Peggy Carter — A Dream She Didn't Expect
Peggy told herself it was nothing.
Just a walk.
Just a stranger.
Just a kind man with unsettling eyes and a calm voice.
And yet—
That night, as the city quieted and the hum of warplanes faded into the distance, Peggy Carter dreamed.
She was weightless.
Strong arms held her effortlessly, secure and warm, carrying her as if the world posed no danger at all. She looked up—
Alex.
His molten-gold eyes were gentle, focused entirely on her. The world blurred, faded, leaving only the space between them.
Her breath hitched as he leaned closer.
So close she could feel his warmth.
Just before their lips met—
"NO—!"
Peggy jolted upright in bed, heart pounding.
She stared at the ceiling, chest rising and falling rapidly.
"…Damn it," she muttered.
She fell back onto her pillow, then immediately hugged it, burying her face.
"Why did I wake up now?"
She rolled onto her side. Then onto her stomach. Then back again.
Sleep refused to return.
Her cheeks burned as his face replayed in her mind—his voice, his smile, the way he saw her.
"…I'll see him again," she whispered to herself.
"I know I will."
And for the first time in a long while, Peggy Carter smiled at the thought of the future.
Hera — Living Without a Throne
Hera adapted… surprisingly well.
She learned how to dress not as a queen, but as a woman blending into a mortal city. She discovered joy in small routines—morning walks, choosing fabric, listening to Alex hum while cooking.
She still carried herself with divine grace.
But she no longer needed a throne to feel complete.
One afternoon, she watched Alex argue with a shopkeeper over fruit prices.
"…You're haggling," Hera said flatly.
Alex glanced at her.
"It's a mortal custom."
She watched carefully.
Then, later, she tried it herself.
She failed spectacularly.
The shopkeeper won.
Hera stared at the receipt in disbelief.
"…I ruled Olympus for millennia."
Alex laughed until he had to lean against the wall.
She scowled—then laughed too.
Stark Industries — An Anomaly in the Ledger
Two days later.
Howard Stark sat in his office, glasses low on his nose, reviewing stock movement.
Then he paused.
"…That's not right."
He leaned closer.
25% of Stark Industries.
Purchased quietly. Cleanly. No noise.
Howard's smile faded into curiosity.
"Who the hell has that kind of capital… without flexing?"
He flipped the file.
Investor Name: Alexander Ashborn
Background: Old noble family, French origin
Status: Settled in America
Notes: Exceptional investment accuracy, extensive political connections, no public scandals
Howard whistled softly.
"Either this man is a ghost," he muttered, "or he's dangerous."
He leaned back, tapping his pen.
Then grinned.
"Well. I do like interesting people."
Howard picked up the phone.
"Get me an appointment with Mr. Alexander Ashborn," he said.
"And tell him Stark Industries would be delighted to meet him."
He hung up, eyes gleaming.
"Let's see who you really are, Mr. Ashborn."
Threads Quietly Align
In their mansion, Alex poured tea as Hera watched the sunset from the balcony.
"You're being watched," she said casually.
Alex smiled faintly.
"I know."
"And you don't care?"
"I've lived long enough to know," he replied, handing her a cup,
"some meetings are inevitable."
Somewhere across the city, Peggy Carter stared out her window, thinking of molten-gold eyes.
Somewhere else, Howard Stark prepared for a meeting that would redefine his understanding of power.
And unseen by all—
The Phoenix Monarch continued to walk the world gently,
one step at a time.