Janet tipped her head up, eyes closed, the warmth of the early morning sun on her face contrasting with the cool breeze that played with her hair. She was locked to the balcony railing by the gold handcuffs Sam had brought three nights before, but they were light enough that if she kept her eyes closed and concentrated on the feel of the sun and the breeze, she could almost pretend they didn't exist. Thinking of Sam, she didn't know whether to be grateful or disappointed that she'd barely seen the other woman since the scene on the balcony. She left before Janet woke in the morning and returned well after she'd gone to bed at night. The peace and quiet gave her a chance to let go of her problems for a little, but at the same time, it did nothing to gain either of them their freedom. Freedom, now there was an alien thought, she realized as a tiny frisson of unease slid down her spine. She'd been a captive long enough that a weird sort of normalcy threatened to settle in and that scared her almost as much as anything else she'd faced because it threatened to sap her will to get home.

She ran a hand over her hair, then massaged the back of her neck to distract herself from that thought. She did that a lot -- distracting herself from her own thoughts when they threatened to bring the world crashing in. According to her best guess, they'd been missing from the SGC for close to a month, long enough that their colleagues might well have given up any hope of finding them. And Cass -- her adopted daughter was probably in hell worrying about them both, praying for a miracle and terrified they were dead. She'd already lost so much. The utter cruelty of her having to go through this was just too wrenching to contemplate. Unfortunately, there was nothing Janet could do for Cass except pray that their friends at the SGC were looking after her, and making sure she was okay. She shook her head, feeling about as useless as it was humanly possible to feel. Couldn't help Sam, couldn't help Cass, couldn't even help herself.

She opened her eyes, staring out at the city in an effort to commit what she could see of the layout to memory. As distractions went, it was far from perfect, but it was better than sitting and contemplating her own ineffectiveness.

The soft pad of footsteps yanked her out of her own grim thoughts, and she glanced back to offer a grateful smile to the young woman who stepped onto the balcony, a tray of food in hand. Elyana's kindness had given her space to heal, and was possibly the only thing that had kept her from going insane. For reasons she didn't even pretend to understand, the young maid had been nothing but thoughtful and kind from those first moments.

"It's time for you to eat again," Elyana said softly and flashed Janet a sweet smile. She carefully set the tray down, then straightened. "I brought some of the purja that you liked so much yesterday."

She took her responsibility for fattening Janet back up very seriously ... and had been doing a pretty remarkable job of it the doctor had to admit. Janet hadn't been on short rations long enough to do serious damage, but she'd still been weak as a kitten after her rescue from the dungeons. Under the young woman's care, she was quickly regaining the lost weight along with her strength and stamina. She eyed the food a little askance. The constant eating, however, was getting on the tiresome side. "I'm really not very hungry right now," she sighed. "But you go ahead." Sam had ordered that she get unlimited food and she'd come to realize that the two servants were eating any leftovers. From what little she'd been able to glean about the situation, it probably represented a considerable increase in quality and volume over what they were used to. The servants who'd made deliveries or who she'd glimpsed from the balcony had mostly been a little underweight, not dangerously so, but enough to indicate a society at the edge.

Elyana offered a small, queasy smile. "Thank you, milady," she always referred to Janet by the title despite the doctor's discomfort with the practice, "but I'm not really hungry." She swallowed hard, her complexion taking on a greenish cast. "Besides, you're the one who needs to gain weight ... not me." Not entirely true. Though the younger woman had gained weight since caring for Janet, her overall build was still extremely delicate.

The doctor turned, hitching her hip against the railing, her head tipping to one side as she considered the maid, noting and assessing details others would have missed. She frowned, putting what she saw together with a dozen other, disparate facts that she'd noticed, but hadn't really considered carefully. "When are you due?" she asked at last. Considering the young woman's obvious adoration of her husband, Janet expected a happy reply, and was caught by surprise when Elyana lost all color, her eyes suddenly huge saucers in her face.

"What are you talking about?"

Thinking the young woman just hadn't understood, Janet quickly clarified. "The baby ... when's it due?"

Any remaining trace of color drained from Elyana's face. "How did you..." she stammered, not finishing the question before moving on to the next. "Does anyone else...." She didn't finish that one either. "You can't have told anyone ... please tell me no one else knows...."

Janet shook her head, confused by the response. "No," she denied instantly. "I only just put it together myself," she added, hoping to soothe away the fear.

"You can't tell anyone," Elyana whispered intently, then glanced nervously over her shoulder as though she expected someone to be eavesdropping.

Rubio had gone inside for a moment and the young woman's uneasiness left Janet with a worrisome suspicion. "Does Rubio know about the baby?" she asked, concern etched across her brow. Rubio and Elyana had both been kind to her. She hated the idea that there might be a problem.

Blue eyes widened. "Of course he knows," Elyana said instantly.

Scratch that suspicion. "Then what's wrong?" Janet asked. "Because it's obvious something is?"

Elyana's expression seemed to crumple. "Rubio doesn't want anyone to know," she exhaled. "And if you knew, then--"

"It's unlikely anyone else would notice," Janet quickly assured her. "I told you, I'm a doctor," she added, hoping to chase away the terror in the girl's eyes. "The things I noticed are very subtle, and even I wouldn't have guessed if I hadn't spent so much time around you." She reached out, resting a gentle hand on the Elyana's forearm. "It's okay."

