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kathierif_fichere is part one of this tale.
Legolas was singing, a haunting, achingly beautiful melody full of longing and foreign words Clint didn’t understand. The Elf was standing under the trees, still within sight of Clint, who had found a comfortable perch on one of the balconies of the mansion, hidden from view.
Legolas had been less than impressed with New York City and modern civilization, and the trip they had taken to the outside world, to SHIELD headquarters to find out if there was any news about Loki and the Tesseract, had been cut as short as possible. Steve had gone with them, as bodyguard and as someone who knew what kind of culture shock the world could be, but it hadn’t helped much.
Still, it was important, Clint figured, to slowly acclimate Legolas to the modern world, in case they couldn’t get him back home. Bruce reported steady progress in his tracking of the Tesseract’s gamma ray signature, but nobody, not even Doctor Selvig, knew how to open the damn thing to exactly the place Legolas had come from.
Even if they managed to find Loki, they might still be unable to complete this mission successfully.
They had met with Director Fury, who had pointed all of these things out to Legolas in a calm voice, stern but not unkind. Clint had great respect for Fury and the way he had handled the situation, but then, he’d expected nothing less from Fury, who, after all, had managed to lure Steve Rogers back to work for him despite the reveal of the Phase Two program.
A door opened somewhere under him and Clint identified Steve’s steps before he could see his silhouette. Steve waited for a brief moment, then made his way over to Legolas, keeping quiet until he had finished his song.
“We haven’t had the chance to really talk,” Steve said. “How are you doing with this kind of world?”
Legolas dipped his head slightly. “It is a very strange world,” he admitted. “I find myself at a loss quite often, I must admit.”
“I know how you feel,” Steve replied with a small snort. “I felt the same for a long time…since I woke up. But...for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here now.”
“Why?”
Steve folded his arms over his chest. “I’ve known Clint for several months now, ever since our first fight with Loki,” he explained quietly. Clint on his perch held his breath, curious as to where this was going. Eavesdropping, he knew, was not nice, but Steve was talking about him, and he was outside, in public, so to speak, and therefore, Clint reasoned, it was okay for him to listen in.
“He had...not been himself,” Steve continued. “But when we needed him, he was on our side, thanks to Natasha bringing him back to our side.” He stopped. “The details, you’ve got to ask him about,” he then said. “That’s Clint’s story to tell, as much as he can, and not mine. But in all those months since then, I’ve never seen him laugh so much like he did today, with you.”
Clint frowned. What was Steve talking about? He had laughed since that fight, hadn’t he? He was sure that he had. Nobody could spend all those months without laughing, right?
“You count him as a friend, then?” Legolas asked.
“I do,” Steve replied without hesitation. “A good friend.”
“He reminds me of a man who went on a quest with us. A good, proud warrior,” Legolas said, his voice melodic and sad. “Boromir was one of the best mankind had to offer. He died in battle.”
“You have to tell me more about him,” Steve said gently. “When the opportunity arises and it doesn’t bother you too much.”
“I shall,” Legolas promised.
Steve nodded. “He reminds me of Bucky, a little bit,” he admitted after a long moment of companionable silence. “Bucky died in battle, too. He was my best friend.”
“Having Clint as a friend is an honor,” Legolas said. “He is a good man. Songs shall be written about him.”
“I hope so,” Steve said before visibly straightening. “Anyway, what I wanted to say is, staying in this confusing world, if there is no way back...you should see it as a new quest, you know. Not a punishment.”
“You know?”
“I do.” Steve shook his head ruefully. “You might be able to go home, after all is said and done, but...” He shrugged. “I won’t. I’m stuck here, a man out of time. But there’s still good men, and...” He trailed off. “What I mean is, you’re always welcome to join me on my own quest to learn as much as I can about this strange new world we’ve both found ourselves in.”
And with these words, and a squeeze of Legolas’ shoulder, Steve turned to walk back to the mansion, leaving Legolas standing there and Clint hunched over in his hiding place.
He hadn’t known Steve counted him as more than a teammate or that he was still suffering from being frozen on ice for so long. He had suspected that Steve wasn’t as fine as he liked to pretend - no person being fine would watch so much late night TV as Steve regularly did, and Clint had found the other man in front of the TV often enough when he had been on the run from his own nightmares.
Everybody knew who Bucky Barnes was; but again, Clint hadn’t known that Steve saw something of his best friend in him. This night was full of surprises, he thought, and he swore to himself that he would take the time and sit down with Steve more often, making an effort to get to know the other man better.
Underneath him, Legolas started singing again, soft and thoughtful, his voice not interrupting the sounds of the night, but joining them and forming a harmony with them, and Clint settled in to watch and listen.
~*+*~
“Boromir, huh?”
Legolas looked up from the book in his hands and at Clint, who was leaning in the open door, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his jeans. Legolas’ eyes were silverish-light, his gaze bright and alien as they pierced Clint’s, until Clint had to close his eyes to escape from their kindness.
“Boromir was the best among his people,” Legolas said. “Tony Stark told me that the tale of the Ring War is known in this land. On this world.”
“Yeah.” Clint nodded without opening his eyes. “It is.”
“One day, I might wish to hear that tale,” Legolas admitted. “To learn if it differs from the truth, as tales sometimes are wont to do.”
Clint nodded. “They really do,” he said. “You really want to read about it? Maybe the you in the story is completely different from the real you, you know?”
“I do. That is, if I cannot go home, even when I fear it will pain me to read about those times.” Legolas took a deep breath. “Shall I tell you about the Boromir I knew?”
Clint made a go-ahead-gesture with a hand and dared to open his eyes slightly. He had read The Lord of the Rings when he had been younger, but he remembered Boromir only vaguely, for wanting to own the ring and for dying, protecting the Hobbits.
“Boromir, son of Denethor,” Legolas started, and then he fell into a tale of how Boromir had been a good man drawn under the influence of the One Ring against his will, how it had taken control of his life and how he had fought against its influence until exhaustion, just to join the final battle weakened in body and spirit, still defending those he held dear, his mind once more clear from the foreign influence.
“He died a free man, standing tall and proud despite the many arrows piercing his body,” Legolas said softly as he ended his tale.
Clint shifted uncomfortably. He could easily see the parallels between the Boromir that Legolas remembered and himself, the way they had both been under somebody else’s control and influence, and it painfully reminded him of his time as Loki’s thrall. The difference between him and Boromir, though, was that Boromir was remembered fondly and with affection, and that he hadn’t killed dozens of his own men while under the control of the One Ring.
With some difficulty, he remembered Steve’s part of the conversation he had overheard, and how it did not fit in with his belief that people would be able to look past the attack on the Helicarrier, planned and executed not by Loki, but by him, that easily. He was still convinced that SHIELD and the Council behind it would have done a lot worse than just suspend him and put him under review if not for the Avengers.
Nobody would be telling tales about him anytime soon, that much was obvious to him, not just due to the need-to-know status of most of his activities.
“I shall,” Legolas said, making Clint realize that he’d spoken at least part of his thoughts aloud. “Upon my return to Middle Earth, I shall tell the tale of Fionhen, the man who was as good with a bow as the very best of the Elves, and who bravely fought evil, together with his fellowship of Avengers.”
Clint laughed almost despite himself. “Thanks, buddy,” he said before frowning. “What did you call me?”
“Fionhen,” Legolas repeated. “It means Eye of the Hawk in my tongue.”
“Fionhen. I like it.” Clint shook his head amusedly, his dark mood quickly disappearing.
“You should not forget about your friends,” Legolas advised. “I’m certain they would agree to tell your tale, if you wanted them to.”
Clint took a deep breath and slowly released it. “You’re probably right,” he admitted. “”Hey, what’s Black Widow in your language?”
Legolas smiled. “Morlhing. It means Black Spider.”
“Natasha will like that.” Clint tilted his head slightly to the side. “What about your name? Does it have a meaning?”
“It does. It means Greenleaf,” Legolas said and looked out of the open window, at the trees that gently rustled in the night air.
“Well, Mister Greenleaf.” Clint pushed himself off the wall and brushed a hand through his hair. “So far, you seem to be the only friend willing to tell tales.”
The offer was implicit, but Legolas still understood him perfectly well.
“I need time,” he said after a long moment of silence. “To get used to the thought that I might not return to my own world. But I am thankful to be counted among your friends, Fionhen.”
Clint nodded. “I understand,” he said. “Bruce and Tony are working on it.”
“It might be out of their powers.”
“It might,” Clint agreed. “But even then, you have friends here.”
Legolas didn’t reply.
He didn’t have to.
Clint left.
~*+*~
~*+*~
The call to arms came early in the morning.
“We didn’t track down the Tesseract yet,” Maria Hill’s voice informed them, “But there is suspicious activity downtown. I suggest you check it out.”
“Roger,” Steve replied.
Tony snickered before he snapped on his suit. “See you there.”
“What about Legolas?” Clint asked, already busy with pulling on his gloves, his wrist guard, and checking his arrows and his bow one last time.
“Bring him, leave him with the SHIELD-personnel on scene,” Hill ordered, her voice short and clipped. “What’s your ETA?”
Clint slipped into the pilot’s seat of the quinjet Tony had stashed on the roof of the mansion and started the pre-flight routines.
“Ten minutes,” he reported calmly before grinning up at Legolas, who was standing behind him with a curious expression on his face. Dressed in loose pants and a hoodie, he looked very much out of place between their uniforms. “You ever flown?”
“On the backs of the Great Eagles,” Legolas replied. “It is nothing like this.”
“I bet it isn’t,” Clint said, and then, they were off, Natasha, Bruce and Steve in the back and Legolas standing right behind Clint’s shoulder, with a white-knuckled grip on the seat underneath his long-fingered, slender hand.
