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War sat atop the rubble of Troy’s once-mighty wall, watching the waves of the Aegean Sea drift along the beachside, kissing the the morning sky in the process. Though, you could hardly tell it was morning, as the black smoke of the previous night’s carnage was blocking out much of the beautiful sunrise.
If Apollo was real, one might think he was hiding in shame. Or in fear. After all, War was the one who brought this mighty scourge to the city’s gates. Whether it was indirectly or otherwise, it was all her doing. How clever those Greeks were, a wooden horse as an offering to the gods. It was almost touching to the Horseperson in question. Almost.
She stood from her rocky seat and brushed off her chiton. It was stained with the blood of a thousand lost souls all slaughtered in such a short time. It always impressed her how quickly warfare could level a place, and after this grand battle, it would be a miracle if anyone could recognize the pile of burning rubble as the legendary city of Troy. Normally, it wouldn’t matter to War what grand work of humanity fell during her little games, as it would all rot away and crumble one day, but Troy was different.
No, it wasn’t Troy that was different. It was the players of this particular game who were different.
The names of many of its key players would be idolized, remembered for all time. Odysseus, Achilles, Patroclus, Agamennon, the Ajaxes, Paris, Menelaus, War had seen them all, met some even, impressed by some of their skills on the battlefield.
But, to her, only one player would be worth really transcribing into the sands of time. Helena, her sweet Helena, was the crowning jewel of the entire war. Later generations would know her as Helen of Troy, Daughter of Zeus. But to War? To War she was Helena, princess of a long-forgotten city and her first love.
How War’s time with her flew by.
Love me, love me, say that you love me,
The first date for any young couple was special, but even more so for a being such as War. She had never experienced a feeling like the one she felt when she was with Helena. Her heart would race, her cheeks flush, she felt like she could run around the entire planet thrice over if her princess only asked.
But for now, War would slow down. Be totally still as Helena braided newly blossoming flowers into her hair.
“If only Demeter could see the beauty her creations are so blessed to touch.” Helena hummed as her fingers glided through War’s rosey locks.
“You’re too kind, you know?” War said as she turned to look at her. She gently caressed Helena’s face, rubbing her cheek tenderly with her thumb. For all her worth, War had never touched a human like this before. She had taken soldiers scalp by the roots and slashed them with her short blades. She had dismembered their twisted limbs from their mangled bodies. She had even felt the thrill coming from the terror in their souls. But never, never had she felt the warmth of a woman’s cheek and the adoring gaze in her eyes spread all over her skin.
“I only speak the truth, dear Scarlet.” Helena pressed her own hand against War’s, closing her eyes slightly as she leaned into her touch. This only made War turn a brighter shade of ruby red than her hair. “In all honesty, you’ve been on my mind constantly since the moment we met.”
“I feel honored, princess.”
“Between the two of us, I’m just Helena.”
The two of them had a power dynamic only in appearances, as War couldn’t exactly spill the truth about her true power to a mere human, royal or not. Royalty was only an artificial godhood among mortals, after all. And War was anything but artificial. She was a fire that could reduce cities to ash. She was louder than the roar of a lion. War was part of humanity’s beginning, and would one day be part of its end.
A truly sweet smile curled its way into her cherry-stained lips.
“Helena, how beautiful.”
But for now, she was a woman in the comforts of another woman. A woman she wouldn’t dream of letting go of.
Fool me, fool me, go on and fool me,
“I’m getting married.” The two of them were meant to meet for a picnic in the palace garden, just like they had been for the last four moons. There, Helena had once said, their only witnesses would be Artemis and Aphrodite, and War thought her smile when addressing the goddesses was too cute to correct her. But tonight? Tonight their happiness was cut short.
“What?” War asked, lifting her head from where it laid in Helena’s lap.
They had spent a lot of that night in silence. Helena hadn’t been very chatty, and normally she was so bubbly and fun to talk to. She’d joke about the boring lessons her tutors would have scheduled every day, or how drab her father’s choices in suitors for her were. She always had a certain knack for making War laugh. But tonight? Tonight she was quieter than a mouse, only asking to play with her Scarlet’s hair. And even then, she seemed distant. Well, now it was clear why.
