1963-09-23 - Mimirpedia: Lorelei
Summary: Beware Lorelei, sister of Amora, o summer child.
Related: Mimirpedia: Sif
Theme Song: The Plains of Dover - Ceilidh
amora rogue 

After leaving the feast hall sometime ago, Amora made a bee-line for the royal suite that she knew housed Scarlett and Crystal, even if she wasn't currently sleeping there. So whenever the mortal returned, Amora was there waiting on a reclining sofa, a book in hand as she waited. She wore dress of liquid gold silk, sheer with several layers, mixed with strips of amber beneath. Still dressed for the celebrations of the blot, she wore a false breastplate of gold, threaded tightly and boosting her considerable assets with beads of amber draped low. A matching coronet sat primly on her brow, hair tied up with braids and decorated with gleaming clips of gold.

A sigh fell from her lips as she sat, legs crossed and bouncing a foot up and down. Every so often she'd flip a page as if in an idle manner.


A different guard returns with the Midgardner than set out with her, conveyed additionally by no less than Lady Sif. The huntress no doubt had something to do with the young woman's participation in a hunt for the blot, although little evidence of that exists now. She looks well, carrying a tankard of mead not sampled, the necessary accessory when one cannot make even the heavens weep for their splendour.

Her white trimmed cloak sports a crystal of pure ice holding the throat shut and her leather boots creak while she walks, warning of her arrival even if the guard didn't announce, "Lady Scarlett of Midgard." Because everyone here knows whom she is, princess' handmaid. The tankard she sets down and then pauses to behold the gilded vision. "My lady, to what do I owe the visit?"


Amora was on her feet before the door had opened, the book tossed aside in a flippant manner as she rose in a graceful sweep and practically stormed over toward Scarlett. She waved a hand, magic encasing the mortal with a critical aim of inspection. She frowned faintly, and and let her hands falling back to her side as she released a heavy sigh of what seemed like relief.

"My sister. She has returned to Asgard. Her name is Lorelei." Her voice was clipped and measured and her gaze swung over toward the door once more and back.

"If you have ever had an worries, or concerns or fear for one of my kind.. Then you must see her as the absolute worst when it comes to treating with mortals."


Magic slips over her in a cascade and finds no danger there save the buried, sleeping spell in her bloodstream, latent within the guarded walls and possibly more. Her own working to permit All-speak lies upon Scarlett, and the very faintest trace of foreign magic, tinged by the moonbeams and aurora of her own art. What that does is probably no more than an arcane sensory power, slight and delicate.

"Be at ease, my lady, I cannot imagine such a person would be permitted to disturb the Prince, if she is so troublesome as you say. How could that be tolerated?" she inquires, soothing and curious at the same time. "You have conducted yourself impeccably. I know many who may speak to your conduct. Do you fear she will lie about you?" This is how an only child thinks. "I shall not parlay with her without appropriate measures. It would be unthinkable for me to be rude and impose myself, and I can protest my duties and loyalties if she draws near without you, who have been so influential from your time in Midgard. She must fear your return overshadowing her."


A slow shake of her head followed Scarlett's words, her lips pursed together as her hands reached out to settle on the mortal's shoulders. "You miss my worry indeed, Scarlett.." Her voice was a mere whisper and she closed her eyes briefly, her shoulders sagging.

"My sister is colder, crueler and has less patience or thought for mortals. If she knew that you were learning magic from me? From the Prince? She would see you as a toy to break. Especially given your loyalties. How the Prince has given you his protection?" A golden brow rose.

"She would attempt to crush you. Merely because she could, and she would not regret it. My sister destroys cities on Midgard and in other realms because she can. I might spark a riot or two, even cause a few wars in my day.. But I learn. I grow. I sought to better myself with my studies.. She merely learned enough to better seduce and control men."


Such a touch might rightly be feared, a mystic knowing what someone of her ilk can do. Fool she is not; however, her emerald gaze alights upon Amora's face, reading deep as she dare. "I contend your warning is great. I cannot put the guards at risk if she attempts to meddle with me; that is too great a cost to ask. Nor will Thor Odinson halt her, nor the Sorcerer Supreme of Midgard if she can cross me in a fashion where she can conclude it is an accident, a sorry happenstance. It is easier to make apologies for acts done than seek permission."

A frown follows, brief and ephemeral. "I shall avoid her, and when this matter concludes, may it be enough. Better she doesn't see me at all, and turns her eyes to some other plaything. I trust she does not bother the princess so, or else may learn that is unwise."


A nod followed Scarlett's words as Amora let her hands fall away, "That is wise. She loves a show as well, and will likely linger in the Great Hall or around Thor. Or myself. She has flame red hair, much as you.. She wishes to cause a stir. And wishes to be seen as better than me. So that should keep her occupied. However, if you find yourself around her.. try as best you can to make your excuses."

