A WORK OF STARGÅTE SG-1 FAN-FICTION—by Van ©2010
		Chapter 13

While Markie fluttered back to camp for the coils of cord her Queen had requested, Sam pondered the technical aspects of tying up a fairy.  The wings were the problem.  She didn't want the Lightling to regain consciousness and simply flutter away.  She could keep her prisoner tethered to something solid, and probably would, once she got her back to camp.  However, it was far better to deprive her of the power of flight altogether.

First things first.  Sam set about stripping her captive.  She had no prurient interest in the Janet-fairy, but at the moment, Sam and Hailey were strapped for supplies, to say the least.  Anything the Lightling was wearing or carrying would probably be of value.  The fey's rope body-harness and bundle of supplies were removed, and then her silk bandeau and loincloth.  The roughly four meters of "rope" were actually brown, nylon parachute thread that had almost certainly been fairy-filched from the SGC stores.  Sam noted that both ends had been carefully melted and fused, to prevent unraveling.  The cloth that comprised the fairy's equipment bundle was a meter-square swath of sage-green, rayon-cotton blend fabric, probably cut from an SGC Bigling's underwear.  Again, the hems were all expertly heat-sealed.  The bundle had contained only three things, a handful of berries and nuts wrapped in a green leaf, a half-empty water skin, and real treasure, in the form of a knife!

Granted, it was nothing more than a length of steel flat-stock tapered to a point, honed sharp along one edge, and with a hilt of tightly wrapped thread, but it was a real knife!  It was well-balanced in Sam's hand, with a nice heft, a good grip, and a keen edge.  It may have been case-hardened, it was difficult to tell.  In any case, it was a good weapon, and infinitely more useful a tool than a knapped chunk of obsidian or flint.  As an added bonus, there was a sleeve-like sheath of brown leather.  Sam set the knife and sheath aside and returned to the task at hand.

She rolled the Janet-fairy onto her stomach and carefully folded her wings into their natural resting position, flat and together against the fairy's back and rump.  She then took up the rope and began tying a harness around the fey's upper body.  This time, rather than a means of securing the fairy's equipment, the harness pinned her upper arms against her sides and trapped her wings.  Sam anchored the harness with a loop under the wing-root, under her right armpit, behind her neck, and then back under her left armpit.  Additional loops were hitched around the captive's arms and torso, framing her breasts, and around her waist and the middle of her wings.  None of the bands were especially tight, but Sam took hitches between the fairy's wings and back and her arms and torso, so none of the strands would shift when the prisoner regained consciousness and tried to free herself.

By this time, Markie had returned with the three coils of cord.  Sam folded the prisoner's arms behind her back and over her wings, and used the first coil to lash her wrists together and bind them to the harness.  She tied the final knot at the nape of the fey's neck, well out of the reach of her fingers.  The other two coils were used to bind the Lightling's ankles and knees.

Markie watched this process with something like confused wonder.  Apparently, this was a world-changing event.  The Queen was binding a Janet!

Sam picked up the prisoner's former loincloth.  It was quite long and had been folded once, lengthwise.  She unfolded it completely, found the center of the shortest side, made a cut with the knife, then ripped it into two long halves.  She tossed one to Markie, then began wrapping the other around her waist and through her loins.  "Get dressed," she ordered.

"Yes, my Queen," Markie responded.  She carefully mimicked Sam's technique, and was soon wearing a skimpy but adequate loincloth of her own, the blond fairy's first ever clothing.

The bandeau was similarly unfolded and ripped in two, and Sam and Markie donned them, as well.  The resulting matching ensembles were revealing, to say the least.  Prominent pokies and not so subtle camel-toes were on display, but the narrow silk bands were a definite improvement over total nudity, or so Sam kept telling herself.

Finally, Sam decided a precautionary gag was in order.  She retrieved the length of cord that had been used to secured the leaf wrapping of the Lightling's food supply, then found a hand-length, straight stick of driftwood on the beach.  She cut the cord in half, tied a length around each end of the stick, then thrust the resulting bit between the captive fey's teeth and tied the ends together under her auburn hair, at the nape of her neck.

"Now," Sam said, as she sheathed the knife and took it in her left hand, "back to camp."  She lifted the prisoner onto her right shoulder, stomach down and head to the rear, in a fireman's carry.

