Happy birthday Erin! I hope you love it! I know you LOVE Helen/Paris! I think I captured the essence of your OTP! I promised you a Helris! You are the best co-author in the world and I am so glad we can write together about underrated epic couples!
Trigger warning: Theseus is a r*pist
Sorry the story has two huge flashbacks in italics.
Theseus was brave, handsome, a famed hero and he was confident. Helen was certain that what she felt for him was love. She was flattered at how he laughed at her jokes and gave her his undivided attention. His compliments made her feel like a woman and they kept her company well into the night and made her day dream to the ire of her tutors. The look on Clytemnestra's face when Theseus sought out Helen's company, oh! If she could commission a sculptor make her a statue!
Theseus was also well traveled he had so many stories and he never came to Helen empty handed, he brought her fantastic tales and exotic trinkets. He spoke of Athens and of all the other places he said Helen should see, when he spoke to her everyone melted away she never felt so special. Helen was disappointed on the days when he did not drop in at the palace. Helen heard something about some exiled penniless homeless princes seeking shelter in Sparta thus Theseus would be visiting less.
Helen was not happy and she did not bother to hide it, Clytemnestra was overjoyed as she recounted the details that she had gleaned from her eavesdropping on the conversations of Tyndareus and Leda about the princes. Clytemnestra spoke about how Tyndareus wanted to make the princes kin through marriage. Clytemnestra was telling Helen that she could not wait to become the Queen of Mycenae.
"Do you love him?" Helen had asked
"What has love got to do with marriage?" Clytemnestra had huffed
Helen ended the conversation, she was going to be the queen of a finer Kingdom than Mycenae, she decided, she did not like to admit it but she believed that because she was prettier than Clytemnestra that she ought to have the superior husband.
Helen convinced Clytemnestra to sneak off to the harbour to see the princes. As only their father and brothers would greet the boys this meant Helen and Clytemnestra would help Leda with the feast, which was the last thing the girls wanted to do. Clytemnestra was obedient but her interest in Agamemnon was a weakness that Helen was going to exploit with enthusiasm.
The sisters parted ways when Helen suggested a short cut, Clytemnestra was well acquainted with Helen's impulsive short cuts which led to screaming for help because Helen would get them cornered by wild beasts in the forest. Helen cursed herself when she sustained a cut on her arm from a thorny brush. Helen had a habit of getting people lost when she showed them around Sparta it wasn't her fault. Not truly, she had the power of mimicry and she would call out to the birds and get distracted by their responses and her hapless companions would reluctantly follow the girl who sang to the birds.
Helen was holding a conversation with a dove, Helen softly patting its head the bird cooed happily.
"Helen! Helen?" Clytemnestra called out
"Oh my darling," Helen told the dove as Clytemnestra's yelling agitated the dove so Helen released the bird she was still watching it fly overhead when Clytemnestra started again.
"The Myceanaeans have not come! They were detained their uncle has put a bounty on their heads."
"Hmm?" Helen frowned as she heard twigs crunch underfoot, it wasn't Clytemnestra's footsteps she was much lighter. Helen swallowed hard and looked around, goosebumps on her flesh.
"Helen? Come here at once!"
Helen was about to answer her sister when she felt a hand on her mouth, she bit and kicked but to no avail. She soon found herself in the back of a chariot she exhaled with relief when she recognised Theseus but as the chariot rolled away from Sparta Helen knew something terrible was going to happen. Helen's excitement about Theseus' attention turned to fear. She cowered in the chariot and saw a flock of birds fly past she wished to be one of them.
When her brothers retrieved her Helen simply said, "what took you so long?" and walked out of captivity, ignoring any and every assistance and shrugging off any form of physical affection. She had just turned 14 when Clytemnestra married Agamemnon. After her brother's horrible deaths and her abduction Helen was now wise beyond her years she accepted her fate without a complaint.
She was given the task to use her good looks to find a good King for Sparta. When she wed Menelaus at eighteen they had a peaceful and joyous wedding, no one remarked that Helen was coping remarkably well for all her suffering, how the childish girl had accepted the responsibility of being a queen and marrying for a political reasons, all they said was that she looked beautiful.
Menelaus, as the newly crowned Spartan king wanted to prove himself to his new subjects he knew the people were grieving for the Spartan twins, he was an outsider they would not trust him easily. Helen wanted to reinvent herself, she did not want their piteous looks nor did she want to hear about how she loved Theseus. Helen no longer took pride in her beauty, unfortunately it was the only thing that distracted the people from talking about her past.
In the beginning of their marriage there were three in their bed, Helen, Menelaus and Theseus. Even though she detested Theseus with every iota of her being she was surprised how he was still around in the places they sat and spoke and worst he was still plaguing her mind. On her wedding night to rid herself of the memories of Theseus she began kissing and disrobing Menelaus as soon as they were alone in their marital chamber.
Menelaus had slowly pushed her away, Helen's eyes were blazing with the fury of one rejected. Helen's anger turned to surprise when she saw the struggle on her new husband's face, he told her that he knew about Theseus and he wanted her to know that he was different.
