.
"Luctor et Emergo"
.
Desperation made Rodney McKay shrill. Althea dug her hands through her hair for the thousandth time, wishing there was some way to silence the high, nerve-grating voice—didn't anyone know he was freezing? She thought she could handle it, but after half an hour of this babbling and she thought she would snap. She contemplated stunning him, but she didn't want to risk complications that could arouse from overusing the pistol; she was sure there were side affects if someone was stunned once too many times. Then she thought of talking to him to soothe him, but that idea went out the window as well; she'd prefer it if Lynex was there by her side for any form of contact.
Althea dragged her upper teeth against her bottom lip, grimacing against Rodney's voice, deciding enough was enough. She picked herself up from her kneeled position in her cave, pausing long enough to wipe away the dust and tiny rocks on her knees and walked out of the stifling shelter of the cave. The freshness of the air stung her nose and made her eyes water but it was a comfort compared to the scientist. A wind shrieked against the windward side of the knoll unchecked, a legless dragon with freezing breath. Her breath rose high in the air like a writhing proxy. For the hundredth time Althea risked spraining her neck in her search for her Wraith, looking every which way yet not willing to abandon the leeside for sake of a wider searching range. Not that he would be hiding; the rolling tundra was bare for miles and miles, each hill sparser than the next despite the countless tiny violet flowers decorating them. It was so bare she could see the lemmings pop up from their grassy burrows and scuttle around. She shivered, rubbing her arms in hope to produce warmth, crossing them in front of her chest. She listen for muted footsteps and the creak of a leather coat with half an ear and listened to Rodney's rants with the other: didn't anyone cared he was prone to frostbite?
.s.
The cold won over the battle; Althea prepared to reenter the warmth of the cave after being driven to the brink of teeth-chattering and finger-numbness. She turned around. And almost ran into Lynex. She stumbled back with a cry of surprise. "Lynex!" She put a hand on her heart, feeling its panicked tempo like the beating of a rabbit's foot on the ground. "You're back!"
The Wraith gave her a blank look, oblivious of the near-heart attack he gave her. He said nothing. Althea busied herself on his wounds, trying to ignore the eerie feeling the idea that she had been watched. She pressed her small fingers on his bullet holes, tentative lest she caused him pain but growing in confidence when his reaction remained unchanged. Relief sagged her shoulders. Healed. All of them. She hummed her approval that the bullet holes had closed even though they left behind rips in his leather. She clenched her jaw, swallowing down the constriction in her throat. Above her she saw Lynex incline his head downwards in her direction. Again he said nothing.
The memory of their exile transformed into actions and she was overcome with an urge to lean on him. She brought her body closer while trying to appear she was enthralled with one of his bullet holes in his arm. She tried to smell his dry, cobwebby aroma but the air was too cold and stung her nose. She tried to analyze the suppleness of his leather but her fingers were too frozen and clumsy. She tried to listen to his heartbeat but her exposed ears picked up nothing but the shriek of the wind and the throb of their own pain. Althea felt Lynex grunt in his chest. She instantly recognized the tone and stepped away from him, hating the way she acted so shy yet not having the courage to do anything otherwise. And as she placed distance between them she became chagrined. A vague look crossed Lynex's alien face. At first Althea thought he was going to ask if she was done or if he could go, but instead said something else that disappointed her in more ways than one.
"Are the prisoners coherent?"
The corners of her mouth pulled downward. No customary 'Little Dagger'? Jealousy twitched toward the Atlantians; why did they seem to get all the attention? Yet another needling jab at her patience; at this rate she could construct a rose hedge.
"They're not 'prisoners'. But yes," she said, remembering her suffering at the hands of Rodney's complaints, "they're awake."
His upper lip curled in a sneer, drawing away from purple gums and transparent teeth. He turned on his heel to leave, right hand finding the pistol strapped at his hip.
"Wait!" said Althea. Lynex looked back at her, a What now? expression clear on his face. Against his impatience her recited questions shriveled. Her mind went blank.
"How did the hunting go?"
Althea winced as the words left her mouth. Lynex's eyeridges drew low across his eyes, his mouth becoming soft and thoughtful. For an instant, she thought he would tell her everything in detail: how he had stolen away the life from some nameless humans, how he left them beneath the bushes for some hapless person to find, desiccated and forever in the act of screaming in agony. For a spontaneous second, the baleful expression on his face said just that: You want to know? You really, REALLY want to know?
But he didn't.
"Not now, Little Dagger," he said, before continuing to Sheppard's cave. 'Not now'. This stopped Althea in mid-step. It sounded as a dismissal, something a parent would say to a persistent child. A memory came to her then, of when he was starving in the City's cage. His eyes had been haggard and wild; Althea had known without a doubt he would've tried to feed on her if he could. The old Lynex she knew wouldn't willingly hurt her. She knew without a doubt the Wraith would rather snap off an arm than cause her harm. But this new, brooding Lynex was eating away at the old, roguish one, the self-loathing look in his eyes masking the affectionate one he usually bestowed on her. It was leaving behind a stranger. A stranger that could hurt her.
It was leaving behind a Wraith. She ran a hand through her tawny hair, chewing the inside of her cheek. She would have liked to muse over this further but she didn't want Lynex to accidentally shoot Sheppard.
.s.
Althea found Lynex standing rigid and staring at the man sitting on the ground, gun arm held unbent and straight in front in at a hundred and ten degree angle. Her heart gave irregular starts and stops, as if she had eaten an entire sprig of foxgloves. All her nerves were sizzling and hyper, itching beneath her skin and fidgeting her feet. She eased herself into the cave along the wall, ignored. Her eyes followed the line of Lynex's gun arm till they rested on the man. Bindings forced him to sit on his hands and keeping his knees up to his chest. Althea winced. If she had her way she would've chosen a position less degrading, but that had been when his face was slack with sleep.
Now that the thunderous, furious look hardened the man's expression, the young woman wished they had something stronger to bind him. He was the dreaded Atlantian leader, the man who stood over Warrior's carcass, who cut her arm with a knife. This was no joking, relaxed human whose easy charms and boyish grace sent village maidens swooning and their old caretakers shaking their heads. This was Sheppard, and he was furious. He wasted no time.
"Where are they? Where's my team?" Sheppard said, words filling the cramped quarters of the cave like blades. He strained against his bounds, staring straight past the gun pointed at his head as if it wasn't there. Lynex never faltered from his aloof attitude as the man shouted at him in open defiance, betraying not a flicker of indignation or impatience. Althea eased herself in a little more into the cave, eyes fixated between the two of them.
"You will give us your cooperation,"Lynex said, the liquid catchlights on his eyes shifting.
"You've better not have hurt any of them. Where are they!"
Lynex said nothing.
"Answer me, dammit!"
"No." Lynex paused, smiling, savoring the pregnant moment as if it were a rare wine on his tongue. He caressed the hammer of the pistol with his long index finger like a lover. "Not until you give me what I want."
Sheppard lowered his head like a forest cat gauging the distance between it and its prey, eyes never blinking. "I'm not going to do a damn thing till you tell me where my team is."
Making sure her footstep was loud, Althea stepped up from her position along the rocky cave wall, bracing herself in the face of glares from both males. Sheppard's dark eyes narrowed as he met hers for a second, devoid of any trace of charisma or mirth that Althea found so alluring. There was nothing left behind but the appearance and shell of a belligerent warrior. In a sheer spontaneous instant Althea wondered what his face would look like if he were glad to see her, if she were someone who brought comradeship and not strife. Would his eyes crinkle at the corners, as they did whenever he spoke to that Athosian woman? Or would his entire face relax and his eyes grow soft as he was wont to do when he interacted with his Queen? She didn't know what she was feeling as she shook that thought away, but whatever it was, she felt it.
"Team near," she said, "good. No dead."
"Let me see them."
Althea hesitated. The second Sheppard finished Lynex gave a chill rumble. All it sounded like was a growl to an outsider like Sheppard, but to Althea, she heard a blatant threat. She blanched and without thinking lowered her gaze as any lower-ranked Wraith would have done, returning to her place along the wall, feeling foolish and insignificant.
"I could bring pieces of them if you so wish," Lynex said, returning his attention back to the man tied on the ground as if he never had been interrupted. Sheppard's nostrils flared in anger. The Wraith cocked his head, eyeridges lowering in a mock considering expression. "How about an ear or a hand?"
"Hurt them and it'll be the last thing you do," Sheppard said, eyes blazing with dead-earnest threat. He wrenched once at the bindings tying his hands. Icicle water dripped down Althea's spine; they were playing with fire.
"Ah, ah, Sheppard," Lynex was saying, lips trembling as he spat out the last word, "I would tread carefully. You are in no position to make demands."
Sheppard swore under his breath, lips tight and eyes never flinching.
"Then what the hell do y'want?"