“Married? To who?” War asked, taking the princess’ hands.
“King Menelaus of Sparta.” Helena let out a deep sigh. “His brother Agamemnon had married my sister, Clytemnestra and now he wishes for my hand.” War frowned as she saw Helena’s usually bright eyes filled with nothing but melancholy. Those eyes had brought her so much joy, and one sorry human man ruined it completely. It made War wish her hands were being put to better use, strangling that sad-excuse for a king instead of having to comfort her Helena. “I don’t love him. I’ve only met him once, at my sister’s wedding.”
War had met him, his brother, their father, his father before him, all fine warriors. All powerful, in their own rights. Had they had different connections to one another, War may have even slightly respected them. But, for Menelaus daring to come between her and her love, War wanted nothing more than to mount his bloody head on a pike.
If there was only another way. If there was only-
It hit her. It hit War like a million volts of lightning all at once. The perfect plan.
War pulled Helena to her feet, holding her close under the moonlight. If Artemis was their witness, then she may attest to not seeing even an inch of distance between the two. Helena found herself buried in War’s long red locks, weaved between her shoulder and the wildfire atop her head.
“Run away with me.”
Helena’s eyes went wide at War’s request. No, not request, plea. She pleaded with the princess for her to toss aside everything she ever knew and escape with her. To stay with her.
“We could go anywhere our hearts desire, together.” War said, her voice shaking ever so slightly. Not even the throws of battle had brought such a sound out of her. But this was worse than battle, this was love. And love was a war that War refused to lose.
“I.. I can’t.”
That wasn’t the response War was looking for. Her blue eyes met Helena’s brown ones, they were already wet with tears.
“I can’t do that to my family, Scarlet. They’re my blood. I have a duty to them and my kingdom as a princess.” She pulled her right hand up and kissed the horseperson’s knuckle. “I understand if you don’t want to stay with me because of my choices.”
War blinked once, twice. Then, she started to laugh. Her laughter rang out almost like the sounds of a wounded hyena.
“I’d never leave you, I promise.” She said as she pulled Helena close once more.
War had once always kept her promises.
Love me, love me, pretend that you love me,
Had Famine or Pestilence or Death seen her like this, they’d call her a fool. Following a human woman to the ends of the earth. It was embarrassing for a being like War, master of chaos that she was, to be chasing a human all the way to Sparta. But love worked in mysterious ways, and at this point War was convinced she was in love with the now-Queen of Sparta.
Under the guise of a chambermaid, she would slip in to see her Helena. How beautiful she was, dressed in royal garb dripping with gold and silver. If War didn’t know any better, she’d think she was one of Heaven’s flock. But she did know better, and she knew Helena was a thousand times more divine than any angel.
Now, War was the one braiding things in her love’s hair. But instead of the tender buttercups of her homeland’s garden, Helena’s long inky black hair was adorned with precious gems and the finest silks woven through it. But, for all the finery, Helena had only been able to gaze upon War’s eyes through the mirror infront of her and see any worth in them.
“You’re in a good mood.” War smiled, planting a kiss on her bare shoulder as she finished stringing a row of pearls in her hair. “Any reason in particular?”
“We’re having some company tonight. Prince Paris of Troy. Isn’t it exciting?” Helena said. “It’s too bad Menelaus couldn’t be here. Peace meetings are usually his specialty.” War made a sour face at even the mention of ‘peace’. It wasn’t exactly something she would ever be fond of hearing about.
“Yes, what a tragedy.” She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t bring herself to fake gag. Helena’s smile was more than enough incentive to play pretend. She pretended for a lot of things. Like how she pretended not to see how much Helena actually started to like her husband.
“Do you think I’ll make a good conduit?” She asked. “All I want is to do the right thing for Sparta.”
War ran her fingers through the ends of Helena’s hair and lead to her face, turning her head so she would face her and planting a tender kiss on her lips.
“Oh, Helena,” War whispered. “you’ll be wonderful.”
