A/N: Well, I wrote this for the Secret Santa thing we had over at GateWorld, the four prompt words are below, and I really couldn't think of anything else to do with them besides writing a fairy tale kind of fic. Anyways, I hope you enjoy reading, thanks!
Title: The Chosen One
Recipient: Camy
Prompt: The Frog Prince, Besame, Without You, Legends of the Fall
Summary: Short fairy tale, regarding a legend…
Rating: K+
--
Once upon a time… In a galaxy far, far away, there was a handsome young prince by the name of John.
The prince was special in a way that had not been known for centuries. He was gifted with a special gene in his blood, the gene of the Ancestors.
His destiny, his father had told him, was to save those in danger from their sworn enemy, and defeat them once and for all.
The Legends of the Fall was a tale told to the young and innocent, a bedtime story which said that the prince was to be the one to defeat those inflicting harm on human kind. It described their enemies as ruthless beings, with pale skin, white hair, and capable of taking their very soul from them with just a touch of their hand. They were known as the Wraith, since they resembled phantoms, or ghosts.
Their enemies had not been seen for many centuries, though the elders of the village had not yet forgotten the terror that they caused upon sight.
People were taken, never to be seen again, whenever they came.
John himself had been trained by the very best swordsmen ever since he was five, and was the number one knight of the village and far beyond.
The prince was proud to be the chosen one, and trained every sunrise and sunset. Other knights trained with him on occasions, though they tired quickly, and did not like to be defeated time and time again. It left him feeling lonely often, as he was on his own regularly. Sometimes he thought about finding the right girl, hoping that he would, some day. There were plenty of fine woman in the village, however, he never felt anything special for them. Not in the way he hoped.
Winter was fast approaching, and tiny snowflakes had already fallen, covering the ground like a soft white blanket.
The snow always disturbed the elders of the village, who believed it to be the sign that the Wraith were nearby, ready to attack.
Even though John had not seen snow fall many times before, he doubted that it was really a sign. He did believe in the legend, how could he not, when it was all his father had ever told him before he fell asleep at night. Regardless, no one knew when the time would come… It could be many years from now.
John set down his sword, letting it rest against the big oak tree accompanying him on the hill. The sun was just touching the horizon, orange and purple filling the sky around it.
His muscles were pleasantly sore, burning slightly from the training. He enjoyed his daily practises above anything, keeping his body lean and toned. The chilled air was rapidly cooling him now that he sat still though, and he reluctantly got to his feet. Walking towards his mansion, he cast one last glance over his shoulder, taking in the image of the sun setting, and its last rays illuminating the rustling leaves of the big oak.
--
The next morning, John awoke by the sound of the birds as usual, just before the sun would rise to warm and brighten the lands. Pushing the warm covers aside, he dressed for the day and ate breakfast.
It was still quiet outside when he walked up the hill, only the farmers outside with him.
Just as he began the climb up the steep hill, a farmer yelled for help in the distance, the panic in his voice clearly audible.
John didn't hesitate for a moment, and began sprinting toward the farmer, others also gathering to offer assistance.
Even though he had been the furthest away, he arrived only seconds after the cry for help. He had been expecting some sort of danger, perhaps a predator within the bounds of the village.
But the old farmer who had cried out was crouched on the ground, a young woman in his arms, barely conscious. She bore many battle wounds, a knife still limply clutched in her right hand.
The farmer, Edward, was shaking her softly, demanding explanations.
The woman gripped Edward's arm tightly, gazing at him. "The Wraith," she whispered, terror evident in her eyes, before they fluttered closed and she sagged against him.
--
The Wraith… That was the only thing she had said, before passing out. What did it mean? Were they really coming?
All those years of preparing… And now the time had come.
Everyone had heard the news by now, and they were all panicking. His father tried to calm as many as he could, claiming that John was here. And after all, he was to be the one who could defeat them, so they would all be safe.
Expect, he wasn't sure if he could. Naturally, he had trained for this, all his life. But could he hope to protect them all? He feared the worst.
