Light Fills the Vessel

by The Noble Rot

As the relationship between Stephen Strange and his wife Clea breaks down, he finds solace in the most unlikely of places. The head servant of the Sanctum, who has knelt at his feet since she was a child, is no longer a child. She has kept his secrets, accepted his flaws, tended his wounds, calmed his wife, drawn his baths, made his bed...but he has never truly seen her. Until now.

2. Shards in the Heart

Chapter Two: Shards in the Heart

"Don't you ever get tired of winning?" I grumble, reaching out to re-set the chess board. Across from me, looking quite pleased with himself, Master Wong waves a black bishop at me.

"Never. Haven't been playing this game for thirty years just to lose to a little girl."

"Master Wong, I'm twenty!"

"Still a kitten. Even though you act like an old woman most of the time. Want some more wine?"

Without waiting for my answer, he pours a bit more into my glass.

"I'm underage. That's a felony, you know. I should turn you in."

"Add it to my list of sins, Holly. How many am I at so far?"

I accept the glass, taking a sip as I carefully place my pawns in a row on the white squares.

"Oh, easily over four hundred by now. My tell-all book is going to be a bestseller for sure."

Wong chuckles, watching me set up his chess pieces too.

It is nine o'clock at night, and we're alone under the Window of the Vishanti after a day of chores for me and studying for him. Both of us are in our pajamas. My duties are over until morning, unless I'm called for. But the Master and his wife aren't even back. I've turned down their bed, stoked the fire in the bedroom, lit incense and laid out their night clothes. A bottle of champagne in a chiller to one side should they want a nightcap. Everything has been seen to. I hope that whatever friction might have arisen between them during their evening out will be eased when they find the room to their liking.

We are seven moves into the next game when Ming comes running up the stairs, breathless.

"They're back."

Wong nods, concentrating on the chess board.

"Good, good. Hope they had a fun time."

"I…don't think so, sir."

I start to rise to my feet, but Wong stops me.

"Don't. Don't you get in the middle of that. You doing well. Keep your head down, just do your work, haven't ever made her really angry. She knows magic. You don't. Stay right where you – "

There's a smashing sound, and then we can hear the shouting from down below us. Ming darts over to get behind Wong. He pats her hand when she rests them both on his shoulders.

"I'm not going down there, Master Wong. I'm just going to wait, and then clean up whatever it is that's been broken before one of you winds up with a shard of priceless artifact lodged in your foot."

"…..didn't HAVE to even drag me to that boring useless WASTE OF TIME, anyway!"

Ming looks at me, her almond eyes filled with anger.

"I could kill her in her sleep. Holly wouldn't even need to get involved."

Wong smacks her hand. "Stop that talk right now. By the Living Tribunal, you are too feisty for your own good. I don't want to have to rush to your rescue. Then she'd come after me too."

"Only if I failed. That bitch – "

"Is married to your Master. Show respect."

"I will when she shows Stephen some." Ming snaps, her temper rising.

"…..don't show even a modicum of respect for me, Clea! Sometimes I wonder if you…."

"See?! Even he notices it!" Ming is practically hissing. Out of all of us, she's definitely got the strongest emotional response to all this unrest.

I get up this time, and evade Wong's reach. Walking carefully to the top of the stairs, I simply grip the bannister and listen. Behind me, Ming is outlining her plan to smother Clea with a pillow while Wong tries to shush her.

If I lean over just right, I can see the two of them down in the foyer. Two figures facing off against one another. I wish Master Strange would back up a pace. He's within slapping range.

"When I met you, you were exciting and dashing and we were setting the universes on FIRE! And now LOOK at you! Just a pathetic shadow of a man who spends all his time in the library!"

"I have things to learn, Clea. There was a time when you understood that, and didn't make demands. You used to understand me."

"You're impossible to understand! And impossible to trust! The MOMENT I walk out of here you're calling some cheap WHORE – "

"Like you're the pinnacle of faithfulness. I'm lonely, dammit. Half the time I don't do what you think I'm doing with them. It's enough to just have another person in the room."

