Sorry- I forgot to put up a disclaimer. So here it goes: Homer has been
dead for thousands of years. I however, am still quite alive. Therefore, I
am obviously not Homer- and all characters are his.
After that I was more closely guarded. I was not allowed to wander out of the palace grounds alone. I spent most of my time sewing new gowns, and reading in the library.
More suitors poured in by the day, full of the rumors that had spread far and wide about my beauty. I felt like a prize, then. They came with gifts, attendants, and promises of glory. But their enthusiasm was directed towards my father. I was given no say in the affair. It was just as well, I suppose. I did not love any, and though there were some I preferred above others, my favor did not drive me to such lengths as to challenge my father, and force him to give me say.
I watched as my father discussed the young men with his advisors, discussing political advantages of one, the great wealth of another, and the physical prowess of yet another. For completeness sake, I suppose I should include the foremost of my suitors. There was Odysseus, son of Laertes; Diomedes, son of Tydeus; Antilochus, son of Nestor; Agapenor, son of Ancaeus; Sthenelus, son of Capaneus; Amphimachus, son of Cteatus; Thalpius, son of Eurytus; Meges, son of Phyleus; Amphilochus, son of Amphiaraus; Menestheus, son of Peteos; Schedius and Epistrophus, sons of Iphitus; Polyxenus, son of Agasthenes; Peneleus, son of Hippalcimus; Leitus, son of Alector; Ajax, son of Oileus; Ascalaphus and Ialmenus, sons of Ares; Elephenor, son of Chalcodon; Eumelus, son of Admetus; Polypoetes, son of Peirithous; Leonteus, son of Coronus; Podaleirius and Machaon, sons of Asclepius; Philoctetes, son of Poeas; Eurypylus, son of Euaemon; Protesilaus and Podarces, sons of Iphiclus; Menelaus, son of Pleisthenes (or Atreus); Ajax and Teucer, sons of Telamon; Patroclus, son of Menoetius; and Idomeneus, son of Deucalion. And of course there was Achilles.
My father did not seem to know how to deal with the hordes of young men, clamoring for my hand. To choose one would offend the hundreds of others, and it could pose future problems. He hinted to me several times that he knew just the one, though he never told me until after the oath.
With the encouragement of Odysseus (that crafty, wily man!), he arranged to have all the suitors to back up the chosen one, and to fight for him if I was taken away. This oath would cause severe problems for me in the future, and it would destroy my love. But, at the time it seemed exciting to have all these famed young men swearing to honor and protect the one who married me.
Odysseus was a strange man. He did not actively pursue me as all the others had done. He did not constantly remark on my beauty, not any other merit that would have deserved a compliment. Instead he spoke of his home, Ithaca, and vague subjects such as the weather and the planting seasons. But I liked him. He treated me not as a God, but as a normal human being. Of course I did love to be worshipped, but the same thing over and over can become monotonous, and Odysseus did indeed break the chain of respects. I was even slightly disappointed when he settled for my cousin, Penelope, though I wished him well and presented him with a sapphire ring for his new wife.
A thick anxiety descended over court after the oath. My father would soon make his announcement, and I would be shipped off with my new bridegroom; whoever that would be. I refused to think about it. Clytemnestra was right when she said I did not worry about the future, I merely lived in the moment. But on that fateful day, an emotion I had hardly ever felt descended upon me: it was fear.
The suitors were led to my father's courtroom, where the hundreds of them crowded before his throne. I was positioned slightly behind him, arrayed in all my glory. I felt the eyes of hundreds, greedily resting upon me, and I shifted slightly so my face was masked in shadows. My breath came in slow, short gasps, knowing my future would be decided in moments. I now had a glimpse of what Clytemnestra had felt before she was to marry Agamemnon, and I did not like it at all.
I held my breath as my father stood, robes falling about his shoulders gracefully. As one, my suitors all stood a bit straighter, and their eyes bored into my father mercilessly. "All of you," Tyndarecus began, "Are here for the hand of my daughter, Helen. But only one will be, has been, chosen. I beg of you to remember the oath you all took to stand behind my daughter's chosen. To break the oath and fight, would be to break your honor- and the Gods will make you pay." He paused, and drew in a deep breath. "Through much scrutiny, I have come to a decision. My daughter's hand will be given to Menelaus," He paused waiting for the anguished moans to subside. "And, as a gift to the both of them, I bequeath the Kingdom of Sparta to them. May Menelaus's valor and my daughters beauty forever adorn these halls."
I closed my eyes with despair as Menelaus approached my father and bowed. He did not possess any of the qualities and desires I had hoped for. He was a middle-aged man with red hair he always wore in a stubby braid. He, at least, I tried to console myself was brother to my sister's husband, Agamemnon. At least I would get to see my sister at our wedding.
"Helen," I heard a voice say from beside me. The voice was low, and gruff, "I hope you will except my hand."
I opened my eyes to see Menelaus before me, eyes alight with greed. "Your hand is not for me to except, but to receive," I said demurely. I again shut my eyes, but this time to keep my tears from spilling out. I felt a warm hand lightly caress my shoulder, "I will always take care of you Helen," Menelaus was saying, "We will be bound to one another for a lifetime.
