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Steve ran. He ran as fast as he could, as far as the night allowed. He didn’t know if he had been followed or if he would ever be, but he could not take any risks. He had a mission to complete, and failure was not an option. Who knew what could happen if these bandits captured, or killed him? If he failed? Only one stone out of place could have severe repercussions. Strange had insisted on that. He had already placed four of them back to their rightful places, but he still needed to hand back the space and soul ones.
No, Steve mentally screamed, his pants and steps the only sounds disturbing the quiet of the night, he could not take any risks. He had to escape his pursuers, whatever it took.
But Steve was tired, and it was getting harder.
His lungs burned -which had not happened in a very long time- but he kept his breathing steady.
His legs hurt from exertion, as they had in the cold winter of ’43, but his steps didn’t falter.
His stomach hurt as he had not eaten in a while, but there was a time where that had been his normal, so his brain didn’t linger on it.
His right side hurt from where he was bleeding, hit by a strange blade just before he flew away from Morag, but he didn’t stop. His body would mend itself.
Steve ran, because his life and so many others depended on him.
~~
Steve ran deep in the forest for what felt like hours but were probably just minutes. The sky was pitch black, and the only thing keeping him from tripping on branches and falling face first in the dirt was his enhanced vision. But even the serum’s gifts had their limits -or maybe it was the wound on his side that was weakening him. Whatever the reason, soon his body gave out, cutting short his frenetic race, and Steve fell on the harsh floor of his mother’s native land.
As his knees hit the dirt and his breath caught in his chest, Steve felt his head spin. He braced himself and closed his eyes, but he still felt disorientated. There was no sound coming his way, though, so he probably had lost his pursuers. Good.
Steve allowed himself to breathe properly for a few seconds, then tentatively reopened his eyes and looked around. The moon shone brightly, but its rays of light were not much use in the darkness of the forest.
A sudden breeze blew some leaves, and a few of them fell directly in front of Steve, who shuddered. The air was brisk. Steve did not know exactly when he was – he had just imputed the listed coordinates before his jump- but one thing was certain: he needed to find shelter for the night.
Steve stood up, careful of his still bleeding injury, then looked around once more. He could distinguish big masses of trees in the distance and… wait.
Was that running water he could hear? Steve closed his eyes and focused for a few seconds.
Yes. It was coming from the direction he had been going towards in the first place. And Steve might have been running, but he had noticed a slight steep. Which could mean there was somewhere a little more elevated he could use to stay warmer. That, or larger trees that would have gotten bigger thanks to the running water.
Resolute, Steve started walking in the direction of the noise. If he didn’t find the shelter he wanted, running water might at least help with his injury. And he could drink a little, to accompany the dreadful protein bar he had on his person.
Five minutes later, Steve found something that exceeded everything he had hoped for: an actual miniature fall, with a place to lay down completely dry, but sheltered by the rocks. He cleaned the wound as much as he could, drank water, ate his protein bar then sat down. He was out like a light within minutes.
~~
Steve came to awareness slowly. Awfully so.
His body felt light and heavy at the same time, but he could not remember a reason for that. Consciously, he knew his body should be hurting, or at the very least be sore, but Steve felt none of that. No, Steve rather felt… floaty. Like his body was too heavy for him, but light at the same time. His brain was no exception to that, and it was making thinking difficult.
Steve groaned. What was happening to him? He kept his eyes closed for fear of the sunlight being too much for his eyes in his state and tried to assess what he knew.
Right. First, where was he?
Steve was in Ireland, in Gleninchaquin’s valley, and more precisely, in the forest. He had landed here because he had wanted to rest for a few days before finishing his mission, and where better to centre himself than here, in his mother’s country. Sadly, everything had not happened as planned; unbeknownst to him, he had been seen by bandits back on Morag and they had followed him. He had managed to escape them, but not without a severe injury.
That was the second point: how was he? Steve brought his hands to his side and felt nothing wet, just a bit of dried blood. The wound must have closed during his sleep. Very good. Other than that, he did not feel too much hunger or thirst.
Finally awake enough, Steve decided to open his eyes. He saw only trees everywhere, and his little shelter. Satisfied, he stood up and promptly pinched himself.
