(no subject)
Title: Between Here and Now and Forever
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: The Founders, various OCs
Rating: PG
Summary: Rowena and Godric make poor life decisions, and Helga is put on the spot.
Chapter 1
Master Founders Post
Chapter 20
Rowena had read that the sunsets were late and long-lived in the Northern summer, and though she had found it a bit disconcerting last night, tonight she was glad of it; she and Godric used the long shadows to conceal themselves as they waited for Grimhildr to leave the workshop. Of course, with her bad eyes she had hardly been able to tell that the person who left was Grimhildr, but Godric was certain. "It's just how she carries herself," he explained. "You can't miss it."
"Well, obviously I can, since I just did," said Rowena, "but I know what you mean. Like that spear's been in some uncomfortable places?"
"Rowena!" said Godric, sounding scandalized.
"Oh come on, tell me I'm wrong," she said.
"It's still an awful thing to say," said Godric. "Anyway, she's gone now. We can go in, I think," he said. They set off to steal the secret of thought storage, moving quietly but quickly through the shadows.
The workshop was dark when Rowena pushed the door open. She held the door for Godric, then lit her wand. "What does it look like?" she asked him once he was inside.
"It's supposed to be a bowl," said Godric. "Here it is!" he said, enthusiastically hurrying over to look at whatever he'd spotted, and completely blocking her view.
Rowena peered instead at the cage of frogs next to it. "Godric, you might want to step to the side a bit," she said, reading the containment sigils around the frogs.
"Why?" he asked, blinking. One of the frogs croaked suddenly, and he jumped.
"The frogs. They're carrying some sort of horrible disease," she said, grimacing.
"They look healthy to me," said Godric, frowning.
She squinted at the runes. "They're also all dead," she pointed out. "Undead. Or whatever. At least, they are according to all these wards around them." She did not like the looks of this Sindri fellow, or at least, not his research. If he wasn't doing anything with human corpses, technically he hadn't broken any laws, but reanimating frogs was necromancy enough.
"Rowena, don't be silly. Why would anyone want a bunch of sick dead frogs?" said Godric. "They're probably wards left over from something else."
She raised an eyebrow. "Well, if I'm right, you could put a few of these in the Tiber and step back and in a few weeks you've got a lot less people left alive in Rome."
"Oh. Yeah," said Godric, sounding uncomfortable. He sidled away from the frogs. Now she could see what he had been looking at -- a shallow wooden bowl, carved all around with runes, and filled nearly to the brim with something silvery.
"How are we going to take it with us?" she asked. "Is that stuff important, d'you think?"
"Can't we just work out how it works without stealing it?" Godric asked. "He's got to keep notes around somewhere. Maybe in this trunk -- hold this!" He grabbed the bowl and abruptly shoved it into her hands, then tried to open the trunk. "Locked," he said.
Balancing the bowl in one arm, Rowena cast a spell to make the trunk briefly invisible. The top had a tray of little bottles, but underneath were several scrolls of parchment.
"Aha!" said Godric. "Knew it. Unlock the trunk for me?"
Rowena sighed. "Do I have to do everything?" But she unlocked the trunk with another wave of her wand, then set the bowl down on the ground before she dropped it. Godric slid the scrolls from underneath the tray, shut the trunk, and began to skim, using his wand to light the page. "This light spell's really useful, by the way," he said happily. "Thanks for making me learn it."
Rowena sighed. "What, you mean Lumos? You should have known it. It was the first thing Mistress Lockhart taught me."
"Well, I never learned it," said Godric. "I thought it must be too advanced or something." Rowena found it perplexing that someone as obviously clever as Godric hadn't managed to learn Lumos, but she didn't say anything further -- she didn't want to give him the idea that she respected him or anything.
She waited for what seemed like an eternity, although anytime somebody else was reading something interesting and she had to just sit there and watch them seemed like an eternity to Rowena. "Anything?"
"No," said Godric. "This is mostly stuff about herbology. Or herbologists, really. I bet Helga'd find it interesting -- do you know somebody in Iceland's trained pine trees to dance?"
Rowena sighed heavily. "No, I did not. But we're wasting time -- let's just find something to pour that silvery stuff into and take it and the bowl. We'll work out how it works back home," she said.
"Oh, all right," said Godric, reluctant to be pulled away from the dancing pines. "But Sindri's going to be really angry when he finds it missing."
"I'm certain he'll deal with it in a mature and adult manner," said Rowena.
"Yes, I'm certain someone who's created undead frogs to kill cities will handle his misfortunes with grace and aplomb," said Godric.
"Well. We'll just have to run that risk, won't we?" said Rowena.
They poured the silvery stuff off into a bottle, and took it with them, the frogs croaking feebly all the while. Godric was honestly surprised it had been so easy, but at least now they could relax and enjoy the rest of the visit.
* * *
Helga did not know whose idea it was to go on a jaunt across the countryside that morning, but she was glad to get away from the fortress despite all the trouble of getting in and out of the circle of fire. They'd had a nice walk around the countryside, and then a little picnic, and it had been a very soothing way to occupy the afternoon.
She knew that most people, in appreciating a place they were visiting, tended to look at architecture, food, quaint and/or terrifying local customs, and any unusual features of the land. But Helga couldn't help it; her work made it so that the first thing she saw was the placement of the fortress well below the timber line so that they could easily find building materials, but high enough to tire any army that came on foot. The moat of fire was also a good defense against invaders building siege structures out of wood, although it puzzled Helga that they would have it lit all the time. It seemed so costly, magically, and surely it had to exhaust Grimhildr no matter how powerful she was.
Still, she knew better than to ask how much trouble it was. It would look suspicious from any guest, but she particularly didn't want to draw attention to herself.
She was wondering to herself at dinner that night whether it would be worth the trouble to bring the matter up later and try to propose a solution, perhaps in a thank you letter written expressly to Ari and his father, when Rowena poked her in the arm.
"What?" she demanded, sounding a little ruder than she'd meant to.
"What do you mean what?" Rowena asked. "You've been quiet."
"And?" Helga asked.
"You're usually loud," Rowena pointed out.
"I'm just thinking," said Helga. "Nettles or thorns? I suppose it all depends on the soil," she added, poking at her fish with her knife.
"Nettles or thorns what?" Rowena asked, frowning.
"To guard this fortress. The fire is very impractical," said Helga.
"Oh, yes, I know," said Rowena. "I can't imagine the sort of headaches the people running it get. Do you suppose that's why Bjornson's guards are all so stupid?"
"Are they?" Helga asked. "I hadn't noticed."
"I tried to make conversation with them yesterday, but they just sort of stared at me and looked at my hands. And they weren't guarding anything last night. I suppose Bjornson's local rivals don't attack much, but it seems odd to leave a fortress undefended. I dunno, maybe he's using them to keep the flames running," she said.
"Using them how?" Helga asked. "Doing too much magic doesn't make you stupid, it makes you exhausted. And sometimes dead."
"Maybe the mad Sindri's taken the use of their minds," said Rowena, pulling a gleeful face and making what Helga supposed she thought were spooky gestures with both hands.
"Rowena, you wouldn't know madness if it was sitting next to you at supper," said Helga, rolling her eyes. She ate another bite of her fish. "This is really good," she said.
"Well, Sindri is a necromancer," said Rowena. "We found these undead frogs he made to spread diseases in rivers and lakes and things," she added.
Helga did not want to think about this. She put her knife down, having rather lost her appetite. "Could you possibly find a less appropriate time to talk about the undead?" she asked.
"Sorry," said Rowena, not sounding much upset. "Just thought you'd be interested. He's also really into herbology."
"I bet," said Helga, darkly. She knew this was probably not true, but didn't really want to elaborate.
"What do you mean by that?" Rowena asked, cocking her head.
Helga realized it was an odd thing to say. "Nothing," she said quickly. "It's an interesting subject, is all."
