Fic: Honor Among Thebes (1/1)
Title: Honor Among Thebes (1/1)
Author: BradyGirl_12
Pairings/Characters: Lifemate Warriors, Steve/Diana
Genre: Drama
Rating: Mild ‘R’
Warnings: Violence, assisted suicide
Spoilers: None
Summary: Diana and Steve understand what a Warrior must do.
Date Of Completion: October 9, 2010
Date Of Posting: October 14, 2010
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 495
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Note: Written for my LJ Fourth Anniversary Fic Request Meme for crooked_halo. Pairing: Steve/Diana. Prompt: Honor. :)
We band of brothers
Bleed and die
For each other.
Honor served.
General Samuel U. Grant
"Sacred Bond"
2216 C.E.
“We have no honor.”
Diana felt the weight of weariness in her bones. Her costume was smudged and ripped, her skin cut and bruised. She adjusted her askew tiara, her hand resting on her Golden Lasso, looped to her belt.
The blue-skinned alien who had spoken was just as battered as she was, his shimmering dark-blue hair dull with dust and blood. Rivulets of blue blood ran down his arms, his armor cracked.
He cradled his mate’s head in his lap. The other Warrior was badly hurt. Both wore the Bracelets of the Bonded, the symbols for their Lifemate Warriors.
Diana understood. While she trusted her JLA friends and colleagues to watch her back on this alien battlefield, it was even better when your soulmate was the one doing the watching. The Thebans had it right.
“No honor,” repeated the Warrior sadly.
Diana hesitated as she reached for the sword discarded in the dirt, but she saw the shadow of death in the other Warrior’s eyes. The wound was mortal.
Diana handed the sword to the grieving Warrior, who gratefully took it. He leaned down and kissed his mate’s forehead, the dying man whispering in his ear, and then the first Warrior raised the sword.
Diana watched impassively, the swish of air gently ruffling her hair, the thump of steel in flesh a soft sound in the still air. The hard-baked ground soaked up the offering as the Warrior handed back the sword to Diana, the steel blade bright with blue. He began to keen the burial song as he rocked back-and-forth, his mate’s body in his arms.
Diana left the Warrior to his grief. She heard a footstep behind her.
She steeled herself for what might come. Her closest friends in the Justice league (Clark, Bruce, and Dinah), all hailed from a culture that not only encouraged keeping people alive by tubes and wires when their spirits were already gone, but mandated it by law. To them, death was always to be feared and fought, but what was an empty shell with no soul, a Warrior without dignity or the honor of bestowing that dignity?
She turned to ‘face the music’, as the saying went in Man’s World.
Her eyes met Steve’s.
He was as bloody and battered as she was, combat fatigues torn, golden hair mussed, weariness in his bones.
His gaze remained steady as she read what was in his eyes.
A Warrior understands these things.
Some of the weariness left Diana as Steve reached out his hand and took hers in a gentle grip. Drawing her into an embrace, he held her close, stroking her hair for a moment, then kissed her on the temple. He put his arm around her shoulders as she put hers around his waist, and they walked slowly back to camp.
The Thebans had it right.
Free Counters
Author: BradyGirl_12
Pairings/Characters: Lifemate Warriors, Steve/Diana
Genre: Drama
Rating: Mild ‘R’
Warnings: Violence, assisted suicide
Spoilers: None
Summary: Diana and Steve understand what a Warrior must do.
Date Of Completion: October 9, 2010
Date Of Posting: October 14, 2010
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 495
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Note: Written for my LJ Fourth Anniversary Fic Request Meme for crooked_halo. Pairing: Steve/Diana. Prompt: Honor. :)
We band of brothers
Bleed and die
For each other.
Honor served.
General Samuel U. Grant
"Sacred Bond"
2216 C.E.
“We have no honor.”
Diana felt the weight of weariness in her bones. Her costume was smudged and ripped, her skin cut and bruised. She adjusted her askew tiara, her hand resting on her Golden Lasso, looped to her belt.
The blue-skinned alien who had spoken was just as battered as she was, his shimmering dark-blue hair dull with dust and blood. Rivulets of blue blood ran down his arms, his armor cracked.
He cradled his mate’s head in his lap. The other Warrior was badly hurt. Both wore the Bracelets of the Bonded, the symbols for their Lifemate Warriors.
Diana understood. While she trusted her JLA friends and colleagues to watch her back on this alien battlefield, it was even better when your soulmate was the one doing the watching. The Thebans had it right.
“No honor,” repeated the Warrior sadly.
Diana hesitated as she reached for the sword discarded in the dirt, but she saw the shadow of death in the other Warrior’s eyes. The wound was mortal.
Diana handed the sword to the grieving Warrior, who gratefully took it. He leaned down and kissed his mate’s forehead, the dying man whispering in his ear, and then the first Warrior raised the sword.
Diana watched impassively, the swish of air gently ruffling her hair, the thump of steel in flesh a soft sound in the still air. The hard-baked ground soaked up the offering as the Warrior handed back the sword to Diana, the steel blade bright with blue. He began to keen the burial song as he rocked back-and-forth, his mate’s body in his arms.
Diana left the Warrior to his grief. She heard a footstep behind her.
She steeled herself for what might come. Her closest friends in the Justice league (Clark, Bruce, and Dinah), all hailed from a culture that not only encouraged keeping people alive by tubes and wires when their spirits were already gone, but mandated it by law. To them, death was always to be feared and fought, but what was an empty shell with no soul, a Warrior without dignity or the honor of bestowing that dignity?
She turned to ‘face the music’, as the saying went in Man’s World.
Her eyes met Steve’s.
He was as bloody and battered as she was, combat fatigues torn, golden hair mussed, weariness in his bones.
His gaze remained steady as she read what was in his eyes.
A Warrior understands these things.
Some of the weariness left Diana as Steve reached out his hand and took hers in a gentle grip. Drawing her into an embrace, he held her close, stroking her hair for a moment, then kissed her on the temple. He put his arm around her shoulders as she put hers around his waist, and they walked slowly back to camp.
The Thebans had it right.
Free Counters