Moonlight Mass

Moonlight Mass

Light.

Daniel Jackson felt incredibly light. Weightless, even. Even more so than when he had ascended. This most surely wasn't a good sign, but Daniel couldn't bring himself to care; he was much too busy looking at the multitude of tiny candle flames whirling and twirling around him. His mind, usually constantly in motion, cross-referencing this and analyzing that and searching for the meaning of whatever, suddenly felt at rest. It was as peaceful as it was eerie to have a head so... quiet.

For a brief moment of rationality, he looked around for Teal'C. Maybe he'd fallen asleep on the floor of his quarters again after a deep, rewarding meditation. But that thought faded almost as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by serenity and a strange urge to follow the slow movement of the lights that danced and flickered around him, like fireflies in a warm summer night sky.

He reached up from the flat slab of stone he was laying on but barely felt, trying to catch one of the lights. It never occured to him that he wasn't restrained, and that he should leave to find the other members of his team; he was entranced by the tiny yellow flames, as if he could read in them some old, fascinating language.

Daniel was still trying to read the meaning of life in the patterns the flames traced in the air as they danced when figures in long, hooded black robes entered the room through a door carved in the stone of the wall, chanting softly. The lights appeared to Daniel to be dancing to the slow, plaintive chants. He was so wrapped up in his contemplation that he didn't realized he wasn't alone anymore until the figures leaned over his supine body. Gasping in surprise and shock, he tried to scramble away, to no avail. His movements were sluggish and uncoordinated and he was surrounded anyway.

The hooded figures leaned closer, still chanting, and gestured for him to calm down. Some gently touched his arms and legs in soft, circular caresses, their hands warm through Daniel's clothes. Somewhat soothed, Daniel raised his head a bit to look at the hands on him. He could see fingers peeking from under the long black sleeves: they looked human, with pale skin and short nails.

His natural curiosity kicked in; he looked back up at the figures' hidden faces, opening his mouth to ask who they were, what he was doing here, and who was he anyway? But the only thing that made it passed his lips was a soft sigh: the words were escaping him, fluttering away like butterflies to go join the dancing flames in his foggy mind, always just barely out of his grasp.

Always gentle, the hands on his body kept stroking and massaging him reassuringly while the chanting continued, until Daniel felt like he could just ooze off the strange stone table he was laying on. As he lay there, watching a candelabra with the fascination he usually reserved for alien texts about cultural life of the natives of a planet, the skillful hands swiftly rid him of his clothes, caressing the newly bared flesh soothingly, as if saying with their smooth fingertips that no harm would come to him, that he was in good hands. For a second, Daniel frowned, feeling he should be annoyed to be undressed like this, but soon this thought was brushed away; without the barrier of his clothes, the multi-handed massage felt softer and warmer. He didn't want it to stop.

Some of the hands pulled away, and Daniel let out a little disappointed moan. He sucked in a breath soon after, as the missing hands were replaced by paintbrushes, painting his body with what looked and felt like warmed, thick black ink. The brushes glided over his sensitive skin, drawing curved lines wrapping around his torso, pointing towards his groin, circling the hollow of his throat, his nipples, his navel.

As the brushes slowly moved to decorate his arms and legs in the same fashion, the figures who weren't painting him gently blew on his torso to make the ink dry faster. Daniel chuckled a bit. "Tickles," he mumbled.

One of the figures tentatively tugged on his glasses; finding that he could take them off Daniel, he gently removed them and put them away, then painted Daniel's eyelids and lips black before reproducing the pattern of lines on his torso on his forehead and cheeks. When he was done, he fanned Daniel's face with his hand, then put his glasses back on his nose carefully when the ink was dry. Daniel blinked when his blurry vision cleared, then fixated on the candles again, trying to follow their strange pattern as he was easily turned over by the figures so they could paint his back and the back of his legs. Daniel just moaned, feeling slightly drowsy, but gasped when the brushes gently stroked between his parted legs, caressing for a moment then gone the next, replaced by soft breath.