~*+*~
Clint left Legolas with Agent Sitwell before hurrying up to the roof Steve wanted him on, to shoot enemies and to call out patterns as he saw them. Tony was already busy, flying spirals and corralling the creatures - “Are those tentacles?” - into an easily contained area. Steve and Natasha quickly joined him, working on the ground to push the tentacled creatures even further back and making sure none were left behind.
“This is like ‘Revenge of the Calamari’,” Tony grunted as he dodged a wildly flailing tentacle that threatened to swat him out of the air. “We should get some for lunch, or dinner, when we’re done here - Cap, you ever had calamari? Or, even better, sushi?”
“Less chatter, Ironman,” Steve replied, but he sounded more amused than annoyed.
Tony didn’t reply, too busy escaping from tentacles and fighting them off.
“I just wonder where those came from,” Natasha muttered. “Another portal by Loki?”
“Negative,” Sitwell cut in. “No portal activity. They came from the sewers.”
“They probably ate all the alligators down there,” Tony managed to gasp out. One of the tentacles had managed to sling itself around him and press him against a building, and it was now slowly squeezing him to death while pulling him along the wall, toward the giant mass on the ground making up the creature’s body.
“Ironman!” Clint called out sharply, an arrow nocked and ready. However, the tentacle moved jerkily and without apparent pattern, and Clint hesitated a split second before letting his arrow loose. He was certain his arrows couldn’t penetrate the Ironman armor, but he didn’t want to risk Tony’s life on that assumption.
Not that he would miss his target.
He was the Amazing Hawkeye, after all. He didn’t miss.
Nocking another arrow, he carefully aimed at the same tentacle when a blur of green and blue in the street under him caught his gaze. Allowing his attention to shift slightly away from Tony, he quickly recognized the blue hoodie and the long blond hair.
Legolas was armed with nothing but the two long knives he’d carried when they had found him, and he wielded them with great skill. Clint, who had learned a few tricks about bladed weapons during his time in the circus, couldn’t help being impressed.
Legolas easily cut through any tentacles getting in his way, slicing through what looked like muscles and tendons and steadily working his way toward Tony, who was still caught and who was cursing up a blue streak as the tentacle put even more pressure on his suit.
And Legolas didn’t even wear any kind of armor.
Clint bit back a curse and fired another volley of arrows, trying to help Tony out of his sticky situation. From his vantage point, he could see the glint of Steve’s shirt, the flashes of Tony’s repulsors, trying to get him free, and he could see Legolas.
“Help is on the way, Ironman,” he said, releasing another arrow, straight into the squishy mass trying to pull Tony in.
The Elvish knives whirled with deadly precision and accuracy through the air and through soft, giving bodies. A quick glance revealed that Natasha had followed Legolas’ example and was hacking her way toward Tony as well, but that she was still too far away from him to reach him before he was pulled into the creature’s body.
If anyone would be able to get to Tony in time, it would be Legolas.
The Elf surprised him. He almost seemed to be having fun, joining the battle without any kind of warning, and he was more than capable defending himself and attacking with those knives.
Clint coughed. “Sitwell? You lose something?” he asked before exhaling quietly through his nose and sending another arrow flying, pinning the tentacle around Tony to the building and triggering an explosion big enough to separate the tentacle from the creature.
Sitwell cursed quietly. “Do you have eyes on our guest?” he asked back as, at the same time, Tony gasped audibly as the tentacle uncurled from around his body and he fell toward the ground. Immediately, more tentacles curled toward him, only to be neatly sliced to pieces by Natasha, Steve and Legolas, giving Tony enough time to get his breath back.
Watching them, Clint thought as he let loose another volley of arrows, was like watching a highly dangerous ballet, or a group of trapeze artists. All three of them, Steve, Natasha and Legolas, moved with an easy grace, twisting out of the tentacles’ grasp and wielding their weapons of choice with breathtaking skills, and yet, he knew that any mistake they made would most likely end badly.
Trapeze artists, all of them.
~*+*~
Between the three of them and Clint’s arrows from above, it was only a matter of time before the tentacled creatures were contained and SHIELD was handling the clean-up.
~*+*~
“Debriefing on the Helicarrier,” Sitwell announced over the comm, and Clint rolled his shoulders as he slowly made his way down to the ground.
“You were supposed to stick with the agents,” he said mildly when he came to a stop next to Legolas, taking in the Elf’s appearance from head to toe. He seemed uninjured, his clothes without any visible rips or tears.
“There was danger,” Legolas replied calmly and wiped one of his blades down with a cloth.
“Yeah, that’s why you were...nevermind.” Clint sighed. “I didn’t know you were that good with those,” he then added, nodding at the knives.
“I think none of us knew,” Steve added as he stepped closer. “Big surprise.”
“But a good one,” Tony pointed out, rubbing his chest. “Thanks, Tinkerbell, for helping out back there.”
Legolas turned toward Clint. “Tinkerbell?”
~*+*~
“Your world’s weapons are loud and distasteful,” Legolas said when Clint let himself onto the range on the Helicarrier.
“Now you know why I prefer my bow,” Clint replied, unfazed. “How did the meeting with Fury go?”
“He is not the first Steward I offered my service to,” Legolas replied evenly. “Nor will he be the last.”
“So you told him what exactly? That you want to work for him?”
“Should there be no way to return to where I belong,” Legolas said with a small nod. “I shall take the good Captain’s advice and see this as an opportunity and not a punishment.”
“Yeah, points for attitude,” Clint muttered, when suddenly, his cell phone started ringing. Legolas twitched despite the fact that Tony had explained the concept of a cell phone to him earlier, and Clint forced himself not to smile as he answered the call.
“Hawkeye, Bruce has a lead on the Tesseract,” Tony told him. He sounded grim and breathless, probably because of the cracked ribs and the ruined armor from their last fight. “Surveillance cameras in the area show that Loki has opened another portal. The son of a …”
Clint didn’t waste any more time. He snapped the phone shut, shoved it back into his pocket and grabbed his weapon.
"There's danger." He brushed his fingertips along his bow. "I have to go."
Legolas tilted his head slightly. "What kind of danger?" he asked.
Clint hesitated briefly. "Loki," he finally said. "He stole the Tesseract and is using it to bring things to this world, remember?” He shook his head, remembering Tony explaining his and Bruce’s methods as Like sorcery, only good. Mostly.
His fingers twitched. He didn't have much time, he needed to hurry. His team needed him. "They found Loki, and he's bringing more creatures here. And they're looking less friendly than you are, pal."
Legolas frowned slightly. "How do you know that?"
"We have a way of watching him."
"A Palantír?" Legolas asked. "May I take a look at these creatures of whom you speak?"
Clint hesitated for a split second before making a decision, following the same gut feeling that had made him bring Natasha in instead of following his orders. Fury had ordered him to keep Legolas away from any further missions until further notice, but this was important for the Elf. This could be his ticket home.
"Sure." he nodded. "Come on."
Legolas was light on his feet and had no trouble keeping up with him, but then, Clint had already known that. They hurried to the bridge of the Helicarrier where the rest of the Avengers were waiting for their briefing. They were already in their uniforms, and before Steve or Fury could do more than give Clint a dark look for bringing their guest here, Legolas had stopped, his gaze focused on the screens showing Loki.
"Orcs!" he cried. "Foul creatures of Mordor!"
"You know these?" Fury asked, hints of incredulity and surprise mixing together in his voice.
"Indeed, I do." Legolas looked at him. "They are miserable beings, hating everyone and everything. They once were Elves, but they have been corrupted by Evil. These are Uruk-hai, the orcs of Mordor." His voice had hardened. "Master Fury, I have seen not much of your world, nor your weapons, but be assured that these creatures won't show mercy, especially not once they master your kind of weapon and spread throughout your lands."
"We need to stop them." Steve nodded toward the screen, where Loki was handing one of those grey-skinned, disfigured Orcs a heavy and dangerous-looking crossbow. "As soon as possible."
Natasha turned her head to look at Legolas. "Do you know how to kill them?" she asked calmly.
"Indeed, I do." Legolas nodded. "I slayed many an Orc with my bow."
"Do you have a uniform?" Steve asked, already on his feet and ready to get going, his shield held tightly in his hand, his fingers flexing around its straps.
Legolas straightened to his full height.
"Mortal," he said, as regally as he could, "I am an Elf of Mirkwood. What do you think?"
"That means yes, right?" Tony interrupted. "Because we should hurry up."
"Come on." Clint tugged Legolas' elbow to get him moving. "Let's get your stuff and get going."
They didn't have much time to spare.
Right before the door closed behind them, he heard Steve say, "I wish Thor was here. We could use him."
~*+*~
“Earpiece,” Tony said, holding the small piece of equipment up for Legolas to inspect. He had changed into one of his back-up suits and insisted that he was fine and that he would be able to do this mission.
Despite his doubts, Steve hadn’t commented on it.
“Works like a cell phone, and it’s non-negotiable. We all have one.” Legolas nodded, and Tony handed it over.
“Arrows,” Tony continued. “Stronger and lighter than what you’re used to. Hawkeye, I got some for you too.”
Clint nodded.
“And don’t get shot. I didn’t have the chance to make you some kind of armor,” Tony concluded with a critical glance at Legolas’ leggings and tunic.
Steve clapped Legolas on the shoulder. “Welcome to the Avengers,” he said before shrugging. “At least for now.”
“We’re here,” Natasha called out from the cockpit. “Dr. Banner, we might need the Hulk sooner than we thought.”
Legolas looked up from inspecting his new arrows to see Dr. Banner, the man responsible for tracking down the Tesseract, nod quietly.
Bruce Banner was a quiet man, Hawkeye had confirmed that when Legolas had asked. He was a scholar, but he still was part of this fellowship and this quest.
“Please try not to shoot at me,” Banner now said pleasantly, but Legolas could feel an undercurrent of darkness in him.