"Complete cooperation for you and your team," the Wraith said, "no trouble and no questions asked."
Sheppard sneered, an Are you on serious? expression on his face. "And why the hell would we do that? Last I checked you were the ene—"
"The location of your precious City," Lynex said, teeth glinting in the dim light of the cave, eyes glowing black, "you want that kept a secret, do you not?"
An abrupt silence.
Then:
"Sorry to burst your bubble and rain on your happy cloud, but we have it cloaked. You won't be able to find it."
"True, at first. But I can assure you wouldn't last."
Sheppard's face smoothed. He looked to the side as if the ground was more interesting than the Wraith and the gun, curling his upper lip in intense thought. Lynex watched with hungry, predatory eyes.
"Wait a minute." Sheppard's brow crinkled. His eyes narrowed as he looked back at Lynex. "You. I've seen you before, you and that—you! You!" He leaned forward as far as his constraints let him, voice picking up volume and colour as recognition connected in his mind. "You were in the Genii cages!"
Lynex fingered the hammer on the pistol. His hair glinted white from the grayish-blue light from outside. "Your point, human?"
Sheppard's grin was anything but friendly. His head developed a rakish tilt. "I knew I should've let you starve in that cage. Damn close to dying, too. How did it f—"
The finger on the hammer twitched. Althea hardly registered the condensed spade of electricity which exploded from the pistol and hit the man on his right shoulder with a loud hewheet.
The reaction was instantaneous.
"Gaaaaaaaaaah!" A shocked, hoarse cry of pain issued from the Sheppard's throat as his body instinctually curled to relieve itself of the sudden agony. Tendons stood out in his neck as he grimaced in agony, mouth clamping shut in his desire not to voice his torment. Tongues of residue electricity licked the area of impact, their faint spit and crickle overriding the Atlantian leader's harsh panting. Heavy, pained breathing filled the cave. The acrid stench of electricity stung the nose and stiffened the hair on Althea's arms. The young woman felt her eyes glued on the surrealistic scene, feeling faint. Her eyes felt on rusty hinges as they swiveled to Lynex. A mask of loathing and hatred was hardening on his face. From the heave of his chest Althea knew Sheppard wasn't the only one breathing hard. She felt as if she were floating outside her body and seeing the scene from a god's view point, detached from the moment. She braced for Lynex to reach down and tear Sheppard to bits.
"If you ever," Lynex said, upper lip trembling, voice choked, "speak of me in such a manner again, I will kill you."
"You and the rest of my enemies," said Sheppard between clenched teeth. A sheen of sweat covered his forehead. He glared at Lynex through his disheveled screen of hair before eying the inauspicious weapon held in the bluish-green hand. Althea stared at it too, never once witnessing a bolt of energy such as that before now. She wondered if Lynex had tinkered with it or if that setting came standard and had never been used before. For the Wraith, there was never the use to kill one's prey; they would just eat them later. Lynex's eyelids fluttered shut as he took a deep breath and let it out through his nose. He was silent for a long moment. Then he brought the pistol back up pointed it to Sheppard's head.
"Your cooperation. Now."
"I don't feel like giving it," came the retort. Then he fell silent. At first glance one would say he was stalling, but Althea knew better; she knew he was thinking hard and fast, running over everything said and trying to find a loophole in the mess. To find an exit door. To beat them. The more Wraithlike side of her said now was the perfect time to force Sheppard's hand, now when he was quiet with indecision and without a plan. But the feeble twitch of humanity in her said she was more than ready to let him take a break; hadn't he suffered enough? He hates us, Althea thought, wondering why she could become so depressed at that thought. She'd just be another enemy, another blank face he'd have to shoot, but at least they might win back their Hive and her honor.
Lynex pointed the pistol at his head, as if having enough of the quiet.
"Cooperation, or have your human brain forgotten already what this can do?"
Sheppard's whole body tensed, his scruffy and tousled hair giving him a haggard look. On any other person it was the appearance of desperation, but what came out of his mouth dispelled that idea.
"Don't you think that's a little anticlimactic? You know, the whole gun thing? If you ask me, it's a little overdone."
Lynex offered the man on the ground a soft smile, eyes trailing over the odd material of the man's jacket, the Atlantis emblem, the black military boots. The pistol's angle tilted lower and lower south till it was directed straight between Sheppard's legs. The Atlantian was tied in a certain way that prevented any movement of the below the waist. He struggled at the sinewy binds, face paling as he caught on his antagonizer's intention.
"One shot debilitates you." The smile widened, lips pulling away from purplish-black gums and tented teeth. He pulled back the hidden hammer on the pistol again. The ominous click! stilled Sheppard's movements and rooted Althea's feet to the floor. "Three shots and I promise you will never walk straight again."
"Whoa, whoa! Wait, hold on, let's not be hasty now; I can be reasonable," Sheppard said.
"I have you and your teams' cooperation?" The Wraith's voice was smug.
Sheppard's face contorted as if eating a sprig of aged dandelion stems, fighting with himself bitterly. Lynex made a show of tightening his finger on the trigger.
"Geeze, if you were that serious why didn't you say so?" Sheppard said, still not taking his eyes off the gun pointed at his nether regions. His throat worked as he swallowed. "Could ya aim that somewhere else?" Lynex didn't move. "You have my word, okay? Now, you might want to be careful with that."
A tip of Lynex's mouth quirked in a rude sneer, eyes black-green and hostile. With a sweeping gesture the Wraith sheathed the dark-blue weapon with the yellow membrane lights. He gave a grunt of satisfaction seeing that business was done for the most part. He turned to leave and made it half-out before Sheppard spoke up again:
"Wait! At least let me see them; I need to know if they're okay."
The brusque hesitation roughening Sheppard's voice almost drove Althea outside; there was a desperate quality in his tone that she couldn't stand. It spoke of humanity, it spoke of concern for friends. It spoke of everything she knew hardly anything of. That was unacceptable to her. She reached out and touched Lynex's elbow, stopping him. She stared straight at his fierce look of disproval without blinking.
"What harm will it do?" she said. The Wraith's cat-slitted eyes were uncompromising. "It will increase his trust in us, will calm his mind."
"Taking his side now? Want to save him from his loneliness?" Lynex said, words swift and harsh.
Althea recoiled, stung, but maintained eye-contact. "Let him see his team," she said. "It won't do any harm."
She was close enough to hear Lynex growl in his throat in anger, a low vibration along the edges of her hearing, but didn't back down. With a louder growl Lynex stomped back toward the human who had been sitting silent on the floor and watching the guttural exchange with suspicion tight in his features. His body gave an involuntary flinch when Lynex dropped to one knee besides him.
"Hey, what're y—?"
"Silence."
Thank you, Lynex, Althea thought as the young Wraith took apart the knots tying Sheppard's feet and legs together with deft twists of his claws. She stepped out of the way as the Wraith grasped Sheppard by the nape of his collar and proceeded to half drag, half carry him out, all the while giving random shakes of irritation whenever Sheppard stumbled or lost his footing. Althea followed a few feet behind, her loose hair writhing like a bed of snakes as the wind swooped down to play with her. The chill stung her nose and the brightness of the peregrine blue-gray sky brought tears to her eyes. Why didn't we pick a warmer planet? she thought as she observed Lynex's anger at in every shake he gave his hapless prisoner as they made to the scientist's cave first. Lynex shoved Sheppard into the cave, not caring that the man collided with the serrated, jagged wall with shoulder-numbing force.
"Sheppard! Oh, thank God—"
Sheppard's voice was low. "Rodney? You alright?"
"Alright? Alright! Is that all what you can say at a time like this? I'm tied up and cold and hungry and I think I have frostbite—"
"Yup, you're fine," Sheppard said, closing his eyes for a moment. There was a brief struggle to get off the floor to a sitting position but he managed, propping himself up with the help of the cave's wall. Althea peeked into the cave and watched the two of them converse through the window the crook of Lynex's elbow made, trying her hardest to comprehend the words. Then when Rodney became aware of the gargoyle in the entrance most of what he said was lost to her, though the way his eyes seemed to eat his allowed her to guess what his thoughts were.
"Oh God, oh God oh God oh God—"
"Rodney?"
"There's a Wraith—oh God—I knew we were gonna die—"
"Rodney," Sheppard said through gritted teeth, "calm down; I'll figure a way ou—"
With a snarl Lynex reached down and grabbed Sheppard by the jacket's collar again, ignoring the hyperventilating scientist a few feet away.
"Sheppard!"
"Don't worry Rodney; I'll be f—ow! Hey, watch it!"
