Hi there eyveryone! Guess what? I'm going through writer block with A Christmas Present For Arnold!
Boo! But, I did think up this, So I offer it to you, oh great fan fic readers, in hopes that you shall not hurl tomatoes
at me. Cuz really...this story is something only an insane mind like me could think up!
Diclaimer. Don't own Hey Arnold. Sorry...^_^
~*~Legends of the Norse.~*~
Chapter One- The Dreams of a Sailor, a Memory long since past.
He is a sailor. His skin is tan, his limbs strong and quick. His skin tastes of the salt water he has spent his life drifting
on. He's sincere, and serene and smarter then the rest of them. He is true beauty. Even though I can't understand how.
He wipes the brow of his oddly wide-shaped head, dropping one of the many ropes to the masts that he had previously
been tugging on fiercly. I watch him, transfixed by his thick, gold-spun hair that reminds me of the fields of Cornflower
the farmer Thrand plants each Spring and harvests each Fall. And his eyes. Oh, those eyes! Eyes, that I have never seen
before. A green that I cannot place. So bright, it pulls me in, greener then the ocean when its plants have overgrown.
He is our kind.
I heard it from the whisperings, whenever he walks in a room. The Half-Breed. The boy who was born of an English
Mother, but Created by our own, A Scandinavian Father. The bastard-child who lost his parents, when they had drifted
off to Sea one day, and had never returned home. The boy who had spent his life on the vessel of his Grandfather, Philim,
Sailor of the Irish Lands. Or, as his large, unvarnished crew called him; 'Iron Phil'.
The boy named Arnold. Arnold, who's name means 'Strong as an Eagle'.
All this I had heard from the old spintresses who look after me day after day when I am not being summoned to take lady-lessons. The Spintresses, whether they be widows or old-maids, treat me as thier Kin. And why should they not?
It is they who have raised me. My Father, King Robert,--the man with the oddest name in all of Scandinavia--
is the Ruler of all Norse Lands. He wed my mother,
The Teuton Princess, Meriaum, who had the name that brought her to be known as 'Bringer of the Mighty Sea.'
How right those who gave her that name were.
My mother had given birth to one child before I, and they gave her the name of 'Holy'. My sister, Olga. My father, the
great beast, cherishes her as though she is what makes up Yggdrasil, the World Tree, and that she alone orders the Fates
to spin the tapastry of Mortal's lives from their loom. He bestows upon her such wealth...
And to think, he tried to kill me.
I was supposed to be a boy. An Heir to the throne of the 'Great King'. But I was born to this body. The body of a girl,
and my father hated both my mother and myself for this catastrophe. He loathed me--resented my presense so
unbelievably, that on my first day of living, he put me in a wooden box, and cast me out to the glorious Sea. I would
have died there, under the frigid, fitful waves, if it had not been for dearest Odin, the Father of All. The King of the Gods.
This must sound absolutly ludicrous, but I remember that day, being tossed , wave by wave. Knowing I was going to
die, but not being old enough to know what that meant. It was cold, and it icy air bled into my skin, making it turn to a
shade that was close to my own eye colour. I began to cry. Scream. Wanting something to come help me.
And that was just what happened.
He appeared to me in gleaming armour. His hair and beard thick and long, a colour between red and gold. He was huge.
Massive. Muscles that gave way to more muscles. And he was covered in light. He exsisted in it. He hovered over the
dark ocean, and it calmed at his exhalted presense. But all this could not make up for one of his features, that was so
apparent it could not me missed. Although he was a strange hansome that cannot be described...that still did not make up
for the fact that he only had one eye, gleaming with a gaze that swallowed the world within it.
Although I had never heard of him in my single day of life, I knew this man was Odin.
"Little one, what has your father done to you?" he spoke in our language, picking me up out of my box, and watching as it
eventually sunk beneath then motionless waters. He held me tighly in his powerful arms, knowing well that I could
understand him perfectly, though I knew not how to answer back.
He had looked back to my form and whispered to me, "I have delivered you from my Ocean, Small one. But, as a price,
for almost taking your sacred life, the waters that flow from my Earth shall be forever a part of you."
Here he had spread his arm out across they entire Sea, and I had looked on in awe, and lisented to what he said next,
"Do you see, my Tiny Girl? See how the waters remain calm? I am no longer ordering them to do so. It is you who
commands them. They love you, little one. They love you because they almost took you away. And they will do so, or
anything else you desire, merely by your order. You belong to them, and they belong to you. The Seas are yours now,
a Gift from myself. I see something in you, My new Daughter. You shall become the Holy, the peaceful, my Daughter
of the Waters..."
He had stopped for a moment, leaving me in euphoric rapture. I was to be his daughter? The radient Sea was mine?!
"Holy...Peaceful..." He had mused, "Yes, you shall be all that, and more. That is why, I shall name you, Helga."
My eyes had widened with delight. Until that moment, I had not been given a name, my 'father' would not hear of it.
Now, to be named by the All-Ruler...
"And now, my Child, it is time for you to return home."
I had bore my eyes into Odin's one with terror. No, I could not be sent back! Could I not go with him?
He chuckled, knowing my thoughts, "No, young one. You cannot come to Asgard with me. You are neither immortal or
Dead. And I will not kill you. Myself and my Valkeries shall return you to your castle and your birth parents, with a
warning, of course, " here he had smirked wonderfully, "That if Your FATHER should try another attempt on your life,
the life of my Water Child, that I shall personally send forth the Vengence of the Gods upon him and his people."
