1951/Memory: Themysciran Healing.

Memory: Themysciran Healing.
Date of Scene:	03 June 2020
Location:	Themyscira City
Synopsis:	Flasback: Donna brings Caitlin to Themyscira to meet Diana and Queen Hippolyta, and to help her heal from her injuries after fighting Doomsday.
Cast of Characters:	Caitlin Fairchild, Diana Prince, Donna Troy, Hippolyta

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Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
2017, after the Death of Superman.

It had been a hellish week for the community of heroes. Not just the tri-cities, but indeed around the world. Thousands of civilians, dead. Immense swathes of property rendered completely uninhabitable. Catastrophic displacement.

And the death of the world's most recognizable hero resonating among the widespread grief.

The personal losses for many were dear enough, but adding the death of the indesctructible Superman to it only made the world seem more hollow and more frightening.

Caitlin Fairchild had taken some losses particularly hard, and her injuries were among some of the worst the Titans had endured in trying to slow down Doomsday's onslaught.

With the dead buried, but mourning not yet done, Caitlin had fallen apart. Princess Diana, nursing her own wounds, had taken Caitlin in. And after the cleanup was done and funeral arragements made, it was gently suggested that some time away from the endless grief might be of benefit to the girl.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Diana's invisible plane touches down in an open pasture with a sussurance of wind, and bearing one more passenger than usual. The ramp slides down and Caitlin emerges from the vessel, blinking at the sunlight. Her normally cheery face is drawn and gone pale, hair limp and rather badly mangled by fire and conflict. Fast as she heals, she's still got a broken limb in a sling and is limping along only with the assistance of a titanium crutch. Mismatched medical scrubs-- blue top, pink pants-- look like they're picked because they're easy to dress into.

The redhead makes it down the ramp with an awkward, painful step, and pauses once her feet hit the grass so she can catch her breath. Strong shoulders are slumped with a defeat that's scarred not just her body, but her spirit.

Diana Prince has posed:
Diana is not in her Eagle Armor when they arrive. She is, in fact, wearing a set of leather body armor that leaves her shoulders and arms bare, and is accented with golden trim around the buest and down her stomach toward a leather loin cloth that falls down in front of her lap and behind her backside, it also engraved with golden designs. Behind the loin cloths are a light tanned skirt that falls down to just the middle of her thighs and on her legs are leather tall boots that go up to her knees, matching the same dark leather of the rest of her unique and rarely seen set of light armor.

It's a royal set, gifted to her the first time she returned to Themyscira after being away for nearly 100 years.

When Caitlin makes it down the jet's ramp, the jet being quite visible right now and a silvery cloud in color, Diana stands beside her and puts an arm around the other's shoulders. She smiles at her. "I am very glad to have you here, Caitlin." She says, her dark hair tied into a braided ponytail behind her shoulders.

"Come, let's enjoy our time, yes? Find a little happiness in this world." A troubled 2017, but an island of paradise before them.

Donna Troy has posed:
    Within a minute of the plane touching down, the ground rumbles with the sound of hooves, and a detachment of Amazon riders dressed in the armor of the palace guard comes into view, cresting the rise of a hill. The six horsewomen, bringing two riderless horses with them, gallop their steeds over the pasture and bring them to a halt twenty feet away from where Diana and Caitlin stand. The leader of the group dismounts, while the remaining riders raise their spears high in salute.

     Caitlin can't help but find something about the way the leader walks familiar, but it's only when she removes her silvered helmet that her suspicions are confirmed. She had known she'd be seeing her old friend Donna Troy on Themyscira, but so soon? This must have been planned.

    Donna stands first in front of Diana, helmet clutched in one hand, and salutes her with an arm across the chest. "Princess Diana, in the name of Queen Hippolyta I welcome you back to the land of your heart. Your mother would speak to you as soon as you reach the palace." Her accent is a noticeably deeper than when they last spoke, back to how it had been when they first met - but at least she's speaking in English.

    Donna bows her head to Diana, her face passive formality. When she turns to Caitlin, she struggles a little to keep that impersonal resolve. Caitlin knows her well enough to read barely suppressed excitement, but suppress it she does. Caitlin would no doubt detect Donna's urge to drop all formality and hug her old friend.

    Diana can sense a little more. She can tell that Donna's excitement is mixed with nervous uncertainty as to how she will be received by Caitlin, and in that moment Diana knows that Donna places a lot of blame on herself for the Titan's anguish. She can also tell that Donna is trying really hard to get this right. It's a ritual greeting, and Donna has been given a rare responsibility in delivering it. By Amazon standards she's very young, and Diana knows well from her own experience that it'll probably take a century for most of the Amazons to be able to really think of her as no longer a child.

    "Caitlin Fairchild, in the name of Queen Hippolyta of the Amazons, I welcome you to her realm of Themyscira." Donna's voice wavers slightly, but holds. "As you step foot on our land, so we ask you bind yourself to our laws and ways. Should you one day return to /kosmos ton patriarkioi/, to the world of men, I charge you to take no secrets, but instead take with you only the compassion and the strength you draw from our land and our company."

