Chapter Thirty Summary: Sam, Martouf and Lantash finally manage to return to Sam's house. Sam is very tired, so they order take out and just enjoy being together. Sam wants to know what their relationship is like, and she starts to ask them questions. One thing leads to another and soon the talking dies down and the passion takes over.
Amat Wyn – My Love Coeurawyn – My Heart Aima Coeurawyn - Blood of My Heart Igisadonis Animawyn - Beloved of My Soul Mer Cory’esh Mae’tek – My Lifemate
The Following are the Tok’Ra words: Mer - My, Cory’esh - Life, Mae’tek - Mate FyCariad – Dearest
Samantha Carter closed the door and locked it against the world. God, it had been a long day. Martouf watched her as she leaned back against the front door, tiredly closed her eyes, and massaged her temples. It was plain to see that she was weary.
“You are tired, my heart. What can I do that will be of help you?”
Sam opened her eyes, looked at him appraisingly, and grinned. “Are you sure you want to make that offer?” Sam asked him, with a challenging gaze.
“I am quite sure, Samantha. I know you are very tired, and I wish to do anything I can to make your evening as stress free as possible,” he said, his sympathy for her tiredness apparent in his voice. He reached out, caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers, and gave her a small smile. “Truly, I will be more than happy to assist you in any way that I can; Lantash agrees with me that there is no reason we cannot be of service to you.”
Determining that he was sincere, she said, “Okay, follow me. You are about to get your first lesson in ordering take out.”
“What is this, take out?” Martouf wanted to know. “Where are we to take it? Is it very far? Do we need to take the car?” Martouf frowned, “And who are we to order? I do not think I quite understand, Samantha.”
Sam shook her head as if to clear it saying, “We are not taking it anywhere, therefore it is not far, and we do not need to take the car. As for ordering, we are going to order the take out. I will show you. It is very easy once you know the numbers and have done it a time or two.” She concluded her answers and explanations by asking him, “How does Italian sound to you?”
Martouf opened his mouth and then closed it. He looked a little confused. “What is Italian?” He finally questioned her.
Sam collapsed back against the couch with the phone in her hand. She stared at him for a long moment, and then murmured to herself, “I am talking to someone who thought Ronald McDonald was an alien, and a Big Mac was an interesting combination of flavors.” Speaking up, she said, “You will love it.” Looking back down at the phone in her hand, she said, “Okay, this is the programmed phone. Numbers one through six are: the base, followed by the Colonel, Daniel, Janet, Teal’c’s extension on base, and my brother Mark. Seven through twelve are take-out. Italian is number eight.”
“I am afraid that I still do not think I fully comprehend what you are telling me,” Martouf said hesitantly. He sat down next to her on the sofa, while trying to assimilate the barrage of information for contacting certain people via this phone, which, he had determined, was a rather primitive communications device.
“However primitive it is, it must be useful here on the Tau’ri world, or they would not use it. We should probably pay attention to the instructions for its use.” Lantash admonished him.
Sam studied him for a moment and then evidently came to a decision, because she told him, “Okay, I guess I need to explain a few other things first, and then we will phone in for take-out.” Having discerned her way, she started with some more basic information, stating, “This is a telephone; we use it to contact other people and places. Tonight we are going to use it to contact a restaurant, and order some take-out, so we don’t have to cook. To use the phone you use phone numbers. Everyone and everyplace has their own unique number, so when you call them, you are calling directly to them. Now, phone numbers are long numbers that are a pain to remember, so if you program numbers you use a lot into your phone, then all you have to remember is the one number. Therefore, if I want Italian, then all I do is press the number eight. You watch this time, and then next time, I will allow you to do it.”
Martouf nodded as the “phone” now made more sense to him. He was sure he understood its basic use. He watched as Sam pushed the number eight on the numbered area and then put it to her ear. He then listened as Samantha ordered something called lasagna, spaghetti with meatballs with salads and garlic bread, and linguine in Alfredo sauce with shrimp. With his enhanced hearing, he could almost make out what the person on the other end of the “phone” was saying, but not quite. It was somewhat muffled by Samantha’s hair and ear.
As she hung up the phone, she turned to him, “I could not decide on what I wanted for sure, so I ordered extra. We can always have leftovers tomorrow or the next day.” She gave him a bright smile now that food was no longer a concern. “It will be about forty-five minutes before it is delivered, so I am going to take my shower first, just in case they get here early. I hope that we will both be finished, and you can see how to pay for it, too. That way, you can do it sometime, if I am not here, and you get hungry before I get home.”
Taking him at his word that he wanted to be helpful, she stood and turned toward the bedroom, as she continued, “While I hit the showers, grab a bottle of wine, and put it in the fridge. I like it a little cool, not cold. Then get the plates and stuff out, and set the table,” Sam called out instructions, as she continued toward the bedroom and the shower stripping off her clothing as she went. Continually raising her voice, as she got farther away, she continued, “I will finish up whatever you don’t get finished when I get out of the shower.”
“Oh, and remind me that tonight is trash night, and we really,” she stressed, “have to put the garbage out, or we will come home some evening later in the week to an extremely unpleasant odor. Especially,” she said, “after tonight’s dinner.”
Martouf stood and made his way across the room, only to stand bewildered in front of the door to the kitchen. Lantash was grumbling. “What exactly was it she said about the wine? She wants it cold, not cool? Or was it the other way around? I am not good at the domestic things that are required on the Tau’ri world. How are we to know where to look for these things?”
“I believe she said she likes it cool, not cold, and she also requested we do something with,” he paused, obviously thinking, “plates and stuff? Why must a meal be this complicated?” Lantash could feel him hesitate, before he asked, “Lantash, what is a trash night? Moreover, what does it have to do with unpleasant odors?”
“I do not know, Martouf, and I cannot believe that neither of us can complete three small tasks, when we have undertaken many missions where we were required to do much more difficult things than this, with much more complicated instructions,” Lantash said, somewhat waspishly.
