Femshep/Samara/Liara: The Hero's End of War
anonymous
October 12 2015, 20:21:06 UTC
The fun in the Azure Sky abruptly came to an end with the sudden disappearance of Shepard. Now Samara and Liara have to find her, but first a bit of a prologue (better late than never) to the series to see how Shepard and Samara ended up in their unique relationship. There will also be an epilogue. The story will happen in between, which is the overall end to the series. Also, prepare yourself for a shocking twist that you'd have never seen coming if I hadn't mentioned it just now or haven't been teasing a commenter about for over a year... dear god I started this over two and half years ago... sigh... Oh, and a quick warning... not much smuttiness is in this one; used most of it up in the Spoils of War.
Standard Note: The only things established about Shepard are that she is paragon and an infiltrator. I hope nothing else slips in, such as how she looks. I want to interfere with head cannons as little as possible. So, just picture your Shepard. The BDSM elements are rather soft and contained in a loving relationship.
The Hero's End of War 1a/3
anonymous
October 12 2015, 20:22:12 UTC
Samara didn't have a vivid memory of the first time she saw Commander Shepard that day on Illium. Though she had little experience with humans, encountering one wasn't particularly noteworthy. All and all it was a rather routine mission that was barely worthy of record. It was only when she boarded the Normandy that things got interesting and she realized what a remarkable person she was in the company of, but even then she never would have guessed how much of an impact such a young creature would have on her life. Looking back she wished she had paid more attention, it would have made the story of their relationship so much more romantic. Their second meeting on Illium however made a lasting impression.
After the defeat of the Reapers the weary matriarch attempted to return to her old way of life, but doubted herself almost immediately. The Justicars were all but gone, their ranks thinned in combat and in the aftermath. The destruction of the monastery on Lesuss stole the purpose for many to follow the code and so they left the order. The massacre of the Ardat-Yakshi made Samara question her devotion as well, though not in the same way; she had already given her answer when Morinth died. It was the allure of reuniting with her last surviving daughter Falere that got her wondering about a change in path and the more time that past the more she leaned toward abandoning her oath to live in peace. The amount of sorrow and suffering in the post-war galaxy was overwhelming; she didn't know if there was anything she could do to help. It was as she was on the brink of collapse that she ran into her former commander.
It was much the same as the first time; Samara was tracking down a criminal on Illium while Shepard was tracking her down, even getting the same person to assist with the hunt, but that was where the similarities ended. As she didn't encounter the lauded, peerless Commander determinedly caring out a vital mission, what she found was an aimless, tired woman reclining on a bench in the middle of a quaint park. Dressed in short pants that hung past the knee, surplus army boots and a plain, gray hoodie the marine vet looked nothing like the armored hero she had previously known. Originally she thought the outfit was a disguise until she found out later that was just the human's normal civilian attire. Once she was spotted though her friend perked right up; it was quite flattering to be honest.
Few pleasantries were exchanged as a slew of more pressing questions immediately flooded the matriarch's mind. There were conflicting reports on whether the Commander had died. Obviously she hadn't, but Samara was still curious how that was possible. Shepard wasn't sure, didn't have any clear memories between jumping into the Conduit and waking under a pile of rocks three days later. There was really nothing for her to share so they moved on to the next obvious topic of why she was there. If it was just a matter of catching up it would have to wait until after the Justicar's hunt for a slaver who had been preying on refugees was complete. Immediately the woman offered to help, in fact she happened to have a tip from the Shadow Broker on where to find the scumbag.
The hunt was over quickly as the criminal didn't even know she was being tracked, so wasn't in hiding. When caught she immediately surrendered and was able to negotiate a deal with Samara. Basically, in exchange for not being executed on the spot she agreed to hand herself over to the police and give the Justicar any information she could on her business dealings as well as the locations of all the slaves she had sold. She had destroyed many lives, but not once had she ever hurt anyone. Not a single use of violence. It was hard to decide whether that made the villainous matron noble or just pathetic.
The Hero's End of War 1b/3
anonymous
October 12 2015, 20:23:12 UTC
As soon as the rather mundane case was wrapped up Shepard immediately asked if the matriarch would like some help tracking down the other leads the slave had provided. It was at that point Samara directly questioned why the woman was there. A clear answer wasn't forthcoming as it seemed even the former marine didn't know for sure. She humored the almost incoherent human awhile and agreed to share a meal, considering everything the Commander did for the galaxy at large and her in particular it was the least she could do. Eventually she had to get back to her duty and when she mentioned again there was an offer of assistance. She politely turned it down, her mission was a solo one, but to her shock that response was not accepted. What followed was an argument that gave her flashbacks of conversations she had with her daughters when they were children. It was a weird situation that took a little too long to resolve, but finally they part ways. That separation was short lived.
Samara sifted through the procured data overnight and quickly set her sights on the volus who helped launder money stolen from the refugees-turned-slaves, as he resided only a few miles away. It was an obvious, predictable plan that she didn't give a second thought about. So when she showed up at the target's house the following morning and found Shepard sitting on the couch, the diminutive alien tied up in the corner she wasn't surprise her course of actions had been predicted, but that someone would bother doing it at all. Then for the second time in as many days she was forced to rebuff the strangely immature woman. She figured that would be the end of it, but just to be safe she decided to leave Illium behind. That didn't help.
A week later the Justicar again found the wayward woman on a bench on a space station this time, dressed the same as before, except the sweatshirt's hood was pulled up. For the life of her she could not figure out what was going on with Shepard following her. She didn't even humor the human and preemptively refused any sort of partnership, purposely being quite rude. That wasn't enough. Despite leaving no hint as to what she was doing the former marine managed to track her down yet again on the nearby planet. Enough was enough and Samara directly confronted her stalker.
