Book Two, Tsydon
Chapter Eight
The Exalted Lord Yu Huang Shang Ti
"The day has been long and tiring, I'm sure." Ba'al spoke softly behind him. "Come, eat. Restore yourself." He walked through an open archway into the room beyond, leaving Daniel with a rumbling stomach as mention of food woke his empty innards.
He followed the Goa'uld and found himself in Ba'al's throne room. Dimly lit, the shadows hung darkly in the vast chamber. A single pool of light draped over the throne, and a small table laid with savoury-scented pots sat at its foot.
Daniel walked slowly toward the light. "Tell me. Tell me truthfully, who are you working with? Are you really trying to bring peace to the Goa'uld worlds or are you just another tin-plated despot with delusions of godhood?"
Ba'al smiled slyly and plopped down on his throne, arms hanging loosely over the sides. "The threat of Anubis is more grave than the Tok'ra or Tau'ri comprehend. His rule over the galaxy would bring destruction to all our people – genocide, I believe, is the appropriate Tau'ri word. Anubis once had great power, but that power brought about a greater downfall. Now he has returned, and Our intelligence informs Us that the power he now – or soon will – wield far surpasses that of the combined strength of the System Lords. We will be cast aside as leaves blown by the winter winds. Should that happen, my dear Daniel, there would be no one to stand in his way and protect Our young or the human populations of Our worlds. Your world will fall, Daniel. Would you see your people slaved, slaughtered, subjugated? However distasteful to you, the truth is the only thing that protects Earth at this moment is your treaty with the System Lords. Remove the System Lords, and how long do you think your weapons and armies will hold back the might of an attacking Ha'tak fleet?"
Daniel pursed his lips to hold back the answer Ba'al already knew. It was why he had stayed his hand at the Summit. Earth had no hope against a rogue Goa'uld who refused to acknowledge the treaty. "And rule under you would be so much better?" he sniped.
"You have seen for yourself how the people of Our city fare. Do they hunger? Do they suffer unjust punishments? Do they cower in fear at Our approach? No. We are not Apophis, Daniel. Nor are We Ra. You must set aside your notions that their ways are Our ways. We work for the survival of all souls, Daniel.
"I'm sorry, but what about the millions you killed on those two planets you destroyed. Don't they count in your grand scheme of benevolence?"
"Your intellect does you great service, Daniel. We must admit to those atrocities, but in their execution We found the beginnings of Our determination to change not only Our ways but those of all System Lords. We were so focused on the defeat of Sokar, the lives of those living on his planets were of no consequence to Us, until after the deed when We saw with Our own eyes the enormity of the devastation wrought by Our hand. It was wrong, Daniel. We cannot bring the dead back to life, but We can prevent a recurrence of such loss in the future. We mean to atone for Our errors. Please believe Us."
Belief. It came back to that then. Believe a Goa'uld, his mortal enemy. The same as all the others he had dedicated the last five years of his life to fighting against.
"You said you were working with two others. Who are they? At least tell me their names. Show me some kind of faith on your part."
Ba'al considered him carefully, head cocked to one side. "Very well. We can reveal the name of one of our allies. The other… We regret We are unable to give you their identity at this moment. But, the one, yes. It is someone known to you, Daniel. Regrettably their name may resurrect painful memories for you."
Daniel's heart caught between one beat and the next. For an eternal second he knew the name was Amonet. That somehow she had survived, that Sha're had survived. That she was out there waiting for him. Why else was Ba'al searching his mind for her memories? He felt the blood drain from his face. His knees wobbled and he sat down hard on the cushions scattered on the floor by the table. Ba'al was staring at him, saying something he couldn't hear over the pounding of his pulse in his ears. That little voice of reason that always poked its head up at inconvenient times was telling him it couldn't be; he'd held her still body in his arms, seen Jack carry her back through the Stargate even as Teal'c carried him, buried her in the cold sands of home. But the spark he'd thought extinguished forever reignited in an illogical flicker of hope. His starving lungs pulled in a gasp of air and Ba'al's voice penetrated the fog in his brain.
"Are you well, Daniel?"
He nodded, almost dreading the answer. "Tell me."
Ba'al peered quizzically at him, then shrugged. "When Anubis's plans were made known to the System Lords at the recent Summit, it appeared obvious to all those present that his plans would be implemented with minimal opposition. He was not, however, aware of the… connection, shall we say, between his emissary and Ourselves. We had sought out Our old ally, and found him agreeable to renewing Our association. He finds Anubis's plans as repugnant as We do. And it was he, in fact, who suggested you as Our envoy to the Tau'ri." Ba'al regarded him intently, watching the expressions Daniel could feel shifting across his face as his words sank in.
"Osiris." Was it relief he felt at knowing Amonet truly was dead, or just numb acceptance that his wife was never going to be returned to him?
"We are aware that Osiris took one of your acquaintance as his new host," Ba'al said softly.
"Jackson's Curse," he whispered, memory flashing vividly on the one time he'd asked someone at the SGC on a date. Sophie Patterson in the anthro department. She'd been flattered but sweetly declined. A few days later he'd overheard her quietly telling a friend how she'd regretted turning him down. The friend had sympathised that avoiding Jackson's Curse had been a wise thing to do. "Sarah." He avoided Ba'al's eye as his memories shifted to the last time he'd seen her: elegant body dressed in gold, eyes flashing, knife at his throat. He shook his head, trying to clear it of the vivid images. Ba'al's poking around in his head must have sharpened his recall considerably.
"You and Osiris. So she—he's doublecrossing Anubis? Is Zippy the third one?" Somehow he doubted Carmen Miranda had power enough of his own to attract Ba'al to him. Ba'al's lips twitched and confirmed that the identity of the third partner was still concealed. "You think just three of you can take on Anubis and win? And you plan to use whatever you dig out of my brain to help. Boy, are you in for a surprise." He sighed and turned his attention to the food on the table. His head was spinning from hunger, blood-loss and exhaustion. His stomach turned at the thought of food, but survival instinct made him reach out and select a flatbread topped with tomatoes and nuts. He chewed slowly, his back to Ba'al. Silence settled over them. Daniel fixed his eyes on a few stray motes of dust drifting in the air, backlit by the light coming from the balcony. Surf pounded below in a dull roar, and behind that he caught the first rumble of thunder. He shivered, suddenly realising he was only wearing the long kilt Astarte's women had provided. Astarte…. There was a whole new problem to face in the morning.
A light hand on his shoulder made him jump and come back from the fuzzy, drifting state he'd apparently slipped into. His hands were empty, the bread consumed mechanically.
"It is time to return to your quarters, Daniel," said Ba'al.
Was that concern in his voice? Daniel dismissed the notion. His hands clenched and he remained sitting. "No."
The hand patted his shoulder, then withdrew. "Yes."
There was that same whisper of metal and the brief impression of something wrapping up around him, then he was back in his suite, sitting on the end of the bed. He barely had time to register that the balcony arches were now sealed before the familiar scent of flowers invaded his nose and he fell back, sound asleep.
He was running, through grey hallways, cold stone tunnels burrowed through the belly of the mountain. There was a visitor standing in the Gate room, dusty robes and a smile of recognition immediately swamping him in longing for desert heat and a simple life that had been cruelly ripped from him. "Danyel!" Peyah. Skaara's friend, and his. Peyah knew all the best places to find the sweet fruit of the sunra plants. He looked so out of place amidst the concrete and guns. It could only be bad news. The dear smile of welcome turned solemn. "Kasuf and many of the people have been taken. The demons have returned…."
Daniel gasped and pushed himself up out of the memory. He was back in the basement room, dim lighting gleamed through the birds tangled over his head. No, not birds – he squinted and recognised the twisted metal hood, the one that took his memories.
"The patient is awake, my Lord," a voice floated out of the darkness.
Someone nearby shifted. An arm reached out and caressed his chest. "Sleep, my dear. All is well. Just sleep…."
"No. Stop…." The scent of flowers caught his words and drowned them in honey. He was falling and flying at the same time. Despair caught him up and took him away.
