that the preserved surviving member of their race could be so affected by it. I could not fathom how wrong I would be.
excerpt from Journeys with a Prothean, Prologue, by Dr. Liara T’soni
It would be unbecoming of her to trash her quarters.
This is Liara’s first thought after leaving Javik and Shepard.
Her second thought — but it would feel so good — comes quickly after, before she catalogues the value of everything in the room and decides that tearing one of her pillows to shreds will just have to do. Oh, but Benezia would be so displeased, she thinks, watching the stuffing float slowly to the floor, looking down at the shreds of fabric in her hands. Liara has to smile. Add it to the list of things she’s done since her mother’s death that would certainly upset her. She can even hear her voice now.
Look at you. Gone and destroyed something that played no part in your frustrations. I hope you intend to replace it on your own time and credit.
“Certainly,” Liara murmurs, and drops the remains of the pillow. She’ll get a new set next time they dock at the Citadel, along with several bottles of wine. After what she’s seen, she should be allowed a few indulgences, shouldn’t she? Liara thinks about asking Garrus what he did, after Palaven, but sources tell her he shouldered the burden in a very turian way. For now, Liara is on her own.
As she often does when the world overwhelms, Liara turns to her work. There are reports to read, information packets to process, and agents to replace. The Reapers have done a number on her networks. When this war is over...if this war is over, she’ll have her work cut out for her. That is, if there’s really a need for people like her. The longer Liara spends as the Shadow Broker, the more often she wonders if there was ever a need in the first place. How dismal a galaxy they must live in, if people desire to sell and trade secrets, blackmail and maim one another with information. How —
A notification. Feron. Her heart skips a beat. She’s wondered about his whereabouts for days now, and it’s been weeks since he checked in. She presses the button for the message.
Liara, sorry it’s been hell over here. Just trying to maintain order is enough of a struggle. Tazzik continues to be a pain in my ass, but he’ll take orders from you no question. Don’t think he realizes anything’s changed. I appreciate the messages you sent, I’m sorry I couldn’t respond. Look, just be careful, okay? I know you’re with Shepard, I know she’s going to look after you, but she’s just one woman. And you spend too much time in a day worrying about everyone else. Take a second, Liara. Please. For me. Feron out.
It’s...good to hear his voice again. Reminds her of unspoken feelings, unwhispered thoughts. Touches on shuttles, checking for wounds, checking for blood. Her heart then had been in such turmoil. Nursing an affection for Shepard that by then felt ancient. Knowing it wasn’t reciprocated. Understanding she may never get what she wanted. Feron did not quite free her from unrequited love, but he did begin to unburden her, piece by piece.
Like everything else, it is too late for them. Liara can’t be sure Feron will survive the war. She can’t be sure she will either.
“Too many questions,” she mutters, and turns her attention to other tasks.
“Ma’am the pillow is part of a set. I can’t sell it to you without the sheets. Imagine if it didn’t match—”
“Fine.” Liara transfers the credits and arranges for the package to be sent to the Normandy.
“Thank you, ma’am. Have a pleasant day!”
“Mmhm.” Liara keeps the smile plastered before turning away. She desperately wishes she hadn’t worked so hard all her life to maintain control. How exhilarating it had been, for a moment, when she’d considered blasting Javik into the wall of the cargo bay, and nearly done so. The mental image of it carries her down to the Presidium. She orders a few crates of wine to be sent back to the ship, including one Garrus and Tali can enjoy, before ordering a tea and sitting down. The place is still smouldering, but it’s rather incredible that life can keep moving on. The Citadel has always been the stream that met the boulder.
For a moment, Liara does want to headbutt something. She glances over at the cafe. Aethyta has long since abandoned her post, but for moment Liara wishes she hadn’t. It was nice to have her around. Nicer still to talk to her. Liara knows her father is still alive, still pushing commandos around the galaxy, trying to give them the edge. Maybe when the war is over, they’ll spend some time together. Take a little father-daughter trip. See suns and moons and planets. Liara could use a vacation. She could —
“Ahem.”
By the goddess.
“Asar— Dr. T’soni.”
Liara looks up, and is pleased to see Javik looking very uncomfortable. “What do you want?”
“I...wondered if I might be allowed to join you.”
“No.”
“Ah.” Javik had been about to sit. He quickly backs away, nearly stumbling over a potted plant turned over on its side. “I see. Then I will simply enjoy this...view.” He looks out. Several cars are still smoking, and groups of C-Sec officers are picking through the rubble while a squad of Keepers cleans up shattered glass. He looks ridiculous, standing with his arms behind his back, watching the scene. Liara rolls her eyes.
“Fine.” She pushes the chair out with her boot. “You can sit.”
Javik nods, taking a seat, back ramrod straight. He points to her cup. “What is that?”
“It’s tea.”
“It smells disgusting.”