I nodded, and then excused myself as quickly as possible.
After that I was more closely guarded. I was not allowed to wander out of the palace grounds alone. I spent most of my time sewing new gowns, and reading in the library.
More suitors poured in by the day, full of the rumors that had spread far and wide about my beauty. I felt like a prize, then. They came with gifts, attendants, and promises of glory. But their enthusiasm was directed towards my father. I was given no say in the affair. It was just as well, I suppose. I did not love any, and though there were some I preferred above others, my favor did not drive me to such lengths as to challenge my father, and force him to give me say.
I watched as my father discussed the young men with his advisors, discussing political advantages of one, the great wealth of another, and the physical prowess of yet another. For completeness sake, I suppose I should include the foremost of my suitors. There was Odysseus, son of Laertes; Diomedes, son of Tydeus; Antilochus, son of Nestor; Agapenor, son of Ancaeus; Sthenelus, son of Capaneus; Amphimachus, son of Cteatus; Thalpius, son of Eurytus; Meges, son of Phyleus; Amphilochus, son of Amphiaraus; Menestheus, son of Peteos; Schedius and Epistrophus, sons of Iphitus; Polyxenus, son of Agasthenes; Peneleus, son of Hippalcimus; Leitus, son of Alector; Ajax, son of Oileus; Ascalaphus and Ialmenus, sons of Ares; Elephenor, son of Chalcodon; Eumelus, son of Admetus; Polypoetes, son of Peirithous; Leonteus, son of Coronus; Podaleirius and Machaon, sons of Asclepius; Philoctetes, son of Poeas; Eurypylus, son of Euaemon; Protesilaus and Podarces, sons of Iphiclus; Menelaus, son of Pleisthenes (or Atreus); Ajax and Teucer, sons of Telamon; Patroclus, son of Menoetius; and Idomeneus, son of Deucalion. And of course there was Achilles.
My father did not seem to know how to deal with the hordes of young men, clamoring for my hand. To choose one would offend the hundreds of others, and it could pose future problems. He hinted to me several times that he knew just the one, though he never told me until after the oath.
With the encouragement of Odysseus (that crafty, wily man!), he arranged to have all the suitors to back up the chosen one, and to fight for him if I was taken away. This oath would cause severe problems for me in the future, and it would destroy my love. But, at the time it seemed exciting to have all these famed young men swearing to honor and protect the one who married me.
Odysseus was a strange man. He did not actively pursue me as all the others had done. He did not constantly remark on my beauty, not any other merit that would have deserved a compliment. Instead he spoke of his home, Ithaca, and vague subjects such as the weather and the planting seasons. But I liked him. He treated me not as a God, but as a normal human being. Of course I did love to be worshipped, but the same thing over and over can become monotonous, and Odysseus did indeed break the chain of respects. I was even slightly disappointed when he settled for my cousin, Penelope, though I wished him well and presented him with a sapphire ring for his new wife.
A thick anxiety descended over court after the oath. My father would soon make his announcement, and I would be shipped off with my new bridegroom; whoever that would be. I refused to think about it. Clytemnestra was right when she said I did not worry about the future, I merely lived in the moment. But on that fateful day, an emotion I had hardly ever felt descended upon me: it was fear.
The suitors were led to my father's courtroom, where the hundreds of them crowded before his throne. I was positioned slightly behind him, arrayed in all my glory. I felt the eyes of hundreds, greedily resting upon me, and I shifted slightly so my face was masked in shadows. My breath came in slow, short gasps, knowing my future would be decided in moments. I now had a glimpse of what Clytemnestra had felt before she was to marry Agamemnon, and I did not like it at all.
I held my breath as my father stood, robes falling about his shoulders gracefully. As one, my suitors all stood a bit straighter, and their eyes bored into my father mercilessly. "All of you," Tyndarecus began, "Are here for the hand of my daughter, Helen. But only one will be, has been, chosen. I beg of you to remember the oath you all took to stand behind my daughter's chosen. To break the oath and fight, would be to break your honor- and the Gods will make you pay." He paused, and drew in a deep breath. "Through much scrutiny, I have come to a decision. My daughter's hand will be given to Menelaus," He paused waiting for the anguished moans to subside. "And, as a gift to the both of them, I bequeath the Kingdom of Sparta to them. May Menelaus's valor and my daughters beauty forever adorn these halls."
I closed my eyes with despair as Menelaus approached my father and bowed. He did not possess any of the qualities and desires I had hoped for. He was a middle-aged man with red hair he always wore in a stubby braid. He, at least, I tried to console myself was brother to my sister's husband, Agamemnon. At least I would get to see my sister at our wedding.
"Helen," I heard a voice say from beside me. The voice was low, and gruff, "I hope you will except my hand."
I opened my eyes to see Menelaus before me, eyes alight with greed. "Your hand is not for me to except, but to receive," I said demurely. I again shut my eyes, but this time to keep my tears from spilling out. I felt a warm hand lightly caress my shoulder, "I will always take care of you Helen," Menelaus was saying, "We will be bound to one another for a lifetime.
I nodded, and then excused myself as quickly as possible.