A girl was laying in her bed, shaking as she twisted and turned from the nightmare she was suffering. A loud roar woke her up, and she shot up in her bed, gasping as she tried to grasp reality and escape the lingering memories of her nightmare.
The girl, Helena Valka Haddock, hugged her knees close to herself as her breathing slowly calmed. She ignored the loud noises that came from outside her window as she sighed and placed her chin atop her knees in sad thought. Her medium length reddish-brown hair tumbled over her shoulders gracefully, lighting up from the moonlight peeking in through the window. Her bangs stopped just over her spring green eyes.
This event has happened at least once a week for as long as Helena could remember of her 15 years of life. It was always the same nightmare, always waking her up with depression tugging at her fragile soul. The nightmare? Her life.
Everything went wrong from the moment she was born. She was the younger child of a set of twins. It had been quite the surprise to her mother, Valka Hildegard Haddock, and father, Stoick Vast Haddock. She was born two minutes after her twin brother, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III. They were born early and were quite sick; Gothi sadly promised that one of them would not survive. And with a sick twist of fate (in Helena's opinion), her health increased quickly, while Hiccup died within days. It just about killed the village. Helena knew everyone want a boy to be in line to become Chief, not a girl. Several villagers went as far as calling Helena her brother's murderer.
When she was only six months old, there was a dragon attack, one of the worst Berk had seen in years. While Stoick was trying to lead villagers to safety and warriors to success, Valka had stayed behind to protect her baby girl. Stoick had rushed towards the house seeing a dragon breaking in. But before Stoick could do anything, the dragon made off with Valka, leaving behind a heartbroken husband and crying, abandoned daughter.
Stoick was never the same afterwards. He had reservations about his daughter before, but now he grew cold. The blacksmith of the village, Gobber, was good friends with Stoick, and he took it to himself to raise little Helena. She became his apprentice in the blacksmith shop and was quite good at making weapons, just not strong enough to use them in battle. He made sure she was fed and clothed and healthy and progressing in the process of growing up in the tribe.
As she grew, the insults became worse. She was beaten up every day by other children her age: Astrid Hofferson, Tuffnut and Ruffnut Thorston, even her own cousin Snoutlout Jorgenson. They had a "follower" their age named Fishlegs Ingerman, and though he never participated in the name-calling or beatings, he never helped Helena either. To Helena, that was just as bad as participating. All of the villagers seemed to turn their backs on her when she begged for help.
She felt herself itching for her knife when she was pulled back into reality by a dragon's roar. "Dragon raid," she whispered, yanking her blanket off of her and jumping up from her bed. She quickly pulled her hair into a ponytail, threw on some day clothes, and yanked on some boots as she rushed from her house. Her curly hair bounced against the back of her neck as she ran down the hill that her house sat on, looking for Gobber or the blacksmith shop. Several people yelled at her as she passed them by.
"What are you doing?"
"Go back inside!"
"Who let her out?"
She tried to ignore the comments as she finally reached Gobber's shop, rushing inside.
"Well, there ya are, lassie!" Gobber chuckled as she grabbed her apron and got it on. "Thought you mighta been carried off."
"Please Gobber," Helena rolled her eyes as she grabbed one of Gobber's interchangable hands and hobbled over with it to where he was fixing a viking's sword. "This is not a time for your horrible jokes. How many weapons need fixing?" Gobber pointed his actual hand to the pile of bent swords, axes, and shields on the counter. "Great."
"And they're all impatient," Gobber added, putting the interchangable hand on and began pounding the hammer on the sword. "And for your information, my jokes are hilarious. It's you who has a horrible sense of humor."
Helena only laughed, grabbing an axe and carrying it over to the fire. "How many raids is this now this month? Three?"
"Four," Gobber corrected. "They just don't wanna give us a break, lass. Why do you supposed that is?"
Helena only shrugged as she began to work on tilting the axe to the correct angles again. The silence lasted only for a moment.
"NIGHT FURY!"
"Helena, get down!"
Helena instantly did as told, dropping to the ground as the piercing sound of the Night Fury's blast sounded throughout the air. She looked through one of the windows to see her father, Chief Stoick, and several of his men jump from a catapult to safety. She sighed in disbelief as he instantly turned around and began fighting off a Monstrous Nightmare. Her father was an amazing warrior, a chief, and what was she?
Nothing but a burden.
"Alright, lassie," Gobber hobbled over to her on his foot and peg leg. "The Night Fury's gone. You can get up now. You alright?"
"I'm not gonna break, Gobber," Helena said almost harshly as she took his hand and was pulled to her feet.
"You're a strong lass alright," Gobber frowned. "But you know I worry."
Helena only looked back towards the axe and picked it up to avoid Gobber's gaze. He watched her for a moment longer before sighing and turning towards the exit. "I'm going out to help, Helena. You stay here, understand?" Helena only nodded as he changed his hammer hand for an axe hand. Gobber took one last glance at the girl before running off to join the fight.
Just as Helena was contemplating running out with one of the weapons and joining the fight, a growl caused her to freeze. She slowly turned to look behind her at the large window over the counter to see a Monstrous Nightmare peering in at her. It opened its mouth, ready to fire.
