Chapter Text
“Here’s another one,” Daniel announced, waving yet another crisp white envelope as he strode through the portal into Kamar-Taj.
The Ancient One put down her tea to rub her temples. “How many does that make it within the week, Master Drumm?”
He performed a quick count on his fingers. “I think this is the fifth, Ancient One. they’re increasing in frequency. I think she realizes you’re avoiding responding.”
“I am not avoiding anything,” she lied. “I’m merely considering my options.”
Daniel expertly flipped the envelope between his fingers, rolling it like a coin. “Why not take her on? She seems an eager enough student.”
The Ancient One could barely contain a laugh. “And what will she do with all that power? She is wildly dangerous already, Master Drumm, and her loyalties would never truly lie with the masters. Who knows what havoc she could wreak?” She traced the rim of her teacup, trying to tamp down on her frustration. “Why my alternate self decided to enable Agent Romanoff’s foray into the mystic arts, I’m sure I’ll never know.”
Daniel shrugged, tossing the envelope onto her table. “Whatever you say. Just be prepared to keep getting letters. I’m certainly not keeping them for you. The Sanctum Sanctorum is not a P.O. box.”
“Believe me, Master Drumm, I know. Thank you.”
The Ancient One managed to wait until Daniel disappeared back through his portal to drop her head into her hands, dropping all pretenses of collectedness. “And here I thought that the extra Loki would be the most troublesome part of this whole affair.” She had foolishly disregarded the stray timeline where the Widow rose to mystic prominence, believing it far-fetched and not worth seriously preparing for. Look where that had gotten her.
She lifted her head and stared down at the envelope before her, pointedly addressed to The Ancient One of Earth 1922. Could she feasibly delay this whole issue until Stephen was the one who had to deal with it?
“Did you get my letters?”
The Ancient One’s head shot up. Sitting cross-legged across from her was the Black Widow. Uncharacteristically, she seemed to have no weapons on her person—even with the perception granted by a mystic eye.
The Ancient One tried and failed not to be caught off guard. “How did you-?”
Agent Romanoff shrugged. “I broke into the Sanctum—actually, let’s call it ‘entering without permission’, that sounds better—and watched where the master went. Luckily, I’d already seen the place in the other timeline, so it was pretty easy to get here myself.”
If she ever had the chance, the Ancient One was going to strangle her alternate self. Possibly Agent Romanoff, too, but she was under no illusions that that venture would prove successful.
Agent Romanoff nodded at the envelope, still incriminatingly white against the rich wood. “Looks like you did get my letters. So?”
Desperately trying to maintain control of the situation, the Ancient One once again picked up her teacup. “So?”
Agent Romanoff’s expression flattened. “I don’t like to beg.”
“And yet, here you are, about to do just that.”
That made her cross her arms and double down. “Your other self saw something in me. I’ve managed pretty damn well with the scraps I’ve been given. You said so yourself that there were things beyond our grasp gunning for us. All I’ve got to fight them are some handguns and martial arts. My best friend’s weapon of choice is a stick and string. I could protect my team and the world—furthering your own goals—and you wouldn’t have to even leave…” Agent Romanoff glanced around. “…this place.”
“Kamar-Taj,” the Ancient One corrected automatically, then cursed herself when the Widow’s smile curved upwards. “Agent Romanoff, it is not a matter of debate. You having this information could throw the world out of balance. You are too strongly tied to the interests of a single country to be objective.”
She raised an eyebrow. “S.H.I.E.L.D. is in tatters. I won’t be able to work for the American government again for years, if ever. My interests lie with the Avengers.”
The Ancient One shook her head. “It is too risky.”
“That’s what the other you said just before she turned back time like I asked and it all turned out fine,” Agent Romanoff challenged, placing an elbow on the table. “No tricks. Nothing used on missions from S.H.I.E.L.D. or the WSC. Nothing that could tip the scales. Happy?”
The Ancient One was not, in fact, happy. The Ancient One was currently rather annoyed. But she didn’t need the Time Stone to tell her that it would take more than this conversation to dissuade Natasha Romanoff. She closed her eyes and cast about for any dregs of patience remaining, as well as a plan to keep the entire world from tumbling into tumult because of one woman. “Allow me to propose a deal.”
Agent Romanoff was far too well trained for that to elicit any sort of external reaction, but the Ancient One could feel her focus narrow and sharpen to a knife’s edge nonetheless. “I’m listening.”