Chapter Twenty
She knew better. She'd known the man for less than a year and yet she knew better. Daniel spoke about himself as often as she'd been invited to have drinks with the president, but those pretty blue eyes of his revealed so much to anyone who bothered to look – it didn't take someone who was as attuned to human male behavior as Vala to notice that Mitchell's news had hit Daniel hard, and behind his seemingly easy acceptance of his grounding that darkness behind his eyes was growing. He'd agreed to remain on the Jaffa world where escape to the SGC through an open wormhole was just a few miles away much too easily.
Before the beams that took Mitchell and Teal'c up to the Odyssey had disengaged, Daniel had retrieved his arm from her grasp and slid back into the men's cabin, and she hadn't even noticed until she heard the decisive click of the wooden door behind her. Initially miffed that her grand gesture to stay by his side in his enforced exile from SG-1 was being rejected, she'd grabbed at the handle to pursue him when his voice came through the crack she'd widened between door and frame. "I'll be out in a minute – just changing."
"Oh." She'd allowed the door to swing shut, realizing abruptly that the thin cotton garments they'd all been loaned for the night were not very practical for his usual style of aggressive research. As much as she'd like to tease him by not taking the hint, Vala didn't want Daniel to close himself off in reaction to her usual taunting – what she'd most like to do was to find the magic formula, the exact combination of words or tones that would draw out some of the deeply hidden thoughts that were slowly poisoning the man. Mitchell's insistence yesterday at the Ancient ruins that the only thing bothering Daniel was his obsession with the location of Merlin's weapon was bad enough if it were true – she believed otherwise. He'd been depressed on their journey home from Atlantis, almost feverish with activity when he returned, secreting himself in England far from anyone who might notice that anything was wrong, and then oddly emotional before and after her kidnapping by Athena. And during it all, something behind those eyes reminded her of her own attempts to distance herself from everyone around her just so she could forget, at least for a little while.
Vala stepped from the small platform in front of the house and looked around at the early morning activity in the village. Smoke rose from outdoor hearths as children carried water from the wells at either end of the settlement, and voices carried on the slight morning breeze – friends hailing one another, sleepy children squalling, and undergirding it all the deep rumble of men who gathered along the pathway to the meeting hall including the three Jaffa who had welcomed SG-1 so readily. She sighed heavily; this was the most peaceful, restful world she'd ever experienced. It gave her the creeps.
Looking more comfortable and ordinary in the standard issue green trousers and black t-shirt, weapon strapped tightly to his thigh, Daniel joined her in her silent appraisal of the villagers. At first glance, she decided, Daniel seemed a strong man who fit easily into the SGC mold – identically clothed, familiar in his very conventionality. But that very first time they'd met aboard the Prometheus she'd recognized that there was something different about this one – and it wasn't just because he had been the only one who'd been fast enough in thought and action to surprise her. Her own back-story was convoluted enough to serve as the basis for many of the Hollywood movies she'd watched on "team nights," at least those that involved alien snake monsters and ray guns, but Vala had wondered about Daniel's past for some time now, and how such a man became associated with the military establishment on the Taur'i planet.
His gaze swept past her quickly, lighting for just a moment on her welcoming grin as he watched the families, children held protectively in fathers' arms, Jaffa who would look more at home in battle armor wielding devices of torture than laughing with friends and gently taking leave of wives and daughters. Vala tilted her head to one side, her attention riveted on the teammate beside her. She wondered if this scene evoked memories of his life on Abydos with his wife. After quite a lot of wheedling, Vala had gotten Sam to tell her a bit about Shar'e, Daniel's Abydonian wife, and his decision to leave Earth, but those few words told her much less than Samantha's sorrowful expression. They'd lost many things – many people dear to them - over the past eight years, but both remaining members of the original SG-1 team had made it clear that Daniel's losses were not to become subjects for Vala's curiosity. She'd made an attempt with General O'Neill when they were watching over Daniel's bedside, but the military man had been less than accessible even with her considerable charms.
