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Chapter Text

Running with Wolves

Chapter 1 – Lost

The first thing that reaches Teyla's mind is a skull-splitting headache. She forces her eyes open, shields them against the blinding light of the sun and tries to collect herself. There's moisture on her forehead; she wipes it and looks at her hand. There's blood.
It makes sense. The last thing she remembers is taking a sharp blow to the head, out there, in that seemingly deserted ancient outpost.
Teyla looks around.
She's by herself, stripped of most of her equipment, in a small forest clearing, the vibrant green of the treetops colliding with the blue of the cloudless sky.
Her first idea is to explore, find shelter and clean water. Secure survival, then worry about regrouping. This should be easy for her, as Teyla has lived off the land many times before.

It takes her a moment to regain balance after she gets to her feet. To her surprise, the hunting knife strapped to her ankle is still there, she feels its weight on her leg. Just out of caution, she draws the short blade and holds it by her side, as she ventures into the forest.

Once under the thick foliage, the sun no longer blinds her. The forest is wild, untouched. Teyla doubts that this area is populated. She has to cut down branches to make her path, looking for a larger tree or maybe a cave, something to shield her from the elements during the nights.
A base of operations, somewhat. Someplace defensible, someplace she can hide if she needs to.

Subtle movement catches Teyla's attention from the corner of her eye. The grip on her knife tightens and she holds her breath, listening for footfalls, snapping of branches, rustling of leaves, while still continuing to move. Slower, but if she is being followed, it is important to keep moving.
The team had obviously been ambushed, and she'd been taken, then released here. The idea that she's being watched isn't that far-fetched.
Several ideas come to mind. The Wraith, of course, with their habit of keeping runners. But they would have stunned her instead of beating her unconscious. Then, the Genii, although Teyla struggles to come up with something they would gain from this. Apart from revenge, of course. But then, they usually target John, not her.

Her thoughts and wariness for her follower cause her to fail to notice the more immediate threat.

The floor gives way under Teyla's feet, she stumbles and tries to grab something to hold on to, but it's too late.
She falls, but her fall is broken much too early. Someone's grabbed her arm, and she dangles over a pit full of metal spikes and dirt. Her legs are tangled in a net that'd been laid out over the trap and concealed with leaves and soil.
Teyla breathes heavily, looks up to thank her savior, but her blood freezes in her veins when she sees them.

Yellow reptile-eyes, light green skin. Dark hair, pulled together into a knot. A Wraith!
While Teyla's mind races, the Wraith narrows her eyes and pulls, her claws digging into Teyla's exposed forearm. She pulls her up from the pit, lets go and backs off.
Teyla's managed to keep hold of her knife during her fall, so she gets to her feet and raises the blade to the Wraith, staring, trying to read her body language.

Instead of trying to overpower her, the Wraith raises both hands defensively. Teyla notices that her right hand is wrapped in cloth.
“We have the same goal.” she speaks to her, the multifaceted timbre of her voice sending shivers down Teyla's spine. “I saved you.”
“Yes.” Teyla counters, breathless. “You kept me alive, to feed on me later.” She doesn't lower her knife.
The Wraith shakes her head.
“You are the first sapient being I encountered on this planet.” she says, disregarding her statement. “And since you fell into that trap, I doubt you were the one setting traps in this forest. My shuttle was shut down when it exited the orbital Gate. I am the only one who survived the emergency landing. I may be able to fix it, but I cannot survive alone.”
Despite Teyla's raised weapon, she steps closer to her.
“There is strength in numbers. You are more valuable to me as an ally than sustenance.” she elaborates. “There are many dangers in these woods. We need each other.”

“You did not set this trap either?” Teyla asks, thoughts swirling in her head.
“I did not. We are both victims in this game.” the Wraith continues. “I saw one of their ships in the sky when you appeared. The same ship that attacked my shuttle. You and I were placed her intentionally.”
Teyla nods slowly. If this was a plot to trick her, they would not send a Queen to do it.
“You say you can repair your ship? What then?” she asks, less hostile but still on her guard.
“I fly it to the Gate and dial the next best planet with a Stargate. Then, you and I go our seperate ways. I will make my own efforts to find out who trapped me here and why. Our truce will only last until we escape. Then, we go back to normal.” she explains, lowering her hands.
Teyla responds by also lowering her knife, but she doesn't sheathe it yet.
“Show me the wreckage.” she demands and the Wraith nods.
“Follow me and watch your step. There are more traps.”

Teyla walks with her, following her footsteps meticulously, to avoid triggering another trap. The Wraith's gait is irregular, clearly avoidng certain spots. She walks in front of Teyla, turning her back to her, and Teyla assumes it is a show of goodwill from her.
She's dressed in a leather travel coat, reaching down to her thighs, heavy silken skirts and laced boots, reaching her knees. Her attire is worn and dirty, stained with blood in certain spots. The cloth she's wrapped her feeding hand in seems to have been torn from her skirt.

