Everyone changes with time. A day, a week, a month, a year... they all count. So how much can a group of rag tag 4th graders from P.S. 118 change with junior high, high school, and a whole bunch of history between those seven years? A whole lot.

Years Later

The Sun King

Tristan's face brightened and as a special treat he awarded Helga one of his dazzling smiles that she knew for a fact he reserved especially to charm the pants off of people…literally. And it was for that moment that Helga looked at Tristan V. Nikolais—the once and former Sun King of E.V. Wayside High School— as he amazed her with his over the top glamour and glory and she couldn't breathe.

She just couldn't, and wouldn't dare to breathe—this was very much so a problem.

One would think that after not being around him at all for one year, and not spending too much time around him for two years that his usually techniques would no longer work, but it would seem that he had fine tuned his techniques and they were stronger than ever.

This was very much so a problem for Helga G. Pataki.

"How about we sit down for a while and catch up?" His perfectly shape mouth was asking the question but his gray eyes were telling, no ordering Helga to sit down and talk to him, whether she wanted to or not. So Helga did the only thing that she could in her situation—she nodded her head in agreement.

Tristan's smile remained and, coincidentally enough, he led her to the very same seat that she took where she had her weekly meetings with Garrison.

"So, how are you Helga Geraldine?"

Helga usually cringed whenever someone said her middle name, but for whatever reason Tristan loved calling her by her first and middle name and as a result, she was desensitized to her horrid middle name, at least around him. She used to ask why he insisted on calling her by her god forsaken middle name, but he never gave her a straight answer…so eventually Helga gave up asking.

That was in seventh grade, when he was in ninth grade.

It was only after a few months of knowing him that Helga came to realize that Tristan V. Nikolais never gave a straight answer, that he liked two olives in his martinis—not one—and that he liked to be in control of absolutely everything in his life.

Helga picked up on things rather quickly.

"I was doing well before I saw you." Helga answered truthfully as she tried to get her mind together. She already lost their first battle when she allowed him to drag her to the one of the café booths to talk. Now came Helga's next challenge, the second battle, and Helga was not going to lose to Tristan again.

He tipped back his ink black haired head and laughed, his perfectly white teeth flashed at Helga.

He was in a good mood which meant he had definitely dipped into his alcohol supply before coming to the café. Another thing Helga had learned about Tristan was that he was only in a good mood if he had a buzz going, if not he was rather cranky, to put it lightly.

"You are too silly Helga Geraldine." His gray eyes were flashing at Helga, commanding her to fall underneath his spell, but Helga stood her ground.

Helga knew how to resist Tristan V. Nikolais—it wasn't an easy task, but she could do it if and when she needed to—which was exactly why he was so interested in her.

"If that's how you feel, I guess we could go with that description Tristan V—" Helga began, but was not able to finish saying Tristan's middle name because the raven-haired Sun King already had one of his delicate hands covering her mouth.

Tristan could say her middle name as much as he wanted but no one was allowed to say his, and considering only a few select actually knew what it was, it was hardly ever said.

Tristan tsked and shook a finger at Helga using his free hand. "You and I both know I don't like anyone saying my middle name."

Helga had an overwhelming urge to bite his hand to get it off of her mouth, but knowing Tristan as well as she did, she knew that she actually bite his hand he would take it as something else. Helga resisted her urge; there was no need to give Tristan any ideas.

He was annoyed, Helga could see it flashing around in his gray eyes—he hated when others pushed his boundaries, he was the button pusher, not the button push-ee, he was in control and no one else.

"If I take my hand do you promise not to say it?"

Tristan really didn't like his middle name and Helga was one of the very, very few select who knew why. Tristan had told her once during an uncharacteristic drunken breakdown one night, but he vehemently denied any breakdown of any sort the next morning, after all Tristan V. Nikolais was not weak, therefore he never ever had any breakdown of any sort.

Helga gave him a look and Tristan laughed once again and withdrew his hand from her mouth.

"So? How's life Helga G. Pataki? I see that you've had a haircut, not a good one, but a haircut none the less." Tristan asked, no, demanded answers to his questions as he leaned in closer to Helga from across the table, his typical smirk in place on his lips.

Helga said nothing for a moment.

Could she really tell Tristan V. Nikolais what had been going on in her life and expect him to be understanding and comfort her?

As soon as she realized what she was thinking, Helga knew how much of an oxymoron it was.

