Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am poor, making no money off this, please
don't sue.
Author's Note: While this is based off of the 2003 USA mini-series "Helen of Troy" you can read it without having to have seen the mini-series because there isn't any genuine crucial information located in this tale.
- Haunted Dreams -
Helen tossed in her sleep, as she did almost every evening. Menelaus lay on his side as he watched her toss and turn, moaning in pain. Menelaus knew that she was dreaming of Troy, dreaming of Paris. She did not love him, he knew that, but he also knew that she was here with him and not with Paris, for Paris was dead.
"Paris," Helen moaned, "Where are you?"
Menelaus threw off the sheets and pulling over himself a robe he sat in a chair and watched her moan. He felt angry and upset. She had lived here, back in Sparta, with him for ten years and still she dreamed of Paris. He would often catch her looking up at the stars or out at the sea.
He knew that Helen dreamed day and night of Paris. She also dreamed of her brotherly friend Hector, the King Priam and Queen Hecuba. She dreamed of the child she wished she had with Paris.
Menelaus often wondered if Paris had been unable to have children, for the moment Helen had arrived back in Sparta, some ten months after the battle of Troy, she had quickly come with child. She had spent ten years in Troy and never been with child, at least to Menelaus's knowledge. Helen never spoke of her time in Troy and he never asked. He didn't care to know, most of the time.
Helen rolled over and when she didn't find Menelaus there her eyes flew open, "Menelaus, come to bed." She reached out for the husband she did not love.
"You called for him again. You called for Paris."
"I cannot help what I fell in my heart. You know I do not love you," Helen said. "I will always love Paris, even if I share your bed and bare your children."
Menelaus pushed himself up from the chair and disrobed. He climbed into bed next to his wife and she curled up in the corner of his arms. He knew that she felt no security there and sometimes wondered if perhaps he was not a vessel she used to carry out fantasies with Paris.
He hugged her tightly and soon felt her chest breathing rhythmically again. She was once more asleep.
THE END
Author's Note: While this is based off of the 2003 USA mini-series "Helen of Troy" you can read it without having to have seen the mini-series because there isn't any genuine crucial information located in this tale.
- Haunted Dreams -
Helen tossed in her sleep, as she did almost every evening. Menelaus lay on his side as he watched her toss and turn, moaning in pain. Menelaus knew that she was dreaming of Troy, dreaming of Paris. She did not love him, he knew that, but he also knew that she was here with him and not with Paris, for Paris was dead.
"Paris," Helen moaned, "Where are you?"
Menelaus threw off the sheets and pulling over himself a robe he sat in a chair and watched her moan. He felt angry and upset. She had lived here, back in Sparta, with him for ten years and still she dreamed of Paris. He would often catch her looking up at the stars or out at the sea.
He knew that Helen dreamed day and night of Paris. She also dreamed of her brotherly friend Hector, the King Priam and Queen Hecuba. She dreamed of the child she wished she had with Paris.
Menelaus often wondered if Paris had been unable to have children, for the moment Helen had arrived back in Sparta, some ten months after the battle of Troy, she had quickly come with child. She had spent ten years in Troy and never been with child, at least to Menelaus's knowledge. Helen never spoke of her time in Troy and he never asked. He didn't care to know, most of the time.
Helen rolled over and when she didn't find Menelaus there her eyes flew open, "Menelaus, come to bed." She reached out for the husband she did not love.
"You called for him again. You called for Paris."
"I cannot help what I fell in my heart. You know I do not love you," Helen said. "I will always love Paris, even if I share your bed and bare your children."
Menelaus pushed himself up from the chair and disrobed. He climbed into bed next to his wife and she curled up in the corner of his arms. He knew that she felt no security there and sometimes wondered if perhaps he was not a vessel she used to carry out fantasies with Paris.
He hugged her tightly and soon felt her chest breathing rhythmically again. She was once more asleep.
THE END
