SectorLutter, I also read Euripedes "Trojan Women" play. I was crying by the end, especially with Andromache and Astyanax. And yes, most of the old poets (Euripedes, Virgil, etc.) have her portrayed as an evil, malicious woman. Homer's work always fascinated me because his portrayal of her could go either way, depending on your point of view. Personally, I always held Helen being a woman like I portray her as in my story, for a few reasons. First off, all the people who wrote about her were men, so they obviously didn't see things from a woman's point of view, and back then it was considered disgraceful for a woman to leave her husband. It was also considered disgraceful for a woman to have an affair, though the husband could have many mistresses. Don't get me wrong, I disapprove of all those things, but I think it's an equal responsibility, both the husband and the wife should stay faithful to each other. And second, it's because for the life of me, I couldn't figure out why Helen would leave her husband and risk death if she was a "malicious, designing" woman. Considering she had to seduce Menelaus in order to survive, it just doesn't seem like it would make sense for her to run off with a man she didn't even care about. And I know that people say Paris was really good-looking, but the Iliad describes Menelaus as being "fair of appearance" also, so it wouldn't make sense that she'd run off with him for that reason.

If Helen was willing to risk death, shame, and ridicule, then there must have been something that deeply attracted her to Paris. And modern day studies show us that couples usually separate or have affairs because an emotional need isn't being met. Considering that (according to ancient stories) Menelaus was having an affair at the time that Helen ran off with Paris, I think it's pretty obvious that she really was seeking something that he couldn't give her. So that's why I'm portraying her the way I am. Anyways, I've rambled on too long, here's the next chapter. This one is a bit philosophical, from Helen's point of view as usual. There's a bit of dialogue between her and Menelaus, so anyways, enjoy!

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The gods never gave me another child, but since I'd stopped hoping for one, it didn't make a difference anyway. To be honest, I didn't want a child. Because I had refused to open my heart to love, I didn't want to be forced to give it. Perhaps a child would have been my salvation, but since I never had one I'll never know.

As time went on, Menelaus grew angry that I had not provided him with an heir. We were dining together for the first time in many months, and he was frowning across the table at me.

"I need a son," he growled, glaring at me. "Why do you not give me one?"

And I need love and respect, I wanted to say to him. "The gods have closed my womb."

"It's been two years since you were with child," he rebuked me. "Obviously you are capable."

I felt a small triumph at spiting him, though it was indirectly. I could not choose whether or not to have a child, as far as I knew. "If it pleases you, I shall go pray to Demeter," I offered dully, not caring what his reply would be.

This offer satisfied him. "So be it, but take your handmaidens with you," he commanded.

So after dinner I ordered Polydora and a few others to veil themselves and accompany me. My heart felt like a rock inside of me, an object that was just there. However, when the gates of the citadel were opened and I walked onto the crowded street, I could feel it lifting.

My eyes opened in wonder at the people around me. I had never been outside the citadel except for festivals, and so I had never observed people going about their everyday business. My veil kept my face protected from the sun, but because I was married I need not have a layer over my face. In all the years of my life, I'd never roamed a busy street nor joined the people in their activities.

Because of the bustle, no one noticed me and I was allowed to dodge through the streets without stares. Demeter's palace was a fair ways distant, but I was in no hurry. Polydora stood at my side and the others followed in my train, happy to finally be permitted out of the palace.

They were handmaidens, so they were allowed out to do the shopping and odd chores that were required of them, but not often. Menelaus was intensely jealous of each of them, since most of them still visited him frequently. So it was an enjoyable outing for all of us.

Over a half hour later, we finally reached Demeter's temple, which was set on a small rise that allowed it to overlook Sparta. I could see the citadel in the distance, towering up out of the cliffs. My handmaidens waited outside while I went in to pray for a son.

I couldn't do it.

As I knelt before the statue of the goddess of fertility, I couldn't bear to bring up any request. I just gazed up at her, the cold, hard stone of her face staring back at me. Her eyes held no life in them. No spark of anger, no flicker of love, nothing. She was cold and distant, exactly the way I felt.

