You had to pick Samara. I love her dearly but I have never ever written her before. And she’s as harder than Thane to write. Ugh.
Samara could not make it to Shepard’s funeral. Falere could not be left alone. She could not be taken. But Samara knew she was not the only one that would not make it to the funeral. The Justicar stared up at the black abyss that peaked through the clouds. Legs crossed and hands twisted into the ceremonial position, she prayed. Samara was not only praying for Commander Shepard, but that the war torn world would have to continue without her. Samara said the old words, chanted what was needed for the Commander, and when her eyes snapped open she felt the pulse of her biotics disperse.
A second pulse alerted the Justicar to her daughter. Samara did not move as she stared upwards. The clouds were coming in, the black disappearing to the storm. Falare made her way over, standing beside her. “Mother,” she said quietly. Samara leaned her head towards her. “She is with the Goddess now.”
Samara hummed in thought. “The Goddess had always been with her,” Samara whispered as the sky rumbled, roaring as Shepard was laid to rest on a planet so far away. “But now She is done sharing Shepard and has taken her back.”
Falare nodded as the rain began to fall, taking a moment of silence. “A human, claimed by all species, who saved all species, who died, twice, before she could see what came of all the blood she shed.” The sky wailed in response as Samara closed her eyes, letting her head fall back to face the rain.