Fic: A Strong Tea (SGA Teyla PG-13)
Title: A Strong Tea
Author: tigerlady (shetiger)
Rating: PG-13
Character: Teyla
Summary: Charin had made certain Teyla would always remember this recipe, even if it made the lines around her eyes draw into tight furrows of sorrow each time Teyla repeated the words.
Notes: References to Critical Mass. 900 words. Warning--deals with a subject matter some may find disturbing. See bottom.
Charin's things have been redistributed among her people. Teyla made sure that Jinto and Halling received the two softest blankets, the ones that felt like down against the skin and that Charin had crafted herself. The old cradle, chipped and cracked and miraculously salvaged from the destruction of Athos, went to Marta who was expecting her first any day now. The hand-thrown tea kettle with the crooked little spout had gone back to Ferin, his smile was wry as he accepted his own handiwork though his eyes were grateful.
There were other little things that had special meaning, though not as many as there should have been. Much had been lost to the Wraith. Most of what Charin had gathered was cooking supplies. Her pots and utensils and recipes had been shared among all. Even her small hut is now being used by a young family of refugees.
Charin's things are not the reason Teyla returns to the mainland. Charin is gone, and Teyla took what she needed of Charin's effects at the time. The only thing she needs of Charin is Charin herself, and that cannot be.
The Athosians are not the reason Teyla returns to the mainland. She loves them still, so very much, and they have never turned her away. There are days when she returns and it is like she has never left Athos. Mornings when she shares tea with Halling and the others, laughing and softly discussing the business at hand. But Teyla has learned to accept that a distance has grown between them, one that is not just measured by the length of the flight. She wishes it is not so, but there is no one among her people that she can ask-that she can trust-to help her through this thing.
Teyla returns to the mainland out of necessity. She considered trying on Atlantis, but even if she asks for privacy, she knows she will not get it. Even if no emergency demands her presence, her friends will forget her request and bumble into her quarters, or will become worried and seek her out, or will suddenly, absolutely, imperatively need to introduce her to some strange Earth custom that will make no sense to her.
On the mainland, among her people, no one will seek her out if she tells them she needs time alone in the forest. Perhaps she would be safer back in Atlantis, where Carson and his machines would be seconds away if something goes wrong, but here, beside the sparkling stream and under the soughing evergreens, she feels safe. Memories of her youth are closer here. Memories of her father and mother and Charin and her other loved ones, those who could always make her feel safe and warm and whole, no matter the dangers in the night.
She needs those memories now as she sprinkles Charin's special herbs in the cup of water just shy of boiling. Teyla has never been a good cook, but this tea takes little skill. Charin had made certain Teyla would always remember, even if it made the lines around her eyes draw into tight furrows of sorrow each time Teyla repeated the words.
Steam rises lazily as Teyla ticks off the minutes in her head. The numb, calculated drive that has pushed her forward to this moment is fading away with each second, fear and horror curling up like flames trying to burn away her resolve. She wishes she was not so alone, but she still doesn't think that anyone else would help her do this.
Halling would be horrified, finding it an affront to the Ancestors. John, she thinks, would be just as angry, just as determined to stop her, even if he does not have Halling's strong beliefs.
She is not certain of Rodney, but she thinks that he would look at her with wide, aching eyes--if he would look at her at all--and that would not help her one bit. Ronon confuses her as well. He would probably understand the necessity, but his passion for life surprises her at times, even though she knows how deeply he feels.
Carson would bury her with rules and procedures until the deed became impossible to do. Teyla had considered at least discussing this with Kate, but she knows that Kate is likewise bound by rules Teyla still does not fully understand.
Elizabeth, Teyla thinks, would have helped her. She would have suggested alternatives, but after Teyla made her decision clear, Elizabeth would have sat with her under the stars and shared her pain. But Teyla knows that Elizabeth would try to take the burden as her own, blaming herself for reasons only a leader understood. And Teyla cannot do that to her.
Missing Charin more than ever, Teyla lifts the cup and swallows the bitter liquid with long, grimacing gulps. She pants after she finishes, throwing the cup towards the fire. It bounces off of a stone and rolls toward the stream, coming to a stop against a small thicket.
As she waits for the cramps to start, Teyla reminds herself over and over that this is what she must do to continue the fight.
Reminds herself that this life is lost because of the Wraith.
