"What did you just say?" Thea's heart skipped a beat. She'd activated her power purely out of habit—completely forgetting that a certain someone nearby could sense divine energy. Regret hit instantly.
"Who are your parents?" Diana pressed, staring intently at her face, deadly serious. Her expression practically said: Look, I told you I'm Zeus's illegitimate daughter. And you still won't tell me? That's not what friends do!
But Thea really couldn't. Time travel 101—never mention your parents' names. What if seventy years later, Diana randomly ran into Malcolm on a city street, remembered Thea, and decided to chat him up? With her personality, that was absolutely possible.
Malcolm, flustered by the encounter, might skip a "meeting" with Moira he was meant to have that evening. No meeting, no spark, no little bundle of chaos named Thea Queen. Boom—timeline obliterated.
So she could only give the safe answer. A name was harmless—it proved she existed—but family details? Untouchable.
She waved it off. "Diana, I really can't say. Sorry."
"Ah… I see," Diana mused, tapping her chin, already jumping to conclusions. "So your divine parent must be one of the fallen gods—speaking their name would draw their attention."
At least she'd convinced herself. Thea let out a small sigh of relief. "Hey, by the way—do you guys have, uh… kitchens here?"
Honestly, she was starting to doubt she could survive until Steve Trevor's arrival. She could tough it out for a few weeks, maybe, but half a year on that bland paste they called food? She'd die of despair first.
Her logic was simple: No guns? No cannons? Fine, we'll build our own kitchen.
Diana blinked. The idea alone seemed… sacrilegious. On Themyscira, battle was glory and labor was shame. Anyone caught wielding a spatula instead of a sword would be a laughingstock.
Still, Diana was among the more open-minded Amazons. Knowing how different Thea's tastes were, she nodded thoughtfully. "I'll mention it to Mother tonight."
Thea grinned. They even need royal approval to cook? Yep. Definitely a village with delusions of grandeur.
That afternoon, Diana went off to train again while Thea, less enthusiastic about drills, hopped onto her hoverboard to look for ingredients.
When Diana returned, exhausted, she froze at the doorway—nearly thinking she'd walked into the wrong hut. The floor was covered with… mushrooms, black fungus, and a dozen plants she couldn't even name.
Thea, it turned out, had spent the entire afternoon combing the forest. She'd found a bounty of herbs and spices, many needing to be dried. The island was full of wild fennel, so she'd gathered half a sack. She'd even spotted wild boars rooting nearby. Steamed buns with pork filling—now that would be divine, she'd thought.
It wasn't long before she spotted Diana walking in, spear in hand. Thea's eyes lit up. She snatched the weapon without warning. "Perfect. Wait here—I'll be right back!" And before Diana could respond, she was gone, flying into the woods.
Diana stood there, bewildered. What is she doing now?
A few minutes later, Thea's voice called from outside, cheerful and urgent. "Come here! Hurry!"
Diana followed—and stopped dead. Thea stood triumphantly, holding up the long spear… with a whole wild boar skewered on it. The beast wasn't huge, but it was freshly killed, pierced clean through in a rather… undignified place, exiting through its mouth.
"You're offering a sacrifice to the moon goddess?" Diana guessed, brows furrowing in earnest thought.
"Sacri—what? No!" Thea rolled her eyes. "We're eating it. Don't tell me you're all vegetarians here?"
Diana shook her head. "No, but we usually only eat meat during ceremonies. Like last night's feast—one pig for over a thousand people. Hardly enough to taste."
Now that the boar was just for them, she hesitated. It felt a bit… impious. But her mouth was already watering. "Do you even know how to prepare it?" she asked timidly.
Thea absolutely did not. But desperate times called for courage. She rolled up her sleeves. "We'll figure it out."
Between their combined strength and combat precision, they made quick work of it—draining blood, removing hair, gutting and cleaning the carcass. Soon, the boar was roasting whole over an open fire.
They turned it slowly, letting the skin crisp and brown. After twenty minutes, Thea used Horus's Eye to check the interior—still a bit raw. Activating her mechanical arm, she lifted the boar with one hand, roasting evenly for another five minutes until the skin gleamed a perfect golden hue.
"Done!" she declared, extinguishing the flames. Hygiene wasn't exactly a concern—both of them were practically immune to disease. Thea's body had long since metabolized a swamp monster's fruit, and Diana's divine physiology made poison laughable.
They laid a clean robe on the ground, set the roasted boar on top, and began carving with short swords. There were no sauces, no spices—but hunger and victory made everything taste like paradise. To Thea, it was better than anything she'd eaten in Star City.
Diana's joy was almost childlike. In five thousand years of life, she'd never seen an entire roast pig just for her. On this island, stripped of her full power and fed nothing but gray mush, she hadn't realized how much she missed feeling full.
Now, watching Thea devour happily, she couldn't resist any longer. She sliced off a golden piece, grabbed it with her bare hand, and took a bite—then another. Her eyes watered. So good!
By the time they'd eaten a third of it, Diana finally came back to her senses. "Shouldn't we… pray to the moon goddess first? Eating like this without a word feels… wrong."
Thea wiped the grease from her mouth, amused. This girl really could feel guilty over anything. "Relax. She's the goddess of the hunt, right? We caught a wild boar at night. That's basically an offering in her honor! She's probably thrilled!"
"Really?" Diana blinked, uncertain. It… kind of made sense, but something still felt off.
Before she could think it through, a soft laugh echoed through the forest—silver and musical, like bells ringing in the dark.
"Hehehe…"
Both women froze, instincts flaring. They grabbed their weapons in unison, eyes snapping toward the sound.
"Who's there?"