Banner didn’t wait for an answer. He walked calmly toward the hatch of the plane, and when it opened, he walked out onto the battlefield without weapons or armor.
And then, he changed in front of their eyes, into something else.
Legolas stared.
“He is a cave troll?” he asked. “I have never seen anything like this.”
“We call him Hulk,” Steve explained and pulled his cowl down over his face. “Please don’t aim for him, he’s still Dr. Banner and on our side. And he takes that kind of thing personally.”
“You’ll get used to him,” Clint quipped. “He likes to smash.”
“Legolas, Hawkeye, I want the two of you up high,” Steve said, effortlessly stopping the teasing and focusing on the task at hand.
“Their armor is weak at the neck and under the arms,” Legolas said as he followed Clint and Steve off the plane and immediately drew an arrow and let it fly, past Hulk and into the neck of an attacking Orc.
“Ew,” Tony commented before snapping the face plate up. “Seriously, these might be the most disgusting things we’ve had to deal with since this whole thing started.”
A block ahead of them, a horn sounded.
“That is the signal to start the battle,” Legolas explained calmly. “It has begun.”
Steve nodded. “Avengers,” he started, and then, they found themselves already surrounded by the foul creatures Legolas had called Orcs.
“For freedom,” Legolas muttered grimly, followed by a few words in Elvish.
“Amen to that,” Clint replied. His voice came through the earpiece and from the archer himself, causing Legolas to raise both eyebrows. There wasn’t time to do more, and he focused on the knife in one hand and the bow in his other.
“Let’s do this,” Steve said firmly and slammed his shield into the unprotected neck of an attacking Orc.
The Captain of America, Legolas saw, was a seasoned warrior who had led his men into battle countless times before. He stood tall and proud, the star on his chest widely visible, and he fought on the first line, like Aragorn had done so many times before. However, now was not the time to remember Aragorn, or Gimli, or the dear Hobbits, and get distracted by the grief the thought of never seeing them again brought him.
Now was the time for battle.
“High ground,” Clint reminded him, calmly shooting into the attacking horde of Orcs. None of his shots, Legolas’ sharp eyes saw, missed its target. “Let’s go.”
~+*+~
He hadn’t been aware that he was doing it aloud, keeping count of the slayed foes, or maybe he’d been too used to fighting alongside Gimli. The earpiece Tony Stark had given him was small and almost unnoticed in his ear, and Legolas was not used to the piece of magic and technology picking up every single sound he made.
“Remember, the priority is to find Loki and the Tesseract and stop him. Aim to catch him alive, we need him to get Legolas safely home,” Steve was just saying, his voice smooth and cool despite the fact that he was surrounded by ruthless enemies, when Tony Stark interrupted him.
“Excuse me, what exactly are you counting?” he asked, his curiosity focused on Legolas. It didn’t stop him from blasting two Orcs down before they could even raise their crossbows and aim them at the Hulk.
Natasha gave a very unladylike snort, followed by a point-blank shot to the face of the closest Orc. “Hits,” she said, and that was when Legolas realized that Tony had been talking to him.
“Sixteen. Seventeen,” he said, the string of his bow pulled tight as he aimed for the next Orc.
“Fourteen, fifteen,” Clint replied. “This time, I’ll get you.”
Again, it reminded Legolas of the friends he’d left behind, a sweet pain behind his breastbone that almost took his breath away. This, he thought while cutting another Orc’s neck, blood spraying, was true grief, and he was aware that it would be able to kill him, if he couldn’t find a way back home.
He had found friends here, but this world was not his own, and he would always miss the forests of Lothlorien, Fangorn and Mirkwood.
“Remember why we’re here,” Steve reminded them. “To find Loki and the Tesseract. This is not a game.” His speech was punctuated with slashes of his shield and the dull sound of impacting crossbow bolts and swordblades on its surface.
“Avengers, we have a lock on the Tesseract,” Maria Hill’s voice informed them.
“Twenty, twenty-one,” Clint counted. “I’m trying to get close to him.”
“Negative, Hawkeye,” Steve shouted. “We need you here. Ironman, can you handle Loki?” Behind him, Hulk smashed three Orcs with one he held by its ankle like a mace.
“Sure, why not.” Tony sounded as if Steve had just asked him to pass the sugar at the breakfast table, his voice relaxed despite the fact that he was being attacked by two Orcs armed with axes and rough broadswords. The integrity of the suit was not compromised, and Tony sidestepped one furious and uncoordinated attack with graceful ease as he activated the repulsors in his boots, to rise into the sky and out of the line of attack of the Orcs. He was jostled by a thick, black arrow glancing off his helmet, fired a rocket and caught the source of the attack straight in the middle of his barrel-like chest, pushing him full-force into a wall.
“Ironman, status,” Cap demanded. “Are you all right?”
“Peachy,” Tony replied, aiming to make his voice sound airy and unconcerned, but sounding mostly wheezy even to his own ears. His ribs were still hurting from the giant squid trying to hug him to death.
“ETA on Loki’s last confirmed position?”
Tony dodged another black arrow and sped off, toward the coordinates Jarvis was feeding him. “Should be just a few more minutes, I think,” he reported. “Unless these things adapt weapons that are more dangerous.”
“I don’t know,” Natasha replied. “The ones they have are dangerous and deadly enough.”
Clint was only vaguely aware of his teammates’ conversation. He’d registered it and, if asked, would be able to repeat it, but it was irrelevant to his own current situation. As long as his teammates were alive, and he had a purpose himself, he didn’t allow himself to worry too much about them. He knew they all could handle themselves.
Despite their bulk and their armor of metal plates, chainmail and thick leather, the Orcs moved with surprising speed while wielding their weapons with brute strength more than accuracy. They growled and howled in their own language, loud enough to be heard even from a distance, and the sound of their horns made him break out in cold sweat.
They were used to the fight and their experience worked in their favor, Clint thought. It compensated for their lack of strategy.
They also stank of rotting flesh and decay, and their stench was enough to make the people on the ground gag, even Cap and Widow who had seen so much in their lives.
Clint was grateful that he was so far removed from them and able to shoot them from a distance, which he did until his muscles burned with exhaustion and his eyes felt as if he’d been stabbed with hot-glowing needles. Sweat was gluing his uniform to his body and dripped into his eyes, adding to the burn.
The battle was not over, not by far, and he pushed the awareness of his exhaustion as far away from his conscious mind as he could without endangering himself or the others.
They were still in the middle of a battlefield, after all, and he wouldn’t help anyone if he keeled over without warning.
With an angry howl, a dozen Orcs stumbled onto the low roof he and Legolas were on. They must have had climbed the outside of the building, taking advantage of their blind spots, and now they were attacking relentlessly and without regard to their own health.
“Twenty-eight, twenty-nine,” he counted, moving smoothly and shooting them as quickly as he could.
From up close, their stench was even worse, their tiny beady eyes glinted like the hard shell of black beetles, and their deformed, grey faces looked even more nightmare-inducing as they had from a distance.
And yet, through his earpiece, Clint heard Steve giving orders, Tony talking at a speed not meant to be understood by mere mortals’ ears, and Legolas’ smooth voice, counting hits along with him - “Thirty-four, thirty-six” - and the sounds of his fellow Avengers grounded him even in the ruckus of battle, the grunts, screams and howls, the rattle of his own breath in his lungs, the metallic clank of metal against metal. He could hear Hulk roaring, Natasha made a comment, and Clint calmly reached behind himself.
His fingers closed around empty air.
He had run out of arrows, and he was still facing five more Orcs.
Orcs that were advancing on him, faces twisted in a caricature of triumphant grins; broken, blackened teeth and slick tongues like black maggots, slimy hair hanging limply around their faces.
Clint swallowed nervously and took a step back while reaching for his knife. He wouldn’t give up so easily, that much he knew - he would sell as skin as expensively as he could.
Behind him, he felt Legolas move, getting out his knives and getting ready to defend himself, his back to Clint’s.
A blur of black clothes and red hair appeared on one edge of the roof before the Orcs were close enough to attack. She lifted her arm steadily and, with cool precision, five shots rang out.
Natasha glanced at them, her face betraying none of the things she felt.
“Thirty-six,” she said.
Clint shook his head. “How do you do that?” he asked, but he didn’t expect an answer.
Natasha shrugged and handed him a loaded gun plus a few clips of ammunition.
“We’re out of arrows,” Clint reported.
“Understood,” Steve replied. He was breathing heavily, and before he could add a new order, a word of encouragement, or anything else, the sky darkened suddenly, black clouds building up with record speed until a thick blanket had formed and covered the entire sky.
Ragged edges of lightning fractured the scene, and distant thunder rumbled.
Tony whooped loudly, and then Hulk joined his cheer while smashing another Orc and the strange moment of stillness, the quiet before the thunderstorm, broke and the fight resumed with full force and brutality.
“We need to get closer,” Legolas cried out. “Into the battle!” He didn’t give them time to answer and jumped over the gap to another, lower roof swarming with Orcs, landing elegantly and starting to take out the Orcs along the roof’s edges before they could continue shooting at Hulk and Captain America.
“On our way down,” Clint reported dryly, exchanging a look with Natasha and following her on quick feet. Natasha chose the fire escape for their exit, and while they didn’t look quite as elegant as Legolas, they were only slightly slower. All three of them rejoined the fight on the ground, shooting and slashing and twirling out of the Orcs’ way as fast as they were able to.
The rush of blood in Clint’s ears was loud when he rolled out of the way of an Orc’s sword, his fingers grabbing the shaft of an arrow. He yanked it out of a corpse and used it to stab another attacker with gusto before he came back up to his feet.
Legolas danced closer, his knives glinting as he stabbed another attacking creature. He handed Clint a handful of Tony’s arrows - their dark tips told him that Legolas had retrieved them from the dead enemies piled up around them.