“It’s called desert blossom,” Liara says, inspecting the tag. “Apparently it’s from...Arizona.”
“Another ludicrously named star system,” he mutters.
Liara glances at her omni-tool. “It’s not a star system. It’s a location on Earth. Very dry. Extremely warm. The tea is made from cactus flowers and several other aromatics.” She takes a very loud sip. “Satisfied?”
Javik turns away, watching a keeper move closer to them. “I detest these creatures.”
“Few actively enjoy them.”
“Why are they allowed to survive?”
“Necessity.” She glances at him. “The Protheans reprogrammed the keepers to prevent them from aiding the Reapers. Or were you not aware?”
“No,” he says, waving a hand. “What the scientists did was of little use to me. Most of it turned out to be a waste of time.”
“Shocking. You find science as useless as manners.”
“I do not find either subject useless. It is simply—” He frowns, narrowing his eyes. “I am not ill-mannered.”
“Really? Was I supposed to be flattered, then?”
Javik slams a hand onto the table. “I am trying to make peace with you, asari! Per the Commander’s ludicrous request, I am attempting this conversation. And still! You thwart me at every turn.” He stands up, knocking the chair backwards. “I will be informing her of the futility of this exercise immediately.”
Liara sips her tea. “Oh, please do.”
Javik growls. “I think I preferred you when you were angry, doctor.” He storms out of the cafe, knocking over a C-Sec officer engrossed in her omni-tool.
Liara presses her lips together and tries not to smile.
“Would it have killed you to listen to him?”
Liara doesn’t bother to look up from her console. She’s feeling very bold today, and refusing to make eye contact with the Commander is rather thrilling. She never really went through a rebellious phase as a young girl.
“It may have,” she says. “Besides, it was hardly sincere.”
“I suppose you’d know that, in the whole forty-five seconds you spoke.”
Liara glances at her. “It was well over a minute, Commander. I think that was very generous of me.”
Shepard sighs, running a hand through her hair. Goddess, she looks so tired. Maybe she needs one of Liara’s new spare pillows. And a very long nap.
“I’m trying, Liara. And I need you to help me.”
“I don’t see why I should. I am perfectly capable of staying on my part of the ship, so long as he stays on his.”
Shepard puts a hand on her shoulder. “Liara, please. I know this isn’t what you wanted, but—”
Liara wrenches away from her. Barely manages to contain her biotics as the word burns into her brain.
“Wanted? You think I wanted anything? I hoped, Shepard. And now those hopes are in ashes, scattered in the rubble of my homeworld!” In spite of herself, fists glow blue. “When has anything about this ever been about what I wanted?”
“Liara—”
“Leave! Just...just go!” She slams her hands on the panel in front of her, teeth gritted, fighting back a scream. “Please,” she manages. “Just...leave me alone.”
The door opens. Then slides shut. How painful it sounds. How final.
“Glyph…”
“Locking, ma’am.”
“Thank you.” She goes to her bed and sits on the edge of it. Perhaps this time she could tear apart the sheets. She did just buy a new set. Or maybe the other pillow, perhaps it would help again.
No. She’s a disaster, right now. And disastrous emotions require disastrous solutions. There’s only one other person on this ship she wants to talk to who could begin to understand how she feels right now. Liara grabs two bottles of wine and makes her way to the battery.
Garrus looks startled when the door opens. He’s sitting at his workbench, fiddling with the scope of his rifle.
“Uh, hi.” He looks her up and down before tapping the edge of his visor and turning off the music. “...You okay?”
“This one’s for you.” She points at the dextro label before taking the other one and twisting off the cap.
“Right.” Garrus picks it up and turns it over in his hand. “Wow. Great vintage. I think. I don’t actually know anything about wine.”
“That bottle was made in a vineyard on a turian moon. The soil is richly acidic, and they grow grapes sourced from the Napa Valley on Earth, modified for dextro-amino consumption. It was part of a greater peacetime effort. On Earth, they discovered the vrell plants, native to Palaven, could grow in parts of South America. They make something akin to Earth’s tequila with it, once it’s processed to make it levo-friendly.” She takes a swig. “It’s quite strong, from what I understand.”
Garrus sets the bottle on the table. “Got it. Well, uh, thanks. That’s very generous of you. I’m sure Tali will appreciate a glass.”
“I already sent her some.”
“You think of everything, Liara.”
She leans against the console. “No,” she says. “I really don’t.”
Garrus sighs, turning around completely in his chair, leaning against the workbench to look at her. “How’re you holding up?”
She laughs. “Poorly.”
“Yeah. I figured.”
“I wasn’t...I didn’t think—” Liara lets her head fall back. She looks up at the ceiling of the battery, watching the lights from Garrus’s map blink against the metal plates. It could put her to sleep, she thinks, if she had any inclination to do something like that. “I was very certain we could escape this, in some...small part of my mind. I think I knew we wouldn’t, but I held on to...to—”
“Hope,” Garrus mutters.
