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Chapter 37

Servant of the Queen

He fell through time…

He did not dream at first, he merely drifted in the darkness. He thought this place was death, but then he remembered what it really was, for he had been here before. This was the Place Between. Between life and death, between time and space…between memory and pain. How long he drifted, he could not say. Hours, or perhaps eons. He knew if he stayed much longer, he would not come back…and still he drifted.

Slowly, memory returned, beginning with it his name. Steve Rogers. He was named for a grandfather he never knew. Memory of others came, their faces flickering like candles in the night. His mother, with a deep sadness in her eyes; Gail, whose lovely face he could no longer remember with his waking mind; Peggy, Buck…and then Jackie. She was young and beautiful, standing on the shores of Dover. Storm clouds lashed the sky and waves pounded the white rocks where she stood. He screamed her name, but the words froze to silence. Darkness returned. His world became ice, and the ice drifted…

An age passed, and light pervaded the darkness. He saw Sharon, and his heart shattered the ice. He called to her, but she could not hear him; a veil had dropped between them. He longed to hold her, to kiss her, to tell her he loved her. A deep pain pierced his heart, born of the fear he would never see her again. He saw Sam, and Clint, and others he knew and loved, but no one could hear him. His voice was swallowed up, disappearing into the yawning void before him…

It was the Place Beyond.

Steve did not fear it, for it was a place of rest, and he was so tired. When he finally reached its shores, he could set down the burden he had carried so long. He never complained of that burden, knowing it was an honor to bear it, just as he knew he was only one in a long line of people called upon to serve, for every generation needs its heroes. Still, it was a wearing burden, and he longed to pass it on. As he drifted onward, he glanced back a final time upon the world…

The world was gone. Desolation was everywhere. The skies were red, and the red was endless. It was the red of rust, the red of ruin, the red of blood gone rancid. The red of damnation. The earth was rent, the sky scorched, and the sea was as dust, for it, too, was red. The backs of the people were bent, and their wailing fell like a pitiful rain upon a raging inferno, a fire unquenchable and ravenous. And behind the fire and the smoke and the ruination, loomed a monolithic skull, which was not a skull at all, but a vessel for some formless thing beyond the confines of the earth. It did not belong here, this thing, yet here it was, seeking to put all life under its dominion. Steve looked upon it, and his soul shivered. It was only a shadow of what could be, but it was a terrible shadow, with a terrible power behind it. It was his duty to face that power, to stand between it and the world, and wipe its red stain from existence…but he was so very tired.

A hand fell on his shoulder. Steve turned, seeing Bucky. They stood overlooking the meadow of his uncle's farm. There was no red in the sky, only blue. Here were only good things. Miles distant, a summer storm rumbled, watering the earth, while song sparrows called from the big woods turned golden in the afternoon haze. The sweet smell of summer clover filled the air. A boy born in the city, Steve had come to love that smell.

"It's really beautiful here," Bucky said.

They looked out over the green fields, listening as thunder rolled in the distance. Finally, Bucky spoke again.

"You have to go back. I'm sorry."

Steve bowed his head. "I'm so tired. I don't know if I can."

Bucky turned and hugged him, something he never did in life. Men of their generation didn't do such things, though why, Steve could not recall. Stepping back, Bucky rolled up his sleeve, revealing a scar twisting up his arm, faded with time, but a grim reminder of the past.

"Remember this?"

"Hurtgen. We caught hell that day."

"Twenty-six straight hours of combat," Bucky said. "The shrapnel hit me around hour ten. I knew I was done for, only you wouldn't let me quit. Every time I wanted to lie down, you grabbed me by the collar and said, 'just a little farther, you can make it'. When I couldn't go any further, you threw me over your shoulder and carried me. The SS were on our tail the whole way, laying down fire. I told you to let me go…but you kept saying, 'just a little farther', until, finally, we were back behind lines."

Bucky rolled his sleeve back down. "You just need to go a little farther. You can make it. It's like I said last time. You're the one."

Steve wiped a tear from his eye, and laughed. "All right, but afterwards, I'm taking a long vacation."

Bucky joined him in laughter. "I'll be waiting for you, pal."

They embraced for the final time. As Bucky turned to go, Steve called out, halting him.

"Sir Richard's book? What was I supposed to find there about the Skull?"

Bucky turned, flashing his cocky grin. "What, you think just 'cause I'm dead I have all the answers?"

Steve laughed. "Come on, you have to give me something."

"Honest, I really don't know. But your granddaughter does. When the time comes, she'll help you."

And suddenly, Steve knew. His eyes went wide with wonder. "Emily…"

Bucky nodded. "She's a special girl, part of the Old World, part of the New. Got a little science in her blood, and a little magic. When you face the Skull, you won't be alone. We'll all be standing with you. Destroy him, Steve, save the world. Do it for her…and for all the life that's yet to come."

