#Menelaus

[mushyooms]

it's been snowing lately, so achaean camp in winter

and an older version before i've put 1000 overlays on it

[ochiody]

i really dont want to line this

[lineaup]

That one scene..

Agamemnon: Few seconds ago, I lost my dear brother Menelaus.

Menelaus, bleeding from a noticably non-fatal spot: Quit telling everyone I’m dead! Agamemnon: Sometimes I can still hear his voice…

[holy-mother-of-whumpers]

I also see the similarity and I also have been still working on them.

I think I see them both as the enduring person, both of them taking forever to come back home after forcibly leaving it.

I see them both wearing a (social) mask because Odysseus has to be the warrior and Helen has to be the wife of another to survive.

People will fight about how 'willing' they were being very real here op!

Also Helen and Diomedes, since she was doomed by birth to be the most beautiful - the most wanted and coveted, never to be safe as her kidnapping by the hands of Theseus reveals.

Diomedes was thrown into the fight since he was 4 (by some traditions) to avenge his father, doomed from the moment he died to live his life to make up to it. The his grandfather throne in Calydon. Then Troy. Never free from his duty as Helen was never free from her looks.

She taken from her home, he exiled from his (Aphrodite's curse).

...and they both had a happy ending! She peacefully back home and him founding city in Italy.

And Helen and Menelaos! Younger brothers (in the case of Helen, a hc be warned) to biggest personalities, Agamemnon and Clytemnestra.

I'm saying, if people could stop telling half the story, only the warriors or only the women's I'm modern fake-feminist retellings, there would be a lot to explore among them.

I will do it myself if I have to💪 in fact I plan to.

While their stories are different , Helen and Odysseus are very similar in "roles" of their narratives

Sounds nuts but hold on. I'm also probably wording that weird. but here we go.

Obviously with the time, the culture, and their genders to consider, they ARE very different but there's just...something that's been ITCHING me about them and their stories.

1.) Both of their homes/lovers are "fighting for them". Obviously the Trojan War is about bringing Helen home through the Oath of Tyndarius. (Also, "You kidnapped my wife, wtf?") Menelaus LITERALLY fighting to bring Helen back home. Penelope is fighting so that Odysseus has a home to come back TO.

2.) Paris/Calypso: Cause them both to weep in their stories, literally keep them captive through the means of an immortal/magic for YEARS. People will fight about how "willing" they are

3.) Deiphobus/Circe: Another "lover" where both were just...going through the motions. Trying to survive. Just another day in hell. Shorter amount of time. Both Deiphobus and Circe "defeats" involve someone's "rescuing" (Odysseus rescuing his men, Helen herself being rescued)

4.) Taken away from their home that they didn't want to leave

5.) Missing most of their only child's childhoods unwillingly

Even then, they are technically the CAUSE of each other's circumstances in life. Odysseus made a deal with Tyndarius to marry Penelope. Helen only got to choose Menelaus because of Odysseus' idea. Odysseus had to leave home because of said oath and still tried to resist leaving. Helen is only able to go home (aka the war is over) because of Odysseus' idea again. Both Penelope AND Menelaus leave the place they were born in (Sparta and Mycenae) to rule with their spouses in THEIR homelands. Even with how they're both an "enigma" could be something.

Obviously, they are not each other's "center of the world" but they both have affected each other with their actions (or actions under duress) Same with their spouses.

JUSt... SOMETHING'S ITCHING MY BRAIN WITH THIS skldjf klsdjf MAybe it's a whole "This is how men and women both "fight"" with their expected roles at the time and comparing the two? IDK I feel like there's something there.

Feel free to say something about this if you know more about this topic or shed some light on this or if you just want to chatter about this.

[firstknightvulion]

Is it any surprise I like me some Greek Mythology?

I hate the modern depictions of Helen/Paris/Menelaus.

Menelaus was a nice guy, Helen was manipulated by Aphrodite and Paris is…Paris. Fuck that guy. Not literally, he doesn’t deserve it.

The Iliad be like:

Paris: Any advice for your dear husband as he goes out to duel?

Helen turns to Paris. She is wearing ‘Team Menelaus’ hat, a ‘I love my real husband shirt’ and her right hand is covered by a ‘Menelaus #1’ giant, foam hand.

Helen: Die. Preferably, screaming.

Paris watches Helen stand atop the walls. She raises her shirt, flashing her boobs in Menelaus’ direction. On them is written ‘Kick His Ass, Baby’.

The entire Greek army stares. Except Odysseus. Menelaus gives them the death glare. The entire Greek army awkwardly looks away. Except Odysseus.

I also love the idea of Odysseus and Menelaus being Ancient Greek Wifeguys.

Odysseus walks into Menelaus’ tent. Menelaus looks up hopefully.

Menelaus: *hopefully* Wife?

Odysseus: *shaking his head* Not wife.

Menelaus: *sadly* Miss wife.

Odysseus: *sadly* Miss wife too.

Several hours and jugs of wine later…

Agamemnon steps into the tent.

Odysseus and Menelaus: *drunk and crying hysterically* Want wife!!!

Agamemnon backs out of the tent.

I also also feel like Helen may harbor some resentment towards Aphrodite.