She had scoffed, she felt the heat in her cheeks, he was judging her. She marvelled at his nerve, how many royal visitors to Sparta had claimed the same but had raked her body with their eyes, they made her feel, dirty, naked and ugly it was almost as if they had put their hands on her. Helen had grown weary of men's attention. When Helen was present at the numerous interviews with Tyndareus and the elders Menelaus would look everywhere but at Helen and when she spoke to him he could barely string two words together.
She had hoped to marry and go far away where no one knew Theseus but here she was married and to reside in a land seeped with her beloved brothers' blood, a land from where she had been abducted. And her new husband was already lying on their first night together.
Helen had silenced him with another kiss. To Helen's irritation Menelaus was adamant that they have a courtship period before they consummated their marriage. He said that they barely knew anything about each other. After Theseus this was the last thing that she expected she was advised by Leda that all men wanted one thing from her. Helen from her experiences with men and boys knew this was true. Helen was so intrigued by red haired youth that she forgot about Theseus.
The new King explained that his mother had been unfaithful and his father had been violent and controlling, he revealed that he had a simple wish to have a happy marriage. He wanted them to be different from his parents. He told her that he wanted to leave no stone unturned that she would have no reason to find fault with him. She thought he was ridiculous and not just because of his hair, she assented because he was so earnest. He was so slow to temper no matter how much she pushed, slowly she learned to trust him and friendship blossomed between them.
They would go for long walks and just talk for hours, she found his childhood as horrific as hers. They bonded over how bright their future would be and how their children would be protected, loved and would want for nothing. They discussed names for their children, she said that he was awful at naming their future children as was only coming up with names that started with "Hel."
When they did consummate their marriage she was in total control, which suited her shy husband just fine. Unlike other women in her position she was not interested in power she made faces when her husband announced that he had to attend to matters in other kingdoms and that she had to rule in his stead. She often tried to dissuade him from leaving her all alone, but he wanted to fight for justice no matter who it was for so she reluctantly watched him go. The Spartan elders took to ruling when Menelaus left. As the years went on their newly created happy memories replaced the bad. Soon there were only two in their marital bed.
Helen would tug at his sleeve to distract him when he looked like he was carrying the world's burdens on his shoulders and she would lure him into their marital bed for activities which distracted him from his worries. She was fond of him and she heard so very often how much her husband loved her. Their household and all of Sparta was a picture of tranquility.
As Hermione grew older Helen felt a strange feeling of isolation. The father and daughter were so similar they always strove to do the right thing, they kept the gods and they were just so grim. Helen tried to make her daughter laugh and smile but she always asked her why, what, when and how whenever Helen told her fairy tales and talked about romantic love.
Helen left her intelligent and sharp daughter to her husband. He personally tutored Hermione about the cultures and traditions of the other kingdoms and about the governance of Sparta. Things that put Helen straight to sleep, fortunately Hermione was also interested in the arts so Helen was able to tutor her little girl in singing, weaving and poetry.
Hermione had once ran to Helen and hid in her skirts when Menelaus told his only child that one day she would marry and sail away. The thoughtful little girl frowned deeply and that night crawling into her parent's bed she vowed that she would never leave Sparta. It was the night that Menelaus and Helen held hands and fell asleep facing each other daring the other to stay awake longer. Helen had woken up with a smile on her face and her daughter's hair in her face. Her husband was an early riser she was disappointed but not surprised that he was not there when she awoke.
It occurred to Helen that even at 28 years of age all people said of her was that she was beautiful but Menelaus and Hermione had multiple descriptions of their personality, grim, quiet, honourable, sharp, intelligent for the both of them and soft-hearted for Menelaus and difficult for Hermione which was a euphemism for spoiled brat. Because Helen and Menelaus had such different views on parenting they often disagreed on punishments for Hermione so she escaped a lot of discipline. Hermione also ended up with twice the amount of gifts because she had Helen's charm and Menelaus' sad eyes.
Once in a while a sound or a smell would bring Theseus to mind, Helen would immediately seek Menelaus out, hands shaking, eyes wet and mouth dry. Seeing his broad shoulders, his red hair; would calm her he was so different from Theseus in looks and in personality Helen hoped that he never changed. He would look at her in concern and then he would take her into his arms and her anxiety would settle. He had a gentle way about him he was calm and reassuring.
Helen gradually grew complacent, some days she stayed in her aviary the whole day and the world went by without her. She would imagine herself freeing her birds and flying away with them. Would anyone miss her? What did she bring to Sparta? Certainly even Menelaus Mycenaean by birth was more popular than her as Helen failed yearly to give the Spartans their coveted male heir.
Even lovely Hermione was adored by all Spartans the whole week of her birth anniversary was celebrated by young and old, poor and rich alike. Helen would shake her head at her over-thinking she was perfectly content she had a good life now. After her terrible childhood, only a fool would want to run away from the peace and the loving embrace of her family.
Even though the kingdom knew that there would be no more children some helpful and brave crones would occasionally come to Helen with some new potion. Helen would smile, eyes hard and thank the interfering old women and then throw the potions away. Helen had almost died birthing Hermione, Theseus had been particularly savage. Helen thought back to the night Hermione had been born it had stormed as if Father Zeus had been present.
