Fic: Words and Deeds (3/3)
Relevant header information found in Part I; Part II available here. (And yes, there's a scene in here that might be familiar to some of you. ;) )
Almost three weeks after Sarah arrived in Atlantis, rumors were swirling. Kate was a little ashamed of it, but she was relieved that they had nothing to do with herself and Sir John. Instead, Lord Jack and Lady Sarah were the object of every gossip's tongue, and the pair was certainly giving everyone reason to talk.
A scarce two and a half weeks before Laura was to be married, Kate found herself locking the door to the queen's chambers, locking out even Elizabeth for the time. It was warmer than it had been in months outside, and Kate was quite certain that if she let Laura leave, she would never get her wedding dress hemmed.
So Laura was standing up straight in the sitting room, her lovely grey dress draped over her slender form, as graceful as the wearer. The long hours of embroidering tiny flowers all over the bodice and along the hem had been worth it. She looked as beautiful as a bride ought to look, and even Laura herself seemed grateful that Kate and Elizabeth had talked her into putting so much effort into it all.
"Do you know what I heard today?" Laura suddenly asked, stifling a giggle.
Kate looked up from the floor, where she was pinning the hem. "What?"
"That any day now, Lord Jack will be announcing his engagement to Lady Sarah."
Kate shook her head and smiled. "The people in this court have no decency."
"None whatsoever," Laura replied. Then she sobered. "It is strange, though."
"What is?" Kate asked. "That Jack would spend so much time with her?"
"I am not sure how to explain it." Laura turned slightly, letting Kate move on to the next section. "There have been rumors about him and various women ever since his wife died, but none have seemed so persistent as these. And he genuinely seems to value her company."
"There must be something more to her than what we have seen," Kate replied. "He is not the type of man to be enticed by a weak-willed woman."
"To survive with the Goa'uld so long, she could not be weak." Laura sighed. "I wish I knew the extent of the truth, though."
Kate smiled a little. "I confess myself curious as well."
Then suddenly there was a pounding at the door, a frantic tugging at the handle, and Kate scrambled up from the floor. Swiftly she unlocked it and opened it enough to see outside but still keep Laura out of view. It was one of the newer members of the guard, a young man Marcus had hired just before winter. He was slightly out of breath. "My lady," he said, "I'm to escort you and Lady Laura to the queen's audience chamber as quickly as possible."
Kate nodded. "What is the matter?"
The young man looked left and right before lowering his voice. "Lord Samuels has returned and learned of Lady Sarah's presence. He demanded a private audience with her Majesty immediately."
"Well then." Knowing nothing good could come of this, she nodded again. "We will be there directly."
Laura was half-undressed when Kate shut the door, and while the younger woman changed into her everyday clothes Kate took care of the wedding gown. They were out of the room again within just a few minutes, hurrying down to the audience chamber. Well before they arrived there, they heard evidence of a fight brewing.
Jack and Samuels were in each other's faces already. Had it not been for Sarah and Daniel's presence, Kate thought it could have come to blows before the entire group was called into the chamber.
The two ladies-in-waiting took their places beside the queen, who was looking upon the assembled group with a stern and composed expression on her face. Kate saw immediately what had happened. Samuels had insisted on speaking with her. Elizabeth had probably thought it unwise to cross him out of spite, but had invited some of his least favorite people in as well.
"Your Majesty," Samuel said, once the short pleasantries had been hastily dispensed with, "I have been willing to give you the benefit of the doubt on more than one occasion since you took the throne. Even the matter with the Caldoran could be excused by virtue of your youth. But this - a child could choose a better course of action!"
Kate glanced at Lady Sarah, whose hand was still on Jack's arm. She did not look comfortable, but neither did she look as though she was ready to bolt. Jack, on the other hand, was fairly seething by this point.
Elizabeth, for her part, remained calm and did not stoop to his level. "Lady Sarah came here with information concerning the Goa'uld," she said. "Information which could be vital to us in securing our realm's safety. The conventions of any civilized nation would dictate that she be granted safe harbor. She is also one of our people, which gives us even more reason to offer her our hospitality."
Samuels huffed. "Your Majesty, this is naïve at best. She consorted with the Goa'uld for ten years."
"She was held against her will, my lord," Elizabeth replied, a hint of coldness in her voice now. "That is not the same as consorting with them."
"And in ten years, she never saw fit to escape?" he shot back. "No, that is consorting, and allow me to inform you that no one can come out of that country without bearing their foul stench."
Jack and Daniel both shifted, one in anger and the other in discomfort, but Elizabeth merely raised a brow at him. "And how would you know such a thing, Lord Samuels?" she asked. Kate knew from various conversations that she was tired of hearing her cousin and her friend maligned for having dealt with the Goa'uld in the past, so it was remarkable to her that she was keeping her temper in control.
But before Samuels could answer the question, Lady Sarah took a small step forward. "Your Majesty," she said, her voice soft and unassuming, "I feel I must thank this gentleman."
Samuels was taken aback, and Elizabeth looked at her sharply. "Indeed?" she said.
"Yes," she replied. "He has reminded me that I have been here for some time and have not yet pledged my loyalty to you. I wish to rectify this at once."
Had it not been for the moment of surprise on the queen's face, Kate might have thought that Elizabeth had planned this. She was quick to take advantage of it, however, and she nodded to Sarah. "The law requires three members of the college of lords be present for such a thing, so I believe we have witnesses enough."
She glanced at Samuels, as though daring him to escape. But while he was clearly unhappy, he stood where he was while Sarah approached the queen and knelt before her. Elizabeth looked down upon her and said, "Sarah of Berwynn, you are by inheritance a viscountess and a member of the college of lords. Do you claim these as your rights under the law?"
"I do," Sarah replied. "And I, Sarah, Viscountess of Berwynn, do swear true loyalty and faith to our lady Elizabeth, Queen of Atalan, defender of the realm."
Elizabeth gave her a regal nod, and Jack stepped forward to offer Sarah his hand and help her rise. In the meantime, Elizabeth looked at Samuels. "We thank you for your honest concern," she said. "However, we hope this has demonstrated that Lady Sarah's loyalty is not in question. You are dismissed."
After looking about the room for a moment as though hoping an ally would materialize out of nothing, Samuels stomped off. As soon as he was gone, the atmosphere in the room relaxed considerably. Elizabeth rose from her throne. "That was an excellent notion," she said, looking at Sarah.
"It seemed the fastest way to silence him, and anyone like him," Sarah replied. "And he was right, in part. I had given no one a reason to believe me loyal to you."
Kate thought Elizabeth might have argued the point, but she only pressed her lips together for a moment. "I am in your debt, for more reasons than one," she said.
Sarah nodded in reply, and with that Elizabeth left the room. Along with Laura, Kate followed her out, grateful that at least one crisis had been so cleanly averted.
Winter in Atlantis had not been much to John's liking. There was too much of everything: too much snow, too much ice, too much wind. The weeks he'd spent in Athos had not been much better. The village was not far enough inland to shield it from the raging storms.
But the sun finally appeared to be remembering them. The snow had melted, green plants began to sprout up from the earth, and the ocean calmed.
Once his work with Pendergast and the navy was done, John thought he might set forth to the mainland, to explore more of Atalan now that he seemed to be adopted into the country. But something about the palace had tethered him to the island, and while he liked the prospect of seeing more of the realm, he was reluctant to leave.
So on a beautiful afternoon, though the air was quite crisp, he found himself heading to a field between the palace walls and the shore, where half a dozen targets had been set up. With a quiver slung across his back and his longbow in hand, he felt as though life was returning to normal at last.
He had fired a handful of arrows into the target, getting more accurate and consistent as he went, when he saw motion out of the corner of his eye. There were new colors in his field of vision, and he knew he had an audience as he fired his next shot.
It struck dead center.
John turned then and nodded to the group observing him. Elizabeth had found him, along with Kate and Laura and Captain Lorne. It was the coltish queen herself, however, who commanded his attention, in her gown of crimson silk. He had been so busy with his work with Pendergast, he had not seen her in several days, and then only for a few moments.
"Good afternoon, Sir John," she greeted when she had reached him, her attendants standing several feet back.
She offered her hand, and he bowed to kiss it. "My lady," he replied. "It is a fine day."
"Indeed," she said with a smile. Then she gestured toward the targets. "That was most impressive."
John frowned as he headed toward the target to retrieve his arrows. He thought it a little odd that she had not observed a true master before, and he hardly qualified. "I should think there would be better archers in the palace defenses."
"There are, but not many," Elizabeth replied, and John could just barely detect her carefully covered distaste. He could guess who had made that decision. "In truth, there was some reason to it. We have other defenses, and here at the palace we have rarely seen raiders so bold as to attack us. The villages on the mainland are easier targets."
Pulling the last arrow from the target and turning back, he said, "But?"
"Jack has sent word to the army's encampments," she said. "A company of archers will be here soon."
John smiled at her. "Then I should practice while I have the targets to myself."
The smile he got in return was almost a grin, and she stood back as he nocked an arrow and fired it at the target. The arrow struck a little higher this time, but he hardly noted that. Instead, he drew an arrow and fired again, and thrice more in rapid succession. When he paused and looked at the queen, her eyebrows were raised in awe. "My lady," he said, "is something wrong?"
"I must confess myself a little amazed," she replied. "Could you. . . Could you show me how?"
He nodded, taking a step back. "As you wish."