Aphrodite appears in front of the Palace in Sparta.

Aphrodite: *smiling happily* Hey, gurl!

Helen immediately runs up to her and decks her in the face. Aphrodite goes down like a sack of bricks. Helen returns inside. Menelaus looks between the unconscious Goddess and the threshold of his home. After a moment, he follows his wife inside and closes the door. Aphrodite lays there for several hours.

[chelathy]

The sweet cheeses again, you will always be famous Helen and Menelaus

Doodle undercut for funsies

[melodyartist-blog]

Thank you for giving us Menelaus/Odysseus content. I'm starving for more of them they are so fun!! AAAA Amd you draw them so well!!!

(I'm not normal about them haha)

I feel you...

[katerinaaqu]

Well in Menelaus's defense he also spent 7 years shipwrecked so his own mind was not in the best place in the world especially given how he was mourning the loss of his brother AND his nephew turning insane at that point. His sister in law also murderess adulteress AND murdered in cold blood by that same nephew of his. Like the dude was fighting to keep himself afloat in the realm of sanity for many reasons

Two even then he wasn't sure on the whereabouts of Ogygia or even whether the dream was true or not or if it was still in place. Imagine popping a letter up to Penelope like "Oh hey guess what! Your husband is trapped in an island named Ogygia, yeah I have no fucking clue where that place is, all I know is that he is held prisoner, the exact conditions I do not know. He could be having a good time, being tormented or even no longer alive as we speak for hey it has been a long time, maybe he is on his way to you! Cheerio glad I helped! By the way how are things at Ithaca that you are running on your own all by yourself with your son oh your son must be grown by now yeah send him cheerio too since I cannot given the situation!" His letter would be more harm than good in that case

Three who says that he didn't? And the letter get lost, confescated or destroyed? We do not know much on what he did on his way there given the situation and Ithaca was already plundered by the suitors since the year he finally set foot in his land AFTER he had to deal with everything on his own. And Odyssey takes place 4 years AFTER his return.

Telemachus is so much stronger than me for real. Cause if I had traveled for days, by sea AND land, arrived at the palace of my father's friend and my mother's cousin to humbly ask if they know anything about my missing father and instead of just fucking telling me already, this mf started a monologue about how gay he is for my dad and about the time he captured a God that granted him wishes three, I'd already be telling him to Hurry The Fuck Up. IT'S BEEN TEN YEARS, I DON'T HAVE ALL DAY.

But if the same motherfucker then turned around and told me that he had known FOR YEARS NOW that my dad is trapped on an island AND THE MOTHERFUCKER DIDN'T TELL ANYONE!!!! NOT A SINGLE LETTER!!! I would have already strangled Menelaus with that fucking blond hair of his in front of his wife and children, unhelpful son of a bitch.

[ashdiaries]

diomedes…. just because you’re built like a tree doesn’t mean you have to carry menelaus around like he’s your child just because he asked you to. I promise you he can walk just fine

[emmikay]

Menelaus: My girlfriend is so much better looking than me that a cashier just put a plastic divider down in the middle of our groceries.

[1000cavalry]

There’s a bit in the book 4 of the Odyssey that raises to many questions for me.

Menelaus is comparing Odysseus and Telemachus. He says they have similar feet.

Why does Menelaus remember what Odysseus’ feet look like after 10 years? Why are they so distinctive? Why has no one been making memes about this?

[katerinaaqu]

This fic also on my AO3 page!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62370172

The Why never asked and the Because that never mattered

This is a fic I was planning for quite a long time but I wanted to post for the birthday of @dionysism !! Happy Birthday!

Helen was being pulled. That was what she knew because what she felt was an absolute mess inside her like a skein of red wool that was given to a cat to play with and that cat had tangled the thing beyond recognition; it could be that several threads were already severed and yet they were tangled again and again and there was no way of whether they were indeed cut off or not. Helen of Troy, former considering herself Helen of Sparta was feeling a similar way. She was being pulled by the steady hand of her husband covered with his crimson chlamys, not being able to see anything around her but the dirt beneath her feet and yet the sounds that came to her ears; cries of pain mixed with wild triumph wouldn’t let her calm. The smell of fire was also apparent and the metallic scent of blood. She had taken a glimpse of that before and yet Menelaus had chosen to cover her from this. When she was driven to his presence Menelaus was silent. His eyes; those flaming eyes she had missed so much to see from up-close were only staring at her as if he aimed to burn holes into her soul. Helen would stare at him for hours. He had prepared herself for the reunion almost the full decade that she spent at Troy, somehow she knew her husband would come for her; she knew it deep down her soul, knowing his pride, his honor… The moment she lay a foot to the holy city of Troy accompanied by her then new husband Paris, she knew that moment that Menelaus would want to see this city burn. Somehow he had succeeded. She had heard also the plan created by her previous suitor Odysseus. Menelaus and Odysseus had showed up in Troy to negotiate, after arriving at their doors with over 1000 ships. Helen knew. She didn’t need the intelligence she had to realize that if her husband had called upon Odysseus that it didn’t matter what the elders would say. Menelaus would burn the city! Odysseus would help him and do what it would be necessary for victory regardless the price! Seeing the two so mismatched men (one of tall and royal structure with blondish-red hair and honey eyes like the sunset and the other shorter yet immensely structured, hairy and curly like a ram, black of hair and eyes like the night) looking towards her she knew. She knew that these two would make the world burn. Ever since she was preparing herself for the inevitable confrontation with her previous, her true husband… But nothing truly helped when she saw those flaming eyes of his, framed by the blood that had splattered his face, staring at her; blood dripping from his bronze sword.

