Nobody

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Category: Darkfic, Angst, Horror, Drama

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: The characters don't belong to me but to the great guys who created Stargate SG-1. Yadda yadda yaddar30; Don't sue, for my dad has good lawyers lol

Summary: Tanith's prisoner reflects about her past and her present. And wishes she had no future. But didn't she bring it upon herself? Unhappy ending, dark thoughts, general evilness. *Very Dark*

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I have always liked the concept of Death being the Great Leveller. I cannot wait to become a nobody.

As far as I can remember, I have always been told I was unique, by all of them - but they never spoke about the reasons.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Mother was a Queen and everyone had to worship her. She wanted me to live forever and ever and ever, but she never allowed me to become like her. Mother was a Queen, so everything had to obey her, even Nature and Time and Normality. So I stayed young for, oh, let's say. . . one or two eternities? I did not count the days, at that time. I was sleeping awake.

But it was not her magic that kept me young, for no Goddess she was when she fell in love with that man. He was like her, but different. He lied to her. He told her that things were not good as they were. He told her that the Great Gods - he called them "System Lords" - were "impostors". She listened because she loved him.

I hated him.

I betrayed her.

But I was right to do it, for she was not herself anymore. She did not like the Great Gods anymore. She did not give orders the same way anymore. She was not my Mother anymore - and it was the pills I took every morning that kept me young.

She never told me that she loved me, and she kept repeating me that Love was weakness. So when I heard her saying "I love you" to that man, I knew that this love would be the fall of our house. I knew Love would be its fall, for Love is weakness, and a ruler cannot be weak.

So one day, when I could not stand those sickening little words anymore, I wrote a letter to a random "System Lord". My hand was shaking, but I somehow convinced myself that it was because I was not used to writing since there were scribes in the palace.

From that moment on, I knew everything was condemned - but did I really know? Isn't it possible that I knew nothing, since I did not even know what a "Goa'uld" was, and since I did not know that all of them were not like Mother?

They came with soldiers and weapons and the planet fell. And they killed everyone, even those who surrendered. Everyone - but me.

I was brought in front of the Great Gods and I was told I was unique and useful and therefore I would not be killed. Since they could not decide which one of them would keep me with him or her, they decided that I would spend a little time with everyone of them, successively.

I was not a Princess anymore, but I had servants and beautiful dresses. I spent my time doing nothing, like on my planet, and their palaces were ten times bigger and richer than Mother's one was.

They treated me well. So well that I often forgot what they did to my people - and to Mother.

Time passed. I walked through what is called Life as if it was a dream.

One morning I opened my eyes and I looked at my reflection in the mirror. But the person who stared back was not me. She had a cute little face, golden curls like a fairytale Princess, big blue eyes like the doll Mother gave me for my birthday and a skin so pale that it looked white. She looked 8-year-old and pure and innocent. She looked nice and trusting and happy. It was an unbearable sight. I stopped taking the pills.

I thought I would be a Queen and Mother's living image by the next morning, but nothing happened. Nothing happened. I waited a few days, feverishly, then eventually went back to the dream that was my every-day life.

Everything was quiet. I went to bed late, got up even later. I slept well and I never dreamt about Mother - almost. All the days felt the same. I rarely left my chambers, but when I did I sometimes passed by one or another Goa'uld. Most of them ignored me, but sometimes I could feel that their eyes were on me. It felt like a burn. One day I dared looking at one of them in the eyes, very briefly. It was like catching a glimpse of a forbidden world, or reading a book Mother would not let me have.

I had a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach, like the sweetest knife stab.

"They're not Gods, they're devils" was my first thought. For I never forgot his eyes, cold and burning, taunting and deadly serious at the same time. I think he smiled to me - a slight, dark smile, very different from Mother's - but I will never be sure, for even now I would not dare asking him.

Time passed again.

I still did not look like Mother. Merely like an older version of myself when I took my pills. At that time I was so foolish that I actually thought I was not normal! I was right about not being normal, but my physical appearance was more or less the only normal thing about me.

When I was little, my nurses used to tell me tales to make me sleep. Later, I asked my slaves to tell me about the Goa'uld, the wars and the battles, the Tau'ri, the Tok'ra. . . It was like a beautiful fairytale - only darker. To me it sounded nicer than lullabies, for the more battles the Goa'uld won, the more people - like me - lost everything. I was as happy when the Goa'uld lost, because, oh Mother, at last they pay!

I hated the Goa'uld's enemies. But did it mean I could not hate the Goa'uld?

One day, it went too far, even for my liking. I often overheard some of my servants complaining that there was danger everywhere, that the Tok'ra had infiltrated the palace, that life was becoming difficult. I failed to understand it, I thought they were trying to demoralize everyone. At that time, I was living in Lord Apophis' palace. I told him I thought these servants were Tok'ra. I could not be sure, but better safe than sorry. He did not try to know more about it either. He had them executed. I understood it would be the same even if the people I accused were no Tok'ra at all, but only, for example, people I could not stand. I have to say that I often took advantage of it. . .

Soon being Apophis' spy was not enough anymore. I began spying on him. First I was terribly scared of being caught, but finally it became a game - although the things I saw and heard were not what I would call funny. They are too terrible to mention, for I did not know if these things even had names - for I still do not know.

I will only say that they taught me that, indeed, the Goa'uld are no Gods, but devils.

