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Midafternoon in the city, just the perfect time to take a cup of tea and nibble on a sandwich, watching the world go by. For the working class, it's a time of doldrums and planning dinner. For executives, they might be wandering back from a late liquid lunch to yell at their secretaries. Scarlett, on the other hand, sits on a pretty chair at a conservatory in the botanical gardens in Brooklyn, awaiting that blonde trickster wandering hither and fro through the realms. No one else bothers her here, in part because the private event in another part of the gardens gets the lion's share of attention and a girl drinking a black tea shot by lavender amidst the foliage really deserves little notice.
She drops another sugar cube into the cup and refills the level up to the brim, setting aside the fat ceramic pot on the table. Greener than green eyes assess her surroundings, but she is patient. Warm and infused by the living pulse of the natural world around her, she can afford to be.
*
In a haze of verdant smoke, Amora appeared, just as if she'd been sitting there all along in her own chair beside the redhead. An amused smile tugged at her lips as she reclined, mortal guise in effect with blonde curls framing her face in perfect symmetry. "Hello darling," She purred, head tilted in an arrogant angle that just screamed delight and self-importance as was her wont.
"How are you?" A brow hooked upwards, "Have you had any run ins with things or people of interest?"
*
A toss of the runes and what might come up? The scattering of fates or a diviner's wishes imposed on the interpretation? Scarlett hasn't called on the runes at this moment, though she likely read them earlier, and her lips tighten a fraction on the rim of the cup as hot liquid brushes against her tongue. Needlessly hot; she can't resist the flavour imparted by the brew, rich and slightly floral without becoming overwhelming. Thus as Amora manifests, she sets aside her mug upon its paired saucer.
"Everyone I meet is of interest, my lady," she replies, raising her palm. "Well met. Would you care to join me?" Such are the niceties in their exchange, and she settles back into her seat, back straight and feet tucked to the side. "I did wonder how your research goes, and whether you teased out any mysteries on high. Have you word of the Golden City and its current state? My understanding is the roads once more are opening, the paths of the wild and the other routes restored. Though nothing of the Bifrost, as yet."
*
A shrug, a simple rise and fall of Amora's shoulders beneath a ruff of white fur. "I know not, other than Brunnhilde returned to Midgard and her body. Beyond such I have not teased out simple truths from her. I shall though." She grimaced faintly over the rim of her cup of.. something sweet smelling. Though it was in a tea cup of beautiful roses etched in gold, it wasn't tea.
"I have been otherwise occupied." She murmured, "I have yet to traverse beyond to find the purpose in Loki's schemes."
*
"I see." The redhead tilts her head slightly at the fragrance lifting off the other brew, though her own will suffice more than enough for her palate. "What is the state of the golden city? I doubt they will establish another embassy openly in New York, though you still have the deed to the building. The royal court, that is." Her gaze flickers across the lush foliage gathered upon the fringes of the conservatory, huge palms and great fatsia bushes spilling thick green leaves like elephant ears from their stalks. "Would you care to share what business so enraptures the likes of you? I doubt you should care to hear much regarding the nature of my coursework."
*
A smirk widened over ruby lips and Amora shifted in her seat, recrossing her long legs. "Well the Thunderer, or would be Thunderer occupies me. What else?" She arched a brow. "The Valkyrie seems to think him Thor, and I am inclined to agree. Memories or not.." She tailed off, musing slightly to herself.
"What else could demand so much of my time and .. not earn my ire." She sipped at her drink, reclining.
"He has taken to working at the nearby Hospital."
*
Never mind has more hospitals than a girl can shake a stick at, though the news settles upon Scarlett readily enough. She dips her head and regards Amora the way an art historian studies the Mona Lisa or another similar valuable piece of portraiture, something to be examined in minute detail for an understanding of the artist's techniques and underlying meanings. It's not as though the woman is hard upon the eyes, anyways.
"I hope he is content with whatever he does. Turning his attention to healing? That seems a noble and enjoyable cause."
*
Amora gave another dip of her head and rise and fall of her delicate shoulders. "I know not if he is successful in such games, but he chooses to spend his days there." The unspoken, he spends his nights with me, was glaringly obvious in the blonde's overly satisfied smile.
