Fic, Stargate SG-1, Transitions, PG-13, 2/3
Outside it was chaos. Most of the houses were on fire. Lyar caught a glimpse of a Jaffa, and hurriedly hid behind a stone fence.
'That is not Apophis' Jaffa!'
'No, it is Cronus'. They must have declared war and decided to fight for this world. These poor people are the victims.'
'Hvar er modir! Ek sakna henni!' the child insisted, crying louder.
'Shhh, you must be quiet, or the Jaffa will hear us!' Lyar told him in a low voice. 'Quiet!'
The child continued crying, but lowered the volume some. Jora arrived, running, and hid where they were.
'You must be silent. I could hear you as soon as I reached the corner of that building.' Jora whispered, pointing at a burning house twenty feet away. She stroked the child's head, smoothing out his blond hair. 'Thagda, barn.'
Hearing words he recognized, the child quieted some.
'What is going on?' Lyar asked in a low voice. 'Can we get to the temple?'
Jora shook her head. 'Not right now. The Jaffa have rounded up everyone in the village - everyone that is still alive, that is. The child must not see what is going on. The Jaffa are killing those too old to work. They are dividing the younger in those that will be slaves and those that will be hosts. They are raping many of the women not chosen to be sex slaves, but I do not believe they will kill them - unless it gets out of hand.'
'That all explains the screams.' Lyar said, holding the child over the ears. The child looked up at him with tears in his eyes, and a desolate expression. Suddenly he got up and would have escaped, had not Lyar held him back. 'No, stay here!'
'Ek skulu frelsa systir minn - eda modir minn!' The boy looked at them with big, intense, and very pale blue-grey eyes.
'He says he must save his sister and mother.' Jora translated.
Lyar shook his head. 'Tell him he will be killed - and they would not want that!'
Jora translated that to the child, and talked to him for a while, before he - somewhat defiantly, but no longer crying - sat down. She smiled at him. 'Hvat er ydarr nafn?'
'Martouf.' the boy said.
'I asked him what his name is. He says it is Martouf.' she turned to the child. 'At ek sterkr nafn!'
'And that?'
'I told him it is a strong name.'
Lyar nodded, and smiled at the boy, then pulled him close to him again. The child hid his head against his shoulder and clung to him, as if he was the only thing between him and the abyss.
They sat like that for a long time, hiding under some bushes behind the stone fence, until the screaming quieted down.
'I think it will be safe to move now - we should see if we can find Korra and Aldwin.' Jora said.
Lyar followed, with the child Martouf close beside him. Martouf was no longer crying, but was still clinging to Lyar's hand, not willing to let go even for a second.
They avoided the village town square, fearing the child should see the dead bodies there and recognizes someone he knew.
They could see the temple at the outer part of the village, when they heard someone shouting. They did not have to turn to know it was a Jaffa. Instead they ran straight for the nearest cover, but they did not reach it in time. Lyar cried out as first one, then another staff shot hit him in the back, and he fell to the ground, motionless.
Martouf screamed loudly and threw himself on the ground beside the fallen man. 'Neinn! Gera eigi deyja! Neinn!' (No! Do not die. No!)
Jora tried to pull him with her. 'Koma her barn...' (Come here child)
'Neinn!'
Lyar made a sound that convinced Jora he was alive, and instead she grabbed him and starting dragging him to safety.
'He will not live long.' Tohla told her host.
'Maybe we can find him a new host.'
Jora got Lyar/Lantash to safety and looked for Martouf. He was no where to be seen. She looked around and spotted him running across the street. She yelled at him to come to her, knowing the Jaffa could return anytime. He yelled back that he needed to find the village healer.
That was when the Jaffa appeared again and fired at the kid. It was a grazing shot to his upper back, but he fell like a stone.
Jora swore to herself and Tohla, but then turned to Lantash who was waking. The Jaffa had left again, sure he had killed all the villagers.
'Jora...I can't heal Lyar. Please...please tell Jolinar...and Rosha. I am sorry...for failing...I love them...'
'Shh, Lantash, maybe...maybe we can find you a new host.'
'There's no one left...alive...here.'
Before she could answer, she noticed he had become unconscious again.
'Maybe the child Martouf?' Jora suggested to Tohla.