As she made her way through the underground hallways of the SGC, Vala had overheard different words being attached to the reticent archaeologist, words like "innocent" and "sweet." Vala gave a mental snort. Of course, most of the people who used terms like those didn't have much actual experience with Daniel Jackson under pressure, and under pressure was just about the only time Vala had ever seen the man. She'd been at the receiving end of his sharp tongue too many times for her to have any illusions about his supposed "innocence" - Daniel was no innocent. But he was unbelievably decent.
"Have I got my pants on backwards or something?"
His annoyed question made her realize that she'd been standing there staring as her brain continued to try to fit Daniel Jackson into any likely-looking slot within her experience and failing - again. Widening her grin she deliberately let her eyes linger on her teammate's physique, warmed by the fact that she could still startle an irritated blush out of the self-conscious scholar. "No, I don't think so, but if you'd turn around I could make absolutely sure," she batted her eyelashes flagrantly.
Daniel strode past her quickly, but she skipped a few steps to catch up before he'd gone very far. "Vala," he began, sighing, "I have a lot of reading to do today. While I appreciate your decision to stay here with me, you don't really have to stay with me the entire time."
"I want to help, Daniel," she insisted firmly.
At the door to the small building he'd procured as a temporary office and research center, Daniel stopped. "I know," he smiled, sincerely this time, she thought. "But you're going to be completely bored, and I'm sure there are more interesting things for you to be doing in the village than watching me read and make notes about the Ancient inscriptions."
She put her hands on her hips. "Don't shut me out, Daniel. You might at least like having someone to vent to about this ridiculous situation!" She could pick any number of alien locks, but getting the foremost scholar of the SGC talking was still a skill she had not mastered.
Glancing at the nearest villagers as if gauging the probability that they could hear Vala's outburst, Daniel grabbed her by the elbow and propelled her through the door, ignoring her faint protests. Once inside she shook off his grip easily and rubbed at her arm, her mouth opening to lodge a complaint about the rough handling. The words died in her throat as she raised her eyes to find Daniel's blazing with barely suppressed anger. Oh, you don't scare me, Daniel, she thought. Closing her lips into a firm line she turned her back and busied herself adjusting the oil lamps that stood behind diffusion screens on either side of the small room; easing the control mechanism to allow more fuel to reach the flame, she was rewarded by a warm golden glow that spread out through the room.
Daniel's notes and papers stood undisturbed on the large wooden table in the center of the small space, his partially opened pack resting beneath. Vala rose to her feet and yanked down the waist of her fatigue jacket, watching Daniel's anger wane as his gaze wandered to the Ancient puzzle he'd laid out so carefully the night before. She crossed her arms and sat back against a nearby stool, a patiently helpful expression on her face, hoping that she'd be able to annoy something out of the troubled man, some hint about what was bothering him at the moment.
"I don't need to vent, Vala," Daniel finally said, chuckling slightly under his breath, but never actually meeting her eyes, "but I appreciate the offer."
Chewing on the inside of her cheek, Vala waited but Daniel only smiled tightly and shrugged.
"You're sure?" she ventured, certain that Daniel was just being stubborn, refusing to deal with whatever it was. He was good at it, she had to admit. "Don't tell me that you don't hate it that the military types are figuratively strangling your efforts to find this weapon and end this merry chase the Ancients are leading us."
Daniel frowned, moving past Vala to kneel beside his pack, throwing shadows across his expressive features. He retrieved two thin volumes from his backpack, and rose to place them carefully beside the open journal bearing his notes on the translation of the Ancient stones. "They aren't 'strangling' me, Vala; they just don't want to admit that…" His voice tapered off as he flipped unseeing through hand-written pages.
Stepping closer to him, Vala put one hand on Daniel's arm. "Admit what? What don't they want to admit, Daniel?"
He didn't look up. "Nothing," he muttered, "just drop it, it's not important. What is important," he lifted the archaic chronicle from the desk and showed her the hand-lettered pages, "is finding the truth behind the myth of Merlin and Excalibur."
Vala tilted her head back and rolled her eyes at the ceiling. Circling the table, she waited until she was positioned directly across from him before trying again. "Is General O'Neill the only one you ever really talk to, Daniel?"
"What?" Daniel's head snapped up from his study of the old manuscript to find her awaiting his reaction. "Why would you say that?"
