“Italics” – Symbiote – Host communication and/or
Telepathic communication
aima coeurawyn – Blood of My Heart. A term of endearment, also the formal statement of the Soulmate. While the word coeurawyn can be used
separately, only the Soulmate should be called aima coeurawyn.
Sevesh Lok Twin – Rite of Realease
Blood of My Heart, Beloved of My Soul
Chapter 19
“Samantha! Samantha!”
Martouf jerked fiercely on Sam’s shirtsleeve. “I understood that the Tau’ri were not aware
of the existence of life outside of their own planet?” He whispered urgently.
Sam turned to stare at him. “What’s wrong, Martouf? And no, they
aren’t. Why?” She was clearly puzzled by his strange
behavior.
“Surely that strange creature over
there is not of the Tau’ri?” He said,
yet more confused.
Sam followed his stare. She looked first at Martouf and then at the creature
in question. She felt Martouf jerk as he
watched the creature lean towards a beautiful little girl with blonde curls and
a wide smile. Sam started to giggle as
she pulled Martouf in the opposite direction.
“Samantha, I demand an explanation.
I see nothing amusing in this.”
Sam headed for the outside door.
Thank god, they had finished their shopping. By the time they reached her car, she had
herself under some control. Martouf was
quite clearly upset.
Once there, she turned to him. “I’m sorry. Really, I am. I never thought about what earth and earth society looked like through alien eyes. What you saw,” she gasped, to choke her laughter back, “was a Ronald McDonald clown.”
“I am not familiar with this
species. It looked awkward, and
unintelligent, but not dangerous.” He
said stiffly. She couldn’t
blame him.
Sobering, she said softly, “I’m not
laughing at you, only at what it must have looked like to you. You have seen so much, Martouf,
that I tend to forget that your knowledge of earth and our customs is
very limited. That creature you
saw was a human, just like any other Tau’ri, dressed up as a clown. He did it on purpose. The store is a fast food eating-place. It’s called
McDonalds and it’s geared towards children.
Clowns are supposed to be funny and make people laugh. Children love them. I’m sorry if I hurt
your feelings. I didn’t mean to,” She
was so obviously contrite that Martouf could not hold on to his
feelings of outrage.
He relented enough to ask, “If it is a
place to eat, could we not do so? I
would enjoy trying something other than the food in your base cafeteria.”
“Well, sure, I guess, if you want
to.” She said, wondering what he would
think of the sauce covered hamburgers and greasy fries … or if his system could
even tolerate them. They’d
soon find out.
Martouf had been amazed at the number
and variety of stores inside the mall.
Sam made sure he had everything he needed for an extended stay. He now owned underwear, socks, sneakers, shoes,
a belt, jeans, casual pants and dress pants, a couple of nice t-shirts and some
casual and dress shirts. She had even
given in to the urge and bought him a beautiful cable-knit sweater in a soft
powder blue. It was too warm to wear
right now, but it was a promise to herself that they would
still be together come winter, and he would be spending time here on
earth with her.
He was wearing a pair of the jeans now,
and wow what a fit. He could park that
swing on her porch anytime. Having
fallen behind a little to watch she bumped into him when he stopped in front of
her. “Why are you following me instead
of walking with me, Samantha?”
She smiled at him, and answered
truthfully, “I was just admiring the view.
It’s absolutely breathtaking.” He
looked at the mountains surrounding them and had to admit to their beauty. Sam smiled and took his arm to urge him
forward. They needed to eat so they
could get home.
Not long afterward, she watched as he
ate his Big Mac, fries and coke with seeming relish. “It is an oddly pleasant combination of
tastes,” he said, as he swallowed the last bite. “What does it contain?”
“You mean the meat or the other stuff?”
He frowned slightly. “All of it, I suppose.”
“Beef, bread, lettuce, sauce, and
pickles.”
“I am unfamiliar with these things.”
“I’ll show you sometime when we go to
the grocery store, but not this trip. I
just want to quickly get a few things we need, okay?’