“We have arrived.” she announces, leading Teyla into another small clearing.
Indeed, there is the wreck of a Wraith spacecraft, bigger than their Darts, to hold passengers. It's sparking elecrticity from the torn hole in its hull, and leaks yellowish-green fluid, like blood from a wound.
“It has doubled as shelter for the time being.” the Wraith adds and leads her around, to the open hatch.
Inside, between rows of seats, are four bodies, sprawled out on the ground. One of them is a male Wraith, in a puddle of his own blood. The others are Drones, one with its neck snapped, the other two drained of life.
“My Pilot and this one died in the crash. I have fed on the survivors to mend my wounds.” the Wraith explains the sight. “In case you worry about my dietary requirements, unless I get injured, I will not need to feed for another three months. And by then, I plan to have left this planet already.”
Teyla nods silently, sheathes her knife and looks around.

The controls of the shuttle are alien to her, but there is a faint spark of light when she touches them. Responding to her DNA, she muses. In case the Queen betrays her once the shuttle is repaired, she's positive she will be able to fly it.
There are open spots in the walls, revealing tissue and circuits, some having metal pierced into the.
Teyla assumes that she Wraith has dismantled some traps to acquire materials. Half of her works looks like straight up surgery to her.
“You believe you can repair this?” she asks the Wraith, who is standing by the shuttle's entrance.
“It does not need to be in perfect condition. It merely needs to fly.” she responds. “I have been gathering materials from my surroundings, and I do believe I have a good chance to get this shuttle skyworthy again.”
“Materials?” Teyla parrots and turns to face her again.

“Our ships are organic.” the Queen explains. “Normally, they are grown with our own life force, directed by a Queen. But in emergencies such as this one, I can use animal carcasses to feed the machine.” She picks up something from one of the seats. When she weighs it in her hand, Teyla sees that it's a stunner. “I have been hunting vertebraes ever since I recovered from the crash, but it is a dangerous endeavor to undertake. We are not alone in these woods. And that is why I need you.”

Reeling from the initial pulse of adrenaline when seeing the Wraith pick up a weapon, Teyla exhales sharply.
“What else is out there?” she inquires.
“I am not certain what they are. They look like large animals, but they do not behave the part.” the Queen responds. “You will understand when you first encounter them. For now, you should rest. You are wounded.”
She gestures to the gash on Teyla's forehead.
“Give me your weapon.” she demands and raises her chin when the Wraith doesn't comply. “I am not sleeping in your presence, knowing that you are armed.”
“I would not need my stunner if I wanted to kill you.” she angles her head at her. “And if I did want to kill you, I had plenty of opportunities so far. I will need this weapon, in case we are attacked.”

Teyla holds her gaze for several seconds then turns away and settles on one of the vacant seats. There is no triumphant retort from her unlikely ally. Instead, she hears her leave the shuttle and sit down outside.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2 – Hunter

The morning comes and a gentle nudge wakes Teyla. She's slept seventeen hours, exhausted from her wounds and the stress of what she'd gone through.
The Wraith had lightly shoved her by the shoulder, to wake her up.
“We need to go into the woods and hunt.” she lets her know. “And while we do, we will also find you something to eat.”
Teyla nods silently. Hunger pangs in her stomach, and she would very much like to be in good condition, should she need to defend herself against her apparent companion. She gets up, straightens herself and follows the Wraith around with her gaze.
She's reached up to a compartment near the ceiling of the shuttle, and opened it. From inside, she pulls one of those large stun rifles Drones usually carry.
“Do you know how to use this?” she asks Teyla, who nods.
When the Wraith hands her the weapon, Teyla sees herself running her through with the pointy end, but she doesn't act on that thought.

Instead, she lets the Wraith lead her outside, back into the thick woods.
It's colder than the day before, the crisp breeze hits Teyla and she shivers. Once she progresses deeper into the forest, the trees will shield her from the wind, she muses, as she makes sure to follow the Wraith's exact footsteps.
Her gaze is fixed to her companion's back, who, aside her smaller stunner, also carries a rifle, casually propped up on her shoulder.
They don't speak during their trek. The Wraith seems to know exactly where she's going, and eventually stops by the edge of another clearing.

A small herd of deer is grazing there. Ten animals, give or take. The Wraith spins her rifle into a useable position and kneels down behind the leaves, only the muzzle of her weapon peeking out. Teyla mimics her, and gives her a questioning look, not daring to speak, worrying she might alert the deer to their presence.
“Take a smaller one.” the Wraith whispers to her. “Do not fire until I do.”

