Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel Comics trademarks or any of its related characters. This is just for my own enjoyment and the potential enjoyment of other comic junkies like me, and no monetary gain was expected or received.

Rating: T+

Chapter Three: Sanctum

When Thor informed his brother, in tones of no uncertainty, that they were moving into the Sanctum with Doctor Strange for the foreseeable future, Loki, predictably, pitched a royal fit.

"I'm fine, brother. I don't need to be nursemaided. Least of all by an amateur sorcerer from a lesser realm," she said. "If he thinks I need his precious medical care, he can make bloody house calls. We're only as far away as Norway, after all."

"It's not that simple, brother," Thor said, putting him in a headlock. "Now come along and be a good boy, capisce?"

"Are you trying to sound like a human? You're doing badly. The proper use of the term in this instance is 'capito,' you cyclopean ignoramus," Loki said in a choked voice as she tried to pull her brother's arm off her throat. "You hang out with too many Americans."

"Just… come along, Loki," Thor said, and raised Stormbringer. A flash of lightning, and they were gone.

They reappeared on Bleeker Street, in front of the hidden Sanctum. Thor released his chokehold and Loki stepped away from him, smoothing her coat and wrinkling her lip at the gothic edifice. "What an ugly, ugly dwelling," she said. "You'd think it'd have some style."

"It's better on the inside," Thor said.

"It would almost have to be," Loki said. "On the outside it's one scant step up from a soggy cardboard box."

Thor kicked her. The front door opened. Wong stepped out. "Get in here," he said. He sounded cross. The brothers entered, Thor leading Loki on with a hand on the back of her neck. Whatever the building appeared to be on the outside, the inside was stately and elegant in an old-fashioned manner. It clearly didn't meet Loki's high standards.

"Wood paneling. So gauche," she said, sneering. "It's darker than a coal miner's lungs in here."

"Human decorative preferences aren't Asgardian decorative preferences," Thor said. "It's very nice in here."

"If you like funeral parlors. Where's the casket? Who's the guest of honor?"

"That would be you, Loki, and you'll be in a casket directly if you don't settle down," Doctor Strange's voice came floating down over the banisters to them from somewhere on the floor above.

"Oh, stuff and nonsense, I am perfectly healthy," Loki growled.

"That's why you can't maintain a white god's flesh tone right now, I suppose? Or is the blue face a choice you're making?" Stephen asked, coming down the curved stairs towards them. "Not that you shouldn't be your true self, mind, but you haven't heretofore, so I am curious."

"It has never been natural for me to appear in blue face, thank you very much, before you go making insinuations on me hiding 'my true self,'" Loki said. "I don't know how, or why, but 'white god' is my natural form. Odin perhaps had something to do with that. I didn't."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say you were ashamed of your race."

"Well, then don't speak like you're saying it. The truth of the matter is… I barely know anything about frost giants. I don't feel much for them one way or the other. They have a brutal history, what I've seen of it. Just like Asgardians. They're simply less successful."

"They're your people," Stephen said.

"No, they're not," Loki said. "My 'father' was ashamed to claim me because I was small. If I had lived among them that would have been my entire life: height shaming. Asgardians don't pick on me for that, at least."

"We don't pick on you at all," Thor said.

"Oh?" Loki said, and suddenly there were nine of her, squared off in groups of three, dancing in circles. "All around the mulberry bush, the monkey chased the Loki… the monkey thought 'twas all in fun… POP goes the Loki!"

"Childhood shenanigans, brother. 'Twas all meaningless," Thor said.

The Lokis changed directions and kept dancing. "Loki's britches falling down, falling down, falling down! Loki's britches falling down, my fair lady!"

Thor repressed a chortle. "Aw'right, yeah, pulling your drawers down was mean-spirited, I grant you…"

"When I was an adolescent. In front of Lady Alyndra. Whom you knew I thought was quite attractive," Loki said, ceasing her dance and reforming into one. "That was worse than mean-spirited childhood shenanigans, brother."

