Fic: Predator and Prey
Teyla pulled out the knife and thrust it into the Wraith's side, hoping that it would be enough, but as he twisted around and sent her stumbling onto the throne, she realised with a dawning sense of horror that it was not enough, that far from being mortal, the blow was little more than a scratch. He tore the knife from his side, lifted his sword and with a strength that was inhuman, pulled her from the throne and onto the ground. An arm across her shoulders, he put the blade to her neck.
She wondered whether the sight of her blood would confirm what he guessed, the depth of the treachery that lay below the mask of flesh that she wore. It always came down to treachery, she thought. Perhaps that explained the humans' failure to solve the Wraith problem, the urge that was so uncharacteristic of them, the need to use lies and trickery. She thought with regret of her family...
Todd's first shot caught the Wraith and stunned him. Teyla scrambled away. The second shot threw him to collapse on the ground, coat flapping around him like the leathery wings of a dying bat. Todd, sparing barely a glance for her, strode toward the creature and twisted his neck until the bones snapped audibly aside. Then and only then, immediate task completed, did he turn to her.
“He will not be bothering you any further.”
“Thank you.”
There was a long pause. “I must request another commander,” she added.
Todd's face twisted into something that might have been a smile. “Yes,” he said. “I will have this one removed.”
Then her legs gave way and she swayed, alarming herself. “I...“
He reached towards her, faster than human, clawed hands digging at her shoulders as he half-steadied, half-caught her. As the dizziness receded, she looked up at his face and the pattern of veins and scars - or was it a tattoo? - that ran around his left eye, that cat-like, evilly slitted iris and yellow pupil that made her think devil. Even now it shocked her to think of the new face that she wore, that she too wore the mask of the Wraith.
“Todd,” she said.
“Yes, my Queen?” he said, mocking her a little, still too close - those hands, reassuring, yet still too close to her heart.
“I have - we, on Atlantis - we have - failed to solve the problem that you pose. Michael blamed it on us. For a long time I thought he referred wholly to the perception of treachery.”
He nodded. “Now you see us as we are. You see what you have wrought.”
“Yes,” she said. “It is less than I believed. I thought that our actions were unconscionable. But...”
“But we, the Wraith, are so much worse.”
She could say nothing.
His smile widened. “We are strategists; we have no law, merely alliances of convenience. We plot. We kill for advancement and for advantage.”
A shiver ran down her spine.
“My Queen,” he said, almost laughing, “I believe you are disappointed in us! We are no more animals than you are. We are more than the insect genes found in our DNA. Do you not care for your people? Do I not act for the good of mine?”
Right hand still on her shoulder, he lifted his left hand to her face, sharp nails grazing her skin in what was not quite a caress. “You are an idealist. You believe that what was done to Michael was wrong. I do not. I would have done the same. And Teyla... ” his sharp teeth bared. “Do you believe that, as an eater of grass and fruit, I would be less of a danger to you?”
She shook with fear, with an edge of unnamed excitement.
“You and I,” he murmured. “We share DNA. And, I think, something more. Tell me that you did not enjoy sacrificing those darts. Tell me you do not enjoy the power. You have fallen into your role as though you were born to it... my Queen.”
“Todd,” she said quietly. “I believe I understand.”
“I believed that you would.”
“All the way through my life, I have known that the Wraith were evil shadows. Unreal, ghostly creatures. Then I believed that they were alien, too alien to understand. And now... I am confused; not because you are too alien, but because you seem too human.”
“An insult?” he wondered aloud. “Then allow me to return the favour. I am confused; not because you are too alien, but because you are Wraith...”
She reached up and took his hand.
“Are you not afraid?”
“I am not.”
“Then you are wise...”
They looked at each other, human and Wraith, predator and prey, hunter and hunted, alpha male and Queen, yellow-eyed snaggle-tooth nightmares standing over the slowly stiffening corpse of a third.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
“No, my Queen,” he said. “Thank you.”