There was no way for Tristan to care about anyone else except for himself. The only reason he would even give a fraction of a damn about anyone else was if the benefits for putting in the effort to care for that person outweighed the costs and energy. And in Tristan's world, that rarely happened.

Helga decided it was best if she went with the standard reply. "It's good."

"That's good to hear."

Then there was silence.

"Aren't you going to ask how I've been Helga Geraldine?" Tristan demanded with one naturally perfect eyebrow raised.

Helga snorted. "Why? There's no need to. You and I both know that it must be going good because if it wasn't you'd find a way to make it go exactly the way you want it to."

Tristan gave her another one of his hypnotic smiles. "You know me too well, Helga."

"Yes, and that's the problem."

Tristan opened his mouth to say something but the ringing of Helga's phone cut him off.

It was Alfred.

Helga answered her phone and the butler informed her that he was waiting outside, it would seem that the butler was used to her usual routine of stopping at her newly found, favorite café.

She hung up her phone and slipped it back in her jacket before looking up at Tristan's inquisitive face. He was curious as to who exactly was Alfred, and Helga being Helga, she wasn't going to give him a clue about who he was.

"I've got to go, my ride is here."

"Really?"

Tristan wanted to know more.

"Really."

Too bad Helga wasn't willing to give him any more information.

Helga stood up from the table and was ready to leave, but one of Tristan's strong hands latched itself onto one of her wrists, stopping her from leaving.

Helga simply raised an eyebrow.

Tristan stood up and moved close to her, bending his head down so his face was mere millimeters away from her own.

"What are you doing in three weeks on Friday?"

"Homework."

"It's a Friday night, you shouldn't be at home locked up with your school work," He moved his face in closer so that their foreheads were nearly touching before he smiled at Helga and she could the familiar feeling her legs beginning to jellify. Any normal person's knees would turn to jelly if they had Tristan smiling at them, he was temptation on legs. "You should be with me."

Everything about Tristan seemed to be made for the sole purpose of tempting others.

From the little way he crooked his finger to order people to follow him, the way his gray eyes seemed to burn like it was molten silver when he was amused, the way his black hair always fell perfectly around his face, the way his luscious lips were always in a smirk, just the way he moved—he didn't walk, he prowled.

Helga had come to the conclusion that Tristan was made for seduction a long time ago.

He looked at Helga with his burning gray eyes, smiling, and Helga very much so wanted to agree with him.

That was his talent; he could manipulate people into doing what he wanted.

It was a very good talent for someone who liked, no, relished in being in control.

But even with him nearly hypnotizing Helga into doing what he wanted she still knew what he really wanted, after knowing him for four years Helga got to know his thought process pretty well. "You just want me around so I can come with you to The Fight Night."

Tristan said nothing, he just quirked a corner of his lips and his smile turned into Tristan's customary smirk.

Helga was right and they both knew it.

"Thanks, but no thanks Tristan." Helga saw the look on Tristan's face, he was not happy, and when Tristan Nikolais wasn't happy the world wasn't happy. "Maybe another day.

Tristan's all too perfect face returned to its typical, not to mention deceptively docile features.

Anyone who knew Tristan at all knew that it was all an act.

Tristan got what he wanted, when he wanted it, and he was ruthless.

Perhaps that was why he and Helga got along so well back when she was in J. Quincy Lewis Junior High School.

Helga didn't know why she even bothered to give Tristan hope that she would show up at his Fight Night, but she did and there was no way to reverse it, Tristan would hold her to it even though she didn't want to be.

"Another day then… We should meet up some time later." Tristan said as he brought his face even closer in lieu of an almost kiss before pulling away and letting go of her wrist.

Helga calmly turned around and continued on her way out of the café as if nothing had happened. She kept her eyes straight ahead, not daring her self to look back at him as she counted every step it took her to get out of the café to the safety of the car in her head. She calmly slipped into the back of the town car before she said hello to Alfred and apologized for making him wait. And as Alfred drove towards Upper Hillwood Helga could still feel her heart beating nearly three times as fast as it was supposed to, it felt as if her heart was trying to escape her chest cavity.

Helga was very much so screwed.

Helga's first reaction was to call up Phoebe as soon as she reached her room.

Yes that was the plan.

Call Phoebe, freak out on the phone properly, tell her everything that happened, and surely be reprimanded by the shorter female for giving Tristan V. Nikolais any signs of interests, enough so that Helga would stay away from him before there was a repeat of junior high school.

