5895/Forged in Fire

Forged in Fire
Date of Scene:	09 April 2021
Location:	Temple of Wisdom
Synopsis:	Themyscira: Caitlin and Donna discuss their voyage to the heart of the Amazon's sacred island, and Caitlin is presented her first set of personal armor.
Cast of Characters:	Caitlin Fairchild, Donna Troy

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Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
The Titan's trip to Themyscira was a notable one for Caitlin; she had undertaken the trials of initiation and been welcomed by the Goddesses, and inducted into the most rare and sacred of sororities in the world. Hippolyta had clasped the golden bracelets to Caitlin's wrists and proclaimed her a full Amazon.

The feast that followed, coinciding with Diana's birthday celebrations, was suitably epic in scope. Even Caitlin was full when it was done.

Early the next day she rose and started up the peak to the Temple of Wisdom. It had taken her a little while to get used to wearing the brief tunic and sandals common to Themyscira, but in truth Caitlin had swiftly learned to appreciate a lightweight garment under the heat of the midday sun. The jog up the hill is no effort for her at all as she makes good time towards Pallas' forge with a knapsack over one shoulder and hanging from her left hip.

Upon reaching the peak and spotting a familiar face waiting near the forge, Caitlin's pace slows and a fond smile crosses her face. "You're up early," she tells Donna, and walks towards the princess. Arms are extended to offer a hug. Caitlin steps back and pulls the single red braid of her ponytail over her shoulder. "Are you waiting for Pallas too?" she inquires, tentatively. "I can wait, it's not like, urgent or anything," she clarifies, and pats her hip pouch. "Diana told me I should come see her about um, getting some actual armor. I had some ideas. She won't mind. Right?" Caitlin hedges, fretting her cheek. "I mean, you don't think she'd mind if I had some ideas about how it'd look?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    Donna's wearing a huge, silly, infectious grin, and when Caitlin offers her a hug she not only accepts but actually /lifts Caitlin off the ground/ a little. It's not so much that Caitlin's weight is an issue for that so much as height, but it's a mark of her exuberant happiness.

    "I was waiting for /you/, you doof," she tells Caitlin with a happy laugh.

    The party had gone on some way into the night. It was going to be the Titan's last day on Themyscira, and nobody had wanted to go to bed. How long, Caitlin wouldn't know -- after her exertions, physical and mental, of the preceding days she was too tired to stay the distance. Certainly nobody was up for breakfast yet by the time Caitlin had left the palace, with the apparent exception of Donna. She may not have even been to bed yet, in which case she's got no business looking this bright and cheery.

    Donna looks Caitlin up and down, smirking slightly. "I don't know, Cait. I guess it depends on the ideas. I mean if they're too radically different to what Pallas has been working on for you for /months/ she might be kinda upset." She grins wide and grabs Caitlin's arm, tugging her towards the forge.

    "It's /fine/ Cait. If you want some changes, just say. But you know Diana and I have been planning this for months, and the armorers already have your measurements from all that training armor you've got through over the years. You have to have something ready for the ceremony later, so we've had Pallas working on something for a while, but if there's any changes you want made to it, that's completely fine. You can talk it over with Pallas while you're being fitted, come on!"

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"Wh- wh- wh-" Caitlin's jaw is moving but the sounds aren't quite coming through. It mostly sounds like a strangled sound as Donna seizes her wrist and pulls her into the forge.

'Forge' is perhaps an understatement. It's a gallery, open-air and full of industry. Armor and weapons are an integral part of Amazon life and culture, and held to a high regard on the island. Pallas herself, mistress of the forge, was said to have been given secrets of steel and fire by Hephaestus himself in tribute to her dedication to the craft.

"You guys have been planning this?!" Caitlin hisses at Donna. She tries to make it look like she's not being hauled bodily along and flashes nervous smiles at the few Amazons already at work. "I thought this was-- I don't know, I thought this was gonna take a while. She's so busy, I don't need anything fancy or anything!"

The resistance under Donna's fingers grows a little, but not enough to turn it into a full-on bodily drag through the crafts area.

