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Working title: A path through the blizzard (Part 2)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
starrylizard
Characters: Beckett, Weir
Rating: This part Teen, for other warnings see Part 1
Author notes: Thanks torinkle for beta-reading.
Rodney sat on the ground, wires trailing between his laptop and the ZPM. The look on his face said it all. “How can it be completely depleted, Rodney?” Sheppard sounded tired when he spoke; they were all tired. Rodney just stared between the useless ZPM and his laptop display, his expression one of utter disbelief, mixed with sadness and betrayal.
They came again, just as the first light of morning had begun to creep in through the bars of their cell. Elizabeth struggled to her feet, wincing when she mistakenly jostled the abused muscles and tendons of her injured shoulder. Carson discreetly helped her to her feet, as they both turned to face the men that approached the door.
Elizabeth had dozed fitfully during the night, leaning up against Carson as they both shared his jacket for a pillow. He’d woken her gently, but insistently every few hours throughout the night, asking her questions and checking for any sign of concussion from the blow she’d taken to the head. She didn’t think he’d slept at all.
There were more men this time and they came with a tall stranger: a man who was dressed very differently from the local villagers. The new man carried a heavy fur coat and wore warm-looking leather pants, a long-sleeved shirt and fur-lined boots. His long blonde hair hung down limply to frame his lean face and he looked hot and uncomfortable in the tropical heat of this world, his face flushed and sweaty.
“You promised us a third. Where is the scientist?” the stranger asked, and the village leader shifted behind him, looking nervous. “There was an accident, as I have already explained. The scientist is no longer with us, but we got you both the healer and the one that speaks Ancient, surely they are enough to secure our agreement.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Elizabeth saw Carson freeze and then take a deep breath, his face a picture of deepest sorrow. Elizabeth only managed to maintain a neutral expression though sheer will-power. The scientist is no longer with us. The words replayed over and over again in her mind, accompanied by the solitary scream they had heard the night before. Her heart seemed to die a little, another small piece of hope floating away as she came to the most logical conclusion available to her. She pushed the thought aside - He could be alive. He might have escaped. She didn’t have all the facts. But there was an sharp ache in the pit of her stomach at the thought that Rodney could be dead. The strange little scientist had long ago wheedled his way under her barriers and become more than a co-worker; he was a dear friend. With a mental shake, she tried instead to concentrate on the rest of what the man was saying.
“We will honour the agreement, but My Liege will not be happy. Bring them.” The man clicked his fingers and gestured imperiously, waiting impatiently as the village men opened the cell. They tied her to Carson with short lengths of rope at the wrist and ankle and then prodded them until they began to walk from the cell.
Even after the treatment of the previous night, this was too much for Elizabeth. She couldn’t remain quiet. Deciding a direct question was the smartest approach, she looked directly at the newcomer, eyes never wavering as she asked, “Where are you taking us?”
Surprisingly the man didn’t look annoyed or startled. He answered the question without hesitation. “You are now the property of His Royal Highness, King Dukat of Telesia. You will work for us now. If His Highness is pleased with your services, you will be treated well. If not…” He left the rest of the sentence hanging, waving once more for the others to follow.
Elizabeth felt her heart quicken as her eyes narrowed in anger. This could not be happening. She had not only messed up a negotiation (one which she had insisted was too important for anyone else to take on) and been swindled into trading for faulty goods, but apparently she’d marched her command team into capture, slavery and maybe even death.
She stopped, refusing to walk, even though she was prodded none too gently by one of the village men. She spoke calmly and clearly, her voice indignant. “I am sorry, but you are mistaken. We belong to no one. We are free people…” She fell silent, as for the second time in her life she was backhanded across the face. Carson somehow caught her, righting her before she could fall to the ground.
Elizabeth straightened herself stoically, using her hand to ground herself on Carson’s solid form. Her shoulder throbbed from the sudden movement and her face, where it had been struck, felt like it was on fire. Her eyes teared up involuntarily, though she blinked it away, shaking her head to clear her vision.
“You have much to learn, woman. I hope you will show more restraint in front of the King. He will not take kindly to such stupidity,” snarled the man. He then turned to the villager who had hit her. “…and you; she is our property now. Do not damage the merchandise again, or this agreement is over.”
The villager was still apologising profusely, as they continued to walk the rest of the way to the Stargate and he didn’t stop until the man began dialling the gate. She watched with detached interest as the gate activated, the event horizon spilling forth in a giant blue wave and with it her mind seemed to be washed clear; her thoughts brought into the crystal clarity that comes before epiphany. Elizabeth carefully burnt each of the symbols of the gate address into her mind, silently going over them again and again until she was certain that she could not forget them. The thought occurred to her that Colonel Sheppard would be proud, assuming that he was still alive – she had to believe that he was still alive - and in that moment, she found her purpose again.
She felt a steely resolve born of anger and humiliation wash over her and she let it fuel her mind and body. Next to her, she felt Carson take her hand, squeezing it none too gently. Turning she saw the same flash of anger in his brilliant blue eyes, though the look was tempered by concern and sorrow. She squeezed his hand back, taking comfort in the focused pain the tight grip caused her, and they both silently turned to face the event horizon, steadily walking toward whatever waited for them on the other side.
They would get out of this… or die trying.
Of that, Elizabeth Weir was certain.
TBC...
on to part 3
Comments and chocolate feed the bunnies. (Constructive criticism/corrections also welcome.)
