IronStrange Haven, formerly IronStrangeHQ

Summary:

Tony Stark, a dragon, has a pest problem in his cave. Stephen Strange, a sorcerer newly settled into a mountain lair, has a dragon problem in his. Naturally, their first reaction is to fend off the intruder. Instead, they end up bridging a considerable cultural divide – with telepathic mistranslation, magical collaboration, and experimental transformation. And honey cakes. A fantasy AU with fairy-tale logic and an unexpectedly earnest developing relationship.

Chapter 1

Ugh. Tony had vermin in the cave.

Admittedly, there was only one—but by all accounts, it was the nastiest kind of all. A sorcerer.

***

Stephen’s newly acquired sorcerer’s lair had a dragon in it. An unreasonably large one. He wouldn’t have minded it much, normally. A rare beast like that added a certain mystique to a magical home built into a maze of caves deep in the mountains, and it was certainly good for security as well. But the dragon was showing all kinds of unwelcome behavior.

***

Tony knew just enough about household pests—not an inherently interesting topic, for sure—to feel certain about not wanting them around. And sorcerers? They were said to be especially difficult to get rid of. Worse, they had a painful if nonlethal bite, carried diseases, and carried off the gold. Annoying and inconvenient all around.

Tony had to act before it reproduced and he had a full-blown infestation to deal with.

***

The irksome dragon clogged up the ventilation funnels with nasty substances, disrupting the air flow in Stephen’s chambers. It left rotting deer carcasses everywhere, stuffed with entire belladonna plants, dirt clumps on the roots and all. It blasted fire down the pathways randomly—well, not quite randomly. For some reason, it always seemed to happen whenever Stephen got up from reading to fit in his two dozen steps a day for his circulatory health. (An important habit, even for a Master Sorcerer on sabbatical.) After getting the hem of his robe scorched, Stephen decided enough was enough. It was time to investigate the dragon’s haunt.

Venturing further into the bigger caverns, Stephen found deadly-looking warped metal contraptions strewn about. They had lots of pointy bits and some squished parts—almost like springs. New evidence that dragons hoarded all kinds of metals, not just gold. Speaking of which: little heaps of gold glittered among the dull grey chunks. This could mean only one thing: the dragon was settling in and spreading out its hoard. With that realization, Stephen turned on his heel and marched back to the smaller rooms he had chosen as his living quarters. He needed a plan before the situation got out of hand.

***

Tony had spotted the sorcerer scurrying around today. Its movements were quick and erratic. It had a colorful, mostly blue hide and, luckily, didn’t seem to be the flying kind. But that was the only good news about it. It avoided Tony’s ingenious traps. It ignored the thoughtfully laid out poisoned food. And somehow it kept finding its way into Tony’s living space, no matter how many small gaps he sealed. Using fire to disinfect everything it could have touched whenever it was moving around was Tony’s only consolation.

The little pest seemed to have excellent instincts. Tony wouldn’t go so far as to call it smart—he knew it only appeared that way. No, the creature was intent on survival. It still didn’t have a chance against Tony, who was, even by draconic standards, a genius and a fierce fighter. Which might seem overkill—and also a tad unfair, if Tony thought about it—but then again, the sorcerer really shouldn’t have invaded Tony’s space. There was plenty of room for it outside the caves, where Tony was not.

Still, hunting something so small felt unsporting. The mere thought caused an uncomfortable churning in Tony’s otherwise excellent fire stomach. He could ignore this sensation while designing and building new and better traps, but distraction wasn’t enough. In the end, he decided to change into his smaller form, nearer to the pest’s size, hoping his hunting instincts would fire up. Pun intended.

***

There might have been two dragons in Stephen’s not-so-newly acquired sorcerer’s lair.

Stephen had only seen the giant one once—or, more precisely, he’d seen its enormous, unblinking eye glinting from an opening in the ceiling of the cavern he was carefully navigating. And now there was another, smaller but still substantial beast, its red hide scraping against the tunnel walls as it huffed and puffed around Stephen’s favorite grotto, where he stored his non-perishable food. Like the honey cakes that were supposed to last a season but were so insubstantial Stephen could never remember whether he’d already eaten the one allotted for the day, and would go check and dig out another one, and… Anyway, now he had to be mindful of this other dragon as well.

The plan Stephen devised was brilliant in its simplicity: fireproof all his robes, avoid the dragons, and read up on wards against nuisance wildlife. He really was no naturalist. Fortunately, he discovered something interesting in one of his less frequently opened tomes: wards that emitted noise to repel unwanted visitors, like children and animals. Although the constant drone could prove to be a bigger nuisance than the dragons themselves, it was worth a try. Stephen was always eager to learn a new technique or application.

