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When Theseus enters the dark, looming fortress that is the old castle, he is almost immediately greeted by the shifting silhouette of a beast.
This does not surprise him at all, of course— nor does it catch him off guard! Theseus’ mission, after all, is to slay this terrific creature and bring glory to his kingdom!
(The beautiful princess draped in red had aided him, her tone somber and eyes distant. She’d told him the location of the labyrinthine castle, crumbling and abandoned, in which the beast had been locked away for the rest of its miserable days.
“My father initially thought it best to leave it alone and forgotten— but something spurred him to feed it anyways,” she had said.
Theseus knew there was something she was not telling him— something about the way her voice cracked on the word ‘it’— but he decided against prying into it any further.)
Fear would simply be absurd; a fool’s notion— and Theseus is most certainly not a fool.
He does not jump back, and he most definitely does not let out any girlish screams as he draws his sword. Rather, keeping a rational head about him, Theseus swishes his long, gorgeous locks of blond hair behind him and stares up at the figure who has already established itself as his foe!!
“Avast, beast!” he cries out, keeping a safe distance from what has just emerged from the darkness. The figure is imposing— almost twice Theseus’ height— but, he hopes, it isn’t anything he cannot handle!
Below its shoulders, it could simply be mistaken for a man, if one did not take note of its bovine head! Theseus stares in disbelief at the fur that gradually fades into brown flesh— stares at the rippling muscles it makes no attempt to hide!!! Of course, that is all just out of admiration for such an impeccable form— Theseus most certainly does not pay any mind to how its dirty loincloth does little to disguise anything…
…Ah. Theseus, embarrassed, shakes himself out of his amazed stupor…but, most graciously, the beast has not begun to attack quite yet. Instead, it simply tilts its head at Theseus with a soft snort, staring at him with keen, deep brown eyes that are oddly human, somehow. It…considers him.
“You’re here to slay me, are you not?” it rumbles, voice rich and husky and like honey against Theseus’ ears. He could likely list many more apt adjectives, but it would take up a considerably longer amount of time.
Theseus owes his foe honesty, above all else! “Indeed,” he responds, “for I am here to seek vengeance against all of my brethren which you have devoured— the poor Athenian youths!”
The beast slumps a little bit, as if something has begun to weigh down upon its shoulders. “Ah,” is all it says for a brief moment, and then— “I did not want to hurt them, I promise you that— but I have been cursed with a most terrible hunger that takes hold over my mind.”
Theseus blinks. A man’s mind within the form of a monster? Would the gods deign to be so cruel? “I do not wish to disregard your claims— but, foul wretch, how can I be expected to believe you?”
“You cannot. I have nothing to give you but my word.” With that, the beast turns away on its stupendous legs. “I must ask you to leave, honorable one, for I do not want to cause any more harm than I already have.”
Theseus narrows his eyes. He wishes to think himself a humble man, sometimes, but even he cannot allow an insult such as this!!
“You doubt my capabilities, beast?” he cries out, clutching a hand to his heart to show the extent of his sorrow— nay, his agonies! “You believe I could not best you— that I could not end your torment, once and for all?!”
“No— no, no!” The beast quickly backtracks, shaking its wonderfully-sculpted hands frantically. “That is not what I meant at all. I simply just want to avoid any possibilities of further slaughter at my hands.”
Theseus, however, cannot be fooled by pitiful excuses such as these! If he must prove to this extremely well-toned beast that he is worthy of giving it a noble death, then so be it!
“Have at ye!!!” he yells, charging forward (The beast winces— but surely Theseus is not that loud!). Caught entirely off guard, the creature lets out a small yelp as it crashes to the stone floor, taking Theseus with it.
“Mmph,” says Theseus, and it is only a moment before he realizes that his face is buried in something warm and sturdy. He looks up to investigate— but, O, to his horror, that something appears to be the beast’s bare chest!!!
Theseus flushes— a bright red color, he must imagine. “My apologies,” he says, though his body makes seemingly no attempt to remove itself from the beast’s own. Something about continuing to be wrapped in those huge, beefy arms is very enticing.
“You look extremely red,” the beast (whom Theseus was planning on murdering in cold blood, he reminds himself) says, human eyes wide with concern. “Are you sure you are alright?”
Quite alright, thank you very much, is what Theseus wants to say, but it comes out his mouth rather like “I think I might be in love with you!!!”
Theseus quickly slaps a hand over his treacherous mouth— but, alas, the damage is already done! What must he have done for Aphrodite to put such a random, inopportune curse on him— for it must be her…there is clearly no other possible explanation for this!! O, how cruel must the Fates be to weave a tale of Theseus’ mouth being overtaken by forces he cannot comprehend!
The beast blinks in utter confusion. “Uh,” it says, quite eloquently, “are you s—“
It never gets to finish its sentence, however, because Theseus is suddenly launched backward by a magical wave that swells up and shrouds the beast entirely!! Where it came from, he has quite possibly no idea at all!
In the tide, something is shifting and changing— changing like in the tales Theseus has heard of human beings becoming trees, birds, and swine— but it cannot be made out clearly.
Once the mystical wave has finally quelled and disappeared back into the thin air from whence it came, there is no sign of the beast— rather, an almost entirely unfamiliar man sits in its place! His features are strong, his skin brown, his curls black, and his eyes—
Wait a moment.
Theseus knows those eyes…
…and, surely, Theseus could recognize those muscles anywhere!!!
“Noble beast!!” Theseus yells enthusiastically, clapping the man on the shoulder with the strength of a thousand Spartan soldiers. “Er—! I mean, uh, Prince—“
“—Asterius,” the man winces— possibly from eardrum damage, or possibly from a stinging shoulder. His voice is less deep— now a cadence more appropriate for a human man. “Just Asterius is fine, sire.”
“Call me Theseus!!!” Theseus says, feeling extremely hyped up— and unable to control his own actions, somewhat. “By the gods, have I broken your curse, noble opponent?!”
“Yes, I do think so.” Asterius looks pensive. His majestic horns, quite unfortunately, have not seemed to survive the transformation. “It was…perhaps a bit anticlimactic, though, I must admit. Very quick.”
“Well, that’s good, isn’t it, my friend? Sooner rather than later!!”
“…That is true.”
“As compensation, I believe it is only fair to hold me in those strong, ripped, impeccable arms of yours, friend Asterius!!!”
“Theseus, you have turned red once again.”
“…Have I?”