A Bargain, A Lady

disclaimer: The Mary Kay Commandos are from “Bloom County”, and of course Matel owns Barbie ™

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She was in a big, lighted box.

She didn’t like being in the big, lighted box.

And what the fuck had happened to her uniform? She wasn’t sure whom the fashion designer around here was, but she was feeling somewhat bare in a gown made up of layers of sheer cloth in varying colors and no undergarments.

The doors above her slid open, giving her a good view of a gold ceiling covered in what looked like hieroglyphics. Gee, what egotistical, spoiled rotten, megalomaniacs have gold ceilings covered in hieroglyphics?

She waited a moment to see if there would be a stranger’s face peering into the sarcophagus at her. She’d rather it be the face of her CO, who would then tell her they pulled off a miraculous capture of a Mother Ship and were taking it home to Earth. Ticker tape parades for everyone! His face didn’t show up either. She didn’t hear anyone else in the room, which didn’t necessarily mean anything. Figuring that if she didn’t get out on her own someone would come and drag her out, she sat up slowly and looked around.

There was nothing in the room except for the sarcophagus and four doors. Not even a guard or two. Quietly, she slipped out of the fancy coffin and crept towards a door. She fiddled with the control panel to the right of it, but nothing happened. Edging around she went to the next door. Again, nothing. Nothing happened when she tampered with the third door, either. When she got to the fourth, she finally got a response.

She looked into the newly revealed room and wondered how to shut the damn door again. There was little point in trying, however, as the occupants had seen her. To her surprise, they weren’t Jaffa or even that jackass of a Goa’uld who had all but crushed the life out of her. Three women looked up from where they were snuggled together on a very large bed surrounded by gauzy curtains of various shades. They were all beautiful, far more so than she, and dressed in far less than the diaphanous gown she’d been put in. One blonde, one brunette and a redhead who actually had auburn tresses rather than her own flame-orange color. They were all very giggly and just looked vapid.

“Great, Muffy, Tuffy and Buffy. How’s it going, ladies?” She looked around the room again. This one wasn’t empty. Besides the bed there was what looked like an oversized gold bathtub, a table and chairs built into the flooring and various martial weapons decorating the walls. “Oh, this is much better.” She made a beeline for a blade the same basic length and shape of her field knife. Her hand went out for it, only to receive a vicious shock from the effort. “Of course. Nothing could be that easy.” The Triplets giggled behind her. “Laugh it up, girls.”

The sound of one of the doors in the outer room opening caught her attention. She moved so that she was not in direct line of the door to the… bedchamber. The Triplets, she noticed, were becoming even more excited. A figure she remembered all too well came into the room, closing the door behind him. The same Goa’uld who had taken her down earlier was now scanning the room. There was no place to hide, so she opted to stand her ground, willing herself not to show any fear. His eyes flashed and a triumphant smirk touched his lips when he saw her. He barked an order in a language she didn’t understand, but the Triplets did. They scrambled off the bed and hurried to him. He held his arms out, never taking his eyes off of her while the girls began to undress him, taking every opportunity to stroke his skin and press themselves against him.

It became apparent that he was going to be completely nude when it was over, but she forced herself to maintain eye contact. It wasn’t easy. If you ignored the fact that he was pure evil and of a race that was intent on destroying her people, he was definitely what the girls back home would classify as ‘doable’. He was tall and bronze skinned with a head of thick, jet-black hair. She remembered those strong arms and that too perfect face when she had been fighting him. The temptation to see if the rest of him measured up was strong, but she refused to be encouraging.

He allowed Muffy, Tuffy and Buffy to fawn, or was that fondle, over him a bit longer before barking another order. He must have told them to take a hike, because they started to mewl in protest, forcing him to do it again. Muffy and Tuffy (brunette and red-head, respectively) left with full pouts. Buffy (blonde) shot her a venomous look before exiting.

Great, so now she was alone in a room with an alien convinced he was a god and a very large bed. Was it too late to call the triplets back in?

“What name was given to you?”

She blinked, surprised that a question, but caught herself before she answered. “Captain O’Fallon, United States Marine Corps.”

The Goa’uld took a large goblet and a curiously shaped bottle. He uncorked the bottle and poured a dark red liquid into the goblet. “We did not ask for your father’s name or your title. We asked for your given name.” He set the bottle down on the table as he approached her. She almost stepped back, but did not want to appear weak. Instead, she stood her ground as he drew nearer.

“I don’t see why you need my name. I don’t have yours.”

He stopped just in front of her and she was suddenly reminded how tall he was. She wasn’t short for a woman, 5’8” according to her last weigh-in. He still had a good seven or eight inches on her, and at least one hundred extra pounds. Solid muscle from what she could remember. He smiled at her, the goblet held between them. She could now detect the fragrance of fermented fruits. “I had heard that the Tau’ri were overcome with bravado in greater measure than was warranted. I am Camulus, god of war. I would know the name of the warrior I watched kill five of my Jaffa on her own.”

She hesitated. It was only a name, and he was likely to get ugly if she didn’t give it to him. “Jessica.”

“Jessica.” He took a drink of his wine. “I like that name. Womanly, and yet sharp, like your blade.” He nodded his head towards the wall behind her. She turned out of reflex. It took a second to find, but there was her field knife fastened to the wall. “I have seen greater blades, but even the dullest knife can be deadly in the hands of one who knows how to wield them.”

A finger caressing the side of her neck made her turn back around with a start. She frowned and took a step away from him. “I don’t suppose I could have it back.”

“You have no need for it here.” He lifted the goblet. “Drink.” She looked at the goblet. He had drunk from it, but he was a Goa’uld and would be immune to most poisons. He gave a short chuckle at her hesitation. “I am trying to be a gracious host, but you are not helping matters. If you continue to defy me, I will have no choice but to punish you by harming those brought with you.”

Her head snapped up. “My team? They’re alive?”

“I have had their wounds tended and have them in the holding cells of this vessel. They will remain well if you cease to defy me. Drink.”

They were alive. And supposedly unharmed. “Could I see my team first?” She hesitated before adding, “Please?”

He seemed to consider her request for a moment. “No, not at this time. I wish you to remain here, with me. Afterwards I will allow you to visit your… team, but only if you give me no trouble.”

She weighed his words carefully. They always told them in the briefings that a Goa’uld could not be trusted, not about anything. Still, if there was a chance? What she suspected this was all eventually leading to was nothing that the Corps did not warn female soldiers was a possibility should they be captured. You could never truly prepare a woman for rape, but you could give her a heads up so she had a chance to steel herself for it. She swallowed hard and nodded. Her lifted her hands and took the goblet, willing herself not to shake as she took a drink.

The wine was sweet and rich, thicker than she had anticipated. She was painfully aware of his eyes on her face as she swallowed and handed the goblet back to him. He took another long drink before setting it down on the table.

Large hands grasped her around her waist and pulled her towards him as he sat down in one of the chairs. He brought her down to sit across his lap, placing one arm around her waist, the other reaching up to stroke her opposite arm. “Are all women of the Tau’ri as strong as you are, Jessica? When I ruled there, the men were the ones who went off to fight. Few women took up arms.”

“It’s an all right life for some.” She was acutely aware of something firm prodding against her hip and was certain she knew what it was. Why he was playing games with her she did not know. She felt his hand travel down the length of her arm and over her leg, still covered in the gauzy material that made up the gown she was wearing. When he started to raise the hem of the gown she tensed up.

“Submit. Remember that yours is not the only life in my hands.” She let out a shuddering breath and forced herself to relax. She tried to remain calm as she felt the roughness of a calloused hand traveling along her skin. Camulus pulled the fabric between them free, allowing her to feel skin-to-skin contact. She felt something deep within the apex between her legs twist in response to the sensation. “Your shape is most pleasing, Jessica of the Tau’ri. I can feel your strength, and yet there is softness to you.” He moved a hand between her legs, seeking out her center. He pressed forward into her with two blunt fingers, but stopped when she bit back a gasp of discomfort. She felt him withdraw and then insert only one of his fingers as he tilted her back slightly so he could reach further.

“You come to me a maiden.” She clenched her teeth, pressing her lips together. He teased her with long, slow strokes. “A pleasant surprise.”

“Don’t let it go to your head. I’ve had more important things to do with my life.”

“You are proving to be a greater prize than I had first thought.” He moved with a speed she would have not thought possible, shifting her from sitting across his lap to straddling him. She couldn’t help but be surprised at her new situation.

“Prize?”

He took her hands in both of his and pressed her palms against his chest. His hands then traveled down her back and lightly clasped her hips to pull her close so that the mons rubs against the thickness of him. “A great prize. I watched you face a Jaffa who was larger and stronger than yourself, your fallen enemies lying about you. I witnessed you turn what should have been a defeat into a flawless victory. You were glorious and I knew you would be mine.”

“Most men don’t get off on watching a girl kill someone.”

“I am a god of war. I cherish warriors above all others.” He reached up with one hand to ease the shoulders of the gown down her arms, baring her breasts. “I have claimed the daughters and wives of my fallen enemies as spoils of war, but never have I found a woman warrior who was not of my blood.” He ran his thumbs over the soft skin of her breasts. “My lotar tells me that you wear a garment that crushes your breasts to make them smaller.”

She frowned and tried to pull away. He stopped her with a hand moving around to her back. “Yeah, well you try lugging them around for a while. They get in the way.”

“And yet they ensure that any sons you bear will never go hungry.”

