#Its 3am here but I'm checking the others later because damn this is AMAZING! I'm really interested now! :D

[blueflipflops]

God I love how you describe the stress and tired weariness of Odysseus. The frustration and anger and grief of Helen. Both of their guilts oh my. Its very delicious i love it. Oh and the flow. So steady and reeling in those emotions. What a great story teller. Oh there it is. The anger. Oh, tell her Odysseus. That's what I need more to see. The anger and frustration from 10 long years in a war he didn't even want to be part with. Like oh my god i forgot his son was literally just born when he was ordered to bring his men to war. God, 10 years. 10 years without being able to push back and when they finally able to break through Helen just had to call him cruel? Oh boy... she's not wrong but boy are they in bind. Neither wanted any of this. Oh I love how you play the outside pov of Odysseus' reputation. 'Sacker of Cities' must hurt. Oh i forgot they were IN LAWS lol how could I forget Penelope was a Spartan?

'Infants no older that he was...' omfg the CHILLS. I'm thankful Helen didn't ask omg i don't know how to react to that pls don't ask. Whether it was Odysseus or Neoptolemus, it would never be easy to hear that. Least of all from Odysseus if it was him who did it.

Oh I loved it! Love how Odyssues looked over his shoulder when Helen talked about gods playing games with mortals. So subtle so descrete but really grabbed my attention. Ah the burden of being 'blessed' by a god's attention. So alike yet different. The one who started the war and the one who ended it. Both with blood of many on their hands. The titles that mean so much more. The begrudging respect and understanding between the two that no one wouldunderstand. The guilt and pent up frustrations (because 10 YEARS ! They spent 10 years there—) is so delisciously well written escpecially the slow steady pacing that emphasizes these emotions i love it!

Although I have a few questions, if you don't mind haha, so uh... In the Odyssey there was a part where Telemachus visited Melaneus and Helen then Melaneus started telling stories on how Helen like, did something on the night before they ambushed outta that horse. One where she knocked(?) On the horse and started mimicking the soldier's wives voices telling them to go out. Saying that the soldiers would've gone out early if it wasn't for Odysseus' warning. What's your perspective on that? Because its a really interesting pov to pair up with the fic. Although theres a possibility of that just being a case of unreliable narrator on Melaneus' part

There was also a part (Although I don't quite remember if it was actually part of the story or not) I think where Odysseus was able to talk to Helen BEFORE the Horse disguised as a beggar or something. Telling her the plan. Yet following up with the scene of her goading the soldiers to come out when she's with her new husband. (guy after paris i forgot his name lol) Which also makes this fic even more delicious to read with that interaction in mind.

Oh btw reading this reminds me, did you think Helen actually fell in love with paris that she ran away with him OR was it like Divine Intervention where Aphrodite messed her mind. I know in this one shot Helen said her mind was played with by the gods but i am curious on what your stance is on it because a lot of people are arguing wheter or not she did this of her own accord because she was young and stupid. But i think the latter is just infinitely more interesting in the narrative pov but also gives her some sort of say and control over herself and actions that the bards of old would often try to silence out of female characters rather than just a stereotypical stupid lovesick girl trope. Makes her more than a damsel in distress, waiting to be saved.

@prompted-wordsmith

This is for you because your small story was amazing so I want to create one in return! And since you want Helen to speak up more here is a little interaction pre-departure from Troy between Helen and Odysseus because why not!

The city hadn't yet stopped smoking from the night of massacre. Helen feared it never would. The smell of burning wood and asbestos was sticking on her clothes and hair; bitter reminder of the events of the night before. Helen didn't want even to think of the lingering smell of blood; metal and water that she had touched. It was as if everything was red now; hands and heart and bloodshot eyes. She hadn't slept that night or the night after it. She feared she never would again.

