Chapter Eight.....Monster-In-Law (continued)
"Don't." it was said sharply from behind them and Triantifilla's eyes shifted to the door. Her lips curved upward in
her beautiful face. "Don't touch him." Andromache repeated sharply from where she stood. Looking very much
like her mother, all tall, lean threat and anger. Triantifilla shifted the hand she'd been starting to lift. Flexed the
fingers.
"Why not?" she purred.
"Because I'll kill you." her daughter answered matter of factly.
Hector didn't move, but his eyes cut to the door where Andromache was. He had been waiting for Triantifilla to
raise a hand to him, or try at any rate. Then he looked back at his mother in law and quirked an eyebrow at her.
"Looks like you've lost most of your power." He commented flatly to her before he took a half step away from her,
still watching her hands for a sudden move.
Then he looked at his wife with a far softer look than the one he had directed at her mother.
"Everything's fine." He said to her. "We're just getting to know each other, that's all."
The fear moved through Andromache's eyes and it was raw as she moved to her husband's side. Intentionally
putting herself within arms' range of her mother. Hoping she was a better target. She knew what Triantifilla coated
the tips of her nails with. Or what she had. It had gotten stronger, more dangerous and potent as she'd gotten
older. As Andromache's body had gotten used to it and needed a stronger dosage to cripple her for those days
on end. She wasn't about to risk what her mother might have intensified and added to while she'd been away.
Not on the man she loved.
She intentionally moved into Hector now, pressing close. Wishing he was anywhere, anywhere in the world, but
here. In her mother's rooms. Seeing - all the things she'd never wanted him to see. Never wanted him to know
about. She'd never thought she'd be ashamed in front of him before.
"Your prince is a most interesting man." her mother stated, voice silky. "I'm surprised you ended up with someone
so handsome. He must have chosen you for your... efficient personality. You must run the stores of Troy very
effectively." Andromache took the blows in her heart. Where her mother knew to strike to hurt her the most.
Triantifilla blinked calmly and added:
"He reminds me of my own son." Watched the anger flash into her daughter's eyes and knew the insult had hit
home and was satisfied. Andromache raised her chin with its odd indentation that her mother had always found so
flawed, the younger woman's thin hands resting on the prince's chest.
"You've never met a man like Hector before, mother." Andromache's voice was steady and unblinking. Sure in a
way that bothered her mother. "And you'll never be able to out think him."
Hector pressed a kiss to Andromache's temple, never taking his eyes off her mother. "Let her think she can."
Hector said. "Let her think that if she tries to scratch me that I won't break her neck rather than be poisoned by a
coward of a woman. I think it amuses her."
As different as he and her brother were, they still had that ingrained self preservation that came with all men who
knew war and survived. He had seen the tips of her nails, she wouldn't be the first woman to try that trick in
history. And if her mother made him choose between his life or Andromache's life and her life, she would lose
each and every time and he wouldn't lose any sleep over it.
But as much as he knew Andromache knew that side of him was there, he didn't want her to witness it. Not first
hand.
"She does many things effectively and beautifully. Which is more than I can say for you." Hector said, not about to
let his wife take that insult silently. "Your power to intimidate people has ended. I'm not intimidated, I'm not afraid. I
see you for what you are, a bitter insane woman driven mad by the yearning to have things you don't. Things, I'm
sure, your daughter reminds you of every day now. She has a man who loves her, who would die and kill for her,
two cities that adore her, two families that love her, and the backing of the most powerful army in the east. For if
you take one threatening move toward either of us, I will rain down the archers of Troy on your head if for some
reason I don't survive. Not on Thebes. On you. And your husband will stand by and laugh with a cup of wine in his
hand. Sleep and fester on that, I don't care."
Triantifilla's face drained of color, going pale and stark. And the rage started sending fine tremors through her.
Her daughter didn't notice. Because Andromache had turned her face into Hector's throat. Safe with him. Safe
enough to turn her back on her own mother. To forget about her.
There wasn't a word for the strength of Hector's love for her and Andromache was warmed and humbled and
overwhelmed. She loved him. Fiercely and desperately and completely. He didn't have to be here. He didn't have
to face her mother or put himself in harm's way for her. This was Andromache's problem and a very, very old on
at that.