Amora dragged her hand through a strand of golden blonde from her face, "She won't act out publically unless she can call some insult." Her lips pursed and her gaze scanned over Scarlett again.

"She also is .. she has had deep ties to Loki in the past. Have a care though, she is less trustworthy than I."


Easing her way through the room, Scarlett glides along the floor until reaching a settee. She settles upon the upholstered cushion, barely leaving a dent, her heels pressed together in a modest arrangement. Hunter green wool splays around her, dripping off the seat, split under the curve to reveal high leather boots inlaid by gilded mail. "Redheads have a temper, and our temper oft cannot be controlled." Confirming the task with a slight shift of a smile, she inclines her head.

"You mean to say he took her as a lover, and possibly an ally?" It never hurts to be blunt. "Such is as it is. A tally of those matters I do not begrudge him. She, of course, will see me as a threat."

A pause. "As nigh everyone. How that comes to pass, only Urd can conjecture."


A grimace followed Scarlett's frankness, "Aye, well, she also sees him as a toy. And has no actual care for him. But he is a friend, wicked and untrustworthy as /he/ is.. We've shared a bed before too. But that is neither here nor now." She muttered, folding her arms as she moved to lean against a pillar and watch Rogue.

"Stick near by with either Fandral or Sif tonight if you can manage. If Lorelei sees you near myself.. well, you can draw your own conclusions to that." A sigh followed and Amora rolled her shoulders back.

"Your hair.. drew me to first look at you as more than just another toy, Loki has had a great many of them.. And I have tried to break their minds as a sort of pay back. But you.. reminded me of my sister when she was young. When she was less … what she is. I hadn't seen her in centuries and thought it possible she had died.."


Scarlett does not give Amora the benefit of a rise, or even a flush of rage. Such fair skin betrays not a trace of additional colour, the cream complexion marked by faint impulses from light touching the ice crystal pendant at her throat. "Alas to be bound to such an untrustworthy figure." Deadpan tone, her tone curls around the beginnings of a smile. The seeds are there, if Amora cares to nurture them. "I shall surmise she cares only for herself and what she stands to gain, then, my lady. A wise insight, for I know where I stand."

Shoulders raised, her elbows planted above her knees allow her to lean forward almost comfortably. Supple leather bends along her torso, painting a graceful curve along her back. "I shall, my lady. I will let her assume me vapid and careless, modest and overwhelmed, as all things are. Not worth the trouble."

Her radiant coiling hair is held back in braids, serpent's paths winding in ruby coils that only hint to frost shot through them. "Do I disappoint you not to be her? Or have I earned in your own eyes some independent worth beyond Midgard?"


A laugh escaped Amora, "Ah, but I am neither trustworthy nor kind. All traits that keep the Crown Prince forever beyond my reach." She sighed, and she shook her head. "Loki has been a friend for centuries, but we are much too alike to be anything than passing bedfellows. If you wish to know." She rolled her eyes and looked down. "We snipe at each other constantly."

"But he is the only one I could name 'friend' by any means." She shrugged again, leaning her head back against the pillar.

"You have more than earned your mark in my memory, Scarlett. I shall morn you when your time comes." A pause and she tilted her head to the side, peering over her once more. "You are far more impressive and skilled than my sister ever was or will be. She takes my selfishness to a level beyond ken.."


Mirth skims through the gilded lilt of her voice, shining bright to the ears in that inestimably rich accent of the south wedded to New York. So different from the honeyed rigors of Aesir, Scarlett speaks easily enough. "You act more like siblings than lovers, were one to ask my opinion. That gives you a bond of another kind, a strength that endures through the years. No?"

Friend. Brother. However that turns to pass, she is not bound to judge. Her own position is inestimably more difficult and in so many ways less.

"You are not wholly selfish. You serve Asgard in your fashion, which speaks to a different kind of mettle within you. The rest I will not pretend to know, my lady, but you glow with your own precious light all the same." She gestures at the door, sketching an infinity loop, tail chasing jaws. "Mourn me not, for I intend not to die any time soon. And do I, my chance at immortality stretches far in the company of you and your kin than in my own." Of course it would. She has none.


A quirk of her lips followed and Amora rolled her eyes as she pulled away from the pillar. "Oh, I would hardly call it 'lovers'—finding a means to try to out do the other and really just translate to a physical action." She waved a hand. "But I know that if I needed aid, he'd be there. As you've seen. Yet I am no where near the true bond between him and Thor."

"I am selfish to a fault, darling. I prefer Asgard and its comforts. How else could I ensure that that happens if I don't protect my home?" She arched a brow as she spoke and gestured toward the door.


"Competition. Alas, my lady, I cannot help you upon that front, for there can be little gained via me in competition." Demurring from the possibility, the mortal scion of dreams continues to perch on the settee, her elbows braced on her thighs. The cloak withdraws in its advent slightly as she sits up a fraction, bowing her shoulders backwards. "Of course you have a bond. And the brothers, ah! What else builds the strength of their character than constant friction, and the understanding of a very demanding parent and the unconditional love of the other? I imagine they have endured a great deal in one another's company. I can only hope…"

Then she shakes her head and smiles, covering her lips with her fingertip, as though to silence herself. It very much curbs her tongue.