    Donna lets out a long breath when the final word is spoken, and anyone watching the war band accompanying her might observe a slightly more relaxed posture amongst them too. Donna looks down at the ground then back up at Caitlin, then over to Diana, as if she can't decide where to look. She's almost bouncing with indecisive energy, fighting the urge to dive in and give Caitlin a hug, uncertain how that would be received. "Diana, it's so good to see you. And...Cait, I... it's me. Uh. Hi? It's..." A smile breaks across her face. "It's good to see you." Her eyes go to the sling and crutch, and her face falls. It's just a moment though before the smiles resume. "I am glad my sister brought you here, the air will do you good and our healers are second to none. We'll have you better in no time."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin draws close to Diana at the hooves' thunder; an attempt to almost hide behind the Princess is checked by the arm around her shoulders. Her eyes widen as the horses arrive and Donna dismounts with such style. The exquisite courtesy is met with a baffled duck of the head in response to Donna's crisp certitude; the redhead, prone to being quite shy herself, seems overwhelmed by the extraordinary ease Donna exudes and the crisp military precision.

Diana had spilled the beans in convincing Caitlin to go to Themyscira, but it was quite a stopper to see it for yourself.

"Uh... kay," Caitlin says, and forces a deeper nod at the requirements from Donna. "Th-thank you. F-for um... the welcome."

The Amazons on horseback are tall and proud, staring at Caitlin with a range of examinations ranging from curiousity to polite disinterest. Her face and ears pink at their intense gaze; she looks to Diana and nods once before shrugging her shoulders out and taking a few steps towards one of her oldest friends. She stops an arm's length away, blinded by grief and inexperience to Donna's own uncertainty.

"Hey D-Donna. I... um..." An attempt to straighten her shoulders is aborted; Donna wouldn't miss the tell-tale injuries of a broken rib or dislocated collarbone. Though nowhere near as strong as Donna, Caitlin was arguably one of the hardiest members of their little band, and the idea of something doing that much harm to her is an alarming concept.

Steadying breaths fail, become guttural and a little choked. Caitlin's eyes are already welling with tears, and there's an ashamed expression on her face before she ducks her gaze away from the proud Amazons. "I'm sorry, I've got some... some bad news." The words are weak and a little wispy, and she struggles to clear her throat. In vain.

"There was a s-situation... in Metropolis. Alien space... monster guy. It was bad, really.... really bad, and..." She looks towards the empty plains, and her lower lip trembles once.

"Don and... K-Kole, got hurt. We all got hurt. But they're... it was bad, and now they're..." She swallows. "They're d-dead."

The redhead sways on her crutch, clearly full of grief and having no more idea than Donna how a reception such as this would play out, and her messy hair falls to partially obscure her face as she stares at the ground between them. Tears fall to earth and disappear in the grass.

Diana Prince has posed:
Upon Donna's arrival with the horse mounted escorts, Diana is more than willing to help shield Caitlin from the unusual experience for her. It can be a bit intimidating to have a bunch of horses - with armor and armed mounted warriors atop them - come trotting up to you! But once they settle and Donna dismounts, Diana separates from Caitlin and starts to walk toward her younger sister.

It's within moments that, even regardless of Donna's professional introductions, that Diana is moving to wrap her arms around her sister and pull her in to a hug. She of course, also, adds a deeply affectionate vocalized "Doooonna..." That almost sounds as if the Princess has to hold back some tears at seeing her sister like this.

She's going to hug Donna too, until Caitlin starts her emotional words that will pull Diana's attention back to her, whilst turning to stand beside her sister.

At Caitlin, Diana watches, then walks back toward the redhead. She's soon to grasp hold of Caitlin by the shoulders and embrace her again too. "Come, lets talk of this later, after we have settled in." She tries to encourage the other.

Donna Troy has posed:
    Donna falls into Diana's arms, head resting a moment on her sister's shoulders. She had already heard what had happened and knows that her sister could easily have been as badly injured as Caitlin, or worse. It's a thought she can't bare thinking. "Diana," she replies, smiling at her beloved sister, fighting a flood of emotions - love, relief, worry, gratitude. Even a little nervous hope that sis would be proud of her performing the formal duty of greeting. She may be a grown woman now but the Amazons mostly treat her the way they had when she'd left at the age of sixteen, and it kind of rubs off on her sometimes.

    Then the two Amazons go to join Caitlin, and Donna looks up at the giant redhead with a look of anguish. "I... heard." Donna's eyes are suddenly wet, but she blinks back the tears. She reaches out a hand to rest on Caitlin's good arm, and to offer her support if she needs it, though her feelings of guilt keep her from stepping close enough to be that support unless she's sure it was needed.

