Chapter Text
Shivering, Phillip Coulson pulled his coat tighter around him. Winter had been long and harsh, and even now that it was early spring, snow still clung thickly to the roads. The long journey had let icy cold sink down deep into Phil’s bones. Aches splintered out from his joints, reminding him that he wasn’t as young as he used to be. Over the years, Phil had grudgingly gotten used to living rough, mainly through necessity. Even so, Phil longed for the warmer weather of spring, when the nuisance of the snow drifts would finally melt away.
:We are almost at Haven, Chosen. You will be able to warm yourself in a bath before you know it:
As always, his Companion’s soothing voice in his mind brought a soft smile to Phil’s face. Until his dying day, Phil would never forget his first glimpse of Peggy. Taller than any of the army pack horses, Phil had never seen anything like her. Even with the tales of Companions his father used to tell him as a boy, Phil hadn’t believed his eyes. Peggy’s coat had gleamed a blinding white, as startling as her bitless bridle and silver hooves. No matter how much she’d looked like a large, white horse, the intelligent gleam in her blue eyes had proved she wasn’t. She’d watched Phil as he’d stumbled forward, confused why a Companion had been so far into the Borderlands. Back then, Phil had been little more than a jaded and battle-worn soldier, dispirited by all the war and pain he’d seen. Yet Peggy had been Searching for him, for the Herald who would be her lifelong partner. When Phil had finally glanced into Peggy’s eyes, he staggered, as if suddenly falling, and something warm and sure blossomed deep in his chest.
Even now, Phil was still awed that Peggy had Chosen him. She’d taken him from that battlefield and shown him a new world. A place where Phil could make sure wars like the one he’d fought in would never happen again. As a Herald, Phil helped protected the people and borders of Valdemar from those that wished to do them harm. It was a life and purpose not dissimilar from that of a soldier. Only now, instead of just fighting, Phil was striving every day to prevent war from even beginning. Winters away from a cozy bed and a fireplace seemed a small price to pay for that.
:It’s only just sunset: Phil replied. :You know as well as I do that Fury will want a report as soon as I arrive, no matter how badly I smell:
Peggy whickered softly, her breath foggy in the cold air. Leaning forward, Phil ran his fingers through her silver mane. Phil’s grumpy moods always amused Peggy, but Phil could still hear the undercurrent of exhaustion that matched his own. They’d been on the road a long time. Now that they were near home, the weariness Phil had been holding back was starting to weigh him down like a stone. Most of the time, being the Good Eye of Lord Fury, the Queen’s Own, was more pain than pleasure.
A few minutes later, Peggy topped a rise, Haven suddenly spread out below them. The city was bathed in the orange-hued light of sunset, as sprawling and busy as ever. Letting out a breath, Phil was struck by the sudden and familiar sense of home. Some of the ever-present tension finally bled from his shoulders. As much as Haven meant warm baths and meals not cooked over a campfire, it also meant the safety of friends. :Come on: Phil said, stroking Peggy’s neck again. :Let’s go home:
They followed the road down to the capital of Valdemar and slipped in through the gate. The street had been swept clean of snow, and Peggy’s hooves rang musically on the cobbled stones. Despite the hour, there was still a busy crowd outside. Competing shouts from market vendors punctuated the noise, and the scents of cooking food, smoke and sweat drifted on the air. Breathing out, Phil let the sights, smells and sounds wash over him. Peggy threaded between carriages and slipped gracefully around people as they headed deeper into the circular streets of the city. No one paid them any mind, too used to seeing Heralds and Companions to pay that much attention. Peggy moved steadily passed inns and taverns, before finally, the noise started to quiet. The smaller houses soon gave way to sprawling mansions, and then the tall Palace wall was looming in front of them.
Sitting within the heart of the city, the Palace was as grand as the home of royalty should be. Surrounding it were the three Collegia: the Bardic Collegium, the Healer’s Collegium and the Herald’s Collegium. Intended to train those with gifts in healing, song, or as Heralds, the Collegia were as impressive as the Palace itself. As was the riot of colourful clothing worn within. Phil’s first glimpse was still etched into his memory. He'd been shocked at the bright scarlet of the Bards and the deep green of the Healers scattered between the gleaming white of the Heralds.