Martouf retreated, thus forcing Lantash to take control. He stalked to the cabinet where he had noticed that Samantha kept her wine. There he found what he thought she wanted, but once he had it in his hand; he was undecided about what, exactly, to do with it. What was he to do with it now? Did he put it in the white box to get it cold, he wondered?
“Here, let me take over. You know no more than I do what we are supposed to do.” Lantash retreated abruptly, and Martouf almost dropped the bottle.
“Aahh! Be more careful. I do not want to have to attempt to clean up a mess without knowing where the implements to accomplish that are to be found.” Now having the wine in his hand, he, too, stood undecided as to where to put it. The white box had two doors. Opening the freezer door, he stuck the bottle of wine inside, and then began his search for the other things she had requested.
He heard Lantash sigh, heavily, before saying, “I am sorry, Martouf, I should not have snapped at you. It was uncalled for and inappropriate.”
“No, you should not, and your apology is accepted. As you say, both of us are capable of following very complex instructions, when it comes to a mission. It cannot be that difficult to prepare to eat a meal. Therefore, I am of the opinion that something other than not understanding Samantha’s instructions is bothering you,” Martouf stated in his normal placid, calm way.
“Yes,” Lantash’s response was quite brief.
Martouf waited patiently for him to continue, all the while looking for the plates and stuff that he was sure he would recognize when he saw them. As he opened the last cabinet on that side of the kitchen, he released a sound of triumph. Plates and stuff. He had known they had to be here somewhere. Plates and stuff were for eating, and now he needed to find the candles and the wineglasses.
He also needed eating utensils. He would look in the cabinets on the other side of the room. Again, he had success. Remembering how she had set the plates, utensils and candles on the table before, he proceeded to attempt a similar setting. Something was missing. He frowned. “Mouth cloths,” Lantash said to him.
“You are correct,” he agreed. Another search of the kitchen cabinets turned up a set of matching mouth cloths. Again, he frowned. That did not sound correct, but it looked right on the table. He would have to request the correct name.
“She called them napkins, I believe,” Lantash again answered his unspoken question. “I have no idea why they are called napkins when they are used to wipe ones mouth,” he said, before Martouf could put his questions into words.
Martouf nodded his agreement and feeling triumphant, he relaxed onto the couch. “Are you ready yet to tell me what is wrong, Lantash?” he questioned his friend.
“There is no point in avoiding the issue. I am having more difficulty in controlling the pain in our chest. I am afraid that soon I will no longer be able to shield you from it,” Lantash said, quietly.
Martouf paused, before saying quietly, “Going through the Sevesh Lok Twin would stop it, Lantash.”
“I know. I am beginning to think that I will soon have no choice, but I would prefer to do it because I know it is the right thing to do, not because I am being forced into it by the physical ramifications,” he replied, sounding disconsolate.
“And do you not already know it is the right thing to do, Lantash? Truly the right thing to do?” Martouf asked him softly.
“Yes. Yes, I do know. My mind accepts the inevitability of doing so, but my heart still rebels at the thought of breaking our vows. I am sorry, Martouf,” Lantash responded despondently.
“Kataya and Samantha deserve your apology, not I,” Martouf responded.
“Yes,” Lantash responded grimly. “I am aware. I do truly think I will be able to do it without regret soon, Martouf.”
Martouf sighed. “Then we will simply have to live with the ache until you can do so, Lantash.” Lantash felt Martouf hesitate for a moment and then felt his determination. “The words that Samantha said about love this afternoon, Lantash. It made me realize something.”
“What is that, Martouf?” Martouf’s comment caught his attention.
“Although we have been blended for over a hundred years, I have never told you, in words, what you mean to me, or how alone I would feel without you. I know you have felt my feelings, but I wish to tell you that I have never regretted our blending, even when I have been upset with you and you with me. I wish you to know that I understand how Dominic could have loved you so, and I understand your emotions and love for Kataya.”
“I wish you to know that I will do everything I can to give you the time that you need to come to terms with everything, and I do,” he paused briefly, “I do share your feelings—your love and devotion—for Kataya, Lantash. The more I learn of her and come to know her, the deeper the feelings have grown, but I am doing my best to help you to come to terms with formally parting from her.” He paused once again, and then finished, “For that is all that it will be. I truly believe that the deep love and honor we feel for her will remain, but we will no longer feel this need to—to lie with her.”
Lantash was quiet for a long moment, astonished by the verbal acknowledgement. Then he said to Martouf, “I loved Dominic very much, Martouf, that is true, but what I said to Samantha about you was also true. I consider myself the recipient of a truly extraordinary gift, by having had two such wonderful, caring hosts, and I have learned much from both of you. I love you, Martouf, just as I did Dominic. Please, do not ever doubt that.”
“As for Kataya and your love for her, I am sorry that you have had to be brought into this, but I very much appreciate your willingness to help me to come to terms with our parting. I know and understand what you believe, and I, too, am coming to believe that it is true. I honestly do believe that soon now, I will be able to take my place beside her during the rite of Sevesh Lok Twin. Furthermore, I thank you for your patience, support, and love, Martouf, Mer FyCariad Cory’esh Mae’tek. They mean more to me than I will ever be able to tell you. I can only hope that you can feel how deeply I love and honor you, as well.”
It was Martouf’s turn to sit, astounded and unmoving, as the waves of Lantash’s love washed over and through him, infusing him with a warm and tender glow that clasped his heart and cradled it gently, warming it with the depth of the emotions that he as feeling from Lantash.
That is how Sam found them. “Martouf? Lantash? What is wrong?” She asked, concerned by the bemused look on Martouf’s face.
Martouf smiled at her, one of his endearing, beautiful smiles. “Because of you, Samantha, Lantash, and I have verbalized our feelings for one another. We have told one another how much we care for each other. Neither of us can believe that in all of these years, we never actually acknowledged the feelings we have,” Martouf said quietly.
