Fic: With Fire and Sword (3/8)
Part 2
Elizabeth was sleeping, but not very well, when first a knock roused her. She made some noise that might have been a request that the person at the door kindly go away, but the next thing she knew, Kate was shaking her shoulder and telling her she had to get up. The Prometheus had returned.
Groggy, she let Kate help her into her robe before they entered the antechamber. There was a small crowd of men gathered, each looking grim and exhausted. Somewhere in the back of her mind Elizabeth wondered how they were to defend the island if they were all half-asleep, but she put such thoughts away for now. The room was very dark, lit only by a few candles carried by some of her supplicants. Outside, rain was pounding down, and Elizabeth hoped the weather would not be a further impediment to their efforts.
Daniel and Jack were there, as were Marcus, Pendergast, and Captain Ronson, but she was a little surprised to see John with them. When their eyes met, she remembered the last time they had been alone in this room, and she held her robe closed close to her throat.
The gesture seemed to remind the other men of the hour. "My lady, forgive us this intrusion," Jack said. "But as you can see, Captain Ronson has returned, and I fear his news could not wait until morning."
Elizabeth turned her eyes to the captain. "Then the prince's word was true," she said softly.
Ronson nodded, though he would not meet her gaze. "We have no more than a day, and then only if we are lucky. The Wraith already make for Atlantis."
The room froze for a moment. Elizabeth had been hoping for at least two more days to prepare, and despair closed her throat. How were they to finish their plans and get everyone from the city in a single day?
Jack shook himself from shock first. "How are they are so close already?"
"It's possible they accelerated their plans after the prince escaped," John observed.
Elizabeth let her gaze flit from one face to another before asking her next question. "And how many ships are coming to take my city?"
The captain straightened, and this time he met her eyes. "Fifteen."
At that she swore under her breath, to the shock of several of the men in the room. But this was no time for niceties. "We have not half that number," she said, then looked at Pendergast. "What say you?"
He hesitated, exchanging a glance with Ronson. "I will have more to say in the morning, your Majesty, but I believe we must still stick with our strengths."
Elizabeth nodded. "Very well." She waited for a moment, trying to compose her thoughts before continuing. "In the morning the island must be evacuated," she said. "It must be done in an orderly fashion, but as swiftly as possible. Jack, can you spare any of your men for that endeavor?"
"Of course," he said. "Master McKay's fortifications should be complete by tomorrow evening, anyway."
"Then that is one thing I will not have to worry about."
Daniel took a step forward then. "This is the last time I shall mention this. I believe you would put a great number of people at ease if you departed for the mainland."
"I am sure I would," Elizabeth replied, though she trembled inside. "But my decision stands." John looked very much like he wanted to say something, but he held his tongue. "What time is it?" she asked of the room.
"Just after midnight," Jack said. "We should probably all try to get some sleep."
"Yes," she agreed. "We may not have that many hours left before the Wraith are on our doorstep, but it would not do to deprive ourselves of rest in the interim."
The two sea captains took their leave, but the others remained. Elizabeth looked about the room for a moment. "What is it?"
"Now that Prince Ronon's word has been confirmed, it is time to send word of this to our allies," Daniel said. "We can help you draft letters, if you wish."
Daniel, Jack, and John each had connections in the courts of other countries, some going back before she was born. Of the monarchs on the continent now, she had only met two face to face, and one of those meetings was still not public knowledge. She nodded very slightly. "Yes, thank you," she replied. "But I will write to Radek myself."
No one objected to that, not even John. "We should have such letters ready to depart at sunrise," he pointed out.
"You will be writing to Prince Cameron, will you not?" Elizabeth asked him. When John nodded, she turned to Kate. "We might as well do this here and now." Truthfully she doubted she would be able to go back to sleep now in any case.
Kate took the candle Marcus carried and began lighting more of the tapers around the room. As it slowly grew brighter around them, Elizabeth went to the box upon her table and drew out parchment, quills, and ink.
Before long, the room was silent save the sounds of pens scratching against paper. Within the hour, Elizabeth sealed letters to their allies and watched as John pressed his own crest to the letter for his cousin. When they looked at each other, she knew that he felt what she felt, that no letter was sufficient for what they were about to face.
*~*~*~*
A restless night had not helped Teyla's nerves, and when she awoke the news was all through Atlantis that the Wraith ships had been sighted and would be at the doorstep by nightfall. The maid who came to help her dress looked scared half out of her wits already. Teyla dismissed the poor girl, knowing the queen would release any of the servants who wished to leave. Elizabeth would not force her own people into danger if it could be avoided.
Teyla expected to spend the day helping with preparations, but she was somewhat surprised when she was summoned to the harbor entrance early in the morning, along with the queen and most of her inner circle. Pendergast was there with the assembled captains - Emerson, Ronson, Ellis and Marks - all of them looking nervous. She would have thought they would be too busy for further meetings with the sovereign at this point.
Pendergast seemed to brace himself. "My lady, we have been discussing our strategy and with your permission, we have a new plan we wish to implement." He drew a deep breath. "I recommend that we send the four ships represented here around the far side of the island prior to the battle, to lie in wait."
Teyla frowned, as did Jack. "You mean them not to engage?" the commander of the army asked, surprised. "These are the four newest and fastest ships in Atalan's fleet, and not two days ago you were expounding on how important they would be to defending the island!"
It was Captain Ronson who spoke. "My lord, we will only move out of the sight line of the harbor entrance. Once the Wraith have entered the shallow waters, we will sail 'round the bulk of the island and come in from behind, cutting off their escape."
There was a long pause as his words sank in. Teyla glanced at the harbor. With a little effort she could envision the plan. The Wraith ships would be boxed in, assuming that all the Wraith ships actually entered the harbor. She chose not to voice that thought aloud.
"You intend to use the narrow channel to the harbor to trap them, so they cannot retreat," John put in.
"Yes, my lord," Emerson nodded. "They will likely assume we will place every ship at our disposal in the path between the harbor and the palace, as we originally intended to do. But by holding back some part of our fleet, we can prevent them from escaping with any significant force intact, and possibly prevent any escape at all."
It was an extremely daring plan. Also an extremely risky one. Teyla could already think of a dozen things that could go wrong, and leave Atlantis with a good portion of its navy unable to act while an enormous force bore down upon the island.
The queen had a more salient question. "Can the ships maneuver fast enough all the way around the island?"
"My lady, our ships are far faster and more maneuverable than any of the stolen vessels the Wraith employ," Ellis replied. Teyla had interacted with the man a handful of times and had not developed a favorable impression of him. The tone of his reply to the queen suggested the captain had a general disdain for women, even his own sovereign.
Pendergast frowned at Ellis before turning to Elizabeth. "It is an ambitious strategy, Majesty. I believe it is a sound one, though there are a few too many unknowns for my taste. The Wraith may not commit all their ships to invading the harbor."
"In which case, they could present a threat to the palace or the city from the other side, so the ability of our newest ships to engage them could prove vital," Jack said, his face grim.
"Precisely," Pendergast nodded. "But one thing I am certain of, my lady. The Wraith will not have seen the like of this. And surprise in wartime is always a tactical advantage."
Elizabeth stared out at the water for a moment before looking to Jack. He was frowning but he rubbed his face restlessly. "Lionel is correct. I am not happy about reducing the forces between us and the Wraith raiding parties. It will add stress to the defenders, who will already be too few for my liking. But we have McKay's traps, and the gunpowder." Standing beside Jack, Daniel nodded absently, his eyes on the line of people already exiting Atlantis for the mainland.
The queen's gaze skipped to John, who shrugged. "I have no skill at sea battles, my lady, but given that we don't know what precisely they will do, locking ourselves into a response beforehand seems less preferable to me."
Elizabeth digested that, and then finally looked at Teyla. She weighed her words for a long moment, knowing that her opinion would be taken with utmost seriousness by the queen. "I would rather fight to the last man at the gates of Atlantis and see the bulk of the Wraith fleet destroyed than allow them to escape and regroup for another assault, Majesty." It was true her own fears for Athos played into this advice, but all the long years of her life, Teyla's people had been fending off the Wraith again and again. She wanted done with it, and in the midst of this terrible hour, she at long last saw a way. "They have concentrated their resources, and they are delivering themselves to us. We should make what we can of that opportunity, for we may never get another."
