'Gate fic: "Rituals of Remembrance"
"Rituals of Remembrance"
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Pairing: Jack/Daniel
Rating: PG
Spoilers: "Children of the Gods," "Forever in a Day," "Pretense"
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and all constituent parts belong to many people, including MGM, Double Secret Productions (Jonathan Glassner and Brad Wright) and Gekko Film Corp (an Anderson/Greenburg Company). None of these people are me. No money was made, no animals were harmed, and no blood was shed in the writing of this fic. Please don't sue.
Summary: Daniel celebrates the first anniversary of Sha're's death, and discovers that more time has passed than he realized.
Notes: For contrelamontre's change over time challenge. Written in about fifty minutes. Cross-posted to contrelamontre, jackslashdaniel, stargateslash, and wisdomeagle
Feedback: Yes please? Concrit welcomed.
A year after Sha're died, Kasuf summoned Daniel to Abydos to perform the second rituals of passing. It was the first time Daniel had been there since the funeral, which he hardly remembered. It had been a vague blur of sensations, sand, silt, wind whipping his robes and the choking clot of tears in his throat. It had been a year, and he still hadn't cried.
Jack didn't want to let him go by himself. It seemed reasonable. Daniel wasn't sure himself that he would be able to face the tribe on his own. He would have to see Skaara, whom he hadn't seen since Klorel had been removed, and that had also been almost a year ago. Almost a year. And a year since he'd seen Sha're.
In the end, Hammond agreed to let the four of them go. He was reluctant to sacrifice his best team for a weekend of rituals, but Daniel suspected Jack had gone to him and explained the importance of rituals in building team spirit. Communitas, Daniel thought, knowing, of course, that Jack would never use a word like that. But that's what it was, the second funeral ritual. A community-building ritual.
The sands of Abydos were hot under their feet, the sun blistering. It was planting-time. Daniel closed his eyes and could hear the villagers in the distance, shouting to each other, laughing, singing the traditional songs of planting. Burn brightly, Ra, and make our crops to grow, strong and hale like the people of Abydos. "They're still singing to Ra," Daniel said. "I tried to make them stop, but it's important for them to have some connection with their ancestors. The ancestors all worshipped Ra,,,"
"Yes, Daniel. This is the nature of the Goa'uld threat. They get people to worship them. Pain, isn't it?" Jack's voice seemed sharper than usual. Daniel didn't like that Abydos was so harsh for all of them, that the air tasted like dung and spices, like coppery, dusty dreams.
"Come on," Sam said, the lightness of her voice obviously forced. "Let's find Kasuf. What's this ritual all about, Daniel?"
"It's remembrance," Daniel said. "A prayer to the ghost--er, the spirit--of the deceased, that his, well, her afterlife will be easy and that she will stay far away from the settlement. It's sort of... like a housewarming. Hope you're happy in your new home, please don't return to your old home."
Jack snorted.
Daniel tried to keep his steps even and light, not daring to leave so much as a footprint on the fine sands of Abydos. He felt like an intruder. He'd never felt like an intruder on Abydos. An explorer, an adventurer, certainly, and then a member of the village--a leader in the village, even. And then he'd been the chief mourner at Sha're's funeral. But now... now he was a stranger, and Abydos was still sunshiny and sandy and endless desert, and Daniel wasn't a desert child anymore.
Kasuf welcomed him with a formal hug, and Daniel felt awkward wrapped in it, a shirt that didn't quite fit right anymore. Jack was skimpy with public affection, and the Airmen in the locker room were harsh and cold and antiseptic in their homophobia. Touching men was not allowed under the new rules. Kasuf walked and embraced and lived in the Old Ways.
Daniel hadn't tried to explain it to Jack, but this ritual was really more for the mourners than for the deceased, who, if all had gone well, was supposed to be in the Western Lands, enjoying a lifetime of pleasure with the Gods. Daniel didn't like to think about Sha're's supposed afterlife, preferring, when he imagined it at all, to think of her as sleeping peacefully at last, safe in her own skin.
He discussed the prayers with Kasuf, briefly, making sure to eliminate all unwanted references to Apophis or, thank goodness, Ammonet. We prithee Ammonet, to watch over the lifeless corpse, to breathe your golden breath, to wash over the sanctified spirit, to live forever with your faithful ones... No. Anthropological detachment be damned, he couldn't pray those words in good faith.
