continuing chapter ten, Buried in the Web
… devouring all in haste,
Till either gorge be stuff’d or prey be gone;
At his insistence, they spent the whole day outdoors, wandering fields or shady lanes, avoiding the temples but unable to shake the citadel and the danger to Daniel that lurked within it. At every turn he would catch a glimpse of it, sitting amid the sparkling sea like a siren on a rock.
Inevitably, the daylight waned, and with it built a dread of what the night would bring. Astarte was snuggled to his side as they sat under a canopy of lilacs, high on the cliff path. A soft susurration made him look around, and there was Ba'al, standing a few feet away, admiring the view as if he’d been there for hours. Daniel had thought the Nishta was weakening, but its effects returned in a jolting surge. He clutched at Astarte to stop the urge to fling himself at Ba'al’s feet.
“Darkness comes, Our love.”
Astarte sighed, pressed a kiss over Daniel’s heart and rose. “I bid my dearest fair eve. May the dawn’s new light speed you to my side, Mahhib.” She exchanged a passionate kiss with Ba'al and wandered off up the pathway.
Still staring out to sea, Ba'al addressed him. “Come, Adon. We must return home. Food and rest awaits Us.”
“And then what?”
“Then? Then We sleep. Our reward for a busy day.”
“I won’t let you put me in the sarcophagus again.”
“We have given Our word, Adon. We see no need to repeat Ourselves.”
“Daniel.”
“Adon.”
“I’m Daniel, dammit. Not some pretend god.”
Ba'al finally glanced at him, amusement fading into a hard stare. “And yet, you do not correct Our Lady. No. Come then, Daniel. We need Our bed, even if you do not.”
He pushed to his feet, hating the way the drug in his blood sent him to Ba'al’s side like a puppet. The transporter wrapped around them and deposited them in his suite. Food was laid out on a side table, warm sea air stirred the curtains, and in the distance thunder rumbled closer. Daniel stared at Ba'al’s solemn face, not even pulling away when the Goa'uld pressed their lips together and dosed him once again with Nishta.
The second day back on Tsydon followed the pattern of the first. With one exception. When he finally dragged his eyes from the door Ba'al had left by, Daniel found a small metal object sitting on his dinner plate.
Plopping onto the couch, he stared at it, possibly for hours, unwilling to touch it and confirm to his sinking heart that which he had always suspected.
In the early hours of the morning his fingers brushed the controls.
He sat, the miniature image of his body flickering amid the ignored dinner, his words designed to bring some comfort to his friends ringing hollowly in his ears.
“… this is Daniel Jackson, signing off. Bye.”
The deception fuelled an anger in him that he’d been unable to muster for his own sake.
Slowly, the anger burned through the fog that was his conscious state.
He began to plan.
The third day followed the second. Astarte’s amorous attentions increased, forcing him to refuse her, gently but sternly. When Ba'al left him that night - both ignoring the elephant in the room - Daniel forced himself to eat, then sat and examined the holo-recorder. The markings were in Goa'uld. Too easy. A flick of the switch and his message to the SGC was erased. Palming it, he went to the bath room, bathed, then under the hum of the dryers quietly recorded a new message.
Back in his room he pulled on a pair of pants and a loose shirt, tucked the recorder in the waistband and padded barefoot to the door.
Outside, his very own Rephaim guard stood to attention, surprised to see him in the depths of the night.
“I can’t sleep.” He smiled that deprecating smile that always made General Hammond cave and give him what he asked for. “I’d like to go for a walk.”
“Of course, Adon.” The one in charge was a tall, good-looking youngster. “May I suggest-”
“I’d just like to wander around, if that’s okay? Let my thoughts settle.” He headed off without waiting for a reply.
Like good little soldiers, they followed. His route was meandering, up and down empty echoing corridors, pausing sometimes to look at ponds or tapestries, retracing his steps here and there. Eventually he returned to his suite, nodded goodnight to the Rephaim, stripped off and curled up in bed.
Face pressed into the pillows, those he was sure were watching failed to see the fleeting smile as he recalled exactly how many people worked in the communications centre on the night shift.
The next night he faked restlessness and once again took his guard for a walk. He selected a different route, but covered most of the corridors travelled the previous night. Staff working in several offices acknowledged him as he wandered past.
