Owner	Pose
Donna Troy	The first time Troia had returned to Themyscira, she had landed in the surf and awaited the arrival of a patrol, to receive permission to step on Themysciran soil. Much to the amusement of the other Amazons, she was resurrecting a traditional ritual that hadn't been used for almost two thousand years, back in the days when Themyscira regularly had visitors. Everyone else had pretty much forgotten about it, but Troia had clearly dug it up from some dusty tome before she had even left home, and everyone agreed it was a very Troia thing to do.     Since then it is a tradition she has insisted on maintaining, though there have been a few exceptions. When she's in a hurry -- when it seems like an emergency, or if she has just arrived back from being stuck inside a black hole for example -- she has been known to fly straight to the palace to see Hippolyta directly.     Given the recent situation then, when Hippolyta received word that Troia had been seen flying ashore without stopping, it might be expected that she would arrive at the palace. She had not. Instead, she had been sighted by the forest rangers, flying into the forbidden forest, where they lost sight of her. She hadn't spoken to anyone on the way.     It is almost two days later that she turned up at the palace, without any warning. Landing directly outside the megaron and striding in, slightly alarming the guards, who had picked up that there was /something/ up with Troia, and found themselves uncertain whether to welcome her or be wary.     Troia walks half way to the throne before coming to a stop, her emotionless expression doing nothing to reassure the guards either way. "Leave us," she says. "Please."     'Please.' That's at least somewhat reassuring, but the guards don't immediately accede to the request as under other circumstances they might, turning to glance instead to Hippolyta for guidance.
Hippolyta	The Queen has been anticipating Troia's arrival for several days, ever since she was seen going into the forest. Hippolyta has been to the temple and prayed to the Goddesses by herself, and throughout the days that followed there was a heaviness to her as if of a dreadful anticipation. This was not something often seen in the Immortal Queen, so her guards could probably be excused for being so apprehensive. A slight nod from the Queen and a gesture of her hand, and the guards leave, casting backwards glances as the doors to the throne room are closed. The Queen stands up slowly, then, preparing to bear with what she knows is coming- she is merely uncertain of the exact shape it will adopt. "Troia..." she says quietly, beginning to step down from the dais.
Donna Troy	Troia raises a hand. "Please," she says. "There's no need to get up on my account... mother."     And there it is. The word is spoken with a deliberation that indicates it's there to convey a message. There's no bitterness nor irony in the way she says it. A clear intention to reassure.     Troia waits until the guards have gone to stand outside the chamber. She keeps her eyes fixed on Hippolyta while she waits, and speaks only when the door is closed behind them.     "When I was trapped inside the light-thief, Cassandra came to consult with the oracle. Kate told me that there was a... divine interruption. I assumed it must be Artemis, for it is through Artemis that Themyscira's oracle is granted. She said something about something that had been spoken before. "     "I need to know, mother. The truth. I think I know it, but I need you to tell me."
Hippolyta	There is silence for a few moments, before Hippolyta finally nods. She remains standing, however. This is not something that should be said while sitting down. "Part of the truth you know already. You were brought to me by the Oceanids, servants of Aphrodite in the manner of the Sending Forth. But your mother was- is- as you must know now, A Titan." "It was her who uttered the prophecy, said once before, that your friends used to find you." The Queen clasps her hands together and begins to pace, her eyes going to the statues of the Olympians. "The birth of a child to a Titan, a violation of an ancient agreement, carried with it the threat of ruin to both sides. An agreement was reached and the Patrons and the Titans entrusted me with the Titan-child, for the sake of a day without future enmities." She turns to face Troia. "It was both an honor and a burden to be chosen for such a task, for the trust with which you were given did not come lightly, but the perils were many." She closes her eyes for a moment, and the heaviness about her gets lighter. "I dedicated myself to the pledge wholeheartedly. My heart broke for her, to be separated from her mother, and I did my best to ensure that she would never feel the lack of one." She opens her eyes and breathes. "And yes, may your celestial mother forgive me, I have loved you and thought of you as my own daughter ever since. For it was impossible to not love you, Troia. And many times my heart wished I could reveal truth to you, but I gave my oath to the gods and it was not my place to reveal it. Your mother admonished me to never lie to you, and I have willingly told you all the truth that I was ever able to reveal." She grows quieter. "It was when I saw what became of you in that waking dream that I realized you must have been revealing it to yourself, even if you were not aware that you were doing so at the time."
