Chapter Twelve

Navan Fort, Northern Ireland

WANDA

Navan Fort was not so much a fort as it was a tourist attraction; there was a museum that chronicled local history and Celtic tradition, and a mock ancient home where costumed guides would usually demonstrate ancient fighting and cooking and share very old stories. Because it was a Sunday afternoon, it all sat empty. Behind those places, off a small access road, was a hill that was almost exactly round, which overlooked kilometers of field in every direction. If you looked the right way, you could see Armagh's twinned Cathedrals as miniatures in the distance.

"Good spot," Natasha said. "We'll definitely see them coming." She flipped open her phone and snaked down the hill while reporting their status to Steve.

Vision stayed next to Wanda, tracing the horizon. "Beautiful up here," he said.

Wanda looked at Vision. She said, "It is." She was tired – the same kind of tired she had felt after she lost her brother. Tired of fighting. Tired of worrying. She should be at the observatory watching Vision count paces between scaled metal planets, or in the Irish and Local Studies library listening to the fan-like whir of his impossibly fast reading, or curled in bed tracing the lines of his face. Or, they should be back at the Avengers Compound, with Tony and Rhodes and Natasha and Steve and Sam and Clint, half-arguing and half laughing, eating Chinese takeout, and telling stories. They should be anywhere but on this darkening hill, waiting for a fight to come to them.

Vision said, "It's called Emain Macha."

"What?"

"This place," he said.

"I thought it was Navan Fort."

"That's the new name. The old name is Eamhain Mhacha, often translated as 'Macha's Twins.' We are standing on what is likely an ancient temple built in the goddess' honor."

"She had twins?" Wanda asked.

"Yes, according to some stories. Is it said that a local man saw Macha running in the forest, and was so taken by her beauty and her speed that he begged her to marry him. She did, and soon she was pregnant. She warned the man that she would only stay with him if he told no one about her. But, when the king had a festival, the man became drunk and boasted that his wife could outrun the king's prized white horses. The king took the man's assertion as a challenge, and ordered him until he could make good on his claim. Pregnant, Macha came and raced the horses. She won, then screamed out in pain and gave birth to twins on the finish line. Then she cursed the men of Ulster to be overcome with weakness in their hours of greatest need. That's one version of the story, anyway."

"Were people afraid when she cursed them?" Wanda asked.

"I don't know," Vision said.

"Hmm," Wanda said. "I like her."

"I thought you might."

Natasha returned as the evening light was fading to a cool blue. "Steve and Sam aren't going to make it here. They're holding a big part of the General's Forces in Belfast, but they think about fifty people are headed our way."

Vision's phone lit up in his pocket. "Rhodes," he said. "I'll let it go to voicemail."

"He's probably on his way to Belfast to clean up another mess," Natasha said. "Steve and Sam could use his help. Will he play nice?"

"I believe he will," Vision said. "He wants this violence ended, as you do."

"They're coming," Wanda said suddenly. Vision looked around. Even with his impressive eyesight, it seemed he couldn't see them yet. Wanda couldn't see them either, but she could hear them. Their thoughts echoed across the farmland. They were so all so twisted up with anger and hatred, and all of it was directed at Wanda and the people she loved most.

"They're in the city," Wanda said. "Can you lead them here?"

Vision nodded and shot into the sky. Wanda watched him fade to a pinpoint before he descended into the city, then rose again a moment later.

"You don't have to stay," Wanda said to Natasha. "It's Vision and me that they're after."

"Oh they don't like me either," Natasha said. "And I don't like missing a good fight. I'm not going anywhere."

Vision returned a moment later.

"Are you sure they saw you?" Natasha asked.

"Most definitely."

"And could they follow you?"

Vision tilted his head up and shot a beam of light into the sky, a beacon for the horde headed their way.

"Okay, that'll do it," Natasha said.

They waited, but not long. The general came to the foot of the hill first. She stared up at Wanda in the almost-darkness and scowled. She was almost as young as Wanda. In the woman, Wanda saw herself hating herself, and she couldn't help but shout down to her, "Why?"

"Because you shouldn't exist," the General said.

"But I do," Wanda said.

"You are an affront to humankind."

"I'm just the same as you."

The twinge of a smile played on the General's face. Suddenly, Natasha shoved Wanda sideways, out of the way of an arrow flying up the back of the hill. While they had been looking east, the General's forces amassed to the west. Four dozen people charged up the hill, abandoning what had temporarily been stealth. Vision swooped down into the mass, knocking over people as he went. Wanda threw a few backwards with her powers, and Natasha charged into the group, twisting and hitting her way through the crowd.

"Abomination!" the General snarled. Wanda had not seen her sneak up the hill, and now she was just steps away. She grabbed Wanda from behind and tried to land a knife on her neck, but Wanda froze it there. The General's arm shuttered in place as they wrestled – her strength against Wanda's power.