“I am glad. I think the two of you have a special bond. I think it is very much like the one that Kataya had with Siesha. In fact, I would very much like to talk about…damn, why are they early when you don’t want them to be?” Sighing, she stood up, retrieved her billfold from the counter, and taking Martouf by the hand, gave him his first lesson in paying for takeout.
“Go take your shower, Martouf,” she said, as she shut the door after the delivery boy. “I will put this in the oven to keep it warm.
Twenty minutes later, a gorgeous and sexy Martouf wandered into Samantha’s living room, where she sat reading a technical journal. When she looked up and saw him standing in the doorway dressed in black silk trousers and jacket, she decided that sometimes astrophysics just was not quite as exciting as she had always thought it was.
She swallowed and headed for the kitchen. I am too young for hot flashes she thought, as the temperature in the room seemed to have raised. She checked the oven, nope just set on warm. Okay, Sam, she thought, you have to get through the meal first; then you can have desert.
“Martouf, where is the wine?” Sam called to him from the kitchen where she stood, gazing into the refrigerator.
“It is in the top part of the white box, the, um, refrigerator,” he called back to her, as he lit the candles on the table.
“Okay, um, thanks.” Oh, well, I can get used to really cold wine, she thought. After retrieving the now very cold wine and grabbing the corkscrew, she proceeded to pop the cork. With it and a tray full of food, she headed back to the little alcove. Sitting and watching as the stars came out one by one was a favorite pastime of hers. She hoped he enjoyed it, too.
Sam made sure that Martouf tasted everything before making his choice of what to eat. As she watched him, she asked, “What do you do if you like something, but Lantash doesn’t like it?”
Martouf stared at her for a moment. “I had not really considered it.” He gave it some thought, and it was obvious that he was also participating in an internal conversation. Looking up he said, “Lantash is pointing out that we have actually had that happen a few times; I had simply forgotten. I like a beverage that he does not care for very much. He does not actually actively dislike it, though. We disagree about some foods. There is only one we have a real problem with, and it is one that he likes, and I truly cannot stand.”
“So what do you do?”
“On the ones where one of us likes it, and the other simply does not care for it, we eat it occasionally.”
“What about the one that he likes and you hate?” She asked.
Martouf laughed. “Lantash waits until I am asleep, and then he takes control. He does not allow anything to disturb my sleep, and he eats it while I am unaware of it. He will then eat something I do like, and he cleans our teeth several times to be sure that no taste of it lingers.”
“What happens if you are the one who likes something he hates? You can’t keep him asleep can you?”
“No, and it has not happened.” He stopped speaking to listen for a moment, and then continued, “He tells me that in that case, he would put himself into a trance-like state or dormancy for a time and hope I was finished and had brushed our teeth before he awoke.”
Sam laughed, delighted. “You really do have a great relationship.”
Seeing that he had finished, she suggested they clean up and then move to the couch in the living room. Taking their wine with them, they soon had the food put away and the dishes in the dishwasher. Sam gathered the trash, and then showed them where she kept the bin into which she placed it. She also showed them where to set the garbage cans at the curb of the street for the garbage collectors to pick up the next day. Thus, Martouf and Lantash solved another mystery of the Tau’ri world, and came to understand the importance of trash night, and the importance of placing certain remains outside in the bin in order to prevent any unpleasant odors developing within the abode.
Finally finished with the cleanup of the meal, they sat on the sofa in a comfortable silence and enjoyed simply being together and alone. As they relaxed there, Sam rubbed her hand up and down the silk trousers they were wearing realizing how wonderful the material felt under the touch of her fingertips. Eyeing the jacket, she wondered how long it would be before all he managed to wear was the trousers because she would have taken over the silk jacket.
“What are you thinking, my heart? You were smiling and looking at my clothing. Are they incorrect to wear here like this?”
Sam’s smiled widened, as she replied; “Actually, I was wondering how soon I could talk you out of that jacket. I love the feel of it, and I was thinking how nice it would be if you were in, um, the trousers while I was in the jacket. So to answer the question, no, it is not inappropriate to wear here at all.”
“The jacket and nothing more, Samantha? Would you wear it only for us with none of your extra garments?” Martouf’s eyes glowed, but it was not from Lantash. The thought of a thoroughly naked Samantha in only the black silk jacket was enticing.
“Extra garments? Is that what you have decided to call them?”
“What else do you call them? They are extra, are they not?”
“Er, well, they have their own names, but, uh, extra garment is fine for now, unless you just really want to know.” She cocked head as she thought about it and abruptly said, “Underwear. It is a legitimate question, and since you are trying to pass as being from here, you need this kind of information. It is information that almost everyone would know. That being so…we call them underwear when we are not speaking of a specific article. They each have their own names, though. The top piece is a bra and the bottom piece is panties, underpants, or briefs. Then we can reduce that to types and call them by those names. That is if we want to be really specific, and tell someone exactly what we mean.” She shrugged before concluding the information with something guaranteed to confuse him. “We might say we bought a demi-cup push-up, with matching bikini briefs in blue or that we got a silk and lace camisole with matching low rise tap pants in purple. Is that enough information or would you like more?” Sam was quite serious in her question. He, they, did need commonly, widely known Earth information, and the sooner he began to learn it, the safer it would be for them and everyone else.
At the negative shake of his head, Sam leaned back and snuggled into Martouf’s arms, which wound their way around her. She could tell that Martouf and Lantash were talking, and it reminded her that she had wanted to explore the symbiote/host relationship they had and talk to them about it. In this case, thought was as action, and she asked him, “Martouf, what happens when you and Lantash have a disagreement? I mean, my dad and Selmak argue, and then will not speak to each other until they cool down. How do you two handle disagreements? Do you and Lantash argue much?”