Elyana exhaled a heavy sigh, some of the tension leaving her shoulders, though fear continued to lurk in her eyes. "It's just ... if Sire Ezri found out...." She trailed off and stood shaking her head back and forth.

"What?" the doctor asked gently. "What are you so scared of?" She'd become genuinely fond of the young woman and hated the idea that something that should have been joyful should bring so much terror into her eyes.

Elyana's chin rose and she peered at Janet for a long moment as if assessing whether or not to trust her. Finally, she spoke quietly, "Sire Ezri allowed Rubio and I to marry, but Rubio hasn't finished paying off my sale. If Ezri finds out I'm going to have a baby, he'll void the sale ... and force me back to his lands...."

"Sale?" Janet repeated, not understanding at all. "You're saying Rubio bought you?" she exhaled after a beat.

"Not yet ... according to the law the deal isn't finalized until he finishes paying the agreed price ... and he can't do that until the queen pays him as she agreed to ... a bonus," the young woman added, looking faintly embarrassed, "for caring for you."

Which explained at least some of their attentiveness. Janet stifled a tiny pinprick of hurt with a practical reminder that, despite any kindness, common sense should have told her they weren't really on her side. "But ... you ... you're married," she whispered at least, still struggling to get her brain around the concept.

The young woman nodded. "But Sire Ezri could void the marriage until the price is paid in full ... and if he learns I'm carrying a child ... then he'd demand the price for two slaves ... or that both the child and I be returned ... to sell to someone else ... or at least me. With so few children born each year, he might keep the child to work the fields ... or ... or if it's a girl...." Her voice creaked, forcing her to pause for a second to regain control. "She'd probably wind up like I did."

"You're a slave," Janet breathed as the truth sank in, the impact leaving her unable to think for a long moment. "That bastard," she hissed at last.

Elyana neither argued nor confirmed the soft curse. She swallowed hard, a blush crawling over her cheekbones. "His wife discovered he was keeping me and ordered me sold. Since his title and monies come from her family, he would have put me up on the common block, but Rubio was one of his guards ... and offered to pay half again fair market value." She looked down, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment. "He-he was always kind to me."

"Rubio loves you," Janet said softly, sick to her stomach at what she was hearing. "Don't doubt that."

Blue eyes fell away, focusing intently on the tile floor. "It may be Ezri's child ... h-he made demands -- not since the queen demanded my services, but before -- he said he had a right until the debts were paid," she looked up again, her expression a little desperate, "but Rubio doesn't care. He says he'll love it as his own no matter what."

"Of course he will," Janet soothed as she pushed down the swell of rage, afraid the girl would read it as disgust with her. She reached out, curving a gentle hand to a narrow shoulder, uncertain what to say. The poor kid wasn't much older than Cass, and the notion that anyone would treat her that way brought out every protective instinct the doctor had. "You said Sa-- Queen Terreis," Janet quickly corrected herself, "agreed to pay a bonus for my care?"

Elyana nodded. "Rubio had been taking all of the spare shifts he could ... but at that rate, it would have taken close to a year to pay the price. With the reward the queen offered, he could pay Ezri and still have a little left over."

"Does she know about this?" She couldn't believe that Sam -- any incarnation of Sam -- would withhold the money if she had any idea of the situation. She had the softest heart of anyone Janet had ever known, and she couldn't imagine anything changing that basic a personality trait.

Elyana shook her head. "I wanted to tell her, but Rubio says no. He's afraid she'll tell Sire Ezri since, legally, he's in the right."

Janet shook her head slowly, not knowing what to say. "I'm sorry," she murmured at last even though she knew the words were totally inadequate. It was all she had to offer. "God, I wish I knew how to help." She ran a hand over her hair, thinking that the price of the girl's freedom was probably little more than a few things from her jewelry box back home. "Unfortunately, I'm the most powerless person on this planet."

Her brow drawing together in a thoughtful frown, Elyana peered at Janet for a long moment, then shook her head. "You're wrong," she said very softly. "I've seen how she looks at you. You have power. You just haven't accepted it yet...."

That pulled Janet up short, and she stared at the young woman for a long moment, shuffling the meaning behind her words into some semblance of coherency. "You don't know what you're talking about," she said at last.

"Yes, I do," Elyana disagreed with a surprising degree of confidence. "I saw her panic when you fell--"

"When I was pushed," Janet over-rode the younger woman's voice, teeth gritted as she struggled to remind herself of that moment and not the one that had come later, when Sam had been so scared ... and then so very gentle. She had to be careful and remember that the other woman wasn't herself right now. There was a part of her that was unchanged -- Janet had seen glimpses of her basic kindness and decency -- but she was also angry, resentful, and suspicious, the erratic mix of emotions making any attempt at manipulation a perilous proposition at best.

Pain flickered in Elyana's eyes. "She didn't mean to," she reminded Janet defensively. "And she regretted her mistake."

A dark eyebrow twitched upward as Janet resisted a sharp retort by reminding herself that the girl didn't truly understand the situation. She and Rubio had come to the palace since Sam had been placed in power and seemed to have no idea that anything was amiss. In fact, from what the doctor had been able to glean, most of the palace servants were new to the job. Probably to cover up the way an outsider had been installed as queen. "Regret doesn't change what happened," she said very softly.

