Chapter Five

"Odin, how are you?" Temperance asked as she sat down in her usual chair.

"Fine, thank you," He replied slowly, his gaze suspicious. Temperance gestured for Stephen to have a seat as well, so he wasn't towering over the man, and he obliged, pulling up a chair next to hers.

"Do you remember speaking to me?" She asked Odin.

"No. I've never met you," He replied, already losing patience with her. Temperance and Stephen exchanged a glance.

"So you don't know my name?" She continued.

"Like I said, I've never seen you before."

So, he didn't think she was her mother this time. She couldn't tell if that meant his mind was doing better or worse today. Either way, she would have to use a different approach.

"I'm Amora's daughter," She told him. His eyes glazed over in deep recollection.

"How unfortunate for you," He said after a long moment. Temperance didn't respond at first, chewing the inside of her cheek as she swallowed the insult. So far, Odin was exactly how she'd always pictured him.

"I'm a friend of Thor," She said, deciding to take a different direction.

"My son?" Odin asked.

"Yes, that's right. Your son Thor and I are very close," She repeated, "Do you know where he is?"

He was quiet again for a long time. Becoming impatient, Temperance decided to prompt him again, "Last time we spoke, you said Loki was ruling Asgard."

"He is?" Odin replied, his eyebrows furrowing.

Good question, Temperance thought. That could've been faulty information. She looked to Stephen, unsure where to go from here.

"Can you tell us about the last time you saw Thor?" Stephen asked the old man.

"Why do you want to know about my son? What do you want with him?" He asked, his voice full of vitriol.

"Nothing," Temperance insisted, placing a hand softly on his, where it lay on the arm of his chair. She expected him to recoil, but he didn't, "I want to know about him because I care about him. I'm worried something terrible has happened to him. I haven't seen him in a long time. No one has."

His expression shifted from suspicious to confused to frightened, and Temperance pulled back, shooting a wary glance at Stephen. Yet another topic change was in order - they weren't getting anywhere with this right now.

"I read a story about you," Temp told Odin with a small, reassuring smile.

"A story?"

"Mhm. About Mimir's Well." She prompted. Odin's face brightened the tiniest bit, as if he was remembering something fondly. Proudly. Temperance had been reading a lot about Norse mythology lately - she didn't know how many stories were true and how many had been watered down from real events, but she thought the ones that were true could serve as good litmus tests for how well Odin's memory was working.

"Ah, yes. Mimir."

Stephen's eyebrows furrowed as he glanced between the two, but he didn't say anything.

"Would you tell us that story?" She asked gently, her expression like an eager child's. A trace of a smile appeared on Odin's face and he gazed dreamily out the window as he spoke.

"The Well was for gaining wisdom," He told them. Temperance leaned forward to show that she was listening intently, "Before me, only Mimir had drunk its water. I knew that in order to rule my people, I would need the wisdom that only the well could offer. So I went to Mimir, and I said 'All I ask is for one drink.' And he said no. I was so angry - Mimir was my uncle, you see. My mother's brother. So I said 'Please, Uncle. Just one drink. Name your price.'"

Temperance glanced over to see Stephen leaning back in his chair with his hands folded, still wearing that same perplexed look, and she tried not to smile.

"What did he ask for?" Stephen prompted, noting that Odin had gone silent and was beginning to drift too far into the past. Odin turned his gaze to the younger man, his expression turning mischievous.

"My eye." He answered proudly.

"He cut out your eye?" Stephen said.

"No," Odin said, "I did."

Temperance watched Stephen's expression, this time unable to hide her amusement. Odin gave a hearty chuckle as well.

"So, you tossed your eye into the pool, and you received wisdom," She said. Odin nodded.

"Was it worth it?" Stephen asked, staring down at his hands. Temperance looked at them, too, studying the pattern of scars that criss-crossed them.

"Of course," Odin replied, as if it should have been obvious, "I see far more clearly with one eye now than I ever did with two."

"Would you tell us another story?" Temperance asked sweetly, placing a friendly hand on Odin's knee.

The one-eyed gaze in question turned back on Temperance, and she suddenly felt very exposed.

