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Part 10/21
Chapter 9 Sateda
Teyla was already out of bed by the time Ronon opened his eyes. He looked around the room and sleepily wondered why. He was always the first one up. "Teyla?" he called. He didn't get a response, but heard a faint noise coming from the dining room. That sounds like – crying.
He immediately stood and ran to see what was wrong. His head throbbed, hurting him so much he could hardly stand it, but he didn't care. Teyla was more important.
Teyla sat at the kitchen table, legs folded up to her stomach on the chair. She appeared to be weeping into her knees.
"Love, what's wrong?" Ronon knelt down next to her and put a hand on her leg.
She sniffled and looked up at him with puffy red eyes. "Oh!" she said, almost embarrassed. "It was just a dream I had." She tried to regain her usual composure, but couldn't. She crumbled into tears again.
Ronon set a chair next to her, lifted her up, and sat down in the chair with her in his lap. Is she just this emotional because of the child? He remembered her being overly-emotional about everything during her last pregnancy, before. . . He quickly shut down that thought and wrapped his arms around her. He rested his head against hers and whispered softly into her ear: "Shhh. It's going to be okay. It was just a dream. It was just a dream." He said the same things over and over until she calmed.
After regaining her composure, she lifted her head to look at him. "But it was not just a dream. I believe dreams happen for a reason."
"Then what happened in your dream?" he asked in a soft tone. He was afraid that a louder tone would shatter her restraint and she would cry again. He hated to see her cry.
"You and I were at the Carnival and a group of Ancestors entered. They asked you what you had to say for yourself, and you did not understand. They told you that you were responsible to achieve a great victory, but did nothing and failed. They told you your punishment would be death. Then – then—" She started to cry again.
Ronon tightened his grip. My dreams get better, and hers only get worse. I'd rather it be the other way around. Wait. Is she thinking that my dreams are what I was responsible for? That I was killed because I didn't understand them? She really is worrying about this too much! He felt bad for her, because he was now actually starting to enjoy the dreams.
"It's all right. I'm fine. I'm here. Nothing's going to happen to me." He repeated over and over as she cried.
"You do not know that, Ronon! How do you know your dreams are not the Ancestors' way of trying to tell you something?" She looked up at him, eyes red and puffy.
He looked up at the ceiling and closed his eyes. Ancestors! She is not trying to start this up again! "Love, I promise you. No harm will come from the dreams."
"If no harm will come from them, why will you not tell me what is happening?" She sniffled, then quickly wiped her eyes.
She won't rest until I tell her, will she? "Okay. I'll tell you." He looked out the window, trying to organize his thoughts while at the same time seeing how much time he had left. He still had at least an hour before work: good.
She wiped the last few tears from her eyes and looked into his. "Really?" she asked in a voice filled with wonder.
"What do you want to know?" What would she care to know? Nothing interesting happened in them.
She adjusted in his lap and put her arms around his neck, suddenly in a better mood. "What happens? What are you doing?" she asked happily.
"I think it is the City of the Ancestors. It's just me and you, but you're different. We aren't married there, we're just friends." He tightened his grip around her to comfort her just in case.
Her face brightened even more. Was this what people meant when they talk about pregnant women glowing? "What do you do?" she asked him sweetly. She leaned her head against his and listened intently.
"Well, at first, I was in the infirmary. But recently, we've just been spending time together. Eating, sparring, watching lame movies, things like that." He chuckled at the memory of the events that occurred in last night's dream. McKay was really into that movie. It was so stupid! Girl movie. Ironic. It was a love movie and the only girl there fell asleep. The memory made him smile again. He almost liked the dreams now: almost, but not really. He still wished that they would go away.
Her smile vanished. "That is all?"
"Yeah, that's it," he assured her.
"Oh." Suddenly, she was sullen again. She paused, then asked another question. "What does the Ancestral City look like – in your dreams?"
"It's bright. On the ocean. I have a balcony, so that's really nice. Besides that—" He stopped talking without realizing he'd left off mid-sentence. He gently lifted Teyla and put her on her own seat.
