Diana Prince - Princess of Themyscira (
undeserved_protector) wrote2017-06-08 10:07 pm
Chance meetings? ( for
thats_neat)
Flying from place to place became the normal for her. The acquisition of artifacts and maintaining relations with other museums was just the two main points of her job. Well, the job that kept her in touch with the world around her and not secluded to the other persona. The real her that protected humanity and kept them safe. Not that she disliked this job or living as Diana Prince. In fact, she loved it as much as the Amazon from Themyscira because he gave her that name and started her life in this world.
But she didn't wish to think of him right in that moment. Not while she stood perusing the displays of weapons from Ancient Greece that Emily Attwater insisted that Diana fly over to see and give her expert opinion on. Not that Ms. Attwater seemed to be so keen to keep her appointment at this rate. Normally the bubbly blonde that wanted so desperately to 'one-up' Diana would be there immediately the moment she walked into the entrance of the Smithsonian. Today, she was asked to wait by the reception.
A task she chose to do with notebook in hand, notes being taken as she went through each. She had only been sketching and noting details in her book for about twenty minutes, but it still caused a frown to furrow her brow. Perhaps her fellow curator had something else in mind today?
Whatever it was, she at least found it easy to continue her cataloging and notations of the items around her. It felt a little like glimpsing home in so many ways. It was one of the few things that did give her that chance to pretend she was nearer to her mother and friends back on the island by doing this work. And well, it gave her time to drift off and write notes in other languages about the page. Sometimes quotes from great philosophers of the time period and sometimes notations on who might've been the metal worker that forged the weapon. Regardless of what she inked on the page, she really wouldn't have even noticed if Ms. Attwater entered the room at that moment or not she was so engrossed in her work.
But she didn't wish to think of him right in that moment. Not while she stood perusing the displays of weapons from Ancient Greece that Emily Attwater insisted that Diana fly over to see and give her expert opinion on. Not that Ms. Attwater seemed to be so keen to keep her appointment at this rate. Normally the bubbly blonde that wanted so desperately to 'one-up' Diana would be there immediately the moment she walked into the entrance of the Smithsonian. Today, she was asked to wait by the reception.
A task she chose to do with notebook in hand, notes being taken as she went through each. She had only been sketching and noting details in her book for about twenty minutes, but it still caused a frown to furrow her brow. Perhaps her fellow curator had something else in mind today?
Whatever it was, she at least found it easy to continue her cataloging and notations of the items around her. It felt a little like glimpsing home in so many ways. It was one of the few things that did give her that chance to pretend she was nearer to her mother and friends back on the island by doing this work. And well, it gave her time to drift off and write notes in other languages about the page. Sometimes quotes from great philosophers of the time period and sometimes notations on who might've been the metal worker that forged the weapon. Regardless of what she inked on the page, she really wouldn't have even noticed if Ms. Attwater entered the room at that moment or not she was so engrossed in her work.

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Thinking of the starry-eyed employees was more appropriate than thinking of Diana trying on different outfits that were similar to the dress that made her look so young and happy. Or the type of sleek outfits that made her seem like the cool professional that he now knew wasn't all there was to Diana Prince. If they did go shopping, Steve would have an excuse to stare, to appreciate her beauty and see her smile over simple things like a pretty dress. "I'd like to go. I can try to find some stores unless you already know which ones are best..." She might since she did visit the museum occasionally. Her choices would probably be better than any recommendation he could beg for.
The laugh and the kiss left him dazed, leaning in before he remembered that he intended to wait until she obviously wanted more than the slow courtship that they had started. When she pulled away, he let out a slow breath, trying to understand why it'd felt like they had done this before. Why it was familiar when they had only shared a few kisses and an day together. "You would never use your powers for anything but good." The idea of Diana deliberately causing harm for no reason was unfathomable. Steve had no doubts that she'd punch someone or worse if necessary, but only if necessary.
As she searched through his closet, his only concern about her going through his things was the possibility of finding his notes and the hilt before he'd had a chance to explain his discovery to her. There was nothing of interest in his closet or the dresser. The hilt was probably foolishly kept near his bed in a box he'd bought more to honor it than to protect it. Standing when she returned to the room, he smiled when he saw the too long sleeves and the almost comically large pants.
"I don't know if it'll work either," he said, trying not to laugh at how the legs of the sleep pants hid her toes and the waist threatened to beat her. Fumbling with the drawstring, he glanced up at her, eyes bright with mischief. "We could wrap them around your waist a couple of times." There wasn't that much slack but Diana seemed to enjoy when he teased her. "Or use the belt from your dress."
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Diana knew she'd likely enjoy it too much. She already felt too open in his presence. It must be strange for a girl like her to be so happy and childish like this. Not that he seemed to mind, but still. Which was part of why she did try not to rummage in his room or look beyond drawers that looked like they were for clothing. And if they weren't she closed them back up. That would be rude and a trespassing on someone's hospitality and home. Her mother would never approve.