Keeping an ear out for the clacking of claws, Stephen placed the experimental wards with deliberation and flawless precision. He selected the locations as far from his study and his sleeping alcove as possible, but the hum still carried, unfortunately. The sages of old would say that your mind is no better than a lowly fly, flitting about and easily distracted, if noise can disturb your thoughts. Stephen would say the sages of old didn’t have ten beast-repelling wards and two dragons to contend with.

***

Tony had a pretty good idea about the pest’s whereabouts. He also had the mounting concern about it having already bred, because now there was a constant buzzing in the cave’s infested part. He hadn’t seen the mother sorcerer again, or its offspring yet, so his hunting instincts still hadn’t kicked in. He decided to channel all his restless energy into a new kind of trap.

It had been a while since Tony bothered with glassblowing, glass being a fragile material ill-suited for decoration or tools in a full-sized dragon’s cave. And there was hardly any reason for him to take on one of his smaller forms meant for social calls, not while he was exploring a new continent on his own, without nay-sayers and wannabe-competitors and various hangers-on. He barely even missed his few friends. Anyway, glass. Specifically, glass containers, completely see-through, big enough to live trap several of the small sorcerers and maybe study them for a while. And put them out somewhere far away later. Or something like that.

After creating a prototype in his middle-sized form and thoroughly testing it in his smallest form, Tony adapted and redesigned the original, quickly crafting Marks Two, Three, and Four. He stopped at seven, it being a nice round number. Then he carried the finished glass vessel to a promising hole and began setting the trap. The round, open-topped vessel was designed with a wide mouth and a secure lid, though he left the latter off for now. He buried a tipping mechanism beneath the vessel’s final location and, with great precision, carefully toppled it, positioning its mouth perfectly level with the ground. Now, the bait.

Tony had an outstanding sense of smell, on top of his other senses being first-rate, so he already knew that some of the pest’s hideouts smelled like honey. Now, honey was not easy to come by, but many flowers carried a similar scent. Distilling fragrant oils from blooms was child’s play for a multi-talented individual like Tony. It also would have taken far longer than he preferred.

He went for a quicker solution instead.

He gathered the prettiest wildflowers with the strongest smell from the open field just a skip away from his cave’s entrance. After shaking out the smelliest bits, he padded the trap with them. For the sake of being thorough, he threw in a few pieces of gold too. He even placed a little trail of petals leading to it.

He pushed the glass vessel to the opening, hid behind a boulder with the lid, and deliberately stilled his tail. Until now, it had been free to show his excitement, rhythmically tapping against the packed sand of the cavern floor. It wouldn’t do to give the ruse away, now, would it?

***

The experimental wards needed regular maintenance and adjustment. Stephen also had some ideas for improving them. After a bracing cup of tea, he made his rounds, checking each ward methodically while keeping an eye out for both dragons. He was onto something with his wards, because he hadn’t glimpsed either of them in days now, and even the evidence of their presence was fading—the slightly sandy floors were no more or less scratched, the previously scorched walls smelled less and less strongly of soot, and... what was that?

Stephen paused in his examinations. The tunnel ended in a smooth, transparent surface. It had a cylindrical shape and probably protruded well into the cavern beyond. Its walls were so perfectly uniform, the rim so smoothly finished, that it was hard to tell. Dry flower petals were scattered leading up to and inside it in what looked like artistic arrangement rather than random dispersal.

Fascinating.

This was no natural phenomenon—it had to be man-made. Or perhaps… could it be dragon-made? The glass, in theory, could result from their fire melting sand, though its clearness was baffling. But the flowers? That was harder to explain. Was this some bizarre mating ritual of dragons? The smaller one might have made it, Stephen supposed, in a bid for the other’s attention: a nest, perhaps, or proof of some peculiar prowess that only dragons would value in a mate. The larger one’s claws would have crushed such delicate work, surely.

Inching forward carefully, on the lookout for any suspicious sound or movement, Stephen crouched down to examine it more closely. The wilted flowers and dry plant-bits still carried a faintly sweet smell, more like hay than anything else. He reached for them slowly, one trembling finger outstretched. Then paused, hand frozen mid-reach. Tampering with a mating offering might have unintended consequences for the rare beasts. Not wanting to disturb the dragons’ natural breeding processes, Stephen memorized the flowers’ placement so he could reconstruct it afterward. Then he nudged a few aside to examine something glinting beneath them. The glass was thick and strong, its surface cooler than the air. And was that gold again? Unsurprising, perhaps, to include it in such a ritual.

Whomp.

