kai-m-shepard:

“Primarch.”

Her posture echoed his own, driven by the formality of his tone, of his address. She tucked one hand into the other behind her back and spread her feet shoulder width apart—at ease. She inclined her head briefly at the address.

There was a fluctuation in his subvocals—hesitance, if she was reading his posture right. Spending time with Garrus had taught her to pick up on the more subtle tones of turian inflection and posture, but not all. She kept her expression neutral as he spoke and masked her surprise. 

“Of course, Primarch. I’d be happy to honor his memory.” She inclined her head once more, this time in respect. “He was a good soldier, and the world is less for his loss. It would be my honor to assist you.”

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       He appreciated the way she comported herself to show respect, soldier to soldier.  Adrien acknowledged the gravity she was lending to assuage the wounds of a tired old veteran, and he reflected again on how he was thankful that the war had, at least, brought them together as allies.  It was an honor and a pleasure to have worked alongside her, even if they had not always agreed.

      “Given that the Normandy is already docked in the Citadel, I’d like you to accompany me to my offices.  There, at least, I can raise a toast to my son’s name.  I’ve…kept a picture of him.  It’s the only one I have." 

      Avian eyes flickered over her, taking in her alien features, her stance.  "Thirty years ago, you would have been my enemy.  Not even five years ago, my people continued to view your race with suspicion and contempt.  Today we may walk together in good accord and think nothing of it.  The union between our species has been healed because of you.  I cannot ever pay you back for that.”

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HW