Tanith's Lament

Tanith's Lament


Title: Tanith’s Lament or The Seduction of Daniel Jackson
Author: Azura Malka
Summary: Everything’s in the title!
Rating: R
Pairing(s): Tanith/Daniel
Feedback: desired.
Characters: Tanith, Daniel, Shan’auc, Jack
Betas: /
Author’s notes: /
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything and I don’t make any money off of this story.

I know I am not like the other Goa'uld. Whether that is due to the unnerving influence of that bitch Shan'auc, or whether it has always been so, I cannot say, although I suspect the latter. My cousins, Ra and Apophis and Osiris and their ilk, like to rule through fear and pain. I have always preferred to rule by seduction. The results are less messy and generally just as good, with the added benefit that I don't have to kill so many slaves to make my point. Rather less wasteful all round. Of course, that's not to say I don't enjoy the sensation of power. I do. I have that much at least in common with my brethren.

My new host Hebron is perfect for me. Even before we joined, his mind was twisted and he took pleasure in deceiving people. Now that we are one we can work together, faking our innocence, honing our deception, beguiling our servants into slavery. And taking them into our bed, of course. Hebron is a handsome man - that much is clear to me when he regards himself in the mirror - and has a physical presence far beyond anything that silly child Shan'auc could achieve. He attracts people at will, and his slaves adore him as one.

All except one - the one that got away. Our first, and the loveliest of all. I know Hebron regrets him the most and I have to admit I agree with him.

It began last year, when the Tau'ri sent a team to Vorash to meet the Tok'ra. Some negotiations or other, plotting the downfall of my brothers as they always must, and it was the same interfering huddle that first brought me to Hebron: Colonel O'Neill and his sorry band. The Jaffa Teal'c was with them, and regarded me with that look in his eye that said I was slime beneath his boots. I still don't know how I restrained Hebron from killing him, from wrapping those beautiful hands round his throat and squeezing the life out of him, bit by bit. He could, you know. Now that we are one my host is very strong.

The meeting dragged on for hours. Usually the Tok'ra kept me out of their deliberations, still distrustful despite my efforts to allay their fears, but this time I was asked to join their talks. They believed they could use me, use my knowledge to defeat their enemy, even while they allowed their disdain to show. One day it will be the death of them.... This time, though, I did not mind - it gave me the leisure to watch the team. O'Neill himself, a comely human if a little old for Hebron's tastes; the female Carter, a woman in her prime, and last and most tempting of all, the fair young doctor, Daniel Jackson. He had that fey innocence that marks the perfect victim, and I felt Hebron's arousal as soon as it began. He wanted that young man, and he deserved some reward for being the perfect host. All I needed to do was exert myself.

We had plenty of time to study our sacrificial lamb, Hebron watching his body while I observed his mind, keen to find his weaknesses, the chinks in that impenetrable humour armour. And weaknesses there were. Oh yes. That endless thirst to drink from the fountain of knowledge, the search for enlightenment and his own self-completion: that would be his downfall.

I made my move that very night. Those Tok'ra fools have no doors so it was the work of a moment to slip into the chamber they'd assigned to him and shake him awake. He woke slowly, charmingly, dazed with sleep like a child.
"Uh, yes, what is it?"
I allowed Hebron to smile - a kind smile, a wise smile, to put the young man at ease - and to use his own voice. "I have something to show you. A manuscript, that Tanith knew was hidden here. It tells of many secrets, but the script is old and unfamiliar to me. Would you like to see it?"
The greed showed in his eyes. "I, er, yeah. Why not. But why are you telling me now? Couldn't it wait till morning?"
I shrugged. "I haven't told the other Tok'ra yet. I want it to be a surprise for them. I believe the book contains much information on the Goa'uld. If you can translate it for me I will give it to them. It may help to convince them that I am genuine in my wish to help."

It was as easy as that. He pushed aside the blanket - oh, how Hebron longed to touch the golden limbs revealed - pulled on some clothes, and followed to his doom.

There was a book - that much I'd made sure of. Silly to raise his suspicions so soon after he'd arrived.... He made straight for it, fingering the leather bindings, holding it a moment before he opened it, turning each page with reverence. If it hadn't been an inventory of vegetable crops I'd have been impressed. As it was he settled down, reading and frowning and pausing now and again to push his spectacles further up his nose. His delightful little nose, that Hebron wanted to kiss.

I drifted closer, put my hand on his shoulder, still unthreatening. "Would you like a drink of something? To help you stay awake?"
"Thank you. That would be nice," he said, lost in the riches of his studies.