A short argument led to the matriarch harshly asking, "What is wrong with you?"
After a moment of silence Shepard replied earnestly, "I don't know. I don't feel right and all the doctors say is to get rest and live on a beach or something. I need friends not professionals."
For a long few minutes Samara stared at the human in quiet contemplation. There was nothing in the Code about such a situation; the first time she had noticed any fallibility in it. This woman had done so much for so many, including herself, and asked for so little in return, just like a true Justicar. There had to be something she could do. In the moment she wasn't sure what, but letting Shepard tag along for awhile would at least give her time to come up with a way to help. She finally agreed to the Commander's request which was immediately followed by a squeal and a one-sided hug. It was very strange.
The flashbacks of her time as a mother renewed as her now excited companion led her to a surprise at the station's docks. The rapid change in moods would usually make Samara suspect deceit, but she knew that wasn't the case here. Some form of PTSD was possible in which case a doctor would be in order, though the way the former marine was acting didn't quite fit that diagnosis. Then again trauma most likely affected humans differently than asari. She thought it best to observe and assess before deciding on a course of action. At least Shepard didn't seem to be suffering and it was quite amusing to watch the great hero act like a teenage kid.
The Hero's End of War 1c/3
anonymous
October 19 2015, 19:37:15 UTC
The grand surprise turned out to be a small, STG ship. The model was a generation out of date, which to the salarians was practically ancient, but it was still just a hair below state of the art. With the help of Major Kirrahe, Shepard had been able to procure the vessel from Sur'Kesh with the credits that she got from selling her apartments on the Citadel and Intai'sei. She then had just enough money left to refurbish the inside to make it feel less spartan and more homey.
Samara asked, "Why go to such effort? Why not just live in one of those apartments?"
Shepard's odd response was, "Then they could find me."
"Who?"
"Everyone!" with an exaggerated flap of the arms.
"Do you fear for your safety?"
"Oh no, of course not, no one can hurt me. I know that."
Before the Justicar could react to the strange answer she was dragged through the airlock and the ship's tour began. She was first led to the cockpit where it was pointed out how two rock-hard, pilot seats had been replaced with one that was far more comfortable, as recommended by Joker. There was then some technobabble she didn't really understand; the infiltrator's expertise went beyond what was necessary for the job. Shepard was a dork at heart. From there, there was a quick explanation of the narrow, locker-lined hallway before they made it to the living area. It was pleasant and set up much like the Commander's cabin on the Normandy, though she had only been in it once so wasn't entirely sure what exactly was different. She was certain there wasn't a kitchen however.
Throughout the tour Shepard barely took a breath as she had something to say about everything and was more than willing to go into detail about all of it. Prattling on and on about couches and sinks was a bit out of character for her, from Samara's experience at least, but it wasn't as unusual as it seemed. This was the first space she had ever had that was truly hers. As a child she never got the chance to personalize a room to such an extent. She had even less freedom after joining the military. From there she lived in some nice places, but she never really had a say in how they looked. The cabin on the Normandy, her apartments on the Citadel and Intai'sei and even the barebones one she kept on Earth were all pre-furnished with no input from her. She really liked them and all, which is way she copied aspects from them, but still they were all someone else's property not her own. This ship was hers and no one else's.
The tour ended with the one room lower deck that was used by STG units as a staging area, though what purpose it would have to an apparently civilian Shepard was beyond Samara. The lockers above seemed to provide more than enough storage for a single person and none of the equipment or fixtures had any role outside of a military one so she wondered what her former commander would do with it. She was given a few minutes to ponder the possibilities as her guide had finally seemed to run out of words. Maybe install a fish tank. She idly inspected a console, not noticing she was actually in an awkward silence until she turned back toward her suddenly fidgety friend.
Shepard mumbled, "What do you think?"
"It is a very nice ship."
"You really like it?"
"Yes."
"Enough to want to travel around in it?"
"Shepard, we have been over this..."
Before Samara could give her a thoroughly explained rejection again, the wayward woman cut in, "I know, I know; Justicar, work alone, the Code, yada-yada. But this is my ship, not yours, so you wouldn't own it, so you still wouldn't have any possessions. It'd be like the Normandy again where you're just a passenger, except you'd get to determine where to go. I'd just help you, whatever that means. If all you want is a chauffeur, that's fine, I'll stay on the ship. I'd like to help more than that, but I'll defer to you on everything."
The Hero's End of War 1d/3
anonymous
October 26 2015, 19:55:47 UTC
"Why are you being so persistent?"
"I don't want to be alone, but I don't want to be around people who look up to me. I want to help people, but I don't want to do deal with everything that being a marine or spectre entails, like paperwork and dealing with assholes. And I just want to be a soldier again, just give me my orders and let me do the job. I don't want to give orders, I don't want that responsibility and I'm honestly not sure I could handle it at the moment anyway."
"Why me?"
"You're the only one I can think of whom fits all the criteria and I really like you, I think you're awesome and I respect you a lot." Then after a long breath Shepard deflated, adding, "I won't bother you anymore. I mean I have other options, good ones. Not as good as you though. Garrus was talking about maybe going back to Omega and doing his Archangel thing again. I'd call myself the Demon; Archangel and the Demon. Grunt wants to be the first krogan spectre. That doesn't seem realistic, but I could train him a bit. There's also Kasumi, she's been acting more like Robin Hood since the war and I think I could get her to go full do-gooder if I joined her. I might try Liara next though; I don't think she's doing anything evil or at least not too evil. I could help tone her down if she is, maybe..."
The human's rambling gave Samara enough time to consider her reply fully and a little over half a minute after Shepard trailed off she said, "We can at least give traveling together a try."