Elizabeth stepped up to him and he motioned for her to turn around. She did, and he gently grabbed her shoulders to turn her a little more. "Look at the target," he instructed. "Raise your left hand." When she had done both, John placed the longbow in her open palm. Then he took a step back to look at her.
"The bow is almost as tall as me," she commented.
"But not taller," John replied. "And that is the important part." Then he gently grasped her arm and turned it. "Keep your elbow pointed out."
"Why?"
"You risk harming yourself if you do not," he explained. "Believe me, you do not want to feel the snap of a bowstring."
As he showed her how to nock an arrow, he could not help but notice that Lorne, Kate and Laura had moved further down the path, to a place where they could observe better. It made John feel somewhat nervous, though this was hardly the first time he had taught a person how to fire a longbow just in this month.
He cleared his throat and focused on the queen. "Now," he said, "draw the bow."
Elizabeth pulled on the string, focusing intently on the target, but stopped well before she should have. "Sir John," she said quietly, "this is a warrior's weapon. I have not the strength to draw it fully."
John should have stopped her then and moved her closer to the target, but he did not. Instead, he laid his left hand over hers on the bow and said, "May I?"
She nodded silently, and John wrapped his arm around her.
It took him a long time to realize that this was an awkward position from which to fire. He was distracted by the slip of a girl in his arms, her body pushing against his chest with every breath. He swallowed hard, trying to ignore the details of the situation, and pulled the string back. As he drew it, Elizabeth gasped and pressed back against him. Belatedly John realized that he had brushed his fingers against her breast. Somehow he could tell that she wished to speak, but she did not open her mouth. In return, he tried to look away from where the fabric stretched taut over her chest, but there were other distractions too. They were matched limb for limb, and he could feel her heart beating faster than it should have been, as did his. He could only hope she would not notice.
"On the count of three, let fly," he whispered. "One, two, three."
In unison they released the string, and Elizabeth could not have been more pleased with the result. The arrow had struck a little left of center, but for her first attempt at sighting a shot, she had done very well. When she looked over her shoulder at him, she smiled broadly and said, "May I try again?"
The second time, he did not give her guidance, stepping in only when she looked at him for help with the bowstring. But the third time, as she fired, she cried out.
John stepped around her in half a moment, taking the bow from her and setting it aside. "Your Majesty?" he said, while the others rushed toward them. "What is the matter?"
"The string," she said, her eyes welling up with tears.
He did not ask permission to push her left sleeve back, though Kate gave him a rather stern look for it. Her arm was red, and already starting to swell. "It is nothing serious," he said, more for the others' benefit. "But she is in no inconsiderable pain."
John glanced up at her face then and saw that she had shed a few tears. He wished very badly to say something to her, but suddenly could not think of the words. Thankfully, Kate drew his attention away from the pair of large, green eyes that were staring back at him so intently. "Sir John, is there anything we can do to ease the pain for her?"
"Something cold will help. Is there ice in the kitchens?"
"You will not waste that on me," Elizabeth said, forcefully. "Draw water from the well. It will suffice."
Kate looked at the other woman. "Laura, fetch some cloths and meet us in the courtyard."
Laura turned and ran, and John offered Elizabeth his arm. She gave him a look of sheer gratitude, and they walked up to the palace, Lorne and Kate behind them. Lorne drew water from the courtyard well, and by the time the bucket had reached the top, brimming with cool water, Laura had returned, breathless and bearing strips of cloth.
The ladies and the guard allowed John to tend to the bruises on the queen's arm, and he imagined that he was the only one there who had ever encountered such an injury. Lorne did not have the look of an archer, and Kate and Laura had vastly different concerns than the care of combat wounds. Then Elizabeth surprised them all and said, "Laura, Kate, Captain, I wish to speak privately with Sir John."
Laura opened her mouth to say something, but Kate curtseyed, grabbed Laura's arm, and headed out with her. Lorne bowed and followed them, retreating to a discreet distance, and John looked up at Elizabeth with a brow raised. "Your Majesty?" he prompted, wondering if he was about to be reprimanded for something.
"I want to ask something which may be uncomfortable for you," Elizabeth replied. "I thought it best that you not have an audience."
John dipped another cloth into the cold water and laid it over her outstretched arm. She hissed at the contact. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "What is it you wish to know?"
She bit her lip for a moment. "You told me once that you were called to defend Caldora when you were younger. Did you serve in the Ori war?"
The question was so unexpected to him that he could only stare. "How did you know?"
Elizabeth looked so uncertain that John almost wanted to withdraw his question. But after a few moments, she looked him in the eye again and said, "A few minutes ago you fired so rapidly, and there was a look on your face. . . I have little experience with such things, but you have the manner of a man who has seen war."
Slowly, John nodded. "Do you remember the Ori?"
She shook her head minutely. "I was two years old when they came here," she replied. "The consequences of their arrival still linger, but no, I do not remember them."
"Then I am not certain you can understand those days," John said. "The Ori were persuasive in many ways. When they could not persuade with the promises of wealth and glory, they persuaded with threats. They were going to war with the Ancients, and they wanted to raise an army."
"I know," Elizabeth said. "My father refused them. They burned fields and forests, and they killed my people without mercy. Father was injured then. He never truly recovered." She shook her head. "But you must have been a child then."
"I was fourteen," he replied. "The youngest of six sons. The old king sent us all."
"Fourteen," she breathed. John knew what had happened to her when she was barely past that age. It was only a few years younger than she was now.
"I was gone for most of a decade. We all were," he continued. He thought of the Ancient woman who helped him escape both armies, seeing that he was not truly a part of this conflict, but that would be a tale for another time. His voice grew rough. "I was the only one of my father's house to return."
"John-"
Whatever she wished to say died on her lips, for John noticed a smudge of dirt on her face, and he touched her cheek lightly with his fingertips. The smudge had probably come from his own hand. John took the last of the cloths and wetted it, wringing it out as much as possible, and cleaned the dirt away. Folding the cloth over, he wiped away the tear streaks too, and as he brushed by her parted lips, he realized that she was holding her breath. Her hand had closed around his, or perhaps it was the other way around.
In that moment, Elizabeth looked less regal yet more beautiful, and John suddenly wanted to kiss her very badly.
But in the next moment, Elizabeth's eyes flickered away, and she said, "Cousin."
John looked over his shoulder to see Daniel, and he pulled his hand away from hers. "Pardon my intrusion, Majesty," Daniel said, "but you're to meet with the ambassador from Iolan in a few minutes."
"Thank you," she replied. "I shall be there directly." Gingerly, Elizabeth removed the wet strips from her arm and pulled her sleeve down over the welt. "Thank you, Sir John, for your assistance," she added, seeming a little distracted before she exited the courtyard.
John lingered behind, cleaning up the mess. Daniel stayed too, and after a brief silence he said, "May I ask what you were doing, Sir John?" It was not a request.
"There was an accident," John replied. "She wanted to learn to fire a bow, and the string snapped her arm."
"That is not what I meant," Daniel said. "She may be queen, but she is young. With youth comes vulnerability."
John frowned deeply, almost scowling. "What are you implying?"
"That you should be careful, sir," the duke advised. "And that whatever your intentions, you cannot play games with her."
Daniel left then, without letting John respond at all, even if he had been able to come up with an answer. He had thought his actions required no explanation, but apparently such was not the case. The admonishment held a hint of threat in it, and he knew the other man was serious. He had seen in the last six months that the queen's closest circle of advisors were protective of her, but never thought would affect him beyond wary glances. After all, what was the danger in such a friendship?
But as he walked outside again to retrieve his bow and arrows, he remembered the allure of wide green eyes and the lingering touch of a woman, and he knew with sudden certainty why he did not wish to leave the island of Atlantis.
That evening, Sarah did not join Jack for supper. Her absence left him feeling strange, and he found it a little odd that he had so quickly grown accustomed to her presence. After the sun had set, he went looking for her, and found her on the western rooftop terrace. He was somewhat surprised that the guards had allowed her up there. For a long time Elizabeth had used that as a place of privacy, saying she sometimes felt too cloistered in her garden and needed the whip of the sea air.
On this evening, it was snowing.
When he joined Sarah along the parapet, she was smiling to herself. "Do you have any idea how long it has been since I watched snow falling?" she asked. "I've spent the last ten years in a desert."
"It will not stick," Jack replied. "It's been warm enough these past few days that the ground is not cold."
"I know." Sarah inhaled deeply. "But it is beautiful anyway."
He nodded, but turned his attention to another subject. "You did a brave thing this afternoon," he said quietly.
Sarah looked at him, confused. "By pledging loyalty to the queen?"
"By thwarting Samuels," Jack corrected. "He's an idiot, but he has allies."
For a while they stood there silently, looking out to the shipyard and the sea beyond. The Queen Margaret was probably just out of sight, patrolling the island, and two of her sister-ships lay in waiting in the yard, almost finished and ready to be christened. Even at this distance he could see flags waving upon their masts in the light breeze.
He knew Elizabeth was proud of what she and the realm had accomplished over the course of the winter, and it was laudable. But Jack remembered the navy before the Ori, when great warships had sailed the world proudly and every nation feared their might. He could not help but be a little sad that the navy had fallen so far. It was truly miraculous that none but the Wraith had attempted to prey upon their coasts in the intervening time.
And after everything Elizabeth had done to hasten the navy's reconstruction, the greatest threat loomed in the south, across the mountains. The irony was not lost on him.
But for now, they could only bide their time, and pray.
Beside him Sarah sighed, drawing him out of his thoughts. "What is it?" he asked.