Donna Troy has posed:
    Were it to turn into a full-on body drag, there's little evidence that would be sufficient to discourage Donna. "Of course we've been planning it a while," she says. "A good suit of armor does not happen overnight, you know. Pallas is always busy, but it's very rare indeed that she has a new Amazon to make a suit of armor for. "

    Early in the day though it may be, the forges here are hot and the work is in full flow. A dozen Amazon smiths move around industriously, and the hall rings to the sound of hammers. On Themyscira the smiths are usually at work early, before the day reaches its full heat, and the forge of Pallas, the jewel in the crown of Amazonian metalsmithing, is no exception.

    Donna has to raise her voice a little over he clanging of metal on metal. "Caitlin, you're going to need to get used to this. You are an Amazon now. Sister to every Amazon on the island. Chosen by Athena herself. Today you are the pride of Themyscira. Every smith on the island would kill to be the one to forge your armor, and every one of them knows that unless their name is Pallas, they are not revered enough to get the job of armoring Aikaterine Fairchild, the first Amazon of Man's World."

    The pair are approached by a woman of impressive dimensions, similar in scale to Caitlin herself, with strikingingly pale blonde hair and wearing a thick leather apron. "/Potnia/ Troia, Aikaterine- /hypiaine/ sisters! Welcome. Pallas will..." the woman gestures vaguely, missing a word. "...Soon. Sit!" Not all the Amazons have taught themselves English, but even those who haven't made the effort are picking up bits and pieces. The Amazons seem remarkably adept at learning languages. The woman smiles to the pair and gestures towards a bench.

    "/Epaino/, Chione," Donna answers as she drags Caitlin over to the bench to wait for Pallas. "So, Cait... was... was the journey hard? Did you get into any interesting battles? I took some Titans to the forest while you were there. We hunted manticores, but ran into a katablepas and had to make ourselves scarce..." It's not hard to guess it isn't really the journey she is curious about, but she's trying not to ask too much.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin exchanges smiles and greetings with the smith, and only when Donna pulls her to the bench does she manage to relax a little. Just a little. She's obviously excited and nervous, though Donna's reassurances seem to have taken the edge off her uncertainty.

"The... no, actually," Caitlin admits. "I mean it wasn't easy, but I basically stuck to the plan. Jogged the whole way, the trails were nice and clear. I saw a deer but I didn't wanna deal with all the, um, cleaning it. So I ate the berries and mushrooms I knew were good, and some of the rations, and I made some rabbit soup. I think it was rabbit. It might have been a squirrel."

She hugs one leg to her chest, fingers curled around her shinbone and her chin resting on her knee. "Really that part was ... I don't know. I was so nervous I just wanted to get to the clearing and get it over with. I was more scared about meeting the Goddesses than I was getting through the forest," she admits. "I guess I got lucky or something, everyone told me the forests were super dangerous and I didn't meet anything meaner than a bobcat."

Donna Troy has posed:
    Donna looks thoughtful for a few moments, then shakes her head and smiles at Cailtin. "No, luck doesn't play much of a role in the Enchanted Forest, Cait. And when you're there to do... what you were doing? No part at all. If you would like my guess, it was the goddesses' way of telling you that you had already made the journey."

    She hooks an arm through the crook of Caitlin's and leans gently against her. "The way I see it, this... this whole thing isn't just a ceremony, a rite of passage. Nor is it really a test. It's a lesson. Your experiences throught the entire journey will have been guided by the will of the patrons, to give you a lesson that you will think over for years to come, and will learn from for the rest of your life."

    "For me it was... different. The journey through the forest was... you were gone longer than I was. So my journey was likely shorter, but it was /hard/, Cait. I had to fight every mile of the way. I had never fought harder in my life. On my way back though -- I met nothing but birds. It was very peaceful. There was a message to me in that."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin tilts her head to the side and rests her cheekbone atop Donna's head, returning the gesture. "I guess I didn't think of that," she admits. "I just remember you telling me how hard it would be. I kept expecting to fight a manticore or a dragon or something. Then I just kind of showed up in the clearing," she says. "I didn't really know *what* to expect."

