Music Fic: The Witch of the Westmorland
Monday, October 20th, 2008 11:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
delphia2ohohohYeah, I hate music fics too, but I just love this song and I love Stan Rogers who sang it and it just grew into a plot bunny. Behind the cut to hide the shame.
The Witch of the Westmorland
By delphia
Stargating again with SGA
No particular spoilers, probably after season 3
Rated PG for sexual implications
Not beta read for the usual reasons
~~*~~
He’d been possessed by a Gou’ald once, which would be enough to bring anyone nightmares, but when he closed his eyes to sleep at night, it wasn’t to dream about being trapped in a body that no longer obeyed him. Instead, he dreamt of a silver-haired witch who did things to him that hovered somewhere between pain and ecstasy and when he woke, there was always a longing that was never fully satisfied.
He shouldn’t have been on the damn planet in the first place, but the Kovans wanted to meet the commander of the ship that would be picking up their naquadah ore shipments if the negotiations were to be successful. He gated through to Kovan in spite of knowing Sheppard’s team attracted trouble like dogs attract fleas. Why wouldn’t the Genii, who were supposedly allies, show up to crash the party with guns and threats? They couldn’t know how to best use the copious supply of ore, but they could use it as a bargaining chip with the Lanteans, so there they were, recklessly spraying bullets in a bid for dominance. He caught a ricochet just as the Team made it to the safety of the mountains, led by the Kovan miners.
It wasn’t deep or immediately life-threatening, but gut wounds were prone to infection and it was painfully hampering his ability to run or even walk for that matter. “Just once I’d like to be stuck with your team when negotiations call for ritual sex instead of mayhem,” he grumped, gripping a ragged-barked tree trunk to help lower himself to sit between its roots.
Sheppard diplomatically pretended to buy his flippant act while pulling an aid kit from his pack. “Sometimes we vary it with actual successful negotiations just for the hell of it.”
Caldwell pulled his shirt aside and let him pack the wound. “No,” he said quickly when Sheppard pulled out a syringe. “That will make me groggy. I need to be alert.”
“We’re going to have to move from here soon and a little pain killer will go a long way to help us keep moving, Colonel.”
Without waiting, Sheppard jabbed the needle in anyway and things got a little fuzzy from then on. He remembered Teyla passing her binocs to Sheppard, pointing to where the Genii had set up camp beside the Gate, waiting for their return. All they needed now was some rain to make the day perfectly miserable.
After a huddled conference with the Kovans, the team gathered around him. Sheppard explained, “They’ll send a MALP thru when we don’t answer the check in and once they see the Genii, they’ll send your ship to pick us up. Can’t take more than a day or so. Meantime, the miners have a safe place for us to stay and, well, kind of a doctor for you…”
“A witch doctor,” McKay interrupted. “Not that all doctors aren’t mostly witch doctors anyway, but this one is actually, apparently, a real witch. Or so they say.”
Caldwell couldn’t help the small groan of dismay that escaped, followed up with a couple of random curse words he would later blame on the drugs.
“She is legendary among my people,” Teyla told him, “and even though she usually only treats children, we think we can persuade her to help you.”
“Look, I know what you’re thinking and you don’t have to let her do anything if you don’t want to. It’s just that we’ve found some mighty unusual things in this galaxy that sound like magic and generally turn out to be Ancient Tech, so maybe she’s just got one of those healing devices they left laying around. Anyway, it’s a safe place according to the Kovans, so I think we should go before those Genii scouts find us.”
With Ronon on one side and one of the taller Kovans on his other, he staggered after the little party and let the drugs lull him into a walking sleep. Even in his half-conscious state, he could tell the lush mountain valley where they stopped was well positioned for defense besides being beautifully peaceful. All the Kovans were seasonal nomads, living in sturdy tents that resembled Mongolian Yurts. They let him rest under a shady tree while arrangements were made for staying the night. Eyes closed and almost asleep, he heard the woman before he saw her. “I do not treat the fully grown. Only children,” she was insisting.
“We understand that you must conserve your powers for the neediest of your people, but this man is a leader among our people,” Teyla persuaded. “It is critical to the negotiations of peaceful trade between us that he is returned in good health.”
“You do not understand. There are dangers and costs to be paid.”
The woman’s voice was deep and husky, almost like a man’s. Caldwell expected to see a hefty and aged crone, but was surprised to see the middle-aged woman who stood over him as he forced his eyes open. Dressed in thin layers that didn’t hide her sturdy figure, there were some character lines in her face, but her hair was a fine silver blonde like a toddler’s.
