"Issa's Gift" for chimbomba
Title: Issa’s Gift
Gift for: chimbomba
Author: firstyearagain
Characters: The Four Founders
Rating: G
Warnings: none
Genres: Friendship
Author's Notes: Chimbomba, I tried to fit in 5 of the seven prompt ideas. However, I must say when I first read, “Why on earth would Rowena want to become a mother?” I was going to just say, she enjoyed sex and the pill was not invented yet.
Summary: Salazar has a different idea of how Hogwarts should be built, and although he tires to acquiesce, he finds it difficult not to demand his way. His mother, Issa, sends gifts to keep the peace and to offer comfort.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Issa’s Gift
Rowena sat on the ground looking out to the lake and wondering how she would ever make it through the summer. She pulled her knees up and leaned forward, pulling off her shoes and then standing and walking to the shoreline. Once there, she hoisted up her skirts and began wading along the edge. The mud squished between her toes and she closed her eyes, remembering the pond of her youth and wanting again to be so young and able to strip off her clothes, sink under water, and feel the coolness envelope her body and wash over her.
Leaving the lake, she walked to the edge of the clearing and peaked back up at the towers. Seeing no one, she smiled and ran back to the water, pulling her robes over her head and dropping her underskirt to the ground. She sighed as she stepped naked into the water and sunk to her knees, cupping water in her hands and washing her face, letting the water run down her tender breasts and over her swollen stomach. She leaned forward, stretching her arms out ahead of her, and pushed forward, lazily swimming away from the shore.
“You do know they burn witches for less,” Salazar’s chuckle came to her ears and frightened her into standing in waist high water, her arms covering her breasts as her eyes sought him amongst the rushes.
“Turn around!” she snapped. “How dare you watch me?”
“How dare you strip down in front of me?” he laughed, putting one foot on a boulder that sat half in and half out of the water, leaning his arms on his knee and watching her.
Rowena sunk down until only her head and shoulders showed above the gentle ripples of the lake’s surface. Turning her back, she swam further from shore. He watched her figure through the crystal-clear water and sighed.
“Rowena, come to shore.” He picked up her clothes and walked close to the water, turning around and holding them up behind him. “As much as I enjoy the view, it is time you came out.”
“We should wait until Erwin is here before we have a meeting,” she said, walking out of the water and grabbing her skirt, stepping into it, and struggling to drop the robes over her wet body. “Shite!”
He chuckled and turned around to help pull the coarse fabric over her shoulders. “Witch, you are lucky it is me down here, because pregnant or not, another would not let you go so easily.”
“If it were another I would have hexed him at hello.”
“Godric? If you assure me you will hex him, I will send him next time.”
“Godric would have left without saying anything once he saw me. It is only you that is so rude.”
“Ah, so the problem is not in the looking but in the admitting to it.”
She looked at him oddly as a slow smile spread over her face. “Perhaps.”
“Now,” Salazar said seriously. “As much as I like looking at you, it is time we found the others.”
“I am pregnant, how fetching am I to look at?”
“Witches with chid are beautiful. Erwin is a fool to leave you this way. He should have stayed back just to watch you swim instead of leaving me the job,” he smirked.
“Yet you agreed he should go,” she pouted. “I wish we could wait for him to talk of this. Parts of this are his idea you know.”
“That may be, but he has no say here. You know that.”
“He is good enough to do your bidding but not good enough…”
“If there comes a time that your binding with him can be honoured, we will speak of it.” He frowned, picked up her shoes and slipped his hand under her elbow to help her back up the slope to the castle.
“It is honoured.” She yanked her arm from his. “He is your friend. How can you … Let it go, we will not get into this fight again, but remember he is a master in stone, and you know his plan is good, you know it will work.”
Rowena went ahead of Salazar, angry that he would hold her unorthodox binding with Erwin as reason for him not to have equal footing in their decisions. The five of them had walked from the south of the island to this cold and windswept place. The five of them had forsaken everything they had known, everything they had previously wanted to make the lonely trek north. Walking to this unknown place, with no idea of what would happen to them from day to day, not knowing what they would find at the end of their journey.
Erwin had been banished from his clan along with Rowena. Thrown out by his father for loving a witch given in marriage to a man she did not want. He had lost more than his inheritance, he had lost his right to live with the very clan that owned his soul and held his gods. He had lost more than the rest because what he lost still existed. Whereas that which the others had lost, had been taken from them by the men of Rome.
