Carter thought that it was a pretty pathetic excuse for a plan, but had to acknowledge that it was the only one they had. It quickly became apparent, however, that they weren't going to be given the chance to implement it.
After their escort delivered their allotment of paste-flavored breakfast on the following day, they stood aside as they had the morning before. When Colonel O'Neill attempted to exit the cell, however, one of the guards stepped forward to bar his path. "Only her," he said, indicating Carter.
Carter exchanged an anxious glance with Teal'c and Daniel. "See, now, that's just not going to work for us," O'Neill said.
"The Basileus was explicit," the guard replied, "only the woman has been summoned. The rest of you will begin work in the mine."
"Uh…is there any way we could talk to Polytus directly?" Daniel asked.
"He has no wish to see any of you but the woman. Stand back and let her pass."
No one moved. Teal'c's temple was throbbing as his jaw clenched and unclenched. It was the only outward sign of his agitation, but to those who knew him well it was a dangerous sign. "We will not allow you to take her," he stated.
"If you do not," the guard replied pragmatically, "you will be injured or killed, and she will still be taken."
Colonel O'Neill held out a palm in entreaty, stepping closer to both of the large men. "Hold on, now, Teal'c, let's not get crazy. The man's got a good point. Let's just all…"
He cut off abruptly, jabbing a sudden, vicious elbow into the guard's windpipe that sent him to his knees choking and clutching at his throat. The next guard had already taken his place, swinging his staff in to deliver a crushing blow to O'Neill's skull. But Teal'c caught the lethal end of the staff and yanked, pulling the second guard off balance and further into the cell. He landed directly in Carter's path and – despite the extreme muscle fatigue she felt from undergoing the Agonis the day before – she didn't hesitate to smash her kneecap into his face. She felt the snap of bone and cartilage and a wetness saturating her pant leg that told her she had broken his nose.
O'Neill had leaped over the first fallen man and made it into the corridor, where he tried to press their advantage. His biggest hindrance, however, was a distinct lack of fighting room. Both the cell and the hallway outside were close quarters; tiny, cramped spaces that did not lend themselves to solid kicks or fancy maneuvers. Also, the rest of his team was currently bottlenecked inside the cell, where they were unable to provide backup.
From too far away Carter watched as her commanding officer was overpowered by the two remaining guards. Their bulk did them justice here, where they had the advantage just by taking up more space. Carter and Daniel tried to get to him, but the first guard had regained his feet and tackled Teal'c directly in their path.
Out in the corridor, O'Neill went down. Carter's heart leapt into her throat as she craned to see him, but he was lost in the scuffle. Fearing what would happen to him, fearing grievous injuries to any member of her team, she did the only thing she could think of.
"Stop!" Carter called out desperately, and was a little surprised when everyone complied. The faces of the two guards in the hallway were turned toward her expectantly, and Teal'c had paused in the beating he was currently administering to the guard O'Neill had sucker punched. His clenched fist hung suspended in the moment before painful delivery. From the floor, where he had been grappling with the bloody-faced guard with the broken nose, Daniel looked up at her with a surprised expression and his glasses comically askew.
"Everyone stop," she repeated more quietly. "I'll go with you, and I won't fight you. Just let my friends go."
Teal'c was the first to comply. After a long moment in which he evaluated the situation, he reluctantly unclenched his fist – if not his jaw – and moved off of the downed guard, releasing him. Daniel absently straightened his glasses as he stood, and a moment later Colonel O'Neill was unceremoniously plucked up from the hallway floor and shoved back into the cell.
Carter could see a gash above his left eye, nearly on top of the scar that that eyebrow already sported. A trickle of blood dripped red tears onto his cheek, which he rubbed away with an irritated swipe of the back of his hand. He stepped toward her angrily. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Major?"
"Sir," she said quietly, hoping to forestall a dressing down, "there was no way. Not with us cooped up in here like this. We've got to wait for a better opportunity."
Carter looked at him meaningfully, hoping that he would remember the wording of his orders the night before. "I'll keep my eyes open."
He looked back at her silently for a long, assessing moment, and she could see his unwillingness to let her go. She knew how much he hated for any member of his team to become separated in a hostile situation. It wasn't that he didn't trust them to take care of themselves, but he always felt better when they were all present and safely accounted for. In that respect he was like a mother hen keeping an eye on all her chicks. Carter knew this about him, and could see that Colonel O'Neill understood all too well what he'd be sending her off to face, alone, and it went against everything in him to allow it. His dark eyes were worried, haunted and full of unease.
Moved, as she always was, by the amount of emotion the man could convey though just one look, Carter found herself wanting to comfort him. She smiled faintly and laid a hand on his arm, hoping that it would help him. But they both knew her reassurance was a hollow one; she could make no promises about returning unharmed.
