1963-09-18 - I'm Leaving It Up To You
Summary: The Enchantress comes to impart some nasty news over a bit of spellcrafting.
Related: Calling All Asgardians
Theme Song: None
amora rogue 


A flash of light and Amora had appeared where ever it was that Scarlett happened to be at the time. She looked.. worn almost. Though she wore her mortal guise like a glove as always. It lacked her usual polish if anything though it was still the epitome of fashion. Green from head to toe, high heels, fluttering sun dress and wide brimmed sunglasses completed the look.

"Scarlett!" Her voice lifted as she shifted her grip on a small box. "We need to talk, my dear student. Things must be done. It concerns our dear Princes." Her voice fell and she lifted a hand, the smell of her magic, of juniper lifting and covering the area in which the two women stood.

"I have spent the day wasted in Alfheim and dealing with the /Princess/. So if you wish to aid in this venture, I shall need you to act and act quickly."

*

Days and hours tick down towards an appointed moment when the court of Asgard assembles to measure the sentence placed upon pride. Is there one in the realm without it? Even those cast onto Midgard, the central realm on Yggdrasil's great trunk, can be accused rightly of overweening ambitions and pride. Though a very rare number among them have reached such heights as the present company, and the unjustifiably absent.

Preparations and ablutions to ease the strain of assuming another's identity require much care. Foremost among them, the taking of tea and intense meditation while adopting poses foreign even to most warriors — though they might see a symmetry there with their own forms — consumes the girl called Scarlett by most. However beautiful and enrapturing Amora may be, and she would never deny that, her present clarity affords some limited shreds of greater patience.

It may be curious then for Amora to find herself within a full hermetic binding circle, the drawn lines quartered and sliced by the planets, and fine sand laid down upon other things, for this would be where the young woman meditates. A book rests in her lap, and she gazes up through inscrutable emerald eyes the shade of an arctic aurora. They sit on the rooftop of a building in Greenwich Village, by the looks of it, though not the one she lives in.

"My lady, blessings of the evening star upon you as well." At least she remembers how to be polite. "Would you be so inclined to inform me where we go?"

*

Amora frowned faintly at the design on the rooftop her full lips pursed into a thin line as she considered the mortal before her. "Rise and join me at once. I know where Loki is being kept. I know the cause in so far as what Lady Sif said. We have work to do, if we mean to be of use. I need to gather materials for a soul stone. If we want to know where the Trickster is exactly, I shall have to do considerable magicks. I require your hands."

And just like that Amora waved a hand around them, green swirls of magic enclosing around them. The two were instantly teleported to the apartment Amora had taken residence up in. The kitchen was already strewn about with various magic items. Several spellbooks stacked above the other, and several floating around. Clearly, Amora had been at work.

*

A simple sweep of her foot eradicates the inner circle where Scarlett sits; it wouldn't be sufficient to hedge out the likes of Amora, anyways. She might attain a measure of protection against minor spirits, for whom the binding is primarily pointed using suitably orthodox magic rooted in the 17th century onwards. Competent drawings on the sigils are noteworthy.

While Amora speaks, the girl already acts. She closes up the book and kicks away the evidence of the circles, rapidly dismissing their round shapes by manual exertions that hardly cause any discomfort or take much time. Then they disappear into the apartment.

The transition gives her a moment to assess, even as she tucks her hands against her sides and sets the book down somewhere unoccupied. "I see. How did you come to know of these things, and what precisely is a soul stone? Are you seeking to carve out a piece of your soul for some purpose, like creating a realm of the ego?" She's been reading obsessively, clearly.

*

Amora shook her head, already taking out a rough shaped crystal from the box and setting it at the bottom of a large copper bowl. "No, a soul stone is when you take out the soul of a body and keep it locked away. Some poor, foolish, guard left me a lock of his hair some years ago. He meant it as a love token, but anyone that is foolish enough to leave hair for a witch deserves what he gets."

The Enchantress waved over books to her, flipping through various pages with impressive speed. "I need you to pass me ingredients and keep a circle of intent running outside of the kitchen. I don't trust my magic's limits being halved as they are here in Midgard. I need you to make sure that no one from the outside interferes. Keep my barrier up so that Heimdall doesn't hear or see.." She tossed a few ingredients into the bowl.