"THEN CALL ONE OF YOUR LITTLE SLAVES!"

"MAYBE I WILL!"

I close my eyes, groaning. Only one of them is allowed to raise their voice, and it's not Master Strange. Predictably, there's the sharp *CRACK* of a hand against a face that I love.

Well then. That makes three times this month now.

Without looking, I put my hand out to grab Ming's wrist before she can run down the stairs and possibly get herself killed.

"Stop. Just…just wait." I whisper to her. Behind us, Wong is on his feet as well. He puts a strong hand on both of our shoulders and begins to steer us toward the side staircase, back to the servant's quarters.

Reluctantly, and only because she can't disobey a direct order from a Master, Ming allows him to move her. I turn and gently, respectfully move his hand. And I take it in both of mine and kiss it.

"Take Ming. I need to be here for the aftermath. You know I won't lose my head, sir."

Wong hesitates. Down below us, it's gone silent. Then we can all hear Clea snarl at her husband.

"You're a bastard, Stephen Strange. I wish I'd never met you!"

"WE WISH YOU HADN'T EITHER!" Ming shouts. Wong picks her up and all but runs for the side stairs. There's the sharp staccato sound of high heels.

"WHO SAID THAT?! WHICH ONE OF YOU NASTY LITTLE BRATS WANTS TO DIE?!"

"Clea! Don't you DARE!"

For such a large man, Wong is faster than a rabbit. He's got Ming the hell out of there before I can even register what's about to happen. I back up a few steps, but I'm not fast enough.

With Master Strange hot on her heels, Dormammu's niece is running up the stairs, her right hand raised. A purplish glow hovers around her fingers. When she sees me, she stops a few steps below me. Her eyes are narrowed with rage.

"Mistress Clea." I say calmly, my heart hammering in my chest. "How was the opera?"

"Don't you dare stand there in your jammies and act like nothing's happened. Who shouted at me?!"

"It wasn't I, Mistress. I was playing chess with…. (but Wong is long gone)….with myself. Perhaps one of the others on another floor shouted."

But I am, as Master Strange well knows, a terrible liar. And Clea can smell it. She comes closer, a cat about to pounce, and her beautiful face is only inches from mine. Her melodious voice gone low and deadly.

"You think I'm blind, don't you. Well I'm not, Holly. I see the way you look at him. You're nothing. You're a slave. And you need to remember to keep to your place, or I'll happily put you in it. Is that understood?"

"Yes Mistress."

Master Strange wisely says nothing, knowing that a single word could ignite the argument all over again. I look into Clea's eyes, forcibly softening my voice as though I faced an enraged tiger and not a slim woman two inches taller than me.

"You've had a difficult evening. Why don't you let me make you some tea before bed? There's no need to be upset. No one here is your enemy. You know that the staff are just as loyal to the Sorcerer Supreme as you are. They are deeply protective of him. Some of the younger girls don't have the best control over their emotions. Please, let me soothe your hurt feelings." And I punctuate these gentle words with the ultimate weapon, one rarely used. "Your Majesty."

There's a long silence. Clea seems to be on the verge of slapping me next. But finally she huffs out a sigh. The violet haze around her hand dims, and is extinguished. Master Strange puts a hand on her arm, but she jerks it free.

"Don't touch me! Come, Holly. You can make my tea. And I'll need a massage after all of this. Stephen, I'm sure the library is calling to you."

"Actually, that sounds like a capital idea." He responds, his voice tight. I don't dare look at him, although I can feel his eyes on me. My lips curve into a false smile, and I take Clea almost tenderly by the arm and lead her back down the stairs. Around the smashed vase on the floor. Through the foyer and into the kitchen while my Master storms off to the library to brood.

The next three hours are the longest of my life.

I make Mrs. Strange's tea, deftly adding a dollop of brandy 'to ease her nerves'. I warm up fresh bread and spread homemade butter on it. I sit across from her and silently listen to her litany of complaints, hand her napkins to dry her angry tears, even pat her hand.

