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Berk High had reached the middle of the school year, and every class in the upper years buzzed with preparations for the festivities. June celebrations were a source of eager anticipation, for they were the most memorable event of the entire year.
There was always an endless variety of food at the stalls, lots of games, and the Love Letter Delivery that could be either hated or adored depending of the outcome. It was a tradition. Naturally, teenagers do love to eat. Music filled the afternoon and stretched well into the evening, with paired and group dances where everyone joined hands and circled around a bonfire — which, for the students' safety, was a fake one.
Boys and girls dressed up as country folk, painting their faces with fake exaggerated freckles, dressed in patched trousers and flannel shirts, twirling colorful skirts and straw hats on everyone's heads.
One class in particular had been suffering for quite some time now, struggling to choose their Groom and Bride. Their rival class — who, in their right mind, would willingly call themselves the "Outcasts"? — had won the last interclass games and now claimed they'd put together the finest couple the school had ever seen. Not a chance. Besides, Hairy Hooligans was obviously a far better and superior name.
The whole room was in utter chaos, conversations flying everywhere, loud and chaotic, as the teachers had simply given up trying to contain them. It easy useless when tgey were this hectic. Near the wall, Ruffnut and Hela were chatting. Miraculously, the blonde lass wasn't tangled up in the commotion herself, rather merely talking about it.
"I swear, this is beyond crazy. How have they still not found a bride?" she remarked while filing her nails.
Hela stared blankly at the movement around the room. Nothing really made sense when she was dying of sleepiness.
"They still haven't found one? How's that even possible?"
"Aye, girl, it's absurd. It's not like every girl in class is dating someone. Surely one of them can survive embarrassing herself just this once."
"And who's the groom?"
"Obviously Arne, wee thing. Who else would it be? He's this class's pride and joy."
The auburn-haired girl let out a low hum, sinking deeper into her chair until her head rested on the desk.
"Eh, that's something. I thought someone would've volunteered already."
"Nah. They're too busy arguing over who gets to bring our glory back."
"What glory?"
"The glory of being the best class, Hela! Are you even living on this planet?" And only then did Ruffnut noticed her friend was hanging onto consciousness by a thread.
Hela made a little "ohh" sound, as though all the pieces had magically fallen into place. It still made absolutely no sense, actually.
Arne was, undoubtedly, every girl's dream — including hers — but that didn't matter. He, for all his good looks, should've had a partner by now. Some pretty maiden with dreamy eyes to run after her beloved during the plays.
"Hey, why don't you go over there and put your name down?"
Hela shot upright so fast she felt her blood pressure drop, eyes wide and hair sticking every which way — as if she'd just lost a fight against the floor, or the desk, for that matter.
"Me?! Have you finally lost your mind?!"
Her friend laughed.
"Of course not. You're Stoick's daughter, and even if this class forgets you exist half the time, it's the perfect chance to shut those Outcasts idiots up."
"Ugh, let them talk." Hela knocked her forehead against the desk, it didn't do any good to her blurring vision. "By the end of the year nobody'll remember any of this anyway."
Ruffnut made a sound of utter outrage, completely baffled by her friend's lack of enthusiasm.
"My, what an infectious sense of joy. Truly a beam of sunshine you are!" She pouted rather unconvincingly. "But seriously, just look at the poor lad's face. He's absolutely miserable."
"And whose fault is that?"
"Oh, give over. You two are pals now and keep going places together without telling anyone first. What's the harm in saving him from that nest of snakes?" The blonde leaned in to tickle Hela's neck.
"What the hell!" Hela yelped. "First of all, going out once or twice is perfectly normal. Second, if he's over there, it's because he can handle himself." The Haddock caught Ruffnut's wrists with surprising strength.
"He's probably having the time of his life watching this mess." She had to add, trying and failing to sound convincing.
"You're blind! Arne's not that kind of guy. The heartthrob's clearly got eyes for nobody but you." Ruffnut's tone was delightfully, oh so delightfully irritating. "So full of himself, but turns soft as butter around his girl."
Hela grimaced bitterly, earning yet another amused laugh.
It wasn't as though the so-called heartthrob was even capable of behaving the way Ruffnut insisted he did. Imagining anything remotely similar sounded more like a nightmare than some fever dream.
"You don't even look like you fancy him, Hel'. But I swear, go offer him a considerate helping hand. Maybe he'll like the initiative."
"And what am I supposed to say? I didn't even want to go to the festival, let alone volunteer to play the bride."
The green-eyed lass hated the fact that her best friend's persuasive, oh so wicked words had wormed their way into her head. And hated even more that they always did, somehow.
"He'll probably just say he's got everything under control."
The blonde's grin stretched from ear to ear, devilish and full of dreadful intentions, making Hela shiver.
"That's where you're wrong, darling. The groom's practically ready to give up dancing because nobody concrete has stepped forward yet. Off you go, ye daft woman!"
Hela looked across the vast classroom once more, the endless commotion rolling on while the teacher ignored it all, leaving the teenagers to sort themselves out. It wasn't anything special, nothing really serious or different from the usual. Their class was a loud mess any day of the month no matter the situation.
And there stood Arne, with his arms crossed and wearing a terrible scowl. From afar, he hardly looked like he'd be the star of the evening.