But as Helga sat on her bed she could not bring herself to quickly dial the familiar seven digit number that had become ingrained in her brain, she just couldn't bring herself to do it, at least not over the phone.

She'd tell her at school, at least that was what Helga's new plan was.

It was better to do things in person, that way when she saw the murderous look on her best friend's face it would erase all the temptations that Tristan brought along with him.

Or at least a good majority of them.

Helga headed to bed extra early that night, not even bothering to go downstairs to enjoy the feast that Alfred had surely cooked up for dinner, not caring that it was only eight o'clock on a Saturday. She needed the extra sleep with all of the extra exertion she had been through.

In fact, Helga deserved the extra sleep after her overly stressful day.

Monday rolled around a little bit too quickly for one Helga G. Pataki. Her Sunday seemed to slip by with her noticing and before she knew it Helga was shouldering her hot pink messenger bag she exited the town car, thanking Alfred for the ride as he gave her a curt 'you're welcome' before driving off.

It was their tradition.

Helga made her way to her second floor locker close to Language Arts Wing of Crinshaw High School, organizing her things and preparing herself for what she knew was going to be a very long, very excruciating day.

Just as she pulled out her own addition of King Lear, the latest play that they were reading in Language Arts, the face of one Sid Delano Gifaldi appeared in the corner of her left eye and her King Lear found itself on the floor of the second floor of Crinshaw High School.

Helga ignored him as she continued to organize her locker.

Sid continued to lean against the locker beside hers with his leather jacket clad arms crossed over his chest. "What, no hello?"

"What?" Helga snapped out of her daze, finally seeing her friend standing next to her, sending a glare in her direction. "When did you get here Sid?"

Sid raised an eyebrow at his friend before picking up the abandoned play on the floor and handing it to its rightful owner. "Are you okay Helga?... Is everything alright?"

Helga nodded slowly before she closed her locker. "… Yea… sure." Helga tried to smile, but it just didn't work out right. Instead of leading Sid to think that she was alright, Helga could see that her demented, not to mention warped, version of a smile only caused the worry lines on Sid's forehead to increase.

"Helga—" Sid began, giving her a look that told her that she was in for a lecture if she didn't stop him before he started. So, Helga did—interrupt him that is.

"Have you seen Phoebe? She's late today."

The lecture look from Sid's face disappeared. He probably thought Helga was fretting over Phoebe's absence… if only he knew that Helga was rather happy Phoebe wasn't around. It delayed the little tidbit of information that Helga was going to have to tell her, fully well knowing that the smaller female will no doubt try to kill once she told her… if Sid knew what was going on he would probably attempt to kill Helga, too.

Sid draped a leather clad arm on Helga's shoulder's not noticing as the blonde nearly tipped forward as a result of the new weight added onto her body. "Remember she told us that she has an appointment with a dentist… her sweet tooth got its revenge and now she needs a filling."

Helga smiled in relief, that meant more time for her to prepare herself, and Sid probably mistook the relieved look on Helga's face as relief for knowing where her best friend was… if only he knew.

"First period then, miss?" Sid asked as he withdrew his arm from her shoulders and offered it to her as gentlemanly as Sid Delano Gifaldi could.

Helga wrapped her arm in Sid's with a smile on her face; she still had a few periods to stall for time. "Yes, let's go off to the land of rock jocks, bimbos, and bubble brains."

Sid gave her a look for the insult that she obviously giving the Golden Ones and their respective girlfriends, and friends, which Helga returned generously.

Their 'looking' game ended when Sid rolled his eyes and began to walk with Helga still attached to his arm. "What am I going to do with you, Pataki?"

Helga smirked at him before leaning closer to whisper into his ear, "Hopefully bend me over your knee and spank me."

Sid smiled down at her and Helga could something playful dancing around in his dark brown eyes. "Why, that's rather kinky, Miss Pataki."

"I know Mr. Gifaldi, and you love it."

Sid nodded his head in agreement. "Too true, Miss Pataki, too true."

The periods flew by and before Helga knew it, or wanted it, it was lunch time.

Helga had dreaded this period since first period when she had been informed of Phoebe's absence by Sid. When Phoebe hadn't shown up to their shared third period class, Helga rejoiced, feeling so relieved and happy she nearly broke out into a jig in the middle of class.

Fortunately for her class, and Helga, Helga was able to control her baser urges.

