The Medieval Story of One Direction 2: Finding the Stolen Princess (Completed)

Chapter Fifteen- Sigh...

Helena POV-

It was a sunny day outside, some would call it the perfect day, I used to, but nowadays I rarely left the castle walls. I never found it necessary; to me it just wasn’t the perfect day. The perfect day is when Beka returns home. That will be the day that the family stops stressing, stops fighting. She will see the cracks in the seams and will mend them with all the lovingness she has in her heart.

I heard screaming in the distance, another argument between the boys, and slouched in my chair. I felt like my body was failing me. I was lost for energy; I just couldn’t deal with this anymore. I sat at the dining table by myself and sighed. Nobody came to breakfast anymore, or any main meal for that matter, but I for one, was pushing to try and keep the tradition alive.

When I started working here, every meal the boys and Simon would sit down at the table, enjoying each other's company, laughing at each other's jokes, and just being happy about being together. Simon used encouraged the habit frequently, but now...nothing. He didn't even seem to be bothered by it anymore.

I was always envious about that aspect; having a family too feel a part of. My family abandoned me when I was a baby; I was brought up in a small orphanage. The day I was old enough to work, I went straight for the palace gates, and practically begged King Simon for a job. He welcomed me with welcoming arms, and at the time I never expected for now's events to be real. I subconsciously played with the elegant wedding ring that was a symbol of Simon's and I's endless love.

The sound of two of the brothers fighting echoed through the halls. Sigh. As much as I hated to admit it, the family was falling apart at the seams, and it all started when Beka's disappearance became known. The boys crumbled, and their girls struggled to get them in a better place, but nobody could stop their fighting, their constant playing of the blame game. They all blamed David, each other, but mostly blamed themselves. The boys all felt horribly guilty about what had happened, especially Zayn. It was his idea to make Beka's birthday as fun as possible. Who would have thought that such an entertaining idea could have turned for the worst? 

For months, Simon frantically ordered a massive search of the known world, and nothing was found. As time passed by, with still no trace of the stolen princess, Simon became stressed, and emotionally depressed, causing him to become terribly ill, so ill that Harry took over the thrown a few weeks after he married Marina.

Simon's searches died down; became less and less frequent, he lost hope, we all did, until Zayn found Alexander's journal. Once again, Simon was back to his searching, and I feared that this new excitement was too much for him. He’s become so enveloped with the journal; he hasn't put it down, or let it out of his sight for less than a second. It makes him feel like he's doing something again, it makes him happy.

I sighed again, placing my forehead on the table, my head making a light thud noise as it hit thick wood. I couldn't help but worry about Simon; he was usually all I was thinking about.

Sigh...

I had been sighing a lot lately; it probably had something to do with the fact that I was always overly exhausted. At night, I lie in bed and wait; I'd listen to the struggling, shallow, wheezing breaths of Simon, lying next to me. I knew it'd come eventually, it did every night, but no matter how many times it'd happen, I still felt terrified for Simon's life afterwards. It'd leave me clutching at the wedding ring around fourth finger nervously.

Everything would be neutral, normal. I'd be lying there, being held captivated by my own thoughts, always about my husband, and Simon would suddenly stop breathing, the endless rhythm suddenly coming to an unexpected stop. The wheezing would cut off mid-gasp, and he would wake up gasping, and flailing around, looking for me to help. I'd smack him across the back, reminding his lungs to breathe, giving them a kick start that they were begging for, and the air would fill his lungs, running normally again. His head would crash back down to the pillows exhaustedly, and I'd look down on him worriedly.

Before he drifts back off to sleep, he looks me dead in the eye, and thanks me for saving his life, again. I'd always smile, appreciating his appreciation, but ever since it began happening night after night, the thankfulness became empty, taken for granted. 

For hours after the sudden attack, I'd be sitting up, quietly weeping to myself, thinking about what it'd be like without, my husband, my Simon. I know what Simon and I have isn't normal, our lives aren't exactly stable, but we understand each other, we know how each other works, how each other thinks, and I know that not being over optimistic and happy person that I usually am is killing him, but I can't do that. I can't be that person, I can't be the normal positive Helena that I usually am, because the man I love is dying, and all I can do is stand by and watch as he deteriorates in front of my eyes. It’s not fair!

I know I shouldn't, but I've given up. He and I both know there's no surviving this for him, so we both spend most of his waking hours together, because it's the only time we have left.

But how long is time going to stretch. How long is that limited time? Two months, two weeks, two days, two hours...two minutes?

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Hey Guys,

I know it a short chapter, and I know I haven't updated in a while, I've just been very busy. It was my birthday on the 17th June, so on Monday (I had a really shitty day but anyway) I got my L's AHHHHHHHH! I'm so excited :) I love being able to drive :D Its so much fun

I have already written out three other chapters so I'm hoping I can update them before I go to Church tonight

Love Always,

BekaFisher

xoxo