If Steve weren't used to having his life suddenly upended, he supposed this situation would be a lot worse. He hadn't done this consciously, like getting into Erskine's machine or diving a plane into the Arctic ocean, but at least it was not an immediately jarring change. Aliens had decided to attack New York again, and Steve and Natasha found themselves pushed back into the more forested part of Central Park, dodging through trees to try and get the upper hand on the opposition while the rest of the team handled the mothership in the atmosphere and the damage in the city. In the midst of the fighting, Steve hadn't gotten a chance to get a good look at the aliens, and as he tried to keep pace with Natasha, so that he didn't leave her behind, he tripped over a large root.

Small things like that didn't phase Steve anymore, but it was just enough time for the swarm of aliens to catch up. They didn't attack him right away, like they had been before. Huge, hulking creatures stood over him, frowning and grunting like they weren't sure he should be there at all. Their weapons seemed primitive, but maybe he just hadn't gotten a good look before. Steve jumped up and attacked, trying to fight his way out of the group of creatures.

It wasn't easy as it had been just a few minutes ago. His punches were less effective, and the hits that the aliens got in were harder, more painful and he could feel bruises blooming where they managed to land solid blows.

"Natasha!" he shouted, hoping she was still close enough to hear. "I need backup!"

Steve broke free and sprinted further into the forest, hauling himself up into a tree as quickly as he could. He touched the communicator in his ear, to make sure it was still working, and noticed that all he could hear from it was static. He pressed the manual button, and tried to contact her, or any of their other teammates. But no one answered. He dodged a crudely-made arrow and frowned, looking around himself. Suddenly, he realized he couldn't hear the buzz of the city, or their air support, or Hulk's roaring, or Thor's thunder. Steve swallowed hard and looked around, keeping the trunk of the tree between himself and the aliens -- if that was what they were. He scanned the forest, realizing that it was definitely not Central Park. The trees were different, almost more ethereal. He couldn't see the tips of skyscrapers above the treeline.

But, for some reason, he felt comfortable in this place, like he'd been here before.

An arrow whizzed by and nearly clipped Steve's ear. He swore and noticed the creatures at the base of the tree, preparing to send more arrows up. He curled up as small as he could and put up his shield, mind racing. Where the hell was he? What were these creatures? Why did he know this place? How did he get here?

There was a commotion below him, and he waited until it died down to peek over the top of his shield. Three figures stood below the tree, two of them taller and one very short. They were looking at him strangely, as if he were totally out of place. Although, the more he looked at them, he could tell that they were completely justified. They were wearing tunics, breeches, and cloaks. They had on armor, the kind he'd only ever read about in fantasy novels. Steve's uniform seemed to continuously baffle and amuse everyone around him anyways, even though he'd been wearing something similar since the 40s. But there was a very obvious difference here.

Steve slipped out of the tree, landing carefully on the forest floor. One of the men had a sword drawn that he held in a defensive position, the tallest one readied his bow in a flash, and the third man, a short, short man with a large beard, brandished his axe. Again, Steve realized that he couldn't help but somehow recognize these men. He should have known who they were, but his mind was coming up blank. Instead of focusing on that thought, he slowly lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender, and then slipped the shield into its harness on his back. The men did not let their guard down. The tallest one looked at him disdainfully.

The man with the sword stepped forward, lowering his sword a little, "State your name and your business." He was commanding, but he also seemed to sense that Steve was just as confused as they were.

"My name is Steve Rogers," Steve answered, honestly. "I don't know how I got here. I don't know where I am."

The short man growled and stepped forward, "Aragorn, I don't believe 'im. Let me take care of this... this spy and let's be on our way."

Steve blanched, suddenly going cold. Aragorn. "The Fellowship," he breathed, before Aragorn could reply to the short man, whom Steve could only surmise was Gimli.

All of their gazes snapped to him, and the third man -- Legolas, surely -- loosed his arrow, barely grazing Steve's ear in warning, and replaced it just as swiftly. Aragorn's sword raised, though he gripped Gimli's arm to keep him from charging. Steve noticed the leaf clasps that held their cloaks together.

Aragorn's gaze locked with Steve's wide eyes, boring into him. "How have you learned of our Fellowship?"