A large red blur rushed toward him from the cavern, and the glass jerked abruptly upward, its rim nearly clipping him under the chin. He flinched back, falling hard onto his behind, and scrambled backward like a crab, legs skidding over loose sand. His heart hammered painfully hard. He didn’t stop until his back slammed into the rough stone wall, where he pressed himself flat, panting in short gasps.

The air was full of fine sand and dry petals. Slowly, they drifted down, only the smallest particles staying adrift, stirred repeatedly by a soft, rhythmic current.

Stephen blinked hard until his eyes focused again.

A big, red dragon was staring at him with its gleaming, amber eyes. It had squeezed itself half into the tunnel, the opening too narrow for its massive form, the glass wedged awkwardly against the walls. Apart from the slow rise and fall of its breathing, the creature was motionless now, but with its maw slightly open, revealing rows of pointy teeth, it remained no less menacing.

Fortunately, it also looked stuck.

Well, this was a bit of a scare—Stephen’s thought cut off abruptly as another voice overlapped it in his mind:

Well, this was a bit of a bust—

Stephen froze. The thought hadn’t been his own. The dragon’s stare grew even more intense somehow. An effect of the further bulging of those luminous eyes, probably.

A foreign presence brushed Stephen’s mind, disorienting and impossible to ignore: It speaks?

Wong frowned. He hadn’t actually considered that. Or at least he hadn’t considered that Stephen wouldn’t be able to bring those traditions into his wedding. Almost all of those traditions required magic to be performed by both partners. And Stark… “You are incapable of participating in those traditions,” Wong said, acknowledging the point Stark seemed to be making. Stephen might want to take part in those traditions, but he’d never bring it up, because that would imply that Stark couldn’t give Stephen the life he wanted. Stephen would never do that. Not when, in every other way, Stark gave Stephen everything he needed. A few wedding traditions paled in comparison.

“Exactly,” Stark said. “I’m currently incapable. Which is why I want you to teach me.”

Wong arched an eyebrow. “Stephen would gladly teach you.”

Stark made a so-so gesture. “Stephen knows I used to hate magic. He’d think my attempt to learn magic is some sort of sacrifice I’m making because I love him.”

“Is it?”

Stark shrugged. “I’m not going to pretend I love the idea. I can’t imagine that magic and I will mesh well. But this is Stephen and I want to give him this. Stephen outweighs anything else. So. I’m asking you to teach me.”

Wong examined him for a long moment. He hadn’t taken on a personal student in quite some time, though he worked with the novices and apprentices regularly. But Stark wouldn’t be a normal student. He most certainly wouldn’t be able to come to Kamar-Taj, not with the other roles he played. Wong’s first instinct was to say no. He had far more important things to do with his time.

But…

Stephen had become one of Wong’s best friends. Wong was very well aware that Stephen loved Stark fiercely, that being able to perform those wedding traditions with Stark would mean the world to him.

Wong sighed. “I’ll teach you,” he said. It would be a good wedding gift to give Stephen. “But don’t expect me to go easy on you.”

Stark laughed. “Trust me, I didn’t expect you to. When do we start?”

It had been so long since he had woken up next to someone—or rather, in someone's arms—that he had forgotten what it felt like. 

Stephen's arm was wrapped around Tony's waist, one of his legs was between Tony's, and Stephen's warm chest was pressed against Tony's back. Tony could feel the sorcerer's breath in his hair, and he could feel Stephen's chest rising and falling against his back in time with his breathing.

For the first time in a long time, Tony didn't want to jump up and start his day. Instead, he wanted to relish this moment and prolong the connection they had shared the night before.

Tony pressed himself closer to his lover, revelling in the moment.

"Good morning."

Tony stretched a little and replied in a sleepy voice, "Hmmm... Good morning, my wizard."

Tony's smile widened when he felt Stephen's laughter rumble against his hair. He tilted his head back slightly and Stephen's lips immediately pressed a long kiss on his temple.

"I could definitely get used to waking up this way."

Stephen hummed in agreement and tightened his arm around Tony's waist.

They stayed like that for a few more moments until Friday's voice broke the moment's sweetness.

"Boss, Colonel Rhodes reminds you that there's a meeting with the UN Council at the end of the morning to discuss the commemoration of the victory against Thanos."

What a return to reality.

Tony sighed and ran a hand over his face.

"Shit. I forgot.”

Friday added, "The colonel also thought you'd like to know that all the Earth forces that participated that day will be at the meeting."

Tony swallowed.

That meant he would see them again.

Even though their relationship was polite, resentment and hurt feelings resurfaced at each meeting, which were fortunately rare.

“Tony?”

The sorcerer's voice brought him back to reality.

