Clash of the Titans - Thetis' Revenge 2/5 + epilogue
Title: Clash of the Titans - Thetis’ Revenge
Written for: reel_torchwood
Author: moonfirefic
Beta: The fabulous Milady_Dragon
Prompt: Clash of the Titans - 1981 Torchwood Style
Characters: Ianto/Jack, Gwen/Rhys, Tosh/Owen, John Hart, Rose Tyler, Mary, Yvonne Hartman, Lois Habiba, Gods of Olympus, Others
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 16,750
Disclaimer: I do not own Clash of the Titans, nor do I own Torchwood.
Synopsis: After a chance encounter with famous director Yvonne Hartman, designer Toshiko Sato lands her dream job as the head of costuming for her latest film; an adaptation of the classic movie, Clash of the Titans. As she befriends the enigmatic man who’s been cast as the lead, strange things start to happen, and she finds herself caught up in the ancient story of two star-crossed lovers.
A/N: I played a bit with Greek mythology here to suit the story, and fit a bit more with the Torchwood characters.
Chapter Two
A month later, they were in the final week of shooting at Pinewood Studios, and three days into the Medusa/Gorgon shoot. One of Yvonne’s changes to the story had been to cast John Hart in the role of ‘the Gorgon’ and doing away with Medusa’s name all-together. Hart had fought for the role, hoping that by bringing a sort of sinuous sexuality to the doomed character, his career might gain some of the momentum it lost due to his bad boy image. Now that he saw exactly what he was to be wearing (lots of glitter, snakes, and not much else) and how much he was actually going to be in the film, (maybe ten minutes) he wondered if it was really worth it.
Mary’s team had coated Hart in gold and green glitter body paint so that when he stood inside the stationary torso that the effects department had made, he looked positively reptilian. The headdress Owen had designed was molded to fit John’s head like a glove and a cluster of jewel-like snakes, in shades of green black and gold, writhed atop it. Even if the emerald green contacts he was wearing itched Hart knew that he cut an imposing figure and hoped that at the very least his bit in the film would earn him a spot on the promotional posters. Walking up the ladder to take his place inside the torso, he surveyed the ornate temple that was the Gorgon’s domain, looking for the upstart who had stolen the lead role in the film from him.
“Where’s Eye-Candy?” Hart asked as a prop assistant handed him a sleek black bow and a matching quiver of arrows. “I get to shoot at that pert little arse of his today and I want to make the most of it,” he added with glee, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.
“Keep your snakes on mate,” Owen replied as he strapped him in. “Jones is getting a few updates to his costume. After you got a little overzealous shooting at the extras yesterday, there was some concern that you might actually hurt him.”
“It’s only a bit of fun,” scoffed Hart as he rolled his shoulders back and settled into the harness holding him inside the gigantic tail. “I can’t help it if the buggers were slow.”
Owen shook his head. He had seen the bruises that poor Eugene had sported after Hart’s shooting yesterday, and he wasn’t surprised that Ianto was being fitted with leather greaves and arm guards. While Yvonne wasn’t pleased that he wasn’t showing as much skin, Tosh had appeased her by showing her how well the light blue toga he was wearing accentuated Ianto’s lean form and the silver threads within the fabric caught the light as he moved.
Owen just hoped that the kid moved fast enough. Harkness had been pining over Jones for weeks and it seemed Hart had finally realized that the young man was the reason that Harkness had refused to rekindle their former relationship.
After witnessing the chemistry between them as the two men kissed during the engagement party scenes a few days before, Hart had seen red and taken out his rage on the hapless extras designated to turn to stone under the Gorgon’s gaze. Now that he had Jones himself to play with, trouble would surely follow.
Checking the rig one last time, Owen made his way back down to where Tosh was double-checking the clasp at the shoulder of Jones’ costume before they started the scene. Owen smiled as he caught her eye. The two of them had become friends; Tosh’s soft grace and quiet strength a perfect foil to his sarcasm and cynical outlook after breaking up with his long-time girlfriend Diane. Ianto had been a surprise as well. His wicked sense of humor and seemingly endless knowledge made it seem odd for such a smart and attractive young man to be wasting his time in films.
