Request Ficlet: Ritual | DCU | Diana/Steve | PG-13 | 1/1
Title: Ritual
Fandom: DCU
Pairing: Diana Prince/Steve Trevor
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 491
Prompt: for bradygirl_12 - Steve/Diana - something romantic, or maybe somehow use Diana's Pagan background
Summary: On their weekend away, Steve is worried about Diana.
Disclaimer: DC and WB own it all. I own nothing. Darnit.
Author's Notes: I really don't have all that much knowledge of Diana's faith, but I'd like to think it's something like this. ^_^
Ritual
It wasn't often that Steve and Diana got any real down time, so when the opportunity arose to spend a weekend on the coast, they jumped at the opportunity. Renting a small place off of Cape Cod, they set out for two whole days of uninterrupted relaxation. And relax, they did, their most strenuous exercise being of the lovemaking variety. It was perfect, peaceful, and beautiful.
Or it should have been.
Something seemed off to Steve, like Diana's mind was elsewhere at times. On the morning of the second day, he came out onto the deck facing the ocean to find her kneeling on the wet sand just below the high tide line, naked, golden skin gleaming in the early sun as she faced it, dark hair falling loose over her back. “Angel?” he called out to her. When she didn't respond, he strode down the sloping beach. “Diana?”
But she still didn't respond. At least, not to him. As he got closer he realized she was chanting lowly, speaking in Greek. He recognized the words for 'mother', 'earth', 'air', 'fire', and 'water', all lilting beautifully, flowing together in a stream of reverence. Her arms were outstretched, and around her, archaic symbols had been scratched into the sand. A ritual. Silent, he moved back to the deck to wait for her.
A few minutes later, she rose from the sand and returned to the cabin, accepting the light robe he'd brought out for her and tying it around her waist. “I hope I didn't disturb you,” he said, handing her a cup of coffee as she sat next to him at the small patio table.
“Not at all, love,” she smiled, the morning reflecting in her eyes.
Breathing in her beauty, Steve asked after a moment, “Do you mind if I ask what that was? I mean, you seemed a little distant yesterday, and... I haven't really ever seen you do anything like that before...”
Diana's smile widened. “It was an ancient ritual of the morning, meant to welcome the sun and all the elements of the world, to thank the Great Mother for granting us all life. I...” she looked away toward the rising sun for a moment, then turned back to Steve. “I haven't conducted the Morning Ritual as it was written in many years. Not since I left the island.”
Understanding at last, Steve returned her smile sadly. “I'm sorry, Angel. I didn't realize.”
“That's all right. Not many know the more private workings of Amazonian faith.”
“I'm glad you let me in,” Steve whispered, watching as the late spring breeze tousled his love's hair. He reached over to grasp her hand over the table. “Why don't you go get dressed, and we'll go for a walk down the beach. Get our feet wet, maybe find a sand dollar or two,” he suggested.
Her bright grin returning, Diana squeezed his hand in return. “I'd love that.”
* * * * *
Fandom: DCU
Pairing: Diana Prince/Steve Trevor
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 491
Prompt: for bradygirl_12 - Steve/Diana - something romantic, or maybe somehow use Diana's Pagan background
Summary: On their weekend away, Steve is worried about Diana.
Disclaimer: DC and WB own it all. I own nothing. Darnit.
Author's Notes: I really don't have all that much knowledge of Diana's faith, but I'd like to think it's something like this. ^_^
Ritual
It wasn't often that Steve and Diana got any real down time, so when the opportunity arose to spend a weekend on the coast, they jumped at the opportunity. Renting a small place off of Cape Cod, they set out for two whole days of uninterrupted relaxation. And relax, they did, their most strenuous exercise being of the lovemaking variety. It was perfect, peaceful, and beautiful.
Or it should have been.
Something seemed off to Steve, like Diana's mind was elsewhere at times. On the morning of the second day, he came out onto the deck facing the ocean to find her kneeling on the wet sand just below the high tide line, naked, golden skin gleaming in the early sun as she faced it, dark hair falling loose over her back. “Angel?” he called out to her. When she didn't respond, he strode down the sloping beach. “Diana?”
But she still didn't respond. At least, not to him. As he got closer he realized she was chanting lowly, speaking in Greek. He recognized the words for 'mother', 'earth', 'air', 'fire', and 'water', all lilting beautifully, flowing together in a stream of reverence. Her arms were outstretched, and around her, archaic symbols had been scratched into the sand. A ritual. Silent, he moved back to the deck to wait for her.
A few minutes later, she rose from the sand and returned to the cabin, accepting the light robe he'd brought out for her and tying it around her waist. “I hope I didn't disturb you,” he said, handing her a cup of coffee as she sat next to him at the small patio table.
“Not at all, love,” she smiled, the morning reflecting in her eyes.
Breathing in her beauty, Steve asked after a moment, “Do you mind if I ask what that was? I mean, you seemed a little distant yesterday, and... I haven't really ever seen you do anything like that before...”
Diana's smile widened. “It was an ancient ritual of the morning, meant to welcome the sun and all the elements of the world, to thank the Great Mother for granting us all life. I...” she looked away toward the rising sun for a moment, then turned back to Steve. “I haven't conducted the Morning Ritual as it was written in many years. Not since I left the island.”
Understanding at last, Steve returned her smile sadly. “I'm sorry, Angel. I didn't realize.”
“That's all right. Not many know the more private workings of Amazonian faith.”
“I'm glad you let me in,” Steve whispered, watching as the late spring breeze tousled his love's hair. He reached over to grasp her hand over the table. “Why don't you go get dressed, and we'll go for a walk down the beach. Get our feet wet, maybe find a sand dollar or two,” he suggested.
Her bright grin returning, Diana squeezed his hand in return. “I'd love that.”
* * * * *