#Perseus and Andromeda

[haliaiii]

Percy and Annabeth except they’re Perseus and Andromeda

[thebeautifulbook]

TALES OF TROY AND GREECE by Andrew Lang (London: Longmans, Green, 1907). 17 illustrations by Henry Justice Ford.

source

[jacobpking]

Perseus and Andromeda In a lot of classical artwork, I always see Andromeda depicted as white/greek, and since she's the Princess of Aethiopia, I wanted to try and make a more authentic, historically accurate depiction. I hope you enjoy! In other words: She's everything, he's just Perseus. (Nah jk, Perseus is a really solid dude overall, I just had to make the reference)

[sarafangirlart]

Archaic Medusa

Got tired of seeing Medusa designed as a generic pretty woman but with snake hair. Also made a little height chart.

[softlytowardthesun]

I’m thinking about Danaë, Perseus, and Andromeda.

Danaë was a princess, once. Her happy life was upended the day her father caught wind of a prophecy that his grandchild would be his undoing. She was imprisoned in her own home, and when her son was born, she and the baby were banished and left for dead. Yet Danaë powered through, as heroes are known to do in these types of stories. This single mother in a strange land raised her son with pride — not hubris, but true, righteous pride. They have no need of gods or monsters or the kingdom that cast them out; all mother and son need are each other.

Perseus’s call to adventure begins when yet another evil king decides to treat Danaë as an object instead of a person. Polydectes will force Danaë to marry him unless Perseus can cross the world and return with the head of the Gorgon Medusa. Perseus is in no place to protest, not when the truest hero he’s ever known is counting on him. This is not a quest for glory, but piety: the duty a child owes to their parent.

In his travels, Perseus meets Andromeda, chained to a cliffside and awaiting her grim fate. She too, has a story of a mother and child. Queen Cassiopeia foolishly offended a long list of sea gods and their kingdom will be washed away unless the gods exact their price. Cassiopeia did the offending; it should be her on the cliff. But Andromeda has to suffer for the sins of her family, just like Perseus. He chose to risk his life for his mother; Andromeda had her fate chosen for her.

Maybe Andromeda tried to talk herself into thinking her death would mean something. She’s grown up as a princess, where each generation of the dynasty is meant to be in unbroken continuity with the generation before. The crown she is presumed to wear weighs down any hopes for her own life. If Cassiopeia tells her to die, it is her duty and honor as the child to obey. Secretly, she prays that her death will mean something for her mother — that the next child she has will be granted the freedom of choice Andromeda herself never knew.

But Perseus, raised by a mother worthy of her role, knows that is bullshit. He knows Andromeda deserves better than this, and he breaks the cycle by destroying the monster and breaking her chains, will of Poseidon be damned. And when Cassiopeia reunites with her child, it’s clear she has learned nothing. She immediately tries to force Andromeda into an unhappy marriage - just like what Polydectes means to do to Danaë.

Now Andromeda and Perseus are both angry. She is ready to let her so-called family crumble. She shields her eyes, and lets her suitor and her mother meet the Gorgon’s eyes. She walks away from the stone to which she was chained, into a new life of her making.

The young couple returns to Seriphos. Perseus saves Danaë from the dread altar. A worthy king claims the throne, and in a remarkable stroke of luck for Greek mythology, Perseus kills his evil grandfather without technically violating Ancient Greece’s taboos on kin-slaying. Andromeda and Perseus ascend to the throne of Mycenae, and have that rarest thing in any myth: a happily ever after.

Andromeda gets a husband and a crown, sure, but she also gets Danaë. Danaë is everything Cassiopeia wasn’t: humble, resilient, and loving. She raised Perseus well, and she teaches Andromeda how to stand tall against monsters: not the sea beast, but the creatures that would rather offer up their own children than admit that they were in the wrong.

[escapismsworld]

Perseus and Andromeda

Joseph Chinard 🇫🇷

1791

[un-revenant]

Perseus and Andromeda

Frederic Leighton, 1891 oil on canvas

[gemsofgreece]

Hey quick question princess andromeda from the myth with Persus is from Ethiopia ? But then how come in paintings she is white ?

Quick question, long answer. Yes and no. It’s a little confusing. There are several parameters to this.

