Xanthe

“Do you not want all the gold the world has to offer?” He asked.

 

 

 

 

Xanthe turned her head with a shy giggle letting her golden waves crest over her bare shoulder. “Areius, I don’t need any gold. I only need you. You are my treasure.”

 

 

 

 

Slipping his hands through her hair he kissed her lightly on the lips. “Let me. Let me spoil you with more than my kisses.”

 

 

 

 

“Why should I want to spoil? Is not the grape sweeter when it is ripe? Is the rose not grander before cut from the vine?”

 

 

 

 

Areius was lost in her amber eyes. The color of gold. Everything about her was as precious as that metal. Even her shining soul.

 

 

 

 

Xanthe pulled Areius’ fingers delicately into her hands. “I fear that the Golden Fleece has put fancies in your head, my love. The day you returned with Jason I was given more than I could ever want for.”

 

 

 

 

“But you deserve it.”

 

 

 

 

She placed a finger to his lips. He kissed it and held her gaze while she spoke. “I deserve you.”

“Medea has promised me a way.”

 

 

 

 

Xanthe drew her hands back. “She is a witch. You cannot trust her.”

 

 

 

 

“She helped us capture the Fleece,” he explained. “She would not trick me.”

 

 

 

 

After giving him a long look, she frowned. “Promise me you will give up this dream. Am I not enough for you?”

 

 

 

 

“You are,” he said in a low voice brushing away her golden hair before kissing her once more.

While he had not argued there in her arms, Areius was not convinced that Xanthe didn’t deserve all the gold in the world. When he had laid eyes upon the ram with the golden wool his heart had ceased to beat for a moment. He could think of nothing but his beloved. How his heart had missed her that day. Before he had taken the journey with Jason and the other Argonauts he had not known the grip Xanthe’s love had taken inside him. With the distance and time between them though he knew he wanted to give her everything. She deserved everything.

Against his beloved’s wishes he met with Medea.

 

 

 

 

“Gold?” The young witch eyed him.

 

 

 

 

“Yes, please. All the gold in the world.”

 

 

 

 

“Is Xanthe’s love not enough for you?” Medea narrowed her eyes. She knew first hand that love was never enough for any man.

 

 

 

 

“It is,” he said.

 

 

 

 

His sincere brown eyes made her sad. “Then why do you want this?”

 

 

 

 

“For her.”

 

 

 

 

“Does she not love you? Maybe you should consult Aphrodite or perhaps Eros.”

 

 

 

 

“Can you do it?”

 

 

 

 

Medea licked her bottom lip then clicked her tongue. “Anything for love.”

 

 

 

 

Areius thanked the beautiful witch and hurried back to find Xanthne. Medea had told him she would already be with her treasure. He climbed the small hill where they met each afternoon under an old cypress tree. Upon arriving, he could not see his beloved. She was never late. Not once and not even when had been to sea sailing on the Argos, for she had told him the story of how she met there every day sending him blessings on the breeze.

 

 

 

 

As he turned to find her, something shining on the other side of the hill caught his eye. It was Xanthe. He rushed to her.

 

 

 

 

“I only wanted you,” her breath was labored. She struggled to even blink.

 

 

 

 

“No,” Areius said scooping her into his arms as gold flaked off in perfect circles around her body. He noticed a pile under her swayed back. He stroked her stiff hair and it broke into pieces in his hands. It was pure gold now, like her fingers and her neck and even her sparkling eyes. “I love you," he pleaded as if the words could undo the witch's magic.

 

 

 

 

Xanthe never answered Areius. Immortalized in the desires of her lover she passed away in his arms. Legend says her saddened spirit returned to prey on the greedy. Many believe King Midus may have been her first victim.

 

 

Done