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1.2

The men were ready for battle. Their voices rose up in chants and shouts, bellowing war cries in the name of Odin the All-Father. Thor couldn’t help but admire their ferocity. Though mortal men, their hearts burned bright with the spirit of the Aesir. Their bravery brought honor to their ancestors. Surely, Valhalla would welcome them.

As the dromon drew closer to the dock, Thor gripped tight the battle-axe Jarnbjorn. He breathed deep, tapping into the ancient blood that flowed within his veins. Even in exile, he could feel the divine power that coursed through his body.

The ship came to a slow stop. The shouts of his men thundered in Thor’s ears, mingling with the cries of the fleeing village folk. The ramp dropped onto the wooden dock. And Thor moved. The first of his band to set foot onto the would-be battlefield. With cries of war and glory, his men followed close behind.

Thor’s boots hit the dock with a booming thud, the wood groaning from the impact of such a towering warrior. More thuds came, the stomping boots of raiders young and old. Together, they began their advance on the island village… only to slow to a stop behind the exiled prince.

The Odinson stood still at the front of his raiding party, clutching Jarnbjorn with both hands. But he did not grip his weapon so tightly out of anger or the anticipation of battle. The young Aesir was stunned, so astonished by what his eyes could see that he had stopped dead in his tracks.

At the other end of the dock, standing between his party and the village beyond, was a group of women. Women garbed in armor of immaculate, gleaming gold and silver. And just like Thor and his men, they were armed, bearing both sword and shield, and they were all lovely. Beauties brandishing steel. But that wasn’t what had stunned Thor so.

Standing at the front of the small group, standing tall and proud and regal, was the most beautiful woman Thor had ever seen. Even from afar, Thor found himself absorbing the details of her beauty.

She was perfection, exuding grace and poise just by standing. Even in battle dress, she was a vision. Long legs, toned and firm with strength, rising into wide hips that not even her skirt could hide. Her silver-gold armor clung to her body, somehow molding perfectly to her flat belly, showing off the well-defined muscles of her abdomen. Up higher, the same loving embrace was given to her bosom, so ample and richly tanned - just like the rest of her. Thor drew his eyes up further.

Radiant this woman was, with long, flowing black hair that shimmered like the finest silk. Her face was regal, possessing such stunning lines that were somehow both sharp and elegant. Her lips were lush and full, her mouth so soft yet also firm with authority. Her nose was straight, sharp but also delicate. And her eyes… bright blue crystals. Sapphires that burned hot with righteous outrage. 

…Outrage that was aimed directly at Thor.

“They have some fine wenches here, at least.” One of the men - Gunnar, Thor could tell - joked, chuckling with lecherous intent.

Thor too felt a stirring deep in his gut, a churning in his loins brought on just from seeing the beauty at the far end of the dock. But there was something else… a buzzing sensation at the back of his mind. Almost like a warning - a tolling bell that sent but one message. That the stunning beauty that stood in Thor’s way was not just another woman to conquer. Somehow, Thor knew she was so much more than that.

“There are no wenches that I can see.” Spoke the exiled prince. Thor dropped his arms to his sides, letting loose a long breath from his nostrils. He held Jarnbjorn in one hand, no longer clutching it so tightly.

Behind him, he heard another man laugh - Bjorn, he could tell from his deep, gravelly voice - followed by the sound of an elbow thumping into another man’s ribs.

“Aye. They look quite a bit beyond the common whore, lad.” Thor’s loyal second snorted pointedly at Gunnar. “Perhaps too much woman for your blood.”

The rest of the men laughed and jeered while Gunnar cursed them half-heartedly in turn. But none were spurred into action. They still waited on the word of their captain, their prince. But Thor remained rooted to the spot. He could not take his eyes off the woman standing defiantly in their path, the beauty with blue eyes and black hair.

She almost reminded him of the fierce Valkyries, sharing the intensity that he had once witnessed from them when he was but a lad. The outrage that she focused on him was thick, potent with controlled fury. So much that Thor felt his heart thumping deep in his chest. Then the woman began to stride forth on graceful, sandaled feet, not taking her eyes off of Thor. She moved with such grace, such purpose, Thor could do little but be captivated.