…the storeroom was silent, faint sounds of Jaffa passing made him freeze, time and again. He never heard the one who opened the door. He did hear the gasp as alternate-Teal'c was discovered, so very dead. The man's eyes met his. No hope for escape, he raised his hands, the mirror controller hidden in a bucket behind him. More warriors filled the room, rough grasps pulled him here and there, his clothing and body was searched, questions shouted in his face that he could not – would not – answer. His hands were bound, and he was shoved violently to his knees. The dead eyes of Teal'c stared accusingly at him. The blow to his cheek was pure spite – perfectly aimed to not even displace his glasses. Seven of them crowded around him, the door swung shut; the attempt to call out a warning to his team was halted by another blow and the zats and staffs hovering by his face. Footsteps approached…
How long had he been here? He felt he'd been buried in this dim room, bound for days, weeks even to the machine that spun his life history out before his and other's eyes. Some days he lay awake watching missions with his team or snatches of sweet personal moments that filled the times between discovery and heart-stopping terror. Everything was blurring, twisting into some grotesque mess that he barely recognised. Teal'c's face swam before him. He grabbed on to the strength his friend offered so readily, so generously. Silent resolve buoyed him and held him as he floated away from the restrained body on the reclinare, and he drifted into his past.
… the peace of Teal'c's quarters grounded him. In the dim candlelight he felt more solid, more real than he had since waking to find himself alone in the cavernous pyramid. He tried to reach out to his friend, but his hand passed through solid muscle. Nothing to do but sing, now. Row, row, row your boat…
Days were passing without notice. Life was a blurred mix of nights filled with dreams and days spent wandering the streets of Tsydon, trying his best to find a way out of the city or a person who would help him. Yet, always he ended up coming face-to-face with Astarte. At every unexpected turn she was there, waiting for him in whatever obscure alley, field or shop that he could find. Then she was unshakeable, clinging to him every moment, much to the delight of the city folk. Inevitably they would find their way back to her temple. Try as he might to distract her with questions about the people's worship of her, the temples, the stories she had accumulated over thousands of years as goddess – always her words would be only of love, for Eshmun, for Ba'al, for Daniel, and as time moved inexorably on, her ability to distinguish between the three of them was deteriorating noticeably. He would fend off her amorous touches, beg for another tale, and search desperately for a back way out of the temple or a path that would lead up and over the hill toward the spaceport. Each day she clung just that little bit closer, longer and when Ba'al appeared, as he did as surely as the sun set, Daniel was beginning to experience a warped sense of relief. Even the certain promise of a nightlong interrogation was looking to be safer than spending too much time in the grip of a goddess on the brink of sanity.
Ba'al however, was becoming less hospitable. Daniel was beginning to suspect that the Goa'uld had expected to find what he was looking for with relative ease. Yet, night after night they went through the elaborate charade of concern and understanding, choked down over a dinner of ashes, followed by a nightcap of drug-filled air. They had passed on from the memories of Sha're's death, bringing truth to Ba'al's claim of disinterest over the fate of Shifu or any lingering intelligence Daniel may hold from Amonet.
… the white room. He was back in the white room. He tried and tried but always he ended up back in the white room, surrounded by footsteps. Coming closer… just out of sight… coming… She smiled. Her fingers raked through his hair, tangling, pulling painfully, demanding answers he couldn't remember giving. His skin was warm now, wrapped in something soft, not naked and cold. He couldn't tear his eyes away from hers. Heard the first snip. Felt the first lock fall past his fingers to the floor…
Finally – somehow – the path of his memories resembled the timeline in which the events had occurred. Ba'al laughed himself into a coughing fit over the ignominious death of Seth, an event he had celebrated the following day with a lavish lunch attended by all the Court and Astarte. Even the priests from the temples had been invited. The good mood had lasted several days, but slowly impatience rose and Ba'al's temper slid to dangerous levels. Several times in the early mornings as he escaped the citadel or late in the evening when he was dragged back, Daniel was witness to whispered conversations between the Goa'uld and his underlings, the results of which clearly displeased Ba'al.
There were comings and goings too: Jaffa and Goa'uld were escorted by the Rephaim to the wing of the citadel where Ba'al conducted his business. One evening, as another summer storm raged overhead, rain pounding the force shields across the open windows, Elsh interrupted their dinner. Bowing apologetically, he quietly delivered his news to Ba'al and managed to sidle out of reach when Ba'al's reaction sent the heavy serving dish through the air.
"He will not wait?"
"Forgive, my Lord, he will not. He was insistent. The business must be concluded or he will take everything and, well, he insinuated that if you are not present, the name of Ba'al will become a mockery to all Goa'uld."
Daniel admired the way Elsh got himself out of reach as Ba'al's eyes flashed – something he couldn't remember seeing once yet on Tsydon. Ba'al pulled himself together and smiled apologetically at Daniel. He stared thoughtfully at him for several minutes, then sighed.
"Very well. Inform His Exalted Lordship that We shall fulfil our obligations. We will arrive in three days."
Elsh bowed so deeply his hair brushed the floor, and backed out of the room with aplomb.
"Going somewhere?" Daniel asked mildly, more than a little curious to see the Goa'uld so unsettled.
"Alas, the duties of a System Lord are unrelenting. We must see to Our obligations with Lord Yu and he will not be delayed. We had hoped that Our business with Our honoured guest would have been concluded by now, but as it is not…." The speculative frown on Ba'al's face did nothing to make Daniel feel easy.
"Yu, huh? Well, have a nice trip. I'm sure I'll still be here when you get back." With Ba'al out of the way for a few days perhaps he'd have a better chance of getting the hell out of here. A niggling voice inside added that a respite from Ba'al's machine could only be good. He wasn't going to admit to himself just how concerned he was that the constant messing with his head was going to see him back in that white room – permanently.
"I'm sure," echoed Ba'al. "We are certain that Our Lady Astarte will be overjoyed to take you into Her care for the days – and nights – that We are absent."
He couldn't help it. His face paled at the thought. The last few days, it was all he could do to fend off her blatant attempts to get him into her bed. If he had to stay in the temple day and night… Hathor's face flashed in front of his eyes and his stomach roiled. He cursed Ba'al's machine and its ability to dig out every single disgusting and hurtful memory he had, and he dreaded Ba'al's reaction when – if – he got a ringside seat to the way Hathor had used him. His discomfort was obvious, and Ba'al smirked at him. Daniel scowled. "Give my regards to old Yu, won't you? Oh, ask him how the stomach is now. Osiris got him pretty good with that knife."
Ba'al tipped his head back and laughed, long and heartily. "Ah, yes. Osiris has told Us of your deception at the Summit. We are quite impressed that you nearly managed to make off with him and his host. We believe he has not shared that information with Lord Yu. However, just to be… safe, We think it will be best to conceal your identity from him."
"Wha… what? You're taking me to see Yu?" Daniel blanched, thoughts zipping through his head at speed. Even if Osiris had not told Yu about his servant's real identity, he would still surely be recognised from the peace treaty talks on Earth a couple of years ago. Although, he had yelled out, 'Sarah, it's me – Daniel!' in Yu's presence. It wouldn't take much to piece things together. "He'll kill me."
"We shall not permit that." Ba'al's smugness filled the entire dining room.
"But… look, just leave me here. I'll be fine. You can do your business and then come back," he offered lamely. And then you can resume rummaging in my head. Great.
Ba'al steepled his fingers together and gave it some thought, his eyes keenly tracking the emotions Daniel could feel flitting across his face. "No. We do not believe it to be in Our best interests to leave you here unchaperoned. Our Love has many virtues but self-denial is not one of them. We tremble with trepidation at the thought of you left here, unprotected." He smiled beatifically, rose and headed for the door, bellowing for Elsh and Kosharta as he went.
Daniel watched him go, his spirits sinking rapidly. "Caught between the devil and the devil… and the devil. Super."
Astarte was not happy. Daniel got that from the wailing, hair-pulling, flesh-rending full-out hissy fit she was pitching in Ba'al's throne room. He hung back in the shadows wondering – if he made a break for the balcony – whether he could swim to shore without being ground up on the rocks around the citadel. It took quite some time for Ba'al to calm his queen and even then it was only when he leaned in and whispered at length in her ear. Daniel really didn't like the way her eyes darted to him and unblinkingly pinned him. Nor did he like the slow, longing smile that spread across her face – kind of like a lioness that's been promised a particularly juicy deer to play with.
Mollified, Astarte subsided into complacency, allowed Ba'al to fuss over her and kiss her farewell. She took her leave. Her attendants fell into line behind her, and she swept up the centre of the throne room, the moonlight that streaked in through the stained glass windows painting her in a kaleidoscope of colour. Daniel pressed back against a pillar bearing a statue above his head: probably Ba'al in one of his glorious conquest poses. He wondered if she possessed a dress that actually covered both breasts at the same time, but it didn't seem likely.
Stop being such a guy. He chided himself in a voice that sounded eerily like Sam's, and yanked his gaze off the Goa'uld's bare, jiggling breast. Oh, jeez, here we go.
Astarte drifted to a halt a good three inches away from him. She ran her hand up his neck, cupped his cheek and pulled his face to hers. He stubbornly kept his mouth closed but that didn't deter the open wet kisses she plastered over him.