"You enhanced will tear humanity apart. You do it as easily as I breath," the General shouted.

"We don't want to hurt anyone," Wanda said.

"Then what do you call this?"

Wanda looked over the hill. Vision had blasted several holes in this ancient sacred place. Two dozen people were on the ground, moaning, twitching, screaming. Some of them did not move at all. "You're right," Wanda said. "This isn't the answer." She relinquished her hold on the knife, but caught the General's hand before she could make a fatal cut. The blade just nicked Wanda's neck. She called Vision's name, and he came.

"Let her go," Vision said to the general. "I don't want to kill you, but if you hurt her…"

"It's okay, Vis," Wanda said. "I just wanted you to stop fighting."

"Wanda," he said. She loved the way he said her name.

Her hands were not free, so she could not be directional in what she did next. She shot it out over the whole hill in an auburn swirl. She trickled into the minds of fifty-some people and they all stopped, dazed.

"What are doing?" The General snarled. "Get out of my head."

"I just want to show you something," Wanda said. "I promise it won't hurt you."

A memory blinked into focus: Vision, the very first time he looked at Wanda and challenged her to search his head for any sign of destruction. And she found no such thing there, just hope, wisdom and kindness still being born. Then he was there, sitting on her bed, watching sitcoms with her in her darkest hour. He waded through her grief. He laughed, and the whole room lightened. He was never afraid of her.

Next, a civil war tore the Avengers apart. It was "us" or "them" – but hadn't they all just been a family? No one was right, really, and no one was entirely wrong. An image of the two churches on the hills slipped into the montage – an errant thought that Wanda couldn't entirely avoid. Like two lovers, separated by a fight. A city divided – by what? Details. Just little details.

Cork. Wanda was so hopelessly alone, until she caught Vision's silhouette at that theatre. When she realized he had come simply because he wanted to see her, her closed world opened back up.

Paris. She was terrified of that man who shot at her in Notre Dame square. But Vision was right there. He didn't let anything hurt her. And he wanted to kiss her. She had wanted to kiss him even before that, but she wasn't brave enough to say it.

And the rest: falling in love over and over again, finding themselves in different places, realizing at last that if you really know someone – know them for all their faults, in their best and worst moments, know their story – you have to love them.

The General seemingly had not noticed her grip on Wanda's neck slipping. Wanda sild out from under her knife took one measured step back. "There," she said. "Now you know me."

"Doesn't change anything," the General said.

"I think it does," Wanda said. The General and her army had felt every single thing that Wanda felt. Her pain, her isolation, her hope, her love. Friendship, fear, the weight of the world. They had lived her life like one long breath.

The General shook her head. She was crying. Natasha was crying, too. Wanda glanced her way and Nat said, "Shut up," as she wiped one errant tear.

A woman with corkscrew hair and a Northern Irish accent tip-toed up to Wanda. Her chin was on the verge of turning into a nasty bruise; she had been mowed down by Vision in his initial swoop. She looked Wanda in the eye and asked, "Do you swear that from this day forth, you will do your best to do no harm?"

"Yes," Wanda said.

The woman nodded. She walked down the hill, and kept walking, off into the wandering dark. There was a pause, then a dozen people followed – they trapsed back to the road, to their cars, to their lives, wrapped in a tangle of thoughts.

Natasha helped up several people who she had earlier knocked down. Wanda saw one man shake her hand. He hobbled away, too. More left. Some stayed, caught in a moment of indecision. They still felt vehemently that enhanced should be destroyed, but they also saw their support dwindling. They were members a of a swiftly shrinking club. Most of these people eventually left as well.

The General continued to stare at Wanda as Vision hoovered just over her shoulder.

Wanda asked, "What is your name?"

The General said, "Why does it matter?"

"I'd like to know you too," Wanda said.

"Why don't you just rip through my head? Steal my thoughts?"

"I'm not going to take anything from you that you're not willing to give," Wanda said. "I just thought it would be nice to know your name."

The General just shook her head and walked back down the hill.

"Should we go after her?" Natasha asked.

"No," Wanda said. "I don't think she'll be a problem anymore."

The jet swooped into view, and Redwing spun out of the bay. "Damn, what did you guys do?" Sam asked.

"I told them a story," Wanda said.

"That must be some story," Sam said. "You're going to have to tell it to me later. But right now –"

"Yeah," Natasha said, "We know."

The jet dropped lower and settled at the foot of the hill. Natasha made it halfway down before realizing that Wanda was not behind her. "You coming?"

"Give me a minute," Wanda said.

"Sure."

Vision landed next to Wanda and took her hands. He said, "Wanda – I – what you showed them – it – I mean, we –"

She stretched up and kissed him, and held on as long as she could.

"You really feel that way?" he asked.

"I do," she said.

"Me too," he said.

When she let go of him, it felt like falling – falling into herself, into a dream, into life itself.

"See you soon."