Emerson and Ronson both nodded in agreement. Elizabeth considered for a moment, her fingers tightening in a way Teyla recognized as a sign of tension. Then the queen expelled a sharp breath. "Do it."
The group dispersed, Elizabeth, Daniel and Captain Lorne returning to the palace while Teyla went with Jack and John to look at the final efforts of Master McKay and the palace defenses. Underneath her breath she muttered a prayer to the ancestors that their great gamble would not end badly for everyone.
*~*~*~*
The official call went out in the morning for the island to be evacuated by sundown. Two days had allowed for quite a few who had the means to depart already, but nature was working against them. Passage across the isthmus was difficult and the wagons that had been enlisted to carry the old and sick kept getting stuck in mud. Behind the wagons was a procession of people, many carrying bundles of valuables. The livestock were left behind, though, to speed the process. The shuffling line extended across to the mainland by early morning, and the soldiers watched carefully to prevent a stampede that would be potentially catastrophic on the narrow passage.
Despite the grim visual of Atlantis emptying, Marcus was heartened by the number of men and even some women who volunteered to stay and fight. He knew it was not solely out of patriotism. The town enclosed by the protective wall of the palace was home to many, and hatred of the Wraith was a more profound motivator than love of queen or country. Still, every hand would be of use.
The rest of the guard were helping wherever they were needed. Only Marcus and Stackhouse had remained with the queen; even young Aiden Ford had been removed from guarding Lord John for the duration, which seemed to relieve the nobleman a bit. The pace of the preparations went from hurried to frantic as the news of the Prometheus' report filtered through the court. McKay had the more skilled technicians hurriedly compounding the gunpowder, while others forged arrowheads and blades, sacrificing artistry for speed and sharpness, and the rest dug fortifications or lugged materials to and fro.
Their numbers were too few no matter how many new inventions McKay could conjure, or holes could be dug in the earth. Lord Jonathan insisted that they still had the advantage of an entrenched position and the archers, not to mention the gunpowder, but knowing just how many ships were coming was unsettling.
Knowing the Wraith had that many ships at their disposal was unsettling. As if defending the palace was not difficult enough, Marcus understood that they also must ensure the Wraith fleet did not withdraw intact. Otherwise the scum could simply retreat, gather themselves and strike again at will. Atlantis would be in a permanent state of siege if that happened.
His mind seemed to be running endlessly over scenarios of the battle. He'd finally fallen into an exhausted sleep well after the queen finished her midnight meeting, but he kept reviewing the passages of the palace, the most defensible positions within and the likeliest escape routes. Marcus wished with all his heart that Elizabeth had left the island. He understood her reasons and even admired the unsurprisingly loyalty to her friend, but he was charged now to guard not only Elizabeth and Kate but also two pregnant women and the midwife, with only one other pair of hands.
He followed silently as the queen and Kate went to visit Lord David, who was preparing to leave. Marcus stayed near the door, out of the way, but he could not help watching as the earl took his leave of the queen before turning to his daughter. Elizabeth moved to the window to give them some privacy, but she and Marcus were both close enough to overhear the conversation.
"It will do me no good to entreat you to change your mind, will it?" Lord David asked his daughter.
Kate shook her head, her voice low but not so low Marcus could not hear her. "I would be lying if I said was unafraid, but even if Elizabeth was leaving, I could not leave Laura to face this alone."
David nodded and sighed. Then he pulled Kate into an embrace. "Be safe, my dear. I will return as soon as I am able."
Kate was blinking back tears as her father collected his belongings. Marcus caught his eye as the man was approaching the door, and he nodded respectfully. "My lord."
David paused, glancing back over his shoulder. "Keep them safe, Captain. Both of them."
Fear flared through him for a moment, wondering what David might know about Marcus and his daughter, but he cleared his throat. "I will, my lord."
The older man departed and for a moment nobody moved. Kate wiped a stray tear from her cheek and Marcus wanted more than anything to cross the space between them and comfort her. If he had only said something to her during the winter, perhaps he would have that right, but he hadn't. Through the weeks of the summit meeting and then the winter, it sometimes seemed as if Kate was drawing closer to him. In the wake of her refusing Charles of Neill, Marcus had begun to hope he might be able to win her back, but he had not been able to take the actual step of speaking to her.
She had accepted his apology at Solstice, and that had helped, but that alone did not mean she still cared for him. Kate had many reasons not to allow herself to become entangled with him again. Her reputation had been hurt by their romance, no matter how she attempted to deny it. And she had been hurt by his mistrust. He should have known better, should have recognized that being born into the nobility was the only trait Kate and Felicia shared.
His own insecurity had caused this rift. The memory of what Felicia had done to him had controlled him for far too long, and it had been unfair of him to burden Kate with those fears, especially without explaining them to her. He owed her that much. Even if she ultimately refused him, she deserved to understand his motives, although he was hardly proud of himself.
She still desired him, though. He was certain of that. If Beckett hadn't come blundering down the stairs that day, Marcus would have reached for her and she would not have pushed him away, any more than she had that night in Athos. Something was always getting in their way, it seemed.
Well, if Marcus were honest with himself, he was the obstacle most in their way now. Kate had taken no pains to avoid him lately, allowing herself to be alone with him and providing several opportunities for them to speak privately. He hadn't taken any of them. He hardly knew where to begin. It was strangely only now, as the battle drew near, that he remembered what remaining silent too long had cost him before. He had been determined not to speak his love or his intentions aloud until he was certain his regard was returned, and never once thought of what message that sent to Kate. By not speaking or making himself clear, he had let his lust be the only thing she was sure of. It was no wonder Kate had sustained doubts about him.
And here he was, repeating the same hesitance, even though it had cost him so dearly before. Marcus sighed. If he was going to rekindle her feelings, he had to stop making the same mistakes. There were no doubt new ones he would make, but at least they would be honest.
Kate glanced at him curiously, and he held her eyes, wondering if she could see where his thoughts were. She flushed slightly, suggesting she did, but then the queen spoke, distracting them from each other.
"That is odd." He and Kate moved to the window when Elizabeth pointed. "It appears there is a party crossing toward the island."
Anyone of sense was going the other direction. "It may be the soldiers from the garrison to the east, my lady." Riders had been sent out immediately after the warning had arrived to summon the soldiers who remained in the northern part of the country to make for the capital with all speed, but the locals were already within the castle, and none of the others were expected to arrive so swiftly.
The three of them hastened toward the courtyard, which was crowded with people waiting their turn to leave the city. The guards at the doors were clustered together and speaking excitedly, and when Elizabeth appeared, one of them called, "Majesty, it is the Asgard!"
Elizabeth closed her eyes for a moment, letting out a deep breath as gasps and cheers went up through the throng. "Have Lord Jonathan and Lord Daniel summoned at once."
The young man bowed. "It has already been done, my lady."
"Master McKay should be sent for as well," Kate added, and the queen nodded to the man to make it so.
Marcus recognized Master Thor at the seat of the bulky cart that drove into the city first, scattering people right and left as they dodged out of the way. It was somewhat amazing that the awkward vehicle had not only made it across the isthmus intact but that it had not knocked anyone going the other way into the ocean in the process.
Two more carts pulled in, each carrying a couple of the priests. By the time they were situated to be out of the way of the crowds, Jack and Daniel had arrived. Thor approached the queen and bowed.
"My lady, the Asgard have come to answer your request for aid."
Elizabeth nodded. "I am most relieved, Master Thor."
There was an odd note in her voice. Thor blinked at her, then looked at Jack before turning back to the queen. "My lady, whatever our opinions on other matters may be, we would not allow both friends and allies to fall to the predations of the Wraith without doing everything in our power to help."
Elizabeth bit her lip slightly and looked away at that. Jack stepped forward. "The Wraith will be here by nightfall. May I ask what you have brought?"
Thor turned to the carts. "The weapon that was used in Caldora. We have three at the moment. I must caution you, they are temperamental machines and can be discharged just once. But the Wraith will have seen nothing like them."
"Will you also aid Master McKay in the manufacturing of the gunpowder?" Elizabeth asked, point blank. "It would help greatly in evening the odds on the water, with so many ships approaching."
Thor exchanged a glance with the others. "We brought what supplies we already have, Majesty, but we will review the process in use and ensure it is as efficient as possible."
