Finding Home

Ronon has to decide where his home truly lies - with a blue-eyed doctor or a village claiming to be his people.

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17. 17

Certain things will soon be revealed as the tension builds.
And as always, comments are welcomed.

~DW~

Dusana scurried about straightening up the cottage, putting things back in their places. All the while chatting to Ronon as if he were a close acquaintance who'd just come by for a casual visit.

"You do realize that it was my mother's powers that brought you here?" she informed him as she placed the jars of herbs back in the cupboard. A giggle escaped her – a sound which grated on Ronon's nerves.

Standing next to him, she pointed out cheerfully, "Her powers brought you to me!"

Leaning down, she whispered in his ear, "After all these years." He growled when she ran a slender finger along his jaw.

Undeterred by his black mood, Dusana looked around the room. With her hands on her hips, she surveyed her handy work. The only thing she left sitting on the table after cleaning was the bowl of grounded mixed herbs.

With the cottage organized once again to her satisfaction, the witch bragged, "Even now as mother walks the death realm, she is still able to work her magik!" Everything was falling into place, she thought.

Ronon narrowed his eyes and glared at the Vi'denus, but said nothing.

Looking over the proud – and very pissed off – Satedan warrior, the witch mentally took assessment of him. He indeed was a fine specimen of male flesh in his prime. Strong. Masculine. Lethal. She smiled as she could feel her body respond to his essence.

Dusana had to caution herself though that he was dangerous. Her lips curled up. Oh so very dangerous, she thought. If the drug were to wear off before she got a chance to make him hers, he would surely end her life. But until then, she was going to have fun and enjoy herself.

Ronon sat at the table helpless, watching and listening. His vulnerability fueled the anger of the beast. Oh how it wanted to rip the witch's throat out.

Mentally he brought forth Jennifer's image. His anchor.

"Why are you doing this?" Ronon finally ground out through his clinched jaw. Deep down he already knew the answer, but had to ask anyway.

"It is very simple sweet Ronon." Placing her hands upon her stomach, she confessed, "I want a child and as you well know there are no males lurking in the woods-save one."

Positioning herself directly behind him, she placed her delicate hands upon Ronon's shoulders. Her touch revolted him, but there was nothing he could do about it – for now.

Dusana revealed to Ronon how several months ago her mother – with the aid of Crieve – set out to find Ronon and lure him here. Her mother knew that he was still alive and that he lived in a bright shiny city.

"My mother knew that you used the ancient rings quite often to travel and so in using her powers of prophecy, knew just how to tempt you to me."

One word traveled through Ronon's mind TRAP!

Still behind the man, Dusana reached over him and patted his vest pockets – first one then the other until she found what she was looking for. She held in her hand the silver Satedan ring that Major Phillips bought at the market then gave to Ronon.

With her breasts pressed against his back, the witch brought the side of her face close to his. Holding up the silver ring up for both to view, she murmured, "Ahhh, my mother's silver bonding ring that my father gave her." Her warm breath tickled his ear.

"He gave it to her before they became one, before they mated." The dark beast roared his anger.

Turning her head, she kissed Ronon lightly upon the cheek, "Thank you for bringing it back to me."

Ronon tried. He tried to move. He willed himself to move so that he might choke the life out of this infuriating woman, but it was useless. Whatever magik the demon witch cast had a tight grip on him.

Thinking about what she had just told him, Ronon mentally planned on killing Crieve right after he dispatched this bitch to hell. Then it dawned on him that his sister had sent him here. She had told him to seek out the Vi'denus. Alianna hinted that Jennifer's life might be in danger. His sister wouldn't do this to him. She had to have been tricked such as he was.

Still holding the ring in front of him as she leaned against his back, the witch continued.

"Crieve came to see me in the wee early hours this morn. He told me that the man I sought was in the village, staying at his house no less. You could just imagine the delight I felt. It was then that I gave my blessing to his unborn child."