And that is exactly the way it went. When Odin had appeared before my Father and Family, the hue on my fathers face
was a laughable purple that stood somewhere between unbridled fear and sparked anger. He had not only been ordered
not to kill me, but I now had the favor of the All-Father on my side! I had even been blessed with some of his power!
He had hated me for it then, as he still does now, in my ninth year of life. But he couldn't touch me. For he remembers the
last words of Odin, whom I see as my true father, to me before he left to return to Asgard, Castle Kingdom of the
Immortals:
"Call on me when you are in need. You are my own, and I would spill my own blood, and anyone else's, to protect you.
I shall always be with you, and I will watch for you in my Seas. Remember the water, my Darling Helga, for that is your
tie to me. I will love you...until the end of time."
He had vanished then, along with his Valkeries. But I had never forgoten those words, him, or my power.
Niether had Father.
Most days, I was left with the spinsters, or with certain Ladies, being told how to gain a wealthy husband by sitting up
straight at the feast table and never eating all my portions. But today, I had escaped from all that, as I do quite often,
and was near the ocean. I'm with my Sea. But the boy who had landed at the docks here, only fourteen days ago,
is what cathes my interest today. And I want not to make a pillar of water, or dance with the waves, as I usually do.
I want to watch him. The Gods only know why!
"PRINCESS!" A decidly male voice calls to me. I wake from my dream-like memories and shift my gaze to the sound.
Arnold!
He waves to me from the never-ending momument of wood that was his Grandfathers ship. It's name is The Midgard,
after the Serpent who coils around the entire world. Quickly, he bounds off, running towards me, and in another moment
we are standing face-to-face, his breathing heavy and forces, regaining his composure.
I smile softly. I had first met him on his second day of being ashore. My hand-maiden, Phoebe--who had been captured
from the far east, and has hair that is amazingly night-shaded--had gone to take a better look at him. Actually, I had gone
to take a better look at him, She had gone to meet his dark-skinned companion, Gerald. He is from a far off land, too.
Why is that everyone who is not one of my people has unaturally dark skin or hair ( or even both?)? Phoebe says that
where she comes from, the colour of my hair and eyes would make me the strange spectacle, instead of herself. She says
since I have never been anywhere, I am ignorant of other cultures that may exist.
But usually, when she says that, I pretend to throw something at her.
"You're here!" Arnold exclaims, breathing normally once more. His accent is nothing, but his Norse toungue is quite fine.
"Yes, any objections, Head-Boy?" I snap, using the name I had thought of to bother him.
He grins, "None at all, your MAJESTY." he jests.
I give a roll of my eyes, "No, none of that! What have I told you to call me?!"
"My apologies, Helga." he smiles, "I'm glad you're here. Gerald is off with Phoebe, and I have nothing to do. I could use
some company. At least you won't go on about how lusterous Phoebe's hair is in candlelight."
"You looked busy a moment ago..." I complain.
"Yes, I saw you watching me." He smile grows wider.
The hair on the back of my neck stood with a strange sensation. Not fear, something...exciting.
"I...I did not want to disturb you..." I lie. Not an entire lie. In truth, I was afraid if I disturbed him, I could no longer
watch him. Arnold laughs wistfully,
"You could never, Princess, even if you tried." he says, giving me a wink.
I feel the heat in my cheeks flame, and had the sudden urge to dunk myself in the cold waters to extinguish the fire.
"Come on, walk with me!" Arnold demands ardorably, grabbing hold of one of my hands and pulling me along. He
was practicly running along the dark-sanded, rocky beach, and I have to dig my heels into the ground to slow him,
"Arnold, stop! You may be dressed for this, but I'm not!"
He halts stiffly in his tracks and looks at my attire. I wore a flimsy white dress with many soft, expensive layers of a thin,
filmy fabric. This same fabric also made up the sleeves, which flared out modestly. The bodice was made of a thicker
white materail that shone in sunlight, if there had been any that day. The trim was white fur, and my hair was worn down,
dried naturally into curls, with a thin golden band placed atop them. Not awful for a princess, but Olga always got better.
"You are Beautiful." the words sent chills traveling to every part of my body, and I stare into Arnold's eyes, taken over.
"Arnold, stop this."
"I mean it...it's true." he insists. The whole of me shivers, but I'm not cold.
"Well...thank you, I suppose." I mumble shortly. I begin to walk again, but suddenly here a resounding rip. My legs freeze
abruptly, and I slowly look down at the bottom of my dress. Please, let it not be so...
Sure enough, a small piece of my dress--not even enough to cover half my palm-- lays disattached on the ground.
"By Criminey!" I swear, picking up the cloth, "Why can't I go through a full month without destroying a dress?!"
Arnold looks at the piece of white gown that I hold up. He gulps nervously. I look at him curiously.
"Can..." he hesitates, "Can I have it?"
My mouth drops, uncharacteristicly shocked,
"What?" I whisper.
Why would he want a piece of my dress? It can't be for him!
"To--to remember you, when I leave." he explains, talking of the day I had come to senslessly dread. The day his ship
would sail out to my Sea's once more.
"I was going to ask for a lock of your hair..." he continues, "But Kian McGee--the one who plays the whistle on board--
said that only people in love asks for locks of one-another's hair."
I gawk at him mindlessly.
"Oh..." I murmur, even though the situation didn't make much more sense to me then it had at the begining,
"Yes, here." I hand him the tattered piece of clothing. He takes it, lips turned into a smile as our fingers touch softly.
"Thank you, Helga." he says gently. Quickly, he took up my hand and pressed his lips against it, softly.
