June 26th - 2009
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Stephen sat on the balcony of Tony's Malibu mansion, the evening breeze brushing past him as he gazed out at the ocean. The faint sound of waves crashing against the rocks below was soothing, though his thoughts were anything but. The cloak of levitation rested on the back of his chair, unmoving for once. Stephen had been preparing for the interview with Christine Everhart, running through the fabricated story in his head, trying to find a balance between honesty and the narrative they had crafted.
The golden sparks of a portal appeared a few feet away, breaking his train of thought. Stephen straightened slightly as the Ancient One stepped through, her serene presence immediately commanding the space. She was dressed in her usual flowing robes, her hands folded neatly in front of her as she looked at him with quiet curiosity.
"Master Strange," she greeted, her tone warm but with a note of formality that suggested she wasn't here just for pleasantries.
"Ancient One," Stephen replied, rising to his feet. He inclined his head respectfully before gesturing to a nearby chair. "What brings you here? I wasn't expecting a visit."
She offered him a faint smile as she took the seat he indicated, her gaze sweeping briefly over the ocean before returning to him. "I've heard some interesting rumors circulating in the mundane world. A story about a brilliant doctor who was held captive alongside Tony Stark. A doctor who was presumed dead but now seems to be alive and well."
Stephen sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I should've known the rumors would reach you."
The Ancient One tilted her head, her smile deepening. "When the currents of fate shift, I make it a point to pay attention. Tell me, Stephen, what exactly is the truth behind these whispers?"
Stephen sat back down, his posture stiff. "Tony and I... we've devised a plan to address the rumors. Christine Everhart is coming to interview me tomorrow. We're spinning the narrative that I was taken by the same terrorists who kidnapped Tony, kept hidden, and only recently managed to step back into the public eye. It's... a half-truth. But it's enough to satisfy public curiosity without delving into anything mystical."
The Ancient One regarded him thoughtfully, her expression unreadable. "A carefully constructed story, to be sure. And one that seems to align well with Tony Stark's flair for theatrics. But what of the people who truly cared for the Stephen Strange of this world? Have you considered what this means for them?"
Stephen's gaze flickered, a faint shadow crossing his face. "I have," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "But the truth is... I'm not him. I can't be. Even if I step into his shoes, even if I reclaim his identity, I'm still an outsider pretending to fit into a life that isn't mine."
"That may be so," the Ancient One said gently, "but the people who knew him deserve to hear that from you directly. If they are to grieve, let them grieve properly. If they are to find hope, let it be hope tempered with truth."
Stephen leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared at the ground. "You mean Christine Palmer."
The Ancient One's eyes softened. "She cared deeply for him. In her eyes, he was a brilliant, if flawed, man. A man she mourned. If she is to see you now, alive and standing where he once stood, she deserves more than a carefully constructed narrative meant for the public."
Stephen was silent for a long moment, his mind racing with memories of Christine—her laughter, her sharp wit, the way she'd challenged him when no one else dared to. He hadn't thought about her like this in years, but now, the weight of what the Ancient One was saying pressed heavily on his chest.
"I'll visit her," he said finally, his voice steady but quiet. "After the interview is done, I'll go to her. I owe her that much."
The Ancient One nodded, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Good. It's not easy to face the people we've left behind, but it's necessary. And I think you'll find that Christine Palmer is a remarkable woman. Perhaps even more remarkable than you remember."
Stephen let out a soft, dry chuckle. "You seem to know a lot about her for someone who's never met her."
The Ancient One's eyes twinkled with amusement. "The currents of fate have a way of revealing things to those who listen."
He shook his head, a faint smile breaking through his otherwise serious expression. "You're insufferable sometimes, you know that?"
Her smile widened slightly. "It's part of my charm."
Stephen sighed, leaning back in his chair and staring out at the ocean again. "I'll handle it. All of it. The interview, Christine, this identity... I'll make it work."
The Ancient One stood, her hands clasped in front of her as she regarded him one last time. "I have no doubt that you will, Master Strange. And remember, you don't have to carry this burden alone. You have allies, both within the Order and beyond."
Stephen glanced at her, his expression softening. "Thanks."
