And there on the house’s threshold, sudden as lightning-strike, stood Thetis. Her hair shone black against the white marble of the palace. Her dress was dark, the colour of an uneasy ocean, bruising purples mixed with churning greys. Somewhere beside her there were guards, and Peleus too, but I did not look at them. I saw only her, and the curved knife’s blade of her jaw.
The song of Achilles - Madeline Miller, pg. 103
Its king, Peleus, was one of those men whom the gods love: not divine himself, but clever, brace, handsome, and excelling all his peers in piety. As a reward, our divinities offered him a sea-nymph for a wife. It was considered their highest honour. After all, what mortal would not want to bed a goddess and sire a son from her? Divine blood purified our muddy race, bred heroes from dust and clay. … But, like the gods’ gifts, there was an edge to it; the goddess herself was unwilling.
The song of Achilles - Madeline Miller