Althea backpedaled quickly out of the way and to the side as Lynex hurled the Atlantian team leader out of the cave, his trench coat fwaping in the gooseflesh-rising wind, his hair whiter than salt compared to the black mass of his leather and belts. He strode past Althea without a single look or glance in her direction, muscle clenching in his cheek and eyeridges low over his eyes. He made his way to where Sheppard had rolled to a stop and rested in a bed of tiny, tremulous violet flowers and was soon forcing the man toward another cave. Althea followed some distance away, wondering if Sheppard was grateful to her for letting him see his friends, or angry that she butted in and made things worse.
The next confrontation was quicker and far less than pleasant. At first Althea didn't to watch and waited outside in the cold, listening to Sheppard bark at Ronon to calm down. When she heard shouts she peeked inside in time to see the hulking man try to lunge at Lynex. Sheppard kept ordering him to stand down. In the end Ronon did as told, though his dark eyes remained malignant. He was grinning. It was a vicious and wolfish kind of smile, without a single ounce of friendliness. Althea recognized it from the first time she saw it in the Genii cages. Althea eyed the width of the man's shoulders, the touch of insanity in his face, and wished to the gods their business with the Atlantian team would end sooner than later. He disturbed her, from the Wraith hair that had acted as a grip for his sword to the finger bones he wore around his neck.
"I'll kill you," Ronon said through smiling lips, eyes unwavering. Althea understood the words well enough. Lynex didn't even deign to answer. Since his back was turned to her she couldn't see his expression, though she ventured a guess it wasn't pretty. Her theory was proven when, without a pause, he swung his left foot for a roundhouse kick right across the large man's face. The wet crack of boot against jaw resounded in the tight confines of the cave. Ronon slumped over, a runnel of blood trailing down a corner of his mouth, half of his face all ready turning red.
"Ronon!" Sheppard said, giving an involuntary start toward the fallen man. But Lynex whirled on him like an avenging demon and didn't give him a single chance to come to the other's aid. His hand clamped down on the back of Sheppard's neck, as uncompromising as hyena jaws.
"Would you like some too?" Lynex asked.
Sheppard narrowed his eyes in mock thoughtfulness and pretended to think about it.
"Uh, I'll have to say no, but I'd really appreciate it if you'd stop hurting my team. What's all this about, anyway? Can't we discuss this civilly?"
The Wraith wrinkled his nose in a leer. "You talk too much like the rest of humankind," was all he said before propelling Sheppard out of the little niche in the knoll and away from the prone man. Althea's feet shuffled her aside to let them pass. Althea frowned as Lynex shoved Sheppard into the last cave. The wind shrieked over the top of the knoll as she stood out in front of Ronon's cave. I need to get out of here, she thought, thinking of what she would give to lay eyes on one longleaf pine or blue spruce. She needed a change of scenery. This constant cold, the bitterness and self-loathing at was corrupting Lynex, the Sheppard who had more humanity than her. Althea mimicked a Wraith's growl of exasperation, running tented, numb fingers through her tawny, wind-swept hair. To think her hair had been so short all those months ago, cropped and torn by her teeth; it now rested just above her breasts. Nothing compared to Lynex's hair length; his ended at mid-back. And his texture was far more well-kept than hers, able to run through the fingers like cobweb silk. Her mouth quirked by itself. Her eyes saw beyond the tundra and grew distant. All those days she'd do just that to him on lazy, hot days when there was nothing needed to be done and he'd rumble his pleasure and thrum off to sleep, head in her lap. Of course, his face would still never lose a part of his in-bred wariness, but Althea had learned to live with it. She'd considered it adorable the way he'd turn his head a certain way, as if listening for footsteps, and the way he'd hiss in his sleep if something moved too quickly near his face. There was even a time she'd heard him snuffle when she accidentally brushed her hair against his nose. She never heard it again.
She gave a shaky sigh as she peeked back into Ronon's cave. Althea couldn't tell if he was acting or he was really out cold, him lying on his side quiet-like and trussed up like a calf. A mean calf. Wraith fingers adorned his throat. She entered in and made her cautious way toward the downed man. His shoulders raised and lowered in synchronization to his slow breathing. Reddish firelight highlighted the bone trinkets in his mess of hair and reflected off the leather overcoat. She shuffled closer. He didn't move. She toed him and took a step back. Still nothing. She took a steadying breath. After an intense moment of pulling, shoving, and grunting, she managed to move him off the hard, scree-covered ground and prop him back into the sitting position so that he would be more comfortable; if he slept like that on his leg he'd lose circulation. She wiped her forehead with the back of her forearm. Ronon groaned, tossing his head.
Althea fled outside and found herself almost running into Lynex. She took an automatic step back, mind hiccupping.
"Lynex?"
His face was soft, mouth relaxed, his eyes retaining a strange reflective quality in their catch lights. The pupils lost definition against the black inner iris but there was no doubt in her mind that he was staring straight at her. They held her transfixed as he shortened the distance between them till he was dead front of her. He stood, a full head taller, shoulders square and back straight. By now Lynex had bent towards her with his left hand on his thigh as support. Althea was close enough to see the veins in his eyes, close enough to count the thick, white lashes framing them, close enough pick up on the tiny pucker of scar tissue on his right eyeridge where he had gotten into a nasty fight years ago. Althea couldn't tell the difference between his breath and the chill of the air as it bit at her nose and cheeks. Lynex gave a gentle tilt to the side, alien face so familiar and comforting. Then in one smooth, careless motion he reached up with his right hand and curled around the back of her neck. Althea froze. She could feel the blood beneath her face crawl and gooseflesh erupt along her arms. Emphysema overtook her lungs; no matter how hard she tried to breathe no air came in. That was his right hand. The hand with the feeding slit.
"Little Dagger?"
He caressed her neck, hand tangling in her hair. Althea felt the damp, serrated ridge of his feeding slit rub against skin and something inside her shattered, breaking into gleaming shards.Her eyes were open but saw nothing except the memory of twisted husks and discarded carcasses. He brought his head in closer, encompassing the whole of her vision. His grip tightened. The nails bit into her skin.
"No more interruptions?"
She could look no where else but on his face.
"I wo . . ."
Her voice hitched.
". . . w-won't."
The nail of his thumb dug in a little deeper as he pulled her flush to his chest. The near-blackness of his leather blocked out the gray light of the sky, leaving her in darkness. She fell into his chest without struggle.
"Your word?"
Althea squeezed her eyes shut, freezing water replacing the blood in her veins. Hot, silent tears fell from her eyes and followed the contours of her face, pausing at the corners of her mouth before oozing downward to her chin. She almost missed what he said; the sensation of the feeding slit overpowered her concentration. It had the texture of a wet scab.
She must have nodded or sounded her consent because Lynex gave a grunt of satisfaction. Althea felt him shift all around her and tried not to shudder at the sensation of him shaking his claws out of the tangles in her hair. When he was finally free the young Wraith stepped back then walked off without a backward glance over his shoulder, leathers billowing at his feet, leaving Althea alone and shocked. The wind whistled over the knoll as the events finally clicked in her brain. The sobs she had held inside her quickly escalated from the little gasps to hysterical tears. Her fingers shook uncontrollably as she plastered her hands to her mouth to muffle herself like a child. She stood there for several minutes as she strove to remind herself that she was not dead, that Lynex had not crossed the line. But nothing she could think of removed the sensation of Lynex's deadly gash rubbing against her sensitive neck. Nothing. She scratched violently at the spot where the slit had touched her, not caring she was scratching herself raw and bleeding. She lost sensation in her legs and fell to the ground on her knees. She cried into her hands; part of it was in shaky relief, part in hurt betrayal, but mostly because the something that had shattered now tinkled down her insides like frozen chips of glass, embedding themselves in her most secret places and leaving her slashed and bleeding.
The tiny violet flowers trembled in encouragement at her knees, but they were far too little to help.
.s.
The sun sunk in the west and transformed the sky into a deep, bruised dome of grapes and smoldering embers, every bit as beautiful as a phoenix's death. Every now and again Althea would glance through the little entrance of the cave to watch the sunset, but that was a knee-jerk reaction at best. It was only when her ears heard the approaching crunch of scree underfoot did she drag herself back to reality, if only a little. She kept her eyes level to his shins as she watched the young Wraith enter the cave and make his way to his customary corner, never moving as she heard him crouch in his kneeling position, his leathers mantling around him like peregrine wings. She made sure her gaze came nowhere near his face, concentrating on the hiss and spit of the fire and let it heat her face to a dozy warmth. She listened to his gentle rumble of respiration without taking her eyes off the amber and orange flames, trying to gauge his mood.