Stephen was still seated on the balcony, the conversation with the Ancient One weighing heavily on him, when the sound of hurried footsteps echoed as Tony came rushing out onto the balcony, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern.
"JARVIS told me we had a surprise visitor via a portal," Tony said, his eyes locking onto the Ancient One. He stopped in his tracks, taking her in with wide eyes. "And... whoa. Okay, not what I was expecting. Hello, Galadriel."
Stephen groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Tony, meet the Ancient One. Ancient One, meet Anthony Edward Stark, who has apparently decided to forgo all manners today."
The Ancient One raised an eyebrow but smiled faintly, inclining her head toward Tony. "Mr. Stark. A pleasure to meet you. I must apologize for trespassing. It was not my intention to intrude."
Tony blinked, clearly not expecting such a polite response. "Oh, no, no, no. Trespass all you want. Portals are all the rage these days, apparently." His eyes narrowed with curiosity as he stepped closer, taking her in with the kind of sharp focus that made Stephen bristle. "So, you're the Ancient One? The head honcho? The boss of all things mystical?"
"I oversee the Order," she said, her tone light but measured. "But I am merely a guide, not a ruler."
Tony tilted his head, scrutinizing her. "Guide, huh? So, what, you teach Stephen here how to do all his fancy hand gestures and 'poof, I'm gone' tricks?"
Stephen crossed his arms and shot Tony a flat look. "She's the Sorcerer Supreme, Tony. Try showing a little respect."
The Ancient One's lips quirked into a faint smile. "It's all right, Master Strange. Mr. Stark's curiosity is... refreshing."
Tony grinned, clearly emboldened. "Master Strange, huh? Nice title. Do I get to call you 'Master Tilda' or do I have to earn that?"
Stephen groaned again. "Tony, for the love of—"
The Ancient One's smile widened ever so slightly. "You may call me the Ancient One. Though I suspect that will not deter you from your unique brand of humor."
Tony smirked. "You're sharp. I like that. So, do you guys have, like, a Hogwarts-style curriculum? Potion-making classes? Do you assign essays? And please tell me there are uniforms."
Stephen pinched the bridge of his nose as the Ancient One tilted her head ever so slightly, unfazed. "We do not follow a curriculum, as you might imagine. Each disciple learns according to their potential and the paths they choose to walk. As for uniforms, there are robes that signify one's mastery or rank, but I suspect they're not as flamboyant as you're imagining."
Tony pointed at her with mock seriousness. "See, that's where you're missing out. A little pizzazz goes a long way. Capes, cloaks, maybe a few sparkles here and there... Though Stephen's already got the badass cloak, so I'll give you points for that."
The Ancient One's eyes flickered toward Stephen, who looked like he wanted to melt into the floor. "The Cloak of Levitation chose him," she said, her voice calm but firm. "It is a relic of immense power and judgment. It only aligns itself with those who are worthy."
"Worthy," Tony repeated, turning to Stephen with a teasing smirk. "Look at you, Mr. Worthy. Didn't know you had it in you."
"Tony," Stephen snapped, his ears pink.
Ignoring Stephen's obvious discomfort, Tony turned back to the Ancient One, his curiosity undeterred. "Okay, serious question. How long have you been at this? The whole mystical leader of the universe thing?"
"For a very long time," she said simply, her voice carrying an undertone of immense age. "Time, as you know it, holds little meaning for me."
Tony blinked, impressed despite himself. "Right. You're full of cryptic answers, aren't you? Let me guess, that's part of the gig? Keeping people like me guessing?"
She chuckled softly, the sound warm and knowing. "It serves its purpose. Mysteries often inspire greater curiosity, after all."
Tony leaned against the balcony railing, narrowing his eyes as if trying to see past her serene exterior. "Okay, so if you're not the big boss, who is? I mean, is there, like, a mystical council? A cosmic HR department? Someone who makes sure you're not breaking all the rules?"
The Ancient One's expression didn't falter, though her tone carried a faint edge of humor. "The balance of the multiverse is its own judge, Mr. Stark. Those who wield power must answer to it, one way or another."
"Cryptic again," Tony muttered, but there was a glimmer of genuine respect in his gaze now. "And what about Stephen here? Does he answer to you or the multiverse?"
Stephen stiffened, glaring at Tony. "I can answer for myself, thank you."
