Tale of a Time Long Gone

A/N: Just to let you know - I almost did not update this week. I was needed at work and got someone to replace me for the day at the last possible moment. So be happy, for I did not disappoint you today! :)

As usual, I must thank my dear beta who worked hard and long in order to make this story updateable (is that even a word?) on FictionAlley.

Thanks, Mina!

In this chapter: Do not be alarmed by the seeming time-gap - all shall be explained in due time! Sooooooooooo... the four are up and about, being chased by just about everyone. Godric drinks and Rowena is being irresponsible, Helga insightful and Salazar has a moment of sheer genius. What are they to do? Why - go up to Scotland, of course!

Enjoy!

Chapter 8 - Unknown Future

"The community was very important to the witches and wizards of the time. The community protected its own even when the Council failed to do so.

"We are speaking, of course, of the small country communities and not of the magic community as a whole. In this chapter, when we will discuss that community, we shall refer to it as the Wizarding World.

"The average community was small and very traditional. Men were considered more important than women, and certainly more powerful. Powerful women were regarded with suspicion and were often estranged from the rest of the community, for they posed a threat to the male leaders.

"A community usually consisted of a few families living in close vicinity to each other. The leader of each community came from either the oldest or strongest family.

"The community supported its members and made sure they were all in good health, that they were able to pay their taxes and did not do anything to anger neighbouring Muggles.

"To be an exile meant to be considered dead by all those who were once one's family or friends. It meant to be completely estranged from the community. There was no one who would protect them. They were always on their own, for none would risk their own lives for that of an exile. Exiles often died in the hands of Muggles..."

- Hogwarts, A History; Author unknown

It rained. It always rained. Rowena was tired of all the rain. She had not been dry for three - no, four - months. It seemed that ever since that sorry episode in the Council Chamber they had been on the road, never stopping in one place for longer than was necessary.

They were outcasts. Exiles. Ambrosius had decreed so.

Rowena glared at her ale as though it held the likeness of the Chief Warlock in its dark brown depths.

In the space of two days, their portraits or descriptions were to be found in each and every single wizarding home in the British Isles. The entire community was commanded not to harbour them on pain of death. If anyone were discovered sheltering them, the Council would make sure that the head of the house would be killed and his wife and children made Servants or exiles themselves.

They had been chased out of many a settlement, often stoned or hexed. Helga's arm had been broken by a large stone, and only Salazar's meager knowledge of Healing could save it. Salazar himself had limped for over a month after a particularly successful tripping hex had hit him. Godric still had a thin cut above his left eyebrow. It tended to open up every few days and drip blood into his eye. Rowena still felt the occasional need to get rid of the contents of her stomach.

They kept to Muggle settlements now. Muggles were superstitious and cruel, but as long as they kept their true identities to themselves, the companions could go among them safely enough. Salazar had bitterly told them that even the Muggles' worst verdict for a witch or a wizard was merciful in comparison to that of the Council.

"At least with Muggles death comes relatively swiftly," he had said, right after they had been chased out of yet another wizarding hold. "This death comes out of frustration, loneliness and the deprivation of magic altogether. I'd take the stake any day."

He had been shushed by Godric, who did not like that kind of talk, and by Helga, who had been afraid of Rowena' reaction.

As for Rowena, she had merely stared moodily into the distance and after a while had softly said, "Do you really, Salazar? Then it must be a sad thing to be you - so dependant on other people and so unable to live without magic. You should try it sometime. Maybe it will keep you in perspective."

Salazar had gaped at her for a long while before Godric had punched him in the arm and hissed something in his ear, presumably reprimanding him.

Godric's behaviour had changed drastically since he was freed of the Council.

Before, while naturally cheerful and optimistic, he was still prone to periodic moodiness and at times, when in a particularly bad mood snapped and resorted to unpleasant sarcasm. He had also intently disliked Rowena for some reason. Then again, she had not liked him either, so it evened out. They just did not get along with each other to begin with.