Helen was looking at him and he was looking at her. Those eyes that belonged to a lion staring upon a beautiful doe in the forest; was something Helen could barely handle. She stood steadfast like the queen she was. She was dressed in a very simple dress without any makeup to her beautiful face and her tresses cascaded down her sides like a waterfall of gold. She had no jewelry on her or anything else to prove her royal status but her fierce eyes; those fierce dark gray, almost black eyes with the small irises of gold that made Menelaus weak at the knees once. However now Menelaus too was staring deep in them and his eyes seemed to be unmoving. Helen had hoped to manipulate some sympathy into her husband so that she could at least save the life of her daughter, Helen, the last daughter she had left from her marriage with Paris. She hoped her husband would see her as a woman now; not as a casus belli. He hoped that at least her daughter would escape his rage. She had never seen Menelaus so enraged before. Never.

“Helen…”

That voice was a throaty growl. It wasn’t human! She looked at his face; she memorized every new wrinkle that the 10 years of warfare had placed upon him. She could truly see him for the first time after a decade. Oh, how changed and how same he looked at the same time! His mouth was tight; the lips that kissed her so passionately before, now were like a tight line, playing and twitching in fury.

“Menelaus…” she forced her throat and lips form the name

Right there and then her voice broke a spell in the air. Her husband had also not seen her in a decade, hadn’t heard her voice in a decade. Then she saw the true meaning of his name before her; The Rage of the People! It was as if the rage of the entire Sparta was gathered in his gaze! His hand clenched upon the sword he was holding and slowly raised it. Fear twitched in her eyes.

“Please…” she croaked out

Menelaus made a step. And another. And another.

“Please!”

For once second her previous courage left her; it was the instinctual fear of every creature before the face of doom. Menelaus raised his sword over his head and then she just felt her knees buckle.

“NO!”

Her scream was unhinged; raw. She threw herself at his feet, getting to grab onto his knees the last second. Menelaus stiffened. He tried to break free but she held him close.

“Please! I beg of you! Have mercy! Have mercy! Let me at least explain myself! Do not do this before I have the chance to explain to you!”

Menelaus growled and tried once more to kick himself free but he knew he couldn’t. His reaction was weak! She realized it was the first time she touched him and, by gods, it was hugging his legs that were splattered with dirt and blood from the city that sheltered her from his rage!

“What is there to explain?!” Menelaus roared, “How can you explain what you did! Ten years, Helen! Ten bloody long years!”

“Please! Have mercy! I beseech you! In the name of our daughter!”

“Don’t you DARE to mention MY daughter!” Menelaus roared, “You left her behind! Like a beast of the forest who leaves their offspring behind to heal your passion! You have no right to bring her name to your wrenched lips! Damn the moment she was born to see the shame of her own mother! You have no right to speak the name of MY Hermione! Not anymore!”

Helen wailed once more as every word he spoke was a knife to her heart sharper than the sword that was now ominously threatening to take her life.

“Don’t…please…!” she cried, “Have mercy…don’t kill me with your words like this! Don’t be so cruel to me! Don’t say this about my daughter! There was not one day in my life that I didn’t think of her! That I didn’t wish she was there to hug her and apologize to her! Please Menelaus! I beg of you…give me one last chance to explain! That’s all I ask! Please!”

“Say what you have to say!” Menelaus growled, “Get up! Get up, woman!”

He practically raised her back to her feet in a violent, bruising grip and yet Helen was intelligent enough to notice the shift in his voice. Her pleading had reached some part of his heart that he dressed in stone. She knew his touch and he knew hers. He knew she was telling the truth. She tried to collect herself and her thoughts.

“I didn’t…I didn’t wish for this to happen, Menelaus. I…the gods have played a cruel game to me…to you…to this city and the Greeks! It was Aphrodite! She promised my hand to Paris! She sparked this cursed feeling inside me! I never stopped loving you, Menelaus! Never, I swear! I swear it upon the life of my children! I have no more sacred oath than that!”

The shadow that passed over her husband’s eyes made her heart stop. It was as if her words only sparked more anger inside him; the anger he was accumulating and nourishing for over a decade of war!

“How DARE you!” he whispered dangerously, “The gods?! Aphrodite?! How DARE you use the gods to mask your sins and infidelity! How DARE you use the name of my daughter for this!”

“Menelaus…stop please!”

“I should have known!” Menelaus ignored her, “The spawn of a woman who felt her passion being sparked by a beast! I should have known better than falling for such a charm! I should have known better than hoping that such a spawn wouldn’t be happy news for me! Cursed the moment I met you! Cursed the moment I married you! Cursed the moment I lo-…”

The word choked in his throat. Her heart clenched. He hesitated to declare his love for her. He hesitated for the first time she ever knew him. That chocked word shocked her much more than his half-blasphemy to her divine father; much more than his sudden action. He grabbed her arm in a bruising grasp, turning to his soldier.

