likesthecoat | (no subject)

"Bosses and secretaries is generally frowned upon. It's considered an abuse of power. But . . . with Jack it's not about power." He thinks. "Not his power, anyway."

"Ah. I can see why that might be considered an issue. Still...it seems unfair to regulate such things where there is genuine affection." She very much understands about power dynamics in a relationship.

"Oh, we're not regulated. We're not the American military. Just, my co-workers, they're great but they're also . . . well, they wouldn't respect it. Does that make sense?"

"No," Teyla says, quite honestly. "But I have long given up hope of understanding other cultures' relational mores."

Ianto quietly laughs. "I'm not sure I understand my own culture's relational mores, to be honest. They're a bit in flux. And Jack is from a time when, um, there aren't any, which makes things doubly interesting."

And entertaining.

"Perhaps it is best, then, to make your own rules."

"Yeah. I think we're kind of doing that."

He inhales. "Sorry. I didn't mean to distract you from the ceremony."

Teyla smiles and sips her tea. "Sometimes the distraction is as much a part of the ceremony as the ritual is."

"I could talk about Jack more," he offers. "I can talk about him for hours."

Teyla laughs, though the smile that follows is tinged with melancholy. "Only if you wish to."

She pauses. "In the first year's ceremony, and often the second, there is very little conversation. Our minds cling to memory, to the pain of loss that is still so fresh. But in time we move on, forming new attachments, adjusting to life without those we have lost. The ceremony keeps us from forgetting, but it becomes less and less somber as the years pass."

"Celebrating life, like," Ianto says thoughtfully. "Not just the one you lost, but the one you're living."

He sips, contemplative.

"Yes, exactly. My people believe that life is a circle. There is loss and pain and healing and joy and loss again."

"So did the Celts--my ancestry. Their calendar was a wheel."

"The ring of the Ancestors is an important symbol among my people. I believe that is where many of our traditions come from."

"And what is the ring of the Ancestors?"

[ooc: Bedtime.]

"It is the means by which we travel to other worlds," Teyla says. "In Atlantis we call it the stargate."

[ooc: Goodnight.]

"The wormhole point of origin, correct?"

It's fuzzy, but he thinks he grasps the basic concept.

"Yes, exactly," Teyla says. "They contain the event horizons on either side of the wormhole."

It's just a theory in my world," Ianto says. "It's inspired some good novels, though.

"We're still just sending unmanned probes to Mars and telescopes outside our solar system. I don't expect we'll achieve space travel in my lifetime." He pauses, and says with a faint smile--he always liked Harriet Jones--"We are like children."

"From what I understand," Teyla says, trying to remember what she's been told about it, "the Earth in my world is mostly unaware of the existence of the stargates. Most people also believe that space travel is only a fantasy."

He smiels faintly. "We have that in common. We--here, my Earth--we've actually seen spaceships and creatures from other worlds, and people still dismiss it as mass hallucinations or government trickery. Until people don't react like that, it's best they don't know."

"I confess I find this veiwpoint rather...self-centered. But I have never lived somewhere where travel between worlds was not common."

"Our isolation is a blessing and curse," Ianto says quietly.

"How so?" She tilts her head curiously.

"Well, like you said, we're arrogant. Most people think we're alone in the universe. We've been safe, but at the cost of being so ill-prepared for the truth."