Widowed King - Avengers and Hobbit
Widowed King
Inspired by: "A Mirkwood Elf in Tony Stark's New York, f/k/a Broken Soulmarks" by tamarama and "Written with Love on Your Skin" by amusewithaview
Author's Notes: This story has been a long time coming (think summer 2014), and its existence is entirely my dad's fault; he is absolutely awful at coming up with lovely plot bunnies and then never having any intentions of writing them, so I simply have to. (On the plus side, I have no problems finding a beta. Thanks, Dad!) This idea came about when we were discussing soulmate/soulmark stories in general, and a Darcy Lewis/Legolas story in particular. Then Dad started wondering about other MCU/elf pairings, and it sort of spiraled out of my control from there. Enjoy!
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Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel or the Lord of the Rings universes.
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Blinking away his disorientation, King Thranduil of the Greenwood surveyed where he had ended up. Mere moments ago, he had been in his kingdom's magical treasure vault, investigating why one of the least dangerous objects was throwing off enormous amounts of power. Unfortunately, one of the bursts of magic caused him to lurch forward and accidentally touch the finicky object before its guardian told him its purpose. After a flash of light, another surge of magic that hopefully did not destroy his castle, and the most appalling case of vertigo he had ever had the displeasure to experience, he ended up… here. Short, carefully spaced trees dotted the terrain, and a path near a lake cut through the bright green grass. Worryingly, tall monoliths of what appeared to be shining metal and glass towered over the trees, and he did not recognize the style at all.
Of course, the fiendish, orc-like abominations terrorizing a group of human children not thirty meters away quickly became his most pressing concern. He may not like other species, but even he was not so cruel as to allow children to be harmed.
Grimly drawing his faithful blade, he attacked with all of the physical and magical might that elf warriors gain over their very long lives.
The monsters never stood a chance.
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"How is the clean up going, Tony?" Captain America asked his flying ally. The most recent New York crisis had involved Diablo with his Alchemical Earth-Golems in Central Park during a busy afternoon. Amazingly, there seemed to be no deaths and few injuries, and most of those had been caused by people running away from the monsters and not the monsters themselves.
"So far, so good, Cap!" the billionaire answered cheerfully. "But you might want to head due north. There's a whole bunch of dead golems and a tall blonde with a sword instead of a hammer who looks like he took them out and protected a bunch of kids." After a short pause, he added, "At least, I think it's a he. Guy's got some incredibly long hair."
"I'm on it," Steve answered and trotted north.
Easily spotting the figure (and that was some incredible hair; how on Earth did he manage to fight in it?) and confirming to Tony that yes, that was definitely no woman, he carefully made his way through the throng of overwhelmed, star-struck kids. After a few minutes, their caretakers managed to pry them away to go home, and Steve was able to finally reach the silently watching man. "Excuse me, sir? My name is Captain America, and among other things, I'm here to thank you for protecting the kids."
"No warrior worthy of his title would allow children to harmed, regardless of their species," the blonde answered coldly.
Species? Steve wondered, having picked up on the foreign accoutrements and pointed ears as he neared. "I have to agree with that, but it's still appreciated. And not a lot of people could fend those monsters off. Also, I'm going to have to ask you to come with me. I don't mean you any harm, but you don't look human, and since humans are supposed to be the only intelligent species on Earth, anyone else is usually asked a bunch of questions to make sure they aren't another villain. Are you willing to come with me Mr…., I'm sorry, I didn't get your name," Steve probed innocently.
The glare he received clearly showed the other man's lack of humor. "I am Thranduil, King of the Greenwood. I will go with you if you have any information on magic that could have brought me to this world."
Steve winced. A king, right. This should be fun. "We have some information on magic, and even some on planetary travel. Unfortunately, most magic users tend to be villains or… unusual individuals. Again, King Thranduil, are you willing to come with me and my team?"
"That will suffice," he answered with a small nod. "Lead on, Captain."
Turning away with a barely-concealed sigh, Steve let everyone with an earpiece know about their new guest. At least life's never dull.
