Chapter Text
A young princess Helga was sitting on the floor of her room, legs crossed and back resting against the legs of her bed, gently stroking the fur of a little rabbit that nestled comfortably in her lap. Her fingers moved with a delicacy that few would expect from someone with her strength, and she hummed softly, a melody she had learned from her grandmother Hunith.
Across the room, Godric watched her with a mischievous smile on his lips. He had plotted something, as he always did, and the expression of pure innocence on his face was the first sign that something terrible was about to happen.
"Hels!" he called, his voice too sweet to be sincere.
Helga pretended not to hear, continuing to hum and pet the rabbit. She knew that tone of voice. Knew every intonation, every pause, every dramatic sigh her twin brother made when he was about to cause some havoc—she had made a point of learning it a long time ago, more specifically after that same tone of voice caused what the family liked to call "The Great Sheep Disaster."
"Helga Pendragon de Bois," Godric repeated, now in an exaggerated dramatic imitation of their human father the king's voice. "Do not ignore your older brother."
Helga slowly raised her eyes, her brown ones meeting Godric's blue ones with a challenging gleam.
"Or what?"
Godric placed his hand over his heart, making an exaggerated pained face.
"Or you will break my fragile little heart."
Helga sighed dramatically, but a playful smile was already forming on her lips. She couldn't resist her brother, no matter how hard she tried—like it or not, they shared the same sense of humor.
"You have three minutes," she said, her voice feigning severity. "Three minutes to say what you want before I go back to ignoring you."
Godric didn't need to hear another word. He leaped over Helga's bed with the agility of a cat—something he certainly hadn't inherited from Merlin—though he stumbled upon landing and fell sitting beside his twin, a wide, mischievous smile already familiar to everyone in Camelot.
"Excellent!" He rubbed his hands together, clearly satisfied with himself. "So..."
"Here we go," Helga murmured, but she couldn't help a smile.
"Have you ever stopped to think," Godric began, his voice low and conspiratorial, "how horrible as children we are?"
Helga frowned, not expecting that. "Huh?"
Godric leaned in closer, as if about to share a deep secret.
"Think about it, Hels. Technically, we already kicked a pregnant man and made him bleed for hours."
Helga's face changed drastically. Her eyes widened, and the little rabbit in her lap almost fell when she sat up, horrified.
"What?!"
Godric nodded, with the utmost seriousness in the world.
"Uh-huh. We kicked Daddy Arthur when we were inside his body. Remember? All those kicks and turns while he was pregnant with us?" He paused dramatically. "And then, we made him bleed when we came out of there. Blood, Helga. A lot of blood." His voice dropped to a guilt-ridden whisper. "We are terrible children."
Helga was pale, her mouth open in shock. The rabbit, noticing the attention had shifted away from him, hopped across the floor and began exploring the rug, oblivious to the human drama around him.
"I... we..." Helga stammered, trying to process the information. "We hurt Daddy..."
"Think about it, little sister. Just think."
Godric kissed his sister's forehead with a solemn gesture, as if saying goodbye to someone leaving on a long journey.
And with that, he got up and left the room, leaving Helga completely stunned.
An hour later, Arthur Pendragon was sitting in his favorite armchair, an open book in his lap. The afternoon light streamed through the window, and he was finally enjoying a moment of peace—something rare in a house with four children, a super-powerful wizard, and one or two occasional dragons.
The silence, of course, didn't last long and was broken by hurried footsteps in the hallway.
"DADDY!" Helga's voice echoed through the castle, and before Arthur could react, the door burst open with a crash and Helga threw herself into his arms, hugging him with a force that knocked the air from his lungs.
"I'm sorry for kicking you!!!" She sobbed, burying her face in Arthur's chest.
Arthur blinked, confused. "You did what?"
"For kicking you! When I was inside your belly! I didn't know it was you, Daddy!" She looked up, her eyes brimming with tears. "I just wanted space!"
Arthur opened his mouth, closed it, and tried to process the situation. He looked at the ceiling as if searching for answers in the wooden beams.
"Helga, dear, you don't need to apologize for that. You were just a baby. You couldn't have known."
"But I kicked you! And I made you bleed when I was born!" Helga sobbed, hugging him even tighter. "I'm a terrible daughter!"
Arthur ran his hand through his daughter's blond hair, trying to comfort her, but before he could respond, he heard a muffled laugh from the doorway.
Godric was there, leaning against the doorframe, a wide, triumphant smile on his face.
Arthur narrowed his eyes. "What did you do this time, Godric de Bois?"
Godric walked into the room with casual steps, his expression a perfect mix of feigned innocence and barely contained pride.
"Relax, Dad. She's just having a late guilt crisis." He shrugged. "Happens to the best of us."
Arthur looked at his sobbing daughter in his arms, then at his son who looked very pleased with himself, and finally at the little rabbit now chewing on the corner of his rug.
"Godric," he said, his voice dangerously calm. "What did you tell her?"
"Nothing much!" Godric raised his hands in defense. "I just pointed out a fact. Technically, we kicked a pregnant man and made you bleed. That's true, Dad. Can't deny it."
Arthur took a deep breath.
"Godric."
"Yes, Dad?"
"Get out of here."
"But, Dad—"
"OUT."
Godric quickly left, but his laughter echoed down the hallway. Arthur sighed, still holding Helga close to him.
"Do you want me to have him clean the stables for a month, my princess?" Arthur asked, his voice soft.
Helga sniffled, wiping her eyes.
"Can it be two months?"
"We'll see, you know how your idiot father can be against punishments."
"Okay."
Arthur held his daughter for a few more minutes, feeling the weight of her body against his.
"Helga, dear?"
"Hmm?"
"I love you. Even if you kicked me when you were inside me."
Helga laughed—a low, sobbing laugh.
Arthur smiled.
"And you don't need to apologize for any of that. It was one of the best things that ever happened to me."
She lifted her head, her eyes still red, but now shining with a smile.
"Really?"
"Really."
The rabbit, having lost interest in the rug, hopped onto Arthur's lap and nestled there as if it belonged.
Arthur looked at the animal, then at his daughter, and felt his heart fill with love.
She was silent for a moment, still nestled against her father.
"Daddy?"
"Hmm?"
"Thank you for carrying me."
Arthur felt his eyes burn.
"Thank you for coming, my daughter."
Outside the room, Godric had already fled to find his other siblings and make them reflect on life as he had done with Helga, but of course, his plan went wrong when, as soon as he entered Rowena's room, he found Merlin sitting on the floor beside his daughter and looking at Godric with a gaze that already foresaw the boy's next move.
"What have you come to stir up now, my little prince?" His dragon father asked with amusement. Godric knew he must already know his plans, and all he could do was smile nervously and try to escape the tickle attack his father had planned for him.