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Fic: River to the Sea (BSG)
AN: I blame the porn battle (number IX. Where has the time gone?), for giving me a prompt about Leoben that I just couldn’t make porn about, and reopening all my thought about Leoben and religion and his relationships with everyone else on the show.
Oh, and Lyssie, but she betaed at 1AM, so I suppose I should forgive her. ;)
Spoilers: The whole kit and caboodle.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Rating: Kid friendly.
Summary: Everywhere he goes, Leoben starts a religion.
+++++
River to the Sea
Everywhere he goes, Leoben starts a religion.
He doesn’t do it on purpose, not at first anyway. But the world is wide and he has one of the last good pairs of shoes in existence and he feels he needs to earn them, so he walks. And in walking he meets the world, and finds it strangely empty.
Monotheism is difficult for people to grasp. He understands this. He’s always seen the river with more clarity than the others. He’s more flexible than they were too. Laura Roslin taught him that. It is her story he tells first.
Stories spread of a goddess, horrible and beautiful, terrible and wonderful. Her will is absolute, she makes the path, and through her mankind arrives at the truth. Ushas, they call her, and they love and fear her in equal amounts.
Life is harsh here. Harsher even than it was on the Tillium ship, harsher than Cylon occupied New Caprica. Gods are harsh as well. Quick to anger, reckless in love. He finds it strangely endearing, and thinks of all the ways Kara devised to kill him, before he realized that her story was not what he thought it was.
She steals the bow and arrow, and leaves a trail of violence in her wake. She kills the ones she loves and comes to mourn them later. And she loves her father, even when she hates him. Who her father is is never clear. ‘Anat, they call her, and they always come back when she calls to them.
Sometimes, he arrives too late and the myth is already in place. The names are all the same, but the stories are different. He laughs and laughs, and they do not understand why. But the daughter of their virgin is their saviour, and every time he thinks of it, he smiles.
She saves them all, in the end. Teaching them to plough and to weave again, when hunting alone proves insufficient. Her birth is shrouded in mysticism and physical impossibility, but she is born ready, with a spear in her hand. Athena, they call her, and the daughter she never had becomes the mother of them all.
He heard her voice in space, and she didn’t live to see the green earth. He mourns for her, and tells a story about the voice that guided the ships home when they went to battle. Resurrected raiders had heard her too, calling out across the void, and loved her even as they mindlessly sought her destruction.
There is nothing to do but wait. Waiting for the fish to bite is easy. Waiting for the fishermen to return is hard. So they pray to her, asking that the fish be sent and caught, asking that the return home is safe. Matsu, they call her, and she never answers, but when the fishermen return, the people know that she has heard.
She loved with a force he couldn’t hope to match. She scared him more than he liked to admit, because she believed harder than he did. His belief made him quiet, contained. Her belief burned through her body with a light so bright it blinded him. He was awed by her conviction, and unsurprised when she was the first to love.
There are more legends about her than anyone can count. In some, she rages. In others, she kills. In all, she is calmed by her lover, by her child. This is how fear becomes life, how they know that whatever the danger, she will be the force of change that pulls them through. Kali, they call her, and she will always be misunderstood.
The north is riddled with gods, one almost for every river and tree. He doesn’t know if he will be able to find names and stories for them all, but he will walk until his shoes are gone, and when he cannot go any further, others will take over.
The girl who was made up of luck and faith, the girl who lost everything and then lost it all again, the girl who built herself back up and refused to be torn down, the girl who always led the charge until leading it got her killed, the girl who played with the boys and won, the girl who wanted to fly more than anything, the girl who was made to love and made to lose, the girl who was loyal to everyone except herself, the girl who never flinched, the girl who walked the razor’s edge, the girl who kept the changeling alive, the girl who put them back together when the doctor was too busy, the girl who believed in her visions so hard – all of them find places and names, and people to remember them.
He talks until his voice is gone, and then others take up the task. He doesn’t live to see science make a goddess of the one called Hera and Isis, but he sees the river pull that way before he goes. The men built the cities, the temples, for all they wanted not to, but the women, the goddesses, built the Earth.
++++
finis
Gravity_Not_Included, January 27, 2010
Oh, and Lyssie, but she betaed at 1AM, so I suppose I should forgive her. ;)
Spoilers: The whole kit and caboodle.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Rating: Kid friendly.
Summary: Everywhere he goes, Leoben starts a religion.
+++++
River to the Sea
Everywhere he goes, Leoben starts a religion.
He doesn’t do it on purpose, not at first anyway. But the world is wide and he has one of the last good pairs of shoes in existence and he feels he needs to earn them, so he walks. And in walking he meets the world, and finds it strangely empty.
Monotheism is difficult for people to grasp. He understands this. He’s always seen the river with more clarity than the others. He’s more flexible than they were too. Laura Roslin taught him that. It is her story he tells first.