My eyes hardened, and I rose to my feet without uttering a word. A priestess stood nearby, waiting patiently. "Would you like to make a sacrifice?" she asked me.

I shook my head. "No," I said shortly. "There's no need."

I didn't wait to hear her reply and I took the long way home, walking slowly. It was over an hour later that I finally returned to the palace, but thankfully I didn't run into Menelaus. I sent away my handmaidens and walked out onto my balcony, my veil still on my head to cover my skin from the harsh sun.

I sat there for the rest of the afternoon, lost in my thoughts. Polydora came at dinnertime, announcing that Menelaus had requested my presence again. I made myself presentable- not that it required any particular effort- and made my way to the dining area in his quarters.

"Well?" he asked me when he saw me.

I looked at him, my eyes dull and lifeless. I felt repulsed and disgusted as I gazed on this man twice my age, but not for that reason. The face that stared back was hardened, and it showed no warmth in it. I felt curious then, wondering what his childhood had been like that had given him such a face. No person is born with a face like that, rather it is acquired through a lifetime. I wondered what had given him that look. But his question still needed to be answered. I shrugged. "I received no answer from the goddess."

He frowned and I sunk down into my seat. "Menelaus?"

He looked up, his eyebrows raised.

I hesitated, not quite sure how to word my question. "Did you ever love?"

He snorted. "Love is for fools, for those who are weak."

I felt sad for him, then, for those were the words I'd heard his brother speak on more than one occasion. It had never occurred to me how Agamemnon's influence on him might have shaped him. "Not even your family?"

He glanced at me, irritated. "Helen, what is it you wish to know?"

"Why do you enjoy fighting?" I asked him boldly.

"All men enjoy it."

"No they don't," I answered. "The shepherds tend their sheep, rejoicing when a new life is born, not taken. The merchants sell their items in the marketplace, wishing for live customers instead of dead ones. I'm told they buy more, and so the merchant makes more money."

He looked at me, a frown on his face. "Fine then. I enjoy fighting because I am in control, because I have the ability to take life or spare it."

"Did your brother teach you that?" I asked, growing angry at his stupidity. "Did he teach you not to appreciate beauty, or love, or kindness?"

"Those rise and fall like the cycle of the crops, Helen. Beauty will pass, love will grow cold, and kindness will come to an end. Control has always existed, and it always will." He stared at me, then spoke again. "And I do appreciate beauty, just as much as another."

I shook my head. "You do not appreciate beauty, because you don't understand it."

He laughed. "What's to understand, Helen? Beauty creates pleasure, just the same as taking life. They are no different."

I smiled pityingly. "You just verified my words, and I know for certain that you do not appreciate beauty."

He frowned then, growing angry at my brashness. "Are you finished?" he asked pointedly.

I stood from my chair. "Yes, and I bid you goodnight," I said coldly. I did not wait for a handmaiden to be summoned, but rather returned to my room alone. I sat at my desk, reaching for a small hand mirror that I had been given for my first anniversary. It was the only object in my room that would show my reflection.

I felt confused, not knowing why I'd brought up the subject of love and beauty with Menelaus. For what did I know of it? It was true, in a sense, that beauty was the same as taking life. Both offered the user control over the victim, only in a different sense. And who decides what defines beauty? If asked, Menelaus would affirm of my heavenly appearance, but he would not love me, only it. On the other hand, a man in love with a woman would say she is the image of Aphrodite herself. Both are opinions, what makes one truer than the other? And what was love? If it was just a feeling, then it was true that sometimes Menelaus truly did love me. But I know he did not, so therefore it couldn't be just a feeling. But if not a feeling, then what was it?

I shook my head, gazing at my reflection in the mirror. You are asking questions that cannot be answer, Helen, I sternly told myself. But my image stared back at me, as peaceful and lovely as she had been all my life.

"Do you know the answer?" I asked her curiously. She only looked back at me, still keeping her secrets to herself. I frowned at her. "One day you'll reveal your secret to me," I told her. "Though it be in life or death, one day I'll find my answers."

She calmly gazed at me still, silent as ever.