Fic posting!
Nov. 30th, 2006 01:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
minxyTitle: Footsoldiers on Uneven Ground
Characters: Bra’tac and Teal’c, backstory.
Rating: PG
Wordcount: ~1600
Beta'd by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rydra_wong, who is wonderful.
Summary: The woman he was looking for would not be among the revelers.
The evening was warm. A bonfire in the center of the clearing had burned down, but was maintained for the light it cast. Children played nearby, in a game of movements looping in and around each other. Their guardians made the next circle of people, expressions harder to gauge, intentions concealed in the places hollowed out by the absence of light.
Bra’tac walked into his shadow. The heat on his back had faded into the warmth of the evening long before the edges of his shadow blurred into the night.
The woman Bra’tac was looking for would not be among the revelers.
“Well met, First Prime of Apophis,” she greeted him as he approached in quiet steps through the edges of the treeline.
“I am no such thing,” he told her with a smile in his voice he did not bother to suppress, falling into place at her side, watching the group of children rough-house by the fire, “It is some other suitor you expect this night, perhaps?”
She turned and smiled at him, not bothering to reply. Tall, so that she looked him in the eye without tilting her head. In the dusk of the summer evening, she was a polished wood doll, but Bra’tac knew better than to think of her that way for more than half a thought. As she turned back toward the children’s shouts, the last fingers of firelight glinted in a dull red crown in her hair, and cast shadows under her cheekbones.
“Well met, Lady.” He spoke the ritual words to have something to say.
“And I,” she said, “Am no lady, as you well know, Bra’tac.”
“You could be,” he said, dropping his chin as he offered the words. “So many things would be better, Mehr’auc.”
“And so many lost, Bra’tac. You would truly never be first prime with me in your house.”
“It would be an honor, not a hardship.” He did not say that it was high time a man his age considered marrying; she had countered that before. He did not say that his God would approve in spirit, as the tactic had proved ineffective.
“Honor for me, hardship for you.”
“A privilege, Lady, and a small sacrifice for your health and that of your boy.” They were merely circling each other in a well-rehearsed dance now.
The boy in question chose that moment to give a great shout from within his game with the other children, and leap on gangly legs after the girl who had taken the stick from his hands. His voice drew his mother’s eyes as he chased the girl good humouredly, but there was no real concern for him, only pride. Bra’tac stepped up close to her, his shoulder behind hers as he followed her line of sight. The boy she watched was standing a few inches shorter than the girl next to him, circling her awkwardly as she turned and protected her prize. His face caught the firelight, ink on his forehead swallowing the light of the fire where his companions foreheads were unlined.
The young boy lurched ungainly around his opponent and yelped when he received an elbow in the stomach for his trouble.
“He has taken the mark of Apophis,” Bra’tac fought to hide the accusation from his voice—he was too young, and would miss the traditions of taking the mark with his peers because his mother was foreign born. She did not know what she deprived him of, having him take it early.
The woman turned at his tone, fire in her eyes. “Do you know why I brought him here, Bra’tac? For this!” He squinted at her outburst and tried to understand how setting her son apart could have been motivation for anything. He was surprised when she continued, “He has so much pride in his father.”
The two statements seemed unconnected to Bra’tac, but the second was at least manageable. “Such a thing is admirable in a boy, especially one who lost his father so young.”
“Not if he seeks revenge,” Mehr’auc suddenly looked tired, her voice losing all its previous vehemence, the shadows hollowing into her skin. “Not if he continues to lay the blame for his father’s death at the hands of the one who killed him.”
“Where else would he place it?” He spoke before he could think, before he remembered that this was not a woman failing to understand her warrior boy, before he remembered the rumor that they had come under the shadow of their former God’s displeasure, that her husband had failed and fallen at Kronos’ hand.
“Indeed,” she replied. “It is fortuitous that it may be seen in such a light on Chulak.” Her eyes settled on a boulder fallen from the cliffs behind them and rolled some ways, now half sunken into the good black soil, but safely protected from the human laborer’s disruption behind the treeline. Mehr’auc raised her gaze to his with an amused and charitable look on her face. Whether she was granting him the decision or asking for his company he wasn’t sure, but he swept an arm out inviting them both to rest regardless.