Tony turned in his arms and Stephen pushed him slightly to get a better look at his face, seeking his gaze.

He asked softly, "Are you okay?"

Tony nodded slowly, but he didn't look entirely convinced. He buried his face in his lover's neck, and Stephen wrapped his arms around him.  

The sorcerer said softly, "You never told me what happened with them and with Steve. Not that you have to talk about it, of course.”

Unlike with Rhodes, Pepper, or even his therapist, Tony realized he wanted to talk about it this time. He wanted Stephen to know everything. After all, Stephen wasn't involved with Tony and the Avengers at the time, so he could offer an unbiased perspective.

"I'll tell you everything, but first, I need a coffee."

Stephen nudged him gently, kissed him on the forehead, and replied, "I'll make us some breakfast. You go freshen up in the meantime."

Tony nodded and got up. Stephen was so understanding that Tony was almost breathless.  The sorcerer knew that Tony needed time alone before revisiting those painful memories.

Stephen put on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt that belonged to Tony and magically adjusted them to his size. Then he headed for the kitchen. 

He prepared a hearty but not overly heavy breakfast. 

A moment later, he placed two cups of coffee on the counter just as Tony arrived, dressed casually as well. Tony sat down on one of the bar stools across from Stephen, breathed in the coffee's aroma, and took a sip.

"Mmm, divine...no, not divine. Magical.”

Stephen chuckled softly and bit into a piece of toast while Tony twirled his cup between his hands.

Tony cleared his throat. "Well, let's start at the beginning."

He told him about Ultron, the first thing that caused a rift between him and several members of the team. He didn't leave anything out. He didn't shy away from taking responsibility. He wanted Stephen to know everything.  

Then he told him about what the press had called "The Civil War." He discussed the accords and their many weaknesses. He took responsibility for his part in the fiasco, too.

Tony also talked about his motivations and how he had been haunted by what he saw in the wormhole in 2012, which Wanda's manipulation had intensified.

Finally, he talked about Steve and their awkward beginnings. 

"You know..." Tony's voice cracked, so he took a sip of coffee to compose himself. Stephen squeezed his hand gently to encourage him.

Tony continued, "You know, Howard always talked about Steve as if he were a god sent down from heaven. Always praising him. I always wanted to live up to his expectations, but I was never good enough. Steve was the one who should have been his son."

His voice trembled slightly, but he continued.

"So when I met Steve, I tried. I tried to understand him, I swear. And I really believed we had built a friendship. But...”

His throat tightened and he struggled to continue, running his hand several times over his chest, where the front reactor had been.

Stephen listened attentively, his hands clasped around his cup. He said nothing, waiting for Tony to continue. What his lover had already told him gave the sorcerer an idea. Like pieces of a puzzle, he slowly put together certain things that Tony had said or done when talking about his former team, as well as things left unsaid that he hadn't understood when they first met.

Tony continued, "The worst thing of all isn't our fight or the fact that he left me for dead in Siberia. All three of us acted on instinct and rage at that moment. But what I can't accept and am not ready to forgive is the lie. Steve was supposed to be my friend, but he lied to me all this time. No, I can't get over that."

He drained the rest of his coffee.

"Bucky—or rather, the Winter Soldier—murdered my parents. That's a fact. I know a thing or two about mind control; I've been a victim of it. So, I'm able to see both sides. But for Steve to deliberately hide that from me..."

Tony angrily bit into a piece of toast as Stephen whispered, "Rogers knew for two years, and he didn't tell you."

Tony shook his head. 

“Instead of coming to me, he chose to protect Bucky. I understand. Honestly, I understand. Bucky was his best friend. He was the only link he had left to his old life. But we were supposed to trust each other. To me, that's worse than him abandoning me like that."

Stephen raised an eyebrow.

Tony smiled bitterly and said, "Okay, fine. I'm not saying I don't feel anything every time I see that damn shield... even though Sam's carrying it now... I can't help but check to see if my heart is still beating."

He took another sip of the coffee Stephen had just refilled for him.

"For someone to claim to be my friend and hide something so essential from me..."

He paused, then asked hesitantly, "Is it wrong not to be able to forgive that?"

Stephen placed his hand on Tony’s and replied softly, looking into his lover’s eyes: "No, Tony. It’s not wrong. You don't have to forgive. You don't have to feel guilty about how you feel. How you feel is legitimate."

Tony nodded slowly, sipping his coffee and letting Stephen’s words sink in.

Then, he saw Stephen's expression change as his smile faded.

"Stephen?"

Stephen looked down before standing up and saying in a slightly hoarse voice, "I have to tell you something. It's something I've kept from you for...for too long. I don't want to be another person who lies to you."