"You would say that," said Rowena.
"Well, it is!" Helga said. She cast about for a change of subject, and her eyes rested on Godric, who was sitting next to her. He seemed to be engaged in an argument with Ari and Hrafn regarding poetic interpretations of the Battle of Maldon. It was as good a distraction as any. "Don't you think maybe somebody should change the subject for Godric and the Stigandrsons?"
"Why?" she asked. "I mean, I don't see why the Stigandrsons would have a problem with it. I'm not going to get all huffy about the Aeneid. Some poetry is tragic and beautiful, and some is blatant nonsensical propaganda, and if anyone's tasteless enough to prefer the latter far be it from me to rub their nose in how very wrong they are."
"Yes, but the Trojan War isn't something that only happened ninety years ago," Helga pointed out. "And we got invaded and they got paid off, so our tragic and beautiful propaganda is obviously a little more tragic and less beautiful."
"But that's Muggle stuff," Rowena insisted. "They couldn't possibly get worked up about it. Anyway, you say 'we' and 'us,' but wasn't your dad --"
"I'm English," said Helga, coldly. Times like these, she wished Mum had named her.
"Right, of course," said Rowena. She frowned at something. "Who's that bloke, and why's he pointing at us?"
Helga looked in the direction Rowena had nodded, and suddenly wished the earth would open up and swallow her. The man talking to Bjornsson had grey hair, and a long, curving scar down one side of his face. He was waving his hands around angrily and pointing in their direction. With a sinking feeling, Helga saw that Grimhildr was backing up whatever story he was telling. She hit Godric in the arm hard enough to get his attention.
"Ow!" he said. "What's..." He fell silent as he caught sight of the scene unfolding before them. "Er. That's..."
"That's bad," said Rowena.
"That's Sindri," said Helga.
"That's our cue," said Godric. "We should leave. Quietly."
"I don't think so," said Hrafn. Helga turned to look at him just in time to see him point his wand at Godric. He did not look as though he was fooling around.
"What's going on? Hrafn, what are you doing?" Ari demanded. "His argument was stupid, but it wasn't that bad."
"You'll see," said Hrafn.
"You do realize there's three of us, right?" Godric asked, looking worriedly down at Hrafn's wand. "I mean, Rowena could disarm you and Helga could, I don't know, bite you. I'm the least dangerous person here."
"Bite him?" Helga asked. She had her wand drawn and pointed at Hrafn now, and she was more than a little insulted.
"I don't know! What do you usually do?" Godric asked.
"Kick people in the ankles," said Helga. "Agh!" Someone -- two someones -- grabbed her roughly and dragged her to her feet, snatching her wand from her fingers before she could react. She saw Bjornson's guards on either side of her. Godric, who was too big to be bodily hauled away, had a net over his head.
"This is no way to treat a guest, Bjornson!" she heard Rowena shout. "Give me back my wand, you stupid oafs!"
Bjornson looked mildly at them. "Why should I treat a thief as a guest?" he asked. "That's no way to treat a host."
"GIVE ME BACK MY WAND OR I'LL KILL YOU!" Rowena shouted, sounding rather panicky. Helga cringed. Rowena was terrible at negotiations when she didn't have her wand.
"We really don't know what you're getting at," Helga said hopefully. "We haven't taken anything but what you've offered us. If there's been some misunderstanding --"
"No misunderstanding," said Bjornson. "You came here to steal. Sindri tells me --"
"No, the girl is partly right," said Sindri, speaking for the first time. "She hasn't taken anything."
"There, you see?" said Godric, sticking a finger through his net hopefully. "Helga was right. Big misunderstanding! We can all go home," he added.
"You, however, will likely not be leaving here alive," said Sindri to Godric. "I think I may just pity you."
"Don't waste your pity on thieves, father," said Grimhildr. "Or their associates." She glared at Helga.
"I really don't think we need to go this far," said Helga. "I mean, er --"
"Release the girl," said Bjornson. "Take the big one and the ugly one away."
"Did you just call me the ugly one?" Rowena snarled. "How dare you!"
Helga fell back onto her seat as the guards let go of her. One of them threw her wand down onto the table, and she snatched it up, ready to fight -- but someone grabbed her wrist. "Leave it," Ari hissed in her ear.
She looked up at him, startled -- he must have made his way over during the argument. She pulled her hand away angrily. "Don't you dare --"
"No," he said firmly. "Wait."
Helga hesitated -- he was Rowena's friend, and Rowena was being arrested -- and then it was too late, and Godric and Rowena were being marched towards the exit of the long hall.
There was a sudden cry from one of the guards, though, and Godric broke through his net, kicked three of his guards down, and scooped Rowena up before they could react adequately. He kicked at the nearest wall, and there was a sudden flurry of dust and straw, ruining their supper. When the dust cleared, there was a more-or-less Godric-sized hole in the wall, and Godric and Rowena were both gone.
"See?" said Ari, brightly. He and Helga were probably the only people who weren't either causing more damage by rushing through the hole in the wall, or trying to repair the damage while idiots were making it worse.
"I don't understand," said Helga. "How did he get out of the net? What did he do?"
"He did what sane men do in fights," said Ari, stooping to pick something metallic up from the floor. "He cheated." As he came back up again, she saw that it was a knife. He examined it for a moment, with apparent satisfaction. "He must have had some help. Terrible traitors are among us, Mistress Hufflepuff." Then he put the knife into a sheath at his belt. "I can't imagine how he got my knife, though."
An animal roar came from the vicinity of the guards. Helga looked back, and saw that the ones who Godric had knocked down were just getting to their feet. They looked very angry, and as she watched, she saw their muscles bunch up, their jaws lengthen, and... and then they...
"God in Heaven," she swore, backing as far away as possible. She would worry about taking names in vain later. Right now she was watching three huge bears in shredded uniforms barrel through a hole in a wall, presumably to attack and eat her two best friends.
"Of course, my father cheats too," said Ari, "so I hope our mutual friends continue to be clever. I think we should leave before the roof caves in, and then you can explain to me why Sindri is making such wild accusations."
"Er. Yes, I suppose that warrants some explanation," said Helga. She had thought Ari had been completely in on it, from his little speech about the knife. Then, if he had been, surely Rowena and he could have got a hold of the bowl without disturbing Sindri so blatantly.
By now, most of the other diners were filing out of the hall in confusion and worry, and though Helga heard snatches of speculation as to what had been stolen and just how mad Sindri was, nobody seemed to be worried about her. She let Ari walk well in front of her, just in case -- she didn't want to get him into trouble -- and soon lost track of him in the crowd. She would find him once she got outside, she decided. And then maybe he could help her hide the evidence of the theft.
She felt a tap on her shoulder. "Mistress Hufflepuff? I wondered if we could talk."
"Of course, Ari, I was just --" She looked up at the man who'd spoken to her; it was Hrafn. "Oh! I'm sorry. You sound like your brother."
"You were just what?" Hrafn asked.
"It's a bit noisy in here," said Helga, brightly. "Can't hardly hear yourself think. I was just going to go outside for any talking."
"And meeting Ari there?" he asked.
"Is there something wrong with that?" Helga asked, narrowing her eyes. "Master Stigandrson, if you are implying that I'm meeting with your brother for -- for unseemly purposes --"
"Believe me, I would be encouraging you if I thought that you were meeting with him for the unseemly purposes you are pretending to be so outraged about," said Hrafn. "But I'm not stupid. You are going to try and get your friends out of trouble, and you will try and drag my idiot brother along with you."
"Don't be ridiculous," said Helga. "If they've stolen something -- which I suppose they might have, they're not very sensible -- I'm sure they'll give it back. But your Sindri isn't exactly a model of stability and sense, is he?"
Hrafn looked troubled, and a bit sad, as she said this. "This is not about Sindri, Mistress Hufflepuff. This is about... about saving my brother, and Rowena. And I would very much appreciate if you stayed out of it, and left my brother alone."