Something impatient and a little annoyed flickered in the younger woman's eyes. "Sire Ezri never once regretted anything," she whispered bitterly. Elyana was so reliably cheerful and gentle that Janet had taken to thinking of her as more of a child ... an innocent among hardened and manipulative adults. For the first time, it occurred to her that she was underestimating the young woman. In that moment, her eyes were diamond hard and far older than her years. "Not one thing," the young servant said tersely, her lip curling with subtle hate. "Even if he knew for certain that this child was his, he'd never care for it ... it would just be a slave ... to be worked to death, used, or sold to line his pockets."

Janet stood frozen for a long moment, her mouth hanging open, at a complete loss to know what to say. "I'm sorry," she whispered at last, once against feeling totally inadequate for the task. There weren't words and any attempt to pretend there were just seemed insulting somehow.

"She isn't like him ... or the others," Elyana said softly, her voice intense, "and you're a fool if you think she is."

Janet couldn't argue that. "No, she's not," she agreed quietly. Even at her worst, Sam wasn't -- couldn't be -- that. "But...." Practically speaking, she couldn't explain her relationship with Sam to anyone else, hell she could barely explain the animosity between them to herself. No matter what she knew intellectually, there was still an incredible level of emotional confusion that bordered on denial. It made for a helluva mess all the way around.  Seeing Sam as her enemy was nearly impossible after everything they'd been through and she had to remind herself constantly that she couldn't afford to trust her. "It's not the same," she whispered at last.

"No ... it isn't," Elyana agreed after a beat, "that's why you have power where I didn't ... because she actually has a heart, and would care for anyone -- even an enemy -- she took to her bed."

Janet started to argue with the suggestion, only to come up short as she stared at the look in the younger woman's eyes. This wasn't a theoretical discussion she abruptly realized. "You want something from me," she said at last.

Elyana paused, then answered obliquely. "I promised Rubio I wouldn't tell her about our situation...."

It took Janet a moment to put it together, and when she did, she shook her head emphatically. "Believe me, I'm the last person you want speaking on your behalf."

"But you haven't promised ... and you could ask her about the reward she promised ... ask her to pay him. Haven't we taken good care of you--"

"Yes, but, Elyana," Janet said, shaking her head in denial, "she hates me--"

"No," the young woman insisted, her eyes shining with desperation, "she doesn't. She cares ... even if she doesn't want to ... and she might listen--"

"Elyana--"

"Please," the maid begged, grabbing Janet's hand, "I'll be showing soon ... and if Ezri finds out, we'll lose everything."

Janet ran a hand over her hair, a small, frustrated sigh escaping her lips. How the hell was she supposed to refuse? Elyana was the closest thing she had to a friend in the place, even if she was paid for the service. "I really don't think this is a good idea," she said helplessly.

The younger woman's grip tightened, a physical expression of her growing desperation. "Please," she begged.

Janet stared at the girl for a long moment in an effort to summon the strength to refuse. She couldn't do it. "I'll try," she said at last. She shook her head, her expression hopeless. "But don't count on any miracles." Nothing was that simple when it came to her relationship with the woman Elyana thought of as her queen. She feared she was all too likely to make the situation worse rather than better.

"She'll listen to you," Elyana insisted. "She has to."

Janet didn't bother to argue, though she didn't see any hope of that actually happening, and just stood shaking her head bemusedly.

"Please don't tell Rubio," Elyana added and Janet nodded in agreement even as she wondered what the hell she was letting herself in for.

And then Rubio returned, ending any further conversation ... at least on that topic.

Hands braced on the railing, Janet leaned forward, tipping her head back and staring skyward. Deep grey thunderheads were boiling overhead, the air alive with the faint tang of ions. "You think it'll rain?" she asked Elyana as she tipped her head back down, noting the way the top branches of the few scruffy trees in sight whipped under a growing wind.

It was Rubio who looked up, squinting as he assessed the clouds. "Probably not today," he murmured, "but soon. It's time for the rainy season to start and the clouds have been gathering for a couple of days." He shook his head. "But we've hardly had any rain in years ... so there probably won't be much."

"An extended drought," Janet said very softly. "That makes sense," she mused out loud. A lengthy period of drought might explain the slow motion systems failure they'd seen in the villages.

"According to my father, when he was a boy, the rains would last for hours ... come every day for weeks ... until the land blossomed with life."

She looked over at the young man. "But not in your memory?"

He shook his head. "My father was a boy then." He sighed heavily. "Before everything went wrong ... actually, the rains have been better the last couple of years. If our queen can actually get the pumps working, there's water in the cisterns for nearby farms."

Janet frowned as she considered that information. "She's really been working on that, hasn't she?"

He nodded. "When we came here, I didn't expect much. The royals never seemed to care. Just left the districts to the ministers, who..." he didn't finish, apparently thinking better of being that honest. He looked at Janet. "She's not what I expected," he reiterated. "She's a good woman."

Janet nodded. She couldn't argue that. Given power, Sam had remained true to form and spent her time trying to make the society she found herself in a better place. Which might explain why she'd been taken and brainwashed. The locals must have noticed her efforts to repair their infrastructure. Had they decided to take that genius for themselves? But how could a culture that was so far behind them technologically have come up with such a successful means of brainwashing? And if they simply wanted Sam for her ability to get their infrastructure online, why the lies about an attacking army? None of it made any sense.

