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1.3

It was a short but uneasy trip, Diana and her Amazon sisters leading the Varangian invaders deeper inland to the ancient arena of Delos. 

The foreign brutes joked and laughed amongst themselves, but Diana could sense the tension in her own party - Trigona and Penthiselea especially. Her Amazons took slow, deliberate steps, their hands down by their sides, ready to draw steel in case the Varangians tried anything. Just waiting for a fight to break out.

A fight that never came. The odd gathering would reach their destination without incident.

The old arena was but a large round pit sunk into the earth. At the bottom, a flat disk of compounded dirt no more than twenty meters across. It was circled by worn stone steps that rose up five meters, maybe six, that gave way to the path of cobblestone that they had followed to get there.

It was indeed ancient, older even than Diana, and it showed. The arena was a skeleton of what it had once been, time and decay stripping away all but the unyielding stone and everlasting dirt. It seemed that not even the locals had much use for it - Diana and her foreign opponent would likely give the ground its first real fight in centuries.

Amazons and Varangians both poured down into the arena, filing through the ancient steps and taking seats wherever - though they pointedly kept to their own, each group taking one side for themselves. And though the Varangians were far more numerous, Diana noted with a smirk that the mortal invaders gave her sisters a wide berth. Then she strode forth with pride and purpose, taking a stand at her side of the arena. The golden-haired foreign god did the same, grinning at Diana with maddening calm and surety. Diana shot him an ugly look in turn.

Mala quietly stepped into the flat arena, carrying a plump leather sack. Sending Diana a quick look of concern, she tipped the sack and began to pour out a large ring of sand. Penthiselea soon followed her out onto the flat earthen circle, careful not to disrupt the sand boundary. The tall, well-muscled Amazon strode out to the center, standing between Diana and her opponent. She too shared with the princess a look of disquiet, but it was fleeting.

“You both have agreed to single combat.” Penthiselea announced, her hard voice carrying out over the whole arena. She held her chin high, turning to regard the Varangian leader with barely concealed contempt. “Do you swear before the gods to honor the terms of your wager?”

“I swear.” The foreign god boomed with his powerful voice. His grin grew, turning into the sort of smile Diana so desired to wipe from his face. And his eyes, so brilliantly blue, glimmered with vexing eagerness.

Diana’s lips curled into a sneer. She had never met a god who irritated her so just by being.

“On my honor as an Amazon, I swear.” Diana drew her sword and bowed her head, giving a moment of silence in respect of the gods. Then she turned her eyes back up, finding her adversary still smiling. His eyes were admiring her - or mocking her. She couldn’t tell which. 

Anger and heat welled up under her skin, making her cheeks and neck burn. Clenching her teeth, she slapped the flat of her blade against her shield, feeling the rush of blood as her heartbeat quickened.

Mala finished pouring the ring of sand then, and went back into the stands. Before them, Penthiselea continued.

“For this bout, you are permitted one weapon and one shield. The duel ends at first blood, if one fighter yields, or if one fighter is forced beyond the boundary marked by sand.”

“Sounds simple enough.” The foreign god said, resting an elbow atop the eye of his battle-axe. All of the tension Diana felt, she didn’t see one bit within him.

“I promise you, it won’t be.” Diana glowered.

For a moment, the Varangian leader said nothing. Then he broke into a deep, rumbling chuckle. His eyes glittered brightly with mirth and Diana hated it. The Amazonian princess bristled, stewing deeper in anger at the man’s misplaced confidence. He was a long, long way from home… and she wasn’t just any other woman. Diana felt a rush of excitement then, thinking of just how she’d put this invader in his place…

But then she saw that he was removing his armor.

The breastplate fell first, landing with a solid thump on the flat dirt. Then the chainmail, he tugged it over his broad torso and tossed it aside as if it was a roll of worn linens. Diana looked on, bewildered as the man stripped himself to the waist. After the mail there was but one layer remaining. He removed the dark leather that he wore underneath, unlacing it from the front and pulling it open to reveal…

By the gods…

Diana blinked, stunned at the magnificence revealed before her eyes. Even under his armor and mail, she had parsed that this golden-haired invader was solid with muscle and powerfully built. But seeing that power for herself… seeing the artistry of his body, his fair, glistening skin now bare to the world… 

The princess breathed in, drawing her eyes slowly over his abdomen and his broad chest. She drank in his shoulders, so wide and firm, and his arms, tight and corded with astonishing strength. Diana nearly stepped back, unable to keep herself from admiring the flesh now on display. She may have been the Princess of Themyscira, but her heart beat the same as any woman.