    She had heard just previous day. News had reached Themyscira sooner - Hippolyta has means of knowing what's going on in the World of Men - but despite the fact that two of her old friends were dead and others injured, Donna had not been told straight away. She had been across the island standing guard at the Gates of Doom, a sacred guard duty that cannot be interrupted. It wasn't until her tour had ended and she returned to the palace that Hippolyta had told her what had taken place in Metropolis. She had even missed the funeral. It's true that it was too late for her to do anything. It's true that no Amazon is allowed to cut her sacred duty at the Gates short for any reason, and Donna knows that Hippolyta is to honorable to make an exception even for her adopted daughter - but that doesn't make it feel better.

    Donna's anger towards Hippolyta for not telling her sooner had subsided by now, but it was a rift between them that would take a year to fully heal. That feeling though was overshadowed by the blame Donna laid on herself.

    "Cait... I'm so sorry. I... I should have been there. For Don, for Kole, for you... for all of them. I should have been there."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
There's a little fumbling few seconds as Donna grips Caitlin's arm, and then the redhead chokes back a few heaving sobs and hugs Donna. Hard enough to make even an Amazon's ribs creak. There's a deep wellspring of anguish there and Caitlin's utterly at a loss for how to get a handle on it.

At the touch from Diana to her shoulder and the Princess' calm words, Caitlin breaks from the hug and partially turns to the elder Amazon. There's a trembling breakdown still on the verge, but the calm reassurances push those heavy emotions back behind a little barrier of self-control. For now.

"Y-yeah. L-later," Caitlin agrees. She is not a pretty crier; with her colors she just looks puffy and red-faced. What looks like a dishcloth is in her pocket and she honks her nose twice into it, then plucks the edge of her sleeve to wipe at her eyes.

"I'm okay. I'm good," she promises.

When the horses are indicated, though, Caitlin's eyes widen a little. "I-I don't know how to ride," she admits, in a reedy voice. "And I don't wanna hurt your horsies by sitting on them."

The crutch and broken wing probably aren't doing her any favors, either.

Diana Prince has posed:
Diana is well aware of the emotionally charged undertones still very present in those gathered here, let alone within the rest of the world after the fight that saw so many injured, or just gone from life all together. She wants to be the stalwart that remains positive though, she always has tried to be taht for those around her.

A constant presence of care and affection, she hopes to provide for her closest friends - like Caitlin here. But she also likes to try and lighten the mood when she thinks she might be able to. "We can send for a wagon, or a large cart." She shows a soft grin to Cait then, indicating she was just kidding though.

"Themysciran horses are study, I think you would be fine. But if you would like, we can use the jet. It can take on any shape I choose for it, you know?" It's an unusual thing, the alien craft that they used to get here... many on Themyscira don't likely know what to make of it either.

The original Invisible Jet - crafted by man - is here on the island as well, though it's tucked safely away in a cavern near the city.

To Donna, Diana's eyes look. She smiles at her sister. "You look so grown up." She dotes on her. "I am so happy to see you. I assume Mother is waiting for us at the palace? Should we go straight there?'

Donna Troy has posed:
    Donna has always been convinced she was grown up when she left for America at sixteen. Now she's almost twenty-three - an adult by Themysciran law, and she was one by American law for years. Of /course/ she looks so grown up! There is just a hint of exasperation at Diana in Donna's attitude, but it's buried pretty deeply behind the deep love and respect she has for her sister. She can't help feel a little pride in Diana's words even as she slightly resents herself for feeling that pride.

    "She is waiting for us at the palace," Donna replies. "She almost came herself, but I think she wanted me to be here for Cait instead. If I don't bring you straight there she'll probably never forgive me," she says grinning slightly.

    "Diana's right, Cait. The horses will take your weight without difficulty. They are very well trained. I can put you on one , just sit there and the horse will bring you, you don't have to worry about brakes and steering. Or you could sit behind me if you prefer."

    As if on a signal, the other five Amazons of the honor guard approach, bringing the two spare horses with them. It's interesting to notice that Donna is wearing the same armor as the guards despite her rank, and Caitlin might notice that the armor is the same design she always used to wear when fighting with the Titans - her Troia armor was painted differently in black and silver, while this is decorated with gold chasing.

    One of the guards leads a horse to Diana, giving her a nod of acknowledgements and a few words in Theymisciran, <<Welcome home, Princess.>> Another brings a horse to Caitlin and dismounts beside her, offering her a hand. "Greetings, Caitlin Fairchild. My name is Adrastea. Would you like assistance mounting, noble guest?" she asks. Her English is rather good.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"No, I'll... I'll figure this out," Caitlin says, gamely, and eyes the horse. It eyes her back. She's not looking thrilled about riding a horse for the first time, and 'wonder horse' or not, the creature clearly isn't wild about the idea of a three-hundred pound inexpert rider getting on the saddle.

Actually putting Caitlin on horseback is an exercise just a few hairs shy of vaudeville, but they get her in saddleback with the help of a nearby rock and some helping hands without much ado.

The trip to the palace was a short and uneventful one; the horse is less bothered by the sudden changes in landscape than Caitlin is, but she keeps her balance sensibly enough until they're at the grounds itself. With more help, she dismounts, and follows Donna and Diana obediently along into the heart of the ancient stone structure.