Donna Troy	Troia listens carefully, and impassively, to Hippolyta's confession. It's almost eerie how impassive her expression remains. This is Troia, who never really found a need to hide her feelings as a child, who's impulsive passions are rarely far from her face.     Eventually she gives a nod. "I did say it wasn't necessary to get up on my account mother," she says. She ascends the short flight of steps the throne is mounted on, and seats herself on the top step, next to the throne -- the place she would so often sit as a child, when she insisted on being with her mother even through the most boring of court activities. She pats the seat of the throne beside her. "Come mother, sit down while we talk."     "You remember, near five years ago, when I was on duty at the gate? When the news came of... of my friends, some hurt, some killed. You did not tell me until my duty was over. Because that was /your/ duty. I was angry at you then. I am older now. A little wiser, I hope. I am not angry at you now. This was your duty. It does not change the fact that in every way that matters, you were as good a mother to me as I could have asked for. "     She breaks away suddenly, looking down at the marble floor. "I have been... for a while know I've known there was... something. That something wasn't... that there was something I didn't know. That... that all of this wasn't as simple as I have always believed it to be. I think that... I guess I was avoiding thinking too hard about the clues that I was seeing. But my inner mind must have started to suspect the things my outer mind shied away from. And I suppose there is something inside of me that... I don't know. That awoke, when it saw the signs."     "And I wonder too, whether it was Hekate's plan that I discover the truth now. Though I cannot imagine her reasoning. The Lampad that spoke to me on the stairs, that tried to provoke me in Tartarus -- she mentioned something about a prophecy. And said it was a joke. My friends in America -- mother, it was /my/ idea we call ourselves The Titans. The Lampad was right, wasn't she? All of this... all the secrets, and... all of my life. It's been about a misunderstanding. A cosmic joke. They thought it was about them, but really it was about a bunch of kids I met in America."
Hippolyta	Hippolyta makes her way back to her throne and sits down next to Troia, leaning in her daughter's direction by resting on that arm, as she used to do when the two of them would talk in between court proceedings. "That bunch of 'kids' you met in America risked crossing Tartarus to warm Themyscira of an impending attack," The Queen points out. "And were instrumental in protecting this world several times over. While the prophecies of Lachesis are not always clear, they often gain an interesting perspective in hindsight." She reaches over with a hand, to brush one of Troia's dark locks back. "There is a difference between a joke and irony, my daughter, you remember Adrastea's lessons in dramaturgy. A joke often has no purpose but its own amusement, often at the expense of someone, and it seldom builds upon something. The meaning of irony exists between the gap of what known and what is ignored. The prophecy speaks that your life is wound through the fate of the Titans. From multiple angles, that has been true. You are a Titan in both sense of the word, and you help lead people under that name, and all of you have been a major force of good in the world." She leans back on her throne, her expression has a hint of amusement to it. "That does not sound much like a joke to me. But it is very meaningful."
Donna Troy	"That's what I've made of it though," Troia says. "And that's /why/ it's a cosmic joke. Because the irony is two-fold. Think of it, Titans and Olympians at loggerheads over... over a baby. Who they believe is important to their concerns because of a prophecy they misunderstood. A prophecy that talked only about her own interests, that they were left out of entirely."     "The Titans have saved this world, mother. /My/ Titans. And if the subject of where our name comes from, you know what people ask? They ask -- 'Aren't the Titans meant to be really tall?' A translation error. In English, the name 'Titan' has come to mean something very large. "     Troia looks up with a grin. "You say a joke is often at the expense of someone. Well it was. It was at the expense of the Olympians and the original Titans. They thought the prophecy concerned /them/, but it never did. It can never for a moment have occurred to them that a prophecy about Titans would be talking about someone else. And yet... there are almost eight billion people on this planet. How many alive today could name even Kronos, even /one/ of the original Titans? Far, far fewer than could name Caitlin, and Nightwing, and Cyborg, and Vorpal, and Beast Boy, and Troia, and Hawkeye. "     "It makes me wonder if that was not after all the /point/ of it all. "     The grin fades and she looks down again. "I went to the /naos pantheion/. I wanted to... I'm not sure. It was empty, mother. None of them came to speak with me, in the place the priestesses say you will always be able to find one of the patrons, if you are allowed to find the place. I found it far more easily than the last time, when I went to become an Amazon. The path was not hidden from me. No creatures attempted to attack me on the way. But it was empty. I believe that too was a way of them speaking to me, but I am not sure what it means."