“COME HERE!” he ordered, “Take this woman outside where she will be stoned to death! She will pay for the lives she took upon her! She will pay for the lives she DESTROYED!”

“NO!” Helen now shrieked

Adrenaline gave her probably strength beyond her human capabilities for she broke free from her husband’s painful grip with one violent yank of her arm. Not this, she thought! Any form of death was welcome now that she failed to break through her husband, but not this! She couldn’t die like a common traitor.

“NO! PLEASE!” she begged, “If I am to die, let me die with dignity! Let me die by your own hand! Let me end my own life if you have to! Let me die like a queen! Not like a traitor! Please!”

She violently tore her dress apart. Her naked breasts came in sight. Menelaus’s gaze fell upon them; the way this chest hosted her beating heart; the heart he had rested his ear against so many times, feeling her breathing soothing him! Her breasts remained youthful and beautiful like the day he met her! The years hadn’t withered her divine beauty away!

“RIGHT HERE!” Helen cried, tears running down her cheeks, “Put your sword here right now! I’d rather die by the hands of the man I love than this! Please! Let me die with dignity! You owe me this! Please!”

Menelaus looked at her; the violent palpitations of her chest…and then he looked at her face; her beautiful face scarred by tears and despair; her face that remained divinely beautiful despite the years, no, the years of sadness and agony seemed to have transformed her even more beautiful than before. It was as if her sadness, her GENUINE sadness that she had felt all these years, the suffering and longing, had made her even more beautiful in his eyes. Her hair was messed up, her face pure without any paint or cosmetics; her natural scent that didn’t need any perfumes or aromatic oils to make him longing for her; her body and heart and spirit. How could such a beauty go to waste? How could he destroy this divine creature? How could he destroy the woman he loved?

“ARGH” he roared throwing his sword away, “DAMMIT!”

“My lord?” his soldier asked, “Shall we proceed?”

“No!” Menelaus yelled, “I can’t! I can’t!”

Yes, he realized he couldn’t. He couldn’t kill her, he couldn’t watch her getting killed, and he couldn’t order her death. He couldn’t part from her again!

“I can’t! Damned be my name and my weakness but I can’t see this through! Zeus and the immortals forgive me, I can’t destroy this woman! If I do, I am destroying myself! If I kill her I die with her!”

Helen felt her tears increasing but this time the warm tears were coming straight from her heart; this organ that was pumping her blood steadily but also this wrenched tool that betrayed her after goddess Aphrodite clouded her judgment. She saw Menelaus now; the man she loved and chosen as her husband! Taking a bald step she took his hand, the hand painted in blood and tar. Wetting it with her own salty tears she kissed it. She was placing her life in his hands. There was nothing else she could do; nothing else she wished to do. She felt him stiffen but it was not unpleasant this time. Not like before. As she was bended down, she felt the chlamys covering her head like a veil.

“Dammit!” Menelaus cursed again, “Let’s get the hell out of here!”

She felt her husband pulling her away and fast. Helen didn’t know what her fate would be; what her position would be now and she didn’t expect much but she felt like she could trust Menelaus. More than just her love for him was her trust to his heart.

That had happened quite a couple of hours prior, however it felt like an eternity to Helen. They reached his tent, that much she knew, judging from the sounds of the soldiers around. Beneath her fit she could be the ends of the Achaean tents that were set up very fast just enough so they could pass the night; obviously not like the organized camp they were before thanks to the ploy by Odysseus to pretend they were leaving. Quite frankly most soldiers didn’t even have their tents ready. Just the kings and lords were having some shelter for the night (which was getting over anyways). He saw the material of the tent open and Menelaus pushed her in. Only then his chlamys left her head. Menelaus had spoken no word to her ever since that encounter. She heard him yelling orders hither-thither but not one word had reached her ears that was addressed to her; no words of anger but neither words of encouragement either. She was at least relieved that some of the orders he made were concerning her little girl, making sure she came with them. That seemed enough for her. They entered the cozy environment of the tent. Helen clenched her dress closer, covering herself the best she could. However her husband, half staggered inside, removed his helm and let it fall somewhere. He was feeling crushed and tired; too tired to even bother himself with his armor. His hair was matted, painted in blood. Helen even noticed some white strands coming out of it. How much had he suffered too? How much had the longing and waiting cost him? Menelaus, the king of Sparta, even tiredly half-tripped against his own helm, ignoring its existence on the tent’s floor. A slave rushed to pick it up.

“Leave it!” Menelaus roared, “Out! Everyone out!”