“I have no objection.”
They were in the car heading for the
store when Lantash came forward.
“Samantha, would it be acceptable to pick up some wine of some
type? Do you know of one that you like?”
“Yes, I’ll pick some up.” She smiled remembering the night she and
Daniel had drank it and almost become passionate
Heartmates.
“This wine brings up memories for
you. Your smile tells me this is so,”
Lantash said quietly.
She looked at him and replied, just as
quietly, “Yes. Yes, it does.”
“Then I wish for you to get some so
that we may add our own memories to the ones you already associate with it,” He
replied.
She nodded her head, “Okay, I can do
that.”
She hoped that the memories they added
would be pleasant ones, hopefully, even wonderful ones. Going into the store, Sam quickly made her
choices. She bought munchies, beer, coke,
several bottles of wine, some meat, veggies, dessert, and then they were on
their way.
Martouf had returned, and he seemed to
be becoming more accustomed to her driving, although he still sometimes gripped
the seat tightly. He was not fond of this
mode of travel, but obviously, they needed some way to cover the distances they
must traverse. He wondered if he would
ever get used to all of these cars being on the road at the same
time.
Sam drove flawlessly, as she did everything, but she had certainly made him extremely nervous at first. He suspected she had done it intentionally. As he sat watching her, he smiled. What a complex, multi-talented woman she was. His desire for her, never far from the surface, roared to life. At least the jeans seemed to hide that a little better than his uniform pants, he thought. Moreover, Jacob had been correct; he liked them.
She pulled into her driveway and parked
the car. They got out, their arms loaded
with their purchases, and made their way to the front door. Setting down the packages, she unlocked the
door, picked them up again, and led the way into the house, where she dropped
them onto the sofa, and turned to go get the groceries. Martouf was standing just inside the front
door looking almost lost.
“What’s wrong, Martouf?”
“Do you live here alone, Samantha? Is there no one else here with you?” Martouf asked hesitantly.
“Yes, I live here alone. Why?”
Sam asked him
“It must be very lonely,” He answered
quietly.
Now she understood. There was no sound in her home. No murmur of voices in
another room. No
bustle of people walking by. Her
lover was used to never being alone. Ever. Even if Lantash
was not talking to him, he always had his presence and that of the other
Tok’Ra.
Walking over to him, she smiled at him
as she kissed him gently, “I rarely feel lonely here, Martouf. We look on privacy a little differently than
the Tok’Ra do. We grow up with the
ability to have time and space to ourselves.
We consider time alone as a desirable circumstance. We’re used to it and
we like it. If you are worrying about
me, please don’t.
Not having privacy is one thing that bothers my father about being
Tok’Ra. He hates not having a door on
his room.”
Martouf nodded as he walked further
into Samantha’s home. It was silent and
empty of living beings. There was much
furniture and many belongings, but no sounds or activity.
He had heard Jacob complain about the
lack of privacy, but he only now realized what it was that Jacob
meant. Having lived like this all his
life, he was uncomfortable always having someone around.
He realized that even in a family
grouping, people could always shut themselves away behind a door to be
alone. Martouf could now understand
better. He would attempt to help Jacob
get some privacy. It was the
least he could do.
He also realized how uncomfortable
Samantha was going to be in her new home.
That could not be allowed. He
thought he could become accustomed to this and he had Lantash.
This would take some serious
thought. He placed the packages he
carried on the sofa, and then turned to accompany her to retrieve the remainder
of their purchases. It didn't take them long to put things away.
Going into the bedroom, they made room
for his new clothing. Sam decided she
liked having his clothes in her closet.
It felt right.
She suggested a shower and change of
clothes before having some wine, cheese, and crackers. Martouf noticed that when Samantha had placed
the white shirt and the pants that went with it into the clothing space she
called a closet; she had stroked the pants and admired the shirt. Perhaps Jacob was correct; he would wear them
tonight.
