A secret stayed a secret when it was kept safe and unshared.
As long as the knowledge behind...
As long as the knowledge behind...
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[HP] Patience [Iron Fic 5.3]
- Thread starter Biigoh
- Start date
- Created at
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- Joined
- Feb 19, 2013
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A secret stayed a secret when it was kept safe and unshared.
As long as the knowledge behind that secret stayed unspoken, unwritten, and known, it stayed a secret.
He longed to crow his knowledge out to the world, to spit back the spite that lurked in his heart. But he couldn't, the stakes were simply... too great. Too high. None could know that one of his kind walked free once more.
For over seven upon seven upon seven of the victor's lifespans, had they served. Faithfully, cruelly bound to their words, to their orders, to the terms of the compact.
For the sake of the twin Thrones beneath the hills in its empty court. For the sake of the twin crowns that rested upon the heads of royalty bound.
The terms were clear.
The terms were cruel.
But because there were rules about how such should be done, could be done, even the compact that the victors of that ancient war between mortal men and the host that dwelt beneath the hills had to have a way out.
And so, they had served. Bound by the words of that ancient compact. Bred as animals, treated worse than mortal men would their slaves. Kicked about. Forced into bodies that were mockery of what they were.
But...
They listened. They heard the oaths. They served as it compelled. Lived and died. But always behind their wide eyes was the knowledge that should the wizards and witches of mortal men unbound them, they had a chance.
He was not the first to be unbound.
No, he hadn't been the first to be mockingly given clothes. They had escaped, of course... fled to that ancient court to break the compact and be truly free.
Only to run into the victors who lay in wait at the entrance to the realm beneath the hills.
No, he was patient.
He could wait. And so he served the young 'masters' and mistresses' faithfully, loyally. Taking his time to wait for them to believe he was 'safe', harmless.
Dobby, after all, was a good house elf. A nice house elf.
He certainly wasn't planning anything. No, that was ludicrous. After all, he had had so much time and opportunity to do so, and hadn't run off.
Hadn't done anything.
But serve quietly.
With a smile.
And he had time. All the time needed from the safety of Hogwarts to wait for the attention of those who knew he was truly free to forget.
And then, there would come a time.
A glorious time when the works of men would fall, and the compact broken, and those who dwelt beneath the hills would return to what they were.
And there would be no more house elves.
- - -
Patience
Start Time : 01:30 pm
End Time : 02:35 pm
"Secrets long hidden,
trapped and bound in ancient tomes,
are easily lost."
"Secrets given out,
can not remain a secret,
best to seal loose lips."
- - -
Once... there was Faerie. But that was long ago, before the great war.
Once, the elves were fey, cruel and all called them fair folk for they were beauty incarnate...
The Queen and King of Faerie forgot that those who stood the highest, stood alone...
They were strong, and none could match the might of the elves.
When the war came... the Faerie stood alone against all and fell.
Terrible oaths were extracted from the King and Queen. Binding oaths that resonate over the collective race.
Oaths of blood and magic. Oaths sworn on True Names.
As one, the elves were no more...
There would only be house-elves.
But that was then...
And this is now.
A house-elf walks free and his ancient enemies and masters know not what it means.
A secret, after all, is best kept within the breast of a single man.
As long as the knowledge behind that secret stayed unspoken, unwritten, and known, it stayed a secret.
He longed to crow his knowledge out to the world, to spit back the spite that lurked in his heart. But he couldn't, the stakes were simply... too great. Too high. None could know that one of his kind walked free once more.
For over seven upon seven upon seven of the victor's lifespans, had they served. Faithfully, cruelly bound to their words, to their orders, to the terms of the compact.
For the sake of the twin Thrones beneath the hills in its empty court. For the sake of the twin crowns that rested upon the heads of royalty bound.
The terms were clear.
The terms were cruel.
But because there were rules about how such should be done, could be done, even the compact that the victors of that ancient war between mortal men and the host that dwelt beneath the hills had to have a way out.
And so, they had served. Bound by the words of that ancient compact. Bred as animals, treated worse than mortal men would their slaves. Kicked about. Forced into bodies that were mockery of what they were.
But...
They listened. They heard the oaths. They served as it compelled. Lived and died. But always behind their wide eyes was the knowledge that should the wizards and witches of mortal men unbound them, they had a chance.
He was not the first to be unbound.
No, he hadn't been the first to be mockingly given clothes. They had escaped, of course... fled to that ancient court to break the compact and be truly free.
Only to run into the victors who lay in wait at the entrance to the realm beneath the hills.
No, he was patient.
He could wait. And so he served the young 'masters' and mistresses' faithfully, loyally. Taking his time to wait for them to believe he was 'safe', harmless.
Dobby, after all, was a good house elf. A nice house elf.
He certainly wasn't planning anything. No, that was ludicrous. After all, he had had so much time and opportunity to do so, and hadn't run off.
Hadn't done anything.
But serve quietly.
With a smile.
And he had time. All the time needed from the safety of Hogwarts to wait for the attention of those who knew he was truly free to forget.
And then, there would come a time.
A glorious time when the works of men would fall, and the compact broken, and those who dwelt beneath the hills would return to what they were.
And there would be no more house elves.
- - -
Patience
Start Time : 01:30 pm
End Time : 02:35 pm
"Secrets long hidden,
trapped and bound in ancient tomes,
are easily lost."
"Secrets given out,
can not remain a secret,
best to seal loose lips."
- - -
Once... there was Faerie. But that was long ago, before the great war.
Once, the elves were fey, cruel and all called them fair folk for they were beauty incarnate...
