Chapter Text
Then.
21-year-old Princess Diana of Themyscira stalked through the woods, hot on her quarry. The tracks lead this way, and beyond these woods were naught but rocks and cliffs and a beach. So long as the lion didn't double back, she'd catch up to it. Hefting her spear in one hand, brushing her long, dark hair out of her blue eyes with the other, she stepped quickly but carefully, with a grace somewhere between a warrior and a dancer. Some plants brushed against her hunting leathers, but she stepped on no leaves and broke no twigs. She had no desire to give her location away. Bits of sunlight pierced through the leaves overhead, bouncing off the bracers she had to wear on her wrists at all times.
Two-thirds into the woods Diana reached a small, grass clearing. The tracks lead there, then vanished. She frowned, kneeling down to examine the ground, to see if she missed something. This was new. She never just lost the lion like this before.
Unless . . . the lion was still nearby!
The woods behind her rustled, and Diana twisted around lightning quick. Too late! A massive white lion lunged at her with a roar! Born of the bloodline of the legendary Nemean Lion, it was larger than a horse, with fur that could deflect swords and arrows. It swatted at Diana's spear with its massive paws, snapping the shaft in half effortlessly. The lion barreled into the princess, knocking her down, pinning her to the ground. It opened its maw, teeth inches from her face!
It then proceeded to slobber her with numerous licks and kitty-kisses, causing Diana to squeal.
"ACK! OKAY! YOU WIN! YOU WIN!" Diana cried out, pushing the lion off her and rolling it onto its back before giving it many belly scratches. "Oh, you've gotten so good at this! Who's the king of the jungle! You are! Yes, you are!"
The great lion purred at the praise, left hind leg kicking in pleasure.
Eventually, Diana let the lion go. That was fun, but . . . well that was the most excitement she was going to get these days. Don't get her wrong, she still enjoyed her combat training but . . . well, just because Diana was good at it didn't mean she wanted to hurt people. There was a limit to what she could do with it. And there was a limit to how fun it could be, given she did it every day.
Diana walked out of the woods. She walked till she reached the cliffs overlooking the beaches, taking a seat upon a large, smooth rock. She sat on that rock a lot lately, hugging one knee into her chest. She stared out at the horizon, listening to the waves crashing against the shore. Same as uncountable days before.
Themyscira. Also known as Paradise Island. Peaceful. Eternal. Unchanging. Kept safe by the blessing of the goddesses. Made free by her queenly mother long ago.
And Diana was bored of it.
"Is there something wrong with me?" Diana asked the goddesses in quiet solitude, as she had done many times before. "I've been given everything . . . yet I want more. Am I just that selfish?" She hugged herself a bit tighter. "Or . . . is it because I was made from clay? Am I . . . missing something? If Mother had a normal child, would they act this way? Think these thoughts?" She had asked these questions many times before. More than once, she actually asked the goddesses in person, on the rare occasions they physically visited.
She didn't get an answer then either.
So, Diana just sat there, watching the tide. It was Themyscira, after all. The perfect place where nothing ever changed.
Until it did.
It started with a roar that made Diana jump to her feet. It was like the thunder of Zeus himself. It was instantly followed by a white flash that blinded her for a second. Diana cried out, blinking the spots away.
Then she saw it.
There, in the blue sky. Flying - no, falling towards the beach.
A flying machine.
Primitive compared to what the Smith-Priestesses of Hephaestus could cook up, but still.
Someone had breached the divine barrier that protected Themyscira from Man's World. Diana gasped. That should not be possible.
The flying machine, the Man's flying machine, crashed on the beach, and Diana did the one thing her mother told her never, ever, ever to do if men arrived once more on the island.
She ran towards it.
Now.
"Are they really made of glass?!" Diana asked him, pointing up at one of Gateway City's many skyscrapers in awe and wonder. Steve Trevor Jr. just smiled at her.
"Glass, steel, concrete." Steve shrugged. "Maybe a few other things. I'm no architect."