Daniel gave thanks that working for a System Lord mean nothing was hidden, and doors were always open.
During the day, Astarte was becoming more possessive and he found himself giving in to her, bit by bit, spending more time closeted in her bedroom, lying by secluded shrines, her body would around his, teasingly refusing kiss after kiss.
The fourth night of his nocturnal wanderings Ba'al had questioned his restlessness, offering a sedative. Daniel let the Nishta guide his reassurances and Ba'al had left, happy that his guest was content.
Anger churned into hate. Three hours later, Daniel began his walk, the precious recorder pressed between his waistband and his skin.
It took an hour before his meandering brought him to the hallway where the comm centre lay. Keeping his pace slow and steady, he passed one, two, three doors. A slight angle in his direction, and he ambled through the fourth door, hands behind his back as if nothing were happening.
There were five people working at the consoles, several tele-balls active. Only one woman noticed him enter and she was engaged in a conversation through one of the balls. Expression bland, Daniel quickly found an empty, active console, slipped the recorder out, activated and inserted it in the right slot before he caught the sound of his guard approaching. Coordinates - carefully rehearsed from those memorised as part of his duty as a frontline unit member - came automatically to his fingertips. Entered,
“Adon?”
- hit Scramble,
“Adon….”
- hit Transmit,
“Can I assist, Adon?”
“You should not be here, Adon.”
- transmission complete. Eject recorder, drop it on the floor and smash it with a chair leg.
“Oh, sorry.” He smiled brilliantly at Ithm, Fourth Prime in command of his guard. “Must have got turned around. He pushed through the Rephaim and sauntered off down the corridor, accompanied by voices rising from the room behind and the hurried footsteps of the soldiers catching up.
Too easy.
He slammed the door on the reproachful glares of his escort and sank into a deep cushioned armchair. His hands clenched, trying to hide the shaking that was spreading through his body. Done. Mission accomplished. The message would be speeding through space, hitting first one receiver, then another, all down the line of carefully placed, hidden and scrambled Tok’ra relays until arriving at its destination - the SGC’s Alpha Site. How long it would take in real time he wasn’t sure, but he had every faith that the system set up to aid stranded SG units would eventually deliver his message to Jack and General Hammond.
It was all over bar the shouting.
He didn’t have to wait long.
… devouring all in haste,
Till either gorge be stuff’d or prey be gone;
The door snicked closed behind Ba'al. Daniel didn’t move, didn’t rise, even though the Nishta demanded he did.
“We are disappointed, Daniel.”
Booted feet strode through the deep pile of the carpets, bringing Ba'al to stand directly behind his chair.
“We gave you such trust, such freedom, and you repay Us with deception.”
A laugh of disbelief gusted out his mouth before he could stop it. “You don’t know the meaning of trust. I trusted you to send that message. Since that was obviously beyond your capabilities, I did it myself.”
Ba'al struck with lighting speed, wrapped his hand around Daniel’s throat and hauled him up and back. Feet scrabbling for purchase, Daniel ineffectually clawed at the hand, his nails leaving scrapes and cuts that didn’t faze Ba'al at all. The hand tightened, cutting off his air, pressing his head painfully against the Goa'uld’s belt buckle.
“We have done all in Our power to persuade you of Our motivations. Yet none of it has convinced you.”
Black spots were exploding in Daniel’s vision. He gasped and gagged, shoving against the seat to relieve the vice on his throat.
“You see Us as only a mindless automaton of evil. Perhaps then we shall act accordingly.”
Ba'al dug his fingers under Daniel’s jaw and hauled, pulling his body up and over the chair back and flung him down on the white rug. The hold on his throat gone, all Daniel could do was suck in desperate lungfuls of air, and cough and retch it back out.
“You have seen how the Goa'uld desire a beautiful face and body. No doubt you see Us as an animal, unable to control its base urges. So be it.” He dropped to his knees, leather clad legs either side of Daniel’s hips, pinning him in place.
