Her eyes wide, she looked at the sympathetic face of Red Fur.

He had blue eyes. They were mostly hidden under thick blond eyebrows, but they were still a very pretty blue.

She slid off the end of the knife and collapsed on the floor, taking shallow, ragged breaths.

Red Fur wiped the blade of the knife on his pant leg. The leather soaked up the blood, but he didn’t seem to care. He slid the knife into his belt, his blue hands splattered with flecks of her blood.

"When on surface, eagles come, bring you home. You come back, seven days, tell us everything. You get not-poison." He mumbled something in his own language. "Poison make you sick in seven days. You die in ten. You understand?"

She nodded, feeling the wave of hysteria that had been held back come to the front. She looked up into the face of Red Fur. "What about…what about Frodo?"

Red Fur looked into her eyes, sympathy dominating his features. "He stay home. We not want Frodo. Beshia want you."

Merry frowned; she had no idea what Beshia was, but she was sure she didn’t want to. "How do the eagles find us?"

Red Fur pointed up. "Eagles fly over cave many days. Men come. You found soon." He sighed, a rumble that echoed in the small room. "Sorry."

*

Merry was dragged through the dark corridor. She thought they were walking back to her cell, but her mind was hazy with blood loss. She didn’t even notice Red Fur walking beside her.

It took far less time to get back to the cell when she wasn’t fighting the guards every step of the way. They paused just long enough for the cell door to open- she heard the heavy creak of the hinges- and the guards to get John. He must have been unconscious; she could hear his feet dragging.

They kept walking along the same corridor, but only a short way. They paused, and she heard more of the musical language; she could hear at least three distinct voices, one of them Red Fur’s. Another set of creaking hinges, and they were led into a dimly lit guardhouse.

It was like something out of a medieval castle. There were two rough tables with benches, heavy manacles dangling on one wall, and a few sets of blankets and bedding rolled up in one corner. The door behind her was heavy wood; the one ahead was plated with heavy black metal. The whole room looked carved out of the rock; two lamps, high overhead, cast very little light over the room, and flickered from the draft she could feel around her ankles.

She glanced behind her and saw John, semi-conscious, between two of the largest men she had ever seen. Red Fur put his hand on her back, and she nearly fell; would have, if the metal door hadn’t been there. She put a hand on it and steadied herself, surprised at how cold the metal was. Another guard shoved her to one side and opened the door. A blast of cold air blew through, sweeping right through the thin clothing they had been given.

The two guards dragged John into the snow and dropped him before turning back inside. Red Fur pulled her outside as well, whispering hurriedly to one of the guards before turning to her.

"Seven days, Sam. You die ten."

And then he was gone, and the metal door was closed.

*

Merry didn’t know how long she stood in the snow, staring at the inky black metal that was the door to the underground world of Red Fur and his men. Hearing John groan, she rushed to his side, holding her bleeding side.

"John? Are you alright?"

He mumbled something incoherent and swatted her hand away. She could see specks of blood on the snow from the motion.

"John, we need to get to the stargate. They let us go. John? Can you hear me?"

He was trying to sit up; that much she could tell. He mumbled something again. She leaned closer so that she could hear him.

"Shu’ up, ‘Kay."

She put her hands on her hips, wincing as it pulled her side. Dropping to the snow in front of him, she put her hands on either side of his face and pulled it up.

"John, its me. Merry."

He looked up at her with bloodshot eyes, squinting at the terrible whiteness of the outside world. "Merry?"

She smiled, relieved that he could at least hear her. "John, we have to get to the stargate. Can you get up?"

He nodded, wincing. "Help."

She put an arm under his shoulder, carefully avoiding his ribs. He still nearly screamed when he was on his feet, and she whimpered as he fell into her side.

Ignoring all pain, they began to walk into the snow-covered world, looking for the stargate.

*

It felt like hours had passed.

The light from the snow and the sun was actually making her sick; she had been so used to the darkness that any light would have hurt. The purity of the snow and the unending brilliance of the sun combined to make an unbearable landscape. She had tried to walk with her eyes closed, but holding John upright required that she guide their steps.

She chanced a look back, once. Their footprints were being erased by the never-ending wind, a wind that blew through their clothing as if it weren’t even there and caused the snow to swirl in mini tornadoes, reshaping the landscape with every gust. She didn’t even know if they were going in the right direction.

She heard the noise before he did. At least, she reacted before he did. It sounded like a jumper, but she had long since lost the hope of a rescue; if Atlantis knew where they were, they would have mounted a rescue attempt days before, if not hours after their capture.

She shrieked when, out of the swirling snow clouds, the side of the jumper appeared. If it hadn’t been so cold, she would have cried.