She shook her head. "I came here in hopes of helping," she replied. "And I believe I have, but the waiting. . ."
"I know."
She turned and looked at him, and not for the first time he marveled at how very tall she was. As tall as Daniel, and nearly as tall as himself. She licked her lips nervously. "I think I would have run mad these past few weeks, had it not been for your kindness," she said softly.
When she stopped talking, Jack realized that he was still staring at her mouth. He'd had some vague and scattered thoughts in the past weeks, most of them boiling down to the fact that Sarah was a beautiful woman, but suddenly the abstract and general were becoming concrete and specific. She was beautiful and strong and touching his arm tenderly and he was only mortal.
He took a half step forward and kissed her gently. At first neither of them moved, and it occurred to Jack that it had probably been a very long time since Sarah had consented to be kissed. He drew back slightly, his lips not quite touching hers, and her hand came to rest over his heart. Thus encouraged, he brought one hand up to touch her face, and he kissed her again.
This time she responded, her lips moving with his, and when he slid his hand through her thick, curly hair to cup the back of her head, she whimpered a little. It had been some time since he'd been in this situation, and he found himself wanting more. When Sarah wound her arms around his neck, he pulled back and looked at her for a moment. It seemed she was as confused as he was, and Jack held her closer and kissed her deeply.
He was just beginning to give thought to what might happen if someone found them like this when Sarah abruptly pulled away. She was breathing heavily, her arms still around him, and the confusion Jack had seen before was mixed with something else he couldn't read. When she tried to step back, he let her. "What are we doing?" she asked, almost whispering.
"I don't know," Jack answered honestly.
She stepped back again, and she was looking anywhere but at him. "I should go," she said.
She fled without another word, and Jack did not hinder her as she left. Instead, he stayed in the cold evening air and wondered if this was something more than idle curiosity at work.
Too restless to settle for the evening, John wandered down to the stables to visit Silvanus. The wet snow outdoors meant he was alone with the animals. He fed his horse one of the apples he had brought, brushing the brown coat absently even though it was not strictly needed.
Across from them, the queen's mare, Megaera, snorted and shook her head.
"Should I have let you win, Princess?" The memory of his race with Elizabeth on the beach came back to him. Her small pout when he had beaten her, the look in her eyes when he helped her down from the horse's back, and the brief moment she had lingered far closer to him than necessary before moving away.
Silvanus turned to nudge him. John fed him another apple and then bit into the third one as he leaned against the door of the stall, watching the snow.
He had been retracing his friendship with Elizabeth all evening, ever since Daniel's oblique threat in the courtyard earlier. On some level, he was trying to convince himself that his sudden revelation this afternoon had been wrong. John had known since his arrival the previous fall that his relationship with the young monarch defied convention and propriety in many respects. He hadn't questioned it too closely, and now he wondered if he had been afraid of the answer, or willfully trying to deceive himself.
Shutting his eyes, John was once again kneeling before Elizabeth in the courtyard today, her hand holding his tightly, his own fingers brushing her cheek, staring at her parted lips fixedly. His blood heated at the mere memory.
He had not seen her since then, and he wondered if this intense longing to kiss her would reappear the next time they encountered each other. He suspected that such a desire would be impossible to forget, once acknowledged.
The truth was that his feelings for her were not solely that of a knight for his queen, or even a gentleman for a friend. He loved her. Thinking back, John finally admitted to himself that he had probably loved her from the moment he first set eyes on her. He remembered that day well, Elizabeth sitting in her garden and laughing, remembered touching her hand for the first time, the way her cheeks turned pink as she looked at him. In the months since, he had used every trick at his disposal to provoke that reaction from her as frequently as possible, both for the pleasure of seeing her and also for the warmth she produced in him.
His intentions toward her had always been honorable, but he looked back now with a new understanding. He could not help that his mind recalled in perfect detail the feeling of her body in his arms earlier today, of the way she had gasped when his fingers had brushed against her. It had been an accident, but it stirred questions about how she would react to a different type of contact, one that was not so innocent.
He stared at the half-eaten apple in his hand, but his eyes saw every blush he'd drawn from Elizabeth over the winter. He saw every smile she had bestowed on him. He saw her eyes, vividly, as they fixed on his and neither of them had been able to look away, more times than he could count.
John closed his eyes.
Elizabeth did care for him. He was certain of it, as certain as he was of his own heart. He could not say whether she felt as deeply as he did for her, but she did care.
Trying to calm himself, he stepped forward and offered the fruit to Megaera. She nibbled almost daintily and he smiled a little.
It was no great wonder that the queen's advisors had been so afraid of him all this time. They had seen the way Elizabeth reacted to him, as well as the way he had reacted to her. Had Teyla not been teasing him about his own misery when he believed Elizabeth would never trust him again? It had been apparent to everyone but themselves.
And now that he knew his own mind? The men who guarded Elizabeth had been worried about his effect on her when John himself had no thought but to be her friend and serve her. If his goal was more than friendship...
His fingers tightened in Megaera's mane unconsciously. In all honesty, he would not care for the differences in rank, nor for the certain objections of her advisors and the college of lords to the monarch marrying any Caldoran, much less a disgraced exile. Their protests would matter little when weighed in the balance against being Elizabeth's husband. For that honor he would face far greater dangers than some squabbling lords and gossiping ladies.
But Elizabeth's sense of duty was incised in her down to the marrow. Nothing mattered more to her than her people and her responsibility to her realm. Which was as it should be, and one of the things he admired about her, but John ached at the thought. How could he possibly convince her to set aside the wishes of her family and her people?
Assuming she would even want him in the first place.
Sarah did not sleep much that night. Her heart never seemed to stop racing. She tried her best to relax, feeling desperately that she needed to rest, but she simply could not calm down.
She was not a schoolgirl, she reminded herself, and had not succumbed to such a fit of nerves since she was a child. Something about the situation was terribly wrong. She was not even entirely certain of what she felt about Jack, but she had not told him the truth. Perhaps the manner of her escape from the Goa'uld did not affect the veracity of her claims, but she had not trusted him. At the moment, that was the greater sin.
She rose at first light, her entire body aching. Her intention was to seek out Jack before official business at the palace began, but it seemed he had had the same thought, for when she opened the door, he was on the other side. "My lord," she said, surprised.
"Sarah, may I speak with you for a moment?" he asked.
"Yes, of course," she replied, stepping aside to let him into the room. "I was on my way to find you, actually."
"Indeed?"
Sarah nodded.
"Do I owe you an apology for what happened last night?"
She began to blush, which made him chuckle. "Believe me, Jack, I do not feel wronged. Not in the slightest."
Jack looked rather smug for a moment, but that made Sarah feel a little more nervous. She backed away from him and sat down at a small table. "A few weeks ago," she said, deciding that bluntness was, in this case, the better part of valor, "I told you how I escaped from the Goa'uld, and now I must confess to you that I was not truthful with you."
He sobered immediately, crossing his arms over his chest and watching her seriously. "I had my suspicions, even then," he replied.
That was not surprising. "What I told you was what the Tok'ra spy assumed," she explained. "While he was helping me reach the Talas mountains, I tried to convince myself that it was the truth."
Jack's voice was low and gentle when he spoke. "Is there blood on your hands, Sarah?"
She looked up and saw only sympathy in his brown eyes. Silently, she nodded.
He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Sarah, you are not the only person I have known who escaped the Goa'uld," he said. "The one thing they all have in common is that they had to kill to do it. Whomever you struck was taking your life from you, little by little."
Sarah jumped up and stepped away, as though his touch suddenly burned. "Jack, you don't understand," she protested. "I killed Osiris. I walked into his chambers in midday and slit his throat while he slept."
"Sarah," he said, but she would not look at him.
"Malek found me there an hour later," she continued. "There was so much blood. He had already learned my identity, and he helped me cross the desert and reach the mountains because he thought my intention was to warn Atalan."
She hazarded a glance at Jack and saw him frowning in confusion. "Wasn't it?"
As tears began to well up in her eyes, she shook her head. "No. I did not decide to deliver a warning to you all until I had reached Atalan," she said. "When I learned that the army might strike here, I was livid. After ten years of slavery, ten years of being forced to share that pig's bed, it was more than I could bear. So I killed him. Took my revenge in the only way that seemed right."
Her voice broke, and she turned away, covering her face as she cried, not wanting Jack to see the shame she'd tried so hard to suppress. But before long, his hands rested on her shoulders, and then he pulled her into a fierce embrace.
"I believe you," he said into her ear. Slowly Sarah wrapped her arms around him and held on, thinking that he could not possibly know how much those words meant to her. But what he said next surprised her. "No one will learn of this from me."
She pulled back to look him in the eye, and what she saw was deadly serious. Then he brushed the wetness from her face with his thumbs, just before he leaned in and kissed her softly. "He got what he deserved, Sarah," he said. "And frankly, the fact that you feel guilt for killing a monster. . ."
"What?" she asked.
"It means he did not strip you of everything." Jack traced his thumb against her cheek again. "It means you're still whole." Then his voice lowered dangerously. "I only wish I could have killed him myself."
"Jack."
He drew her close again, stroking her back and brushing his lips against the base of her neck. Sarah shivered and embraced him once more. Light kisses reached her jaw, her cheek, her temple, and she let out a quiet sigh. "Jack," she breathed, and he leaned his forehead against hers. "I don't understand."
"I'm not good at talking," he told her. "I'm better at doing."
She swallowed hard. "And after what I just told you?"
