Hello all and sorry for the delay! April has been a shit show, to say the least. Work has been insane and I've been bouncing around at the doctor all month long...a swap in medication has had my system on the fritz. I've barely had time to write anything new but felt I should at least give you another chapter. It's been so hard to write lately and I very much hope I find the time and inspiration to sit down soon.

Nat sat patiently while the healers danced fevered circles around her and Galadriel.

"Really, I'm fine." She assured yet another healer who came by to check her pulse.

Her heart had beat like the pounding hooves of a racing thoroughbred, drumming violently in her chest until she'd finally calmed in the warm embrace of Haldir's body. The throbbing rush of blood in her skull had finally subsided. Her skin was no longer clammy and cool from shock; he'd warmed her, heated her blood with his closeness. Her stomach had long since settled. She felt mostly back to normal. Nat actually felt better than normal, lighter and clearer, as if some extraordinary weight had been lifted from her. She'd expected to feel raw and exposed but it was entirely the opposite. She wondered how much of it was Galadriel's doing and how much of it was Haldir.

The healer beside Galadriel poured her a generous cup of hot tea. The female still looked pale but she had bounced back nearly as quickly as Natasha. Her husband hovered close by and with him, across the room, was Haldir. Just the look of him sent her heartbeat tripping and stirred her blood. Feeling her gaze he looked up to catch her eyes and that tripping beat went instantly to pound. Her stomach clenched along with her heart. The corner of his mouth lifting was the only outward sign of his acknowledgment of the feelings coursing through her. This was neither the time nor the place for such things but he was just as distracted as she by the strength of their connection.

That kiss.

Good lord that kiss had burned her straight through to her toes and terrified her with its depth. He'd enveloped her, consumed her, and lifted her up from a barren wasteland of death. He'd breathed life into her heart.

Even now he soothed her with his thoughts as he seamlessly continued his conversation with Celeborn.

The depth of the bond between them astounded him. How had it grown so strongly between them so quickly? It had grown despite the darkness, desperate to connect, desperate to hold on, it had grown stronger in the shadow. Now brought to light and uninhibited it burned between them in hot tangible cords.

There was no questioning it now.

He knew they were meant and if he took her to bed, joined his body with hers, they would be as good as married. There would be no holding back the bond that seemed so determined to permanently fuse between them. There would be no turning back for him. His only path forward was to convince her of the same. He watched out of the corner of his eyes as he washed over her. Watched as her eyes fluttered and she rolled her neck in relaxation. Deep male satisfaction surged through him at her response. She felt for him, more than she'd say but there was no hiding her fear and worry at the depth of their connection. He could feel her deep-rooted affection for him, guarded with caution and tainted by fear, but full-bodied with tenderness, respect, attraction, admiration, and the wild rush of lust. His instincts to protect and soothe were beating at him but he had to tread carefully now. There was everything to lose or everything to gain.

Their bond had surged straight to his head like the sturdiest of red wines. She was a potent rush to his system and had thrown him off balance with her intensity, an effect she seemed to commonly have on him.

A healer approached Nat with a cup of tea of her own.

"What's in it?" She didn't want a sedative or a soother that would put her to sleep. The last thing she wanted was to rest, she felt energetic and refreshed. Her body was humming with energy, vibrating with it. What she wanted was to get out of here and find an outlet for all the energy she had built up inside her.

The healer spoke softly, her voice muted but Nat didn't miss the shaky vibrato, as she pushed the cup toward her with trembling hands. Nat held her hand up and shook her head.

"No, I'm fine thanks."

The healer's brows creased agitatedly and she pushed the tea toward her forcefully at the same moment Nat waved her hands to dismiss the female healer. The cup of scalding tea knocked against her hand; the steaming liquid splashed across her palm and wrist. Nat hissed in pain even as she caught the cup and the saucer the female had dropped.

On her knees in front of Nat, she spoke frantically as she took the cup and saucer from Nat's scalded hand. When their hands brushed the female flinch hard.

"It's alright." Nat assured calmly. Her hand was suddenly wretched to the side and gripped in Haldir's familiar warmth.

"I'm fine." She assured him as he turned over her scalded flesh. The redness was already fading before his eyes and the blisters reabsorbing into her skin as she spoke. His hands were cool but his touch sent a tidal wave of heat rushing through her.