She looked up at the four towers that sat in the four corners of the plateau and could not help but smile, seeing their vision becoming a reality. Godric had first wanted a tower like the one in London, square and squat. A tower built for defence, one for each of them. He had thought it a grand place to pass on their skills, and teach the children of their scattered clans. It had been Rowena that had studied the stress on the stones, seeing the impossible heights the towers would reach, and calculating the weight on each wall. She had insisted and argued until they had curved the square angles and sharp corners to turn them into the graceful pillars they now called home.
As she climbed the stairs to Helga’s tower, Salazar pushed by her, and pulled the door open. “We will get nowhere like this, witch.”
“I know,” she sighed. “I am tired, hungry, my feet are swollen and I miss him.”
“All of which are your fault,” he scowled. “You do not take care of yourself, nor did you see fit to go with him to gather supplies as a proper wife would have, yet you expect me to honour your binding when you do not honour it yourself.”
“I know, I know,” she slapped his arm that blocked her way and walked into the tower. “Perhaps next year I will, but this time I would have slowed him.”
“Not to mention the work that still needs to be done,” Helga said, as she stood waiting for them just inside the door. “The noon day meal sits growing cold. Shall I bury it in the garden or do you plan on eating?”
“My sweet Helga,” Salazar greeted her with a low bow and a flourish of his arm. “Have I ever missed one of your delightful meals?”
“Yes,” she scowled, “Twice last week and once this.”
“No, those were not delightful meals. You cooked those meals for Godric’s amusement.”
Helga turned on her heel, muttering about ungrateful wizards, and led them to the kitchen. She put the platters of food on the wooden table, handing each a plate. “This is the end of the saffron. We can only hope Erwin manages to find some.”
“Or not,” Godric grinned, looking at Salazar.
Salazar reached his right hand to the platter of lamb, transferring some to his own plate with a sigh. “Perhaps you can plant some…”
“And perhaps you can change the soil and climate,” Helga spat. “It is enough that I got the ginger to grow, and those roses you insist on along the south wall, but I draw the line at the rest of it.”
“How is the jasmine…”
“Don’t start,” Helga turned and scowled at him. “I will make your tea the way you like, I will spice with saffron and anise, I will even risk stings to collect honey for your precious sweets, but I draw the line at forcing jasmine out of this land of rock and weed.”
“You will have to learn the taste of venison,” Godric said as he leaned forward to smell the food, wrinkling his nose at the grape leaves wrapped around minced lamb swimming in an unidentified sauce. “Is there not one simple dish you eat?”
“Roasted parsnips, onions, chunks of meat, rich gravy,” Rowena sighed. “Once we get the gardens in, and a herd of goats we can have fresh milk and butter. What I wouldn’t give for a slice of hot bread, slathered with butter, and chutney … if only we had chutney. Perhaps Erwin will have the funds for sugar.”
“We have much to do before the gardens can be put in, we have to finish the buildings for the students,” Helga levitated four glasses filled with rose flavoured tea and honey to the table, then grabbed the jug and joined them. “Of course if Erwin could smooth a millstone we may get enough wild grain for a loaf or two.”
“We need to finish the plans and connect the towers.” Godric spoke with his mouth full, reaching out for more lamb with his left hand and getting it slapped by Salazar.
“We keep them separate.” Salazar said slowly looking at Godric in distaste, knowing he only used the wrong hand as a barb to his customs. “I have reconsidered the new plans and think we have been hasty in the figures.”
“No, we have accommodated the heights of the towers, adding three levels to be harmonious with the cloisters,” Rowena said. “Without them Godric loses his courtyard for defence training.”
“She is correct, Salazar.” Godric nodded. “I will need to train with the sword in all weathers. I will not send a student out to battle that has never hoisted a blade in a storm, afraid his feet will slip from under him.”
“I think we should join the two towers on the side of the lake with a hall instead. I will not have time to transport all the food, run the kitchen, and hold lessons.” Helga pulled out a piece of parchment she and Erwin had worked on showing how it would fit into the towers. “See? We can use it for more than just meals. It will be a grand place for balls and …”
“We will not be holding grand balls.” Salazar yanked the parchment from Helga and spread it out in front of them on the table. “Look around and tell me where the stone is to come from.”
“From the same place as the stone we have already used,” Godric leaned back and studied Salazar. “I am sure there is more stone underground that you can have the elves cut, although why you do not send them into the mountain peak you will have to explain.”
“I do not explain myself, not to you and not to a couple of witches,” he hissed, standing up so quickly he toppled the bench. “I have had enough of this. If you insist on this frivolity, I will not be part of it. Take my Tower. I will have no use of a strong hold weakened by the need of balls and grand pretences. The students of my clan will be protected, if I have to protect them underground so be it.”
“We have been over this,” Rowena sighed. “There are only four of us, yet children of fourteen clans will come. You must accept more than just those of your clan.”
