[Illium & Citadel, via t'extranets] Not Exactly A Social Call (closed)

Professor Linya M'Tanis, of Nos Astra University's chemistry department, was bored. Lecture notes were done, her next tutorial was hours away, and she'd only just left her latest proof-of-concept preparations to cook overnight.

In this sort of situation, the extranet can be a useful tool. New scientific publications are released every day, there are fora to browse, games to play and videos to watch.
Or, if you're a particularly kinetic person, music to extravagantly dance to.
An aircar driver looking out of a window at just the right moment might have caught a glimpse of a tiny maelstrom of blue flying about a rather minimally decorated office to the sounds of two-thousand-year-old bubblefunk. With all the dignity and grace befitting her station, naturally.

When was Daia getting here again?

Daia hadn't been driving past at precisely the right moment, but - admitted to the department offices thanks to Linya's clearing her omni-tool for visits when she was given the position - she didn't need a visual to picture the scene when she approached the Professor's door and heard the unmistakably cheerful bubblefunk slowly gaining in volume as she neared.

Been a while since I've heard that, she thought idly, remembering a club she had worked at once where the owner had paired bubblefunk with an especially... memorable stage show. She couldn't help bopping along as she walked; luckily she was wearing a rather austere business dress, so while the sight may have been mildly perplexing to any passing observers, it wasn't scandalous.

She knocked on the door and, since its admission marker recognised her, opened it and entered, ready to catch Linya if she happened to be dancing in her direction and got caught off-guard.

"Hi Professor," she smiled, raising her voice slightly over the music. "How's academia treating you?"

"Eeeek!"
The antiquated hinged door had swung inward, brushing Linya's bottom as it opened - and the petite scientist had reacted exactly as you'd expect, by executing a sudden diving pirouette right into the arms of her visiting friend.
"Erm. Sorry?"
Mercifully, the bubblefunk track ended a few seconds later, to be replaced by a soothing weravena. The wonders of the "random" function.

"What ever for?" Daia smiled. Linya's dive into her waiting arms had ended with one arm wrapped around her waist for support; at the change of music, Daia took her friend's other hand and turned the impromptu grapple into a reasonable facsimile of a slow dance, swaying away from the door to let it close.

"It's good to see your new position hasn't come at the price of joie de vivre," she noted, leaving Linya in place while she did a sedate twirl. All things being equal, letting Linya do the twirl probably wouldn't have been the best of ideas.

Linya giggled. "Of course, I made it a condition when they appointed me!"
Taking Daia's arms again, she led them over to her desk before sliding away, around to where the Comfy Chairs lived - and two bars later, the miniature maiden was flat on her face next to the chair she'd just missed.
"Ow."

Of course, she was somehow back on her feet (purple-faced) within a couple of seconds, gesturing to her chair's twin opposite her.
"Have a seat," she smiled, her voice a reasonable facsimile of her mother's - and promptly shattered what illusion there was by bursting into laughter.

Daia winced, but not in alarm - in the year, local time, she had known Linya, she had become quite accustomed to the scientist's frequent spills, and her almost supernatural talent for never coming to any harm as a result. After a while she had begun to wonder if Linya was biotically cushioning herself - possibly even an unconscious reflex. She had never quite been able to think of a way to ask that didn't sound somehow rude.

"Thanks," she said, settling into her seat and sharing in the laughter. "I'm sorry it's taken me so long to come visit you here. Between the club and the company - and getting ready for the Terminus Cup perfomance and filming, now - it's been a hectic time."

She smiled, and there was a note of apology in her gaze when she spoke again.

"Actually, I have to confess an ulterior motive to calling and asking if I could stop by... Not that I don't fully intend to take the chance to catch up, as well," she added.

Not five seconds after sitting herself down, Linya was back on her feet with her arms wrapped around Daia's shoulders. Apologies tended to have that effect.
"Don't worry about it - you've had your thingies that you were busy with, I've had my thingies that I was busy with, it's been a great big busy thingy explosion!"
Releasing the older maiden, Linya plopped back down onto her seat and smiled at the mention of an ulterior motive. Provided no superacids were involved, she could probably accommodate whatever it was Daia was after quite happily.
"What do you need?"