Helga did not take it lightly that Phoebe had not shown up for third period…that had meant a few more periods of not having to deal with a rather explosive Phoebe G. Heyerdahl… it was a time to rejoice and prepare for the battle that would ensue.

Unfortunately, no Phoebe also meant that she had Eugene as a lab partner.

Those ever so long forty-four minutes were definitely not one the greatest of experiences for Helga.

In fact, if Helga had it her way, Helga was sure that she was never, ever going to have another repeat of one of those incidents ever again… even if it meant accidentally shoving her lab partner out an open window when no one was looking.

Helga happily floated through her following periods, all the while knowing in the back of her mind that she was going to be confronting Phoebe sometime during the day, whether she wanted to or not.

Lo and behold the issue, what Helga had wanted to avoid all day presented itself at lunch.

Lunch was supposed to be a period of rest and relaxation. It was supposed to be a time where everyone can kick back and hang out with their friends before being thrown back into the ninth circle of hell also known as public schooling.

It wasn't supposed be a time where anyone would have to run from their best friend who is trying to kill them, hoping to high hell that their best friend somehow slipped on fry grease, knocking their heads to the ground hard enough that they woke up amnesia (or at least with the last five minutes erased from their memory).

Unfortunately for Helga, she knew that once she told Phoebe of the reappearance of him that she would be facing the latter of the two possible lunch world. Especially once Helga told Phoebe that actually sat down and had a conversation with the heir of the Nikolais Empire.

Helga once again found herself in a situation where she was beyond screwed; in fact one could even go as far to say that Helga was screwed to the nth degree.

As routine demanded it, Helga got to the lunch ahead of time before her two friends. She checked out the lunch selection (Mystery Meat Monday—where the only mystery to the students of Crinshaw High School was how exactly the school district was still allowing their school to feed them shredded mats and Grade D meat under the false pretenses that it was meat) before she sat down at their usual table near the snack machines. The snack machines lines had already started to form—no one in Crinshaw High School their right mind actually ate the Mystery Meat, not even the freshmen dared to even gnaw on a one millimeter cross section.

Unless one had an iron lined stomach then the best course of action when the lunch ladies brought out the Mystery Meat was the snack machine.

It was only a few minutes after Helga sat down when the two doors on opposite side of the cafeteria open to reveal her two best friends. Helga counted the seconds in her head on how long it took them to reach the table—seven seconds—wishing, hoping that it could take longer, all the while knowing that it wouldn't.

Phoebe slammed her books down on the table, with a peeved look on her face—this did not bode well for Helga "I hate dentists… and parents."

Sid smiled as he smoothly slid into his seat. "Why what happened?"

Phoebe plopped herself into her seat with a huff and a roll of her eyes. "Well, to make everything lovely, the dentist gave me a speech about being too old to get cavities before turning on me in front of my mother. And now my mother has officially banned me from eating sweets. She even took out all of the candy and cookies from the kitchen and threw them in the trash." Phoebe crossed her arms over her chest.

"You're kidding right?" Sid asked, trying to hold back his laughter.

Phoebe glared at him as she reached into her brown lunch bag and pulled out a tomato sandwich, baby carrots and cut up celery with a side of ranch dressing, a bottle of water, and a tofu patty, throwing each one onto the table with vengeance, not caring that the ranch dressing splattered onto the table as she did so.

"Does it look like she's kidding?" Phoebe pushed the food away from her before she rested her head against the table. "This is worse than the time she went on that health trip back when I was in eighth grade."

Sid picked up a baby carrot and munched on it. "Well it's not like their around you all the time, it's not like you can't eat sweets when she's not watching."

Phoebe groaned. "I know that, I just don't want to have to be bothered to hide the wrappers and bags."

Sid laughed at Phoebe's misery as he reached for another baby carrot to eat.

"Shut up asshole."

Sid continued to laugh, only pausing to look at the frozen duplicate of Helga, which was wearing the clothes that he saw Helga wearing older, sitting in Helga's seat, except this duplicate wasn't acting like Helga. The Helga he knew would have long ago joined in on his teasing of Phoebe and her recent sweet-induced dilemma. "Helgs, are you okay? You're spacing out like you did this morning."

Helga was in the middle of nodding a yes, to give Sid some affirmation of her sanity, when Phoebe's head sharply rose up, as if it were attached to a trick string of some sort.