She looked tired. The firelight could not touch the dark swirls of Kronos’ emblem on her forehead, even as she sat down and turned her face back to the light.
"Mehr'auc, if you need anything while I am gone on this next campaign -" she was already turning incredulous eyes on him, but he continued anyway - "you will always find welcome if you apply to my house."
The words fell flat; they both knew that an outcast would find nothing of the sort, were he not there to insist on special treatment. But not for nothing was he called the bravest of Apophis’ warriors; he risked the welcome for her. He sat beside her and risked her hollow mocking to offer it again.
He wondered if it was, in fact, foolishness that he continued to invite her into his life, when she so clearly would not come.
“I will send Teal’c, if I may.” He glanced at her to find she was looking at him carefully. “He would also find welcome?”
“Yes.” He found himself swelling with pride that she had found a way to accept his regard, and his assistance, even if it must be by proxy. He would instruct his servants to expect a young warrior, as he would appear to be, with the black insignia already upon his brow. There would be no mention of his home in the outcast camp, or his lineage. Teal’c of Chulak would suffice.
“This campaign is against Bastet, is it not? I hear it is to be a battle of special magnificence.”
Her humor had an edge that he could not always predict, he cut his eyes sideways to read her mood as he worded his answer. “We expect to be victorious,” he agreed.
“You expect to be victorious because you have planned this campaign,” she elaborated, voicing the source of the pride he had been hesitant to express. Sometimes women were peculiar about warrior pride. “Perhaps you will be First Prime when you return. It will not be long, Bra’tac.”
“You have more ambitions for me than I think I have even for myself, woman,” he said fondly.
She sighed. “It is a burden, Bra’tac, make no mistake; however, to serve your people is worth the price.”
To serve my God, he mentally corrected, wondering at her phrasing, wondering which was the honor and which the price. It must have shown on his face, because she quietly added, “You will see,” and brought a hand up between him and the merry makers at the bonfire. He thought perhaps she would touch his face, but her fingers merely brushed the seam at the shoulder of his robe and then dropped away.
He watched her gather her dignity and turn back to the fire. “Perhaps Teal’c too will see, someday.”
“May we discuss marriage again, if I become First Prime?” He was careful to watch the fire as well as he asked, letting its light on his simple cotton robes be his only armour.
“Not even a gold emblem can protect you from the shame I carry, Bra’tac.” She was making to stand, so he stood with her and offered an arm.
“You speak of shame and honor as though they are armies, Lady, when really they are finite quantities, to be bartered and sold.” Her arm remained around his, palm resting on his forearm, fingers making grooves in the fabric of his sleeve, the pressure steady. “I would willingly lend you honor, until such time as you may regain your own.”
Mehr’auc looked at him with warmth. “We may discuss it, when you return as First Prime,” she said, but the smile faded from her face as though she were already regretting the weakness.
“I will walk you home,” Bra’tac said, dropping the subject while he had won some advantage.
“No,” she answered, as he expected, “But you may walk me to the clearing. You should not be seen at the outcast camp, Bra’tac.”
“Then I will walk you to the clearing.” He stepped her around the boulder and ignored how much she was allowing him to lead. “And you must take care of yourself, Lady, for your boy’s sake as much as for mine or your own.”
“We all have our own battles to fight, Bra’tac; this one is mine. I promise to fight it with tenacity and cunning.”
Too soon she was threading her way back into the trees, towards the clearing and the outskirts where the outcasts were permitted to make their camps. He thought wryly that he was never sure who was supporting whom or if he would ever really understand her expectations.
~end.~
Characters: Bra’tac and Teal’c, backstory.
Rating: PG
Wordcount: ~1600
Beta'd by
rydra_wong, who is wonderful.Summary: The woman he was looking for would not be among the revelers.
The evening was warm. A bonfire in the center of the clearing had burned down, but was maintained for the light it cast. Children played nearby, in a game of movements looping in and around each other. Their guardians made the next circle of people, expressions harder to gauge, intentions concealed in the places hollowed out by the absence of light.
