fic: "Left Behind" [Pt.4]
Aug. 8th, 2008 11:02 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
renisanzTitle: Left Behind – Chapter 4
Author: renisanz
Summary: Many questions arise when Ronon brings an mysterious young woman to Atlantis. There are no easy answers. A sequel to “Leather” and “Let Go.”
Category: Angst/Drama/Mystery/Romance
Rating: PG-13
Words: ~1,100
Warnings: This isn't a happy chapter.
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, but they're fun to play. Seraih and Andri belong to me, though.
Notes: This story contains some spoilers for Season 4. Story is set sometime during Season 4, after “Quarantine.” Teyla's not pregnant, but the Athosians are still missing.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Author: renisanz
Summary: Many questions arise when Ronon brings an mysterious young woman to Atlantis. There are no easy answers. A sequel to “Leather” and “Let Go.”
Category: Angst/Drama/Mystery/Romance
Rating: PG-13
Words: ~1,100
Warnings: This isn't a happy chapter.
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, but they're fun to play. Seraih and Andri belong to me, though.
Notes: This story contains some spoilers for Season 4. Story is set sometime during Season 4, after “Quarantine.” Teyla's not pregnant, but the Athosians are still missing.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Left Behind - Pt. 3
An overbearing silence hovered like an invisible mist over the empty streets. An all too familiar sense of dread coiled in Ronon's chest, around his heart. Teyla had assured him that the Wraith were gone, but there was still the strange presence that she had felt. They had found no survivors so far, which heightened Ronon's sense of urgency.
It was unusual for the Wraith to completely decimate a world that didn't pose an immediate threat or resistance. The inhabitants of Mira were more advanced than the Athosians, but not quite so much as Sateda. Though far from an ideal civilization, Mira was peaceful.
If she was still here, he would find her. He had promised.
He rounded the corner and emerged onto the street that led to Seraih's shop. Ronon was supposed to meet her there originally, so he figured that would be the logical place to start looking. There had been no forewarning of the impending culling. There would have been no time for her to flee into the cover of the forest. Despite her youth, Seraih would not have made it far in her condition.
Ronon remembered the day Seraih had told him of the secret bunker that had been dug underneath the shop. It was meant specifically as a place of refuge from cullings. Ronon's instincts had made him ask her to show him. Seraih led him to a corner of the room and indicated a spot on the floor covered by a large chest. It took him great effort to move it out of the way to reveal a barely visible trap door. A large rectangle of dust covered the perimeter of the area where the chest had been as it had not been moved in many years.
This neglect was dangerous, and he told Seraih so. Still the entrance to the bunker was well hidden. The handle to open the hatch was expertly hidden in the floor planks. After Seraih opened the door with a few expert turns of the latch, Ronon saw that the planks were staggered around the edges of dthe hatch to better blend into the floor pattern. This was good.
He let his eyes pass over the overturned vendor carts, trampled produce and flowers. Ronon had seen the aftermath of many cullings, but the scene before him rang of a more specific incident—how they had found the settlement on New Athos. He expected Teyla to notice it too, but when he turned to gauge her reaction, he discovered that she was no longer beside him.
Ronon turned around fully to see if she had darted into one of the buildings. He was surprised to see her several yards behind him, her hand resting heavily against the dark brick wall. Her head was down, but he could see her brow furrowed in concentration. . . pain.
“What is it?” he asked once at her side.
He watched as Teyla inhaled a short breath. She lifted her head to face him, but it was a moment more before her eyes opened. “The presence I felt. . .” she began.
“It's here?” Ronon urged, his fingers tightening around the handle of his gun.
Teyla nodded.
Ronon spun around, quickly surveying the street. They still appeared to be alone. He turned back to Teyla when he felt her hand clamp tightly around his forearm.
“I do not believe we are in danger,” she explained.
At Ronon's look of incredulity she went on, “I think. . .” Teyla squeezed her eyes shut and fell back against the wall. She was definitely in pain. “She is in great distress.”
“Who's in distress?” Ronon had little time to process the meaning of the Athosians words next words his eyes fell upon the blood as it trickled from Teyla's nose.
Seraih.
It had been her all along, and she had nearly killed Teyla, Ronon realized.
