Kasuf
It was on the second moon of the year when Dan-yel, son of Kasuf, returned to Abydos. He had been there, not a month before, for the burial of Sha're, but his time had been so brief that Kasuf had not been able to properly console his good son. But he had returned now, returned to the sands of Abydos, returned to Kasuf. Dan-yel may not be of Kasuf's own flesh and blood, but he loved him as he loved his two other children. Loved him all the more because he was here, with Kasuf, rather than buried deep in the sand or captured by a demon. It always brought a great joy to Kasuf's heart to see his good son, dressed in the traditional robes Sha're had made for him. Through Dan-yel was born of Earth, that land in the stars which protected them, to Kasuf his good son would always be Abydonian.
His good son who always brought gifts from Earth for the people of Abydos, pens and paper and other small wonders. And always he brought a small amount of that creamy, delicious choc-olate for Kasuf, and the old man treasured every bite, often making a small bar last for weeks. But it was not because of the gifts that Kasuf relished when his good son visited, Dan-yel's presence was far more comforting than any small token could be. Kasuf longed for Dan-yel to stay on Abydos, to regale him around the campfire with tales from his homeworld, to give sound advice and suggestions about governing Nagada. But mostly Kasuf longed to see his good son smile again, but he feared Sha're had taken it to her grave.
Yet he welcomed Dan-yel as best he could, allowed him to stay in the home he and Sha're had once shared alone. Kasuf would have preferred Dan-yel to have stayed in his home, so empty now with both his children gone. But Kasuf did not want to interfere with his good son's wishes, and Dan-yel had asked to be left alone in the small house. Kasuf had preserved it perfectly, right down to the open book Dan-yel had been reading before being called to the pyramid, and a bracelet of Sha're's lying on the small table where it had been left. Kasuf longed to hold his good son, tell him all of Nagada, hear all about Earth, but he knew it was not yet time. So Kasuf left his good son alone, hoping that in the next few days, they would be able to grieve together.
He dreamed about her. It reminded him of an old fable, an ancient story. Lovers separated by an evil sorceress, the man, human by day, but transformed into a wolf by night. The woman spent her daylight hours as a hawk before being returned to human form when the sun set. But there was a moment at dawn, no more than a mere instant, when both were human. But it was only a fraction in time, enough to see their lover but never enough to touch them. They were separated before their outstretched hands could meet. And that's how it was in his dreams. He could swear she was there when the first sun of Abydos rose, coating the land in a quiet light. He could feel her next to him, her head resting against his chest, her arm around his waist. He would reach for her, to hold her again, but his fingers would feel nothing but cold air. He would open his eyes and would be alone. It was a daily agony he could not escape.
Sighing heavily, Daniel pulled himself out of the bed they once shared. It still smelt of her, or maybe that was wishful thinking. But he swore he could smell her spicy scent among the pillows and sheets, the smell of herbs and the blooming desert roses.
"Dan'iel" he heard her say impatiently, shaking his arm as she willed him to awaken. Daniel opened his eyes slightly, seeing the blurry vision of his wife haloed by the morning sun. "The day had started, my husband, and still you sleep" she said, chastising him. But he could feel the warmth behind her tone and the small smile that played on her lips and knew she was not angry. His head was pounding, probably due to the excessive quantities of wine he had imbibed in at Ni'ella's wedding the night before. It had been more potent than it had tasted and he knew now he'd overdone it. He was amazed that Sha're seemed so ready to face the day, she had consumed almost as much wine as he had. She'd had years to build up a tolerance, he supposed.
Blindly fumbling around for the robe he'd discarded hastily the night before, he was grateful when Sha're handed it to him, along with his glasses, smiling indulgently. Daniel didn't really the lenses any more, the sarcophagus on Ra's ship had done wonders for his poor eyesight. But he wore them out of habit, and the fact that his vision had not been entirely corrected. Things became a little blurry every so often. Stumbling out of bed, he moved towards his wife, who seemed amused at the effects of his hangover. "Do you not have such drink on your world, Dan'iel?" she asked, reaching out her arm to steady his faltering steps. He coughed, discovering his throat was parched. "Yeah we do" he choaked out, coughing again. "But we also have this little thing called Advil…"
"Ad-viel" Sha're repeated in English, struggling to get her tongue around the strange word. He'd promised to teach her English, and she was eager to learn the odd words of her husband. Returning to her native tongue, Sha're pressed on. "Do not worry, my husband, I have made you lak'na'ta". She gently guided him to the small table near the hearth, where a small bowl lay. It was filled with a green substance that had the consistency of water. Another Abydonian herbal recipe, he supposed. Tentatively, Daniel brought the bowl to his lips and drank the liquid straight down. Immediately he felt the pain in his head and throat alleviate, and thanked god Sha're had the knowledge of generations in healing potions.
