Doctor Stephen Strange (mister_doctor) wrote in noexits, @ 2021-12-07 13:19:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log/thread/narrative, marvel (tv/movies): stephen strange, → week 025 (npc invasion) |
NPC Invasion | Day Four - Backdated
WHO: Frigga | Stephen Strange
WHAT: Stephen has an audience with the queen of Asgard.
WHERE: The Clearing
WHEN: NPC Invasion, Day 4 (before the dinner happens)
WARNINGS: None
STATUS: Complete
It was a great opportunity and honor to have an audience with the All-Mother. By the time Stephen had become a sorcerer and read about who she was, the tragedy of her death by the hands of Dark Elves had reached Kamar- Taj. Even the self-controlled Ancient One was moved by the news. Stephen had been certain he’d lost his chance to ever meet Queen Frigga, but now that Derleth afforded him that chance he certainly wasn’t going to pass it by. He felt a giddy sort of excitement, mingled with a nervous awe in anticipation.
I know of you, doctor. That’s what she’d written, but there was no way she could’ve heard of him, since she was gone before began his journey on the mystic path. No material way, that is. The Ancient One would sometimes speak in such a way to let him understand that his arrival was foreseen, but they never elaborated. The mantle of Sorcerer Supreme was a great responsibility, so it made sense if the current one would know the identity of their successor, what to speak of somebody whose magical ability exceeded the Ancient One’s.
She chose to meet in the clearing Fandral made in the forest, which Stephen deemed very appropriate, in lieu of a palace. It was a public place, but if Frigga wanted privacy, she would certainly have her means to control who came and went, and who would be able to see and hear their conversation. If it was Stephen’s choice, he would rather not have Loki (any version) or the other magic-users around - but then again, he wasn’t going to dictate the terms of their meeting.
Stephen came into Frigga’s presence, and while he was still a distance away, he dropped to both knees, hands placed upon his thighs as he bowed his head in reverence. It was the same ceremonial greeting of respect that he’d give the Ancient One, part of the discipline of his teaching. He remained in that position until she called for him.
****
Wasn’t he a delight? Frigga was no Queen here, but she appreciated manners and respect - she gave both to those who showed her the same courtesy in return; even if she didn’t particularly care for someone’s crudeness, she didn’t lash out but she had a way of invoking chilly All-Mother tone which could send a shiver vibrating through even the most stoic of skeletons. It was a gift.
But there was no threat of coldness to be found - she exuded warmth and a welcome nature, back out here in the clearing that was as green as any spring meadow. Dark green, really, a strange and almost enchanting sort of forest - she’d been spending a lot of time outside during her Derleth visit and had no complaints. “Hello, doctor,” she greeted, offering a gentle bow, a respectful curtsy of her own after she wandered closer. “Please, rise and join me here in the clearing.”
She clasped her hands in front of her, assessing. There was always an air of knowledge about her - her clairvoyance meant that she saw it all; past, present, future. The future was especially tricky - fog often obscured her view, but then again, she also saw with more than simply her eyes. “What would you like to discuss during our meeting? The floor is yours,” she added.
***
In Frigga’s face there was a patient sort of peace that came with experience and wisdom. All of a sudden, Stephen experienced a longing he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a long time: he missed the Ancient One. And while he could remind himself that she was never truly gone in spirit, he was still attached to her material form.
Stephen had loads of confidence, and even could admit to his overconfidence, but deep down inside, he knew he had a lot to learn. And that was worrisome.
Okay, and why was the Cloak of Levitation fluttering like that? Was it happy to meet Frigga? Stephen discreetly swatted it with his hand and rose to his feet to follow close, but keeping a half a step behind. He’d been in this clearing before, but Frigga’s presence energized the area in a way that mystics could only appreciate. At first, he opened his mouth to answer, but couldn’t find the words. It was likely she knew anyway, but it was the act of admission that was therapeutic. One couldn’t begin to heal until a diagnosis was made.