Inch by inch she brought her gaze upward till at last she could see his face. She wasn't surprised that he too was staring into the fire, skin reflecting the mellow tones of the firelight, eyes brooding and tainted with the haunted look of self-bitterness. Althea drew her gaze away. Something was thrown down at her kneeled side and hit the ground with a distinctive smack. At first glance they looked like a tubers, but when she bent closer to look at them, they turned out to be a cluster of decapitated lemmings with missing innards and chunks of meat. She'd seen mountain dogs leave cleaner scraps than these. She picked up a meager carcass between her forefinger and thumb. Tufts of fur hung on flaps of tattered skin by mere threads, leaving behind the ligaments and muscle to shine in the firelight. It could've been considered a macabre beauty as the rainbow effect of metallic blue, green, and pink glistened off the exposed meat. She turned it this was and that, the little legs feeling as fragile as fish bones. After a hesitation, Althea placed her middle and index fingers on top of a leg with her thumb beneath them. She pushed her thumb upward.
Snap
The little sweet little tinkle of breaking bones stilled Lynex and caused him to look at her, the firelight shadows heightening his cheekbones and keeping his eyes in the dark sanctuary of his eyeridges.
"The Lanteans need to be fed tomorrow."
Althea bobbed her head at the same time she marveled at the levelness of his tone. Not a single note of regret, not a single nuance of hesitation. Was he so wrapped up in his own anger and anguished confusion that he was blind to hers? She chewed the inside of her bottom lip, hating the way the back of her eyes began to sting. Wraith don't have water in their eyes, she thought. Only humans do.
"Little Dagger?"
Her head shot up from spitting the lemmings to Lynex, eyes hovering between his chin and his throat, stomach a tight little knot.
Her voice stuck, so she had to cough. "Yes?"
He gave a careless twitch of his fingers toward the rodents in her hands.
"Do not eat them. Those are not for you."
.s.
"Ow! Did you have to tie me up so hard?"
Althea untied the final knot and shuffled back to let the scientist some room. "'Pol-o-gies," she said, and meant it. The scientist's wrists were raw and made perfect twin circles of red. She inwardly shook her head; Lynex had been a touch enthusiastic with this one.
"Oh no," the man said, paling, catching Althea's rueful look. "You didn't. Please tell me you didn't."
Althea stared back at him with a blank expression on her face. She tried to concentrate on the way he formed his words in attempt to follow his pace of speech, but as Rodney's voice grew shriller and shriller, she gave up.
"You let it do it, didn't you? You let it touch me!" Rodney exploded, eyes huge and face ashen. "It could have eaten me! And do you realize I could have been frostbitten? I have very tender skin. Not that you would know what frostbite is. In fact, I highly doubt you can even understand me. God! Can't I have at least one decent conversation in this Galaxy?"
Althea waited the storm out, reciting old Wraith hunting lores in her head. When she saw the man quiet down, she offered one of the lemmings in cradled hands. The young woman tried not to let her disappointment show as the Atlantian launched into another panicky tirade at the proffered meal, saying words like alveolar hydatid that completely flew over her head. She sighed. Didn't he know how much effort she put into the cooking? Of course not; that was wishful thinking on her part. She looked down at the pitiful carcass resting in her hands. The meat crispy brown on the edges. Nothing burnt. Not a trace of red in the inside. All the fur and skin scrapped off; Althea even put the extra effort of cleaning out the remains of the chest cavity so not to repulse the Atlantians. At least it worked for the mean warrior. He had torn into the meat no problem, minus the fact he ate without taking his eyes off Lynex the whole time and had having to be stunned again. And as for the tribeswoman, Althea didn't wait long enough to watch her reaction. She untied the knots, shoved the food at her, and let Lynex re-tie her back up, mumbling something about feeding the scientist.
Althea settled back on her haunches, frown tugging to corners of her mouth.
"Good eat," she said, bringing the lemming back up to face level. Rodney shrunk back, mouth moving too fast for her to follow. Althea looked at him in disbelief; didn't he know it would be a day since he'd last eaten? Yes, he must have because he had been complaining of hunger. Why didn't he eat? She growled. The torrent of words dammed up.
"Only eat," she said, motioning to the lemming. She shook her head when she pointed to the outside, then nodded at the rodent. She stared hard at the man, willing him to understand her.
"Hn." Rodney's mouth twisted a little in disgust but picked up the lemming with his thumb and forefinger; he reminded Althea of a wild dog snatching a meal while afraid of getting its muzzle caught in a trap. Her lips twitched, a tiny hiccup of mirth stirring from the depths of her bruised and aching heart. He was going to eat! She decided to let her approval show and hummed encouragement as the man brought the rodent to his mouth.
The lemming froze halfway to his lips.
"This doesn't have citrus, does it?"
Althea ran her tongue over her lips, wincing at the unfamiliar word. "Sah . . . . seh . . .?"
"Oh, forget it, never mind!"
Crrish
Rodney squeaked. Althea's shoulders tensed.
"Go and feed the last human."
She looked over her shoulder at Lynex, who apparently finished tying the tribeswoman. She uttered a quick "Yes," before trotting off, ignoring Rodney's cries of "Wait! Don't leave me with that—!"
Her nose stung as she walked back outside. A moderate wind met her and tried to get her to frolic, tossing up her leathers and tousling her hair. But when Althea continued to the last cave without a sign of conceding to its wishes it gave up and proceeded on teasing the little tundra flowers. Althea concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other till she came to the last, lonely niche in the knoll's side. It looked like any other with its triangular mouth and scree-covered ground. But Althea knew better. It was Sheppard's cave. She peeked in, some of her hair falling and obscuring her view. She remembered the anger in his face and she shuddered; he reminded her of a mocked Wraith: angry that they had been caught, cool in the moments afterward, then terrible and unexpected when they dealt punishment. Althea hesitated in the mouth of the cave.
"So, still buddy-buddy with the Wraith, huh?"
Althea froze.
Sheppard looked at her with a half-smile that didn't quite touch his eyes. For a second Althea debated just not feeding him and just waiting later, but her feet moved by themselves and she found herself kneeling by his side. She avoided looking at him. But from the angle of his neck and crook of his head she knew he was continuing to look at her; half an inch raise of the eyes a moment later told her that his mouth was still frozen in the wolfish smile.
"Eat, no fight," she said, presenting him the lemming with both hands.
"Your little plan's not gonna work. We have it cloaked. You won't be able to find it."
He's still talking about his City, Althea thought. Then she realized he was talking to her. She locked gazes with the man who presented such a curiosity, sense of danger, and mixture of feelings in her that she didn't even know what to categorize him as. Even now her mind hummed with danger yet her heart felt it behind its bony cage. The hazel brown eyes, so unlike the cat-like eyes with its round pupil and iris colour. The tousled, harassed hair so unlike the silky white locks. The beginnings of a beard, so unlike the smoothness of a Wraith's face. The carelessness, the offhand remarks, the masked readiness to protect friends. So human. So unlike a Wraith.
"You should give up now. Our people will find us and when they do," Sheppard twitched his head in an Oh well! gesture. "well, let's just say it won't be pleasant for you guys."
It was a struggle to remain focused; his voice was a special quality, flat compared to a Wraith's multi-tone yet exotic. She liked it's feel on her ears—that, and the way he spoke slow enough pace she could follow and plan her own response.
"No fight?" she said. "Word?"
The smile shrunk. "Now, why would I give it?"
"Eat!" Althea said.
Sheppard said nothing, but his eyes dropped to the meager lemming. Althea didn't need anything else. She untied him as fast as she could despite the fact her fingers found a strange clumsiness. Her efforts fumbled more than once. It was warm enough in the cave for her to smell his husky masculinity and feel his body heat radiate beneath the strange material of his jacket as she reached down to untie his hands. Though she tried not to put too much physical contact, she couldn't avoid the accidental brush of her arm against his back. His muscles felt bunched and tense. He's wary, she thought, the thought both gratifying and disappointing. She couldn't untie the knots quick enough. When she finally managed to unbind Lynex's zealous escape-me-nots she shuffled back a few feet and adopted her kneeling position, ready to hear his rebuke on the presentation of the meal. There was a slight crinkle of jacket material as an arm reached down and picked up the limp carcass. Althea watched the rodent lift in the air and disappear beyond her protective curtain of hair.
"So you know the truth now, huh?"
Althea found it easier to look him in the eye this time. Given time and she could become used to this.
"Truth?"
"You know, how they feed?" Sheppard said, nibbling a bit off the lemming. He had his face set in a thoughtful expression, yet beneath it all his eyes were hard and mocking. Althea saw right through it and knew she had no choice but to say the truth, a truth he already knew.
"Know, long, long."
"I've always wanted to ask you worshippers: How can you let them do that? Let them kill innocent human lives without doin anything. Don't you even know how they feed?" His voice was horror-stricken. Or awed. She couldn't tell the difference. Althea forced herself to maintain eye contact despite guilt bubbling inside her like a fountain. The wails of the dying, the blank sheep looks of the resigned. The rows and rows of cocoons.
"Yes."