For a moment, there was nothing else in the world. The space around up was unsure and blurred, and I couldn't even
hear the Sea. There was only Arnold, and the feeling in me from having him here. Stronger then the pulse beneath my skin.
Suddenly, a loud, disturbing whoop and multiple hollars broke the moment. Both Arnold and I looked upwards to the rocky
cliff above us. There stood a pack of crew mates, all of whom I was aqquainted with. Kian McGee himself was the leader,
being followed by Mahon McSharr, Rowan O'Toole, Eivind of Norway and a Man named Leif. They all cheer in unison.
"Atta' way, me boy! Make tha' Princess swoon!" Mahon shouts down to us, then, as an afterthought, adds,
"No 'ard feelin's thare, eh' Princess?!"in his thick Celtic Accent, which can be a bit hard to understand at times.
I tilt my neck and shout back, "None at all, Mahon, since I will not be made to swoon by the likes of this boy!"
The give a defeated moan, proof that they had heard the insult.
I turn back to Arnold, a triumphant grin on my lips, and he laughs, shaking his head,
"Helga, such a KIND, MILD maid as you...I've never met before." he mocks good-naturedly.
"Nor shall you ever again." I return, "Now, come, let us finish our walk. You could tell me all you did today, And I will
bore you with news of my Castle."
"I would be delighted to be bored by you." he jests smartly.
I take his arm as he quickly pockets the part of my dress, and we walk in the opposit dierection of the boat. All the while,
we could hear from behind us the gleeful hoots of the men behind us. But it didn't matter.
We were too caught up in eachother.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My eyes bolt open and I gulp in air, realizing I havn't been breathing for a few minutes now.
I sit up straight, resisting the urge to close my eyes again,
"What the...?" I begin to say, fading out with confusion. I try to move my legs, but find they've been tangled in the thin
cotton sheets of my bed. What was that?! I look back at my pillow, then face forward again, my eyes darting around
the heart-filled walls of my room. There's no Sea, there's no ship, and there's no Arnold.
"Just...a Dream." I pant out, still cathing my breathing, trying to convince myself. Yeah, that was just a dream. Just like
every other I've had about Arnold. Nothing special, I probably won't even remember in by the time I get to school.
But, no, that's not right.
I've never had a dream like that before.
It was all too real, it had too much detail. It was almost a memory. A memory of something that I know never happened,
but was too familiar not to be true. My dreams never tell me what I'm thinking. My dreams never give way to other
memories, like this one. My dreams had always been nothing but pictures. Strange pictures, romantic pictures, sometimes
even frightening pictures. And they could, on a very rare occasion, even help me by being informative. But there had
never been a dream like this. A dream that said so much, without making any sense at all. I don't understand.
But suddenly, I feel very different...like I should have remembered something...Like something should have clicked.
But nothing did, after all, it was just a dream...a dream like a forgotten memory...
Aw, c'mon, Snap out of it, Pataki!
"OLGA!" a rough voice bellows from downstairs. Bob. The Beeper King himself.
"YOU HAVE TEN MINUTES TO GET DOWN HERE, GIRL, OR I'M EATING YOU BREAKFAST!"
I sneer disdainfully, "Coming BOB!" I growl with false sweetness, and then, mutter under my breath, "Like I would
even want the kind of breakfast Mirium cooks. What is it today? Burnt toast with hair gel?"
I hurried into the bathroom, turn on the faucet, and wash my face. The water was luke-warm, and it ran through
my fingers, smooth as silk. I stare into the clearness, instantly interested. The water drips down my neck,
past my shoulders. Slowly, I cup my hands, gathering the crystal-like liquid.
My eyes lose focus as the light from the bathroom bounces off the ripples. The rush of water invades my ears,
disattaching me from the entire world. Glossy beads of wet form on my skin, as the melody of the water being emptied
from my hands lulls me into a strange state of being. A murmur invades the back of my mind. At first just an
immitation of a heartbeat, but soon, a word starts to form from the faint pulse...
Remember...
Remember...
"OLGA! WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY RUNNING THE WATER SO LONG?! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO RUN
A BEEPER EMPIRE IF YOU'RE WASTING MY MONEY ON WATER?!" My body jolts at hearing Big Bob roar
from downstairs. I quickly turn off the water and run back into my room, and take out my drees.
"Yeah Yeah Bob, cool it!" I yell back.
I space out sometimes, when I wash my face or take a shower. Something about the water...
Not like in my dream! I don't LOVE water. That's stupid, why would I love something that isn't human?
Probably for the same reason I love a human who doesn't love me...
But, I've never felt any bond to water. Not like the me in my dream...
Have I?
I walk over to my mirror and check my hair, making sure it had stayed in pigtails from the previous night.
It's not like I haven't had dreams of Arnold before. Just like that one. Where I would be the Princess, and he would call
me beautiful. This was just a...stranger one. Maybe I'd better start checking the labels on that bag of chips I ate
yesterday. They're probably just as bad as the Pork Rinds.
I reach my hands up to straighten my Pink Bow.
I'll just stop thinking about it. Why do I care so much about a stupid dream?!I don't know WHY I'm getting so weird
about it. Helga, ol' Girl, you need a Cat-Scan.
I take a quick peek at my shrine, uncovering the curtain of clothes to get to it. Sorry, my love, no time for ceremonies
today, I'm late, and I don't want to miss seeing the true you at school. Oh, may this be the day I confess my love?
I rush downstairs and barrel out the door, already knowing I didn't have time to eat, not that I was all that dissapointed
about it. The muscles in my legs strain as a run to the bus stop. A few people give me understanding looks as I dash by,
remembering the days when they, too, made the faithful run in the obscenly early hours of morning to get to the bus shelter.
