STARGATE ATLANTIS

TO SEE THE SUN IN WINTERTIME

Chapter Three

A/N… My thanks to all who have reviewed so far– and also can't reply to. They are scant, but special to me. It is disappointing that popularity in this wonderful ensemble cast has fallen…but I still love it!

SGA SGA SGA

"Rodney, Ronon. The two of you need to eat!"

Carson said the words, but he was not practising what he preached. His own stew was poked at several times before he loaded some of it in his mouth. His stomach rebelled, so he put it back down on the ground - again. None of them could stomach any food at this time. A few days ago now they had witnessed a second friend fall. They were still in shock. This mission had literally been the death of them.

Carson sighed and leaned his back against the wall, shifting his small piece of carpet under his backside. Several days of sitting like that had him longing for his comfy chair. He studied the two men staring out of the bars together – as they had for a time now, standing side by side in solidarity. He knew them inside out. He watched Rodney, with slumped shoulders, pine for the loss of his best friend. Likewise, Ronon - except, Ronon was also going through the reality that he had caused the death of their two guides when he had refused to do as they had asked of him. They stabbed them through with swords into their bellies from behind right in front of him – more possibly to goad him into action. A total and utter waste of life. Ronon had stood stock still and silent in shock – turned into a pillar of quiet by the disbelief of losing John, and then causing the deaths of the two men he regarded as new and trustworthy friends. His reaction had surprised Carson. He had stepped back and not show any anger. He could not risk losing any-one else. Now, Carson watched another shiver run through his muscles. He was a coiled spring. It wouldn't take much for the big man to let lose his anger if the opportunity arose. He remained silent for most of that day and the next, shrugging off Carson's well intentioned attention. They left him alone after that; perhaps they all needed time to think and remember.

Rodney looked his way when he heard Carson's bowl hit the stone floor. He cocked an eyebrow.

"I don't get sick if my sugar levels drop!" He defended himself.

Rodney huffed but came over and sat down beside him, taking his bowl up to his mouth. Not using a spoon, he just threw it down his throat in one go.

"You could have choked!"

"Could have." His voice was low and quiet.

"Rodney…"

"Don't, Carson. I can't cope with talking about it."

Carson patted his shoulder and turned to look at the young Andy. "How are you, son?

Andy still had a shell-shocked look about him. He had lost his commanding officer in an awful way. To tell people how he had died on this mission, his first one with him…he shivered thinking about it.

"I'm fine."

"Oh great…another one!"

Andy frowned. "What did I say?"

Carson put a hand on his arm. "It's what John…Colonel Sheppard…would always say when…" His voice went quiet. Then, "…too many times. Not this time, however."

Every-one looked at him this time. Rodney felt guilty. They had all probably relied on him too much to take care of their needs. Keep them going though these dark times following John and Teyla's deaths. "Carson, I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

"Don't worry about me. I…I…just miss them… like we all do.

Ronon struck the bars with his foot. The first outward sign of his frustration just begging to break free."

"Cool it, Conan." Rodney tried with small attempt of wit to subdue his friend.

Ronon turned on him, ready to defend himself, but stopped glowering upon seeing what Mackay was trying to do.

He instead sighed loudly, but went to sit cross-legged beside Carson and held out his hand for a bowl of stew. "Better keep my strength up for getting out of here."

"Or staying here." Andy said as Carson handed him his bowl. Ronon's head whipped up at that, but no-body could read the expression that came on his face then.

Silence followed for a good few minutes. "It was not a good death for him, he deserved better…as did Teyla."

There was no denying what he said. "Aye, lad. I have seen them both wounded too many times. To know they died this time – the way they did. Well, it is very hard indeed."

"I can't believe it." Rodney admitted, choking back a tear.

Sounds of their guards coming their way broke up the chat.

"Okay, men. Time for your training."

"What?" Rodney cried.

…..

The next couple of days, the three friends were taken from sitting about all day, to repeated hours of their captor's version of exercises in the searing heat. None of the other prisoners looked surprised by this; they just set about the gruelling routines without a word spoken.

"What's going on?" Rodney repeated, sweat pouring off him; his face puffy and red.

But no-one told them.

Ronon suspected that the large sandy square could easily be turned into a gladiator like arena. Carson and Rodney shared a look, but instantly thought the same if their gulps were anything to go by. Carson watched Andy carefully. He was already showing signs of PTSD. He paced, pulled on his hair even and took to the 'training' like a mad man as if he was hurrying up the inevitable. Carson nodded Ronon's way once when the man started pacing, hoping he would understand. He had done, so he started his own training with him. Showing him how to slow his breathing and taught him some self-defence techniques he used, and that John had used. Gradually, Andy relaxed slightly, although he looked ready to break at times.

