It was only a few fateful weeks ago Prince Anthony Stark found out he had been betrothed to Stephen Strange, the Prince Sorcerer, since he was a child.
He wishes he knew this before everything fell apart.
He had met Prince Strange a few times before he found the truth out. They were brief moments that Tony could hardly remember (but once he remembered, he had no idea how he ever forgot), like, eyes meeting across a court session. Bright, gorgeous blue eyes he couldn't look away from. A handsome man kissing his hand and being the only person to wish him many years to come after his birthday. A tall young man with dark hair asking him to dance before being taken away by his mother. But he never truly meet him until the course of his life changed for good.
In the timespan of those days was perhaps the most interesting and scary of Tony's entire monotone life. His kingdom had been destroyed by the same soldiers that the kingdom prided themselves on creating. Tony had been forced out, and had to leave the kingdom, being hunted down by his own Uncle, being accused of espionage. All of those were plights, ones he could have never imagined.
His betrothed had come to his rescue when he was lost at sword point, a miraculous escape. Stane claimed himself the king regent, until Tony was married or turned twenty, the lands age of respect.
Stane was not pleased with the law. Tony had been immature and not fit to rule. He had unfavorable connections with untrustworthy people, Stane announced, desperate to remain on the throne.
He was an outcast and being called a mole for his own kingdom.
He was able to find shelter with one of his knights family, a very dedicated, kind teenager named Peter. The trip to safety was a new experience- Tony had never not had a bed to sleep in, food to feast on, water to drink and a place to call home, He had grown up in cruel luxury, always getting what he wanted but never receiving what he needed.
Over the bonfire-filled nights he connected with his traveling companions- Peter Parker, a brave and loyal junior knight- one of the only ones to stick by his side. Tony was pleasantly surprised when he found out the ‘good boy’ was really a snarky trickster. Peter is a prankster, a light hearted teenager. When the air got heavy, Tony saw his face on a wanted poster, Tony had to look away. Peter gave him something to look at, a way to reset his brain. An inhale and exhale. Swinging down from trees to annoy Stephen. Replacing Harleys compass with a rock. Mimicking their accents. Rubbing honey on Peppers feet. Despite his nature, Peter was nervous sometimes too, jittery for no reasons, and Tony had to understand that not only him had lost what he had only known.
A snarky, witty farm boy named Harley who knew the way to Peters village through the woods. He, unlike Peter, had a sweet side he tried to bury under jokes and inappropriate gestures that turned endearing over time. But they all noticed it in the way he nestled himself into whoever was closet during the night, which was usually Peter, the way he was always quick to show concern or worry over Tony (“We’re connected, I can feel what you feel Tones, and it seems to me we need to take a rest, since you’re old. C'mon, Peter looks like he's gonna faint any second as well.”) and in the way he knew when to give comfort and when to give space. Harley and Peter had formed an odd bond Tony found himself confused and amused by, the twos contrasting natures.
There was clever doctor named Ho Yinsen, who helped keep Tony alive after his Uncle stabbed him. The doctor, initially was very hesitant to join the group on their journey to safety. He had insisted he wasn’t afraid of the soldiers roaming the kingdom menacingly, and he was too unprepared to embark on their “illogical and irrelevant quest to cowardice’. But Yinsen had always been the one constant in Tony’s life that he had always needed. The man with bandages to help him when he fell off his horse. The man with the drugs when he fell ill with chickenpox, or children's plague, as it was called. Yinsen, who Tony had needed. Who Tony needs presently, and the man knows he needs him too.
His maid and best friend, Pepper Potts, a virtuous and beautiful woman who always managed for them to find somewhere to spend the night, no matter the conditions. She knew Tony well, and while she said she put up with him, they are both aware of the bond they share- one of shared exasperation at the bumbling suitors and poofy princesses, late nights eating the cooks cheesy potatoes and dipping their feet in soothing water with strong scents, of waves and smiles and secret meets. Pepper is the one thing from his kingdom that kept him going.
And the Sorcerer, Stephen Strange who… who Tony was supposed to marry at his late father's wish to make his army stronger. Stephens parents had been killed by Tony's kingdom soldiers. Stephen was in a similar position like him, a heir on the run. But unlike Tony, he stepped up courageously and answered to the fate he didn't choose with determination and wits. Stephen was dedicated, Tony realized. He was an amazing warrior. Who was sweet and gentle with Tony when he felt ill (and his heart was surely crumbling in his chest, he was dying certainly, - until Stephen rushed to him and looked at him with those eyes… he was alright again), and hard with him when he needed a push. Who never forced himself on Tony, unlike many other suitors Tony had encountered. He was there when Tony needed him to be.
Stephen cared enough to propose him and Tony got married now, to help save his kingdom. He was earnest and sweet, brave and ready to take back what belonged to him.