Clint nodded his thanks. It was all he was capable of doing before he threw himself back into battle.
“Guys, I found the Tesseract,” Tony reported. “No sign of Loki.” Static buzzed in their comms, but Clint couldn’t stop what he was doing to worry about it. He found himself surrounded by Orcs again, more coming up behind them. He could see Cap at the very edge of his vision, and he knew Legolas was on his other side and Natasha somewhere ahead of him, close to Hulk.
At the last possible second, he ducked from a swinging broadsword cutting through the air at the space where his neck had been only moments ago and brought his bow up with both hands.
The Orc’s axe clanked off the bow instead of splitting Clint’s head, and the force of impact made Clint fall backwards and sprawl out, dazed for a second.
The Orc howled in triumph and brought his weapon up again, ready to kill Clint, when bone-rattling thunder sounded out.
Seconds later, Thor was standing in the Orc’s place, his hammer having taken care of the threat, and Clint’s ears were still ringing.
“Are you well, friend Hawkeye?” Thor asked and reached a hand out to help Clint back to his feet, while swinging his hammer almost casually and throwing it into another Orc who was attacking Steve.
“Great,” Clint gasped. “Good to see you, Thor.”
Thor caught his returning hammer without looking in its direction.
Slowly, Steve fought his way over to them. His uniform was ripped in some places, blood turning the blue fabric dark, but he moved as if not hit at all.
“Good to see you,” he said and brought his shield up just in time to fight off another attack.
“These Orcs are relentless. They fear not death,” Legolas said as he came close as well, again sharing his collected arrows with Clint. Clint had no idea how he’d found the time to pick them up, but he was grateful nonetheless.
“Yeah, I noticed,” he replied. “Thor, this is Legolas, Legolas, Thor.” He focused on steadying his breathing for a split second. “Someone’s gonna tell you later where he came from, and what he’s doing here,” he managed to press out before engaging in battle again.
The fight seemed to have gone on for hours without a single break and without reprieve when Tony reported that the Tesseract was secure and that Jarvis couldn’t detect any active portals anymore, and that the flood of Orcs would soon slow down to a trickle. Minutes later, Tony himself touched down in the middle of their circle, Hulk following him only moments later.
It felt like a little homecoming, Clint thought, his hands shaking with exhaustion, and it was a good feeling, to have all of the Avengers together again. Legolas fit in with them seamlessly, and if it weren’t for the deadly battle against a still overwhelming foe they were currently caught in, he would have dared to smile.
~+*+~
The fight reminded Legolas of the battle at Helm’s Deep, where three hundred men had fought off an army of ten thousand or more.
He had learned a lesson then, about the strength of men when desperate, and he saw the same strength in the fellowship of the Avengers. The battle had lasted for the entire day, and yet, none of them had given in to weakness or tiredness. There had been many a close call, situations that for the span of a heartbeat seemed hopeless, but they had prevailed, and Legolas with them.
And now, with darkness falling and night looming, the last Orc was slain by the troll-creature Dr. Banner had transformed into, and silence had fallen over the battlefield.
The Avengers stood in a loose circle, most of them held up by stubborn determination alone. They wore all of them the signs of a battle hard-fought, blood, sweat and dirt caked into their skins and clothes.
The Man of Iron’s helmet opened, revealing Tony Stark’s pale and tired face.
“That was fun,” he declared, “anyone in the mood for pizza?”
~*+*~
If the owner of the little pizza place had any thoughts about the group of dirty, tired superheroes in his shop, he was smart enough to keep them to himself, or maybe Tony’s wallet had done the trick. The Avengers were quiet and exhausted, mostly just focusing on eating and staying awake, but Thor managed to tell them between bites that he was, once again, on Earth because Odin Allfather had sent him on a mission. To the Avengers’ great surprise, this mission apparently was not to catch Loki and bring him back to Asgard.
Loki had managed to escape before Ironman had reached his hide-out, and Tony had spent the rest of the day fighting off Orcs like the rest of them and closing portals. Loki’s escape had been hasty, and he had left the Tesseract behind. Over pizza, Tony told them how he’d dealt with twenty Orcs in a sewer and that he’d driven them straight into the arms of the lurking tentacled creatures down there. He also had to admit that he had needed to destroy Loki’s set-up in order to stop the flood of Orcs coming through, and that it was very likely that he’d cut off Legolas’ way home that way. Without Loki, they had no way of sending Legolas home, and none of them were comfortable with experimenting with the Tesseract, not after their previous experiences with it.
“So I shall stay in this mortal world, away from my own,” Legolas said softly. “I shall walk under its foreign sun until the end of the ages, never seeing the greatness of Ithilien or Lothlórien’s beauty again, or I shall choose a mortal life, to perish without having seen the Grey Havens or the shores of Valinor. The Halls of Mandos appear to be my fate.”
Silence greeted his words. Clint’s shoulders were tense and he wasn’t the only one who found himself unable to look the Elf in the eye.
“You’re welcome to stick with the Avengers,” Steve offered, but his voice sounded hollow. He knew how Legolas felt, how little his offer helped against the gaping longing in him.
“Maybe we can find a way,” Bruce mumbled, hunching his shoulders up. He wore a shirt that was too big on him, and he looked even more exhausted than the rest of them. “I mean, if Loki can do it, we can probably figure something out, too. Maybe. If we have enough time.”
Thor coughed. “If I may,” he said and set his slice of pizza down. “I shall now tell you about the mission Odin Allfather sent me on.”
He leaned back in his chair and thought for a second.
“My father’s house is visited by many a guest,” he said. “One of them is a mage who wanders between the realms. He is a well-liked visitor, a fierce warrior and a wise man, and Odin Allfather values his wisdom highly and searches his council when he comes to Asgard. Gandalf the World-Wanderer, he is called, although he has many names.”
Thor looked at Legolas. “Gandalf the World-wanderer told us a wondrous tale about a blue light taking away a friend from his realm, and he asked Odin for assistance on his quest to bring his friend back to where he came from. And so Odin sent me out, to search the nine realms for a single Elf, to assist Gandalf who has aided Asgard so many times before.”
“Gandalf!” Legolas said with obvious delight. “How is that possible?”
“We do not question the way of the mages,” Thor replied. “But he is a well-liked guest.”
Tony coughed, pizza forgotten. “Could this guy get Legolas home?” he asked.
“He is looking for him, after all,” Steve added, at the same time as Natasha demanded, “Is that guy trustworthy?”
“He is,” Legolas declared, the sadness leaving him like clouds disappearing from the sky. “Gandalf the White is one of my most trusted friends. He fought and led us in many quests and battles with wisdom and strength.”
“Okay, big guy, can you get Tinkerbell to this wizard guy, then?” Tony asked Thor.
Thor gave him a long and measured look. “That was the purpose of my visit to Earth,” he replied. “And with the aid of the Tesseract, we shall return to Asgard with haste.”
Tony nodded and balled up his napkin. “Let’s do it, then.”
~*+*~
“You must be really happy, being able to go home,” Clint said softly.
“I am,” Legolas replied. “And yet, I am sad to leave friends behind.” He stepped closer to Clint and smiled. “You have taught me much, and for that, I am grateful. But this is not my world.”
Clint lowered his eyes and fidgeted slightly before he reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a folded piece of fabric.
“Here,” he said. “Take it - you seemed to like it.” He felt awkward, knowing perfectly well that despite their attempts to give him some privacy, the other Avengers were listening in on his attempts to say his farewell to Legolas.
Legolas took the bandana and tucked it carefully away, into the folds of his tunic, before he reached out and curled his hand around Clint’s shoulder. “Already you have given me so many gifts,” he said. “Your friendship shall be the one I value most of all.”
“Yeah.” Clint coughed. “Likewise. You know.” He gave Legolas a small smile.
“Speaking of which,” Tony interrupted, giving up the pretence that he wasn’t listening. “Clint here has another gift for you.” He held up a quiver filled with arrows. “You seemed to like them, too.”
“Something you can use against the Orcs in your place. They are scarily effective, for not being trick arrows,” Clint said. “And they’re from all of us. Not just from me.”
“It was your idea,” Steve said gently and Clint swallowed. Steve definitely was a friend, someone who would tell good stories about Clint when he wasn’t there anymore. It had taken him a long time to realize that the Avengers really were more than just a bunch of weird co-workers, and he suspected it would need a lot longer to really sink in, but at least now he had the beginnings of understanding.
Legolas smiled again. “I shall give you a gift as well,” he decided as he hung the quiver over his shoulder, and with a quick, fluid move, he pulled one of his two long knives and offered it to Clint.
“Legolas...” Clint stared at the blade. “I can’t...”
“Yes, you can,” Legolas replied firmly. “I insist.” He reached out and folded Clint’s fingers around the handle. It felt warm in his palm, strong and reliable, and Clint almost missed Legolas’ next words.
“I shall tell your tale, and every friend who finds himself in this world will recognize a friend in you as long as you carry this.” He took a small step back. “Farewell, Fionhen.”
Clint nodded. “Farewell, Legolas,” he replied. “If you find yourself in this world again, call me, or something. Now that you know how to use a cell phone.”
Legolas bowed his head. “I will.” And then, he stepped up to Thor who was already carrying the Tesseract, took his hand, and together, they left in a haze of bright blue energy.
For a long moment, the Avengers remained frozen to their spots, and then, they did what they always had done after a long fight: they broke up, each and every one of them going their own way, but they all knew that they would return here eventually, joined by friends and fellow Avengers.
This was their homebase now, and these were the people who would tell each other’s tales.
And, Clint thought as he held the knife, his fingers wrapped securely around it, they would also tell Legolas’ story.
After all, he had fought with them and lived with them, and that had made him, albeit only for a short time, one of them.