“We have disagreements. Sometimes they are very serious, but, with the situation we are in, we must resolve our conflicts in a mutually acceptable way.”
“Sounds like something some marriages could use,” Sam said, thoughtfully. Seeing his puzzled expression, she shook her head, “Never mind,” she said.
“Lantash tends to sulk and refuses to talk to me. I, on the other hand, sometimes yell at him,” Martouf said, solemnly. Samantha watched as his eyes glowed, indicating that Lantash had probably taken exception to that speech. She giggled.
“That is not entirely true, Samantha. Martouf will often refuse to answer me. Furthermore, I will occasionally yell at him, although, for the most part, I believe that I tend to be less passionate than he is in our disagreements. I do not,” he stated, quite firmly, “sulk.”
Seeing Martouf once again take control, Sam’s giggling increased.
“That is not true; Lantash sulks, I do not. Moreover, he can be very passionate in our disagreements. We have both, on occasion, yelled, and refused to speak to one another.” Suddenly, he laughed with Sam. “It seems that, in reality, we have quite similar ways of dealing with our disagreements.”
“But, for the most part the two of you are happy together, and you don’t spend most of the time arguing. At least, I assume you don’t, and perhaps I should not assume that.”
Martouf looked thoughtful for a moment. “I do not believe we disagree often, but it does happen, just as most friends can disagree at times. I will not lie to you; we have had some very intense disagreements. We have moments when we both wish we could escape from one another, but they are rare, and we work through them.” His lips quirked, in a small half smile, “We really have no choice in the matter, so it is as well that we get along quite well, for the most part.”
Sam sat in thoughtful silence before she spoke, “It seems so random a chance that a person and a symbiote will meld well. I mean, what if the match is just a total mess? How do they stand it?”
“We have had that happen, Samantha. As you know, although there is a certain amount of risk involved, they can change hosts. When a symbiote and a host do not get along, then they can request a change. Oddly, it only happens rarely, and when it does we do everything we can to correct it. There are also times that the host simply cannot adjust to sharing their body, mind, and emotions, and at those times, we also do everything we can to find a new host for the symbiote.”
He lapsed into silence as if thinking, but shortly he continued. “It is not true that we cannot get away from one another. We do share memories and emotions; feelings of love are especially hard to control. However, the reality is that we both have a space within our minds to which we can retreat, and the other does not go there. I do not know how to explain what it is, or how it works, for the symbiote sets the place apart for both of us.”
“All I know is that each of us can keep some things to ourselves, away from the other. It is why I did not know very much of Kataya and Lantash. He had buried the memory in his private place. Unfortunately, although we can both do this, at times of great emotional upheaval, stress, or at the point where a symbiote dies and the host lives, those memories are often released. I believe that is why you retained Jolinar’s memories, and it is the reason that seeing Bastet again released the emotions connected to Kataya that Lantash had kept buried. I never saw her image, but I shared the emotions when he was remembering the,” here he paused for a moment, “the torture and subsequent loss he had when they had to part.”
“He kept the memories of their time together separate, at first, because it was still painful to remember the loss. Later, he simply left them tucked away, and there was no reason to bring it up. Coming into contact with Bastet’s forces changed that, and he could not continue to keep them locked away. They broke through, and it was extremely painful, for both of us,” Martouf explained quietly, remembering vividly the night and the emotions that had rolled through him, bringing him to his knees.
Taking his hand, she absent-mindedly stroked his fingers. She looked up at him, and said, “During the link with Kataya, I went through her joining with Siesha.” She sat quietly for a moment contemplating what she wanted to say to them. “You know that my joining with Jolinar was not pleasant. Had we had more time together, I think it would have improved. I truly believe that if we had time, we would have come to terms with one another. As it was left, though, all that remained were emotions and events that I could not understand, stop, or control.” Sam smiled sadly, and said wistfully, “I wish now that I had the chance to know her.”
Lantash took control, and said, “Samantha, it should not have happened the way it did. What Jolinar did was wrong, and the Tok’Ra all agree on that. We are all sorry you were treated so.” It was obvious that the thought of what his mate had done distressed him.
Sam shook her head at him, “I don’t blame her anymore, Lantash. She was trying to survive, to get back to you. I can’t fault her for that. I would do everything within my power to return to you, too. I hope I have shown that to you since you arrived. I wish I had been able to show you before, but we are together now, and I am no longer going to regret what I can’t change.”
"I have also thought of something else, since we realized how the Tok'Ra blend with a host. I was attempting to help the man breathe. Jolinar may have thought I was offering and did not realize until it was too late that I was not. I will never know for sure, but I like to think that was why she did it. As a consequence, I really believe it might have been. She was not able to communicate well with me at first because I was terrified, panicked, and by the time I calmed down enough to talk to her, the Ashrak found us."
Lantash sighed, closing his eyes for a moment, before saying, "You do not know how much that helps me, Samantha. I have always felt very upset over what she did. We do not take unwilling hosts. It also seemed so very out of character for Jolinar. She believed very deeply in what the Tok’Ra stand for, and it…it did not fit in with our knowledge of her. Thank you, Coeurawyn."
“I am truly sorry I never got to know Jolinar better, as I said. From the memories I have, I think she must have been a wonderful person,” Sam said, as she contemplated what she knew of Jolinar.
Lantash nodded, “She truly was a very special person, as was Rosha.” Looking at her thoughtfully, he said, “Samantha, you told us the first day when we were together that you would explain how you came to suddenly know that the emotions you had were yours and not Jolinar’s, but you have never explained.” Lantash looked at her with a question in his eyes, his curiosity very obvious.
“I didn’t, did I? I am sorry, and the explanation is simple really. Kataya blocked Jolinar’s emotions, so that all I could feel were my own. I could not experience hers even when I tried, so I was absolutely sure the minute you came through that what I felt was me, Sam Carter, not Jolinar. I have her emotions back now. Kat had to release them during the link, so that she could experience it. It no longer matters though, because I know my emotions and feelings,” Sam answered serenely, as she smiled at them, remembering the joy she had felt that day.
