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Welcome to Tahiti! It's a magical place.

The words on every flier, every booklet and every hotel worker's lips had the bad habit of sticking to Sierra Harss' mind like glue, even though they've only been on the island's grounds for less than half a day. Tahiti's catchphrase in marketing became the hymn of her thoughts like some annoying commercial, only this time around, she was oblivious enough into her holiday spirit to think it was an enjoyable sort of vexation.

Twelve hours, from which three were spent only in the airport, through queues and document checks, and at least another two on the road to the first bunch of tourist attractions they wanted to see before settling in the hotel, went by fast. 

Danny planned the whole thing, got everyone on board for this holiday... Luke Cage, Jessica Jones, somehow, Danny even managed to pry Matt Murdock and Master Zhihao away from their beloved cities they had an unshakable desire to safeguard through the nights. Sierra invited Agent W to tag along as well, not only because they've remained friends since the lizard business back when the Hero Control Team was still a thing and not just a tabloid conspiracy about spies, but also because he, as much as her, was in need of a break.

Yes. The need for a holiday. 

It hid itself in dark circles and shivers during summers. It was that ghostly companion poisoning a person's shadow, forcing white hairs to shine through Danny's golden locks all through the Multiversal crisis and into the following weeks when Sierra's sleep schedule was interrupted by nightmares.

He never claimed to know what she had seen, what she knew about the worlds out there, nor did he ever try to make her talk about the possible horrors of it. He knew perhaps better than anyone that some things were better off not poked, but neither of these caring boundaries stopped Danny from worrying about the love of his life; his Guiding Light turned into a flickering candle and it was his duty to do his best to guard that flame of hers in return, not as servitude or duty-bound gratitude for the times she had saved him, but as an act of love. It came naturally, to the point the silver amongst gold was a cosmetic detail he couldn't care less about.

This Tahiti getaway was one of the many holidays Danny planned for them. The world could live on a year without the Immortal Iron Fist actively lighting up his fists every other night and he knew for a fact his company was in the safe and capable hands of Ward Meachum. If he took a break, Sierra would be compelled to follow his example.

And this first stop of relaxation had to include some companions for two reasons, in his belief: they deserved to feel some real living without the worries of their day to day service to their respective communities and of course, he needed witnesses for the brave step he planned on taking in the relationship with Sierra.

Everyone knew exactly what Danny had been carrying in his pocket for months, even the woman herself, but none dared tear down his conceived idea that he was being discreet about this. 

Mr. Rand didn't want the publicity of getting engaged. It would have probably done well for his company's image if he bent the knee while cameras were watching, but the matters of the heart had to be handled for the soul, not for the physical body for them to reflect even a fragment of their true value.

A physical body's pleasure was to pick Sierra up and carry her down the hallway though, even as they waved their friends to their rooms. "The greatest sorceress alive and she still gets sore feet from hiking," he sang a nuzzled kiss on her cheek.

"Still not a mountain goat like yourself," Sierra's nose scrunched up with her smile, nothing but a side effect to his loving gestures. She was long past shyness that she had to be carried for a while, on their way to the hotel, and she sure as heck had no shame in her tired bones to let the happiness be her blanket and find comfort in laying her head on his shoulder.

From there, she looked up at Danny and decided to bring her hand up, brush away some of the dust and little leaves trapped in his curls from their first day adventures on the island. He chuckled at their 'goatly' inside joke and Sierra felt the vibrations of the most beautiful sound she knew translating to her heart that the symphony of love was playing.

"We should get a shower," her breath hit his neck's skin and most amusingly, his shiver created goosebumps just as his hand passed the card over the room's lock scanner. Given a green light, Danny pushed the door open with his foot and walked in the room daring himself to look down at her and not get blinded by everything good she meant to him.

"We...," he repeated, cheekily hopeful. "As in together?"

"It is a holiday, after all," Sierra trailed her hand through his hair. 

She missed him, she missed them like this. And she hated that despite everything they've been through, there will always be more work to do for people like them. The fact that they've always pushed themselves to their very limits did not mean the world would cease needing saving, that Danny would ever stop being an Immortal Weapon or that her advances into the arcane would not bring with themselves the consequence of responsibility.

But just then, that first night in Tahiti, was a slice of heaven carved into reality just for her. 

