Chances Are (Avengers & LOTR crossover)

The House of Elrond

“I… can’t do this anymore,” grunted the Scarlet Witch, supporting her weight on her elbow and knees but not getting up. Not with her muscles screaming in pain at the abuse that her body had received.

Natasha’s training had been hard. The redheaded spy had knocked her down for probably a hundredth time today. Wanda was panting for air, aching all over her body while Natasha herself was barely breaking a sweat.

“I can’t ever beat you without my power,” Wanda admitted, looking at the power dampener that encircled her hand. Her head hung down in defeat. If Pietro could see her right now, he would be very disappointed.

A pair of dark blue boots pass her view.

“Who are you without your power, Wanda?” asked Steve. “What are you without all the enhancements that HYDRA gave you?”

Her spirit plummeted down her stomach at the simple question. “I…I don’t know.” She looked up, her hazel eyes meeting Captain America’s deep blue ones.

“If you are nothing without your power, then you don’t deserve that power,” said the Captain as he walked towards the edge of the sparring mat to study her from a distance.

“That red ball thingy that you can shoot from your hands isn’t the only thing that makes you an Avenger,” Natasha’s silky voice was heard, adding to Steve’s statement. “We’re humans, Maximoff. We don’t learn from our best achievements. We learn from our mistakes.”

“No matter what world you live in, there will always be bullies. They will always try to knock you down. Even with your power.” For a moment Steve Rogers’ blue eyes were wondering, as if being lost in the past, “But you can’t give them the pleasure of letting them know that they beat you down. You gotta push back.”

The female assassin that had kicked her ass crouched in front of Wanda, a small smirk etched across her pretty face. “You get knocked down, you get back up. You show us that you are more than what HYDRA gave you. So what do you say, soldier?”

Wanda looked at the hand that Natasha had offered for her. With a renewed strength, she lifted her arm and took the female spy’s hand firmly. Natasha’s smile grew wider.

“Show me what you got,” said Natasha with her disarming smirk stretched across her face as she helped her back up.

“Nat!”

She jerked up from her sleep. For a moment Wanda thought she was about to go through some more training with the redheaded spy. Funny enough, her body did feel exactly like she felt in her dream—or memory—: Beaten. Bruised.

But then she looked around her, at the beautiful room dominated with white, cream and a little bit of gold here and there. Intricately designed room held a lavish engraving of the elf kind that she was now familiar of: the insignia of Rivendell.

The memory of what happened to her last came back to her. Along with it, was the fact that Natasha was gone and that she was alone in this world. Without the backup of her team.

Natasha’s smirk from her dream was still remained at the back of her mind, leaving a pang of loss in her chest. Wanda had never imagined that she would ever miss her difficult training. But here she was, hoping that she could turn back the time and be in that training room with her teammates.

She looked around her room, taking in the rather luxurious elvish interior within her space. Sitting up, she let her hands grazed the silky sheets beneath her. The only time she ever felt such rich, luxurious fabric was in the Stark Tower. She got up and walked towards the beautiful vanity in the room. She was wearing a simple ivory dress that was more expensive than anything she had ever worn since Middle Earth. The wounds on her arm was bandaged neatly, and though she could feel her body aching slightly, the scratches on her skin was almost fading.