Tony frowned.

“What is it?”

Stephen walked around the counter and stood beside Tony.

"That day on Titan... When I said that I could only see one future in which we were victorious against Thanos, I lied.”

Tony remained silent, growing slightly concerned when he saw Stephen's expression.

Stephen took his hands as if he needed that contact to continue.

"Actually, there were two futures."

Tony gasped in surprise and waited anxiously for more.

Stephen swallowed and looked down before continuing, "In the other one... We lost on Titan. I gave Thanos the Time Stone. He left us on Titan and went to get the last stone. With a snap of his fingers, he wiped out half of all life in the universe, including Peter and me. That left you alone with Nebula on Titan. You survived. Five years later, you found a way to reverse Thanos's actions, and we won. At the cost of your own life."

Stephen paused, his voice breaking.

Tony stared at him, his eyes wide. "Wow, that's crazy."

Stephen shook his head. "In that future, you had a family. You married Pepper and had a daughter named Morgan who looked just like you. But I chose the other future, the one where you survive. I deprived you of the possibility of having a family, even if only briefly.”

As if afraid of Tony's gaze, Stephen let go of his hands and stepped out onto the balcony.

Tony sat for a moment, his heart pounding at these revelations. 

Then he thought about everything that had happened since their victory on Titan and, seeing Stephen's tense posture on the balcony, he knew what he had to do. 

Tony got up and joined his lover.

Without a word, he hugged Stephen from behind, resting his forehead against his back and wrapping his arms around his waist.

In a hoarse voice, Stephen said, "I'm sorry I took away your chance to choose. To choose a family.” 

Tony tightened his embrace, then gently turned the sorcerer in his arms. He stepped back a little, raised his hand, and placed it on Stephen's cheek, gently caressing his cheekbone with his thumb.

In a clear, firm voice, he said, "Stephen. Listen to me carefully. You didn't deprive me of anything. You gave me a life. You gave me a future. My family is with you, Peter, Rhodey, Pepper, and Happy. I don't need anything else."

With his throat tightening, Tony continued, "These last five years... I've never been happier. And since we've been together, even more so. It's because of you."

He took a breath because he knew he couldn't ignore how he felt anymore. 

He knew what it was, and he wanted Stephen to know.

"I love you, Stephen. More than I ever thought possible.”

Stephen looked at him, overwhelmed.

"Really? You don't resent me for this future that isn't?”

“How could I feel resentment when you've given me a life full of happiness? I don't have a daughter who looks like me, but I have you. This morning, when I woke up in your arms, it was the first time I felt complete.”

"Then yes, Stephen Strange. I love you."

Stephen closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. 

When he opened them again, he cupped Tony's face in his hands, rested his forehead against Tony's, and said in a voice trembling with emotion, "I love you, too, Tony. You are the life of me. And I bless the day Hulk broke through the roof of the Sanctum because that's the day I met you.”

He pressed his lips to Tony's in a long, deep kiss that embodied all their feelings.The lingering tension from their conversation, the overwhelming relief that it was over, and, above all, the depth of their love for each other.

When they finally parted, they rested their foreheads together, their breath mingling and a soft, genuine laugh escaped Tony, to which Stephen joined in.

They returned to their breakfast, laughing, and the atmosphere was relaxed from the shared relief.  

Suddenly, Friday's voice broke in.

"Boss, less than an hour until the meeting."

Tony sighed.

"That's right..."

Stephen took his lover's hand and said gently but firmly, "I'm coming with you."

"What? But I can't ask you..."

Stephen shook his head.

"You're not asking me. I'm doing this because I want to. I want to be with you. Friday?”

“Yes, Doctor Strange?”

“Did the colonel mention that all the Earth forces present that day will be here?”

"Exactly."

Stephen raised an eyebrow and looked at Tony.

"I'm one of these, so you see, darling, I have to be there, too."

Tony would have refused before, not wanting to impose on Stephen. But, for once, he didn't protest because it felt good to have the support of the one he loved.

"Okay."

Stephen pressed a long kiss into his palm and said with a wink, "Team Stark and Strange. Sounds good, doesn't it?"

Tony laughed softly and said, "Let me come up with the nicknames, sweetheart."

He laughed again when he saw Stephen's cheeks flush slightly at the endearing term.

They finished their breakfast together in this lighthearted mood.

Later, they would attend the meeting. 

There would be tension, unspoken words, and uncertainty, but, for the first time, Tony was going there with peace of mind and a light heart.

It was thanks to the sorcerer across from him, who had given him the life he deserved.

The life they both deserved.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