A Wife's Torment

A Wife¶s Torment A Troy Fanfiction I have been called many things: Princess, Wife, Mother, and ± most dear to my heart ± Beloved. And I have risked beco min g known as L iar or, in my darkest moments, Murderess. I would not have it so, not for all the jewels and spices of the Eastern realms. My treasures are here, within this fair and bright c ity , and I have no wish to acquire more. So I must smile and laugh and never betra y my true feelings. For I curse that rash boy. I lament his birth, a blighted day for Troy while I spun and wove in my family's dwelling in Cilicia, unaware and ignorant. Had I known who was at t hat moment entering the world, I would have abandoned my loo m and made straightway for Priam's city. Even if my only weapon had been a pair of fragile womanly hands, I would not have flinched from committing a wholly justified murder. Were the babe st ill bl ood y from the womb I would have still acted. Such burnings in my breast are as easily doused as ignited. The latter requires but one glimpse of that frivolous and vain bo y, Paris of the unruly locks and wanto n spirit. When such fury seizes me, I pray for Hector's presence to soothe it like a balm on a blister. At such times I find it nearly impossible to believe they are brothers. How can o ne man such as wise Priam produce two sons as different from each ot her as the sun from the moon? The elder wooed a maiden in the proper manner and too k her to wife without offense or misstep, for I set great store by such things ± as did Hector. Yet the younger« He obeys naught but carnal whims and lechery. And through it he has brought doom upon us all. I partake of feasts, my station forcing me to sit near the wretch, though I would rather flee to Mount Ida and tend the boy's former flocks than endure his company. Would he had remained attached to them rather t han gamboling after another woolly lamb! Every goblet stem has felt the crush o f my hand. Every muscle in my face has felt the soreness of enforced pleasure and gaiety. Every thought has been tormented since the day my husband returned, bearing the black woe that Troy had had a brutal challenge thrust upon her. Hector loves Paris, and I cannot fault him for it. I would not have my husband be any d ifferent. Troy would suffer in another way were Hect or to become a lesser man, tossing his blood kin away so carelessly. Love, Honor, and Respect. That is what rules Troy. What rules Hector. And this boy reciprocates it not at all.

A Wife's Torment

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