The (now abridged) ritual called for the widower and the family to gather and sprinkle various herbs and recite certain sacred words. Kasuf was reluctant to let Sam and Jack, dressed in desert-beige cammo and looking wary, participate, although Teal'c, in formal robe and looking as stoic and impressive as ever, was welcome. Daniel thought for only a minute, then muttered the Abydonian word for family. Kasuf nodded understanding, and Daniel was grateful, not for the first time, that Kasuf was a wise father.
The rituals were, naturally, in Abydonian, and Daniel could tell that without a translation, Jack was going to get fidgety. So he stood next to him and whispered in his ear, "Now we're praying for Sha're's spirit... now we're blessing the ground where she's buried... now Kasuf is going to ask for guidance for the survivors. The Gods grant us permission to put off mourning, for our year-long obligation has ended, for we have successfully guided Sha're to the Blessed Realms in the West. We are free to go, to love again. I'm free to marry again...." He sighed. Jack adjusted the machine gun he insisted on holding. Kasuf continued to intone the long prayers of his people. Daniel was getting fidgety, himself. He wanted to sit somewhere isolated and remember Sha're on his own time.
Kasuf had other plans, though, and Skaara monopolized Jack for the rest of the day, showing him the small plot of land Kasuf had given him, introducing him to his friends, grinning proudly as he showed O'Neill off to all his comrades. Daniel was stuck sitting in a hot tent with Kasuf, who recited, in his careful English, all the good deeds Sha're had done. Daniel tried to smile sadly, but he was having trouble achieving any kind of emotion, hot and tired and itchy as he was.
That night, after wild dancing and drinking and memorializing Sha're by living as heartily as they could, the villagers finally retired, and Daniel was left sitting with his team around the still bright fire. Jack stared at the fire, brooding, and Sam and Teal'c looked even more out of place than Daniel felt. Finally he stood up, adopted the imperious tone he'd always used on Abydos to command respect, and said, "Bedtime. No need to keep watch: this is Abydos, after all. If trouble wants to find us, it will. Keeping watch never did any good in this place."
Sam stared blankly, Teal'c touched Daniel's shoulder in what might have been sympathy, and Jack took him by the crook of his arm and led him to their assigned tent, the same tent, though older and scruffier, that he had lived in with Sha're.
"How you doing?" Jack said.
"I'm fine," muttered Daniel.
"So you're free now to take another lover?"
Daniel choked on terribly bitter laughter. "I guess I don't have as much respect for the old traditions as I thought I did."
"You feel bad about... us? Wish you'd waited?"
"No, no. When I'm on Abydos, I observe the old ways, out of respect for my good-father, and respect for Sha're's memory, and because I choose, as an archeologist, to immerse myself in this culture. It's called participant observation..."
"Yes, but, do you feel guilty about it?"
"No."
"Daniel." He looked at Jack, sitting on a bedroll, his gun by his side, fiddling with a piece of grass. "It's okay to feel."
"Jack..." Daniel shuddered. "This place is full of ghosts. Full of memories. Of might-have-beens. If I hadn't unburied the Chapaiai, if I'd stayed, we would've been married for five years. I haven't stayed anywhere for five years, never in my life."
Jack said nothing, but his body language was open, his eyes pinned on Daniel's face. Jack, who never seemed to listen, yet somehow managed to know everything without Daniel ever having told him.
"When you got there... I'd practically gone native. The culture was becoming a blend of their rituals and my language, our advances and their beliefs. If I'd stayed, if only I'd stayed. If you'd let me stay, Jack..."
"That's what you really want? If we could do it all over again, you'd rather stay on Abydos with Sha're? Rather do your 'participant observation' and learn all about the Abydonians and form your half-assed theories about why they do things the way they do and... that's it? That's the life you want?"
"No," said Daniel, far too quietly. He'd forgotten how cloying and close the night air of Abydos was, how frightening the night-sounds were. He'd had nightmares about the dark consuming him. Abydos days were hot, but Abydos nights were sweltering and murky. They devoured, destroyed.
"Come 'ere," said Jack, patting the patch of ground beside him, and Daniel came and sat, his legs folded formally.
With his head this close to Jack's knee, with Jack's formal gruffness and protection filling the air with clarity, he could remember Sha're, could almost feel the ghost of her presence. The clump in his throat dissipated, and he felt comfortable tiredness spread through his limbs. Everything was regular, predictable. Everything was right. Sha're was dead and Jack was his lover and Abydos was foreign and yet, somehow, this was right.