Bra’tac walked into his shadow. The heat on his back had faded into the warmth of the evening long before the edges of his shadow blurred into the night.
The woman Bra’tac was looking for would not be among the revelers.
“Well met, First Prime of Apophis,” she greeted him as he approached in quiet steps through the edges of the treeline.
“I am no such thing,” he told her with a smile in his voice he did not bother to suppress, falling into place at her side, watching the group of children rough-house by the fire, “It is some other suitor you expect this night, perhaps?”
She turned and smiled at him, not bothering to reply. Tall, so that she looked him in the eye without tilting her head. In the dusk of the summer evening, she was a polished wood doll, but Bra’tac knew better than to think of her that way for more than half a thought. As she turned back toward the children’s shouts, the last fingers of firelight glinted in a dull red crown in her hair, and cast shadows under her cheekbones.
“Well met, Lady.” He spoke the ritual words to have something to say.
“And I,” she said, “Am no lady, as you well know, Bra’tac.”
“You could be,” he said, dropping his chin as he offered the words. “So many things would be better, Mehr’auc.”
“And so many lost, Bra’tac. You would truly never be first prime with me in your house.”
“It would be an honor, not a hardship.” He did not say that it was high time a man his age considered marrying; she had countered that before. He did not say that his God would approve in spirit, as the tactic had proved ineffective.
“Honor for me, hardship for you.”
“A privilege, Lady, and a small sacrifice for your health and that of your boy.” They were merely circling each other in a well-rehearsed dance now.
The boy in question chose that moment to give a great shout from within his game with the other children, and leap on gangly legs after the girl who had taken the stick from his hands. His voice drew his mother’s eyes as he chased the girl good humouredly, but there was no real concern for him, only pride. Bra’tac stepped up close to her, his shoulder behind hers as he followed her line of sight. The boy she watched was standing a few inches shorter than the girl next to him, circling her awkwardly as she turned and protected her prize. His face caught the firelight, ink on his forehead swallowing the light of the fire where his companions foreheads were unlined.
The young boy lurched ungainly around his opponent and yelped when he received an elbow in the stomach for his trouble.
“He has taken the mark of Apophis,” Bra’tac fought to hide the accusation from his voice—he was too young, and would miss the traditions of taking the mark with his peers because his mother was foreign born. She did not know what she deprived him of, having him take it early.
The woman turned at his tone, fire in her eyes. “Do you know why I brought him here, Bra’tac? For this!” He squinted at her outburst and tried to understand how setting her son apart could have been motivation for anything. He was surprised when she continued, “He has so much pride in his father.”
The two statements seemed unconnected to Bra’tac, but the second was at least manageable. “Such a thing is admirable in a boy, especially one who lost his father so young.”
“Not if he seeks revenge,” Mehr’auc suddenly looked tired, her voice losing all its previous vehemence, the shadows hollowing into her skin. “Not if he continues to lay the blame for his father’s death at the hands of the one who killed him.”
“Where else would he place it?” He spoke before he could think, before he remembered that this was not a woman failing to understand her warrior boy, before he remembered the rumor that they had come under the shadow of their former God’s displeasure, that her husband had failed and fallen at Kronos’ hand.
“Indeed,” she replied. “It is fortuitous that it may be seen in such a light on Chulak.” Her eyes settled on a boulder fallen from the cliffs behind them and rolled some ways, now half sunken into the good black soil, but safely protected from the human laborer’s disruption behind the treeline. Mehr’auc raised her gaze to his with an amused and charitable look on her face. Whether she was granting him the decision or asking for his company he wasn’t sure, but he swept an arm out inviting them both to rest regardless.
She looked tired. The firelight could not touch the dark swirls of Kronos’ emblem on her forehead, even as she sat down and turned her face back to the light.
"Mehr'auc, if you need anything while I am gone on this next campaign -" she was already turning incredulous eyes on him, but he continued anyway - "you will always find welcome if you apply to my house."
The words fell flat; they both knew that an outcast would find nothing of the sort, were he not there to insist on special treatment. But not for nothing was he called the bravest of Apophis’ warriors; he risked the welcome for her. He sat beside her and risked her hollow mocking to offer it again.
