Working Title: Surrender by Conquest
Crossover: SGA/Anne Bishop's Blood Realms
Pairing: John/Ronon eventual
Rating: PG-13 for slavery and sexual themes
Author's Note: Knoweledge of both universes helpful but not necessary.



He’s never met a King before. The potential was rare and those in whom the calling wasn’t strong were rarely acknowledged. They spent their lives as slightly strange Princes. Which meant that those few that were known usually wore Dark Jewels and were impossible to miss.

For a people that had thousands of years of matriarchal history where the only constant was that males served, it was always a bit of a shock. Less so then two centuries ago, when King Haledon conquered half the Realm, provoked to war by Queens who refused to see that the caste thought to be exclusive to females no longer was, but still a difficult phenomena. Kings weren’t much like other Blood males of any caste, there was a calm, a soothing warmth to them that made Blood males knees go weak.

Right now, kneeling on the marble floor and held in place by the chains stretched taunt from his collar to the floor and his back an agony of pain the King’s scent catches him sharply and shame floods him. He shifts, tries flexing muscles to gather in his limbs. He wants to look aware, more like a warrior restrained and less like spineless garbage thrown out, wants to look good, wants to impress and hates himself for that hopeless desire.

How many times must he be used and betrayed and discarded before he stops caring? He knows his own worth; he wears the Sapphire and is an excellent warrior. A Warlord Prince with an unusual amount of control in the heat of battle, it’s the only reason he’s still alive. He’s not sure how much longer that’ll be true. The Warriors of the Court resent him and fear him. It’s a fine line between their desire to win against their enemies and their rage at having to listen to a slave.

He’s tired. Darkness, he’s so tired of killing for a cause and a people that disgust him. So tired of fighting and killing and having nothing, but nothing, outside the killing field.

He feels the moment the King notices him like a slap. He can barely see him from the corner of his eyes, walking with one of the young Queens of the Court. She’s a bitch but she fires his blood every time she comes near, she knows it, enjoys it. Right now though he can barely sense her, the man by her side consumes his attention. The defeated lassitude seems very far away as his senses sing to life and he tries to study him without revealing his attention.

Subtlety, subtlety. It isn’t his natural inclination but he can practice it when necessary.

He figures the King must wear dark Jewels but there’s a depth to the stillness around him that doesn’t taste much like Jeweled Power at all and it intrigues him.

They’re talking about a trade treaty, visitors allowed and goods exchanged, talk he’s not entirely following, it’s not his department and he’s got no context, no idea where this man is even from. He follows what’s happening easily enough when the King stops walking and asks about him.

“A slave, we use him sometimes for skirmishes at the borders, the army finds him useful. But slaves will be slaves,” she makes a delicate moue of distaste.

“He completely ruined the last mission he was on,” she finishes, voice sweet and sugary, fawning over the visitor. No surprise there, a new, powerful male is always a prize that is coveted.

Its all Ronon can do to chock back the rage her words trigger. He swallows it, like he has so many times before, any retort from him will be pathetic in this setting and he has no desire for a longer punishment.

“I think the Master of the Guard mentioned something of the sort. It sounds like he’s more trouble then he’s worth for you. Why don’t you get rid of him?” the King drawls, relaxed and casual. Is it his imagination that the man’s eyes flick to Ronon’s face and suppressed amusement almost curls an expressive mouth?

“Well, we might give him another chance. Make him earn back what he’s lost us” he can hear her malicious smile in her words.

“He’s not any good in bed but pretty enough if you’re not in the mood for anything fancy. Would you care to try him, John? Though really, we have much better options to offer to make your stay more pleasant, pleasure slaves that …”

They move on and pass out of his hearing range. He’s puzzled, there had been nothing sexual about the man’s, John’s, interest in him but there had been definite interest, sharp and assessing. Nothing he can do about it at the moment. He closes his eyes and clears his mind to wait for however long it’s going to take before he’s released. He’ll be ready for whatever comes next, he always is.