Helen had gnashed her teeth, remembering the foul abortive potions fed to her by Aethra so that Theseus could keep having his fun. And now the midwife was saying perhaps only the child or the mother may survive the birth. Helen had told Menelaus that he would have to choose their child that Helen could not live knowing that her daughter died for her. He had looked miserable but he had given her his word that he would honour her wish.
When Helen woke up to see Menelaus at her bed side head bowed clutching her hand she wrenched her hand away.
"You promised!" she croaked out in grief, "you said you would save our child you liar!" She could not see him clearly anymore her vision was blurry. Even breathing hurt. She trusted him how could he betray her in the worst way possible? She wanted to scratch her cheeks, cut her hair and beat her breast but most of all she just wanted to die.
"Helen, no it is not what you think…"
"You are just like your father he killed your mother and you killed our child! Unhand me!" she sobbed thrashing at him then crying out in pain.
He let her go.
She inhaled hard but then started crying again softly this time, "Runaway go find a virgin wife," she sniffled wiping her face with shaky hands
"Helen my… I would never…"
Helen stopped listening to him, her eyes were filling up again, why was he still talking she wondered.
"…there's someone who wants to meet you…"
Helen removed her hands from her face and caught sight of a bundle in her husband's arms, Helen's heart raced as she saw the bundle wriggle. She looked at Menelaus, he simply nodded. A burst of warmth spread in her chest and she quickly pushed her hair out of her eyes.
Helen looked down at the child being placed in her arms, she was so small and delicate.
"She's a miracle my darling, Demeter was merciful," Menelaus told her hovering.
Helen started crying softly again she wanted to apologise for the things she had said to him but she could not find the words. Menelaus slipped into the birthing bed and held her close, his thumb stroking her shoulder and placing a kiss on her temple.
"I was so scared that I would lose you both but she was so strong, just like her mother. She sounded just like a skylark when she cried," Menelaus was telling her as Hermione wrapped her entire hand around her father's finger as he reached out to his child.
"Hello Hermione," Helen kissed her daughter, she had her father's eyes but the face was a less impish version of Helen. It was the most perfect moment of Helen's life, Menelaus by her side and Hermione in her arms.
When Menelaus had told Helen later that Hermione and Helen were his everything and that he wanted nothing more, Helen wanted to call him a liar but the lump in her throat stopped her. She knew how much he craved to be a father to lots of little Spartans from their early conversations about their future. Perhaps that was why he worked so hard to ensure that the people of Sparta were happy.
When Hermione asked when she was about five if they were going to give her a baby sister or brother Menelaus had told her gravely, "no," the little girl had said, "good, more hugs for me," and held her arms up to be carried. Helen had kissed and hugged her little girl who giggled happily in her father's arms.
On her days at the aviary, Menelaus would check in on her asking if she was well, kissing her on the forehead and leaving her be after she assured him that she was perfectly content. Helen was at peace residing in Sparta with her beautiful daughter and her honourable husband. Helen dozed off thinking about how she had doubted Menelaus on their wedding night, he was absolutely nothing like Theseus and she could not imagine being with anyone else for the rest of her life.
Helen was leaving the one afternoon Aviary when suddenly her husband grabbed her by the hands and told her that they were to have some royal guests and how honoured they were.
Helen raised an eyebrow, "Have we not hosted Nestor, Ajax and our brother Odysseus in the last two months?" she asked
"Yes but Helen they are family and or friends we have an actual Prince from Troy coming to grace us with his presence!" Menelaus looked so excited. Maybe he missed his bull-headed unpleasant brother and was wishing for a temporary replacement, Helen decided.
"Oh Joy," Helen had said humouring her husband she had to admit that the excitement on her husband's face was a nice change from his usual sad or worried demeanour.
Hermione was as excited as Helen, "Father do they not have their own kingdoms why do they keep coming here?"
"My treasure, we pride ourselves on our hospitality we must welcome our guests in such a way that they must hate to leave, we must make them feel like they are at home. This is how we ensure peace in the world."
"What if they never leave?" Hermione asked
Menelaus looked at Helen for help, she just shrugged
"What if they break our laws?" Hermione asked
"It will be our honour to host a man raised by such a noble king such as Priam," Menelaus told his daughter, "Who knows he said slyly perhaps he may become kin."
Hermione frowned, Helen had later told Menelaus that Hermione was already promised to Orestes and not to joke about Hermione marrying and leaving Sparta.
When the Prince arrived Menelaus took the young man into an embrace, the Spartan King was so proud to host him telling him that so very rarely did they have royal visitors in humble Sparta. Hermione and Helen exchanged an amused glance, there was no Greek King who hadn't visited Sparta in the two years.
"My wife queen Helen and my daughter princess Hermione," Menelaus beamed presenting them proudly.
Helen noted how the prince did not even spare a glance for Hermione, "enchanted," he said and kissed Helen's hand.