"Ugh... but, like, seriously? He'll quit if nobody shows up?" A tiny spark of hope slipped into her voice in a way she absolutely hated. She didn't want to seem desperate for his attention, as she had plenty of it most of the time.
"Mhm. I'm telling you, just go! Honestly, I reckon he'd rather it be you than anyone else. After all, you're besties now."
The word "besties" sounded absolutely dreadful now, dripping with that ridiculous bit of mischief only Ruffnut could pull off. Horrible, truly horrible.
"You're awful... but I'll go."
The moment she agreed, the blonde let out a victorious shriek — which, thank the heavens, was completely swallowed by the classroom noise — and celebrated like she'd just watched her football team score.
"I've prayed for times like these! I can't wait to see you two getting married!" Ruffnut teased. Her devilish little smile almost made Hela change her mind.
"I'm only doing this to be polite, you witch!"
"Keep telling yourself that, Miss Haddock."
Good grief. That sounded horrific. Like she knew something the auburn-haired lass didn't.
After long and agonising minutes spent gathering every scrap of courage she possessed, Hela rose from her seat and walked over to Arne. He was slumped miserably in his chair, his face a portrait of disgust and regret. So it was true. He was obviously hating the whole idea now, poor soul.
But the instant he saw the little lady approaching, his face lit up within seconds — so noticeably he couldn't even hide it.
"Hela! What do you need?"
His mood had clearly improved in an instant, perhaps more than it should have, though Hela supposed seeing a familiar face was always pleasant.
"Nothing much. Just came to chat. Heard you volunteered to be the groom." She did her utmost to sound indifferent while her heart hammered so stupidly fast she thought she might be sick.
Arne gave an awkward smile. Of course she'd bring that up. Still, it bothered him far less than he'd expected.
"Well... I tried, didn't I? They needed someone, and I fancied going to the festival this year. But not a single bride showed up, and they've been arguing for hours."
The girl smiled too, though hers was shy and crooked.
Talking to him was much easier now, and yet, for some silly reason, she still found herself at a loss for words. "Well, that's a shame. You'd have wiped the floor with the Outcasts."
"It's not even about competing, though they're a bunch of idiots. I just thought it'd be fun." He shrugged with a defeated sigh.
"Is that so? Never knew you were such a dancer." She joked, finally leaning against the wall and hiding her hands behind her back.
They were like traffic lights whenever she got nervous, always signalling.
Now he smiled like a bairn, bright blue eyes shining while his bad mood vanished into whatever corner it'd been locked away in. "I'll have you know, I'm a man of many talents. And you?"
"Me?" She opened her eyes and gaped like a fricking fish. Very Haddock of her.
"Aye. Aren't you joining the festival?"
Good heavens. How Hela dreaded that question. A cursed, treacherous question.
"Oh, not me. I don't have a partner, and Hothead's already going with Fishlegs. Otherwise I'd probably dance with her."
She answered simply, innocently, honest she could be around him. The blonde seemed to think. His silence stretched into morbidly long seconds, with that pensive look he had when ideas crossed his peculiar mind. Hela could swear she saw the gears turning behind his eyes, plotting something.
"If that's the case..." He smirked, "Then you will dance with me."
Hela froze, her open smile turned into pure bewilderment, making her look like a complete fool. The idea had been for her to ask him, offer a helping hand. But Instead? Boldness possessed him first like a cursed spirit.
"But... I don't have a wedding dress."
It was a ridiculous excuse. Finding one wouldn't be hard. Still, pretending it was an impossible quest was easy enough.
"Nonsense, they're not hard to arrange." Then he grinned, full of mirth and this mischievousness even Arne couldn't be saved from feeling. "My problem's solved."
This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. Not at all! He was supposed to politely refuse, like he usually did, and say he'd sort it out himself.
So upon such an groundbreaking outcome, Hela stood frozen against the wall, watching the lad stride into the centre of the chaos to announce he'd found his partner.
What a disaster. Oh, Thor and the entire realm above, she'd have been far better off keeping quiet in her corner!
Within mere seconds—fractions of seconds, really — heads turned towards her like dreadful spectres. Curious looks, jealous glares, Indifferent stares; a whole assortment for her to choose from before feeling uncomfortable about all of them.
The girls who'd been arguing since the topic came up didn't seem pleased in the slightest. In truth, they glared daggers at Hela as if she had murdered their dogs. While she understood the outrage, they have been discussing nonstop and it was probably very tiring, Hela found their icy stares a tad bit unnecessary. But that's just her.
"Then it's settled! Hela and Arne will be this year's bride and groom! Shall we start rehearsals now, or are we still making this difficult?" Called out the poor soul responsible for organising the event, already exhausted by the chaos.
Arne nodded and gave a thumbs-up. Inside that classroom, it may as well have been a royal decree. Mad, the way people obeyed him so easily.
In a moment of weakness, desperately wishing the ground would swallow her whole, Hela looked across the room at her friend as though she might somehow save her.
Ruffnut stood there cheering with her mouth wide open, idiot, her fists raised triumphantly, even bigger idiot.
She truly was a witch, the most devious of them all. And that had to be the worst decision Hela had made all year.