AN: Hello, dear reader and happy Monday! This chapter is all about fathers (as in plural *wink wink*) Enjoy!

16

"Captain, are you ready to hold your daughter?" Epione asks Steve, her voice calm but carrying a weight of significance.

Steve takes a deep breath, his broad shoulders rising and falling as he nods once. "I am," he says, his voice steady but tinged with a vulnerability I've only ever seen in his most private moments.

"Remove your shirt," Epione instructs him as she carefully takes Maia from my arms.

Steve blinks, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What?"

I bite back a smile, though it tugs insistently at the corners of my lips. I know the importance of skin-to-skin contact — not just for the mother and baby, but for the father too. It's something I learned during my formative years, though I doubt Steve has ever heard of it. After all, the concept is still relatively new in Man's World, and it's not like we've been poring over baby books. Our daughter is a demigod, after all. No manual could prepare us for that.

"Skin-to-skin contact helps regulate her body temperature, heart rate, and breathing," I explain, my voice soft but firm. "It reduces stress, helps her cry less, and does a lot of other good things. The more she gets it now, the better."

Steve sags in relief, his shoulders relaxing as he begins to unbutton his shirt. "Oh, that's great," he says, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "For a second there, I thought you were going to tell me to try and breastfeed her."

I slap a hand to my forehead, laughing despite the sharp twinge of pain it sends through my abdomen. "Ow. Steve, you're an idiot."

He chuckles, the sound warm and familiar, as he sits down in a cushioned chair near one of the bathing pools. "I know. I know. Stupid thing to think. Okay, I'm ready."

Epione gently passes Maia to Steve, her movements precise and practiced. "Make sure you're always supporting her head — yes, just like that. Are you comfortable?"

Steve nods, but his attention is fully on Maia. His large hands cradle her tiny body with a tenderness that makes my heart ache. "Hey, Maia," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "Look at you. You're so tiny."

I watch them, my vision blurring as tears well up in my eyes. It feels surreal, like a dream I'm afraid I'll wake up from. Steve is so gentle with her, his touch careful but confident. He places his index finger on her tiny palm, and her little fingers curl around it instinctively.

Steve laughs, a soft, breathy sound that catches in his throat. I can tell he's choking up, and honestly, how could he not? How could anyone not?

"Okay, Diana," Epione says, pulling my attention back to her. "We're going to take you to the small waterfall near the entrance of the infirmary so you can clean yourself up. Then you'll sit in the bathing pools for about forty minutes. Ersa should be here soon to add some essential oils and herbs to help with your recovery. After that, you can go to your chambers to rest."

I nod, shifting slightly to sit up. The movement sends a sharp pang through my body, and I wince as I press a hand to my abdomen.

"Take your time," Epione says, her tone clinical but not unkind. "Your body has been through a lot. Do you need help getting up?"

I hesitate for a moment, pride warring with practicality, before nodding. Epione extends her hands, and I take them, using her support to push myself upright. As I stand, I feel a trickle of something warm run down my legs.

I glance down and wince at the streaks of blood on the floor. "Don't worry about it," Epione says quickly, her voice calm and reassuring. "It's completely normal. The bathing pool will help with that."

I nod, letting go of her hands and taking a tentative step forward. My legs feel shaky, but I manage to walk slowly toward the door. Before I leave, I glance back over my shoulder. Steve is still cradling Maia, but he looks up just in time to catch my eye. He gently lifts Maia's tiny hand and waves it at me.

"See you in a minute, mama," he says, his voice warm and teasing.

I smile, my heart swelling with love, and turn to follow Epione.

We walk in silence for a few minutes, the only sound is the soft rustle of our footsteps against the stone floor. After a while, I reach out and take Epione's hand, squeezing it gently.

"Thank you," I say, my voice thick with emotion. "For everything you did today. I can only imagine how much preparation you and Ersa put into this. I couldn't have done it without you."

