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FIC: Rain [week 2, rain]

Title: Rain
Author: trillingstar
Rating: G
Word count: ~750
Notes: Written for prompt #2, rain, on sga_saturday. Pre-canon.
Thank you to blackchaps ♥ who is a whiz at titles. ;)
Summary: Ronon, on the run.



Your mother told you that you'd always loved the rain.

You remember staring out the window in awe during thunderstorms, and you remember your sister dragging you away from the door; you wanted to be closer to the boom, closer to the energy that fizzed and crackled between dirt and sky.

Sometimes the whole house trembled from the force of the noise, rousing your father from his notes and books to tell stories about bored gods playing a game, bouncing planets into each other just for fun. You remember thinking that maybe your world would tilt and roll over, that maybe you'd go to sleep on the ceiling and eat your meals upside down.

You were a boisterous child, loud and gregarious, loving the sound of your own voice shouting, loving the thump of your feet on the ground. Rain calmed you, fascinated you, and you'd stop to watch it, sitting outside in the safety of thick, leafy kalah fronds and listening to its rhythms. Once a prickle-armored toad as big as your head surprised you there, and you froze, heart pounding, but it didn't hiss or ready for attack, just rested in the dry space for long minutes, mouth open and panting, then disappeared into the grass.

During training, your task master led you on hikes into the mountains, where hard, sharp rain stung your cheeks, and then down into the stretch of desert between cities, where it was oppressively hot and you wanted to shout with delight when the wind picked up and a sweet, clean rain kissed your face, though it lasted only minutes.

You loved rain because it was always different: a light patter, the ting! as it struck the metal roof; a heavier drizzle that forced everyone indoors, while you crept into the garden; an angry, lashing rainfall that left destruction in its wake; the whip of wind that preceded a cold, cleansing storm.

Your mother died in the rainy season. Sitting on the front window-bench in your childhood home, you watched water streaking down the panes, blurring everything outside; you remember how your sister wrapped you in furs and pressed glass after glass of hot apple jarsa into your hands. You drank it all down, and you did not cry, not until four moons after your mother's leaving-day, when water misted down so softly against your skin that it felt like the caress of her hand.

It rained on what was supposed to be your wedding day, a hard, punishing rain that beat against your naked back as you knelt in the mud by the altar. You were on duty that night and you didn't go, didn't care what happened, had no fear of the consequences. You only knew grief.

Kell should have ordered your execution, and right now, you wish that he had.

The cave you found is nothing more than a depression in the rock face of a steep cliff. You've fitted yourself in it by rounding your shoulders uncomfortably, legs folded up, with your chin on your knees. The overhang doesn't extend past your brow, and water drips onto your head. You can't start a fire; even if you could keep a flame alive, the smoke would give you away. You've seen Wraith crawl and skitter up walls like insects.

It's been raining for days, the same rain, at the same rate of downfall, and at the same temperature. This rain is not a caress. It is not clean or pure, but instead a brackish spray that leeches under your outer wrap, finding the one tear of fabric and pushing inside, a cold trickle that's worked its way down your spine. Moisture lays heavy in your hair, it soaks your clothes, and your jaw aches from clenching against the shivers.

It's been dark for days, too, the thick cloud cover lending a dusky, shadowed feel to the woods, to the wall of rock you've been clinging to, and the rain splashes steadily onto your face and you're tired and it's hard to tell if the wind is what's moving that tree over there, or if it's one of your pursuers reaching back, aiming his knife for your throat.

The gate is guarded. You lost a weapon escaping the last planet. Water drips from your eyelashes. You're not sure that your knees will unbend in time should you have to move quickly.

Your mother was wrong. You hate the rain.



Comments

( 45 comments — Leave a comment )
goddess47
Jun. 7th, 2011 12:28 am (UTC)
Okay, lets see if this works this time!