"Oh, really? Last time we had this conversation you didn't seem half as hesitant as you do now. Why? Threatened to be fed on? Doesn't feel as good when you're seen as a meal, does it?" His mouth quirked. "Guess you worshippers all have time limits, huh?" She saw the anticipation in his face to feel contempt and she recoiled as the barb hit home. Worshipper, worshipper, worshipper, she thought. Why does he always consider me one of those sniveling cowards? Joining the Wraith because they are scared.
She growled. "No wur-sherrp-errr. Me. Young—" she showed an approximate height of a young child with her arm and outstretched hand "—choice-leave many time. No. Stay. Lll-uuh—" Her face contorted stuck on the one word Lynex never taught her, the one word so unused in Wraith vocabulary. "L-lovehim." Still frames flashed in her mind: the queen accusing. All the females testing her. Lynex, soft expression on his face, gripping the back of her neck. "Follow yes," she said, hands trembling, miserable, "watch eat, yes. Yes."
The half-glances of recognition from the other Wraith. Lynex asleep, his head in her lap. The roguish grins, the lazy summer days courting. Warrior, the stoic, brusque leader. Lynex pushing her down against the black pelts, affections sweet and warm and gentle. She was Little Dagger. She was one. She was small. She hardly stood a chance against any of them in hand-to-hand combat, didn't come anywhere near their physical prowess, and sure wasn't smart like the scientists. But they had raised her. They had given her all the skills for her to leave at any time but she never. They were everything she had. Maybe there would be a day where she would see their actions in a different light. Then came the most important thought of all: Am I staying with the Wraith because of Lynex?
"Watch, yes, but follow. No wur-sherrp-urr. Never. Only me."
For a long moment there was a silence between the two of them. In the background was the crickle of the fire and beyond that was the moan of the wind. Nothing else. In that pause something crossed Sheppard's face. An anticipation captured her senses. She leaned forward a little, waiting what kind of response he would have. Sheppard took a large bite of lemming. He chewed and swallowed, expression guarded now. Then he lifted the half-eaten rodent in a macabre salute.
"Now I know what disillusion looks like." He stared at her as if she had three heads. She didn't understand one of the words he used. "Good for you, Little Da—"
Hewheet!
There was an explosion of rocks and dust by Sheppard's ear as Lynex fired.
"Ow! Watch where you're aiming that th—"
"You will not," Lynex seethed, "say her name."
Althea looked at him, face blank.
"Not my fault she still follows you guys blindly," Sheppard said, brushing away the pebbles and dust off his shoulder. "Kudos for her."
Althea tried to hide her immense disappointment at the revulsion and regret in his words.
"You will not speak to her in such a manner," Lynex said, voice soft and intimate, as if he had whispered his words in Sheppard's ear and not five feet away with a gun in his hand.
"Why don't we talk in a civilized—"
Lynex tightened his trigger finger.
Sheppard's shoulders sagged a bit. "Or not. Look, we didn't come here looking for trouble, and the whole shooting thing is really unnec—"
Lynex shot him. Sheppard contorted in a second of agony, tendons standing out in his neck, hands curling like claws to his chest, before he toppled over on his side with a crunch of scree.
"Lynex!" Althea was appalled. "He didn't do anything!"
"I was receiving nothing intelligent from this one," he said in disgust. "The audacity," he said, the gun in his clenched hand shaking, "that he would dare say your—" He cut himself off, pursing his lips in an attempt to control himself. He stood ramrod straight for a couple of moments, eyes rolling behind fluttering lids as he took deep breathes.
Althea looked up at him, trying to gauge his mood. "What are we going to do now?"
He looked at her then back at the downed man, eyes almost blue with how much they reflected the morning tundra light.
"We have their cooperation," he said, voice ink velvet. With a jolt, Althea realized that for all his maturity Lynex never lost the mellow sonorousness of youth to the harsh baritone the other male Wraith his age exhibited. She looked through the cave's entrance and out to the tundra. Most of yesterday's clouds have herded northward, leaving the sky was blue as the lips of frozen person. My body won't keep me alive for thousands of years, she suddenly thought, aware the thought brought a different kind of sadness she was used to. It wasn't an envious sadness, or a self-loathing one. It was softer, more older, a mixture of wistfulness and rue. She would be sorry to leave Lynex so soon, sorry to grow wrinkled and old while he remained as virile and beautiful for ages to come. She was close enough to press herself to his side now, but kept the distance anyway. She remembered the wet slit on her neck. Her mouth tightened.
"We will win back Hive," Lynex said, voice was hushed, as if he were speaking to himself. "With the damned Lanteans, we will win the Hive. I swear this, Little Dagger."
Then he turned to leave, leathers billowing by his feet as he strode off.
And I swear that no matter what happens, Althea thought as she watched Lynex leave, finding herself strangely calm, I'll follow you through it all, even if you're the death of me.
.s.
"Well, that's just stupid."
Althea shot a swift, anxious look at the two figures behind her. She was a stone's throw away, hunched over a pile of lemming nests. She had allowed herself to be close enough to hear but nothing more, more than mindful of Lynex's threat. She scratched her neck with numb fingers, trying to forget the feel of wet scab. It hurt, there was no doubt about it. The betrayal was fresh and keen, but even now Althea hadn't the bravery face her companion. It wasn't the time for it anyway; Lynex and Sheppard were deep in the throes of a conversation that already was turning sour. Althea glanced up the sky. The sky was sheep's wool, the clouds lumpy and bright gray; it was impossible to gauge the sun's position behind them. How long had they been on this godsforsaken world? Who knew the state of the Hive? The more days that passed, the more arguing ensued, the grayer the situation was back on the homeworld.
Her stomach was an ouroboros, twisting to eat itself. She swallowed the frustration down but it wasn't easy; the muscles in her belly and crotch feel loose and uncomfortable, as if her restless agitation manifested itself in the desire to pee. A snarl brought her attention back to the two males. Lynex had reawakened Sheppard with a backhand that nearly broke the man's neck, not at all considering the human's frailty. Althea watched the Wraith then proceed to drag Sheppard outside so he could have enough room to pace. The human hadn't been awake for more than a few minutes before Lynex began demanding for action. Althea looked back down to her pile of rodent-woven grass, fragile and cold. Lynex wasn't hers anymore. His heart and mind was for the Hive. The human and Wraith were glaring at each other, Sheppard with his unflinching stare of a prisoner and Lynex with his slitted one of a Wraith. Somewhere along the line Lynex had lost his composed rigidness of his shoulders: they were slumped, his arms crossing and uncrossing as he paced before the bound man. Tundra wind flung his white hair.
"Goin in without recon?" Sheppard continued saying, head following Lynex's movements. His eyes were storms, furious the Wraith couldn't see his reason. "What do you want to do, die before you get anything done?"
Lynex's eyes slit further. His finger twitched, resting on the handle of his stunner. Althea heard him growl.
"Does it matter?"
"Hell it does! I'm not gonna risk the lives of my team over a mistake 'cause of poor recon. If we wanna do this right, we do it my way, got it?"
Lynex's growl took on a frightening edge. "How do I know you will not deliberately sabotage everything?"
"Because it's common sense," Sheppard said with a ridiculous emphasis that had Lynex snarling. "You can't just go in blind! We need to know what we're up against, which we can only do that with recon. I say we go in just to check first, then we figure out how we proceed, not before. Let me take my team, and—"
"No! I come with you; don't think for a moment I shall let you free yet."
"So, we good?" Sheppard said.
Lynex stared at him. His eyes were so dark they looked black.
The man seemed to catch on to Lynex's confusion of the colloquial phrase because he repeated, "We agree, I mean?"
Clever, Althea thought as she, too, realized what he had meant. He was forcing Lynex to play his had. The young woman couldn't help the ungracious part of her from admiring Sheppard: no wonder why he was such a force to reckon with. It was as if he wasn't tied up at all.
The Wraith peeled his lips from his fangs, translucent black. "Very well," he said. Saliva strung off his chin. "We do your human 'recon'. Then we retrieve the Hive."
"Wow, good plan! Think of that all by yourself?" Sheppard said.
Althea looked up in time to see Lynex shoot Sheppard in the leg. The blue electricity enveloped his limb and the man roared, an animal in pain. Sheppard curled on his side, face one of intense agony. The knolls echoed his cry and resounded across the mottled expanse, ringing, hollow, without answer save for the timid kwi, kwi, kwiiiiiiiii of a couple of tundra birds. The reaction was instantaneous. Althea abandoned her observatory station before she knew it and rushed over, her leathers flapping around her legs. Lynex was a statue for all he moved as she bent over and checked that the leg wasn't broken. Althea looked up and glared at Lynex.
"GodDAMMIT!" Sheppard roared. He rocked to a sitting position, tendons jutting out of the sides of his neck in cords. Althea touched his leg, both below and above his knee. The muscles beneath were rock hard, quivering. She could feel their sweaty warmth through the layers of the Atlantian's strange clothes. Lynex spat a hiss at her. Althea quickly removed her hands off Sheppard and shuffled a safe distance away, never taking her head from its bowed position. It was a move that had always shaken Lynex, always sure to invoke an apologetic and remorseful behavior from him afterwards. She risked a peek. His face was full of sharp angles, looking only at the human.