Would it always be like this? Would she always feel this overwhelming want for him? It was a pure shock to her system. She couldn't damper it, didn't want to. Nat had spent a lifetime pretending and for the first time, with him, she didn't want to and didn't have to. He knew her, felt her, more acutely than anyone ever had and despite everything she'd done, everything she was, he accepted her. She could feel it in her bones.

Nat saw the surprise on his face at the healing state of her skin. Minor wounds healed incredibly quickly, it was only the deep lacerations, organ damage, or broken bones that took time. With no other injuries to heal, her body was focusing its full efforts on this single damaged area.

The wound would be healed in less than five minutes.

"How?" She closed his hand over his to stop his softly spoken question from going any further in front of the healers. They needn't know her personal business. She sent him an imploring look that said very plainly, later.

With shaking hands, the young healer quickly sorted through salves and clean bandages. She babbled incoherently in her native tongue in a soft rushed voice that trembled with nerves. The healer was young by elven standards, wide-eyed, nervous, and various other things that told Nat that there was something more happening.

"I'm fine." She held out her hand as proof. "Look for yourself." Natasha set her hand on the poor female's arm and gave her a reassuring squeeze. The healer cringed and pulled away violently.

Nat held up her hands innocently, she had obviously hurt this female somehow. Nat looked to Haldir for an explanation as the other healers swarmed around the youngling.

"What is she saying?"

His face was unreadable but his emotions were intensely defensive. Whatever she was saying unsettled him.

"Nothing." He said forcefully. "Nothing that matters."

"Tell me what she's saying." Nat demanded circling around him to the female who skidded backward from her in a rush. She pitched herself against an empty bed to hold herself up. Something was wrong, and it was most definitely about Natasha. Elves were not naturally clumsy.

Galadriel stood from her bed and issued a short command. Some of the other healers surrounded the young female and helped her back to her feet. A surge of power flowed through the air, Nat recognized the feel of it as Galadriel's.

"Natasha, leave it be." Haldir should have known her better than to think she would drop this.

She watched the female's eyes fill with pain and she rambled even faster.

"Haldir." Nat implored. What was wrong with her?

Haldir put himself between the two of them providing as much of a barrier between them as he could manage. Cleared now of Sauron's darkness her emotional grid was projecting louder than it ever had, and for those sensitive enough to hear them, being near her was a difficult thing to manage. The flare of pain from the scalding tea had projected onto the inexperienced empath and with it an echo of Natasha's most recent traumas. Haldir had felt it and through their connection, the flare of pain had clenched around his heart like an icy fist. The young healer clearly had a highly sensitive gift, one that she hadn't yet learned to master. But he knew Natasha, knew her pain and her purpose, and for him, the pleasure and wholeness of their bond far outweighed the discomfort of her traumas. He used their bond to buffer her emotional output and smother it with soft affection.

"She's an empath...an incredibly strong one. She says….She says you bear tremendous pain and that she can barely stand to be in your presents. She can not bear for you to touch her and that death clings to you, pulls you down, drowns you in sorrow." He dare not go on and instead silenced the young female with a single, deadly ice-filled stare. In their own tongue, he commanded, as gently as he could manage. "Remove yourself if it is too much for you to endure."

The young female stood on weak knees. "My brother is under your command...He told me of Helm's Deep. There is talk amongst your warriors of what she did at the border to that Uruk-hai. They say she is capable of great and terrible things, of death and tremendous destruction." She braced herself against the nearest bed and breathed deeply to center herself. "She shadows your light, Haldir Galahon."

He took a half step closer. What right did she have to judge Natasha or him? She knew nothing of their sacrifices or their lives. This young healer wasn't old enough to have experienced the hardships of war, to have felt the guilt of surviving when your brothers and loved ones had perished. She knew nothing of the darkness of the world. Not everyone had the privilege of living a life so unscathed. "Your brother perhaps failed to mention that it was also this very woman you've so readily scorned, that saved his life, scores of others...including my own. She carries the weight of grief and the darkness that individuals like yourself are too weak to bear. She has done, and will do, whatever is necessary to defend our people, to defend you and everything you hold dear." The male in him would defend Natasha to the edges of reason. "Can you say the same?"

They both knew she couldn't.

Sensing his growing frustration Nat settled her hand on his arm. His temper was running hot and high. Whatever the female had said it had set him off. Clearly, there was more going on here than what he had told her. She stepped to his side, still gripping his arm firmly. He turned to her, temper flared in his eyes but for her, there was still softness.