Once they were were all safely back on Atlantis, Jennifer had been able to stabilize Seraih's condition, as he had hoped the doctor would be. In the back of his mind he knew that Carter would give him hell about breaking security protocols by bringing a strange girl onto the base without prior clearance, but that was of little consequence. Ronon also knew that this wouldn't stop them from helping her, if they could.
The strange young girl with the eyes the clear blue of a summer sky who he had met in an alley those few years ago had changed so much since then. She had become a wife, was becoming a mother.
Now a widow.
Ronon knew that she want to know the fate of her husband once she was awake. He couldn't hide it from her. He had never been able to hide anything from her—he didn't ever want to. Still, Ronon couldn't make his voice work to utter what had happened to Andri.
“Andri is gone,” Ronon wished she's understand from those few words. But as he watched her brow crinkle in disbelief, heard the sharp intake of breath and felt the city tilt beneath his booted feet as she rested both hands protectively over the life inside her belly, he knew it wasn't enough.
It was the stillness in her eyes that undid him. Ronon looked to the floor as he dug his right hand into the pocket of his hands, fingers grazing and enclosing around the beaded object concealed within the folds.
She didn't say anything at first, only reached out, her slim fingers wrapping delicately around the thin, leather chord that held Andri's bonding pendant.
Ronon released his grip as Seraih pulled it from his hand, the cord tickling across his calloused fingers as she drew it across them and out of his grasp. He kept his eyes on Seraih's face, her eyes, though she wasn't looking at him now.
“He's . . .” she whispered, her voice thick with the tears that would soon come. “I don't. . .” she closed her eyes and the tears fell.
He took in the wetness on her dark lashes, the hint of color in her rising in her freckled cheeks as she fought the sea of emotions that had drowned so many. Ronon knew this pain; she was feeling it for the first time. He wished he could say something to make lessen the sting of emptiness, but nothing ever really did. So he said nothing.
He watched as Seraih raked her hands through the dark waves of her hair, a little longer than their first meeting, but still relatively short. Still wild and lovely.
“What happened to my world?”
TBC.
Left Behind - Pt. 5
. . . . . . . . . .
A/N: A very difficult chapter to write. Seriously. Thanks tosezjara for helping this story flow better. Thanks to everyone who's read and commented so far. :)
Feedback is much appreciated.
Left Behind - Pt. 3
An overbearing silence hovered like an invisible mist over the empty streets. An all too familiar sense of dread coiled in Ronon's chest, around his heart. Teyla had assured him that the Wraith were gone, but there was still the strange presence that she had felt. They had found no survivors so far, which heightened Ronon's sense of urgency.
It was unusual for the Wraith to completely decimate a world that didn't pose an immediate threat or resistance. The inhabitants of Mira were more advanced than the Athosians, but not quite so much as Sateda. Though far from an ideal civilization, Mira was peaceful.
If she was still here, he would find her. He had promised.
He rounded the corner and emerged onto the street that led to Seraih's shop. Ronon was supposed to meet her there originally, so he figured that would be the logical place to start looking. There had been no forewarning of the impending culling. There would have been no time for her to flee into the cover of the forest. Despite her youth, Seraih would not have made it far in her condition.
Ronon remembered the day Seraih had told him of the secret bunker that had been dug underneath the shop. It was meant specifically as a place of refuge from cullings. Ronon's instincts had made him ask her to show him. Seraih led him to a corner of the room and indicated a spot on the floor covered by a large chest. It took him great effort to move it out of the way to reveal a barely visible trap door. A large rectangle of dust covered the perimeter of the area where the chest had been as it had not been moved in many years.
This neglect was dangerous, and he told Seraih so. Still the entrance to the bunker was well hidden. The handle to open the hatch was expertly hidden in the floor planks. After Seraih opened the door with a few expert turns of the latch, Ronon saw that the planks were staggered around the edges of dthe hatch to better blend into the floor pattern. This was good.
He let his eyes pass over the overturned vendor carts, trampled produce and flowers. Ronon had seen the aftermath of many cullings, but the scene before him rang of a more specific incident—how they had found the settlement on New Athos. He expected Teyla to notice it too, but when he turned to gauge her reaction, he discovered that she was no longer beside him.
