Brianna shouted at her dog to quiet itself as it barked continually. When she didn’t listen Brianna growled in frustration, shoving a broody hen out of her nesting box as she was pecked. Once all of the eggs were in her apron she carried them out of the coop, ignoring the indignant protests of the robbed hens. She unloaded the eggs into the basket she’d once more forgotten to bring into the coop with her then turned to look at the still-barking dog across the glen. She was wagging her tail and dancing back and forth as she barked at something in the river.

Sighing as her leather shoes and the hem of her skirts got wet on the dew of the grass as she started after the barking nuisance, she flicked one of her twin blonde braids over her shoulder. “You stupid old lady!” she shouted at her canine as she mentally double checked her memory of shutting the door to the chicken coop. If she left it open again and they lost more hens she’d be in for another lecture from her father about how as a twelve-year-old her parents should be able to expect more from her than her--

She stopped dead in her tracks as the sound of buzzing flies filled the air when her dog quit barking upon her approach. Her blue eyes widened as she saw what looked to her to be the mutilated corpse of a man, half thrown onto the riverbank. The birds ceased their singing as she screamed at the top of her lungs, making her dog head for the hills.

Ronon awoke several times throughout the course of his fever but all he could recall were the sounds of a household with children, the barking of a dog and muffled voices hovering over him. When his fever finally broke and he could coherently analyze feedback from his senses he slowly registered a light tugging on his hair. There was a sudden yank then a hissing admonishment as two whispering voices began to argue.

“You’re pulling too hard, Bo.”

“Am not. Move over.”

There was another tug.

“Ow! Stop it!”

“Shh – you’re being too loud!”

“Am not – you are.”

He exhaled with an unintentional squeak and the voices and tugging stopped immediately. His head and back were throbbing and he focused on his breathing, attempting to calm the pain. After a few heartbeats the two voices began whisper-yelling again.

“You woke him up!”

“Did not! He’s still sleeping.”

A third, higher pitched voice suddenly broke in with a baby accent. “I wanna see.”

He cracked open his eyes at the little voice and heavy breathing and the chubby face of a toddler slowly came into focus. Her lips were parted as drool coated her chin. Her large eyes and round cheeks were framed by twin blonde pigtails. He blinked and opened his eyes wider, not recognizing the child, and the toddler squealed and disappeared with the patter of little bare feet.

He groaned as her squeal made his head begin throbbing once more and another of the voices spoke again. “Bo – go tell Momma that he’s awake.”

There was a quiet moment as the other child sucked in a breath and he turned his heavy head to the side to see the girls. “Momma!” one hollered. “The man’s awake!”

“I said go tell Momma, Bo, not shout for her!”

“Then you do it!”

He raised his eyebrows at the two bickering blondes each with a matching pair of braids. They froze when they noticed he was watching them. The shorter one stared at him as she whispered, “He’s looking at us, Bri.”

“I know, Bo,” the taller one didn’t look away from him as she answered.

Ronon furrowed his brows, unable to remember any of the three little blondes nor what he was doing with them. He could hear the creaking of floorboards as a woman gathered her skirts and knelt at his side in the low cot, finishing tucking her dirty blonde hair up in a bun. She smiled at him in greeting with relief in her eyes as she looked him up and down. “How do you feel?”

He gazed up at the woman from his position on his side but was unable to place her face. She pressed her hand against his cheeks and forehead as he parted his lips, moving them voicelessly as he struggled to speak.

“It’s alright,” she soothed, feeling his pulse in his neck. “Don’t try to speak yet.” She glanced over her shoulder at her oldest daughter. “Brianna, will you get him a glass of water please?” The girl nodded and dashed off. The shorter girl and the toddler stood off to the side, spying. “We were very worried about you. Your wounds were infected and you had a high fever for days. You’ve been out for almost a week but you’ve been doing so much better today.” She smiled encouragingly. “Do remember any of the other times you’ve woken up here?”

He knew he must have since the room around him seemed vaguely familiar but he lightly shook his head no.

“That’s alright.” She smiled again as she rested her hand on his cheek once more. “You are good now – that’s all that matters. Oh-” She reached out behind her for the glass of water that Brianna had carefully carried over then leaned towards him again and helped him lift his head up to drink. She used her apron to dry the water that accidentally spilled onto his chin as he drank then set the glass aside as he lay his head back down again. “It should be easier to talk now. We’ve all been very curious – what’s your name?”

He swallowed once and cleared his throat a little. “Ronon.”

She smiled again and the kindness in her eyes was so infectious that his lips curled a little in a return smile.

“That’s a lovely name,” she said. “I’m Lilliana and these are my girls Brianna, Isabeau and Sanura.” She pointed the blondes out, tallest to shortest. “They’re twelve, eight and two-and-a-half. They’ve been helping my husband and I watch over you.” She cocked her head at him, furrowing her brow. “Do you remember what happened? Brianna found you washed up on the riverbank, half-dead.”

He closed his eyes as he exhaled slowly, sifting through his mind for any memories of rivers, yet for some reason all he could think of was the river he used to swim in as a boy. Other than that he couldn’t remember any rivers... maybe Teyla would know what she was asking about... He opened his eyes, glancing around at what he could see of the room then remembered how Teyla had always lain beside him and he tried to look behind him.

Lilliana stilled him with a hand on his shoulder. “It’s alright. You’re safe.”

His voice had a hoarse creak to it from disuse. “Teyla?”

Lilliana furrowed her brow as his eyes locked onto hers questioningly. “What?”

“Where’s Teyla?”

The line between Lilliana’s brows deepened as she shook her head slightly. “I’m sorry – I don’t know who that is.”

His eyes searched hers for a moment as he struggled to cite his last memory of Teyla yet his tired mind was failing him. He had no knowledge of how he had gone from Teyla’s arms to the home of these strangers and that scared him.

Lilliana could see the struggle in his eyes and her face softened as she rocked back on her heels, resting her hand on his cheek once more. “You should rest,” she said as she ran her thumb along his cheekbone. “You still have much healing to do.”

He sighed, letting his weight sink against the pillow.

She motioned for her girls to step back as she tugged on a curtain she’d hung around Ronon’s cot. She pulled the fabric to her then looked to Ronon again with a small smile. “I will wake you again when supper is ready.” She stepped back and tugged the curtain shut.

Ronon let his eyes shut and whimpered quietly as a wave of pain shuddered through him. He fell back asleep as he tried to remember how he and Teyla had been parted.

Branded Heart

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