Rituals...
There are dozens of little things,
Things which simply are and we do not notice until we are missing them.
In my case I'm sitting in a warm bath the servants had filled in for me, the now empty ceramic jars sitting on the side of the wall, only two more of them steaming a little as I regarded myself with detached numbness.
I had a large white patch of scar tissue on my elbow: now there's only smooth skin and the mere memory of how my cousin shoved me from the swing isn't anchored to anything anymore. Would it be good or bad to forget? I don't know.
There's no overall wrongness, no feeling as if one was "wearing an ill-fitting suit", thousands of years of genetic memory allowing me to look at symbionts who had token male hosts, female hosts or even completely alien ones gave me all the needed information to stand up and walk my way out of the Queens sight without embarrassing myself.
The overall more obvious differences were….mere of a mere curiosity to me than anything else, but as I sat in the water and soaked it in with delight, I found all the little things, the little signs of wear which showed that the body was: second hand, so to speak.
Reaching down I traced my index finger along a white scar going from just below my chest to the other side of my belly: a thin white scar contrasting with the tanned skin around it.
Those were really disconcerting: they were also anchors for memories: in this case how the tusk of a wild boar had nearly ended the life of my host when she had ridden out for a hunt with her father and her two elder brothers.
There was a disturbing quality to the memories of my host: they were fresh.
Where I could review the memories my genes offered me without actively taking part in them, without investing too much information's into them and most importantly: differentiating between me and my ancestor, I could not with the memories of my host.
I was her in this episodes and it was disturbing to feel myself shift once again to accommodate with another live changing experience: lets simply hope that I wouldn't end up like her in character too, but I should not continue thinking about my host, what she had done is irrelevant now.
Reaching for the border of the pool, I grab a small crystal mirror, one of the cheaper variants: for Goa'uld that is. Holding it up I stare into a strangers face and after checking that none of the servants had stayed behind I stick out my tongue.
Not really sure why but….it kind of was the first thing which came into my mind and I guess I might have been a bit miffed if my host had a piercing or something, would have been weird….until the genetic memory once again kills all novelty from that experience.
Still, getting comfortable with a new face was something it left to me, so I pulled my tongue back and schooled my face in a neutral fashion as I simply regarded it for a moment.
Where to begin?
Let's start with the eyes, after always having brown eyes stare back at me for a little less than two decades, I found myself the proud, quite, owner of two green eyes with still carefully plucked eyelashes. Not that I noticed that right away, it was simply another memory of my host, when the servants prepared her only a few days ago and she was exposed to the whole kingdoms worth of cosmetics.
Drifting off again.
Further down came a rather beautiful nose if I'm allowed to be so vain: it wasn't one of the small and cuddly kind, but it had rather gently arched back and was slightly upturned, giving it some sharpness which fit perfectly to the sleek cheeks, giving the face a slightly aristocratic look.
Isn't it wonderful to see successful breeding in its result?
Pursing my lips lightly I shifted my face from side to side, looking at them and smiling lightly: god were they thin! Another one of this small, or not so small differences: it feels slightly different when closing my mouth or when pressing my lips against the mirror.
Rather at odds with the care which was applied to my eyelashes and fingerer nails, those having been not only regularly cleaned but also filed into more pleasantly rounded forms, was my hair.
As I reached up, my hands touched only a few centimeters of the pitch black hair, making it rather difficult to take a closer look at first as I tried to pull some of it into my view, before giving up and simply plucking one out and placing it on my palm.
A faint feeling told me that my host didn't usually have her hair this short and for a moment I found myself curious, had it been lice? Or something else? If I could just…
…let go. The bowstring cracked and whirled past my ear, my arm stoically holding the bow until I heard the dull impact the steel piece left in the straw target and a smirk played over my lips as I turned to face my two brothers and put the bow down, leaning on it as I teasingly coed:
"And this is how you do it, now go and try it yourself!"
Both of them nodded eagerly and chirped something akin to "Thank you sis!," before taking off with their own miniature bows, leaving me smiling happily at their enthusiasms . Reaching up I brushed some sweat of my forehead, my long dark locks falling over my shoulders as Ser Jorey walked up to me and bowed lightly.
"Your highness, you father is awaiting you in the throne room."
Giving him a curt nod, I placed the bow against the side of the courtyards wall and headed towards my father, nodding in greeting as I went past the major landowners and their families, brushing past the guards which stood vigilant before the rather spacious, even if not grand, chamber my father held court in. Walking past the gathered knights I bowed lightly, one time for my father and the second time for the ring of the ancients in which his throne was set into.
