Inflorescence, Teyla/Sora, PG
Title: Inflorescence
Author: latentfunction
Rating:PG
Pairing: Teyla/Sora
Spoilers: Written with knowledge up to 403, but nothing specific.
Word Count: ~ 6500.
Written For: bluflamingo
Prompt: Pre-Atlantis, Pegasus outlook on life, flowers.
Author's Notes: Thanks to anamart for the beta.
Summary: I have known you for most of your life.
The gate's field was full of early blooms. A young woman stood near the path into the village with a basket of flowers. As the gate disengaged, she smiled and took a few steps towards Tagan and his family. They walked to her as well and met each other halfway.
"Tagan, Jallen." She dipped a small curtsy, which Teyla's parents both returned before pressing their foreheads to hers.
"Lareka," Tagan said, and smiled. "Your family is well?"
"Yes, thank you." Lareka looked at Teyla, who smiled hesitantly. "Surely your daughter isn't ready to come of age yet?"
Jallen put one hand on Teyla's back and urged her slightly forward. Teyla took a small step towards Lareka and bowed her head. Lareka tilted her own head to one side and flicked her skirts.
"There is still much time before Teyla is of age," Jallen said. "But she has began to attend ceremonial functions."
"We are honored to have you, Teyla." Lareka pulled a thick-stemmed flower from her basket and offered it to Teyla.
She took it and smiled. "Thank you." Teyla raised the flower to her face. Behind her, Jallen cleared her throat softly. When Teyla glanced up, her mother nodded towards Lareka. Teyla frowned for a moment, then her eyes widened and she turned to face Lareka again. "I am honored to be here," she added quickly.
Jallen smiled as she took her own flower. Teyla smelled her flower as she watched her parents. Its white petals had barely pulled apart, and its scent was strongest when she nudged her nose into the tip.
"Will you be attending the ceremony?" Tagan tucked his flower into the leather belt at his waist. Jallen slid her stem down her vest until the petals beaked between her breasts. Teyla glanced down at her simple dress. The thin leather cord at her waist didn't look strong enough to hold the weight of the flower. After she put it in place, she pressed the stem against the back of the leg furthest from Lareka.
"Once all the off-world parties arrive, I will." Lareka shifted the basket from hand to hand as she spoke. "To be honest, I'd rather have this duty than most back in the village. There's always so much rush and worry just before a ceremony."
Lareka smiled at Teyla's family again. Nothing seemed different than the rest of the conversation, but Jallen put one hand into the crook of Tagan's arm and gestured towards the village with her other.
"We shall see you there, then." Teyla's parents both nodded at Lareka and began walking towards the settlement. Teyla hesitated a moment and looked between her family and Lareka, who was watching her with slightly raised eyebrows.
Teyla took a step down the path as well, then stopped and faced Lareka. "Thank you for the flower," she said, and then followed her parents. She was careful to keep the flower out of Lareka's path of sight, careful to take cautious steps in her formal dress, careful to hold her head steady as she walked.
Her parents only had a few moments head start, but the gate was lost to a curve in the path by the time Teyla caught up with them. Without looking behind her, Jallen released Tagan's arm and moved slightly away from him. Teyla stepped into the gap and nudged a shoulder against each parent in turn. She moved the flower to her other hand and wiped her palm, slightly sweaty, on her skirt.
The walk to the village calmed Teyla somewhat, but her uncertainty sprung back when the buildings came into view. It seemed that everyone was in the crowd in the settlement’s square. Teyla held on to her mother’s skirt as they approached, and tried to make sense of the situation.
She knew that three children had been born to the Genii since the last naming. Through gaps in the crowd, Teyla saw the mothers sitting back to back in the center of the village. Each woman held her baby in one arm and a thick bouquet of flowers in the other. The crowd moved slowly around them.
As her parents exchanged pleasantries with some of the Genii elders, Teyla watched a boy, about her own age, with a flower in hand. He skipped once around the edge of the crowd, waving his flower above his head, and then began to edge his way towards the center. The circles he walked around the mothers grew gradually smaller. Although he never seemed to make way for others in the crowd, his path was also never blocked.
When he reached the women, he hovered in front of the one facing Teyla. A man was already standing in front of her. They spoke for a few moments while the boy bounced in place, then the man placed his hand gently on the baby's head. He bowed his head briefly, as did the mother. When the man pulled his hand away, she smiled and offered him her armful of flowers. He took one, bowed, and stepped back into the crowd.
The boy moved forward and peered at the baby. The mother smiled as she looked between his face and that of her own child. She nodded and spoke, and the boy touched the infant's head lightly. When he lifted it away, the woman smiled again, and then nodded to her flowers. The boy selected one and ran back into the people without glancing behind him. The mother shook her head as she watched him dart through the crowd, a flower in each hand, and then turned her attention to a young woman approaching.
Teyla studied the full crowd again. She saw now that the people came from the outer edges and worked their way towards the small group of women. They smiled and spoke to people they passed, but most moved alone. Small children went with parents or older siblings, and a young man with a bandaged foot moved with the help of crutches and a friend, but everyone else kept to themselves.
"What do we say to the children?" Teyla asked as they moved towards the crowd. Above her, her parents met each other's eyes and nodded. "Is it a blessing?"
"It is similar to a blessing," Jallen said. "You tell the mother you are thankful for her health and that of her child. You wish them both many years of safety. If you wish, you may suggest a name for the child."
"But the mother may have one in mind already," Tagan added.
Teyla nodded slowly. She chewed her lower lip a few times before realizing what she was doing. She released it. "Are the children male or female?"
"All female this season. The Genii have been blessed with many daughters recently." Tagan slowed as they reached the crowd and placed one hand lightly on Teyla's shoulder. She glanced up and saw the smile hiding in the lines around his eyes and mouth. "Shall we begin?"
Teyla nodded. She stepped away from her family and moved into the circling crowd. Jallen entered after her, moving in the opposite direction, then Tagan followed Teyla's path.
Teyla was not yet old enough for a ceremonial gown a bright as the crimson her mother wore. Her deep blue dress was still more colorful than anything worn by the Genii, many of whom seemed to be in their usual clothes. However, the women had braided flowers into their hair, and into the lacings of the dresses; the men tucked blooms into every buttonhole and frequently behind each ear. Their cheeks shone pink in scrubbed faces, and the fingers wrapped around stems and leaves were clean and bright.
As Teyla wove among them, the Genii greeted her as they did their own people. Her formal smile slid into one of enjoyment as she passed the villagers--children in practical clothing and wide smiles, men with trimmed beards and petals in their hair, other visiting dignitaries in festive costumes. Teyla's mother was regal and commanding as she paused to press hands and foreheads; her father was lean and elegant, observing silently.
Teyla took the careful, graceful steps dictated by her skirt. Ties at the sides would break away if she needed to run; the intact laces showed her trust in her surroundings. The sounds of the crowd melded into a steady sound, a heartbeat, and she understood why the women in the center were not overwhelmed with their well-wishers. The community as a whole was vital, yet still as delicate as the newborns it welcomed.
She greeted the girls at random. When Teyla first found herself near the center of the crowd, only one woman had no visitor. She met Teyla's gaze and smiled encouragingly. Teyla drew a deep breath, as she had been taught, but found it unnecessary: she felt no anxiety. It was a simple thing to lay her hand on the child's silky brown hair, to bless the baby and the mother, and to take a flower with many pale petals. Teyla tucked the stem into her belt, alongside the flower from the gate. She fingered the blossoms gently as she wound her way back out, and back in.
The second girl slept with her nose pressed between her mother's breasts. She didn't stir when Teyla touched her, nor when she withdrew her hand. The flower from her mother was thickly covered in leaves, and left a powerful scent in Teyla's wake.