An Avenger.
~end.
Legolas was singing, a haunting, achingly beautiful melody full of longing and foreign words Clint didn’t understand. The Elf was standing under the trees, still within sight of Clint, who had found a comfortable perch on one of the balconies of the mansion, hidden from view.
Legolas had been less than impressed with New York City and modern civilization, and the trip they had taken to the outside world, to SHIELD headquarters to find out if there was any news about Loki and the Tesseract, had been cut as short as possible. Steve had gone with them, as bodyguard and as someone who knew what kind of culture shock the world could be, but it hadn’t helped much.
Still, it was important, Clint figured, to slowly acclimate Legolas to the modern world, in case they couldn’t get him back home. Bruce reported steady progress in his tracking of the Tesseract’s gamma ray signature, but nobody, not even Doctor Selvig, knew how to open the damn thing to exactly the place Legolas had come from.
Even if they managed to find Loki, they might still be unable to complete this mission successfully.
They had met with Director Fury, who had pointed all of these things out to Legolas in a calm voice, stern but not unkind. Clint had great respect for Fury and the way he had handled the situation, but then, he’d expected nothing less from Fury, who, after all, had managed to lure Steve Rogers back to work for him despite the reveal of the Phase Two program.
A door opened somewhere under him and Clint identified Steve’s steps before he could see his silhouette. Steve waited for a brief moment, then made his way over to Legolas, keeping quiet until he had finished his song.
“We haven’t had the chance to really talk,” Steve said. “How are you doing with this kind of world?”
Legolas dipped his head slightly. “It is a very strange world,” he admitted. “I find myself at a loss quite often, I must admit.”
“I know how you feel,” Steve replied with a small snort. “I felt the same for a long time…since I woke up. But...for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here now.”
“Why?”
Steve folded his arms over his chest. “I’ve known Clint for several months now, ever since our first fight with Loki,” he explained quietly. Clint on his perch held his breath, curious as to where this was going. Eavesdropping, he knew, was not nice, but Steve was talking about him, and he was outside, in public, so to speak, and therefore, Clint reasoned, it was okay for him to listen in.
“He had...not been himself,” Steve continued. “But when we needed him, he was on our side, thanks to Natasha bringing him back to our side.” He stopped. “The details, you’ve got to ask him about,” he then said. “That’s Clint’s story to tell, as much as he can, and not mine. But in all those months since then, I’ve never seen him laugh so much like he did today, with you.”
Clint frowned. What was Steve talking about? He had laughed since that fight, hadn’t he? He was sure that he had. Nobody could spend all those months without laughing, right?
“You count him as a friend, then?” Legolas asked.
“I do,” Steve replied without hesitation. “A good friend.”
“He reminds me of a man who went on a quest with us. A good, proud warrior,” Legolas said, his voice melodic and sad. “Boromir was one of the best mankind had to offer. He died in battle.”
“You have to tell me more about him,” Steve said gently. “When the opportunity arises and it doesn’t bother you too much.”
“I shall,” Legolas promised.
Steve nodded. “He reminds me of Bucky, a little bit,” he admitted after a long moment of companionable silence. “Bucky died in battle, too. He was my best friend.”
“Having Clint as a friend is an honor,” Legolas said. “He is a good man. Songs shall be written about him.”
“I hope so,” Steve said before visibly straightening. “Anyway, what I wanted to say is, staying in this confusing world, if there is no way back...you should see it as a new quest, you know. Not a punishment.”
“You know?”
“I do.” Steve shook his head ruefully. “You might be able to go home, after all is said and done, but...” He shrugged. “I won’t. I’m stuck here, a man out of time. But there’s still good men, and...” He trailed off. “What I mean is, you’re always welcome to join me on my own quest to learn as much as I can about this strange new world we’ve both found ourselves in.”
And with these words, and a squeeze of Legolas’ shoulder, Steve turned to walk back to the mansion, leaving Legolas standing there and Clint hunched over in his hiding place.
He hadn’t known Steve counted him as more than a teammate or that he was still suffering from being frozen on ice for so long. He had suspected that Steve wasn’t as fine as he liked to pretend - no person being fine would watch so much late night TV as Steve regularly did, and Clint had found the other man in front of the TV often enough when he had been on the run from his own nightmares.
Everybody knew who Bucky Barnes was; but again, Clint hadn’t known that Steve saw something of his best friend in him. This night was full of surprises, he thought, and he swore to himself that he would take the time and sit down with Steve more often, making an effort to get to know the other man better.
Underneath him, Legolas started singing again, soft and thoughtful, his voice not interrupting the sounds of the night, but joining them and forming a harmony with them, and Clint settled in to watch and listen.
~*+*~
“Boromir, huh?”
Legolas looked up from the book in his hands and at Clint, who was leaning in the open door, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his jeans. Legolas’ eyes were silverish-light, his gaze bright and alien as they pierced Clint’s, until Clint had to close his eyes to escape from their kindness.
“Boromir was the best among his people,” Legolas said. “Tony Stark told me that the tale of the Ring War is known in this land. On this world.”
“Yeah.” Clint nodded without opening his eyes. “It is.”
“One day, I might wish to hear that tale,” Legolas admitted. “To learn if it differs from the truth, as tales sometimes are wont to do.”
Clint nodded. “They really do,” he said. “You really want to read about it? Maybe the you in the story is completely different from the real you, you know?”
“I do. That is, if I cannot go home, even when I fear it will pain me to read about those times.” Legolas took a deep breath. “Shall I tell you about the Boromir I knew?”
Clint made a go-ahead-gesture with a hand and dared to open his eyes slightly. He had read The Lord of the Rings when he had been younger, but he remembered Boromir only vaguely, for wanting to own the ring and for dying, protecting the Hobbits.
“Boromir, son of Denethor,” Legolas started, and then he fell into a tale of how Boromir had been a good man drawn under the influence of the One Ring against his will, how it had taken control of his life and how he had fought against its influence until exhaustion, just to join the final battle weakened in body and spirit, still defending those he held dear, his mind once more clear from the foreign influence.
“He died a free man, standing tall and proud despite the many arrows piercing his body,” Legolas said softly as he ended his tale.
Clint shifted uncomfortably. He could easily see the parallels between the Boromir that Legolas remembered and himself, the way they had both been under somebody else’s control and influence, and it painfully reminded him of his time as Loki’s thrall. The difference between him and Boromir, though, was that Boromir was remembered fondly and with affection, and that he hadn’t killed dozens of his own men while under the control of the One Ring.
With some difficulty, he remembered Steve’s part of the conversation he had overheard, and how it did not fit in with his belief that people would be able to look past the attack on the Helicarrier, planned and executed not by Loki, but by him, that easily. He was still convinced that SHIELD and the Council behind it would have done a lot worse than just suspend him and put him under review if not for the Avengers.
Nobody would be telling tales about him anytime soon, that much was obvious to him, not just due to the need-to-know status of most of his activities.
“I shall,” Legolas said, making Clint realize that he’d spoken at least part of his thoughts aloud. “Upon my return to Middle Earth, I shall tell the tale of Fionhen, the man who was as good with a bow as the very best of the Elves, and who bravely fought evil, together with his fellowship of Avengers.”
Clint laughed almost despite himself. “Thanks, buddy,” he said before frowning. “What did you call me?”
“Fionhen,” Legolas repeated. “It means Eye of the Hawk in my tongue.”
“Fionhen. I like it.” Clint shook his head amusedly, his dark mood quickly disappearing.
“You should not forget about your friends,” Legolas advised. “I’m certain they would agree to tell your tale, if you wanted them to.”
Clint took a deep breath and slowly released it. “You’re probably right,” he admitted. “”Hey, what’s Black Widow in your language?”
Legolas smiled. “Morlhing. It means Black Spider.”
“Natasha will like that.” Clint tilted his head slightly to the side. “What about your name? Does it have a meaning?”
“It does. It means Greenleaf,” Legolas said and looked out of the open window, at the trees that gently rustled in the night air.
“Well, Mister Greenleaf.” Clint pushed himself off the wall and brushed a hand through his hair. “So far, you seem to be the only friend willing to tell tales.”
The offer was implicit, but Legolas still understood him perfectly well.
“I need time,” he said after a long moment of silence. “To get used to the thought that I might not return to my own world. But I am thankful to be counted among your friends, Fionhen.”
Clint nodded. “I understand,” he said. “Bruce and Tony are working on it.”
“It might be out of their powers.”
“It might,” Clint agreed. “But even then, you have friends here.”
Legolas didn’t reply.
He didn’t have to.
Clint left.
~*+*~
~*+*~
The call to arms came early in the morning.
“We didn’t track down the Tesseract yet,” Maria Hill’s voice informed them, “But there is suspicious activity downtown. I suggest you check it out.”
“Roger,” Steve replied.
Tony snickered before he snapped on his suit. “See you there.”
“What about Legolas?” Clint asked, already busy with pulling on his gloves, his wrist guard, and checking his arrows and his bow one last time.
“Bring him, leave him with the SHIELD-personnel on scene,” Hill ordered, her voice short and clipped. “What’s your ETA?”
Clint slipped into the pilot’s seat of the quinjet Tony had stashed on the roof of the mansion and started the pre-flight routines.
“Ten minutes,” he reported calmly before grinning up at Legolas, who was standing behind him with a curious expression on his face. Dressed in loose pants and a hoodie, he looked very much out of place between their uniforms. “You ever flown?”
“On the backs of the Great Eagles,” Legolas replied. “It is nothing like this.”
“I bet it isn’t,” Clint said, and then, they were off, Natasha, Bruce and Steve in the back and Legolas standing right behind Clint’s shoulder, with a white-knuckled grip on the seat underneath his long-fingered, slender hand.
