The Hunters and the Prey - Chapter Twenty-One
Author: Milady Dragon
Clint watched as Phil paced about the seated Winter Knight, his eyes black with Void, muttering under his breath as he magically examined the formerly brainwashed man, especially that arm that just looked wrong to the Elf. He didn't have magic and it felt that way, so he could only imagine what Phil thought about the thing.
His lover had also recognized the man as Sir James Barnes, childhood friend of the Paladin of the Western Lands. However, Phil hadn't let his confusion – and excitement; after all, this was Sir James, and Sir Steven was currently sleeping at Ferrous Castle, because this couldn't at all be a coincidence – get the better of him, so when Jack had asked him to check out the silent man, the Void Wizard had readily agreed.
They'd taken the examination down to Ianto's casting chamber. Jack had deemed it the safest place for them to do whatever magic Phil had to do in order to ascertain that the Winter Knight wasn't so dangerous anymore. They couldn't risk the man getting out once more, and if Phil did something to trigger some sort of episode…this was the best place for any sort of examination.
Jack would be the one explaining to Ianto if things got out of hand and his casting chamber was wrecked in the process. Clint didn't envy the man one bit if that did happen.
Phil had pulled a chair up for Sir James to sit in, and the man had done so easily. The Wizard had then directed everyone else to stand away, and had gotten started, Lola prowling along at her Wizard's side, but she wasn't growling or hissing or anything like that…not yet, at least. So far, it was a good sign.
Phil's wand was out, but at that moment he wasn't using it, only whatever magical sight he had, so Clint was thinking this was also a good sign. The aura of power about the Wizard was filling the chamber, making the hairs on the Elf's arms stand up.
Clint was just a little bit turned on by the display.
Of course, Natasha noticed, judging by the tiny smirk on her lips.
Damnit, Natasha.
He hadn't seen her in days. And now, she was leaning against the wall next to him, looking calm and cool and not at all like she'd been tracking Hydra for days on end.
It wasn't fair, really.
To be an asshole, he murmured, "I didn't notice any bruises, so I take it you didn't hit him."
"Not yet, anyway." Anyone who didn't know her, wouldn't have heard the humor in her words. "And I notice that you kissed him."
Clint rolled his eyes fondly at her. "Well, it was about time."
Natasha didn't answer that, but the Elf could practically smell her approval.
Daisy sidled up to his other side, her own eyes watching her Dad as he worked. Jack was standing close by, still wearing his armor, but Clint didn't think he was about to attack even if he was prepared for that happening. He'd been shaken by the fact that the Winter Knight was actually a Hero of the Century War, and Sir Steven Rogers' best friend to boot, and who could blame him? Clint had felt the same way.
Although, they did know how Sir James had survived so long. It was the box that was in the room beyond this one, the co-called Zero Cabinet, and wasn't that a nasty artifact? Who would deliberately put someone inside that thing? Knowing that whoever came out would be unchanged, no matter how many centuries they'd been trapped inside? It was horrific.
Oh, yeah. Hydra. Fuck 'em.
Plus, Hydra had messed with the guy's head. Sir James couldn't really remember who he was, or how he'd survived the fall that history had claimed had killed him. How his best friend had thought him dead before going into his own final battle.
Clint didn't want to feel sorry for the Winter Knight. That bastard had beaten the crap out of the archer in a completely unfair fight. He'd touched Daisy, who hadn't deserved being kidnapped and used to coerce her father into serving Hydra…until Phil had actually died, and then there'd been no telling what would have happened to her then if Phil hadn't come back.
But, he certainly felt bad for Sir James Barnes.
That didn't mean he didn't have his bow in one hand, arrow in the other, ready to shoot if things became chaotic.
"What if Dad can't help him?" Daisy asked quietly.
"He'll do the best he can." Of that, Clint had no doubt. Whether it would work or not was still up for debate.
"I just…" the young woman sounded a little frustrated. "The first time I saw him, his eyes were just so dead. I feel a little guilty thinking what I thought of him, knowing now that it wasn't his fault."
"You have nothing to feel guilty about," Clint reassured her. "There was no possible way for any of us to have figured out what was going on with him. Hydra's to blame in all this." Hydra sucked, and he couldn't wait until it had been wiped out. None of them would be really safe until that happened.
"And it's alright to still be frightened of him," Natasha added. "So don't feel bad about that, either."
