Beatae Memoriae by Sazz (T)
Dec. 8th, 2007 03:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sholio posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
stargateficrecRec Category: John Sheppard
Pairing: none
Category: Atlantis, hurt/comfort, original character, novel, gen
Warning: none
Author on LJ: n/a
Author's Website: Stories by Sazz
Link: Beatae Memoriae on ff.net or on one page at Sazz's site.
(Note: Sazz's site is on Geocities, which is very limited on bandwidth -- it was working fine when I checked the links, but is down now, probably due to hits from this comm. The fic is still available on ff.net and the Geocities "downage" tends to last about an hour at a time, if I remember right from my old *shudder* Geocities days.)
Why This Must Be Read: This is a long, rich, well-plotted story with a very well-developed cast of OCs (plus the full Atlantis cast later on). An old woman, Tosia, finds a mysterious stranger near her village -- he's traumatized, injured, suffering from amnesia and unable to speak, with no sign of where he came from or how he got there. Just as there is much more to Tosia's dark-haired, green-eyed stranger than meets the eye, there is quite a lot more to Tosia and her village than is apparent at first glance, too.
Well-written, novel-length gen stories are always a delight to find, and this one is a rewarding and emotionally satisfying read that has some really wonderful scenes with John and the people who care about him.
Lasca prepared rags and poured water into a bucket, and together, she and Tosia began cleaning the blood and grime from the stranger’s face and washed as much of the dirt as they could from his thick, surprisingly soft hair. Tosia pondered over the layers of clothing he wore, but they had at least protected him somewhat from the elements.
Setting her speculations aside for the time being, Tosia helped Lasca carefully remove the strange articles, pulling him to a near sitting position and fumbling with the unfamiliar fastenings. They first removed his vest and jacket to find that the sand had even crept beneath the long-sleeved black shirt he wore underneath, and so they removed that, as well.
When they eased him back down, Tosia noticed the holster strapped to his thigh. Ignoring the twinge in her fingers, she unbuckled the strap before Lasca could and grasped the handle of the device it harnessed. Sliding it out a few inches, she immediately recognized what it was. She had not seen a weapon of this kind in decades, but the cold, hard metal of the gun in her hand sent a chill up her spine.
How the gun had even come through with the stranger was another mystery. Tosia hadn’t thought it possible that such a dangerous and primitive tool would even be allowed in this place of exile. She wondered if her speculations were misplaced, but how else would he have come to be here? And this place had no means for creating weapons of such kind…
"What is that?" Lasca asked, looking at the gun in the old woman’s hands with curious puzzlement.
"Nothing to be concerned with," Tosia said with a dismissive shrug and kept her expression carefully neutral. She tucked the harness and the gun in the folds of the vest and jacket she had placed beside her. Once Lasca and Antal were asleep, she would dispose of the weapon. She found it surprising that it did not cause her to fear or mistrust the man. Instead, it only heightened her curiosity of his origins. She decided that she would look through the pockets of his vest and jacket later, as well. Perhaps they would give her some clues.
Throughout their ministrations, the stranger did not waken, nor did he stir at the indignity of being stripped of the rest of his clothing and dressed in a too-large nightshirt of Antal’s. The women could determine no visible injuries, though the blood that had spilled from the man’s nose and ears suggested a fearful wound much too deep to be treated.
Lasca wiped the last traces of blood from his oddly and slightly pointed ears, and in a soft voice, as though she were afraid of disturbing him, she said, "He is very handsome, do you not think?"
Tosia was not surprised by the query. Though Lasca, whom the old woman had always considered a daughter, was far beyond the age of girlish crushes, she’d always held a fondness for pretty things, and such things were uncommon in this desolate place.
Pairing: none
Category: Atlantis, hurt/comfort, original character, novel, gen
Warning: none
Author on LJ: n/a
Author's Website: Stories by Sazz
Link: Beatae Memoriae on ff.net or on one page at Sazz's site.
(Note: Sazz's site is on Geocities, which is very limited on bandwidth -- it was working fine when I checked the links, but is down now, probably due to hits from this comm. The fic is still available on ff.net and the Geocities "downage" tends to last about an hour at a time, if I remember right from my old *shudder* Geocities days.)
Why This Must Be Read: This is a long, rich, well-plotted story with a very well-developed cast of OCs (plus the full Atlantis cast later on). An old woman, Tosia, finds a mysterious stranger near her village -- he's traumatized, injured, suffering from amnesia and unable to speak, with no sign of where he came from or how he got there. Just as there is much more to Tosia's dark-haired, green-eyed stranger than meets the eye, there is quite a lot more to Tosia and her village than is apparent at first glance, too.
Well-written, novel-length gen stories are always a delight to find, and this one is a rewarding and emotionally satisfying read that has some really wonderful scenes with John and the people who care about him.
Lasca prepared rags and poured water into a bucket, and together, she and Tosia began cleaning the blood and grime from the stranger’s face and washed as much of the dirt as they could from his thick, surprisingly soft hair. Tosia pondered over the layers of clothing he wore, but they had at least protected him somewhat from the elements.
Setting her speculations aside for the time being, Tosia helped Lasca carefully remove the strange articles, pulling him to a near sitting position and fumbling with the unfamiliar fastenings. They first removed his vest and jacket to find that the sand had even crept beneath the long-sleeved black shirt he wore underneath, and so they removed that, as well.
When they eased him back down, Tosia noticed the holster strapped to his thigh. Ignoring the twinge in her fingers, she unbuckled the strap before Lasca could and grasped the handle of the device it harnessed. Sliding it out a few inches, she immediately recognized what it was. She had not seen a weapon of this kind in decades, but the cold, hard metal of the gun in her hand sent a chill up her spine.
How the gun had even come through with the stranger was another mystery. Tosia hadn’t thought it possible that such a dangerous and primitive tool would even be allowed in this place of exile. She wondered if her speculations were misplaced, but how else would he have come to be here? And this place had no means for creating weapons of such kind…
"What is that?" Lasca asked, looking at the gun in the old woman’s hands with curious puzzlement.
"Nothing to be concerned with," Tosia said with a dismissive shrug and kept her expression carefully neutral. She tucked the harness and the gun in the folds of the vest and jacket she had placed beside her. Once Lasca and Antal were asleep, she would dispose of the weapon. She found it surprising that it did not cause her to fear or mistrust the man. Instead, it only heightened her curiosity of his origins. She decided that she would look through the pockets of his vest and jacket later, as well. Perhaps they would give her some clues.
Throughout their ministrations, the stranger did not waken, nor did he stir at the indignity of being stripped of the rest of his clothing and dressed in a too-large nightshirt of Antal’s. The women could determine no visible injuries, though the blood that had spilled from the man’s nose and ears suggested a fearful wound much too deep to be treated.
Lasca wiped the last traces of blood from his oddly and slightly pointed ears, and in a soft voice, as though she were afraid of disturbing him, she said, "He is very handsome, do you not think?"
Tosia was not surprised by the query. Though Lasca, whom the old woman had always considered a daughter, was far beyond the age of girlish crushes, she’d always held a fondness for pretty things, and such things were uncommon in this desolate place.
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no subject
Date: 2007-12-09 02:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-09 02:14 am (UTC)I agree with you about having fics on one page -- it's by far my preferred way to read them. Unfortunately, a lot of the free site hosts are very bandwidth-limited.
ETA: And now it's back! For now! Ah, Geocities, I remember you well, but not with much fondness.