starsandsea (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
starsandsea) wrote2010-11-07 06:47 pm
starsandsea) wrote2010-11-07 06:47 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: Twelve Dancing Amazons
Title: Twelve Dancing Amazons
Rating: PG
Pairing: Steve/Diana
Word Count: 3878
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Author's Note: A very belated birthday present for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
bradygirl_12! She asked for Steve and Diana in a fairy tale. This story is based on the fairy tale 'The Dancing Princesses'. Unbetaed, so point and I shall correct! :)
He woke. Birds chattered nosily in the tress above him. Their branches were spread high, toward the sun, so the light that fell on his face was dappled. It was still far too bright. He groaned, blinking, then slowly sat up, the world spinning for several moments. He closed his eyes, fighting the urge to be sick. What had happened? He couldn't remember. He couldn't remember... anything. He gasped, eyes opening wide.
He couldn't remember anything. Where he was. Who he was.
Fear clutched his heart and he swallowed. His clothes were blue. Blue, but darker than the sky. He was sitting in lush green grass and flowers that he did not know. He frowned. How could he remember? What could he do, where was he?
He took a deep breath. No point in panicking. Very slowly, head aching, he stood, clutching at one of the trees for support. He was in a clearing, in a... wood, or true forest? He could find that out later. He could stand, and... yes, he could walk. Save for the throbbing in his head, he was uninjured. There were no signs as to how he had got here, or who he was.
He pushed that thought away. Shelter, he had to find shelter, somewhere...
*****
He did not know how long he had been here. He did not know where he was. He still did not know who he was. Every time he tried to discover where he was, he would just end up walking in circles, to return to the clearing where he had awoken.
He had managed, at least, to find shelter. And a river. Little enough food, but there was so much here that he could not put a name to. He was not sure if that was his memory failing him, as it had in other things. Or if, even with his memory intact, he would not have known.
But he knew that he was not alone.
At night, he would awaken from troubled dreams, where he was somehow flying through the air, an aching yearning filling him as he looked upon the sky, and hear singing. And he knew, deep within himself, that he had never heard anything more beautiful. When music would accompany it...
He had tried to find it, so many times. But he would become lost, and his head would ache; he would be back in the glade, frustration rolling through him. No matter how many times he tried... Until he saw her.
*****
He had heard the singing again, that night. Then the music. Both had made his blood rush, as normal. His ears were ringing and his heart pounding. He could not ignore it; it was impossible. He had to follow it.
The tress hindered his progress. They were not always green, but sometimes silver and gold, making him dizzy and confused; half blind with their radiance. But, always, the music pulled him on. On and on and on, until, gasping for breath, tears in his eyes he... was not in the glade.
He was in a glade, but not his. Always, always, before, he had returned to his glade, no matter how hard he had tried. An owl hooted near his head, and he ducked as it took flight, wings gleaming in the moonlight.
The glade was empty, but... Laughter. The sound of it tumbled trough his soul and he saw... No words could describe her. Even through she was surrounded by... eleven, there were eleven of them, jaw droppingly beautiful women, she stood out from them all.
Her dark hair shone, tumbling about her as she danced, like a waterfall at night. Her skin was pale and glowed gently under the moonlight. Her eyes... He gasped for breath, trying to keep quiet, but unable to, in the face of her beauty. Her eyes were the most beautiful blue he knew he had ever seen. Her face... He almost wanted to weep. How could anything be so beautiful? How could...?
She turned, dancing amidst the other women. Their eyes met; he saw the shock upon her face and... He was back in the glade, alone, only the memory of the woman in his mind.
*****
She haunted his thoughts. He could hear her laughter in his ears, then turn wildly, looking for her, but she would be gone. He would see her in his dreams, dancing, the both of them dancing together, and the way she looked at him... He would awaken, shuddering and moaning in yearning from those dreams.
Each night he heard the music again; each night he tried to see her again, but his memory failed him, as it always did. He would get as far as the tress of silver, sometimes the trees of gold, but then could go no further, and the music would fade away.
He could not remember, and he cursed.
*****
The music came down upon him again, driving him forth in search of it, and the beautiful woman. He stumbled through the tress, silver, then gold, then gasped, hardly daring to hope, and looked up, the music loud in his ears.
They were dancing. She was dancing, in the midst of the other women, as before.