"The other night," Rubio began cautiously when Janet didn't speak, "she was just ... mistaken. I don't think she meant for that to happen ... to frighten you so badly ... or risk hurting you."

"No," Janet allowed, remembering her friend's instant efforts to undo the damage wrought by her panicked shove. She glanced over her shoulder at Elyana, who was suddenly uncharacteristically quiet, "but she seems to lack ... control ... where I'm concerned." Which was ironic, considering just how controlled she and Sam had both been for so many years.

He peered at her, his expression worried. "You should just tell her what she wants to know," he said, his caring surprisingly genuine. "I can understand why you're loyal to your own people, but you've seen how fair she'll be ... if she can make peace, she will. She's not looking for a slaughter ... not like some would. Just tell her the truth."

A grim laugh escaped the doctor's lips. "Unfortunately, I can't." She turned to stare out at the city again. "I'm less certain of the truth than anyone," she admitted before she could think better of it, then flinched, not liking that thought at all. She'd tried to resist any doubts about her own sanity, but the harsh reality was that it was a steady fight not to start to wondering about her mental facilities.

He didn't say anything, just sighed softly and stared at the coming storm.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

"Make sure the barrels are properly tempered this time," Terreis instructed Lemier as he took the plans and written instructions she had for him in the wake of the technical failure of the most recent prototype weapon.

He nodded in acknowledgment. "Of course, My Queen. I'm sorry for my mistake."

She waved it aside, not bothering to waste time by raking him over the coals for his error. An improperly tempered gun barrel on the prototype had exploded that morning, shattering the first time it was fired. It was a mistake they couldn't afford to repeat when their army needed weapons. "Just make sure it doesn't happen again. We've already had too many delays."

"Again, my apologies," the scientist said quickly.

"Go on," she said by way of dismissal, returning her attention to the plans laid out before her -- a design for a nonlethal net that could be fired from a rifle-like, projectile weapon. She'd hoped to be able to start the machinists on a prototype sooner than was going to be possible now. A soft cursed escaped her lips as she found herself wondering if Valchon had somehow manufactured the delay in hopes of using the time to talk her out of building any nonlethal options. He wanted only the most deadly weapons possible for the time and resources spent, and considered anything else a waste. So far, they'd agreed to disagree, but she suspected her senior minister was becoming more and more capable of going behind her back to manipulate matters as he saw fit.

She outlined the design with the tip of her finger as she found herself wondering if she could still trust Valchon. Since the death of his sons, he'd become increasingly secretive, and had even countermanded her orders on several occasions, redirecting weapons and troops without informing her. He appeared to want nothing more than revenge with no thought to making peace or rebuilding their world.

And she didn't even want to think about his thwarted attack on the outlander woman. Every time she started contemplating that particular event, she found herself wanting to wrap her hands around his throat. She tried to tell herself she only cared because of the information that would have been lost, but even as the thought ran through her mind, she knew it was a lie. It was the woman she cared for, not just the knowledge she might possess.

She rubbed her thumb over the plans, noting the graphite that stained her skin, worried that her desire to capture rather than kill her enemy was affected entirely too much by her conflicted emotions where the woman was concerned. She closed her eyes as soft features and doe eyes appeared, unbidden, in her mind's eye. She remembered the taste and feel of velvety lips and the press of warm curves, then felt the familiar flare of desire, the embers surging back to life with startling speed. God, was the woman a succubus sent to steal her soul?

Or perhaps her other half, she wondered as Lemier's suggestions came back to haunt her. The mere idea seemed ridiculous on the face of it, and yet, plagued by an obsession she couldn't even begin to understand, she couldn't entirely dismiss the notion ... especially not when something about it felt ... right.

She reached up, pulling her coronet loose -- the metal tines that kept it in place uncomfortable against her scalp -- and ruffled her hair. Peering at it, she found herself wondering why. It had never bothered her before, yet, of late, it had seemed a constant source of discomfort. She ran her thumb along each of the tines, trying to see if there were any metal snags that might be recent, but it felt like it always had. A grim smile touched her lips as it occurred to her that there was something symbolic about her mark of office becoming uncomfortable as she found herself burning with fever for the one person in the world she should never desire. Perhaps her ancestors were trying to send a message.

No, that made even less sense than the idea that the outlander held the other half of her soul. Her ancestors had burned for plenty of their captives ... they'd stripped them, bedded them, a few had even wedded them. They would be in no position to find fault with her desires. In fact, they'd probably be the first ones to start a cheering section egging her on.

Which was no comfort if she considered it too closely, because the cruelty they had used more often than not in those encounters wasn't something she aspired to in her life. She wanted something else entirely ... gentleness ... caring.... She wanted--

Too many impossible things to contemplate, she thought with a sigh. None of which she could do anything about for the moment ... or maybe she could. Another soft sigh escaped full lips as she stared at the coronet, reminded of the power it offered. Perhaps she would be better off just making the decision for both of them ... take the woman to her bed and say to hell with the rules. She ran her thumb along one of the delicate tines, remembering the kiss on the balcony, and the way the woman had eventually surrendered to the moment, her mouth warming and softening, lips parting to accept the invasion of Terreis' tongue. She had felt and tasted the beginnings of arousal in Janet Fraiser. If she used a gentle but firm hand, she could take the outlander, and make her her own.