Her head followed him as he walked into the kitchen, then came back with two steaming cups: coffee for him and tea for her. "How big is the world?" She wrapped her hands around the mug to absorb its warmth.
"The planet? I don't know. All I ever see is ocean. It must be huge. However, Atlantis is just a city in the middle of it." He took a big sip of his coffee, which was too strong for his wife. She'd tried it before and decided to stick with tea.
Shock and wonder filled her expression, and she paused with her cup inches away form her mouth. She lowered it slowly to the table before she sputtered out her next question. "The city floats?"
"Yeah. It's pretty cool. Are you okay now?" He watched her take a drink of tea and set her cup on the table again, very calmly.
Teyla got up from the table and went to the kitchen to find food. "Yes, I am fine now. I appreciate your sharing your dreams with me, but will you promise me that you will tell me everything else that occurs in them?" she called back.
Ronon moved to the doorway to watch her. The morning light streamed in the window and illuminated her silhouette. Her beautiful hair framed her face, and she smiled so warmly it made him smile back. He loved it when she was happy. She faced into the light, which warmed her delicate features even more.
"Of course. The only reason why I didn't tell you was because I didn't want to hurt you. Now I know that not telling you is hurting you." He walked in and stood next to her. "And I would never want to do anything to hurt you." He hugged her, cradling her head in his hand.
"Thank you." She snuggled into him, her tiny form fitting perfectly against his. Then he sighed abruptly. "It is getting late. I must get ready to leave." Her voice was muffled against his arm.
Ronon frowned. Something didn't seem right, but he didn't know what. I'm probably just imagining things again. "Okay," he sighed. He didn't want to let her go.
She gently pulled away from his embrace and slowly walked to the bedroom.
Ronon retrieved his cup of coffee and went outside. They'd kept a chair on the back porch since they moved in, but it had never been used until today. Although he had to be at work early, he still had time to watch the suns finish rising. It was as if they were racing each other across the sky. He didn't think about anything else but the beauty that he was witnessing. In fact, he didn't want to.
Everything was fine now. Teyla was no longer afraid of his dreams; the dreams were no longer causing him agony; and they were going to have a child. As for the headaches. . . Well, they were worse than ever, but there were short moments during the day when he forgot about them.
The western sun won the race, telling Ronon he had little time before he was expected at the reserve. He sighed and went back into the house, reluctant to let go of his early-morning calmness.
Ronon washed his mug and headed for the door. As he strapped his holster on, he realized he still had his cotton pants on. In the drama of the morning, he'd forgotten to change as soon as he got up. He ran to the bedroom, cursing all the way. Now he knew he was going to be late.
"Where have you been?" Teyla asked him when he entered. She looked up from where she was bent over searching for a missing shoe.
He jolted, surprised by her voice. "I – uh – I was outside. Watching the sunrise. I thought you'd left," he admitted.
She found the shoe and put it on before walking over to him. "Without saying goodbye?" She put her wrists on his shoulders and wrapped her hands around his neck.
Ronon felt a smile tickle at his lips. "I don't know. You just seemed to be in a hurry." He spoke slowly and softly, hypnotized by her beauty.
Teyla tilted her head and spoke in a slow, nearly seductive tone. "I would never be in such a hurry to leave without a kiss."
Ronon smiled as she pulled his head down to her level and kissed him. "I believe it," he whispered.
Teyla withdrew. "I must go now. Do not forget to stop and see John – Elizabeth told me he is feeling alone." She paused in the doorway, waiting for an answer.
Ronon finished dressing as she talked and sat on the bed to pull his shoes on as he answered. "Okay. I think he can come back to work tomorrow, but I'll still make sure he's fine. Have fun at work. Tell the kids I said 'hi.' And – be careful." He looked pointedly at her stomach.
"I will be. Farewell, my husband. I love you," she said quickly as she turned to leave.
"I love you too," he called after her. "More than you know," he said to himself. Now he was ready to go.
He ran to work. Not because he was in a hurry, but because he needed to feel the wind on his face, the adrenaline pulsing through his veins. He was free. Free, and oh so happy.