The third daughter, a girl with tightly curling fair hair, was awake when Teyla approached. She was the eldest of the three children, and opened and closed her fist on the folds of her mother's dress as she nursed.
"I am glad for your health, and the health of your child," Teyla said. The words came easily with practice, and with hearing them constantly spoken around her.
The woman smiled. "Thank you."
"And I wish you both many days of safety." The baby's hair was springy and soft. Teyla could feel the child's pulse under her palm.
"May it be so." The mother inclined her head towards the flowers in the crook of her other arm. "Take a flower with my thanks."
Teyla stroked the girl's forehead once with her thumb before pulling away and taking a flower--bright blue petals around a yellow center. She slid it under her belt. When she glanced back, Teyla saw the baby had pulled slightly away from her mother and was looking towards the crowd. Teyla leaned in for a closer look.
"Her eyes!" she said, and looked back towards the woman. "They're so blue!"
The mother smiled and tipped her arm slightly towards Teyla. The child focused slowly on Teyla's hairline. Teyla smiled widely.
"May I suggest a name?" she asked, then frowned slightly. "Or can I not, after I have the flower?"
"You still can," said the woman. "There's no time limit."
"On Athos, in summer, we have a flower the same color as her eyes." Teyla wove her head slowly from side to side, and glanced up excitedly when the baby followed her. "They are close to this color," and she pointed to the flower, "but not as dark. These are almost purple, and the ones I mean are just blue."
"These are close to purple," the woman agreed. She brought her baby back against her, but kept her elbow down so the girl could still watch Teyla. "What are yours called?"
"We call them sora," Teyla said. She touched the girl's cheek, soft and warm, and smiled. "And they are very beautiful."
---
"Go!" Tortin leaned his head against the wall of his house, closed his eyes, and began to count in a monotone. The group of children gathered around him scattered.
Teyla headed out of the village, towards the woods. The woods themselves were strictly off-limits, but the brush between the trees and the fields had not been mentioned. She would hide there and watch. Once Tortin began to look in the fields, she planned to sneak behind him and return to his house, to declare herself safe.
Some of the Genii children ran in the same direction as Teyla, but gradually each one went a different way. When Teyla was alone, she ducked into the tall grass and started crawling towards the forest. She settled behind a thick bush and rested her chin on her knees, watching the town.
Tortin spent much of his time searching the village. Teyla saw the children there run as he approached their hiding places. After going around the buildings she could see, he moved to the far part of the settlement. She winced and rearranged herself to a more comfortable position. It would be less safe to show herself unless she knew where he was.
Some of the Genii children in the field began to move closer to the village. A bird landed in the grass, ate some flowers from a nearby plant, and then flew away. A cloud passed in front of the sun. When it moved away, Teyla tried to gauge how much time had passed, but could not.
She began to consider moving when she heard people coming from the field, towards the village. Teyla ducked back down and looked through the bush.
Two Genii women and a young girl walked along the path. One woman held a basket in each hand; the other carried a hoe over her shoulder. The girl had blonde curls and was about as tall as her mother's waist. Every few steps, she leaped forward.
As they approached Teyla's hiding spot, she could hear their conversation.
"Don't you worry, though, about being exposed like this, living here?" the woman with the baskets asked the other.
She shook her head. "I try not to think about it. We do need people here, to work the land."
"I suppose." The first woman nodded slowly. Teyla held her breath as they passed directly in front of her. "I worry about the children all the time."
"So do I! I think that's the nature of children, though. If we worked that long without Sora eating something she found on the ground, I wouldn't believe it. She's always into something, and Tyrus encourages her."
"What is he working on these days?"
Teyla couldn't hear the response. Once the Genii were out of sight, she crept from the brush and began to work her way through the field. Perhaps she could make it to the safe-base while Tortin was away, after all.
---
After the first meal of the day, Teyla gathered young branches from the surrounding woods. She spent much of the morning seated in front of her family's tent stripping them of bark and soaking them in water.
For the midday meal, she accompanied her mother to visit with Charin. They sang Anthelo after eating. Although Teyla took care to listen (she knew the tale of Anthel and her favorite hunting grounds, but often forgot the parts containing her lovers), she also arranged herself so she was facing the way through the village.
As they walked back to their home, Teyla carried the empty food baskets tied in a square of striped fabric. The afternoon sun pushed shadows over the path. Jallen hummed soft snatches of song, and Teyla swung her bundle in time.
"We will know when the party arrives," Jallen said as they came into view of the tent. "The scouts will send word when the gate is dialed."
"I know," Teyla said. She shifted the bundle to her midsection and wrapped both arms around it. "I am merely excited."
Jallen nodded. She held the tent flap open and Teyla ducked through before her. Jallen took the baskets from Teyla and unwrapped them once she was inside.
"When was the last time you saw the Genii?" She asked. She knelt near the tent's wall and placed the baskets inside a series of larger ones. Teyla shrugged out of her light jacket and went to her mother's side. She collected the lining cloths and took them to the fire, then snapped them out over the flames.
"When we were trading with the Llerrum," Teyla said. "I took a meal with the novices at the sanctuary while the rest of the party spoke with the Elders of the Belt."
"And you saw Genii there?"
Teyla nodded. "A few of the children were studying at the sanctuary, to learn to weave as the Llerrum do."
Jallen stood and crossed once more to the tent flap. Outside, the light angled through the trees.
"Come outside," she said. "We will begin stripping the hides while we wait."
Teyla and her mother settled on narrow cushions as they scraped fur from the hides. Teyla explained the spiritual significance of cloth to the Llerrum, and how the threads support each other much as the spirits and the people are interconnected. Jallen then told her about the different types of fabric worn in the life of a Llerrum: the delicate weave of infancy, the durable cloth of manual workers, the long fringed shawls wrapped around those newly betrothed.
The sun nearly sat by the time a pair of boys came running up the path. They stopped in front of Teyla's tent.
"The Genii party has come through," said the elder of the pair. He spoke to Jallen, but his gaze flicked on to Teyla before he continued. "They have a gift for your daughter's ceremony."
Teyla clenched her teeth to keep from smiling. Next to her, Jallen nodded.
"Thank you, Jarb," Jallen said, then rose and went inside. The boys headed further into the village When Teyla went in, her mother was scrubbing her hands and face with fine sand from a box near the fire. Teyla joined her.
"It is hard to learn patience," Jallen said while Teyla cleaned herself. "But it is an important lesson. Hiding, and waiting, can be as necessary as fighting." Teyla glanced up: her mother's eyes were soft. She straightened Teyla's bodice and continued. "This is why we need the consent of our allies before declaring our children adults. You must learn to be patient."
Teyla nodded and looked away. "I am trying."
"And you are doing well," Jallen said. "You did not speak of your wishes. I only knew them because I know you." She leaned her forehead against Teyla's, and they smiled at each other after pulling away.
"Now, we will greet our guests," she said. They left the tent, and walked side by side towards the gate.
The Genii carried cloaks over their arms in expectation of the evening's coming chill. Two women and two men walked along the path, and four children chased each other through the grass on either side. The youngest child, a boy with pale brown hair, waved his arms above his head when he saw Jallen and Teyla. He started to run towards them, but stopped and returned slowly to one of the women. She scooped him into her arms and onto her hip. He laid his head on her shoulder and listened as she spoke into his ear.
She placed him back on the ground once the groups met. He stayed near her skirts as they greeted each other.
"We welcome you to Athos," Teyla's mother said. She touched foreheads with each of the adults as they introduced themselves: Engel and her son Annit, Ladek and his son Bruden, Tyrus and Sora, and Craed and her daughter Moyed. Teyla thought on the symbolism of the group: hope and balance, the future generations. She nodded to the children and greeted the adults in turn.