"Well, I know you don't talk to Sam, or Cameron, and you certainly don't talk to me – after dropping that little fact about your wife aboard Adria's ship you've shut up tighter than ever. Do you and Teal'c share thoughts and feelings over a dish of reyv'lak, or whatever the Chulakians are eating these days?" She frowned, toying with a broken pencil lying next to the text rubbings as if seriously considering the possibility. "You know, he just doesn't seem the 'emotionally available' type," she finally decided. "But then again, neither does the general from the few times I've spoken with him. He did stay with you in the infirmary, though," she added before Daniel could do anything to stop her stream of consciousness. "And he did seem to have your number – is that the expression? – after Mitchell came to see you."
Daniel's eyes narrowed. "I should be used to this by now. There really is no privacy on a military base," he observed tightly.
"Oh, well, you know," she leaned over and scratched at the thin paper with the metal end under the torn eraser. "You asked me to bring your dusty old books, and I just happened to be taking a short cut behind those curtain things that separate the beds in the infirmary…"
The ragged sigh was familiar enough to keep Vala's head down over the clever little sketch she was scratching into the thin paper - Gen. O'Neill, hair sticking up in all directions, wrapped up in the infirmary blanket next to stick figure Daniel with tiny Xs over his eyes. It was the silence that made her finally look up to find the scholar trying to hide a smile.
"I did, didn't I?"
She nodded brightly. "And, of course, I didn't want to interrupt two old friends shouting – I mean – talking to each other, now did I?"
"No," Daniel replied slowly, "I'm sure you didn't. Not when you could hide and listen in. You've been hanging around Mitchell too much," he added under his breath. Daniel placed both hands on the tabletop and bent to try to get a look at Vala's drawing. "And from this one conversation you figured that I trust Jack O'Neill with all of my personal problems?" He looked up into her eyes, his lips twisted in disbelief.
"Come to think of it," Vala hurriedly dropped the pencil and put some distance between her and the silly drawing, "I had been hoping for more personal stories, maybe some fond reminiscences of your more colorful missions or exciting conquests of alien princesses." She immediately knew she'd said exactly the wrong thing, as usual, and turned to take back the flippant words, but Daniel was still smiling, albeit a bit sadly now. "I didn't mean…"
"I know," he nodded. "But still, sorry to disappoint. Jack's not big on the whole caring and sharing thing. He's better at the 'getting Daniel's ass back in gear' stuff."
"But you've vented to him before," she couldn't let it drop. "I've heard you on the phone at the SGC going on and on about bad decisions and stupid regulations and such." She'd never heard Daniel express himself so freely to either of his other long-time teammates – his relationship with General O'Neill must be something very special.
Hitching one hip onto a nearby stool, Daniel crossed his arms, hoping to bring Vala to whatever point she was determined to make soon so that they could return to safer, less Daniel-focused subjects, like his study of the Ancient text. "Yes, Jack has always been able to help me come to terms with the military mindset. He's heard me say the same things so many times before that I know he'll understand my frustrations and prod me into seeing the other side of the argument. But what does that have anything to do with…" His words stalled out as his brain caught up with Vala's crooked line of reasoning. "Oh. You think I – you want to be my Jack, huh?" He suddenly couldn't help remembering Vala impatiently mocking his attempts to get through to the Priors or the Ori-blinded villagers on any number of planets they'd visited over the past year. "Well, you're certainly annoying enough…"
"Daniel! Here I am, offering to help," Vala pretended wounded feelings as she pressed one hand to her chest.
He lowered his chin and shook his head slowly from side to side. Something inside Daniel was clenched tightly, both protecting and nurturing that wounded place in his soul, unwilling to bring it into the light. "Okay," he raised his head and met her eyes, suddenly intent, "you really want to know what has me worried right now?"
Aware that any sudden move on her part might stem Daniel's long repressed self-revelation, Vala stood quietly, inviting him with every ounce of energy in her body.
The shaft of filmy sunlight that fell over her face startled her and she blinked, holding up one hand to shield her face. Daniel spun, hand going reflexively to the weapon at his hip before he recognized the tall, thin figure framed in the open doorway. "Villene?"
