The Gorgon's Daughter

#9

Chris was no fool. He knew all too well exactly what his son's secretive manner and moony eyes signified. The only problem was that he'd never seen Andy with any of the village girls for any noteworthy amount of time; Andy had only shown disdain when they showed their interest.

He knew the logical explanation; Andy had grown into a young man, ad had to have felt the desires that came with such. Clearly, his son did not care for the company of women, and preferred something else entirely.

Chris didn't know what to do about the situation. Men who loved other men were not treated well in the village at all. He loved his son, and didn't personally care who Andy found love with, just that he was content. But the prospect of a son having to cope with a life of secrecy when it came to romance was not a happy one at all.

Thus, Chris did what most fathers would do. He worked Andy all the harder in the vineyard, hoping the hard labor would help to clear his head. Perhaps it was a phase? In the meantime, he'd turn a blind eye to the grapes that had consistently gone missing.

--

Andy was finding it harder and harder to find time to come see (Y/N). But for reasons he was not certain of, he felt the need for her company grow even more pressing with each day.

Together, the two of them had already finished the first play in The Oresteia, Agamemnon. They had made decent headway into The Choephoroe.

The king had been murdered by his treacherous wife, and she had been joined by her exiled lover, Aegisthus. In the second play, Agamemnon's son, Orestes, had just returned, on orders from Apollo, to exact vengeance, and had just been reunited with his sister, Electra. Things were just starting to get exciting, and Andy couldn't wait for the third play, Eumenides, his favorite.

But what Andy hadn't anticipated was (Y/N)'s personal take on any of, what was to him, ordinary prose. They were reading, together, through a passage where the Chorus was urging Orestes to follow through on his resolution to murder his mother.

"Your turn," said Andy, pleased with (Y/N)'s progress.

(Y/N) was unsure why some of them had become restless. Nothing was out of the ordinary. But, in fact, they, too, had learned to read along with her, and a few had read some ways ahead.

"And do you with courage, when there comes,
the time for you to act, when she cries
to you, "My child!" utter your father's name,
your father's, and accomplish
an act of horror none can blame!"

Andy nodded, satisfied. "Good." He cleared his throat.

"Maintain in your breast
the heart of Perseus-"

(Y/N) was horrified! The snakes of her hair hissed and spat with displeasure! "-Perseus? The heart of a sick murderer! I thought they believed his path was righteous!"

Andy was immediately mortified. "No, I'm so sorry! I didn't think-"

(Y/N) was distraught. "-Is this what humans think of the man that killed my aunt-"

Andy was shocked. "-Your aunt?"

(Y/N) paid him no heed, "He cut her head off as she slept! For no cause! You mean to tell me that he is revered as a hero? And you, do you hope to be like Perseus, to take my head?!?" (Y/N) slapped her tail against the stone plinth's supports, aggravated.

Andy had never been so tempted to turn and face (Y/N) before. He looked at her earnestly in the reflection of his shield. "No! I had completely forgotten he was even mentioned in the play! I, I'd heard of him before, but I didn't know about your family, I'm so sorry... Please..."

(Y/N) sniffed. "I've had enough of reading this rubbish for the day!"

Andy felt a pain in his chest at the hurt sound in (Y/N)'s voice. "Perhaps, if you tell me your story, I can do better, find a different text. Please? I'm so sorry."

(Y/N) was swayed by the mollifying tones of Andy's apology. He was so difficult to stay mad at. And so foolishly brave! Most any human in their right mind would have fled before the wrath of a Gorgon!

And so, for the first time, she shared the story of her family. How the three original Gorgons had come to be, all because of the deceit of Poseidon and the cruel judgment of Athena. Of course, (Y/N)'s grandmother, Ceto, had kept the secret of (Y/N)'s hope for salvation, so she knew nothing of any faint hope for a different sort of life.

Andy attended quietly, both fascinated and horrified. How long had (Y/N) been alone; it wasn't right, it wasn't just!

After (Y/N) had finished her sorrowful tale, Andy spoke from the heart. "Listen, there are many gods now, and I believe those of which you speak have fallen from power, there is little serious belief. Let us go, together, and seek them out! Let us demand that Athena right her wrongs, and free you from a state that forces you to isolation!"

(Y/N) had often harbored such pretty, little fantasies. "Oh? And how am I to move about, without petrifying every man, woman, and child I come across? You can see very well the damage I have done, over the centuries, even in seclusion."

Andy thought for a moment, unwilling to give up. "Do you trust me?"

(Y/N) hesitated. She had never trusted a human before, they had only ever tried to do her harm or cowered in fear. But she realized, deep in her bosom, that trust Andy, she did indeed. "And if I do?"

Andy's resolve hardened. "Then we shall blindfold you, and I will guide you. We won't stop until you are free."