13

MEDUSA shivered as she leaned against the bark of a dead tree, feeling the cantankerous Satyr's black beady eyes bore a hole straight through her. She startled slightly at seeing the venomous look with which the goat was eyeing her. She was not sure how much more scrutiny and mistrust from the Satyr she could take. Though she calmed down soon enough when the man who had killed her precious Ophion returned with Meg in his strong arms.

The man who'd killed her Hydra, Hercules, spoke very little as he and Phil bustled about the campsite, doing what they could for her to ensure that Meg was comfortable. Medusa stiffened upon noticing the burn mark underneath Megara's eye that was sure to scar if it was not properly treated, and soon.

She nibbled on the wall of her mouth. Her head was still throbbing from where the man had accidentally hacked off a lock of her long hair and the Gorgon's body ached all over. Truth be told, she had never felt more wretched in her entire life. She was sure her entire back was covered in bruises and her dark purple dress would likely be covered in holes from where the bark of the tree she was resting against was poking at her back.

"Her wound needs to be treated," she said but neither Hercules nor the goat did anything, too busy huddled around Meg and fretting over her to pay much attention to anything else going on, let alone Medusa. Hercules seemed to be fretting in place as he fussed over her, not knowing what to do. At first, Medusa wasn't even sure the man had heard her, she had spoken so softly and her words were drowned out by the snakes' hissing of distrust in her ears.

Medusa was not even aware she was looking shocked as her stride met the wall of Hercules' chest as she got up from her spot on the cold and unforgiving ground and moved towards Hercules and the Satyr, eager to examine Megara with her own eyes. Medusa gasped and jumped backward as Hercules, forgetting himself, looked up in alarm at her approach and she quickly squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head.

Hercules ignored the Gorgon's behavior, his mind stuck on one thing and one thing only. Meg.

"Y-you could...really help her?" he asked, hopefully, almost begging Medusa.

The Gorgon slowly opened her eyes, hardly daring to believe what she was hearing, but she felt herself nod her head in agreement. She felt excitement welling in her veins that this mortal was willing to at least entertain the notion of trusting her, but she forced her emotions to try to remain calm. She did not want to frighten him or anger him in any way that would bode ill for her, so, Medusa would be cautious for now.

"Y-yes," she whispered. "I-if you will let me," she stammered shyly, careful to approach with caution and slowly.

Medusa did not want this…Hercules, to get the wrong idea about her intentions. If he did, then her head was as good as detached from her shoulders at the first sign of a twitch that the man misinterpreted the wrong way.

Hercules's eyes grew moist as he thought of Meg's burn mark that now marred her cheek. Though she was still beautiful in his eyes no matter what, there was no telling how Meg would react to it when she woke.

His heart skipped a beat and he hoped the Gorgon standing a few feet in front of him did not notice the hope that flickered through his eyes or the way his gaze remained stuck on Meg as she slept uneasily.

But it was clear by the way she spoke that she had already deduced Hercules' dilemma.

As if the young Gorgon sensed Hercules' conflicting thoughts, she spoke, her voice trembling. "Please. Let me help Meg. She needs help," the Gorgon said, concern laced throughout her soft and timid voice. "I know what I'm doing—"

But Phil bleated an angry retort by way of interrupting Medusa, the Satyr unable to hold his wrath and displeasure any longer.

"You are the last person this broad needs to see right now, Gorgon, you'll turn all of us to stone the first chance you get! Herc here can't trust you as far as he can throw you!" Phil bellowed, his face flushing a deep cherry red as he yelled, to which Pegasus snorted and stomped a hoof against the ground in agitation at all the chaos.

Medusa shot Phil a withering look that if she was of a mind to, could have turned him to stone within the blink of an eye if she but lifted her gaze just a fraction higher. She huffed indignantly and stroked the head of one of her snakes.

"If I wanted you stone, Satyr, you would be stone, already. I've already told you, Meg is a friend to me when I have no one else, you dare suggest I'd hurt her?"