"I learned this information from Lady Sif, she said that Loki ran his mouth at his father. I don't understand what could possibly make the All-father lock his own son up.. but something happened.."

*

Carving off a piece of one's self sounds remarkable enough, but taking another from a soul is another business indeed. Scarlett's expression turns as distant and diffuse as the stars, the wit concealed beneath a faded gleam.

"Ingredients," she replies, acknowledging the request. Her hands will be washed in the sink, banishing the influence of neutralizing salt and grounding sand, though she foregoes the soap. The redhead's braids skim her shoulders and curl against her waist, and she glances askance. "Is this something that he would want you to do?" A question made lightly enough while she awaits the directions of what should be done, and her gaze does not stray overly much to the spellbooks. Assuming she could even read them, forays into a quick glimpse here or there are more likely to do harm than good.

"A circle of intent being a simple barrier? Or something other, mayhap?" Knowledge may go a little or a long way. Her gaze tilts upwards; all it takes to invoke some things is to say their name.

*

Amora arched a golden brow upwards, turning around to peer at Scarlett intently in silence for a long moment before she spoke. "I do not care if this is something /he/ would want me to do or not. I need control of the guardsman to see where Loki is being held, and to speak with him. I will not have access to find him and speak with himeven if my exile is lifted in any other way. I am not trusted in Asgard, I never have been. No one will let me slip by to speak with /Loki/," She sighed her lips pursed together.

"If we have any chance of speaking with him and seeing what he desires to be done in regards to his imprisonment.. then this is the only chance. Thor will not pause to consider Loki's desires in this if he hears. He will want his brother free. If we want to keep our Princes from being banished, and keep Asgard stable.. then this must be done."

*

"Obligation requires me to ask, that I do not overstep or generate another visit from his lady mother." Names are not named, Scarlett having the wherewithal to allude and dissemble easily enough on basic matters. "Trouble came near enough for you, my lady, and I still cannot fully fathom the depths of those buried messages she delivered to us." Her hands slip towards the indicated ingredients as required, delivering them with an ease of someone used to being in a kitchen, a laboratory or a classroom. "Forgive me but the social rules and cues of Asgard remain a subject of uncertainty. Better to know in advance the expectations upon me or usual arrangements rather than learn by offense." Forewarned is forearmed, in other words.

"Would the All-Father banish the pair of them and risk the succession of his realm over a matter of loyalty? Would he see one Prince's crime magnified by the other because of their fraternal love?" The reality is a strange one to this child adrift, the creation of the Norns without footing or rooting in the world.

*

Amora grumbled something under her breath, and tossed in a handful of herbs that caused an explosion of smell and color in the bowl to appear. "I cannot say. You're not a member of Asgard's kingdoms. You are outside of their laws. But you are also outside of direct protection. Without me, or Loki's promise of protection? You must break bread in the hall as soon as possible. It will promise you safe lodging for a night at least. That should be more than enough to get through and see what our Trickster Prince desires of his situation." She threw another handful of magical items into the bowl and muttered a few words.

"This is against Asgard's laws, but I have done it before. For less a need." She sighed, drawing her gaze back to Scarlett. "I cannot say what the All-father would do. But as King? He must punish all in his realm that break his laws, even the Princes.. especially the Princes, when it comes to treason. If Thor goes against his king it could end as the Thunderer fears. With Asgard lacking her heirs.."

*

"So much for the old laws to eat nothing and take nothing." Scarlett's smile falters a moment when strange scents emerge from a bowl, though she readily calms after that. Her composure is considerable, for even a girl of relatively few years. "Then it shall fall to me to reach that point as expediently as possible. Fortunately none are like to look for me or suspect me to have any rank." A lift of her shoulders accepts this fact. "I am no warrior queen or sorcerer supreme, known but to her ladyship. They shall no doubt question my purpose and this presumes they permit me admission at all. There stands a very chance they would not; as Thor pointed out in his inestimable way, why should anyone? I am irrelevant unless one hungers for intelligence from Muspelheim."