“Yes. Foolishly.”
He shakes his head. “You’re not a fool for hoping, Liara. Hell, I was on Menae when the Reapers landed, and there was still a part of me that thought we could beat them back.”
“Which part?”
He laughs. “The part that sings the imperial anthem every time I walk up a flight of stairs.” He finally takes the bottle and opens it, pouring some into a mug and taking a sip. “Damn. That goes down smooth.”
“It was very expensive,” Liara murmurs, looking at the bottle in her hand.
“I don’t doubt it.” Garrus tosses the rest back. “I told myself I’d stay sober at least until the hammer fell. Guess that’s shot.”
“You don’t have to drink it.”
“Nah,” Garrus says, and pours himself another glass. “Homeworld’s in flames. Let’s get tanked, T’soni.”
It’s been a long time since Liara got that drunk. She spends the day after bent over one of the toilets in the women’s restroom, and runs into Garrus fleeing to the men’s. He sends her a message later — please kill me — and Liara responds with — only if you space me first.
But — it does help, in a way. Liara sends the Commander an apology. Not because she wants to, really, but because Shepard is trying. And Liara has to give her credit for that. Making impossible peace treaties among the stars — and the crew. She finishes parsing some new data packages before tidying herself up and making her way to the Port Cargo bay with a bottle of wine.
Javik is cleaning one of his guns, listening to something coming over the radio. It...sounds like music. He looks up when the door opens, then goes back to his task.
“Is there something you need, asari?”
“I...no,” she admits. “I came to apologize.”
Javik pauses. “For what? You have caused me no pain.”
“For my behavior in the cafe. I was...you caught me at a bad time.”
He huffs. “It would appear I am incapable of catching you at a good time.”
Liara furrows her brow. “Well, I am clearly feeling better now.”
“Oh?” He sets the gun down and stands. “Your increased heart rate tells me you are nervous. The way your fist clenches tells me you still wish to fling me across the room. The wine tells me you are trying to make peace, but your face still continues to look like the underside of my boot.” He takes the bottle from her. “I would not call this a good time.”
“I absolutely detest you,” she snaps. “The Commander—”
“Has noble pursuits. Unfortunately, peace between you and I is not one of them.”
Liara...Liara stomps. She actually stomps. “You’re not even giving me a chance.”
“Nonsense. I am affording you the same opportunity you gave me on the Citadel.”
“I—” Liara stops. She closes her eyes and takes...a very deep breath. “I am...sorry,” she says. “When we last spoke, I was tired and angry. I...goddess, who am I kidding? I’m still tired and angry.” She throws her hand up. “I was wrong! I was so completely wrong and now I look like a child. I look ignorant and...and foolish.” She turns away from him. She’s going to cry, and the last person she wants to see is him. “No one to blame but myself,” she murmurs. “It’s not like you had a choice in what you were...what you are.” Liara shakes her head. “Forget it. I won’t be a bother to you anymore. I’ll keep my distance, I—”
A hand touches her shoulder. She turns.
“No,” he says. “I would rather you continued to bother me.”
“I…”
“If it is what puts the fire in you, then do it. If coming here and shouting at me makes you angry enough to kill what has destroyed your home, then I want to see you here every day. I want you to scream until the rage seeps out of your bones.” Both hands on her shoulders now, he leans closer. “You are filled with fury, Liara T’soni. How long have you kept it at bay?”
“...Years,” she whispers.
“Why? Because it is not appropriate?” She nods. “Pathetic.” He pulls back. “Yes, we saw hope in your people, but how distressing that you have become so obsessed with decorum.”
“It’s...not all of us. My mother—”
“The indoctrinated one.” Liara nods. “She is the one who made you this way.”
“Not...made, necessarily. Benezia...she wanted me to live as an example. She was proud of me, I think. At least, it’s what I understood.” Liara turns from him, gently wringing her hands. “I always wanted her to be pleased with me. So I kept my head down. I stayed the course. She had so much responsibility, and if I could be good, then it meant she had done well in raising me. So...I was good.” She sits on a pile of crates, feeling very small. “She fostered my passions. Supported my goals. Eventually, though, I outgrew her. I wanted to explore, I wanted to live. She wanted me to be...part of her too much.”
Javik comes and sits on the floor in front of her. “The sins of mothers and fathers are often too subtle for us to comprehend. Most notably, because they are committed while trying to protect us.” Liara nods. “My father was a soldier. As was his father before him. If we were anything before, I do not know. He taught me to be angry. The Reapers were well on their way to destroying my cycle when I was born. This...was all I ever knew.”
“It was how he loved you.”
Javik makes a noise. “Perhaps. We did not express love to our children the way you do. At least, not that I saw.”
“I’m sorry.”
He huffs. “For what?”
“A parent’s love is...powerful. Even when it is applied the wrong way. It is quite the experience.”