The children spoke over each other as they walked back to the village. Teyla, holding hands with Sora and Bruden, asked prompting questions but cast her attention to the adults behind them. They discussed the Genii plantings and the Athosian hunts, though neither in detail. Both were progressing as expected. Teyla's shoulders loosened as she walked, and she smiled and joked with the children.
The ceremony of assent was simple enough. After five previous blessings, Teyla knew her part well. She stopped just short of entering the village and sat cross-legged in the center of the path. The rest of the party continued without her. Once they were out of her sight, Teyla heard her mother call three times in the tongue of the Ancestors.
Come to see, to bless, Teyla translated silently. The noise of a crowd built quickly, and grew louder as they began to approach. She smoothed her skirt over her legs and placed her palms on her thighs.
Jallen led the crowd, carrying a wreath of dried flowers in front of her chest. The Genii children and parents walked on either side of her, and the Athosians followed behind. Teyla allowed her lips to curve very slightly upwards.
The crowd stopped about fifteen paces away. Jallen and the Genii came forward until they split this difference. Teyla watched her mother and did not move or speak until Jallen inclined her head slightly.
"I am Teyla Emmagen," she said then, "daughter of Tagan. I have lived as a girl, and wish to live as a woman."
"Athosians!" Jallen called. Her voice rang in the hush. "Is this child ready to act as an adult among us?"
"She is," the crowd responded. With many men hunting, their combined voice was higher than usual.
"Partners of our people," Jallen said. The Genii children turned to look at her. "Will you accept Teyla as you accept us all?"
"We will."
The youngest boy merely nodded until Sora poked him in the side, when he cried, "Alright, I will, too!" The crowd murmured softly.
"Rise, then," Jallen said, a smile in her voice. Teyla tightened her legs and stood smoothly. As five times before, Jallen walked to meet her. She touched her forehead to Teyla's and pushed the wreath into her hands.
"I am proud of you," Jallen whispered as she pulled away. Teyla smiled at her and Jallen stepped beside her. She wrapped one arm around Teyla's waist and they faced the people together.
"Our people and our partners agree," she called. "After the hunters return, Teyla will be confirmed among us!"
"The crowd cheered, and Teyla's face broke into a happy smile. At a nudge from her mother, she raised the wreath briefly above her head. A single petal, delicate and fragrant, fell into the hair near her temple. Teyla did not notice it until late that night, though she smelled it often during the celebration.
---
Trading needed to continue, but Teyla asked her father if she might remain on Athos for a while. He frowned at her request, but granted it.
When the party left, carrying leather to the Genii in exchange for grain, Teyla took her sticks into the woods. She pushed herself, spinning and lunging in solitude, until her body was loose and sore. Exertion brought the possibility of rest along with the peace of meditation.
Her family's fire had almost burned out when she returned to the settlement. Teyla added fresh wood carefully until their tent was light again. She prepared a meal for herself in the bowl that had been her mother's, and ate in front of the flames. She flicked bits of food, wastefully, into the fire. They flashed brightly before disappearing, a harmless culling without a beam.
The tent was silent by herself. Teyla banked the fire and put the bowl away. It was near, but out of sight. She wrapped her blankets around herself and could not sleep.
---
In a break between songs, Teyla bowed to her partner and backed quickly away. He bowed in return and went searching among the crowd before the music began again.
Teyla turned and made her way out of the square. The musicians and dancers were well-lit in the center of the village. A table of food and another with beer and water stood in the dimmer light at the edge of the gathering. The Genii not dancing sat in chairs lining the festival's boundaries. Some talked amongst themselves. Some kept watch over various groups of children playing near the outer dancers. Some kept their hands busy. Two young women, one great with child and the other with a newborn strapped to her back, plucked the petals from a pile of flowers. Occasionally, they gestured with a stem to the dancers. Teyla smiled to them as she passed. They smiled and nodded back to her; scent from their basket followed her as she walked into the night.
The houses she passed were all dark. Almost everyone in the village went to the planting ceremony at sunset and stayed for dancing and food. Those who returned home instead were already in bed for the night.
After passing the final house, Teyla stopped and unlaced her new boots. The leather felt supple enough when she dressed on Athos, but the evening's dance proved to be more than she expected. Teyla rubbed gingerly at the tender skin along her smallest toes and on the ridge of her left heel. It was all slightly warm to the touch, but unbroken. She tied the laces in a loose knot and slung the boots over her shoulder. The cool grass soothed her feet as she walked.
The melody faded away as she left the village. The moon was full and lit the path she followed to the stream. She walked next to freshly plowed fields of rich soil, and then through low brush that led into the forest. Rustlings in the plants paused until she passed.
Once the water was in sight, the path curved around a steep rock formation before widening into a clearing at the bank. A collection of rough stones rested in the water, close to the edge, and a young woman furiously scrubbed a piece of fabric against one.
Teyla paused, frowning, and looked behind her. No one had followed her. Glancing around, she and the Genii girl seemed to be alone. She had no other laundry. Teyla cleared her throat loudly, but she did not stop working.
Teyla drug her bare feet as noisily as she could as she approached the girl, but she still did not turn away. Her pale hair shone in the moonlight.
"Sora?" Teyla lightly touched her on the shoulder.
Sora jumped. In turning to face Teyla, her hand slipped on the wet fabric and she fell sideways towards the water. Teyla's hand tightened on her shoulder and she pulled Sora back towards the bank. They both teetered on the damp edge for a moment, until Teyla rocked onto her heels. She thrust her elbows back and their weight shifted away from the stream. Teyla followed through with the movement and sank to the ground.
Sora's mouth and deep eyes were wide in surprise. A ringlet fell free next to her face. She and Teyla held each other's gaze in silence until a bird called behind them. Sora then looked away and tugged her shoulder from Teyla's grip. Teyla let her go easily.
Sora pressed her lips together and turned back towards the water. She still clutched wet fabric in one hand. What Teyla could see of it was white, and edged with lace.
"I didn't think anyone noticed I was gone," Sora said. "You startled me." She began scrubbing again. Her shoulders shook very slightly.
Teyla rearranged her legs underneath herself. "I apologize. That was not my intention."
Sora's head twitched back, towards Teyla, but she stopped herself before facing her.
"I came to soak my feet in the water," Teyla continued. "Do you mind if I sit next to you?"
Sora held her breath for a moment. When she exhaled, her head fell slightly towards her chest. "You should sit upstream from me," she said softly, and nodded to her left.
Teyla rose with more motion than usual, so that the leather of her skirt creaked and rubbed noisily against itself. She hung her boots from a branch at the edge of the clearing, rustling the leaves as she came and went. A cloud passed before the moon as she sat with Sora. When it moved away, Teyla caught a glimpse of Sora's work without turning her head in that direction. Part of the white fabric was stained red.
Teyla gasped, then winced. She hoped it had been a quiet gasp. Sora held herself stiffly over the rock as she scrubbed. Teyla frowned but then continued to study Sora. The hem of her skirt was dirty and wrinkled, and her face was flushed with exertion, but her eyes were dry.
She took a breath to speak, then hesitated and let it out. She tried to think of something to say, but nothing sounded right. When a girl is a certain age--that was belittling. If you keep a record of the moon--but perhaps the Genii moon did not predict a woman's courses as did the Athosian moon.
Before my mother was culled--but then Teyla did not want to speak of that.
Next to her, Sora sighed.
"Please don't try to make me feel better," she said. "I know what's happening to me. I just want to get the stain out before it sets."
