Thanks again for all the feedback! I'm chuffed to bits you're enjoying the story.

So how is our hero after his painful treatment? How is our mother to be? And what the hell is going on with the people on that planet? More answers coming up!

The Tender Trap

Chapter 3

The door flew open, sending a flurry of leaves into the room as Lalleen was all but blown inside.

"Did you find him?" Daalen spat out, impatiently. The young man was drenched, dripping water all over the flagstone floor. His sandy hair was clamped against his head, and plastered across his face. When he pushed it back, Daalen didn't need to hear the answer.

"We found his weapon, but there wasn't any trace of him." Lalleen admired the unusual rifle-sized firearm in his hand before handing it over. "If I owned an impressive weapon like this, I wouldn't leave it behind unless there was a good reason. I think he may be hurt or…"

"Or he has strayed onto Vergonan land." Daalen ran a hand through his curly auburn hair, and let out a frustrated sigh.

His second in command, Kalenn snorted, and drew him a disparaging look. "I don't know why you're so concerned about this man. He arrived with one of them."

Livid, Daalen sprang from his chair and grabbed him, throwing him against the wall. "Just because she was female, does not mean she was a Vergonan. Besides, the woman was wearing a uniform. Try to open your closed mind for a moment and think about it. Do you really think the Vergonans would mount an attack with a party of men?" Daalen snorted, and shook his head in disbelief. "To begin with these people do not know our ways. Secondly, we need their help…but I doubt they will offer us any assistance now."

Frustration and sadness replaced his anger, and Daalen felt his temper start to melt away. "Can't you see, Kalenn, or don't you want to? Years of living in separate societies has depleted our numbers. After last year's culling we have barely any men over the age of sixteen. If things continue the way they are, it is only a matter of time before there will be hardly any of us left. We need help to provide a greater defence against the Wraith…and we need to find a way to secure our future."

Kalenn continued to glare at him, but Daalen hoped that something he'd said had sunk in. He stood back, released his shirt, and let him go.

Red faced, Kalenn adjusted his waistcoat, and sneered. "So what are you suggesting, Daalen? We give up our way of life? Worse…we extend the truce?"

"There were only 5 infants from the last joining, Kalenn. Do you think such a small number will sustain our numbers?"

"I hope you're not suggesting we give up our way of life?" He raged, his heightened color making his blond hair look even whiter. "Have you forgotten what those creatures did to our ancestors? Many good men had their throats slit the day those bitches left the tribe…including your own kin."

Daalen didn't answer straight away. He went over to the credenza, poured a glass of red wine into a battered silver goblet, and took a long draught before replying.

"No…I haven't forgotten, but it was a very long time ago." Daalen looked his deputy in the eye. "Have you ever considered what is was like for them? How do you think we would have reacted if it had been us in their position?" He reasoned. "By all accounts our ancestors treated them like slaves. If we had been kept in chains and forced to do menial work, would you have sat back and accepted it?" Kalenn's face was rigid with anger. He opened his mouth to speak but Daalen continued before he could spout more venom. "Look…all I'm saying is that if we want to continue our way of life, we need help to survive. Atlantis can give us that help…or would have if we haven't attacked them. The least we can do is find their man and make sure he gets safe passage home. What's that noise?"

"There's a storm out, or haven't you noticed?" Kalenn mocked as he raised an eyebrow. Daalen silenced him a look. After a tense moment his second in command shrugged, and dragging his feet, started to walk towards the door. "It is probably just the wind or broken branches flying about but…I will go and check."

Even with the fire roaring in the grate, there was still a chill in the large stone farmhouse. The storm not withstanding, the warm balmy days of summer were now a distant memory. The harvest was nearly at an end, and already Daalen could feel the first bite of winter lingering in the air. He'd been so angry with Kalenn he'd forgotten Lalleen was still standing there. The young man was trying to suppress a shiver, his face white with cold. He liked Lalleen. He would make a fine leader one day. Daalen extended his hand and called him over.

"Come stand by the fire, Lalleen, you're soaked through."

Lalleen's eyes darted upwards in surprise. He only hesitated for a second before coming forward. "Thank you, Master Daalen."

Daalen watched him rub his hands, and considered the man before him. "You are a fine warrior, and a good farmer, Lalleen. I am given to understand by the circle of brothers it is due to your suggestions our yield of gramale seed has increased this year?"

A flush grew on the freckled skin. "I am pleased to have been of service to the tribe…"

"And I also understand you have fathered a child with the daughter of the Priestess?" Daalen interrupted, watching the flush deepen as a flash of emotion flew over the young man's face, quickly to disappear. In response Lalleen just nodded. His face was now composed in a bland mask, but Daalen suspected the young man had feelings for the girl.

He was taking a risk so glanced over at the closed door, and made sure they were alone before he spoke.