It didn’t take
her long to shower and change. Giving
him the same privacy he had given her, she was in the kitchen placing snacks on
a plate and getting the wine and glasses out when he walked into the
kitchen. She looked at him and stopped
breathing.
Dear God, he was so beautiful and
completely unembarrassed to be wearing something most men would have flatly
refused to put on. The fawn-colored
suede pants molded to every curve of every muscle in his thighs and the calves
of his legs, and clung tightly to his buttocks.
What it did for the area where his shaft nestled should have been made
illegal.
Breathe, Sam, breathe, she told herself
sharply. She let her eyes continue
upwards towards his face, but it took her a while to get there. The white poet shirt, or was it a pirate
shirt, she thought irrelevantly, was the perfect compliment for the pants. The vee that was so casually open and that
plunged over his chest was a thing that fantasies were made of. She brought her hand to her own stomach in an
unconscious gesture to still the butterflies fluttering there.
“Samantha, am I dressed
inappropriately? Your father suggested
these for a quiet evening at home.” He
frowned anxiously at her.
“My, ah, my Dad, told you to
wear that when we were here?”
“Yes.
Was he wrong?” She realized she
was making him nervous about the clothing he had chosen to wear and berated
herself for making him feel self-conscious.
“Jacob seemed to think that most women
would approve of these garments.” He was
getting increasingly agitated under her stare.
“I just can’t picture my dad not only
knowing that, but actually encouraging you to wear it. Because, he is so
right. Wow.” She looked at him and realized he still
looked uncomfortable. “Martouf, women
dream about men dressing in those kinds of clothes. Trust me on this. There is absolutely nothing wrong, it is
very, very right.” She went to him, ran
her hands up the vee of his shirt, and said one more time, “Oh, very right,” as she placed a kiss at
the lowest point.
She was glad now that she had on a very
sexy floor-length nightgown. The black
satin robe was very solid and proper looking.
The gown, however, was black satin interspersed with vee-shaped lace
insets. It plunged to her navel in the
front and to her waist in the back and only tiny straps woven back and forth,
and which tied on her shoulders, allowed it to stay on her body. She felt certain that when he found it he
would feel much as she was feeling now.
She hoped she could control the urge to jump his delicious body until
they had talked and had some wine.
Something was telling her it was important that they talk as well as
love this night.
She stepped back from him before her
good intentions were cast to the wind.
When he reached for her, she promptly placed the tray of crackers and
cheese in his hands and indicated the living room. Carrying the wine and glasses, she followed
him into the room. After setting them on
the coffee table, she put some soft music on the stereo.
She turned the lights to the lowest
setting and sat next to Martouf on the sofa.
The wine was good and she leaned back and relaxed. She remembered the night she and Daniel had
been in much the same position. She
frowned as she contemplated why she would be thinking of that now. It didn’t take long
to figure out. She was here with her
Soulmate and she wanted him, but knew that he would have to know about that
night and her relationship with Daniel.
In addition, he would have to accept it
as part of her and her life. Sam knew
she was not willing to give Daniel’s loving friendship up. Her relationship with him was the reason she
could understand Lantash’s relationship with Kataya. It had to be talked about. She just didn’t know
where to start.
“What troubles you, my heart?”
“I was thinking about the first time I
had this wine.”
“Why does that trouble you? I thought you liked it, and that it had
pleasant memories attached. Earlier, you
smiled when thinking about it,” Martouf spoke softly.
Sam took a breath and plunged in. “This is the wine Daniel and I were drinking
the first time we kissed. The night we almost became passionate Heartmates.” She heard the sharp intake of a quickly drawn
breath.
“Almost?”
He finally asked.
“Yes.
Almost.
I wanted to know if I would respond to him, and—I asked him to kiss
me. We were at his house, went into his
bedroom, and we slept together.” She
smiled at the memory. “Literally.”
“I do not think I understand,
Samantha. I thought you said that you
and Daniel were not passionate Heartmates.”