“We’ll pay whatever you want,” Sheppard said.
She gave Sheppard a withering look. “You will not be the one to pay.”
Kneeling down next to him, she peeked under the bandages and then ran a surprisingly soft hand over his forehead. “Fever begins. However, you might survive without my help. What do you say, man from the Sacred Ring?”
Her deep night-colored eyes seemed to grow larger and they were all he could see as the rest of reality blurred around them. Her lips moved so he was sure she spoke aloud, but it resonated in his head with an odd stereo-like effect. “Would you ride the fates or would you ask healing of me?”
His mouth felt dry so he licked his lips before asking, “What’s this ‘cost’ you mentioned?”
She spoke quietly, obviously for his hearing only. “You will never be able to forget me. Nor I you. In healing the young, there is only the bond of family. But if I place my hands on you and heal your wound, it will leave a piece of me in you. I have no wish to send a part of me away, but for the sake of my people, I give much. I will do this thing for them if it is what you wish.”
“I’ll be healed?”
She nodded.
“I’m not ready to die. Not like this.”
It seemed a small price to pay at the time. She stood and gestured to her tribe members who helped him up and into a tent at the furthest end of the camp. They left him on a pallet while she made preparations he was too tired to watch. He let the drugs and the scent of the incense that burned in her tent lull him to a drowsy half-sleep. She brought him water to drink and then, lying next to him, she put her hand over his bandage and closed her eyes. He could see the glow beneath her hands. It reminded him of the reports he’d read about SG1’s experience with Ancient Healing. It also occurred to him the glow was the same color of the neon sign at the bar he hung out in while he was assigned to Japan. It almost made him laugh and he thought perhaps he was getting giddy from the blood loss or maybe it was just the incense.
He was certain it was giddiness that made him think he heard Sheppard and McKay entertaining the village with an a cappella duet of ‘The Lion Sleeps Tonight.’ Their similar tenor tones blended harmoniously as Teyla and Ronan supplied the ‘wema-walka’ chant in the background. It could have been the effects of the incense, but he never wanted to ask just in case a demonstration might be offered.
It was either very late or very early when he woke, clear-headed and feeling like he could run a marathon until he noticed the silver-haired witch who lay next to him and other thoughts took over. When she opened her eyes and then her arms, he stopped thinking altogether.
When he woke again, she was gone and the sun was high in the day. Teyla sat guard and told him they’d expected the Daedalus any time now. Everything that had happened felt like a dream, even the wound which was now healed with barely a scar. The white-haired witch had left with the dawn.
Once they were picked up, he sent a couple of 302’s down to chase the Genii back through the gate. The negotiations proceeded in the safety of his wardroom aboard the ship and they set up a rendezvous for the first ore shipment.
The dreams were always stronger when he was in the Pegasus Galaxy and he could feel her presence every time he stopped for a Kovan shipment. At first he tried to ignore the feelings, but it was like trying to ignore a broken leg or a angry elephant on your chest. He could feel her eyes on him from where she hid in the trees, equally wracked with need and lust that neither could deny nor dispel. After that, it became part of his routine to seek out her tent and they would hold on to another as if drowning. It occurred to him that he his retirement plans for Northern California were out the window.
Sometimes when he was alone in his quarters, he’d take out his pocket knife and nick his finger just to watch the tiny cut slowly close itself and heal in minutes. With that kind of side benefit, he could hardly complain about a little sexual frustration although he’s pretty sure it won’t help much if they have a hull breech and he ends up breathing vacuum.
He’s also pretty sure that next time Sheppard wants him to gate thru to some backwater little planet, he’s going to tell him to go fuck himself.
Fin
“…there’s none can harm the knight whose lain with the Witch of the Westmoreland.”
Lyrics by Archie Fisher
Sung by Stan Rogers
If you don't know who Stan Rogers was (he died, sob!) then I am sorry for you. He had an amazing voice and sang folk tunes. And he was Canadian. If you'd like to hear this song, I've uploaded it here:
http://www.megaupload.com/?d=8MHECBJG
The Witch of the Westmorland
By delphia
Stargating again with SGA
No particular spoilers, probably after season 3
Rated PG for sexual implications
Not beta read for the usual reasons
~~*~~
He’d been possessed by a Gou’ald once, which would be enough to bring anyone nightmares, but when he closed his eyes to sleep at night, it wasn’t to dream about being trapped in a body that no longer obeyed him. Instead, he dreamt of a silver-haired witch who did things to him that hovered somewhere between pain and ecstasy and when he woke, there was always a longing that was never fully satisfied.
