Dangers of Hide-n-Hunt - Ch 3

Dangers of Hide-n-Hunt - Ch 3 Dangers of Hide-n-Hunt - Ch 3

Status: Finished

Genre: Fan Fiction

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Fan Fiction

Summary

Teaching Jennifer how to avoid being captured by an enemy was the purpose of the simple training session. But when was anything simple involving Jennifer Keller. Soon unforeseen forces come into play, it will take all Ronon has to get back what is rightfully his.

Summary

Teaching Jennifer how to avoid being captured by an enemy was the purpose of the simple training session. But when was anything simple involving Jennifer Keller.

Soon unforeseen forces come into play, it will take all Ronon has to get back what is rightfully his.

Content

Submitted: September 17, 2015

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Content

Submitted: September 17, 2015

A A A

A A A


The sun was at its apex when Jennifer's trail led Ronon to a river – or at least a resemblance of one.

According to the locals, months earlier the tributary had been a raging wall of water due to the winter thaw coming off the mountains. For anyone to cross the powerful fjord, they would have had to travel a mile or so downriver where a large pine tree had fallen across the waterway – and even then the crossing could be treacherous.

Now with the summer months upon them, the river had all but dried up. Ronon just simply jumped down from the five foot dry river bank and walked through the ankle deep water. He had known Jen crossed here because of the loosened dirt where she slid down to the stream – jumping was not an option for her unless she had wanted to break her pretty little neck. Noticing several small stones disturbed in the bed of the river he knew she had come this way.

Making it to the other side, Ronon rolled his eyes and softly chuckled at what he saw drawn in the dirt. Looking up to the sky and shaking his head, he thought to himself "Hmmm….I need to have a talk with that woman!" Looking back down he slowly shook his head at the heart and the 'I love you' scrawled in the dirt. Running his hand over his face to try and wipe off the fool grin that she had put there with her symbols of love, Ronon started down river.

It was easy to see that she tried to climb up the steep bank at different points. However at her height unless she had a ladder or a helping hand she was not going to make it. The choice she chose, as far as he could tell, was to follow the river until she found a more suitable place to exit.

Beautiful and logical – such a deadly combination – and he willingly followed.

As Ronon walked down stream, he thought of how proud he was of his Jennifer. Everyone in Atlantis knew that she was a genius – even Rodney had admitted it under his breath at one time or another. She was a strong and determined woman.

When anyone told her that she wasn't capable of doing certain things – such as traveling to another galaxy or hold her own in a shootout with an alien race that could suck the life right out of her or find a cure for an unknown virus that had nearly wiped out a half dozen planets – all because she seemed too weak – Dr. Keller would unequivocally prove them wrong. However, Ronon understood that with all her accomplishments, her soul was delicate and fragile – much like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon. She was capable of such great beauty and strength but needed time to learn to spread delicate wings – and soar.

She did not want to come off appearing weak. So she did double the work – put forth double the effort. Jennifer did double the work so that she would fit in and be accepted. That was what she truly wanted – just to fit in – to belong. To belong one must open themselves up to everything – including getting hurt and Jennifer, he knew, was petrified of that. There had been too much hurt in her past. Ronon wanted to take all that from her, but then Jennifer wouldn't be Jennifer – the woman that he was hopelessly, madly and completely in love with.

Absently following the trail he was suddenly startled when a handful of birds flew out from some overgrown brush. Within a split second he had his gun drawn and ready to fire. Gritting his teeth and growling, "Shit!" he holstered his gun with agitation. Never in his military career nor in the seven years of being a runner had he ever got so lost in his own thoughts over a woman – or anything else for that matter – that his concentration was compromised. He blamed a certain doctor for that and he made a mental note to see if she had a cure for that particular dilemma. If not, then he was doomed – doomed to be a befuddled fool in love!


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