Godric

Cool wind bit sharply at the cheeks of Godric Gryffindor as he pushed his gelding to move ever faster. He could hear his sister's mare gaining on him, and there was no way he would once again lose to a girl. Mud went flying in chunks all around as he rode, no doubt flinging up to stain the ends of his crimson cloak. Somewhere behind him Gaia laughed; he knew this was a good idea. Even in losing she could always find the happiness.

The giant, white tree that marked the edge of their land came into view and Godric knew he would win. A few more moments and he and his gelding were taking their victor lap around the tree, cheering.

"Well done, Godric," said Gaia Gryffindor, tugging on her reins and pulling her mare to a stop, "You've won, fair and square."

Godric grinned smugly. "I told you I could do it. You were fool to challenge me, baby sister," he declared. Gaia shook her head, narrowing her eyes. She had asked him to stop calling her 'baby', and their older sister Glenda as well, as Gaia was thirteen now and ought to be flowering into womanhood any day. That was one of the last things Godric wanted to talk about, probably ever.

She then cleared her throat. "We ought to go back," she said, nodding towards the path they just raced down.

Tilting his face towards the sky, Godric groaned. "Do you think they'll miss us at all?" he asked, halting beside Gaia.

His sister nodded. "Glenda surely will never let us forget it should we miss her wedding. Besides, Father said you're to meet her groom's lord father, he's a very important man," she said.

"I cannot tell you how many 'important men' Father has introduced me to," he said, still looking utterly bored with the entire thing. Glenda's betrothed, almost husband, was the son of a high lord who lived a day's ride from court. Another one of the things Godric never wanted to talk about was the Saxon knights, or becoming one. The walls around the Hollow Castle were stifling, but not nearly as imposing as the walls around the king's keep. The Gryffindors didn't even have a moat.

"All the same," Gaia replied, "Time to go. The race was nice, it's always fun to come out here, but the wedding."

Godric gave her a nod. "Lead the way," he said.

She smiled at him, a smile that could have lit up their woods on the cloudiest day, and galloped off for Hollow Castle. Godric was right behind her, once again alive in the feelings and smells and blurred sights of riding beyond their walls. He was glad to have this time with his baby sister, as Glenda hardly ever went near a horse unless she had to. Gaia at thirteen was stronger than any girl Godric had ever met or heard about; she could ride better than him, she knew how to wield a sword, she could shoot a long bow. Their lady mother was not happy, but did not dare to put a stop it. Gaia Gryffindor would sooner run away to the glens before she sat with Glenda and stitched for an entire day.

The siblings tore out of the woods and onto the Lionsroad, mere meters away from the gates of Hollow Castle. The Gryffindor stronghold was walled by pale yellow stone to match that of the castle, and decorated in twin tapestries and flags with their family crest and colors, crimson and gold. The gate was closed as the last of the wedding guests must have arrived after Godric and Gaia had gone out for their race.

The young lord stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistled to get the attention of the steward in charge of letting them inside. He appeared in the nest atop the wall and peered down at them. "Lord Godric and Lady Gaia, how did you get down there?" he asked of them, pushing his helm out of his eyes to see properly.

"We had a score to settle, Tom," Godric explained, "Would you be so kind as to allow us inside? Our sister's wedding should be starting at any moment."

The steward nodded, still holding his helm. Tomard, or Old Tom as they called him, was ancient and fat. He's been around the Hollow since before Godric was born, sixteen years ago. Maybe even before Glenda was born too. "Right away, m'lord and lady," said Tom and then he ducked back into the nest.

Moments later metal screeched and the gate dropped down. Godric and Gaia rode inside at a trot and over to the stables, where they climbed off their horses and handed them over to some stable boys. Godric was just shedding his gloves when someone came shrieking to the stable door.

"Where have you two been? Your sister is fretting herself to death and the two people she cares for most in this world are gone!" It was their mother. Lady Gryffindor was standing with her hands on her hips, her gold rings blending nicely with the underskirt of her crimson gown. They all wore Gryffindor colors, but Glenda was the only one allowed the gold dress.

"We weren't even gone an hour, Mother," said Godric.

Gaia hopped off her horse and stood beside him, her hands in the pockets of her riding leathers. "I thought her betrothed was supposed to be the person she cares most about the world," she stated.

The brown eyes of their lady mother, so much like Godric's own, narrowed at her daughter. "Do not disrespect me, child. Today is supposed to be a celebration," she said and snapped her fingers, "Now, take off those rags this instant, you too, Godric. You will not go into my home smelling like horse."