Eyes widening in alarm, Daniel tried to fend him off as first his glasses were taken and flung away, then his shirt was ripped open. His abused throat failed to emit more than a gurgle of protest. He twisted to one side, kicking and punching wildly, but Ba'al merely tore his shirt up the back and yanked the shredded remains away. A hand in his hair jerked his head around so far that his shoulders followed and he was flat on his back again. Ba'al’s eyes were wild, hot flashes of white drowning the host’s brown. His hands gripped the waist of Daniel’s linen pants, the flimsy things no barrier to what he could see coming.
“Don’t. Please-” he croaked. He wasn’t about to apologise for what he’d done though. Ba'al-”
Ba'al snarled and the strength of the Goa'uld tore the pants in two. Moving to one side he pulled them off Daniel’s legs so violently the carpet burned his skin as he was dragged with them. Desperate, he flipped over and scrabbled away, but got only as far as the coffee table before Ba'al grabbed an ankle and turned him over again. The contents of the table clattered to the floor, and Daniel grasped the little pottery dish, given to him on his first day on Tsydon, and swung it into the side of Ba'al’s head. It shattered but had no effect, and Ba'al twisted his fingers to breaking point, making him drop the remains.
The Goa'uld placed his hands on Daniel’s hips, the grip bruising and holding him still. Both of them were panting, Ba'al half-crazed, Daniel distressed, searching for the right words to get him out of this.
“What say you, Adon? Shall we sample this delightful body of yours?” His fingers clenched, way too close to Daniel’s shrinking manhood.
“Please,” he whispered. “I’m sorry you’re angry, but please, don’t take it out on me like this. Yes, I deceived you, but… you deceived me.” Oh, that was not the right way to say that.
“Do not be sorry, Daniel. You have merely reminded Us that We are descendants of evil, and therefore We hold no blame if We revert to behaviour long held in contempt. We shall take what We want of you. Because We can.”
“No!” He kicked and wriggled and hit out with every piece of training and strength he had, but the force of the Goa'uld was overwhelming.
Eyes continually white now, Ba'al fended off his blows with ease. “We grow tired of this battle,” he growled. In one crushing grip he took hold of Daniel’s genitals and squeezed.
Daniel howled, back arching, hands falling limp as agony coursed through him. “You son of a bitch, parasite….” He could only curse hoarsely as Ba'al picked him up and flung him through the air. He cried out as he landed face down on the bed, bouncing to a shuddering halt. Stunned he tried to crawl away, but Ba'al was there, one hand pinning his neck, the other dragging his legs apart.
Breath sobbed through his tortured throat. Daniel tried gamely to pull himself together, prepare for the coming assault. You can survive this. Jack’s always said you can survive anything they do to you. Just… go away… be somewhere else… live to fight another day.
If Ba'al pressed any harder on his neck, he’d pass out. Good. He reached for the beckoning darkness, blotting out the Goa'uld’s touch on his naked skin, the clink of his belt, the hands on his ass. His face mashed into the silk covers, breath choking in gasps, he tried to turn his thoughts off and waited for it to end.
And waited… for it to start.
The hand on his neck shifted to his hair, painfully hauling his head out of the smothering quilts. Bent backwards like a bow, it was no easier to breathe. Daniel tried to get his hands under him. He jumped as Ba'al’s angry voice hissed in his ear.
“Such ease… such ease to take Our pleasure from this body. Ah, Daniel, you lead Us down the path of Our own destruction. We could do this and never regret the action. But We would be breaking a promise to one We hold dearer than Our life. We will not let you do that to Us.” He released Daniel’s hair with a shove that collapsed him back onto the bed.
Before he could look up, the silk cover engulfed him. Ba'al rolled him so tightly in the material he could hardly move, his hands were crushed into his ribs and his aching groin was trapped between his legs. Then the world tilted as Ba'al threw him over his shoulder. There was a jolt of displacement, then he was falling, met by a hard floor that bruised everything that wasn’t already bruised.
Ba'al’s feet thudded away from him.
Dazed and hurting, Daniel lay cocooned until exhaustion finally relieved his misery.
What follows more she murders with a kiss.
Sleep gave gentle ground to a fuddled half-waking. Sounds, an indeterminate echo of music, teased at his ears and drew his senses into working order. Daniel shifted, sighed. Memory of his last conscious experience returned in confused flashes.