“I will have to remember to thank her,” he said, softly. Then he smiled wryly, and said, “I do not think I have ever been more shocked, or terrified, in my life, as I was in your room and bed that day, my mate. Rarely have I been so sure I would not survive something. We had dreamed of you being with us in that way for so many nights, and then, to suddenly have you behave in that way,” he paused for a moment, remembering. “I believe that my mind ceased to function for a short space of time.”
Sam watched as his lips quirked in another small self-derogatory smile. “When thought returned, I was so sure I could scare you away, and therefore, get you to stop the sensual torture you were putting us through, and instead it only seemed to spur you to greater liberties with our body. Both of us were very confused and unsure of what was happening. All we knew was that you were not acting as you usually did, and we feared it was some game you were playing. Thankfully, it was a game you wished us to join and never stop playing, and we have enjoyed that, my soon to be wife.”
Leaning forward, he captured her lips with his and pulled her firmly against his silk clad chest. When she moaned, he released her lips and began to feather kisses from the corner of her mouth to the crest of her cheek and from there down her throat. He felt her fingers splay across his chest and begin the kneading she sometimes did, as if she was a small cat. “Tell me, my mate,” he whispered, his voice husky, “should we keep the word obey in the marriage service? Would you love, honor and obey me, my soon-to-be wife?”
Sam’s eyes snapped open as his words penetrated the sensual haze in which she had been lost. She heard him chuckle deeply, and she pushed him firmly away. “I suppose you got that information from my dad. Trust him to encourage you to use an outdated marriage service. I don’t think it would be a good idea to include a vow I would only break, do you, my soon-to-be husband?” She asked sweetly.
Lantash laughed aloud. “No, my mate, I do not.”
Sobering he said, “It was a wonderful thing to have happen, Samantha. Martouf and I had been dreaming of nothing else, after we found out that we were to come with Jacob, and to have you greet us thus, it was as if our greatest fantasy had come true. You can have no idea of how long the nights can be, when falling asleep only leads to erotic dreams that wake you up frustrated and in pain with longing.” He paused, and then asked, “Where did you learn the stimulating movements you used on me?” That was another mystery he and Martouf had pondered.
Sam looked uncomfortable for a moment, and then she decided that the truth was the best way to deal with this. He might have guessed the answer anyway, so dodging the issue would not help. “The day before you came, Merdwin arrived with the information about Bastet. That evening, Kataya decided that we should know about her history with Bastet, since it would color many things that happened. That was right before she finally realized that I was the Dragon of the Star, which, I am sure you know, put a whole different spin on everything.”
Ducking her head and blushing slightly, she nonetheless forced herself to continue, saying, “Anyway, I realized, as she told us about her mate and Bastet, that not only had she had a symbiote herself, but she’d had a Tok’Ra for a lover, and that meant that she could answer all of my questions. The night that Daniel and I were, well, when we almost became lovers, I thought I was with you. I remembered wondering if you could feel it if I caressed Martouf’s body in certain places or ways. When I realized that she would know, I, uh,” Sam paused to clear her throat, and she looked up at him almost shyly, as she finally brought herself to tell him, “I asked her to teach me how to, um, pleasure a symbiote.” By the time she finished, she was whispering, wondering what he would think of her brazen actions. She didn’t have long to wait.
She watched as a bemused expression again stole over his face. It reminded her of the time Daniel had told her that if she would just lay a deep passionate kiss on Martouf, they would find him wandering the halls in a daze. He shook his head, and as the stunned look faded, he took her face in his hands. “You are the most amazing woman I have ever known. Not only do you ask Daniel for lessons in Goa’uld, you ask for sex education to be able to pleasure us. Samantha, I will never be able to tell you what everything you have done to assure our mating would be wonderful means to me, to us. Never. I have told you before, but I must repeat myself. I, we, are truly awed by you, our mate. You humble me. Thank you for being you and for loving us,” Lantash’s deep tones were huskier with the depth of the emotion she had engendered with her confession.
“Pleasuring you and loving you makes me happy, Lantash. Everything I have done has enhanced my own enjoyment. I hope I will always give you pleasure, both of you.”
As they looked at one another she saw an odd look come over his features, “What? What are you thinking?”
“I,” he paused, obviously listening, “that is, we, were wondering, but you do not have to answer, if you do not wish to, Samantha, but we are curious.” He paused obviously uncomfortable with what he wished to ask.
“Lantash, I am your mate, and you and Martouf can ask me anything you wish. If it is something I can answer, I will; if not, I will not. It is a very simple concept,” she said sincerely.
Lantash nodded, and finally said, “I have been mated before.”
“Yes, I know,” she said, beginning to understand where this might be heading.
“We were curious if you have ever been—mated—before? We know you have physically mated before, and we accept that as normal and natural, Samantha, we do not have a problem with that as some cultures do. We are asking if you have ever been joined before, in the manner of your world.”
“Ah. I see. I was engaged, betrothed, once, but it didn’t work out. He was not the kind of man I thought he was, so I called it off before we were married. Other than that, the only other serious thoughts I have given to it were with Daniel. We discussed it when we realized how we felt about each other, and if you and Kataya hadn’t been involved, then I probably would have ended up married to him. Are you asking for any particular reason, or just out of curiosity, to simply learn more about me?”
“Simple curiosity, Samantha. It occurred to us that there might have been others you loved enough to bond with, and we were curious. I am sorry if it makes you uncomfortable,” he said, with obvious honesty.
“No. No, it does not make me uncomfortable; in fact, it is the type of question that we should have the answers for about each other. I know you have had relationships, too, Lantash. What is more important to me than that you had the relationships is that you obviously cared enough to make them work. They were long-term and they were happy. It shows me that you will not leave at the first sign of a problem to be worked through.”