Stories spread of a goddess, horrible and beautiful, terrible and wonderful. Her will is absolute, she makes the path, and through her mankind arrives at the truth. Ushas, they call her, and they love and fear her in equal amounts.
Life is harsh here. Harsher even than it was on the Tillium ship, harsher than Cylon occupied New Caprica. Gods are harsh as well. Quick to anger, reckless in love. He finds it strangely endearing, and thinks of all the ways Kara devised to kill him, before he realized that her story was not what he thought it was.
She steals the bow and arrow, and leaves a trail of violence in her wake. She kills the ones she loves and comes to mourn them later. And she loves her father, even when she hates him. Who her father is is never clear. ‘Anat, they call her, and they always come back when she calls to them.
Sometimes, he arrives too late and the myth is already in place. The names are all the same, but the stories are different. He laughs and laughs, and they do not understand why. But the daughter of their virgin is their saviour, and every time he thinks of it, he smiles.
She saves them all, in the end. Teaching them to plough and to weave again, when hunting alone proves insufficient. Her birth is shrouded in mysticism and physical impossibility, but she is born ready, with a spear in her hand. Athena, they call her, and the daughter she never had becomes the mother of them all.
He heard her voice in space, and she didn’t live to see the green earth. He mourns for her, and tells a story about the voice that guided the ships home when they went to battle. Resurrected raiders had heard her too, calling out across the void, and loved her even as they mindlessly sought her destruction.
There is nothing to do but wait. Waiting for the fish to bite is easy. Waiting for the fishermen to return is hard. So they pray to her, asking that the fish be sent and caught, asking that the return home is safe. Matsu, they call her, and she never answers, but when the fishermen return, the people know that she has heard.
She loved with a force he couldn’t hope to match. She scared him more than he liked to admit, because she believed harder than he did. His belief made him quiet, contained. Her belief burned through her body with a light so bright it blinded him. He was awed by her conviction, and unsurprised when she was the first to love.
There are more legends about her than anyone can count. In some, she rages. In others, she kills. In all, she is calmed by her lover, by her child. This is how fear becomes life, how they know that whatever the danger, she will be the force of change that pulls them through. Kali, they call her, and she will always be misunderstood.
The north is riddled with gods, one almost for every river and tree. He doesn’t know if he will be able to find names and stories for them all, but he will walk until his shoes are gone, and when he cannot go any further, others will take over.
The girl who was made up of luck and faith, the girl who lost everything and then lost it all again, the girl who built herself back up and refused to be torn down, the girl who always led the charge until leading it got her killed, the girl who played with the boys and won, the girl who wanted to fly more than anything, the girl who was made to love and made to lose, the girl who was loyal to everyone except herself, the girl who never flinched, the girl who walked the razor’s edge, the girl who kept the changeling alive, the girl who put them back together when the doctor was too busy, the girl who believed in her visions so hard – all of them find places and names, and people to remember them.
He talks until his voice is gone, and then others take up the task. He doesn’t live to see science make a goddess of the one called Hera and Isis, but he sees the river pull that way before he goes. The men built the cities, the temples, for all they wanted not to, but the women, the goddesses, built the Earth.
++++
finis
Gravity_Not_Included, January 27, 2010
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Thanks!
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Yes, that's who they are. The final order is Racetrack, Cally, Kat, Gunny, Jean Barolay, Seelix, Boomer, Tory, Cain, Kendra, Maya, Ishay and D'Anna.
*whew* :)
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'But the daughter of their virgin is their saviour, and every time he thinks of it, he smiles.'
Great, great line. <3
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Thanks for reading!
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That he uses religion is the Cylon cherry on top.
My favourite quote:
He doesn’t do it on purpose, not at first anyway. But the world is wide and he has one of the last good pairs of shoes in existence and he feels he needs to earn them, so he walks. And in walking he meets the world, and finds it strangely empty.
Gods, I *so* want to hear more about his travels as a prophet for all these wonderful and beautiful and complex women!
Again, great job! :)
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I love the idea of Leoben carrying all of these incredible women with him and telling their stories. It's such a nice thought and oddly perfect for him :)Beautiful piece.
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I don't have a lot of BSG fic, but they're all in my bsg fic tag. ;)
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I am still in awe of the manner you've managed to capture Leoben, and the role you've placed him in fits him so well. All those stories he sat by the Hybrid to imagine and listen for, he's telling them, giving them back to the life that comes after. The image of him as wanderer was great (because he never really "fit" exactly in did he? - Cylon or human; atheist; true-believers; or rebels - which makes this line ring out all the more: He’s always seen the river with more clarity than the others. He’s more flexible than they were too.).
Also, this is just a gorgeous tribute to the women of BSG. I know there was a topic that rose up in the BSG fandom about so MANY of the female characters just... dying, but this, this story brought them back to life.
The last line, especially, was perfection. :) Thank you for sharing this story!
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(Here via a rec at
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