Epione smiles, her eyes softening as she squeezes my hand in return. "It was my absolute pleasure, Diana. I can't deny that I feel emotional today, too. I helped bring you into this world, and now your daughter. Amazons were given a united goal — to bestow love and peace onto mankind. But each of us has an individual purpose. For so long, mine was to heal, mend, and soothe. Then the queen came to me with strange symptoms, and I spent hours researching, trying to understand what was happening. Her diagnosis changed everything for me. Bringing you into this world was so fulfilling to my soul, Diana. We never thought we'd see it — a brand-new life here in Themyscira."

We reach the waterfall, and Epione stops, turning to face me. "I felt blessed and grateful to have been a part of it. Then you and the Captain came, and I couldn't believe that once again, I would have the honor of bringing another life into this world. I was scared there for a moment, I'll admit. You cried almost immediately. Maia just needed a bit more encouragement, I think."

She smiles at me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, and steps behind me to help me remove my robe.

I step into the waterfall, closing my eyes as the cool water cascades over me, washing away the sweat, blood, and tears. Epione hands me a bar of soap, and I begin to lather my skin, the scent of lavender and chamomile filling the air.

"You're sure she's okay?" I ask, my voice trembling slightly. "It felt like she wasn't breathing for a long time."

Epione nods, her expression calm and reassuring. "Oh yes. I'm sure it felt like an eternity, but it was almost a minute. I was keeping track. She's displaying all the reflexes that should be present at birth. She's healthy, Diana."

I nod, rinsing the soap from my body and squeezing the water from my hair. Epione hands me a towel, and I wrap it around myself, feeling a little more human.

"Steve and I will always be grateful to you and Ersa, Epione. Thank you," I say, my voice sincere.

I know something else was at work a few hours ago. The voice I heard… I know it was my father. But still, Epione and Ersa had a role to play, and they played it to perfection.

"You're very welcome, Diana," Epione says, her smile warm. "Now, let's get you to the bathing pools."

"Okay," I reply, following her back to the infirmary.

When we return, Steve is still in the same position, gently rocking Maia. I touch his shoulder as I walk by, my fingers brushing against his skin.

"All good?" I ask him.

He looks up at me, his blue eyes soft and filled with love. "Couldn't be better," he says, his voice warm.

A loud cheer erupts somewhere in the distance, the sound carrying through the open windows of the infirmary. It's a joyful noise, full of life and celebration, and it makes me smile despite my exhaustion. Ersa walks in at that moment, carrying a tray of vials filled with various colored liquids.

"That must be the end of Hera's ceremony," she says, her voice calm but tinged with satisfaction. "They must've seen the smoke."

Steve frowns, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Hera's ceremony?"

I sit for a moment next to Steve, my body still aching but my heart full as I watch Maia suck her thumb contentedly. I reach out and gently caress her head, my fingers brushing against her soft, dark hair.

"Hera is the goddess of marriage, women, and childbirth," I explain, my voice soft but clear. "To signal a successful birth, there's usually a ceremonial fire lit. They burn the placenta and offerings — food, wine, or figurines representing a mother and her child. It's a way to honor Hera and ask for her blessings."

Steve nods, his expression thoughtful. "Interesting. Does everyone participate?"

I smile, nodding. "Yes. It's a celebration, after all. This is part of it too," I say, gesturing to the bathing pool. "The bathing ritual is called katharsis. It's meant to cleanse and heal the mother after birth."

Ersa finishes pouring the contents of the vials into the bathing pool, the water shimmering as the oils and herbs mix together. She turns to me, her expression kind but professional.

"It's ready, Your Highness. You can step in now. Your Majesty does not wish to intrude at this time. She asked me to tell you she will visit you later in your chambers."

I nod, gratitude swelling in my chest. "Thank you, Ersa. For everything."

"Really. Thank you. To both of you," Steve echoes, his voice sincere as he looks up from Maia.

Ersa smiles, her eyes softening. "I'm happy I could be of service. Congratulations."

"Stay in the pool for forty minutes, Diana," Epione adds, she instructs. "Then go to your chambers and rest. Everything has already been set up for you."

