Home Again
New York
Mordred drifted in and out of consciousness. He knew the general outline of the old room; its vaulted ceilings and dark plaster walls were burned into his memory by now. The bed was huge, deceivingly old, yet of the strongest steel. Candles were the only illumination and they were everywhere. The closed in room seemed to magnify their heat. Sweat dripped from every part of his body. Exotic incense wafted through the air, mixing with the fragrances of human bodies and sex. Despite his protests, Mordred's wrists and ankles were firmly tied to the bedposts. Again appearances were deceiving, as the silken strips refused to give under his exertion. His mother knew exactly how this had to be done. Some arcane incantation imbued the silken bonds with tensile strength of titanium. He wasn't going anywhere.
It was a role she was born to, the temptress, the seductress and the dominatrix. Camelot had fallen because of her skill and the years had done nothing to lessen their affect. A pale pink silk blindfold covered his eyes, blinding him completely. She took special care each time not to provoke the Golden Lady inside of him. It was torture, plain and simple, but oh what exquisite torture she performed. Pleasure pushed beyond its limits slowly turned into pain. How many times she had taken him just to the edge, to where he was almost about to fall over the cliff and then snacked him back? Every muscle in his body screamed for the release that she wouldn't grant him.
Exhaustion lingered over him, his breathing labored. He could feel the so very soft sheets against his sweat soaked skin. They gave no comfort and only added to the velvet snare she'd constructed. He licked his lips nervously and tasted the feminine flavor of lipstick. Mordred felt very vulnerable, naked, bound and blinded, awaiting her return. He had no idea how long he'd been trussed up like this, as nights and days blending together into an erotic, torturous haze.
Suddenly Mordred heard the door open again. He strained his ears for the slightest noise, painfully aware of the sound of his own thumping heart. He could just make out the soft click of her high heels against the wooden floor. He shifted uneasily, feeling the silk of his bonds rubbing against him.
"Morgaine?" he whispered, his voice cracking with apprehension and just a bit of fear. She did not reply, but gently placed a single finger on Mordred's lips to silence him. The finger slid slowly off Mordred's lips, and ran casually over his chin, down his neck and chest. She used just her fingertips, yet with the blindfold on it heightened every sensation. Her fingers continued over the flat plains of his chest and muscled stomach, then slipped torturously down, down, down, down his body. Mordred shuddered at the erotic touch, astonishingly aroused by the caress of just her fingertips.
Morgaine sat on the end of the bed, and began to stroke her helpless prize. She was pleased to see the effect that her touch had on him. She was like the finest craftsman in that she thoroughly enjoyed her work. The punishment phase of this was almost over and she was beginning the process of breaking him to her will. Morgaine's lips parted in a wanton smile as she looked down at his defenseless body. He was so handsome laid out before her, she thought. He would surrender just as so many had before. Arthur had tried to resist too. Like father, like son she supposed. There had been so many others, including Jason Blood. Even the great Merlin had felt the sway of her charms. In the end she always got what she wanted.
This was different, though. Mordred wasn't just another conquest. A hunger burned within her creating a desire for him like none before. Nothing in all her years prepared her for this. His betrayal hurt more than she could imagine, yet the desire for him remained. She was so careful not to cause another manifestation of the power inside of him. She had to maintain control, but it was so tempting to push him just a little bit further with each session. Her fingertips slipped just a bit lower. He couldn't help the groan that escaped his lips. She teased and toyed with him, stroking just the tip and bringing him to full attention.
"Morgaine, please!" He gasped, desperate for relief. She didn't reply, just slowly continued what she as doing. She understood this was a game and like every game there could only be one winner. She had no doubt it would be her. Her fingers continued, while she leaned closer. He flinched at the feel of her cool breath against his skin. Extending her tongue, she slowly ran it along his throat bringing another groan from his lips. He tasted like tears and she savored the flavor.
Mordred's head turned as he felt the bed shift under him. Swallowing nervously, he couldn't stand the anticipation of what she would do next. He had thought he better than anyone knew what she was capable of, but he'd been sadly mistaken. His body stiffened as he felt her slip her leg over his and position herself against his upper thigh. He could feel the tops of her stockings and the garters they were attached to against him. A mental picture of her came into his mind of what she must look like and how she was attired. She would be all in white loving the irony of it. The lingerie designed more to reveal and tease then cover. The gossamer texture of the intimate apparel would seem to be perfect for its mission, both sculpting and enhancing her every luscious curve.