Getting Caitlin ready for an audience with the Queen takes a little doing as well. Fortunately, much like medical scrubs, togas are pretty accomodating for someone in a sling. There's not much to be done about Caitlin's bruises and her tangled mess of hair except to brush it out and then twist the tail up. It's admittedly quite an improvement over how she normally wears her hair, despite the rushed effort. In short order, the three women are heading to the palace; to Caitlin's chagrin, her limp slows her down to the point that she can't keep up with a brisk Amazonian stride.

"I feel like it's final exam season," Caitlin admits nervously, just outside of the doors to the audience hall. "It's 'Your Highness', right? Do I bow or kneel?" A hand reaches for her ponytail to tug it through her fingers in worry; finding it not there, all she can do is clutch the air a little fruitlessly and whine through her nose.

Diana Prince has posed:
Diana is right there alongside Caitlin to make sure she's okay throughout the ride. For her though? She's just happy to be here, with her family and her friends. To be on Themyscira is to be personally energized. 100 years ago she used to dream of leaving this place, now she sees it as a place to restore her spirit.

Since the 'battle', Diana has emerged in the world as a public figure. The name 'Wonder Woman' has been spread around, and it's quickly caught on. She's becoming a public icon, and she's vying for political recognition for the island... which is another reason she's here. She needs to speak to her mother about all of that. But she plans to do that in private, or with her mother's council being the only others there for it.

When they arrive, Diana first separates from the others to move to Philippus, upon the General's arrival. The two share words for a moment before Diana introduces the 3,000 year old woman to Caitlin. "General of the Themysciran Armies." The Princess explains. Philippus is an intimidating woman, but one of kindness at her core, and she's quick to be polite to Caitlin, to welcome her amongst their people.

Menalippe approaches, then, and she's introduced as a Lieutenant within the armies. She had overheard Caitlin's question and she leans toward the redhead to speak softly. "'Your Majesty' and a simple bow will do you just fine." She says in her heavily accented English, much the same as Diana's own accent.

Donna Troy has posed:
    "Normally I just call her <metera>. That means 'mother'. Sometimes 'mom', but she really hates when I do that," Donna tells Caitlin with a conspiratorial grin. "Mother is not /too/ formal, if you show respect she won't be too worried about how you do it. If you want to earn extra points, call her <megeli Wanassa>. That means 'great Queen'.

    Donna had been overseeing Caitlin being helped to prepare herself for the audience, fussing around unnecessarily and avoiding any serious talk. When they are due for the audience, Donna comes down still dressed in the uniform of a palace guard, and doesn't seem to have made any special efforts to smarten up for the audience.

    Philippus gives Donna a nod and a hint of a knowing grin - she rather approves of the way Donna is dressed. It's Donna's way of showing her dedication to the queendom, and this is exactly the kind of thing Philippus approves of. Donna is being trained with the possibility that one day (hopefully far in the future) she will have Philippus' job, and she is glad to see that kind of dedication. <<Troia,>> she says. <<Come to see me later. I wish to discuss your last tour at the Gates.>>

    Donna salutes Philippus, then nods to her sister and Caitlin. "You two ready?" She asks. "We best not keep mom waiting any longer."

Hippolyta has posed:
The doors to the audience chamber open and the princesses and their comrade in arms are ushered inside. The audience chember has been prepared by the Queen's attendants with the coming guests in mind- under her direction, the scent of faskomilo, a herb often used to create a soothing and comforting atmosphere, wafts from brazers scattered across the hall. There, near the royal seat, is Queen Hippolyta herself.

Among those legendary immortals, there is something special in the daughters of the goddesses that speak of a word light years away from the world of man- a certain contradictory mixture of innocent and knowledge of the world. The Queen of the Amazons is no exception- looking as she does like the balance between Aphrodite and Athena- the beauty of antiquity that also speaks of battle and victory.

"Princess Diana," her voice carries through the hall, a warm contralto, "And her honored guest. I welcome you to the shores of Paradise and greet you under the light of they who are our patronesses." Hippolyta carries within her the best of what the ancient world could have been but never was, and she greets in her guests the promise of the world that yet may be, though laden with grief. Her demeanor is solemn but not formal and her dark eyes express an understanding of loss, she who has lost all of her sisters, "May the glory of Gaea be with you."

Her arms raise, her wrists crossed at the bracelets that all Amazons wear, in remembrance of their former bondage and the oath made to Aphrodite and Athena. For a moment, her eyes glance in Troia's direction, encompassing her in the greeting.

Diana Prince has posed:
A hundred years had gone by before Diana had returned to this island, before she'd seen her mother again. But now, their bond had been reconnected in the past decade. Diana was able to come here, return here, to be with her people when she needed to be and... in this instance... bring someone else who needed to be here as well.

Needed to be here in Diana's opinion at least. It was all apart of the Princess' 'evil plot' to make the island of Paradise more connected to the rest of the world. For the betterment of 'man's world' and for the betterment of the Themyscirans. Also in Diana's opinion, that.

