She let him speak, venting his bitterness through his words. Interrupting him now would only cause more anger, more pain, and ultimately leave her trapped longer. Besides, the mother in her pushed the queen back for a moment, and allowed him to have his say. He needed to spew it out, to get it out of his heart and mind, like vomiting the poison out of the body. Though she knew that this was only a beginning. Still, she could give him this.
But nothing else. Hera kept her face smooth and benign as he spoke, refusing to let him see that his words could affect her. In that regard, the queen was in control. He stood there, and rather than asking for forgiveness he prophesied her ruin. Wishful thinking, certainly, but vicious wishes. He didn't simply want her gone, he wanted her erased. He may well even want her dead. But that simply wasn't going to happen, and he'd have to come to that conclusion sooner rather than later, because Hera did not roll over and give up that easily.
Perhaps he'd forgotten, perhaps he didn't realize because he didn't wish to think about her that much, perhaps he simply didn't know that Hera was a fighter. She'd been born a fighter because she'd had to be. If he thought her cruel, he should have met his grandfather. Kronos had swallowed each of his children as they were born, even though the prophesy was that one of his sons would overthrow him. His sons. So why had he swallowed his daughters as well? Hera could only come to the conclusion that it was done because he truly hated his children. Each and every one of them. She didn't hate her son, she'd never hated her son. She'd hated herself and taken it out on him, but she did not hate him. If she did, she would have had him destroyed. If she did, she'd have him destroyed now.
Instead, she chose to warn him. “There is a problem with your proposition, Hephaestus. As much as you would like for that to happen, as much as you wish to punish me for what you see as my sins, it's simply not possible. You did not simply trap your mother, you attacked your queen. Do you really think that is something that will be allowed to pass, that there will be no repercussions? No. This is the sort of thing that will bring swift punishment, even if it does not come from my hand.”
Hera paused for a moment, to let him remember that though he lived on his own, she did not. She did have other children. Children that loved her. And a son that very much wanted to claim the reward for freeing her. And while Zeus might wish, from time to time, to put aside his wife, he could not allow an attack on the throne to go unpunished either. It would send the wrong message. She waited, until she thought her son had enough time to make those connections in his mind, until he realized what fragile ground he was attempting to make a stand upon.
“You are no longer in your forge,” she said, her voice very soft. “You are no longer hiding behind your walls and your inventions, Hephaestus. How long do you think you could defend yourself, here, now, in this room? And just how do you think you managed to get up the mountain, to get into my home, into this throne room, without a single person challenging you? How? You may be blinded by your anger, indeed it may have made you foolish, but you are not stupid. How did you manage to get here, Hephaestus... and how do you think you're going to manage to leave?”
There was another break then, to let her implications sink in. She hated to do that to him. She knew, far too well at the moment, what it felt like when a trap closed. Unlike Hephaestus, she hadn't planned for it, she was simply taking advantage of the situation. But the moment he began his trek, Hera'd been thinking. She was always thinking, she was always planning, she was always trying to see all of the possible outcomes. There had been the hope that his coming to her would lead to... Well. That was moot now, wasn't it? He'd made his offer. Now she would make hers.
“I have a proposition of my own. Would you like to hear it?”