"Ah!"
Helena instantly shot towards the exit, barely avoiding the shots of fire the Monstrous Nightmare was shooting at her. She grabbed a sword and turned around, swinging the weapon as best she could at the creature. It barely faultered when she almost lost her balance trying to swing the weapon. It even seemed to smirk at her. She tried swinging it again, barely missing the dragon's snout, which angered it even more.
The dragon whipped his tail around, smacking into her side, knocking her to the ground with a grunt. It trapped her in her place with its paw and growled at her, bringing its head dangerously close.
"Get off of her!"
A hammer suddenly slammed into the dragon's snout, bringing a sound of shock and pain from the dragon, knocking it away from the shaking girl. A hand grabbed her and pulled her to her feet. She looked to see her father step in front of her as the Nightmare regained its balance. A couple more swings and the Nightmare decided enough was enough and flew off, giving up on its attempt to kill. Helena felt a breath finally release itself from her chest, one she didn't realize she was holding.
She only sucked in another breath when her father turned aroud to look at her. He looked furious. Not to mention that every villager seemed to turn their way as he began yelling.
"Why weren't you in the blacksmith shop?"
"It tried getting in and I ..."
"Why can't you follow the simpliest of orders!?"
"Dad, I ..."
"No, stop!" Helena instantly shut herself up as her father continued. "Everytime you step outside, one of us has to save you from some sort of trouble! If you just listened and stay where you're supposed to stay, you wouldn't cause so much trouble!" He pointed towards Gobber's workshop, which was now in flames from the unattended fire and the dragon's attack. "Now we have to rebuild the blacksmith shop! Do you realize how long that will take?"
Helena's eyes darted around, seeing the villagers surrounding them, giving her glares and disapproving looks. Her shoulders slumped in defeat as she saw the other kids chuckle. "I'm sorry, Dad."
Stoick only sighed, rubbing his forehead with his free hand. "Just go home." He turned to Gobber. "Make sure she gets there. I have to clean up this mess."
Gobber quickly took Helena's side as they began the treak to her house.
"He never listens!"
"Well, Helena, you don't either, a lot of the time," Gobber reminded her.
"But at least I'd give him a chance to explain himself! He doesn't even give me a chance!"
"Maybe if you followed his orders ..."
"Followed his orders!?" Helena turned around, and Gobber could practically see the steam sprouting from her ears in frustration. "What was I supposed to do? Just stand there and let the dragon burn me to a crisp?" She huffed and looked to the ground. Gobber frowned as she whispered, "It probably would've made him happier."
"Now listen here, Helena," Gobber started, but she held a hand up to stop him.
"I don't feel like listening to another lecture, Gobber," she said, looking towards the sunrise on the horizon. "I'm going inside. Let me know when I can come back to work."
Gobber only watched sadly as she disappered into her house. Sighing, Gobber turned away and began the walk back to what was left of the blacksmith shop.
Helena plopped down onto her bed, pulling her hair from her ponytail. She twirled her curls in between her fingers for a few moments before beginning to redo her hair into a braid.
"Let me guess," a boy's voice spoke. "He yelled at you again?"
Helena looked up to see the ghost of a 15-year-old boy sit next to her: her brother, Hiccup.
"Yep," she sighed. "In front of the entire village, too. Hiccup, I don't know what to do anymore. He'll never be happy with anything I do."
"You've just gotta keep trying," Hiccup urged her.
"You think I haven't?" she growled. She reached for her nightstand, but Hiccup's hand stopped her. He knew what she was reaching for.
"You promised me you'd stop," he reminded her. "And you're still doing it?"
She looked up at her older brother with pleading eyes. Hiccup sighed. He'd been watching her since the first day he left, determined to protect her throughout her life, even if he wasn't alive. His ghost grew in real time with Helena's reality. And he sadly watched as her lively green eyes slowly became dull and broken throughout the years of neglent and abuse form the other villagers.
He slowly took his hand from her's and reached behind her, working on her braid. "Why did you break your promise?"
She only looked down at her clothed arms, before pulling up the sleeve on her left arm, revealing healing cuts. Hiccup slightly winced seeing them, but continued working on her braid.
"I guess," she replied quietly. "I just needed relief."
"It only hurts you, Helena," Hiccup said, securing her braid. His ghostly hand ran over the cuts, causing Helena to slightly shiver. "I'm scared that one day ... You'll go too far." She looked up at him, her breath caught in her throat in discomfort. He looked her in the eyes. "I can't watch you die. I want to watch you live."
"I'm too chicken to cut myself that deep, Hiccup," she assured him. "I promise I'll try harder not to do it."
She could see in his eyes that he didn't believe her, but he dropped the subject. They sat there silently on her bed, looking out the window at the waking island, watching as villagers scrambled around to start their day and clean up from the recent raid. It was times like this that Helena finally felt at peace, and it was only one of many times she wished her brother was still alive.
Crazy idea I got while listening to Concrete Angel by Martina McBride. Please, review and let me know if I should continue!