"I'm a soldier, Sarah," he replied. He said no more than that, but Sarah understood what he meant. A crime of passion was not much different than a crime of war, and if he could not forgive her, neither could he forgive himself.
Slowly, she brought her hand up to touch his face, her palm cupping his cleanly shaved cheek. She still did not fully understand what was happening, but this was something else Osiris had stolen from her youth - the confusion, the anxiety, the strange warmth wherever he touched her. But she was no young girl, blushing and pure, and everything was made more complicated now by what had been done to her and what she had done.
He leaned in to kiss her, and she let herself respond to the feel of his mouth against hers. There would be time enough to sort everything out in days to come. For now, this was enough.
Jack had breakfast in the nobles' dining hall with Sarah, though neither of them talked much during the meal. He could not begin to guess where her thoughts were, but his were racing from one subject to another. She had killed Osiris. She had told him the truth at last. She had not pushed him away when he'd kissed her.
He had no idea what most of that meant.
Sarah returned to her chambers after the meal, but Jack sought out the queen. She was probably having breakfast with Kate and Laura just now, before he and Daniel came to brief her on the day's activities. When he arrived at the royal chambers, he discovered that he was right. "Jack," she said, smiling brightly upon seeing him. "You're early. Will you join us?"
"I'm sorry to interrupt," he replied, "but I need to speak with you privately."
Elizabeth glanced at Laura and Kate, who swiftly left the room, taking some of the food with them. When the door to the bedroom was closed behind them, she looked at Jack. "What is the matter?"
"I know you told me to say nothing of the manner of Sarah's escape if it was not crucial to the truth of her warning," he said, taking a seat next to her. "But at the same time, I know you would always wonder and worry if I said nothing."
"Then she has told you the truth?" Elizabeth asked.
Jack nodded. "You have nothing to fear from her."
The queen sighed in relief and her whole body relaxed. "Thank you," she said quietly.
"There is something I should tell you, however," he continued. "She was able to escape because Osiris died suddenly."
Her eyes narrowed. "Why was she afraid to divulge that before?"
Jack could tell that she was likely to figure it out eventually, but he would not betray Sarah's confidence. "When are our fears ever rational, Elizabeth?" he asked gently.
Elizabeth was quiet for a moment. "This could work to our advantage," she said. "There is likely to be conflict over his territories now that he is dead, which could stall and weaken any possible incursion."
He nodded. "That was my reason for telling you."
There was a knock on the door, and Elizabeth called for the person to enter. It was Peter Grodin, holding a folded and sealed paper in his hand. "Your Majesty," he said, "forgive my intrusion, but a messenger just arrived from the mountains."
Elizabeth rose so quickly she almost knocked her chair over. Jack was up a moment later, and he watched as she took the message from Peter and opened it with shaking hands. As she read, all the color drained from her face. "Jack," she said in a voice that filled him with dread, "find Daniel. Meet me in my audience chamber."
Though her advisors were gathered before her, Elizabeth was still pacing silently, ignoring their presence. The message from the mountain sentries was still in her hands, crumpled from much wringing. "My lady?" Daniel said at last.
Elizabeth shook her head. "Not yet."
Then one of the massive oak doors behind the group swung open, and John of Sheppard entered. Elizabeth stopped her pacing and looked at him. He looked around tentatively as the guard outside closed the door behind him. "Your Majesty?" he asked from across the room.
"The Goa'uld have attacked Caldora," she said, looking only at him. "Through the province of Sheppard. They crossed the Mearali River ten days ago."
John's face turned ashen as she spoke. For a long time the room was silent, until Elizabeth could no longer bear the weight of his gaze and she turned away.
Fortunately, Jack seemed to understand why she had called them all together. He turned to Daniel. "The Tok'ra still have good relations with Caldora, right?" he asked.
"Yes," Daniel replied. "And given their historic enmity with the Goa'uld, they're likely to give aid to Caldora. Perhaps even troops."
The calm, reasoned discussion helped Elizabeth focus, and she took to pacing again. "I must inform the college of lords of this aggression," she said. "The Goa'uld could well turn their eyes to us next, and heaven knows that ought to get their attention."
"What are you thinking, cousin?" Daniel asked, sounding equally curious and apprehensive about her answer.
Elizabeth took a moment to seat herself on her throne, though this position placed her opposite John once more. Deliberately she looked to Daniel again and asked, "What would happen if I threw my support behind Caldora?"
There was only a moment of silence before Daniel and Jack both started talking to her at once. Elizabeth did not let it last long before she raised her hand to silence them. "Do not think of how I would show my support," she elaborated. "That is a detail for another time, when we have more information from them."
Daniel cleared his throat. "The Jaffa may be enemies of the Goa'uld, but they have never been friends of Caldora. If you show your support, it is more likely that they will stand with Caldora as well."
"And by that logic, so would Iolan," Elizabeth replied. "Surely the Goa'uld would not be so foolish as to stand against five nations."
"Would you be willing to broker such an alliance, my lady?" Kate asked. "That would be no small task."
"I cannot say now," she said. "There are too many things I do not know. It may well be that Caldora does not need our aid."
At last, John spoke. "They will," he said quietly, but the sound of his voice made everyone turn and look at him. "They lost a generation of men. They have not the might to turn back an invasion alone. The real question is whether or not they will be humble enough to ask for your help."
Slowly, Elizabeth nodded. "We must send official word of this to Sir Jacob and the Tok'ra, though they may know already," she said. "If the Tok'ra do offer troops to Caldora and need passage through Atalan, I will give Sir Jacob the authority as my ambassador to grant it. As I understand the law, I do not need to bring that before the college of lords before I make such a decision." Then she turned to Jack and Daniel specifically. "I need this news spread among the lords who are already here, as I want them all to know of this before I address the full assembly. Lord George arrives in a few days, does he not?"
"At the earliest we expect him a day after tomorrow," Daniel replied.
"Then send a messenger to intercept him," Elizabeth ordered. "He does not need to hasten his return, but I wish him to know as quickly as possible."
Daniel and Jack both nodded their agreement, and Elizabeth looked about the room. "And I wish to speak with Sir John," she said quietly. "Alone."
The men in particular seemed reluctant to leave, but Kate and Laura led the way. John stayed where he was, simply staring at her. The look on his face made her want to cry. "What makes you so sure that Caldora will turn to you for aid?" he asked once the others were all gone. The tone in his voice suggested that he already knew the answer.
Elizabeth closed her eyes for a moment. "Three weeks ago when Lady Sarah arrived, she brought news that the Goa'uld had amassed an army within striking distance of both Caldora and Atalan," she explained, as calmly as she could. "I sent a messenger to warn King Henry, but he could not have arrived more than a day or two before the attack. If that much."
The look on his face was one of horror and betrayal. "What are you playing at?" he asked, his voice rising. "These three weeks you have known that my father was in danger, and yet you said nothing?"
"There were many people in danger, Sir John," she replied, feeling her own temper rising. "I did not have enough information to share publicly, so I decided not to cause public panic-"
"No, my lady," he interrupted, stepping closer at last. "You kept this from me. After everything I have done to try to win back your trust - have I done something now to lose it again?"
"John, how could you-" Elizabeth started to say, but she checked herself. She did not understand what it was about this man that intensified everything she felt, but she had to be the master of herself now. Nervously she bit her lip, and then she rose. "I did not conceal this from you to hurt you," she said, doing her best to keep from raising her voice.
"Then why?" he demanded.
"I could not tell you," she insisted. "Believe me, I am not lying to you."
He swallowed hard and looked away. "After my illness this winter you made me swear that I had disclosed everything to you," he said. "Am I now to learn that you will not extend the same courtesy to me?"
"John, you're not being reasonable," Elizabeth replied, but the truth of his words made her feel very small.
"Reasonable?" he asked. "My family was on the front lines of a war I knew nothing about! These are people I love! Since when is anyone supposed to be reasonable about such a thing?"
By that point they were standing closely in front of each other. "John, please," she said in a soft voice, hoping it would assuage him. "Please try to understand."
He hesitated a moment, then brought his hands up to her face, startling her. No man had ever touched her like this, and something about the warmth of his hands against her cheeks made her heart race. "Majesty, tell me the truth," he said. He had no right to order her like that, but she did not think of it. His green eyes were filled with something stark and intense and painful and she could not look away.
"There are some things you are not privileged to know," she said. "You are neither my advisor nor my husband, and I simply cannot tell you everything."
Slowly he removed his hands from her face. "Then that is how it's to be?" he asked. "Secrets always between us?"
They stood then not as friends, nor even as a man and a woman, but as a Caldoran before the Queen of Atalan. This had happened once before, and Elizabeth was fairly desperate not to see this end the same way. "I wanted to tell you," she replied. "Truly. I almost did. But my duty to Atalan and her laws must always come first. I hope you would not wish me to act otherwise."
John looked away from her then, rubbing his face with his hand. "I should go," he said. "I should write to. . . someone. My cousin, perhaps. I want to know if my father is still alive."
Elizabeth nodded, and he turned toward the door. But impulsively she grabbed him by the arm. "John, wait," she said.
"What?"
Setting caution and propriety at naught, she closed the gap between them and embraced him, wrapping her arms tightly around his shoulders. He did not move at first, but then his hands lightly rested against her back, as though he was worried about being caught in this position. "Your Majesty?" he prompted.
"I'm so sorry," she replied. "But whatever Caldora needs, if it is in my power, I will grant it. You have my word."