~*+*~
Clint left Legolas with Agent Sitwell before hurrying up to the roof Steve wanted him on, to shoot enemies and to call out patterns as he saw them. Tony was already busy, flying spirals and corralling the creatures - “Are those tentacles?” - into an easily contained area. Steve and Natasha quickly joined him, working on the ground to push the tentacled creatures even further back and making sure none were left behind.
“This is like ‘Revenge of the Calamari’,” Tony grunted as he dodged a wildly flailing tentacle that threatened to swat him out of the air. “We should get some for lunch, or dinner, when we’re done here - Cap, you ever had calamari? Or, even better, sushi?”
“Less chatter, Ironman,” Steve replied, but he sounded more amused than annoyed.
Tony didn’t reply, too busy escaping from tentacles and fighting them off.
“I just wonder where those came from,” Natasha muttered. “Another portal by Loki?”
“Negative,” Sitwell cut in. “No portal activity. They came from the sewers.”
“They probably ate all the alligators down there,” Tony managed to gasp out. One of the tentacles had managed to sling itself around him and press him against a building, and it was now slowly squeezing him to death while pulling him along the wall, toward the giant mass on the ground making up the creature’s body.
“Ironman!” Clint called out sharply, an arrow nocked and ready. However, the tentacle moved jerkily and without apparent pattern, and Clint hesitated a split second before letting his arrow loose. He was certain his arrows couldn’t penetrate the Ironman armor, but he didn’t want to risk Tony’s life on that assumption.
Not that he would miss his target.
He was the Amazing Hawkeye, after all. He didn’t miss.
Nocking another arrow, he carefully aimed at the same tentacle when a blur of green and blue in the street under him caught his gaze. Allowing his attention to shift slightly away from Tony, he quickly recognized the blue hoodie and the long blond hair.
Legolas was armed with nothing but the two long knives he’d carried when they had found him, and he wielded them with great skill. Clint, who had learned a few tricks about bladed weapons during his time in the circus, couldn’t help being impressed.
Legolas easily cut through any tentacles getting in his way, slicing through what looked like muscles and tendons and steadily working his way toward Tony, who was still caught and who was cursing up a blue streak as the tentacle put even more pressure on his suit.
And Legolas didn’t even wear any kind of armor.
Clint bit back a curse and fired another volley of arrows, trying to help Tony out of his sticky situation. From his vantage point, he could see the glint of Steve’s shirt, the flashes of Tony’s repulsors, trying to get him free, and he could see Legolas.
“Help is on the way, Ironman,” he said, releasing another arrow, straight into the squishy mass trying to pull Tony in.
The Elvish knives whirled with deadly precision and accuracy through the air and through soft, giving bodies. A quick glance revealed that Natasha had followed Legolas’ example and was hacking her way toward Tony as well, but that she was still too far away from him to reach him before he was pulled into the creature’s body.
If anyone would be able to get to Tony in time, it would be Legolas.
The Elf surprised him. He almost seemed to be having fun, joining the battle without any kind of warning, and he was more than capable defending himself and attacking with those knives.
Clint coughed. “Sitwell? You lose something?” he asked before exhaling quietly through his nose and sending another arrow flying, pinning the tentacle around Tony to the building and triggering an explosion big enough to separate the tentacle from the creature.
Sitwell cursed quietly. “Do you have eyes on our guest?” he asked back as, at the same time, Tony gasped audibly as the tentacle uncurled from around his body and he fell toward the ground. Immediately, more tentacles curled toward him, only to be neatly sliced to pieces by Natasha, Steve and Legolas, giving Tony enough time to get his breath back.
Watching them, Clint thought as he let loose another volley of arrows, was like watching a highly dangerous ballet, or a group of trapeze artists. All three of them, Steve, Natasha and Legolas, moved with an easy grace, twisting out of the tentacles’ grasp and wielding their weapons of choice with breathtaking skills, and yet, he knew that any mistake they made would most likely end badly.
Trapeze artists, all of them.
~*+*~
Between the three of them and Clint’s arrows from above, it was only a matter of time before the tentacled creatures were contained and SHIELD was handling the clean-up.
~*+*~
“Debriefing on the Helicarrier,” Sitwell announced over the comm, and Clint rolled his shoulders as he slowly made his way down to the ground.
“You were supposed to stick with the agents,” he said mildly when he came to a stop next to Legolas, taking in the Elf’s appearance from head to toe. He seemed uninjured, his clothes without any visible rips or tears.
“There was danger,” Legolas replied calmly and wiped one of his blades down with a cloth.
“Yeah, that’s why you were...nevermind.” Clint sighed. “I didn’t know you were that good with those,” he then added, nodding at the knives.
“I think none of us knew,” Steve added as he stepped closer. “Big surprise.”
“But a good one,” Tony pointed out, rubbing his chest. “Thanks, Tinkerbell, for helping out back there.”
Legolas turned toward Clint. “Tinkerbell?”
~*+*~
“Your world’s weapons are loud and distasteful,” Legolas said when Clint let himself onto the range on the Helicarrier.
“Now you know why I prefer my bow,” Clint replied, unfazed. “How did the meeting with Fury go?”
“He is not the first Steward I offered my service to,” Legolas replied evenly. “Nor will he be the last.”
“So you told him what exactly? That you want to work for him?”
“Should there be no way to return to where I belong,” Legolas said with a small nod. “I shall take the good Captain’s advice and see this as an opportunity and not a punishment.”
“Yeah, points for attitude,” Clint muttered, when suddenly, his cell phone started ringing. Legolas twitched despite the fact that Tony had explained the concept of a cell phone to him earlier, and Clint forced himself not to smile as he answered the call.
“Hawkeye, Bruce has a lead on the Tesseract,” Tony told him. He sounded grim and breathless, probably because of the cracked ribs and the ruined armor from their last fight. “Surveillance cameras in the area show that Loki has opened another portal. The son of a …”
Clint didn’t waste any more time. He snapped the phone shut, shoved it back into his pocket and grabbed his weapon.
"There's danger." He brushed his fingertips along his bow. "I have to go."
Legolas tilted his head slightly. "What kind of danger?" he asked.
Clint hesitated briefly. "Loki," he finally said. "He stole the Tesseract and is using it to bring things to this world, remember?” He shook his head, remembering Tony explaining his and Bruce’s methods as Like sorcery, only good. Mostly.
His fingers twitched. He didn't have much time, he needed to hurry. His team needed him. "They found Loki, and he's bringing more creatures here. And they're looking less friendly than you are, pal."
Legolas frowned slightly. "How do you know that?"
"We have a way of watching him."
"A Palantír?" Legolas asked. "May I take a look at these creatures of whom you speak?"
Clint hesitated for a split second before making a decision, following the same gut feeling that had made him bring Natasha in instead of following his orders. Fury had ordered him to keep Legolas away from any further missions until further notice, but this was important for the Elf. This could be his ticket home.
"Sure." he nodded. "Come on."
Legolas was light on his feet and had no trouble keeping up with him, but then, Clint had already known that. They hurried to the bridge of the Helicarrier where the rest of the Avengers were waiting for their briefing. They were already in their uniforms, and before Steve or Fury could do more than give Clint a dark look for bringing their guest here, Legolas had stopped, his gaze focused on the screens showing Loki.
"Orcs!" he cried. "Foul creatures of Mordor!"
"You know these?" Fury asked, hints of incredulity and surprise mixing together in his voice.
"Indeed, I do." Legolas looked at him. "They are miserable beings, hating everyone and everything. They once were Elves, but they have been corrupted by Evil. These are Uruk-hai, the orcs of Mordor." His voice had hardened. "Master Fury, I have seen not much of your world, nor your weapons, but be assured that these creatures won't show mercy, especially not once they master your kind of weapon and spread throughout your lands."
"We need to stop them." Steve nodded toward the screen, where Loki was handing one of those grey-skinned, disfigured Orcs a heavy and dangerous-looking crossbow. "As soon as possible."
Natasha turned her head to look at Legolas. "Do you know how to kill them?" she asked calmly.
"Indeed, I do." Legolas nodded. "I slayed many an Orc with my bow."
"Do you have a uniform?" Steve asked, already on his feet and ready to get going, his shield held tightly in his hand, his fingers flexing around its straps.
Legolas straightened to his full height.
"Mortal," he said, as regally as he could, "I am an Elf of Mirkwood. What do you think?"
"That means yes, right?" Tony interrupted. "Because we should hurry up."
"Come on." Clint tugged Legolas' elbow to get him moving. "Let's get your stuff and get going."
They didn't have much time to spare.
Right before the door closed behind them, he heard Steve say, "I wish Thor was here. We could use him."
~*+*~
“Earpiece,” Tony said, holding the small piece of equipment up for Legolas to inspect. He had changed into one of his back-up suits and insisted that he was fine and that he would be able to do this mission.
Despite his doubts, Steve hadn’t commented on it.
“Works like a cell phone, and it’s non-negotiable. We all have one.” Legolas nodded, and Tony handed it over.
“Arrows,” Tony continued. “Stronger and lighter than what you’re used to. Hawkeye, I got some for you too.”
Clint nodded.
“And don’t get shot. I didn’t have the chance to make you some kind of armor,” Tony concluded with a critical glance at Legolas’ leggings and tunic.
Steve clapped Legolas on the shoulder. “Welcome to the Avengers,” he said before shrugging. “At least for now.”
“We’re here,” Natasha called out from the cockpit. “Dr. Banner, we might need the Hulk sooner than we thought.”
Legolas looked up from inspecting his new arrows to see Dr. Banner, the man responsible for tracking down the Tesseract, nod quietly.
Bruce Banner was a quiet man, Hawkeye had confirmed that when Legolas had asked. He was a scholar, but he still was part of this fellowship and this quest.
“Please try not to shoot at me,” Banner now said pleasantly, but Legolas could feel an undercurrent of darkness in him.
