Stargate Atlantis: Like a Lion
Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis and all of its characters, locations, etc. are the property of their respective owners; I'm just borrowing (however much I would love to own it). No copyright infringement intended!
Author's Note: It's been some time since I wrote a Stargate piece of any kind; my Muse has pulled my writing in a different direction and carried me along with it. But it was a treat for me to come back to my roots for this; a belated fic to honor my personal holiday (January 19th). For the past few years I have done Teyla-centric stories for this, but this year I was inspired to do something about Ronon instead, remembering who he was and the different ways in which he was amazing. It was a quick little thing, but I hope that you like it! God bless. (:
~.~o0o~.~
He was like a lion.
It was fascinating to watch him move, to step in time with the beat of his weapons against your own; and it was also frightening. He would fight you for all he was worth, but pull back suddenly to stalk slowly around you, looking for his perfect opening to move in for the kill. His eyes never left yours, and it made you want to tremble and flee him. But you could never run from him. That would just prove that you were indeed as weak as he made you feel; and you wouldn't make it anyways. So you gritted your teeth, stood your ground, and took your fall.
And then he would laugh. And the sound of that was so startlingly different than the feral, vicious way he fought that you would hardly believe it was the same man standing before you. His green eyes would shine, and all but a hint of that dangerous nature would be banished. His smile would be wolfish, but not unfriendly, and his whole being seemed to glow, and the anger and ferocity of battle would slide off like water. He would slap you on the back and tell you that you were doing better, but you needed to keep practicing. The change in him was extraordinary.
He was one way in the gym, another in his downtime, and a completely different person out on missions. He was the least at ease during those days. In the gym, his viciousness was still playful and good-natured; painful, but not fatal. Offworld, where the threat of the wraith was ever-present and weighted, he was wound tight; every muscle in him seemed coiled like a snake ready to strike. He was ever vigilant, waiting for the next attack. He would be the first to engage whatever enemy came your way. That man would throw down his life for you in a second, just because he knew you. Not because he owed you anything – quiet often it was the opposite, and you were in his debt – but just because you were there. He would kill and be killed to protect those lucky enough to be considered his friends.
He was an incredible man, and a hero. He was a man that you were proud to know.
fin.