By now, most of you have likely noticed that each of my works has at least one Princess Bride reference in it. It is my all time favorite movie. I’ve probably watched it more than fifty times. I can quote it more or less verbatim. It was part of my wedding, for crying out loud.

I love Princess Buttercup and Westley. I’m not sure love is enough. They are woven into the story of my life.

So, when I saw Buttercup (yes, I know it’s Robin Wright, and that she’s tremendously talented, but she is always and forever my Buttercup) in Wonder Woman, I was thrilled. As so many memes have noted:

And lawdy it feels good. Because I love Antiope and Buttercup, I have created a head canon. It goes like this.

After the Fire Swamp debacle Buttercup vowed that never again would she be helpless. She took it upon herself to learn everything she could, with rapt attention and kindness as exemplified by Westley. She pursued her studies until she was so fierce and so beautiful that Zeus couldn’t ignore her.

Whenever you feel like dying, feel free to visit.

But Zeus was likely no match for Westley alone. Now the unbreakable bond of the love shared by Buttercup and Westley had two defenders. It was both iron and silk, and the god knew better than to mettle. So, he made a race of people with her spirit, and granted her long life. Buttercup stayed with her true love for every moment of his time on Earth as his equal. After the trials that had brought them together, she knew each moment was a gift. She summoned forth all the strength she could and kept him well when time, machines, and decay would have made lesser men falter. But he was not as favored by the gods as she, and then when he had passed on, she joined her sisters in Themiscyra, never doubting, never fearing, and never loving again.

There she stayed, to fight and bolster her people under a new name. Antiope she was now, for Buttercup had died the day she buried Westley. She had been princess once, and wanted it no more, focusing instead on sharing the skills that she had learned, and protecting other women from ever feeling as helpless as she’d felt the day of her abduction so many years ago. She took no lover, and therefore the only child for her was that of her “sister,” Hippolyta, whom she cherished as her own. And when death claimed her at last, she returned to the side of her true love. After all, death cannot stop true love. It only delays it awhile.