AN: Thank you to Cathain Nottingham and LadyBozi for inspiring me to write fanfic! I dont have a beta, so all mistakes are mine and I take full responsibility for them.
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but my ideas.
In Sickness and in Health
Thack! Thack! Thack!
Dancing away from his sparring partner and her blistering attack, Ronon wiped the sweat from out of his eyes. Looking across the room, a concerned frown crinkled his forehead as he noticed that something was definitely wrong.
"Teyla?" Ronon said, his deep voice rumbling softly throughout the room.
She held up a hand to delay him for a moment. With her feet splayed wide for extra balance, hair plastered to her forehead and chest heaving with the effort to draw breath, Teyla looked the picture of exhaustion. While she fought to regain her breath, Ronon studied her through hooded eyes.
Crossing the room silently but swiftly he reached out and gently raised her chin, forcing her to look up at him. Noting the circles under her eyes he said, "You are not well, Teyla. You need to rest."
Teyla pulled away from him, a determined light shining through the exhaustion he could clearly see in her eyes.
"I am fine, Ronon. I wish to continue," Teyla said, her voice wavering the tiniest bit as she tried to hide her exhaustion. Looking up at him through the hair falling over her face, she watched Ronons eyes narrow in suspicion. Fighting to regain some of her composure, Teyla plastered a not-so-convincing smile on her face and straightened.
"Perhaps you wish to stop sparring because you are afraid you may be beaten by me?" Teyla said in a sweetly taunting voice. Realising too late that it was probably not the best idea to taunt a man who had the air of a dangerous, beautiful feline and moved like one, she just waited.
Ronon studied her a moment longer, his dark eyes telling nothing of what he was thinking. Finally he shrugged non-committedly and stepped backward to the middle of the room. Taking up a defensive stance, he watched her make her way towards him, twirling her sticks with a slow rhythm. Falling into the rhythm, Ronon was momentarily startled by Teyla's sudden attack. Recovering swiftly, he soon had her retreating across the room. Executing a series of swift strikes and feints, Ronon spun her around and pinned her sticks against her chest. With Teyla's back pressed flush against his chest, he could feel her straining to draw breath.
Bending slightly, he whispered in her ear "Teyla, you are not well. You need to rest." He felt her exhaustion as keenly as he felt his own body's reaction to the beautiful woman encircled in his arms. A distant part of his mind wondered at his cloudy feelings for this woman.
Teyla sighed in defeat and he felt some of the tension drain away from her shoulders. She sagged against his chest, and Ronon tightened his arms around her. Refusing to think of how nice to felt to hold her, he wiped her hair away from her face. In doing so he felt hot and flushed her face was. Deeply concerned, he pressed a hand firmly against her cheek.
"Teyla, do you realise you have a fever?" Ronon asked in a deceptively calm voice. Inwardly, he was screaming 'Are you foolish woman? You are a warrior! You know better then to stress your body when sick!'
"I am just tired Ronon," Teyla said exhaustedly. Easing out of his embrace she turned to face him, acutely aware of how comfortable she felt within the protection of his arms. "You are correct. I just need to rest for a while." Teyla stated.
Gathering her things she bowed to Ronon, officially ending the sparring session. Turning to the door, Teyla wavered on her feet, overcome with dizziness. Reaching for anything with which to steady herself, Teyla had enough time to appreciate being in Ronon's arms again before darkness claimed her.