She ran her thumb along another tine, then deliberately pressed the point into the tip ever so slightly, the flicker of pain oddly helpful for clearing her head. No matter her desires or fantasies, as long as there was any chance the woman was the monster she feared she might be, it was a risk she couldn't take. A decision made -- at least for the moment -- she shook off the momentary musings, and tossed the coronet aside to return to her work.

The ability to concentrate on something so technical was a comfort, allowing her to bury herself in something other than her own problems until she lost all track of time.

It wasn't until she heard the sound of boots on tile that she realized several hours had passed while she was engrossed in her designs. She carefully schooled her expression into one of disinterest when she looked up and realized her senior minister was standing in the doorway, staring at her with a look of disapproval that she was fast learning to dislike ... and distrust. "Valchon," she said with a faint nod.

He offered a cool smile, eyes flicking down to touch on the paper she was working on, then rising to meet her gaze again. "More designs," he murmured by way of question and she nodded. "According to Lemier, you're going ahead with plans to build nonlethal weapons."

She shrugged. "I want choices in our arsenal--"

"Heavy artillery would increase our choices," he snapped impatiently.

She waved that topic aside. "Impossible for the moment. We just don't have the resources to make it practical. Maybe in a few weeks--"

He drew himself straighter. "If you weren't so concerned with methods for taking prisoners, that might not be the case," he pointed out, the note of accusation nowhere near as subtle as she suspected he meant for it to be ... nor as effective.

"My concerns don't change our lack of raw iron or smelting capabilities ... nor do they allow for the heavy casting that would be necessary." Her gaze sharpened even as her voice chilled. "I can't produce arms out of thin air," she bit out, "it takes men, supplies, energy. We're rebuilding, but it's a process, not an event."

He leaned back fractionally, his expression more assessing than the startled she suspected he wanted it to appear. "Of course, Highness. I meant no disrespect," he murmured, his tone conciliatory. "It's simply the stress of reading the reports. It has us all on edge."

She nodded, but didn't speak, in no particularly hurry to open herself up to him.

"In any event, that's not why I wanted to speak to you," he began again, his tone sliding into subtle shadings of obsequiousness that set her teeth on edge.

"Very well. What is it?"

"I was recently made aware that you've banished Maya to the kitchens--"

"To the kitchen servants' quarters to sleep," she corrected him, her tone making it clear she wouldn't appreciate any efforts to intrude on her personal affairs. Nor did she like the inference that she'd set her mistress to hard labor.  "Not to the kitchens to work."

He seemed genuinely taken aback by her tone for the first time. "Of course," a momentary pause followed before he continued, "however, in either event, are you sure it's wise to upset the normal patterns of the palace at a time like this?"

Her brows drew into a frown. "I doubt my personal affairs matter much either way," she said in an effort to dismiss the issue.

"You are queen," he said smoothly, "all of your actions matter ... and now is not the time to allow your subjects to see any turmoil in your private life."

Clamping down on the temptation to tell him where to go, complete with directions, Terreis waved the issue aside. "My affairs," she said pointedly, "are my own ... and none of yours."

"Of course, My Queen," he said with an obsequious duck of his head. "I simply hate to see you unhappy ... and the girl has been a loyal ... servant ... to you ... and hardly deserves the mockery of the kitchen help because you've had a minor disagreement."

"Our disagreements are none of your business," Terreis said carefully. "I felt it best that we have some time apart before making any decisions." He appeared to lose some color in response, though she couldn't help but wonder why he would care. "However, since you seem so invested in the situation," disapproval echoed in her voice, "I assure you, there were reasons for my decision ... and your concerns change none of them."

A muscle twitched in his cheek, but he nodded. "Of course, My Queen. As I said, I didn't mean to offend and simply wished to bring a very real concern to your attention." One eyebrow rose suggestively. "I know how you hate to have the servants gossiping about your private life."

A hint of a frown touched her brow as she found herself wondering if he had any idea how many different explanations he'd already given for his attempted interference ... and what his real reason for caring who shared her bed might be. "They do that no matter what," she murmured, well aware that speculating about her personal life was one of the major entertainments in the castle.

"Perhaps," he allowed, then added suggestively, "but with the outlander staying in your apartments...."

One eyebrow shot up. So that was it. She eyed him in an effort to assess his intentions, but his expression remained cool and unreadable as though he hadn't recently tried to murder the woman. "For her safety," she said by way of cold reminder.

He was smart enough to let that subject lie. "Of course ... but if Maya were there, it might end some of the speculation."

Terreis laughed very softly, and a little bitterly. "Somehow I doubt that." Her lips twisted in a wry smirk. "In fact, I suspect that scenario would only generate even more tales." Her look was enough to silence any arguments he might have offered. "Which is why I really can't arrange my personal life according to the gossips' wishes ... since they'll come up with something to chatter about no matter what I do." She arched an elegant eyebrow, silently daring him to challenge her refusal to fall into line with his wishes. "Is there anything else I can do for you, Minister?" She purposely tapped the plans in front of her. "If not, I really need to finish what I'm doing here, then check with the crewchief running the repairs on generator four."

"Speaking of which," Valchon began, apparently accepting that he wasn't going to change her mind about Maya or the outlander, "I understand from Lemier that you're insisting that the crewchiefs be trained in the complete workings of the machinery, rather than simply being advised of the immediate tasks assigned to their crews."