When it was dry, he was turned over again. One of the figures gently held his penis as another painted the same pattern of gentle curves pointing downward on it with a much thinner brush. Daniel gasped again, louder, and the flames flickered before his eyes as he felt himself grow hard under the gentle, silky touches.

The figures didn't seem to be bothered by it; when the painter was done, the figure holding Daniel laid his member on his belly gently, allowing the painter to paint the underside. Daniel shivered. His skin was so sensitive he thought he could feel each individual hair of the brush.

Too soon though, the painter was done, and the exquisite sensation was gone; Daniel found himself missing it instantly. A black cloth was brought, and the figures lifted Daniel so it could be wrapped around his hips. It did little to conceal his semi-hard erection, but it was clothing, and in the back of his mind, Daniel felt grateful not to be naked anymore. They put him back down on the slab and slipped thin silver bracelets around his left ankle and wrist, then perfumed his skin lightly with a light oil smelling of rich spices the likes of which Daniel had never smelled before. All he knew is that they made him feel even warmer and lighter, like he could float away.

He couldn't really float, of course, so the figures carried him away to another room, a circular one, again lit by countless candles. Daniel grinned slightly when he saw the tiny flames around him; there were even more candles than in the previous room. He was delicately laid on a circular stone altar, around which was a large, circular ditch filled with water. Four stone bridges led to the altar, arranged in a cross pattern. The figures slowly stepped back as their chants grew in volume.

Daniel was still smiling dopily in the candlelight. He only realized someone was walking towards him because part of the candles were suddenly hidden by the figure's silhouette. Daniel looked at the man approaching, or rather at the glints on the very thin chain he wore around his waist, the elaborate necklace on his chest, and the blue jewel hanging on his forehead, held in place by a thin circlet. He was unable to really make out some details as the man stopped by the altar, where Daniel's feet were, outside of Daniel's clear field of vision.

The man raised his arms and threw his head back, joining in the chant, his voice deep. He then circled the altar three times, slowly, a hand hovering just above the stone. Daniel's gaze followed him. Unlike the other figures, he was wearing a cloak rather than a robe, and it was spread open, merely covering his arms and back, leaving the front of his bare body exposed. The cowl didn't hide much of the unruly pristine hair that framed his face and barely brushed his shoulders. He didn't return Daniel's curious gaze, focused as he was on the ritual. Stopping after his third turn, he raised his head again, hands over the altar, chanting louder.

Curious, Daniel raised his eyes to the ceiling. He was lying under a circular window in the ceiling, through which he could see a huge, bluish moon, perfectly centered in the window. Words flickered in his mind for a second, speaking of moons, goddesses and rituals, gone before he had a chance to focus on any of them.

The chanting grew again, long syllables stretching on and on as the white haired man slowly climbed on the altar, between Daniel's legs, spreading them gently so he could come closer. Oil slicked skin slipped against oil slicked skin as the man lay on top of Daniel gently, his cloak draped over their bodies, hiding them from the assembly's view. A tiny whimper escaped Daniel's throat as he suddenly frowned, but the man smiled reassuringly and stroked Daniel's cheek. Daniel's makeshift skirt was gently pushed to the side and the man entered him slowly, his hard member already oiled.

Daniel groaned a bit, his mind still very foggy. Not to the point of not understanding that an alien was being intimate with him without his clear consent again, but enough to not feel like making a fuss about it yet. The man slid into him fairly easily, slowly thrusting into Daniel, taking care not to hurt him. He had stopped chanting, but the assembly hadn't; the member’s voices were becoming louder and louder as the man's rhythm grew.

Daniel looked up at the man's face, looking at him curiously as he panted slightly. His slight annoyance of earlier had been washed away, veiled by the fog in his brain. All he felt now was wonder at the way beads of sweat slowly glided down the man's face, at how blue, almost glowing the eyes looking back at him were. He stared into those clear eyes for what seemed like forever, dimly aware of his prostate being massaged by the man's dick, of his orgasm building up in his groin.