For all those months of the past winter they had bickered to no end, always at each other's throat. During the long ride to Stonehenge their disagreements intensified. Rowena vowed to never tell even Helga what had passed between them in those long, forced hours spent together on horseback.

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"Never in my life had I met someone who is so inconsiderate of other people's ideals and feelings!" she snapped at him. His close presence for all those hours for the past three days had gritted on her nerves. The fact that his arms were in such close proximity to either side of her body, and that his body was so tight to hers, made her feel uncomfortable. She had never been this close to a man who had not been her father, and she disliked Godric Gryffindor greatly. She wished Salazar would never have noticed the minor problem concerning the sizes of the horses, and constantly lamented for not sitting before Salazar in Helga's stead. The older man was quiet, polite, and always acted like a gentleman towards both women.

"Then clearly you have not met yourself," he hissed, "for whatever I lack at these departments, you lack tenfold! You have no consideration whatsoever for your fellow men! Why is everything about you?"

"About me? What of all this was about me? You were the ones to come into our peaceful life, banging and shouting. You were the ones to burst in on us and demand obedience from us. You have no right to blame me. You have no right!"

"You-!" he started and then, glancing at Helga and Salazar who were riding not too far away, deep in conversation, lowered his voice. "You are an obnoxious girl who had never learned how to control her impulses. You have been indulged irresponsibly by a doting mother and a bitter father. You, my lady, are a spoilt brat."

Rowena's grip on the saddle tightened. Her knuckles were white against the dark, inlaid leather. She had never felt so angry. She wanted to hurt Godric just as much as he had hurt her, with his slander against her parents.

"You are discourteous, Lord Gryffindor," she said coldly. "Your manner is crude and you have no qualms insulting people you disagree with-"

"You mean yourself?" he cut her off scornfully. "I do not disagree with you. I never have. It is the simple matter of you keeping a grudge for five years. No one can get along with you because of your habit of forming an opinion at first sight, before you even get to know a person! You have almost no friends in this world!"

"What do you know about people whom I don't get along with? You don't even know me!" she snapped angrily, trying to quench the tremour of sickness she felt at his accurate description of her habits.

"I may not know you for long, but I - unlike you - can read between the lines! I've heard the way people in Culhwch speak of you. They did not like you even before they knew you were a witch! You were always arrogant and you looked down upon them like they were earth worms! You are an unpleasant girl! You have no limits! In time, when you will want to find a husband no one will have you. Your looks are nice enough, but your character is ghastly! I would not spend more time with you than absolutely necessary and required by the assignment. You disgust me."

Rowena could say nothing to that. Godric's words were sharp and hurt her deeply. She felt something well up in her. She turned her face straight ahead and refused to speak to Godric for the next few days.

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Rowena blinked back tears. Even remembering those harsh words hurt. He had been so hateful and resentful.

After releasing himself from the grip of the Council's combined wills, however, Godric's whole demeanor had changed.

Gone were the moody silences and snappish manner. Gone was the subdued expression. This was Godric Gryffindor as he should have been: A carefree, cheerful man who looked the world straight in the eye and laughed at all its hardships.

Another profound change was his sudden politeness towards her. He was always friendly to Helga. It was impossible not to like the sunny girl - it was almost a crime not to. But something had changed in him in those long terrifying minutes when Ambrosius, backed with all the force of the Council, had commanded him to kill Rowena. When she had stood there, heart thumping with fear, she had looked straight into his eyes where the internal struggle was evident the most and had seen that he did not want to kill her.

She was his friend.

He never told them what it was that finally helped him throw off the will of twenty four people. He seemed to want to forget.

Covertly, pretending to study a rough painting behind him, she looked at Godric. He was steadily finishing his third tankard of ale. She realized that this was one of those days.

Godric had two modes in life, she had learned: Stone sober or roaring drunk. There was no in-between. He seemed incapable of being tipsy. Salazar said it was because he was a rotten drinker, as he usually got drunk after three and a half tankards of ale, or two goblets and three quarters of wine.