Silence descended over the kitchen as Salazar stomped out and up the stairs, slamming the door at the top of the steep passage. Helga stood and began clearing the table as Rowena pulled the parchment closer and began to figure the amount of stone they would need, her hands trembling as she fought back tears.
“That went well,” Godric muttered as he grabbed his tea before Helga took his glass away. “It’s good, just don’t tell Salazar I said so.”
“Arse,” Helga muttered. “So now what?”
“If he no longer keeps the tower for his students, we will have to add even more rooms,” Rowena sighed and looked again at the drawing, and wiping her sleeve over her eyes. “We could connect the other two towers, leaving the courtyard open only on two sides.”
“Determine the number of stones, and see if the foundation can hold it. Salazar must be undercutting the stone right beneath our feet. Since he seemed more upset over the amount of stone than the change of design, I suspect he has removed more than is evident.”
“He has brought up water from the springs to the kitchens,” Helga said, turning back to the table. “He must have cut through the stone to make way for the pipes. The spring is under his tower, the kitchen under mine.”
“And the courtyard in between,” Rowena chewed the end of her quill frowning at the parchment. “I will ask him. I need to know how much rock he is removing and from where to know if the ground can hold the weight of another wall being added.”
“Just leave his tower free of weight bearing walls. The rest should be fine.” Godric sipped his tea and looked up from under his brows at Rowena. “He will take his rooms underground in the space vacated by the removal of the stone you need. As he said, he will not use a tower unsecure onto itself. Once we join all four towers, and the students have access to each, he will move his students where they will not be easily found in case of attack. I have seen it done in the Slytherin village of his father. Leave him. If you push the issue he will … Rowena, this is difficult for him. He is not used to living with others. We should respect that.”
“I need to see what he is doing down there,” Rowena frowned. “Look at the numbers. He has more then just living quarters. The area he has removed stone from is immense. We have to insist the rest comes from the mountain peak. Helga? Could you check with the elves and make sure they can transport it this far?”
“Done.” Godric pulled the parchment from her and looked at the numbers she had jotted down. “I will tell him what you came up with and also tell him that nothing will add more weight to his tower.”
“You know I have not completed the inside staircase of his tower. If it is to reach to the top in one structure it will be quite heavy and push its weight down, stressing the east and west walls.”
“Then think of another way,” Godric frowned. “There are things he will not tell us, but we must allow for them.”
“Fine,” Rowena sighed. “Now that we have determined that Salazar is acting like the arse of a horse, we need to unpack the crates Issa sent.”
“Come,” Helga laughed. “You should see what she sent for my tower. I, that do not have beds for the students and own no furniture, now own carpets knotted in Persia and silver platters fit for a chief.”
“She thinks you are to do nothing but cook,” Rowena scowled. “I sometimes wonder if that is how Salazar sees it.”
“He is her son,” Godric laughed. “She is a good witch, Rowena. She is … old fashioned. She cannot think that a witch would be responsible for the children and find the time to give lessons to the children of others.”
“Let me guess,” Rowena said. “I should not be here, nor should I be in charge of young minds.”
“It is her way, Rowena, in Slytherin only wizards teach. No one here thinks that, and in this valley, at this school we will embrace new ways,” Helga said kindly. “Now come, we will see what the dark hearted witch sent Godric. She hates him the most you know, she blames him for taking away the love of her life, her sun, her joy and…”
“Do go on,” Salazar leaned against the doorway listening to Helga disparage his mother. “I am interested in your opinion of a witch that has sent you more wealth than you have seen in you lifetime. She does this to make up for what you see as my short comings you know.”
“She is your mother, for that she is welcome here,” Rowena grinned, seeing him fight not to grin. “Do tell us Salazar, what did you receive?”
Salazar fought a smile, his eyes seeking Rowena’s. “Tapestries better suited for a brothel. It would be helpful if you could charm them not to move. We can always say that Barnabas is teaching the fairies to … to dance.”
“Oh my gods,” Helga reddened. “Another one of those Greek things she keeps foisting on us?”
“She has wanted to be rid of them for years, but my father would not hear of it,” Salazar laughed. “Now she has a reason to pack them off to us. She said this one has driven her barmy for long enough.”
“Let’s see what Godric…” Helga stopped seeing him feign interest in the floor. “Again?”
“I sent her back.” He muttered as Salazar burst out laughing and Rowena chuckled.
“You should have kept her,” Salazar choked out. “This is the third witch she sent. She will soon think you like boys instead.”
“I do not need, nor want a wife.” Godric folded his arms and glared at all three.
“Did this one cook or just look good?” Helga asked innocently. “Godric, you should tell her what you are looking for in a wife. It’s not like you have any to choose from up here.”