The queen nodded in relief. Extra supplies of the gunpowder could prove the decisive factor in what was to come. "I will leave you to confer with Lord Jonathan and Master McKay, then. There is not a moment to lose."
The queen returned to her study. Marcus' eye lingered on Kate as he closed the door. Elizabeth was right; there was little time left. He resolved within himself that this battle would not come upon them in silence. He would speak to Kate - about what, precisely, he was not sure - before then.
*~*~*~*
Ronon stood watching the exodus from Atlantis in silence for much of the afternoon. The guard still following him had cast suspicious looks about it at first, but when Ronon merely remained still for a long time, the young man relaxed.
That relaxation would have been enough for Ronon to escape if he wanted to. The people here might assume the injury to his back would impair him, but he'd had far worse. The Wraith slavers were not known for giving their chattel time to recuperate. They were more likely to turn other prisoners against the injured like a pack turning against a weak hound. Ronon had gauged the captain of the queen's guard when he saw the man in passing and knew the captain would not suffer incompetence in his men, but none of them were a match for someone who had survived seven years of brutal in-fighting on a Wraith ship.
It was difficult to remain passive. Every passerby made him want to crouch and reach for a weapon. He stayed his hand, though, keeping his fingers clenched tightly around his arms to resist the impulse. It was enough to know he could gain his freedom at any time. He could even simply ask to go, and he could join the line of people heading for the mainland. Nobody in the palace was likely to stop him.
Finally he heard light footsteps approach and was not surprised to see Teyla looking for him. "Prince."
He nodded, his arms still crossed. The guard frowned, but Teyla looked amused about something. "Her Majesty will see you now."
She turned and he fell into step behind her. It was only when they passed someone else in the hallway and the woman curtsied to Teyla that Ronon remembered that he should have at least acknowledged her title. Those rituals seemed like something from a book now. Atalan might still call him a prince, but he had no home and no people, not anymore. He pushed the memories away and did what he had spent the last seven years doing - concentrating on the present.
He'd requested to speak to the queen as soon as word came that his report had been confirmed. His main purpose in escaping had been to help prevent Atlantis from falling to the Wraith. Whether he died in the attempt had been immaterial at the time, but now he could pursue a larger and more personal goal.
The young queen was speaking with several gentlemen when Teyla brought him into the throne room. He waited as the conversation finished and remembered to bow to the queen, though it was mostly just his head and the motion felt stiff and uncomfortable. The lady did not seem disturbed by it. "How are you feeling, Highness?"
She was watching him with deliberate calm, and Ronon knew she noted the tension in him at the use of his title. "I am well. Thank you."
The queen waited for a beat before accepting that was all the answer she was to have. Thankfully, she got to the point. "You wished to speak to me?"
"I want to fight."
A couple of the noblemen looked at him in surprise. The dark haired man - the queen's betrothed, Ronon recalled - did not.
Queen Elizabeth leaned back in her chair. "I do not ask it of you. You did more than enough by delivering the warning."
He shook his head. "I don't want to fight for you." He drew in a breath. Words were difficult to find, and the formality of the setting was unnerving him. "It's... about justice."
The room was silent for a moment. With all eyes on him, Ronon remained motionless, looking at the queen, but his body was alert and straining against the instinct to lash out before someone else could. The queen glanced toward the others, and he could see the doubt in her face. He hardly blamed them for it. If he had been sent as a spy or saboteur, him getting into the fighting lines would be highly useful to the Wraith. An infiltrator could wreak havoc. An escaped slave, though, provided valuable help and information. He tried that tack.
"I know their tactics, defenses. You need me."
The queen and her betrothed exchanged a long, silent look. She then turned to Teyla and finally back to Ronon. "Very well. Lady Teyla will take you to the armory shortly. You will remain under guard until the fighting begins."
He nodded, not desiring to pick a fight when he'd gotten what he wanted.
The queen rose. She was tall for a woman, though still shorter than him. He could see fear in her eyes as she came closer to him, though not close enough to touch. The fear grated against his nerves but he swallowed. There was also respect in her gaze and that almost made him fidget more. "Without your warning, it is doubtful we would have known what was coming before the armada was at our door. We are in your debt, Ronon Dex. No matter what occurs, that shall not be forgotten."
He bowed uneasily and the queen tilted her head slightly in acknowledgment, and to his immense relief, the interview ended.
An hour later he arrived at the armory. The door was open, and the guard outside made no move to stop him as he entered. Teyla was waiting for him, but Ronon's eye was drawn to the small table, on which lay several scabbards. "My lord, the queen offers your choice among these. There are extra belts for them as well."
She leaned back, watching as he approached the table. He looked over the swords laid out but then his breath caught in his throat. His hand reached out automatically for the sword on the furthest end. It had a long grip, wrapped in leather, and a narrow cross guard that was marked on the ends. The blade was wide, but along the middle was a groove that ran most of the length of the blade, ending out near the point. The fuller lessened the weight of the steel without loss of strength. Unlike the other weapons on the table, this one was intended to be used with two hands rather than one. The pommel was a distinctive disc shape, the wide edge of the circle covered in copper.
There was no mistaking the handiwork. The sword was Satedan.
He looked up abruptly, remembering he was not alone, to find Teyla watching him closely.
This had been a test, he realized. Whether of his identity or his intentions, he did not know, nor was he certain who arranged it, though somehow he thought it was not Teyla. Her expression seemed to indicate he had passed, regardless.
She approached and looked more closely at the blade. "It will need sharpening. The queen said this has been stored here for some time. We can go to the blacksmith together."
He noticed then that she had a scabbard slung over her shoulder, and the way she held it told him it was not the first time. She wore a heavy leather vest and braces along her arms and legs, and in her boots he could see sheathed knives. "You intend to fight?" he blurted, incredulous. The woman barely came to his shoulder. The idea of her grappling with a Wraith seemed ridiculous. He could have crushed her throat with one hand.
Teyla's eyes narrowed and she drew the sword free with practiced ease. "I will fight for my country, my lord, and my home. Just as you would."
He gave no warning, just drew the sword and attacked, not thinking of the panic he might be causing, but she parried his move effectively and backed away, holding her weapon at ready. Someone shouted from the doorway, but Teyla did not remove her eyes from him. His lips drew back in a feral snarl as he closed in on her, or attempted to. She was quick as a fox and slippery as a fish. He would have easily overpowered her, if she would have stood still for a second. He growled without knowing it as she darted away yet again. He lunged after her, catching her blade. She pushed back, and since he was off balance was able to deflect the blow.
Distantly he was aware of the warm amusement in her eyes, matched by a battle fire he never expected to encounter in any woman, much less a fine lady of a court. She made the most of her advantages as they sparred, and he began to reconsider the idea of her battling an enemy as futile.
The fun ended a moment later, though. Their blades had just clashed again when a voice bellowed, "What in hell is going on here?"
Lord John stood in the doorway, his face like a thundercloud. The two guards were standing in the hall, gaping. Ronon had forgotten them entirely.
Teyla shook a stray lock of hair from her face. She was breathing deeply but her expression was serene. "Nothing, my lord. Prince Ronon expressed doubt that I could hold my own in battle."
The other man was glaring at Ronon so he subsided, sheathing the sword. Lord John shook his head. "Well, I imagine you have disabused him of that notion, my lady. Perhaps we should place you and your bantos rods between us and the Wraith and simply watch?"
Teyla swatted at him for that and Ronon felt his throat tighten for a moment. It was not Teyla herself that made jealousy stir in him, but the camaraderie between them. These two people were friends and allies, who shared a past and knew where they stood with each other. Ronon could not remember the last time he had held no fear of those around him, when he could speak honestly to another living soul without it being a risk.
"We should go," he snapped.
The other two looked at him for a moment. Teyla seemed to read something in his expression, for she nodded, but John held up a hand. "I thought you could use these," he said, offering something to Ronon.
It was a pair of leather gauntlets, with three buckles on each to adjust their fit. They looked new.
John grinned. "I'm not sure we can find full scale armor in your size, but it's a start."
Teyla smiled as well and for the first time in a very, very long time, Ronon felt the corners of his mouth turn up in response.
*~*~*~*
Carson had seen his share of blood, but even the attack on Hoff two years ago was a minor skirmish compared to what was about to happen. He would have been nervous in any case, but he wasn't sure he could manage to walk out and leave Laura now, trapped near the top of the tower and unable to move on her own while their home was under siege.