Ari put his arm around Helga, startling her. "Oh, don't worry, Hrafn, I think I can defend myself against one little herbologist," he said.
He smiled obnoxiously at her, and she pushed him away, irritated. Here she was trying to get information out of Hrafn and he was getting all pally with her. He shouldn't have startled her, anyway -- she had thought he was one of the guards, at first. "Defense herbologist," she corrected. "And if you don't mind, I'd like to hear your brother's side of things."
Ari's face fell. "But --"
"Cheaters never prosper," said Helga.
"A fine saying, if profit is your main concern," said Ari, glaring. "But I thought you would be more willing to risk that for your best friend."
"Ari, you idiot," snapped Hrafn. He grabbed his brother by the shoulders. "This is what's best for Rowena. Your absurd sympathy for her nonsense is frankly very disturbing."
"What are you even talking about?" Ari demanded. "Getting her arrested for something she didn't even do is what's best for her? And my sympathy isn't absurd. She is a friend."
"And what kind of person stands by and watches his friend ruin her life?" Hrafn demanded. "The fact that she has allied herself with that scheming, lying, manipulative Slytherin is --"
"All highly unworthy qualities in an ally, to be certain," said Helga. "I have seen him in action, and he's very convincing. Thank goodness you've arranged to intervene." She caught Ari's eye, and a sudden expression of understanding crossed his face. "Very clever of you. I never managed it."
"Thank you," said Hrafn, sounding gratified. "I understand you've always been on the right side of things; Rowena always spoke very highly of your good sense." He glared at Ari. "Pardon my brother; he has never been very rational about matters of politics."
"I have a younger brother," she said. "I know how it is."
"Now, wait," said Ari, although he seemed to have lost some of his urgency. "You are not even --"
"Oh, go clean up or something," said Helga, waving him off. She wanted to hear the rest of Hrafn's master plan before working out how to best help Rowena. Maybe she and Ari could meet up elsewhere, but she couldn't think of anywhere particularly safe to mention in conversation with Hrafn there. "Go do something useful. Maybe you had better start packing up poor Rowena's things."
"Yes," said Ari. "That's a good idea. Then I can prove to everyone that she hasn't stolen anything." He stalked off.
"Don't worry about him doing that," said Hrafn. "Your Transfigurator did steal something from Sindri last night."
Helga feigned surprise. "Well, I would never have expected it of Godric," she said, which was a blatant lie; he'd always been their designated food-stealer when they were little.
"He is a bad influence," said Hrafn.
"I don't think he means to be," said Helga. "Sindri mentioned he probably wouldn't leave alive. Is there any way to, well, save him?" Hrafn raised an eyebrow. "I only ask because, well, Rowena's... very fond of him." Rowena would have killed her for saying so. It was true, in the sense that Rowena needed somebody to despise who wouldn't take it personally. "She'd never forgive herself if she'd got him killed." Also true -- Rowena could really work herself up into a lather of self-loathing when she wanted to.
"Oh," said Hrafn. "Well -- well I didn't know it was like that." He pinked a bit. "Really? They're... together?"
In the sense that they were probably currently in very close proximity, fleeing from bears and wasting time arguing about magical theory. "Yes," said Helga. Hrafn would probably want to soften Rowena up before he made his arguments, and would certainly spring at the chance of generously sparing a friend of hers.
"For a couple, they argue a lot," he pointed out, sounding rather worried.
"I didn't say it was a healthy relationship," said Helga.
"Yes, well, in light of that," said Hrafn, "he is an even worse influence than I had originally realized. I will not be sorry to see him go. There is simply no way I can see of him surviving the Aurae," he added.
Helga resisted the urge to grab Hrafn by the shoulders and shout her next words. "...The Aurae?" This was very bad. The Aurae? The Aurae? She thought she could handle a fortress full of bears and slightly drunken warriors, but probably not the Aurae. The Aurae. How stupid was he?
"Oh yes," said Hrafn. "Several have been stationed nearby, awaiting the springing of my little trap. I am told Lady Aeaeae herself may come with them, which is my hope; surely if anyone can talk her out of this nonsense with the Slytherins, it will be her mother."
"Oh! Oh, er... yes! Certainly," said Helga. "You're very wise."
"And I'm certain she would wholeheartedly disapprove of that -- that peasant Gryffindor becoming... so involved with Rowena. Although," he said, "it is at least reassuring. There were -- there were rumors about you and Rowena."
"Well," said Helga, "there are rumors about anybody who's in the public eye. ...What sort of rumors?" she asked.
"Ah." Hrafn looked embarrassed. "Rumors about... you and Rowena," he repeated.
"Yes, you said that," said Helga, still confused.
"Never mind that," said Hrafn, "they are not relevant. I was only worried that she might be like my brother, in his -- in his shameful behavior. But since she does not have such interests, I am reassured."
"You know, I only really know your brother as a duelist," said Helga. "So I don't really know what you're getting at."
Hrafn sighed. "It pains me to say this, but Ari is -- he is womanly. He is a coward in battle, and he -- once, there was even a cursing pole posted outside his house!"
"I, er, don't know what a cursing pole is," said Helga.
"Well, it is very powerful magic indeed," said Hrafn, "but it only works if the man in question is somehow dishonorable, or unmanly."
"And so it worked, then?" Helga asked.
"Oh yes," said Hrafn. "It is terrible!"
"If you don't mind my asking," said Helga, "what was the curse?"
"That he would bring shame upon our family, and that he would never be a father," said Hrafn. "I only hope he will start taking things more seriously. Perhaps then the curse will break. We must get him married."
"I... wish you all the luck in the world," said Helga, crossing her fingers behind her back. "Is that what you want for Rowena, then?"
"Well, she is never going to find another husband the way she has been carrying on lately," said Hrafn, scandalized.
"No, she definitely isn't," said Helga. She saw a definite ulterior motive here -- one she disliked immensely, whether it came out of hunger for power or merely unrequited love. "Do you want to marry her, then?"
"No!" said Hrafn, so forcefully that Helga was a little bit insulted on behalf of Rowena. "No, no. I mean -- I mean, it would be a very powerful position -- a good marriage. But she is so skinny," he said. "And I suspect she would divorce me if I took concubines. Besides, she has already defiled herself with some -- some giantish commoner."
Helga was already regretting adding that little wrinkle to her story. It wouldn't help Godric at all -- Lady Aeaeae had no reason at all to spare the life of Rowena's class-inappropriate fling, and she already disliked Godric. "Well, that makes your motives in helping her terribly selfless," said Helga. "I'm sorry. I did doubt you for a moment, but you're right. This is what's best for Rowena. And I do hope you straighten your poor brother out. Now, hadn't I better go ensure that he isn't destroying evidence or anything?"
"Oh! Very good idea," said Hrafn. "It hadn't occurred to me that he might. You'd better hurry." She turned to leave, and he stopped her. "I am very grateful that you have seen the sense of my plans," he said. "And I know Rowena will thank you later."
I really hope so, Helga thought as she hurried back to the guest house. She hoped Ari had taken her hint; she'd really need some inside help to deal with this. After all, the Aurae were coming, and she didn't even have a plan yet.
* * *
Rowena watched the angry guards recede into the distance over Godric's shoulder. "Is there a reason you've decided I'm unable to run on my own?" she asked.
"I run faster," he said. "Stop shouting in my ear. Are they catching up?"
"...Actually, they've just turned into bears," she said, squinting. "I think those are bears."
"They what?" Godric asked. "They can't have. Your vision's awful."
"I can't help that!" said Rowena. He sounded tired already. "You're out of practice at running away, aren't you? We haven't been terrorizing you enough, that's what's wrong with you."
"At least I can see," he said. "Also, stop breathing on me."
"Stop breathing on you?" she demanded. "You're the one who's carrying me around like a sack of flour."