The paparazzi had taken a special interest in him since the sneak preview trailer for the film had been released, and were following him wherever he went. They seemed especially keen to find out more about his love life, even going so far as to speculate about him and Tosh. But even as the gossip columns filled with rumors about ‘Ianto Jones and his geisha girl,’ Owen knew better. Though he still kept Harkness at arm’s length, it was blatantly obvious to anyone who had seen the two of them together that Jones was attracted to the lovesick star. Even an old cynic like himself could see that the two men were besotted with each other - even if one of them was in denial of the fact.
“Good luck Jonesy,” Owen said as he joined the two of them at the edge of the set.
Jones grinned. “He still out for blood then?” he asked, nodding toward Hart.
“Especially yours,” Owen replied turning to watch as Hart pulled back the bowstring to test it. “Seems to think that you are getting in the way of his rekindling an old flame and wants to make sure you know he’s not happy about it,” he added as Hart aimed an arrow in Ianto’s direction and caught his eye, before smirking and easing off the bow as if granting him a reprieve.
“I’ve dodged worse than anything that wannabe Medusa can dish out,” Ianto replied as he narrowed his eyes in Hart’s direction.
Owen glanced at Tosh who shrugged. Over the last couple of months they had all wondered about the enigma that was Ianto Jones. He had shown up out of nowhere at a casting call, charming the pants off of Yvonne, who had decided to take a chance on an unknown as her lead after a single audition. He needed little or no direction, seemed to have a natural ability with the sword, and wore the short mid-thigh togas that were the mainstay of his wardrobe as if he was born to them. He’d even grown out his hair over the course of the shoot so that the extensions were no longer needed, and to top it all off, he had a knowledge of Greek myths and figures that made him the darling of the writing department, as he always seemed to have a good suggestion when a certain scene wasn’t going to plan.
But there was darkness to him too; as if he had something to prove, or a past he was running from, and was trying to set right. Owen just wished he knew what it was.
“Keep an eye on Hart and let me know if he cries in frustration,” Ianto said with a grin as he stepped into the Gorgon’s den.
True to his word, as soon as Yvonne called “Action!” Hart let loose his arrows. They had blocked the scene before, but as Ianto wove in and out of the pillars, he added his own brand of avoidance tactics, employing dive rolls and backflips as the rig holding Hart slid forward and he loosed arrow after arrow in a vain attempt to hit him. As Ianto reached the final pillar, he spared a glance toward the statue that was to capture his shield and deftly tossed it into its arms on the first go. By the time Yvonne called, “Cut!” to end the scene, they were ready to bring in the fake Gorgon so that Ianto could make the killing blow and cut off its head.
They shot the approach first, and Hart stopped wide-eyed as Ianto’s blade swung out to rest against his neck. Glancing to the side where the younger man held his arm taunt as if restraining himself from finishing the blow, Hart caught the look in his eyes and realized that he may have underestimated his rival.
“Well done Jones,” called Yvonne as Ianto slowly dropped his arm. “Harper, bring in the dummy so that we can get the shot of the decapitated Gorgon and Hart’s head.”
“You’re braver then you look Eye-Candy,” Hart said as Owen unbuckled him and he stepped out of the rig. “Maybe I’ve been chasing the wrong man,” he added with a leer.
“As if a son of Olympus would stoop so low,” Ianto hissed back before stalking away.
Hart followed him with his eyes as he left; biting his lip to suppress a moan as he watched the fabric that barely covered his ass sway with his movements. Making his way over to the prop table to drop off the headdress, Hart saw that Jones had made his way to the craft services table to get a bottle of water. Deciding it was a perfect time to pursue the boy further, he started towards him, but before he could reach him, Jack arrived on set for his final scene of the day, and started towards him as well. He was nearly there when another man approached Jones; tall with curly blonde hair peeking out from a ball cap bearing a rather large set of gold wings on the front of it. Hart slipped into the shadows and Jack hesitated as Jones took an envelope from the man in surprise and quickly opened it to scan the contents. Curious, Hart edged his way closer trying to overhear their conversation.
