Chapter Text
M67-435 had one of the most intolerable climates that John had ever been forced to endure. The best word for it was gross; even under a canopied shade, the humid air felt like a wet mouth on his skin, and not in the sexy way, and by the time they’d made the short trek from the Jumper to the nearest village, he and his whole team had stripped down to their undershirts. The real barometer for the shittiness of the whole ordeal was Rodney — for what John was pretty sure was the first time in the history of Atlantis missions, McKay was too exhausted to whine about the heat.
But for a people living in the apparent armpit of the Pegasus galaxy, the Angerions sure knew how to throw a party.
John gratefully accepted an icy cup of…something from one of the rosy cheeked young boys who had run out to guide them the rest of the way to the village. Two of the others sprung off towards a cluster of small buildings on the opposite side of the clearing they’d been ushered into, weaving through the bushels of flowers and whipping strips of dyed cloth that were being fastened to the formation of poles forming the centre of the grassy field. All around, people — men, women, older folks and little kids — were milling around, drinking whatever it was that they’d given his team, helping set up these decorations, stuffing themselves with tiny round cakes that smelled even from here of honey and saffron and made John’s stomach growl. An older man, silver hair already disappeared under a bouquet, was reclining on the grass as he skillfully weaved bursting yellow flowers into the braids of the woman leaning against his knees. A group of girls raced around them, shrieking with laughter as they danced what looked like sparklers through the air. None of them seemed bothered by the heat. The whole place vibrated with a gentle air of laughter.
The energy of it all took John right back to the Fourth of July parties he’d gone to as a kid. He could close his eyes and practically smell the hot dogs cooking. The only thing missing was the booze.
Or maybe not. John took a sip of his drink. Huh. This close to a pińa colada. Not his usual choice, but John wasn’t here to complain. He downed the drink. Beside him, Teyla and Ronon had already done the same. Rodney was still going at it, sucking at the rim of the cup as if it would magically produce more liquid. John hid his smirk and straightened to attention as those three boys returned, pulling a woman along behind them.
The woman was tall. It was the first thing John registered. Almost as tall as him, and elegant in it too; she even made being dragged by the arms by a couple of kiddos look dignified. Her clean shaven head sported the same flowers that seemed to be all the rage here, and her dark arms glistened with bands of stones. She smiled warmly at the four of them, and John sensed Rodney straightening up beside him. He fought not to let the stab of annoyance show on his face. For fuck’s sake, they were here on a trade-mission, not a speed date. Besides, why would Rodney be interested in this woman — she wasn’t even remotely his type!
“I am Telve,” she said. “Welcome to our village. I sense you have travelled a long way.”
John eyed the damp triangle of sweat darkening the back of Rodney’s t-shirt. Yeah, wonder what tipped her off. “You could say that.” He gestured to his team. “I’m Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard. This is Dr McKay, Teyla, and Ronon. We’re just here to make friends.” He flashed her a grin. “Looks like we’ve stumbled onto a bit of a party.”
He caught a glint of white teeth. “Indeed. You have arrived at an auspicious time. It is not often that we are blessed with witnesses to the Joining of Hands.” She beckoned them forward. “Please, come. Make yourselves comfortable.”
John exchanged a look with the others. This better not be another one of those mating rituals. John had seen more than enough stranger-nudity in his lifetime already, thank you very much. “The…Joining of Hands?” Teyla asked as Telve led them back towards the structures she’d emerged from. “Is that some sort of ceremony?”
Telve let out a puzzled laugh. “My, you have travelled far!” They reached a wooden gazebo-looking structure that overlooked the scene of the ceremony. Without needing an invitation, Rodney dropped down onto the shaded cushions blanketing the floor. John and the rest followed suit; his shoulder bumping McKay’s as he settled down. Even in the relative cool of the gazebo, the heat radiating from his skin was dizzying. John was going to be getting an earful about sunburn later, he could already tell. “The Joining of Hands is a sacred ritual amongst our people,” Telve continued as she joined them. “Our village holds it every three years. It is how we discover our Bonded.” Their faces must have been totally blank, because Telve sighed and continued. “Our Bonded are our partners, ordained for us by the gods. They hold the other half of our souls.”
“So….like soulmates,” John concluded. He felt a nudge against his shoulder. Without thinking, he turned. Rodney’s face was pulled taut, teeth worried into his bottom lip; he looked like he was using every ounce of the — very little — self control he had not to burst out laughing right there. John wondered how much of his face could convey don’t be a dick without making a noise.
