fic: "To Serve A Queen" - Part Twelve

[tielan]

TITLE: To Serve A Queen - Part Twelve
SUMMARY: It was almost service. Not quite, but almost. It would have to be enough.
PAIRING: Liz/Ronan
RATING: R
NOTES: Some cross-show crack references in this one. Okay, modification. I'll post every couple of days, could be two, could be three. But I have things on the go all over the place, so it'll be sporadic. Yeesh. And I'm not looking forwards to trying to post this up on the net.

Part Eleven

To Serve A Queen - Part Twelve

Ronan arrived in the foyer in time to hear Tyrus' accusation, but not soon enough to be ushered into the stateroom.

Not that they'd have invited him in.

Out in the training yards, the males were milling about, talking in their groups. He paused and was beckoned over to where Lorne and a handful of other men were talking. "Dex. Heard Tyrus' accusation this morning?"

Ronan doubted there were too many people who hadn't. "It was hard to miss."

"Bastard made sure enough people heard it," said another Warlord grimly. "There's going to be trouble over it."

Lorne shrugged. "They're Gennii, Bates. They're always trouble."

"Everything's trouble according to you," another man said. "You thought Teyla was trouble when she arrived and she was First Circle within six months."

"That's Lady Elizabeth's choice," Bates said. The tightness in his expression and the set of his jaw showed clearly that he hadn't changed his mind. "Not mine."

"I don't think the Lady's regretted it," said Lorne lightly. "Anyway, we're not talking about Teyla. Ford's going to have some tough times ahead of him after this. An accusation of rape - even if Lady Sora later denied it - doesn't sit easy on a man."

The Warlord called Bates frowned. "The girl should have defended him the instant her father made the accusation. If it was false--"

Someone else shook his head. "You know how Gennii Territory works, Bates? The girl's been kept under the heel of the male council all her life. She wouldn't know spirit if it bit her in the neck."

Ronan frowned.

"Easy, Markham," said Lorne with a quick glance at Ronan. "Dex is thinking about taking service with Lady Sora."

A touch of fear entered Markham's eyes. "My statement wasn't meant unkindly, Prince Dex."

"Then how was it meant?"

The males all looked uncomfortable by varying degrees, but it was Lorne who answered. "Sora's young, Prince, and she's lived in Gennii Territory all her life. They interpret Law and Protocol differently there."

"I've heard that."

"Gennii Territory hasn't had a Queen in over ten years," Markham said. "The male council rules it and we hear stories."

"Witches broken before they can become a danger. Males left without the protection of the women they serve." Lorne met his gaze. "Lady Elizabeth believes things will change when Sora takes up her court."

Ronan studied the other man, then looked at the faces around the circle. "You don't."

"She left Ford to fend for himself this morning," Bates said with a dark twist of the lip. "The Lady would have been in there denying it the moment the word left her father's lips."

"Lady Elizabeth is Atlantis-bred," said Markham. "Lady Sora isn't."

"There's only one Atlantis," Ronan said with dry irony. His conversation with Elizabeth the night of the dance rang in his head - along with her hesitations over Gennii Territory.

"And only ever will be," Bates said firmly. "If you'll excuse me, it looks like Caldwell's going to be caught up in the meeting for a while. I'll start some of the boys in their limbering exercises."

He bowed, swift and brief, and walked away from the group. Markham followed him, and another man who hadn't said a word all conversation.

Lorne stayed.

"You're not going to train?"

"I think I can skip a day and not be the worse for it." The Warlord shrugged. "And Bates is biased. He's only ever served in Atlantis - as have most of the First and Second Circles."

"You've served outside Atlantis."

"I have." Lorne glanced at him, and the blue gaze was easy and honest. "There are other Territories in this part of the Realm that keep the old ways, not just Atlantis. Cheyanne and Moiya keep to the Protocols - Korbal, too. But Korbal is presently ruled by a Black Widow Queen and it's rumoured that she's dying. No chosen successor but several candidates and a lot of unrest."