'He is too young...if he is even alive still.'
'Let us find out.' Jora looked around, and when she was sure there were no Jaffa nearby, she ran to where Martouf had fallen. 'He is still alive.'
'But badly wounded.'
'Lantash can heal him - he is much less injured than Lyar.'
'If he will even fit in him. Martouf is near the lower age of those that can be safely taken as host.'
'He is tall for his age. We should try. If we do not, all three will die. This way two may live.'
'True, but we need his consent.'
Jora carefully lifted the child and carried him to the relative safety where Lyar/Lantash was lying. She found her water bottle and poured a little on the face of the child, then in his mouth. He woke up, coughing weakly.
'Martouf...nu tu munu sterkr.' (Now you must be strong)
'Hvat?'
Jora took a deep breath and started explaining to the kid that he had been shot, was dying, but could live by also saving the life of Lantash - a very close friend of Lyar. Martouf immediately said he would save someone who was close to Lyar, and when Lantash coughed weakly behind them Jora realized they were out of time. That would have to do as consent. Martouf lost consciousness again, and she put him down beside Lyar/Lantash.
She nudged Lantash gently. 'I have a host for you. He is here beside you. He is Martouf - and he has consented. More or less.'
'Martouf? Are you...crazy? He is...a child.'
'He is dying from his wounds. You are dying from your wounds. You can save each other.'
'I doubt...it will be...successful. I am...a longer symbiote than average.'
'He is taller than his age. At least try. What do either of you have to lose?' Jora said exasperated at him. 'Think of Rosha and Jolinar. They would want at least one of you to live!'
Lantash was quiet for a while, then nodded slowly. 'I will try. Yes.' He said his goodbyes to his beloved host - even if he was unconscious - and detached himself from him.
When he slithered out of Lyar's mouth, Jora took him gently in her hands, as he was weak from trying to heal Lyar. She put him on Martouf's chest, and held Martouf's mouth open, as Lantash slid inside, quickly.
'Well?' Jora asked, nervously, when Lantash had not said anything or moved in any way.
'It is cramped in here, but I will manage; I shall look forward to he is grown so I can stretch out some!'
Jora laughed, relieved at his grumpiness. 'I am certain you will manage!'
'That is not Apophis' Jaffa!'
'No, it is Cronus'. They must have declared war and decided to fight for this world. These poor people are the victims.'
'Hvar er modir! Ek sakna henni!' the child insisted, crying louder.
'Shhh, you must be quiet, or the Jaffa will hear us!' Lyar told him in a low voice. 'Quiet!'
The child continued crying, but lowered the volume some. Jora arrived, running, and hid where they were.
'You must be silent. I could hear you as soon as I reached the corner of that building.' Jora whispered, pointing at a burning house twenty feet away. She stroked the child's head, smoothing out his blond hair. 'Thagda, barn.'
Hearing words he recognized, the child quieted some.
'What is going on?' Lyar asked in a low voice. 'Can we get to the temple?'
Jora shook her head. 'Not right now. The Jaffa have rounded up everyone in the village - everyone that is still alive, that is. The child must not see what is going on. The Jaffa are killing those too old to work. They are dividing the younger in those that will be slaves and those that will be hosts. They are raping many of the women not chosen to be sex slaves, but I do not believe they will kill them - unless it gets out of hand.'
'That all explains the screams.' Lyar said, holding the child over the ears. The child looked up at him with tears in his eyes, and a desolate expression. Suddenly he got up and would have escaped, had not Lyar held him back. 'No, stay here!'
'Ek skulu frelsa systir minn - eda modir minn!' The boy looked at them with big, intense, and very pale blue-grey eyes.
'He says he must save his sister and mother.' Jora translated.
Lyar shook his head. 'Tell him he will be killed - and they would not want that!'
Jora translated that to the child, and talked to him for a while, before he - somewhat defiantly, but no longer crying - sat down. She smiled at him. 'Hvat er ydarr nafn?'
'Martouf.' the boy said.
'I asked him what his name is. He says it is Martouf.' she turned to the child. 'At ek sterkr nafn!'
'And that?'
'I told him it is a strong name.'
