CHAPTER 4

The three men in the briefing room looked at the Asgard in surprise. It was both like and unlike the Asgard that they had encountered previously. It was the same height and had the same face-shape and eyes as the other Asgard they had met. But, it wasn't gray-colored; it was a very light pink. And, it was wearing a long golden cape–the first clothing of any sort that they had seen on an Asgard.

General Hammond rose to his feet, "And you are?" He asked his voice a mixture of unbelief and politeness.

The Asgard smiled and made a sound not unlike laughter. Again, all three men, were taken aback. Never had they seen so much emotion expressed on an Asgard face and never in their wildest dreams had they even thought that the Asgard could laugh. "I see that I have surprised you," it began, still smiling, a small smile to match the small mouth. "Let me assure you that I am Asgard and that I am your friend. My name is Sif. I am life companion to Thor." And with this, the Asgard dropped into something quite similar to a curtsy.

Jack eyes widened, "You're Thor's wife?"

The Asgard straightened and looked at Jack warmly, "Yes, Jack O'Neill. Wife would be your closest term for understanding. I am Thor's life companion. And," she added addressing all of them, "I have come to offer you my assistance."

General Hammond had regained his composure. "Welcome. It is a pleasure to meet you, Sif. Can we get you anything? Food? Drink? Would you like to have a seat?"

Sif smiled. "Thank you for your attentions, General Hammond, but they are unnecessary. I am afraid that we must hurry." She looked pointedly at Jack, "Your life companion is in grave jeopardy."

Jack choked and coughed. Teal'c quickly brought him a glass of water that he ignored. "My what?" Jack finally blurted when he had some control over his vocal cords.

Sif seemed unfazed by his outburst. "Your Samantha Carter. I understand from Thor that she is your companion, that she walks and works at your side, that she provides you balance. Is that not correct?"

"Oh," Jack muttered, "when you put it like that, then it is correct. Major Carter is my second." His composure fully returned, he addressed the General as he added, "She's a very valuable member of my team." George smiled in what Jack assumed was understanding if not open approval.

Sif smiled, "Very well then. If you wish to save her, we must hurry."

General Hammond began, "I need a little more information before I can authorize any mission to rescue Major Carter..."

Sif interrupted, "I am sorry, General, but we just don't have the time." And with that she and the other members of SG-1 disappeared from the briefing room in a flash of light.

Hammond stared on dumbfounded. In the distance, he could hear a phone ringing. Then, Sgt. Harriman ran into the briefing room. "General, Daniel Jackson just disappeared from the infirmary."

SG1

It was a Go'auld. Sam's naquada-enhanced senses recoiled as he entered the room. Tall, golden, handsome, and full of swagger. The women around her bowed low, but she did not. She would not. I'm in the harem of a Go'auld, she surmised with disgust. His eyes swept over the women, a cocky smile firmly fixed on his lips. They stopped when they saw her, "Aw," he exclaimed and then said something in the language that she could not understand. The matron beside her stood and guided Sam to her feet. Then, two guards flanked her grasping her arms. The Go'auld smiled at her, "My new bride," he said in clear English, "Come with me." Then, he turned and strode purposefully from the room.

Sam felt herself lifted off the ground and carried between the two guards. She could struggle, she thought, but that would probably be a waste of energy. She still didn't know enough to make an escape attempt. These two are Jaffa, she realized, as she relaxed enough to let her senses work. The Go'auld had some Jaffa, then, which would increase the difficulty of her escape. But, she thought with determination, nothing is impossible. And, the Go'auld's use of the word "bride" strengthened her resolve to fight for her freedom. She just had to find a way.

The Go'auld led them across the courtyard into another ornate chamber that was clearly a bedroom. Carter was now terribly afraid, though her expression didn't reveal it. She couldn't help but sigh in relief when the Go'auld seated himself in a throne-like chair and indicated to his guards that she should be placed on the floor before him. There were four additional guards in the room, but they seemed to be human.

The Go'auld addressed her. "Major Samantha Carter of the Tauri, my new bride, my name is Thrym. I am the Lord of this moon and its people. It will be your honor to wed me tomorrow morning in a ceremony before the Yotuns. You are their gift to me."

Sam scowled, but did not answer. Her eyes burned with hatred. Thrym eyed her with desire. She was beautiful, this one. And strong. For a minor Go'auld, he had an incredibly effective network of spies, and so knew that she was a warrior of great repute among her people. He also knew that she was dangerous to him because of her powerful friends and allies. He had considered releasing her when his guards told him of her capture by the townspeople, but upon seeing her he knew that he couldn't free her. He wanted to possess her, to own her, to break her. In his mind, he considered hundreds of cruel pleasures.

"Speak, my bride. Tell me, are you not honored?" His voice and expression were haughty. His eyes were steel.

Sam just glared at him in angry silence. Thyrm laughed, then quicker than she could see, he arose and backhanded her across the face sending her to the floor. Her right check-bone fired in pain. He grabbed her roughly by the chin and pulled her face to his. "Do not defy me, my bride. There is no reward in my displeasure, only pain." And he kissed her, forcing his lips on hers and his tongue in her mouth. Sam struggled against him, kicking, hitting, and wriggling. She felt the Jaffa flank her again, securing her arms and body between them.

The intrusive kiss was broken. Thrym's face was only inches from her own. In anger and defiance, she spit into his eyes. But, instead of seeing hatred or anger in his face, she saw only amusement. And then she saw the torture stick.