For the second time that day the ancient Justicar was bombarded with a girlish squeal followed up quickly by a powerful hug that trapped her arms against her sides. If not for her armor she might have been injured. There had to be something seriously wrong with the former commander; adults, let alone marines, don't act that way. As she was being affectionately crushed she swore to determine the human's problem before they parted ways again. She would give it as much time as was necessary. There was no need to rush since having Shepard at her side would only help her in her duties. Though she didn't yet realize it at that moment, it would also give her a renewed sense of purpose.
Samara ended up not leaving the ship, since neither of them had any further business on the station they decided to depart right away. They did not, however, have a destination in mind. With control of the flight plan resting on the Justicar's shoulders she reached out to her contacts, which now because of Shepard included the Shadow Broker, for a place in need of her assistance and with chaos reigning in much of the galaxy in the aftermath of the war finding such a place wasn't too difficult. She decided on a troubled system rather than a specific objective so she could go over living arrangements with her new roommate. Something she hadn't done in over seven-hundred years, back in her university days. She'd probably get along with Lidanya just fine today, but back then they could not have been any more opposite from one another; a rebellious youth with no plans for a future versus an honor roll student with designs for a military career. The stick-in-the-mud infuriated her on so many occasions, luckily that didn't seem like it would be the case with this companion.
An hour into the voyage the matriarch was proven wrong and a non-military use for the second deck was found, it would serve as her room. She needed nothing and a spartan space suited her just fine, although she did enjoy gazing at the stars from the observation deck on the Normandy. She only occasionally required sleep and whenever she did she would simply use the couch. Such accommodations were actually far nicer than she was used to. With the essentials set their journey began.
The Hero's End of War 1e/3
anonymous
November 2 2015, 19:12:22 UTC
As a sort of test run they broke up a small smuggling ring, nothing major and the perpetrators surrendered without resistance, but it let Samara know that Shepard really would follow her lead. Considering the level of skill the human possessed she felt no need to ease into things any further and their next mission involved dismantling a batarian pirate gang operating at the edge of asari territory. Again everything went smoothly, or at least as smoothly as fighting a gang of pirates can go, though it took them away from the ship for a few weeks. When they returned the former commander offered to stow their gear, so the matriarch decided to make use of the shower and wash off the accumulated filth that her armor had trapped against her skin.
The original purpose of their bathroom was for decontamination, where the salarians put their toilet was a mystery best left unsolved, so there was no shower stall just a showerhead and a drain. There wasn't even a door to close the space off with. Privacy wasn't really an issue for Samara; she just worried what issues it would cause her companion. At such a young age people are so much more self-conscious about their bodies, or were they? Shepard was around thirty, but she couldn't remember what the equivalent for her people would be. Obviously thirty was old enough to be an adult for them, a young-adult perhaps? How long did humans go through puberty? The matriarch pondered as she stripped down and stepped under the water. The warm streams felt so good after so many days spent trekking and fighting.
For several minutes Samara stood there letting the water wash over her, her chin tilted up so her face was the first part of her to be embraced by the soothing spray. Then her head dipped to allow her tight shoulders a chance to be massaged by the gentle streams. Her scaled skin required little more than a quick rinse, but the shower was providing some therapy for the weary muscles beneath so she stayed longer than was needed. Eventually she did have to leave and slowly turned around, then even more slowly opened her eyes. To her surprise the first thing she saw was Shepard, clutching a stack of towels while staring at her with a goofy expression.
It took a second before the human reacted to the matriarch's movement, "Sorry, I didn't mean to... Sorry... I... Sorry."
Shepard then dropped the towels and fled, leaving a momentarily confused Samara behind. It seemed like a complete overreaction to something that was bound to happen; the bathroom didn't have a door after all. The woman had done nothing wrong, but sure acted as if she had. Unless of course she thought she had just been caught peeping. The matriarch turned off the water then strolled over to fetch one of the dropped towels. Apparently it wasn't by chance that the former marine's top two choices were both asari. Though whether she was fully conscious of what influenced her decision was up in the air. Perhaps she should look up how long human puberty lasted.
The brave and mighty hero spent the rest of the day avoiding the matriarch; much like Rila would after doing something wrong. Morinth on the other hand never hid, was never afraid of repercussions, with one exception. Immediately confronting Shepard didn't seem the most prudent course of action, but she had to do something so began by doing a little research. If she weren't so out of practice dealing with other people her tact would have been different. She looked through varying medical, biologically and psychological texts about humans as well as several on the differences between them and asari. It turned out puberty was definitely not the case and the erratic behavior didn't quite fit the symptoms of PTSD either, although it couldn't be ruled out either. Something had to be wrong; the woman in her company was not the same one she fought the Collectors alongside. Perhaps she was overanalyzing things and the Commander just needed a break from everything, including whatever facade that was necessary to lead soldiers into battle.
The Hero's End of War 1f/3
anonymous
November 9 2015, 21:18:31 UTC
Things remained awkward for the next couple weeks, especially after the former marine accidently walked in on the matriarch showering for a second time. Shepard's adolescent embarrassment was renewed and talking things through became nearly impossible. The woman wouldn't engage, just nod along and agree with everything Samara said, never adding anything to the conversation. Then by chance one morning while searching for tools to fix a ding in her armor she stumbled upon a box buried in the back of one of the larger lockers. Scribbled on the top were markings she didn't recognized, a quick scan with her omni-tool told her they were letters from one of Earth's dominant languages, though she couldn't find a translation for 'LNT'. It was a mystery she wouldn't learn the answer to for quite some time.