“That woman up front…” Thor murmured, moving forth as well. He took only a couple short steps, nice and slow, but his men remained still. They knew better than to rush forward without his explicit command. “There is something about her… Something more… I cannot place it…”

“You’re claiming her for yourself, then?” Bjorn asked as he stepped up beside his prince. He was only half-joking.

Thor narrowed his eyes, watching as the woman with the shimmering hair continued towards them. The strange sensation was more potent then, growing stronger the closer she got. Every step she took sent a deep thrum through Thor’s body, each one more intense than the last. The bell was ringing louder with every toll, louder, louder, louder…

“There’s an aura coming off of her. I can feel it. She’s…”

Blue eyes… brilliant eyes… beautiful eyes… blessed eyes…

Thor stood straighter then, flinching as realization struck him with full force. His eyes grew wide as he let out a short, incredulous laugh.

“She has the blood of the old gods.” The Prince of Asgard spoke true. 

The woman who was coming to confront him, sword in hand, had blessed power flowing through perfect body. She was a divine being.

Just like me.

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Diana marched forth, swelling with purpose and righteous duty. She moved to confront these men, these Varangians… Raiders, they were. Here to plunder the sacred island of Delos, ready and willing to desecrate this holy sight. 

Large and lumbering, rough and weathered, were each of the men that Diana could see. All save for one. The largest and most imposing of them all, towering over the rest by a head. 

And he was the most beautiful man Diana had ever seen. Beautiful but in the rare way only men could be.

As he drew near, Diana found herself observing him more keenly, taking in the details of his face, his body. He had long, golden hair, still so lustrous despite being matted down with the spray of seawater. His mane tumbled down over his shoulders and back, pulled back from his face.

By the gods, his face…

Perfection made in the form of man. So lovingly crafted were the lines of his jaw, his nose, his lips. Elegant. Royal. Stunning. But so too were they firm, strong, as if somehow chiseled from unyielding stone. 

He was the leader, obviously. Diana could sense his authority just by the way he carried himself, how he stood tall and proud and firm. He was powerfully built, with a broad chest flanked by long arms corded with thick muscle. He possessed a flat belly and sturdy hips leading into thick legs, strong and firm. Even under his leather and mail, Diana could see the strength of his body. 

But the man before her was not some lumbering beast of pure muscle. There was an elegance to his form. He was made to be admired, as if he had been sculpted by an artist’s hand. 

He’s built like a god…

And just as she could see his strength of body, Diana could see the strength of his conviction. So sure he was in his leadership, in his strength. The confidence poured from him like endless, crystal clear water. There was nothing to muddy his surety, nothing that brought him doubt. Diana could sense none coming from him as he stepped forth from his men to meet her.

His eyes, blue like hers, shone with such brightness. Like a bolt of lightning flashing across a dark sky. And that’s when Diana truly saw it. The divine power that poured forth from this man.

He’s built like a god… because he is a god!

The revelation came as a shock, and for a moment Diana found her step faltering. But it lasted only for a second. Finding her resolve quickly, she continued forth until the two stood before the other. There was only a few feet of space between them.

Far behind, Diana’s ear picked up the hushed whispers of her Amazonian sisters. They too were stunned by the perfection of this foreign barbarian. But Diana kept her face still, kept her eyes blazing with fury. As lovely as the man before her was, he was still an invader. He was still here to bring ruin to the sacred island of Delos.

She stood firm before the foreign, towering god with the golden hair. She held in her hands her sword and shield, her body tense, ready to do battle if need be. But the man didn’t hold the same tension in his body. He held his battle-axe loosely in one hand, holding it by his side. He simply stared at her, his bright blue eyes shining with wonder.

A moment of silence passed. A tiny grin broke across the foreign god’s face. Diana gave a frown in turn.

“You and your Varangians are a long way from home.” Diana spoke first, nodding at the restless band of raiders standing far behind the man before her. The princess breathed in, noting that the god with the golden mane also stood taller than her - and by several inches! She steeled her nerves, lifting her chin in defiance at the towering invader. “Why have you come here?”