Author:
starrylizardCharacters: Beckett, Weir
Rating: This part Teen, for other warnings see Part 1
Author notes: Thanks to
rinkle for beta-reading. Rodney sat on the ground, wires trailing between his laptop and the ZPM. The look on his face said it all. “How can it be completely depleted, Rodney?” Sheppard sounded tired when he spoke; they were all tired. Rodney just stared between the useless ZPM and his laptop display, his expression one of utter disbelief, mixed with sadness and betrayal.
They came again, just as the first light of morning had begun to creep in through the bars of their cell. Elizabeth struggled to her feet, wincing when she mistakenly jostled the abused muscles and tendons of her injured shoulder. Carson discreetly helped her to her feet, as they both turned to face the men that approached the door.
Elizabeth had dozed fitfully during the night, leaning up against Carson as they both shared his jacket for a pillow. He’d woken her gently, but insistently every few hours throughout the night, asking her questions and checking for any sign of concussion from the blow she’d taken to the head. She didn’t think he’d slept at all.
There were more men this time and they came with a tall stranger: a man who was dressed very differently from the local villagers. The new man carried a heavy fur coat and wore warm-looking leather pants, a long-sleeved shirt and fur-lined boots. His long blonde hair hung down limply to frame his lean face and he looked hot and uncomfortable in the tropical heat of this world, his face flushed and sweaty.
“You promised us a third. Where is the scientist?” the stranger asked, and the village leader shifted behind him, looking nervous. “There was an accident, as I have already explained. The scientist is no longer with us, but we got you both the healer and the one that speaks Ancient, surely they are enough to secure our agreement.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Elizabeth saw Carson freeze and then take a deep breath, his face a picture of deepest sorrow. Elizabeth only managed to maintain a neutral expression though sheer will-power. The scientist is no longer with us. The words replayed over and over again in her mind, accompanied by the solitary scream they had heard the night before. Her heart seemed to die a little, another small piece of hope floating away as she came to the most logical conclusion available to her. She pushed the thought aside - He could be alive. He might have escaped. She didn’t have all the facts. But there was an sharp ache in the pit of her stomach at the thought that Rodney could be dead. The strange little scientist had long ago wheedled his way under her barriers and become more than a co-worker; he was a dear friend. With a mental shake, she tried instead to concentrate on the rest of what the man was saying.
“We will honour the agreement, but My Liege will not be happy. Bring them.” The man clicked his fingers and gestured imperiously, waiting impatiently as the village men opened the cell. They tied her to Carson with short lengths of rope at the wrist and ankle and then prodded them until they began to walk from the cell.
Even after the treatment of the previous night, this was too much for Elizabeth. She couldn’t remain quiet. Deciding a direct question was the smartest approach, she looked directly at the newcomer, eyes never wavering as she asked, “Where are you taking us?”
Surprisingly the man didn’t look annoyed or startled. He answered the question without hesitation. “You are now the property of His Royal Highness, King Dukat of Telesia. You will work for us now. If His Highness is pleased with your services, you will be treated well. If not…” He left the rest of the sentence hanging, waving once more for the others to follow.
Elizabeth felt her heart quicken as her eyes narrowed in anger. This could not be happening. She had not only messed up a negotiation (one which she had insisted was too important for anyone else to take on) and been swindled into trading for faulty goods, but apparently she’d marched her command team into capture, slavery and maybe even death.
She stopped, refusing to walk, even though she was prodded none too gently by one of the village men. She spoke calmly and clearly, her voice indignant. “I am sorry, but you are mistaken. We belong to no one. We are free people…” She fell silent, as for the second time in her life she was backhanded across the face. Carson somehow caught her, righting her before she could fall to the ground.
Elizabeth straightened herself stoically, using her hand to ground herself on Carson’s solid form. Her shoulder throbbed from the sudden movement and her face, where it had been struck, felt like it was on fire. Her eyes teared up involuntarily, though she blinked it away, shaking her head to clear her vision.
“You have much to learn, woman. I hope you will show more restraint in front of the King. He will not take kindly to such stupidity,” snarled the man. He then turned to the villager who had hit her. “…and you; she is our property now. Do not damage the merchandise again, or this agreement is over.”
The villager was still apologising profusely, as they continued to walk the rest of the way to the Stargate and he didn’t stop until the man began dialling the gate. She watched with detached interest as the gate activated, the event horizon spilling forth in a giant blue wave and with it her mind seemed to be washed clear; her thoughts brought into the crystal clarity that comes before epiphany. Elizabeth carefully burnt each of the symbols of the gate address into her mind, silently going over them again and again until she was certain that she could not forget them. The thought occurred to her that Colonel Sheppard would be proud, assuming that he was still alive – she had to believe that he was still alive - and in that moment, she found her purpose again.
She felt a steely resolve born of anger and humiliation wash over her and she let it fuel her mind and body. Next to her, she felt Carson take her hand, squeezing it none too gently. Turning she saw the same flash of anger in his brilliant blue eyes, though the look was tempered by concern and sorrow. She squeezed his hand back, taking comfort in the focused pain the tight grip caused her, and they both silently turned to face the event horizon, steadily walking toward whatever waited for them on the other side.
They would get out of this… or die trying.
Of that, Elizabeth Weir was certain.
TBC...
on to part 3
Comments and chocolate feed the bunnies. (Constructive criticism/corrections also welcome.)