She saw them all run out, terrified by his sudden yell. She stood her ground. She watched him struggle with his armor as if it would choke him but she didn’t dare to come closer to assist him. She felt like he needed his space; what had happened that night was not easy for anyone. Helen still mourned the city; the people who didn’t judge her. She mourned herself too; for feeling happiness being with her husband again even with such a terrible price to pay. Menelaus, finally free from the leather and bronze, he let the armor fall to the floor with a clang. Helen couldn’t remember seeing him this exhausted; this burnt out before. He moved his head, hearing cracking sounds from his nape. He silently went to a bronze bowl of water and splashed plenty on his face and over his hair, in some attempt to make himself presentable. With some of the blood gone, Helen clearly saw the gray hairs in his reddish head; like snowflakes on top of dry leaves. Menelaus…her Menelaus seemed drained and prematurely old despite his face being as handsome as she remembered. She watched him dry himself with a towel, which he also abandoned on the floor. She saw the blood stains on the towel and she cursed herself for thinking “Thank gods! This isn’t his blood…he is not hurt…” The thought brought tears to her eyes. She didn’t want to know how many people’s blood he was carrying on him. Menelaus poured a glass of wine for himself and drank deeply from his golden cup. How strange, she thought, gold and jewelry; how insignificant these seemed now before the face of war and death! How much death had they brought upon this earth! The silence was choking her. She couldn’t stand it!

“Menelaus…I…”

Her whisper was cut off by one move of Menelaus’s hand; a silent order, perhaps a silent pledge. She obeyed. Menelaus once more finished his drink and then he sat upon his couch, or perhaps it was his bed now. Helen saw how, despite the fact the tent was cozy and wide; she noticed the difference of her life and his all these years; Menelaus lived in a military camp for more than 10 years while she was living in the palace. No wonder he was so older than his age now; the sorrow, the guilt, the longing in combination to the conditions he lived in, could have their toll at any man. Menelaus seemed to be taking a breath to speak; as if to collect his thoughts.

“For ten years…” he finally whispered, voice hoarse and tired, “During all these years I had dreamt of this moment, Helen…”

It was the first time he addressed her so softly after a decade. Helen felt her heart palpitating and shivering. His rage before was all forgotten to her. His voice now was making her weak at the knees; the softness of her husband she had missed so much.

“I have played it in my head so many times that I had thought I knew every word I wanted to say or reply to you…” he scoffed humorlessly in self-sarcasm, “But, by gods, now I cannot even find a single word to say! The only thing I can say now -the one thing that tormented me all these years- is… Why, Helen? Why?”

His eyes locked with hers; her almost dark and yellow ones; the eyes that looked like stormy sky plundered by lightning.

“Why did you do this to me? Why…?”

The pain! The seer agony! She could almost see the tears down his cheeks even if he heroically was holding them back.

“Menelaus…I…”

“Yes, I know” he interrupted her, “Aphrodite… By gods, Helen…I don’t know what to believe! However that is not what I am asking…”

She waited. She didn’t even need to speak again to know his intentions.

“Why did you…for ten years, Helen…you waited there for ten years… You saw me nearly slaying your precious Paris…him being saved by gods… You still chose him, Helen…even then…you chose him…”

Then she saw it. One single tear ran down his cheek. His voice broke.

“Why, Helen…” he repeated like a mantra, “Why did you push me to the edge? Why did things have to go this way?”

There were a million things she would want to say; many excuses and true reasons. She could have said how she was still under the influence of Aphrodite. She could have said that she had a family she wanted to protect; her precious children that were not at fault, the children that died so unfairly in an earthquake and the children she mourned. She could have said how grateful she was to king Priam for understanding and protecting her, to Hector who supported her, to Andromache who accepted her. She could speak on the years she spent with these people. She could speak on her daughter, her little Helen, that remained alive…on the fact that they chose a new husband for her against her will. However none of this seemed useful now. Her tears ran down her cheeks again, her throat burning and feeling tied in a knob.

“Does it matter now…?” she whispered, “Would anything I say make things better now after so long? Will this give back the lives to all the Greeks that fell or the Trojans that got slain? Will anything I say undo this disaster we did…?”

Yes, she included him. She knew he would have too. Menelaus called upon the greatest army in the world, he agreed upon a bloody war, he agreed upon a scheme to take the city at night and the slaughter of innocents. She knew he knew he was not innocent; just like she wasn’t.

“No…” Menelaus whispered, “No, it doesn’t…”

His honey eyes locked in hers. She didn’t know what to make of it. His stare was as intense as the needle that pierces through the skin when the healer closes a wound. As if being self-conscious, she clenched her dress close to her chest again. Menelaus followed the movement with his eyes. Then his arm extended.

“Come here…”

It was a soft order; a pleading. Helen moved slowly, taking his hand in hers; eliminating the distance between them. She followed his lead as she slowly knelt before him, looking up at his face. His hand softly touched her cheek. She shivered. The night was cold but his hand was so warm! His fingers traced her cheek; phantom touch against her skin. His thumb trailed her lips. Helen felt more tears running but this time it wasn’t despair. His hand slowly went down the side of her throat, slowly slipping in her dress to caress the flesh of her shoulder. She turned her head by instinct, kissing his wrist. She felt him shiver. There was a soft squeeze on her shoulder; en encouragement to make her stand again. She did. His hands then opened her dress again to reveal her chest. He looked at her for a few seconds and then she saw him come undone, like a dam collapsing, filling a lake with water fast!

