Warnings: Post S5 I guess, and very fluffy!
Disclaimer: I own no part of the SG world, none of the characters and make no money from this. If only!

Comments: Written for the Beya Valentine's Day Different Types of Love Challenge – this is my response to the prompt – 'Definitions of Love'.

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'At her nod the ancient gates were opened. She watched as the bolts were released, the two wooden sides pulled apart, the gap between them widening. She immediately straightened her back further, knowing already that he stood on the other side. And as the space between the heavy gates increased, as expected, his dark countenance was revealed. He stood, sword in hand, ready for battle, his face grim and his suspicion clear. She lifted her chin higher, angry with his silent insinuation that this was a trap, that her word was not honourable.

'The gates finally opened wide, the wood hitting the heavily fortified stone walls on either side. The moment extended, with no sound other than that of a crying child further inside the town.

'He stood there waiting, and she did the same. She had opened the gates, deciding that any further violence in this land, in any land, would not be tolerated. Perhaps she also believed that he would not bring such violence upon her, but it was only a faint womanly hope. A hope that she had weighed alongside the council of her late father's advisors, and finally had ordered her people to lay down their arms and the gates of her family's home for seven generations to be opened to the army outside its walls.

'But, she would not step forward – that was for him to do. Yet, as the sunlight glittered off the metal of his armour she saw the deep dark suspicion still lingered. In his hand his sword was held ready, the edge free of blood as yet, but his reputation told of the layers of blood and death it had spiritually accrued. She would not let her people fall to it, not when she had it in her power to save them. She knew what he wanted, and she would not make it easy for him, but what else was there to do?'

The chapter ended at that point, the rest of the faint brown page empty. With amused anticipation Teyla reached up and turned to the next page of the novel. The rasp of the turning page was the only sound in the dark quarters around her, which were lit only by the faint bedside light at her side. The next page revealed, with its continuing action, she tucked her free hand back under the warmth of the covers over her and set her mind to the English language from Earth. A new previously unseen Earth word stopped her progress almost immediately so she reached to the bedside table on which sat a smaller book of English definitions, its spine well worn from her repeated searches within its pages for understanding. These novels set in historical ages of Earth often held words she did not recognise. After a short search she discovered the meaning of the current word and returned to the novel.

As she lifted the book back up in her hand to resume reading, there was a sleepy grunt from her right. She glanced briefly from her book to see John turning over onto his back, his eyes blinking open and then closed again as he settled onto his other side, now facing her.

"You still reading?" He mumbled, mostly into his pillow. She did not answer him, knowing it was not a question seeking a response, instead she smiled at his muttered settling noises as he shifted slightly closer to her, and the familiar gentle weight of his hand settled on her belly. "What time is it?" He asked, with far more sense than he normally did when he woke in the night.

Smiling, she glanced at the timepiece also on her bedside table. "Just after twelve," she reported as she glanced round at him. He pulled a face against the pillow, his eyes closed tightly. "Am I keeping you awake?" She asked quietly. She wished to follow the novel's story for a while longer, for it was a rest day tomorrow and she did not feel tired enough to sleep just yet. But, she did not wish to keep John awake.

He mumbled a negative noise, his hand sliding over her stomach slightly. She grinned at him beside her, his night time personality always amusing for her. In the depth of night he was either mumblingly sleepy or quietly passionate. Tonight he was the former, due to his own tiredness from a long duty shift, but also due to the fact that Torren slept across her quarters from them tonight. She peered around the other side of her book, around the wooden screen that divided her living space, to where Torren was fast asleep in his bed across the room.

Happy that her reading was not keeping either of her men awake, she returned to the action - the Lady Mara stood opposite the fierce English Knight Sebastian.

'So long ago she had known him as the young playful boy of her youth. So very long ago, yet her heart still recalled the intensity of her love for him. The years had made his features and eyes hard, but as he stepped into the gateway of her ancestral home she thought she saw the subtlest shift to his gaze. She prayed that he too recalled their shared childhood with such affection.'