Helen felt electricity between her and the godlike lithe Trojan Prince when his lips touched her hand. She felt like a 13 year old again. He was so handsome he almost shone. She felt jealous whenever she saw him speaking with anyone else. The only female who was not enamoured with Paris was Hermione she made faces every time the Trojan spoke.
Once again Helen was day dreaming, the Trojan's compliments and his promises kept her up all night. She stole from Hermione the toy horse that he had brought for her. Helen felt no guilt Hermione didn't care for it preferring still the lions and swans her father would hand carve for her. The girl was just like her father fiercely loyal and committed to honouring both sides of her family.
Once again there were three people in her bed again. Helen tried her level best to exorcise the Trojan from her mind but it was futile exercise. She had grown up hearing about her mother's adultery and also how her husband's mother Aerope also was an adulteress. She had to be strong for Hermione's sakes, who would marry Hermione if all three women in her lineage were adulteresses? Also Menelaus did not deserve it he was a good man and he was her friend she did not want to hurt him.
The truth was that she felt something blossom inside her that she never felt for Menelaus, she loved him but as a friend, she was not in love with him. The passion, the spark it just was not there. It was there with Paris. All it took was a look a touch, it would alter her entire mood and it took over her entire day. She no longer wanted to be a bird she no longer went to the aviary.
Menelaus would always call her over to spend time with him and Paris as the king and prince exchanged stories. Sometimes Menelaus would even leave them together, suspecting no evil. She would do her embroidery as Paris told her fantastic exotic tales, stories that had no reason but they sounded so beautiful.
Menelaus was indecisive, he could afford to be Sparta was founded on fertile plains and Agamemnon, the Lord of Kings and King of men was his brother, no one but a fool would risk the wrath of Agamemnon and thus everyone humoured the red haired King. Menelaus preferred things that were definite ad absolute. The words the Prince spoke of were surreal and hard to imagine. The stories quickly became compliments, which lit her soul on fire, words she doubted Menelaus even knew.
Paris was as open with her as her female company, he needed no reason to speak. With Menelaus there had to be a reason before he disturbed her solitude. He would hesitate before he actually spoke with her. Paris was different he made every conversation memorable even the ridiculous conversations with no substance. Their smiles soon became touches and she wanted more.
The feelings of self-loathing, shame and guilt only disappeared when she was with Paris. Menelaus attended to petitions and solving disputes while Paris and Helen shared stolen glances. He did not look surprised when she showed up at his quarters when Menelaus was hosting a messenger Helen knew she should be with Menelaus it could be about Clytemnestra.
She reasoned with herself that she was here to talk, she had seen Paris leave the feast early with a servant girl. She had tried to follow them but Hermione had pulled at her gown and pointed to the messenger. Hermione had reassured her daughter that messengers were not to be feared.
She told herself that she was a friend seeking out the company of another. She pushed open the door, he looked at her with open admiration. Yes friends she told herself. After ten years she could read Menelaus like a book but the Trojan prince… he was an uncharted map. And she wanted to explore. That was the chief difference, she knew Menelaus better than she knew herself but this Trojan he was a mystery and he was pleasing to her every sense.
"My lady," he greeted her getting up from his bed
Helen cast a glance around the room for female company, satisfied with no evidence she bowed her head, "My honoured guest from across the sea," she said as he kissed her hand.
"To what do I owe this pleasure," he asked as she pulled away from him and with a swing of her hips she was at the desk, as she picked up a half written letter addressed to his father King Priam,.
"Oh," Helen exclaimed as she cut her finger on the letter.
"Allow me," the gallant prince offered as he took her injured finger into his mouth, startled Helen pulled her hand back he deftly caught her hand and kissed the finger which had sustained the cut.
Helen leaned back against the desk, "that is highly improper," she said pulling her hand back blushing from head to toe
"It is my motto, to kiss hurts better…"
Helen noted that he was towering over her his eyes raking over her body. Helen shivered she swore she could hear Clytemnestra. She remembered the messenger.
"I should go perhaps my husband has need of me," she murmured and placed a hand on his chest to push him away
"As soon as I saw you I knew you were mine, just like my goddess promised" he told her clasping her hand and kissing his way up her hand, her arm and he would have continued but she was a Spartan she knew how to handle unwanted attention.
"I am married, or did your goddess not tell you?" she asked him with a small demure smile as she freed herself from his grip gracefully.
"Then why are you here?" he asked eyes half hooded still not moving back his hands on either side of her on the desk but not touching her
"To talk," Helen said and looked at anything but the Trojan, the bed, the statues the rugs, Menelaus left no cost the room was luxurious.
The Trojan stepped away, Helen guiltily missed his warmth.
"Perhaps when my husband is done with the messenger we may speak some more," she took just a step away before the Trojan reacted.
She felt an arm around her waist and lips at her ear. It was a weird sensation being held in such a manner by a man with no beard, is he a man? Helen wondered, when the Trojan kissed her neck she decided that he was definitely not a boy. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, he sighed in rapture. "How many languages can you speak?" Paris asked
Helen counted in her head as if it was the most natural thing in the world to be held in such an intimate manner by someone who wasn't Menelaus.