A few seconds later, his arms tightened around her. Though all the world around them was threatening to unravel, they both held on.
Almost three weeks after Sarah arrived in Atlantis, rumors were swirling. Kate was a little ashamed of it, but she was relieved that they had nothing to do with herself and Sir John. Instead, Lord Jack and Lady Sarah were the object of every gossip's tongue, and the pair was certainly giving everyone reason to talk.
A scarce two and a half weeks before Laura was to be married, Kate found herself locking the door to the queen's chambers, locking out even Elizabeth for the time. It was warmer than it had been in months outside, and Kate was quite certain that if she let Laura leave, she would never get her wedding dress hemmed.
So Laura was standing up straight in the sitting room, her lovely grey dress draped over her slender form, as graceful as the wearer. The long hours of embroidering tiny flowers all over the bodice and along the hem had been worth it. She looked as beautiful as a bride ought to look, and even Laura herself seemed grateful that Kate and Elizabeth had talked her into putting so much effort into it all.
"Do you know what I heard today?" Laura suddenly asked, stifling a giggle.
Kate looked up from the floor, where she was pinning the hem. "What?"
"That any day now, Lord Jack will be announcing his engagement to Lady Sarah."
Kate shook her head and smiled. "The people in this court have no decency."
"None whatsoever," Laura replied. Then she sobered. "It is strange, though."
"What is?" Kate asked. "That Jack would spend so much time with her?"
"I am not sure how to explain it." Laura turned slightly, letting Kate move on to the next section. "There have been rumors about him and various women ever since his wife died, but none have seemed so persistent as these. And he genuinely seems to value her company."
"There must be something more to her than what we have seen," Kate replied. "He is not the type of man to be enticed by a weak-willed woman."
"To survive with the Goa'uld so long, she could not be weak." Laura sighed. "I wish I knew the extent of the truth, though."
Kate smiled a little. "I confess myself curious as well."
Then suddenly there was a pounding at the door, a frantic tugging at the handle, and Kate scrambled up from the floor. Swiftly she unlocked it and opened it enough to see outside but still keep Laura out of view. It was one of the newer members of the guard, a young man Marcus had hired just before winter. He was slightly out of breath. "My lady," he said, "I'm to escort you and Lady Laura to the queen's audience chamber as quickly as possible."
Kate nodded. "What is the matter?"
The young man looked left and right before lowering his voice. "Lord Samuels has returned and learned of Lady Sarah's presence. He demanded a private audience with her Majesty immediately."
"Well then." Knowing nothing good could come of this, she nodded again. "We will be there directly."
Laura was half-undressed when Kate shut the door, and while the younger woman changed into her everyday clothes Kate took care of the wedding gown. They were out of the room again within just a few minutes, hurrying down to the audience chamber. Well before they arrived there, they heard evidence of a fight brewing.
Jack and Samuels were in each other's faces already. Had it not been for Sarah and Daniel's presence, Kate thought it could have come to blows before the entire group was called into the chamber.
The two ladies-in-waiting took their places beside the queen, who was looking upon the assembled group with a stern and composed expression on her face. Kate saw immediately what had happened. Samuels had insisted on speaking with her. Elizabeth had probably thought it unwise to cross him out of spite, but had invited some of his least favorite people in as well.
"Your Majesty," Samuel said, once the short pleasantries had been hastily dispensed with, "I have been willing to give you the benefit of the doubt on more than one occasion since you took the throne. Even the matter with the Caldoran could be excused by virtue of your youth. But this - a child could choose a better course of action!"
Kate glanced at Lady Sarah, whose hand was still on Jack's arm. She did not look comfortable, but neither did she look as though she was ready to bolt. Jack, on the other hand, was fairly seething by this point.
Elizabeth, for her part, remained calm and did not stoop to his level. "Lady Sarah came here with information concerning the Goa'uld," she said. "Information which could be vital to us in securing our realm's safety. The conventions of any civilized nation would dictate that she be granted safe harbor. She is also one of our people, which gives us even more reason to offer her our hospitality."
Samuels huffed. "Your Majesty, this is naïve at best. She consorted with the Goa'uld for ten years."
"She was held against her will, my lord," Elizabeth replied, a hint of coldness in her voice now. "That is not the same as consorting with them."
"And in ten years, she never saw fit to escape?" he shot back. "No, that is consorting, and allow me to inform you that no one can come out of that country without bearing their foul stench."
Jack and Daniel both shifted, one in anger and the other in discomfort, but Elizabeth merely raised a brow at him. "And how would you know such a thing, Lord Samuels?" she asked. Kate knew from various conversations that she was tired of hearing her cousin and her friend maligned for having dealt with the Goa'uld in the past, so it was remarkable to her that she was keeping her temper in control.
But before Samuels could answer the question, Lady Sarah took a small step forward. "Your Majesty," she said, her voice soft and unassuming, "I feel I must thank this gentleman."
Samuels was taken aback, and Elizabeth looked at her sharply. "Indeed?" she said.
"Yes," she replied. "He has reminded me that I have been here for some time and have not yet pledged my loyalty to you. I wish to rectify this at once."
Had it not been for the moment of surprise on the queen's face, Kate might have thought that Elizabeth had planned this. She was quick to take advantage of it, however, and she nodded to Sarah. "The law requires three members of the college of lords be present for such a thing, so I believe we have witnesses enough."
She glanced at Samuels, as though daring him to escape. But while he was clearly unhappy, he stood where he was while Sarah approached the queen and knelt before her. Elizabeth looked down upon her and said, "Sarah of Berwynn, you are by inheritance a viscountess and a member of the college of lords. Do you claim these as your rights under the law?"
"I do," Sarah replied. "And I, Sarah, Viscountess of Berwynn, do swear true loyalty and faith to our lady Elizabeth, Queen of Atalan, defender of the realm."
Elizabeth gave her a regal nod, and Jack stepped forward to offer Sarah his hand and help her rise. In the meantime, Elizabeth looked at Samuels. "We thank you for your honest concern," she said. "However, we hope this has demonstrated that Lady Sarah's loyalty is not in question. You are dismissed."
After looking about the room for a moment as though hoping an ally would materialize out of nothing, Samuels stomped off. As soon as he was gone, the atmosphere in the room relaxed considerably. Elizabeth rose from her throne. "That was an excellent notion," she said, looking at Sarah.
"It seemed the fastest way to silence him, and anyone like him," Sarah replied. "And he was right, in part. I had given no one a reason to believe me loyal to you."
Kate thought Elizabeth might have argued the point, but she only pressed her lips together for a moment. "I am in your debt, for more reasons than one," she said.
Sarah nodded in reply, and with that Elizabeth left the room. Along with Laura, Kate followed her out, grateful that at least one crisis had been so cleanly averted.
Winter in Atlantis had not been much to John's liking. There was too much of everything: too much snow, too much ice, too much wind. The weeks he'd spent in Athos had not been much better. The village was not far enough inland to shield it from the raging storms.
But the sun finally appeared to be remembering them. The snow had melted, green plants began to sprout up from the earth, and the ocean calmed.
Once his work with Pendergast and the navy was done, John thought he might set forth to the mainland, to explore more of Atalan now that he seemed to be adopted into the country. But something about the palace had tethered him to the island, and while he liked the prospect of seeing more of the realm, he was reluctant to leave.
So on a beautiful afternoon, though the air was quite crisp, he found himself heading to a field between the palace walls and the shore, where half a dozen targets had been set up. With a quiver slung across his back and his longbow in hand, he felt as though life was returning to normal at last.
He had fired a handful of arrows into the target, getting more accurate and consistent as he went, when he saw motion out of the corner of his eye. There were new colors in his field of vision, and he knew he had an audience as he fired his next shot.
It struck dead center.
John turned then and nodded to the group observing him. Elizabeth had found him, along with Kate and Laura and Captain Lorne. It was the coltish queen herself, however, who commanded his attention, in her gown of crimson silk. He had been so busy with his work with Pendergast, he had not seen her in several days, and then only for a few moments.
"Good afternoon, Sir John," she greeted when she had reached him, her attendants standing several feet back.
She offered her hand, and he bowed to kiss it. "My lady," he replied. "It is a fine day."
"Indeed," she said with a smile. Then she gestured toward the targets. "That was most impressive."
John frowned as he headed toward the target to retrieve his arrows. He thought it a little odd that she had not observed a true master before, and he hardly qualified. "I should think there would be better archers in the palace defenses."
"There are, but not many," Elizabeth replied, and John could just barely detect her carefully covered distaste. He could guess who had made that decision. "In truth, there was some reason to it. We have other defenses, and here at the palace we have rarely seen raiders so bold as to attack us. The villages on the mainland are easier targets."
Pulling the last arrow from the target and turning back, he said, "But?"
"Jack has sent word to the army's encampments," she said. "A company of archers will be here soon."
John smiled at her. "Then I should practice while I have the targets to myself."
The smile he got in return was almost a grin, and she stood back as he nocked an arrow and fired it at the target. The arrow struck a little higher this time, but he hardly noted that. Instead, he drew an arrow and fired again, and thrice more in rapid succession. When he paused and looked at the queen, her eyebrows were raised in awe. "My lady," he said, "is something wrong?"
"I must confess myself a little amazed," she replied. "Could you. . . Could you show me how?"
He nodded, taking a step back. "As you wish."
Elizabeth stepped up to him and he motioned for her to turn around. She did, and he gently grabbed her shoulders to turn her a little more. "Look at the target," he instructed. "Raise your left hand." When she had done both, John placed the longbow in her open palm. Then he took a step back to look at her.
