Author's Note:

This story is a sort of "thought experiment." It asks what would it look like if the Judgement of Paris happened very differently. The primary difference between what is below and the story as originally written, is that in this version, Paris is noble. This means that things such as the dream of Hecabe, predicting that Paris would destroy Troy, and the fact that Paris was married to the nymph Oenone, are still true in the version below.

Hope you like it.

The story of Paris? Yes, I remember it well.

It was a sunny day, one of the first in quite some time. I was in Troy, teaching some of the local healers about the use of boiling water to clean one’s instruments, when I got a message that my services were needed near Mount Ida.

I went to where the message indicated, and saw a handsome man with a shepherd’s crook, and a dog resting his head on his lap. Next to the man were three bundles, all of which exuded a quiet air of malice. I cleared my throat slightly, the man looked up at me, patted his dog one last time, and stood up.

“It is good that you have come, sir. My name is Paris, and I have need of your services.” Paris then reached for a small pouch and continued, “I don’t have much, but I will--”

I interrupted, “No need. I had a good meal at the asclepeion, and resting under the stars requires no coin. How can I help?”

Paris sighed. “I need you to follow me to a place not far from here. From there, you will wait until you see white smoke. Once you see it, follow the smoke, moving as quietly as you can, and wait. What I need from you will become clear quite quickly.”

With no small amount of dread, I nodded.

“Then, sir, let us be on our way.”

The walk was quiet and somber, but short, as Paris lead me to a small clearing to wait. A short time passed, and I saw the small, curving line of smoke in the distance. I hurried on, hoping to avert whatever misfortune I felt from those bundles. I saw Paris standing before three women, who were all staring at him intently, and listening to his every word.

Behind Paris was a pair of stumps, that had a small brazier on one, and on the other, glittering in the sunlight, was an apple that seemed to be made of pure gold. As I crept a touch closer, I heard Paris speaking.

“Thank you for your patience, great and honored ones. I will now render my judgement, but I require one more thing from all of you.”

The women nodded.

“You must not take any action until I say ‘I am done.’ Do you swear to this?”

The woman on the left smiled, and it was as if the world lit up, “I, Aphrodite, swear by the river Styx, to take no action until you say ‘I am done,’ as long as your behavior is honorable.”

The woman in the middle nodded sagely. “I, Athena, swear by the river Styx, to take no action until you say ‘I am done,’ as long as your behavior is honorable.”

The woman on the right gave the slightest motion of her head, as a queen would acknowledge a vassal. “I, Hera, swear by the river Styx, to take no action until you say ‘I am done,’ as long as your behavior is honorable.”

I realized then, that I was seeing history being made, for good or ill. I crouched down hoping I wasn’t seen.

Paris took a deep breath, and picked up the first bundle. It was red and about two feet long.

“Aphrodite, Goddess of Love and Beauty, you incite a thirst in both Gods and men that can only be quenched in your perfect arms. So it is that I say that your body is the most beautiful.”

Aphrodite smiled, giggled just a little, and started to reach for the apple, as the eyes of the other Goddesses widened in anger. Paris raised his hand lightly, but with an authority both immense and oddly regal. “Remember you oath, most honored ones.”

Aphrodite stopped, and the eyes of the other Goddesses changed from anger to confusion as Paris unrolled the red bundle.

It was a sword, but one the likes of which I had never seen before. It was about two feet long, covered in exquisite filigree that almost glowed. Its cross guard was shaped like feathers, and the pommel was forged in the shape of a rose. Paris laid the sword respectfully at Aphrodite’s feet.

Paris then turned to Athena. “Wise Athena, whose insight and cunning are legend, your brilliance shines throughout the entire land. Because of this, I name your mind the most fair.”

As he spoke, he unrolled the second bundle, wrapped in plain blue cloth. The second bundle also contained a sword, but that is where the similarity ended. Where the previous sword was beautiful but lethal, this sword was lethal first and foremost, but also somehow beautiful. It was simple, and longer than Aphrodite’s blade. It had a cross guard that looked like the top of an Ionic column, and a pommel in the shape of an Owl’s head. The blade was well forged and sturdy, with an edge so sharp that neither flesh nor armor could stand against it. Holding the sword, Paris bowed deeply to Athena, and laid the sword at her feet.

Athena blinked once as Paris moved on, and bowed low to Hera.

“Honored Hera, queen of the Gods, your authority and honor are without question, and they give your speech a strength and a grace none can match. And so, I judge that your speech is the most beautiful.”

Paris then unfolded the last bundle of cloth, a fabric that was iridescent, like a peacock’s feather. Inside it, like the other two, was a sword. This one had a blade that was not as long as Athena’s, but not as short as Aphrodite’s. It had a cross guard shaped like a Doric column, and a pommel shaped like the top of a peacock’s feather. Paris took a knee, and set the last sword at Hera’s perfect feet.

Paris then nodded, and drew his own blade. It shone in the sun like glory and strength. He moved to stand before the stump that the apple rested upon. With perfect swipes, he cut the apple into three pieces of exactly the same size. With a flourish, he turned to face the Goddesses, and sheathed the blade deep in the earth.

“So it is that I have pronounced my judgement. Aphrodite is most beautiful of body, Athena is most fair of mind, and Hera has the most beautiful speech. Now…” Paris then allowed his knees to buckle, as he sank to the ground, kneeling. “I am ready for your judgement. May what started here, end here. I...am done.”

Paris then lowered his head for just a moment, and raised it again. His eyes were looking not at the Goddesses before, him but somewhere very far away. We all realized at that moment what was happening.

Paris did not mean to walk away with the love of Aphrodite, Athena, or Hera.

He did not mean to walk away at all.