Duckling Alone
She has hated Christmas.
Ever since she was 3.
One Christmas day, her father just wasn't around for her anymore. Literally.
He had up and left her. Or been kidnapped. Or maybe even simply vanished into thin air.
However he had left, the result was still the same.
She was alone, and she was homeless.
At first, little Lena had been crippled with tears and fears. Had she done something wrong? Did her Papa not want her anymore? Was she too naughty and Santa took him away to punish her? Or maybe her dead Mama wanted Papa back with her.
That Christmas when she was 3, she spent it alone, with no presents or loved ones, in a dark and cold house.
She stayed there for a week.
On New Year's Day, a strange feeling emanating within her aroused her from her dingy bed.
Seeing that it was still dark outside, with heavy piles of snow covering the roof of her house and the ground outside, Lena pulled on one of her dad's snow coats and trudged down the staircase. Her feet shivered on the cold, creaking wood.
She pulled a chair from the dining table for her to stand on and scavenge what little food was left in the pantry. She settled for chocolate biscuits.
Then she made her way to the living room. And that's when it happened.
A powerful surge of wind gusted through the unlit, empty fireplace, leaving Lena's fluffy baby feathers bristling with chilliness. She wrapped the parka tighter around her small frame.
Another gust came, more powerful this time, blowing most of the ashes from the fireplace all over the living room. Lena was now a trembling, charcoal-peppered mess.
Then, a voice from the blackness spoke to her.
"Do not worry, my child. Come forth."
The voice was full of warmth, and soothing to young Lena's ears, so the small duckling waddled forth, closer to the fireplace. A twinkle of purple and pink caught her eye.
There, at the very bottom of the fireplace, still mostly covered by what little of the ash remained, was a purple gemstone.
"What are you waiting for, darling? Pick it up."
Lena did. And she found that it was not just a gemstone, but a necklace.
"Well done," the voice said to her, and the crystal on the pendant glowed pink. The duckling gasped.
"Do not fear, young one. I am here to help."
"Help me?" Lena asked.
"Yes, child."
"How?"
"You are full of magic, young one."
"Magic – like a fairy?" Lena asked, delighted.
"Yes, yes," the voice answered, "I can help you to survive without your parents and teach you magic."
"You will do that? For me?"
"Yes – and do you know why, little one?"
"Why?"
"Because I'm your magical aunt. But you can call me Aunt Magica."
"I… I've always wanted to be special," Lena sighed dreamily, unconsciously clutching the pendant tighter.
"And with my help, you will," Magica promised, "Now, for your first test, try and use your imagination to project me onto a wall."
"Project?" asked the little duckling.
"Project, as in like a light from a torch," Magica explained patiently to the 3-year-old.
"I'll… I'll try," Lena promised. Then she closed her eyes and willed as hard as she could.
When she opened her eyes again, she saw on the worn wall of the living room two red eyes staring back at her. She stumbled back, but then remembered that it was her aunt's projected form.
"Well done, dear. Well done. Now I can visit you from the shadows any time you like from now on."
"I like that," Lena smiled, a warm flow of reassurance entering her little heart.
The first year on her own, Lena loved it.
She didn't have to go to kindergarten, her aunt helped her take the sweetest candies from the supermarket without having to pay for it, and she learned how to summon and utilize skills like super-strength and invisibility.
She could spend the whole day at the park, and travel on buses and trains unnoticed.
This was freedom. And it felt good.
She missed the friends that she had made at kindergarten, though.
The second year on her own, Lena learned from her aunt how to heal her own wounds.
Broken bones took a bit longer though.
But her enchanted aunt was very pleased and proud of her progress.
One day, Lena asked her aunt, "How come I can't see you like I can see normal people?"
"Little one, I am trapped in this necklace of yours," Magica explained sorrowfully.
"Why?" Lena asked, upset and disturbed. The thought of being imprisoned in a gemstone strung up with chains was nightmarish to the 5-year-old duckling.
"I was trapped here, by a monster with no soul, and no compassion," Magica continued.
"But… but how can I get you out?" Lena asked desperately.
