Okay, here we go! Part Three! (Which I promise is the last one.) Medieval Winter Soldier to be figured out and love to be declared. (And a camping trip to be undertaken.) Let's go.


"I've never seen anything like what happened."

"What was it?" Steve prompted, when Morita seemed unsure how to go on.

"He started saying these words…I don't know what they were," he said, looking at Peggy. "They sounded like the same language you used when you healed me. I didn't know what they were, but he said them slow and loud and deliberate, one at a time. There were ten of them. He'd only said a couple, and James lowered his sword and started shaking his head, like there was something stuck inside it. Alexander kept going, and James grabbed on to the side of his head, like the words were hurting him. As far as I could tell, they weren't doing anything to anybody else, but James was on his knees screaming by the time he was done."

Steve was staring at Morita, open-mouthed and horrified. Peggy felt a sick knot twisting in her stomach.

"Then he said the last word and…" Morita shrugged helplessly. "James stopped screaming, and he got to his feet and just stared at the Grand Duke and…I don't think I'll ever be able to say what it was I saw in James's eyes, but I've never seen anything so wrong. And the Grand Duke smiled and looked at James and said, 'Soldier?' And James…" Morita stopped and swallowed. "He bowed, and said, 'Ready to comply'. Then Alexander nodded like this—" Morita twitched his head in a 'let's go' motion. "And James just, just walked right after him. I tried to stop him," he said, turning to Steve apologetically. "But it was like he couldn't hear me. Then when I grabbed him, he hit me, and I…" He gestured at his head. "I blacked out for a minute. They were gone by the time I woke up."


Steve opened his mouth, then closed it, lost for words.

"The fighting started breaking up then," Morita added. "Like they'd done what they came for. Nobody but me saw what really happened to James. Everyone else thinks he was captured. I told Dugan, and we knew we needed to come back and tell you. The rest of the guys are back there patching themselves up, and we did send Dernier to try to track them down. Normally, I'd never doubt him, but with magic on the table, who knows?" He shook his head. "We need the reinforcements, but we didn't think the king should know about the spell. Who knows how he'd react to that kind of thing? But we thought if you knew…" He looked back at Peggy. "You're the best chance we have of bringing him home alive."

Peggy knew he was right, but the words still caught her off guard. "I…" she began, truly having no idea what to do. Morita was looking at her hopefully, but that was nothing on the beseeching trust shining brightly in Steve's eyes. "Tell me again," she told Morita, resolutely as she could muster. "Every detail."

Morita went over the story again, including everything he could think of. Peggy interrupted several times with clarifying questions, trying to get as much information as she could. Steve looked as though he was bursting with questions, but was restraining himself so he didn't distract her.

"Well?" Steve asked her when Morita had finished.

Peggy exhaled thoughtfully. "I've heard of this spell," she said. As Morita explained, it had woken something up in the back of her mind. "Only in theory," she went on. "When I was learning magic, we had lessons on dark spells and how to spot them, and this was one of them. It has to be that, only…" All of the details made sense, except for one, and she couldn't work it out. She stood up. "I'll be back. There's a book Erskine has, and I need it."

She knew Steve had wanted a more hopeful answer than that, but he nodded and turned his attention to Morita as she left. Erskine wasn't in his quarters—probably down with the king and the knights in council—but she knew where he kept his books, and it didn't take her long to find the old volume. She hurried back downstairs to where Steve and Morita were waiting, Steve asking all of the questions he'd been saving.

She blew the dust off the cover before coming to sit back down, then cleared a spot on the table for the large book. The cover creaked from disuse as she opened it. Steve and Morita stopped talking, watching as she scanned the table of contents, then flipped through the thick vellum pages. "Are you just going to watch me read?" she asked after a moment.

They shrugged apologetically, but kept watching. She supposed there wasn't much left to say on the topic of the spell until she finished her reading.

Though it had been years since they'd studied the spell, Peggy's memories were sound, and the details were just as she remembered them. Unfortunately, that was what she'd been worried about. "This is the spell," she said, tapping the page in front of her. "Everything you said happened, it's all here. It's just…I don't see how he could have done it."

"What do you mean?" Steve asked.

"Because what Morita saw on the battlefield was the end of the spell," she explained. "But there's a lot of groundwork to be laid first—it's a very complex spell. There was a lot Alexander would have had to do first, and he would have needed to be in fairly close proximity to your brother to do it. He couldn't just do the end of the spell and have it work like that."

"It did work like that, though," Morita said.

"I know," Peggy replied. "That's the part I can't figure out."

"What kind of groundwork?" Steve wondered.

"There's a series of spells he would have had to cast," Peggy explained. "The whole thing actually takes days to complete—weeks sometimes."

They were all quiet for several minutes, absorbing this information.

"How noticeable is magic when you cast it?" Steve asked.

"What?" Peggy said, surprised by the change in topic.

"I mean, when you do magic on me to heal me, I always notice it, especially that thing you do to make me start breathing again. That and the glowing eyes. But could you cast a spell on me without me noticing?" he wondered.

"I could," Peggy said. "Especially if it was something smaller. Actually, unless you're meant to feel the magic, most spells can't be felt physically if you don't know they're happening. Why?"

Steve frowned. "Well, if it's time and proximity you're worried about…Grand Duke Alexander has been around the castle since before James was born, and he's been sitting across the council table from him at least once a week for eleven years. If all he had to do was blink, or look down or something so no one would see his eyes glow…"

"Bloody Nora," Peggy breathed. "It would take him longer—a couple of years perhaps—because he'd have to cast the pieces of the spell in smaller increments, but…" She shook her head. "That has to be how he did it. If the spells were small enough, James would never have noticed."

"Not even after a couple of years?" Morita wondered.

Peggy shook her head. "No. The magic wouldn't actually be doing anything until Alexander did the last part. Once he had it set up, he could wait years if he wanted to, because the spell would lie dormant until he activated it."

"He's been playing a longer game than we thought," Steve said angrily. "This wasn't some recent fight with Dad or whatever that made him decide to try to overthrow things—he's been planning this for years."

Peggy gasped suddenly. "Bloody hell," she whispered.

"What?" Steve and Morita asked.

"I've just realized why he tried to kill you," Peggy said, looking at Steve. "Remember how James said when he confronted him that his response was that it was too late to stop his plan from moving forward?"

Steve nodded.

"That means that now was when he was planning to activate the spell on James. Everything else he was putting together must have been ready. So, he was planning to do this now, and the last piece before finishing the curse on James would be getting you out of the way…" She looked at Steve sadly. "If you had died, James's emotional state would have been a mess. As instantaneous as Alexander's control over him looked," she said, casting a quick glance at Morita. "I guarantee you James was fighting it. If he'd been grieving? He wouldn't have been in control of himself enough to put up any kind of resistance. He tried to kill you to make it easier to control James."

"So James might be able to break his way out?" Steve asked hopefully.

"On his own, it's unlikely," Peggy said apologetically. "It's a very powerful spell. But you being alive increases his chances, especially this early on. You might still be able to reach him." There were counter-curses, and means of magically undoing a spell like that, but they were difficult and time-consuming when cast on an unwilling participant—if Alexander had a strong enough grip on James's mind, they might not be successful. But to add in a bond like the one Steve and James shared—Peggy knew that what they had was something instinctive and primal, dwelling beyond James's conscious mind in places the spell couldn't touch—that might be enough to give her magic the edge it needed to break him the rest of the way out.

"Well, that's something," Morita said, though he didn't sound overly enthused. "It doesn't mean much if we can't find him, though."

"No," Peggy agreed.

He nodded and pushed himself to his feet. "Speaking of which, we're probably going to be moving out soon. We're trying to keep this curse thing under wraps to keep it away from Uther, but if there's no hiding it when we find him…The knights love James. All of us. He's not just our captain, he's a brother-in-arms. If we have to fight him to restrain him, we will, but killing him is the last thing anyone wants to do. Once we find him, can you be ready to go as soon as we can send a messenger for you?" he asked Peggy.

"I can," Peggy said.

Morita nodded. "Hopefully I'll see you soon."

Steve was quiet as he left. Something Morita had said struck Peggy, and she turned to look at Steve. "I understand why Morita and Dugan would want to keep this away from your father, but…Do you really think he would have James killed?"

Steve sighed heavily. "I don't know. I don't think so. He hates magic, but I don't think anything could make him kill Bucky. Not unless…" He sighed. "If he thought maybe it was the only way to save him—that dying was the only way to set him free…" He sighed again. "That might make him do it."

"Do you think that's Alexander's goal?"

Steve shrugged. "Maybe? Or maybe he wants to take over the kingdom, and he knows that if James was fighting for him, Dad wouldn't be able to fight back. Either way…"

"You're going to lose everything," Peggy quoted.

"Yeah," Steve sighed. He looked up at Peggy nervously. "You don't really think…You can save him without killing him, can't you?"

"I honestly don't know," she said. "This is beyond anything I've ever dealt with. But I have every intention of bringing your brother out of this alive."

Steve nodded, giving her a small smile. "Then he'll be alright. I trust you."

Peggy smiled, touched, but a knot caught in her throat. "Thank you," she said softly. "But I—this is so big, I—" She was going to do everything she could, but she hoped Steve's trust wasn't going to be misplaced.

"I trust you," he said again, more firmly this time.

She nodded, not sure of what else to say.

"What were you and Morita talking about while I was getting the book?" she asked after a moment.

"We were trying to figure out where they were," he said. He reached across the table and tugged one of the maps closer. "This is where they got ambushed." He tapped a spot on the map. "Morita said they were heading east when they left, but that doesn't mean much. They could easily have changed directions once they were out of sight."

Peggy nodded thoughtfully, frowning at the map.

"What?" Steve asked.

"It can't be a coincidence that Redhaven is on the other side of those mountains," Peggy said. "Not as often as that village keeps coming up."

"I thought that too," Steve said. "But what do you think it means?"

Peggy's mouth dropped open as lightning flashed across her brain. "I've just remembered where I've heard the name before," she said.

"Where?" Steve asked.

"When I was studying magic—it was part of magical history," she said. It had been years ago, but she could recall the lesson now, clear as day. She could see Michael seated beside her on the log by the well, and her friend, Caroline, on her other side, poking holes into the ground with a stick while Erskine was talking animatedly as he paced back and forth in front of his students. "Years ago, hundreds and hundreds of years, before Camelot was even a kingdom, there was one of the most powerful magicians the world ever saw," Peggy recalled. "He was evil, though, not just using his powers for selfish gain, but for spreading pain and terror. No one now knows his real name, but he called himself the Red Skull. And he had a group of followers who called themselves Hydra. Their emblem was a snake."

Steve's eyes widened. "Like Alexander's ring."

Peggy nodded. "The Red Skull was eventually defeated—the battle was long and bloody, but eventually, he lost. Not all of his followers were killed, though. There's always been stories, legends among magicians, about Hydra slithering up to the surface again."

"How does this tie into Redhaven?" Steve wondered.

"That's where his fortress was," Peggy said. "In the side of the Smoking Mountains. Deep places in the earth hold magic, and there used to be a stronghold built into the side of the mountain. They called it Redhaven."

"And the village?"

"The village is where part of the stronghold used to be," Peggy said. "Erskine brought it up as one of those odd little quirks of history—the people living there now have no idea what the land they live on used to be."

Steve was quiet for several minutes, absorbed in his thoughts. "Bucky said they kept running into those raiders around Redhaven—if those men were Alexander's, maybe they were there so often because it wasn't far from home. Is the stronghold still there?"

"The ruin of it," Peggy said. "Outside the mountain, in any case. No one ever knew how deep into the mountain the fortress went. It could well be an active military base."

"We have to tell Dugan and Morita," Steve said, pushing himself to his feet. They hurried as fast as they could go back down to the Hall, but as they reached the bottom of the stairs, they could hear the thundering of horses' hooves. Rushing to the window, they saw the rest of the army riding away into the fog.

Steve sighed deeply beside her, and Peggy deflated for a moment in defeat before pulling herself back upright. "We can send a messenger after them," she said, resuming her journey for the Hall.

"No," Steve said. He nodded to himself as if coming to a decision, then turned and started going back up the stairs.

"No?" Peggy repeated, surprised. She hurried to catch up with him. "Steve, what are you doing?"

"I'm going after him myself," he declared.

"Steve, you can't do that," Peggy said reflexively.

"Why not?" Steve asked, not slowing his pace.

"Steve, you're in no condition," she said, placing a hand on his arm. She understood where he was coming from, but even if Steve had been healthy, she would have been reluctant to send him out in this weather.

"You said it yourself—I'm the best way of reaching him," he replied. "That means I have to be there."

"Once they find him, they're going to bring him back here," Peggy pointed out.

"If they find him," Steve said. "They don't know where to look. Sending messengers, then waiting for them to find Bucky and bring him back, that will just waste time. Time Bucky might not have—you said the longer he's under this spell, the harder it will be to undo. And what if they find him but can't bring him back? What if it turns into a fight, and he hurts someone, or someone has to hurt him?" He shook his head. "No. I'm going."