He had forgotten just how beautiful she was. Her hair, flying around her; how he longed to tangle his fingers in it, feel its silky softness...!
But some instinct was keeping him back, keeping him hidden. But he could not hide from her. Her eyes found his, and he gasped, suddenly afraid, and stumbled back, for the look upon her face... He had never seen anyone look so angry, knew it as a truth, though he could remember nothing. He turned, almost of the verge of weeping, then suddenly she was there, before him.
He gasped again. She was so close, he could reach out and touch her; could smell her sweat.
"You should not be here. No man, nor mortal, is allowed to step foot upon this island. You must leave, for the others will not show as much restraint as I, and will kill you instantly. Do you understand?"
He nodded, through his heart was pounding wildly in his ears, and desolation was sweeping over him at the thought of never seeing her again. "But..." I have no way to leave. I do not know where or who I am. But before he could say those things, there was another voice.
"Diana?"
The woman turned her head in the direction of it, already starting to leave, then paused and looked at him again. "Heed my words." And then she was gone.
*****
He heard the music after that, but it was quieter, then louder, echoing through his mind. The image of the woman - Diana - haunted him. As did her words. She had said that he had to leave, but how could he? He still did not know where he was, how far away he was from his home - if he even had a home. Did he have a family, waiting and worried about him, or maybe thinking that he was dead?
The two yearnings fought within him, then. The desperate yearning to see Diana again, to hear her speak to him, to touch her soft dark hair, and a homesickness for a home he could not remember, did not even know if he had.
Maybe that was what made him careless, in the end. When he woke up one morning to find a sword at his throat.
*****
She was there, suddenly, and the blonde haired woman who had been about to kill him paused. They seemed to be arguing, but it was in a different language, and he could not understand it. Diana seemed to be being very vocal about it, however, and the other women with her - warriors? They were all carrying weapons, and it seemed to spark off some memory in his mind. But it was gone, before he could find it, leaving only a sense of familiarity, and a sudden knowledge that he might be able to use a sword, and use it well.
He could not help but wish that he had not remembered that while he was trying to be as non-threatening as possible.
The argument seemed to be over, and Diana stepped forward. He stared at her. She looked... different, from the woman he had seen dancing.
"Can you understand me, man?"
He nodded, eyes wide, careful not to move too much, because of the sword still at his throat.
"The punishment for a man who sets foot upon this island is death."
He swallowed; her voice was very different from when she had said almost those exact same words to him, before. The warriors with her shifted, and there were eager gleams in their eyes.
"However, no man has been stupid enough to come here for many, many years now. So we will take you to our Queen, that she may witness the law carried out."
He stared at her, despair starting to curl about his heart. Fear. He was going to die? But before he could do anything, the sword was removed from his throat, and a blindfold placed over his eyes. His hands, too, were bound behind his back. The last image he saw was Diana, looking down at him gravely, with worry in her beautiful eyes.
*****
He did not know where he was. He did not know... He had half walked, half been dragged, to this place, then forced to his knees. He could hear the sound of people, hisses and gasps. Could feel their glares upon him. What was he going to do? Diana's words kept ringing through his mind.
He was going to die, be put to the death, never knowing, never being able to remember who he was. It did not seem fair, at all, that he should die for something he could not even remember.
There was a hush, and his head was pushed down, so that it touched the ground. He heard Diana's voice. "We found this man in the woods in the south-east, Mother. We brought him here for you to be witness to the law being carried out."
There was another voice now, like and yet not, Diana's. "Then carry it out, Daughter."
"We have not yet questioned him, Mother. Surely we should first ensure that he has no companions?"
Diana's mother must have agreed, because his head was raised from from the ground, though the blindfold still remained.
"Who are you and why are you here, man?" Diana's voice was strong and carrying.
He swallowed, his mouth dry, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. "I don't know," he whispered. He could feel the intensity of the gazes upon increase.
"Surely you know who you are."
He shook his head. "I don't know."
"You do not expect us to believe that you honestly do not know who you are?" That was Diana's mother, now.
He swallowed. "Believe it or not, it is the truth."
There were gasps at that, gasps of outrage, and a sword was once more placed at his throat. There were some harsh exchanges in the language he did not understand, and the sword was slowly removed. There was a heavy silence. He tried not to move, sure that there were many other weapons pointed at him.
"You will come with me." That was Diana's voice. He felt the rope that bound his hands being raised, and he stood, then followed her, feeling the eyes of many upon him.