She pauses. "They-- hey, the goddesses didn't *tell* me not to say anything, but am I not supposed to talk about it?" she says with a worried note. "I don't know all the rules and stuff for this, there isn't like a manual or anything. I asked. A bunch. Then the librarians told me if I kept bugging them, they wouldn't let me back in," she tells Donna. "And I didn't want to end up getting in trouble because I still had scrolls I wanted to scan into my phone to read later."

Donna Troy has posed:
    "Nobody can make that judgement better than you can," Donna says quietly. "If Athena had wanted you to say nothing, then you would know to say nothing. The only advice I can really give you is that... this was a very personal thing, and it was /your/ thing. You should not talk of it to satisfy other people's curiosity. Only say so much as you wish people to know. This was a gift to you, and it was not intended that you should share it, but it is yours to share if you want to."

    She straightens up a little, looking sideways at Caitlin with a smile. "I fought manticores and a dragon, amongst other things. Well, sort of a dragon." She's said as much before, or implied it. "For me... " she lowers her voice a little, not exactly a whisper due to the noise, but speaking quietly and clearly for Caitlin's ears only. "For me it was a reminder, I think. Of who I am. I have been given so much, and the worst thing I could do is to not be willing to fight for them, for the gifts I have been given, even though they have been gifted to me already. It would be easy to take it for granted in my position. I will never, ever do that."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin turns her head to listen to Donna's story. The discussion isn't precisely conspiratorial, but it's privileged, and she listens carefully to the little snippets Donna tells her.

"Well, as Barry would say: they didn't tell me specifically to *not* tell you, so I think they knew you'd have to be an exception to the rule," she admits to Donna.

"I ... don't really know what it means for me, yet, though," she confesses. "It was really hard. Like they didn't know what to do with me. Or ... maybe I didn't know what to do with them?" Her nose scrunches up in consternation. "I'm not good at this stuff," she admits. "It was like church service. I know there's a lesson or something in there but it's gonna take me a long time to figure out what it was."

"Oh!" Remembering something, Caitlin digs in her knapsack and comes up with a sealed plastic tupperware. "I don't know if this was a lesson either, but I learned a yummy recipe for tartlets." She peels away the lid, revealing two left. "I wanted to give you and Diana both one. I ate the others. Sorry, I got really hungry on the way back," she confesses.

Donna Troy has posed:
    Donna takes the tart with a broad grin and a murmered thanks. "You have your whole life ahead of you to figure it out, Cait. And that's probably the point. They are so old that even my sisters are children to them. There is nothing that is new to them, and I am sure they knew exactly what they were doing. Don't expect there to be a single answer, like some puzzle that can be solved. Often with such things it is the question that is important rather than the answers, just as for me it was the journey that was important, not arriving."

    She takes a bite of the tartlet, chews thoughtfully and smiles at Cait. "Yeah, this is good. Hera." For a moment it might seem she's naming the goddess as an exclamation on the quality of the baking, which wouldn't be a first. But then her voice gets softer still. "That's who met me there," she says. "It was... a surprise. It did not occur for me for a moment that it would be anyone other than one of the five, but it was Hera. The queen of gods, the mother of the family of Olympus. Perhaps I should have guessed, the symbolism of that... She was there in the temple, waiting for me. When I entered, she stepped up to me with a smile that was... I can't describe."

    Her eyes stare into the past, lost in the distance. "She put her hand on my cheek, and I could feel... warmth. Welcoming. Sadness. Love. Belonging. She said to me... she said 'Troia. You fought bravely, but now you can rest. Go home now, little cousin.'"

    Donna blinks a few times and looks back to Caitlin, smiling faintly. "That was it. Then she was gone. I walked back out of the temple and into the woods, and walked back to the city and told mother what happened. Now I have told you."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"I won't tell anyone else," Caitlin promises Donna. She sits with the princess in quiet, supportive silence for a few moments while Donna wrestles with the strength of emotion in those memories.

