“Of course, the princess must marry only the strongest,” the random courtier said.
John eyed the girl sitting high on the dais above them, resplendent in silks, reclining on a mountain of pillows while two servants held a massive canopy over her and two more fanned her.
She didn’t look like she cared about, well, anything.
John cleared his throat. “Well, the strongest among us is --”
“Ronon, of course,” Rodney burst out.
John blinked. Well, that was technically true, but --
“You don’t mind, do you, Ronon?” Rodney asked.
Ronon shrugged. “It’s just a single night, not a permanent marriage.”
Rodney practically shoved him toward the dais steps. “Congrats. Break a leg. All that.”
“Break a leg?” John echoed, but then the rest of the courtiers were herding John, Rodney, and Teyla back toward the banquet hall to await the celebration of the marriage, which came...after consummation?
When in Rome, John supposed.
“You know,” he said to Rodney in a low voice, “I’m pretty strong too.”
“Under no circumstances are you going to sleep with an alien princess,” Rodney hissed.
“Why not?” John asked, amused, though he’d been planning on suggesting that one of the local me duel Ronon (and Ronon throw the duel) so he could have the honor, as the strongest.
“Because you’re mine,” Rodney snapped, and snatched up a glass of wine.
Teyla stayed his hand and tested it for citrus first, and then Rodney drained the glass.
Later, while he was tipsy, John said, “So, I’m yours, huh?”
“Yeah. What’re you gonna do about it?” Rodney slurred.
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Fill: Ronon + OFC + McShep
Date: 2021-08-13 03:17 am (UTC)John eyed the girl sitting high on the dais above them, resplendent in silks, reclining on a mountain of pillows while two servants held a massive canopy over her and two more fanned her.
She didn’t look like she cared about, well, anything.
John cleared his throat. “Well, the strongest among us is --”
“Ronon, of course,” Rodney burst out.
John blinked. Well, that was technically true, but --
“You don’t mind, do you, Ronon?” Rodney asked.
Ronon shrugged. “It’s just a single night, not a permanent marriage.”
Rodney practically shoved him toward the dais steps. “Congrats. Break a leg. All that.”
“Break a leg?” John echoed, but then the rest of the courtiers were herding John, Rodney, and Teyla back toward the banquet hall to await the celebration of the marriage, which came...after consummation?
When in Rome, John supposed.
“You know,” he said to Rodney in a low voice, “I’m pretty strong too.”
“Under no circumstances are you going to sleep with an alien princess,” Rodney hissed.
“Why not?” John asked, amused, though he’d been planning on suggesting that one of the local me duel Ronon (and Ronon throw the duel) so he could have the honor, as the strongest.
“Because you’re mine,” Rodney snapped, and snatched up a glass of wine.
Teyla stayed his hand and tested it for citrus first, and then Rodney drained the glass.
Later, while he was tipsy, John said, “So, I’m yours, huh?”
“Yeah. What’re you gonna do about it?” Rodney slurred.
John smiled. “Let you know that you’re mine too.”