“He’s summoning me now?” Jones asked the other man as he finished reading the letter.
“Don’t blame the messenger,” the other man quipped causing Jones to chuckle in response.
“The crew is heading to Malta the day after tomorrow for the exterior shots,” Jones answered. “Tell him I will be there after filming ends tomorrow.”
“You know he won’t be pleased,” the other man said with a frown. “He hates waiting.”
“Tell him it can’t be helped,” Jones answered. “I’ll be there as soon as I can Andy, I promise.”
The other man-Andy, nodded and clapped Jones on the shoulder in farewell before turning on his heel to go. Hart just caught the lettering on the back of his jacket as he left.
“Caduceus Messengers,” he read aloud as the other man left the set. Turning back to where Jones stood staring at the envelope in dismay, he decided it was high time he found out a little more about Eye-Candy and just what he was up to. He had been advised that there might be others interested in Jack, and that he needed to be on the lookout for anyone trying to get close to the actor, but so far Jack had kept mostly to himself, only spending time on set with the cast and crew and having the occasional dinner with his friend Rose and her boyfriend. But lately Jack had cast his eye toward the delectable Mr. Jones, and Hart was determined to make sure that he was scared off before he got to close. He was about to step out of the shadows and confront him, when Jack reached him first. Gritting his teeth in frustration, Hart leaned back and waited.
“Everything alright?” Jack asked Ianto as he reached for a bottle of water.
“Destiny can be a right bitch,” Ianto replied, still contemplating the envelope in his hand.
“I’m sorry?” Jack answered confused.
“It’s nothing,” Ianto replied slipping the envelope inside his toga. “Just an overbearing father with a penchant for throwing mountain-shaking tantrums when he doesn’t get his way,” he added with a sigh. “But enough about that…how are you Jack? Still having trouble sleeping?”
Surprised that he had remembered, Jack nodded. “It’s like I’m stuck in the movie we’re making, but it’s all different,” he said with a frown.
“How so?” Ianto prodded, trying to keep his voice casual.
“Well you’re there, and so am I, but so is my sister Andromeda, if you can believe it,” he said glancing up to see if Ianto was taking him seriously.
“Go on,” he said reached out to squeeze Jack’s shoulder in reassurance.
The simple touch gave him the encouragement he needed and Jack began to tell him all about the strange dreams he had been having ever since filming began.
As Jack spoke, Ianto closed his eyes, lost in a sea of memories as in truth, for Ianto the myth of Perseus and Andromeda was much more than a simple story. For as the former demi-god known as Perseus now known simply as Ianto Jones, it was his life.
Perseus did save Andromeda from the Kraken, much as the myth foretold, but once he had saved the Princess, he asked the queen for the hand of Prince Andronikos, her twin brother, instead. The queen had balked at his request, but soon saw that the two princes had fallen in love while sharing the quest to save his sister, and after consulting with her daughter, who had never really loved Perseus in the first place, decided to bless their union.
Aphrodite was none too pleased that the love match she had orchestrated between Andromeda and Perseus was not to be, and since Zeus was away tending to the aftermath of Troy, decided to punish young Perseus for ruining her plans. The lovers were torn apart and Perseus was taken back to Mount Olympus and shackled to Hephaestus’ forge, made to toil night and day until he quit his lover and bent to her will. Perseus had adamantly refused and warned her that Zeus would not take kindly to her meddling when he returned.
As foretold, when Zeus returned he scolded Aphrodite for her presumption and set his son free to return to his lover, but it was too late. Distraught over losing his love, Andronikos had gone to the seashore to petition Thetis, the patron goddess of his kingdom, for help. But the loss of her son Calibos compounded with the death of her beloved second son Achilles at Troy had sent Thetis over the edge. When Andronikos asked for her help, all she saw was his abandonment of Calibos for the very demi-god who had caused his death. In a fit of vengeance and rage, she dredged Medusa’s head from the deep and flung it across the sea to land at his feet. Unable to look away, the poor man turned to stone, just as Hermes returned Perseus to his side.