It was peace and safety after a couple of months which felt like hell. 

Sierra fell asleep in his arms, feeling the warm breeze and hearing the distant sound of waves and this made seeing too many of the Multiversal horrors worth it. This was making her remember there was still a reason for her to be brave and he was right there, existing as her home.

The deafened sound of a hit stole the comforting waves away from her. It replaced warmth with crippling cold and the fluff of Danny's arm for a pillow with an ache and hard concrete.

Sierra hit her head on the floor.

Did I just fall out of bed? She found herself wondering, only half conscious between the grunts of pain and definitely not yet awake enough to feel dumb for managing to roll out of that bed. Her right palm spread itself to feel the ground, to prop herself up to stand, while the left tapped rather gently on the place where she hit her head.

Pain has never been Sierra's favorite companion. A single tap sent a jolt of it through her body, waking the senses up with the alert that the unfriendly sensation of what she disliked returned. One sensation caught her interest in particular: her thumbs felt stone underneath her and her thin nightgown.

Her green eyes opened and the darkness she gazed upon was not the one she expected. 

She didn't fall off the bed... In fact, she was no longer in the room and certainly not in Tahiti anymore. Sierra recognized the place she woke up into and the very chill of it forced her to scramble on her feet and hug herself.

K'un-Zi's library, she named the place in her mind. The dimension of dark sorcerers has been closed and under the protection of the other Capital Cities of Heaven since Master Crane's banishment, the spell she had jeopardized the sanctity of the Multiverse for. Those five years with that darker version of her friend, Stephen Strange, spoke for themselves in her upbringing around magic and in the depth of her nightmares.

"How did I get here?" she mumbled out loud, stealing a glance down at her shivering hands and realizing that her sling ring was not even on. A better question sneaked into her mind, fighting freezing to death in the midst of the library solely filled with dark magic knowledge, How will I get back to Danny?

The just questions should have included why at that moment, but last she's been in this library, Sierra was desperate enough to learn how to help from just about any source. That desperation was not present anymore, thankfully, and she did not want to be there.

But before she could even consider heading towards the exit of the library and hope to find the guard on duty, who might recognize her and help, a strangely familiar voice echoed her question back in irony. "How did you get here, indeed?"

Memories clicked back to Sierra in an instant. Oh, the perks of a good memory...

"Agatha Harkness," she breathed out right before turning around, shocked. A much older version of the powerful witch she had to take down in order to help Wendy and Peter the best she could before healing the cracks in their side of the Multiverse, stood now before her, holding a book she stole from that library by the strands of her dark magic, glowing purple through the obscure darkness around them.

While Sierra wore white, standing out like a white stag in an autumnal scenery, Agatha blended almost entirely into the library's shade, thanks to the hood covering the grayness of her curled hair. That purple glow, manipulating pages into turning slowly, revealed plenty: the coal stain on the witch's fingers, her wicked grin and even the nature of the book she brought out of the chained depths of the K'un-Zi library.

That last detail made Sierra's eyes narrow. That was a book she turned away during Master Crane's assault on the Capital Cities of Heaven, in her most desperate hour.

"You seem to be familiar with my name, but do I know yours?" Agatha hummed lowly.

"You're not supposed to be here," Sierra fixed the witch under her gaze and knew she would not be able to look away. She had to be certain to handle this diplomatically fast. The Darkhold was no book to find itself in just about anyone's hands and if she learnt anything from traveling the Multiverse was that certain individuals should never be trusted. Agatha was one of them.

"I think I do know your name," Agatha continued, sheepishly. "You seem to recognize this book after all," she turned the Darkhold around so Sierra could see its wretched cover, soaked in the influence of the demonic God who wrote, as well as the perversion of all its followers which came after. If she looked at it for long enough, she knew she could almost feel the despair that book was capable of causing, so she fought the urge and averted her eyes.

"It's not a very friendly read," Sierra's tone was a warning, the determination in her eyes to not leave Agatha out of sight was a threat.

But the witch was older and wiser. She was there with a mission in her mind and there would be no one standing between her and what she wants.

"You didn't read it yet," Agatha concluded, perhaps even a nuance amused to have figured this much out already. "But it's calling on you, isn't it? You are the Queen of Chaos after all."