She smiles brightly when she sees her mother and starts down the small set of stairs that will lead her through the audience chamber to where her mother stands. Half way there, she glances back at the others to make sure they're following along.

But when she looks back to Hippolyta, Diana smiles to her. "Mother." She says, in a much more warm-and-affectionate tone. "I would say that I am glad to see you, but I think that that is implied." She's always liked to tease her mother, at least a little bit. The woman was ever-serious, ever dutiful, and Diana is her biggest fan. But she also likes to try to get Hippolyta's lighter sides to shine through, even just a little.

Once close to the Queen, Diana stops, and then turns to motion back to those who she arrived with. "Mother. I would like to meet Caitlin Fairchild. A good, and close, friend who fought alongside the heroes of the world to protect them in the recent skirmish that saw great sorrow fall upon the hearts of many."

She looks back to the Queen then. "Caitlin was badly injured in the battle, and I felt she deserved - and has earned - a place here to rest. At your behest, of course."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Hippolyta, Diana, Donna-- paragons of grace. Not mere 'beauty', no concept so elementary and superfluous. Everything about the Amazons is an ideal, the 'best of what could have been', and no one exemplifies that ideal more than the Queen herself-- though the two dark-haired sisters returning her salute and formal greetings are far from shadows of her elegant possession. Every motion is assured and self-possessed, from the return of the salute to the bow they offer the queen.

Bowing, saluting, greetings-- Caitlin catches up about a second and a half behind the power curve. Cracked ribs make bowing more than a little uncomfortable but she grits her teeth and pushes through the pain.

Then everyone's looking at her.

"O-oh! Hell-- um... g-greetings, your Majesty," Caitlin stammers. The redhead makes a serious effort to look like she's not relying on the crutch tucked under her arm, and fails. Compared to the Amazons, she's a fumbling bundle of awkward insecurity; she and Donna look to share an age, but her bearing and demeanour is so much more adolescent and uncertain.

"Thanks for letting me visit. I don't meant to be a bother. I'll just stay out from underfoot," she says with a fumbling promise. Anxiety grips the redhead but she forces herself to make eye contact with Hippolyta despite it.

Donna Troy has posed:
    Donna walks behind Diana, next to Caitlin. When they come to a halt before the throne she waits for Diana to make the introductions, then steps forwards and returns Hippolyta's salute. <<Megeli Wanasa,>> she says. No, not <matera>, Donna is being very formal. Perhaps because she's still rather angry at her mother for not letting her know what had happened back in America sooner, honor and tradition be damned. It's not grudge - she could never hold an actual grudge against the woman who took her in and treated her as a true daughter - more a degree of distance brought about by a resentment of the world as it had turned out.

    "Caitlin is perhaps the closest friend that I made in my time in the World of Men." She turns briefly to give Caitlin an encouraging smile, knowing in advance how hard she'd find this. "She is a member of the group of heroes I joined. She has fought beside me more times than I can count, and she has saved my life more than once. She is wise beyond her years, and she has the strength and the heart of an Amazon. There can be few in the World of Men who deserve to be brought to our island so much as does Caitlin Fairchild.

    "She stood before the storm and faced it down. She fought against the enemy that attacked America when I..." she pauses, just a moment, a guilty glance towards Caitlin. "... was not there. She is wounded in heart and body. I ask that Epione be called to tend the wounds of the flesh, to help them heal as I know the warmth and love of our island will help heal the wounds of her soul."

Hippolyta has posed:
At Diana's greeting, Hippolyta's face loses some of its solemnity, as the hint of a smile appears. Diana has always been one to tease her. She is often willing to relax some in the presence of Diana, but the millennary duty is one that has become part of her since before Diana first saw the light, and it will be hers until the time comes to set the crown aside for her daughter.

"Caitlin Fairchild, rest assured that the welcome of Themyscira is never given in vain. By the testimony of my daughters, which I know always to be true, it is clear to me that, although you were born in Patriarch's World, the spirit that burns within you is the same, and so we are honored to welcome you in sisterhood as our honored guest. You will find healing in these shores, and heal in the comfort that is the rest that befits the heroines."

Hippolyta approaches the redhead and, now offering a smile, takes her hands in hers in a gesture of welcome. "I imagine you must be in need of rest. There is much that we must catch up on, but perhaps we should do so in a more restful setting. The meditation garden has been recently refreshed."

She notices Troia's usage of language, but does not react outwardly. She understands the hurt, and there is a conversation mother and daughter will have to have in the future about the sacrifices and pains of sacred duty, but that is a conversation that must happen later.

Diana Prince has posed:
Diana stands off to the side of the others, her eyes upon them and a very clear smile tugging at the corners of her red hued lips. She watches her mother greet Cait, and that alone is a happy sight that she can't easily describe if ever asked to.

She does approach though, after her mother speaks and she lingers just to the side and behind Hippolyta's right shoulder. "You will never be a bother here." She softly tells Cait, before her eyes go then to Donna. "Make sure that she sees every corner of the island while she is here. I want to know that she has got the best experience whilst here."