Inside the sealed, though not locked, box were an assortment of items she kind of recognized but not quite. Again Samara turned to her omni-tool and was a bit surprised to learn they were all sex toys. Perhaps the 'T' stood for toy? More specifically the toys were largely of the BDSM variety, an acronym she'd never heard of but the practices were quite universal. There were few fetishes, lifestyles and kinks that weren't popular amongst the asari. Gazing at the restraints Shepard's words flashed through her mind; "just give me my orders and let me do the job. I don't want to give orders, I don't want that responsibility". Shepard had been nothing but submissive since they officially joined forces. She doubted her former commander had any crass intentions, if anything the embarrassed reactions to seeing her naked showed a certain naivety and innocence in the planning of this endeavor, but there may have been an underlying subconscious desire at play.
Samara put the box back exactly how she had found it and went to meditate on what to do next. It turned out to be a long session that lasted until dinner time. She emerged from the lower deck to find Shepard preparing spaghetti and chicken-balls, which wasn't a misunderstanding on the alien's part, the woman used chicken to make meatballs for some unknown reason. Without a word she took a seat at the kitchen table and silently watched the amateur cook work, making the former marine more and more self-conscious with each passing minute. She did nothing to alleviate the tension, just waited expectantly for her meal.
Once the food was ready, Shepard dished up two plates, sliding one to her companion before sitting down. She grabbed her fork and was ready to eat when Samara interrupted with a request for water. Request wasn't quite the right word; the matriarch's tone was more demanding than that though not enough to be considered an order. It struck the right balance so that the human didn't really think about it she just filled a glass and passed it over. She sat again and again she was interrupted before she could get anywhere. The matriarch wanted a knife and she thought nothing of fetching one. Then a napkin was wanted, followed by a cushion then a second fork because the first had a speck of hardened crud on it. Not once did she complain or even pay what she was doing any mind, just obediently carried out what was asked of her.
They had their meal in a comfortable silence. With the matriarch's attention focused elsewhere Shepard was able to relax and Samara was never bothered by quiet or much of anything else really. The Justicar ate more quickly than usual and left her plate behind to be cleared by her companion. There still wasn't a hint of dissent, so she decided to push further. Normally when she showered she removed her armor in the bathroom, partial for privacy's sake, but mostly for efficiency as it was a good time to rinse off her equipment. That evening however she chose to strip out of her distinctive red outfit in the middle of the den. She knew she was being watched, though that didn't mean she tried to make a show of it. Much like her plate she left everything behind, on the floor for someone else to pick up.
The Hero's End of War 1g/3
anonymous
November 17 2015, 03:28:17 UTC
Shepard watched slack jawed, swirl of pasta hovering inches from her gaping mouth, as a nude goddess walked across her living room. Her brain overloaded and it didn't even occur to her to question what was happening or why it was happening. All the galactic hero could manage to do was stare and drool. It was the droplets of spittle hurdling her lower lip that knocked her from her stupor as she quickly sucked them back in. The blue mirage was gone and her ability to process thoughts recovered. That was when she noticed the spaghetti that had been on her fork slipped and fell into her lap. She picked the bit of food off her leg and plopped it back onto her plate then with an annoyed grunt popped up to her feet. She hoped to defeat the stain with a hot water assault before it could entrench itself in the fabric of her sweatpants.
Any attempt to halt the settling sauce was thwarted when the former commander heard a call, "Shepard, I could use your assistance."
There was a long silence before Samara got a reply, "Uh, sure, what do you need?"
"Help with my back, if you would?"
Another quiet moment then a hesitant, "Okay."
The matriarch was keeping her back to the door while standing underneath the shower's spray and had to look back over her shoulder using just the barest sliver of the corner of her eye to watch her young friend shuffle into the room. Her gaze was not returned as Shepard attempted to look every which way but her way. Both accidental intrusions involved several moments of gawking before retreat, when invited however there wasn't even a try at a glance. It was odd to see the great Commander so awkward and shy.
Samara gave her companion a minute or so, but eventually had to ask, "Will you help me with my back or not?"
Shepard's whole body jerked as if a bolt of electricity had hit her, which inadvertently caused her eyes to fall upon the wet, nude asari just a few yards away. "Like, over there? Should I come over to you?"
"That seems the best way to do it."
"Uh yeah, makes sense," as the woman hooked her thumbs in the waist of her grey sweats.
Before the pants could get much beyond mid-hip Samara asked, "What are you doing?"
"I'm going to get into the shower with you," saying it brought a smile to Shepard's lips and made her a little bolder. "To help with your back and whatever else you may need help with."
"No, you may keep your clothing on. I am the one bathing, not you."
A bit crushed the woman's fingers slipped from her waist, then after taking a few sulking steps forward asked, "Aren't you going to turn off the water?"
"I rather not," Samara replied as she reached back to hand her new attendant a bottle of soap.
"But what about my clothes?"
The asari did a quick study of the human's outfit and said, "You wash them with water, correct? I am sure they will be fine."
Shepard pouted, "I guess so."
"Good then," and Samara again faced the far wall, sliding a little forward to force her companion to step under the water.
There was a squeeze and a plop then two very strong hands began to soap up the matriarch's shoulders. Not a hint of resistance or even free will. Did Shepard not find the situation strange, at all? She didn't wonder why Samara needed help this time, but none of the previous times? She didn't even put up a fight to save her clothes; they were just some old sweatpants and a cheap t-shirt, but they still deserved a rebuttal at least. Instead she let them get soaked so she could wash her friend's back like it was a normal occurrence. She did show some life when her chore was nearly done though and tried to keep going lower even after reaching the base of the spine. She didn't make it to the goal.