"I'm quite content to work on these little spellcrafts and see what can be done in regards to Loki's works. But in the meantime, I have every intention of enjoying myself." A cool sip, and she met Scarlett's eyes with wicked glee.
*
Scarlett breathes in the richly oxygenated air and allows the greenery to modulate her moods, as easily as any. "As long as he is content, all is well. The events of the past year have entitled any caught in the maelstrom to bright sunshine and friendly seas, however they should spend them." She says no more on that front, content to let the matter lie. Where Donald Blake spends his nights is really none of her concern, provided there aren't wolves stalking him, enemies seeking him out, and threats for which he is ignorant and unprotected besieging his doors. Those will come soon enough.
"Loki's works. In what sense? Has he gone and spell trapped half of Midgard, or are there protections fallen further still that continue to niggle the security of the realms?" That brings her eyebrows up slightly.
*
Amora leaned forward, setting her cup aside gently and it vanished in a puff of green smoke as soon as it was set aside. "Loki attached.. if you will, magic to individuals throughout the realms. You, me.. the elemental, and the young lady in Muspell, to name a few. I have gathered.. whatever it is such a spell is meant to do. I have yet to figure it out part and parcel, however I know the intent behind it. A back up plan, yes? I cannot break the spells, merely move them, Scarlett. For he used the All-father's staff to create the spellwork." She frowned.
"I know not what else to do beyond gathering the parts to see the whole…"
*
"Indeed, I took note of that. He created a spell as a safeguard, likely, for distributing the seeds of a garden across the realms makes a safer foundation than putting all one's eggs in a single basket, or even two. Enemies can find those eggs particularly easily, and they would have no qualms about tearing down whatever protection to obtain them." The redheaded bohemienne bounces her heel lightly above her crossed legs, measuring out the tempo of a song only played in her head. "Hazarding the guess attempting to break the spell would curse you on a great level, let's consider the logistics of other possibilities. You are gathering up these spells. Are they taking on physical form? Have you imbued them anywhere or do you hang them in your aura, in a gem in your household, or are they floating about somehow? What would you expect him to do with them, or what would you do with the spell, had you fashioned something to secure yourself?"
*
Amora reached up to comb a manicured hand through golden locks in a seemingly distracted manner. "I have been carrying them in my own aura. Which is where they sit upon each person as I have found them. I fear moving the spellwork off an aura for they might yet be disturbed to some other medium. I know not what Loki meant by doing this.. for I know not if he is dead or not. Other than.. simply no longer here.." She raised her hands and spread her finger tips wide as she spoke.
"I have many such plans within spells. But I would not spread them so. There is no means for them to be returned together, for none would search for such in regards to myself. I search for answers. Loki would not care." Her lips pursed together.
"It may yet be a summonings, or pieces of his life force. Perhaps memories or shards of his personalities. Even perhaps past Tricksters of other demesnes. I know naught. For he did not include me in his tricks or schemes."
*
"I would be concerned about maintaining them in another form, though you might be able to place them in something strongly keyed to Loki's own signature or sympathetic connection. I know the very thing, though I would need to locate it in the first place. Laevateinn, the thorn, his sword." Scarlett leans forward slightly and puts her palm under her chin. "It lacks the might of Gungnir or Mjolnir, but without doubt that would suit. Anything else is too risky. Thus I seek your permission for us to obtain the sword, wherever it may be, even if in fragments. It is, within a sense, owned by none and therefore I claim it as weregild for a life destroyed. Its purpose would suit for this, at any rate. We could determine if the spells can go into that, which gives a much more specific focus."
*
A nod, "I dislike holding the spellwork on my own aura. Tis a risk indeed, for whatever it is intended I know not. Thus, I agree whole heartedly with you, Apprentice. Aye. I give you full permission and aid to do so. You've use of my kitchen for such works if you have need." She sat back, and a goblet appeared in her hand. Mead apparent in this drink that she sipped at.
"The sword would be a good tool indeed. And allow us a better chance at tracking more of his works. Like to like.."
*
Discretion may be the surest form of survival. "I shall no doubt require your aid, lady, for even if I located the missing object, I cannot necessarily retrieve it on my own." Bitter pill for the girl, whose capacity at magic is a long, distant thing. Her breath trembles on her lips and she draws out that long plume of a sigh. "Precisely. It becomes the magnet, and thus, something more malleable in its purpose."
*
Amora sighed, sipping at her mead and inclining her head. "Aye, I understand my dear. Fear not, I shall not abandoned you in this little venture. I am curious and it is not as if I have aught to keep me during the days." She winked, grinning wickedly over the rim of her goblet.
"We also have the other realms to look through. Alfheim shall be easy enough." She mused, swirling the contents of her drink about.
*
"Were it possible to simply absorb a book, I would do that, and be the scourge of every library known. It is unseemly to be so vexed by the absence of suitable talent, but there is a certain nuisance to it. Alas. I am what I am." Irritated, to be sure, and that is that. "Alfheim will not be difficult, but Svartalfheim? I have an idea on that front, which is that I can pass for one of them easily enough with few enough modifications." Delightful, turning her into a dark elf is not going to win any friends. "Though I wonder that Loki would have descended there. He has no love for that place, so far as I ever knew."
*
"The dark elves value cunning, wisdom, and magic. They're too alike. Their courts are, typically speaking, filled with more back stabbing and plots than others. They value strength, aye, but strength of skill." She smirked, "I might have had a lover or two in my younger days that hailed from there. Their magic knowledge is impressive." She murmured.
"If any of the princes would be able to work diplomatically with the dark elves, it would be the dark Prince. However, since his play for power I doubt they would openly welcome him there. Too much of an upset in regards to the balance of power.. Though he could've courted stronger diplomatic ties there. I know naught. T'would be hard since the Bifrost was destroyed.." She mused, tapping her fingers against the table top.
*
"And of the dark rainbows that stretch into nocturnal places?" asks Scarlett, drawing the last of the tea from the pot. She peers into the cup as the leaves dance in suspension, devoid of much warmth, settling into patterns as they would. It's possible to divine something from them, assuredly, but she is not much inclined towards doing so. "I see, so Svartalfheim. Something subtle or well-defended, for all I know. I doubt highly the spell would lead to someone tolling the bridge, if such exists, but who knows? 'Tis a grand adventure, when one is all but cotton headed to these things."
*
Amora nodded, a wave of her hand following. "Aye the dark ways are not unknown to Loki, nor to my self. We were both.. young at a time and interested in exploring such things." She heaved a sigh, leaning back in her chair.
"Such things could be used, what I speak though, is that as King, or acting King he would've had a harder time to leave so often and not be noticed.." She worried her lower lip.
"Which makes me think this spellwork may have been laid years ago. I doubt this plan of his was spur of the moment." She muttered.
*
A shrug answers Amora's query. "Survival has ever been important to someone who sits on a throne. Only the mad or unwise contemplates a world without risk, where there may not be a need to find safe haven for a time. What sort of life does a man like the Prince lead, where he must resort to such extreme measures? I think we know." Scarlett's bedimmed gaze turns upwards towards the sky and will not retreat, not for a long stretch of time.
"Do you suppose he wants to regain himself? Is there a possibility that he does not, the same as with the Thunderer? Nothing happens without reason. There could always be a tie there we haven't contemplated, that this pause and this loss are connected. One descends, the other goes with him. One chooses not to remember, and the other cannot. For you must know that one brother will always seek the other, in the way of sun and moon following one another, and light chasing after the dark. It is merely a possibility, despite their hurts. If this is the only way to keep the peace, despite whatever happened in Asgard." There, she pauses, the frustration responsible for forcing her hands into her lap. It wouldn't do to crumble the teacup to sand in her hands.
"Or perhaps that one wouldn't go after the other for retribution. What happened up there? Have you ever discovered? Where are Fandral, Sif, Volstagg? Who might tell us anything? Norns' tears, it is a wretched state to be so unaware."
*
Amora paused, and slowly set the goblet down on the table before her. She held her tongue for the briefest of moments, hands folding over to prop up her chin. "I know not, nor can I pretend to know, or comprehend the ways in which the Trickster Prince sought to work himself. I know not what occurred in Asgard's golden streets. Nor what it was that he sought besides dominion over all. I doubt however, given that the Thunderer was lost over the Bifrost's edge to the abyss that it was well intentioned."