Diana looked at him, worry on her face. "But isn't that unsafe? What are they supposed to do in the event of a siege?"
The 21-year-old African American air force test pilot scratched his head. "Ah, people don't really do that anymore, Di."
"Oh." Diana said, mouth rounding cutely. In fact, she did everything cutely. Steve once more thanked whatever lucky star he had that he had been found by the one woman on that island whose first response to seeing a man wasn't "KILL IT!"
He was quoting one of the Amazons, by the way.
Steve and Diana continue to walk towards his apartment in downtown, trying and failing to catch a cab. The streets were busy today, even by port city standards, yet the two of them were barely given a second glance. Sure, Steve wore his Blackhawks pilot jacket, but Diana . . . she wore a fur cloak that hid that crazy armor of hers. She stood out like a sore thumb. People should notice her.
Then again . . . this was Gateway City. The one city in America that could match Metropolis in the weirdness factor. And they didn't even have aliens! At least, Steve was like 90% sure they didn't.
"Oh!" Diana pointed joyfully at a mother with her child. "Steve, look! A baby! I've never seen one!" Steve was going to respond that yes Di, babies are actually quite common here, but he got shoulder-checked by some cameramen running past.
"Hey, watch it you -!" Steve blinked as he watched a mob of cameramen and paparazzi form outside a five-star hotel across the street. (Or was it a swarm? Hive, maybe?) From out of the hotel, flanked by two bodyguards, strutted a thirty-something redhead movie star in a cheetah print coat.
Ah. Priscilla Rich was back in town. Well, that explained the traffic.
"Thank you!" Rich said, blowing kisses to the crowd. "Thank you! Darlings! All of you!"
From across the street, Steve rolled his eyes and mimed a gag. Priscilla Rich was well known for being the fakest person alive, but she was also a Gateway local, born and raised, which basically made her royalty here. They even called her "The Princess of Gateway City" back in the day. Ack.
"Let's get out of here Di - Diana?" Steve turned, realizing his mistake. Sure enough, she was over by the mother and child, gently bouncing the baby up and down in her hands.
"Look at you!" Diana smiled the biggest smile. "You are so beautiful little one! I love you!"
The baby laughed happily, sensing Diana's limitless love and affection on a primal level. The mother, on the other hand, was very confused. She was clearly unsure how to deal with this obviously crazy woman. Mace? A taser, maybe?
Steve ran over, trying not to panic and failing. He gently grabbed the baby, returned them to their mother, grabbed Diana by her shoulders, and pulled her away. "Sorry! Sorry!" He said to the lady. "She's - ah - she doesn't get out much!"
Thankfully, Diana waited till they were a good way away before turning to pout at him. "Why did you do that?"
"You can't just grab babies, Diana!" Steve couldn't believe he had to explain this! "People will think you're going to hurt them!"
Diana gasped, offended. "I would never!" She placed a hand over her heart. "I would lay down my own life to protect an innocent child!"
Steve shook his head. "What am I gonna do with . . . you?" Both Steve and Diana turned their heads towards the hotel. The shouts of excitement . . . had turned to cries of fear.
The crowd had opened up, people running away. Some of the more dedicated paparazzi were still filming and taking pictures. Rich's guards were on the ground, while Rich herself was on her knees, bound in some sort of high-tech rope. Around her stood three men and one woman, all of them wearing advance power armor.
"People of Gateway City!" The woman shouted. "Priscilla Rich is now the property of the Fearsome Hand of Four! If you want to see her again, pay use one billion dollars at this address -!"
Not good. The Four made up the top half of Gateway City's top ten most wanted. Supervillains for hire; assassins, kidnappers, whatever they're paid to do. One of Rich's many enemies must have finally gotten sick of her. Steve tried to grab Diana. They had to get out of here!
A large fur cloak hit him in the face.
Steve pulled the cloak off . . . and saw Diana flying at the Four.
He wondered if maybe he should have just stayed on that island.