Trust Natasha to have caught that. Clint might be able to see better at a distance, but in this case it was a little too close for comfort.
Daisy glanced at them both gratefully. Clint couldn't help but revel somewhat in the warmth that her gratitude built in his chest. It meant a lot to him that Phil's kid had just confided in him, and had come to him – and Nat, sure – for some sort of validation of how she was feeling. He might have been shit at emotions, but the archer thought, in this case, he'd gotten it right.
They went back to watching Phil. The black was still swirling about in his eyes, but now he held the man's magical arm in his hand, the other – wand now put away – hovering over it, tendrils of dark smoke weaving from his fingers and over the metal of that artificial arm. Clint could sense the magicks that made that arm possible, even if he had no idea how to identify the spells, and he leaned over to ask Daisy if she could see anything.
The young Wizard's eyes flashed gold for a second, and she frowned. "It's definitely cursed, but I can't tell what sort of curse it is. Dad will be able to, and Ianto definitely could, since he's so good at unraveling that sort of thing."
Clint remembered how Ianto had picked apart the curse that had been affecting Andrew Garner, and had to agree that he was, indeed, really very good at unraveling curses.
"There's still a lot of Void in him," Daisy went on.
"Well, he had been exposed to it for quite a while," the Elf said.
She nodded. "And the power of that Void Point there at that mansion was obviously used to make him the way he was. Dad's gonna be a bit in fixing it…if he can."
Clint could understand her uncertainty, but Phil was really strong. If anyone would be able to figure it out, it was him; and if he needed help, the archer was sure that Ianto would be able to step in. Together, the pair of Wizards would be able to work things out in the end.
And, if not…there was still the arrow Clint had kept a hold of. He'd hate to use it, but if that was the only response that could be made, then he'd be the one to make it. He didn't want this sort of death on Phil's conscience.
His instincts told him that Jack would be right beside him, looking out for Ianto's conscience as well.
"Have we missed anything?"
Clint didn't jump at Ianto's voice, which seemed to have come from just behind his shoulder, when in fact the door was several paces away. Ianto and Stephen had come home at some point; the Elf was a little embarrassed that he hadn't noticed the two Grand Masters arriving. But then, he'd been completely focused on Phil and what he was doing, so thought he could be excused.
"Nothing really yet," Phil answered. Clint turned his attention toward his lover, who'd stepped away from the Winter Knight, his eyes blue again and any outward sign of his having just used his magic gone. He shook his head, not looking at all happy.
"I take it," Grand Master Stephen said, "that this is the infamous Winter Knight."
"He's also Sir James Barnes," Jack introduced, "Sir Steven Rogers' companion in arms."
The Great Wizard raised a single eyebrow. "That…is a surprise."
"They seemed to know who I am," the Winter Knight spoke up. His voice was gravelly and pitched low, as if he just didn't speak all that much, which Clint figured was pretty close to the truth. "I…came with them, because I need to know about myself."
"We'll do our best," Jack assured the man. His eyes glanced toward Phil. "What can you tell us?"
The Void Wizard sighed. "It's not good."
"I don't think anyone of us thought it would be."
Phil nodded in agreement. "First of all, Hydra was using their tainted Void Point to reinforce every single curse that Sir James has had inflicted upon him."
"Which was why he escaped once that power was gone," Ianto surmised.
"I…" the fallen knight stammered, "all I knew was, I could suddenly think, and I had to get away before that changed."
"Once the power that was fueling those curses was gone, a couple of them faded rather quickly." Phil was pensive. "Many of those curses are old. And I don't mean just because it's been so long since Sir James had been cursed. I don't know if we'll ever know the source of the magic behind some of the actual spells, since they were cast back when magic wasn't readily available, but I think we need to assume it was some sort of artifact."
Clint could practically hear what Phil didn't say…it was probably the same artifact that had most likely exiled Sir Steven to the Void. History claimed that the Skull had gained some sort of very powerful magical item, and that seemed to be the source of everything that had been done to both men.
"What curses can you read?" Ianto inquired.
"Amnesia and Suppression. Obedience. A particularly nasty geas. There are also parts of some sort of Berserker magic that I've never seen before, almost like Bloodlust, only vaguely different. And that's not what's included on the arm."
Clint couldn't help the whistle that escaped.
Phil gave him a wan smile. "That's about the same reaction I had, only without the sound."
