Work Text:
Apple blossoms
Shepard grinned, squinting his eyes slyly and glancing at Tali. You could tell from the expression on the quarian face that she was quite puzzled; the furrowed, thin black eyebrows produced many small early wrinkles that had accumulated on the bridge of her nose - how many times John had asked her not to frown, but the girl apparently could not overcome her habitual, automatic movements.
If you look into her face, study every line of it, every cell of her skin, you can understand that it was beautiful. The overall impression was somewhat different. It took the captain a long time to get used to her appearance after she finally took off the mask and breathed ordinary air, but when he finally succeeded, he came to the realization that there was no one more beautiful in the world than her.
Now she was standing beside him, looking out over the apple orchard, where they had come for the first time-in the sense that they had come together. Before that, Shepard remembered the trees as young sprouts, and himself as a small, unexciting boy. Tali folded her arms behind her back and stretched her neck, trying to see in the disheveled malachite foliage even a hint of budding fruit, but all she could see were faint white flowers, glistening in the light like dewdrops.
- Flowers are practically apples," Shepard smiled; he was amused by the Quarian reaction to what he saw. He knew she would take it with interest-and how could she not, since Tali'Zorah had long ago begged the Captain to take her to Earth and show her Earth plants and fruits. He liked to rediscover what seemed familiar, unremarkable, and Tali helped him with that. Every time she was amazed, delighted, enthralled by what she saw, he fell in love with it all over again. And at the same time, he fell in love with his quarian again and again.
- Honestly, I like it better that way, without the apples," John shrugged. The Admiral immediately turned in his direction and raised her eyebrows questioningly. He hastened to explain, "There's a peculiar beauty about flowers. They are like chaste nymphs. When they're replaced by big fat satyrs on branches, the aesthetics evaporate.
Tali chuckled. She didn't think it was possible to think that way. That's why she loved Shepard - his out-of-the-box thinking and boldness in speaking out.
- When summer comes, the fruit will be ripe," the captain assured her and put his arm around her shoulders. The wind was hardly felt: it only occasionally reminded her of itself, gently ruffling the leaves or amusing herself by playing with Talie short, pitch-black hair. The sun stroked and caressed the emerald-green curls with its velvety rays, and they sparkled and shimmered like scattered pearl beads. There was an unwavering silence, and they stood embraced, afraid to break the silence even for a moment. The weather was surprisingly warm - usually in these months Vancouver is covered by unfriendly clouds, and the city falls into a sort of vague rainy slumber with occasional glimpses of clear light, but this time, back at home, Shepard was welcomed rather hospitably. The land was clearly awaiting the return of its savior. And it had only been a few years since the end of the war and the land had almost recovered. It had been so long since he'd come back.
But no, even with all the mundanity of building a house on Rannoch and fixing it up, John never stopped thinking of his home, where he had been born, nurtured, and raised, like the trees he and his mother had planted years ago. He had long cherished the dream of showing his home to his beloved, his Tali, and he was sure that she would love it too.
- Shepherd, it's beautiful here. It still doesn't compare to the stunning scenery of Rannoch, but I wouldn't mind living here.
Shepard chuckled back and only squeezed Tali tighter in his arms.
- You know, I would compare myself to an apple tree. You were able to breathe life into me, and I blossomed, found a halo of happiness, love, and warmth," she put her head on his shoulder and put her three-fingered hand around his back.
- I can't wait for you to bear fruit," the captain said, and they both laughed. His laugh was soft and juicy, like a ripe, ripe fruit; hers was tinkling and iridescent, like dewdrops glistening on apple blossoms.