With Kate and Perna's help, she had moved to one of the rooms in the queen's suite that afternoon. She was pale and hadn't said much all day, and her obvious fear made it even harder. Her spirits had remained high since the morning sickness had left her, and to see her so subdued made his throat close over. He'd thought she would never look as beautiful as she had the day of their wedding, but watching as her body changed and her belly swelled with their child had taught him the foolishness of his romanticism. Laura complained about her swollen ankles and the other alterations, but Carson only marked them as evidence of the miracle that was happening within her.
Many more nights than she realized, he had lain awake with his hand against her belly, feeling the baby moving within her. The wonder of it never ceased to amaze him. It was difficult to believe that just a few short days ago, his only concern had been keeping Laura safe during the delivery. Now his fears had multiplied many times over.
He went through the motions of eating, certain that Laura had only taken a few spoonfuls of broth for her supper, which he'd insisted she eat before he left. His wife had countered that she would only eat if he did. Carson managed to worry down a few crackers, but finally he gave up the farce of this being a normal evening meal.
Perna removed the tray from Laura's bed and stepped outside. The door closed over behind her, and in the privacy, Carson sat down on the edge of the bed. Laura struggled to sit upright as much as she could. He cupped her cheek and leaned in and kissed her. The angle was awkward, but the kiss grew frantic anyway. When he drew away, he tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear. "I love you, Laura," he said lowly.
"I love you," she said, her hands holding his shoulders tightly. "Promise me you will be careful."
Some of the cavernous storerooms at the base of the towers had been converted to an infirmary, prepared to receive the wounded. Carson was relieved that Master Hermiod had come with the other Asgard to aid them, and the healers and nurses were all capable. But by necessity they would be near the fighting, and if the defenses were overrun, there would not be many places to go that were safe.
It was ironic, he thought, that his only thoughts were of her safety up here, while hers were entirely about his downstairs.
"I will," he promised her. "We'll be off out of the way enough. I'll be all right."
She nodded, one hand rubbing her belly absently. "So will we."
Carson laid his hand alongside hers, his heart beating harder. He did not want to go. For the first time in his professional life, he honestly considered abdicating his oath as a physician. But that was not the father he wanted for this child. Instead, he bent his head and whispered, "I love you too, little one."
Laura's eyes glistened with tears as he kissed her again before rising from the bed. He tucked her in, making sure her pillows were arranged comfortably, and she squeezed his hand before he stepped away. "I'll see you in a few hours, love."
She made a wry face. "Well, we'll be here."
He managed to call up a small smile for her, and then hurried out the door, before his resolve could fail.
*~*~*~*
Adjacent to Elizabeth's sitting room was the room where once their governess had slept. It had stood empty for some time now, but now Laura was settled there for the time being. Perna had not looked happy about moving Laura, but Marcus had insisted that the royal chambers would be easier to defend if the fighting came into the palace. It was something Kate was trying not to dwell upon.
Elizabeth and the midwife were with Laura now in the room, which had not been given adequate time to air out and thus was already somewhat uncomfortable. Lady Sarah would be there soon as well. Kate was pacing aimlessly in the sitting room, knowing that before long she would be cloistered in the bedchamber with the others. She could only pray that they would all survive the night.
The door to the corridor opened. Kate did not have to look to know who had entered. "Kate?" Marcus said when he had shut the door behind himself.
"All is quiet," she replied. "What brings you here?"
"Most of the guards are with the army," he said. "I will be down the corridor. I know that when the Ori struck, the captain of the guard fought with the troops, but I cannot leave the queen."
"When the Ori struck, the king was fighting too," Kate reminded him.
Marcus crossed the room to the window where she stood. For a long, heavy moment she watched him wrestle with something, and then he reached for her hand. After all the times recently when something had started between them and then not finished, Kate was almost surprised when his fingers wrapped around hers. His skin was so warm. "Kate," he said, his voice rough, "if the worst happens, there is a way out. Directly down the back stairs, all the way to the bottom. There is a corridor that ends in that little grotto in the cliff. You remember. Two of my men are down there now with a boat that can carry you to the mainland."
Kate had been down there before, but she was too alarmed to tell him that. "Marcus, you can't expect me to..."
"Kate, I will defend you all with my life," he interrupted. His free hand cupped her cheek. In any other circumstance she might have blushed, but her heart was racing now from fear. "But if I die, I need you to take the queen away from here."
"And abandon Laura and the others?" she shot back without thinking. "You cannot be serious. You cannot expect me to-"
"You will be the last defense," he almost growled. "I love Laura as though she were my sister, but Elizabeth is our sovereign, and she has no heir. I must think of her safety first, much as it pains me to think of such a sacrifice. It is for Atalan, and I dare say that Laura would tell you the same thing." His hands fell away from her, and his voice softened. "Please, Kate."
Her throat was too tight for her to trust her voice. Instead, she merely nodded.
She expected him to go then, but instead he moved even closer. "There is something else I would say to you."
"What?" she whispered.
He moved as though to touch her again, but his hands dropped back to his sides. "I'm so sorry," he said. "I need you to know why I waited so long to tell you that I loved you."
Kate bit her lip to keep it from trembling. She did not want to think of why he would choose such a moment to tell her this.
Marcus took several deep breaths, seeming to steady himself, and he looked outside, where the afternoon's drizzle was just beginning to clear. "I was in love with a woman once before," he said. "A noblewoman. She said she loved me, but the moment I was out of her bed, she was promising herself to another, a man of rank and wealth. I was nothing more than a plaything to her."
Kate swallowed hard. She had known his reputation for some time, but hearing him say it for himself was another matter. Still, she forced herself to think beyond his indiscretions, for they were not the heart of this story.
"This lady did you a great injustice, I think," she murmured.
"Believe me when I say that you are a hundred times better than her," he replied. "But when we only saw each other in secret, when you told me why you could not marry me... I was never good enough for her. And I was not good enough for you."
"Marcus," Kate protested, thinking he meant the difference in their rank, "that's not true." But his next words showed he was thinking of something else.
"It is. I should have known you were above such mercenary behavior. I knew that you would not be so capricious, but I let my pride and my hurt control me. I didn't trust you-"
"I gave you no reason to trust me," she interrupted, thinking of her impatience with him over Lord Aaron. For a moment she bit her lip again, but then she forged ahead. There was no sense in holding back now. "I was afraid, Marcus. For some time now I have been determined not to marry a man who would seek to use me for his own designs, or try to control me. Then in Iolan..."
She did not know what else to say, and the pain on Marcus' face was almost too much to bear. "I know," he said gently, his fingers brushing her hair away from her face.
Kate shook her head. "I should have told you. Done something to reassure you. I don't know."
That much at least was true, even though he shared the blame for their fight. She could not reconcile her feelings in her own heart, let alone express them. But Marcus did not press her for anything further. Instead, he nodded. "There is one other woman I feel I should tell you of, for she is your friend," he said slowly. When she frowned in confusion, he mumbled, "Teyla."
That startled her, though a moment later she realized this explained a great deal about how the two interacted occasionally. Marcus took her silence as disapproval and quickly added, "It was a long time ago. When her father died, we drifted apart. And - and it was not long before I could think of none but you."
He leaned even closer and Kate could not breathe. Then, as though he could not help himself, he closed the distance and his lips brushed against hers. She was frozen for a moment, even though she should have expected this. His fingers slid into her hair and she ran her hands up his arms to rest on his shoulders. When she did not push him away, he quickly coaxed her lips to part, and before long the kiss was deep and hungry and desperate. He explored her mouth greedily, like he was remembering and rediscovering all at once. Kate clung to him fiercely, hands clutching his collar as her own memories collided with the present. She had forgotten so much, yet his smell, his touch, his taste were all still firmly fixed in her mind.
They had kissed many times before, but there was something different about this time, something Kate could not discern until Marcus had drawn away and met her eyes once more.
This time, it was goodbye.
The realization made her tremble. "Kate, please," he whispered. "Do not doubt that I loved you, more deeply than I could ever express."
She could not speak, but neither did he wait for her reply. Without another word, he walked out of the room, his back stiff as though he was forcing himself to leave.
For her part, Kate watched him go, and then she turned to the window and wept, knowing there was nothing left for her to do but pray that this was not the end.