"I will escort you back to your talan for the evening." He turned to Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn. "Unless you would rather her attend the council in which case I will take her to the meeting hall." Anything to get her away from the empath before he let his tongue get carried away.

Lady Galadriel's gaze was harsh. She knew first hand the pain Natasha carried, knew her deepest sorrows and her most violent truths but she also knew that this young healer should have been skilled enough to block Natasha out. Wise and experienced Lady Galadriel felt nothing she didn't want to. "Council begins in just over an hour. Use your time wisely with her as you alone will attend."

He snapped to respectful attention. "My Lady. My Lord."

Haldir covered Natasha's hand on his arm and silently pleaded that she follow him without question. Her grip tightened on him but she followed him smoothly down the stairs. His irritation prowled inside him, ready to pounce, ready to strike. The male in him was eager to defend but he knew better than to try and assert himself in some wild display. There would be a lot to get used to and this deep-rooted need that had awoken inside him would be one of them.

They were well out of earshot and halfway down the stairs when she finally spoke.

"What just happened Haldir?" He released her hand and walked down two more steps. He was silent for a long moment in which he crossed his hands against the small of his back. His tension was evident.

"Haldir?"

How could he even begin to explain himself? Words had never been his strong suit. Explaining himself was something he had rarely done until recently and it had all been in regards to her. She pushed him and challenged him in ways he'd never expected.

She waited as he gathered himself. Nat could see the wheels turning in his mind. He was always thinking, internalizing, and planning. He was immensely private, a result of his commanding role. He was the one others relied on, the one others reported to. Where before his internal working had been more private now they were clear to her. There was a regimented style in his conduct that indicated to her that personal matters, his personal life, was something he'd ignored or bypassed altogether. The similarities in the two of them in that regard were almost comical. How could two such capable people in all other facets of life seem to struggle so immeasurably when it came to personal intimacies?

Nat stepped down a level to him, unsure of how to comfort him but the need was there. She simply didn't know how to address it, to address them, and so it seemed neither did he.

His back stiffened a subtle shift of powerful muscles beneath his shirt as he navigated the remnants of his temper. The move reminded her of a large jungle cat, tensed and coiled with power. Capable of nearly anything but patient and strategic even when it felt backed into a corner.

Haldir blinked long and slow, trying to clear his mind. There was little else he could do but show her. Turning he faced her and popped open the cuffs of his shirt. He rolled up his sleeves to expose the muscled length of his forearms. Seasoned from centuries of battle and training, his flesh eagerly pebbled with the anticipation of her touch.

"Close your eyes." It was a gruff response as if he'd swallowed gravel.

There was a heavy silence between them, potently heated and anxious.

"Please." He met her eyes, held those vivid green irises with his.

When her lids fell shut he grasped her hands in his own, palm to palm. The instant they were skin to skin the heat of their bond flared between them. He slid his hands up the length of her arms, enjoyed the feel of her beneath his hand, and gripped her below the elbow, naturally, she followed suit. Golden light illuminated the darkness behind her eyes. Warmth invaded her, slowly spreading from his palms up her biceps. It rolled down her shoulders and licked down the length of her spine. Nat made a noise deep in her throat, her hand flexed over his firm flesh as it filled the empty hollows inside her, as he filled her with the depth of his affection. His respect, admiration, lust, his frustration, his need...all of it filtered through her luminous and bright. She felt all of his doubts and fears. In that moment he was completely transparent to her.

"What do you know of the bonding of elves?" He was breathless as he bared himself to her. God's above what magic it must be to be fully mated. Now he understood more fully his brother's inability to remain out from underneath his wife's skirts. Just this small skin-to-skin act sent his blood roaring.

She whispered his name. Astounded at the breadth of his feelings for her, their depth, and the genuine soul-baring way he presented himself. This was him, all that he was, all that he couldn't put into words, and he hid none of it from her because, down to his soul, he trusted her. Fully. Unequivocally.

Nat wanted nothing more than to reassure him, to show him that they were one and the same, that she felt for him as he did for her. She gathered herself and hoped her feelings echoed into him as his did through her.

"Natasha, what do you know?" She could feel him inside her, tugging, pushing, filling. It terrified her and thrilled her simultaneously. This was beyond anything she could have imagined, the burning, the aching, the wild need that rode the pounding rhythm of her heart. It was too much.

