Author's Notes: Even though this story is technically classed as Kidfic the content is quite dark in places, especially in regards to descriptions of child sacrifices. Please consider this, as well as the overall story rating, to be a warning should you choose to proceed. Many thanks.

Innocent Blood

By Eilidh17

Teiuc blinked slowly and, wrinkling her nose, became aware of the stink from the men surrounding her. Their painted bodies and feathered headpieces signaled their stature amongst the temple guards, but she didn't care, Teiuc wasn't afraid of them.

She feared nothing anymore, what was the point? Hatred burned in her soul, and she loved no one, cared for nothing, and despised them all. At first the cold of nothingness had been just a dull ache in her chest where her heart had once been, but like a cancer it had spread.

Like the soreness that came with the progression of old age, it worked its way from her chest into her very essence and through her body, and she let it. Welcomed it like a lover. From this nothingness she would draw strength and the knowledge that more would be lost at the end of this day than just the life of another innocent child.

All around, the cloying scent of maleness disturbed her. Dressed in the finest of feathers and cloth, their lean bronzed bodies shone with sweat, their biceps glistening in the heat. The women of her village looked cooler in knee length, deep green skirts dyed from the leaves of the Auahan plant. Curling her lip, she watched them rustle softly past her, their stink assaulting her as well.

"Fools!" Biting back her loathing, swallowing her hatred, Teiuc clamped her eyes shut and waited patiently.

Jumping as a sudden cheer went up around her, the sounds of jubilation bouncing off the stone walls of the ancient temple, she winced as her body betrayed her the smallest of sobs.

"No!" Rough hands grabbed her arms and dragged her through the frenzied crowd to the bottom of a set of giant steps leading up to the stone altar. This was Teiuc's right, this was her place. Blinking slowly, she stood straight-backed in the place of honor where all the proud parents stood as their children took their place amongst the chosen of the God, Tlaloc.

It started softly at first, a whisper prickling incessantly at the edges of her mind. In a mantra, the small crowd chanted Tlaloc's name over and over, the volume rising incrementally with each word. Teiuc's head pounded, she was no stranger to this madness, she'd heard this too many times before, and had been a willing participant. Slamming her eyes shut in a futile attempt to block the noise, Teiuc tried to cover her ears but strong hands just gripped her even harder. Even that small mercy was denied to her.

Teiuc's mask dropped. The carefully schooled look she'd been trying to display on the outside crumbled like rock as memories of her children scrambled across her mind.

One by one her babes' lively animated faces, so full of life, were replaced with the mask of horror from their violent deaths. Her children who would never know the god they were dying for. She heard their cries again, beseeching her, calling out to her. Hyperventilating, eyes wide with shock, they kicked desperately, their faces begging for their mother.

One swift motion and it was done.

The lives of her laughing, brown-eyed children were taken. No more laughter, no more kisses, no more joy. The blood that sprayed from their tiny bodies drenched the attendants and soaked the altar, its sickly sweet smell whipping the crowd into a frenzy. Wild eyed, their faces contorted with madness, the people roared and sank to their knees while the priest raised the still beating heart high in the air.

Pulled back to the present by bile burning her throat, Teiuc dragged in a ragged breath as a hand grabbed her hair and pulled her head backwards forcing her to look up at the altar. The bright glare of the suns momentarily blinded her and she blinked furiously till her eyes adjusted.

Standing atop the dais were five men. Four of them were partially clad, their upper bodies bare and coated with oils and paint. Small feathers, the tips brightly colored, were woven through long hair that flowed over their muscular shoulders. Standing behind the four men was a fifth. Head and shoulders taller, his ornate headwear and long feathered cloak stood him apart from the rest. Despite the turquoise mask covering his face, Teiuc could easily recognize the man.

Matlal.

Her dark eyes stared at Matlal. Anger, revulsion, hatred all vying for dominance across her tear streaked face. She had loved this man all her life. He was her bonded husband since birth, the High Priest of her small world, and the father of her babes. After each ritual, after another one of her babes had been sacrificed by his hand, she had forgiven him. It was the Aztec way; she accepted this.

Face contorting with hatred, Teiuc knew the well of her forgiveness had just run dry. To sacrifice was to give life; this is what she had believed, but no more. Never again would she watch a child slaughtered.

Teiuc bowed her head, her hatred needing to be hidden. This was the way it was for the Yahtepec people and it was a tradition that had long since lost its meaning in the passages of time. The ritual of human sacrifice was another such tradition so ingrained in the Yahtepec that no one ever questioned the reasoning behind it.