"In time, when your powers have grown stronger," her aunt answered, "Do not worry. You have greatness in you, Lena, and one day you shall stand tall, and we shall be together. But for now, smile – and be brave."
"Okay Auntie," Lena replied, sniffling a little. She would do her best to be brave and smile luminously in times of darkness.
But if only she knew how hard that would be when she got older.
And healing powers wouldn't work on a broken soul.
The third year mostly flew by with no problems. Until Thanksgiving approached.
The sirens of the police awoke her from her early evening nap. She saw the law enforcement cars pull up the driveway.
Lena scrambled out of her bed, which had now attained multiple holes in the blanket and the mattress, and snatched up her necklace from the bedside table.
"Auntie! What do I do?" she pleaded, hoping her heart out for a miracle.
The shadow slinked up beside a window. "You'll have to make a run for it, Lena. They're not gonna be happy that you are living without your parents."
"But I'm not! I'm living with you!"
"They won't care about that!" the shadow yelled at the duckling, who flinched back a little, "They only care about taking you to prison!"
"No… no-no-no-no…" Lena mumbled, tears starting to flow freely as she panicked.
"Lena! Listen to me! You have to run and you have to run now!"
And she did.
Down the staircase, into the basement, and out the back entrance. The leaves blown about in the backyard by the fierce autumn winds helped conceal her, along with a little magic from her aunt.
Try as she might, try as much as she wanted to, Lena never looked back.
The fourth year alone was her hardest. The year when her heart grew darker, and her spirit more heavy with grief.
Her first dwelling place was under an arched stone bridge that ran over a river.
She quickly learned telekinesis from her aunt to pick up and kill the fish in the river for food. She started her campfires with laser vision and twigs and branches that she scavenged for during the day.
She found an abandoned crate big enough for her to shelter in during the long, cold nights. The only possession she had brought with her was the shirt on her back and her blanket.
She often shivered and cried herself to sleep.
She also smelled terrible after a couple of weeks, though bathing in the river – despite its frostiness – was refreshing. She got accustomed to it after a few more tries.
But then one day that bridge, and the suburb it was part of, was claimed by the Beagle Boys. One morning, just before dawn, a scavenging patrol scoured the stream and were nearing the bridge. They found the little duckling sleeping in her box.
They picked her up and threw her to the ground.
The rough impact and the taste of blood in her beak jolted Lena to consciousness. She screamed her little lungs out as the Beagles advanced on her, cackling and taunting.
Then a shroud of darkness consumed them, and when it evaporated all that was left were their bodies, devoid of life.
Magica told her niece to make a run for it again.
Worn blanket draped across her small frame, Lena did.
Her second refuge was in an abandoned car factory.
Well, at least it was better sleeping in the seats of rusting automobiles than it was in an enclosed and claustrophobic crate.
Year five, and honestly, this duckling was getting weary of life.
She had to walk to a nearby town to scrape through the bins for the slightest scraps.
Half a piece of buttered toast was just enough to satisfy her for breakfast.
Her lunch consisted of 10 stolen hot dogs – which was more than enough to make her nauseous. But honestly, Lena would take what she would get. Stealing was getting easier now, her invisibility spells lasting a few minutes at a time now.
Dinner was usually dumped noodles, or pieces of sushi.
What made her smile the most though was when she found a decent stash of fish and chips, or nachos covered with cheese-sauce, in the garbage.
Year six was mostly uneventful.
Same old, same old.
Wake up, walk to the town, breakfast in the trash, practice, lunch in the trash, practice, maybe the occasional theft, dinner in the trash, walk back to factory, sleep.
No one disturbed her hiding place at all during the year, which was good. And that left a lot of time in her schedule to practice with her Auntie.
Her magic grew stronger every day. Perhaps this way of life would be worth something after all.
She thought that too soon.
Early at the start of her seventh year alone, Lena found out from listening in to gossip around the town, that construction teams would begin tearing down that factory by the start of next week. Which only gave her a day to pack.
So, in a leather backpack that she had nicked from the local high school, she packed her belongings – which consisted of a bag of cookies, two can of beans, a water bottle, her old blanket, and a new black and grey striped shirt.