“We aren’t. We really did sleep. Both of us. We had too much to drink and once we lay down
it didn’t take us long to fall asleep. All we did was share
a few kisses.” She shrugged.
“The next day we had a briefing and
General Hammond wanted Kataya to tell us about the Furlings and what kind of abilities
she had. Merdwin was there and they
showed us the Fire Dance. Later, Daniel
and I talked. He already knew that
Kataya was important to him, but he hadn’t admitted
yet that he loved her. We spent that
night together here.”
“We sat here and discussed becoming
passionate Heartmates. We decided that
although we loved one another very much and that we were sure we could have a
loving and passionate marriage, we both wanted the ultimate passion of the Fire
Dance in our lives and because of that, we knew we would stay platonic
Heartmates.”
“I love Daniel very much, Martouf. He’s more than just
a friend. If you and Kataya hadn’t come along, the chances are that eventually Daniel
and I would have married, bonded. We didn’t, and we won’t have that type of relationship
now. Can you say the same for yourself
and Kataya?”
Martouf stood and paced the room. He stopped in front of a framed photograph of
SG1. It had been taken one Sunday
afternoon when they had a cookout at the Colonel’s. It had been a pleasant afternoon with a lot of friends from the SGC. She stood between Daniel and Teal’c with her
arms around them both. Teal’c and the
Colonel were joking around, but she and Daniel were smiling at each other. Looking at it through Martouf’s eyes, Sam
realized that the love between her and Daniel was quite apparent. She had never realized it before. She sat quietly, waiting.
“What is it like, Samantha?” Sam realized that Lantash had assumed
control. This made sense considering the
subject matter. She closed her eyes and
thought about the question. Opening
them, she was surprised to find him standing in front of her. She indicated he should settle onto the sofa
with her. When he had done so, she took
his hand in hers.
“It’s comforting. I know there is someone in the world that I can go to for anything. I can take any problem or feeling to him and he will be there. He will listen to what I have to say and he won’t judge me or think badly of me no matter what I tell him because he loves me just as I am.”
“It’s knowing
there is someone who would do just about anything for me and expect nothing in
return. It’s
being happier just being around him and it’s the joy of seeing him and sharing
a joke or a discovery. We share in each
other’s amazement and elation at some new technological gizmo of mine or an archeological find of the century of his. It’s having a very loving friend.”
He sat quietly contemplating what she
had said. Then he began to speak. “What you describe sounds very much like what
Kataya and I had in the early days of our relationship, before we took it to
the next level, which you and Daniel have not done.” Looking at him, she realized he was staring
bleakly at the wall, obviously distressed.
“I love you so much, aima coeurawyn. Yet I am still drawn to Kataya.” Samantha noticed that Lantash was rubbing the
side of his chest lightly, as if it ached.
“Lantash, could it be that you are
feeling that way because you are, I don’t know, tied to Kataya still? As long as she wasn’t
near you, it wasn’t a problem, but now that she is, whatever it is that holds
you together is reanimated or something.
What is it that happens in the entwining? What happens, how does it work, how is it
done?”
Lantash started speaking slowly as he
remembered the ceremony that had bound him to Kataya. “The entwining ceremony is the tying of the
blood. The priest or priestess chants
the words of the entwining and as they are being sung, they slit your throats
and your wrists.”
“At first, there is no blood from the
cuts, but as the rite continues, the blood begins to flow from each
person. As it leaves the body, it
becomes mist-like, it then floats across the open space between them, and the
mist becomes strands, which begin to entwine and spiral upwards. Then the priestess or priest brings forth
each person’s aura. Their auras also
begin to move towards one another and then to entwine and spiral”.
“I am not sure what makes it happen,
but at a certain point, the entwined strands of the auras and the blood begin
to encircle the couple drawing them together until they are standing face to
face touching each other. Their wrists
are bound together and they taste the blood on each other’s throats. When the aura and the blood envelop and swathe
the couple, they absorb it. The wound on
the throat and the one on the wrist heal spontaneously and the ceremony is
complete. Only a priest or priestess of
the All can sever the tie. It is for
life and it is extremely strong.”