“Gods!” he whispered

And his arms pulled her close. It was a desperate embrace! It was the type of hugging a dying man would do to their deity, begging for a few more seconds upon the land of the living! His face buried in her bosom and she felt his wet tears on her skin; his arms, strong and secure, fisting upon the material of her dress and her back. Her own arms by instinct flew around him; around his head and she pulled him in her even further as the king of Sparta sobbed. This time Helen’s eyes were dry. It was as if she needed to be strong for him; allowing him to be weak now, to be with her! His shoulders were shivering from sobbing but he made no sound. He half raised his head only to kiss each one of her breasts. His lips were burning! Her heard raised her pulse. The last kiss was placed right in the middle; right over her heart, hammering against her ribcage.

“Please…” he begged, “Hold me, Helen! Hold me like this…”

“Yes…” Helen whispered hugging his head again, “Always…always…”

The man she loved more than life itself looked up and softly pulled her on his knees.

“Kiss me…” he begged again, “Please…kiss me…!”

The encouragement was not needed. She cupped his cheeks with both her white soft hands and her lips landed on his. She heard him whimper. His hands desperately clasped her hair and the other around her body. He kissed her like his life depended on it; like her soul was being transferred inside him. After ten long years! Finally Tears escaped his eyes. It was as if he was dying. The lip locking lasted a few seconds before Menelaus pulled back and half-fell behind. One of his arms was still holding her but the hand that clasped on her locks so tightly before, flew behind him as if to stop his fall. It was as if his heart had stopped for a small second.

“Menelaus!” she worriedly held onto his shoulders

“I’m fine…” Menelaus panted softly, “I’m fine…”

She used the edge of her sleeve to mop the droplets of sweat off his forehead; suddenly his skin feeling cold to the touch his breath coming out harshly. She could tell something was wrong with him; worry biting her soul like a snake. He tried to stabilize his breath as he looked up at her.

“Don’t look at me like that…” he begged weakly, “Please…not you…not like that!”

Tears burnt again in Helen’s eyes. The daughter of Zeus shook her head negatively, placing a kiss on her husband’s forehead, curling against him like a dove. His arms embraced her tighter than before. Her ear caught the sound of his heart; it was irregular! Only to stabilize bit by bit. She held him tightly as if she wanted to transfer her health to him. She wouldn’t let him go again! Never!

“Hold me, Menelaus…” she now begged back, hoping transferring her need for him would help, “Please...never again! Let me stay like this with you…never let me go again!”

Her palm rested against his chest; against his heart. She thanked all gods of Olympus that the heartbeat had stabilized. She could tell by his breathing and temperature too.

“Promise me…” she urged, “You will not let me go…you will not leave me! Never again!”

It was a foolish wish, she knew, but the deteriorating of his health alarmed her. She wanted him, only him, she would never marry another man again but him. She made a promise to herself that even if it cost her, her life, she would keep this man on this earth. He deserved it! Menelaus softly sighed and held her tighter.

“I promise…” she heard him whisper

There was no more need for words between them. No more reasoning was necessary.

***

Sooo yeah I feel lke we do not have so many Helen x Menelaus fics out there and is a shame given how much of a couple they are and how they have been through so much together! And how their love was enough to forget the years they spent apart!

Menelaus trying to kill Helen but being moved by her beauty or her pleading for her life is a detail mentioned in later sources, also depending on the source he wanted to kill her himself or have her stoned to death! As usually I decided to combine sources! Hahaha! Hopefully this works!

For the scene in Menelaus's tent I was severely inspired by an amazing Greek composer named Kostas Kapnisis (Κώστας Καπνίσης) who created soundtracks for some greek movies including an amazing movie for the greek revolution and one of the heroes taking part in it, Papaflessas. In the movie of 1971, one of the pieces of the soundtrack is called Erotiko (Ερωτικό) aka "erotic" or "of love" or "of eros" and on my word is was just perfect in my head!

Just listen the soft melody! TT-TT So them!

I also wanted to show Helen's strength and intelligence but also the fact that all characters were broken in sadness at that time.

Also Menelaus collapsing, you can see my headcanon of Menelaus suffering from his heart. I had made a small analysis on it you can find it here

Now I can memorize many good blogs here that create really beautiful Menelaus and Helen art. Some of those that I know and follow are @thehelplessmortals for some more historic style and others like @smokey07 in a more anime-like style. I must say Menelaus definitely needs more love out there! Both for his friendship with Odysseus as well as for his relationship with Helen and the reconsiliation they had!

Now the design for Helen I had in mind was blonde woman due to beauty standards plus how it is generally much rarer color especially for south Europe also Dares the Phrygian elleged account also names her as such but honestly I have seen great designs of hers looking amazing in red or brown or black hair! The eyes of hers (dark gray with sparkles of yellow) was a totally random thing in my head maybe to connect her with Zeus. Just a random idea I had this morning!

[azuvist]

The Victory of Greeks

[simoondraws]

"The horse and the infant"

[dootznbootz]

Hello, I want to ask this question but I don't want it to sound disrespectful, I really want to know and I'm not trying to be rude.