He flinched then sat upon a tree trunk. Well. Now he knew he was not dreaming. A hallucination wasn’t off the table, but sadly he didn’t have a way to check for it. Or maybe, he was neither sleeping nor hallucinating. Who knew? After all, he had just brought back infinity stones.
Steve let his gaze linger a bit more on the forest and the floor. The trees seemed completely normal if a little ethereal in the morning light, but the floor… Well, the floor did not seem normal at all.
There was a fire next to the trunk. A. Fricking Blue. Fire.
That was absolutely not normal, and Steve almost pinched himself a second time. Well, Steve shrugged, he had seen stranger.
Steve stayed there for long minutes, sitting on that trunk, with his arms crossed over his knees. Simply taking in the beauty of nature, not thinking about anything else, and trying some of the meditation techniques Bruce had taught him years ago. Emptying - momentarily - his mind of everything that had transpired recently.
Steve had significantly relaxed, the bird songs helping more than he would have though, when he suddenly heard a noise, disrupting his momentary peace. It sounded like something heavy was crushing leaves, or twigs. The noise continued for a couple of seconds, stopped, then started again, coming towards him. It stopped again, and this time, it seemed like the animal – or person- was waiting to see what he would do.
After a minute or two of tense silence -goodbye all previous relaxation- Steve snapped. “Is anyone here? Announce yourself!”
“Good morning to you too, Steven Rogers.”
That came from behind him. Steve turned around and his eyes fell on a vision straight out of a fantasy book -or his mother’s stories. “Who are you?” fell from his lips, even if his mind had instantly supplied a name, however unrealistic it was.
In front of him, emerging from the forest, was a woman. She had a very pale complexion, bright blue eyes and her curly hair was as red as flames, ablaze with sunlight. She was barefoot, wearing a long, flowing white dress and riding a majestic white horse. She looked just as ethereal as the rest of the forest was. A story his mother used to tell him before bed jumped to his mind.
A pearl-pale, high-born lady, who rode
On a horse with bridle of findrinny;
And like a sunset were her lips,
A stormy sunset on doomed ships;
A citron colour gloomed in her hair,
But down to her feet white vesture flowed
She couldn’t be, right? That was a myth. But then again… a lot of things had happened that he would have disregarded before. What was one more thing?
As if reading his thoughts, the lady answered and pulled him back to the present. “You know who I am.”
Yes, Steve knew. “Niamh?” The name rolled off his mouth.
The woman tilted her head with a smile, then beckoned him over. “I have been observing you. You seem to seek peace.”
Peace. Yeah, that had a nice ring to it. After everything he had gone through… Some peace would be nice. “Yes,” he replied simply.
“I can offer you that.” It was tempting, so tempting… But how? Once more, Niamh seemed to read his thoughts. “Nuige Tír na nÓg,” she said, in his mother’s tongue.
The Land of Eternal Youth. There would be no battles, no death. Only nature and peace. Steve thought about it. He was so tired. The last five years had been hell on earth. The aftermath of the battle. Half of the population whipped out. Governments crumbling, others trying to capture them. Months had gone by before the ‘Rogue Avengers’ had been pardoned.
Tony had come back, accusing them, saying what had happened was their fault, when he couldn’t even fucking look at himself in a mirror. No, Steve thought, he shouldn’t speak ill of the dead. Tony had proven he could make the hard choice, too. That he could lay his life on the line for the sake of others.
But these months had been hard. They had tried at first, to find a solution. They had found Thanos, Thor killed him. He was living on a deserted planet, looking like he was at peace. What a bunch of bullshit. But obviously it hadn’t solved anything, because the mad titan had destroyed the stones. His death hadn’t even made them feel better, they had just all sunk into various forms of depression after that. They had just joined the rest of the population in its grief.
Some of them handled it better than others. Some of them still had families and friends, others didn’t. Stark managed to find some form of peace, Thor almost lost himself.
And Steve… well, Steve had Natasha. Everyone else died or disappeared out of reach, except for her. She became his rock even more so that she had been. With Sam gone, it was almost as if he had lost his family all over again. And without Bucky… without Bucky, a part of him that he had managed to find back only recently had died again. But he knew that pain, all too much. He had lived with it for years already.
And now Natasha was gone. His rock was gone and the woman in front of him suddenly only served to remind him of his loss.
Steve was so tired. He just wanted to live quietly.
“Is it final?” he asked.
