Jun 30
for @morgwenmicrofic | mythology | 4169 words on ao3
There is a story Gwen used to hear about a boy who flew too close to the sun.
He was enamored by it— ensnared by its brilliance and delighted with its beauty. He wanted to hold it in his hands, feel its heat on his skin. He wanted, and with wings of wax, he chased it.
The sun melted the wax. The boy fell and did not get back up. So it goes.
Gwen never understood the boy. Shouldn’t he have known better? The sun’s heat was always going to be destructive. The wax was always going to melt. So why swoop so close? Why reach for something he could never have?
She didn’t understand then, but she understands now.