The heart matters nothing at all in these things, and even if they did, they hold no force, no truce and no oath-binding. The only secrets may well be hidden elsewhere out of sight…

*

A chuckle, dark and terrible and lovely left Amora as she turned from her magick workings for a brief moment. "Oh darling, please, have faith in me. It will be easier, far easier for you to be permitted into Asgard. However, I have my ways to get you there if needed. I would prefer not to resort to them, but I have my ways. They will not be easy, nor will they be free of risk. But if you desire to be in Asgard.. to aid in the rescue of the Trickster God, then I shall do what I can to get you there.."

A smile curved her lips and Amora turned back to her workings. A cloud of green smoke lifted from the bowl, spiraling upwards in a tiny puff. "What can I say, I find this prospect amusing. I find you, and your plight heartening.. it's something to keep me entertained and breaks up the days.. the endless days of my life. I haven't had this much fun in centuries, Scarlett."

*

Fingers curl around sprigs of sage and rosemary, dividing the portions out to six of each. These Scarlett sets aside and she pauses, setting her hands upon the counter for balance to reach out and 'feel' for whatever ought to count as a barrier, a circle of intention. Visualizing a circle in the mind's eye is far from difficult, though pouring out her energy in a controlled fashion more difficult. Perceptions are not the same as the rest.

She bites her lip and conjures up a delicate hovering orb of eldritch verdant light. It tints more green than cyan, though both alternate in waves, and she blows out the radiance to run in a sphere around them. The counter props her up as she tries to keep the flow relatively steady, fading out into an iridescent band with her mouth almost white in concentration.

"Does he wish it, I will shift what I can to assure his welfare," she murmurs, though this should hardly be a surprise. "Though I have little doubt he has plans and plans within plans in the event such a thing happened. He might get bored after the first few decades, surely."

*

Amora arched a brow, glancing to Scarlett, "Aye, it has occurred to me that he does not wish to be freed. Which is why this is what must be done. So I might speak with him and see what he wishes. This way it can be done without arousing the All-father nor the Thunderer to action. It must be done quickly to spare the chance of trouble. I do not doubt that Loki has plans within plans that would make one's head ache.." She paused, her lips pursed together as she threw another glob of power into the bowl and excited a spark of light from the contents therein.

"Consider.. that this might be in his plans. That he wants Thor to act without thinking and possibly be tossed out of Asgard?"

*

The circle holds and fades from sight, a luminous presence for only a breath before evaporating out of sight. Scarlett's fingers loosen around the edge of the counter and she tests her balance, ginger about the act, before straightening up to continue her task as sorceress handmaiden to the Enchantress. This she can provide with relative ease.

"I had. That he might be goading his father to some purpose, some lesson. Perchance he seeks to demonstrate the worthiness of his brother or himself, though it could as much be a slip of the tongue that landed him into hot water." Her fingers tap lightly against the stems of the plants. "Too many variables for a suitable plan, thus we must conjecture and consider multiple possibilities. The whole situation is clear as mud."

*

The Enchantress waved a hand and the swirling power focused on the faceted crystal at the bottom of the bowl. Her green eyes narrowed in thought, a smile still curving at her lips. "Or perhaps we miss the point entirely. Perhaps it was to show his father that without him.. the Thunderer can not handle diplomatic situations. Or that he is ruled by his emotions. Perhaps to prove Loki's merits… I highly.. doubt that after a century or more here that Loki simply had a slip of the tongue." She scooped out the crystal, all other ingredients no longer present in the copper bowl. She held up the lightly glowing gem, the verdant illumination casting her features in the almost sickly light.

"Who can say? But there is something rotten in the Kingdom of Asgard, and it deals with the royal family."

*

"Perhaps to demonstrate the diplomatic endeavours founded even after a century on Midgard. See, his brother will come. You. A unifying action for Asgard, in its way, and a demonstration of power."

No, she is not stupid, for all that Scarlett lacks experience or nuance. She can read multiple paths from an originating point a fair way along, though she shakes her head. "Again, it is all speculation without certainty short of knowing his mind, and that portion of his mind he chooses to share." Her arms cross over her chest when the gem is lifted from the bowl, and her eyes drift to Amora's face rather than stare too long upon it.

*

"You needn't worry, the gem is perfectly safe. Without the gentleman's hair in question, it won't do anything. It needs a marker." She tossed the crystal up into the air and caught it, the stone fading into a pocket of nothingness to be accessed later.