“I can still see Perseus screaming in horror,” Jack said as he stopped his story to take a drink of water.
Ianto swallowed the bile in his throat as he recalled the horror of that day, and looked at Jack. He hadn’t recalled all of it, only bits and pieces really, but it was enough to make him wonder if his long lost lover had finally been reborn. Jack looked nothing like Andronikos; his beloved Niko. He had been taller and leaner; similar to Perseus in build, and his windswept hair honey blonde. Seeing how distraught his son was after Andronikos’ death, Zeus had made Perseus immortal and brought him back to Mount Olympus, hoping that his broken heart would mend in time. After witnessing the misguided wrath of Thetis, Aphrodite had seen the error of her decision and by consulting the Fates, reassured him that though it might take centuries, he would find his love again.
But it had been so long now that he had almost given up hope.
Perseus had tried out for the part in the film loosely based on his life as Ianto Jones on a lark, wondering if somehow the Fates were trying to send him a message. Searching the face of the man before him for some flicker of recognition, he settled on his eyes; the same deep oceanic blue of his long lost love and wondered if Jack could be the one he sought at long last.
“Maybe there’s some truth in it,” Ianto prompted, wishing it to be true. He had been told that if he found his lover again, Andronikos must regain his memories on his own and he was not to interfere. For the first time in almost eight thousand years, he had dared to hope it might actually be possible.
“Maybe,” Jack echoed, holding his gaze. “If it is, I really hope that Perseus found his Andronikos,” he said softly. “No one deserves to be without love forever.”
Ianto smiled. “I hope you’re right.”
Watching from the shadows, Hart’s eyes narrowed as the two men shared a moment. Backing away slowly, he made his way back to the costume department to change. Slipping a seashell from his pocket, he tossed it into the air and caught it with a smile, wondering how much his employer would pay for what he had learned.
Chapter ThreeThis entry was originally posted at http://moonfirefic.dreamwidth.org/42927.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
Written for: reel_torchwood
Author: moonfirefic
Beta: The fabulous Milady_Dragon
Prompt: Clash of the Titans - 1981 Torchwood Style
Characters: Ianto/Jack, Gwen/Rhys, Tosh/Owen, John Hart, Rose Tyler, Mary, Yvonne Hartman, Lois Habiba, Gods of Olympus, Others
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 16,750
Disclaimer: I do not own Clash of the Titans, nor do I own Torchwood.
Synopsis: After a chance encounter with famous director Yvonne Hartman, designer Toshiko Sato lands her dream job as the head of costuming for her latest film; an adaptation of the classic movie, Clash of the Titans. As she befriends the enigmatic man who’s been cast as the lead, strange things start to happen, and she finds herself caught up in the ancient story of two star-crossed lovers.
A/N: I played a bit with Greek mythology here to suit the story, and fit a bit more with the Torchwood characters.
Chapter Two
A month later, they were in the final week of shooting at Pinewood Studios, and three days into the Medusa/Gorgon shoot. One of Yvonne’s changes to the story had been to cast John Hart in the role of ‘the Gorgon’ and doing away with Medusa’s name all-together. Hart had fought for the role, hoping that by bringing a sort of sinuous sexuality to the doomed character, his career might gain some of the momentum it lost due to his bad boy image. Now that he saw exactly what he was to be wearing (lots of glitter, snakes, and not much else) and how much he was actually going to be in the film, (maybe ten minutes) he wondered if it was really worth it.
Mary’s team had coated Hart in gold and green glitter body paint so that when he stood inside the stationary torso that the effects department had made, he looked positively reptilian. The headdress Owen had designed was molded to fit John’s head like a glove and a cluster of jewel-like snakes, in shades of green black and gold, writhed atop it. Even if the emerald green contacts he was wearing itched Hart knew that he cut an imposing figure and hoped that at the very least his bit in the film would earn him a spot on the promotional posters. Walking up the ladder to take his place inside the torso, he surveyed the ornate temple that was the Gorgon’s domain, looking for the upstart who had stolen the lead role in the film from him.
