favourite faces for favourite mythic ladies: Deidamia with Sophie Turner
Deidamia had been so young when Golden Pyrrha had been brought to Scyros, and from that very first day she’d been enamoured. There were secrets about Phyrra, and each day the two spent close together made Deidamia long for answers all the more.
On a night slipped free from the palace and with their laughter ringing out as they ran, the two tumbled together in the vineyards and the golden girl told her secret. Achilles. Deidamia’s tongue found bite in the name.
A week more before they kissed. A month more before they lay together, Deidamia having to put her hand over Achilles’ mouth for fear he’d wake the household. Ten months more brought them a child and Deidamia, smiling, had called him Pyrrhus. A name good enough for father was good enough for son.
Two more months they had together before Odysseus took Achilles away, and Deidamia wept and clutched at him and begged him to stay. Please, my love!
(Only when Deidamia is older will she learn that ‘love’ had never been the right word. After she has watched each of her sisters marry, and watched her son grow into a man who would go off to his father’s war and return to give her away as a nothing more than spoil. She understands then that, in youth, she’d never known what true love meant, not until she had suffered grief and loss and living.)
With a heart that felt cleft in two, Deidamia watched Achilles’ ship until it was gone from view. With babe in her arms she sat down heavily on the floor and curled herself around him, praying for the gods to return her that golden girl.