Granted, she could consider her work against Lex to be just that, but that had been under duress and threat so to speak. Steve was simply kind and warm, and she wanted to find some niche in his life that didn't take up too much space or intrude too much. Though, as she stood before him pulling at the drawstrings, she had to admit, she'd pretty much ended up barging completely into his life.
A soft laugh left her, her head dropping down a little as a little flush filled her cheeks. "I do not believe my waist is so small I could do that." Though, she lifted her head to watch him, still grinning, as she illustrated how this was not true. Though, his suggestion of the lasso actually wasn't a bad idea. It kept it close to her and would also in a sense, keep her decent. "Hm, that's a possibility. Let me get it."
She slipped back into his room to pick up the coiled rope from the bed. Carefully winding it in a crisscross pattern about her hips and waist, she nodded once in satisfaction before moving back into the living room. Dropping down beside him again, Diana curled her arms about his and placed her chin on his shoulder. "You know, As fun as the day and evening have been, I should keep my promise to help you out. Did you still want me to look at your work?" Now that she didn't have shoes or a skirt to worry about, she curled her legs up onto the sofa with her. "I'm all yours, Mr. Taylor."
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At least if they went shopping, he'd have an excuse to compliment her without it seeming like he was trying to seduce her. Steve didn't quite feel like it was intruding or being 'that kind of guy' if he did compliment her since he was letting her have access to anything in his apartment. She'd be able to get a glimpse of who he was and that he wasn't the dangerous stranger that he'd warned her about. The worst Diana would find was his notes and a few photos on books that hadn't been obtained from the best of sources. Nothing that would convince her that he was a serial killer.
Giving up on the drawstring as a lost cause, he was reluctant to step away. "No, it's not. I'd worry if it was. I don't think that's actually physically possible." Realizing that she wanted to get her belt, Steve stepped away, already missing the closeness they'd shared. When had they become so tangled up in each other's lives?
Returning to his place on the couch, he smiled at Diana when she sat down next to him. Before he realized what he was doing, Steve rested his cheek against her hair... like they were a couple. Like they'd done this dozens of times before. He didn't really want to ruin the moment with work, but she was right. They should at least attempt to look over his research. Once that was dealt with, they could spend the rest of the night enjoying each other's company. "I wouldn't mind if we waited, but you're probably curious."
At least he'd left the photographs and his notes close by so he didn't have to move too much to get them. Offering the folders to her, he tried not to be nervous about letting someone else see his work. For years, the hilt and its history had belong to Steve and a few others. Giving it to someone else always felt strange. "Now you can see what's been distracting me for years."
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That strangeness aside, the fact that she hated pulling away from his proximity was actually far more confusing still. Because when she stepped away from him, it felt as thought she lost something important and the warmth just bled out of her. It was part of why the amazon god couldn't resist sitting and hovering close to him any moment she got. And why his leaning his head against hers didn't even faze her at all.
When he gathered up the notebook, she watched him with curious dark eyes, tracing everything from his arms to his fingers as well as the book before he proffered the item to her. "I am most certainly curious." She placed the book in her lap before pulling his arm around her so she could nestle easily into his side as she opened the book in her lap.
And the smile slowly started to fade from her lips.
She knew exactly what this was and why Steve couldn't find anything like it. Her fingers reached out, trailing over the images and the familiar runes as her heart tightened in her chest. He found the sword she'd once believed to be the godkiller. It had been no such thing... rather a sword forged by the gods for her to use. "You're... it's not hard to believe you cannot date this... or that you cannot place who made it."
Her head lowered, dark hair sliding into her face as she felt the soft burn of the lasso as she nearly tried to lie. To tell him some fib that best fit without saying too much. Instead, she bit her lip and spoke the words in ancient Greek that were once written in runes on the blade. "Life is killing life all the time and so the goddess kills herself in the sacrifice of her own animal." The words came out softly before she leaned closer to him and placed her head on his shoulder. "It's the Sword of Athena... that is what the blade used to say."
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Whatever her thoughts were, they weren't pleasant. Her teasing smile dimmed so that he couldn't help wondering if he had unintentionally done something wrong. The hilt belonged to him. No one had questioned it when he'd brought it back from Europe. It might have been stolen, but Diana had to know that he wouldn't have intentionally broken the law.
There was something strange about how she touched the photos. Like she felt the same reverence he did when most people thought of it as just a piece of metal with some history to make it 'interesting'. Most people didn't even believe it was as ancient as Steve theorized since the attempts at dating it had been inconclusive.
Waiting for her to speak, he was surprised by her reaction. This wasn't how Diana should act if she was disappointed by poor scholarly practices. Wrapping his arms around her, Steve tried to figure out why the sword would hurt her so much. The hilt was beautiful. The quote terrifying in some undefined way, but it shouldn't...