Elizabeth was sleeping, but not very well, when first a knock roused her. She made some noise that might have been a request that the person at the door kindly go away, but the next thing she knew, Kate was shaking her shoulder and telling her she had to get up. The Prometheus had returned.
Groggy, she let Kate help her into her robe before they entered the antechamber. There was a small crowd of men gathered, each looking grim and exhausted. Somewhere in the back of her mind Elizabeth wondered how they were to defend the island if they were all half-asleep, but she put such thoughts away for now. The room was very dark, lit only by a few candles carried by some of her supplicants. Outside, rain was pounding down, and Elizabeth hoped the weather would not be a further impediment to their efforts.
Daniel and Jack were there, as were Marcus, Pendergast, and Captain Ronson, but she was a little surprised to see John with them. When their eyes met, she remembered the last time they had been alone in this room, and she held her robe closed close to her throat.
The gesture seemed to remind the other men of the hour. "My lady, forgive us this intrusion," Jack said. "But as you can see, Captain Ronson has returned, and I fear his news could not wait until morning."
Elizabeth turned her eyes to the captain. "Then the prince's word was true," she said softly.
Ronson nodded, though he would not meet her gaze. "We have no more than a day, and then only if we are lucky. The Wraith already make for Atlantis."
The room froze for a moment. Elizabeth had been hoping for at least two more days to prepare, and despair closed her throat. How were they to finish their plans and get everyone from the city in a single day?
Jack shook himself from shock first. "How are they are so close already?"
"It's possible they accelerated their plans after the prince escaped," John observed.
Elizabeth let her gaze flit from one face to another before asking her next question. "And how many ships are coming to take my city?"
The captain straightened, and this time he met her eyes. "Fifteen."
At that she swore under her breath, to the shock of several of the men in the room. But this was no time for niceties. "We have not half that number," she said, then looked at Pendergast. "What say you?"
He hesitated, exchanging a glance with Ronson. "I will have more to say in the morning, your Majesty, but I believe we must still stick with our strengths."
Elizabeth nodded. "Very well." She waited for a moment, trying to compose her thoughts before continuing. "In the morning the island must be evacuated," she said. "It must be done in an orderly fashion, but as swiftly as possible. Jack, can you spare any of your men for that endeavor?"
"Of course," he said. "Master McKay's fortifications should be complete by tomorrow evening, anyway."
"Then that is one thing I will not have to worry about."
Daniel took a step forward then. "This is the last time I shall mention this. I believe you would put a great number of people at ease if you departed for the mainland."
"I am sure I would," Elizabeth replied, though she trembled inside. "But my decision stands." John looked very much like he wanted to say something, but he held his tongue. "What time is it?" she asked of the room.
"Just after midnight," Jack said. "We should probably all try to get some sleep."
"Yes," she agreed. "We may not have that many hours left before the Wraith are on our doorstep, but it would not do to deprive ourselves of rest in the interim."
The two sea captains took their leave, but the others remained. Elizabeth looked about the room for a moment. "What is it?"
"Now that Prince Ronon's word has been confirmed, it is time to send word of this to our allies," Daniel said. "We can help you draft letters, if you wish."
Daniel, Jack, and John each had connections in the courts of other countries, some going back before she was born. Of the monarchs on the continent now, she had only met two face to face, and one of those meetings was still not public knowledge. She nodded very slightly. "Yes, thank you," she replied. "But I will write to Radek myself."
No one objected to that, not even John. "We should have such letters ready to depart at sunrise," he pointed out.
"You will be writing to Prince Cameron, will you not?" Elizabeth asked him. When John nodded, she turned to Kate. "We might as well do this here and now." Truthfully she doubted she would be able to go back to sleep now in any case.
Kate took the candle Marcus carried and began lighting more of the tapers around the room. As it slowly grew brighter around them, Elizabeth went to the box upon her table and drew out parchment, quills, and ink.
Before long, the room was silent save the sounds of pens scratching against paper. Within the hour, Elizabeth sealed letters to their allies and watched as John pressed his own crest to the letter for his cousin. When they looked at each other, she knew that he felt what she felt, that no letter was sufficient for what they were about to face.
*~*~*~*
A restless night had not helped Teyla's nerves, and when she awoke the news was all through Atlantis that the Wraith ships had been sighted and would be at the doorstep by nightfall. The maid who came to help her dress looked scared half out of her wits already. Teyla dismissed the poor girl, knowing the queen would release any of the servants who wished to leave. Elizabeth would not force her own people into danger if it could be avoided.
Teyla expected to spend the day helping with preparations, but she was somewhat surprised when she was summoned to the harbor entrance early in the morning, along with the queen and most of her inner circle. Pendergast was there with the assembled captains - Emerson, Ronson, Ellis and Marks - all of them looking nervous. She would have thought they would be too busy for further meetings with the sovereign at this point.
Pendergast seemed to brace himself. "My lady, we have been discussing our strategy and with your permission, we have a new plan we wish to implement." He drew a deep breath. "I recommend that we send the four ships represented here around the far side of the island prior to the battle, to lie in wait."
Teyla frowned, as did Jack. "You mean them not to engage?" the commander of the army asked, surprised. "These are the four newest and fastest ships in Atalan's fleet, and not two days ago you were expounding on how important they would be to defending the island!"
It was Captain Ronson who spoke. "My lord, we will only move out of the sight line of the harbor entrance. Once the Wraith have entered the shallow waters, we will sail 'round the bulk of the island and come in from behind, cutting off their escape."
There was a long pause as his words sank in. Teyla glanced at the harbor. With a little effort she could envision the plan. The Wraith ships would be boxed in, assuming that all the Wraith ships actually entered the harbor. She chose not to voice that thought aloud.
"You intend to use the narrow channel to the harbor to trap them, so they cannot retreat," John put in.
"Yes, my lord," Emerson nodded. "They will likely assume we will place every ship at our disposal in the path between the harbor and the palace, as we originally intended to do. But by holding back some part of our fleet, we can prevent them from escaping with any significant force intact, and possibly prevent any escape at all."
It was an extremely daring plan. Also an extremely risky one. Teyla could already think of a dozen things that could go wrong, and leave Atlantis with a good portion of its navy unable to act while an enormous force bore down upon the island.
The queen had a more salient question. "Can the ships maneuver fast enough all the way around the island?"
"My lady, our ships are far faster and more maneuverable than any of the stolen vessels the Wraith employ," Ellis replied. Teyla had interacted with the man a handful of times and had not developed a favorable impression of him. The tone of his reply to the queen suggested the captain had a general disdain for women, even his own sovereign.
Pendergast frowned at Ellis before turning to Elizabeth. "It is an ambitious strategy, Majesty. I believe it is a sound one, though there are a few too many unknowns for my taste. The Wraith may not commit all their ships to invading the harbor."
"In which case, they could present a threat to the palace or the city from the other side, so the ability of our newest ships to engage them could prove vital," Jack said, his face grim.
"Precisely," Pendergast nodded. "But one thing I am certain of, my lady. The Wraith will not have seen the like of this. And surprise in wartime is always a tactical advantage."
Elizabeth stared out at the water for a moment before looking to Jack. He was frowning but he rubbed his face restlessly. "Lionel is correct. I am not happy about reducing the forces between us and the Wraith raiding parties. It will add stress to the defenders, who will already be too few for my liking. But we have McKay's traps, and the gunpowder." Standing beside Jack, Daniel nodded absently, his eyes on the line of people already exiting Atlantis for the mainland.
The queen's gaze skipped to John, who shrugged. "I have no skill at sea battles, my lady, but given that we don't know what precisely they will do, locking ourselves into a response beforehand seems less preferable to me."
Elizabeth digested that, and then finally looked at Teyla. She weighed her words for a long moment, knowing that her opinion would be taken with utmost seriousness by the queen. "I would rather fight to the last man at the gates of Atlantis and see the bulk of the Wraith fleet destroyed than allow them to escape and regroup for another assault, Majesty." It was true her own fears for Athos played into this advice, but all the long years of her life, Teyla's people had been fending off the Wraith again and again. She wanted done with it, and in the midst of this terrible hour, she at long last saw a way. "They have concentrated their resources, and they are delivering themselves to us. We should make what we can of that opportunity, for we may never get another."