After a prolonged hesitation, O'Neill finally nodded once, slowly, without ever breaking eye contact. It was Carter who finally looked away as she cast a lingering glance at Daniel and Teal'c, and then followed the guards from the cell.
Carter was taken to the throne room for the third time in as many days. By this point she was getting pretty damn tired of seeing it, and the man seated in the chair atop the dais. Actually, she was just damn tired, period.
She'd awoken that morning to a new torture, as all of her muscles screamed in protest of their treatment the day before. Each step now was a labor; she felt as if she'd been severely beaten. Carter had managed to hide most of her fatigue from her teammates, but had honestly half expected to see yellow and purple bruises mottling her skin when she examined herself for injuries. She'd been incredibly surprised by just how few there were, and attributed that fact to Colonel O'Neill, who she remembered cradling her protectively for the vast majority of the time she was inflicted by the Agonis.
Keeping that warming thought close to her heart, Carter stood before the dais and faced Polytus at parade rest. She gave every impression of attentiveness, but her eyes raked the room, missing nothing. With a critical eye she scanned the plush furnishings, looking for hidden passageways or trap doors in the floor that might lead to underground tunnels.
Her penetrating gaze returned to the dais, which – as it had been on the previous two days – was framed by great, billowing lengths of a material that reminded Carter of mosquito nets. They were so thick that the walls to either side of the dais were completely hidden from view. The material extended also to behind the throne, although Carter could see what looked like a slit in the fabric just behind the Basileus. Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she filed the image away in her brain.
Polytus had been speaking to a servant upon Carter's arrival; now the servant moved to stand beside his throne and the ruler looked at her eagerly. She could feel his hungry gaze on her almost physically…not so much sexual in nature, as fanatically obsessive. In any case, she was still an object to this man, which automatically set her blood to boiling and made it difficult to confront him without anger.
His eyes shot immediately to her blood-drenched BDU pants and alarm crossed his face. "What has happened? Who has injured you?"
He looked to her guards angrily. "I ordered that she was not to be touched! You will all suffer for this disobedience!"
"They followed your orders. It's not my blood," Carter said, feeling the somewhat irrational urge to stick up for her escort. They were on opposite sides here, sure, and she had just smashed one of their faces in, but they probably hadn't been given much of a choice, either. And they had given fair warning to Teal'c that resistance would result in injury. Most importantly, once she'd agreed to go with them, they hadn't continued to harm the members of her team.
There was a beat while everyone in the room looked at Carter askance. The largest of the guards – a beefy, thick-necked hulk with close-cropped black hair – had an indiscernible expression on his face as he watched her.
Then the bloody-faced guard recovered himself and stepped forward. "Basileus. The injury was mine. The prisoners resisted."
Anger melted away into faint amusement. "And this woman was able to best you?"
The bloody-faced guard stiffened further, looking uncomfortable. Already offended by the ruler's derisive dismissal of her ability to fight because of her gender, Carter once again felt the absurd inclination to come to the guard's defense. "If you'd come down off your power trip and face me one on one, I'd best you, too," she promised.
The Basileus shook his head ruefully. "If you would only agree to my request, none of this violence would be necessary."
"Your request?" Carter repeated incredulously. "The last time I checked, a request is when you ask something. You've done nothing but demand since I met you. Don't act like this is our fault. We came here in peace, to explore and trade. You began the hostilities when you took us prisoner."
"Perhaps we can yet come to a mutually beneficial arrangement," Polytus suggested. "I was just about to partake of my morning meal. Will you join me?"
Carter opened her mouth to object on principle, but then another thought struck her and she changed tactics in mid stride. "I will…if you also have some sent down to my team."
The Basileus smiled broadly, as if his conquest were now all but assured. "You see? We have agreed upon our first negotiation. See to it," he said to his servant, who nodded deeply and exited the room.
Polytus rose from his throne and descended the dais. He approached Carter and took her hand as if he were entitled; as if she were already one of his possessions.
Carter gritted her teeth and allowed him to lead her through the double doors, sparing one last fleeting glance at the slit in the fabric behind the throne.
"Fair's fair, Daniel," O'Neill said as he swung his pickaxe again. "You've gotten out of all the hard work every time we've been sent to the mines. The first time, you even got dinner and everything."
"Yes, well," Daniel countered, using the sharp end of his own tool to pry away a loose rock, "let's not forget that I was slowly having my soul sucked out by the sarcophagus. It's not like it was all sunshine and daisies, where I was."'
"More like steak and potatoes," O'Neill grumbled, and Daniel knew that he was taking his frustration and worry about Carter out on the rocks. "Man, what I wouldn't give for a cold beer, about now."