"Steve, the journey alone could kill you."

"So, what, I just sit here nice and warm by the fire and wait? No. He would risk his life for me. I can do it for him."

"Steve—"

"I'm going, Peggy," he growled. "You're not going to stop me. If you're that worried about me, then come with me, but either way, I'm going."

"Steve," Peggy said. "I was going to say alright. You're right that you're his best chance. But we need a bit more of a plan than just riding off to Redhaven."

"Oh. Like what?"

"I need to talk to Erskine," she said. "If I'm going to try to break this spell, there's more I need to know. You see to the supplies—food and whatever else you think we'll need. I'll meet you back in your room."

"Okay." The hard lines on his face softened. "Thank you," he said.

Peggy nodded and turned back down the stairs, looking for Erskine in the Hall. The war council had broken up with the departure of the knights, but Erskine and several of the other advisors were still there, talking with the king. Peggy was brought up short for a moment at the look on Uther's face. His treatment of magicians had meant she'd never thought kindly of him, even before she'd seen the way he treated his youngest son. But right now, she couldn't find it in her to feel anything but sympathy at the despair on his face.

She lingered near the door until she was able to catch Erskine's eye. He nodded, though it took him several minutes to excuse himself from the conversation. In hushed tones, Peggy told him everything that had happened as they made their way to his quarters.

He was worried, Peggy could tell, but he was smiling proudly at her. "You were always one of my brightest students," he told her. "I'm glad to see your mind remains as sharp as ever. Yes, everything you've said makes this whole event make much more sense." He shook his head sadly. "I blame myself for not recognizing Alexander for what he was earlier."

"You couldn't have known," Peggy said.

"He's had the king's ear for such a long time," he insisted. "There have been decisions Uther has made in the past that seemed very out of character for him, many of which have ultimately benefited the Grand Duke. When one throws magical influence into the arena, the answer becomes blindingly obvious."

Peggy considered this. "You've been around the palace a long time." Even back when he'd been teaching them magic, he'd played an advisory role to the king, sneaking away for their lessons. "Do you think…Do you think Alexander's magic has played any role in the king's feelings towards Prince Steven?" Erskine arched a curious eyebrow, and Peggy quickly told him the suspicions Steve had shared with her about his mother's death.

Erskine sighed heavily. "That boy is too smart for his own good sometimes. I wish it wasn't so, but the prince is right," he said. "Uther has held Igraine's death against him for twenty-five years—there was magic involved to save his life, and the queen did pay the price for it."

"Did she and the king know it would happen?"

"No. I know the king well enough to say that, unfortunately, his feelings toward his son are his own. Whether they have been deepened by Alexander's influence to cause some sort of rift…" He shrugged. "Who is to say?"

"What happened to the magician?" Peggy wondered. "The one who saved the prince and killed the queen?"

"Oh, he was the first one executed in the Great Purge," Erskine told her.

"Hmm," Peggy frowned. She had wondered if Alexander's influence had stretched back even that far—though she couldn't see what he would have had to gain by making the very arts he practiced illegal—but it would seem not.

They reached Erskine's quarters, and he moved to the shelves lining one wall and began pulling things down. "I see you've already taken my book on dark spells of the mind; good—you'll know what you need to do, then."

"In theory," Peggy said. "I've never done a spell like that before."

"You can do it," Erskine said. She opened her mouth, and he held up a finger to cut her off. "I don't say this to give you false hope. I say this as someone who watched you study magic for ten years. I know what you are capable of. It will be difficult, but this is something you can do."

Peggy nodded gratefully, and he returned to his digging. "It will take you a few days to get to Redhaven," he said. "Especially with this weather and the speed Prince Steven will be able to travel. You should take these—" He tossed several rolls of parchment in her direction. "—and read them when you're camping for the night. The information in them will be very helpful to you." He moved from the shelves to a wooden chest under a blanket. "As for these…" He stepped back towards her with two pendants in his hands. One was a golden eagle almost the size of her palm, and the other was a deep blue jewel, about the size and shape of an eyeball. "I don't know what you're going to find on this journey, but perhaps these will help you." He slid the blue jewel off of its chain and attached it so that it hung alongside the eagle.

"These are filled with magic," he told her. "Reserves of power to help you when a spell is too big for you. These are hard to come by since the Great Purge, and though their power is considerable, it is finite, so use them wisely."

"Oh, no, I couldn't take those from you," Peggy said instinctively.

"Yes, you can," he told her. "And you will. I've been saving them for a time of need, and I can think of a need no greater." He held the chain out to her, and Peggy hesitated a moment, then slipped it around her neck. She could feel the magic waiting inside the pendants, humming sleepily against her chest, but only needing the smallest spell to spring to life.

"Thank you," she said gravely.

He nodded. "I do not envy you your task," he told her sadly. "To say the fate of the kingdom rests on this is not an exaggeration. There is much you need to do. Bringing Prince James home is not enough—you must restore his mind to him, and you must survive the process and facing Alexander so that you can help him heal afterwards. You must also continue to do what you have proved so adept at doing—keeping Prince Steven alive."

"Of course, I—"

"I say this not only for the prince's own sake," Erskine interrupted. "Prince Steven deserves to live. But more than that, he needs to live. James has the makings of a great king, a better king than his father could have ever been. He is the king that Camelot needs, but James needs his brother if he is going to be that king. James is a good man, but there is enough of his father in him that without his brother's influence, he cannot be the king I have foreseen."

"That you've foreseen?" Peggy asked.

Erskine huffed a laugh. "Why do you think I've lived in the palace all these years? You think I enjoy wondering if each day will be the day I die a horrible death because someone discovered who I really am? I am here to do everything I can to make sure what I saw comes to pass. I'm too old now for more than offering advice, but now that the time for action has come…" He smiled warmly at her and put his hands on her shoulders. "Now I put my trust in you."

Peggy swallowed hard, unsure of what to say. "I won't let you down, sir," she said at last.

He squeezed her shoulders once and let go, still smiling proudly. "I know." He huffed another laugh. "You'd better get going. Before Steven becomes impatient and sets out on his own."

Back downstairs, Steve had indeed nearly finished gathering everything they would need to go. Peggy went and changed from her court clothes into something more suitable for travelling in poor weather. She rolled up some extra layers into a small pack, then decided it would be wisest to take her whole medicine chest, instead of guessing at what she might need and regretting it later.

In the stables, they loaded Onyx and Lily with their supplies. Lily seemed to have a bit of cabin fever and trotted happily in the direction of the door, but Onyx eyed the freezing sleet and turned her head back to give Steve a disdainful snort.

"Come on, girl," Steve told her, scratching her behind her ears. "You know I wouldn't make you go out in that unless it was really important." Onyx snorted again. "I'm counting on you here," he told her, and Peggy could hear some of his worry leaking out in his voice. "Please."

Onyx made a nickering sort of noise and started moving for the door.

"That's my girl," Steve said, patting the side of her neck.

There was very little point in conversation once they got outside—even riding side by side, the wind whisked their words away. Peggy ducked back underneath her cloak to stay as warm as she could. For all that visibility was poor, they made decent time out of town and through the fields until the road branched off in the opposite direction of where they wanted to go and they had to turn off into the countryside. Things slowed then, then some more as they reached the woods. Here there was at least some shelter from the wind, but it was no less freezing.

The light started to go, and Peggy pulled Lily to a stop in a place that looked good for camping. "There's still time before dark," Steve protested.

"Yes, but we don't want to set up camp in the dark," Peggy pointed out. "It's going to get even colder after the sun goes down; we want to be well sheltered by then." She understood Steve's desire to press on, but they weren't going to save anybody if they froze to death.

Begrudgingly, Steve nodded and circled Onyx back to hitch her next to Lily. He dismounted a great deal less gracefully than he usually did—away from the warmth of the castle, the pain in his joints would be increasing with the cold.

Steve started the fire while Peggy gathered some larger branches to prop their tent up. Putting the cover over it was a two-person job, made more difficult by the fact that Steve could barely move his hands at this point. They finally got it up, and Peggy sent him inside to change into something dry, setting up some sticks along the fire to hang their wet things on and giving the fire a bit of magical help to make sure it didn't go out any time soon. Then she changed as well and brought her things to hang by the fire where Steve was attempting to cook dinner.

They huddled together next to the fire as they ate. The rain and sleet had cleared up, leaving a gorgeous scattering of stars across the night sky in their wake. The starlight shone off the snow on the tree branches and the silky black of Onyx's coat, and it was…well, had they not been hunting for a dark wizard, it would have been rather peaceful.

"Sorry it's not very good," Steve said, nodding at their dinner. The stew was on the burnt side even though the vegetables managed to be somehow undercooked, but Peggy hadn't been planning on mentioning it. "I, ah, I don't camp a lot."

"Or ever?" Peggy teased, not unkindly.

His cheeks reddened, but he smiled. "Or ever," he agreed.

"It's food and it's warm," she assured him. "Night like this, that's all I'm after. Thank you for making it."

He smiled and nodded.

After they ate, she got up to get her medicine chest. "Has the fire helped with your joint pain at all?" she asked.

"A little," he said, moving his fingers gingerly.

She nodded and handed him a vial, and he drank it down after struggling with the cap for a moment. She sat back down beside him and put her hands on his face—the only part of his skin not covered up—and ran all of her diagnostic spells to see how he was doing. His lungs were straining and his heart was too, so she gave him more medicine than she did in a usual evening and cast a quick spell to clear up his airways.

Peggy did a bit more magic to make sure the fire wouldn't go out in the night, and added some extra heat to make sure the horses stayed warm, then they retired to the shelter. "There's not a lot of room in here," Steve remarked as Peggy settled down into the pile of blankets that made up the floor.

"No," Peggy agreed, realizing where this was going. "And this is no time to be a gentleman about it. Both of us might very well freeze to death unless we share our body heat." She lifted the corner of the blanket. "Get under here."

Very red in the face, but unable to argue, Steve nodded and did so, and Peggy blew out the candle. Once settled, he still seemed to be trying to leave as much space as he could between them, so Peggy looped an arm around his waist and tugged him over so that he was lying up against her.

Steve gave a little squawk of surprise but said nothing, just shifted a bit to get more comfortable. "Thank you for doing this," he said after a moment.

"It's not entirely altruistic," Peggy told him. "If we weren't doing this, I'd be cold too."

"No, I didn't mean just that," he clarified. "Although, thank you for that too." His voice sounded like he was blushing. "I meant thank you for coming with me."

"You're welcome," Peggy replied, suddenly fighting down the urge to lean forward and kiss the top of his head. Several silent minutes passed, then she said, "We're going to find him, Steve. We're going to fix this."

She felt Steve nod. "I know," he said softly. He drew in a deep breath. "Doesn't stop me from worrying about what might happen to him before we get there."

Peggy wasn't sure what to say to that, so she just hugged him a little closer. Despite the many things she had on her mind and the fact that she was lying on the ground, it had been a tiring day, it was warm inside their little roll of blankets, and it wasn't long before she fell asleep.

When she woke up, the shelter was filled with the soft light of early morning. Sleep appeared to have dispelled Steve's discomfort over their sleeping situation, as he had rolled over to face her and flung an arm over her side sometime in the night, snuggling against her and resting his head on her shoulder. Although there were rather a lot of layers between them, Peggy thought that he fit against her very nicely, and she tightened the arm she had around him without really thinking about it. She supposed she should get up and do something about breakfast, but she was very comfortable right here. A few more minutes wouldn't hurt anything.

The sunlight coming into the tent was a little brighter the next time she woke up, and Peggy sighed and reluctantly wriggled her way out of the tangle of blankets and Steve. She really should do something about breakfast, and nature was calling rather urgently. Bloody Nora, it was cold outside!

By the time she stoked the fire back up, Steve was awake, and she wondered if he was embarrassed about the night before—he came out of the tent to stand awkwardly by the fire instead of sitting beside her on the log. She also couldn't help noticing how stiffly he was moving. "Are you in pain again?" she asked him.

"Kind of," he said.

"Steve, I appreciate that you don't want to appear as though you can't do this, but I would hope by now you've realized you don't have to prove yourself to me," she told him. "I'm not going to make you turn back, but I need an honest answer if I'm going to help you keep going. Are you in pain?" she asked again.

His cheeks flushed scarlet, but he nodded. "Yes," he admitted. He sighed. "I woke up when you got out from under the blanket, but it took me this long to get up." He nodded at the log she was sitting on. "I'd come sit with you, but I don't know if I can bend that way."

Peggy nodded sympathetically. "Let me have a look," she said, getting up and removing her gloves so she could touch his face and do a diagnostic spell. It was just the cold—or, perhaps, still the cold—and sleeping on the ground hadn't helped the stiffness in his joints. She muttered a quick spell that sent some warmth into his body, then steered him over closer to the fire.

"Thanks," he said. "I'm sorry I'm so…" He couldn't seem to find the word he wanted to finish with, but Peggy got the gist.

"It's no trouble," she told him. She placed a bowl of oatmeal in his hands and smiled. "Eat your breakfast."