Steve weighed his options carefully. Telling the truth would sound fantastical to them, even in a world of magic, and might get him killed. However, if he lied, they would definitely be able to tell, and they would attack him anyways. He wished he had Thor with him, or Natasha. They would know better what to do with this. Of course, Natasha would smack him upside the head and tell him to use his brain. From what Steve knew of the story, he should be able to tell these men the truth. They would be able to tell, and even if it seemed impossible, surely they'd try to reason with him, first.

"I'm... I'm in Middle Earth, yes?" Steve asked, needing to clarify before he made a total fool of himself. He had to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

"Are ye daft?" Gimli roared, fighting Aragorn's grip. "Of course you're in Middle Earth! Where else would ye be?"

Steve took a step back, putting his hands back up in placation. "I came here from New York City. My... my friends and I were in the middle of a battle, and I was somehow transported here." He looked around, taking in the bodies of what he now knew to be Orcs and Uruk-hai around them. "These... aren't the aliens we were fighting." He looked back up at the three men, who simply blinked at him as they processed what he said. "Your Fellowship is part of a popular series of... stories, where I come from."

Thinking about it, with just the three of them here, and the stillness of the forest, and the amount of dead Orcs, Steve thought he knew where in the narrative this was. If he strained his hearing, he could hear the river nearby. There was no other movement in the forest, the creatures still afraid to come out of hiding, and no Hobbits left to run through the underbrush. They were close to Amon Hen, near the River Anduin.

Legolas was the first to speak. His grip on his bow tightened, and his eyes narrowed. "Is this some kind of black magic?"

"I don't know," Steve answered, honestly, keeping his eye on the Elf's other hand, ready to dodge if he loosed the arrow.

Silence stretched between them all as each of the three seemed to try and decide what to do with him. Steve could only pray his team noticed he had been zapped into another universe and that Tony was going to find some way to bring him back. Even if he survived this conversation, there was no way he would be able to get back to New York on his own. He supposed he might be able to find his way through Lórien and ask the wise Elves for help, but that was a long shot. They likely wouldn't welcome a lone human anyways, nevermind so close to the Fellowship's visit.

Aragorn sheathed his sword, letting go of Gimli to wave at Legolas. The Elf lowered his bow, still glowering at Steve.

"You're not lying to us," Aragorn said, reaching a hand out for Steve to clasp, which he did, gladly. It almost felt like meeting a celebrity. "Steve Rogers, I have never heard of New York City, I do not think we are able to help you."

Steve smiled, ruefully, "I didn't expect you to. I don't know how to help myself." He glanced around, as if his team might appear. "My friends will have to find me to get me home. Is there a place nearby that is safe for me to wait for them?"

The three men looked at each other, and Gimli grumbled while Aragorn and Legolas spoke softly in Elvish to each other. Hearing the language in person made Steve feel like he might faint. Gimli didn't seem very bothered by Steve anymore, but Legolas kept throwing him dirty looks, and Steve wondered if he shouldn't just try to make it on his own. But before he could beg off, telling them he could manage on his own, Aragorn turned back to him.

"If you know our story already, from your... world, then you know we are leaving to chase down two of our companions who were taken by the Uruk-hai."

Steve nodded, "Yes, I do. Merry and Pippin." He could feel the Elf's glare, but kept eye-contact with Aragorn.

"Come with us," Aragorn offered. "There are not many safe places now. If you are with us, and your friends know the story as well, they will be able to find you with us." He smirked, "And you are obviously a man of skill. Perhaps you can be useful to us, even a little."

In his chest, Steve's heart was pounding a mile a minute. He had to fight down a grin, knowing that it would be inappropriate. Instead, he nodded, "Thank you. I would be... honored to join you. You're not wrong about my friends, either."

Just like that, it was decided. Aragorn nodded once and clapped Steve on the shoulder before turning to his other companions. "We must make haste, we cannot spare another minute. Come, friends," he smiled, as if to give them all hope, "let us run."

Aragorn took off into the forest, Legolas hot on his heels. Gimli took off faster than Steve expected, though he did proclaim himself a "natural sprinter" in the movies that Tony forced him to watch. Steve took a moment to breathe, praying that this wouldn't end in total catastrophe. He let himself smile, just a little, and took off into the woods.