Rodney cleared his throat, a chuckle already shaking his words. “Okay, well, uh, that’s —“
“A beautiful tradition,” Teyla cut him off with a warning look.”It can be difficult to make room for such a thing when living under fear of the Wraith.”
“It is because of the Wraith that we do this,” Telve said, blinking serenely. “We are not a rich people, Colonel Sheppard, nor are we a warring one. Our Bonded are the best defence we have against those creatures.”
That got Ronon’s attention. Hell, it got all their attention. “What do you mean?”
She smiled like she was sharing the most obvious secret in the world; a parent explaining to their kid why the sun rises and sets. “The Wraith cannot hope to feed on our souls if they are being held by another.” She rose to her feet, smoothing down her robe thoughtlessly like she hadn’t just dropped that cryptic bombshell on them all. “The ceremony will begin in an hour or so,” she said. “Please stay? The gods honour us with guests for a reason. The more who witness the Joining of Hands, the more vibrant the bonds that bloom.”
Well, what the hell was he supposed to say to that? “We wouldn’t miss it,” John said. He waited until Telve had swanned down into the field before turning to the others, incredulity written all over each of their faces. “Well,” he said slowly. “This suddenly got a lot more interesting.”
Evening slid quickly towards them; not that the setting sun even touched the sides of the muggy heat. They’d radioed back to Atlantis to let Elizabeth know that they were gonna stick around for this Joining of Hands ceremony — they still didn’t know what that involved, exactly; John hadn’t ruled out nudity yet, so this had been a long and apprehensive wait. Still, no matter how few clothes were involved, it seemed worth it to develop a good rapport here. The Angerions were already a decent enough trading opportunity in the way of crops, but what John was really interested in was this “Wraith defence” business.
John meandered his way around the length of the ceremonial grove. None of them had found anything that could explain any sort of protection that these people supposedly had; no ZPM, no weapons, no shield, nothing. Splitting up and getting intel out of the villagers was their next bet, but John should’ve known that was a pipe dream. None of them seemed to get why they were confused in the first place. Across the field, Teyla seemed to be putting in one more last ditch effort with one of the village elders, but Rodney had well and truly thrown in the towel; from the looks of it, he was negotiating for more honey cakes.
John sighed, toeing one of the smooth white stones that encircled the edge of the clearing. Of course, the moment they caught wind of a possible way of fighting the Wraith, it turned into a giant game of Cluedo.
“Please be careful, Colonel Sheppard.”
John startled, turning around to see Telve approaching alongside the ring, feet landing carefully beside the pebbles without ever brushing them. She knelt beside John, scooping up the stone he’d nudged out of place and pressing it tenderly against her lips before dropping it back into place, perfectly aligned with the others. “This is the place of those who came before us,” she murmured, running her fingers along their pale backs. “Each stone represents one of the fallen. Every time another is added to this circle, their embrace widens around us.”
John gingerly moved his foot back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise.”
Telve smiled up at him, her smile like a crescent moon in the falling darkness. “No harm done.” John traced the long line that disappeared from view in the thick grass up ahead. There were a lot of stones here.
“So there are, then?” he asked. “Fallen, I mean. You aren’t completely protected from the Wraith.”
Telve hummed under her breath. “There are those who the Wraith have taken from us,” she conceded. “Death is inevitable, but the gods have seen to it that for those of us who are fortunate enough to be Bonded, the Wraith will not get to make that choice for us.”
More riddles. John sighed. “Look, Telve, I gotta be honest,” he said. “I respect your beliefs, I really do, but I’m having a hard time understanding exactly what your gods are doing for you here, with the whole Bonded, soul sharing...thing.” He gesticulated helplessly.
Telve tilted her head. “I suppose it is quite a thing to comprehend for one who has not been enlightened by the gods,” she said thoughtfully. “For my people and I, this is simply how things have always been. My Bonded lives in me, and I live in him, and within each other the Wraith cannot reach us.” She turned her head towards the treeline -- just peeking through the branches, they could see that the sun had just brushed the horizon. “Come,” she said. “The ceremony is about to begin. I think seeing it for yourself will help your understanding a great deal.”