"Yes, my Queen," Markie said, as she wrapped the silk bundle around the store of food and the water skin, then retrieved the Queen's fishing spear and the Lightling's quarterstaff.

They set off down the lake shore with Sam and the captive in the lead and Markie two steps behind.

They were more than halfway back to the cave before Sam felt the Janet-fairy start to regain consciousness.  The captive gave a tentative struggle, then went limp.  Sam noticed the fairy's fingers groping for any rope and cord that might be within reach, and used the sheathed knife in her left hand to give the fey's naked rump a warning tap.  "Stop it!" she ordered, and the fey fingers stopped moving.

They arrived at the cave and Sam carried her naked burden to the back, heaved her off her shoulder, and deposited her in a sitting position with her rump on the sand and her shoulders against the cave wall.  The prisoner grimaced when her weight settled and Sam heard Markie gasp.

Sam turned to find the Hailey-fey staring at the prisoner with a worried expression.  "What?" Sam demanded.

Markie blinked, then focused on Sam.  "Nothing, my Queen."

Sam looked at the Janet-fairy and found her smiling back, above her gag.  She returned her gaze to Markie.  "Tell me," she demanded.

"T-the way you've tied her, my Queen... it's hurting her wings."

"What?"

Markie's eyes popped wide.  "I-I'm sorry, my Queen!" she gasped.  "I didn't mean to—"

"She's in pain?" Sam demanded.  "Why didn't you tell me?"

The little blond fey's eyes were wet and her chin was trembling.  "I-I'm sorry, my Queen."

Sam pulled Markie into a gentle embrace and kissed her quivering lips.  "Why didn't you tell me?" she repeated in a whisper.

"I... I thought you were being Dark, my Queen," Markie whispered back. "I thought you were just being mean... like a Darkling."

Sam smiled and kissed Markie, again.  "I'd never hurt anybody, Markie," she said, quietly.  "Except in self-defense, if they attacked me or you and I had no choice.  Do you understand?"

Markie nodded, gravely.  Then, her smile returned and she hugged Sam close.  "My Queen," she sighed.

Sam noted the Janet-fairy had watched this exchange with the same bit-gagged smile, and her own smile faded.  "What, exactly, is causing her pain?" she asked Markie.

"Her arms, my Queen," Markie responded.  "The way you have them tied over her wings.  It makes the wings flex and pull at the wing-roots and... it hurts."

"Well," Sam huffed, "we'll just have to try something else.  Come and help me."  She released her embrace, walked to the captive, and knelt at her left side.  "Grab her hair."

"Uh, yes, my Queen," Markie said, knelt on the Lightling's right side and took a generous handful of the prisoner's auburn locks.  Her pixie features set in a fierce scowl, she shook her free index finger in the Janet-fey's still smiling face.  "Don't you try anything!" she warned.  "You're the Queen's prisoner!"

Sam just managed not to laugh, although the prisoner in question remained quite clearly amused.  Markie the Terrible-Fairy-Warrior was so cute.  Sam bent the Lightling forward at the waist and untied her wrists.  She then grabbed the quarterstaff, pulled it over, and tucked it under the captive's bent knees.  Next, she pulled the Janet-fey's arms under the staff, crossed her wrists over her shins, and bound them together and to her already bound ankles.  She then untied the rope harness and coiled the rope.  "She's going to find it a little awkward to fly away while tied like that, not before one of us can grab her.  Don't you think?"

"Yes, my Queen," Markie agreed.

Sam tied one end of the rope around the Janet-fairy's throat, then sat cross-legged in the sand with the other end in her right hand.  "Untie her gag," she ordered.

Markie did so, and the Janet-fey licked her lips and worked her jaw.  "Thank you," she said.

Sam ignored the nicety.  "When do the others get here?" she demanded.

The Janet-fey smiled.  "The others?"

"Don't be coy," Sam snarled, fixing the Lightling with an even stare.  "You're obviously a scout.  When do the others get here?"

"Answer the Queen!" Markie growled, her hand gripping the captive's hair, again.  "Or... or else!"

The Janet-fairy shifted her smile to Markie.  "Only in self-defense, remember?"

