Epilogue: Everything Will Be Alright


"I think it's romantic."

"You're five years old, what do you know about romantic?"

"Timothy, don't be mean to your sister," she scolded him before turning back to the dark-haired daughter she'd never known she wanted. "It is romantic."

"Did she love him forever and ever?" Beth asked from where she lay in her bed, covers pulled up to her shoulders. Her curls formed a dark halo around her head and she smiled shyly at her mother even as she turned and cuddled into the pillow.

Elizabeth fretted with the cover a bit before answering. "Yes. Yes, she did."

There was a small nightlight next to the bed and when the overhead light went off it cast the small bedroom in a comforting soft glow. Elizabeth wrapped one long arm around her son's neck and pulled him from his baby sister's room with a smile. He didn't push at the arm, at eight he was still young enough to not mind so much. He pressed his face into her stomach and stumbled with her to his room across the hall.

"I bet the prince and princess kissed a lot. That's disgusting."

"When you grow up you'll probably kiss a lot of girls."

"Like Uncle Gordy?"

"Yes, just like Uncle Gordy."

"Never! Girls are disgusting. Kissing is disgusting."

Elizabeth laughed and released Timothy long enough to pull up the covers on his bed. "If you say so. Time for bed, my son."

"Will you kiss me good night, my mother?" He asked sarcastically (a trait he'd surely learned from his Uncle Rodney).

She smiled against his forehead as she did so. She could hear heavy steps coming up the hall before entering Beth's room and sat on Timothy's bed to wait for their father to join her there. She could hear him murmuring to their daughter and making various soothing sounds before his steps echoed into the hall.

Their house was small but she loved it. It'd taken several months for it to be completed; he'd wanted to be a part of the process. It was on the coast of the mainland, no more than ten minutes from Atlantis in a Puddlejumper. Several other couples from Atlantis had also joined them in making houses on the mainland. The longer they stayed in this galaxy the more it became home. Most of them didn't even think of returning to Earth anymore.

A large shadow slid across the bed and Elizabeth's eyes naturally connected with his. Ronon smiled at the picture his wife made sitting beside their son and moved to kneel beside them. He passed a large callus-roughened hand over his son's coarse hair, so like his own, and slipped his other hand into Elizabeth's.

Timothy's eyes drooped with sleep but he smiled when he felt his father's touch. "Are you leaving again tomorrow, Papa?"

"Yes. I have a mission. I should be back in a few days, however."

"I miss you when you're gone..."

Timothy was already asleep when Ronon replied. "I miss you too." He turned to Elizabeth. "And you and our daughter."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and let him lift her into his arms. "I miss you whenever you're not with me."

Ronon kissed her tenderly as they moved through the hall and into their own bedroom. All along the walls pictures were arranged. Pictures of their friends, Teyla with her arm around Elizabeth, John wrestling with Ronon. A large picture of all of them eating together in the Mess Hall.

Then the pictures begin to change. The people in them begin to pair off even as they clearly begin to age. Hair grows longer, lines appear around eyes. Teyla and John start to appear together in most of them, at first just near each other, then holding hands, then arms around each other and big smiles on their faces. Rodney stays alone in almost all of them, until the most recent. Then an attractive brunette appears at his side, though they're not yet at the "touching" stage. They stand near each other, smiling and clearly infatuated.

Carson left so many years ago that he's only a presence in the oldest photographs. Elizabeth has heard that back on Earth he'd married and had several children of his own. Through the years, though, the connection between him and Atlantis had faded.

Then there were the pictures of her and Ronon. In even the earliest they touched. Sometimes just a shoulder, then his hand on her waist. Then pictures of her pregnant, still fragile looking yet glowing with peace. His hand on her rounded stomach, a broad grin shockingly apparent on his face. The photos progress as expected. A baby appears, grows into a toddler, a boy with her fair skin and Ronon's hair and eyes. Silent and solemn as his father. Pictures of Ronon and Timothy sparring, Ronon letting his son beat him. Pictures of Timothy with various "aunts" and "uncles". Elizabeth was as modern as women come, but she'd been inordinately pleased to give Ronon a son.

On her feet again, she moved closer to the frames to gaze into them. She was fond of them all. After a few years of her son growing from babe to child, she became pregnant again. Not quite glowing as she had the first time, instead strained. Not as many photos of this pregnancy. What photos there were were happy but clearly tense. Ronon didn't smile this time, but held his woman close.

The little girl was all Elizabeth. Her hair, her eyes, her face. The first picture of Ronon holding his daughter is incredibly adorable. That large muscled man holding the tiny bundle in one hand. She remained that tiny bundle of energy in every picture since.

The largest picture on the wall, of course, is their wedding picture. Time and circumstance had prevented the event for many years. Something had always interfered.

Teyla held their daughter, John their son; matron of honor and best man, respectively. Elizabeth wore a cream colored floor-length dress, delicately sewn. Ronon wore his usual accoutrements, but of slightly better quality than normal.

Elizabeth rubbed her fingers along the frame and remembered that day not long ago. She'd been so happy, but it did not compare to the happiness she felt when round with Ronon's child.

She turned to her husband with a smile he recognized and knew to fear. "Ronon?"

"Yes?" He replied in his deep gravelly voice. He watched as she wrapped her arms around him, her head over his heart. He ran his fingers through her curls; she hadn't cut her hair in so long it now fell to the middle of her back and then some. In exchange for not cutting her hair, she'd asked him to shave off his beard.

He'd been helpless to say no.

When she'd requested that of him she'd been smiling just like she was now.

"I want a baby."

"You have two of them, already." Ronon said through the sudden choking hold on his throat.

She looked up at him with wide appealing eyes. "I want another."

He removed her arms from around him and sat on their bed with a sigh. "Last time it was very difficult for you. I almost lost you and Beth."

Elizabeth nodded and slid into his lap. "I know it was hard for us. That's why I haven't asked since. I think it's time, though. I feel better than I have in years."

"But a baby?" He asked incredulously.

She laughed against his lips and slid her hands under his shirt. "Yes, a baby."

"You'll be the death of me, woman," he growled into her throat, pulling her down onto the bed with him.

Elizabeth chuckled. "You'll enjoy it. I love you, Ronon."

He fisted his hand in her hair and drew her head back, nipping at her throat gently. "And I you."

They'd name their next child Sarah.


Fin