Our Lady of the Moonlight, First Contact challenge by Kiara Sayre
Title: Our Lady of the Moonlight
Author: Kiara Sayre
Pairing: None
Rating: PG
Summary: Alavah teaches.
Notes: Thanks to frostfire_12 and zippitgood for beta-ing!
It’s a long hike to the hill the Venarii call Alavah. It doesn’t help that the pace is so quick-the pilgrimage is one that’s done almost monthly for most Venarii, so they’re used to it, even if Ford and Teyla aren’t. After the third hour, Ford has found his pace, and thinks he’s built up enough breath for a two-minute conversation. Maybe.
“Why’s it called Alavah?” he wheezes. Elaneh, their guide, flashes a quick smile at him.
“It means life,” she answers. “It goes by many other names, of course-some believe that a goddess lives there. Our Lady of the Moonlight, she is called.”
Ford nods breathlessly. The flowers, Elaneh explained, only bloomed when all three moons were full, which was about twice a year. They were quite fortunate to come at such an opportune time, she added, even if Major Sheppard and Rodney wouldn’t be able to feel anything because of their gene. Rodney still insisted on getting his samples, though, especially once he heard that the flowers stayed almost perfectly preserved for years.
“Alavah is sacred,” adds Elaneh. “Many come to see it, make peace with their lives and deeds, especially before a culling.”
She explained that, too-Alavah had a very calming and soothing effect on people, and was said to have the magical properties of connecting people to the universe at large. Rodney had, of course, exclaimed that the Atlantean xenobiologists would throttle him (“rip out my intestines and strangle me with them, do you really want that happening?”) if he didn’t get a sample, and Elaneh asked that Sheppard and Rodney remain to conclude the trade agreements, as they were, in the Venariian’s eyes, the more powerful of the four.
Ford mentioned softly to both Major Sheppard and Rodney the distinct possibility of hallucinogens, and Rodney made it quite clear that blood would be shed if these samples weren’t collected. Sheppard, unfortunately, agreed with Rodney; if it wasn’t fatal and the Venariians usually came back within twelve hours just fine, Ford and Teyla could survive it. And they were unarmed just in case.
Elaneh stops suddenly at the top of a hill, letting the pack drop off her back.
“We are here,” she says reverently. Ford and Teyla both look around, frowning slightly.
“This is it?” asks Ford doubtfully.
“The sun will set shortly, and with it, the moons will rise,” Elaneh says happily. “Half of an hour, at the most. Would you care to eat?”
Teyla and Ford trade looks as subtly as they can. Which is, of course, not subtly at all.
“What, exactly, will we see when the flowers bloom?” asks Teyla, frowning. There isn’t any evidence of flowers anywhere on the hills-just grass. Lots and lots of grass, though the hills seem to separate in a ‘V’ pointing towards the sunset, culminating in the hill the three travelers occupy.
“It is not so much what you will see,” Elaneh explains through a mouth of seasoned bread. “Alavah is…beyond words.”
“You mentioned that,” Ford says carefully. “I’m just wondering what to expect.”
“Alavah teaches,” says Elaneh, handing a blue fruit to Teyla. “Things are only what you make them, and if you make them nothing, then they cannot affect you.”
“The Wraith can affect you,” Teyla points out, using a small knife to cut her fruit.
“They can kill us,” agrees Elaneh, “but they cannot defeat us. We live our lives as best we can, and if the Wraith kill us, then the Wraith kill us. But they will not defeat us-not as long as we have hope.”
Ford tries not to roll his eyes at the sentiment, but Teyla continues the discussion.
“If there are no Venarii left, if the Wraith kill you all, then you will be defeated, will you not?” she asks.
“No matter what happens,” Elaneh says, “everything is as it should be. Should the Venarii be destroyed, then it is our time. We are not immortal, and we accept that. We have made our peace, and that is enough for us.”
Ford clears his throat before Teyla can pose another impassioned reply. This conversation played out before-and Elaneh always won, for the sole reason that she refused to be perturbed.
“It’s almost sunset,” he says, pointing towards the purple-pink sky.
Elaneh brushes off her hands and skirt before standing, motioning for Teyla and Ford to do the same. They follow her actions, Ford brushing awkwardly at the oversized silver cloak the Venarii provided. Apparently it was custom for everyone going to Alavah to wear the cloak, ungainly and thick as it was.
The three of them wait for a moment, as the last golden spot of sun blinks out of view, before turning entirely around, to wait for the moons.