"Do you speak the language of love?" he asked kissing her neck
Helen frowned maybe he was a boy after all.
"For someone who is here to talk you are not saying much my lady."
Helen twisted in his embrace to tell him to let her go when their lips met, Helen felt like her bones had turned to liquid what sorcery was this? She could feel her body stir when they kissed.
When they broke apart the Trojan smiled at her wolfishly leading her to his bed, Helen followed, admiring his lack of caution.
When he pulled off his tunic Helen's eyes widened but she got on the bed she was going to do this she needed to do this. There was a hunger in her that she needed satiated.
She trailed her fingertips down his bronze taut skin it was unmarked as was his unlined face. He had no burdens no worries he had no past he was blank slate. Oh how she ached for him she looped her arms around his neck and he laid her down. once again he showed no hesitation as he expertly undid the knots holding her robe together, his hands easily finding her curves.
It was when her ring caught in his hair did she realise what she had almost done she apologised and fled back to her chambers. She got on her knees and prayed to Mother Hera for strength and guidance she took a bath and she waited for her husband. She would make love with him to forget the Trojan. When her husband arrived with red rimmed eyes and a downcast face she learned that his beloved uncle had died and that there would be no making of love that night.
She joined her husband and her daughter for prayers for the soul of her husband's uncle. Helen bit her lip and shivered every time she thought of the feel of the Trojan's lips on hers, his hands all over her, how hot his breath was against her neck, how his skin had felt under her hands how close she had come to tasting forbidden fruit. Her husband draped his cloak around her assuming that her shivers were from the cold and not her desire for their royal houseguest.
When her husband's ship sailed for Crete Helen and Paris took the earliest opportunity to flee Sparta. It was a mad adventure. Unlike Menelaus Paris was light hearted he was not weighed down with responsibilities and constant worry. She could barely recall a moment when Menelaus' brow wasn't creased with apprehension.
Paris' carefree kisses on her neck and other parts of her body were a refreshing change from the chaste kisses of her husband. It was cruel she mused to have her married to a man so different from her for ten long years. Whereas Paris and she were so alike, they were light footed and fancy free they were quick to laughter and they made love at any given opportunity.
Helen decided not to despise Aphrodite for making her waste ten years with Menelaus, for withholding true love from her. This was worth it. Maybe good things came to those who waited. Helen finally decided that being married to Menelaus made Helen love and appreciate Paris even more. She knew what love was now, it was this crazy, heady, uncontrollable desire to be with Paris no matter what. He made her forget the world when she was in his arms. She was so happy she had never felt so euphoric.
Oh how he made her body sing and how her soul soared. Once and just once had she experienced something akin to this with Menelaus it was after a feast of Dionysus it was when she suspected Hermione was conceived. Menelaus had been so affectionate and attentive, he could barely keep his clothes on or his hands off Helen. Helen had been quite impressed with his lack of restraint how he declared that he would set the world on fire if he ever lost her how he would destroy himself to keep her, how he would rather be alone than without her. She had felt something for him that night, it was very different from respect, admiration and friendship. He however had been so ashamed of what he'd done that the very next day he banned Dionysian feasts from Sparta. She never felt that strange feeling for him again after that night. She pushed the thought of Menelaus her good soldier out of her mind.
Perhaps there was a distinction to be made some men were fathers and husbands like Menelaus and others were lovers like Paris. There were things that Menelaus excelled at and there were things that Paris was good at. If she had met Paris earlier perhaps she would never have wed Menelaus. Helen would follow Paris to Tartarus if need be, his words they were like honey so cloying so addictive, she craved to hear his words of love. He had a way of making her feel like she was the only woman in the world.
Helen did not regret leaving Sparta. This was the life, Paris by her side. How could something so beautiful so perfect so splendid be wrong? Paris had told her that their union was blessed by the gods. Helen did not dispute it how could she? Nothing stood in their way, what was the point of life if not the pursuit of happiness? She did not care that she was giving up being a queen she did not care that she was giving up her good name and reputation. She only felt bad for the hurt that she was gifting Hermione and Menelaus. She just was not designed to love them the way that they loved her.
She respected and admired Menelaus, she did not want to hurt him nor her little Hermione but it was not fair lying next to Menelaus and wishing it was Paris. Menelaus always preferred the truth no matter how much it hurt that was how he was. He deserved better, he deserved to be loved the way that she loved Paris. One day he would understand, one day he would find true love that was her gift to him, freedom to find true love. Hermione was better off without her, maybe Menelaus' next woman would prove a better mother than Helen could ever hope to be. They both deserved better than Helen. She never understood how they could love someone who was so deceitful and unaffectionate as her. Perhaps if she had never met Theseus she could be a good mother and wife. Perhaps.
They were at Troy in 3 days. Helen was surprised when she was told that she would have to wed Paris, she had never even considered the idea. They said that if she did not then Menelaus would have a legal claim to retrieve her. Helen dismissed the idea, Menelaus was so soft-hearted he would not pursue her, he would understand that this was what she wanted. He had a kingdom and a young daughter to take care of he would not tarnish his reputation by trying to retrieve a scandal in the shape of a woman. Why Agamemnon could rewrite history say that Menelaus had deserted Helen first. Of course no one who met Menelaus would believe such a far-fetched lie.
