Chapter 4

Diana had returned to Exile, the unofficial name of the jagged outcropping of small islands that surrounded Themyscira. Originally, before Themyscira had been sunk, the islands were a lush paradise, as beautiful and green as the main island, if not just a little more. The island was to serve as Diana and Arthur's home, for even as her King, he could not step foot or reside on the island of the Amazons as per the law of the Gods. Smiling favour and severing old hatreds, Aphrodite, one of Diana's patrons and Goddess of Love, and Poseidon, Arthur's patron and God of the Sea, raised a large enough piece of land from the sea so the two should have a home, a private place for their love to be shared.

It was that land that was now Diana's prison in a cruel twist of irony. The bed she was to share with her husband a constant reminder of her failures as a Queen and an Amazon. The Island was only home to two buildings; the one which homed Diana in her solitude and the one where she built a monument to the war that had landed her here. It was not a monument built in victory, but rather remembrance; one of the shining central pieces of the collection was the Helm of the Atlantian Queen.

Diana entered the temple, her fingers brushing over the smooth curve of the golden helmet. It was supposed to have belonged to her, but rather Mera worn it in battle, before Diana slaughtered her. To this day, Diana was unaware of what possessed the other Queen to challenge her. She had been cocky while Arthur was showing her Atlantis, suggesting that Diana might even need a lesson on how to handle a trident, an unnecessary point of competition between the two. Diana showed proficiency with ease, shutting up the insufferable concubine, all be it temporarily.

She hadn't been surprised to find Arthur had taken her as his Queen, merely saddened. It was then she realized there was no return from where they had gone. They would not be able to turn back.

In the centre of the main antechamber was a case holding the armour she wore in the war, but also the more famous corset and star spangled skirt her mother had donned when first exploring Man's World. Her fingers rested upon the golden tiara, a large, smooth, flat piece of gold molded to fit with a red star emblazed upon the centre. As Wonder Woman, in Man's World originally, the Queen of the Amazons had been a symbol for hope, peace, and the power of love. Diana had perverted that, and in such perverted her mother's memory.

She longed to be worthy of the armour her mother wore, but knew after allowing her aunt to use her like that, Diana was not worthy of being that Wonder Woman. She had to work on rehabbing her own version of the symbol before she could dare to inhabit her mother's spirit.

The case to the left of Hippolyta's costume, and her royal wear, held Diana's armour from the war. She looked up as it stood on hooks and wires behind the glass. A long, dangerous sword, the one that had taken what should have been a dear friend and sister's life hung down the side, metal plating along the hips, chest and shoulders had protected her from her former fiancé's trident. Her crest was blazed across the centre of her chest plate, scarred, scratched and worn from battle. Above, on a tray, sat the diadem she had worn during battle; much smaller than her mother's tiara, it had to fit under Mera's helmet, after all.

Gingerly she reached up to her shoulders, unpinning her chiton and letting the loose, wet cotton fall away to the floor. It landed with a wet sound and she stepped out of it, opening the case and, grudgingly, began to dress for war once again.

She placed the tiara on her head, fixing her hair around the diadem, looking into the near empty case. She had left much of her heavier plating inside; there was no need for arm or leg plates, and she left her sword not wanting to give the King the wrong impression. She was going to come knocking on his door, and if she wanted him to answer, she certainly knew better than to come well-armed with the very sword that killed his beloved.

As she left the temple, to the east, on the other side of Themyscira, Diana could see the sun rising. "Appollo, blessed by your holy Sisters, may they protect me and guide me as I go," she whispered, her lips barely moving as she closed her eyes, offering silent tribute to each of her patrons, including perhaps most reluctantly, Ares, the God of War and only male God she ever truly patronized.

During the war it had come out that Hippolyta and Ares had engaged in a very long affair, resulting not only in Diana's allegedly half-brother Thrax, but perhaps in Diana herself. By this time, Hippolyta was dead and Diana, flush and thriving in battle, certainly resembled all that Ares would want from a child, but would neither confirm nor deny paternity.

She left the temple and turned, looking at the helmet. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, pressing her gloved fingers to her lips before pressing them to the helmet. "I never meant to hurt you, in anything…"

She was brought back to a meeting between the two women, Diana had sent for Mera while she was staying in Poseidonis, learning the culture and pomp and circumstance required of an Atlantian Queen, something Mera knew all about but had refused to take part in. Diana did not grudge her the jealousy she felt; Mera had grown up knowing, or at least thinking she knew, what place she was going to occupy in society, and in Arthur's life, and a chance meeting and a political maneuver later and all of that was gone.

"What on Earth can I have to say to you, Amazon?" Mera said, her lip twitching just a little.

"I don't want to be your enemy," Diana said, tilting her head to the side. "We should not be enemies."

"Says the woman who stole my love."

"I stole nothing," Diana spoke softly, channelling the calm serenity of her mother. It was true, prior to the war and her Aunt's goading, Diana was more like Hippolyta than either would admit, calm and patient almost to the point of madness. "He still loves you very much. It breaks his heart to see you hurting."

Mera had been stunned by her words, but it was enough of an opening for Diana to talk, to get to know Mera. The two women learned much that night; they shared so many things, and Arthur was only a minor point.

"I should like for him to be… discrete," Diana said. "But I cannot deny him the love you two share."

She was sure that she had confused the poor girl with her comment; allowing Arthur to retain his mistress provided they kept things quiet.

"Our marriage isn't one of love, like yours would have been," Diana continued, trying to explain where she was coming from. "We are simply doing our duties, as monarchs are wont to, doing what is best for our kingdoms. We are not in love." She had meant it when she told Mera she had no real romantic interest in Arthur.

She had also meant it when she told Arthur she was falling in love with him just a few days later.

The warrior queen snapped out of her memories, standing at the edge of the ocean, looking out onto the water seemingly set ablaze by the rising of the sun. She wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her gloved hand and took a deep breath.