"Which did you come from?"

"Cheyanne. Lady Samantha's got a solid court around her."

"The Circle you served in?"

"Only Fifth. But good service. A good Queen." There was honest admiration in Lorne's voice.

"Why leave it?"

Lorne smiled. "My contract came free and I wanted to see another Territory."

The Warlord seemed pleased with the service he'd found here. A Second Circle guard was an improvement on a Fifth Circle anything. Assuming the Queens were good ones to serve.

"Would you reference me?"

"To the Steward of Cheyanne court?" Lorne asked. "Yes. Once you're there, you'd have to make do on your own merit. Not that you lack it." There was some friendly envy in Lorne's voice, but no resentment. The Warlord had the service he wanted and he was happy. "Cheyanne's a good Territory."

"Unlike Gennii." Ronan watched Lorne hesitate. "You don't need to answer that."

"If you know it, why are you going to serve her?"

Ronan looked back at the house with its dark red brick and sandstone balustrade. "I haven't yet said I will."

--

He hadn't said he would, but he hadn't said he wouldn't, either. Not to himself, not to anyone else.

Ronan watched Sora polishing the handle of the bladed stick. She worked with an intensity that was almost obsessive, as though she could block out the morning's unpleasant scene.

He wasn't about to let her. Not after the talk among the males this morning at cancelled training. Not after the sullen quiet that hung about the estate today. Not after the wary look Ford gave the girl at lunchtime.

"Your father's still angry?"

"He'll get over it," Sora said. "He always does."

"So you've had your Virgin Night before?" Ronan asked dryly.

Sora looked up, wide-eyed. "No! I meant..." Then she saw his expression. A blush inflamed her cheeks and she glared at him. "You shouldn't make fun of a Queen."

"No," he agreed. "You should have stood up when he accused Ford of rape."

She shrugged. "It was untrue anyway."

"Most people didn't know that." Not everyone had known that the young Warlord had been asked to take Sora through her Virgin Night, and not everyone had been convinced by Sora's quiet answer.

"I wouldn't have been standing anywhere near him if it was," she said, and there was a sullen note in his voice.

"People don't think that way."

"Well, it's done now," said Sora, putting the weapon aside with a scowl. "Father's anger will die down in a day or two. He usually sulks, but nothing comes of it."

It would have been nice to be so sanguine about Tyrus. The Gennii Warlord wasn't just unhappy with his daughter's rebellion - he was furious at it.

Ronan didn't trust Tyrus' anger over Sora's Virgin Night. It was one thing for a father to be angry that she hadn't informed him. It was another to harp on about obedience and the proper way of having a Virgin Night. Ronan figured the proper way to have a Virgin Night was make sure the witch came out unbroken and untraumatised.

Both seemed to apply to Sora now.

Ronan was also tempted to point out that the issue wasn't her father, it was her willingness to defend a Blood male who'd served her. It ws about being a Queen and ruling the males around her. If she was going to be the Queen she needed to be in Gennii Territory, she would have to learn about reining in her father. A Queen took advice, not orders.

"And the others?"

She shrugged. "The others will fume, but they'll take their cues from Father."

"And if they don't?"

"I don't want to upset things right now," Sora said. She seemed resentful at his questions. "Look, after tonight, I'll have made the Offering. I'll be stronger than anyone else in Gennii Territory other than Prince Kolya. Then things will change."

Ronan swallowed his retort. If she wasn't willing to stand up to her father while wearing the Purple Dusk, she wasn't likely to stand up to her father when she wore the Sapphire, either. Patterns were hard to break - Ronan had learned that in Belka.

Well, she was young. She'd learn.

She'd have to learn.

Sora was looking at him now, her eyes large and dark and startling in the porcelain of her face. "When I take up my duties as the Queen of Gennii Territory, I'll be looking for males to serve in my First Circle. Prince Dex..." She paused, suddenly showing her youth and inexperience, then blurted, "Would you consider service in my court?"

