Her breathing was labored as she paced the small area where she and Ronon slept, clenching her jaw in frustration and anxiety as she planned her next course of action. The slave drivers had left Ronon in his shackles all afternoon and he was still there when Teyla had passed by earlier. The sight of the flies making a feast of his torn flesh turned her stomach and she couldn’t eat her meal. No one had treated his wounds and she suspected that they planned on leaving him hanging as a warning after making an example of him.

She could escape the barracks through the same loose board as Ronon had the night before. If she could free him then they might stand a chance... yet injured as he was she knew travel was next to impossible. At the least she could get him water and tend to his injuries.

When the door was locked for the night she lay down, feigning sleep until the others had dozed off and she would be free to slip out unnoticed. Before the opportunity came, however, the doors were unlocked and a man with a lantern stepped in. He pointed to the open space beside the Athosian and two men dragged Ronon in. She forced herself to remain calm as they dropped his limp form into the dirt before leaving to lock the door again.

Her heart was racing and as soon as their footsteps faded she turned to Ronon, only able to see the outline of his flank as he’d landed on a hip. She felt for his pulse then gently shook his shoulder, whispering his name. “Ronon?”

There was no response and her guts twisted anxiously as she realized that he was unconscious. His skin was cold, kissed by the freezing night air. She wanted to wrap her arms around him to share her body heat but didn’t know how since all of his back was wounded. Instead she wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging his head against her chest as she began to quietly weep, his slow yet steady pulse beneath her arm and the rise and fall of his chest the only reminder that he yet lived.

She eventually drifted into a light sleep but was awakened sometime in the night when he groaned softly and tried to shift his weight. She leaned her face in close to his. “Ronon?” He sighed out another groan and she brushed her fingers across his cheek, quietly calling his name again.

He spent a moment swallowing before he made a quiet sound, letting her know that he could hear her.

Her face split into a grin as she rested her hand on his cheek, kissing his parched lips that felt so lifeless compared to the night before. “I am right here.”

His breath wheezed for a moment as he struggled to speak. When he did, his voice was a hoarse, croaked whisper. “Where are we?”

Her heart dipped a little at the question but she kept her voice hopeful. “We are in our sleeping barracks. They brought you here a while ago.”

He sighed then winced as his back spasmed.

She ran her fingers soothingly along his cheek, resting the tip of her nose against his, her throat tightening over his obvious pain. “...I am so sorry, Ronon. I do not know how to help you.”

He opened his eyes yet when he couldn’t see her he let them slide shut once more, knowing by how much he had to struggle to remain coherent that there wasn’t much she could do even under better circumstances. The only healer he now had was time. “...Just don’t let go.”

Her mouth contorted as a silent sob strained her throat and she kissed his dry lips once more, running her fingers through what was left of his hair. “I will not.”

He was quiet for a while after that, struggling to maintain his train of thought and focus. “...I failed.”

She shook her head even though he couldn’t see her. “You did your best. We had to try.”

“I couldn’t leave you.”

She ran her thumb along his cheekbone.

He exhaled a ragged breath, shivering a little. “I buried the body... I tried to leave but I couldn’t leave you here.”

She furrowed her brow. “You came back?”

“I couldn’t leave you...”

She hugged him to her weeping heart as new tears slid down her cheeks, guilt stirring her stomach. She was the reason he had been caught.

Ronon was in a deep sleep when Teyla was forced to let him go as she left to work in the fields. She watched the driver’s expression as the slaves filed past. He glanced to Ronon then back to the passing slaves and Teyla knew that Ronon would receive no help from those in power.

She thought about him constantly as she worked, desperately seeking means to help him heal with what few resources she had. The possibility of escape was nearly forgotten as she focused on keeping him alive after the torture that he’d endured. She was able to hide some bread in her pocket during the evening meal and instead of returning her bowl to the barrel full of dirty dishes, she slipped it under her shirt and detoured to the water troughs on her way to the barracks, cleaning it out then filling it with water. Most of the drivers were lounging around chatting and smoking so she wasn’t bothered as she carried it back to her sleeping quarters.

As far as she knew, no one yet suspected any foul play in Jenkins’ disappearance. She only prayed that, as time wore on, fewer and fewer people would even remember her being seen with him and any suspicion of her would diminish.

