Before we begin...

Thanks to those who voted, and chose the story they wanted me to write next. The Temple Walls and Carry You ended up receiving equal votes at the cut-off time, and so I have made the decision to go ahead with The Temple Walls. Two main reasons for that choice being that 1) this story is by far the shorter of the two, and 2) I had certain parts of this story already written, therefore, making it easier to complete. However, that doesn't mean Carry You isn't going to happen - what I plan to do is complete this story, and then begin both Carry You and the Angela On The Couch sequel simultaneously. I hope this appeases you all, and if it does not, then you can send me hate-mail detailing my utter betrayal.

The Temple Walls
Sometimes, you need to slow down and take a closer look at what you left behind...at what was written on the temple walls.

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Useful Information
FTI and TJM both happened – as did the premise (as per The Pataki's spin-off) that Arnold moved away sometime after TJM. In this case, Arnold and his parents returned to Hillwood after TJM (10 years old) but then moved back to San Lorenzo two years later (12 years old).

Co-ordinates
Co-ordinates underneath the chapter headings relate to the location the chapter occurs in – obviously, since Hillwood and San Lorenzo are not real places, the co-ordinates used for them are borrowed from other, real, places. Co-ordinates are as follows...
Hillwood: 40°41'34"N, 73°59'25"W; San Lorenzo: 4°55'22"N, 52°19'37"W; Washington DC: 38°53'42"N, 77°02'12"W
Understanding/knowing the co-ordinates is not entirely necessary – the words in the chapter should make location very clear.

Disclaimer
I absolutely, definitely do not own Hey Arnold, nor make any gain (besides your lovely reviews) from putting the characters into adorable little situations such as this one. Comprende mi amigas?

Oh, Disclaimer #2
Spanish in this story is achieved with the aid of Google Translate – I claim no sound knowledge of the Spanish language and I'm sure there are horrid translations throughout. I apologise in advance.

Muchacho Con El Pelo Aciano

4°55'22"N, 52°19'37"W

Flashback - Eleven Years Ago

Helga Pataki closed her eyes, the stream of pure spring water descending from the rocky ledge above and ricocheting over her shoulders. Droplets of fresh, cold water meandered along her pale skin, easing the muggy heat of the dense surrounding jungle landscape. Arnold Shortman held her lanky figure tight against his own, tracing lazy circles against the flat of her shoulder-blade that made her legs turn to jelly.

Not far into the distance, she could faintly make out the feather-light footsteps of the Green Eyed warriors, traversing deep into the tropical foliage during their afternoon hunt. Most days, Helga would have liked to join them, as they taught her traditional customs and almost made her blush each and every time they called her Warrior Princess. However, today she happily forewent tactically enveloping herself in mud, and learning to pin-point strike with a hand carved spear – in favour of spending an afternoon with the boy she loved unconditionally.

Arnold pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, spending tingles down her spine, and she blinked, slowly raising her eyes to meet his. Her hands danced across his chest, slightly broader than last she saw him, and his beautiful skin tanned far darker than it had ever been in Hillwood. His eyes, she swore, shone a deeper emerald than in his slightly younger years, and his blonde hair shimmered in the jungle sun, but drooped underneath the steady fall of crisp, cool water. Her heart swelled to know, that whenever a lock of cornflower hair fell across his forehead with the weight of water, she could reach up with no hesitations and sweep it back into place.

"I love you, Helga." he stated simply, a bright smile on his face and his hand still tracing lazy loops across her skin. His eyes locked onto hers, as she wriggled her hands free from her sides, splashing through the current of falling water as she lifted them to rest upon his shoulders.

"I love you, too."

Pulling her closer, Arnold bent to softly brush his lips against her own, and Helga exhaled slowly as his eyes, wide with anticipation, silently asked permission. She almost rolled her eyes at his prodigal chivalry, but instead secured her hands at the nape of his neck and pulled him forward, initiating the closer contact. On their own volition, her eyes slipped shut once more as their lips moved together, her brain working overtime to commit to memory the way he tasted of native red berries. Daringly, she slid her tongue gently across his lower lip, heavily anticipating his reaction. His hands, warm against her bare skin, dropped from her shoulder blades in surprise and instinctively grasped at her hips before reciprocating.

Arnold broke away slowly, moments later, panting heavily and gathering her tightly into his embrace, arms moving around her mid-back and lifting her into the air with once swift movement. Helga squealed girlishly, embarrassingly, in response and wrapped her long legs around his waist to steady herself. Her hands grasped at his shoulders, cheeks tingling with rushing warmth both at her embarrassing verbal reaction and at their intimate position, and Arnold chuckled slightly.

"When did you get so strong, Football Head?" she challenged, a gigantic untameable grin betraying any sarcasm in her words.

Arnold smirked at her, knowingly, "Hmm, maybe around the time I grew taller than you?" he suggested with a triumphant look. Helga narrowed her eyes and huffed at his sneaky reminder that he was, in fact, now the taller of the two by just a fraction.

