| Subject: Mideval DCU, revamped. CH. 1 and part of ch. 2 |
Author:
Cat Price
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Date Posted: 20:43:13 10/18/02 Fri
Medieval DCU
By Cat Price
Disclaimers: No, I don't own DC, and no, I'm not making any money off of my fanfic...darn it!
History: The DCU (predominately Wonder Woman and Batman) set in medieval times (Arthurian).
[Chapter 1]
Lady Diana of Themiscira, feeling uncomfortable in the social situation, stood in a corner, trying to be unnoticed by everyone. Her mother was in deep conversation with the currently reigning King of Atlantis. Orin, that was his name. She knew for a fact that her mother was trying to arrange for her to marry him. She also knew that he was very supportive of that idea. An alliance between Atlantis and Themiscira would be good for both. Still, just because something was good for Themiscira did not mean that she had to like it.
It wasn't that the King was good looking. Twelve years older than her at thirty-five, he was tall, blond, bearded, and stunningly handsome. Still, she felt little or no real personal attraction towards him. She wished that her mother would realize this and stop steering her towards him, continuously. She didn't think that Queen Hippolyta would pressure her into an unwanted marriage. Well…she didn't…think that she would, in any case.
Lost in her thoughts, she did not hear the dark-haired man with piercing gray-brown eyes step quietly up behind her until he was upon her.
As he tapped her shoulder she jumped, startled, and turned, swiftly. It was incredibly difficult to sneak up on her. He bowed, and before she could say anything, quickly stated his reason for seeking her out.
"Forgive me for startling you, Princess Diana," he told her. "My name is Bruce," The Duke of Gotham, she mused. She'd always heard that he was rather…well, rather unintelligent. She didn't get that impression, however. "I beg the favor of a dance." He told her, offering her his arm.
She hesitated just a moment but then placed her arm over his and smiled. "I would be honored, Your Grace," she said, deliberately. Her voice, while diplomatic, held just a touch of somewhat-unintentional flirtation.
He smiled and she felt herself tremble, slightly, but shook the feeling off. He led her onto the dance floor.
As they danced she had a chance to measure the man. He had an inner warrior-like spirit, but it was disguised well. At first glance, he honestly seemed quite…well, quite vapid. But there was a spark of intelligence and an almost predatory cleverness in his deep brown eyes. He was a dangerous man. Handsome, but dangerous.
He had a chance to measure her, as well, while they whirled gracefully among the other dancing couples. He watched the way the torchlight flickered along her perfect body, her long, jet-black hair, her smooth skin and her beautiful, sea-deep blue eyes. She was gorgeous, but there was an undercurrent of deliberate strength in her, a strength that marked her as a warrior.
The princess had a warrior's spirit, coupled with an obviously gentle, almost innocent nature. From what he had seen of her so far and heard through others, she was a warrior who fought for peace. A paradox within herself. She intrigued him. Not only was she easily the most beautiful woman in the room, perhaps even in the kingdom, she was also clever, skilled, sharp-eyed, intelligent. He also knew that she saw right through his practiced show of vapidity. Yet…he trusted in the knowledge that, even if she managed to find out who he was (which he sincerely doubted), the knowledge would be safe in her possession.
After the music had stopped, Diana graciously took her leave of him. She needed a quiet place to think.
She navigated her way out onto one of the palace balconies, unaware that the Duke of Wayne followed her. Once there, she wrapped both hands around the railing and sighed. The Duke could not offer her or her nation nearly as good an alliance as King Orin. So why was she infinitely more attracted to the former than to the latter? She shook her head. This was so confusing.
Suddenly, she heard a discreet cough from behind her, and whirled, startled. The Duke himself was standing there; a half-smile planted on his handsome face.
"My Lady."
"Your Grace."
He took a few steps in her direction. "Is the celebration not to your liking?" he questioned.
She sighed. "Not this celebration in particular. I feel uncomfortable at all social functions."
"I see. And why is that?"
She afforded him a piercing look, trying to see if he was mocking her. His expression was merely interested and attentive.
"I dislike the rules and etiquette. I dislike being on display. I dislike being paraded about on the arms of men who are just interested in my royal station or my wealth or my appearance." Her voice was bitterer than she had meant it to be, so she stopped talking.