Nicely done.... the evolution of Ronon's attitude toward the rain is perfect!
trillingstar
Jun. 8th, 2011 07:26 pm (UTC)
I'm so pleased that you liked the progression, thank you!
mab_browne
Jun. 7th, 2011 12:40 am (UTC)
I like the mood here, and that tangential humanising of Kell the traitor.
trillingstar
Jun. 8th, 2011 08:07 pm (UTC)
Kell probably needed all the soldiers he could find - hmmf - but I do like the idea that at some point before the betrayal, he had the capacity to act compassionately. I'm so pleased that the mood worked, here. Thank you!
melagan
Jun. 7th, 2011 01:18 am (UTC)
*hugs Ronon*
trillingstar
Jun. 8th, 2011 09:28 pm (UTC)
I know! *whimper* But... it gets better? That is, it gets better! Honest!
enigmaticblues
Jun. 7th, 2011 01:37 am (UTC)
Oh, Ronon. This was such a gorgeous look at his life. Wonderful work.
trillingstar
Jun. 8th, 2011 10:05 pm (UTC)
I'm so happy to hear that! Thank you very much.
maddie_amber
Jun. 7th, 2011 02:05 am (UTC)
Wow. Beautifully written character study. Perfectly Ronon. His life before Atlantis in 750 words. Excellent descriptions. I could feel every drop.
trillingstar
Jun. 8th, 2011 10:16 pm (UTC)
What wonderful compliments, thank you so much.
mezzo_cammin
Jun. 7th, 2011 03:52 am (UTC)
You know, for the first three paragraphs, I thought this was about Rodney. I love how you did that.

I love how you put so much backstory and world-building into so few words - every word counts, means something, and the last few break my heart, a little. Now, I just want to hug Ronon to my bosom and mother him.

Wonderful storytelling!! ♥
trillingstar
Jun. 8th, 2011 10:40 pm (UTC)
...every word counts, means something...
Oh, thank you! I am absolutely thrilled that you enjoyed this (even with the heart-breaking).

Oh right, I'm so sure! All tucked up against your bosom and you want to mother him. Mmhmm. *eg*
esteefee
Jun. 7th, 2011 06:46 am (UTC)
wow. just amazing imagery. powerful and painful and believably Ronon, and how I ache for him.
trillingstar
Jun. 8th, 2011 11:25 pm (UTC)
Thank you so much for your kind words. I ache for him, too.
hilde
Jun. 7th, 2011 08:14 am (UTC)
Simply brilliant!
trillingstar
Jun. 8th, 2011 11:26 pm (UTC)
*beams at you* Thank you very much!
pride_of_erin
Jun. 7th, 2011 11:24 am (UTC)
Ow, Ronon and his man pain! Beautiful work.
trillingstar
Jun. 9th, 2011 01:24 pm (UTC)
Ow, indeed. Thank you!
mific
Jun. 7th, 2011 01:27 pm (UTC)
Lovely writing, and a fascinating look at Ronon.
trillingstar
Jun. 9th, 2011 01:27 pm (UTC)
I love playing in pre-canon :) Thank you on both counts!
leesa_perrie
Jun. 8th, 2011 10:38 am (UTC)
Powerful, I love how you use the rain in this story to show us Ronon's life - and the way he changes.
trillingstar
Jun. 9th, 2011 02:29 pm (UTC)
Oh, yes! Exactly. Thank you very much.
ozsaur
Jun. 8th, 2011 03:17 pm (UTC)
That was gorgeous! And intense! Loved Ronon as a carefree child, then his grief, and his final evolution. Nicely done!
trillingstar
Jun. 9th, 2011 03:28 pm (UTC)
Oh, yay! I'm so happy that you enjoyed it. Thank you!! *hugs*
black_raven135
Jun. 8th, 2011 08:33 pm (UTC)
It makes me miss Ronon even more........
**sighs**
Thank you!!
trillingstar
Jun. 9th, 2011 03:57 pm (UTC)
Awww, I know! Me too. Happy that you enjoyed this, though! Thank you :)

