I don't own the Avengers or the Lord of the Rings. They belong to Marvel Comics and John Tolkien respectively.

Chapter II: The Captain of America

Steve Rogers had been riding his motorbike when he was taken from Earth. It should then come as no surprise to anyone that he stumbled and fell to the ground when he arrived at his destination. Steve had fast reflexes, granted, but even they were only worth so much when faced with a sudden change of position and equilibrium that you aren't expecting. Still, even as he hauled himself back upright after basically kissing the dirt, Steve had to take a few seconds to overcome his utter confusion.

Before this, Steve had been riding down a paved street in New York. Now he was on a lightly trodden pathway in a dark forest. It was in that moment that the sights and sounds began to really penetrate his mental fog again. There was a fierce battle going on. On one side were monsters of some sort who were attacking ferociously. A small group of people with pointy ears were defending their position from the monsters. Another creature, small and ugly, appeared to be sneaking off in the confusion.

Steve found himself facing a choice. As he saw it there were three options. Option one was to help the monsters to attack the defenders. This held little appeal to Steve. Frankly the monsters bore a faint resemblance to the Chitauri, which was enough to make him less inclined to aid them. Option two was to help the defenders to defeat their apparent enemies. This held more appeal. The defenders, despite the pointy ears, resembled ridiculously pretty humans and were obviously outnumbered, calling out to Steve's instinctive desire to champion the underdogs.* The third option was, of course, to stay out of it and act like the situation was none of his business.

In the end, Steve chose to help the outnumbered humanoids. That decision snapped him back into action. While he was unarmed, Steve had picked up a fair bit of unarmed combat when fighting with the Howling Commandos. That, combined with his extraordinary strength, allowed him to survive the fight long enough to get hold of a weapon. A single, over-powered kick to the chest sent a monster flying, its weapons dropping to the ground as it flew. The monster's armour saved its life, but Steve had what he wanted… the monster's shield. The shield was not going to be nearly as good a throwing tool, nor was it anywhere near as indestructible as his real one, but Steve's fighting style was shield-centred, and so it made him feel better.

A slam of his stolen shield knocked another monster to the ground as Steve swept up a dropped sword. He knew instinctively that the sword was both a necessity and a problem. The shield Steve was carrying was vastly inferior to his own shield, and so he needed a more standard weapon to compensate. On the other hand, Steve's fighting experience was limited to hand-to-hand, his shield and standard military firearms. He was faintly wishing that he had spent more time learning from Hawkeye than the Widow, since the Battle of New York. He could clearly see several bows on display in the fight, but was all but certain that he would have even more trouble with them.

A slash of his sword ended the life of another monster, even as he slammed his shield into the gut of another. It was times like this that he was grateful for the gift of the super soldier serum. If he was facing this battle with a normal body, his woeful sword skills would have seen him dead. Instead, he was able to clumsily beat back attacks from some frankly more skilled opponents simply because he was strong enough to power through an otherwise effective defence.

Steve glanced about, trying desperately to keep a handle on his situation. His erstwhile allies were now three people strong, led by a fierce, red-haired woman. They had been five when he had first arrived, but the enemy was too many to save everyone. The enemy was now down to about half a dozen. More than a dozen others had already fallen on that side.

His allies were a pair of archers, including the redhead, and a swordswoman. Steve managed to link eyes with the swordswoman and wordlessly conveyed his thoughts. She nodded, apparently understanding his wordless expression, and the two of them deliberately threw themselves between the monsters and the archers. This would hopefully allow the archers to be more effective. While Hawkeye had taught him that an archer could be very effective at close range if they were trained for it, the fact was that they were far better off at long range.

The gambit paid out rather well, allowing the four remaining fighters to kill all but one of the monsters that they were fighting. The swordswoman was engaging the last when Steve heard the hint of a noise over at his right. A glance showed that there was another monster, previously unaccounted for, aiming a bow at the swordswoman. Steve reacted on instinct, flinging his shield fiercely at the enemy archer. The result left the monster pinned to a tree**, his bow snapped asunder by the fierceness of Rogers' throw.

Steve turned back to his companions, happy to see that the swordswoman, in addition to being alright, had managed to dispatch her opponent while he had dealt with the archer. The redheaded leader was shouldering her bow as she walked over to him, speaking in a language he could not understand. Apparently recognizing that he could not understand her, she spoke again in what was recognizably a different language. This process continued through two more languages until she finally hit upon English. "I am Tauriel, daughter of Thindrulas. I am the Captain of the Guard in the realm of Thranduil the Elvenking."

Steve attempted a reassuring smile. "I'm Captain Steve Rogers of America. If might ask, Ma'am. What exactly are you?" The answering frown made Steve continue quickly. "No offence meant, Ma'am. I've just never met someone of your race before. And I've never heard of the kingdom of Thranduil either."

The woman continued to frown deeply before she answered, her voice laced with suspicion. "I have never met a man, nor any other race, that did not know of the Elves. You are now in Greenwood the Great, which is under the rule of King Thranduil. We are Elves, as I said. You have been of great aid to us Steve, son of Rogers, Captain of America. Because of that, I will ask that you join me and come before my King, to answer as to why you are here in the Greenwood."

Steve hesitated slightly, sensing that being caught trespassing in this King's realm was not going to be taken well. "And if I refuse your invitation, Ma'am?"

The elf smiled faintly. "Your presence and assistance has likely saved my life and that of my kinsmen. At the very least, you saved the life of Lisiriel. Because of that, I will allow you to leave if that is your wish."

Steve sensed that there was something else behind her smile, some hidden consequence he was missing. In the end though, it mattered little. Visiting the Elvenking was as good a first step as any towards getting back to home from whatever the Greenwood was. "It would be an honour to meet with your King, Ma'am."

Tauriel's smile became slightly more genuine. "Then come, Captain. We should be able to reach the King Thranduil by nightfall…"

* Steve's automatic siding with the beings that look the most human may seem rather racist, but realistically, it happens in fiction. When confronted by fellow humans (or people who look a lot like humans) facing an alien race they know nothing about, the natural response is often to help the humans. In Stargate SG-1's 'Forsaken', SG-1 automatically assumes that the humans are the good guys, at first. They later discover they were mistaken and correct it, but it was still there response.

** Think of when Aragorn gets pinned by the Uruk-Hai shield in The Fellowship of the Ring

And now we see what's happened to Cap so far.

Jasper