He frowned. "I did not mean to make you feel…on display…" he began, wondering if she was speaking of their earlier dance, but she cut him off, her voice apologetic.
"No! No, it was not like that with you. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to infer that it was. Actually, I..." She hesitated, then forged ahead, determined to say what she felt should be said. "I actually enjoyed our dance. Very much."
He smiled at her, his look somewhat challenging. "Really, princess? And why would that be?"
Diana stared at the floor, trying to form at least a semi-diplomatic response. She looked up at him and met his eyes once she began to speak. "It feels like you appreciate more than just the fact that I'm a princess. You think of me as a person, not as merely a…an object."
He stared at her for a moment, his handsome face thoughtful, considering the words of the raven-haired beauty that was being surprisingly open with him. "You are a very intriguing person, Diana."
She glanced up at him, both at his comment and at the uncommon use of her first name. Then, she saw something in his eyes. Something passionate. A spark of desire that was infectious. Her breath caught in her throat.
Seeing her reaction to his unintentional advance, he took a slow step towards her, then another. She's the god damn princess of Themiscira, a distant part of his mind screamed. What do you think you're doing? He ignored the voice, quickly closing the distance between himself and the princess.
Diana trembled as he walked toward her. A part of her wanted to push him away, to run, to stop him. But deep down she knew that this was right.
She wanted this. She wanted him. She wanted his strong arms around her; she could almost feel her lips pressed against his. Such thoughts frightened her. She stood paralyzed, unable, unwilling to move.
The look on the face of The Duke of Wayne…no, not The Duke of Wayne, *Bruce* was so loving…empty and clueless as they did sometimes when he was carefully guarded.
He carefully placed his arms around her waist. His touch was gentle and warm as he pulled her close to him. She hesitantly clasped her hands behind his neck.
"Diana…" he whispered, just before he pressed his lips against hers.
Shaking, she let him kiss her, feeling the strangeness of it stirring something deep in her body…
Suddenly, she was afraid again. The knowledge of what this could lead to terrified her.
And yet the knowledge that he wanted her and she, him was racing through her veins. Her lips parted to his and he moved one hand up her back, entangling it in her hair.
She lost herself in the sweetness of his kiss, the warmth and tenderness of his embrace.
He pulled her closer to him and she did not resist, but reached up to touch his face, her hand resting on the line of his jaw.
The two kissed passionately for a long moment until at last they reluctantly pulled away.
Reality overtook her. Oh, great goddess, she couldn't do this, no matter how much she wanted to. She had responsibilities to Themiscira…damn it.
"Bruce…" she whispered.
He pulled her close to him and she lay her head in the curve of his shoulder.
Tears formed in her eyes until she blinked, then they traversed their way gently down her cheek, finally dropping to his shoulder and moistening the cloth of his shirt.
"Shhh," he told her.
She bit her lip and looked up at him. That was a mistake. His gaze, burning with intense love and desire, swept over her and he pulled her face to his.
Her lips opened voluntarily to his. She pressed her body against his, moving her hands to clasp the back of his neck.
Suddenly, the noise of footsteps approaching was heard by both of them.
Diana pulled back, startled. The Duke quickly let her go as the King of Atlantis walked out onto the terrace.
"Diana," he began, then saw them together.
He glared at Bruce, then said to Diana, without taking his eyes from the Duke; "You are needed inside. Your mother is looking for you."
Diana, fearing to show any hesitation and give him a clue as to what they were doing, nodded cordially to him. "Thank you, Your Majesty," she told him. Then she went inside, wishing she could stay.
Orin glared at Bruce for a long moment before speaking. "Stay away from her, Wayne. She is mine."
The Duke of Gotham's eyes narrowed. "You speak as if she is your property, your Majesty." The last two words were mocking and scornful, but only slightly, so that the statement could not be construed as an insult. "Permit me to remind you that she has a large part in the choosing of her future…partner. All you could offer her would be a largely ornamental role where she could have no real power. As your inferior. I offer her a position as a Duchess and my equal. "
Orin took a threatening step towards him. "Do you truly think that she'd turn down a kingdom for a duchy? That she would turn down me for you? You have no chance, Wayne,"
The Duke smiled and leaned against the high balcony railing. He sincerely doubted that she was that shallow.
