"Dream"
Show: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen
Pairing: None
Rating: K
Summary: She had only seen her father cry once in her entire life. Death in any form was unfair. Teyla gen piece.
Disclaimer: I own nothing aside from my goldfish and textbooks.
Author's Note: I'm finally getting around to catching up on posting a bunch of fanfic from my LJ account, so some of you may have read this before...
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Teyla was nine when it had happened – old enough to understand the tragedy and unfairness of her death but too young to curb or control the unrelenting emotions that had accompanied her mother's departure. She had only seen her father cry once in her entire life. Two nights after it happened she had awakened in the night to the muffled sound of his sobs, something that had both frightened and stunned her. Until that moment, she had imagined him to be incapable of such pain, strong and invulnerable to fear, anger, and sadness.
She never again saw that vulnerability emerge. Teyla sometimes hated him for it. The fact that he was able to bottle up anything he might be feeling and keep such a carefully constructed mask in place angered her. How could he not reveal the pain that he must be experiencing when it was all she could do to keep from crying? At times it even went beyond that simple anger. Sometimes she even convinced herself that he really wasn't hiding anything from the others, that the death of his wife was nothing more than a simple inconvenience.
Of course, there were certain moments that would dispel this notion and that would result in Teyla feeling ashamed at considering for even a moment that her father felt no pain at the loss. She would catch him watching her with a softened, thoughtful expression as she cleaned up from dinner or sketched with some of the pigments that Charin had brought her. Even at that young age, she was sure that he was searching her movements for some trace of the wife he had lost. Perhaps he did see something of similarity for he often gave a sad sort of smile as he watched her.
As the years passed, Teyla indeed grew to resemble her mother in more ways than one. Physically, there was little of her father contained in her features, and both Charin and Tagan were quick to notice the similarities to her departed parent. Even more remarkable, Teyla appeared to have inherited her mother's quiet confidence, the natural charisma and sincerity that instantly calmed her listeners.
Though both family and friends assured her that she was most certainly her mother's child, Teyla found herself remembering less and less of who her mother had been.
Parts of her memories remained untouched by the passage of time – she could still recall the exact smell of her mother's tuttleroot soup, the slightly calloused feel of her hands brushing over her forehead, one of the songs that she used to hum around the house.
Other things she could no longer remember, and the extent of those memory losses frightened her at times. She couldn't quite recall the sound of her voice or her laugh. She'd forgotten the season of her mother's birth until she finally asked her father to remind her. The exact look of her face was another thing that Teyla had lost with the passage of time. She could remember a comforting smile and large dark eyes that put her at ease but little else; no matter how hard she tried to remember the details, all she could recall was the vaguest of outlines, a blurry and undefined woman rather than the vibrant, living person her mother had been.
Teyla lost her father just when she reached adulthood. For the second time, the Wraith had taken away an essential part of her life in one devastating attack. The night of her mother's death had never been one of the gaps in her memory. If anything, that was one event in her young life that she had always remembered with distinct clarity, and with the addition of her father's culling, it became all too easy to condense her mother's entire life into that one horrific night.
When she assumed her father's leadership position for the Athosians, there was little time for Teyla to deeply reflect on any part of her past. She was kept continually busy, and the need to maintain a carefully constructed mask for the benefit of both her people and their trading partners off-world was of utmost importance. It never seemed like the right time or place to fully reminisce or pay tribute to her lost family – if it wasn't the coming harvest to tend to it was the new outbreak of disease among the infants, and if the children were all healthy it was a trip to negotiate a new trading alliance. Her duties were constant, unrelenting, and completely consuming, which left little time that Teyla could truly call her own. Whenever she was given a few hours or days free of obligations she often used that time to rest, visit with Charin and Halling, or practice with one of her sparring partners. Her days were long and busy, and her nights were filled with short, dreamless sleeps.