Peggy flicked her ears and snorted as she came to a stop in the flickering circle of torchlight near a small gate. A sleepy guardsman stood nearby, and blinked blearily up at Phil. “Uh, what business do you have at the Palace?” the guardsman asked.
Phil frowned, but he wasn’t wearing his Heraldic Whites to mark him as more than just a tired traveller. Even so, the sight of a Companion should not be strange to a palace guardsman. “My business mainly consists of a warm meal and a soft place to sleep,” Phil said, his voice raspy with disuse. Clearing his throat, Phil wondered when he had last spoken aloud to someone. Or to someone who wasn’t Peggy. “My Companion and I are returning home.”
The guardsman blinked a few more times, before his eyes went wide. “Herald Coulson,” he said. “I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t recognize you.”
Considering how exhausted Phil was, he could sympathize. He nodded to the guardsman as the gate opened, and Peggy walked through without prompting. After the bustle of the city, the calm beyond the wall was a welcome relief. After so long away, the crowds of Haven had Phil’s nerves jumping. Phil was too used to the relative quiet of the Border roads, with Peggy as his only constant company. He’d only passed through towns or villages when he needed supplies or information. For the most part. Sometimes the mission called for more, but Phil preferred to stay away from the larger cities.
Instinctively, Peggy headed for the stables and the Companion’s Field, seeking her own rest. The stable was as large as the other buildings inside the wall, but Phil had long since gotten used to the grandness. As he and Peggy made their way passed the Collegia, Phil picked out the changes. No doubt, there would be new faces too. Phil absently wondered if that meant the exaggerated stories whispered about him had finally been forgotten.
:I doubt it: Peggy said, amused.
Phil sighed. :You know, I wouldn’t put it past Nick to be the one keeping those infernal stories alive:
Peggy whickered softly. :I can always ask Rolan:
At the mention of Nick Fury’s Companion, Phil frowned. :Don’t give either of them the satisfaction: he replied.
Instinctively, Phil reached out towards Nick Fury’s calm presence. As much as Phil disliked using his Gift of ThoughtSensing, he couldn’t help it. Nick had been his friend and his brother for so long, it was habit for Phil to reach out and make sure Nick was safe. Phil only brushed his thoughts against Nick, but it was enough to sense Nick’s exhaustion and relief that Phil was back.
:Welcome home, Phil: Nick’s voice echoed warmly through his mind.
Phil smiled.
Sliding a little less than gracefully out of the saddle, Phil began the task of taking care of Peggy. His whole body ached, but hard work had never been something Phil avoided and he made sure to store all his gear away for a proper cleaning in the morning. Following Peggy towards the Companion’s Field, Phil smiled at the spring to Peggy’s step. He had to shake his head in amusement as all the other Companions in the field looked up delightedly at her appearance. :So eager to leave me already, are you?: he teased.
:Perhaps I want a conversation with someone who’s not so grumpy?: Peggy replied.
Phil rolled his eyes. :You mean, you want to catch up on all the gossip you missed:
:Be nice or I won’t share: Peggy told him primly.
Shaking his head again, Phil was about to reply when he looked up and caught sight of the Heraldic Trainee on the other side of the field. Most Trainees were twelve or thirteen when they were Chosen, but sometimes Heralds could be older. Phil had been twenty-five and a veteran soldier when he’d first met Peggy.
This young man definitely wasn’t a boy either. One of his well-muscled arms rested along his Companion’s back, and his sharp gazed was fixed on Phil. His face didn’t have the more classically handsome features so favoured at Court, but Phil found them infinitely more attractive. The grey clothing hugged the rest of the Trainee’s strong frame, and his dark blond hair was distinctly messy. Phil winced inwardly, reminded again of how long he’d been away. Phil had definitely never seen the young man before, because Phil would not have forgotten.
