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sga_flashficWhoever thought of this challenge should be shot. My muse is OD-ing on the crack and will not let me write anything else! *headdesk*
TITLE: To Serve A Queen
AUTHOR: Tielan
PAIRING: Elizabeth Weir/Ronan Dex
RATING: 17+
NOTES: The realm of the Blood is not mine, it's Anne Bishop's. I shouldn't have to tell you that the Atlantis characters aren't mine, either.
SUMMARY:
Ronan has lived in slavery for seven years, used and abused by the Queens who owned him. He swore never to willingly serve one of their kind. But when he is bought by Elizabeth Weir, the Queen of Atlantis territory, he must adjust to a new life - a life that promises honour and service - and love - he never dreamed of.
He came to her court, wary and embittered, and Elizabeth was determined that he would know his freedom. She sees the man he was born to be - a Warlord Prince with all the strength and power of his caste. And sees a man who she might claim as her Consort, if he could only trust her with his soul.
To Serve A Queen
Ronan counted out the twenty-five lashes in tones of gritted pain and never lost count.
To lose count would be to show weakness and he would never do that before Heleri and her court. They could beat him until he died and he would not break for them: he was stronger than that.
He was stronger than them.
And when they were finished, and the air was salty with his blood, they left him in the sunlight of the gardens, hanging by his arms between the two stone pillars to which he'd been chained for the punishment, while the court went about their daily entertainments.
His neck and shoulders ached, his back screamed, but he gritted his teeth and bore the pain. In seven years they had beaten him and used him, forced him to play their games in the court and in their beds, and he had borne it, stubborn and determined never to submit.
They might take his choices, but they could not take his honour.
He might be a slave, but he did not serve these Queens.
He did not and he never would.
As he hung by his arms, concentrating on his breathing rather than the pain in his flesh, Ronan repeated the words by which he had held himself for seven long years.
I am Ronan Dex, Red-Jewelled Warlord Prince of the Blood. And I will serve with honour or not at all.
Seven years ago, the refrain had been easier to remember.
Seven years ago, he'd been newly enslaved, holding onto the belief that someday he'd be free again.
Seven years ago was seven years ago.
Pain was today.
Voices drew near him, conversational and light, and his eyes drifted closed, concentrating on identifying the two women who approached him.
Heleri was obvious enough, her voice shrill and petulant as she spoke with her companion. But the other...
In the bright sunlight, his back afire with pain, Ronan shivered.
The second voice crawled down his spine like a finger gently traced, a clear, rich voice of roses and dawn. Her voice put him in mind of evenings in bed and mornings of pleasure, of a life he'd almost forgotten - so far away from this place where he'd only known humiliation and fear. It ignited long-dismissed dreams of a Queen to serve and a witch of the Blood to love, of people who demanded nothing but his protection and returned him their respect.
He didn't need to look at her to know she was a Queen. Her psychic scent coiled around him like a perfume - fresh and light; taming and yet tender; and something stirred within him that he hadn't felt in years.
Then he heard the words she spoke and his soul turned to grit and ashes in his flesh.
"...quite a strong slave, then?"
"Stubborn, more like it," Heleri said. "The only way to keep him in check is to use the ring of obedience. And even that doesn't always stop him."
"A man with spirit," the woman said, sounding appreciative. "How much do you want for him?"
Ronan looked up into green eyes that studied him with cool neutrality and fought back a shudder as one slender finger reached out to tip up his chin and turn his face from side to side, studying him.
He'd seen witches look at him as though he were cattle, and witches regard him with predatory interest; he'd seen witches measure him by his muscles, and witches measure him by his cock.
This woman regarded him with none of that: nothing but a calm emptiness that was worse than any of the prurience or possession he'd previously encountered.
This Queen didn't even think of him as a person.
Beyond the woman, Heleri looked disbelieving. "You want to buy him?"
"You're not willing to sell him?"
Heleri's eyes narrowed. "If you want to use him, I can have him cleaned up." The auburn-haired woman smiled, "I'll exchange him for one of your entourage."
Dark curls were tossed back from skin like dawn alabaster as the woman straightened. "I don't want to use him, Lady Heleri, I wish to purchase him. I have a need for slaves with spirit." Something curled in her voice, a darkness that crawled through Ronan like sweet sleep and bitter poison. He could almost hear the words she didn't say: I like breaking them.
Heleri looked from the dark-haired Queen to him and back. "One thousand gold marks." An exorbitant price for a slave.