She nodded. "Of course. It should have been done years ago." The way things were set up now, workers and their immediate supervisors had only the most rudimentary knowledge about the systems they were tasked with repairing, which meant they had to have guidance if the situation deviated even slightly from their written instructions. They literally didn't have enough knowledge to make even the smallest judgment. Which meant work was constantly stopping -- and frequently had to be redone. The men were more than capable of learning what was necessary to make low level decisions on site, and she saw no reason for delaying that step.

"Are you sure that's wise?" he inquired. "If one of them were to be taken by the outlanders, the enemy could gain invaluable intelligence."

"Perhaps," she allowed, "but we need people who understand what they're doing, so they can make judgments in the field instead of having to have even the smallest decisions made by myself or Lemier." She shook her head. "The current level of oversight necessary is just ridiculous and slowing work down."

"I can understand why you might see it that way, Highness, but--"

"It's necessary," she cut him off sharply, holding up a hand. "That is, if you want to be able to produce heavy artillery in under a season."

Whatever he was about to say died unspoken, and he tipped his head to one side in acknowledgment.

"Now, is that all?" she asked dismissively, suddenly wanting to get him as far away from her as possible. Despite all of his years of loyal service, she wasn't sure he cared about the good of their people anymore. "Because if it is, I have work to finish here."

Dismissed, there was little he could do to stay without incurring more anger on her part. Finally, he ducked his head respectfully. "As you wish, My Liege."

She leaned back in her chair, staring after him until he'd gone, then tipped her head back and let her eyes slide closed. It was no comfort to have the outlander's face appear instantly in her thoughts along with a near painful level of desire. The nights of sleeping with the other woman so close -- her scent in the air, the soft sounds she made during the night a constant reminder -- were hell on her libido. Her thoughts were tormented by images of Janet Fraiser's body twined -- naked in the sheets -- with her own, while her dreams were of the two of them bound together, completely emotionally devoted to one another. In the dreams, there was even a child to seal their bond. She ruffled her hair, and pinched the bridge of her nose tiredly. There was something about the woman that held her in thrall, and she was beginning to think that running away from it was more than difficult, it was impossible. A soft sigh escaped her lips. The woman had been ill used -- there was little question of that -- but was she more sinned against than sinning? Terreis massaged her temple, her thoughts running in endless circles as she tried to decide what to do, afraid that there was only one certainty in the whole mess. Something was going to have to give.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

"No, that's the general," Elyana said as Janet started to slide one of the figures on the gameboard in front of her backwards. "In the third round, the general can move in any direction but toward his home keep." The maid had started teaching her the chess-like game the day before to pass the time now that Janet wasn't sleeping all the time.

Janet eyed the complex array of pieces spread out on the octagonal game board. "Right," she sighed, disgusted with herself for forgetting rules that would normally have been fairly easy for her. Even though she knew she needed the mental stimulation, she was too distracted her worries about Elyana's plea that she speak to Sam. With her head already on the chopping block -- the axe literally poised just above her neck -- getting involved in the whole mess was probably just asking for it to drop. Unfortunately, she couldn't turn Elyana down after the way the young woman had cared for her in such a genuinely kind manner. The maid cleared her throat, and Janet realized she'd slid off into her own thoughts for a moment. She reached out moving the game piece in a more or less random direction, any attempt at tactics discarded.

Elyana raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment, instead leaning forward to contemplate her own move.

Leaning back, Janet silently watched her. She'd initially assumed the young woman was both innocent and a little simple, but since learning of the girl's position had come to the conclusion that was simply a defensive façade. Elyana was smart. Janet noted the way she considered her moves. She was smart, and she was careful. The illusion of innocence was probably her best protection, allowing her manipulate people who never suspected she was even remotely capable of such a thing. It sickened her more than she cared to contemplate that the younger woman had lived a life that made that kind of knowledge necessary.

Then it was her turn to move again and Janet found herself staring at the board, and trying to care about the array of strategies possible. She was still struggling to remember the basic list of legal moves when she heard the sound of the main doors opening and closing again, then a soft voice. Janet looked up from the board just as Sam stepped through the archway between the anteroom and the main bedroom. Despite her best intention to remain cool and in control, she felt her heartrate speed up as their gazes locked and held. Sam's hair was disarrayed as though she'd been running her fingers through it -- the way she often did when she was frustrated with something back at the SGC -- and the delicate crown she normally wore was dangling from the hand hanging at her side. Janet swallowed hard, held prisoner by the intensity of the gaze directed her way. It lasted no more than a moment or two, and then Sam turned to look toward her guard.

"Rubio," the blonde said softly and waved the guard over. As they stood speaking in hushed tones, Janet glanced at Elyana, whose eyes shone with hopeful lights.

"Please," the girl mouth, pounding the last nail in Janet's coffin.

Sighing softly, the doctor nodded. "I'll try," she mouthed.

"Try what?" a wry voice cut in and Janet looked over, eyes going wide as she realized Sam had seen the silent communication.

She swallowed hard, feeling vaguely like a deer in the headlights -- very rapidly advancing headlights if previous experience was any gauge. "Try to ... to speak to you," she said hesitantly. Dark blonde brows rose in silent question. "I was wondering if we could speak ... alone?"

"Interesting you should ask," the blond said very softly, her tone unreadable, "since I was going to make that very suggestion." Sharp blue eyes pinned her in place.