*****
His hands were unbound and the blindfold removed. He blinked. He was in a... cloth house. What were they called? Oh yes, tents. He was seated on a chair. Diana was seated in a chair opposite him. He tried not to stare at her, but it was impossible. She was so beautiful. Her dark hair tumbling about her, a white dress flowing. Her feet were bare, he noticed, and he smiled. Her blue eyes were watching him gravely.
"You really do not know who you are?" Her voice was soft now.
He shook his head. "No."
She frowned, and was that sympathy in her eyes? "What do you know, then?"
He paused, wondering just how much to tell her, then looked into her eyes again, and knew he could only ever tell her the truth. "I woke up... I do not know how long ago it was. Weeks, maybe? I would hear music, and I tried to follow it. I only succeeded twice, when I saw you dancing."
Diana took a deep breath. There was cautious hope in her eyes. "You found your way to the Dancing Glade twice! I thought I saw you, the first time, but I thought that you were-" She cut herself off, and he was surprised to almost see her blushing.
She cleared her throat, looking away from him. "You are on the island of Themyscira. The home of us Amazons. No men are allowed to set foot upon it." She looked at him now, and he blinked. The word 'Amazon' vaguely meant something to him, but he was not sure what.
"I am sorry," was all he said, and Diana's lips quirked into a smile.
"And yet, this may prove our salvation. You have found your way to the Dancing Glade..." She paused, and a look of sorrow came over her face. It brought pain to his heart. "Twelve of my people, including myself, have been cursed. Each night, against our will, we must go to the Dancing Glade, and dance until dawn, or our shoes are worn through, whichever comes first. This has been happening for so long now... My Mother went to the Gods, to Athena, for wisdom, and she told us that the curse could only be broken if one 'not of this land' found their way to the Dancing Glade, and kept watch over us the entire night, not allowing themselves to fall asleep under the lure of Pan's pipes."
He stared at her, mouth open. "You... you think that I...?"
Diana was looking at him gravely again. "Yes. My heart tells me that you are the one to break this curse upon us. You must. It is your only chance for survival."
He took a deep breath. "It seems I do not have much choice myself."
He was surprised to see her wince, at that. But before she could respond, the flap of the tent was raised and a warrior who stood there said something. Diana nodded, and stood. Some habit made him rise as well, and Diana's lips quirked again. "Stay here. You must rest, before tonight. Food and drink will be brought to you."
She was gone before he could respond.
*****
He had been blindfolded again, then taken back to 'his' glade, as night had fallen. Diana had not been there, but then, she might have already left herself, for her own part in this. He knew he had not been left alone. He could feels eyes upon him. And more than just that. He had seen the hope in Diana's eyes. It weighed upon him. What if he failed? What if he could not find the glade, as had happened before?
No. He steeled himself, taking a deep breath. He could not fail. He had to succeed; too much was at stake.
He sat, and tried to calm himself, as the last light went out of the sky. He was already feeling drowsy - the effect of the food and wine. It had been some time since he had had such rich fare - if ever. He had to-
His head snapped up. Faint music reached his ears, setting his blood pulsing. He stood, taking another deep breath, then, feeling the weight of hope upon him, started on his quest.
*****
He was running. He had to get to the glade as soon as possible, he... Almost ran straight into a woman, dressed in armour, yet unlike the other warriors he had seen. She had an owl, perched upon her right forearm. Its golden eyes blinked at him, and he fell to his knees, overcome, every thought process going blank.
The woman did not say anything, just stared at him, and he felt his entire soul being laid bare to her. She nodded, then let the owl fly free, and disappeared herself. He scrambled to his feet, and followed the silver owl as it led him forward, through the trees of silver and gold until...
They were just starting to dance. He took a deep breath, heart pounding, met Diana's eyes from across the glade, and smiled, seeing the relief and hope in her own.
*****
The music was throbbing in his veins, almost making him want to dance himself. It was hard to remember why he was here, that he had a quest, a mission. The music swirled, and he took a deep breath, Diana meeting his eyes as she danced, and he felt his resolve return.
None of these twelve women would be free, if he did not succeed. Diana would not be free, if he did not succeed. That seemed far more important than the fact that he could die, if he did not. Diana was... was... He barely knew her, but his heart knew that it was hers. From the moment he had first seen her.