Finally, I arrive at my stop, grabbing hold of a signpost and panting for air. I only have to wait a few seconds before I see
the bus turn the corner, lazily pulling up to me, the driver allowing the doors to clank open harshly.
I take a step forward, my foot landing in a puddle from last nights storm. I look down at it. The wavlets, instead of lapping
out from my foot--the thing that had cause the disturbance in the water--actually lap against it, surrounding it. Strange...
"Hey kid, you gettin' on, or what?!" the bus-driver snarls impatiently.
I shoot him an annoyed scowl, which he igores compleatly, to my outrage. I clamber up the step and put in my fair.
"...Because it would be a tragedy if I made you three seconds late." I sneer at him, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
I take my seat with Phoebe.
"Salutations, Helga." she says, her voice high and chipper.
"Mornin' Pheebs." I say evenly. Dark-Haired Hand maiden? Captured from the far east?
Gerald and Arnold sit behind us, and Gerald peeks his head over the seat,
"Hey Helga, way to space out back there." he ridicules, trying to provoke me. Dark-Skinned Companion?
Why does it all fit so well?
"Helga...are you ok?" the sailor's voice takes me back to the real world. No. This isn't a Sailor! It's just Arnold!
He had walked into the bus aisle, so that he could face me.
Tanned.
Those eyes.
The Bastard-Child.
True Beauty...
"Helga...?" he says unsurely. The thoughts break. No, this is not the Arnold from my dreams. It can't be.
I snap back and glower at him, feeling my old self once more, "Whadda'ya want, Footbalhead? You think
Helga G. Pataki can't take care of Herself?! Newsflash, Bucko, I don't need therapy from Mr. 'Do The Right Thing.'"
He stays in the aisle looking defeated, if not a bit hurt, "Sorry, Helga, I just wanted to see if you were alright."
I scoff, "Oh, I'm just peachy. Everything's just roses for me." I spat in contempt,
"Now, one side, Arnoldo, you're blocking traffic!"
He sighs dejectedly and sits back down in his seat.
Phoebe shoots me a look, trying to make me feel guilty. I smirk at her. Nope, I've been doing this for too long. No
one person can make me feel guilt for the things I do to that darling boy. I do it all by myself.
When we arrived at school, we had barly been out of the bus three minutes before the bell rang.
"Is this one of those days when you're going to be exceptionally hard on...ice cream?" Phoebe asked as we got our
books from our lockers, using the name that we both unspokenly knew meant Arnold.
I give her a wicked grin, "Hope so, Pheebs, hope so."
She shakes her head a little, but still smiles.
We get into class just as the bell rings, and everyone settles into thier seat,
"Why Helga," Rhonda jeers, "I couldn't help but notice how out of it you seemed, getting on the bus. Really, how is it
that you managed to stare at your foot for five minutes without--"
"Aw, Can it Princess! Or Ol' Betsy will have you sucking your meals out of a straw!" I answer loudly, holding up my
infamous fist to show that what I'd said wasn't a threat, it was a promise.
Her mouth drops open dramaticly, "Well I never!" she gasps.
"Yeah? Well now you have." I retort.
"Class, Class, Listen up, I have a very special annoucment!" Mr. Simmons says as he breezes into the room.
We all face him, waiting for what he's going to say.
His eyes wander around the room for a moment before he beems at all of us joyfully,
"Class, I'm very pleased to announce, that instaed of doing our library project of Beach Ecosystems, as we had planned
today, I've arranged for a bus to pick us up in ten minutes to go to the Beach so we can see the enviroment using a
'Hands-on' approach! Won't that be be wonderful?!" He claps his hands together, delighted he'd thought of it.
"A whole day at the beach? Alright!" Sid celebrates.
"All those Hot Dog and Ice Creams stands... this is gonna' be great!" Harold drools.
"I 'rekon I'll find meh' a pet crab or summin' like that." Stinky drawls.
"The insect life!" Nadine breathes,
"The Plant Life!" Sheena sighs,
"The sand that gets in your shorts and shoes!" Eugenes reminds bringtly.
But I can't speak. I can't think of a single thing about the beach, except one.
The Sea.
We're going to the Sea.
Somehow, this can't be good.
But then, why does it feel that way?
And why do I need the salt water so much? Why does it hurt not to have it here?
The whole class loads the bus in excitment, but none more then me, because the same thought keeps repeating, on and
on in my head, and I whisper it to the Sea.
I'm coming...
I'm coming...
~*~ End of Chapter One~*~
Yay! I've Finshed it!!! I Know, loads of crap, but I needed to get it out. I like Norse legends, and Helga makes the
perfect princess, dontcha' think? Sorry if some of the history is messed up, I'm going on a lot of different books. It
case you don't know about some of the stuff Helga was talking about in her dream, Here are some terms:
Odin- King of the Gods (Doi!)
Asgard- Home of the Immortals and gateway to the Nine worlds, Think of it as a Norse version of Heaven.
Yggdrasil- The world tree, under which the three sisters, Being, Neccessity and Fate, sit at their loom and weave
the lives of people.
The Midgard Serpant- A Snake who's coils encirle the entire Earth.
Okay, I promise that the next chapter will be more interesting...and it'll be better, too!^_^
PLEASE OH PLEASE Don't give up on this story cuz it seems pointless right now. It'll make sense soon, cross my
heart. Okay, it's time to say ttfn!
Wishing u...
