Legendary

We found Hessia in the main temple, a building like a smaller Parthenon made from native stone, gracefully weathered, and open on one side. There were no doors. It was empty aside from a brazier where a fire perpeptually burned. Beautifully carved, human-sized sculptures of the five patron goddesses were arranged in an arc. Lovely Hestia sat by the brazier as if tending the flames; its light licked the pale, fine stone gently and made her carved, kind face seem alive. An epiblema covered her hair and shoulders. Next to her stood Demeter, her face tranquil although worn with care. Tiny metal pins, beautifully worked, were set where brooches would have held her peplos on her arms and shoulders and she held a sheaf of wheat and a pomegranate was under the toe of her sandal. Artemis was slightly larger than the other figures, her face stern and focused. Her short chiton was carved so it looked as though she stood in a breeze, and it looked as if she was in the process of drawing her arrow as she brought the bow up to firing position. Unlike veiled Hestia and Athena with her helmet, and Demeter and Aphrodite with their hair up and carefully styled, Artemis was shown with her hair in a slightly unwinding braid. Aphrodite to her other side had a gentle smile on her face, her peplos seeming lighter and more revealing than the others, girdled by a belt not dissimilar to Hippolyta's. She carried an apple in her hand. At the far end of the arc was Athena, her helm set back on her head so that you could see her narrow, knowing gaze. Her shield with a representation of Medusa's head (I suddenly wondered if she was with the other Gorgons behind the Doors of Doom) leaned against her leg, and the butt of a spear rested on the ground, held firmly in her hand. It was a plain weapon but had a beautifully worked point. The skill of the carvers was such that it appeared that the statues could start breathing and moving at any point.

After allowing Torunn and me to wonder at the exquisite sculpture, Diana led us around the grouping, where there was an odd smell in the air. I couldn't keep my nose from wrinkling, and Hessia turned from a crack in the wall that extended down into the floor. "I am not an oracle such as was found in Apollo's Delphi," she said quietly. "I am not struck with ambiguous visions that can be made to fit a variety of circumstances. This part of the temple allows petitioners a place to relax and put themselves into a state where they can hear the words of the goddesses. My role is to give voice to the goddesses when they would speak, but they also take my memories of the words; thus the communication remains strictly with the goddess and the petitioner." We followed Diana's reluctant example and knelt in silence, and after a time, I felt relaxed and open, but with a feeling like my cells buzzed with energy. When Hessia spoke again, her voice held that peculiar resonance that Menalippe's had held too.

"What has been said was not meant to wound," she said sternly. "But the truth has value and should be known." Her voice changed, becoming lighter and alluring. "You should know the depth and source of your powers," she said compassionately. More austerely, "And what your sisters suffered, so that none others must endure." In a husky voice, "You should know the trials of your mother, that she be honored for her sacrifice." The warmer, more beguiling voice: "Let not your heart grow cold and closed, but let it embrace those who bear different burdens." The stern voice: "War is coming. Clear your mind of hurts and face the gathering threat, determining where your part in the knot is and how you can act, swiftly and with the best plans and intent. Stand not upon ceremony. None can stand alone." And the warmest voice, comforting: "None of you is alone. You have love everywhere and comrades by your sides. You must have faith in your purpose and abilities and the love that is in your hearts, for where there is love there is home."

My head started to ache and I rubbed my forehead and temples. When I looked up, Hessia was looking at us with compassion. My companions also seemed to be in discomfort. "There is always a price for communication with the goddesses," she said gently. "Go now into the fresh air and to lunch, to restore yourselves. Your public commitments are not yet over."

Once we were away from the temple and the vapors cleared from my lungs, I said, "It was a lot easier to communicate with Odin. He usually just yelled." Torunn grinned at me for this description of her grandfather, and even Diana managed a small smile. We went to the plaza where meals were commonly taken, and after eating lightly, Diana stood.

"The demonstration of your skill will take place mid-afternoon; you have time to rest and prepare," she said to me. "I will return in time for it." She turned and strode away for some alone time.

"Is Diana well?" Mala said, coming to our sides, a worried expression on her face.

