Work Text:
Aphrodite is not vain. She simply loves beauty, wherever it resides.
Beauty resides in tiny, dark curls at the nape of Helen's neck. Elegance outlines the curve of her hip; more delectable still is the hollow where leg meets body. Aphrodite descends to earth for this, a taste of the second loveliest being in the world.
She sees the awed recognition on Helen's heart-stopping face, and it gives her no pause. She takes as she desires, smooth stomach, dark nipples, shivering thighs, and leaves a hint of scent to beautify even more this near-mirror of herself. Then she departs, wordless.
***
Helen cannot move for hours afterward. She has not lost count of the goddess' visits, each time with a different face, each time terrifyingly beautiful and rapacious and new. A thousand suitors in one.
She rises with the dawn, feeling heavier and lighter at once, cut loose from the earth and yet more aware of its pull. When she goes outside today, people will barely breathe, forgetting everything but her beauty: the lush shadow of divinity on her skin. The men will quarrel even more for her hand.
She doesn't care who wins. None can ever match this for love.