Lyar nodded, and smiled at the boy, then pulled him close to him again. The child hid his head against his shoulder and clung to him, as if he was the only thing between him and the abyss.
They sat like that for a long time, hiding under some bushes behind the stone fence, until the screaming quieted down.
'I think it will be safe to move now - we should see if we can find Korra and Aldwin.' Jora said.
Lyar followed, with the child Martouf close beside him. Martouf was no longer crying, but was still clinging to Lyar's hand, not willing to let go even for a second.
They avoided the village town square, fearing the child should see the dead bodies there and recognizes someone he knew.
They could see the temple at the outer part of the village, when they heard someone shouting. They did not have to turn to know it was a Jaffa. Instead they ran straight for the nearest cover, but they did not reach it in time. Lyar cried out as first one, then another staff shot hit him in the back, and he fell to the ground, motionless.
Martouf screamed loudly and threw himself on the ground beside the fallen man. 'Neinn! Gera eigi deyja! Neinn!' (No! Do not die. No!)
Jora tried to pull him with her. 'Koma her barn...' (Come here child)
'Neinn!'
Lyar made a sound that convinced Jora he was alive, and instead she grabbed him and starting dragging him to safety.
'He will not live long.' Tohla told her host.
'Maybe we can find him a new host.'
Jora got Lyar/Lantash to safety and looked for Martouf. He was no where to be seen. She looked around and spotted him running across the street. She yelled at him to come to her, knowing the Jaffa could return anytime. He yelled back that he needed to find the village healer.
That was when the Jaffa appeared again and fired at the kid. It was a grazing shot to his upper back, but he fell like a stone.
Jora swore to herself and Tohla, but then turned to Lantash who was waking. The Jaffa had left again, sure he had killed all the villagers.
'Jora...I can't heal Lyar. Please...please tell Jolinar...and Rosha. I am sorry...for failing...I love them...'
'Shh, Lantash, maybe...maybe we can find you a new host.'
'There's no one left...alive...here.'
Before she could answer, she noticed he had become unconscious again.
'Maybe the child Martouf?' Jora suggested to Tohla.
'He is too young...if he is even alive still.'
'Let us find out.' Jora looked around, and when she was sure there were no Jaffa nearby, she ran to where Martouf had fallen. 'He is still alive.'
'But badly wounded.'
'Lantash can heal him - he is much less injured than Lyar.'
'If he will even fit in him. Martouf is near the lower age of those that can be safely taken as host.'
'He is tall for his age. We should try. If we do not, all three will die. This way two may live.'
'True, but we need his consent.'
Jora carefully lifted the child and carried him to the relative safety where Lyar/Lantash was lying. She found her water bottle and poured a little on the face of the child, then in his mouth. He woke up, coughing weakly.
'Martouf...nu tu munu sterkr.' (Now you must be strong)
'Hvat?'
Jora took a deep breath and started explaining to the kid that he had been shot, was dying, but could live by also saving the life of Lantash - a very close friend of Lyar. Martouf immediately said he would save someone who was close to Lyar, and when Lantash coughed weakly behind them Jora realized they were out of time. That would have to do as consent. Martouf lost consciousness again, and she put him down beside Lyar/Lantash.
She nudged Lantash gently. 'I have a host for you. He is here beside you. He is Martouf - and he has consented. More or less.'
'Martouf? Are you...crazy? He is...a child.'
'He is dying from his wounds. You are dying from your wounds. You can save each other.'
'I doubt...it will be...successful. I am...a longer symbiote than average.'
'He is taller than his age. At least try. What do either of you have to lose?' Jora said exasperated at him. 'Think of Rosha and Jolinar. They would want at least one of you to live!'
Lantash was quiet for a while, then nodded slowly. 'I will try. Yes.' He said his goodbyes to his beloved host - even if he was unconscious - and detached himself from him.
When he slithered out of Lyar's mouth, Jora took him gently in her hands, as he was weak from trying to heal Lyar. She put him on Martouf's chest, and held Martouf's mouth open, as Lantash slid inside, quickly.
'Well?' Jora asked, nervously, when Lantash had not said anything or moved in any way.
'It is cramped in here, but I will manage; I shall look forward to he is grown so I can stretch out some!'
Jora laughed, relieved at his grumpiness. 'I am certain you will manage!'