“Where’s Eye-Candy?” Hart asked as a prop assistant handed him a sleek black bow and a matching quiver of arrows. “I get to shoot at that pert little arse of his today and I want to make the most of it,” he added with glee, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.
“Keep your snakes on mate,” Owen replied as he strapped him in. “Jones is getting a few updates to his costume. After you got a little overzealous shooting at the extras yesterday, there was some concern that you might actually hurt him.”
“It’s only a bit of fun,” scoffed Hart as he rolled his shoulders back and settled into the harness holding him inside the gigantic tail. “I can’t help it if the buggers were slow.”
Owen shook his head. He had seen the bruises that poor Eugene had sported after Hart’s shooting yesterday, and he wasn’t surprised that Ianto was being fitted with leather greaves and arm guards. While Yvonne wasn’t pleased that he wasn’t showing as much skin, Tosh had appeased her by showing her how well the light blue toga he was wearing accentuated Ianto’s lean form and the silver threads within the fabric caught the light as he moved.
Owen just hoped that the kid moved fast enough. Harkness had been pining over Jones for weeks and it seemed Hart had finally realized that the young man was the reason that Harkness had refused to rekindle their former relationship.
After witnessing the chemistry between them as the two men kissed during the engagement party scenes a few days before, Hart had seen red and taken out his rage on the hapless extras designated to turn to stone under the Gorgon’s gaze. Now that he had Jones himself to play with, trouble would surely follow.
Checking the rig one last time, Owen made his way back down to where Tosh was double-checking the clasp at the shoulder of Jones’ costume before they started the scene. Owen smiled as he caught her eye. The two of them had become friends; Tosh’s soft grace and quiet strength a perfect foil to his sarcasm and cynical outlook after breaking up with his long-time girlfriend Diane. Ianto had been a surprise as well. His wicked sense of humor and seemingly endless knowledge made it seem odd for such a smart and attractive young man to be wasting his time in films.
The paparazzi had taken a special interest in him since the sneak preview trailer for the film had been released, and were following him wherever he went. They seemed especially keen to find out more about his love life, even going so far as to speculate about him and Tosh. But even as the gossip columns filled with rumors about ‘Ianto Jones and his geisha girl,’ Owen knew better. Though he still kept Harkness at arm’s length, it was blatantly obvious to anyone who had seen the two of them together that Jones was attracted to the lovesick star. Even an old cynic like himself could see that the two men were besotted with each other - even if one of them was in denial of the fact.
“Good luck Jonesy,” Owen said as he joined the two of them at the edge of the set.
Jones grinned. “He still out for blood then?” he asked, nodding toward Hart.
“Especially yours,” Owen replied turning to watch as Hart pulled back the bowstring to test it. “Seems to think that you are getting in the way of his rekindling an old flame and wants to make sure you know he’s not happy about it,” he added as Hart aimed an arrow in Ianto’s direction and caught his eye, before smirking and easing off the bow as if granting him a reprieve.
“I’ve dodged worse than anything that wannabe Medusa can dish out,” Ianto replied as he narrowed his eyes in Hart’s direction.
Owen glanced at Tosh who shrugged. Over the last couple of months they had all wondered about the enigma that was Ianto Jones. He had shown up out of nowhere at a casting call, charming the pants off of Yvonne, who had decided to take a chance on an unknown as her lead after a single audition. He needed little or no direction, seemed to have a natural ability with the sword, and wore the short mid-thigh togas that were the mainstay of his wardrobe as if he was born to them. He’d even grown out his hair over the course of the shoot so that the extensions were no longer needed, and to top it all off, he had a knowledge of Greek myths and figures that made him the darling of the writing department, as he always seemed to have a good suggestion when a certain scene wasn’t going to plan.
But there was darkness to him too; as if he had something to prove, or a past he was running from, and was trying to set right. Owen just wished he knew what it was.
