Desert Rose (Stargate Atlantis, Elizabeth, PG)
Title: Desert Rose
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Characters: Elizabeth Weir, Carson Beckett, John Sheppard
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Word count: 1709
fanfic100 prompt: #34. Not Enough. Prompt table
femgenficathon prompt: "Go to school and fight, fight. Fight in the courts, fight in the law." -- Mary Brave Bird (born 1953), Sicangu Oyate author and activist.
Summary: There are no slaves in Atlantis. Lady Elizabeth Weir, governor of the desert city Atlantis, gives a mistreated woman an important choice.
Author's notes: Set in the same AU as "Shifting Sands". I spent a lot of time toying with (and discarding) ideas for this femgenficathon prompt. I finally decided not to attempt something with a long plot and went with this -- which isn't long, but I reserve the right to write a sequel later. I'm glad to have the opportunity to return to this universe! I really enjoy it.
Elizabeth stood on the highest balcony in the tower, staring blindly out over her city. Her city. Her people. It wasn't just the ones who were born here, or who chose to make their lives here; everyone who set foot in this city was hers in some fashion. They were her responsibility, and they were answerable to her laws.
The law was clear: there were no slaves in Atlantis.
"Lady Weir?"
She turned at the quiet call. "Carson. How is she?"
The doctor's expression echoed her own unhappiness. "Bruises, lacerations -- no broken bones, currently, but there's evidence of previous breaks, poorly healed." He grimaced. "About what you'd expect."
Elizabeth's jaw clenched, and she looked away.
"From what I can tell," he added, voice softer, "there's no internal damage. The baby should be fine."
She let out a breath. "Good." Glancing back at him, she asked, "She still won't say what happened?"
"She barely spoke at all."
Elizabeth nodded. "I want to see her."
**
In city terms, the woman was still young. Elizabeth judged her to be in her late twenties, maybe thirty at the oldest; there was still a youthful beauty to her that the sun and sand hadn't leeched out yet. Even so, to the desert nomads, thirty was middle-aged. Looking at her, Elizabeth began to understand; her eyes were older, wiser, than those of someone her age in the city. She had seen a lot in her life. More, Elizabeth thought, than she had, safe in behind her walls.
But what Elizabeth hadn't seen, she had heard about. Safety and ignorance could not go hand in hand, not for the governor of a city in this desert.
The woman, Ralannya, sat uncomfortably on the edge of the infirmary bed. A bruise had begun to darken one side of her face; her hands were scraped, fingernails broken. The other injuries Carson had mentioned were hidden by the infirmary shift she wore. It was also loose enough to mostly hide her stomach, swollen with a pregnancy already several months along.
Elizabeth schooled her expression as she approached; the anger she felt wasn't directed at this woman, and she didn't need to feel the brunt of it. Even so, she couldn't help the way her jaw clenched when Ralannya's eyes dropped to the floor, her body tense with fear. Subservience was one thing, but this went beyond that into something ugly.
Elizabeth pulled the doctor's small chair over and sat down in front of the injured woman. "Ralannya." Her voice was soft, but the woman started. "I'm Elizabeth Weir, governor of this city. How are you feeling?"
Ralannya's gaze didn't lift, but Elizabeth could see enough of her expression to know she'd surprised her. "I -- I'm fine, my lady." It was little more than a whisper.
"No, you're not," Elizabeth contradicted her gently. "The doctor told me about your injuries. Can you tell me how you got them?"
Silence.
"Ralannya, look at me." Reluctantly, the woman did as she was told. Elizabeth caught and held her gaze. "Who did this to you?"
Confusion reigned on Ralannya's face. "Lady, I -- I am a slave." As though that were answer enough.
"There are no slaves in Atlantis," Elizabeth told her gently.
She shook her head. "I'm not from your city."
"Ralannya, everyone in Atlantis has the same rights and liberties. Not just citizens, but guests, as well."
Her gaze dropped. "My owner is one of your guests."
"So are you." Elizabeth smiled a little at the woman's obvious shock. She nodded slowly, repeating, "There are no slaves in Atlantis."
Ralannya sat up straighter as understanding dawned. "You... you would free me."
"You're already free, just by walking through the gates," Elizabeth told her. “You have the same rights as anyone else in Atlantis. He can't hurt you, Ralannya, and he can't claim you. Not here."
"But he..." She looked down at her hands, flexing the scraped fingers.
"If you tell us who he is and what happened, we can find him and punish him."
"Wh-why? And what kind of punishment?"
"Assault is a serious crime. If he was a citizen of Atlantis, either prison or hard labor. Since he's not, he may take the option of being banned from the city." Most outsiders took that option. There was no profit in coming back to the city after a conviction; few honest Lanteans would deal with an outsider who had a history of ignoring their city's laws.