That love gave him strength, through that long, long night, as the music thundered about him, threads of insanity twining about him; soft lullabies sung in his ears.
He kept his eyes on Diana, and let his love keep him strong.
*****
He blinked his eyes open. Diana was smiling down at him and he smiled up at her. Her eyes were alight with joy and he felt joy flood through him, at the sight.
"You broke the curse." Her voice sounded wondering, as if she could not quite believe it, yet.
He smiled again. "I had to free you."
Diana's smile faltered, a little, and she looked away, then turned back to him, face smooth once again. "My Mother wishes to speak with you. I shall tell her you are awake, now." She rose and stood, and had left the tent, that he now realized was the same one he had been in the day before, before he could speak.
What was going to happen to him, now? Was he... The tent flap was raised, and a warrior stood here. "The Queen will see you, now."
He blinked, then stood, and followed her out of the tent, and through the streets of the city, trying not to gawp. This place, with its elegant buildings, it was... incredible. But not too incredible that he did not notice the warriors following him, weapons ready to be raised.
He was lead to be a plaza, where, he realized, he had stood before, when he was questioned, only a day ago. Diana was standing by the throne, and the woman upon it... She looked as though she was only a few years Diana's elder. He knelt before her without being prompted, and there was a silence, though like before, he could feel the eyes upon him.
"Mortal. You have succeeded in the quest laid upon you. Our twelve warriors, including our Daughter, have been freed. For that, you have our thanks."
He kept his head lowered. "Thank you, your Majesty," he whispered.
"We are now minded to reward you, in the manner that will best aid you."
He raised his head, a little, and Diana stepped forward, a glowing golden rope in her hands. "This may help you to regain your memory," she said softly. He felt his heart leap, either at her closeness, or the prospect of remembering, he was not sure which. She wrapped the golden rope around his wrists. "This is the Lasso of Truth, and I am its keeper. I bid you now to know the truth, and remember." She declared in a ringing voice.
He blinked, and then... images rushed over him like flood water, leaving him fallen and panting; gasping as he tried to process them all. He felt tears wet his cheeks, and knew that he was shaking. He felt the Lasso being unwound from his hands, and he blinked again, feeling the images and memories start to settle. A little shakily, still, he raised himself so he was kneeling again, wiped the tears from his face.
"You remember now." The Queen stated.
He nodded, taking another deep breath, feeling himself trembling, still. "Yes, your Majesty. Thank you."
"Who are you? Why are you here?"
He almost smiled; the questions were the same she had asked before. "My name is Steve. I am a Captain in the army of Prince Bruce and Lord Kal-El. I was exploring the seas around here when there was a storm, and I was shipwrecked. I meant, and still mean, no ill will to you or your people."
"And this prince and lord whom you serve? Do they share your sentiments?"
"Once I return and tell them that this island is where the legendary Amazons dwell, they will ensure that none of their people will bother you further, your Majesty. And so will their allies, I am sure."
There were hints of surprise upon faces, and Steve smiled again, feeling so much more confident now he knew who he was. "They are good men," he added.
There was a silence, until Diana stepped forward, looking down at him, then, to his surprise, turned and faced her mother.
"Mother, we can trust this man, and my heart tells me that we can trust his Lords." The Queen nodded, but it seemed Diana was not yet finished. "We owe this man here a great debt. I, personally, owe him a debt. In light of that, I would like to accompany him back to his home, and speak on your behalf to Prince Bruce and Lord Kal-El."
There was absolute silence. Then: pandemonium, as everyone talked at once, instantly silenced when the Queen rose her hand. "You wish to leave here, Daughter? With a man?" Her voice was incredulous.
Steve saw Diana straighten. "I ask to be appointed as your ambassador to the Outside World." She paused. "If we do not make this step, others may find us who are far less noble than this man, and his Lords."
There was a very long silence. Before him, Diana stood as still as a statue, only her dark hair moving in the breeze.
"Your words are wise, Daughter, though I wish another could go in your place, even as I know that they can not." The Queen was resigned, and sighed, a mother now. "At least come back to us, once alliances and treaties have been made."
"I will, Mother. I promise you."
Another sigh from the Queen, then she stood; the audience over. Everyone slowly drifted away, leaving him and Diana alone.
Steve slowly stood, and Diana turned to look at him. She smiled, and the look in her eyes... "Come. We have much to discuss before we leave."
