Romania

Tallus Ravenclaw paced outside his tent. The knights had left him alone at the camp site with the healers. He was a scholar, unused to battle. Still, he the night air was humming with magic. Had they not put up their silencing charms for the benefit of the muggles, Tallus knew the air would be thick with the sound of wizards and giants. He fingered the small golden locket at his throat. Inside, the delicate portrait of Rowena was doubtless glaring at him. She had told him not to come here, but the promise of the magic scrolls of the east had been too great. Now he could not leave. Not with the wizard's numbers dwindling daily. He had written to Rowena. Soon, he knew, he would be called to battle. The giants and trolls, creatures of the distant mountains, had grown restless. The solitude they had enjoyed had been broken by the spread of man. The muggles no longer feared magical folk. Soon, there would be none left. He watched as the healers gathered together. The wounded would be apparated back to the safety of the camp. Tallus frowned, opening his locket and looking into Rowena's dark eyes, they looked back at him, softening at the sight of his worn face, before she sidled out of the frame. In her absence, Tallus felt his loss greater than ever. He might not see her again.

"GODRIC!" Rowena raced through the halls, her normally quiet voice echoing down the corridors. "GODRIC! SALAZAR! HELGA!" She burst into the tower. Her companions froze. Godric was balanced precariously on a high ladder while Helga and Salazar floated an abundance of red cloth to the ceiling, upon her entrance, the cloth fell to the ground. Godric threw up his hands in frustration.

"Well that's ruined!" He huffed, leaping down from the ladder. Rowena was shaking, holding back sobs.

"What is it? What's the matter?" Helga ran to Rowena, taking her hands. Rowena gasped, her voice straining.

"Tallus...my portrait...please!" She looked up tearfully at Godric, who had now rushed to her side, his brow creased with worry.

"Tallus? Is he here? Is he injured?" Godric asked. Rowena shook her head violently. Salazar was there suddenly, holding a strange red liquid to her lips. It looked like wine, but the effect as she drank was instantaneous. Her breathing steadied, and she began to speak, quickly and urgently.

"My portrait, I have our wedding painting in my study. I had disappeared, I was with Tallus, but I came back. She...she told me that the battle was all but lost." Rowena gasped, her eyes misted, but due to the potion she could not cry, "Tallus is going to join them!"

Helga looked up. Salazar's face was stony, but Godric had a strange glint in his eye. She turned back to Rowena, who clutched at the front of Godric's robes.

"We must go to him! Godric, please!" She cried out. "I cannot lose him. I cannot! Not now..."

Godric nodded, turning to Salazar. "What say you, old friend? It's been years since we last rode into battle together."

Salazar's eyes flashed. "Where are they Rowena?"

"At the base of Moldoveanu. The Carpathians. Their camp...it is almost lost." Rowena choked out.

"We will prepare at once. Helga, owl Potter. The Ministry must be told." Salazar said swiftly. "Take Rowena back to her quarters." As he spoke, silver armor began to wind it's way up his arms and across his chest. Helga noted the green, serpentine coat of arms that hissed and moved at his chest. At the same moment, Godric was being coated with gold armor, a roaring lion at his shield. His sword, which Helga remembered from the night they met, whizzed through the air past her head and into his waiting hand.

"I'm going with you!" Rowena cried.

"No!" Godric shouted, "Absolutely not! You have never been in battle, and in your condition..."

"I am a better healer than you and Salazar combined Godric! Tallus needs me!" She hissed. "You cannot keep me from him."

Helga looked questioningly at Rowena. Of course, her robes were loose, unbelted. She had been so tired lately, keeping safe in the kitchens. Why hadn't she realized? Rowena was with child.

"Rowena..." She whispered, and the woman whirled on her.

"No Helga! My husband needs me! I will not stay here and wonder if he is alive! I will not!" Her eyes were bright.

Helga paused a moment before nodding. "Then I am coming to."

"Helga..." It was Salazar. She could hear a strange pleading in his tone. She shook her head, not looking at him.

Godric seemed to be glowing though. "Helga is descended from dragon tamers, Salazar. She will come."

Helga nodded, turning and gliding from the room. She needed to write the minister. Then she would be ready. She felt a cold hand grip her arm before she had gotten far down the corridor.

"Helga, please," Salazar's face was strained. "Please, you cannot. Stay here. Keep Rowena safe."

She turned on him. "You think Rowena can stay any more than I? No! I have seen too much death. I am coming." She tried to pull her arm from his grasp, but he held tight. "Let go, Salazar." She rumbled. Her hazel eyes flashed as she gripped her wand.

His face was contorted in pain, "Helga, if something were to happen to you..." He seemed unable to finish. She pulled away again, but still he held tight. "Godric and I have been in battle before Helga. Please...even if you survived..."

"I cannot leave you to fight this alone." She said quietly. Then with a flick of her wand he released her, as though he had been burned. She turned and flew down the hall. In her rooms she went to her wardrobe, donning a leather breastplate. Her hair magically wove itself into a tight braid at the top of her head. She donned her boots and with a high pitched whistle called to her owl, Barnabas. With of flick of her quill she hashed out a quick letter to Potter.

The eastern defenses have fallen. The southern Carpathians. Send help. -H.

Barnabas took the letter and was out the window in a moment. Helga turned on her heel and made her way back to Godric's common room. She would not let Rowena be hurt. She could not allow Godric to fight alone. Salazar could not die.