A hush had even fallen over her sisters - she could see that Penthiselea was similarly stunned by the excellence of the invader’s sculpted figure. It wasn’t the strength or the power that was so alluring, but the sheer perfection of his form. Flawless skin - save for scars of battles past - sporting a healthy glow, pulled taut over muscle. Every little movement he made, every shift of his body, Diana could see them working just under the skin. Even the hair was pleasing to the eye - dark gold curling from polished ivory.

If Diana had any doubt that he was a god, it was gone now - discarded along with most of his clothes and armor.

The beautiful invader stood across the arena, half-naked in only his boots and pants. And still he was smiling. His eyes shone with silent laughter - he had caught her ogling.

Diana ignored the flash of embarrassment - and the heat rising in her cheeks. She gripped tight the hilt of her sword. She forced a snide smile of her own.

“The arrogance of men often verges into stupidity, sisters.” She called back to them over her shoulder. She lifted her arm, pointing at her shirtless opponent with the blade of her sword. “I’ll be adding another scar to his collection soon enough.”

And ruin such perfect skin…

Diana quickly stamped out that thought, frowning. Then the man’s voice boomed again, carrying clear across the ring.

“You know what I am, princess.” He said to her calmly, despite his thundering words. “You know I don’t need armor.”

Diana remained silent at first. She narrowed her eyes. It seemed the foreign god was more observant than she thought - he knew she was aware of his divine blood. What else did he know, Diana had to wonder.

But Diana knew she would have her answers soon - she would draw them out of the man at swordpoint if she needed to.

“We’ll see if you still feel that way after I’ve drawn first blood.” Her words came sharp, heated. She slapped her shield with the flat of her blade again.

“You won’t. Not with that sword, at least.” The Varangian leader lifted his battle-axe, carrying it easily in one hand. He gestured at Diana’s sword with it. “Unless that steel was forged by the gods, your blade is no more deadly to me than one made of grass. You may use mine instead.”

With a friendly grin, he tossed the battle-axe across the circle. It landed with a heavy thud at her feet.

Diana stared at it, perplexed. Behind her, she could hear her sisters murmuring, sounding similarly confused. The Varangian raiders seated on the other side laughed and jeered. Diana herself couldn’t quite find the words.

…Until she felt a surge of anger at what the invader was implying.

“You’re mocking me.” She spoke flatly, glaring.

The beautiful invader shook his head.

“No. Absolutely not.” He spread his big arms, as if presenting himself. Diana watched the muscles of his chest stretch under his skin. A statue of pale bronze in movement. “My blood is divine. My body as well. That axe is almost certainly the only steel on this island that can cut me.”

“It’s a trick, Princess!” Diana heard one of her sisters - Venelia - call out from the stands. A chorus of agreements followed from the other Amazons. Diana waved them to silence - though she did not take her eyes off of the Varangian leader across the ring.

“It is no trick.” The foreign god assured her. Diana watched his face twist into a small frown - he was insulted by the accusation, she realized. “I am many things but I am no liar.”

Diana regarded him for a moment, studying his face, his eyes. Aside from their pleasing beauty, she found no sign of dishonesty. But even so… Diana found it difficult to put her faith in the man’s word. She glanced down to the battle-axe laying at her feet, regarding it like one would a poisonous snake - with silent caution… and a very careful hand.

Setting aside her sword and shield, Diana slowly reached down and took the Varangian’s axe in hand. It was a large, threatening piece of steel, with a long handle of magnificently polished wood. Though made for two hands, Diana found that it was wonderfully balanced despite its weight. She couldn’t help but feel impressed by the craftsmanship, the smoothness of the tempered steel, and the flawlessness of the foreign runes inlaid across the head. No mortal had a hand in its creation, Diana could see. It was perfectly made - much like its wielder. Though Diana was unwilling to admit that out loud.

The Amazonian princess swung the weapon once, twice, silently noting just how good it felt in her hands. Then she turned her eyes back towards her opponent - only then realizing he had left himself unarmed.

She regarded him again, this time seeing more than the violent barbarian she initially assumed. Curiosity began to swell up in her gut.

“What is your name, stranger?” Diana asked him, narrowing her eyes.