Tlaloc, the god of rain and fertility, demanded sacrifices to ensure plentiful rainfall for the coming season's crops. His wife, the beautiful Goddess of the Water, Chalchiutlicue, required no such homage. She was the giver of life and protector of children. In Teiuc's mind, she could see no reason for their bonding and yet she prayed with passion to Chalchiutlicue, prayed the rains would fall and the rivers would burst.

Greatly feared by the Aztecs, it was well known Tlaloc preferred his sacrifices to be drowned. No quick death, they would be subjected to the cold terror of a river in its winter thaw. Held down to almost the point of death, they would be hauled onto the banks, their tears collected as part of the ritual and submerged again. Whoever believed drowning was a peaceful death had never met Tlaloc.

Teiuc had no such preference. Whatever reasoning there was behind the practice was lost when it became an act of blood lust and desperation. Her once strong belief system had been systematically torn down by grief and the gnawing realization that no matter how many children had met their death in Tlaloc's name, the Yahtepec people were no closer to appeasing him.

Despite all of this, Teiuc had prayed for rain. Death by drowning was a far better option to what awaited their children on top of the altar. What meager food she had spare, Teiuc left as an offering at the temple to Chalchiutlicue.

Fearing this wouldn't be enough, she'd walked for a day to find the flowers of the Lhatzu. Favoured by the goddess, its aromatic bud was only in bloom for seven days in the summer. The walk had been long, her shoulders had blistered in the scorching heat from the twin suns, but the Lhatzu flowers had been worth the effort. Or so she thought.

Chalchiutlicue wasn't listening though. The rains never came, but her husband had.

Teiuc's memory of that last evening spent with Itzli was fractured. Buoyed with assurance from Matlal that Itzli would not be chosen at the naming ceremony, she stayed home to prepare a meal of Hetcul stew. Matlal had promised her no more of their children would be given to Tlaloc. That they had served their god well and provided more noble sacrifice than was required.

Heart heavy with her past losses, Teiuc swept Itzli into her arms and tickled the bare flesh on his tummy. Giggling with glee, his soft brown eyes bright with the joy of living, Itzli tossed his head back and kicked his chubby legs in play, his voice floating through the air like song to his mother's ears.

The evening had been enjoyable. Upon Matlal's return from the naming ceremony, he'd cradled Itzli in his broad arms and twirled around the shelter with him. The food, though overly spiced to make up for its natural blandness, was well received and shared, and the wine Matlal's mother had made last summer was strong and heady with the aroma of dried Hetcul leaves.

Teiuc was happy and tired. Sure the worry of the naming ceremony was the cause of her weariness, she quickly cleared away the remnants of dinner and bid Matlal goodnight. Settling down on her sleeping mat, an arm curled around her beautiful Itzli, she found herself quickly drifting to sleep.

Teiuc woke with a start. Head throbbing with the after effect of too much wine, she struggled to sit up. Scrubbing a shaky hand across her face, and shivering despite the warmth inside the shelter, she reached out to wake Itzli.

His sleeping mat was empty.

Scrambling to her feet, panic ripping through her very being, Teiuc searched every corner of the shelter. With no sign of Itzli, she pulled back the privacy screen and stepped out into the courtyard, ignoring the harsh suns beating down on her semi-naked body.

Pushing through the crowds, Teiuc searched with a desperation tinged by mania. People moved out of her way, some held their ground, but still she searched, fear in her dark eyes. The square was busy and lively, but she knew better; this was no market day, this was a terrible day.

The aroma of the rich xental oil was thick, and her mind swam with its intoxicating scent.

Feathers, their tips died in the greens and blues of Tlaloc and Chalchiutlicue, woven so neatly through the seas of hair, seemed to fly at her from all directions. Pushing her way through the throng, Teiuc called for Itzli, searching the wall of humanity that clamored past. Then she saw it, the look of anguish from women she had known all her life. They knew her child was marked for death.

Despite everything, despite all the promises, the sacrifices she'd made, Matlal had taken her baby. Itzli was gone. Sinking to her knees, Teiuc struggled for breath, her heart wanted to beat out of her chest. Ignoring the stares of the milling crowd, she sobbed her rage and frustration. Looking up, she watched the villagers hurry to the temple of Tlaloc. Everyone would be there to witness her grief. Wrapped up in the fervour of the ritual and their unwavering faith in their gods, Teiuc knew she was alone in her loss and grief.

Her gods had abandoned her, and with a stab of pain, she knew she'd abandoned them as well.

Making her way to the temple as if in a trance, Teiuc pushed her way towards the front of the crowd. Squinting, her hand raised against the sun's glare, she saw a small figure ushered onto the platform.

"Itzli!"

The chanting voices around her fell into hushed silence as all eyes watched the tiny figure shuffle in his overlong robes. Head down, the small child stumbled and tripped as he took the final walk of his very short life. Soon, Teiuc would be forced to bear witness to Itzli's savage death, sacrificed in the name of a faceless god she now detested. Arms aching to hold her baby, Teiuc's eyes never wavered.

