STARGATE ATLANTIS

TO SEE THE SUN IN WINTERTIME

Chapter Four

SGA SGA SGA

Teyla was pulled off her mount swiftly by John. The others followed his lead, unsure what had just happened, but pulled their animals down into a protective circle inside which they all huddled.

"Are they near-by?" John asked Teyla.

Teyla swallowed a couple of times, and shook her head. "No. Forgive me. I …I just think it had been a time since I felt a wraith presence – it caught me unawares." John smiled when Shebo came forward with his eldest son, Shimir. "Sorry to frighten you like that. Teyla can sense when these creatures we told you about are near."

"I think there is just one. It's a faint feeling of one being here. It is very strange, John."

"Nothing we can do about it until you sense it closer. Let's just continue on."

"My dear, are you well?" Shebo inquired, instantly worried for her."

"Yes, Shebo. As I said to John, I was just shaken for a minute." Teyla held onto Johns arm. "I sense …. Familiarity."

John stepped back and really looked at her. "No, not Michael. He is dead!"

Teyla was quick to appease him." No. I would know if it was him. I do believe he died that day."

"Then who?" John's face became serious.

Teyla could only shake her head.

"Well, I suppose time will tell." John was less than happy that Teyla had sensed wraith so near to his new friends; and old, so he made a decision. "Shebo. I am going to ask you and your family to leave here immediately and return home. I cannot have your deaths or captures by these beasts on my conscious – not when I could have stopped it."

Shebo's eyes were kind and patient. He clasped John's shoulder. "My friend. That is not your decision to make. We will be careful, I promise you that."

"But…"

"No, 'buts'."

"You, and your family are a force to be reckoned with, Shebo."

Shebo chuckled and waved to his family to mount up once again. "So I have been told, my friend." He accepted a leg up onto his Drokfo again, adjusting his Namco-feathered head-geared until his mouth was covered from the heat that was steadily building. "Remember, us Sand Dwellers are a family tight packed like the scorched Trakda Caves behind you. You, and Teyla are a part of that. We will not let you down."

Why his little speech affected him the way it did, John did not know, but he felt a lump appear in his throat. He nodded his thanks; rather than reply. Teyla grabbed Shebo's ankle and smiled at the family members. "Please. Run if we tell you to next time."

Shebo nodded. "We will watch you from afar as agreed. Shebo reached into his inside pocket and threw a pair of soft leather gloves in John's direction. "Put these on and shoot with them also if you can. The sun has burned you a better shade more suiting people here. But your hands need hidden from view of the games. There are too many people there just waiting on a chance to steal the title away from the winner and claim it as their own. Pale skin here means you are not from here."

John immediately put them on. They fitted snuggly. "Aliass insisted!" Shebo winked and urged his Drokfo onwards, not looking back at John in case one or the other broke down their plans.

When they had all ridden a distance from them, John turned to Teyla and took her hand. "Still sensing it?"

"Yes. There is definitely a presence. We need to be careful."

John followed Shebo's lead and covered his mouth with the black linen as he and Teyla mounted their beasts. John had tucked a single Namco feather under the sleeve of his left arm. Its red tip sticking out in observance to his friend, Shebo. His rifle crossed the front of his body; which concealed many hidden knives – the way Ronon had taught him.

Teyla was equally clad in black, and her newly prized sticks, hanging on her back, had been smoothed and sized to her exacting needs. She too sported a Namco feather. This one hung as a necklace around her neck. With most wearing either white or black, they could spot each other if separated.

On they walked, slowly and carefully. Watching everything about them. Shebo was now out of sight; swallowed up into the large crowd. He knew he could not see him, but he also knew some family member would always be assigned to watch over them, knowing Shebo.

…..

It was strange being at the village again; albeit outside. It was daunting and down-right dangerous. John supposed if they were understood to be ex-prisoners, they would be executed on sight. He was going with the idea that they wouldn't expect anybody to voluntarily come back here if they could help it. Rodney, Ronon, Carson and Andy were inside somewhere. That was the very reason he, and Teyla, were here now.

There was a small open-sided tent that two men sat with coloured ribbons hanging on the wall behind them. Shebo told them to go to them and register for their skill set. Once there, John was handed two gold ribbons for the shooting part – two days' worth competition. Teyla's ribbons were red.

Committed, and curious to look for their team-mates now that they had gained entry, John and Teyla pinned their ribbons as evidence to their chests and walked purposely through the open, spiked, wooden gates.