Why are Helen and Menelaus one of your OTPs? I mean, at least the versions I know Helen falls in love with Paris and willingly goes to Troy with him (but I have to say that this was told to me, I didn't read it from any legitimate source, so I could be wrong) so I'd like to know what makes you love them! And that's all, I hope you have a nice day:3

YIPPEE! :D First of all, I wanna say thank you for being polite and genuine with your ask :3 I really appreciate that you seem to be coming from a genuinely curious perspective and want to know why! I hope you have a lovely day too <3

And then~ Ima put some links to other posts of mine (AND some other lovely folks) that discuss Helen and Menelaus and the whole thing with Paris. Most have text evidence :3

I have made the ones that I think are most important to read in bold

Menelaus in the Iliad talking about how Paris stole Helen

A fantastic essay written by another Tumblr user (deactivated now. you will be missed!) that delves into the reality of Paris and Helen's relationship alongside Paris as a person

My own essay about how Odysseus and Helen play "similar roles" in their stories. I'm assuming you've found me through my Odyssey and Water Wife stuff, so you're probably an Odysseus fan so this kind of delves into how I, personally, believe that Odysseus and Helen mirror each other in many ways plot wise. So if you are also in agreement that Odysseus couldn't have cheated because cheating requires consent, Helen is basically in the same situation. Paris is just basically having Aphrodite strongarm Helen for him.

My Own personal feelings on Paris

A neat essay on how, narratively, the story fits into the themes of the whole Epic Cycle and the Iliad if Helen was actually kidnapped

Some stuff on Menelaus being a soft man in canon :3

My Own post delving somewhat into Helen's unwillingness with some text evidence

I recommend reading most of these (or at least the ones that intrigue you) and then I can chatter about these sillies below 🥹

So in canon, just for the Iliad and the Odyssey, Menelaus is often portrayed as a quiet, shy even, and I would even go so far as to call him gentle, man. (It's kind of a collective fanon headcanon that Menelaus is austistic coded based on his behavior in the texts) It's something really interesting that one of his epithet's is "War Loving" and yet, he's one of the more "peaceful" kings there.

Adrestus rolled out of the chariot beside the wheel, face down in the dirt. Menelaus, son of Atreus,                        stood there over him, holding his long-shadowed spear. Adrestus clutched Menelaus by the knees and begged: “Take me alive, son of Atreus—you’ll get good ransom. My father is a wealthy man, owns lots of things—bronze, silver, well-worked iron. So he’ll give you a splendid ransom, if he learns I’m by Achaean ships, alive.”                             Adrestus pleaded. Menelaus’s heart in his chest was moved. He was about to hand Adrestus to his attendant, to take back captive to the fast Achaean ships.           But then Agamemnon came running up to him, sharply criticizing Menelaus:  “Menelaus, you soft-hearted man, why are you sparing men’s lives like this? In your own home, Trojans treated you exceptionally well, did they not? So don’t let any one of them evade a terrible destruction at our hands— not even the young child still carried in his mother’s belly. Let no one escape.                         Let everyone in Troy be slaughtered, without pity, without leaving any trace.”    

(Book 6, Johnston)

Like the main reason WHY Menelaus is fighting this war in the first place and fighting so hard, is because he just wants Helen back. Literally the most "violent" we've seen Menelaus is, imo, during his fight with Paris, the man who kidnapped Helen and is forcing himself upon her. As he literally starts DRAGGING Paris by his helmet on the ground. And when Paris offers Treasure in place of Helen, Diomedes' declines on his (and technically all the other Achaeans') behalf as Menelaus was injured.

And if you've looked at the bolded links I put above, you'll see how Helen also desperately does not want to be there and just wants to go back home, missing Menelaus and their daughter, Hermione.

And with Helen, she literally basically tells Paris that since he would've lost the fight with Menelaus, therefore would've been killed, if not for Aphrodite, that he should kill himself because that's what's honorable.

“You’ve come back from the fight. How I wish   you’d died there, killed by that strong warrior who was my husband once. You used to boast you were stronger than warlike Menelaus,  more strength in your hands, more power in your spear. So go now, challenge war-loving Menelaus to fight again in single combat. I’d suggest you stay away. Don’t fight it out man to man with fair-haired Menelaus, without further thought. You might well die, come to a quick end on his spear.”  

(Book 3, Johnston)

I honestly fucking love how Helen straight up says to Paris' face that she wished Menelaus killed him. Deserved.

In some ways, I think Paris is a very neat contrast to Menelaus in how Paris left his wife and child behind to start a life with a new "better" wife, while Menelaus is willing to go to war to bring the wife he loves so much back home, safe and happy, with him. Menelaus can't even think of the idea of just "starting anew".

And in the Odyssey, it's just... It's just so sweet seeing how these two interact when Telemachus goes to Sparta to talk to them. Helen is no longer in tears, and while she's still dealing with her self-loathing and guilt, so does Menelaus. They share this burden together and are very gentle with each other. The way she's back to being so happy and hosting as a happy Queen and wife should, is so SO different from how we see Helen in the Iliad, as she's finally happy, safe, and at home. 😭

Like, please look at how silly these two are when they see Telemachus:

Right away she started speaking to her husband, asking him some detailed questions:                                   “Do we know, my divinely cherished Menelaus, who these two men who’ve come into our home claim to be? Shall I speak up and pretend, or shall I tell the truth? My heart tells me                            I must be frank. I can’t say I’ve ever seen                            someone who looks so much like someone else, whether man or woman. When I see it, I’m amazed—this man looks just like the son of brave Odysseus—I mean Telemachus, who, when he left home, was a new-born child, when, because I’d acted so disgracefully, you Achaeans all sailed away to Troy, your hearts intent on brutal warfare.” Fair-haired Menelaus then answered her and said: “This likeness you’ve just noticed, my dear wife,               I’ve seen, as well. His feet are similar, as are his hands, the glances from his eyes,                                              his head, and his hair on top. And just now, as I was remembering Odysseus, discussing all the troubles he’d endured because of me, he let a bitter tear fall from his eyes and raised the purple cloak across his face.”

