To Serve A Queen - Part Ten - DVD commentary

[tielan]

TITLE: To Serve A Queen - Part Ten - DVD commentary
SUMMARY: He allowed himself a moment's regret that he wouldn't be staying in the court. He would have enjoyed the give-and-take among the Blood of this court, familiar with each other, and yet inclusive of the stranger their Queen had brought home.
PAIRING: Liz/Ronan
RATING: R
NOTES: I wanted some interaction between Ronon and the court - this was it.

To Serve A Queen - Part Ten - DVD commentary

Ronan watched McKay and the Black Widow as they moved about the workroom, exchanging comments as they worked on their respective spells.

He admired the Widow's patience with the Green-Jewelled Prince: McKay wasn't an easy man to work with. The Prince was passionate about his spells, slightly temperamental, and more than a little obsessive about the workroom. The Black Widow watched him with amusement and exasperation.

It seemed to be a common expression on the faces of the Atlantis witches when it came to the males they lived and worked beside. Ronan had seen it on more than one female face in the last couple of days.

There was a soft 'poof' and a white cloud of powder rose up from the bowl and covered itself and the immediate area with dust.

McKay began swearing.

Teyla leaned her hands on the bench, "That is the fourth time today. Are you sure that there is not something else that is tainting the spell?"

"Of course I'm sure!" McKay snapped.

[Rodney's obliviousness is always enjoyable to write, in all the AUs. I don't like him so much in the show, he's getting a bit repetitive by the end of S2.]

This morning had been unproductive for the two spellmakers, but very productive from Ronan's point of view.

Ronan had learned not to flinch when the Prince said or did something that, in Belka, would have gained him a jolt through the Ring or a beating. He'd learned not to flinch when the Black Widow spoke sharply, or betrayed her temper. He'd learned that a male could snap back without fear of reprisal, and that sometimes a witch would stare, then smile, then accept his words.

Through their interactions, he'd learned a lot about what was acceptable and unacceptable in the ebb and flow of male-female relationships in Atlantis.

And that Atlantis court was a court he would have liked to serve in.

Then again, he'd already known that.

[Just not for the reasons that he'd already known it. This time, it's about the court, not about the Queen.]

"I do not know what is the trouble," Teyla said. "You have done everything that the recipe called for."

"But it's not working."

"That is evident."

"Why not?"

"If I knew that then I would be giving you the solution," Teyla said with a trace of sly humour. "Prince Dex, you have been watching us all morning. Do you have anything to add to this?"

He looked at them from his seat on the couch. After following their work, he was pretty sure that McKay had been doing everything correctly. Which only left one reason for why the spell wasn't working. "He won't like it."

"I won't like-- Why not? If you're not going to add anything helpful--"

"Rodney."

"No, I don't see why I wouldn't like what he has to say."

"Perhaps you should hear it first?" The wryness of her words was lost on McKay.

"That wouldn't make a difference--"

Ronan interrupted. "It's because you're male."

[The inherent division between male and female is very emphatic in the book series. Some areas are specifically for females, others are specifically for males. On one hand, it can be limiting and seems rather rigid: there don't appear to be any half measures; on the other hand, we don't ever see anyone who really wants to buck the system. Surreal might come the closest, and she's free to do so because she has no caste - she's just a Jewelled witch.]

Silence.

The kind of silence that portended a storm, when the earth shivered in wait, and the animals went to ground.

McKay's mouth opened and shut, but no sound came out. Teyla glanced from him to Ronan, her amusement plain. And Ronan watched them both.

When it seemed McKay wasn't going to manage more than spluttering, Teyla looked at Ronan, thoughtfully, rather than with anger. "You believe the spell is gender-specific?"

"It might be."

McKay was still fuming. "How can anything be gender-specific? Why would you create a spell that males couldn't complete?"

"Why are there only female Priestesses and Healers?" Teyla countered. "Why are there no natural male Black Widows?"

The Prince muttered something.

"I did not hear that, Rodney."

McKay glared at her. "I said it's because the female of the species is more deadly than the male."

Ronan stared at Rodney, wondering if the man had a death-wish. But Teyla only threw back her head and laughed.

"It wasn't that funny," said the Prince crossly. He folded his arms over his chest and scowled at the laughing witch, who subsided after a few seconds, then sighed and shook her head at him with undisguised affection.

"Rodney, it is a very good thing that you were born in Atlantis. You would not have lasted long with any other Queen."

"Well, I don't know about that," McKay countered, evidently still out of sorts. "Samantha of Cheyanne Territory liked me."

[Rodney and his selective memory.]