"We bid farewell to Our love," she murmured in his ear. "May your journey be safe from evil and your return to Our side as swift as the swallows on the morning breeze." She sealed the sentiment with more kisses.
He pulled back with an effort and babbled, "Yep, greatthanksbye!"
She left him with a smile horribly reminiscent of the one Osiris had given him in Yu's quarters on the space station. He shuddered, and as he watched her depart he began to seriously consider throwing himself on Yu's mercy. Oh, boy.
The night before their departure, as servants scuttled to and fro all over the citadel on panicked errands, and Consorts and minor Goa'uld bustled past with a distracted air, Daniel was escorted back to his rooms by his guard. As had become the norm he paused before the open doorway, dreading the last step that would take him within range of the drug filled air. The last few nights his dreams and memories had become increasingly tangled, losing their meaning and serving to undermine his confidence in his own sanity. He scowled, annoyed with himself for letting his fear show. A quick glance at Tannin, in charge of his guard tonight, and he was surprised by the sympathetic expression on her face. Obviously they knew – to some degree – what went on during the night. He blushed, feeling humiliated at allowing himself to be used in this way. Tannin gave him an encouraging nod. Daniel lunged into the room, not wanting anyone's sympathy anymore. Whatever the guard may feel about his situation, they would never be in a situation to – or possibly even care to – help him.
Lined up by the door were two polished wooden trunks, prettily embellished with marquetry. He opened the first and found a dazzlingly collection of clothing, none of which he'd previously worn. Looks like I'll get to make an impression on old Yu. Letting the lid drop with a thud, he sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face and through his hair. For an age he stared blankly at the flames flickering behind coloured glass lanterns that hung over the darkened windows before he realised he wasn't falling asleep. That's odd. Daniel straightened and walked cautiously around the room, testing the air. Nothing. The air was clean, and the absence of the drug made him more nervous than its presence had.
He sat down. Then got up again. Wandered into the bathing room and back out. Went to change out of the sarong he'd worn all day, then retied it. Sat on the bed, then nearly leapt up off it again, as if his presence on its silky covers could trigger the drug. Nothing. He walked back to the bathing room, peed, washed, cleaned his teeth, and stared at his face for way too long in the mirror. Even more unsettled by the shadows under his eyes and the way his cheekbones seemed more prominent than usual, he turned away and began a restless prowl around his suite. He was tired; the more he paced the more he wanted to sink down into the bed and sleep, but his body wouldn't let him – as if the act of sleep was a sign to Ba'al that he was giving in, just accepting whatever the Goa'uld wanted to do with him. His mind spun with half-remembered images of Hathor, Seth, missions mixed wrongly together and half-baked imaginings of what Yu would do to him if Ba'al chose to let slip his identity.
"Argh! Stop, just stop…." He was driving himself crazy. He stumbled to a halt by the force-shielded windows, more than a little dizzy from circling in one direction. "Just stop," he whispered tiredly.
A knock at the door suspended his thoughts from falling down that black well of despair. "What? Who is it?"
He stared at the main doors and nearly jumped out of his skin when a hidden door opened in the wall. That's where they take me each night. "Who are you?" he growled when two men walked meekly into the room and politely bowed to him.
"Adon. We are servants of our Lord. We bid you come with us," one said. His voice was familiar – these were the two who carted his un- or semi-conscious body down to the interrogation room each night.
"Why?"
They shared a perplexed look. "Our Lord requires your presence, Adon," the other replied in a tone reserved for the slow-witted.
"Why am I still awake?"
"That is not for us to say, Adon. We are charged to escort you, that is all we know."
"And if I refuse to go?"
They both smiled somewhat patronisingly. "We will escort you to our Lord, Adon."
Daniel glared at them, his nerves churning with uncertainty. Was this just a ploy of Ba'al's to make Daniel complicit in his own torture or was something else afoot? The routine of druggings was gone and he felt adrift without it. He stubbornly stayed where he was until the two moved to his sides, gently but firmly took hold of his arms and led him into the hidden passageway.
It had always seemed like such a long distance, lying on his back, spaced out on the drugs, counting the lighting fixtures as they passed overhead. In reality it was only fifty feet to the transporter, then barely any distance to the door of The Room. He hung back against their grip but they got him into that dimly lit, wood-panelled room without too much loss of dignity. They let him go and he lost track of them then, his attention captured by the reclinare, gleaming underneath the filigree hood. His stomach clenched and he backed away before he realised he was moving. A tall, warm body impeded his progress and he spun, knowing of course that it would be him.
"What's going on?" he blurted, cursing his nerves. "Thought you had to have me drugged before you could steal my memories."
Ba'al's small smile told him he wasn't fooled by the bravado. "Alas, Daniel, We have a problem."
"Really? Can't say I care, actually."
"Ah, but you should care, Daniel. Our problem is your problem. Our scientists," he gestured at a woman and man Daniel hadn't even seen, standing behind a bank of control terminals. "Our scientists advise Us that there are significant signs of scarring along your neural pathways. This scarring is preventing the reclinare from achieving an efficient scan of the memories we seek. Now, what can you tell Us about this scarring?"
Ba'al's words faded into the background as Daniel fixed on that word – scarring. His brain, his brain, was scarred. Oh, god. Hardly a surprise really, the number of times he'd been zapped with one thing or the other. If it wasn't Machello's little buddies, it was Nem rooting through his brain. He kept backing away from Ba'al, shaking his head in denial, inwardly trying not to curl into a corner and start gibbering about footsteps all over again.
"Daniel!" Ba'al had him by the arms and shook him. He came back to the present with an only slightly hysterical giggle.
"Guess you've got damaged goods, Ba'al. I'd ask for a refund if I were you."
"What do you mean?" Was it his imagination, or did Ba'al actually sound sympathetic?
Another little titter escaped him as he looked at Ba'al's handsome face. "You think you're the only one to mess with my head? Boy, where have you been? It's an occupational hazard for galactic explorers, didn't you know?"
"Tell Us, Daniel. Please."
Daniel yanked his arm out of Ba'al's grip and began to pace again, walking around the hated chair with carefully measured steps. "Let's see… where to begin. Well, there was Nem, drilling through my head in search of his wife; Machello's little buggers which sent me completely insane – wouldn't recommend that, you know; the Gamekeeper who kept us remembering just the best years of our lives, over and over and over; Hathor telling us we'd been asleep for decades – then rooting through my memories like she was at the library. So did the Tok'ra for that matter. Oh, of course Osiris tried to fry my brain with that hand thingy – and that's a joy that just never gets better no matter how many times you do it. I had my mind and entire body duplicated, my personality sucked into an old guy's body, got tortured with the Blood of Sokar, and had a little man in my head for a while. He was kind of fun, really, specially the singing part. Got brainwashed and imprinted with a whole new personality, was addicted to a Goa'uld pleasure palace, and had an ascended being implant a possible future where I could have given one of your lot a run for their money in the Evil Overlord category. I don't know… what do you think Ba'al? Any of that likely to make an impact on a guy's brain? Of course let's not forget the multiple hits with a zat, numerous other alien things that make you forget where you live at the end of the day. And I've been nishta'ed by some of the best. Take your pick." He jerked to a halt two feet in front of Ba'al's astonished face, spread his legs so his knees wouldn't buckle, and wrapped his arms around his chest to hide the shaking in his hands.
"My. You have led a busy life, Daniel."
Careful, Dannyboy. Get a hold of yourself. Shouldn't have said all that. Don't show weakness, Jack always says. Be tough, be dumb, but don't be vulnerable or they'll be on you like wolves.
Shuffling behind him brought his attention back to Ba'al. He held his place, mentally tracking Ba'al as he moved to the console and conversed with the technicians.
The shaking in his hands wasn't subsiding, rather it was spreading to his knees and insides – fine tremors threatening to undo him completely. Maybe I'm already… nuts. Just didn't realise.
Warm fingers touched his shoulder and he flinched away, spun around, hands arcing out in attack, a hair's breadth from striking Ba'al's eyes before steely hands wrapped around his wrists. Ba'al forced Daniel's arms behind his back, pushed up until his wrists were between his shoulder blades.
"Let go of me," Daniel snarled.
Ba'al still had a look of curiosity on his face. Silent, he studied Daniel for a few moments, then leant into him, their chests pressed together. Ba'al continued to press Daniel backwards.