Next to him, Teal'c swung his pickaxe with the regularity of a metronome. The Jaffa seemed indefatigable, earning no small amount of sidelong glances from the Nisian workers around them. "O'Neill," he said, never breaking his rhythm, "would alcohol not dehydrate you further?"
"That's not the point, T," O'Neill declared, pausing for a moment as he regained his breath. "The point is, it would be cold. And refreshing. And did I mention cold?"
"Water," Daniel said.
Without turning around, O'Neill shook his head and took another swing. "Nah. Water's just not the same."
"No," Daniel tried again, "we're being given water." He tugged on O'Neill's elbow to get his attention. When the Colonel turned around, Daniel indicated the visitor who stood on the worn dirt path next to them, pushing a small, wheeled cart that contained a bucket of water. She was a small-boned woman, appearing petite and delicate inside the rough tunic she wore. Her hair was dark, and long enough to have warranted being wound into the functional bun on the back of her head. By her side was the small form of the boy they had seen each of the previous two days; he held a cup of water out to Daniel.
Daniel took it with a smile and a nod. "Thank you," he said. "It's Aziz, isn't it?"
The boy nodded shyly, glancing quickly back at the woman. She smiled tentatively and offered cups of water to Teal'c and O'Neill.
"Is this what you do?" Daniel asked, waving a hand over the cart. "You bring water to the workers?"
The woman bobbed her head to indicate agreement, before meeting his eyes again. "I am Thalia. Aziz is my son."
"I'm Daniel; this is Jack O'Neill and Teal'c. Thank you for sending Aziz with the water, yesterday," Daniel said. "It was appreciated."
"How is the woman?" Thalia wanted to know.
Daniel exchanged a worried glance with Teal'c, but Colonel O'Neill wouldn't meet his eyes. Daniel turned back to Thalia. "She's with Polytus right now."
The skin around Thalia's eyes creased as her lips tightened. The expression was a poor attempt at a smile that ended up more as a wince. "I hope that she agrees to be his queen," she said. "Otherwise, she will suffer the Agonis again."
O'Neill handed his empty cup back to Thalia perfunctorily, as if somehow she were partly responsible for Carter's torture. "She'll never agree," he said flatly.
Daniel flinched at O'Neill's hard tone. "Actually, I've been thinking maybe she should."
"What?" the Colonel demanded.
"Well, I was thinking about your idea. The one you had the day we got here. You know, with the…er…oven?" Daniel shot a glance at Thalia and Aziz, still standing beside them. "Maybe we should try it. I think it's worth the risk…I hated having to see her go through that. I don't think I realized how bad it was going to be."
O'Neill turned away again to take a vicious swing at the face of the rock wall. "Yeah, well, she's tough," he said, not fooling Daniel at all with his indifference as he took another swing. "She can handle it."
"On the contrary, O'Neill," Teal'c interjected, "It will become more painful with each application. We should not have let the guards take her."
"No choice, T," O'Neill said, pounding away at the rocks like he could shatter the foundation of their prison and lead them all to safety. "She knew what she was doing."
Thalia had followed the conversation with a look of confusion on her face. Daniel could see that she didn't understand half of what had been said. Suddenly he felt bad for the less-than-polite treatment she'd received from O'Neill. He smiled in apology. "Where we come from, what Polytus is doing is wrong. It wouldn't be permitted. We were trying to think of ways to convince him to stop."
"He will not," Thalia said. "I am sorry for the pain he will inflict upon her, but I cannot help but hope that it will make her agree to stay."
That got O'Neill's attention again, and he spun around with an angry glint in his eyes. It was the same look he always got when he felt that behavior exhibited by other cultures had just crossed the line from "who cares what these wacky aliens do?" to "what the hell is wrong with these people?", and Daniel just knew that the Colonel was about to launch into one of his holier-than-thou tirades.
He opened his mouth to try and head it off before it got started, but Thalia – oblivious – was going on in a small, quiet voice that forced all three men to be silent in order to hear her. "She seemed kind. I believe that she must have a good heart."
O'Neill paused, withholding his judgement for the moment, listening.
"An uncaring woman would not wave at a small child she did not know," Thalia said, her voice rising with hope. "Perhaps, if she agrees to be Queen, her compassion will temper the Basileus' rule, and he would be more merciful."
Daniel cast a quick glimpse at O'Neill, whose eyes were downcast now, concealing his expression. Daniel was just as familiar with this tactic as he was with the older man's moods. The Colonel was a man with a very expressive face, which he used primarily to enhance his sarcastic remarks. But years of military training had enabled him to school his features into a nearly impenetrable, impassive mask, when needed. It was this distinct lack of expression that O'Neill exhibited when being questioned by the enemy, when it was necessary to concentrate on a delicate task, or when he felt there was no room for emotions. In fact, he was so seemingly adept at turning off his feelings on command that Daniel had, on several occasions in the past, been under the mistaken impression that O'Neill just didn't have any.