"You have your mother's charms," He announced, as if he was confirming something. Her face felt hot under the sudden scrutiny.

"I can persuade people," She admitted, figuring it was senseless to try and hide it, "But I haven't used it on you. I wouldn't."

"Oh, I know," Odin replied with that condescending smirk she was beginning to associate with him, "I'm not referring to that."

"I don't know what you're talking about, then," Temperance said, straightening. She wasn't comfortable with the turn this conversation had taken.

"Men fall at your feet," Odin said. Temperance bristled even more.

"Temperance, perhaps that's enough for today," Stephen coaxed gently, placing a hand on her elbow to ground her and let her know that they could leave at any time.

"They can't help it," Odin continued. He knew his words were bothering her, and he was enjoying it.

"You know nothing about me," Temperance said.

"I don't have to," He challenged, glancing at Stephen and then back at her, "I knew your mother. She could melt a man into a malleable mass of devotion and then twist him into a new creation if she wanted to. She was so manipulative even she didn't know where her magic ended and her own will began."

"That's enough," Stephen cut him off sternly, standing up. He pulled Temperance to her feet as well, "He's clearly had enough company for the day. We're leaving."

"The man can barely remember his own children, Temperance. You can't take what he says too seriously," Stephen said as they descended the front steps of the building (after signing out properly, per Temperance's insistence).

"He seems to remember my mother just fine," She said. She was remaining relatively calm, despite the fair amount of angst that was bubbling under the surface, "but it doesn't matter, because I'm not her."

"You're not," Stephen agreed, glad that she was able to make the distinction. They walked down the sidewalk together, Temperance working herself into a lather the more she thought about Odin's smug face.

"I don't manipulate men - I don't even date. I take every possible precaution. The nerve that he would assume I just...go around using men."

"It was completely uncalled for," Stephen agreed, before stopping short with furrowed eyebrows, "You don't date?"

"No," Temp said before reverting back to her rant, "and he so obviously was saying it just to get under my skin."

"You don't date because you don't want to, or you don't date as a rule?" Stephen asked, unwilling to move on from the subject so quickly.

Temperance slowed a bit to match his pace, "Well, there are ethical considerations, you know."

"I'm sure you'd be able to tell if you were coercing someone into dating you," Stephen replied, "You have your ability more in hand than that."

"Maybe," Temperance said, "but they wouldn't necessarily know that. I'm sure it won't surprise you to know that I receive a great deal of suspicion from people."

"I'm sure," said Stephen, "but I don't think keeping people at arm's length is the most reasonable solution. Just because you haven't met someone who can handle it, doesn't mean you won't. And you need to exercise more trust in yourself and your ability."

"Well you'll have to forgive me if I don't agree that joining Tinder is a reasonable solution to controlling my magic," She responded snidely.

"That's not what I said."

The conversation hit a lull when they realized it wasn't going anywhere productive, and Temperance chose to change the subject, unwilling to argue with him.

"What about that Mimir stuff?" She asked, giving him a sideways glance as they continued walking.

"What about it?"

Temperance shrugged, "it just seemed like it got kind of personal for you."

Stephen shoved his hands into his pockets, nodding, "I guess I sympathize with the sacrifice."

Temperance made note of the way he'd tucked his hands away and gave him a small, reassuring smile, "do you ever miss being a surgeon?"

"No," Stephen replied, "I mourn it, but I don't miss it. Some sacrifices are worth it if they mean you can live your real identity. To be the person you were destined to be."

"How did you know you were destined to be Sorcerer Supreme?"

"I didn't," he told her honestly, "but once I knew all this existed, it felt impossible to do anything else. It was right."

Temperance nodded thoughtfully, and the two walked in silence for a minute.

"Do you want me to take you back home?" Stephen offered to create a portal, unsure if he'd upset her.

"Nah," Temperance replied wistfully, "I'd rather keep walking. Sometimes the walk is the best part of going somewhere."

Stephen agreed with a smile and continued beside her in a comfortable silence.

"Do I keep people at arm's length?" Temp asked later that night, tinkering with an old model of Stark Tower that Pepper kept on display in her office. Pepper Potts looked up from the screen she'd been reading and sat back in her chair.

