Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Rating: GEN
Summary: Ellia knew what was expected of her.
Notes: Spoilers for Instinct (499 Words – 2 Sept 2006), Written for atlantis_lvw (Challenge #4 – Practice, Female Characters Only, 500 words or less)
Ellia slowly pressed the stone pestle into the dried herbs with a smooth twisting motion. She concentrated as hard as she could on the sensation of the leaves and stems crumbling and shredding under her touch, as if to sublimate the aching, grinding feeling tearing at her own belly. Father believed in his cure, and she could not disappoint him. For him, she would collect, and press and distill these poor substitutes and learn to be what he wanted.
She could not bring herself to destroy his hope, or his heart, and both would surely be broken, if he knew what she did to survive. Yet, she could not help herself. The need would grow and gnaw at her, twisting her belly and scrambling her thoughts until she could take it no more, and she slowly felt her control fade away. She could not risk his disappointment, nor could she risk his life.
She had heard and learned his lessons. She knew of love and companionship and home, and she craved those things for herself. That was not what the taunting voice of her companion in the forest offered her, and it was not what she would find in the village, or anywhere, if she lost control and took from her father’s fragile body what she needed. Otherwise, he would not have given them up himself to shelter her in this cave.
He was weak, and mortal, and she had sapped his strength as far as she dared. They both knew that she would outlive him, and teaching her these things gave him strength and purpose, and kept him from turning from her in fear and shame. For that alone, the charade was worth it’s purpose.
She was smart and strong. The being that taunted her as he roamed the forest was no threat to her. He desired her, yet thought her weak. She used him for her purpose. She could feel his hunger, his hunt. He taunted her with them, and she grew to almost welcome them. They were her freedom. When they came, she would wait for father to sleep, sometimes easing his way with the herbs that he had taught her, and she would slip out to shadow the monster in the hills, feeding in the dark of night and cover of his crimes.
She thought perhaps that the creature began to only feed at night, because he knew that was the only time that she would follow. Maybe it allowed its hunger to stretch, as hers did, rather than feeding indiscriminately, because he knew that was the best way to draw her out. Companionship was her coin as well as her reward, and she used it to walk between the worlds and survive.
She learned her lessons well, through perseverance, faith and repetition. She could not fail, with so much at stake. She may not be human, but she could pretend, with practice. After all, despite the face she wore, she was her father’s daughter.