Manifesto to Teyla: The Queen

Author: The Puppeteer

Rating: G

Disclaimer: Read my bio.

Spoilers: None.

Authors Note: I believe the most taciturn of men can be the most besotted of fools when they find a woman that fulfills their being…Am I right? Or am I right?

Posting: Not without my permission.

PLEASE READ:

'xyz' represents the words written. Also this is for the Teyla/Rachel Luttrell party this week, started by Camy. But her title is shared with Gatelover12 for having started a thread on her appreciation long before; at understand my approach I need to explain what I am doing. I wanted to interpret the speakers meaning. I wanted to experiment with style, and chose this style as a way for the man to express his feeling through words, but I want you to sense it.

Now many assume that Teyla doesn't read…I ask you to look to 'Suspicion' and see that she has a book and what looks like a journal, so there is a style of writing and language, common to the Athosian's. Whoever you choose to place as the man who adores her, then also assume that he learned her language. And in doing so he places this letter in her hands to read…

I am an entity that roams the halls of Atlantis, I have followed my daughter here, for she has needed me more than most may realize. She has prayed to me for every decisions she has made, I have held her as she has cried, I have caressed her hair as she has been in pain. And I am here now, as the voyeur to witness her own salvation and my ultimate death.

You see it is this evening that she is given the heart of a warrior, and she relinquishes her own to his hands. I am not needed any more for her support. She has replaced my role as she has needed to do for years now. I am more than happy for her, for she is my treasure, she is all I have of my lineage and; Oh, I am proud, more so than one can ever imagine.

At this moment she lays upon the bed in the center of this strange room lit bougie surrounding, it is filled with various items of our people, her memories of a life once live;, the scent of burning hierbas permeate the air. By her side lays a man, he is of a height that is found amongst my people with dark hair and eyes that seem to be seeking something that I am unable to read.

She is under his arm, her head resting at shoulders, the sun's rays light the room. His arms lay around her, a piece of paper in one hand, the other stroking her body. Teyla has chosen well, he knows the time of rebirth, the gift of a new day praised by our people. He has already been welcomed by me.

I see him hand her the letter it seems, disjuncted notes of our tongue, again I give of nod of my acceptance. I see the surprise that he has used her language. And then I see the wonder overtake her.

'I am not a poet, nor am I a bard, nor do the lyrics spill from my lips as a musician. I am guache, a man of action before words. A man who values the words that come forth and their meaning, for he doesn't want you to misunderstand. I am a man who will lay myself down at your feet, and beg for all that you are and try to be anything you wish.'

"There is no need for that," I hear her speak in a soft tone. "You are all I have ever desired."

'You are a woman that bares my heart in her palms.'

'You heal the wounds of my soul. You defend me and my faiths, forgoing your own. You have denied yourself and sacrificed yourself for your people, for a cause you hold dear. For all your fearlessness, for all your strength and for all the pain you have endured; you are the most innocent of women, the most assertive of mind, body, and spirit. You are an enigma to me, and for the years that I hope we have ahead of us, I will garner every mystery you bring forth. As much as I do not understand you now, it was serendipity for us to meet, for us to forge this bond.'

'Those feelings…those feeling so well hidden, so hard to express; I am here for you. I see your pain, I adore your laughter, I read your anxiety and fear as though it were my own. Your empathy was what called me to you, our souls met in a glance and words were unnecessary. Our history was then merged at that moment. Your humor, brings lightness to my lost heart it has torn away the surliness and sarcasm ever present in my tone. Your sorrow, your burden, I take as my own gladly even to the next life, for I wish you at my side as my being always.'

Tears are falling freely from her eyes, the scar-less skin of mahogany she inherits. She so resembles the beauty of her mother. "As I do you," she whispers. "And...what of my anger ?"

This brings a chuckle from him, something I wonder over. He responds reverently, "Ah, your anger…..makes me feel as though I am alive. It is like the lightening from a storm at Atlantis." This brings a smile to my transparent face.