Teyla leaned closer to the water, which ran refreshingly over her feet. Sora frowned at Teyla and moved her work further away. Teyla frowned in return and leaned back. She stretched out on the grass and looked up through the branches. The stars were different than at home, but she could recognize a few of the more similar groupings.
"If you let that sit in the sun," she said finally, "the light will help fade the stain."
Sora straightened and let her hands fall into her lap. She looked at the fabric and then set it aside. "It will?"
Teyla glanced at Sora. The other girl met her eyes after a while. Teyla smiled and nodded as best she could. "It is what I do."
---
Sora and the eight others coming of age this spring stepped back as the next year's children came forward. They carried armloads of barley and hops to the front of the crowd. The tall grass brushed the hems of their clothing as they walked--short skirts, short trousers. The new adults took the plants and placed them into a row of empty barrels.
"Next year," they said as a group, "this will be drink."
"Next year," replied the children (four boys and four girls, all but one fidgeting), "we will drink with you."
Teyla watched as both groups bowed and curtsied to each other. The youths then returned to the crowd and stood with their families. A few men turned the barrels on their sides and rolled them away. Over the next year, the children and their families would brew their own beer.
Martah stepped in front of the crowd once more. She nodded to the group of young people and they separated. Each moved to stand behind one barrel in the semicircle that faced the crowd. A glass stein surrounded by flowers shone atop each barrel.
"Genii!" Martah said with a smile. She raised a glass above her head. The sun twinkled through it. "These are your people! Will you accept them?”
“Yes!” Teyla responded with the entire crowd. Everyone thrust their own glass into the air-chipped ceramic mugs, thin metal cups, shallow wooden bowls. The group to be confirmed closed one hand around their steins and watched Martah closely.
“Then we drink!” she cried. The crowd cheered as the new adults pumped their glasses into the air once. Hands fell back to their sides as the young men and women then swept the flowers onto the grass. Teyla was among those who helped lift the barrels onto tables, and strap them down to prevent rolling.
The crowd milled as the adults came forward. Each newly accepted man or woman was the first to drink from their barrel. After finishing their own beer, though, they served whoever came to them.
Teyla’s cup was filled again and again. She received only a few swallows from each barrel, but the people around her went quickly from one table to the next. Their enthusiasm moved her along.
Sora’s barrel was Teyla’s last stop. Her blonde curls fell around her face, and a pink flower behind one ear matched the flush on her cheeks.
“The Athosians send our congratulations,” Teyla said.
“Thank you,” Sora said. “I’m glad you came.” Her fingers traced over Teyla’s as she took the glass. The scent of flowers, crushed underfoot, mingled with the heady beer, the clean sweat of the crowd. Sora snapped the spigot closed when Teyla’s glass was half-full and offered it back. Sora’s smile was wide and her eyes shone.
Teyla’s thumb brushed Sora’s when she took the beer. Sora’s eyes widened slightly. She glanced away, looking around the crowd, and then looked at Teyla through her eyelashes.
Teyla smiled slightly. She placed her glass on the table and wrapped her fingers around Sora’s upper arms. Sora smiled and inclined her head to meet Teyla’s forehead. She touched Teyla’s elbows and lightly slid her hands up, into place near her body.
Sora’s breath came light and rapid through her nose. Teyla pressed her hands into Sora’s arms and held herself still until her breathing calmed slightly. She kept the contact a moment longer before straightening.
“I would like to see you after the meal,” Sora said.
Teyla took her glass and sipped. She raised her eyebrows at Sora over the edge; Sora flushed slightly but did not look away.
“We won’t be adults until tomorrow morning,” Sora continued, gesturing to the others at barrels around them, “not really. Tonight is the most freedom I’ll ever have.”
“Perhaps we will find each other,” Teyla allowed. She raised her glass towards Sora’s barrel and smiled. “This is very good beer.” She walked into the crowd without looking behind her; she did smile, though.
The eight young men and women served their beer, their gift to the community, until everyone of age sampled each barrel. Afterwards, the crowds drew their own drink. Rotating crews of men and women served food from one long table. Chairs were moved aside and the evening’s bonfire was lit after the sun began to sink. When the music started, fire-lit dancers flew in concentric circles around the flames, around each other.
Teyla danced for a while, and then watched from the edge of the light. The village was before her, beyond the celebration, and the field was behind her. The chirping of insects mingled with the music. She heard Sora approach, though the other woman moved in near silence.
She tied her curls at the nape of her neck since Teyla saw her last. She held the flower from her ear in one hand, and toyed with the petals with the other. Teyla watched her from the corner of her eyes until Sora stood beside her, then turned.
“Will you walk with me?” Sora asked quickly, before Teyla could speak. She looked out to the field. “The moon is very bright.”
Teyla studied Sora’s face-she worried her bottom lip between her teeth, frowned very slightly-and then nodded. They left the golden celebration and headed silently towards the fields and forests, washed in cool blue light.
“What do you think about secrets?” Sora asked as they walked alongside the first field. She walked in the grass just beside the plowed dirt. “Is it alright to keep things from people who are important to you?”
“That is an interesting question,” Teyla began, hesitating, uncertain. “Sometimes we must keep secrets in order to survive.
Sora shook her head quickly. "Not the biggest secrets. I don’t mean secrets like those we keep from the Wraith." She looked at the ground and stopped walking. Teyla paused as well, and ducked her head to peer at Sora’s face. "I mean more personal things."
"I think," Teyla touched Sora’s arm; Sora glanced up at her with wide eyes, "that much depends on the person, and the thing you are ke-"
She broke off when Sora straightened and pressed their mouths together. It was a clumsy kiss; they both had their eyes open, and Sora did not move once they were touching. When Sora froze, Teyla pulled her hand from Sora’s arm and stepped backwards. She pressed her lips together and carefully did not touch them.
"This is your first time to have beer?" Teyla asked. The drink was heavy on Sora's breath.
"I’m sorry," Sora said quickly. She turned away from Teyla and looked back towards the village. Teyla turned to face her; from a distance, the bonfire was small. "Perhaps I misunderstood things-we don’t drink before we’re of age, and maybe I-"
"Sora." Teyla stepped next to her, but did not look at her face. Sora fell silent. "I am your friend. You do not need to explain yourself."
"But I--" Sora stopped herself and then began again. "I've been thinking about this, and now I ruined it."
"Not necessarily," Teyla said slowly. "I have no other obligations, and the next time our people trade, you and I could--"
"No." Sora shook her head miserably. "It has to be tonight. I start to work tomorrow, real work, and I can't have any distractions." She wrapped her arms tightly around herself and glanced briefly at Teyla. "You would distract me," she said softly.
"Your work is important." Teyla looked down at the rich soil next to them. She did not think it was as consuming as Sora implied, but perhaps she did not know the full extent of the labor. "People on many worlds depend on your crops."
Sora laughed bitterly. "The crops," she said, shaking her head. "Of course."
"Perhaps I should return to the celebration," Teyla said after a silence. "Would you--"
"Are you sure, Teyla?" Sora blurted. She turned to face Teyla and released her arms, stretched one hand out to her. "I know what I'm asking. I am a woman tonight, remember?"
Teyla shook her head and stepped backwards, towards the village. "You are a woman tomorrow," she reminded Sora, "and a new one, at that. This cannot happen tonight, for me. I will not take advantage."
"But it can only be tonight, for me."
"Then I am sorry," Teyla said. "If that is the case, this cannot be."
"Fine." Sora crossed her arms again and looked over the fields. Teyla could only see her hair in the moonlight. "Thank you for coming to my ceremony. I trust you can find your way back to the bonfire."
Teyla sighed at the resent in Sora's voice, but she turned to the village. "Many blessings in your adulthood," she called over her shoulder.
