Burdens of Leadership [SGA, Teyla Emmagan/Samantha Carter, PG-13]
And I even managed to post it on the right day this time!
Title: Burdens of Leadership
Genre: SGA, Teyla Emmagen/Samantha Carter, hint of femslash
Season/Spoilers: Early SGA Season 4, General knowledge of SG-1
Rating: PG-13
Synopsis: “This is not exactly the way I thought I’d be starting out this command.”
Prompt: Stargate: Atlantis, Teyla and Sam: amazons and warrior women - "I always thought that cutting off a breast was a bit much"
Disclaimer: I don’t own them, people with a lot of money do. I’m just borrowing them to play and making no profit from this.
~~~~~~~~~~
"This is not exactly the way I thought I'd be starting out this command," Sam muttered, trying to reach one of the little leather ties one-handed.
Teyla took it from her and quickly knotted the armband into place with a smile. "You have been with us for nearly two cycles of the largest moon, you are hardly just starting out," she corrected. She left her hand on her arm, letting her skin warm the shivering commander. Unlike Sam, she seemed to barely feel the cold, radiating a comforting heat.
It was not that the Galasion planet was so cool, as much as it was that the inhabitants preferred to wear very little clothing. The women wore a sort of top that was a cross between a bra and a bodice and either a skirt or pants, and the men wore pants and occasionally a vest. For ceremonial or official functions, they seemed to require flashier versions of their everyday wear, and everyone involved was to wear what was offered if they were to participate. She was certain there was some story behind the tradition, and she was fairly certain she would hear about it before the day was over.
Carter turned to look at the Athosian, who was serving as her guide and assistant for this mission, but did not shrug away from the touch. "Still, I'm relatively new," she pointed out. "And I really did not expect to have to parade around half naked in front of people I'm still trying to make a good impression with."
Teyla's hand slid down her skin to rest on the soft leather gauntlet she wore. With quick, efficient movements, she undid the messy knot work and retied it in the correct manner. "Are you truly so concerned about what they think of you?" she asked.
"No," Sam answered quickly. She saw the look she was getting and lowered her head with a sigh. "Yes," she corrected.
"Why?" Teyla inquired, shifting over to her other arm and repeating the process. "You have led people before, have you not? Would you be so concerned around those?"
Sam bit her lip before answering, "That was different." She had a fair idea of what the other woman was about to say, quickly clarifying, "I was a member of the same unit, same team, for ten years. By the time I was 'in charge' we knew each other so well, there really was no such things are orders. They trusted me and I trusted them. I haven't had the same time to build that trust here, if that makes any sense."
Teyla nodded. "Are you concerned this may cost you some of that trust?"
"No, more like cost me some respect which in turn will make them question me a bit more and, in turn, make them less likely to trust me," Sam explained.
"Will the way you dress truly cost you respect?" Teyla challenged gently. She gestured to her own outfit of a small leather halter-top and fringed skirt. It was surprisingly not that different in style from what she usually preferred to wear.
Sam sighed again and plopped down less than gracefully onto one of the comfortably padded benches lining the small room. She tried to call up all the cultural sensitivity lectures Daniel had given over the years, before deciding to barrel ahead on her own.
"In the U.S. military, women often have to fight that much harder, be that much better to make rank," she explained. "The old stereotypes of objectifying women still exist, even if they are not supposed to, and even if people are actively fighting against them. I am currently Colonel Sheppard's commanding officer. He's supposed to look at me like anyone else, male or female, and see only the pretty little birds on my shoulders. Parading around so far out of uniform as to be half-dressed will only stress the whole fact that I'm a woman, and put my body on display instead of my brains or my rank."
Teyla sat beside her, eyebrow raised in a look very reminiscent of one of her former teammates. "Do you really think so little of Colonel Sheppard?" she asked doubtingly.
"No," Sam reluctantly admitted. "It's more like I think so little of the people who have to read the report from this mission that says I used my breasts to get what I needed."