Fresh beads of sweat broke out on his brow, his own imagination betraying him. Without the use of his eyes, his other senses seemed to be on overload. His mouth watered as he inhaled just a hint of her perfume. His ears picked up the low purr coming from her full lips as she slid herself against his thigh. The material of her panties against his skin, so thin, yet a barrier between them. He felt the hairs on his leg stand at attention. She shifted position again and was now straddling him. Her fingertips pressed him against her center and her hips began to move ever so slowly. A low, satisfied moan came from her and seemed to reverberate in his ears.
'Mother!" He gasped, but instantly knew that was the wrong thing to say. Hot wax dripped on his bare chest and he sucked in his breath against the shock of it.
"You broke rule one,' she whispered. "You will have to punished."
More wax drizzled down his body. Lower and lower she went and he held his breath in fear of where she would stop. Rule one was never call her mother. When this had first started he'd broke in repeatedly in defiance. His bravado and ego wouldn't let him admit the true nature of their relationship. Countless, torturous hours later he understood. She was master here and he was her slave. Lovers yes, but only on Morgaine's terms. The letters B and D and S and M took on a whole new meaning for Mordred. The wax wouldn't leave a mark, but each drip as a shock to his system. He could feel the hot liquid splash against his skin and the roll off to the side, cooling the whole way. He couldn't help wincing just a bit, but her fingers resumed their teasing and the wince turned into a groan.
Morgaine smiled broadly as Mordred let out a moan of pleasure, and began to move almost unconsciously against her fingers. Slowly she leaned down, brushing ever so slightly against him as if to trace the outline of her body against him. She wanted the image of the silken lingerie that covered her body burned into his brain. Leaning over, she kissed him with her full luscious lips.
Gently at first, but then more demanding, finally pushing her tongue through the still slightly unwilling lips. Morgaine enjoyed the slight resistance that he offered. Even now, Mordred had not fully accepted his new role, but that just made the victory all the sweeter. Morgaine slipped her hand back to his shaft and pressed it once again to her center as her hips slowly began to move. A smile crossed her lips at his quick response to her ministrations.
Mordred was finding it increasingly difficult to avoid responding to her touch. He groaned and squirmed as her hands moved again between his legs, spreading them further apart, all the while massaging his manhood against the front of her silk panties. He let out a slight cry, as her body seemed to surround him and glide up and down in at excruciatingly slow rhythm. It was a deliberate tease, but he was helpless against it.
Mordred bucked his hips desperately trying to satisfy his growing desires. Morgaine wanted to laugh out loud as he saw Mordred overwhelmed by the desires of his body. The feeling was driving him mad with need, and only her leaning over to kiss his lips prevented him from begging Morgaine to hurry. He strained against his bindings. Morgaine continued to toy with him for a moment, enjoying the sensations it was creating inside her almost as much as what it was doing to him. She felt the rising heat stream through her body and picked up the pace. Like some sensual belly dancer she moved her hips, never breaking contact with his fully erect shaft.
His body was crying out for satisfaction, and his body strained against his bonds. Morgaine leaned forward, pressing her silken covered breasts against his chest and stroking her free hand all over his body. The angle shifted as well, bringing the contact between their lower halves even closer. The delicate silk of his blindfold took away his sight, but that just seemed to enhance the feelings coming from her female body. His entire being became focused on the feelings of Morgaine's hands and breasts, and his organ pulsed and throbbed.
He willingly kissed her now, no longer able to fight her for dominance. He wanted to resist, denying her what she most wanted, but the sensations were just too overwhelming. He desperately tried to think of something to take his mind off this exquisite torture and the first thing that popped into his head was the young woman in black. He had only seen her on the television yet he felt they had a connection. Even as this thought came to him, Morgaine's attentions intruded. He found himself fantasizing about being with the young woman in black, then chided himself for such thoughts. He wouldn't sully her with these carnal desires.
He was from a time when women were thought of as either Madonna or harlot. What was happening in this room was no place for the young woman in black. The dark, wanton feelings and desires belong to someone else, Morgaine. He felt ashamed that he couldn't resist her, but the feelings were just too tantalizing. Base, primal hungers rushed through him and he no longer wanted to resist.
Faster and faster she pushed him. Her own sex leaking copiously as she rode against him hard and never gave him a respite. Her lips seemed to be everywhere and when they returned to his mouth, Mordred willing accepted her kisses and returned them with equal arousal. He was so close now.