"It's distracting! It tickles," he said. "Now, really, tell me if they're catching up," he added, pausing to catch his breath.
"Not really," said Rowena. "Well, they're gaining on us now that we've stopped. But they're still bears."
"They are not," said Godric. "They're..." He turned around briefly. "...They're bears," he said. He began running again.
"That's exactly what I said!" Rowena pointed out.
"Yes. Thanks. Shut up," said Godric. He put her down abruptly in front of one of the workshops. "You're heavier than you look. Let's see if we can distract them," he said, and opened the door of the hut, ducking in.
"They're going to get here soon," said Rowena.
"That's exactly what I want," said Godric, opening the door opposite from the one he'd come in by. "Let's see how many we can take out."
"Godric! You aren't planning on fighting them, are you?" Rowena asked. "You're useless at dueling."
"Yes, but I'm not useless at blowing things up," said Godric, reasonably. "...Mind, it's usually an accident."
"You'll kill them," Rowena pointed out.
Godric was a little surprised at her shocked tone. She'd always discussed incidental common deaths due to aristocratic wrangling in such a matter-of-fact tone that he hadn't realized she might object. "I know," he said, "but you heard what Sindri said. I'm not getting out of this alive if I don't get out of here soon."
"Oh," said Rowena, with a tone of unhappy understanding. "I. Yes. All right." Then she stood bolt upright. "Oh gods, I don't have my wand." She sounded quite terrified, and he supposed it was different for her, since she was good at magic and rather more physically fragile than he was.
"Oh, you can use mine if you need one," he said. "I'm a bit useless with it, so --" He held it out to her, and she grabbed it from his hand.
"Thanks," she said. She looked reassured, but she sounded rather irritated, and he couldn't see why.
He decided to let it pass. "Any time," he said. "After all, you paid for that one. I suppose it's really yours."
At this she burst into tears. "Damn it," she said, trying to wipe them away with her hands.
"...Er. Rowena. I'm really sorry if I -- er." She didn't look angry, just upset. "Are you all right?" he asked.
"No," she said, miserably. "Don't worry about it."
"All right," he said hesitantly. "But I'm going to need to borrow that wand again to blow the bears up."
"We need to get my wand back from them," she insisted.
"Can't you just get a new one once we get home?" he asked.
"We need to get my wand back," she repeated. "Do your magic wandlessly, if you can."
Her tone suggested that she would not hesitate to hurt him if he argued, and he was hesitant to do anything to make her cry again. "All right," he said. "But I might need it back temporarily. You know, for difficult things."
"Right," she said. She looked very unhappy at this, as though she were steeling herself for some great effort.
"All right," said Godric, taking a deep breath. "Can you, I don't know, disarm them, and then --"
"They're BEARS," Rowena pointed out.
"Yes, yes, I know, but just to get your wand and then we can set this workshop on fire," said Godric. He paused. "Why would they even still be carrying your wand?"
"Look, would you shut up?" Rowena snapped. "I need something to defend myself with."
"Not for running away!" said Godric. "That's pretty much the point of running away." He looked out the doorway, and saw that the bears were lumbering ever closer. "I'm sorry, Rowena, but I really can't see a way for us to fend off all the bears and get your wand back."
"Turn them into rabbits," suggested Rowena. Hesitantly, she offered the wand, and he took it, trying to will the bears into something smaller.
It wasn't working. "There's a lot of transfiguration on them already," said Godric. "I can't even tell if they were originally people or bears or something else." He lobbed the wand back at her and shut the door to the workshop, quickly moving all the heavy-looking furniture in front of it. The undead frogs began croaking wildly. "If you want to try your luck hexing them, be my guest, but I'd rather --"
"Fine. Yes. I'll do that." She walked out through the far door. Godric couldn't tell if she had a plan or was just mad. He hoped it was the former.
Should he shut the second door, the one that faced the moat? Rowena would have no way of getting back in if her insane plan or lack of it failed her. On the other hand, Godric knew he wasn't safe from the bears if he just left it open. Should he just sit in here and wait and hope for the best? He looked around for anything he could use to get them out of this situation, but his panic wasn't helping and these experiments were far beyond him. He didn't know anything about anything, not really. Just transfiguration, and transfiguration wasn't helping him here.
Roars from the still-open door told him that he was too late. He looked to see Rowena enter, pursued by angry bears. She looked quite pleased with herself even so. "I got it!" she said, waving her wand around.
Wasting no time, Godric swept her out of the way, pushed the front bear out by the face, slammed the door, and stood in front of it, holding it closed. He wished it had a good old-fashioned Muggle crossbar, but it didn't. "How did you get it back?" Godric asked.
"Fireballs!" said Rowena, brightly. "They're terrified of fire. I can make illusions of fire really well, so --"
"Basil mentioned that," said Godric. "Since you keep sending them at me."
"Ugh," said Rowena, disgustedly. "Basil's no fun, is he?"
Godric did not dignify this with a response, as it couldn't lead anywhere good. "What do we do now?" he asked.
"Fuck if I know," said Rowena. "Didn't you want to blow them up?"
"Well, you were the one who didn't want to kill them," said Godric. The door moved alarmingly, and he slid to the floor, leaning against it, before the bears could open it.
"You were all for self-preservation," Rowena pointed out, handing him his wand. "So, go ahead. Preserve yourself."
"I don't know what I'm doing," he admitted, casting a nervous glance towards the door. "They're going to get through the doors and rip us to shreds."
"We could fight them," said Rowena.
"You could fight them," said Godric. "I could stand around uselessly while they bite my ankles off."
"Why are they even angry at us, if they're bears?" Rowena asked. "Bears don't care if we stole anything. Bears just care if they're hungry or you're threatening them."
"Well, do you want to ask them?" he asked.
"No," she said, decisively. She looked around the workroom. "You can't do anything with this stuff?"
"I don't know what it is, half of it," he said. "You're the clever one, you work something out!"
"I'm the educated one," she said, ill-temperedly. "There's a difference."
"Not much of one," he said, with equal irritation.
"I bet you wish you'd just left me and run," said Rowena, sounding rather dejected.
"Not really," he said. "I'd probably be in the same situation or worse, only there'd be nobody for me to argue with."
She actually laughed at this. It was true, sort of -- it was comforting to do something so normal in the midst of this absolutely mad situation. "Well, we'd better get out of here before anybody more intelligent than the bears comes after us," she said.
"How?" he asked.
"Like you said, blow the place up, distracting the bears. They're all over there," she said, pointing to the door Godric was holding shut, "so if we unblock the other door, run out, and you do whatever you were planning to do once the bears are inside the workshop, it might work. The only trouble is where we're escaping to."
"What about the moat?" Godric asked.
"...The moat," said Rowena, disbelievingly. "The moat's made of fire, Godric."
"Yes!" said Godric. "But, look, both you and Helga were astonished that one person could keep the flame spells going on that, right? Wouldn't a giant illusion be a lot more practical than a giant ring of fire?"
"Oh," said Rowena. "Oh, you're right. That'd be much easier. I mean," she added, "if you're wrong, we'll die, but --"
"We'll die anyway," he said. "Won't it be better to go out in a blaze of, er..."
"Stupid cowardice?" Rowena asked. "I see your point. I don't want to go out in a blaze of being ripped up and eaten by bears."
"I don't think that technically qualifies as a blaze," said Godric.
Rowena shrugged. "So. Shall we blow up some bears?"
"Unless you've got a better idea," said Godric hopefully.
"Nope," said Rowena. She waved her wand at the door Godric was in front of. "You can get up now, it's locked. I really hope this works."
* * *
Historical note: The Battle of Maldon, which took place between the Anglo-Saxons and invading Vikings in 991, is discussed in the aptly-titled poem, "The Battle of Maldon." The poem has not one but TWO Godrics in it. Sadly, neither of them is much of a role model.