Emerson and Ronson both nodded in agreement. Elizabeth considered for a moment, her fingers tightening in a way Teyla recognized as a sign of tension. Then the queen expelled a sharp breath. "Do it."
The group dispersed, Elizabeth, Daniel and Captain Lorne returning to the palace while Teyla went with Jack and John to look at the final efforts of Master McKay and the palace defenses. Underneath her breath she muttered a prayer to the ancestors that their great gamble would not end badly for everyone.
*~*~*~*
The official call went out in the morning for the island to be evacuated by sundown. Two days had allowed for quite a few who had the means to depart already, but nature was working against them. Passage across the isthmus was difficult and the wagons that had been enlisted to carry the old and sick kept getting stuck in mud. Behind the wagons was a procession of people, many carrying bundles of valuables. The livestock were left behind, though, to speed the process. The shuffling line extended across to the mainland by early morning, and the soldiers watched carefully to prevent a stampede that would be potentially catastrophic on the narrow passage.
Despite the grim visual of Atlantis emptying, Marcus was heartened by the number of men and even some women who volunteered to stay and fight. He knew it was not solely out of patriotism. The town enclosed by the protective wall of the palace was home to many, and hatred of the Wraith was a more profound motivator than love of queen or country. Still, every hand would be of use.
The rest of the guard were helping wherever they were needed. Only Marcus and Stackhouse had remained with the queen; even young Aiden Ford had been removed from guarding Lord John for the duration, which seemed to relieve the nobleman a bit. The pace of the preparations went from hurried to frantic as the news of the Prometheus' report filtered through the court. McKay had the more skilled technicians hurriedly compounding the gunpowder, while others forged arrowheads and blades, sacrificing artistry for speed and sharpness, and the rest dug fortifications or lugged materials to and fro.
Their numbers were too few no matter how many new inventions McKay could conjure, or holes could be dug in the earth. Lord Jonathan insisted that they still had the advantage of an entrenched position and the archers, not to mention the gunpowder, but knowing just how many ships were coming was unsettling.
Knowing the Wraith had that many ships at their disposal was unsettling. As if defending the palace was not difficult enough, Marcus understood that they also must ensure the Wraith fleet did not withdraw intact. Otherwise the scum could simply retreat, gather themselves and strike again at will. Atlantis would be in a permanent state of siege if that happened.
His mind seemed to be running endlessly over scenarios of the battle. He'd finally fallen into an exhausted sleep well after the queen finished her midnight meeting, but he kept reviewing the passages of the palace, the most defensible positions within and the likeliest escape routes. Marcus wished with all his heart that Elizabeth had left the island. He understood her reasons and even admired the unsurprisingly loyalty to her friend, but he was charged now to guard not only Elizabeth and Kate but also two pregnant women and the midwife, with only one other pair of hands.
He followed silently as the queen and Kate went to visit Lord David, who was preparing to leave. Marcus stayed near the door, out of the way, but he could not help watching as the earl took his leave of the queen before turning to his daughter. Elizabeth moved to the window to give them some privacy, but she and Marcus were both close enough to overhear the conversation.
"It will do me no good to entreat you to change your mind, will it?" Lord David asked his daughter.
Kate shook her head, her voice low but not so low Marcus could not hear her. "I would be lying if I said was unafraid, but even if Elizabeth was leaving, I could not leave Laura to face this alone."
David nodded and sighed. Then he pulled Kate into an embrace. "Be safe, my dear. I will return as soon as I am able."
Kate was blinking back tears as her father collected his belongings. Marcus caught his eye as the man was approaching the door, and he nodded respectfully. "My lord."
David paused, glancing back over his shoulder. "Keep them safe, Captain. Both of them."
Fear flared through him for a moment, wondering what David might know about Marcus and his daughter, but he cleared his throat. "I will, my lord."
The older man departed and for a moment nobody moved. Kate wiped a stray tear from her cheek and Marcus wanted more than anything to cross the space between them and comfort her. If he had only said something to her during the winter, perhaps he would have that right, but he hadn't. Through the weeks of the summit meeting and then the winter, it sometimes seemed as if Kate was drawing closer to him. In the wake of her refusing Charles of Neill, Marcus had begun to hope he might be able to win her back, but he had not been able to take the actual step of speaking to her.
She had accepted his apology at Solstice, and that had helped, but that alone did not mean she still cared for him. Kate had many reasons not to allow herself to become entangled with him again. Her reputation had been hurt by their romance, no matter how she attempted to deny it. And she had been hurt by his mistrust. He should have known better, should have recognized that being born into the nobility was the only trait Kate and Felicia shared.
His own insecurity had caused this rift. The memory of what Felicia had done to him had controlled him for far too long, and it had been unfair of him to burden Kate with those fears, especially without explaining them to her. He owed her that much. Even if she ultimately refused him, she deserved to understand his motives, although he was hardly proud of himself.
She still desired him, though. He was certain of that. If Beckett hadn't come blundering down the stairs that day, Marcus would have reached for her and she would not have pushed him away, any more than she had that night in Athos. Something was always getting in their way, it seemed.
Well, if Marcus were honest with himself, he was the obstacle most in their way now. Kate had taken no pains to avoid him lately, allowing herself to be alone with him and providing several opportunities for them to speak privately. He hadn't taken any of them. He hardly knew where to begin. It was strangely only now, as the battle drew near, that he remembered what remaining silent too long had cost him before. He had been determined not to speak his love or his intentions aloud until he was certain his regard was returned, and never once thought of what message that sent to Kate. By not speaking or making himself clear, he had let his lust be the only thing she was sure of. It was no wonder Kate had sustained doubts about him.
And here he was, repeating the same hesitance, even though it had cost him so dearly before. Marcus sighed. If he was going to rekindle her feelings, he had to stop making the same mistakes. There were no doubt new ones he would make, but at least they would be honest.
Kate glanced at him curiously, and he held her eyes, wondering if she could see where his thoughts were. She flushed slightly, suggesting she did, but then the queen spoke, distracting them from each other.
"That is odd." He and Kate moved to the window when Elizabeth pointed. "It appears there is a party crossing toward the island."
Anyone of sense was going the other direction. "It may be the soldiers from the garrison to the east, my lady." Riders had been sent out immediately after the warning had arrived to summon the soldiers who remained in the northern part of the country to make for the capital with all speed, but the locals were already within the castle, and none of the others were expected to arrive so swiftly.
The three of them hastened toward the courtyard, which was crowded with people waiting their turn to leave the city. The guards at the doors were clustered together and speaking excitedly, and when Elizabeth appeared, one of them called, "Majesty, it is the Asgard!"
Elizabeth closed her eyes for a moment, letting out a deep breath as gasps and cheers went up through the throng. "Have Lord Jonathan and Lord Daniel summoned at once."
The young man bowed. "It has already been done, my lady."
"Master McKay should be sent for as well," Kate added, and the queen nodded to the man to make it so.
Marcus recognized Master Thor at the seat of the bulky cart that drove into the city first, scattering people right and left as they dodged out of the way. It was somewhat amazing that the awkward vehicle had not only made it across the isthmus intact but that it had not knocked anyone going the other way into the ocean in the process.
Two more carts pulled in, each carrying a couple of the priests. By the time they were situated to be out of the way of the crowds, Jack and Daniel had arrived. Thor approached the queen and bowed.
"My lady, the Asgard have come to answer your request for aid."
Elizabeth nodded. "I am most relieved, Master Thor."
There was an odd note in her voice. Thor blinked at her, then looked at Jack before turning back to the queen. "My lady, whatever our opinions on other matters may be, we would not allow both friends and allies to fall to the predations of the Wraith without doing everything in our power to help."
Elizabeth bit her lip slightly and looked away at that. Jack stepped forward. "The Wraith will be here by nightfall. May I ask what you have brought?"
Thor turned to the carts. "The weapon that was used in Caldora. We have three at the moment. I must caution you, they are temperamental machines and can be discharged just once. But the Wraith will have seen nothing like them."
"Will you also aid Master McKay in the manufacturing of the gunpowder?" Elizabeth asked, point blank. "It would help greatly in evening the odds on the water, with so many ships approaching."
Thor exchanged a glance with the others. "We brought what supplies we already have, Majesty, but we will review the process in use and ensure it is as efficient as possible."
