Chapter 4 – The Feast

Wrapped in towels, Ronon and Jennifer padded barefoot back to their dressing rooms. Before they separated, they shared another long, longing look.

When she entered the dressing room, Jennifer noticed that her uniform had disappeared. In its place, a robe in a soft peach color lay over the backrest of the chair. Jennifer crossed the room, picked up the garment and held it in front of herself. It had a tailored bodice with a square neckline, a full, floor length skirt and long, narrow sleeves that tapered to a point at the end. Quickly, she donned her underwear and slipped into the dress. She was unable to close it, since it was laced up the back, but it appeared to be a perfect fit. Although, when Jennifer looked down she realized that the neckline was cut lower than she had imagined, and the sports bra she wore was showing at the corners and bottom. After a moment's hesitation, she slipped the dress off her shoulders again, and took off the undergarment. She had just pulled the dress up again, when Vyga came in.

"That color really suits you," she declared.

Jennifer smiled. "Thank you," she said. "It's a beautiful dress. But I'll need help with closing it."

Vyga moved closer and proceeded with pulling the string tight and lacing it up. Jennifer felt how this pushed up her breasts, so they were displayed to their best advantage. She wished she had a mirror, but Vyga's admiring gaze as she stepped back was reassurance enough.

"What shall we do with your hair?" the young woman asked.

"I don't know," Jennifer replied. Her hair was still damp, and she didn't think that hair dryers had been invented in this society. "What do you suggest?"

Vyga came closer again, and ran her fingers through Jennifer's tresses.

"There is a traditional style that I think would suit you. Will you let me try it?"

Jennifer nodded, and Vyga produced a comb. Gently, she smoothed out the tangles and made a part down the center She then braided both sides, beginning at the temples and adding more hair as she guided the plaits in an arch over Jennifer's ears, and around to the neck. Here, she gathered all the hair and tied it together with a strip of soft leather. Stepping back to admire her handiwork she nodded, satisfied.

"All done?" Jennifer asked.

"Almost," was the reply. Vyga pointed at a red scarf, embroidered with intricate lines and swirls, that was slung over the chair. She picked it up and draped it around Jennifer's neck, so that the ends hung loosely down her front.

At that moment, there was a cough outside the doorway.

"We're ready, Tarom," Vyga called, and her husband entered the room. He was tall and slender, with an open, friendly face. He bowed to Jennifer, and said, "If you are ready, I will escort you to the feast."

Jennifer walked towards him, and took the proffered arm. When they had reached the corridor, she asked, "Isn't Ronon coming with us?"

"He has already gone ahead," Tarom replied. Jennifer felt a rush of disappointment, but quickly tried to suppress it. They would be together the whole evening – and the rest of the night, if she had her way.

The banquet had been set up under the starlit skies, in a large meadow next to the village. The tables, arranged in a wide horseshoe shape, were covered with linen cloths, and decorated with wild flowers, branches of evergreen and a multitude of candles. In the center, some large beast was slowly roasting on a spit, emitting a mouth watering aroma. It reminded Jennifer that she had not eaten since breakfast, and she suddenly felt ravenously hungry.

Quoram and his wife came to greet her, and to take her to the place of honor at the center table. She felt her pulse quicken when she saw that Ronon was there already, talking to the shaman, a cup in his hand. He had not changed his own leather trousers, but he wore a shirt with long, flowing sleeves, that had obviously been made for a smaller person - the laces that fastened it were not able to close the gap completely, so there was a delicious view of amber skin and curly dark hair running down the front.

The shaman said something to him, and Ronon turned to look at Jennifer. The smile on his face froze when he saw her. For a brief moment their eyes locked, then Ronon turned away, drained the content of the cup in one gulp, and fell into his chair.

In a daze, Jennifer was lead to her own seat, and sank down on it. What had just happened? What kind of welcome was that after the passion they had shared in the bath house? She longed to ask Ronon, but it was impossible in the middle of all these people. In addition, the elder and the shaman were sitting between them.

"Dr. Keller?" Quoram's voice cut through her thoughts. Startled, she looked at him. His face was full of concern. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes," Jennifer said quickly, trying to smile at him. "All this is just a little – overwhelming."

"Try some of our beer, it will relax you," Quoram suggested, and waved to a young man who was passing out cups from a tray. He came over and offered one to Jennifer. Hesitantly, she accepted it, took a small sip – and had to summon all her self control not to spit it out again. It had a harsh, metallic taste, rather like cilantro – a herb she had a very strong aversion to. Forcing the liquid down, she turned to Quoram.