But Tony stepped back. He said he wasn’t ready to be a king, and that his kingdom wouldn't take him back. He wasn't needed, he lied. The phrase ‘independence’ was the one he used but didn’t feel. After the dismissive refusal turned into straight out stubbornness and faux innocence, Stephen left, upset. He called Tony a coward. He had looked at him with such confidence, that he knew Tony was better than that and damned him, damned him, he made Tony love him.
He misses him.
Tony laid in infinite darkness, praying for sleep. He lasted only a few minutes before he sat up and stroked his box of matches, igniting a bright yellow flame that reminded him of camping in the woods with his family. He lights the candle on his bedside and shakes his hand, extinguishing the memories.
His eyes caught the small mirror on the wall and he saw his tired face, raccoon circles around his eyes, and the slouch in his shoulders. Dirty fingers from helping May and Peter with the farm. A plain, beige shirt that hung off his shoulders and smelled slightly of manure. Everything smelt.
How long ago it seemed he was one of the most powerful, desired princes.
He was about to ball up under the covers and try to sleep with the light still on so he wouldn’t flinch at the slightest sounds, when he heard faint music and giggles from behind the house.
Rising to his knees, he peered over the vines and through the window to see Harley dancing in the garden as Peter played the piccolo, dancing beside him. Peter took his arm and Harley swirled around and around as they twirled and laughed, the two of them celebrating the end of each song with a passionate kiss.
Tony watched, mesmerized. All this time, he’d thought of them as two young, foolish teens, having no semblance of a real relationship. He closes his eyes and blinks at the flashes of memories behind his eyelids. He believed if he had never fallen in love as a teenager, neither would they. Instead, they were swaying and kissing at midnight for no reason at all, two punch-drunk teenagers. It didn’t matter where they were, who was around them, what they had and what they didn’t. It didn’t matter how old they were, or how they acted.
They still had each other.
They still had love.
Tony flushed with shame. Here he was, surrendering the only one he had ever felt so strongly for and truly loved because he was too afraid to fight for his own self-worth. He couldn’t stand up for himself. And not only that, he was pretending he was doing it to protect his kingdom. What kind of coward hides behind innocent people? The innocent people he was supposed to be protecting? What would his family think of him now? A true prince didn’t hide from his fate. By not being with Stephen, he was ruining both of their lives. None of it mattered as long as they were together. Because they worked together.
He didn’t have to be a King. He had to be his King.
And that, he knew how to do.
Without thinking, he was staggering out of the bedroom and down the hall. He runs by Yinsen, who smiles at the young man's back. He quickly passed May and Pepper talking quietly in the kitchen. They call for him, but he flings open the front door and darted down the porch steps to the dewy moors. He squinted into the dark night, heart breaking…
Because it was too late. Stephen was gone.
Crestfallen, he hung his head and trudged back towards the door.
A soft crunching sound crackled in the distance.
Tony looked up and saw a familiar outline far across the heath moving towards the house.
He slunk forward, eyes fixed ahead as they adjusted to the darkness.
“Rhodey?” he called out.
But now he recognized the heft of the walk . . . the long, muscular arms and broad shoulders. . . the thick belt around his waist, twin swords sheathed, assertiveness in his walk.
Stephen's gaze locked on him as he strode towards the house.
Before he knew it, Tony was sprinting towards him and Stephen runs towards him as well. Stumbling in the dark, Tony could hear himself panting, choking up, as his shadow hurtled towards his, faster, faster, until they collided like stars and Tony fell. Stephen swept him up in his arms as Tony laughed and he kissed him long and hard, like he’d never kissed him before— because he had never kissed him before. Tony could feel the passion of the kiss throughout his whole body, a warm feeling stretching to his finger tips and his toes. Stephens arms were reassuring around him, strong and steady. They broke away, foreheads together.
“You think I don’t know you, Tony,” he whispered. “You think I can’t see who you are.”
“I…” Tony trails off, not knowing how to be honest, and not knowing what to say. For once in his entire life.
Stephen shudders. “I promise you’ve proved yourself to me. I know who you are Tony.”
“It’s not enough for you to see and know it,” said Tony, finding his voice. “I have to see it too.”
“And now our kingdoms will see it. My whole kingdom, and yours. The two combined. The greatest King who will ever live.”
Tony stared into his eyes, so clear, so convinced. “But I’m just me—I’m just a powerless prince . . . a mole. . . and you . . . you’re . . .”
“You think I know how to be a king?” Stephen blurted, looking hysterical.
“What? But you always act so—”
“Act. Act!” He shook his head, voice breaking. “Tell me you love me, Anthony. Tell me you’ll never give me up again. Tell me you’ll be my prince, my king forever—”
“I love you, Stephen,” Tony wept. “I love you more than you know.”
“Say the rest too!” Stephen pleaded, pulling him closer and closer.
“I—”
But there were no more words, no more doubts, as tears streamed down their faces and mixed on their lips, the sugar and salt of love.