#because helen deserves to be a cool pirate okay

[spaceacepirate]

-You will let me do this Paris.

-They will kill us both once they find out.

-At least it will be a proper end then.

Hektor stands on Troy’s walls, part of the army with him, the rest outside the gates. Soon, his little brother will ride out and fight Menelaos in single combat, soon his little brother will most likely die. Menelaos is a warlord, a ruthless fighter. Paris is not. The gates open, a single soldier rides out on a horse. Slowly the horse goes, even Scamandrius could keep up at this pace. The armor is strange, Paris normally wears brighter things, more for show than protection. This looks like one of Hektor’s sets. It is one of Hektor’s sets. Two spears, a sword, a shield, no bow. Paris does not like spears, he prefers the bow. From the Achaean ranks, a chariot rides out, a lot faster, with more flair. Menelaos, armor gleaming in the sun, he too holds two spears, a sword, and a shield.

The Trojan horse has stopped and the rider dismounts. Menelaos jumps out of the chariot. The warriors face each other. A yell from the Achaeans. The fighters clash.

-Sparta trains them well.

A voice from Hektor’s left. Paris. Paris who is meant to be fighting down there right now. Hektor drags him behind a pillar, out of sight.

-What have you done? Who is fighting instead of you?

-She threatened to skewer me with a sword, so it is not really something I did. Besides, she is a demigod, and trained, I am not.

-Helen? You let Helen fight?

-Again, she threatened me.

-Paris!

A scream from outside the city, too deep to be Helen. Paris drags Hektor back to the wall and points down to the battlefield. Menelaos, disarmed, helmet lost and on his knees in the dust, a sword at his throat. Helen, because it truly is her, in stolen armor, stands victorious, not a single scratch on her. On the field, Helen pulls the helmet off and throws it down next to Menelaos, long flowing hair revealed.

-Let this be a lesson to all, mortal and god alike, who claim to own me! I am the queen of Sparta, I am a princess of Troy and I am a daughter of gods. I am not property! I am free! And I will go wherever I please.

The spear crackles with electricity while just off the shore, behind the Achaean ships, clouds gather into a large mass. They disband again and leave behind a small ship. Several nephelae stay behind on deck. Helen picks up her helmet again and turns to the city walls, raising her spear high.

-Women of Troy, this is not your war. If you wish, this is your chance to leave. Join me and you will have a glorious and rich life on the seas.

With that Helen turns away and marches through the Achaean ranks, now once more wearing the helmet and brandishing the spear at any who dare to step too close. She boards the ship and leans over the prow, waiting. The gates of Troy open, a small parade of women leave, Cassandra at the front.

-Did we just lose a sister?

-You just lost your wife.

-And you lost a set of armor. Is that really Casandra?

-What do you mean I lost a set of armor?

-Mine did not fit okay? 

-Paris!

From the walls of Troy a loud shriek comes, although it is not one of fear or pain. Two brothers tussle, the war outside forgotten for a short moment. Their ignorance does not last long. Two weeks later Patroclus will fall from the walls of Troy. A week later Achilles shall drag Hektor around those walls. Soon after Achilles’s death will come from high up on the same walls. Afterward, Paris will fall outside the walls. Troy burns.

Far away on distant shores and foreign waters, Helen sails with her crew of women and nymphs. Some days the dolphins join them, sometimes human, sometimes not. Cassandra does not speak, but she writes and signs, the curse has no effect. They live a rich life, taking over ships and freeing slaves. They find Andromache on Corfu and learn of the end of Troy. They ask her to join them, but she declines, she mourns her Hektor still. Once a year they return to mourn brothers, friends, husbands, and fathers fallen during the sacking of Troy. Helen stays aboard the ship and mourns in her own way.

Every evening they sail into the sunset and laugh. No one owns them, they are free.