Ronon turned around fully to see if she had darted into one of the buildings. He was surprised to see her several yards behind him, her hand resting heavily against the dark brick wall. Her head was down, but he could see her brow furrowed in concentration. . . pain.
“What is it?” he asked once at her side.
He watched as Teyla inhaled a short breath. She lifted her head to face him, but it was a moment more before her eyes opened. “The presence I felt. . .” she began.
“It's here?” Ronon urged, his fingers tightening around the handle of his gun.
Teyla nodded.
Ronon spun around, quickly surveying the street. They still appeared to be alone. He turned back to Teyla when he felt her hand clamp tightly around his forearm.
“I do not believe we are in danger,” she explained.
At Ronon's look of incredulity she went on, “I think. . .” Teyla squeezed her eyes shut and fell back against the wall. She was definitely in pain. “She is in great distress.”
“Who's in distress?” Ronon had little time to process the meaning of the Athosians words next words his eyes fell upon the blood as it trickled from Teyla's nose.
Seraih.
It had been her all along, and she had nearly killed Teyla, Ronon realized.
Once they were were all safely back on Atlantis, Jennifer had been able to stabilize Seraih's condition, as he had hoped the doctor would be. In the back of his mind he knew that Carter would give him hell about breaking security protocols by bringing a strange girl onto the base without prior clearance, but that was of little consequence. Ronon also knew that this wouldn't stop them from helping her, if they could.
The strange young girl with the eyes the clear blue of a summer sky who he had met in an alley those few years ago had changed so much since then. She had become a wife, was becoming a mother.
Now a widow.
Ronon knew that she want to know the fate of her husband once she was awake. He couldn't hide it from her. He had never been able to hide anything from her—he didn't ever want to. Still, Ronon couldn't make his voice work to utter what had happened to Andri.
“Andri is gone,” Ronon wished she's understand from those few words. But as he watched her brow crinkle in disbelief, heard the sharp intake of breath and felt the city tilt beneath his booted feet as she rested both hands protectively over the life inside her belly, he knew it wasn't enough.
It was the stillness in her eyes that undid him. Ronon looked to the floor as he dug his right hand into the pocket of his hands, fingers grazing and enclosing around the beaded object concealed within the folds.
She didn't say anything at first, only reached out, her slim fingers wrapping delicately around the thin, leather chord that held Andri's bonding pendant.
Ronon released his grip as Seraih pulled it from his hand, the cord tickling across his calloused fingers as she drew it across them and out of his grasp. He kept his eyes on Seraih's face, her eyes, though she wasn't looking at him now.
“He's . . .” she whispered, her voice thick with the tears that would soon come. “I don't. . .” she closed her eyes and the tears fell.
He took in the wetness on her dark lashes, the hint of color in her rising in her freckled cheeks as she fought the sea of emotions that had drowned so many. Ronon knew this pain; she was feeling it for the first time. He wished he could say something to make lessen the sting of emptiness, but nothing ever really did. So he said nothing.
He watched as Seraih raked her hands through the dark waves of her hair, a little longer than their first meeting, but still relatively short. Still wild and lovely.
“What happened to my world?”
TBC.
Left Behind - Pt. 5
. . . . . . . . . .
A/N: A very difficult chapter to write. Seriously. Thanks to
sezjara for helping this story flow better. Thanks to everyone who's read and commented so far. :)Feedback is much appreciated.
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![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-08-11 03:52 am (UTC)No problem. I know you have a very busy schedule. I still really appreciate you taking time to beta this for me. :)
"I can really feel Seraih's despair, and Ronon's helplessness."
That's good to hear. It was really important for those feelings to get across.
"Why did the Wraith attack Mira, and what or who were they looking for? Was it Michael that led the attack? Why?"
That's a very good series of questions. . .
And Teyla's fine. Or she's going to be. I probably should have made that more clear.
Your questions aren't overwhelming at all. It actually helps me to know how this story is being perceived and if certain things I'm hinting at are getting across to the reader. :)
no subject
Date: 2008-08-11 08:18 am (UTC)You're quite welcome. Anytime you need my help just let me know.
Some of those questions came to me as I was reading through it earlier today, actually...
Okay, I promise, I'm going to bed now...
:)