Samantha nodded her head. “It makes more sense now. You actually reside within each other in a
way.” Looking thoughtful, she inquired,
“Okay, so what is the difference between an entwining and a joining?”
Lantash replied quietly, “I have only
seen one joining. It is much like
entwining except that the blood and the aura do not entwine, they actually
blend and become one before re-entering the couple. The couple exchanges
blood from the wrist and the throat, but there is also an exchange of blood
through the hands directly from one heart to the other. Of course, when they taste the blood,
assuming they are both Furling, it is done with their
fangs rather than a slit in the throat from the priest or priestess. It is a very ancient and pagan ritual, and
the bond can last from one lifetime to the next.”
He continued, after he swallowed
convulsively, “the bond of either one is very strong, Samantha. Whenever I am near Kataya, the need to be
with her is almost irresistible. It is
like a hunger in my blood, to seek out my mate.”
“Yes, it would be. That is why she wants you to go through the
Sevesh Lok Twin, isn’t it? And the longer you
wait to perform it the harder it will be on both of you. She wants to remove this tie so neither of
you will feel this—this pull that is between you. I am assuming that you refused to do it,
Lantash. Do I have the right to ask you
why?”
“You do. Furthermore, I must answer. You are my Soulmate and we bonded by the
words if not the rite and ritual. In my
eyes, you have all the rights of my mate, my—my wife.”
“Then I am asking you, Lantash, as your
mate, your wife. Why do you refuse to
break the tie that binds you to Kataya?”
Laying his head against the back of the
couch, he stared at the ceiling. “I do
not know. It makes no sense. I love you more than life itself, and yet
when I am near her, I cannot bring myself to break that tie.” He sat quietly for a moment, and Sam waited
patiently, knowing he was thinking things through, and he still had more to
say.
“She almost died for me,” he said suddenly. “I know she wants this, and I owe it to her
to give her this thing that she desires.”
He frowned as he gave thought to his next words.
“Something terrible happened when they
rescued me from Bastet’s stronghold.”
Suddenly, Sam became tense. He
was speaking of Dominic’s death. She
forced herself to relax. She couldn’t betray Kataya’s request, and he would notice if she
became agitated. “I do not remember it,
and no one who was there will tell me what happened. I know Dominic died. I know that I was so near death I could
almost have been considered dead myself.”
“I know that they had fought their way
in to me, and all of their energy levels were depleted. To low to sustain me for any length of time,
and yet she did. One of the Furlings in
the group was a friend as well as a fellow fighter. He told me that even with them helping to
channel energy, she should have died and me with her.”
“The story they told me was that she
was too distraught to channel for herself and that that is why she became so
ill. I believe that whatever happened in
the torture chamber of Bastet’s stronghold was the reason.”
“None of this answers your question,
though, aima coeurawyn. I wish I knew the answer.” He rubbed his chest again lightly. “It is not a pleasant thought that it could
be that I wish to have both of you. Yet,
I can come up with no other reason.”
“I am not jealous of Daniel as I would
have expected. Moreover, as long as I am
not in close proximity to Kataya, I do not want her in that way. Sitting here now, I could tell you that I am
quite willing to go through the ceremony of release, but I fear that as soon as
I am near her, I will change my mind. It
is very confusing to me.”
“Perhaps the answer lies within the tie
itself, Lantash. If it is only when you
are near her, then it has to be that.”
“Yes, and I have thought of that, but
if that was all it was, then I should be able to overcome it. Kataya has been able to. Why then, can not I?”
“Lantash, do you feel guilt that Dominic
died and you lived?” Sam asked gently.
“Yes, I do.”
“Why?
Do you think that he would have wanted to let you die and he live?”
“No, he would not.”
“What was he like? Were you blended for a long time?”