It wasn't until the arrival of the expedition team from Atlantis that Teyla's life deviated from the routine she had come to know. The loss of their home to the Wraith was devastating for all of the Athosians – it was difficult when a single member of their community was taken, but to have their entire world stripped away was something none were prepared for. As hard as it was, Teyla knew that they were also incredibly lucky to have found such a willing ally in the people from Earth.
In the days following the attack she did everything necessary to settle her people into their new surroundings, and she found herself in innumerable meetings with Dr. Weir and Major Sheppard regarding the future of their newly founded alliance. Still, even with these new responsibilities, she found herself with more time on her own than she had had for the past two years. Without the need to tend to crops, shift camp and hunting grounds, or exclusively handle off-world trips, Teyla had more time to spend as she wished.
Despite this freedom, it had been so long since she was this unencumbered that she found ways to busy herself around the city. She volunteered for as many missions and off-world voyages as Sheppard allowed. Groups of Athosians were gathered and led in exploration of the city. She ensured that the Athosian children were being properly educated and that the galley was adequately stocked. It was only during sleep that she allowed herself to rest.
It was Halling who finally stopped her when he caught her sorting and stacking the boxes brought by the expedition members, methodically shredding the ones that were beyond salvage. Gently tugging the pair of scissors from her grasp, he instructed her to take the afternoon off and get some much-needed rest. When she tried to turn in the direction of the gateroom without him noticing, he pushed her off toward the living quarters with a stern glare.
Wandering through the corridors, Teyla really had no clear destination. She walked along the balcony that edged the ocean, taking in the view with an appreciative glance. Nodding to the technicians that passed she found herself nearing the mess hall and recreation areas, which dead-ended that particular walk-way. She was about to turn back and see if she could catch a quick word with Dr. Weir about the upcoming round of trade negotiations when she heard muffled laughter coming from further down the hall.
Curious, she continued down the corridor until she reached the larger of the rec rooms. The door was slightly ajar, and she could see bluish light emanating from the room. Edging closer, Teyla looked inside and was surprised to see nearly a dozen of the expedition members lounging on the sofas and armchairs. Major Sheppard had already explained the concept of television to her before, so she wasn't surprised by the sight of the machine, which all of the men and women gathered there were watching.
All of them were laughing boisterously, passing around large bowls of food and cartons of drinks as they watched the television. Focusing on the machine, Teyla was slightly surprised to see some grainy, shaky footage of a young toddler who appeared to have some sort of undergarment pulled onto his head. More than a little confused, she continued to watch as the child ran through the filmed room, falling once and landing on his diapered rear. At that point a young woman entered the picture and helped him up, her soft, reassuring coos audible on the tape. It was clearly his mother.
As she continued to watch, Teyla eventually determined that one of the men in the gathering had brought the tape from home as a means to remember those he had left behind. There was a stack of other tapes on one of the tables lining the walls. Suddenly she felt like an intruder, a voyeur who was witnessing something inherently private and exclusive. The group in front of her was becoming a family – by sharing memories of their loved ones from home they were inviting the others to take that family as their own. Though they had temporarily lost their blood relatives, the men and women of the expedition were gradually forming new bonds to replace those they had lost.
Teyla suddenly felt that she and the Athosians could be happy here. They could understand, work, and cooperate with these people. Atlantis could become their new home. Perhaps, at some point, they could even consider each other to be family.
It would take time, and she knew that she and the others had not yet been invited to share this connection with their new allies. One day, perhaps, but not yet. Silently tiptoeing from the back of the rec room, Teyla slowly made her way back to her quarters. For some reason, she no longer felt the urge to carry on with business that day.
She spent much of the rest of the day in solitude, catching up on her exercise and meditation. Despite her experience that afternoon, Teyla managed to easily fall asleep with the knowledge that the next day would involve assigning Athosians as guides to each of the off-world team. That night, however, was different. For the first time in years Teyla's sleep was not filled with simple blackness but an actual dream.
She dreamed of her mother. And just for a moment, she could make out more than a vague outline of her lost parent. For just a moment, she really remembered her mother and awoke with a smile.