Helen was however quickly swept up in the magical moment when Paris asked her to be his wife. She had laughed and told him yes as if she never wanted anything more. It was different from her first wedding. Instead of Leda's scowling face Hecuba was smiling happily. Instead of Tyndareus' pleased face she saw Priam's worried one. Instead of Clytemnestra and Agamemnon's happy faces she saw Hector and Andromache disappointed faces.
Helen often heard a name accompanied by snickers, Oenone she paid it no mind, that Paris deserted his wife and child after Aphrodite dangled lust in front of his eyes. Even the priest at her marriage to Paris had looked disappointed as he omitted the word "lawful" in their marriage rites.
Slowly Helen encountered even more scowling faces and she heard more words, adulteress, whore, child abandoner, two of a kind and cuckold. However those who spoke those ugly words were a minority as she was soon crowned with a title, Helen of Troy. She was so proud of it, it was something that she earned.
Queen Hecuba said that Trojans were hard to win over but once they accepted you, you were theirs forever. Helen lost her heart to the people and to her new family. She finally felt like she belonged. As long as she avoided Hector and Andromache she could believe that this perfect family was created just for her.
Helen and Paris lay limbs entwined gasping for breath as they celebrated each other's body. She regarded Paris, her lover, the giver of immaculate indescribable pleasure. Her back arched and her hair slicked back with sweat, chills down her spine she smiled at him before she claimed his eager mouth.
"Relax," Helen told him, he was slow to relinquish control he liked it fast and Helen wanted them to take their time. She told him that there was a difference between making love and fucking. Though he didn't tell her verbally that she was right she knew he got her point eventually. They were now married there was no reason to rush, it was no longer treason if they were caught.
Helen felt like she was in a dream this was too good to be true, were the gods truly this kind to mortals? They spent their days just in their love bubble, Helen did not know such delights, she was just a woman in love, and Paris had made this possible for her. Truly no one in the world loved her more than Paris he had risked everything for her she was truly blessed by Aphrodite to find love.
They did not come from Sparta alone, Paris did not like to admit it but the thought of Menelaus pursuing them loomed over their love and thus he shared their bed with them. Helen tried to reason with Paris, what was a woman compared to a Kingdom? Helen was certain that her husband of ten years would be more than content with her dowry. She was the first woman to leave an unsatisfactory marriage and Menelaus was the one man in the world who would understand her and let her go.
Of this she was sure, he was no Agamemnon he would not risk everything for one such as her. Their marriage was one of duty and alliance there was nothing between them apart from friendship and the responsibility of raising a beautiful inquisitive daughter. And truth be told the daughter preferred her father's parenting to her.
Everything had worked out so perfectly for her and Paris thus Helen was convinced that Aphrodite was taking close interest in their love. The first fight that they had was over children. Paris had accused her of still being in love with Menelaus Helen had been shocked and denied it immediately silencing Paris with a kiss and they made love. It distracted him from his accusation until the next time.
This time he came armed with 'proof' he said that she did not want to marry him and she did not want to have children with him and if Menelaus came for her she would happily return to Sparta . Paris was red in the face and on the verge of tears. Helen distracted him with her body wondering where the boy was getting such fantastical ideas!
Helen told him that she did not want to marry him because their love was strong enough to exist without vows. That her marriage with Menelaus was a promise made to the gods and to their families and not to each other. that once Helen and Paris chose each other that her former marriage was null and void. She told Paris that their love was more substantial because it was between them only.
He had smiled happily and told her but we are wed.
"Yes we are," Helen agreed, neither spoke the word that was as large as an elephant in the room, lawfully.
"But children Helen," Paris pouted.
"Motherhood was not easy for me she said, I was married so young to a man I could never love. I did not enjoy it..." Helen was surprised at how easily the lie slipped off her tongue, she wed Menelaus at 18 and she loved pregnancy and she did love Menelaus, but as a friend. Though she was not as close to Hermione as Menelaus was she did enjoy motherhood and every milestone of her daughter was etched in her memory her first word, her first step, her first milk tooth, her first scrape, her first tantrum…
"But Helen I am not him maybe you could enjoy it more because it is my child."
Helen patted his cheek remembering Menelaus rocking Hermione and Hermione happily giggling in her father's arms she could not imagine Paris as a father. Even Leda who despised Menelaus and called him the lesser Atrides shed a few tears seeing how Menelaus doted on Hermione. She tried to imagine Paris change a diaper. She stifled a giggle.
"What?" he asked frowning like he usually did when he was about to accuse her of thinking about Menelaus.
"You are a child yourself why must you insist on my having to raise two children Paris?"
"Why you!" Paris had laughed and tickled her before peppering her face with kisses she succumbed to her desire for him. He dozed off spent. She ran her hand through his hair, a pang of guilt in her gut, the reason she did not want children with Paris was because she felt like some women were not designed for motherhood just like some men like Menelaus were born to be fathers. Paris was just like her, it would be unfair to a child to have Paris and Helen as parents.