I thank them both, and as they leave, the room falls into a comfortable silence. Steve, Maia, and I are alone now, and the intimacy of the moment wraps around us like a warm blanket.

I stand slowly, my body still tender, and let my robe fall to the floor. I step carefully into the bathing pool, the water almost warm against my skin. The scent of eucalyptus and lavender fills the air, soothing and invigorating at the same time. I sink into the water, letting it envelop me, and close my eyes with a sigh. The tension in my body begins to melt away, and I feel myself drifting into a light, peaceful sleep.

It feels like only minutes pass before I'm jolted awake by the sound of Steve's soft voice.

"Shh. It's okay, Maia. What's wrong? Talk to me. I'm all ears," he murmurs, his voice gentle and reassuring.

I open my eyes, blinking away the remnants of sleep, and see Steve gently bouncing Maia in his arms. She fusses for a moment, her tiny face scrunching up, but then she lets out a soft coo, her little arm poking out of her blanket.

I smile, staying quiet as I watch them.

"Oh, I get it," Steve says, his voice warm with amusement. "You're wondering where you are, right? Well, you're in Themyscira. This is your mama's home. She's an Amazon, you see."

Maia coos again, her tiny hand waving in the air as if she's trying to grasp his words.

"Yeah," Steve continues, his voice softening. "You're part Amazon too. But not just any Amazon. Oh no. You're special. You're Maia, Princess of Themyscira and daughter of the goddess of truth, Diana. Granddaughter to the Amazon queen, Hippolyta, and the king of the gods, Zeus himself."

Maia squirms, letting out a heart-melting "ahh" that makes Steve chuckle.

"Yeah, I know!" he says, his voice full of wonder.

Her hand touches his chest, her tiny fingers splaying against his skin as if she's asking, What about you?

Steve's expression shifts, his eyes growing distant for a moment as he considers her unspoken question. Then he smiles, his voice taking on a playful tone.

"Oh, well. I don't have a lineage as impressive as your mama's. I'm just Steve. I hope you don't mind." He pauses, his smile widening. "But let me tell you something. You have my name — Trevor, that is. It has a nice ring to it, don't you think? Maia Trevor."

He caresses her cheek with his index finger, his touch impossibly gentle. I can see the wheels turning in his head, his posture shifting as he gathers his thoughts. There's a moment of silence, and then he continues, his voice steady but filled with emotion.

"I can't give you many impressive titles, Maia. But let me tell you what I can give you. I'll give you all of me. Whatever you need, I'm planning on being there. Whether it's holding your hand as you learn to take your first steps or breaking the nose of some jerk who dares break your heart, I'm there. I love you, Maia. I promise I will not only spend every second working on being the father you need but the father you deserve. That is my promise to you."

He leans down and presses a kiss to the top of her head, his lips lingering for a moment.

Tears spill down my cheeks, but I don't make a sound. This moment is sacred, a bond forming between father and daughter that feels as ancient and unbreakable as the stars above. I close my eyes, letting the warmth of the water and the sound of Steve's voice lull me back into sleep.

I wake to the gentle pressure of Steve's hand on my shoulder, his touch warm and familiar. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, I look up to see him standing beside the bathing pool, Maia cradled securely in his arms.

"Hey," he says softly, his voice a low rumble that soothes the edges of my drowsiness. "It's been about an hour, but you looked so comfortable I didn't want to wake you."

I smile, stretching slightly as the warm water ripples around me. "Thank you," I murmur, my voice still thick with sleep. "I needed that."

Steve extends his free hand to help me step out of the pool, his grip firm but gentle. I rise slowly, the cool air hitting my skin as the water cascades off me in shimmering droplets. Maia stirs in his arms, her tiny face scrunching up for a moment before she settles again, her thumb finding its way to her mouth.

"She's been perfect," Steve says, his voice filled with quiet pride. "Just like her mom."