"Please, Morgaine, don't stop!" He begged. All his pride and will were gone. His whole world became her body against his. He was rushing towards the cliff and only she could stop him from plunging over the edge.
She had no intention of stopping this time. Her own climax was rapidly building as she worked her hips even faster. Her lips engulfed his in a mad, passionate, possessive kiss, as she writhed against him working him into a frenzy. He was hers now. She had pushed him further and further until he was at the point of no return. She was transformed from his torturer into his savior. His salvation rested in her hands alone. She was the master of this world and he was her willing slave.
With one more sensual stroke of her body against his, Morgaine felt her climax begin. She pressed hard against him, as her body vibrated with the sensations. Mordred almost couldn't believe it when it happened. He was so enthralled with the feelings he was experience, yet apprehensive that she would stop any moment now. It was the pattern of all the previous encounters. This time was different. His muscles strained as closer and closer as he got to the edge.
"No, no, no, no, don't stop, please, don't stop,' he babbled. He felt no shame or humiliation; she had driven him far beyond that. She was dangling him over the edge. His whole world had been reduced to a pinhole's focus. His release was all that mattered. Honor, pride, integrity and morals they were just words without meaning to him. He would have sworn allegiance to anything or anyone, condemned the most innocent soul to everlasting torment if it meant completion. He was the sinner down on his knees begging for salvation. In that moment he knew she was the only one that could grant it. Morgaine was the absolute power in his small little world of the room.
She rode out the wave of her climax. Her breath was coming fast and hot. Morgaine reached over to the table next to the bed and plucked one of the candles from the holder. Leaning down close to his ear, she could feel him trembling against her.
"I grant you permission, Mordred, now,' she whispered. As she did, her hand tipped the candle to the side and the hot wax dripped down on his chest. It was that last shove that pushed him over the edge. His body lifted off the bed carrying her with it. He screamed like never before as the long delayed moment finally arrived. The hours and days of frustration took their toll and even in release the pleasure was mixed with pain. This was her gift to him and in that moment he loved her like no other.
"Yes!" He screamed, as tears of joy soaked the silk blindfold. His mind suddenly seemed to pull in on itself and the world went out of focus to his senses. Coherent thoughts were lost as the dizzying rush of acute awareness to every feeling his body was experiencing. He was part of the infinity of the moment.
Mordred must have blacked out, for when he connected with the world again, he was utterly drained by the physical and emotional stress, and lay motionless. His naked body was beaded with hot sweat and cool wax, while the echoes of the passion still ran through his system
The bed moved slightly as Morgaine slipped off of him. He dimly heard the soft scrape of cloth against skin, but was too taxed to even wonder what it was. Soft fingers reached up, and ran slowly over his lips, before gently removing the blindfold. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust. As they did, he saw Morgaine had removed her damp panties and was releasing the catch on her brassiere. She turned towards him wearing only her garter belt. He felt his mouth salivate at the sight of her loveliness.
"Did we enjoy ourselves?" she asked mischievously. Mordred flushed with embarrassment as he realized that his was still tied naked to the bed.
"Do you think you could untie me now?" Mordred managed to say. "Please?"
"Maybe later," she replied as she slowly moved back towards the bed.
Fawcett City
Circe wasn't satisfied. Her revenge on the Amazons didn't feel complete. Hippolyta had disappeared, but that offered no closure. She wanted to see her dead body lying in the street. Only then would she be satisfied. Hippolyta was gone for now, that meant Circe could turn her eye to the original Wonder Woman, Diana. If she happened to have a chance to deal with the younger one Donna, so much the better. Cut off the head of the snake and the body dies. The Amazons were fierce warriors, but like all militaristic societies it was based on a chain of command. It was a pyramid with the royal family at the top. With them out of the way, the very structure of the Amazon society would be thrown into chaos.
Circe needed a vessel for her plans if she were going to stay hidden. Young Mary had worked out so well, but now it seemed she was resisting Circe's influence. She couldn't get into Mary's mind to manipulate her so she needed another. Thankfully the gifts coming from Mary's transformation never seemed to stop. She might be resistant to Circe's persuasions, but now she had shared her new found power with another.
Billy Batson.
Even from this distance Circe could feel his emotional turmoil. He wasn't as powerful as Mary, but he would certainly do the job. Circe almost licked her lips at the thought of it. If he helped her kill Diana he truly would be a marvel in Circe's book.