The little boy, so used to love and tenderness, was adored by his mother and loved by his family, but today none of that mattered. Stumbling, Itzli sobbed for his mother. Instinctively lurching forward, Teiuc felt her arms yanked painfully behind her back. Nothing would interfere with the child's sacrifice.

The harder she struggled, the crueler her captors became. "Be quiet, woman!" The rough voice ghosted her ear; its sharp tone leaving her in no doubt that any further outbursts would be met with even deadlier force. With a transfixed horror, Teiuc watched her husband raise the dagger, and with a cry, she saw it plunge downward.

Around her the cries of the crowd drowned out her screams.

~oOo~

"Well this is… interesting."

Daniel Jackson looked up at the sky, and wincing, adjusted his clip-on sunshades while pulling his boonie hat down over his forehead. The twin suns of PR6-991 shone down relentlessly on the planet's hard baked earth, creating shimmering mirages in the distance. The planet was a desert and its terrain inhospitable and dangerous. Everywhere, the harshness of the world was obvious.

Dry and withered trees, branches long stripped of foliage, dotted the area, and Daniel was vaguely reminded of a scene from a horror movie. With a grimace, he sighed and muttered sourly, "Wow, Jack is so going to love this place."

Raising his hand to shield his eyes, Daniel shivered; a ghost walking over his grave disturbed his peace. "Okay, that's odd."

Hearing the telltale movements of SG-1 behind him, he listened as the familiar voices floated over to him, and figured they were setting off to scout the immediate area. Turning and jogging over, Daniel felt sweat trickle down his face while he patiently waited for his orders. Finely tuned to the protocols of off-world missions, SG-1 knew what they needed to do long before they walked through the gate.

Scuffing his booted foot across the dusty ground, Daniel frowned at the poor quality of the soil. Looking over at Sam, he shrugged and said, "Doesn't look like this place has seen rain in a good while."

Squinting against the sun, Sam glanced over and nodded, a single bead of sweat trickling down her cheek. "Atmospheric sensors on the UAV confirmed very low levels of water vapor in the atmosphere. Combined with a strong prevalence of high pressure systems, this planet is definitely headed towards becoming a desert in a few centuries." With a quick frown, her fingers deftly dancing over the pad of the small palm pilot she held, Sam added with a sigh, "Orbiting so close to dual suns isn't helping either."

Leaving Sam to her analysis, Daniel unclipped his backpack and let it slide to the ground. Rolling the crick from his shoulder, he focused his attention on the small statue to the left of the DHD.

"Hello!"

Made from grey stone, Daniel figured from some local quarry, the statue stood about two feet tall on a raised rounded pedestal base. Pocked and chipped, its distinctively feminine features were still recognizable despite the tyranny of time and foul weather. The statue had probably been there for centuries, and the archaeologist wondered briefly against what or whom she had stood guard.

Reaching out to caress the shoulders and bust of the figure, Daniel squinted, trying to read its etchings. Small lines of pictographs, barely noticeable under the glare of the hot suns, leapt out him. "You're an Aztec," he whispered.

"I thought you already knew that."

"Jack!"

"Yes?" Jack clasped a hand firmly on Daniel's shoulder and peered over at the figurine. "Like I said, I thought you already knew that."

"I, ah, I did. The MALP image wasn't as detailed as I'd hoped, and the damage to the surface didn't allow for an accurate identification."

"Right." Jack let his hand drop from Daniel's shoulder, and bending over, peered directly into the statue's face. "So, who is he?"

"She."

"What?"

"It's a she. Chalchiutlicue, to be exact."

"I'm not even going try and repeat that one." Standing up, Jack rocked back on his heels, his P-90 resting snugly in the crook of his right arm. "Damn ugly if you ask me."

"Actually, Jack, she was considered to be one of the most beautiful of the Aztec goddesses."

"Well," Jack huffed. "Just goes to show they had no taste whatsoever."

Casting a cynical look at his friend, Daniel resisted the urge to argue back and forth, deciding to investigate the overgrown pedestal. Brushing aside the dead weeds and brambles, he murmured, "Whoever lived here used this as a shrine at some point. I'd say it hasn't been visited in a long time. Odd really."

Running a hand across his brow, Jack flicked the sweat onto the ground, frowning as it sizzled away in the blistering heat. "Why is that?"

"Well…" Throwing Jack a sympathetic look, Daniel pushed his boonie back and unclipped his shades. "Unless they've all died off in the last few months, it's highly unusual for the Aztecs to leave their shrines in such a state."

"Like an offence to their god?"