Making their way to the main area – an extra four had now been placed around it – John watched a young man without head coverings – a prisoner – sat on top of long bench, in a sitting position that looked forced. He stare was blank and he stared at nothing. Arms resting weakly by his side, he turned as if to speak, before toppling to the ground. He flopped about for a second and managed to raise one leg up before his breathing quickened and the red spot John had noticed earlier blossomed into a large area. He had bled out slowly but surely. His life had been taken from behind – a coward's attack.

Having fallen and not gotten up. John peered over to the culprit and grasped Teyla's arm to pull her away.

"I can't remember his name but he lived in the same quadrant as us."

"Would you have expected this of him?" She pointed at the dead prisoner. 'A fighter!"

"No. Not really. But this explains why so many of us were kept here."

"For the games?"

John nodded. Instantly wondering what their captor had in store for his friends. Then he saw the heavily bejewelled tyrant. John's heart thudded in his chest and his hand automatically reached for his rifle.

"John?" Teyla felt his emotions change immediately.

John nodded in the large man's direction. Teyla stiffened. She remembered nothing of being shot, just that she had had no chance to protect herself.

"I could take him out now."

"No." John growled. "Not yet."

…..

Teyla had her spot of competition soon after they arrived. Her opponent was also a prisoner, and Teyla felt unease at the obvious discrimination. Their games prejudice was clearly one sided; no fairness, no reward either way for the enslaved – and definitely no choice. Teyla would have to leave her mark carefully, but she still had to win.

When the time came, Teyla's footsteps became dance-like and familiar. John watched her with his usual awe, and jealousy. This time, there was also a stirring somewhere else he had to keep in check for now. Teyla received a glancing blow to her side, and John about lost it there and then. He didn't think she's appreciate him barrelling in to protect her, so he bit his lip, and curled and uncurled his fingers, just breaking up the leather to make it even softer for him.

Teyla's relief at winning her round – without fighting to the death – was the best thing about the morning so far. She joined John at a colourful stall selling jewellery boxes and the like, and grinned madly when she spotted Shebo winking at her. He had obviously watched her fight and had approved her win.

During the hours before John was due to participate, they walked about and looked in rooms and doors previously unseen; just looking for signs of their bags, and of their friends. Their captor passed them often; his trademark bejewelled hands skilling over the trinkets for sale. John had the urge again to stop the man in his tracks and teach him a lesson he'd never forget, but he was heavily flanked with guards every time.

Teyla tensed suddenly. The feeling was back. John looked worriedly down at her. "Here?" He mouthed.

Teyla drew her face covering tighter, and nodded back.

There was nothing John could do for now. His ribbon colour now flew overhead in the only out-door arena. Safer to be further from the crowds in case their shot was off.

The oddest thing about the way the games were handled was that the way the crowds wanted blood. It was disconcerting and totally unnecessary. The village that won the prestigious award to host the event knew that this had to stretch to three days of festivities. No need to lose so many so soon.

John left Teyla at the corner of his allotted space, and whipped the long robe behind him to give his arm freedom. The first opponent shot his target six times out of the ten. The man was very good as the target was quite a distance away – and moved backwards and forwards in a sliding dance.

John widened his eyes, stretching them, and then narrowed them; exercising them. He took the lowering of his ribbon as his time to shoot and stepped up to his place.

He took the first four as easily as just a look could take them. The speed was soon knocked up a pace and when the time came that he had a handle on it, John easily took the next five. The last one, held in the wooden circle, painted white and rimmed with gold, was suddenly thrust backwards and up at lightning speed. The crowd roared as it whipped up and around their heads, so that any shot taken without checking where it was, could easily have entered flesh behind, beside and in front of it. It was a roulette John was not willing to risk, so he slowed his breathing; watching it and taking note of the countdown which advised he was almost out of time. He had to win, or risk failure, and ultimately the chance to free his friends.

John's eyes flashed to the target. He followed it with eyes and rifle stock, stretched the gloved hand and thought of it as one of the Namco. He fired and the wood splitting into several pieces told the crowd he had reached ten.

Ignoring the pats on his back and the victory that came with his win, John almost ran back into the village to inspect the other arenas.

He and Teyla could see no sign of their friends, and grew worried. "They might have gone already." Teyla spoke up with a very real truth.

John gulped, and nodded. "Then nothing else changes. We win. We take our winnings, and find our way to the Gate ourselves with Shebo's help."

Just then, Teyla felt the presence again, and stiffened. John noticed and kept her still whilst he looked at everyone who had walked by close to them. Most people were in black or white clothing, reserving head-dresses for adornments of coloured items and the likes.

