He lets himself look, because there is no reason not to do so. The Sacrifice
is tonight. Tomorrow, there will be no consequences of his desire.
Sheppard is like no man he has ever seen. Each of the visitors is unusual, of course,
cloaked in their air of easy immortality. But Sheppard is strikingly different. He
moves like a warrior, yet he speaks peace and hope at every turn. Physically, he is
taller than most any of the men Keras has ever met, lean but solid in a way that he
is not used to seeing. There are lines at the corners of Sheppard's eyes and across
the tops of his cheeks. He looks worn and aged, yet somehow incredibly vital, as if he
has more substance and power that Keras has ever had in his own body.
And Keras cannot stop looking.
He has been taught that temptation and selfishness may rear their ugly heads as Sacrifice
nears. He has always striven to overcome his own flaws, to know himself so that he might
do as his people need him to do. But oh, he never imagined that temptation would come in
this form.
It is easy to brush aside Sheppard's kind words, begging him to find a way to overcome
the Sacrifice. They are only words, no matter how they stir the longing in his heart. It
is only when Keras realizes that Sheppard and his friends are in danger from Ares' fervor
and their own stubbornness that he risks it all. In a few short hours, Sheppard has passed
from object of fascination to forbidden fantasy to someone he'd like to consider a friend.
So it's easier than he'd ever imagined it could be to step between Sheppard and the arrow.
Time blurs after that. There are running footsteps, and Ares backs down. Sheppard barks
out orders, and then there are hands on him. It's cold and burning hot, and his vision grays
out just as he sees Sheppard's eyes right in front of his face, dark with concern.
When he comes back to himself, at first he thinks he has made the transition. The pain is
gone, and the sky above him glows strangely.
"He is waking." He knows that voice–a woman's soft, gentle voice, firm and confident, but he
can't place it.
"We need to do this fast. Do you have the pressure bandage ready, McKay?" And that one, the
voice of his unknown dreams. Keras tries to open his eyes, but they're already open.
"Just do it."
"You're not going to faint on me, are you?" There's humor there. Keras wants to smile
though he doesn't know the joke.
"Oh, ha ha. Are you ever going to let that go?"
"Not just yet, Rodney. Okay, here we go."
And there's the pain. He curls upward, or at least he tries to. Strong arms hold him
down, tied to the ground, the odd-colored sky out of reach.
The second time, he knows that he is still alive. That he has not made the Sacrifice, and
that he will not do so.
"Beckett should take a look at this."
Someone scoffs. "Just try getting him here."
"I do not believe the villagers would welcome another stranger at this time."
The voices go on, and eventually the haze fades. Keras struggles to sit up, and Teyla eases
him forward with strong hands. The motion burns through his shoulder, across his chest and
into his throat, but he needs to know what has happened.
Ares and his faithful are gathered on the other side of the small fire pit, looking sullen
and uncertain--but quiescent. He doesn't see Sheppard or McKay anywhere, but Teyla and Ford
look relaxed enough that he is not worried.
"Here," Ford says. "The major said to set you up with this once you woke up."
Ford slips a white strap behind Keras' neck, then settles a cloth the brightest blue he has
ever seen across his chest. Keras breathes through more pain as Ford settles his arm into the
odd sling.
"There. How's that?"
He looks up from his study, taken once again by the kindness of these people. "Good, thank you."
Ford smiles and nods, then steps away to tidy up their makeshift camp. Keras can see the way
he studies the ring of villagers with every careful motion. He sighs, hoping that this
distrust will pass with time.
Time, which he has now.
"Are you in pain?" Teyla bends closer to him, hands hovering over his chest. "Perhaps the
sling is not adjusted correctly."
He shakes his head. "No, I am fine, thank you." He hesitates, but her eyes are kind and
worried. "You know Sheppard well, don't you?"
She ducks her head, as if it's a difficult question. "He is a friend," she says at last.
"May I ask you something?" His heart beats faster, and his chest aches again as his hands
curl into fists.
"I do not know if I can answer, but I will try."
His mouth is dry, but it has been since he awoke. The injury and whatever they did to
still the pain make him feel off-balance, but perhaps that is also what is giving him the
courage to pursue this. Or perhaps it is the reckless feeling that has been growing since
Sheppard arrived in the village.
"Do you think he would be interested in a partnership with me?"
Teyla smiles at him, and he can't help smiling back. "I believe he already considers your
people allies."
He shakes his head. "No, I mean a personal arrangement between the two of us. It is normal
among us, once we no longer wish to have young, to find someone to ease our needs. Does he
have someone already?"
Teyla sits back, eyes widening before she glances over her shoulder. He knows the answer
before she draws breath. "I am sorry," she says, and he tells himself it's unimportant. "But
I do not believe he would be interested. He has other...commitments that would make it
impossible."
Keras smiles anyway, thankful for her honesty. Thankful that he did not have to see the
rejection in Sheppard's own eyes.
He still cannot stop looking at the man once he returns, however. Sheppard and McKay are
side by side, talking about something as Casta and Cleo trail them. Sheppard is just as
oddly beautiful, but there is a lightness to him that wasn't there before.
Keras stops looking. Now, he sees.