"I was trying to help you! It's not my fault she didn't take an interest!" Thor said.

"Why would she take an interest in a boy being publicly humiliated by his elder sibling? I can do very well without your idea of help, thank you! It's all moot anyway, she prefers women to men in most cases."

"Seeing your pitiful equipment probably made her that way. Maybe she'd go for you now," Thor said.

"Why you -"

"Boys, boys!" Stephen said, putting himself between the gods, "let's not devolve. Loki, on the ship, you called yourself an Odinson again. There's a reason for that, right? And that reason is that Thor is your true brother, right?"

Loki looked away, scowling, but slowly nodded. "Thor," Stephen said, "the last words you said to Loki before he died were that he was the worst. I bet you wish you could change that, don't you?" Thor's eye widened, and he nodded, too. "Come on. You're immortals, you've got a lot of past history, but it's past. Examine it later, but put it behind you for right now. Just… forgive? And move on."

Loki didn't look entirely prepared, but Thor swept her up in a huge, bonecrushing hug. "I'm sorry, brother. For every ill I've done you, I'm sorry."

"Get off me, you lugubrious armadillo."

Stephen stared hard at Loki, though with no real expression on his face. "Wong, could you please show Thor to his rooms? I'd like a chance to speak to Loki alone."

"Sure, sure. I'll shine your shoes and polish your tea service, too, while I'm at it," Wong said, but he showed Thor down the halls and out of sight.

"Your manservant is angry with you," Loki said.

"He's not my manservant, he's my friend," Stephen said. "And… yes, he is still peeved because of the possession. It's a highly uncomfortable experience. Which is why I still hold strong reservations regarding your experiment with the Avengers."

"The containment chip doesn't allow full possession of a souled vessel," Loki said in exasperation. "It's a touch, nothing more."

Stephen held up his hands. "All right. But that's not really what I want to talk to you about. Please, step into the parlor with me."

"'Come step into my parlor, said the spider to the fly…'" Loki said, but followed him inside. "What do you want?"

"Please, sit," Stephen said, gesturing to a chair.

"And if I do not?" Loki said.

"It's up to you, but you'll be more comfortable seated," Stephen said. "I just wanted to talk to you for a moment about… Thor. He teased you, as a child. I know how bad that can feel. Still, I don't see that as a reason to want to kill him. Is there anything you haven't said?"

"We teased each other," Loki sighed, falling so heavily into a wingback armchair that the legs cracked. "I gave as good as I got, within the limitations I was granted."

"So what, then?"

"I was only allowed so much latitude. Whereas Thor was given free rein. Can you even begin to imagine what's it's like to live every day when your older brother's favorite game is 'How High Can Loki Fly?' Pretty damned high, at times, until I learned how to levitate and counterbalance the momentum."

"How High Can Loki Fly…?" Stephen asked.

"When he struck me with a lightning bolt," Loki said.

"I can hardly imagine that of Thor," Stephen said. "He's always seemed so… nice."

"He is nice," Loki said. "That's the blackest part of the whole thing. It's only with me that he was ever like that, and that's because he was taught to be that way with me. By our father. And the worst of it was, I never even questioned that it should be so. Because father taught me my place so very well."

"I can see why you'd be conflicted," Stephen said. "You do know your brother loves you, right?"

"I do. He even stopped treating me like shit, somewhere along the way. And for some reason… that just made me hate him more. He got all the good attention, all the praise and glory, and… when he would hurt me, it would make me think he was an asshole… but when he started to be good to me… it just showed me that he deserved all the praise… and I probably really was as low as they always made me feel."

"Your father abused you," Stephen said. "Worse. He got your brother to do it for him. I'm sure Thor realizes it now. It probably hurts him to know that almost as much as the fact of it hurt you. And I'd bet it confuses him. The father who loved him, whom he loved so dearly… who said he loved you, too… being so vicious."

"What do you care?" Loki said.

