Travails
"Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art... It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival."-C.S. Lewis
Helga was scared, frightened, out of her mind. Shivering from the cold, she trudged through the remnants of Godric's Hollow in the nearby woods, wand in hand, trying to keep warm. Night had fallen and a cold February wind had whipped up off the Irish Sea, chilling the air to below freezing. A chilling rain had drenched her clothes, causing it to stick her body, chilling her to the core.
Earlier, she'd burned a hole in a tent to escape to find her best friend. Now she was regretting that decision, yet her heart pang with pain unbearable. The Welsh healer had long since run out of tears of grief. Rowena Ravenclaw was her family; with the losses she'd suffered, pain was an old friend, but this was unbearable. How much more could she lose?
"Where are you?" she muttered, more to herself than anyone, as another wind gust whipped her cloak about.
She tripped and collapsed to the ground as light snow began to fall.
Deep in the Welsh woods, Sir Godric waited impatiently in a small group of trees. No one knew he was here, if anyone did he was as good as dead. A figure Apparated next to him out of thin air, as he turned Gavin was there (not Sir anyone as Godic liked to remind himself). Sir Godric tried to stifle a fit of the giggles: he was wearing something that looked like it was in fashion when Julius Ceaser roamed the earth.
"You come alone?" Sir Godric demanded.
"As I promised," Gavin said.
Godric did not like the haughty behavior that he could literally feel reeking off of his former...maybe not yet...former friend.
"Are you hoping to change my mind?" Gavin said. "Like I said before, I've just saved all of us."
"From what? Living under a hag?" Gryffindor taunted. Unlike his friend, he proudly wore the lion that represented courage, bravery, and integrity. "What are you wearing, a dress?"
"She's not a hag, she's..."
"An imposter, the real Morgana is dead, surely you know that. Merlin killed her and we found out he was real. This is the biggest act of stupidity I've ever seen. No, Expelliarmus!"
Sir Gavin's wand flew right into Godric's outstretched hand.
"Witch alive? Magical being? Give me a break. Where power rises, an antidote is always there to stop it. How long do you think she'll last before one of her followers murders her in her sleep? Or, better yet, some kills her in open battle? What do you think will happen when...
"B..."
"No, no, the adult is talking," Sir Godric said, getting louder and louder. He was casting the Silencio charm wordlessly as well, ensuring his message would get across loud and clear. "When she finally falls...and yes she will fall...those denied vengeance will come for her stooges, which is you."
"Not if she wins, which she will, and all those who you protect are dead!" Gavin spat back.
"So sad, to see such a brave man corrupted by a hag. See you on the battlefield Sir..no wait, not Sir anymore...Gavin. When we meet again, one of us will breathe our last."
"Then I'll see you on the other side, brother!" Sir Gavin said.
"Good luck finding your wand," Godric said. He tossed it into the woods.
"You..."
Sir Godric had already vanished into the night.
As soon as they could, Salazar and Sir Godric shepherded the refugees to another safe house where trusted associates would conduct them the rest of the way to Angelesy off the coast of Wales. The two went with all speed back to Godric's Hollow.
"Others?" Salazar asked, confused.
There were no bodies around. The debris had been cleaned up and burned in a massive pit in what had been the town square. The small church at the center of the village had mercilessly been spared, but only one new grave was dug. On top was a massive monument, a jagged stone professionally hewn from rock. In Norman, Welsh, and Saxon it stated;
Here lies one hundred innocent villagers and defenders, their identities known but to God. They died defending Godric's Hollow on February 15th. The Last Enemy that shall be destroyed is death.
"Who did this?" Sir Godric asked.
"I did," said a voice that nearly made both topple over.
King William of Normandy stepped forward out of the darkness, flanked by several men in cloaks and nearly one hundred Norman soldiers.
"Sir Godric, I'm so sorry," he said, giving the Saxon a hug.
"Thanks, your Royal Highness," Sir Godric said, unsure of what this meant.
"Time is short, so I'll get to the point," William said. He was dressed like his men, chain mail armor and cloak, no one could see that he was a King.
"We're facing a common threat gentleman. Both magical and non-magical. These wizards are stirring up rebellions among the common people. Senseless killings are happening all over the country. I think it's time that we set aside our differences and work together for the common good of Europe. This movement is spreading and is even in Normandy."
Salazar and Sir Godric looked at each other, still uncertain. Was it a good idea to accept the help of a Muggle king? Past relations between the wizarding community and Muggle overlords had been tense, not quite like that of Merlin and King Arthur.
"We'll be honored to help you," Sir Godric said. "Our people are safe for now."
"I'm glad to hear that," William said. "My visit to Godric's Hollow was by far the highlight of our travels to the capital."
He looked about, noting some major absences.
"Where is Lady Helga, Maid Mina, and the Princess?"
"We aren't sure," Sir Godric said, conceded. "That's why we've returned, to look for both of them. We were separated during the battle."
"I'll have my garrisons keep an eye out."
"What do you know?" Salazar asked. As much as he loathed William and any Muggle overlord, for once they actually seemed to care about the common people.