Father gave me a serious nod and gestured for me to stand up, turning to face one of the peasants who came to ask for a boon:
"My daughter will go with you and inspect the damages you have talked of, if there is any-",
Whatever father wanted to say was drowned in a deep scratching sound as….
"Ancestors!",
Someone called out and spoke for everyone as the runes glowed up on the artifact: locking in like the lock of a chest, high lighting the symbols our ancestors had brought with them from their old home…
Suddenly the ring stopped spinning and seven symbols flared up brightly: the whole court stared at the ring mesmerized and some even fell down to pray to their gods. Father meanwhile staid in his seat, not wanting to panic the people by leaving his place.
Him reaching out to calm the people down was the last thing I ever saw of him: because in this moment the ring was filled with a bright flash of blue, a….wave like thing rushing out of it and consuming my father, with his throne and everything else which was built before the ring.
A cry pierced the shocked silence and only after a moment I caught on that it was my own. In the next I was torn backwards towards the door, armored knights stepped through the ring, their spears spitting light and fire. Their animalistic helmets scanned the crows and mowed down those who still stood, only staring those in prayer. Ser Jorey pulled me out and closed the door with a loud cry for…
…guards.
One simply has to love having them around. When he heard a loud cry and then me trashing around in the water, he quickly run to my site and pulled me out of the water, kneeling with the utmost respect as I fought against my host. Using my sudden surprise at the memory she had tried to fight back! That were the signs of rather strong willed hosts….those which you had to subdue at all times and as tightly as possible….which was one of the reasons why my body was currently awash in naturally produced calming drugs.
Smiling a bit as I tried to keep a clear head and only let the drugs effect my host, I beckoned the Jaffa closer and schooled my expression into an icy mask, before letting my eyes flash golden and stated darkly:
"Jaffa, you will not tell anyone what has happened."
Only as he looked up and then bowed fearfully and reverently before my, nude, form, which to be honest was a few inches shorter than him and didn`t look that imposing, I dismissed him without a word of thank….after all this simply was his god given duty.
God given….in this case said god was clearly Apophis and he ordered the Jaffa around quite willingly: so no reasons for lengthy theological debates about your meaning of life and….stop…didn't the Jaffa knew something about ascension? Mhhh….can't remember.
Gliding back into the water and diving into it for a moment to soak in the warmth again, I reached up brushing through my hair as I thought about it: Apophis…my new Lord and Boss, so to speak.
Long hair would be a must to get forward in the court: appearances are just as important as politics and hard/ public work. If you remember that my Lord hadn't taken a new host for up to three thousand years and was still shaped by the beauty ideal of that time:
There were a few changes here and there: mostly about woman not necessary striving to look like one of the Stone Age fertility goddess icons, but if one only entered his palace they were greeted by Egyptian clothes, or abbreviations of them: no matter that the palace was designed with seemingly Greek architecture and that the whole city laid in a region which promised a colder, central European weather.
Stepping out of the water I reached for a towel and slung it around me: for now I had no servants of my own and I wouldn't put it past someone to have ordered the palace servants to get rid of me in some way. True they were "only" human but an early assassination is a commonly enough method to keep all posts open to place your own followers onto them; I should know, after all my ancestors did that often enough and the Queen herself shared some of her exploits with me and the other "children" when she spawned us.
Strange cultural preferences and traditions aside: that Goa'uld fashion was just as assimilated as all other kind of culture and technology is seen by a simply look at the undergarments the servants had laid out on top of my robes.
Ten thousands of years of history and no one ever designed anything close to the easy and comfortable bra's humanity had on earth: instead I had to wrap a few artfully designed clothes around my chest and form a knot out of them on the back, hoping that the support was worth the light itching it gave me on my skin.
As this already seemed like a badly written Self insert story to me….why not make one of this strange and silly plans: maybe I should take control of the whole Goa'uld race by flying a ship to earth and kidnapping a fashion studio: making them work for me till even the system lords were begging to wear the clothing designed by me!
The silly little thought brought a smile to my lips: if it would only be that easy.
After I finished drying myself off, I threw the towel onto a stone bench in the corner and sat down on another one, pulling up the robe I had been issued: I wouldn't call them second hand but they were not made for me.
For a self-declared God that was pretty much the worst one could get: clothes Apophis had brought back from various wars with other Goa'uld and stock piled them into his treasury chamber with other Knick knacks, like less ornamented Kara'kesh he gave out to the local lords and the more common healing devices, which were available enough to even hand out to priestesses to show their gods mercy and favor towards his Jaffa.
But back to my outfit, the fabric felt nice under my hands, one of Yu's plants most likely, they did the best silk like this. The only annoying things were the curved shoulder pads the outfit offered- I promptly threw them to the side not gracing them with another glance.