"Firstly, Thor… and yourself… are gods, with unprecedented power. I am what amounts to this realm's Sorcerer Supreme for the time being, and since you're living in this realm now, that brings you under my jurisdiction. To keep the peace, I need to keep the two of you from each other's throats. Thor doesn't want to fight you, but you remain a wild card."

"I don't want to fight my brother any longer," Loki said quietly.

"But you're still angry with him, and that anger could rise up unexpectedly and you could lash out," Stephen said. "I can't let that happen, Loki. Not in an uncontrolled environment. You're too dangerous."

"So am I to be bound and gagged again?" Loki demanded.

"No. But I might suggest a course of family therapy."

Loki was aghast. "You - you're going to analyze me?"

Stephen shook his head. "I'm a neurologist, not a psychologist. I wouldn't know how to handle it. But someone must have survived the Snap who can help."

"You want my brother and I to air our dirty laundry… talk about our feelings… before a stranger?"

"Or you could just talk to each other for once and for all. Here at the Sanctum, where it's reasonably safe. Tell Thor what you need him to hear. How you really feel, and why. Give him a chance to say what he needs to say."

Loki's mouth opened and closed several times, like a landed fish gasping for water. "What an insufferable bunch of pansy-assedness!" he declared at last.

"It's that, or bound and gagged. I don't want to do it, but you have to understand, you have shown yourself to be more powerful than Thor claimed you were. More powerful than I gathered you were when you tried to take over New York. You're probably far more powerful than I am, and you're a tricky sonofabitch. For the sake of world peace, I would have no choice."

Loki settled back in her chair and stared hard at Stephen for a long moment. "And you would trust this 'tricky sonofabitch' if I did… talk… with Thor?"

"…To an extent. Not to the extent that I would let you out of my sight, but to an extent."

"Do you think my brother would approve of you keeping me locked away here?"

"He doesn't trust you, either, Loki. A mistrust you brought upon yourself."

"Not entirely," Loki grumbled.

"I beg your pardon?" Stephen said.

"I said not entirely," Loki said more clearly. "Odin branded me 'God of Mischief and Deceit' before I assayed my first words. Even when I told the truth, everyone believed I was lying."

"Well, I believe you," Stephen said. "You're telling the truth."

"And how do you know?" Loki said.

Stephen brought out a shining orb from the desk drawer in front of him. "Do you know what this is?"

"No clue. But I'd bet you're going to tell me."

"This the Orb of Agamatto. It… discerns truth. And leads you to it. Supposedly, even a god of lies and trickery can't foil it. And it's been telling me that what you're saying is true."

"Ah. A few tricks of your own, I see."

"I was a Boy Scout, once upon a time. Our motto is, 'Be Prepared.'"

"So what do you intend to do about it?" Loki asked. "This… truth? True or false, I've done enough evil to deserve all the opprobrium that is heaped upon me. That was my choice, I made it freely."

"Not entirely."

"Hmm?"

"You were influenced, weren't you, when you tried to conquer New York. Thanos."

"You know about that."

"I don't know how he got to you, or what he did, but yes, I know he held sway over you. To some extent."

Loki stood up and paced. "I didn't want to do it. I've done a lot of really bad things that I really wanted to do, but not that."

"I believe you."

"I'm not real big into the slaughter of innocents thing," Loki said, running her hands through her hair. "I just mostly want attention."

"I believe you."

"I never would have executed a plan so wantonly destructive as to -"

"Loki - I believe you."

Loki stopped, looked at Stephen, and collapsed back into the broken chair. The backrest broke halfway off from the seat. "Thank you."

A pudgy basset hound waddled in and sat down between them and scratched its ear with a hindleg. "What's all the hubbub, Doc?" it asked. "Who's the lady? New girlfriend?"

"You have a talking dog," Loki said.

"Not exactly. He doesn't 'talk,' you're just understanding Dog. I put a translation spell on him," Stephen said, clearly embarrassed. "Since the Snap, there's a lot of ownerless animals wandering the city. Bats happened by one day and he and I kind of hit it off."

Loki's green eyes turned into hundred karat emeralds as they widened in comic surprise. "Bats?"