Aethiopia, an etymologically Greek name, is the name different Greeks gave to different places of the world. In the classical era (440 BCE), Herodotus called all the area south of the Sahara and the Nile as Aethiopia, making thus the most relevant description. Pindar however, a contemporary of his (~450 BCE), calls Aethiopia the region around Elam (Southwest Iran). Same as Hesiod, who did that in 700 BCE already. In ~500 BCE, both Scylax of Caryanda and Hecataeus of Miletus seem to agree Aethiopia is east of the Nile and expands throughout the Arabian peninsula all the way to the Indus Valley and the Indian Ocean. The first mention of Aethiopians is by Homer (~800 BC) who vaguely says that they lived in the extremities of the world, in the far east and west.

So as you see, the earlier back in time, the more generic and distant the term’s meaning is. Herodotus is likely the one who seals the association of Aethiopia with only sub-Saharan Africa and the country south of Egypt in particular.

The origins of Greek mythology precede all these writers. In general many historians suggest that the Aethiopia of the myth of Perseus and Andromeda was supposed to be in west Asia and perhaps somewhere around Israel and Palestine. Some believe it is Jaffa, Tel Aviv in particular. I am not totally sold on the explanations why. The point is however that Aethiopia’s geographical definition especially before Herodotus and even more before Hesiod was very vague and fluid. It seems it described places that in general were too hard for Greeks to reach, exotic.

The name itself can help us understand. Aethiopian means the one who looks burnt, smoked. From αίθω (aétho - burn) and όψη (ópsi - look, face). Now, this sounds low-key horrible in English but in Greek it’s not derogatory, but I have no better way to explain it. Ancient Greeks had written quite a few times about the attractiveness of the Aethiopians (whoever they were) so they didn’t associate the term with a repulsiveness like that of burnt flesh but just as the effect of the sun on their complexion.

In short, at least prior to Herodotus, Aethiopia was all the land inhabited by POC, even if that included large parts of Africa and Asia all the way to India. It did not include Libya (North Africa) and Egypt. This was not so much due to skintone (although it could be too - as North Africans can be way more white passing than people far from here believe) but because Greeks were well aware of these regions. Aethiopia was associated with exotic, distant places with darker people. This could be black people and brown people and all their various tones. Perhaps simply anyone who was noticeably darker than a Greek.

Now if we compare Jaffa (Andromeda’s Aethiopia) with modern day Israel or Palestine, then Andromeda and her parents could be medium brown or light brown or white / white passing.

However, I seriously doubt Ancient Greek art was concerned about skintone accuracy, simply because it was art made by Greeks and viewed by other Greeks. Everyone depicted usually followed the Greek standards of beauty. Besides, it’s a Greek myth, right? If we wonder about Andromeda’s complexion, then we should also wonder about her name! And her mother’s name! Why are they Greek? Well, simply, because it’s Greek mythology, which provides a genealogy where all progenitors are kin to Greek progenitors. Cepheus, Andromeda’s father, is brother of Danaus and has Argive ancestry (since this is a myth from Argos!). So if that’s true, Andromeda has Greek ancestry and might be white-passing because of that. But these is just exhaustive and in my opinion unnecessary nitpicking.

In Ancient Greek art complexion is almost always not depicted accurately but men are usually depicted as dark and women as fair because this was the beauty standard.

No this doesn’t mean Perseus was black and Andromeda white! It only shows the beauty standards of the time. Corinthian vase. Archaic period.

Andromeda, Perseus and Cepheus. Apulian vase, Classical Period. All look white or white passing.

Here although the skintone is the same, the artist makes Perseus blonde in order to stress Andromeda’s darkness through the haircolour. Zeugma, Roman period.

And… look at that!

In this ‘mildly’ racist art, Andromeda is depicted as a dude as the tall white-passing person in the middle and she is getting tied for the beast by fellow Aethiopians who however look nothing like her. They are shorter and clearly African. Andromeda wears Phrygian, thus non-African clothing, but also nothing like the Greek clothing. This artist wanted to provide some diversity but apparently not for the beautiful princess lol Attic vase, probably Classical period.

Anyway so, Andromeda was either brown or black or white passing at most, because of Jaffa and the argive ancestry. Once Aethiopia - Ethiopia’s location had become more specific though, western artists depicting Andromeda as pretty fair of skin or blonde is misrepresentation with questionable motives. My opinion is that there is a wide range of looks Andromeda can be depicted to have, but not something that makes her look whiter or even just as white as Perseus.