The rest was promising: a two piece robe: one for the top with its long flowing sleeves and the cutout for the traditional cleavage, after all even a Goa'uld knows what kind of effect a sufficiently dressed up host body has on others and submissions towards a higher ranked lord wasn't that uncommon.
Not that I was planning it but…non the less, it was a rather tame outfit compared to what others were in the court and its black and white color gave it a plain but also elegant look: so something which fit to a newly minted divine scribe.
Against all logic, but maybe not against fashion sense: the top left my belly open, which might get a bit cold on Chulak but….of course a Symbiont also keeps you warm and the chances of getting a cold are nearly nonexistent.
Running a hand over the slim surface I shook my head and took the black sash with the white borders, holding it against my belly as I tried to see if the fabric could be stretched over my shoulder and hide the scar.
Sighing as it proofed to be too short, I reached for the long black skirt, with the long slits on the sides, making it far easier to walk in it, while giving away glimpses at my legs: it still was downright utilitarian compared to the flowing robes which dominate some wardrobes.
Raising my feet I first slipped into the underwear, before pulling the skit over my legs, a small belt firmly keeping it around my hips as I used the sash to wrap it over and along the belt too, putting the healing device I had gotten together with the clothes into it.
The gem like tool rested quite secure in the fabric and I only had to slip into a pair of rather comfortable sandals, before I turned towards the exit again, forsaking the make up for now, as that would have involved even more servants mincing around me when I needed some peace to think about things….without having to think of the possible assassination of my poor self.
More or less presentable I moved toward the door, I didn`t need any instruction in the palace layout, nor a course in court protocol: in my memory I had done this things dozens of time already, so I was sure that it wasn't time yet: but of course not many people who misjudged the waiting time they inflicted on a systemlord ever got to give their genetic memory down the lines.
Just outside the door were already four Jaffa and a serpent warrior, I did not even slowly down to examine them, I simply waved them to follow me before I shouted:
"Jaffa, Cree!"
The five warriors falling into my pace as I moved towards the throne room, filled me with some trepidation: after all this small guard could either only be here to escort me and make sure that I do not do anything rash out of "youthful" enthusiasm, or they were here because I would get them as my personal guard.
As I was being send away to work in a province ruled by a vassal and not directly by Lord Apophis himself could be dangerous as representative of ones lords financial interests: either because the local minor lord doesn't want one to sniffle around in his tax reports or because the temptation to put something aside to one's own site is great.
As my light footsteps touched the larges stone slabs, which formed the ground, together with five pair of heavy boost and the constant clinking of the Jaffa's chainmail, servants bustled past us, other Jaffa marching stoically through the slowly more and thicker becoming traffic of the palace main arteries.
My escort formed up around me and either shoved or simply intimidated their way through servants and other minor Goa'uld, their annoyed glances being replied with a confident smile of my lips: after all: each moment of superiority has to be rubbed into someone's face.
Smiling to myself, I let out a sigh as we arrived at the door to the waiting room and the Jaffa simply turned to the right and marched into another corridor, while I stepped into the lavishly decorated room before me, dozens of my kin milling around and either looking haughtily at one another or talking, most likely plotting, something or anything to kill some time.
W alking towards one of the laid out pillows, I lower myself onto it and regard the room with an expressionless mask on my features. Reclining with thousand years of elegance at my beck and call, I fit perfectly well into the groups around me and if some of the humans or Jaffa would have entered the room now, they would surely have fallen to their knees, either in the belief of seeing kings and Queens of old, or because they recognized our unmoving stances as those of a cult statue.
A statue crossing her legs, but on nonetheless, I thought as I closed my eyes for a moment and tried to calm myself, only to find the pillow next to me in use as I opened them again: another Goa'uld had sat down next to me and the combination of a silver kara kesh and a smug grin under his wide mustache, his dark skinned body just as muscled as that of a Jaffa: most likely one of the battle lords Apophis kept at his hand.
"I think we haven't been introduced yet, beautiful, I'm lord Chigaru.",
He said charmingly and I had to roll my eyes: after all he seemed to pull me into my first act of polite Goa'uld banter…that he was hitting on me like this is easily explained: what role did human women twelve thousand years ago have? And now simply look at the amount of symbionts taking a female hosts, compared to the male ones: 4 to 1 doesn't even cut it yet and that's mostly only thanks to the assimilated sexism they got from the old Egyptians.
But for now I had a simply choice: indulge him in the banter and batter my eyelashes, inviting him for more….business opportunities that obviously is, or should I keep polite and non-committal for now?