Dream. Bad dream… Message. Got the message out… Ba'al….
Snatches of pain and panic darted past his closed eyes. Of its own volition his hand reached down and felt his penis and scrotum. Relief swept through him in a primal surge. Intact. And not hurting. Surprise brought his eyes open. He was no longer swaddled in the covering from his bed. He lay on Astarte’s bed, swaths of red anemones suspended from the high ceiling nodded over his head in the soft brush of warm air. His chest was bare but someone had at least wrapped his hips in a sarong.
Daniel swallowed, expecting pain from Ba'al’s choking grip, but there was none. In fact, he couldn’t feel any trace of Ba'al’s attack on his body. Oh, I hope that was just a healing device. Just the memory of violence remained and that drove him off the bed and across the room. The large doors were sealed and he turned away from them, frustrated and uncertain. Now what?
A table by the bed was set with food and drinks. He filled a goblet with cold water and downed it in one gulp.
“Mahhib!”
He jumped at Astarte’s exclamation, the goblet slipped from his hands and shattered on the floor.
“You wake! I sat by you for hours watching your dreams and now you have denied me the joy of your waking moments.” She came up behind him, wrapped her arms around his chest and pressed kisses into his shoulder blades.
“Don’t!” The memories of last night were too close. He jerked out of her grip and strode to the doors. A hard shove on them told him they were locked. “Can we go outside, Astarte? You said there were many more shrines to see.” He stayed facing the doors, tracing the pattern of the wood grain with his fingertips.
“Dearest Eshmun, we cannot.” She was close again; he could feel her warmth on his back.
“I’m not Eshmun,” he whispered.
Her breath ghosted over his skin, making him shiver. “No, my sweetling. But soon. My Lord promises soon you will return to me. To us.”
“I want to go outside.” As soon as he hit fresh air he would run and run, and they’d have to shoot him to stop him.
“My Lord forbids you to leave, my lettuce. Come, sit and share a kiss with me.”
“No!” He shook her off and sidled away, back pressed to the tapestry covering the wall.
A wrenching sob made him finally look at her. Tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. She was looking from side to side, as if lost. Her hands clutched at her hair, then pulled away, long dark strands ripped out by the roots in her distress. “Mahhib…,” she wailed. She flung herself at him, mouth wide and devouring him.
He fell back, head hitting the wall as she clutched at his face; her teeth scored his lips and cheeks, forcing him to close his eyes to protect them against her wild kisses.
Daniel finally grabbed her arms and shoved her away. “Get off me,” he gasped. “God, you’re both the same.”
Astarte stared at him, horrified and unable to focus on him. Her hands tore at the sheer fabric of her dress, and in seconds shredded red pieces were drifting to the floor, and bloody welts appeared on her skin. “My flesh is your flesh,” she mumbled, not even wincing at the wounds she made. “My blood is your blood.” She threw herself at him. “Made whole with a kiss.” Her mouth fastened over his, tongue pushing urgently inside him.
Bile rose in his gut. With a cry he shoved her away and sought shelter on the far side of the room. Astarte crumpled to the floor and lay motionless. Daniel braced himself by a chair, lungs heaving, battling to get himself under control. He fully expected her attendants to come running, but the minutes stretched by and no one came. Neither did Astarte move.
And at his look she flatly falleth down,
For looks kill love and love by looks reviveth;
If I’ve hurt her, he really will…. Crap.
He called her name, then shuffled slowly nearer. “Astarte.” Dropping to one knee he touched her shoulder. Nothing. He pushed her over onto her back and reared up in surprise. Here eyes were wide open, moving as she drank in the sight of him, but her mouth was closed and her chest didn’t move - she was conscious but not breathing.
“Are - are you alright?”
She stared. Blinked. Failed to breathe.
“You have to breathe.” Surely even Goa'uld needed air to live. Maybe she’d swallowed her tongue. He pried her mouth open and she smiled at him. Completely unnerved, he began to get up. “I’ll go get help….”
Her hand caught his and gently pulled it to her lips. She pressed a soft kiss to his palm, then gazed up at him again, her meaning quite clear: heal me with a kiss or let me die.
You are insane. Ba'al deserves everything you throw at him.
