Crossing the Line (PG)
Summary: Ra may have punished Nagada, but Sha'uri isn't ready to abandon her newfound knowledge just yet. Written for gate_women's Beginnings Challenge. An expanded scene from Stargate: the Movie. Just over 1,200 words. Rated PG.
This fic goes nicely with the other Lines stories, which seem to be turning into an impromptu Sha'uri series. Chronologically, this fits after Read Between the Lines and Line in the Sand.
Crossing the Line
The last clean linen was gone, used to staunch bleeding and bind wounds. Sha'uri sent two children running to Areet's stores to replenish the herbs the old wisewoman needed for the living, then left Ka'uwi in solitude to pray over the bodies of the dead.
So many dead.
Homes beat into rubble, their stones crumbled into submission before Ra's power. Fire still flickered in places, smoke drifting to choke the survivors in harsh reminder that even the air they breathed was granted -- or withdrawn -- by the grace of Ra.
Sha'uri's hands curled into fists as she walked through the ruins of Nagada, seeing her father's people so bloodied and bowed.
Ra punished us.
So she had told Skaara, when the boy came stumbling through the dust. Punished for aiding those that bore the symbol of his great Eye? Punished for seeking to please him?
...Punished for seeing the symbols she had shown Danyer, for the secrets painted on walls buried under the weight of years forgotten?
No! Sha'uri would not accept Kasuf's anguished penitence, his conviction they had been wrong to aid Danyer and the other strangers. Nor would she believe that Ra had chosen now, so many seasons after her first sight of those forbidden scrawls, to punish her people for her blasphemy. This was brutal caprice by the... by the creature whose story was laid bare below the catacombs. She would not turn away from what she now knew, from the secrets that Danyer had taught her to decipher!
Ra had once been defeated by slaves that dared rebel against him. Could it not happen again?
Or would she and her people crawl upon their bellies, weeping and abased, abandoning the hidden treasure of knowledge that Ra would deny them?
Sha'uri had told no one that Danyer had rejected her as his bride, and she knew that Kasuf, like Skaara, presumed her grief to be for nothing more than the loss of her new beloved. But Sha'uri mourned a much greater gift than a husband from beyond the stars: she wept for the loss of wisdom that Danyer had granted her. The forbidden scribing that could be translated from symbol to sound and thus to understanding -- it was this that Danyer had taught her, even as she taught him how to take his indecipherable words and mold them into comprehension.
For the space of a few glorious hours, Sha'uri and Danyer had shared speech and understanding. They taught each other much before O'Neer appeared to fetch him away. And now Sha'uri hungered for more -- the knowledge he could have given her, the horizons that stretched even further than the most distant sand dunes. There was more, so much more Danyer could have taught her and her people! How could she just forget the tantalizing glimpse of what lay beyond Nagada's feeble struggles to survive?
She could not. She would not!
Kasuf, she knew, expected her to join him in kneeling prayer, chanting ritual praise to the Kindler of Fire and begging him to show mercy. Instead, she took a torch to light her way and returned to the secret walls beneath the city, where she and Danyer had found proof of Ra's former weakness.
She was still there, carefully examining the forbidden writing painted on the walls, when Skaara found her. She could hear his scuffling, hesitant footsteps echo through the catacombs. He was not alone, either -- there were others with him. Had Kasuf sent him to escort the grieving widow back to Nagada?
"Sha'uri." His voice was low, uncertain, and she turned quickly to face him, to study his smudged face and sorrowed eyes. "Ra has called an assembly..." He swallowed, then added, "An execution."
Whose? she almost asked, but did not. It would not be her, nor Kasuf; if Ra had decreed death upon Nagada's leaders, they would be hanging in chains even now. Her heart leapt at the thought that perhaps some of the strangers yet lived, even if Ra planned to execute them as proof of the need for absolute submission.
She dared not hope that one might be Danyer. It was enough to know that some of them might yet survive. And if her dreams of rebellion were not to die unbirthed, she -- and others -- must act now.
"Skaara," she said abruptly. "Nabeh," she added, seeing her young brother's addled friend among the others that had followed him. "I want you to listen."
The boys paced forward diffidently. She looked at the small group of ragged children and wondered if this could be the army of rebels she so desperately needed.