Sora did not reply; Teyla started down towards the village, and the gate, and her home.
Author: latentfunction
Rating:PG
Pairing: Teyla/Sora
Spoilers: Written with knowledge up to 403, but nothing specific.
Word Count: ~ 6500.
Written For: bluflamingo
Prompt: Pre-Atlantis, Pegasus outlook on life, flowers.
Author's Notes: Thanks to anamart for the beta.
Summary: I have known you for most of your life.
The gate's field was full of early blooms. A young woman stood near the path into the village with a basket of flowers. As the gate disengaged, she smiled and took a few steps towards Tagan and his family. They walked to her as well and met each other halfway.
"Tagan, Jallen." She dipped a small curtsy, which Teyla's parents both returned before pressing their foreheads to hers.
"Lareka," Tagan said, and smiled. "Your family is well?"
"Yes, thank you." Lareka looked at Teyla, who smiled hesitantly. "Surely your daughter isn't ready to come of age yet?"
Jallen put one hand on Teyla's back and urged her slightly forward. Teyla took a small step towards Lareka and bowed her head. Lareka tilted her own head to one side and flicked her skirts.
"There is still much time before Teyla is of age," Jallen said. "But she has began to attend ceremonial functions."
"We are honored to have you, Teyla." Lareka pulled a thick-stemmed flower from her basket and offered it to Teyla.
She took it and smiled. "Thank you." Teyla raised the flower to her face. Behind her, Jallen cleared her throat softly. When Teyla glanced up, her mother nodded towards Lareka. Teyla frowned for a moment, then her eyes widened and she turned to face Lareka again. "I am honored to be here," she added quickly.
Jallen smiled as she took her own flower. Teyla smelled her flower as she watched her parents. Its white petals had barely pulled apart, and its scent was strongest when she nudged her nose into the tip.
"Will you be attending the ceremony?" Tagan tucked his flower into the leather belt at his waist. Jallen slid her stem down her vest until the petals beaked between her breasts. Teyla glanced down at her simple dress. The thin leather cord at her waist didn't look strong enough to hold the weight of the flower. After she put it in place, she pressed the stem against the back of the leg furthest from Lareka.
"Once all the off-world parties arrive, I will." Lareka shifted the basket from hand to hand as she spoke. "To be honest, I'd rather have this duty than most back in the village. There's always so much rush and worry just before a ceremony."
Lareka smiled at Teyla's family again. Nothing seemed different than the rest of the conversation, but Jallen put one hand into the crook of Tagan's arm and gestured towards the village with her other.
"We shall see you there, then." Teyla's parents both nodded at Lareka and began walking towards the settlement. Teyla hesitated a moment and looked between her family and Lareka, who was watching her with slightly raised eyebrows.
Teyla took a step down the path as well, then stopped and faced Lareka. "Thank you for the flower," she said, and then followed her parents. She was careful to keep the flower out of Lareka's path of sight, careful to take cautious steps in her formal dress, careful to hold her head steady as she walked.
Her parents only had a few moments head start, but the gate was lost to a curve in the path by the time Teyla caught up with them. Without looking behind her, Jallen released Tagan's arm and moved slightly away from him. Teyla stepped into the gap and nudged a shoulder against each parent in turn. She moved the flower to her other hand and wiped her palm, slightly sweaty, on her skirt.
The walk to the village calmed Teyla somewhat, but her uncertainty sprung back when the buildings came into view. It seemed that everyone was in the crowd in the settlement’s square. Teyla held on to her mother’s skirt as they approached, and tried to make sense of the situation.
She knew that three children had been born to the Genii since the last naming. Through gaps in the crowd, Teyla saw the mothers sitting back to back in the center of the village. Each woman held her baby in one arm and a thick bouquet of flowers in the other. The crowd moved slowly around them.
As her parents exchanged pleasantries with some of the Genii elders, Teyla watched a boy, about her own age, with a flower in hand. He skipped once around the edge of the crowd, waving his flower above his head, and then began to edge his way towards the center. The circles he walked around the mothers grew gradually smaller. Although he never seemed to make way for others in the crowd, his path was also never blocked.
When he reached the women, he hovered in front of the one facing Teyla. A man was already standing in front of her. They spoke for a few moments while the boy bounced in place, then the man placed his hand gently on the baby's head. He bowed his head briefly, as did the mother. When the man pulled his hand away, she smiled and offered him her armful of flowers. He took one, bowed, and stepped back into the crowd.
The boy moved forward and peered at the baby. The mother smiled as she looked between his face and that of her own child. She nodded and spoke, and the boy touched the infant's head lightly. When he lifted it away, the woman smiled again, and then nodded to her flowers. The boy selected one and ran back into the people without glancing behind him. The mother shook her head as she watched him dart through the crowd, a flower in each hand, and then turned her attention to a young woman approaching.
Teyla studied the full crowd again. She saw now that the people came from the outer edges and worked their way towards the small group of women. They smiled and spoke to people they passed, but most moved alone. Small children went with parents or older siblings, and a young man with a bandaged foot moved with the help of crutches and a friend, but everyone else kept to themselves.
"What do we say to the children?" Teyla asked as they moved towards the crowd. Above her, her parents met each other's eyes and nodded. "Is it a blessing?"
"It is similar to a blessing," Jallen said. "You tell the mother you are thankful for her health and that of her child. You wish them both many years of safety. If you wish, you may suggest a name for the child."
"But the mother may have one in mind already," Tagan added.
Teyla nodded slowly. She chewed her lower lip a few times before realizing what she was doing. She released it. "Are the children male or female?"
"All female this season. The Genii have been blessed with many daughters recently." Tagan slowed as they reached the crowd and placed one hand lightly on Teyla's shoulder. She glanced up and saw the smile hiding in the lines around his eyes and mouth. "Shall we begin?"
Teyla nodded. She stepped away from her family and moved into the circling crowd. Jallen entered after her, moving in the opposite direction, then Tagan followed Teyla's path.
Teyla was not yet old enough for a ceremonial gown a bright as the crimson her mother wore. Her deep blue dress was still more colorful than anything worn by the Genii, many of whom seemed to be in their usual clothes. However, the women had braided flowers into their hair, and into the lacings of the dresses; the men tucked blooms into every buttonhole and frequently behind each ear. Their cheeks shone pink in scrubbed faces, and the fingers wrapped around stems and leaves were clean and bright.
As Teyla wove among them, the Genii greeted her as they did their own people. Her formal smile slid into one of enjoyment as she passed the villagers--children in practical clothing and wide smiles, men with trimmed beards and petals in their hair, other visiting dignitaries in festive costumes. Teyla's mother was regal and commanding as she paused to press hands and foreheads; her father was lean and elegant, observing silently.
Teyla took the careful, graceful steps dictated by her skirt. Ties at the sides would break away if she needed to run; the intact laces showed her trust in her surroundings. The sounds of the crowd melded into a steady sound, a heartbeat, and she understood why the women in the center were not overwhelmed with their well-wishers. The community as a whole was vital, yet still as delicate as the newborns it welcomed.
She greeted the girls at random. When Teyla first found herself near the center of the crowd, only one woman had no visitor. She met Teyla's gaze and smiled encouragingly. Teyla drew a deep breath, as she had been taught, but found it unnecessary: she felt no anxiety. It was a simple thing to lay her hand on the child's silky brown hair, to bless the baby and the mother, and to take a flower with many pale petals. Teyla tucked the stem into her belt, alongside the flower from the gate. She fingered the blossoms gently as she wound her way back out, and back in.
The second girl slept with her nose pressed between her mother's breasts. She didn't stir when Teyla touched her, nor when she withdrew her hand. The flower from her mother was thickly covered in leaves, and left a powerful scent in Teyla's wake.