“So, I am the only one that has not opened my surprise?” Rowena chuckled.
“No, the crates are supplies for the students. Your gift is on the top floor of your tower, and the same place my tapestry should hang.” Salazar smirked.
“The top?” She looked at Helga and grinned. “The new telescope? Perhaps, the one Erwin said could not be found? Come, hurry, I want to see.”
She took off out the front door, hurrying down the path to her own tower, looking over her shoulder to make sure they followed. “If we had these towers connected we could visit easier, and in the winter we…”
“Enough Rowena,” Salazar called to her. “Helga will get her bloody hall and your tower will be connected as well. Just promise you will not make anymore of your ridiculous stairs.”
“They are not ridiculous.” She opened the door and paused as the others came in and looked up at the shifting platforms. “See. I have more of the sun than your dark halls have, and less weight in the tower. I can see from floor to topmost ceiling.”
“It makes me sick.” Helga craned her neck up to see the top. “Why is your gift up there?”
“Salazar?” Rowena turned to him.
“Come on Helga,” Godric grabbed her arm and pulled her to the stairs. “I will take you and not let you fall, just don’t look down.”
Helga at once peered over the banister and back up to the top. “The students will kill themselves. Rowena, you’ll have to teach them to levitate first thing or you may as well just push them off the pass.”
“It is not that bad,” Rowena sniffed, walking up behind them, waiting for the shift of platforms then stepping to the next set of stairs. “I find them … peaceful and calming.”
“Calming she says,” Salazar said, taking the stairs two at a time in his effort to be quickly done with them. “If we ever need to get up in a hurry you will see how truly un-calming they can be.”
They reached the top level, and followed Salazar down the unfinished hallway, with rooms still standing bare and empty. Rowena had insisted on space enough for many more students than they knew they would gather in the first few years, hoping that soon it would be full. Now their footfalls echoed against the stone and announced their whereabouts to the tower.
“I put the tapestry up here,” Salazar said with a smirk. “Tell Issa I come here often and want to see it, to remind me of home.”
“Home? More like a Greek bordello,” Helga smirked. “Salazar, even not moving … look at it … those fairies are not leaping in joy.”
Rowena reddened and turned away. “This better be worth it,” she muttered.
“Issa said you are lonely.” Salazar sighed. “She said that a witch should bear her first child in her mother’s house with the elder witches of her clan. She cannot give you all that you need so she sends you this.”
He strode before the tapestry, turned and approached Rowena again, only to turn away and walk away.
“Look,” Helga pointed to the wall opposite the tapestry as a door appeared.
“Rowena, you must be the first one to enter.” Godric stood behind her, his arms around her waist, holding his hands over her stomach. “This child you carry will be the first one born in these walls. We all agreed that this is what you needed, and Issa made it possible. Now go inside.”
Rowena stepped to the door and reached for the handle, pushing the door open she peaked inside. Her hands covered her mouth and tears stung her eyes, blurring her vision and making it hard for her to see.
She ducked her head under the low lintel of her mother’s door, and once again stood in the thatched roof dwelling she had been born in. She turned and saw the bowl full of sacrificial herbs, picked up a handful and stepped to the central heath. Throwing them into the fire, she used her hands to pull the sweet spicy smoke to her face, closed her eyes and chanted her prayers to the dwellings gods. She watched as the smoke curled upwards, exiting through the hole cut in the middle of the ceiling, then fell on her knees, to the hard packed earthen floor and felt herself again as a girl at her father’s hearth.
“Salazar,” she choked out in a whisper. “I am home.” She looked up at him tearfully, scrubbing her hands over her eyes. “I thought to never see it again.”
He squatted in front of her and tipped up her chin. “Sleep here my little sister, until Erwin returns, sleep here. It will give you the peace you seek.”
As the summer days grew longer, and Erwin returned, they would walk the grounds, Rowena’s arm tucked into his. She would sit on the grassy slope as the elves levitated the great blocks, and under Erwin’s direction, they would place them one atop the other. She sat and watched as four towers became one grand castle and felt a swell of pride as the walls kept growing higher.
When her labour began, Issa came and had Erwin carry her up the stairs and pace until a small door opposite the now still picture of Barnabas appeared. He carried her in, and helped Helga undress her and sit her on the birthing chair. Then he, Godric and Salazar waited on the floor of the dark unused hallway until Helga came rushing out, a small screaming bundle in her arms.
“Who will say her name?” Helga held the small naked, still bloody and as of yet unclaimed child over her head. “Who will send her name to their gods?”
Erwin stood and held out his hands, taking the screaming infant and thrusting her up, as if showing her the sky.
“Helena,” he whispered and swallowed down his tears. “She will be Helena.”