"I'm the Guiding Light," Sierra corrected her in a heartbeat.

"The Darkhold's summoning spells say otherwise. I called forth the Queen of Chaos and there she is-"

"Alright, that's enough."

Sierra's hands joined in front of herself. The tip of the ring finger of each hand brought their touch to the tip of the thumb. The rest of the fingers, pointing away, formed Prithvi mudra and activated the Earth element through Eldritch magic. Only Sierra's form of Eldritch magic did not glow like earthly fire, but rather shone as the pure white light in the depictions of the end.

Those tunnels of light spurred into straight grasps, digging into the ground behind her and picking up two boulders of concrete. Craters stood behind as witnesses to her attack of tossing the two spellbound rocks at a manically laughing witch.

"You desecrate your status by performing these lower forms of magic, my dear..."

Agatha did not retaliate. She didn't even consider moving an inch out of the way. Instead, she waited for the stones to hit her, because she appreciated that the witch scared to look at the Darkhold did not have it in her yet to kill, no matter how strong she may have been.

Her appreciation was correct.

Sierra lowered her left hand and her right changed form. The tips of her ring and little fingers came towards her thumb and chi flowed through her directly flaring out so that when the dust from the impact spread all across the library, she activated the particles of light amongst them. Their Brownian motion paused and the brightness grew.

Her hand turned into a fist. The dust followed her command in bringing every single particle to rearrange and turn into a net prison. Around each node, white magic glowed runes, trapping the witch just about tight enough to release that book, but not tight enough to leave a mark as well. 

No matter how untrustworthy Agatha proved to be in the whole wide Multiverse, Sierra did not want to make the mistake of assuming too much about this old woman in her own world.

"Impressive," Agatha laughed while the Darkhold slid away from her, still open on the page depicting the legend of the fall of a witch in scarlet and the rise of the witch ruling over in menacing light. "For defensive magic," she completed with a grin. Her chin lifted and Agatha turned completely into violet smoke.

Sierra felt the shift in the air still purged in dust enhanced by her Chi.

Agatha appeared behind Sierra, raised her right hand and prepared a flicker of dark violet to manipulate through the young witch's temple. Before any strange magic could impair her, Sierra turned into a tunnel of light, through which speed, she phased out of existence and teleported between the dust's shine until she was facing Agatha again. The Darkhold was exactly in the middle of the distance between them.

Since it remained open, Sierra's instinct to look after the faint sound of a murmur calling her name had her glimpse at the insides of that book, at the page with the summoning spell Agatha Harkness performed apparently to get her there, in a pocket dimension, all the way from Tahiti.

One look, one small little peek was enough to cut Sierra's breath short, turn the rhythm of her lungs rapid, break her heart into desperation and her mind into a narrow focus. She's only ever felt this tearing sensation within her when she was faced with the Reality Stone within her grasp. Then, like now, some inert feeling tried to tell her she should be selfish about certain things in life, and that it was her right to claim them back, even though, to her knowledge, they never belonged to her in the first place.

Did they...?

However, now, unlike back when the fate of the Infinity Stones was decided, Sierra had the benefit of a lengthy training in meditations with Danny and Master Zhihao in K'un-Lun, she had the experience of three wars behind herself, growing her patience and her self control. A deep breath commenced consciously; she forced herself to calm down.

"It's calling to you," Agatha hummed the same stateemnt. Whether she realized it or not, her voice was Sierra's last needed push to pry her eyes away from the Darkhold. "Did you even know there's a whole chapter in there describing you? I'm not here to anger you, my dear. That would be suicidal. I am here to offer you my guidance in the time you need it most."

Sierra slowly lifted her chin, straightened up, but once Agatha's words got bolder through the silence, she cut her off swiftly by raising her right hand. Light forced chains erupting from the ground underneath the dark book, slamming it shut then flying it in the direction in which Sierra' moved her hand. "Thanks, but I am still not interested in chaos magic. Never will."

Agatha sighed, looking after the book. "I am an old woman. Do you even know how hard that was to get in the first place?" she complained, but her grumble lasted for only as long as it took her to gather a dark orb in the vicinity of her right palm, launching the dark fiery attack at Sierra.