Bedside her John shifted again, moving closer to her, his hand sliding over to her far hip. She glanced at him to see his eyes were open as he shifted closer again, pressing his front against her side, his arm enclosing her. She knew he was not seeking passion, for they did not make love when Torren was in her quarters, but he seemed to be seeking something from her. She suspected he would prefer she was 'spooned up' with him, a sleeping position he preferred.

"I will read another chapter," she promised him. "Then I will turn off the light."

"Whatever," he mumbled from her shoulder, and she raised a suspicious eyebrow at his innocent sleepy expression. His hand on her hip had slid under the waistband of her night trousers, and his fingers were caressing her skin in small soft circles.

"Torren is here tonight," she reminded him with a smile.

"I know," he replied quickly.

She gave him a doubtful look. She had no problem with his caresses, but knew that if Torren were not here he would have been seeking to distract her from her reading with his touch.

"I just wanted to cuddle," he protested with a flirtatious smile. Her doubtful expression deepened and he scowled playfully at her. "I can just cuddle."

"Really?" She asked with pretend doubt. "I do not recall such innocent cuddling before now."

He pursed his lips to stop his smile as he glared at her and pulled his hand out from under her waistband. "You put down the book and I'll be happy to show you some innocent cuddling," he replied.

Teyla turned her attention back to her book purposefully. "I do not believe that you know how to be innocent in any way," she goaded him with a smile.

"I behave myself whenever Torren is here," he argued.

She looked down at him with a smile. "You prefer to sleep in your quarters when he is with me."

There was a subtle shift to John's features that suggested she had said something more significant than the simple playfulness she had intended. "I'm here tonight, and I only stay away because you two should have your mom-son bonding time," he replied, but behind his casual manner she thought she detected something more.

She dropped one hand away from her book and touched her fingers to his chest beside her. "You are always welcome to be here," she assured him.

"I know," he replied, but she knew him far too well to be fooled by the superficial display of casualness he put over his reply.

She had accepted his absence for the half week that Torren stayed with her and not with Kanaan. Only recently, like tonight, had John stayed into the night from the evening spent with her and Torren. She knew that John's absence on 'Torren's nights' had nothing to do with his feelings for her son, as the two of them had always gotten on really well. In fact the first night John had stayed with them Torren had barely slept, so excited had he been to have John in their quarters overnight. That reaction had seemed to truly please John, though had not given any of them a good night's sleep, but it appeared that he still held some reticence over staying with them.

"You are always welcome here," she repeated to him as she stroked the back of her fingers against his chest. "At any time."

He smiled back and she saw that he was pleased with her answer, though he quickly returned to his previous flirtatious smile. "Even for just 'innocent cuddling'?" He asked.

"I would be impressed to see this 'innocent' behaviour of yours," she teased in return.

He lifted up from his pillow onto his elbow. "Fine, you carry on with your reading, don't mind me," he replied as he shifted closer, his hand once again sliding over her stomach to her far hip. She lifted her book out the way, but there was a moment in which he considered how best to cuddle up to her in this position. She decided to tempt him a little more than she should and so gestured to her upper chest.

"You can settle your head here, then I will be able to keep reading," she suggested for him.

"Fine," he replied as leant over her, pressing himself against her side and his head came down to rest above her breast. There was some shuffling around as he got into a comfortable position against her, and then he shifted his cheek into the most comfortable position against her chest. His arm wrapped further around her, and he slid one of his knees over hers. Finally he stilled and she set her free hand back to her book, held over John. She had plenty of room and his body pressed right against hers made her considerably warmer than before. She rested her arm on the back of his shoulders and flicked back through the book as she had lost her page.

John took a breath against her, his head an increasing nice weight against her, and as he exhaled his warm breath she felt him relax a little further. She held her book open, her eyes directed towards the words, but all her attention was on John. She could not remember ever laying with him like this before. In the after moments of lovemaking he would often doze over her, but then were lying front to front and his cheek was usually pressed into the side of her neck. Now he lay totally within her embrace, a reversal of their usual position where she slept with her cheek against his chest, his arms around her. Smiling at the new sensation, planning to enjoy it for as long as he would, she finally returned her attention to the book.