“Keep an eye on Hart and let me know if he cries in frustration,” Ianto said with a grin as he stepped into the Gorgon’s den.
True to his word, as soon as Yvonne called “Action!” Hart let loose his arrows. They had blocked the scene before, but as Ianto wove in and out of the pillars, he added his own brand of avoidance tactics, employing dive rolls and backflips as the rig holding Hart slid forward and he loosed arrow after arrow in a vain attempt to hit him. As Ianto reached the final pillar, he spared a glance toward the statue that was to capture his shield and deftly tossed it into its arms on the first go. By the time Yvonne called, “Cut!” to end the scene, they were ready to bring in the fake Gorgon so that Ianto could make the killing blow and cut off its head.
They shot the approach first, and Hart stopped wide-eyed as Ianto’s blade swung out to rest against his neck. Glancing to the side where the younger man held his arm taunt as if restraining himself from finishing the blow, Hart caught the look in his eyes and realized that he may have underestimated his rival.
“Well done Jones,” called Yvonne as Ianto slowly dropped his arm. “Harper, bring in the dummy so that we can get the shot of the decapitated Gorgon and Hart’s head.”
“You’re braver then you look Eye-Candy,” Hart said as Owen unbuckled him and he stepped out of the rig. “Maybe I’ve been chasing the wrong man,” he added with a leer.
“As if a son of Olympus would stoop so low,” Ianto hissed back before stalking away.
Hart followed him with his eyes as he left; biting his lip to suppress a moan as he watched the fabric that barely covered his ass sway with his movements. Making his way over to the prop table to drop off the headdress, Hart saw that Jones had made his way to the craft services table to get a bottle of water. Deciding it was a perfect time to pursue the boy further, he started towards him, but before he could reach him, Jack arrived on set for his final scene of the day, and started towards him as well. He was nearly there when another man approached Jones; tall with curly blonde hair peeking out from a ball cap bearing a rather large set of gold wings on the front of it. Hart slipped into the shadows and Jack hesitated as Jones took an envelope from the man in surprise and quickly opened it to scan the contents. Curious, Hart edged his way closer trying to overhear their conversation.
“He’s summoning me now?” Jones asked the other man as he finished reading the letter.
“Don’t blame the messenger,” the other man quipped causing Jones to chuckle in response.
“The crew is heading to Malta the day after tomorrow for the exterior shots,” Jones answered. “Tell him I will be there after filming ends tomorrow.”
“You know he won’t be pleased,” the other man said with a frown. “He hates waiting.”
“Tell him it can’t be helped,” Jones answered. “I’ll be there as soon as I can Andy, I promise.”
The other man-Andy, nodded and clapped Jones on the shoulder in farewell before turning on his heel to go. Hart just caught the lettering on the back of his jacket as he left.
“Caduceus Messengers,” he read aloud as the other man left the set. Turning back to where Jones stood staring at the envelope in dismay, he decided it was high time he found out a little more about Eye-Candy and just what he was up to. He had been advised that there might be others interested in Jack, and that he needed to be on the lookout for anyone trying to get close to the actor, but so far Jack had kept mostly to himself, only spending time on set with the cast and crew and having the occasional dinner with his friend Rose and her boyfriend. But lately Jack had cast his eye toward the delectable Mr. Jones, and Hart was determined to make sure that he was scared off before he got to close. He was about to step out of the shadows and confront him, when Jack reached him first. Gritting his teeth in frustration, Hart leaned back and waited.
“Everything alright?” Jack asked Ianto as he reached for a bottle of water.
“Destiny can be a right bitch,” Ianto replied, still contemplating the envelope in his hand.
“I’m sorry?” Jack answered confused.
“It’s nothing,” Ianto replied slipping the envelope inside his toga. “Just an overbearing father with a penchant for throwing mountain-shaking tantrums when he doesn’t get his way,” he added with a sigh. “But enough about that…how are you Jack? Still having trouble sleeping?”
Surprised that he had remembered, Jack nodded. “It’s like I’m stuck in the movie we’re making, but it’s all different,” he said with a frown.
