The FB is wonderful. Thank you everyone. You rock like rocking things:D
Rodney was scared. He didn't to work in the mines, yet here they were, and he was being shoved alongside Teyla and all the other unfortunates. "I can't do this!" He hissed at Teyla.
"We will find a way out of this," Teyla replied, her voice low and calm.
"There is no way out!" Rodney snapped, then he jumped when Teyla's hand clamped over his mouth to quiet him.
Teyla glared at Rodney. "You must calm yourself, Rodney. Trust me."
He knew he could do that, that he could trust her, but that didn't stop him from being afraid. Still, he pushed her hand away and whispered "Fine!"
"Stick close to me at all times," Teyla cautioned, as they moved with the others towards the mines. "If I tell you to do something, you must react without question."
"What do you know that I don't know?" Rodney countered, because he sensed that something was going on right under his nose, but somehow he was missing it.
Teyla touched his arm. "Just be ready," she said softly.
And in that moment, all hell broke loose. Rodney jumped as someone bellowed in anger, and he turned in time to see a huge man, one of slaves like himself, attacked two guards. He tossed them about as if they were rag dolls. More moved in to stop the giant, but the man just whacked them aside as well. Then other slaves joined in the melee and it became a free for all.
"This way!" Teyla hissed, grabbing Rodney by the arm and hauling him over to one of the wagons.
"What are you doing?" Rodney asked, as he watched her unhitch the horse-like beast that had been hauling the wagon.
Teyla gripped the thick mane and pulled herself up onto creatures back. "Come," she ordered, holding out a hand for Rodney to join her.
But Rodney shook his head, taking a step back. "I'm not getting on that thing! Are you insane?" He figured she had to be. Maybe something in the tepid water they had been given. He wondered if he was about to lose it too.
"I am going to the gate and back to Atlantis to get help!" Teyla snapped. "You can come with me, or you can stay here! But choose NOW!"
"Fine!" Rodney knew he couldn't stay here. So he gripped Teyla's hand and let her haul him up behind her. Her strength didn't really surprise him anymore. Then he wrapped his arms around her waist and held on for dear life as Teyla made the beast take off at a full run. He closed his eyes and was tempted to pray.
oOo
John came awake in slow measures, becoming aware of his physical condition in increments. The pain in his gut was blissfully gone, and the ache in his temples was bearable. His muscles felt a bit achy, like he'd run a triathlon or something, but they worked when he shifted about until he was sitting up. In a bed. John didn't remember going to sleep in a bed. Hell, to be honest, he didn't remember anything outside of being bought by some guy named Chameleon or something, and pain. Mostly he remembered the pain, twisting and clawing its way throughout his body. It felt so damn good not to be in pain anymore.
And that's when it hit him. The way he was feeling right now was familiar. Blessedly familiar. No way in hell was it possible, but John was positive he'd been given Shuloc. His felt comfortable in his skin again and he was relaxed and feeling almost serene.
Tossing back the covers, John was relieved to see that someone had put him in loose trousers. Stretching a bit to ease what little stiffness there was, he slid to the edge of the bed and stood up. Dizziness washed over him, but in gentle waves that were easy enough to ride out. Then he found himself drawn over to a large window to his left. Golden sunlight shimmered through the sheer curtains and John bathed in it's warmth for a moment. Until a voice called out to him. Turning he stared at the young woman who was holding a tray and smiling at him.
"I am Cilia," she said softly. "I will serve you while you are here, Sheppard."
"You know my name?" That surprised him and bothered him. John wasn't sure which one more.
Cilia nodded. "Your companion told Sir Chamaelion."
John sucked in a breath. He had almost forgotten. "Ronon?" At Cilia's nod he asked, "Where is he?"
"In the guard's quarters," she replied. "He is being trained as we speak."
"Trained for what?" John watched as she moved to a side table and set down the tray. Then she picked up a fragile looking cup wafting spirals of steam, and brought it to him. John eyed it with suspicion, his question about Ronon forgotten. "What is that?"
Cilia looked surprised by the question. "It is your Shuloc. The healer prescribed two cups a day. One now and one before sleep time."
"Oh." John reached for the cup and took a sip. Different flavor than any tea he was used too, a bit fruiter than he liked, but he could deal with it. Anything to keep the pain away.
"Ronon is being trained to be a palace guard," Cilia said, answering the question John had forgotten asking.
Gulping down the tea and setting the cup aside, John asked, "Why a guard? Why isn't he here with me? Or me with him, for that matter?"
Cilia looked amused. "You are of the royal bloodline," she replied, her tone implying he had asked a stupid question. "Your companion is not."
"Royal bloodline?" John had the feeling he had missed something while he had been out of it. Something big. Then he remembered making something light up on the slave block and he had a feeling that his magic gene was what she was talking about.
"If you are ready, I will escort you to the baths," Cilia countered, ignoring his comment. "The Queen awaits your presence and you must be ready to meet her."