“Now, see, here’s where we have a problem. I’m trying really hard to keep focused on behaving myself here, trying to be the brave little soldier. But if you’re going to start talking about me and children in the same sentence then I’m going to have trouble with this.”

Camulus only smirked and pulled her closer. “Nervousness is expected for a maiden when she first lays with a man, even more so when that man is a god. You need not fear me.”

“Let’s get one thing straight. You’re not just a man, and at the risk of having my head detached from the rest of me, I don’t believe you’re a god. What you are is my enemy and I’m only sitting here without trying to gouge your eyes out because I’m not stupid enough to believe I can fight through all your Jaffa to get my team out.”

“You do not fear me? Do you always tell falsehoods to yourself?”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t afraid. Fear keeps you sharp as long as you don’t let it cripple you.”

“And you do not fear what is to come?”

She swallowed and took a deep breath. “The Corps tries to prepare us for everything. They make sure they tell the women what can happen if we’re captured. We don’t have to like it, but we don’t bury our heads in the sand over it, either.”

He stood up, holding her to him. She dug her nails into his chest and closed her eyes as he walked to the bed and laid her down. He pulled the rest of the gown from her and threw it to the floor somewhere behind him before covering her body with his own. “You would kill me if you could.”

“In a heartbeat.”

“You do not yet understand what you are now.”

“I’m a prisoner of war. That’s not too hard to figure out.”

He reached between them and found her center again. She jerked as his fingers made contact bur forced herself to relax as he began to toy with her. “You are me defeated enemy. I met you in fair combat and I was the victor. There is an old code in battle, Jessica of the Tau’ri, and we feel that your people have been so long from my presence that you have lost that code. You seem to have forgotten that when two warriors battle, the victor gets to choose what his prize will be from the defeated. You are the defeated in our battle, and the prize I choose is you.”

Jessica tried to think of a witty come back to that, but something he did to her made her gasp. She felt as though a shiver had run through the entire lower portion of her body as a tightness started to build within her. His eyes flashed as a triumphant smirk crossed his lips. “You will serve by my side until the end of your days.” She shook her head in denial, but gasped again when he teased the hardened nub between her legs. “If I choose that you will bear my children, then this you will do.”

His fingers were long and strong from both untold centuries of combat and the physical perfection demanded of the Goa’uld. Those same centuries had given him more than enough time to learn how to make a woman’s body respond, regardless if she were willing or not. Jessica screwed her eyes shut, not wanting to see his gloating face as he forced her body to answer him. She managed for a time to stop her hips from moving in time with his ministrations, but the battle against herself was soon lost. The tightness inside her grew more intense, like a wire coil being wound up.

The defiance in her wanted to make him suffer bringing this on her, the humiliation she was feeling at her own perceived weakness. She gripped his upper arms with her hands and dug her nails into him as hard as she could in a vain attempt to release some of the tension inside her of her. She thought she heard him make some sound deep within his throat and she hoped it was in pain. The thought that it might be made her smile just before the wire snapped and she was swept away in something powerful. She felt like all the tension slowly building since they had encountered the Jaffa was flowing out of her in a wave. She heard him encouraging her onward in that smug, superior voice of his, but his voice seemed to be far away, barely heard over the sound of blood pounding in her ears.

Her mind slowly stopped spinning and she was aware that she was gasping for air. When she opened her eyes it was to see him leering at her as he moved higher over her. Perhaps her mind was still fogged from the orgasm, but for a moment she didn’t see him as just a Goa’uld. She noted the handsome face and dark eyes hovering above her. She felt a strong hand move down and grasp one of her thighs, pulling it up alongside his body to open her wider. Something quite a bit larger than his fingers probed at her entrance, bringing her somewhat more into focus.

He moved his hands up to frame her face, but she did not release the grip she had on his arm. She was faintly aware of wet warmth and was certain she had pierced the skin there. He seemed not to notice any discomfort as he pressed forward in one sure stroke, in spite of the fact that she dug her nails in further, refusing to mutter any sound of pain. It did hurt, but not as badly as she had feared. She was wet enough to make it a bit easier and she believed that his just getting it over with rather than drawing it out helped a great deal.

He remained still for a moment after fully sheathing himself within her. She didn’t believe it was for her comfort, more likely he was just enjoying the moment. Hadn’t the girls back home always made snide remarks about how guys loved being a girl’s ‘first time’? Even as she thought it, something about it didn’t feel right. She couldn’t possibly be his first virgin, but this was probably still a power play for him.

When he did move again it was in long, sure strokes. He kept staring at her with those dark brown eyes, his gaze too compelling to break free. Her untried body wasn’t happy with the invasion, but he was patient. His body moved against her own, toned muscles under tanned skin caressing her. Gradually, the discomfort began to fade as she became accustomed to him. For a while it was just friction, his body moving in and out of hers. She began to wonder how long he could keep this up. Did being a Goa’uld extend its stamina to sex as well?

The friction began to slowly give way to that same pleasurable sensation from before. He was doing it to her again, making her body feel pleasure when she should feel nothing but loathing. The dismay over this must have shown in her eyes because his lips turned up in that damned, gloating smirk again. She tried to wrest her head from his grip, tried to turn away and detach herself from the act, but he held her firm. “Do not fight it, Little Warrior. There is no shame in finding pleasure in our bed.”

No shame? There was plenty of shame in feeling pleasure when you were not truly there by your own choice. She was attempting to buy some time for her colonel and her team, bartering with the only thing she had that they didn’t. She couldn’t even be sure it was going to work. She wanted to be able to feel nothing, to let him have his fun and be done with it. She had been such an idiot to think that she would be able to bear this. If she ever got back to Earth she’d likely end up in a nice rubber room. That same tension was coiling inside her again and she gave a whimper of frustration.

Camulus lowered his face to brush his lips against hers. That was the final straw for her. She gave a growl and tried to bite him, but he was too quick. His hands gripped her head more firmly and he pulled back enough that she could see his eyes flash. His expression turned to one of expectation. Furious with him, furious with herself, she released his arms to try and claw at his too-perfect face. He was quicker, his hands closer, and he stopped her attack.

She did not give up. He only batted her hands away; he didn’t try to catch them. She tried to buck him off of her, but it only served to bring him more deeply inside. She clawed at his chest and back, adding angry red welts to the bloody half moons already on his biceps. The increased friction of her body fighting against his drove the tension coiling within her to newer heights. She tried to strike at him like a cobra, head snapping up. He countered by taking advantage of the movement to press his lips to one side of her throat, making it impossible for her to make contact.

A shudder of pleasure ripped through her, a hint of what was building, and she gave a cry of protest. “Sing for me, Jessica.” The cry that broke from her when her second orgasm came over her was anything but joyful on her part. She stopped fighting, knowing that there was no point in doing so now. He took advantage of her stillness to thrust into her five more times until he was brought to his own completion. She lay there, feeling him jerking within her and knowing what it meant.

When he had finished he hovered within her for a moment longer. Jessica was certain that if he had been a cat he would have been purring. When he did pull free of her she immediately rolled over onto her side, curling up and staring at the gold wall behind the bed. Camulus was silent behind her but he did reach out to turn her so that she was lying lengthwise on the bed. She felt his weight shift and his warmth press against her back.

She felt the tears start to well up in her eyes and ordered herself not to cry. She would show no more weakness than she had already; she would give him no more power over. A strong arm came over her waist and pulled her tightly into the curve of his body, settling her in to sleep. She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and spoke in a harsh whisper.

“I hate you.”

He gave no response. Then again, she was no longer sure who she hated, Camulus or herself.

~***~

It had been a long time before sleep had claimed her, after she had exhausted herself in an attempt to keep from crying. She hadn’t cried in years and she wasn’t about to start now. When she awoke, she was blissfully alone.

She sat up in the bed, wincing at the soreness between her legs. Glancing down she saw where blood and semen had trickled back out of her in her sleep, drying in streaks on the inside of her thighs. The red-brown color contrasted sharply against her too pale skin. Her stomach gave a lurch at the sight and she quickly grabbed a thin, silky sheet from the bed to wrap around herself.

It took a second to make her way off of the bed with her makeshift robe tangled around her. She put herself in a seated position on the edge of it and looked down at her toes. She hoped ‘Lord Camulus’ had gotten enough. Now that he had proven who had won maybe he’d go back to one of the triplets, or all of the triplets. She suspected that he was the kind of guy who liked to do the numbers thing; it would explain why the bed was so freaking big.

She kicked the air with her foot and caught movement out of the corner of her eye. She jumped and looked, but found it was only a mirror placed to the side. She looked at her reflection as if to see if there was any visible difference. Nope, still the same Jessie. She guessed maybe she shouldn’t have fought so hard, and then maybe he wouldn’t have noticed her. There sure as hell wasn’t anything else to recommend her, unless he liked girls with bright orange hair and more freckles than there were stars in the entire freaking galaxy. She supposed that her bone structure might have been pretty and being military certainly kept her in shape, but the triplets from last night had been gorgeous, like runway models only with curves. And they had looked like the kind of girls who tanned rather than burn. She never went off world without at least two new tubes of sun block, SPF 45 and both sweat proof and waterproof to be better prepared for all the fun and games that came with being in the SGC. The only cool thing about herself, the only thing she liked, was her eyes. They were dark, dark blue, almost black. They clashed with the rest of her, but then again, everything clashed with orange.

“I don’t get it.”

