Chapter 11

Diana led them into the temple, sun still filtering in, hot and angry and red, through the large, open windows. It glinted off of the metal, the weaponry and armour that was displayed in cases. He recognized her wedding dress, still stained across the lap with her mother's blood, as well as the darkly stained purple robe Hippolyta had been wearing when Artemis had assassinated her in an attempt to kill Diana, then blamed his ward, Garth. He hadn't thought of the young boy in a long time; it was better that way. Unlike others who were lost to the war, Garth had been so young, so innocent. Merely a pawn in Orm and Pentisilla's game.

Eventually, inevitably, his eyes found the helmet of his fallen Queen, next to a small plaque Diana had carved, clearly having taken her time to do something useful, he thought to himself with bitter sarcasm. He was busy defending his right to hold the title of King and she was up here, in the sun, in the warmth, still gifted by the Gods, and making monuments. Perhaps if she had been using her time better she would have tracked down this mysterious threat and destroyed whomever it was before they became a threat in the first place?

He seethed in bitter rage in the corner while Diana set about gathering what she needed. What she needed most of all were dry clothes. She looked over her shoulder at Orin; even when they were together she had always been shy and coy about being naked or exposed around him, about professing any kind of physical displays of affection. She was awkward and felt clumsy at it; his mistress was an expert, or at least she was in Diana's eyes. Adept at turning Arthur's attention with the twist of her hip, the crook of her lip. Diana couldn't compete with that level of flirtation.

He appeared to be deeply enamoured and distracted by her small tribute to his wife.

Given that she was so shy, and yet unsure of whether he had ever viewed her sexually, Diana was torn but eventually closed her eyes and drew off her wet clothes, letting them fall to the ground.

The sound of the wet cloth hitting the marble alerted Arthur to what was going on, and despite himself and the hatred he possessed for Diana, he found his eyes wandering, peeking from the corner at her. He was, after all a man, and she was a woman, and they had once planned to spend the rest of his life together.

Her form was partially shaded by the light coming in from the window, but what he could see looked as if it were illuminated by Apollo himself. The rumour was Amazons had been blessed by Aphrodite with beauty inside and out, but as the child of the Goddess' rival, her brother Ares, Diana possessed an incredible capacity for violence; something that at once made her less and more attractive to Arthur.

He hadn't known the depth of her capacity, or her rumoured paternity, until the war began. Prior to that, he had known only the incredible beauty, physical and emotional, of her. She loved everyone, and if she were ever insecure she hid it well.

Right now, however, he was taking in a view he had never got to see; they had never consummated their relationship, as they both worked so hard to hold up the myth that it was merely a marriage of convenience, something built of out of a political necessity rather than a growing, living love. As such, there had been coy kisses, and Diana's blushing as he held her hand, slipped am arm around her waist or brushed hair from her face. In retrospect, her coy circumspection drove him insane, but during their courting, he had found it charming. Cute, even. Her complete lack of knowledge, of awareness how she affected him, was a refreshing change from Mera, who was aware of every smirk, every twist of her brow, every pout, and had invested each movement with meaning and energy to achieve a purpose.

Her body was unscarred from the war; even if she had taken any vital hits, her constitution healed much faster than his; she would never have a disfiguring mark as he did thanks to her. Her body was as beautiful now as it was when they first met, perhaps a little fuller now through her hips and breasts, not that it was a bad thing. They were youths when they met, on the verge of adult hood; not only had the war hardened their hearts and minds, making them "adults" in a metaphysical sense, time had turned their bodies into those of adults.

Her hips narrowed at her waist, flaring out for her ribcage. Her skin was tight across her muscles, and Arthur had to consciously draw his eyes away from her. Biology was something even they couldn't escape.

She had caught the turn of his head from the corner of her eye, just a flash of movement as he turned away from her. An unbidden, unwanted flush flared across her cheeks as she realized he had dared to take a peek at her as she changed. She let a private smile cross her lips as she pulled her battle armour up over her body, buckling the chest and shoulder plates in place before adopting her leg and forearm shields. Her hair was still wet, but she bound it back as well as she could into a braid to keep it away from her face.

"Are you done playing with your hair?" Arthur asked, a tone of derision in his voice, his hands on his hips as he turned to face her again, seeing as she was redressed.

"Yes," she answered back coldly, stalking across the floor of her shrine and towards the steps. "Now, as for the plan. I've been thinking..."

Arthur cut her off, putting his hand up to silence her, seeming to not see her shocked, then angry, blue eyes. "Which is great, but let's remember who has been fighting and who has been sitting, writing poetry," he said. Clearly he had seen and read her tribute to Mera; that such a heartfelt action could be taken as if she were lazy, Diana fumed.

Her eyes went wide and her fists balled. "Your continued war doesn't bode for your ability to plan, just your skills as a brawler," she shot back. "Listen, I have a plan. I need you to trust me." Her voice was earnest, honest, and her eyes softened, consciously letting go of the anger caused by his words.

"Why should I?"

"What on earth could you have to lose?" her voice asked delicately, sensitive to the fact that he did in fact have very little to lose by teaming up with her, but he also had little to gain.

Diana held her hand out for him, blue eyes imploring him to take her offering.