Banner didn’t wait for an answer. He walked calmly toward the hatch of the plane, and when it opened, he walked out onto the battlefield without weapons or armor.
And then, he changed in front of their eyes, into something else.
Legolas stared.
“He is a cave troll?” he asked. “I have never seen anything like this.”
“We call him Hulk,” Steve explained and pulled his cowl down over his face. “Please don’t aim for him, he’s still Dr. Banner and on our side. And he takes that kind of thing personally.”
“You’ll get used to him,” Clint quipped. “He likes to smash.”
“Legolas, Hawkeye, I want the two of you up high,” Steve said, effortlessly stopping the teasing and focusing on the task at hand.
“Their armor is weak at the neck and under the arms,” Legolas said as he followed Clint and Steve off the plane and immediately drew an arrow and let it fly, past Hulk and into the neck of an attacking Orc.
“Ew,” Tony commented before snapping the face plate up. “Seriously, these might be the most disgusting things we’ve had to deal with since this whole thing started.”
A block ahead of them, a horn sounded.
“That is the signal to start the battle,” Legolas explained calmly. “It has begun.”
Steve nodded. “Avengers,” he started, and then, they found themselves already surrounded by the foul creatures Legolas had called Orcs.
“For freedom,” Legolas muttered grimly, followed by a few words in Elvish.
“Amen to that,” Clint replied. His voice came through the earpiece and from the archer himself, causing Legolas to raise both eyebrows. There wasn’t time to do more, and he focused on the knife in one hand and the bow in his other.
“Let’s do this,” Steve said firmly and slammed his shield into the unprotected neck of an attacking Orc.
The Captain of America, Legolas saw, was a seasoned warrior who had led his men into battle countless times before. He stood tall and proud, the star on his chest widely visible, and he fought on the first line, like Aragorn had done so many times before. However, now was not the time to remember Aragorn, or Gimli, or the dear Hobbits, and get distracted by the grief the thought of never seeing them again brought him.
Now was the time for battle.
“High ground,” Clint reminded him, calmly shooting into the attacking horde of Orcs. None of his shots, Legolas’ sharp eyes saw, missed its target. “Let’s go.”
~+*+~
He hadn’t been aware that he was doing it aloud, keeping count of the slayed foes, or maybe he’d been too used to fighting alongside Gimli. The earpiece Tony Stark had given him was small and almost unnoticed in his ear, and Legolas was not used to the piece of magic and technology picking up every single sound he made.
“Remember, the priority is to find Loki and the Tesseract and stop him. Aim to catch him alive, we need him to get Legolas safely home,” Steve was just saying, his voice smooth and cool despite the fact that he was surrounded by ruthless enemies, when Tony Stark interrupted him.
“Excuse me, what exactly are you counting?” he asked, his curiosity focused on Legolas. It didn’t stop him from blasting two Orcs down before they could even raise their crossbows and aim them at the Hulk.
Natasha gave a very unladylike snort, followed by a point-blank shot to the face of the closest Orc. “Hits,” she said, and that was when Legolas realized that Tony had been talking to him.
“Sixteen. Seventeen,” he said, the string of his bow pulled tight as he aimed for the next Orc.
“Fourteen, fifteen,” Clint replied. “This time, I’ll get you.”
Again, it reminded Legolas of the friends he’d left behind, a sweet pain behind his breastbone that almost took his breath away. This, he thought while cutting another Orc’s neck, blood spraying, was true grief, and he was aware that it would be able to kill him, if he couldn’t find a way back home.
He had found friends here, but this world was not his own, and he would always miss the forests of Lothlorien, Fangorn and Mirkwood.
“Remember why we’re here,” Steve reminded them. “To find Loki and the Tesseract. This is not a game.” His speech was punctuated with slashes of his shield and the dull sound of impacting crossbow bolts and swordblades on its surface.
“Avengers, we have a lock on the Tesseract,” Maria Hill’s voice informed them.
“Twenty, twenty-one,” Clint counted. “I’m trying to get close to him.”
“Negative, Hawkeye,” Steve shouted. “We need you here. Ironman, can you handle Loki?” Behind him, Hulk smashed three Orcs with one he held by its ankle like a mace.
“Sure, why not.” Tony sounded as if Steve had just asked him to pass the sugar at the breakfast table, his voice relaxed despite the fact that he was being attacked by two Orcs armed with axes and rough broadswords. The integrity of the suit was not compromised, and Tony sidestepped one furious and uncoordinated attack with graceful ease as he activated the repulsors in his boots, to rise into the sky and out of the line of attack of the Orcs. He was jostled by a thick, black arrow glancing off his helmet, fired a rocket and caught the source of the attack straight in the middle of his barrel-like chest, pushing him full-force into a wall.
“Ironman, status,” Cap demanded. “Are you all right?”
“Peachy,” Tony replied, aiming to make his voice sound airy and unconcerned, but sounding mostly wheezy even to his own ears. His ribs were still hurting from the giant squid trying to hug him to death.
“ETA on Loki’s last confirmed position?”
Tony dodged another black arrow and sped off, toward the coordinates Jarvis was feeding him. “Should be just a few more minutes, I think,” he reported. “Unless these things adapt weapons that are more dangerous.”
“I don’t know,” Natasha replied. “The ones they have are dangerous and deadly enough.”
Clint was only vaguely aware of his teammates’ conversation. He’d registered it and, if asked, would be able to repeat it, but it was irrelevant to his own current situation. As long as his teammates were alive, and he had a purpose himself, he didn’t allow himself to worry too much about them. He knew they all could handle themselves.
Despite their bulk and their armor of metal plates, chainmail and thick leather, the Orcs moved with surprising speed while wielding their weapons with brute strength more than accuracy. They growled and howled in their own language, loud enough to be heard even from a distance, and the sound of their horns made him break out in cold sweat.
They were used to the fight and their experience worked in their favor, Clint thought. It compensated for their lack of strategy.
They also stank of rotting flesh and decay, and their stench was enough to make the people on the ground gag, even Cap and Widow who had seen so much in their lives.
Clint was grateful that he was so far removed from them and able to shoot them from a distance, which he did until his muscles burned with exhaustion and his eyes felt as if he’d been stabbed with hot-glowing needles. Sweat was gluing his uniform to his body and dripped into his eyes, adding to the burn.
The battle was not over, not by far, and he pushed the awareness of his exhaustion as far away from his conscious mind as he could without endangering himself or the others.
They were still in the middle of a battlefield, after all, and he wouldn’t help anyone if he keeled over without warning.
With an angry howl, a dozen Orcs stumbled onto the low roof he and Legolas were on. They must have had climbed the outside of the building, taking advantage of their blind spots, and now they were attacking relentlessly and without regard to their own health.
“Twenty-eight, twenty-nine,” he counted, moving smoothly and shooting them as quickly as he could.
From up close, their stench was even worse, their tiny beady eyes glinted like the hard shell of black beetles, and their deformed, grey faces looked even more nightmare-inducing as they had from a distance.
And yet, through his earpiece, Clint heard Steve giving orders, Tony talking at a speed not meant to be understood by mere mortals’ ears, and Legolas’ smooth voice, counting hits along with him - “Thirty-four, thirty-six” - and the sounds of his fellow Avengers grounded him even in the ruckus of battle, the grunts, screams and howls, the rattle of his own breath in his lungs, the metallic clank of metal against metal. He could hear Hulk roaring, Natasha made a comment, and Clint calmly reached behind himself.
His fingers closed around empty air.
He had run out of arrows, and he was still facing five more Orcs.
Orcs that were advancing on him, faces twisted in a caricature of triumphant grins; broken, blackened teeth and slick tongues like black maggots, slimy hair hanging limply around their faces.
Clint swallowed nervously and took a step back while reaching for his knife. He wouldn’t give up so easily, that much he knew - he would sell as skin as expensively as he could.
Behind him, he felt Legolas move, getting out his knives and getting ready to defend himself, his back to Clint’s.
A blur of black clothes and red hair appeared on one edge of the roof before the Orcs were close enough to attack. She lifted her arm steadily and, with cool precision, five shots rang out.
Natasha glanced at them, her face betraying none of the things she felt.
“Thirty-six,” she said.
Clint shook his head. “How do you do that?” he asked, but he didn’t expect an answer.
Natasha shrugged and handed him a loaded gun plus a few clips of ammunition.
“We’re out of arrows,” Clint reported.
“Understood,” Steve replied. He was breathing heavily, and before he could add a new order, a word of encouragement, or anything else, the sky darkened suddenly, black clouds building up with record speed until a thick blanket had formed and covered the entire sky.
Ragged edges of lightning fractured the scene, and distant thunder rumbled.
Tony whooped loudly, and then Hulk joined his cheer while smashing another Orc and the strange moment of stillness, the quiet before the thunderstorm, broke and the fight resumed with full force and brutality.
“We need to get closer,” Legolas cried out. “Into the battle!” He didn’t give them time to answer and jumped over the gap to another, lower roof swarming with Orcs, landing elegantly and starting to take out the Orcs along the roof’s edges before they could continue shooting at Hulk and Captain America.
“On our way down,” Clint reported dryly, exchanging a look with Natasha and following her on quick feet. Natasha chose the fire escape for their exit, and while they didn’t look quite as elegant as Legolas, they were only slightly slower. All three of them rejoined the fight on the ground, shooting and slashing and twirling out of the Orcs’ way as fast as they were able to.
The rush of blood in Clint’s ears was loud when he rolled out of the way of an Orc’s sword, his fingers grabbing the shaft of an arrow. He yanked it out of a corpse and used it to stab another attacker with gusto before he came back up to his feet.
Legolas danced closer, his knives glinting as he stabbed another attacking creature. He handed Clint a handful of Tony’s arrows - their dark tips told him that Legolas had retrieved them from the dead enemies piled up around them.