"Better, my husband?" he heard her whisper into his ear, planting a soft kiss of his cheek. He turned his head, so that her lips came into contact with his. "Much better, Sha're" he replied, pulling her towards him.
Sighing at the memory, Daniel pulled on his glasses and rising. Ignoring the breakfast that Kasuf had brought while he was still sleeping, Daniel exited the tent and journeyed to the city gates.
Kasuf sighed as he watched Dan-yel once again journey into the desert. His good son was wise, but often foolish. The desert was dangerous to go into alone, even for someone who had spent so much time in as Dan-yel had. Few men braved the intense heats and wild desert creatures without a companion. If his daughter had been alive…
He could try to stop him, Kasuf supposed. His good son respected him, he knew. He gave all the appearances of an obedient and loving son. And he was. But Kasuf knew that Dan-yel wouldn't listen to anyone when he had made his mind up about something. Kasuf would not be able to persuade Dan-yel to stay in Nagada, not when Sha're called to him from her grave. For many days now, Kasuf had watched his good son follow the call of his daughter out into the desert. What he hoped to find there, Kasuf didn't know. But Dan-yel came back in the early evening, unharmed and perhaps a little more at peace than when he had left.
Kasuf had brought him breakfast every morning, worried at Dan-yel's pale face and thin frame. Every morning his good son had ignored the gesture, which only caused Kasuf to worry even more. He worried that there was no one to take care of him on Earth, that he did not eat as he should, would never eat without Sha're's stern insistence. His daughter had been headstrong, and had she any other husband she would have been chastised for her critical nature. But Dan-yel had never minded Sha're's occasionally harsh words if he was too late coming back from the desert or had missed a meal. Now without Sha're, Kasuf feared Dan-yel would wither away. He wished there was some way to reach out to him, but his good son grew increasingly quiet and solemn. Even the children of Nagada, calling to him to join in with their games, to teach them some more English, did not make him happy as it once did.
Kasuf sat in the shade to rest his tired knees. He was getting old, and he needed the company of his son, the only child he had left, to comfort his final years. Tonight was it, Kasuf decided. Tonight he would ask his good son to stay.
The hot Abydos wind swept through his hair, although it did not tousle the length like it used to, when he had lived here. He was not the same man who had sat on these dunes, a few miles from the city, watching the sun set into the sand. Sha're had lain beside him, on the woven blanket they had placed beneath them for extra comfort.
"Should we not be returning to the city, Dan'iel?" she asked, confusing lighting her face along with the setting sun. Turning, he lay beside her, his head pillowed on her breast as he wound his arms around her. He didn't answer her, but then sometimes his silence was all that was required. After two months, she had already learnt his every move, every meaning through his actions. He wanted to stay out here, in the sand and under the stars, far away from the city.
Her fingers wound themselves through the locks of his hair, massaging his scalp slightly with her soft, delicate hands. Everything about Sha're was soft, he had discovered, apart from her sharp tongue. They argued occasionally, about small, stupid things like the time he spent in the pyramid and her constant fuss for him to eat everything in sight. He wasn't used to being taken care of, wasn't used to have someone worry about him if he was a few hours late. He was learning, though, very quickly, about marriage. Their fights were heated, but never viscous, and they were over as soon as they had begun. One of them, him more often than not, would give in, and concede defeat by giving the other a kiss. The making up, he had discovered, was well worth the argument itself.
But they found peace in one another's presence, especially in moments like these, alone and in one another's arms. Her lilting voice filled the air around him as she sang softly. She had been embarrassed at first, when he had discovered her singing on day while fixing a tear in one of his robes. Her face had flushed a brilliant red when he sat beside her, listening to the soft rhythm of her voice raised in song. It was not that Sha're was shy, as tentative as she had appeared when they had first met, it was the simple custom on Abydos that women sang only in front of other women. The men did not listen to the chants the women sang while working, just as the men only raised their voices in drunken song while in the company of other men.