"I learned a lot about the Amazons. On the trip, I mean," Caitlin says quietly. "It's like... " She struggles with the words. "I think that each of the goddesses put something of themselves into Themyscira. And... maybe..." the words are halting, struggling to maintain a grip on some deeper thread just barely in reach. "Maybe they wanted me to know what it ... the island, the Amazons meant, to each of them?"

It's more question than confident statement, but it seems to be making sense to her. "I was there five days. I mean, I remember five mornings," she clarifies. "Each of them wanted to see what-- how-- I was like them. Artemis wanted me to hunt with her. She wanted to help with all--" fingers wiggle near her temple. The pained expression on her face vouches for an uncomfortable truth she rarely mentions aloud. "She said I could be free of it."

"Then, Aphrodite, um, she told me I should cut myself a break. Talked about what my friends mean to me. Said I should be better to myself. And we had a, uh, talk about boundaries." She clears her throat and hastily presses on. "Demeter talked to me about faith and stuff." Fingers press to the silver cross worn under her toga. "About where I belonged in the universe. How to fit in. A lot of it went over my head."

Fingers draw invisible patterns on the narrow span of stone between their hips. Caitlin's eyes go out of focus, barely tracing the afterimage of the moebius strip her fingertip paints over the marble. "Hestia and I talked about the kitchen. Hearth," she amends. "And after we did she told me there's too much out there for me to still do and see. Helped me understand a bit about why I'm so compulsive about my kitchen. The kitchen," she amends quickly. "She gave me the recipe for the tarts though," she adds.

There's more to come, and the last takes Caitlin a long time to put in order. "Then Athena came to me. She wanted me to play a round of Go, and then I said I wasn't very good, so she wanted to spar with me instead. It was--" her head shakes, and she pulls the braid over her shoulder again to worry it between thumb and forefinger. "It wasn't so much that she was fast, but that she was just so-- so /perfect/. But she told me that there was no way I was gonna win in a spearfight with her on the island, so I didn't feel so embarassed."

"We talked about--" she takes a breath. "Doomsday, and how I needed to be better than I was, and I need to..." her eyes cut down at Donna's ribs, looking for a scar hidden by fabric. "I need to let some things stop holding me back."

"And she told me, if I wanted, I could-- I could stay here. Forever. Literally, forever," Caitlin says. "And I, um, I said... n-no." A little damp appears in her eyes and she brushes it away. More tears of strong emotion and wonder, than of sorrow. "I didn't wanna leave our family behind, y'know? I guess I knew that already, but she helped me understand it better. A little. I'm... still figuring it out," she admits, and her eyes focus on the distant ocean horizon again.

Donna Troy has posed:
    Donna listens quietly and respectfully to Caitlin's oration, never interrupting. She nods thoughtfully a few times during the account, and when Caitlin gets to Hestia she goes briefly wide eyed, cautiously takes the tartlet she was in the process of nibbling from her lips to stare at it, then after a faint shrug continues eating it.

    She reaches an arm around Caitlin's shoulders and sits there in companionable silence with her a while before talking. "All five. You know, that makes a lot of sense to me. You had to understand who they are. I already knew. Yes, you are right - when you see this island, you see the five. I was raised here, I know. For you... you have seen much of Themyscira, but now you can start to understand it, what it really means. Now... now you are an Amazon. My sister."

    She smiles with pride at saying the word, and after giving Caitlin's shoulders a squeeze, withdraws her arm. "You know, these last few days... after what happened, it's... almost overwhelming. Two weeks ago, I was... I was frantic with worry for Cassie, with the need to keep her safe. I was terrified that I would not see Diana again in this world. And with the Kryptonians away, I felt... I know it's stupid, but it felt like everything was on me. The whole world. Now... all of this. Diana is back with us, Cassie is safe, Kara and the others returned, the Titans have become... everything we dreamed and more. I got to show Rae and the other Titans my home, and see their reactions, see how much they love it. And... you... this. I wanted this for you for so long." She gives a sudden laugh, and then she's wiping a tear away too. "I'm just so... happy, Cait."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
The joy in Donna's heart kindles its like in Caitlin's breast, and then it's hers to turn and embrace Donna. The swelling pride and sense of security combines to form something like... serenity? Completion?