Medusa's voice trembled as she was unable to keep the anger out of her voice, and without waiting for an answer, she stalked even closer. Before Medusa could open her mouth to plead with the Satyr or the man to reconsider, Meg shuddered and groaned in her sleep, as if in pain, and curled in on herself in her sleep.

Hercules stiffened and gave Phil a threatening look before turning questioning, cautious eyes to Medusa.

Medusa cast a curious glance out of the corner of her lowered peripherals to see that Megara's so-aptly named 'Wonder Boy' had turned pale and his hands were turning clammy and beginning to shake. Badly. Hercules looked as much as he dared in the Gorgon's general direction.

"Save her. Please, Medusa, I-I will do anything you ask, I swear," he begged in a shaking voice, ignoring his trainer's protests that they could not bring a Gorgon like her into their lives.

Medusa did not speak. It was clear that this son of Zeus, whom Hades seemed so fixated on, was very much in love with Meg, whether or not he knew it or not.

All Medusa could do was nod her head and pray she would pull Meg through.

Medusa rummaged through one of the saddlebags that had been stripped off the man's winged horse for the night until she found what she was looking for, having been able to smell it from across the other side of the campfire. Whichever one had packed the saddlebags, the Satyr if she had to hazard a guess, had come prepared.

She scooped out of a small makeshift clay jar a thick dark and foul-smelling paste that made the snakes closest to her ears hiss and recoil in displeasure as she painted it over Meg's burn mark, just underneath her right eye.

"There," she murmured, taking a step back to admire her quite literal handiwork. "The poultice will need to be reapplied every few hours but at least while it's healing, this way, it won't become infected," she announced, her expression hopeful.

Hercules held Meg tightly in his arms, relieved tears welling in his eyes that she would be all right, and yet, the man did not let them fall.

"Thank you, Medusa, for Meg. You—you saved her, h-how is it that you know medicines?" he declared, turning his head to the left so he could look into the reflection of his shield and see Medusa's face.

Medusa blushed maddeningly and shook her head and tried to shrug off Hercules' praise.

"Well, I...when one lives alone as I do, one has to learn these things in case an incident ever arises," she muttered, recoiling and blushing a deep dark green maddeningly. She did not want this man's praise, any of it, and sent it away. "Don't thank me yet. She's not out of the woods yet, she's not woken up and there's still a chance of infection setting in. It's a serious wound, and it's going to take some time to heal. I-I only did what anyone else would do."

When she was finished, Medusa rose to her feet with a pained groan at the stiffness in her joints from all the walking and running she had been doing here lately and wearily sat by the fire, her shoulders slumped in defeat.

The edges of her mouth turned down in a frown as she noticed the mistrustful look the Satyr was giving.

She felt a surge of annoyance kindle to life within her chest and the words were ripped from her lips as she hissed them more than spoke them, directing her venom at the man's apparent personal trainer and mentor.

"I've already told you, if I wanted you stone, then you would be stone," Medusa snapped, angrily turning her head and adjusting her body so that her profile was turned to the side so she was not in danger of turning any of them to stone on accident. "But I don't, despite what you think of me, Phil. And you, Hercules," she sighed heavily, frustrated. She bit down hard on her bottom lip and watched Meg, who now seemed to be peacefully sleeping, and toyed with a lock of her long hair, smiling softly as she slowly lulled this particular snake to sleep with her gentle touch. "I wasn't always like this. I-I wasn't always a monster," she whispered, shamefaced, aware she was babbling.

"What? What happened?" Hercules questioned, his mind struggling to comprehend it all as he moved once more to take Meg in his arms, though not before unclasping his thick blue cloak and draping it over her badly shivering form.

He was pleased that she seemed to calm a little once his cloak was over her and he held her as firmly as he dared in his arms. Through her tears now brimming in her yellow eyes, Medusa watched Hercules wearily and decided that she had no reason not to trust this man, as Meg did, even though this man had slaughtered her Hydra.