John wasn't too sure he wanted to meet her, but he nodded at Cilia. "I could do with a bath," he allowed. Feeling clean always helped him feel more focused, and a bath should ease the ache in his muscles so he'd be fit and ready to fight. If a fight was necessary. He was rather hoping that, for once, it wouldn't be.
Cilia was moving to the arched doorway. "Come with me please," she bade him.
"Sure," John drawled, moving to follow her. He soon found himself in an area that reminded him of the roman styled baths. There was a pool of heated water that reminded him of a marble Jacuzzi and off to the side, draped over a short table, were his clothes. Cilia bid him to bathe and dress in short order.
So John did as he was told. For now. The water did leech away the body aches, although his temples still throbbed with light pain. A pain that John was getting used too. He forced himself out of the bath way earlier than he would have liked, then he dressed in the clothes provided. Form fitting black pants, a black tunic with a gold sash and knee-high black boots. There were no mirrors available and John decided that was probably a good thing. He really didn't want to know how ridiculous he must look.
Using the bath sheet to dry his hair, he then scrubbed his fingers through it. It would have to do. That done, he headed back to the other room to find the Chamaelion fellow waiting for him. "Hey," John offered in greeting, as he watched the older man's eyes roam over him.
"You clean up well," Sir Chamaelion said, a smile lighting up his face. "The Queen will be pleased."
"How nice for her," John drawled, because it was suddenly hitting him that he was really nothing more than a slave to the man before him. After all, the guy did buy him, and that just didn't sit right with John.
Sir Chamaelion was still studying John. "You look much better, do you feel better?" he queried. "If not, then we can adjust your Shuloc dosage."
John winced, feeling uncomfortable talking so openly about the herb. "You know about Shuloc," he said, stating the obvious. But he wasn't sure how else to ask.
"Of course," Sir Chamaelion replied. "Those of the royal bloodline have taken Shuloc for generations. It is of no surprise, really, that you know of it. But we can talk more later, Sheppard. The Queen awaits."
"Right." John let Chamaelion guide him out the door and down a long hallway where they were joined by what had to be the guardsmen. Six big guys dressed in crimson and gold. They wore short swords stuffed into their sashes. Swords that looked very very sharp.
Sir Chamaelion led John to a set of double doors that looked all too familiar, and it hit John like a slap in the face that they were traveling along corridors that were a mirror image of Atlantis. "What the hell..." he muttered beneath his breath, as they reached the doors and they slid open and John was stepping through into what used to be the Gate Room. At least it was the gate room on Atlantis. Here, it was decorated in lavish tapestries with gilded statues and candle light making the room look luminous. But unlike Atlantis, in the center was a chair. Like the one in Antarctica. And the one he had used in Atlantis. Only it was bigger and draped in gold and black and seated in it was a woman who looked to be in her early fifties with silver blond hair and pale blue eyes.
She was smiling as John approached. "Welcome, Sheppard," she greeted him.
"Uh...thanks," John replied, because he really had no idea what one said to royalty. He let himself study the chair as he got closer and realized that it wasn't lighting up. Which meant she didn't have the gene. Which was intriguing, because maybe he could bargain with his ability so that he and Ronon could go free. They needed to find Rodney and Teyla. John felt a twinge of guilt that he had forgotten the rest of his team for a moment.
"Come closer, Sheppard," the Queen beseeched him.
So John did. And when she held out her hand to him, he took it and was surprised when she encircled his wrist with a thin bad of what looked like shimmery gold. The moment it touched his skin it began to glow.
The Queen looked delighted. "He is the one," she said softly. "And so beautiful. He is everything I hoped for."
"Whoa...wait a minute," John protested, feeling himself blush at some of her comments. "I'm not the one anything."
"Come sit." The Queen rose from her throne, stepping off to the side before gesturing for John to take her place.
He hesitated, eyes moving to Chamaelion, and the man was nodding at him and looking quite pleased with himself. John really did not want to sit in the chair, but he did it anyway. He was completely outnumbered here and he needed to keep on everyone's good side if he hoped to have any chance of finding the rest of his team and getting them all safely back to Atlantis. Not surprisingly, the moment John sat down the chair lit up.
The cheers that rang out were deafening.
OoO
Ronon had been training with the other guards. Or, rather, he had been kicking their asses. A phrase he had learned from Sheppard. In fact he was just pulling his, supposed, trainer to his feet when he heard a rush of sound. Moving towards it, Ronon realized it was coming from the tower. "What is that?" he asked his trainer.
The head of the guards, a man called Delcar, looked at Ronon and grinned. "It is the cry of a people who have found the hope they have been seeking."
"What do you mean?" Ronon asked, feeling himself tense up. His gut was telling him something was wrong.
"You're friend is the one we have been waiting for," Delcar replied. "The one who will free us all from the tyranny of the Wraith." That said, he raised his voice in cheers of his own.
Ronon went back to his room, using a basin of water to clean up with. He had to find a way to free Sheppard and escape. He had a feeling if they didn't leave soon, then they would never leave. But Sheppard was not well and Ronon knew he had to get him back to Atlantis. Back home where they all belonged.