"The bow is almost as tall as me," she commented.
"But not taller," John replied. "And that is the important part." Then he gently grasped her arm and turned it. "Keep your elbow pointed out."
"Why?"
"You risk harming yourself if you do not," he explained. "Believe me, you do not want to feel the snap of a bowstring."
As he showed her how to nock an arrow, he could not help but notice that Lorne, Kate and Laura had moved further down the path, to a place where they could observe better. It made John feel somewhat nervous, though this was hardly the first time he had taught a person how to fire a longbow just in this month.
He cleared his throat and focused on the queen. "Now," he said, "draw the bow."
Elizabeth pulled on the string, focusing intently on the target, but stopped well before she should have. "Sir John," she said quietly, "this is a warrior's weapon. I have not the strength to draw it fully."
John should have stopped her then and moved her closer to the target, but he did not. Instead, he laid his left hand over hers on the bow and said, "May I?"
She nodded silently, and John wrapped his arm around her.
It took him a long time to realize that this was an awkward position from which to fire. He was distracted by the slip of a girl in his arms, her body pushing against his chest with every breath. He swallowed hard, trying to ignore the details of the situation, and pulled the string back. As he drew it, Elizabeth gasped and pressed back against him. Belatedly John realized that he had brushed his fingers against her breast. Somehow he could tell that she wished to speak, but she did not open her mouth. In return, he tried to look away from where the fabric stretched taut over her chest, but there were other distractions too. They were matched limb for limb, and he could feel her heart beating faster than it should have been, as did his. He could only hope she would not notice.
"On the count of three, let fly," he whispered. "One, two, three."
In unison they released the string, and Elizabeth could not have been more pleased with the result. The arrow had struck a little left of center, but for her first attempt at sighting a shot, she had done very well. When she looked over her shoulder at him, she smiled broadly and said, "May I try again?"
The second time, he did not give her guidance, stepping in only when she looked at him for help with the bowstring. But the third time, as she fired, she cried out.
John stepped around her in half a moment, taking the bow from her and setting it aside. "Your Majesty?" he said, while the others rushed toward them. "What is the matter?"
"The string," she said, her eyes welling up with tears.
He did not ask permission to push her left sleeve back, though Kate gave him a rather stern look for it. Her arm was red, and already starting to swell. "It is nothing serious," he said, more for the others' benefit. "But she is in no inconsiderable pain."
John glanced up at her face then and saw that she had shed a few tears. He wished very badly to say something to her, but suddenly could not think of the words. Thankfully, Kate drew his attention away from the pair of large, green eyes that were staring back at him so intently. "Sir John, is there anything we can do to ease the pain for her?"
"Something cold will help. Is there ice in the kitchens?"
"You will not waste that on me," Elizabeth said, forcefully. "Draw water from the well. It will suffice."
Kate looked at the other woman. "Laura, fetch some cloths and meet us in the courtyard."
Laura turned and ran, and John offered Elizabeth his arm. She gave him a look of sheer gratitude, and they walked up to the palace, Lorne and Kate behind them. Lorne drew water from the courtyard well, and by the time the bucket had reached the top, brimming with cool water, Laura had returned, breathless and bearing strips of cloth.
The ladies and the guard allowed John to tend to the bruises on the queen's arm, and he imagined that he was the only one there who had ever encountered such an injury. Lorne did not have the look of an archer, and Kate and Laura had vastly different concerns than the care of combat wounds. Then Elizabeth surprised them all and said, "Laura, Kate, Captain, I wish to speak privately with Sir John."
Laura opened her mouth to say something, but Kate curtseyed, grabbed Laura's arm, and headed out with her. Lorne bowed and followed them, retreating to a discreet distance, and John looked up at Elizabeth with a brow raised. "Your Majesty?" he prompted, wondering if he was about to be reprimanded for something.
"I want to ask something which may be uncomfortable for you," Elizabeth replied. "I thought it best that you not have an audience."
John dipped another cloth into the cold water and laid it over her outstretched arm. She hissed at the contact. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "What is it you wish to know?"
She bit her lip for a moment. "You told me once that you were called to defend Caldora when you were younger. Did you serve in the Ori war?"
The question was so unexpected to him that he could only stare. "How did you know?"
Elizabeth looked so uncertain that John almost wanted to withdraw his question. But after a few moments, she looked him in the eye again and said, "A few minutes ago you fired so rapidly, and there was a look on your face. . . I have little experience with such things, but you have the manner of a man who has seen war."
Slowly, John nodded. "Do you remember the Ori?"
She shook her head minutely. "I was two years old when they came here," she replied. "The consequences of their arrival still linger, but no, I do not remember them."
"Then I am not certain you can understand those days," John said. "The Ori were persuasive in many ways. When they could not persuade with the promises of wealth and glory, they persuaded with threats. They were going to war with the Ancients, and they wanted to raise an army."
"I know," Elizabeth said. "My father refused them. They burned fields and forests, and they killed my people without mercy. Father was injured then. He never truly recovered." She shook her head. "But you must have been a child then."
"I was fourteen," he replied. "The youngest of six sons. The old king sent us all."
"Fourteen," she breathed. John knew what had happened to her when she was barely past that age. It was only a few years younger than she was now.
"I was gone for most of a decade. We all were," he continued. He thought of the Ancient woman who helped him escape both armies, seeing that he was not truly a part of this conflict, but that would be a tale for another time. His voice grew rough. "I was the only one of my father's house to return."
"John-"
Whatever she wished to say died on her lips, for John noticed a smudge of dirt on her face, and he touched her cheek lightly with his fingertips. The smudge had probably come from his own hand. John took the last of the cloths and wetted it, wringing it out as much as possible, and cleaned the dirt away. Folding the cloth over, he wiped away the tear streaks too, and as he brushed by her parted lips, he realized that she was holding her breath. Her hand had closed around his, or perhaps it was the other way around.
In that moment, Elizabeth looked less regal yet more beautiful, and John suddenly wanted to kiss her very badly.
But in the next moment, Elizabeth's eyes flickered away, and she said, "Cousin."
John looked over his shoulder to see Daniel, and he pulled his hand away from hers. "Pardon my intrusion, Majesty," Daniel said, "but you're to meet with the ambassador from Iolan in a few minutes."
"Thank you," she replied. "I shall be there directly." Gingerly, Elizabeth removed the wet strips from her arm and pulled her sleeve down over the welt. "Thank you, Sir John, for your assistance," she added, seeming a little distracted before she exited the courtyard.
John lingered behind, cleaning up the mess. Daniel stayed too, and after a brief silence he said, "May I ask what you were doing, Sir John?" It was not a request.
"There was an accident," John replied. "She wanted to learn to fire a bow, and the string snapped her arm."
"That is not what I meant," Daniel said. "She may be queen, but she is young. With youth comes vulnerability."
John frowned deeply, almost scowling. "What are you implying?"
"That you should be careful, sir," the duke advised. "And that whatever your intentions, you cannot play games with her."
Daniel left then, without letting John respond at all, even if he had been able to come up with an answer. He had thought his actions required no explanation, but apparently such was not the case. The admonishment held a hint of threat in it, and he knew the other man was serious. He had seen in the last six months that the queen's closest circle of advisors were protective of her, but never thought would affect him beyond wary glances. After all, what was the danger in such a friendship?
But as he walked outside again to retrieve his bow and arrows, he remembered the allure of wide green eyes and the lingering touch of a woman, and he knew with sudden certainty why he did not wish to leave the island of Atlantis.
That evening, Sarah did not join Jack for supper. Her absence left him feeling strange, and he found it a little odd that he had so quickly grown accustomed to her presence. After the sun had set, he went looking for her, and found her on the western rooftop terrace. He was somewhat surprised that the guards had allowed her up there. For a long time Elizabeth had used that as a place of privacy, saying she sometimes felt too cloistered in her garden and needed the whip of the sea air.
On this evening, it was snowing.
When he joined Sarah along the parapet, she was smiling to herself. "Do you have any idea how long it has been since I watched snow falling?" she asked. "I've spent the last ten years in a desert."
"It will not stick," Jack replied. "It's been warm enough these past few days that the ground is not cold."
"I know." Sarah inhaled deeply. "But it is beautiful anyway."
He nodded, but turned his attention to another subject. "You did a brave thing this afternoon," he said quietly.
Sarah looked at him, confused. "By pledging loyalty to the queen?"
"By thwarting Samuels," Jack corrected. "He's an idiot, but he has allies."
For a while they stood there silently, looking out to the shipyard and the sea beyond. The Queen Margaret was probably just out of sight, patrolling the island, and two of her sister-ships lay in waiting in the yard, almost finished and ready to be christened. Even at this distance he could see flags waving upon their masts in the light breeze.
He knew Elizabeth was proud of what she and the realm had accomplished over the course of the winter, and it was laudable. But Jack remembered the navy before the Ori, when great warships had sailed the world proudly and every nation feared their might. He could not help but be a little sad that the navy had fallen so far. It was truly miraculous that none but the Wraith had attempted to prey upon their coasts in the intervening time.
And after everything Elizabeth had done to hasten the navy's reconstruction, the greatest threat loomed in the south, across the mountains. The irony was not lost on him.
But for now, they could only bide their time, and pray.
Beside him Sarah sighed, drawing him out of his thoughts. "What is it?" he asked.
She shook her head. "I came here in hopes of helping," she replied. "And I believe I have, but the waiting. . ."