No matter. They admired the strangers, even if Skaara's fascination with O'Neer owed more to his mysterious tools than the precious knowledge he carried. It would be enough for a beginning.
"We cannot let this happen," she told them. Her back was straight now, her head held high, and all of her own doubts and fears seemed to have vanished. "I want you to know what Danyer told me about where our people came from... and why we can no longer live as slaves."
She held the torch higher, letting its smoky red light fall fully upon the Eye of Ra that was painted on the walls. She showed them the designs: the great Ring they had only known as the place to offer tribute, humans riding Ra's light to his star chariot, the blasphemous drawing of Ra's jackal guards defeated. Here was ancient and undeniable proof that human slaves had once rebelled against Ra... and that only their own ignorance prevented Nagadans from rebelling thus again.
"We know what will take place at the assembly," she said finally, when Skaara's weak and bewildered protests had stammered into silence. "We must prevent it, if we can."
Skaara reached out with trembling, reverent fingers to trace the fallen jackal painted on the stone. "How, Sha'uri?" he breathed. "How can we fight fire weapons with --" His face suddenly brightened, and he spun to grasp Tobay's robes. "The weapons of O'Neer!" he said. "We found many of them in their camp. Could we not use them?"
"As a diversion," Tobay suggested thoughtfully.
"Yes! And lead O'Neer and the others to safety in the confusion!"
Sha'uri considered this, then nodded. "We must be subtle," she cautioned, "so Ra may not suspect."
"Will he not know?" Khaarif said, his voice fearful. "Ra knows all!"
"He does not," Sha'uri said sharply. "He does not even remember this place where we now stand, or he would never allow it to remain. Yet here --" She raised her torch again, letting its light dance upon the forbidden carvings. "Here lies the proof that we need. We must not remain his slaves. We must fight!"
"Yes, yes!" cried Skaara and Tobay together, with Nabeh nodding an eager accord. "We will fight against Ra!"
"Ready O'Neer's weapons, then," Sha'uri instructed them. "First we will rescue the strangers, and then they can advise us how best to rebel."
She still did not know if Danyer yet lived, but no matter. As long as even one of the strangers survived the morning's execution, she and the others of Nagada would be able to learn more -- enough, she hoped, to discover the secret of rebellion that would lead them all to freedom.
This fic goes nicely with the other Lines stories, which seem to be turning into an impromptu Sha'uri series. Chronologically, this fits after Read Between the Lines and Line in the Sand.
Crossing the Line
The last clean linen was gone, used to staunch bleeding and bind wounds. Sha'uri sent two children running to Areet's stores to replenish the herbs the old wisewoman needed for the living, then left Ka'uwi in solitude to pray over the bodies of the dead.
So many dead.
Homes beat into rubble, their stones crumbled into submission before Ra's power. Fire still flickered in places, smoke drifting to choke the survivors in harsh reminder that even the air they breathed was granted -- or withdrawn -- by the grace of Ra.
Sha'uri's hands curled into fists as she walked through the ruins of Nagada, seeing her father's people so bloodied and bowed.
Ra punished us.
So she had told Skaara, when the boy came stumbling through the dust. Punished for aiding those that bore the symbol of his great Eye? Punished for seeking to please him?
...Punished for seeing the symbols she had shown Danyer, for the secrets painted on walls buried under the weight of years forgotten?
No! Sha'uri would not accept Kasuf's anguished penitence, his conviction they had been wrong to aid Danyer and the other strangers. Nor would she believe that Ra had chosen now, so many seasons after her first sight of those forbidden scrawls, to punish her people for her blasphemy. This was brutal caprice by the... by the creature whose story was laid bare below the catacombs. She would not turn away from what she now knew, from the secrets that Danyer had taught her to decipher!
Ra had once been defeated by slaves that dared rebel against him. Could it not happen again?
Or would she and her people crawl upon their bellies, weeping and abased, abandoning the hidden treasure of knowledge that Ra would deny them?
Sha'uri had told no one that Danyer had rejected her as his bride, and she knew that Kasuf, like Skaara, presumed her grief to be for nothing more than the loss of her new beloved. But Sha'uri mourned a much greater gift than a husband from beyond the stars: she wept for the loss of wisdom that Danyer had granted her. The forbidden scribing that could be translated from symbol to sound and thus to understanding -- it was this that Danyer had taught her, even as she taught him how to take his indecipherable words and mold them into comprehension.