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Natasha watched everyone else in the room with dispassionate eyes. In the middle of the room, Fury and their dimensional guest stood toe-to-toe, both of them bristling with restrained anger and snide remarks. Ordinarily, she supposed, Tony would be adding his own inflammatory remarks to the whole mess, but he and Bruce were both distracted by the inherent excitement in cross-dimensional travel and everything they could learn from it. Thor had excused himself as soon as they had arrived back at the tower, siting his desire to check on the Ladies Jane and Darcy, and privately mentioning to her and Steve his dislike of all elves. Considering how loose tempers were already running, she rather hoped the passionate thunder patron would take his sweet time in coming back.
Clint skulked nearby in the shadows (Natasha was impressed that he was able to find shadows in the well-lit conference room), and Steve himself appeared to be utterly lost as to what to do next. Neither of the two arguing men were near to blows, and unless someone did throw a punch, the captain could not intervene between Fury and his opponent.
Fortunately, Natasha possessed skills more subtle than shoving people apart.
Studying their guest once more, she coolly admired his appearance. While beautiful, his long, blonde hair appeared obscenely impractical for battle; however, the hair was the only impractical thing about him. His robes fit him easily, simultaneously providing him easy movement and concealing his body's outline. His face showed only anger, but not any of the confusion and even fear that she would expect of someone thrust into a new world so alien to his own. Finally, he moved with a careless grace that only the best operatives could claim, betraying his fighting capabilities to those who could read that sort of body language. As she watched, he flung his hand out in emphasis, brushing it past the sword that hung perfectly on his hip.
Her gaze sharpened as she took in the engraved hilt; she recognized the style decorating it, although she had only ever seen it once in her life.
"…and as a king, I am unused to dealing with minions, no matter how impressive their leather fetish may be."
Realizing that the verbal sparring was approaching a boiling, the Black Widow decided to use her observations and personal skills to defuse the ballooning tensions. Quietly, she padded up to the elf, rolling up her sleeve as she went. Once within range, she waited patiently for a moment to be acknowledged. When her target rudely ignored her, she stepped boldly into his personal space and thrust her right inner arm into his face. "Can you read this?"
Glaring at her, Thranduil snapped, "Of course I can! It's in Elvish, you twit."
Undeterred, she kept the arm up. "So what does it say?"
Evidently deciding to humor her, he actually read as opposed to glanced at her Words. "It says, 'Of course I can! It's in Elvish'… Erunya!"
As the elf's already pale face turned deathly white, Natasha started searching for a chair herself. Of all the possibilities, she had truly not thought that her soulmate would be a tall, trans-dimensional alien with a snappy attitude. Rallying her tattered poise in the face of her shocked teammates and boss, she managed to ask, "May I see your words?"
"No." The blunt, totally unexpected answer managed to shock her into silence.
Fortunately, Clint had regained his mental footing by then and stalked toward her obstinate soulmate. "And why the hell not?! It's kind of the thing to do in this sort of situation."
Thranduil regained some color in his cheeks. "It would not be… appropriate to show the lady my Mark."
Unhelpfully, Fury chose this moment to break into raucous laughter, which heralded the immediate return of the blond elf's furious glare. Pulling himself together, the one-eyed man smirked, sending a feeling of slight foreboding down Natasha's spine. "Mr. Thranduil. As of right now, Agent Romanoff is assigned to be your liaison and guide for however long you might be on Earth. You will be given quarters in Avengers Tower that suit everyone's needs and sensibilities. If you want to get home faster, I suggest that you cooperate with all of our scientists and any magical authorities that we bring in."
The director smiled like a shark. "And let me be the first to congratulate you on finding your soulmate. If you hurt her, I will assist her in whatever measures necessary to disposing of your already cold body.
"Welcome to Earth, and I hope you enjoy your stay on our planet."
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Author's Notes 2: Dad was in charge of picking the villain who could get ahold of an army of orc-like monsters, so he chose Diablo (canon) with his Alchemical Earth-Golems (not canon). Thanks to the website Parf Edhellen for helping me with my one Elvish word. According to it, "Eru" is "The One," probably in a holy sense, and "-nya" is a suffix that shows possession in the first person. So "Erunya" is "My God." Thranduil does start off in Central Park, and I glossed over his fight (and all others) because I didn't want to write it. Assume that he was awesome. Oh, and yes, his soulmark is on his butt.
In this fic, I chose to believe that it's after "The Avengers" in the MCU and AU for all following movies, and it's before "The Hobbit" in LotR. Why? Because while I currently have no plans to continue this storyline, I really, really like the idea of a captured Thorin Oakenshield having to deal with the Black Widow.