The thought of Ba'al in an unforgivable rage had him back on his knees. He scooped her up and gently laid her on the bed. Hesitant and trying not to show his revulsion, he pressed his lips to hers in the lightest of kisses.
Like an evil caricature of Sleeping Beauty, she wheezed back to life. “Lay by my side, dearest.” She sunk her nails into his wrist and pulled him down next to her.
Daniel complied, unwilling to risk another, more deadly scene.
“Irshyt, my desire. Without you I cease this existence.”
Literally, it seemed. She rolled onto her side, gently tracing the planes of his face. “Forgive me for frightening you. My passion is too great for my heart, sometimes. Stay!” She aborted his attempt to roll away. “Be at ease, dear Eshmun. Do you not remember your daylight home?”
“Actually, no. No, I don’t.” Seizing an opportunity to divert her, he settled on his side, face inches from hers. “I don’t remember. Can you tell me, Astarte? Tell me about my life before. What happened to me?”
“Oh, my honeyman. You were our greatest joy, my Lord and I.” She brought his hand to her mouth, punctuating her words with kisses to his fingers. “Never before had we created such life. My Lord gave me his code of life and I bore you in this body, watched you swell and emerge from me in the pleasure of birth-pain.”
Daniel stared at her. “You’re talking about a human child - you and Ba'al created a human child.” His flesh creeped at the thought. Harcesis. Two hosts creating a human with all their Goa'uld knowledge.
“Your beauty was unparalleled, dearest. From naked babe to manhood, all others paled in your shadow.” She laughed, caught up in the memory. “How we longed to take you to our bed, but my Lord insisted you must mature first. So we waited those long fifteen seasons. Then finally, on the day of your birth, I took you into my bower. Such sweet loving I never had known, and then my Lord Ba'al came to our loving. The passion we three shared! My fondling.” She peppered his hand with kisses, sucking in each finger with remembered ecstasy.
Daniel held still, struggling to keep his face clear of the reaction seething through him at the thought of a boy, bred by monsters for the purpose of their own pleasure. “I thought it was forbidden to give birth to a Harcesis?”
“Pfft, what use do we have for the superstitions of our kind? I loved my child, as did my Lord Ba'al, and our Eshmun lived for our love. We were so happy.”
“What happened to him?”
“You went away, love. You were only human and my Lord said a human could not withstand the power of our love.” She broke off, tears once again streaming down her cheeks. “The grief of your passing was unendurable. Even the touch of my Lord could not erase my yearning for you. My Lord said you did but sleep, and it was true! As new life returned to the land and the anemones bloomed, you rose from your sleep. Such joy!” She laughed and flung her arms around him, hugging him fiercely. “All the people of our city celebrated your return to me. The pleasures we shared that day - oh, you must remember, Irshyt!
“That season rang with our joy. We took our pleasure in every field and stream, garden and pond. Every hour the blessed sun shone we twined together and knew every intimacy. When the sun passed, so did you pass on to my Lord. The hours of the night gave him his pleasure with you. Touched by starlight he would lay you in the golden sand, on the altar of his temple, in the depths of his bed. Under my prideful gaze, my Lord shared your loving until it was time for the light to rise and send you back to me.”
Daniel stared at the curtains over the bed, thoughts churning. The harcesis must have fallen ill. Ba'al put him in the sarcophagus, then they….
“Our joy lasted until the leaves fell from the trees, and you returned to your sleep. You blessed our land with your gift, then slept until the new buds heralded your rise once more.”
A human child, bred into incestuous love, sickening and healed over and over again, made into one of the rising and dying gods of Earth’s mythology.
“How long-“ he coughed. “How long did he, I, live like that?”
“What is time to me, youngling? A year, a millennia, it is all the same when you are near.”
“But it didn’t last.”
“No.” Her voice darkened. “One day my Lord said you must sleep for a long time. He said I must put you away from my heart, but such a thing is impossible. I held you close to me, and sure as the red flowers bloomed from your blood, you have returned to me, my most beloved Eshmun.”
“Until the darkness takes me away.”
She leant over and smothered him with a kiss.
“Yes.”
O, thou didst kill me: kill me once again:
?
Quotes from Venus and Adonis, by William Shakespeare