“I would not know it. And if I did, I do not intend to express it.” He looks at her. “I will not live long enough to become a father. Nor could I, considering I am the last of my kind.” He stands and holds out his hand.
Liara looks up. Takes it.
“This was a good conversation, doctor. I would not be opposed to having one again.”
Liara laughs, her anxiety spilling between them. “Yes, well. I’ve been meaning to ask if you’d write a book with me,” she says. “Stupid idea, really.”
Javik shakes his head. “It is not a stupid idea. If you are serious, I will take it under consideration.”
“...Oh. Well...alright, then. I’ll make some notes, I suppose. Think of some...titles.”
“Very good.” He turns and goes back to his task, turning his music back on.
Liara raises a brow. “...Is that the soundtrack to Fleet and Flotilla?”
“Yes. The quarian suggested it.” He pauses. “I hadn’t realized the quarians had evolved functioning ears until she did. Having listened to this for several hours, I am still unsure.”
“Alright.” James sets the plate on the table in front of Javik. “Dig in.”
Javik scowls. “This smells disgusting.”
“Hey, hombre. You lost the bet. Deal’s a deal. Unless...you’re afraid of a few eggs?”
“Do not be ridiculous.”
Tali sits across from him, resting her chin in her hand. “What was this bet exactly?”
“James bet Javik he could get more husk kills when they went to extract the elcor,” Garrus says. “Javik lost.”
“On a technicality,” he mutters, poking at the yolk with a fork. “This also looks disgusting.”
“Technicality my ass.” James points with his spatula. “I got six more than you.”
“I believe the grenade is cheating. I did not use mine.”
Liara’s been watching from the end of the table. She leans forward. “Sounds to me like you’re being a little bit of a sore loser, Javik.”
“I am no such thing.”
She grins, pushing the salt and pepper closer. “Then eat. The eggs.”
By the time Shepard walks in, the entire mess is chanting eat eat eat at the top of their lungs as Javik quickly shoves everything on the plate into his mouth. He chews, and there’s a bit of yellow yolk dripping down his chin. Liara feels more than a little satisfied watching him suffer, but when it’s done he sets the plate and fork down with heavy hands.
“Let it be known that Javik is no coward. And these eggs—” He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. “Have not bested me.”
James leans in. “They were good eggs though. Right?”
Javik scowls. “They were acceptable.”
“I think that is a compliment,” Tali says.
James shrugs. “Hey, I’ll take it. Lola, you want some eggs?” He goes back to the stove and the crew disperses.
Javik looks appropriately put out, enough for Liara to lean in again and say, “That was fun to watch.”
“Despite our ability to put aside some differences, you still enjoy watching me suffer.”
“Sure. Makes up for your very insulting book title suggestions.”
“Prothean Superiority and Its Benefits is hardly insulting.”
“I meant the one where you called me a puffy eyed hanar egg.”
“Yes, well, you were asking insulting questions about my eyes.”
“Professional curiosity,” Liara says, walking back to her cabin. She’s quite satisfied by the grumbling this elicits.
Liara is busy when Shepard needs to go to Sanctuary. She passes along any information she has on it, but when the team returns, Liara isn’t prepared for what they tell her.
“I...I had no idea.”
“I’m not surprised,” Shepard says. “This is Cerberus.”
“Yes, but I...I should have known more.”
“Liara.” Shepard puts a hand on her shoulder. “I am not expecting you to have every answer. Alright? It was horrific down there. I’m glad you didn’t see it, and I’m glad you didn’t know.”
“Who was with you?”
“Tali and Javik. Tali’s taking everything pretty hard, I need to go check on her.”
Liara nods. “Right.” She stands awkwardly behind the flight deck before going back to her cabin.
She forces herself to look at the photos and vids taken from the facility. This...could have been prevented. Why didn’t she know? Of course she suspected Sanctuary was a front, but for this purpose...for turning people into…
“Ma’am. The prothean is approaching the cabin.”
“What?” Liara turns just as the door opens. Two of her screens are playing videos of the conversion tubes, transforming people in husks over and over again. When Javik sees it, he stops.
“...Why are you watching this?”
Liara quickly shuts down the screens. “I needed to know. Information is my speciality. Not realizing Sanctuary’s true purpose feels like a failure.”
Javik shakes his head. “No. Your cycle has still not borne witness to the greatest atrocities the Reapers are capable of.”
“They destroyed my home,” Liara snaps. “Palaven is still burning. I think we are quite aware of what they can do.”
Javik sighs. “Your anger, while admirable, forces you to misunderstand me once again.” He points at a chair. “May I sit?” Liara nods. He does, and moves closer. “When I was born, the Reapers had been harvesting our cycle for three hundred years. In such a span of time, there was ample opportunity to see the very worst. Indoctrination is horrific, yes. And you remember what I said, that they turned our own children against us. But many times their atrocities were nothing compared to what we were forced to inflict upon each other. Brothers betraying brothers, torturing them. My mother killed her own father to protect me. My mentor, he lured dozens away to be harvested, turned into those things. If I had not been delayed that day, I would have been among them. And my...my own men. On my own ship.” He closes his eyes. “I killed them. With my own hands, I slit their throats.”