Re: The Hero's End of War 1g/3
anonymous
November 18 2015, 17:07:00 UTC
=( I personally like Liara's involvement her addition to the story was the catalyst for a healthier relationship between Samara and Shepard also I find Liara being teased/tormented and enjoying it quite adorable.
Still find it weird how often this story is referred to as cute or adorable. Not complaining, quite flattered in fact, it's just I'm not trying for adorable, but it keeps coming out that way. Maybe I should have Shepard kick a puppy or punt a baby krogan.
Oh the over all story I find serious and in the beginning Shepard/Samara was an abusive relationship and we saw that when Samara used that giant dick on Shepard ass, Shepard was too concerned about disappointing Samara to even complain and got lucky that Samara cared too much to abuse this fact. Also Liara/Shepard when Shepard wakes up bound and Liara keeps her bound could be construed as rape as Liara never asked what her partner liked and even ignored when Shepard told Liara she didn't really like what Liara was doing. But again she obeyed Samara's orders honestly Shepard's turn dominating both Samara and Liara was vital to begin a healthy relationship where they are equal partners and Shepard isn't just some plaything for Samara and Liara to enjoy...
Oh, and a quick warning... not much smuttiness is in this one; used most of it up in the Spoils of War.
Sequel to:
The Justicar’s Dog of War… http://masseffectkink.livejournal.com/6066.html?thread=27557554#t27557554
The Broker’s Tug of War… http://masseffectkink.livejournal.com/6609.html?thread=29545681#t29545681
The Maiden’s Prisoners of War… http://masseffectkink.livejournal.com/7006.html?thread=32694622#t32694622
The Refugee’s Shadows of War… http://masseffectkink.livejournal.com/7415.html?thread=34315255#t34315255
The Refugee's Nightmares of War... http://masseffectkink.livejournal.com/7415.html?thread=34952439#t34952439
The Hero's Spoils of War... http://masseffectkink.livejournal.com/7674.html?thread=37134586#t37134586
Tags: Femslash, Femshep/Samara/Liara, Femshep/Liara, Femshep/Samara
Standard Note: The only things established about Shepard are that she is paragon and an infiltrator. I hope nothing else slips in, such as how she looks. I want to interfere with head cannons as little as possible. So, just picture your Shepard. The BDSM elements are rather soft and contained in a loving relationship.
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After the defeat of the Reapers the weary matriarch attempted to return to her old way of life, but doubted herself almost immediately. The Justicars were all but gone, their ranks thinned in combat and in the aftermath. The destruction of the monastery on Lesuss stole the purpose for many to follow the code and so they left the order. The massacre of the Ardat-Yakshi made Samara question her devotion as well, though not in the same way; she had already given her answer when Morinth died. It was the allure of reuniting with her last surviving daughter Falere that got her wondering about a change in path and the more time that past the more she leaned toward abandoning her oath to live in peace. The amount of sorrow and suffering in the post-war galaxy was overwhelming; she didn't know if there was anything she could do to help. It was as she was on the brink of collapse that she ran into her former commander.
It was much the same as the first time; Samara was tracking down a criminal on Illium while Shepard was tracking her down, even getting the same person to assist with the hunt, but that was where the similarities ended. As she didn't encounter the lauded, peerless Commander determinedly caring out a vital mission, what she found was an aimless, tired woman reclining on a bench in the middle of a quaint park. Dressed in short pants that hung past the knee, surplus army boots and a plain, gray hoodie the marine vet looked nothing like the armored hero she had previously known. Originally she thought the outfit was a disguise until she found out later that was just the human's normal civilian attire. Once she was spotted though her friend perked right up; it was quite flattering to be honest.
Few pleasantries were exchanged as a slew of more pressing questions immediately flooded the matriarch's mind. There were conflicting reports on whether the Commander had died. Obviously she hadn't, but Samara was still curious how that was possible. Shepard wasn't sure, didn't have any clear memories between jumping into the Conduit and waking under a pile of rocks three days later. There was really nothing for her to share so they moved on to the next obvious topic of why she was there. If it was just a matter of catching up it would have to wait until after the Justicar's hunt for a slaver who had been preying on refugees was complete. Immediately the woman offered to help, in fact she happened to have a tip from the Shadow Broker on where to find the scumbag.
The hunt was over quickly as the criminal didn't even know she was being tracked, so wasn't in hiding. When caught she immediately surrendered and was able to negotiate a deal with Samara. Basically, in exchange for not being executed on the spot she agreed to hand herself over to the police and give the Justicar any information she could on her business dealings as well as the locations of all the slaves she had sold. She had destroyed many lives, but not once had she ever hurt anyone. Not a single use of violence. It was hard to decide whether that made the villainous matron noble or just pathetic.
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As soon as the rather mundane case was wrapped up Shepard immediately asked if the matriarch would like some help tracking down the other leads the slave had provided. It was at that point Samara directly questioned why the woman was there. A clear answer wasn't forthcoming as it seemed even the former marine didn't know for sure. She humored the almost incoherent human awhile and agreed to share a meal, considering everything the Commander did for the galaxy at large and her in particular it was the least she could do. Eventually she had to get back to her duty and when she mentioned again there was an offer of assistance. She politely turned it down, her mission was a solo one, but to her shock that response was not accepted. What followed was an argument that gave her flashbacks of conversations she had with her daughters when they were children. It was a weird situation that took a little too long to resolve, but finally they part ways. That separation was short lived.
Samara sifted through the procured data overnight and quickly set her sights on the volus who helped launder money stolen from the refugees-turned-slaves, as he resided only a few miles away. It was an obvious, predictable plan that she didn't give a second thought about. So when she showed up at the target's house the following morning and found Shepard sitting on the couch, the diminutive alien tied up in the corner she wasn't surprise her course of actions had been predicted, but that someone would bother doing it at all. Then for the second time in as many days she was forced to rebuff the strangely immature woman. She figured that would be the end of it, but just to be safe she decided to leave Illium behind. That didn't help.