“You are correct and we would not. A joining is binding on us, and we would not abandon it lightly,” he said earnestly.
“I know you would not. You are proving that, aren’t you? Although you know they must be broken, your belief that your vows are binding is part of the reason you can’t yet bring yourself to revoke those you and Kataya made to one another. I do understand, you know, and I honor you for it, but I believe that in this case, it must be done.”
“I do agree, Samantha. I know, also, that they must be broken, and I will do so very soon, I promise you,” he said solemnly.
Nodding her head in agreement, she said, “I feel the same way about the vows we will make. If a problem comes up, we will just have to work it out, because for me, there will never be another that can truly take your place. You are my Soulmate,” she concluded simply.
Hesitating for a moment, she then told him, “I have a question now.”
“As you told me, I am your mate. You may ask me anything you wish, and I, too, will try to answer.” He indicated she should continue.
“All right, then, well,” she blushed slightly, “I know from what Kat explained that when Martouf is in control and I, um, pleasure you, he is excited by it, too. I guess my question is; does Martouf feel everything when you are in control as well?”
“We each feel everything the other feels, Samantha. No matter which of us has actual control, the other has the full pleasure of the mating. We love as one, Coeurawyn, both emotionally and physically.”
She nodded and then said, “I thought so, but I wanted to make sure I understood it correctly.”
“You do,” he stated simply.
Her curiosity satisfied, she leaned back in his arms and said, “I started to tell you something earlier, and we got distracted. Pleasantly so, true, but I want to discuss this as I think it is important. Is there anything else you wanted to know first?”
“No, my heart, that was all we wished to know. What is it that you wish to discuss, Samantha?”
“I realized when I experienced Kataya’s bond with Siesha how wonderful that relationship can be, and I want you to know that I believe that in time I will be blended. Not yet, of course, but someday.”
“I am glad, Samantha. I will look forward to that day. I understand that you do not wish to give up your position on your team. I have given this some thought, and I believe that I could possibly come to enjoy living here part of the time. On your world, that is. Perhaps the SGC would allow me to take part in some missions. Being Tok’Ra means that I need to be with them part of the time, of course, but I believe we should spend time together as often as possible. I also will do all I can to get you privacy when you come to the base. I understand how these things would make you hesitant to become Tok’Ra anytime soon.”
Sam looked at him for a moment, before she said, “Whether I was Tok’Ra or not, I would stay here with my team most of the time. Those things you mention are important, but they are not why I don’t want to blend yet.”
“I do not understand, Samantha. Is it that you still do not really believe you wish to be blended?” His confusion was obvious as he awaited her reply.
“No. I am pretty sure I want to blend, but I want to have our children before I am blended,” Sam said calmly.
Lantash seemed stunned, and Martouf did not move. “Lantash, Martouf, is something wrong? Don’t you want children?”
At last, he gasped for air, and Sam could tell that Martouf had assumed control again. “I gave up the thought of having children when I blended. I suppose I always assumed that any woman I had a relationship with would already be blended. I would love to be the father of your children, Samantha.”
“Lantash? What about you? Would it disturb you to have more children?” Sam wanted to hear from both of them on this subject. She watched as he came forward, but it seemed an eternity before he spoke. “Indeed, my heart, I would welcome your child. You are not? No, of course it would be too soon for you to know.” He shook his head, still seemingly overwhelmed. Would this woman always amaze him so? Somehow, he believed she would always take his breath away, and he knew then, that eternity would not be long enough to know her.
“No, I am not, and I will not allow that to happen before this mission,” she stated firmly. That was not going to happen when she was going into a battle of which the outcome was very much in question.
Lantash sighed, relieved, and he felt the same emotions course through Martouf. At least they would not have to worry about that during the mission. “I am glad, Samantha. As much as I would welcome our child, I would not wish you, or us, the added worry of you being with child during this battle.”
He added, obviously angry with himself, "I should have thought of this, as well, my love, and I am sorry I have not thought to protect you. I am unused to being with a woman who does not have a symbiote to see to it that no eggs ripen. I apologize for my neglect, and I will see to it that Martouf is safe for you from now on.”
"You have nothing to condemn yourself for Lantash; I have taken care of it. I am on birth control, but in case it wasn't working correctly, since I was blended with Jolinar, I asked Kat about it, and she checked me. She and Janet both agree that there is no problem, and neither is there any need for you to beat yourself up over it. Please don't worry about doing anything to Martouf because it is totally unnecessary."
Lantash nodded. "I understand, Samantha. Thank you for the reassurance and understanding. I will take no precautions now, but should the time ever come when you need for me to do so, please tell me at once, and I will undertake your protection immediately, I promise you."
Sam gazed at him with all the love her heart held for the two of them shining from within her eyes, and sent a thank you to the All for giving her such a wonderful pair of mates.
Then coming back to the conversation that she felt they should finish, she said, “I think the training I will be going through would be extremely difficult if I was carrying a child. My guess is that I might lose it; the training seems very, um, intense.”
“There is no need to try to shield me, Samantha. I am aware of what training to become Katteri-enti involves. I have a son and daughter who were in training with their mother before they left for Cadwaellon. I am very familiar with how very stringent and even dangerous it can be. I am glad you brought it up, my love; because I wished to ask you if you are sure you wish to go through with it. You do have a choice, Samantha. I do not think anyone would fault you for refusing,” Lantash said as he looked at her anxiously.
“I know I have a choice, Lantash, and this is the choice I made. I will be all right, please don’t worry,” Sam replied softly.
Gazing at him with pain in her eyes, she said to him, “Please. Please, try to understand. I know what she did to you, I felt what she did to you, to Dominic, to countless others. For them alone, she deserves to die. For what she did to you and him, she deserves to die by the Dragon’s fire, and I fully intend to see that she does so. I swear to you that she will die, and I will revel in her death, for only then will the pain in my heart that she has caused cease.”
