The Wizard and the Void - Chapter Eleven

Author: Milady Dragon

The call came just as they were sitting down for lunch.

Clint had been glad they weren't going to be eating in any sort of fancy dining room somewhere in the Keep; instead, it was a rustic-looking table in the kitchen…and the room was fairly large, but not all the space looked to be utilized. After all, from what Clint had seen there was only the family there, including Melinda May, and one more member of staff that he'd noticed but not been introduced to, and who had to have been the cook who'd prepared the food that had been waiting for them when they'd entered the kitchen area. Or else Melinda was responsible, which was possible although in the few times he'd run with her she'd ducked out of cooking duties.

The kitchen had high ceilings and two enormous fireplaces, one of which was actually lit, even though the fire had been banked until only glowing embers remained. There was also an oven that would have easily fit three full-grown bucks, a large cold box that practically vibrated with the magic that was running it, and a pantry that Clint could just see into from where he was standing and was filled with all sorts of dried foods and several jars that most likely contained spices. He thought there might have also been a meat smoking room, but it was obviously not in use, judging from the lack of heat coming from it.

"Melinda not joining us?" Clint asked when he noticed the two place settings.

"She normally doesn't," Phil answered, taking the far seat. "It's usually just Daisy and I."

Clint joined him, checking out the food that had been prepared for them. A chicken, skin looking quite crispy, potatoes, and string beans along with several thick slices of home-baked bread and a dish with creamy butter beside it. Glasses had already been filled with what looked like either wine or juice, a pitcher on a shelf nearby waiting for them to pour more whenever they were ready for it.

The archer was starved, so he didn't hesitate to help himself. Phil must have been as well, but then he'd been doing a lot of magic in the couple of hours since Clint's arrival. He'd been serious about enchantments on things, including several of Clint's arrows; he now had two magicked knives, as well as another ring that was a Protection spell and was much more his style of jewelry than the black-stoned one that had the Teleport spell on it, this one being a twisted silver band, unadorned and looking a little worn. He'd wondered how old it actually was when Phil had handed it to him and explained how to activate the magic if he needed it.

Lola had taken up a position between the two, sitting at attention, waiting to see who was going to knuckle under her imploring gaze and feed her first.

It was Clint. He was a sucker for that sort of thing.

Phil chuckled. "You're such a pushover."

Clint shrugged. Yes, he was.

"She has her own dinner, if she was interested." The Void Wizard waved toward the counter, where another plate was sitting, an entire cooked chicken on it. "She knows where it is. She just enjoys conning gullible guests out of their own food."

He reached over, scratching Lola right between her blue eyes, and she huffed a dragon laugh. With a flick of her wings, she flew over to the counter, where she daintily picked up the chicken and proceeded to devour it.

"Eat up," Phil encouraged. "We have no idea when we'll be getting another meal we can trust once we get the call."

It was at that moment that the speaking stone that Garrett had given Phil went off with a horrendous squawking sound, startling Clint enough that he dropped the chicken leg he'd snagged for himself and the noise caused Lola to hiss angrily.

Luckily, Clint's reflexes were good enough that he was able to keep his piece of chicken from hitting the stone floor and wasting the effort of whoever was responsible for cooking it.

Rolling his eyes, Phil took the stone from his pocket. "Speak of the demon and it shall call," he quipped lightly.

The stone was plain and smooth, obviously once a river rock, edges worn away by centuries of water. The moment the stone was in his hand, the irritating noise cut off.

"Phil!" the voice that came from the stone was full of good cheer, and it set Clint's teeth on edge.

"Good evening, John," Phil replied, his own voice bland, as if he was already bored with the conversation.

Clint watched as the man he'd spent much of the day with changed before his eyes. Suddenly, gone was the warmth in his blue – his very blue – eyes, and his face lost all animation. It was as if a completely different person was seated across from him, and with a shock he realized he was seeing bits and pieces of the Dark One in Phil Coulson, coming back out as if it had been hidden in the shadows of the new Phil's friendly demeanor. Across the room, Lola stopped eating, her head swiveling to watch her Wizard, her eyes swirling with worry.

He didn't like it, either.

"Are you ready to meet our little merry band of Voids?" Just from that tone, Clint could tell that John Garrett was an asshole.

"When?"

"In an hour. Use the bracelet and it'll bring you right to the meeting place. Oh, and…come alone."

With that pronouncement, the stone began to smoke. Phil casually dropped it on the floor, then pointed a finger at it. A bubble of pure blackness surrounded the stone, and a muffled pop sounded. Clint could imagine just how much of a mess that explosion would have caused if Phil hadn't contained it.

"Is Garrett a natural asshole," Clint asked, "or does he have to work at it?"

Phil huffed a laugh, his face losing its blankness and warmth returned to his eyes. "Oh, it's natural."

"You're not going alone." It wasn't a question.

"Of course not. Certainly, if I still was the Dark One, I'd be arrogant enough to do just that. And I'm sure Garrett knows it. So, I think bringing you along with be that much more of a surprise."

Clint nodded. "Then, eat. You need to get back some of the energy you laid out in enchanting nearly every weapon I have on me."

The Void Wizard gave him a single raised eyebrow. "And I'm supposed to believe that was nearly every weapon you're carrying, Barton?"

There really was no answer to that.

Lola snorted, then went back to her own meal, and Clint took that as a sign that the Wizard seated opposite him had regained his equilibrium.

Because it had been obvious, the moment Clint had seen Phil standing there in his casting chamber, that the man had changed drastically in more ways than just his appearance. Back when he'd been trying his best to raze towns and salt the remains, there'd been an undercurrent of fierce anger that had tinged every single action he'd taken. At the time, the archer hadn't known just what had caused Phil to be so furious at the world, but now he knew, and it made him want to find the Wizard's parents and put arrows in them where it would do the most good.