The beautiful invader didn’t answer immediately. He turned his eyes from Diana to the island beyond, a thoughtful look falling across his perfect face.

“Why do men travel the world? Adventure. Plunder. Glory.” Even his voice was lovely. Deep and pleasantly rumbling, somehow rough and musical and firm all at the same time. Every word wavered through Diana’s body, slithering down into her belly where it bloomed with warmth.

Diana’s frown deepened. She gripped tighter the hilt of her sword.

“There’s not much adventure here, I’m afraid. Nor is there much to plunder from the village or beyond.” A fire rose in her heart, the fierceness of her Amazonian blood burning hot. Her frown turned into a smirk, her eyes turning bold and daring. “And there is certainly no glory to be won in being beaten back into the sea.”

The man’s smile only grew. And the heated anger in Diana’s chest only burned hotter.

“You and your friends seem like a dangerous bunch.” He said calmly, his posture remaining loose, relaxed. He let the head of his axe thunk against the wooden dock, holding onto the pommel as if it were a walking stick. He smirked at her, his eyes glimmering with interest. “Not at all like the rest of those fleeing fishermen.”

Diana again felt a rush of heat and anger. She slapped the flat of her blade against her shield.

“We are Amazons of Themyscira. Warriors trained from birth to protect the weak. And this island is under our protection.”

The foreign god drew his eyes up and down Diana’s figure, making the princess’ belly coil and tighten.

“Of course. And no doubt you are as fierce in battle as you are beautiful.” He replied, his deep voice carrying clear over the sound of the rolling waves along the shore. Loud enough for both his party and Diana’s to hear.

Diana heard her sisters murmuring again. Some, like Trigona and Venelia, were insulted, even outraged at the man’s flirtations. Others, such as Mala, were scandalized. As for Diana… she could not ignore the heat rising up in her cheeks. She pretended it was anger. The annoyance she felt, however, was very real.

“Enough.” Diana snapped, scowling. Her body grew tense as she dropped low into a ready stance. The foreign god didn’t move at all. “You did not come here to exchange pleasantries. You came here to raid and pillage.”

“Just as their kind is known for!” Diana heard Venelia shout behind her.

“Quiet. I will handle this.” Diana spoke loudly, firmly, not taking her eyes off the invader with the golden hair. The princess heard the murmuring from her sisters die down. But Venelia cried out again.

“They are barbarians, princess! You cannot reason with them!”

“We follow the old ways, the old gods. We do not raid mindlessly. We fight and plunder to bring honor to ourselves and to our ancestors.” The man interrupted, his voice suddenly becoming hard, unyielding as folded steel. But still he did not move, remaining still with one hand resting on the pommel of his battle-axe.

Diana narrowed her eyes. The foreign god had not attacked, nor had any of his men. Already they had proven to be more than low-minded barbarians as her sisters had claimed. But the man before her had nonetheless confessed his goal to raid and plunder. They were not mindless. But they were here to fight.

These men are strange… not at all like mother described them…

“That may be. But you bring death and ruin all the same.” Diana finally answered, remaining tense and ready for a potential attack. “This island is a sacred place. I will not allow the scourge of war to touch its soil. Nor will any of my sisters.”

The towering, beautiful man again looked Diana over before glancing at the group of Amazon warriors standing not far behind. He pressed his lips - such lovely lips - into a thin line, a pondering expression contorting the proud lines of his face.

“I would have to defeat you, then?” He asked her with shocking ease, casually gesturing in her direction.

Or perhaps they are exactly like mother described them…

Fury flared up in Diana’s soul again. She slapped the flat of her blade against her shield, giving the foreign god a deathly glare.

“You may try.”

There was silence, tense and unbearably long. Diana waited for a bellowing war cry that never came. Instead, the towering blond let out a deep, hearty laugh. It rumbled through the air, stunning and maddening at the same time. The raiders at his back joined in the revelry, hooting and jeering alongside their master. 

Diana’s cheeks felt burning hot. And she didn’t need to look to know her sister’s were equally infuriated at the disrespect afforded to their beloved princess. Diana briefly considered taking a swipe with her sword - the foreign god made for a big enough target. But the princess instead showed restraint. Just as her mother had taught her.