'He strode forward into the straw littered courtyard inside the gate, his attention remaining on her with an intensity that filled her with the urge to take a step backwards, but she refused to do so. She was Lady of this Keep and she would not back down for anyone, more than she already had she reminded herself. No, there was a difference between surrendering to save lives and blood and the pride that rooted her feet to the cobbled stones under her thin shoes.

'He halted a few paces from her, though his presence felt closer, pressing against her. He broke his gaze from her and looked around at the people stood nervously around the courtyard. Behind him his own soldiers had followed, now filling up the space with metal armour and curious greedy expressions. A moment of fear filled her to think what they had planned for her people and their homes.

'She looked back to Sebastian, fearful in that moment that he was about to give the order for the rape and pillage that she knew many armies craved. But, Sebastian's cold blue eyes met hers and she was sure that she saw restraint in their depths. She let out a sigh of relief – her people would be safe. The man she remembered, loved as a girl, was still in this man somewhere. He would not take out vengeance upon them.

'But, as his eyes slid down her, she saw something very new in those blue eyes – desire. It stirred the girlish love from her youth, but it also worried the woman in her. She knew what further prize he would claim. For by marrying her he would become Lord of this Keep. He would have the power and station he had always wished. A part of her gloried in the fact that she could offer him that achievement, but another hated him for it. If her father had sired a son instead of her this Keep may have been laid to waste and the Lord killed to make way for Sebastian's ambitions, but instead now he claimed the Keep and her along with it. She wished she knew how to weld a sword, for she would fight for what was rightly hers.'

Teyla turned the next page, only now becoming aware that she had been running her fingers through John's hair as she read. The page turned, she returned her hand to his head, running her fingers up from his forehead and through his spiky hair. She repeated the caress, also now aware how incredibly relaxed he was, and that his breath was steady against her. He was either asleep, or very close to it. She smiled softly at his ease, allowing it to fill her heart. She dropped her chin forward slightly and touched her nose against his hair, inhaling his scent. She flattened her hand against his hair, stroking over his head again as she closed her eyes. He felt wonderful, and not wholly in the masculine feel of him against her. They held each other now, not for love making or to show affection – this embrace was something new. She ran her hand over his head again and her heart filled with a bright sensation.

The word that hovered in her mind and heart was not a new one in relation to John, but until now it had been unspoken and something she held back. But, now holding him like this, feeling something so new and open in the way he held her in turn, she felt the word on her lips, begging to be spoken, if not to him then to herself. She loved this man.

It was a love that felt sharp and vulnerable in its newness. Though she had harboured these feelings for him for a long time, it had only been three months ago that their relationship had changed from friendship. She had been surprised how easily they had become lovers, how simple and easy it was to be with him. She had imagined difficulties of culture, work and lifestyle to get in the way, but they had not. Their friends had accepted their new relationship with no more than smug smiles and weakly hidden exchanges of money. She had spent practically every free hour with John since, and he appeared to be in no hurry to leave her side either. In fact, his presence in her bed on 'Torren's nights' now suggested that he did not enjoy even those few nights apart in the week.

She ran her hand over his hair again, her affection for him growing even brighter with each stroke. She glanced at the book in her other hand and decided that Lady Mara and Sebastian could wait until tomorrow, for she had her own love to enjoy right now. She turned her head, moving as little as she could, and set the book down on her bedside table. As she did her eyes fell on the small dictionary. On impulse she picked it up, lifting it up over John so she could use both her hands to flick through the pages.

'Love: feel great affection; passionate attraction and desire; beloved.'

She smiled as she set the small book back down and reached for the lamp. The sole light source shut off under her fingers and the room plunged into darkness. She settled back against her pillows and wrapped both her arms around John. He was warm and comforting against her and she smiled into the darkness. Then he surprised her by shifting slightly, tightening his arm around her, his warm leg sliding slightly further over hers possessively. He was not asleep as she had thought, but from the murmur of his sigh she knew he was very close to it. She settled her arms around his shoulders and felt absurdly happy. That he had been still partly awake and happily cuddled up in her embrace all this time meant so much to her. She inhaled his scent once more with a smile.

"I love you," she whispered softly against his hair, the words begging to be spoken.

"I love you too," he whispered back, his tone sleepy but warm with meaning.

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THE END