Warning: rape
Medusa
It wasn't something you could describe and it wasn't something you could understand. Not without experiencing it for yourself.
It was warm out, Greek sun shining in the sky as Apollo guided its path. Beams of sunlight fell across the smooth marble floors of the temple, bathing her feet in gold.
She didn't think she had ever felt so cold in her life.
A tremble shivered through her body and she drew up her knees closer to her chest, sweaty forehead tilted down to rest on the flushed surface there. Filth clung to her skin in a way that even when she scratched at it, like rinsing off the film of oil, the stain still felt like it remained. It made her gag, refusing to retch in her goddesses sacred temple as she was, she could barely contain the shuddering disgust wracking violently through her scrunched frame. Her hands shook as a breeze drifted over her. It smelled like the fresh salt spray of the sea.
The Lady Athena had always been good to her and it made another wave of self hatred wash over her at the thought of her repayment. Desecration.
She could feel the sticky feel of blood pooling now, and it was odd for she felt numb. The smell was sharp and rancid in her nose, speaking of a violence mirrored in the marks darkening her skin.
Medusa wasn't sure how long she stayed there, arms curled around herself, stare blank. There was something she could understand about time, that it was not simple and perception varied based on circumstance. It felt forever since the god left, foul whispers, smug satisfaction, savage hands prying at her clothes and skin.
("This temple is Lady Athena's. She will not have you here" "It should have been mine" "It would not do to provoke her ire" "You're her High Priestess, are you not? I'd thought a bit of flooding would suffice but I think I've changed my mind").
She was so, so cold.
"Medusa?" The voice was smooth but firm and sharp, just as her goddess always was, astute and intellect and grace. Medusa flinched.
"My lady" she managed to croak out, lips trembling. She could see, from her vantage point, gilded sandals, winged for soaring over the vast grounds, and the end of a handsome spear, "my lady, I didn't- I tried-"
But Athena, of her bountiful wisdom, had already guessed at such a state. She bent at the knees, ignoring her priestesses protests, stammered, half hysterical apologies, whispered,
"Hush"
"I couldn't- I couldn't"
"Hush" her goddess repeated, firmer this time, "I know. I know"
There was water in her lungs, Medusa thought suddenly, water creeping up her throat, sticky and suffocating.
She couldn't breathe.
And hands were in her hair, stroking her cheeks, brushing the tears that slid down her face as stilted gasps shredded her throat. Athena shushed her, voice soothing as though there had been no desecration at all and no malevolent fury for it.
She tried to pull away, to reach for the cleaning materials in some aborted attempt to scrub everything away. As though erasing the evidence would do something, anything at all. Her goddess quelled her hands, tilted up her chin and there was hot shame burning her skin, tongue feeling swollen in her mouth.
"Tell me" Lady Athena murmured, "if there is anything I can do for you"
Her mind blanked, "my- my lady? I can't- I'm sorry, I desecrated your temple, I-"
"It wasn't your fault"
She swallowed, throat like sand rubbing all the wrong ways against the sensitive flesh. It wasn't your fault.
She would protest. She would protest because if she'd been stronger, if she had screamed louder, if, if, if…
There was a way a goddess of wisdom could look at you.
"I don't want to feel that again" she said hoarsely, "I want to hurt them first"
"They may call you a monster"
"So be it"
Pallas Athena was silent a moment, before leaning to place a lingering on the crown of her head, "very well"
Hisses filled the room.