The edges of Teyla's mouth quirked up into the slightest hint of a grin. "While they are very impressive breasts, I doubt they alone will be the deciding factor in this negotiation."
Carter barked out a laugh at that, releasing the tension she had felt building inside her from the moment she had received the communiqué about this mission. "I guess the fact that we will be negotiating with other breasts, er, I mean, other women, should help?" she supposed.
Teyla's hand was on her thigh now, hot fingers against warm leather, except where her thumb brushed bare skin. "You must admit, our male companions have not made it thus far," she teased.
"Our male companions were captured and thrown into the brig for daring to wander into the tribe's inner circle," Carter considered. That fact was the very reason she now had to go stand before them, in traditional dress, and bargain for their release.
"Perhaps their breasts were not impressive enough," Teyla mused, causing Sam to choke with laughter once again.
"Perhaps not," she agreed, wiping moisture from her eyes with the back of her hand.
Teyla smiled back at her, giving her a moment to compose herself before asking, "Your military uniform is seen as a symbol of strength, is it not?"
Sam wavered her head back and forth for a moment before agreeing, "I guess so. The uniform represents the unit and the nation and the strength behind them. It also represents who you have become though, as a representation of that nation."
"It is similar here," the Athosian explained, gesturing to the simple wooden room, but it was clear she meant the village as a whole. "This dress represents their culture, who they have become over the many seasons they have fought to protect this land, and the strength of their resolve to maintain their identity. They are warriors, but they are also women."
Sam bit her lip as she thought about that. Daniel's lectures were still whispering in the back of her brain, but so were her own experiences with the oppressed Simarkans, and the proud Hak'tyl warriors of the Jaffa. The Simarkans were willing to see things in a new light once exposed to a new experience. It probably didn't hurt that she kicked the ass of the most oppressive tribal leader, showing everyone that women can and will be reckoned with. The Hak'tyl fought viciously to protect who they were, trying to make sure they weren't snuffed out of existence by some random System Lord who decided women were not worth as much as men, eventually earning a place of near equality with their Jaffa brothers.
"I guess," she finally relented.
Teyla patted her hand in a way that was surprisingly not condescending. "It is possible to possess both femininity and strength. One should not have to sacrifice part of who they are, part of their essence just to please others," she mused. Tilting her head to the side to look her in the eye, she added, "It is a difficult lesson to learn, for any culture."
Carter picked up on some of the undertones to her words, guessing, "Long way to the top of the Athosian hierarchy?"
Teyla blew out a dramatic breath, losing her ethereal calm for a moment as she slumped against the wall. "You would not believe how many asses I had to kick to stay in charge."
"I'm getting an idea," Sam chuckled. Slouching beside her, a thought came to mind. "Didn't you give up your leadership role when you came to Atlantis, or at least part of it?"
"It was a difficult choice, but some things are more important, even after effort it took to get there. As much as I fought to lead my people, there was still a greater battle to be won," she confirmed, thumb stroking idly over chilled knuckles. "I came to the decision that, as much as I loved my people and as much enthusiasm as your people had coming to this galaxy, that a guide would be needed, a voice for our people in counterpoint to your own. There were some disagreements among my people at first but, eventually, it was seen as the most fortuitous option for all involved."
"You kicked your way up another rung in the ladder," Sam summed it up.
Teyla's smile turned speculative. "Something like that," she agreed.
Now it was Sam's turn to raise an eyebrow at her. "You went from spokeswoman for your people to spokeswoman for an entire galaxy, it's a pretty decent sized jump."
"Nothing quite so grand," Teyla insisted. "As much as I knew your people would do their best to aid ours, they did not know our ways, or even our galaxy, and thought the ways of their own people best. I have simply been attempting to guide them along a path of compromise. We need to respect our existing culture, but embrace that which may make us better as well."
"Like the ability to wear a uniform and follow the rules when needed, but also be able to strip down and kick ass if the situation calls for it?" Sam grinned.