And then she left, hurrying back into the castle. Godric and Gaia followed at a much slower pace, putting off having to go into the main hall with all the guests. Godric sniffed.

"You do smell like horse," he pointed out. Gaia just laughed shoved him, which caused him to laugh as well as they entered their home.

Soon Godric was standing before a looking glass, fastening a clean cloak around his throat with a glittering lion broach. He supposed going riding in the first one he wore was a bad idea, but usually going out without thinking was something he didn't have to do. Not like Gaia, who had to change her clothes for nearly every occasion. The first cloak was nicer, he thought turning to look over his shoulder at his clothing: red silk doublet and matching cloak, gold embroidery and braiding. It was all lovely, but still his other cloak was nicer. It had a huge lion's head sewn into the center and was currently covered in mud. Why was he such an idiot?

Godric abandoned the glass and went over to wear he had tossed his soiled garments on the floor. He picked up the clothes and examined the cloak, and the mud stains near the hem. Pursing his lips, he glanced at the door to make sure it was shut tight and he was truly alone. Then he laid the cloak out on his bed and stood before it. From the folds of his doublet he pulled a long, wooden stick made from one of the maples just outside the walls of the Hollow. It was easier to do tricks like these with the crutch, although he wished he didn't have to, but it was less likely he would accidently burn the hem of his cloak with the stick. His grandfather had called it a wand when it was made for him, like what the great wizards of Camelot had used years and years ago.

He took a breath to focus, and then pointed the end of the stick towards the mud stains on his cloak. He muttered the word, in Latin, and watched as the mud stains were scourged from the red material before his eyes. Godric grinned triumphantly and tucked the wand away. Not even a second later, someone knocked on the door. Godric's heart leapt into his throat.

"Lord Godric, your sister requests your presence," said a handmaiden he recognized as Tesla.

No doubt Glenda demanded his presence, but she would never say such a thing. "I'll be only a moment, Tesla," Godric replied, then calmed his racing heart and quickly switched out his cloaks. All the while he followed Tesla from his chambers to the sept, he swallowed the sudden onslaught of worry he had for anyone beside immediate family catching his little magic trick. The Gryffindors were all capable, but Godric was the only one who practiced anymore. He and Glenda used to have lessons with their grandfather before he passed, and after that no one wanted to help them as their father had lordly matters to attend to. Godric tried to teach Gaia, but that turned out to be the only thing about the girl that she allowed their mother to control. She couldn't have stopped the old Lord Gryffindor from teaching her children to hone witchcraft, but she could stop Godric from doing it. She agreed they had a right to practice, but not under her roof, should they attract higher authorities. She would not see them hanged for their sorcery.

Still, Godric did what he could. When he wasn't learning swordplay, he was poring over spell books and magical histories like his grandfather had had him do as a boy. That was all he could do.

Glenda Gryffindor waited with their father outside the sept. She stood out of the sun to avoid pinking her nose, but the lord stood in full armor in the light. He gave Godric a warm smile as he approached, and Glenda looked up at almost the same time.

"There you are," said the father while she shrieked nearly the same words, waving one of her arms about.

Godric gave her a look. "Take a breath, sweet sister, your groom will still be there when I go in to sit down," he said.

Glenda clenched her fists. "You're late. I knew you would be late. I only have one wedding and you're late!" she cried.

Their father just looked amused. She was nervous. Godric stepped forward and took his sister's hands, then leaned in to kiss her cheek. "You make a beautiful bride, Glenda," he said. He gave her another smile and nodded towards his father, then slipped as quietly as he could into the sept.

The silence was all for naught. His family was seated in the very front row, in full view of the dais where his sister's betrothed and the septon to marry them stood. Godric dutifully ignored them and placed himself in the empty seat second from the center, sat between his mother and Gaia. She smelled like flowers now and wore a red velvet gown, her fiery hair tied up elegantly. If not for the playful grin she always sent his way, he would never recognize the girl he went riding with.

The ceremony dragged on and on just like Godric expected it to. Their father gave Glenda away to her betrothed, they recited the sacred vows, and exchanged rings. When they kissed for the first time as husband and wife, everyone clapped as if they weren't bored at all. The new couple led the way from the sept, and everyone gathered in the main hall of the castle across the grounds for a lavish feast.