The days when he drank were those he was so frustrated with their current situation that he felt he had to be unconscious to them and to the world for a while.

Rowena elbowed Salazar. "Take that tankard from him. It's his third one tonight. We need to get him to bed before he starts snoring right here. It took the three of us an eternity to get him upstairs last time."

Salazar nodded and gently detached his friend from his ale. "That's it for tonight, Godric. Let's go up and put you in bed."

"But I haven't started on my fourth one," Godric protested.

"Precisely. Come on. We will see you tomorrow morning, ladies. I told the innkeeper we will be leaving before noon. He started looking edgy with us occupying his best rooms for a week. Good night."

They bid the men goodnight. Rowena drained her own tankard and Helga put down her only half-finished glass of cider. She had taken a liking to the drink after leaving Stonehenge.

"It feels hopeless, Raven," Helga said softly so that the Muggles surrounding them would not hear.

They were sitting on crude benches near a dying fire in a Muggle inn's dinning hall. They had been staying there for the past week, clueless as to where go next. Rowena had felt she had seen most of England and quite a bit of Wales in the past months.

They could never stay in the same place for more than a few days because Ambrosius had sent dozens of the Chamber Guard after them, supposedly so he could execute them publicly. It was a mind-chilling thought.

They could do nothing.

"We can't even go home," Helga said sadly. "Not when the entire valley knows we are magic. I'm still surprised no one had noticed us when we had left back in the spring. Have you even written to your mother lately?"

Rowena cringed at the accusing tone. Helga knew very well that she had not written in months. She could not bring herself to tell her mother that she had been pronounced an outlaw in the Wizarding World. "Not really," she finally admitted, not meeting Helga's eyes. "I don't want her to worry."

"You don't want her to worry? If you didn't want that, you would have written. She's probably worried sick because she didn't hear from you in months!"

"I can't lie to her!" Rowena snapped. "If I write to her, I'll have to tell her everything. And she will be afraid for us and may come out of the Glen at the risk of her own life. I don't want this to happen, so forget it!" She got up and ran away from Helga up to their room.

From across the hall she could hear Salazar's voice giving instructions to a drunken Godric. She repressed a chuckle of dry amusement and entered her room, closing the door as quietly as she could.

Not wanting Helga to start berating her as soon as she would reach the room, Rowena slipped out of her gown, undid the clasp that held her hair in place and slid between the sheets, closing her eyes.

Soon enough she heard the door open and close, and Helga's soft footsteps moving across the room as she lit a candle, changed into her nightgown, brushed her hair and folded all their clothes neatly. The footsteps stopped, and Rowena strained to hear even a rustle of cloth.

"I know you're awake, Raven," Helga's soft whisper in her ear almost made her jump out of her skin. "You can't hide things from me. It's not Rosalind's worry that frightens you. It's her disapproval. You are acting like a little girl. Grow up." She then went to her side of the bed, snuffed out her candle and soon her even breathing indicated she was deeply asleep.

The moonlight shone through a crack in the shutters and reflected on a pair of unblinking eyes.

Rowena remained awake for a long time.

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"Servant Gryffindor - take her life!" Ambrosius' voice echoes coldly in her head. Her mind tries to process the meaning of the words, but nothing comes up. Can he truly mean...?

Why would Godric obey to this deranged man?

She turns to face her companion. Her eyes widen as she realizes he is going to obey. She can see a desperate gleam in his eyes as he heavily takes a step in her direction and slides his hand down to his sword.

He is going to kill her.

"Godric, no! You can't really do that! She is your friend!" Helga cries from behind him. When he does not comply, still walking in that slow, agonizing pace, his eyes madly moving in his face, the small girl takes hold of Salazar's arm and shrieks, echoing Rowena's own thoughts, "Salazar - stop him! He will kill her!"

Salazar starts moving in Godric's direction, but Ambrosius sees it and commands him to restrain Helga. She sees how he holds Helga with an iron grip, yet his eyes are desperately willing Rowena to run - save herself.

She would not run. She would not give Ambrosius the pleasure of seeing her pleading for mercy.