"Ggrrraaah, I shouldn't even be helping you!" Sheppard said when he had enough wind to speak. Althea could see wet steam escape from the top of his head. Her mind floated to a time Warrior taught her some basics of life. Heat rises. It condensates in the air and forms steam.
"Want your City's location kept a secret?" Lynex said, dragging her away from a kinder time.
Sheppard leveled a look at his tormentor. For such a trump card it seemed so weak in a face of the man's defiance.
"Oh, yeah? Who'd you tell if we don't help you? " Sheppard said. "Got cousins?"
"There're other clans we can turn to," Lynex said, upper lip curling. Althea shot him a glance; they had never spoken about this. "They would grant us high places among their ranks if we disclosed it to them."
"Oh, yeah? Well, why just don't you?" Sheppard said, teeth bared like a wild animal. "I'm sure it'll be easier than what you're going through now; not that I give a damn, really."
In that moment, Althea wondered if Sheppard wouldn't have any problem killing them. Probably not. A tightness came to her chest. It didn't matter if inches separated them, didn't matter they had the same physical traits. She knew she had to accept it; all her life she was driven to be acknowledged as a Wraith—not some flimsy attempt to integrate their culture, not some worshiper. She knew pursing Sheppard's affections was a contradiction to everything she was working for, but for the life of her couldn't understand why a sweet ache twinged inside her every time she sought him out. Maybe Sheppard knew it more consciously than her.
"That's not what I want," Lynex said. Althea narrowed her eyes. Sheppard frowned. His tousled, bedraggled hair dipped.
"And you still shoot me?" Sheppard said, mouth twitching in incredulity. He looked around him for a moment, as if to see if there were any other witnesses of this insanity. "What's up with you people? After all what you guys have done to me and my team, you wonder why I'm less then inclined to help you? That's not including you suck the lives of millions of people."
For an instant Lynex's face was frozen. Then his jaws clenched.
"Lynex, no!" Althea crouched between the Wraith and the Atlantian leader, arms wide. Lynex growled at her, a thick, menacing sound. Althea hunched her shoulders. She could feel Sheppard's attention on her but ignored it. She made her voice lilt in submission, trying to make herself smaller than what she really was. "Let it go, Lynex. We can't afford more delays. Think of the Hive. Sheppard already told us he'll help; if he doesn't, we kill him and his team."
For a moment Lynex pursed his lips, eyes roaming over her meek posture and pleading expression. He folded his arms across his chest, the leather of his black uniform creaking. He nibbled at his upper lip, worrying it with his teeth, eyes dark and pensive. A lull in the wind had his hair resting in two thick sheaves on his shoulders, no longer silky but wind-wild and tangled.
"For once," Lynex said at last, "you are right; we can just kill them if they don't cooperate."
Althea nodded once and scuttled away to a respectable distance, keeping her head bowed. The moment she was a distance away Lynex drop to a bended knee besides Sheppard and yanked him close by his collar. Wraith and man were close enough to kiss. Sheppard's head recoiled just a bit, lips tight from tension and thinly-veiled repulsion. His eyes flitted from Lynex's teeth to his eyes. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
"If you do anything to ruin this mission, human," Lynex said, lips peeled from translucent teeth, "I will come back and I will kill your queen, kill your team, destroy your city, and wipe any trace of the pathetic home you call Atlantis from existence."
Sheppard's stare was unblinking. "What's your point."
Lynex shook him closer. His words dropped to whispers. Althea's ears had to strain to hear them. "I will make you suffer as I am suffering. I swear it."
"Oh, yeah?" Sheppard said. His expression took a frightening edge. It was predatory. It was protective. It was the expression of a Wraith who, all those years ago, taught her cornered animals were more dangerous than free ones. "Well, if you make my team suffer, I willretaliate and believe me, you'll have bigger problems than your little Hive to worry about."
For a heartbeat, the two of them locked eyes. It was to Althea's astonishment Lynex was the one to break eye-contact first. Lynex knew it too. The Wraith shoved the tied man back so he slammed to the ground and then stalked off, his leathers billowing around his legs and white hair whipped around his head. The wind shrieked anew. Althea helped Sheppard up, cutting the cord binding his feet together and helping him limp back to the caves. The final stages were being put into motion. If all of them survived it, that is.
.s.
Althea had some basic knowledge of hunting lore gleamed off of Warrior and Lynex through the years, but had little understanding of what 'recon' meant. She rarely participated in any of the cullings when she was in the Hives, always alone on her private hunts. She could forget about asking Lynex what it meant; the Wraith was a dark cloud of activity, testing bonds, pacing back and forth, hissing to himself. He left without speaking to Althea and came back with his hands and knees were covered with soil, one of his nails was broken and bleeding. Althea felt the irritation build as the day progressed until she felt it burn. What the hell did he mean they had other clans they could talk to? If anything, they'd be branded as traitors and exiles for not dying for their Hive.
Her hands were sweating when at last Lynex told her to check on the humans. She went to each of the humans one by one, jerking the tribeswoman's bounds. It felt good to hear the woman grunt in discomfort. She snapped at Rodney to shut his useless mouth up, not even caring if she spoke in Wraith. The confused look on the scientist's face said she did. Ronon she left unmolested, though she met his look of hatred for one of her own. It didn't take long to find Lynex; he was in their cave, sorting through the pile of weapons. Apparently he had returned to the world where they had cached the humans' knives and guns. He didn't turn around as Althea stood in the entrance. It took her a moment to compose her voice, but even then, it wobbled like a taut bowstring.
"Lynex, we need to talk."
Lynex didn't even grunt.
"Are you listening to me?"
"What is it."
Althea took it as an invitation to march up to him and crouch right in front of him. Heady anger made her shove her face in his. His cool breath fanned her face, odorless. His black eyes met hers, dangerous, ominous, rising in annoyance. Althea shoved through it all without a second thought as she poke his shoulder, hard, with a finger.
"What the gra-kev was that out there?" she asked. "Have you forgotten it's my Hive too? And what the hell did you mean by 'I'? What happened to the 'we'? Dammit, Lynex, don't you even remember who I—!"
With the speed which made him deadly even among his kind Lynex sprung forward, using his body to propel himself at the young woman. The result was inevitable. Althea had already been unbalanced to begin with and, even if she was in a position to evade the attack, it'd be doubtable she'd get very far. Her back slammed against the sediment layers of the wall, crushed, one arm across her throat with enough weight pressed against it to limit her breathing to a shallow pant. Her head was forced half-way back, tilted upward and unable to move away from the nose-to-nose stare Lynex positioned himself in. The Wraith himself enveloped the whole of her sight, his hair curtains blocking out most of the light coming from the entrance. Though she couldn't see she could feel his body all around her, legs bent like a sitting dog's on either side of her arms, his feet tight by her upper thighs. His other arm had braced against the wall for support. And although he normally felt cool to the touch, she could feel body heat come from him.
She could barely swallow. She stared up at Lynex, unblinking but defiant, challenging and far from backing down. She waited for him to say something, anything, but there was nothing forthcoming. He kept staring down at her, his gaze very dark and very wide. If she died here, he'd probably be the last thing she'd see.
"Go on," she said, voice trembling but resolute, wavering in a mixture of pride, bitter resignation, love, hatred, contempt and pity. The pressure at her throat allowed her only the softest of whispers but she attempted to lift her chin, as if to give him better access. "Do it. Kill me."
"It means nothing to me to kill you."
Althea felt some of her resolution crack. Lynex's voice had been soft—no, not the velvet purr from before; that was gone, the loss of the Hive long since warping and roughening it to a harsh, guttural rumble. The sweetness had vanished; he sounded like any other Wraith now. Even now his voice was monotone, impartial. Nonetheless when he spoke it was with a soft cadence, a glimmer of a shadow of the old Lynex; tt was enough to plant a pale worm of doubt. No. She couldn't be fooled. She lived all her life with the Wraith; she knew their darker side better than anyone, despite what Sheppard's claims of her living a sheltered, pampered life.
"It would mean a lot to me," Althea said. Her throat worked as she struggled to fight her instinctive fear. If she lost Lynex, it'd mean the end of her anyway. This was more than a passion, emotion-clouded thought; it was also one of chilling certainty. Where would she go? She wasn't completely Wraith nor was she completely human. The mélange of her of upbringing and her physical, hard-wired traits would immediately put her in a disadvantage anywhere she'd turn. No human village would accept her; and forget about another Hive taking her in. Her Hive had accepted her due to Warrior's influence, nothing more, nothing less. They didn't care. The only difference between them and the other Hives was that they had become accustomed to her, a vital state of mind for Althea's continued existence among them. She was too soft to be considered a Wraith, but too cruel to be considered human. She was neither, a hybrid, an anomaly. Apart from Warrior, Lynex had been the only who truly accepted her for what she was. Now she was losing him. If that happened, she was as good as dead. All around her Lynex tightened: the arm around her throat, his legs, his body. His cobwebby musk filled her nose as the cold, supple sensation of his leather pressed against her throat. She fought to stay afloat.