The door hissed up, making her jump. She mentally berated herself at the reflex, reminding herself to be tough. It wasn’t him, thankfully, but it was Muffy, Tuffy and Buffy, followed by a handsome man bearing a tray of food. When he spoke it was in a normal voice, without the resonating qualities of the Goa’uld, but still in that language she didn’t understand. If she ever got out of this she was going to beg and plead with Dr. Jackson to teach her Goa’uld. She hated it when people talked around her where she couldn’t understand them. Muffy and Tuffy glided/danced/whatever to the tub and began to fill it. They giggled and whispered, occasionally throwing glances at her over their shoulders while contemplating various odd shaped bottles, some of which they added to the water. Buffy, however, gave her a hateful look. The blonde’s eyes glanced at the rumpled bed and her expression changed to one of shock. Jessie looked down at the spot the woman was staring at and saw more of the red-brown mess left behind from last night. The reminder of it put her one the defensive. “What?!”

The man looked up from the tray he was arranging and saw the exchange. His tone was firm as he apparently scolded the blonde and indicated for her to join the others in preparing the bath. “Ignore her. She is jealous.”

“Jealous?”

“Ayan is one of my lord’s favorite handmaidens. She is usually always among those he selects to accompany him when he leaves his home and is most always called to his bed. She is unhappy that you were kept here instead, and unlike you, she did not come to him untouched.”

“Hey, I’m not here to take anyone’s place. If she wants the job, she can have it. I don’t mind. I’ll just go join the rest of the prisoners.”

He studied her for a moment, and then gave her a patronizing smile. “I am Calum, lotar of Lord Camulus. My lord has told me that after you have broken your fast and bathed I am to take you to the holding cells so that you may assure yourself that the men you traveled with are unharmed as he promised.” He poured what looked like water into a goblet before stepping away from the table.

“I’m not that hungry.”

“If that is your wish, but my orders are that you are to eat, and then bathe, in that order, before I can take you to the holding cells.”

She gave him a disgruntled look before getting off the bed, the sheet wrapped lightly about her and moving to the chair. There looked to be some type of dark bread, an egg dish (though eggs from what she didn’t know) and various fruits. She opted to try the fruits, thinking that they’d be the least likely things to be poisoned or drugged. There were three different kinds to choose from, one extremely sweet, one rather tart and one somewhat in between. All three were very good and reminded her that she was hungry in spite of what she had claimed.

Calum remained silent as she ate, refilling her water when it was emptied. When she had had her fill, she pushed the tray away and looked at him. He didn’t move. “Well?”

“You have a question?”

“Yeah, are you going to leave?”

“You are not yet ready.”

She let out a mirthless chuckle. “Look, I don’t know what the cheerleaders over there are used to, but I’m not in the habit of bathing with strangers in the room watching me. Can I have some privacy here?”

Calum gave a slight nod. “You are uncomfortable with my presence here, this is regrettable. I can turn away, but I must stay and the handmaidens are here to assist in your bath.”

“Uhm, I’m a big girl. I’ve been taking baths all by myself for a very long time.”

Calum gave her a long-suffering smile. “I am certain this is all new to you, but these are our ways. If you cease to resist and cooperate, then you will soon be able to speak to your friends. The longer you delay, the less likely it will be that you can.”

“We’re on some kind of timeline now?”

“My Lord Camulus is to meet with Lord Ares to discuss a territory dispute between them. He wishes you to be there. If you are not ready by the time they are to meet, then you will have to wait to see your friends some other time.”

She gave him a suspicious look, as if trying to ascertain if he was being truthful or not. “Fine, turn around.” She waited until he had done so before getting up and walking to the large tub. The water was steaming and fragrant with whatever the handmaidens had put in it. Jessie gave a jump when Muffy began to tug at the sheet wrapped about her, but let it go to step into the water.

Ayan sat on the edge of the tub, facing away from her with her arms crossed, sulking. Muffy and Tuffy, however, seemed to take to their task happily. They chattered inanely above her, slapping her hands aside whenever she tried to do something on her own. Hearing Calum speak in English amidst all their yammering was a surprisingly welcome sound. “They wonder why you have cut your hair so short.”

“There’s regulations to how long your hair can be and I didn’t want to bother with braiding it every morning.” She suffered through it having her body washed. The women seemed to approve of her nails, which were kept short but were strong and unbroken. They tutted over old scars that were from both her time with the Marines and from an old and nearly forgotten past. One time she tried to get out but they pushed her back in, apparently not yet satisfied with her hair.

When she was finally clean enough to satisfy Muffy and Tuffy, she got out of the tub. They stopped her from drying herself off, rubbing her with oil and smelled faintly like the cologne that Dr. Frazier always wore, light and fresh. Finally they did dry her off and helped her into a new gown, another creation of multiple layers of sheer cloth. A pair of sandals was produced for her to wear as one of the women combed her short hair flat.

“There. Happy now?”

Calum inspected the result thoroughly before nodding. “I will take you to the holding cells, now.” He looked at the women and said something to them. They began to busy themselves with cleaning the remains of the bath and bed as he motioned Jessie to precede him through the door.

The ship was huge. In her head she counted the number of steps before each turn, but the place was like a labyrinth. The holding cells were several floors below them, a place that smelled of stale sweat and fear. The thought of her team being kept here while she had been given the opportunity to sleep in luxury was like a knife blade to her heart. The cells were empty until they came to one in the center of the detention level, guarded by two Jaffa.

Lt. Colonel Fellers was the only one who rose when the force field was taken down. A look of relief flashed across his face when he saw her, but he steeled himself again. “Captain.”

Once she had crossed over the entryway she immediately came to a parade rest. “Sir.” She looked at the rest of her team members. Jamison gave a brave smile, Rathbourne graced her with a scant nod and Simmons sent a playful wink her direction. “How are they treating you?”

“They stuck Jamison in that box of theirs and fixed his leg, haven’t tortured any of us unless you count the fact that they haven’t bothered to feed us.”

“You haven’t eaten?” A pang of guilt at the breakfast offered to her hit her. She turned to Calum. “Why hasn’t anything been brought to them?”

Calum arched a brow. “Our lord did not order it. If it concerns you, then perhaps you should ask it of him. Nicely.”

Fellers narrowed his eyes. It was obvious from the getup they had her in and a delicate, feminine fragrance that certainly wasn’t her sunscreen that O’Fallon was being kept somewhere other than the holding cells. He didn’t like the unspoken connotation in that suggestion made. “O’Fallon?”

She turned around to face him. He caught just a glimpse of something unsettling in her eyes before she steeled herself again. Fellers stepped until he was only a foot from her. He pitched his voice low. “How are you holding up, Marine?”

She swallowed. “Better than a shrink would expect, Sir, but not as well as I would have hoped from myself.” She lifted her chin in defiance. “It’s nothing myself and every other woman in the military hasn’t been told about.”

A knife twisted in Fellers’ gut. He heard the rest of his team make disgruntled noises about him. They all knew it was reality, an added danger that was often used as an argument against women in combat situations. Still, that it had happened to their captain made it more distasteful. Fellers kept his voice soft. “You’ll get through this, Captain. He can’t break you unless you let him. Just slot him under the same heading as KP; bear him and put him behind you.”

A slight smile tugged at her mouth. “Yes, Sir. I will, Sir.”

“It is time for us to go.” Fellers shot the snake’s lackey a dirty look, to which the man merely arched a brow. “Our lord has ordered that I bring her to him on the bridge. We are expected.”

“You heard the man, Captain. Mustn’t keep our host waiting.” He tried to give her an encouraging smile, but it just wouldn’t come. His team was his responsibility, and although he knew that O’Fallon was a capable officer and a fine Marine, he couldn’t help but worry about her. Was this was Colonel O’Neill felt like whenever that archeologist of his fell into the clutches of some off-world femme fatale? How the hell did the man say as sane was he was?

He watched his 2IC leave with the lackey, his jaw tight. Jamison gave a growl and hit his hand on the wall behind him.

~***~

She was taken to what was apparently the command center of the ship. Camulus sat on an elevated throne in the center of the room. A Jaffa was at the control console. When he heard the door open, Camulus turned his head briefly to note who had entered before looking back to the front. He extended a hand in their direction without saying a word. Jessica stood motionless until Calum whispered to her, “Go to him.”

Jessica took a deep breath before walking into the room. Figuring it was what she was meant to do, she slipped one of her hands into the outstretched one with as little pressure as possible. Camulus’ fingers closed around her own and he tugged gently to indicate for her to move closer. “You have seen your fellow Tau’ri?” He did not look at her, but at the port ahead of him. Calum walked around the room until he was standing on the opposite side of the throne from her.

“Yes, I have.” Her eyes flicked to Calum who gave her a meaningful nod. “Th…thank you.” This seemed to be what the lotar was looking for. “I… they apparently have not been given anything to eat or drink. I…” Damn, this was hard! Now she had to ask favors from him?! “Apparently no one has been ordered to do so.”

She hoped that would be enough. Camulus caressed the palm of her hand with his thumb, sitting in silence for a long moment before speaking. “Are you trying to ask something of me?”

She took another breath. “Yes, yes I am. Could you have someone take food and water to my team… please?”

He finally looked at her, his expression difficult to read as he brought her wrist to his lips and pressed a kiss over her pulse. She managed to keep herself from jerking her hand away as he smiled. “Was that so difficult? Calum,” the lotar responding by stepping closer, “have food and water taken to the prisoners in the holding cells. Let them eat as well as Jessica.”

