Fic: Field of Daisies
Title: Field of Daisies
Author:
angelqueen04
Rating: PG-13
AU:
wildwest_lantis
Character(s): John Sheppard, Ronon Dex, Teyla Emmagan, Jack O'Neill, Cameron Mitchell, Teal'c, Steven Caldwell, Elizabeth Weir, Halling, etc.
Pairing(s): John/Elizabeth, light Ronon/Janet
Summary: Questions are raised when John and Ronon witness a Wraith attack that cultimates in several prisoners being taken.
Author's Notes: Many, many thanks to
irony_rocks for betaing!
Prologue
June 13, 187-
Washington D.C.
Dear Steven,
I have say I was surprised to receive your letter. If I recall our last meeting correctly, you informed me quite clearly that you were done with any sort of military life. Look at you now, though: Sheriff of perhaps one of the most successful and visible towns in Colorado, outside of Denver. I must say, I was surprised to hear that you were assigned to that place. From what I've been told, no one thought Jacob Carter would ever retire. Still, we each of us have our own time.
Now, in response to your query, I believe I have the answer, though perhaps not the one you were expecting. Concerning this man you have inquired about, John Sheppard...
Part One
John Sheppard took a gulp of water from his canteen, his sharp green eyes taking in the dry landscape around him. The hot Colorado sun radiated down on the earth, baking pretty much everything, including him. It wasn't even high noon yet and already the heat was nearly unbearable. What he wouldn't give right now to be at Miss Mal Doran's café, sharing a cool glass of lemonade with Elizabeth Weir instead of being out in the middle of nowhere.
The sound of a cantering horse brought the gunslinger out of his thoughts. Quickly setting his canteen to hang from the pummel of his saddle, John thought about reaching for his gun, just in case, but settled for waiting to see who it was first.
He relaxed when his friend and partner, Ronon Dex, appeared instead from behind a cusp of trees, resting comfortably on the back of his tan stallion. He slowed down as he approached.
"Nothing from that end," he said simply, not elaborating.
John just nodded. They'd been out hunting for nearly three weeks, searching for any sign of the Wraith gang and any hints of their next attack. So far, they'd found next to nothing. The Wraith were getting better and better at keeping their movements secret, a rather recent development. When he and Ronon had first stated their hunt several years ago, it hadn't been all that hard to follow and keep track of them. All they'd really had to do was follow the black clouds of smoke and go in the opposite direction of where terrified settlers were retreating from. Nowadays, there were few, if any, obvious markers of the Wraith's movements, something that frustrated both him and his partner.
They maneuvered their horses together and continued moving through the blistering hot country. John took the bandana from his neck and wiped the sweat from his face. The two men kept trudging on for nearly an hour before they spotted several white wisps of smoke coming from beyond the crest of the next hill. They glanced at one another and then quickly moved their horses over to a large tree. Dismounting, they tied their horses to one of the lower branches and quietly moved towards the top of the hill, dropping low to the ground as they went.
When they reached the top, they peered over. Instead of seeing a raiding party of the Wraith gang, they found a large encampment. Even from a distance, they could see the people moving about the camp, weaving through the weather-stained tents. They could even hear the delighted squeals of children as they raced about the area.
John glanced at Ronon. "Kind of a big group for it to be a Wraith ruse," he commented. "You think it's legit?"
Ronon stared down at them. "Maybe," he said finally. "Probably."
John looked down at the encampment again. "They're being awfully noisy. They keep that up and they'll attract attention, mostly the bad kind." Slowly, he started to push himself back down the hill. Ronon followed.
"What are you doing?" He asked as they made their way back to their grazing horses.
"I'm just going to stop by, introduce myself to the new people in the area. Don't want to be un-neighborly, do we?"
John bit back a grin when the taller man rolled his eyes. He pushed himself back onto his horse and started up the hill, not surprised when Ronon followed. As they came closer to the camp and were noticed by the natives, they were careful to move slowly and not make any sudden or threatening moves. John got a better look at the people and their surroundings. Their belongings were neatly organized, all gathered up and ready to move. Nomads, he thought. They all looked like people who were used to moving around, and quickly too if need be.
His eyes landed on one woman who stepped forward in front of the rest. She looked up at them with dark and wary eyes, indicating that she was possibly of Indian descent, at least partially. Her hands were at her sides, though her right hand did brush the gun belt strapped to her hip. If a woman being armed wasn't unusual enough, the fact that she was dressed in trousers and a tunic only added to it.
"Greetings," she said politely. "I am Teyla Emmagan, daughter of Turghan."
"Hi," John returned lightly. "John Sheppard." He pointed to Ronon, who remained silent. "This is Ronon Dex. We're just passing through. Thought we'd introduce ourselves."
Teyla nodded, her henna-colored hair moving with the movement of her head. "We were just about to have our midday meal. Would you care to join us?"