It almost became too obvious that Godric was avoiding his father. He sat on a table that was raised from the rest of the hall as the bride's family, still seated between Gaia and their mother. If he looked one way, he could watch Glenda and her new husband feed each other and giggle and be merry. Honestly, Godric didn't even know if there was any love between the two of them. They sure looked like they were in love, but that was not an unusual thing to fake in a marriage like theirs. Godric hoped there were some mutual feelings there. No doubt his sister came with a rather impressive dowry. And, well, if he looked the other way he could watch serving boys try to pour enough cups of wine to please all the guests, and that was more entertaining to watch.

Once the feast had been eaten, the tables in the center of the hall were pushed apart to leave room for dancing. Everyone was on their feet then. Godric wasn't about to get away with it anymore. Gaia was off dancing with some lordling and Godric was standing along against the dais when his father walked over. His mother was on one arm, and on the other an old man with a long white beard. That was his new brother's father, who's been staying in the tower of the Hollow for weeks helping with the wedding. Although, he seemed far too old and dressed far too lordly to care about it very much, as it wasn't even his eldest son. Two young men and a lady trailed after them.

"Son," said Lord Gryffindor with a grand gesture of his arm, "I've come to properly introduce you to my Lord and Lady of Slytherin, the parents of your sister's new husband."

Godric bowed his head as old Lord Slytherin raised one of his arms, with some difficulty it seemed. "My two youngest sons, Lord Godric. Aemon and Salazar, knights of the Anglo-Saxon empire."

Both of the sons nodded respectfully in turn. They weren't completely dressed up in their knightly best, but they both wore swords on their belts. Godric wondered, as he looked at the Slytherin men, how much of an age difference there was between the lord and lady. The Gryffindors had parents similar in age, which was believed to be a better way to produce more healthy children, but there was only the three of them and Godric had no brothers. Countless siblings were not lucky enough to survive for their first breaths. Yet here Lord Slytherin was with a wife who looked much younger than he, with five strapping sons. The youngest there, Salazar, had to be almost ten years Godric's senior yet his lady mother looked no older than Godric's own. A little sickening if he was honest.

"A grand celebration we've put together, do you agree?" said Lord Gryffindor, looking around the hall with a proud smile.

"Beautiful," agreed Lady Slytherin, "Lady Glenda is absolutely radiant in that gown she wears. Was it specially made?"

"By the tailors right here in the Hollow," Godric's mother said with a grin to match her husband's.

"You must get them to make me a gown before we set off for home. I shall wear it and never forget this spectacular feast," said the lady in response.

Her husband nodded slowly. "Indeed, we haven't seen this grand a festival since our Salazar. Isn't that right, son?" he said, turning his gaze towards the youngest son.

Either Lord Slytherin didn't care or didn't notice, but Sir Salazar Slytherin seemed to be very uncomfortable with this direction of the conversation. He looked down at his boots and he moved to hide his hands behind his back. "Yes, Father," he replied, and when he looked back up his gaze met Godric's.

"Oh, the poor dear," Lady Slytherin sighed, "The mourning period is over and still he holds the silence. My son's lovely wife unfortunately passed after the birth of their son, and that tiny baby soon after. It was a very, very sad time for the House of Slytherin."

Godric remembered how his mother used to weep after one of her babies was stillborn or died soon after birth. The first couple times he and his sisters were also cut up about it, but soon they sadly stopped expecting the baby to live. He remembered how hollow he felt and how he knew it was unfair how a person could have such a short life and be taken away. Godric couldn't imagine how it felt to lose his own child.

"I'm sorry for your loss," he said to the young knight.

Salazar nodded in return, but said nothing. The Lord of the Hollow cleared his throat. "Perhaps you could distract yourself and try to convince my son to be a knight, Sir Salazar. He might need a little extra encouragement," he said.

Godric huffed, apprehension blooming in his chest, while Salazar Slytherin bowed. "As you wish, my lord," he said. Lord Gryffindor clapped his son on the shoulder, and showed the others away, the old Lord of Slytherin hobbling behind with his wife. No doubt Gaia was about to also meet the parents of Glenda's husband, along with handsome Sir Aemon. Godric wasn't sure if he approved of that.

Salazar cleared his throat. "You do not wish to become a knight for your king, Lord Godric?" he asked.

Godric swallowed. "With no disrespect, sir, not in the slightest," he replied.

To the younger one's complete relief, the knight cracked a smile and chuckled. "You're nothing short of respectful, my lord. Between you and I, the only reason I come with the title of 'sir' is because my brothers set a precedent. If I didn't train for King Edward, I would have forever have been the baby," he said.