“Goddess…”
“You still have loyal friends. The Commander still counts you all amongst her family. Perhaps...it is not so hopeless as some believe.” He looks at her. “I know you feel guilt. But even you are not able to pinpoint the worst of your cycle, because you still, in your heart, believe that people will do what is best for all.”
Liara laughs. “I’m not sure how much I believe that now.”
“Indeed, perhaps your faith is shaken. But I have seen you fight. I know your will to be much stronger than that.” He stands. “I must shed these thoughts. Please, excuse me doctor.”
“...Of course.”
Javik pauses as the door opens. “Also...I would like to apologize, Dr. T’soni.”
“For?”
“I thought you arrogant, when we first met. Now I realize how wrong I was. You are not. You only wish to be the best version of yourself you are capable of being, no matter the cost.” He looks at her. “In this way, I think we are more similar than I wanted to believe.” He nods. “Rest well.”
To: T’soni, Liara
From: Javik
Subj: how do you write on these ridiculous things this is absolutely ridiculous no stop writing down what i am say-
50,000 Years Too Late: A Prothean Tragedy
The Second Rise of the Prothean Empire
Descended From Greatness: Primitives and their Gods
how long is this book supposed to be i am not interested in spending another fifty thousand years doing something that is why will this device not stop writing down what i am saying tell it to stop
Walking Alongside Greatness: My Travels With a Prothean
Liara has spent hours pouring over the data she collected from the Temple of Athame. It pulls at her in the night when she cannot sleep, begging her back. On one hand, she knows it is just a distraction, just a way for her to stop remembering Thessia and stop hearing the screams of banshees. But there is a part of her that hopes it will keep her going after the war, because she must believe it will end.
There is a body of text on one of the tablets that is written in a way she can’t fully decipher. She suspects Javik will be up, as he often is, so she dresses herself and grabs a datapad. “Glyph, I’ll be back.”
“Certainly, ma’am.”
Standing in the elevator, Liara closes her eyes and appreciates the familiar hum of the ship. When she’d been aboard the first Normandy, it had been so strange, so...alien. Liara had lost sleep, sitting up many nights with Tali, reading and organizing her notes while Tali repaired some little machine or wrote code for her omni-tool. Now, the ship feels like home, and she can appreciate the silence when most of the crew has gone to sleep. Nightshift is always so still.
When the door opens, Javik is meditating, listening to music again. He turns as she steps inside, giving her a nod. “Doctor.”
“I’m sorry to bother you. I’ve just been looking over a few notes and photos from the temple and I had a few more questions...if you didn’t mind.”
“I do not.” Javik stands and turns down the music.
“That doesn’t sound like Fleet and Flotilla.”
“It is not. Traynor suggested it to me. She called it Sonata for Flute, Viola, and Harp, by Debussy.” He shrugs. “It is adequate.”
“It’s a beautiful piece. I’ve grown quite fond of some music from Earth, personally.”
“She mentioned humans made this. They really hold the instruments in their hands then?”
Liara nods. “...Most of us do.”
Javik shakes his head. “Bah. So much you do not understand. When we write our book, I will attempt to teach you, though it is doubtful you will be able to comprehend it at all.” He raises his hands. “Not because you are not clever enough, but because it will be difficult to explain without the proper tools. Perhaps the galaxy still hides the relics of my people.”
“I’m certain it does. But I didn’t know you were a musician.”
“I am not, but it was customary at a time for all Protheans to understand the art of our ancestors. I can access the memories of musicians who came before me, and attempt to teach you…” He looks a little sheepish. “Though I will readily admit that I was never particularly musically inclined.”
Liara nods. She leans against the reflecting pool. “I have no great talent for music myself. I’ve only learned a single piece of music.” She nudges him with her datapad. “Look at that, another thing we have in common.”
He looks...flustered. “Yes, very well, now ask me your question.”
Liara shakes her head and shows him the photo. “It’s this tablet. I’ve no idea what it says, and I can’t find any complete translations from those who’ve written on the temple at length. Even Matriarch Forsynia doesn’t speak on it.”
“She was a scholar of your past?”
“Yes. I met her once, as a young girl. She was well into her matriarch years, and died soon after. She was one of the last outspoken worshippers of the Athame Doctrine. When she died, much of the fervor seemed to die with her.” Javik turns the datapad this way and that, frowning. “Goddess, don’t tell me I’ve been reading it upside down?”
“No, you have not. It is merely a confusing passage because it is not what you think it is.” He holds it close, then nods. “It is a poem.”
