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"Dance of the Trolls" by The Medićval Bćbes from their album Undrentide.

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The stringed instrument plinked and planked, drums rolling in tune as a lone flute’s wind slithered through the air. Teyla danced, her hair catching in red glints as the lantern light shimmered. Her movements were fluid and hauntingly seductive, like the serpentine tune. She rolled a shoulder back, craning her neck so that her hair cascaded down her back only to lift again as she twirled.

“I take back what I said earlier. This stuff is really good.” McKay tore off another piece of the fried bread, chewing while he spoke. “I mean, seriously,” his voice squeaked in amusement. “Why can’t we make something like this?”

Ronon’s head felt like it was floating somewhere just above his shoulders, pulsating sleepily in time with the music as he watched Teyla and the shifting shadows of her back before another dancing couple obscured his view. He dragged his eyes away from the dance floor and looked at the greasy bread. “You’re gonna be sick tomorrow.”

McKay just laughed. “Oh come on, this stuff’s harmless.”

Ronon smirked and took another gulp of the juice, rolling his tongue over the fiery aftertaste of alcohol. He looked back to the center of the room where couples were dancing. Sheppard was laughing as the blonde he danced with reached up to feel the tip of his ear. Ronon searched for Teyla but she was already on the other side of the room, pausing for a drink.

“Here, try some of this, Carson.” McKay tossed a piece of fried bread towards Beckett.

Carson swallowed hard as he looked at it. “No thanks, Rodney. I’ve had enough already.”

Rodney shrugged and ate the proffered piece.

Ronon lifted his cup to Beckett. “C’mon Doc, drink up.”

Carson looked rabbit-eyed from his place in the corner. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough already, Ronon?”

Ronon finished the mug with a satisfied lick of the lips. “Nope.”

Beckett let out a quiet sigh. “I just never was one for parties.”

“Oh please, you’re Scottish,” McKay spat as he chewed. “You people nance about in skirts drinking scotch and eating sheep’s stomachs.”

Beckett gave him a warning look.

Ronon studied the two, feeling as if the room were swaying slightly. “...Skirts?”

McKay turned to him with a smug, lopsided grin. “Yeah – men wear skirts where Carson’s from. In fact-”

“Shut up, Rodney.”

“- they do this ridiculous little twirly dance thingy called the, what is it Becky? The Highland fling.”

Beckett stared at the table before him in shock. “Becky?”

McKay shrugged. “New nickname. They also-”

“It’s a woman’s name!”

Ronon looked Carson up and down and shrugged, looking back to the dance floor. Beckett’s mouth fell slightly agape. “I don’t believe you two! Are you trying to say that I look like a woman?”

McKay snorted into his drink. Ronon smiled a little and raised his eyebrows, talking over his shoulder. “McKay says you wear skirts.”

Beckett straightened. “They’re not skirts, they’re kilts! And the Highland fling happens to be a very respected-”

Sheppard practically collapsed onto the table. “Did you guys see that blonde chick? She was practically-”

“I could shoot her for you,” Ronon offered with a playful light in his eyes.

Sheppard straightened and tugged his shirt back in place. “No thank you, Ronon – I happen to actually like that kind of attention.”

Ronon glanced behind Sheppard at the blonde who was busily gossiping to a friend while studying Sheppard from behind. “I can tell.” He looked back to Sheppard, trying not to laugh.

Sheppard narrowed his eyes and mock slapped the air in front of Ronon’s face. The Satedan’s grin broadened as he leaned away from Sheppard’s arm. Sheppard straightened again. “Like you would know anything about... well... that sort of thing.”

McKay spoke from behind the brim of his glass. “Mmm,” he held up a finger to mark his point. “His last name does rhyme with-”

“Rodney!” Beckett gasped.

McKay slowly turned to Carson, drink dripping down his chin as he slurred out “Whaaat?”

“I think you’ve had enough to drink.”

Rodney began to laugh hysterically, dropping his head into his arm on the table and pounding the tabletop with his free fist. He gasped out “‘enough’!” and continued to laugh.

Sheppard and Ronon watched the exchange with furrowed brows then slowly met each other’s gazes. Sheppard’s upper lip and eye twitched. “I’m not even gonna ask.”

Ronon shook his head, looking at the laughing Rodney again. “And I don’t wanna know...”

Beckett had his face in his hands.

Sheppard playfully punched Ronon in the shoulder. “C’mon – you gotta at least dance with a girl.”

