Disclaimer: Don't own Atlantis. Nwope. Just' doing' this for fun. I do, however, own Xiolh, the name Aisilon, and Vilindra/ Jinivia. If ya' wanna use, just ask :)

A/N: - --Kafn is a degrading curse word. (yes, I made it up)

8/14/07 This story has now been nominated for the Stargate Fan Awards. I'm so honored! Thank you!

---------------------------------

This place has a stench to it. The imprisoned Wraith thought as his stomach churned at the very thought. It doesn't smell like those imposters. His thoughts continued as he glanced up to the rather cross looking man who had been serving as in interrogator and guard. Their scent is still here. This must truly be Atlantis.

Since his capture the Wraith guardian had ignored most of the unpleasant man's questions and comments. He was too busy absorbing the strong hold of the creatures he used to take in nourishment. Any Wraith knew that the richest 'tasting' souls were that of the people of Atlantis.

The creature closed his eyes and inhaled once more. Instinctively the back of his throat began salivating much as a human's mouth would. His palm began to sweat. He tried to fight the urge to lunge forward at the bars that he was being held in, knowing that the struggle was futile. His hunger was secondary to the other thoughts he was trying desperately to block out.

"Major."

His head snapped to the entrance of the room. It was shadowed, but he could make out the figure of another human he suspected was female from the voice and physique of the silhouette.

The man, who had been addressed, looked displeased at the entry. He obviously didn't want her down here. He more likely doesn't want her in my proximity. The wraith mused as he sat there.

The woman appeared to be a commander of some kind as the man obliged and walked closer to her. He was muttering something a little too low for the warrior to unscramble, but it wasn't said in a welcoming tone. He could have sworn he heard a brief chuckle.

As the woman stepped out of the darkness the wraith's pupils dilated in shock. It wasn't the woman's general appearance that had taken him aback, but her eyes. Humans had a saying that eyes are the windows to a person's soul. As a Wraith he knew that this was not quite true, but very close.

Every creature has a unique eye. To someone without his senses they would be but but a plain color. To a Wraith, many layers and emotions could be seen. It was like a serial number from an object. This woman's eyes held the same core passion in them as…her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Commander Xiohl!" A rather lanky wraith adolescent called to his superior.

Behind him two of his kind from his section dragged a humanoid female. She had fine features and pale skin. Both of those were uncommon for a Lantean warrior.

Yet, she could be nothing else. They had found her in the middle of the latest skirmish. In fact, he had witnessed her fighting. The Lantian had managed to bring down three of his companions before capture.

She hadn't been quite skilled enough. The Wraith squad were lucky to bring her back before the rest of her kind at the site were consumed or brought back for later intake. Some of the human soldiers had their comrades take their lives only so that they could disappear in a curious light. There were rumors that those of Atlantis could go into an afterlife all their own.

"Ahhh excellent." An aged green-tinted Wraith with piercing eyes turned to the newcomers with glee. He visually feasted on the female who was urged towards him against her will. He laughed as the female's knees buckled beneath her, forcing her face into the dirt that lathered the lair.

"What's wrong my dear?" He mocked her with his words as he advanced upon her. With his palm he yanked her head out of the filth, his sheathed claw digging into her cheekbone.

"You know..." He whispered with a rasp as he swept away a strand of her chestnut hair. "For a Kafn--, your almost attractive. Lets see if you're of any...other...use to us."

Unlike what her counterparts may have done, she made no snide remarks or gestures. She simply looked up at him with an emotionless expression. She would not give him the respect of a reply.

"You'll learn to talk." Xiolh spat at her. "Aisilon! Take her to confinement cell five. Teach her a lesson. If she doesn't break... watch over her. We'll get what we need out of her."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Hey! Steve!" The Major barked at the prisoner, ripping him from his trance. "Keep your grubby eyes to yourself, will ya'!" The Wraith smirked at his gaurd's protective manner as he moved to block his vision of the woman.

Suddenly the Wraith's head began to spin. His hunger was taking a toll on him. It was tolerable, but barely. Unlike the others, when he had first come out of his sleep, his first action was not to feed. He had tendency to only feed when necessary, unless he must for show. He was beginning to resent that decision.