It was a week later they were unfortunately proven correct.

Several banners appeared with long, double pointed ends of flowing silk. They were carried to large white posts that seemed to have been erected in covered holes in the packed sand they had not noticed before. Each one was different; all in primary colours; some depicting scenes and animals. Eventually they surrounding the entire square. The flapped and billowed in distracting noises and dizzying patterns that intermittently blocked the hot sun; which was a fleeting relief. Outside, caravans of people started congregating and setting up camp, the excitement levels within the guards joined the throng. All longed for the awaited games to begin. They had been correct. The arena was set to be an annual three day event. What that entailed was still a mystery, though. Also, rumour from other prisoners were that there would be special guests that came from afar. This was the first time they had talked about the coming event. Ronon eventually asked them outright – and no-body wanted to get on his bad side. So they were told there would be fighting, shooting: both with guns, and a sort of bow and arrow, also a game, like polo, with a ball on the camel looking animals …and whatever was planned with the surprise guests – wonderful! There were also tents of produce, crafts, clothing and weapons that were being set up as they exercised.

Back inside their quarters, there were long, narrow slits in the deep stone walls, each took a turn watching outside for anything that could aid their escape. Animals like camels could be seen protesting about their tethered feet and spat at those who dared to come close. The smell of their excrement was foul.

The people sang and laughter continued long into the nights. It came with the scent of cooking meat and fermented wine as they stayed awake late every night around their built-up fires.

"You awake, Carson?" Rodney whispered one such night.

"Yes, Rodney. Can't sleep with all this noise. What's up?"

Half of Rodney's face was hidden in the dark, but Carson still noticed him swallow. "I can't stop thinking about John."

"Aye, you and me both lad. I still feel him under my hands..."

"Oh, hell, Carson."

"Sorry, I shouldn't have said that!"

"No. Glad you shared. I keep thinking of him being silenced with that poison."

"His throat was so raw inside. These folk are butcher's, just butchers'..." Andy added.

"I need to know what happens next." Rodney said, he had remained more or less silent for a couple of days up till now. Carson worried about him.

"We all do. Our lives are in danger but we need to remain alert. Lorne and the others will find us one day. That I do know. So, keep alert. Keep focused. I will get you all out of here." Ronon added.

Nobody mentioned he hadn't included himself in the statement.

"Get some sleep." Carson said. It was all they could do for now.

...

"It is pleasing me to see you outside, albeit in the shade... and on a mattress, my young friend." Shebo approached the recumbent John Sheppard with a large smile on his old and weathered face.

John flapped a hand his way, as he managed to turn onto his side, groaning with the pull on his healing back and thigh.

Shebo laughed. "Alas, I am not a fool as to go against my wife's wishes...and that is for you to stay off your feet for now. She wishes not for you to tax your healing wounds and bruises.

John slumped his shoulders and shifted backwards slightly, dragging his fiery leg with him. He nodded his understanding. Shebo did, however, pull him back into a sitting position. "That I know you can do." He looked about. "They left you?"

John smiled, but pointed into a small outside cave in the Trakda mountain that's canvas flap was held open by a long pole.

'Ah, the secret store ... I never know what's in it." He leaned in closer, "...nor want to!"

John chuckled and then held his throat, delighted to have made a noise that didn't hurt too much.

Shebo heard it and also shared his enthusiasm. "It won't be long until Aliass lets you attempt a few words."

John nodded in agreement. He couldn't wait. Especially when it came to matters with Teyla. At that, her head popped out to check on him and she frowned when she witnessed his now upright position. She caught Shebo's eye and shook her head but chose to ignore it, heading back inside with speed.

John and Shebo laughed again.

They shared a comfortable silence just enjoying the shaded area with some cold tea that was flavoured with a sweet fruit not unlike apples. John stretched his bad leg and grimaced at the tight pain within. He sighed. Yes, he was obviously happy to be alive and here with Teyla, but the situation they were in was not ideal. He worried for the others constantly. They didn't even know both he and Teyla were alive. How must they be feeling?

Shebo was always watching him out of the corner of his eye. Without his head-dress on his long white hair floated in the soft breeze and then whipped around his throat. He was an impressive looking older man; not unlike a superior looking Omar Sharif/sheik man from back home, and even now where they sat in the open air facing the network of amber stone caves – a desert block of small houses – he called home for now, John felt the man was desperate to know his story. His thoughts proved correct.