“How so?” Ianto prodded, trying to keep his voice casual.
“Well you’re there, and so am I, but so is my sister Andromeda, if you can believe it,” he said glancing up to see if Ianto was taking him seriously.
“Go on,” he said reached out to squeeze Jack’s shoulder in reassurance.
The simple touch gave him the encouragement he needed and Jack began to tell him all about the strange dreams he had been having ever since filming began.
As Jack spoke, Ianto closed his eyes, lost in a sea of memories as in truth, for Ianto the myth of Perseus and Andromeda was much more than a simple story. For as the former demi-god known as Perseus now known simply as Ianto Jones, it was his life.
Perseus did save Andromeda from the Kraken, much as the myth foretold, but once he had saved the Princess, he asked the queen for the hand of Prince Andronikos, her twin brother, instead. The queen had balked at his request, but soon saw that the two princes had fallen in love while sharing the quest to save his sister, and after consulting with her daughter, who had never really loved Perseus in the first place, decided to bless their union.
Aphrodite was none too pleased that the love match she had orchestrated between Andromeda and Perseus was not to be, and since Zeus was away tending to the aftermath of Troy, decided to punish young Perseus for ruining her plans. The lovers were torn apart and Perseus was taken back to Mount Olympus and shackled to Hephaestus’ forge, made to toil night and day until he quit his lover and bent to her will. Perseus had adamantly refused and warned her that Zeus would not take kindly to her meddling when he returned.
As foretold, when Zeus returned he scolded Aphrodite for her presumption and set his son free to return to his lover, but it was too late. Distraught over losing his love, Andronikos had gone to the seashore to petition Thetis, the patron goddess of his kingdom, for help. But the loss of her son Calibos compounded with the death of her beloved second son Achilles at Troy had sent Thetis over the edge. When Andronikos asked for her help, all she saw was his abandonment of Calibos for the very demi-god who had caused his death. In a fit of vengeance and rage, she dredged Medusa’s head from the deep and flung it across the sea to land at his feet. Unable to look away, the poor man turned to stone, just as Hermes returned Perseus to his side.
“I can still see Perseus screaming in horror,” Jack said as he stopped his story to take a drink of water.
Ianto swallowed the bile in his throat as he recalled the horror of that day, and looked at Jack. He hadn’t recalled all of it, only bits and pieces really, but it was enough to make him wonder if his long lost lover had finally been reborn. Jack looked nothing like Andronikos; his beloved Niko. He had been taller and leaner; similar to Perseus in build, and his windswept hair honey blonde. Seeing how distraught his son was after Andronikos’ death, Zeus had made Perseus immortal and brought him back to Mount Olympus, hoping that his broken heart would mend in time. After witnessing the misguided wrath of Thetis, Aphrodite had seen the error of her decision and by consulting the Fates, reassured him that though it might take centuries, he would find his love again.
But it had been so long now that he had almost given up hope.
Perseus had tried out for the part in the film loosely based on his life as Ianto Jones on a lark, wondering if somehow the Fates were trying to send him a message. Searching the face of the man before him for some flicker of recognition, he settled on his eyes; the same deep oceanic blue of his long lost love and wondered if Jack could be the one he sought at long last.
“Maybe there’s some truth in it,” Ianto prompted, wishing it to be true. He had been told that if he found his lover again, Andronikos must regain his memories on his own and he was not to interfere. For the first time in almost eight thousand years, he had dared to hope it might actually be possible.
“Maybe,” Jack echoed, holding his gaze. “If it is, I really hope that Perseus found his Andronikos,” he said softly. “No one deserves to be without love forever.”
Ianto smiled. “I hope you’re right.”
Watching from the shadows, Hart’s eyes narrowed as the two men shared a moment. Backing away slowly, he made his way back to the costume department to change. Slipping a seashell from his pocket, he tossed it into the air and caught it with a smile, wondering how much his employer would pay for what he had learned.
Chapter ThreeThis entry was originally posted at http://moonfirefic.dreamwidth.org/42927.html. Please comment there using OpenID.