Disclaimer: I don't own them. Oops, sorry, that was kind of harsh. Maybe I should have broken that to you more gently. Sorry if your universe just exploded.
Title: A Harvest Dance
Author: ChaosCarter
Character/Pairing: Ronon, Teyla, Ronon/Teyla, plus some more people that I made up.
Rating: T (or PG-13, if you like)… just because I don't want people yelling at me.
Timeline: Well, it would certainly help if you had seen Runner. I don't think there are any particular spoilers… set sometime during Season 3 when life is good and nobody's trying to blow up Atlantis.
A/N: Hi everybody! Thanks for coming back! I just want to say thank you to everybody who has reviewed so far – they are, indeed, read and VERY much appreciated. Hope you're all enjoying the story so far. I'd also like to apologize for the rather long break between the last chapter and this one. I obviously cannot speak for all of you, but I assume the majority of people reading this story have at some point gone through finals and/or end-of-term exams. They are not pretty things, and they tend to interfere with one's creativity. So, thank you all for your understanding, and I assure you I will try my very best to get chapter 5 to you all in a far more timely manner.
Just to let you all know, this chapter is going to be fairly short. It was originally part of the next chapter, but that one got to being so absurdly long that people would have gotten a third of the way through and died. So I decided to give this part a chapter of its own. Not to say that the next chapter won't still be absurdly long – unfortunately, it will – I'm just hoping that now you won't die before you can finish it.
Okay, I'll shut up now.
As always, thanks to rach0486 for her lovely beta work. hugs
CHAPTER 4
Dawn of the festival day came early, with a thick ocean mist that persisted until long after sunrise. Ronon awoke with the sun, as he always did. Deep inside, some part of him realized that his years of running were long over. But he was a creature of habit.
Besides, even with the harvest finished, the day would be a long one. Teyla had spoken to him in great length of the Harvest Festival, her eyes bright with memories of years past on Athos. This year would be different, no doubt, as it would be their first true celebration since the culling. Still, the anticipation among the Athosians was almost tangible.
Ronon stretched his tired muscles lazily, pulling a loosely woven tunic over his head as he stepped outside. His own clothes having quickly become dirtied with soil and sweat in the fields, Ronon had been relying entirely on Arden's generosity for nearly a week now. He inhaled the morning air deeply. The smell of roasting meat and baking bread was almost as heavy as the fog.
The short walk to the village well had become a rather satisfying morning ritual; he had missed the feel of gentle earth under his feet in the smooth-floored hallways Atlantis. The trees were quiet, comforting almost, disappearing up into the low clouds. Many of the other field workers were already up and about, their sleeping patterns conditioned from weeks of rising before the sun. A number of young men and marines had started up a card game nearby. Those who felt the need for physical movement had begun gathering wood or fetching water. Other early risers among the villagers called to him as he passed, offering a friendly wave or greeting. Ronon smiled despite himself as a Frisbee (no doubt pilfered from the marines) flew past his head, promptly followed by a pack of small, loudly screaming children.
The well water was cold against his face, sharp in the salty ocean breeze. Ronon sat on the stone rim for some time, watching the village wake slowly. This was one thing he had missed in his years as a runner – the calls of children going about their chores, smoke curling from chimneys to weave into the fog, men gathering by the well to talk of crops and weather. Granted, the city streets of Sateda were hardly comparable to a simple farming community. But still – still, there was a sense of belonging, a sense of safety that had been taken from him. It was strange, Ronon thought, that he seemed to feel it again in a village of strangers.
After a few minutes he was startled back to the present by the splash of a bucket behind him. He chastised himself for his momentary inattention as he turned.
Ronon didn't think he had ever seen Teyla looking so cheerful. Granted, she was generally a much happier person than he, but even this was a stretch. She looked content, well-rested, peaceful. He smiled to himself.
"Well, good morning."
"Good morning to you, Ronon." She responded with an almost uncharacteristically large smile.
Ronon walked around the well casually, confidently. He stepped into her personal space like it was nothing – like it was a habit. Her smile faltered slightly as he reached up to run a finger down her neck, tilting her chin slightly to examine the skin underneath. "And how's this feeling?" he murmured, nodding towards the tattoo.
She shivered slightly as his fingers skimmed the now-darkened black lines. "Fine."
"You've been putting the salve on it?" he asked, almost protectively.
"Yes," she responded, raising an eyebrow and meeting his gaze. Ronon simply grunted in response.
There was a moment of silence that became awkward all too quickly.
"… Rheana and I were just about to prepare breakfast. Would you care to join us?" Teyla smiled warmly once more, lifting her water buckets from the well and unhooking them from the ropes.