He shouldn’t have been on the damn planet in the first place, but the Kovans wanted to meet the commander of the ship that would be picking up their naquadah ore shipments if the negotiations were to be successful. He gated through to Kovan in spite of knowing Sheppard’s team attracted trouble like dogs attract fleas. Why wouldn’t the Genii, who were supposedly allies, show up to crash the party with guns and threats? They couldn’t know how to best use the copious supply of ore, but they could use it as a bargaining chip with the Lanteans, so there they were, recklessly spraying bullets in a bid for dominance. He caught a ricochet just as the Team made it to the safety of the mountains, led by the Kovan miners.
It wasn’t deep or immediately life-threatening, but gut wounds were prone to infection and it was painfully hampering his ability to run or even walk for that matter. “Just once I’d like to be stuck with your team when negotiations call for ritual sex instead of mayhem,” he grumped, gripping a ragged-barked tree trunk to help lower himself to sit between its roots.
Sheppard diplomatically pretended to buy his flippant act while pulling an aid kit from his pack. “Sometimes we vary it with actual successful negotiations just for the hell of it.”
Caldwell pulled his shirt aside and let him pack the wound. “No,” he said quickly when Sheppard pulled out a syringe. “That will make me groggy. I need to be alert.”
“We’re going to have to move from here soon and a little pain killer will go a long way to help us keep moving, Colonel.”
Without waiting, Sheppard jabbed the needle in anyway and things got a little fuzzy from then on. He remembered Teyla passing her binocs to Sheppard, pointing to where the Genii had set up camp beside the Gate, waiting for their return. All they needed now was some rain to make the day perfectly miserable.
After a huddled conference with the Kovans, the team gathered around him. Sheppard explained, “They’ll send a MALP thru when we don’t answer the check in and once they see the Genii, they’ll send your ship to pick us up. Can’t take more than a day or so. Meantime, the miners have a safe place for us to stay and, well, kind of a doctor for you…”
“A witch doctor,” McKay interrupted. “Not that all doctors aren’t mostly witch doctors anyway, but this one is actually, apparently, a real witch. Or so they say.”
Caldwell couldn’t help the small groan of dismay that escaped, followed up with a couple of random curse words he would later blame on the drugs.
“She is legendary among my people,” Teyla told him, “and even though she usually only treats children, we think we can persuade her to help you.”
“Look, I know what you’re thinking and you don’t have to let her do anything if you don’t want to. It’s just that we’ve found some mighty unusual things in this galaxy that sound like magic and generally turn out to be Ancient Tech, so maybe she’s just got one of those healing devices they left laying around. Anyway, it’s a safe place according to the Kovans, so I think we should go before those Genii scouts find us.”
With Ronon on one side and one of the taller Kovans on his other, he staggered after the little party and let the drugs lull him into a walking sleep. Even in his half-conscious state, he could tell the lush mountain valley where they stopped was well positioned for defense besides being beautifully peaceful. All the Kovans were seasonal nomads, living in sturdy tents that resembled Mongolian Yurts. They let him rest under a shady tree while arrangements were made for staying the night. Eyes closed and almost asleep, he heard the woman before he saw her. “I do not treat the fully grown. Only children,” she was insisting.
“We understand that you must conserve your powers for the neediest of your people, but this man is a leader among our people,” Teyla persuaded. “It is critical to the negotiations of peaceful trade between us that he is returned in good health.”
“You do not understand. There are dangers and costs to be paid.”
The woman’s voice was deep and husky, almost like a man’s. Caldwell expected to see a hefty and aged crone, but was surprised to see the middle-aged woman who stood over him as he forced his eyes open. Dressed in thin layers that didn’t hide her sturdy figure, there were some character lines in her face, but her hair was a fine silver blonde like a toddler’s.
“We’ll pay whatever you want,” Sheppard said.
She gave Sheppard a withering look. “You will not be the one to pay.”
Kneeling down next to him, she peeked under the bandages and then ran a surprisingly soft hand over his forehead. “Fever begins. However, you might survive without my help. What do you say, man from the Sacred Ring?”
