slashing_lorne | First snippet of series (Hopefully) 'Waiting' (Reply)

Title: Waiting
Pairings/Characters: Atlantis, Elizabeth Weir (Lorne and team in later installments) Will become slash
Rating: soft PG (may go up in later installments)
Archive: Here and on my journal
Warnings: None for this installment.
Summary: In the years between the Exodus to Earth and the Coming of the new people, Atlantis waits.
Author's notes: First Atlantis fic. This may become a series focusing on Lorne's team and the main cast; I might include guest stars from SG-1, and knowing me, it will be Lorne slash someone or other... *shrugs* Gotta slash the Major. Basically couldn't resist anymore. *delurks and hopes for feedback*

Modly mods! If I need to change the post in any way, please let me know (tags and whatnot)

Atlantis had laid resting for so long; down in the impenetrable darkness. The only soul who it'd had to keep it company had long since gone to rest herself and wouldn't be likely to wake again.

The woman had been older the last time she had awoken – noticably so. Atlantis would have made a few suggestions as to how the female designated 'Elizabeth Weir' might have prolonged the time she could have stayed in stasis before expiring, but all systems were running on less than minimal power, only a fraction of what Atlantis would need to perform the necessary computations and activating a consol so the woman could read the results.

Atlantis had early on deducted that this woman was a descendant and not a citizen. A 'human' as it had heard them called by the Magisters. The descendants could not hear Atlantis – much less interact with its systems. Even so, Atlantis had taken some small confort in the occasional presense of a living being within its walls. The woman Elizabeth only came alive four times in the many centuries of submersion: two times to see to a small fluctuation in the makeshift one-as-three converter and twice to rotate expired potentia, but just the distant ecchoes of life that reached Atlantis in its own slumber was enough to keep it adhering to its new acting primary directive: wait.

It had been harder after the last of the three potentia was locked into the circuit and the woman Elizabeth went back to her rest for what would be – barring unforseen circumstances - the last time. Cold and darkness fell and was only relieved by the faint vibrations of whalesong against the shield; still, Atlantis was patient. Janus, Primus Magister, had made it clear that someone would come eventually. He had not input any data as to who they would be, only that they would not be Wraith and incorporated an imperative into Atlantis systems that it not hurt them.

One day someone would come and, until that time, Atlantis would make music from the rolling of the deep currents and the slow percussion of tectonic plates and wait. And wait...and wait.

TBC