Summary: Read on to discover the true secret behind Loki's extraordinary skill as a shape-shifter. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I own nothing from either fandom, and no profit is made.
Author's Note: Sometimes the universe reveals a parallel that demands further exploration. This is one of those times.
Yzma's Secret Lab and Gift Shoppe
"Loki, darling, how very nice to see you. Do come in."
The younger prince of Asgard inclined his head and returned the greeting with his usual silken charm. "Yzma – a pleasure, as always."
"And what, pray tell, brings you to me today?" Yzma's bony fingers lovingly caressed the side of a large cabinet which housed the majority of her wares – countless vials full of potent magic liquid. Upon purchase, Loki invariably used his particular brand of magic to change the contents from pink to emerald green, his own signature color.
"Are you running low on Extract of Falcon yet?" Yzma pressed her favorite customer. "Or perhaps I might interest you in more Extract of Salmon?"
"Neither, thank you," countered Loki. "What I need from you today is a concoction that will turn me into a mare. A mare specifically, Yzma, not a stallion. And the more beautiful, the better."
"Ah, I see." The spindly old woman rubbed her hands together eagerly. "The change in gender is a tricky business, of course, and the specialized formula is going to cost you extra."
"I am fully prepared to pay, as you well know."
Satisfied with that answer, Yzma continued, "As for beauty, I try to impart some of my inherent loveliness into all my works. But the mare's appearance will be determined mostly by your own looks – and so I dare say you've nothing to worry about."
It took all of Loki's royal upbringing and natural poise not to squirm, especially in light of the cackling which followed the old lady's words. In spite of how often he came to this secret boutique, it truly wasn't one of his preferred places to be. He shuddered to recall the first time he had pulled the "wrong lever" at the entrance – a mistake he never repeated. Still, he really did need that Extract of Mare, which Yzma had mixed and was now packaging for him in a little baggie with pink and purple tissue paper sticking out of the top.
"Here you are, my dear," she all but purred while trading the bag for a generous weight of Asgardian gold. "I'm sure you will put it to good use."
"I hope so," the young sorcerer mused, almost to himself. "I do hope so."
"Are you sure there is nothing else I can do for you as long as you're here?"
"Actually…I think I would also like to buy some Extract of Flea. One of your simpler potions, I know, but it seems the most fitting one with which I can threaten my brother. He has been more aggravating than usual lately."
"A wise choice." Yzma fetched the vial for him. "And if ever you wish to be rid of him entirely for a decade or two, I am always in the market for new…assistant."
Loki smirked without shame. "If you value muscle more than brains in these 'assistants' of yours, then Thor would do very nicely indeed."
He turned to leave, only to halt again at the door's threshold. "Incidentally, Yzma, the first time I tried to use that Extract of Salmon, it turned out to be Extract of Falcon instead. Surely I needn't tell you that bird feathers do not respond well under water."
Yzma crossed her arms, as though daring him to imply that it had somehow been her fault. "As one of my most frequent and valued customers, Loki dear, I would never have expected such a careless mistake on your part."
"Well, in my defense, your potions do all look alike, even to a trained eye like mine. To minimize future confusion, you might want to consider a new system of labelling."
The End – short but sweet!