[zipadeea]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians (TV 2023) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Annabeth Chase & Poseidon (Percy Jackson), Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase & Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase & Frederick Chase Characters: Annabeth Chase (Percy Jackson), Poseidon (Percy Jackson), Percy Jackson, Frederick Chase, Matthew Chase, Bobby Chase, Annabeth's Stepmom, whom i've named kara?, lol idk her name or if she ever gets one, Ariel (Disney) Additional Tags: Family, Family Feels, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Grief/Mourning, Love, how annabeth learns to live in the moment, and stop worrying so much about the future, pt. one, of many, Disney World & Disneyland, Disney References, Spoilers, Spoilers for the book series, probably turn away if you've only seen the show, but also you should watch the show before you read this, or some of the setup will not make sense lol Summary:

“Just be a kid,” Annabeth muttered to herself as she dragged Bobby through the crowds of Fantasyland by his small, sweating hand. “Just be a kid, he said.”

“Annabeth, who are you talking to?” Bobby asked sweetly, his other hand holding a lollipop bigger than his head. “Are we almost to Ariel?”

“Gods, I hope so."

***

Annabeth goes to Disney World. She meets someone unexpected once she gets there.

[stupendousgentlemendreamland]

and now

for the

MILLION DOLLAR QUESTION

[artthatgivesmefeelings]

Joseph Chinard (French, 1756-1813) Perseus Freeing Andromeda, 1791 Musée des Beaux Arts, Lyon

[thelonelylemonsquare]

The Ethiopian princess Andromeda from ancient mythology and her husband Perseus

[christreginlave]

Andromeda, tied to the rock, watching as the sea-monsters approaches on the left in top left corner, Perseus arriving at her rescue. c.1734 Etching and engraving

© The Trustees of the British Museum

[sarafangirlart]

Medusa retellings demonizing Perseus for literally no reason like why would you purposefully make your antagonist a flat evil character as if he wasn’t trying to save his mom from being assaulted? Wouldn’t it be tragic for Perseus (who was only ever a fisherman not a warrior) seeing Medusa for the first time and seeing her humanity, her vulnerability, how she hides herself from the society that shunned her and he starts to become conflicted, if he doesn’t kill her, his mother will become a victim of an evil king, but if he does kill her, he kills a victim.

Do y’all not see that juicy tragedy and angst? Do you not see the potential???

[lilithlikesart]

Frederic Leighton, 1st Baron Leighton - Perseus and Andromeda, 1891, Walker Art Gallery, Liverpool, UK.

[starfall-spirit]

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Summary: An irksome trip to the Summer Court on matters of business and assistance against a threat at sea takes an interesting turn when Rhys discovers the solution to Nostrus' problem no longer lies with his army, but a female sacrifice, bound at high tide in hope of appeasing the beast terrorizing Nostrus' shores. He certainly never predicted the rescue mission would result in an accepted mating bond.

AN: This strep throat and eye infection is kicking my ass, so I thought I’d give us all something special today.

At least I get a snow day from work, so, that’s an upside.

Chapter III: What I Claim

Feyre

Feyre truly tried to resist the pull. But then that wasn't so easy when she woke up wrapped in the safety of her mate's arms, his long fingers running through her hair from her roots all the way down to her tangled ends. She groaned as his nails softly scraped over her scalp, instinctively nuzzling against him. "Good morning, darling. Sleep well?"

"Like a rock," she murmured. She didn't think she'd ever felt a softer mattress. "You have a very sexy morning voice." She froze as he chuckled. What the hell had just come out of her mouth? "I don't have much of a filter before breakfast," she stuttered, blushing brightly and keeping her face buried in his neck.

"Interesting," he purred. "I wonder how much trouble that's going to get you into." She sucked in a breath, itching to explore the promise beneath his jesting.

Hesitation? Hesitation was not the feeling fluttering around inside of her now. Rhys shifted enough that the silk sheets over them yielded to gravity's drag, exposing the entirety of his upper body as he took her in in equal measure. Tattooed, golden-brown skin fit over trained muscle. It was entirely unfair that her mate looked like some divine being every hour of the day and she was just—

"What did I ever do to deserve a female like you? What did I do to deserved someone so fucking perfect?"

"Perfect?" She scoffed. Elain was perfect. Nesta was too in her own strange way. Feyre was the youngest daughter and the greatest nuisance. The wild one, if you listened to the whispers. Not quite groomed correctly when there were two perfect daughters before her. Useful, yes. But no one had thought her perfect. "Your biased regardless. I'm not the girl people want to—"

"I told you, Feyre, here you are not a showpiece. Not a showpiece or a puppet or a pawn. You are mine."

