Ariadne

by Jennifer Saint

What I did not know was that I had hit upon a truth of womanhood: however blameless a life we led, the passions and the greed of men could bring us to ruin, and there was nothing we could do.

No longer was my world one of brave heroes; I was learning all too swiftly the women’s pain that throbbed unspoken through the tales of their feats.

I only knew Medusa as a monster. I had not thought she had ever been anything else. The stories of Perseus did not allow for a Medusa with a story of her own.

But now I found that I would have given any number of moments with Theseus for just one more conversation with my sister.

😭

Theseus did not need a wife; he needed a grateful audience and someone to run the city while he carved his name into history.

I would show him that I had spent my years learning; while he wandered the world in search of excitement, I had been here watching and waiting.

I would not let a man who knew the value of nothing make me doubt the value of myself.

“Medusa was made into a monster to pay for Poseidon’s crime,” I reminded him. “Now a man flaunts her head, lurid and grotesque, to punish his enemies. Everyone shrinks from her. But Poseidon’s altars still burn with offerings.”