She stands her ground. She looks straight into Godric's eyes, trying to give him some of her own conviction and belief that he would not do the deed.

A movement catches her eye. Helga sinks her teeth into Salazar's arm and bites down hard. There is blood on her face when Salazar releases her with a cry of pain and the merest ghost of a relieved smile, though perhaps Rowena imagines it. She then runs to Godric, before anyone can stop her and slams into him with all the power in her small body and then attempts to pull him away.

Nothing helps. Godric continues his slow approach. However, Rowena can see that his approach becomes slower still. He is fighting, even though all members of the Council are commanding him to take her life.

He falls to his knees, yet he continues approaching her. His body shakes. He is fighting a formless enemy.

Something happens.

With a cry of rage Godric gets up and stares vehemently at a shocked Ambrosius. "You cannot make me!" he cries out. "I will never do as you say again!"

The Chamber is silent. Not even a whisper is heard.

She can see Salazar wakes up from his sleep-like trance. He stares at Godric in wonder, and a slow smile tugs at this lips.

"You are free," he says.

"Kill him, Slytherin!" Ambrosius suddenly shrieks, his face panicked. "Kill the traitor!"

She sees how Salazar returns to his trance, starting to draw his wand. His hand stops.

"No," he says softly. "You have no power over me anymore, Ambrosius. I am my own man. Godric's refusal has weakened you. You can no longer force me, either. We stand together. We will always will."

Ambrosius gapes at Salazar as the other man simply shrugs off the dregs of the Council's wills. He walks over to where Godric and Helga stand and joins them. Rowena known it is time to leave.

"Remember us, usurper and murderer," she says coldly and loudly. "Remember us who had rendered your pathetic Council powerless. We are going now, but when we come back - we will destroy you. There will be nothing left of Ambrosius of York but a bloated reputation that will burst like a rotten fruit. Farewell - for the time being."

She then walks over to her companions - nay, friends - and whispers, "We had better go before they realize that they have no trouble stopping us."

They leave - right through the front doors of the Council Chamber. No longer would lords Slytherin and Gryffindor have to enter Stonehenge through the Servants' door. They are free men, and will forever remain so.

The moment they are out of Stonehenge, they hear the sounds of pursuit. They knew it would not be as easy as that.

They run. Behind them hexes and curses are thrown. Arrows are shot.

She turns around, trying to erect a shield around them.

An arrow comes straight at her - there is no time to run-

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Rowena opened her eyes. It was still dark and she was sweating profusely. She could almost feel that arrow graze her side again. She remembered clearly how Godric had thrown himself over her, sheltering her from other arrows and allowing her at the same time to shoot her own curses at their pursuers. She remembered how they had barely reached their horses, how they had escaped almost at the last moment. Four fugitives in the darkest night.

She shuddered and attempted to go back to sleep. After a while she gave up and got out of bed, got dressed and brushed her night-tangled hair. It grew long again, she noticed. Perhaps it was time to cut it again.

She spent the few hours until daybreak reading The Legacy of the Phoenix by candlelight.

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"We can't go on like this," Godric said in the morning when they were already on their horses and on the road. He was his energetic self again. There was no trace of drunkenness in him.

"What, you mean traveling around doing nothing?" Rowena asked with a roll of her eyes, twisting in the saddle to face him. "We already know that, my dear Godric. Have you nothing new for us?"

He rolled his own eyes in reply. "Then maybe it's time to stop speculating and actually do something about it."

"We obviously can't go to anywhere magic," Helga said in a subdued tone. "And if we go anywhere Muggle - we can't be ourselves. Admit it, Godric. We are stuck right in the middle. Exiles of both worlds."

"Not precisely," Salazar said unexpectedly. "There is always Dahlia. Why did we overlook her, Godric? I am certain she will happily give us shelter."

"Why indeed?" Godric said, his deep voice causing a vibration to pass through Rowena's spine. She jerked upright, trying to have as little of her body touching Godric's.

"Who is Dahlia?" she asked to cover her jerking movement.