His. She could get used to hearing that.

"Do you know what it means to belong to the Heir of Night?" he crooned into her mind.

She didn't know, but she wanted to. Desperately. "What does it mean?"

He grinned fiendishly, tracing his nose against her fluttering pulse. What would it feel like to have his mouth there instead? To have the heavy weight of him above her, his hand threaded in her hair while the other slipped past her waistband. "It means, darling, that you set the standard of perfection. And if your subjects choose not to meet it then I will enjoy ending their miserable existence early."

She gnawed at her lip, letting that vow settle in her mind before she spoke again. The vulgarity of the oath should disturb her and yet she was feeling something on the opposite spectrum at the moment. "You certainly have a high opinion of your authority here," she remarked cautiously.

"Some say the only limit to one's power is their moral compass. I say the heart of the matter more often lies in their fear. You will get nowhere in life if you can not first claim what you know belongs to you." She swallowed the startled sound that tried to break free when Rhys lifted her by the hips, flipping their position so he leaned back against the headboard, hands anchored to her waistline. One shift forward and she'd be able to feel what was waiting for her after they accepted the mating bond. "You don't want to be a puppet, but you haven't chosen the freedom you're due. Tell me something, Feyre. Tell me what belongs to you."

Dozens of things belonged to Feyre. Hundreds, even, if she counted every book and knickknack and trinket she had at her parents' residence. And yet, if you asked anyone what the law said, those things were her father's belongings, not that Feyre could pretend that's what her mate was asking her now. "What do you claim for yourself?"

"What do I claim?" He raised a brow, waiting for her to make her choice. Are you bold enough, that little twitch asked. She swallowed, holding his eyes. His hands hadn't moved an inch up or down, but as she'd softened to him he’d begun to trace his fingers in slow, soothing circles at the small of her back. “I claim…” Feyre leaned forward, resting her forearms on his shoulders. “I claim my life. I claim my power.” Another centimeter and their noses would brush. “I claim what was born to me, what was given, what I deserve to take. I claim my future.”

Those final unspoken words lingered on her tongue, taunting them both. The next time her lips parted those words ebbed away, interrupted by a harsh knock against the door. “Hey, lovebirds, save it for the cabin. We’re still having a girls’ breakfast.”

Ducking her head, Feyre smiled. “Give me a minute. I’ll be right out,” she called.

“You’d better.”

Once Avy’s footsteps faded, Feyre turned back to her mate, cocking her head slightly. “Cabin?”

He grimaced, twirling a lock of her hair between his fingers. “It’s better for newly-mated couples to remain isolated if they can. At least until the frenzy fades. How I reacted with Nostrus, well, that wasn’t the worst of the protective nature that will start showing soon when it comes to you. If you aren’t ready for that—the frenzy—I understand.”

It would be difficult, but he’d wait for her. She smiled, leaning in one last time to kiss him. Her decision was made and they both knew it.

She tried not to lose herself in it. But it would be so easy to become entirely unmorred in the ecstasy of it. The touch of his lips, his hand coming up to her face as the other tightened around her hip. The low groan that left him sent a shiver down her spine. One kiss and she could undo the male beneath her. It was positively heady. She never wanted to pull away. Never wanted to feel anything beyond the heat of his body under hers. The slant of his lips, soft, yet sure. It was a claiming in its own way. One minute longer and she’d never make it downstairs.

“Rhys,” she breathed.

“Hm?”

“Breakfast. Downstairs.”

“Hm.”

He kissed her again.

“Your mother is waiting. I really don’t think we’re on close enough terms for me to comfortably explain my tardiness yet. And your sister would take far too much pleasure in teasing me, I’m sure.”

He pulled back with an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. Two hours, then you're mine.”