"I have something to ask you, my friend."

John nodded. "Young Jotan. I have a soft spot for her. Physically she has recovered, but her memory is yet to return. I have watched you look at her with an expression I cannot understand. Perhaps…love? Do you know her, young man? Please tell me."

John grimaced. He had wanted the ability to actually physically speak before that little secret came out. To tell her himself first. There had been no way to let anyone know anything about them anyway, what with the absence of computers, for their first language was unknown to him.

But these people had been nothing but kind and generous to them both, so he nodded. Shebo clapped his hands. "I knew it! I am so happy for you both. She seemed to take such an interest in your survival when you were first brought here – it must have been instinct."

John could only smile again. He pointed to his head – the place where Teyla had been hurt. Shebo understood. "She recovered quickly. Aliass thinks her memory will return. She shouts out names and places or events frequently. Please, allow me …"

He came to crouch in front of John, eyes bright and shining. "Rodney?"

John laughed so much that an involuntary croak was forced out again. He put a finger to his lips but shook his head, waiting on any other name to come his way.

"Torren?"

John shook his head again. This time Shebo noticed a sad glint to his eyes. He pressed on … "John?"

John closed his eyes, then pointed at his chest, nodding in agreement. Shebo grabbed his hand and shook it. Pleasure to meet you … John! Jotan, is she your wife?"

John slowly shook his head, but his eyes must have given something away. "Ah, but there is something…"

John sighed and nodded.

Then they heard laughter from the two woman, so Shebo quickly moved to a seat, although he winked at him before he went. John hoped he would keep that private until John got his voice back and Teyla started to remember.

Seeing them acting suspicious, Aliass crossed her arms, "Have you been talking, young man?" She asked.

John shook his head and pointed to Shebo. "Ah, but you have! What tales have you been telling, old man?"

"None, my sweet. Now tell me, how are the stores?"

Not fooled, Aliass did not answer him, but hit him up the back of his head as she moved away, leaving a giggling Teyla standing between him and John.

"Do you wish to stay outside a while longer, or shall we get you inside?"

John pointed to his mattress. He would stay.

"Why don't you keep him company, my dear, whilst I see what my wife requires of me now?"

In that moment, John loved that man with everything he had.

Shebo ruffled his head as he left, leaving Teyla looking like she had missed something.

John patted the mattress again, so Teyla sat. "Are you feeling okay?"

John nodded and then pointed at her head. "I am fine, also, thank you for…asking?" She giggled. "I have never known anyone I could have a conversation with without actually receiving a reply."

John smiled along with her. He reached out and dared to touch her head. Teyla sprang back, then apologised. "Oh, sorry. I don't know…I am still a bit jumpy about it. You may touch it if you want. I don't even remember how it happened."

John grimaced and pulled back his hand. "Please…please do. I don't mind." She took hold of his hand and brought it to her head. He inspected the scar closely, then smoothed down her hair growing around the edges, before cupping her cheek briefly. He mouthed, "Thank you."

Teyla smiled also. "You can try your voice out soon, Aliass says." When she understood his frustration.

John blew out and touched his heart.

"We should go inside and eat now, Aliass has cooked one of the small creatures for us." She said softly, but not without a puzzled look on her face all of a sudden as if she was remembering something.

John wanted to stay longer with her, but he allowed Teyla to go and get two of Shebo's sons' to help him limp/walk back to his spot inside, Teyla shadowing his side and then sitting beside him. They had taken refuge with a fairly large family and they always congregated at meal times. Accepting them into their families' lives was quite amazing. Aliass, the matriarch of the family, particularly stood out as a caring soul. About the same height as Teyla, but broad with it, she was a mothering influence that they all were desperate to seek; John noticed. She seemed to love colours, and would adorn herself every day with some jewellery piece, or clothes that she dyed especially for herself with berry juices she kept hidden in the stores. John wondered what else was hidden in them as they were always guarded by somebody.

…..

Three days later, and with forced rest by Aliass, sleep, and plenty of food and slight exercise, John was feeling strength return to him by the bucket load. He was delighted that Shebo had indeed kept their secret, but would wink at him often. Shebo had to shrug when his wife caught him out of the corner of her eye, although she never said anything, or asked what secret they shared.

On another day when Aliass was checking his wounds, she touched his cheek as he was looking at the exposed ugly scar on his thigh. "You walk on it now, but you have a slight limp. It has knitted together well. Do not fear. Are you in any pain?"

John rocked his shoulders. Some.