END
Warning: Abortion
Author: tigerlady (shetiger)
Rating: PG-13
Character: Teyla
Summary: Charin had made certain Teyla would always remember this recipe, even if it made the lines around her eyes draw into tight furrows of sorrow each time Teyla repeated the words.
Notes: References to Critical Mass. 900 words. Warning--deals with a subject matter some may find disturbing. See bottom.
Charin's things have been redistributed among her people. Teyla made sure that Jinto and Halling received the two softest blankets, the ones that felt like down against the skin and that Charin had crafted herself. The old cradle, chipped and cracked and miraculously salvaged from the destruction of Athos, went to Marta who was expecting her first any day now. The hand-thrown tea kettle with the crooked little spout had gone back to Ferin, his smile was wry as he accepted his own handiwork though his eyes were grateful.
There were other little things that had special meaning, though not as many as there should have been. Much had been lost to the Wraith. Most of what Charin had gathered was cooking supplies. Her pots and utensils and recipes had been shared among all. Even her small hut is now being used by a young family of refugees.
Charin's things are not the reason Teyla returns to the mainland. Charin is gone, and Teyla took what she needed of Charin's effects at the time. The only thing she needs of Charin is Charin herself, and that cannot be.
The Athosians are not the reason Teyla returns to the mainland. She loves them still, so very much, and they have never turned her away. There are days when she returns and it is like she has never left Athos. Mornings when she shares tea with Halling and the others, laughing and softly discussing the business at hand. But Teyla has learned to accept that a distance has grown between them, one that is not just measured by the length of the flight. She wishes it is not so, but there is no one among her people that she can ask-that she can trust-to help her through this thing.
Teyla returns to the mainland out of necessity. She considered trying on Atlantis, but even if she asks for privacy, she knows she will not get it. Even if no emergency demands her presence, her friends will forget her request and bumble into her quarters, or will become worried and seek her out, or will suddenly, absolutely, imperatively need to introduce her to some strange Earth custom that will make no sense to her.
On the mainland, among her people, no one will seek her out if she tells them she needs time alone in the forest. Perhaps she would be safer back in Atlantis, where Carson and his machines would be seconds away if something goes wrong, but here, beside the sparkling stream and under the soughing evergreens, she feels safe. Memories of her youth are closer here. Memories of her father and mother and Charin and her other loved ones, those who could always make her feel safe and warm and whole, no matter the dangers in the night.
She needs those memories now as she sprinkles Charin's special herbs in the cup of water just shy of boiling. Teyla has never been a good cook, but this tea takes little skill. Charin had made certain Teyla would always remember, even if it made the lines around her eyes draw into tight furrows of sorrow each time Teyla repeated the words.
Steam rises lazily as Teyla ticks off the minutes in her head. The numb, calculated drive that has pushed her forward to this moment is fading away with each second, fear and horror curling up like flames trying to burn away her resolve. She wishes she was not so alone, but she still doesn't think that anyone else would help her do this.
Halling would be horrified, finding it an affront to the Ancestors. John, she thinks, would be just as angry, just as determined to stop her, even if he does not have Halling's strong beliefs.
She is not certain of Rodney, but she thinks that he would look at her with wide, aching eyes--if he would look at her at all--and that would not help her one bit. Ronon confuses her as well. He would probably understand the necessity, but his passion for life surprises her at times, even though she knows how deeply he feels.
Carson would bury her with rules and procedures until the deed became impossible to do. Teyla had considered at least discussing this with Kate, but she knows that Kate is likewise bound by rules Teyla still does not fully understand.
Elizabeth, Teyla thinks, would have helped her. She would have suggested alternatives, but after Teyla made her decision clear, Elizabeth would have sat with her under the stars and shared her pain. But Teyla knows that Elizabeth would try to take the burden as her own, blaming herself for reasons only a leader understood. And Teyla cannot do that to her.
Missing Charin more than ever, Teyla lifts the cup and swallows the bitter liquid with long, grimacing gulps. She pants after she finishes, throwing the cup towards the fire. It bounces off of a stone and rolls toward the stream, coming to a stop against a small thicket.
As she waits for the cramps to start, Teyla reminds herself over and over that this is what she must do to continue the fight.
Reminds herself that this life is lost because of the Wraith.
END
Warning: Abortion