Her deep night-colored eyes seemed to grow larger and they were all he could see as the rest of reality blurred around them. Her lips moved so he was sure she spoke aloud, but it resonated in his head with an odd stereo-like effect. “Would you ride the fates or would you ask healing of me?”
His mouth felt dry so he licked his lips before asking, “What’s this ‘cost’ you mentioned?”
She spoke quietly, obviously for his hearing only. “You will never be able to forget me. Nor I you. In healing the young, there is only the bond of family. But if I place my hands on you and heal your wound, it will leave a piece of me in you. I have no wish to send a part of me away, but for the sake of my people, I give much. I will do this thing for them if it is what you wish.”
“I’ll be healed?”
She nodded.
“I’m not ready to die. Not like this.”
It seemed a small price to pay at the time. She stood and gestured to her tribe members who helped him up and into a tent at the furthest end of the camp. They left him on a pallet while she made preparations he was too tired to watch. He let the drugs and the scent of the incense that burned in her tent lull him to a drowsy half-sleep. She brought him water to drink and then, lying next to him, she put her hand over his bandage and closed her eyes. He could see the glow beneath her hands. It reminded him of the reports he’d read about SG1’s experience with Ancient Healing. It also occurred to him the glow was the same color of the neon sign at the bar he hung out in while he was assigned to Japan. It almost made him laugh and he thought perhaps he was getting giddy from the blood loss or maybe it was just the incense.
He was certain it was giddiness that made him think he heard Sheppard and McKay entertaining the village with an a cappella duet of ‘The Lion Sleeps Tonight.’ Their similar tenor tones blended harmoniously as Teyla and Ronan supplied the ‘wema-walka’ chant in the background. It could have been the effects of the incense, but he never wanted to ask just in case a demonstration might be offered.
It was either very late or very early when he woke, clear-headed and feeling like he could run a marathon until he noticed the silver-haired witch who lay next to him and other thoughts took over. When she opened her eyes and then her arms, he stopped thinking altogether.
When he woke again, she was gone and the sun was high in the day. Teyla sat guard and told him they’d expected the Daedalus any time now. Everything that had happened felt like a dream, even the wound which was now healed with barely a scar. The white-haired witch had left with the dawn.
Once they were picked up, he sent a couple of 302’s down to chase the Genii back through the gate. The negotiations proceeded in the safety of his wardroom aboard the ship and they set up a rendezvous for the first ore shipment.
The dreams were always stronger when he was in the Pegasus Galaxy and he could feel her presence every time he stopped for a Kovan shipment. At first he tried to ignore the feelings, but it was like trying to ignore a broken leg or a angry elephant on your chest. He could feel her eyes on him from where she hid in the trees, equally wracked with need and lust that neither could deny nor dispel. After that, it became part of his routine to seek out her tent and they would hold on to another as if drowning. It occurred to him that he his retirement plans for Northern California were out the window.
Sometimes when he was alone in his quarters, he’d take out his pocket knife and nick his finger just to watch the tiny cut slowly close itself and heal in minutes. With that kind of side benefit, he could hardly complain about a little sexual frustration although he’s pretty sure it won’t help much if they have a hull breech and he ends up breathing vacuum.
He’s also pretty sure that next time Sheppard wants him to gate thru to some backwater little planet, he’s going to tell him to go fuck himself.
Fin
“…there’s none can harm the knight whose lain with the Witch of the Westmoreland.”
Lyrics by Archie Fisher
Sung by Stan Rogers
If you don't know who Stan Rogers was (he died, sob!) then I am sorry for you. He had an amazing voice and sang folk tunes. And he was Canadian. If you'd like to hear this song, I've uploaded it here:
http://www.megaupload.com/?d=8MHECBJG
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-10-21 02:33 pm (UTC)I really like this story. :-)
no subject
Date: 2008-10-22 05:24 am (UTC)I adore Stan's voice and his music, but I'm a folksy/celtic fan from the 60's. The harmonies on 'Northwest Passage' just kills me. I do admit however that Frasier singing 'Barrett's Privateers' on Due South was choice. :o)
no subject
Date: 2008-10-21 09:01 pm (UTC)Very interesting idea, and it's kinda cool to read an SGA where the Team is on the periphery of the real story.
When she opened her eyes and then her arms, he stopped thinking altogether.
Way to keep it PG and still get the point across!
no subject
Date: 2008-10-22 05:30 am (UTC)I wish I could write smut better but it just never sounds as good as I want it to be.