Page 40 of Heroines of Olympus

Medusa almost looks beautiful again. She can start to see the person she was before, simmering under the surface.

Unfortunately, there is another task required of them, but all Medusa knows is that they will check in on a patient. It turns out to not, in fact, be a routine checkup, as the patient in question is Cadmus.

Tension bubbles to the surface at the mention of him. Medusa has forgotten about him entirely and is reminded that Psyche and Cadmus have been spending time together as she heals him. If Cadmus had told Psyche the truth about what happened on the ship, Medusa would know, right? Maybe he is just holding this over her head until she can take it no more.

Medusa bristles when she sees him lying in the bed, and turns to Psyche, saying loudly enough for him to hear, “I don’t trust him. Why is he here?”

“He’s here,” Cadmus interjects for himself, “because he was trying to get here all along.”

Medusa narrows her eyes suspiciously. “And what is that supposed to mean? All it sounds like to me is an intelligence mission for the Heroes and they carted you right in to tend to you.”

At that, Psyche steps forward and respectfully, but firmly, says, “I need you to give us a bit more credit than that. I know you don’t know us all too well, but trust that we don’t take the security of this place lightly. He hasn’t left this room, he’s been monitored, and he has been oathed.”

Oathed. Supposedly there is no way to get around those, but why would he agree to that? Why does he want to be here? She sees no reason to pick this battle but sets an intention to watch him closely and keep her guard up around him.

“I will respect that you have a better understanding of what is better for The Allegiance than I could. But,” she adds, looking Cadmus in the eye, “you can’t possibly expect me to trust you easily. I will wait outside until you’re ready, Psyche.”

Medusa turns and makes her way out of the room. She is almost out when she catches the beginnings of their conversation and is surprised to hear she is the topic.

“I… I’ve heard so many legends about her, including her beauty,before. How is it no one has mentioned how absolutely stunning she still is?”

Psyche chuckles. “She is one of the most beautiful creatures I have ever beheld. Besides, how many people aside from Poseidon have even seen her the way she is now and lived to tell about it?”

Medusa keeps walking and lets their voices fade, having already heard more than she knows what to do with, and wants a few minutes of quiet. How dare he talk about her beauty as if it is something that has anything to do with him? However, it may have been worth hearing him say that, to hear it echoed on Psyche’s lips.

There is a bench right outside of the infirmary and Medusa sits down, content to watch the people stroll by while she waits.

By the time Psyche comes out fifteen minutes later, two stray cats have found their way onto the bench, with one even curled up in Medusa’s lap. The gentle purring comforts her soul and soothes the edges of her nerves. With so much going on, so much to process and to prepare for, these gentle moments ease the difficulty and give Medusa the strength of spirit to keep from crumbling.

Psyche sits next to Medusa on the side that is not currently home to a snoozing feline. “I understand it will take time to trust him if you ever can at all. That’s for you to decide. He is a very useful tool to us, and we are confident that the situation with him is under control. I wanted to give you a heads-up. He will come on this mission. Not only is he originally from a region near the Temple, he did his initial Heroes training regiment at the Temple of Love and knows it better than any other person here in The Allegiance. We need every advantage we can get with something like this. And again, he’s oathed.”

“I understand. I’m sure I can be civil and even work with him if and when necessary. I can’t say I will be perfect at it and I’m certain I will make missteps, but I will do my best.”

Psyche smiles and nods, and they rise from the bench, making their way back through the streets to the Compound. When they reach their floor, Psyche says, “I have an idea! Can you go wait in the lounge for just a moment? I want to put something together for you.”

Medusa tilts her head with a smirk and curiosity. “Oh? Should I be afraid?” She asks, but they both know she is joking. Conversing with Psyche is becoming so easy, even though it has only been a few days. Psyche feels like someone Medusa was always supposed to know, and that invisible string of Fate has finally come into play. Medusa sits down and waits for Psyche to return, but does not have to wait for long. Psyche comes back and motions for Medusa to hop up and take her hand. When she does, Psyche tells Medusa to close her eyes and leads her out of the room. Trying to work out which way they are going, Medusa stiffens when their path indicates their destination is the baths. Before she can open her eyes though, as if sensing her discomfort, Psych squeezes her hand and says, “Please, trust me. If you don’t like it, I promise we can leave.”