The longer those blue eyes studied him, the more aware Phil became of his own ragged state. He knew what the young man saw -- what the Heraldic Trainees always saw. Phil was tired and worn around the edges, unassuming enough that no one really looked twice. Which was perfect for most of the missions Nick sent him on, but didn’t do much for Phil’s ego. Even when he wasn’t wearing clothes dusty from travel, there was no hiding his age or the way he was losing his hair.
Peggy nudged his shoulder. Hard.
Stumbling forward, Phil turned to look at her in surprise, only to find Peggy glaring back at him. :Do we have to have another talk about things, Phillip?: she asked pointedly.
Phil winced. Peggy was especially mad at him when she called him by his full name. Phil was confident in his abilities as a Herald, but he’d always been insecure about his appearance. Until Peggy, people had rarely given him a second look. The young man’s lips were quirked into a lopsided smile when Phil glanced back at him. Noticing he had Phil’s attention again, the Trainee raised his hand and waved sheepishly. Phil didn’t need Peggy’s second nudge to wave back, but it did make the Trainee grin harder. With a huff, Peggy took pity on him. :His name is Clint: she said. :He’s Kate’s new Chosen:
:He looks like trouble: Phil told her.
:You should go and say hello: Peggy said, amused. :You could use a little trouble:
Phil turned back to her with a raised eyebrow. :Why would I need extra trouble when I have you?:
Peggy’s response was to duck her head and give him a firm shove in Clint’s direction. Phil laughed.
“Herald Coulson, sir?”
The sound of his name turned Phil’s attention to the young Trainee hurrying towards him. The girl couldn’t have been more than fourteen. “Lord Fury wishes to see you in the old Council chambers,” she said a little breathlessly.
Phil nodded. Duty called. “Tell him I will be right there,” he replied. Nick’s own Gift of ForeSight didn’t let him reach out to Phil the way Phil could, and Nick also knew Phil aversion to intruding on the thoughts of others. Phil couldn’t help but feel guilty whenever he used his Gift, even though Nick had long since given his permission.
The Trainee nodded back, before racing away. Phil sighed, not daring to glance at Clint, even though he could feel the young man’s eyes on him once more. Peggy bumped her nose against Phil’s arm. His shoulders dropping, Phil huffed and looked up. :Kate says Clint is asking if you want him to fetch you something from the kitchens: Peggy told him.
Blinking, Phil glanced over. He opened his mouth a few times to reply, but no words came out. It had been a long time since someone who wasn’t Peggy had offered to make his life a little easier. Ducking his head slightly, Clint shrugged his shoulders. Then he looked up again with a bashful smile. Finally, Phil managed to wrangle his thoughts together enough to nod. Clint’s smile brightened, before he nodded back, and headed off in the direction of the kitchens. Phil watched him leave, carefully keeping his gaze from straying lower than Clint’s waist. Then, with a final soothing stroke down Peggy’s neck, Phil turned and headed for the Palace and Nick.
~*~
Being glared at by Nick Fury, the Queen’s Own, was not something most Heralds survived, but Phil was sadly used to it. Arching an eyebrow, Phil glared right back. “Nick,” he said flatly. “Don’t pull me off this. I’m doing good work at the Border.”
“I know you are,” Nick agreed. For a second, his expression softened. “I just need you back here. Something’s coming. I can see it on the horizon, and I need someone to help me figure out what it is before it gets here.”
Phil, more than used to Nick’s dire yet vague pronouncements, sighed and gave in. “Is it going to get here before I have a chance to have a hot meal?” he asked.
Nick rolled his eye. “I see time away hasn’t made you any less grumpy,” he muttered.
Phil rolled his eyes. Over the last two years, he’d barely spent more than a month in Haven. Instead, he’d spent his time coordinating missions for the other Heralds Nick sent his way. Or conducted his own incursions across the Border for intelligence. As a result, Phil was exhausted -- and not just physically. Everything he’d seen was beginning to weigh him down like a stone sitting on his shoulders. Even so, there was still a part of Phil that was itching to head back out, because there was still so much to do.
