Disclaimer: I own Preen, the owner of the arena, the guards, the crowd and nothing or no one else.

Ronon and the person that he was fighting against were slipping around in the mud which was the effect of the rain.

The man Ronon was fighting against was named Preen. Preen had been a fighter in the arena for a good two years before Ronon got there. And he was still alive. Which meant he had experience. And he had the scars to prove it. And with that experience, he brought Ronon to the ground. Which wasn't an easy thing to do, but Preen thanked the rain, realizing that without it, he would probably be already dead.

Ronon rolled away before a large foot left its imprint on his face. Ronon quickly stood up and looked at Preen. Through all of the mud and rain, Ronon could see Preen struggling to stand and there was a cut above Preen's eyes gushing blood down his face. Preen looked miserable.

And Ronon felt the same way. He was soaking wet, covered in mud, and Preen wasn't exactly the easiest person to beat. He looked up and saw that the rain wasn't going to let up any time soon. "I hate being right," Ronon said.

"What did you say, Satedan?" Preen yelled. His voice cut through the cheering of the crowd.

"Why do you care?"

"Because I don't want those to be your last words," Preen replied.

"I'm not dying here, Preen. And I really don't want to kill you," Ronon yelled.

"Well, someone has to die."

"I already told you, that it isn't going to be me."

Preen revealed a knife that was hidden in the cuff around his wrist. "Are you sure about that?" he asked.

"I was," Ronon said. He would have smiled because he was beginning to sound like Sheppard, but the ring wasn't a place for smiles.

Preen lunged forward swiping the knife and Ronon had only a split second to react and jump backwards. Ronon looked down and saw that there was a new tear in his clothing. If the cut was deep enough to draw blood or cause pain, he didn't feel it. His adrenaline was beginning to kick in. He didn't want to fight, but he had to. And most of all, he didn't want to die in this hell.

The crowd was divided in the new development. Some cheered, while the others complained that it wasn't fair. Ronon looked up to the owner of the arena, who was sitting above the arena in an area that was shaded from the sun and at the time, rain.

He was a fighter, he had been one all his life, and he knew that if he was going to die, it was going to be during a fight. But he could have never guessed that it was going to be as a sport.

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A man in the crowd stood over a girl as he left his seat. He stared at the hilt of a sword sticking out from under the her cloak, wondering why a girl would need to carry a sword around. He reached to touch it, but before he could, the girl reached, up without looking, and stopped it. She continued to stare forward. "Touch my sword, and you won't be able to touch anything ever again. Get it?"

He yanked his arm out of the girl's grip. The man backed away with his hands in the air defensively. "Got it," he replied.

"Good," she stated, her gaze never leaving the fight in front of her. The girl looked out of place because unlike everyone else in the crowd cheering, she just sat and watched.

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Preen swung the knife at him one more time, but this time completely missed Ronon. The miss caused Preen to lose his balance and Ronon took the opportunity to grab his wrist and twisted it behind his back. He ripped the knife from his fingers and in one quick motion slashed it across Preen's neck.

But the blow wasn't a fatal one. Preen fell to the ground with a shallow cut across his throat. Not a quick killing cut, but more of a cut for a slow, agonizing death. Ronon looked on as the man before him struggled to breathe. He knelt down next to him and shook his head in disgust.

Ronon's eyes pleaded with Preen to let him end his suffering and Preen nodded in agreement. Ronon raised the knife and with a quick spear through the heart, Preen was dead. Ronon's hand went to Preen's eyes and closed them. He blinked away tears, or what would have been distinguished as tears if it weren't raining.

Ronon stood up and walked to the center of the arena. The crowd cheered in his victory.

He held Preen's knife in his palm and stared at it. On it was the blood of the man he had just killed washing away with the rain. Another life was gone because of him. Well, actually not because of just him. It was because of a man whose name he didn't even know. He took Preen's knife and threw it at the post that was holding up the shade for the owner and his company. It wouldn't have been so bad, but it was inches from the owners head.