Themyscira
The journey through time had brought Hippolyta to the place she most wanted to be and at the same time the place she didn't. Themyscira, she never thought she would see the island again. Perhaps it was fitting, she thought, for her daughter should be born here of all places. She smiled as she lightly ran her hand over her round belly. The time was so near, it could happen any moment now. The last nine months despite all the chaos of the time jumps had been the happiest of Hippolyta's life. Each day she would wake to the sensation of life growing inside of her. She had prayed for countless centuries for this and had almost given up hope. The Gods had granted her Diana, but there was still a small part of her that wanted more.
It was strange, Hippolyta thought, for she found as she thought back on the night of Diana's creation, she couldn't seem to remember all the details. It was the most important night of her life, yet they seemed out of focus now. Perhaps it was the jumps in time that had caused this. Another kick from the baby stopped her from pursuing this line of thought. She'd going to be a fighter, this one, Hippolyta thought to herself with a smile.
Movement to her right caught Hippolyta's attention. She stood completely still not wanting anyone to know she was here. Her presence could have impact on the timeline if she was discovered. As difficult as it was to move being nine months pregnant, Hippolyta had made her way to the far side of the island. The patrols were minimal and few of her sisters ventured to this part of the island at night. As she waited, she tried to see whom it was that ventured out alone. Hippolyta had seen a patrol earlier and they always traveled in pairs. The person was heading towards the beach and after a few moments curiosity got the best of Hippolyta and she followed.
The figure began to build a bonfire and there was something so familiar about it to Hippolyta. As she watched the figure work, she occasionally looked around at the night sky. It was so familiar. When the figure finally lit the fire it instantly became apparent why. The figure was Hippolyta or more specifically, a younger version of her. This had been her ritual for countless years; she would come to this deserted spot and pray to the Gods for a child. She even fashioned babies out of clay and hoped the Gods would animate it. She had been so despondent that she would try anything.
It was like watching someone she only vaguely recognized anymore. The time traveling Hippolyta felt the longing and desperation of her counterpart. She wanted to go down to her and tell her how wonderful things were going to be in just a short time, but she knew she couldn't. A tear rolled down her face as she watched the young version fashion a child out of clay and then begin to pray to the Gods.
The first contraction caught Hippolyta completely off guard. She had to bite her lip to stop from calling out. No, no, no, she thought, it can't be happening now!
"It's time, Hippolyta." A soft, sultry voice said to her. As she turned she saw Aphrodite standing next to her.
"Goddess,' Hippolyta immediately replied and then tried to bow.
"I think we can forgo the formalities this time, Hippolyta,' Aphrodite said an amused laugh.
"Who's there?" A voice called out from the beach.
"No, no, no, she can't know I'm here,' Hippolyta frantically whispered.
"Yes, she can,' Aphrodite replied. "You will need help having this baby and who better than yourself?"
Hippolyta continued to protest that it wasn't right, but it soon became moot when her younger version of charged upon them.
"Goddess!" The younger version immediately said and dropped to her knee.
"Boy, you are really good at that,' Aphrodite observed in passing. "Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons, tonight you have a great duty to perform."
"I'm am at your service, Goddess, now and always,' the younger version replied. While still on bended knee she couldn't help taking a quick glance at the other woman with Aphrodite. This caused her to gasp in shock at it was as if she were looking in a mirror.
"Goddess?'
"Yes, Hippolyta, this is you,' Aphrodite said, putting her arm around the pregnant Hippolyta. "Or more accurately, a future you."
"But-But-But she's pregnant,' the young version gasped.
"Yes and she is going to have that child tonight,' Aphrodite explained. "You must help her or better yet, you must help yourself."
The older version was about to protest that this didn't seem right, but another contraction cut this off.
"We must get you down to the beach," Aphrodite said and began to gently lead her towards the water. The younger version of Hippolyta stood in stunned silence for a moment as everything seemed to come crashing down on her. That was her the Goddess was helping and she was pregnant. It suddenly hit her that her prayers were being answered; she was going to be a mother.
"I'm having a baby,' she whispered and the rushed forward to help her pregnant self to the beach.
The Watchtower
A meeting of the senior members was underway when the doors flew open and Kara came marching in.
"Where's Clark?" She demanded.
"Kara, we're not sure,' Jonn replied.
"What do you mean you're not sure? My cousin disappears while I'm on a mission and when I get back you can only say you're not sure?" Kara shouted. "We've got to find him!"