Chapter 22
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: The Founders, various OCs
Rating: PG
Summary: Rowena and Godric make poor life decisions, and Helga is put on the spot.
Chapter 1
Master Founders Post
Chapter 20
Rowena had read that the sunsets were late and long-lived in the Northern summer, and though she had found it a bit disconcerting last night, tonight she was glad of it; she and Godric used the long shadows to conceal themselves as they waited for Grimhildr to leave the workshop. Of course, with her bad eyes she had hardly been able to tell that the person who left was Grimhildr, but Godric was certain. "It's just how she carries herself," he explained. "You can't miss it."
"Well, obviously I can, since I just did," said Rowena, "but I know what you mean. Like that spear's been in some uncomfortable places?"
"Rowena!" said Godric, sounding scandalized.
"Oh come on, tell me I'm wrong," she said.
"It's still an awful thing to say," said Godric. "Anyway, she's gone now. We can go in, I think," he said. They set off to steal the secret of thought storage, moving quietly but quickly through the shadows.
The workshop was dark when Rowena pushed the door open. She held the door for Godric, then lit her wand. "What does it look like?" she asked him once he was inside.
"It's supposed to be a bowl," said Godric. "Here it is!" he said, enthusiastically hurrying over to look at whatever he'd spotted, and completely blocking her view.
Rowena peered instead at the cage of frogs next to it. "Godric, you might want to step to the side a bit," she said, reading the containment sigils around the frogs.
"Why?" he asked, blinking. One of the frogs croaked suddenly, and he jumped.
"The frogs. They're carrying some sort of horrible disease," she said, grimacing.
"They look healthy to me," said Godric, frowning.
She squinted at the runes. "They're also all dead," she pointed out. "Undead. Or whatever. At least, they are according to all these wards around them." She did not like the looks of this Sindri fellow, or at least, not his research. If he wasn't doing anything with human corpses, technically he hadn't broken any laws, but reanimating frogs was necromancy enough.
"Rowena, don't be silly. Why would anyone want a bunch of sick dead frogs?" said Godric. "They're probably wards left over from something else."
She raised an eyebrow. "Well, if I'm right, you could put a few of these in the Tiber and step back and in a few weeks you've got a lot less people left alive in Rome."
"Oh. Yeah," said Godric, sounding uncomfortable. He sidled away from the frogs. Now she could see what he had been looking at -- a shallow wooden bowl, carved all around with runes, and filled nearly to the brim with something silvery.
"How are we going to take it with us?" she asked. "Is that stuff important, d'you think?"
"Can't we just work out how it works without stealing it?" Godric asked. "He's got to keep notes around somewhere. Maybe in this trunk -- hold this!" He grabbed the bowl and abruptly shoved it into her hands, then tried to open the trunk. "Locked," he said.
Balancing the bowl in one arm, Rowena cast a spell to make the trunk briefly invisible. The top had a tray of little bottles, but underneath were several scrolls of parchment.
"Aha!" said Godric. "Knew it. Unlock the trunk for me?"
Rowena sighed. "Do I have to do everything?" But she unlocked the trunk with another wave of her wand, then set the bowl down on the ground before she dropped it. Godric slid the scrolls from underneath the tray, shut the trunk, and began to skim, using his wand to light the page. "This light spell's really useful, by the way," he said happily. "Thanks for making me learn it."
Rowena sighed. "What, you mean Lumos? You should have known it. It was the first thing Mistress Lockhart taught me."
"Well, I never learned it," said Godric. "I thought it must be too advanced or something." Rowena found it perplexing that someone as obviously clever as Godric hadn't managed to learn Lumos, but she didn't say anything further -- she didn't want to give him the idea that she respected him or anything.
She waited for what seemed like an eternity, although anytime somebody else was reading something interesting and she had to just sit there and watch them seemed like an eternity to Rowena. "Anything?"
"No," said Godric. "This is mostly stuff about herbology. Or herbologists, really. I bet Helga'd find it interesting -- do you know somebody in Iceland's trained pine trees to dance?"
Rowena sighed heavily. "No, I did not. But we're wasting time -- let's just find something to pour that silvery stuff into and take it and the bowl. We'll work out how it works back home," she said.
"Oh, all right," said Godric, reluctant to be pulled away from the dancing pines. "But Sindri's going to be really angry when he finds it missing."
"I'm certain he'll deal with it in a mature and adult manner," said Rowena.
"Yes, I'm certain someone who's created undead frogs to kill cities will handle his misfortunes with grace and aplomb," said Godric.
"Well. We'll just have to run that risk, won't we?" said Rowena.
They poured the silvery stuff off into a bottle, and took it with them, the frogs croaking feebly all the while. Godric was honestly surprised it had been so easy, but at least now they could relax and enjoy the rest of the visit.
* * *
Helga did not know whose idea it was to go on a jaunt across the countryside that morning, but she was glad to get away from the fortress despite all the trouble of getting in and out of the circle of fire. They'd had a nice walk around the countryside, and then a little picnic, and it had been a very soothing way to occupy the afternoon.
She knew that most people, in appreciating a place they were visiting, tended to look at architecture, food, quaint and/or terrifying local customs, and any unusual features of the land. But Helga couldn't help it; her work made it so that the first thing she saw was the placement of the fortress well below the timber line so that they could easily find building materials, but high enough to tire any army that came on foot. The moat of fire was also a good defense against invaders building siege structures out of wood, although it puzzled Helga that they would have it lit all the time. It seemed so costly, magically, and surely it had to exhaust Grimhildr no matter how powerful she was.
Still, she knew better than to ask how much trouble it was. It would look suspicious from any guest, but she particularly didn't want to draw attention to herself.
She was wondering to herself at dinner that night whether it would be worth the trouble to bring the matter up later and try to propose a solution, perhaps in a thank you letter written expressly to Ari and his father, when Rowena poked her in the arm.
"What?" she demanded, sounding a little ruder than she'd meant to.
"What do you mean what?" Rowena asked. "You've been quiet."
"And?" Helga asked.
"You're usually loud," Rowena pointed out.
"I'm just thinking," said Helga. "Nettles or thorns? I suppose it all depends on the soil," she added, poking at her fish with her knife.
"Nettles or thorns what?" Rowena asked, frowning.
"To guard this fortress. The fire is very impractical," said Helga.
"Oh, yes, I know," said Rowena. "I can't imagine the sort of headaches the people running it get. Do you suppose that's why Bjornson's guards are all so stupid?"
"Are they?" Helga asked. "I hadn't noticed."
"I tried to make conversation with them yesterday, but they just sort of stared at me and looked at my hands. And they weren't guarding anything last night. I suppose Bjornson's local rivals don't attack much, but it seems odd to leave a fortress undefended. I dunno, maybe he's using them to keep the flames running," she said.
"Using them how?" Helga asked. "Doing too much magic doesn't make you stupid, it makes you exhausted. And sometimes dead."
"Maybe the mad Sindri's taken the use of their minds," said Rowena, pulling a gleeful face and making what Helga supposed she thought were spooky gestures with both hands.
"Rowena, you wouldn't know madness if it was sitting next to you at supper," said Helga, rolling her eyes. She ate another bite of her fish. "This is really good," she said.
"Well, Sindri is a necromancer," said Rowena. "We found these undead frogs he made to spread diseases in rivers and lakes and things," she added.
Helga did not want to think about this. She put her knife down, having rather lost her appetite. "Could you possibly find a less appropriate time to talk about the undead?" she asked.
"Sorry," said Rowena, not sounding much upset. "Just thought you'd be interested. He's also really into herbology."
"I bet," said Helga, darkly. She knew this was probably not true, but didn't really want to elaborate.
"What do you mean by that?" Rowena asked, cocking her head.
Helga realized it was an odd thing to say. "Nothing," she said quickly. "It's an interesting subject, is all."
"You would say that," said Rowena.