Ronan noted that she hadn't asked the more formal question of the acceptance ceremony: Will you serve?

"I'd consider it," he said, keeping his voice light.

She nodded, accepting his answer.

It was enough - at least for the moment.

--

He closed the sitting-room door behind him, set his shoulders against the wood and grimaced.

The corridor was empty, for which he was grateful - he didn't need a nosy servant coming by and looking askance at him. The servants here were much more forward than in Belka Territory. They knew their duties and responsibilities and were unwilling to cede one inch, even if they were servants in a household.

They'd think nothing of inquiring after him, or reporting him to someone. He didn't know what they'd report him for, but still...

Ronan had questions to ask himself - and answers to seek. And he needed to think through them carefully, because the next few years would hinge on his answers.

Why had he hesitated when Sora asked his service?

It was the offer he'd been waiting for - the offer of service in the court of a Queen who wouldn't treat him as chattel.

Males were called to serve, and after seven years in slavery, Ronan wanted a Queen he could serve wholeheartedly. He'd hoped that Sora of the Gennii might be that Queen - until this morning, he'd thought she could be.

But she'd hesitated to defend Ford.

No, she hadn't let the accusation stand, but she hadn't been that fast to step in to protect the male who'd done her the service of seeing her safely through her Virgin Night. Ronan had seen enough courts where the Blood males had no certainty that their Queen would protect them. He didn't want to be one of those males, serving in bitterness and harrowing nervousness.

I will serve with honour or not at all.

"Prince Dex?"

She had a talent for finding him when he was disturbed or in distress. If it had been any other woman, he might have supposed she was attuned to him, sensitive to his moods. With Elizabeth Weir, it was purely wishful thinking.

"Lady Elizabeth," he said, bowing. "How may I serve?" He hadn't meant to phrase it that way, and winced when she froze.

It took her a moment to regain her self-possession, but when she spoke, her voice was crisp and clear, if pitched low so it wouldn't carry.

"May I speak with you in private?"

Ronan wished his body wasn't so good at casting up possible reasons why she might want to be alone with him. His mind was a lot more controlled and a lot less hopeful.

It was also right.

She led them to a small sitting room and turned as he closed the door behind him. "Please, shield it."

He did so, and turned to face her as she sat down in one of the armchairs. "I'm guessing you don't want the others to hear."

"I did say I wished to speak with you in private," she said tartly. "Prince Dex, I realise that you're not a member of this court, but I need something of you." Her hands were sitting very still in her lap - too tense and still.

Not something that she wanted to ask of him, then. "What?" He didn't bother with the courtesies, his pride pricked, his temper thin. She had the right to ask a favour of him - she'd given him his freedom - but he couldn't help resenting the line she was drawing between them. Ronan owed her, but didn't serve her, and she would acknowledge the debt between them, but not his hunger for a strong Queen to serve.

Your hunger for her led to this situation, he reminded himself. You lost control in the gardens, too intent on making your point.

His body remembered that loss of control with far too much satisfaction: the soft, glazed look in her eyes as he teased her body. He yanked back the seduction tendrils that his body automatically produced at the memory. No. Not again.

Ronan forced himself to look at her, to meet her gaze.

She reached behind and pulled a cushion out from behind her, easing herself more comfortably into the chair. "I need you to keep an eye on the court tonight. Both courts - Gennii and Atlantis."

"I don't serve you." The words came out more brusquely than he intended. "And you've got Sheppard and Caldwell..."

"You're stronger than they are," she told him, holding his gaze. Her eyes were earnest green and quietly resolute. "I need someone to hold them back - just in case they do anything stupid."

"You think they will?"

Her lips twisted. "They're Warlord Princes. It's hard to tell."

"What makes you think I'd hold them back?"

"You've got a vested interest in making sure that the ties between Atlantis and Gennii Territories hold firm." Elizabeth looked him in the eye. "Nobody wants another Territory war."