I chuckle softly, reaching for the clean robe Ersa left folded nearby. Steve adjusts Maia in his arms so he can help me into it, his movements careful and deliberate. The fabric is soft against my skin, and I tie the sash loosely around my waist, feeling a little more like myself.

"Ready?" Steve asks, his voice gentle.

I nod, and together we make our way out of the infirmary, moving slowly through the quiet halls of the palace. The celebration outside is still in full swing, the distant sounds of laughter and music filtering through the stone walls. But inside, the palace is eerily empty, the silence wrapping around us like a cocoon.

As we approach the stairs leading to my chambers, I glance up and see two figures waiting by the door. My heart skips a beat as I recognize my mother and Antiope. They stand side by side, their expressions a mix of anticipation and tenderness.

"Diana," my mother says, her voice warm and filled with emotion as she steps forward. But instead of looking at Maia first, her eyes lock onto mine, and in an instant, she closes the distance between us, pulling me into a fierce hug.

"My daughter," she murmurs, her voice trembling. "My brave, strong daughter. You've been through so much today. Are you alright?"

I melt into her embrace, the weight of the day crashing over me all at once. "I'm okay, Mother," I say, my voice muffled against her shoulder. "It was… harder than I expected. But I'm okay."

She pulls back slightly, her hands cupping my face as she studies me, her eyes searching for any sign of pain or distress. "Epione and Ersa told us everything," she says, her voice firm but gentle. "You were so strong, Diana. I'm so proud of you."

Tears well up in my eyes, and I nod, unable to speak for a moment. Antiope steps forward then, her usual stern expression softened by the emotion in her eyes.

"You did well, Diana," she says, her voice rough with pride. "Better than well. She's beautiful."

I smile, wiping at my tears as I glance at Maia, who is still nestled contentedly in Steve's arms. "Thank you," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

My mother finally turns her attention to Maia, her breath catching as she takes in the tiny bundle. "Oh, Diana," she says, her voice filled with awe. "She's perfect."

Antiope steps closer, her gaze shifting between Maia and me. "She has your strength," she says, her tone proud. "And your spirit."

Steve steps forward, his smile warm as he gently passes Maia to my mother. "Here you go," he says, his voice filled with trust and affection.

Hippolyta cradles her granddaughter with the ease of someone who has held a baby before, her expression softening as she looks down at Maia.

"Welcome, little one," she whispers, her voice thick with love. "I'm your yiayia."

I step back, leaning into Steve as we all move into my chambers. The room is spacious and warm, the soft glow of the lanterns casting a golden light over everything. My mother and Antiope settle onto the plush chairs near the bed, while Steve and I sit on the edge of the mattress, Maia in my mother's arms.

For a while, we simply talk — about the birth, about Maia, about how we're all feeling. My mother asks me about the physical toll, her eyes filled with concern, and I reassure her that while I'm sore and exhausted, I'm healing. Antiope listens quietly, her sharp eyes missing nothing, but her expression is softer than I've ever seen it.

"It's strange," I say after a while, my voice thoughtful. "I've fought battles, faced monsters, and endured things I never thought I could survive. But this… this was different. It was harder in ways I didn't expect."

My mother reaches out, her hand covering mine. "Birth is its own kind of battle," she says, her voice gentle. "But it's also a miracle. And you, Diana, have always been a miracle to me."

I feel a lump rise in my throat, and I squeeze her hand in return. Before I can respond, a yawn escapes me, my body reminding me just how exhausted I am. Steve chuckles softly, but then he yawns too, the sound echoing mine.

My mother smiles, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "You both need rest," she says, her tone kind. "Will have time to talk after."

She stands, holding Maia close. "Let me take her for a while. You two sleep."

Steve nods, his expression relaxed and trusting. "Thank you," he says, his voice warm.

Antiope stands as well, moving to my mother's side. "We'll stay with her," she says, her voice gentle. "You two rest."

I nod, sinking into the soft mattress with a sigh. Steve climbs in beside me, his arm wrapping around me as I curl into his side. My eyes drift closed, the sound of my mother and Antiope's soft voices talking to Maia lulling me into a deep, peaceful sleep.