“Phil, I’m sorry,” Nick said quietly. “If there was anyone else I thought could figure this out, I’d ask them.”
Refusing to sigh, Phil smiled wryly. “I know,” he replied.
Before Nick could say anything else, the door to the chamber opened sharply, and one of the palace guard swept in. She scanned the room, and then nodded to her fellow guard who had remained in the doorway. The rhythm of the guards was familiar, and Phil was rising to his feet beside Nick even before Queen Maria strode in. She wore the simple Heraldic Whites she favoured when not at Court, her hair pulled back into a bun. Exasperatedly, Maria huffed as Phil and Nick bowed. “Will you both stop that?” she said with a pointed look in their direction. Walking over to Phil, she pulled him into a tight hug. “Hello my old friend,” she greeted.
For just a moment, Phil sank into the hug. :Hello, Maria: he said. Like with Nick, Phil used his Gift to brush Maria’s thoughts. She, too, was tired but happy to see him.
:Of course, I am. Never doubt that: Maria said.
:I don’t: Phil replied.
:Good: Maria leaned back. “Now sit down before you fall over,” she added aloud.
“Of course, Your Majesty,” Phil replied, his lips twitching into a smile.
“Don’t sass me,” Maria said. The glare she shot Phil reminded him of the feisty young princess he’d befriended at the Collegium. “And you,” Maria continued, arching an eyebrow at Nick. “You couldn’t have let Phil take a bath and eat a hot meal before reporting in?”
“He’s a Herald,” Nick replied. “He’s not going to keel over.”
Maria narrowed her eyes. Just as she and Nick were about to start their familiar bickering, the chamber door opened again, interrupting them. Lord Jasper Sitwell strode through, bowing to Maria and nodding towards Nick in greeting. Lady Melinda May followed, subtly shepherding Jasper over to a chair without looking like she was doing much at all. Both Melinda and Jasper sat on the Council of Valdemar. They helped to advise the Queen, even though neither were Heralds, and Phil considered both of them to be good friends. When Jasper’s eyes eventually flicked to Phil, he grinned. “Coulson,” he said. “Finally back from your secret mission, I see.”
“I am,” Phil replied mildly.
Before anything else could be said, Phil’s stomach gave an embarrassingly loud rumble. Glancing away, Phil refused to blush. Thankfully, a quiet knock on the chambers’ door prevented anyone from making a comment. Despite that, Peggy’s amusement was clear in the back of Phil’s mind. Her bond with Phil allowed her to be perfectly aware of what was going on in the room, even though she wasn’t there.
Arching an eyebrow, Jasper stepped forward to see whoever it was. “Lord Fury,” he said with the beginnings of a smirk, as he turned. “You haven’t misplaced one of your Heraldic Trainees, have you?”
“I wasn’t aware of losing one,” Nick answered dryly.
“Well, there appears to be one wandering the corridors. Perhaps you’d like him back,” Jasper said, waving towards the now open door.
Sheepishly, the Heraldic Trainee from the Field ducked his head around the door. Clint. His eyes widened when he saw the Queen, but Melinda fluidly blocked his escape route. “Uh, excuse me, Your Majesty,” Clint stammered, bowing jerkily. Clint’s voice was surprisingly husky, like maybe he didn’t talk to people much, either. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I was just bringing Herald Coulson some supper from the kitchens.”
“Oh, were you now?” Nick said with a smirk.
“Don’t start, Nick,” Phil warned, his eyes narrowed at his old friend. Rising to his feet, Phil walked over to where Clint was hesitating by the now closed door. Clint held a small tray in his hands, which carried a large hunk of buttered bread, a bowl of thick stew and a cup of warm tea. Phil’s stomach growled loudly at the smells. “Thank you, Clint,” Phil said. He willed himself not to flush as he took the tray from Clint, careful to keep his barriers around his Gift as their hands brushed.
:Smiling at him wouldn’t hurt: Peggy’s voice echoed.
Phil ignored her.
“I see you two have already met,” Nick said, distinctly amused.