The crowd gasped. They had just witnessed what could have possibly been Ronon's most rebellious form of defiance. Everyone in the owner's box stood up either in fear or disgust. "Seize him!" he yelled.

The girl with the sword in the crowd with the sword sighed and shook her head. She silently swore at what had happened in front of her. "Not a smart move, Ronon," she whispered.

Ronon raised his hands in defeat and let the guards detain him. He knew better than to take on more than three guards in the condition he was in. They forced him to his knees. Ronon chastised himself for doing something so irrational. But all irrational thoughts went out the door when he was captured. "Bad move, Satedan," one of the guards said.

"Master Kane, what do we do with him?" another guard asked. Ronon finally knew the name of the owner of this hellhole.

"Flog him for an attempted assassination," he yelled. "Thirty times."

"If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn't have missed," Ronon mumbled.

One of the guards kneed him in the side forcing a grunt from Ronon's lips. "What did he say?" Kane yelled.

"If I wanted to kill you," he yelled, "I wouldn't have missed."

"And thirty more for insubordination."

With that, Kane and his entourage left the arena.

The girl looked on as the owner left and as the Satedan was escorted out of the arena. "Animals," the girl said. She adjusted her sword and pulled the hood of her cloak over her face. "I will see you tonight, anari. You will be reunited with your own." She stood up and walked out of the arena with the crowd.

Back in the arena, the guards escorted Ronon into the center. He was forced into heavy chains, making it difficult to walk. Apparently he tried to kill the owner, and that was a crime in the arena. They wouldn't give him the chance to do it again.

When he returned, there were two posts set up with chains hanging down from them. A door on the side opened and what Ronon saw shocked him. It was Kane. "Get the other fighters out here," he commanded. "You tried to kill me."

"Like I said before, if I really wanted to kill you. I mean really. I wouldn't have missed."

The other fighters slowly made their way into the arena. Many of them were confused with what was going on. All were surprised to see Kane standing in front of them. "Satedan, your defiance is almost inspiring," he started. "Almost. Your rebellious actions are causing me much discord. You earned this. I don't enjoy hurting you guys."

"You sure could have fooled me. This coming from a man who owns a fighting arena."

One of the guards removed the chains from his hands and feet while another had a gun trained on his forehead. "I'm not the ones you are fighting. Your actions make a mockery of what I am trying to do. Do you know what rebellion leads to?"

"Why don't you tell me?" he was getting bored with the conversation.

"It leads to more rebellion. The fighters will have it implanted in their heads that they will be able to overthrow us. And I can't have that. You need to be made an example of. These fighters need to know what their actions will earn them. Sixty lashes. That is what defiance will get you! And no one will be spared!" he warned.

The guards took Ronon's shirt off of him. They forced his hands to the chains on the posts and cuffed him around the wrist. Kane walked out of the door he entered and as he exited, someone entered. The man carried the whip.

When Ronon saw who it was, he sighed. He realized that finally in his life, he had crossed the wrong person. He had crossed hundreds of Wraith, his former Task Master, Kell, and many others along the way who he'd fought, but he never regreted crossing them. This man would be the first only because of the vulnerable position he was in. The man had an enormous smile across his face. It was the guard whose nose he broke. "Satedan," the guard said.

Ronon swore to himself in another language. His thoughts roamed to Atlantis. Then to Sateda. Anything to get him as far from where he was at the moment. In the middle of his thoughts, the flogging began, tearing him from them.

The guard laughed as the lashes rained down on Ronon's back. All Ronon could do was concentrate on his breathing. After the first few lashes, he could feel the blood slowly trickling down his back. It was sticky and along with the rain, his clothes would be stained with his blood.

Halfway into it, he stopped counting. He didn't know if the guard was done and just whipping him for revenge and humiliation, but Ronon didn't care at the moment. His back was on fire. The whip rained on his scars from the tracker, and he realized that if he had to walk to his cell on his own, he would make it.