"In the 'I'd really like to kill him,' sense," said Sheppard from just inside the door. He and the young Warlord - Ford, if Ronan remembered correctly - appeared to have arrived while Teyla was laughing, and neither Rodney nor Ronan had noticed.

"That's not true!"

"What was it she said? That she'd rather kiss a Wraith than you?" Sheppard was grinning. "That doesn't sound like love to me."

McKay scowled. "Did you come here for any particular reason, or just to mock me?"

Sheppard just smirked. "Anyway, Rodney," he said, "we're actually here because Ford needs your advice." He glanced at Ronan and although his manner became slightly more formal, he was polite. "Yours, too, if you're able to help."

He allowed himself a moment's regret that he wouldn't be staying in the court. He would have enjoyed the give-and-take among the Blood of this court, familiar with each other, and yet inclusive of the stranger their Queen had brought home.

"My advice?" McKay looked gratified.

The young man nodded. "Sora's asked for me to see her through her Virgin Night."

Ronan stared. So did McKay.

"She did?" McKay asked in blatant astonishment. "Why?" At Sheppard's glare, he added, "I mean, how nice for you."

"Thanks, McKay," Ford said with more than a little dryness before he appealed to Teyla. "I... I've never done this before."

Teyla's head tilted, mischievously. "You have never had sex before?"

McKay barked with laughter. Ford glared at the Prince as Sheppard and the Black Widow exchanged looks of amusement.

She gave the young warrior a smile. "Aiden, you will do fine."

"Which is what I keep telling him," said Sheppard with marked encouragement.

"It would be more encouraging if you'd ever seen a witch through her Virgin Night before," Ford muttered.

Ronan watched as Sheppard poked Ford in the shoulder, unabashedly familiar with the young warrior. "I know the theory."

"Doesn't everyone?" McKay asked. He bent back over his text again and scowled at the spell that hadn't worked for him.

"There's a lot of difference between theory and practise," Ronan observed dryly.

"Sora asked for you," said Teyla gently. "She would not have done so if she did not implicitly trust you."

"Just don't, you know, lose your head and forget why you're there," said McKay, still apparently involved in his text. "That never goes down well..."

[I think the comment I originally had in mind was a little more blunt on Rodney's part, I wasn't sure if I should reference the rape at this point or leave it until later.]

There was a silence during which the three other males in the room looked disbelievingly at the Prince.

"McKay, I can't believe you just said that."

McKay looked up, a bewildered expression on his face. "Why, what else was I supposed to say?"

In answer, Teyla handed him a damp cloth. "Please clean up your spell, Rodney."

"What? What did I say?"

"Enough," Sheppard said shortly with a glance at Teyla as she turned away to her cupboards and began looking through her supplies.

"More than enough," Aiden added, more quietly.

And McKay stood there, his mouth opening and shutting, trying to work out what he'd done wrong. He wasn't the only one. Ronan was intrigued by the tense undercurrent that had sprung up during the conversation - intrigued by it and wary of it.

"Clean up the spell remnants, Rodney," John said, pointing at the bench. "It's not nice to leave a witch's workbench in a mess after you asked her help with a spell. You wouldn't let someone else leave your workbench in a mess."

McKay glared at Sheppard, but cleaned up the mess, grumbling all the time.

Ronan watched Sheppard watch Teyla, wondering why the other man seemed so tense.

He understood a part of it when the Black Widow turned back from her cupboard and looked to Ford. She seemed calm, but at the same time, fragile. That image was dispelled immediately as she asked, "Will you require a contraceptive brew?"

The young man blinked. So did all the males in the room.

"I never thought--" The young warrior was dark-skinned so the embarassment wasn't as visible as it might have been on another man, but his expression made up for the lack. "Yes."

She nodded. Something in her posture eased - and with it, the mood of the room. "Come back before sunset and I will have some brewed for you. In the meantime, if you are to instruct Aiden in the correct way to proceed with a Virgin Night, take the discussion out of my workroom." Her pointed look took in all the males, and after a glance from Sheppard, Ford began moving out.

"Thanks, Teyla."

"You're welcome, Aiden," she said. "Sora has chosen well."

The young man smiled and practically strutted out the door. Sheppard caught McKay's eye and jerked his head at the door. "You're the one with the experience."

"Oh, fine then," McKay grumbled. "The spell wasn't working anyway." He stumped after Ford.

Ronan had little doubt that the young man was about to get taken down a peg - or three. McKay didn't seem like the kind to let anyone else's arrogance stand up for very long.

Sheppard turned to go after them, then paused and looked at Teyla. "Do you need me to stay?" Again, undercurrents lurked in the question.

"Does it look like I need you to stay?" Her response was pointed.

Sheppard half-grimaced, half-grinned, then looked at Ronan with his teeth still bared. "Are you coming?"