Turning back to Nick, Phil narrowed his eyes again. “I thought I told you not to start?” he said archly.
Nick blinked at him. “Which one of us is it that reports directly to the Queen again?” he snarked in reply.
Phil slid his gaze pointedly towards Maria and back. Then he arched his eyebrow. Maria laughed. “Oh, I have really missed you, Phil,” she said.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Phil replied, retaking his seat. “It’s nice to be appreciated.”
Jasper grinned. “I almost forgot how much of an asshole you are, Coulson,” he said approvingly.
Phil hummed, but mostly ignored him in favour of dipping half his bread into the stew and shoving it in his mouth. It was simple food, but to Phil it was the best thing he’d tasted in months. He closed his eyes in bliss.
Nick huffed. “Barton, why don’t you take a seat?”
“Me, sir?” Clint asked.
“Yes,” Nick replied. “You.” Phil couldn’t see it, but he could just tell Nick was rolling his eye. “Now, Phil can we interrupt your communion with your food for a moment?”
Phil opened his eyes, and swallowed. “Are you actually going to listen if I say no?”
Nick grinned wolfishly. Phil huffed and ate more stew. While Phil had been eating, Clint had taken the chair next to his. Perched on the edge of his seat, Clint looked ready to flee the second someone said he wasn’t welcome anymore. “For those of you who don’t know him, this is Herald Barton,” Nick introduced, waving his hand in Clint’s direction. “He’s just graduated to his Whites.”
From Clint’s flummoxed expression, this was news to him. “Uh, sir?” he said.
“He’s also just been assigned to Herald Coulson for his internship. I thought it prudent he hear what he’s getting himself into,” Nick continued.
Phil sighed. Nick was up to something. “You know, I definitely didn’t miss your sense of the unnecessarily dramatic,” he told Nick.
“Barton is one of the best fighters I’ve ever seen,” Nick countered, smirking infuriatingly. “Natasha likes him, and you know the Weaponsmaster rarely likes anyone.”
As the Weaponsmaster, Natasha Romanoff was not just a Herald. She trained the other Heralds in weaponry, her fearsome skill making her legend among the Trainees. As well as most of the Heralds she’d ever trained with too. Experience had proved to Phil how difficult Natasha was to beat in the training ring. Yet the skills she’d taught Phil were one of the reasons he was still breathing.
:He is a good choice for a partner: Peggy added. :He will be able to keep up with you, Chosen, which is no small feat:
“He’s got the Gift of Farsight, Phil,” Nick said. Combined with Phil’s own Gift of Thoughtsensing, he and Clint would be just as dangerous as Fury needed them to be. Phil huffed because that wasn’t fair. Nick was playing dirty.
:Kate thinks you’ll be a good influence on him: Peggy said. :And I think he’ll be a good influence on you. I told you that you could use a little trouble in your life:
Phil sighed, because apparently Nick and Peggy were ganging up on him now.
“Do I get a say in this at all?” Clint spoke up.
“Not really, no,” Nick replied. “It’s one of the benefits of being the Queen’s Own.”
“Can I remind you that the position doesn’t actually make you royalty?” Maria said dryly.
Thankfully, Maria and Nick were once again interrupted. This time, it was by the arrival of the final member of their planning circle. To Phil’s relief, Nick had only called his friends to their meeting, rather than the full Valdemar Council. While the Councillors were all good men and women, Lord Pierce in particular did so like to make speeches.
“Forgive me for being late,” Natasha Romanoff said softly, bowing to the Queen and then nodding to Nick. “Your Majesty, Lord Fury.” Her eyes slid to Clint. “Trainee Barton.”
“Actually, it’s Herald Barton now,” Clint said, sounding both proud and apprehensive. “Apparently, if you bring people supper you get promoted.”
Natasha raised an eyebrow, before she turned to Phil. “Nick’s planning something,” Phil said in answer to her questioning look. “Although, as usual, he refuses to tell anyone what that is.”
Natasha smiled slightly, but there was real concern in her eyes. “Does this mean you’re heading out to the Border again?” she asked.
