The Knight and the Amazon

3

She gasped awake, eyes wide, breath uneven. Her body felt sticky with sweat and the sheets had tangled in her legs. She thought she might have screamed, her throat felt particularly drier than earlier.

"Are you alright?"

Though the man wasn't in the room, he still stood behind a half-opened door. Staring again. The rise of annoyance returned and she focused everything on that. How long had he been watching her sleep? Without her invitation, he entered and closed the door behind. For the first time that day –had it been a day? How long had she been sleeping anyway? The bowl and the trail had been taken and the light seemed to have dimmed, so mid to late afternoon? –she realized how tall and large he was. Perhaps her hazy mind was playing tricks on her, but he did feel like a looming monster when he stepped closer.

Stop thinking of him like the enemy, she scolded her brain. He hadn't done anything to earn your animosity yet.

"Here, I brought you this." He handed her a notepad and a what seemed to be a pen. She stared at the two elements at loss at what to do. This was not what she had expected from him. "If we need to communicate, we better use this to spare your voice." Pause. "You do know how to write?"

That was actually…not a bad idea. She couldn't recall encountering such material before –the too smooth-looking pages, the odd-looking pencil- but she blamed her faulty memory. She hesitantly took the two objects and wrote down, with a light tremor in her hand:

'Yes'

The man seemed amused by her cautiousness towards him, which infuriated her even more. She couldn't wait to regain full control of her legs and get out of his house.

"A friend will come to check on your injuries a little later." Her puzzlement must have shown, as he added: "You were in a very bad shape, but you healed incredibly fast." He sat on the mattress, close to her. She tensed at his proximity but forced herself to stand still. He would not hurt her, she chanted inwardly, if he had wanted to, he would have done it long before. "You will be fine," he added on a softer tone but made no move to get closer. "Wherever you came from, you're safe here."

Though his eyes were still distant, he sounded genuine. She was briefly tempted to demand if they were acquainted but figured he would have used her name had it been the case. Speaking of which…

'What is your name?'

The man barely lifted the corner of his mouth. She assumed that was the closest thing to a smile she'd get from him.

"Bruce. What's yours?"

Her shoulders sagged and she looked away. Her fingers tightened around the pen as she wrote her answer:

'I don't know.'

He looked thoughtful for a second.

"It's not…Aurora, right?" She raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "No, never mind." Pause. "It isn't?"

She shook her head. While she couldn't recall her name, she was rather certain Aurora wasn't it.

'Why? Is she an acquaintance of yours?'

"No, it's nothing. My ward is having odd ideas." His ward? "My son, Richard." He added as he must have sensed her confusion. "You will meet him later, he lives here. My butler too. They're good people." He paused, and for a brief moment there was nothing but silence between them. Not quite uncomfortable, but not exactly constructive. A lot of questions were running through her mind but she couldn't ask them and writing them down would take too long. He broke the silence once again.

"Do you…do you remember how you came here? Where you got your injuries?"

He kept mentioning injuries, but she had none. All she knew was the soreness of her body earlier, the weakness in her legs and the dream…

Gods, that dream…

"Miss?"

The man –Bruce –hadn't moved, but his scrutiny made her shiver. She wrapped her arms around herself in a self-hug, suddenly feeling cold and lonely. She hated showing vulnerability in front of a complete stranger, but her patience was wearing thin. She was scared, she was weak, she needed…

"What are your bracelets for?"

…a distraction. She desperately needed a distraction.

"Miss, you're with me?"

What was his former question? The bracelets, right. She let her fingers trail down their smooth and strong form. They were there, as if they had always been there, a comfort, a reassuring weight. Plain but soft to touch, strong and fitting her forearms perfectly.

'I don't know where they are from.'

And she had no intention of removing them.

"Are you hungry? Do you need to use the bathroom? I can carry you there; you should be strong enough to handle yourself once inside." She contemplated his sudden shift of questioning. Was he asking out of concern or had he decided probing for answers she couldn't give was a waste of time? She couldn't sense any will to deceive, but with a man, one never knew.

Stop thinking like that, she chided herself irritated again. Only time would tell whether his intentions were noble or not. In the meantime, she might as well take advantage of his offered hospitality. After all, she stunk and desperately needed a wash.

'Bathroom please.'

TKATA

Trust had to start somewhere, and Bruce knew he'd have to be patient. The woman appeared to be clueless as to her origins and obviously didn't know how to deal with him.

That made two of them, he thought ironically as he waited outside the bathroom. He had carried her inside earlier, managing to ignore the softness of her curves pressed against him. He had set her on a plastic stool and quickly demonstrated how to use the shower. Her eyes had widened comically and her jaw had dropped, as if she had been facing an artifact from another world.