"No, I do not claim to know.. but these are the facts: the Queen visited and spoke not of her son. Everyone knows she has a special fondness for her youngest, but spoke not of him. The All-father has locked up his youngest son—for what was dubbed as 'rude' and has kept him there for many suns and moons, after Loki spent the last century plus here on Midgard.." She exhaled a breath, reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose.

"I fear for Asgard should both the Princes be stripped of their titles. Asgard polices the Nine Realms, without the stability of two heirs.. it upsets the balance. And makes us seem weak… It could be the reason the Jotuns have taken up as well.. but I do not think them related."

*

The news holds the Midgardner silent for a time, reflecting upon the details. Her fingers roll a sprig of sage back and forth, unleashing a heavily herbal scent upon the air.

"The eldjotnar discovered the displeasure of both princes," she eventually hazards a guess in a great game only the Norns know. Scarlett is at a disadvantage there. "Coordinating their efforts to a given purpose, they are more formidable than acting at cross-purposes. The realms should fear when they decide to move in unison. Would the news not reach Jotunheim from Muspelheim? Someone surely carries the stories on. Testing the boundaries now feels convenient or…"

A pause. "Or… it's part of the All-Father's plan. He might play that deep a game, testing the security of the realm to instruct his sons on a lesson of diplomacy or power? I've seen done in history, as have you, and it would not be the first time. Supposing they heard of the discord, the jotnar might take this opportunity to act, but there could be something to it. I don't know. Foreseeing the future is not my gift."

Her nose wrinkles slightly. "Would my path began so much earlier, so I might have some competency at anything worthwhile. Alas, make do with what we have."

*

Amora inclined her head, "It is entirely possible. It's also possible that someone else entirely is pulling the strings. Or it is indeed the All-father, ensuring that his son are in Asgard and in their proper places. I cannot say. There are too many variables.. all I know, is that I sense that all is not well, nor right. There are things in play that neither of us are aware of. This is why my spell is necessary. To find out a few more things before we stumble into further trouble. If I can help it.. I would not have Thor exiled.. But at the same time…" She closed her eyes briefly.

"It would keep him from that courting with that princess." She grumbled.

*

Illusions die a painful death upon the sword of veracity, and the backswing may cut Scarlett as much as she cuts into an illusion. "Or he goes to her realm and seeks the support of her people in his efforts. They would be receptive to another exile, being themselves the same, no?"

She dips her head forward, and gazes upon her hands, reflective upon their outlines. Fingers in delicate articulation spread into a fan, her thumbs barely touching. Some proof of nipping at the cuticles of her thumbs is there, but her fair skin impervious to most weapons is equally resistant to her teeth. "Let us not be given too much to despair or the worst of cases. It never hurts to prepare for an evacuation, but neither can we stand from the footing the worst will happen, or we're practically inviting it to do so."

Worshipping at the font of wisdom lasts only so long. "What is likely to happen when we head there? Can you tell me of that?"

*

"Heimdall will be there at the Bifrost. We will be allowed to enter Asgard— but beyond? To the city proper? That will require permission. Thor and his /betrothed/ will be allowed and welcomed with open arms.. Me and you? It depends on the All-father's mood. I might still be executed for daring to return to Asgard without following through with the commands given to me. I was to return Thor to Asgard, yes.. but I was to turn his eyes away from unsuitable ladies. If the All-father disapproves of the Princess.. then my life may very well be forfeit." Amora sighed, dragging her hands through her hair and pulling it back into a braid as she spoke.

"If all goes well, we will be accompanying Thor into the palace. In which either the Queen or King will summon us first to explain ourselves. Possibly both."

*

"What explanation ought I to offer beyond the utmost truth? I accompany you all at invitation, and I may well be the token Midgardner to witness the rise from rags to riches of a princess? Certainly Her Majesty knows full well my disposition towards the imprisoned son. That well may be a liability, and I am uncertain how to mitigate its factors other than showing proper deference." Scarlett's braids twitch and lick at the components laid out for Amora's purposes. Lips tighten slightly, her tongue flicking against the center of her mouth. "Obviously I do not anticipate wandering about hidden chambers or inquiring high and low of the secrets of the city. That much is apparent, though past that, do they expect me to sit in the main hall or lurk out of sight? For if it were up to me, I'm going to run circuits around the place."