“No,” Phil replied. “It seems I’m needed in Haven for a while.”
Natasha’s smile grew. “I’m glad,” she said.
Phil smiled back. “I missed you too, Natasha.”
“It’s not that the situation in Karse isn’t still important,” Nick broke in. “I just have my doubts that Karse is the only threat we need to worry about.”
At the name of her former homeland, Natasha tensed. To Phil’s surprise, it was Clint that reached out to briefly squeeze her hand. As one of very few whom Natasha had told about her past, Phil was aware of how Natasha disliked to be touched without permission. Phil had always respected that. Yet, the ease with which Natasha accepted Clint’s hand spoke of a deep friendship between the two.
“Be that as it may,” Maria said, “I still want to know what the latest situation in Karse is.”
Karse was a small, but surprisingly powerful country to the southeast of Valdemar. Technically, the country was a monarchy, but the King was little more than a figurehead. The real power in Karse resided with the theocracy. The Sunpriests and their leader, the Son of the Sun, worshiped their supreme god, V’Kandis Sunlord. Unfortunately, the Sunpriests dispensed their faith with harsh laws. Women were mostly relegated to the home, magic was feared and homosexuality was forbidden. Phil had some of the horrors of Karse firsthand, like the children with the potential for magic burnt at the stake. The fact that Natasha had survived all that and more made her one of the strongest people Phil had ever met.
Letting out a slow breath, Phil met Maria’s gaze. “It’s worse than we thought,” he began. “Malekith and his Dark Elves have risen to great power within the Sunpriests. So much so, that when the Son of the Sun died a month ago in sudden circumstances, Malekith became Son of the Sun in his place.”
Nick cursed, while Maria, Jasper and Melinda all looked grave. “And I suppose Malekith had a hand in the previous Sunlord’s death?” he said.
“Nothing proven, but everyone suspects,” Phil agreed.
“Does Malekith seek to use his new power to attack the Asgardian Empire again?” Melinda asked.
“His quest for vengeance has not changed,” Phil replied, “but I have not heard of any direct plans.”
Malekith and his Dark Elves had sworn a vendetta against Asgard a very long time ago. The exact details of how it began were lost, but there was no confusion about what had angered Malekith the most. He and his Elves had been cast out of the Empire by Crown Prince Thor, torn away from their power and luxury. Despite Malekith’s thirst for revenge, his exile might have been the end of it. For all the formidable skill of the Dark Elves, they were no match for the power of the whole Asgardian Empire. Then Prince Loki, the adopted brother of the Asgardian Crown Prince, had tried to usurp power from the All Father. His actions had plunged almost the whole continent into a war that had lasted for nearly ten years. The same war Phil had once seen as a soldier. The fight had been devastating, weakening both the Asgardian Empire and its allies. That distraction had allowed Malekith to seize the power of the Sunpriests for himself. Phil couldn’t stop the sense of foreboding looming over him, as if the whole continent was on the brink of war once again. The thought terrified Phil more than he was willing to admit. His scars from the first war still cut too deeply for Phil to face another.
“So what does that mean?” Jasper said, blowing out a breath.
“If Malekith is the new leader of the Sunpriests, he’ll be in command of the Red Room,” Natasha said quietly.
Clint reached out again to comfort her. Phil watched the movement with a growing sense of curiosity. He wondered if Natasha had shared with Clint what had happened to her before she’d managed to escape the Red Room herself. Natasha hadn’t said much to Phil, but the details Natasha had shared were enough to terrify him. Stories of Sunpriests recruiting the few magical children to survive being burnt at the stake. Of teaching them to summon demons. Stories of those same Sunpriests using demons to train children into being their assassins.
“Are you saying Malekith is now in control of the Winter Soldier?” Maria asked grimly, breaking into Phil’s introspection.
Natasha nodded.
Jasper cursed, his eyes wide. “Please tell me Malekith isn’t going to use the Winter Soldier to try and assassinate Asgardian royalty,” he said.
