Author's Note: I always imagined Poseidon as a more sinister character in the myths. In my opinion, Hades seems to be a gentleman compared to him! Therefore, I decided to rewrite the myth of Poseidon's rape on Medusa to portray how malevolent I think he is. Also, Thalassa is intended to be a one-shot. However as of the moment, the story is uploaded in chapters since it is still incomplete. I post a new chapter each time I finish a section of the story. In the end, I'll combine all the chapters into one. Oh, and if you have any comments or constructive criticisms, please do not hesitate to review. It really makes my day. Thanks for reading!
P.S. My horizontal ruler doesn't work. Anyone else having that problem?
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Medusa awoke to the cold of the oncoming night. The sky was a swirling shade of indigo and the horizon of the sea an iridescent color of fading red, orange, and yellow. She continued to lie on the beach, listening to the music of the ocean and the retreating birds. Her body relished the sensation of how the sand molded beneath its form. The breeze caressed her skin and slipped through her fine tunic sending the chiffon-like fabric in a rising and rolling frenzy.
The waves started to wash further up shore and were now tickling the soles of her feet. Medusa rotated to her side, sliding an arm beneath the chestnut curls of her head, and brought her knees forward. With her free hand, she lightly dipped an index finger into the sand and diagonally traced a line that followed the gaze of her eyes to a building of ivory columns. The flame in the vestibule still burned brightly and cast a magnificent glow on the steps, warmly welcoming anyone who wished to worship Athena. Among the three Gorgon sisters, it was Medusa's turn to guard the temple tonight.
Something flickered in the distance. Medusa squinted her still-groggy eyes and tilted her head up in curiosity. As the moving object drew closer, she sat up with the support of her arms, the drapes on them falling loosely to the sides. Disheveled from the movements of her earlier sleep, her flimsy gown hung around the curves of her body carelessly, exposing her chest and shoulders more than modesty called for. Noticing this, the girl concealed herself with an arm, obviously still in a dreamy state to think that this was enough coverage, and pulled back several locks of hair from her eyes for a better view of the mysterious being.
The creature finally came into view, and Medusa saw that it was a horse –a majestic, white horse. Shining brilliantly beneath the moonlight, its platinum-blond mane and tail tossed up and down as it galloped. A storm of sand trailed behind its wake.
Medusa gradually rose and approached the powerful beast. She hugged her herself against the chill for the wind was stronger now. The tail of her white dress billowed in a furious manner behind her, twisting this way and that, and a wisp of hair glided past her cherry lips as the rest whirled around her neck. Her ethereal figure was as if a personification of the wind itself.
The horse trotted to a stop and flipped its head back in a cry of excitement when the girl outstretched her hand to it.
"Shh," Medusa eased, hand in mid-air, "I won't hurt you." Slowly, the back of her fingers touched the horse's cheek and proceeded to brush upwards when the horse made no sign of displeasure. Her lips parted in awe as her hand moved to the mane, her fingers combing through the silky strands. Was this creature wild? It looked the part; however, it was too tame to play one. "Where did you come from?" Medusa asked, as if the animal understood her.
The horse nuzzled her face in response.
The girl giggled at the gesture and pulled herself away. "Come," she whispered, "I have something for you." With those words, she led the horse towards the temple.