"Sure."
They dismounted and two boys of about twelve years of age stepped forward and led their horses to a shady area where a large group of other horses were grazing. Teyla gestured for them to follow her and she led them to one of the tents. Stepping inside, John found that it was much larger than it appeared on the outside. Within the tent was a fairly well-sized table with two benches on either side. There were already a few people present, all of whom immediately stood up when the three of them entered.
Teyla moved to stand beside them and introduced them in turn. "This," she pointed to a tall man with a solemn face and sharp eyes, "Is Halling, son of Tobin." She pointed to a young boy of about eleven or twelve. "His son, Jinto."
The young woman finished the other introductions and invited them both to sit down with her people to eat. John eyed the food briefly, but when Ronon dug into his plate without complaint, he figured it was probably safe enough. It wasn't as though they'd had time to prepare some poisoned food to feed them or anything.
"Tell me Mr. Sheppard," Teyla said suddenly, "Why is it that you are so far away from civilization? We have been traveling for quite some time and have not seen any other people for many weeks."
He swallowed the piece of bread he'd just eaten before answering. "We're looking for signs of activity from a gang that harasses the settlers around this area," he told her. "Ronon and I usually make it a point to do thorough searches of these lands, and maybe even foresee their next attack."
Teyla did not answer immediately, though her eyes did drift over to meet Halling's grey gaze for several moments. John eyed them both, wondering what was going on.
Slowly, she replied, "This... gang that you speak of. Who are they?"
He looked at her in surprise. Even the strangers that sometimes passed through this area were at least somewhat familiar with the Wraith, having been warned about them beforehand. Were these people actually wandering through this part of Colorado with no knowledge of the Wraith?
"They're called the Wraith," Ronon said before John could answer. "They terrorize people, burn them out of their homes, and kill anyone that resists."
John continued to watch Teyla. She did not seem surprised at all by the larger man's brief description of the Wraith, though distress lurked in her eyes.
"Mr. Sheppard, Mr. Dex," she said at last, "We know of whom you speak. This group," she motioned with her hand, indicating the camp outside the tent, "Is all that remains of our people, the Athosians."
"We come from the southern territories," Halling explained coolly, his sharp eyes taking in both John and Ronon. "We have followed the gaming herds for many, many generations, though we have also been known to trade when we have the need or opportunity."
Teyla broke in again. "In the last several years, our people have come under various attacks. They speak as Americans do, but no laws of government or decency seem to hold them in check. I have even seen them attack the Union Army with impunity. Slowly, they have been whittling away at our people, until now it has come down to just us. We have been making our way up north, hoping to move beyond their sphere of influence."
Halling shook his head. "But if you have heard of them and are tracking their movements, then this means our traveling has been in vain. The Wraith will continue to hunt us no matter where we go."
John shook his head. "Not necessarily. If you move quickly and keep your camp quiet and hidden among the trees, you might be able to get through the area without being noticed. Also, if you try to stay near the various towns as much as possible, you might have an easier time of it. The Wraith don't attack towns too often," - except Atlantis, he thought, wincing inwardly - "Since there tends to be the heaviest resistance in the towns. They do have limited numbers, after all."
Teyla and Halling glanced at one another before she spoke. "Your words are wise, Mr. Sheppard," she said. "We will take them into account. We thank you." She then glanced down at the table, taking in the hardly touched food. "Come, we should eat. Let us talk of more pleasant things."
"Yes ma'am."
Part Two
As it turned out, John and Ronon ended up staying the rest of the day with the Athosians. It was quickly descending into dusk by the time they had a moment to even think ahead. Teyla's people had been very welcoming, very friendly, something that rather surprised John slightly, given all they had endured at the hands of the Wraith.
Since it was quickly growing dark, the two gunslingers knew they wouldn't get far in any direction, so Teyla offered them a small guest tent that could easily be established near the tent where they had eaten the midday meal. While the tent was being put up by several of the men, including Ronon, who insisted on helping, John found himself surrounded by Jinto and several of his friends, all pleading for a story of his exploits. When Teyla, who had been with him at the time, only smiled encouragingly, he sat down by the large communal fire and started telling them about the time Jack O'Neill had set so many fireworks at the previous year's Fourth of July celebration that he completely lost control of them. While the children had been rolling on the ground in hysterics, John recalled how Elizabeth had told him that Jack had done it initially just to impress Sam Carter. Sam, however, had only found the spectacle amusing, though she had been touched by his effort.
The next morning, John and Ronon rose early. They'd decided to move a little further south to look for signs of Wraith activity before turning around and making their way back to Atlantis. Ronon had grumbled a little bit at that part of the plan, but didn't put up as much resistance to the idea as he might have at one time. Idly, he couldn't help but wonder if Ronon was beginning to feel something of the same pull towards that town that he did. Ronon may have been right about John being enthralled with Elizabeth, but he wasn't blind either. He was very much aware of the surprising spark that had been present from the start between his friend and Janet Fraiser. Not many people were brave enough to stand up to him like that, much less a woman.