“I don’t think he is,” Nick replied, his fingers steepled and his gaze slightly distant. Nick’s ability to untangle the true motives of his enemies had always amazed Phil, and Phil was never sure how much was Nick’s Gift of ForeSight and how much was just Nick. Somehow, Nick could stay several steps ahead, his mind able to decipher potential strategies and decide which ones their enemies would take. “The Winter Soldier tried to kill Crown Prince Thor during the war and failed,” Nick continued. “Malekith would have to know he’d be even less successful a second time.”
“So what you’re telling us,” Melinda said dryly, “is that we have no idea what Malekith and his Dark Elves are planning?”
“No, but we do know what Malekith isn’t planning,” Nick said, his gaze locking with Phil’s. “Malekith has had a long time to plot, so we need to find out what he’s going to do, and find out fast.”
Phil let out a slow breath, and nodded. He very carefully didn’t look in Clint’s direction. “Yes, sir,” he said. “That’s not all, either.”
“Oh?” Nick asked, but he clearly wasn’t expecting Phil’s words to be good news.
“There are rumours of an envoy from outside Karse who is attempting to meet with Malekith and his Sunpriests,” Phil said. “No one seems to know why, but the most likely explanation is to ally their power. Possibly also because this new group wishes to see Asgard suffer.”
“New group?” Jasper asked, his eyes narrowing. “What new group?”
“They call themselves Hydra,” Phil replied. “They’re not unlike the Dark Elves. Hydra is deliberately cruel, and will ruthlessly persecute those who do not fit their ideals. There’s little else I was able to find out. The members are overly secretive, and I don’t know if even Malekith knows who all the individuals are.”
Maria rubbed a hand over her face. “As if we didn’t have enough to deal with,” she muttered.
“And what of Victoria Hand?” Melinda said.
“She has gathered a lot of support from those she can,” Phil answered. “There are those among the Karsite army that follow her, as well as a few of the Sunpriests who are not Dark Elves or corrupted by power. I just fear that with Malekith still in power, it will never be enough.”
Phil himself had helped Hand in her efforts to rescue her homeland. As a young girl, Hand had been forcibly recruited into the Sunpriests. Even so, she was one of the few that remained untouched by corruption. It was one of the reasons Phil had first approached her, after he’d seen the suffering caused by the Sunpriest’s reign. Hand had an impressive network of spies, but she lacked the ability to do much against such entrenched corruption.
“Then I think we need to deal with Malekith, and hope that Victoria Hand is as capable as Phil says she is,” Maria declared.
“I think you’re all forgetting something important,” Clint interrupted with a rough voice. Phil hadn’t forgotten that Clint was there, but he had to admit to not paying the other man much attention. Glancing at Clint, Phil caught his thoughtful frown.
“And what is that?” Nick asked him dryly.
“Crown Prince Thor’s upcoming wedding,” Clint replied.
Phil blinked.
:He raises a good point: Peggy agreed.
“What about Prince Thor’s wedding?” Maria said, her eyes narrowed.
“Um…” Clint said, his eyes growing wide, as if he’d just realized who he’d interrupted. To Phil’s surprise, it was him that Clint glanced at for reassurance. Phil did his best to smile back. “Well, uh. The Imperial Wedding would have almost all the Asgardian nobility in attendance,” Clint continued. “Including everyone Malekith has sworn vengeance against. That would make it an almost irresistible target to him.”
“It really would,” Jasper agreed with a sigh.
“Except Karse hasn’t been invited,” Nick countered.
Clint arched an eyebrow at Nick. His expression was startlingly like Natasha’s when she thought someone was missing the point. “Are you telling me Malekith needs an invitation to unleash his revenge on Asgard?”
Maria broke the rising tension with a soft chuckle. “I can see why you like him, Natasha,” she said.
“That’s not the only reason,” Natasha replied, her lips quirking.
Nick huffed out a sigh. “I’ll send a message to Asgard first thing in the morning,” he said.
“Good,” Phil said, giving in to the yawn that had been building for the last ten minutes. “That sounds like a plan.”
~*~