It was clear to Jessica now that this had just been another mind game for him. He had wanted her to ask him to do this simple, humane thing so that he would have another bit of power over her. Her stomach clenched with rage and she was grateful that he turned his attention back to the screen. “Lord Ares has signaled us that he well be arriving soon. You will be there while we meet. You are not to speak unless a question is directed to you specifically.” He turned his gaze back to her with a smile. “And it would be preferable that you not try to kill him, no matter how annoying he may be.”

Jessie thought that he might be teasing her. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes a bit. “I’ll try to keep a handle on my emotions.”

A mother ship exited hyperspace and came to a halt before them. A moment later the face of a handsome man with a resonating voice filled the screen. “Greetings, Lord Camulus.”

“Greetings, Lord Ares. You are late.”

The other Goa’uld did not address the reminder. “We are ready to meet with you regarding our… disagreement.”

“And we are ready to receive you. You may transfer aboard at your convenience.” The screen went dark. Camulus stood up without releasing her hand and walked towards the door opposite the way she came in. “I have decided not to let Ares and the other System Lords know of the capture of your team. They do not need to know anything other than that you have come into my possession.”

Jessica frowned. “If that’s the way you want it.”

Camulus stopped and turned towards her. “If the other system lords learned that I have five Tau’ri warriors in my possession, then they will insist that I release the others to them for questioning. Your… team… would not enjoy their methods.” Another bit of blackmail to hold over her head. Jessie swallowed hard but nodded to indicate that she understood. She focused her gaze on the narrow arrow point he wore about his neck so she wouldn’t have to see him smirk as he reached up to smooth a hand over her hair.

They greeted Ares in one of the ring rooms. Goa’ulds always chose the most pleasing slaves to be their hosts, and this one was no different. Unlike Camulus, his host had blond hair and wasn’t quite as well built. Still, he was tall and impressive, and obviously just as full of himself. He gave her a disdainful look that she forced herself not to acknowledge. Together they went to a richly appointed room where refreshments were laid out. Ares sat down in one of the chairs, giving the room an appraising look. “I see you have acquired a new pet, Camulus. However, this one lacks the attractiveness of your other amusements.”

Camulus trailed a finger over her upper arm. “Jessica has other talents to recommend her.” He offered her a drink from his cup as he turned his attention to his guest. “I believe that you are claiming ownership over part of my domain.”

They ‘discussed’ matters for a long time, often yelling at one another. A time or two she thought they might actually come to blows, and was disappointed when they did not. If they had managed to kill each other it could only serve to make her life easier. Eventually they managed to hash out a tenuous agreement over who owned what. Ares was still displeased, and made that displeasure known with an abrupt and rude exit.

Once he was gone Camulus plucked a crimson fruit from the tray before him and bit into it. She kept her eyes on the table before her, refusing to look up. “You will have to learn to be more gracious to our guests, Lady. The system lords are proud sort and easily insulted, but you have time to correct your manners.” He extended the other half of the fruit and held it to her lips. When she did not accept it, he ate it himself.

“How long do you intend to keep me here?”

“Were you not paying attention when I bedded you?” She looked up at him with a glare at the reminder. He smirked at her expression. “You will serve me for the rest of your days.” He leaned back in his chair and raked his dark gaze over her. The inspection made her bristle.

“In what capacity? You’re bound to eventually grow bored with having me for a bed warmer.”

He arched a brow in her direction. “That is what the handmaidens are for.”

“Ah, right.” She looked back at the table, biting her tongue to keep from making some sarcastic remark. She could feel the weight of his gaze upon her as though it were something tangible. Her mind was turning with all possible scenarios. She was in the middle of trying to figure out how she’d ditch Calum and Camulus long enough to try and get a message out in an attempt to signal help when a pair of strong hands grabbed her by the waist and lifted her out of her chair. She found herself now sitting on the table she had been staring at, right in front of Camulus.

He leaned back in his chair again, resting one arm upon it and placing his cheek against his index finger as he looked up at her speculatively. “Your ‘team’, you care about their safety, do you not?”

She frowned, sensing a trap. “Of course.”

“What are they to you?”

“They are my team, we work as a unit.”

“They are all men.” He took his other than and trailed it up her leg, pushing the gown upwards as it moved. He left the fabric bunched over one knee and began to stroke her calf in a lazy rhythm. “Is there not one of them who means more to you than the others? Perhaps one that is… close to you?”

A chill crept down her spine. “No, there isn’t. We’re soldiers. We work together.” She forced herself to remain calm. “Besides, you should know better than anyone else that there isn’t.”

The smirk returned. “True.” He let his hand travel upwards so that the backs of his fingers brushed the inside of her thigh. “What would you be willing to do to ensure their safety?”

“I thought I was already ensuring their safety.” Her stomach clenched. “Isn’t that why I’m here with you rather than in a cell with them?”

“Perhaps I should make myself more clear.” He leaned forward, the broad expanse of his torso forcing her legs apart. He pushed the gown up so that it lay bunched against the tops of her thighs, resting his bare arms against her as he clasped his hands behind her back. “What would you be willing to do to ensure their safe return back through the Stargate? What would you do to send them home?”

She stiffened, warning bells going on in her mind. She suddenly felt like a steak dinner, and it wasn’t a pleasant sensation. “What, exactly, are you saying?”

Camulus reached up to trail a finger down the front of the gown, slipping it between the layers that crossed over her chest. “I really have no need of four Tau’ri soldiers. My interests in this galaxy rarely cross the areas where your people go. In truth, it was only my good fortune that my Jaffa and I were out hunting on the same world as your… what exactly were you doing?”

“Exploring. We’re explorers.”

“Of course. Exploring the galaxy and waging war with a race far more advanced than yourselves all at the same time. Highly ambitious of you.”

“You have no need to keep my team. So why don’t you just let us go now?”

“Not ‘us’, just them. You are staying here. That is not negotiable. What is negotiable, however, is how you stay here.”

“Meaning?”

He stood up so quickly that she gasped and jerked backwards. His eyes flashed as he leaned forward, forcing her to lean back but at the same time keeping his hands positioned so she couldn’t completely recline. “You can either stay as though you were a prisoner, constantly under guard and without privacy, or you can stay of your own will and, eventually, earn a place of trust.”

“What has that got to do with my team?” She tried to scoot backwards on the table away from him, but he held her fast.

“If you give me your word as a warrior, as a soldier, that you will remain and give me no trouble, I’ll will be willing to leave your team on the next world with a functioning Stargate so that they may return home.” He used one hand to pull her hips forward, bringing them flush against the hardening arousal beneath the short battle skirt he wore. “If you stay willingly your life will be one of comfort and pleasures, secure in the knowledge that you have saved the lives of those with whom you serve.”

“And if I don’t stay willingly?” The blood was pounding in her ears and it was all she could do to concentrate on keeping her voice steady. Camulus responded to her discomfort with a feral smile.

“Then I offer your team up to the other System Lords, to Baal, perhaps. You will remain here as a captive and,” he ground her hips against him, “I will still have the pleasure of your company.”

She flinched at the contact, still sore from before. “I will not turn traitor,” she advised around her clenched teeth.

“I am not asking you to. I have no interest in Earth. You do not have to tell me anything of your armies and defenses, and if you give yourself over to me willingly, I will not allow the other system lords to demand them of you either.” He lowered his face to her collarbone, trailing his lips across the skin there without actually kissing her. She bit back a whimper of shame when the sensation sent trickles of electricity over her, causing her nipples to harden painfully.

Pitch a bitch and her team is surrendered to torture and death. Agree to become the whore of an alien whose race was bent on the destruction of her world and there was a chance that four good soldiers could return home to keep up the fight, possibly even get her back one day. He couldn’t be trusted, of course, no Goa’uld could. “I have some conditions.”

He rose up to look down at her, one brow arched as though he found her amusing. “Speak.”

“All the gear goes with them, mine included, and I’m the one who packs it. And I want to be there to see them go through the gate.”

“You do not trust me.”

“Would you?”

He smiled at her, a predatory expression that made her want to run and hide. Strong arms wrapped about her and pulled her close to him. “And in exchange you will stay and do as I command?”

She swallowed. She was damned if she did and damned if she didn’t. The bitter truth of it all was that either way he had her. Even if he did not keep his part of the bargain she was still a prisoner. On the other hand, if she had even the slightest chance of getting her team home in one piece, she had to take it. Taking a deep breath she looked up at Camulus, locking onto a pair of dark brown eyes. For a moment, she wondered what sort of man his host had been. Had he been a soldier? A general? A king? Or had he just been a handsome face and body, perhaps a farmer with a wife and children. That man, whomever he had been, had been handsome, someone she would have taken a second look at, if not a third. He was also gone, a prisoner in his own mind, forced to watch someone else use his body to commit untold evil. Perhaps, if she could focus, she could imagine it was he touching her rather than the snake pulling the strings.

“Agreed.”

The brown eyes flashed, reminding her that this was a Goa’uld after all. He released his grip on her and reached behind his neck. She sat still as he removed the braided leather and narrow arrowhead he wore from his own body. He tied about her own throat before grasping her chin and tilting her face to him. There was a proprietary gleam in those eyes now and the new decoration around her neck suddenly felt more like a collar and leash than a necklace.

He released her chin and ran his hands down her arms, raking his gaze over her. “Pity.”

Her blood froze. “Pity?”

“That it is so soon after your breaching. You will still be too tender to accommodate me, and it would serve no purpose to put you in the sarcophagus.” He stopped leaning over her and stood her on her feet. The shock and confusion she was feeling must have been clearly etched onto her features, because he laughed before he spoke again. “I told you, Jessica; your life will be one of comfort and pleasure. You need more time to adjust. I will have Calum bring the items taken from you and your team so that you may arrange them as you see fit.”