"A fair analogy," the other woman smiled back. She slid her hands over to her own lap, cocking her head to the side as the tinkling sound of chimes filled the air. "It is nearly time to meet with the tribal leaders, we should finish getting you dressed."
"There's more?" Sam asked in her most put upon voice. Despite her complaint, she stood and followed Teyla back to the center of the room where a final basket lay, nearly covered with the detritus of the previous ensembles.
"Not much," Teyla assured her, quickly and efficiently opening the container and removing the layers of protective cloth and something that looked suspiciously like packing paper.
There were earrings made of metal and what looked to be feathers, which made Sam glad her ears were already pierced, and a beautiful blue stone necklace for each of them. Those were pretty self-explanatory. What she could not identify was a strange contraption of metal and leather that curved outwards, with long leather ties attached. "Do I want to know?" she asked hesitantly.
The smaller woman's reassuring smile turned playful as her eyes twinkled in the torchlight. "We must protect those impressive breasts of yours somehow," she teased.
Sam remembered the large ceremonial bows several guards had been carrying with a grimace; those had the potential to hurt far more than her forearm if snapped incorrectly. She just hoped she didn't make a fool of herself with the first shot; it had been a while since she had shot anything that didn't come with replaceable magazines. Shaking her head, she thought of all the old myths - myths that she was now pretty sure were perpetuated by men afraid of women challenging their authority - and simply sighed, "Well, it's better than cutting them off."
Teyla paused in her unwinding of the laces to give her a horrified look. "May I assume this is a cultural reference I do not yet know?"
Now it was Carter's turn to reassure her. Placing a cool hand on her warm skin, she said, "Something like that. Old stories told by the wrong people for far too many years."
Teyla nodded, and returned to her task. "I trust they have since been corrected?"
Sam shrugged. "Some people have tried, but it takes a while for new information to sink through." She looked towards the doorway leading to the courtyard, across which housed the cell where their male counterparts sat waiting to be freed. She briefly wondered how awkward they would be when the great warrior women had to come to the rescue of their menfolk before declaring, "The first one to call us Xena or Gabrielle has PT for a month."
End.
~~~~~~~~~~
Feedback is always welcomed.
Title: Burdens of Leadership
Genre: SGA, Teyla Emmagen/Samantha Carter, hint of femslash
Season/Spoilers: Early SGA Season 4, General knowledge of SG-1
Rating: PG-13
Synopsis: “This is not exactly the way I thought I’d be starting out this command.”
Prompt: Stargate: Atlantis, Teyla and Sam: amazons and warrior women - "I always thought that cutting off a breast was a bit much"
Disclaimer: I don’t own them, people with a lot of money do. I’m just borrowing them to play and making no profit from this.
~~~~~~~~~~
"This is not exactly the way I thought I'd be starting out this command," Sam muttered, trying to reach one of the little leather ties one-handed.
Teyla took it from her and quickly knotted the armband into place with a smile. "You have been with us for nearly two cycles of the largest moon, you are hardly just starting out," she corrected. She left her hand on her arm, letting her skin warm the shivering commander. Unlike Sam, she seemed to barely feel the cold, radiating a comforting heat.
It was not that the Galasion planet was so cool, as much as it was that the inhabitants preferred to wear very little clothing. The women wore a sort of top that was a cross between a bra and a bodice and either a skirt or pants, and the men wore pants and occasionally a vest. For ceremonial or official functions, they seemed to require flashier versions of their everyday wear, and everyone involved was to wear what was offered if they were to participate. She was certain there was some story behind the tradition, and she was fairly certain she would hear about it before the day was over.
Carter turned to look at the Athosian, who was serving as her guide and assistant for this mission, but did not shrug away from the touch. "Still, I'm relatively new," she pointed out. "And I really did not expect to have to parade around half naked in front of people I'm still trying to make a good impression with."
Teyla's hand slid down her skin to rest on the soft leather gauntlet she wore. With quick, efficient movements, she undid the messy knot work and retied it in the correct manner. "Are you truly so concerned about what they think of you?" she asked.