Daia returned Linya's hug, and her smile as she returned to her seat.

"Thank you, sweet heart," she said. "What I need... Well," she gave a little shrug, looking away for a moment, wondering why it had taken her so long to do this. She shouldn't have been reluctant.

"I'd be very grateful of the opportunity to speak to your mother, some time," she said. "For advice - as a Matriarch. I know she's got all sorts of demands on her time already, and didn't seek out the role she's found herself in to begin with, but she-" Daia paused, wondering how to word it. Linya was asari, she told herself, she would understand.

"She is a Matriarch," she said at last. "I think - I hope - her counsel might help me come to terms with some things that have been worrying me, figure out how to address them." She looked at Linya, and while she wasn't upset, there was an undertone to her gaze, almost imploring. "I'm sorry I'm being so vague, I know you - any of my friends here - would help in a heartbeat, but... This is something very... personal."

She gave a weak little smile, and a duck of her head, as if in apology for not explaining herself better.

"Would you ask her, for me, if she'd see me?" she asked. "By comms obviously. I'd... hm," she chuckled softly, "I'd feel too presumptuous to just contact her myself, out of nowhere."

Linya blinked. Something Daia needed a matriarch for, rather than a friend... this had to be something serious. Still, even someone as unrestrained as Linya knew it wouldn't do to freak out at the implications.
"I can't see why she wouldn't... tell you what, I'll give her a call tonight and see what she says."

---

"Linya, slow down. I'd be happy to help."
"--it's just that... wait, really? Aren't you, like, really busy?"
Mirala smiled. "True, but it's hardly as if I was looking forward to yet another interminable debate on which corner of Serrice should be renovated next."
Linya stared open-mouthed for a few seconds. Apparently she hadn't expected this to be quite so easy.
"Oh. Erm. Great! I'll let her know - what kind of time?"
"Whenever she wants, provided I get a little warning so I can make sure I'm ready for her."
Now it was Linya's turn to smile.
"Thanks, Mum."
"You're very welcome, my dear."

Daia paced, knowing in the back of her mind that her fretfulness was atypical of her, and wondering if she had ever been this anxious about speaking with a Matriarch before. It wasn't as if she never had - even excluding her mother, the family friends, and the decades at school and the Academy when a young asari was bound to be in contact with Matriarchs on a daily basis, she had never been shy in seeking guidance whenever something or other concerned her. Or simply when her curiosity was piqued - dedicated teachers aside, Attena had been home to many a Matriarch whose door was open to young asari wishing to learn a little about whatever study or art it was she had come to devote her life to.

This felt different, though. Was it that she was older? She had settled down, true, but she still liked to think of herself as a Maiden in many ways, and if some people looked to her for advice which she gave as best she could, it certainly hadn't led her to think she was above learning from the wisdom of those around her. Or that Matriarchs were so much rarer in the places where she had lived since her travels, once her meandering through the Republics had broadened to include wholly non-asari worlds in the Terminus systems? Illium was asari, more or less, but its Matriarchs - and they were few, compared to a Republic - tended to favour corporate empire-building, their 'guidance' focused on the fortunes of huge transstellars.

Or was it simply that it was Ana? Her first bondmate. Her only bondmate, in her mind - she didn't ignore what a millennial lifespan meant, or believe that she would never know love elsewhere, but there would never be another Ana, and - whatever came - she would always be the most important, most cherished person in Daia's life, now, and in centuries to come. The anxiety at the prospect of letting her down, when she had finally admitted to herself that they did need to address what was silently bothering them, had sent her thoughts scurrying to the comfort of the response ingrained since childhood: seek a Matriarch.

Daia straightened as the screen in the suite changed from 'signal holding' to 'signal resolving'. She didn't want to keep secrets from Ana, but she had wanted space, for this meeting, without the need to close her door to her bondmate at the office for it. Eafina had given her use of one of the comms-equipped suites at the Oasis without question - decorated in tasteful style, and with the comms pickup focused on the kaffe table area and away from the expansive bed, it gave no hint that it was normally used for far more energetic purposes, and Daia's smooth, well-tailored dress was likewise polished while unassuming.