"Yeah, sounds great," he grunted, reaching across to take both of the heavy buckets. She nodded in thanks, returning her hands to the pockets of her jacket as they began to walk. Silence began to set in once more.
This time Ronon was the one to break it. "So… you just get up?"
Teyla laughed, as if this were a foolish question. "Hardly. I am currently on my third batch of bread, and Rheana and I have been roasting meat since before sunrise."
Ronon whistled. "Busy day."
She nodded. "They always are at harvest time."
"But it's worth it?"
"Yes." Teyla did not hesitate. The quizzical look on Ronon's face demanded elaboration, so she continued, albeit a little more reluctantly. "As a leader, I recognize the importance of this festival for… "morale" is the right word, I think. It has been too long since my people had something to celebrate. This will be good for them – especially the younger children. Some of them have never seen a Harvest Festival." She paused. A wide grin slowly made its way across her face. "And, as an Athosian, I must admit that I, too, am looking forward to the festivities." Ronon chuckled.
They soon reached Rheana's small cabin; Teyla opened the door widely, allowing Ronon to walk through first.
Before he had even made it to the kitchen, Rheana's voice sounded from within the pantry. "By the ancestors, Teyla, you take twice as long to fetch water as the children. Another minute and I was going to send out a search party." She emerged from the back room with two fistfuls of herbs and flour all over her face and clothes. She stopped dead in her tracks when she realized it was Ronon she was berating. "Oh."
Ronon chuckled as he set the buckets on a table next to the fireplace. "My apologies."
Rheana recovered quickly. "It is wonderful to see you this morning, Ronon. Would you care to join us for some tea and bread?" To Teyla she mouthed, "You could have warned me!"
"I would be honored." Ronon bowed his head slightly.
Rheana smiled. "Well, it won't be much. Wouldn't want to ruin your appetite for the festival tonight! Usually I wouldn't suggest eating anything, but no doubt you'll be in the games this afternoon, so…"
A curious frown crossed Ronon's features. "Games?"
She turned from the fire, pausing a moment in her stirring. "Don't tell me Teyla hasn't mentioned them yet." Rheana eyes darted to her friend – the question was clear in her eyes.
"I must confess, it had slipped my mind," Teyla laughed, setting a few pieces of bread and a bowl of broth in front of Ronon. "The tradition is so old. I suppose it did not occur to me that anyone would not know of it."
"Games?" Ronon repeated, his tone demanding explanation.
"Yes," Teyla sat down on the edge of the table. " Every year – at least, it used to be every year – we hold a tournament on the day of the festival. Essentially it is a series of one-on-one mock fights; the winner receives the honor of saying a prayer over the Harvest Feast. Any one can enter, even some of the older children. It is all for fun, of course, just a chance for everyone to show off their skills."
Ronon was intrigued. "By fights, do you mean hand-to-hand, or are there weapons allowed?"
"It depends. Hand-to-hand is allowed, but most choose to spar, as it is a traditional discipline among our people. Wood swords and single staffs may also be used."
Rheana interrupted from her corner. "Really, you can use just about anything, as long as you and your opponent can agree that the balance of weapons is fair."
"Anything?" A small smile crossed Ronon's features.
Teyla saw his next question coming. "No guns, Ronon." She laughed at the scowl on his face. "Remember, your opponent has to approve of your choice of weapon."
"But if I just gave him a gun and they were both set to stun –"
" – then you would win." Teyla finished for him. "You forget that very few of my people have learned to shoot anything but a bow and arrow."
"Okay, okay," Ronon grumbled. "But I can enter?"
"Of course!" Rheana gestured with her spoon. "You have done so much to help us this harvest – it would be wrong to exclude you. And besides," she laughed, "I am sure many of the villagers are eager to see what you are capable of. Teyla has told us of your skills as a warrior."
"Oh, she has, has she?" Ronon turned back to meet Teyla's eyes, a smirk on his face.
Teyla raised an eyebrow. "She exaggerates. I have, however, spoken of your violent tendencies and penchant for showing off."
Ronon chuckled, accepting the dig with grace. "Well, I would like to enter, if you're sure it's alright."
"Don't be silly," Rheana replied. She carried a steaming bowl of something over to the table and began to add a stack of chopped herbs. "I am sure the other competitors will be proud to challenge you." She eyed Ronon's untouched food, pointing with her spoon. "Now, eat your broth before it gets cold."
-(end chapter 4) –
A/N: Well, there you have it: the short and fairly pointless chapter! Yay! Coming up in chapter 5, we have… well… many people fighting many other people. Hope y'all are excited – I know I am. Remember, reviews are love.