"I know."
She turned and looked at him, and not for the first time he marveled at how very tall she was. As tall as Daniel, and nearly as tall as himself. She licked her lips nervously. "I think I would have run mad these past few weeks, had it not been for your kindness," she said softly.
When she stopped talking, Jack realized that he was still staring at her mouth. He'd had some vague and scattered thoughts in the past weeks, most of them boiling down to the fact that Sarah was a beautiful woman, but suddenly the abstract and general were becoming concrete and specific. She was beautiful and strong and touching his arm tenderly and he was only mortal.
He took a half step forward and kissed her gently. At first neither of them moved, and it occurred to Jack that it had probably been a very long time since Sarah had consented to be kissed. He drew back slightly, his lips not quite touching hers, and her hand came to rest over his heart. Thus encouraged, he brought one hand up to touch her face, and he kissed her again.
This time she responded, her lips moving with his, and when he slid his hand through her thick, curly hair to cup the back of her head, she whimpered a little. It had been some time since he'd been in this situation, and he found himself wanting more. When Sarah wound her arms around his neck, he pulled back and looked at her for a moment. It seemed she was as confused as he was, and Jack held her closer and kissed her deeply.
He was just beginning to give thought to what might happen if someone found them like this when Sarah abruptly pulled away. She was breathing heavily, her arms still around him, and the confusion Jack had seen before was mixed with something else he couldn't read. When she tried to step back, he let her. "What are we doing?" she asked, almost whispering.
"I don't know," Jack answered honestly.
She stepped back again, and she was looking anywhere but at him. "I should go," she said.
She fled without another word, and Jack did not hinder her as she left. Instead, he stayed in the cold evening air and wondered if this was something more than idle curiosity at work.
Too restless to settle for the evening, John wandered down to the stables to visit Silvanus. The wet snow outdoors meant he was alone with the animals. He fed his horse one of the apples he had brought, brushing the brown coat absently even though it was not strictly needed.
Across from them, the queen's mare, Megaera, snorted and shook her head.
"Should I have let you win, Princess?" The memory of his race with Elizabeth on the beach came back to him. Her small pout when he had beaten her, the look in her eyes when he helped her down from the horse's back, and the brief moment she had lingered far closer to him than necessary before moving away.
Silvanus turned to nudge him. John fed him another apple and then bit into the third one as he leaned against the door of the stall, watching the snow.
He had been retracing his friendship with Elizabeth all evening, ever since Daniel's oblique threat in the courtyard earlier. On some level, he was trying to convince himself that his sudden revelation this afternoon had been wrong. John had known since his arrival the previous fall that his relationship with the young monarch defied convention and propriety in many respects. He hadn't questioned it too closely, and now he wondered if he had been afraid of the answer, or willfully trying to deceive himself.
Shutting his eyes, John was once again kneeling before Elizabeth in the courtyard today, her hand holding his tightly, his own fingers brushing her cheek, staring at her parted lips fixedly. His blood heated at the mere memory.
He had not seen her since then, and he wondered if this intense longing to kiss her would reappear the next time they encountered each other. He suspected that such a desire would be impossible to forget, once acknowledged.
The truth was that his feelings for her were not solely that of a knight for his queen, or even a gentleman for a friend. He loved her. Thinking back, John finally admitted to himself that he had probably loved her from the moment he first set eyes on her. He remembered that day well, Elizabeth sitting in her garden and laughing, remembered touching her hand for the first time, the way her cheeks turned pink as she looked at him. In the months since, he had used every trick at his disposal to provoke that reaction from her as frequently as possible, both for the pleasure of seeing her and also for the warmth she produced in him.
His intentions toward her had always been honorable, but he looked back now with a new understanding. He could not help that his mind recalled in perfect detail the feeling of her body in his arms earlier today, of the way she had gasped when his fingers had brushed against her. It had been an accident, but it stirred questions about how she would react to a different type of contact, one that was not so innocent.
He stared at the half-eaten apple in his hand, but his eyes saw every blush he'd drawn from Elizabeth over the winter. He saw every smile she had bestowed on him. He saw her eyes, vividly, as they fixed on his and neither of them had been able to look away, more times than he could count.
John closed his eyes.
Elizabeth did care for him. He was certain of it, as certain as he was of his own heart. He could not say whether she felt as deeply as he did for her, but she did care.
Trying to calm himself, he stepped forward and offered the fruit to Megaera. She nibbled almost daintily and he smiled a little.
It was no great wonder that the queen's advisors had been so afraid of him all this time. They had seen the way Elizabeth reacted to him, as well as the way he had reacted to her. Had Teyla not been teasing him about his own misery when he believed Elizabeth would never trust him again? It had been apparent to everyone but themselves.
And now that he knew his own mind? The men who guarded Elizabeth had been worried about his effect on her when John himself had no thought but to be her friend and serve her. If his goal was more than friendship...
His fingers tightened in Megaera's mane unconsciously. In all honesty, he would not care for the differences in rank, nor for the certain objections of her advisors and the college of lords to the monarch marrying any Caldoran, much less a disgraced exile. Their protests would matter little when weighed in the balance against being Elizabeth's husband. For that honor he would face far greater dangers than some squabbling lords and gossiping ladies.
But Elizabeth's sense of duty was incised in her down to the marrow. Nothing mattered more to her than her people and her responsibility to her realm. Which was as it should be, and one of the things he admired about her, but John ached at the thought. How could he possibly convince her to set aside the wishes of her family and her people?
Assuming she would even want him in the first place.
Sarah did not sleep much that night. Her heart never seemed to stop racing. She tried her best to relax, feeling desperately that she needed to rest, but she simply could not calm down.
She was not a schoolgirl, she reminded herself, and had not succumbed to such a fit of nerves since she was a child. Something about the situation was terribly wrong. She was not even entirely certain of what she felt about Jack, but she had not told him the truth. Perhaps the manner of her escape from the Goa'uld did not affect the veracity of her claims, but she had not trusted him. At the moment, that was the greater sin.
She rose at first light, her entire body aching. Her intention was to seek out Jack before official business at the palace began, but it seemed he had had the same thought, for when she opened the door, he was on the other side. "My lord," she said, surprised.
"Sarah, may I speak with you for a moment?" he asked.
"Yes, of course," she replied, stepping aside to let him into the room. "I was on my way to find you, actually."
"Indeed?"
Sarah nodded.
"Do I owe you an apology for what happened last night?"
She began to blush, which made him chuckle. "Believe me, Jack, I do not feel wronged. Not in the slightest."
Jack looked rather smug for a moment, but that made Sarah feel a little more nervous. She backed away from him and sat down at a small table. "A few weeks ago," she said, deciding that bluntness was, in this case, the better part of valor, "I told you how I escaped from the Goa'uld, and now I must confess to you that I was not truthful with you."
He sobered immediately, crossing his arms over his chest and watching her seriously. "I had my suspicions, even then," he replied.
That was not surprising. "What I told you was what the Tok'ra spy assumed," she explained. "While he was helping me reach the Talas mountains, I tried to convince myself that it was the truth."
Jack's voice was low and gentle when he spoke. "Is there blood on your hands, Sarah?"
She looked up and saw only sympathy in his brown eyes. Silently, she nodded.
He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Sarah, you are not the only person I have known who escaped the Goa'uld," he said. "The one thing they all have in common is that they had to kill to do it. Whomever you struck was taking your life from you, little by little."
Sarah jumped up and stepped away, as though his touch suddenly burned. "Jack, you don't understand," she protested. "I killed Osiris. I walked into his chambers in midday and slit his throat while he slept."
"Sarah," he said, but she would not look at him.
"Malek found me there an hour later," she continued. "There was so much blood. He had already learned my identity, and he helped me cross the desert and reach the mountains because he thought my intention was to warn Atalan."
She hazarded a glance at Jack and saw him frowning in confusion. "Wasn't it?"
As tears began to well up in her eyes, she shook her head. "No. I did not decide to deliver a warning to you all until I had reached Atalan," she said. "When I learned that the army might strike here, I was livid. After ten years of slavery, ten years of being forced to share that pig's bed, it was more than I could bear. So I killed him. Took my revenge in the only way that seemed right."
Her voice broke, and she turned away, covering her face as she cried, not wanting Jack to see the shame she'd tried so hard to suppress. But before long, his hands rested on her shoulders, and then he pulled her into a fierce embrace.
"I believe you," he said into her ear. Slowly Sarah wrapped her arms around him and held on, thinking that he could not possibly know how much those words meant to her. But what he said next surprised her. "No one will learn of this from me."
She pulled back to look him in the eye, and what she saw was deadly serious. Then he brushed the wetness from her face with his thumbs, just before he leaned in and kissed her softly. "He got what he deserved, Sarah," he said. "And frankly, the fact that you feel guilt for killing a monster. . ."
"What?" she asked.
"It means he did not strip you of everything." Jack traced his thumb against her cheek again. "It means you're still whole." Then his voice lowered dangerously. "I only wish I could have killed him myself."
"Jack."
He drew her close again, stroking her back and brushing his lips against the base of her neck. Sarah shivered and embraced him once more. Light kisses reached her jaw, her cheek, her temple, and she let out a quiet sigh. "Jack," she breathed, and he leaned his forehead against hers. "I don't understand."
"I'm not good at talking," he told her. "I'm better at doing."
She swallowed hard. "And after what I just told you?"