'Your energy gives me new life and rejuvenates my being. And your innocence…Dear lord, your innocence. It brings what I thought lost to me. For years and for so long I had feared losing that little boy who just wants to be cherished unconditionally. The boy, who wishes for the adoration of no other but that person who is his equal and willing to sanctify him. The boy that is light hearted and totally fearless.'

'I am human, I am frightened, I am worried, I am horrified, and that boy…he knows none of those debilitating feelings. It has been a war between the man I am, and the man I wish to be…you have stilled that battle. The man I am, the warrior I hope I am, and the boy you have saved, are your slaves, and they are whole; we submit ourselves to your power.'

Chokingly she says, "...there is no need for that, for I submit myself equally, without fear and whole heartedly."

'Your body…your body was made by the gods; your legs to carry you forth towards greatness, it is of steel and bone; your arms, to hold me, to heal me, give me refuge, and protect those you hold dear; your breast to feed new life and to add to your feminity, to lay my head upon and hear the rhythm of your heart; and your hands.'

'Ah, your hands…your hands are those of workers. My mother had similar hands. They are the hands of a woman who has known labor, who has worked along the side of men…it is the hands of fighter and the hands that life springs from. Your hands have healed, your hands have hurt, your hands have defended, your hands graze my face with it's roughness bringing tears to my eyes.'

"Why tears?" she asks softly. I see more unshed tears in her eyes as she looks at him adoringly.

I see him take her hand closest and bring their tips to his lips. He answers softly, "For you should have hands that have never had to bare such burdens; I should have been by your side, it would have been my duty and my happiness."

'Your chin sculpted to perfection…your lips, the lips that speak the truth. That speak the words of sympathy, of courage, that gives me the understanding and the comfort I seek. Those are the lips I can never get enough of, when I touch them to mine, I feel that electrical current over load. It creates a balm of tenderness I have never felt before and fires our bond. And your eyes, the abyss of emotion that lays there, the endless sanctity I have longed for. Your eyes bring me salvation, for when I look into them I am free, I am senseless and all there is…is you.'

'You are my Queen and this my manifesto.'

Placing the note aside, she turns fully into his embrace, caressing his face with her hands, she whispers, "…and what is a Queen without her King…my liege?" I see my daughter, lifting herself to where her face meets his, their lips barely touching, she continues, "I am nothing without you and we are nothing without the other."

I leave my daughter, my Teyla, this night to live her life. I am at rest, I know she has found a worthy warrior to keep her safe. Before I fade into nothing to join another plane of existence, I turn away from the couple upon the bed, my intrusion has come to pass. I am complete and she is complete. For all that she has in store for her, I am happy she has someone beside her for each step and I hope they are blessed to carry on that love.

Good bye my love, eternity is far from fiction. These last words spill from his lips as I leave…

The Queen

I have named you queen.

There are taller ones than you, taller.

There are purer ones than you, purer.

There are lovelier than you, lovelier.

But you are the queen.

When you go through the streets

no on recognizes you.

No one sees your crystal crown, no one looks

at the carpet of red gold

that you tread as you pass,

the nonexistent carpet.

And when you appear

all the rivers sound

in my body, bells

shake the sky,

and a hymn fills the world.

Only you and I,

only you and I, my love,

listen to it.

-Pablo Neruda

a)bougie: means candle in french b)hierbas: means herbs in Spanish

I chose these terms in another language because I just wanted to express the difference in terminology and language I wanted to be distinct to the Athosian's in a way.

Unfortunately for me, the print that I used for the letter doesn't come out here and this upsets me a great deal. I feel the magnitude of the words that were written can't be fully appreciated. If you are interested in seeing this in it's original format...please email me and I will send you the original as an attachment.

Please enjoy, and I hope you read it with a clear mind. I hope it wasn't too overtly romantic, meaning I don't want it to see me out of character for any man you chose to be her mate or her ship. So it's open appreciation. I made it a point to keep it open.