Also - nifty icon!
black_raven135
Jun. 9th, 2011 04:03 pm (UTC)
Oh thanks so much
It was created by melian_eresseie
:-)
I nabbed it as I really do love Ronon.......
Sheppard, Ronon and Lorne in that order
michelel72
Jun. 8th, 2011 09:54 pm (UTC)
This is lyrical and just heartbreaking.
trillingstar
Jun. 9th, 2011 05:12 pm (UTC)
Thank you very much!
ceitie
Jun. 9th, 2011 02:52 am (UTC)
Oh, Ronon. *wants to give him all the hugs in the world* What a beautifully written story.
trillingstar
Jun. 9th, 2011 05:15 pm (UTC)
You and me both... *sniffle*

Thank you so much!
crysothemis
Jun. 10th, 2011 02:26 am (UTC)
Oh, that is just beautifully heartbreaking.

((((Ronon))))
trillingstar
Jun. 10th, 2011 05:30 am (UTC)
I'm so pleased that this made you want to hug Ronon, 'cause, yeah. Me too.

Thank you!
stella_pegasi
Jun. 11th, 2011 04:37 pm (UTC)
Oh...stories about Ronon as a runner, so alone and so lonely...and losing all of the joy he once had are so heartbreaking. This was lovely....loved your description of how rain rain sounds from one shower to another.

Enjoyed very much.
trillingstar
Jun. 14th, 2011 12:40 am (UTC)
Thank you for mentioning the descriptions! I tried to go whole hog with the prompt, so I'm glad that it worked. I'm thrilled that you enjoyed this, thank you for your comments :)
saphirablue
Jun. 11th, 2011 05:58 pm (UTC)
Wow! This is amazing!

Normally I don't like the secone person POV but here is fits perfectly!

Thank you!
trillingstar
Jun. 14th, 2011 02:26 am (UTC)
Second-person narration isn't my usual cuppa either, so it's wonderful to know that it worked! I'm so pleased that you liked this, thank you very much :)
lilyfarfalla
Jun. 11th, 2011 11:21 pm (UTC)
Oh Ronon! Oh, I love this. The different kinds of rain and the different emotions, and this moment of him alone in the cave. Oh my heart.

And this is so cool, such an interesting, wonderful, kid thing to think!
You remember thinking that maybe your world would tilt and roll over, that maybe you'd go to sleep on the ceiling and eat your meals upside down.
trillingstar
Jun. 14th, 2011 04:17 am (UTC)
*beams*

I like the idea that as a kid, Ronon had a brilliant imagination, but then he was forced to redirect all of his energy toward survival. Thank you for mentioning the different rains and emotions, and your heart? I know, mine too. Thank you for such thoughtful comments.
scarlettandblue
Jun. 12th, 2011 10:36 am (UTC)
I'm listening to the pitter-patter of rain hitting the roof of my conservatory while reading this story, it made me shiver. So beautifully written and the way you are telling Ronon his own story with this POV just somehow added to the intimate feeling of it. And wow, so few words to make something so big and powerful, that is spectacular story telling. thank you!

Edited at 2011-06-12 10:36 am (UTC)
trillingstar
Jun. 14th, 2011 04:20 am (UTC)
Your comments totally made my day. I'm so pleased that the intimacy of the narration worked, and really I'm just delighted that you enjoyed it. Thank you!!
rustler
Jun. 17th, 2011 06:47 pm (UTC)
So evocative, omg I love this, and the end is such a punch. Really gorgeous.
trillingstar
Jun. 21st, 2011 10:38 pm (UTC)
I'm really, truly happy that you loved this. Thank you!! *smishes you*
hoktauri
Aug. 17th, 2011 03:38 pm (UTC)
OMG. What. This was amazing. Moving and insightful and also very sad. This part: you did not cry, not until four moons after your mother's leaving-day, when water misted down so softly against your skin that it felt like the caress of her hand. was especially beautiful. I love Ronon stories, too, so thank you for this!!!
trillingstar
Aug. 18th, 2011 07:05 pm (UTC)
Oh, I liked that line a lot, too. *beams* I'm so pleased that you enjoyed this. Thank you for your wonderful comments!
( 45 comments — Leave a comment )

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