Disclaimer: It's not mine, although I wish I could claim Paris. The characters belong to Homer and the movie rights belong to Wolfgang Peterson and Warner Bros.
I'm really sorry about the slow update, but I've been having some computer problems. But, thanks to my sister's handy flash drive, I was able to update using another computer. Enjoy…I worked extra hard on this one!
Ch. 9: Rescuing Paris
"Callista! Over here!" A voice called out over the howling wind. Helen whirled around to see Odysseus dragging a Trojan boy safely out of the sea onto the beach.
"Odysseus!" Helen cried rushing over towards him, Niko at her heels. "Where's Pa-" He cut her off with a question, nervously glancing at Niko.
"Can you swim well?" he asked her breathlessly, while he helped the boy cough up some sea water.
"Well, yes, but what about - ?" Odysseus glanced at the boy, who had begun to recover and was curiously listening. Turning away from the boy, he looked Helen straight in the eye.
"You are needed to help rescue the boys. If you see him, bring the Trojan Prince to safety immediately." She nodded, and without another word of protest, she dove into the angry, swirling Aegean Sea. Behind her, Niko and Odysseus dove into the water and swam in opposite directions, no doubt looking for more victims of the Trojan shipwreck.
Holding her breath, Helen took several long stokes underwater and surfaced a good distance away from the shore. She looked around frantically, trying to find a victim who was in need on her help – and then she saw them. Swimming right toward her was a small boy being assisted by a hauntingly familiar face. Paris! He's alright!
The Trojan prince looked as beautiful as she remembered; the only difference in his appearance was that his dark curls were plastered to his face. Kicking hard, Helen swam against the waves directly towards her love. When they finally reached each other, Paris gave her an exhausted half-smile. But instead of reaching for her outstretched hand, he transferred the boy to her instead. Treading water, Helen started at him, not understanding why he wasn't going to swim with her to safety.
"Come with us to shore," she begged, but Paris shook his head.
"I must rescue the other boys," he vowed, pointing at a group of five youths still clinging to a piece of driftwood that no doubt broke off from the capsized ship.
"But Odysseus ordered you to come to safety!" Helen protested, wracking her brain for more valid reasons that would convince him to save himself.
"I can't," he said firmly. "My charges' safety comes before my own."
"But he's the King of Ithaca!" Helen wailed, scared for her love's life.
"And I'm a Prince of Troy. It's time I start acting like one."
Before he disappeared beneath the waves, their eyes connected and he mouthed 'I love you' at her. No! I can't lose him again, not when he's made it this far! But Helen had no time to dwell on Paris' decision, for her situation at hand was most pressing. The young boy Paris had saved was obviously terrified of drowning, and had grabbed her around the neck, making breathing not to mention swimming difficult. Helen made her escape by wrenching his hands away from her neck, but still supported the boy with her arms. She yelled to the boy over the din of the storm,
"I promise I'll help you make it to shore, but you have to kick for me, okay? Can you do that?" The frightened boy nodded, and did what Helen asked. Eventually, they reached the shore in one piece. Odysseus met them in the shallows and then took the boy to higher ground. Once she was sure the boy was safe, Helen returned to the sea.
Although it was still daytime, the storm clouds obstructed the sun, making it difficult for Helen to see where she was going. Bright streaks of lightening lit up the black skies, allowing her to see two people swimming off in the distance. Thunder boomed, breaking Helen's concentration. While the ear-splitting cacophony certainly startled her, she disregarded it and kept on swimming, kicking furiously to reach the struggling figures ahead.
Finally, Paris and another boy came into view. Helen took a few last strokes until she reached them, and Paris gently transferred the boy into her arms.
"Please, you must swim to safety this time," she urged him, pulling on his arm.
"Not yet…there is still one more boy who clings to the wreckage - I can't leave him!" They locked eyes again for a moment. Helen could see that he deeply regretted leaving her, but knew that she had to let him try to save the remaining boy.
"Be careful!" She called after him, as the Trojan Prince turned to swim against the current, bravely doubling back to rescue the stranded boy. Helen hated to leave him again, allowing him to risk his life once again in the storm. But she had to get her charge to safety; it was what Paris wanted her to do. Luckily, this boy was a more experienced swimmer than the last. Helen used the waves to propel them forward and they soon reached the shore.
Odysseus and Niko were nowhere in sight; Helen presumed they were still combing the water for victims. After she told the Trojan youth to seek higher ground, she dove into the Aegean for the third time. Helen's muscles ached as she quickly swam in the direction she thought Paris had gone. This worried her – if she was starting to feel fatigued, then her love must be exhausted. Eventually she spotted a long figure clutching the wreckage of the Trojan ship. Inwardly praying that this was Paris, she swam furiously towards the person. Oh thank the Gods! During another flash of lightening, she could barely make out her true love's fair features.