Okay, casual, Daia reminded herself. She remembered Mirala's post relating her discomfort at the adoration shown her by asari looking to her for wisdom. She had no intention of downplaying the respect she felt, but that didn't have to mean acting like she wanted to be her newest devotee.

"Honoured Matriarch," she said once the image on the screen had resolved, ducking her head and opening her hands to either side in a formal gesture.

Casual. Nice.

"Sorry... reflex action," she added, looking up with a sheepish grin - she hoped the joke wouldn't go amiss. "Thank you for seeing me."

Ever since her conscience had browbeaten her into assuming a "proper" matriarchal role, Mirala's meetings with those who had sought her out - or waylaid her in the street - had been a source of... well, not quite anxiety, but there had always been a little voice in the back of her mind making her doubt herself.
"Was that really the best advice you could have given," it would ask, "are you sure you know what you're doing?"
It was difficult, but she had usually been able to avoid second-guessing herself - Daia, though, was another matter. She was no stranger, and the obvious worry in Linya's eyes had added another uncomfortably personal layer to this particular appointment. Still, she wasn't about to turn her away simply because she was nervous.

"Signal resolving".
Mirala had one last look around her room, checking for anything out of place - nothing, of course, Kyne was nothing if not fastidious - and settled her mind into Matriarch Mode... wincing slightly at the gesture, however respectful.
"Oh, if you only knew how many times I've seen that this week..."
A gentle smile spread across her face, one she'd used many times to reassure a frightened little asari that the shadows under her bed couldn't hurt her.
"It's my pleasure, Daia. I always have time for as good a friend of Linya's as you have been - and please, it's just 'Mirala' to you."

The smile did its work - Daia felt the tension in her begin to ease instantly, the effect not at all lessened by her recognising that that was its purpose. Perhaps a smile like that could be faked, but if so, Daia hoped she never became cynical enough to suspect as much. As beautiful a smile as it was, it was the feeling behind it that soothed her nerves.

"Thank you, Mirala," she said, smiling in return. There was no hesitation in using her given name - knee-jerk reactions aside, Daia knew a little of how wearying the gently insistent reverence asari bestowed on their elders could become, and felt no awkwardness at dropping the formalities if that served to lessen it.

"It's no hardship being her friend," she said fondly. "She's so... well, you of all people know. There were times during the war - after Thessia, near the end - when... if I ever felt it becoming too much, I'd just have to think of her. No universe with her in it could ever be completely hopeless." It was the honest truth, too. She had drawn strength from the love of many around her, but there was something elemental about Linya, as if the living spirit of the galaxy siari spoke of had momentarily put aside its ineffable unfathomability and created her to say to all the shards of itself living mortal lives, "...but regardless of how confusing and vast this all seems, basically don't forget to smile every now and then."

"If it's any comfort," she added, "I promise, no matter how helpful you are, not to start camping outside your door in an effort to be your disciple." She gave a quiet little chuckle. "But no denying it, I need advice... a clearer perspective, I suppose. I'd talk to my mother, but she's my mother - I don't think for a moment she'd give false reassurance on that count, but being mother and child for four hundred years isn't just something she could put aside - and Eafina, who I'd normally go to for wisdom here, is Ana's friend as well, I don't feel right putting her in the position... I'm getting ahead of myself," she cut herself off, smiling wryly as she shook her head.

"Okay, from the beginning. This concerns Ana - both of us, rather, our bond. I'm coming to think a choice we've made was... not wrong, but perhaps having consequences we, or I at least, hadn't fully considered, and need addressing, in one way or another. I know there's no path forward but to talk with her about this, but I... well, I'm all tied up," she managed not to add 'and not in a good way', "and I need my thoughts orderly. I hope you can help me. I'm not looking for a solution - that's for me and Ana to arrive at between us - but I suppose perspective, a fresh set of eyes..." She laughed softly. "Perhaps just someone I respect as much as you to listen while I ramble through it all."