“The Ancient One had many choices for their successor, and who am I to question their decision. But I feel unprepared. Since my arrival, I’ve tried to see Derleth as a training ground. I’ve come across a number of dangerous circumstances, but if it hadn’t been for the weekly resets, I would be dead. I’m feeling unfit, but at the same time I don’t want to give up being Sorcerer Supreme.” He needed reassurance… encouragement. There were maybe a handful of people in Derleth who might understand what he was going through, but they weren’t close enough to reveal his mind to them. As a result, he was alone, yet he kept such a good facade that nobody could tell.
***
Frigga nodded, moving to sit on one of the wooden benches. It was smooth, lacking splinters (how unbecoming), and Fandral had done a more than excellent job at creating a serene space meant for reflection in such a dreary world. She patted the space beside her, if Stephen also wished to sit.
That Cloak was adorable though - she even extended her hand to it, if it would allow her to give it a gentle stroke.
“Your journey has been an incredible one,” she said. She could feel it - this was how she saw more than with her own eyes; she knew someone’s heart for what it was. Clairvoyance was a little like playing the piano - some sat down and could play naturally, an effortless glide over the eighty-eight keys. For others, they sometimes just weren’t meant to ever play that well. She saw things differently, akin to observing a photograph and noticing different aspects that were emphasized. She sensed things.
She sensed a lot here. Good things.
“The Ancient One told you that it’s not about you, did she not?” Frigga went on. “You realized that. Your journey led you to become a person who was willing to die over and over again to keep humanity safe - even those who perhaps did not deserve your sacrifice, or would never know. There is no better person fit for the role of Sorcerer Supreme. Do not let Derleth’s darkness pull the wool over your eyes about that.”
****
The Ancient One never did reveal her motivations - they were a mysterious personality who imparted their wisdom when they deemed the recipient ready. Stephen hadn’t been ready, and he always assumed the reason was that the knowledge would play upon his ego. Was this now the time? Because of Frigga’s position, he felt as though the Ancient One was speaking to him through her, so hearing her speak about his qualification to be the Sorcerer Supreme was a great comfort.
What Frigga said about his willingness to sacrifice himself had occurred to Stephen before, but it was something he didn’t like to dwell upon. The only person he ever told about his method of preventing Dormammu from invading Earth was Wong, and that was because he was afraid he might become proud and start bragging. It was certainly in his nature, a fault in his character that he struggled to tame. His stubbornness became an advantage, but he still had concerns.
“What you say about Derleth, I’m concerned that it will affect me. Last week we found ourselves on a version of Earth, and I used sorcery to my advantage, not only to conjure money for needed supplies, but to enjoy myself with a fancy hotel room, a rental car, luxuries that I hadn’t enjoyed since before my accident. On one side, I feel it was something I needed to recuperate, but on the other I feel guilty for abusing my magic, which is a path I’m afraid that I may take if not reigned in.”
Unbeknownst to Stephen, the Cloak responded to Frigga by reaching with a corner to hold her hand.
****
Was she going to ‘hold hands’ with the Cloak? Of course she was. There was no question about that. Frigga gently stroked the red fabric - it was patched in some places. Different material on the inside, like a quilt made of up different blocks. Clearly it was old, and had been through quite a bit - it also didn’t bond with just anybody either, that she could tell.
“That is not something I would be too concerned with,” she advised - but Stephen wasn’t her and she couldn’t force him to do anything, or feel a certain way. He asked for her input, her counsel, and so she’d give it freely - the rest was up to him. “This world has already taken much from you and others. It will continue to take. And if your magic eases some of that burden, then there is no harm in that.”
He was familiar with burdens, wasn’t he? The role of Sorcerer Supreme was certainly one of those burdens - it was a lonely path to walk, when you had to make decisions based on what was best for reality as a whole and not necessarily yourself. “Besides, it also seems like if the world didn’t want you to have any magic at all, it would take that away too,” she pointed out. So as long as he had it, why not use it?
****
Stephen’s guilty conscience was eased by Frigga’s encouragement, but he’d already made up his mind that he wouldn’t be so extravagant in the future. “There have been instances where we’ve been stripped of our abilities, including magic, so you’re right. The Ancient One always taught moderation, and in my case I think that’s what’s best. I know myself well enough that if I don’t rein myself in, there could be problems.”