Janet had a bad feeling they weren't looking to discuss the same things. "Oh." She wondered if she sounded as uneasy as she felt.

A blonde brow ticked upward another notch, but Sam didn't comment, just turned pointed look on Rubio. "Rubio ... Elyana ... I'll notify you when I need you." She nodded toward the anteroom. "And close the door behind you."

"Yes, My Queen," the guard said, while Elyana rose and joined him. A moment later, the door clicked shut in their wake, leaving Janet completely alone with the woman who now controlled her life.

A moment passed and then another. Finally, Sam spoke up, her voice soft, her tone unrevealing. "You said you wished to speak to me?" she prompted, apparently tired of the wait, and hesitant to reveal her own hand.

"Yes," Janet said softly. She was sitting on the edge of the narrow pallet that served as her bed, the manacles that bound one wrist to the inset bedrail guaranteeing she couldn't go anywhere. Sam drew closer, forcing Janet to crane her head back on her neck at a painful angle to maintain eye contact. She considered pushing to her feet, but Sam pulled a chair over, settling into it as she leaned forward, peering at Janet, her expression unreadable. "It's about Rubio and Elyana."

The purposely bland expression broke for the first time as a hint of a frown creased Sam's brow. Clearly, that wasn't what she'd expected to hear. "I see," she said cautiously. "And?"

Janet took a deep breath, glancing down at her twined hands where they rested on the small table that sat near her bed. Her mind was threatening to go blank as she struggled to think of a way to broach the problem of the money owed to the young servants ... while trying to avoid their reasons for needing it. She should never have agreed to this, she thought as she tried to organize her thoughts, terrified of screwing it up. "Apparently you promised Rubio a bonus for my care..." she said carefully, instinctively aware of the way Sam tensed as though expecting a fight.

The taller woman nodded. "Yes ... a considerable one." She leaned forward, elbows braced on her knees, watching Janet closely. "Your life is valuable to me, and I wanted him to understand that."

Janet glanced up and froze, momentarily trapped once again by the expression in familiar blue eyes, uncertain of its meaning and a little afraid. She swallowed hard, whatever speech she'd planned suddenly forgotten under the impact of the look directed her way. "They've ... uh ... they've done a good job."

Sam nodded, still watching Janet closely. Her gaze broke, sliding away from Janet's to trail over the doctor's slender frame, noting every detail with absolute precision. "Yes, they have," she allowed, then met dark brown eyes once again. "I didn't think it would be possible for you to improve so quickly."

Janet purposely looked away, struggling to put together her shattered thoughts. "I didn't either," she admitted, back to studying her hands to distract herself. "They need the money," she said at last when she couldn't think of a gentler approach. She looked up. "Rubio and Elyana, I mean ... they need the bonus you promised them."

Sam's frown deepened, her lips momentarily working, though no sound came out. "What does this have to do with you?" she finally asked.

Which put Janet on the spot, uncertain how to answer in a way that didn't give away their secrets or make her look like she was plotting something. "They've been kind to me. I just want to help ... and I ... I know they need the money ... and ... you agreed they've done the job well."

An eyebrow twitched, but Sam's expression remained otherwise unreadable. "One could argue they haven't finished it yet," she countered, her tone cool, "and that any bonuses are somewhat premature."

"Perhaps," Janet allowed, trying to avoid any kind of argument, and suspecting she wasn't doing well at all, "but they need it now ... quickly...." The doctor half expected an explosion. She could see the other woman's suspicions and dreaded what might happen. She was surprised when Sam simply leaned back in the chair, her gaze assessing.

"Why?" she asked quietly. "They live in the palace ... have food from the kitchens ... and clothes from the supply room ... why do they need that much money?"

Janet swallowed hard, her eyes falling away again. When she finally spoke, the words came in halting, broken sentences. "I'm not ... in a position to ... to say...." Which sounded really lame, even to her own ears. Somehow, she didn't see that convincing Sam of much of anything ... except maybe that she was up to something.

Dark blonde brows shot ceilingward right on schedule. "And yet you opened this subject," Sam pointed out practically.

"I know," Janet sighed. "I'm not asking for anything for myself. I'm just--"

"Asking for gold on behalf of your guard," Sam cut her off firmly, though she didn't appear to be angry, just suspicious. "Surely you can see why that might arouse some skepticism ... especially since you refuse to explain why."

Hard to argue that point. Janet nodded, struggling to remain calm and cool, well aware that the other woman was gauging her every expression. Janet studied her friend for a long moment, seeing both suspicion and an innate curiosity which needed satisfaction. The blonde wouldn't back down from her desire to know why ... and any attempt to deny her that information would only guarantee that she kept pressing and thought the worst. Which left the doctor with a difficult decision to make. If she kept her word to Elyana and kept her pregnancy secret, god only knew when Rubio might get the money they needed. And if she didn't, she was betting someone else's future that Sam was still herself underneath the patina of a queen that had been forced on her.

"Is this an attempt to use my gold to bribe your guard?" the blonde asked, sounding surprisingly calm considering some of her recent responses.

Janet shook her head. "No ... even if I could, I don't think it would work," she answered honestly. Rubio and Elyana were both phenomenally loyal to the woman they believed to be their queen. Afraid of losing their trust and friendship, she'd been careful not to risk making them feel torn between herself and Sam.

"Then why?"