"Exactly." Freeing the pedestal base from its debris, Daniel took out a small brush and began sweeping around the bottom, running a finger lightly behind the brush as he went.

"Looking for something?"

"I was hoping to find…." Leaning in closer, Daniel could just make out a faint band of script ringing the base of the object. Slipping into lecture mode, ignoring the soft groan from his team-mate, Daniel tapped the base with triumph. Whirling around, his face creased into a grin. "Gotcha!"

"Got what?"

"Sometimes, depending on the ruler at the time, the Aztecs used to leave a blessing around the base of their most sacred shrines." A small frown marring his face, Daniel rocked back on his haunches and sighed. "Most of the pictographs have worn away. I'm guessing from exposure to the elements or a high acid content in the soil."

"Or maybe it's just been here a long time."

"Yes, helpful, Jack… thanks."

Jumping effortlessly to his feet, Daniel placed his brush in his vest and dusted his hand against his pants. Turning around in a neat 360° arc, his expression almost comically quizzical, he stared at the gate and the surrounding area, all the while drumming his fingers on his thigh. "Mm, now that really is odd."

"Odd?"

"Tlaloc."

"Okay." Jack let out a tolerant sigh. "T, who?"

"Tlaloc. Chalchiuhtlicue and Tlaloc were husband and wife. Quite often where you found a statue of one, you'd find one of the other as well, but there's nothing here."

Tilting his cap back, Jack's gaze wandered over the vista. "I got nothing but dust and dead trees."

"Yeah, me too," Daniel muttered, his words tinged with worry. Something didn't add up and the more he thought, the more it bothered him. With one, there was always the other.

"Right, so why don't you sound so happy about that?" Circling Daniel, and gazing harder around him, Jack moved in closer. "Daniel?"

Bristling under Jack's stare and stepping backwards, Daniel shook his head. "Jack, stop rounding me up, there's nothing here but us and a million flying bugs." Casting his gaze back at the weatherworn statue, Daniel frowned, "Tlaloc was known in Aztec mythology as the god of rain and fertility."

"Fertility, you say?" Jack tapped the side of his P-90 playfully. "Well, that doesn't sound too bad to me."

"He was also known for his floods and droughts, and need for human sacrifices, particularly children. Parents were known to drown their children to appease him."

Jack turned his gaze back to the statue, eyebrows raised, and swallowed visibly. "Sacrifices?"

"Jack, the early Aztecs were a pretty blood-lusty lot. Human sacrifice was a way of life for them."

"Not much of a life, if you ask me."

"It was all they knew."

"I'm just saying."

"O'Neill!"

Teal'c tinny voiced boomed out from the radio on Jack's vest, and taken unaware, Daniel couldn't help shuddering. Jack tilted his head and raising his eyebrow, mouthed, "Its Teal'c!" Grinning at Daniel's perfect eye roll, he smothered a snort and keyed his radio, "What ya got, buddy?"

"We are not alone. A small band of people are approaching from the south."

Daniel watched as Jack visibly tensed. Instantly alert, his hand tightening around his P-90, Jack snapped his head back and forth, finding his bearings. Taking his cue and slipping his own hand down towards the Berretta, Daniel paused mid-action, the urge to arm himself giving way to playing devils advocate in the face of a first contact.

"Carter, what's your position?"

"Coming up on your left, sir, fifty feet."

Squinting against the glare, his snap on shades momentarily forgotten, Daniel spotted movement through a grove of dead gnarled trees, and with a quick tap on Jack's shoulder, he pointed towards the approaching visitors. "Err, over there!"

"Behind me, Daniel."

"Jack?"

Face schooled, a finger raised in the air, Jack put paid to Daniel's now silent protest. "You'll get to do your intergalactic traveler routine when I'm sure they're not planning on using us for target practice."

The tell-tale sound of boots on the dry ground behind him told Daniel the rest of his team had returned, and with a barely perceptible nod, Teal'c and Sam moved to flank him, their weapons primed and at the ready.

Gaze darting from the tip of Teal'c staff weapon to the small band of natives now clearing a rippling mirage, Daniel bit back a witty retort threatening to trip off his tongue. The words "We come in peace, shoot to kill" suddenly stuck in an annoying loop in his mind, but placing his hand back on his Berretta, his relentless training finally won. Watch and listen, time enough for questions and answers later. Jack was right. Friend or foe was the sixty four thousand dollar question.

Watching as Sam and Teal'c slid smoothly into position, Jack kept his tone low and direct. "Heads up, kids."

Walking through the rippling mirage, a small group of warriors strode into the clearing near the gate. Dark skinned, lean and well muscled, they were naked from the waist up, and oozed a predatory presence. Their skin painted in a vivid blue, wearing skirted waistbands, the warriors looked at the invaders with interest.

To be continued…