For the space of a few glorious hours, Sha'uri and Danyer had shared speech and understanding. They taught each other much before O'Neer appeared to fetch him away. And now Sha'uri hungered for more -- the knowledge he could have given her, the horizons that stretched even further than the most distant sand dunes. There was more, so much more Danyer could have taught her and her people! How could she just forget the tantalizing glimpse of what lay beyond Nagada's feeble struggles to survive?
She could not. She would not!
Kasuf, she knew, expected her to join him in kneeling prayer, chanting ritual praise to the Kindler of Fire and begging him to show mercy. Instead, she took a torch to light her way and returned to the secret walls beneath the city, where she and Danyer had found proof of Ra's former weakness.
She was still there, carefully examining the forbidden writing painted on the walls, when Skaara found her. She could hear his scuffling, hesitant footsteps echo through the catacombs. He was not alone, either -- there were others with him. Had Kasuf sent him to escort the grieving widow back to Nagada?
"Sha'uri." His voice was low, uncertain, and she turned quickly to face him, to study his smudged face and sorrowed eyes. "Ra has called an assembly..." He swallowed, then added, "An execution."
Whose? she almost asked, but did not. It would not be her, nor Kasuf; if Ra had decreed death upon Nagada's leaders, they would be hanging in chains even now. Her heart leapt at the thought that perhaps some of the strangers yet lived, even if Ra planned to execute them as proof of the need for absolute submission.
She dared not hope that one might be Danyer. It was enough to know that some of them might yet survive. And if her dreams of rebellion were not to die unbirthed, she -- and others -- must act now.
"Skaara," she said abruptly. "Nabeh," she added, seeing her young brother's addled friend among the others that had followed him. "I want you to listen."
The boys paced forward diffidently. She looked at the small group of ragged children and wondered if this could be the army of rebels she so desperately needed.
No matter. They admired the strangers, even if Skaara's fascination with O'Neer owed more to his mysterious tools than the precious knowledge he carried. It would be enough for a beginning.
"We cannot let this happen," she told them. Her back was straight now, her head held high, and all of her own doubts and fears seemed to have vanished. "I want you to know what Danyer told me about where our people came from... and why we can no longer live as slaves."
She held the torch higher, letting its smoky red light fall fully upon the Eye of Ra that was painted on the walls. She showed them the designs: the great Ring they had only known as the place to offer tribute, humans riding Ra's light to his star chariot, the blasphemous drawing of Ra's jackal guards defeated. Here was ancient and undeniable proof that human slaves had once rebelled against Ra... and that only their own ignorance prevented Nagadans from rebelling thus again.
"We know what will take place at the assembly," she said finally, when Skaara's weak and bewildered protests had stammered into silence. "We must prevent it, if we can."
Skaara reached out with trembling, reverent fingers to trace the fallen jackal painted on the stone. "How, Sha'uri?" he breathed. "How can we fight fire weapons with --" His face suddenly brightened, and he spun to grasp Tobay's robes. "The weapons of O'Neer!" he said. "We found many of them in their camp. Could we not use them?"
"As a diversion," Tobay suggested thoughtfully.
"Yes! And lead O'Neer and the others to safety in the confusion!"
Sha'uri considered this, then nodded. "We must be subtle," she cautioned, "so Ra may not suspect."
"Will he not know?" Khaarif said, his voice fearful. "Ra knows all!"
"He does not," Sha'uri said sharply. "He does not even remember this place where we now stand, or he would never allow it to remain. Yet here --" She raised her torch again, letting its light dance upon the forbidden carvings. "Here lies the proof that we need. We must not remain his slaves. We must fight!"
"Yes, yes!" cried Skaara and Tobay together, with Nabeh nodding an eager accord. "We will fight against Ra!"
"Ready O'Neer's weapons, then," Sha'uri instructed them. "First we will rescue the strangers, and then they can advise us how best to rebel."
She still did not know if Danyer yet lived, but no matter. As long as even one of the strangers survived the morning's execution, she and the others of Nagada would be able to learn more -- enough, she hoped, to discover the secret of rebellion that would lead them all to freedom.