1963-09-18 - Terms of Imprisonment
Summary: When the Enchantress checks in on Loki, she finds a few terms of his imprisonment aren't exactly what she expected.
Related: It's Thor's Party
Theme Song: None
amora louis 


Note: This scene takes place simultaneously with It's Thor's Party.

The guard had been going about his business, the daily rations being passed out to the various prisoners. Jeers and taunts as expected as rain during a storm. Yet, between one moment and the next he ceased to be him. A slight stiffening of his posture followed and the Enchantress of Asgard had slipped into his mind and body. The poor foolish man, had long ago given her a lock of his hair as a love token. Never suspecting that such a gift to a witch might prove dangerous.

Amora had saved the lock, keeping it for when it might prove useful, and as of today it had. She walked with a purpose, none so much as glancing her way as she changed her direction and made a militant pass around the dungeons, searching for the youngest Prince.

And then she found him, she paused outside the barrier, a grin sliding over her lips. "Oh, Lady Sif wasn't simply making things up then.. Oh my. Hello darling, whatever did you do to land here?" The guard's voice was his own, but the posture and tone? All Amora, pure and simply.

*

Where Loki was to be found was in the lowest level of the dungeon, that set of a quartet of solitary cells which were little more than a few walls with an invisible barrier blocking the occupant from escape. He's the only one there in the maximum security level, none other occupy the three empty cells. Yet he seems decently well at ease, for some of his time apparently has been spent in a form of craftsmanship that might be called 'whittling' upon Midgard.

With a thin makeshift blade in his hand, Loki turns his head to the side to consider the guard, the man who had occasionally brought him his meal. A moment is all it take for him to consider the fellow and to realize what most likely has passed.

"Ah. Hello, Amora. I trust you will let this guardsman's mind return to rights once you are finished with him. I care little, but he was passing kind to me in this time of my internment."

*

A soft laugh, no a chuckle, followed Loki's greeting and she/he? shrugged. "I might, he gave me his hair as a love token some hundred or so years ago. Foolish boy," Amora glanced at the reflection in the barrier and smoothed a hand over the guard's face. "Handsome, but foolish, ah-well." She tsk'ed and straightened the helmet on the guard's head.

"Your brother has assembled quite the little troop to Asgard. Including some twat of a mortal Princess to play his bride to be. He means to try to free you, but I thought it best to hear from your mouth directly.. do you wish to be freed, my prince?" Amora tilted the guard's head to the side, a hand settling on a hip in a decidedly feminine fashion that looked utterly foolish on the young guardsmen.

"And whatever did you do to end up here? Sif wouldn't say beyond your typical insults.."

*

A hand touches the wood, a few shavings flicking lightly to the side as he cleans the sculpture he seems to be crafting, though perhaps he's creating naught at all and merely whiling away the time. He sets the blade down and tilts his head towards her. "Amora. I am going to grant you this advice, and I recommend you take it to your heart. Perhaps it is concern for your well-being that motivates it, perhaps it is pride."

The trickster gestures to the side, "Do not come between us in this time. The world is unsteady under foot, it jostles and shifts with each step. It is best trod with a subtle pace, and should one make but a single misstep then it all could come crashing down. Advance your cause as you would, but seek not to affect the path of Asgard in this time."

And for a moment, Loki's gaze meets hers and his eyes narrow. "Do you understand me, Enchantress?"

*

The flirtatious demeanor shifted as Loki's gaze settled upon her, and his words cut through coy cadence of her voice. Her lips thinned as she pursed them, her hands falling to her sides. "Then tell me what you would have me do? Your brother seeks your freedom. Should I simply let him fall or rise on his own merits? Or what of your apprentice, Scarlett? She too, has come.. Shall I tell them all that you desire naught from them?" The guard's voice was cool, clipped and his eyes focused solely on the Prince behind the barrier.

"I would have my debt to you paid in full, Loki."

*

A lift of his chin is given and Loki tells her in that level tone of his where no levity enters his voice. "Your loyalty is to Asgard, Enchantress. Serve the state. You are exiled, beholden to Odin's will and at his mercy by your presence." He peers at the woman in a man's form closely, his gaze glittering with a measure of intensity that he holds reserved for times such as this. "None would fault you for seeking to have that banishment rescinded. Serve your goals, lady. And I shall consider any debt I hold of you to be paid in full."

He settles back slowly in his chair, fingers resting lightly upon the edge of the table, a brief patter of the tips sounding upon the wood as he considers. "Now go. Your misuse of this guardsman offends me."

*

The guardsman's shoulders tighten at Loki's words, and Amora bows, an arm slung across the man's chest. "Your brother is willing to risk destabilizing the whole realm if it means your freedom. He's gone so far as to speak of losing the crown. It puts all of Asgard at risk, to lose a Crown Prince. Jotuns have attacked Midgard, do you think that they shall rescind their ambitions if news traveled that the realm has a banished Prince?" The guard straightened and Amora frowned at Loki openly.

"Give me leave to tell him your intent, and I shall do so, for the good of the realm." A glance was spared down the empty hall and back. "If that is your desire, and I shall go.."

*

Standing slowly, Loki casts his eyes downwards upon the woman before his cell. He folds his arms over his chest, features grim as he murmurs levelly. "I have said all that I will upon the matter."

And with that he turns away from her, very pointedly turning his back upon her, his coat tails sweeping through the air and his manner severe as if he were washing his hands and having done with this woman.

*

An annoyed sound left the guard's lips, another bow of his head following even as Amora grit his teeth together and turned after the dismissal. Without so much as a flash of light she was gone from the man's body. Abandoning him with a viciousness that highlighted her irritation with the Prince.

The guardsman found himself quite unawares once more in the hallway. Alone and forgetting quite what he was doing in the top security level without so much as a tray in his hands. He blinked, shaking his head and muttering about how he shouldn't drink so much the night before a shift.

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