"She unexpectedly had words with her mother," I said, finishing my cup of water. "It upset her." Mala nodded. "But she'll be fine, she just needs a moment by herself."

Mala nodded and her face cleared. She began asking Torunn questions about Asgard, and I excused myself. I hadn't expected any of Hippolyta's story and it had rocked me. The casual misogyny of my youth was nothing compared to what the Amazons had endured, and even the rougher, more malignant treatment of women in Valhalla was better. But what the Joker had tried to do to me was similar. I walked out of the city, smiling back at the curious faces, until I reached the western cliffs. They were deserted, and I sat down, dangling my feet over the edge, letting go of the tensions of the day and emptying my mind.

"Am I intruding?" a voice asked hesitantly, and I opened my eyes to see Hippolyta standing a distance away, her fingers twisting together.

"Not at all," I said, standing and brushing off bits of grass. "Now I understand why Diana wanted to come back before she told our council of her suspicions. It's never easy to battle a god, and every scrap of knowledge will help. This is a wonderful place, and I am grateful that she invited me here," I said conversationally.

"Even after what passed in the council chamber?" she asked, and I nodded.

"There's a feeling of sisterhood here that I haven't felt since before Ragnarok. There's a kind of... resonance, or something, that comes from being around others of your own sex, with the same goals and cause, bound together by more than circumstance, a shared and disciplined goal. I miss it. Out of dozens of us, less than a dozen survived, and of that number, only four of us returned to Midgard, which is what the Asgardians call the outer world here. And while there are four of us, I'm the only one with wings still. It makes a difference, however slight. The others miss their wings."

"I worry about Diana and what she will do," her mother admitted quietly.

I paused, thinking, and choosing my words with some care. "Diana isn't naive, and she knew the basic history of your people. I don't think she knew much of the specifics, though."

"No, no one cares to revisit those dark days." I nodded.

"I was kidnapped and raped by a man who planned to break me, body, mind, and spirit. But I was able to get away, and in doing so, beat him up pretty badly, and I've done it again since, the man can't take no for an answer. So I understand your experiences in a way that Diana does not. I almost envy you your sisters in the ordeal, however." I rushed on to explain. "Not so they could share the degradation, but because they gave you a reason to persevere, a source of strength, a reason to be strong. It's a lot easier to give up when it's just you. I wonder, not often these days, I have other nightmares, how long I would have lasted myself. But I don't think Diana ever faced that ordeal for herself, and she has been a lone Amazon out in the world. She hasn't carried the burden of leadership other than in combat with the League, I don't think. She doesn't know how to really understand those sacrifices, and as yet, she isn't a mother. I haven't had to sacrifice one of my children the way you have when she went outside the mist, and all my children were wanted, so I don't have an identical experience to yours, but there are enough similarities that I'm very sympathetic. My older son followed his father and grandfather fighting the criminals of our city, and that can be very dangerous although at least I usually knew where he was. My guess is that Diana's been hit with a lot of stuff she doesn't really know what to do with just yet. I can't claim to know her well because she is a very private person, but she is also the most fair person I have ever met. I think it will take her some time for her to come to grips with what she's learned."

"Do you think that she will forgive me?" The queen sounded uncharacteristically vulnerable. I considered.

"I honestly don't think that there's anything that you need to ask forgiveness for, unless it's for not telling her the entire truth at some point before now. Because you all had valid reasons for what you did, and I can't say that they're still not valid, based on what little I've observed here. Your society isn't perfectly harmonious and peaceful; I've seen differences of opinions and that's natural, as everybody has their own ideas and desires. Your sisterhood is closed and contained, which means that controversy has to be handled very carefully. It's not a responsibility I envy. And once Diana has had time to think about it--and if she wants to speak of it, I will always be available to her--I think she'll understand that. She needs to respect your choice, at the very least," I said firmly.

"I pray that it is so," she said. "That she will understand that there are things I did to protect her, and things that I did to protect my sisters, and I did what I could to reconcile the two responsibilities."

"I think that she will. It's a lot to take in, and it isn't a pleasant history to hear."

She let out an exhalation and looked over the sea to the mist in the difference. "This is the only time I have been grateful for the knowledge that she will depart."