Phoebe looked at Helga with her dark eyes filled with concern, "Are you okay Helga? Is there something wrong?"

Even in the middle of facing a life without her beloved sweets, Phoebe pushed away her own problems and immediately began to care for Helga.

Helga immediately knew that she couldn't tell Phoebe anything.

If Helga dealt with the matter as quickly and quietly as possible, Phoebe would never have to know… yes that's exactly what Helga would do, she would get Tristan out of her life once again, by herself, quickly and quietly and everything would be alright.

She'd be fine.

She could do it.

She had done it before, she could do it again.

Helga nodded her head. "Yea I'm fine, I'm just kinda tired."

At least she would be fine as soon as she dealt with him.

Phoebe shook her head and tsked. "You really should get more sleep Helga."

Helga smiled. "And you shouldn't be eating so much candy, Pheebs. But I guess this whole cavity situation has already fixed this problem, right Pheebs?"

Phoebe's concerned eyes quickly narrowed as the shot death threats at Helga as Sid snickered as he ate a piece of celery—now there was the Helga he knew.

(Y/L)

Nope I still don't own Hey Arnold! I do own YL. But I do own the idea and concepts of YL, oh, and anything you recognize and think is not mine, is probably more often than not, not mine. Yeah, I updated a few days early, I edited this chapter a few times and its been sitting here, I couldn't wait much longer to update. I couldn't wait to fully introduce Tristan V. Nikolais, he's too much fun to write. Thanks to Drucilla Black, So thank you Demile, Crystal949, Gyrlfrend, Hellerick Ferlibay, and JessicaD Tigerlily-Nerf for reviewing YL. When anyone gets a review, its makes it seem like what they are doing is being appreciated. Please check out my original story on called So Much Space (http // www . fictionpress . com / read . php ? storyid 2210969), just take out the spaces. It's under the same name, S.L. Cipher. I just want ya'll to check it out and tell me what you think. If you like YL, you'll like SMS, its starting off at a normal pace, but its going to have its dramatic turn in a few chapters, so please stay tuned for that… so to wrap this up… PLEASE check it out for me, pretty please!

PS:

Crystal949, To be honest there will be something, but as per usual with Helga, it'll be complicated.

Hellerick Ferilaby, Yeah, I just realized that I just used "Football Head" and I figured that as a rule I had to use it once before the story was over. I know Nikolai is a first name, it is the equivalent to Nicholas, but I made a slight mistake, Tristan's last name is supposed to be Nikolais, like Alwin Nikolais, not Nikolai. Now about Helga's troubles, they don't exist in her head. Helga is far from anti-social, she gets along quite well with people, except with The Golden Ones, with the exception of Sid, and their respective girlfriends and female friends. But she has a reason to, they all abuse their power, and Helga has a problem with people who abuse their power like they do. So calling my version of Helga anti-social is a misnomer. And about being submissive to Tristan, you can't say she is submissive until you know the back story. Tristan and Helga have a complex relationship, which will be seen in the next chapters. As I obviously hinted to in previous chapters, junior high school was a very difficult time for both Helga and Phoebe and lots of things happened during that time, things that they, Ian, Tristan, and probably a select few, know about. Helga did not invent her problems, they came into existence, they happened, she ran into them, but she didn't event them. Her sister and mother dying were not her fault and the depression that followed their deaths were not her fault, you may even go so far to say the fact that she burnt down her house wasn't her fault because she was obviously not in a stable state of mind and was pushed by Lexi and Bob. Those things were not invented by Helga. Sure some things that happened in junior high may have been Helga's, and Phoebe's, fault and they obviously had a lasting effect on both Phoebe and Helga.

JessicaD Tigerlily-Nerf, Now that you've really been introduced Tristan, you probably realize how much trouble Helga's in for, right?

Next Chapter It Is Not Enough to Break… PART I

S.L. Cipher– The Queen of Eville (No this not a spelling mistake but a higher echelon of evil, look it up in The New Cipher Dictionary of Cipherous Lexiconography) who will gladly accept all criticisms, advice, reviews, praises, and flames with a large Cheshire Cat Smile. Why the Cheshire Cat Smile? Why, because Cheshire Cat Smiles will always piss people off and Cipher loves pissing people off because it is exceptional fun... Especially when they try and attack you. Which is exactly why when one wields the Cheshire Cat Smile it is important that they must also wield a mace and a sword.

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«·´¨·The Cipher ·´¨·»

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