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HOMER: Welcome back, traveler. Please, take a seat, we have much to discuss today. I know it has been some time since last we left, however I can promise you not much has occurred in our story. Athena continues to hope for Arachne to come to talk and Arachne, well… Perhaps it’s better if we let Arachne speak for herself. She’s flittering around her house as we speak, talking to herself as she so often does.

ARACHNE: I don’t know why you’re even considering it. I don’t know why! Sure, he hasn’t been pushy about it and has given you your space, but he also turned you into a spider for over a year! And yeah, he was trying to figure out how to change you back but that certainly didn’t stop him from going through his own transition! Not that I would want anyone to stop their gender discovery– it’s not the point! The point is, it’s not worth going to talk to him and I don’t know why I’m considering it. There’s no reason to consider it. 

But still, here I am, considering it. 

This would be so much easier if he was less apologetic about it! I mean, seriously, why did he have to be so apologetic? I don’t forgive him, but it makes me want to hear what he has to say and I don’t want to want that. I just want to forget he existed and move on with my life but I can’t because what if he has a real apology? What if he has an explanation and what if he deserves the forgiveness I don’t want to give? But that’s a stupid thing to think! Because I don’t owe him anything, least of all forgiveness for turning me into an insect for an entire year and I just. I don’t need this. I don’t need to do anything. I won’t do anything. (pause) But hearing him out could stop me from pacing around the house talking to myself like this every day. Yeah. Yeah, that’s it. I’ll go and I’ll talk to him but not for him; for me. So I can truly put this whole thing behind me and never have to think about it or Athena ever again. 

HOMER: Filled with a new determination, Arachne marched to Athena’s house, barely resisting the urge to bang on the door.

ATHENA: Gods, just hold on, I– Oh. OH! Hi, Arachne, I wasn’t expecting to see you. Come in, please, come in, I was just tidying up a bit. I, um. What brings you by today?

ARACHNE: Are you really going to pretend that you don’t know why I’m here?

ATHENA: (genuinely confused) I mean… I don’t know why you’re here? There are plenty of reasons you could be here, from wanting to cuss me out to wanting a favor to–

ARACHNE: You told me to consider talking to you. I considered, and now I’m here. So talk.

ATHENA: Oh! Well, um… (paper unfolding)

ARACHNE: Did you… Did you write a script?

ATHENA: (distracted) Hm? (realizing what was said) No! No, of course not, these are just- they’re just notes! I have a lot to get through so I don’t want to forget anything. 

ARACHNE: You’re taking this really seriously, huh?

ATHENA: It’s a serious topic.

HOMER: There was a fondness in Arachne’s words; it crept in without her realizing and by the time she noticed, it was far too late to take it back. 

ARACHNE: Well then, o god of wisdom. Regale me with your list.

ATHENA: The most important thing to say is that I’m sorry. I let my jealousy and anger get the better of me and you paid the price for that. It wasn’t your fault that you were the better weaver– probably still are, all things considered. You had a talent and a grace that I didn’t and it just… I shouldn’t have done what I did. I should never have allowed you to bear the force of my self-loathing. And once I had realized what I had done, I never should’ve let you stay that way for as long as you did.

ARACHNE: Hestia said you didn’t know how to fix it.

ATHENA: I didn’t. But that didn’t mean I should’ve just left you out in nature to fend for yourself, that wasn’t fair to you. There was no reason you couldn’t have gone home–

ARACHNE: I didn’t want to.

ATHENA: What?

ARACHNE: Come on, Thena, did you really think I stayed out there because I didn’t know how to get home? I knew the way back, I just… I don’t know. Part of me was worried about becoming a stranger in my own home; it could’ve been sold, or destroyed or any number of things and I didn’t want to face that. And I didn’t want to be so small in such a big house, not recognizing it as my own even if it was still there. You didn’t leave me out there– well you did, but it’s not the reason I was out there for a year. I just couldn’t face going home. 

HOMER: The look that passed between Arachne and Athena is difficult to describe. There was an air of understanding to it, like the two were seeing each other as they truly were for the first time. It’s possible, dear traveler, that they were seeing each other for the first time. No walls, no magic, no anger clouding their judgement. Just two people, connected by more than malice, taking a leap off an unknown cliff towards forgiveness.

ATHENA: I should’ve come to find you sooner. Even if I didn’t know how to fix it, I could’ve told you that. The fact that I didn’t was pure cowardice on my part; I couldn’t face you knowing that I had so greatly destroyed your life. 

ARACHNE: Why did you take care of my house? And yes, I know it wasn’t you, it was Hestia, but you still asked her to. Why?

ATHENA: It was the least I could do while I was looking for a solution. Circe and Hecate were as helpful as they could be, but it was still a long process. I didn’t want you to not have a place to return to when things were fixed.

ARACHNE: (surprised, but pleased) You really are sorry, aren’t you? 

ATHENA: I really really am. And whatever it takes to prove that to you–

ARACHNE: I forgive you.

ATHENA: –I’m willing to– you what?

ARACHNE: I forgive you. I didn’t expect to. Honestly, I was mostly coming here so I could put this entire thing behind me but… I don’t know. There’s something about you, Athena, and the way you speak, the way you care– I didn’t expect it, especially after our last meeting. Maybe you don’t deserve my forgiveness, but I don’t care anymore; you’ve earned it. And I’m trusting you not to waste that.

ATHENA: I-I won’t. Thank you, Arachne. I didn’t… When I asked you to hear me out, it wasn’t so I could get forgiveness, it was so I could apologize. The fact that you’re forgiving me at all is… Words can’t express what this means to me.

HOMER: It is here that I will draw you away from this story and usher you back towards Calliope’s faithful care. I cannot wait for you to join me by the fire again, traveler. Until next time, and as always, thank you for listening.