"Get off me, dammit." Daniel tried to struggle but being bent back without the use of his arms, it was impossible to gain any kind of leverage. Or breathe. He sucked in a gasp as Ba'al twisted and let him drop. Daniel fell – and then was pulled. The gravity field of the reclinare grabbed him and he was plastered to it, hands scrabbling uselessly, leaving him to glare up at Ba'al. Two shadowy figures appeared on either side and had the restraints fastened before he could protest. The chair dipped and he floated up to meet the descending metal hood. It eased into position over his face.
Silence gathered thickly around him. Daniel's breathing echoed off the hood and the sound only increased his fear. He wasn't drugged this time and he knew Ba'al intended to scan him fully awake. This is going to hurt. Like Nem….
"Ba'al." Crap, beg if you have to. "Please. Not like this." His gut constricted and his chest felt tight. "At least put me under." The gravity field pressed him tight, not allowing even his hands to clench.
Silence.
Ba'al walked slowly around the reclinare, appearing and disappearing in Daniel's vision like a slow-motion strobe. He concentrated on his breathing, trying to control the fear that was starting to creep out of the shadows of his mind. Fear of Ba'al's intentions, fear of what damage his brain had suffered over the past few years, fear of being unable to resist or fight back; they all joined forces and threatened to destroy what composure he still clung to.
"Show me the scans." Ba'al halted behind Daniel. The big screen used previously to display Daniel's memories flickered to life with a 3D image of a brain.
Hello.
The image zoomed in past organic bits he didn't want to know the name of, to focus on hair-thin strands of… something. He bit back the questions that automatically rose.
"Here, my Lord. Here and along here." The technician used a light pointer to indicate the barely visible build-up of pink layered over the strands. "The pattern of scarring indicates it occurred from multiple applications."
Short and sweet. Sam could learn a thing or two from her. Daniel dragged his attention back. Multiple applications? What the hell?
"A weapon of some kind?" Ba'al asked quietly.
"No, my Lord. There is no indication of damage. Rather, this looks like a preventative or healing application."
Healing? Multiple…. Oh, god, no. Shit, shit, shit. Daniel knew exactly what had caused this scarring. Just as he had always known it would come back one day and bite him in the ass.
"Would this be the result of one of your exploits, Daniel?"
"Nope. No idea, no clue, not a one…."
Despite his best efforts to stay calm, Daniel could feel his control weakening. He bit his tongue to halt any further babblings.
"Can We continue?" Ba'al asked the technician.
"No, my Lord. The patterns of scarring are quite intricate and are blocking any further coherent retrieval. They will have to be removed for us to return to our search."
Removed? "No," Daniel ground out. His muscles flexed and strained against the gravity chair's grip.
Ba'al's hand settled gently over his heart, patting his bare skin in a show of comfort. "Be at ease, Daniel. Our methods of healing are quite painless, We assure you." He left his hand on Daniel's chest, brushed over his skin as if petting a fractious animal.
A horrible, embarrassing gurgle escaped his lips as Daniel found his other fears completely swamped by the terror riding at the front of a wave of desperate craving. Can't face that again, not alone, not here in front of him. Someone help me…. His senses swam. Ba'al's voice receded down a tunnel of confusion, giving instructions for closer scans, and Daniel fell eagerly into darkness.
Next morning the citadel was in a carefully controlled uproar. Daniel had been dragged out of bed and into the bath before he'd really woken, and pulled under the dryers just as rapidly. He'd been on the verge of nodding off when a firm hand wrapped around his arm and led him back to the suite.
He peered at the blur in front of him, finally recognising Kosharta. She was staring at him expectantly. "What?" he mumbled.
"Dress! You must dress, boy. Now."
"Oh. Uh…." Her blurry outline was making his eyes hurt. He fumbled on the side table, snagged his glasses and pushed them on. "Huh. You're grumpy this morning."
She gaped at him in exasperation. "You consider that as being dressed? Our Lord will not be amused. Here." She started pulling clothes onto his limbs and he let her, too befuddled to wonder about anything. All too quickly, he was ready, dressed in rich purple pants and vest, the damask material moulded tight to his body. Boots in the same colour finished the ensemble off.
Kosharta handed Daniel a tumbler of sweet fruit juice, which he swallowed down gratefully. His head cleared, leaving room to remember the previous night's events – and today's agenda. The clothing trunks were gone. They were off to see Lord Yu. Swell.
The doors to his suite stood open, Kosharta impatiently glaring at him. He squared his shoulders and walked out. His guard immediately surrounded him and escorted him through the busy halls, down the sweeping staircase to the grand entrance hall. The entire Court milled around, chattering excitedly. When they saw Daniel they flocked to him.
"Adon! You are travelling with our Lord!" Arsay squealed, her eyes shining with envy.
"It is such an honour to accompany our Lord off-world," said Nikkal.
"Hardly any of us have been off-world," added Pidray.
"Apart from Prize and Mavet," Yarikh said.
"Anath went with our Lord and Lady to the Radmanu fest, do you not remember?" Tallay chimed in. "They brought us such glorious gifts!"
"Oh, Adon, will you bring us gifts?" Pidray was bouncing with excitement.
"You must take note of everything and tell us when you return." Helel hugged his younger Companion and smiled at Daniel.
"Yes – we have to know what Lord Yu's courtiers are wearing!"
"And how they style their hair!"
"And what the Palace is like!"
"What they eat – and their music! You must tell us everything, Adon!"
A deep voice laughed, breaking through the chatter. The Court pulled back from Daniel, allowing Ba'al to stride into their midst, bestowing lavish farewell kisses on each Concubine and Courtesan. Daniel watched him murmur a little something with each kiss, leaving his lovers smiling shyly and glowing with joy from the private words.
Done, he stood before Daniel, the familiar smirk on his face. "We must depart, dear Daniel." He took Daniel's shoulder and steered him away towards a large round alcove halfway down the grand hall.
With Daniel in position at his side, Ba'al waved gaily at his family. Daniel followed suite with a brief wave and a barely heard "Bye". The Court waved hands and scarves, and was lost to sight as a set of transport rings shot down and swept Daniel and his host away.
The rings deposited them amid the unmistakable walls of a Goa'uld Ha'tak ship. Lacking only the open-flame braziers of Apophis's ships, this one seemed the same as all the others Daniel had found himself on over the years. Guards snapped to attention – not the legging-clad Rephaim of the citadel's guard – these were clearly Jaffa, all wearing the traditional armour, and bearing staffs and zats. Ba'al's sunny disposition disappeared with the receding rings. He ignored the saluting guards, snapped a quick order to one who stepped forward, and without a glance at Daniel, marched out of the room.
The Jaffa scowled at Daniel. "You will come. This way." He spun on his heel and stomped out of the room.
Daniel blinked. The sudden absence of the respectful courtesy he'd been shown on Tsydon was disconcerting. He slowly trailed after the Jaffa, others falling in closely around him. They traversed corridor after corridor, and the shadowed gold hieroglyph-covered walls helped to shift Daniel's whole mindset – away from bright, friendly Tsydon where deception lurked behind a friendly smile – to one that was much more familiar: the cold, alien environment of the Goa'uld, armour and weapons making it plain who the enemy was. Disturbingly, it was somehow comforting.
He was taken to a small room and left there alone. After frowning at the closed door he tried the bent snake symbol on the wall: locked. A few minutes poking along the walls revealed a small toilet and shower room. Beside the bed in the room there was nothing else.
He plopped down on the bed.
Stared at the door.
Stared at the floor.
Stared at the walls.
"I'll just wait here, then, shall I?"
In response the universe juddered sideways and sent him sprawling on the bed. That was all too familiar – entering hyperspace. Daniel rolled onto his back and glared at the ceiling.
"Okay."
He slept, for a long time judging by the dryness in his mouth when he woke. Sometime during his sleep someone had entered and set up a small table with a tray of food and a pitcher of water on it. Daniel drained half the water in one go, then lifted the covered dish lid. A 'stew' of some kind steamed pleasantly inside. His stomach growled, so he tucked in. The hot meal and accompanying flat bread vanished in short order.
A visit to the facilities, then he was back in the room, contemplating his options. Paced the room. Ran through some exercises so his body was honed and ready for what was to come. Worried about what Ba'al planned for him. Worried about what might happen if Yu discovered his identity. Worried about how his team was coping without him – were they still looking for him or were they back on the mission roster, going off-world without him? Who was taking care of his fish? He suddenly remembered Merrie Stern, the woman who had found some of his father's journals amongst her grandfather's estate. He'd promised to collect the journals from her on the way home from New York.
"Damn."
Something inside his chest gave a pang at the thought of reading his father's words, discovering a part of his parents' lives he'd not previously known.
"Don't go there," he muttered to himself.