Medusa holds her eyes closed even tighter in a display of trust and consent, even if it may have only been perceptible to herself, and nods.

Continuing, taking gentle steps led by Psyche, they do indeed get near the baths. The smell of lavender fills her nostrils and has an immediate calming effect. As they get closer, citrus smells intermingle with the soothing herbal aroma.

They come to a stop, and Psyche tells Medusa she can open her eyes. The view before her takes Medusa’s breath away. Psyche has transformed the baths into something new. There is an illusion of a willow tree separating them from the area of the altercation, reaching across the ceiling, covering it will branches. The cascading leaves hang down like vines, transporting Medusa somewhere else entirely. Every other bathing nook is dark except for their private one that is filled with candles, their flickering flames casting light and shadows that dance along the walls and the surface of the bubbling water, which is filled with flower petals.

Medusa turns to Psyche, mouth agape, speechless. Psyche smiles, “I wanted to make this a safe place for you again, form fresh memories here that hold a more loving place in your heart.” She reaches up and cups Medusa’s cheek in her palm, and it is exhilarating and wonderful at the same time. Medusa is still adjusting to her reaction to Psyche’s touch, but in a much different way than she does with Alec. While this one is unfamiliar to her, it also makes her heart race in anticipation instead of fear and anxiety. Having experienced so few opportunities to be attracted to someone, Medusa is hardly an expert, but it is becoming so clear, even to her cautious sensibilities, that she is falling in love with Psyche. She knows it is not something she should do, but does not know how to make it cease.

It is impossible for Medusa to wrap her mind around Psyche’s reactions to her. It is becoming harder and harder to write them off as masked disdain. Is it possible that Psyche does not see her as a monster? Or even that Psychedoessee her as a monster, but maybe monsters deserve to be loved, too?

Feeling emboldened by what she hopes are pretty clear signals, Medusa slides her free hand around Psyche’s waist and takes a step closer to her until their faces are inches apart. Should she do this? She is tired of every touch being a violation or too much for her. This time, it feels invigorating and the welcoming look in Psyche’s eye has her throwing out every reservation. She leans in and their lips meet.

Heat floods through her body as she closes her eyes and they both lean into the gentle kiss. They stay there, wrapped in that moment for what feels like an instant and an eternity. They both step back at the same time and stare into each other’s eyes for a few heartbeats as the moment settles in. The air around them feels charged and the significance of the kiss caresses them in an afterglow that makes Medusa feel radiant.

Psyche smiles warmly and walks over to the bath. There is a glass bottle on the ledge and the goddess pours a pink liquid into the water that fills the bath with bubbles and more of the same heavenly combination of citrus and lavender.

“I’m going to step into the hall to give you privacy to undress. Then you can get into the bath, beneath the bubbles, and once you’re comfortable I can join you… if you’d like?” Psyche sounds nervous that she might actually say no, but Medusa is pretty certain after that kiss, there may not be many things this literal goddess can ask of her that she won’t gladly do with a smile on her face. She nods her head and Psyche beams and steps out of the room.

Medusa slides into the bath and settles into a comfortable seat before calling for Psyche to return, who comes back in wearing a white silk robe, her long hair up in a twist with two elaborately beaded sticks. Medusa is once again taken aback by Psyche’s beauty, something that is bound to be a recurring problem.

Psyche is not as modest as Medusa and turns and faces away from the bath. She slips her rope off, slowly revealing her back, the curve of her backside, and her lean, long legs. Medusa spins her head and looks away when Psyche turns around to step into the bath. She feels foolish and uncertain about what their pace should be. Without any kind of experience to base this on, aside from a few flings here and there, nothing that had this much spark and passion. She does not want to mess things up by moving faster than she is ready for or misinterpreting the level of reciprocation. As usual, Medusa is over-thinking everything.

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