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Looking down at the radiant city of Troy from the safety of the palace was Helen of Troy. Helen, the woman who launched 1000 ships. Helen, who made a war that lasted 2 years, with no end in sight. Helen, who was the nightmare of every Trojan and Achaean mother, they weeped and screamed at their sons’ and husbands’ graves because of Helen.
She had thought of jumping off the balcony, then of the punishment awaiting her in Hades. Sighing, Helen returned to her and Paris' badchenbers, the same old, familiar room where she had been imprisoned for two years. The room was filed with expancive riches that would make make any king jealous, a mirror laced with golden and the nicest gemstones of the land, a weaving stan made of the best quality sat in the corner despise all that, Helen couldn’t help to find that the beautiful patterns of the walls were becoming duller each time she saw them. As she layed on the bed, sinking in to the silk shits, she raises, she was not alone.
“Goddess, must you come here to border me even more?” Helen said, her voice a whisper in the wind.
The goddess appeared before Helen, her golden hair glowing in the sunlight from the window, her perfect eyes gazing upon the woman lying on the bed, as her beautiful lips twisted into a smile. “Border you? No, silly girl. I have come to check on you.” She giggled, a sound that irritated Helen to her core.
Helen scuffed, “I don’t need you to check on me, you only make my life worse.”
The goddess snickers, “I have not come to sneak conflict, my dear Helen. But I have come to see how my masterpiece was going.
“Masterpiece!? You speak of me and that Trojan rat?”
The goddess smirked, “My, my, is that any way to talk about your loving husband, Helen?”
“I don’t… love him…” Helen responded, her tone showing a bit of uncertainty, but in her mind, she was right; she didn’t love Paris, she in fact hated him… but in the end, she just couldn't voice it; she was being silenced. “This is all your fault! You, Ó beautiful goddess, you and your blasted son, the one with the bow and arrows, are making me mad!”
The goddess's expression turned darker, her perfect face twisting into a scowl. Helen looked up with fear in her eyes. Angering a god is never wise. “Now listen here, little girl. I’m a goddess, I like more respect. I made a deal with Paris: if he said I was the most beautiful goddess, I’d give him the hand in marriage to the most beautiful woman.” She points a finger at Helen. “I’m just making sure the deal goes smoothly, nothing more.”
Just outside the room, footsteps can be heard. Helen knew who was making noise in the halls; she had developed this ability out of pure boredom. The proud and heavy footsteps were of Prince Hector, the feeble ones with a sense of purpose were of the king, Priam, but the noises that Prince Paris made were of uncertainty in each step; that was what she heard at the moment.
Of course, where the goddess had been standing, there was nothing now. She was left to face the Prince of this blasted city. When the door opened, Helen flinched. Her eyes looked at the new figure. So it starts.
She hugged Paris. “How’s my amazing and strong husband doing?” Her body and mouth worked without her mind and soul’s consent.
Paris gently pushed her off him. “Not as good as I wish I were for you, my dear Helen. Another town burned to a crisp by those savage Achaeans. Their men and children killed their women, to be slaves for the chiefs. Such a tragedy.”
**This is all your fault, to act so high and mighty when you were the one who provoked the anger of the Acheaans.** Helen's mind was screaming, but her face was made into a simple smile. “Oh, Paris, what worries you matters not, for we are safe inside these great and divine Trojan walls! Those that earth-shaker Poseidon and bright Apollo built!”
“You’re right, my love. Nothing else matters, just our love! Love that the gods themselves gave!” Said Paris.
**Love…What a fool.** Helen thought. **This guy could be a joke without even trying. It's pitiful, really… love, what will it do when you are face to face with the man you stole from, my old husband Menelaus? **
Helen's body, of course, threw itself at Paris again. “Oh, my dear husband, you speak with words that are so wise, if we are together nothing else matters!!!”
Paris smirked, wrapping his arms. “You're being really clingy today.” He smiled softly and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. “I’ve been thinking… despite the war, the two years we have been married have been great, you're an amazing person, and I love you, not just because of your looks… so, I want to mark our love, I want you to bear my children…”
Helen’s mind froze trying to process the words that came out of his mouth. *What… NO, NO!!!*
“Oh, Paris, my dearest, that’s the best words that you ever said.” Helen’s arms hugged him more, while inside she was hyperventilating. **"I’LL REAP MY WOMB WITH MY BEAR HANDS IF YOU SPILL YOUR DISGUSTING SEED IN IT!!! I WILL JUMP OUT OF THESE WALLS INTO THE COLD STONE STREETS!!! I ALREADY HAVE A DAUGHTER, Hermione!!! You took her mother away from her…”**
“My sweet Helen, just imagine our child, the fruit of our love… That will be perfect.” He stood there just petting her hair before he opened his mouth again. “I’ve a reunion in an hour… I think that’s the time to do our first try…” He walked her slowly onto the bed.
…
The door closed, and she was alone again. She was motionless on the bed; the feeling of Paris poison moving inside her made her sick, so she just ignored it.
“Pollux…Castor…Clytemnestra…” Helen called out for none. She missed her siblings, the only people who cared about her, not for her looks or status; she missed them more than anything. Where were her brothers now? She doesn't know… if they were alive, they would be in the war… They promised to protect her with everything they had. Baby sister, they used to call her, she would get so mad and tell them that they were all the same age. Oh, how she wishes to go back…
…
After what feels like millennia, she finally got up from the bed, the action costing almost all her energy. Immediately, she fell to her knees, her arms in the air. “Why…” She whispered. “WHY!!!” She screamed. “Tell me, Father Zeus! Why make your daughter suffer for nothing?!” The question dissipated in the cold air of the room. “Gods… if you can hear me… I need power to keep going… to see my daughter…” She was sobbing now. “Please!!! Zeus of all Greeks, beautiful-eyed Hera, Earthshaker Poseidon, Grey-eyed Athena, Lame Hephaestus…and you golden Aphrodite, I'm on my knees for you! Begging for anything you give me! please...
…
But her voice was lost in the wind. Her knees started to bruise as she whipped in the same place for hours… she had to face the truth… no matter how much she whilled and cried to the heavens, no one or no god was going to help her… she was alone… Helen of Troy, the most beautiful woman in the world… Helen of Sparta, the loneliest woman in the world… Helen, the woman who was hated by both Greeks and Trojans….