The heavy gold walls seemed to lean in, enclosing him in a cocoon and shutting him away from the life he yearned to return to.
Daniel shut his eyes, crawled back under the covers and sought solace in sleep.
For two days, give or take, Daniel's life narrowed to sleeping, eating, stretches and exercises, and fruitless and annoying speculation.
Then, on one awakening Elsh was there, standing by the bed with that odd look of distrustful respect on his face that he reserved for Daniel.
"Hello."
Elsh nodded. "I am to assist you, Daniel. Our Lord's fleet will arrive at His destination in an hour."
"Fleet?" Daniel blinked the sleep out of his eyes.
"Of course. You do not think Lord Ba'al would enter the territory of another System Lord without the support of his fleet?" Elsh flung the bed covers back before Daniel could muster a reply. "Why did you sleep in your clothes? Never mind. You must wash while I lay out the clothing Lord Ba'al wishes you to wear." He steered Daniel to the shower and set it running, leaving Daniel to slowly peel off his rumpled pants.
"Uh, speaking of his lordship, where is Ba'al? And why have I been locked up here in solitary like this?" He stepped under the warm rain of water and sighed with pleasure.
"It is not for the likes of me to question anything our Lord does," Elsh called from the bedroom. His tone implied it wasn't Daniel's place to question Ba'al either.
"Right." Daniel scrubbed scented gel into his hair and ducked under the water. He stayed there until it abruptly cut off and was replaced by warm air blowing him dry. He cracked open one eye and caught a glimpse of Elsh disappearing into the room beyond.
Finally dry, he returned to the bedroom. A garment of indeterminate description lay on the bed, so darkly purple it was closer to black. "What's that?"
"It is what our Lord wishes you to wear," Elsh replied. "But first I will fasten this." He knelt in front of Daniel and swiftly wrapped a cold metal chain around his left calf. A familiar diamond tinkle filled the air.
"Uh, no, hang on a minute. I'm not wearing that." Daniel cringed at the thought of chiming his way through Yu's palace with Astarte's present.
"Our Lord wishes you to, Daniel," Elsh repeated. He stood, picked up the garment, helped Daniel into it, and fastened the low waistband, which sat just above his hips.
"Uh, that's it?" Daniel frowned, looking down at himself. Arms bare, most of his chest bare in a sweeping low v-neck that gaped below his bellybutton, a graduated kilt that fell in layers to his feet and was split from mid-thigh to the floor.
"No, there is one more piece." Elsh reached up and draped a head cloth over his hair, settling it in place with a band of shimmering drop diamonds over his brow. The diamonds hung down over his eyes in a glittering curtain. Elsh drew an end of the cloth over Daniel's mouth and nose, and secured it to the other side, creating a veil over most of his face and neck.
Daniel felt his anxiety return full-force. "This is going to fool Yu? No, you know what? Just tell Ba'al I'll wait here till he's done."
Elsh gave him a strange look and turned his back on Daniel. "Is the Adon dressed as you wish, my Lord?"
"What?" Daniel looked up from the shimmering material draped over his body, and started when a shadow detached from the corner by the door.
Ba'al prowled into the light and stood gazing at Daniel, running his gaze up and down the robed body. "Perfect. We have just a couple more adornments for Our guest."
"How long have you been standing there?" Daniel scowled at Ba'al. "You might give a person some privacy, you know."
Ba'al's eyes twinkled with amusement, then sobered. He nodded to Elsh who produced two thin silver bands and proceeded to secure them around Daniel's wrists.
"Ba'al, I don't think me going to Yu's palace is such a great idea. He's gonna recognise me. I should stay here – not get in the way."
"Nonsense. We can hardly present Ourselves at Yu's Court with an incomplete retinue. He will mock Us. You would not want that now, would you, Daniel?"
"Mock? No. Well… no. I guess. I just…."
"Here. We gift Our Companion with Our symbol. Ba'al stepped close and attached two gold chains to either side of the material running down Daniel's chest. Between them, hanging over his heart, lay a gold filigree working of Ba'al's horned emblem.
Daniel felt a cold dread sweep over him. "Why?"
"This simple emblem symbolises Our ownership of you – an unbranded human."
"Ah, excuse me? Ownership?" Daniel baulked at the word.
"All courtiers, servants, warriors, must have their allegiance marked plainly when in company of other System lords, otherwise the unmarked are free to be taken by whomever sees them. Did you not wonder why our Jaffa are thus branded?"
Daniel realised with a shock that he'd never explored the full meaning of the brands with Teal'c. He looked at Elsh and saw he too wore Ba'al's emblem – less intricate than his own but effective none the less. "Look… no. I'm sorry, but I'm not parading round Yu's palace with your… brand on me." His thoughts were tangling over his lack of observation and dread at the coming day's events.
"I'm not going," he said flatly, backing away from Ba'al as much as the small room would allow.
Ba'al sighed. He cocked his head to one side and studied Daniel for some time. He advanced slowly, stopping a mere inch away. They were the same height – Daniel and Ba'al's host. Their eyes met in challenge and as Daniel's body prepared for a fight, Ba'al smiled and sighed again. Only this time the warm breath that escaped his lips was tinged in pink and it smelled… god, no… it smelled like her.
"N—mmph…" Daniel jerked his head to one side, but with cobra-like speed Ba'al's hands darted up and clamped onto his face, holding him still as the soul-stealing Nishta flooded into his body.
Daniel screwed his face up and tried not to breathe but of course that didn't last long, and it made no difference. The drug seeped into his skin. He struggled, tried to force Ba'al's hands away, to wriggle out of his grip, and run as far and fast as he could to hide in a dark corner. But Ba'al held him fast, leaning his body into Daniel, pressing him against the patterned wall so hard he could feel the symbols imprinting into his back. Another dose, then another….
His fingers felt fat and uncoordinated. He lost his grip on Ba'al's sleeve and sagged back. Ba'al smirked at him – an expression Daniel now hated with a passion. He glared at the Goa'uld, sent every ounce of hate and fury that his hijacked body could not express. God. He hated this: the way his thoughts whirled but his body refused to respond to his commands; the way his skin tingled in anticipation of a word, a look, a touch from the one who held him in thrall; the way his body would move only at the command of his captor.
But he could fight this, had fought it to a degree. He'd kept Hathor at bay for some time… until she'd dosed him so thoroughly he could only lay pliant and responsive under her hands. He shuddered and blurted out, "Not supposed… immune now…." His forehead creased as he remembered Hathor's taunts, standing on the mocked-up Gate ramp. "Immune," he ground out in defiance of the obvious.
Ba'al's eyebrows rose and he moved back a step. "Immune? To the breath of the Gods?" He laughed. "Why, Daniel, whoever told you that? Do you really think we would have developed the Breath of the Gods if a favoured plaything became immune after one exposure? You of all people should realise We are nothing if not opportunistic. We would never fail to take advantage of a substance that gives Us all such… pleasure."
Daniel shook his head, the words jamming in his throat. There was something else but it was too much to sort through at the moment. Ba'al extended a hand, accepted something from Elsh and stepped close once more. Daniel could barely restrain himself from leaning into his touch, had to fight the drug's impulses fiercely as Ba'al wrapped a hand around the back of his neck. He shuddered at the touch: yearning – that hateful, uncontrolled yearning was back, swamping his senses. He lost track of what Ba'al was doing until cold metal claws pressed against his neck. He tried to pull back but it was too late, the silencer was in place and he was mute once again.
Ba'al brushed off Daniel's furious glare. "Come, Daniel, let us pay our… respects to Lord Yu." He strode to the door. The Nishta in Daniel's blood burned with such intensity that he could no more halt his stumbling steps in Ba'al's wake than he could temper the anxiety that rose the instant Ba'al left him. He had to be close to him, by his side, or as near as possible to quell the yearning to bearable levels. Ba'al swept through the door, Daniel only two inches off his left shoulder.
Dimly, he registered the Jaffa waiting for them, but he instantly forgot them as Ba'al captured his complete attention. He stayed focused on the back of Ba'al's head, sometimes speeding up a little to catch the profile of this man who possessed his body more thoroughly than Daniel himself. Every gesture, every change in expression on Ba'al's face had Daniel captivated and left him longing for a word, a smile, a touch. And deep inside, the real Daniel raged impotently.
Ice cold against the soles of his feet helped pull him out of the fog a little. He blinked, wondering how they had come to be in a hangar, moving toward an Al'kesh. Daniel slowed, pulling back from Ba'al. He struggled to remember what was happening. Yu. They were going to see Yu. But why were his feet cold? He looked down, saw bare toes peeking out from the long kilt he wore.
Daniel? Shoes.
