Pairings/Characters: Diana/Dinah, mention of Clark/Bruce and other JLA’ers
Genres: Challenge, Drama
Rating: Mild ‘R’
Summary: Diana connects with a kindred spirit in battle.
Date Of Completion: August 21, 2008
Date Of Posting: August 21, 2008
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 491
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Notes: Written as requested for disturbed_muse and fits the 2008 Wonder Woman Love Fic/Art Calendar Challenge (August). Prompt: Sword. Enjoy! :)
The entire series can be found here.
Diana felt her muscles burn and her nerves sing with the thrill of battle. Powerful legs propelled her forward, her sword clanging against the shield of an enemy soldier. She was pleased to have the opportunity to use her sword. Io would be pleased as well.
Multicolored jewels glittered on the hilt, the crest of the Royal House of Themyscira engraved on the metal. It matched the crest on her shield, and she forged ahead, cutting a swath through the overwhelming numbers.
The Justice League was outnumbered, but not overly concerned. With their special powers they could overcome this alien army, and once they got by them and into the stronghold they would be able to capture the usurper of the throne on this world. The rightful Queen was being held captive, and Diana had every intention of restoring her to the throne.
It was a Princess’ duty, after all.
Her teammates were making good headway through the hordes. Clark and Bruce were working in tandem, as always, and there were flashes of brilliance from Roy, Vixen, and John. The other J’onn was his usual placid self, steady as a rock.
As for tandems…
Dinah was fighting a few yards away, as expert as any fighter that Diana had ever seen. In fact, she could have been born an Amazon, her fluidity and skill were so good. Blond hair flying, the Black Canary was forging ahead, somehow keeping an eye on the other members of the team.
Years of fighting and sparring together giving the two of them the pure instincts needed to move as one. Feinting, advancing, each one using the strengths of the other as they surged ahead.
She was a true Sister of the Sword.
Dinah let loose her Canary Cry, driving back several soldiers at once. Diana smiled with predatory glee. The Cry never failed.
She saw Clark deflect a beam of lethal light from Bruce. They were good warriors, but not Warriors.
They didn’t understand the way battle sang in your veins. She was a Princess of Peace, and yet Athena lived in her as she fought.
Dinah understood. Trained by Ted Grant, the JSA’s Wildcat, she had absorbed his love of a fight. Dinah would always look for peaceful settlements, but if battle came, she was ready, and she understood what was sometimes necessary.
Diana glanced up at the skies, seeing Kendra glorying in the fight: another woman worthy.
But it was Dinah whom Diana fought beside, and Dinah whom she would make love to when this was all over, in perfumed waters and soft candlelight, the smell of jasmine and roses filling the bathing hall on Paradise, silken hair flowing over soft-yet-strong breasts, and Diana would taste strong thighs and the sweetness between them.
Joy lit her face as she smashed through a phalanx of soldiers.
A Warrior knew the half the joy of battle was in its ending, and who was your reward.