"No," Sam answered quickly. She saw the look she was getting and lowered her head with a sigh. "Yes," she corrected.
"Why?" Teyla inquired, shifting over to her other arm and repeating the process. "You have led people before, have you not? Would you be so concerned around those?"
Sam bit her lip before answering, "That was different." She had a fair idea of what the other woman was about to say, quickly clarifying, "I was a member of the same unit, same team, for ten years. By the time I was 'in charge' we knew each other so well, there really was no such things are orders. They trusted me and I trusted them. I haven't had the same time to build that trust here, if that makes any sense."
Teyla nodded. "Are you concerned this may cost you some of that trust?"
"No, more like cost me some respect which in turn will make them question me a bit more and, in turn, make them less likely to trust me," Sam explained.
"Will the way you dress truly cost you respect?" Teyla challenged gently. She gestured to her own outfit of a small leather halter-top and fringed skirt. It was surprisingly not that different in style from what she usually preferred to wear.
Sam sighed again and plopped down less than gracefully onto one of the comfortably padded benches lining the small room. She tried to call up all the cultural sensitivity lectures Daniel had given over the years, before deciding to barrel ahead on her own.
"In the U.S. military, women often have to fight that much harder, be that much better to make rank," she explained. "The old stereotypes of objectifying women still exist, even if they are not supposed to, and even if people are actively fighting against them. I am currently Colonel Sheppard's commanding officer. He's supposed to look at me like anyone else, male or female, and see only the pretty little birds on my shoulders. Parading around so far out of uniform as to be half-dressed will only stress the whole fact that I'm a woman, and put my body on display instead of my brains or my rank."
Teyla sat beside her, eyebrow raised in a look very reminiscent of one of her former teammates. "Do you really think so little of Colonel Sheppard?" she asked doubtingly.
"No," Sam reluctantly admitted. "It's more like I think so little of the people who have to read the report from this mission that says I used my breasts to get what I needed."
The edges of Teyla's mouth quirked up into the slightest hint of a grin. "While they are very impressive breasts, I doubt they alone will be the deciding factor in this negotiation."
Carter barked out a laugh at that, releasing the tension she had felt building inside her from the moment she had received the communiqué about this mission. "I guess the fact that we will be negotiating with other breasts, er, I mean, other women, should help?" she supposed.
Teyla's hand was on her thigh now, hot fingers against warm leather, except where her thumb brushed bare skin. "You must admit, our male companions have not made it thus far," she teased.
"Our male companions were captured and thrown into the brig for daring to wander into the tribe's inner circle," Carter considered. That fact was the very reason she now had to go stand before them, in traditional dress, and bargain for their release.
"Perhaps their breasts were not impressive enough," Teyla mused, causing Sam to choke with laughter once again.
"Perhaps not," she agreed, wiping moisture from her eyes with the back of her hand.
Teyla smiled back at her, giving her a moment to compose herself before asking, "Your military uniform is seen as a symbol of strength, is it not?"
Sam wavered her head back and forth for a moment before agreeing, "I guess so. The uniform represents the unit and the nation and the strength behind them. It also represents who you have become though, as a representation of that nation."
"It is similar here," the Athosian explained, gesturing to the simple wooden room, but it was clear she meant the village as a whole. "This dress represents their culture, who they have become over the many seasons they have fought to protect this land, and the strength of their resolve to maintain their identity. They are warriors, but they are also women."
Sam bit her lip as she thought about that. Daniel's lectures were still whispering in the back of her brain, but so were her own experiences with the oppressed Simarkans, and the proud Hak'tyl warriors of the Jaffa. The Simarkans were willing to see things in a new light once exposed to a new experience. It probably didn't hurt that she kicked the ass of the most oppressive tribal leader, showing everyone that women can and will be reckoned with. The Hak'tyl fought viciously to protect who they were, trying to make sure they weren't snuffed out of existence by some random System Lord who decided women were not worth as much as men, eventually earning a place of near equality with their Jaffa brothers.
"I guess," she finally relented.