So, when a man in flowing purple robes strolled his way, with a wide margin surrounding him, like no-body dared go any nearer, John's hackles rose on the back of his neck, and his hand found its own way to his rifle once again.

Teyla breathed out fast in gulps. "John?"

He risked a glance at her, before the man came nearer. She simply shook her head; clearly not understanding what she was feeling.

All the noises around John shrunk back to an annoying whisper. His only focus was the purple cladded undesirable who had now stopped beside him. The man kept his head low, his face partially hidden by purple cloth; but his dark skin and strange, large eyes were focused solely on John in front of him as if in surprise, but turning sinister.

John was unnerved and cautious. He was also then jostled out of his stance by a crowd that rushed to see the first of the bare-knuckled fighting…as they talked loudly of a tall, muscled man who had a good chance of winning the bouts – and the promised freedom that, as a turn of events, had been offered if the prisoner won the three of his fights.

Still, the strange man leaned forward – he took a chance to lean in and whisper something, John had not thought to hear.

"Colonel!"

John pushed against the people, his mind reeling. The man had been absorbed by the crowd much to John's frustration. He obviously knew who he was. His heart sped up, and he deliberately ignored Teyla, hoping that if he was caught by the guards by the way he was acting, she would remain away from sight.

...

Chuuann cursed himself. He was certain he could have remained focused on his job ahead - that what was for his master. But the realisation that he was presently walking into to the path of his former commander in chief, was too much of a thrill for him. With Ronon being spotted the other day, he had hoped his old commander would be in the vicinity. He had proved correct when a movement of his head showed clearly his features to him. His heart picked up a beat then. From the time when he had been his old self, he had needed some sort of revenge – for when he had gone by the name; Aiden, and a certain Lt Colonel John Sheppard had abandoned him.

Chuuann, as the wraith had named him when they had picked him up back then, had interrogated him to almost death, hooked him on enzyme and now used him as their envoy. That was the summed-up version of his story. The reward today for working for them: a constant supply of enzyme – the good stuff. All he needed.

Except his revenge.

Chuaann knew he was smart enough to be able to fulfil both his wants; being an envoy AND disposing of Colonel Sheppard. Besides, the people on this planet knew who he represented - the fools just didn't truly understand what they were. They just saw him, and the jewels and wealth that they were drawn into when he offered them to them, in return they would host the games. Well, games for them – something else for his masters.

At that he had to laugh, they had never even cast eyes on them when the vote was cast half a season ago, and yet they obey their every command; not realising, of course, that they had just been moulded and now marshalled into an arena where a single cull could take many before word got out during varied, smaller ones allowing everyone to hide.

The one cull would take place on the third day when all were congregated. Yes, he had done well with this place, very well indeed. He could allow himself a slight detour and reward.

…..

John regained his feet; eyes narrowed into a suspicious split. His mind was in overdrive wondering if he had heard right. A surprised look on Teyla's voice across the way, then added to his choices.

Ronon was brought forward, and his sense of duty to save him went up a notch.

He was bare chested and looking hungry for a fight. John watched as Ronon was pushed into the sandy arena, along with a taller, but thinner man, of a village clan he had met with Shebo back in the Trakda Caves. He did not know his name but instantly knew the man did not stand a chance with Ronon. Relieved as he was to see his friend alive and that he was safe for now, John knew he had to focus his attentions on the purple robed stranger as his new priority or risk everything.

John's eyes then bulged in pain and horror. After an un-expected mini explosion in front of his face, and an open-handed chop at the base of his skull, he immediately went down onto his knees, but he saw nothing in front of him save a bright flashing light. Half-blinded and half-conscious, John was already scrabbling away to seek Teyla's help while reaching for one of his knives, when another precise blow was struck on top of his head. Dazed, John ended on his backside as his legs refused to hold him.

The crowd was unsure as to what was going on also and called over some guards to assist the fallen man.

The last thing John wanted.

He felt a tug on his arm. Teyla.

"You must get up." She simply said. Her tone was strict, he knew he had to obey. It took will and determination. He got up on shaky legs and accepted the hold of someone else that helped him up, rather than be nearer to Teyla.

"What goes on here?" One of the guards asked.

More of the crown swarmed forward, and it gave John the chance to simply fall back into them and try and hide his face with some of the linens surrounding his head. With the pain he was in, he feared he was terribly burned. The purple robed man had disappeared as far as he could see. What was going on? He had called him, ' Colonel!'