A voice sounded in his head – one he should recognise. A hand touched his arm and he looked up into Ba'al's face. Pleasure flooded through him. He touched me. Contentment filled his soul and he followed his master. He sat where he was told, barely registering the many others around him as his master sat at his side. The God's breath flooded into his heart and he sighed with happiness. He shifted in his seat so that he could see his master clearly. Somewhere off in the distance a voice was yelling at him but the master lifted his hand to his lips and kissed it, silencing that annoying voice for good.
The day passed in a blur of colour, interspersed with moments of clarity that burned into Daniel's brain and stayed, repeating on endless loops when the fog closed in yet again: leaving the Al'kesh and seeing a city framed by mountains, dominated by the enormous gabled roof of Yu's palace; catching Yu staring at him as he sat at Ba'al's feet surrounded by Jaffa; staring at a black stoneware teapot, identical to – was it the same one? – he had served Yu with when he'd first taken the place of his Lo'taur, Jarren.
Light refracted off the diamond shield over his eyes, dazzling him with multihued shafts of brilliance. He angled his face away to stare at the grillwork decorating the far wall. He sighed and shifted his butt on the cushion. His master continued his discussion with Lord Yu, meticulously dividing the spoils from their conquest, or… something. He felt the constant curious regard of Yu and the men and women of his court, crawling over his skin as if no part of him was hidden from their gaze. He ducked his head and eyed the elegant boots his master wore. If he sighed again, would his master look his way? He longed for just a glance. No. He might attract Lord Yu's attention and that would make his master angry. His heart cringed at the thought of displeasing him. He looked at his feet. Wiggled his toes. They were a little dirty. He brushed them, concentrating hard on the task, so that his appearance would please his master. Like… Prize. That was it. Prize was always barefoot.
Like me…. We're the same, Prize and I. Conc—
Images flashed through his head. It was happening more and more lately, leaving him confused and distressed: red hair, flashing eyes, fingernails that scored his flesh, red mouth…. A small whine escaped his throat. He ducked his head, anxious he had disturbed his master. A gentle hand petted his hair. A stern voice spoke somewhere above him, and his master's voice replied, laughing.
He sighed, relieved, and contemplated his toes again.
Finally it was over. Agreement reached, sealed and celebrated with a feast. People around him were rising. His legs were numb. A hand under his elbow pulled him to his feet. Yu was leaving, and his mast—Ba'al, dammit, was issuing orders to his first prime. He stood, lost in the crush of bodies until suddenly Ba'al was there, a hand on his shoulder, turning him in the right direction. His skin shivered at the touch.
He smiled secretly under the veil and followed… his master.
Head bowed, he followed his master away from the audience chamber, through passageways defined by flickering bowls of flame and darkly textured draperies, the only sound the light tinkling of the bell charms adorning his leg. The long trek through the palace – surrounded by a silent, forbidding barrier of Jaffa, hearing only the tromp of footsteps and the tinkle of his chimes – helped clear his head somewhat. They were led into a large suite of rooms. He drifted to a halt some few yards away from… Ba'al. The Jaffa faded away into adjoining rooms, securing the exits and locking down the immediate area. Within moments, savoury scents of food floated from the archway through which Elsh had disappeared.
The first prime reappeared by the curtained windows. He gestured obliquely to Ba'al and then was gone again.
Slow, silent steps took Ba'al in a circuit of the enormous room. Intricately carved furniture sat in conspiratorial groups on finely crafted rugs, dotted about the central bed like islands on a mahogany sea. The bed itself was a sunken lagoon of red; satin pillows rose in waves amongst thick downy quilts. It lay some four feet below floor level, easily big enough to sleep eight people.
"Lord Yu was most intrigued by Our companion," Ba'al said from somewhere off to Daniel's right. Daniel turned his head, slowly tracking the voice to its owner. "He appreciates a fine looking body and has, We are informed, a large collection of Companions and slaves." Ba'al was eyeing him speculatively.
Daniel blinked, peering through the fog in his head. He opened his mouth, then realised he couldn't speak, so he wrapped his arms around his stomach, concentrated on breathing and bringing his scattered thoughts back together. Damn, he felt so out of it. He was watching the events around him but comprehension of them wasn't getting through. He felt the same as when he'd been forced to stand next to Sam and watch a Goa'uld slither into Jack: that horrible, empty remoteness where emotions were banished. Exactly the same, in fact.
Goosebumps shivered over his exposed skin with the realisation. He'd been under the influence of Nishta while Jack was implanted. She… Hathor had dosed him with Nishta. No wonder his first clear memory of Hathor's base had been stumbling on a bleeding leg through the tunnels. Ba'al was pacing and talking again, but Daniel tuned him out and concentrated on the memories that were circling just out of reach. The elaborate set-up of the fake base and her scanning of their memories – it was all just a sham, a cover for her real purpose—
Which was what? She wanted information from them, yes, but why had she dosed him with Nishta? She had denied it, lied about an immunity that Ba'al said didn't exist. His stomach roiled at the half-denied thoughts that now came at him, hard and accusing. If she'd drugged him then it was most likely she had raped him again. Self-denial certainly wasn't a part of Hathor's personality and he'd been as helpless as a lamb. He was shaking now, fine tremors running through his nerves. But surely she hadn't gone to all that effort and expense just to get him in bed. No, she'd been after something else, something they knew – he knew… just like… Ba'al.
Daniel swung around, and there he was. Right behind him.
"So quiet, Adon. Ease your thoughts, cherished one. Or, let us ease them for you."
Ba'al glided to a halt in front of Daniel. Stood there, staring intently into his veiled face. Discomforted with both the heavy silence in the room and the speculation in Ba'al's eyes, Daniel dropped his head, looking down at the fall of shimmering fabric covering his body. Soft manicured hands reached out and skimmed down his bare arms. He shivered, dreading the next, inevitable dose of the drug that would plunge him back into the fog he'd barely crawled out of. Ba'al remained standing close to his chest, and Daniel finally raised his head to look into those devious, dark eyes. For long silent seconds they stared at each other, captive and captor, parasite and human.
"Remove your clothing."
Ba'al's voice lay soft and gentle in Daniel's ears, his expressionless face giving no clue to expectations. Daniel's eyebrows curved together in puzzlement, then flattened out in refusal.
Quick as a striking snake, Ba'al's hand curled around Daniel's neck, the host's mouth brushing against his ear. "We will not have servants gossiping to Lord Yu that Ba'al did not bed his catamite."
Hot breath tickled in Daniel's ear, adding more fuel to the flush of indignation consuming him.
"That is what Yu believes you to be – that and no more." Mirth chuckled evilly down the side of his neck. Ba'al drew back mere inches from Daniel's face. "It is why We dressed you as We have."
Daniel pulled back, dread sinking in his gut. Ba'al moved with him, his mouth fastened over Daniel's with possessive fierceness, his tongue invading and holding down Daniel's own, allowing another powerful gust of Nishta to flood into him. With Ba'al's cheek pressed hard against his nose, Daniel couldn't help but swallow down the drug with a gasp of air. It gently burned into his mind, eradicating all attempts at resistance.
"We have no desire for you tonight, however beautiful you are. We are preoccupied with plans that must be settled before We leave this place. You will lay in Our bed and that is all. Your honour shall remain intact and Yu will know you for what We wish him to see."
Sliding his hands down to Daniel's shoulders, Ba'al turned his unresisting captive to face the side wall. A large panel ghosted open at an unseen command. Behind the panel sat a floor to ceiling mirror. Ba'al pressed close to Daniel, looking with open delight over his shoulder at their reflections and the realisation in Daniel's eyes.
All day, the entire trip from Ba'al's Hat'ak, through Yu's city and palace – all the time he had been dressed like this. The shimmering fabric, which to Daniel's own eyes – looking down his body – had seemed solid was, from anyone else's perspective, entirely transparent. Every inch of his body was on display, nothing hidden, nothing private, nothing sacred. His whole presentation was that of a body for the use of its owner, and that owner was Ba'al. Appalled, Daniel was held in that wretched fogged state of powerlessness, mesmerised as Ba'al's hands snaked over his throat, releasing the clasp on his badge of ownership. It fell to the floor with a dull clank. He slid his hands to Daniel's shoulders, stroking betraying fabric, freeing hidden catchings, then a soft tug brought the whole thing slithering down Daniel's body, coiling in a traitorous heap around his bare feet.