The queen nodded in relief. Extra supplies of the gunpowder could prove the decisive factor in what was to come. "I will leave you to confer with Lord Jonathan and Master McKay, then. There is not a moment to lose."
The queen returned to her study. Marcus' eye lingered on Kate as he closed the door. Elizabeth was right; there was little time left. He resolved within himself that this battle would not come upon them in silence. He would speak to Kate - about what, precisely, he was not sure - before then.
*~*~*~*
Ronon stood watching the exodus from Atlantis in silence for much of the afternoon. The guard still following him had cast suspicious looks about it at first, but when Ronon merely remained still for a long time, the young man relaxed.
That relaxation would have been enough for Ronon to escape if he wanted to. The people here might assume the injury to his back would impair him, but he'd had far worse. The Wraith slavers were not known for giving their chattel time to recuperate. They were more likely to turn other prisoners against the injured like a pack turning against a weak hound. Ronon had gauged the captain of the queen's guard when he saw the man in passing and knew the captain would not suffer incompetence in his men, but none of them were a match for someone who had survived seven years of brutal in-fighting on a Wraith ship.
It was difficult to remain passive. Every passerby made him want to crouch and reach for a weapon. He stayed his hand, though, keeping his fingers clenched tightly around his arms to resist the impulse. It was enough to know he could gain his freedom at any time. He could even simply ask to go, and he could join the line of people heading for the mainland. Nobody in the palace was likely to stop him.
Finally he heard light footsteps approach and was not surprised to see Teyla looking for him. "Prince."
He nodded, his arms still crossed. The guard frowned, but Teyla looked amused about something. "Her Majesty will see you now."
She turned and he fell into step behind her. It was only when they passed someone else in the hallway and the woman curtsied to Teyla that Ronon remembered that he should have at least acknowledged her title. Those rituals seemed like something from a book now. Atalan might still call him a prince, but he had no home and no people, not anymore. He pushed the memories away and did what he had spent the last seven years doing - concentrating on the present.
He'd requested to speak to the queen as soon as word came that his report had been confirmed. His main purpose in escaping had been to help prevent Atlantis from falling to the Wraith. Whether he died in the attempt had been immaterial at the time, but now he could pursue a larger and more personal goal.
The young queen was speaking with several gentlemen when Teyla brought him into the throne room. He waited as the conversation finished and remembered to bow to the queen, though it was mostly just his head and the motion felt stiff and uncomfortable. The lady did not seem disturbed by it. "How are you feeling, Highness?"
She was watching him with deliberate calm, and Ronon knew she noted the tension in him at the use of his title. "I am well. Thank you."
The queen waited for a beat before accepting that was all the answer she was to have. Thankfully, she got to the point. "You wished to speak to me?"
"I want to fight."
A couple of the noblemen looked at him in surprise. The dark haired man - the queen's betrothed, Ronon recalled - did not.
Queen Elizabeth leaned back in her chair. "I do not ask it of you. You did more than enough by delivering the warning."
He shook his head. "I don't want to fight for you." He drew in a breath. Words were difficult to find, and the formality of the setting was unnerving him. "It's... about justice."
The room was silent for a moment. With all eyes on him, Ronon remained motionless, looking at the queen, but his body was alert and straining against the instinct to lash out before someone else could. The queen glanced toward the others, and he could see the doubt in her face. He hardly blamed them for it. If he had been sent as a spy or saboteur, him getting into the fighting lines would be highly useful to the Wraith. An infiltrator could wreak havoc. An escaped slave, though, provided valuable help and information. He tried that tack.
"I know their tactics, defenses. You need me."
The queen and her betrothed exchanged a long, silent look. She then turned to Teyla and finally back to Ronon. "Very well. Lady Teyla will take you to the armory shortly. You will remain under guard until the fighting begins."
He nodded, not desiring to pick a fight when he'd gotten what he wanted.
The queen rose. She was tall for a woman, though still shorter than him. He could see fear in her eyes as she came closer to him, though not close enough to touch. The fear grated against his nerves but he swallowed. There was also respect in her gaze and that almost made him fidget more. "Without your warning, it is doubtful we would have known what was coming before the armada was at our door. We are in your debt, Ronon Dex. No matter what occurs, that shall not be forgotten."
He bowed uneasily and the queen tilted her head slightly in acknowledgment, and to his immense relief, the interview ended.
An hour later he arrived at the armory. The door was open, and the guard outside made no move to stop him as he entered. Teyla was waiting for him, but Ronon's eye was drawn to the small table, on which lay several scabbards. "My lord, the queen offers your choice among these. There are extra belts for them as well."
She leaned back, watching as he approached the table. He looked over the swords laid out but then his breath caught in his throat. His hand reached out automatically for the sword on the furthest end. It had a long grip, wrapped in leather, and a narrow cross guard that was marked on the ends. The blade was wide, but along the middle was a groove that ran most of the length of the blade, ending out near the point. The fuller lessened the weight of the steel without loss of strength. Unlike the other weapons on the table, this one was intended to be used with two hands rather than one. The pommel was a distinctive disc shape, the wide edge of the circle covered in copper.
There was no mistaking the handiwork. The sword was Satedan.
He looked up abruptly, remembering he was not alone, to find Teyla watching him closely.
This had been a test, he realized. Whether of his identity or his intentions, he did not know, nor was he certain who arranged it, though somehow he thought it was not Teyla. Her expression seemed to indicate he had passed, regardless.
She approached and looked more closely at the blade. "It will need sharpening. The queen said this has been stored here for some time. We can go to the blacksmith together."
He noticed then that she had a scabbard slung over her shoulder, and the way she held it told him it was not the first time. She wore a heavy leather vest and braces along her arms and legs, and in her boots he could see sheathed knives. "You intend to fight?" he blurted, incredulous. The woman barely came to his shoulder. The idea of her grappling with a Wraith seemed ridiculous. He could have crushed her throat with one hand.
Teyla's eyes narrowed and she drew the sword free with practiced ease. "I will fight for my country, my lord, and my home. Just as you would."
He gave no warning, just drew the sword and attacked, not thinking of the panic he might be causing, but she parried his move effectively and backed away, holding her weapon at ready. Someone shouted from the doorway, but Teyla did not remove her eyes from him. His lips drew back in a feral snarl as he closed in on her, or attempted to. She was quick as a fox and slippery as a fish. He would have easily overpowered her, if she would have stood still for a second. He growled without knowing it as she darted away yet again. He lunged after her, catching her blade. She pushed back, and since he was off balance was able to deflect the blow.
Distantly he was aware of the warm amusement in her eyes, matched by a battle fire he never expected to encounter in any woman, much less a fine lady of a court. She made the most of her advantages as they sparred, and he began to reconsider the idea of her battling an enemy as futile.
The fun ended a moment later, though. Their blades had just clashed again when a voice bellowed, "What in hell is going on here?"
Lord John stood in the doorway, his face like a thundercloud. The two guards were standing in the hall, gaping. Ronon had forgotten them entirely.
Teyla shook a stray lock of hair from her face. She was breathing deeply but her expression was serene. "Nothing, my lord. Prince Ronon expressed doubt that I could hold my own in battle."
The other man was glaring at Ronon so he subsided, sheathing the sword. Lord John shook his head. "Well, I imagine you have disabused him of that notion, my lady. Perhaps we should place you and your bantos rods between us and the Wraith and simply watch?"
Teyla swatted at him for that and Ronon felt his throat tighten for a moment. It was not Teyla herself that made jealousy stir in him, but the camaraderie between them. These two people were friends and allies, who shared a past and knew where they stood with each other. Ronon could not remember the last time he had held no fear of those around him, when he could speak honestly to another living soul without it being a risk.
"We should go," he snapped.
The other two looked at him for a moment. Teyla seemed to read something in his expression, for she nodded, but John held up a hand. "I thought you could use these," he said, offering something to Ronon.
It was a pair of leather gauntlets, with three buckles on each to adjust their fit. They looked new.
John grinned. "I'm not sure we can find full scale armor in your size, but it's a start."
Teyla smiled as well and for the first time in a very, very long time, Ronon felt the corners of his mouth turn up in response.
*~*~*~*
Carson had seen his share of blood, but even the attack on Hoff two years ago was a minor skirmish compared to what was about to happen. He would have been nervous in any case, but he wasn't sure he could manage to walk out and leave Laura now, trapped near the top of the tower and unable to move on her own while their home was under siege.
