Fandom: Stargate Atlantis/Game of Thrones
Pairing: Ronon Dex/Daenerys Targaryen
Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing.
Summary: The Wraith has been after her precious dragon blood for so long, Dany begins to doubt that she will ever escape them. But Ronon Dex vows to protect her and he will do anything to keep her safe.
I have absolutely no idea if anyone was actually interested in this when I kept talking about it but here it is. Please read, comment and enjoy!
Chapter One – Intuition to be Ignored
"You are distracted," Teyla Emmagan exhaled after she had struck him for the fourth time within a matter of minutes with the bantos rods, this time on the side of his face by his eyebrow.
Specialist Ronon Dex shook his head, closing his eyes, and he bent forward, bracing his hands on his knees. His head spun. "I'm fine," he grunted. Teyla was silent and he could feel her eyes on him, waiting because she knew that he wasn't. He sometimes hated how well she knew him. Sheppard thought he did and for the most part, he understood the barest, simplest parts of him, but it was Teyla who truly knew him – whether he wanted her to or not.
He straightened, exhaling a heavy sigh, and he shook the heavy dreads from his face. "I'm fine," he repeated but she kept staring at him, raising one perfectly arched eyebrow. "What? It's not like you've never hit me before," he pointed out to her.
"But we spar because we are equals. It is not enjoyable for me if I beat you because your mind is some place else," she responded. She turned and went to the bench, setting down the bantos rods and picking up a bottle of water. She looked back to him. "Tell me," she then said, sitting down, wiping a towel along the back of her neck.
He hesitated for a moment and then with a heavy sigh, he trudged over to the bench, dropping down next to her. He leaned forward, his arms on his knees, and he stared ahead, spinning one of the rods mindlessly in his hand. "The mission this afternoon… I've got a bad feeling about it," he admitted. He turned his head back to look at her.
She was looking at him, his words clearly having surprised her. Ronon was never one to express "inklings" such as this. He was always the first to through the gate, the first to lead, the first to shoot, the first to scowl when John instructed him to set his weapon to stun. When John presented them with their next mission, Ronon was always silent, following orders like his years of serving in the military had trained him to. Even when the rest of the team experienced certain feelings of unease on the occasional planets – and on all of them for Rodney – Ronon was always the silent one.
"May I ask why?" Teyla finally found her voice to ask.
He shrugged, looking away, his eyes fixed on an unknown point across the sparring room. "Don't know," he grunted.
"Surely, there must be a reason."
"Don't call me surely," he smirked.
"You have been watching too many movies with Colonel Sheppard," she teased him.
"I think I miss the point with most of them," he straightened, bringing his shoulders back, feeling a kink between them. "That man finds the weirdest things funny."
Her lips quirked in a smile but then her eyes turned stern. "Don't change the subject. Tell me. What has gotten you to feel apprehension?" She asked.
She understood him and Ronon was not much of a talker. And he was not the type of person that could be forced into a conversation he did not want to have. But certain times, she ignored this about him and poked and prodded until he opened up. She was probably the only one who could do such a thing and get away with it. John constantly warned her about poking sleeping dragons but she did not understand the metaphor.
"M2X-322," she nodded.
He gave her a look though. "You know it's real name."
She swallowed and then sighed softly. "I do not believe the stories."
It was his turn to raise an eyebrow. Teyla was always the one to listen to legends and stories and rumors that planet elders had started and passed down to be heard by all. Ronon was always the one to scoff at them as did Rodney. It was one of the few things the two usually agreed on.
"You do, however?" She ventured carefully.
"I don't know. Westeros and Sateda were at war with each other, years before I was born," he added. "Years before anyone I knew was born. But it was always talked about. Sateda is a planet of warriors but Westeros, they fought us long and hard and were difficult to defeat."
"You think that upon visiting Westeros and they find out you're from Sateda-" Teyla tried to understand.
"If Westeros is anything like Sateda, their people hold grudges," Ronon stood up, feeling anxious, feeling the need to move and do something. He began swinging the bantos rods as he walked back onto the blue mats spread out on the floor.
"Even if they're not their own grudges to hold?" Teyla stood up as well.
"Especially if they're not their own grudges," Ronon nodded, swinging at the air.
"And what of the dragons?" Teyla asked and Ronon stopped suddenly, the rods frozen, suspended in their movements. She carefully approached. "Do you believe those stories?"
"They're not stories," he shook his head, his back remaining towards her. "They may not be around anymore but they were. They destroyed cities on my planet during the war." Teyla was quiet – too quiet – and he turned to face her. He was not sure why he even mentioned any of this. He knew how it sounded. Dragons? He sounded ridiculous even allowing himself to speak the word out loud. Even after everything they had seen and fought, dragons seemed impossible to grasp. He sighed heavily. "I think you hit me on the head harder than I thought," he smirked and her mouth melted into a gentle smile.