"I – I am sorry to disturb you," the young Jaffa woman stammered, her dark eyes shifting nervously between the teammates. "I had been told – we thought you had -"
"It's all right," Daniel assured the woman gently, holding out both open hands in a gesture of friendship. "Please come in."
Kre'bat's oldest daughter, Villene, had been introduced to SG-1 at dinner the previous evening, her father radiating pride. As dark skinned as her father, the woman had made the village's hospitality to the Earth team her responsibility. She was the one who had taken their dripping fatigues in exchange for the light garments worn by the Jaffa in the heavy evening weather, and had made sure SG-1 had their clothes back – warm and dry and smelling faintly of sweet scented smoke – by morning. Vala noticed that the young woman had the rare ability to show up just when she was needed, and to fade into the background when she was not. As she walked forward into the golden light from the lamps, she turned her puzzled gaze towards SG-1's resident diplomat.
"We had thought you would be leaving us today, Daniel," she said, "and when you did not join the council for early meal, we assumed you had already taken leave."
"Our friends did leave, Villene, they were called away very early this morning and, I am sorry, but I didn't know your father and Stro'noc had not been informed." Daniel's lips tightened momentarily as he realized that he had allowed the tension between himself and Mitchell to distract him from his duties to his hosts. He'd assumed Mitchell had said the team's goodbyes and obtained the Jaffa council's permission for him to remain there while the Odyssey investigated the other planets nearby. Settling a smile on his face, he attempted to smooth over any diplomatic hackles. "I understand if you'd rather we leave," he gestured toward Vala, "we can head back through the Stargate…"
Villene's confusion was replaced by a warm smile. "I am happy to see you have remained – my father and the other council members were hoping to learn more of our Ancestors, and they will also be pleased." She placed a large basket filled with what looked like soiled linen on the floor and brushed dark, curly hair that had escaped from her thin scarf from her forehead. "But you have not yet eaten and the council meeting has already begun," she frowned, but her brow cleared almost immediately. "I can bring some of the lightbread and gestra here, and perhaps some tea?" She nodded firmly, one hand already reaching for the door. "Yes. You will be more comfortable here than among those already at work."
"I don't want to inconvenience you, we have some food of our own," Daniel began, but a rude cough from the woman behind him interrupted him.
"Don't be silly, Daniel," Vala stepped forward quickly before her teammate could refuse the woman's hospitality – the homemade bread and sweet honey-like spread they'd enjoyed the evening before was a vast improvement over the standard SGC power bars and instant coffee. Turning her brightest grin on the young woman, Vala flipped her own dark hair behind her shoulder. "We'd love some breakfast, Villene. Let me come and help."
"It is no inconvenience, Daniel," Villene ducked her head slightly, eyes glued to the scholar's handsome face. "I will send two of the children to bring food, and to refill the lamps. I will also send a message to the council, but I am afraid they will not receive it until they turn from their meditation."
Vala found the girl's fixation with her teammate amusing, and bit down hard on her own tongue to stifle a smirk. She might as well be invisible – she just hoped Kre'bat's daughter sent enough breakfast for two.
"Thank you," Daniel replied. "Again, I'm sorry we surprised you. Do you think it would be all right if I continued working in here today?" he asked.
"Of course. Lis'qan was most excited about what you showed him yesterday. He will be very happy to find you here when the meditation is finished." Villene nudged the offending basket back toward the doorway with one bare foot.
Turning to flick a glance towards Vala, Daniel continued. "And perhaps you wouldn't mind if Vala observed some of your daily activities today."
His suggestion brought both women's attention to his face immediately.
"Hey…"
"Wouldn't you…"
Suppressing a grin, Daniel continued. "After breakfast, of course. Vala was just telling me how much she wanted to look around in the village today."
Oh, I'll get you for that one, Daniel, Vala thought and then realized he had quite easily maneuvered the situation to keep her at a distance, away from the chance to poke and prod at whatever was causing his disquiet. Well, that plan certainly worked well.