"You are a miracle, little one," I hear my mother whisper. "You are meant for great things."

And as I drift off, I feel a sense of peace settle over me, knowing that Maia is safe, loved, and surrounded by family.

I blinked, and suddenly I was no longer in my chambers. The warmth of Steve's hand, the sound of Mother and Antiope's voices talking to Maia, the faint scent of herbs and oils — all of it was gone. Instead, I stood in a place that was both familiar and alien, a place I had heard of in stories but never truly imagined I would see.

The throne room of Olympus stretched before me, vast and impossibly grand. The air was thick with the scent of ambrosia and the sharp tang of lightning, and every breath I took felt charged, as if the very atmosphere was alive with power. The floor beneath my feet was polished marble, so smooth and reflective it seemed to hold the stars within its surface. I looked down and saw my own reflection staring back at me, wide-eyed and uncertain.

And then it hit me.

Oh gods. Am I dead?

The thought slammed into me like a thunderbolt, icy and paralyzing. My heart raced, my chest tightening as panic clawed at my throat. No, no, no. This can't be happening. I can't be dead. Maia needs me. Steve needs me. I can't leave them. Not now. Not like this.

I looked around frantically, my mind spinning. Is this what happens when you die? Is this how it ends?

But before I could spiral further, I saw him.

Zeus.

His throne loomed at the far end of the room, a massive structure of storm-gray marble veined with gold and silver. It was carved with such intricate detail that it seemed less like a throne and more like a monument to his power. The back of the throne rose high, adorned with shifting carvings of the cosmos — stars, planets, and constellations that moved as if alive. At its peak, a colossal eagle with outstretched wings seemed to watch me, its sapphire eyes glowing with an otherworldly light.

Zeus himself sat upon the throne, larger than life, his presence filling the room. His eyes were like twin storms, swirling with fury and wisdom, and his silver beard and mane of storm-cloud hair only added to his imposing aura. In one hand, he held a scepter topped with a glowing orb of energy, and in the other, a bolt of lightning rested casually, crackling with restrained power.

I felt small. So small.

My heart pounded in my chest, a rapid rhythm that seemed to echo in the vastness of the room. I wanted to speak, to demand why I had been brought here, but the words caught in my throat. This was not just my father; this was Zeus, the king of the gods, the ruler of Olympus. And I was standing before him, vulnerable and exposed.

I took a step forward, my footsteps echoing softly on the marble floor. The air grew heavier with each step, pressing down on me like a physical weight. I could feel the energy of this place, the divine power that pulsed through every stone, every column, every flicker of light. It was overwhelming, and yet I couldn't look away.

As I approached the throne, I noticed the details — the roaring lions carved into the armrests, their golden manes gleaming; the fabric of the seat, woven from the night sky itself, deep blue and dotted with stars. And above it all, the eagle, its gaze piercing, as if it could see straight into my soul.

Zeus's eyes met mine, and in that moment, I felt the full weight of his power. It was like standing in the eye of a storm, calm and yet filled with the promise of destruction. I wanted to look away, to shield myself from that gaze, but I couldn't. I was rooted to the spot, my breath caught in my chest.

"Father," I finally managed to say, my voice trembling. It felt strange to call him that. He was Zeus, the king of the gods, not some mortal man. And yet, he was my father. The one who had given me life, who had shaped my destiny in ways I was only beginning to understand.

He didn't respond immediately. Instead, he studied me, his expression unreadable. The silence stretched on, heavy and suffocating, until I thought I might scream just to break it.

And then he spoke, his voice deep and resonant, like the rumble of distant thunder.

"Diana," he said, and my name sounded different coming from him — weighted, significant, as if it carried the fate of worlds.

I swallowed hard, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. "Why am I here?" I asked, my voice stronger now, though it still shook. "Am I dead?"

He leaned forward slightly, the lightning bolt in his hand crackling with energy. "No, you are not dead. You are here," he said, "because there are things you must know. Things that concern your daughter."