The bells about his leg chimed sweetly, announcing his humiliation to all. Daniel wrenched his eyes away from his nakedness, but there was nowhere else to look, except into the treacherous, gleeful depths of Ba'al's eyes, staring directly at his in the mirror's reflection. Ba'al slid a hand up under the veil, tickling through his hair and pulled his face close. "We would taste that which others have sampled." The veil slipped loose from Daniel's mouth and Ba'al's lips fastened firmly over Daniel's.
A shiver ran over Daniel's skin, sweeping up from his legs, standing every hair on end. He felt so disconnected, adrift in the sea of Ba'al's machinations, as if he were perched on the edge of a precipice, the merest touch enough to send him falling forever, shattering into irretrievable shards. He closed his eyes to Ba'al's covetous smile and sank down within himself, seeking out some small part of his soul that was still him. Somewhere, something that would reassure him that he was still Daniel, son of Claire and Mel, husband of Sha're, brother of Skaara, peaceful explorer and sometime inter-planetary archaeologist.
'Anwylyd.'
There she was – his rock, his lifeline in every time of despair, her warm strong arms were there to ground him, strengthen him with her love. Together they could face anything.
Unresisting, unresponsive to Ba'al's caresses, his body moved where directed, accepted yet more of the soul stealing Nishta and was deposited in the cold embrace of the sunken bed. Gathered in his beloved's embrace, Daniel fled the conscious world and finally found peace for a few short hours.
In the depths of the night, he woke to the sound of footsteps. Huddled in the enormous bed, red silk sheet wound around his body, he lay listening to Ba'al pace around the suite, muttering to himself, occasionally speaking to Elsh. Other times there were long stretches of silence, during which Daniel's senses extended to breaking point, listening for the faintest sound, any indication that he was far away from the bed, and Daniel was for this moment, safe. He would sigh in relief, then tense up all over again, dreading each step or rustle of clothing that might be the Goa'uld, coming for him.
When he did sleep again, it in was disorienting, dream-filled episodes, memories of events he knew he had experienced jumbled with other, outlandish scenarios he could only hope had never actually happened.
He jolted awake, his mind clearer, the Nishta dispersing in his system. It must have been hours since Ba'al had last dosed him. He closed his eyes, cringing at the vision of himself in the mirror. Sam's voice floated through his head; "Careful, Daniel. Don't let her breathe on you." Out of context, the warning sounded ridiculous, but with hindsight….
"Sorry, Sam. He got me." And he finally had to acknowledge that if there was no immunity to Nishta, then it was highly likely Hathor had drugged him – all of them – the moment their unconscious bodies had been delivered to her. Was that why she had left Teal'c behind? He really was immune to her breath and would have uncovered her deception immediately. And Hathor had kept them captive for weeks. She could have, and probably had, done anything she wanted to them.
Unbidden, he touched his hair, the shorter length suddenly feeling foreign and vulnerable.
Oh.
The veil was gone. Outside sensations suddenly made themselves known. The soft bed he'd lain down on now felt harder, gritty, like sand. A gentle breeze touched his skin, and as his awareness expanded, he sensed a vast, open space around him. Daniel eased his eyes open, dreading what he would see. He didn't expect fine, blue sand, tiny grains tumbling down miniature dunes a couple of inches from his nose. He sat up and stared, disbelief and confusion vying to swamp him.
Sand stretched as far as he could see. Same behind him, with the addition of a grassy bank some way off. Otherwise, there was only an achingly blue, empty sky. He turned and looked harder, certain he was still dreaming.
Sand. Sky. That was it, apart from himself and the red silk sheet still wrapped around his hips and legs.
Daniel pushed himself to his feet and swayed unsteadily, squinting against the bright light. It took a few moments to register that it was daylight hurting his eyes. Face pinched with confusion, he wandered a few yards, the fine blue sand pressing between his toes.
Where…?
Yu. Supposed to be on Yu's planet. He turned, expecting to see the gabled palace behind him, but there was nothing.
Panic began to cloud his already foggy perception. His lungs picked up their tempo, inhaling the warm, clear air in dizzying gusts. Daniel kept moving in erratic, aimless steps, the momentum helping to at least keep the panic at bay. He tried to remember the previous day but could only retrieve disjointed flashes of dark halls and flickering flames, Ba'al staring at him through the mirror's reflection. Humiliation rose, a tightening in his chest as the lust and possessiveness in Ba'al's eyes burned anew into his soul. One hand clutched the trailing sheet around his hips as he kept walking. He stared intently at grains of powdery blue sand, desperate to scour Ba'al's face from his mind.
He failed. His feet stumbled to a halt. Confused and aimlessly desperate, Daniel lifted his face to the sky and wished, desperately with all his heart, that he could wake up and be back at home in his own big empty bed.
A puff of wind brushed his cheeks, bringing faint scents of water drifting past his nose. The silence wrapped around him, cushioning him in unrealistic comfort. He remained like that long enough to lose his sense perception. The few sounds distorted and echoed, indefinable and far away. His body swayed gently in cadence with the wind's caress. He was adrift. At peace.
Somewhere, a metallic sound broke the hush but it barely intruded on the fog in his brain. He ignored it, until a concussive blast hit his back, lifted him off his feet and threw him to land in the sand like a crumpled rag doll. Stunned, Daniel choked, dragged air back into his lungs and pushed his face out of the sand. He sat on his right hip, arms braced, numerous aches making themselves known along his left side. Something eclipsed the sun and he squinted up at the silhouette looming above him.
"We know this human."
The voice was familiar. Daniel pressed a hand to his head to still the ringing inside it.
"Tau'ri."
Call me crazy, but that sounds like Yu.
"The slave who served Us during the treaty negotiations on Earth."
Watch who you're calling slave, pal.
"Daniel Jackson."
Hello, Yu.
The Goa'uld loomed over him, forcing Daniel to squint up at him. "What value are you that Ba'al would take you and keep you so close to him?" he asked curiously.
Daniel merely blinked up at him, trying to convey as much insolence as he could. As Yu's expression darkened and his ribbon-wrapped hand came up, Daniel tipped his head back and pointed to the silencer embedded in his neck. He smiled – a hollow, mirthless smile – and shrugged.
Yu sneered at him. "You are nothing but a sleeping companion," he decided. "Ba'al's taste for a beautiful face and body are well known, and you are most desirable." He ran his gaze over Daniel's barely covered body, making him squirm. "We would even accept you into Our own bed," he finished lecherously. Yu studied him, as if trying to decide if appropriating Daniel's charms was worth making an enemy of Ba'al.
After some moments' of intense and embarrassing scrutiny, Yu frowned and caught his eye. "How came you to be in Ba'al's Court? Were you taken while interfering on one of his worlds?"
Daniel eyed him, thoughts rapidly sorting through a number of scenarios. Maybe he could stoke a little enmity between the System Lords and open a chance for escape for himself. Slowly, he shook his head, answering Yu's question.
Surprise flitted across Yu's face and was quickly gone. He didn't like being corrected. "No doubt you and your people were surprised by Ba'al's Jaffa and taken prisoner," he declared.
Daniel shook his head again and raised his eyebrows, inviting Yu to try again.
Visibly annoyed at having to play twenty questions, Yu snapped out another possibility. "Then you were on a planet where you should not have been and were taken by Ba'al's men. Did he set them to look for you or did you merely appeal to him when he was presented with his prisoners?"
Daniel answered the long question with a shake, a nod and a shake, although, truth be told, he could probably agree with the last question.
Yu reigned in his temper and sorted through the answers. "Ba'al set his operatives to search for you?"
Daniel gave him an encouraging smile.
"Were you taken on one of his worlds?"
Shake of the head.
"On a world under the dominion of another System Lord?" He was obviously about to get indignant if it had been one of his own worlds.
Another shake of the head.
"On a world outside the domain of the Goa'uld?"
Technically yes, but Daniel shook his head. Nearly there.
Yu was taken aback. Daniel had to swallow a laugh at the comic puzzlement on the Goa'uld's normally haughty face.
"On your own world?" he finally asked, disbelief thick in his voice.
Daniel gave him a big nod and a clap of his hands.
Yu's mouth dropped in astonishment. "Earth is a protected planet. Ba'al violated the treaty just to capture you?"
Daniel nodded vigorously.
Eyes narrowing, Yu growled, "Why? What makes you unique amongst a planet full of slave stock?"
Taking umbrage at the slave comment, Daniel carelessly shrugged, knowing it would just anger Yu further. A movement far behind Yu caught his attention but he quickly returned his gaze to the Chinese pretend-God. This should be interesting.
Yu leaned closer. He caught Daniel's chin and tilted his head up. "We shall know your secrets, slave," he snarled.