"I'd rather stay." He glanced quickly at Teyla and was pleased to sense the other male's hackles rising. "If Teyla doesn't object."

"I do not," she said, already moving about her workroom, collecting ingredients.

Sheppard nearly growled as Teyla floated the jars down to the bench. She turned her head just enough to catch his eye, and both stilled.

Ronan sensed the private conversation that passed between them along a Sapphire thread. He could have listened in if he chose - Sheppard's Jewel of Rank was Sapphire, while Ronan was one rank darker - but he didn't really want to overhear their conversation. Some things were private.

[I think this was the point at which John and Teyla came to the muse and announced that they were actually lovers. And the muse was all, "but I wrote you as 'interested parties'!" And lo they spaketh: "Too bad. Deal with it."]

"I'll hold you to that," Sheppard said at last.

Teyla turned away, but there was a smile in her voice as she replied. "I expect you to, Prince."

Sheppard gave Ronan one more long, warning look, and left without a further word. Teyla continued with her work, but gave him one, sidelong glance.

"You shouldn't tease him like that."

Ronan stood and stretched. "Maybe I'm not teasing."

The look she levelled at him between grinds of the pestle could have singed his balls. "If you weren't teasing, you would be doing more than merely treading on his toes when it comes to Elizabeth and I."

She had him there. Sort of. "I'm not staying in this court."

Her eyes flickered up before she turned back to her work. "Did I say you were? Sora of the Gennii will be a strong Queen once she has made the Offering."

"Like Elizabeth."

"Not like Elizabeth." Teyla spoke matter-of-factly. "Elizabeth is a good Queen. Sora will be strong, yes; whether she will be good remains to be seen."

Although her thoughts echoed his own from the morning, Ronan was disturbed by the casual way the Black Widow seemed to dismiss the young Queen.

"She's still young."

"And the young are easily led. She has been ruled by her father and her father's friends all these years. That will not be an easy yoke to break."

"Her trying shows that she's got spirit," Ronan said. Was he being too defensive over a Queen who still hadn't accepted his service? Maybe.

Or maybe he was just trying to justify to Teyla why he would take service with Sora - assuming the Gennii Queen wanted him.

"It does." Teyla set the pestle to continue grinding with Craft and went over to select two leaves from a small canvas bag which she crumbled into the mixture. "It does not indicate that she will be a good Queen."

He couldn't argue with that. "Do you think she can?"

"I think she can. But she may not want to."

"Harsh."

"We imitate the patterns we know," she said. "And what Sora knows is the cruelty, viciousness, and whimsy of the males of her Territory. It has not yet scarred her."

"It won't."

Her eyes met his. "It may not," she admitted. "Nothing is certain."

He hesitated before speaking his next words. "You haven't Seen again?"

She quivered and he got the impression that he'd asked a question that she didn't like. "What I see is not certain and never has been. Even a tangled web does not show me that path."

That didn't quite fit his image of a Black Widow. "I thought the witches who trained in the Hourglass coven could weave tangled webs to see the future."

"They can." The words were swift and sure. "But every witch in the Hourglass has her weaknesses, and visions are mine."

Ronan nodded. It made sense. He indicated the bowl. "And potions and spells are a strength of yours, then?"

She smiled, a slow, predatory curve of the lips. "One of them."

He let her continue to work, watching her move about her workroom as she made the contraceptive brew for Ford. Teyla had a different grace to Elizabeth; sleekly sensual with a predatory edge that warned a man to walk carefully or risk her temper - or worse. There was a tension there, as well. While Elizabeth walked in automatic trust of the males around her, Teyla had been forced to learn - or re-learn - trust.

There was a deep hurt in her, too, something that Ronan had only just begun to sense - a resonance with his own experience of slavery and cruelty. It wasn't as extensive or as scarring as his own experiences, but he could feel it there, lurking.

Perhaps it was why he felt kinship towards the coffee-skinned witch in despite of the caste and training he feared.

[I like Teyla&Ronon, but not Teyla/Ronon - it's like John&Elizabeth, but not John/Elizabeth. It might be because I'm a contrary bitch at heart, although it probably has more to do with the sibling dynamic that comes off really strong between Teyla and Ronon.]

And suddenly he realised what it was.

The words slipped out of his mouth, pure instinct; purer folly.

"You nearly didn't survive your Virgin Night." Around him, the air cooled. He felt the chill of her displeasure like the first autumn winds, felt the answering anger like ice over his soul. Not quite the killing edge, but close. "Why didn't they protect you?"

Only a few days before, Elizabeth had said that a witch was free to refuse a male's interest - as a male was free to reject a witch's advances. Why hadn't that applied to Teyla?