"I couldn't find him!" A panicked Paris yelled when Helen finally reached his side.
"It's not your fault, Paris!" Helen screamed over the deafening wind. "Now, swim back with me!" But to her horror, Paris refused to budge.
"No! I can't leave him!" Paris cried, resisting her pulls in the direction of the shore. "Helen, let me go – he's my responsibility!"
"There's nothing more you can do for him, Paris!" Helen shrieked. "Please, you must save yourself!" Blankly, Paris nodded and took her hand.
Together they fought against the strong current, trying with all their might to reach the safety of the shore. Torrents of rain fell sideways from the angry sky, shielding their vision which was already impaired by the unnatural darkness. They were still a good distance away from the Spartan shores when a gigantic wave wrenched the two lovers apart. Helen was knocked underwater; it took her a moment to find her bearings and swim to the surface.
"Paris! Where are you!" She bellowed frantically after she'd taken a few gulps of precious air. After what seemed a lifetime, she spotted him barely clinging to a piece of driftwood. He did not see her approaching; just before she could reach him, the Prince lost his grip on the driftwood and sank beneath the murky waters. Helen did not have time to think – she simply reacted. Taking a deep breath, she dove into the waves to rescue her beloved.
Once underwater, Helen could barely see her hand in front of her face; she was almost completely blind. So when she bumped into the sinking Paris, she considered it to be a small miracle. Grabbing his arm, Helen pulled the young Prince to the surface. Immediately, she helped him hold his head above the water so he could gulp some desperately needed air. But when he finally caught his breath, Helen could tell that Paris' strength was ebbing.
"Helen, go on without me," he croaked weakly. "I can go no further."
"No!" She cried desperately. "I'm not leaving you," Helen promised him, and allowed him to grab on to her back. Somehow she gathered the strength within her to pull him along with her. Kicking furiously, Helen slowly but surely swam towards the shore, carrying her love on her back. When they were about halfway there, Paris started to slip.
"Don't you dare let go!" She shrieked, turning around to face him. "Not now, when we're so close…" she leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the lips. Her kiss seemed to give Paris new heart. He gripped her back again, and this time he didn't let go.
When they eventually reached the shallows, several of the Trojan survivors, Niko, and Odysseus were waiting to bring them to safety. Paris released her, and Helen crawled a little ways away, making room for Odysseus and Niko to help her beloved to his feet and assist him in climbing the docks.
"Do you need any help, miss?" One of the royal Trojan guards asked her, but she resolutely shook her head no, her mess of now dirty-blonde curls flinging water every-which-way.
"No, I-I'm fine…" She tried to stand, wobbled on the spot, and her legs promptly gave away from beneath her. Sheepishly, she gave the guard a tired smile and without another word, he swooped her up in his arms and carried her up the docks. Helen insisted that he put her down once they reached higher ground and he obligingly obeyed. Taking in the scene, Helen noticed the Trojan youths clustered around someone, who was obstructed from her view. After moving closer she saw that it was her Paris. He was frantically asking everyone there if they'd seen his rescuer.
"I'm right here!" She cried, and the boys moved, making a path so that she could run to him. Paris' expression turned from worry to relief when she lovingly gathered him in her arms. Suddenly he began shuddering with cold. Gently stroking her cheek, he struggled to get the words out.
"I….love…" His body wouldn't let him continue. Paris collapsed, due to exhaustion and exposure to the elements.
"No!" Helen gasped, laying him down on the ground so that he'd be comfortable. She protectively bent over him shielding his vulnerable body from the rain that was still beating down on the group.
"What happened?" Odysseus asked gravely, bending over to look at the shivering young Prince.
"I don't know; he just fainted!" Helen cried. "Is he going to be alright, Odysseus?" she asked fearfully.
"Now I'm no healer," he began, "but I'd have to guess that he's just in shock. He needs to get warm, that's for sure. Guards!" The four Trojan bodyguards stepped forward. "Please take your Prince to the palace…I trust you can find it?" The captain of the guards nodded.
"Good," said Odysseus. "My wife should be there to meet you; she'll get you all taken care of. Use caution; don't drop him! The prince is a personal friend of mine." The Guards promised, and hoisted the unconscious prince on their shoulders.
"Don't worry, he's only unconscious," he assured the frightened Helen as she helplessly watched the guards take her beloved away to the palace.