Ianto stepped forward, his eyes changing into the black and gold ellipses that heralded his own magic. Then he blinked, and his eyes were back to being blue once more. "Yes, that Berserker magic is odd. I'll need to consult some of the older records to see if I can find its like, the better to counteract it."
"What about the arm?" Natasha spoke up.
"That…" Phil shook his head. "The arm itself is a magical artifact of very great age. I wouldn't hesitate to say at least two thousand years old."
"That ancient?" It was Grand Master Stephen's turn to step up and his own eyes flashed with his magic as he took in the arm that was resting at the Winter Knight's side. His fingers twitched in a pattern that Clint couldn't read and, to his surprise, Agamotto – who had been twined over the Great Wizard's shoulders – shivered and began to glow very faintly, as if his scales were being lit from within, their emerald color going translucent.
"Your estimate of age is a little off," Stephen murmured. "I think we need to add another thousand years to that."
Now, it was Jack's turn to whistle. "Will any sort of record of it be in the Archive somewhere?"
"May be," Ianto answered. "Sounds like I'm going to have a day ahead of me searching the old records."
"Let us do that," Daisy spoke up. "Me and my friends. We've been looking for something to do, and we can do this. That way you're all freed up to handle Hydra and the Quorum."
The Cardinal Wizard gave her a smile. "Thank you, Daisy. That would be ideal. Remind me to lend you my translation spectacles; many of the older scrolls are in the Wizard language, and in other languages that have long since died out."
She looked pleased at that.
"What else about that arm?" Natasha brought them back on task.
"It's magically connected," Phil reported. "Without unwinding the curses on it, we'll never get it off."
"I want it gone," Sir James whispered. "I remember…" His brow furrowed in what looked like old pain. "Falling. I fell. There was pain. And freezing. The arm isn't mine, that I do know."
There was a fleeting look of pity on Phil's face, but then he went back to business. "There is a single decent charm on that arm, and it's an Unbreakable charm. That's about the only beneficial magic that I can see. Everything else…another Berserker, this one to give that thing immense strength. A modified geas curse that allows him to control it like he would a physical arm, but would also allow someone else to take control if necessary. Contamination –"
"What?" Clint cut in, worried. "It's contaminated?" That wasn't good. What had they all been exposed to?
"Not like that," Phil reassured him. "It's what's called the Law of Magical Contamination. Any magical artifact automatically contaminates its user. Not usually in a bad way; it's like not having a piece of paper to write something down on, and you use your arm instead. The magic marks the user."
That didn't sound too bad.
"In this case –"
Of course, there was a but…
"The magic makes the bearer of the arm compatible with the actual arm by contaminating the owner with its own magical signature."
"Like calls to like," Daisy spoke up.
Phil glanced at her proudly. "Exactly right. In this case, the similar magical signature kept Sir James' body from rejecting the arm, and vice versa."
"We're going to have to invalidate the contamination before we can even hope to start removing it," Ianto added. "And then the various curses. It's going to be quite the operation."
"What's it to the three Grand Masters of the Orders?" Jack said confidently.
"There will come a time," Ianto said, rolling his eyes fondly, "when I won't be able to do something, and your confidence in me will get me into trouble. Now, you're dragging Phil and Stephen into it."
"Never gonna happen."
Clint was leaning toward agreeing with the Deathless, because he knew Phil and knew just what he could do. Damnit, the man could do things with the Void that should have been impossible. The Elf might not have been a trained Wizard, but he'd seen it with his own eyes. His lover was amazing, and he was glad that someone else was seeing it, too.
"We have a lot to do," Stephen put in. "Digging Hydra out of Void Order, and then helping Sir James, here. Unless he can tell us about just who we might be looking for?"
The knight shook his head, his dark, lank hair falling over his forehead. "I only know who was in that house, and I wasn't even told their names."
Jack was nodding. "That makes sense. They didn't care about you, beyond you being a weapon for them."
"I might still be."
It was a good sign that he was doubting himself. Clint had been on the wrong side of mind control before – thank you, Loki – and knew what that was like. If he wasn't worried that he might be triggered in some way, then the archer would have been more concerned. It showed he was coming back from whatever the hells Hydra had done to him.
"What do you recall?" Ianto asked softly.
The Winter Knight turned wounded eyes up to the Cardinal Wizard. "Hydra. All I can really remember, besides bits and pieces, is Hydra."