"Well, it is!" Helga said. She cast about for a change of subject, and her eyes rested on Godric, who was sitting next to her. He seemed to be engaged in an argument with Ari and Hrafn regarding poetic interpretations of the Battle of Maldon. It was as good a distraction as any. "Don't you think maybe somebody should change the subject for Godric and the Stigandrsons?"
"Why?" she asked. "I mean, I don't see why the Stigandrsons would have a problem with it. I'm not going to get all huffy about the Aeneid. Some poetry is tragic and beautiful, and some is blatant nonsensical propaganda, and if anyone's tasteless enough to prefer the latter far be it from me to rub their nose in how very wrong they are."
"Yes, but the Trojan War isn't something that only happened ninety years ago," Helga pointed out. "And we got invaded and they got paid off, so our tragic and beautiful propaganda is obviously a little more tragic and less beautiful."
"But that's Muggle stuff," Rowena insisted. "They couldn't possibly get worked up about it. Anyway, you say 'we' and 'us,' but wasn't your dad --"
"I'm English," said Helga, coldly. Times like these, she wished Mum had named her.
"Right, of course," said Rowena. She frowned at something. "Who's that bloke, and why's he pointing at us?"
Helga looked in the direction Rowena had nodded, and suddenly wished the earth would open up and swallow her. The man talking to Bjornsson had grey hair, and a long, curving scar down one side of his face. He was waving his hands around angrily and pointing in their direction. With a sinking feeling, Helga saw that Grimhildr was backing up whatever story he was telling. She hit Godric in the arm hard enough to get his attention.
"Ow!" he said. "What's..." He fell silent as he caught sight of the scene unfolding before them. "Er. That's..."
"That's bad," said Rowena.
"That's Sindri," said Helga.
"That's our cue," said Godric. "We should leave. Quietly."
"I don't think so," said Hrafn. Helga turned to look at him just in time to see him point his wand at Godric. He did not look as though he was fooling around.
"What's going on? Hrafn, what are you doing?" Ari demanded. "His argument was stupid, but it wasn't that bad."
"You'll see," said Hrafn.
"You do realize there's three of us, right?" Godric asked, looking worriedly down at Hrafn's wand. "I mean, Rowena could disarm you and Helga could, I don't know, bite you. I'm the least dangerous person here."
"Bite him?" Helga asked. She had her wand drawn and pointed at Hrafn now, and she was more than a little insulted.
"I don't know! What do you usually do?" Godric asked.
"Kick people in the ankles," said Helga. "Agh!" Someone -- two someones -- grabbed her roughly and dragged her to her feet, snatching her wand from her fingers before she could react. She saw Bjornson's guards on either side of her. Godric, who was too big to be bodily hauled away, had a net over his head.
"This is no way to treat a guest, Bjornson!" she heard Rowena shout. "Give me back my wand, you stupid oafs!"
Bjornson looked mildly at them. "Why should I treat a thief as a guest?" he asked. "That's no way to treat a host."
"GIVE ME BACK MY WAND OR I'LL KILL YOU!" Rowena shouted, sounding rather panicky. Helga cringed. Rowena was terrible at negotiations when she didn't have her wand.
"We really don't know what you're getting at," Helga said hopefully. "We haven't taken anything but what you've offered us. If there's been some misunderstanding --"
"No misunderstanding," said Bjornson. "You came here to steal. Sindri tells me --"
"No, the girl is partly right," said Sindri, speaking for the first time. "She hasn't taken anything."
"There, you see?" said Godric, sticking a finger through his net hopefully. "Helga was right. Big misunderstanding! We can all go home," he added.
"You, however, will likely not be leaving here alive," said Sindri to Godric. "I think I may just pity you."
"Don't waste your pity on thieves, father," said Grimhildr. "Or their associates." She glared at Helga.
"I really don't think we need to go this far," said Helga. "I mean, er --"
"Release the girl," said Bjornson. "Take the big one and the ugly one away."
"Did you just call me the ugly one?" Rowena snarled. "How dare you!"
Helga fell back onto her seat as the guards let go of her. One of them threw her wand down onto the table, and she snatched it up, ready to fight -- but someone grabbed her wrist. "Leave it," Ari hissed in her ear.
She looked up at him, startled -- he must have made his way over during the argument. She pulled her hand away angrily. "Don't you dare --"
"No," he said firmly. "Wait."
Helga hesitated -- he was Rowena's friend, and Rowena was being arrested -- and then it was too late, and Godric and Rowena were being marched towards the exit of the long hall.
There was a sudden cry from one of the guards, though, and Godric broke through his net, kicked three of his guards down, and scooped Rowena up before they could react adequately. He kicked at the nearest wall, and there was a sudden flurry of dust and straw, ruining their supper. When the dust cleared, there was a more-or-less Godric-sized hole in the wall, and Godric and Rowena were both gone.
"See?" said Ari, brightly. He and Helga were probably the only people who weren't either causing more damage by rushing through the hole in the wall, or trying to repair the damage while idiots were making it worse.
"I don't understand," said Helga. "How did he get out of the net? What did he do?"
"He did what sane men do in fights," said Ari, stooping to pick something metallic up from the floor. "He cheated." As he came back up again, she saw that it was a knife. He examined it for a moment, with apparent satisfaction. "He must have had some help. Terrible traitors are among us, Mistress Hufflepuff." Then he put the knife into a sheath at his belt. "I can't imagine how he got my knife, though."
An animal roar came from the vicinity of the guards. Helga looked back, and saw that the ones who Godric had knocked down were just getting to their feet. They looked very angry, and as she watched, she saw their muscles bunch up, their jaws lengthen, and... and then they...
"God in Heaven," she swore, backing as far away as possible. She would worry about taking names in vain later. Right now she was watching three huge bears in shredded uniforms barrel through a hole in a wall, presumably to attack and eat her two best friends.
"Of course, my father cheats too," said Ari, "so I hope our mutual friends continue to be clever. I think we should leave before the roof caves in, and then you can explain to me why Sindri is making such wild accusations."
"Er. Yes, I suppose that warrants some explanation," said Helga. She had thought Ari had been completely in on it, from his little speech about the knife. Then, if he had been, surely Rowena and he could have got a hold of the bowl without disturbing Sindri so blatantly.
By now, most of the other diners were filing out of the hall in confusion and worry, and though Helga heard snatches of speculation as to what had been stolen and just how mad Sindri was, nobody seemed to be worried about her. She let Ari walk well in front of her, just in case -- she didn't want to get him into trouble -- and soon lost track of him in the crowd. She would find him once she got outside, she decided. And then maybe he could help her hide the evidence of the theft.
She felt a tap on her shoulder. "Mistress Hufflepuff? I wondered if we could talk."
"Of course, Ari, I was just --" She looked up at the man who'd spoken to her; it was Hrafn. "Oh! I'm sorry. You sound like your brother."
"You were just what?" Hrafn asked.
"It's a bit noisy in here," said Helga, brightly. "Can't hardly hear yourself think. I was just going to go outside for any talking."
"And meeting Ari there?" he asked.
"Is there something wrong with that?" Helga asked, narrowing her eyes. "Master Stigandrson, if you are implying that I'm meeting with your brother for -- for unseemly purposes --"
"Believe me, I would be encouraging you if I thought that you were meeting with him for the unseemly purposes you are pretending to be so outraged about," said Hrafn. "But I'm not stupid. You are going to try and get your friends out of trouble, and you will try and drag my idiot brother along with you."
"Don't be ridiculous," said Helga. "If they've stolen something -- which I suppose they might have, they're not very sensible -- I'm sure they'll give it back. But your Sindri isn't exactly a model of stability and sense, is he?"
Hrafn looked troubled, and a bit sad, as she said this. "This is not about Sindri, Mistress Hufflepuff. This is about... about saving my brother, and Rowena. And I would very much appreciate if you stayed out of it, and left my brother alone."