John shrugged, and they headed back towards the centre, this time both of them taking care to step over the stone ring without disturbing any of them. Whatever it was that they had been erecting when he and his team had first gotten here had been completed: six wooden poles stood in a rough hexagonal pattern, with what looked like a teepee in the middle, a central pole framed with that same fluttering cloth from before, threaded with flowers. Each outlying pole was linked to the centre by a long thread of carefully strung clay pots, each filled with a brightly burning candle that illuminated the grass below with a warm wash of light.
It was pretty beautiful, to be honest.
At each of the outer six poles, John saw a small gathering of people. Some of them were young and fresh faced, others bent over with age. Telve noticed him looking and nodded warmly in their direction. “They are our Chosen for tonight,” she explained.
“Some of ‘em look a little old, don’t you think?”
“We never know when we will be chosen to be Bonded,” Telve said. “Some of us take almost a lifetime to be ready.” Pressing her shoulder close to his, Telve cast a look across the field with what looked like an almost conspiratorial smile. “You are one of the lucky ones. It seems you have already found your...soulmate, as you call it.”
John followed her gaze, and almost burst out laughing when they reached her focus. Teyla and Rodney were still standing on the far side. Rodney had apparently succeeded in his honey cake mission — even from here, John could see the way the stickiness had clung to his fingers and mouth; his lips were shining under the candlelight. He could hear Teyla’s quiet laugh over Rodney’s grumbling complaints, saw her offer him her water bottle. “Oh, uh—” John grinned, shaking his head. “No, you’ve got the wrong idea here, Telve. Teyla’s great. I mean, it’s a hell of a compliment that you think we’re…but no, she and I are just friends.”
Telve’s lip twitched wryly. “I was referring to Dr McKay.”
“Um,” John said intelligently. He threw out a hand to halt her. “You — What?”
“I sensed it the moment you two arrived in the village,” she said nonchalantly, stopping without protest.
John shook his head dumbly as his mind tumbled. “Listen, that’s not…” He fumbled for the words to explain why he and Rodney McKay wouldn’t, couldn’t, shouldn’t ever be soulmates. “I don’t know what you sensed, exactly, but McKay and I aren’t —“ Gay , he was about to say, but the word died in his throat as he realised that he didn’t actually know what Rodney’s deal was. He knew he liked women, obviously, he’d made that abundantly clear on a few to many occasions, but men as well? It was something that John had never gotten up the nerve to ask.
Not that it mattered to him. And not like that was even the point here. The point was…it was…
Telve did her signature head tilt again. It was an unnerving little thing, like she thought John was maybe a little simple but was too polite to say anything about it. “You care about him, do you not?” she pressed.
Of course I do , was another thing that John didn’t say, because that wasn’t how they did things. He didn’t need to say that he enjoyed spending time with McKay more than he let on, or that he actually enjoyed hearing him ramble on about physics and having stupid arguments with him over nothing, or that during their offworld missions there was always a small portion of his mind that was constantly aware of where McKay was at all time. He didn’t need to say it because what did it matter? He cared about the people he worked with; it was as simple as that. “I — he’s a part of my team,” John did say. That didn’t seem to satisfy Telve all that much. “Look,” John said, and laughed again, a forced one this time. “Trust me, if you knew us, you’d know how — funny , it is that you think that McKay and I are, uh…y’know.”
“Ah,” Telve said, not sounding very convinced. “Well then I suppose I must get to know you better then, shall I?” She slipped her arm through his, leading them once again towards the growing crowd of people. John stiffened, just a little — how many times had he gone through this and still not seen it coming? — but Telve, maybe sensing the words of polite extrication forcing their way into his mouth, gave him a playful wink. “This is customary between friends among my people,” she whispered. “Do not worry, Colonel, my soul’s other half belongs to my Onis.” She nodded once more across the field, this time towards another Angerion with dark, heavy curls and bright playful eyes helping to ready the Chosen. “And I would never presume to intervene in the course the gods have already chosen for you.” Before John had a chance to respond to that, she continued. “We do not want to miss this. Let us return you to your…team.”
Telve deposited John by Rodney and Teyla, and Ronon, who had found his way back to them, before disappearing into the flurry of bodies and voices. John very carefully placed himself next to Ronon’s bulk, absorbing himself fully in what was unfolding in front of them and not looking McKay’s way once. It didn’t stop Rodney from speaking, though; nothing ever did.
“So,” he said snidely. His arms were crossed tightly against his chest. “What were you two, uh, chatting about ?”