And she found herself trekking again. Miserably.
It was still winter, and her naked webbed feet felt numb with cold. They felt almost frozen, and it seemed like they were gonna fall off.
"Why me?" shuddered Lena, bracing herself against a chilly breeze.
Her trailing shadow formed into that of her aunt. Magica's only expressive features, her red glowing eyes, scowled as she gazed upon the duckling.
"Frostbitten feet – now that will never do," Magica commented.
She conspired with her niece that tonight, when they got back to Duckburg city, they would break into a shoe shop and steal whatever Lena wanted.
They did exactly that, though Magica was left befuddled when Lena only left with two pairs of the same type of green sneakers – one was larger and would be used when Lena grew into them, and the other one Lena would start wearing tomorrow.
Tomorrow came, and with elation tainted by bitterness, Lena slipped on her new shoes.
They kept her feet warm, so they did their purpose. Though she would have to wear them most of the time, to make sure they didn't get stolen. She didn't have a house to keep her belongings safe anymore, after all.
Still, she hated the unnatural habit. Ducks were much more happier going barefoot when they could, and would only wear shoes when nature gave them a reason to, or if they needed to be formal.
Or, if they were a deluded fashionista with a repulsive air of arrogance around them. (Lena hated ducks like that.)
But alas, she didn't have a roof over her head like most other ducks. She only had a backpack, the clothes on her back, and the shoes on her feet.
She could, she should, consider herself fortunate.
So she'd have to live with it.
Year eight alone.
Balcony life wasn't so bad, if only for one little thing.
Her aunt was becoming more stricter in magic lessons.
"Your form is not correct! Straighten yourself! More power comes from the will! Stop being a weakling and learn to fend for yourself!" were her aunt's favorite phrases to say nowadays.
Well, what did her aunt want from her? Enhanced endurance was an advanced skill to try and learn.
One day, Lena got fed up.
"You're not my Mom, and you are definitely not my Dad, so stop ordering me about like I'm your child!"
Her aunt's shadow simply glared at her.
"How can you feel attachment to a mother you never even knew? And your father… have you ever considered the fact that he has hidden some truths from you?"
That was a verbal punch in the gut for Lena.
"What… what do you mean?"
"I am cursed to stay in this crystal, forever – until the end of time."
"But who would do that to you?" asked Lena, trembling.
"Scrooge McDuck. The world's richest duck, a trillionaire who resides in Duckburg. A being who exists solely for greed, and nothing else. He imprisoned me here when I suggested that he be more… charitable."
"But are you stuck there… forever?" Lena inquired hesitantly.
"Yes – unless you can steal the most precious thing in Scrooge McDuck's life – the object that gives him his most solid defence against us – his first ever dime."
"How's a dime a defence?"
"Possessions can be used by people to channel magic – or to defend against it," Magica explained, "You have to steal that dime. But sadly, you are not ready."
"Why does it sound like you're blaming me?" Lena queried, a slight indignance to her tone.
"You are often stubborn, and a lot of the time, stupid. You are brilliant when you commit yourself, but that is few and far between. You'd rather draw pictures and write frivolous dreams and stories instead of living in the glory of magic," Magica ranted, "That is what normal people do! You aren't normal! You are superior! Or you would be – if you didn't waste time on such meaningless things."
"I don't have to take that!" Lena snapped, and did her best to will her aunt's shadow to nothingness. It would only be temporary, but at least she'd have time to herself again – which was a curse and a blessing.
At first, it seemed as if she'd done it, and her aunt wouldn't be bothering her for a while.
Then, her shadow melted into her aunt's form again.
"Now, now, dear. Maybe you should grow stronger before trying a ridiculous stunt like that again."
Lena kicked a dumpster in frustration and screamed.
Year nine.
"Would you get off that newfangled nonsense!" her aunt's shadow shouted at her as she scrolled through internet pages on her new (stolen) cellphone.
"Why would I? I get much more joy from this than I do with you," the snarky 12-year-old shot back, "Besides, I've already practiced for 4 hours straight."