“A...poem? Really? I’ve never encountered Prothean poetry before.” She grabs the datapad from and stares at it. “What does it say?”
Javik is silent. Liara glances at him.
“...It is a poem.”
“Well yes, you said that.” She looks back at the photo. “This is incredible, there are dozens of tablets I’ve come across I couldn’t quite translate. Is it because of the way it’s written?”
“Yes. Our poets were clever users of the language. Both in its meaning and physical representation. Certain pairings of letters could mean different things in different contexts. And the location of the writing could change things as well. I believe your people found these objects and ascribed a certain value to them, merely because of their origin.”
Liara nods. “That’s amazing. I can’t believe, after all this time, I still have so much to learn...especially from you.”
“Yes, well.” Javik clears his throat. “I am very glad we sorted this out. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”
Liara shakes her head. “You haven’t told me what it means.”
He looks...embarrassed. Liara only knows because she’s seen many emotions cross his face. This one is new.
“You do know,” she says. “Don’t you?” He nods. “Then read it to me.”
Javik looks around, as if someone may be watching. “I am...no great orator. I could not do it justice.”
“That’s alright, I just want to know what it says.” She holds out the datapad. “Javik…”
“It is a love poem,” he explains. “I’m not sure I should be the one who reads it.”
“Ah, yes, of course. I’ll go find another crewmate who speaks Prothean, then.” Liara shakes her head. “Forget it. I’ll figure it out on my own, since you’re too much of a coward to do it your—”
He yanks the datapad from her hand with a growl. “Fine,” he says, through gritted teeth. Liara smirks. She’s become quite adept at pushing his buttons. Javik clears his throat, and begins to read.
“By noble heaven’s gaze, I tremble before your healer’s hands. Fix me. My broken arms lie in wait and will do so until every sun burns out and reduces me to ash. And for you, I am ash. Will you lift me, the pieces of me, to your lips and drink?”
He looks at her. Liara swallows. She is...trembling. And he sees. Carefully, he steps forward, as she steps back. He continues.
“In the ways of old, allow me to touch you. To fall into the wide ocean of you, become your storm. Shaken by the gravity of you, I will reach out. Grasp me. Take me inside. Do not leave me in the dark, I should not perish without learning the taste of you.”
Liara takes a breath. Her back touches the wall. Javik lifts his arm over her head, caging her in.
“Release me. Ever yours. Let me be your flame. Warm you. Touch the edges of your stars and whisper your name in the heavy scent of your longing. I burn. I bleed in your honor. I lay waste to any who stand between us. I trade my name for a song, and will listen to you sing it, forevermore.”
Javik hands her the datapad.
Liara’s body is aflame. She looks up at him, feels his hand rest firmly on her hip.
“Liara…”
“I—”
The door slides open. Cold air rushes in.
“Look, Glyph told me you came to see Javik, and I know you guys don’t get along, but please could just stop—”
Liara looks over. Shepard is standing in the doorway, staring. It’s very rare that the Commander is silenced.
They must be an interesting sight.
“Uh—”
“Thank you, Javik.” Liara slips from his grasp. “That was...very helpful.”
Javik clears his throat. “I...yes. Of course.”
“Translation question,” Liara says quickly, looking at Shepard. “Tricky thing with dead languages. Or...once dead, I suppose. Anyway, have to run.” She looks between them. “Goodnight!” she says, and flees.
Shepard: soooooooo that was fun
Liara: please stop
Shepard: did he get buffer since he came on board
Liara: i have no idea
Shepard: i think he did, i think he’s been working out
Liara: i don’t concern myself with that
Shepard: nooooo you just go to his cabin in the middle of the night and ask him to translate what i assume was something very exciting
Liara: it was a poem
Shepard: a very exciting poem
Liara: please stop
She is very used to ignoring him, so it’s quite easy to go back to it after...the incident.
And besides, things are hurtling toward them at such a speed, the end is nearly in sight. Liara focuses all her attention on her networks, getting as much information to Shepard as she can, feeding news to the Alliance, to whoever asks for it. Many of her feeds are beginning to go dark. Little lights in a house going out, one by one.
When Shepard finally gives the order, Liara sits in front of a silent vidcomm as they hurtle towards Earth, and puts her face in her hands.
The door opens.
“Please,” she whispers. “Tell me it’s already over.”
“It is not,” Javik says. He puts a hand on her shoulder. “It has only just begun.”
Liara looks at him. He’s out of his armor. “I hate how you talk sometimes.”
He huffs. “Typical. I come here to bid you farewell, and you have nothing but insults for me,” he mutters, but it’s gentle. His hand doesn’t leave her shoulder. “You should rest, Liara.”
“I…” That’s how her name sounded in his voice that night.
And for you, I am ash.
“I thought it would be best if I was alone,” he says. “But the longer I’ve spent that way, the less I’ve enjoyed it.” He finally moves his hand, going further into her cabin. “I believe it to be the Commander’s fault. Forcing me to spend time with you all. Having that...party.” He looks at her. “I have been changed. My ancestors would not recognize me. They would look upon me with shame.”