Her right hand was busy, directing the book away, keeping her chains alive miles from their fight so that the Darkhold would be safe. It was her left hand reacting to Agatha.

It lifted and met the attack with a shield, flaring it out of the ground right in front of her and exploding in a luminescence so bright that Agatha's eyes stung and her fingers burned, the shadows of corruption disappearing and turning into ash, then nothingness.

She stumbled back at but a taste of the "defensive" power Sierra harnessed.

The purely white gleam, a primary state of blaze, lowered its strength steadily, with Sierra's hand being brought down. But the fight was over. Not because Agatha wouldn't have wanted to fight back, but because steps were heard down the hallway: the guardian left to protect the library finally realized intruders jeopardized the world by being there.

Duty no longer linked her to that place and just one blink made Sierra open her eyes to a completely different place. Her brain's balance was thrown off, because now she was laying on her back again. Reality shifted for her as if she was on a boat, rocked by the sea of space from side to side.

She had returned to Tahiti, in the warmth of comforting sheets, with Danny's heartbeat to her left and the waves to her right.

Turning on her left side was her one and only conscious choice to make. She was seeking the comfort of ignorance, in dismissing everything for a bad dream and returning to him and this ethereal holiday. 

However, shifting caused something heavy to fall off her lap and into the space between her and Danny. Sierra looked down, confused, but her heart had anticipated the shock with an ache a second before she distinguished the burning aura of the Darkhold. 

It was there, physically with her, not locked in the pocket dimension where it should have remained.

"NO!" 

Minding herself and her tone was out of question. Bright white magic chained the book again and Sierra stormed out of bed, towards the closet where, without any surprise, only rage, she found her Dark Cloak, trying to hide. "No," she repeated the denial to him, slammed the book in there without even touching it and when the cloak tried to lunge forward, towards her, Sierra closed the wardrobe.

"Sigillum. Sera. Carcere." An incantation cascaded off her lips in an echoed chamber of whispers.

"Sierra?" Danny was already on his feet, confused and standing by their bed. Instinct had clenched his fists, ready to summon Chi if need be.

Flinching around, one look in his eyes already told her that this was a discussion they ought to have now, while her body still ached the shivers of peer pressure, even if time told them the sunrise was an hour away from even considering shining over the horizon line, otherwise a distant peace. That sunrise found them at a round table for two, on creaking chairs braided out of thinly cut, sturdy wood.

"How did the Cloak even get here?" Danny sighed out, at the end of the lengthy tale Sierra told him of the havoc the first night of their holiday brought to her. 

The frown on his face was not for their early rise -K'un-Lun had him wake up even earlier during his training years and without the luxury of a coffee steaming under his nose, on an elegant glass table-, not even for the nightmare she was living on their break -because that was hardly her fault. No, the frown was there as a consequence to sensing the unfairness of things.

"He's getting stronger," Sierra admitted. Under the table, her hands grasped the edge of her own seat. Without even considering drinking her coffee, she stared at the beige foam above it. "I've felt it for a while now, but the Multiverse battles I needed the Cloak in have thinned my spells' efficiency in keeping him fully contained."

"Will the wardrobe keep him locked?"

"For now..."

"And this... Darkhold," Danny leant back in his seat. His worry was transcending through so that she didn't even have to look at him to know there was concern and care which he eluded. "Sierra," he sighed out, "why are you refusing to learn Chaos Magic?"

His relaxed question was a sting into her heart. Sierra lifted her gaze, utterly confused, perhaps even disarmed by this situation of lonesome despair she found herself into.

"I understand why the Darkhold is dangerous and it is outrageous that the other-worldly Strange and this Agatha of ours try to force you to get corrupted by that demonic darkness, but he did say you're capable of harnessing Chaos Magic. I've seen you excel in every single type of magic you've put your mind to-"

"It's chaos magic," Sierra interrupted him. A simple glimpse into the depths of his blue eyes guessed the nobility and good will behind Danny's rather absent words. She couldn't blame him for not knowing and no matter how much she told him about her time with the corrupted Stephen Strange, the training, the bargain, the turning-him-into-her-cloak-to-smuggle-him-into-their-universe part... Danny could use some more of what she had learnt about the grander scheme of things.