Giving him one last peck, she smiled. “Deal.”

~~~~~

“Sorry I’m late. I was…” Feyre cleared her throat, sitting. “Sorry.”

“You must be Feyre!” Looking away from Victorie, Feyre met the bright eyes and wide grin of a blonde female whose plate was already piled high with fruit and pastries. “I’m Mor,” she offered, already appearing just as bubbly and bright as Avyanna.

“She’s our cousin,” the younger girl offered. “The relation is distant, but we’re all very close.”

“I tend to pop in and out. Even if I’m not a resident of Hewn City anymore, I have to spend a lot of time there.”

“Hewn City. That’s the capital, isn’t it?”

“The capital and the inspiration of every horror story you grew up hearing about the big bad Night Court,” Avy confirmed, twirling her fork between her fingers. “You’re the only person from outside of Velaris to learn about it since… Well, since Mother did, I suppose.”

“This is hidden? I thought I had just forgotten some of my geography. How do you keep a place this big away from prying eyes?”

“Wards tied to the magic of the High Lords. My father’s and those before him. One day it will be Rhys’ duty as well. There is cruelty within our borders. That’s why protecting Velaris is so important. If we can keep one utopia…”

“I can understand that,” Feyre murmured. Because Velaris, she had a feeling, was everything she’d wished for as a girl. A place where she could do as Rhys suggested, reclaiming her own values beyond social expectations. Velaris was a fantasy. A sliver of paradise that suddenly made being a future High Lord’s mate seem like less of a burden. “I want to see it all. To learn. But first, I need to cut some ties.”

“No one can find you here, Feyre.”

She forced herself to smile at Victorie’s attempt to comfort her. But she had seen her parents' faces when they told her about the betrothal. Whatever was in play that tied her to Spring wasn’t going to be brushed under the rug. “Even if no one knows about Velaris, Nostrus already knows about the bond and it won’t be long before the news starts crossing borders. I won’t be seen as someone who hides from my problems. I have an opportunity to officially cut ties and I’m going to do so.”

“Before or after your mating ceremony?” Victorie asked. “You can still give yourself a safety net. There’s no shame in that.”

“I know. I didn’t realize there would be an actual ceremony. I thought it was just…”

“Just the bond acceptance? Some couples prefer things that way. We’re a bit more traditional. And honestly, the order of things doesn’t really matter in this day and age.” She gave Feyre a smirk that all but screamed I want grandchildren soon. “But this is something to celebrate, Feyre. Unless you have some aversion to a ceremony?” She shook her head slowly. “Excellent. Now, like I said last night. I want to hear everything about you.”

“Well…”

~~~~~

Rhysand

That evening Rhys was just settling in to relax when Feyre returned to their room. Though he had teased her with a two-hour limit, he saw the confusion in her eyes at his mother’s warm tone the night before. The hope there. She had needed that time to open herself to them and no matter how desperate he was to sweep her away and keep her to himself, he’d never forgive himself for holding her away from the simple things that could heal her.

“Hello, Feyre darling.”

She shut the door behind her, a wide smile on her face. “Hi.”

“Did you enjoy yourself today?”

“Even more than I expected to,” she confirmed, grabbing her clothes and slipping into the bathroom to change. “We talked for hours. Even after your mother left, your sister and cousin took me out into the city.” She was still smiling when she walked out of the bathroom. “The Rainbow… It was amazing.” He couldn’t help but frown a bit. “What? Was I supposed to stay inside? Or come back after breakfast?”

“No.” He took her hands, stopping her from wringing her fingers. “I was teasing about the two hour limit. I’m thrilled you enjoyed spending time with my family. I just… I was hoping to show you the Rainbow, is all,” he admitted sheepishly. “It’s okay. It’s not the end of the world and I sincerely doubt you saw everything anyways, so I’ll still have a few special hideouts to show you.”

She hesitated a moment, but didn’t try to apologize as she curled up in his lap. “How was your day?”

“A bit stressful,” he admitted. “My father’s in a mood since he can’t lecture me about my actions in Summer. He was in a similar boat with my mother.”

“He saved her?”

Rhys sighed. “Illyrians have some very backward customs regarding gender. Males are trained as warriors, females, to build and manage a home. They enforce that standard through wing-clipping. My father was visiting the camps when my mother was due to face hers. He misted the males holding her the moment the bond snapped. It’s the only reason she can fly these years later. When I take over, customs like that…”

He grimaced. His father was just on the other side of the house and he was speaking like he had the power to fix the bastard’s mistakes. “There’s nothing wrong with planning your method of leadership, Rhys. Just because your father won’t hear you now doesn’t mean your beliefs will never hold power.”

He pressed a kiss to her hair. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

She preened, snuggling closer, to his amusement. “How amazing?”

“Extraordinary,” he whispered in her ear. “You are extraordinary.”

And all his.

~~~~~

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