He wondered if it was, in fact, foolishness that he continued to invite her into his life, when she so clearly would not come.
“I will send Teal’c, if I may.” He glanced at her to find she was looking at him carefully. “He would also find welcome?”
“Yes.” He found himself swelling with pride that she had found a way to accept his regard, and his assistance, even if it must be by proxy. He would instruct his servants to expect a young warrior, as he would appear to be, with the black insignia already upon his brow. There would be no mention of his home in the outcast camp, or his lineage. Teal’c of Chulak would suffice.
“This campaign is against Bastet, is it not? I hear it is to be a battle of special magnificence.”
Her humor had an edge that he could not always predict, he cut his eyes sideways to read her mood as he worded his answer. “We expect to be victorious,” he agreed.
“You expect to be victorious because you have planned this campaign,” she elaborated, voicing the source of the pride he had been hesitant to express. Sometimes women were peculiar about warrior pride. “Perhaps you will be First Prime when you return. It will not be long, Bra’tac.”
“You have more ambitions for me than I think I have even for myself, woman,” he said fondly.
She sighed. “It is a burden, Bra’tac, make no mistake; however, to serve your people is worth the price.”
To serve my God, he mentally corrected, wondering at her phrasing, wondering which was the honor and which the price. It must have shown on his face, because she quietly added, “You will see,” and brought a hand up between him and the merry makers at the bonfire. He thought perhaps she would touch his face, but her fingers merely brushed the seam at the shoulder of his robe and then dropped away.
He watched her gather her dignity and turn back to the fire. “Perhaps Teal’c too will see, someday.”
“May we discuss marriage again, if I become First Prime?” He was careful to watch the fire as well as he asked, letting its light on his simple cotton robes be his only armour.
“Not even a gold emblem can protect you from the shame I carry, Bra’tac.” She was making to stand, so he stood with her and offered an arm.
“You speak of shame and honor as though they are armies, Lady, when really they are finite quantities, to be bartered and sold.” Her arm remained around his, palm resting on his forearm, fingers making grooves in the fabric of his sleeve, the pressure steady. “I would willingly lend you honor, until such time as you may regain your own.”
Mehr’auc looked at him with warmth. “We may discuss it, when you return as First Prime,” she said, but the smile faded from her face as though she were already regretting the weakness.
“I will walk you home,” Bra’tac said, dropping the subject while he had won some advantage.
“No,” she answered, as he expected, “But you may walk me to the clearing. You should not be seen at the outcast camp, Bra’tac.”
“Then I will walk you to the clearing.” He stepped her around the boulder and ignored how much she was allowing him to lead. “And you must take care of yourself, Lady, for your boy’s sake as much as for mine or your own.”
“We all have our own battles to fight, Bra’tac; this one is mine. I promise to fight it with tenacity and cunning.”
Too soon she was threading her way back into the trees, towards the clearing and the outskirts where the outcasts were permitted to make their camps. He thought wryly that he was never sure who was supporting whom or if he would ever really understand her expectations.
~end.~
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-11-30 10:38 pm (UTC)this story has marvelous tone, a quietness that allows the characters to really shine through. and bra'tac is delightfully himself.
the life that he's led is reflected here beautifully. so many stories and people he's known and you've made him even more solid in the face of his relationships past and present.
no subject
Date: 2006-12-01 05:28 pm (UTC)Bra'tac is such an interesting character, isn't he? I mean, where did his rebellion come from? Was it just from being first prime? If so, why didn't every other first prime also come to the same conclusions? And how, if he's being so disillusioned about something so central to his life, does he then turn around and all but adopt a foreign-born youngster? With no cynicism? I mean, seriously, that is a very interesting backstory.