"What makes you say that?" She replied. Temperance sighed and turned to look at her, leaning against the display stand.

"Do I?" She persisted. She was afraid to hear the answer, but she had gone to Pepper for the truth. She knew if anyone was going to be unflinchingly honest, it would be her.

"I think that's oversimplifying it a bit," Pepper replied, eyeing the younger woman, "you don't trust just anybody, but why would you? You have a big heart, and you let people in when it counts. And once you find your people, you're fiercely loyal."

"Right," Temp said, "but does it go too far? Do you think I miss opportunities? Because I don't give people a chance or whatever?"

Pepper gave her a reassuring smile and patted the space next to her on the office sofa. Temperance begrudgingly sat, pulling one leg up underneath herself.

"Maybe sometimes," Pepper conceded, "but everybody has missed opportunities. Everybody has regrets. You can't control things that have already happened, Temp. But the future is an open book. That's where all your power lies."

Temperance was quiet for a moment, considering her words.

"How did you end up with Tony again?" She asked. Pepper laughed, shaking her head.

"At least he knows how lucky he is," she replied with a signature Pepper Potts smirk. Seeing that smirk, Temp remembered why their relationship was no surprise. Pepper slapped a friendly hand down on her knee before continuing, "and as far as not giving people a chance goes, you should cut yourself some slack. You have a lot more to consider than most people when it comes to interpersonal relationships. Your heart is in the right place - you want to protect people. I think, one day, you'll meet somebody that you don't have to protect. Someone who you trust and who trusts you. For some women, it's just harder to find a man that's on our level," She said with a wink.

"I'm not sure when this turned into boy talk," Temperance said, "but I'm gonna have to hit the eject button if it continues."

Pepper shoved her fruitlessly, and Temperance laughed when the momentum pushed Pepper more than her.

"Keep laughing," Pepper threatened, "I've got all kinds of work here you could do."

"Really?" Temp said, egging her on, "I try to have a moment with you, and you threaten to pile work on me. What a great boss you are."

"Can it, Ward," Pepper threatened with mock authority, "or I'll can you."

Temperance rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet as she rang the doorbell, trying to manage her nervous energy. The building was far more formidable than she'd imagined it, and she toyed with the idea of leaving before he answered the door. If you had left a second ago, you could already be around the corner, but it's too late now. She thought to herself, and then, when there was still no answer for another agonizing minute, she repeated the thought process two or three more times. Still, she stood there fidgeting when the large oak door finally swung open.

"Hi, I was just in the neighborhood-" she started to say, pausing when she realized she wasn't speaking to Stephen. She glanced down at the address on the card in her hand, "I mean...is this the sanc-does Stephen Strange live here?"

The man, who didn't seem enthusiastic to have a visitor, raised an eyebrow at her, "Who wants to know?"

"Um...me?" Temp replied with a weak laugh, "I mean, Temperance Ward. The Siren."

He turned away from her, pushing the door open further, and she mouthed The Siren? incredulously to herself - she never used that name for herself. She resolved to pull herself together. Pepper's talk with her, despite being cheesy, had made her realize something, and she had resolved to go out on a limb today and see what happens.

"Follow me," the man beckoned, starting up the large, open staircase that led to the second floor. Temp took in the grandeur of the place as she followed him.

"Do you live here, too?" She asked, trying to make conversation, "Or do you just work here during the day?"

"I help protect the Sanctum," the man replied. It didn't really answer her question, but she didn't press, catching the hint that he wasn't very interested in talking. He glanced back at her as he led her through a hallway to make sure she was still following, "I'm Wong."

"It's nice to meet you, Wong," Temp replied, eyeing an artifact on display as they passed by it. This house looked like a museum.

"Don't touch anything," Wong said.

"Wasn't going to," Temperance murmured to herself.

Wong stopped at a door and knocked to announce their arrival before throwing the door open and stepping in.

"Got a visitor," He said, turning and nodding his head for Temperance to enter. She did, and Wong closed the door behind her, cutting off her meek thank you. She sighed and turned to face the room - it was a study full of books, and Stephen had risen from the tufted armchair behind his desk when she entered.

"Hi," Temp began, "sorry to drop by without any notice."