Markie's fierce scowl faded.  "Oh, you heard."  She sighed and released her hold.  "You should still answer, 'cause... she's the Queen."

"That she is," the Lightling agreed, then shifted her dimpled smile back to Sam.

Sam stared at the grinning prisoner.  There was something different about this one.  She wasn't behaving like the others.  She couldn't put her finger on exactly what was different, but there was a difference.  "Just tell me," she continued.  "How long 'til they get here and the battle begins?"

"Sorry," the Janet chuckled.  "There are no others, so there will be no battle." she flexed her shoulders and squirmed her butt in the sand.  "I'm not a scout, I'm a rescue force of one."

"Right," Sam scoffed.

"I guess I need to tell the entire story," the prisoner said.

"Oh, good!" Markie said, moving over and sitting cross-legged, beside her Queen.  "I love stories!"  Her smile faded.  "Except when the Darklings tell them.  Those can be scary."

The captive smiled, then focused on Sam.  "Anyway, remember back at the SGC, in the storeroom, with the blue Jell-O?"

Sam favored the Janet-fairy with a grim stare.  "Vaguely," she muttered.

"Now who's being coy," the prisoner giggled.  "Anyway, Teal'c broke down the door, I got zapped with a zat, and—"

The "man cage", as O'Neill had christened their accommodations, was never touched by direct sunlight, but they could see shafts of light overhead, lancing across the dome.  They changed angle as the day progressed, and together with the general level of illumination, were the only way for the male members of SG-1 and SG-3 to keep track of time.  That, and the regular appearance of meals, brought three times a day by the Hailey-fairies.  At night, dim, star-like lights shone down from the dome, far overhead.

Amenities had begun to appear.  Late in the first day, a small section of the stone floor in one corner of the cage dropped from view, and before they could do more than gather around to watch, what was clearly a simple toilet rose from the depths to take its place.  It was made from the same stone as the floor, and had the sculpted seat and bowl of a traditional crapper, complete with a central hole that disappeared into Stygian darkness.  However, it appeared to be completely dry, with no means to flush away any waste deposited within.

"Uh, I volunteer to test this thing with a number one," O'Neill announced.  "My back teeth are floatin'."

The others politely turned their backs and ignored the sound of their CO relieving himself.

"It's frictionless," O'Neill said, and the other turned back.

"Yes, it still looks completely dry," Daniel agreed, staring into the bowl.

Just then, there was another scraping noise and a section of floor in the opposite corner dropped from view.

The prisoners hurried over and watched what amounted to a drinking fountain rise to take its place.  It was about the size of the toilet, but its pedestal was twice as high, and its bowl was shallow and full of clear water being constantly replaced by a jetting stream.

"All the comforts of home," Warren stated.

About an hour later, Hailey-fairies appeared with bundles, one for each prisoner.  They unrolled into rectangular sleeping pallets.

"Thank you!" O'Neill called after the giggling fairies, but again, as always, they departed without saying a word.

"Ya know," Daniel sighed, "when we get captured by the Goa'uld, they have the common courtesy to waltz in now and then and gloat and make dire threats."

"Yeah," O'Neill agreed.  "I miss that.  It breaks the monotony and helps me hone my snappy comeback skills."

Teal'c giggled.  He was still a little inebriated by the phase shift.

O'Neill frowned.  A giggling Teal'c was... disconcerting.

Breakfast appeared the next morning in the form of "mystery meat and mixed vegetables stew", followed by lunch (more of the same).   And then, about an hour after lunch, a single Hailey-fey appeared with a flat, square object.  She slid the roughly 24-by-24-by-four-inch thing between the bars and into O'Neill's hands, then fluttered away.

"Thanks!" O'Neill called after her, and began examining the gift.  One square surface was divided into an eight-by-eight grid of alternating ivory and ebony squares, and the whole thing rattled when O'Neill gave it a gentle shake.  He pressed a recessed bar on one edge and the checkerboard side opened to reveal rows of sculpted figures in closely fitted compartments.

"It's a chess set!" Daniel gasped.

"No, ya think?" O'Neill muttered.

Daniel picked up one of the pieces and turned it in his hand.  "It's very similar to the Lewis Isle or Uig sets," he noted.

Teal'c giggled.  "Uig!" he said, and giggled, again.

