Sorry for the delay! The holidays just put me behind. The story is actually done, except for being beta read and having the changes made. So ... two more parts and an epilogue to go after this.

Part Four

Cold.

She was cold, and her left arm felt strange.

Teyla opened her eyes, and immediately shut them again. The room's light wasn't that bright, but it still sent a sharp spike through her head.

She kept perfectly still, remembering what happened with the men in Cirsla. She performed a quick inventory. Massive headache, queasy stomach, sore right arm. She had been dropped onto her left side, cutting off the circulation to her arm. But nothing felt broken, just cold.

Then again, she had not yet dared to move.

Slowly, without opening her eyes, she shifted her left arm to the side, rolling smoothly onto her back. So far, so good. Her left arm started to tingle as feeling returned to it, and Teyla began shifting her legs slightly. Nothing seemed to be injured.

After a few deep breaths, she tried again to open her eyes. Her head still hurt, but it wasn't quite as sore as before. Still controlling her breathing, she looked around without moving her head. She was in a small room of stone. A set of shelves along one wall was empty, and a stand nearby held the lamp that lit the room.

Cautiously, Teyla turned her head to see the rest of the room. Her stomach rebelled a little, but a few deep breaths helped keep the nausea under control. There was little else to see in the room other than the door, which she could not examine from the cot she was sprawled on.

Ignoring her headache and queasy stomach, Teyla pushed herself into a sitting position. Before she could get to her feet, the door opened and a man came in.

He was tall and wiry, perhaps in his twenties, with brown hair that fell onto his angular face. He glanced around the room and then behind himself before closing the door and leaning on it.

"You're Teyla Emmagen."

She started to nod, then winced at the pain. "I am." She studied him a moment. "You are the son of Kell."

He looked surprised but nodded. "Galen Kell."

As he continued to stare at her, she wondered what she was supposed to say. Nice to meet you?

"You ... did you kill him? My father?"

"I did not kill your father," she said.

"But you were there."

"Yes," she answered, leaving it at that. He obviously knew about Ronon, or he would not have been asking for him in Cirsla, but Teyla would tell him nothing more. She tried the lecturing voice that she used on Athosian children -- as well as her own teammates sometimes. "Galen, you should not have taken me. My friends will come for me, and you could be injured or killed when that happens. Perhaps if you let me --"

"Ssshhhh!" Galen held up a hand and moved away from the door. "We don't have time --"

The door burst open, revealing a tall brunette wearing black pants and a scarlet tunic. Her hair was clipped back in a low ponytail, emphasizing the sharpness of her thin face and features. She bore a slight resemblance to Galen, but Teyla thought she looked a bit like an animal her people once hunted on Athos. The woman, flanked by two large, well-armed men, smirked at Teyla. Her mocking smile immediately twisted into a scowl as soon she saw Teyla's visitor.

"What are you doing here, Galen?" The smile returned. "Ohhhh, have you come to rescue the captive? Think again, brother."

"It wasn't her, Lee," Galen said quietly. "You know it wasn't. It was --"

"Ronon," the woman interrupted. "Oh, yes, I know it was Ronon. And don't think I didn't know you were on Cirsla, trying to warn him."

"I was only --"

"You were only doing what I allowed you to," she snapped, stepping toward Teyla. "Don't forget who runs things around here, Galen. I could have been angry that you were going behind my back to warn Ronon, but instead, I used it to my advantage. Just as father would have done. At least one of his children isn't a disappointment to him."

She laughed as her brother winced, then nodded at one of her bodyguards. "Take him to the house. And, brother? Don't leave the house unless I tell you. I suspect we'll have visitors soon, and I would hate for you to get hurt."

Galen shrugged off the guard but headed for the door, casting a regretful look back at Teyla. The guard followed him out, and the second man closed the door behind him.

Teyla sat up as straight as possible and met the woman's gaze steadily, despite her pounding head. Clearly she and Ronon had been mistaken about a few things. This woman seemed to have planned things perfectly to trap Ronon. Teyla knew he would come. And he would no doubt be accompanied by John and probably Rodney. She wasn't about to sit around and wait for rescue, though.