They had breakfast and fed the horses, then packed up camp and loaded up. Yesterday's rain and sleet had gone, but the fog and the wind persisted. Steve kept them on course, and Peggy kept an eye on Steve. She worried about his lungs in air like this, and they stopped several times more than he thought they needed to, to just breathe, let her run her checks, and do a bit of healing magic. By late afternoon, he was wheezing something awful, and Peggy insisted that they stop and set up camp. He didn't argue as much as she would have expected.

He was so stiff in dismounting from Onyx's saddle that he would have fallen if Peggy hadn't been there to grab his arm. "You come and sit by the fire," Peggy told him. "I'll get the tent up."

"It needs two people," he protested.

"I'll manage," she told him. And with a bit of magic, she did. She changed into her clothes from yesterday, and brought today's out to dry by the fire. Steve was still sitting there, his eyes shining in the firelight. "Are you alright?" she asked him. He nodded a bit tightly, but didn't say anything. He looked exhausted and miserable.

Peggy helped him to his feet and into the tent. "I don't…" he began. He sighed deeply. "Can you help me change?" he asked, his voice almost a whisper. "My hands aren't…"

"Of course," she said. She stripped him of his wet things quickly and professionally and helped him into dry trousers and shoes. "Can you lie down?" Peggy asked him, setting his shirt to the side. "We'll see if we can't do something about this pain."

He looked confused, but he complied, lying down on his stomach on the rug across the bottom of the tent. Peggy pulled some ointments from her medicine chest and rolled up her sleeves and started to work her hands across his back and arms. As she massaged him, she magicked a bit of heat into her hands, working it down into his body along with the salve. At first it was like massaging a rock—a cold rock—but after only a few minutes the stiffness faded away and his muscles were warm and yielding under her fingers. He groaned incoherently into the floor once or twice as she worked a particularly tough spot, but it soon gave way to snoring, and Peggy smiled fondly. She finished her work, feeling warmer herself for the exertion, and covered him up and tucked him in securely.

Back outside by the fire, she pulled Erskine's scrolls from her bag and read through them, absorbing everything she could about spells that affected the mind, and the sorts of things to be aware of when trying to break them. She read through them all once, and there was a lot of useful information in them. When she tried to start going through them again, however, she had trouble focusing. Her mind drifted back to Steve, sleeping in the tent. It was little wonder he looked so miserable—he was in pain, he was freezing, and he was still recovering from his ordeal with the fever. He'd never had to live hard like this, and it was taking its toll on him, never mind the fact that he was worried nearly to the point of making himself ill again about his brother. Despite all of that, Peggy couldn't suppress a smile—he was pressing on and doing what needed doing, not afraid to ask for help but not complaining either. She'd known him for a while now, but she couldn't pretend she wasn't impressed.

"Hey," he said, breaking her train of thought as he came out of the tent. He'd managed to dress himself the rest of the way, and he was moving less awkwardly now.

"Hello," she said. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," he said. He smiled. "Thank you." He came and sat beside her. "Are you okay?"

"I am, yes," she said. "Why?"

He shrugged one shoulder. "You're tougher than I am, but this is a hell of a trip. Aren't you tired?"

"I am," she said. She grinned. "That's why I haven't started on dinner yet. I was saving it for you—make you pull your own weight."

Her teasing tone had its desired effect, and he laughed. "Masochist," he said.

Dinner was just as bad as the night before, but, again, it was food and it was warm. And for all that he couldn't make stew, he made a very good cup of tea. As if by unspoken agreement, they didn't talk about their mission as they ate, huddled together against the cold. After dinner, Peggy asked him to tell her more about James.

"Why?" he asked. "Will that help you with your magic, knowing things about him?"

"It might," Peggy said, and it might well do that, though it hadn't been what she intended. "But really, I just wanted to know." And she suspected Steve wanted to talk about him. "Tell me about the two of you when you were younger."

After thinking for a minute, Steve did so. After he told a story about the time the two of them climbed up on the castle roof and got stuck, Peggy told him a story about how her brother had wanted to explore down into the well outside of Erskine's house, just to see if he could get in it, followed by the story of how she had to rescue him. They passed stories back and forth until the last glimmer of sunset had faded from the sky.

Peggy packed up the remains of dinner while Steve checked on the horses. She pulled several medicines from her trunk for him to take—not just the usual nightly potions for his lungs and heart, but more medicine for his joints, and a couple of different mixtures to help ward off any sort of fever, and whatever it was that was making him wheeze and start to cough. After making sure the fire would stay going all night for the horses, they retired to the tent. Steve blushed a little, but he crawled under the blanket with her willingly enough, and he made no objection when she wrapped an arm around his waist. "Comfortable?" she asked him.

"Yeah," he said. "I—Yes. I'm good."

"What is it?" Peggy asked, wondering what he'd been going to say.

"Nothing," he said, shaking his head.

"What?" Peggy teased, poking him in the side.

"I was just, I was going to say this is…it's…well, it's kind of nice, is all. I mean, you know, it's warm, and everything, and…yeah."

"It is nice," Peggy agreed with a smile. She felt a bit bad for teasing him, but he was awfully cute when he got all flustered like that. Although, there was that urge to lean forward and kiss him again, this time just behind his ear. "Good night, Steve," she told him.

"Good night," he replied.

Peggy didn't fall asleep as quickly as she had the night before, but Steve did. Utterly spent, he fell asleep almost immediately, and Peggy smiled as he drew his hand forward in his sleep to grasp the one she had holding him against her. She decided what the hell, and she kissed him lightly behind his ear and closed her eyes, listening to him breathe as she fell asleep.

She came awake slowly, warm and content, and she realized after a moment that the hand in her hair wasn't hers. Puzzled, she opened her eyes. It would seem Steve wasn't the only one who became more uninhibited in his sleep—she had pulled Steve even closer to her in the night, and while that might be written off as an attempt to keep warm, she didn't know if she could say the same about the way her face was nuzzled into the crook of his neck. Steve evidently didn't mind, as he had responded by stretching his arm up and tucking his hand against the side of her face, pressing her cheek against his and twisting his fingers into a lock of hair that had escaped her braid. His skin was warm and soft, and at this distance, she couldn't help but be entranced at how long and soft his eyelashes looked. She wondered what they would feel like fluttering against her cheek, then closed her eyes and scolded herself. He was the prince and she was nothing close to royalty—that sort of thinking wouldn't do.

She should probably get up—although it was terribly comfortable—then Steve drew in a deep breath and shifted, his eyes coming open slowly. "Hi," he said with a sleepy smile.

"Good morning," she replied, smiling back.

He came a little more awake, realized where his arm was, and pulled it back. "Sorry," he said, color rising in his cheeks.

"It's alright," Peggy said. She gave his waist a quick squeeze to remind him where her hands were and that he wasn't the only one who got clingy in their sleep. "I don't mind."

He smiled at her, soft and warm and still a little sleepy, and Peggy thought she wouldn't mind seeing that smile more often.

He was just as stiff in getting to his feet as he had been the morning before, perhaps even more so, and Peggy did the spell to warm him up as soon as he was vertical. Along with breakfast, she gave him the same array of medicines she had the night before. Today looked as though it would be free of rain, but the wind was bitterly cold. Before putting the tonic for warding off the chill away, she took a bit of it herself—they were all going to be in trouble if she came down with something.

Their morning went on much as yesterday's had, and the terrain grew rougher. It was turning out to be a good thing that Onyx was such a big horse—she could navigate her way up and around rocks and branches without much difficulty, and she picked her way up the rocky, snowy side of the hills they crossed fairly independently, freeing Steve up from having to try to steer her. She was also tall enough to clear a path through some of the deeper snow drifts for Lily, who didn't share her height.

Peggy couldn't see too much in the fog, and so she was content to let Lily follow Onyx, which worked until she nearly ran smack into her about an hour after stopping for lunch. "Careful!" Peggy said. The ground was slippery and not suited for quick stops. "What is it?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," Steve said. He patted Onyx's neck. "Something's spooked her." He was peering into the canyon in front of them like he was trying to see through the fog. He looked back at Peggy. "Can you tell if there's anything wrong? You know, magic-wise?"

Peggy pulled Lily up so she was even with Steve and scanned the area in front of them. "I can't sense anything," she said after a moment. "I would think we're a bit far out from Redhaven to feel anything like that yet." They weren't expecting to get there until some time tomorrow.

Steve nodded. "Keep an eye out as we go, huh? Something's wrong."

Peggy nodded, and they moved forward carefully. Steve had one hand on the reins and one hand on his sword. Peggy kept her eyes and ears open for any sign of trouble, but all she could hear was hooves on rock and the sound of Steve trying not to breathe too loudly. Onyx snorted unhappily, and whatever it was was bothering Lily now too. "Should we turn around?" Peggy wondered.

"This is the only way through this part of the mountains," Steve said. He cocked his head, sniffing the air. "Do you smell that?"

Peggy sniffed experimentally, not noticing anything at first, but then the breeze shifted. "That smells like blood," she said.

Steve nodded. "She probably smelled it back there," he said, patting Onyx's neck and nodding back behind them. "But I think if there was an animal or something up here, she'd be putting up a lot more of a fuss," he went on, answering the question Peggy had been about to ask. He looked over at her grimly, and she nodded and they moved forward slowly.

Rounding a bend in the rocks, the smell of blood on the air grew stronger, and Peggy spotted something red that stood out through the fog like a beacon. "Steve!" she gasped, and she pressed Lily forward faster. The red was the cape of a knight of Camelot, and it was underneath a body lying in the snow. She was already jumping down from her horse and kneeling down in the snow as Steve pulled to a stop behind her and dismounted more cautiously. Peggy quickly ran her hands over the knight, checking for any sign of life, but it was no use. His cape wasn't the only red standing out against the snow. Crystals of blood frosted his body and the snow beneath him.

"He's dead," Peggy said softly. She looked up at Steve. "Who was he?" He wasn't one of the knights she recognized.

"Arthur," Steve said, his voice tight in his throat. "Arthur Collins." He swallowed hard and nodded for her to turn around.

She turned, then she gasped, her hand flying up to cover her mouth. Arthur wasn't the only knight lying in the snow. There were more—Peggy counted eight of them lying among the rocks. She and Steve rushed to check each one of them, but they were all dead, and for some time too, if Peggy had to guess. At least a day, maybe more.

"Peggy!" Steve called fearfully. She hurried over to the knight he was kneeling beside, and her eyes went wide. It was Dugan. "He's breathing," Steve whispered. "He's breathing; Peggy, help him!"

It wasn't much, a barely perceptible rise and fall of his chest, but he was breathing. They dug him out of the snow and Peggy set to examining him. His wounds were deep, but the way he had fallen into the snow had saved him—his blood had slowly frozen as it came out and actually sealed up the wounds, keeping him from bleeding out. It was still killing him, of course, and he wouldn't have lasted the night, but it had kept him alive long enough for her to get there.

Some very hasty, careful magic had everything knitted back together again, and he groaned. She followed that up quickly with the warming spell she'd been using so often on Steve. "Dugan?" Peggy asked, placing a careful hand on his chest. "Can you hear me?"

"Yeah," he groaned. He opened his eyes and looked around. "Am I dead?"

"No," Peggy assured him.

He looked at her, then at Steve, then down at his no-longer-bleeding-midsection. "I'd ask what you were doing here, but thank you seems more appropriate," he croaked.

"You're welcome," Peggy said. "Let's get you up out of the snow."

It took both her and Steve and one of the horses to get him upright, but they managed. "What happened?" Steve asked.

Dugan looked at Steve sorrowfully. "We found James."

Steve's eyes widened and his head snapped around to view the bodies scattered across the snow. "Where? I didn't see him—"

"No," Dugan said, shaking his head heavily. "We weren't bringing him back. He did this."

Steve's jaw dropped open, and Peggy felt a sick knot twisting in her stomach. She'd been hoping desperately that they would find James before something like this happened.

"We'd split up into several teams to search," Dugan explained. "Yesterday, my group ran into him—he was with Alexander, and we thought with nine of us and two of them, we could get him." He sighed deeply and looked around. "The rest of them are all dead, aren't they?"

Peggy nodded. "You only survived because the cold slowed down how fast you were bleeding."

"Bucky did this?" Steve asked disbelievingly.

Dugan nodded grimly. "I've never seen anything like it. He was always one of the best swordsmen in the company, but there are several of us who could make him work for it. This…It was like he wasn't even trying. And look at this," he said. His hands went to his stomach, pulling open a tear in the chain mail that gaped open over where his wound had been.

"Enhanced strength is another spell that would have gone along easily with the first one," Peggy said almost to herself, brushing a hand over the torn links of metal.

"He plowed through nine of us like knocking over scarecrows," Dugan went on. "Barely even broke a sweat." He shook his head. "And he didn't respond to a word we said—like he had no idea who we were." He added this last part softly, and Peggy remembered him saying he'd known the prince since childhood.