His father approached him in the crowd of people, inclining his head to the healing place, with a significant look.
Following obediently, they walked into the healers' house. The woman was sitting on a bed, trying to get past the healer who was pushing her back. Her attention shifted to them as they entered, and she must have understood their status, as she started explaining immediately.
"The Wraith, they are coming. I have come to tell you this, chosen one, before they attack," she said in a rush, her eyes boring into John's.
"What is your name?"
"My name is Teyla, sire. Have I arrived too late?"
John shook his head. "Please, call me John. You have not arrived too late, the Wraith have not been seen as of yet," he added. "How did you sustain your injuries?" he asked, grimacing as his eyes roamed over her bruised body.
"They have already attacked our village… John. I fought to protect my people," she responded.
John frowned. Woman did not normally fight amongst the men in battles, not in their village. She must be talented though, John concluded, to have escaped with her life. Teyla read his expression correctly, as her brow furrowed, and her eyes narrowed.
"I am a valuable warrior, and I will fight this battle along side you, please do not try to stop me."
He nodded in agreement, though most would probably disagree with his decision. She had come to warn them, and they could use another fighter. He owed her that.
Teyla's frown disappeared, and was replaced by a look of disbelief.
John failed to suppress the smile tugging at his lips, allowing himself to look properly at the lady for the first time.
She was beautiful, regardless of the bruises and cuts on her face. And as she smiled back at him, albeit a little reluctantly, his stomach gave him a funny feeling.
Shaking it off, he inclined his head. "I must get going, Teyla, until later."
--
Now that it had been confirmed that the Wraith were indeed coming, everything was hectic as they tried to prepare themselves in any way possible. The children and woman were all moved to the castle, were they could be protected, and the men capable of fighting prepared themselves.
It only took the Wraith a day to attack, and as the legend had said, they came from the sky.
And so, the battle began.
The prince and his army launched an attack, John being the first to raise his sword, his fellow knights and Teyla by his side.
John had never fought a battle so intense before, the difference being that this time, so much more was at stake than just who was going to buy the drinks that night. He lost sight of the other knights, and Teyla as well. It was too dangerous to take his eyes off the Wraith for even a second, and so he was only left with his mind coming up with the worst outcome of this battle. He tried to transfer his despair into the fight even more, willing himself not to expect the worst outcome.
The fight lasted for what seemed like days.
Until eventually, against all odds, there were no more Wraith left to fight.
The prince and his army had won. He was still standing.
John hastily looked around, and found most of his people still in line next to him, however weakly. There were some casualties however, some of his people had given their life for the freedom of the rest of his people, and he would forever remember their names and faces.
He breathed a sigh of relief when his eye caught Teyla's, standing a short distance away from him, still tense.
The prince was so immensely relieved of their victory, and to see the castle unharmed, that he crossed the short distance between him and Teyla, and hugged her tightly to him, murmuring words of comfort in her ear.
He felt the tension drain away from her body, and the next moment she was hugging him back just as tightly.
Then they broke apart, and Teyla was gazing up at him, her face just inches away from his. Before he knew it she kissed him, a perfect kiss, like the prince had always dreamed of…
And in that moment – he did not feel lonely any more.
--
Many centuries later…
"Teyla??" John called from the bedroom. "I really cannot do this without you," he exclaimed. "Are you coming or what?"
Teyla sighed as she walked into the bedroom, furrowing her brow at John, who smiled back sweetly. Shaking her head at him, she sat down on the corner of the bed, glancing at the book Torren wanted them to read as a bedtime story.
John picked up the little book; a fairy tale named 'The Frog Prince' and started reading out loud, trying to manage a sleepy tone. Teyla stroked Torrens' hair while John continued, and the little toddler's eyelids were already drooping.
It didn't take long for the little guy to fall into a deep sleep, and John led Teyla back to the living room, pulling her on the couch with him.
She smiled lazily at him, and pulled him close for a kiss.
A perfect kiss… just a little too familiar. After all…. it was a kiss repeated through centuries.
And they lived happily ever after…