The relief of being told I was not dead lasted but a mere second. My heart skipped a beat. "Maia? What about her? Is she—"

"She is well," he interrupted, his tone firm but not unkind. "But her birth was not without complications. And for that, I am responsible."

The words hit me like a blow, knocking the breath from my lungs. I stared at him, my mind racing. "You… you did this? You made her suffer?"

His expression didn't change, but I thought I saw a flicker of something — regret? guilt? — in his stormy eyes. "It was necessary," he said simply.

"Necessary?" My voice rose, anger flaring in my chest. "She could have died! She didn't breathe for—"

"And yet she lives," he said, cutting me off again. His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it now, a warning. "She is strong, Diana. Stronger than you know. And she will need that strength for what is to come."

I shook my head, tears stinging my eyes. "You don't get to decide that," I said, my voice breaking. "She's my daughter. Mine. Not yours. Not some pawn in your games."

For a moment, he said nothing. Then he leaned back in his throne, his gaze never leaving mine. "You are right," he said quietly. "She is your daughter. She is not mine. But I do not play games. That is why I brought you here. To warn you. To prepare you."

I wanted to argue, to scream at him, to demand answers. But the look in his eyes stopped me. There was something there — something almost like sorrow. And it scared me more than his anger ever could.

"Prepare me for what?" I whispered.

He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, a sound filled the room — a sound that made my skin crawl. It was like the whispering of a thousand voices, distant and yet impossibly close, echoing from somewhere beyond the throne room. The voices were unintelligible, their words slipping through my mind like smoke, but their tone was clear: cold, ancient, and filled with a power that made my blood run cold.

Zeus's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing as he turned his gaze toward the source of the voices. "You presume to tell me what I can or cannot do?!" he roared, his voice shaking the very foundations of the throne room.

The voices responded, their tone unyielding, and though I couldn't understand their words, I felt their meaning. They were reminding him of something — something sacred, something unbreakable.

Zeus's jaw tightened, his grip on the lightning bolt tightening until his knuckles turned white. For a moment, I thought he might hurl it, but then he exhaled sharply, the tension in his shoulders easing ever so slightly.

"Very well," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "But know this: I am not bound by your chains."

The voices faded, leaving the throne room in silence once more. I stood there, trembling, my mind racing. What had just happened? Who — or what — were those voices? And why had they silenced Zeus?

He turned back to me, his expression unreadable. "Your voice is the key," he said cryptically, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"What does that mean?" I demanded, my voice shaking. "What are you not telling me?"

He sighed, a sound that carried the weight of centuries. "Diana," he said, his voice softer now, almost gentle, "your daughter's life — and Steve's — were never in true danger. I would not have allowed it. But things needed to happen as they did. The earthquakes, Steve's fall… they were not without purpose."

I stared at him, my anger flaring again. "You toyed with their lives. With my life. How could you?!"

"Because I trust you," he said simply. "I have many children, Diana, but not all of them have your heart. Your purity. Your strength. I am making an exception for you, but even my power has limits. The Fates have spoken, and I cannot break their rules. Not even for you."

His words hit me like a blow, and I felt the fight drain out of me. "Then why bring me here?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. "If you can't help me, why show me this?"

"Because I want to help you," he said, his voice fierce. "But I cannot give you the answers you seek. Not directly. Your voice is the key. Remember that."

He paused, his gaze softening ever so slightly. Then he pointed somewhere behind me, his gesture firm but not unkind. "It's time for you to go. Maia's hungry."

Before I could respond, he raised his hand, and the room began to fade, the throne, the columns, the stars above all dissolving into darkness.

"Wait!" I cried, reaching out as if I could stop him. "Tell me more!"

But it was too late. The throne room was gone, and I was falling, falling back into the warmth of my chambers, back to Steve and Maia and the life I had fought so hard to protect.

AN: What did you think? I'm particularly proud of this chapter. I think it turned out great. Well, the juices keep flowing and as of today, I have another two chapters to upload. See you next Monday!