He let out a soft moan and reached up to cup the man's face, then pulled him down to brush his lips against his. The man, however, turned his head at the last minute to avoid the kiss. Daniel's lips brushed against his cheek, then Daniel licked his lips. They tasted of rich spices. Daniel grinned and hungrily licked the man's cheek, wrapping his arms around the man's strong back. He moaned loudly when his climax crashed down on him in a swirl of moon and candlelight, vaguely hearing the chant reaching its peak around him. Then he lay back down on the altar, panting and licking the oil off his fingers.

Around him, the chanting dimmed as the figures each took a white jug, then filled the jugs with water from the ditch. They lined up to go to the altar; the first one in line took the white-haired man's cloak away, then poured the water in his jug over him and Daniel before leaving to allow the next in line to come forward. Daniel gasped at the contact of the cold water against his heated skin, but it did little to clear his mind. In fact, he was feeling drowsy now.

When the assembly was done drenching them, the man slowly stepped off the altar, then said a few words Daniel didn't understand before kissing each of Daniel's feet, then walking away. Daniel watched him leave with heavy eyelids, then, overcome by an irresistible urge to sleep, he dozed off, his head rolling back onto the altar. He didn't even stir when the assembly picked him up and carried him away.

********************
Light.

It jabbed him mercilessly in the eyelids when he regained consciousness, making him frown deeply. Opening an eye carefully, he immediately recognized the fluorescents of the infirmary. The infirmary? How did he get there? Last he remembered he was going off to use the bathroom-bushes after having shared dinner with the natives on PX2-838...

"Hey."

Daniel turned his head slightly and opened the other eye. Jack. Okay, infirmary bed, Jack at his side... but for once, no wounds or pain. Just the very unpleasant feeling that this black hole in his memory hid something that was seriously going to bite him in the ass somewhere down the line.

"Not dead this time either? Gettin' better, Daniel," Jack said, interrupting Daniel's line of thoughts.

"Whahappennnd..." Daniel muttered, rubbing his face, not too sure he wanted to know, but better learn now that in really uncomfortable circumstances.

Jack cocked his head to the side. "Well, if I were to guess, you saw something *absolutely* fascinating last night and decided to go check it out, thus making us search for you all night wondering where the hell you were at again."

Daniel rubbed his eyes, then looked for his glasses. "What do you mean..."

"I mean you managed to either ascend for a while again or get lost while on your way to the "bathroom"," Jack said as he handed him his glasses. "We found you at dawn sleeping in the grass like a baby."

"Oh..." Daniel said eloquently, putting his glasses on. He frowned again. "I... I don't... was I far?"

"About a click from the village."

Daniel pondered that what a minute. What? Why would he go so far, in pitch darkness, in the middle of the night, on an alien planet, just to use the bathroom? Even to him that made no sense, but his memory was a black blot from after the dinner until... well, right now. "... I was asleep?"

"Completely knocked out."

"... and?"

Jack shrugged. "And what? We found you and all your gear so we brought you back when you wouldn't wake up."

"I wouldn't wake up?"

"And you snored."

Daniel blinked. "I don't snore."

That made Jack snort. "Right. I'm gonna go grab the least toxic thing I can find at the comissionary, want some?"

"I've never been fond of plastic spoons."

Jack grinned. "Smartass. By the way, new cologne?"

Daniel looked at Jack as if he had just said he was a Unas. "What?"

Jack rubbed the side of his nose a bit. "Spices. I can smell you from here and I know it's not the grass we ate on PX2-838."

Perplexed, Daniel forgot to point out to Jack that it wasn't grass at all but an indigenous vegetable and smelled himself. "That much?"

"Oh yeah. Not that it smells *bad*... but it smells from *afar*," Jack said as he left, leaving Daniel even more confused than when he had awaken in the SGC's infirmary bed.