"I will. I swear it."

Bucky turned and walked to the fields below, where the rain fell in gentle waves. He looked over his shoulder. "It never really ends, you know…"

The shimming curtain of rain enveloped Bucky, and he disappeared. The rain continued up the hill, until it fell over Steve, dissolving everything in a soft glow of silver light. For the third and final time, Steve Rogers returned from the shadow of death. It would be hours until he awoke, and when he did, the battle for the fate of the world would begin.

. . .

Hydra Command Center

The Skull stood in the silent room, mastering his anger. An icy calm settled over him, and he pressed the intercom.

"Send her in."

The door opened, and Viper entered. She stood before him in silence. Despite his anger, he could not help but admire her. Fear did not make her blubber stupidly as it did most fools. He broke the quiet, speaking in soft, low tones.

"If he dies, so will you."

"I did only as you asked."

The Skull slapped her, a fractional display of his strength. She flew across the room, slamming into the wall, the windows rattling from the impact. She picked herself up from the floor, cold defiance flickering in her emerald eyes.

"It was your order that he witness the explosion," she said, wiping the thread of blood from the corner of her mouth. "How did you expect he would react?"

"I did not expect you to be so asininely stupid as to kill him!"

Viper straightened. "He lives. I did only as you asked."

He stalked towards her, his clenched fist raised in fury.

"Do you dare tempt fate?"

"Yes! I dare! For ten years, I have been your lover, taking your rewards when you feel magnanimous, your abuse when you feel petulant! Half of what you have built here is my doing! This dread thing before which all the world trembles! Let them think Hydra is you alone…but I know the truth! Yes, damn you, I dare!"

Silence hung in the air. Viper trembled, in fear, anger, pride. The Skull stared at her for several long seconds before his words came.

"Satan himself would admire your gall. Should I kill you…or make you my queen?"

Viper smoothed her hair. "Do neither until the world is yours—for it can still be lost. Or do you think otherwise?"

"No. I do not think otherwise. It can still be lost," he admitted.

She stepped closer. "Then let me help you win it," she said, ambition sparkling her words like hammered steel on the anvil. "For I dare anything."

The intercom flashed. It was Lerner. The Skull snapped it on.

"How is he?"

"It was touch and go," Lerner replied. "But he has stabilized. I can report with confidence that Captain America will live. Within twenty-four hours, he will be fully recovered."

"Doctor, whatever in the world would I do without you? Keep me posted."

The Skull snapped off the connection. Taking the handkerchief from his pocket, he walked back to Viper, and gently wiped the blood from her mouth.

"And whatever in the world would I do without you, my dear? You were correct…the fault was mine. I lose all objectivity where my brother is concerned. It has cost me in the past."

"Then kill him now," Viper pleaded. "Why take this foolish chance?"

The Skull shook his head.

"You offer wise council, but in this one matter, I set aside all council save my own. I cannot treat my brother as simply another petty annoyance, to be dispatched without regard. I…owe him better than that. However, I also owe you better."

He dropped to one knee. "Will you accept my apology for treating you so roughly?"

Viper was stunned into a long silence. "Y…yes."

Taking her hand, he kissed it, and then looked at her solemnly. "I will not foreswear you your share of the glory. Pledge yourself to me now, and I will pledge myself to you…my queen."

Viper stared, dumbstruck. She had never heard him speak so sincerely, nor apologize—to anyone, for any reason. As she groped for a reply, a Hydra officer walked in, snapping off a salute. He noticed the scene, and froze in place.

"My lord, forgive me."

The Skull looked at him. "Speak, Klaus."

"Osborne and Octavius have arrived. You wished to be notified right away. I should have called first, forgive my intrusion," he said, bowing low.

"You did only as I ordered," the Skull said, looking at Viper with emphasis. Rising, he turned to the man. "You've done well, Klaus. Take them to the conference room, I will be there shortly."

"Yes, my lord. Hail Hydra!"

As Klaus left the room, Viper spoke.

"You shouldn't keep them waiting, Johan. These are important men, who require attention and flattery—especially Osborne. He fancies himself a genius, and a warlord. With him you must—"

"Yes, I read your profiles. You have a meeting of your own, do you not, with emissaries of the Hand?"

Viper nodded "They will arrive soon, I should go prepare."

"Of course…but come see me tonight, and give me your answer."

The Skull bowed to her, a small move, but gracefully done, and then left the room. For several long minutes Viper stood in utter stillness and silence, a confused display of emotions playing across her face. Absently, she touched the small bruise growing at her mouth. She walked to the door, pausing as she passed the mounted computer monitor. She stared into the screen, reflecting like a black mirror. For a moment, she imagined she saw a girl of ten, fearful and hungry, alone on the streets of Bangkok.