"It will fade. Looking at your other scars, I see you are no stranger to war and pain. Am I right?" John nodded.

"We always respect people's privacy if they come here needing our help. But, can I ask you. Are you a leader of men?"

John owed her so much. Honesty was one of them. He nodded again, reaching out and tucking a stray hair of hers behind her ear.

He motioned with his hand. She could ask more.

"You are not from here?"

A shake of his head this time.

Aliass nodded. She tapped his leg. "The bandage can stay off for now to let some air into it". The scar was ragged, and felt uncomfortable and tight. He wouldn't admit to her that it did indeed still hurt him some, although he suspected she did know that. She pulled the wide pants leg down of the clothing he had been supplied with, and made a show of tidying his long white tunic, before putting his leather loafers on his feet so he didn't have to bend down.

"Do you have friends still in the village?" She watched him sadly.

John hesitated. He licked his lips, but nodded.

Aliass bowed her head, but didn't look at him when she asked her next question. "You will leave us soon, when you are stronger, to try and set them free?"

John drew her chin up to face him before nodding sadly. He touched his heart again.

"I understand…although I will not be happy if you get captured or hurt again."

This time, John went against the normal for him, and drew her in for a quick embrace. She had saved his life. He would try and not waste that gift, but he had to save his friends and get them all back to Atlantis.

"I understand." She said. "Jotan?" She quickly asked.

John's heart started to race. "We named her that, but I believe you know the real one?"

John looked over to where Shebo sat cleaning some knives in surprise.

"No. my husband has told me nothing, although I suspected you two had talked. But when you and Jotan are together it is obvious to anyone that there is some sort of ...attraction there. You are together?" She clasped her hands in delight.

At John's shake of the head, she cuffed him up the back of it. "Fool, then!"

John laughed. She would find out their story when he could talk again.

Aliass watched Teyla talking with some other younger woman and nudged John's side. John cringed.

"And your name?"

He cocked his head to the side, how could he make that known.

Aliass smiled, a kind smile. "Why don't you just open your mouth and tell me?"

John wrinkled his nose up, she had played him. "It is time to tell me your name, young man. Just stop if it grates too sorely."

John swallowed and licked his lips. "Jo…" he coughed, slightly. "John. My…name…is John."

"Darling, man. It is a pleasure to meet you."

"Thank…you, Aliass. For…everything." John coughed again. "You saved our lives. We are… in your debt."

"Silence. No need. And speak little and quietly for another couple of days yet. Just one more question…"

"Teyla. Her name…is…Teyla. She is…my…team mate, but…I wish…for more."

"Teyla." She repeated the name. "A beautiful name for a beautiful woman. John…a strong name." Aliass stood with her hand on John's shoulder for support. "She has gone outside with the others, why don't you join her and let her know you can speak again. Please, do not engage her in the truth just yet, though. She must come to that herself."

John understood. He kissed her hand and walked towards the exit of the Caves.

He caught up with Teyla who was tying up the animals for the night.

"Hello. He said.

"You can speak. I am delighted!" Teyla said, rushing to grab his hands. His name was on her list of questions also. She showed no sign of recognition when he told her.

"Aliass...she said... I have to talk...little...and..."

Teyla nodded. "I understand. Although I long to know more." She blushed. John looked away.

Before going in for the evening meal, animals seen to, they sat watching the sun go down, but still leaving a hot temperature behind.

"What are you thinking?" Teyla asked.

"To see the sun... in wintertime ...would be good."

Teyla smiled and raised her face to the imaginary heat."

"Mm, yes. That would be something I would wish for also."

"…and for you to know who I am." John whispered, but she never heard him. Shebo took that moment to call them in.

"Come on, we do not want to face the wrath of Aliass!" Teyla squealed.

John laughed. "No, T...Jotan." He followed her and wondered just how to jog her memory. The temptation was there to urge her on now that he had his voice back. If Carson was here, he could have asked for advice. Without his medical input, John would hold off. For now, he would enjoy his voice back; although still not strong enough to hold much of a conversation. At the very least, he could say his thanks to all the wonderful people who had taken them in.

There was a warmth to these Trakda Sand Dwellers that appealed to John. In fact, if it were not for Atlantis, and those he was responsible for, he could stay with them very easily. It was a hard life, though, and he had much respect for them. It was also a shame that not far from their home was also a tyrannical, egocentric, arrogant and cruel dictator just out to kill people for the fun of it. He was also holding his men – if they hadn't been killed or rescued, by now. John was hoping for the latter. Trouble was, if that was the case, then they were well and truly stuck on this planet because they had no reason to come looking for them.