Another Territory war...

The air burned his lungs like fire. His voice was hoarse when he spoke again. "You strike below the belt, Lady."

"I have to," she said, and her voice was gentle. "Caldwell mentioned you'd been in a war. Belka Territory is known for casting an eye towards other Territories with small skirmishes, but the last war among the Blood was in Sateda Territory."

Ronan turned away from her, staring out the window.

He didn't see the inner courtyard with its paved stones and potted bushes. Instead he saw a city, razed and burning, while men and women fought the chains that bound them. He felt the blow that knocked him out - too strong to be subdued by anything less than the Grey - and waking up with Ring of Obedience around his cock, an unending pain in his balls. He sensed the emptiness of the land: the bitterness that happened when the Blood were taken from the land they loved.

He could feel Elizabeth waiting. Watching him. Finally she spoke. "I don't know what happened in Sateda, Ronan - not the details - but we know the results. Sateda's a dead Territory."

Pain clutched at his heart, making him sharp. "What does that have to do with Atlantis Territory now?"

"I don't want a war in Atlantis!" The words were soft yet fierce; she spoke with a passion that jarred his soul. "And if you're going to serve Sora, you won't want Gennii Territory to be at war either."

"You sound very sure that you're headed towards a war."

She made a soft, despairing snort. "You don't know John," she said. "He could make an enemy out of our closest ally." Affection and exasperation mingled: she was the Queen, but even the most loyal Warlord Princes could be a law unto themselves.

Ronan had good cause to know that.

"And yet you keep him around." He knew that comment was too much, even as he spoke.

The green of her glare was lethal. "Don't get sassy, Prince."

He retained enough composure to retort, "I haven't been 'getting' sassy, Lady."

Her lips curved in rueful amusement. "No," she admitted, "you haven't." The smile faded a moment later. "I just need someone to keep an eye on John in case he goes too far."

"And if he rises to the killing edge?" His Red Jewel was one rank darker than Sheppard's Sapphire, but it would only just contain Sheppard if something happened to snap the other man.

"Then call Teyla or myself," she replied.

"And if I rise to the killing edge?"

"Then we're in trouble," said Elizabeth dryly. She sighed and played with the fringed edge of a cushion. "Prince, the reason I asked for your help was because you aren't a member of my court. I need someone who isn't biased one way or the other."

He hadn't intended to tell her, but he wasn't unbiased in the end. "I accepted service with Sora." Except that he hadn't. Sora hadn't formally offered it, and he hadn't formally accepted. But she had to know. Or so he told himself.

Elizabeth's fingers paused in the silk fringes of the cushion. "Congratulations." She sounded sincere in her approval, but that was all.

Ronan felt angry at the lack of anything more. It was irrational and unreasonable, but her reaction infuriated him. It didn't matter to her whether he bound his service to Sora or not, and he knew it didn't matter to her. It scraped his nerves raw. He wanted to mean something to her, to be something other than a useful commodity to this Queen.

He'd been a commodity to the Queens in Belka Territory, too.

Unbidden the memory of the ride from Belka to Atlantis surfaced. He'd watched her with the males of her court, the way she touched them, the way they reacted to her: male strength nurtured by female strength, bound by trust. And he'd wanted what they had from her - and more.

He still did.

Mother Night and the Darkness be merciful, but he still wanted to serve in Elizabeth's court. Sora's court would be an interim measure, a duty to a young Queen, but it wouldn't be the same. Ronan would be remembering this court and the woman who ruled it for a long time to come.

Then Elizabeth looked up. Her gaze steadied him, even in his bitterness. "I don't need to explain to you that this is in the interests of both Atlantis and Gennii Territories."

"And you don't want to be at war," he said. No, she didn't have to explain. "I'll do what I can," he said. "But I make no promises."

"Doing what you can is enough," she told him, rising. "Thank you, Prince."

It was almost service. Not quite, but almost.

It would have to be enough.

--

to Part Thirteen