Ralannya blinked her surprise. "And... what happens to me?"
"You'd be welcome to stay, regardless of what punishment he takes. Stay, as a free woman."
“Would I have to?” she asked hesitantly. “Stay, I mean. Could I leave?”
"You would be allowed to leave,” Elizabeth told her slowly. “No one would stop you. But our laws only extend as far as our borders, and truthfully, the enforcement of them doesn't go far beyond the walls."
"Ahh." The sound ended in a sigh, the hope in her eyes giving way to something far more world-weary. "So. Free, here, but to the rest of the world, still a slave. Still property." Her hands touched her stomach. "It's... something," she murmured, thoughtful.
"It's a better life for your child," Elizabeth told her softly. "Born and raised free, he would be free."
"Yes." A soft, regretful smile touched her lips. "But my other son, who is five years old, he would not be. My brothers and sisters, their children..." She shook her head. "Freeing me does not free them, or help them at all."
"No." It was Elizabeth's turn to look down, briefly. "No, it doesn't. But going back doesn't free them, either."
"No, but..." Ralannya was silent for a moment, her gaze distant. "I need to think about this, Lady. If I'm free here, it's my choice, right?"
"It is," Elizabeth agreed quietly. Her heart clenched, looking at the other woman. She suspected she knew what the decision would be.
**
Elizabeth stood on her balcony again a day later. This time it wasn't Carson who found her. She didn't turn as John took a space beside her, his arm brushing hers. "You okay?"
"Horin left today."
"Escorted to the border by city guards?"
She nodded. "Ralannya went with him."
She felt, more than saw, his grimace. "Why?"
"For her family." She sighed, looking at her hands on the railing. "She couldn't abandon them."
John was silent for a moment. "You'd do the same thing."
She glanced at him, surprised. Thinking about it, she had to agree. Her people... No, she wouldn't leave them. No matter the cost to herself.
"I understand it," she agreed finally. "But that doesn't mean I like it."
"Well, no."
"I wish --" She cut herself off, shaking her head. Feeling John's inquiring glance, she sighed and leaned forward onto the railing. Her eyes traced the buildings and streets of her city; her mind traced another path. "Sometimes I understand the Genii."
After an instant's silence, he cautiously said, "I'm not sure what you mean."
"The desire to expand, to impose their laws on everyone around them." She looked away. "I know what Ralannya is going back to. I know what she and her family live through every day. And there is nothing I can do to change it."
"No, there's not."
She clenched her jaw, trying not to rail at him for the simple agreement. "I was raised to rule," she told him, when she could. "I was raise to rule here, where there are just laws, and equality and justice for all people. I was raised to believe in reason over mindless violence. And I look out there," she gestured towards the outer wall, "and I see slavery and cruelty and violence, and I want to stop it. I want to make them stop and see how wrong they are."
John nodded slowly. "That doesn't make you like the Genii."
"Doesn't it?" Her smile had no humor in it. "I loathe their methods, and I loathe their ideals, but... The idea of making everyone follow the laws I think are right, and enforcing them myself..." She let out a breath, shaking her head. "It's a slippery slope, John."
"Maybe. I think the key to not falling down it is to not send out armies to make it happen." He leaned closer, lowering his voice confidentially. "I think you're safe."
She had to smile a little at that. "I'll grant you that." She clasped her hands together, staring down at them. "I wish there was something I could do."
"That woman, Ralannya. She was born a slave, right?" At Elizabeth's nod, he said, "You gave her a choice. A real choice. Maybe the first she'd ever had, and definitely the biggest. That's not nothing."
"No, it's not. But it was just one moment; it doesn't change anything, not really."
"Yeah, she's still a slave -- but now she knows there's somewhere she can be free. Somewhere her family can be free. That's hope, Elizabeth. You gave that to her."
“It doesn't seem like enough.” Even so, she felt her shoulders straighten, a little of the weight lifting off of them.
John shrugged. “Sometimes you have to make do with what you can get.”
“Mm.” Elizabeth was silent for another moment. “Maybe someday I'll be able to do more.”
“Maybe.” John's tone wasn't flippant. She got the feeling that he wouldn't be surprised if she did manage to help Ralannya and her people at some point. His faith in her made her smile. He saw it and gave her a lopsided grin in response. “For now, though, how about we go inside and have dinner? I know for a fact you didn't eat breakfast, and I'm betting you skipped lunch, too.”
“Making me eat again. You're getting as bad as my aides.” She smiled at his insistence, though, and let him lead her back inside.
But before she went through the door, her gaze lingered on the distant city walls, her thoughts on the desert beyond. The “maybe” became a promise, deep in her heart. One day, Ralannya, I'll see you and yours free. I swear it.