But Daniel was entranced by her rich, mezzo-soprano voice, and would not let her stop. For her part, Sha're put it down to one of the eccentricities of her strange husband, and humored him. She sang whenever possible around him, and at moments like these, her fingers running through his hair and her sweet voice filling his ears, he wondered if he'd ever been this happy before.
An ache filled Daniel's chest as he moved to sit beside Sha're's grave. It was simply marked, a small mound of sand indicting where her body lay, and a small marker of stone. It had been on a dune like this that they had spent so many nights, watching the stars and making love, the velvety blackness covering them like a blanket. But now she was trapped in the Earth and he in the sky, forever separated. His heart cried out for her, for her voice, her touch, but she was gone and all he could do was sit here by her grave day after day. He sat in the sand as the sun beat down on him, wishing the ground would swallow him up and let him rest beside his wife. It hurt worse here, on Abydos where they had lived in such happiness. Everywhere he turned was a memory of Sha're, every square inch of the city and desert held her essence. Abydos hadn't made the grief any easier to bear, as he had hoped. It simply made the days and especially the nights longer, the bed they had once shared had grown cold.
Wearily, Daniel lay a palm against the cool naquadah stone, saying a final goodbye to his wife. He couldn't keep coming here, with only the wind and the small desert lizards to keep him company. He had been alone, and now he needed to be with his family. Whispering a final promise to her, Daniel rose to take the long journey back to Nagada. He knew that he would not return, at least for a while.
"Good Son!" Kasuf exclaimed, surprised indeed to see Dan-yel join the tribe for evening meal. Since his return to Abydos, he had retreated to his tent without so much as a word to anyone, and Kasuf was forced to send a plate of food to him. Inevitably the girl who was sent would return, saying Dan-yel had not so much looked at her, and she had been ordered to leave the plate by the door. When it was collected that morning, it was always barely touched. So he was relieved to see Dan-yel make his way to the centre of the tribe, near the fire and take his rightful place at Kasuf's side. Dan-yel's face still had that haggard, weary look, Kasuf noticed, although his eyes were slightly brighter that they had been the previous days. "Evening, good father" Daniel replied solemnly, nodding to the Abydonians who called to him in greeting.
They ate in a companionable silence for a few minutes, Kasuf keeping a careful eye on his son as he ate. He was pleased to see Dan-yel eat heartily, and hoped the worst of his son's condition was over. There was a great ruckus around them, as there always were at meal times, women and men chattering, yelling and boasting, children playfully pushing each other to get to the food. Kasuf was a quiet man, a dignified man, and so, while he enjoyed the antics of his people, he never joined in. Dan-yel was like him in so many ways, he too had often sat there, smiling but never raising his voice in song or chatter. Tonight is son looked almost happy, and Kasuf decided now was the time to talk to him.
"Dan-yel, my son" he began, and was pleased to see Dan-yel raise his head, ready for a conversation. "You look very well in the company of your people" he said, trying to read the look in his eyes. Dan-yel smiled a little, glancing at a young wife scolding her husband. "Yes, good father, I have missed it here" he said casually breaking off a piece of bread and toying with it before placing it in his mouth. "Then you should stay" Kasuf chimed in resolutely, and raised his hand before Dan-yel could protest. Lowering his palm to place it on Dan-yel's shoulder, Kasuf looked earnestly into his eyes. "I am an old man, Dan-yel. I am not much longer for this world". He saw the sadness in Dan-yel's eyes and pressed on. "You are my son, and the House of Kasuf must live on".
"Good Father-"
"You are the only child I have left", tears started to form in Kasuf's eyes, "You belong here, Dan-yel".
The House of Kasuf? Daniel had never thought about it in those terms before. He'd never had the reason to think of it before. But it was true, with Skaara still possessed by Klorel, and Sha're's child stolen, if Kasuf were to die the Eldership would fall to him. Daniel would never desire such a position, he had never really thought himself as much of a leader. Could he really lead the Abydonians with the same fairness and devotion as Kasuf had? It was impossible, Daniel decided. He still had ties to Earth, to the SGC. He couldn't possibly stay on Abydos. But Kasuf had pleaded with him to stay, to remain his good son and be with him. Daniel had never known how much the old man cared about him, and had been shocked by the sadness in his eyes. Daniel always knew Kasuf respected him, as a man and as the husband to his only daughter. But there was more in Kasuf's words and eyes last night. Though he barely recognised it, it had been a father's love.