"They've been kind to me ... and...." The situation was almost impossible to explain and she momentarily fell silent. Sam wasn't going to even consider going along with her request until she understood the situation. "Elyana's pregnant," she said at last, praying she was right.

A hint of a smile touched soft lips, and she thought she saw relief in blue eyes. "I can see why Rubio would want to provide," Sam murmured, "but given that she can't be very far along, I'm not sure it's that much of a rush."

A muscle pulled taut along the curve of Janet's jaw and she quietly disagreed, "Yes ... it is."

A moment's silence followed, then Sam spoke, her voice soft and serious to indicate she'd picked up on Janet's conflicted emotions. "Why?"

Janet ran a hand through her hair. She should have stayed out of this. No matter what she did, there was a risk to the young couple, and a risk she'd be blamed for something. Unfortunately, having started she couldn't stop now. Hello, Point of No Return -- You Are Here. "Do you realize Elyana's a slave?" she asked at last.

The deep frown and look of genuine confusion answered the question more eloquently than words.

"Apparently someone named Ezri ... owns ... her." Janet's lips curled with distaste at the idea. "He allowed Rubio to ... buy ... her ... on credit ... but if he finds out about the baby before it's paid off, they think he'll rescind the deal ... or demand an increased price that Rubio can't afford."

"Are you sure?" Sam's voice was a tight, angry rasp.

Janet nodded, then jumped when her friend suddenly pushed to her feet, her expression strained. "Rubio ... Elyana," she called out as she paced over to the main doors and pushed one open.

The guard and his wife quickly appeared, looking a little uneasy.

Sam peered at Elyana for a long moment -- hunting for some sign of the claimed pregnancy perhaps -- then spoke, her voice low, but commanding. "I understand you're with child ... and Ezri still has papers on you?" Her gaze swung sideways to touch on Rubio, taking in the way he lost all color and stepped protectively in front of his wife.

"My Queen--" Rubio began, the words coming out too quickly, his tone borderline to panicked.

"Is this true?" she cut him off before he could say any more.

For a brief second, he looked utterly horrified, and then his expression closed down. Folding his hands together at the small of his back, he straightened his spine and met her gaze. "Yes, My Queen." When Elyana gasped softly and took a half step forward, he reached behind himself, his hand wrapping around her to pull her into a protected position against his back.

Janet wished she could see Sam's expression, but her only clue to the other woman's mood was her the stiff tension in her back. A beat passed, and then suddenly she stepped around Rubio, her strides long and hurried as she rushed out, leaving the shell-shocked trio behind her. Her only verbal response to the situation was a bit out, "See to the prisoner," as she slammed the door in her wake.

Elyana flinched as though the crash of the door was an actual blow, the hand on Rubio's shoulder clamping down with rigid strength.

Trembling, Janet stared after Sam, her heart suddenly hammering against the inside of her ribs.

"You told her," Rubio growled, his voice thick with anger and betrayal.

Dark eyes swung over to touch on the young guard, the guilt in Janet's expression confirming his suspicions.

"I don't know how you knew, but why would you...." He couldn't finish, and was silent for a long moment. "We've taken care of you ... seen to everything." He looked back at his wife, emotion thickening his voice. "Elyana's been a friend to you when most people would have cheerfully slit your throat in hopes of a reward from Minister Valchon. Why did you tell the queen?"

Janet stared helplessly up at the man. She'd promised Elyana she wouldn't tell him about her request, and couldn't explain why she'd been so certain she could trust Sam. "I didn't ... it was--"

His lips pulled back from his gritted teeth, and he lunged forward a half step. "If I lose my wife and child because of you--"

"Rubio, no," Elyana broke in and stepped around her husband, hands braced on his chest as she halted his advance. "She didn't know," she soothed.

He shook his head, unable to let go of the anger. "If she's gone to tell Sire Ezri...." True hate flickered in his eyes at the mention of the man who legally owned his wife. His hands rose, and he gripped Elyana's upper arms tightly. "If we left now, we might be able to--"

"No," the maid said quickly, cutting him off, "if we run, they'd find us ... and it would be worse ... with no hope."

Still in shock, Janet could only sit shaking her head. Sam wouldn't.... She couldn't.... It wasn't in her to knowingly hand someone over to that kind of fate ... to send a woman and child into slavery. And yet, Sam had done so many things she wouldn't have thought possible since they'd played with her mind. Her skull suddenly throbbing violently, she let her head fall forward, hiding her face in her hands as she listened to the pair she might have unintentionally consigned to hell.

"I won't let them take you ... I won't let that bastard touch you--"

"I won't let it happen," Janet spoke up, her soft voice somehow overriding Rubio's furious desperation.

He pushed Elyana aside, glaring at Janet with barely contained rage. "You'll stop it?" he sneered, waving his hand at her chained wrist. "You're the lowest of the low ... a slave has more rights. You can't even save yourself--"

"But, if necessary, I can save you," the doctor countered, her voice deadly calm, while her eyes were just dead. She looked up, and Rubio fell silent when he saw her expression.

"There's nothing you can do," he finally whispered, his voice little more than a tortured rasp.

"Yes, there is," she disagreed with that same, eerie calm. "I can trade for your freedom--"

"Except you have nothing of value," he snarled disdainfully, angry at her presumption that she could fix anything.

"You're wrong," Janet said very softly, her voice painfully sad. "I have myself...."

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *