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*
Amora the Enchantress stretched out languidly on the plush mattress, the sun streaming in from the tall windows as the sun warmed the room. The curtains thrown back to let in the light. She had grown bored of waiting, and also knew for sure the best way to rid herself of Heimdall's eyes was to simply be in a position that most would avert their gazes from: naked and in bed.
An old trick, but one that Amora knew would work best when it came to the gate guardian and her—why expend magic for something so simple? Granted it didn't keep out other prying eyes or ears.
A yawn followed as Amora turned over, pulling blankets atop her figure as she stretched out beneath them, a book summoned to her hand from her own private collection, as she started to read idly.
New York was so pedestrian, so she had been quite pleased to find the castle Mordo had. It didn't tickle her fancy as much as Greece had, but it was acceptable.
*
Castle Mordo.
Jewel of the Mordo family… or so it is written in some of the books of lore to be found around the world. Situated in a mountainside overlooking one of the richer valleys in Transylvania — richer as in agriculture, greenery, and beauty — it was built so the 'masters' could easy survey the peasants working literally under them.
Oddly enough, this had never appealed to Mordo himself. True, he had always wanted power — still does — but to him the true value of the castle lies in the fact that it is built upon a nexus of leylines.
That is where the real power lies.
The baron enters the bedroom wearing a simple tunic of green, but flanked by a pair of golems — constructions of earth, animated by magic — and he tilts his head to the side, smiling.
"I'd ask how you found this place — and gained entry," says he with a wry smirk tugging at his lips, his eyes on Amora's body beneath those covers. "But I confess that I find myself rather… not caring." He nods aside to the golems, bidding them depart.
"How may I entertain you this morning, my dear?" he inquires in deceptively placid tones.
*
A whisper of silken sheets follows as Amora turns over, shutting her book and settling it on her stomach as she reclined back against the mountain of pillows. A sultry smile pulled at her lips and she patted the bed beside her invitingly. "Well, that is a tantric secret of mine. I found Loki while he hid here on Midgard for over a century and none else in Asgard could find him. Feel naught against your ability darling, and accept that only I am aware of it."
Green eyes glittered with amusement as she tilted her head to the side, blonde hair pillowed around her features like a golden halo. "Besides, I've things I wanted to discuss with you, and I always find that a bed makes for the best place to hold conversations."
*
"Oh, you do, do you?"
Mordo knows his game; he knows it well — but from the tantalised, if slightly dubious, expression upon his swarthy features, it surprises him how little cares. It is not unlike being drawn in toward the most beautiful, carnivorous plant knowing it will devour him…
Which, one supposes, would make Mordo… the fly.
Good Lord. The baron gestures with his fingers toward one of the nearby cabinets, causing the doors to open and a bottle of his finest liquor to float out — accompanied by two glasses. Sitting upon the edge of the bed, he telekinetically pours both drinks and sends one over toward Amora.
The bedroom doors shut, but he leaves the curtains open. It is, after all, a beautiful morning. "Far be it from me to keep you from getting anything off your chest, my dear," says he, smirking over the rim of a glass full of a liquor not-of-this-world.
*
Another heated smile pulls at the Asgardian's lips as she takes the offered drink and shifts on the bed, rolling onto her side and curving her body round toward his own. There was a certain amount of cat-like grace to her mannerism, to herself satisfaction as she sipped at her drink and let his eyes roam over her figure. She was quite possibly preening with the attention he gave her.
"Well, I had a visit with Doctor Strange after you'd mentioned him before." She murmured over the rim of the glass, "I asked him whatever it was that was between you.. and well," A smirk, "He was quite heated. Practically threw a fit over it. I have never seen a man's aura vibrate like that. It was fascinating." She ran her tongue over her lower lip, arching a golden brow upwards as she tilted her head toward him.
"So, darling, I am now utterly curious as to what has him so heated. A man that prides himself so foolishly on mastering his emotions like that.." She tsk'ed under her breath.
*
"That, my dear, is the problem," Karl replies with a faint sigh, the corner of his lips pinched together in reproach aimed at Stephen Strange. "Pride. Blindness. I shan't bore you with the details," he adds evasively. The baron sips more of his drink and goes about removing his boots — without touching them, of course.
Then he sits further onto the bed, with his back against the pillows and headboard. "Why so intrigued? It is merely that I managed to get under Stephen Strange's skin so much? Did our little… disagreement amuse you, Enchantress?" Karl's eyes glint with curiosity, studying Amora's features.
*
A curl of her lips follows as Amora shifts closer to him, reaching out her free hand to trace over his robed figure. "Mmm, yes. It did. It amuses me greatly to see someone else besides myself evoke a reaction out of the man that leaves him so frazzled." She pulled her lower lip between her teeth, and took another sip of her drink.
"Of course my great accomplishment means I made him blush and continue to do so — a puzzle to his apprentice who has come to ask me teach her the ways of.." Her eyes flickered low over his figure, "Desire and lust and love.. and all the little things in between. Such an innocent and easily manipulated girl. I've worked out a means of bringing her with me to Hel when Lady Sif of Asgard seeks to venture there on some fool's errand." A roll of her shoulders as Amora peers up at him from beneath black eyelashes.
*
"Indeed…" Mordo agrees, leaning his head back a bit — thinking of Strange and the Maximoff woman. Wanda. "Although I confess my desire was to teach rather than manipulate… but that was part of the lesson. It was… much too easy. A shame."
He pauses a bit there, and idly reaches out to run his fingers through Amora's lustrous blonde hair, if she doesn't object. "You mentioned Hel — what is transpiring in the Asgardian realm of the Dead? Should I be concerned?" He smirks faintly.
"Perhaps I should accompany you — who knows what one might find there…"
*
A sigh pulls from her lips as Amora shifts to rest her head against his shoulder, a faint pout tracing her lips. Yet she allows him the idle movement he makes to run his fingers through her hair. Green eyes briefly fluttering shut before she opened her eyes and lifted her gaze up to him. "I have taught a great many mortals in past years long since forgotten and buried to time's reach. Though, his current apprentice asked for my aid in learning the art of flirtation. A simple request, and easy enough but.." She tiled her head as if in a mock shrug.
"As far as Hel? I know not. I am bound in service to the current woman to own the Thunderer's heart, and she has not spoken of the why.." At his mention of accompanying her she wiggled closer, a grin pulling at her ruby lips and she reached up a hand to curl along his jaw line.
"How sweet of you to offer, currently, I'm unsure exactly what I should do there.. Entirely it depends on what Lady Sif means to do.."
*
"'Bound in service', my dear…" murmurs the baron with a light frown upon his face. He continues playing with Amora's hair while he speaks. "One wonders how that came about. None of the legends speak of the Lady Sif as… a sorceress."
He pauses to sip more of his drinking, looking into Amora's face as if trying to puzzle her out (while at the same time enjoying the view).
*
A shrug, a rise and fall of her eyebrows adding to the effect as she shifted a leg and pulled herself over top of him and settled herself flat against him. "No, she is not. But the Queen of Asgard is able to call upon magic and word and law.. She needs no magic to bind me. Her word on Asgard, is seconded only to the All-father. If I broke her service? Well." She made a face.
"And so I am doomed to follow her 'request' and heed her words."
*
"I understand," says Mordo as he lays an arm around the most beautiful woman in Nine Realms. "Such oaths are ironically more binding that those more chimerical in nature. Even so, there are ways to circumvent the more unpleasant aspects of service…"
He trails off at that, distracted by Amora.
"I suppose this means you'll have to stay relatively close to the Lady Sif, to heed her summons," he goes on to say… then a smile crosses his swarthy features.
"In the meantime, I have a proposal. I'd like to secure a… present for an old friend of mine, although it is heavily guarded. How do you feel about a… little getaway, just the two of us? A diversion, if you will?"
*
Amora snuggled in quite pleased as he settled an arm over her back and she flashed him a grin. "Indeed, I do. Well, relatively. The woman can teleport and often does not desire my presence at all. The benefits of having been rivals for thousands of years.." She shrugged lightly, a smirk pulling at her lips as she traced delicate fingers over his jawline again.
"I do think a diversion would be simply lovely, darling. Do tell me more about this little venture. Color me curious.." She practically purred, green eyes lighting up with deep amusement and flickering with a mischievous intent.
*
The baron's dark, emerald eyes glint and he runs a finger through Amora's hair once again, tracing it down her neck to her shoulder. "Let us just say, I once had this friend who needs to learn some important lessons — he doesn't believe it right now, but he is still my friend, and I'd like to… offer a gesture in that spirit."
The man pauses, smirking.
"It will, of course, also keep him on his toes — if we play this little game correctly, it will have him pulling his hair out. Now, as to the gift itself…"
Mordo goes quiet for a moment, so he can run a hand down Amora's back, smiling. "Many years ago, this friend and I were supposed to retrieve some items of value from Plane-Lord in the dimension of Ni. My friend… thought himself powerful enough to accomplish this on his own, and left without me."
The man smiles, and strokes Amora's back once more. "He failed. I thought we should succeed where he did not."
*
A small 'mmm' leaves Amora as he runs his hand down her neck and shoulder, her eyes closing in an utterly feline like manner. Her own gaze opened to a slitted vein of green as he spoke, a smile curving at her lips, cruel and wicked and utterly pleased with the direction of both his affections and his words.
"I am interested.." She murmured, her voice soft and low and just the right hint of lust that drove the men that heard it wild. "Very interested." She added, stretching out a top him with her hands reaching up to trace idle patterns on his shoulders and up to curl around the nape of his neck.
"Tell me about these items."
*
The attention… is not lost on Mordo, nor is it unappreciated. Chuckling a little, and now struggling to keep his mind on the conversation — rather than 'other' distractions — he clears his throat and says:
"There were three — a trophy horn of a Greater Boarwartz, a necklace of priceless sunstones, and the personal diary of a sorcerer long-since dead. Their sentimental value may outweigh the monetary or magical, but they are very valuable all the same. I've no interest in acquiring riches, and neither does my friend… the message of seeing these items, however, will haunt him for ages to come."
And perhaps show that I AM still his friend… all things considered. Mordo's smile falters at the thought — just briefly — and he goes quiet, still stroking the Enchantress' skin.
*
Amora shifted, pushing herself upwards just ever so slightly as he spoke of each artifact in turn. A delicately, manicured hand pressing against her collar bone as she fluttered her eyelashes up at him. "I have a bit of a weakness for necklaces you know.. what do you think? Would it suit me, darling?" She coo'ed, leaning forward to brush her lips against his cheek.
"What's the trick to getting these things, hmm? I assume you must have a plan that you have yet to put into motion. Otherwise you'd not bring such a thing up to me.." She whispered, her breath tickling his skin as she leaned back and eyed him.
"And who is your darling friend that you speak of..?"
*
"Well, it is advantageous that you should mention that," says Mordo with an ever-blooming smirk on his face. "The necklace, that is, my dear. You see, you've already become acquainted with this friend of mine, and given that he has lacked the forethought to accept your most-welcome advances… I thought perhaps, once we have secured these items… he should see you, wearing the necklace…"
Of course, there's only one person of whom the baron could be speaking now. "What say you, Enchantress? How do you think the great Stephen Strange will react in that moment? We succeed where he failed, and he shall a moment to appreciate… missed opportunities."
He pauses to look into Amora's eyes.
"This particular Plane-Lord has a weakness for beauty — although he himself is… much less-so. He also likes to underestimate females… and he has never met one quite so potent as you. He will have heard of me, though, so… I shall have to go in disguise. Do you fancy a bit of a masquerade, my lady?"
*
A cackling laughter, full throated and wicked pulled from the Enchantress as she sat up, her hands pressed against his chest to levy herself upwards to grin down at him. "Oh darling, that is simply divine." She breathed, curving her hands around his features to cup his jaw line and lean in for a heated kiss.
"I am delighted to be included in such merriment indeed. Oh, I am utterly amused. Yes, I am quite in favor of such a charade." She laughed again, tossing her golden locks over her bare shoulder as she shifted.
"When shall we carry out our little scheme?"
*
Mordo smiles at Amora's laughter.
It is not merely for the scheme in which they are indulging, or merely the pleasure at having pleased her… he does enjoy the sound of her laughter. Her question, however, causes his smile to turn into a lopsided smirk… and suddenly the ties and buttons of his tunic begin to come undo — all seemingly of their own accord.
He puts both his arms around his lover and croons in her ear: "As soon as we've enjoyed another diversion for the time being…"
*