Fight Like a Girl
Chapter 3 - A Face Can Launch A Thousand Ships
"And God help you if you are a phoenix,
And you dare to rise out of the ash.
A thousand eyes smolder with jealousy,
When you are just flying past"
-Alanna Davis, 32 Flavors
AN: I know that they probably didn't have The Iliad in Alanna's world, but please just humor me. It's either this or make up a whole imaginary epic with basically the same message in it, and that would be such a long tangent I figure it would detract from the main story more than the anachronism (well, not quite anachronism, but you know what I mean, the inauthenticity) of sticking in The Iliad would. Besides, I'm just plain lazy :P Also, thanks again to Eva Maddison and 'Me' (well, not really me, that's how they signed.right) for reviewing. I always appreciate it.
Those days in the convent with David were the best in my life, I think. Together we observed the way the women and girls of the convent interacted, and what traits gave a woman power. I flirted briefly with the idea of becoming one of those priestesses who carry axes and patrol the Goddess's grounds watching for trespassers, but I decided against it. I had no love of physical combat in and of itself; all I wanted was power, and those priestesses had no power at all outside of the holy grounds.
I had discovered that, among the older girls especially, there existed an hierarchy of power. Some girls would absolutely grovel before others. These other girls had trains of people following them around, doing things for them.power. David and I set about trying to discover what gave them this power. Perhaps it was how they acted. Some were kind, but the most powerful were sniping things, constantly going behind the backs of people they claimed to be friends with, cutting down other girls.you no doubt are familiar with the sort of things they'd do. Yet, horrible though they were, they had power. No one told them what to do. And so I made up my mind to enter the arena. But not yet. I needed an opening. At the time I was completely isolated from the other girls because of my close connection with David. The others thought me strange and tomboyish, although my antics at playing war had not been revived. What's more, I knew that once I entered the world of the girl's hierarchy, I would have to give up my friendship with David, and I did not want to do that. So I decided to wait till he had left for the City of the Gods to make my move, and to use my remaining time with him to enjoy his company and research how to make my debut a success.
Then David found the book. It was an old book, buried under dusty scrolls in one of the priestess's studies. David had been in there attempting to hide a mouse in the priestess's desk drawer (he was an incurable troublemaker), when he knocked over a scroll. He picked it up and examined it, hoping it would contain some old, powerful spell that would enable him to turn rocks to gold or people to frogs. When he heard footsteps approaching, he shoved it into the pocked I had sewn for him on the inside of his jacket, and ducked out the window he had come in.
Later that day we had looked at the thick scroll together. It was the beginning of a poem, a story, called The Iliad, by a man named Homer. It was exciting, about a man named Paris, and a golden apple, feuding goddesses, an epic war.thrilling. David and I enjoyed it immensely. The reason the story is pertinent now is Helen. She was a beautiful woman, the most beautiful woman in the world. This man Paris was offered beauty, wisdom, and power, and he, like a fool, chose beauty. I would have chosen power. David said he would have chosen wisdom, but I think he would have chosen power too. He was just trying to be contrary. He was like that. Anyway, Paris picked beauty, so the Goddess of Love promised that he would marry the most beautiful woman in the world. That was Helen. The problem was that Helen was already married to someone else. But Paris so loved her beauty that he, who was a prince, stole her away from Troy, enraging her husband. Troy and Greece, Paris's kingdom, had a huge war over Helen and her beauty. She had the power to launch a thousand ships. That was when I knew it - the secret to having power and being a woman was beauty. If you were beautiful, you could do anything. That's what all those powerful girls in the Cloisters had in common - they were almost all either beautiful or rich. I had no way to control my wealth - few women do - and so I would reach for power in the only way I could - by becoming beautiful.
I told David of my theory, and he sat there for what seemed like forever. I could see his brow wrinkling in rare thoughtfulness. Finally, he looked at me and said, "I guess so. But Delia.that can't be it. It might be one way to power, but there have got to be others. I mean, beauty doesn't last forever. You get ten or twenty years, but then it fades away, and you're left as powerless as before."
I was quiet for a moment. I had never thought about that before. Finally I came up with an answer. "All right, that's true. But beauty is still the first key. There are other ways to power, but you need to be beautiful first. Then the doors open, and not until then. So first I need to become beautiful. And you need to help me."
David looked worried for a moment and finally said "All right. What do you want?"
We studied what men thought was beautiful. A girl has to be skinny. I didn't eat for weeks on end until finally David told me that I was getting too skinny, and snuck up cakes and cookies for me at night, refusing to leave till I would eat them all. It had not ever occurred to me to throw these confections up like others did. That didn't come till later. At any rate, David kept me sane, kept me healthy at that time. I worked at my lessons in earnest. I practiced my curtsies for David, and he would say "You're wobbling, Delia." Or, more accurately, "You're wobbling, Helen." For, after our conversation about Helen and The Iliad, Helen was his nickname for me.
As the weeks went on, I became beautiful. The priestesses complimented me on it. The other girls looked at me enviously, and were kind. Yes, I thought that this was it. I had found the key.