Once again it was easy. So simple to add a little of my essence to the cup along with the fragrant Tok'ra wine, and carry it to him. He was still standing by my desk, hands on the surface on either side of the book, leaning over its pages with furrows on his brow. "Come," I said, indicating the couch. "Sit over here. You will be more comfortable and the light is better for reading."
"Er. Yeah. Maybe you're right." He barely noticed when I sat beside him, dipping the couch with my weight. "This is... it's.... Where did you say you got this?"
"The where is not important. What matters is what can be done with it. Do you think you can read it?"
"Bits of it. It's like a dialect of ancient Mayan, only the alphabet is different. It might take me a while to.... Oh my. Er... sorry, but is this wine all right? I feel kind of strange."
"Good," I said, and pounced. Pieces of clothing flew off as I allowed Hebron his head, and as I'd hoped Daniel began to respond. Partly to the drugged wine, of course, but partly to Hebron too. Few people are immune to his charms, I've found, and Daniel was no exception to that rule. His breath quickened, his kisses deepened, his hands moved to Hebron's hair and tangled in the strands, pulling him close. And Hebron responded with fire.

The coupling was everything I'd expected it to be. Hebron took Daniel, hard and fast, holding him to the couch and plundering that smooth young body until he shouted his exultation, whilst I fed on the pleasure coursing through his veins. And after, sated, we all three lay together, and I knew Daniel Jackson was mine. At the very moment my host climaxed I released my elixir into his blood, and through him into his mate. One drop would addict the boy for life; there was nothing he could do to resist.

I lay quiescent within my host, exulting. With a human slave to care for my needs I could devote more time to my plans, and he was just the first of many. If the ruse worked on him it would work on others - I could already see a steady stream of gorgeous young humans kneeling at my feet.... But for once I found I'd miscalculated, and missed something out of the equation. Or someone, to be precise.

Hearing footsteps I looked up to find a long lean figure propped in the doorway watching me, with a cool gaze that seemed to burn through to my very soul. If I have one, which I sometimes doubt. "Colonel O'Neill," I said, and my new slave stirred at my side, the fine pink of his cheeks turning to ash.
"Jack! I don't know how this.... I'm sorry."
"Daniel," he replied, inclining his head. "Get out of there. Now." The tone was level but imbued with authority; he brooked no disobedience. I have nothing against masterful men in principle but for him to give orders in my presence was too much.
"Oh, I don't think so," I said, allowing myself to be seen in Hebron's eyes. "He belongs to me now."
"Oh, I don't think so," he replied, and brought his hands out into the open. Hands that were wrapped in a meaningful way about the grips of a large Tau'ri automatic rifle. And of course I'd removed my own weapon so as not to alarm Daniel....
I raised my hands, palms outward to show I was unarmed. "Can we at least discuss this?"
He remained unmoved. "I'm not the chatty type."
"Very well. But it may not be as easy as you think to take him back."
"Why? What have you done to him, you snake-headed spawn of the devil?"
Daniel's horrified "Jack, no," coincided with my own reply. "You should be careful. You may have the weapon for now but I am far stronger than you could ever imagine. I have done nothing to him that he did not want. But he has tasted my pleasure now and that will be a hard habit for him to break."
"Oh yeah? And what makes you think yours is the only pleasure he's 'tasted'? Or even the best? Daniel, I won't say it again. Get out of there and get your things packed up. We're leaving as soon as you're ready." His cool soldier's eyes never left the figure by my side, and I felt the unwelcome movement as Daniel flung back the sheets.
"Stay with me," I said, using every last ounce of power and persuasion at my grasp. "I can bring you great knowledge, tell you many secrets about the Goa'uld...."
He never even wavered. "Go back to hell where you belong." Gathering his clothes and his dignity he brushed past the figure in the doorway with barely a backward glance, and O'Neill and I were left alone.
"You will regret this," I said. "The drug is in his system now. He will not be able to control it."
He drew himself to his full impressive height and levelled the gun at Hebron's chest. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. He'll be okay as long as you keep your perverted little claws off of him. The only reason I haven't killed you is because the Tok'ra asked me not to. You're too damn useful to them. Otherwise I'd be tearing you a new asshole - in both your miserable hides. And if you get within five feet of Daniel, ever, I might still do just that." And with a final glare he stalked off.

The Tau'ri did indeed leave within the hour. The Tok'ra were forced to travel to Earth to complete the talks, and were not best pleased about it, but O'Neill was adamant. And once again I was left out, and had no chance to repeat my experiment.

They must have found some way to counter my essence; or perhaps Daniel was stronger than he looked; or O'Neill's brand of pleasure was indeed more powerful than my own, unlikely as that seems. Whatever the reason, he never came back and we never saw him again. Soon afterwards the Tok'ra made their move against me and I fled, skipping from planet to planet, always one step ahead of them and of my brethren the System Lords. In the midst of my flight I found time to set up court, and chose and trained attendants to take Daniel's place. Since then there have been many and all of them willing and desirable. But no matter how many come and go from my bed, I still regret that golden, missed opportunity. It's still Daniel Jackson that Hebron and I miss the most.