"It's beautiful," Warren said, picking up another of the pieces.  They appeared to be carved from stone.  Half were a deep, blood-red with granite-like flakes, and the other half were ivory-white with subtle, random veins of rust and gray.

"So..." O'Neill said.  "Who plays chess?"

All raised their hands but Teal'c and Penhall.

"Okay," O'Neill continued.  "You guys watch while I trounce Daniel.  We'll explain the rules as we go."

"And what makes you think I'm not going to trounce you?" Daniel asked.

O'Neill grinned.  "Maybe you will, and maybe I'll surprise you."  He set the board on the floor in the center of the cage and began pulling all the pieces from their compartments.  "Anyhow... we'll hold a tournament."

Laura Cadman stomped down the passageway.  Well, she pattered in a deliberate manner.  It's hard to stomp in your bare feet, especially on a stone floor.  Also, she was naked and bound and gagged and her ankles were hobbled with rope, additional impediments to conventional "stomping".  But she was pissed off, that was for sure!

She'd charged through the stargate, ready for action—and instantly found herself naked and bound and gagged!  It wasn't like being zapped with a zat and waking up on the floor.  She'd experienced that as part of her SGC training.  She charged through the gate—she was in transit through the wormhole—she was naked and bound and gagged!

Oh-by-the-way... a couple of dozen Janet-fairies of the tan-skinned, auburn-haired, brown-eyed variety—what the mission briefing had called "Lightlings"—were running their hands over her body and kissing her and being really friendly!  And then they got even friendlier!  And it went on and on!  And she was untied, retied in a spread-eagle, and the Sisterhood-of-the-Traveling-Tongues went back to being friendly!

And then, hours later, the black-haired, pale-skinned, violet-eyed fairies (the "Darklings") showed up, and she was swapped for Doctor Keller.  At least she thought she was swapped for Keller.  She was more-or-less lost in a post-orgiastic daze at the time.  Anyway, the Darklings had also been friendly—in a rather mean-spirited, illegal-in-50-states, sorority hazing kind of way.  Granted, they'd fed her... and spaced things out to let her get a little rest...  but she did not appreciate being tied up and having her rump paddled and her tits swatted with tiny little whips and having fairy tongues, lips, and fingers licking, sucking, and fondling her most sensitive anatomy for hours on end, and... all the rest of the things they'd done to her!

Then, still bound and gagged, she'd been roused from her sleep, rolled in a net, and transported out of the giant complex of giant rooms they'd been holding her in 'til now.  Dangling from ropes under a dozen fluttering fairies, she was carried through picturesque woodlands that sort of reminded her of a Northern California coastal forest.  They passed a giant, ring-shaped arch—and with a gagged gasp she realized it was a stargate!  Only then did she understand that she had been "fairy-zapped", as Colonel O'Neill had put it, and reduced to the size of her fairy captors.

Cadman mentally kicked herself for not realizing or at least suspecting this earlier, but then... she'd been a little busy being run through the Kamasutra (Kinky Fairy Edition) by her hosts.

The journey continued... and eventually, they approached a mountain-sized jumble of craggy boulders and tilting rock faces and zoomed through a large cave entrance in its side.

And now—her wrists crossed behind her back and tied to her waist, her ankles hobbled, a rag stuffed in her mouth with a cleave-gag holding it in place, and a rope leash around her neck—she was being herded down a dark, narrow, fairy-sized tunnel by a half-dozen Darklings, all armed with black wooden staffs.  The tips of their staffs all glowed with a blue-white light, sort of like Gandalf's staff in the Mines of Moria.  The walls and ceiling were rough-hewn stone.  The floor was also rough, but not very.  She could stumble along at the end of her leash without hurting her feet.

They came to a large, circular chamber, about twenty meters across and with a ten-meter ceiling.  At the far end was a rough, door-sized opening.  A row of vertical iron bars as thick as her wrist and spaced about six-inches apart blocked access to whatever lay beyond.  The lead Darkling tapped the butt of her staff on the stone floor three times, and three of her Sisters trooped to one side, leaned their staffs against the rock wall, and began turning a large, spoked, iron wheel mounted on the chamber wall about three meters from the barred entrance.  There was a dry, scraping noise, and half the bars began slowly sinking into the floor, and half began rising into the ceiling of the threshold.  The fairies continued turning the wheel... and eventually the way was clear.