Daniel was torn apart inside. Should he stay? Sha're was here. He could live in her memory for the rest of his life. And he could help the Abydonians, protect them, if need be. He would have the support of Earth, if the goa'uld ever decided to attack again. But could he really leave the SGC? There was Skaara to think about, not to mention Jack, Sam…even Teal'c. He would miss the companionship, the offworld missions they shared. And he had promised Sha're, sworn to her that he would find her son. He was only a child, in the hands of god-knows-who. Amaunet had hidden him on Kheb, he knew that much, but where was it? Was it a goa'uld stronghold, was Sha're's son even now being corrupted and exploited? He had delivered the boy, held him in his arms the moment he was born. For that one instant, he had felt what it was like to be a father – he loved the child dearly. He had failed to save Sha're, he couldn't fail her again.
But in leaving he would surely fail Kasuf. The old man was lonely, longing for the company of family that only Daniel could give him. True there were dozens of brothers, nieces and cousins in Kasuf's family line, but they all had their own House, their own family to tend to. To Kasuf loyalty was absolute, his people the most important thing in the galaxy. He didn't understand the desire to explore, the thrill of new cultures and customs and people. To him Abydos was everything, and wouldn't comprehend his good son leaving it.
Daniel walked for miles around the Nagada streets, and memories came flooding back to him. When he had lived here, Daniel could hardly walk to the market square without being hailed or assaulted by a Nagadan, inquiring to his welfare, asking his advice on some topic or argument or dispute. Dan-yel, cousin! Come try my mana bread! Dan-yel, how goes Sha're? Dan-yel, friend, tell us again the story of Ra and the first world. Dan-yel! Settle this bet for us! No one called out to him now, silently respectful for his loss. Mourning was important for the people of Nagada, they had a solemn respect for the dead and those they left behind. They were sympathetic, but only in their grave looks as he passed them in the street, nodding a brief greeting to him.
He wandered aimlessly, until he found himself at the city wall. He remembered this place, he had chosen it especially because of the large stretch of smooth rock that was not covered by cloth or tenting or stalls. It was the only suitable place in the city for which to teach the Abydonian children. He had started in his tent at first, once word had gotten out that he had taught Sha're to speak his language. Skaara and his troop of mischievous friends had shown up and asked – demanded – to be taught the language of their warrior friends O'nel and their saviour Dan-yel. Sha're had smiled indulgently, and he sat with the boys day after day, teaching them the fundamentals of the English language.
It wasn't long before his class grew in size, much to the admonishment of the elder members of the tribe. The children and teenagers were all eager to learn, and once he had found the stretch of wall he had set up shop, a rug thrown on the ground for the masses to sit. Sha're had made him a crude chalk from the red rock of the caverns, and he drew endlessly on the walls, teaching them first to speak and then to write. They looked up at him as if he were Socrates or Aristotle, teaching them philosophy and the – meaning of life stuff – other than simple reading and writing. But then, he supposed, it was all poetry, all mystical wonder to them.
Daniel moved towards the wall, running his fingers lightly over the faded red markings. Further down were etchings in the wall, made by Skarra's knife.
"You're good to teach them". The children had been dismissed, due the intense pounding in his head. Share had apparently been observing the lesson, leaning against the wall, a large woven basket leaning against her hip which no doubt contained freshly washed clothes. He made his way towards her, taking the moment to remove his glasses and rub his eyes. "I'm happy they're so eager to learn. On Earth….people aren't so much like that" he said as he leant against the wall, facing her. He smiled then, and stood on her toes to place a soft kiss on his temple and he closed his eyes, as the ache subsided a little. "Head-ache?" she asked, observing his reaction. "Just a bit" he lied, and he could tell she didn't believe him. Righting herself to stand and adjusting the basket into a more comfortable position, she urged him to follow her.
"Let me carry that for you" he said, reaching for the basket she carried. But she smiled indulgently and pulled it out of his grasp. "You teach, husband, and I will worry about everything else" she said, a small smile playing on her lips as she led them home. Upon entering the tent, Daniel immediately went for his journal, to inscribe his latest cultural observations before he forgot. Sha're ignored him, singing quietly to herself as she sorted out the clothes, separating those that needed mending and those that could be worn again. Daniel's headache was strong, however, and he was finding it hard to concentrate on the page in front of him. He found it even harder to concentrate when he felt cool fingers find their way to his temples to massage the tender skin. He moaned unconsciously as the pain began to subside and turn into pleasure as Sha're worked her nimble fingers over his neck and temples.
