It did not take Sha’re long to find out who in this Stargate Command were the ones who really ran things. As in any village on Abydos, and especially in the city itself, the head man and his advisors made commands, but those commands were carried out by others, and the ones who carried them out had much influence, as well as handling all the many tasks that a head man need not trouble himself with. A few discreet questions led her to Sergeant Siler, who led her to Sergeant Harriman, who both commanded those who dialed the Chapa’ai—no, she must call it a Stargate now—and also the procurement of materials and supply until a person called a “quartermaster” could be found. She would not discuss all things she needed with a man, but he was helpful in other ways. He gave her a room to sleep in and another room to work in, and books to help her learn to read English (Dan’yel had taught her its alphabet, but little more) and how to better speak it. When they sent her first pupils to her, she would be ready for them.
From Captain Carter she learned how to procure clothing and what the nurses in the Infirmary called “feminine hygiene products,” in the event she needed them. (She did not think she would for some time, but she was not yet sure, and it was bad luck to say anything too early.)
But once she had her room as comfortable as it could be, and clothes that kept her warm even in this cold place (though she still felt exposed in the trousers), and the materials necessary to make herself more useful to her husband’s people, it could no longer be put off.
She stood in the hall outside Teal’c’s new room for a few seconds, gathering her composure, before raising her hand to knock. There was no one to see her hesitation; now that Colonel O’Neill had gotten his way, the guards had been removed. But there was nothing to be gained from further delay, and so her pause was short. Nor did he keep her waiting once she had announced herself.
“Ha’amat Dan’yel,” he said, bowing to her as if she were a head man, or perhaps a god.
“Teal’c,” she said, accepting his bow with a nod as her father would have done. It galled her that he knew one of her great names and she did not even know if Jaffa had great names as well as little ones. “May I come in?” The human greeting was far more blunt and crude than the traditional Abydonian greeting; but the traditional Abydonian greeting called upon Ra to bless the house and the visit, and though her people kept the phrase, now emptied of meeting, Sha’re had decided that she would not use it here, in the home of those who had killed him.
Teal’c stepped back and inclined his head as she passed into his quarters. His silence fit what little she had seen of him; she did not know whether it was a trait of Jaffa or of him in particular, but at least it meant their meeting would likely be short. This time.
His room was even barer than hers, she noted as he closed the door behind her. It was the first time she had been alone in a room with a man she was not related to, except her meeting with General Hammond, in which several of his men had been within sight in the briefing room. There was nothing to give her an indication of how best to appeal to him. Straightforward simplicity it would be, then. “Your language and mine are not the same, though they are similar,” she said, slipping into her native tongue with relief. “Both were used commonly in Apophis’ dungeon.” She could offer him help with his English, and learning to read and write, in exchange for what she wanted, but even in a simple negotiation such as this too much interest would hinder the bargaining.
“My language is that used by the false gods and their closest slaves such as the Jaffa,” Teal’c said. “Yours is a variation of the most common language among the lower slaves and vassals.”
“I would learn your language,” Sha’re said. “And I would learn more about the false gods, the better to advise General Hammond.” It was carefully phrased, not a petition as from an inferior or a demand from a superior, but a statement of fact. Neither too eager nor too disinterested. She could insinuate herself into a position as advisor, she believed (and from there be one step closer to a place on a gate team), but only if she proved herself knowledgeable and wise. She also wished to learn the arts of battle, but did not quite trust Teal’c enough to study under him. Her memories of Apophis’ dungeon—and the battle with Ra’s Jaffa a year before it—were too fresh in her mind.
“I will teach you whatever I can whenever I am not offworld with SG-1,” Teal’c replied. There was something going on behind his eyes, she could tell, but he held himself still and smooth, and she did not know him well enough to guess.
“Then you may come to my room of study tomorrow morning at the ninth hour,” she said, turning to leave. Dan’yel would not object to the impropriety of her presence in another man’s room, and the Tau’ri would not care, but this was a matter she chose to ignore her husband-and-lord’s counsel on.
“Ha’amat Dan’yel,” Teal’c said as her hand reached for the doorknob.
Sha’re turned back silently, tilting her head and studying him. He looked … more intense, than he had when she entered, fiercer, as if he had come to a decision.
Teal’c paced forward two steps, until he towered over her, then knelt gracefully at her feet. “Ha’amat Dan’yel Siarat …”
“Kasuf,” she said, staring down at the back of his neck, curious enough to give him her father’s name.
“Siarat Kasuf, it was I who chose your husband and brother, both on Abydos and in Apophis’s palace.”
Sha’re’s vision went red. She could hear her blood pounding in her ears, but she was the daughter of Kasuf and she had been raised to be a head-man’s daughter and possible gift to a god and she would not allow her rage to overcome her judgment. “And?” she said harshly, drawing on every lesson in composure and self-control that had been drilled into her as a child.
“Vengeance is rightfully yours, Ha’amat Dan’yel Siarat Kasuf.” Teal’c bowed his head further, not quite the obeisance due to a god but not much less than it. “I have no weapon here, but can retrieve one from the weapons-store if you wish it.”
Sha’re spun around, fists clenching and unclenching, to face the door. She could not stand to look at him now, not without trying to kill him with her bare hands. It took her some few minutes to control her breathing sufficient to reply. “You think me as foolish and hot blooded as a man,” she said at last.
“I do not understand,” Teal’c said. She heard cloth rustling; he must be standing.
“A man can afford to throw away a tool because it angers him,” Sha’re replied without turning around. “A woman must be more practical. We cannot afford grand, foolish gestures.” She pivoted until she was at right angles to both her enemy and the door. “I will see my husband and brother free,” she said, looking him straight in the eye. “And then I will see the false gods destroyed. But I will need your knowledge of their habits and their tongue and their weaknesses. And I will need your courage and skill in battle. You will not die for me, Teal’c,” she said, lifting her chin high. “You will live. And you will teach, and you will fight. And when the last Goa’uld is dead, then you may ask again. But you will not offer this again, to myself or anyone else you have wronged, until that day has come. Do you understand me?”
Teal’c bowed low again, with more true respect in his face than before. “I will do as you say.”
“Good,” Sha’re said. “Then I will see you in the ninth hour tomorrow morning. For my lesson.”
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Determination
by Beatrice OtterKapitel Bemerkung:
I am not sure how many vignettes there will eventually be, so I am making each vignette relatively self-contained so that if it happens to be the last one there won't be any loose plot threads dangling. The story is marked "complete" to let people know not to get their hopes up about anything else coming, because if there is anything else coming in this AU it's not going to be for some time.Site Navigation
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