The third daughter, a girl with tightly curling fair hair, was awake when Teyla approached. She was the eldest of the three children, and opened and closed her fist on the folds of her mother's dress as she nursed.
"I am glad for your health, and the health of your child," Teyla said. The words came easily with practice, and with hearing them constantly spoken around her.
The woman smiled. "Thank you."
"And I wish you both many days of safety." The baby's hair was springy and soft. Teyla could feel the child's pulse under her palm.
"May it be so." The mother inclined her head towards the flowers in the crook of her other arm. "Take a flower with my thanks."
Teyla stroked the girl's forehead once with her thumb before pulling away and taking a flower--bright blue petals around a yellow center. She slid it under her belt. When she glanced back, Teyla saw the baby had pulled slightly away from her mother and was looking towards the crowd. Teyla leaned in for a closer look.
"Her eyes!" she said, and looked back towards the woman. "They're so blue!"
The mother smiled and tipped her arm slightly towards Teyla. The child focused slowly on Teyla's hairline. Teyla smiled widely.
"May I suggest a name?" she asked, then frowned slightly. "Or can I not, after I have the flower?"
"You still can," said the woman. "There's no time limit."
"On Athos, in summer, we have a flower the same color as her eyes." Teyla wove her head slowly from side to side, and glanced up excitedly when the baby followed her. "They are close to this color," and she pointed to the flower, "but not as dark. These are almost purple, and the ones I mean are just blue."
"These are close to purple," the woman agreed. She brought her baby back against her, but kept her elbow down so the girl could still watch Teyla. "What are yours called?"
"We call them sora," Teyla said. She touched the girl's cheek, soft and warm, and smiled. "And they are very beautiful."
---
"Go!" Tortin leaned his head against the wall of his house, closed his eyes, and began to count in a monotone. The group of children gathered around him scattered.
Teyla headed out of the village, towards the woods. The woods themselves were strictly off-limits, but the brush between the trees and the fields had not been mentioned. She would hide there and watch. Once Tortin began to look in the fields, she planned to sneak behind him and return to his house, to declare herself safe.
Some of the Genii children ran in the same direction as Teyla, but gradually each one went a different way. When Teyla was alone, she ducked into the tall grass and started crawling towards the forest. She settled behind a thick bush and rested her chin on her knees, watching the town.
Tortin spent much of his time searching the village. Teyla saw the children there run as he approached their hiding places. After going around the buildings she could see, he moved to the far part of the settlement. She winced and rearranged herself to a more comfortable position. It would be less safe to show herself unless she knew where he was.
Some of the Genii children in the field began to move closer to the village. A bird landed in the grass, ate some flowers from a nearby plant, and then flew away. A cloud passed in front of the sun. When it moved away, Teyla tried to gauge how much time had passed, but could not.
She began to consider moving when she heard people coming from the field, towards the village. Teyla ducked back down and looked through the bush.
Two Genii women and a young girl walked along the path. One woman held a basket in each hand; the other carried a hoe over her shoulder. The girl had blonde curls and was about as tall as her mother's waist. Every few steps, she leaped forward.
As they approached Teyla's hiding spot, she could hear their conversation.
"Don't you worry, though, about being exposed like this, living here?" the woman with the baskets asked the other.
She shook her head. "I try not to think about it. We do need people here, to work the land."
"I suppose." The first woman nodded slowly. Teyla held her breath as they passed directly in front of her. "I worry about the children all the time."
"So do I! I think that's the nature of children, though. If we worked that long without Sora eating something she found on the ground, I wouldn't believe it. She's always into something, and Tyrus encourages her."
"What is he working on these days?"
Teyla couldn't hear the response. Once the Genii were out of sight, she crept from the brush and began to work her way through the field. Perhaps she could make it to the safe-base while Tortin was away, after all.
---
After the first meal of the day, Teyla gathered young branches from the surrounding woods. She spent much of the morning seated in front of her family's tent stripping them of bark and soaking them in water.
For the midday meal, she accompanied her mother to visit with Charin. They sang Anthelo after eating. Although Teyla took care to listen (she knew the tale of Anthel and her favorite hunting grounds, but often forgot the parts containing her lovers), she also arranged herself so she was facing the way through the village.
As they walked back to their home, Teyla carried the empty food baskets tied in a square of striped fabric. The afternoon sun pushed shadows over the path. Jallen hummed soft snatches of song, and Teyla swung her bundle in time.
"We will know when the party arrives," Jallen said as they came into view of the tent. "The scouts will send word when the gate is dialed."
"I know," Teyla said. She shifted the bundle to her midsection and wrapped both arms around it. "I am merely excited."
Jallen nodded. She held the tent flap open and Teyla ducked through before her. Jallen took the baskets from Teyla and unwrapped them once she was inside.
"When was the last time you saw the Genii?" She asked. She knelt near the tent's wall and placed the baskets inside a series of larger ones. Teyla shrugged out of her light jacket and went to her mother's side. She collected the lining cloths and took them to the fire, then snapped them out over the flames.
"When we were trading with the Llerrum," Teyla said. "I took a meal with the novices at the sanctuary while the rest of the party spoke with the Elders of the Belt."
"And you saw Genii there?"
Teyla nodded. "A few of the children were studying at the sanctuary, to learn to weave as the Llerrum do."
Jallen stood and crossed once more to the tent flap. Outside, the light angled through the trees.
"Come outside," she said. "We will begin stripping the hides while we wait."
Teyla and her mother settled on narrow cushions as they scraped fur from the hides. Teyla explained the spiritual significance of cloth to the Llerrum, and how the threads support each other much as the spirits and the people are interconnected. Jallen then told her about the different types of fabric worn in the life of a Llerrum: the delicate weave of infancy, the durable cloth of manual workers, the long fringed shawls wrapped around those newly betrothed.
The sun nearly sat by the time a pair of boys came running up the path. They stopped in front of Teyla's tent.
"The Genii party has come through," said the elder of the pair. He spoke to Jallen, but his gaze flicked on to Teyla before he continued. "They have a gift for your daughter's ceremony."
Teyla clenched her teeth to keep from smiling. Next to her, Jallen nodded.
"Thank you, Jarb," Jallen said, then rose and went inside. The boys headed further into the village When Teyla went in, her mother was scrubbing her hands and face with fine sand from a box near the fire. Teyla joined her.
"It is hard to learn patience," Jallen said while Teyla cleaned herself. "But it is an important lesson. Hiding, and waiting, can be as necessary as fighting." Teyla glanced up: her mother's eyes were soft. She straightened Teyla's bodice and continued. "This is why we need the consent of our allies before declaring our children adults. You must learn to be patient."
Teyla nodded and looked away. "I am trying."
"And you are doing well," Jallen said. "You did not speak of your wishes. I only knew them because I know you." She leaned her forehead against Teyla's, and they smiled at each other after pulling away.
"Now, we will greet our guests," she said. They left the tent, and walked side by side towards the gate.
The Genii carried cloaks over their arms in expectation of the evening's coming chill. Two women and two men walked along the path, and four children chased each other through the grass on either side. The youngest child, a boy with pale brown hair, waved his arms above his head when he saw Jallen and Teyla. He started to run towards them, but stopped and returned slowly to one of the women. She scooped him into her arms and onto her hip. He laid his head on her shoulder and listened as she spoke into his ear.
She placed him back on the ground once the groups met. He stayed near her skirts as they greeted each other.
"We welcome you to Athos," Teyla's mother said. She touched foreheads with each of the adults as they introduced themselves: Engel and her son Annit, Ladek and his son Bruden, Tyrus and Sora, and Craed and her daughter Moyed. Teyla thought on the symbolism of the group: hope and balance, the future generations. She nodded to the children and greeted the adults in turn.