Daniel lost focus as a sudden surge of vertigo swept over him. The nearer Yu got to him, the more off-balance he felt. He tried to brush Yu's hand away but missed as the Goa'uld shifted his grip to his hair. He yanked Daniel's head back, exposing his throat. A glint of sunlight reflected off a long sharp dagger that was suddenly descending toward the silencer on his throat.
Nausea and dizziness assailed Daniel as Yu brought his face only inches from his own. He scrabbled desperately for the knife, unbalanced and held upright only by Yu's grip on his hair and the knee shoved forcefully into his side. Dimly wondering what was wrong with him, he clenched his eyes shut as the knifepoint nicked at his skin.
"We would prefer our property remain intact," a voice said mildly.
Daniel cracked open an eye and stared at Yu's eyes, glowing hotly with anger. The knife withdrew, scoring a shallow cut across his throat in the process. Yu turned, keeping his grip tight on both Daniel and the knife.
"You will tell Us why you have taken this Tau'ri from his home. You have defiled the treaty and will bring the wrath of the Asgard down upon us all. Tell Us – what possible value this catamite can be to risk such retribution."
Ba'al stood, arms crossed nonchalantly, the familiar smirk well and truly engaged. Daniel felt a sudden surge of relief and desire at his appearance. He sucked in a strangled breath and unconsciously leaned toward Ba'al.
"Ah, this one rises above mere catamite, dear Yu. This human, this… Tau'ri, has connections and attributes unrivalled by any other Goa'uld or human. His talent for deception is unparalleled." Ba'al smiled openly, obviously enjoying himself. "Why, he even deceived your good self, Yu."
Yu straightened abruptly. The knife was now pointing Ba'al's way, Daniel was happy to see.
"Lies. We have had no contact with this Tau'ri for years."
"Mmmm, that is what you believe. The truth is far different. Shall we tell you?"
Ba'al settled in the sand, enjoying himself enormously as Yu found he had the tactical advantage and was powerless to use it.
"Speak."
"Have you not wondered what became of your former Lo'taur, Jarren?"
Daniel's eyes widened, and Yu stiffened, dragging his head back further.
"The traitor Jarren vanished, no doubt Osiris disposed of him after he had done his bidding," Yu spat.
Ba'al's smile grew and Daniel's heart sank. He tried to brace himself for the backlash as Ba'al revealed the true events of his time as a spy.
"The Lo'taur Jarren never actually saw the venue for the System Lords' Summit," he began. "He was removed from your own palace, dear Yu, no doubt by a Tok'ra – probably one with a special affiliation to the Tau'ri." Ba'al winked at Daniel. "The man who accompanied you to the Summit was in fact an impostor."
"Impossible!" Yu scoffed. "We are not some mindless drone who does not recognise his own slave."
"Yes…. We would also like to know how he achieved the deception. Never the less, We can assure you that when you arrived at the Summit, the man accompanying you as your Lo'taur was Daniel Jackson. We saw him with Our own eyes."
Yu stiffened. He stepped back from Daniel, but didn't release the painful grip on his hair. "You would make a mockery of Us before our brethren? You conspire with Osiris to assassinate Us to further the goals of the banished one, Anubis?" His voice darkened in tone with each accusation. He dragged Daniel sideways, forcing him to scrabble to keep his balance. The knife flashed in the morning sun. He lifted one arm in a no-doubt futile gesture of defence.
Then Ba'al was there, staying Yu's hand. Daniel sat awkwardly in the sand, breaths shallow, heart thudding as the two Goa'uld stood over him and waged a silent battle of wills, knowing that his life would belong to the victor.
Nerve-straining minutes later, Yu lowered his knife. He pushed Daniel away from him with a snarl.
"There is much you do not know. And much to be gained from the Tau'ri's continued life," Ba'al said companionably.
Yu glared at him, but subsided. "Very well."
"Excellent." Ba'al clapped him on the shoulder and resumed his seat in the sand.
Daniel sat up from the sprawl Yu had sent him into, and crabbed sideways away from the Chinese Goa'uld, dragging the sheet with him. When he stopped and retrieved a little of his dignity by securing the sheet around his waist, an amused chuckle made him look up – to find he had placed himself next to Ba'al. Daniel glowered at him and tried vainly to suppress the Nishta's incitement to touch him. He wrapped his arms around his legs and refused to look at either of them.
"By means we have yet to discover," Ba'al resumed, "Daniel masqueraded as your Lo'taur. We remember him clearly. He looked most fetching in his servant's attire. From Our enquiries, We have discovered that he was there to gain intelligence, no doubt using his famed linguistic skills. His plan was undone, however, when Osiris appeared."
Yu growled with displeasure, but Ba'al continued on. "Our young spy then decided that he would capture Osiris and well, We are not entirely sure what he planned, only that he wanted to take Osiris with him."
"Ridiculous," barked Yu. "Why would a Tau'ri risk himself to capture a System Lord? He would have no hope of success. No, he was working for Osiris – attempting to deceive and assassinate Us!" He took a threatening step toward Daniel, but Ba'al raised his hand.
"He would attempt such a dangerous move if he were the lover of Osiris's host, and hoped to free her," he offered.
"Lover?"
Daniel raised his head and stared at Ba'al. Only Osiris could have told him that, so perhaps it was true that Osiris was a member of Ba'al's triad. Yu, on the other hand, was looking less and less likely a member.
"Lover indeed." Ba'al met Daniel's stare and held it, continuing to address Yu. "We believe that when Osiris discovered his plan, he in turn captured our spy and departed the Summit with him."
Under Ba'al's unrelenting gaze Daniel felt his confusion return and increase steadily.
"Or, there is another scenario. It is entirely possible that you are correct, my dear Yu, and Our Daniel was taken and turned into Osiris's operative before Osiris fled Earth. He was after all, present when Osiris was released from Seth's imprisonment. It would have been elegantly simple to take the host's lover and turn him, leaving him behind to gather intelligence on his race and await the time when Osiris would send for him." Speculation glinted in Ba'al's eyes, the smirk now replaced with contemplation.
What? No – that's not what happened. She escaped… after she fried my brain…. Deep unease settled over him and he struggled to think clearly. She couldn't have…. Admittedly his memories of the days in Chicago, and the frantic trips to Colorado and Egypt were very hazy but Janet had said it was due to being ribboned. It was, wasn't it? It couldn't be anything else, surely. But then… there had been that first night, after the funeral. He'd intended to fly straight home – hadn't even brought a change of clothes – but Sarah had been so sweet and needed his help, he'd stayed, ending up late at night, back at her apartment and eventually in her bed. Yes, well done, Danny. You managed to sleep with another Goa'uld. That strange memory-come-dream unleashed by Ba'al's machine resurfaced – looking down at his sleeping body through Osiris's eyes. God, did she really do something to me? The thought of being an unwitting traitor to his team and the SGC took his breath away.
No! The Tok'ra were the ones who came up with the plan to infiltrate the Summit, not me. And yet, it was me they wanted. Me – the least likely to be a spy among aliens… oh, god.
Daniel refocused and found Ba'al had turned back to Yu. His fingers cramped from his white-knuckled grip on the red silk sheet. Yu was loudly declaring that Osiris had tried to kill him, and Ba'al responded with the suggestion that Osiris could have intended to kill them all, had they not agreed to his proposal.
The poison. Was Osiris behind that? Could he have planted the formula for the poison amongst the Tok'ra scientists? Surely not.
"Then why does this traitor still draw breath?" Yu's anger intruded into his thoughts.
"Ah," Ba'al's silky voice was full of cunning. "We have taken Osiris's spy and We are turning him to Our will. It is a lengthy and delicate process, but when we are finished We shall set him free, return him to his master, and he will do Our bidding this time. We shall gain intimate intelligence about Anubis's plans and then We shall strike and obliterate that abomination from existence."
Daniel gaped at Ba'al, completely flummoxed by this turn of events. Turn me into 'your' spy? Against Osiris? Against Anubis, whoever he is?
Yu started to laugh, a low, evil chuckle that set Daniel's hair on end.
"We would be proud to have the Great Lord Yu Huang Shang Ti at Our side in this, Our greatest campaign," Ba'al finished with a flourish.
"Agreed. And We demand the privilege of taking Osiris's head for his crimes against Us," Yu declared fiercely, his eyes flashing hotly.
Ba'al stood and the two Goa'uld closed ranks, standing over Daniel's hunched form. "We would expect no less, Our brother. The galaxy will be rid of this scourge and the System Lords shall be returned to the might and glory that is Our birthright!"
The two clasped arms, sealing the agreement over their human captive.
Daniel sank his head into his hands, and clawed his fingers through his hair in quiet desolation.
Anwylyd - Welsh for Beloved.