Gift for: chimbomba
Author: firstyearagain
Characters: The Four Founders
Rating: G
Warnings: none
Genres: Friendship
Author's Notes: Chimbomba, I tried to fit in 5 of the seven prompt ideas. However, I must say when I first read, “Why on earth would Rowena want to become a mother?” I was going to just say, she enjoyed sex and the pill was not invented yet.
Summary: Salazar has a different idea of how Hogwarts should be built, and although he tires to acquiesce, he finds it difficult not to demand his way. His mother, Issa, sends gifts to keep the peace and to offer comfort.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Issa’s Gift
Rowena sat on the ground looking out to the lake and wondering how she would ever make it through the summer. She pulled her knees up and leaned forward, pulling off her shoes and then standing and walking to the shoreline. Once there, she hoisted up her skirts and began wading along the edge. The mud squished between her toes and she closed her eyes, remembering the pond of her youth and wanting again to be so young and able to strip off her clothes, sink under water, and feel the coolness envelope her body and wash over her.
Leaving the lake, she walked to the edge of the clearing and peaked back up at the towers. Seeing no one, she smiled and ran back to the water, pulling her robes over her head and dropping her underskirt to the ground. She sighed as she stepped naked into the water and sunk to her knees, cupping water in her hands and washing her face, letting the water run down her tender breasts and over her swollen stomach. She leaned forward, stretching her arms out ahead of her, and pushed forward, lazily swimming away from the shore.
“You do know they burn witches for less,” Salazar’s chuckle came to her ears and frightened her into standing in waist high water, her arms covering her breasts as her eyes sought him amongst the rushes.
“Turn around!” she snapped. “How dare you watch me?”
“How dare you strip down in front of me?” he laughed, putting one foot on a boulder that sat half in and half out of the water, leaning his arms on his knee and watching her.
Rowena sunk down until only her head and shoulders showed above the gentle ripples of the lake’s surface. Turning her back, she swam further from shore. He watched her figure through the crystal-clear water and sighed.
“Rowena, come to shore.” He picked up her clothes and walked close to the water, turning around and holding them up behind him. “As much as I enjoy the view, it is time you came out.”
“We should wait until Erwin is here before we have a meeting,” she said, walking out of the water and grabbing her skirt, stepping into it, and struggling to drop the robes over her wet body. “Shite!”
He chuckled and turned around to help pull the coarse fabric over her shoulders. “Witch, you are lucky it is me down here, because pregnant or not, another would not let you go so easily.”
“If it were another I would have hexed him at hello.”
“Godric? If you assure me you will hex him, I will send him next time.”
“Godric would have left without saying anything once he saw me. It is only you that is so rude.”
“Ah, so the problem is not in the looking but in the admitting to it.”
She looked at him oddly as a slow smile spread over her face. “Perhaps.”
“Now,” Salazar said seriously. “As much as I like looking at you, it is time we found the others.”
“I am pregnant, how fetching am I to look at?”
“Witches with chid are beautiful. Erwin is a fool to leave you this way. He should have stayed back just to watch you swim instead of leaving me the job,” he smirked.
“Yet you agreed he should go,” she pouted. “I wish we could wait for him to talk of this. Parts of this are his idea you know.”
“That may be, but he has no say here. You know that.”
“He is good enough to do your bidding but not good enough…”
“If there comes a time that your binding with him can be honoured, we will speak of it.” He frowned, picked up her shoes and slipped his hand under her elbow to help her back up the slope to the castle.
“It is honoured.” She yanked her arm from his. “He is your friend. How can you … Let it go, we will not get into this fight again, but remember he is a master in stone, and you know his plan is good, you know it will work.”
Rowena went ahead of Salazar, angry that he would hold her unorthodox binding with Erwin as reason for him not to have equal footing in their decisions. The five of them had walked from the south of the island to this cold and windswept place. The five of them had forsaken everything they had known, everything they had previously wanted to make the lonely trek north. Walking to this unknown place, with no idea of what would happen to them from day to day, not knowing what they would find at the end of their journey.
Erwin had been banished from his clan along with Rowena. Thrown out by his father for loving a witch given in marriage to a man she did not want. He had lost more than his inheritance, he had lost his right to live with the very clan that owned his soul and held his gods. He had lost more than the rest because what he lost still existed. Whereas that which the others had lost, had been taken from them by the men of Rome.
She looked up at the four towers that sat in the four corners of the plateau and could not help but smile, seeing their vision becoming a reality. Godric had first wanted a tower like the one in London, square and squat. A tower built for defence, one for each of them. He had thought it a grand place to pass on their skills, and teach the children of their scattered clans. It had been Rowena that had studied the stress on the stones, seeing the impossible heights the towers would reach, and calculating the weight on each wall. She had insisted and argued until they had curved the square angles and sharp corners to turn them into the graceful pillars they now called home.