After a few staggering steps, and the guard had been misplaced by the ever-growing crowd, Teyla appeared in front of him as he stumbled slightly into a pillar, hands shaking over his face.

"John, please. You must remain bowed. Hide your eyes until I can look at them."

John then felt Teyla grab his arm and take him to where their Drokfo were cobbled. She bade him sit down, and then knelt in the sand in front of him and gasped at the sight of his sore eyes as he raised his head. It looked incredibly painful and she winced. The left eye was swollen shut and the skin around was circled black and pink, whilst weeping with whatever explosive powder had been released deliberately in front of him.

"What happened? Who was the man in purple that did this to you?" Teyla was panicked. She reached for water.

John refused to accept what he now believed to be true, so did not answer. He just allowed her to push him back against the huge beast's belly, and brace for the cold water he knew she needed to pour over his face; but when it hit his overly hot skin, it made him cry out with the shock of it. Teyla grabbed his shoulder in support and held him up as he swayed to the side.

Eventually, John had to accept the inevitable. "It was Aiden Ford." He gasped out.

Teyla stilled. "Are you sure? I'm sorry, of course you are. The last time we saw him, he was pumped full of enzyme. Goodness, John, he must have stayed with the wraith so he could remain on it. It makes you feel so invincible. They would have turned him, John. Do not blame yourself. I have known some in the past this has happened to."

John shifted on the sand. He knew what she said was true. Still Aiden's initial loss and now this attack on him, by him, was hitting him hard.

"How does your face feel now?"

John's breathing had slowed down after the initial shock, but he raised a shaking hand up to his face. Teyla gently batted it away. "Do not touch. I must wrap a bandage around your head to give your eye some rest."

Firstly, Teyla delicately opened his eye for him to thankfully see that it was good inside. The skin, however, was fiery red and must hurt him greatly.

"Oh John. I am sorry. If only Carson was here." Teyla said. "It is frustrating he is just over that wall somewhere."

John lightly groaned. He was in much pain. More than that, he was also in mental anguish. "Why…" he coughed, "…why would he do that to me? This was his chance to come home."

Teyla grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently, before cupping the good side of his face. "He would have changed, John. Years and years would have built up a different view of you. It looked like he had exacted revenge at last, such was the glee in his expression when he turned away from you."

John was silent whilst Teyla finished tying off the bandage. Then, "Is it bad?"

"I cannot tell if it will scar. We need to get you to a doctor."

"No. We have to finish this…"

"John, you are in much pain. Your eyesight has been affected. Will you even be able to hold your rifle still tomorrow, for it shakes so much? Never mind your eye being covered up, also."

"It's adrenalin. It will stop shaking soon."

"John, Teyla!" Shebo whispered as he fell to his knees in front of them.

"You should not have come." John snarled, but Teyla silenced him with a look. "Do not listen to him, he is in pain. Did you see what happened?"

Shebo rummaged in a bag he brought with him. "One of my sons did. We have heard that the purple robed man - Chuuann is his name - did this to you, John. He is the envoy of the people who have organised these games – for what reason it is this village, some cannot understand; most do not care. Do you know him?"

Teyla licked her lips. "We think we do. Do you have some salve or something for the burns over his eye?"

John groaned when Shebo asked for the bandage to be taken off for him to have a look. "You should not be seen with us…too dangerous." He coughed.

"This has affected your breathing?"

John wafted his hand in the air. "No. Just…just look at my face! Sorry…please?"

Shebo knew he was in agony, so ignored his mood. Aliass had a general salve that seemed to fit a lot of ailments, so he liberally spread it over the affected areas, noting the way he would squeeze Teyla's hand when the touch was too painful.

"There, all done. I don't think it has damaged your eye in anyway, but it must be allowed to heal."

"Scarring?" John tentatively asked.

After sharing a look with Shebo, Teyla smiled down at him. "I hope not."

"Carson will sort me out as soon as I get out of here." John said confidently.

"I'm sure he will." Teyla agreed. "Meanwhile. You must sit still and recover, for tomorrow we have to risk taking part in our events again, so we can see a way to get our friends out, hopefully."

John coughed again, and held his chest. He didn't want to admit it to Teyla and Shebo but the annoying tickle was probably the effects of the attack earlier. He coughed again and felt Teyla put his canteen in his hands. He drank long, and it seemed to settle the cough after a fashion.

"Perhaps you should take a nap. I shall remain on watch?" Teyla suggested.

"I must take my leave. But if you need me, come find me, Teyla."