Ari put his arm around Helga, startling her. "Oh, don't worry, Hrafn, I think I can defend myself against one little herbologist," he said.
He smiled obnoxiously at her, and she pushed him away, irritated. Here she was trying to get information out of Hrafn and he was getting all pally with her. He shouldn't have startled her, anyway -- she had thought he was one of the guards, at first. "Defense herbologist," she corrected. "And if you don't mind, I'd like to hear your brother's side of things."
Ari's face fell. "But --"
"Cheaters never prosper," said Helga.
"A fine saying, if profit is your main concern," said Ari, glaring. "But I thought you would be more willing to risk that for your best friend."
"Ari, you idiot," snapped Hrafn. He grabbed his brother by the shoulders. "This is what's best for Rowena. Your absurd sympathy for her nonsense is frankly very disturbing."
"What are you even talking about?" Ari demanded. "Getting her arrested for something she didn't even do is what's best for her? And my sympathy isn't absurd. She is a friend."
"And what kind of person stands by and watches his friend ruin her life?" Hrafn demanded. "The fact that she has allied herself with that scheming, lying, manipulative Slytherin is --"
"All highly unworthy qualities in an ally, to be certain," said Helga. "I have seen him in action, and he's very convincing. Thank goodness you've arranged to intervene." She caught Ari's eye, and a sudden expression of understanding crossed his face. "Very clever of you. I never managed it."
"Thank you," said Hrafn, sounding gratified. "I understand you've always been on the right side of things; Rowena always spoke very highly of your good sense." He glared at Ari. "Pardon my brother; he has never been very rational about matters of politics."
"I have a younger brother," she said. "I know how it is."
"Now, wait," said Ari, although he seemed to have lost some of his urgency. "You are not even --"
"Oh, go clean up or something," said Helga, waving him off. She wanted to hear the rest of Hrafn's master plan before working out how to best help Rowena. Maybe she and Ari could meet up elsewhere, but she couldn't think of anywhere particularly safe to mention in conversation with Hrafn there. "Go do something useful. Maybe you had better start packing up poor Rowena's things."
"Yes," said Ari. "That's a good idea. Then I can prove to everyone that she hasn't stolen anything." He stalked off.
"Don't worry about him doing that," said Hrafn. "Your Transfigurator did steal something from Sindri last night."
Helga feigned surprise. "Well, I would never have expected it of Godric," she said, which was a blatant lie; he'd always been their designated food-stealer when they were little.
"He is a bad influence," said Hrafn.
"I don't think he means to be," said Helga. "Sindri mentioned he probably wouldn't leave alive. Is there any way to, well, save him?" Hrafn raised an eyebrow. "I only ask because, well, Rowena's... very fond of him." Rowena would have killed her for saying so. It was true, in the sense that Rowena needed somebody to despise who wouldn't take it personally. "She'd never forgive herself if she'd got him killed." Also true -- Rowena could really work herself up into a lather of self-loathing when she wanted to.
"Oh," said Hrafn. "Well -- well I didn't know it was like that." He pinked a bit. "Really? They're... together?"
In the sense that they were probably currently in very close proximity, fleeing from bears and wasting time arguing about magical theory. "Yes," said Helga. Hrafn would probably want to soften Rowena up before he made his arguments, and would certainly spring at the chance of generously sparing a friend of hers.
"For a couple, they argue a lot," he pointed out, sounding rather worried.
"I didn't say it was a healthy relationship," said Helga.
"Yes, well, in light of that," said Hrafn, "he is an even worse influence than I had originally realized. I will not be sorry to see him go. There is simply no way I can see of him surviving the Aurae," he added.
Helga resisted the urge to grab Hrafn by the shoulders and shout her next words. "...The Aurae?" This was very bad. The Aurae? The Aurae? She thought she could handle a fortress full of bears and slightly drunken warriors, but probably not the Aurae. The Aurae. How stupid was he?
"Oh yes," said Hrafn. "Several have been stationed nearby, awaiting the springing of my little trap. I am told Lady Aeaeae herself may come with them, which is my hope; surely if anyone can talk her out of this nonsense with the Slytherins, it will be her mother."
"Oh! Oh, er... yes! Certainly," said Helga. "You're very wise."
"And I'm certain she would wholeheartedly disapprove of that -- that peasant Gryffindor becoming... so involved with Rowena. Although," he said, "it is at least reassuring. There were -- there were rumors about you and Rowena."
"Well," said Helga, "there are rumors about anybody who's in the public eye. ...What sort of rumors?" she asked.
"Ah." Hrafn looked embarrassed. "Rumors about... you and Rowena," he repeated.
"Yes, you said that," said Helga, still confused.
"Never mind that," said Hrafn, "they are not relevant. I was only worried that she might be like my brother, in his -- in his shameful behavior. But since she does not have such interests, I am reassured."
"You know, I only really know your brother as a duelist," said Helga. "So I don't really know what you're getting at."
Hrafn sighed. "It pains me to say this, but Ari is -- he is womanly. He is a coward in battle, and he -- once, there was even a cursing pole posted outside his house!"
"I, er, don't know what a cursing pole is," said Helga.
"Well, it is very powerful magic indeed," said Hrafn, "but it only works if the man in question is somehow dishonorable, or unmanly."
"And so it worked, then?" Helga asked.
"Oh yes," said Hrafn. "It is terrible!"
"If you don't mind my asking," said Helga, "what was the curse?"
"That he would bring shame upon our family, and that he would never be a father," said Hrafn. "I only hope he will start taking things more seriously. Perhaps then the curse will break. We must get him married."
"I... wish you all the luck in the world," said Helga, crossing her fingers behind her back. "Is that what you want for Rowena, then?"
"Well, she is never going to find another husband the way she has been carrying on lately," said Hrafn, scandalized.
"No, she definitely isn't," said Helga. She saw a definite ulterior motive here -- one she disliked immensely, whether it came out of hunger for power or merely unrequited love. "Do you want to marry her, then?"
"No!" said Hrafn, so forcefully that Helga was a little bit insulted on behalf of Rowena. "No, no. I mean -- I mean, it would be a very powerful position -- a good marriage. But she is so skinny," he said. "And I suspect she would divorce me if I took concubines. Besides, she has already defiled herself with some -- some giantish commoner."
Helga was already regretting adding that little wrinkle to her story. It wouldn't help Godric at all -- Lady Aeaeae had no reason at all to spare the life of Rowena's class-inappropriate fling, and she already disliked Godric. "Well, that makes your motives in helping her terribly selfless," said Helga. "I'm sorry. I did doubt you for a moment, but you're right. This is what's best for Rowena. And I do hope you straighten your poor brother out. Now, hadn't I better go ensure that he isn't destroying evidence or anything?"
"Oh! Very good idea," said Hrafn. "It hadn't occurred to me that he might. You'd better hurry." She turned to leave, and he stopped her. "I am very grateful that you have seen the sense of my plans," he said. "And I know Rowena will thank you later."
I really hope so, Helga thought as she hurried back to the guest house. She hoped Ari had taken her hint; she'd really need some inside help to deal with this. After all, the Aurae were coming, and she didn't even have a plan yet.
* * *
Rowena watched the angry guards recede into the distance over Godric's shoulder. "Is there a reason you've decided I'm unable to run on my own?" she asked.
"I run faster," he said. "Stop shouting in my ear. Are they catching up?"
"...Actually, they've just turned into bears," she said, squinting. "I think those are bears."
"They what?" Godric asked. "They can't have. Your vision's awful."
"I can't help that!" said Rowena. He sounded tired already. "You're out of practice at running away, aren't you? We haven't been terrorizing you enough, that's what's wrong with you."
"At least I can see," he said. "Also, stop breathing on me."
"Stop breathing on you?" she demanded. "You're the one who's carrying me around like a sack of flour."