Cadman was led through the door and found herself in a triangular cave, perhaps fifteen meters on a side.  The doorway was at one apex, a flickering flame burning in a shallow stone basin was to her right, and to her left, a continuous stream of water fell from a fist-sized hole in the ceiling and into a similar basin.

She was marched to the back wall.  Equidistant from the flame and the water was a heap of loose straw.  Above it, an iron ring had been hammered into the stone, and dangling from it was a long chain of dark iron links.  One of the fairies reached into the straw and produced an iron collar, also attached to the chain.

"Nrrf!" Cadman growled through her gag as the collar approached her throat, but with her fey captors holding her arms and hair and one of them standing on her hobble, she could do nothing to prevent the two, semi-circular bands of the collar from closing around her neck.  It locked with an authoritative click.

Casman continued squirming and mewling through her gag as her rope bonds were untied.  Her captors continued holding her arms and hair.  Her gag was untied and the stuffing pulled from her mouth, and most of the fairies immediately stepped back through the doorway.

"Ahh!"  Cadman licked her lips and tugged on the collar.  "Goddammit!  Get me out of this thing!"  Fire in her eyes, she turned to face her captors.

All but two of the Darklings had already made their exit, and they were standing in the threshold, watching Cadman tug on her collar and chain.

Her left hand holding the chain, Cadman stomped towards the door, her right hand closed in a tight fist.  "Get this thing off my neck!" she screamed.  "Arrh!"  A meter from the grinning Janet-fairies, she reached the end of the chain.  "Goddamn you!"  She lunged forward, trying to grab one of the gloating fey, but they were just beyond her reach.  "Let me go!"

"The Felger-trolls did a magnificent job creating this chamber," one of the Darklings remarked.

"Yes," the other agreed.  "The stone drilling torches created by the Temple are quite efficient."

Cadman continued to curse and pull on her chain.

"It was a good idea to make the creation of the Queen's Punishment Cell our first priority," a fairy said, "and to use the Cadman to test it."

"Yes," the nodded.  "The natural caverns are comfortable enough, for now.  We have infinite time to embellish the labyrinths, reroute the springs and air channels, and prepare our defenses—but we could recapture the Queen at any time.  Who knows when the Great Hunt may resume?"

"Yes, who knows?" the other agreed.

"Come over here and I'll pound you to a pulp!" Cadman screamed, still tugging on her chain.

"How very rude," a fairy giggled, "and after we were so nice to her back at the Temple."

The other fairy also giggled.  "I think rude redheads don't deserve any supper, don't you?"

"And maybe not any breakfast."

Both fairies' smiles turned evil, their violet eyes flashing in the flickering light from the flaming basin.

"She is magnificent," one remarked.  "See how her breasts bob and shake."

"I like her svelte body."

"Yes, and that peachy-pink complexion.  Beautiful."

"I'll give you beautiful!" Cadman screamed, pulling on her chain with both hands.  "Aaaaaargh!"

"And that tight butt."

"Like two ripe, pink berries."

Cadman stopped pulling on the chain and scowled at the gloating fey, both hands in tight fists at her sides.  "Let me go!"

"I hear they've discovered giant spiders in some of the deeper passages," a fairy said as she turned and left the cell.

"Dangerous?" the other asked, following her Sister into the outer chamber.

"Perhaps," the other fairy's voice echoed back, "but perhaps we can tame them and use their silk to make rope."

The scraping noise resumed and the bars rose and lowered to seal the unreachable door of the cell.

"Get back in here!" Cadman screamed.  "Get back in here and let me go now!"  Her voice echoed off the stone walls, without answer.  "Let me go," she repeated, this time in a conversational tone.  The glimmer of the fairy staffs was fading... and continued to fade... and then was gone.

Cadman crossed her arms and stared at the dark, barred doorway.  The air was a little cold.  She turned and dragged her chain to the falling stream of water, cupped her hands, and drank.  The water was ice cold.  Shivering, she dragged her chain towards the fire.  There was no apparent fuel feeding the flames.  They simply appeared from the midst of a heap of glowing rocks... rocks that radiated a welcome heat as well as light.