Lantash frowned in thought and then
began to speak. “You had a very bad
experience when you blended with Jolinar, Samantha. Most blended beings become good friends
through the years, and we care deeply for one another. There is much grief when the host dies.”
“Dominic was from a very long-lived
people. In the normal course of events,
he could have expected to live to be as old as two hundred of your years. Because of the blending, Dominic and I were
together for a little over four hundred years at the time of his death. We had grown to love each other
Samantha. He was a beautiful
person. I do not mean only on the
outside, although he was; he was also beautiful on the inside. He and Martouf have much in common. They are both kind, intelligent, giving and
loving. I have been extremely fortunate
to have had two such hosts in so short a time.”
“Then perhaps subconsciously the reason
you won’t let Kataya go is because you can punish her this way for letting
Dominic die, yet somehow managing to keep you alive.” She poured them both some more wine and sat
back to wait for the explosion of denial that she knew would come. She watched as his eyes burst into a
prolonged glow, and he clenched his hands where they rested on his thighs.
“That’s absurd,” he ground out through
teeth that were clenched as tightly as his fists, which rested on his thighs.
“You would know that better than I,” she stated calmly. She had planted the seed, now all she had to do was sit back and see if it found fertile soil on which to grow. She admitted to herself that it was a long shot. She didn’t really believe it was the reason either, but it might make him dig a little deeper into his feelings.
She allowed time to pass as she sat next to him and gently stroked his arm. Soon she could tell that he was beginning to relax. Perhaps it was time to change the subject and give him the love they both needed to share. The problems would still be there tomorrow. For now, they had each other and the night.
“Lantash?”
He seemed to be lost in thought, but he turned to her as she spoke to
him.
“Yes?”
“I love you,” Sam said, simply and
sincerely. “I will always love
you.” She continued. “We’ll work through all of these things, I’m
sure. It just might take a while, that’s
all.”
Leaning towards her, he captured her
lips with his. “I love you, also, Samantha, and I, too, will always love you.” As his lips again brushed hers, he was aware
of the fire beginning to burn in his blood, but still he refused to rush this
time. They had all evening and night and
he wanted to savor every minute of it.
He cleared his throat as he prepared to
make his next statement. “Samantha, my
heart, your father has told me of a custom of your people, a ritual that takes
place between two people who wish to become bonded. He did not tell me how, exactly, to
accomplish it, but he told me how much your mother made him go
through before accepting his offer.”
“I am not sure what I am supposed to
say, much as you were unsure of the words of the bonding when we mated
earlier.” He smiled a little, and then
struggled on. “Since it contains the
giving of a betrothal ring, I am assuming I must ask you to become my betrothed? Is this correct?”
Sam stared at Lantash with a look of
disbelief. “My father told you about
proposing to my mother?”
“Is that what it is called? Proposing?”
Again, he frowned. “What am I to
propose? I should have asked Jacob for
more information before attempting to do this.
I wanted it to be perfect for you.”
“Lantash, repeat after me.
Say, “Samantha”
“Samantha,” he repeated.
“Will you marry me?”
“Will you marry me?” He obediently repeated.
“Now don’t repeat this part okay?”
He nodded.
“Yes, Lantash, I will marry you. Now that was easy, wasn’t
it? You proposed and I accepted.”
Lantash frowned. “That is the ritual? But what about the
gift of love and the ring? What do I do
with them?”
Sam gasped. “Ring?” she whispered, “You—you got me a
ring? Oh, Lantash, I—I don’t know what
to say.”
Although he leaned forward and kissed
her softly, he was still frowning. “This
does not seem correct, Samantha. There
must be more to this ritual. I will ask
Jacob, and then we will do it again,” he said decisively.
Sam realized he was very serious. This was important to him. And if it meant that
much to him, then she would treat it just as seriously. She touched his cheek and smiled at him.
“Lantash, do you have the ring here?”
“Yes, I do.”
“If I explain the – the ritual and tell
you how to perform it, would you,” she looked at him with love in her face,
“would you please ask me to marry you again?