He felt her body pressed up against his back, and her soft voice singing in his ear. It was a lullaby, he noticed, although he had never heard it sound so seductive before. Sha're let her cool fingers and soft kisses relieve the pain from his back and head, until he couldn't take it any more. He turned himself around in her arms and saw only her triumphant smile before he claimed her lips with his own.
The square was quiet as Daniel rested his head against the stone wall, trying to stop tears from welling up in his eyes. The stone was cold, like his heart. He couldn't stay here, Daniel realised. Around every corner was a memory of Sha're, of that year they spent together. Abydos still felt like his home, but it was empty without her. His bed was cold at night and the remaining Abydonains gave him no comfort. Not even Kasuf, who wanted him to stay so badly, so desperately. Kasuf, who called Daniel his son and wanted to him to lead Abydos. He wanted to stay. He wanted to sit by his father and learn, teach and lead for the rest of his days. He wanted to wake up every morning and bring fresh desert roses to Sha're's grave. He wanted to hold their wedding cup in his hands at night and dream about her.
But Daniel was no stranger to sacrifice. He had a duty to Earth as well, a duty to Skaara and especially to Sha're. To find the boy. To redeem himself for failing her and finally believe that she would be proud of him. Though it pained him deeply, he had to go.
Kasuf stood proudly in the centre of the Abydonian gateroom as he watched the Stargate spring to life. He bore no ill will towards his dear son for leaving him. He knew he had to share his Dan-yel's heart with the people of the Tau'ri, who had saved them in so many ways. But Kasuf's heart was still burdened will sorrow, to see his son leave again.
"Good Father" Daniel walked up to Kasuf and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You know I would stay if I could…"
"But you must go where the gods lead you" Kasuf replied, solemnly. He knew that the Goa'uld were not true gods, but Kasuf still believed, not in something tangible, that he could see and touch and feel, but in a higher power. There was power in Abydos, in the sand and sun, and there was power among the stars. Fate, Kasuf believed. It was fate that guided Dan-yel's path, and fate that made him strong enough to accept it. "It gives me and the people of Abydos great comfort, to know that you are out there, Dna-yel" he continued. "Protecting us". He drew his good son into a firm embrace, and kissed both his cheeks in affection.
Kasuf saw tears form in Dan-yel's eyes as he drew back and spoke again. "Nothing will happen to Abydos, Kasuf" he said. "I'll die first". He looked grim, Kasuf noticed, and Kasuf sensed the sadness at having to leave. He could not comfort Dan-yel any longer, could not talk to him about Sha're any more. He knew that when his own beloved wife had died, the most important thing was to live in harmony with grief. His good son may never stop grieving, but at least now he was able to accept it and move on.
Daniel bade him goodbye and walked slowly towards the Chaa'pa'ai. Kasuf followed slowly behind, his hand on Dan-yel's shoulder. "Go with peace, my good son" he said, "And return to us soon". The last thing Kasuf saw was a faint smile on Dan-yel's face before he stepped into the light of the gods.
Daniel Jackson of Abydos stepped out of the wormhole into the gateroom of the SGC. His friends stood at the bottom of the ramp to welcome him, in civilian clothes he noticed. Teal'c gave a regal nod of his head while Sam flashed him one of her brilliant smiles. Jack smirked at him, and Daniel knew he was about to become victim of another quick quip. But he smiled in return, a smile that was genuine, not weighed down by the grief in his heart. General Hammond was in the control room, welcoming him back over the PA. Looking at his team, knowing they were about to drag him off base for some much-needed food and companionship, Daniel knew he had been wrong about one thing in his dream. There was hope here.
There was hope.
A/N - Since this is the last chapter and the end of the story, you may have noticed (or you may not) that I haven't included a chapter for Teal'c. That is because I am working on another fic called "Human Rituals" which looks at Teal'c and Daniel's relationship in episodes like COTG, Bloodlines, Secrets, etc. It will include a big chapter on the fallout from FIAD, so Teal'c was not included in this story. So look out for it if you missed a Tealc-Daniel bonding/angst section to this story. Cheers!