She could still feel that this was partially her fault; both the beginning and the end of it. She knew the Horse was a farse; a well-staged plan. She chose not to alert the alarm. She had chosen her side once more. And now women and children and men at Troy were laying down dead or worse. She remembered seeing Andromache being dragged out of the city in chains along with other women. They were to be sold as slaves or given as prices to the kings of the Acheans. The once proud queen was now crying woefully; mourning her husband who was killed. She had been dragged out of her husband's tomb where she went to seek sanctuary. That was the ultimate hubris along with her father-in-law Priam who she heard from a conversation had been slain upon the altar he hoped would grand him his life. She heard it was Neoptolemus, the young man who carried the blood of Achilles in his veins and apparently his rage and temper. Who would have known that a child like that could be so cruel and blasphemous? So full of rage? Helen could not see her infant son in her arms as she was taken away. She didn't even dare to ask. For a brief second Andromache raised her head and her honey eyes stuck within her blue ones. The look was almost accusatory as the tears had given her face reddish lines. Or perhaps it was the self inflicted scratches that she had made in her woe. That second lasted longer than it should be before the queen was dragged away.

"That could have been me..." she thought

However her position was not much different. As she was standing at the peer, she was always guarded by a soldier; obviously her husband wanted both to protect her but also obviously he didn't trust her. Helen couldn't say she blamed him but it still hurt. She was seeing Menelaus talking to Odysseus, sorting out the details. Helen watched her husband and her former fiance in wonder. Indeed how strange fate was! How different the two men were! She could tell Menelaus's auburn hair from kilometers away as they were held together by a band around his head. He was well built and strong, seemed dressed in sunlight. Odysseus next to him seemed the opposite. He wasn't tall. He was barely average, a few decent inches shorter than her husband and a good head shorter than her brother-in-law however he seemed wider in shoulder and his chest resembled a wall dressed in a coat of dark curly hair. His head was adorned with black hair that seemed golden under the setting sun: bushy and curly like a ram held together by various little bands that held his curls tamed under his leather headband. His beard was equally bushy and shaggy even if he had obviously tried to make himself more presentable from the night before. His onyx eyes were bottomless holes. The man seemed tired; prematurely aged that day. Helen knew that he had a similar burden to bare with her. How strange indeed, she thought. The man seemed like coming from the night. And yet he seemed darker now; his shoulders seemed heavier than before.

"Take her home safely"

Odysseus's voice drew her out of her daydream. His voice was hoarse and tired. He seemed aged before his years. Helen remembered again the flamboyant young man that was supposed to court her. Sure his eyes filled with premature wisdom and intelligence gave him an aura of age but she could remember his laughter and smile seemed those of a teenager as if trying to persuade people of his actual age. Now that teen was gone. He was a man now; long past that first youth; a Sacker of Cities.

"Otherwise all this would have been for nothing!"

The timbre in his voice; the seer accusation, hurt her much more than anything besides her husband's distrust. No, at least Odysseus...the wise and prudent Odysseus should understand. Menelaus nodded to his loyal friend and shot her with yet another look. Helen couldn't decide if it was angry or closer to sad. As he walked away she turned again to look at Odysseus. The man barely saw her with the corner of his eye but spoke nothing. Helen couldn't bare the silence any longer.

"Odysseus..." she finally spoke, "Why? How can you be so cruel?"

"Cruel?" His voice was full of disbelief, of anger that made his chest rise like the tide

He turned to her walking like a lion ready to pounce. Helen stood her ground though. She stuck her ocean blue eyes deeply within his black ones.

"Cruel?" He repeated, "I've lost my son's first 10 years because of this war!"

"This war wasn't my choice!" Helen felt the need to defend herself against him.

"It commensed because of you!" The accusation was finally spoken outloud, "Menelaus started this because of you!"

"I didn't know he-..."

"YES YOU DID!" Odysseus finally bellowed making her take a step back, "yes you did...you just didn't think!"

He turned her back at her. He was about to leave but he didn't seem done yet.

"The blood of many brave Acheans is on your hands..."

That was way too much. Odysseus should know better than hurt her this way! This was unfair even if spoken through pain and anger. Bravely Helen held back the tears that burnt her eyes. He wouldn't see her weep!

"If I told you..." she began with the best voice she could master, "...that gods play games with us all the time...that they cloud our judgment... Would you believe me?"

Odysseus looked over his shoulder but spoke nothing.

"You of all people should understand" Helen whispered

"What does it matter what I'd believe?"

"It matters to me!" Helen replied firmly. "Please, Odysseus...at least you...at least you should believe me..."