Luv
Life
Luck
n' Lafta
~*~CD~*~
Boo! But, I did think up this, So I offer it to you, oh great fan fic readers, in hopes that you shall not hurl tomatoes
at me. Cuz really...this story is something only an insane mind like me could think up!
Diclaimer. Don't own Hey Arnold. Sorry...^_^
~*~Legends of the Norse.~*~
Chapter One- The Dreams of a Sailor, a Memory long since past.
He is a sailor. His skin is tan, his limbs strong and quick. His skin tastes of the salt water he has spent his life drifting
on. He's sincere, and serene and smarter then the rest of them. He is true beauty. Even though I can't understand how.
He wipes the brow of his oddly wide-shaped head, dropping one of the many ropes to the masts that he had previously
been tugging on fiercly. I watch him, transfixed by his thick, gold-spun hair that reminds me of the fields of Cornflower
the farmer Thrand plants each Spring and harvests each Fall. And his eyes. Oh, those eyes! Eyes, that I have never seen
before. A green that I cannot place. So bright, it pulls me in, greener then the ocean when its plants have overgrown.
He is our kind.
I heard it from the whisperings, whenever he walks in a room. The Half-Breed. The boy who was born of an English
Mother, but Created by our own, A Scandinavian Father. The bastard-child who lost his parents, when they had drifted
off to Sea one day, and had never returned home. The boy who had spent his life on the vessel of his Grandfather, Philim,
Sailor of the Irish Lands. Or, as his large, unvarnished crew called him; 'Iron Phil'.
The boy named Arnold. Arnold, who's name means 'Strong as an Eagle'.
All this I had heard from the old spintresses who look after me day after day when I am not being summoned to take lady-lessons. The Spintresses, whether they be widows or old-maids, treat me as thier Kin. And why should they not?
It is they who have raised me. My Father, King Robert,--the man with the oddest name in all of Scandinavia--
is the Ruler of all Norse Lands. He wed my mother,
The Teuton Princess, Meriaum, who had the name that brought her to be known as 'Bringer of the Mighty Sea.'
How right those who gave her that name were.
My mother had given birth to one child before I, and they gave her the name of 'Holy'. My sister, Olga. My father, the
great beast, cherishes her as though she is what makes up Yggdrasil, the World Tree, and that she alone orders the Fates
to spin the tapastry of Mortal's lives from their loom. He bestows upon her such wealth...
And to think, he tried to kill me.
I was supposed to be a boy. An Heir to the throne of the 'Great King'. But I was born to this body. The body of a girl,
and my father hated both my mother and myself for this catastrophe. He loathed me--resented my presense so
unbelievably, that on my first day of living, he put me in a wooden box, and cast me out to the glorious Sea. I would
have died there, under the frigid, fitful waves, if it had not been for dearest Odin, the Father of All. The King of the Gods.
This must sound absolutly ludicrous, but I remember that day, being tossed , wave by wave. Knowing I was going to
die, but not being old enough to know what that meant. It was cold, and it icy air bled into my skin, making it turn to a
shade that was close to my own eye colour. I began to cry. Scream. Wanting something to come help me.
And that was just what happened.
He appeared to me in gleaming armour. His hair and beard thick and long, a colour between red and gold. He was huge.
Massive. Muscles that gave way to more muscles. And he was covered in light. He exsisted in it. He hovered over the
dark ocean, and it calmed at his exhalted presense. But all this could not make up for one of his features, that was so
apparent it could not me missed. Although he was a strange hansome that cannot be described...that still did not make up
for the fact that he only had one eye, gleaming with a gaze that swallowed the world within it.
Although I had never heard of him in my single day of life, I knew this man was Odin.
"Little one, what has your father done to you?" he spoke in our language, picking me up out of my box, and watching as it
eventually sunk beneath then motionless waters. He held me tighly in his powerful arms, knowing well that I could
understand him perfectly, though I knew not how to answer back.
He had looked back to my form and whispered to me, "I have delivered you from my Ocean, Small one. But, as a price,
for almost taking your sacred life, the waters that flow from my Earth shall be forever a part of you."
Here he had spread his arm out across they entire Sea, and I had looked on in awe, and lisented to what he said next,
"Do you see, my Tiny Girl? See how the waters remain calm? I am no longer ordering them to do so. It is you who
commands them. They love you, little one. They love you because they almost took you away. And they will do so, or
anything else you desire, merely by your order. You belong to them, and they belong to you. The Seas are yours now,
a Gift from myself. I see something in you, My new Daughter. You shall become the Holy, the peaceful, my Daughter
of the Waters..."
He had stopped for a moment, leaving me in euphoric rapture. I was to be his daughter? The radient Sea was mine?!
"Holy...Peaceful..." He had mused, "Yes, you shall be all that, and more. That is why, I shall name you, Helga."
My eyes had widened with delight. Until that moment, I had not been given a name, my 'father' would not hear of it.
Now, to be named by the All-Ruler...
"And now, my Child, it is time for you to return home."
I had bore my eyes into Odin's one with terror. No, I could not be sent back! Could I not go with him?
He chuckled, knowing my thoughts, "No, young one. You cannot come to Asgard with me. You are neither immortal or
Dead. And I will not kill you. Myself and my Valkeries shall return you to your castle and your birth parents, with a
warning, of course, " here he had smirked wonderfully, "That if Your FATHER should try another attempt on your life,
the life of my Water Child, that I shall personally send forth the Vengence of the Gods upon him and his people."