Several hours, not to mention several unwanted lessons in pottery making and waterproofing later, Vala had managed to convince her new best friend to help her attempt to drag Daniel from his solitary study of the Ancient story into the sunshine to share a mid-day meal with the women and children of the village. It didn't take much persuading to steer Villene's feet along the path to the small building towards which her dark eyes had been wandering off and on throughout the morning. Wondering if the muscular Jaffa knew how smitten his daughter was with the Taur'i scholar, Vala remembered the girl's earlier words.
"Does the council meditate this long every day?" she asked as they approached the door to Daniel's makeshift office.
Villene shook her head. "Only one day out of eight do the men devote themselves to quiet reflection." She laughed. "My father tells me that some of our brothers find it very difficult to remain calm and silent for even that period of time."
"What about him?" Vala asked. "Kre'bat doesn't strike me as the 'peace and enlightenment' type. Looks more like a man of action to me."
Dark eyes flashing with something that looked like pride, Villene hesitated a moment before responding. "Many take one look at my father and believe that he is a brute, good only for fighting and violence. They do not see that it is not his body but his soul that is the strongest part of him."
Immediately on the defensive at the young woman's words, Vala forced herself to wait rather than reacting with an excuse for her statement.
Unaware of her guest's emotions, Villene pulled open the wooden door and ushered Vala inside with a smile. "Father tells me that it is Lis'qan who struggles most with the serenity of meditation. He says it is like trying to cage the wind when the scholar is intent on his pursuit of knowledge. I am sure, with all that Daniel has told him, this morning it was no different."
It didn't take long for the determined women to drag the archaeologist, blinking, into the sunlight. Daniel disentangled his hands from theirs, lightening what would have been his usual irritable reaction to a ploy like this one had it been perpetrated by Vala alone. The trio found themselves arriving at the collection of benches around the central clearing at the same time as the Jaffa council members, where Vala and Daniel were met with surprised and enthusiastic greetings. Stro'noc invited them to stay as long as they liked, asking the representatives of the Taur'i to think of themselves as members of the Jaffa community, while Kre'bat wrapped his arms around his daughter to communicate his delight. Of the entire population, only Lis'qan seemed at all uneasy about SG-1's continued presence, a reaction that worried both of them.
When the older children began clearing platters from the tables, Lis'qan pulled Daniel aside. He'd noticed the Jaffa hurrying through the relaxed meal, barely touching his food and throwing nervous glances at him across the table. Daniel had been surprised by the young man's attitude – he thought Lis'qan above all the other villagers would have been pleased to continue learning about the Ancient language Daniel had begun to explain yesterday. The grip he had on the archaeologist's arm was so tight that it was painful as he guided Daniel away from the gathering towards the outskirts of the community.
"I was told that you were leaving this morning, Daniel," he hissed, eyes scanning their surroundings for anyone who might be listening.
Attempting to tug his arm from the shorter man's grasp, Daniel stopped and turned suddenly, but Lis'qan only tightened his grip. "What's going on, Lis'qan? Stro'noc and the others don't seem worried about our presence – why are you so upset?"
The young Jaffa chewed at his lower lip and seemed to consider Daniel's question. "You must leave – at once!" he finally demanded, looking back over his shoulder.
Daniel raised his right hand to grip Lis'qan's wrist, hoping to draw the Jaffa's attention to the fingers clenched around Daniel's left arm. "What are you afraid of?" he whispered, trying to get Lis'qan to meet his eyes. "What's going on?" he repeated.
Lis'qan turned to reveal eyes brimming with tears. "I did not know, Daniel. Please, you must believe me. I did not know you were coming, or who you were." He shook Daniel's arm. "I only knew that we must do anything, anything, to defeat the Ori."
"Okay," Daniel's frown deepened as he tried to piece together Lis'qan's rambling words. "You didn't know I was coming…here, to translate the Ancient text. And you knew the Ancient text was important, so…" he tightened his own grip on Lis'qan's wrist to prod the man to fill in the gaps.
"Please," Lis'qan's demand had turned into a plea. "You and your friend must leave here; you must go back through the Chappa'i to your home before…"
Digging in his heels, Daniel used his heavier body weight as leverage and managed to yank his arm out of the Jaffa's death-grip. "Before, what?" he shouted, completely out of patience. One look at Lis'qan's trembling form convinced him to rein in his exasperation. "Just- just tell me. It can't be that bad."