Steve seemed unable to speak, but he moved forward mechanically to help Peggy as Dugan staggered to the side. "Easy," Peggy said, getting under Dugan's shoulder. "Let's find some shelter." A quick search turned up a nearby cleft in the rocks, sheltered from the snow and wind and reasonably dry. She used magic to start a fire, and Dugan sank down in front of it gratefully while she and Steve huddled in close.

"Sorry," Dugan said. "You just healed me; I don't know why I'm so tired."

"I couldn't heal everything," Peggy explained. "You lost an awful lot of blood, and it will take some time for your body to replenish that."

Dugan frowned thoughtfully. "Morita got up alright after you fixed him."

"He wasn't lying in the snow for a day before I healed him," Peggy pointed out. "And I might also point out that he sat still and rested for a few hours before actually getting up—we had to take the time to act like I was doing surgery, remember?"

"Oh, yeah," he said. He sniffed thoughtfully. "So, what are you two doing here anyway?"

"Looking for the prince," Peggy said when Steve still didn't seem inclined to speak. "We realized that it's likely the Grand Duke is holed up near Redhaven, and if we can find James…It took magic to do this to him, so it will probably take magic to undo it. And if he sees Steve…" She didn't finish the thought, but she didn't have to, because Dugan was nodding, somewhat to her surprise. Then again, maybe it wasn't surprising. He'd known the princes since childhood, after all.

"If anything could get through to him, that might." He leaned forward and grabbed Steve's arm, pulling him back into the conversation. "Listen. I know James did this, but I also know what I saw in his eyes. He's not himself right now. I don't hold him responsible for their lives, and I don't think they would either—that's all on Alexander. It wasn't your brother that did this."

He let go of Steve's arm and sat back, and Steve gave a small, jerky nod.

"You're right about Redhaven too," Dugan said. "There's nowhere else around here they could be."

"Can you ride?" Steve asked.

Dugan shook his head at the same time Peggy did. "No," he said. "I don't have the strength to stay on a horse for long, and if we ran into trouble…" He shook his head. "I'd only be in the way."

Steve nodded, and Peggy could see that he was torn between the need to take care of his friend and the need to find his brother.

"Look," Dugan went on. "Leave me here." He raised his hands to cut off Steve's protest. "No, listen. You leave me this magic fire, and I'll be plenty warm. Leave me a sword, and I can scare off anything that tries to mess with me. If I'm feeling better soon, I'll follow after you, and if not, you can pick me up on your way back home."

"We can't—" Steve protested.

"I'll be fine," Dugan cut him off. "It's your brother who needs you now. Brute force didn't work to snap him out of it, but you've got something different. The two of you…" He paused here to nod at each of them. "I think you can do this." He waved a hand in the direction of Redhaven. "If you go now, you ought to make it to the foot of the mountain before dark."

Peggy nodded, seeing the wisdom in this plan—it would be too late to attempt to breach the stronghold tonight, but if they made it to the bottom of the mountain, tomorrow they could start right off with their mission, instead of having to travel some more. "I can make the fire strong enough not to go out on him," Peggy told Steve, who still seemed unsure. "And I can even put up a warding spell or two to protect him."

"Alright," Steve sighed. "If you're sure," he said, looking at Dugan.

"I'm sure." He nodded gravely. "Go bring him home."

They got Dugan situated with the fire and a sword, and Steve gave him some of their food while Peggy cast her warding spells. Then they set off again.

The rocks blocked most of the wind, but they still rode in grim silence. Peggy couldn't imagine what was going through Steve's mind. She knew his brother was a capable warrior, and she assumed Steve had seen at least a bit of that, but she had only ever seen James's gentler side. She couldn't picture the same man who had cradled his dying brother in his arms and whispered soft words into his ear tearing through nine fully armed men with enough ferocity to shred chain mail.

They rode until the light began to go, finally reaching the base of the mountain. A knot of trees gave them a place to camp, and they dismounted and started setting things up. There wasn't much to see beyond the firelight, but a feeling of foreboding hovered over them in the dark. It hurt just watching Steve move, but he brushed off her concerns and helped her get the tent up and secure it. They ate quickly and retired to the tent without saying much.

"Can I work your joints again like I did last night?" Peggy asked, pulling out some of her ointments. Steve nodded and pulled off his shirt stiffly, staring ahead grimly as he lay down on his stomach and she started her work.

"Thank you," he said after several quiet minutes, and though he sounded distant and far away, Peggy couldn't help smiling just a little. He was wrapped up in his own concerns, but still unable to ignore someone else's efforts.

"You're welcome," Peggy said, then, softly, "I'm sorry."

She felt a shudder run through the muscles under her hands. "Will he remember what Alexander made him do?" he whispered.

Peggy's hands stilled for a moment. "Probably," she said quietly. She poured a bit more salve on her hands and started again, working the potion and the magic deep down into Steve's muscles—he was going to need to feel as well as he could for tomorrow.

"That's going to kill him," Steve breathed. "Knowing he did that to his own men…"

"It wasn't his fault," Peggy said.

Steve nodded. "I know. But I know him—he won't see it that way."

Peggy's left hand slid up and gripped Steve's shoulder, and she squeezed it warmly. "No," she agreed. "But that kind of compassion makes him a good man. And I think time…There's a lot that time can heal. And love," she added, squeezing his shoulder again. "They can heal a lot that magic can't touch."

Steve nodded into the ground. Peggy finished up her work, Steve dressed again, and they climbed down into their pile of blankets and blew out the candle. Steve lay there for a long time, quiet but too tense to be asleep, and Peggy wished there was something she could do.

"What if he doesn't recognize me?" Steve whispered, so quiet that Peggy would have missed it if he wasn't so close.

"He will," Peggy said.

"How can you know that?"

Instead of replying right away, Peggy reached up a hand to Steve's shoulder and rolled him so that he was facing her. She couldn't see him in the dark, but she imagined his eyes were shining with worried tears. "Because you belong to a part of him that goes deeper than magic can reach. You remember how I told you about the enormous scales of life and death sort of magic?"

She felt Steve nodding.

"That's the sort of magic it would take for him to forget you," she said. "It might take him a while to realize it," she allowed. "But he can't ever forget you completely. Not while there's still breath in his body. I believe that with all my heart." She pulled Steve forward, cradling his head under her chin, and instead of pulling away, Steve folded into the embrace like a child, wrapping his arms around her and holding on as if he was afraid to let go. "We can do this, Steve," she said. "We can do this." She wasn't sure how yet, but she had the magic to fight, and Steve would die before giving up, and between the two of them, they would work out a way.

Steve nodded, but said nothing, cinching his arms a little tighter around her. He was trembling a little, not with the cold, Peggy knew. She brought one hand up to his head and stroked his hair gently, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. He shook and she tried not to, faced with the enormity of what she knew she was going to face tomorrow and just how much of it was resting on her. Cold and frightened but together in the dark, they fell asleep.

The next morning dawned grey and chilly, clouds above heavy with the promise of rain. Steve groaned in pain when he tried to sit up, and it took the medicine and the massage and the warming spell to get him moving again—it would have done even if he wasn't donning chain mail over his traveling clothes today.

"How am I going to do this, Peggy?" he asked, packing away the dishes from breakfast. "I can barely move; what am I supposed to do against dark magic?"

"Steve, anyone else in your condition wouldn't even be out here," Peggy told him. "You should have died countless times over by this point in your life, but yet, here you are, because you are too bull-headed to let something so immaterial as the laws of nature tell you what to do."

He smiled at that in spite of himself.

"Whatever it is that's kept you alive for twenty-five years will get you through this now," she went on. "You may need to not leave your bed for a week after we get back to the castle, but you can do this."

"You really think so?"

"With all my heart," she said. She gave him an encouraging smile. "I've never admired anyone's determination more."

His eyes widened in surprise, then he blushed and nodded and didn't seem sure of what to say.

"Let's get a move on," Peggy said, sparing him having to come up with a response, and he nodded again.

Thunder rumbled above them as they rode, but the clouds held back their rain. It was a short journey from the foot of the mountain to where the ruins of the old stronghold began. At first it wasn't much—a crumbled bit of wall here, or an eroded piece of road there. But soon they began to see the remains of battlements and towers, dark stone standing out ominously against the mist and snow.

"Do you feel that?" Peggy asked. This was a place that had known magic; dark, powerful magic that lingered in echoes in the rocks and whispers in the air.

"You mean that feeling like something is creeping up my spine and yelling in my ear for me to run away?" Steve asked. "Yeah."

"It's magic meant to keep people away," Peggy said. "And this place is holding the shadows of some very old magic, but that spell is new," she said.

Steve caught the significance of what she was saying at once. "So we're in the right place."

"We are," Peggy agreed.

"I would have expected, you know, guards and things," Steve said.

"Yes," Peggy agreed. "Perhaps the soldiers are out terrorizing a village, or fighting the rest of the knights. Or perhaps Alexander doesn't think he needs them."

Steve nodded, and they continued on carefully. Soon they came to a path among the ruins, a path that was smooth and well-used. A path that led up to an opening in the side of the mountain.

"That'll be it, then," Peggy said. She looked at Steve. "I have no idea what we're going to find in there."

He nodded grimly. They dismounted, but didn't tie the horses up. "Onyx will wait for me," Steve said in answer to Peggy's questioning eyebrow. "But if something happens to us…If she's free, she can find her way home. Lily will follow her."

Peggy nodded. Steve checked his sword, and Peggy pulled a few things she thought might be useful from her medicine chest and packed them into her satchel, then patted the pendants Erskine had given her that were tucked inside her collar to make sure they were secure.

"Hey, um, before we go in," Steve began. "What you said before about me being determined and you admiring that and everything…"

"Yes?"

"Thank you. I…That you would say that is…Thank you. And I, well, I hope you know that stubborn as I am, I wouldn't've ever made it here without you. That you've stuck by me like this, well, it means an awful lot to me," he said, and though there was color in his cheeks, his eyes were blazing sincerity. "I wanted to make sure you knew that."

Peggy smiled warmly at him, and she wasn't sure what to say, so she nodded.

"Ready?" Steve asked.

"Ready," she replied. "Let's do this."

The path up to the opening was well-used, but it was slick with ice, which meant there had not been great quantities of people using it this morning. Peggy didn't know if that meant the soldiers were all inside and hadn't come out, or if they were all out somewhere and hadn't returned. She hated to think of the damage they might be doing if they were out, but it would certainly make their job easier if they were gone.

Steve seemed to be thinking the same, and he held his sword at the ready as they approached the door. No one was waiting inside, and there was no spell barring the way, so, very carefully, they slipped inside.

"That seemed awfully easy," Steve said.

"I suspect that either that spell that was making you want to run away would negate the need for a regular guard," Peggy said. "Or, we're walking into a trap."

"Or both," Steve said. "On the plus side, it's warmer in here." Out of the wind and protected from the snow, it was that. Not warm enough that Peggy felt the need to shed any of her layers, but she wasn't shivering anymore, which was nice. They were standing in a large antechamber of rough-cut stone. A set of torches burning on the wall was proof that the old stronghold was inhabited once again.

There was a door opposite the one they had come in, and they warily made their way toward it. On the other side, they stopped and gaped at the sight before them. A vast cavern opened up in front of them, with towers rising up out of the floor and stone stairways and bridges connecting them to one another and running over the river that flowed across the bottom of the massive chamber. All of it was lit by torches burning brightly along the sides of buildings and along walkways. "It's like a city," Steve breathed, looking over the structures before them and shaking his head.

"When Erskine talked about the Red Skull having a fortress in the mountains, I never thought it would be like this," Peggy said, shaking her head. She'd been picturing something smaller and more militarily functional. This place was easily twice the size of the town around the castle.

"I'm guessing we want to head that way," Steve said, pointing to the tower in the middle. It rose up above the buildings around it, dark and heavy and imposing. Carved into the outside of it was a massive relief of snakes, twisting and writhing around one another and the building in a way that made them seem as though they were actually moving.

"I would imagine so, yes," Peggy said.

They made their way forward carefully. For all that the stronghold seemed deserted, it didn't soothe Peggy's nerves in the slightest. She kept expecting something to jump out at them from around every corner. Though they were moving quickly, it took them some time to get to the tower in the middle, and she started to wonder just what exactly they thought they were going to do. This place was absolutely massive. It would take them forever to search.

"I think we're on to something," Steve said, pointing at the ground in front of them. For the first time, Peggy saw evidence that someone else had been here—a footprint in the dirt of the floor. Several, actually, heading the same way they were going. As they followed the footprints, they spotted the occasional dark stain on the ground that Peggy suspected was dried blood. Whoever they were following seemed to have been injured.

The end of the trail led to a gated door into the tower. She and Steve circled the building, but found no other way in—not that they had really been expecting one. "Right," Peggy said, studying the gate thoughtfully. "With all the magic I can feel in the air, it's likely our presence has not gone unnoticed, but if it has, this is about to give it away," she said. She could open the door with a simple enough spell, but anyone watching for that sort of thing would detect it easily. "Are you ready?"

Steve nodded, and she cast a spell to counter the one holding the gate closed. There was a clanking sound inside the walls, and the gates swung open on silent hinges.