"Well, you've already given me more to go on than I usually get; usually, it's something along the lines of 'oh matriarch I've lost direction since the war ended can you fix it for me?'"
Mirala leaned forward a little, smile broadening slightly.
"Might I ask you to give me a little background first, before you get into the specifics of what it is that bothers you? How you met, what Ana's like as a person, that sort of thing - it'd just help me to have a little perspective. Linya's told me a little, of course, but she obviously doesn't know her as you do."

"She's... heh," Daia caught herself, grinning. "That was about to be one of those glowing declarations of how much I adore her - you can probably imagine the sort of thing. I'd mean every word, but still, maybe not the most enlightening approach..."

She let out a slow breath, putting her immediate response into a little more of an order.

"We first met two years ago - three standard years," she corrected herself, remembering Mirala wouldn't think in Illium's long years as she had come to do. "On the Citadel - during Bliss Festival, I was there with the Illian Stars, and doing a couple of little stage shows of my own. We met at a club she frequented - the Authority, I'm not sure if it's still around - and... well, one thing led to another, and we were both very happy that it did so." She smiled, thinking back. "It was a casual meeting, for both of us - although it was sharing one another's company, as well as the physical pleasure, if you follow me - but then afterwards... it wasn't immediate, but the more time went on the more I thought about her, looked forward to seeing her again... Clichéd but true," she chuckled.

"Anyway, by the time I found myself back on the Citadel, she'd... things were looking dark for her." The asari chose her words carefully, wanting to convey the truth of the situation without the full measure of the facts. There was no question of a Matriarch's confidentiality, but Daia didn't feel she had the right to ask that much, or to presume to reveal Ana's secrets to begin with. "Some time before she'd had a very harrowing series of experiences, mainly on Omega. Clichéd but true," she added again, her lips quirking slightly before her expression grew solemn again. "She was nearly killed, her home was blown up - by mistake, but still - and, well, basically just saying 'Omega' covers it. It left its mark on her. She couldn't be objective - she was a psychotherapist - and the trauma wasn't becoming more manageable with time. She had to undergo therapy herself - meld-based - and it meant the end of her career, everything she'd wanted to do with her life..."

She paused a moment, staring off into space.

"I was with her through it," she said quietly. "She told me everything that had happened to her, up front - she didn't want to disappear into therapy and leave me not knowing what had happened to her. When she was being treated I visited as often as her schedule allowed, we corresponded the whole time, we... fell in love," she smiled, "only seeing each other once every two weeks. She was... she had lost so much, she felt defeated, but somehow I saw this magnificent, brave person beneath all the pain the galaxy had put on her shoulders. We were just friends, really, at the start - with benefits, but that wasn't the important thing then - but the more I knew, the more I wanted to... be with her. I was - am - her one hope, her guiding star. When she looked at me, when I was with her, she was the person I saw inside her, the depth of passion and life, and... I never wanted to leave her side."

She sighed, shaking her head slightly.

"So that's... probably relevant information, so far as what she's like as a person," she noted, with a wry grin. "She's suffered, too much - but people do. She's cynical - bitter even, understandably though - but I only have to think of her to feel the galaxy becoming brighter. We're all contradictions - very dissimilar in a lot of ways, but we fit together. Not like each other, but for each other, I sometimes think. She doesn't easily let people in, but when she does she's the truest friend. She's world-weary in a way, but I don't think there's a limit to how deeply she cares for me. She... I'm starting to veer into another one of those declarations," she chuckled again. "We're maybe not the textbook well-balanced couple, but... she's my Ana." Daia wasn't in the habit of hiding her emotions - the three simple words shone in her eyes, and said it all.

Mirala was silent during Daia's surprisingly comprehensive exposition; even if it was lacking the odd detail, she likely had rather more than she needed to go on. Still, better to have more data than one needed.
Despite not even having reached Daia's problem yet, Mirala felt a pang of sympathy; she'd been bonded to a quarian before, but Orna'Kortl had passed away peacefully before she could see her people driven from their home. The resultant problems with immunity especially the envirosuits, had deprived Daia and Ana of so much. Yet they persisted, which was a small miracle in itself.

"She's a strong one. Even with your help - your love - she managed to make it through some really quite awful things."
Her smile faded slightly as her brain started to work. What could have happened?
"So, what changed?"