"We shall see, Majesty," he said. "We shall see."
Time passed. The princess continued to be confused, the two men vying for her hand continued their bitter rivalry.
Of course, her mother would prefer that she choose Orin, she knew. Still, she was a bit distrustful of the man. He was power-hungry and ambitious, and she was a little afraid that her daughter would be little more than a figurehead for him. A symbolic queen with no power. She didn't want her daughter to live that kind of life, but she had to put the welfare of Themiscira before her daughter, weather she wished to or not. Besides, she wasn't entirely sure she liked the way that the Duke of Wayne looked at Diana, either.
But as far as Diana was concerned, the choice was already made. Even if she was not quite Bruce's, she would never be Orin's. Of that, there was little doubt. There were, however, many reservations. Angering the King of Atlantis would not be a wise decision. Nor would angering her mother. Only her intrigue and passion to Bruce stood in the way of her submission to a marriage contract. Her inner torment went on for days, until the Feast of Ostara, the next great gathering of nobles.
***
She avoided him. What else could she do? The endless torrent of passion and anguish was too much. She could not bear to see him.
Finally, as the last of the feasting and dancing and reverie ended, he cornered her on their way out of the hall. He waited quietly until they were alone, then turned to her. His gaze was deep and unreadable. She met it as levelly as she could bring herself to.
"You've been avoiding me." He stated, touching her cheek. "Why?"
She stared up at him, struggling to keep all emotion out of her face as she answered; "I…I'm confused. I don't know what to do." Her eyes met his with a resolute gleam. "I…I won't have Orin. I want only you." She stated.
There. She'd said it.
He suppressed a surge of elation. "Diana, why are you so worried?" He asked. She bit her lip, cursing herself for acting like a child. "My mother wishes me to wed Orin…" she began, but was interrupted when, suddenly, he kissed her, hard. She gasped into his mouth, then surrendered to the kiss, returning it with something akin to desperation.
He pulled away, breathing hard. "And will you do as Queen Hippolyta wishes?" He whispered in her ear.
"No," she murmured just before he kissed her again. She let herself be swept away in pleasure. She wrapped her arms around him, returning his kisses with newfound passion. But when he began unlacing her bodice, she gasped and tore away.
"Don't…" she whispered, softly, more worried than afraid. He stared at her for a moment, then embraced her. "Shh." He said. "Shh, I'm sorry." He kissed her, gently. Diana just leaned against him and shuddered. This was so complicated….
***
[Chapter 2]
"Seven days are in the week in almost every circumstance
And there's four seasons in the year or so we learned in school
Ah, but never count your chickens when you're dealing with the women
For many is the wise man fell asleep and wakened up a fool."
-Traditional English Ballad
Oblivious to the would-be lovers, a slender woman in a skintight suit if black linen and leather and a mask that disguised long, dark hair and catlike green eyes crept across the Castle gate, keeping to the shadows. She was obviously used to moving with stealth, for the guards, as alert as they were, did not see her.
She crept into the courtyard, glancing around, not wanting to be seen, before unleashing a grappling hook from her belt and attaching it to a high window. With uncanny speed she scaled the building, climbing through the window. She smiled cattily and almost purred aloud. The King's treasure-room. She leisurely took her time, glancing around the impressive vault, filled to the very brim with rare, glittery findings. At last she spotted what she was looking for. A small dagger lay on a marble column. Inset in the dagger was a faintly glowing green stone. Smiling to herself, she tucked the dagger into her belt and made her way down the building's wall. Pity she hadn't run into the Batman while she was here, she thought to herself as she left, as quietly as she had entered. Ah, well. Next time, perhaps. She hoped. For now, she had a handsome reward coming to her for retrieving this dagger. She wasn't sure what was so special about it, though. Glowing stone made you more visible to your enemy. Especially if you were fighting, like she often was, during the night.
Still, the bounty for this weapon was too considerable to not take advantage of. Smiling, she mounted her horse, Tigers-eye, and galloped off, the mufflers on the mare's hoof making her tread almost as silent as her own.
