Title: Soaked In The Chill Of A Foreign Sea
Author:
cinaedsg1sga_ficathon recipient:
saeva Pairing: Daniel/Teyla
Rating: PG
Warning: Spoilers for SG-1's "Avalon" and SGA's "The Intruder"
Prompt: AU: Daniel makes it to Atlantis instead of getting caught up with Vala and the Ori in S2 SGA/S9 SG-1. The prompt: He and Teyla bond over trying to understand each other's cultures.
the dreams begin in unheralded intervals
ankles soaked in the chill of a foreign sea
the biting of both cold and salt
...
the colours of a foreign sky
will paint you in blurred contours
alien and indistinguishable
.distancing us both with truth
-"Lough Beg" by Nin Harris
At first, Daniel didn't even notice Teyla Emmagan. Well, that wasn't exactly true; he noticed her, he noticed everything really, with an attention to detail that was wearying at times. It was simply that over the years he had come to prioritize what he saw, and amidst all the sights and sounds of Atlantis on the heels of yet another near-death experience on the Daedalus, his initial meeting of Teyla Emmagan had been shuffled aside to ponder at a later date.
It was only later, after some of the awe and all-encompassing pleasure of being on Atlantis had ebbed to more-manageable levels, that he took out the memory and examined the woman he'd read about in Elizabeth and Sheppard's reports.
Teyla reminded him of Sam at first, though in many ways she did not. Still, she was a strong, capable woman within a predominately male group, working on an otherwise all-male team. He found himself wondering what Sam and Teyla would make of each other, should their paths ever cross (which he was almost certain they would, because someday Sam would visit Atlantis, having given into the impulse to finally smack McKay across the head). Teyla had an aloofness that Sam did not, however, along with something familiar that tugged at Daniel, something it took him a while to define.
At last he figured out what was so familiar about her. It was the way she held herself, calm and steady, as though little could unsettle her, the way her eyes were bright and knowing in her face, as though she had seen things that would make most people falter and succumb to grief. It was the same hard-earned knowledge that he saw in his own gaze every time he looked in a mirror. It was that knowing look which drew him to her like a moth to a flame, because Daniel had always lived for the pursuit of knowledge (after all, he thought wryly, ipsa scientia potestas est, a concept that kept him alive time and time again).
Still, for the moment Daniel ignored the tug. He was busy settling in, and more importantly she was busy looking for her lost teammate, a man by the name of Ford. Daniel knew all too well what she would think of a stranger distracting her when she was trying to rescue one of her people, and so he smiled politely at her during meetings and waited for a more opportune time. He could be a patient man when he wanted to be, no matter how much Jack would disagree.
*
The low, ever-present hum of Atlantis was interrupted by a quiet knock on his door. "Come in," he said, not bothering to rise from the floor. He did open his eyes, though, curious to see who would be coming to see him, and smoothed out his expression into one of bland civility. It wouldn't be Elizabeth or one of the scientists, he knew. If they needed a translation, they would have simply called him on his headset.
When the door slid open, Teyla stepped inside, a polite smile on her face and a certain wariness in her eyes. He wondered at the wariness for a moment, but then again, a lifetime in the Pegasus galaxy had most likely taught her to be leery of strangers, or at least strangers she felt she was imposing upon. "If this is a bad time, Doctor--" she began and then stopped as Daniel shook his head.
"I was just going to meditate," he informed her.
At that, the wariness eased and her smile became genuine. Belatedly, he remembered Elizabeth describing the Athosian people, with their belief in the Ancients as a higher power and their use of meditation as a form of prayer and pathway to ascension. He wondered if one of the anthropologists had studied the parallels between the Athosian belief system and various Earth enlightenment-oriented religions, such as Buddhism. "I did not realize you meditated, Doctor Jackson."
"Please, call me Daniel," he said, smiling back and pushing that thought to the back of his mind for the time being. "You can join me, if you'd like."
Teyla hesitated for just a moment, as though inwardly debating his sincerity and suspecting that he'd made the offer only out of politeness. Then she sat down in one smooth, graceful movement, and said, "I would like that." She smiled at him for another moment, the look soft and warm, and then closed her eyes, her face taking on a serene expression that reminded Daniel of Teal'c during kelnorim.
He studied her, the serene expression and relaxed slope of her shoulders, and wondered why she'd come to visit in the first place. It couldn't have been anything important, though, or else she wouldn't have allowed herself to be sidetracked by the invitation to meditate together. After a moment, he shut his eyes as well and put such thoughts away. If it was important, she would probably ask him after meditating.