Diana waited for their laughter to die down. Then she offered her terms, her voice coming cold and sharp.

“Turn around, get back on your boat, and depart from these lands. Return the treasure you no doubt have already stolen. Perhaps the gods will show mercy and grant you safe passage back home.”

“Fierce and merciful.” The foreign god grinned, lifting his battle-axe to hold it with both hands. The men took a small step forward. Diana’s stance dropped lower, her knuckles white as she gripped the hilt of her sword. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman quite like you.”

“You speak to the Princess of Themyscira, barbarian.” Diana snarled defiantly. She pointed the blade up at his throat, but she saw no fear in his dazzling blue eyes. All she could see was… interest. Her belly coiled again, more intense now. She ignored it. “And you’ve taken more of my time than you deserve.”

The towering blond gave a smile, impressed. Then, to Diana’s shock, the foreign god bowed.

“Of course. You have my apologies. Please forgive my lack of decorum. It’s been quite some time since I’ve been in the company of royalty.” His voice was calm, cool, and Diana caught not one hint of mockery. The man was serious, Diana realized.

The blond turned to look towards his men and for a moment Diana feared he would give a signal to attack. But he did nothing of the sort. Diana took the time to observe his raiding party. They were all of the rough and weathered sort, all as tall or taller than Diana’s own party. They were mortal men and likely weaker than Diana and her sisters. But they outnumbered her band by quite a bit. Amazons were peerless warriors, but they were not invincible. Even a barbarian could land a lucky blow.

When the blond turned back to face Diana, she saw that he wore an apologetic smile.

“I won’t return the treasures we have already plundered. My men earned them on the field of battle with grit and blood. I cannot deny them their due rewards. But otherwise I will abide by your terms. We will not raid this island and we will depart without trouble.” As he spoke, Diana saw his men bustle and whisper behind him. Clearly disappointed, she could see. But certainly not mutinous - for which Diana was silently grateful.

So too could Diana hear her own side whisper in shock, her Amazon sisters speaking in excited, hushed tones. Even Diana herself was pleasantly surprised. As unlikely as it was, peace had apparently won on this day.

…Only for the foreign god to speak up again.

“But in exchange… you will face me in single combat. And you will make a wager with me.”

Silence fell over both groups. Diana was not just taken aback. She was bewildered.

The princess rose back to her full height, regarding the taller man with curious eyes. Again, she could tell he was serious. Diana shook her head in disbelief, almost laughing.

“You want me to gamble the fate of this island?” She asked, incredulous.

“Your island is safe, woman.” The foreign god snorted. “My men and I will depart regardless of the outcome of our duel. I only ask for a fight and a wager.”

Diana pursed her lips. The man before her had the blood of the gods. And he was a warrior like herself. But the Amazons were peerless in battle. She would humor this bold intruder, Diana decided. If only to amuse herself.

“Single combat, then. There are ruins of an ancient arena further inland. We can conduct our duel there. And what are you wagering, stranger?”

The towering blond offered a friendly smile.

“My life. If you win, my fate will be yours to decide.”

If this one is not a god, he sure does have the confidence of one.

“And if you should find victory?” Diana asked.

His eyes shone with interest once more… and very clear desire.

“Then you will be my prize, princess.”

Diana was left speechless. But not disgusted. There was a flare of scandal. Annoyance, too, but mostly at herself. She should have felt outraged, insulted. She should have felt fury that a man would dare see her as something to be won, to be conquered. But instead, Diana felt a sliver of admiration for the man. His terms were bold, even for a god.

Behind her, her sisters were just as scandalized. Their voices rose, angry and indignant. Furiously, they urged her to accept. To show this brute the strength of Themyscira. Even Diana felt a rush of excitement. The prospect of a true challenge, to test her mettle against another god, was too thrilling to ignore.

Diana of Themyscira gave the taller man a smirk, her eyes shining with defiance and daring.

“I accept your terms, invader.” She answered. The two shook hands, making the agreement binding.

When she won, perhaps she would show him mercy. Or perhaps not.