"My Norman wizards and witches (Salazar snorted, noting they were the cause of much of the trouble) have detected a Muggle-Wizarding conspiracy. Lead by a witch calling herself Morgana, she is trying to take over the entire British Isles and begin a campaign of terror. We believe she is going to try to making a wizarding outpost where no non-magical blood exists."
Salazar and Godric glanced at each other; it made total sense. Everything that had happened, down to the attack on Godric's Hollow. William's invasion had made the job that much easier, so that when this Morgana had struck.
"I'll take care of the Muggle side of things," he said. "I have my wizards (several men around him nodded) to protect me. You gather what magical forces and men you can. The only way I can see we defeat them is to lure them into open battle. I've fought men in the woods and never came out the winner. Let's say St. Albans, do you think we can meet there in six months' time?"
"It might be sooner," Sir Godric pointed out. "I can give no guarantees."
"That's where I'm headquartered," King William said. "Come anytime if you need help."
Each wizard in William's company grabbed a Muggle man or woman next to him and Apparated away, with William the last to leave.
"Things are looking a little brighter," Godric said.
"I'm not sure about that," Salazar said, still thinking. "I have many qualms with dealing with ambitious men like him, especailly Muggles. That's what Willaim is, the worst of his kind."
"I understand your concern, even your hatred," Sir Godric said. "But the plain fact of the matter is that we have no choice."
"Well, first we need to find Helga and Rowena, and quickly. If we don't, we're doomed."
Both men ran off towards the river where they both had last seen the women.
48 hours later...
No luck befallen the two searchers. Despite searching for tracks, questioning the locals, and even enlisting William's help, nothing had come of it.
"Maybe we just have to accept the fact that they are..."
"Don't say that," Sir Godric roared. "If you do it will come to past in your mind. Defeat begins within Salazar. Always remember that!"
"Wait, tracks!"
The rain the night of the escape had preserved perfectly the escape. A mass of tracks lead into the woods, but two set of tracks lead to the river.
"Do you think?"
"Maybe, still, that's a lead, follow the river!" Sir Godric yelled.
Both drew their wands and hurried on down the banks of the swollen stream. Both hoped it wasn't already too late.
Rowena's first seventy-two hours as Queen (Princess as she reminded herself) were an absolute hell. Despite being bed bound and unable to walk, an endless procession of problems arrived at her cave step. From issues with living quarters to a shortage of food, she couldn't imagine a worse situation her people. Her head pounding, she slumped against the pillows absolutely exhausted.
"Not another one," Rowena almost yelled. "Mina, tell them the Queen is unable to see any visitors!"
Mina met the woman at the entrance
"Not now, she is recovering," Mina said.
"I must change our living quarters, I can't get along with my tentmate, this is urgent. Now a woman is in charge, she'll understand."
"OUT!" Mina almost shouted. "Fix the squabble yourself. Now GO!"
"Leave her be," said a burly man. "Fix it by yourself. Get yourself a new shelter or tent. Go, go!"
The women stalked away muttering mutinously. Mina was grateful: Dolag, a large warrior with beefy arms and brown hair, blue striped tatoos, and former head of the King's Guard had taken upon himself the title of unofficial protector of the Princess. Rowena had appointed him as her primary commander and delegated the task of filtering what actually go through to her to him.
"How's the Princess?" he asked.
"It's Queen," Mina retorted.
"No, Princess," Dolag responded. "She doesn't flinch when they use that title."
"But she..."
"Lacks self-confidence? I get it. When the King elevated me over many others to head of his peronsal retinue, I too lacked confidence. The Princess's mother told me that's how they knew I was worthy. A true leader often feels overwhelmed. So please call her Princess until she can be properly coronated."
Mina entered Rowena's room to find Madea in a panic.
"She's running a high fever and is unconscious," Madea said. "I've tried everything I know, but nothing's working. Can you do something?!"
Mina rushed to the princess's side. Rowena was unconscious, and as Mina felt her forehead she gasped at how hot the princess was. She could only guess that some kind of infection had gotten in and had now set up shop.
"Where's Helga when you need her!" Mina cursed, causing Madea to flinch. A sudden idea struck her. "Helga went into the woods when we were attacked invontarily. Perhaps she came back looking for us."
"Who's Helga?"
"A healer, the best I know," Mina said. "DOLAG!"
Dolag came running into the cavern.
"Rowena is ill, there is a healer in the woods nearby named Helga. She has blonde hair, is shorter than us, and was wearing brown dress. Send out patrols to look for her!"
"Yes ma'am," Dolag said. He left the cavern and began barking orders to his men. Over 350 people left the camp towards the location of Godric's Hollow with a description of Helga, each desperate to save the Princess's life.
Helga's limp body didn't move as snow began to fall and the inhabitants bedded in for a rare mass snowstorm. Four burly Ravenclaw soldiers nearly stepped on top of her.
"We found her," one of them called in Gaelic. "Is she still alive?"
"She's breathing, let's get her to Madea quickly!"
The four raced back towards the cave, collecting other search parties and telling them to return. Unknown to them, Sir Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin were hot on their heels.
MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE! This is probably my last posting for the year. It's hard to believe it's flown by so fast.