Words are not Caitlin's strongest suite and she doesn't try to offer any up. Just hugs Donna as long she she needs, and when they break there's a little damp on her cheeks as well.

"Golly, look at us sitting here and crying like a couple of teenagers or something," Caitlin says, and chokes back a laugh that turns into a hiccough. Palms wipe at her eyes to dry them, and she smiles upwards at the soot-stained ceiling overhead.

"It's been almost ten years," she muses. Hands rest near her hips to prop her weight back and she sinks her neck between her bare shoulders. "Since Invasion. Richard and Vic, and Rae, and you an' me. I had no idea any of this was gonna happen," she admits, and her gaze follows the epic landscape of Themysciran topography and the glittering sapphire of the Aegean beyond. "How far we've all come."

Donna Troy has posed:
    "How could anyone guess?" Donna says with a laugh. "It's all so -- I remember when I was still new to America, seeing some... foolish behavior at a Mexican restaurant, and being naive enough to go and interfere. And to my surprise there was already an Amazon there, but she didn't even know she was an Amazon yet. She adored superheroes but didn't realize she was one, and it took me a long time to convince her."

    "And then, during the invasion. That naive, strange foreign girl refusing to understand how people could stand around doing nothing while an enemy was allowed to reinforce. I could not accept such tactical foolishness. And because I was so headstrong I would hear of no alternative to attacking them. And ten years on..."

    Chione puts in another appearance, waving to the pair, and Donna springs suddenly to her feet. "Wait here," she says before rushing off after Chione. A minute or so later she returns with Chione and Pallas. Pallas is smirking.

    "Changes?" Pallas asks, with a look of mock outrage that struggles to be convincing around her grin. "Aikaterine, what's this, you want me to make changes?"

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin blanches and hops to her feet, almost overbalancing with the fast motion. "No, I didn't-- Don't!" she protests, and shoots A Look at Donna. Chione looks highly amused at the whole situation. "What did you tell her?" Caitlin hisses at Donna in despair.

"No for real, I didn't know y'all w-were working on it," she stammers at Pallas. Her hands rise, palms raised in apology. "I thought it was going to take some time to make, and we've only got a few days left before we all go home and I w-anted to just like, /talk/ about it a bit and I thought I should offer to help or something, because armor's a ton of work and it was like 'okay I can schedule some time to come back', but it'd have to be a few weeks because I'm really super behind at work also, and-- and--"

Donna Troy has posed:
    Donna is quite incapable of fighting back a fit of the giggles at Caitlin's reaction. Pallas makes it until Caitlin's flood of apologies and explanations starts to run out before she too bursts out laughing.

    "Please Aikaterine. If you treat your armor as badly as Troia treats hers..." quick glare. "...It will last you a decade. More likely far more. There is plenty of time to make adjustments over the years. The armor is /yours/, and you must be happy with it. It will be your constant companion in battle, your friend and your savior. You must be as comfortable in it as you are in the softest of clothes, and you must wear it with pride and honor. If I cannot achieve that, I have failed in my task. I have armored Amazons and heroes for thousands of years, Aikaterine. Everyone has their preferences, and it is my job to ensure the armor I forge works for them."

    "You have of course worn our armor before, many times, for training. This is your first suit of formal armor, and it is made with the knowledge we have taken from providing you that armor these past few years, and observing how you fight in it. Whatever requests you have to make, unless they are small, may have to wait a little time, but they will be met."

    Pallas claps her hands and three of her assistants appear, carrying pieces of armor. One, carrying the breastplate, holds it up to Caitlin to look at, smiling wide. In the red light of the forges, the armor seems to glow in a thousand shades of bronze and gold. It takes a few moments for the eye to process the details - the metal is silvered in places, gilt in others, but the metalworking is filled with intricate detailing and inlays in many different alloys, creating subtle patterns across the surface. As the Amazon metalworker turns the armor and it catches the light, the subtle patterning of gold around the ribs reveals a flame-like effect, chased in patterns of alloys that reflect the light in subtly different ways, revealing an effect a little like the flickering of flames when the light hits it just right.