Without another word, she trains her gaze on her mark, watching the deer move until she can get a clear shot on her intended target.
The rifle fires its blue bolt and hits a large buck in the side. It cries out, as the herd begins moving, fleeing into the woods. The buck, not quite sedated by one hit, is slower but still runs along with the herd.
The Wraith fires again, hitting almost the same spot with a sharpshooter's precision. It takes another two blots before the hulking animal stumbles and sinks to the ground.
Teyla did not manage to get a shot off at another animal, as the panic induced by the initial attack caused the herd to flee.

The Wraith rises, shouldering her rifle, and walks out into the clearing. Teyla reluctantly follows, approaching the stunned buck, laying on its side. The Wraith kneels down, takes its head into her arms, and without much effort, snaps its neck.
“Find me a large, sturdy branch. We will need to carry it together.” she orders, and Teyla obeys without commenting.

It takes her a while to find a suitable branch, the traps slowing her down immensely. Eventually, she snaps one off a tree and carries it back to the clearing. It's not very heavy on its own, but their kill is large.
When she makes it back, the Wraith has already tied the animal's front- and hindlegs together, and beckons her in.
Together, and without a single word, the two women lift the carcass up, held aloft on the stick, and begin carrying it.
The Wraith shoulders most of the weight. Teyla realizes, she's only here for balance.

They take a different, longer path back, to avoid traps, as the Wraith states. Teyla does agree, their ability to evade severely limited by their burden.
By the time they finally make it back to the shuttle, it's approaching noon. Teyla's body aches, plagues by hunger and fatigue, but she doesn't complain.
After setting their kill down, the Wraith walks into the shuttle and returns after a few minutes, carrying a roll of organic tubes, which she begins connecting with the open wound in the shuttle's hull.
The viscera willingly fuses with the tubes, as if it had a will of its own.

Eventually, she raises the other end of the tube-bundle, showing it to Teyla. There are sharp implements at the ends, with a hollow stinger.
“Connect these to the carcas. Focus on neck and torso. Then, get a fire going.” she instructs. “In the meantime, I will hunt you food.”
Teyla nods in silent acknowledgement and takes the bundle.
To her horror, the soft tissue is moving in her hand, pulsing, as if it had a heartbeat. She watches the Wraith walk off into the direction they'd come from, then looks down to the buck.
With a heavy sigh, she gets to work.

After unraveling a singular tube from the bundle, she lets the stinger sink into the buck's neck. Immediately, the tube jerks and hardens. Bioluminescent lights pulse from one end to the other, along with a lifelike throb. Teyla watches the disturbing implement for a moment, then shakes her head, and pushes the next stinger into the creature, now directly under its front leg, near the heart.
The tube glows bright and jerks like a captures snake.
As repulsive as this is, Teyla finds herself intrigued by the technology. She continues connecting the tubes, then watches the unified pulse of light in all of them.
The edges of the hole in the shuttle's hull have begun moving, ever so slightly, barely noticeably. She rises to her feet and approaches the borders of the forest, to collect firewood.

She had barely an armful of dry branches, when the sound of rustling leaves makes her whip around, ready to defend herself.
But it's just the Wraith, carrying a dead rabbit by its ears. Teyla nods in greeting, and finishes gathering firewood while the Wraith passes her.
When she returns to the shuttle, the Wraith sits by the entrance skinning the rabbit with her hunting knife.

“I hope you do not mind.” she speaks to her, pointing at the knife.
“No.” Teyla simply replies and sits down at her side, to begin working on the fire. “I am surprised that you know how to do that.”
“Why would I not?” asks the Wraith and Teyla gives a nondescript hum in response. She watches her cut the rabbit up, and impale the pieces on a shaved stick, to hold into the fire.

For a while, Teyla stares into the flames, the smell of cooking meat making her even hungrier. She side-eyes the Wraith, who idly spins the rabbit meat over the fire.
“If we are to work together for the forseeable future,” she eventually addresses her. “I will need to know what to call you.”
The Wraith looks up from her work.
“You may call me whatever you wish.” she says and Teyla trains her gaze back to the fire. She expected that response.
Unlike John, she isn't that creative at naming Wraith. Additionally, his names for them usually carry a humorous connotation she feels isn't appropriate here.
Her thoughts trail off to the texts from Earth she's read in Atlantis. Through historical figures, mythology and fairy tales, she ponders. For now, this Wraith has proven useful in her hunting capabilities.
An idea reaches her and she speaks up again.

“Artemis.” she says, drawing the Wraith's attention once more. “That is what I am going to call you.”
An expression of mild amusement dominates the Wraith's features.
“Very well.” she says and spins the meat again. “My name is Artemis. A pleasure to make your acquaintance. Who are you?”
She doesn't sound like she's mocking her.
“Teyla.” she says, not intending to respond with the same pleasantries, nor wanting to give her a full name. Artemis nods.
“Teyla.” she repeats and hands her the stick. “Your food is ready.”