The children spoke over each other as they walked back to the village. Teyla, holding hands with Sora and Bruden, asked prompting questions but cast her attention to the adults behind them. They discussed the Genii plantings and the Athosian hunts, though neither in detail. Both were progressing as expected. Teyla's shoulders loosened as she walked, and she smiled and joked with the children.
The ceremony of assent was simple enough. After five previous blessings, Teyla knew her part well. She stopped just short of entering the village and sat cross-legged in the center of the path. The rest of the party continued without her. Once they were out of her sight, Teyla heard her mother call three times in the tongue of the Ancestors.
Come to see, to bless, Teyla translated silently. The noise of a crowd built quickly, and grew louder as they began to approach. She smoothed her skirt over her legs and placed her palms on her thighs.
Jallen led the crowd, carrying a wreath of dried flowers in front of her chest. The Genii children and parents walked on either side of her, and the Athosians followed behind. Teyla allowed her lips to curve very slightly upwards.
The crowd stopped about fifteen paces away. Jallen and the Genii came forward until they split this difference. Teyla watched her mother and did not move or speak until Jallen inclined her head slightly.
"I am Teyla Emmagen," she said then, "daughter of Tagan. I have lived as a girl, and wish to live as a woman."
"Athosians!" Jallen called. Her voice rang in the hush. "Is this child ready to act as an adult among us?"
"She is," the crowd responded. With many men hunting, their combined voice was higher than usual.
"Partners of our people," Jallen said. The Genii children turned to look at her. "Will you accept Teyla as you accept us all?"
"We will."
The youngest boy merely nodded until Sora poked him in the side, when he cried, "Alright, I will, too!" The crowd murmured softly.
"Rise, then," Jallen said, a smile in her voice. Teyla tightened her legs and stood smoothly. As five times before, Jallen walked to meet her. She touched her forehead to Teyla's and pushed the wreath into her hands.
"I am proud of you," Jallen whispered as she pulled away. Teyla smiled at her and Jallen stepped beside her. She wrapped one arm around Teyla's waist and they faced the people together.
"Our people and our partners agree," she called. "After the hunters return, Teyla will be confirmed among us!"
"The crowd cheered, and Teyla's face broke into a happy smile. At a nudge from her mother, she raised the wreath briefly above her head. A single petal, delicate and fragrant, fell into the hair near her temple. Teyla did not notice it until late that night, though she smelled it often during the celebration.
---
Trading needed to continue, but Teyla asked her father if she might remain on Athos for a while. He frowned at her request, but granted it.
When the party left, carrying leather to the Genii in exchange for grain, Teyla took her sticks into the woods. She pushed herself, spinning and lunging in solitude, until her body was loose and sore. Exertion brought the possibility of rest along with the peace of meditation.
Her family's fire had almost burned out when she returned to the settlement. Teyla added fresh wood carefully until their tent was light again. She prepared a meal for herself in the bowl that had been her mother's, and ate in front of the flames. She flicked bits of food, wastefully, into the fire. They flashed brightly before disappearing, a harmless culling without a beam.
The tent was silent by herself. Teyla banked the fire and put the bowl away. It was near, but out of sight. She wrapped her blankets around herself and could not sleep.
---
In a break between songs, Teyla bowed to her partner and backed quickly away. He bowed in return and went searching among the crowd before the music began again.
Teyla turned and made her way out of the square. The musicians and dancers were well-lit in the center of the village. A table of food and another with beer and water stood in the dimmer light at the edge of the gathering. The Genii not dancing sat in chairs lining the festival's boundaries. Some talked amongst themselves. Some kept watch over various groups of children playing near the outer dancers. Some kept their hands busy. Two young women, one great with child and the other with a newborn strapped to her back, plucked the petals from a pile of flowers. Occasionally, they gestured with a stem to the dancers. Teyla smiled to them as she passed. They smiled and nodded back to her; scent from their basket followed her as she walked into the night.
The houses she passed were all dark. Almost everyone in the village went to the planting ceremony at sunset and stayed for dancing and food. Those who returned home instead were already in bed for the night.
After passing the final house, Teyla stopped and unlaced her new boots. The leather felt supple enough when she dressed on Athos, but the evening's dance proved to be more than she expected. Teyla rubbed gingerly at the tender skin along her smallest toes and on the ridge of her left heel. It was all slightly warm to the touch, but unbroken. She tied the laces in a loose knot and slung the boots over her shoulder. The cool grass soothed her feet as she walked.
The melody faded away as she left the village. The moon was full and lit the path she followed to the stream. She walked next to freshly plowed fields of rich soil, and then through low brush that led into the forest. Rustlings in the plants paused until she passed.
Once the water was in sight, the path curved around a steep rock formation before widening into a clearing at the bank. A collection of rough stones rested in the water, close to the edge, and a young woman furiously scrubbed a piece of fabric against one.
Teyla paused, frowning, and looked behind her. No one had followed her. Glancing around, she and the Genii girl seemed to be alone. She had no other laundry. Teyla cleared her throat loudly, but she did not stop working.
Teyla drug her bare feet as noisily as she could as she approached the girl, but she still did not turn away. Her pale hair shone in the moonlight.
"Sora?" Teyla lightly touched her on the shoulder.
Sora jumped. In turning to face Teyla, her hand slipped on the wet fabric and she fell sideways towards the water. Teyla's hand tightened on her shoulder and she pulled Sora back towards the bank. They both teetered on the damp edge for a moment, until Teyla rocked onto her heels. She thrust her elbows back and their weight shifted away from the stream. Teyla followed through with the movement and sank to the ground.
Sora's mouth and deep eyes were wide in surprise. A ringlet fell free next to her face. She and Teyla held each other's gaze in silence until a bird called behind them. Sora then looked away and tugged her shoulder from Teyla's grip. Teyla let her go easily.
Sora pressed her lips together and turned back towards the water. She still clutched wet fabric in one hand. What Teyla could see of it was white, and edged with lace.
"I didn't think anyone noticed I was gone," Sora said. "You startled me." She began scrubbing again. Her shoulders shook very slightly.
Teyla rearranged her legs underneath herself. "I apologize. That was not my intention."
Sora's head twitched back, towards Teyla, but she stopped herself before facing her.
"I came to soak my feet in the water," Teyla continued. "Do you mind if I sit next to you?"
Sora held her breath for a moment. When she exhaled, her head fell slightly towards her chest. "You should sit upstream from me," she said softly, and nodded to her left.
Teyla rose with more motion than usual, so that the leather of her skirt creaked and rubbed noisily against itself. She hung her boots from a branch at the edge of the clearing, rustling the leaves as she came and went. A cloud passed before the moon as she sat with Sora. When it moved away, Teyla caught a glimpse of Sora's work without turning her head in that direction. Part of the white fabric was stained red.
Teyla gasped, then winced. She hoped it had been a quiet gasp. Sora held herself stiffly over the rock as she scrubbed. Teyla frowned but then continued to study Sora. The hem of her skirt was dirty and wrinkled, and her face was flushed with exertion, but her eyes were dry.
She took a breath to speak, then hesitated and let it out. She tried to think of something to say, but nothing sounded right. When a girl is a certain age--that was belittling. If you keep a record of the moon--but perhaps the Genii moon did not predict a woman's courses as did the Athosian moon.
Before my mother was culled--but then Teyla did not want to speak of that.
Next to her, Sora sighed.
"Please don't try to make me feel better," she said. "I know what's happening to me. I just want to get the stain out before it sets."