He would sleep easy tonight.
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Pairing: Jack/Daniel
Rating: PG
Spoilers: "Children of the Gods," "Forever in a Day," "Pretense"
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and all constituent parts belong to many people, including MGM, Double Secret Productions (Jonathan Glassner and Brad Wright) and Gekko Film Corp (an Anderson/Greenburg Company). None of these people are me. No money was made, no animals were harmed, and no blood was shed in the writing of this fic. Please don't sue.
Summary: Daniel celebrates the first anniversary of Sha're's death, and discovers that more time has passed than he realized.
Notes: For contrelamontre's change over time challenge. Written in about fifty minutes. Cross-posted to contrelamontre, jackslashdaniel, stargateslash, and wisdomeagle
Feedback: Yes please? Concrit welcomed.
A year after Sha're died, Kasuf summoned Daniel to Abydos to perform the second rituals of passing. It was the first time Daniel had been there since the funeral, which he hardly remembered. It had been a vague blur of sensations, sand, silt, wind whipping his robes and the choking clot of tears in his throat. It had been a year, and he still hadn't cried.
Jack didn't want to let him go by himself. It seemed reasonable. Daniel wasn't sure himself that he would be able to face the tribe on his own. He would have to see Skaara, whom he hadn't seen since Klorel had been removed, and that had also been almost a year ago. Almost a year. And a year since he'd seen Sha're.
In the end, Hammond agreed to let the four of them go. He was reluctant to sacrifice his best team for a weekend of rituals, but Daniel suspected Jack had gone to him and explained the importance of rituals in building team spirit. Communitas, Daniel thought, knowing, of course, that Jack would never use a word like that. But that's what it was, the second funeral ritual. A community-building ritual.
The sands of Abydos were hot under their feet, the sun blistering. It was planting-time. Daniel closed his eyes and could hear the villagers in the distance, shouting to each other, laughing, singing the traditional songs of planting. Burn brightly, Ra, and make our crops to grow, strong and hale like the people of Abydos. "They're still singing to Ra," Daniel said. "I tried to make them stop, but it's important for them to have some connection with their ancestors. The ancestors all worshipped Ra,,,"
"Yes, Daniel. This is the nature of the Goa'uld threat. They get people to worship them. Pain, isn't it?" Jack's voice seemed sharper than usual. Daniel didn't like that Abydos was so harsh for all of them, that the air tasted like dung and spices, like coppery, dusty dreams.
"Come on," Sam said, the lightness of her voice obviously forced. "Let's find Kasuf. What's this ritual all about, Daniel?"
"It's remembrance," Daniel said. "A prayer to the ghost--er, the spirit--of the deceased, that his, well, her afterlife will be easy and that she will stay far away from the settlement. It's sort of... like a housewarming. Hope you're happy in your new home, please don't return to your old home."
Jack snorted.
Daniel tried to keep his steps even and light, not daring to leave so much as a footprint on the fine sands of Abydos. He felt like an intruder. He'd never felt like an intruder on Abydos. An explorer, an adventurer, certainly, and then a member of the village--a leader in the village, even. And then he'd been the chief mourner at Sha're's funeral. But now... now he was a stranger, and Abydos was still sunshiny and sandy and endless desert, and Daniel wasn't a desert child anymore.
Kasuf welcomed him with a formal hug, and Daniel felt awkward wrapped in it, a shirt that didn't quite fit right anymore. Jack was skimpy with public affection, and the Airmen in the locker room were harsh and cold and antiseptic in their homophobia. Touching men was not allowed under the new rules. Kasuf walked and embraced and lived in the Old Ways.
Daniel hadn't tried to explain it to Jack, but this ritual was really more for the mourners than for the deceased, who, if all had gone well, was supposed to be in the Western Lands, enjoying a lifetime of pleasure with the Gods. Daniel didn't like to think about Sha're's supposed afterlife, preferring, when he imagined it at all, to think of her as sleeping peacefully at last, safe in her own skin.
He discussed the prayers with Kasuf, briefly, making sure to eliminate all unwanted references to Apophis or, thank goodness, Ammonet. We prithee Ammonet, to watch over the lifeless corpse, to breathe your golden breath, to wash over the sanctified spirit, to live forever with your faithful ones... No. Anthropological detachment be damned, he couldn't pray those words in good faith.