And yet he'd come here deliberately. Because of her. And the things he said...
No one had ever said those things to her mother. Or about Andromache either. She'd never realized how much
she had compared to Triantifilla before. Never seen it from the outside view and seen it so clearly. It made her
mother less of a witch in her dark tower to be feared and hated and made her...
made her more pitiable. For the first time in her life, Andromache felt pity for her mother and the life she'd chosen
to lead. And somehow - it made the pain ease in her chest.
"I love you." she murmured it against his skin. Surrounded by him and the safety of his presence. By his
understanding. The quiet sigh was completely his as a lifetime of heartache started to unravel.
Triantifilla's face contorted at that last insult. Her own daughter... turning her back to say those words... to a brute
of a man that invaded her sanctuary and said such - such vile things... There was no room for forgiveness or
understanding. Their time was long gone along with her youth and her happiness. She launched herself out of
the chair she'd been tossed into with a scream of anger and pain that sounded more animal than human, hands
clawed and reaching. Moving as smoothly and quickly as her own daughter could. And it was the daughter she
aimed for. Wanting to hurt them both and knowing what would.
Hector shoved Andromache away and put himself in the middle of the two women, catching her arms by the
forearms and twisting her wrists back. He'd been expecting it for a bit and wondered what took her so long.
"Andromache, get out of here." He said to his wife as he restrained her mother. "Hey, Mommy, I was wondering,
are you immune to your own poisons?" She was on the verge of scratching herself from the way Hector was
holding her. "I'd be interested to know. Andromache, I'm serious. Leave."
It was in her to refuse him. So - used to dealing with her mother on her own, that Andromache simply looked at
her husband for a moment. He could kill Triantifilla. It was easily in his power and he had reason enough as the
woman writhed in his grip as slippery and flexible as her much younger daughter. She'd never wished Triantifilla
dead before and she didn't know if it was because it had always simply seemed an impossible occurrence or
whether she really was that weak. But now her mother had her pity. And she didn't want that poisoned blood on
Hector's hands.
Spitting curses that only demons could answer, eyes dark with fury, Triantifilla twisted violently. Enough to do
herself harm. And Andromache made up her mind.
She looked at her husband, dark eyes clear as they met his. And then she turned and walked out of the room.
Trusting him.
Triantifilla, stopped her struggle, eyes wide and utterly confused as her daughter left her to the overpowering
beast in front of her.
Hector didn't speak until his wife was out of the room. Then, still holding her wrists tightly he looked at his mother
in law. "So." He said casually, as if he were exerting absolutely no effort. "What are you going to do now?" He
asked her. "You could keep fighting, and in the end kill yourself, or you could just calm down. You really are an
object of pity, your daughter no longer fears you and she trusts me. How does that make you feel?"
He moved her so her back was to him and her hands still restrained. "So what's it going to be? I thought I'd be a
gentleman and let you make the choice."
Triantifilla had let herself be maneuvered unresistingly. Shaken enough by an entirely unforseen turn of events
that it took the anger and the hatred a moment to return. But without the familiar anger the other emotions that
crowded up and clamored for attention were too painful to deal with and so she turned toward the only thing that
gave her strength.
"You think you've won?" she spit it at him, twisting against his restraining hands to glare at him over her shoulder.
"You think belittling me in front of my daughter is a triumph? You're a man. Its in your nature to hurt her. Knowing
that, seeing that pain in her eyes when you do - that will be my victory." Her cold eyes glared pure hatred at him.
A hatred that finally outmatched the greatest she'd known until that moment. The one she'd reserved for the
daughter that had cost her any future children with her birthing.
"I'll dance at your bonfire, prince of Troy. And I'll drink her tears when you abandon her." She tested his grip,
knowing that attacking him physically was pointless now. But there were other ways to break a man. "I'll see that
your children never know their home and spend their days in this life and the next harried by the shades of your
dead enemies. And you will come to hate the day you first laid eyes on my daughter."
