FIC: Princess Of Her Time
Title: Princess of her Time
Rating: PG-13. Because.
Spoilers:Nothing in particular. Think beginning of season 3.
Summary: In which the princess kicks the ass and saves the day.
Notes: This fic is extraordinarily late. I got passed along a tennisfic several months ago and it almost died in my hands. I’d meant for Here Be Dragons to be my offering, but it ended up a little too serious and shippy, and also way too long with several chapters to go.
The first fic was greenconverses ' still excellent Five Kisses John or Teyla Don't Remember (And One They Do). I loved the fourth part, with elements of fairy tale and heroes on a quest.
“And then they lived happily ever after…”
“Happily… ever after? Even on a world free of the Wraith I’m not sure that is possible.”
Ayana sweeps her hair over her shoulder and her young age once again takes Teyla by surprise. But she is the Parvati leader’s daughter, engaged in her people’s affairs and a good fighter from what Teyla’s heard. It is not unusual for such a position to teach self-assurance.
She’s also an absolute beauty, full of charm, intended or not. She has certainly succeeded in captivating all three of Teyla’s teammates. John is eager and even took it to the heart to tell her the story of Cinderella to reciprocate the other tales told around the campfire.
The ale has flown pretty freely all night and Teyla doubts whether the part about the glass slipper is accurate. She will have to ask, once her teammates are sober again and away from the beautiful young women in tight outfits with advantageous cleavages. She’ll ask once there’s any chance she might catch John’s attention. Ayana’s youth and beauty, and with no doubt her interest, have flattered and captivated him. Teyla drinks from her cup and focuses on the great warming bonfire, while her ears listen to their conversation.
“Well, you asked for a story and girls tend to like this one. Besides, Teyla’s already heard Nightmare on Elm Street.”
“I take it this is a story for your children? Why do your “girls” like this Cinderella?”
“Well, on my world, some women like being treated like princesses. Taken care of, protected… you know… like they’re delicate."
The actual princesses glance at each other and both know that in their worlds, there is no such thing as a happily ever after for a princess. There is privilege and respect but mostly there is tremendous, devastating loss, responsibility and duty to shoulder. The glance does not go unnoticed by the man in whose stories fairy godmothers wave their magic sticks and make problems go away.
“Fine, Ayana…. why don’t you tell us a story?”
“My father tells stories, I try to keep us alive.”
Teyla’s only known her a few days but sometimes, it’s just like looking in the mirror.
“Telling these stories reminds you of who you are and where you came from. It strengthens group identity and solidarity. There is more than one way to survive, Ayana.”
Blue eyes the color of steel turn on her with such intensity Teyla feels she’s physically touching her.
“Is that Teyla of Athos dispensing her wisdom, or the one who lives under the Sacred City’s protection?”
“The city was destroyed, and I speak for myself.”
“A quaint position for a leader.”
Her father, Veron, breaks into the conversation but their eyes are interlocked. Each thinking back to the planet she left behind and the sense of defeat she let into her heart that day.
Something is wrong. So wrong her finger tightens around the trigger of her P-90, barely holding back the shot. She zips up her vest as she walks and then runs to the town center. Some of the homes are on fire but she hasn’t felt the cold that usually precedes such a scene. The clamor that raised her from her tent is getting louder as Teyla approaches. There is confusion, and she can even sense fear as the villagers try to put out the flames.
Veron breaks away from the group and approaches her, his hands held out, his voice pleading. She can’t yet make out his words but her stomach tightens in preparation for unwelcome news.
“They are only girls and they mean no harm…”
“What has happened? Where are my teammates?”
His features move in and out of darkness as the fires’ shadows dance on his face.
“She says she will take them through the Ring. They did not struggle.”
“Why? And who took them?”
“The fires erupted and your teammates tried to help. But then the girls came with weapons and she… they tied them up and marched them off.”
“They? She?”
“Ayana, Sari and Kenda. They will not abandon the ways of the Ancestors. Ayana said he was marked and she took him, the others as well.”
Ayana, the pretty girl with the live eyes and quick speech. The one who hovered around all of them all night, around John particularly, her eyes speaking a language Teyla, and maybe John too, had misunderstood.
She recognizes the feeling from having been under its sway most of her life. There is fear in going to bed in the dark knowing the cold might startle her awake, fear in watching her people, her charges, walk away and leave her among strangers. Even in this moment there is the fear for her teammates with the possibility that she might be too late to help them.
There is also having to walk away from the village leader, their new ally, knowing you might have to kill his only child. But she came to accept long ago, that survival at any cost is simply what it means to be a human being in Pegasus.
She makes to move away when he grabs her arm.
“She is young and sees hope in the Ancestors’ legacy, for all of us. Please, understand.”
Teyla understands; she’s just not sure she can allow it to matter.
She hates running through forests at night: too many bad memories for the experience to ever be pleasurable. Adding to that the urgency of her task, Teyla feels anger. Burning, simmering anger. The kindness in her pities her quarries once she’ll track them down but she simply can’t allow them to get Ronon, Rodney and John through the stargate and off the planet.
They left a trail a blind person could follow, let alone an Athosian trained to hunt. She flashes back to her early lessons and interprets the tracks as she was taught: six people, three heavier than the other three, a herd. Their progress is at first straightforward, the heavier footsteps followed by lighter ones. Long hurried steps Teyla follows as her own feet stomp into the muddy ground, running through trees her P-90 in hand, its beam shedding light on the path before her.
She stops abruptly as the tracks become muddled, willfully attempting to confuse her. But it is clumsily done, she sees the scuffle and knows how it ended. The group split up in three directions but one set is different. She repeats the calculations she made while running. One of her teammates is being marched off in the most direct route to the gate, another is being taken in a direction that will allow whoever is with him to intercept anyone pursuing them and the third one is being marched directly into the forest, towards the caves where the Parvati plan to hide during the next culling. She hesitates a little before following the last ones, the ones where someone is clearly being dragged.
It doesn’t take Teyla more than a few minutes to hear her. Struggling, panting, pulling her heavy load behind her. A single shot would end it, but Teyla can’t bring herself to shoot anyone in the back, let alone a deluded Parvati girl who somehow thinks she is helping her people.
Instead she rushes her. Silent, speedy steps and then a full out run until she slams into her, bringing her down to the ground. The girl cries out in surprise and soon the two of them are at it. Fists, a silent struggle, she even tries to bite Teyla. The girl has a good basic technique but lacks the skill, strength or oversight to fight back efficiently and shake Teyla off. She is afraid and unknowingly bestows an easy advantage. Teyla finally pins her down with her legs and aims a well placed blow. She feels the girl’s body go slack.
She relieves her of her weapon before scrambling over to check on Ronon. His pulse is slow and his breathing is even. A deep gash runs from his forehead and the left side of his face is covered in a thick stream of blood. Despite having his arms tied behind his back, he tried to fight back and after some struggle, she must have stunned him.
It feels terrible to leave him there with his attacker so close, but she has two more teammates being marched along. She lessens the betrayal by undoing his restraints and instead tying up the girl, Kenda as it turns out. The one who giggled when Rodney choked on the Parvati ale. For good measure, she stuns her once before heading back on the trail, stunner in one hand, her P-90 beating against her chest with every running step.