A week later the Justicar again found the wayward woman on a bench on a space station this time, dressed the same as before, except the sweatshirt's hood was pulled up. For the life of her she could not figure out what was going on with Shepard following her. She didn't even humor the human and preemptively refused any sort of partnership, purposely being quite rude. That wasn't enough. Despite leaving no hint as to what she was doing the former marine managed to track her down yet again on the nearby planet. Enough was enough and Samara directly confronted her stalker.
A short argument led to the matriarch harshly asking, "What is wrong with you?"
After a moment of silence Shepard replied earnestly, "I don't know. I don't feel right and all the doctors say is to get rest and live on a beach or something. I need friends not professionals."
For a long few minutes Samara stared at the human in quiet contemplation. There was nothing in the Code about such a situation; the first time she had noticed any fallibility in it. This woman had done so much for so many, including herself, and asked for so little in return, just like a true Justicar. There had to be something she could do. In the moment she wasn't sure what, but letting Shepard tag along for awhile would at least give her time to come up with a way to help. She finally agreed to the Commander's request which was immediately followed by a squeal and a one-sided hug. It was very strange.
The flashbacks of her time as a mother renewed as her now excited companion led her to a surprise at the station's docks. The rapid change in moods would usually make Samara suspect deceit, but she knew that wasn't the case here. Some form of PTSD was possible in which case a doctor would be in order, though the way the former marine was acting didn't quite fit that diagnosis. Then again trauma most likely affected humans differently than asari. She thought it best to observe and assess before deciding on a course of action. At least Shepard didn't seem to be suffering and it was quite amusing to watch the great hero act like a teenage kid.
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The grand surprise turned out to be a small, STG ship. The model was a generation out of date, which to the salarians was practically ancient, but it was still just a hair below state of the art. With the help of Major Kirrahe, Shepard had been able to procure the vessel from Sur'Kesh with the credits that she got from selling her apartments on the Citadel and Intai'sei. She then had just enough money left to refurbish the inside to make it feel less spartan and more homey.
Samara asked, "Why go to such effort? Why not just live in one of those apartments?"
Shepard's odd response was, "Then they could find me."
"Who?"
"Everyone!" with an exaggerated flap of the arms.
"Do you fear for your safety?"
"Oh no, of course not, no one can hurt me. I know that."
Before the Justicar could react to the strange answer she was dragged through the airlock and the ship's tour began. She was first led to the cockpit where it was pointed out how two rock-hard, pilot seats had been replaced with one that was far more comfortable, as recommended by Joker. There was then some technobabble she didn't really understand; the infiltrator's expertise went beyond what was necessary for the job. Shepard was a dork at heart. From there, there was a quick explanation of the narrow, locker-lined hallway before they made it to the living area. It was pleasant and set up much like the Commander's cabin on the Normandy, though she had only been in it once so wasn't entirely sure what exactly was different. She was certain there wasn't a kitchen however.
Throughout the tour Shepard barely took a breath as she had something to say about everything and was more than willing to go into detail about all of it. Prattling on and on about couches and sinks was a bit out of character for her, from Samara's experience at least, but it wasn't as unusual as it seemed. This was the first space she had ever had that was truly hers. As a child she never got the chance to personalize a room to such an extent. She had even less freedom after joining the military. From there she lived in some nice places, but she never really had a say in how they looked. The cabin on the Normandy, her apartments on the Citadel and Intai'sei and even the barebones one she kept on Earth were all pre-furnished with no input from her. She really liked them and all, which is way she copied aspects from them, but still they were all someone else's property not her own. This ship was hers and no one else's.
The tour ended with the one room lower deck that was used by STG units as a staging area, though what purpose it would have to an apparently civilian Shepard was beyond Samara. The lockers above seemed to provide more than enough storage for a single person and none of the equipment or fixtures had any role outside of a military one so she wondered what her former commander would do with it. She was given a few minutes to ponder the possibilities as her guide had finally seemed to run out of words. Maybe install a fish tank. She idly inspected a console, not noticing she was actually in an awkward silence until she turned back toward her suddenly fidgety friend.
Shepard mumbled, "What do you think?"
"It is a very nice ship."
"You really like it?"
"Yes."
"Enough to want to travel around in it?"
"Shepard, we have been over this..."
Before Samara could give her a thoroughly explained rejection again, the wayward woman cut in, "I know, I know; Justicar, work alone, the Code, yada-yada. But this is my ship, not yours, so you wouldn't own it, so you still wouldn't have any possessions. It'd be like the Normandy again where you're just a passenger, except you'd get to determine where to go. I'd just help you, whatever that means. If all you want is a chauffeur, that's fine, I'll stay on the ship. I'd like to help more than that, but I'll defer to you on everything."
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"Why are you being so persistent?"
"I don't want to be alone, but I don't want to be around people who look up to me. I want to help people, but I don't want to do deal with everything that being a marine or spectre entails, like paperwork and dealing with assholes. And I just want to be a soldier again, just give me my orders and let me do the job. I don't want to give orders, I don't want that responsibility and I'm honestly not sure I could handle it at the moment anyway."
"Why me?"
"You're the only one I can think of whom fits all the criteria and I really like you, I think you're awesome and I respect you a lot." Then after a long breath Shepard deflated, adding, "I won't bother you anymore. I mean I have other options, good ones. Not as good as you though. Garrus was talking about maybe going back to Omega and doing his Archangel thing again. I'd call myself the Demon; Archangel and the Demon. Grunt wants to be the first krogan spectre. That doesn't seem realistic, but I could train him a bit. There's also Kasumi, she's been acting more like Robin Hood since the war and I think I could get her to go full do-gooder if I joined her. I might try Liara next though; I don't think she's doing anything evil or at least not too evil. I could help tone her down if she is, maybe..."