"Isn't this what you want?" Althea said, breathing quickening, heart thudding in her mouth. Her eyes were stinging. She fought against them with all the savagery taught her. "I'm in the way. If the Hive means that much to you, you should get rkrreh—" Her eyes bulged as the arm pressed, almost punishing, in its force. Her lungs panicked as her struggled to talk, to breath, to anything. Her strength meant nothing.
"Is this truly what you want?" Lynex's voice was low but his eyes were wide, terrible in their curiosity, fuming. He watched her, an overhead god, gaze fluctuating between that morbid curiosity and that indescribable anger. When he eased off the pressure Althea all but clawed for a breath, arching her back for any sort of respite, her body betraying her mind in its unshakable will to survive. Her struggling caused her body to curl flush against Lynex's. His heartbeat thudded through her, powerful but rapid, no longer its usual slow, measured tempo. Frustrated, confused, terrified, furious, Althea stabilized herself with each breath she took. Within moments her lungs no longer burned. Her instincts subdued and she found herself back in the same situation as before. Despite her will hot tears escaped the corners of her eyes as she stared up at Lynex. His breathing was heavier than normal, his nostrils flaring, mouth half-lifted in a trembling snarl. His gaze was black and furious. His were Wraith eyes.
"Yes."
Without warning Lynex slammed the hand he had been using as support against the wall. Althea flinched as rocks and dust showered the both of them, the judder pebbles pinking to the cave's floor.
"Why!"
Althea flinched again, this time at the near-roar of the question. But she refused to break eye contact, refused to give what little ground she'd gain, refused to give in the mentality of survival.
"I'm losing you," she said, voice wavering but clear. "I'd rather die before letting that happen."
Lynex froze; she could feel the muscles in his arm behind the leather tense and knot, his head recoiling a few centimeters back before stilling like a corpse. He remained that way for a heartbeat, unmoving. Then, slowly, his mouth lost the snarl. His lips became straight, neither smiling nor frowning. He blinked, once, before closing his eyes, his eyelashes white against the green backdrop of his skin. His head sunk towards hers. Althea recoiled a tiniest bit, afraid to breathe. There was no pain. He didn't feed on her. She was still alive. She felt him sigh all around her as he rested his chin atop her head; her vision now became smothered in the collar of his hunting jacket, her eyes wide but unseeing as what little light was left was utterly blocked. His arm at her throat left and found her shoulder, nothing more than a dead weight. She could feel the points of his claws through her leather. His chest pressed against hers; his heartbeat had slowed down to its steady, rhythmic tempo. In her mind's eye she couldn't decide if his eyes were half-lidded as if spent, as the old Lynex would've done, or if he was staring straight ahead at nothing, taking this time to regain his composure and nothing else, like the new Lynex.
She wished she could pretend it was the former. Althea allowed herself to remain Lynex's prop, relishing what little comfort to be had with his proximity. Tears came unbidden but were held at bay; tears had no place in the Wraith's world. So she stayed where she was, struggling not to cry, resisting the urge to move close lest the slightest movement on her part shattered the brief yet intimate moment between them. If she had been terrified before of him leaving, she was stricken with it now.
Above her, Lynex's jaw moved against her head. She felt the vibrations of her voice through his jaw.
"You fool." His words were listless sighs, with as much life as a corpse.
A number of scenarios flickered through her mind. This was the moment she could protest violently, shake out of the uncomfortable embrace and force Lynex to look at her eye-to-eye and tell him just what she thought. This was when she could prove him wrong and profess her love and shower him with support, that'd she'd always be his side no matter what he did to her. A younger Althea would. A fresher Althea would. This was it. But she didn't. She kept quiet, bowing under the soft, heatless rebuke, bowing under her own hesitation, bowing under the weight of her unwanted wisdom. She wasn't the child she once was where everything had been clear-cut and black or white; she was older now, understanding now that even if they'd find the Hive things would never quite be the same between them; Althea was sure of it. Both were a little more broken, a little less innocent. They themselves, for good or for worse, had changed, and the amount of bitter regret Althea experienced drew the wind out of her lungs as if Lynex punched her in the gut.
"I love you." She did love him, as much as she was frustrated and bitter and unsure. For the rest of her days he'd remain that youthful yet wearied, handsome yet damaged Wraith she'd called companion and lover in her youth—after all, she'd be dead long before she saw anything else.
"You fool," Lynex said again, but his arms tightened imperceptibly around her.
.s.
The wind was picking up when all the humans were assembled, freezing and biting any flesh it could reach. The little tundra birds whistled their kwi, kwi cries somewhere in the frozen landscape. Rodney complained plaintively he could catch frostbite—oh no, he already had it, he couldn't feel his fingers. Ronon leaned to him and told him to take it like a man, don't give their enemies the satisfaction. As if to show the scientist how it was done, he looked up and shot Althea a glare of cheerful violence, mouth lifted in a ferocious smile. Althea looked away.
"Hey, are we gonna have any weapons while we do this?" Sheppard said. With all of his team present some of his concern had leaked away, abject irritation taking its place. His lips were still thin, a perpetual frown marring his face. He squinted against the painfully bright gray sky at the Wraith. He didn't look at Althea.
Lynex ignored him. Ronon growled in a startling good mimic of an aggravated Wraith, his dark eyes direct and challenging. Teyla's lips moved, her words too low for Althea to hear. Within moments Ronon was retreating, his face twitching as if he wanted to tear Lynex from limb to limb.
"Well?" Sheppard said. He had to raise his voice to be heard over the wind. "Weapons?"
Lynex took out his stunner from its holster. Everyone except Ronon recoiled a little; the fear was a well-oiled sound, a hesitation big enough for Lynex to regain some semblance of control. Obviously they had heard Sheppard's roars of pain to know the Wraith meant business. Sheppard's eyes darkened, his lips tightening all the more.
"I will be the sole to carry a weapon," Lynex said. The snarling malignance from before had somehow simmered down; his tone was low. "Make one move out of place and I'll kill the one next to you."
Sheppard's upper lip curled and tightened against his teeth. Ronon's gaze faltered and he looked away in frustration; he was between Rodney and Teyla. The tribeswoman touched his arm and shook her head with an imperceptible movement, the message clear in her eyes: Don't. Althea watched all of this from her humble position in the back, realizing she had passed the invisible point of no return. There was no turning back. It was clear she was using their lives for her own personal gain. She looked away, frowning, agitated. She had become too attached to this team. She now knew for certain cultural rifts between them were too great; she may have the same skin but she wasn't one of them. Sheppard would always remain a confusing, unexplainable ache, always an unreachable distance away. Lynex stepped back and grunted. Althea hastened to untie the Atlantians, keeping her eyes down as her numb fingers worked away at the knots and bindings, quick to move onto the next person until they were all free. She didn't dare look at Sheppard, and only dared to approach the beast of a man called Ronon when Lynex was behind her. When she was finished she stepped back. Only Rodney wrung his wrists, hissing under his breath; the rest ignored the indignity of their raw chafe marks with cool looks.
Althea shuddered on what would happen if their positions were reversed. There would be no mercy. They had, after all, kidnapped them, imprisoned them, beat them, pressed them into aiding them with nothing more than blackmail and threats. Althea and Lynex deserved nothing less for their selfish actions. Even now Althea chagrined; she and Lynex were truly playing with fire. No wonder why the Atlantians were forces to be reckoned with, even among the Wraiths. She prayed to the gods the Atlantians never got their revenge. No, she wouldn't be sadden to part ways with the humans. She couldn't decide between which man she'd rather never see again: the savage man or Sheppard. Lynex kept his stunner loose and in plain sight as he told the Atlantians to move. He made them go first, making them fanned out in such a way they never were in single file. Althea took up the rear, a few steps behind the Wraith.
.s.
Finding the Ring was hardly a task. The stone formation was the sole landmark, nothing around it for mile after heart-breaking mile, an endless expanse of dark browns and grays; even the tiny violet flowers had become a scarcity. The lemmings were gone, the birds silent and nonexistent. The Ring stood, a dark passageway in the morose and shrieking gloom, always to remain a lonely sentient on this forsaken, unnamed planet. Althea felt no pity it would stay on this world until the end of its days; all what mattered was that she was the one leaving. The desire to abandon this tundra world had become an insatiable energy within her, twisting her bowls and quickening her legs. The only thing that kept her from running full-out was Lynex's order to take up the rear. She kept glancing at Lynex's back; if he felt the same way as her he was showing no signs of it. His pace never picked up once, his hand on the stunner pliable and ready.