Ronon was still lying on his side as she had left him that morning. She set the bowl of water down then crouched by his side, peering at his back. Dirt from the ground was sticking to his wounds closest to it and the flesh around the injuries had swollen. A clear liquid was coating the lash marks, the excess slipping down his sides. White fringed some of the wounds and what skin that was left was an angry red. She couldn’t imagine how to begin to treat such an injury but instead hoped to help his body regain as much strength as possible to heal itself.

She brushed her fingers across his forehead, furrowing her brow at the heat that had seeped into his flesh as his body temperature rose. She gently shook his shoulder and called his name a few times to rouse him, and at length he blinked his eyes open, looking to her with muted recognition, the light greens of his eyes glassy with fever. She smiled in greeting. “How are you feeling?”

He sighed, moving his arm slightly.

She brushed a few stray, curling hairs off his forehead. “I have brought you some food and water.”

He flopped his hand towards hers and held it, closing his eyes. “...S’okay.”

She licked her lips and shook her head as his eyes slipped shut again. “No, Ronon, you must drink.” He didn’t respond so she slid her hand from his and pressed it to his cheek to get his attention once more. “If you can sit up a little I will help you.”

He cracked his eyes open once more and groaned quietly as she lifted his head. She tried to help him hold himself more upright but his body was floppy and dead weight so she settled for supporting his head and pressing the bowl to his lips. Though it took the rest of the hour they had before night fell, she managed to help him drink the entire bowl of water and eat some of the bread which she softened with the water.

She lay down beside him with a sigh, resting his temple on her shoulder as she brushed the dirt off the side of his cheek that had been resting on the ground. She closed her eyes, kissing his clammy brow before relaxing her body to sleep, assuming he was asleep once more. As such he surprised her with his quiet rasp. “Thank you, Teyla.”

She smiled and began to run her fingers through his short stumps of hair. “You are welcome.”

He brought his hand up to limply rest on her abdomen and she placed her free hand over his. She ran her thumb in comforting strokes across his knuckles. The water had helped his voice gain strength and he wasn’t quite as hoarse when he spoke again. “Thank Sheppard for me,” he trailed off as he exhaled deeply and she looked to what she could see of his furrowed brow in the dimming light. “...And McKay and Weir.”

She tried to look him in the eye. “What for?”

It took a few breaths before he answered. “For giving me a chance.”

“Ronon,” her voice was firm. “Do not speak as if you are dying.”

There was a whimper in his voice. “I feel like I am.”

“But you are not. You have been injured, nothing more. You can easily survive this. You have been through much worse before.”

He let out a quivering breath, his hand twitching in hers.

She blinked back tears at how weak his hand was in her own. “And you have such incredible strength of spirit, Ronon. To have endured what you have in your lifetime yet to still be able to trust others is nothing short of remarkable.”

“...I held you hostage.”

She smiled a little as a tear escaped, remembering their first meeting when Ronon had been ready to attack anyone if he had to. But time with those who came to be his friends had helped calm him, reminding him of the gentleness yet left in the world. “I understand why and in hindsight it was a wise decision. All ended well, did it not?”

He was quiet for a moment as he breathed. “I trusted your eyes.”

She smiled again and kissed his heated forehead.

He sighed, his voice weakening once more. “I love you, Teyla.”

She felt a heat blossom in her chest and soar up past her spine, flushing out on the back of her neck and blushing her cheeks. The corners of her lips arched in a heartsmile as her breath hitched in her chest. Her voice shook a little when she responded. “...And I love you.” Her throat tightened with tears and she swallowed hard, firming her voice. “We must hold onto that for it is something that no one can ever take away. Ever.” He weakly squeezed her hand again and she ran her fingers through his hair, wishing she could help free him from the agony of his heated skin. “You should rest now.” She squeezed his hand. “I am right here.”

He took a deep breath and shakily let it out. His breathing slowly evened as she continued to gently massage his sticky scalp, silently praying to whatever gods that be to help him heal and to aid their rescue, for though she knew he had reserves of strength not yet tapped, the limpness of his body beside hers was enough to prompt more than a few terrified tears.

Branded Heart

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