She took a deep breath and began to explain the reasons for her monstrous appearance, staring deep into the depths of the campfire they have gathered around as though she thought she could burn the horrific memories out of her mind, forever. Medusa could no longer hold back her anger and heartbreak.

Hercules could only watch as Medusa's entire demeanor stiffened, and she licked her lips as her jaw hardened. It was clear that recalling the memories of what had happened was painful for her, but he was glad she was sharing them.

"I don't remember much of my life before, as a human, but I remember the day it happened. I was at the temple for prayers and the most beautiful man I ever saw took an interest in me while I was there. I did not know until afterward after it happened, who he was. He had disguised himself to see me," she began, her voice hushed, barely a whisper. "It was a goddess who cursed me. The god of the sea, Poseidon, he uh…forced himself…"

Hercules saw a swallow cascade down Medusa's throat.

"Medusa, I...I'm sorry, I...I didn't know," Hercules murmured, a faint blush coming over his cheeks.

"I tried to fight against him. I struck him and tried to run out of the temple. That was when Athena appeared." She stared numbly into the flames and even through the reflection of his shield, Hercules could see the pain in her eyes.

Phil narrowed his eyes. "Why would it have been Athena who cursed you to look like this, Gorg—I mean...uh...Medusa," he quickly corrected upon being on the receiving end of a particularly stony look from his champ, who did not like anyone calling the broad Megara's unexpected savior anything less than polite.

Hercules frowned at Phil before returning his gaze to the Gorgon who had saved Meg's life.

Staring at the young Gorgon who, now that he was looking hard enough, could see the shadow underneath of the beautiful woman she once was, and even as a Gorgon, Hercules thought there was something of her that was pretty enough. Mother and Father had told him of gods forcing themselves onto unwilling young women but he'd never agreed with such actions. There was absolutely nothing enjoyable in seeing a woman suffer like that, and up until he had met Meg, he had never taken an interest in a woman before. And if it weren't for Medusa, Meg would be dead.

Hercules was pulled back to the present matter at hand by the sound of Medusa's shy voice wafting through the air.

When she spoke, there was a bitterness seeping its way to the surface of her voice he was quick to decide he did not like it, but all he could do right now was listen to the young Gorgon's tale of heartbreak and woe, and feel for her.

"She loved him…" Medusa inhaled sharply, pain in her voice as she spoke. "Athena thought that I tried to seduce him, but she could not have been more wrong," she hissed. "For punishment, I did all I could to stop him, and yet I was the one punished for doing nothing wrong. She should have gone for Poseidon but she loved him and was willing to turn a blind eye." A cynical chuckle escaped her as she stroked a lock of her hair and let out a sigh.

Horrified at the truly terrible turn her life had taken for the worst, Hercules felt hollow as he spoke to her.

"I—I'm sorry," Hercules stammered, his tongue feeling thick in his mouth. He was not sure what to say.

Though one of Medusa's snakes hissed in displeasure as it quickly cut him off from what he had been about to say next, Medusa's demeanor was angry as Medusa rose to her feet, shocked.

"Don't," she pleaded in a warbling voice that sounded truly pathetic, even to her ears.

She turned away and furiously blinked back at the onset of what would soon be fresh tears trailing down her cheeks if she could not control herself.

"I-I don't want your pity or anyone else's. Athena cursed me and my entire family to live as these beasts, for his sin. I have to hold out hope that someday, even if I have to beg her, she'll find it within her heart to lift this curse."

Hercules' eyes widened as his grip on Meg in his arms tightened as she paraded her back to him, her way of terminating a conversation, he suspected, and shot Phil a questioning look. But the rueful and mistrusting glower Phil shot him told him that Phil's help in persuading her to stay was too much to hope for.

He felt his heart sink to the pit of his stomach as she began to walk away to head deeper into the woods.

