Chapter 19: Please don't pry
Varielle awoke wrapped in blankets. Wherever she was, she was warm, comfortable and desperately hungry.
She poked her head out of the cocoon. Daniel was dozing against a wall decorated with the peculiar glyphs of the Goa'uld he had shown her. For a moment she reached for Amarell's lightsaber and wished she had her blaster, then relaxed. If it was truly a dangerous place, she would not be here and he would be awake, or in prison.
She looked around, but saw nothing she recognised as food. Reaching out with the Force, she realised they were some way from the Stargate - probably as far as he could drag her without hurting her or himself - and in a very extensive building with no life except plants and animals. And to one side there was a crude clay pot filled with water and some kind of edible fruit. She could have eaten three times the amount, but firmly restricted herself to half, eaten slowly to cushion a stomach empty for over a day.
"Mmmph," Daniel muttered, head thrashing from side to side. "Nooo…"
Reaching out with the Force, she felt his fear and despair in his dreams. She shook his shoulder gently.
"Hey," she said. "It is only a dream."
"No," he shook his head. "It wasn't."
"It was the past," she said as gently as she could, hoping he'd see the understanding in her face. "The past can always hurt, but it is past, and no more real than any dream."
He shook his head and rubbed his face. "Who was she?" Varielle asked. "The woman in your dream, with dark hair."
"Please don't pry."
"I will never speak of it if you do not wish me to," she promised. "But I wanted to know if it would be a good idea to wake you, or not."
"Why wouldn't it be?"
She decided to make him laugh. "When we are students, we share rooms with others. Sometimes different species, different genders. One room-mate I had, he was a little older than me, and human. He sounded like you did in your dream one night, so I woke him. He asked if I could not have let him sleep; he doubted that he would find girls like that anywhere in real life."
He looked at her perfectly sincere face. "You're trying to make me feel better."
"I'm trying to make you laugh. You are too serious, Daniel. There are times for that, and there are times you can be alive and like it. You have lost that."
"I was dead."
"Before you were dead. But you had happiness with that woman. And you lost it."
"Her name was Sha're. She was my wife."
"You loved her very much." It wasn't a question. "I remember how Amarell felt when Janama died. Like he would never be whole again. Even when he died, he did not feel whole again."
Daniel nodded slowly. "Can you get home?"
"From here? I think so. Can you?"
"I can manage something."
"Will you give me a few hours to see what I can arrange? Perhaps I can get them to treat you as a visiting ambassador or something." She hunted for words. "You risked your career for me. Perhaps your life. I owe you."
"That wasn't why I did it."
"And for that I owe you the more." She sighed. "It's a shame you don't have the talent. You would make the kind of Jedi who comes once in ten generations if we're lucky."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"It is. Eat. Drink. Go back to sleep. I have to go home. I'll send someone to see you. What is the address here, and how long before your friends find you?"
"They won't. We gated to one planet from Earth, then came here." He saw her look around. "It used to be a Goa'uld pleasure palace."
She burst out in gales of laughter.
"What? What's so funny?"
"Of all the places," she gasped. "Villages, caves, cities, ships - and you bring me to an old brothel?"
He wasn't sure of the humour, but was laughing anyway.
Varielle awoke wrapped in blankets. Wherever she was, she was warm, comfortable and desperately hungry.
She poked her head out of the cocoon. Daniel was dozing against a wall decorated with the peculiar glyphs of the Goa'uld he had shown her. For a moment she reached for Amarell's lightsaber and wished she had her blaster, then relaxed. If it was truly a dangerous place, she would not be here and he would be awake, or in prison.
She looked around, but saw nothing she recognised as food. Reaching out with the Force, she realised they were some way from the Stargate - probably as far as he could drag her without hurting her or himself - and in a very extensive building with no life except plants and animals. And to one side there was a crude clay pot filled with water and some kind of edible fruit. She could have eaten three times the amount, but firmly restricted herself to half, eaten slowly to cushion a stomach empty for over a day.
"Mmmph," Daniel muttered, head thrashing from side to side. "Nooo…"
Reaching out with the Force, she felt his fear and despair in his dreams. She shook his shoulder gently.
"Hey," she said. "It is only a dream."
"No," he shook his head. "It wasn't."
"It was the past," she said as gently as she could, hoping he'd see the understanding in her face. "The past can always hurt, but it is past, and no more real than any dream."
He shook his head and rubbed his face. "Who was she?" Varielle asked. "The woman in your dream, with dark hair."
"Please don't pry."
"I will never speak of it if you do not wish me to," she promised. "But I wanted to know if it would be a good idea to wake you, or not."
"Why wouldn't it be?"
She decided to make him laugh. "When we are students, we share rooms with others. Sometimes different species, different genders. One room-mate I had, he was a little older than me, and human. He sounded like you did in your dream one night, so I woke him. He asked if I could not have let him sleep; he doubted that he would find girls like that anywhere in real life."
He looked at her perfectly sincere face. "You're trying to make me feel better."
"I'm trying to make you laugh. You are too serious, Daniel. There are times for that, and there are times you can be alive and like it. You have lost that."
"I was dead."
"Before you were dead. But you had happiness with that woman. And you lost it."
"Her name was Sha're. She was my wife."
"You loved her very much." It wasn't a question. "I remember how Amarell felt when Janama died. Like he would never be whole again. Even when he died, he did not feel whole again."
Daniel nodded slowly. "Can you get home?"
"From here? I think so. Can you?"
"I can manage something."
"Will you give me a few hours to see what I can arrange? Perhaps I can get them to treat you as a visiting ambassador or something." She hunted for words. "You risked your career for me. Perhaps your life. I owe you."
"That wasn't why I did it."
"And for that I owe you the more." She sighed. "It's a shame you don't have the talent. You would make the kind of Jedi who comes once in ten generations if we're lucky."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"It is. Eat. Drink. Go back to sleep. I have to go home. I'll send someone to see you. What is the address here, and how long before your friends find you?"
"They won't. We gated to one planet from Earth, then came here." He saw her look around. "It used to be a Goa'uld pleasure palace."
She burst out in gales of laughter.
"What? What's so funny?"
"Of all the places," she gasped. "Villages, caves, cities, ships - and you bring me to an old brothel?"
He wasn't sure of the humour, but was laughing anyway.