Amora may not recall — or mayhap she does, though it is rare to see — that yon bohemian has a penchant for dancing on the cloud tops, and swiveling through the vast, yawning spaces of the skies. No doubt the Asgardian security forces would be highly alarmed for someone Not Thor (TM) to be blustering around up there at breakneck speeds.

*

A shrug followed Scarlett's words and Amora sighed, glancing over the mortal. "I cannot say. Honesty will get you further, and you are clever enough to tone it with flattery. You should be fine, to play the Princess' handmaiden and not my own." Her lips twitched in irritation, and she waved hand over the myriad of ingredients in the kitchen and they floated upwards to go to their proper places.

"Use your intellect and your wits. That is all the advice I can give you when it comes to the court. Speak when spoken to. Avoid speaking if possible. Keep out of the direct line of sight. Things you will do automatically. You play the part of the servant. Act it. Keep to your supposed mistress. For you need remember that I am not the lady in charge. I am not the one that returns with Thor. I will have no power to protect you nor to offer it there." Amora moved, a chair materializing behind her as she sank into it.

"By the princess' presence my own is made redundant and worthless. Her petty gamble to gain me at her side will not play out as she desires. I have no intention of remaining in the palace. If the All-father accepts my return, then I have no reason to remain. As such I plan to leave as soon as I am able."

*

A trace of colour blushes her lips, her teeth driven into her lower lip while the words convey messages upon a young woman well-used to society's imprecations she ought to be seen and not heard. Breaking the mold in a foreign society seems a truly dismal prospect. "Where will you go, then, provided you do not stay in the palace? I cannot imagine you dwelling in a guesthouse or lodgings of inferior quality."

Curiosity gives Scarlett's voice a delicate lilt, restoring her English accent that so easily emulated Louis King's. He prefers Cambridge; she tilts towards Kent, though it's not a far difference. "You will no doubt be delighted to be restored to your proper rooms, though, as that comes to pass. I can imagine you laying siege to put everything in its proper place."

*

A laugh escaped Amora and she shook her head slowly, "Ahh, my darling, you think I kept all my life in quarters in the palace? I am a lady, aye, but not for many a long year have I spent time in the palace proper. No, I have my own domain. On the edges of Asgard proper. I own my own palace essentially. And I shall be there, far, far away from the court and the Princes and all else. No one can accuse me of treason or mischief there." She smirked, her eyes twinkling with mischief promised to come.

"So I will be quite beyond the ability to aid you or Thor. The princess is so convinced that she can smooth over thousands of years of prideful men? She is welcome to be my guest and attempt it. Only a fool bothers to yell at a storm and think that the storm will actually listen." She leaned back in her chair, a yawn dragging from her lips.

"You all will be quite on your own. For better or for worse. Won't that be entertaining?"

*

"Ah, but I am always on my own, my lady." The faint trace of amusement proves a tonic for the mood, giving an excuse to step out for an amusement. Scarlett tucks her hair behind her ear, though the elaborate coiffure never allows much freedom for her tresses. "It sounds like a pleasure to be away from the madness, and a breath of fresh air for you to reacquaint yourself with your home. I shall hope such father lies upon you."

A pretty image, that Amora will be banished to partake of the joys of Alfheim's best and most talented artists, the ones thronging to her home, and Thor and Crystal will sit beneath the frosty, wooden regard of the All-Father. Perhaps the dungeons do begin to sound more civilized.

"It will all turn out for the better. I should not keep you from your work or preparations. To be certain, I half expect to learn all the affairs happened without me. Should that be the case, do convey my best to him, will you?" O patience, o cold and pitiless stars, move into a cordial alignment for that girl.

*

Amora threw back her head and laughed at that, her hand rising to fluttering over her mouth to muffle the sound. Then she sat up and she waved a hand over Scarlett, a beautiful gown of an emerald green silk that was otherworldly appeared over the mortal. And Amora smirked. "You will come to Asgard, one way or another, Scarlett my dear and you shall tell him such things yourself.. granted we might get him out of his cell. If he desires to be released." She smirked and the image shimmered and faded into nothingness.

"Never you mind the how's. Simply prepare for the journey. I shall see you when we plan to leave."

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