Helen was trying to catch her breath, still caught in the afterglow of post coital bliss when Paris ran his hands through her tousled hair. The sensation was pushing her towards the realm of hypnos. She did not want to go every moment with Paris was precious.
However her mind had other ideas, when Hermione was born Helen had dreams of spending hours braiding her daughter's hair. When Hermione started speaking she would tell her mother "no" and "don't" One morning Helen had been deeply hurt by her daughter's rejection.
"But why? My dear daughter," Menelaus asked from behind his scrolls, "your mother does such a wonderful job."
"Why must I have my hair tied if father does not? His hair is longer!" Hermione crossed her chubby arms across her chest pouting and frowning, Helen could not tell where she began and Menelaus ended looking at Hermione in that moment.
Helen was not about to tell her child the true realities of the harsh life ahead of her. That she was a princess she would have to marry for alliance, for peace, possibly to a much older man from an enemy kingdom. Oh her poor sweet girl what if she was wed to someone as vile as Theseus in his later years? It was a man's world and that Hermione would have no say in her life. Helen held the hairbrush wondering what to say.
Menelaus had come to her rescue and scooped his daughter up and kissed her as she let out a squeal of delight, like Helen, Hermione too enjoyed the idea of flying as free as the birds in the sky. The closest and safest way to fly for the Spartan princess was in her father's arms
"Praytell Hermione of Sparta why should father not have his hair braided?" he asked and sat down on the chair that Hermione had just been seated on at Helen's dressing table. Helen exhaled in relief as long as Menelaus drew breath Helen need not worry, no harm would come to Hermione.
The little girl shrugged seated on her father's lap she pulled open her box of hair nets and ribbons. Helen had braided her husband's hair she paused catching his reflection in the mirror as he smiled at her she shook her head and smiled back at him as their daughter industriously picked out ribbons for her father's braids.
Helen pushed that memory out of her head and reflected on how in Troy Helen was truly free. She thought about her lovely Hermione and how she must still have maids fussing over tying her hair into elaborate twists. Almost everything reminded her of her little girl.
If only she had brought Hermione with her she sighed. People thought that the reason she did not bring Hermione was because she did not love her daughter that was the complete opposite. She did not bring Hermione for three reasons, Hermione loved Sparta, she did it for her people, she could not take their pride and joy away from her people. Leaving Hermione was a sacrifice that she made. It was the hardest decision. The final reason was Menelaus. How could Helen deprive Menelaus his daughter? The man lived for his family he had no ambitions or goals but to ensure that his family was safe and happy. She was not that wicked.
"Are you thinking of him..mione?" Paris asked
"Yes," she said, "I should have brought her," Helen sighed
"Let us lose ourselves in love Helen, I assure you she is happier now, she must be eating sweets for breakfast and staying up past dinner. She's living her best life, having adventures."
Helen let him distract her from the dull ache in her heart, wasn't adventure that separated her from Clytemnestra and how she ended up in Athens in Theseus' bed? No, Menelaus would never let harm come to Hermione. If she did not believe that she would take the first ship back to Sparta.
Helen and Paris were laying on a hill overlooking the harbour his hand squeezing her thigh she sighed and leaned into him. She pulled his arm around her shoulder and stroked his neck as she leaned up to kiss his cheek. She caressed his bare chest and pulled his hand to rest on her shoulder she squeezed it so that he could know what she wanted. He stroked her bare shoulder with his thumb. She found it comforting whenever Menelaus used to do it she angled her head so that her temple was where his lips were, she waited patiently but when no kiss came she looked at him quizzically.
"I love you," he told her earnestly
"And I you," she told him Helen could sense another talk coming she pulled away bracing herself for words instead of hungry kisses that usually led to her clothes on the floor. She really missed being kissed on the temple and or the forehead.
"Are you sure?" Paris asked hesitantly
"More than anything," Helen replied lips pursed. Hesitancy was something that was innately Menelaus it did not suit Paris.
"What do you love about me?" he asked
"You sound like a nagging woman," Helen complained. Where was the Paris who was willing to fight Hector to keep her by his side?
"Why do you love me?" Paris wasn't deterred.
"Why do you ask?" Helen asked irritated, Helen knew she should be impressed with Paris standing his ground but she was not, just as she was not impressed every time Menelaus would give in to Helen's demands.
"I heard that Menelaus is amassing an army to take you away from me," Paris stated with despair.
"Oh don't be silly my love," Helen gave him a dazzling smile, she stroked his chin with her thumb. "Besides the sheer absurdity of my deserted indecisive and non-confrontational husband actually fighting for something in his life what has Menelaus got to do with whether I love you?" Helen asked.
The only time Menelaus had ever fought for anything was her hand. He had struggled and toiled competing with older and stronger suitors for Helen's hand, no one worked harder than him. When it came to personal interviews with Tyndareus and the elders he had impressed them like no other. That tenacity he used to win her hand he used to govern Sparta and provide security for Helen and Hermione. Tyndareus was very pleased with his replacement.