Had she never seen a shower? That would reduce the number of regions where she had come from, if she were from earth. He thought back to the depth of the crater, figured that while she must have fallen from high up, a drop from outer space would have caused a lot more damage. Then there was this story of the column of flames in Europe. He would bet both the woman's crashing and its apparition were related somehow. A quick check of his watch informed him the clock was ticking close to six; John and Shayera must have returned to the Watchtower by now. If Clark had held onto his word, the reports would soon come in.

A soft knock brought him back to reality.

"I'm here," he announced and stepped back in time as the door opened.

For a brief second, his brain stopped functioning. The woman hadn't dried her hair, hadn't put on her clothes, but had wrapped herself in the big fluffy towel and her skin was still glistering with humidity. Her face was flush with warmth from the shower, her expression hesitant. He stared at the vision, speechless, and it took him longer than he'd ever admit to recover.

"Ye-" he started but his voice was far too coarse. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Yes?"

The damn woman smirked, aware of her effect on him. She handed him a piece of paper: 'Clothes soaked. Can I have others?'

He definitively did not imagine her wearing wet clothes and how they would cling to her body.

"Sure. Wait here, I'll be back."

He did not storm out of the room. He did not forget to close the door on his way out. And he definitively did not nearly knock into Dick and Alfred on his way.

"Someone's in a hurry," his ward noted and raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Everything's fine?"

Dick had been coming and going to get some news all day long. He had asked Alfred to make up something sweet in case she was hungry again –sugar to keep the energy up. In typical Alfred fashion, the butler had baked cookies of his secret recipe, nothing less than perfect, for their guest.

"Yes," he grunted, annoyed. Now if Dick could get out of the way so he could fulfill his mission…

"So why do you look like you –oh hi there!"

Bruce turned around. The woman had ignored his order to stand still and had followed him in the corridor. In plain view of Dick and Alfred. Still in her towel and dripping on the carpet. She offered Dick a cautious smile; Bruce tried not to feel jealous –he had been welcomed with nothing but glares. The young man grinned, unashamed to check her out.

"It's good to see you awake, Miss. You need new clothes?" A nod. "You're about my size; I'll fetch some. Care to wait for a sec?" Another nod.

Alfred had not blinked once, but Bruce knew he was far from indifferent. He had brought many models and drop-dead gorgeous women, his butler had seen quite a few in many state of dress –or in this case, undress. And yet, none measured up to Diana's natural beauty.

"Would you please return to the room?" Bruce muttered, wanting nothing more but to facepalm in embarrassment. The woman ignored him again –shocker –and glanced with interest at what Alfred held in his hands. She made the universal gesture for 'may I' and, upon authorization, picked a freshly backed cookie. Her face split into a delighted smile after the first bite. The butler stood a little straighter. If Bruce dared, he'd say the old man was preening.

"I'm glad you appreciate this, Miss."

"Here comes the shipment!" Dick announced enthusiastically. He had returned with several shirts-including a white one, and two sweatpants. "I found leggings that use to belong to Barbs."

"You keep Barbara's clothes in your closet?" Bruce inquired suspiciously.

"Must have been a laundry mix-up," he shrugged unapologetically before handing the clothes to her. "I hope they fit."

The woman took them with a small smile and stole another cookie before finally returning to her room. She wasn't quite stable, her legs clumsily putting a foot ahead of the other, but her pride wouldn't let her lean against the wall. Bruce bit back a sigh and made to follow before he remembered something:

"Leslie will be stopping by in an hour or so. Lead her here when she arrives."

"Still not calling in the League?"

A blatant glare was Dick's answer. Bruce took a few extra cookies for the woman -and one for him, but Alfred didn't need to know that- and hurried to join her.

TKATA

"Open your mouth for me please."

She eyed the older woman with slight distrust before complying. Leslie thanked her and with a light stick, explored the cavity of her mouth.

"No visible inflammation. Do you still have trouble speaking?" She nodded. "Does it hurt if I press here?" she brought her fingers over her throat and touched a bandaged zone. No pain whatsoever. She shook her head. "Good. You're not swelled, no fever…" Her eyes lingered on her bare arms. "No more burns. It is impressive Miss."

She had no idea why her apparent fast healing was impressive, but she nodded thanks anyway. Leslie put back the off series of metallic artifacts she had used to examine her back in her bag.

"I'll have a word with Bruce about strenuous activity, but as far as I can say, you should be completely recovered by tomorrow night." The older woman put a hand over her shoulder. "Don't worry sweetheart, the boys will take care of you. It may not seem like it, but Bruce has a golden heart. He'll help you figure out where you come from."