Of course, when he'd once mentioned that to Elizabeth, she had only laughed and said a woman didn't need brothers to look after her when she had Janet. Janet had practically all the men in Atlantis living in fear of her, something that amused the female population to no end, even the snippy old ladies who disapproved of Janet's independent ways.
As he and Ronon prepared their horses for travel, Teyla brought forward the group that had come to see them off. Both men turned to face her.
"We thank you for your advice in our traveling through this area and in avoiding the detection of the Wraith," she told them, bowing her head graciously to them. Ronon nodded shortly and John smiled.
"It was no problem," he replied. "It'll be good to know that your people will be able to get a fresh start once you make it further north. At least some of us can live free of having to worry about the Wraith."
With that, he tipped his hat politely and pushed himself up onto his saddle. When he turned back, he spotted Jinto and one of his sisters - Bretta, if he recalled correctly - rushing up to their sides, each holding out a bundle of cloth to them.
"It's some of Charin's special bread," Jinto explained. "She said you should have something decently healthy to eat on your way home."
John glanced over at Ronon, and then grinned when he saw Jinto's sister staring up at the larger man, her eyes bright. Slowly, he held out a hand and took the bundle from the young boy. "Give our thanks to Charin," he told him. "We'll definitely appreciate this on the ride back."
With one last respectful nod in Teyla and Halling's direction, John and Ronon directed their horses out of the Athosian camp. Once they were a few yards away, they picked up the pace, making their way towards the southern ridges that would lead them out of the valley.
"Nice people," John commented idly as they rode along.
"Yeah," Ronon agreed. "More people the Wraith could wipe out in an instant."
John shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. "They've made it this far and this long. They'll be okay." He really did not want to have the whole conversation again about how they should be doing more to bring down the Wraith instead of protecting Atlantis. They'd argued over it enough already.
"Right."
They rode together in silence for some time after that, each content with his own thoughts. They started up the ridges to leave the valley about twenty-five minutes after they set out, with Ronon leading the way. John idly glanced back the way they came from and froze. Smoke was billowing up from the location of the Athosian camp. He could see people running around and now that he was paying attention, John was almost certain he could hear shrill screams and gunshots.
John swore. "Damn it! Ronon, it's the Wraith!"
Both he and Ronon reacted automatically and instinctively. Both of them had ridden into battle on more than one occasion, and this probably wouldn't be the last time. Kicking their horses into a gallop, they raced back the way they'd come, pulling out their guns as they went.
To John, it felt almost like an eternity before they approached the Athosian camp. He saw the bodies and the various other figures on horseback, all shooting at their respective targets. Nearly as one, both he and Ronon opened fire. Their shots hit their marks, but the further into the camp they moved, the fewer Wraith they found. They'd been retreating, which was unusual, given that there were people who were obviously still alive.
Reaching the center of the camp, John vaulted off his horse, reloading his gun without even having to look at it. His eyes taking in the scene, he found himself feeling sickened. Just the evening before he had sat with these people and exchanged stories and ate a hearty meal, and now bodies littered the same grounds. Some were Wraith, giving evidence to the fact that the Athosians had fought back against their attackers, but far more of the bodies belonged to the Athosians themselves.
Barely noting Ronon moving in a different direction, John's eyes fell on one figure crawling among the other bodies. The man's clothing was more similar to his own than it was to the Athosians. He had to be one of the Wraith, he decisively concluded. Gritting his teeth, John moved forward and planted his boot hard on the injured man's back, who, to his satisfaction, immediately grunted in pain. Kneeling down quickly, John yanked him over onto his back. Barely taking in the gaping wound in the man's chest, he focused on his shriveled, pot marked face. Despite his pain, the man sneered up at him defiantly.
"What were you doing?" John demanded, gripping the man's throat. "Tell me and I'll end it here instead of letting you slowly bleed to death."
The man only chuckled throatily, however, blood gurgling up and appearing at the corners of his mouth. His eyes slid shut even as John shook him, trying futilely to keep him alive.
John stared down at him coldly for a moment, until he heard the sound of footsteps stumbling closer. He immediately looked up, his grip on his gun tightening. He relaxed slightly, though, when he recognized the familiar form of Jinto.
The boy looked around at the camp, horror etched on his young features, before settling his terrified gaze on him. "I-I can't find my father or my sisters," he stuttered, sounding as though he was fighting back tears.
The gunfighter quickly stood up and moved over to the boy, placing a steady hand on his slim shoulder. "We'll try to find them," he assured him, careful to hide his growing doubts at discovering Halling, Bretta, or little Tiern alive in the carnage surrounding them. Let the boy have some hope, he thought, even if it didn't last.
--
Next Part