*

She must have fallen asleep, because she didn’t remember the jumper trip back to Atlantis at all. She woke on a gurney, just outside of the jumper bay. She saw Carter and McKay alongside another gurney ahead of her, along with several nurses and medics. Moving her head slightly, she could make out the vague forms of Ronon and Teyla, walking quickly behind the nurses at her head.

Her eyes rolled back in her head and she saw darkness again, but only for a short time. She woke again just as a light was being shone in her eyes, and she nearly shrieked from the pain. She tried to slap the light away, but something was holding her down. And then something- it felt like a knife- was poked into her side, and she screamed in pain, lost.

It was never-ending. There were colors, swirling together; they would have been soothing, normally, but bright, ghastly colors were mixed in, and they made the room dance. There was the sound of someone screaming in agony, but it was so far distant that she could easily ignore it.

The knife was quickly removed, and she could see that it hadn’t really been a knife, but a finger; it had only touched the surface. She sucked in great sobbing breaths; at least the noise was gone. She could make out the too-quick movements of doctors and nurses, but the world slid into darkness again.

*

Merry didn’t know how long she had been unconscious, but when she finally woke, it was with the feeling of having been asleep for too long. Her eyes felt dry, and she reached up with one hand to rub them, only to discover an IV attached to her wrist. Her other arm was bound tightly to her body; her entire abdomen was covered in bandages. She wore scrub bottoms, but her upper body was so covered in white bandages that it made a top unnecessary.

The lights, at least, were dimmer than they had been. She wasn’t sure if that was because she had adjusted to the idea of there being light or if they had been dimmed purposely.

She felt…fuzzy. It was the only word that came to mind that didn’t feel wrong, and yet it was totally ridiculous. She wasn’t, and had never been, fuzzy in her life. Still, with the floating, semi-happy feelings and blurring of every edge in sight, it fit.

There was a nurse hovering over one of the other beds. She really didn’t want to draw attention to herself, but she had no idea what was going on and wanted to know before she fell asleep. She could feel the exhaustion already.

When she tried to call for the nurse, all that came out was a near-silent croak. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Nurse?"

At least that time it was a word, not an unintelligible sound. The woman leaning over the other bed squeaked and spun around, a clipboard in her hands. Merry waved her hand, and the nurse gave her a tight smile. She held up a hand, motioned to Merry to wait, and finished writing on the board. She slid it onto the end of the bed and moved over to her; there was a large empty space between the two beds. She could only assume that the other person was John.

The nurse was about her age, with short, curly dark hair and a large smile. She even had freckles. "How can I help, Doctor Steel?"

Merry nearly snorted, and her voice was a hoarse whisper. "You can call me Merry, for one. I think I might get sick of you calling me Doctor Steel in a hurry. And you can tell me how long I’ve been here." As the nurse’s smile faded slightly, she remembered her manners. "Please."

The nurse fixed the smile in place; Merry wondered, irrationally, if she could learn to look that sincerely pleasant without hurting herself in the process. "Merry, then. You’ve been on Atlantis for two days. You were brought from P4R-318 in a jumper."

Merry frowned. "Okay. How long were we there?"

The nurse looked a bit nervous. "I don’t think I should be the one you talk to. Let me get Doctor Keller." She reached up and tapped her headset. "Doctor Keller? Doctor Steel is awake." She paused as the doctor answered. Smiling, she began to back away. "Doctor Keller will be here in just a moment to talk to you."

She moved back quickly to John’s bed, where she picked up the clipboard with a nervous look in Merry’s direction.

Merry sighed as Keller made her way across the infirmary. Keller was nice enough, but she was no Carson Beckett. Merry had had few opportunities to visit the infirmary while on Atlantis, but the change had still been noticeable.

The doctor’s face changed subtly when she saw Merry sitting upright on her bed, an impatient look on her face. "Doctor Steel? How do you feel?"

Merry nearly snorted. "I’d be better if people would call me Merry. And other than a hole in my side, I feel fine. Mostly."

Keller nodded. "You were brought in with a stab wound to the lower right side of your abdomen. According to the surgeon who worked on you, there was an arrowhead lodged in the wound, with signs of a mild infection and frostbite along the edges of the opening. There was also the beginning of frostbite on your extremities. You’ve been asleep now for two days."

Merry nodded. "Okay, well, I pretty much knew that. How long…how long were we on that planet?"

Keller glanced quickly at the other bed. "You were held for twelve days. According to what you told us when we found you, you were released on the thirteenth, and were wandering on the top of a glacier by one of the search and rescue teams."

Merry sighed. Thirteen days. It had felt like so much longer. "How’s…how’s John?"

This time, the look on Keller’s face was quickly masked. "I’m really not at liberty to discuss that."

Merry wanted to scream in frustration. "We were locked in a cell together and tortured for days. Can you just tell me that he’ll be all right?"

Keller didn’t meet her eyes. "I can’t do that."