Gripping her tighter against him, Arnold removed all thoughts of growth-spurts from her mind, as he spun them in fluid circles, periodically drenching them both underneath the slim stream of falling water. Helga shook her head slightly as he slowed, displacing some of the water droplets that clung to her eyelashes and dripped down onto her lips. Her blonde hair, frizzed into messy waves from the jungle heat, now stuck straight and damp to her neck and shoulders. Smiling, she wiped beads of water from Arnold's forehead and shifted in his arms, moving to capture his lips with her own once more. Still holding tight, they kissed languidly beneath the rocky ledge, before Arnold carefully dropped her back onto her feet.

"Helga," Arnold said thoughtfully, as her feet found the smooth rocks beneath the lake surface once more. He moved forward, slipping his hand into hers, and pulling them toward the lake shore. "I want to show you something."

Helga paused, frowning, and considered putting up a fight, wanting nothing more than to continue easing the summer heat beneath the pure, cool water. Sensing her hesitation, Arnold turned slightly and pointed toward their intended destination. Her breath caught as she laid eyes upon it, a large, ancient building made entirely of rock and built into the sloping rocks atop the waterfall. Wordlessly, she intertwined her fingers with Arnold's, following him onto the lakebed and up a steep path, toward what Helga assumed must be a temple, perhaps dedicated to a god of the Green Eyed people. She noticed, as they drew closer, intricate carvings engraved into the aged stones, depicting saviors and warriors alike.

"Woah..." she breathed, eyes glued to small green gems, placed upon the chest of each carefully carved hero and heroine. Each stroke, etching, made into the rock was precise, perfect, ornate.

Arnold grinned, squeezing her hand as they approached the entrance, riddled with strangely placed stones, tall and thin. "This is the Temple of the Adventurers." he explained, moving her with him through the rocks, making a short and concise maze that Helga quickly realized, without prior knowledge, would be a timely process to figure out. Inside, her eyes fell upon a large, stony altar dripping with dazzling green emerald gems, sparkling in the filtered sunlight peeking through gaps and cracks in the outer rocks. Arnold moved forward, headed toward the elaborate platform, "My parents got married here."

Helga followed, unblinkingly and in awe, her eyes drifting across the tall stone arch, etched with Spanish she could not understand, but unique Green Eyes symbols she instantly recognized. Love, depicted by a shape similar to an eye but filled with a small waved line and two dots by the left-hand corner, rested above all at the very center of the altar. Surrounding it, two on either side, were the symbols for strength, courage, honesty and unity. Suddenly, years of fantasies and blissful dreams about marrying Arnold in a traditional, western church seemed irrelevant. Her heart skipped a beat, breath momentarily hitching at the concept of getting married, here, in such an ancient, beautiful place. One in which his parents, whom Helga adored, had said their vows.

Questions, statements, poetic words and sappy mutterings, all warred within her mind, threatening to burst from her lips at any given moment. Instead, she held back, ignoring daydreams of tribal weddings and the creeping sadness of her quickly approaching departure, back home to Hillwood. She and Arnold, for the foreseeable future, would be miles and continents apart and so, her mind shifted back toward his statement, the topic of his own parents. "How old were they?" she asked, "When they got married?"

Arnold startled slightly beside her, her sudden question echoing throughout the previously silent space, loud against sturdy stone walls. His hand, still resting in hers, motioned toward the grand arch and he smiled as he pulled her toward it. "Twenties," he answered, as they sat down on smooth, gray stone, "more than ten years older than we are now."

Helga nodded, shuffling closer and nestling her head against his shoulder, reveling in the warmth still radiating from his skin. "Ten years..." she echoed contemplatively, as his arm intuitively snaked around her shoulder, pulling her closer and into a more comfortable position. She let her eyes wander the temple walls, mind far off, imagining a future that seemed so far away.

"What do you think we will be doing in ten years time?" Arnold mused, shifting slightly to look at her directly.

Scoffing, Helga rolled her eyes, "I don't know about you, bucko, but Helga G. Pataki will be running the world." she assured him confidently, "Or, at least the United States."

Arnold grinned, amused, and Helga hid her pleased smile, knowing he believed in her, did not doubt her in the least. He never doubted her, had no reason to, he said. It made her feel strong and safe, all at once, that everything would be just fine. "So what about you..." she wondered tentatively, "what will you be doing?"

"I'll be right beside you." he promised her, instantaneously, gathering her closer and gazing at her with utmost sincerity. He tapped her chin, and leaned down, his kiss tender and affectionate, and one of the rare times he had ever fully initiated. Helga sighed softly, lost in the feeling - his actions confirming, insuring his words, an unbreakable assurance that he would be forever by her side.

"Okay, Football Head," she said, slightly softer than usual, "but you don't get to make the executive decisions, alright?"

Laughing happily, Arnold nodded, "Whatever you say, Helga." he assented, "Whatever you say."