She opened her eyes, wide and dazed, and met his brilliant blues set regally atop his high cheekbones. How could someone so outrageously beautiful, inside and out, feel so much for someone like her? He was everything good and right in the world. He was the brilliance that drove out the dark. The warrior and heart of his people and by some insane miracle or just freak chance...he wanted to be with her. He accepted her for the woman she was and the woman she wanted to be. Admired her for all she had endured and even more for what she endeavored to do. And she….she didn't deserve him. Didn't deserve the opportunity to be given the precious gift of his heart.

"Not much." She spoke softly, overwhelmed and too caught up in the feel of him to think about anything but his skin against hers. "Legolas told me about his parents. That elves that marry for love can bind their souls to their partners, your people mate for life and in some cases even into the beyond, that you follow the one you love even into death."

His thumb stroked over the length of her arm.

Her delicate skin tingled in its wake.

"My people develop romantic relationships slowly, growing the bond between them over decades and in some cases centuries of courting. We ensure that the one our heart has chosen is also the love of our fea. When the time is right, couples choose to bind their fea's to one another, to connect the very essence of themselves with their mates and bring two singular entities into one. This connection, the bond, often manifests itself as a brilliant light. Elves are children of the stars and we hold their light in our fea. When I held your soul to the light at Helm's Deep I found that I did not want to part with you. I knew that I should but found that I could not, I recognized something in you and felt more, needed more. My selfishness began a series of events that I could not have predicted."

Regretfully, he released his hold on her arms and gave her the space he knew she'd need for the next part. Slowly, he pushed his sleeves back down and carefully rebuttoned them.

"In the days that followed, it became clear to me that what was growing between us was more than the after-effects of what little magic runs through my veins but the impossibility of us as an immortal and a mortal made me question the very foundations of everything I knew. I was angry; how could the Gods that I'd served for thousands of years be so cruel as to make me want, make me crave, someone that I could not have? I tried to forget, tried to cut you out from beneath my skin, tried to ignore you, but you always ambushed me when I wasn't expecting it."

He stepped up to level with her on the stairs and beheld the woman who beguiled him fully. "You drove me nearly to madness three days ago. I felt everything you felt." He'd heard his name on her tongue as she'd found blissful release, it hadn't been an illusion nor wishful thinking. His denial had driven her into the arms of another. Jealousy, outrageous and robust filled him.

"I apologize only for intruding into your privacy...unknowingly you projected your...intimacies to me because I did not know, nor realize at the time, what was happening between us. There was simply no opportunity to explain."

"I told you once, and I'll say it again, I won't apologize for what I did. The human women of my world have been sexually liberated for decades and my behavior is perfectly acceptable to my own standards." If she'd known that the mere thought of him would drag him into her experience she would have put him from her mind but it had been him she'd wanted. Him that had come to mind when Ingrid had pierced her with her fingers and brought her to orgasm with her tongue. Ingrid had rung her dry until she'd mindlessly fell into a dreamless sleep only to be woken again and subjected to her impatient hands.

He watched her eyes glaze and a deep rumble escaped his throat. "I would appreciate it immensely if you wouldn't think about him in my company."

"Him?" Natasha scoffed in disbelief, crossing her arms over her chest and a light clicked on in her mind. "You honestly think I was with Gramm?"

"It does not matter who he was, elves have relations outside of marriage and it would be ridiculous to hold you to elven or human conventions but knowing you've been with another...and experiencing it with you...knowing another male had his hands on you, that he brought you pleasure...those are two very different things. I see only my own faults in your actions. If I had only known what I'd done and the path I had thrust the both of us down, perhaps things would have been different." They'd wandered dangerously off-topic. This was not the conversation he had intended to have on the stairs of the healing ward. He said as much, "None of this is the point I was intent on making."

"I wasn't with Gramm." She nailed him with her eyes. "I was with Ingrid. I was with a woman, Haldir."

He stared in silence for a moment. He wanted so badly to touch her but knew her preference for space, felt her need for it now.

"Unconventional." He lifted a brow. "But not unheard of..." He wouldn't say aloud that he was glad it hadn't been Gramm. The image of her with that human man had hounded him for days. Haldir thanked the stars he didn't have a face to put with the name. "I'm doing a poor job of expressing myself fully to you."

"I don't know, you seem to be doing a pretty good job of it." And he had. He'd shown her all of himself, his needs and wants, were all as real as her own. It wasn't entirely his fault that their conversation had wandered astray. She knew where he was going with this and that part of the conversation was still hard for her to wrap her head around. He had feelings for her, complicated ones, that brought him a mix of joy, fear, and hope. There was nothing simple about their lives, nothing that would be made easier by them being together, except perhaps the wear and tear on their hearts.