Liara stands. “Are you?”
“Ashamed? No. I am not. I have come to realize what is truly so different about this cycle. While I do not regret the actions of my people, I see now why we were doomed.” He reaches out and strokes one finger along her cheek. Liara shivers. “You see another and do not first think of their flaws, but rather...what they can offer you in their strengths.”
“We aren’t all so kind.”
“No,” Javik says, “but you are. And when you look at me, for a moment, I see what you see.” Carefully, gently — he holds her face in his hands. “I see what you are, Liara.”
“Oh?” She can barely speak. “And what am I?”
“Salvation,” he whispers, and kisses her.
It is...oh, it’s a thousand things. Fire and sea salt and the last bit of sun as it settles over mountains. It’s a new find and hours looking for the answer. He kisses her, and Liara winds her arms around his neck, anchoring him.
“Let me be your flame,” he whispers. “Warm you. Touch the edges of your stars and whisper your name in the heavy scent of your longing.”
“Yes.” Liara kisses him again. “Yes.” She starts walking them toward her bed, fumbling with her clothes. Javik turns them, gives her a push and she falls backwards, hand gripping his shirt and pulling him down. He strips away her clothes, kneeling down at the foot of the bed to undo the laces of her boots before sliding her pants down and tossing them aside. Another time, another place, this could be a religion. Liara will remember that for the hours ahead. There was a time her people worshipped his.
Lips graze her bare legs, rough hands part them.
It’s not that way anymore.
“Do not leave me in the dark,” he murmurs. Presses a kiss along her thigh. “I should not perish…” Another on the opposite. “Without learning the taste of you.”
“Please.”
“Hm.” He looks up. “I could get used to the sound of you begging.”
“Javik.”
“And that,” he says, leaning in close. “Say it again.”
“Javik, please—”
“Oh, yes.” His tongue flicks out to taste her. “With pleasure.” One finger strokes between her folds as his tongue presses against her. He gets her legs over his shoulders and moans, the sound moving through her. There are a relentless few seconds where she adjusts. His tongue is like nothing she’s ever felt before, and the slide of his finger inside her is indulgent. Long and nimble, he strokes her, seeking the deepest part of her. Liara crosses her legs at her ankles over his back, pulling him closer. The soft sounds of him meld into the hum of her equipment. She pants, breathless, putting her hand on her chest. Her heart rate blooms.
Javik draws back, smearing his mouth and her slick against her thigh, looking up at her. “Does this satisfy you?”
That makes her laugh. She’s moaning and writhing and she can see how wet his mouth and chin are and still —
“What is so funny?” He stops fingering her. Liara moans. “Tell me.”
“I just — oh Goddess — it’s so, so good,” she manages. “That you have to ask—”
“I only want to make you happy. Tomorrow could be the end of our lives.”
Liara nods. “I know. I just…” She touches his jaw. “I don’t want to think about that now. I want you.”
Javin hums, kissing her thigh again. “So I am more than a project for you, Liara T’Soni?”
“Yes,” she says. “So much more.”
He strokes her again. “That is all I needed to hear.”
Shepard’s right. He’s been working out.
Of course, Liara keeps this to herself. After she comes, she pulls him further into her bed, getting him out of the rest of his clothes, straddling his waist and inspecting him properly. His shoulders are broad, even without his armor. Liara could put her hands on either one and ride him for as long as either of them could take, she’s sure of it. The way he’s hard against her, it seems he wants that, too.
“We can stay like this,” she says, kissing his neck, hands roaming over his chest. “I like it.”
“But there is something else.” She nods. “We saw it in you, so long ago.”
“Would you...we don’t have to.”
Javik cups her cheek and kisses her. “I would take whatever gifts you can give me.”
Liara nods. If anyone could understand it, he would be the one. She leans forward, tipping her forehead against his. His hands settle on her back and he closes his eyes.
“Ready?” she asks. He nods. She kisses him again.
No going back, she realizes.
Embrace eternity.
No regrets.
Embrace eternity.
No fears.
Embrace eternity.
Nothing at all.
The sweetness. Her first thought when she tastes the tears on his cheeks.
So this is who you are.
Yes.
This is who we are.
It would seem so.
It doesn’t hurt.
Did you think it would?
I had my concerns. My mind meld, your recall.
It seems to be alright…it is like nothing I’ve felt before.
No. It’s never been like this.
You are tremendously brave, Liara T’Soni.
And you are gentler than you’d like others to believe.
Hm.
I see what I see…are you ready?
Yes. I have been for some time.
Alright. Let go.
I…
It’s alright. I’ve got you. You can trust me, Javik…
“...You can trust me.”
Liara opens her eyes and finds herself held tight. Too tight.