"It's distracting! It tickles," he said. "Now, really, tell me if they're catching up," he added, pausing to catch his breath.
"Not really," said Rowena. "Well, they're gaining on us now that we've stopped. But they're still bears."
"They are not," said Godric. "They're..." He turned around briefly. "...They're bears," he said. He began running again.
"That's exactly what I said!" Rowena pointed out.
"Yes. Thanks. Shut up," said Godric. He put her down abruptly in front of one of the workshops. "You're heavier than you look. Let's see if we can distract them," he said, and opened the door of the hut, ducking in.
"They're going to get here soon," said Rowena.
"That's exactly what I want," said Godric, opening the door opposite from the one he'd come in by. "Let's see how many we can take out."
"Godric! You aren't planning on fighting them, are you?" Rowena asked. "You're useless at dueling."
"Yes, but I'm not useless at blowing things up," said Godric, reasonably. "...Mind, it's usually an accident."
"You'll kill them," Rowena pointed out.
Godric was a little surprised at her shocked tone. She'd always discussed incidental common deaths due to aristocratic wrangling in such a matter-of-fact tone that he hadn't realized she might object. "I know," he said, "but you heard what Sindri said. I'm not getting out of this alive if I don't get out of here soon."
"Oh," said Rowena, with a tone of unhappy understanding. "I. Yes. All right." Then she stood bolt upright. "Oh gods, I don't have my wand." She sounded quite terrified, and he supposed it was different for her, since she was good at magic and rather more physically fragile than he was.
"Oh, you can use mine if you need one," he said. "I'm a bit useless with it, so --" He held it out to her, and she grabbed it from his hand.
"Thanks," she said. She looked reassured, but she sounded rather irritated, and he couldn't see why.
He decided to let it pass. "Any time," he said. "After all, you paid for that one. I suppose it's really yours."
At this she burst into tears. "Damn it," she said, trying to wipe them away with her hands.
"...Er. Rowena. I'm really sorry if I -- er." She didn't look angry, just upset. "Are you all right?" he asked.
"No," she said, miserably. "Don't worry about it."
"All right," he said hesitantly. "But I'm going to need to borrow that wand again to blow the bears up."
"We need to get my wand back from them," she insisted.
"Can't you just get a new one once we get home?" he asked.
"We need to get my wand back," she repeated. "Do your magic wandlessly, if you can."
Her tone suggested that she would not hesitate to hurt him if he argued, and he was hesitant to do anything to make her cry again. "All right," he said. "But I might need it back temporarily. You know, for difficult things."
"Right," she said. She looked very unhappy at this, as though she were steeling herself for some great effort.
"All right," said Godric, taking a deep breath. "Can you, I don't know, disarm them, and then --"
"They're BEARS," Rowena pointed out.
"Yes, yes, I know, but just to get your wand and then we can set this workshop on fire," said Godric. He paused. "Why would they even still be carrying your wand?"
"Look, would you shut up?" Rowena snapped. "I need something to defend myself with."
"Not for running away!" said Godric. "That's pretty much the point of running away." He looked out the doorway, and saw that the bears were lumbering ever closer. "I'm sorry, Rowena, but I really can't see a way for us to fend off all the bears and get your wand back."
"Turn them into rabbits," suggested Rowena. Hesitantly, she offered the wand, and he took it, trying to will the bears into something smaller.
It wasn't working. "There's a lot of transfiguration on them already," said Godric. "I can't even tell if they were originally people or bears or something else." He lobbed the wand back at her and shut the door to the workshop, quickly moving all the heavy-looking furniture in front of it. The undead frogs began croaking wildly. "If you want to try your luck hexing them, be my guest, but I'd rather --"
"Fine. Yes. I'll do that." She walked out through the far door. Godric couldn't tell if she had a plan or was just mad. He hoped it was the former.
Should he shut the second door, the one that faced the moat? Rowena would have no way of getting back in if her insane plan or lack of it failed her. On the other hand, Godric knew he wasn't safe from the bears if he just left it open. Should he just sit in here and wait and hope for the best? He looked around for anything he could use to get them out of this situation, but his panic wasn't helping and these experiments were far beyond him. He didn't know anything about anything, not really. Just transfiguration, and transfiguration wasn't helping him here.
Roars from the still-open door told him that he was too late. He looked to see Rowena enter, pursued by angry bears. She looked quite pleased with herself even so. "I got it!" she said, waving her wand around.
Wasting no time, Godric swept her out of the way, pushed the front bear out by the face, slammed the door, and stood in front of it, holding it closed. He wished it had a good old-fashioned Muggle crossbar, but it didn't. "How did you get it back?" Godric asked.
"Fireballs!" said Rowena, brightly. "They're terrified of fire. I can make illusions of fire really well, so --"
"Basil mentioned that," said Godric. "Since you keep sending them at me."
"Ugh," said Rowena, disgustedly. "Basil's no fun, is he?"
Godric did not dignify this with a response, as it couldn't lead anywhere good. "What do we do now?" he asked.
"Fuck if I know," said Rowena. "Didn't you want to blow them up?"
"Well, you were the one who didn't want to kill them," said Godric. The door moved alarmingly, and he slid to the floor, leaning against it, before the bears could open it.
"You were all for self-preservation," Rowena pointed out, handing him his wand. "So, go ahead. Preserve yourself."
"I don't know what I'm doing," he admitted, casting a nervous glance towards the door. "They're going to get through the doors and rip us to shreds."
"We could fight them," said Rowena.
"You could fight them," said Godric. "I could stand around uselessly while they bite my ankles off."
"Why are they even angry at us, if they're bears?" Rowena asked. "Bears don't care if we stole anything. Bears just care if they're hungry or you're threatening them."
"Well, do you want to ask them?" he asked.
"No," she said, decisively. She looked around the workroom. "You can't do anything with this stuff?"
"I don't know what it is, half of it," he said. "You're the clever one, you work something out!"
"I'm the educated one," she said, ill-temperedly. "There's a difference."
"Not much of one," he said, with equal irritation.
"I bet you wish you'd just left me and run," said Rowena, sounding rather dejected.
"Not really," he said. "I'd probably be in the same situation or worse, only there'd be nobody for me to argue with."
She actually laughed at this. It was true, sort of -- it was comforting to do something so normal in the midst of this absolutely mad situation. "Well, we'd better get out of here before anybody more intelligent than the bears comes after us," she said.
"How?" he asked.
"Like you said, blow the place up, distracting the bears. They're all over there," she said, pointing to the door Godric was holding shut, "so if we unblock the other door, run out, and you do whatever you were planning to do once the bears are inside the workshop, it might work. The only trouble is where we're escaping to."
"What about the moat?" Godric asked.
"...The moat," said Rowena, disbelievingly. "The moat's made of fire, Godric."
"Yes!" said Godric. "But, look, both you and Helga were astonished that one person could keep the flame spells going on that, right? Wouldn't a giant illusion be a lot more practical than a giant ring of fire?"
"Oh," said Rowena. "Oh, you're right. That'd be much easier. I mean," she added, "if you're wrong, we'll die, but --"
"We'll die anyway," he said. "Won't it be better to go out in a blaze of, er..."
"Stupid cowardice?" Rowena asked. "I see your point. I don't want to go out in a blaze of being ripped up and eaten by bears."
"I don't think that technically qualifies as a blaze," said Godric.
Rowena shrugged. "So. Shall we blow up some bears?"
"Unless you've got a better idea," said Godric hopefully.
"Nope," said Rowena. She waved her wand at the door Godric was in front of. "You can get up now, it's locked. I really hope this works."
* * *
Historical note: The Battle of Maldon, which took place between the Anglo-Saxons and invading Vikings in 991, is discussed in the aptly-titled poem, "The Battle of Maldon." The poem has not one but TWO Godrics in it. Sadly, neither of them is much of a role model.
Chapter 22