Finally, after what had seemed like an eternity, the flogging stopped and the rain had let up. Ronon's vision had become hazy by the end of it, and his consciousness slowly slipped away from him. The guards released him from the chains and he fell to the ground clumsily. Ronon heard voices in the distance. "That was more than sixty lashes you—"

He raised his hand to stop the man who was protesting. The fighters fell silent. He didn't care for anyone in the arena, but he wouldn't want anyone to suffer the fate he had just gone through. A few fighters and guards went to help him up. He forced himself up to his knees and shook his head. He was going to stand when he was able.

After a few minutes of waiting, he was able to lean against a post and make it to his feet. He slowly walked toward the door that would lead him to his cell. He knew that his consciousness was limited. He made it only a few steps before his consciousness fled. Two guards and a fighter ran to him and caught him before he hit the ground.

At that moment, Ronon had earned the respect of each and every one of the remaining men in the arena. Two guards each put an arm around his shoulder and walked him over to his cell. They thanked the gods that he was unconscious, because if he was awake, he would be in a lot of pain.

They got to his cell and gently laid him down on the ground. They felt bad for him because they knew that no matter how injured he was, he would still have to fight in three days. They hoped that his wounds wouldn't get an infection, but there was nothing they could do about it. Neither of them knew a thing about herbs and medicines, and they weren't about to begin experimenting on a Satedan.

They closed the door and led the rest of the fighters back into their cells. There was a lot of commotion with the events that had just taken place. Many of the fighters spoke to the guards asking if Ronon was going to live. While others hoped he would be all right. His strength was, like Kane said, inspiring.

Darkness fell and the world quieted, but the cells didn't. If anything the commotion became louder at night. Many asking if the Satedan and woken yet. And the answer was no.

Around midnight, the cells had finally quieted down. Many of the fighters had fallen asleep, losing their adrenaline rushes. Within half an hour, both the guards and fighters had fallen asleep, the only sound that was heard was the echoing of snores. A lot of snores.

That is the sound that the young girl from the arena walked into. She entered the cell blocks and saw that no one was conscious. She grabbed the keys off of one of the guards and walked down the row of cells until she found what she was looking for.

She fumbled through the keys trying to figure out which one would get the cell door opened. After a few failures, she finally found the right one. She slowly opened the door, cautious not to make too much noise, and walked into the cell toward Ronon.

The girl stood over his body and watched him while he slept. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. The close to silent sounds of his breaths. He somehow made the cold, dirt floor of the cell looks as comfortable as a cloud. But something wasn't right.

She knew from the moment she stepped into the cell. For as long as she had known him, he had always been a light sleeper and the fact that he hadn't even stirred when she entered the cell worried her.

She took a few steps forward, lantern in hand, and gasped at what she saw. His face was furrowed with agony. He was sleeping on his side, and she could see a trail of blood leading to him. She knelt down next to him and set the lantern down beside him. She brushed his brown, blood-matted hair out of his face. Tears fell from her eyes when he didn't give any reaction to her touch. "Anari, it's me, Sage."

She removed her hood and cape from her face. Her long black hair fell to the middle of her back. She was no older than a teen. She took his hand in hers and placed the lantern on the ground. Her free hand moved to his neck to look at his mark. She looked at his back and saw fresh wounds from his punishment. "What have they done to you?"

On the upper part of his back, she saw through the new cuts and noticed the healed scars. Tears threatened to fall from her eyes. So much blood. "It's really you," she sobbed. "I've finally found you. After all these years. The Wraith made you a Runner." That made her blood boil.

She looked up. With her acute hearing, she could hear someone on the way toward the cells. It was most likely a guard making his rounds. "I wish I could stay, but the sun is going to rise in a few hours. I must be off. You'll see your family soon enough."

She picked up her lantern and ran out the cell, leaving everything looking the way it was when she got there.

Okay, so I own the mystery girl. I apologize for such the long wait. Like I said in my other update, school is a killer. But it's almost over. All right, please review. No flames. If it is moving a little too fast, tell me, and I'll try and slow it up. But no guarantees. Thanks for reading. Lil-Rock