“Javik—” He mutters something her translator doesn’t catch and releases her. Liara pushes herself up, gasping for breath, bracing herself against his chest. “That was…”
“Yes,” he croaks. “Yes it was.” He shifts beneath her. Liara reaches down and wraps a hand around the base of his cock, still hard. He hisses, fingers gripping the sheets tight. “Liara—”
“Do you want...” He nods. Looks at her, eyes half-lidded, hands stroking her thighs.
“Yes,” he says. “So very much.”
Liara gives his cock a few careful strokes, and when she finally, finally, finally lowers herself onto him, she feels —
“Oh.”
He’s bigger inside of her than he was in her hand, the ridges of his cock forcing her to take him slow. Liara gasps, and it feels like she may never finish this, she may never have all of him, she may never —
“So good,” Javik murmurs. He cups her cheek, drawing his thumb over her forehead and catching the sweat there before bringing it to his lips and licking it clean. “Beautiful.”
Liara blushes. She pushes against his chest and drops down the rest of the way onto his cock, her head falling back as she does. “Goddess—”
Javik makes a noise. “Liara, just—”
“Yes, yes I know, I can, I just need a moment.”
Javik laughs. “It has been fifty thousand years. I am concerned I do not have a moment.”
Liara nods, rolling her hips and getting used to the feel of him. “Yes,” she says, leaning down to kiss him. “I understand.”
It takes a few tries to find their rhythm, but once it’s there, it’s perfect. He meets her, thrust for thrust, before he sits up. Liara plants her knees on either side of him and feels his hands slide under her thighs as he steadies them both.
She gasps. “You feel—”
“And you—” He moans, burying his face in her neck as she holds him close to her. Liara isn’t sure how long he’ll last, but she desperately wants him for as long as she can have him.
Even if it’s just tonight. Even if it’s just for now.
“I...I am close,” he manages.
Liara nods. “It’s alright. I have you, you’re alright.” She kisses him again, his thrusts becoming more desperate, harder and faster until he tumbles forward, pressing her against the bed, pinning her down. His shoulder is right there, and Liara…
So you do bite.
Liara moans, sinking her teeth into him.
Good.
Javik comes with a shout, thrusting hard.
We’ll need that.
She pushes her head under his chin, settling into the crook of his arm.
“Mmm,” he hums. “That was...nice.”
Liara sighs. “Really? That’s it?”
“I believe that to be a very high compliment, considering.”
Liara shakes her head. “You’re impossible,” she murmurs, kissing his neck. She reaches over and touches the bite mark on his shoulder. He winces. “Did I hurt you?”
“Yes,” he says. “But I liked it.” He reaches over, stroking her arm. “It is nice to know that there is still one thing primitives are good at.” She swats his chest and he laughs. “You take things too seriously, asari.”
“Oh yes, I’m the serious one.” She sighs. It’s nice to be here, fitting against him, the thrum of the ship moving through them both. For a moment, Liara can pretend that they are not hurtling toward war. Toward death. For a moment, he is just...her lover. And there is a future for them, somewhere beyond all of this.
“You are thinking too much,” he murmurs, and kisses the top of her head.
“I...I know.”
He pulls her closer. “Rest with me, Liara T’Soni. Rest. And we will think about the future when it comes.”
He looks...surprised. To be alive. There is blood dripping from a wound in his head, and when Liara reaches up to touch it, her own hand is smeared blue.
“Javik…”
He looks at her. “I—”
“Come back to me.”
“It’s…”
Liara nods. “Yes,” she says and pulls him to her. “It’s over.”
He shakes his head. “N-no. No, it can’t be. There...there has to be more. It cannot be this easy.”
Liara looks out across the city, smouldering, falling apart. All of Earth looks like this. She turns back to him. “...What, about any of this, was easy?”
He stares past her. “Three hundred years,” he whispers. “We fought. For three hundred years. And we could not…”
“Javik.” Liara steps in front of him and takes his face in her hands. He finally looks back at her. “It is finally over.” She pulls him close, pressing her forehead to his. “Please, stay with me. Don’t go. Don’t leave. Don’t lose yourself, not just yet.”
He breathes, closes his eyes. “I don’t know what to do. What am I, when the fighting is done?”
Liara cups his cheek. He looks terrified, but that doesn’t frighten her. For the first time since her mother died, she no longer feels lost. She no longer feels like she is living on borrowed time. The Reapers are gone. The war is over. The future she wanted, the years she wished for — she has them, now. She can do what she likes. She can live.
Because she — is alive.
“I don’t know what you want to be,” she says, “but if you’d like—” Liara kisses him. “You can be mine.”
Javik takes her hand. “That is...quite the offer.”
“I’m sorry if it’s too much.”
He shakes his head. “No,” he says, and brings her hand to his lips. “It is not.” He looks up at the sky, where the stars of a galaxy on the edge of something new blink down at them.
“It is precisely what I need.”