Wit overrules wisdom. "You couldn't, of course. Nothing like complaining about Asgard and all its troubles without being there, or ever intending to return. It takes off the blush of truth. Though I am curious. You were trained in Nornheim, you said. Where is it?"


Amora approached, bending slightly as she waved her hands, a ghostly image of the world's tree and various glowing balls of light represented the various realms. She gestured between Alfheim and Asgard proper, pointing them out each in turn. "Nornheim is around here… The realms are hard to pin down in exacts that aren't connected directly to the Bifrost. Nornheim is not a realm unto itself entirely, but remains a bit of a pocket realm almost."

"I trained there in my youth, the Queen Karnilla—She's a horrible teacher and task-master. Most of her nobles want to overthrow her and the rest are too frightened to dare.." She made a face, her nose wrinkling up.

"She once forced me to summon fires and put them out for two months. She denied me information and kept me constantly clueless.."


The slim apparition of a tree taking form brings out a measure of knowledge. Scarlett's expression reflects the radiant energy in a fashion, pallor overlaid by watercolour shades that gather under her cheekbones and paint down her lips. "I like to think of them as islands in a sea, if the realm is a sea." Her fingers reach out as she draws a spiral below one of the witchlights, not quite coming close to a threat. "Do not the Norns themselves dwell in such a place, where it lies nearest to the tree? Or is it merely named in their honour?"

The notion of putting out fires for two months does raise her eyebrows. "Sorcerers are strange, naturally, and unpredictable. Drudgery shapes the mind or some such. If he puts me through that, I may just give him a hug."


A chuckle escaped Amora and she inclined her head again. "Aye, the Norns do keep there. But Karnilla herself? She's Asgardian, merely styled herself Queen and dubbed her Kingdom of the Norns. Though she knows better than to attempt to rule the sisters three. They are a power unto themselves and hold no recourse to laws by any realm or power."

She sighed softly, her green eyes reflecting the ghostly glow of her magic back at her and lighting them up in otherworldly hues. "I boiled her fish in the fountain alive for it. She chided me that I should have done more, that anyone can set a fire, but it takes actual skill to /make/ someone else do it for you." Another shrug. "Of course she would refuse to acknowledge my skills and never a word of praise left her lips. She never cared much for my ability to charm men based on beauty either.." Her voice was dry and she tilted her head to the side in thought.

"I believe the Midgardian term these days is a 'bitch'…?"


Politics are not impossible for the redhead to follow, another difference perhaps from Lorelei. At least in the purpose she puts the knowledge to, though the melody running through her brain and her veins begs for release. Run away from this chamber and undo the bonds holding father from son, untangle the tattered alliances beyond and between places. These things she cannot do. "No. The Three Sisters are not beholden to anyone, even I know that. The fates they lay down are their own. Even Zeus Pater fears the Moirai, and perhaps the white god of Christianity bends to their edicts."

Drudgery can be denied in a glance, her mouth twisting into a grim line for but a moment. "Such sounds terrible. I see the intent that you not use your beauty or charisma, and find another method to achieve your aims. The rest, however, leave me rather cold." Scarlett raises her hands and slides from the settee, moving to a table to pour herself water rather than mead. A cursory glance assures no one poisoned her, at least obviously, though it might be rather difficult at best to achieve it. "One day, perchance, I shall see the realm. Maybe. Of any, I think it holds a wonder."


"Karnilla threw me out because of a teenaged temper. She couldn't bare it. So used as she is to everyone following her every whim. I was never afraid of her, and she hated it. I was there for the better part of a few centuries.. and in the end it didn't even cause her to bat an eye at tossing me out." She made a face, dismissing the magic with a twitch of her hands and rising.

"I would not recommend going to Nornheim. Its people there are even more wary of strangers. And there are what Midgardians call demons there, in her service. Along with several magic users indentured to her service."


"Demons in her service?" Oh, this makes for a story. Eyebrows arched, Scarlett purses her lips slightly. "I cannot understand why someone would bind others to their will in such a fashion, truly, my lady. What stands to be gained? Is it merely for the status or some other purpose?"

Finger skimming along her collarbone, she pulls at the cloak around her. "Truly this is a dim prospect. Perhaps by some other method will bring me to the distaff and the spindle."


Another nod, and Amora waved a hand, summoning her golden drinking horn. "Aye, well.. There are reasons why the All-father does not bother to argue with her in terms of her reign." She shrugged, a sigh falling from her lips.

"It's a wretched place. I wouldn't bother yourself with it. Now, I should make an appearance at the festivities.. You should make sure that the Princess has all she needs.." She inclined her head, and made to depart the room.

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