"She certainly is," Daia agreed, with a proud smile - Mirala didn't know the half of what Ana had endured, but it didn't surprise Daia at all that she'd grasped the heart of the matter.

"What changed... the war," she said, with a bitter little grin. Who hadn't the war changed? "When the call came in from the Flotilla, she answered. Not as a soldier, but they needed everyone, so Ana was part of their medical support - psych treatment, for when the fighting started, and there'd be injured, or... traumatised, who'd need care. They needed her, so she went. I didn't know," she added, absently. "Nobody could know, the Admirals wanted total confidentiality, so... she said it was a consultation job, that they needed an expert. Nothing to worry about." She chuckled, with little humour. "You can imagine how it was when the news leaked, about the Flotilla and the geth - but by then the Reapers were here anyway. They had a way of putting things into perspective, and... Ana had promised she'd be back. That was all I needed, really. And she did, she came home to me, even while Illium was still under siege. Attached the ship - I insisted she borrow my runabout for the trip, at the start - to one of the relief convoys running the blockade."

The touch of awe was in her voice, and visible on her face. She knew she'd have done the same had their situations been reversed, but it didn't make it any less humbling to think of Ana leaving Rannoch - ironically, once the quarians and geth had reached an accord, one of the most secure systems in the galaxy - to come to a world in the midst of a Reaper invasion.

"She was injured, though," she went on. "During the fighting with the geth - when it went badly, and there were no 'safe' ships. She was caught in an explosion, she was... Goddess praise the medics who saved her, but there was no undoing the scarring, and she lost her eyes." She took a deep breath, then shook her head. "That isn't it - she was beautiful, and her eyes were... magic... but she is beautiful, she always will be. It's the effect it's had that's the issue, on our sex life."

She paused a moment, finding the proper phrasing - Mirala was no child, but explicit details weren't really what was relevant to the discussion.

"Her sexual appetite," she began, "is... was, considerable. Remarkable even, and it's me saying so, so you get the idea. We meld - which is mindblowing, pardon the pun - but the physical side is very important to both of us. We were very compatible in that regard - like her I'm, uh... let's say 'boundless' isn't too much of an exaggeration. I do what I do, as a career, out of passion for the 'work'. That didn't used to be a problem - she told me, when we were first talking about living together, that she had no intention of asking me to give up my work, and she was true to that. If there was ever any small tension to do with me having sex with clients, it was easily washed away by our making love, the intensity of it... I think it was a constant reminder to her that what we shared was something I felt with nobody else - no matter how enjoyable work was. That assurance was enough for us to be as content as we both could wish for, I think."

She sighed again, looking slightly forlorn.

"And now, we don't have that," she resumed. "With her injuries she... she can't think of herself as physically attractive, and moreover the medication she has to take doesn't leave her with a lot of energy. She sleeps a lot - and then, sometimes when she wants to sleep, it eludes her. Her body just isn't up to performing the way she wants to - she's an energetic lover, and that's putting it mildly. And when it comes to me, she... I get the feeling she's torn. On the one hand - and the stronger impulse in her, of the two - she wants me to be happy. She encouraged me to continue working as an escort as well, when we acquired Envirometrics. She's even... not said as much to me, but there have been some occasions when she's felt perhaps I might be open to the possibility of a sexual relationship, outside of work, with other people I know, and she's never said a word against the idea, or tried to discourage me in any way. It's not going to happen," she said quietly, but certainly, "but part of her thinks that would be a preferable option. That I have needs, and if she can't satisfy them, it's best that I have other options. And on the other hand, that thought is painful for her - how couldn't it be? She'd allow me to, I suppose, 'sleep around' anyway, but it'd hurt her - it hurts her even though I don't, just believing that I should, that she's... not enough."

She sat on the arm of the suite's lounge, looking somehow deflated, and she swallowed once before speaking again.

"It's not all we have," she said quietly. "There's much more to our relationship, and so much of it is good - still is, even now. But this is something I... I feel a gap between us, things unsaid, that's causing pain, and even though we can't just fix it by going back to how things were, I want to... help, heal, something. But it's something that hurts - both of us - and trying to address it, to discuss it between us, without a clear mind could just make things worse."