"You honor me my lord, but I can't currently offer you more than my work and title to be: third scribe of the dazai plains settlement Da'lamar."
His smile turned jovial and widened, while true delight danced in his eyes: usually one of the signs that you just now became very interesting to someone….most likely in an overly complicated plot to get rid of some other minor lord.
I watched him reach up to stroke his mustache, the heavy armor he was wearing clicking lightly as the chainmail round his arms brushed over his breastplate and finally he nodded quite pleased:
"Then we might meet one another again, you will be serving our Lord in the domains of my neighbor lord Narmer."
I nearly stiffed tensely at this words: he surely was now either going to try getting a favor from me or turn me into a tool at his disposal, the way he said this was….alarming. For someone with loyalties at least but someone merely ambitious: it could be a golden opportunity to advance into another household, which might also lead to all the risks included in it, even if it now seemed rather inviting.
"Then I hope I will serve Lord Apophis just as truthfully as you, Lord Chigaru.",
The rebuttal was hidden, politely rehearsed and stood in a long history of nice denials towards higher ranked Goa'uld's: the Lord knew when it was time to stop for now and inclined his head lightly towards me, not a gesture between equals, but one of a gracious superior:
"That we do all: I'm sure we will see each other when you travel to your office in Da'lamar and you might find some of the stories there….enlightening."
With those words the small talk was concluded and as it was expected of a lower ranked member of the dynasties I stood up and bowed before the Lord: simply because one couldn't expect him to stand up and leave, while someone as low ranked as I stayed in their seat.
Walking away in a sedated pace and with another bow of respect before turning around and heading somewhere else in the room, I looked around what to do, another talk even with my "peers" not really what I had in mind right now.
Instead I drifted towards one of the serving servants, snapping my fingers and letting my eyes glow, which nearly made the poor thing faint on the spot I guess…funny.
Clad in the typical serving bikini, with some transparent fabric here and there of course, the girl seemed terribly nervous in the middle of our gathering: as one could expect when standing between the walking gods of her faith.
My snap tore her out of her near panic for a moment and she quickly hurried over to me offering the platter with drinks and some fruits to me.
Taking one of the light wines I turned and walked into another direction again, wandering through the room and regarding my co-workers and rivals in a try to put the plots and plans the genetic memory had informed me off onto a practical fundament: are they useful here?
One truth quickly became visible: Apophis was powerful.
There was a certain…lack in the mood of the room, as if all ambitions were reined in, only keeping to a minimum of backstabbing ones neighbor and hoping to rise in the Lords grace themselves.
Furthermore the groups which formed were simply too small, as if they didn't dare or want to appear threatening: there were multiple reasons for this my memories said: either the lord was too powerful and all plotters hide when they met, or it was a strategy of Apophis: stopping the formation of cliques which could be dangerous by settling the fiefs of Goa'uld's who can't stand each other next to another. Geographical closeness is even important for parties of gods.
These thoughts and more tumbled around in my mind as I finally lead the wine to my lips and took a small sip….afterwards I need to reach back for thousands of years of self-controlled attitude to stop myself from gasp and quickly gorging down the rest of the drink.
If I wouldn't have been busy I might have noticed that I was drinking wine, alcohol, which had never tasted me before in my life but….right now I was too fascinated that I was tasting something!
Feeding in the pouch was rather simplistic and didn't include "eating", instead you simply sat in the pouch and the nutrient solution inside was keeping you all nice and healthy…not to forget it burned in the eyes when you opened them for too long.
So please excuse me, but for the first time in this existence I was able to taste something, the other symbiont I had bitten doesn't count, and I tried to savor the sensation as I took the drink in small sips, letting it spill over my tongue in a try to get every last nuance out of the red wine.
It was a bit sweet, but that wasn't a problem for me, nursing my crystal glass I took to a small sip again and leaned back, not minding that my cheeks felt warmer and warmer, from joy that is, not that I would get drunk from just one measly glass!
But my peaceful drinking was interrupted as the door towards the throne room opened and the herald of Apophis entered, looking through the mass of waiting Goa'uld, who had now stopped everything and looked expecting at the herald, who only flashed his eyes back at them and boomed in the dual voice:
"The unnamed scribe of the settlement Da'lamar, to swear her oath to our glorious lord, the most divine, the brave and victorious systemlord Apophis."
Everyone averted their eyes towards the ground at the mention of him, keeping in line with protocol, even as I moved towards the herald and some threw me one poisonous glance for having the cheek to be called in before them!
In all truth, such a ceremony took no longer than a few moments, the memories allowed me to see them performed from both perspectives.
