MF Luder (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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crack_van2010-04-16 04:51 pm
mf_luder_xf) wrote in crack_van2010-04-16 04:51 pm
Entry tags:
Speaker for the Dead by MrsHamill (G)
Fandom: STARGATE: ATLANTIS
Pairing: gen, McKay/Sheppard
Length: 10,798 words
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mrshamill
Author Website: Mom's Kitchen
Why this must be read:
This was probably the second or third SGA fic I ever read so it's got a special place in my heart. It weaves a sad, unique perspective of what would happen after the Wraith were exterminated. It also features an unusual perspective of Atlantis sentience. It's a lovely, sad tale about friends and consequences and politics. But even at it's saddest, it's still hopeful and touching. Life goes on; maybe you're not happy. But there is still good.
The Athosians came back just before the end of his first year, led by Halling. They brought him provisions to supplement his home-grown fruits and vegetables and news, as well as names to be added to the roll. He memorized the new additions and knew they wouldn't leave until he was able to recite the complete list again. He also knew that every year, names would be added, both Athosian and Terran, and he worried that one day he might not be able to remember all of them.
They camped out in front of John's house for three days. He and Halling went for long walks amid the Ancient ruins and listened to the wind moaning through the empty alleyways. Halling was limping slightly and told John he had developed the joint disease -- arthritis, John inferred.
"Do you feel lonely here, John Sheppard?" Halling asked one evening as they returned to the house.
John didn't even have to think about his answer. "Yes."
Halling nodded. "I thought as much. You must not, though, for you are surrounded by the ones who have gone on ahead."
John would never get over how tall Halling was, close to six inches taller than John. "It doesn't feel like that to me," he muttered. Halling followed him into the house.
"You have not learned to listen," Halling said. He and John sat, each with a cup of tea. "Those of us who have gone on before are still here, and will always be here in our hearts, in our heads," he added, after a few moments. "To know the time and location of one's death is a rare, precious thing, and means the one who has gone on can lead those he left behind." Halling sighed. "It has been a long, long time since we have had an official keeper of the roll. It is fitting we should store it in you, that we should re-start it from the time the Earthers came to Athos. We are all one tribe now, your people here and mine."
John drained his cup but didn't answer.
Outside, the sun had set. The Athosians had put together a large bonfire centered in a ring of large, white stones and were bringing out instruments -- John could hear them being tuned as he sat in his house. "Come," Halling said, rising and gesturing to John. "We have created sacred ground and will sing them beyond the river. We need to assure them the battle has been won and they are free."
John followed him outside, dry-eyed. The woman who sang looked nothing like Teyla Emmagan.
Speaker For The Dead
Sequel: Jeden Dobry Clovek
Pairing: gen, McKay/Sheppard
Length: 10,798 words
Author on LJ:
mrshamillAuthor Website: Mom's Kitchen
Why this must be read:
This was probably the second or third SGA fic I ever read so it's got a special place in my heart. It weaves a sad, unique perspective of what would happen after the Wraith were exterminated. It also features an unusual perspective of Atlantis sentience. It's a lovely, sad tale about friends and consequences and politics. But even at it's saddest, it's still hopeful and touching. Life goes on; maybe you're not happy. But there is still good.
The Athosians came back just before the end of his first year, led by Halling. They brought him provisions to supplement his home-grown fruits and vegetables and news, as well as names to be added to the roll. He memorized the new additions and knew they wouldn't leave until he was able to recite the complete list again. He also knew that every year, names would be added, both Athosian and Terran, and he worried that one day he might not be able to remember all of them.
They camped out in front of John's house for three days. He and Halling went for long walks amid the Ancient ruins and listened to the wind moaning through the empty alleyways. Halling was limping slightly and told John he had developed the joint disease -- arthritis, John inferred.
"Do you feel lonely here, John Sheppard?" Halling asked one evening as they returned to the house.
John didn't even have to think about his answer. "Yes."
Halling nodded. "I thought as much. You must not, though, for you are surrounded by the ones who have gone on ahead."
John would never get over how tall Halling was, close to six inches taller than John. "It doesn't feel like that to me," he muttered. Halling followed him into the house.
"You have not learned to listen," Halling said. He and John sat, each with a cup of tea. "Those of us who have gone on before are still here, and will always be here in our hearts, in our heads," he added, after a few moments. "To know the time and location of one's death is a rare, precious thing, and means the one who has gone on can lead those he left behind." Halling sighed. "It has been a long, long time since we have had an official keeper of the roll. It is fitting we should store it in you, that we should re-start it from the time the Earthers came to Athos. We are all one tribe now, your people here and mine."
John drained his cup but didn't answer.
Outside, the sun had set. The Athosians had put together a large bonfire centered in a ring of large, white stones and were bringing out instruments -- John could hear them being tuned as he sat in his house. "Come," Halling said, rising and gesturing to John. "We have created sacred ground and will sing them beyond the river. We need to assure them the battle has been won and they are free."
John followed him outside, dry-eyed. The woman who sang looked nothing like Teyla Emmagan.
Speaker For The Dead
Sequel: Jeden Dobry Clovek