Abaddon (BoyxBoy)

δέκα: Some Tidings

Helen awoke from her dream gasping, her body veiled by a thin layer of sweat. Horrific images ran through her mind, like Marathon, of Paris, Troy, and Abaddon. She had not dreamed of them for many years now. Beside her, Menelaus stirred in his sleep then turned on his side away from her, removing his arm from around her waist. He had let himself go pudgy in later years since his 'rescue' of her from Troy.

Now he was half the man she once knew, if she ever knew him at all. Easing from the bed, too aware of her husband and fearful of his awakening, she slid into a modest chiton and let the skirt cascade onto her legs with her hands trembling. A scar, faint and white like snow, was on her face that was reflected in the washing water. She fingered it as she did each morning with bitterness and depression. She had not been fool enough to not prophesy his anger, but she had underestimated the heavy weight of its toll.

---

Menelaus ran into the birthing room with his drunken soldiers in tow with his face a light with pleasure. Helen couldn't stand looking at him. She was sore from her recent endeavor, sore and tired. She struggled to sit up in her bed and met him with a stony gaze.

"Where is he? Where is my son?"

Helen did not hesitate nor candy coat the truth.

"Your son is dead. He was blue, not breathing as he came out of me."

His eyes met hers in confusion then she slowly saw the color drain from his face along with his joy. Then, in his eyes she saw the sadness replaced with the hot steaming anger she had seen on his face when he had slain Deiphobus. Anxiety and fear rumbled around in her stomach. She struggled not to show it on his face.

"You lie you wretch," his spittle fell upon her cheeks as he ran up closer to her. "Where is my son? Where is he?!"

His arm reached out and the back of his hand slammed on Helen's cheek and she spilled to the floor. His soldiers, in their inebriated states gasped. She shivered on the floor and cupped her injured cheek. A cut had formed and began to bleed in small drops fell down her cheek. She was too shocked to cry.

His soldiers fumbled with their attempts to keep him from further violence and he shook them off effortlessly.

"Find that midwife and bring her to me. They will not get away with this." He ordered.

His soldiers bowed and hurried out the room, bumping into each other as they headed out. Menelaus looked back at her with disgust written clearly on his tanned features.

"You will pay dearly for this. I swear it."

He left, following his soldiers, and was replaced by Hermione who began to clean up the extra blood that had begun to escape from between Helen's legs.

"Mother is my little brother truly dead?" She asked, her voice laced with compassion.

Only then did Helen began to cry. Her salty tears mixed with her blood.

"Yes.....yes!"

Hermione reached over and held her. It did not take long for the soldiers to find the poor midwife and she was brought in, dragged on her knees and sobbing. The guards of the gate had said she had been holding something, a bundle of some sort. They had not thought to check what the bundle was.

"Where is my son you witch?"

"Please," her chest heaved with her whimpers," do not kill me!"

"Where is he?!"

"In the river my king!" she cried out.

In silence, he looked at his guards and made a cutting motion about his neck. She screamed once more for mercy before her head was swiftly chopped and plunged to the floor rolling about. The midwife's face now eternally held her look of fear. Helen saw it all as she leaned up against Hermione. She felt the tears begin again. Two more deaths to add to the pile. Two more souls to perish due to her selfishness.