"Camista is my daughter." At Lalleen's shocked expression, he smiled. "I remember when that autumn came. I hid in the clearing waiting to see if my child appeared. I hoped, prayed it would be a boy so I could bring him up as my own. When winter came, and no more infants had been left in the clearing, I no longer cared that it wasn't a son, and regardless of the rules I was desperate to see my offspring…my daughter. I snuck into their camp but I was caught peeking through the window. I couldn't get away in time, and the Priestess in charge then had me dragged to a pole and whipped before throwing me out the camp. I was beaten to within an inch of my life, but it was worth it. She was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen."

A smile grew on Lalleen's face. "Camista is still beautiful, master. Her limbs are long and slender, and she has long red curls, as soft as the finest silk. Now I know the connection I can see that she also has your eyes." The young man looked away, embarrassed, and lifted a poker to prod the coals. "She was not my first joining, but I believe to have been hers. It sounds strange, as all my previous liaisons with the Vergonans have been practical, cold affairs, but I felt a connection with Camista as soon as she entered the tent. And…I might be wrong, but I believe the experience was not unpleasing to her either."

The two men exchanged a warm look which turned into alarm when the door burst open.

A giant of a man with long, wild hair appeared in the doorway and threw Kalenn across the floor. The stranger moved so fast he didn't have time to react. Within seconds he was staring at the barrel of a strange looking firearm. Three other men followed quickly behind him. Daalen was only partly relieved to see Major Lorne whom he recognized from a previous visit.

"Where's Sheppard?"

"Ronon…leave this to me." Major Lorne stepped past the large man seemingly oblivious to his furious expression. However despite his control Daalen could see he was angry. "Tell me, Daalen, when I came to see you I thought we'd got on okay. As far as I was concerned we'd agreed terms, so I'd really like to know why your men attacked Colonel Sheppard and his team."

"The man who escaped into the woods was your commander?" Daalen felt the blood drain from his face. "I am so sorry – for all of this. The order came from Kalenn, but he did not have my authority to open fire on your delegation. We have been trying to find your man…Colonel Sheppard." He let out a long sigh. "Unfortunately the only thing we've found so far is his weapon."

Daalen stooped to pick it up. He stopped when he heard Ronon's weapon charge up.

"Why did he attack?" Lorne asked, his steely demeanor vastly different from the affable man he'd met last time.

Although he had doubts about their way of life, Daalen disliked having to defend it to others. Nevertheless, his men had fired on innocent people, potential allies even.

Inwardly he counted to ten before replying. "I believe there was a woman in your party. We are at war with the neighbouring tribe. The Vergonans are female and…for some reason Kalenn believed your woman was one of them." At the raised eyebrows, he suppressed the desire to swallow. "Perhaps war is too aggressive a term. These days we have an uneasy relationship, but the unrest goes back centuries when the Vergonans, who used to be part of our tribe, rebelled and left to form their own. Active hostilities ceased some time ago but if a man dares to enter their land he will be punished, at worst, killed. In the past it wasn't uncommon for an example to be made. The unfortunate man's beaten lifeless corpse would be left in the clearing as a message. Nevertheless, as I said before I deeply regret what happened. How is the woman?"

"Teyla is going to be fine…If you can call having a bullet take a gouge out her forehead, and a concussion fine. But let me get this straight. Apart from admitting to being a bunch of Neanderthals, what are you trying to say? Colonel Sheppard could be in the hands of a bunch of Xenas?"

Daalen glared at the man with the sharp, irritating voice, but said nothing. Under normal circumstances he would have floored him on the spot.

"He called them Vergonans, Rodney, and it isn't our place to criticise their culture, lad, no matter how unusual it may be." The last man in the group spoke in a lilting accent, sounding incredulous as he muttered the last part under his breath. "Do you know if the Colonel was wounded?" He asked anxiously.

"Well, Kalenn…answer our visitor."

Kalenn winced as he pushed himself into a sitting position. Slighted dazed as he rubbed a deepening bruise on his cheek. "I don't know. If there was any blood it would have been washed away by the rain."

The door slammed shut and started rattling again the frame as the wind rose in ferocity. Major Lorne stared at it anxiously. He appeared conflicted as he looked from the door back to the others. "We can't go out in that -"

Ronon pushed past him. "You can do what you like – I'm going to find Sheppard!"

Daalen shouted after him. "Please…I am sorry for what has happened, but no good will be served by going out into the storm. You would get lost in the woods. Worse, you might end up getting killed by the sanoives that inhabit the forest. If you stay here until first light I and my men will assist you in the search. In the meantime I would be happy to offer you hospitality. It's the least I can do."

The big man stopped, slammed his fist against the door sending an echo round the room. When he turned round, he locked eyes with him, then shifted his angry glare to the Major. "First light – no longer."

ooooOoooo

A blood curling scream brought him back to awareness, but despite the fire still burning in his shoulder, John didn't think the sound came from him.