"Do not be ungrateful, child! I am providing for you even though I am trapped in this abominable prison!" her aunt sneered.
"Yeah, you're providing for me so well – which is why I'm stuck living here in this godforsaken amphitheatre down by the cold docks," Lena grumbled, not even looking up from her phone.
"You will practice!"
"Eh, probably not."
"Then you can have all of your fun living by yourself!" the shadow screeched at her, and inwardly Lena flinched.
She didn't want her aunt to leave her, as overbearing as Magica was.
"Alright," Lena sighed, putting her phone by her bag, "Fine."
"Good. And now listen closely, my heir," Magica commanded, and reluctantly Lena obeyed, "Though you have yet to complete your training, you have progressed far. I shall christen you with a moniker truly worthy of your heritage. Lena will only become an illusion now. From this day on, you will rise, Minima!"
"Minima, seriously?" Lena rolled her eyes, "That's like, a cheap knockoff of your name, Auntie."
"Child, are you serious?" Magica rumbled dangerously.
Lena wisely decided to shake her head.
No.
Ten years of living alone. Ten years of living with her aunt.
And yet her aunt hadn't planned anything to celebrate the occasion. At first, Lena thought she had forgotten. Then the days passed. And then days began turning into weeks.
It seemed that family celebrations and anniversaries were secondary matters to Magica.
What mattered most to her aunt, it seemed, was Revenge.
She listened drably to her aunt's umpteenth repetition of the plan.
"When you see those ducklings take their boat out, one of them will not fit in. Chances are that the one left behind will be the young Vanderquack, friend to the McDuck-Duck heirs and granddaughter of the McDuck Mansion housekeeper. Befriending her is your best bet at gaining access to the mansion."
"Gee, maybe I should write this down," Lena muttered.
"Minima!" scolded her aunt. The now-teenaged duckling waved her aunt off.
"Ugh, just stick to the plan," Magica ordered, before her essence retreated into the crystal necklace.
"Well, that won't be hard," Lena grumbled, and pouted mulishly as she set about writing her "bait letters" – fake messages that would draw in her target.
It worked quicker than she expected.
"I'm here to save either a sailor, a group of sailors, or a shark from a sea-serpent-pirate-M-agent-and-or-scurvy!" a girl duckling's voice boldly announced.
Lena glanced up at her target. The kid couldn't have been more than 9.
Hmm. This shall be interesting for me. She looks to be everything I never was.
"What?" the teenager replied, feigning befuddlement, "N-No, those are from me. I'm just messing around, you know, like a game."
"Fun!" the duckling replied, eagerly scooting over to where Lena sat, "Let me try!"
A few seconds of scribbling and plopping parchment in a bottle later, the younger girl was finished and passed up her work to the older one for critique.
"Please recycle this bottle. Okay, I don't think you get this game," Lena commented, though her heart concealed a pulse of mirth at the younger girl's unique style.
"Hi, I'm Webby," the kid replied.
She trusts so easily. Is that weird, or am I weird?
"Mm, hey," Lena said as she shook Webby's outstretched hand British-style.
"Is that a vintage Sumerian talisman?"
And… she's pretty sharp for her age, too.
"Dunno, found it at a thrift shop," came Lena's quick reply, her hand sparing no moment in tucking her necklace under her shirt.
"Oh, uh, you got some pink in your hair – I think someone pranked you," Webby stated not 3 seconds later.
Well, she noticed that recent change before my Aunt did.
"It's supposed to look this way," Lena said simply, betraying no surprise at the younger duckling's quick-wittedness.
True enough…
"I like your shirt!" Webby quickly commented in reply.
"Mm, not my shirt – actually got it off the lead singer of the Featherweights after a gig in Paris," Lena lied. Well, it wasn't a total lie. Her shirt was an authentic copy that quickly sold out in stores – only that she again stole it from one of the few high schools in Duckburg.
"You've been to Paris?!" Webby squealed in delight. Lena almost broke her aloof façade in favour of chuckling.
"You haven't? Oh, you've gotta go! It's like here, only fancier."