(no subject)
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Date: 2006-12-01 12:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-01 05:33 pm (UTC)It's very interesting to me that a woman never spoken of might be the reason those two men changed the course of Jaffa history.
no subject
Date: 2006-12-01 01:07 am (UTC)Where did the idea come from? Or, did you want to write a backstory and then wrack your brains for a idea? Inquiring minds want to know! :-D
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Date: 2006-12-01 05:43 pm (UTC)Until I went to Boston in prep for heading off to Africa and saw my friend A's 14 year old nephew, whom I knew well when we were in college over there, but who is really, really tall now. A mentioned that now, at his age, it was getting really difficult to draw him out and get him to talk. So Nephew sparked the idea, because I was going to write an early conversation between Bra'tac and Teal'c, where T is on this new planet and losing his second parent and not sure what's going to happen and Bra'tac would have come from her deathbed, having admired her and made her a promise as she lay dying and... yeah. There would have been a 'I can't play favorites, but I can give you personal training. Come by for supper every day after warrior school' or whatever.
Except that morphed into showing how Bra'tac could admire this woman and not really have a relationship with Teal'c yet, who was presumably always around the house, how she made the decisions she made, how Teal'c was protected from the burdens she bore and why, which became her grace and cynicism, and how that might have been taught to Bra'tac and Teal'c... it became a self contained story that didn't need the drama of Mehr'auc dying or the second conversation with Teal'c to complete it. And really, the circumstances of Mehr'auc's death in my head too closely echoed some of the things that Sal did in Water Moon anyway.
So there you go! The origin of a fic. All down to Katie *points down*
no subject
Date: 2006-12-01 05:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-01 05:51 pm (UTC)Tattooing young people, as young as Ry'ac, as young as the girls in Ishta's camp, doesn't make a lot of logical sense to me, as they're still growing and the tattoo could get misshapen, yadda. So in my head, they wouldn't do the tattoo unless there was a matter of loyalty at stake; like Teal'c, like Ry'ac. It's hand-wavey, but there you go.
She would have had to have been extraordinary, though, wouldn't she? And I think Bra'tac, at the very least, must have at least known who she was and respected her for that, if he was to all but raise her son. And if he knew her personally, he really would have to have gone out of his way to have a conversation with an outcast. She had to have been remarkable.
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Date: 2006-12-01 05:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-01 05:53 pm (UTC)Thanks. *blushes*
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Date: 2006-12-01 06:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-01 05:58 pm (UTC)Ha. And you know how I finally picked the name? My friend A, who is Pakistani-American, has a number of girlfriends who's names have in common the -een of the end. Sabeen, Mehreen, so I picked Mehreen, and then adjusted the end of the name to be Jaffa. Thus avoiding clearly mimicking one of the names we've already heard, but staying sorta Jaffa-like. I haven't told A or Mehreen (whom I don't know, actually) that I've done it, though. *g*
She sorta needed a name, though. Couldn't go through the whole fic calling her 'woman'.
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Date: 2006-12-01 08:00 am (UTC)Very well done :-)
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Date: 2006-12-01 06:01 pm (UTC)Thank you!
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Date: 2006-12-01 09:08 pm (UTC)(I no longer have a Teal'c icon - *woe!*)
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Date: 2006-12-02 07:23 am (UTC)(Teal'c icons are very important! Teal'c is the mostest fascinatingest of enigmatic characters!) (And Cameron thinks he is So Neat)
no subject
Date: 2006-12-02 01:37 am (UTC)Very cool.
I want to see more of Mehr'auc. She's tough and wry and very cool.
no subject
Date: 2006-12-02 07:49 am (UTC)But we see the effects of her without ever hearing her name uttered. Ripple effects. I love the idea that she hoped Teal'c and Bra'tac would one day be strong enough to do something to really better the lot of the Jaffa, and I would have loved to have seen her face when they started the revolution, and when they finished it.
Ficlet for you:
"Tell me of your mother." Ishta's gait was still easy, her steps long, and her fingers idly playing with the seeds in a shaft of grain.
"You are nothing but questioning," Teal'c answered, centering himself in the view of the sky, Ishta in his peripheral vision keeping him on course.
"You have told me of your wife, your son, your friends, your father..." He could see that she was glancing at him ascance, gauging his reaction. "How did you come to be in the service of Apophis when your father died as First Prime of Kronos?"
"We left Kronos' service in disgrace; sought sanctuary on Chulak in the service of Apophis. I have told you this." He had, he had said much in the last few hours; he could feel it in his voice and throat. It was a pleasant ache.
