She was so alone. Always. This stupid curse that robbed her of her beauty and charms. Every single person who came to her either ran screaming "Monster!", or fell forever silent under her gaze. At first, she tried to finds ways to avoid the violence. Ways to show people that she meant no harm, but her visitors wanted none of it. They spread stories of her. Any accidental casualties from her powers, colored as victims of the vicious machinations of a demon. Wave after wave of warriors flocked to her with dreams of being the grand hero to slay her. None were able.
One day, after years and years had passed, she heard a shuffling near the entrance to her cave. Not the usual clanking of iron and steel from the heavy blades and armor her 'guests' usually wore, but a softer sound. Her mind brought forth images of the fields from her youth. Of the breeze rustlings the long stalks of the grass. Shaking away the thoughts, she slithered silently through the shadows. Spying a figure stumbling over the rocks, she raised a sharp brow. Curious. This visitor had no torch. How did he expect to fight her if he could not see her? Others had attempted the strategy before, but she made short work of them. Her vision was just fine in the dark. She made her way in close to end this pointless encounter. She had her quiet solitude to return to.
"Hello?" She stopped in startled surprise. Was this some new strategy?
"Is anyone there?" If anyone could have seen her face at that moment, they would have died laughing at her expression...if they could.
"Miss Medusa?" ...There was a first. Moving close to a stray shaft of light, he continued. "Miss Medusa, my name is Fiyero, but people call me Scarecrow. I have been travelling for many years. Missing friends terribly." He muttered something to himself. She could only catch the end. "-most of all." So very curious.
"In my travels, I heard of you and your...predicament. They made you sound like quite a terrible creature, but I thought, and pardon me for saying so, but I thought you sounded like the loneliest woman in the world. I figure, if anyone on this earth could use a friend, it's you." He chuckled to himself. "I've been told that I'm pretty good at being a friend."
A bitter laugh burst from Medusa before she even had a chance to stop it. "A friend?" she sneered. "If you've heard so much about me, you would know why I have none. My stare turns all flesh to stone. The vipers that crown my head are the deadliest that even the gods themselves could create. My claws are so sharp that nearly all I touch is torn asunder." She laughed again. "Tell me, Mr. Scarecrow, what kind of man could possibly be a friend to one such as me?"
There was a pause. Then, with a breath, the man stepped fully into the light. "How about a man with no flesh to petrify? No blood to poison? How about a man that, should he be beaten, feel no pain? Be torn to pieces only to simply pull himself back together? Perhaps, I could be the kind of man to be your friend."
Medusa brought herself into the light. She looked into the scarecrow's eyes. He looked back.
For the first time in many years, Medusa smiled. Fiyero smiled right back.
One day, after years and years had passed, she heard a shuffling near the entrance to her cave. Not the usual clanking of iron and steel from the heavy blades and armor her 'guests' usually wore, but a softer sound. Her mind brought forth images of the fields from her youth. Of the breeze rustlings the long stalks of the grass. Shaking away the thoughts, she slithered silently through the shadows. Spying a figure stumbling over the rocks, she raised a sharp brow. Curious. This visitor had no torch. How did he expect to fight her if he could not see her? Others had attempted the strategy before, but she made short work of them. Her vision was just fine in the dark. She made her way in close to end this pointless encounter. She had her quiet solitude to return to.
"Hello?" She stopped in startled surprise. Was this some new strategy?
"Is anyone there?" If anyone could have seen her face at that moment, they would have died laughing at her expression...if they could.
"Miss Medusa?" ...There was a first. Moving close to a stray shaft of light, he continued. "Miss Medusa, my name is Fiyero, but people call me Scarecrow. I have been travelling for many years. Missing friends terribly." He muttered something to himself. She could only catch the end. "-most of all." So very curious.
"In my travels, I heard of you and your...predicament. They made you sound like quite a terrible creature, but I thought, and pardon me for saying so, but I thought you sounded like the loneliest woman in the world. I figure, if anyone on this earth could use a friend, it's you." He chuckled to himself. "I've been told that I'm pretty good at being a friend."
A bitter laugh burst from Medusa before she even had a chance to stop it. "A friend?" she sneered. "If you've heard so much about me, you would know why I have none. My stare turns all flesh to stone. The vipers that crown my head are the deadliest that even the gods themselves could create. My claws are so sharp that nearly all I touch is torn asunder." She laughed again. "Tell me, Mr. Scarecrow, what kind of man could possibly be a friend to one such as me?"
There was a pause. Then, with a breath, the man stepped fully into the light. "How about a man with no flesh to petrify? No blood to poison? How about a man that, should he be beaten, feel no pain? Be torn to pieces only to simply pull himself back together? Perhaps, I could be the kind of man to be your friend."
Medusa brought herself into the light. She looked into the scarecrow's eyes. He looked back.
For the first time in many years, Medusa smiled. Fiyero smiled right back.