He left her there, leaning against the table and feeling as though she had lost more than she had initially bargained for.

~***~

She made sure that the grenades and ammunition were accounted for. She put them in the bottom of the packs so that her team wouldn’t be tempted to try and take out any of the Jaffa when they were brought to the gate. She packed all but one of the GDOs, keeping her own out to signal the SGC to open the iris. The rest was pretty innocuous stuff; spare clothing, kits for samples, first aid kits and rations.

The five camouflage packs and all the gear had been brought to the bedchamber for her attention. Calum remained as she worked, a faithful guard dog to keep her from going back on her word. In truth, she was pretty sure she could take him, but that would still leave Camulus and an undisclosed number of Jaffa to get through. It was best to play along for now. Besides, Calum was hardly a bother. He busied himself with polishing several of the swords hanging on the walls, making sure each blade was honed to razor sharpness.

The door slid open and the triplets reappeared, the nice ones giggling and Ayan looking smug. Jessie rolled her eyes at the strut the blonde was using and guessing she knew why the woman looked so pleased with herself. She turned her attention back to her task, making sure that everything was packed so that it would all fit. It wasn’t until she heard a strangled gasp from off to her right that she looked up again. Ayan was staring at her, eyes wide with shock and looking physically ill. Jessie arched a brow at her. “Calum? What’s her problem this time?”

The lotar looked over to see what Jessie was talking about and smirked. “She’s just realized that her position has become even more precarious.”

“Huh?”

Calum went back to sharpening the sword in his hand. “As a mere handmaiden, Ayan is subject to whatever desires Lord Camulus feels at the time. Although she has been a favorite for some time now, she can easily be discarded. You now have the power to banish her all together.”

Jessie blinked. She turned her full attention to Calum. “How do you figure that?”

Calum was about to answer, but his expression quickly turned to one of horror. Jessica whirled around quickly just in time to deflect a swipe of a knife. She threw Ayan to the side, noting that the woman had somehow gotten hold of one of the blades Calum had taken down for polishing. The handmaiden glared at her from a crouched position on the floor, snarling with rage before she leapt again.

The other handmaidens shrieked, the brunette running out of the room and shouting in that funny language of theirs. Jessie didn’t have time to bother about it, however. She was more intent on not getting killed. Calum was shouting angrily at Ayan and Ayan, of course, was saying something at Jessie. She couldn’t understand a word of it, but she’d wager that it wasn’t complimentary.

“Okay, Buffy. I know you’re upset, but you really don’t want to do this.”

The other woman moved a bit to the left, enough so that something shining by the corner of her eye was caught by the light. Crap, the woman was crying! She was dealing with a jealous lover and it was all that jackass of a system lord’s fault! She lunged at Jessie again, but this time she found herself thrown to the floor, the arm holding the knife pulled up behind her at a painful angle and a foot on the back of her neck.

“Give me the knife, Ayan.” Jessie gripped the hilt of the knife and twisted it. Between the pressure her other hand was exerting around the woman’s wrist and the force of the twist, the blonde relinquished the blade. Jessie tossed it onto the bed, not willing to let the she cat up until she was certain the other woman wouldn’t make a second attempt on her life. “Calum, tell her that if she promises to behave herself, I’ll let her up.”

The man didn’t respond. Jessie looked up and saw that he was looking down at Ayan with an expression of mixed disgust and anger. “Calum?”

“You may execute her yourself if you wish. I’m sure our lord will not mind.”

She felt her jaw drop a bit. “Execute her? I hardly think I’m in the position to be executing anyone. And I’m not going to hold a broken heart against her.”

“Her crime is punishable by death. Lord Camulus will likely dispose of her if you choose not to do so yourself.” His voice was cold, unfeeling.

“It’s a crime to try to kill the chief bed warmer?”

Calum blinked, and then straightened his shoulders. “It is a crime to raise a hand against the Lady Camulus.”

A numb sort of buzzing started somewhere in the back of her head, swiftly spreading to fill her cranium. She really didn’t like the sound of that. “Come again?”

Calum gave her a puzzled look. “She attempted to assassinate you, our lord’s new bride. Such a crime carries a death sentence.”

Jessie’s hold on the handmaiden slackened and she stepped off of her neck to allow the blond to scramble away from her. “Bride? No one said anything about bride.” The numbness was starting to spread to her whole body.

“You accepted Lord Camulus’ proposal to stay by his side, he placed the sigil of his power around your neck. You are the Lady Camulus.”

The air within the room suddenly felt very thing. “Nnnnnnnoooooo… I’m pretty sure I would have remembered agreeing to that.” Was it too late to beg to go with the rest of the team? “Get him in here. Now.”
“My Lady?”

“Don’t call me that and get that over muscled, self-absorbed jackass in here! Right! Now!”

As if on cue the door slid open. Camulus entered, his face a study of fury and the missing handmaiden talking up to him with her hands gesticulating rapidly. Jessica was about to open her mouth to hurl either a question or an insult, she wasn’t sure which yet, but was shocked into silence as the Goa’uld crossed the room to a now cowering Ayan and picked her up by the throat.

Ayan began to plead with him. Her face was not as lovely as it usually seemed, not with the cosmetics she used smeared from her tears. He had lifted her off the ground and her delicate feet kicked feebly. The blonde’s face started to turn an ugly shade of red.

“Stop it!” Jessie lunched forward and gripped Camulus’ wrist. “Let her go!”

Camulus dropped the struggling woman and turned his gaze upon her. “I was told that she tried to kill you.”

Jessica faltered, not sure she wanted to tell the truth but not sure what the repercussions would be if she lied. Calum, however, was willing to supply the answer. “That is true, My Lord. Ayan took one of the blades I was tending for you and attacked Lady Jessica with it.”

Jessie shot the lotar a scathing look, but he was unaffected. Camulus’ deep, resonating voice drew her attention again. “Then her life is forfeit.”

“Wait!”

He leveled his gaze back upon her. “You wish to kill her yourself?”

“No, I don’t wish to kill her myself. I don’t wish you to do it, either! If she did try to kill me it’s all your fault!”

Calum straightened in alarm but Camulus held a hand up to silence him. “How, Jessica, is Ayan’s attempt to kill you my doing? Are you suggesting I sent her to be rid of you?”

So, apparently having a Goa’uld in your head did not keep a man from being dense. “No, I’m not. I’m saying she was acting out of her own pain. She’s your favorite snuggle-bunny for how long? And now, all of the sudden, you bring me into the picture and she’s no longer sitting so pretty? Those tears didn’t start after she failed to kill me they started before. She worships you, and you broke her heart.”

“You pity her.”

Jessie rolled her eyes. “And of course the man who’s been alive for centuries still hasn’t figured out women. I sympathize with her. Many a woman has tried to kill the mistress when she finds her husband cheating.”

One corner of the Goa’uld’s mouth quirked upwards. “Yet, in this case it is the mistress who tried to kill the wife.”

The numbness that had faded returned in full force. “Yeah, we’re gonna talk about that real soon. Right now I’m more interested in what you’re going to do with Ayan.”

Camulus glanced down at the shaking woman crumpled at his feet. “Since you do not wish her executed, I shall find another task for her. Calum, have this filth separated from the loyal handmaidens. When we return home she will be given to the human guards. Let her ply her skills with them.”

“What?! You can’t do that!” He turned his gaze back to Jessica, his expression darkening. She swallowed, trying to tamp down on the fear quickly building within her. “Don’t do that to her. No woman deserves that.”

“You would spare her any punishment? One should never leave an enemy alive, Jessica. They can return to bury a knife in your back.”

Jessie took a breath. She didn’t like Ayan, never even liked her type, but there was something pitiable in the woman now huddled on the floor before Camulus. Her body was wracked by sobs, every rough intake of breath like a knife blade to the heart. “Please, don’t do that to her. She’s suffering enough as it is.”

He seemed to weigh her words carefully. He kept his eyes locked with her’s as he started to speak to Ayan in Goa’uld. The woman’s head snapped up with a gasp, eyes wide as she stared up at Camulus, then at Jessica. Jessie was holding her breath; uncertain of what was being said until the handmaiden scampered on all fours from the spot before Camulus to bury her face in the gown Jessie wore. Slender arms that had tried to kill her earlier were now wrapped around her legs as though she were a piece of driftwood in a storm-ridden sea.

“What did you say to her?”

Camulus smiled. “I told her that you have asked me not to kill her, that she owes her life to you. She is grateful, as she should be.”

Jessie weighed his words carefully, trying to see if she could detect any falsehoods in them, and nodded. “Thank you.”

Camulus nodded his head in acknowledgement of her thanks and then looked towards Calum. “Take the handmaidens back to their quarters.” The lotar nodded and came forward to pry Ayan from Jessica’s legs. Jessica looked up and saw that the other two handmaidens were cuddled together, their eyes wide and staring in her direction. When Calum pulled Ayan out of the chamber, the others followed.

Jessica let out a breath she wasn’t aware she had been holding. She closed her eyes, relieved that she didn’t have to watch a lovesick woman having her neck snapped. The presence of a warm body now much closer to her than before made her look up again. It wasn’t fair that someone that big could move with such stealth and she suddenly felt far more vulnerable than before.

“You appear to be adjusting to your new position well, Lady.”

Of course, there was a reason she was mad at him. Jessica banished any traces of fear and apprehension from her face. “Wife?”