Now Godric looked amused, and searched the floor for Gaia. He couldn't see her, so instead he turned back to Salazar. "I believe you would get along well with my little sister. She's asked Glenda and I to stop calling her the baby," he explained.

"My father mentioned Lady Gaia to me. She's a fair faced girl, but a girl all the same," he said and shook his head, "I would not feel right taking her as a wife."

"Oh no, no," said Godric very quickly, causing the eyebrows of the knight to go up in the surprise. Godric remembered his manners. "Sir. I just mean quite literally you and Gaia could have a nice conversation. I don't think she would make a very agreeable wife to a knight… she craves too much adventure for herself."

Salazar nodded. "She lives up to the Gryffindor spirit I've heard so much about then. I fear for my brother since marrying your sister."

This time Godric did roll his eyes. "I wouldn't worry, Sir Salazar. Glenda's greatest dream has always been to be just like my mother, a noble lady with a lord husband to have strong sons for," he assured.

Stroking his short brown beard, Salazar still smiled. "Perhaps then I fear for her, Lord Godric."

The Slytherins were to stay for two days while Glenda's dowry settled. After the feast, Godric did not see much of his sister's new family. In fact, he hardly saw much of his sister. She didn't sleep in her own bedchambers anymore, which have always been just two windows away from Godric's. He even found the servants cleaning out her rooms the day after the wedding. It was strange when Godric realized how much he would actually miss Glenda when she was gone with the Slytherins.

The morning after the feast was spent with the master at arms and Godric's father. The three men took turns at dueling, like they always did and have since Godric was old enough to hold a wooden stick. He always used to lose; their master at arms was his father's cousin. Godric's grandfather, the best swordsman in the kingdom, trained them both. But now he was older and knew all their moves, and with a step forward and thrust the point of his sword was pressed right into the chest of Lord Gryffindor.

"Ha," said Godric simply.

His father shook his head and gently pushed away Godric's blade. "Don't go getting cocky, son. Just because you know how to fight does not mean your training is over now."

"I know," he said, putting the point of his sword into the dirt, "I just get a lot of satisfaction from pretending to murder you."

Master Rodrick Gryffindor chuckled from the sidelines. "Other children get backhanded for saying something like that to their lord father," he said.

Godric looked at his. The older man simply shook his head again. "Those men are cowards. Hitting a child does not teach him discipline," he paused and raised his blade towards Godric, "Dueling him until he yields does. Never be a coward, Godric. What are the Gryffindor words?"

Godric put a hand on his hip. "Bravery, honor, and nobility," he recited.

Uncle Rodrick sighed and stroked his greying beard. "I always wished our words were better. Bravery is all well and good, but it doesn't roll off the tongue," he said.

Godric tilted his head and his father scoffed. "We don't need rhyming words like those pretentious Ravenclaws in the north. We just need them to be true," he retorted.

"Here, here," said Godric, raising a fist. He turned suddenly and looked up towards the tower, the top window of which he could just see on the other side of the Hollow. "Do you think the Slytherins have words?" he asked his father.

"Most likely," the lord replied, "However, I did not take the time to learn them after the letter asking for my daughter's hand."

"Attentive, aren't you?" teased Uncle Rodrick.

Lord Gryffindor turned to glower at him. Then he raised his sword. "Have at ye, scum!" he declared in reply. Rodrick started to laugh, but it was quickly overcome by a sudden shrieking for help.

Without waiting to ask, Godric jogged around the bend towards the gates of the Hollow. A serving woman was clutching onto Old Tom, weeping and still screaming for help when she spotted Godric. His father and Rodrick were not far behind.

"My lords!" she cried, stumbling towards them, "Th-three of us were by the river g-gathering roots for supper when… w-w-when-" And she broke into sobbing once more. Godric rushed over and caught the girl before she fell on her knees in the dirt, his sword forgotten by his father's feet.

"When what?" he asked, gently but quickly.

The girl sniffed and tried to compose herself. "D-Daisy Dutch thought she saw something downwind, so she went to see what it was, and-and then she was screaming! Lord Godric, I told her not to go, I says we had work to do but she didn't listen!" she wailed.

Godric was at his whit's end. By now half the Hollow had gathered outside at the girl's hysterics, including his sisters and his mother. "What happened to Daisy Dutch?" he implored.

"Something is trying to drag her under! She had a branch when I left her!" the maiden finished.

Godric placed the girl gently on the ground before bolting from the Hollow. There were shouts of his name, but he ignored them as he went barreling through the trees and towards the river. He should have taken a horse, but Godric Gryffindor wasn't exactly in his right mind at the moment as he thought of that young girl dying on his lands. The river was in the opposite direction than his racing track, and soon enough he could hear the water flowing, but no screaming.