He groaned prompting some sly mark from the younger male. 'Steve' didn't reply. That man made him sick with his cocky attitude towards his every breath.

That man knows nothing of my kind. While the wraith fed on entire civilizations, they had no other option. It was the only sustenance that would support them. And in large numbers it was impossible to curb starvation for long.

Not that many of us care. Through the wars and time, almost all of his kind had become hell bent on destroying anything they could. Even he had fallen victim to the instinctual urge of destruction.

The warrior's eyes darkened in front of him. He felt nauseous. Once more, he fell into memory.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Report." Aisilon heard the commander's voice but his head was still back in the cell. It wasn't until Xiolh repeated the command that the words registered.

"The prisoner has an amazing will. She still has not said anything. She has resisted all forms of torture short of amputation and slow draining. The only response we have evoked is a gasp when we snapped her index and middle fingers of her left hand." His words were straight foreword despite the twirling of his mind.

Even the best of their officers would surely have offered up some word by now. He hadn't even been able to coax a name from her. After some deliberation, he had decided to address her as Vilindra. In legend, Vilindra was the first to oppose the Wraith's ways. The warrior died fighting against them. Regardless of her defiance, her courage and strength was almost admired by his kind. They had odd needs. They weren't ignorant.

"Fine.We'll move her to the ninth chamber. Lets see how she likes being a hand or two short." Xiolh growled. Before he could continue the sentence the cave they were based in started quaking...

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I see you're finally up." The major's voice was the first thing that greeted him when he awoke.

What an unpleasant thing to have to listen to day in and day out. He thought to himself, preferring the dizziness and burning thoughts. After all, at least he knew they would have a conclusion.

Before he thought spending a night with the original Lantean irritants was torture. Apparently he had never expected to be held by the oily species that seemed to be decedents of them. The original enemy were cynical and conceded enough as it was! Vilindra had been the only one of them that had any valor or sense of duty; a proper sense that was.

She thought not for 'her people,' not for herself, not for others, not for some unnamed god, but for the moral beliefs she held. She knew what possible outcomes could benefit the most significant, and when it was vital to ensure her own survival. No one had realized it at the time, but she was preserving herself that night she was captured. If she had told them what they wished, what would keep her from being a meal?

His arm directly above his wrist burned fiercely. He knew it was mostly mental. Still, he pulled up the leather that covered his arm to view the four crescent marks that traveled in a line up the sensitive skin. His opposite side started to ache. He knew what would lie there if he looked, but refrained from it. The major was already eying him curiously...

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Aisilon paced back and forth from the campfire to the closest tree. No sooner had his commander handed out orders, then the base became under attack. The Lanteans had launched a counter strike. Unfortunately, it worked. Aisilon had barely managed to escape with Vilindra, another prisoner, and an injured comrade.

He could smell the others coming closer. He had managed to hide the group deep within an inner forest city. They would follow the trail he didn't mean to leave behind.

The second of his kind had died half way to the spot. He had forced himself to consume the ragged and half-alive human minutes later. He needed all the energy he could get. Soon, though, they would be here. They could feel the remaining survivor.

His eyes darted over to the woman. She was as still as a stone. What is wrong with her! He wondered inwardly.

"I wouldn't be so smug if I were you, dear Vilindra." His hissed. "They'll find us soon. I might as well kill you now. My punishment will be no worse once I am outnumbered."

"Your not like your brethren." Aisilon blinked, shocked when he received an answer.

"WHAT?" He went over, attacking her throat to hold her head in a manner similar as Xiolh had. "Why would you say such filth?"

There was a long pause between them. Both of their breathing, heavy with concerns of their own, filled up the time. Each seemed to be challenging the other with looks.

"Because you haven't fed on me yet. You chose the weaker over the stronger. That is a rare decision." She finally spoke, her words like rain rushing into the stream.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

'Steve' looked across the room at the figure that had been placed before him. Even from the distance he could tell that the male was not well. Still, it was nourishment all the same.