    Another assistant approaches carrying a silvery helmet of solid construction, with a retractable nose-piece and an adjustable rear slot for a ponytail to hang through. Though less decorative than the breastplate, the helmet is covered in elegant curves and ridges that are both cleverly designed to deflect blows and a symphony of minimalist harmony. In her other hand she holds a pair of knuckle-guards, ridged for extra punching power, and shaped to slot snugly against Caitlin's bracers.

    A third steps forwards carrying greaves and pauldrons, silvery at the outsides with gilt centers. Delicate inaglio carvings in the pauldrons, only visible when you look closely, reveal an eagle on each shoulder - the Themysciran eagle on one, the American eagle on the other.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin sighs in relief at Pallas' reassurances. When the assistants step up she pulls a face at Donna, sticking her tongue out a little childishly and blowing a raspberry.

When the gear is brought forward, Caitlin takes it in her hands with a flash of a smile and starts looking it over. Thumbs brush over the expert carving and her fingers test the metal, finding it suitably rigid in some places and flexible in others. Pallas herself taught Caitlin how to look for the flaws in the Amazonian steel, and the smith watches as the student examines her mentor's work to take in every fine detail and subtle choice Pallas made in forging it.

"Pallas, it's... it's flawless," Caitlin tells the forgemistress, and beams a smile at her while hugging the breastplate to her chest. "I love it."

It doesn't take long to don the armor; Amazons don't need much in the way of the cumbersome leather pads that mortals require. The breastplate and pauldrons are attached after Caitlin's examination, and then the greaves and cuisses. A heavy belt holds the split leather skirting in place, leaving her bare legs otherwise free to move and flex. The gauntlets are next and last, Caitlin dons her helmet.

Caitlin's built more on the scale of Asgardians than most humans, and the armor only adds to her significant bulk. The helmet covers her brows and gives her a steady, resolute mien. Not meant for a scout, or for a duelist or a skirmisher. It's built for someone to crash headfirst into the densest point of combat.

She examines the gauntlets, fingers flexing and testing the limits and flex of the reinforced knuckleguards.

Hands curl into fists and Caitlin smashes her wrists together with a resonating clash of singing metal, the sound alone indicative of the flawlessness of her kit. The essence of the Aegis in her bracers produces a clash of sparks to go with the sound.

She grins at Donna. "How do I look?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    Pallas circles Caitlin, looking over every part of the armor critically, leaning in to check fitting here and there, muttering a few words to her assistants as she goes. "Yes, this will do," she finally concludes.

    Donna watches the process with a neverending grin, especially when Caitlin blows a raspberry at her, but she doesn't respond in kind. "Looking pretty fearsome Cait!" she replies.

    Pallas steps back to stand beside Donna, while her assistants close in on Caitlin to work on the clasps and strapping, taking a few measurements and putting marks on the leatherwork for final finishing. "Thank you, Pallas. It's... wonderful," Donna says.

    Pallas looks at her sidelong, grinning. "And what about you, Troia? You lost my last suit in the depths of a light-thief, and your mother is not happy with you. Imagine, an Amazon cavorting around American without a proper suit of armor. What will people think? You must return soon so we can make you something new. Perhaps you will allow me to decorate it properly this time, yes?" She turns to Caitlin, shaking her head. "All black except for four silver stars on each side. That to the little princess is her idea of decoration. No wonder her mother despairs at her. You must help her see reason."

    "Paaaallas!" Donna complains in somewhat teenager sort of whine. "I... look, I'm thinking about it, okay?" Donna rolls her eyes at Caitlin, then laughs. "I take it back, Cait. You look amazing! I can't wait to see the boys' faces when we get back to the tower."

    Pallas tuts disapprovingly and shakes her head. "Aikaterine, we will make the final adjustments and I will have the armor sent to the palace. It will be with you after lunch. Remember to look after it, keep it polished and oiled, and it will serve you well for many, many years. Please do not be like Troia."

    As Pallas' assistants help Caitlin out of the armor to make those final adjustments, Troia finally gives a raspberry of her own -- but to Pallas, not Caitlin.