"They say that you are a spy for Menelaus," Paris said looking away
"You don't trust me?"Helen asked sitting up, "you of all people think that I am a vassal of Menelaus? That I am loyal to him? I love you Paris you and only you!" Helen willed Paris to look at her but he refused. Helen was shaken to the core. She was not loyal to Menelaus! She had violated their marriage vows she had deserted him she had humiliated him. What on earth had gotten into Paris? She had made Menelaus a laughing stock of the whole world. How could Paris doubt her?
"They say he is brave, intelligent and much admired that even Odysseus holds him in great regard," Paris spoke softly.
"Yes, my sweet love, that is not disputed my former husband, the fiery haired son of Atreus is indeed a great warrior and you know how welcoming he is, he had a… nightmare of a childhood he thus dotes on anyone who darkens our doorway to return the favour Sparta showed him and Agamemnon in their time of need." Helen knew what this was about, Paris was jealous of his cousin Aeneas. No one trusted Paris or respected Paris. Menelaus had trusted Paris and look what it got him Helen mused. Maybe the Trojans were onto something.
Paris's cheeks were flushed. "Darkens our doorway? Helen do you still consider him your husband your… your," his voice dropped to a desperate whisper, "lawful husband?" Paris asked his hands clutching Helen's arms looking into her eyes searching frantically for answers.
"Of course not sweetheart," she said shrugging him off and patting his cheek, "I called him former husband or were you not listening?" Helen knew about Oenone, Paris' first wife and mother of his first born child and only son, Corythus. Helen unlike Paris had some knowledge of civics, until and unless Menelaus and Oenone both died, Helen and Paris' union was not lawful.
"I bet he has perfect hearing, they compliment his physique too," Paris grumbled.
Helen was getting annoyed she wanted carefree Paris not insecure Paris, had she wanted this she would have stayed with Menelaus and his inferiority complex and self-esteem issues. Menelaus was haunted by the idea that he was evil and despite his battle skills, his good looks and his intelligence he felt unworthy and even deferred to others even his lesser such as Paris for advice.
"Well?" Paris whined
"What?" Helen snapped back wondering not for the first time why she had left Menelaus, Hermione and Sparta if she had to soothe another man's fragile ego. At least with Menelaus she didn't have to work so hard his governing skills, approval ratings from their subjects and battleground wins spoke for itself.
"Do you love me?" Paris murmured
"Yes a thousand times yes! Paris, I left my daughter for you what more proof do you want? I left with you because of one reason- I fell in love with you and that is my truth!"
Helen hated this line of questioning, Menelaus never asked her stupid questions. Sure he assumed a lot of things- wrongly but he never irritated her he could always sense her needs such as when she needed to be alone or when she wanted company. Luckily for Paris she was so in love with him that she wanted nothing more than to be in his company preferably making love. Unfortunately he had a knack for asking stupid questions.
"But why?" Paris asked a pained expression on his handsome face
"Because I love you?" Helen asked in confusion how was this a mystery? Helen married him Helen shared his bed Helen laughed at his stupid jokes Helen could not imagine life without him. Was he mad why was he asking obtuse questions? What else proof did he want? An old woman had spat on her two days ago saying that the lust between her and Paris would bring down the fall of Troy. Why would she endure such disrespect if she did not in fact love Paris?
"What is it about me that you love?" he managed to ask eyes downcast. Helen recalled a hazy memory, Menelaus also in the early days of their marriage when they were becoming friends he would share painful memories and look down like that. That was before Menelaus started assuming things and because she didn't want to hurt his feelings about his misconceptions, she didn't correct him, she didn't want Menelaus to be sad he had suffered so much.
With Paris she could talk about anything, he was so carefree he didn't care so deeply about things as Menelaus. Paris unlike Menelaus did not crave certainty and resolution. Talking with Menelaus would sometimes lead to uncomfortable truths, tears and promises that she knew could never be kept such as his promises to love her no matter what.
Unfortunately speaking to Paris was not an option, his responses were so juvenile that she didn't want to talk to him about anything that truly mattered. So she started writing a journal. Each entry started off addressed to daughter where she wrote her thoughts and feelings and questions about life. Occasionally she would address Menelaus in her journal but she would scratch out his name when she was done, she did not want another pointless fight with Paris she knew he read her journal sometimes he would repeat her thoughts back to her. Fighting with Paris always led to make up sex so she was not too opposed to fighting with him.
"Oh," Helen exclaimed, "I love that you are impulsive, adventurous… I love your light-heartedness your light footedness… I love how you love love… how you love life how you love me I love…"
Paris interrupted her with a kiss, they made love on the hill unaware of the thousand ships approaching Troy.
The end.
Hope you liked it!
Credit to David Farr's Troy: Fall of a city, for the aviary idea and some of the Helen dialogue such as she married Menny young and could never love him and that she left her daughter for Paris and that she was no vassal of Menelaus, as well as "sharp & intelligent" and helen's comment about some women not being designed for motherhood.
The sleeve clutching is a Headcanon of ours that is based on an illustration where Helen is pulling a blushing Menny's sleeve who is dressed for battle.
Mostly everything is adapted from Canon.