"No," Ishta said, her pace slowing slightly, "You ought to have become an outcast, doomed to serve and beg, yet you are not. You became First Prime of a different Goa'uld. How is it this came to pass?"
Teal'c brought his eyes down from the skies to rest in the spaces between the trees, the dark hollows.
"My mother made a choice," Teal'c said, the memory old and rusty, "And commended me to Master Bra'tac's care on her death."
"How did she die?" The woman was as stubborn as a mak'tar.
"In the outcast camp, of persistant illness, as many did." Teal'c had been young, the memory of his father's loss still sharp. He had always blamed Kronos by accessory for his mother's death as well.
"Master Bra'tac would not help her?" Ishta's voice held carefully held knives.
"He would, she refused his assistance for herself." This brought a halt to their movement across the field.
"There was romance between them." Ishta spoke as though answering her own question.
"Trust a woman to see romance in any tale," Teal'c said, his voice thick with memories he had not considered in many years.
"You are mistaken, Teal'c," Ishta said, moving easily between the trees, "if you think that all I can see in this story is it's romantic qualities."
It was not the first time that Teal'c thought he might have accidentally underestimated the woman.
no subject
Date: 2006-12-03 05:53 pm (UTC)Teal'c's mother is so fascinating in this story:
She sighed. “It is a burden, Bra’tac, make no mistake; however, to serve your people is worth the price.”
To serve my God, he mentally corrected, wondering at her phrasing
Hmm... So was she the one who first put doubts into Bra'tac's mind (and thus fostering the seeds of the Jaffa rebellion)?
no subject
Date: 2006-12-05 03:05 am (UTC)So was she the one who first put doubts into Bra'tac's mind?
See, I am enchanted by the idea that Bra'tac taught Teal'c what he'd seen as First Prime, but that Teal'c might have learned it from his own father, had he lived long enough, because he was First Prime. The connection here is Teal'c's mother, who made some amazing choices, and the fact that Teal'c knew about how his father died, that Kronos killed him, and his mother must have, if not taught him this, then supported this interpretation.
And she's never once been mentioned in canon. How fascinating is that? She had to have been more amazing than amazing. What if she was the source of all of it? What if her expectations for Bra'tac and Teal'c were the ones they lived up to?
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Date: 2006-12-04 12:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-05 03:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-05 03:21 am (UTC)“You speak of shame and honor as though they are armies, Lady, when really they are finite quantities, to be bartered and sold.” Her arm remained around his, palm resting on his forearm, fingers making grooves in the fabric of his sleeve, the pressure steady. “I would willingly lend you honor, until such time as you may regain your own.”
I think it's one of the strongest bits of this fic and really defines alot about Bra'tac's beliefs.
Very nice!
no subject
Date: 2006-12-08 07:49 pm (UTC)I'm glad you thought Bra'tac was sweet when he was all young and in love. There has to be a reason he never married, you know?
Thanks. Nice icon, too!
no subject
Date: 2006-12-08 05:12 pm (UTC)And icon! Yay!
no subject
Date: 2006-12-08 07:56 pm (UTC)I'm so glad you liked this. I'm glad everybody liked this--I didn't expect it to find much of an audience, to be honest. I haven't had time to announce it in comms much, though. Should do that.
If I can go all writerly on you, there were several fics in a row where the early drafts had one character or another a little too blatantly stating exactly the theme at some point, and lucky for me, these were caught in beta. I was playing this time, with the discussion of huge and weighty topics by the Jaffa, who always seem to be saying exactly what they mean and simultaneously holding a second or third cryptic conversation with the same words. So this fic I deliberately danced around a bunch of things I wanted to have going on and tried to be so light touching on them that the beta comments tended to the other extreme of asking for just a little more clarification because it felt like something really cool was just out of understanding. Which made me very proud.
So thank you for saying there were many things embedded in the discussion, that is exactly what I hoped you would find.
Plus, I love that icon more and more as time goes on. Poor hurting Teal'c, isolated in so many ways, despite so many good intentions. Mehr'auc chose so well when she asked Bra'tac to get involved in his life.
Thank you.
no subject
Date: 2006-12-08 08:52 pm (UTC)Beuatifully written and expressed!