So she sighed, finally leaning back, "It's not like other magic types. Chaos magic manipulates and reconstructs the fabric of reality by the whims of its user. I tampered with it, that's true, it's why the other Stephen dares insist so strongly... He claims he's always seen the potential in me, that my inclination towards Chaos Magic was what convinced him to train me in the first place."

Danny listened, patiently and grateful with every fiber that Sierra took her time to communicate and let him in on these things. He would never want her to fight this alone. 

Part of him still felt the guilt... Had he been less reckless during the Championship, then perhaps he wouldn't have needed Sierra to step in and save them from Master Crane's wrath. Perhaps she wouldn't have been required to take this path of mysticism... A path she didn't even want initially.

"With Chaos Magic, imagination becomes the enemy," her eyes grew a shadow of their own. The beautiful green of her eyes caught depth and fell into an ocean of too much knowledge. Her gaze unfocused so she could dissociate from the horror she recalled. 

"Structure disappears," she described numbly. "Reality, eventually, as you know it, starts to slip away." A blink brought some accent back to her quiet words, "I do not want to become a prisoner of reality, Danny. Chaos Magic terrifies me because even a single wrong thought can turn me into my father just like that." She snapped her fingers and Danny's flinch was constrained to just a sharp inhale.

"Alright," Mr. Rand nodded. 

He leant forward, his hand reached out and Sierra's fell into the attraction, allowing him to hold her in warmth. "No Chaos Magic then." It broke his heart how relieved she sounded through her sigh. "I would never force you down a path you do not want Sierra and if they try to compel you at the cost of your sanity, then they'll simply have to face the wrath of K'un-Lun rain on them too."

Her condescending sadness turned into a chuckle at his vows.

"There," Danny smiled, squeezing her hand ever so lightly. "Keep that laughter."

"Might need something stronger than a coffee today for that." Side eyeing her untouched coffee, Danny got the hint and grinned.

"Well, it is our holiday, so why not?" 

A drink to start the day seemed rather fitting after all, considering the grand plans he had for that night, plans which weighed his pocket heavily and started shivering in the face of possible danger following the love of his life. He'd willingly put a ring on her, even if she came with Armageddon as a promise.

Across at least half an ocean, time zones away and a few hours past, in the heart of New York City, The Magician's show dropped the news which started the storm of the reporters she, herself invited. 

Marion hoped to catch Stephen's gaze when the news of the engagement were revealed on stage and he was made part of this madness about to shockwave consequences to the life of a friend he admired, but the man refused to look at her. His disapproval mixed with disappointment, with rage and with worry. 

These acts were getting personal and Dr. Strange cursed himself under his breath for lowering his guard just because Marion Hall was "interesting". She attacked the public images and lives of Wendy, Peter, and now Sierra and Danny too. Even if he liked it or not, Marion Hall was a threat. 

So he stormed off stage, throwing his Joker card and the paper with his letter on the stage. A hand released the scarf from around his neck and the charm vanished gradually, turning the material back into the original cloak, which, in a spin, changed his clothes to those he wore usually, as Sorcerer Supreme, for the comfort of repetition.

His sling ring appeared back on his hand and though he seemed to walk straight for the reporters, Stephen pointed his hands forward to open a portal, get to Sierra Harss before the news get to her altered in God knows what way. 

Before his hands even formed a full circle, a portal opened under him and he fell through the floor, right into a room warmly lit in auburn and comfort by a crackling fireplace. There were windows, but nothing could be seen outside through them. 

"Marion!" Stephen called, angered.

"No need to be so loud," she answered calmly from one of the two armchairs facing the fireplace, somewhere behind him. Resting against the side of her armchair was her "wand" a staff of mystical abilities. Marion turned her head to the side and smiled at the tense man. "No one can hear us here. We're backstage, sweetie."

author's note:    THE POETRYY OF THIS CHAPTER HAVING SUBTLE HINTSSS
like the Darkhold coming between Sierra and Danny when she returned from K'un-Zi...
OR Agatha low-key wanting to warn her about Marion's meddling while also saying yhat Marion was playing dangerously for wanting to anger Sierra gahhhh

and because it was hella therapeutic to write my babies again, here's a gif set with a Sierra quote from this chapter:

& yes, the beginning manip is Sierra and this unoverse's Agatha Harkness