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Characters: Elizabeth Weir, Carson Beckett, John Sheppard
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Word count: 1709
fanfic100 prompt: #34. Not Enough. Prompt table
femgenficathon prompt: "Go to school and fight, fight. Fight in the courts, fight in the law." -- Mary Brave Bird (born 1953), Sicangu Oyate author and activist.
Summary: There are no slaves in Atlantis. Lady Elizabeth Weir, governor of the desert city Atlantis, gives a mistreated woman an important choice.
Author's notes: Set in the same AU as "Shifting Sands". I spent a lot of time toying with (and discarding) ideas for this femgenficathon prompt. I finally decided not to attempt something with a long plot and went with this -- which isn't long, but I reserve the right to write a sequel later. I'm glad to have the opportunity to return to this universe! I really enjoy it.
Elizabeth stood on the highest balcony in the tower, staring blindly out over her city. Her city. Her people. It wasn't just the ones who were born here, or who chose to make their lives here; everyone who set foot in this city was hers in some fashion. They were her responsibility, and they were answerable to her laws.
The law was clear: there were no slaves in Atlantis.
"Lady Weir?"
She turned at the quiet call. "Carson. How is she?"
The doctor's expression echoed her own unhappiness. "Bruises, lacerations -- no broken bones, currently, but there's evidence of previous breaks, poorly healed." He grimaced. "About what you'd expect."
Elizabeth's jaw clenched, and she looked away.
"From what I can tell," he added, voice softer, "there's no internal damage. The baby should be fine."
She let out a breath. "Good." Glancing back at him, she asked, "She still won't say what happened?"
"She barely spoke at all."
Elizabeth nodded. "I want to see her."
**
In city terms, the woman was still young. Elizabeth judged her to be in her late twenties, maybe thirty at the oldest; there was still a youthful beauty to her that the sun and sand hadn't leeched out yet. Even so, to the desert nomads, thirty was middle-aged. Looking at her, Elizabeth began to understand; her eyes were older, wiser, than those of someone her age in the city. She had seen a lot in her life. More, Elizabeth thought, than she had, safe in behind her walls.
But what Elizabeth hadn't seen, she had heard about. Safety and ignorance could not go hand in hand, not for the governor of a city in this desert.
The woman, Ralannya, sat uncomfortably on the edge of the infirmary bed. A bruise had begun to darken one side of her face; her hands were scraped, fingernails broken. The other injuries Carson had mentioned were hidden by the infirmary shift she wore. It was also loose enough to mostly hide her stomach, swollen with a pregnancy already several months along.
Elizabeth schooled her expression as she approached; the anger she felt wasn't directed at this woman, and she didn't need to feel the brunt of it. Even so, she couldn't help the way her jaw clenched when Ralannya's eyes dropped to the floor, her body tense with fear. Subservience was one thing, but this went beyond that into something ugly.
Elizabeth pulled the doctor's small chair over and sat down in front of the injured woman. "Ralannya." Her voice was soft, but the woman started. "I'm Elizabeth Weir, governor of this city. How are you feeling?"
Ralannya's gaze didn't lift, but Elizabeth could see enough of her expression to know she'd surprised her. "I -- I'm fine, my lady." It was little more than a whisper.
"No, you're not," Elizabeth contradicted her gently. "The doctor told me about your injuries. Can you tell me how you got them?"
Silence.
"Ralannya, look at me." Reluctantly, the woman did as she was told. Elizabeth caught and held her gaze. "Who did this to you?"
Confusion reigned on Ralannya's face. "Lady, I -- I am a slave." As though that were answer enough.
"There are no slaves in Atlantis," Elizabeth told her gently.
She shook her head. "I'm not from your city."
"Ralannya, everyone in Atlantis has the same rights and liberties. Not just citizens, but guests, as well."
Her gaze dropped. "My owner is one of your guests."
"So are you." Elizabeth smiled a little at the woman's obvious shock. She nodded slowly, repeating, "There are no slaves in Atlantis."
Ralannya sat up straighter as understanding dawned. "You... you would free me."
"You're already free, just by walking through the gates," Elizabeth told her. “You have the same rights as anyone else in Atlantis. He can't hurt you, Ralannya, and he can't claim you. Not here."
"But he..." She looked down at her hands, flexing the scraped fingers.
"If you tell us who he is and what happened, we can find him and punish him."
"Wh-why? And what kind of punishment?"
"Assault is a serious crime. If he was a citizen of Atlantis, either prison or hard labor. Since he's not, he may take the option of being banned from the city." Most outsiders took that option. There was no profit in coming back to the city after a conviction; few honest Lanteans would deal with an outsider who had a history of ignoring their city's laws.