"Kara." It was Diana speaking as she entered the room. Everyone turned towards her. Artemis stood just behind her. "We will find Kal and my mother too, I promise you that."
"Well, at least tell me what happened to them?'
"Someone was manipulating Mary and there was an energy beam,' Dinah began. "I was given a warning and acted. We think my scream mixed with the energy beam created a portal in time which Hippolyta and Clark were drawn into. We've since had memories of Hippolyta in the 1940's and even a few in the 60's that weren't there before."
"But what about Clark?" Kara demanded.
The others looked at each other, not sure how to reply.
"Nothing so far, Kara, but we won't stop looking until we find him,' Diana said. "There is another matter that needs our attention and it is why I'm here. Someone did this and they are still out there, so they might try again."
"But we haven't found any evidence on who is behind this, Diana,' Wally offered.
"I believe I know who is behind this,' Diana replied. "I've been going over everything that has happened. My mother was manipulated to get her off the island. Someone used the Oracle in this so it must be someone powerful. They must also have something personal with my mother and that adds up to Circe. She's forbidden to attack Themyscira, but if she could get my mother off the island she could strike."
"Well, let's go kick her ass!" Kara said.
"I like the way she thinks,' Artemis observed.
"Yes, I like that plan too, but we have to find Circe first,' Diana replied.
"She could be anywhere by now,' Wally suggested.
"Right, where do we even start to look?' Dinah asked.
"Circe used Mary once,' Diana replied. "She's too tempting not to use again. Wherever Mary Marvel is, Circe is bound to be close by."
"Okay, let's find Mary and kick Circe's ass!" Kara shouted. She turned and started for the door. "Let's go!"
"I really like her attitude,' Artemis said. "Are you sure she's not a Bana instead of a Kryptonian?"
"We should contact Batman and let him know of the situation,' Jonn suggested.
"You do that, Jonn,' Diana replied. "He can catch up if he wants. I'm not waiting."
Fawcett City
Circe's plan was to get Billy to go after Mary. She knew the young woman was starting a search for the other person that had been hit by the energy like she had. Since Circe knew that was Mordred it worked out perfectly. Her sometime ally, Morgaine seemed to have abandoned thoughts of revenge in favor of playing with her lover. Circe wasn't going to let her off that easy. If she wouldn't help her kill Wonder Woman willingly, she would force her. The Justice League and Diana had by now probably figured out that someone had manipulated Mary. They would be seeking her out for more answers. That would lead them right to Morgaine and Mordred. Morgaine might be unreliable, but she was still formidable. In the ensuing struggle, Diana would be vulnerable and that would be when Circe would strike.
Billy didn't possess as much power as Mary, but with a little help he should have enough to kill Diana and maybe several others. The trick was getting him to willingly go to New York to find his sister. For this, Circe would use the same tactic as she had with Hippolyta. She would add a new twist to take advantage of modern technology.
Krypton
Clark had leapt through time several more times and in the process had been able to watch Kryptonian society advance and evolve. He knew he should get back to his own time as soon as possible, but the lure of this was so tantalizing. He'd built a monument to his home world in the Fortress, but it was a museum while this was real. He was like an anthropologist suddenly given the opportunity to actually experience the long dead culture he'd only known through fragments and artifacts. For as identified as Clark was with Krypton he had no real memories of his own about it. He could relate every detail of the main city, but he couldn't tell you what it smelled like after it rained. He couldn't tell you what made his people laugh or cry. He could only guess at the beautiful of Kryptonian woman or even something as small as how they flirted. His was the knowledge of the photograph, a flat image of things he'd never experienced. Suddenly he had the opportunity to change that.
He knew he shouldn't delay, but as he stood looking at the magnificent buildings all around him, he couldn't help wondering if it couldn't wait. What did he really have to rush back for, he wondered? Yes, he had his friends and family, but wouldn't they understand why he delayed? Kara was his only real blood relative and she was a young woman on her own now. She didn't need him like she had when she'd first arrived. In many ways she'd adapted better than he had to Earth.
His job? Yes, he did important things as both reporter and hero, but it wasn't like there weren't others doing it as well. He wasn't the only hero and being a newspaper reporter was rapidly becoming an endangered species. There was nothing urgent there to rush back to.
