Author's Note: This is just a silly little drabble, nothing special. My favorite Greek myth is the one of Eros and Psyche. I was bored one day, and I wondered what was going through Psyche's mind while she waited for her new husband. This story is no more than an excercise in imagination. However, you are still invited to review . . .


"Mother, calm down. I'll be okay. I'm sure he won't eat me on sight," The young woman said, trying to stem her parent's tears. The gods had decreed that Psyche would be left on the mountain-top to become a bride to a monster. Only then would Aphrodite's wrath be appeased.

"We will miss you, daughter. Good luck, child," the king turned away, taking his hysterical wife by the shoulders.

Soon, the entire procession was gone, but Psyche could still hear the plaintive cries of the mourners on the wind. The maiden sat upon a large rock, thinking about her new husband.

The oracle said that he would be terrible, a monster. Her mind gave her images of large beasts with scales, poisonous saliva and teeth like swords. That was not a suitable husband for a princess.

My sisters will be happy, she thought. They've always been jealous of me, craving the attention that I didn't want in the first place. Psyche had hated it when the townspeople had honored her. She was no more special than any one of them. She did not deserve their worship. No wonder the gods were so angry.

Psyche sighed. She would make herself sick, fretting about things that she could no longer change. All she had to do was sit on this cold, uncomfortable rock, and wait for her spouse to fetch her.

How would her life be different now? She had planned to be married to a good man, with children to take care of and a house to tend, possibly with a little garden out back. Now her plans were dashed against the harsh rock of reality like a fragile seashell.

Tears began to run down her cheek. Before, in front of her parents, she had acted calm, so as to not make her parents' plight worse. Now, she was unable to sustain the reserve that had guarded her before. Her cheeks were not pale, but flushed. Her eyes were swollen and red, and her nose was running. No longer did she resemble the beauty that had traveled up the mountaintop earlier that day.

She used a sleeve of her fine dress to wipe her face, her tears slowing. Her appearance no longer mattered to her. If I'm to marry a monster, I'll look the part of the damsel in distress, She thought bitterly. If he doesn't approve, too bad. He'll probably eat me anyways.

Then a terrifying thought crept into her mind. What if he wanted to lay with her first? Would he force her? She had heard of women who had been forced before, stories that made her shudder to recall.

Maybe the creature would want children. What kind of beast would come from her womb then? Half human, half monster, like the Minotaur of Crete? Maybe she wouldn't even survive labor. That happened more often than not when birthing regular babies, she had heard.

It was possible that all the monster wanted was a wife to care for his house. What kind of house would she occupy? Most likely hole in the ground, or a cave, or maybe she wouldn't even have a house, just live in the woods somewhere. That meant no garden to tend.

"How horrible my life has become," Psyche whispered. Her tears had stopped. She saw no sense in crying over the inevitable. Her skin was whiter than her gown, pale with terror. She drew in a deep, shuddering breath, trying to stop the tremors of fear running up and down her spine.

She sat motionless on her rock, waiting patiently for her fate, as the warm west wind began to blow.