John blinked. He imagined himself telling Rodney about the whole conversation. “Hey McKay, guess what? Telve just told me that we’re apparently destined to be together forever!” They could have a good laugh about it.
“Uh.” John cleared his throat. “Rocks.”
Rodney raised his eyebrows. “Rocks,” he echoed. “Sure.”
“Shh,” Teyla admonished. “It’s beginning.”
Teyla didn’t have to tell them. The whole circle had quieted into something like bated breath. Then, Telve stepped forward. The flowers on her head were now resting over a purple veil that trailed all the way to her feet. The silence reached an almost eerie pitch as she raised her arms slowly, slowly, above her head — and then she opened her mouth to sing.
John had heard Teyla sing before, and this took him right back to that. There was something in the carrying, haunting notes that you just didn’t get back on earth. The words weren’t English, or any other language that they’d come across in their missions, but they settled comfortingly over them anyway. As the music swelled, one of the people standing around the pole nearest to them, a girl who looked around sixteen, stepped forward. Her eyes were closed, and she swayed as she walked, to Telve’s song or to something inside her own mind. A few seconds later, a boy about the same age from one of the other poles followed suit. They disappeared inside the ribbon tent in the centre. As the flaps shut behind them, the music stopped — then, after a minute or so, they stepped out again, hands intertwined, and the singing started up again like an exhale.
Alright, so it looked like they’d be getting through this without nudity. Thank god.
This happened again and again. Two young men, then an older couple, even two girls who could’ve only been around twelve. The music rose and fell, the candles flickered, and the people gathered around the poles slowly dropped until there were only a couple of people left. John wasn’t sure when exactly it happened, but at some point within it all, he found himself looking at Rodney. He was watching the ceremony, unexpectedly wrapt, eyes following the movements of the people across the field. He was still in his undershirt, beads of sweat lining his brow and creeping their way down to his jaw. The sweat had worked its way into his hair too; it stuck up in a wiry mess. Under the coppery light of the candles, it gleamed. He looked kinda ridiculous. He looked…
John looked away, mouth dry, before Rodney turned and caught his eye. From the other side of the field, he swore he could feel Telve smiling at him.
They were offered quarters for the night in the inner village, since by the time the ceremony had ended the night had dropped dark and fast; any attempts to push through all that dense jungle without proper light would’ve ended in a whole lot of sprained ankles. And of course, John and Rodney were roomed together, because John wasn’t gonna be given one moment of peace on this entire mission, apparently. Rodney was down and snoring before John had even pulled his shoes off, and once he got settled in bed — a straw mattress on the floor, thin, lumpy, and only an arm’s reach from Rodney’s — he didn’t have time to consider whether the villagers had any ulterior motives in these sleeping arrangements before he drifted off too.
He dreamed of Rodney.
It wasn’t the first time that had happened — all of his team were regular features in his dreams, and Rodney especially so. Rodney solving some impossible problem, Rodney being fed on by the Wraith, Rodney riding on the back of a Spanish speaking space whale to come to John’s rescue — yeah, that had been a weird one. There had been…other dreams too, once or twice. John tried not to think about them too much. Your brain liked to fuck with you when you were constantly living through high stress situations, and talking to the same few people everyday only added fuel to his imagination’s crackpot fire.
This dream was different, though. He and Rodney were standing in the tent from the ceremony. The ribbons wrapped around them, draping over Rodney’s broad shoulders and tangling in John’s hair. The heat was overwhelming; mixed with the sickly sweet scent of honey. Outside, the song was getting louder — it set John’s teeth on edge. Not Telve’s voice, but something underneath it, an uncanny buzzing that reminded John of swarms of bees. Or Wraith darts.
Rodney didn’t seem too worried, though. He was fidgeting with one of the flowers that had dropped off of the roof of the tent. John noticed one of the petals, a bleeding red, had landed on Rodney’s hair. He plucked it off, and it shrivelled in the heat between his palms.
“Huh,” Rodney said. He tipped his head back to look at a single lantern burning above their heads. A trail of sweat ran down his neck. John watched the bob of his throat, and he couldn’t speak. “Bit of a fire hazard, don’t you think?” Rodney asked, and John couldn’t say a word.
When he woke up, John’s heart was pounding and his back was slick with sweat. He could taste on his tongue the sudden, overpowering craving for honey. He didn’t get any sleep the rest of the night.