The Ancient One's gaze flicked between the two of them, her smile returning. "Stephen is learning to walk the path set before him. He has already proven himself capable of great things, even if he sometimes... hesitates to acknowledge it."
Tony tilted his head, grinning. "You're talking about the man who saved my life, you know. Twice, actually. And who's currently pretending to be an ex-surgeon from another universe. Not exactly subtle, but I guess you sorcerer types don't do subtle."
Stephen rolled his eyes. "Says the man who built a flying metal suit and announced his secret identity to the press."
"Touché," Tony admitted, his grin widening. "But you've got to admit, you're not doing much better."
The Ancient One chuckled softly, clearly enjoying the exchange. "You both seem to share a penchant for defying expectations. It's no wonder you've found common ground."
Tony shrugged, glancing at Stephen with a teasing glint in his eye. "Yeah, well, he's growing on me."
Stephen muttered something under his breath, though his lips twitched faintly as if suppressing a smile.
"Though I admit, Galadriel, it's nice to finally meet the one Stephen keeps not shutting up about."
"I wasn't aware I had become a frequent topic of conversation," she said, glancing at Stephen with amusement.
"I wouldn't call it 'frequent,'" Stephen muttered, glaring at Tony. "And don't call her Galadriel. She's not an elf."
Tony ignored him, stepping closer to the Ancient One, his curiosity clearly piqued. "So, how's our dear Steph when he's full on wizard?"
The Ancient One chuckled softly, her gaze calm and composed. "Stephen has... exceptional potential, though he seems to have found himself somewhat distracted lately." Her eyes twinkled as she glanced meaningfully at Tony.
Stephen stiffened, his ears reddening slightly. "He's very distracting," Stephen said dryly, "but not the topic of conversation right now."
Tony smirked, clearly enjoying Stephen's discomfort. "Exceptional potential, huh? I knew there was something special about you, Steph. Though still sad that you do not have fancy robes to go with your badassery."
Stephen groaned again, burying his face in his hands. "Tony, for the love of—"
"Actually," the Ancient One said smoothly, her gaze flicking to Stephen, "Stephen's ceremonial robes will be ready for him in four days. His official ascension to mastery will take place then."
Tony's grin widened into something bordering on predatory. "Oh, so it's official now. There's an ascension and everything? And robes? Steph, you've been holding out on me."
Stephen shot him a withering look. "Don't start."
"Too late, already started," Tony said, clearly delighted. "You better let me see those robes when you get them. I have a thing for uniforms. Oh, this just gets better and better. I'm going to need pictures."
The Ancient One's smile grew ever so slightly as she observed the two of them. "I see you're in good hands, Stephen. It's good to know you've found... allies in this world."
Stephen ignored her pointed tone, focusing instead on the fact that Tony was clearly enjoying this far too much. "I'll be sure to show you the robes, Tony, just so you'll stop asking. And Ancient One, thank you for the... reminder about the ceremony."
The Ancient One inclined her head gracefully, then turned her attention back to Tony. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Stark. Your curiosity is... refreshing."
Tony gave her a two-fingered salute, his grin still firmly in place. "Likewise. If you ever want to swing by for dinner, I'll make sure Stephen cooks."
Stephen shot him a glare but said nothing.
The Ancient One chuckled softly and turned back to Stephen. "I will leave you to your preparations, Master Strange. Remember, four days. And I expect you to wear those robes with pride."
With a flick of her wrist, a golden portal opened behind her. She stepped through it with her usual grace, the light fading as quickly as it had appeared.
Tony let out a low whistle, leaning against the balcony railing. "Okay, she's cool. A little cryptic, but cool. Kind of terrifying, but in a 'don't-mess-with-me' way that I respect."
Stephen sighed, shaking his head. "You really have a gift for making everything ridiculous."
"And you secretly love it," Tony shot back, grinning. "Come on, Steph. Don't pretend you're not going to rock those robes."
Stephen just groaned again and stalked off toward the kitchen, muttering about needing a drink.
"Well," Tony said, clapping his hands together, "guess I better clear my schedule for four days from now. Can't miss your big debut as a fully robed mystical master."
Stephen groaned, but there was a faint smile tugging at his lips as he turned to head back inside. "You're impossible."
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