"It's okay," Stephen said, walking around the desk so that it wasn't separating them, "is everything alright?"

Temperance took a few steps further into the room, fiddling with her hands, "Yes, everything's fine. Nothing like that."

Stephen studied her for a moment, expecting her to continue. There was a long pause.

"Are you busy?" Temp finally asked, "if you're busy, I can come back later."

"No, I'm not busy," Stephen assured her, "What's going on?"

"Okay," Temperance said, deciding to just come out with it, "well...the thing is, I realized why it feels so nice to be around you."

Stephen, who had taken to leaning casually against the front of his desk, straightened again, "Oh?"

"You don't have any cords."

Stephen's eyebrows furrowed, surprised by the answer. He opened his mouth to respond, then closed it, then opened it again, "Cords?"

"Oh," Temperance said, stepping forward, "remember when I told you that I grab onto people's will, like the reins of a horse?"

Stephen nodded.

"Well, when I sense somebody's will, it kind of feels like cords. Furling and unfurling around them. And around me. It's hard to explain. But I call them cords."

"And I don't have any?" Stephen asked.

"No," Temperance said with a concentrated stare, as if she was double-checking to make sure, "I can't believe it took me so long to realize. I guess it's kind of like when you have a cold...and you have it for so long that you can't even imagine how good it would feel to breathe through your nose, but then when the cold actually does go away-"

"You don't notice," Stephen finished, nodding, "makes sense. Have you ever met someone without cords before?"

"Once," Temp said, "but he was under the influence of mind control. Not mine though. A different kind."

Stephen's head cocked to the side as he considered pressing for more information about that situation, but he passed up the opportunity, instead pulling a necklace out from underneath his dark blue tunic. Temperance stepped closer, eyeing the piece curiously. It was a small medallion hanging on a piece of jute string.

"What is it?" She asked.

"It's a charm. It wards off enchantments and spells that are directed at me. Wong wears one, too, and there are similar protections on the sanctum itself. You're safe from temptation here."

Temp took in a shaky breath, the news hitting her harder than she would've expected. She was never free from it - every second of every day - unless she shut herself up alone in her apartment. The thought of being here, with people, and still being able to take a deep breath...she was having trouble even processing it. All she knew was that it felt amazing. Stephen watched her process, waiting patiently for her response.

"You could tell me more about how my magic works?" She asked finally. Stephen smiled.

"What are we looking for?" Temp asked, pulling a thick volume from the shelf and dutifully flipping through it. It was full of unfamiliar symbols and old, fountain-inked script that she found both interesting and creepy. Stephen looked up from the Book of the Vishanti with a quizzical expression - his mouth turned down at the corners like he was trying and failing not to smile. She was so quick to jump in and help, despite having no idea what she was looking at.

"It'll be in here," he told her, gesturing to the book in his hands. Temperance came to stand near him, watching as he flipped through the pages. Though it would only take him two minutes to find the right spell, he yielded the book to her possession, much to her surprise.

"What we're looking for is called the Runes of Revelar," he said, nodding toward the book, "and be careful with that. It's ancient."

"Yeah, I sensed that," Temp murmured, carefully turning a page. She moved even more slowly than he anticipated, her eyes roving over every page with curiosity. Stephen waited patiently, watching her expressions as she read.

"They couldn't put these in alphabetical order?" She asked, raising an eyebrow as she flipped another page.

"That's a compendium of knowledge attained by all the Sorcerer Supremes of the earth dimension. It's not exactly linear."

"You sorcerers and your diaries," she murmured with a smirk. An idea occurred to her and she grabbed a chunk of pages, carefully releasing them to watch them flip. She might not know what many of these symbols were, but she knew what runes looked like. She'd seen them on Mjolnir a hundred times. Whatever they were looking for was clearly of Norse origin, and that narrowed it down.

"Here it is," she announced after a moment, "right next to the Seven Suns of Cinnabon."

"That's Cinnabus," Stephen corrected her, though he got the feeling she was teasing him, "It generates an energy blast as hot as seven suns."

"Not as useful as a Cinnabon spell, I think."

