what would happen helen is able to talk with circe in the times of trojan war?

In the tenth year of the war, Circe escapes from Aiaia, the island where she was exiled to see Helen, and comes to Troy, after Hector persuades Paris to come to war.

I am Circe. I am a goddess of sorcery (pharmakeia) skilled in the magic of transmutation, illusion, and necromancy. I am Circe. My aim was never such great things, but out of the lovelessness and indifference I saw, I did what the gods call mistakes. I am Circe. I am the first of the children of Perses, one of the nympha daughters of Oceanus, and Helios, the sun god. I am Circe. Because of my voice similar to a human and my different eyes, I was constantly ridiculed by the gods, never even loved by my own family. After the birth of my siblings, I was far from being the favorite of my parents, now I was completely disgraced and had to go on with my life as it was about to be forgotten. I am Circe. I am a witch in a male dominated society. I am Circe. Actually, I am just a woman with a human side. I am Circe. I have never summoned evil with my spells. I am Circe. I am a goddess who, out of sight, gave Prometheus his last drops. I am Circe. I fell in love with a mortal from the sea. Then I confronted my father, the gods and the titans to make him immortal as myself. I committed a crime for my love. I am Circe. When the man I fell in love with became immortal, he left me and ended up with one of my sisters. I am Circe. I am a witch. Out of jealousy, I turned my sister, the beautiful one, into a seven-headed sea creature. I was punished by the gods. I was driven. I started living alone on a small island called Aiaia. Centuries passed, people, gods, loves came and went. I have always remained the witch of Aiaia on this island. Even though I was the firstborn of Helios, one of the most powerful titans, I did not have an innate power, at least not until I became aware of my own strength. I, the present me, am a mage, but I couldn’t cast my spells right away. To prepare my spells, I gathered branches, infused poisons, dug up the ground and pulled the roots of trees out from under them. I did not have the necessary knowledge to make potions by mixing all these ingredients, but I learned little by little by trying. I am Circe. I cannot burn with my eyes like Helios, I can’t shoot lightning from my hands like Zeus, but I can prepare complex potions for you that you can learn only when it’s too late. Sometimes I was witnessing the birth of the Minator, befriending Hermes, listening to heroic adventures from Odysseus, but eventually the years passed and I was left alone again. After all this, beautiful Helen, I came here for you in the same way that I matured and ran away from the Aiaia chapter of my life for my sister. We are in Troy with you. Take a look outside those walls. I see fear in your eyes. I see in your eyes a hatred for men’s warfare. Beautiful Helen, you are not just beautiful. You are a smart woman. You are not the reason behind all this, you know that. It is not love for you. Do not take them as poisoned arrows uttered by a witch. That is why I am telling you my life story. I was cast out of the realm of the gods for the sake of love, but it was love that I was driven out for. Not the person I fell in love with. The gods punished me to satisfy their power. And now all these men, from Paris to Agememnon, are fighting for one thing. A power struggle under the guise of honor. Lightning strikes, perhaps seducing hera zeus from within a cloud. I am old enough to guess now. I, who was born weak from birth, can now see what happened with my powers. You shouldn’t blame yourself. You should not even feel sorry for Paris, which you fell in love with and ran away from. Because they do not think about anything other than falling in love with themselves, what they are doing for their ego even though they say they’re supposedly doing it for you. Are you still in love with Paris, tell me beautiful Helen? Or have you seen this truth in this decade as one of the women of trojan, one of the women in the world, that your love is important, but not so important who you fall in love with? I am Circe, dear Helen. I am a sorceress witch. How easy is that for me to say, isn’t it, Helen? You think so, I guess. As I now paint my gradual transformation into a human being, for myself, each of these men on the battlefield just wants to become a god. You — I know these conditions, even though I have not left the island, news is coming to Aiaia somehow — under these circumstances you tried to seduce Hector. Do not look like that or say you didn’t do it. Because even if you do, I will not judge you, who am I to judge you. Helen, although that is what I am hearing now, can you hear the voices, it’s like a crop field. But the fighters are actually none other than rats. Despite this turmoil of the war, your attempt to seduce my man, you, a sex figure, the most beautiful of the worlds, goes to far lands, Helen. I have to shut up now, do not let the tears flow from your eyes, you have been enduring this bloody war for ten years like the other women of Troy, did you say that when you came to a country you do not know, thinking that you were fleeing from a persecution, it would be like this for the sake of love, while whispering nice words in your ear?

Helen gets up and looks into Circe’s yellow eyes for a moment. Meanwhile, Circe thinks that Helen is not as deep as she thought and thinks that Helen will judge, humiliate and make fun of her from her yellow eyes, what has been said about her and what she is saying now. Helen cried:

I, Helen, for a golden apple the goddesses played a trick with mortals. I, Helen, was presented to Paris against my will by Aphrodite. In fact, it was not even because I was me. I was the most beautiful woman in the world, Circe. When what I saw was not even the most beautiful ones in the world, let alone the most beautiful ones in the world, what they saw was me, but what they saw was my golden hair and body, as everyone said. It all started when I was a little girl, nobody asked me about anything. Some called my marriage to Menelaus a dream, others likened it to drowning in a river in the land of Hades. Paris kidnapped me, Circe. When I get out of his spell, I understand better what happened, or I ran away with him. No matter what I say now, I will be the reason for this bloody war in the eyes of the whole world, even after centuries. Maybe songs will be sung about it, even if I do not live or die here in this room maybe by my ex-husband, this war is not about me anymore. But you are right, I tried to seduce Hector. You better understand me, Circe. They call you a witch, at least do what you are told. Maybe they will call me a rogue bitch, but there must be something I can do in this hideous power struggle. You are right, Circe. Aphrodite and Paris deceived me, I fell in love with Paris. First his body, then his words. Now, after ten years, after seeing what happened in this palace and bedroom, after having to live, those spells in my eyes are gone. What I see now is as real and impressive as the war next door. I did not decide myself whether to fall in love with Paris or to be a bride to Menelaus. I just fell in love, after that the knot was broken. And now, as the Helen of Troy, all I want is to be Helen. Actually, I would like not to be among the games of the gods and goddesses, I would like to come with you to the island of Aiaia and become a witch. Wherever I am to be myself, there I must live and die. I, Helen. I am playing a victim because this is my right. Despite all that I have been through, all the good days, it’s my right to use my beauty and delicacy, which is said to be my strongest trait, in this unjust war. I am Helen, and Circe, your yellow eyes are perhaps more precious than my beauty. I am Helen, your human-like voice is more important than my golden hair and slim waist. I, Helen, cannot be mad at all the women of Troy for seeing me as the reason why their husbands went to war, even though all the women of Troy hate me. Because at the end of ten years, it is hard for me to see myself as innocent. Whether you say that I pity myself, play the innocent, Circe. Because I judge everyone, including myself, even Paris, Hector, and even the gods and goddesses, judge me, Circe. I am actually a witch, the shouts from the streets of Troy show it. I am Helen, I am a witch. I am Helen, a witch who at least accepts that we are in a patriarchal society and tries to play her cards accordingly.