Elizabeth’s Gift, Gen, K+
This is the fic that I almost posted for Atlantis_lvw challenge #3: Gifts (<600 words), but I just didn't think it worked, so I wrote something else.
I just thought I'd post it here for opinions and discussion. I actually like a lot of the analogies, but I was having a lot of trouble with Sheppard and the ending just never felt right. Sort of contrite or something. Hee! I know it's not great when rinkle has the same feeling about it. (Bless her little heart!) So, feel free to comment freely on this one. Maybe one day I can fix it up.
Shep meta very welcome. How does his relationship with Elizabeth (I don't mean romantic here) function? I had a really long discussion about this with yokiem and made up my mind, but had no way to put it into words.
Oh, also, I have a feeling I was still switching tenses (even after a couple of drafts), so if you see it, point it out.
Elizabeth’s Gift, Gen, K+
Elizabeth has always had a gift for language.
She can wield her words with the sharpness of a knife or the smooth caress of silk. She can use them to hurt or to appease, and she has always found enjoyment in discovering which is appropriate to get what she desires.
What few people know is that she hides behind her words, protecting herself with them. She wrapped herself up in an impenetrable shield of vocabulary behind which she believed nothing could touch her.
Nothing, that is, until she came to Atlantis.
Now, as she sat across from Sheppard and his team, she realised how wrong she had been.
Rodney speaks his every thought in a flood of words. They ripple out from him until they build in a wave that can sweep her feet from under her, crashing over her own words as they break down her barriers and wash them clean away. Rodney’s hands sweep and sway and dance with his words, focused yet scattered. It is a constant barrage of strikes from different angles, here and there in a random pattern that only a genius could understand.
She thinks, with fondness, that Rodney doesn’t even realise he has breached her defences.
Her words flow off John as water beads off wax. John’s decisions are based on facts, military training and a moral code that is his own. He easily deflects both argument and platitude, while his relaxed attitude and charm act as his own personal shield. Elizabeth depends on him to do those things that she cannot, and in doing so, he somehow crept under her defences with such stealth that she had barely registered it happening.
Ronon is a mystery that even Elizabeth’s skills can’t seem to crack. Rather than attempting to deflect her words as the others do, he seems to soak them up and take them somewhere deep within. She sometimes imagined she could see her own words churning deep within his brown eyes, as he turns them around in his mind and finally reaches an understanding.
He strips her words down to their barest meaning and she has found that his quietly spoken truths can pierce her armour more surely than any bullet, taking her breath away with their simplicity.
Teyla had been thrust into the responsibilities of a leader and she had moulded herself into the role, not because it was something she desired, but because it was what her people needed her to be. While Elizabeth has met many silver-tongued diplomats in her time, she can see that Teyla is different.
She has learnt to wield her words in a world where one wrong move could cause her people starvation, hardship, or strife. Teyla is careful with her words. She never uses them to inflict harm or pain, though it is obvious that she could. She chooses instead to use her words as a mother might to bring an unruly child into line. She gently praises or scolds, always ready to teach, learn and forgive.
Elizabeth now understands that Teyla was never fooled by her defences. She has worn away at Elizabeth’s armour with the patience of a stream wearing down a rockbed, gently stripping away each layer to reveal truth.
John, Rodney, Teyla and Ronon have all slipped past the shield that Elizabeth had so carefully built. They are impervious to her armoury, stocked as it is with word play, discussion and debate.
Yet, because of this, she can find but one word to describe these four people.
She calls them - friend.
And this is their gift.
I just thought I'd post it here for opinions and discussion. I actually like a lot of the analogies, but I was having a lot of trouble with Sheppard and the ending just never felt right. Sort of contrite or something. Hee! I know it's not great when rinkle has the same feeling about it. (Bless her little heart!) So, feel free to comment freely on this one. Maybe one day I can fix it up.
Shep meta very welcome. How does his relationship with Elizabeth (I don't mean romantic here) function? I had a really long discussion about this with yokiem and made up my mind, but had no way to put it into words.
Oh, also, I have a feeling I was still switching tenses (even after a couple of drafts), so if you see it, point it out.
Elizabeth’s Gift, Gen, K+
Elizabeth has always had a gift for language.
She can wield her words with the sharpness of a knife or the smooth caress of silk. She can use them to hurt or to appease, and she has always found enjoyment in discovering which is appropriate to get what she desires.
What few people know is that she hides behind her words, protecting herself with them. She wrapped herself up in an impenetrable shield of vocabulary behind which she believed nothing could touch her.
Nothing, that is, until she came to Atlantis.
Now, as she sat across from Sheppard and his team, she realised how wrong she had been.
Rodney speaks his every thought in a flood of words. They ripple out from him until they build in a wave that can sweep her feet from under her, crashing over her own words as they break down her barriers and wash them clean away. Rodney’s hands sweep and sway and dance with his words, focused yet scattered. It is a constant barrage of strikes from different angles, here and there in a random pattern that only a genius could understand.
She thinks, with fondness, that Rodney doesn’t even realise he has breached her defences.
Her words flow off John as water beads off wax. John’s decisions are based on facts, military training and a moral code that is his own. He easily deflects both argument and platitude, while his relaxed attitude and charm act as his own personal shield. Elizabeth depends on him to do those things that she cannot, and in doing so, he somehow crept under her defences with such stealth that she had barely registered it happening.
Ronon is a mystery that even Elizabeth’s skills can’t seem to crack. Rather than attempting to deflect her words as the others do, he seems to soak them up and take them somewhere deep within. She sometimes imagined she could see her own words churning deep within his brown eyes, as he turns them around in his mind and finally reaches an understanding.
He strips her words down to their barest meaning and she has found that his quietly spoken truths can pierce her armour more surely than any bullet, taking her breath away with their simplicity.
Teyla had been thrust into the responsibilities of a leader and she had moulded herself into the role, not because it was something she desired, but because it was what her people needed her to be. While Elizabeth has met many silver-tongued diplomats in her time, she can see that Teyla is different.
She has learnt to wield her words in a world where one wrong move could cause her people starvation, hardship, or strife. Teyla is careful with her words. She never uses them to inflict harm or pain, though it is obvious that she could. She chooses instead to use her words as a mother might to bring an unruly child into line. She gently praises or scolds, always ready to teach, learn and forgive.
Elizabeth now understands that Teyla was never fooled by her defences. She has worn away at Elizabeth’s armour with the patience of a stream wearing down a rockbed, gently stripping away each layer to reveal truth.
John, Rodney, Teyla and Ronon have all slipped past the shield that Elizabeth had so carefully built. They are impervious to her armoury, stocked as it is with word play, discussion and debate.
Yet, because of this, she can find but one word to describe these four people.
She calls them - friend.
And this is their gift.