“Jaffa!” the old woman exclaimed, eyes flashing yellow with excitement as her faithful servant Oba led the stranger into the throne room.

“Mistress,” came the deep rumble in reply as the dark man bowed his head briefly after the slightest hesitation. “I am honored.”

He swept back one side of the floor length cape to reveal a well-built body shrouded in expensive attire. The firelight danced across the golden emblem on his forehead and Leetha wondered when she had last seen such a stunning sight. She sighed, luxuriating in the sound of her mother tongue for the first time in decades.

“Tell me news of your master,” Leetha requested in kind as she leaned forward in anticipation. It had been so very, very long since news of any interest had trickled back to her, exiled as she was on the desolate, backwater planet.

“Apophis is no more,” the Jaffa informed her without remorse.

Dull eyes flashed again, this time with anger. “Apophis is a god,” she declared fiercely, tapping the gold tipped fingers of her right hand on the arm of the throne.

The Jaffa glanced around casually, taking in the elaborate furnishing and the homely, plainly dressed servants surrounding the perimeter of the large room. He subtly caressed the middle of the staff weapon in his hand, twitching fingers ever so slightly along the firing mechanism. He was supple and strong, no doubt his reflexes and training were superior to any threat Leetha or her servants might pose. And they both knew it. When his eyes once again met hers there was no fear, only a warning; a warning which she heeded by leaning back in her ornate chair and relaxing her hand.

“He was not,” the former first prime intoned calmly leveling a malevolent glare at her. “As you most certainly are aware.”

“Leave us,” the Goa’uld snapped peevishly, dismissing their audience of curious but ignorant slaves, even knowing they couldn’t understand a word that was said between her and the visitor. “What do you want?” she asked warily when the large doors were pulled shut behind Oba, the last reluctant-to-leave servant.

“I am here to serve, Mistress,” the Jaffa declared.

“In search of a god?” Leetha asked mockingly. It had been a long time since any Jaffa had been in her service. Too long.

“A false god? No. Never again,” the large man growled. “But I have no wish to dissuade those foolish enough to worship you,” he assured in a more civil tone. “In fact, I can help you to regain some of your fallen status. It is my understanding that you wish to make an acquisition.”

“And how would you know this?” Leetha questioned suspiciously as she rose and made her way down the steps with a grace that belied her age.

“I came upon a band of Tau’ri who spoke of it,” he explained, “after proper persuasion of course. They visited your planet some time ago.”

“I see,” Leetha replied, moving around the Jaffa, trailing a gnarled hand suggestively up over his shoulder and back. Visitors were few and far between, and she well remembered the Tau’ri. “The young male, do you still possess him? I might be willing to work something out for that one.”

“Unfortunately, no. Although I was able to extract much information from him, ultimately, he did not survive the interrogation.”

“Pity,” the old woman sighed as she made her way slowly back around to the steps leading up to the throne dais.

“However, I am in possession of another human male you might find acceptable. He is also young and strong, guaranteed to bring you many years of service.”

“Really,” the Goa’uld muttered disinterestedly as she climbed the steps back to her seat. She had so wanted a distraction, something pretty. “I have no need of further field slaves. This planet breeds them like rodents, each generation uglier and dumber than the last,” Leetha spat out in contempt before brooding for several minutes in silence. “Is he clean?” she asked at last coming back on topic.

“Indeed. He has never toiled in the field.”

“Intelligent?” Leetha asked hopefully, not able to completely hide the small spark of interest the Jaffa had kindled.

“This Tau’ri is a learned scholar, literate in many languages. His former master was well pleased with him.”

Leetha waved her hand dismissively as she dropped back into her throne, deciding to be difficult. She was certain the man only said what she wanted to hear, and just as certain she would end up disillusioned.

The Jaffa knelt on one knee; in no way subservient but making an effort to appease her. When he spoke his voice was soft, seductive, a knowing smile forming on his lips. “This human is very fair to look upon. His skin is smooth, the color of honey and his cerulean eyes clear and bright. His shoulders are broad and strong, yet his soul gentle, his demeanor sweet. I believe he might be what you are looking for in a… companion.”

With a jerk of her head Leetha stared deep into the ebony eyes, but didn’t protest his assessment of her intentions. Taking the risk of being made a fool by the dark stranger, Leetha came to a decision. “Bring him before me,” she commanded coolly.

“This one will cost you much,” the Jaffa warned, allowing his eyes to linger on the hieroglyphs that decorated the wall behind the throne.

The Goa’uld nodded. “If he is as you say, I will reward you richly,” she promised. “But do not disappoint me.”

The large man bowed deeply. “I shall return in two days time,” he replied as he rose to leave.

“Stay for the evening meal,” the lonely old woman requested urgently, desperate to hear anything of interest. Never would she have believed the day would come when she would have a mere Jaffa to dine as an honored guest. In spite of her riches, her power was all but gone, save for what sway she held over the local population. The boredom through the years had eased into a steady, comforting blur of time passing, but now, after a taste of clever conversation and a glance at a face not marred by time or a life of slow drudgery, now she longed for something more.