"She'll come back," I said confidently. Hippolyta gave me a side eye but didn't comment. I smiled. "Mothers and daughters often fight and disagree, it's not the end of your relationship, and you're far from the first mother not to tell her daughter a painful truth. She's upset and confused right now, is all."

"You seem very certain."

"Based on my experience, I am. Martha was the more rambunctious of the twins, but Iris' brother Miles is the troublemaker of her set. I've spent plenty of time in the trenches."

Hippolyta was interested, so I told her some funny stories of the kids, and she seemed more serene when she turned back for the city. I stretched out in the grass and took a little nap, waking in plenty of time for the contest and ambled back to my quarters to change into the costume part of Valkyrie's gear, feeling refreshed. Kasia met me there, with thorns from a bush that grew only on the islands here, and taught me how to make the bracelet, a matter of lining up the thorns and binding them together at the base with the ribbons. You could prick yourself on the thorns still, but not all the time. She was right, it was easy enough, and we talked a little about how the ribbons were made; I'd never made anything like them in Valhalla. Then we unwrapped the thorns and she gave me a little pouch to take them home in, with some extras in case Daniel and I were clumsy. I tucked it inside my bag for safekeeping immediately, and since there was still time, dropped my armor off at the field where I'd be fighting, and she took me to the smithy. Io was pleased to see me and we poked around together; a blacksmith shop is pretty much the same for anybody unless you have highly unusual skills like Emma, but this was clean and tidy like mine, with shutters to let in light when judging the temperature of metal by color wasn't necessary. It was nice to talk shop; I enjoyed having some commonality with an Amazon, and she came with us when it was time to return to the field.

Martha came back in time to watch, but it had been agreed that Iris would be kept away. For one thing, I didn't want her to know about the wings just yet, until I was sure she could understand why I needed to keep them quiet as long as I could. I honestly didn't think that I could keep them a secret forever back home, but I didn't want to deal with the fuss until I had to. And now I wondered if she and Miles would be hurt that they weren't told before. Well, I never claimed to be a perfect mom, I just did what I thought was right and fair. And secondly, I didn't want her to see me get hurt, which I would, armor or not. Diana was a scary good fighter and she had a lot of emotion that could fuel her for awhile. I wasn't a pushover by any means, but Iris had cried a couple of months ago when I'd cut myself fixing some veggies for her for a snack when Alfred was otherwise engaged. I stretched and listened to the field fill. Somebody dropped to the grass beside me, and I looked over to see Torunn, stretching herself. She gave me a quick smile, and when I got up, she was up to help me.

"I can gear up myself," I offered. "You've got your own to do."

She shook her head. "You're up first," she said, kneeling to deftly fasten my greaves. Martha grinned and handed me my breastplate, fastening it at the back and putting the pauldrons over my shoulders into place before stepping back to allow Torunn to clip the cape into place. Torunn then buckled the vambraces over my forearms.

Martha stepped back and watched approvingly, then frowned a bit. "Mom, the color scheme and general look of the thing, aside from the helmet, and your wings, of course, looks a whole lot like Uncle Bucky's new identity of the Winter Knight." I also frowned. "Not a surprise, really, since Uncle Steve designed the costume and you did the armor. But you might want to think about that if you're going to be a lone vigilante."

I huffed out a breath and thought about it. "You're probably right." Then I grinned back at her. "You don't think the little skirt is enough of a difference?" She laughed, but stopped when she saw Diana enter the field. She looked grim. I sighed and slid my hands into the gauntlets that Torunn and Martha held for me, flexing my fingers to get them settled just so for the fight. "Ok, Torunn, hold off entering the field until I can't stand my ground anymore," I instructed. She met my eyes and nodded. Martha looked inquisitive, but held her question. I shook out my hands, did a last-minute weapons check, and strode out to the middle of the field, my armor causing the Amazons to comment. I reached Diana, saw the anger simmering in her eyes, and mentally heaved a sigh. We clasped arms and turned to salute the queen. Diana sketched a slight bow, and I raised my sword. I don't bow to Odin, so I'm not going to bow to anybody else, but an acknowledgement was appropriate and I like to observe the niceties, be a good guest. I stepped to the side and turned to face Diana.