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Ronon Dex ([personal profile] feltgoodthough) wrote2009-02-02 11:13 pm
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[For Elizabeth]

Ronon kept his eyes open on the island the same as any new planet even though he'd been her some time now. It wasn't like any other world he'd ever been too and not just because he couldn't leave.

It was his observation that had found him at the previously ignored bookcase in the compound. He'd just been passing through after walking up with Jennifer when she had a clinic shift. It had caught his eye because of something familar. A flash of a Satedan glyph. Investigating - snatching the thing off the shelf had revealed a book of Satedan war poems. One Ronon knew well - he'd drunkenly recited the entirety of one of the sagas after to equally drunken crowd after his first successful off world mission as a Specialist.

It was one of the books that he had brought to Atlantis when he had scavenged what was left of Sateda. He had not expected that the bookshelf - however strange it was would give him books from a dead world and even though he knew most of it by rote - he sat down to read it anyway.

[identity profile] atlantismother.livejournal.com 2009-02-03 09:38 am (UTC)(link)
Elizabeth knew well enough that Ronon was more intelligent than his rough exterior might project, and that he was quite capable of literacy when he chose. It was, however, still something of a surprise to find him reading in the Compound during perfectly good weather.

It was interesting enough to divert her course from the bookcase toward the couch. She offered a small, curious smile, once she found herself at a respectable proximity. "It's a pleasant surprise to see you this morning, Ronon."

It wasn't quite morning any longer, but on the island, the definition could be fairly loose.

[identity profile] feltgoodthough.livejournal.com 2009-02-04 01:02 am (UTC)(link)
Ronon hadn't been unaware of her presence - the book wasn't that distracting. "It has books in Satedan," he informed her looking up. He felt this statement in itself explained just why he had been found here of all places today.

Producing something in his native tongue might have been the first thing the island had done that he hadn't found irritating and grating since he had arrived.

[identity profile] atlantismother.livejournal.com 2009-02-04 04:37 am (UTC)(link)
She arched an eyebrow, glancing at the book in interest. She'd heard of such things being given by the bookcase, but it was no less remarkable for it. She wondered whether there were an English-Satedan guide somewhere in the bookcase, as well.

"What's it about?"

[identity profile] feltgoodthough.livejournal.com 2009-02-04 08:15 pm (UTC)(link)
Ronon scanned a familiar stanza before answering and cleared his throat, "it's poetry." He shut the book after a moment. "War poetry."

He saw her interest but didn't proffer the book unwilling to let it go now he had it. "Only one there was."

[identity profile] atlantismother.livejournal.com 2009-02-09 06:19 am (UTC)(link)
War poetry? It did stand to reason that every culture would have its own version of poetry, especially grand tales of heroics and battles. It also stood to reason that she would not have heard of it, with its rarity. However, it was still a surprise.

"Then the island's being very generous today." She offered a small smile. She was curious to see what the book might consist of, but she was not about to ask him to hand over a hard-to-find book to satisfy curiosity that she did not currently have the skills to sate. "Do you have any favorites?

[identity profile] feltgoodthough.livejournal.com 2009-02-10 11:46 pm (UTC)(link)
Ronon found himself agreeing, it was an odd generosity but generous all the same. Her question was easier. He found the page easily enough and extended it to show her for all that she couldn't read it.

"Yes." He paused. "It's a saga of a battle that happened before I was born." In a place few people remembered in a language even fewer could read. But Ronon could and that was the important part.
Edited 2009-02-10 23:47 (UTC)

[identity profile] atlantismother.livejournal.com 2009-02-14 01:54 pm (UTC)(link)
The symbols were indecipherable to her, but were nevertheless fascinating. She had always enjoyed dabbling in linguistics, even though she'd never had the time to master more than the few necessity had demanded. Perhaps that was a hobby the island would assist her in.

"How does it go?"

[identity profile] feltgoodthough.livejournal.com 2009-02-15 08:29 pm (UTC)(link)
Ronon looked at Weir, considered the last time he had recited poetry and decided he would have to be drunk again before he did that. He closed the book. "I can translate it," he offered gruffly.