Pairings/Characters: Diana Prince, Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne
Summary: On the eve of battle, Diana waits with her comrades-in-arms.
Date Of Completion: October 6, 2009
Date Of Posting: October 7, 2009
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 291
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Note: Written for my LJ Third Anniversary Fic Request Meme for ava_jamison. Pairing/Threesome: Trinity (Clark, Bruce, Diana). Prompt: Comrades-in-arms. :)
Diana eagerly awaited the signal for the battle to begin, hefting her sword, her golden armor snug to her body. Her blood sang with anticipation.
This battle would require every available Justice League member, central and auxiliary. Her Beloved was safe for the moment, in reserve with the other pilots, ready to serve when called.
She and her JLA colleagues were the first wave of combatants, the front line, the shock troops. All were prepared, ready to defend.
To her right was Clark, calm and steady, scarlet cape billowing out behind him, bright costume a match for hers in colors. He was a sunburst ready to shine.
To her left was Bruce, his stillness that of a ninja, his black cape a counterpoint to Clark’s. His eyes were watching, cataloging, planning, shimmering like the moon’s placid silvery light.
She was the planet’s greatest Warrior, Queen Hippolyta’s daughter, the blood of the finest Amazon warriors surging within her on the eve of battle.
Clark was a demi-god, who would have been right at home on Olympus, his power capable of bringing a world to its knees, his array of powers reminiscent of the Olympian pantheon, his heart that of a simple Kansas farmboy.
Bruce was a mortal god, his body pushed and honed to the peak of physical perfection, a master of martial arts and a master strategist, the dark fiefdom of Gotham in his blood as his cape nurtured and sheltered shining and sometimes-broken birds.
She was aware of their strengths and weaknesses, and each one complemented the other.
Clark and Bruce were her brothers, best friends, and soulmates.
The clarion call was sounded, clear and golden in the crisp autumn air.
They stood shoulder-to-shoulder, called to battle.
They were comrades-in-arms.