But as I walked past the serving girl a paused, a hungry look swiveling to her as I stared at her chest….or rather the tray she was holding there: the fruits looking so sweet and inviting but…
The annoyed glance of the herald pulled me back from my musing and I simply raised the glass, trying to keep my face the same mask of haughty indifference everyone seemed to prefer.
"Our lord has enough glasses, but not enough time.",
He said sardonically and I gave a small nod, letting go of the glass, not even watching as I continued walking towards the door and heard the clattering of the breaking glass before I took my first step.
"It's no loose, it was only three thousand years old.",
The herald announced as we stepped through the door and it simply wretched my hearth as I did my best not to look back and remember that I just destroyed something which was olden in age than the Hera temple, or the foundation of Rome.
Ohhh joy.
I thought, my mind quickly shifting to my nest problem: the hall was full: minor Goa'uld, notable Jaffa, even the chiefs of some human settlements were filling the room to both sides of the main walk leading from the door to the throne of Apophis.
It wasn't the sheer amount of people which made me nervous, but rather the annoyance and at seeing Apophis throne on his throne with a golden mask hold before his face, servant holding a black canvas behind him and no matter how many people were in the room: you didn't hear something louder than a whisper.
As I said: Ohh joy: the great protocol.
Bowing my head, I reached for the sash around my hips and pulled it off, using the black and white fabric to cover my head and my sleeves to hide my hands as I kneeled down in cult ceremony: towards the divine being which was Lord Apophis.
Lowering my eyes and counting to ten, I rose again and slowly walked towards the throne: mincing slowly as I finally reached the distance of three meters, a small altar erected between me and the lord.
Reaching for the Altar, I took the small ceramic which hold wine and stood next to it, gently leading it up and pouring it on the fire burning on the altar stone: the smoke worsening for a moment and I quickly stop myself again, kneeling down and placing the wine aside: doing my best not to start coughing.
As I performed the rites needed for a prayer, Apophis slowly turned to look down at me, his movements measured and together with the mask, and the perfect control a symbiont offers over a body, he seemed more statue then man: just like it was intended:
"Who stands before me and asks for a boon?",
His dual voice boomed through the room and I would have bet that there was a microphone somewhere in the golden mask. But right now I bowed respectfully, softly calling out in reverence, my own voice maybe dual but not that booming:
"An unnamed child of your domain, an unnamed servant ready to serve you, my lord."
The golden mask regarded me for a moment before a hand raised and showed its palm outwards, as If to say: I speak:
"You are a child of our domain, you shall serve and be rewarded if you serve well: From now one your name shall be Anai, rise and serve me, the might god Apophis."
The bombastic declaration didn't need an answer from me in particular, instead my voice was simply one of many as the whole room broke out into chants:
"Hail Lord Apophis, the might and victorious!", that one came fifteen times.
"Your rule is endless and the number of your worlds uncountable!", ten times.
"Your divine wrath smites your enemies and your armies stand victorious!", that one came whole thirty times and showed just were my lords concentration really laid.
As nearly the whole elite of Apophis realm joined into those chants to show their loyalty and approval towards him, I stayed down on the floor, tasting the name: Anai? At least it was different enough from the one of my host, elsewise….one can simply change it….after one changes the lord, elsewise it would be a grave insult.
I was just about to slowly stand up as the door to the hall was shoved inside and all chants stopped, the people staring appalled and angered at the three Jaffa entering into the ceremony: two of them were from the serpent guards, their helmets high and closed…but the third one: he was nearly nude and his form was badly malnourished, his ribs showing against his flesh….and on his forehead: was the sign of Ra.
Before anyone could go and execute the whole lot of them: the left serpent guard, marched briskly forward, kneeling down next to me, his helmet retracting as he hit his fist against his armored chest and intoned solemnly.
"My lord, this Jaffa brings news: your brother Ra, has been killed by primitives who claimed to be from the first world…the humans have destroyed him and his ship. Only this Jaffa could flee after scavenging an Al'kesh, it took him nearly half of a year to reach Chulak and bring you this message my lord.",
I didn't listen so much, as this information only confirmed for now: that I did not land a few hundred years before the SG1 plot, but instead a year or two before it and just after the movie.
What was far more interesting was the Jaffa kneeling next to me: his skin was dark, darker than most of the other Jaffa I had seen so far, as if he would belong into a desert, which Chulak obviously was not. His stature was tall and trained, muscles visible everywhere and surely bulging under his armor.
All this was nearly inconsequential: but my eyes took in his bald head, the strong nose and the sharp eyes…..and the golden symbol of Apophis etched into his forehead.
"Rise my prime Teal'c: tell me….where can I find the murderers of my brother….those Tau'ri?"