As she climbed the stairs to Helga’s tower, Salazar pushed by her, and pulled the door open. “We will get nowhere like this, witch.”
“I know,” she sighed. “I am tired, hungry, my feet are swollen and I miss him.”
“All of which are your fault,” he scowled. “You do not take care of yourself, nor did you see fit to go with him to gather supplies as a proper wife would have, yet you expect me to honour your binding when you do not honour it yourself.”
“I know, I know,” she slapped his arm that blocked her way and walked into the tower. “Perhaps next year I will, but this time I would have slowed him.”
“Not to mention the work that still needs to be done,” Helga said, as she stood waiting for them just inside the door. “The noon day meal sits growing cold. Shall I bury it in the garden or do you plan on eating?”
“My sweet Helga,” Salazar greeted her with a low bow and a flourish of his arm. “Have I ever missed one of your delightful meals?”
“Yes,” she scowled, “Twice last week and once this.”
“No, those were not delightful meals. You cooked those meals for Godric’s amusement.”
Helga turned on her heel, muttering about ungrateful wizards, and led them to the kitchen. She put the platters of food on the wooden table, handing each a plate. “This is the end of the saffron. We can only hope Erwin manages to find some.”
“Or not,” Godric grinned, looking at Salazar.
Salazar reached his right hand to the platter of lamb, transferring some to his own plate with a sigh. “Perhaps you can plant some…”
“And perhaps you can change the soil and climate,” Helga spat. “It is enough that I got the ginger to grow, and those roses you insist on along the south wall, but I draw the line at the rest of it.”
“How is the jasmine…”
“Don’t start,” Helga turned and scowled at him. “I will make your tea the way you like, I will spice with saffron and anise, I will even risk stings to collect honey for your precious sweets, but I draw the line at forcing jasmine out of this land of rock and weed.”
“You will have to learn the taste of venison,” Godric said as he leaned forward to smell the food, wrinkling his nose at the grape leaves wrapped around minced lamb swimming in an unidentified sauce. “Is there not one simple dish you eat?”
“Roasted parsnips, onions, chunks of meat, rich gravy,” Rowena sighed. “Once we get the gardens in, and a herd of goats we can have fresh milk and butter. What I wouldn’t give for a slice of hot bread, slathered with butter, and chutney … if only we had chutney. Perhaps Erwin will have the funds for sugar.”
“We have much to do before the gardens can be put in, we have to finish the buildings for the students,” Helga levitated four glasses filled with rose flavoured tea and honey to the table, then grabbed the jug and joined them. “Of course if Erwin could smooth a millstone we may get enough wild grain for a loaf or two.”
“We need to finish the plans and connect the towers.” Godric spoke with his mouth full, reaching out for more lamb with his left hand and getting it slapped by Salazar.
“We keep them separate.” Salazar said slowly looking at Godric in distaste, knowing he only used the wrong hand as a barb to his customs. “I have reconsidered the new plans and think we have been hasty in the figures.”
“No, we have accommodated the heights of the towers, adding three levels to be harmonious with the cloisters,” Rowena said. “Without them Godric loses his courtyard for defence training.”
“She is correct, Salazar.” Godric nodded. “I will need to train with the sword in all weathers. I will not send a student out to battle that has never hoisted a blade in a storm, afraid his feet will slip from under him.”
“I think we should join the two towers on the side of the lake with a hall instead. I will not have time to transport all the food, run the kitchen, and hold lessons.” Helga pulled out a piece of parchment she and Erwin had worked on showing how it would fit into the towers. “See? We can use it for more than just meals. It will be a grand place for balls and …”
“We will not be holding grand balls.” Salazar yanked the parchment from Helga and spread it out in front of them on the table. “Look around and tell me where the stone is to come from.”
“From the same place as the stone we have already used,” Godric leaned back and studied Salazar. “I am sure there is more stone underground that you can have the elves cut, although why you do not send them into the mountain peak you will have to explain.”
“I do not explain myself, not to you and not to a couple of witches,” he hissed, standing up so quickly he toppled the bench. “I have had enough of this. If you insist on this frivolity, I will not be part of it. Take my Tower. I will have no use of a strong hold weakened by the need of balls and grand pretences. The students of my clan will be protected, if I have to protect them underground so be it.”
“We have been over this,” Rowena sighed. “There are only four of us, yet children of fourteen clans will come. You must accept more than just those of your clan.”