Light sprang to life as they stepped inside until the room was ablaze with torchlight. Instead of more of the dark stone like they were expecting, they were standing in a grand hall of gleaming white marble and gold. Rich velvet curtains hung over doorways that led to other parts of the tower. Above them was an ornate chandelier, glittering with the light of a thousand candles.

"Huh," Steve said. "Not exactly what I was expecting."

"No," Peggy agreed. "Although, I suppose, why shouldn't a dark wizard with delusions of grandeur have his own palace?"

Steve inclined his head in agreement. "It's a little overdone," he said, eyeing the walls. Just in case the carving on the outside of the building had left any room for doubt, Hydra's snake theme was clearly on display here. The walls were lined with paintings and sculptures of their emblem, the twisting snakes reproduced in gold, silver, bronze, marble, oils, fresco, wood, and stone, over and over and over again. Even the chandelier, upon closer inspection, turned out to be made of thousands of bronze snakes twisting around one another.

"The Red Skull was known for his lavish tastes," came a sudden voice from the other end of the hall. "I haven't had time to redecorate." Standing in the doorway was the Grand Duke Alexander. He was wearing a dark grey tunic with a silver snake across the front, and his hand was resting on the handle of the sword on his belt. He was staring at them the way a scientist might study a particularly interesting specimen.

Peggy felt Steve stiffen beside her, and a shiver ran up her own spine. The gate behind them closed again, rather more loudly than it had opened.

"I can't say I'm surprised that you would come here, Your Highness," Alexander said to Steve, a mocking emphasis on the title. "Though I am surprised you actually survived the journey."

"I'm not that easy to kill," Steve said.

"You certainly are a hardy little thing. Like a cockroach," he chuckled. "No doubt that has a great deal to do with your Lady Magician here," he said. He looked over at Peggy and spread his hands wide in what might have otherwise been a welcoming gesture. "My good Lady, of all the people I have underestimated, you are the most surprising. I knew you had magic from the moment I saw you, but I didn't dream of the breadth of your talents."

"You knew about me?" Peggy couldn't help asking.

"Of course."

"And you didn't turn me in?"

He smiled. "I would never turn another magician over to be executed. Not without a good reason, anyway. And it served my purpose for you to keep him alive a while longer," he said with a nod at Steve. "Although, had I known you would have the skill to save his life last week, I would have picked a different method." His smile turned predatory. "Still, it worked out in the end."

"What did you do to my brother?" Steve demanded.

"Manners, Your Grace," Alexander said with a disapproving tsk. He waved a hand and Steve made a choking sound, suddenly unable to speak. "It's rude to interrupt when other people are having a conversation."

"I don't think I have anything else to say to you," Peggy said, casting a quick sideways look at Steve to make sure he was still breathing alright.

"I still have things to say to you, though," Alexander said with a smile. "You defeated my spell once and you managed to keep him alive all the way here—you are a woman of considerable talent. I could use someone like you."

Peggy's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Are you…Are you asking me to join you?"

"I am extending the invitation," Alexander said. "There would seem to be a lot you know, but there is so much more you could learn. You would be someone worth teaching. And you can't tell me you enjoy living in fear for your life every day." He gestured to his own chest. "A new order is on the way. One where someone like you could be celebrated, rich and powerful, never mind not having to hide."

"Inviting as that future may be, I can't say I approve of your methods," Peggy said.

He chuckled. "If you want to build something new, you've got to have a strong foundation. And that requires getting down in the mud and getting dirty."

"There's not just dirt on your hands, but blood," Peggy replied.

Alexander laughed again. "Oh, more than you know. So, that would be a firm 'no', then?"

"It would."

He nodded, not seeming bothered. "I thought as much. But it seemed polite to offer. Looks like I'll be adding to the blood on my hands today, then." He raised a hand and snapped his fingers, and with a rustle of the velvet curtain behind him, James was standing by his side. He was dressed in Alexander's colors, though he wore chain mail over his tunic. A sword hung from his belt. The left side of his face was covered in a fading purple bruise, and it occurred to Peggy that he had not returned from his battle with the knights unscathed. Perhaps it was his blood that had dotted the path with the footsteps they followed. The most alarming thing about his appearance, however, was his face. Peggy suddenly understood what Morita had meant when he said he'd never seen anything so wrong—his face was devoid of any expression, but his eyes…those soulful blue eyes that should have mirrored his brother's were cold and hard, completely lifeless and yet simmering with rage at the same time.

"Bucky!" Steve called, evidently allowed to speak again.

"Oh, he doesn't answer to that anymore," Alexander said, and it was true, James hadn't even twitched. "In fact, he doesn't answer to anyone but me."

"What did you do to him?!" Steve growled.

"I fulfilled his destiny," Alexander said with a smile. "Your brother was always meant to belong to me."

"What do you mean?" Steve asked.

"Hydra was always going to rise again, but my ancestors never had the patience to play the long game," Alexander replied. "Simply defeating those who oppose you is never going to be enough—beaten men who still have their comrades can rise again to claim victory. That's where the great Red Skull went wrong," he said with a wave of his hand that took in the fortress around them. "To truly win, you must tear them apart so completely that there is nothing left to rebuild." His smile widened. "And that is where James Pendragon comes in. He is the key to Camelot's future, but also to its ruin."

"The ruling family of Camelot is held together by the slenderest of threads," Alexander explained. "Uther nearly went mad when Igraine died, and he pinned all his hopes on his beloved firstborn—his last connection to a happier time." He smiled cruelly at Steve. "You were the one who brought that happier time to an end. The first crack in Camelot's foundation appeared when you were three weeks old, and it's only been widening since. I barely had to do a thing. You might as well have died with your mother for all the faith Uther has ever been able to put in you. All that remains for me to do now…" His smile widened and he rested a hand on James's shoulder. "Is to pull out the last piece. The Pendragons are about to burn to the ground, and Hydra will emerge victorious from the ashes."

Steve was glaring at the Grand Duke, swallowing down a knot in his throat, but a light was coming on in Peggy's head. "You're one who killed the queen, aren't you?" Perhaps he hadn't done so directly—Erskine had said the magician responsible had been killed at the start of the Great Purge—but all his talk of playing the long game and cracking the Pendragons' foundations could hardly mean anything else.

Alexander laughed. "Oh, you are a clever girl," he said. "It's really a shame you don't want to work with me. The things I could do with a mind like that."

"So what you said before about not handing other magicians over to be executed wasn't exactly true, then?"

"I believe I said I wouldn't do so without a good reason," he corrected. "Setting my plan into motion was a more than adequate reason for the sacrifice. And he went willingly, pledged to die for Hydra's cause."

"How in the hell does getting magic banned from the kingdom help you?" Steve wondered. Peggy had been about to ask the same thing.

"It was worth it for the end result," Alexander said. "Uther was almost comically easy to manipulate with Igraine out of the way. Half the time, I didn't even need magic. And twenty-five years of performing magic in secret is more of an inconvenience than an actual problem when you look at the bigger picture. Besides," he said, smiling wickedly. "Think how grateful the magicians of the realm will be when I bring magic back to the land."

"Even though you were the one who caused it to be banned in the first place?" Peggy asked.

Alexander shrugged theatrically. "They don't need to know that part. And no one is going to be around to tell them—while this has been fun, I do have a revolution to attend to." He looked at James and waved a hand in their direction. "Kill them both."

James had been standing at attention almost as still as a statue, but now he sprung forward like a cat, sword raised. He'd covered half the distance between them before Peggy had even registered that he'd moved, and she reacted on instinct, flinging up a shielding spell. He hit it and flew back into the wall, but was back on his feet as quickly as if he'd been tossed into a pile of hay, not a slab of marble.

Alexander laughed. "A worthy effort, good lady, but I think you'll find he cannot be stopped by something so immaterial as pain," he said as James charged them again. "You'll have to try harder than that."

"Bucky, stop!" Steve yelled. "Stop it, please, it's me!" The only thing that saved him was some instinct to pull his sword up to block his brother's weapon, because James did not slow down. The force of the blow threw Steve to the floor, and Peggy threw another wave of magic at James to push him back and give herself time to yank Steve to his feet. She didn't throw him hard enough to hit the wall, though—they were trying to save him, after all, and just because he couldn't feel pain didn't mean it didn't damage his body.

"Run!" she yelled, pulling Steve up and along behind her. They needed space to pull themselves together and come up with a plan if they were going to have any hope of pulling this off. She pulled him to the nearest staircase and they hurried up, Alexander's laughter echoing behind them and James's feet following after.

James caught up with them three times, and Peggy tossed him back each time. Each time, Steve pleaded with him to stop, to no avail. The third time James attacked, Peggy threw him through an open door, slamming it shut and magically locking it. His sword instantly began hacking at the wood, accompanied by an animal growl, but it bought them time to get up another flight of stairs and into another room where they could barricade the door shut.

Steve was gasping for air and turning a worrying shade of grey, and Peggy quickly did the spell to open up his airways again. "Sh!" she cautioned as he gulped in a mouthful of air. "Breathe as quietly as you can."

He nodded, inhaling as silently as he could until he caught his breath. "He didn't recognize me," he whispered.

"No," Peggy whispered back. "His mind is too focused on its task in the heat of battle. We need to create a scenario where we have more time."

Steve nodded. "What about the magic? Can you undo it?"

"Again, I'm going to need time," Peggy said. She had sensed the curse on James, and even at a quick glance, she could see it was an intricate web threaded throughout every fiber of his body. If she was going to undo it, she needed to be able to focus solely on that, and not on trying to keep from getting her head cut off.

Steve nodded. "So, we need to immobilize him somehow." He looked around. "Ideally, in here, since we aren't likely to get another shot at hiding if we leave."

They considered the room they were in. It was a study of some sort—shelves of books lined the walls, and the large desk and chairs had been shoved up against the door.

"How long do you think we have?" Steve wondered.

"I would imagine he's out by now. Probably searching the floor we left," Peggy guessed. "I wouldn't think we'd have more than five minutes before he works out we went up."

The furniture shoved against the door rattled, and they both jumped.

"Or less," Peggy said, swallowing nervously. "Bloody Nora, he's fast."

"Can your magic hold him?" Steve asked as James slammed into the door again. "Like how you threw him back earlier, can you just…hold him there?"

Peggy nodded. "Start talking as soon as I catch him," she said. "I don't know how long I can do it." They'd seen already that he could simply power through things that should hurt him, and she didn't doubt he could fight his way out of her holding spell.

They backed up to the far wall, watching as the barricade against the door juddered again, one of the chairs falling away. With another shove, the door opened about a foot, forcing the heavy table back. James slammed into it again, and then there he was, advancing on them with sword raised.

Peggy flung up a spell to hold him in place, and he twisted angrily, snarling at them as his feet refused to move. "Bucky?" Steve asked cautiously, moving forward.

He snarled again and swung his sword out, though Steve was still out of reach.

"Bucky, it's me; it's Steve," he told him. "You know me, Buck. Come on; look at me."

James roared and lunged forward, ripping himself out of the holding spell and stumbling forward. He was off balance, so his sword missed Steve, but he caught him in the side of the face with his fist and Steve crumpled to the ground.

"Steve!" Peggy called, flinging up another spell and catching James again. He was caught mid-lunge this time, one foot on the floor and one up in the air.

"I'm okay!" Steve said, shoving himself back to his feet. "Buck, come on. I know you're in there," he pleaded. "You know me."

"Shut up!" James growled, swinging his sword again and missing Steve by millimeters.

"No," Steve said, stepping closer. "No, I won't shut up. I never have when you've told me to before—what makes you think I'll do it now? I'm going to keep going because I know you can hear me. I know you're in there."

James struggled against the spell and managed to take a step forward, bringing him within closer range of his brother as he slashed with his sword again. This time he didn't miss, and Steve fell to the floor with a cry of pain. Peggy redoubled her efforts to hold James back, but she sensed hesitation in his struggle as Steve cried out.

Steve seemed to have sensed it too, because he shoved himself up to his knees, clutching at his wounded arm. Fear and pain tinged his voice, but so did conviction. "Please, Bucky," he begged. "You know me. And you don't want to hurt me, do you? Wake up, Bucky, come on. I believe in you. You can do this, Buck."

James swung at him again, but was held back by the spell. "Why do you keep calling me that?" he demanded.

"Because that's your name," Steve said, getting back up on his feet.

"No, it's not," he snarled.

"It's not 'soldier'," Steve said. "Or whatever Alexander calls you. Your name is James Pendragon, and you've always been Bucky to me. Ever since I learned how to talk, that's what I called you. Do you remember that?"

James was struggling a little bit less now, though his gaze was no less murderous.

"It was the first word I ever said," Steve went on. He stepped closer to James again. "You were so proud that you were my first word that you told me to always call you that. Remember?"

James flung himself forward with an inarticulate growl, launching himself out of the grip of Peggy's spell and straight at his brother. The jolt of breaking free of the spell knocked his sword from his hand, but he swung with his fist again before she could catch him, and Steve went down in a heap. "I'm not Bucky," he snarled.