He smiled down at her, one hand rising to straighten the arrowhead dangling at her throat. “It is not a title bestowed lightly, Jessica. Few women have proven themselves worthy of the title and it has been… twenty of your Tau’ri years since the death of my last wife.”

“You never said anything about ‘wife’.”

“What did you think I was offering?”

“I thought you were just bored and looking for a new playmate. You’ve made a big mistake, believe me. I am not marriage material.” She stepped back from him so she could begin to pace the short area between the table and bed. “You’ve known me for… what… three days? How could you possibly think that I’d be a good candidate for a wife?”

He approached her and halted her pacing by taking one of her upper arms into a large, calloused hand. “Your strength, your courage… your bravery. Few women shine as you do, Jessica. My daughter, Bodicea, was the last woman warrior I knew with your fierceness.”

“Yeah, but she was a Goa’uld. You’re all a little screwed up anyway.”

Camulus’ eyes flashed, giving her pause. To her surprise, however, he did not seem to want to punish her for the insult. “Bodicea was not Goa’uld. She was the daughter given to me by Cyan, another of my past wives.”

“You mean you really have children with these women? How many do you have?”

“I have only one living son at this time. Cumhail, the greatest of my generals. He was given to me by Ophelia, the last of my wives.”

“And what happened to her?”
Camulus’ gaze turned dark. “She was poisoned by a handmaiden who hoped to take her place. I had the woman whipped and then left outside the quarters where the rest of her kind are kept to bleed to death. A warning to the rest of the handmaidens not to take action against their betters.”

Jessica swallowed. “I’m sorry for your loss.” Oh crap! She actually meant that! She was starting to feel sympathy for the man… snake… whatever. “What of the handmaidens. You seem to enjoy them. Don’t you have children with them?”

“Handmaidens are pets, unworthy of being blessed with their god’s child. Only wives carry that honor.”

A niggling sense of dread worried at the back of her mind. “Are you… are you going to put a symbiote in me?” Her voice was softer than she would have liked, as though she was afraid. Camulus, to her surprise, laughed.

“I have a queen in my court already, Jessica.”

She frowned. “Then why…”

“Cerridwen is an ally, a means to strengthen my armies, nothing more. I prefer human females when it comes to more… intimate companionship. A Goa’uld queen is calculating and cold. Human women hold a passion and fire that cannot be matched, even by us.”

“You never said I was going to be a wife. I never wanted to be a wife to anyone.”

“And yet a wife you are.” He pulled her to him, wrapping large arms about her more slender frame. “And a wife you will be until the end of your days. You will shed the last of your ties to Earth when we send your fellow soldiers through the gate, and all that will be for you will be myself and the treasures I give you.”

Jessica shook her head, not wanting to agree to any of this. “You gave me your word as a warrior, Jessica of the Tau’ri. Have your people forgotten the meaning of honor and the value of keeping your word?” She closed her eyes, not wanting to willingly stumble any further into his trap.

Camulus shifted his hold so that he could tilt her face up to his. He pressed his lips to her own as she remained unmoving. He raised his head again slightly. “I grow weary of your attempts to keep yourself from me, Jessica. Or perhaps the trouble lies with your being untouched and untrained in the ways of pleasure. I think perhaps I agreed to spare Ayan too quickly. Observation of her with the guards might give you a better idea…”

She silenced him by kissing him. She didn’t want to think of watching a woman being raped by who knew how many men. She didn’t have the best experience to draw from, but her more willing response was all he required. He had more than enough knowledge to take control. He teased and coaxed her into what he sought, teaching her how to kiss him back in the process. With his expert guidance she soon began to feel a growing eagerness in her own responses.

When he broke the kiss she was gasping slightly for air and her hands were gripping him by the shoulders. “Hurry and recover from your breaching, Lady. I am eager for your company again.” He let her slide down the length of his torso and she realized that he had managed to lift her from the floor without her noticing it. He moved away from her slowly, apparently not wanting her to lose her balance.

“Finish preparing the items to be sent back with your team, Jessica. The sooner Earth and its people are behind you, the sooner you can begin to accustom yourself to your place with me.” He moved to turn away and caught sight of something on the bed. Jessica wondered at his pause until he reached down to the bed and reclaimed the blade Ayan had attacked her with. Of course he would have to notice that. She watched in silence as he returned it to it’s place on the wall and reset the force barrier.

~***~

“What’s going on here, Captain?” Fellers looked over Jessica’s shoulder to keep his gaze trained on the Goa’uld. To his thinking the man looked far too pleased with himself.

“You’re being set free, Sir.” She tried to keep her gaze level, but this was tearing her up inside. “He’s agreed to let you go back through the gate to Earth.”

“And you?”

Jessie took a deep breath and shook her head. “That was the deal, Sir. I agree to stay, and you go free.”

“That’s not acceptable, Captain.”

“I know it isn’t, Sir, but it was the best I could do.”

Fellers glared at the Goa’uld. “I don’t suppose you’ll at least tell us your name. I need it so we can tell the Asguard where to aim their weapons.”

Camulus smiled. “The Tau’ri are amusing, I will admit to that much. It will be easier for all of you if you do not know where she is. It is better that she leave her old life behind.”

“She happens to like her ‘old life’.”

The Goa’uld’s eyes flashed and a cold smirk touched his lips. Fellers tightened his grip on his unloaded P90 as the alien lifted a hand to run his fingers through O’Fallon’s flame orange hair. “I believe she will come to like her new life even more.”

Jessica closed her eyes, willing herself to remain strong. Her heart was hammering wildly in her chest as she silently prayed that the team wouldn’t do anything foolish. She couldn’t even bring herself to look at any of the others. She opened her eyes again when she heard her CO’s defiant words. “We’ll get you back, Captain. I promise you that.”

Jessie tried to smile. “I know, Sir.” Her reward was a growl from the Goa’uld behind her and a firm handgrip on her shoulder. He pulled her away from her CO and flush with his own chest. The move was wholly possessive in nature.

“Leave, Tau’ri, while I’m still in the mood to be generous.”

Fellers gave him one last scathing look before he nodded for his team to go through the gate. He focused his eyes on O’Fallon’s, trying to send her a message to be brave, to be a good soldier until they could return for her. With great reluctance he turned away and walked through the portal.

The gate disconnected and the even horizon vanished. To Jessie it was like a door slamming shut on her life. Camulus allowed her a moment of silence before signaling to the transport ship to bring them back aboard. The rings of the transporter came down about them and she felt the disconcerting tingle of the energy beam as it took her away from the planet’s surface. The interior of the vessel seemed dark and foreboding as Camulus lowered his head to whisper in her ear. “Forget them.”

For once in her life, Jessica was intelligent enough not to make some smart-ass comment back. Something told her that, right now, telling him what he could go do with himself might not be the brightest move. She had made her bargain and her team was safely home. She’d dialed the gate herself and had added a ‘911’ to the GDO code to let them know it was an emergency. Doubtless the team would be isolated while every test imaginable was run on them, but in the end she was confident that Hammond would acknowledge the truth, that she had sold herself for their lives.

When they docked on the mother ship he left her in the care of Calum to be taken back to the bedchamber. The first thing she noticed was new clothing that had been laid out on the bed, Muffy and Tuffy standing close by. Instead of the usual scarves masquerading as a dress, this was a close fitting top and pants. Calum noted her interest and smiled. “Lord Camulus commanded that you be provided with something better suited to training.”

“What kind of training?”

“Combat, I believe. After you have changed I am to bring you to him in the salle.”

Jessie blinked, but quickly shook off her confusion when Tuffy began trying to remove her clothing. “Hey,hey,hey! I can’t do that by myself.” She looked at Calum. “You, out!”

Calum blinked. “My lady, I am here to assist…”

“No. I’m not doing a strip tease for you. Get out, and take the twins with you. I am perfectly capable of changing clothes all by myself.”

He hesitated for a moment but he did leave. And he did take the girls with him. The fact that he had done so left Jessie a little stunned, but she wasn’t about to question her good fortune. Not yet, anyway. She examined the clothing on the bed and decided that it would at least be a step up from over-fancied sleepwear.

Both pieces were black. The pants fit snugly around the waist, curved to the hips and fell straight down the upper portion of the legs to taper to a snug fit at her ankles. The fabric was stretchy enough to give if she needed to make any wide kicks. The top was, at least, supportive. She had been uncomfortable with having her chest unfettered for so long. She was thrilled to be back in something that was closer to being ‘normal’ clothing, giving herself a few stretching twists to make sure nothing bunched or rode up.

Calum was waiting outside the door when she opened it. He reminded her almost of a puppy waiting for someone to let him in. “So, where is he?”

“This way, My Lady.”

She started to follow him down the corridors. “Calum, please cut it with the ‘My Lady’ crap. Call me Jessica, Jessie or Jess if you have to address me, but if I can’t be called ‘Captain’, then I don’t want to have any kind of title.”

The lotar hesitated, missing a step. After a moment he nodded. “As you wish… Jessica… Jess.”

“Better. Just because I’m here against my will doesn’t mean we have to be at one another’s throats all the time.”

At this Calum did stop, turning around to face her. “My… Jess, I know that you may find Lord Camulus’ approach heavy handed, but I swear to you that he has only the most honorable of intentions towards you.”

Jessie gaped at him. “Honorable intentions? Just what do you think has happened here?”