"I'm not much of a beer drinker, I'm afraid," she said. "Just water, or maybe some juice would be fine."

Quoram signaled a young girl, who brought Jennifer a pitcher of water and a mug of thick, sweet cider. Reaching for the pitcher, Jennifer leaned forward and managed to catch a look at Ronon. He had just finished another cup of the revolting beer, and signaled the young man for another one. There was a scowl on his face that Jennifer could not interpret. What on earth was wrong with him?

At that moment, Quoram stood up and raised his arms to get everybody's attention. A hush fell over the meadow, while he again thanked and praised their guests of honor and what they had done for the village. After a toast had been proposed and drunk to them, the feast began in earnest. Bowls of steaming vegetables and different salads, loaves of bread and platters piled high with roast whatever-it-was were brought and put on the table. Pushing the questions in her mind aside, Jennifer eagerly tried pretty much everything, and savored the new and unusual tastes.

When most of the food had disappeared and the plates had been cleaned away, a group of musicians appeared, carrying a variety of flutes and drums, as well as a horn and a stringed instrument resembling a lute. They struck up a lively tune, and soon people were dancing merrily. Jennifer leaned back contentedly and watched this carefree display. Tapping her foot to the rhythm, she shared their joy in the future safety of their community from the crippling disease they had been subject to.

When the first dancers began to tire, the musicians ended their playing, and a cart was rolled into the center of the horseshoe. On the cart sat something large, flat and round, swathed in a length of cloth. An excited murmur rose among the villagers.

Jennifer leaned closer to Quoram and asked, "What's that?"

"This," the elder explained, "is the after-course. It is a special kind of cake, that is only served on special occasions, where we celebrate a certain person or persons – weddings, for example. It is baked very slowly, while it is constantly moistened with a special berry liquor. In order to keep it hot and moist, it is wrapped in strips of linen before it is served. The person who is honored unwraps the cloth, a symbol of the hard work that is required until the sweet reward can be reaped."

"So you want me to unwrap it?" Jennifer asked.

"You and Specialist Dex, yes," Quoram confirmed.

Jennifer looked over at Ronon, and saw that he was already standing. He must have known what was coming. Without looking at her, he walked around the tables to the cart with the cake. Jennifer and Quoram went around the other side, The musicians had moved some distance away and began to play a slow tune with a strong underlying rhythm.

At the cart, there was a moment of uneasy silence. To break it, Jennifer said lightly "Okay, let's do this." She took a step towards the cart and reached for the length of cloth, but a grip of steel around her wrist stopped her. She looked up in Ronon's face. It was clear that he had been drinking heavily. Not that he gave any indication of being drunk, but there was a... feral quality about him, as if the alcohol he had so freely consumed had stripped away not only his inhibitions but also the 'civilized' part of him. The effect was a bit scary – and incredibly erotic.

"Please, Dr. Keller," Quoram interrupted, "there is a certain ritual for unwrapping the cake."

"Of course, please excuse my haste," Jennifer replied. She should have known, these people were BIG on rituals.

Without letting go of her wrist, Ronon stepped behind her, putting his free arm around her waist. The position they were now in was almost like ballroom dancing, except that Jennifer was facing the other way.

Quoram pulled the end of the cloth off the top of the cake and wrapped it a few times around Ronon's and Jennifer's wrists. Slowly, Ronon started to spin Jennifer around, while moving around the cart in a counter-clockwise circle. The cloth from the cake began to wrap around them as it unraveled, tying them together. As the music became faster, so did their movments. Ronon was pulling Jennifer very close to him, and she could definitely feel his erection pressing into her back. This just didn't make sense. Why would he feel aroused by her, when the sight of her had made him more or less recoil in shock?

She was starting to feel dizzy when with a final tug, the cloth from the cake came free, and the two of them tumbled head over heels and landed in a tangle on the soft grass. Ronon had managed to end up at the bottom to cushion her fall. He was breathing heavily, and she totally melted into his body.

Several people came running up to help untie them. Others began to cut the cake into pieces to serve it.

When they were back on their feet Jennifer grabbed Ronon's hand before he could escape again. She forced him to look into her eyes, and said in a low voice, "We need to talk. My hut, after the feast."

Ronon hesitated for a moment, then he nodded.