As she continued to look into his eyes, he gave a strangled sound and leaned forward to catch her lips with his. How he loved this woman, her fire, her intelligence, her heart, and her soul. He could feel the love she gave to him as if it was alive, swirling around him, moving through him, wrapping him into its soft warm embrace. He needed to taste the honey that was her lips and feel the heat of her tight around him. He needed her, wanted her. She was his mate, his and Martouf’s alone, and just a look from her could set him on fire. He was burning up with need of her. He wanted both of their worlds to know and acknowledge that fact, to know with no doubts at all that this woman belonged to him. As their kiss ended, he rested his forehead against hers.
“When can we go through the Tau’ri ritual, Samantha? Soon? I need to have you mated to me in the eyes of your world and mine.”
“Daimesh is a holder of the rituals. That is a priest for our people who takes care of the ceremonial part of our rituals and rites. The Tok’Ra joining ceremony is neither difficult nor long, and I wish for our people to see you as our true mate throughout the Tok’Ra as well as the Tau’ri. You have the respect of the Tok’Ra now, as a Warrior, and as a person, for what you endured through Jolinar; yet you still had the courage to seek us. Then you offered to find a host for Selmak, and that host was your father. Now, I wish you to have the respect and honor of our mate, for you deserve no less. When will you marry us, Aima Coeurawyn? Tell me soon,” he moaned, as he took her lips again. “Say soon, Samantha,” he breathed against her neck.
“Soon. Very soon, Igisadonis Animawyn.” She gasped as his hand slipped between the buttons on her shirt. “I promise, very soon.”
“Do you wish to lie with me tonight, Coeurawyn? Do you wish to join with me once again in the world that is our passion?”
A moan and a passionate kiss were the only answer he received. Breaking the kiss and leaning forward, he turned out the softly glowing lamp so that only the moonlight played across her skin. It threw shadows that made her eyes mysterious pools in a face carved in delicate ivory.
Slowly, he unbuttoned the first button on her shirt and kissed the skin that opened to his view. With the second button, he did the same, her skin feeling as if it was made of silk to his lips and tongue, as he tasted her. Slowly, so slowly, so sensuously, he moved to the third button, and then the fourth and on, until there were no more buttons to be unfastened, and he gently nudged it off her shoulders and watched as it pooled around her where she sat. Slowly, he leaned back and looked at her in the moonlight that streamed through the window, captivated by the look of enchantment that transformed her face.
She had on one of the lacy extra garments that were such a puzzle to him, and he reached behind her to free her from it, but stopped as he looked at her again. Her breasts wished to spill from the garment, and he found the sight erotic in the extreme. It was as if they were awaiting release, so they could flow forward in freedom and abandon. However, he had to admit that the edge of the lace that barely covered her nipples, let alone the mounds themselves, was provocative in the extreme.
From the rapture in her face to the sensuality she exuded, she was a wonder to him. Such pure love and need was writ on her body that he felt himself become steel and begin to ache with desire. Forcing himself to go more slowly still, he continued his leisurely journey to bring to his delectation the secrets of her body, and to give to her the rapture she deserved.
Instead of releasing them into his hands, he leaned forward to run his tongue along the edge of the garment. As he lightly lapped at her skin, he heard her moan, and he smiled gently in delight at the newfound way to bring her need forward to wait for him, hungry and alive. Again, he bent his head to the tops of her breasts and nipped at her causing her to arch her back to bring herself closer to the source of the pleasure. He allowed his tongue to delve first between her breasts and then in search of the nipples so close to the tops of the lace covering. As he found his way to them, Samantha grasped his arms tightly and moaned softly, then whimpered his names.
The encouragement sent him to find her nipples through the lace and suck gently. As she jerked in his arms, he moved to feather kisses up and down her throat, across her jaw, and then onto her lips. The deep desire in her expression awed him once again.
Lips that tasted so very sweet; they were a honey he drank from again and again. She was a drug that kept him coming back time and again to indulge himself in the ecstasy she provided him. When he urged her to stand, she followed where he led, moaning his names repeatedly, as his lips teased hers. Finally, he reached behind her and expertly flipped the clasp on the extra garment, and loosening his hold on her, he watched as it fell to the floor.
Kneeling in front of her, he slowly worked the jeans down her legs, feathering kisses as he went his mouth open and his breath hot, exciting, and enticing. He removed the jeans and the bottom extra garment and, when they were on the floor, he stood and urged her to step forward. Watching her with eyes that glowed with the fire of desire, she heard him whisper, “You are an enchantress, and I am the enchanted; you are a witch, and I am the one you have bewitched. I delight in the spell your love has cast on me, for it is one that you have woven with soft silken threads, and I have no wish to leave it.”
As if in a trance, her eyes, heavy lidded with passion, never leaving his, she followed that which his hands urged her to do. When she stood naked before him, he stepped back from her, unfastened, and then removed the silk jacket that he wore. Slowly, he dressed her in the black silk and tied it snugly around her. It fell to just below her hips. He folded the sleeves up, and then pulled her gently into his arms.
Pulling in a shaky breath, he said, his voice hoarse with desire, “Samantha, you look much better in that than I do. I believe I like your idea of sharing it. Martouf is directing me to tell you how very beautiful we both find you. He is so very right, my Samantha; you are more beautiful to us than anything in this, or any other world.”
“And I find you to be the handsomest of men, truly the most wonderful beings in my universe. You have no idea how very exciting I find the two of you. I have never felt a fraction of what I have felt with you. I have never felt the wonder of being a part of a whole; it is as if I have finally been completed.” He watched as she slowly reached out and ran her fingers around the top of the black silk pants that he still wore. Finding what she was looking for, she began a slow sensual exploration of it, stroking him gently, but firmly as she watched the emotions flit across his face in the moonlight.
