Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate: Atlantis (nor any characters, places, things, or ideas therein), nor am I claiming ownership. (If I did, however, own Atlantis, Ronon and Teyla would be long and happily married with half a dozen kids, a dog, and there would be no annoying TPTB trying to interfere with what is meant to be.) This fic is for entertainment purposes only, not monetary gain of any sort, though reviews would be nice.

Summary: Some say love is more powerful than death. Love can never be understood or explained -- particularly not when blessed and gifted by the Ancestors. RononTeyla

Rating: T

Warnings: Violence

Pairing: Ronon/Teyla

Spoilers: None

Title: The Eternally Blessed

Author: fyd818

Dedication: To jewel of athos, who constantly keeps me laughing and inspires -- and sends those lovely plot monkeys my way. Thanks, my TWIN sister!

Author's Note: This was a very quick one-shot written at 2:00 in the morning when writer's block was making everything else impossible. The idea just suddenly shot into my head and demanded to be written -- and who am I to deny that which was demanded? I hope you enjoy this piece, and thanks for reading!


The Eternally Blessed

fyd818


"And so there shall be two, when all seems hopeless, who shall be gifted by the Ancestors and forevermore be known as The Eternally Blessed." -Ancestral prophecy, author unknown, discovered by Dr. Rodney McKay, astrophysicist, in the Ancient database on the date of April 24, 2011.


Ronon Dex had not cried for a very long time. Not when his first wife died, not when he was turned into a Runner, not when he found out his home had been destroyed. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he'd cried, it had been so long.

But he was a mere mortal, one who would eventually be crushed under the pressure of trying to remain as solid and emotionally stoic as an immortal.

The Gateroom was awash with colors, a rainbow of too-bright blues, greens, yellows, reds, alive with a clarity and focus that couldn't possibly be real. The normal, muted colors of the sea city Atlantis had been exterminated in a Technicolor burst that nearly blinded Ronon. He tried to tell himself it was the brilliance that brought the tears to his eyes, but he knew that was not the case.

Teyla, his wife of almost two years, lay before him. She was barely recognizable past the blood, let alone the colors that that shone on her like some celestial light. Ronon didn't touch her -- couldn't touch her. He'd known the moment he'd picked her up back on the planet -- the call letters and numbers of which he couldn't recall on a normal day, let alone this one -- that she was dead.

Everything was moving in slow motion around him. He heard the voices of Colonel John Sheppard, his team leader, and Dr. Rodney McKay, his other teammate, talking to Atlantis's leader, Dr. Elizabeth Weir. But their voices were garbled and distant, as if they were all speaking underwater in another room. The clatter of gurney wheels was coming closer, accompanied by the anxious sounds of a medical team. Their haste was pointless, for there was nothing left to salvage.

The glow started behind him, spilling pure white light across him and Teyla that made the former rainbow look dim in comparison. Ronon squinted, hitching up one shoulder to try to shade his eyes even a little against the intense radiance which threatened to blind him.

Then everything went still and quiet. No more voices, no more movement, not even the same harsh light that had been there only a second before. Everything was suddenly -- gone.

A presence knelt next to him. Startled, Ronon turned to look, having to expend tremendous effort to look away from Teyla even in his surprise.

The woman who knelt next to him looked a lot like Melena, his first wife. He'd idly wondered over the years what she would think of his remarrying, finding another life in another city, another planet. He hadn't forgotten her, and never would, but he loved another now. What did she think of that? He liked to think she was fine with it, even that she would have liked Teyla. Despite the fact that Melena had restored life as a healer and Teyla took it away as a warrior, he could see a few similarities in the two women that made him think they would have been good friends.

Then, with a start, he realized it was Melena. She smiled at him, her hair seeming more golden than ever from the subtle glow radiating from her body, her clothes, her eyes, her mouth -- every part of her.

"Melena?"

She smiled at him, her blue-grey eyes peaceful. "You were right, Ronon," she said. Turning from him, she gazed at Teyla. "You have changed much since we were together, Ronon. I still love you, very much. But she is right for you now, where I am not."

Tearing his gaze away from the incorporeal form of Melena, he looked back at Teyla. "I-I did like to think you'd be friends," he admitted.

Melena chuckled softly. "I think we would have been too, Ronon. She is a good woman. Strong, noble. A lot like you." She smoothed her white skirt across her knees, her slim fingers shimmering with pearly luminescence with the motion.

"She's dead." Ronon wished he could swallow back the words the moment they left his lips. He'd been trying not to say them aloud, for saying something aloud made it real. And her not being a part of his life anymore couldn't possibly be real.

"She is," Melena said. "But she is not beyond your reach, Ronon."

His hand automatically went to the weapon in the holster at his hip. He'd carried it for a very long time, used it on countless numbers of his enemy, but had never considered using it on himself. Until now. "I promised her I'd follow her wherever she went," he said, recalling so clearly their wedding vows. "I had not expected…"

Insubstantial warmth brushed against his face, turning it towards Melena. "That is not what I meant," she whispered. For the first time a hint of unease showed in her eyes, making them look like the sky before a storm. "Do you know why I am here, Ronon?" She withdrew her hand, taking with it her inhuman warmth.

"No," Ronon admitted. He couldn't even begin to pretend to understand why.