A few seconds passed before she responded. "If you refer to the males of this court, they did not know me then. I came to Atlantis court afterwards."

"Your own people?"

She laid her hands on the table, either side of the bowl turning gently over the bright witchflame. "I travelled from my village for lessons in the Hourglass Craft and was attacked returning home one night." Teyla said. And although her tone of voice was quiet and light, Ronan saw the way her hands pressed against the table's surface. "Your ire is wasted upon them, too."

He only realised his fingers were gripping the bench when her gaze dipped down to rest them. He'd clenched hard enough with muscle and Craft that the marks of his hand were left in the unyielding wood.

"Prince Dex." When he looked up from the table, her expression was gentle. "Thank you for your anger."

Ronan could only nod.

There were things he wanted to ask: how she had survived, how she had dealt with the rape. He wanted to know what Elizabeth had thought when she found out, how hard Sheppard had fought to get past Teyla's barriers. He wanted to know that the male or males who had hurt her had suffered for what they'd done.

He didn't ask the questions that swelled in him, because they weren't his to ask. Even amidst protectiveness, he knew that.

If Elizabeth of Atlantis attracted him as a woman attracted a man, he supposed that Teyla of Atlantis inspired other instincts.

He'd never had a sibling - a brother to wrestle with, a sister to tease. His warrior troop had been his friends, the social circles of the Satedan Province Queen's court his associates. There'd been women there who stirred his sexual interest, and women whose affection he had held as that of friends, but the sense of family had never been there.

If Elizabeth was the Queen, Teyla was Sister to their Brothers.

Ronan envied them both relationships.

He watched as she dipped something in the brew for a few seconds, closing her eyes. The power she used shivered through his soul - nothing more than a tremor at the Red, but Ronan could feel the echoes in the Grey below.

"You're strong for the Red," she said when she removed the item from the brew. "Birthright Opal?"

"Green."

She nodded. "As was I."

"You were born in Atlantis Territory."

"Yes. But not near the court." Her smile was wry. "My people are villagers - humble folk. My parents never dreamed that I might serve in a Territory Queen's First Circle." One corner of her mouth tipped up. "I never dreamed I might serve in a court like this."

So she wasn't aristo-born, or even near it. Ronan would never have guessed.

"How did you come here?"

"The previous Territory Queen of Atlantis, Lady Melia, was sick. She knew my mentor in the Hourglass, and asked her to come to court for a dream web. My mentor sent me in her stead and I met Elizabeth."

[Prequel! Prequel! Well, one of two, actually...]

"And the Lady asked you to serve."

"Later. When she began setting up her court." Teyla nodded. "We had corresponded a little. Her mother was a Black Widow, although Elizabeth never studied with the Hourglass Coven. She was...curious...about the Hourglass arts and we became friends."

Trusted friends.

"And the others?"

She paused as she unstoppered a jar and plucked a seed from it. "You show a great interest in Lady Elizabeth's court." The dark eyes rested on him with a query.

Ronan shrugged. If she wasn't going to tell him then she wasn't going to tell him.

The Black Widow shrugged as she dropped the seed into the brew. "John and Rodney grew up with her. Their family estates lie east and south of this one. The others were members of Lady Melia's court, Province Queens, friends Elizabeth made while touring through the Territory when she was younger. We are, as Carson says, a scrappy bunch, but we serve."

Ronan just nodded.

In the meantime, Teyla had taken the bowl off the tongue of witchfire and set it on a stand to cool. The aroma of the contraceptive brew was faintly herbal, stringent and cleansing. Ronan imagined he could feel it turning his seed sterile, just from the scent.

"Finished already?"

Dark lashes rose, amused, "It is not a difficult brew to make. And I have other things to be done."

She opened a drawer and took out a wooden frame. It was placed on a part of the worktable away from the brew. Another drawer produced a spool of fine thread, and a twist of the wrist produced a Purple-Dusk Jewel chip.

Ronan stared.

Frame, thread and Jewel chip: all the ingredients for a Black Widow to weave a powerful tangled web.

And the witch to weave it.

"Will that be necessary?" He managed through dry lips.

Teyla looked at him as she took up the spindle of thread and made a slight circling gesture with one finger, attaching the spider silk to one corner of the roughly triangular frame. "I hope not." Her gaze was troubled, but the resolution was there, unchanged. "You may not wish to stay for this."

Ronan hesitated. A thousand thoughts flashed through his mind as he looked from frame to thread to Jewel chip to Black Widow. Exactly what kind of web she was making and what it would do. Exactly what she thought might happen that would require a tangled web.

No. Better to leave her to her work in peace.

Better not to know.

Ronan left.

--

[And the scene is set for the action that's going to define the ending.]