My Fair Lady

The events preceding the Trojan War.

The waves cascaded across the side of the ship, the sails catching the evening wind. They lurched forward as Aeolia’s breeze pulled them safe into harbor, soon to benefit their destroyers. Troy slowly rolled into view, coming out of the silhouette of the coastal hill. Before them stood the greatest walls in the world, impervious to all but trickery itself.  The crew scrambled below deck, gathering the prince’s many belongings to bring ashore. They emerged with Helen from below deck, standing her behind the royal heir.  Paris’s smile spread across his face as the sounds of home lit up his eyes, more captivating than his beautiful prize. 

“I’ve done it,” he said with pride, and turning to Helen, “I have taken what no other man could keep.”. The crew hoisted up the sails and brought them to dock. They scurried across the deck, exhaustion in their steps, and tied the ship to the jetty. Her eyes watched his feet as he spoke. Confusion ran through her veins and constricted at the thought of movement. Questions raced across her mind from home, whether Paris’s charm in Sparta would last in Ilium. He reached his hand out; Helen remained motionless. A frown grew with each second she did not return hers.

“The royal court awaits us,” Helen looked up at his response, “My fair lady.” he added with a sneer. He knew that she was bound after stepping on the boat, she knew it too. She stretched for his hand and took her steps off the boat. All the crewmen collapsed on the groundbefore them, their bodies spent from the voyage’s extensive rowing. Paris strutted off the boat, his being untouched by toil or effort, every step more haughty than the next. The city wall rose out the earth in front of the harbor, a mountain crafted by the hand of man. Its gold-clad gates drifted open at the sight of the ship: a straight road lead through, extending down to the palace. The whole city lined up on the main pathway, the royal family stood at the gate, anxiously awaiting their son’s news. A chariot came for the new couple, Paris quickly rushed for his place, Helen following silently. Then, the commencement began and the chariot jolted forward.              

.  .  .

After a long night of celebration in the city, the royal court walked into the palace, famished from excitement. Thousands had come to celebrate the arrival of the new heirs, spreading carousal all across Troy, like the fires to engulf their future. The precession of royals returned to the palace as the other denizens continued their festivity. Paris lead the court proudly, standing ahead Priam. Helen came next, followed by Priam’s other children �" Hecuba in the rear.  The company entered into a private courtyard before the palace, Helen stared at it in wonderment, her eyes bewitched. 

“This has been a lovely night hasn’t it?” Princess Cassandra said, turning back to her mother Hecuba. She casted a glum look,  her eyes drifting over to Helen, now clad in the gold the Trojan queen wore as a newlywed. A wave of envy washed over Cassandra through Hecuba’s stare.  Noticing her daughter’s inquisition, Hecuba quickly pulled herself together. 

“It was lovely dear, I only wonder why the Queen of Troy stands behind the boys’ new toy.” Hecuba said, daggers in her words. Cassandra quickly turned back around, her mother’s tone discomforting all who heard. Hecuba quickly strut forward to reach her, where she sashayed in competition, Helen paying no mind to her. The precession entered into the palace’s great hall. A massive table stretched across each end, slowly filling with familiar faces of Troy. Hector and Andromache laughed as they watch their son run around the table, posing as a Greek solider. He tripped and fell and foolishly slung a loaf of bread as his sword.  The family laughed, remarking the accuracy of Astyanax’s interpretation. Helen looked at the ground silently as this happened. Cassandra watched the newlywed as she approached her own seat. Helen never touched her plate, her voice silent throughout the small show. Something inside her stomach wrenched, not at Helen herself, but a spirit that followed her: Cassandra knew the Gods had a vision for her soon. Helen noticed Cassandra’s stare, and the princess quickly turned her head and sat down. Afterwords, Priam lifted his goblet up, calling preparation for a toast. Drunken smiles crossed the table as they quieted. 

“First, I would love to congratulate the new arrival to our family,” He motioned towards Helen in acknowledgement, she weakly smiled back “And as for my…” .

“And as for me, my father, I would love to acknowledge the great power of our people,” Paris cut off his father, who stood without response, “We took what was Greek and made it Trojan. I walked across the manhood of Menelaus as he slept, while I took what was his on my ship. We Trojans, We Trojans are unstoppable, nothing can break our will.”  Paris raised both his hands in victory; his brothers cheered , his sisters clapped. Priam silently took his seat, a smile on his face, but his eyes empty of affection. He  learned to accept Paris’s outbursts, even at his own expense.  Astyanax returned to his Greek impression, Hector joining in with his own bread-sword. Cassandra watched as the two dueled, they laughed, but she grimaced. Every slash and stab burned her eyes, the pain of death overwhelming her. She lifted her hand to her heart. 

“Is  everything alright dear?” Hecuba said, reaching her hand to Cassandra’s shoulder.

“It’s fine, only a chill, probably from a draft.” Cassandra said back, disguising her divine warnings. She noticed an absence at the table �" Helen had gone. Cassandra looked up to see the fair lady glide out into the courtyard, unseen through the commotion. 

.  .  .

Cassandra stepped into the courtyard, curious of Helen’s escape. And there she sat, in elegance, perched at the edge of the fountain. She beamed at her reflection in the water, shifting her hair left and right. She hummed something in Greek, dousing her battered soul in tranquility. Cassandra cautiously approached the queen. 

“This is such a lovely garden, you know, it reminds me of home.” Helen said suddenly. 

“Home, isn’t this home for you now?” 

“For now.” Helen murmured. Cassandra straightened her posture, tension pushing her spine upward. “You are the prophetess, aren’t you?”  

“I am a prophet, yes.” Cassandra said, the reflection looked to her, impressed at the confidence. 

“Well, prophet, why haven’t you seen the future of your city,” the smile faded, “I have.” 

“It’s not that simple, my lady.” Cassandra responded, the reflection looked up, Helen turned around. 

“You feel something though,” Helen stood up, giving her arm over to Cassandra, “Take my hand, you’ll be able to see what I see.”

Cassandra looked in suspicion, but did as she was told. Then, she saw it. Helen’s hand began to burn, small flames escaping her fingers, and Cassandra screamed in fright. She then saw Aphrodite walk across the yard, in the direction of Paris’s bedroom, a golden apple in her hands, clad in a white bridal gown. Beautiful flowers fell from her hair, dying when they hit the ground. Hera and Athena came from his room, guised in Greek armor, torches in hand,  and set fire to the courtyard. Screams and flames ripped around the trees, the grass, more coming from splintering cracks running through the buildings. The palace fell, the city razed, and Troy collapsed. She came out of her stupor a moment later with a yelp. She turned to Helen, who sat at the fountain, staring at her reflection.

“What is this? What have you brought on us!” Cassandra screamed both in fury and fear. 

“Me? What I brought on you? Don’t be like your stupid mother, blind to the death that lays in your halls day and night. I’m merely what men barter, I go to and fro on their will, not mine.  Your father simply watches as his sons arrogantly trounces on the name of his future enemy. His pathetic wife then decides to attack me as her son brings death to this city.” Helen’s power shook Cassandra’s core, she only could stand, bewilderment locking her body in place.

“But, Paris, he never would do such a thing…” 

“Your brother  never should have taken me. He thought he won a war, but he only started one.” Helen interjected. Cassandra stood silently, realizing the death Paris brought to them.