She sat under a pomegranate tree, her favourite one to be exact. It was
quiet, with only a slight breeze creating a cooling sensation against her
hot skin, and the only noise that could be heard were the sounds of pages
turning as she read a book in the blissful shade of the tree.
Her long godly blonde hair fell down to her back, only slightly dancing as the wind caught it and carried it into the air. Helen was tired; she couldn't stand it any longer. She had fled to the garden where she could escape: escape from war, escape from criticism, escape from the jealousy and hate of women and the hungry and lusting look of their husbands, to escape from Paris, second prince of Troy, son of Priam.
All her life she had been cursed with enchanted beauty that was her blessing and her curse. She was treated as an object, quickly married off to king Menelaus, with out her say in it, no one had ever considered her feelings, and no one had ever considered her. She was as tall as the goddesses on Olympus and just as fair as Aphrodite. No wonder men leered at her hungrily and viciously.
She had thought that when Paris had come to Greece, he had come to save her; the truth was that he was called by the gods to complete a task: To choose the fairest of the three goddesses, Pallas Athene, Hera and Aphrodite and award then a golden apple that read "To the fairest of them all". They had each offered their own gifts as bribery.
"Choose me and I shall give you the wisdom to beat all your enemies" Offered Athene.
"Choose me and I shall give you the power only gods can possess" Offered Hera.
"The title is mine and the apple as well. Choose me young Paris, and I shall make it fate that you meet the most fairest woman on earth: Helen of Sparta. You shall fall in love with her" Offered Aphrodite.
Paris didn't even hesitate and out of his own greed had hastily chosen Aphrodite as the fairest of the fair. His fate had been set since that day to meet Helen. Rather greedy.
The other goddesses looked angry and disappointed in seeing that Aphrodite had charmed and bribed the prince of Troy, the most gorgeous man in all of the world they would say, into handing her an apple with a title. She would not only get her way, but also cause nothing but chaos in the process to entertain herself in times of complete boredom. They left back to Olympus without even taking a backward glance.
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Paris walked through the hall and to the bedchamber where he usually found Helen. He was relived he was home, away from the war, where he could spend some time with her, but when his eyes scanned the room, he found nothing!
Where was Helen? She usually was found at the loom, or in the bedchamber lying on the beautiful red couch decorated with the softest velvet pillows.
"Helen?" he called her name and walked around the halls in search for his love. His cape seemed to flow behind him until he had bumped into a servant, the cape suddenly falling to the ground, halted in its track.
"Where is she?" the question was so quick, it took some time for Paris to realize that he had spat it out like venom to the innocent girl.
"Who my Lord?" she responded a little confused at his sudden inquiry.
"My Lady Helen" came a somewhat frantic answer.
"Now, now calm down my Lord she has gone to rest in the garden! No need to be all in a panic!"
Jealousy. The one quality that all humans posses, Paris more than others. The fear of loosing Helen was so great in him that whenever he couldn't find her, he would fuss and worry. Worry that she would lay another man in her bed and leave him for good. After all, this is the way he had gotten her in the first place: seduced by charm, leaving her husband Menelaus and her daughter Hermoine behind in Greece seeming as though she would never be seen again. Stolen and whisked away beyond the unforgiving sea with her prince in shining bronze armor.
He made his way quickly to the garden, leaving the poor servant wondering why he was so flustered. The servant stood there as Paris pushed his way past her leaving her speechless and at a loss of words.
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Helen's peace was soon disturbed as footsteps came rambling through the dry dirt closer and closer to her tree. The figure of a man stopped in front of her, blocking her light. She didn't bother to look but was too wrapped up in the novel to take much notice anyways. Helen stubbornly turned a different direction leaning against the trunk. The man then cleared his throat to get her attention, but when he noticed she wasn't going to give him the time of day he sat down on the ground in front of her. "You're in my way, please move" Helen asked a little annoyed with the persistence of the person, still not looking at anything but the white pages of the book. The man just giggled.
"For the love of the Gods on Olympus!!! Get out of my reading light!" She didn't even look to see who it was but just kept on reading until the figure pulled the book away from her face and smiled. Paris. The most handsome and well-known man in the world some say. His dark brown hair danced in the breeze while gold clips in his hair and the bronze armor on his chest and back glistened in the light of Apollo, the sun.
Her heart fluttered and she tried to suppress a grin that was surfacing on her face.
"Shh, my dear lady, you must not speak of the gods in such vein! You may anger them and they will come down on you and send bad luck for your foolish remark!"
Author's note: well? What do you think so far? Review!! Yes!! Reeeeview!!!! I'm going to follow the guidelines of what really happened in the myth but it's going to be MY way and yes this means a LOT of changes. (yes... the movie didn't quite follow what exactly happened but it's okay) well tell me if you want more.