Ronon’s voice suddenly became grave. “I’m fine.”

“I saw that brunette in the corner checking you out a few minutes ago...” Sheppard dragged the sentence out with a nod towards a middle-aged woman who seemed to have taken up permanent residence next to the alcohol barrels, her reddened bosom practically falling out of her corset. Ronon’s eyebrows twitched together at the embarrassing sight. Sheppard followed his gaze then looked back to his teammate. “Okay, maybe not her.”

Teyla had made her way to the table beside theirs and was tying her hair back, acknowledging a comment made to her by one of the female villagers with a bow of the head. Sheppard looked over at her. “Here ya go – dance with Teyla.”

Ronon stiffened and looked between Teyla and Sheppard. John smirked then gently grabbed Teyla’s elbow to get her attention. “Hey Teyla.” She smiled at him and stepped over. “Ronon wants to dance with you.” He lightly pressed on the back of her shoulders as he let her fill where he was standing in front of Ronon.

Ronon couldn’t move. He’d forgotten who he was.

Teyla had her brow furrowed since he made no effort to get out of his chair. “Did you...?”

He had to move his lips a few times before any sound came out. “I...”

Teyla took his hand and he rose out of the chair, abandoning his empty glass. “I know of several young women here who would like to dance with you.” She winked at him.

It was all he could do to get his feet to move as he walked a few steps away from the table with her. “I don’t really...” He watched all the other couples laughing and kissing and enjoying themselves.

“...dance?” Teyla finished for him with an amused expression.

The Satedan nodded, feeling unsteady on his feet even though he knew he hadn’t yet drunk enough to feel so lightheaded.

Teyla leaned in close and he stiffened as he felt her breath on his neck. “Fear not,” she whispered. “It is not as difficult as it appears.” She gave his hand a small tug as she stepped back into the flow of bodies, Ronon following weightlessly behind her, his stomach slowly catching up to his mind as the butterflies within brought him to the point of nausea. It got worse when Teyla placed one hand on his shoulder and twined her fingers with his.

“To victory!” a reveler shouted as he sloshily raised his mug, his rosy cheeks shiny in the lamplight. A chorus of “to victory” answered him as the locals congratulated themselves on their recent defeat of their rival tribe. “And to our new friends who bless us with the fortune they bring!” the man continued and he was once again met with shouts from his fellow villagers as they sought out members of the Atlantis team to thank them for the alleged luck they had brought the tribe in defeating their enemy.

Ronon shared a perplexedly amused look with Teyla as a male villager vigorously shook Carson’s hand. Teyla laughed as the man then kissed the Scot on the cheek and Carson colored. Ronon grinned and looked back to Teyla. “Says he wears skirts, too.”

A corner of the Athosian’s mouth twisted up. “I believe it is called a kilt.”

Ronon’s brows inadvertently raised a little as he struggled for a witticism since she’d obviously already had a crash course on Scottish culture. He lost all track of thought, however, when her chest brushed against his as she scooted closer to make room for a large man who was passing by. Ronon’s stomach wrenched when her leg slid against his and he took in a surprised gulp of air at her sudden proximity, yet his surprise was drowned by the new tune starting up. The man squeezed his way past and Teyla took a step backwards again, yet the Satedan’s flesh maintained the body heat of her touch.

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"Rebirth" by Midival Punditz.

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The echoing twang of a stringed instrument was joined by the slow pulsing of drums and a flute that wove like sparrows in flight. Couples began to dance once more and with a jaunt of horror, Ronon realized that his palm was sweating. He extracted his fingers from hers with an apologetic smile, afraid to meet her eyes, as he wiped his palm off on his hip. Teyla’s posture exuded patience and began to put him at ease. It’s just Teyla you goober. Just Teyla... Just Teyla. He clumsily replaced his hand in hers and she raised her brows in question. He dipped his head in a tiny nod and she took a step backward. “Wherever I go, you follow.”

He nodded, looking down at his feet, suddenly afraid of stepping on one of hers. She brought her foot forward again and he hastily retracted his own. She smiled encouragingly. “Good. I retreat and you follow.” She looked down at their feet. “It is an old dance.” She flicked her hair out of her eyes as she looked back up. “You do not want me to get away.”

They moved back and forth, her hips swaying outward with each step. He tried not to notice. “If that’s the point then I could turn Running into a dance.”

She looked amused as their feet accidentally bumped into each other’s. “I believe that is called chase.”