Hippolyta	"The silence of the gods can be a baffling thing, just as the silence of a parent." Hippolyta muses, her hand on Troia's head again. "Perhaps it is that you approached as a supplicant. But, to whom do the gods supplicate? Perhaps, my daughter, they are telling you to look inwards at the wealth of wisdom you have acquired. You and Diana have learned much and known so much more in such a short time- are you not the two spearheads of opening Themyscira to the world?" "You are far from perfect, like all of us are," because a mother must say this, "But in your compassion and your wisdom, if not in your occasional impulsivity," she smiles, "you can be certain that you make both of your mothers proud. You have questions, but perhaps the gods need not answer them, no oracle is better suited than you yourself for the task at hand."
Donna Troy	"Maybe they're just sulking," Troia counters. "Or embarrassed. Maybe we respect their wisdom too much. There's a proverb in the world of men: 'even a fool can seem wise, if they remain silent'. It may be that they learned this long ago, and exploit the knowledge mercilessly. A more recent and cynical age provided this alternative -- 'better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak and remove all doubt.'"     "I have to admit I feel pretty foolish right now. I know it's not rational, but... I had it all figured out, mom." That final word in English sounds so strange mixed in with the Themysciran, but there it is. She doesn't often use it, but it's not the first time. "I thought I had understood... things. Myself. But it was based on so many false premises. It's not rational to feel foolish about it, because I couldn't have known. But I do."     Troia takes a deep breath, almost a sigh, and stares into the distance. "I want you to know that... that I'm not okay. I will be, but right now I'm... I feel lost. Empty. As if the land on which I was standing suddenly vanished away. I'll figure it out. I'll find myself. But..." she shakes her head, still staring into nothing.      "It was important to me that I tell you I don't blame you, or resent... anything you have done. It's strange to me to think that when I first came to you, it was not because you... chose me in some way. It was because I was sent to you, as... as a hostage. But I know that you came to love me, and that's all that's important. You kept a truth from me about where I came from, because you had to. But that doesn't change all that you gave me. And I will always be grateful for that. It was important to me that you knew that. That you didn't doubt it."     Finally she leaves her thousand cubit stare and looks back to Hippolyta. "I always knew I had another mother. I just didn't know her name. It never seemed important. Now I know her name, and it still doesn't."
Hippolyta	There is a rustle of fabric, and suddenly Queen Hippolyta has moved to sit right next to Troia, her arms reaching out to hold her daughter in a motherly embrace. "My little one... I wish I could spare you this. But you are so young..." she strokes her daughter's hair, sighing softly. "You will face such difficulties that will leave you empty. This is as much a part of life as is the rebirth that comes with healing. Never be so sure that you have figured out yourself, my dear one-- you are not yet thirty. Perhaps after you round your first millennium, you will have /some/ certainties," she says, making her voice slightly playful, but then it returns to its comforting tone. "But I know you are strong. Yet, know that I am here. And even if something were to take me from you, all the days that I have loved you will be with you. I have tried my best to give you what you may need in the world: the assurance of yourself. Even if you don't fully know who you are, even if you are surrounded by lies... there will always be a part of you that will move to the truth. Trust in it..." "And don't be afraid to call for help. It is not improper for a mother to come to her daughter when she needs to speak. Or to cry."
Donna Troy	"Do I have anything to cry about? I don't know. I don't think so." Troia shrugs her shoulders, then rests a hand on Hippolyta's embracing arm to give it a squeeze.     "I have a lot of thinking to do, but I am not sure it has any... any meaning. It's odd. It's like... I feel like I have to reassess everything, yet at the same time I doubt that I will come to any new conclusions because of it. It's a strange feeling to have. Everything has changed, and yet everything is the same.     Troia blinks a few times, and looks around. She's smiling. "I'm sorry if I caused you worry, mother. Perhaps it is a consolation to you to know that you never have to worry about saying a wrong thing to your inconvenient daughter who inconveniently knows when people tell her lies. If nothing else, as I look back on past conversations, I have developed a new respect for your diplomatic skills."     She gives another squeeze. "I must see Pallas about something she has been doing for me. And I have questions to ask of Magala. And I should not leave it too long before I go to Diana to have a conversation with her on similar lines to this this one I am having with you. But perhaps before I do any of that, you might find enough time away from your queenly duties to spend an evening sharing a meal and some wine with your inconvenient daughter?"
Hippolyta	"My daughter, you will find that I can take a great deal of time from my duties when the situation merits it. Let me have the opportunity to be the inconvenient mother and insist on a few meals with her daughter before you depart." Hippolyta smiles gently and squeezes Troia, "I am very well aware that the island will survive some time without my presence. But go see to Pallas. And Magala. I know she has been awaiting your arrival eagerly." She reflects. "As eagerly as Magala does anything." She rises to her feet, "Now, we should open the doors before the guards have a crisis of nerves," she says to Troia with a smile.