He looked at her fully for a long moment and relished that she remained open to him.

Haldir held back his surprise when she reached out to him and put her hand, as deadly as it was delicate, on the clasps of his shirt. She fooled with the buttons, taking a moment to cool the tension and anxiety that had grown between them.

"What are you doing?" He asked curiously.

"Just practicing." The grin was quick as lightning and just as bold. "You always look so tidy." She buttoned up the toggles she'd undone.

"You want to give this thing between us a try?" He clearly had feelings for her and had shown them to her blatantly. No one had ever made her feel the way he did. Wholly accepted, wanted, needed, and above all understood. They'd suffered together, fought alongside one another and she'd never doubted him. Not for a second. There was a lot of ground to cover in between but if anyone could navigate the territory it would be the likes of a sure-footed elf.

She was testing the waters between them, dipping her toe into the pools of his feelings for her to determine their depth and compatibility, a very human notion. Haldir covered her hand against his tunic; this was what she didn't understand. The part of him he still had to restrain. He was already bonding with her. It grew stronger between them by the day. This was what the empath had been trying to warn him about. He would lose his life, his light, for his heart. It had taken very little for his mind and heart to follow what his Fea had begun. There was no other choice for him now. No one else would ever compare. No one would match him so thoroughly as she.

"Yes, What say you to it?"

She laced her fingers with his over his chest and stepped up against him. Hope flared in his heart.

There was a strange innocence to the question. An old-fashioned notion that made her heart swell and her mind remember a time that was long gone.

She stretched to the full length of her tiptoes to level her mouth with his. She kissed the corner of his rigid mouth and felt him shudder even as his arm came around her waist to pull her closer. So much stood between them. A world at war, his people on the verge of being wiped out, an evil sorcerer, and mythical stone, and here they were falling madly for one another. They were bound intrinsically by forces she couldn't quite understand and despite the confusion, the ill timing, and the possibility of death...she wanted him more fiercely than she wanted answers to all the rest.

Selfishly, she answered.

"I'm yours."

"I think I've got something." Jane Foster whispered.

She jumped up from her desk chair and sent it into a wild swivel. "I think I've got something!" This time it was an excited exclamation to the office staff.

"Darcy, get Stark on the line." She sprinted to grab the printouts spitting out of the printer in rapid-fire. The data was the most accurate they'd extrapolated, the projections the most narrowed. She'd finally been able to successfully overlay all the individual data fields into one cross-functioning digital sky survey and finally, finally, she'd narrowed the field down to one galaxy. A tricky one because of its size, Messier 87 was massive and had nearly twelve thousand globular clusters and a streak of blue plasma inhibiting her scans but she'd persevered, broken through. If it hadn't been for the information Thor had mapped out for them she wouldn't have been able to project her scans nearly this distance. If it hadn't been for Stark she wouldn't have had the equipment to do it.

She held the data up. Hope flared through her. "I've got you Eric. I've got you."

"Darcy!" She looked up for the first time. The office space was empty and dark. Every chair at every desk was unoccupied. The sky had long ago gone black with night but the city remained a glow, New York was tireless.

"Dr. Foster, Ms. Darcy Lewis exited the building at eleven thirty-seven p.m. Do you wish for me to contact her via her mobile device?" Jarvis, Starks' ever-watchful assistance was always awake. Jane looked at the time, two thirteen a.m.

She let out a deep sigh, "No, leave a message for Mr. Stark. Have him meet me first thing in the morning."

A wave of extreme tiredness washed over her. She'd been working nonstop for weeks, hitting one wall after the other, overtaking one hurdle at a time. She was mentally exhausted and physically drained but she'd found them. And maybe, just maybe, Thor could bring them back.

"Dr. Foster, should I have a guest room prepared for you?"

Jane collected her data and tucked it in the folder beside her desk.

"Yes, thank you, Jarvis. Can you contact Clint Barton for me please and have him transferred to my cell phone if he answers?" He would want to know what she'd found above any of the others.

"Yes, right away Dr. Foster."

Her cell phone rang an instant later.

She didn't even have time to greet Clint on the phone.

"Tell me you found them." His voice was quiet but sharp with eager intensity.

Jane smiled softly, happy to finally have some news. "I found them."