"I," the woman said importantly, "am Analee Kell, daughter of Avalair Kell, the man you killed. I realize you didn't pull the trigger, but you are just as responsible for his death as that bastard Ronon."

She started to pace the room, twisting her hands together. "He was like a son to my father. More a son than Galen ever was. He could have been family; father would have given him anything, even me for a wife. Instead, what has he become?"

As Analee ranted, striding back and forth in the small space, Teyla watched the guard watch his boss. He ran a large hand over his grubby beard, and his small eyes drifted down her body, lingering at her breasts before focusing on her hips. Teyla wanted to laugh. This bodyguard was certainly enamored of the body he was supposed to be guarding. The prisoner, however, was left unwatched -- with unbound hands.

Teyla waited until Analee had turned her back, then pushed off the cot and rammed a fist into the guard's crotch. His eyes bugged out and he bent over, close enough for Teyla to kick him in the face. Another kick sent him flying into the wall, before he slumped to the floor. She spun to take out Analee, gasping as she felt another dart hit her in the neck.

"Fool," Analee snarled, punching Teyla just before she blacked out.

Lying to Elizabeth sucked.

John sat at the conference room table, trying to ignore the faces that Rodney was making. He'd only told Elizabeth that an enemy from Ronon's past had heard the Satedan was alive and had grabbed Teyla to use as bait. He conveniently left out the whole murdering-in-cold-blood aspect to the story. Elizabeth would no doubt want to question Ronon about it, and it would slow them down at the very least. At the worst, she'd send Ronon away from Atlantis before they could bring Teyla back.

He was starting to see Teyla's point in keeping this from him. Ignorance was bliss. Or, at least, it was much less complicated.

Elizabeth, who probably should still be in bed, was instead pacing the room. She stopped and rested her hands on the back of a chair. "Okay, Lorne's team will take over the Cirslan talks. We have at least two other teams set to gate out today; we can postpone their missions until we find Teyla. Did Ronon say how long it would take to find the address?"

John shifted in his seat. "He didn't think it'd take long. Look, Elizabeth, I think it would be better if Ronon and I went alone."

Rodney cleared his throat.

John ignored him. "This guy who has Teyla is just after Ronon; they're going to be expecting him to show up. We'd have a better chance at surprising them if it's just the two of us."

"Three," Rodney piped up. "I'm going, too."

"Rodney, you're --"

"Going," Rodney said, giving him a look that spoke volumes. Volumes along the lines of Unless you want me to tell Elizabeth everything, you'll agree with me. "Teyla's my teammate, too."

"It's a covert op," John argued weakly, knowing he was going to cave.

"I can be covert," Rodney said.

"Yeah, covert like a 12-piece marching band."

"Gentlemen!" Elizabeth leaned forward on the table. She looked pale; John hoped she wasn't going to throw up on him again. "I still think a couple of teams as backup ..."

"Really, just the ... three of us will be enough," John said, glancing at Rodney. "And should you even be out of bed?"

"You are looking a little tired," Rodney said, putting on an innocent face at John's look. "What? That's basically what you just told her. We're just concerned about your health, Elizabeth."

Dr. Weir sighed. "If you're sure this is the way you want it."

"We'll have Teyla back by the time you're back on your feet," John said, hoping he was telling the truth. "All we need is the address, and Ronon will be back with that soon."

As if by magic, the gate started to dial. It was Ronon, and John could tell he'd gotten the Belsan address. He ran down the steps, followed by Rodney and Elizabeth.

"Got it," Ronon confirmed, waving a scrap of paper.

"Great. Let's gear up. Rodney?"

"I'm coming," the scientist said impatiently. "Do I have to write it on my forehead?"

"It'd be kind of funny if you did."

Ronon shook his head, then focused on Dr. Weir. "You all right?" he asked.

She sighed, irritated. "Okay, fine, I'm sick. I look horrible. I'm going to bed. Wake me when you get Teyla back."

As she walked away, Ronon looked confused. "What'd I say?"

TBC