"He does not speak on his past much - I gather that it's painful to him - but I believe he may have associated with a young person. A child, perhaps. That may account for the name."

"He doesn't seem at all surprised that you're you. Doesn't he only know you as Wong?" Loki said.

"This is true. Bats, how do you know who I am?" Stephen asked.

"I'm not stupid, I can tell people apart by more than just their smell," the dog said. "Funny how new you smell, though. Not just a different person, but a new person. Brand-new, new born. That's weird."

"Loki here is responsible for that. He saved my life, and the lives of my friends. He gave me back a proper body for my soul to inhabit."

"Ah, Doc… that's a woman. Even a dog knows a woman when he smells one," the dog said.

"It's complicated, Bats."

"Why does she smell like the inside of a dead snake?" Bats asked.

"Ah. Yes. I… neglected to bathe…" Loki said. It was clearly her turn to be embarrassed. "I didn't think it was noticeable."

"I'm a dog, toots," Bats said. "A scent hound."

Loki started up from the chair. "And I am Loki, son of Odin, Prince of Asgard, rightful King of Jotunheim, and you will not address me as 'toots.'"

"Okay, okay, sheesh. Sorry. I'm just a dog, no need to get all hot under the collar. Get it? Dog?
Collar?"

"That is a horrible joke," Loki said, settling back. "Who writes your material? Albert Barks?"

"Oo, good one. Yours must be written by George Burns."

"You can't light me, doggy, I'm asbestos," Loki said, and lit a flame on her hand with a spell that burned out in short order, leaving her fingers unsinged.

"Cool! You're a wizard, too?" Bats said, falling back on his haunches. "You know, you two should get together. You'd make a good couple."

Loki threw back her head and laughed. Stephen tugged at his collar. "Bats, I left some stew meat in the kitchen for you, if you're hungry…"

"I was just in the kitchen. There wasn't anything there," Bats said.

"It's there now."

"Oh, I get it. Third wheel. I'm going, I'm going." And the dog padded out of the room. Loki watched him go, then looked at Stephen's beet red face and burst out laughing again.


"Would you consider talking to me?" Stephen asked, rather suddenly.

"I thought you said you knew nothing about psychology?" Loki said.

"I don't. But as a friend. You could, I think, use a friend."

"I don't know you, Magician."

"It would be easy enough to get to know me, but even though you're immortal, I confess I don't feel we have much time. If your invention works the way you think it does, Thanos may be on his way. I need everyone at full capacity, and that means you, too. So, let's take a shortcut, shall we?" Stephen made a gesture with his arms and his astral self came forth from his body and entered Loki.

"Hey!" Loki cried out, but it was too late, she was treated to a full crash course of Stephen Strange, his childhood in Nebraska, growing up in a sea of cornfields, his growing adolescent desire to get out and see more of the world than corn, corn, corn, corn, corn. His desire to save lives, and how that longing was eventually overshadowed by his ego and avarice.

"Hm. You're kind of a jerk," Loki said, when Stephen returned to himself.

"Some would say we have that in common," Stephen said.

"I didn't say I didn't like it."

"I'm trying to change this facet of myself."

"So am I, to some extent."

"Good. We can work together."

"Who says I want to work with you?"

"Loki…"

"All right, all right. For now, I will… be your pet project. But don't think I do this for you. It's for that dumb blond I keep trying to kill. If I can get over that feeling, I'll consider it worthwhile."

"That… is what we call growth."

"Are we done? Because I would like to sluice off so I no longer offend your hound."

"I will show you to your room."

"I hope they're less austere than the rest of the house."

"There is nothing austere about the Sanctum," Stephen said.

"It might as well be a prison."

"Oh right, Your Highness. I forgot you were used to solid gold staircases and diamond bedposts."

"Actually, when I lived in Odinhall I slept in the stables. They were still classier than this."

Stephen paused, and chose to let pass what he was going to say. He knew any sympathy he showed would not be well-received at this time. He led Loki through the halls of the Sanctum to a room not far from his own or from the room he'd given to Thor. He wondered a bit at the wisdom in that.