Diana looks to her mother then, standing closest to her. She just smiles at her though, but it's a smile that Hippolyta will recognize. It's mischievous, laced with pride and... possibly 'wanting something'. No one knows Diana better than the Queen after all.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
The effortless eloquence of the royal family leaves Caitlin a little tongue-tied; the kindness, even moreso. Donna's flourishing compliments provoke a startled glance and an expression between a smile and surprise. Closest friend? Amazon? The tips of her ears go bright pink at the effusive definitions being lavished upon her. Green eyes blink away a little dampness but are unable to hide the fragile emotions welling up from beneath.

"Th-that would mean a lot to me." Her worse are soft and a little hoarse. Caitlin clears her throat and tries again. "I mean, I'm very grateful for the hospitality. But I w-want to do something to help while I'm here." A little insistent backbone comes up in her voice. "I-- I guess you don't need a computer programmer or anything," she remarks, lamely. "Maybe I can help in the kitchens? I'm learning how to cook. I'm not terrible at it," she suggests helpfully.

A side-eye to Donna, there, imploring cooperation. Granted, there have been a few false fire alarms, and chicken sushi proved out to be less-than-palatable, but still...!

Donna Troy has posed:
    Troia gives her sister a smile and a short nod. "I will," she promises. The smiles turns into a grin as she turns it on Caitlin. "You're going to have a wonderful time here, Cait. I... I couldn't tell you about Theymiscira when I was with the Titans. But I /wanted/ to. So much. To tell you all about..." she shakes her head and puffs her cheeks out. There's so much to say. "...Everything."

    " How beautiful this place is, how much we have to offer the world. The culture. The food." A quick grin at her team-mate. Help in the kitchens indeed! There's probably no stopping Caitlin on that front, but she's going to come away with brand new recipes, not slave over a hot stove. "The artworks. The city, all of it. And the islands... the landscapes are just so... it's such a restful place here, Caitlin. But also..."Her grin grows wider. "Well. When you're fitter."

    "Mother, with your permission, and if Philippus is willing, I'd like for Caitlin to spend a little time on the Training Field when her bones are mended. She uh..." Troia smiles back reassuringly at Caitlin. "She already knows some of the Amazonian fighting arts." That's news to Caitlin, but it makes sense. Donna was always as enthusiastic at training up the others as Dick was. "But should could learn more. She is very strong, fast, capable. Lacking in discipline..." a wink towards Caitlin. "But even though she was not born an Amazon... neither was I. She is a warrior, and she has a pure heart. If our ways are to spread, Caitlin is the perfect person to start with."

    Troia gives a faint smile to Hippolyta when her pitch is done. The resentment may still be there, but there's a hint of an apologetic tone in her demeanor.

Hippolyta has posed:
The queen looks to Troia as she speaks, and then she nods. "I see no reason to deny that if, as you say, she has already been initiated in our arts. That she has proven capable of putting them to practice more than speaks to her worthiness and of the merits of your judgement, daughter." She looks to Caitlin and adds, "You shall have freedom to pursue all you wish to see here. If the kitchens are of particular interest, I am certain that Psalakantha would be more than glad to have a willing student. She has not had anyone to train in our traditional recipes since the princesses passed through her tutelage." She is quite aware of Diana's mischievous glance, and she adds "She still requests to have you for a year, daughter, to see if she can finally get you to apply yourself." It is no secret that Diana's culinary skills are legendary. For the wrong reasons.

The Queen proceeds to walk towards the entrance to the Meditation gardens at a leisurely pace so as to allow their guest to walk without putting stress on her wounds. The meditation gardens are meant to be intimate, allowing only a few people in them at a time- it is a place for reflection and for the meeting of old friends and of secret confidences, lush vegetation and flowers creating a small paradise within the larger one, a statue of Hestia presides over the small garden.

"As for the training, I think we could even arrange a small tourney at the end of your training period to celebrate your accomplishments," she says to Caitlin as she guides the group to a corner of the garden where a large semicircular bench stands, inviting. She settles in the middle of the bench, her eyes glance upon Diana, a slight knowing smile tugs at the corner of her mouth, aware that her daughter wishes to say something to her, and waiting for a propitious moment.

Diana Prince has posed:
Diana doesn't have a lot to say about Caitlin that she hasn't already said, plsu she knows Donna will continue to speak up for her dear friend as much as could be needed - if not a little bit more than!

For now thusly, Diana walks with the Queen at her side and just behind her right shoulder her toward the archway that leads to the gardens. She hears the slight dig about her own time within the kitchens where she was to learn how to properly prepare a 'feast' for the Queen's closest council. Diana's gaze averts to that of Donna and Caitlin then, to explain herself, with a very big grin upon her lips.

"Psala left me in charge of rolling the dough to prepare to be sliced for the ovens. I ... felt that rolling the dough was lacking in ... action." She settles on the word 'action' for it to be the best in the moment. "So when she returned, she found me ... throwing it against the wall to try and flatten it in a more thorough way."