Streets of Sateda
Oh, Shep. Is he ever going to beat me? Statistically, after all the matches we've been in, you'd think he would have won once. Maybe he'll get better after he starts back at work tomorrow. Ronon chuckled at the thought and suddenly found he wanted to run again. He'd forgotten how good it felt until this morning. However, he couldn't. His head hurt too much, and the streets were still crowded. He weaved through the crush, trying not to run into one of the many people surrounding him.
Ronon silently opened the door to his house and listened for the humming that warmed his heart. He didn't. At first, he didn't even hear anything. He tried to be as quiet as possible while he put his things where they belonged, just in case she was napping.
He walked to the kitchen with long, quiet strides. "Teyla?" Is she not home yet? Why not? Is she okay? Thoughts raced through his mind as he started to run when he did not hear a response to his soft calling of her name.
He stopped: at last, he heard something! But his gut tightened when he realized it was the same noise he'd awakened to. "What's wrong?" He slowed to jog and then stopped altogether in the doorway of their kitchenette.
Teyla was openly crying, tears falling into the sauce she was stirring. She looked up at him, but said nothing. She cried harder and turned back to the stove.
Ronon let out his breath in a rush. "Oh, Teyla." He lowered the heat from the fire and turned her into himself, holding her in his arms. He rested his head on hers and exhaled again. "Is this about the dreams? Love, I told you—"
"It is not." Her voice cracked as she spoke.
He squeezed her tighter, wishing he could calm the shudders ripping through her petite form. "What is it, then?"
She sniffled and shook her head, burrowing it further into his chest.
Ronon lowered his head so the side of his face touched hers. He kissed the clan tattoo on her neck and began to rub his hand soothingly up and down her back and across her shoulders. "You don't want to tell me?" he guessed in a whisper that stirred the hair by her ear.
Teyla shook her head again. His shirt was getting wetter by the second, but he had yet to notice.
Ronon took a deep, calming breath, trying not to panic. "Are you hurt?"
She shook her head and whimpered softly.
"Is something wrong with the—" He didn't want to say it, didn't want to put those thoughts in her head. He subconsciously gulped. "—the child?"
Her whimpers once more dissolved into earnest tears. She burrowed her face further into his chest, as if in an attempt to hide from the world.
"What happened?" He lifted his head and tried very hard not to yell the question.
Teyla turned her head so her cheek was placed against his chest. "Nothing has happened. The child is fine. I just – I fear that. . ." She couldn't continue.
Ronon shifted one hand to lay it on her tearstained cheek. "Doc said that probably won't happen again. The child is going to be fine." He stroked her hair.
Teyla turned her face, resting the other side of her face up against him. "Neither of you can be certain. I do not know if I could – I do not know what I would do if – if I lost another child." She was in tears again before she finished.
Ronon held her close, as he felt her pain, her emotions. He felt tears of his own fill his eyes; fear flood his stomach. Ancestors, she's right. Please, no. Please don't let this happen again. . .
He didn't know what to say. He knew she was right. They had no way of knowing the same thing wasn't going to happen again. However, he did know that if it went badly, Teyla would be more emotional about it than him. She, after all, was the one carrying that small, defenseless life inside her. He, as much as he hated it, was an outside observer.
Suddenly, he was desperately afraid for her.
Ronon swallowed hard and said the only thing that he could think of in a voice hoarse with unshed tears of his own. "Whatever happens, I'll be here. I promise you, Teyla, I will never let go of you."
Teyla stopped crying and wiped her eyes. "I know, Ronon. That does bring me a great deal of comfort. I just. . . When I lost the last child, it—" she stopped when her voice cracked again.
"Shh, my love. I'm here. Worrying isn't going to help anything. Just – it's going to be all right. Somehow." He rested his chin on top of her golden head as she wrapped her arms around his waist.
Whatever happened, they would be okay. If something went wrong, they would be heartbroken, but they would survive. How? Because they had each other. Their love would keep them strong.
To Be Continued