They aren’t disappointed. A sliver of the largest moon inches over the horizon, and within minutes, two of the three moons are fully rounded. Elaneh smiles for a moment, glancing at Ford and Teyla (who are fidgeting, truth be told) before returning her gaze to the third moon just as it clears the flatlands in the distance, perfectly framed by the ‘V’ of hills.
The moonlight spills over the flatlands, and Ford can’t help but open his mouth slightly in awe as it coalesces, concentrating in a web, silver racing towards Alavah like a net being cast. He hears Teyla take a deep breath as what looks like quicksilver reaches them; the web reaches a point right where they’re standing, and Ford can’t hold back a shallow, quick breath, either.
Flowers. Every stalk of grass Ford and Teyla saw is now blooming, tiny petals unfurling to greet the moonlight in phosphorescent waves, glowing just as much as the moons above them.
“That’s-” Ford begins in a croak, even though the only word he can think of to follow it is ‘woah’, but Elaneh’s hand on his forearm stops him. He turns around to watch the net find its end, and it does, tapering away in almost a perfect circle centered at Alavah.
Beside him, Teyla takes a deep breath, and lets it out slowly. Ford understands. Wow.
After a few moments of watching the silver-it looks like a glowing ocean, the wind making it ripple like so many waves-he hears something.
It starts out softly, just beneath his hearing, but he can feel it, rising in his heart like a drowning man breaking the water, and then he hears it and his breath catches in his chest.
As much as it’s a song, it’s a sensation; a bliss of sorts, not orgasmic, but serene, calm, a moment captured in glowing, rippling amber. He understands, now, what Elaneh was saying before; woven into this net is a certainty, a confidence Ford hasn’t really felt before no matter how many times he’s tried; everything will be all right.
And as much as Alavah is a net, it’s a wheel; birth, life, death, and finally peace, and no matter what happens in between, the ending is the same, and the only true pain in life is a life wasted, a wheel unfinished.
It’s a relief, almost; sometimes Aiden feels as though the world is on his shoulders, but now he understands-no matter how badly he screws up, no matter how close his world may come to crumbling, there is at least one piece of the universe that is at peace, and suddenly the self-containment of Aiden’s wheel is a comfort-he can’t ruin this.
They stay there, standing, until the sky pinkens with approaching dawn and the beauty of Alavah fades slowly, yawning and stretching and laying itself to bed, ready to awaken again in half a year.
When Ford blinks to clear his eyes and turns to Elaneh, he sees that she holds a rather sizeable bouquet of the silver flowers in her arms.
“You said you needed samples,” she says, smiling slightly. Ford can see the glow still reflected in her eyes.
“Thank you,” Teyla chokes out after a moment, taking the bouquet numbly.
The hike seems half as long going back. The silence this time isn’t filled with panting, either; both Atlanteans seem to have adjusted. Ford isn’t quite as tired, though, and the bags underneath Teyla’s eyes-usually hidden well, but Ford sees her considerably more than anyone other than Rodney and Sheppard and possibly Weir-are smaller than usual. Strange, since they both didn’t sleep at all and spent the entire night standing.
The village of Venarii is quiet when the arrive, with only Sheppard, Rodney, and the village elder sitting around what the main hearth, where the festivals, holidays, and-apparently-treaty-signings are held.
“So?” asks Rodney impatiently. “Did you get the samples?”
Ford looks over at Teyla and sees that the silver folds of the traveler’s cloak have inched over her shoulders and closed, and Teyla starts, seeing the same.
“Yes, we have them,” she replies, moving the cloak so the bouquet is visible.
“Two of those flowers are for Aiden and Teyla, and the cloaks as well,” Elaneh says, smiling at the two. “As a reminder.”
Ford isn’t surprised to find himself smiling back.
“Thank you,” he says. Elaneh reaches forward in the Venariian version of a handshake, and Aiden complies, clasping her forearm.
“You are welcome here at any time,” she says, grasping Teyla’s arm as well. “Alavah will revive in five of your months, if I remember correctly.”
“We’ll keep that in mind,” Sheppard says, looking from Teyla to Ford. “Maybe we should go.”
“Was it at least pretty?” Rodney asks, somewhat bitterly-he had complained (loudly) about being left behind on this one, even though Elaneh informed him that he wouldn’t be able to feel Alavah the same way Ford and Teyla could.
Ford opens his mouth and leaves it like that for a moment, completely at a loss for words, before closing it again with a nearly-audible ‘click’.