Steve was a little slower and shakier in getting to his feet this time, but he got there. "Yes, you are," he said softly, drawing a hand across his nose to dash away the blood. "You're my brother, and you're always going to be. No matter what Alexander put inside your head; no matter what he's made you do. You're always going to be Bucky, and nothing can change that. You just have to remember."

"All I know is that I'm supposed to kill you," he hissed, and Peggy had to fight to keep her hold on him.

"But you don't have to," Steve insisted. "And I know you're in there and I know you don't want to. You've never wanted to hurt me. You've always looked out for me, and now I'm here to take care of you. It's going to be okay, Bucky. It is. You just have to wake up."

The first flicker of something that wasn't that cold, dead anger glinted in James's eyes.

"Please, Bucky," Steve said, his voice wobbling just a bit. Tears of pain and sorrow were brimming in his eyes. "Please come back," he pleaded. "Come back to me. I need you. I need my brother."

Uncertainty was dancing across James's face now. He mouthed something that looked like the words 'my brother'.

"Come on, Buck," Steve said, stepping closer and putting his hands on James's arms. James reacted with a roar, lashing out and throwing Steve to the ground again. His lip was bleeding when he got up. "You can throw me down all you like, but I'm not going to stop," Steve said. "I'm never going to stop. Because you're the one who taught me how to get back up again. I can do this all day."

He stepped forward again, and James's fist tightened, then unclenched. "I—"

"You don't want to hurt me, do you?" Steve asked.

Anger lit James's face up again, but it was chased away by that growing look of uncertainty. His fist clenched and unclenched again. "I—"

"Do you?" Steve pressed.

"No," James whispered. Fear joined the uncertainty on his face, as though he wasn't sure why he'd said that.

Steve smiled warmly and gave him an encouraging nod.

"I…I know you," James said, not sounding sure about that.

"That's right. You do," Steve said. "And you know my name, don't you? What is it? Tell me my name."

James shut his eyes and shook his head. "I don't…I…" He opened his eyes. "Steve," he whispered. "You're Steve."

Steve grinned. "That's right. I'm Steve." He looked over at Peggy. "Let him go."

"I don't know if that's a good idea," Peggy said. James wasn't fighting her anymore, but he clearly wasn't himself. The way his fist was still clenching and unclenching, Peggy wouldn't put it past him to take another swing at Steve.

"It's okay," Steve told her. "Trust me."

After hesitating a moment longer, Peggy nodded and let go. James staggered a little as he regained his center of balance, but he didn't make any moves toward Steve. Steve stepped forward, one hand raised, and James watched it warily until it came to rest on his arm.

"Steve?" he asked softly, and something that was very much James flickered to life inside his eyes.

"Yeah," Steve said, smiling warmly. "Yeah, Buck, it's me. I'm here."

James almost smiled, then horror washed over his face and he pulled both arms up and shoved Steve away. "Don't touch me!" he yelled as Steve staggered back and hit the floor.

Steve was on his feet and moving for his brother again, and Peggy had her hands up and ready in case he got violent again. "It's okay, Buck," Steve said calmly. "It's okay."

"No," James shook his head, backing up a couple of paces with one arm raised to ward Steve off. "No. You stay away. I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," Steve said, still moving forward. "It's okay."

"I already did," James whispered, his eyes on the blood on his brother's face.

"That wasn't you," Steve told him. "That was the spell. You would never hurt me."

James groaned in pain and sunk to knees, clutching at the sides of his head. The spell was fighting to regain control of him, and his eyes were flashing back and forth between a very frightened James Pendragon and a very angry Hydra soldier. "What's happening to me?"

"You've been cursed," Steve said, dropping down to his knees beside him. "It was the Grand Duke Alexander—he put a spell on you, but we're going to fix it, okay?"

"No," James moaned. "No, Steve, get away from me. I can't hold it, I—I don't want to hurt you again."

Steve put his hands on the sides of James's face, tilting his head up to look at him. "I'm not going anywhere," he said firmly. "I am never, ever going to leave you. Never. It's gonna be okay."

James stared at him for a long moment, tears shining in his eyes. "Okay," he whispered.

"Okay," Steve said, smiling warmly.

He turned and nodded at Peggy. James's gaze followed Steve's as Peggy stepped forward, and as soon as his eyes landed on her, that lifeless anger was back and he threw himself at her with a growl. Thinking Steve had gotten him calmed down, she hadn't been expecting that, and she hit the ground hard, the breath going out of her as James landed on top of her. She was fighting back before he could get both of his hands around her throat, however, and she hit him hard with a burst of magic that flung him into the wall and pinned him there.

"Bucky, no!" Steve was screaming as he jumped, though Peggy already had James against the wall before Steve was all the way on his feet. He turned worried eyes to Peggy. "Are you okay?" he asked, stepping forward with a hand raised toward her neck, like he needed to check and make sure.

"I'm fine," she said.

His eyes lingered on her a moment longer, then he nodded and turned back to his brother. "Bucky?"

"I have orders," James said, struggling to get out of Peggy's holding spell.

"You don't have to follow them," Steve said. "You weren't gonna hurt me, remember? You don't have to hurt her either. This is Peggy. You remember Peggy?"

James turned his head to look at her. "No," he said coldly.

Steve looked surprised, but considering how deep the spell went, Peggy wasn't. James didn't have nearly the history with her that he did with Steve. She should have expected that.

"Okay," Steve said. "But she won't hurt you. She's a friend."

"She's my target," James insisted, one hand breaking free of the holding spell and swiping at her.

"Alright," Steve said, drawing in a deep breath. He gave a sharp nod. "Alright. Fine." He moved over so that he was directly between James and Peggy, drawing himself up to his full height. "You want to get to her, you're going to have to go through me."

"What?" James said.

"What?" Peggy echoed.

"If you want to hurt Peggy, you're going to have to hurt me first," Steve said.

"But," James began, looking for all the world like a confused child instead of a deadly warrior. "But I don't want to hurt you."

Steve nodded. "I know you don't. So that means you can't hurt her."

"I…" James stammered.

"Trust me, Bucky," Steve said.

James blinked at him sadly. "Okay," he whispered.

Steve smiled and Peggy carefully released her hold on James. He sank down until he was sitting in a little ball against the wall. "I don't understand," James said, grabbing at the sides of his head again. "I…aahh, my head," he groaned.

"It's okay, Buck," Steve said, dropping down next to him again. "It's going to be okay."

James looked up at Steve, fear and pain swimming in eyes that were still clouded by magic. "Steve, I'm scared," he breathed, his lower lip trembling.

Steve wrapped his arms around James and pulled him in against him, tucking his head under his chin. "I know," he whispered, his own voice no longer steady either. "I know. But it's going to be okay. I'm here." He closed his eyes and pressed a kiss into James's dark hair. "Your brother's got you."

Tears prickled in Peggy's eyes as the reversal of the tender scene from last week played out before her. Steve looked up at her with pleading in his eyes, and she nodded and stepped forward again.

James looked up at her uncertainly, but he stayed where he was.

"She's not gonna hurt you, Buck," Steve assured him. "I'm not gonna let anybody hurt you."

James nodded, and though he flinched when Peggy first touched him with her magic, he remained in place. Peggy could see why he was afraid of her—she'd been right that James had tried to fight Alexander's control, and the Grand Duke had responded with several nasty, painful spells to force him back into line.

"Don't worry, James," she said in her soothing healer's voice. "I'm not going to hurt you. This is going to make it all better." As a show of good faith, she pushed a little bit of healing magic into him, and the bruise on his face disappeared. He blinked at her in surprise, then took one hand off of Steve to reach up and prod gently where the bruise had been. "Will you let me help you?" she asked.

James looked at her, then nodded slowly.

"Good," she said, giving him a friendly smile. "I'm going to ask Steve to move away now, so that his being so close won't interfere with the magic I'm going to do," she said, keeping her eyes on James but knowing that framing it like that would get Steve to let go. "Don't worry," she assured James. "He's not going far. He'll be just here, waiting for you when you're done. Alright?"

James nodded nervously, and Peggy slowly began her work. She closed her eyes, shutting out James's frightened face and Steve's worried, trusting expression. She focused only on the magic she could see. A light that was James glowed brightly in front of her, but it was woven through with strands of darkness that dimmed the light. The darkness was oily and viscous, not unlike the spell she had pulled out of Steve a week ago—there was just so much more of it here. It wound its way through James's body, intertwining with his bones and lacing through the pathways of his mind until there was not a part of him left untouched. Alexander truly was a powerful magician, the strands of magic twining through James and into each other in such a way that there was no weak point for her to begin to take it apart.

Or, rather, there wouldn't have been, if not for Steve.

Once again, Peggy marveled at just how deep the connection between the brothers ran. Because there in the middle, right where the magic was strongest and where, if one was feeling poetic, one might think of as the place where the soul rested, there was a hole. The frayed strands of magic warped and folded outward, stretched to breaking by something that had been trapped beneath them that they could not contain. It was a tiny hole, but it was still a hole, and all Peggy needed was one loose thread.

She plucked at the frayed edges, making the hole bigger. It was hard going at first as the spell fought her, but the damage had already been done. She picked at the threads, pulling here and untying a knot there, and the darkness began to unravel. Soon she was able to grab several of the threads into a bundle, and she pulled at it. Slowly, she worked her way through James's body, uncoiling the little knot of threads from every part of him that they wrapped around. When at last that set of strands was free, she pushed some of her own magic into them, and they dissolved harmlessly into the air.

Returning to the hole in the middle, she picked at another section of threads and started again. Over and over she did this, untwisting the little knots of magic. She felt herself growing tired, but she didn't stop, drawing on some of the power in the eagle pendant to keep going.

It seemed like an eternity later when it was all gone—and for all Peggy knew, it had been—but she didn't stop just yet. If she left even one little thread of the dark magic behind, that would be all Alexander would need to bring the rest of it back and regain control. She drew more magic from the eagle and sent it searching through every cell of James's body, snatching up and unraveling the last little bits of darkness.

When she was positive that she'd gotten it all, she opened her eyes and let go. James was staring at her blankly with his mouth hanging open, and when she pulled the last little bit of magic out, his eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed into a heap. She staggered back a step and sat down hard on the floor, suddenly no longer able to keep standing. Steve was watching them both with wide eyes, looking terrified and frozen with the indecision of which of them to go to after they both dropped to the floor.

Peggy managed to wave an arm in James's direction, hoping that would convey that she was fine, just tired. Steve moved toward James, still watching her worriedly until he reached his brother, then he crouched down beside him and began to examine him. Seemingly satisfied with what he found, he pushed up and moved over to where Peggy was sitting.

"Are you okay?" he asked, crouching beside her and resting a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm alright," she assured him. "That was just more magic than I've ever done at one time. I could fall asleep right here on the floor if that wasn't such a colossally bad idea."

Steve managed a bit of a smile at that.

"How long did that take?" she wondered.

"About fifteen minutes," Steve replied.

Peggy's eyes widened in surprise. "Is that all? It felt like forever."

"Well, it sure was the longest fifteen minutes of my life," Steve said. He looked back over at James. "Did you get it all? Is he going to be okay?"

"The spell's gone," Peggy said. "There's a lot he has to heal from yet, but he's free."

Steve nodded. "Thank you," he told her, his voice wobbling with sincerity. "Thank you."

She nodded, smiling warmly. For a moment, they simply sat there looking at each other. "Let me go ahead and get you sorted out, then," she said, lifting a hand up to his face. The side of his face where James had struck him was already turning a dark shade of purple, the cut across his cheek leaking blood as the skin swelled up and pulled away from the edges of the wound. Tacky, semi-dried blood covered his upper lip and part of his chin, and Peggy didn't miss the way he barely used his left arm where the sword had gotten him, though how deep of a wound that one was remained to be seen.

"No," Steve said, pulling out of reach. "I'm okay."

"Steve, you look dreadful."

"I'm alright," he insisted. He looked at her sadly. "You worked so hard to take care of James; I don't want to make it worse. I'll manage."

"Steve, I'll be fine. It's a small amount of magic compared to all of that," she said, waving a hand in James's direction. When Steve looked as though he was going to protest again, she said, "James is going to have a hard enough time as it is when he wakes up. Think how badly he'll feel when he looks at you and is reminded of what he did." It was a bit of a low card to play, but it worked, and Steve nodded.

The bloody nose and bruises were a cinch to fix up, and even the cracked cheekbone underneath the bruise, but she couldn't stop herself rolling her eyes when she got to his arm. "You're an idiot, you know that?" she told him. With magic, it was a simple enough wound to fix, but left alone, he would have started feeling the effects of the blood loss soon. "Were you just going to tie that up when you thought I wasn't looking and hope for the best?"

"Maybe," Steve mumbled.

"I'm half-tempted to leave it. Serves you right if you get gangrene," she snapped.

"I'm sorry," Steve said. "I am! I just…Peggy, what you just did was one of the scariest-looking things I've ever seen, and you're still as white as a sheet. I didn't want to make it worse."