After this, we retire to the master bedroom and I warm oil over a candle in a small dish while she undresses. Most of the fight is out of her at this point, and she settles onto the bed with her head pillowed on her arms, sighing unhappily. I bring the warm oil over and drizzle a little onto her perfect back. I've massaged her for nearly an hour before she speaks again.

"He doesn't love me."

"Respectfully, Mistress, that isn't true. He loves you more than he has ever loved a woman."

"Then why does he ignore me for days at a time? Why do I have to put up with his infidelities?! I KNOW I'm not faithful either! I KNOW I started it! But I was dazzled by a rogue mage! It wasn't my fault!"

"Yes, Mistress."

"He's impossible! I don't know why I stay!"

"Take a few deep breaths, let the tension out. You don't have to make any decisions tonight. You need sleep, Mistress. Would you like me to stay with you?"

She lifts her head a little, flashing me a watery smile.

"You're a good girl, Holly. No. I'll be alright here alone. And I do wish to be left alone tonight. Bring the champagne over and open it. When you see my husband, please tell him I don't want to be disturbed."

I do as I'm told, noticing with a detached kind of interest that my hands aren't shaking as I uncork the champagne. I pour her a glass and bring it to her as she slips into a purple silk robe.

"I will tell him, Mistress. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"No, that will be all. You can go. I'm sure you're tired. Clean up that crap at the base of the stairs, it's a mess."

"I'll sweep up the shards right now."

And then I'm stepping into the hall, pulling the door shut behind me and standing still for a few seconds. Still eerily calm, I descend to the front hall and fetch the broom and dustpan. The shards of the vase tinkle softly as I push them into the dust pan. When I rise to my feet, I look around the vast room cast in shadows. Mysterious, as all things in the Sanctum are. It is a perfect place.

I take the broken mess to the kitchen to dispose of it. Then I make another pot of tea. Arrange some cookies on a plate. Fill a separate glass with cold milk.

My mind wanders as I work. I hope Ming is alright. Wong was an absolute hero tonight, and he probably saved her life. I can't imagine the talking-to he's probably delivered to her. But they're very close. She's his personal servant just as I am Master Strange's. We came at roughly the same time, and were the first. I'm sure all will be well by morning.

Carrying the tray in my hands, I walk silently through the mansion to the grand staircase again, and I begin the long climb to the library.

I don't say anything when I come into the room, but I do close the door behind me. It's a holy place, this particular library. All the most sacred books are kept here, lining the walls and the shelves, some of them glowing softly. I don't call out for him. I simply walk through the rows of books until I come to the alcove where he sits looking out the window, Levi floating restlessly beside him. I set the tray down on the low table beside him and move to kneel on the sofa at his side.

What can I even say? There's nothing. So I do something I have not done since I was thirteen. I put my arms around him and rest my forehead on his shoulder.

After a moment, I can feel his scarred hand gently cup my forearm.

"Thank you for doing damage control. I trust you've calmed the situation down?"

"Yes Master. She's calm now. But I'll need to make up the guest room for you. The sheets are already fresh. I just need to light a fire and some candles and incense. Make it comfortable for you."

He says nothing.

As far as fights went, it hadn't been a truly bad one. I wonder why the Master of the Sanctum puts up with such disrespect. He doesn't deserve it. And the infidelities she brought up? It's not as though it happens every week, or even every month. She's been far less restrained. Far less discrete. Far less discerning.

I move around to sit in the armchair to one side of the sofa, gently pushing the try towards him.

"Eat. Drink. You need your strength."

"I don't want a cookie, Holly." He sighs. But after a moment, he reaches for one with a hand that will always tremble, and breaks it in half, holding me the larger piece. I don't deny him this simple act of solidarity. We take turns dipping our cookie halves in the milk.

"It was Ming who shouted. Master Wong got her out of there."