Diana glances to her mother as her mother settles in for a seat within the meditation garden. Diana's left hand reaches up to gently clutch a stone outcropping to lean against it ever so slightly.

"It was working too! The dough was very flattened. If, just a little bit, well, laying upon the floor in piles too."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Diana's clarification earns a giggle, covered politely behind one hand. It drops away a second later and an expression of contrite reassurance washes over Caitlin's face. "Rolling dough is trickier than it sounds," she says with an apologetic tone. They come to a stop in the garden; unsure of the protocol, Caitlin's weight shifts from foot to crutch and she hesitates before opting to stand.

"Learning to cook's kind of a necessity," Caitlin admits. "Between me 'n Wally, we eat a lot. Bulk food tastes terrible. Anything I can do to get better at it, that'd be good for all my friends."

She looks sidelong to Donna; then her eyes drop to the floor, and Caitlin swallows. "Um... I appreciate the tourney... thing, offer," she hesitates. "B-but I don't want to take up anyone's time. I used to think I was pretty good, and now I'm..." She sniffles once, hard, and wipes the inside of her wrist against her eye. That look of hollow defeat collapses her backbone again. "I'd just like to learn to cook, I mean. I think that's something I'd be better at, anyway. Kind of hard to screw up a loaf of bread; at worst you just..." Shoulders rise and fall asymmetrically. "Make more bread. Y'know?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    Troia acknowledges Hippolyta's agreement and suggestion of a tourney with a smile. "Don't worry Cait," she says with a confident voice as she offers her team-mate her arm to help her walk through the gardens. "Nobody will expect you to compete unless you want to, and then only in a field you feel comfortable competing. Nobody would expect you to compete in archery with those who have been training at it for millennia. I always come last in archery contests."

    She doesn't know how much Diana has yet explained to Caitlin about the reality of the Amazons. That 'millennia' comment might be understood, or passed off as hyperbole, or come as a shock. The consideration hadn't occurred to Troia - here on Themyscira it's just /normal/. The idea that Donna would come last in an archery contest may be a bit intimidating though - she has shown her skill with a bow to the Titans before and is deadly with one.

    "On the other hand, Cait? It think if you were willing to do a little wrestling, you might cause a few surprises." She gives Caitlin a broad, encouraging grin. "There is plenty for you to learn, techniques that will help. But you are /strong/ Cait. Honestly I'm looking forwards to you being well enough to show people here just how strong and determined you truly are. Maybe we take certain things... a little for granted here. You can teach us, too." Perhaps there's a hint of pointed double-meaning in that.

     "Diana!", Troia says with mock horror. She gestures towards the seat, offering Caitlin a hand sitting as she teases he sister. "Don't say such things in front of Caitlin.You will shock her deeply, and she will consider us barbarians who do not know how to prepare a proper phyllo dough. Do not lead her astray with your terrible attitude towards baking!"

    Her culinary skills are no legend either way, but it's one area she'd feel confident of challenging her sister.

Hippolyta has posed:
"Psalakantha says it was a forthnight before she stopped finding hidden clumps of dough. Even then, Diana's strength was something to be reckoned with," the Queen confides, an eyebrow raised slightly. She is silent during the exchange between Donna and Caitlin, and for a moment seems to consider what she is seeing before she speaks again.

"It was the day before the Festival of the Five when Herakles came to us." Hippolyta's voice is even and measured, ever the exemplar of composure. At least, at the start. "He came to us with promises of peace and of alliances. Though my sisters, Diana's aunts, were wary, it was I who extended a welcoming hand, for who were we to refuse a son of Zeus?" her blue eyes grow somewhat distant, as if focusing on a point beyond Caitlin.

"And it was through treachery and deceit that he defeated us- the first defeat of the Amazons. We were placed in bondage, chained hand and foot while the child of Zeus gloated and mocked us. My sisters, robbed of their freedom because of my mistake."

Her eyes focus back on Caitlin. Her voice is tight, betraying a dull ache that still remains after these many thousand years. "The indignities to which his ilk would have visited upon us were spared us by the mercy of the Patronesses. Under their auspices we were freed, we fought back and we fled- our freedom was still paid by the by the spilled blood of Amazons, for Herakles was not to be routed without a fight." She pauses and breathes slowly. A stillness falls on the garden, as if the statue of Hestia were listening. "To this very day we wear these in remembrance of our bondage," the queen raises her arms, to show the gleaming bracelets, "and the cost of our freedom, and of how precious it is."

Her voice is soft, as she looks at the redhead, "You will find that you are among sisters here, all of whom still honor the memories of those whom we lost in the pursuit of our freedom. Of Diana's aunts, none remain in Gaea's realm. And yet still we have come to learn that defeat and failure are not what makes a warrior unworthy, but reticence to learn from defeat."

She turns to Troia and smiles softly, "And I am certain that my daughters will find ways to refresh your spirit. After all, you have already started upon our path."