Steve looked at her, a whole world of possibilities at his feet, and smiled.
Rating: PG
Pairing: Steve/Diana
Word Count: 3878
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Author's Note: A very belated birthday present for
bradygirl_12! She asked for Steve and Diana in a fairy tale. This story is based on the fairy tale 'The Dancing Princesses'. Unbetaed, so point and I shall correct! :)He woke. Birds chattered nosily in the tress above him. Their branches were spread high, toward the sun, so the light that fell on his face was dappled. It was still far too bright. He groaned, blinking, then slowly sat up, the world spinning for several moments. He closed his eyes, fighting the urge to be sick. What had happened? He couldn't remember. He couldn't remember... anything. He gasped, eyes opening wide.
He couldn't remember anything. Where he was. Who he was.
Fear clutched his heart and he swallowed. His clothes were blue. Blue, but darker than the sky. He was sitting in lush green grass and flowers that he did not know. He frowned. How could he remember? What could he do, where was he?
He took a deep breath. No point in panicking. Very slowly, head aching, he stood, clutching at one of the trees for support. He was in a clearing, in a... wood, or true forest? He could find that out later. He could stand, and... yes, he could walk. Save for the throbbing in his head, he was uninjured. There were no signs as to how he had got here, or who he was.
He pushed that thought away. Shelter, he had to find shelter, somewhere...
*****
He did not know how long he had been here. He did not know where he was. He still did not know who he was. Every time he tried to discover where he was, he would just end up walking in circles, to return to the clearing where he had awoken.
He had managed, at least, to find shelter. And a river. Little enough food, but there was so much here that he could not put a name to. He was not sure if that was his memory failing him, as it had in other things. Or if, even with his memory intact, he would not have known.
But he knew that he was not alone.
At night, he would awaken from troubled dreams, where he was somehow flying through the air, an aching yearning filling him as he looked upon the sky, and hear singing. And he knew, deep within himself, that he had never heard anything more beautiful. When music would accompany it...
He had tried to find it, so many times. But he would become lost, and his head would ache; he would be back in the glade, frustration rolling through him. No matter how many times he tried... Until he saw her.
*****
He had heard the singing again, that night. Then the music. Both had made his blood rush, as normal. His ears were ringing and his heart pounding. He could not ignore it; it was impossible. He had to follow it.
The tress hindered his progress. They were not always green, but sometimes silver and gold, making him dizzy and confused; half blind with their radiance. But, always, the music pulled him on. On and on and on, until, gasping for breath, tears in his eyes he... was not in the glade.
He was in a glade, but not his. Always, always, before, he had returned to his glade, no matter how hard he had tried. An owl hooted near his head, and he ducked as it took flight, wings gleaming in the moonlight.
The glade was empty, but... Laughter. The sound of it tumbled trough his soul and he saw... No words could describe her. Even through she was surrounded by... eleven, there were eleven of them, jaw droppingly beautiful women, she stood out from them all.
Her dark hair shone, tumbling about her as she danced, like a waterfall at night. Her skin was pale and glowed gently under the moonlight. Her eyes... He gasped for breath, trying to keep quiet, but unable to, in the face of her beauty. Her eyes were the most beautiful blue he knew he had ever seen. Her face... He almost wanted to weep. How could anything be so beautiful? How could...?
She turned, dancing amidst the other women. Their eyes met; he saw the shock upon her face and... He was back in the glade, alone, only the memory of the woman in his mind.
*****
She haunted his thoughts. He could hear her laughter in his ears, then turn wildly, looking for her, but she would be gone. He would see her in his dreams, dancing, the both of them dancing together, and the way she looked at him... He would awaken, shuddering and moaning in yearning from those dreams.
Each night he heard the music again; each night he tried to see her again, but his memory failed him, as it always did. He would get as far as the tress of silver, sometimes the trees of gold, but then could go no further, and the music would fade away.
He could not remember, and he cursed.
*****
The music came down upon him again, driving him forth in search of it, and the beautiful woman. He stumbled through the tress, silver, then gold, then gasped, hardly daring to hope, and looked up, the music loud in his ears.
They were dancing. She was dancing, in the midst of the other women, as before.
He had forgotten just how beautiful she was. Her hair, flying around her; how he longed to tangle his fingers in it, feel its silky softness...!