John quickened his step as he had lagged behind. Shebo waved him forward.

"C'mon slow coach. Get that leg of yours in gear, there's people here wanting to hear your voice!"

…..

There were signs of things coming to a head in the village. The training was now three times a day and their food and water allowances trebled to give them much be needed strength. Ronon was chosen to practise fighting the most – no surprise there. Knowing how he was fighting the wraith, Rodney knew he was holding back his punches, so he received more than his fair share of bruises – there was no way he was hurting these innocent men more than he could get away with. Andy, too, was thrown in with the fighters. His young body was agile and fast – he was the opposite of Ronon, though. He started looking for fights to expel his tension. Immediately it became obvious Rodney was no fighter, so he was put to the shooting range. He was average – it was enough for the men here. It turned out that all the villages in the immediate area held the games every year at this time. Lucky them! Carson had been singled out by the prisoners who had whispered to some of the guards he was a doctor. Every morning now, he was marched to an office to attend to any who needed his doctoring. Much to his relief he was given his bags back to use whilst in his room – minus any sharp implements. Carson grinned; they did not know about sedatives – these he stashed in secrecy. They might come in handy.

Rodney stood squinting out through their usual gap to the outside world one night, remarking the sun was as orange as the sand that night; back-dropped against a deep, dark blue. It was stunning. In the far distance was a small hill that you could still see over the reveller's heads. Rodney liked to look out as far from here as he could. Imagining he was there, looking back, instead of imprisoned.

He was looking that way when one of the camel beasts with what seemed to be a rider on it, stopped just in the arch of the sun and seemed to look his way. Like he was looking right at him. He seemed so close suddenly.

He startled when he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Rodney?"

"Carson. What is it?"

"Nothing. I was just asking why you took a step back. What did you see?"

"Nothing." He repeated. He looked back out and the traveller was gone. "Just somebody on one of these huge, ugly beasts."

The next morning, the drums started.

It was a call for the Games to start. All from Atlantis felt the nerves kick in. Ronon was lying on his back on one of the benches in the training arena and was pumping some weights up and down. His muscles were burning, but on and on he went with Andy adding heavier ones and heavier ones.

"You absolutely suit Rodney's nickname for you." He quipped.

Ronon puffed a quick nod out, before finally sitting up, sweat pouring off of him.

"Andy." He said. "You have to watch when we are on show out there. The prisoners here seem to be a friendly enough bunch…now. But you have witnessed how quickly the guards can kill. It's going to be everyone for themselves out there. Mark my words." Andy let go of the filled sand bags he had been pumping and sat down with a resigned thump. "What if we are to fight each other?" Ronon flung his dreads over his shoulder. "Then you take me down. No argument."

Andy shook his head.

"No can do. That would look obvious."

Ronon glared this time, and punched him in the stomach – lightly for him, but Andy winced. "Okay, got it… I take you down!" He did not relish a long fighting bout with Ronon. Even if it was for show.

Ronon put a finger to his lips. For a while he had thought they were being watched, now their hidden visitor's footsteps could be heard muffled as they ran along the stone corridor leading back to their captor's private residence.

Damn. Somebody had heard them. Ronon and Andy shared a look. They would have to be careful what they said in public from now on. A side door opened and a man dressed in long flowing purple robes stepped out. His head and most of his face was wrapped in purple and black material, and at his side, a long broad sword, heavily jewelled, nestled in a thick leather holder. He cast them a quick look before nodding at Ronon and following where their visitor had also vanished to. They shared another look.

"Time to see to the others." Ronon said. He nodded to their guards and they marched them back to their quarters.

…..

Inside the village's Hall of Light, where the purple robes man walked, was the quietest place to be in the land just now. Chuuann relished the moment before he was to meet with the captor of the prisoners. He was focused on his job. His footsteps were steady and sure. But did he look forward to this particular time of year? – no. Still, he would much rather be on this side of the games. But like all who were free of these walls – any walls, they all knew it was fleeting and could change very quickly. His purple robes were a sign of who is employer was to the knowing eye, but he was not proud that he slaved for this particular master. Until he earned enough to get his freedom, he had no choice but to obey. Even his knowledge of his employer put shivers through him on a daily basis. But he had just noticed a man he had met before on a different world. If his mouth had not been hidden by the thick material that surrounded it, you would have noticed the broad smile that had instantly appeared on his face.

Today was a different day all of a sudden.

Today he walked with a spring in his step. He had someone to see after his visit here. Oh yes, he had somebody to see.

SGA SGA SGA

To be continued …..