When they approached the stone behemoth Rodney muttered, "Oh, thank God." Lynex slunk his way amongst the humans and stalked up to the dialing device. For one horrifying moment Althea wondered if she or Lynex had forgotten the address to the homeworld. Her relief almost made her weak and giddy with a touch of hysteria as Lynex clicked the correct glyphs in the dialing sequence.
The Ring groaned to life as lights sped around its massive ring, the symbols locking into place. Everyone moved back out of its way as, with a mighty whoosh, the Ring activated. Rippling blue lights, the same as an aquarium's, swam across the ground. Its unnatural light beckoned Althea to the point of agony; she looked at Lynex, hoping to convey all of her eagerness in one, brief glance.
The Wraith growled. "Go."
Sheppard growled himself. "How are we to defend ourselves without weapons?"
"Yeah! What he said," Rodney said.
Both Sheppard and Lynex glared at him.
Rodney blinked rapidly and backed away next to Ronon with a quick, "Sorry." Teyla threw him a look of exasperation.
"The Ring won't be guarded."
Sheppard snorted. "And how the hell are we supposed to know that?"
Lynex's mood shifted. "Move quick, then."
Sheppard wasn't done. He took a step closer to Lynex, narrowing his eyes in bristling suspicion. "And how are we supposed to know this isn't some trick and a bunch of your Wraith buddies are waiting on the other side? Huh? How are we supposed to know that."
"You'll have to trust us."
Sheppard remained stock-still as the hilarity of the situation clouted him alongside the head. When he realized what the Wraith was saying, he rolled him a look dripping with sarcasm.
"You've got to be kidding m—"
Lynex's pistol was cocked and aimed at Sheppard's head before the Atlantian could finish his sentence. The pistol was not a hairsbreadth away from Sheppard's face. Lynex held his arm straight out, his shoulder rubbing against the side of his face.
"Ronon!" Teyla said.
The dreadlocked-man launched himself at Lynex with a roar, reaching with clawed hands at the straight arm.
Lynex's eyes widened in surprise.
With terrible speed the Wraith whirled his arm away out of Ronon's reach. Then, in the same position, Lynex allowed the man's momentum to carry him a step more before springing forward himself, his shape almost blurring at the speed he moved. Before anyone could blink the stunner was no longer in Sheppard's face but buried in Ronon's upturned throat with punishing force. The seasoned warrior had no choice but to crane his head back to breathe, panting, eyes rolling to glare at his tormentor. Pure hatred wasn't an evil enough emotion to suitably describe the runner's expression.
And, like that, within moments all movement stopped. No one moved, all eyes trained on the struggle between man and Wraith.
Teyla's shoulders had lowered in a crouch, her eyes locked on the Wraith. Her hands were splayed, palms down, as if she were blind in front of her. Althea recognized the offensive posture immediately.
Lynex jerked once, as if spooked. His eyes found Teyla's; he glared balefully down at her.
"I set it to kill. Move, and shoot him," he said.
Teyla's gaze twitched at Ronon. The man's glance was resolute, stoic, demanding she'd exclude his own life and save the others. Lynex must have intercepted the look because when he spoke to her again, it was with a chilling menace.
"I know what you can do, Lantean. Attempt to take over my mind and my woman will slit McKay's throat."
Teyla's eyes flicked to Rodney and tightened at what she saw. During Ronon's attack Althea had whipped out the knife Lynex gave her and had run at Rodney. The scientist had little time to react before she held it to his throat. She did so in a matter that kept the scientist in front of her, the point of the knife touching with the minutest pressure on his carotid artery. A flash of some emotion—brief, fleeting, paralyzing—had flown across his face as he froze, throat working, hands half-way up in a peaceful gesture of surrender. He now looked at Teyla, eyes bulging. Althea looked at her too, waiting for her instructions with dread.
Listen to him, Althea thought. Don't make me kill Rodney.
If Teyla could hear her she made no sign of it, not moving for a few heartbeats more. Then, hiding all emotion behind a mask of granite, she gracefully looked away and gave ground, dropping away the aggressive stance.
Lynex looked up at Ronon; the stunner was still pressed against the man's throat.
Relief came from a miracle.
"Alright, alright, we'll do it, you win; you can put the gun down now," Sheppard said, palms up and half-crouched, as if attempting to placate a child. "Let's not do something stupid."
Lynex immediately backed away from Ronon. Ronon didn't touch his throat to inspect the damage but backed away as well, glare smoldering. Althea quickly took her little knife away from Rodney. Rodney had no exhibitions; he sighed in a haggard whoosh, touching the place where the knife had been and inspecting his fingers, as if looking for blood. Ronon looked over and began to move towards him. Althea was swift to retreat, unwilling to aggravate the savage, dreadlocked man any further. She looked up in time to see Lynex boring his eyes into Sheppard's, the lightest of pants proving the Wraith had exerted any energy at all.
"We are not asking."
Sheppard bobbed his head once in a terse nod, eyes dark and unhappy, knowing at last he was beaten. He looked at each one of his team, pausing at each one, making sure they were looking at him in turn.
"Stay safe, guys," he said. He turned around and, without pausing, walked straight into the shimmering pseudo water of the portal. The water sucked him up and, like that, he was gone.
There was little time to stand in awe.
"Move it!" Lynex said, his voice alone enough to make Rodney twitch and quickly follow John's footsteps. Teyla and Ronon shared a swift glance before disappearing through the Ring. Lynex strode after them, Althea close behind.
.s.
Althea stepped onto the world last, feeling the rough dirt beneath the thin soles of her shoes. It was dawn, the twin amethyst moons glowing in eerie ghostlight against the chilly sky. All around a silent forest welcomed them, a slow wind shhhhhing through the pine. The shimmering lights from the portal remained just long enough to allow her to walk a few feet before shutting down, the harsh blue of dawn descending onto the group. No one moved nor talked, all of them crouched low to the ground. Sheppard was at the farthest point ahead with his back to them, fist held up, still as stone; even Althea knew they couldn't risk running into the safety of the trees lest their movements triggered something. Their breaths escaped in the air in writhing, pale clouds. But as the moments ticked past and nothing fired nor came at them, Althea frowned. Lynex had his stunner out in front of him, eyes scanning the nearby forest. His slitted eyes were keener than a humans, no doubt cutting through the blue dimness with as much ease as a cat. Althea hissed at him. Anything?
He glanced at her and shook his head once. No.
Althea looked back in front of her, a frown pulling her brows together.
They were alone.
An aura of intense concentration came from the Atlantian team; even Rodney had fallen into place, his fidgety energy disappearing as Sheppard signaled to his team to fan out, his arm and fist moving in foreign meanings. Lynex clicked at Althea, jarring her from her thoughts. Follow them. Althea mimicked Sheppard's hunched scuttle, hating the feeling she was a stranger in her own home, nauseous at the thought she was sneaking when she used to walk boldly. Now she winced at every sound her leathers made. The monolith pines swayed all around them, unchanging over the hundreds of years except for their girth and reach. She looked around, uneasy; Rings so close to Hives were usually guarded by pair, even during a time of relative peace. Aside from the wind and the trees and the grass, nothing else made a sound. Where were the underground vibrations of the Hives' generators? Where were the whine of patrolling darts?
Lynex quickened his pace, his movements velvet soft, and came abreast to Sheppard. They exchanged low words for a moment before Sheppard signaled the others to go into the forest.
The highlands, Althea thought, moving quickly. She covered took up the rear again, ducking into the forest with the others as loons do water, feeling more and more confident with each step she took. She knew what Lynex wanted to do. Her feet, so uncertain for months, became steady and true as they followed the familiar paths up towards the rocky crags overlooking the Hive. Several times she had to wait for Rodney to catch up, becoming agitated and restless with each delay he took. She didn't dare growl at him to hurry, though. Even if Ronon wasn't near she wouldn't dare raise her voice and betray their position. It didn't take long for Sheppard's team to make it to the ledges; little did they know this was where Lynex and Althea courted all those months ago. They had clear view above the trees, able to look out for miles at the forest. Sheppard kept his team low to the ground but didn't say anything as Lynex began to half-crawl, half-walk to the ledge to look down. When the Wraith reached it, he became still.
Anxiety curdled Althea's stomach as she, too, abandoned her post to go look at the state of her home. She went to Lynex's side, accidentally brushing against him. He was trembling.
"Lynex? What's—"
Then she saw it. She rose to her feet, ignoring Sheppard's hiss for her to stay down—didn't she want to stay hidden? She forgot the Atlantians, forgot Lynex, forgot her own name.
"The Hive," she said. "It's gone."