Sure enough, when he opened his eyes a short time later and rose to his feet, she opened her eyes as well and said, "Rodney tells me that you ascended and lived with the Ancestors." The wariness was back in her eyes, but there was also a gleam he couldn't quite define, and her tone was mild, as though she was commenting about the weather. When he nodded, she added, "I was hoping that perhaps you could tell me about the Ancestors. We -- that is, to say my people and I -- do not know much about them, nothing about their history or their culture other than that they are the gate-builders and once fought against the Wraith. Anything you could tell me would be welcome."
He just looked at her for a moment, kept his expression carefully polite. Tell her about the Ancients? She couldn't possibly want the truth, that the Ancients were a self-absorbed, cowardly race that had Ascended not for enlightenment, but to flee their own mistakes, that precious few of the Ancients were actually worthy of respect. Her gaze, though, was steady and unflinching, and at last, he asked, "Did Rodney tell you that I've forgotten almost everything that happened while I was ascended?"
"He mentioned that, yes," Teyla said. A look of amusement flickered across her face, lightning quick, and then was gone, her expression settling back into an attentive, half-hopeful look. Daniel wondered how exactly Rodney had phrased the experience with amnesia. "However, even a story or two, anything you might recall, would be greatly appreciated."
It wasn't that Daniel was unused to people asking about his time among the Ancients; it'd practically been considered a rite of passage for a new member of the SGC to try and ask him about it. What he really wasn't used to was being asked, not for curiosity's sake, but for knowledge's sake. It was a refreshing change. At last, he nodded, watched her face light up like a sunrise. "There's an Ancient called Oma Desala. Has anyone ever mentioned her to you?"
Teyla shook her head. He almost felt her interest, as though her intent gaze could tangibly reach out and touch him, urge him onward. Her entire body was leaning a little towards him, and the tug he'd felt in the past few weeks intensified, until it was all he could do not to lean forward and lessen the distance between them even more. Instead, he sat back down, cleared his throat, and began.
"I first met Oma Desala on a planet called Kheb. She was there, guiding people on their path to ascension...."
*
Teyla noticed Daniel Jackson almost immediately. Most of the newcomers to the city of the Ancestors wore looks of varying awe and excitement, but it was Daniel's expression that drew her in and sparked her curiosity. It was a look of awe and excitement, like the others, but there was a touch of relief and joy in his eyes as well, as though he half-expected Atlantis to vanish out from under him.
So this was Daniel Jackson, the man many of the scientists spoke of in hushed whispers. Sometimes Teyla heard them invoking his name as a half-prayer but more often his name was a curse on the linguists' lips as they attempted to decipher the Ancestors' database. This was the man who had died time and time again, who had saved the world at least a dozen times, who had ascended and lived among the Ancestors for a year. It was all she could do not to draw him aside in that first hour and ask him question after question until her curiosity was sated.
Instead, she waited. He needed time to adjust to Atlantis, after all (though perhaps less time than most). She would give him a few weeks to settle into the rhythm of the city, and then approach him. She focused on finding Aiden, watched the days go by with no word or sight of her friend, prayed that he would return to them safe and sound.
*
Teyla closed her eyes and breathed in, felt the fire's warmth press against her skin like a caress. When she opened her eyes, Daniel met her gaze and smiled, the corners of his eyes creasing. She raised an eyebrow, and his smile widened as he said, sincerity softening the words, "Thank you for inviting me."
"It was my pleasure," Teyla said. Halling had asked her to come to the mainland for the celebration of Manina giving birth, and somehow she had found herself inviting Daniel along. His obvious excitement at being witness to one of her people's traditions had eased some of her bewilderment. Watching him now, with the firelight reflected in his glasses, she thought she understood why the invitation had leaped so easily from her lips. "You know that you are always welcome among the Athosians, Daniel. You have told us much about the Ancestors we did not know."
Daniel's look was soft in response, and she felt a warmth in the pit of her stomach that had nothing to do with the fire. He stayed silent though, just nodded.
She reached out, touched his hand, and when he looked startled, smiled and leaned in to press a light kiss to his cheek. "You are always welcome," she repeated, and met his eyes squarely and watched the comprehension dawn. When a brilliant smile lit his gaze, eased years off of his face, Teyla let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, and added, "Do you dance?"
"Do I--" he began, eyebrows creasing with confusion, and then he glanced over at the dancers twirling and cavorting around the fire and laughed, a quiet, amused sound. "No."
Teyla laughed as well, and tugged him to his feet. Pressing another kiss to his cheek, she murmured in his ear, "Has anyone ever mentioned the Athosian tradition of courtship to you?" As he shook his head, she added, even lower, "I will be happy to explain the details of that particular tradition," and drew him, laughing once more, into the dance.
Translation
Ipsa scientia potestas est - (Latin) Knowledge itself is power.