Chapter 3/?
Working Title: Surrender by Conquest
Crossover: SGA/Anne Bishop's Blood Realms
Pairing: eventual John/Ronon
Rating: PG-13 for slavery and sexual themes
Author's Note: Knowledge of both universes helpful but not necessary (I think, feel free to contradict in comments).
He wakes up rushing towards the killing edge, fury and rage and a lot of fucking annoyance. Ronon hasn’t survived the army, slave quarters and the courts by being slow in the morning. He can be on his feet and functioning in under a minute. No amount of training or experience is going to make him hate waking up less though.
The sun is up but no one's given him directions on what to do. He's got no idea what time he's expected so he rolls over and sinks deeper into the blankets. He repeats the process one more time before his body is too full of adrenaline to return to sleep. Then he spends some time simply laying there, enjoying the bed, the luxurious blankets and the silence. Notices the room, it's nice. Comfort and pleasure should be savored when available. Possibly this is one of the reasons, Craft skills aside, his owners have never liked him.
By the time someone knocks on the door Ronon’s been awake long enough to be capable of minding his manners. Nothing happens. It takes him a while to realize that whoever is on the other side is waiting for a reply, that in civilized places this is what you do, you knock and wait for a response.
“Come.”
It’s the witch who is a guard, Lieutenant Cadman.
“John had to go talk to Kareen this morning. I though I’d better be the one to get you up to speed, Lorne went with John and Rodney isn’t exactly a people person.” She smiles at him some more. He doesn’t smile back. She is beautiful and confident and he isn’t fond of such women. Not anymore.
“How do you like it here?”
The pause stretches a minute or more. Cadman's smile gets wryer but doesn’t dim.
“That’s a good point. You’ve just gotten here and of course, we’ve only just gotten here ourselves so it’s a stupid question. I guess how you like us makes better sense as a question except you don’t know anyone yet. Rodney you’ll meet later today, he’s dying to question you. He’s conducting a sort of study on Craft and he’s very interested in how this territory uses it. Atlantis is far away and your customs and spells are fascinating to us. He’s a little blunt, a little excitable and kind of all over the place but he really is brilliant so we let him be as condescending as he likes and just laugh at him on the inside. Well, I laugh at him to his face but most people do it on the inside. Would you like to get breakfast?”
There’s a pause as she visibly realizes he’s not dressed.
“I’ll wait downstairs.”
Ronon breathes slowly and tells himself that the girl is not endearing. Then he goes to join Lieutenant Cadman for breakfast and gets a crash course on the delegation from Atlantis.
What Cadman doesn’t say is as instructive as what she does. The delegation from Atlantis is here to study Craft and establish diplomatic relations with Hoath and thus Kareen’s Court. Exactly why a territory two thirds of a Realm away, one he's never heard of before, suddenly needs a relationship with Hoath is a mystery. Apparently Sheppard's been meeting with Kareen and her Steward for weeks now and the negotiations (whatever those are about) are coming to a close.
"We should be out of here in a couple days." Cadman smiles. Friendliness stretched over nerves.
Ronon doesn't like the smile and most of all doesn't like the wrongness here, like having his hair brushed the wrong way, soft and infuriating. Maybe he’s being confused by a witch that's a guard, and a situation he knows so little about.
“How long have you been in Hoath?”
“Five years.”
“You’ve known Kareen all that time?”
“She bought me.”
“She a bitch?”
He doesn’t say anything, it’s safer not to say anything and he’s enjoying the rest too much to actively try and get into trouble. There’s a long pause.
“I don’t like her” she comments, like she’s commenting on a mutual casual acquaintance or a neighbor and not the ruling power for the Territory they're in.
The food is good and there's lots of it so mostly he eats, shoveling in great forkfuls. He's not minding his manners. Better these people know what they're getting right from the start. He's no Court trained whore, not an adornment suitable for drawing rooms, not suitable for much but the killing fields, not while wearing a Ring of Obedience.
“We don’t really plan to stay long.”
“Mm”
“But Rodney is having a great time,” impish smile “and that’s important.”
What the Hells is he supposed to say to that? He slips away at the first opportunity and goes to sit on the roof, it’s high enough and cluttered enough that it’s easy to hide. The weather is mild and the rest and food have been good.
Cadman doesn't like Kareen alright, she doesn't like Hoath, she doesn't like the culture, the food and the weather. Ronon's fairly definite in thinking Cadman wishes Hoath would disapear in a puff of Hellfire. Good enough, Ronon wouldn't mourn that either. But. Ronon knows Hoath, the way he used to know Sateda, the way he knows the people and the Courts and the army and what he is expected to do, what he can do. His life got fucked over seven years ago and he survived it. He's flexible as anything, adaptable as a true survivor, but he doesn't know what he think and feels about a new Territory and new rules except tired, he's so fucking tired.
Eventually Rodney McKay tracks him down and makes him sit in a tiny chair in a tiny room and give a mindnumbingly boring account of Blood ceremonies and Craft.