The last five years had taught him better, though, and he recognized the head-ducking procedure for what it was. The one, single thing that could provide a window into Jack O'Neill's emotions were his eyes. Given enough time to prepare, he could make even them go flat and hard, such as the time he'd had to go undercover in order to expose the rogue NID operation that was stealing technology from Earth's allies. He'd fooled them all then, because he'd had to. But it took time; he needed to prepare. Because at the core, Colonel O'Neill was a man of intense convictions. Daniel knew that he felt just as much as anyone, if not more. And right now Daniel knew that Thalia's perception of the kind of person Carter was had struck a nerve in the Colonel. It had made him feel things that he didn't think he should, and so – in classic Jack O'Neill fashion – he hid it from those around him until he could get it under control.
Daniel also looked down, partly out of respect for O'Neill's privacy, and partly to reflect yet again on unfair it was that this man, who'd already lost and given up so much for others on a consistent basis, wasn't permitted to have the one thing he really wanted.
The "thing" between Carter and O'Neill, as Daniel had come to think of it, had been present for a long while…so tangible sometimes that it almost felt like a fifth member of the team. Daniel could recall innumerable occasions just in the last year alone where their mutual feelings swam close to the surface, without ever quite breaching. It was a known quantity; everyone was aware of it, but no one spoke of it. Least of all Jack or Sam. Both were too firmly immersed in the military aspect of their personas to allow their own wants or needs to take precedence.
Daniel felt irritated by them, at times, for letting rules on some piece of paper somewhere stand between them, but mostly he just felt sorry for them both. He'd felt sorry for Sam when she'd worked herself to the brink of exhaustion for three months, breaking the laws of physics in order to bring O'Neill back from Edora. His heart had broken at the look on her face when O'Neill brushed her off, having grown attached to the woman, Laira, and the life that he'd built there. Daniel had winced in sympathy each time a new man was attracted to Carter's brilliance and beauty, and O'Neill was forced to pretend that it didn't bother him.
He wished that he could somehow make it better for them, but the problems weren't really external. The problem was that each of them possessed a selflessness that simply wouldn't allow them to give in and take the easy way. They were both needed right now, right where they were, and they knew it. All else would have to come second. It was just who they were.
Daniel's thoughts were interrupted by a creaky, crunching sound. He looked over to see one of the palace servants approaching them, propelling a cart of her own that shuddered over the gravelly path. This one, however, was laden with various foodstuffs, including meats and cheeses and fruit, and something that resembled scrambled eggs.
The servant pushing the cart came to a stop beside them, bowing to the members of SG-1. "Upon the request of our future queen, my lord Basileus has commanded that you be provided with this food."
She bowed again as Aziz and Thalia's eyes widened in identical expressions of amazement. Daniel sadly realized that it had probably been a good long while – if ever – since they'd seen (much less eaten) food such as this. He looked at O'Neill, then at Teal'c, and they both looked back at him with the same thought mirrored in their eyes. All three men turned back to the servant as one. "Give it to the workers," O'Neill said.
The servant looked startled, and the guards nearby tensed as if they might intervene. But as O'Neill snagged something from the cart that looked a lot like grapes, then handed them to Aziz, the guards relaxed. O'Neill ruffled the boy's hair with a small smile, and Daniel poured a cup of liquid from the amphora. He sniffed it experimentally, deciding from its aroma that it was diluted wine, as he'd expected. He offered the cup to Thalia, who took it with a large, bright smile. "You see?" she said, joy in her expression. "Already she makes things better!"
As Daniel looked out over the mass of workers crowding around them to taste a sample of an unattainable life, his smile didn't quite reach his eyes.
a/n: Thanks to everyone who's taken the time to review, so far…I really appreciate the feedback! I thought I'd take the opportunity to answer a couple of questions:
1)A couple people have asked why Sam just doesn't say she's already married. Well, that topic actually will be broached in Chapter 5. There's a genuine reason for the story, but the real reason is that I hate writing things that have already been written splendidly by someone else. In this case, jojo6 has written two fabulous stories along just those lines (S/J oriented, natch), called "Introducing Mr. and Mrs. O'Neill" and "Marteen". I recommend that everyone go read them. Now ;)
2) Regarding the shippiness content…I apologize to those of you who desire a more general story than a J/S – centric one. While I do enjoy devoting time and thought into making my stories viable and interesting, I must confess that at their core they are romance-gratification fics. You can be assured that there will be lots of focus on Jack and Sam as the fic progresses.
Okay…see, this is why I don't do author's notes. Thanks again for reading, everyone. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and the next will be up tomorrow.