"Hmm."
Mirala steepled her fingers, tapping them together as she thought.
"As far as the physical aspect of your relationship goes, there are... techniques one can learn that may help - some of which even turn up in the unabridged Lorv Siari Qenera, would you believe - which rely on the fact that during a meld, your nervous system is also hers. The asari partner takes a much more active role, and as a result it can be rather difficult, even exhausting; but I'll forward some information on it if you'd like."
The matriarch couldn't help but smirk as another memory surfaced, that of her second bondmate's rather interesting reaction to her first attempt at such an exercise.

"Regarding the emotional side, it seems to me what you need to do is figure out what exactly it is you both want. "Happiness", while obviously a necessity, is rather a nebulous concept - there must be something tangible, definable, that you can aim for. Once you've done that - which is the hard part, I'm afraid - all that remains is to find a way to achieve it. Together."

"I know some of them," Daia nodded, thinking of the techniques Mirala was suggesting. "Although, Lorv Siari Qenera, really? That I did not know - we only went through the standard abridged version at the Academy. Obviously a glaring oversight, although," she chuckled, "I suppose it depends on what you're trying to learn." She looked warmly at Mirala. "I'd be very grateful for anything you could send. It's refreshing to be reminded the galaxy's too big to run out of surprises, even for someone like me who's, uh, specialised."

Her expression sobered as she processed the Matriarch's advice on the emotional side of her problem, although again she found herself nodding - the wisdom couldn't be denied.

"It will be the hard part," she agreed. "If there were a practical resolution... I'd give up escorting for her, in a heartbeat," she went on. The loss such a sacrifice would entail for her was written plainly on her face - if Mirala found it odd for someone to be so passionate about, ultimately, having sex for a living, well, Daia was what she was - but she didn't hesitate. "It would be out of the rapids and onto the rocks, though. She'd... hate herself, if it came to that." She shook her head. "I wish that didn't sound so self-justifying, but I think it's true. She knows what it's like to have to leave a career - not just that, a calling - behind. She'd never ask that, she'd never accept it."

She leaned back against the wall behind the couch, and let out a sigh.

"Something to aim for," she echoed Mirala. "It... is pleasing, to see a path there. Even if the first step is a doozy," she chuckled, despite the mood, "it's a help, to think of it as part of a larger process. We can achieve it - whatever it turns out to be. I believe that."

"I know you can," Mirala smiled again, leaning forward, "and I'm not just saying that. It's in your eyes, your face, your posture; you want this. And of course I'll forward everything I've got to you; even if you've seen half of it before, better to make sure, hmm?"
The tapping of the matriarch's fingers on her desk was just barely audible over the comm.
"I suppose all that remains now it to figure out what exactly you need to say to Ana. Would you like to make a little skeleton script, or would you prefer to simply improvise? There are advantages to both."

"I do want this," Daia agreed quietly. "More than anything." She glanced up at Mirala's image, and smiled faintly. "It's a comfort that you see it too, though. 'We see ourselves most clearly through others'," she quoted, from one of her long-ago personal philosophy courses that had stuck in her memory.

She sat forward a little, pondering the options the Matriarch suggested.

"Probably a little from column A, a little from column B," she grinned slightly, using a human catchphrase she had picked up. "I tend to try not to plan too rigidly... although the temptation is there. Approaching this completely in the moment would be... well," she shrugged, "I'm not sure I can be that wise on the spur of the moment, and Ana deserves my best. But I'm reminded of what my father taught me: you never know what your opponent will do, so concentrate on what you are, and meet what comes.' Sparring," she explained - her voice had unconsciously taken on a slight vibration, subtly turian in its rhythm and tones, and now it returned to her usual Attena accent - "he taught me Viy Tora Kay when I was young. Ana's no 'opponent' of course, but the sentiment feels applicable. This is such a personal thing, so emotional, for both of us."

She thought a moment, then looked up.

"Perhaps simple is best," she suggested. "Goddess knows I've tried reassuring her often enough - maybe too often. I don't suffer from a deficit of optimism," she admitted with a fleeting grin. "I think there's a point where it must become tiring. This needs to be us talking, sharing this... process, not just me saying the right things to her."