Prologue:

Some warriors are created like well-made swords – forged in fire. The strongest of these are the ones who walk through the hottest of flames; forged in the fires of Hell, taken from the blaze, hammered once more and returned to the flame to be remade again.

They are among the strongest... But what none of them will ever admit to, the very flames that made these warriors the strongest in existence are so hot that it leaves behind a weakness. If you hammer just so, you will shatter iron and leave nothing in its wake.

Chapter one:

Catalina Santana looked around the archery room as she stepped inside, fingers wrapped loosely around the bow in her hand, but with a moment's notice ready to draw. Not that she thought she would need to, even if she could hear the sounds of a bow being drawn, she was pretty sure the agent she'd come to see wouldn't shoot her. She couldn't see him, couldn't find him in the inky darkness of the room, but she knew he was there. Holding the bow slightly away from her to make it obvious she wasn't a danger to him she swallowed hard.

"Agent Barton? I'm Catalina Santana," She said quietly. They'd told her he was okay; but she knew that he'd lost his partner. She had no interest in startling a trained killer with her appearance when he was guilt ridden and grief stricken.

Clint tensed at the sound of her voice as he studied the woman before him from his vantage point on the platform behind her. While she was young, if she were older then 25 he'd eat his bow, she moved with a fighter's grace that spoke of long training. Tilting his head slightly as he listened to her speak he swallowed the grief that nearly gutted him. Listening to her was like listening to Natasha, even if the girl was American, there was something in her voice, the way she shaped the words that sounded of the Russian highlands. Looking around the room that both him and Natasha had designed, he swallowed hard; he didn't want to train someone else in here. The room was a personal training ground, one that had been designed for him, small targets, big targets, fast moving ones, slow moving ones... Everything an archer of his skill could want.

Quietly he watched the woman turn her head ever so slightly – listening. She knew he was here, hearing him probably, but her instincts, and senses weren't well trained yet. She was tall, not as tall as him, or Natasha had been, and not as muscled as she should be. She had skills but she was still green. He doubted this girl had seen battle, let alone a war. Looking at the long blond hair that was bound up into a tight braid he made a face, wondering if he could force her to cut it. After all, long hair just gave the enemy a handhold to work with. Finally moving he silently crossed the platform to walk down the stairs behind her.

"You need to work on your other senses. Eyes and hearing are not everything. Your sense of touch and awareness, you could have easily realized where I was long before I moved...We'll work on that." Clint's voice was flat, his face blank. But in his eyes there flickered something more, they spoke of a deep pain and of a man who'd lost his entire world.

"You're an archer, and an archer cannot always rely on sight. In fact, more often than not, you will be as blind as a bat trying to find your prey."

Catalina turned slightly as she heard him approach, finding him as he moved, frowning at him. While she wanted to lash out as she met his eyes she saw the pain, saw the knowledge that separated them, though she was only seven years his junior. In that moment it felt like a lifetime. Tilting her head slightly he swallowed the retort, because she knew Fury had sent her here, despite everyone thinking Clint Barton should still be on leave, because he wanted her to learn from the best, and no one could deny he was the best archer in SHIELD – if not the world.

Clint turned away from her, moving further into the room. "This is the archery room. You will practice now, so I can see how much talent you really have. Fury's letting his 'talent hunting' slip a little low these days." He goaded, smirking ever so slightly as he watched anger flair through green eyes, daring her to say something.

"You have one minute, from the time I say green, to the moment I say red. Once I say green, you will try to hit as many targets as possible, as close to the center as you can get. It will give a good picture of how well you work under pressure. Ready? Green." Clint said simply watching her. While she needed more practice, she was good. With the right training, she could be world class.

Looking around the room Catalina raised a bow, similar to his, though more slender and lighter, made to fit a woman's hand. Though not nearly as well muscled as him, she stayed in shape enough to pull the bowstring back. Watching the target move for a moment, not the quick split second targeting Clint could do, she needed a few moments, but with her shot she found the target. Not perfect aim, but close, and she even had managed to 'kill' Loki, somewhat amused that Clint had pinned a few pictures of the Jotun sorcerer onto some of the targets.

"I think I like this room." She decided after he told her to stop.

"We're going to have a lot of work. Your arm gets tired too easily and that's when your aim starts to falter. We'll work on endurance, muscle memory, and strength. Of course you like this room, it's an archer's paradise. Focus." He ordered simply. "We'll work on sensory deprivation as well, which will heighten your senses. Since you, as most are, so dependent on your eyesight, that is what we will work on first. You have a room already?"

"I do." Catalina frowned looking at the man in front of her, wondering why in the world he wanted to know.

"Good. I want to see you here again in an hour. Bring every weapon you own for examination, if you have weak weapons, they'll be replaced. I will teach you more than just archery, because sometimes arrows run out, and you need something for close quarter combat." He admitted as studied her before making her leave.

Watching her go he wondered if he could actually get through training her when the slight tinge of a Russian accent made him want to cry. He missed Natasha, and as he watched the blond woman leave, he forced down his emotions even more.

Catalina rolled her eyes a little as she walked back into the room looking at the man sitting on the bench waiting for her. Silently she dumped a short sword onto the bench, along with the two hunting knives, a couple throwing knives and a small hand bow that could be fired with one hand. Glancing at Clint for a moment as he started to examine her weapons, she was content with the silence as she started looking around the room. Her fingers twitched ever so slightly as her eyes found a target, imagining practice. Not totally spacing out, she was just waiting for him to finish. Not wanting to burden the man who wanted nothing to do with her more then she already was.