Clint nodded his thanks. It was all he was capable of doing before he threw himself back into battle.
“Guys, I found the Tesseract,” Tony reported. “No sign of Loki.” Static buzzed in their comms, but Clint couldn’t stop what he was doing to worry about it. He found himself surrounded by Orcs again, more coming up behind them. He could see Cap at the very edge of his vision, and he knew Legolas was on his other side and Natasha somewhere ahead of him, close to Hulk.
At the last possible second, he ducked from a swinging broadsword cutting through the air at the space where his neck had been only moments ago and brought his bow up with both hands.
The Orc’s axe clanked off the bow instead of splitting Clint’s head, and the force of impact made Clint fall backwards and sprawl out, dazed for a second.
The Orc howled in triumph and brought his weapon up again, ready to kill Clint, when bone-rattling thunder sounded out.
Seconds later, Thor was standing in the Orc’s place, his hammer having taken care of the threat, and Clint’s ears were still ringing.
“Are you well, friend Hawkeye?” Thor asked and reached a hand out to help Clint back to his feet, while swinging his hammer almost casually and throwing it into another Orc who was attacking Steve.
“Great,” Clint gasped. “Good to see you, Thor.”
Thor caught his returning hammer without looking in its direction.
Slowly, Steve fought his way over to them. His uniform was ripped in some places, blood turning the blue fabric dark, but he moved as if not hit at all.
“Good to see you,” he said and brought his shield up just in time to fight off another attack.
“These Orcs are relentless. They fear not death,” Legolas said as he came close as well, again sharing his collected arrows with Clint. Clint had no idea how he’d found the time to pick them up, but he was grateful nonetheless.
“Yeah, I noticed,” he replied. “Thor, this is Legolas, Legolas, Thor.” He focused on steadying his breathing for a split second. “Someone’s gonna tell you later where he came from, and what he’s doing here,” he managed to press out before engaging in battle again.
The fight seemed to have gone on for hours without a single break and without reprieve when Tony reported that the Tesseract was secure and that Jarvis couldn’t detect any active portals anymore, and that the flood of Orcs would soon slow down to a trickle. Minutes later, Tony himself touched down in the middle of their circle, Hulk following him only moments later.
It felt like a little homecoming, Clint thought, his hands shaking with exhaustion, and it was a good feeling, to have all of the Avengers together again. Legolas fit in with them seamlessly, and if it weren’t for the deadly battle against a still overwhelming foe they were currently caught in, he would have dared to smile.
~+*+~
The fight reminded Legolas of the battle at Helm’s Deep, where three hundred men had fought off an army of ten thousand or more.
He had learned a lesson then, about the strength of men when desperate, and he saw the same strength in the fellowship of the Avengers. The battle had lasted for the entire day, and yet, none of them had given in to weakness or tiredness. There had been many a close call, situations that for the span of a heartbeat seemed hopeless, but they had prevailed, and Legolas with them.
And now, with darkness falling and night looming, the last Orc was slain by the troll-creature Dr. Banner had transformed into, and silence had fallen over the battlefield.
The Avengers stood in a loose circle, most of them held up by stubborn determination alone. They wore all of them the signs of a battle hard-fought, blood, sweat and dirt caked into their skins and clothes.
The Man of Iron’s helmet opened, revealing Tony Stark’s pale and tired face.
“That was fun,” he declared, “anyone in the mood for pizza?”
~*+*~
If the owner of the little pizza place had any thoughts about the group of dirty, tired superheroes in his shop, he was smart enough to keep them to himself, or maybe Tony’s wallet had done the trick. The Avengers were quiet and exhausted, mostly just focusing on eating and staying awake, but Thor managed to tell them between bites that he was, once again, on Earth because Odin Allfather had sent him on a mission. To the Avengers’ great surprise, this mission apparently was not to catch Loki and bring him back to Asgard.
Loki had managed to escape before Ironman had reached his hide-out, and Tony had spent the rest of the day fighting off Orcs like the rest of them and closing portals. Loki’s escape had been hasty, and he had left the Tesseract behind. Over pizza, Tony told them how he’d dealt with twenty Orcs in a sewer and that he’d driven them straight into the arms of the lurking tentacled creatures down there. He also had to admit that he had needed to destroy Loki’s set-up in order to stop the flood of Orcs coming through, and that it was very likely that he’d cut off Legolas’ way home that way. Without Loki, they had no way of sending Legolas home, and none of them were comfortable with experimenting with the Tesseract, not after their previous experiences with it.
“So I shall stay in this mortal world, away from my own,” Legolas said softly. “I shall walk under its foreign sun until the end of the ages, never seeing the greatness of Ithilien or Lothlórien’s beauty again, or I shall choose a mortal life, to perish without having seen the Grey Havens or the shores of Valinor. The Halls of Mandos appear to be my fate.”
Silence greeted his words. Clint’s shoulders were tense and he wasn’t the only one who found himself unable to look the Elf in the eye.
“You’re welcome to stick with the Avengers,” Steve offered, but his voice sounded hollow. He knew how Legolas felt, how little his offer helped against the gaping longing in him.
“Maybe we can find a way,” Bruce mumbled, hunching his shoulders up. He wore a shirt that was too big on him, and he looked even more exhausted than the rest of them. “I mean, if Loki can do it, we can probably figure something out, too. Maybe. If we have enough time.”
Thor coughed. “If I may,” he said and set his slice of pizza down. “I shall now tell you about the mission Odin Allfather sent me on.”
He leaned back in his chair and thought for a second.
“My father’s house is visited by many a guest,” he said. “One of them is a mage who wanders between the realms. He is a well-liked visitor, a fierce warrior and a wise man, and Odin Allfather values his wisdom highly and searches his council when he comes to Asgard. Gandalf the World-Wanderer, he is called, although he has many names.”
Thor looked at Legolas. “Gandalf the World-wanderer told us a wondrous tale about a blue light taking away a friend from his realm, and he asked Odin for assistance on his quest to bring his friend back to where he came from. And so Odin sent me out, to search the nine realms for a single Elf, to assist Gandalf who has aided Asgard so many times before.”
“Gandalf!” Legolas said with obvious delight. “How is that possible?”
“We do not question the way of the mages,” Thor replied. “But he is a well-liked guest.”
Tony coughed, pizza forgotten. “Could this guy get Legolas home?” he asked.
“He is looking for him, after all,” Steve added, at the same time as Natasha demanded, “Is that guy trustworthy?”
“He is,” Legolas declared, the sadness leaving him like clouds disappearing from the sky. “Gandalf the White is one of my most trusted friends. He fought and led us in many quests and battles with wisdom and strength.”
“Okay, big guy, can you get Tinkerbell to this wizard guy, then?” Tony asked Thor.
Thor gave him a long and measured look. “That was the purpose of my visit to Earth,” he replied. “And with the aid of the Tesseract, we shall return to Asgard with haste.”
Tony nodded and balled up his napkin. “Let’s do it, then.”
~*+*~
“You must be really happy, being able to go home,” Clint said softly.
“I am,” Legolas replied. “And yet, I am sad to leave friends behind.” He stepped closer to Clint and smiled. “You have taught me much, and for that, I am grateful. But this is not my world.”
Clint lowered his eyes and fidgeted slightly before he reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a folded piece of fabric.
“Here,” he said. “Take it - you seemed to like it.” He felt awkward, knowing perfectly well that despite their attempts to give him some privacy, the other Avengers were listening in on his attempts to say his farewell to Legolas.
Legolas took the bandana and tucked it carefully away, into the folds of his tunic, before he reached out and curled his hand around Clint’s shoulder. “Already you have given me so many gifts,” he said. “Your friendship shall be the one I value most of all.”
“Yeah.” Clint coughed. “Likewise. You know.” He gave Legolas a small smile.
“Speaking of which,” Tony interrupted, giving up the pretence that he wasn’t listening. “Clint here has another gift for you.” He held up a quiver filled with arrows. “You seemed to like them, too.”
“Something you can use against the Orcs in your place. They are scarily effective, for not being trick arrows,” Clint said. “And they’re from all of us. Not just from me.”
“It was your idea,” Steve said gently and Clint swallowed. Steve definitely was a friend, someone who would tell good stories about Clint when he wasn’t there anymore. It had taken him a long time to realize that the Avengers really were more than just a bunch of weird co-workers, and he suspected it would need a lot longer to really sink in, but at least now he had the beginnings of understanding.
Legolas smiled again. “I shall give you a gift as well,” he decided as he hung the quiver over his shoulder, and with a quick, fluid move, he pulled one of his two long knives and offered it to Clint.
“Legolas...” Clint stared at the blade. “I can’t...”
“Yes, you can,” Legolas replied firmly. “I insist.” He reached out and folded Clint’s fingers around the handle. It felt warm in his palm, strong and reliable, and Clint almost missed Legolas’ next words.
“I shall tell your tale, and every friend who finds himself in this world will recognize a friend in you as long as you carry this.” He took a small step back. “Farewell, Fionhen.”
Clint nodded. “Farewell, Legolas,” he replied. “If you find yourself in this world again, call me, or something. Now that you know how to use a cell phone.”
Legolas bowed his head. “I will.” And then, he stepped up to Thor who was already carrying the Tesseract, took his hand, and together, they left in a haze of bright blue energy.
For a long moment, the Avengers remained frozen to their spots, and then, they did what they always had done after a long fight: they broke up, each and every one of them going their own way, but they all knew that they would return here eventually, joined by friends and fellow Avengers.
This was their homebase now, and these were the people who would tell each other’s tales.
And, Clint thought as he held the knife, his fingers wrapped securely around it, they would also tell Legolas’ story.
After all, he had fought with them and lived with them, and that had made him, albeit only for a short time, one of them.
An Avenger.
~end.