Ralannya blinked her surprise. "And... what happens to me?"
"You'd be welcome to stay, regardless of what punishment he takes. Stay, as a free woman."
“Would I have to?” she asked hesitantly. “Stay, I mean. Could I leave?”
"You would be allowed to leave,” Elizabeth told her slowly. “No one would stop you. But our laws only extend as far as our borders, and truthfully, the enforcement of them doesn't go far beyond the walls."
"Ahh." The sound ended in a sigh, the hope in her eyes giving way to something far more world-weary. "So. Free, here, but to the rest of the world, still a slave. Still property." Her hands touched her stomach. "It's... something," she murmured, thoughtful.
"It's a better life for your child," Elizabeth told her softly. "Born and raised free, he would be free."
"Yes." A soft, regretful smile touched her lips. "But my other son, who is five years old, he would not be. My brothers and sisters, their children..." She shook her head. "Freeing me does not free them, or help them at all."
"No." It was Elizabeth's turn to look down, briefly. "No, it doesn't. But going back doesn't free them, either."
"No, but..." Ralannya was silent for a moment, her gaze distant. "I need to think about this, Lady. If I'm free here, it's my choice, right?"
"It is," Elizabeth agreed quietly. Her heart clenched, looking at the other woman. She suspected she knew what the decision would be.
**
Elizabeth stood on her balcony again a day later. This time it wasn't Carson who found her. She didn't turn as John took a space beside her, his arm brushing hers. "You okay?"
"Horin left today."
"Escorted to the border by city guards?"
She nodded. "Ralannya went with him."
She felt, more than saw, his grimace. "Why?"
"For her family." She sighed, looking at her hands on the railing. "She couldn't abandon them."
John was silent for a moment. "You'd do the same thing."
She glanced at him, surprised. Thinking about it, she had to agree. Her people... No, she wouldn't leave them. No matter the cost to herself.
"I understand it," she agreed finally. "But that doesn't mean I like it."
"Well, no."
"I wish --" She cut herself off, shaking her head. Feeling John's inquiring glance, she sighed and leaned forward onto the railing. Her eyes traced the buildings and streets of her city; her mind traced another path. "Sometimes I understand the Genii."
After an instant's silence, he cautiously said, "I'm not sure what you mean."
"The desire to expand, to impose their laws on everyone around them." She looked away. "I know what Ralannya is going back to. I know what she and her family live through every day. And there is nothing I can do to change it."
"No, there's not."
She clenched her jaw, trying not to rail at him for the simple agreement. "I was raised to rule," she told him, when she could. "I was raise to rule here, where there are just laws, and equality and justice for all people. I was raised to believe in reason over mindless violence. And I look out there," she gestured towards the outer wall, "and I see slavery and cruelty and violence, and I want to stop it. I want to make them stop and see how wrong they are."
John nodded slowly. "That doesn't make you like the Genii."
"Doesn't it?" Her smile had no humor in it. "I loathe their methods, and I loathe their ideals, but... The idea of making everyone follow the laws I think are right, and enforcing them myself..." She let out a breath, shaking her head. "It's a slippery slope, John."
"Maybe. I think the key to not falling down it is to not send out armies to make it happen." He leaned closer, lowering his voice confidentially. "I think you're safe."
She had to smile a little at that. "I'll grant you that." She clasped her hands together, staring down at them. "I wish there was something I could do."
"That woman, Ralannya. She was born a slave, right?" At Elizabeth's nod, he said, "You gave her a choice. A real choice. Maybe the first she'd ever had, and definitely the biggest. That's not nothing."
"No, it's not. But it was just one moment; it doesn't change anything, not really."
"Yeah, she's still a slave -- but now she knows there's somewhere she can be free. Somewhere her family can be free. That's hope, Elizabeth. You gave that to her."
“It doesn't seem like enough.” Even so, she felt her shoulders straighten, a little of the weight lifting off of them.
John shrugged. “Sometimes you have to make do with what you can get.”
“Mm.” Elizabeth was silent for another moment. “Maybe someday I'll be able to do more.”
“Maybe.” John's tone wasn't flippant. She got the feeling that he wouldn't be surprised if she did manage to help Ralannya and her people at some point. His faith in her made her smile. He saw it and gave her a lopsided grin in response. “For now, though, how about we go inside and have dinner? I know for a fact you didn't eat breakfast, and I'm betting you skipped lunch, too.”
“Making me eat again. You're getting as bad as my aides.” She smiled at his insistence, though, and let him lead her back inside.
But before she went through the door, her gaze lingered on the distant city walls, her thoughts on the desert beyond. The “maybe” became a promise, deep in her heart. One day, Ralannya, I'll see you and yours free. I swear it.