A wave of guilt washed over Hercules, heavy and suffocating. He had very nearly killed this Gorgon.

"I—I h-had no idea," he stammered, eyes widening. "I-I'm sorry," Hercules stuttered. "No one told me."

"You never asked, kid," Phil grunted under his breath as he kept his arms folded across his chest.

A muscle in Medusa's jaw clenched and tightened as she clenched her teeth and began to walk away.

"Thank you, Hercules, for…for not killing me back there earlier. You could have, but you didn't." He couldn't see it as she was turned away from him, but Medusa was smiling bitterly, sadly, to herself. "You might be the first mortal man I've encountered who didn't immediately hate me right from the start. Meg is lucky, to have a good friend like you, there don't seem to be too many men in this world who don't fear what I've become," she murmured, her tone sad.

Hercules drew in a sharp breath.

"Poseidon, the...the god who hurt you, he was punished?" he asked, feeling certain he already knew the answer, and yet, he clung to an inkling of hope welling within his chest that Medusa's circumstances were different. The bitter laugh that Medusa let out made him flinch and realize that he had been naive and a fool to hope for as much.

She almost turned to face him, to look at him incredulously in shocked awe out of the corner of her eye but did not.

"C'mon, 'Wonder Boy', you can't be so naïve as to believe that? Of course, he wasn't punished for my attack."

Hercules tried to picture Medusa as a beautiful young woman, bruised, beaten, humiliated, broken, bleeding, pleading with the gods to save her, only to curse her instead. The gruesome image made him shudder with angst.

"I-I'm sorry, Medusa, that should never have happened to you, ever, what…what can I do to try to help?" he said, not knowing what else to say and yet already knowing Medusa would hate hearing it.

True to form, the Gorgon hissed in the back of her throat and caused Pegasus to whinny in fear as she turned away.

"What are you apologizing for? You weren't the one who attacked me, Poseidon was. Anyways, I told you I have no use or want for your pity. Or anyone else's, for that matter." Medusa's tone was frosty as she began to walk away.

Hercules numbly nodded as he watched Medusa parade her back to him and Phil, half of a mind to follow her, but the other half felt justified in staying right here by the fire and continuing to hold Meg in his arms while she slept and see to it that she was kept protected.

His eyebrows rose as he watched Meg's unlikely savior and a friend go and it was then that a strange and perhaps wildly inappropriate thought came to him. He hesitated, unsure whether or not to ask Medusa this, but his curiosity was almost overwhelming. He had to get it out, he had to know the truth.

"Y-your hair, Medusa, b-before, before your curse," he stammered, fumbling over his words as they reached Medusa's ears and made the young Gorgon freeze in her tracks. He could tell she was listening though, and he took that as a good sign and continued, letting out a breath he'd not even realized he'd held it. "What color was it?"

Medusa stood as still as one of the statues back home in her grotto. Her nervous yellow eyes flicked down to the ground. She felt as though somehow, she should not answer Meg's 'Wonder Boy', but…he had given her no reason not to trust him.

Medusa turned her profile to the side and eyed Hercules sadly out of the corner of her lowered gaze, her yellow eyes boring a hole into the dirt beneath her feet. She pleaded silently with Hercules to understand, that she did not bring up her past and the memories that haunted her still to this day to garner sympathy and pity, but to hopefully earn his trust and to have him and the Satyr seated next to him to stop eyeing her so spitefully.

All she wanted now was to live out the rest of her cursed life in peace. Medusa fought the tears that stung her eyes. These days, she could barely remember what she had looked like as a young woman, before.

The images that tended to flit through her mind's eye when she least expected them were fleeting at best, usually passing her by too quickly for her to comprehend them.

She lifted her head and eyed Hercules with a pained expression as she remembered, seeing rich flashes of a lovely dark brown color flit through her mind as she forced herself to relive the worst day of her life thus far.

Finally, Medusa tilted her head.