“Many call me the Odinson.” He answered in a booming voice, lifting his chin in pride. Then his next words came smoother, softer, his gaze set upon her own. “But you, Princess, may call me Thor.”

Thor. Odinson. The names rang through Diana’s head. They were almost familiar… but she couldn't quite remember why. They both fit the man well enough, she felt as she eyed him up again. 

But she quickly shook those thoughts away. Her focus was set on the imminent fight. The fight that she was going to win.

Diana swung the battle-axe again, enjoying the low hum as the blade sliced through the air. She offered her unarmored and unarmed opponent a bold, confident smile.

“Well, Thor… Odinson… I hope your men will stay true to their word once you’re defeated. Kneeling at my feet.”

The beautiful invader - Thor - gave a snort. He stepped into the ring of sand. Diana did the same.

“My men will honor the outcome of this duel. Will you?”

The attraction was clear in his eyes, unashamed and unhidden. For Diana it sparked outrage… and other feelings as well. For a brief moment as the two fighters closed the distance between them, Diana wondered just why she agreed to put herself, her body, up as the prize. Was it truly because she was so certain she would win? Her queen mother had taught her the folly of such arrogance. 

But rather than dwell on those thoughts, Diana felt the rush of battle setting alight her nerves and blood. Thor, the towering, muscled invader, was advancing upon her without fear, without faltering. 

Diana struck out first, taking a lunging swing with the man’s own battle-axe… and cut only through empty air. Thor was now to the side, well out of harm’s way. Time seemed to slow down as Diana carried herself through the swing, keeping her legs and feet under herself to regain balance.

Now they stood on opposite sides of the ring than when they started. Thor was grinning, as daunted as he was at the start - that is to say, not at all. 

The Amazon set upon the Varangian a steely gaze, gripping tight the weapon’s smooth handle. His dodge had been quick. Far quicker than Diana had expected from a man of his size. His movements weren’t lumbering and plodding, but rather deliberate and graceful. His step was full of purpose, meaning - more than Diana assumed he possessed. But then again… he was a god. 

Thor spread his arms again, his smile growing, silent laughter in his shining blue eyes. 

“You’ll have to try harder than that.” He taunted, his words colored with light mirth. 

Across the arena, up in the stands, his men cheered, laughing. Diana pressed her lips tight, clenching her jaw. She did not deign to look upon the invader’s raiding party.

“Bold talk from a half-naked fool with no weapon.” Diana bit back. Slowly she began to circle the ring, keeping to the outer edge. Thor did the same in the opposite direction, keeping her in sight.

“My father taught me that a true warrior is more than his steel.” He chuckled. Diana did not like how she felt the rumble of his voice wavering in her belly. The golden-haired god continued on, his voice deep and smooth and far too pleasing for Diana’s ears. “And a true man forges himself into a weapon.”

Diana let out a short, dry laugh.

“We’ll see if that’s true soon enough.” She said, her words low and sharp. Just like the axe in her hands. 

She felt her heart beat in her chest. Once. Twice. Then she advanced - quickly. Thor did the same.

The world around her was a blur, Diana was moving so fast. And once Thor was within reach - a deadly upwards swing. The blade sliced through the air, hitting… nothing. Thor had dodged her swing once again. Again time slowed, Diana glaring at him with a side eye - the towering brute swerving off to her right with a mirthful grin. Then… he struck. 

An open palm to the back of her shoulder sent Diana stumbling forward. She had already committed to the swing, but the man’s shove nearly sent her into a tumble. She did not end up on her face - she was an Amazon, trained by the best living warriors to keep her balance in any instance. But she stopped herself just short of stepping out of bounds.

Whirling around in case of a follow-up attack, Diana found Thor standing patiently at the other end of the ring. Still smiling. Still maddening.

There were cheers from the Varangians, jeers from her Amazon sisters. Diana ignored them both. Her focus was on Thor - the barbarian who was quickly becoming much more than that. She glowered at him, stewing in simmering anger. Heat welled up in her cheeks, up her back and her neck. Even her ears burned hot. But she said nothing. No insults. No curses. That was beneath her.

Thor… this Odinson… Diana knew then that he would not be an easy fight. But the fire of competition burned bright and strong in her heart. She was up for the challenge.

I am the Princess of Themyscira, Diana thought with pride.

She would not shame herself. She would not shame her sisters.

She would not lose. Not to some foreign god. Not to this man.

Diana gripped the battle-axe tight and charged.