Leaning forward, she found one of his nipples and began languorously teasing it before moving to kiss her way across the muscles of his chest to the other one. Once there, she appeared mesmerized by it, laving him lazily, lingering over it with no apparent desire to leave it to explore farther. At the sound of Lantash moaning her name, almost harshly, she smiled slightly and began a languid circuit of the remainder of the chiseled sculpture that was his chest, feeling each muscle cord tightly under the sensual teasing of her tongue and lips.
She allowed her hands to take over the exploration of his naked chest and arms. She persisted in an agonizingly deliberate way, gently caressing every curve and muscle, as she followed the vee to the top of the black silk pants time and again. One hand reached behind him to caress his neck and back, and he shuddered as the feelings tore through him. As his breath quickened, he reached out a hand, and slipping it inside the silk jacket, he began gently caressing her nipple with his thumb. Standing thus, they watched each other’s faces as their hands explored each other’s bodies. They learned the story of each other’s passion; they delighted in reading the story over again, as if it was the first time.
Soon, Samantha began to tremble, and she managed to moan their names yet again. Leaning forward, she kissed his lips gently, and sighed her love for them. Reaching out he pulled her gently forward until she was high against his heart, and then he kissed her deeply, passionately. “Are you ready to come to me, my beautiful Samantha? My mate?” Martouf asked softly, as he took control, and they made their way easily into the bedroom and to the bed.
“Yes. Oh, yes.” She breathed into his ear as her tongue found a new place to play.
She felt him shiver as he laid her on the bed. Slowly, delighting in one another, they both discarded the black silk clothing, leaving it to lie beneath them as they continued to explore each other. This was what they had waited for, seemingly forever. Sam moved her exploration of his body ever lower until she found his shaft, rock hard and waiting for her touch. She loved the way he moaned every time her breath wafted across the head of his shaft. Then her tongue was flicking out, teasing him before her mouth could wait no longer for the taste of him, and she took him in to enjoy his flavor and pleasure him in the way she knew he loved so.
“Samantha, you drive all thought from me. Coeurawyn, I become a mass of seething need when you make love to me in this way,” he moaned to her, his voice almost suspended in his need. “I cannot seem to get enough of you. I feel as if I could make love to you forever, yet never get my fill of you. Enough, I cannot take more without spilling,” he stated hoarsely, as he sat up and pulled her mouth away from his body before he lost control.
Her eyes gleamed as she looked up at him from where he had placed her on her back. In the moonlight, he could see them start to sparkle as she reached for him again. She captured him and wrapped his manhood in the discarded black silk. As she began to stroke him with the silk, he gasped at the new sensation. “Samantha,” he groaned, his voice holding a warning of things to come, if she did not allow him some period free of stimulation. Her seductive laugh shot up his spine, and he decided that perhaps the only way to distract her from her purpose was to bring her to the same point herself. He just hoped he could control himself long enough to get her there.
Leaning over he took a breast into his mouth and began to play with the nipple, distracting both himself and her. One hand found its way to her breast, the other to the apex of her thighs. Finding the wet warmth, his fingers began the rhythm he had learned was the one that worked on her the fastest. His mouth left her breast, and she moaned a complaint as she arched her back looking for the heat of his mouth again. He trailed kisses and nips down her stomach and onto her abdomen, heading for that place his hands were working such magic on. He wanted, no needed, the taste of her. His fingers abandoned the nub as his mouth found it and began to suck lightly, using all his knowledge of her rhythms to draw gasping breaths from her.
She urged his leg over her and brought his body to her, using her mouth to pleasure him as he was pleasuring her. As they both became lost to the sensations, they entered the point of no return. Still shuddering from his climax, Martouf rolled to one side of her, but her mouth never left him. “Samantha, are you trying to kill me?” He moaned, and heard her laugh lightly in her throat.
“No, Amat Wyn,” she said, as she finally allowed him to leave her, even though she kept her hand wrapped around him, softly pressing and releasing, a slight, sensuous stimulation, but one he could not ignore. She lay on her side, her head pillowed on his thighs, and changed to stroking him gently, as she gazed at him. He propped his head on his hand and watched her, as she watched him. “Lantash didn’t come forward during our lovemaking, Martouf. Is he all right?”
His eyes flaring, Lantash came forward and reached out to caress her. “I am fine, Amat Wyn. I was simply being lazy and enjoying our encounter in a purely passive way. A benefit of being blended, actually, is that the one who is not actively participating, reaps a highly intense gratification by being able to concentrate fully on what they are feeling, without being distracted by what they are doing. It is selfish, perhaps, but extremely erotic nonetheless. And, I will return the favor for Martouf at some point, when I take full control and allow him the pleasure of enjoying the stimulus with no outside distractions.”
Sam looked thoughtful, before saying, “I never thought about it before, but I imagine it would be an intense experience. You can focus completely on what you are feeling, not being responsible for the other person’s enjoyment. Rather as if I would simply lie back and concentrate fully on what you and Martouf are doing to me.”
“Yes. Would you like me to make love to you in that way now, my Samantha? I would gladly do so. I actually find doing that very erotic as well. It is a sensual exploration of a different kind and very enjoyable. Once you blend, it will become a natural extension of your blended selves,” Lantash offered the information, as he reached out a hand toward her breast and began to caress her.
“No,” she smiled at him, “Not tonight. I believe we can leave that for some night when I wear you out and you need the rest to, ah, recover. You don’t appear to be having that problem tonight. In fact,” she said, as she looked down at the stiffness she was stroking, “I would say you are not anywhere near that point, tonight.” Casting him a look that seared him, she purred, “Come to me, Lantash. Give me your passion.”
Moving up to lie beside her he lowered his lips to hers as his hands began another session of study. His lips followed the curve of her jaw to her ear and from there to the softness of her throat. Soon, there were no sounds in the room, but their moans and sighs.
Inside the room, the flame of desire consumed the couple as they lay together and followed where it led. Outside the air cooled, the wind stirred the trees and the moon looked on with seeming disinterest.