Author note: explanation time!
Disclaimer: I own not but the plot… no gods and no Hawkeye unfortunately.
Clint POV – still flashback
I waited, watched as emotions flickered across her face as fast as humming birds’ wings before finally settling into that of sad defeat. She didn’t say anything but stood and moved back several paces before facing me once more.
I watched in shock as her frame glowed and then there she stood with form armour. It was black and silver, that fitted her form elegantly and it took everything within me to not stare at her chest. But how? What, how did she do that, what is she?
“This, this is my armour. I am what you would call a goddess, I am… was the daughter of Odin, the Allfather, daughter to Frigga, sister of Thor and Loki. I am Isibel Odindottir.” She states, her last name rolling off her tongue as if she tasted something foul.
“I have many questions. How?” I ask, the one word held many questions.
How can she understand us?
How did she get here?
How old is she really?
How could she do all the things she did.
A soft smile makes it on to her face as she moves towards me, the armour disappearing in a gold light. “Clint, your ancestors called it magic but now but you call it science. I come from a land where they are one and the same.” She starts before picking up a stick and drawing in the dirt an image.
“Your world is one of the Nine Realms of the Cosmos, linked to each other by the branches of Yggdrasil, the World Tree.” She states while finishing her drawing.
I was entranced, I needed to know more. “Tell me more!” I demand causing her to laugh.
“They are called The Nine Realms. Now, there is Midgard, which is Earth.” She tells me softly, pointing to the small circle in the middle.
“This is Alfheim. Vanaheim. Jotunheim. Nifflehiem….” She trails off, looking pained as she points to the one above earth.
“What is that one?” I ask, pointing to the one she stopped at.
“That… That is Asgard, my home… that was my home.” She finishes sighing and with a wave of her hand the dirt shifted and the image was lost. “I know you have many questions, so let me answer some of which are the most obvious to ask. I am what you would deem a Goddess; I stated that my world is both magic and science… I can understand you with something that is called Allspeak or All tongue, not many are gifted with it. I was a warrior, so I among those of my position are gifted with it. It is also the reason why you can understand me, I am speaking my native tongue but you are hearing your own language yes?” She asks, waiting for my confirmation.
“Yes, you are speaking English. Is this why you speak differently? Your pattern of speech changes, I have caught it many times.” I explain, watching as a blush graced her cheeks as she nodded.
“Yes, I am still adjusting to the way you speak now. It has changed much since the last time I was here or that my people were here. But it works both ways Clint, you speak your English and I hear my native tongue.” She explains softly, slowly but not patronizingly.
It was hard to grasp the concept and yet I could understand somewhat, I wouldn’t be able to understand fully due to the fact I wasn’t raised to believe in such things. I wouldn’t have the full knowledge of how things worked.
“Okay, but what about your bow? How can you shoot so well?” I ask causing her to smile and laugh, it was a beautiful sound and it was a sound I had just come to realise I had never truly heard from her. Yes she laughed but it seemed to be always guarded.
“I told you, well no, I didn’t tell you properly did I? Ichaival was made by Ullr; he had made it from the yew trees of his home world and blessed it. It possesses the power with each pull of just one arrow; it will release ten arrows… that is if I wish it. I told you that Ichaival demands respect, if you respect it, it will give you the ability to access its power. Would you like me to show you?” She asks, gesturing to the bow that I could have sworn wasn’t there.
“Yes but first, you still have yet to answer me… why, why me?” I ask again, the original topic coming back into mind. “I am but a no one; even here on earth I am nobody. I have no special talent, no means to prove myself to you…” I trail off as she placed a finger softly over my lips to shush me.
“Clint, where I am from you need not to be a Nobel, it is you yourself and your intentions behind what you do. You are not a wicked man; you are a warrior who is brave and kind. The things you do are not selfish, you don’t think anyone is beneath you or treat ill of anyone who is here. You also don’t let your weaknesses bother you… You are an honourable man Clint of Barton, how you do not see you are my equal I will not understand, never understand… but you are… I have come to care deeply for you, love you… Will you accept me and my bow?” She asks, tells me…
I could only stare at her in shock; there was no deceit in her eyes, no uncertainty in her voice. She knew me, not my life or what I have done but she knew my heart and that was more than anyone has come close to. She has seen me, the real me. How could I not say yes?
“Yes, I do not deserve you or your gift but I will accept it and your courtship.” I reply, a little unsteady as I try to word it properly, trying to understand her speech pattern and the meaning it was phrased.
“Will you teach me? Teach me how to shoot like you?” I ask hopeful as she dives excitedly into my arms bringing a laugh from her lips.
“It will be a long and tiring way but yes, I will gladly teach you… I will also teach you my ways if you wish to understand more?” She asks, pulling back so she could look me in the eyes.
“I would love that Isibel, my bluebell.” I whisper, running my hand softly down her cheek and brushing away the loose strand of hair.
I blink back the memories that flooded, ending the story and chasing away the images of her face. Her smile and the way her eyes sparkled with joy, igniting the cosmos that seemed to rest there. I focused back onto the others with a frown.
The names of her brothers, one of them sounded familiar all too familiar it was as if I had seen him before or heard of it before… not too long ago.
“How long after did you two get married?” Steve asks, honest curiosity leaking from every pore. He was alive then, in the ice but still alive none the less and he knew all too well about the time I was raised in.
“A year, it took us a year to wed, but that was my doing… I was nervous, hesitant. She was an intimidating woman, otherworldly and no matter what she said to me when we started to court, I was still a poor man with nothing to offer her.” I explain with a soft smile as I remember the moment I explained why I was hesitant to ask for her hand.
I was on my ass a second later with her ranting at me about everything she said when we started dating all over again.
“I… I can’t explain much more, it hurts, physically hurts to think about her… all thoughts of her lead to the moment she died and I cannot…” I trail off, looking away.
“It was because of her death I became this way, she kept me an honest man and when she died I couldn’t cope so I went on missions of my own, killing more people for hire until shield found me.” I explained pained. “I had used the tools she taught me for killing; it shames me to even think of what she would say if she was still alive…”
“Grief does many things Clint, she would understand.” Bruce explains softly, a haunting look in his eyes. I shot him a grimace before sighing deeply, running my hand through my hair.
“What would you like to know, our wedding or her death before I go?”
Author Note: That’s it folks, I left it here for you to decide on what you wish to see next… Their wedding or her ‘death’?