Teyla leaned closer to the water, which ran refreshingly over her feet. Sora frowned at Teyla and moved her work further away. Teyla frowned in return and leaned back. She stretched out on the grass and looked up through the branches. The stars were different than at home, but she could recognize a few of the more similar groupings.
"If you let that sit in the sun," she said finally, "the light will help fade the stain."
Sora straightened and let her hands fall into her lap. She looked at the fabric and then set it aside. "It will?"
Teyla glanced at Sora. The other girl met her eyes after a while. Teyla smiled and nodded as best she could. "It is what I do."
---
Sora and the eight others coming of age this spring stepped back as the next year's children came forward. They carried armloads of barley and hops to the front of the crowd. The tall grass brushed the hems of their clothing as they walked--short skirts, short trousers. The new adults took the plants and placed them into a row of empty barrels.
"Next year," they said as a group, "this will be drink."
"Next year," replied the children (four boys and four girls, all but one fidgeting), "we will drink with you."
Teyla watched as both groups bowed and curtsied to each other. The youths then returned to the crowd and stood with their families. A few men turned the barrels on their sides and rolled them away. Over the next year, the children and their families would brew their own beer.
Martah stepped in front of the crowd once more. She nodded to the group of young people and they separated. Each moved to stand behind one barrel in the semicircle that faced the crowd. A glass stein surrounded by flowers shone atop each barrel.
"Genii!" Martah said with a smile. She raised a glass above her head. The sun twinkled through it. "These are your people! Will you accept them?”
“Yes!” Teyla responded with the entire crowd. Everyone thrust their own glass into the air-chipped ceramic mugs, thin metal cups, shallow wooden bowls. The group to be confirmed closed one hand around their steins and watched Martah closely.
“Then we drink!” she cried. The crowd cheered as the new adults pumped their glasses into the air once. Hands fell back to their sides as the young men and women then swept the flowers onto the grass. Teyla was among those who helped lift the barrels onto tables, and strap them down to prevent rolling.
The crowd milled as the adults came forward. Each newly accepted man or woman was the first to drink from their barrel. After finishing their own beer, though, they served whoever came to them.
Teyla’s cup was filled again and again. She received only a few swallows from each barrel, but the people around her went quickly from one table to the next. Their enthusiasm moved her along.
Sora’s barrel was Teyla’s last stop. Her blonde curls fell around her face, and a pink flower behind one ear matched the flush on her cheeks.
“The Athosians send our congratulations,” Teyla said.
“Thank you,” Sora said. “I’m glad you came.” Her fingers traced over Teyla’s as she took the glass. The scent of flowers, crushed underfoot, mingled with the heady beer, the clean sweat of the crowd. Sora snapped the spigot closed when Teyla’s glass was half-full and offered it back. Sora’s smile was wide and her eyes shone.
Teyla’s thumb brushed Sora’s when she took the beer. Sora’s eyes widened slightly. She glanced away, looking around the crowd, and then looked at Teyla through her eyelashes.
Teyla smiled slightly. She placed her glass on the table and wrapped her fingers around Sora’s upper arms. Sora smiled and inclined her head to meet Teyla’s forehead. She touched Teyla’s elbows and lightly slid her hands up, into place near her body.
Sora’s breath came light and rapid through her nose. Teyla pressed her hands into Sora’s arms and held herself still until her breathing calmed slightly. She kept the contact a moment longer before straightening.
“I would like to see you after the meal,” Sora said.
Teyla took her glass and sipped. She raised her eyebrows at Sora over the edge; Sora flushed slightly but did not look away.
“We won’t be adults until tomorrow morning,” Sora continued, gesturing to the others at barrels around them, “not really. Tonight is the most freedom I’ll ever have.”
“Perhaps we will find each other,” Teyla allowed. She raised her glass towards Sora’s barrel and smiled. “This is very good beer.” She walked into the crowd without looking behind her; she did smile, though.
The eight young men and women served their beer, their gift to the community, until everyone of age sampled each barrel. Afterwards, the crowds drew their own drink. Rotating crews of men and women served food from one long table. Chairs were moved aside and the evening’s bonfire was lit after the sun began to sink. When the music started, fire-lit dancers flew in concentric circles around the flames, around each other.
Teyla danced for a while, and then watched from the edge of the light. The village was before her, beyond the celebration, and the field was behind her. The chirping of insects mingled with the music. She heard Sora approach, though the other woman moved in near silence.
She tied her curls at the nape of her neck since Teyla saw her last. She held the flower from her ear in one hand, and toyed with the petals with the other. Teyla watched her from the corner of her eyes until Sora stood beside her, then turned.
“Will you walk with me?” Sora asked quickly, before Teyla could speak. She looked out to the field. “The moon is very bright.”
Teyla studied Sora’s face-she worried her bottom lip between her teeth, frowned very slightly-and then nodded. They left the golden celebration and headed silently towards the fields and forests, washed in cool blue light.
“What do you think about secrets?” Sora asked as they walked alongside the first field. She walked in the grass just beside the plowed dirt. “Is it alright to keep things from people who are important to you?”
“That is an interesting question,” Teyla began, hesitating, uncertain. “Sometimes we must keep secrets in order to survive.
Sora shook her head quickly. "Not the biggest secrets. I don’t mean secrets like those we keep from the Wraith." She looked at the ground and stopped walking. Teyla paused as well, and ducked her head to peer at Sora’s face. "I mean more personal things."
"I think," Teyla touched Sora’s arm; Sora glanced up at her with wide eyes, "that much depends on the person, and the thing you are ke-"
She broke off when Sora straightened and pressed their mouths together. It was a clumsy kiss; they both had their eyes open, and Sora did not move once they were touching. When Sora froze, Teyla pulled her hand from Sora’s arm and stepped backwards. She pressed her lips together and carefully did not touch them.
"This is your first time to have beer?" Teyla asked. The drink was heavy on Sora's breath.
"I’m sorry," Sora said quickly. She turned away from Teyla and looked back towards the village. Teyla turned to face her; from a distance, the bonfire was small. "Perhaps I misunderstood things-we don’t drink before we’re of age, and maybe I-"
"Sora." Teyla stepped next to her, but did not look at her face. Sora fell silent. "I am your friend. You do not need to explain yourself."
"But I--" Sora stopped herself and then began again. "I've been thinking about this, and now I ruined it."
"Not necessarily," Teyla said slowly. "I have no other obligations, and the next time our people trade, you and I could--"
"No." Sora shook her head miserably. "It has to be tonight. I start to work tomorrow, real work, and I can't have any distractions." She wrapped her arms tightly around herself and glanced briefly at Teyla. "You would distract me," she said softly.
"Your work is important." Teyla looked down at the rich soil next to them. She did not think it was as consuming as Sora implied, but perhaps she did not know the full extent of the labor. "People on many worlds depend on your crops."
Sora laughed bitterly. "The crops," she said, shaking her head. "Of course."
"Perhaps I should return to the celebration," Teyla said after a silence. "Would you--"
"Are you sure, Teyla?" Sora blurted. She turned to face Teyla and released her arms, stretched one hand out to her. "I know what I'm asking. I am a woman tonight, remember?"
Teyla shook her head and stepped backwards, towards the village. "You are a woman tomorrow," she reminded Sora, "and a new one, at that. This cannot happen tonight, for me. I will not take advantage."
"But it can only be tonight, for me."
"Then I am sorry," Teyla said. "If that is the case, this cannot be."
"Fine." Sora crossed her arms again and looked over the fields. Teyla could only see her hair in the moonlight. "Thank you for coming to my ceremony. I trust you can find your way back to the bonfire."
Teyla sighed at the resent in Sora's voice, but she turned to the village. "Many blessings in your adulthood," she called over her shoulder.
Sora did not reply; Teyla started down towards the village, and the gate, and her home.