Title: Hidden
Spoils: All Episodes are fair game
Summary: Even with Michael dead, the threat was no gone for long. Teyla makes the impossible decision to hide her son away on an unimportant planet and leave him there. She will do whatever it takes to keep him safe.
Author's Notes: This is my first finished SGA fic. No beta, so please forgive my mistakes. Comments = love.
Disclaimer: These are not my characters, I just play with them. No copyright infringement intended.
Hidden
The boy was strange. He looked strange. His olive skin, tawny hair, and dark eyes stood out in the village filled with pale skin, blond hair, and blue eyes. He acted strange. His was often by himself. He had no parents. Most villagers avoided the woods. The legends told of beasts and witches and they knew of the predators that devoured the livestock. The boy and his strange caretaker would disappear into the trees for days at a time. It was clear that the outsiders were in fact outsiders.
Only the Elders knew the entire story, the special arrangements. The villagers knew only it was for the boy's protection. The man, the woman—the mother—and the boy walked through the Stargate one day. The mother spoke with the Elders for a long time. The man and the boy, who was only four at the time, stayed in the square. The village watched through the gaps in curtains.
The people of Weldon did not get many strangers. They had contact with other worlds, but they knew the traders they met with. When the mother emerged, she held her child tightly and wept. Then, she left. The man and the boy were given a small house at the end of a row. The mother did not come back. The boy grew older. He went to the school with the other children; the caretaker went to the pub with other men. The villagers were polite, but very cautious. No one really got to know them. They preferred it that way and they believed that strange boy and his strange caretaker preferred it too.
Torren trudged back to the house with his head down. A group of other kids charged past. They laughed and called to each other in the local language. It wasn't taught in the school, but they spoke it about home with their parents. Torren only understood bits and pieces of it; he did not speak it at home. The others were going to play ball in the field behind the school and he wasn't going to be invited.
Someone yelled back to him, "Bye, Torren."
He looked up knowing who it would be. "See you tomorrow, Marcy."
The girl flashed him a smile and kept running. Her blonde braid flowing behind her. They shared a desk in class. They were friends, kind of. Her brother was in their class too and he hated Torren. Jacob tormented Torren as if he deserved a punishment, but Torren could not think of what he had done. He had beaten Jacob twice with the simplest bantos move and still he was tortured.
Jacob was the biggest boy in school and probably the meanest. Nobody wanted to get on his bad side and everybody knew he didn't like the strange boy from a different world. The other kids listened to Torren, if he was given the chance, but he kept quiet most of the time. He didn't like to fight and when he disagreed with Jacob, it always ended in a fight after school when the teacher wasn't looking.
The kids were long gone when Torren turned down the little path the cut through to the house where he lived. He pushed open the door a few seconds later. Petre looked up from his carving.
"Hello, Torren," he said, showing the gaps in his teeth.
"Hi."
"How was school? Any fights?"
"Not today."
"Good boy."
Torren didn't say anything else. He flopped onto his bed in corner on the open living space. Their house had only two rooms. One for Petre and then one living room divided in half. Part for the cooking area, a table, a few chairs and part for Torren's bed and dresser. The room was dark and the furniture within it was solidly built. There were hardly any personal touches.
He watched Petre for moment. The man was aging. His hair was grey and he could barely keep up with Torren when they went into the woods, where Torren learn of his Athosian history. He had been a powerful man, but that had been before Torren was born. He guessed that was why Petre was chosen to look after him.
Torren had a peculiar impression of himself. He was somehow important. He was hidden away he because he had been in danger. His mother had left him here because he was important and because he was in danger. His father was dead and he was not safe. He didn't really remember his mother. She was more of a feeling. He thought he remembered her face, but mostly he remembered her warm skin. He remembered her voice. She used to sing to him.
Her absence was something he thought about all the time. It followed him like a shadow. He coped better with the idea of death. His father was dead. There was nothing that could change that. His mother was alive somewhere, or so he hoped. She could come back for him. She absence might not be everlasting. He knew he didn't belong in his village. He belonged with his mother wherever she was. He loved Petre and appreciated everything he had done, but it was not enough to fill the hole.
He wondered as he offended did what his mother was doing. Was she safe? Why hadn't she come for him?
Torren rolled over and faced the wall. Why hadn't she come for him? It had been five years. Petre was teaching him to be strong, both in his movements and in his emotions. Athosians were a peaceful people, but they were not weak. He thought his tears would be seen as a weakness and so would admitting that his just wanted his mother.
"Bantos training in half an hour," said Petre.
"No."
"Excuse me?" said Petre forcefully.
"Not today."
"You will listen to me, Torren." It was not a question.
He was saved actually having to respond. There were a few raised voices outside and then kids shouting as they ran passed on their way from the field. One child stopped outside. "Torren! C'mon! New people just came through the Stargate. They have on uniforms," Marcy yelled through the screen door.
Torren shot up and moved towards the door.
"Stay were you are," ordered Petre.
Torren saw the fear in Petre's eyes, but he was feeling defiant. He pushed open the door and was gone.
With Marcy beside him, Torren pushed his way through the growing crowd around the Stargate. Uniforms could be from Atlantis. There were a group of four men standing on the platform that the gate rested on. They wore black uniforms and black caps and carried large, shinning guns. They were all stocky and had sharp eyes. One of skin darker than any person Torren had ever seen.
"They're from Atlantis," Marcy squealed and she squeezed Torren's arm.
This group of people was as legendary as the witches in the woods. Now, Torren was looking at them. He peered around other people trying to get a better look. Suddenly someone grabbed his shoulder and it wasn't Marcy.
Petre's face was only inches away when Torren spun around. "Go back to the house." He didn't yell, but voice was more dangerous than Torren had ever heard. His grasp was tight.
"You are hurting me," said Torren as he tried to squirm away.
"Listen to me. I am here to protect you. Go back to the house."
Torren looked back in the direction of the Stargate. One of the Elders was stepping forward. He looked to Marcy. Petre tighten his grip.
"Now," he hissed.
The tone of Petre's voice might have been enough to get Torren to obey, but the pain in his shoulder definitely was. He allowed Petre to pull him away. Petre did not lead him back to their house, but to a neighbor's.
Petre politely knocked on the door. A round woman with a baby on her hip opened it after a pause. Jessica was a kindly woman with a couple of kids who still found time to keep an eye on the bachelor and his charge. She sometimes gave them leftover stews and she had made their curtains.
"Is there news?" she asked looking worried.
"Nothing as yet. Do not be troubled. I do not wish Torren to be in the crowd. Could be possibly stay here? I do not trust him to follow my directions."
Jessica raised an eyebrow and Petre explained, "He was being disobedient this afternoon. This is his punishment."
Torren opened his mouth. He knew there was something much more going on here.
"That is not—" Torren began.
"Keep silent," ordered Petre in the same commanding tone.
Torren shut his mouth.
"If anyone comes asking, do not give your own name and do not mention me," said Petre to Torren.
"Are we in danger?" asked Jessica, "My children—"
"I do not mean to scared you, Jessica," said Petre, "I am just wary of strangers."
She looked unconvinced, but didn't say anything further. Petre turned to Torren, "Please, stay here. Do as you are instructed."
Torren folded his arms across his chest and nodded. Petre left. Jessica sighed, "You are a strange pair."
Torren did not answer her.