Silence descended over the kitchen as Salazar stomped out and up the stairs, slamming the door at the top of the steep passage. Helga stood and began clearing the table as Rowena pulled the parchment closer and began to figure the amount of stone they would need, her hands trembling as she fought back tears.
“That went well,” Godric muttered as he grabbed his tea before Helga took his glass away. “It’s good, just don’t tell Salazar I said so.”
“Arse,” Helga muttered. “So now what?”
“If he no longer keeps the tower for his students, we will have to add even more rooms,” Rowena sighed and looked again at the drawing, and wiping her sleeve over her eyes. “We could connect the other two towers, leaving the courtyard open only on two sides.”
“Determine the number of stones, and see if the foundation can hold it. Salazar must be undercutting the stone right beneath our feet. Since he seemed more upset over the amount of stone than the change of design, I suspect he has removed more than is evident.”
“He has brought up water from the springs to the kitchens,” Helga said, turning back to the table. “He must have cut through the stone to make way for the pipes. The spring is under his tower, the kitchen under mine.”
“And the courtyard in between,” Rowena chewed the end of her quill frowning at the parchment. “I will ask him. I need to know how much rock he is removing and from where to know if the ground can hold the weight of another wall being added.”
“Just leave his tower free of weight bearing walls. The rest should be fine.” Godric sipped his tea and looked up from under his brows at Rowena. “He will take his rooms underground in the space vacated by the removal of the stone you need. As he said, he will not use a tower unsecure onto itself. Once we join all four towers, and the students have access to each, he will move his students where they will not be easily found in case of attack. I have seen it done in the Slytherin village of his father. Leave him. If you push the issue he will … Rowena, this is difficult for him. He is not used to living with others. We should respect that.”
“I need to see what he is doing down there,” Rowena frowned. “Look at the numbers. He has more then just living quarters. The area he has removed stone from is immense. We have to insist the rest comes from the mountain peak. Helga? Could you check with the elves and make sure they can transport it this far?”
“Done.” Godric pulled the parchment from her and looked at the numbers she had jotted down. “I will tell him what you came up with and also tell him that nothing will add more weight to his tower.”
“You know I have not completed the inside staircase of his tower. If it is to reach to the top in one structure it will be quite heavy and push its weight down, stressing the east and west walls.”
“Then think of another way,” Godric frowned. “There are things he will not tell us, but we must allow for them.”
“Fine,” Rowena sighed. “Now that we have determined that Salazar is acting like the arse of a horse, we need to unpack the crates Issa sent.”
“Come,” Helga laughed. “You should see what she sent for my tower. I, that do not have beds for the students and own no furniture, now own carpets knotted in Persia and silver platters fit for a chief.”
“She thinks you are to do nothing but cook,” Rowena scowled. “I sometimes wonder if that is how Salazar sees it.”
“He is her son,” Godric laughed. “She is a good witch, Rowena. She is … old fashioned. She cannot think that a witch would be responsible for the children and find the time to give lessons to the children of others.”
“Let me guess,” Rowena said. “I should not be here, nor should I be in charge of young minds.”
“It is her way, Rowena, in Slytherin only wizards teach. No one here thinks that, and in this valley, at this school we will embrace new ways,” Helga said kindly. “Now come, we will see what the dark hearted witch sent Godric. She hates him the most you know, she blames him for taking away the love of her life, her sun, her joy and…”
“Do go on,” Salazar leaned against the doorway listening to Helga disparage his mother. “I am interested in your opinion of a witch that has sent you more wealth than you have seen in you lifetime. She does this to make up for what you see as my short comings you know.”
“She is your mother, for that she is welcome here,” Rowena grinned, seeing him fight not to grin. “Do tell us Salazar, what did you receive?”
Salazar fought a smile, his eyes seeking Rowena’s. “Tapestries better suited for a brothel. It would be helpful if you could charm them not to move. We can always say that Barnabas is teaching the fairies to … to dance.”
“Oh my gods,” Helga reddened. “Another one of those Greek things she keeps foisting on us?”
“She has wanted to be rid of them for years, but my father would not hear of it,” Salazar laughed. “Now she has a reason to pack them off to us. She said this one has driven her barmy for long enough.”
“Let’s see what Godric…” Helga stopped seeing him feign interest in the floor. “Again?”
“I sent her back.” He muttered as Salazar burst out laughing and Rowena chuckled.
“You should have kept her,” Salazar choked out. “This is the third witch she sent. She will soon think you like boys instead.”
“I do not need, nor want a wife.” Godric folded his arms and glared at all three.
“Did this one cook or just look good?” Helga asked innocently. “Godric, you should tell her what you are looking for in a wife. It’s not like you have any to choose from up here.”
