Chapter Text
to the girl whose face launched a thousand ships,
your song has been sung long before i was born, and will be sung long after i am gone. back in your days there was not a soul who didn’t know your name; today, nothing has changed. at some point, be it for an external imposition, be it for a thirst of knowledge, we all stumble upon your story. everyone knows what you’ve done, and many feel entitled to hold it against you. you, who are gone, and yet bound to history with an unbreakable bond, that is equal part bless and a curse.
how hard is history when it comes to condemning someone. how blind is it to the courage of your gesture and how deaf is it to the sound of your heart breaking in the middle of a battlefield?
everyone speaks about how you charmed your way into the Poet’s words — way back when they mattered the most — but no one ever bothers to wonder why. they refuse to see your reasons; a woman with such a comfortable position, daughter and sister to gods, and half a goddess herself. the prettiest there ever was. why would she run away? why would she embrace the uncertain, the forbidden, and give in to the promises of a foreigner?
forgive them, child, for they do not know. they do not know what history does to women. they do not realize that a golden cage is, in fact, still a cage. and that you could never be tamed, only worshipped. they do not understand, or perhaps they don’t want to.
know, however, that your song is changing, for it is us who are singing it. and we see.
you were never just the girl whose face launched a thousand ships, you were a storm. a galaxy confined in skin.
and darling, cities may fall, but you never will.
sincerely,
c.