Teyla patted her hand in a way that was surprisingly not condescending. "It is possible to possess both femininity and strength. One should not have to sacrifice part of who they are, part of their essence just to please others," she mused. Tilting her head to the side to look her in the eye, she added, "It is a difficult lesson to learn, for any culture."
Carter picked up on some of the undertones to her words, guessing, "Long way to the top of the Athosian hierarchy?"
Teyla blew out a dramatic breath, losing her ethereal calm for a moment as she slumped against the wall. "You would not believe how many asses I had to kick to stay in charge."
"I'm getting an idea," Sam chuckled. Slouching beside her, a thought came to mind. "Didn't you give up your leadership role when you came to Atlantis, or at least part of it?"
"It was a difficult choice, but some things are more important, even after effort it took to get there. As much as I fought to lead my people, there was still a greater battle to be won," she confirmed, thumb stroking idly over chilled knuckles. "I came to the decision that, as much as I loved my people and as much enthusiasm as your people had coming to this galaxy, that a guide would be needed, a voice for our people in counterpoint to your own. There were some disagreements among my people at first but, eventually, it was seen as the most fortuitous option for all involved."
"You kicked your way up another rung in the ladder," Sam summed it up.
Teyla's smile turned speculative. "Something like that," she agreed.
Now it was Sam's turn to raise an eyebrow at her. "You went from spokeswoman for your people to spokeswoman for an entire galaxy, it's a pretty decent sized jump."
"Nothing quite so grand," Teyla insisted. "As much as I knew your people would do their best to aid ours, they did not know our ways, or even our galaxy, and thought the ways of their own people best. I have simply been attempting to guide them along a path of compromise. We need to respect our existing culture, but embrace that which may make us better as well."
"Like the ability to wear a uniform and follow the rules when needed, but also be able to strip down and kick ass if the situation calls for it?" Sam grinned.
"A fair analogy," the other woman smiled back. She slid her hands over to her own lap, cocking her head to the side as the tinkling sound of chimes filled the air. "It is nearly time to meet with the tribal leaders, we should finish getting you dressed."
"There's more?" Sam asked in her most put upon voice. Despite her complaint, she stood and followed Teyla back to the center of the room where a final basket lay, nearly covered with the detritus of the previous ensembles.
"Not much," Teyla assured her, quickly and efficiently opening the container and removing the layers of protective cloth and something that looked suspiciously like packing paper.
There were earrings made of metal and what looked to be feathers, which made Sam glad her ears were already pierced, and a beautiful blue stone necklace for each of them. Those were pretty self-explanatory. What she could not identify was a strange contraption of metal and leather that curved outwards, with long leather ties attached. "Do I want to know?" she asked hesitantly.
The smaller woman's reassuring smile turned playful as her eyes twinkled in the torchlight. "We must protect those impressive breasts of yours somehow," she teased.
Sam remembered the large ceremonial bows several guards had been carrying with a grimace; those had the potential to hurt far more than her forearm if snapped incorrectly. She just hoped she didn't make a fool of herself with the first shot; it had been a while since she had shot anything that didn't come with replaceable magazines. Shaking her head, she thought of all the old myths - myths that she was now pretty sure were perpetuated by men afraid of women challenging their authority - and simply sighed, "Well, it's better than cutting them off."
Teyla paused in her unwinding of the laces to give her a horrified look. "May I assume this is a cultural reference I do not yet know?"
Now it was Carter's turn to reassure her. Placing a cool hand on her warm skin, she said, "Something like that. Old stories told by the wrong people for far too many years."
Teyla nodded, and returned to her task. "I trust they have since been corrected?"
Sam shrugged. "Some people have tried, but it takes a while for new information to sink through." She looked towards the doorway leading to the courtyard, across which housed the cell where their male counterparts sat waiting to be freed. She briefly wondered how awkward they would be when the great warrior women had to come to the rescue of their menfolk before declaring, "The first one to call us Xena or Gabrielle has PT for a month."
End.
~~~~~~~~~~
Feedback is always welcomed.