“Lord Camulus has chosen you to be his Lady, to stand by his side in all matters. As a gift to you he has allowed four soldiers of the Tau’ri to return to their world, rather than hand them over to the other System Lords, as he should have done. He has taken a great risk to appease you.”

“So that’s how you see it.” She put her hands on her hips and took a step closer to him. “Let me tell you how things looked from where I was standing. Your ‘Lord Camulus’ and his foot soldiers captured myself and four Marines, taking us prisoner. He separated me, raped me,” she ignored Calum’s flinch at the use of that word, “and then blackmailed me by promising that if I didn’t agree to whatever he said not only would I spend the rest of my life as a prisoner to his whims, but that he would turn over four men who were like family to me to be tortured and killed. Heavy handed? Oppressive and demeaning is more like it!”

Calum took a deep breath, keeping his features stoic. “I regret that you feel that way. I only hope in time that you come to appreciate the honor Camulus has bestowed upon you by giving you such an exalted position.” He turned away and continued leading her down the corridors.

“Fat chance of that ever happening.”

He brought her into a large, open room with a polished wood floor and various melee weapons lining the walls. His task complete, Calum bowed to her and backed out. “No doubt running off to tell his master what I truly think of him.”

Once the door was closed she dared to try claiming one of the weapons from the wall. The charge that she received for her efforts did not surprise her, but it did have her still shaking her hand out when the door opened again.

He had lost the cloak and tunic. Oddly enough it didn’t make him any less intimidating. If anything, he looked even more unstoppable now that it was clear just how well defined his form was. Jessie wasn’t small as women went, but when faced with Camulus she felt positively petite. It wasn’t a comfortable sensation for her.

“Calum tells me that you are angry with me.” He walked over to the wall and selected two polished wooden staffs.

“Yeah, I kinda figured that he would.”

Camulus gave her a smug, superior smile before tossing one of the staffs to her. “It is I who should be upset with you.”

She hefted the staff in her hand. This was not a weapon she was used to. “Why should you be angry?”

“I am giving you the opportunity of a life by my side, and you are less than grateful. You should be overjoyed.” He held his staff behind his back with both hands. “However, I am able to examine this from your point of view. You are forced to give up your home and everything you knew to someone who was your enemy until just a few days ago.” He came to a standing position in front of her. “In fairness, I can see why you might not be happy.”

“Oh, you can see. That’s big of you.”

His smile changed to one that was almost gentle. “Strike me.”

Jessie blinked. “What?”

“Holding onto your anger will only make it more difficult for you to adjust. Strike me.”

“You want me to hit you.”

“I want you to at least make an attempt to hit me.”

“An attempt.” She shook her head at his arrogance. “I’ve never used a staff before.”

“Then you will learn something new this day. Strike me.”

Well, if that’s what he wanted, who was she to deny him? She adjusted her grip on the staff to something that felt both secure and comfortable before trying. It was, indeed, an ‘attempt’. He blocked her move with his own staff, batting it back easily. “Again.”

She did try. Not once did she actually land a blow anywhere on him. A few times he caught the staff with his hand, pulled her close and corrected something about her posture or grip. He was teaching her, and she was learning. Her fear and disgruntlement gave way to the usual bull-headedness that required her to excel in whatever was placed before her. Without even knowing it, he had found her Achilles Heel.

When her blows had become weary from her own fatigue, he called a halt to their session. Her shoulders burned from use and her clothing was damp with sweat. He hardly even looked winded. “You show great promise, Jessica. However, given the skills you already possess, this is hardly surprising.” He took the staff from her and returned both to their place on the wall. “Come.”

He walked out of the room without waiting to see if she responded. She considered staying put, but knew that she had to behave. He was bigger and stronger, and even if she did manage to get the upper hand, there was an army of Jaffa who would take her apart before she could escape. Her best bet still lay with her CO and the SGC mounting some kind of rescue. Resigned, she followed him back to his chambers.

Upon entering he ordered the handmaidens out. Jessie stood aside to allow them to exit, her eyes taking in the room. The tub was filled and steaming. Next to it was a small end table bearing a platter of fruits, another of those oddly shaped wine bottles and a single goblet. She felt her stomach clench. Apparently he felt that she had been granted enough time to recover from her ‘breaching’.

He motioned for her to come to him where he now stood, close to the large tub. She did so, avoiding his gaze. He reached down and began to untie the laces that fastened the top she wore. He removed it slowly, allowing his hands to rub against her skin before letting it fall away. He did the same for the pants, letting calloused palms run over her skin just enough for her to register the sensation that they were there. To her relief, he did not demand the same treatment in return, discarding the battle skirt he wore on his own before he lifted her up and stepped into the large tub.

It was an odd sensation to be surrounded by hot, steaming water but also resting against Camulus’ bare skin. She had started to get over her feeling of smallness during the sparring/training session, but now she felt it again in full force with the broad expanse of chest behind her back. She tensed up when he began to smooth the water over her, rinsing the salt and sweat from her body. “Pour the wine.”

She couldn’t do that without turning around to face him. Taking a deep breath she turned and focused on the table, pointedly not looking at him. Concentrating on claiming the bottle and filling the goblet, she tried not to think about the hand trailing gently along her side. She took up the goblet and moved to put some distance between them but he stopped her, positioning her so that her legs were straddling his own.

Camulus took the goblet from her and drank deeply from it before holding it up to her. She accepted, but only took a modest drink. She would rather remain sharp and alcohol dulled the senses. He took it from her and leaned back, his arms resting on the edges of the tub, one hand holding the wine and the other handing her a fragrant bar of solid soap. The unspoken command was clear.

She took the soap and worked it into a lather with her hands. Keep focused. Slot him under KP. Bear him and move past him. She ran the lather over his now empty hand and up his arm as he closed his eyes, a satisfied smile on his lips. She tried to ignore the way the corded muscles of his arms relaxed under her ministrations, tried to shrug off her grudging admiration of the physical body.

The water came to just above his waist and very nearly to her own, leaving a wide expanse of his torso to her access. She swallowed, trying to bring some moisture to a suddenly dry throat. He raised the hand with the wine goblet to his lips, making her jump in surprise. His eyes were open again, watching her as he took a deep drink of the wine. She realized her lips were now dry and licked them out of reflex before bathing the rest of the exposed flesh.

She used her hands to bring up water and rinse the soap from him. He remained relatively still until she was done. Once the last of the lather was transferred from him to the water, he took one of her hands and placed the goblet within it. “Drink.”

She shook her head. “I don’t really…”

“Drink.” His tone was firm, but not overbearing. Still, it was clear that he would brook no argument. She took a small sip of the wine. The thick, sweet liquid was soothing on her heated tongue, encouraging her to take in more. She swallowed, lowered the goblet and licked her lips lightly to clean them of any traces before setting the goblet down on the edge of the tub, her hand wrapped around the stem to keep it from falling over.

It must have been because she hadn’t eaten since a light meal hours before, followed by him putting her through her paces with the staff training, but the wine seemed to be going to her head far too quickly. Her thoughts seemed blurred, her consciousness spinning. Yet, at the same time, everything seemed oddly sharp, focused to the point of crystal clarity. She was acutely aware of the hands that now moved over her own skin, cleansing the salt and sweat of her earlier exertions. Contrary to her usual instincts, however, she wasn’t really tempted to pull away.

Some distant part of her mind was impressed by the fact Camulus still had calluses on his hands. The Goa’uld were known for doing nothing for themselves, of being pampered and spoiled. That he did anything that would cause his hands to be rough was a contradiction to what she had been trained to believe. Jessie hadn’t had much use for men, but the few she did admire always had roughened hands. They were soldiers, men who laid their lives on the line for the sake of others. She was drawn to their strength and their courage.

Those same hands were surprisingly gentle as they smoothed heated water over her skin, rinsing her clean. The cool air that caressed over her in the wake of the water made her shiver. Instinct made her seek out the warm body close to her, but she was held back so that he could trail his lips down the length of her neck. Her eyes closed as she leaned into the touch, unaware of the soft moan that came from her.

Strong arms gathered around her and she felt the muscles of his legs bunch as he stood up. Her fingers lost their tentative grip on the wine goblet, letting it fall to the floor outside of the tub as Camulus carried her to the large bed. She was trying to form some type of protest but was distracted when he kissed her. Her hands seemed to take on a mind of their own, fingers entwining in his thick hair to keep him with her as he lowered her down onto the bed and covered her with his own weight.

Her skin felt as though it were on fire, oversensitive to even the lightest touch. He wrung gasps from her as he kneaded and caressed her, exploring every inch of her at his leisure. He trailed a hand lazily up the inside of her left thigh until his fingers could slide into her slick heat. The touch made her buck in reflex, but she couldn’t move very far with him holding her down as she was.

She was shaking, her breathing ragged. Coherent thought or speech was an impossibility. When he moved one of her legs over his hip, allowing him to enter her, she felt as though she would fly apart. He was everywhere at once, surrounding her and within her at the same time. Her hands clutched and clawed at him, trying to pull him further inside of her as she rocked with his thrusts.

Fire exploded within her; robbing her of what little breath she had remaining. Some distant part of her mind registered the fact that she was sobbing, tears pouring from her eyes. Camulus cradled her close, muttering softly to her as she came back down from her high and began to breath a little more normally.

Then he began to move again, and the entire ride started all over.

~***~

Calum had been lotar to Lord Camulus for ten years, ever since he was first elevated to the position at the age of twenty-five. Most System Lords chose a slave for such a position. Such was not true for Calum. His family had never been considered to be slaves as they were descended from one of his lord’s own children, born to him by one of his mortal wives centuries before. Camulus kept a close eye on his human descendants, tracking their genealogy and even arranging their marriages if he saw fit to do so.

