Authors Note:

Once again thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter – I really appreciate your interest and I'm so glad you're enjoying this. Sorry I just didn't have time to write a chapter yesterday - I hope this one makes up for that.

Chapter 7: Ronon

Ronon Dex had made a living out of observing people – if escaping capture and death at the hands of the Wraith for seven years could be considered a living. He knew the value of being able to read people and situations, in quickly getting the lay of the land. It had been a long time since something had truly puzzled or surprised him, finding a place and a race who could end his runner status aside.

This thing with the tree puzzled him. When Weir had announced her intentions and requested people contribute, Ronon thought nothing of it. Sure, putting a tree inside seemed ridiculous, and hanging trinkets on it even more so, but it wasn't his business. These were Earth traditions, not Satedan. His traditions lived on only inside his heart and mind.

But the contributions people made to the Atlantis tree didn't seem to stay there – their impact travelled out in an ever widening circle that had even touched his own team, his friends. Sheppard actually made a move on Teyla, Ronon suspected prompted by something Teyla put on the tree, although neither were admitting anything. And this morning McKay was looking almost internally peaceful, a state the excitable scientist never achieved. Again Ronon was sure the tree had something to do with it.

He didn't get it, and not getting it was a circumstance that needed to be corrected.

"And how are you faring this morning Ronon?" Teyla asked him with her usual grace.

"Fine," he grunted, scowling down at his tray.

"Yeah, and you really sound it too buddy," John exchanged a puzzled look with Teyla.

"Perhaps if you talk about what troubles you, we can help," Teyla suggested, watching her friend with concern.

"The tree," Ronon speared Sheppard with a look that just dared him to laugh, to give the Satedan a chance to retaliate.

"You object to the Christmas tree?" Teyla asked uncertainly.

"Don't tell me Conan has finally found his kryptonite," McKay laughed at his own joke until Ronon gave him the same daggered glance and he sobered abruptly.

"It's not the tree," Ronon expanded. "It's the way everyone's acting."

"You're not making much sense here buddy," John admitted. "How are we acting?"

"He's too calm," Ronon nodded to Rodney, "and you two are making eyes at each other."

"I cannot speak for everyone but I have observed that Doctor Weir's idea has resulted in some things being broached that would otherwise have remained unspoken," Teyla agreed.

"Because of a tree," Ronon pointed out.

"No, not because of a tree," Teyla looked at John, getting a subtle nod for her to continue. Ronon saw but didn't mind. It made sense - if anyone could explain in a way he'd understand it would be another person also not from Earth. "The tree is just a symbol Ronon."

"A symbol of what?"

"It differs for each person," Teyla said gently. "As you know, for me the tree is a symbol of the future and my hopes for it."

"What she said," John added, grinning when Teyla rolled her eyes at his usual lack of emotional openness.

"Rodney?" Teyla's tone made it clear she fully expected him to respond. Ronon was amused to see McKay hesitate before his respect and fear for the Athosian drove him to comply.

"Ah ... the opposite," Rodney said, continuing when Teyla looked at him pointedly. "The past, okay, specifically memories of people who aren't around to enjoy Christmas anymore," he admitted irritably. "And now that you've succeeded in killing my good mood, I have work to do." Getting to his feet he grabbed his tray and strode away.

"Doesn't seem to be making him happy," Ronon muttered.

"Sometimes reflecting on the past, while sad, does bring a level of comfort too," Teyla countered. "I believe this is true for Rodney."

"So the tree means something different to everyone," Ronon got back on topic. "Does that mean as soon as its gone everyone will return to normal?"

"This is as normal as it gets big guy," John retorted with a laugh.

"Does it matter what prompts change as long as that change was necessary?" Teyla questioned.

Ronon frowned, considering her words.

"Look at the tree Ronon, see what people have written in the book," Teyla advised. "Then perhaps you will understand."

She and John got up, leaving Ronon to his thoughts. It was a good suggestion – you couldn't understand a situation unless you had all the information. Reconnaissance, Sheppard called it. Getting up Ronon headed for the tree, never one to put off something he could do immediately. He hadn't looked at the tree closely, hadn't really paid it much attention at all. Now, standing right in front of it, he realised it was a lot bigger than he'd expected. How the hell had they gotten this thing through the gate?

Pacing around it, he looked at the things hanging from it ... just stuff to him, most of it unrecognisable, although he would admit if just to himself that most of it was kind of nice to look at.

Still no better enlightened Ronon moved to the book people had been writing their contributions into. He'd learnt to read English – couldn't live in Atlantis without that particular skill – but some of the writing was messy enough he couldn't understand all the words. As he read down the list, matching explanations with people, he realised the tree was a litany of what was most important right then to each of the city's inhabitants. Family back home featured pretty prominently, both living and dead. Others were like Teyla and Shep, pinning their hopes for the future on a tree that would be dried out and falling to pieces a few days after the holiday was finished.

The items that interested Ronon the most were the ones about traditions. Captain Kennedy had put the figure of a woman with wings on the tree – an angel he called it. The young officer had written in the book that it was something his Mom always hung on their tree, that she'd sent it to him so that he'd have a small piece of Christmas with him. Sergeant Hayes also put something on the tree he'd requested from Earth – a circle of leaves he called a holly wreath, apparently a tradition in his homeland England. Putting pieces of one plant on another planet didn't make sense to Ronon either but Hayes wasn't given to being fanciful so Ronon took it on face value. One of the scientists, Doctor Kaufman, put something called a nutcracker on the tree, a traditional ornament from Germany.

The fact that people were acting out of character because of a tree still didn't sit well with Ronon but he found himself appreciating the multicultural aspects. That was something he could contribute to.

Striding away Ronon headed straight for McKay's lab – it galled that he'd have to ask for help but he didn't have the means to do what he wanted alone. Rodney was at first amused until Ronon glared at him and then he got suitably cooperative, even embellishing on Ronon's basic idea.

An hour later Ronon had what he needed and was heading back to the tree. The branches were crowded the lower down the tree he looked, but up higher, within the reach of his greater height, there was still plenty of space. Dropping the strap over a branch, Ronon stepped back. The half size data pad McKay had located for him looked a little strange, dipping low as it's weight dragged the branch down. But the image on it was clearly visible, black on the green background McKay had convinced him would look good on the tree.

It was the symbol of his family ... the symbol he carried with him every day, tattooed on his neck. There were no special occasions on Sateda associated with it – a family mark was so integral to his people that no one day was worthy of celebrating it. But as far as traditions went, having that mark bestowed upon you was the most important one in any Satedan's life. It represented honour and integrity – a purpose higher than self interest – a reason to fight above all other reasons.

The people of Atlantis had that same honour, that same purpose ... and so it was fitting to display his family's mark amongst the other traditions of those he'd chosen to fight with.

Forgoing the need to explain himself, Ronon bypassed the Christmas book and headed for the gym. He'd decided he liked the tree. He still didn't get why people didn't just speak up about what they wanted every day instead of waiting for a once a year special occasion. Didn't they realise how short life was, how easily it could all be taken away?

He understood ... and he never took anything for granted.

Authors Note:

I apologise up front for being so predictable using Ronon's tattoo for his chapter – not exactly original I know, but Ronon doesn't have much and the tattoos seemed particularly relevant in Reunion. I did consider his knives but the idea of putting a weapon on a tree just didn't appeal. Next up ... no idea!