The human's rambling gave Samara enough time to consider her reply fully and a little over half a minute after Shepard trailed off she said, "We can at least give traveling together a try."
For the second time that day the ancient Justicar was bombarded with a girlish squeal followed up quickly by a powerful hug that trapped her arms against her sides. If not for her armor she might have been injured. There had to be something seriously wrong with the former commander; adults, let alone marines, don't act that way. As she was being affectionately crushed she swore to determine the human's problem before they parted ways again. She would give it as much time as was necessary. There was no need to rush since having Shepard at her side would only help her in her duties. Though she didn't yet realize it at that moment, it would also give her a renewed sense of purpose.
Samara ended up not leaving the ship, since neither of them had any further business on the station they decided to depart right away. They did not, however, have a destination in mind. With control of the flight plan resting on the Justicar's shoulders she reached out to her contacts, which now because of Shepard included the Shadow Broker, for a place in need of her assistance and with chaos reigning in much of the galaxy in the aftermath of the war finding such a place wasn't too difficult. She decided on a troubled system rather than a specific objective so she could go over living arrangements with her new roommate. Something she hadn't done in over seven-hundred years, back in her university days. She'd probably get along with Lidanya just fine today, but back then they could not have been any more opposite from one another; a rebellious youth with no plans for a future versus an honor roll student with designs for a military career. The stick-in-the-mud infuriated her on so many occasions, luckily that didn't seem like it would be the case with this companion.
An hour into the voyage the matriarch was proven wrong and a non-military use for the second deck was found, it would serve as her room. She needed nothing and a spartan space suited her just fine, although she did enjoy gazing at the stars from the observation deck on the Normandy. She only occasionally required sleep and whenever she did she would simply use the couch. Such accommodations were actually far nicer than she was used to. With the essentials set their journey began.
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As a sort of test run they broke up a small smuggling ring, nothing major and the perpetrators surrendered without resistance, but it let Samara know that Shepard really would follow her lead. Considering the level of skill the human possessed she felt no need to ease into things any further and their next mission involved dismantling a batarian pirate gang operating at the edge of asari territory. Again everything went smoothly, or at least as smoothly as fighting a gang of pirates can go, though it took them away from the ship for a few weeks. When they returned the former commander offered to stow their gear, so the matriarch decided to make use of the shower and wash off the accumulated filth that her armor had trapped against her skin.
The original purpose of their bathroom was for decontamination, where the salarians put their toilet was a mystery best left unsolved, so there was no shower stall just a showerhead and a drain. There wasn't even a door to close the space off with. Privacy wasn't really an issue for Samara; she just worried what issues it would cause her companion. At such a young age people are so much more self-conscious about their bodies, or were they? Shepard was around thirty, but she couldn't remember what the equivalent for her people would be. Obviously thirty was old enough to be an adult for them, a young-adult perhaps? How long did humans go through puberty? The matriarch pondered as she stripped down and stepped under the water. The warm streams felt so good after so many days spent trekking and fighting.
For several minutes Samara stood there letting the water wash over her, her chin tilted up so her face was the first part of her to be embraced by the soothing spray. Then her head dipped to allow her tight shoulders a chance to be massaged by the gentle streams. Her scaled skin required little more than a quick rinse, but the shower was providing some therapy for the weary muscles beneath so she stayed longer than was needed. Eventually she did have to leave and slowly turned around, then even more slowly opened her eyes. To her surprise the first thing she saw was Shepard, clutching a stack of towels while staring at her with a goofy expression.
It took a second before the human reacted to the matriarch's movement, "Sorry, I didn't mean to... Sorry... I... Sorry."
Shepard then dropped the towels and fled, leaving a momentarily confused Samara behind. It seemed like a complete overreaction to something that was bound to happen; the bathroom didn't have a door after all. The woman had done nothing wrong, but sure acted as if she had. Unless of course she thought she had just been caught peeping. The matriarch turned off the water then strolled over to fetch one of the dropped towels. Apparently it wasn't by chance that the former marine's top two choices were both asari. Though whether she was fully conscious of what influenced her decision was up in the air. Perhaps she should look up how long human puberty lasted.
The brave and mighty hero spent the rest of the day avoiding the matriarch; much like Rila would after doing something wrong. Morinth on the other hand never hid, was never afraid of repercussions, with one exception. Immediately confronting Shepard didn't seem the most prudent course of action, but she had to do something so began by doing a little research. If she weren't so out of practice dealing with other people her tact would have been different. She looked through varying medical, biologically and psychological texts about humans as well as several on the differences between them and asari. It turned out puberty was definitely not the case and the erratic behavior didn't quite fit the symptoms of PTSD either, although it couldn't be ruled out either. Something had to be wrong; the woman in her company was not the same one she fought the Collectors alongside. Perhaps she was overanalyzing things and the Commander just needed a break from everything, including whatever facade that was necessary to lead soldiers into battle.
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Things remained awkward for the next couple weeks, especially after the former marine accidently walked in on the matriarch showering for a second time. Shepard's adolescent embarrassment was renewed and talking things through became nearly impossible. The woman wouldn't engage, just nod along and agree with everything Samara said, never adding anything to the conversation. Then by chance one morning while searching for tools to fix a ding in her armor she stumbled upon a box buried in the back of one of the larger lockers. Scribbled on the top were markings she didn't recognized, a quick scan with her omni-tool told her they were letters from one of Earth's dominant languages, though she couldn't find a translation for 'LNT'. It was a mystery she wouldn't learn the answer to for quite some time.