"The Sword of Athena." Now it finally had a name, but how did Diana know what it was, what the blade had said, if all she had seen was photos of the hilt. "I've never read about it. No one's ever mentioned it before. There's no trace of it in any of the research." Pausing, he caught her hand, threading his fingers between hers to distract her from whatever it was in the photos that bothered. "Diana, do you think I stole it?"
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A part that loved. A part that believed in the innocence of humanity. And a great part of her childhood and stories her mother told her. They lay burning and shattered there just like the sword she walked away from.
Breathing in slowly, she didn't know how to phrase it. Explain how she knew. "It was my mother's... well... from my mother's family. It... broke." Her words were soft as she curled her fingers through his and turned her head so her cheek came to rest on his chest. "I know you didn't steal it. Because it was abandoned." Almost like a child. It was no wonder that it called to him. It was the stuff of gods and forged by them.
Letting her eyes fall closed, she let out a soft sigh. "It's very old, but you won't be able to date it." Furrowing her brow a little, she carefully picked her words so they were truth but not tell too much. "And you will not find another make like it. Not so far as I know." Unless he looked at her armor or the shield that stayed in a bag so carefully put away as an artifact that in truth belonged only to her. If he saw that? Well, he would see the similar craftsmanship.
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Slowly mulling over her words, he felt something settle in his bones, maybe his soul. It felt like the moment he'd found the hilt, knowing he had to keep it safe, protect it until... until what he'd never really been sure but Steve knew that he was meant to be its caretaker. Until he met Diana? "Did it draw us together?" The question seemed impossible, but so did 'the Sword of Athena'.
Resting his cheek against her hair, Steve tried to put that name into some kind of context that didn't sound like myth but everything he thought of made him think of the books he'd read as a kid, not the logic he was supposed to have as a scholar. "I'd like to know more about the sword, when you're ready to talk about it." It was obvious that Diana was bothered by her family's - heirloom? That sounded like an old necklace or an ugly vase that had been passed down for generations, not a sword that had a name that hinted at legends. "If I'd known who it belonged to, I would have returned it."
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She'd not told them again. Not sense her heart shattered and she faced reality only to lose the only person she felt so connected to without her mother and the other Amazons. But those far away thoughts dissipated as she turned her head at his question. A line furrowed her brow softly as she considered that and she finally shook her head. "I don't know. It was abandoned so long ago. I never would have believed anyone would have found it."
And by a man named Steve that had his face. Even if this was his reincarnation, she refused to think of them as the same person. And thinking fate would force him to her again seemed almost sad. Why force something?
Not that anything they had done that day felt forced. It came as easy as breathing. Moving her hand from the book, she found his and curled her fingers around it. Pressing close, she let her eyes fall closed so she could just focus on him. His warmth, the scent, and even the feeling of his heartbeat. "I want you to keep it. There is none other like it. It... it suits you." It was a piece of who she was. Who she is. And she wanted him to have it. "It can never be fixed... because it can never go home." Just like her.
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He waited for her to compose herself, to give what answers she was comfortable with despite years of curiosity about the sword. Knowing it brought her pain, he almost wished had hadn't found it, but then they wouldn't be together. "It could have," Steve offered, voice subdued since he couldn't quite gauge her reactions to the sword or him having it. Diana might see him as a thief even if he'd had no way to return the hilt to its rightful owner. "I don't know how I found it. I was in this little village, in the middle of nowhere. if it'd been lost for so long someone else should have found it since then." But it had called to Steve somehow.
After that the nightmares had started. The dreams related to the sword and darker, more disturbing things that he never remembered but he always woke in a blind panic afterward.
Lifting her hand, he kissed her knuckles, the gesture old-fashioned but seeming to be right. Just like the feeling of having Diana curled up with him, even if she seemed pained by what they'd both learned. "Shouldn't you ask the rest of your family before you give it to me?" They should have a say in it before he kept it. If he kept it. "A broken sword suits me?" he teased, hoping to get a smile. "I'm not sure if I should be insulted by that or not."
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Watching him kiss her knuckles, she smiled softly before ducking her head again. Finally shifting closer, she touched her lips to his jaw lovingly and half closed her eyes. "I think it did call you. And you were meant to find it." Lifting up, just enough to look at him again, her smile was soft if a little wistful as her chin came to rest on his shoulder. "When I left home... my mother told me I could never come back. So myself, just like the sword... will never see home again."
It took a great effort to push past that sadness before she could huff a shaky laugh. "I say it suits you because it's a part of me. But if there is something broken about you I should know about, I am ready to hear about it." Diana couldn't help but tease back at that, her dark eyes brightening a little as she watched him, a small smile pulling at the corners of her lips. "I'm sure I'll still approve of you."