Lis'qan now refused to look up at the Daniel's face. Focusing his attention on the ground he wrung his hands in front of him. "We receive news from other Jaffa worlds. Sometimes a family or group of free Jaffa requests sanctuary here, and the council listens to their pleas and decides whether or not to welcome them." He shuffled from foot to foot, wanting to flee, wanting to drag Daniel towards the path leading to the Stargate. "A few weeks ago we took in some others who had been Morrigan's Jaffa who had since fled Ba'al's service. They told us about the Goa'uld's obsession to find an Ancient weapon to use to defeat the Ori, and how Ba'al knew much about the Ancients and their devices."
As the Jaffa became more agitated while he recounted his tale, Daniel became still, his mind taking Lis'qan's guilt-laden words and churning them into clarity. "And you had no way of knowing that we'd show up here, and that I'd be able to read the Ancient words, so you…"
The dark head snapped up and Lis'qan's tears trailed down his cheeks. "So I sent a message through the Chappa'i –"
"- to Ba'al – "
The Jaffa nodded, unable to speak.
" – to tell him about the Ancient text you'd found here." Daniel was reaching for his radio before he realized that he'd left his vest in the cabin where SG-1 had slept the night before. He turned and raced back the way they'd come, hoping that Vala was still talking with the women gathered in the village center when he heard the first whine of engines over his head. Ducking against the wall to his left, he squinted up into the cloud cover to see the tail of the glider sweep past as explosions rocked the ground. Smoke and flames rose above the buildings that surrounded him and the sound of shouting and the distinct zip and twang of zat guns and staff weapons rose above the screams. Daniel cursed loudly, at himself for letting his guard down, and at Mitchell, Landry, Lam, and anyone else he could think of for leaving him here on this not quite as god-forsaken as he'd prefer planet with Vala. He glanced down at the Beretta in his hand and closed his eyes for a second before scanning both directions for any sign of the enemy.
"Come on, Lis'qan," he muttered to the dark-haired Jaffa at his back. "Let's see if we can find Vala and get the hell out of here."
vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv
Now
Tendrils of long dark hair were plastered to the man's bruised and bloody face as he raised his clouded eyes to Daniel's. Ba'al nodded his head in command to the large Jaffa that stood over the prisoner, and he reached down and jerked Lis'qan to his feet with one hand. Seeing Daniel's frown, the young Jaffa raised his bound wrists in appeal.
"Daniel…" he breathed, a glimmer of hope beginning to burn away at the edge of his despair.
"I see you know our friend, Dr. Jackson," the clone observed coolly, watching the archaeologist from the corner of his eye. "And I suppose you also know that it was his message that brought me to this world, ultimately resulting in your injuries and capture."
A cough spurted blood between Lis'qan's cracked lips and Daniel took a step backwards in reflex until the spasm passed. "Please, Daniel…" he begged.
"Yes, Daniel," Ba'al echoed, turning to face the Taur'i. "Please tell me what we should do with this one. It was he that brought death to the innocent women and children of this planet. Tell me, what punishment does he deserve for bringing this much destruction?"
In the space of one blink Daniel realized that this was a test – that his decision here would determine Ba'al's next actions. His eyes were locked on Lis'qan's, but his vision was blurred, unfocused, memories of the deaths of enemies by his own hand, wound-ridden bodies piled up in Goa'uld palaces, entire worlds turned to fire, boys of Abydos with smoking craters where their chests used to be. There was only one fitting punishment for death, for the trail of bodies that stretched from this moment back to his very birth.
"Kill him," Daniel said, the words feeling right in his mouth.
Ba'al's eyes flashed in delight and astonishment. Grabbing the staff weapon from the Jaffa beside him, he held it out towards the black-clothed man. "Of course. Would you like to do it yourself?"
He snorted and tore his gaze from the young Jaffa's terror to Ba'al's studied indifference. "Would that make him any more dead?" He turned and strode back down the hallway, unhurried, and the spurt of liquid fire and thud of the body hitting the metal deck behind him barely registered in Daniel Jackson's conscious mind. There was no going back.