Chapter Text
Greek Mythology, Hektor/Andromache, 'Cause all I know is we said, "Hello"/And your eyes look like comin' home/All I know is a simple name/And everything has changed
When her brother Etocles finds her before their father can, tells her that Priam’s heir has come down from the great city of Troy to ask for her hand, she laughs in his face, so absurd is the idea; there are scrapes on her knees, bits of bracken in her hair, the scent of horse lingering about her person; she is hardly anyone’s idea of a queen.
When she discovers the truth of it, she assumes the true wealth of her father is the desired goal: the horses, bred for strength, beauty, war and glory, a far more impressive prize than she could hope to be, for Hektor is a well-known horseman, respected for it even by she, who respects so few.
When she meets him for the first time, she expects little and less, expects a man who will dismiss her as one more piece of baggage, just the price he must pay; so it is that he takes her by surprise, all dark curls and intense gaze, a look that sees right through her and enjoys the view, she thinks, and watches the warmth in those eyes as he speaks a single word: “Andromache,” her life spinning off course, wrapped in the lyrical syllables of her name rolling across his tongue.