Selkies are shapeshifters from old Celtic and Norse folklore they are seals in the water, humans on land. Their magic is bound to their coats, the pelts they shed when they come ashore. Without it, they can't return to the sea, and whoever holds it has power over them. But there's another law, older and quieter: when a selkie's coat is returned freely, with no demand in exchange, it is no longer ownership- it is union. A vow. To a selkie, it is marriage in its purest form.

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Tony Stark's dinner parties were usually chaos- glamour, sarcasm, a bit of near disaster mixed in. Everyone had split off into their own little tables, laughter echoing through the room. You had chosen one a little closer to the center, your jacket carelessly slung over the chair behind you.

Stephen Strange- poised, sharp, and every bit as aloof as you'd expect passed by on his way to sit down. As he did, his hand brushed the back of your chair. He paused, noting the coat had slipped off. With a flicker of gentlemanly instinct, he lifted it and held it out toward you.

"Sorry,"

He said, voice smooth, polite but detached,

"I believe your coat fell."

You stared at him, blank. Blank because he had no idea what he had just done.

For humans, it was a small act of courtesy. For selkies... returning a coat was sacred. A binding. In your world's standards, Stephen Strange had just claimed you- marriage sealed with the simple act of giving back what had been lost. Your heart stuttered in your chest, a mix of panic and awe.

But you'd been in your human skin so long, you knew you couldn't just rely on selkie law. No, you had to see this through the human way, too. You had to know who this man was. And Stephen, for all his mystery and arrogance, had unknowingly stepped into a vow that was already written into your bones.