John shook his hand and watched dreamily as Shebo disappeared into the sun. He grimaced slightly when Teyla shook out their piece of carpet; the sand granules sticking to his face. "Oh, sorry, John." Teyla soaked a cloth with some water and dabbed away the deposits.

She looked him in his good eye, that was drooping now. "Sleep. I will watch over you."

"Sorry, Teyla."

"Shush. I will not hear of apologies. It was not your fault. We are still on a plan. We know Ronon is alive. The others must be too. Aiden, will go away and think about today – perhaps he will have changed his opinion of you by tomorrow."

"Or think of more ways to kill me…and he must know Ronon is here now, as well."

"He has no grudge against him."

John sighed. "Other than he is with me!"

"John. Don't think too much about it. It is late afternoon. Once you have had a sleep, we will eat, and then see if we are still allowed within the walls during the night…and find them. That is why we are here."

"Has anybody ever told you, that you are a wise woman, Teyla?"

Teyla laughed. "You have – many times!"

John blinked, but laughed. "I must be correct then."

Teyla pushed him in the direction of their carpet and pillow. She pointed. "Sleep!"

John sighed, but lay down on his right side so as not to disturb his left eye.

The temperature of his cheeks flesh was uncomfortably hot, and he thought he could feel a heat blister form, where he knew it would peel away and leave tender raw flesh, so he was thankful for the salve and fresh bandage to keep it from getting infected. He lay still, trying not to make a sound that would make Teyla think he suffered. No sound of pain left his lips, nor any sign of weakness. He simply allowed his body to let him fall unconscious.

Teyla folded her legs up and leaned into John's side slightly with them, as if to offer him some comfort; know that she was there looking over him.

He had given her a fright. Because of Aiden Ford, their chance of remaining free and saving their friends had almost been taken away from them. He had been a friend of hers; but she had no doubt, if he knew she was here also, she would become a target. It was not a comfortable feeling as she sat watching out for, and taking care of, John, as he was fast asleep.

She leaned down and stroked his hair back from his forehead and bandages, still damp from the water she had just poured over him. The chemical reaction of whatever it was, looked nasty on his face. She just hoped the healing salve would keep the sharp pain at bay, and help with the healing process. Sleep was what he needed now. She would wake him in a couple of hours to check the wound, and then, if he was able, they would take themselves a walk around the village looking for their friends.

….

Chuuann sat watching the village, perched on his mount, a fair distance away from the hustle and bustle of the goings-on there.

He had a strange feeling of satisfaction come over him; one he knew could be repeated a few times until the cumulative result on the third day, when…well, when he – John Sheppard – would be his guest back on the Hive!

…..

"Sit still!" Carson scolded the bloody faced, Ronon Dex.

"Just clean me up, Doc, and be done."

"Stubborn fool. We can't risk infection here. Now let me treat your cuts and bruises with what I have before your next fight tomorrow." Carson sighed heavily while he worked.

Rodney and Andy stood watching him work.

"Are you sure it was him?" Rodney asked for the fifth time.

"I could smell the wraith enzyme off him a mile away. It was definitely Aiden Ford."

"John has been crazy looking for him at times. He would have liked this piece of news very much." Rodney looked thoughtful. "It's not fair he is still alive and John is…"

"Rodney, lad. Eat something before you fall down. Somehow you managed to win your shoot, and Ronon and Andy won their fights – although would you look at them!" Carson smiled.

"After all tomorrow is another day…." Rodney quipped.

"And all that!" Carson finished.

There was some silence whilst Ronon put on his shirt and they ate their dinner.

"Somehow, we all have to win the three days to get a free pardon. Let's focus on that." Ronon said.

"And, me?" Carson asked. He was just being used as a doctor still. No contests for him – so no way to win his freedom.

"Like we would go without you?" Rodney said. "…well!"

"Well I'll tell you this. If the three of you DO get pardoned, and you DO leave. You get to the Stargate, and you come back for me pronto with the Cavalry. Right?"

Three people nodded and Carson smiled.

"Okay, then."

…..

Teyla shifted slightly so she did not get cramp. John slept on, which she was pleased to see. ' He must have hurt badly to agree to this', she thought. She held him tight and kissed his shoulder.

A shiver kept running through her. Aiden's appearance and subsequent proximity to wraith enzyme might have been enough to awaken her wraith detection skills, but did it also mean the Hive was above them as well. It was highly possible.

She moved into a meditative position to relax herself.

SGA SGA SGA

To be continued ….