A sigh pulled from her lips and she dipped a pinkie into the mead, then drew a circle around on the table between them.
"We know Heimdall was injured. We know Thor fell in battle, cast off the edge of the rainbow path. We know naught what happened to Lady Sif, nor Fandral or others loyal to the Thunderer. Other than they are not present and not accounted for. One can make certain assumptions." She lifted her gaze to Scarlett and frowned.
"I know little, and aye it galls in the worst of ways. But 'tis the Norns plan. Or so we should hope. For they are up in arms over these events. Which leads me to believe thusly: that we have come unbound from the tapestry of fate.."
*
"We can assume that does the All-Father rule, then the Warriors Three are either imprisoned in disgrace for failing in their foremost duty: defending the Prince." A finger raised to the fine bone of her wrist leaves Scarlett considering. "Or that they fell in battle, doing the very thing. Perhaps Thor dispatched them and they remain imprisoned or unable to return to Asgard. Sif would be able to travel, one would think, but Fandral hasn't ever suggested he could get about without the Bifrost Bridge. And seeing Heimdall was earthbound, that limits their opportunities." Thoughts drift away to a spectral corner of the universe, then return at the speed of thought, exceeding light, but drifting back and forth.
Her fingers slip together again, and she arches a brow. "Unmoored from the Norns' weaving? That would suggest they could not foresee all ends, or continue weaving. Even at Ragnarok, they have predicted that and what lies beyond. Are you certain of that? How would the Norns be up in arms? It has always seemed they did not intercede. Used that… woman…" Oh, memories of the court burn hot, plucked like coals from the fire. "But rarely otherwise."
*
A shrug and Amora traced a rune like shape in the table. "What else would drive the Norns to such an uproar save that the tapestry has been endangered in some way? Aye, I know that such a thing may seem impossible, but if it were?" She arched a brow and exhaled a slow breath.
"If the warriors three are alive and hale in Asgard they would be unless otherwise ordered by the All-father. Given.. that they are not here? I shall assume the worst." She waved a hand and the mead vanished in a flicker of light.
"I know not. There are too many tangles. Too many knots. My attempts to gain answers are severely limited."
*
"Define uproar. Have they come to you? Have they raised a threat against Asgard, which would be particularly strange? I haven't read anything of that in the historical annals of Asgard, nor did anyone ever say such to me in stories. I gave poor Fandral the third degree when he was teaching me, poor man," and indeed, he really did get a fair bit when she was bothering him about translations. The bohemian's thoughts go no further than that, and center back upon the Enchantress.
*
A frown and Amora lifted her hand up from the table, a tiny sprite of air tumbling forth to float upon the wind between them. "I know not, what it means beyond what I have heard. The other sprites have told me thusly, or near enough. I await Brunnhilde's word on such." She murmured.
"When I speak with her, then you too, apprentice shall know. Though, best believe that I do not trust the Valkyrie to speak plainly. Much less truthfully with me." She shrugged and tossed back her hair as she gestured to the sprite.
"Use this little one as you require if you wish to track down more of the elementals in this world and question them."
*
The shadows shift with the movement of the sun, and Scarlett absorbs what knowledge she has obtained, giving a subtle nod. "You have no reason to believe the Valkyrie will speak clearly to you? I can try to speak with her. We have been acquainted and she has no reason to think me enemy or maligned, beyond whatever she thinks about mankind. I do not presume." Her eyes slant almost closed, and she sits forward, looking into the emptied teacup.
The sprite is given a perch, at least, her gloved hand held out for the little being to land upon her fingertips. In this she is surpassing gentle, allowing the wind elemental to gather what perch where it will. "I shall. There are places to go and things to ask which might be useful. Though, as ever, we're chasing shadows a month after the eclipse."
*
A nod, "Do so. We have … a complicated history. But suffice to say, she shares little sympathy for me. I blame her not. But I trust her not either. Aye, speak with her and gain what knowledge you might." A glance to the little elemental that floated along the perch that Scarlett offered it.
"Very good." A yawn and Amora leaned back in her seat.
"I've places to seek, another time, Apprentice." She murmured and vanished in a green burst of smoke.