“So, I am the only one that has not opened my surprise?” Rowena chuckled.
“No, the crates are supplies for the students. Your gift is on the top floor of your tower, and the same place my tapestry should hang.” Salazar smirked.
“The top?” She looked at Helga and grinned. “The new telescope? Perhaps, the one Erwin said could not be found? Come, hurry, I want to see.”
She took off out the front door, hurrying down the path to her own tower, looking over her shoulder to make sure they followed. “If we had these towers connected we could visit easier, and in the winter we…”
“Enough Rowena,” Salazar called to her. “Helga will get her bloody hall and your tower will be connected as well. Just promise you will not make anymore of your ridiculous stairs.”
“They are not ridiculous.” She opened the door and paused as the others came in and looked up at the shifting platforms. “See. I have more of the sun than your dark halls have, and less weight in the tower. I can see from floor to topmost ceiling.”
“It makes me sick.” Helga craned her neck up to see the top. “Why is your gift up there?”
“Salazar?” Rowena turned to him.
“Come on Helga,” Godric grabbed her arm and pulled her to the stairs. “I will take you and not let you fall, just don’t look down.”
Helga at once peered over the banister and back up to the top. “The students will kill themselves. Rowena, you’ll have to teach them to levitate first thing or you may as well just push them off the pass.”
“It is not that bad,” Rowena sniffed, walking up behind them, waiting for the shift of platforms then stepping to the next set of stairs. “I find them … peaceful and calming.”
“Calming she says,” Salazar said, taking the stairs two at a time in his effort to be quickly done with them. “If we ever need to get up in a hurry you will see how truly un-calming they can be.”
They reached the top level, and followed Salazar down the unfinished hallway, with rooms still standing bare and empty. Rowena had insisted on space enough for many more students than they knew they would gather in the first few years, hoping that soon it would be full. Now their footfalls echoed against the stone and announced their whereabouts to the tower.
“I put the tapestry up here,” Salazar said with a smirk. “Tell Issa I come here often and want to see it, to remind me of home.”
“Home? More like a Greek bordello,” Helga smirked. “Salazar, even not moving … look at it … those fairies are not leaping in joy.”
Rowena reddened and turned away. “This better be worth it,” she muttered.
“Issa said you are lonely.” Salazar sighed. “She said that a witch should bear her first child in her mother’s house with the elder witches of her clan. She cannot give you all that you need so she sends you this.”
He strode before the tapestry, turned and approached Rowena again, only to turn away and walk away.
“Look,” Helga pointed to the wall opposite the tapestry as a door appeared.
“Rowena, you must be the first one to enter.” Godric stood behind her, his arms around her waist, holding his hands over her stomach. “This child you carry will be the first one born in these walls. We all agreed that this is what you needed, and Issa made it possible. Now go inside.”
Rowena stepped to the door and reached for the handle, pushing the door open she peaked inside. Her hands covered her mouth and tears stung her eyes, blurring her vision and making it hard for her to see.
She ducked her head under the low lintel of her mother’s door, and once again stood in the thatched roof dwelling she had been born in. She turned and saw the bowl full of sacrificial herbs, picked up a handful and stepped to the central heath. Throwing them into the fire, she used her hands to pull the sweet spicy smoke to her face, closed her eyes and chanted her prayers to the dwellings gods. She watched as the smoke curled upwards, exiting through the hole cut in the middle of the ceiling, then fell on her knees, to the hard packed earthen floor and felt herself again as a girl at her father’s hearth.
“Salazar,” she choked out in a whisper. “I am home.” She looked up at him tearfully, scrubbing her hands over her eyes. “I thought to never see it again.”
He squatted in front of her and tipped up her chin. “Sleep here my little sister, until Erwin returns, sleep here. It will give you the peace you seek.”
As the summer days grew longer, and Erwin returned, they would walk the grounds, Rowena’s arm tucked into his. She would sit on the grassy slope as the elves levitated the great blocks, and under Erwin’s direction, they would place them one atop the other. She sat and watched as four towers became one grand castle and felt a swell of pride as the walls kept growing higher.
When her labour began, Issa came and had Erwin carry her up the stairs and pace until a small door opposite the now still picture of Barnabas appeared. He carried her in, and helped Helga undress her and sit her on the birthing chair. Then he, Godric and Salazar waited on the floor of the dark unused hallway until Helga came rushing out, a small screaming bundle in her arms.
“Who will say her name?” Helga held the small naked, still bloody and as of yet unclaimed child over her head. “Who will send her name to their gods?”
Erwin stood and held out his hands, taking the screaming infant and thrusting her up, as if showing her the sky.
“Helena,” he whispered and swallowed down his tears. “She will be Helena.”