And offer me the gift and your ring?”
“It is your ring, Samantha. It would make you happy if I tried to perform
this ritual again?”
“Very happy.”
“Very well.
If you will explain it to me, we will try.”
“All right,” she agreed. “I’ll tell you what takes place, and then we
will do it again. The first thing you
need to know is that there is no set ritual of words or gestures you have to
perform. You will be asking me to spend
the rest of my life as your wife, your mate.”
“As far as I know, the ways to ask a
woman to marry you are as diverse as the men who do the asking. In its simplest form, it is exactly what we
said earlier. You ask me to marry you
and I say either yes or no. You can add all of the words of love and
promises you wish. As long as you say
what you feel in your heart that is what matters.”
“Some men kneel at the woman’s feet;
some ask while dancing to a love song; some ask while taking a romantic
moonlight stroll. Some,” she gestured
toward the wine, “use candlelight, wine and soft music. What I’m trying to
say, is that however you want to express how you feel for me, is how you should
ask me. Tell me what is in your heart;
how you feel for me, and then ask me to marry you and offer the ring. When I
accept you, place the ring on the ring finger on my left hand.” She held her hand up to show him which
finger.
“It had not occurred to me that it
might not fit. What do we do then?” He asked
anxiously.
“We take it to a jeweler and get it
sized to fit,” she said matter-of-factly, “I’ll tell you what, I’ll set the mood.
Where did you leave the ring?”
“It is in your bedroom with my
uniform.”
“It’s our bedroom now, at least for the
next several weeks. I have a couple of
things I want to do, why don’t you sit for a few minutes on the sofa and think
of what you want to say, while I, ah, I’ll be right back.”
Once in the bedroom, Sam did the usual
things. She panicked, used the bathroom,
checked her hair, and most of all tried to catch her breath. She looked in the mirror and almost didn’t recognize the glowing woman standing there. With a smile, she headed back to the living
room. She hoped that she had given them
both enough time to do some thinking and calm down a little.
Standing in the door of the living
room, she watched him before he realized she was there. He looked pensive and maybe a little
troubled. Then she realized that he was
nervous. He was participating in a
ritual he knew nothing about, and he wanted to make it special for her. Well, he already had by being so insistent
that it be everything it should be. She could help him make it what he wanted it
to be.
She walked to the couch and touched his
shoulder. He looked up at her and said,
somewhat nervously, “Do I go get the ring now?”
She nodded yes and he left. As soon as he was through the door, Sam went
to work…there was a small two-person table in an alcove off the living
room. The table sat in front of a bay window,
which looked out toward the mountains.
From here, you could make out the
outline of them and see the stars hanging like diamonds above them. She took the candles and the wine over to
it. She lit the candles that she hadn’t used in ages and she took off the black satin
robe.
When Lantash and Martouf entered the
room, they saw Samantha standing by the table with the candle glow throwing
mysterious shadows and gleaming off her skin.
As he looked at her, he though he would die from a
lack of oxygen. She was so
beautiful. The gown she was wearing left
just enough to the imagination to be extremely erotic. He walked slowly toward her.
As he reached the table, she handed him
his wine and took a sip of her own. She
smiled into his eyes and Lantash smiled back.
She set the wine glass onto the table, as he did, and went into the arms
he held out for her. She did not notice
the small piece of velvet cloth he also laid on the table.
He held her carefully, gently, as if
she was the most precious thing in the universe, which to him she was. He breathed in her scent and thought that it
was more intoxicating than anything he’d ever been
exposed to. He also realized he was very
nervous. He wasn’t
sure why.
Finally, he said, his voice shaking,
“Samantha, for some reason, I find myself afraid to say anything. I do not think I have ever been this inept,
this incapable of doing or saying what I need and want to say.”
“Lantash, you don’t have to say
anything. I would rather you wait until
you are absolutely sure that you wish to marry me. I don’t want you to
feel as if you have to say anything to me.