“You could choose to come back here, at your own risk. Time passes differently in my kingdom.”
Steve frowned, as the story of Oisín came to his mind. “How much?”
“Years in my kingdom are close to a lifetime in yours. Even for you.”
Well… he had already lived too long. What would be a few years more, if he stayed for a few days? But why was he offered this? “Why me?” he asked Niamh.
“I found you. And you have done far more than your share.” She smiled at him. “So, what do you say?”
Steve closed his eyes, trying to focus. Images flashed, of Clint coming back without Nat, of Bucky dying, of his friends’ griefs, of Tony dying, the battlefields from this century and the previous one…
He reopened them with a jerk of his head, and saw the tranquil figure of Niamh, barefoot on her white horse, surrounded by an ethereal forest. His decision was made.
“I’ll come with you. But not for long.”
“As you wish.”
Maybe it was crazy, to follow her like that. Maybe. But he definitely had done worse.
Steve smiled and took a step towards Niamh. She smiled in return and held out a hand. With her help, he got on the horse and settled behind her. At her signal, he carefully placed his hands around her waist and held tight. With a gentle click of the tongue, she commanded her horse to move, and the animal took off at a gallop.
Steve had not ridden in a while, but already he felt some of his tension evaporate. The striding cadence felt familiar enough that he let himself just observe the landscape. First there was the forest he had ran through -away from the concealed ship he had used to come here- small lakes, more forest, then finally they arrived at the shore that had been on his map.
There, Niamh slowed down her horse, and they started to walk in the water. They advanced in silence in the shallow water, until a wall of fog appeared on the horizon. Steve tensed, but Niamh did not seem bothered. She felt him, though. “Do not worry, Steven. This is merely for protection.”
“Okay.”
For some reason, Steve’s brain had decided the woman could be trusted, so he did not elaborate or think more about it. They travelled until they reached the fog, Niamh talking to him the entire time, telling him about the land, then she simply encouraged her horse. Steve tightened his hold minutely and stayed on high alert for the few minutes it took to emerge on the other side. Once they left the fog… Steve almost let go of Niamh’s waist.
On the other side of the fog, was… more water. It was only ankle deep, but it shimmered for miles away, towards a dark mass. Steve supposed it was the kingdom Niamh had talked about.
“See? You had no reason to be afraid. This was only a barrier.”
“Yes, I see that now.” Steve pointed towards the mass. “Is this…” Tír na nÓg?
“Yes, Steven.”
Steve beamed at her words. It seemed surreal, but it looked like he was about to set foot on a mythical island. Niamh turned her head and smiled at him, then asked him to hold on tight. He did as he was asked, and they took off at a gallop once more.
We galloped over the glossy sea:
I know not if days passed or hours,
And Niamh sang continually
Danaan songs, and their dewy showers
Of pensive laughter, unhuman sound
Slowly, the island came into focus. Steve could see birds from afar, fishes in deeper pools in the sea, and as they came even closer, he started to distinguish some terrestrial animals. Bit by bit, he could see more of them. Even some humans in the distance.
We galloped; now a hornless deer
Passed by us, chased by a phantom hound
All pearly white, save one red ear;
And now a lady rode like the wind
With an apple of gold in her tossing hand;
And a beautiful young man followed behind
With quenchless gaze and fluttering hair.
Minutes, or maybe hours later, they arrived at the feet of the island, the horse’s hooves still barely underwater. It looked magnificent under the bright sun. Niamh and Steve dismounted on the bare earth, and soon a man with long blond hair and bright flowing clothes approached them. Niamh gave him the reigns of her horse and a kiss on the cheek. She then took Steve’s hand and together they started walking towards a small village. On their way there, Steve turned his head in every direction, his eyes and mouth open in wonder. There was so much to see!
The road they were walking on was paved, like some old streets in European cities were, and it was bordered by low walls made of stones. All along were little houses with gardens where flowers bloomed and trees stood higher than the buildings, filled with fruits of all sorts. Everywhere, people were waving from their windows or sitting in their little gardens, chatting for some, sunbathing for others. Some of them were playing music, dancing, or singing. Others did all three.
They all seemed very happy.
Two women came by with their arms entangled, twin crowns of flowers in their hair. The tallest on the right was wearing a green dress and had hair that seemed almost white in the light. The other one, with tanned skin and black hair, was wearing a white dress adorned with golden embroidery.