The (now abridged) ritual called for the widower and the family to gather and sprinkle various herbs and recite certain sacred words. Kasuf was reluctant to let Sam and Jack, dressed in desert-beige cammo and looking wary, participate, although Teal'c, in formal robe and looking as stoic and impressive as ever, was welcome. Daniel thought for only a minute, then muttered the Abydonian word for family. Kasuf nodded understanding, and Daniel was grateful, not for the first time, that Kasuf was a wise father.
The rituals were, naturally, in Abydonian, and Daniel could tell that without a translation, Jack was going to get fidgety. So he stood next to him and whispered in his ear, "Now we're praying for Sha're's spirit... now we're blessing the ground where she's buried... now Kasuf is going to ask for guidance for the survivors. The Gods grant us permission to put off mourning, for our year-long obligation has ended, for we have successfully guided Sha're to the Blessed Realms in the West. We are free to go, to love again. I'm free to marry again...." He sighed. Jack adjusted the machine gun he insisted on holding. Kasuf continued to intone the long prayers of his people. Daniel was getting fidgety, himself. He wanted to sit somewhere isolated and remember Sha're on his own time.
Kasuf had other plans, though, and Skaara monopolized Jack for the rest of the day, showing him the small plot of land Kasuf had given him, introducing him to his friends, grinning proudly as he showed O'Neill off to all his comrades. Daniel was stuck sitting in a hot tent with Kasuf, who recited, in his careful English, all the good deeds Sha're had done. Daniel tried to smile sadly, but he was having trouble achieving any kind of emotion, hot and tired and itchy as he was.
That night, after wild dancing and drinking and memorializing Sha're by living as heartily as they could, the villagers finally retired, and Daniel was left sitting with his team around the still bright fire. Jack stared at the fire, brooding, and Sam and Teal'c looked even more out of place than Daniel felt. Finally he stood up, adopted the imperious tone he'd always used on Abydos to command respect, and said, "Bedtime. No need to keep watch: this is Abydos, after all. If trouble wants to find us, it will. Keeping watch never did any good in this place."
Sam stared blankly, Teal'c touched Daniel's shoulder in what might have been sympathy, and Jack took him by the crook of his arm and led him to their assigned tent, the same tent, though older and scruffier, that he had lived in with Sha're.
"How you doing?" Jack said.
"I'm fine," muttered Daniel.
"So you're free now to take another lover?"
Daniel choked on terribly bitter laughter. "I guess I don't have as much respect for the old traditions as I thought I did."
"You feel bad about... us? Wish you'd waited?"
"No, no. When I'm on Abydos, I observe the old ways, out of respect for my good-father, and respect for Sha're's memory, and because I choose, as an archeologist, to immerse myself in this culture. It's called participant observation..."
"Yes, but, do you feel guilty about it?"
"No."
"Daniel." He looked at Jack, sitting on a bedroll, his gun by his side, fiddling with a piece of grass. "It's okay to feel."
"Jack..." Daniel shuddered. "This place is full of ghosts. Full of memories. Of might-have-beens. If I hadn't unburied the Chapaiai, if I'd stayed, we would've been married for five years. I haven't stayed anywhere for five years, never in my life."
Jack said nothing, but his body language was open, his eyes pinned on Daniel's face. Jack, who never seemed to listen, yet somehow managed to know everything without Daniel ever having told him.
"When you got there... I'd practically gone native. The culture was becoming a blend of their rituals and my language, our advances and their beliefs. If I'd stayed, if only I'd stayed. If you'd let me stay, Jack..."
"That's what you really want? If we could do it all over again, you'd rather stay on Abydos with Sha're? Rather do your 'participant observation' and learn all about the Abydonians and form your half-assed theories about why they do things the way they do and... that's it? That's the life you want?"
"No," said Daniel, far too quietly. He'd forgotten how cloying and close the night air of Abydos was, how frightening the night-sounds were. He'd had nightmares about the dark consuming him. Abydos days were hot, but Abydos nights were sweltering and murky. They devoured, destroyed.
"Come 'ere," said Jack, patting the patch of ground beside him, and Daniel came and sat, his legs folded formally.
With his head this close to Jack's knee, with Jack's formal gruffness and protection filling the air with clarity, he could remember Sha're, could almost feel the ghost of her presence. The clump in his throat dissipated, and he felt comfortable tiredness spread through his limbs. Everything was regular, predictable. Everything was right. Sha're was dead and Jack was his lover and Abydos was foreign and yet, somehow, this was right.
He would sleep easy tonight.