(Book 4, Johnston)

Like??? She feels free to speak and state her mind because she IS free with Menelaus. She feels respected and loved in her own house and is the queen to his king and slkdjf kljdsfalj THEY'RE HAPPYYYYYY

In the Odyssey also, it was she who interpreted the omen that Telemachus and Pesistratus even though Menelaus was asked to interpret it! ANOTHER EXAMPLE OF HER HAPPILY BEING A QUEEN AND HER AND HER WORDS BEING RESPECTED.

Menelaus, for all his warlike qualities, was at a loss to give him the correct interpretation, and his beautiful wife forestalled him. 'Listen,' she said, 'while with such inspiration as I have I explain this omen and what I feel sure that it portends. [...]

(Book 15, E.V. Rieu)

LOOK AT EURIPIDES' HELEN

Like to me, these two in canon are kind of "opposites attract" while OdyPen are "Likeminded". As Helen is definitely one to chatter more and Menelaus is perfectly fine letting Helen talk for him.

And while young, Menelaus and Agamemnon after their father, Atreus, was killed by their uncle, they had to flee Mycenae to stay safe and were exiled. And where did they stay during this time?

In Sparta, WITH TYNDAREUS AND LEDA, HELEN'S PARENTS >:3

And with most depictions of Menelaus and Odysseus when getting married to Helen and Penelope, both are usually beardless, implying youth/same age. So I love the idea of them being childhood friends to lovers. (that's just MY interpretation though) It's part of the reason why Helen picked him out of all the suitors (though yeah, another interpretation)

AND look at this depiction of them reunitiing!!!

So for the context for this specific version/interpretation of them reuniting, he has just killed Deiphobus, Paris' brother that Helen went to after Paris died, (Troy was fated to fall, if Helen was returned, Menelaus and the other Achaeans would go home and Troy would be left alone, so... Fate interfered with Helen even possibly going home) and she was in the room when it happened. Helen, being somewhat scared that Menelaus would try to kill her, started to run. (That's Helen on the Right, the left is supposed to be Aphrodite, who, while she did keep Helen in Troy for Paris, is still the goddess of love. So that's why she's there.)

BUT LOOK HOW HE TOSSED HIS SWORD TO THE SIDE TO RUN TO HER?! 😭

In general, I love the dynamics that play into their relationship AND how their relationship even plays with other characters like OdyPen. I'm not as detailed with their lives as I am with my OdyPen, they're still heavily involved in my ideas and they're all very close. They go on double dates!

Heck, since I have the whole "childhood friends" stuff in my stuff, Helen, Menelaus, Penelope, Castor, and Deiphobus all grew up together and were kind of a goofy lil crew :3 (I have aged up Clytemnestra to work with my Agamemnon more with how I have my timeline work out :') The timeline is a mess and this is how I'm making it work)

Like, My OdyPen are my "Freak4Freak, Likeminded, ADHD, squirming, wriggling, giggling, nuzzling noses and constantly moving and chattering" couple while my MenHelen are my "Slow and relaxed, long kisses, Helen chatters while Menelaus listens, Menelaus is Helen's weighted blanket person who eases her anxiousness with his quiet demeanor, staring at each other with big eyes." couple 🥹

Snippets of my goobers being affectionate in their own special way, my OdyPen one from my one longfic and my MenHelen is just a snippet I wrote recently.

OdyPen squirm and wriggle while MenHelen stare at each other with big eyes and are each others safe place.

My dear friend, @thehelplessmortals (One of MenHelen's super fans! Check em out if you're even more curious about them! they have their own fanart and headcanons for them too!) doodled my version of the goobers being silly. My Helen is Chubby and 6'4 (Zeus' child and most beautiful woman in the world) and she likes to wrestle, and Menelaus is 6'2, she can pick him up >:3

"DAD, I WANT THIS ONE!"

Also~ Here's my list of Odyssey translations I've gathered :3 Feel free to pick one if you ever wanna read the actual text.

[inflamedautistic]

The Iliad is probably one of the funniest books I ever read

Like I'll be having a not-so-good day, then remember how Hector had given himself an entire pep talk to fight Achilles. He saw Achilles running full speed towards him and proceeds to just book it.

Or when Menelaus got shot by an arrow in like in an ultimately nonfatal spot, and Agamemnon begins prematurely mourning him while he's standing there like 🧍‍♂️” you're scaring the men.”

Or when Odysseus is walking around the camps with a royal scepter and is just beating people with it if he finds them packing or suggesting to leave.

Or when Hector is brainstorming on how to face Achilles and for a moment goes, “Maybe I could talk with him, we’re both princes, we can both be rational, I could reason with him… that's a horrible fucking idea.”

I have more, but these, in particular, really tickle me.