And that is exactly the way it went. When Odin had appeared before my Father and Family, the hue on my fathers face
was a laughable purple that stood somewhere between unbridled fear and sparked anger. He had not only been ordered
not to kill me, but I now had the favor of the All-Father on my side! I had even been blessed with some of his power!
He had hated me for it then, as he still does now, in my ninth year of life. But he couldn't touch me. For he remembers the
last words of Odin, whom I see as my true father, to me before he left to return to Asgard, Castle Kingdom of the
Immortals:
"Call on me when you are in need. You are my own, and I would spill my own blood, and anyone else's, to protect you.
I shall always be with you, and I will watch for you in my Seas. Remember the water, my Darling Helga, for that is your
tie to me. I will love you...until the end of time."
He had vanished then, along with his Valkeries. But I had never forgoten those words, him, or my power.
Niether had Father.
Most days, I was left with the spinsters, or with certain Ladies, being told how to gain a wealthy husband by sitting up
straight at the feast table and never eating all my portions. But today, I had escaped from all that, as I do quite often,
and was near the ocean. I'm with my Sea. But the boy who had landed at the docks here, only fourteen days ago,
is what cathes my interest today. And I want not to make a pillar of water, or dance with the waves, as I usually do.
I want to watch him. The Gods only know why!
"PRINCESS!" A decidly male voice calls to me. I wake from my dream-like memories and shift my gaze to the sound.
Arnold!
He waves to me from the never-ending momument of wood that was his Grandfathers ship. It's name is The Midgard,
after the Serpent who coils around the entire world. Quickly, he bounds off, running towards me, and in another moment
we are standing face-to-face, his breathing heavy and forces, regaining his composure.
I smile softly. I had first met him on his second day of being ashore. My hand-maiden, Phoebe--who had been captured
from the far east, and has hair that is amazingly night-shaded--had gone to take a better look at him. Actually, I had gone
to take a better look at him, She had gone to meet his dark-skinned companion, Gerald. He is from a far off land, too.
Why is that everyone who is not one of my people has unaturally dark skin or hair ( or even both?)? Phoebe says that
where she comes from, the colour of my hair and eyes would make me the strange spectacle, instead of herself. She says
since I have never been anywhere, I am ignorant of other cultures that may exist.
But usually, when she says that, I pretend to throw something at her.
"You're here!" Arnold exclaims, breathing normally once more. His accent is nothing, but his Norse toungue is quite fine.
"Yes, any objections, Head-Boy?" I snap, using the name I had thought of to bother him.
He grins, "None at all, your MAJESTY." he jests.
I give a roll of my eyes, "No, none of that! What have I told you to call me?!"
"My apologies, Helga." he smiles, "I'm glad you're here. Gerald is off with Phoebe, and I have nothing to do. I could use
some company. At least you won't go on about how lusterous Phoebe's hair is in candlelight."
"You looked busy a moment ago..." I complain.
"Yes, I saw you watching me." He smile grows wider.
The hair on the back of my neck stood with a strange sensation. Not fear, something...exciting.
"I...I did not want to disturb you..." I lie. Not an entire lie. In truth, I was afraid if I disturbed him, I could no longer
watch him. Arnold laughs wistfully,
"You could never, Princess, even if you tried." he says, giving me a wink.
I feel the heat in my cheeks flame, and had the sudden urge to dunk myself in the cold waters to extinguish the fire.
"Come on, walk with me!" Arnold demands ardorably, grabbing hold of one of my hands and pulling me along. He
was practicly running along the dark-sanded, rocky beach, and I have to dig my heels into the ground to slow him,
"Arnold, stop! You may be dressed for this, but I'm not!"
He halts stiffly in his tracks and looks at my attire. I wore a flimsy white dress with many soft, expensive layers of a thin,
filmy fabric. This same fabric also made up the sleeves, which flared out modestly. The bodice was made of a thicker
white materail that shone in sunlight, if there had been any that day. The trim was white fur, and my hair was worn down,
dried naturally into curls, with a thin golden band placed atop them. Not awful for a princess, but Olga always got better.
"You are Beautiful." the words sent chills traveling to every part of my body, and I stare into Arnold's eyes, taken over.
"Arnold, stop this."
"I mean it...it's true." he insists. The whole of me shivers, but I'm not cold.
"Well...thank you, I suppose." I mumble shortly. I begin to walk again, but suddenly here a resounding rip. My legs freeze
abruptly, and I slowly look down at the bottom of my dress. Please, let it not be so...
Sure enough, a small piece of my dress--not even enough to cover half my palm-- lays disattached on the ground.
"By Criminey!" I swear, picking up the cloth, "Why can't I go through a full month without destroying a dress?!"
Arnold looks at the piece of white gown that I hold up. He gulps nervously. I look at him curiously.
"Can..." he hesitates, "Can I have it?"
My mouth drops, uncharacteristicly shocked,
"What?" I whisper.
Why would he want a piece of my dress? It can't be for him!
"To--to remember you, when I leave." he explains, talking of the day I had come to senslessly dread. The day his ship
would sail out to my Sea's once more.
"I was going to ask for a lock of your hair..." he continues, "But Kian McGee--the one who plays the whistle on board--
said that only people in love asks for locks of one-another's hair."
I gawk at him mindlessly.
"Oh..." I murmur, even though the situation didn't make much more sense to me then it had at the begining,
"Yes, here." I hand him the tattered piece of clothing. He takes it, lips turned into a smile as our fingers touch softly.
"Thank you, Helga." he says gently. Quickly, he took up my hand and pressed his lips against it, softly.