However, now that anger was gone, replaced by what Clint could only describe as contentment. It was as if something had snuffed out all that rage, and he suspected it was mostly all down to a little girl named Daisy, who'd needed Phil just as much as he'd needed her. He would be forever grateful to her, and vowed to get to know the daughter that had taken away that anger and had replaced it with love.

But now, that bastard, John Garrett, and whoever else he was working with, were bringing back that old persona that Phil had done his damnedest to leave behind. If just for that, Hydra deserved to be taken down, and taken down hard.

Alright, he'd have to thank them first for bringing Phil back into his life, but that wouldn't stop Clint from causing as much damage as he possibly could.

Because this Phil, the one who'd become a model citizen in order to raise a little girl he'd found in the middle of a battle, was the one Clint really wanted to get to know now. He'd been attracted and half in love with the Dark One…please, all that anger and danger in one sexy package? Who wouldn't have been? And the archer had always had a thing for the bad boys.

This new man, who was eating his meal with easy enjoyment of good food, who adored his daughter, and who'd completely turned his life around…Clint knew he was in serious trouble with this version of Phil Coulson. This was the man he'd thought could every well exist within the Wizard who'd wanted to tear down everything because it was expected of him to be that evil. There had been flashes of kindness amid the evil actions; Clint could vividly recall one such time when he'd seen the Dark One save a family from the very chaos he'd set into motion, just because they'd been innocent and hadn't deserved to die. Those little things hadn't been shown in all the rumors about the Dark One and Marcus Johnson, which was a shame, since that would have flown in the face of all the horror stories that the governments that had found themselves in conflict with the pair of mercenaries wanted known.

And he wasn't about to forget Buda-Pest.

The man he was eating supper with was the culmination of all of those hundreds of tiny little acts, only the world would never know about them, not when the horror was what they wanted remembered.

"This is really good," Clint said around a mouthful of potatoes. "Does Melinda do the cooking, too?" It was polite conversation, because he was fairly certain of the answer.

"No," Phil laughed, confirming that suspicion, "Melinda couldn't cook to save her life. This," he waved his hand over the table, "we have to thank her husband, Andrew, for."

Wait… "Melinda May is married?" That just about boggled his mind. The Melinda he'd worked with had seemed like a loner, and when she'd suddenly stopped appearing out of seemingly nowhere for missions Clint had assumed she'd quit the business, or been killed. Despite his irritation with her knowing Phil was alive and Clint himself not, he'd been glad to know she was still around.

The Void Wizard nodded. "Andrew was a teacher at a university south of here. Melinda met him during a mess with a baron that had certain delusions of grandeur, and they got together a short time later. They were happy…until Andrew was accidentally in contact with a cursed magical artifact. It left him… changed. You won't see him; he doesn't like to show himself to anyone except Melinda…and Daisy, who set out to befriend him fairly early on. While Melinda runs things around here, Andrew does such things as cooking and some cleaning. I think he's also been teaching Daisy a few things."

"The curse can't be lifted?" the archer asked in dismay. That sounded horrible, and he didn't want to even contemplate it happening to anyone he cared about. Sure, he was aware that such curses existed; Phil himself had cursed a few things in his time, but he hadn't exactly hung around to see the results.

"I've been trying, but it's a particularly nasty one. Pepper thought we might have Grand Master Ianto have a go at it, since he's made a name for himself breaking curses, but I think Andrew doesn't want to be given that sort of false hope."

That must have been the figure he'd seen out of the corner of his eye. It had to have been this Andrew, unless the Keep was haunted. Which was possible, he supposed. A part of him wanted to ask Phil if the place had ghosts, but chose instead to finish eating. A building as old as Shield Keep was bound to have a few spirits hanging around.

"So," Phil began, "what have you been up to these last few years?"

Clint shrugged. "Not much. Hanging out with Natasha and doing odd jobs for Nick, as well as others. She and I aren't really mercenaries any longer. We got out of the business not long after you…well, you died, and Nick made himself a Baron, which I still find crazy. If you'd asked me about Marcus being an excellent Baron I would have laughed in your face."

"He does make a surprisingly excellent one. He was the first person I thought of when I needed to settle down with Daisy." He set his fork down. "Clint, I hope you don't think me not letting you or Natasha know reflects on how I feel about either of you."

He wanted to ask why he hadn't, but remembered how Phil had reacted when he'd tried to explain back in the study. "I'm sure you had your reasons, but you don't have to say a thing about them. Just…don't cut me out of the loop anymore, alright? And I'd like to get to know Daisy, once this is all over. I would really like to be friends with the kid who pulled you out of your downward spiral into darkness."

"More like a plunge," the Wizard admitted. "Clint, I truly am sorry I didn't try to contact you. We were… friends, and if it makes it any better at all Nick was the only one who knew until he sent Melinda to me." He smirked. "At least you didn't punch me like she did."

"That might still be on the table, just so you know."

"I'll keep that in mind." Phil gave him a smile that completely lacked any of the darkness the Elf had once seen in that particular expression. It was like being punched in the gut, that smile, but in an extremely pleasant sort of way.

Then Phil stood. "I'm going to get changed into something a bit more appropriate for a meeting of rogue Void Wizards expecting to see the Dark One. Finish up, and I'll meet you in my casting chamber when you're done."

"What about the plates?"

"Andrew will take care of it. He likes being helpful." With that, Phil left the kitchen and, her own dinner done, Lola followed, giving Clint a cheerful chirp on her way by.

Clint finished quickly, taking the last chicken leg as he stood. While the kitchen appeared to be empty, he couldn't help but say, "Thanks for the meal, Andrew. It was great."

With that, he left the kitchen, certain that his words had been heard.