He hadn't been as strong as Vilindra had been. He had given them his words. He had also given them a piece of nearly useless information. They had agreed. In his heart of hearts, he knew that even that woman would have come to a compromise sooner or later. He just didn't think he'd see it.

After all, she would rather die than to show a weak face. Inertly he had shown his weaker side. He yearned for life, even if he had to spend it in those wrenched bars. It was something almost all wished for when death came close. There are always exceptions for everything.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He shook the bars that surrounded him violently. His mind screamed as he attacked them, willing himself to be free. As much as he fought against the unforgiving metal he couldn't will the element to bend or melt out of shape. He growled deeply.

The captor had turned into the captured. Just as he has speculated, the Lantean search team had found them soon after Vilindra had spoken to him. They had surrounded him and cooed over her. Why they hadn't killed him on sight was lost to him. Instead, they seemed intent on transporting him to use as a lab rat.

From somewhere in the darkness the grass shuffled. Immediately Aisilon became alert. He scanned the area trying to find what had caused the disturbance in the otherwise calm night.

The wraith's wait wasn't long. Within moments of the sound a familiar face appeared. Her wounds had been bandaged and her hair combed, but it was still the woman he had held prisoner. Fleeting thoughts of revenge wandered past him as he prepared himself for an equal torture to what Xiolh had ordered for her.

Instead of pain he heard the switching of electric connections. When he turned his head, the entry to the cage was open. Her palm was on the access box. Aisilon didn't question his fortunes. Promptly, he cleared away from the box.

Free of the hideous containing contraption, Aisilon backed far away from both it and the woman who had freed him. He stood tense for a moment, glancing from the cell to Vilindra. He huffed once, watching her unchanging face.

"Why?"

"Because I am in your debt. You could have let your base collapse in on me." She replied.

"They'll kill you. You know that, don't you?" He wasn't concerned. At least he tried to tell himself that. He simply didn't see the point of someone throwing away their life for someone who would have slaughtered them.

For the first time in his life, he was smiled at. It wasn't a nasty smirk, or grin. It was a genuine smile.

"Well done, Warrior." Aisilon froze as another well-remembered voice came to him. When he looked over his shoulder, commander Xiolh stood waiting with five others.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Poison. The man he had replenished himself was laced with a toxin that had only been rumor until now. His life force felt like it was freezing. The synapses in his brain were palpitating, trying to rid themselves of this repellent.

He fell back on the floor, grasping at the threads of life. Before his irises, he saw his former Commander lining up four Lanteans with Vilindra at the end. Aisilon heard Xiolh order that he kill them all using a 'blade of trust.'

He heard the sound of flesh as he sliced through the necks of the first three. He saw them vanish like some of the previous captives. He felt his feet stick rigidly into the soil as he came to Vilindra. Calm, she swung her hair aside and gave him a clear shot. She had accepted her fate. He knew that she would not disappear as the other's had. She wouldn't take the easy route.

Recalling the weight of the sword in his hand, he remembered swinging it backwards at the last moment. He plunged it not into the snowy skin of the female, but into the corrupted gut of Xiolh. The others attacked, ending up in heaps besides the forgotten clothing of the vanished Lanteans.

It was Vilindra's turn to be shocked. Aisilon helped her up, releasing the ties that kept her hands back. In present day, the Wraith squirmed, his eyes dilating once more that day as he remembered her second smile that was struck out abruptly as a side dagger found it's way to her lung. Behind her, one Wraith lay half alive.

Squirming against the unforgiving floor that surrounded him, 'Steve', Aisilon, let out a final gasp. He felt her fingers dig into his arm as she fell backwards. He heard her choke something faintly. He remembered the pain as he slit his own side, beginning the elaborate lie of a rebellion that would allow him to live his old life. His last thoughts were of betrayal.

"What did he say?" One of the guards whispered to the other as he watched the Wraith fade.

"It was just a gasp." The other replied.

But the light that surrounded the creature's being said different. It wasn't the scream of the thousands he had killed. It wasn't the snapping of orders. It wasn't a pretty face or a seductive female.

'Jinivia. My name.' was heard as a smile echoed throughout him.