"Brown, Hercules,my...my hair was brown, I...I think. It's been so long though, I'm not even sure I remember anymore," she whispered in a voice that was so faint that for a moment, Hercules wasn't even sure that she had spoken at all. But she continued before he could speak. "E-excuse me, Hercules, I um...I'm not feeling well, and I think I need to take a walk. I won't be gone long or very far," she stammered.

She made to turn away, but then something gave her pause and she hesitated, wanting in her mind time to linger.

"You could have killed me back there, in the woods, when the forest burned. When you saw me with Meg, Hercules." The Gorgon's words were unassuming and soft and carried no hint of blame whatsoever, though she knew Hercules would have every right not to trust her, considering what she was.

His immediate reaction upon hearing her unexpectedly grateful words, as Medusa predicted, was an instant wariness. The Satyr too did not yet seem entirely convinced, either.

"You could have, but you didn't," she whispered, her voice serious but a twinge of awe rested in the Gorgon's voice as well. "You let me come back with you to your camp here and you let me help Meg," she gestured with a wave of her hand towards Meg's sleeping form.

"Even knowing what I am, you still didn't kill me." Medusa felt her breath catch in her throat and she fought against the urge to wring her hands together out of nervous habit, but this was admittedly the longest interaction she'd had with humans before since she had been cursed like this. "I-I don't deserve your kindness, b-but…I want you both to know that I'm truly grateful for it. I will try my best not to cause any trouble for either of you. You've my word."

She ducked her head and fled without bothering to look back at Hercules, her words utterly spent and her tears threatening to come to her yet again. She fled before Hercules could plead with her to stay, though he was unwilling to leave Meg's side for even a moment. Phil snorted and rolled his eyes to the sky, turning his attention to Hercules.

"You got a pretty deadly dame angry with you, champ," Phil chuckled darkly. "Take a little friendly advice, kid, from a Satyr who's had plenty of women mad at him," he offered Hercules, unsolicited. "Never underestimate the fury of a woman," he warned, his black eyes flashing. "Especially not a Gorgon, kid."

Hercules frowned and rolled his eyes in disgust, not appreciating Phil's attitude towards Meg or Medusa, instead keeping his eyes fixed on her. He wanted to go after Medusa, to plead with her to stay, that he needed her, and more importantly, Meg did, but instead, Phil's hand coming to rest on his thigh withdrew Hercules from his doubts.

"Let her go, kid. Give her the space. She needs it. I gotta say, I don't know what's come over you, bringin' this broad and now a stone-cold killer of a Gorgon into our midst, but there are worse creatures to keep company with. Just...please don't make me regret trustin' you, Champ, I'm beggin' you."

Given Phil's dislike and mistrust of the Gorgon, he was smiling almost understandingly up at Hercules, which made him wonder what was causing him to change his mind.

Hercules hesitated, looking after Medusa's retreating silhouette as she disappeared into the forest, only tearing his gaze away when he could no longer see her, shifting Meg in his arms.

He was certain that she was the last person Medusa wanted to see right now and feared that Phil was correct.

Hercules was at a loss for words as he held Meg in his arms, his mind once more drifting to thoughts of the handsome unfamiliar god he had laid eyes upon earlier, that cloaked and shrouded figure that made him think of a physical embodiment of death itself. He wondered which god it was, and what he wanted with Meg.

Hercules shivered and shook his head vehemently to himself, willing the image to leave him. Slowly, he leaned down and laid a gentle kiss on Meg's forehead. How he longed to feel her lips move against his in another kiss again, but…now wasn't the time. He sighed and held her tighter so that Meg was almost flush against him, protecting her.

Phil cautiously approached where Hercules sat, shocked at the mark that now marred Meg's beautiful features. As cold and apathetic as he was acting towards Meg, still not trusting this broad, not even he would wish her to suffer this.