The doors to the sparring room slid open and John Sheppard entered, already dressed in his black fatigues, TAC vest and he held his Micro 16 assault rifled in one hand. "Rodney is annoying the hell out of me," he frowned. "Apparently, this planet has some sort of amazing energy reading and he's already in the gate room, pestering me about you two to hurry up and get a move on."
"We still have another two hours before we are scheduled to leave," Teyla told him.
"You can tell Rodney that. I'm not talking to him anymore. I might shoot him," John said with a heavy frown. He looked to Ronon. "You probably shouldn't talk to him, either."
Ronon smirked but remained silent, beginning to spin the bantos rods in the air again.
He tried to ignore the weight of lead in the pit of his stomach. He tried to tell himself that it was just nerves for the upcoming mission – though he was never one to experience such a feeling before going through the gate – no matter the destination. He wasn't sure what this was. It wasn't just the turbulent past between Westeros and his own planet or the stories that Westeros had dragons and if anyone would have an unfortunate run-in with the creatures, it would be the SGA-1 team. No, this was something else; something he couldn't place and something he couldn't shake.
He tried not to think about it anymore though. The team needed him to be focused.
Pentos, Westeros Planet
Daenerys Targaryen closed her eyes against the gentle, cool wind as she stood on the balcony outside her room that overlooked the narrow sea. She could not shake this feeling. Something was coming. Good or bad, however, was what she couldn't decipher. She just knew something was on its way.
The warning blew to her in the wind that danced across her skin and she wasn't sure what it could be. Things had been quiet and peaceful for so long that to feel this after going without it, it startled and scared her. She tried to think of what could be the cause of it.
"Khaleesi," Jhiqui, her maid servant, stepped out onto the balcony behind her. "Your bath is drawn. And the magister is on his way to see you."
Dany turned and struggled to form a smile to the woman who had been with her since her days spent with the Dothraki people. She was loyal and along with the other Dothraki servant, Doreah, they were the closest to friends that the young woman had in her life.
"Did Illyrio state his purpose?" She asked and Jhiqui shook her head.
"Only that he must speak with you," she answered.
Dany suppressed a sigh. She hadn't wanted to return to Illyrio Mopatis or to Pentos but after Drogo… her Drogo… she had had little choices left remaining. She was Daenerys Targaryen, Stormborn, dragon, and Khaleesi of the Dothraki – she was stronger than anyone had ever thought her to be. But with the death of her beloved and the Wraith forces seemingly unstoppable in their pursuit of her, she had been forced to run and hide like a coward she detested. Her brother's old ally, the magister of Pentos, had offered her shelter and it had been with great reluctance that she had accepted.
Her fingers curled around the small bell she wore constantly around her neck. It had been one of the small bells that had tinkled in Drogo's long braid and she had removed it before his body had been burned. She wore it on a silver chain, never taking it off, and she squeezed it now, silently asking it to give her strength.
There was a knock upon the heavy door and then she heard a murmur of voices. A moment later, Doreah stepped out onto the balcony, standing next to Jhiqui.
"Magister Illyrio, Khaleesi," she announced and Dany closed her eyes for a moment before she straightened her shoulders and marched with purpose back into the bedchamber. The rotund man stood, waiting, and he breathed heavily, sweat forming above his upper lip. He seemed anxious, his fingers twitching.
"I have been told that the ancient ring has been activated, Daenerys," he informed her bluntly. "Strangers are going to be arriving here within the hour."
"Wraith?" She stiffened but even as Illyrio shook his head, she did not allow her body to relax.
"I do not know who they are but I suggest you take to hide in the north tower for the time being," he suggested but she knew it was to be taken as an order. "They might be harmless but we can't be too careful."
Daenerys did not speak but she nodded, turning to Doreah and Jhiqui. "It seems that my bath will have to wait. Gather the eggs," she told them and they hurried off. She looked back to Illyrio. She did not care for the man but she knew that his man had put himself in harm's way by harboring her and she would never get over the guilt if anything was to happen to him because of her. "Magister, if the strangers are not a threat, please come and inform me. I will act as lady of the house during their visit," she said.
Illyrio made the slightest incline of his head towards her. "I hope to fetch you soon."
She nodded and she realized that her fingers were still clutched tightly around the bell. Activity at the gate was rare. So rare, in fact, she couldn't remember the last time anyone had activated it. She imagined Illyrio had men already done there, watching the strange visitors carefully without their knowledge.
Was this what the pull in her stomach had been warning her about? The gate visitors? Was she supposed to fear them? She wished things were clearer. Everything lately had been so muddled in front of her, she was never certain anymore of which way to turn.
She looked back towards the balcony and the sheer curtains fluttering in the soft breeze and the tranquil smooth surface of the deep blue narrow sea. The stone sank heavier in her stomach.
Something was coming?
Something was here.