“Yes,” Teyla says when Ford is done. “It was.”
Author: Kiara Sayre
Pairing: None
Rating: PG
Summary: Alavah teaches.
Notes: Thanks to frostfire_12 and zippitgood for beta-ing!
It’s a long hike to the hill the Venarii call Alavah. It doesn’t help that the pace is so quick-the pilgrimage is one that’s done almost monthly for most Venarii, so they’re used to it, even if Ford and Teyla aren’t. After the third hour, Ford has found his pace, and thinks he’s built up enough breath for a two-minute conversation. Maybe.
“Why’s it called Alavah?” he wheezes. Elaneh, their guide, flashes a quick smile at him.
“It means life,” she answers. “It goes by many other names, of course-some believe that a goddess lives there. Our Lady of the Moonlight, she is called.”
Ford nods breathlessly. The flowers, Elaneh explained, only bloomed when all three moons were full, which was about twice a year. They were quite fortunate to come at such an opportune time, she added, even if Major Sheppard and Rodney wouldn’t be able to feel anything because of their gene. Rodney still insisted on getting his samples, though, especially once he heard that the flowers stayed almost perfectly preserved for years.
“Alavah is sacred,” adds Elaneh. “Many come to see it, make peace with their lives and deeds, especially before a culling.”
She explained that, too-Alavah had a very calming and soothing effect on people, and was said to have the magical properties of connecting people to the universe at large. Rodney had, of course, exclaimed that the Atlantean xenobiologists would throttle him (“rip out my intestines and strangle me with them, do you really want that happening?”) if he didn’t get a sample, and Elaneh asked that Sheppard and Rodney remain to conclude the trade agreements, as they were, in the Venariian’s eyes, the more powerful of the four.
Ford mentioned softly to both Major Sheppard and Rodney the distinct possibility of hallucinogens, and Rodney made it quite clear that blood would be shed if these samples weren’t collected. Sheppard, unfortunately, agreed with Rodney; if it wasn’t fatal and the Venariians usually came back within twelve hours just fine, Ford and Teyla could survive it. And they were unarmed just in case.
Elaneh stops suddenly at the top of a hill, letting the pack drop off her back.
“We are here,” she says reverently. Ford and Teyla both look around, frowning slightly.
“This is it?” asks Ford doubtfully.
“The sun will set shortly, and with it, the moons will rise,” Elaneh says happily. “Half of an hour, at the most. Would you care to eat?”
Teyla and Ford trade looks as subtly as they can. Which is, of course, not subtly at all.
“What, exactly, will we see when the flowers bloom?” asks Teyla, frowning. There isn’t any evidence of flowers anywhere on the hills-just grass. Lots and lots of grass, though the hills seem to separate in a ‘V’ pointing towards the sunset, culminating in the hill the three travelers occupy.
“It is not so much what you will see,” Elaneh explains through a mouth of seasoned bread. “Alavah is…beyond words.”
“You mentioned that,” Ford says carefully. “I’m just wondering what to expect.”
“Alavah teaches,” says Elaneh, handing a blue fruit to Teyla. “Things are only what you make them, and if you make them nothing, then they cannot affect you.”
“The Wraith can affect you,” Teyla points out, using a small knife to cut her fruit.
“They can kill us,” agrees Elaneh, “but they cannot defeat us. We live our lives as best we can, and if the Wraith kill us, then the Wraith kill us. But they will not defeat us-not as long as we have hope.”
Ford tries not to roll his eyes at the sentiment, but Teyla continues the discussion.
“If there are no Venarii left, if the Wraith kill you all, then you will be defeated, will you not?” she asks.
“No matter what happens,” Elaneh says, “everything is as it should be. Should the Venarii be destroyed, then it is our time. We are not immortal, and we accept that. We have made our peace, and that is enough for us.”
Ford clears his throat before Teyla can pose another impassioned reply. This conversation played out before-and Elaneh always won, for the sole reason that she refused to be perturbed.
“It’s almost sunset,” he says, pointing towards the purple-pink sky.
Elaneh brushes off her hands and skirt before standing, motioning for Teyla and Ford to do the same. They follow her actions, Ford brushing awkwardly at the oversized silver cloak the Venarii provided. Apparently it was custom for everyone going to Alavah to wear the cloak, ungainly and thick as it was.
The three of them wait for a moment, as the last golden spot of sun blinks out of view, before turning entirely around, to wait for the moons.