***
After Bruce had kissed her one last time and extracted a promise that she would meet him the next day in the Palace's training yards, he had vanished into the night, leaving her to walk back in her guest quarters, sighing. At least she no longer needed answers.
Diana changed out of her stiff formal gown and into a brief sleeping tunic that showed off her long legs. Before the full-length silver mirror, she let her hair down and combed it out, sighing as the silken mass fell about her shoulders, crackling about the skin of her back and neck. She did her stretching exercises before bed, even though she was exhausted. She had not been sleeping well as of late. Her dreams were somewhat…intense.
At last, sore and tired, she slid between the bed sheets, smiling -with the bliss one can have only when she is tired and knows that she is about to get a good night's sleep- as her head sank into the goose down-stuffed pillow. Her eyes fluttered closed and she fell asleep almost immediately.
Hours later, she was awakened to a hand reaching out and shaking her shoulder. Grumbling, she sat up only to see her squire, Cassandra, standing close to her bed. "What is it?" Diana snarled irritably. She was *not* used to being jostled awake in the still-dark hours of the morning.
Cassandra hid a smile, though not very well. "Queen Hippolyta is here. She wants an audience with you. Shall I show her in…?" She paused and smirked visibly. "…Or would you rather I give you a few more minutes alone with this 'Bruce' you've been moaning about in your sleep for the past three hours?" She laughed as she dodged the Princess' expertly thrown pillow.
"All right, all right. I'll send her in."
Queen Hippolyta, immaculate and pristine as ever, walked into Diana's chambers.
The Princess sat up, shoving tangled black hair out of her face. "Hello, mother." "Diana." The queen responded. She sat on the edge of the bed. "I need to speak to you about a matter of great importance."
The Amazonian princess twisted her hair away from her face and back into an imperfect yet elegant knot at the nape of her neck. "Go on," she said. "There are…rumors about yourself and Gotham's duke." Hippolyta said at last, her tone a mixture of primness and questioning. Diana froze in mid-twist.
"What sort of rumors," she asked neutrally. The Queen looked exasperated and angry. "Goddess curse it, Diana, you know what I mean! You cannot go off cavorting with a Duke when the King of Atlantis wants your hand!"
Diana leapt angrily to her feet. "Don't you dare dictate to me what I can and cannot do, Mother! From what I have seen, Orin is cold-hearted, bad-tempered, and were I to be with him, would treat me as little more than an object of his pleasure!" She snapped, furiously.
"And you mean to tell me that the duke is any better than that?!" The Queen shouted back with equal vehemence. "He is nothing but a lackwitted fool with a knack for seduction! Do you know how many women he has been with?! Goddess, Diana, the man attempts to bed with anything female that moves! Are you *looking* to get hurt by someone!?" "No, Mother, I'm not. Are you so untrustworthy of my judgement?" She turned from the queen. "At least he *respects* me. He looks at me as more than an object, more than a princess." She shot a furious look at her mother. "More than a name on a marriage contract."
The Queen looked stunned. Diana had never spoken to her in such a way. Her mouth settled into a grim expression. She rose. "Diana, I must put what is best before Themiscira before everything. Even you, my daughter. I cannot allow you to anger the King!" Diana stiffened. "So you would put politics before your own daughter." The queen's eyes showed hints of regret. "When necessary, yes. I will not…I *cannot* allow you to continue this…courtship with the duke of Wayne."
Diana glared fiercely over at her monarch "I can see that you are not in a mood to hear reason." She stated coldly. "We are, however, is not finished." Diana looked her mother in the eye. "Oh, yes we are. As far as I am concerned, this conversation is not only finished, but also pointless. I will *not* marry the King of Atlantis"
The queen stared furiously at her daughter for a moment, then turned and stalked furiously out of the room. Diana flung herself down on the bed, grinding her teeth in anger. Damn it, why was everything so accursedly intricate?! Alliances and back-stabbing, betrayal and promises… Damn the Royal court, Damn diplomacy, and damn marital alliances!! If Bruce weren't there, life at court would be completely intolerable…
***
((Well? You like? You hate? Questions, comments, & concerns should be e-mailed to SuperherogirlCat@aol.com I'd appreciate feedback, but this is one of my first fanfic attempts so please be kind. This is a continuing effort.))
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