Odysseus seemed ready to reply but the last minute he stopped himself. He chose silence; cruel and cold silence. He began walking away. Two angry tears ran down her white, rosy cheeks. No she couldn't leave it this way!

"ODYSSEUS!" She yelled after him, "you're a hypocrite!"

That stopped him to his tracks as he turned around.

"What?" He asked almost scandalized

Helen was shivering from top to bottom and her knuckles turned white from clenching them too hard.

"Do you think you're any better, Sacker of cities?!" The last one was spat like an insult like a curse, "do you think your hands are clean? You say that the war commensed because of me! That so many Greeks died because of me! Then what about you, Odysseus? What about all the Trojans killed in the city in that bloodbath?! What about all these women and children that are now piled up to be burnt or eaten by dogs and vultures? Who is to answer for THOSE Odysseus?"

Odysseus of Ithaca was frozen in place, shaking in anger but so was she. And she wouldn't be stopped now. She was Helen of Sparta, Helen of Troy, Helen the daughter of Zeus!

"It was your plan, your scheme that got the Greeks inside the holy city of Troy! It was your idea that gave them the way to sack it!"

Odysseus, the eloquent man seemed now unable to respond. He seemed stripped out of his furious anger although some of it was burning inside. Instead he managed to utter

"This massacre wasn't my choice..."

A sound between humorless and mocking laughter and cry came out of her mouth.

"Oh so you tell me you didn't know? You didn't know that the Greeks who were away from their homes, wives and children wouldn't unleash all their piled hatred? Didn't you know they would burn the city that kept them away from them to the ground so it wouldn't rise again?"

He didn't respond. Helen knew he couldn't.

"You say the blood of the Greeks is on my hands. Then the blood of Trojans is on yours!"

Odysseus seemed to have trouble breathing. She had hurt him and she knew it. Perhaps she had simply voiced everything he had in his mind all those days. She could remember how tenderly he spoke of his wife and son. Her husband used to say he identified himself as father of Telemachus not son of Laërtes. Women and children...his son and wife... He seemed ready to either lash at her or leave. However as always The Man of Many Ways sighed and did the unexpected; he spoke again.

"It doesn't matter whether I believe you or not, you know. What it matters is if he does"

Helen took a glance towards Menelaus from a distance. He was preparing the ship. She sighed and returned her gaze towards the man they called "equal to gods".

"But do you?"

"Yes" he finally admitted, "yes I believe you"

Helen sighed in relief. It was her thanking to him

"There is fate between us, Helen..." Odysseus said hoarsely.

Helen didn't need to see his face behind his wide back to read his expression.

"Yes" she replied, "you could have been my husband"

"I am glad that I'm not"

That husky whisper made her look up in wonder. She didn't expect that answer.

"You don't deserve me" the son of Laërtes said, "and I don't deserve you"

He barely looked at her again over his large shoulder.

"I see now why my cousin loved you" whispered she

"And I see why he loved you." Replied Odysseus, "why he started a war for you. Not for his pride; for you. You were indeed worth it..."

He looked at her again for the first time for a while.

"You and I have both blood on our hands" he said grimly, "you, the starter of war, hold the blood of many brave Acheans upon you...while I, the one who ended it, the Sacker of Cities, will have to live for the rest of my life carrying the deaths of Trojans upon me... Women and children..."

He covered his face with his large hand and turned around. He was sobbing.

"Women and children..." he whispered again, "Penelope...my sweet Telemachus...children... infants no older than he was..."

Helen was afraid to ask. She didn't want to know. She had met enough horror for a lifetime. She wanted to move on. She wanted to forget.

"Get home safely, Odysseus" she wished to him, "Husband to Penelope...father to Telemachus. I hope you will get what you wished for..."

"You too, Helen, kissed by the sun like golden Aphrodite...daughter of Zeus. Farewell Queen of Sparta..."

He walked away. Helen heard his voice yelling orders to his men like the expert sailor he was. Helen sighed and smiled so slightly. The title he used...was addressed to her. Odysseus had recognized her admitted her but also signaled her, her fate. She knew now she had a second chance to rectify everything; first for herself and next for everyone else.

The journey had come to an end. A new one was about to begin.

Okay guys I am so sorry I have no idea why or how but yeah...this... I hope you liked it.