He still felt too hot, and the raw, angry throbbing from the wound as he stirred made him want to stay put, but John sensed he no longer had the luxury to lie there. Whimpers of pain told him Camista needed his help. His eyes were gritty and sore, but when he eventually prised them open his suspicions were confirmed. The young girl's eyes were glazed, the lustrous red curls now flat, slicked against her sweat drenched skin. He caught her looking at him in desperation. The unspoken request was written over her face, but what could he do? He'd been trained in basic field medicine, but delivering a baby – he wasn't a medic. Shit. He wasn't up for this, but he couldn't stand by and do nothing.

Gritting his teeth John rolled onto his good side, then slowly and very painfully pushed up onto his knees. His vision greyed as the room swayed, and only sheer grit kept him from collapsing. When he was reasonably confident he wasn't going to face palm onto the deck, John shuffled on his knees towards the suffering woman. The floor was damp, but there was no water left on the surface. By his reckoning her waters must have broken a while back. At least he thought so. Then again, what the hell did he know.

"How are we doing?" He forced what he hoped was a reassuring smile on his face.

Camista's face twisted as she grunted in pain. "We are not having a baby – I am. How do you think I am? Get this child out of me!"

When a spike of pain ripped through his shoulder, John grimaced, and automatically placed his hand over his throbbing wound. "Okay...I have to tell you…I've never delivered a baby before -"

"That makes us equal then. I've never had a child before either!" She screamed at him as she threw her head back with a groan. "Please…just do what you can."

His shoulder was killing him. With the fever making his limbs heavy and lethargic John wondered if now was a good time to mention what she'd said about childbirth being the most natural thing in the world. Not forgetting the smug statement that all Vergonan women had their children alone. Looking at her agonized, slightly pissed expression, he decided against it. In any case she'd asked for his help. He was no Carson Beckett, but if Rodney McKay could deliver a baby, so could he.

"Let's have a look then." John wasn't comfortable getting up close and way too personal with a woman he barely knew, but needs must. He drew up her skirt. "I'm no doctor, but Junior's on his way – I can see his head."

"No! It's not a boy – it can't be!" Camista panted, her breath coming in short, sharp angry gasps.

John wondered why she was getting so upset. He got that she wanted a girl, but the kid was her first. Surely it didn't matter what sex it was? He groaned inwardly. "It's a figure of speech, Camista, but whatever you're having, it's coming soon. The next time you feel like pushing – make it count."

The girl lifted her head a little higher to glare at him. "While you've been having a nice little nap, what do you think I've been doing!"

A nap wasn't exactly the way he would have described the reason he'd slept, but John kept his mouth shut. The baby was arriving soon, and he needed to be prepared. From a quick scan of the room he couldn't see anything to put a newborn in. Almost as if she read his mind Camista pointed to the room beyond. "In there…I have some clean linens."

Kneeling was one thing, but John didn't know if he could manage to get to his feet - let alone stay there. He shuffled back until he reached the edge of the chair then in one excruciating, shaky movement hauled himself upright. The world tilted, and black spots danced in front of his face as his trembling legs struggled to support his weight. For once the fiery pain was almost welcome as it broke through the fog, and kept him grounded until the moment passed.

Camista glanced up. He saw anxiety in her face for the first time. "I…I'm sorry. You're hurt…I shouldn't be putting you through this..." Her eyes squeezed shut as she let out a yell. It gave John the drive he needed to stagger through to the other room.

The dripping faucet reminded him how thirsty he was. He found a glass lying on the drainer and took a long draft of the cool water before refilling it for Camista. The kid would need a drink when she was done. Refreshed, he looked around and found a neat pile of cotton sheets, plus a delicate woollen shawl stored on the middle shelf of the dresser. A small wooden crib lay in the corner waiting for its new owner.

"John – she's coming!"

Her agonized scream, and the fact she'd used his name gave him the strength he needed to ignore the pain as he tucked the linens under his arm and stumbled back through.

John fell to his knees wincing as he reignited the fiery pain in his shoulder, but pushed his discomfort aside and got down to the business at hand. Another look told him it was show time. "The head's through, Camista – just one more push…" He barely had time to get the fine cotton sheet into position before the infant entered the world with a small, but piercing cry.

He didn't have the strength to struggle back to the kitchen, and cursed himself for being so dumb. Even he knew the old wives tale was crap. You didn't need gallons of boiling water after child birth, but he should have brought some to clean the baby with. There was nothing else for it. John used the pitiful amount in the glass to moisten a cloth and gently wash the blood away from the squirming infant now lying against his lap.

Camista's eyes were large in her wan face as she looked up anxiously. "Is there anything wrong? Is…is she alright?"

John smiled, then spluttered and blinked as a stream of urine flew into his face. "No…everything is in full working order. He smiled as he laid the baby in the crook of her arm. "Camista, allow me to introduce you to…your son."

ooooOoooo

TBC.

I really hope you enjoyed that, and please review!