Chapter 3 - A Face Can Launch A Thousand Ships
"And God help you if you are a phoenix,
And you dare to rise out of the ash.
A thousand eyes smolder with jealousy,
When you are just flying past"
-Alanna Davis, 32 Flavors
AN: I know that they probably didn't have The Iliad in Alanna's world, but please just humor me. It's either this or make up a whole imaginary epic with basically the same message in it, and that would be such a long tangent I figure it would detract from the main story more than the anachronism (well, not quite anachronism, but you know what I mean, the inauthenticity) of sticking in The Iliad would. Besides, I'm just plain lazy :P Also, thanks again to Eva Maddison and 'Me' (well, not really me, that's how they signed.right) for reviewing. I always appreciate it.
Those days in the convent with David were the best in my life, I think. Together we observed the way the women and girls of the convent interacted, and what traits gave a woman power. I flirted briefly with the idea of becoming one of those priestesses who carry axes and patrol the Goddess's grounds watching for trespassers, but I decided against it. I had no love of physical combat in and of itself; all I wanted was power, and those priestesses had no power at all outside of the holy grounds.
I had discovered that, among the older girls especially, there existed an hierarchy of power. Some girls would absolutely grovel before others. These other girls had trains of people following them around, doing things for them.power. David and I set about trying to discover what gave them this power. Perhaps it was how they acted. Some were kind, but the most powerful were sniping things, constantly going behind the backs of people they claimed to be friends with, cutting down other girls.you no doubt are familiar with the sort of things they'd do. Yet, horrible though they were, they had power. No one told them what to do. And so I made up my mind to enter the arena. But not yet. I needed an opening. At the time I was completely isolated from the other girls because of my close connection with David. The others thought me strange and tomboyish, although my antics at playing war had not been revived. What's more, I knew that once I entered the world of the girl's hierarchy, I would have to give up my friendship with David, and I did not want to do that. So I decided to wait till he had left for the City of the Gods to make my move, and to use my remaining time with him to enjoy his company and research how to make my debut a success.
Then David found the book. It was an old book, buried under dusty scrolls in one of the priestess's studies. David had been in there attempting to hide a mouse in the priestess's desk drawer (he was an incurable troublemaker), when he knocked over a scroll. He picked it up and examined it, hoping it would contain some old, powerful spell that would enable him to turn rocks to gold or people to frogs. When he heard footsteps approaching, he shoved it into the pocked I had sewn for him on the inside of his jacket, and ducked out the window he had come in.
Later that day we had looked at the thick scroll together. It was the beginning of a poem, a story, called The Iliad, by a man named Homer. It was exciting, about a man named Paris, and a golden apple, feuding goddesses, an epic war.thrilling. David and I enjoyed it immensely. The reason the story is pertinent now is Helen. She was a beautiful woman, the most beautiful woman in the world. This man Paris was offered beauty, wisdom, and power, and he, like a fool, chose beauty. I would have chosen power. David said he would have chosen wisdom, but I think he would have chosen power too. He was just trying to be contrary. He was like that. Anyway, Paris picked beauty, so the Goddess of Love promised that he would marry the most beautiful woman in the world. That was Helen. The problem was that Helen was already married to someone else. But Paris so loved her beauty that he, who was a prince, stole her away from Troy, enraging her husband. Troy and Greece, Paris's kingdom, had a huge war over Helen and her beauty. She had the power to launch a thousand ships. That was when I knew it - the secret to having power and being a woman was beauty. If you were beautiful, you could do anything. That's what all those powerful girls in the Cloisters had in common - they were almost all either beautiful or rich. I had no way to control my wealth - few women do - and so I would reach for power in the only way I could - by becoming beautiful.
I told David of my theory, and he sat there for what seemed like forever. I could see his brow wrinkling in rare thoughtfulness. Finally, he looked at me and said, "I guess so. But Delia.that can't be it. It might be one way to power, but there have got to be others. I mean, beauty doesn't last forever. You get ten or twenty years, but then it fades away, and you're left as powerless as before."
I was quiet for a moment. I had never thought about that before. Finally I came up with an answer. "All right, that's true. But beauty is still the first key. There are other ways to power, but you need to be beautiful first. Then the doors open, and not until then. So first I need to become beautiful. And you need to help me."
David looked worried for a moment and finally said "All right. What do you want?"
We studied what men thought was beautiful. A girl has to be skinny. I didn't eat for weeks on end until finally David told me that I was getting too skinny, and snuck up cakes and cookies for me at night, refusing to leave till I would eat them all. It had not ever occurred to me to throw these confections up like others did. That didn't come till later. At any rate, David kept me sane, kept me healthy at that time. I worked at my lessons in earnest. I practiced my curtsies for David, and he would say "You're wobbling, Delia." Or, more accurately, "You're wobbling, Helen." For, after our conversation about Helen and The Iliad, Helen was his nickname for me.
As the weeks went on, I became beautiful. The priestesses complimented me on it. The other girls looked at me enviously, and were kind. Yes, I thought that this was it. I had found the key.