His personal life was another matter. Frankly if he was being honest with himself, he'd made a complete mess of that. Dinah had seemed like such an interesting possibility, but he'd ruined that by sleeping with Hippolyta. He couldn't just expect her to let that go. In fact if she never wanted to see him again, he couldn't blame her. Then there was Hippolyta. He didn't know what happened to her once she entered the portal, but if it was similar to what he was experiencing she was moving through time too. It seemed her fate had changed again. She would get back to their present and then what would there be between them? She was the Queen of the Amazons no matter what might have changed recently. How would she or even would she be interested in pursuing a relationship once she went back to the island? How would the other Amazons react to that? Part of Clark suspected that the only reason they'd been together was because she believed she was going to die. That colored every decision she made including being with him.
Against all that there was the world right in front of him. His world, one he never believed he would ever see. As he moved forward in time there as a chance he might see the two people he never thought he would see outside of holograms, his parents, Jor-El and Lara. They wouldn't just be constructs from a computer, but actually alive and real. Like anyone that has lost a parent at a very young age, what wouldn't you give to see him or her alive once more? The temptation to actually look them in the eyes just once was too much for Clark. So he fought the jumps in time, slowing his ascent so he might have just a few more moments on this lost world.
Fawcett City
Billy sat on the couch just staring at the static of a dead channel on the television. Mary had left for New York, but he felt paralyzed to move. The transformation into an adult had thrown his world into chaos. He wasn't sure how to act or what to do. As Captain Marvel or as just Billy he knew how things were supposed to be. Now he wasn't either. Like many young men he resisted the natural course of life and the inevitable shift from adolescences to adulthood. In many ways it's a fear of responsibility and also the fear that your life as the central focus is over. The idea of being an adult and perhaps getting married and starting a family is such a sea change that even those that have made the leap find it difficult. It seems as if the carefree days are over. It's an illusion really, but you can hear it in the voices of married men when they speak of their bachelor days. The rose colored glasses come out and everything seemed so much simpler and easy back then.
For Billy this had been something he'd been resisting even thinking about. Now it had been thrust on him in one frightening moment. He was lost as to what his next step should be. He was like a young Amish man who's been living outside of the community. Suddenly he has gotten an Amish young woman pregnant. Now it seems he has two choices, marry her and rejoin the tribe or be shunned for all time. An almost paralyzing fear sets in, as he knew this is the most important decision of his life. Everything changes with this decision.
"Billy." A deep, resonating voice that seemed far away reached Billy's ears. He glanced around but didn't see anyone.
"Billy." The voice came again.
"Who's there?" He asked, still seeing no one.
"I thought you were a hero, Billy?"
"I was,' he replied. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw something on the television. It was just the vague impression, but it was as if something or someone was there.
"Shazam?" He asked.
It was just a briefest of images but Billy could have sworn he saw the bearded old man on the screen between the static. "Shazam?"
"Time to be a hero again, Billy,' the voice said.
"What-what do you mean?"
"Are you just going to let Mary run off like that? It might be a trap, Billy,' the voice replied. "She could be in danger and she was never the hero you were. Mary needs you, needs the hero inside of you, Billy."
"But I'm not Captain Marvel anymore."
"You weren't Captain Marvel when you were first chosen, either,' the voice said. "You were chosen because we saw something inside of you, a hero. Were we wrong?"
"NO!" Billy said, getting to his feet.
"Then be that hero again, Billy and perhaps …"
The voice trailed off.
"Perhaps what?" Billy asked.
"Things will change again."
"Back to how they should be,' Billy replied. "I'll do it, I'll save Mary!"
Billy rushed out of the apartment his mission clear. If he'd glanced back he might have seen the image on the television screen become clear for a moment. It was Circe and she smiled.
"Oh, things will be as they should be,' she said with a chuckle. "It just depends on whose version of the way it should be we're talking about."
Themyscira
"AWWWWWWW!" Hippolyta screamed.
"Push, I can see the head,' her younger self said.
Hours had passed and the delivery was taking its toll on Hippolyta. Her younger self was there through all of it, encouraging, ordering, pleading, whatever it took to help her have the baby. Aphrodite was there as well, though she kept her distance from the actual event. Hippolyta was covered in sweat, as she took deep breaths in order to make another push. This was the part of having a child she hadn't thought too much about, but even with all the pain she wouldn't trade this moment for anything.
"Now, one more should do it, Lyta,' her younger self said. It had been awkward at first, not sure what to call each other. They'd settled on Polly and Lyta.
"I'm tired,' the pregnant Hippolyta said.