Diana Prince has posed:
Diana grins to Caitlin at the reaction from the redhead about her cooking story, while she then looks to Donna who gets a playful wave of her hand at /her/ reaction, dismissing her sister's words in good humor. "Caitlin would never think such a thing." Diana softly states.

Back to her mother, Diana turns and grins to her initial words. "And after nearly 900 full years, I continue to hear it and feel the shame rolling off of your shoulders, dear mother." She returns in response before the tale of Herakles, the Amazon and the remembrance of what all took place. It was before Diana's time though...

As Hippolyta speaks, Diana joines her and sits beside her mother on her right side. She places her hands on either sides of her hips at the edge of the stone seat. Her eyes go over to her mother as she tells the story, then over to Donna and Caitlin. Her expression is calm now, she's heard this story a few times, but it one that hold's great weight, since even her childhood.

Diana's on bracelets are upon her forearms, gleaming in the light that filters in through the garden's foliage from above. She allows a few moments to pass after the story is told though before she speaks to Caitlin. "Imagine having a parent who could tell such bedtimes stories to you. Who needs Netflix?" She says with a soft and subtle smile.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
The scope and depth of the shared history cows Caitlin; she's withdrawing back into her shell again, slouching into shrugged shoulders a little defensively. The casual sorority of the three other women cows her; the expansion of a history that precedes the Roman Empire, a living memory of a time before the invention of modern civlization itself. With three immortal, ageless women nearby, Caitlin can do little but bow her head in respect for the mournful topic.

"I-I don't know about all that, ma'am," Caitlin says quietly. "But like I said, I'll do m-my best while I'm here. And I'll try to stay out from underfoot."

There is clearly a fair amonut of antipathy towards 'Man's World' on the island, and given how Caitlin shrinks, it's clear from her body language that she's seeing herself as an outside interloper.

Donna Troy has posed:
    It's a story you can't grow up on Themyscira without hearing. Troia has spent just seventeen years on the island in comparison to Diana's eight hundred or so, but it's folk history. It's the founding story of their culture. And it's still, three thousand years later, an open wound for Hippolyta.

    Troia suddenly feels very guilty. That's not to say that she suddenly thinks Hippolyta made the right decision after all, just that the story is a potent reminder of just how hard the decisions the queen has to make are, just how she has resting on her shoulders. That the needs of an adoptive daughter are always going to be weighed agianst the needs of an entire society. She doesn't say anything in response to the story, but she does mouth the word 'matera' to the woman who is the only mother she has known.

    Troia takes a deep breath and turns to face Cait. There's a hint of frustration in her vocie. "Caitlin. Stop this. You are not underfoot. You are here for a reason. Invited by the princess, welcomed by the queen. You are a guest. You are a Titan. You are my friend. I wasn't kidding around what I said in there Cait. I owe you my life. Stop acting like you're a... a... nobody. There are thousands in Metropolis who are only alive today because of things /you/ did. Every one of the Titans has been in a situation they would not have got out of without you standing beside them, without your strength and your bravery. Even D... Even D... Even..."

    She struggles to get the names out, but they won't come. She takes a deep breath, and suddenly her eyes are wet. Her jaw wobbles a moment, and she reaches for Caitlin's hand. "Oh Cait. You can't... Don't punish yourself for not being... for not... I /know/ you Cait. If it was possible, you'd have... It's not your fault."

Hippolyta has posed:
Healing takes time, and the wounds of the soul can take longer than those of the body. Troia's word, that term which marks the bond they have, however stressed by current circumstances, is met with a clear blue gaze and a moment of warmth. The choices a queen must make will eventually cause some to sorrow when their needs must be weighed against the greater good, but the choices a mother makes aftwards are often made hoping that amends can be made.

"Daughter," Hippolyta addresses Troia, gently bringing her focus to her and away from mentioning Catilin's self-deprecation, "I have had a thought. Would you like to show our guest the springs? Perhaps, if the waters are enticing, even rest awhile there? The springs are blessed by Hygeia's touch and they are known for being favorable to the healing process." This would provide a space for Troia and Caitlin to speak in private, without the Titan feeling any embarrassment for having such private matters discussed in front of the Queen. Eventually, perhaps, her daughter's sister-in-arms will feel comfortable enough to open up to them, but for now she needed rest and comfort, both of the body and of the spirit.

"In the meantime, there is something I must discuss with your sister." This was a half-truth. After observing Caitlin and Troia's grief, the Queen is considering holding a perideipnon in honor of their fallen comrades- this would be the first time that such a funerary banquet would be held in Themyscira in honor of outsiders... but while the Queen can command obedience, the mother cannot ignore her daughter's grief. A celebration of life and the honoring of the death, the speaking of words that mingle with grief and affection and fly to those present only in our memories is a means of coping, and in many ways of starting the healing process. Those who remain behind must make their peace with the shades that haunt them, or they will never truly live again.

Once Caitlin and Troia have taken their leave and have started off towards the streams, Hippolyta turns to Diana, anticipating he start of a likely very... interesting conversation. She might even eventually remember to ask what this 'Net-Fliks' is.