"I thought so. I know the voices of all my servants. And that is what you are, Holly. Not a slave. Not 'nothing'. You're an indispensable part of this household. My wife can dismiss you from her presence, but she has no power to dismiss you from your job. Only I can do that, and I have refused on countless occasions to send any member of the staff away. For most of you, this is the only real home you've ever known. Even though you've all been keeping your distance from me for some reason, I still consider you as much a part of my family as Wong is."

"I'm relieved to hear that, sir."

His cheek is red where she struck him. But his skin isn't cut, at least. I'm grateful for that. Sometimes she turns her rings around.

"I assume you were playing chess with Wong?"

"I was, yes. He's very good, and never lets me win. I like that he doesn't let me win. It means that when I do finally take his king, I will have truly earned the honor."

Master Strange nods slowly, and takes a bite out of the cookie in his hand. I reach out and touch his arm.

"May I speak freely, sir?"

"I have a feeling you're going to no matter what I say."

"No. I'll keep my silence if you ask it of me. I respect you, Master. Your wishes are my laws."

"Alright, Holly. Speak freely."

I lower my voice, just in case there are listening ears about.

"The staff haven't been keeping their distance because they've stopped loving you. Your wife made her displeasure at our familiarity very clear. We have some young girls here, like Amara in particular, who are very timid when it comes to direct threats. In response to this, I instituted some rules for only the female members of the household. They are to stay back from you, not touch you, not speak to you, not be alone with you, never come to your chambers unless called for. Only I am permitted to continue caring for you, but in a very limited capacity. Your wife trusts me. And I won't have the staff members under me subjected to abuse. Sir, Amara was six when her parents died. She was taken in by The Ancient One and taught the art of servitude. At eleven, she was sent here to you, a great honor. Do you remember the day she first arrived?"

"I do. She was so small, none of the work dresses would fit her. She ran to me and hugged me. Wong thought she was precious."

"Yes. She hugged you so tightly that you said she was like a starfish trying to open a clam. You called her Little Starfish after that. You asked her to write down her birthday, and one day that made her sad. And you gave her special attention on those days. She wrote down the day she was born and the day her parents died. You took her to the zoo, the aquarium, the museum. Bought her shiny things and stuffed animals. She would bring you your breakfast every morning, careful not to trip over the hem of her dress, and push the door open without knocking and rush in to greet you."

Master Strange closes his eyes for a moment, lowering his head.

"Let me guess. She was told to stop that."

"Yes sir. Clea threatened to cut her throat. Amara came to me sobbing and threw herself into my arms. I held her and soothed her. Then I sent for Master Wong. I told him what was happening. He calmed Amara down beautifully, made her laugh, told her that she would have to bring him breakfast every morning now, and he was very happy to have her all to himself. When she wandered sadly off to her room to wash her face, he turned to me and told me I would need to handle the situation. So I did. I called a meeting, and I instituted the rules. That's why you have male servants attending you more often than not. Because for three years, I have protected my staff."

Agitated, he tosses down the other half of his cookie and rises to his feet, pacing. Levi immediately floats over to attach to his shoulders, hugging him. I fold my hands in my lap and wait patiently in silence for the tall sorcerer to process the new information.

At last, he stops restlessly walking, his hand on a book shelf. Without turning around, he speaks to me.

"Tell Amara to come to me tomorrow afternoon in the courtyard. I'll have lunch with her, and apologize. And Holly?"

"Sir."

"Lift the rules. All of them. I will deal with my wife and her petty jealousy. Thank you for coming to me with this. The morale of the household is important, and it's not her place to make decisions about my staff. It's mine. There is only one Master of the New York Sanctum. I'm tired of the disrespect."

"We all are, sir."

He turns to look down at me, and I meet his gaze evenly, lifting my chin slightly. Still calm. Still somehow managing to hide my emotions. But I can feel the strain of stress beginning to fracture my resolve. I'll need to be alone soon.

"Ming shouted. She was angry, and I don't blame her. I was angry too. Why didn't you shout?"