“Niamh! Who did you bring us this time?” the tallest asked, looking at Steve with a warm expression.
Niamh turned to Steve, the sun catching in her flaming hair. “This is Steven Rogers. A hero from the other side of the sea, who wishes to find peace.”
Steve saluted the pair, who nodded in answer. “Welcome, Steven,” said the second woman. “I am Bébinn, and this is Shailyn. You are welcome in our home whenever you want. Getting to know you would be a pleasure.”
Steve thanked them, and that was how it started.
For two days, Steve walked around, eyes lit in wonder at every turn he took. The people were nice, the weather was warm, and the land projected an overall sense of peace. He conversed with the inhabitants, traded stories and songs, danced with people and ate delicious food. For the first time in far too long, he felt the urge to paint. Landscape, fruits, flowers, people, whatever; his hands itched with need.
But Steve could not shake away his real life. He frequently caught himself turning around to give something to Sam, to joke with Natasha. Or simply to exchange ideas with Bucky. The life he had left behind that wall of fog was calling him. He had to go back and finish his mission. Then, he could come back here. Or maybe find another way to find his peace. After all, he had seen a lot on this island that could inspire him.
~~
On the second day, Steve was sitting under a tree in the middle of an orchard when Niamh found him. He was looking at the birds in the sky, twirling an apple in his hands and thinking about Bucky.
“You seem pensive, Steven,” she said, sitting down next to him.
Steve lifted his head and smiled sadly at the red-haired woman. “Yes. I… I can’t stay. However much I want to.”
“You do not feel good here?”
Steve sighed and looked at the apple in his hands. “I do. I have felt a lot more like myself since I’ve arrived. But I still have a lot to do back there.”
“Even though you have found peace on this island?”
“Yes.”
Niamh nodded. “You are very committed.”
“It is the right thing to do.”
“But what will you gain?”
“Nothing, if maybe more sadness when faced with all that happened.” For even if Steve had gotten Bucky and Sam back, he still had lost Natasha and Tony, and Thor would just continue to be as devastated. “But I have to. What is the happiness of one human compared to the balance of the universe after all?”
“That is very wise, Steven. Very well; I shall accompany you.”
Steve looked at her, surprised. “You would?”
“Yes. I am saddened to see you leave so soon. I would like to share some more time with you.”
“Maybe… maybe I can stay until tomorrow morning. This way we can still appreciate each other’s company during the festivities.” One more day wouldn’t hurt, especially with the suit.
“So will it be, then. We will enjoy tonight’s festivities, and tomorrow I will bring you back to where you belong.”
Steve smiled, relieved. “Thank you.”
And so it was. Steve stayed another night on the island. People played music, sang, danced, drank and ate, and included Steve in every single one of these things. He would miss this atmosphere, the island and its people; he was already starting to feel nostalgic as he said his goodbyes. But he had things to do.
“Let us go,” Niamh said, before presenting the reigns of her horse to Steve. This time, he was the one directing the horse, and she held onto him. They chatted the entire time it took them to return to the forest she had found him.
When it was time to part ways, she kissed his cheek. “We could have had more, but your soul is somewhere else.”
She was right. As pleasant as these past three days had been, the island was not his home, and he could not truly appreciate it. Steve smiled. “It is. I still have things to do, and people who are waiting for me.”
Niamh and Steve bid their goodbyes, and as he watched her ride into the sunset and disappear behind the horizon line, he felt lighter than he had in years.
Waking up the next morning in the ship he had used after Morag, Steve wondered if he had hallucinated everything. After some time spent thinking about it, Steve realised that he did not really want to know. If his adventure had truly been a product of his mind -which he hoped was the case- well, that had been a nice dream. But if not… The adventure uncovered too many questions he was not ready to be answered.
Even after Steve returned the last two stones, he did not care. Not when he cradled an unconscious but very much alive Natasha in his arms, both of them drenched in water from the lake on Vormir, a little miracle that he had been told would never happen. Not when he hugged Sam, resolute to propose to his brother his Captain America mantle and be a better friend. Not when he finally let himself breathe, nestled in Bucky’s loving embrace, finally reunited with his soulmate.
Steve was home, and that was all that mattered.