They aren’t disappointed. A sliver of the largest moon inches over the horizon, and within minutes, two of the three moons are fully rounded. Elaneh smiles for a moment, glancing at Ford and Teyla (who are fidgeting, truth be told) before returning her gaze to the third moon just as it clears the flatlands in the distance, perfectly framed by the ‘V’ of hills.
The moonlight spills over the flatlands, and Ford can’t help but open his mouth slightly in awe as it coalesces, concentrating in a web, silver racing towards Alavah like a net being cast. He hears Teyla take a deep breath as what looks like quicksilver reaches them; the web reaches a point right where they’re standing, and Ford can’t hold back a shallow, quick breath, either.
Flowers. Every stalk of grass Ford and Teyla saw is now blooming, tiny petals unfurling to greet the moonlight in phosphorescent waves, glowing just as much as the moons above them.
“That’s-” Ford begins in a croak, even though the only word he can think of to follow it is ‘woah’, but Elaneh’s hand on his forearm stops him. He turns around to watch the net find its end, and it does, tapering away in almost a perfect circle centered at Alavah.
Beside him, Teyla takes a deep breath, and lets it out slowly. Ford understands. Wow.
After a few moments of watching the silver-it looks like a glowing ocean, the wind making it ripple like so many waves-he hears something.
It starts out softly, just beneath his hearing, but he can feel it, rising in his heart like a drowning man breaking the water, and then he hears it and his breath catches in his chest.
As much as it’s a song, it’s a sensation; a bliss of sorts, not orgasmic, but serene, calm, a moment captured in glowing, rippling amber. He understands, now, what Elaneh was saying before; woven into this net is a certainty, a confidence Ford hasn’t really felt before no matter how many times he’s tried; everything will be all right.
And as much as Alavah is a net, it’s a wheel; birth, life, death, and finally peace, and no matter what happens in between, the ending is the same, and the only true pain in life is a life wasted, a wheel unfinished.
It’s a relief, almost; sometimes Aiden feels as though the world is on his shoulders, but now he understands-no matter how badly he screws up, no matter how close his world may come to crumbling, there is at least one piece of the universe that is at peace, and suddenly the self-containment of Aiden’s wheel is a comfort-he can’t ruin this.
They stay there, standing, until the sky pinkens with approaching dawn and the beauty of Alavah fades slowly, yawning and stretching and laying itself to bed, ready to awaken again in half a year.
When Ford blinks to clear his eyes and turns to Elaneh, he sees that she holds a rather sizeable bouquet of the silver flowers in her arms.
“You said you needed samples,” she says, smiling slightly. Ford can see the glow still reflected in her eyes.
“Thank you,” Teyla chokes out after a moment, taking the bouquet numbly.
The hike seems half as long going back. The silence this time isn’t filled with panting, either; both Atlanteans seem to have adjusted. Ford isn’t quite as tired, though, and the bags underneath Teyla’s eyes-usually hidden well, but Ford sees her considerably more than anyone other than Rodney and Sheppard and possibly Weir-are smaller than usual. Strange, since they both didn’t sleep at all and spent the entire night standing.
The village of Venarii is quiet when the arrive, with only Sheppard, Rodney, and the village elder sitting around what the main hearth, where the festivals, holidays, and-apparently-treaty-signings are held.
“So?” asks Rodney impatiently. “Did you get the samples?”
Ford looks over at Teyla and sees that the silver folds of the traveler’s cloak have inched over her shoulders and closed, and Teyla starts, seeing the same.
“Yes, we have them,” she replies, moving the cloak so the bouquet is visible.
“Two of those flowers are for Aiden and Teyla, and the cloaks as well,” Elaneh says, smiling at the two. “As a reminder.”
Ford isn’t surprised to find himself smiling back.
“Thank you,” he says. Elaneh reaches forward in the Venariian version of a handshake, and Aiden complies, clasping her forearm.
“You are welcome here at any time,” she says, grasping Teyla’s arm as well. “Alavah will revive in five of your months, if I remember correctly.”
“We’ll keep that in mind,” Sheppard says, looking from Teyla to Ford. “Maybe we should go.”
“Was it at least pretty?” Rodney asks, somewhat bitterly-he had complained (loudly) about being left behind on this one, even though Elaneh informed him that he wouldn’t be able to feel Alavah the same way Ford and Teyla could.
Ford opens his mouth and leaves it like that for a moment, completely at a loss for words, before closing it again with a nearly-audible ‘click’.
“Yes,” Teyla says when Ford is done. “It was.”