"What about us sir?" spoke up a hesitant voice. It was one of the boys that Helen and Paris had rescued; he was the proficient swimmer.
"You boys will return to the palace with the guards," Odysseus answered. "Go quickly now!" The boys took his orders to heart and scampered after the guards. Niko and Odysseus were the only ones that remained in the rain with Helen. Odysseus turned to her, as if struck by an idea.
"Did you know who that was? The man that you rescued?" Helen quietly answered no, not caring that she had to fib.
"That was Prince Paris of Troy," the Ithacan King 'informed' her.
"A prince!" she gasped. "I had no idea; he kept going back and searching for more people to save." Odysseus nodded grimly.
"Callista, have you previous experience with caring for people?" Helen played along, knowing they couldn't speak freely in front of Niko.
"I have, my lord," she informed him, truthfully. "I've had plenty of opportunities to care for the injured when Sparta has been at war." Odysseus nodded at her.
"Very well then. I want you to take care of the Trojan Prince…make sure you attend to him and stay by his side at all times."
"But my lord, are you sure that you trust me to..." Helen trailed off. "What about your son and Larissa? Who will bring them home?"
"Don't worry, I'll get them," Odysseus told her. "I just want to make sure that the Prince receives the best care possible. I know I can count on you to give it to him." Helen nodded. She inwardly thanked him for understanding that she needed to be with Paris during his recovery.
"Where are the children now?" Odysseus asked.
"I'll take you to them, my lord," said Niko. "They're visiting my daughter at my home."
"Very well," said Odysseus. "Hurry, Callista!" Helen took this as her cue to leave, and dashed away, through the wind and rain towards the palace as fast as her aching legs could carry her. The steps to the palace were quite slick, so when she slipped running up them Helen wasn't surprised.
"Oww!" She howled frustratedly, and clutched her right ankle. Ugh, I can't believe I'm this clumsy! It would not do to be injured while she was caring for Paris. Luckily for her, after waiting a few moments, Helen's pain slowly ebbed. Carefully, she climbed the remaining steps, crossed the threshold, and was met in the foyer by a frazzled-looking Penelope. The Ithacan Queen's hair was sticking out in all directions, and instead of sporting a fine gown, she only wore a common smock.
"Hel-" Penelope began, but Helen gave her a look. The palace guards were listening – even amidst all the excitement, Penelope mustn't let her identity be discovered.
"Hel…Hello, Callista," Penelope stammered, recovering nicely. "You must be soaked to the bone. Here, come warm up by the fire." She ushered Helen over to sit on the purple plush pillows that were positioned near the cheery blaze.
"Thanks," Helen said gratefully, her teeth chattering. Immediately, Penelope bustled over, covering her head with a towel.
"Here, this should make you feel warmer," her cousin commented, rubbing her head with the towel. "Now, is it true that you rescued the Trojan Prince from the icy waters of the Aegean?" Helen nodded.
"Well, yes but-" Penelope cut her off, chattering animatedly.
"Wow...that was such a brave thing to do!" she exclaimed. "I heard from one of the boys that each time the Prince brought someone to safety, he'd go back for another. You both are deserving of a great honor!" Helen shook her head.
"That's not necessary – I've always been a good swimmer; I couldn't just stand by and let them drown. So, how are the boys doing?" Helen looked at her pointedly, hoping to convey that she was really asking about Paris.
"They seem to be doing alright," Penelope answered easily. "I told them that they need to get some rest, but I think the Prince was asking to see his rescuer before he fell asleep."
"Oh, what a coincidence," quipped Helen. "Your husband just assigned me to care for him while he recovers his strength."
"There," said Penelope, removing the towel from Helen's head and smoothing out her curls the best that she could. Helen stood up slowly, testing her legs, and found that her muscles didn't hurt as much; she could walk normally.
"I'm feeling much better now," she told her cousin truthfully. "I'd better get started on my new duties right away. Should I bring the Prince some nourishment?" Helen asked, and Penelope nodded.
"That's a very good idea. Paris must be starving, the poor dear – go to him now, Callista."
"I shall!" She hugged her cousin gratefully, and then turned to head for the Prince's sleeping quarters.
"Oh, I almost forgot," exclaimed Penelope.
"What? What is it?" worried Helen. Gritting her teeth, Penelope regretfully spilled the bad news.
"Menelaus is looking for you. He's sent his guards into the city…" Helen cut her off.
"I know," she replied wearily. "When I took Larissa to a friend's house this morning, they came to the door. They commanded Larissa's friend's mother to tell them if she knew anything about my whereabouts. I was so afraid they were going to search the house and find me," she confessed. Penelope pulled her into a reassuring hug.
