Mehr'auc is cool. I mean, she raised a rebel with honor. How do you raise a revolutionary like that, strong of heart and spirit and clear eyed? That had to be an extraordinary woman, particularly given the quality of woman that Teal'c has always been drawn to.
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.
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branchandroot
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.