Inside the sealed, though not locked, box were an assortment of items she kind of recognized but not quite. Again Samara turned to her omni-tool and was a bit surprised to learn they were all sex toys. Perhaps the 'T' stood for toy? More specifically the toys were largely of the BDSM variety, an acronym she'd never heard of but the practices were quite universal. There were few fetishes, lifestyles and kinks that weren't popular amongst the asari. Gazing at the restraints Shepard's words flashed through her mind; "just give me my orders and let me do the job. I don't want to give orders, I don't want that responsibility". Shepard had been nothing but submissive since they officially joined forces. She doubted her former commander had any crass intentions, if anything the embarrassed reactions to seeing her naked showed a certain naivety and innocence in the planning of this endeavor, but there may have been an underlying subconscious desire at play.
Samara put the box back exactly how she had found it and went to meditate on what to do next. It turned out to be a long session that lasted until dinner time. She emerged from the lower deck to find Shepard preparing spaghetti and chicken-balls, which wasn't a misunderstanding on the alien's part, the woman used chicken to make meatballs for some unknown reason. Without a word she took a seat at the kitchen table and silently watched the amateur cook work, making the former marine more and more self-conscious with each passing minute. She did nothing to alleviate the tension, just waited expectantly for her meal.
Once the food was ready, Shepard dished up two plates, sliding one to her companion before sitting down. She grabbed her fork and was ready to eat when Samara interrupted with a request for water. Request wasn't quite the right word; the matriarch's tone was more demanding than that though not enough to be considered an order. It struck the right balance so that the human didn't really think about it she just filled a glass and passed it over. She sat again and again she was interrupted before she could get anywhere. The matriarch wanted a knife and she thought nothing of fetching one. Then a napkin was wanted, followed by a cushion then a second fork because the first had a speck of hardened crud on it. Not once did she complain or even pay what she was doing any mind, just obediently carried out what was asked of her.
They had their meal in a comfortable silence. With the matriarch's attention focused elsewhere Shepard was able to relax and Samara was never bothered by quiet or much of anything else really. The Justicar ate more quickly than usual and left her plate behind to be cleared by her companion. There still wasn't a hint of dissent, so she decided to push further. Normally when she showered she removed her armor in the bathroom, partial for privacy's sake, but mostly for efficiency as it was a good time to rinse off her equipment. That evening however she chose to strip out of her distinctive red outfit in the middle of the den. She knew she was being watched, though that didn't mean she tried to make a show of it. Much like her plate she left everything behind, on the floor for someone else to pick up.
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Shepard watched slack jawed, swirl of pasta hovering inches from her gaping mouth, as a nude goddess walked across her living room. Her brain overloaded and it didn't even occur to her to question what was happening or why it was happening. All the galactic hero could manage to do was stare and drool. It was the droplets of spittle hurdling her lower lip that knocked her from her stupor as she quickly sucked them back in. The blue mirage was gone and her ability to process thoughts recovered. That was when she noticed the spaghetti that had been on her fork slipped and fell into her lap. She picked the bit of food off her leg and plopped it back onto her plate then with an annoyed grunt popped up to her feet. She hoped to defeat the stain with a hot water assault before it could entrench itself in the fabric of her sweatpants.
Any attempt to halt the settling sauce was thwarted when the former commander heard a call, "Shepard, I could use your assistance."
There was a long silence before Samara got a reply, "Uh, sure, what do you need?"
"Help with my back, if you would?"
Another quiet moment then a hesitant, "Okay."
The matriarch was keeping her back to the door while standing underneath the shower's spray and had to look back over her shoulder using just the barest sliver of the corner of her eye to watch her young friend shuffle into the room. Her gaze was not returned as Shepard attempted to look every which way but her way. Both accidental intrusions involved several moments of gawking before retreat, when invited however there wasn't even a try at a glance. It was odd to see the great Commander so awkward and shy.
Samara gave her companion a minute or so, but eventually had to ask, "Will you help me with my back or not?"
Shepard's whole body jerked as if a bolt of electricity had hit her, which inadvertently caused her eyes to fall upon the wet, nude asari just a few yards away. "Like, over there? Should I come over to you?"
"That seems the best way to do it."
"Uh yeah, makes sense," as the woman hooked her thumbs in the waist of her grey sweats.
Before the pants could get much beyond mid-hip Samara asked, "What are you doing?"
"I'm going to get into the shower with you," saying it brought a smile to Shepard's lips and made her a little bolder. "To help with your back and whatever else you may need help with."
"No, you may keep your clothing on. I am the one bathing, not you."
A bit crushed the woman's fingers slipped from her waist, then after taking a few sulking steps forward asked, "Aren't you going to turn off the water?"
"I rather not," Samara replied as she reached back to hand her new attendant a bottle of soap.
"But what about my clothes?"
The asari did a quick study of the human's outfit and said, "You wash them with water, correct? I am sure they will be fine."
Shepard pouted, "I guess so."
"Good then," and Samara again faced the far wall, sliding a little forward to force her companion to step under the water.
There was a squeeze and a plop then two very strong hands began to soap up the matriarch's shoulders. Not a hint of resistance or even free will. Did Shepard not find the situation strange, at all? She didn't wonder why Samara needed help this time, but none of the previous times? She didn't even put up a fight to save her clothes; they were just some old sweatpants and a cheap t-shirt, but they still deserved a rebuttal at least. Instead she let them get soaked so she could wash her friend's back like it was a normal occurrence. She did show some life when her chore was nearly done though and tried to keep going lower even after reaching the base of the spine. She didn't make it to the goal.
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