His brows were furrowed as he continued to stare at their feet, his cheeks coloring from having just missed a step and bumped into her. “Right...” He wanted to join Carson in his dark corner with a gallon of alcohol to hide in.

Teyla loosed her fingers from his to hold his hand more lightly. “Just move. I lead and you follow.” Her arm was suddenly in the air, taking his with it, and she spun beneath. He couldn’t help but laugh a little. Sheppard hollered a “whoo hoo!” from nearby, cheering her on. The distraction and resulting laughter as she bonked into the Satedan on her spin back towards him managed to unknot some of the sinews of Ronon’s shoulders. He began to listen with his hands, using his physical link with her to read what she asked of him as the music gained in momentum. With a slight start he realized that some timed had passed and he’d stopped worrying over where to step and was simply moving, holding out his arm to twirl her out and reel her back in with the beat of the music; feeling the twist and pulse of her tendons and the pressure of her palm sing to him of her movements, guiding him.

She grinned at him as she moved freely, her eyes encouraging as she knew he gained confidence. Her breath tickled his face as she pulled in close from a spin, sweat freckles on her nose. Her hand slid from his shoulder down his bicep and across his forearm until her fingers found those of his hand on her hip. She guided his hand up to the back of her shoulders and as she did so his eyes fleetingly cast out towards the dance floor, afraid of the pleasant jolt inside at her touch. He noticed other men with their hands in similar positions, seemingly slinging their female partner from side to side as she twirled from one arm to the next. His feet almost froze as he realized that he had no idea what she was asking him to do.

Teyla gracefully spun away from him towards his other hand, which he instinctively held out for her to catch. Her palm met his and before he was able to give her a questioning look she was twirling again, then her arm suddenly hooked around his waist as her hip bumped his, prodding him to pivot to the side as she dipped backwards with one hand around his waist, her other still held in his. Her ponytailed hair rubbed against the cloth of his long-sleeved shirt in sticking clumps. He froze, not daring to move, even though she was supporting her own weight.

He tensed as he felt her begin to shake yet slackened with relief as he realized that she was laughing. An inescapable smile crept over his face as well as she straightened and tucked a few sweaty strands behind her ears, releasing his hand. He felt the pressing need to say something as the silence between them continued to pulse, the heat of the dance and their nearness suffocating. A part of him wanted to apologize for being such a bad dance, a part wanted to compliment her on being a fine dancer, but the part that won out was silence.

She ran a hand over her face, hiding her eyes from him. “I have not-”

Sheppard and his blonde partner had suddenly waltzed to their side. The colonel was looking aghast at something on the other side of the room. “Oh for the love of lemons...”

Teyla and Ronon followed his gaze to find McKay ridiculously waltzing with Beckett on the other side of the room. The Satedan burst out laughing. Teyla looked between her two teammates with slight concern. “Dr. McKay appears to be-”

“Drunk off his ass,” Sheppard finished for her.

“And puttin’ the moves on the skirt-wearing Doc. B,” Ronon added.

Teyla’s jaw dropped in slight indignation and amusement as she looked from the Satedan to the two Earth men. Rodney was a stumbling mess and Beckett’s previous look of horror seemed to be replaced with grim determination as he forcefully waltzed McKay right out the door.

Ronon looked amusedly at Sheppard. “Uh oh – looks like the two need some alone time.”

Sheppard glared at him and was about to vouch for Beckett’s unwavering dedication to his patients when his eyes widened and his eyebrows shot up. “Ronon, that’s the most perverted thing I’ve ever heard you say!” He suddenly looked concerned and glanced away. “Oh my God... I’m rubbing off on you...”

The music ended with applause and the musicians bowed then began packing up their instruments. The blonde tugged Sheppard into a corner as the revelers began to disperse. Teyla wiped at the sweat at her hairline. “That was very enjoyable.” She gave him a smile of thanks as she began to step away.

“Teyla?”

She looked back to Ronon.

“Thank you.”

She smiled again and inclined her head. “And you as well.”

He watched her walk away for a few beats then remembered his gear left at the table and turned back to retrieve it.

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Now Is Light

Now Is Light Homepage
I. Prologue: Teasing Out Dreams
III. Tailing Not Far Behind
IV. For A Few Fleeting Moments
V. Dangerous Creatures
VI. The Hunter
VII. No Fear
VIII. Emboldened
IX. Looming Into Heartstrings
X. Failing Light
XI. Epilogue: An Intimate Whisper

Email: black_hawk_girl@hotmail.com