Ronon Finds Kushiel

A/N: This is my first Atlantis fiction and it is all about Ronon, but then again…I will have the others here later and parts of SG-1. This story is 1 of 2…the second one is Ronon Masters Kushiel. Update: I am putting Ronon in the world of the book Kushiel's Dart by Jacqueline Carey.

Chapter One: Healing Hands

Ronon fought the darkness as he reached for a spinning blaze of crystalline light that toyed with him. His senses sparked as he could hear an eerie wail transform into a throaty rasp…and he knew the voice came from within himself. The spiraling light took form as his eyes focused in his renewed sense of being.

What is going on here? Where am I? His traumatized mind fought for control over his body and mental reason.

A soft voice that flowed in round tones spoke close to his ear. "May the gods bring peace to you for the reverence you have shown."

Ronon's mind sparked into clarity as he remembered what had transpired before the darkness. In his mind, he viewed the events that led up to this moment. McKay was continuing to talk about power levels they found once they come to a new planet. Sheppard was nodding his head yes and rolling his eyes at Teyla. A fluorescent blue light enveloped them. In the midst of the light, several forms that moved almost animalistic faded in and out of Ronon's vision.

One dark figure faded in and reached to a woman who was shrouded in a cloak of the deepest red. He leaped out to protect her instinctively and managed to knock her out of the path of the phantom being. All of the fading images shimmered into hardened form that everyone could see. They appeared to be human, but their eyes were cold as the arctic at night, which were too large for their faces. He stood between the phantom images and the woman who was on the ground close to Sheppard. They advanced toward the humans in their translucent form.

Ronon waited to the very second before they struck to defend the group. He noticed in the split second before the images reached for the woman that they had to become more solid…in that moment he found their weakness. He blazed amongst them as one of their own with his swift fighting skills. Then the unthinkable…they vanished into the mist that was forming on the mountain. The next thing he knew was swirling lights, which he knew now, was a Stargate. He recalled being carried into dozens of Statgates.

How many did we go through? "Where am I?"

The feminine voice responded in a mere whisper, "You are at Kushiel."

Ronon opened his eyes as a small hand dabbed a salve onto a wound on his bare chest. Within the moments he looked at the wound, the pain diminished and the bleeding stopped. His eyes followed up the arm of his healer to find long wavy brown hair shrouding a face of beauty. He found her to be more beautiful then the goddess moon with all her stars of light. The olive tone of her creamy skin and high cheekbones graced her marvelous face as her emerald eyes darted over his body. He was struck with the completeness of her loveliness as she continued to minister healing to his body.

"Who are you?" Ronon stretched to sit up slightly testing the level of pain that was now leaving his body. The low rumble of his voice betrayed a slight annoyance.

A startled look appeared on her delicate face, "Who I am is of no importance. I must get you ready to see the Essoms."

If she took the time to say her name is not important, then she could have simply told me her name. I am going to have to get use to being around people again. "What is that?" Ronon's mind was racing over speculations and calculations of what was happening.

"The Sacred Twin Essoms are the two rulers of this planet Kushiel. They are from two different families that have a vow to never intermarry and always marry commoners. One gives a boy and the other a girl, so they both may rule. I speak only now to warn you. The others who came with you have not been accorded your standing and will be sold upon the ending of the Midsummer Masquerade. If you are wise, you will use your new influence to win your companions back before then." Nicola realized she might have over spoken because of her distracted tendency to stare at the magnificence of the patient she was tending.

Nicola paused as she pressed the cloth in her hand over his abdominal muscles that felt as hard as river stone and as warm as a sun kissed granite.

How can a man's skin be so warm without there being a sickness? How can a man look this good with this type of clothing and wild hair? He was a puzzle.

Ronon took notice of three guards in his room. All three men were almost as tall as him. Each had a sword strapped to their backs and vambraces on their forearms. They were clad in silver cloaks and leather pants. Ronon could see in their averted gazes that they were trained warriors with undoubting deadly skill. One who was the opposite in complexion to the other two tipped his head slightly to look Ronon directly in the eye. The tall guard who now watched him had long straight blond hair that was pulled back with a leather strip. The gleam in the fair haired, blue-eyed guard spoke of an interest that Ronon was not sure he agreed with or not.

He shifted slightly then spoke with a throaty voice that oozed masculinity as he returned his attention to the beautiful woman next to him, "Why are you helping me?"

"It is my duty today to assist you in healing to be presented to Lord Marmion and Lady Alba." The tone of her voice rose slightly and Ronon could see that her breathing had quickened. She has lovely pouting lips and healing hands.

Ronon ran his hand up over his side onto his chest where the wound once was that was indecipherable on his tanned skin at this point. "Thank you, but why are you giving me information?" His mind told him she could be part of a trap, but his heart told him she was more trapped then he was.

She had not noticed when she started massaging his sculpted legs that were stretched out on the resting couch. She stopped as her large eyes floated up over the intoxicating man's body to his hooded eyes then back down.

She paused just above his thy. "Oh my…"

Ronon knew he should be embarrassed because of his masculinity showing signs of appreciation for her gentle massaging. Her eyes looked as if they would pop out of her face.

Why does she look so surprised? Hey, she is the one rubbing on me leaning forward giving me a view with that low cut of her dress. Ok, stop this! Focus, for the gods' sake Ronon focus. But for all his determination his only focus was on the subtle lines of her neck and the brilliance of her emerald eyes. He could also see a pain of loneliness that dwelled just below the surface.

"Sorry, it has been a while since a woman has tended to my…um…needs." He continued to speak in a lowered voice with an impish grin. The pure curious desire showed on his face without any façade of the contrary.

A rush of air left her lungs at the mention of needs from this stunningly handsome man. "My name is Nicola." She could feel her heart start to quicken inside her chest as his eyes followed her every move. She wanted to hide away any way she could, but at the same time a nervous shaking urged her to maintain his eye contact. The power of his stare was too strong for he saw straight into her very self. A flushed wave of heated embarrassment spread across her as she averted her eyes and picked up her healing tools and cloths.

In that moment, there was a chanting that passed by the outer door of the room that they could hear briefly. Ronon mused it sounded like a group of drunken men at a tavern, "Man or woman, we don't care; give us twins, we'll take the pair! But just because we let you beat us; doesn't mean you can defeat us!"

Then Nicola turned red as she looked back at the door when the chanting got louder.

"Whip us till we're on the floor, we'll turn around and ask for more, we're Phedre's Boy's. We like to hurt, we like to bleed, daily floggings do we need, we're Phedre's Boys!"

Ronon stifled a laugh at hearing the men singing out in the hall about sadists who apparently like to spank them. He raised his eyebrows then saw the flaxen haired guard avert his eyes with a curse. A strange expression of shock appeared on Nicola's face when she looked at the guard. It was as if it were strange for her to hear him speak.

"My name is Ronon. Now, how do I get out of here without a flogging?" He sat up completely as he held part of what was left of his shirt over his waist. He had hundreds of questions, but forced himself to remain under control.

"Only by the will or decree of the Sacred Twin Essoms. You must don your garments for it is almost time for you to be presented." Nicola waved a hand to a stack of clothing on a table. She picked up her healing bag and turned to the door.

When she got to the door, her hand started to pull it open, but she paused. Her mind raced over other items of proper respect that he must know in order to navigate the main chamber. She turned to tell him what was important for his survival when her thoughts were dashed to the floor…he was standing completely unclothed next to the table in a masculine display of excellence that even the light haired guard admired.

A/N: Ok, here is my first Ronon fiction…chapter one…what do you think so far? Ship and Slash, what a picture…

Smile As the Stargate Turns!