"I've always wanted to go to Paris," Webby sighed dreamily, "Crawl around in the catacombs, maybe touch a skull…"
Webby didn't notice that she had stepped beside the last bottle in stock until her foot found itself kicking glass and a splash rang through the air one second later.
"Well, game over," Lena muttered as she watched the bottle get carried away by a mild current.
"I got it!" Webby replied enthusiastically, and hopscotched across the nearby rocks. Well, more like utilized insane gymnastic skills to reach the bottle and retrieve it. She made it look astoundingly fun.
And she has more talent than I had at that age.
As this wistful observation crept into the back of Lena's mind, Webby's infectious upbeat behaviour beat it away.
"Here!" Webby beamed proudly, handing her the bottle.
"That was actually pretty cool," Lena genuinely stated, her admiration for this little fluffball of energy growing by the second, "Are you like, in the circus or something?"
"Circus acrobats keep elephant hairs in their pockets for good luck!" Webby randomly blabbered, "I don't know why I just told you that, or why I'm still talking, or why I pointed out the fact I'm still talking, or–"
"Whoa, easy Flippy," Lena soothed.
So she's socially awkward and I'm not. That is at least one thing I can help her out with, if Aunt Magica would allow that. Why am I hoping that she does…?
"Webby," the younger duckling corrected.
And I haven't properly introduced myself to her yet. Wow.
"Lena," the older duckling stated her own name, "Thanks for the bottle."
Lena put her last fake message in and tossed it backwards in a wide arc to the ocean. It's not like anyone had to read the last thing that she wrote.
(But for your information, the last thing Lena wrote was in fact not a fake message. Here it is in its entirety: Never mind about coming to help. A friend already has.)
"Hey, do you wanna come with me to this blowout on the edge of town?" Lena asked, turning back to Webby, whose eyes immediately flashed with interest, "It should be cool."
"I've never actually seen a proper explosion!" Webby squeaked with delight.
"It's another name for party," Lena corrected with a smirk, but it wasn't a mean one.
"Yep! Totally knew that!" Webby fibbed sheepishly. Then a thought occurred to her. "Could we just wait for my friends so I could let them know where I'm going?"
"But the party could be over by then. Come on, it'll be an adventure," Lena said. It was her own fib, and to her slight self-loathing it was much more immoral.
There was no party. She just wanted to get herself and Webby in hot water with the Beagle Boys and then assist each other in pulling through for survival. A cliché but often sure-fire way of gaining the trust and friendship of an unsuspecting person. And Webby was that unsuspecting person.
As the 9-year-old joined her in her excursion, Lena pushed down a bite of guilt.
Webby had fallen right into her trap.
But at the same time, Lena hoped that the end result of all this family feuds would spare the young Vanderquack.
Sure, her Aunt needed to be freed, and Webby could become a potential obstacle (and enemy) preventing her from reaching that goal – but at the same time, Lena found herself caring for Webby.
Perhaps it had to do with the fact that Webby had taken a shine to her so easily… and, she obviously saw Lena as a new friend.
Lena was having trouble getting over the fact that Webby was the first friend she had ever had in years…
Years…
Years of being alone, living a cruddy life under many roofs (sometimes not even under a roof at all), getting yelled at by her Auntie, and just in general scraping along in unwanted isolation just to survive… well…
In all honesty, even if Webby might become her enemy in future (hopefully not), Lena was just happy to have found herself a friend.
A friend.
She was no longer alone.
(Her baleful Aunt did not count as company. Besides, she was only a shadow. Not a mother or father duck who would take her in their arms and cradle her whenever she wanted it. Even if her Aunt did ever want to be that sympathetic towards her, she was still just a shadow. She wasn't there for her the way a parent or guardian should be.)
Yes, she was no longer alone.
I'm not alone.
Based on the fandom idea that Magica and Della had something to do with each other's disappearances, and the show's hints that Lena is homeless.
Based on what I wrote here, unless the show gives some actual dates and ages, here are my head-cannon ages for the kids:
Lena (13)
Huey (10)
Dewey (10)
Louie (10)
Webby (9)