"I'm a soldier, Sarah," he replied. He said no more than that, but Sarah understood what he meant. A crime of passion was not much different than a crime of war, and if he could not forgive her, neither could he forgive himself.
Slowly, she brought her hand up to touch his face, her palm cupping his cleanly shaved cheek. She still did not fully understand what was happening, but this was something else Osiris had stolen from her youth - the confusion, the anxiety, the strange warmth wherever he touched her. But she was no young girl, blushing and pure, and everything was made more complicated now by what had been done to her and what she had done.
He leaned in to kiss her, and she let herself respond to the feel of his mouth against hers. There would be time enough to sort everything out in days to come. For now, this was enough.
Jack had breakfast in the nobles' dining hall with Sarah, though neither of them talked much during the meal. He could not begin to guess where her thoughts were, but his were racing from one subject to another. She had killed Osiris. She had told him the truth at last. She had not pushed him away when he'd kissed her.
He had no idea what most of that meant.
Sarah returned to her chambers after the meal, but Jack sought out the queen. She was probably having breakfast with Kate and Laura just now, before he and Daniel came to brief her on the day's activities. When he arrived at the royal chambers, he discovered that he was right. "Jack," she said, smiling brightly upon seeing him. "You're early. Will you join us?"
"I'm sorry to interrupt," he replied, "but I need to speak with you privately."
Elizabeth glanced at Laura and Kate, who swiftly left the room, taking some of the food with them. When the door to the bedroom was closed behind them, she looked at Jack. "What is the matter?"
"I know you told me to say nothing of the manner of Sarah's escape if it was not crucial to the truth of her warning," he said, taking a seat next to her. "But at the same time, I know you would always wonder and worry if I said nothing."
"Then she has told you the truth?" Elizabeth asked.
Jack nodded. "You have nothing to fear from her."
The queen sighed in relief and her whole body relaxed. "Thank you," she said quietly.
"There is something I should tell you, however," he continued. "She was able to escape because Osiris died suddenly."
Her eyes narrowed. "Why was she afraid to divulge that before?"
Jack could tell that she was likely to figure it out eventually, but he would not betray Sarah's confidence. "When are our fears ever rational, Elizabeth?" he asked gently.
Elizabeth was quiet for a moment. "This could work to our advantage," she said. "There is likely to be conflict over his territories now that he is dead, which could stall and weaken any possible incursion."
He nodded. "That was my reason for telling you."
There was a knock on the door, and Elizabeth called for the person to enter. It was Peter Grodin, holding a folded and sealed paper in his hand. "Your Majesty," he said, "forgive my intrusion, but a messenger just arrived from the mountains."
Elizabeth rose so quickly she almost knocked her chair over. Jack was up a moment later, and he watched as she took the message from Peter and opened it with shaking hands. As she read, all the color drained from her face. "Jack," she said in a voice that filled him with dread, "find Daniel. Meet me in my audience chamber."
Though her advisors were gathered before her, Elizabeth was still pacing silently, ignoring their presence. The message from the mountain sentries was still in her hands, crumpled from much wringing. "My lady?" Daniel said at last.
Elizabeth shook her head. "Not yet."
Then one of the massive oak doors behind the group swung open, and John of Sheppard entered. Elizabeth stopped her pacing and looked at him. He looked around tentatively as the guard outside closed the door behind him. "Your Majesty?" he asked from across the room.
"The Goa'uld have attacked Caldora," she said, looking only at him. "Through the province of Sheppard. They crossed the Mearali River ten days ago."
John's face turned ashen as she spoke. For a long time the room was silent, until Elizabeth could no longer bear the weight of his gaze and she turned away.
Fortunately, Jack seemed to understand why she had called them all together. He turned to Daniel. "The Tok'ra still have good relations with Caldora, right?" he asked.
"Yes," Daniel replied. "And given their historic enmity with the Goa'uld, they're likely to give aid to Caldora. Perhaps even troops."
The calm, reasoned discussion helped Elizabeth focus, and she took to pacing again. "I must inform the college of lords of this aggression," she said. "The Goa'uld could well turn their eyes to us next, and heaven knows that ought to get their attention."
"What are you thinking, cousin?" Daniel asked, sounding equally curious and apprehensive about her answer.
Elizabeth took a moment to seat herself on her throne, though this position placed her opposite John once more. Deliberately she looked to Daniel again and asked, "What would happen if I threw my support behind Caldora?"
There was only a moment of silence before Daniel and Jack both started talking to her at once. Elizabeth did not let it last long before she raised her hand to silence them. "Do not think of how I would show my support," she elaborated. "That is a detail for another time, when we have more information from them."
Daniel cleared his throat. "The Jaffa may be enemies of the Goa'uld, but they have never been friends of Caldora. If you show your support, it is more likely that they will stand with Caldora as well."
"And by that logic, so would Iolan," Elizabeth replied. "Surely the Goa'uld would not be so foolish as to stand against five nations."
"Would you be willing to broker such an alliance, my lady?" Kate asked. "That would be no small task."
"I cannot say now," she said. "There are too many things I do not know. It may well be that Caldora does not need our aid."
At last, John spoke. "They will," he said quietly, but the sound of his voice made everyone turn and look at him. "They lost a generation of men. They have not the might to turn back an invasion alone. The real question is whether or not they will be humble enough to ask for your help."
Slowly, Elizabeth nodded. "We must send official word of this to Sir Jacob and the Tok'ra, though they may know already," she said. "If the Tok'ra do offer troops to Caldora and need passage through Atalan, I will give Sir Jacob the authority as my ambassador to grant it. As I understand the law, I do not need to bring that before the college of lords before I make such a decision." Then she turned to Jack and Daniel specifically. "I need this news spread among the lords who are already here, as I want them all to know of this before I address the full assembly. Lord George arrives in a few days, does he not?"
"At the earliest we expect him a day after tomorrow," Daniel replied.
"Then send a messenger to intercept him," Elizabeth ordered. "He does not need to hasten his return, but I wish him to know as quickly as possible."
Daniel and Jack both nodded their agreement, and Elizabeth looked about the room. "And I wish to speak with Sir John," she said quietly. "Alone."
The men in particular seemed reluctant to leave, but Kate and Laura led the way. John stayed where he was, simply staring at her. The look on his face made her want to cry. "What makes you so sure that Caldora will turn to you for aid?" he asked once the others were all gone. The tone in his voice suggested that he already knew the answer.
Elizabeth closed her eyes for a moment. "Three weeks ago when Lady Sarah arrived, she brought news that the Goa'uld had amassed an army within striking distance of both Caldora and Atalan," she explained, as calmly as she could. "I sent a messenger to warn King Henry, but he could not have arrived more than a day or two before the attack. If that much."
The look on his face was one of horror and betrayal. "What are you playing at?" he asked, his voice rising. "These three weeks you have known that my father was in danger, and yet you said nothing?"
"There were many people in danger, Sir John," she replied, feeling her own temper rising. "I did not have enough information to share publicly, so I decided not to cause public panic-"
"No, my lady," he interrupted, stepping closer at last. "You kept this from me. After everything I have done to try to win back your trust - have I done something now to lose it again?"
"John, how could you-" Elizabeth started to say, but she checked herself. She did not understand what it was about this man that intensified everything she felt, but she had to be the master of herself now. Nervously she bit her lip, and then she rose. "I did not conceal this from you to hurt you," she said, doing her best to keep from raising her voice.
"Then why?" he demanded.
"I could not tell you," she insisted. "Believe me, I am not lying to you."
He swallowed hard and looked away. "After my illness this winter you made me swear that I had disclosed everything to you," he said. "Am I now to learn that you will not extend the same courtesy to me?"
"John, you're not being reasonable," Elizabeth replied, but the truth of his words made her feel very small.
"Reasonable?" he asked. "My family was on the front lines of a war I knew nothing about! These are people I love! Since when is anyone supposed to be reasonable about such a thing?"
By that point they were standing closely in front of each other. "John, please," she said in a soft voice, hoping it would assuage him. "Please try to understand."
He hesitated a moment, then brought his hands up to her face, startling her. No man had ever touched her like this, and something about the warmth of his hands against her cheeks made her heart race. "Majesty, tell me the truth," he said. He had no right to order her like that, but she did not think of it. His green eyes were filled with something stark and intense and painful and she could not look away.
"There are some things you are not privileged to know," she said. "You are neither my advisor nor my husband, and I simply cannot tell you everything."
Slowly he removed his hands from her face. "Then that is how it's to be?" he asked. "Secrets always between us?"
They stood then not as friends, nor even as a man and a woman, but as a Caldoran before the Queen of Atalan. This had happened once before, and Elizabeth was fairly desperate not to see this end the same way. "I wanted to tell you," she replied. "Truly. I almost did. But my duty to Atalan and her laws must always come first. I hope you would not wish me to act otherwise."
John looked away from her then, rubbing his face with his hand. "I should go," he said. "I should write to. . . someone. My cousin, perhaps. I want to know if my father is still alive."
Elizabeth nodded, and he turned toward the door. But impulsively she grabbed him by the arm. "John, wait," she said.
"What?"
Setting caution and propriety at naught, she closed the gap between them and embraced him, wrapping her arms tightly around his shoulders. He did not move at first, but then his hands lightly rested against her back, as though he was worried about being caught in this position. "Your Majesty?" he prompted.
"I'm so sorry," she replied. "But whatever Caldora needs, if it is in my power, I will grant it. You have my word."
A few seconds later, his arms tightened around her. Though all the world around them was threatening to unravel, they both held on.