For a moment, there was nothing else in the world. The space around up was unsure and blurred, and I couldn't even
hear the Sea. There was only Arnold, and the feeling in me from having him here. Stronger then the pulse beneath my skin.
Suddenly, a loud, disturbing whoop and multiple hollars broke the moment. Both Arnold and I looked upwards to the rocky
cliff above us. There stood a pack of crew mates, all of whom I was aqquainted with. Kian McGee himself was the leader,
being followed by Mahon McSharr, Rowan O'Toole, Eivind of Norway and a Man named Leif. They all cheer in unison.
"Atta' way, me boy! Make tha' Princess swoon!" Mahon shouts down to us, then, as an afterthought, adds,
"No 'ard feelin's thare, eh' Princess?!"in his thick Celtic Accent, which can be a bit hard to understand at times.
I tilt my neck and shout back, "None at all, Mahon, since I will not be made to swoon by the likes of this boy!"
The give a defeated moan, proof that they had heard the insult.
I turn back to Arnold, a triumphant grin on my lips, and he laughs, shaking his head,
"Helga, such a KIND, MILD maid as you...I've never met before." he mocks good-naturedly.
"Nor shall you ever again." I return, "Now, come, let us finish our walk. You could tell me all you did today, And I will
bore you with news of my Castle."
"I would be delighted to be bored by you." he jests smartly.
I take his arm as he quickly pockets the part of my dress, and we walk in the opposit dierection of the boat. All the while,
we could hear from behind us the gleeful hoots of the men behind us. But it didn't matter.
We were too caught up in eachother.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My eyes bolt open and I gulp in air, realizing I havn't been breathing for a few minutes now.
I sit up straight, resisting the urge to close my eyes again,
"What the...?" I begin to say, fading out with confusion. I try to move my legs, but find they've been tangled in the thin
cotton sheets of my bed. What was that?! I look back at my pillow, then face forward again, my eyes darting around
the heart-filled walls of my room. There's no Sea, there's no ship, and there's no Arnold.
"Just...a Dream." I pant out, still cathing my breathing, trying to convince myself. Yeah, that was just a dream. Just like
every other I've had about Arnold. Nothing special, I probably won't even remember in by the time I get to school.
But, no, that's not right.
I've never had a dream like that before.
It was all too real, it had too much detail. It was almost a memory. A memory of something that I know never happened,
but was too familiar not to be true. My dreams never tell me what I'm thinking. My dreams never give way to other
memories, like this one. My dreams had always been nothing but pictures. Strange pictures, romantic pictures, sometimes
even frightening pictures. And they could, on a very rare occasion, even help me by being informative. But there had
never been a dream like this. A dream that said so much, without making any sense at all. I don't understand.
But suddenly, I feel very different...like I should have remembered something...Like something should have clicked.
But nothing did, after all, it was just a dream...a dream like a forgotten memory...
Aw, c'mon, Snap out of it, Pataki!
"OLGA!" a rough voice bellows from downstairs. Bob. The Beeper King himself.
"YOU HAVE TEN MINUTES TO GET DOWN HERE, GIRL, OR I'M EATING YOU BREAKFAST!"
I sneer disdainfully, "Coming BOB!" I growl with false sweetness, and then, mutter under my breath, "Like I would
even want the kind of breakfast Mirium cooks. What is it today? Burnt toast with hair gel?"
I hurried into the bathroom, turn on the faucet, and wash my face. The water was luke-warm, and it ran through
my fingers, smooth as silk. I stare into the clearness, instantly interested. The water drips down my neck,
past my shoulders. Slowly, I cup my hands, gathering the crystal-like liquid.
My eyes lose focus as the light from the bathroom bounces off the ripples. The rush of water invades my ears,
disattaching me from the entire world. Glossy beads of wet form on my skin, as the melody of the water being emptied
from my hands lulls me into a strange state of being. A murmur invades the back of my mind. At first just an
immitation of a heartbeat, but soon, a word starts to form from the faint pulse...
Remember...
Remember...
"OLGA! WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY RUNNING THE WATER SO LONG?! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO RUN
A BEEPER EMPIRE IF YOU'RE WASTING MY MONEY ON WATER?!" My body jolts at hearing Big Bob roar
from downstairs. I quickly turn off the water and run back into my room, and take out my drees.
"Yeah Yeah Bob, cool it!" I yell back.
I space out sometimes, when I wash my face or take a shower. Something about the water...
Not like in my dream! I don't LOVE water. That's stupid, why would I love something that isn't human?
Probably for the same reason I love a human who doesn't love me...
But, I've never felt any bond to water. Not like the me in my dream...
Have I?
I walk over to my mirror and check my hair, making sure it had stayed in pigtails from the previous night.
It's not like I haven't had dreams of Arnold before. Just like that one. Where I would be the Princess, and he would call
me beautiful. This was just a...stranger one. Maybe I'd better start checking the labels on that bag of chips I ate
yesterday. They're probably just as bad as the Pork Rinds.
I reach my hands up to straighten my Pink Bow.
I'll just stop thinking about it. Why do I care so much about a stupid dream?!I don't know WHY I'm getting so weird
about it. Helga, ol' Girl, you need a Cat-Scan.
I take a quick peek at my shrine, uncovering the curtain of clothes to get to it. Sorry, my love, no time for ceremonies
today, I'm late, and I don't want to miss seeing the true you at school. Oh, may this be the day I confess my love?
I rush downstairs and barrel out the door, already knowing I didn't have time to eat, not that I was all that dissapointed
about it. The muscles in my legs strain as a run to the bus stop. A few people give me understanding looks as I dash by,
remembering the days when they, too, made the faithful run in the obscenly early hours of morning to get to the bus shelter.