"We'll just have to be extra vigilant, especially now that Paris is here," she whispered. "Don't worry; we'll go ahead with the plan as scheduled. The sooner that he recovers, the better."
"Right," said Helen. "I'll be careful," she promised. "I must go to him." Penelope nodded, understandingly and released her cousin. She watched, her brow furrowed as Helen sped down the corridor, towards the Prince's room. Helen made one quick detour, to the palace kitchen to pick up some hot soup for her beloved.
Breathing hard, Helen reached the top of the spiral staircase. She was now gazing past the entrance of the men's quarters. Not wasting any time, Helen raced toward Paris' old room at the end of the hall. It was the grandest guest room, so she presumed that's where her love would be resting. She was not disappointed because she guessed correctly. In the middle of the massive feather bed, her love slept undisturbed.
As she turned the creaky doorknob, his long dark eyelashes fluttered but they did not open. His soft snores permeated the room as she gently closed the door behind her as to not let in cold air. After she set down the tray of soup on the table adjacent to the bed, Helen was content just to watch her Paris sleep. He was a slumbering angel, sent from the Gods to rescue her from her old life. Not wanting to disturb him, Helen settled down on the divan and closed her eyes. Finally, after all this time being parted from her love, Helen felt safe. But before she could drift off, Paris began to moan and stir.
"Helen…where are you?" he called out faintly.
"I'm here, Paris!" she cried, leaping up from the divan and climbing into bed next to him.
"How…how did we get here?" He asked her, his eyes shining with amazement. "The last thing I remember is being caught in the storm, and how you were swimming with me on your back. I-I didn't think I was going to make it…" his voice choked up, and he reached out his hand to caress her face. Helen closed her eyes and leaned into his gentle touch.
"It's alright, you're safe now." Paris pulled her in for a proper kiss and Helen swooned with happiness. She helped her beloved sit up in bed while she explained what happened.
"Somehow, I brought us to shore," she explained. "Odysseus and your men brought you to safety, and here we are. Are you feeling alright?" She asked him concernedly.
"Everything seems to be fine," he assured her. "I'm still tired, though. And I am a bit hungry," he admitted.
"I'm glad," she told him, relieved. "I have just the thing for you." She got up and brought over the tray with the now cooling bowl of soul. "This came fresh from the kitchens." Although he protested at first, he allowed her to spoon feed him.
"Thanks, Helen," he told her gratefully. "This tastes delicious."
"But you can't keep calling me that…Menelaus is on to us! From now on, you must call me Callista," she insisted. "I'm the new nanny for Telemachus."
"Alright," he agreed reluctantly. "But only when we're in public. When we're by ourselves, you'll still be Helen." She smiled at him, as she was so thrilled that he'd returned and was feeling better. It was clear that he was ravenous, because he scarfed down his soup. Between bites, he asked about her well being.
"What about you, love? Aren't you feeling exhausted after your ordeal?" She shrugged.
"I probably am…but I feel alright. I don't know how I did it, actually. I just refused to be beaten, not after how you risked your life to rescue eight of those boys. That was very valiant of you, my love," she praised him, kissing his forehead. Paris blushed, as he was not used to being complemented on brave deeds.
"I had to save them – they were mine to look after. It's what any decent person would've done." He was almost finished eating his soup when Helen broke down completely. She couldn't help but release the maelstrom of emotions that she'd kept bottled up inside while he was away. Worriedly, Paris set the tray aside and motioned for her to sit beside him. She snuggled close and he enveloped her in his arms.
"Gods, I've missed this. I've missed you, Paris," she sobbed into his shoulder. I was so afraid that you wouldn't find a way back…or that you might've change your mind about me."
"Of course I came back…how could I ever live with out you?" He soothed, kissing her tears away. "Helen, you are my everything!"
"I know," she sniffed. "But then I started to have doubts. I mean, you're going to take to your home. That's wonderful, but how will I know if you'll tire of me in a year? Or in six months?"
"Oh Helen, that won't happen!" Paris promised her, holding her tight.
"How can I be sure?" she whispered.
"Because," he whispered back, tickling her ear with his warm breath. "I haven't asked any other girl to be my wife." Helen stiffened in surprise. Paris slowly kissed her neck while he allowed his lover to contemplate this new bit of information. And then he stopped. Helen sighed in protest. Paris smiled wryly at her.
"This wasn't the way I planned. Being bedridden and losing the ring to the Aegean was not what I had in mind when I dreamed about proposing to you, but here it goes." He took a deep breath.
"Helen, will you marry me?"
End chapter 9
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