"Then they have been around for a while," Jack confirmed. "Looks like the Avatar was correct about that."
Clint had heard about the conversation with the Avatar of Gateway, and her assertion that Hydra had been around a lot longer than just this iteration. If Hydra had been involved in the Century War…it could mean a bigger mess than what they'd all thought.
He wondered if Sir Steven would be able to tell them more once he was awake. After all, unless being trapped within the Void had somehow damaged him, then he would be the perfect source for any information on an historic cabal going by that name. It might even make their own hunt a little easier.
"Did you find the casket they kept me in?" Sir James' voice went even softer, as if he was asking for some sort of horrible secret.
And maybe he was, knowing the true nature of that thing.
"Are you going to suggest we put you back in?" Phil questioned. He didn't look very happy.
"Until you can get this off," he raised the metallic arm, "and remove the curses, it might be for the best."
"I don't like that idea at all," Jack growled.
"Neither do I." Ianto's face had gone adamant in denial.
"He could be right," Natasha mused.
That had every eye in the room on her, including Clint's, who'd been inclined to agree with the outrage that had begun to grow in his lover's eyes. The very idea of anyone wanting to go back into that thing… it made him shiver just thinking about it.
Although, Clint could understand it. When he'd come out of Loki's mind control, the first thing he'd wondered about himself was if he was safe to be around, if Loki could somehow regain the magical control that he'd had the Elf under. He would have done anything to protect his friends and loved ones; that had included Phil, but that had been before he'd been told that the Dark One had gone into open challenge with Loki and had been killed in the attempt. Also, by the time he'd been brought out of Loki's thrall, the armies of the Western Lands had rallied and pushed the mad Asgardian's demonic forces back. It hadn't been long after that, that Loki had been taken into custody and shipped back to Asgard, where he'd stood trial and had been summarily imprisoned…where he remained to this day. He still wanted to know how Whitehall had gotten in to see him, but that was for another day.
"I refuse to put you back into that Zero Cabinet," Ianto swore. "It's inhumane."
"I won't even know it," Sir James said softly. "It'll be like blinking for me."
"But, I'll know it!" the Cardinal Wizard nearly shouted. It was the first time Clint had ever seen Ianto lose his temper, but the man was seriously angry for even suggesting that Sir James go back into that box.
"And if I want to go back?" Sir James stood. He and Ianto were the same height, but there was something about the man that seemed to tower over the Wizard. It wasn't menace, although the Winter Knight was certainly menacing. And it wasn't power, either; Ianto was much more powerful, magic-wise, and Clint had no doubt that he could take care of himself against the fallen knight.
No, it was more an emotional thing. Sir James Barnes was so full of despair and guilt and more that it had piled upon him, making him more tragic than a person had a right to be. It gave him a gravitas that had him seem taller and stronger than anyone else in the room.
"I can't run the risk of hurting anyone," Sir James went on. "And, right now, that's a very real risk. Until you can remove the curses and this arm," he raised the metal/magic one, spreading his fingers out in front of him, "there's a very significant threat that I could get triggered and hurt someone. That's the last thing I want to do." He stared Ianto right in the eye. "So, please. Put me back in that coffin. Once you've taken care of Hydra, you can come back to me. I won't be going anywhere."
Clint held his breath. Because, the guy was right. Until they could get all that cursed shit off him, he was a threat. Sure, he'd come with them willingly, but that didn't mean Hydra could somehow get to him in some way, and that would put everyone in danger. As much as he didn't like the idea of locking an innocent person away, at this point in time it would most likely be for the best.
He didn't expect Daisy to be the one to break the stalemate between Ianto and Sir James.
That brave young woman calmly stepped between the two men, her gaze uplifted toward the Winter Knight, her dark eyes examining him closely as if she could read his mind. As no one had said that she had access to mental magic, that wasn't something Clint thought she could do, but it was still really impressive.
The only sign of her nerves were the twitching of her fingers, from where they protruded from her magical gauntlets.
"Do you remember me?" she asked.
The Winter Knight nodded. "I'm sorry for what I did to you."
"Yeah, I get that." Skye, from her perch on Daisy's shoulder, sniffed at the man and then sneezed. It would have been funny if things weren't so fraught at the moment.
"I don't want to do that again, but I can't promise that won't happen."