With Kate and Perna's help, she had moved to one of the rooms in the queen's suite that afternoon. She was pale and hadn't said much all day, and her obvious fear made it even harder. Her spirits had remained high since the morning sickness had left her, and to see her so subdued made his throat close over. He'd thought she would never look as beautiful as she had the day of their wedding, but watching as her body changed and her belly swelled with their child had taught him the foolishness of his romanticism. Laura complained about her swollen ankles and the other alterations, but Carson only marked them as evidence of the miracle that was happening within her.
Many more nights than she realized, he had lain awake with his hand against her belly, feeling the baby moving within her. The wonder of it never ceased to amaze him. It was difficult to believe that just a few short days ago, his only concern had been keeping Laura safe during the delivery. Now his fears had multiplied many times over.
He went through the motions of eating, certain that Laura had only taken a few spoonfuls of broth for her supper, which he'd insisted she eat before he left. His wife had countered that she would only eat if he did. Carson managed to worry down a few crackers, but finally he gave up the farce of this being a normal evening meal.
Perna removed the tray from Laura's bed and stepped outside. The door closed over behind her, and in the privacy, Carson sat down on the edge of the bed. Laura struggled to sit upright as much as she could. He cupped her cheek and leaned in and kissed her. The angle was awkward, but the kiss grew frantic anyway. When he drew away, he tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear. "I love you, Laura," he said lowly.
"I love you," she said, her hands holding his shoulders tightly. "Promise me you will be careful."
Some of the cavernous storerooms at the base of the towers had been converted to an infirmary, prepared to receive the wounded. Carson was relieved that Master Hermiod had come with the other Asgard to aid them, and the healers and nurses were all capable. But by necessity they would be near the fighting, and if the defenses were overrun, there would not be many places to go that were safe.
It was ironic, he thought, that his only thoughts were of her safety up here, while hers were entirely about his downstairs.
"I will," he promised her. "We'll be off out of the way enough. I'll be all right."
She nodded, one hand rubbing her belly absently. "So will we."
Carson laid his hand alongside hers, his heart beating harder. He did not want to go. For the first time in his professional life, he honestly considered abdicating his oath as a physician. But that was not the father he wanted for this child. Instead, he bent his head and whispered, "I love you too, little one."
Laura's eyes glistened with tears as he kissed her again before rising from the bed. He tucked her in, making sure her pillows were arranged comfortably, and she squeezed his hand before he stepped away. "I'll see you in a few hours, love."
She made a wry face. "Well, we'll be here."
He managed to call up a small smile for her, and then hurried out the door, before his resolve could fail.
*~*~*~*
Adjacent to Elizabeth's sitting room was the room where once their governess had slept. It had stood empty for some time now, but now Laura was settled there for the time being. Perna had not looked happy about moving Laura, but Marcus had insisted that the royal chambers would be easier to defend if the fighting came into the palace. It was something Kate was trying not to dwell upon.
Elizabeth and the midwife were with Laura now in the room, which had not been given adequate time to air out and thus was already somewhat uncomfortable. Lady Sarah would be there soon as well. Kate was pacing aimlessly in the sitting room, knowing that before long she would be cloistered in the bedchamber with the others. She could only pray that they would all survive the night.
The door to the corridor opened. Kate did not have to look to know who had entered. "Kate?" Marcus said when he had shut the door behind himself.
"All is quiet," she replied. "What brings you here?"
"Most of the guards are with the army," he said. "I will be down the corridor. I know that when the Ori struck, the captain of the guard fought with the troops, but I cannot leave the queen."
"When the Ori struck, the king was fighting too," Kate reminded him.
Marcus crossed the room to the window where she stood. For a long, heavy moment she watched him wrestle with something, and then he reached for her hand. After all the times recently when something had started between them and then not finished, Kate was almost surprised when his fingers wrapped around hers. His skin was so warm. "Kate," he said, his voice rough, "if the worst happens, there is a way out. Directly down the back stairs, all the way to the bottom. There is a corridor that ends in that little grotto in the cliff. You remember. Two of my men are down there now with a boat that can carry you to the mainland."
Kate had been down there before, but she was too alarmed to tell him that. "Marcus, you can't expect me to..."
"Kate, I will defend you all with my life," he interrupted. His free hand cupped her cheek. In any other circumstance she might have blushed, but her heart was racing now from fear. "But if I die, I need you to take the queen away from here."
"And abandon Laura and the others?" she shot back without thinking. "You cannot be serious. You cannot expect me to-"
"You will be the last defense," he almost growled. "I love Laura as though she were my sister, but Elizabeth is our sovereign, and she has no heir. I must think of her safety first, much as it pains me to think of such a sacrifice. It is for Atalan, and I dare say that Laura would tell you the same thing." His hands fell away from her, and his voice softened. "Please, Kate."
Her throat was too tight for her to trust her voice. Instead, she merely nodded.
She expected him to go then, but instead he moved even closer. "There is something else I would say to you."
"What?" she whispered.
He moved as though to touch her again, but his hands dropped back to his sides. "I'm so sorry," he said. "I need you to know why I waited so long to tell you that I loved you."
Kate bit her lip to keep it from trembling. She did not want to think of why he would choose such a moment to tell her this.
Marcus took several deep breaths, seeming to steady himself, and he looked outside, where the afternoon's drizzle was just beginning to clear. "I was in love with a woman once before," he said. "A noblewoman. She said she loved me, but the moment I was out of her bed, she was promising herself to another, a man of rank and wealth. I was nothing more than a plaything to her."
Kate swallowed hard. She had known his reputation for some time, but hearing him say it for himself was another matter. Still, she forced herself to think beyond his indiscretions, for they were not the heart of this story.
"This lady did you a great injustice, I think," she murmured.
"Believe me when I say that you are a hundred times better than her," he replied. "But when we only saw each other in secret, when you told me why you could not marry me... I was never good enough for her. And I was not good enough for you."
"Marcus," Kate protested, thinking he meant the difference in their rank, "that's not true." But his next words showed he was thinking of something else.
"It is. I should have known you were above such mercenary behavior. I knew that you would not be so capricious, but I let my pride and my hurt control me. I didn't trust you-"
"I gave you no reason to trust me," she interrupted, thinking of her impatience with him over Lord Aaron. For a moment she bit her lip again, but then she forged ahead. There was no sense in holding back now. "I was afraid, Marcus. For some time now I have been determined not to marry a man who would seek to use me for his own designs, or try to control me. Then in Iolan..."
She did not know what else to say, and the pain on Marcus' face was almost too much to bear. "I know," he said gently, his fingers brushing her hair away from her face.
Kate shook her head. "I should have told you. Done something to reassure you. I don't know."
That much at least was true, even though he shared the blame for their fight. She could not reconcile her feelings in her own heart, let alone express them. But Marcus did not press her for anything further. Instead, he nodded. "There is one other woman I feel I should tell you of, for she is your friend," he said slowly. When she frowned in confusion, he mumbled, "Teyla."
That startled her, though a moment later she realized this explained a great deal about how the two interacted occasionally. Marcus took her silence as disapproval and quickly added, "It was a long time ago. When her father died, we drifted apart. And - and it was not long before I could think of none but you."
He leaned even closer and Kate could not breathe. Then, as though he could not help himself, he closed the distance and his lips brushed against hers. She was frozen for a moment, even though she should have expected this. His fingers slid into her hair and she ran her hands up his arms to rest on his shoulders. When she did not push him away, he quickly coaxed her lips to part, and before long the kiss was deep and hungry and desperate. He explored her mouth greedily, like he was remembering and rediscovering all at once. Kate clung to him fiercely, hands clutching his collar as her own memories collided with the present. She had forgotten so much, yet his smell, his touch, his taste were all still firmly fixed in her mind.
They had kissed many times before, but there was something different about this time, something Kate could not discern until Marcus had drawn away and met her eyes once more.
This time, it was goodbye.
The realization made her tremble. "Kate, please," he whispered. "Do not doubt that I loved you, more deeply than I could ever express."
She could not speak, but neither did he wait for her reply. Without another word, he walked out of the room, his back stiff as though he was forcing himself to leave.
For her part, Kate watched him go, and then she turned to the window and wept, knowing there was nothing left for her to do but pray that this was not the end.