But some instinct was keeping him back, keeping him hidden. But he could not hide from her. Her eyes found his, and he gasped, suddenly afraid, and stumbled back, for the look upon her face... He had never seen anyone look so angry, knew it as a truth, though he could remember nothing. He turned, almost of the verge of weeping, then suddenly she was there, before him.
He gasped again. She was so close, he could reach out and touch her; could smell her sweat.
"You should not be here. No man, nor mortal, is allowed to step foot upon this island. You must leave, for the others will not show as much restraint as I, and will kill you instantly. Do you understand?"
He nodded, through his heart was pounding wildly in his ears, and desolation was sweeping over him at the thought of never seeing her again. "But..." I have no way to leave. I do not know where or who I am. But before he could say those things, there was another voice.
"Diana?"
The woman turned her head in the direction of it, already starting to leave, then paused and looked at him again. "Heed my words." And then she was gone.
*****
He heard the music after that, but it was quieter, then louder, echoing through his mind. The image of the woman - Diana - haunted him. As did her words. She had said that he had to leave, but how could he? He still did not know where he was, how far away he was from his home - if he even had a home. Did he have a family, waiting and worried about him, or maybe thinking that he was dead?
The two yearnings fought within him, then. The desperate yearning to see Diana again, to hear her speak to him, to touch her soft dark hair, and a homesickness for a home he could not remember, did not even know if he had.
Maybe that was what made him careless, in the end. When he woke up one morning to find a sword at his throat.
*****
She was there, suddenly, and the blonde haired woman who had been about to kill him paused. They seemed to be arguing, but it was in a different language, and he could not understand it. Diana seemed to be being very vocal about it, however, and the other women with her - warriors? They were all carrying weapons, and it seemed to spark off some memory in his mind. But it was gone, before he could find it, leaving only a sense of familiarity, and a sudden knowledge that he might be able to use a sword, and use it well.
He could not help but wish that he had not remembered that while he was trying to be as non-threatening as possible.
The argument seemed to be over, and Diana stepped forward. He stared at her. She looked... different, from the woman he had seen dancing.
"Can you understand me, man?"
He nodded, eyes wide, careful not to move too much, because of the sword still at his throat.
"The punishment for a man who sets foot upon this island is death."
He swallowed; her voice was very different from when she had said almost those exact same words to him, before. The warriors with her shifted, and there were eager gleams in their eyes.
"However, no man has been stupid enough to come here for many, many years now. So we will take you to our Queen, that she may witness the law carried out."
He stared at her, despair starting to curl about his heart. Fear. He was going to die? But before he could do anything, the sword was removed from his throat, and a blindfold placed over his eyes. His hands, too, were bound behind his back. The last image he saw was Diana, looking down at him gravely, with worry in her beautiful eyes.
*****
He did not know where he was. He did not know... He had half walked, half been dragged, to this place, then forced to his knees. He could hear the sound of people, hisses and gasps. Could feel their glares upon him. What was he going to do? Diana's words kept ringing through his mind.
He was going to die, be put to the death, never knowing, never being able to remember who he was. It did not seem fair, at all, that he should die for something he could not even remember.
There was a hush, and his head was pushed down, so that it touched the ground. He heard Diana's voice. "We found this man in the woods in the south-east, Mother. We brought him here for you to be witness to the law being carried out."
There was another voice now, like and yet not, Diana's. "Then carry it out, Daughter."
"We have not yet questioned him, Mother. Surely we should first ensure that he has no companions?"
Diana's mother must have agreed, because his head was raised from from the ground, though the blindfold still remained.
"Who are you and why are you here, man?" Diana's voice was strong and carrying.
He swallowed, his mouth dry, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. "I don't know," he whispered. He could feel the intensity of the gazes upon increase.
"Surely you know who you are."
He shook his head. "I don't know."
"You do not expect us to believe that you honestly do not know who you are?" That was Diana's mother, now.
He swallowed. "Believe it or not, it is the truth."
There were gasps at that, gasps of outrage, and a sword was once more placed at his throat. There were some harsh exchanges in the language he did not understand, and the sword was slowly removed. There was a heavy silence. He tried not to move, sure that there were many other weapons pointed at him.
"You will come with me." That was Diana's voice. He felt the rope that bound his hands being raised, and he stood, then followed her, feeling the eyes of many upon him.