Her long godly blonde hair fell down to her back, only slightly dancing as the wind caught it and carried it into the air. Helen was tired; she couldn't stand it any longer. She had fled to the garden where she could escape: escape from war, escape from criticism, escape from the jealousy and hate of women and the hungry and lusting look of their husbands, to escape from Paris, second prince of Troy, son of Priam.
All her life she had been cursed with enchanted beauty that was her blessing and her curse. She was treated as an object, quickly married off to king Menelaus, with out her say in it, no one had ever considered her feelings, and no one had ever considered her. She was as tall as the goddesses on Olympus and just as fair as Aphrodite. No wonder men leered at her hungrily and viciously.
She had thought that when Paris had come to Greece, he had come to save her; the truth was that he was called by the gods to complete a task: To choose the fairest of the three goddesses, Pallas Athene, Hera and Aphrodite and award then a golden apple that read "To the fairest of them all". They had each offered their own gifts as bribery.
"Choose me and I shall give you the wisdom to beat all your enemies" Offered Athene.
"Choose me and I shall give you the power only gods can possess" Offered Hera.
"The title is mine and the apple as well. Choose me young Paris, and I shall make it fate that you meet the most fairest woman on earth: Helen of Sparta. You shall fall in love with her" Offered Aphrodite.
Paris didn't even hesitate and out of his own greed had hastily chosen Aphrodite as the fairest of the fair. His fate had been set since that day to meet Helen. Rather greedy.
The other goddesses looked angry and disappointed in seeing that Aphrodite had charmed and bribed the prince of Troy, the most gorgeous man in all of the world they would say, into handing her an apple with a title. She would not only get her way, but also cause nothing but chaos in the process to entertain herself in times of complete boredom. They left back to Olympus without even taking a backward glance.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------
Paris walked through the hall and to the bedchamber where he usually found Helen. He was relived he was home, away from the war, where he could spend some time with her, but when his eyes scanned the room, he found nothing!
Where was Helen? She usually was found at the loom, or in the bedchamber lying on the beautiful red couch decorated with the softest velvet pillows.
"Helen?" he called her name and walked around the halls in search for his love. His cape seemed to flow behind him until he had bumped into a servant, the cape suddenly falling to the ground, halted in its track.
"Where is she?" the question was so quick, it took some time for Paris to realize that he had spat it out like venom to the innocent girl.
"Who my Lord?" she responded a little confused at his sudden inquiry.
"My Lady Helen" came a somewhat frantic answer.
"Now, now calm down my Lord she has gone to rest in the garden! No need to be all in a panic!"
Jealousy. The one quality that all humans posses, Paris more than others. The fear of loosing Helen was so great in him that whenever he couldn't find her, he would fuss and worry. Worry that she would lay another man in her bed and leave him for good. After all, this is the way he had gotten her in the first place: seduced by charm, leaving her husband Menelaus and her daughter Hermoine behind in Greece seeming as though she would never be seen again. Stolen and whisked away beyond the unforgiving sea with her prince in shining bronze armor.
He made his way quickly to the garden, leaving the poor servant wondering why he was so flustered. The servant stood there as Paris pushed his way past her leaving her speechless and at a loss of words.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------
Helen's peace was soon disturbed as footsteps came rambling through the dry dirt closer and closer to her tree. The figure of a man stopped in front of her, blocking her light. She didn't bother to look but was too wrapped up in the novel to take much notice anyways. Helen stubbornly turned a different direction leaning against the trunk. The man then cleared his throat to get her attention, but when he noticed she wasn't going to give him the time of day he sat down on the ground in front of her. "You're in my way, please move" Helen asked a little annoyed with the persistence of the person, still not looking at anything but the white pages of the book. The man just giggled.
"For the love of the Gods on Olympus!!! Get out of my reading light!" She didn't even look to see who it was but just kept on reading until the figure pulled the book away from her face and smiled. Paris. The most handsome and well-known man in the world some say. His dark brown hair danced in the breeze while gold clips in his hair and the bronze armor on his chest and back glistened in the light of Apollo, the sun.
Her heart fluttered and she tried to suppress a grin that was surfacing on her face.
"Shh, my dear lady, you must not speak of the gods in such vein! You may anger them and they will come down on you and send bad luck for your foolish remark!"
Author's note: well? What do you think so far? Review!! Yes!! Reeeeview!!!! I'm going to follow the guidelines of what really happened in the myth but it's going to be MY way and yes this means a LOT of changes. (yes... the movie didn't quite follow what exactly happened but it's okay) well tell me if you want more.