Chapter Three

Lysandra 

Lysandra's eyes fluttered open to a cacophony of agony, her head pulsating with the ferocity of a thousand stampeding bulls. She groaned and feebly attempted to push herself upright, only to be met with a gentle but firm hand pressing into her shoulder. The tender touch was accompanied by a soothing male voice, which seemed to resonate from the very fabric of the room.

"Easy there," the voice advised, a hint of concern lacing its gentle timbre. "Don't move too suddenly. You've got stitches that need to stay put, okay?"

Her vision blurry and her mind swimming in a sea of confusion, Lysandra slowly focused on the face above hers. It was a face she had never seen before, one that bore a warm smile and a pair of piercing, yet comforting eyes. His dark hair was unkempt, as if he had been rushing to her side, and his purple shirt was a stark contrast to the stark white medical garb he was wearing.

"I'm Bruce Banner," he introduced himself, speaking with a softness that suggested he didn't wish to startle her further. "And I'm a doctor here to help you. Can you tell me your name?"

Her throat parched and her voice barely audible, she managed to croak out a response. "Lysandra. Where am I?"

"You're safe on Earth, Lysandra," Bruce assured her, his words as comforting as a warm embrace.

Her eyes searched the unfamiliar surroundings, taking in the medical equipment that hummed with life and the pristine white walls that seemed to stretch infinitely around her. The scent of antiseptic filled her nostrils, a stark reminder of her vulnerable state.

As Bruce stepped aside, the door to the room swung open with a smooth, silent grace, revealing a man whose very presence seemed to command the air around him. His attire was sharp and impeccable, a white suit that gleamed with the confidence of one who owned the world. His glasses were perched on the bridge of his nose, and his eyes, though hidden behind the reflective lenses, were sharp and focused on her.

"I'm Tony Stark," he announced, his voice a blend of arrogance and curiosity. "And I must admit, we're all a bit surprised to find you falling from the sky. It's not exactly a typical Tuesday around here."

Panic began to set in as Lysandra took stock of herself. Her usual traveling garb had been replaced by a soft, yet utterly alien, gown. Her precious stahcle, the lifeblood of her quest and the last vestige of her home, was nowhere to be seen.

Her eyes grew wide with fear, scanning the room frantically. The stahcle was essential to her, a symbol of hope amidst the chaos that had driven her through the mysterious portal. It was a woven tapestry of a material that shimmered with an ethereal light, a substance that could only be found in the enchanted forests of Aetheria. Without it, she felt lost, adrift in a sea of unknowable technology and strange faces.

Her gaze finally fell upon the stahcle, resting innocently on a nearby table. The sight of it brought a rush of relief that flooded through her body, momentarily washing away the pain. With trembling hands, she reached for it, her heart pounding in her chest.

Tony Stark observed her reaction with a smirk, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Is this what you're looking for?" He picked up the stahcle, holding it out to her with a casual flair that suggested he knew exactly how much it meant to her.

Gratefully, Lysandra took the stahcle, clutching it to her chest as if it were a lifeline. She felt a semblance of comfort return as the warmth of the fabric seeped into her skin.

"Thanks," she murmured, her voice filled with emotion.

"Now, Lysandra, darling, spill the tea. Why'd you decide to make such a dramatic entrance?" Tony's tone was light, but there was an underlying seriousness that suggested he was all too aware of the gravity of the situation.

Her heart racing, she searched for the words to explain the unexplainable. "I—I'm not entirely sure. One moment I was in Aetheria, the next, everything went dark. It's as if I crossed some kind of threshold without meaning to."

The mention of Aetheria brought a furrow to Bruce's brow. "Another realm?" he inquired, his curiosity piqued.

"Yes," she confirmed, her voice trembling with the weight of her home's fate. "It's where I'm from. A place of magic and beauty, but lately, it's been plagued by shadows and turmoil. I was seeking a solution, a way to save my people, when I ended up here, on this world you call Earth."

Tony's smile grew, though his eyes remained sharp with intrigue. "And what's Aetheria been dealing with, exactly? I'm sure you've got quite the tale to tell, Your Highness."

Despite his sarcastic tone, Lysandra knew he was genuinely interested. With a deep breath, she recounted the horrors that had besieged her kingdom—the spreading darkness, the failing crops, the fear that gripped the hearts of her people. She spoke of her journey to find the legendary stahcle, and her desperate leap through the cosmos in hopes of finding aid.

As she spoke, Bruce and Tony exchanged knowing looks, the gravity of her words etched into their expressions. It was clear that her story was unlike anything they had ever heard.

"Well, you're in for a treat, darling. We've got a little shindig planned for later that I think you're gonna love. It's a bit of a departure from your usual royal banquets, though," Tony said, his grin never leaving his face.

"Tony, now's not the time for jokes," Bruce admonished gently, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

"But seriously, you're our guest, Lysandra. We're here to help you, but we need to understand what we're dealing with. You're not going anywhere until we know you're safe and sound," Bruce said, his expression earnest.

The mention of the party only served to highlight the stark contrast between her world and the one she had stumbled into. The thought of mingling with these strangers in their alien customs was both terrifying and exhilarating.

"Fine," she conceded, her voice stronger now. "I'll tell you everything I know. But first, I need to rest and eat. I haven't had anything since—since I was in Aetheria."

Tony nodded, his smile slipping away into a more business-like demeanor. "Bruce, get her cleaned up and fed. I'll have Helen take care of the rest. And, Lysandra, don't worry. You're going to fit in just fine around here. You've got a bit of a story to tell, and we're all ears." With that, he spun on his heel and exited the room, leaving a trail of unanswered questions in his wake.

The silence that followed was filled with an awkward tension that even Bruce's gentle demeanor couldn't quite dissolve. He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "That's Tony for you. Always jumping from one thing to the next. But he's got a heart of gold, really."

Lysandra couldn't help but feel a smirk tug at her lips. The dynamic between the two men was as intriguing as the world she found herself in.

"So, what's on the menu?" she asked, attempting to lighten the atmosphere.

Bruce's smile grew. "You'd be surprised. Tony's got a bit of a burger obsession, but we've got a whole range of options. Just wait until you see what the team can whip up. It's definitely not what you're used to at the royal table, but I promise you, it's good eating. Now, let's get you dressed and fed. Then we can get to the bottom of this interdimensional kerfuffle you've gotten yourself into."

Her spirits slightly lifted by the prospect of food and company, Lysandra allowed Bruce to help her to her feet. As she took in the unfamiliar clothing laid out for her, she felt the first glimmer of hope that this new world might hold more for her than she had ever dared to dream.