"Here you go. You have your own bath. Dinner is at eight. Otherwise, for now, you're on your own as far as what you want to do with yourself."

"Thank you, Daddy," Loki said.

"Wash. Your hair," Stephen said, and vanished.

Loki turned and entered the room. It was a very nice room, really, traditional Chinese in style from a range of historical periods. And there was a very large bed that looked quite comfortable. Loki took herself to the attached bathroom and filled the clawfoot tub.

It was the first time since her birth that she was naked, and she took the opportunity to look herself over. Not bad, really. A little on the muscular side, perhaps, but maybe that was to be expected - at other times when she'd changed from male to female, she'd always retained some muscularity. At least she'd always been lean, even as a male. Nothing in particular against the look, but she wouldn't want to be the Jennifer Walters type, all beefy and… green. Not that she didn't like green, just not that much.

It was hilarious, really, how confused everyone was. She could tell, even when they weren't saying anything. They didn't know how to deal with her femininity, so they were ignoring it. She'd always been as much female as male, as comfortable in one body as she was in another. Her base form had simply been male, and Odin, of course, had wanted sons. Now her base form was female. It really changed nothing. Once she was strong and this fatigue no longer gripped her, she would have all the same powers she had always had, and would be male or female again at will. Thor seemed to understand.

Which actually pissed her off a bit.

She ducked her head under the water and came up again. This, this was what needed to change. Blaming Thor, hating Thor, for being a good brother. Blaming Thor for the way she was treated as a child. Blaming Thor for getting all the good attention. Blaming Thor for Odin. Hell, maybe it was time to stop blaming Odin for Odin.

Your father abused you. Stephen's words came back to her so clearly that she wasn't sure he wasn't speaking to her telepathically. Thor's game, "How High Can Loki Fly?" wasn't even his own invention. Odin gave it to him. Odin put it in his head to hurt his brother and told him it was just a game. Play. Fun for both of them.

Definitely time to stop blaming Thor.

But how do you let go of that many mortal lifetimes of resentment? Just… let go? Could it be as simple as breathing out?

She gathered all her feelings, drew a deep breath, and let it out slowly. She felt lighter somehow, and for a moment she was almost convinced it worked. Then she felt her feelings settle back down on top of her, heavy as ever. She was twelve hundred and fifty-eight, but those were Asgardian years, and Asgard - True Asgard - operated on a different timescale from Midgard. She had lived with this weight of feeling for more than fifteen million Earth Standard years. Sometimes she just wanted to die and have done with it all. Die for real and finally. But what good really would that do? She would only find herself in Hel or Valhalla, with all eternity ahead of her. All she wanted was oblivion. Mortals did not understand how lucky they were to live brief spans.

She went to bed. At some point during the night, a ghost paid her a visit. Stephen, floating above her in astral form. Did he think himself stealthy? She watched him closely through her dark eyelashes.

He appeared deeply consternated. About what, she honestly had no clue. Then he reached out one ghostly hand and brushed at a strand of damp hair that rested on Loki's cheek.

"I'm sorry for what happened to you in your youth," he said in a quiet voice, pitched almost too low to hear. "I wish I could do something to help you." Then he vanished.

Curiouser and curiouser. Was this merely a healer's empathy? They really didn't know each other at all, their brief one-time meeting before the Snap hadn't been particularly auspicious and had lasted perhaps twenty seconds. Strange knew she was originally male, had seen her that way, but perhaps he hadn't really internalized it. Perhaps he'd taken an interest? A pretty girl with a sad story. It had happened before.

Loki didn't have Heimdall's ability to see all the universe at once, but she was quite an accomplished sorcerer, and that gave her abilities every bit as impressive. She knew things about people they didn't necessarily know she knew. Strange kept his dossier on her? Well, she had a dossier on Strange, and she knew he was a nerd but still a bit of a playboy. It might be fun to play with him for awhile. She snuggled into the thick comforter and fell asleep to sweet dreams of seduction and deceit.