Finally, I arrive at my stop, grabbing hold of a signpost and panting for air. I only have to wait a few seconds before I see
the bus turn the corner, lazily pulling up to me, the driver allowing the doors to clank open harshly.
I take a step forward, my foot landing in a puddle from last nights storm. I look down at it. The wavlets, instead of lapping
out from my foot--the thing that had cause the disturbance in the water--actually lap against it, surrounding it. Strange...
"Hey kid, you gettin' on, or what?!" the bus-driver snarls impatiently.
I shoot him an annoyed scowl, which he igores compleatly, to my outrage. I clamber up the step and put in my fair.
"...Because it would be a tragedy if I made you three seconds late." I sneer at him, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
I take my seat with Phoebe.
"Salutations, Helga." she says, her voice high and chipper.
"Mornin' Pheebs." I say evenly. Dark-Haired Hand maiden? Captured from the far east?
Gerald and Arnold sit behind us, and Gerald peeks his head over the seat,
"Hey Helga, way to space out back there." he ridicules, trying to provoke me. Dark-Skinned Companion?
Why does it all fit so well?
"Helga...are you ok?" the sailor's voice takes me back to the real world. No. This isn't a Sailor! It's just Arnold!
He had walked into the bus aisle, so that he could face me.
Tanned.
Those eyes.
The Bastard-Child.
True Beauty...
"Helga...?" he says unsurely. The thoughts break. No, this is not the Arnold from my dreams. It can't be.
I snap back and glower at him, feeling my old self once more, "Whadda'ya want, Footbalhead? You think
Helga G. Pataki can't take care of Herself?! Newsflash, Bucko, I don't need therapy from Mr. 'Do The Right Thing.'"
He stays in the aisle looking defeated, if not a bit hurt, "Sorry, Helga, I just wanted to see if you were alright."
I scoff, "Oh, I'm just peachy. Everything's just roses for me." I spat in contempt,
"Now, one side, Arnoldo, you're blocking traffic!"
He sighs dejectedly and sits back down in his seat.
Phoebe shoots me a look, trying to make me feel guilty. I smirk at her. Nope, I've been doing this for too long. No
one person can make me feel guilt for the things I do to that darling boy. I do it all by myself.
When we arrived at school, we had barly been out of the bus three minutes before the bell rang.
"Is this one of those days when you're going to be exceptionally hard on...ice cream?" Phoebe asked as we got our
books from our lockers, using the name that we both unspokenly knew meant Arnold.
I give her a wicked grin, "Hope so, Pheebs, hope so."
She shakes her head a little, but still smiles.
We get into class just as the bell rings, and everyone settles into thier seat,
"Why Helga," Rhonda jeers, "I couldn't help but notice how out of it you seemed, getting on the bus. Really, how is it
that you managed to stare at your foot for five minutes without--"
"Aw, Can it Princess! Or Ol' Betsy will have you sucking your meals out of a straw!" I answer loudly, holding up my
infamous fist to show that what I'd said wasn't a threat, it was a promise.
Her mouth drops open dramaticly, "Well I never!" she gasps.
"Yeah? Well now you have." I retort.
"Class, Class, Listen up, I have a very special annoucment!" Mr. Simmons says as he breezes into the room.
We all face him, waiting for what he's going to say.
His eyes wander around the room for a moment before he beems at all of us joyfully,
"Class, I'm very pleased to announce, that instaed of doing our library project of Beach Ecosystems, as we had planned
today, I've arranged for a bus to pick us up in ten minutes to go to the Beach so we can see the enviroment using a
'Hands-on' approach! Won't that be be wonderful?!" He claps his hands together, delighted he'd thought of it.
"A whole day at the beach? Alright!" Sid celebrates.
"All those Hot Dog and Ice Creams stands... this is gonna' be great!" Harold drools.
"I 'rekon I'll find meh' a pet crab or summin' like that." Stinky drawls.
"The insect life!" Nadine breathes,
"The Plant Life!" Sheena sighs,
"The sand that gets in your shorts and shoes!" Eugenes reminds bringtly.
But I can't speak. I can't think of a single thing about the beach, except one.
The Sea.
We're going to the Sea.
Somehow, this can't be good.
But then, why does it feel that way?
And why do I need the salt water so much? Why does it hurt not to have it here?
The whole class loads the bus in excitment, but none more then me, because the same thought keeps repeating, on and
on in my head, and I whisper it to the Sea.
I'm coming...
I'm coming...
~*~ End of Chapter One~*~
Yay! I've Finshed it!!! I Know, loads of crap, but I needed to get it out. I like Norse legends, and Helga makes the
perfect princess, dontcha' think? Sorry if some of the history is messed up, I'm going on a lot of different books. It
case you don't know about some of the stuff Helga was talking about in her dream, Here are some terms:
Odin- King of the Gods (Doi!)
Asgard- Home of the Immortals and gateway to the Nine worlds, Think of it as a Norse version of Heaven.
Yggdrasil- The world tree, under which the three sisters, Being, Neccessity and Fate, sit at their loom and weave
the lives of people.
The Midgard Serpant- A Snake who's coils encirle the entire Earth.
Okay, I promise that the next chapter will be more interesting...and it'll be better, too!^_^
PLEASE OH PLEASE Don't give up on this story cuz it seems pointless right now. It'll make sense soon, cross my
heart. Okay, it's time to say ttfn!
Wishing u...
Luv
Life
Luck
n' Lafta
~*~CD~*~