Frowning slightly as he glanced up at Catalina, he looked vaguely annoyed as he watched her twitch, thinking it wasn't a good sign, before realizing that she was target practicing without having a actual bow. Good. That would make things easier, as she was eager to learn. He could push her harder, faster that way. Running his fingers over the blade he looked amused to find that they were all well-balanced, hand crafted weapons. "Good choices. But we're going to be adding long range, and short range guns to your arsenal as well. You might not carry them, but if you run out of the weapons, you can pick up a gun from fallen enemies or allies." He admitted before handing her the throwing knives back.

"Show me." He ordered.

"You do realize you could ask, and not demand," she mused.

"Just throw."

Nodding slightly Catalina paused, balancing the knives in her hands before flicking a wrist, watching the knives turn end over end, thudding into each other nearly. While her aim suffered some with a bow, she'd spent a lot of time learning how to throw knives.

"Not that bad. I've seen worse." Clint admitted begrudgingly – an almost compliment. "We'll work on that as well. Come with me. We'll test your hand to hand skills." He ordered before walking out of the room, not even bothering to wait to see if she'd follow.

By the time she was through with hand to hand, Catalina was feeling bruised and battered, not only in body but her pride had taken a beating as well. She'd been so proud of herself, but one glance at Clint and the other trainer, Frank, the woman hadn't realized just how far behind she was. Not realizing that while Clint and Frank were superior to her in skill and ability she was a step above most other people.

Shooting a glance at the man standing next to her, annoyance and anger radiating from her gaze as she expected anything but praise whilst leaning forward to let her bloody nose drip into her cupped hands.

"You don't want to work with me, which is fine. I don't want to work with a man who's going to hate me for something I can't change. But we're stuck, and we're going to have to learn how to at least work together. I refuse to be miserable learning from one of the best agents in SHIELD." Catalina said sounding angry and defensive, before huffing out a sigh as he moved to her side. "Now that I've gotten that out of the way, go ahead and tell me how horrible I am." She muttered resentfully, expecting him to try and convince her she was so bad that she'd just give up and quit.

"Pinch the bridge of your nose where the firmer bones are, it'll close off the capillaries and stop the bleeding." Clint ordered, completely ignoring the rest of her words about him hating her. "And I'm not the best SHIELD has to offer, that's a lie they tell you to make you feel special." He studied her for a long moment." You have a long way to go in comparison to people like Frank and me but you're head and shoulders above what most of the 'grunts' at SHIELD have to offer. Were you just a normal agent, you would already be done with training, but as you're above the standard for idiots and cannon fodder you wont be a normal operative. You are a specialist, and therefore you will be trained high above that standard..." Clint paused. "Stop smiling at me Frank before I rip your spine out."

The smile vanished quickly, even as the other trainer watched the two new partners. "Right now, you're sore, tired, and grumpy. Good. It means that you understand your place, as of right now – it's at the bottom. Fortunately for you, that doesn't mean that you have to fetch coffee, and run paperwork."

"Oh good, I hate coffee and paperwork, its good to have others for that." Catalina mused as she wiped her nose, glad to see that it had stopped bleeding, shooting a glance towards her trainer.

Clint didn't physically react to the joke, though there was a flash of amusement in his eyes at her comment. "I'll show you what you'll be capable of once your training is finished." Clint said as he moved towards Frank, the two moving through the workout with lighting quick moves, punches too fast to follow. And when Frank hit the mat Clint wasn't even breathing hard. Glancing over at his trainee he tilted his head slightly, "Once you can beat Frank, I will know that I can let you loose on the world and not have to worry about you dying a stupid death." He said to Catalina even as he stepped over Frank who was lying on the floor groaning.

"Quit being a baby Frank. Drama queen." Clint said looking amused as he glanced down towards Frank before looking back at Catalina. "Tomorrow you'll receive a schedule. You will follow that schedule to the letter, if you're late, miss something, or don't show up, I will hunt you down, drag you there, and you will be severely punished." And you do not want to be punished." Clint leaned forward his face inches from hers, blue gray met green as trainer and trainee studied each other.

"I'm sure you'd be the most unpleasant person to come looking for me. Don't worry I'll be where ever I'm told to be." She said determinedly paling as little as she did so. After a few moments Catalina didn't jerk away from the man hovering in front of her, flushing slightly as her mind took a detour and for a moment considered what kind of punishment he could inflict.

"The only way you get out of training is if I'm on a mission… Not that I'm going to be on any with me 'messed up'..." He grumbled the last bit, something that she wasn't supposed to hear. "Or if you're too injured or sick to train. In the case of that happening, you had BEST be in the hospital ward. Now. Go get a hot bath, bitch about my unfair attitude to people who might give a damn, and be in the archery room at 7 am, on the dot. Or earlier. Understood?"

"Understood." She tilted her head slightly as she watched him straighten, before standing up. "I'll see you in the morning, Hawk." Catalina said smiling slightly as she walked stiffly out of the room, not because she was angry, but she was sore. Not even realizing that she'd tagged him with a nickname, or that the action had caused both Frank and Clint to stare after her.

A/N: So once again I have a new story, and a whole new fandom to work on. once again this story wouldn't exist without my rp partner, Moon, and many thanks to x-butterflykisses-x for Hope to see you for the next chapter!^^