Crossover: SGA/Anne Bishop's Blood Realms
Pairing: eventual John/Ronon
Rating: PG-13 for slavery and sexual themes
Author's Note: Knowledge of both universes helpful but not necessary (I think, feel free to contradict in comments).
He wakes up rushing towards the killing edge, fury and rage and a lot of fucking annoyance. Ronon hasn’t survived the army, slave quarters and the courts by being slow in the morning. He can be on his feet and functioning in under a minute. No amount of training or experience is going to make him hate waking up less though.
The sun is up but no one's given him directions on what to do. He's got no idea what time he's expected so he rolls over and sinks deeper into the blankets. He repeats the process one more time before his body is too full of adrenaline to return to sleep. Then he spends some time simply laying there, enjoying the bed, the luxurious blankets and the silence. Notices the room, it's nice. Comfort and pleasure should be savored when available. Possibly this is one of the reasons, Craft skills aside, his owners have never liked him.
By the time someone knocks on the door Ronon’s been awake long enough to be capable of minding his manners. Nothing happens. It takes him a while to realize that whoever is on the other side is waiting for a reply, that in civilized places this is what you do, you knock and wait for a response.
“Come.”
It’s the witch who is a guard, Lieutenant Cadman.
“John had to go talk to Kareen this morning. I though I’d better be the one to get you up to speed, Lorne went with John and Rodney isn’t exactly a people person.” She smiles at him some more. He doesn’t smile back. She is beautiful and confident and he isn’t fond of such women. Not anymore.
“How do you like it here?”
The pause stretches a minute or more. Cadman's smile gets wryer but doesn’t dim.
“That’s a good point. You’ve just gotten here and of course, we’ve only just gotten here ourselves so it’s a stupid question. I guess how you like us makes better sense as a question except you don’t know anyone yet. Rodney you’ll meet later today, he’s dying to question you. He’s conducting a sort of study on Craft and he’s very interested in how this territory uses it. Atlantis is far away and your customs and spells are fascinating to us. He’s a little blunt, a little excitable and kind of all over the place but he really is brilliant so we let him be as condescending as he likes and just laugh at him on the inside. Well, I laugh at him to his face but most people do it on the inside. Would you like to get breakfast?”
There’s a pause as she visibly realizes he’s not dressed.
“I’ll wait downstairs.”
Ronon breathes slowly and tells himself that the girl is not endearing. Then he goes to join Lieutenant Cadman for breakfast and gets a crash course on the delegation from Atlantis.
What Cadman doesn’t say is as instructive as what she does. The delegation from Atlantis is here to study Craft and establish diplomatic relations with Hoath and thus Kareen’s Court. Exactly why a territory two thirds of a Realm away, one he's never heard of before, suddenly needs a relationship with Hoath is a mystery. Apparently Sheppard's been meeting with Kareen and her Steward for weeks now and the negotiations (whatever those are about) are coming to a close.
"We should be out of here in a couple days." Cadman smiles. Friendliness stretched over nerves.
Ronon doesn't like the smile and most of all doesn't like the wrongness here, like having his hair brushed the wrong way, soft and infuriating. Maybe he’s being confused by a witch that's a guard, and a situation he knows so little about.
“How long have you been in Hoath?”
“Five years.”
“You’ve known Kareen all that time?”
“She bought me.”
“She a bitch?”
He doesn’t say anything, it’s safer not to say anything and he’s enjoying the rest too much to actively try and get into trouble. There’s a long pause.
“I don’t like her” she comments, like she’s commenting on a mutual casual acquaintance or a neighbor and not the ruling power for the Territory they're in.
The food is good and there's lots of it so mostly he eats, shoveling in great forkfuls. He's not minding his manners. Better these people know what they're getting right from the start. He's no Court trained whore, not an adornment suitable for drawing rooms, not suitable for much but the killing fields, not while wearing a Ring of Obedience.
“We don’t really plan to stay long.”
“Mm”
“But Rodney is having a great time,” impish smile “and that’s important.”
What the Hells is he supposed to say to that? He slips away at the first opportunity and goes to sit on the roof, it’s high enough and cluttered enough that it’s easy to hide. The weather is mild and the rest and food have been good.
Cadman doesn't like Kareen alright, she doesn't like Hoath, she doesn't like the culture, the food and the weather. Ronon's fairly definite in thinking Cadman wishes Hoath would disapear in a puff of Hellfire. Good enough, Ronon wouldn't mourn that either. But. Ronon knows Hoath, the way he used to know Sateda, the way he knows the people and the Courts and the army and what he is expected to do, what he can do. His life got fucked over seven years ago and he survived it. He's flexible as anything, adaptable as a true survivor, but he doesn't know what he think and feels about a new Territory and new rules except tired, he's so fucking tired.
Eventually Rodney McKay tracks him down and makes him sit in a tiny chair in a tiny room and give a mindnumbingly boring account of Blood ceremonies and Craft.