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Date: 2006-12-09 04:20 am (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2006-12-09 07:45 pm (UTC)Lovely--wonderful voices, thoughtful piece.
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Date: 2006-12-10 09:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-09 11:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-10 09:50 pm (UTC)Bra'tac is a rebel, man. He and Teal'c love strong women, and that is rebellious on it's own, nevermind treason.
(no subject)
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Date: 2006-12-10 04:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-10 09:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-02 08:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-10 06:14 pm (UTC)But oh goodness, if you mean writing in general, yes, Talion is running all over a longer piece that I hope to have ready by the time the episode airs in the US.
Sorry for the spammy response, but you asked a question I've been thinking about for a while. *sheepish grin*
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2007-03-03 11:57 am (UTC)Particularly loved, "It is a burden, Bra’tac, make no mistake; however, to serve your people is worth the price".
Because that was Teal'c, and Bra'tac, in a nutshell. And they both got it from the same source.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-10 06:15 pm (UTC)Glad you enjoyed.
Beautiful
Date: 2007-03-03 06:14 pm (UTC)Re: Beautiful
Date: 2007-03-10 06:18 pm (UTC)I'm glad you enjoyed. This is not the most popular pairing in fandom, so it's been just gleeful to see this kind of response.
no subject
Date: 2007-04-25 12:54 am (UTC)Bra’tac walked into his shadow. The heat on his back had faded into the warmth of the evening long before the edges of his shadow blurred into the night.
This wording right here? Frakking amazing! Awesome way of describing the action and the scene and setting the mood.
I love the teasing back-and-forth battle of words between the two of them. So well done and real and smiley and painful.
And little Teal'c! And this is so powerful - that Teal'c's "Jaffa revenge thing" could have settled so early and the way his mother tried to protect him from himself.
To serve my God, he mentally corrected, wondering at her phrasing, wondering which was the honor and which the price.
Oh, wow. I love the implication that Bra'tac may have learned the seeds of disbelief from Teal'c's mother (who, perhaps, also sewed them in Teal'c)
I love the glimpse into what Bra'tac was like while he was young and ambitious - seeing the beginnings of his later wisdom.
You are definitely awesome.
no subject
Date: 2007-04-25 02:06 am (UTC)So you may imagine the glee it gives me to hear that you liked the phrase that much, because omg, I did too.
I originally thought this story would be all about adolescent Teal'c and Bra'tac as he becomes the father figure Teal'c feels he is, but Meh'rauc just took center stage and commanded attention and really, she told the story much more succintly than Bra'tac and Teal'c would have. Even if I, as the writer, couldn't even keep up with her sometimes.
There is an incredible untold story in how Teal'c, as the banished son of a disgraced First Prime, meets the First Prime of Apophis and together they grow to be the most rebellious, free-thinking slaves the Goa'uld will ever trust. Bra'tac has stated that *he* taught Teal'c to think for himself, that he is disappointed with Teal'c's religious fervour when he's made First Prime. Teal'c has the better reason for doubt, for all that he was only a boy, so to me, the missing link is the rather incredible woman who puts two and two together and launches her boy on a path to greatness despite great sacrifice on her part.
She must have been mesmerizing, don't you think?
I suppose she might have been broken by the loss of her husband and God. I suppose she might have accidentally been honest with her son about why his father died (lost an unwinnable battle? Exiled? Only Teal'c's mother would have had that information to give him.) It is possible that Bra'tac's interest in an exiled Jaffa from another Goa'uld is a coincidence, and I suppose his rebelliousness is also just coincident with Meh'rauc's honesty with her son...
Except no, that's just too many coincidences. I like that the First Primes know too much about their own God's fallacies, but it takes an extraordinary perspective to say, 'no, actually, they're all lying cheating bastards.'
She'd never make the history books, though, not even those written by tptb.
I'm glad you liked them; I'm doubly glad you liked their younger, less sure selves.
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From:absolutely gorgeous
Date: 2007-10-19 04:45 am (UTC)Re: absolutely gorgeous
Date: 2007-10-24 07:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-04-30 01:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-04-30 04:36 pm (UTC)