She lowered her head enough for her hair to stumble over her shoulders. Leslie had kind eyes, spoke softly and asked permission to touch before performing her healing. She was a 'doctor', one Bruce had called for when she had been found covered with injuries. Someone he trusted. It sounded odd, to have a man in his thirties trust a woman. To see a man trust a woman at all, to consider her an equal and not a subject, was odd. She wondered if he'd come to trust her too, if she stayed long enough, and how it would feel to trust him in return.

Trust a man? Pah!

'Thank you', she wrote on her notebook. It was now covered with black scribbling and crossed words as conversations had gone. The clothes leant by Bruce's ward –Dick, a very odd nickname for a man –did fit her. The shoulders were slightly broader than hers and the bottoms would easily slip down her waist if not for the strings inside. Leslie left soon after. She stood shakily on her legs and toddled towards the window. Outside, the gardens were a vibrant green in spite of the lowering sunlight. Everything was so peaceful, so quiet…she narrowed her eyes as she spotted a big dump of earth arranged in a sort of circle. She hadn't noticed it earlier but now it stood like a sore thumb out of the ground.

"Damn Miss, those clothes suit you better than me."

She turned around, slightly surprised when she saw both Bruce and Dick enter the room. While she still felt uneasy with the older man, the younger one seemed somehow more…approachable. His eyes didn't hold as much distance as his elder; his smile was quick but sincere. She might end up liking him, even though he was still a man.

"Do you need to rest?" Bruce asked in his customary detached tone. She shook her head. She was tired of lying in bed. Perhaps she could ask for a walk in the gardens later…

"It's pretty out there eh?"

Dick's comment reminded her of the weird dump. Curiosity took over wariness and she picked up her notebook.

'What happened?' she scribed and pointed at the spot. The two men peeked through the window in turn.

"You happened." Bruce informed her. At her puzzled stare, he explained: "We found you down there. You crashed in my lawn, I still have no idea why or how."

Well, neither did she.

'Is it a regular occurrence? People crashing in your lawn?' she inquired.

Dick snorted and turned away to hide his laughs. Bruce cringed.

"Not exactly. The most impressive here is you survival." Once again, she felt confused. "Normal human beings don't survive falling from the sky. Either you are metahuman, or an alien."

The more he spoke, the less she understood. He tried again:

"We are…never mind, you'll figure that one out eventually."

She stared, pensively. Then she wrote down:

'You are men, I'm a woman. Of course we are different. What is an alien?'

"Kill me now," he muttered exasperatedly. She tensed, worried. Was her incomprehension a mortal danger to him? "It's an expression!" he added quickly.

Then she realized Dick hadn't stopped snickering at his elder. Making fun of his flustered state. She frowned, intrigued by their behavior. She didn't truly believe destroying one's garden was a normal occurrence, but given the circumstances of her arrival…she didn't understand why Bruce would be the subject of mockeries. Or perhaps was Dick mocking his uneasiness, or the absurd nature of her questions? She supposed it might be funny from his point of view.

"An alien is someone that doesn't live on earth, but comes crashing from another planet," Bruce eventually said. He still sounded annoyed, but not overly so. "Anything else?"

She shook her head,

"You're from earth?" Dick asked in turn.

'I might be' she replied, but she wasn't very sure. Earth wasn't the right word. Something about men…Men's World? Patriarch's World? Yes, that one. Patriarch's World. She was in Patriarch's World. The thought gave her an unexpected shiver, like she had just transgressed a sacred rule. Like…she wasn't supposed to be here.

"Miss?"

Both men were contemplating her in various degrees of worry and suspicion. She offered them a smile and looked back outside. All she had right now were instincts and impressions; she didn't want to say anything until she was certain…Her legs felt weak again. As if sensing the shift of strength, Bruce offered her his elbow to lean against. After a quick inner debate, she accepted his help and slowly moved to sit on the bed. Dick gave her a look of sympathy but didn't try to help. She appreciated that too.

"While we're here, we brought you this."

Dick set a bag on the covers next to her. Curiosity demanded she peeked inside, so she did. A bunch of fabrics –clothes, she realizes –were neatly folded at the bottom.

"You were wearing this when we found you." The two men exchanged another quick glance. "We hope it'll trigger a memory."

She took the clothes and laid them on the side. A red corset. Blue panties. Red boots. A golden breastplate. A golden crown with a red star. What were those? Did she really wear them? She shook her head in defeat.

"It's alright, it'll come back eventually," Dick said reassuringly. "Are you hungry?"

She wondered if asking for more of those cookies would be rude.

"Alfred made plenty of them," Bruce inputted with a smirk. "He knows they never last long, especially with Dick around."

Dick pulled his tongue. Her cheeks turned crimson at how Bruce had easily read her thoughts.

"I know what Leslie said about exhausting yourself," he went on, ignoring her embarrassment. "But would you like to go to the gardens?"