"She's almost here, our daughter,' the younger version said. "We've waited all our lives for this. Push!"
"AAAAWWWWWWWAAAAAA!" Hippolyta screamed and pushed.
"Keep pushing!"
"AAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAA!"
The next sound heard on the beach was that of a baby crying. The two versions of the same woman looked at each other and then down at their daughter. They both had tears of joy in their eyes.
"I would call her Diana," the younger Hippolyta said.
"Yes, that is her name," the older version replied. She couldn't stop the tears now. Her child, her daughter, Diana, was now her real flesh and blood daughter. Hippolyta had always considered her a miracle and never more than at this moment. The cord was cut and the younger version wrapped the tiny infant in a blanket. She moved up so the two versions of the same woman could hold their daughter.
"I prayed so long,' Hippolyta whispered. "I almost lost hope that it would ever happen."
"Our daughter, my little moon and stars,' the older version whispered to the baby.
"Your prayers have been answered but as with everything there is a price, Hippolyta,' Aphrodite suddenly said.
The two versions looked at her with apprehension.
"What-What do you mean, Goddess?" The fear was plain in the older version's voice and on the younger version's face.
"Remember who the father is,' Aphrodite said.
"Zeus?"
"Zeus?" The younger version gasped. "The God above all the others?"
"Yes,' the older version replied. "The details are foggy, but I do recall it was he. Why is it so hard to remember, Goddess?"
"That is part of his magic,' she replied. "He fears Hera will hear of this and not be pleased. By making you forget he seeks to hid the truth."
"His magic." The older version repeated. "When he came me I resisted or I tried to resist."
"More of his magic, I'm afraid,' Aphrodite said. "I'm am sorry I couldn't protect you from him, but now we must think of the child."
"He wouldn't harm his own daughter, would he?" The younger Hippolyta asked in horror.
"He's done far worse things in his time, but no as long as the truth remains hidden,' Aphrodite replied. "If Hera finds out, either one of them might harm the child."
"How can we protect her?" The older Hippolyta asked. "I will let no harm come to my child!"
Aphrodite smiled and knelt down next to the two Hippolyta's.
"You have already proven the truth of those words,' she softly said. "There is also the time jumps to consider. Diana is strong, but she is but an infant. I fear they will be too much for her. She needs to remain here."
"No!" The older Hippolyta shouted. "I will not abandoned my daughter so soon after I have given birth!"
"You won't be,' Aphrodite replied. "You will be leaving her with yourself."
She turned to the younger Hippolyta.
"No one must know the truth of Diana's origins yet,' she said. "You came here to ask the Gods to animate that child of clay and you will tell everyone that is what happened."
The older Hippolyta hugged the baby, Diana to her and wept.
"Even when she grows up?" The younger Hippolyta asked. "She deserves to know her true origins."
'And one day she will,' Aphrodite said. "You will tell her, or your older version will tell her to be more exact, but not now. Now we must protect her for her life depends on it. You must love her as if she were your own, for only you will know the truth that she is your own."
"No, no, no, I can't give her up,' the older Hippolyta cried.
"All the memories you have of Diana begin right here, tonight, Hippolyta,' Aphrodite whispered. "You aren't giving her up; you're saving her again. You will always have her and now you will always know the truth of who she really is."
Hippolyta continued to hold her new daughter tight and shake her head no.
"You were willing to make the sacrifice of dying to save her,' Aphrodite gently said, as she stroked Hippolyta's hair. "This is the sacrifice saving her life demands. You must give her up to your younger self if she is to live."
Hippolyta looked down into her newborn daughter's eyes and saw her smiling up at her. Her heart broke with joy at that moment, but she knew she would have to make this sacrifice. Whispering I love you over and over, she kissed Diana tenderly and then slowly handed her child over to her younger self.
"I will love her as my own and that is what she is,' the younger version of Hippolyta solemnly promised.
"Time already begins its pull, Hippolyta, it is very short now,' Aphrodite warned.
The tears flowed down Hippolyta's face, as she looked at her daughter in the arms of her younger self. She could feel herself slipping back out of time, but she wished this moment could last forever.
"I will always love you, Diana,' she whispered. "I will see you again in the future."
She slowly faded back outside of time and Aphrodite vanished as well. The younger version of Hippolyta suddenly found herself alone on the beach with her daughter in her arms. The events that had just transpired vanished with the others and Hippolyta looking down at her baby daughter in her arms was left with the belief that the Gods had finally answered her prayers.