The iron collar was heavy, but it wasn't especially rough against her skin.  She'd get used to it.  She hoped her fairy captors had been kidding about making her miss the next meal or two, but it wouldn't be the first time she'd found herself on short rations in the field.

She dragged her chain back to the straw and sat down.  Her body was a little cold on the water side and a tad warm on the fire side, but she'd survive.  She considered feeling sorry for herself and maybe having a good cry... but instead, she sighed, settled down in the straw, and curled up on her side, letting the fire warm her back.

Marines don't cry.

"You have got to be kidding," Sam huffed.  The Janet-fairy—who claimed to be what amounted to a resurrected, faithful copy of the Janet-Fraiser (not counting the fey details)—had reached the end of her story and was smiling at her captor... with Janet Fraiser's dimpled, incredibly cute smile.

"It's all true," Janet said, her smile never wavering.

"Right," Sam said, staring at the bound captive.

Markie was also smiling.  "My favorite part is when I bring you pretty clothes to wear."  She noticed Sam's frown.  "The Bigling me, I mean.  The Hailey."

Sam couldn't help but smile.  In many ways, Markie was still a child.  She focused on her prisoner.  "Okay, you're Janet Fraiser."  Her voice dripped sarcasm.  "Tell me about the time Nirrti saved Cassandra."

Janet's smile faded. "I can't, not really."

"Hah!" Sam huffed.

"No, it was after Anise recorded my cephalic engrams," Janet noted.  "I think what you're referring to happened after that."

"So how do you remember it at all?" Sam demanded.

Janet shrugged.  "Maybe the Machine of Life read echoes from my later life in your mind and transferred them to me."

"Through the stargate?" Sam scoffed.

"The crystals in your prototype machine," Janet suggested.  "Maybe they acted as a conduit... somehow.  Anyway... I remember Cassie being sick, and cake... a cake you baked, Sam... and then Cassie was okay." She shrugged, again.  "They're not real memories, more like flashes... impressions."

"How very convenient," Sam muttered.

"I'm here to rescue you," Janet said, "to take you back to the others.  Then, through the stargate, and home."

"And why should I believe that?" Sam huffed.

"Because... I love you," Janet said.

"What?" Sam demanded.

"Really, I love you, Sam," Janet said.  "I couldn't tell you before, but I'm not going to make that mistake again."

"You love me?" Sam mumbled, a blush coloring her cheeks.

Janet nodded.

"We all love the Queen," Markie noted, nodding her head.

Janet's eyes welled.  "This is all my fault.  You're here, the Machine made all this happen... and it's because I love you."

Sam stared at the fairy in wonder.  That's what was different.  She really was Janet Fraiser.

"She's a Janet, my Queen," Markie said, gravely.  "She wouldn't lie," the wide-eyed fairy added, as if stating a fundamental truth.

Sam opened her mouth to answer—when suddenly Goldeneye swooped down and perched on the boulder opposite the cave entrance.  "Uh-oh," Sam muttered.

"WHAT IS THAT DOING HERE!" the dragon roared.

Sam and Markie clapped their hands over their ears.  Unfortunately, with her wrists bound to her ankles, all Janet could do was grimace.

"Leave us alone!" Sam shouted as she scrambled to her feet, dropped the end of Janet's leash, and picked up her spear.

"ONE FAIRY IS ENOUGH!" Goldeneye roared.  She lunged forwards and reached into the cave, stretching her clawed hand towards Janet.

"No!" Sam shouted, stabbing at the dragon's scaly wrist.  Markie had grabbed the fishing spear and was whacking the dragon's arm with all her strength.  They might as well have been trying to stab and pummel a main battle tank.

The dragon's talons closed around Janet and the reptilian arm withdrew from the cave.

"Let her go!" Sam screamed.

Janet, on the other hand, just screamed.  "Ahhhhhhh!"

"Bad dragon!" Markie shouted.  Her eyes were welling and she was clearly terrified, but she stuck by her Queen's side, brandishing the fishing spear.

Goldeneye opened her hand and stared at the helpless captive.

Janet stared back, twisting her bound wrists and shivering with fear.  "Uh... hello," she said, in a near-whisper.

Goldeneye's forked tongue wiped across her titanic fangs.  "I've always wondered what one of you fairies would taste like," she growled, and licked her chops, again.