Her glare softened, touched by his genuine concern. "Thank you," she said. "I appreciate the concern, but I need you to trust me to know what I can handle."

"I do," Steve said. "I'm sorry."

He let her heal the wound in his arm, then she pulled a bit more magic from one of the pendants so her hands would stop shaking and she could get up to check on James. "Oh," she breathed sadly as her hand came to rest on his shoulder.

"What? What is it?" Steve asked.

"He's just…" Peggy sighed. "I can't imagine the pain he's been in. The curse kept him fighting through it, but that fight with the knights and whoever else Alexander has sent him after? He came out of it injured. The spell just forced him to carry on." She shook her head, wondering if Alexander had been intending to do any sort of healing work on his new soldier before attacking Camelot, or if he'd simply planned to have James fight until he dropped.

"Will he be okay?" Steve asked worriedly.

"He will," Peggy said, reaching out with her magic to heal his battered body. "It will be a long recovery ahead of him. But I think if you could get him through this, you can pull him through that," she told Steve with an encouraging smile. Her work done for the moment, she sat back, and they both watched James sleep, the pained lines in his face disappearing.

"So, uh, what happens next?" Steve wondered. "Alexander is still out there somewhere."

"Yes," Peggy agreed. "And he's bound to notice soon that something has gone wrong."

Steve nodded. "So, how do we fight a magician?" He looked at her thoughtfully. "How was the Red Skull defeated?"

"A wagon wheel to the back of the head, if you can believe it," she said. "Of course, he'd been worn down by days of heavy magical and physical combat prior to that, but that was what struck the killing blow."

"Guess we don't have any of those around, huh?"

"No," Peggy agreed with a smile. The smile disappeared. "How are we going to get out of here?"

"I don't know," Steve said. "But I don't want to get caught hiding up here."

"No," Peggy agreed. She drew in a deep breath. "I suppose we should start moving and hope for the best."

Steve nodded, and together they got underneath James's arms and got him to his feet.

"Let me take him," Steve said, shifting so that the bulk of his brother's weight was leaning on him.

"Steve, I can help," Peggy said, irritated that he was worried about over-tiring her again.

"I know," Steve said. "But if we run into Alexander, your magic is going to be a lot more useful than my sword is," he told her. "I mean, I'll fight him if you think it will help, but I think you should keep your hands free."

"Oh," Peggy said, feeling her cheeks color slightly. He did have a good point, and she should have thought of that. "Alright. Keep your sword ready, though," she added. "We might very well need it."

Steve nodded, and he held his sword drawn in one hand, while the other held securely to his brother. It looked cumbersome, but Peggy didn't doubt his ability to do it.

They made their way slowly into the hallway, and then down the stairs. James came somewhat awake as they moved—not enough to really be called conscious, but he was able to take some of his own weight and shuffle his feet, which made it easier for Steve to move.

The fact that they didn't run into anyone on the way downstairs didn't make either of them feel better. There was only one way out of the tower, and Alexander knew it. He could use magic to find them or chase them around, but the simplest thing to do would be to wait.

"Do you think he knows about Bucky?" Steve asked quietly, hitching his shoulder up to adjust his grip on James.

"I imagine so," Peggy said. "I don't know if he was monitoring the spell somehow, but in either case, the fact that James hasn't killed us and returned by now has probably tipped him off."

"And I doubt he's happy about it," Steve said. He looked up at Peggy. "This is going to get ugly, isn't it?"

Peggy nodded.

"What can I do to help?"

Peggy sighed. "I don't know. I don't really even know what I'm going to do."

Steve nodded.

"Just stay on your toes, hey?"

Steve smiled. "I'm always ready. Just say the word."

Peggy's senses were on high alert as they approached the ground level. Her nerves were tingling, trying to pick up any hint of magic on the air—but would that do any good, though? She hadn't known Alexander had magic before, and even Erskine had been fooled. Would she sense anything now?

When she did feel magic, there was so much of it all at once that it was overwhelming, and she wasn't sure where it was coming from. There wasn't much time to think about it, however, because she was falling forward and throwing her hands up to stop from smashing her face into the stairs. With an alarmed grunting noise, James had lurched away from Steve, and since he was too heavy for Steve to pull back upright, the two of them had crashed forward into Peggy's back. James grabbed Peggy's arm tight enough to leave a bruise and dragged her down with them, all three of them hitting the floor with a painful thump. At the same moment they hit the ground, heat and noise seared over them as a fireball exploded into the wall.

"Seen that one b'fore," James slurred into her shoulder. "Sorry 'f I hurt you."

Steve looked like he wanted to take a moment and be overjoyed that his brother was conscious and speaking again, but he had landed on top of the pile and was the one best suited to react when Alexander roared angrily and threw another fireball at them. A nearby suit of armor had toppled over with the first explosion, and Steve rolled to grab the shield that had fallen from its hands and pull it up in front of them. Peggy and James instinctively curled up to get behind it, and Steve yelled as the heat from the flames travelled through the metal and began to burn his hands, but he didn't let go.

Peggy sprang to her feet as soon as the fire died down. Alexander was stalking toward them, fury blazing in his eyes. "You!" he snarled. He flung another fireball in her direction, but Peggy was ready this time, and she blocked it and sent it flying back at him. He dodged it easily and chuckled manically. "Oh, you're going to have to do better than that, little girl."

"It seems I'm doing alright so far," Peggy replied, sounding far braver than she felt. The power she sensed coming off of him was staggering, and taunting him felt incredibly foolish. She could never beat him head-on, but perhaps she could get him to use up some of that power in irritation? It wasn't the best plan, since it relied on her surviving said irritation, and he'd proved dangerous enough when he was in control of his emotions, but it wasn't as though she had a lot of options. She pulled herself up a little straighter. "I did manage to free the prince, after all. Perhaps you're the one who needs to do a little better."

Alexander chuckled again, but Peggy could tell she'd struck a nerve. "I really did underestimate you, didn't I? I won't be making that mistake again." His eyes glowed gold, and two massive marble carvings came barreling away from the wall straight toward her. Peggy flung up her hands with a counter curse that shattered them to dust before they crushed her between them. Alexander laughed. "I'm going to kill you, and I'm going to enjoy it very much. Then I'm going to take James and make him watch while I kill his brother in front of him before I bend him back to my will again." The marble tile cracked and split open in front of her, and Peggy scrambled back to keep from falling in the hole. "You've saved no one," he said. "Hydra will rise again."

"We'll see about that," Peggy replied. She ducked and rolled to avoid another fireball, coming to a stop by the pillar where Steve had dragged James out of the way.

"Peggy, what the hell are you doing?" Steve hissed.

"Trying to make him angry," she replied.

"Why?!"

"To make him lose control and to make him use up some of that power he has stored up. I don't have a shot otherwise."

"Yeah, okay," he said, though he didn't look happy about it. He grabbed Peggy's arm and yanked her back, throwing up his arm with the blackened shield he'd held on to as a swarm of little blades came flying at them. The impact of all of them hitting his shield made him flinch. "Can I help?" he asked. "I'm pretty good at annoying him."

"That could get you killed."

"And that's different from what he's trying to do to you how?"

He had a point. And perhaps they could get Alexander to split his focus. "Alright," she said. "Just…Try to stay behind things so he can't hit you." They wanted to split Alexander's focus, not hers, and if she was worried about fighting and protecting Steve, she'd be at a disadvantage. (Although, if it came to that, protecting Steve would win out every time.)

Steve smiled. "You too."

"Hey," James rasped. Peggy was worried he was going to try to join in the fight too—and he was more entitled to be angry with Alexander than any of them, but he couldn't even stand—but it seemed he knew better than to try. "You wanna annoy him, say something about how he's not that great. Been listening to him talk for days—thinks he's the greatest thing since the pointed arch."

"We'll do that," Steve nodded. "You stay back here and stay down. If you get yourself blown up, I'm gonna kill you."

"You be careful too, Stevie," he said with a ghost of his old smile.

They moved out from behind the pillar, Peggy in one direction and Steve in another. "Oh, look," Alexander said. "The little cockroach is coming out from under his rock."

"Yeah, well, you were having such a hard time killing me, I thought I'd even the playing field for you," Steve replied.

The marble floor beneath Steve surged up like a tidal wave, lifting him up in the air, but Steve threw his weight back so he slid down the back of it instead of closer to Alexander. "The arrogance of the Pendragons astounds me," Alexander said. "Each one of you thinking he's untouchable."

"You're talking about arrogance?" Peggy taunted. Alexander whipped his head around to face her. "I've seen some awfully big talk with not much in the way of results." She smirked. "And there are so many men who suffer the same problem, don't you agree?"

"That's an awfully cocky mouth you have for someone so out of her depth," he shot back, along with a spell that brought a pillar toppling in her direction. She rolled and shot a burst of magic at the pillar as it fell, and it exploded into chunks of debris. Some of the smaller ones caught her in the cheek as they blew back at her, and she winced as she thought she heard Steve yelp as one caught him, but she also heard a cry of pain from Alexander.

Shoving herself to her feet and ducking behind another one of the pillars, she looked out to see Steve was still standing, and Alexander was dusty and bleeding. Alexander grunted and flinched, and Peggy almost laughed when she looked over and saw Steve throwing little pieces of one of the broken statues at him. Steve's aim was very good, and he got him in the face with each one. "Enough!" Alexander roared as one of the pieces hit him in the eye. "I've been wanting to kill you for years, you self-righteous little whelp! And I intend to enjoy it!" He waved his hand, and Peggy gasped in horror as all the snakes carved into the chandelier above them came alive and rained down from the ceiling. Steve cried out and fell to the ground, disappearing underneath the mass of wriggling bodies.

Peggy reacted without thinking, reaching into the mound of snakes with her magic and yanking Steve forward. He flew towards her so quickly that he crashed into her and knocked her over. The snakes slithered along at lightning speed behind him, and Peggy reacted again and sent a rift splintering across the floor from wall to wall. Several of the snakes pitched forward into the pit in their haste, but the rest stopped, hissing angrily from the opposite edge. Peggy wrapped an arm around Steve's waist and pulled him further back anyway.

"Are you alright?" Peggy asked. He was panting unevenly. "Did any of them bite you?"

He couldn't quite seem to catch his breath, but he looked down at his arm where the chain mail had been torn when James struck him with the sword earlier. Peggy had healed the wound, but blood was pouring from his arm again, dozens of bite marks puncturing his skin. When he turned his head, Peggy could see more on the back of his neck, the skin around the bites already turning sickly and green. Without another word, she brought a hand up to his face and forced healing magic into the wounds.

"Peggy," he coughed. "You need to save your magic."

"I need to save you," she shot back. "My magic's no good to me without you."

"Oh, that is just precious!" Alexander crowed from the other side of the hole across the floor. He was watching them with a delighted, evil smile. "The peasant girl and the prince. You know, if I wasn't going to have James cut his heart out, I would be tempted to let the two of you live just so Uther could see this." He laughed. "But the time for playing games is over now."

Just like that, his laughter died away, and Peggy felt the floor roll beneath them. The marble swelled and shoved a pillar of stone up between her and Steve, forcing them apart before it rolled like water and tossed Steve away to the opposite wall. The bronze sculptures of snakes twisted to catch him and wrapped around his body, holding him in place. Peggy was flung back the other way, crying out in pain as she hit a wall. "Let's finish this, you and I," Alexander said, and he was whispering, but Peggy felt the words vibrating in her bones.

The air started pulsing around her, humming with magic, and all the lights seemed to grow dimmer, leaving just the Grand Duke Alexander, bathed in a malevolent glow of light. He looked like he was floating. He was getting closer, or maybe he was pulling Peggy closer to him, but at any rate, he was right in front of her now. He reached out his hands, locking them around her wrists like a vice.

"Get your hands off me," Peggy snapped, yanking her arms back.

"Make me," he hissed, gripping her wrists tighter.

"Fine. I will."

Peggy called on the magic in the eagle pendant, and power rushed up through her arms and into her hands. Alexander hissed and pulled his hands back as though he'd been burned. He moved to attack, but she was attacking too, and their magic collided like a thunderclap that sent a tidal wave of power rolling out through the ruined hall. For long minutes, they just stood there, each pressing up against the other with their magic, waiting to see who would yield.

Peggy knew she couldn't keep this up forever. Even with the reserves of power Erskine had given her, Alexander had more power by far, and she could feel the power in the eagle pendant starting to wane. She pushed harder, draining the pendant faster, but making him back up just a little and giving her space to think. She couldn't beat him in a show of strength, but what else could she try? No one was unbeatable, not even the Red Skull. And what did she know about Alexander? He wanted power. He worked alone. He thought highly of himself. It would stand to reason, then, that if there was anything he was using to amplify his own power—and he must be, because he was strong, certainly, but he should be tiring at least a little by now—if he was using something to amplify his power, that it would be close at hand. He wouldn't trust it to anyone else, and it would have to be small enough that he could conceal it.

His ring.

What was it he'd said, that it was part of his family crest? A family that had been part of Hydra for generations. And hadn't she thought the carved snake looked as though it was alive?

