Summary: Mica is a hero on a quest, when she stumbles upon Meg living in the middle of nowhere. Why would the goddess lead her here?
For @lunarlover12 <3 thank you for your support!
Read here on Ao3.
Mica adjusted her grip on her shield as she slashed her way through the thicket. Birds stopped singing a while ago, leaving her in foreboding silence. A small clay wall rose out of the ground in front of her, crumbling and broken. Mica picked her way carefully, wary of cutting herself on the sharp edges. A tingle of magic washed over her as she crossed over the line, and Mica shivered.
The forest gave way to a garden, unkempt and weathered. The path was overgrown with bushes, and vines climbed over the stone statues, endless rows of Greek warriors frozen in fear, spears raised. Mica bit her lip at the sight, wondering if she would join them soon: pretty decoration no one took care of.
She pushed on regardless.
In the middle of the garden stood a small house. More of a hovel, really, with one corner missing, patched with a net of vines. A millstone leaned against one side, right next to a quiver full of arrows. Mica looked around cautiously, shield and sword raised. She was unsure what she would find, but her goddess had sent her here for a purpose, and Mica was determined to please her.
The sound of gravel crunching had Mica spin around, instinctively raising her shield.
A woman stood on the path, freezing as she heard Mica move. She looked a handful of summers older than Mica, dressed in simple, worn linen, with her hair wrapped up in cloth. She turned towards Mica slowly, and Mica lowered her sword. The woman’s eyes were milky white.
“Greetings,” Mica said, gaze roaming over the garden behind the woman. “The Lady Lindsay sends me. Are you in distress?”
Her lips curved into a wry smile, but she relaxed at Mica’s words.
“Not until you decide to hurt me.” She cocked her head, as if listening for something. “I am Megara, and I live here. You must be tired from your journey, hero. Please, come in.”
Mica hesitated, giving the garden one more glance over before setting down her sword and shield next to the quiver.
“Thank you for your hospitality, Megara. My name is Mica, and I’m on a quest for the Lady.”
They sat down on the soft earth, another millstone serving as a table. Megara offered her food and drink, and Mica gladly accepted.
“Tell me about your quest, Champion of the Lady. What are you looking for?”
“A curse my goddess wants me to break,” Mica answered promptly, washing her hands in the small bowl provided by her hostess. “She send me in this direction.” She paused, hesitating. “This is the garden of a Gorgon, isn’t it?”
Megara shrugged one shoulder. “It might have been, once.”
She seemed distracted, and Mica left her to her thoughts as she enjoyed the food and wine. She’d hunted her own food the last couple days, and the variety of dishes lifted her spirits, even as the wine loosened her tongue.
“I suppose a Gorgon would pose no danger to you, considering you’re…” Mica mused absently, meeting Megara’s blank gaze. Heat flushed over her skin as the words registered, and Mica slapped a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. That was incredibly rude-”
Megara waved her off, a slight smile playing around her lips.
“I take no offense, Champion. I know I must appear quite fragile, but I promise, I’m not helpless.”
That wasn’t what she’d meant, and Mica opened her mouth to correct her- then snapped it shut. No need to insult her hostess further. Her gaze dropped to Megara’s shoulder, where her dress was slowly slipping off. Mica shifted in her seat, mustering Megara closely. Scars peeked out from under the sleeves, and the stitches told a story of tear rather than wear.
Not until you decide to hurt me.
As if feeling Mica’s gaze on her, the woman looked up and smiled. Her face was lit up by the warm light of the fire. Mica’s breath caught in her throat. She was beautiful- gorgeous. A beauty that rivalled the gods, and what a treacherous thought that was. Bless the Lady for guiding her here.
“It is late. Stay the night, Champion. You still have a long journey ahead of you,” Megara offered.
“I wouldn’t want to put you out of your bed,” Mica declined politely. The hut was too small for more than the bed, the table, a small chest, and a fireplace built into the clay wall.
Megara shrugged. “We can share. Unless you object?”
Mischief flitted over her face, and Mica’s heart stuttered as she understood the invitation for what it was.
“You are very generous,” Mica murmured, bowing her head. “If you have a task for me so I may repay you-”
“I’m sure I can think of something.” Megara sounded amused, holding out a hand for Mica. Unfolding her legs, Mica rose, taking the outstretched hand and lifting the palm to her lips.
“Then I am at your service, Megara.”
The fingers trailed along her lips and up her cheek, before cupping Mica’s face and tilting it towards Megara.
“Call me Meg,” the woman whispered, voice husky and low. Mica closed her eyes and leaned into her palm. “All my lovers do.”
There was a bitterness to those words, one that spoke of great tragedy. Mica raised her hand to cover Meg’s, thumb stroking over the back.
“Meg.”
Mica pulled her closer, wrapping an arm around her waist. Meg dropped her hand from Mica’s face, their breath mingling, lips just inches from touching.
“Let me,” Meg murmured, and Mica closed her eyes. Deft fingers unstrapped her chestplate, hands trailing over her curves. Like a sculptor might, Mica thought, and pulled Meg into a searing kiss.
They rid each other of their clothes quickly, but when Mica reached for the headscarf, Meg stopped her with a gentle touch.
“Leave it, please.”
Instead of answering, Mica kissed along Meg’s jaw, down the arch of her neck, hands dropping to rest on her hips.
They made love to each other until the fire burned down to mere embers. Mica curled around Meg, brushing a light kiss behind her ear. The sound of Meg’s soft gasp followed Mica into her dreams.