*****
His hands were unbound and the blindfold removed. He blinked. He was in a... cloth house. What were they called? Oh yes, tents. He was seated on a chair. Diana was seated in a chair opposite him. He tried not to stare at her, but it was impossible. She was so beautiful. Her dark hair tumbling about her, a white dress flowing. Her feet were bare, he noticed, and he smiled. Her blue eyes were watching him gravely.
"You really do not know who you are?" Her voice was soft now.
He shook his head. "No."
She frowned, and was that sympathy in her eyes? "What do you know, then?"
He paused, wondering just how much to tell her, then looked into her eyes again, and knew he could only ever tell her the truth. "I woke up... I do not know how long ago it was. Weeks, maybe? I would hear music, and I tried to follow it. I only succeeded twice, when I saw you dancing."
Diana took a deep breath. There was cautious hope in her eyes. "You found your way to the Dancing Glade twice! I thought I saw you, the first time, but I thought that you were-" She cut herself off, and he was surprised to almost see her blushing.
She cleared her throat, looking away from him. "You are on the island of Themyscira. The home of us Amazons. No men are allowed to set foot upon it." She looked at him now, and he blinked. The word 'Amazon' vaguely meant something to him, but he was not sure what.
"I am sorry," was all he said, and Diana's lips quirked into a smile.
"And yet, this may prove our salvation. You have found your way to the Dancing Glade..." She paused, and a look of sorrow came over her face. It brought pain to his heart. "Twelve of my people, including myself, have been cursed. Each night, against our will, we must go to the Dancing Glade, and dance until dawn, or our shoes are worn through, whichever comes first. This has been happening for so long now... My Mother went to the Gods, to Athena, for wisdom, and she told us that the curse could only be broken if one 'not of this land' found their way to the Dancing Glade, and kept watch over us the entire night, not allowing themselves to fall asleep under the lure of Pan's pipes."
He stared at her, mouth open. "You... you think that I...?"
Diana was looking at him gravely again. "Yes. My heart tells me that you are the one to break this curse upon us. You must. It is your only chance for survival."
He took a deep breath. "It seems I do not have much choice myself."
He was surprised to see her wince, at that. But before she could respond, the flap of the tent was raised and a warrior who stood there said something. Diana nodded, and stood. Some habit made him rise as well, and Diana's lips quirked again. "Stay here. You must rest, before tonight. Food and drink will be brought to you."
She was gone before he could respond.
*****
He had been blindfolded again, then taken back to 'his' glade, as night had fallen. Diana had not been there, but then, she might have already left herself, for her own part in this. He knew he had not been left alone. He could feels eyes upon him. And more than just that. He had seen the hope in Diana's eyes. It weighed upon him. What if he failed? What if he could not find the glade, as had happened before?
No. He steeled himself, taking a deep breath. He could not fail. He had to succeed; too much was at stake.
He sat, and tried to calm himself, as the last light went out of the sky. He was already feeling drowsy - the effect of the food and wine. It had been some time since he had had such rich fare - if ever. He had to-
His head snapped up. Faint music reached his ears, setting his blood pulsing. He stood, taking another deep breath, then, feeling the weight of hope upon him, started on his quest.
*****
He was running. He had to get to the glade as soon as possible, he... Almost ran straight into a woman, dressed in armour, yet unlike the other warriors he had seen. She had an owl, perched upon her right forearm. Its golden eyes blinked at him, and he fell to his knees, overcome, every thought process going blank.
The woman did not say anything, just stared at him, and he felt his entire soul being laid bare to her. She nodded, then let the owl fly free, and disappeared herself. He scrambled to his feet, and followed the silver owl as it led him forward, through the trees of silver and gold until...
They were just starting to dance. He took a deep breath, heart pounding, met Diana's eyes from across the glade, and smiled, seeing the relief and hope in her own.
*****
The music was throbbing in his veins, almost making him want to dance himself. It was hard to remember why he was here, that he had a quest, a mission. The music swirled, and he took a deep breath, Diana meeting his eyes as she danced, and he felt his resolve return.
None of these twelve women would be free, if he did not succeed. Diana would not be free, if he did not succeed. That seemed far more important than the fact that he could die, if he did not. Diana was... was... He barely knew her, but his heart knew that it was hers. From the moment he had first seen her.
That love gave him strength, through that long, long night, as the music thundered about him, threads of insanity twining about him; soft lullabies sung in his ears.