Problems. There was something else he wanted to talk to Frigga about, but he wondered if it would be too offensive. He then decided she probably knew what he was thinking anyway, and went ahead. “Have you spoken to Loki, yet?” he asked, humbly. “Forgive me for my impertinence, but I worry for him. Not only for his state of mind, but for what he might do. I see him trying, but impulses are strong.”
****
“Moderation is often best,” she concurred. “Not every problem can be solved with magic too, which I am sure you are aware of.” The next question didn’t come as much of a surprise, and she wasn’t offended. Frigga folded her hands in her lap again after stroking the Cloak tenderly. “I have spoken with him.”
Her relationship with her son was wrought with complications - Loki blamed himself for her death, and that wasn’t a particular burden, a guilt, that eased up very easily. She’d done her best to assure him - because she didn’t blame him. And she forgave him - she wanted him to know that.
“His feelings are often fickle and his well-intentioned sacrifices were often temporary,” she continued, sitting straight and regal. “But at the time of his death, he had accepted himself. Accepted that he wasn’t Asgardian, but still a Prince of Asgard anyway - Odin’s son, yet the rightful king of Jotunheim. I don’t believe he would truly do anything to walk all of that back, even if he continues to struggle. He will struggle for a while, internally - we all do, doctor.”
****
Everything - with the exception of Loki’s mindframe at his death - had already been deduced by Stephen from whatever interactions he had with him, either personally or gleaning from public network conversations. Reading Frigga’s body language was difficult, if impossible, so he could only imagine how difficult this was for Frigga. The Cloak was much more sensitive, and soothed her hand.
“What would you say is the best way to help him?” Stephen wondered. His question was not without ulterior motive. Helping Loki would also potentially help protect everybody else in Derleth.
****
What a sweet Cloak. Frigga went back to petting the portion of the fabric that offered itself to her - she could tell it was a stalwart companion to Doctor Strange; it had been there for him in times of need, drying his tears when nothing else would. She was glad that it was here with him now in Derleth. Everyone deserved at least a couple comforts from home.
“Recognize that he may make mistakes occasionally - but also that they are not necessarily a sign of imminent failure,” she said. Frigga believed Loki wasn’t going to harm anyone here - it was those personal struggles that were more central to him that would present a challenge; he may lash out angrily on occasion, but not in the ways he had before. That too was progress. “Share portions of your own journey as well - talk about growth and success. Dramatic growth can lead to arrogance - most growth is indeed a gradual process.”
She hoped that helped a little. Frigga wanted her son to succeed here, and he would - then, when the time was right, they would meet again in those golden, hallowed halls of Valhalla once more.
****
Stephen saw movement out of the corner of his eye and for the first time noticed the silent exchange going on between Frigga and the Cloak. He knew the Cloak was a great judge of character, so it didn’t surprise him… it was just interesting to watch.
“He doesn’t trust me. Which is fair. If I was in his position, I wouldn’t trust me, either. Recently, I’ve been trying to reach out, but I’m not sure he ever will. I’ll take your advice to heart. Thank you.” Stephen nodded his head in a respectful bow. “There is one last thing on my mind. This is a bit of a selfish request, but if I don’t ask I know I’ll regret it. Your reputation as a spell caster is known across the universe, and it would be an honor if you could impart some of your magical knowledge to me.” Stephen couldn’t deny, this was something he was greedy for. When he returned to his universe, it was certain that he wouldn’t remember any of this exchange, but he believed that the experience would still be internalized in some mystical way, making him better in his role as Sorcerer Supreme.
****
“You making the first move cannot hurt,” Frigga replied, smiling kindly. If nothing else, being able to talk magic between the two of them, Strange and Loki, was common ground - it was something she and her son had in common, something she’d shared with him, and that bond was precious to them both.
But she was also not stingy with her magic - if it pleased the doctor to learn a little something from the Asgardian side of things, then she was all too happy to oblige. Perhaps by turning a flower into a frog? That was one of her favorite tricks - it had been one Loki used to appreciate too; she had many spells related to transmutation and illusions that she could share, as a master sorceress.
“I’d be happy to,” her smile broadened a little as she smoothed the skirt of her dress and stood. “Come with me, Doctor Strange. I’m quite sure you’ll make a fine pupil.”