"My sister," Salazar replied. "She lives with her husband in the Loch. I have not seen her in years, but I'm sure she will have no problem having us for a little while."

"Where is this Loch?" Helga asked.

"Up in Scotland. It's a large wizarding village - a few dozens of families. Godric's mother lives there as well."

"A whole wizarding village?" Rowena enquired in dread, not liking the sound of it. "Isn't it much likelier for us to get caught if we go there?"

Godric shook his head. "Not if we are careful not to show our faces in daytime. We'll go into the village after nightfall and while we stay there we will keep to the inside rooms. Are you sure Bran wouldn't oppose to this, Salazar?"

"There is only one way we can find out."

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The way up north to the Loch was long and tedious. The summer droned on, yet the rain did not seem to want to stop. It was rather bleak up in the southern end of Scotland.

The companions were weary of all their travels and wished for nothing more than a warm meal and a dry bed.

Mud was a constant companion to them. Godric's and Salazar's fine garments were no longer so fine. They were mud-splattered and wet. Rowena and Helga looked no better.

One evening, when the rain had surprisingly ceased, Salazar let out a relieved sigh. "We are here," he said contently.

Rowena strained her eyes in the fading light and gazed at their destination.

The village was rather large. A few dozen houses - just like Salazar had said - and each house had a well-kept garden surrounding it. The roads were paved and the lights in the windows shone brightly like jewels in the growing dark.

Out in the distance there she could glimpse the last twinkling rays of sun shining on a large body of water.

"Welcome to the Loch," Godric said.

They waited until night had fallen. Helga had fallen asleep at some point, and Rowena was close to it herself when they had finally led their horses down to the village.

Salazar led them around the perimeter of the village, avoiding the lights from the houses as best he could. After a while, he stopped near a small clump of trees.

"That is the house," he indicated an already darkened house. "I see they have already gone to bed. I hope we will not startle them too much."

They tethered Griffith and Cian just outside the village, inside the cluster of trees. Then they walked in silence to the house.

Salazar raised his hand and knocked firmly on the door.

There was a sharp crashing sound from within the house, followed by hurried footsteps.

From inside, someone unlatched the door carefully.

"Ah, good-" Salazar began with a smile before a wand was shoved right into his face.

"Take another step, ruffian," a deep voice boomed angrily, "and I will make sure there will be nothing left of you for the lawmen to hang."

And this is the end of yet another chapter! A big thank you to all those who reviewed during the past week!

anor: Thank you very much. I hope you will enjoy the rest of the story...

Siriusisnotgay267: I'm glad that you are enjoying the story so far, and I am very happy that you chose to read it despite it being a Founders story. Thank you :)

Anafly358: Thank you, and I can assure you that updates will continue to be regular - since most of the story is already beta-d. As for Salazar being evil... my take on that would be long time in coming - don't worry. Still a lot of plot to go through.

Naycit: Ahhh... you understand Godric only too well - even better than he knows himself, since he hasn't caught up with that idea yet ;) The reason why Salazar didn't have to fight the Imperius thing was because Godric had already broken the way through, making it possible for him to throw it off easily enough. Part of his loyalty to Godric and the fact that he saw that it could actually be done. And as for Ambrosius? He'll get what's coming for him - I promise *laughs evilly*

Doxycide: As long as you keep reviewing, I'll keep mentioning you :D And yes, that part about Godric and Rowena? Such a dead giveaway, no? Glad you enjoy the story that much :)

Janetteorjessi: Thank you :) And yes, I am currently in the process of writing a Marauders era story written mostly from Remus' PoV. It's on fanfiction.net under the same penname, if you would like to read it - as well as the complete but unbeta-d version of this story. I won't answer about Godric and Rowena, because that's part of the plot, but there are 30 chapters to this story, plus the prologue and the epilogue. It's all complete!

Ramona95: Thank you so much :D

R&G: I'm happy that you liked the fight scene. It was fun to write ;)

And that is it for this time! Thank you all and stay tuned!