The smile was beautiful - and terrible. "You have a deal." The green eyes turned back to Ronan, and he glared at her with all the hatred and defiance he had in him.
Buy my body if you will, but you will never buy my soul.
He wasn't even aware he'd used a psychic thread to cast the words at her until her eyes widened and her smile died.
I don't want your soul. Burning truth and fierce passion in her words, and a disgust that was as painful as a blade in the heart.
Then she gathered her skirts and turned her back on him, striding away from the slave she'd just bought as a hearth-witch purchases meat.
And Ronan watched her go and wondered why he couldn't breathe.
--
NOTES: For those of you familiar with the Black Jewels Trilogy, I imagine the lineup as such:
Elizabeth - Red-Jewelled Queen, Queen of Atlantis
Teyla - Grey-Jewelled Black Widow, First Circle of Elizabeth
John - Sapphire Jewelled Warlord Prince, First Escort
Rodney - Green Jewelled Prince
Carson - Green Jewelled Prince, Steward
Ronan - Red-Jewelled Warlord Prince, Consort
ETA: Part Two (25/09/2005)
TITLE: To Serve A Queen
AUTHOR: Tielan
PAIRING: Elizabeth Weir/Ronan Dex
RATING: 17+
NOTES: The realm of the Blood is not mine, it's Anne Bishop's. I shouldn't have to tell you that the Atlantis characters aren't mine, either.
SUMMARY:
Ronan has lived in slavery for seven years, used and abused by the Queens who owned him. He swore never to willingly serve one of their kind. But when he is bought by Elizabeth Weir, the Queen of Atlantis territory, he must adjust to a new life - a life that promises honour and service - and love - he never dreamed of.
He came to her court, wary and embittered, and Elizabeth was determined that he would know his freedom. She sees the man he was born to be - a Warlord Prince with all the strength and power of his caste. And sees a man who she might claim as her Consort, if he could only trust her with his soul.
To Serve A Queen
Ronan counted out the twenty-five lashes in tones of gritted pain and never lost count.
To lose count would be to show weakness and he would never do that before Heleri and her court. They could beat him until he died and he would not break for them: he was stronger than that.
He was stronger than them.
And when they were finished, and the air was salty with his blood, they left him in the sunlight of the gardens, hanging by his arms between the two stone pillars to which he'd been chained for the punishment, while the court went about their daily entertainments.
His neck and shoulders ached, his back screamed, but he gritted his teeth and bore the pain. In seven years they had beaten him and used him, forced him to play their games in the court and in their beds, and he had borne it, stubborn and determined never to submit.
They might take his choices, but they could not take his honour.
He might be a slave, but he did not serve these Queens.
He did not and he never would.
As he hung by his arms, concentrating on his breathing rather than the pain in his flesh, Ronan repeated the words by which he had held himself for seven long years.
I am Ronan Dex, Red-Jewelled Warlord Prince of the Blood. And I will serve with honour or not at all.
Seven years ago, the refrain had been easier to remember.
Seven years ago, he'd been newly enslaved, holding onto the belief that someday he'd be free again.
Seven years ago was seven years ago.
Pain was today.
Voices drew near him, conversational and light, and his eyes drifted closed, concentrating on identifying the two women who approached him.
Heleri was obvious enough, her voice shrill and petulant as she spoke with her companion. But the other...
In the bright sunlight, his back afire with pain, Ronan shivered.
The second voice crawled down his spine like a finger gently traced, a clear, rich voice of roses and dawn. Her voice put him in mind of evenings in bed and mornings of pleasure, of a life he'd almost forgotten - so far away from this place where he'd only known humiliation and fear. It ignited long-dismissed dreams of a Queen to serve and a witch of the Blood to love, of people who demanded nothing but his protection and returned him their respect.
He didn't need to look at her to know she was a Queen. Her psychic scent coiled around him like a perfume - fresh and light; taming and yet tender; and something stirred within him that he hadn't felt in years.
Then he heard the words she spoke and his soul turned to grit and ashes in his flesh.
"...quite a strong slave, then?"
"Stubborn, more like it," Heleri said. "The only way to keep him in check is to use the ring of obedience. And even that doesn't always stop him."
"A man with spirit," the woman said, sounding appreciative. "How much do you want for him?"
Ronan looked up into green eyes that studied him with cool neutrality and fought back a shudder as one slender finger reached out to tip up his chin and turn his face from side to side, studying him.