She woke in a familiar, sunlit clearing; a river wound through the trees, the song of birds in the air. Mica laid there and stared at the canopy, the leaves dancing in the wind. The only thing between her and the sun, between her and-
“Hey there, sleepyhead,” a voice said, familiar in its echoing strangeness. Mica turned her head. A woman was lying next to her, head propped on her elbow and an amused smile on her lips. Her hair fanned out behind her, shining brilliantly in all the colours of the sun: from the bright yellow of corn to the reds of autumn leaves.
“My lady,” Mica murmured reverently. Lindsay grinned, bopping her nose. Warmth spread from the point of contact, leaving Mica’s cheeks flushed. Lindsay laughed, throwing her head back.
“My precious champion,” she said fondly, cupping Mica’s face. “Tell me, what have you learned?”
So Mica told her, about her journey, about the town which led her to the forest where she found a Gorgon’s garden. And she told her of the woman in the hut.
“Who is she, my lady?” Mica finally asked. “I know she’s not what she seems, but…” Mica trailed off.
“She’s special.”
“I know,” Mica blurted out, then blushed furiously. Lindsay’s laughter tingled through the air.
“You’re lucky I’m not inclined towards jealousy, precious,” Lindsay joked. Mica buried her face into her hands. A pause and a nudge. Lindsay pulled her hands away and caught her eyes, smiling softly. “But yes. Meg is… she’s very special.”
Call me Meg. All my lovers do.
Lindsay might not be a jealous goddess, but other deities certainly were. Mica fell silent, turning the thought over in her head. Lindsay tasked her with the breaking of a curse, and Meg was weirdly insistent about keeping her head covered, about not letting Mica touch there. Everyone knew a jealous god was prone to overreaction to even the smallest slight.
“Maybe,” Mica said slowly, glancing up at her goddess. “You can’t tell me?”
Lindsay grinned grimly, lips twisted up in a mocking grimace. The clearing darkened, sunlight hidden by clouds, leaving Mica cold and shivering. “That would be interfering, wouldn’t it?”
Mica bit her lip, swallowed. “I will do my best,” she promised.
Lindsay’s face relaxed, and warmth returned to them.
“I know you will.”
The lady’s fond voice followed her into sleep, lingering certainty and determination a warm curl in her chest as she woke. The bed next to her was empty, but not yet cold. Mica turned around, propped herself up to watch Meg hunched over the fire.
“Good morning.”
Meg flinched, a hand going up to the cloth pinning her hair in place. She patted it down, relaxing slowly. Then she turned her head in Mica’s direction, a small smile on her face.
“Morning. I made breakfast.” Meg gestured to the millstone where she’d laid out bread, along with an array of fruits and vegetables. “I have some eggs, too, once the water boils. If you’d like.”
“Thank you.” Mica sat up, blanket pooling around her waist. She looked around, but only saw her chestplate leaning against the wall. “Have you seen my clothes?”
“Oh! I took the liberty of washing them. They’re hanging outside to dry.”
Mica frowned, wrapping the blanket around herself.
“You’ve been busy.” An obvious statement, perhaps. Mica glanced up to the corner where sunlight shone through the holes. “How long have I been asleep?”
“A while,” Meg answered evasively, puttering around with the pot. “You slept deeply, I didn’t wish to disturb you.”
Mica hummed, watching her closely. “I was communing with the Lady. Sometimes she can reach me in my dreams.”
If she hadn’t kept a close eye on Meg, Mica doubted she’d have caught the way her shoulders stiffened at the mention of the goddess.
“Oh? Do you know where to go from here, then?” Meg asked, forcefully nonchalant. Mica raised her brows.
“Not exactly.” Mica stood up, walking over to Meg. She touched her shoulder, letting her know where she was. “But I think I’m in the right place.”
“She told you?” Meg blurted out, before snapping her mouth shut. Mica let her fingers trail down Meg’s arm.
“That’s not how it works,” she explained. “The Lady may guide me, but she cannot say what needs to be done.”
“I-” Meg ducked her head.
“You loved her, didn’t you?” Mica asked quietly, thumb rubbing soothing circles on Meg’s skin. “That’s why you were cursed.”
“I did.” Meg’s voice broke. “I do.”
“May I see?” Mica asked, gesturing to her own hair. Meg hesitated, reaching up to the cloth covering hers.
“I-” She swallowed, visibly steeling herself. “Alright.”
She unwound the scarf layer by layer, and underneath her hair shifted. As the cloth dropped to the floor, Meg’s hair rose, a dark mess of hissing snakes, tongues darting out to taste the air. Mica stared, frozen to the spot. Her eyes travelled down the shimmering scales of dark green and black, to meet eyes as brown as a doe in spring. Mica blinked.
“You can see?” she asked, taken aback. Meg grimaced.
“Only if I… don’t hide the monstrousness.” She gestured to the snakes atop her head. “It’s part of the curse - if I try to blind others by ‘playing harmless’, I’m blinded myself.”
Mica thought of goddesses and jealousy and sunlight. She looked at this poor woman, exiled to a hut in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by statues of warriors who came to claim her head.
“I will break the curse,” Mica promised solemnly, holding Meg’s gaze. “Whatever it takes.”
“I believe you,” Meg whispered hoarsely, a smile breaking out over her face.
Yo ho ho,
Just wanted to send you one last anon to say that I have had so much fun getting your fic together and getting to know you, a bit.
I am about to start marathon-hosting everyone that I've ever known, so your gift is scheduled for Christmas Eve - look out for it. I hope you love it!!
Happy, happy Christmas! I hope you have fun and get lots of fun gifts.
Also, I really hope your computer was an easy fix and not a whole new power supply or a full death...
Love and hugs!!
I am so, so looking forward to your fic!
And thank you for being such a lovely Santa!! It's been a lot of fun chatting with you!!
(My PC is supposedly gonna be ready by the end of the day today... I'm hoping I can have it up and running for a stream by this evening!)