"What in Zeus's name happened, kid? The fire…it started of nowhere, an' I ain't never seen a natural fire spread that fast, you feel me? How could it happen? There wasn't anything natural about that fire, some god or other, some creature, was behind this, her master, maybe? I'm tellin' you, Champ, just like a blacksmith would, all the pieces, they ain't welding together true. She's lying," Phil furrowed his brows in deep thought as he looked over Meg's face.

Hercules glanced down nervously at Meg's curled body huddled against his for warmth and his eyes lowered, lost.

"I know that she's hiding something, I don't need you to tell me that. I need to talk to her, Phil…Something's not right," he murmured, and stared off into the distance, suddenly catching himself hoping that Medusa returned soon.

MEDUSA tried to vest herself to remain in one piece as she ran towards the edge of the woods at a near sprint. The anger and shock and embarrassment she had felt at re-telling her past to Meg's friend she seemed so smitten with had thankfully subsided. But all that was left in its place was a hollow ache in her heart, a dull acceptance that she would never be rid of Athena's curse. She would die as this monster, she was sure of it, never again to be a human.

Medusa paused when she came to the edge of the river, just on the outskirts of the woods. She almost expected to hear Hercules' footsteps behind her, hurrying to catch up, to plead with her to come back.

Medusa knew that if she turned and saw Hercules coming towards her, she would be powerless to resist and she did not want to be near anyone at the moment with how she felt. Vulnerable. Weak. Two things that, since her curse, she had sworn never to be again. But when she'd felt Hercules' stare boring into her as she recanted the tale of how she had come to be this accursed wretch whose head every villager wanted to be mounted on their wall like some trophy, it had taken everything within herself not to raise her gaze and let herself look into his sky-blue irises.

But almost as soon as the thoughts formed in her mind, Medusa quickly felt a piece of her resolve chip away and fail her. It made her angry with herself, as she could not allow her fury at what Athena had done to her to fade.

She wanted companionship, more than anything, but for that to happen, the poor guy would have to be—

No! Medusa's eyes widened as she realized what she was doing to herself. She forced her mind to grind to a halt and shook away such unhelpful thoughts.

There was no room in her life left now for daydreaming fantasies of having her curse ever reversed, no hope of her meeting a man and settling down with him and enjoying a life of peace, and happiness. Those dreams, like the forest Hades had set on fire, needed to be burned and made history. She was doomed never to know true happiness. Happiness. Medusa almost felt herself smiling sadly at the notion. Happiness. Love. Emotions, feelings that had not been made available to her since the goddess Athena had seen fit to ruin her life for the simple crime of being attacked by a god whose attention and whose heart she had not even wanted, and would never want. Several seconds ticked by before Medusa realized, surprised and caught off guard, that she was not alone down by the river.

A figure stood a few feet away from her with his back to her. She froze, torn by her indecision on whether or not to flee, as she could see that the man was armed, he carried a knife around his belt. But an enemy, she thought, would not be standing in and taking in the sights, and so, Medusa made the perhaps foolish decision to approach him without fear. The Gorgon made it a point to purposefully step quite loudly on a few twigs and leaves as she drew closer. She did not want to frighten the fellow and end up with a dagger to the stomach or her neck, Medusa knew.

The man glanced at her as Medusa came to stand beside him while still keeping a respectful enough distance away, and her first thought of him was the man's features were striking in the moonlight. The stranger's jaw and cheekbones were sharp, yet his demeanor seemed kind, his clothing simple, a man of modest tastes.

As he twisted his neck slightly to better look in her general direction, Medusa made to squeeze her eyes shut, until she realized that he was blind, his eyes were a faint hazy cloudy blue.

"Uh, h-hello?" The man's tenor-like voice pulled the shocked Gorgon out of her stunned stupor as her yellow eyes made a quick scan of his black-cloaked form which obscured most of his frame and his face under the hood.

But what Medusa could see of him, she immediately knew that she liked him. Her eyelids fluttered for a moment.