Because he had been so long in the service of his god, he knew well how to read the emotions and behaviors of Camulus. For example, he knew that his lord was currently less than pleased with how matters were progressing with his new wife. Calum kept his sighs to himself, keenly aware that his god and ancestor would not appreciate it if he let it be known that he felt he was able to understand why Lady Jessica kept herself from him. A prize of war she may be, but it had been a long time since the Tau’ri were under the rule of the Goa’uld. They no longer fully appreciated that a defeated enemy should accept their failure and take up the task set before them. ‘Jess’ was still determined to keep true to her old life, to her old identity, and did not see the great honor paid to her.

Camulus had agreed to his suggestion the cycle before, and he knew that his god had shared a pleasant evening with his wife. Lady Camulus had left long, rough gashes in her husband’s arms and back where she had unleashed her passions, but Camulus had healed these immediately in the sarcophagus. Had it not been for the means that had been employed to make her more agreeable in bed, he would have left them to heal on their own, wearing them as battle scars.

Lady Jessica was a puzzle, but not too great of one. She was still angry and humiliated by her capture, still pained by the loss of the soldiers she had served with. Her reticence was to be expected, even though Calum would not admit it out loud. He felt that, in time, she would be an asset to his lord’s house. Until then, great patience would be required.

He was grateful when it came time for him to leave Camulus’ presence to see to Lady Jessica… Jess. She did not wish to be acknowledged as ‘Lady’ and he could not call her ‘Captain’. Jess sounded too masculine for a woman, but the new Lady Camulus was not some dainty creature bred to a life of luxury. She was a warrior and truly worthy of her husband, if she would but just see it for herself. As lotar it was his place to make sure that his god and his god’s wife were both well cared for. Jess was still not eating as she should, and he was still uncertain of her likes and dislikes. She needed more than fruit to keep her healthy but so far had rejected other offers. This time he was going to try to force the issue by not offering any fruits at all, but instead ordered the kitchens to provide richer, heartier fare.

He did not bring the handmaidens with him this time as he sensed that Jess was uncomfortable with their presence. At first he had suspected it to be jealousy over the fact that they were intimately acquainted with Lord Camulus. Now, however, he suspected that it was because Jess felt plain when next to them. Her coloring was unfortunate, but it was also part of what made her different from other women. She was as vibrant and bold as her hair. In truth, Calum admired her.

He carried the tray into the chamber. Jess was still abed, the coverlet pulled up over her shoulders. She was awake and her eyes moved up to note his entrance. He bowed his head in respect to her before placing her meal on the table. He had brought her sweet breads with cream and a rich egg dish, things to make up for her lack of sustenance since coming to them. She would no doubt be ravenous after her earlier exertions.

“The wine… it was drugged… wasn’t it?” He stilled, but did not answer her. He heard her shift on the bed behind him. “Calum?”

He took a deep breath. It did not surprise him that she had figured it out. “My Lord did not wish to resort to such measures, but you needed help in adjusting.” He poured water for her from the pitcher he had carried on the tray.

“Help. He should bottle whatever that was and market it on Earth. He’d make a fortune.” Her tone was bitter and cold. “What happened to his ‘honorable intentions’?”

“A husband wished to spend a pleasurable evening with his wife. What is not honorable about that?”

“The fact that he drugged me comes to mind.”

He turned around to face her. She had wrapped herself in the coverlet and was leaning back against the wall behind the bed. “Would you have allowed yourself to enjoy your husband’s touch without it?” Her jaw tightened as she avoided his gaze. “Then you see why it was done. Perhaps it would help if you ignored the means used and concentrated instead on what followed.”

Given that this was Lady Jessica, her continued silence was more likely an indication that she was attempting to do exactly the opposite. Calum held back a sigh. This marriage was not likely to be an easy one for his lord. “I have brought you your meal. Do you wish me to bring it to you there or would you rather come to the table?”

“I’m not hungry.”

By all the gods, the woman was a trial! “La… Jess, you must eat. Surely as a warrior you realize that you must keep up your strength. How else can you continue to torment your husband?” He winced at his own audacity. The Lady Camulus was not to be spoken to in such a fashion. Not even his blood connection to his god could protect him in the face of such rash behavior.

“Wow… sarcasm. I didn’t think you had it in you.” He heard her move on the bed and looked up to find that she had wrapped herself tightly in the coverlet and was approaching the table. He took a step back to allow her room to sit. “So what did you bring me?”

He was dumbstruck for a moment, but recovered quickly. Taking up the cream he poured it over the sweet breads as she poked experimentally at the eggs. “I apologize for the scant variety in dishes. When we have arrived at our home world there will be a greater selection for you to choose from.”

“It’s all going to be new to me, Calum.” She took a bite of the eggs as he watched on. When she took another bite he figured that she must have found them pleasing. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

“I will break my fast after your needs are seen to.”

“That’s silly. Have a seat.” He hesitated, but did as she commanded. She offered him half of the meal he had brought her. Not wishing to disturb what appeared to be a tentative peace between them, he accepted. “May I ask you something?”

“You may ask me whatever you wish.”

“Don’t you resent being a slave?”

“But I am not a slave.”

She frowned, confusion evidendent in her expression. “I thought that the only uses the Goa’uld had for humans were hosts and slaves.”

Calum smiled. He had forgotten that Lady Camulus was not aware of the differences between her husband’s domain and those of the other System Lords. “Lord Camulus has his slaves and his Jaffa, but he also has his wives and their children and their descendants. My family can be traced back to Lady Bridget, his seventh wife.”

“You’re related to him?” He nodded in confirmation. “Just how many wives has he had?”

“You are only the forty-ninth Lady Camulus.” She dropped the fork in her hand, her mouth slightly agape. “He does not take wives often, and usually there is a greater distance between them.”

“And just how big is this… family?”

“There are currently five hundred and thirty-seven direct descendants, thirty-eight once Cumhail’s wife is delivered of her recent babe.”

“And you all serve him?”

“Most of us, yes. Some of us serve in his personal guard and his household. Others serve as governors of worlds in his domain. It is only fitting that the descendants of a god serve him.”

“No wonder you’re so damn loyal.” She looked down at her barely touched meal, her freckles seeming to stand out more clearly against her paling skin.

“Are you well?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just… five hundred. I guess I was hoping he was joking about the ‘children’ part. He actually wants some?”

The usually defiant and proud warrior suddenly looked so much like a nervous and new bride that it was all Calum could do not to laugh. “He is not likely to rush you to childbed soon, Jess. You are young yet and have many fertile years ahead of you, and he will doubtless be reluctant to share you with a babe so soon.”

“Stop the ship. I want off.”

“You fear over nothing. Motherhood is a joy and a blessing, one that Lord Camulus will gladly bestow upon you.”

She shivered and drew the coverlet more tightly about her. “So, besides a little slap and tickle and the occasional baby, what does a ‘Lady Camulus’ do?”

“Anything she wishes, within reason. Your husband will not allow you to put your life in unnecessary danger, of course, so I am afraid you will not be allowed to take up the position of a soldier. You will be in charge of his household and will accompany him on diplomatic missions.” He hesitated before continuing. “But… the most important task of the Lady Camulus is to… temper our lord.”

She frowned at him again. “Huh?”

Calum took a breath before beginning. “I was only a boy when Lady Ophelia was murdered, but I was old enough to remember her. She was… the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Graceful and elegant. The people loved her as much as she loved them, and through her the rule of our lord was a joyous one.”

“How do you figure that?”

Calum reached across the small table and took one of Jess’ hands into both of his own. “As Lady Camulus, you are in the unique position to influence his actions. When his temper or his anger pushes him towards making brutal choices, the Lady Camulus can diffuse his rage and coax him to step back and rethink matters.”

“And how am I supposed to do that?”

He released her hand and leaned back in his chair. “A gentle touch to his arm, a soft word spoken to draw his attention to you. Get him to calm down. Lady Ophelia used to be able to calm him with only a kiss.”

She shifted in her chair, shaking her head. “I don’t think I’ll be ready to try that any time soon. I still don’t like him, remember?”

“I hope for all our sakes that you begin to, and soon.”

“Why?”

“He is not happy, Lady. The more you fight him the darker his mood becomes, and that could bode ill for all those under his rule. There are troubles within the domains of the System Lords. The faith of the Jaffa begins to falter, the Tok’ra infiltration… there are many things to test our lord’s temper. He will not take his anger out on you, even when it is you who is the main source of his displeasure at the moment. He will likely take it out on others for the slightest infraction.”

“More emotional blackmail?”

“I speak only the truth. You are displaced from your home and angry, but a new home is being offered to you. I can only urge you to accept it before someone else suffers for your stubbornness.” Her expression darkened and he realized at once that he might have gone too far. He tensed, wondering if she would strike out at him. He did not think that she would approach Camulus to ask for his life, she was still too set against her husband, but if she decided to kill him herself then he would not be allowed to raise a hand against her. Not even in defense.

She looked away from him and claimed one of the sweetbreads. Her demeanor was sullen and cross, but she did not appear to be angry enough to wish him harm. Rising from her seat she carried the sweet to the bed with her. “I want to be alone.”

Calum nodded. “As you wish.” He gathered the rest of the uneaten meal and left the chamber. He could not be certain, but he thought that he might have managed to get something across to her.

~***~

They were two days from