He kept his eyes on Diana, and let his love keep him strong.
*****
He blinked his eyes open. Diana was smiling down at him and he smiled up at her. Her eyes were alight with joy and he felt joy flood through him, at the sight.
"You broke the curse." Her voice sounded wondering, as if she could not quite believe it, yet.
He smiled again. "I had to free you."
Diana's smile faltered, a little, and she looked away, then turned back to him, face smooth once again. "My Mother wishes to speak with you. I shall tell her you are awake, now." She rose and stood, and had left the tent, that he now realized was the same one he had been in the day before, before he could speak.
What was going to happen to him, now? Was he... The tent flap was raised, and a warrior stood here. "The Queen will see you, now."
He blinked, then stood, and followed her out of the tent, and through the streets of the city, trying not to gawp. This place, with its elegant buildings, it was... incredible. But not too incredible that he did not notice the warriors following him, weapons ready to be raised.
He was lead to be a plaza, where, he realized, he had stood before, when he was questioned, only a day ago. Diana was standing by the throne, and the woman upon it... She looked as though she was only a few years Diana's elder. He knelt before her without being prompted, and there was a silence, though like before, he could feel the eyes upon him.
"Mortal. You have succeeded in the quest laid upon you. Our twelve warriors, including our Daughter, have been freed. For that, you have our thanks."
He kept his head lowered. "Thank you, your Majesty," he whispered.
"We are now minded to reward you, in the manner that will best aid you."
He raised his head, a little, and Diana stepped forward, a glowing golden rope in her hands. "This may help you to regain your memory," she said softly. He felt his heart leap, either at her closeness, or the prospect of remembering, he was not sure which. She wrapped the golden rope around his wrists. "This is the Lasso of Truth, and I am its keeper. I bid you now to know the truth, and remember." She declared in a ringing voice.
He blinked, and then... images rushed over him like flood water, leaving him fallen and panting; gasping as he tried to process them all. He felt tears wet his cheeks, and knew that he was shaking. He felt the Lasso being unwound from his hands, and he blinked again, feeling the images and memories start to settle. A little shakily, still, he raised himself so he was kneeling again, wiped the tears from his face.
"You remember now." The Queen stated.
He nodded, taking another deep breath, feeling himself trembling, still. "Yes, your Majesty. Thank you."
"Who are you? Why are you here?"
He almost smiled; the questions were the same she had asked before. "My name is Steve. I am a Captain in the army of Prince Bruce and Lord Kal-El. I was exploring the seas around here when there was a storm, and I was shipwrecked. I meant, and still mean, no ill will to you or your people."
"And this prince and lord whom you serve? Do they share your sentiments?"
"Once I return and tell them that this island is where the legendary Amazons dwell, they will ensure that none of their people will bother you further, your Majesty. And so will their allies, I am sure."
There were hints of surprise upon faces, and Steve smiled again, feeling so much more confident now he knew who he was. "They are good men," he added.
There was a silence, until Diana stepped forward, looking down at him, then, to his surprise, turned and faced her mother.
"Mother, we can trust this man, and my heart tells me that we can trust his Lords." The Queen nodded, but it seemed Diana was not yet finished. "We owe this man here a great debt. I, personally, owe him a debt. In light of that, I would like to accompany him back to his home, and speak on your behalf to Prince Bruce and Lord Kal-El."
There was absolute silence. Then: pandemonium, as everyone talked at once, instantly silenced when the Queen rose her hand. "You wish to leave here, Daughter? With a man?" Her voice was incredulous.
Steve saw Diana straighten. "I ask to be appointed as your ambassador to the Outside World." She paused. "If we do not make this step, others may find us who are far less noble than this man, and his Lords."
There was a very long silence. Before him, Diana stood as still as a statue, only her dark hair moving in the breeze.
"Your words are wise, Daughter, though I wish another could go in your place, even as I know that they can not." The Queen was resigned, and sighed, a mother now. "At least come back to us, once alliances and treaties have been made."
"I will, Mother. I promise you."
Another sigh from the Queen, then she stood; the audience over. Everyone slowly drifted away, leaving him and Diana alone.
Steve slowly stood, and Diana turned to look at him. She smiled, and the look in her eyes... "Come. We have much to discuss before we leave."
Steve looked at her, a whole world of possibilities at his feet, and smiled.