She stood and walked to sit opposite Ronon. Placing the ring in the center of the table, Dusana looked at Ronon.

"He so wishes for a son." she divulged.

"Crieve already has a son. Thane." Ronon replied heatedly.

The witch wore a small frown upon her lovely face. "Oh dear me, your sister had not told you it seems."

"Told me what, bitch."

Ignoring the insulting word, Dusana began toying with the silver engraved ring as she spoke, "Thane is not Crieve's. You would have figured that out by counting the years and months. When Alianna met Crieve, Thane was just a wee one."

Ronon's brows knitted. Realizing the Vi'denus was correct. There was no way Crieve could be Thane's father.

Who then?

Shaking her head slightly, she filled in the blanks for him. "Do you really believe they – the ones in command – would let just anyone aboard their shuttle craft when escaping the Wraith those many years ago?"

She stared at him for a brief moment, and then smiled. However, Ronon noticed that the smile did not reach her eyes as she continued, "A passenger would have to be very rich, very powerful or very useful in more ways than one to book passage on such a ship. Your sister, well shall we say, was a prize possession among the higher ranking officers aboard."

Ronon willed his body to move. Demanded his muscle to work. He clenched his teeth so tight that the muscle in his jaw seemed to go into uncontrollably spasms.

He ground out, "You lie! It's a lie! Alianna would never…"

"Do not" she interrupted Ronon, "ever underestimate what one would or would not do for survival. Not when their lives or the lives of others depended on it."

"Who? Who was the bastard?!"

"I believe his name was Kell. Yes, Kell."

Ronon's blood ran cold. Kell, he was the bastard that ordered thousands of soldiers to their death just to save himself from the culling.

"Kell is Thane's father?" Ronon uttered the words softly. Denying such a thing possible, but knowing how true it could be.

The witch looked at Ronon for a moment then whispered, "Yes"

Ronon strained against his muscle. He tried to get up. He leaned with his forearms upon the table.

The witch was astonished, such strength and determination to fight the drug. Very impressive, she thought

Reaching into the bowl, Dusana took a generous pinch of the ground up herbs and placed them in the palm of her hand. She then blew the powder into Ronon's face.

He coughed and shook his head. He tried not to breath in the powder, but it could not be helped.

Losing strength and sitting back down, Ronon's world began to spin around. He shook his head.

He heard the witch's voice as if it were far off in the distance.

"Ronon?" "Ronon!"

Trying to focus, he turned his gaze upon her as her image wavered in and out.

"You possess a strong will." she stated as she got up from her chair. Keeping a keen eye on the warrior, Dusana walked around the table to stand at Ronon's side. His arms still rested on the table with hands fisted and shoulders slumped, his head bowed.

He could not fathom how he stayed upright in the chair; what with the room spinning around him in such a manner.

"Wh…what…is…" he stammered as he raised his head.

"Shhhh….." the young woman gently captured Ronon's jaw and turned his face easily towards her.

His vision blurred. He tried to focus. Frowning he thought he saw Jennifer. How did she get here?

The beast within clawed, growled, snarled and snapped his jowls warning Ronon of the danger, but Ronon could not stay focused. He was slowly sinking into oblivion.

Dusana leaned down to steal a kiss from him. However, once her lips touched his it was as if Ronon had been scalded. Somehow he found the strength to jerk his head back away from her hold. Ronon focused and glared darkly at her.

The witch let out a small amused chuckle.

"Besides your strong will, something holds you back from surrendering to me."

Ronon mumbled under his breath, "Dream. Must choose." Was he saying these things out loud or thinking them. Shaking his head he tried to clear it.

Sitting back down at the table, Dusana took hold of Ronon's hands.

"Show me Ronon this dream you mention. Show me so that I may rid you of the dream and of the hold your strong will has on you. Let me help you forget everything and everyone."

With that Ronon sank into the unwelcoming darkness.

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