"I-I'm sorry, I-I was just…uh…lost in thought for a moment, h-how can I help you, guy, are you…lost? What are you doing out here all alone?" Medusa laughed nervously and hushed the snakes who were hissing into her ear, willing them to be quiet not only so she could seem more attentive but also to get a better look at this blind man.

The man suddenly wrung his hands together in front of him as if nervous.

"I-I-I was looking for someone, a-and one of the Thebans I passed by in the street thought they…saw her go into the woods." The nervous man's voice lowered an octave as he stammered over his words, continuing to wring his hands in front of him. Medusa tried to stifle a giggle from observing the blind man's odd behavior.

Though strange and skittish for no apparent reason, she found him to be quite endearing. She pondered over his words and wondered if the 'someone' he was looking for was Meg.

The Gorgon stepped on a twig as she stepped closer and watched, interested, as the blind man jumped a bit at the sudden noise, a muscle in his angular jaw twitching as he did so, but he stayed still.

"Well, sir, tell me about them. What's their name?" Medusa asked, trying to keep her voice as level-headed as possible, as her hair fell beside her face.

His lips parted, as if to say something, however, it took the man a moment to.

"Meg." Speaking only her new friend's name, the blind man took a step forward hesitantly.

Medusa's suspicions and cautious nature remained on their guard. He seemed kind enough but, she knew better than most that looks could be quite deceiving.

Medusa's lips twitched.

"This…ah… 'Meg' of yours, she is someone special to you?" she inquired, not sure she wanted to know the answer, for she had seen how Hercules was holding Meg back at their campsite, as though nothing else in the world mattered but her. The cloaked blind man's whole demeanor changed upon hearing Meg's name on her lips.

"She...she…I…I was her…we were…we were lovers," he confessed, the wringing of his calloused hands only worsening over time.

She knew if the man would lower his cloak and turn his face to her, he'd be blushing deep cherry red.

"I…I see…" Medusa stammered, not quite sure what else to say.

She almost wanted to lie to this man, to tell him that Meg had not gone into the forest, but something within her felt wrong, and this man, though he did not know what she was, he seemed kind enough.

Despite her best efforts to contain her honesty, she could not do it, and before the Gorgon could stop herself, the truth was ripped from her lips of its own accord.

"I know where she is, sir. Meg is…a friend of mine. She's not far at all." Medusa watched as the man's expression almost grew hopeful, and then a cloud of remorse flickered across his angular features.

"I need to see her, please, take me to her," the man implored Medusa, stepping forward and taking hold of her arm before Medusa could protest or even pull away. She stiffened as the man's fingers curled over the scales that now covered her arm. She felt him tense and freeze in his tracks, and Medusa herself went as still and silent as an owl.

But if this nameless man was at all bothered by what she was, if he knew, he was good at hiding his disgust.

Looking at him, Medusa could not help but let out a sigh of reluctant agreement. She suspected that Meg and her former lover were now bound to run into one another as long as they were both in Thebes at some point. Prolonging the confrontation that was to come certainly would not help, and it was best they got things off their chest now.

Still. That did not mean this was going to be an easy conversation for her friend to have, let alone now with Meg's new man in the picture. But if she lied about having run into anyone when she returned to the camp, it would not bode well for her.

Medusa began to wonder whether bringing this man who claimed to have a history with Meg back to the camp with Hercules present was such a good idea.

But she was no coward, however, and something within the Gorgon told her instincts that she could trust this man.

"Very well," she sighed, lifting the skirts of her dark purple dress a bit, and in a moment of boldness that surprised even herself, she lowered her hand to his and took his hand, surprised by how warm it felt now.

A shiver went down her spine as she realized this man was holding her hand and he'd not flinched away out of fear or even disgust. As Medusa began to lead him back towards the camp, holding the man's hand, suddenly, she thought she needed a deeper connection with him.

"Wh-what's your name?" she asked as kindly as she could.

It seemed an eternity before the man spoke, and when he did, the reveal of his name sent a chill down her spine.

"Adonis, my lady. My name is Adonis."