"I never raise my voice, Master."

"No. You just keep count of the fights and the physical blows, and bring me cookies in the middle of the night."

"What do you think would happen to me if I raised my voice to your wife? She's a powerful sorceress from another dimension with enough energy in one hand to snuff out my life. She would not even really need magic, since you've been kind enough to teach her martial arts. She could kill me, sir. She could wipe the floor with every member of this household except you and Wong. But it's not fear that stills my tongue no matter how angry I get. It's the desire to protect you. I do it for you, Master Strange. I am the only one allowed near you, and it's because Mistress Clea tolerates me. She sees me as nothing but a very obedient servant. I treat her with nothing but respect and compassion. You have a universe to safeguard. Let me handle the running of the household. It's why I'm here. Now I will tell the staff that they may come near you again, but you will forgive me for insisting that they do so cautiously. I won't risk their safety. Just as you wish to protect the denizens of this planet, I wish to protect the seven women and two young men who serve this house."

He moves to sit down again, nodding, and picks up the discarded chunk of cookie. I take another bite of mine too, and we eat in silence for a little while.

"Ming has a lot of courage. But so do you, in your way. I respect that, Holly."

"Thank you sir. You flatter me."

"No flattery intended." He picks up another cookie and breaks this one in half too. I take a piece and nibble at it.

"My wife seems to think you might be in love with me."

"A ridiculous thought, sir. You are absolutely hideous. Sometimes I have to drink a cup of rum before coming to you just to endure your presence."

He laughs at this, relaxing. Enjoying the banter. After a moment, he looks at me with a smile that melts my heart.

"Stay with me for a little while tonight."

My entire body stiffens, and ice seems to fill my chest and stomach. Some of the color drains from my face. In eight years, he has never treated me as anything but a cherished servant. I don't know what to say. How to feel. A large part of me wants to whisper 'yes', and climb into his lap. Another part of me wants to rise to my feet and coldly tell him that I am not one of his high priced escorts. And yet a third part of me wants to break down into tears and cover my face.

His expression clouds with worry.

"What is it? Are you alright, Holly?"

I'm already fighting back tears, to my horror. But my voice only shakes a little when I answer him.

"You know that I will, sir. Although I've never been with a man before, and I'm sure I'll be a vast disappointment."

"Oh! Oh God, no! Holly, not like that! Dammit. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply…" He pinches the bridge of his nose, groaning. "I should have worded that better. What I meant was, I'd enjoy talking to you a little more. I've missed our talks. You make me laugh and you're not trying to hit me or hurling perfume bottles at me from across the room. You're sensible and calming and I just…I would really prefer to have you nearby. Just for an hour. I wouldn't try anything. You should know me better than that by now."

Warmth returns to my cold body. I reach out with both hands and take one of his between them.

"No, I'm the one who should be sorry! I completely misunderstood. Master, I would love to spend an hour, or even more than an hour with you. There is no one in the world I would rather be with tonight, or any other night. I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable."

"You didn't. I feel like a fool. You're twenty. I'm more than twice your age and your employer. It would be inappropriate of me to abuse my position and take advantage of you. I'd never do that."

Is it the late hour? The sip of brandy I had in the kitchen with Clea earlier? The effects of a cookie dipped in milk? I don't know. For the rest of my life, I won't know what overcame me in this moment. But I move forward to sit beside him, and I dare to lay a hand on his cheek.

"I wouldn't care of you were an eighty year old factory janitor. My answer still would have been yes. You must forgive a frightened virgin her hesitation, though. It's not polite to expect me to be sophisticated. I was raised on a farm."

He blinks those pale eyes, completely taken aback and at a loss for words. Embarrassed, I can feel a blush rising in my face. I pick up the tray as I get to my feet.

"I'll bring this to the guest room in the east wing. Please come when you feel ready. The room will be prepared, and I will be there to talk with you until you fall asleep. Thank you sir."

And I scurry out before he can respond.