Alexander bore back down on her, but she knew what she was after now. She looked, not with her eyes, but with magic, and she saw it, the power emanating from the ring like a beacon. She looked closer, taking in every detail, and the moment cost her—she felt herself sinking to her knees, the tile cracking beneath her as his power pressed her down—but she had found what she was looking for.

No magical artifact, no matter how powerful, was invincible. And the ring, though it held more power than Peggy could wrap her mind around, was old, worn by generations of evil magicians, and it bore the battered marks of a long life. There was a line, right below where the left fang was carved that would have looked like an elongating of the tooth if you didn't know better. But it was a crack. A teeny, tiny chip that didn't hamper the aesthetics of the piece at all and was small enough not to impede the function. But it was a flaw. A tiny imperfection that Peggy's magic could settle itself down into.

She had to empty the eagle pendant to do it, but she was able to force her magic into the little crack, pouring all of her energy into it. Distantly, she was aware of the pain in her body as Alexander crushed into her with his magic, but she shut it out. There was nothing but the crack in the ring, and as she forced her way inside, she found something very familiar.

"Hello, there," Peggy said. The magic inside the ring was dark, viscous and oily, just like she'd seen in his other spells. "I think we've met before. And I think I know how you work."

The eagle pendant depleted, she reached out for the magic in the blue jewel. Instead of pulling it out in bits, Peggy drew in as much of the magic as she felt she could hold without bursting. The distant pain stopped abruptly, and she thought she heard Alexander cry out in surprise. She sent everything she felt inside her crashing forward like a tidal wave, and the crack in the ring burst open like a dam.

"What did you do?!" Alexander roared. The sticky black magic exploded out of his ring, too much for him to stem the flow. His power was vanishing before her eyes, draining away into the ground. She almost thought the hall was groaning as the floor drank it all in.

"I stopped Hydra," Peggy said. "Looks like you'll have to find some other way to prove you're worth something."

"I don't need the power in the ring to kill you," he hissed. The ring was dead, drained to a blackened husk, but there was his own power still to contend with. Peggy staggered back under his new assault, then drew from the blue jewel until she couldn't hold any more again and flung him back.

Again and again they repeated the action, each using more and more force, and each growing more and more tired. Peggy could sense Alexander's strength dropping, but hers was too, the blue jewel quickly depleting as she continued to pull enormous amounts of power from it. It was a matter of endurance now. Who had enough power to outlast the other?

Wherever her body was, Peggy felt like it was shaking, and even looking at the world through the eyes of magic, she was starting to see spots swim across her vision. She had never done this much magic in her life, let alone all at one time, and even with the help of the blue jewel, her body was feeling the toll. She shook more as the blue jewel started to die out, giving up the last of its power just as Alexander sank to his knees, spent.

Peggy dropped down, unable to keep herself up any longer. Alexander let out an inhuman growl and sprang forward, his magic exhausted but his rage enlivened. A sword was in his hands, and Peggy couldn't think of where he got it, could barely even see it coming as the world went blurry around her, but she had just a little bit of her own magic left, and she lashed back with every piece of it she had. It caught Alexander in the midsection and flung him back. He sailed over the rift she'd created in the floor earlier and crashed down into the mass of snakes that had once been the chandelier. They were still hissing and writhing angrily, and he disappeared beneath the mound of them almost at once. Peggy might have heard him scream—it was hard to tell over the pounding of her heart in her ears. A pounding that was steadily turning to a warm, welcoming silence that accompanied the soothing grey fog rolling over her vision. Peggy wasn't sure if she was dying, but if she was, well, it was far less unpleasant than she would have expected.

She hoped Steve and James got home alright.

The next thing she was aware of thinking was that if she was dead, it was turning out to be rather unpleasant after all. Her entire body ached. She was dreadfully thirsty. It was cold. And it was hardly a peaceful rest with that buzzing sound going on.

She tried to slip back into the warm silence of earlier, but her aches and pains and the buzzing persisted. And the buzzing…It was slowing down and coming into focus, and it wasn't actually buzzing, was it? It was someone speaking, though she couldn't make out the words. Something touched her cheek, and it was warm and soft, and Peggy rolled her face towards it, trying to get closer.

"Peggy?" a familiar voice asked, sounding worried and hopeful all at once. Wait, she knew that voice. And among all the aches and pains she was feeling, she felt a new pain, a sharp one. That voice sounded terribly frightened, and that hurt more than anything else did. She needed to…She needed to fix that. Wait, her eyes were closed, weren't they? Opening them would be the first step, then.

Heavily, as if they were weighted down with bags of sand, her eyelids reluctantly opened. At first, everything was just foggy, but as she forced herself to blink a few times, the scene before here started to coalesce into something decipherable. She'd been right, that was Steve's voice that she'd been hearing, as well as his hand on her cheek, and there was his face, hovering over her, pale and anxious, worried blue eyes blazing down at her from beneath those lovely eyelashes.

"Hello," she said.

"Peggy?" he whispered. Right next to the blue of his eyes was a harsh streak of red, and as Peggy finally realized it was blood, a barely closed-over wound, everything that had just happened came screaming back.

"Steve!" she exclaimed, sitting bolt-upright and instantly regretting moving so quickly. Time to worry about that later, though. "Are you alright?"

Steve stared at her in shock for a moment, then started laughing a little hysterically. "Am I alright?" he repeated. "You're the one who went head to head with an evil magician and has been dead to the world for two days. Am I alright," he scoffed. "Peggy, I…you…" He swallowed hard. "I thought you were gonna die," he whispered.

"I thought that too, for a bit," Peggy said.

"You're alive," Steve said softly.

"I'm alive," she repeated, both for his benefit and hers.

He stared at her a moment longer, then his hands were on her face and he was kissing her like his life depended on it. She let out a squelched squawk of surprise and he stopped and started to pull away, but she flung her arms around him to stop him going anywhere and started kissing him back.

She reluctantly pulled away when Steve's breath started sounding a little reedy, but Steve kept one hand on her cheek and she didn't go far. Water was glistening in Steve's eyes, and he was smiling at her with the most beautiful smile she'd ever seen.

"You're alive," he said in amazement.

"So are you," she breathed.

He leaned in and kissed her again, softly this time, and a shiver ran down Peggy's body straight into her toes. "I love you," he whispered when he pulled away.

Peggy blinked in surprise. "You what?"

"I love you," he said again. "I should have told you that a long time ago, and all my reasons for not doing it seem pretty stupid right now."

"So do mine," Peggy said, and if she'd thought his smile was beautiful before… "Steve, I love you too." He leaned in and kissed her again, long and slow and good.

"Well, it's about time," said a voice from behind them, accompanied by another deeper voice chuckling. Steve spun his head around so quickly he nearly crashed his chin into hers, but she had fortunately pulled back to look over his shoulder. James was sitting on the other side of the fire she had also just noticed, grinning at them widely, and Dugan was sitting beside him.

"Excuse me?" Peggy said.

"I've had entire relationships that have been shorter than the amount of time you two have spent making sheep's eyes at each other," James informed them, poking a stick into the fire.

"Bucky!" Steve protested in the embarrassed, not-quite-whine of a little brother.

"Let him laugh," Peggy said as he and Dugan proceeded to do so. "He's not kissing anyone right now, is he?"

"With that mustache? Hell, no," James said as Dugan looked over at him with a grin. He turned his eyes back to the two of them. "Seriously, though. This?" He waved at the two of them. "This is great," he said warmly.

Steve looked back at Peggy. "Yeah, it is," he said softly.

Peggy smiled and kissed him quickly. "It is," she agreed. She arched a questioning eyebrow. "Seeing as I've already been hiding my magic from your father, are we going to have to hide this from him too?"

Steve laughed. "Why bother? He's never approved of any of my choices—no point in worrying about it now. Besides," he added, getting to his feet and putting his hands under her arms to help her up too. "You did just save the entire kingdom, so…" He shrugged. "Who knows? He might like you better than me now," he teased, and she laughed.

She was glad Steve was there to help her to her feet, because her body chose that moment to remind her how tired she was. She was shaking something awful, but thankfully, they weren't going far. Now that she was able to have a proper look around, Peggy realized she had been lying on some sort of litter near the fire. Behind Dugan and James was the tent, and there was a pot of some sort stewing over the fire. Beyond the tent were Onyx, Lily, and another horse that Peggy assumed was either Dugan's or had been stolen from wherever Alexander had kept his horses in what had evidently been their escape. They clearly weren't inside the mountain stronghold anymore, though Peggy had no idea where they were. One patch of snow-covered woods looked very much like another, but at least she couldn't feel any of that dark magic, so they must have been some distance away from Redhaven.

Steve helped her to one of the fallen logs by the fire, then sat down beside her. He tugged her in against his side and wrapped an arm around her, which was nice because she was slumping over sideways somewhat, but it was also just…nice. She snuggled a little closer.

James got up and got her a bowl of stew, which Steve held while she maneuvered the spoon. "So, I feel I've missed a few things," she said.

The rest of them took turns filling her in on what had happened. It would seem one of the waves of magical energy she and Alexander had been throwing at one another had hit the bronze snakes that had been holding Steve to the wall, warping them and giving him space to wriggle free. He'd returned to James's side, rather than try to interrupt the battle. Alexander had indeed been devoured by the horde of snakes, and while it was a gruesome end, Peggy had trouble feeling bad about it.

Steve had had rather a difficult time working out what to do next, as James didn't have the strength to move and Peggy was unconscious. She detected a little waver in his voice as he went back over that part, but he had managed to move her over to where James was lying. James had given him directions to where Alexander kept his horses, and Steve had gone and fetched one and brought it back into the hall. (He pointed out here that despite belonging to an evil magician, the horse was a lovely creature. He had already named her Jasmine.) Together, James and Steve had managed to get James on the horse, and then Peggy up where James could hold her. Steve had led the horse out, reaching up occasionally to steady one of them, and he had run into Dugan as he got back to where Onyx and Lily were still tied. Dugan had been on his way to help, and he'd quickly helped Steve situate things so they could travel more easily (including building the litter Peggy had been lying on), and they'd set out, trying to put as much distance between themselves and the stronghold as they could before nightfall.

Alexander's soldiers were out there somewhere, as were the rest of the knights of Camelot, but they'd been camped here for two days, waiting for James to get some of his strength back and for Peggy to wake up. She could see, looking at him now, that though he was able to move, there was still a tremor there when he sat still; and though he was laughing and smiling, there was a haunted shadow behind his eyes. Both would heal in time, she knew—and once she regained her strength, she might be able to speed it along. Dugan seemed well enough, if a tad hungry and cold, and though Steve was sporting cuts and bruises of his own, he seemed alright too.

"I remembered which medicines you gave me," he told her. "For my joints and my breathing and everything. So, I went into your trunk and got them out and I've been taking them. I hope you don't mind me going through your stuff," he added a bit sheepishly. "I figured we were in bad enough shape as it was without me going down too."

Peggy smiled at him. "No, I don't mind. It was a good call. And you're really alright?"

"I'm really alright," he assured her. "Stiff and sore and tired, but alright."

"I'd offer to help," she said. "But I think I would fall asleep mid-spell. It's going to take me a while to build up the strength for any sort of significant magic again."

"Don't worry about it," he said, picking up her hands and kissing her fingers. He shifted the arm he had around her waist and tugged her closer into him. "I'm fine. It's my turn to take care of you for a while."

Peggy smiled at him tiredly. (Bloody Nora, she'd been awake for, what, an hour? And she was already having trouble keeping her eyes open.) "Thank you, my darling," she said softly. That beautiful smile stretched across his face again, and Dugan and James began politely making a great deal of noise as they cleared up the remains of the stew. She nuzzled her head closer into his shoulder. "You know," she told him sleepily. "Earlier, when we were trying to keep each other warm, I was thinking how nice it was to hold you, and that I should like to do it again sometime in a less life-or-death situation."

Steve smiled. "Oh, yeah?"

"Mm," she agreed. She yawned. "As it turns out, being held by you is also very nice."

Steve leaned in and kissed her forehead gently. "I don't know that I ever felt more at home, or more safe than I did when you were holding me," he told her, the firelight dancing in his eyes. "And to say that I've thought about holding you, well…" That sheepish smile was back. "I've thought about it a lot. It's even better than I imagined."

Peggy smiled and stretched up to kiss him before snuggling back into his shoulder and shutting her eyes. "I do love you," she sighed. "I'm very glad we've both lived long enough to get the chance to say it."

"Me too," he replied. She felt his lips on her forehead again, warm and soft as he pressed another kiss there. "You can go ahead and go to sleep," he told her, stroking a hand gently over her hair. "I've got you, and I love you. And we're going to get to keep telling each other that for a long time."


Ta-dah! So, yes, that one was a little on the long side-I told you it kind of got away from me-but everything turned out well in the end.

Next up...I'm not sure. I have, like, three half-written ideas, and I have no idea which one will get finished first. The muse bounces around, so I don't want to promise a topic only for her to switch gears. But either way, there's more to come! Thanks so much for following along!