Daisy nodded. "I get that," she repeated. "You see, when my magic first manifested, I caused an earthquake that had half a mountain slide into the valley beyond our home."
Clint's eyes widened in surprise. While he'd known that the gauntlets she wore gave her control over her magic, the Elf hadn't realized she was that powerful. From Natasha's small flinch, she hadn't known, either, and there wasn't a lot that his partner didn't know.
No wonder Mistress Pepper was the one teaching her. The Head of Cardinal Order was just about as powerful as a Wizard could get, if they weren't named Ianto Jones.
"I was real dangerous," Daisy said, "and the last thing I wanted to do was hurt my Dad. So, he made me these." She held up her arms to display the gauntlets. "Not saying he could do the same for you, but I understand you better than I think anyone else in this room…well, except for my Dad, and he was the Dark One."
She gave Phil a brilliant smile, one that he returned. He nodded at her to keep going, because it seemed to be getting through to their traumatized new friend.
"So, while I get what Ianto's saying, I can also understand your point. Your case is a bit different than mine, what with all the brainwashing and cursing and stuff, but you need to feel safe…as well as keeping the ones who want to help you safe as well."
"Yes, that's right." Sir James looked relieved that she seemed to be sympathizing with him.
"So," the young Wizard took a deep breath. "Here's what I propose. Since Ianto has a moral reason not to put you back into your casket, I'll do it for you."
"Novice Daisy!" Ianto barked, his eyes flashing in anger. "I forbid it!"
"Ianto," Jack called softly. "Let her."
The Cardinal Wizard whirled on his husband. "Jack, that thing is nothing less than a torture device –"
"One that he's very familiar with."
As Clint watched, the Deathless walked over to his Wizard, resting his hands on Ianto's shoulders. Both Stephen and Phil had stepped out of the way; Daisy, however, had turned, her back toward Sir James, as if she meant to protect him from whatever was going to happen next.
That girl had guts. Clint respected the hells out of her.
"You have to trust him to know what he wants," Jack went on. "Yes, that box is horrible, but he's already survived it so many times. And we can't risk him getting triggered by something we might accidentally do."
"He's right," Natasha spoke up. "We can't be watching over our shoulders for the knife that he could very well wield when we aren't paying attention. And it wouldn't even be his fault."
"This will also give us a chance to work out a strategy to free him from the curses that were put on him," Stephen pointed out. "I don't like it any more than you do, but we might not have a choice this time."
'This would make us no better than Hydra," Ianto argued.
"But it does," Daisy interrupted. "Because we're gonna let him out, and fix him. He knows that, and it's what he wants. But he also doesn't want to hurt us, and I can understand his fear."
"It's going to take some planning in order to completely remove all the curses and triggers," Phil said, "and this will give us time to get our house in order and to make certain it's a completely safe environment for him to return to."
The Cardinal Grand Master growled angrily. Jerking away from Jack, he threw his hand out toward one of the work benches that lined the walls, the force of the concussive burst he let loose shattering a couple of glass beakers and tossing a heavy marble mortar and pestle to the floor. Myfanwy, distressed in her own right and also feeling what her master was, keened sadly and flew to her Wizard's side, wrapping one claw about his leg and mantling her wings, as if she wanted to tuck them around Ianto and protect him from his own emotions. It was obvious from the dragon's reacting that Ianto wasn't angry, but distressed at what he saw as unnecessary torment for an innocent whose only crime was to have been in just the wrong place at the wrong time, to have been taken by Hydra and cursed beyond anything anyone had ever witnessed.
It upset the other dragons as well, that a sister was in distress, so they all flocked to their own Wizard; except for Skye, who was already seated on Daisy's shoulder.
Clint wished he could use whatever the hells Elves had to help, but no one knew exactly what made dragons like Elves so much. It was either pheromones, or magic, or perhaps because of his race's closeness to nature, but it wasn't something he could just turn on and off at will.
Still, at least the three others were with their Wizards, who would take care of them.
Through it all, the Winter Knight stood just behind Daisy, accepting her shielding of him even thought he was much taller and had at least twice the weight on the young woman, not including that damned arm. Skye kept her own attention forward, Daisy's confidence in the fact that Sir James didn't want to hurt her evident in her dragon's actions.
For someone who'd been held captive by that very man, Daisy Coulson was showing a lot of faith in him not attacking her. She had more than guts; she had sheer cussedness and determination, and it was wonderful to watch…