"You dare anything," she whispered. She hardened her eyes, running her tongue along her split lip, tasting the blood. She spat a puddle of red on the hard granite floor.

"You dare anything! Anything!"

Straightening her back, Viper left the room.

. . .

Detention block

Emily jolted from her uneasy sleep. Rubbing her eyes, she looked about the small room.

"Who's there?"

There was no answer, the room was empty. She laid back on the thin, hard cot. Between the general discomfort, and the low-grade terror, she didn't know how she had managed to fall asleep at all—though God knows she was exhausted. Her mind went to Jackie. The guards refused to give her any news on her grandmother, which only added to her worry. She sat up and reached for the water her captors had left, finding it as flat and lifeless as everything else on this cursed island. She looked about the small room again.

No. Not a room, she thought. A cell.

She closed her eyes, and began conjugating verbs in Latin, a trick her father taught her as a little girl, a way to ease her mind and bring on sleep. The effort was in vain. Her thoughts kept coming to the man she'd recently learned was her grandfather…Steve Rogers. Crossbones forced her to betray him, threatening Jackie's life. The beast was cruel enough to have done it with a smile. So she made the call. Was Steve now a captive of Hydra as well? But he was Captain America, surely that could only be good news? Jackie was convinced Steve would save them…but he was sick, and he was alone, against an army of killers. The three of them would die here on the island. She would never see her friends again, would never see home again…she would never see Joey Chapman again.

"Oh, damn it, Emily!" she shouted, bolting upright. "You're doing no good this way. Take hold of yourself."

She lay back down. The room was almost certainly bugged, and her captors must be delighted seeing her crack up this way. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction. Taking a deep breath, she left the Latin alone and stared off into the dark, allowing her fear and anger to wane. Bit by bit, she grew sleepy again, and began to drop off. Then she heard the voice.

…Daughter

Emily bolted upright, trembling. "Who is it?" Again she looked around the small, dark room, finding it empty. Nothing but silence fell on her ears, until the voice returned.

…Daughter

She scrambled, nearly falling out of the cot, pulling the thin and scratchy sheet about her. The voice wasn't in the room…but rather in her mind! She looked down to the gem hanging between her breasts, hidden beneath the plain tee-shirt they had given her to wear. The gem glowed softly, emanating a warmth that seeped into her heart, which quickened in wonder.

…Daughter of Men. Can you hear me?

It was a woman's voice. Her mother; her childhood friend; herself. The voice of the eternal feminine. Emily closed her eyes, and thought.: 'Yes, I can hear you. Who…who are you?'

I am the Heart of Fire, O Daughter of Men.
I am E'alomm Tae', last of the ancient Elvish magic that once filled all the earth.
I serve the Daughter of Men, if she is true to her pledge…

'What pledge?'

The pledge your mothers mother did make when she was gifted me.
— The pledge to be true,
— The pledge to honor the Queen of Justice,
— The pledge to do no evil upon Mother Earth, nor to her children who are innocent.
— The pledge to bear light against evil, and to punish the wicked.
Do you so swear, O Daughter of Men?

Emily sat up straighter. 'I do so swear.'

It is good. Be not afraid, for no evil can find us here.
Man's eye cannot see, nor can his science pierce, this veil.
We are in the bosom of our Mother, for this is the World's soul, where magic yet lives.
But hearken, for our Mother is in great peril. An evil beyond this World seeks her doom.
You must confront this evil, O Daughter of Men.

'But…how? What must I do?'

You must aid your Sire, for he, too, is tasked to confront this evil.
He is good, the bravest of Men, and true of heart…but he does not know of magic.
When the time comes, lend your magic to his might.
For the World is a wheel, God the Father and God the Mother are One.
As the Sire begets the Daughter, so to must the Daughter replenish the Sire.
For all the World is a wheel…

A spinning vortex of light descended, shining like the first starlight at the first nightfall. It filled the room…or perhaps it only filled her body, Emily could not tell. It felt as if a flame passed through her veins, flowing into her muscles, on into her bones, into then into every fiber of her being. It filled her to overflowing, with a power, and a lightness, and a joy that made her laugh, blameless and innocent. In her mind's eye, she saw a vision of a beautiful woman who was also a child, older than the mountains, and eternally young.

I am E'alomm Tae', O Daughter of Men, and I am your Sister.
As you keep faith with me, so I shall keep faith with you.
Listen now, as I teach you the ways of Elvish Magic…

Emily listened, and when the telling was done, she was no longer the woman she had been. She was the Keeper of the Heart of Fire, Servant of the Queen of Justice, and Protector of the Children of Men...and those who had dared to lay their hands upon her and her grandmother would soon learn the folly of their ways.