"The Ancestors sent me. They are not as cruel and heartless as you believe, Ronon. Before they abandoned this city, one of them left a prophecy in the computer database, meant to be triggered at just the right time. Your friend Rodney discovered it less than three days ago, though he mentioned it to no one. 'And so there shall be two, when all seems hopeless, who shall be gifted by the Ancestors and forevermore be known as The Eternally Blessed.'" Melena looked at Teyla again. "I have been waiting for many years for this moment, Ronon."

"Why?"

Melena reached out to Ronon's hands, which lay palms-up on his lap. She touched his palms with her fingertips, brushing across from his wrist to the very tips of his fingers. Then she withdrew, leaving his hands tingling as if from electric shock. "The Eternally Blessed are rare couples who have been gifted by the Ancestors with a unique gift that, when used correctly, can heal even the most mortal wound." She looked down at her hands, now folded in her lap. "I was sent to bestow this gift upon you and Teyla."

Ronon stared openly at her. "But, I -- we…" He closed his mouth and swallowed hard, feeling fresh tears well into his eyes.

Melena smiled at him. "I want this, Ronon. As I said, you are a different person, and so am I. We are no longer meant to be in each other's lives. After today -- well, I cannot guarantee we will ever see each other again. The probability is slim. But I wished to give you this once last thing, to tell you once and for all that I am happy for you."

Turning back to Teyla, he stared at the wound on her chest. "What do I do?" he asked.

"Touch her," Melena replied. "And simply let your love for her flow through your hands into her."

Leaning forward, Ronon folded one hand over Teyla's forehead, using his little finger to brush stray strands away. He then rested his other on her chest, over the worst part of her wound. Then he leaned down, closed his eyes, and kissed her cold, pale lips.

The feeling of being electrocuted returned, this time engulfing his entire body. At first he thought that Melena had been mistaken, and the gift she'd given him had been meant to destroy him, until he felt Teyla's lips move beneath his. They parted slightly, increasing the pressure against his. Beneath his hand, he felt her chest rise and fall, rise and fall, as the breath returned to her. Her skin warmed beneath his hand as if she had never been cold.

Ronon sat up and away as Teyla lifted herself onto one elbow, her eyes wide and staring at him with wonderment. "Ronon?" There was so much confusion, and hope, and love, and longing, in her voice. He rejoiced at hearing it again.

"Teyla." Then, because he could, he said her name again. "Teyla." Reaching out, he grasped her shoulders and pulled her to him, hugging her tightly with full intention of never letting go.

She suddenly pulled away, looking past him to where Melena sat, a soft, glowing smile on her face. "Who--?" Teyla began.

"This is Melena," Ronon said. He looked at the woman he'd once loved, and still loved in a far different way, but kept one arm tightly around Teyla.

"Melena…" Teyla's voice was tight with recognition.

The Satedan woman smiled. "Thank you," she whispered, a new sheen overtaking her eyes. "Thank you for healing Ronon, for -- for helping him. For loving him."

Teyla blinked, then looked at him. He could offer nothing, and shook his head slightly at her. He wasn't sure what to say, either.

Suddenly the joy on Melena's face melted away, replaced by the same stoic look Ronon associated with the one Ancient he'd met in person. It looked foreign on her usually emotional face. She quickly told Teyla what she'd told Ronon, about the prophecy and the gift. Then she reached out and brushed Teyla's hands with her own, leaving a slight pearly sheen behind, though it soon faded. "The Eternally Blessed," she whispered, looking at them both with a fiercely proud expression on her face. "It fits."

Leaning forward anxiously, Teyla tried to touch Melena, but her hand passed through, as Ronon had somehow known it would. "Thank you," she whispered. Despite how awkward the situation was for all parties involved, there was nothing but sincerity on her face as she looked at the woman who had once been her husband's wife, the love, light, and thriving purpose of his life.

"I leave you with one last gift," Melena said, smiling at them both. Then, without another word, she winked out of existence. No fanfare, no warning, no brilliant flash of lighting and peal of thunder. She was just -- gone.

The world shifted around Ronon and Teyla the second she vanished. Everything seemed to move in rapid reverse, taking them back to right before they'd left through the Gate.

"…weirdest thing I've ever seen," McKay was saying.

Ronon looked to Teyla, who looked back with mirrored surprise on her face. The wound on her chest was gone, as was the blood and the gaping hole in her shirt, jacket, and tac vest. She was alive again, vibrantly so, as if she'd never been dead in the first place.

"We have a problem," Dr. Weir called down from the control room. Ronon looked up -- that hadn't happened the first time around.

"What problem?" Sheppard demanded, not noticing the confusion on his teammate's faces.

"Apparently M59-K74 has been locked out of the system," she replied. "The Stargate won't dial."

Teyla met his gaze as he lowered it. That was Melena's parting gift -- she'd somehow managed to lock the planet they'd gone to out of the dialing system. They would never go on the mission that had killed Teyla and nearly destroyed Ronon.

McKay and Sheppard headed up the control room stairs, grumbling at each other. Ronon reached out to take Teyla's hand, surprised when he felt a small electric shock zing between them. He looked down just in time to see the last tiny spark of pearl luminescence fading from between their fingers.

Letting go of her hand, he reached out to fold her in his arms and hold her once more. Then he turned his face up toward the ceiling of Atlantis's Gateroom, closed his eyes, and thanked the Ancestors for the first time in a very, very long time.

-The End-


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