He'd seen witches look at him as though he were cattle, and witches regard him with predatory interest; he'd seen witches measure him by his muscles, and witches measure him by his cock.
This woman regarded him with none of that: nothing but a calm emptiness that was worse than any of the prurience or possession he'd previously encountered.
This Queen didn't even think of him as a person.
Beyond the woman, Heleri looked disbelieving. "You want to buy him?"
"You're not willing to sell him?"
Heleri's eyes narrowed. "If you want to use him, I can have him cleaned up." The auburn-haired woman smiled, "I'll exchange him for one of your entourage."
Dark curls were tossed back from skin like dawn alabaster as the woman straightened. "I don't want to use him, Lady Heleri, I wish to purchase him. I have a need for slaves with spirit." Something curled in her voice, a darkness that crawled through Ronan like sweet sleep and bitter poison. He could almost hear the words she didn't say: I like breaking them.
Heleri looked from the dark-haired Queen to him and back. "One thousand gold marks." An exorbitant price for a slave.
The smile was beautiful - and terrible. "You have a deal." The green eyes turned back to Ronan, and he glared at her with all the hatred and defiance he had in him.
Buy my body if you will, but you will never buy my soul.
He wasn't even aware he'd used a psychic thread to cast the words at her until her eyes widened and her smile died.
I don't want your soul. Burning truth and fierce passion in her words, and a disgust that was as painful as a blade in the heart.
Then she gathered her skirts and turned her back on him, striding away from the slave she'd just bought as a hearth-witch purchases meat.
And Ronan watched her go and wondered why he couldn't breathe.
--
NOTES: For those of you familiar with the Black Jewels Trilogy, I imagine the lineup as such:
Elizabeth - Red-Jewelled Queen, Queen of Atlantis
Teyla - Grey-Jewelled Black Widow, First Circle of Elizabeth
John - Sapphire Jewelled Warlord Prince, First Escort
Rodney - Green Jewelled Prince
Carson - Green Jewelled Prince, Steward
Ronan - Red-Jewelled Warlord Prince, Consort
ETA: Part Two (25/09/2005)
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-19 01:10 pm (UTC)I can totally see Ronon being all GRRR and maybe meeting Daemon Sadi at some point or something and the two of them would be all GRRRRRRR together (or at each other) and it would be hilarious.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-10-23 02:37 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-10-23 03:02 am (UTC)If you'd just started watching the fucking show when I started rambling about it we wouldn't run into this kind of problem. Loser. (PS keep reading, I think you'll enjoy this.)
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-19 01:35 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-19 02:09 pm (UTC)lol, i know! All i do now is think about all the different situations i can get the sga characters into, lol. This was nice, i really liked the way you described Elizabeth's voice. I've never read Anne Bishop, I'll have to check her out, sounds interesting. I've been enjoying all the fic you've posted here.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-19 03:49 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-19 04:07 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-19 04:12 pm (UTC)If you can pull this off, it would be *VERY* darned interesting. You seem to have Bishop's tone down pretty well.
As it is, that's some good crack your smoking there...:>
There IS gonna be more, right?
((I would have put Rodney down as a gray warlord, but that's just me.))
I'm only going to say this once
Date: 2005-09-19 04:59 pm (UTC)Finish, darn you!
(p.s. um, please?)
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-19 06:24 pm (UTC)Cracktastic. I'd love to see more too.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-19 06:31 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-20 07:40 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-20 08:50 pm (UTC)And also, I need to go look up the jewle ranking. Can't remember is Green or Sapphire is higher.
Well done. Keep writing. *woobie eyes* Please keep writing.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-21 12:59 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-22 07:43 pm (UTC)*blink*
now I can't get this particular crossover out of my head *ahgrr*
Ronon does fit the whole Blood male phenomena really well
hmm, you don't mind if I write something along these lines but slash do you?
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-23 09:32 pm (UTC)Really love the Ronan/Weir pairing - strange, since I haven't even seen any Atlantis S2!
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-13 07:42 pm (UTC)This is very interesting! As Teal'c would say, "Indeed!"
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-13 07:43 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-15 11:59 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-16 04:10 am (UTC)I am really looking forward to reading the next chapters.
I like how you cast the characters of Atlantis as well. I can definately see Teyla as a Dark-Jewelled Balck Widow, and Carson as the Steward
(no subject)
Date: 2006-07-01 11:57 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-09-18 09:45 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-12 04:47 am (UTC)