"I haven't had occasion to use it yet," he admitted, taking the book from her and looking over the Runes of Revelar entry.

"Can you read runes?" Temp asked.

"Well enough," he replied. He must have been studying a lot since taking up the position of sorcerer supreme, Temperance thought. He glanced up at her, "can you?"

"Only if it says worthy or Thor," she quipped.

Stephen continued to study the passage, trying to commit it to memory enough that he could put the book down and focus on the magic.

"By the Omnipotent Hands of Oshtur: The truth revealed in brands, marks, and seals." He said, waving his hands in a pattern that looked the same as every other motion he made to Temperance, though she knew it must be a distinct part of the incantation. Temp took in a breath to begin asking questions, but stopped when the effects of the spell appeared. There was a round, intricately inscribed golden insignia projected in the air between them, and the trail of light that led to her chest suggested that she was the projector. It reminded her of the interactive projections Tony used, and she marveled at how similar Stephen's magic looked to science.

"What is it?" She asked, a tinge of alarm in her tone. Stephen studied it carefully, eyes narrowed as he focused on the characters inscribed around the emblem.

"It's a reflection of magic that's been used on you - spells that have been cast on your ethereal body."

"Like…my soul?" She asked, heart racing.

"Sort of," Stephen answered, grabbing the Book of the Vishanti again and flipping through it. Temperance bit the inside of her cheek, forcing herself to be patient in waiting for an explanation, "When you're under a spell, you carry the mark of it - like a metaphysical tattoo. This spell calls those up and reveals them to the naked eye."

"So what kind of spell is that?" She asked, nodding at the seal that was still projecting from her body.

"It's a binding spell," he replied, "it binds your magic in particular. It's like a lock to keep your natural abilities at bay. It's the reason they're so unreliable."

As much as she hated having her abilities called unreliable, she had to admit it was a relief to hear that there was a reason for it besides just a lack of control on her part, "Has it been there my whole life?"

"I'd venture to say so," Stephen said, "It fades over time, but very slowly. It explains why you weren't fully aware until adulthood."

"So I'm going to get worse?" Temp asked, her brow furrowing with worry.

"Not worse," Stephen said carefully, trying not-so-subtly to reframe her perspective, "but more powerful. More control will come along with it."

"How can you be sure?" Temp challenged him. He didn't respond, and she sighed, "who gave it to me?"

"I'm not sure," Stephen admitted, studying the symbol again.

"Your predecessor?" She suggested.

Stephen shook his head, "No, I'd know if this was her work. Sorcerers have a sort of signature to their work. I don't know whose this is, but it's not the Ancient One."

The Ancient One. Temp felt that one merited an explanation, but chose to let it lie for now. Stephen gave her a meaningful look that indicated he had a guess but would rather she come to the conclusion herself, because he didn't want to be the one to voice it.

"My mother?" Temperance asked, voicing his thoughts.

"That does seem the most likely answer."

"Is it? What motivation could she possibly have for doing that?"

"To protect you?"

Temperance gave him a look that suggested this was a ridiculous and perhaps even offensive answer, and Stephen thought it best to leave that idea alone.

"She did name you Temperance, didn't she? Maybe she wanted you to be different."

"My dad could have named me," Temperance reminded him, though she doubted it. Her father had told her many times that her mother had chosen her name, and while much of her origin had been hidden from her, she didn't see any reason for him to have lied about that. Stephen sensed that she was feeling defensive and decided that a change in topic was in order.

"I'm not as familiar with Norse manifestations of magic as an Asgardian would be, but I'll do some reading and see if I can devise a way to break it."

"Break it?" Temperance asked with a stern expression, "if it's there to protect me, why would I break it?"

Stephen's expression was serious and earnest, "Because a higher level of functioning means you'll have space to breathe. Maybe you could even come to terms with your ability. But you have my word that nothing happens unless you want it to. And you'll be welcome here no matter what."

Temperance nodded, crossing her arms across her chest, "Thank you. I'm not saying never. But I'm not ready to cut out my eye just yet."

"Understandable," Stephen replied, "Would it help if we ordered Cinnabon?"

"It certainly couldn't hurt," Temperance replied, her eyes crinkling at the sides as she laughed.