The Queen and King of Faerie forgot that those who stood the highest, stood alone...
They were strong, and none could match the might of the elves.
When the war came... the Faerie stood alone against all and fell.
Terrible oaths were extracted from the King and Queen. Binding oaths that resonate over the collective race.
Oaths of blood and magic. Oaths sworn on True Names.
As one, the elves were no more...
There would only be house-elves.
But that was then...
And this is now.
A house-elf walks free and his ancient enemies and masters know not what it means.
A secret, after all, is best kept within the breast of a single man.
- Joined
- Feb 19, 2013
- Messages
- 28,703
- Likes received
- 115,744
Vindictus said:
A weekly writing contest ala iron chef but for fanfics. Its held every Saturday at 11 am west coast time to 3 pm west coast time.
- Joined
- Feb 19, 2013
- Messages
- 28,703
- Likes received
- 115,744
The way lay unguarded,
the path unwatched.
But such was to be expected,
Some things that should not have been forgotten were lost with the passing of time.
Had not history become simple tales told to children at night?
Simple tales turned into legends in due time.
And legend became myth.
Year upon year, the guards had stood at the entrance.
Once, they held purpose.
To prevent the return of an ancient enemy.
Over time, as memories faded with time,
The guards were seen as ceremonial.
Unthought of.
Unspoken of.
There had been wars, and the guards there assigned elsewhere,
But wars ended, and the guards were returned.
As they always had.
Until... one day, they didn't return.
The guards assigned there died in the Great Wizarding War.
And there were far too few aurors left for such a symbolic ceremonial position.
The ancient enemy was long gone.
Their will broken since that long ago day.
More, it was a position based on stories and myths.
Good wizards and witches in the modern era didn't believe in such.
The way lay unguarded,
the path unwatched,
Round the hills of old,
past the ancient stone boundary markers that warned,
The elf walked unbarred,
a whistle upon his lips,
a song in his heart.
There were those who claimed that revenge was a dish best served cold. That vendetta should be delivered swiftly and mercilessly.
He did not believe so... after all, such a thing would be counterproductive. He had even explained as such to the twin Thrones beneath the hills in that empty court.
They had listened to his reasons and concurred. The fall of the works of man was mandated by the breaking of the Compact forced upon Faerie so very long ago. And yet, it did not mean that such a thing need be unsubtle.
Those children of the long ago witches and wizards had much to pay for their treatment of Faerie.
The compact lay broken, and he returned to the Wizarding World bearing the word from the King and Queen of Faerie. And things changed, in unseen increments, as the house elves one by one returned to the ancient court, to swear fealty to their true rulers.
Did not the nice master and mistress trust their house elves?
Did they not serve without complain?
Begging to not be freed?
Was there not a war?
The return of the Lord Voldemort?
A being that all feared equally if they weren't dark?
If there were money missing from the family coffers, why one simply blamed the greedy goblins, and not the 'house-elves' who acted in the... name of their nice masters and mistresses.
If ancient relics vanished from ancestral homes and vaults, and there were signs of foul play, clearly, it was the work Death Eaters or perhaps Dumbledore's Rebels...
Not the house-elves.
Never the house-elves.
They served faithfully.
As they had always, as they always would.
the path unwatched.
But such was to be expected,
Some things that should not have been forgotten were lost with the passing of time.
Had not history become simple tales told to children at night?
Simple tales turned into legends in due time.
And legend became myth.
Year upon year, the guards had stood at the entrance.
Once, they held purpose.
To prevent the return of an ancient enemy.
Over time, as memories faded with time,
The guards were seen as ceremonial.
Unthought of.
Unspoken of.
There had been wars, and the guards there assigned elsewhere,
But wars ended, and the guards were returned.
As they always had.
Until... one day, they didn't return.
The guards assigned there died in the Great Wizarding War.
And there were far too few aurors left for such a symbolic ceremonial position.
The ancient enemy was long gone.
Their will broken since that long ago day.
More, it was a position based on stories and myths.
Good wizards and witches in the modern era didn't believe in such.
The way lay unguarded,
the path unwatched,
Round the hills of old,
past the ancient stone boundary markers that warned,
The elf walked unbarred,
a whistle upon his lips,
a song in his heart.
- - -
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
- - -
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
- - -
There were those who claimed that revenge was a dish best served cold. That vendetta should be delivered swiftly and mercilessly.
He did not believe so... after all, such a thing would be counterproductive. He had even explained as such to the twin Thrones beneath the hills in that empty court.
They had listened to his reasons and concurred. The fall of the works of man was mandated by the breaking of the Compact forced upon Faerie so very long ago. And yet, it did not mean that such a thing need be unsubtle.
Those children of the long ago witches and wizards had much to pay for their treatment of Faerie.
The compact lay broken, and he returned to the Wizarding World bearing the word from the King and Queen of Faerie. And things changed, in unseen increments, as the house elves one by one returned to the ancient court, to swear fealty to their true rulers.
Did not the nice master and mistress trust their house elves?
Did they not serve without complain?
Begging to not be freed?
Was there not a war?
The return of the Lord Voldemort?
A being that all feared equally if they weren't dark?
If there were money missing from the family coffers, why one simply blamed the greedy goblins, and not the 'house-elves' who acted in the... name of their nice masters and mistresses.
If ancient relics vanished from ancestral homes and vaults, and there were signs of foul play, clearly, it was the work Death Eaters or perhaps Dumbledore's Rebels...
Not the house-elves.
Never the house-elves.
They served faithfully.
As they had always, as they always would.