Summary: A lot of things can happen when you run for so long.
Author Notes: Huge thanks to not_sally.
They don't follow him at the beginning, of course. They can see
anything, but not everything at the same time. When he starts killing
Wraith, though, he starts becoming interesting, and every escape he
makes under impossible constraints makes him more so. Not to all of
them, or even to many, but to enough that they are reminded of their
most important vow: They cannot meddle.
That's true, they can't. But when he is finally hurt badly enough that
he won't outrun death (finally killed by a Wraith that now lies, split
in two, next to him), it's not meddling to help him ascend. It's only fair.
Ten minutes later, a light shines in the forest patch covered with
Wraith corpses, and a naked man wakes up, unhurt and alert. He doesn't
know what has happened, but he is armed and far away before he lets
himself worry about that.
* * *
The wormhole opens into a hall; it's the cleanest, brightest, most
beautiful building Ronon has ever seen. Instinctively, without doubt or
hesitation, he knows that this is a place the Wraith have never touched.
It's a place they must never touch.
He steps back at once, leaving the underwater city before the wormhole
* * *
He used to be a teacher. This is the same.
"Fire early and often," he teaches them. "Wraiths are used to walk
slowly and proudly - this gives you time to kill many, if you don't
bother to wait until they are close."
The only difference is that this time all pupils pay attention to him.
"Wraiths see us as cattle. Think like hunters and you will surprise them."
The questions are also smarter, more focused. Approaching death does
that to you - and he has lived with death at his side for so long, now...
"Sir, I don't think we can win this battle."
"Hurt them badly enough, and the rest of the tribe will have time to
hide while they hunt you down."
Everybody nods. It's a reasonable deal.
When the Wraith comes, enough Wraith are killed that almost everybody in
Ronon's force is slaughtered, but that takes so much time that everybody
else gets to escape.
Ronon almost smiles as he steps through the gate. Good pupils always
made him proud.
He'll honor their spirits.
* * *
He didn't ask her name, and she didn't ask his. He was running, she was
trading, they were both short of time and long on life. They trusted
nobody, so they knew they could trust each other. At least enough.
At least for the night.
He might have said something the next time he saw her, but she had
strange clothes and was walking with a strange soldier, and the Wraith
had taken trust from him as they had taken everything else.
She didn't hold it against him. Neither then in the cave, nor later in
Atlantis, in his arms.