She knew humans were capable of great things, incredible things, and she could feel it radiating off Helena even now. Power. Raw power. It was a pleasant daydream of War’s to imagine her as the next mighty warrior queen to be inscribed in history’s novel. Can’t you imagine it? Mighty Queen Helena of Sparta. Perhaps she would be a dealmaker, a puppet master, a good ol’ fashioned swordsman. Just the thought of it made War’s heart race. She did later on learn she had a thing for women in power.
But for now, her love was still only Helena.
“Promise to see me tonight after dinner?” Helena asked. While Menelaus was away, War would make sure to keep the royal bed warm. It was all she could ask for, to lay with her queen.
“I wouldn’t miss a second with you.” She chuckled, kissing her once more.
It was a shame, that dinner wouldn’t end the way War had envisioned, with Prince Paris leaving alone.
Leave me, leave me, just say that you need me,
The Trojan War had raged on for more days and nights than either women could count any more. Helena sat against a cold stone wall, in a room barred off from the outside world, with only War as company. No finery, no flowers, only a broadsword in the red rider’s possession and the single golden ring that Menelaus had gifted Helena upon her finger.
“I’m sorry.” War spoke up, her voice weak. “This is my fault.”
“Scarlet, don’t talk like that.” Helena chastised her. “This war is not your doing, no matter what you say. If anything, it’s mine.”
How wrong the poor Queen was.
War wanted to scream. She wanted to tell her everything, everything about who she really was, about her purpose, about how she-
How she put her in danger. Just by being near her for so long.
Helena’s kidnapping hadn’t gone unnoticed, no. Her husband raised an army for her rescue and she wished for nothing more than to return to him. But the first person to see she was gone, the one who was meant to sleep with her that night, was War.
War had been the first one to race to Troy, sneaking in over the wall, to come to Helena’s aid. The moment she found her, she swore to slaughter the vile, awful man who had stolen her away. But before she could, Helena had pleaded that she not put herself in danger of persecution and await Menelaus instead. He would solve everything.
It hurt more to pretend that Menelaus wouldn’t do the same thing War wished to do, only so Helena could believe in him. So much for not loving him.
“I’m a fool, aren’t I?” Helena asked. “I’m a fool for ever believing I could outwit Paris. Now look where we are.”
“You did your best, Helena.” War set aside her sword which rested gingerly in her lap. She took Helena’s face in both her hands. How those beautiful dark eyes had changed her. How they had changed in all the years they had been together. “You did everything in your power. But this.. This was something you couldn’t control.” No, because it was something only War herself could affect, whether she liked it or not.
“You believe in me so much, Scarlet.. Why?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” War asked. “I love you. I’ve always loved you.”
“You deserved better than me.” Helena chuckled quietly as War brought her close, connecting their lips.
It would be the final time they shared such a sweet moment.
I can’t care ‘bout anything but you.
War watched the final ship set sail for Sparta at daybreak. The ambush on Troy had been enough to end the fighting, and bring Queen Helena back to her people. Back to her husband.
To say she had been thrilled to see Menelaus was an understatement. She embraced him the same way she had once embraced War. It hurt to watch, but War was good at pretending by now.
The two parted ways, as Helena escaped to the ship. She pleaded for War to come with them, to be free with her again. But War could feel it deep inside that if she did return with her, only more misfortune would fall upon her. Helena deserved better than that. She deserved a happy life, after everything she had been through.
And so, War remained as Helena and Menelaus returned to Sparta. She watched their ship sail farther and farther away until she couldn’t even see it on the horizon any longer.
Her red smile, stained with blood and the taste of her first, fell just like the walls of Troy. Her eyes, as blue as the Aegean Sea, swelled with tears. Her breathing, always steady, even in the heat of battle, spiked as she began to whimper.
War, one of the Four Horsepeople of the Apocalypse, started to weep for the very first time.
For once, she envied humanity. How sweet it must be to love someone, have them love you back, and be able to stay by them without putting them in harm’s way.
Helena, oh sweet Helena, you did so much more to history than you ever knew you would. Afterall, you taught a being of chaos how to love. And isn’t that the most impressive thing a human could do?