You proposed to me once. You don’t have to do it again unless you truly desire too. I understand”
He kissed her gently. Her words had given him the courage and
encouragement he needed. Martouf came
forward for a moment. He seemed to be
having trouble controlling the tremor and huskiness of his voice, but it was
important to them that Samantha realize that Lantash was truly speaking the
words for both of them.
“Samantha, while you were in the other
room, Lantash and I talked together of our feelings and desires as we have many
times before. I wish you to know that while he is speaking
the words, they are coming from our heart, for they are words that both of us
feel and mean. Please accept his words
as our words, and his actions as our actions for I swear to you that it is
so.”
Sam nodded her agreement and answered,
“I will, Martouf, and thank you for assuring me that you both have the same
feelings for me.”
His eyes glowed as Lantash once again
assumed control, and he took a deep breath to try to steady his voice as he
began to speak the words to explain the emotions in their heart.
“You are the blood of my heart,
Samantha, and the beloved of my soul.
There are more feelings in us than words could ever express. Perhaps that is why I find myself so without
them. None can truly express what we
feel for you, but I wish to try.” Slowly
he pulled back from her, until their entwined hands were the only thing
touching.
“Samantha, my love, you are the blood
of my heart.” Slowly he brought
their entwined hands up and pressed her hands against his chest over his
heart. His voice was husky with
emotions, “In my veins, the blood sings your name and burns with a fire and
passion that cannot be quenched. My
heart delights in your nearness and weeps when we are apart. Know that with each beat, it calls your name
and aches to join with you for all eternity.”
Bringing her hands to his lips, he
kissed first one and then the other.
“Samantha, my life, you are the beloved of my soul.” As he brought her hands back to his heart, he
whispered. “You are as the breath of
life to my soul; it whispers of enchantment and rapture to the center of my
being. Know that with each breath I
take, my soul yearns to experience the fulfillment and joy of becoming as one
with you.”
Kissing away the lone tear that had
slid to the trembling smile on her lips, he murmured softly, “Samantha, my love
and my life; my heart and my soul, you are the stars that shine in my universe
and the suns that light my days. Without
you in my soul, no matter the landscape, I would see only desolation. Without you in my heart, no matter the
occasion, I would feel only despair.”
He continued in a voice ragged with the
intensity of his passions, “Your loveliness entrances and enflames my
desires. The brilliance of your mind
awes and amazes me. The exquisite beauty
of your soul humbles and enthralls me. Without
you and your love, I have nothing. With
you and your love, I own the universe.
The intensity of the emotions I feel for you, overwhelm, yet excite and
entice me.”
Releasing her hands, he opened the
small square of velvet to reveal the necklace and ring. Drawing one more deep breath, he turned back
to Sam and with a slightly shaking voice made huskier by his deep emotions, he
said. “We offer this necklace as a token
of our love for you. May I put it on
you?”
With eyes shining with tears and love,
Sam nodded and then looked down at the gift he held in his hands. She gasped, and then murmured softly,
“Lantash, Martouf, how absolutely lovely.
I will treasure it always. Thank
you.”
He clasped the beautiful pendant around
her neck and turned back to the square of velvet for the most important part of
this Tau’ri ritual. As he held it in his
hands, he looked into her eyes and murmured in a voice deepened with emotion,
“Samantha Carter, the greatest desire of our life is to bond with you as our
mate. We offer you this ring as our
pledge that our love for you is eternal with no beginning and no end. Samantha, will you honor us by marrying us
and becoming our mate, our wife, into that eternity?”
Sam closed her eyes against the tears that were threatening to overflow. When she opened them, their radiance lent a luminescent quality to her face and their brilliance rivaled the stars in the heavens. She realized he was barely breathing as he held the ring, waiting for her to answer them. She recognized that she owed this man the type of answer that his declarations so deserved. He had laid bare his heart and soul to her and placed them naked and unprotected in her hands.
TBC