I was sure Lord Apophis was invincible. His reaction after his Queen's death made me understand he was not. For the second time I was confronted with that nauseating thing called love. And I still did not understand it. Love was useless. Love was something that could not be controlled. Love was dangerous. Love turned Queens into slaves and loyal people into traitors. Love reminded me of what I wanted to forget, since I could not have it anymore - my childhood, my planet, my people, my Mother.

I could not like Apophis, but I could respect and admire him as long as I considered him as superior to me. And I no longer could.

I never betrayed him, though, because he never gave me as much as Mother did. It does not make sense, but it is how I saw things at that time.

"You have to be careful. I do not want the Tok'ra or some random shol'va to kill you. Or worse.", he said.

"What could be worse?", I asked.

"Stop being insolent. There could be worse, indeed. They could use you against me."

"Me? How?"

"Do not ask questions. Two Jaffa are going to follow you everywhere you go. And you will follow me when I leave the planet. Leave now."

The number of Jaffa in the palace increased. I felt sickeningly safe. It was boring. I hoped someone would die. Maybe me.

"I am no coward, for I do not fear death", I used to think, "Oh Mother, how I would love to die like you did, a cold and calm smile on the lips and even colder scorn in the eyes."

It proved to be but a lie, but a lie. I am afraid of dying. I am afraid of living to see the next day. I am afraid of thinking about my past. I am afraid of thinking about my future. And my present is even more horrifying. Contrary to Mother, I could only pretend to be brave when there was no danger.

Apophis knew the end was getting closer and closer. I knew it too but would not believe it. Ironically it happened in what I considered to be the safest place: a mothership. We - they - were supposed to give the rebellion a fatal blow. I understood it was turning sour when, after several strange events, I had to go back to my room, and when the Jaffa locked the door. And I knew there was a catastrophe when the screams began. But they were less scary than the silence that soon followed.

I called the guards, Apophis and Mother. None of them answered. I shouted in hope someone would hear me. For the first time I allowed myself to cry. I did not care about my make-up. I did not care about being proud and brave and too strong to show emotion anymore. I began shaking and ended up fainting. And then I knew no more.

I vaguely heard the door opening.

"Get up."

I did not move. It was certainly a dream.

"What are you doing on the floor? Get up!"

I opened my eyes and tried to look at the man who was talking, but felt too weak to obey.

"This ship is infested with replicators. Everyone is probably already dead. . ."

"Gods cannot die!", I said. But he did not listen to me.

". . . And we are going to crash on Delmak anyway. I am not staying here, and you are not either." He came closer and, grabbing me by the arm, forced me to get up. My head was horribly light and I would have fallen more than once if he did not still hold me by the arm. I do not know how I managed to walk to his ship through all these corridors.

I thought Apophis was the worst Goa'uld I could meet. I was wrong. This one was. . .

Of course, Lord Tanith never shouted like Apophis did, and he was quite refined, but he also had quite a way with cynicism, caustic sentences and insulting insinuations. Saying that life was not - is not - very easy around him is an euphemism. He saved me because I was "useful", but I have to go on being useful, and there is no possibility of wasting my time sleeping or trying on new dresses in my chambers. And he does not seem to care about the fact that the other Goa'uld had to treat me decently.

Why am I useful? Why am I the only one to be useful in this way? Or will I only become useful later? But when? Does Tanith have plans for me? What kind of plans?

I do not know, for he will not tell me.

Why did I have to betray Mother? Why did I not die when the city fell? Why am I always so unluckily lucky?

I do not know either. What I do know is that my life is worse than what it would be if I went to Sokar. Being mean only sometimes is more of a torture than always being mean - at least, you know what to expect.

Sometimes I think he hates me. Sometimes I wish he did.

"I do not know what to believe or not about it. You know very well that I never knew my father and that she would not tell me who he was - or what he was. Please, it is not funny!". I was trying hard not to cry.

"I find it rather amusing."

"It hurts so much when you say mean things about my Mother." I could not believe I was saying this. I could not believe I was almost crying now.

"That is why I say them, you fool. Oh, by the way, stop pretending: you did not like her, since you betrayed her. You are responsible of her death." I burst into tears.

"Why do you hate me? I have not done anything!" I was more than pathetic. He laughed.

"You are pathetic. I do not hate you. In fact I do not hate anyone, except that shol'va Teal'c."

"Because you are jealous!" What did I say? What did I just say? Oh Gods, why?. . .

He smiled slowly. I would like to be dead right now.

"Interesting theory indeed. Could you develop it further?" I could almost think he was not angry if I did not look at his eyes.

". . ."

"No? Then I will develop it for you. Let's see. . . I am jealous. . . Well. . . Is it because he was First Prime of Apophis?. . . Is it because of Shan'auc?"

Obviously he wanted me to answer something, but what? I tried to think as fast as possible to find the right answer, but it was impossible because of the way he was looking at me.

A few seconds passed, but they felt like eternities.

He came closer and I waited for a blow that never came.

"To put it politely, your brain is not really worth naquadria."

"Why did you save me, then? . . ." I did not expect any answer, so I was very surprised when. . .

"You are lucky not to be as ugly as you are stupid."

I stepped back as he came even closer. Soon my back was against the wall.

" I. . . well. . . personally I. . . would not call it. . . luck. . ." My voice was shaking. So was I. His smile widened. His eyes burned like fire. Was he going to hurt me?

"Like Good and Evil, it is but a question of point of view".

When he kissed me, I had a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach, like the sweetest knife stab.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As far as I can remember, I have always been told I was unique, by all of them, but they never spoke about the reasons - for their answers may have been as worthless as I am.

I have always liked the concept of Death being the Great Leveller. I cannot wait to become a nobody - if they ever let me.