"The only thing I saw in her eyes was love for me." hector countered. "You're not even a thought now that she
sees what a pitiful petty woman you are. You're not someone to be feared anymore, you can't hurt her anymore.
Because you know you'll have to go through me and you know you can't."
He didn't even bother to respond to her other accusations and claims, knowing that wouldn't happen but it was
senseless to tell her that. "And feel free to dance at my bonfire. It will be just a preview of your afterlife in
Tartarus. Because Hades won't tolerate you anymore than I do." He suddenly released her and spun her away
from him.
"I can't say this was a pleasure." He said. "But it was interesting. Don't come near me, don't come near my wife
and don't come near my children or I will kill you."
Triantifilla didn't respond. There was nothing left to say and she watched him with narrowed eyes as she stood
near the far wall. Long hands absently against the bruises on her wrists. Back still straight and head still high.
Everything her daughter might have become one day. And utterly powerless.
Everything would change now. And the distance and respect she'd carved for herself would never survive once
the dogs that ruled her family found out that a man had bested her in her own lair. They'd try to pull her down,
rend her, now that they knew it was possible. And she hated the man that had brought it all down on her.
Promised herself she'd see his doom if she had to tear down all of Thebes to bring it to pass.
Andromache waited outside the tower, sitting on the single remaining stone bench and wondering if the garden
had ever been anything other than the growth of poisons and sickness that she remembered as a child. Rumor
had it that her father had built it, and the tower, for her mother. When they'd first married because she'd wanted a
place all her own. She'd sent her little brother away. As much as he hadn't wanted to go, he hadn't questioned
her either. Whatever her husband did inside that tower, whatever face he wore when he walked out - that was for
her and him. Not family gossip. It was strange. She'd never felt so free and so sad at the same time before.
Hector didn't need to say anything more to Triantifilla. He could see the challenge and threat still in her eyes, and
he answered it back silently with the protective strength in his own before leaving her rooms, shutting the door
loudly and firmly behind him.
He took a breath to shake off the mood and saw Andromache on the stone bench and went over to her, sitting
down next to her. "She can't hurt you." He said simply. "I won't let her. Its over." Triantifilla could try all she wanted,
but he knew when he left that room that he had broken her. Finally someone had. Now she was just hot air and
heated glares.
Andromache took his face, his handsome, precious face in her hands, smoothing long fingers gently across his
skin. Looking up at him with deep eyes. She didn't deserve him. No woman did. And she would never stop
thanking the gods for him. Gentle, she raised her face and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.
He'd saved her. Again. From her past.
"Thank you." she whispered it, lowering her head so her forehead rested against his. Eyes closed. She should
apologize. For what he'd seen in there. For her mother. For the fact that she hadn't taken care of the problem
herself. But at the moment, in the face of what he'd done, one thing came first and she nuzzled her face gently
against his as she repeated it. "Thank you."
"Don't listen to a word she said and forget anything she'd ever said." Hector said to his wife, holding her close. He
was still worried that her mother had managed to get to her yet again, over him, with her baseless claims and
predictions.
"Come on, let's go enjoy the rest of the city and our time here. Don't let her hang over our heads." He said gently.
"Besides, you owe me a tour.""I do." she agreed quietly to his tour reminder. But she didn't move yet unless it was
to snuggled closer in his arms. He'd faced down her mother. The nightmare she was so used to living with. And he
hadn't needed to. Triantifilla wouldn't have come after him.
"Thank you" she whispered it, surprising herself as she added: "For not hurting her."
"I would have." He said. "Had she made more of a move, I would have killed her." He was always honest with her.
"Luckily she didn't push me." He stood up and stood her up by her hands to join him. If nothing else, they should
get away from there. "Come on, now I'm hungry." He said with a chuckle.
His admission didn't startle her. Or scare her. She knew he was willing to kill to protect what he loved. Knew he'd
been called on to do just that in the past. But she was glad he hadn't been forced to do that this time. And it
wasn't for her mother's sake that she was grateful.
"I know just the place." she answered with a soft smile for him, linking her fingers through his to draw him back into
the palace. His hands, familiar with violence, never gave her anything but gentleness. She could never fear him.