She burned bridges and committed crimes against her own family in the name of his pursuits.
When they arrived back in his homeland, they had two sons, and then he left her for the young local princess to improve his social status.
Her crimes were crimes of passion, and crimes of passion come not from calculation but from reactivity to provocation.
What I found was a woman afflicted with landlessness, cut off from her family, a woman whose strengths were exploited, who fought her partner’s battles, used her skills, and then was discarded.
At this point in the narrative she senses the threat of breaking with it within herself.
I see this drama playing itself out over and over again in contemporary culture, in narratives of possession, in the coding of social contracts, and in the stretching or acceptance of that coding.
If she is a victim, it is of hysteria; otherwise, she is just a monster, and this makes it impossible for us to see her any other way.
But she was also an immigrant, a warrior, and the gatekeeper who helped Jason win his famed and celebrated conquest.
She is already more in touch with the natural world as a sorceress, and turns to that aspect of herself in refuge, but for the strength to do what she foresees as inevitable—ending the potential future of her offspring (in this case, ending pregnancy).
Like the women in witch stories, being shunned, rejected, or convicted lead her to contemplate criminality.