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“I’ve been told it’s not as easy as declaring you free,” Tony said, pouring a second glass of wine and pushing it over the table to where his coronation gift, Stephen Strange, sat.
The Sorcerer Strange arched an eyebrow. “Are you suggesting you would, if it were so easy?” he asked, skepticism clear. “How simple a thing to say when there’s no fear of being made to follow through.”
Tony nodded, acknowledging the point. “You have no reason to believe me.” He waved his hand at the wine, indicating that Strange could drink.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, the Sorcerer Strange declined.
Tony continued. “What binds you?” he asked. “My father’s fighter was bound by a blood curse laid on his ancestor. The former regent’s fighter was bound as consequence of a broken deal.” He arched an eyebrow at Strange. “And you?”
Strange considered him. “Why do you care?”
“Because,” Tony said, a little exasperated. “I can’t just declare you free. But…” He glanced away. “I swore I’d have no more die for me. You, I will admit, were an unwanted gift. I would prefer to break your bonds than merely gift them on.” He paused. “Unless, perhaps, you enjoy the ring, in which case, you can choose your next owner.”
Strange scoffed. “Hardly.” He eyed Tony, gaze thoughtful. “It could be an unwarranted concern,” he said. “No one says I will die. I’m… quite capable.”
Tony believed it, Strange radiated danger and competence, beneath it, however, hid the quiet resignation of a man trapped and hopeless. “Regardless,” Tony said. “Help me break your bonds or choose someone else to hold your chains.”
Strange considered him a moment longer, before picking up the goblet of wine Tony had given him earlier to take a sip. “Well,” he said. “This ought to be interesting.”