He paused upon seeing the third maid. A basket of roots and rushes was upended beside her feet, and she was pulling desperately and breathlessly at a long tree branch. The other end was submerged in the water, and on that end must be Daisy Dutch, completely under. Godric pushed the idea of the creature behind this to the back of his mind and hurried over to grasp the branch and join her in pulling. With their combined efforts and exhausted grunting, they managed to pull the branch from the water. But the end had snapped off, and there was no sign of Daisy Dutch.

"Daisy!" the girl cried, sinking to her knees in the muddy bank.

Godric thought fast. As he heard the distant hoof beats and the shouts of people perusing him, he tore off his cloak and quickly dropped it on the shoulders of the girl weeping on the bank. She started to cry protests as he waded into the river.

"Godric Gryffindor, what do you think you're doing?!" It was his mother on horseback, but there was no time to lose.

At the edge of the shallows, he put out his arms and dove into the water. A woman, it must have been Gaia, shouted his name as he did so. It didn't stop him.

The water was murky with turned over mud and plant roots. It stung his eyes, but still he reached into his doublet to produce the maple wand. Focusing very hard on the magic he could practically feel under his skin, he thought about needing light and suddenly he had it. The very tip of the maple had lit up like a long, wooden candle, allowing Godric to see much easier. He could see the bottom of the river, and he could also see a strange creature near the bottom. It gave him a fright; the demon had the front half of a horse and the bottom half of a fish, and Daisy Dutch in its mouth by the ankle. She was unconscious and she would drown soon. He had never seen a thing like that before.

Do not be a coward, Godric thought, that girl will not die on your watch. But he did regret not bringing that sword. Wait. He cut himself off and looked at the maple wand in his hand. He had a weapon.

Kicking his legs, Godric swam deeper after the creature. He aimed his wand at its grotesque, hairless head and then sliced it across his visage like a sword. The light that had collected at the tip went soaring towards it, and on impact the creature jerked as if surprised or hurt and released Daisy Dutch's ankle. With a burst of energy, Godric darted down and grabbed the girl around the waist, and then pulled her back towards the surface. He was running out of air.

He heard a high, muffled sound in his ear in the dash for the top. The creature was protesting, and one look over his shoulder made him realize it had gotten over the initial attack and was stalking back to reclaim its pray. Godric wasn't about to let that happen. He released Daisy so she started to float back up, and once again aimed his wand at the creature. He thought again like he was holding a sword. His lungs burned for air. With one desperate thrust of his right arm, he watched red bloom from a range of gashes across the sternum of the creature. It reared back, its mouth open as if screaming, and then swam away in a trail of blood mixed with the mucky water.

When Godric broke the surface, he took huge gulps of air and coughed up some water that had gotten in the way. Some men hurried onto the bank as Godric forced his legs to propel him forward and helped pull Daisy Dutch to dry land. Once she was out of his arms, he quickly shoved the maple wand into his waterlogged sleeve before he hoped anyone was able to get a good look at it. Once that was done he dropped to the ground beside the young woman he just saved, and then he suddenly had no idea how to make her breathe again.

"Out of my way," shouted a man's voice. Soon Salazar Slytherin knelt across from him. He placed both of his hands on Daisy's chest and used all of his weight to press down on her ribcage. At that movement Daisy's eyes flew open and she sat up, coughing up water and muck everywhere.

Her eyes widened when they fell on Godric. "M-m-my l-l-" She had to stop, as her teeth had started to chatter and her lips were turning blue. Godric looked around quickly, and spotted the maid with his cloak.

"Th cloak, please," he croaked at her. She rushed over and quickly shed it for him, and he promptly wrapped it around Daisy to try and keep her warm. Salazar helped her sit up, and she shifted to rest comfortably against Godric's chest

"You saved me," she whispered to him, "From that thing. Thank you."

Godric was shivering too, but he barely noticed. "My job is to protect my people. You are one of those people, no matter your job," he replied.

Daisy Dutch gave him a smile. "You're so brave. I was being stupid," she said, "I'll remember this forever."

He smiled back. Stupid or not, he had never seen such a monstrous creature before. That worried him, especially if it lived so close to the Hollow and liked to dine on humans. Something that did give him hope, however, was the fact that his maple had obeyed him without any sort of words coming out of his mouth. Perhaps he was more talented than he thought.