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Amora the Enchantress, the beauty of the Nine realms and witch of Asgard was.. shopping. And not in the manner accustomed to her, for once in her long life she wasn't shopping for herself, but rather for her beloved. Mortal or otherwise, she was attempting to play at the mortal niceties that Donald Blake seemed most familiar with. Rather than summoning up magically clothes for him, or enchanting some poor mortal to give her whatever she wanted.. she was attempting to think about someone else and do so in a way that was … oddly normal.
The blonde was in her usual mortal guise, hair piled high with golden curls and a green sweater dress out of a fashion magazine, with matching black dress coat. Highheels and red lipstick, with black eyelashes completed the look and she still managed to draw the eyes of every passing mortal regardless.
She hefted her purchased easily between her fingers, and walked out of the expensive shop to walk the street with confidence. Though she gave a wide birth to Central Park, the magical energy leaking from that rift in reality was not a wise thing to poke around when she was out, attempting, to pass for a normal mortal.
*
Gods did not often play at the quaint romantic notions of mortals due to their longevity. What is a burden that most humans can't maintain for more than six months of the initial relationship can hardly be managed for millennia or two. And yet, the Varg found herself in much a similar predicament as the Enchantress, slipping out of the high end tailor shop with a dinner jacket freshly hemmed at the sleeve to accommodate Namor's thickly muscled arms. The singular kindness was burden enough for the She-Wolf, and she gave the other Asgardian a run for her money whilst attired as was the night before, save a few additional curls out of place and a jacket to make the ensemble more acceptable to mid-morning errands.
The petite little nose between golden eyes twitched, and she couldn't help but raise a lip in a snarl at the familiar smell of the Enchantress. With her own magic bristling, she turned to consider the crowds of pedestrian traffic, the singular form of beauty and grace materializing as the mortals parted in a mixture of awe and lust like water around immovable stone. Then there were only two of them left on the small stretch of sidewalk outside boutique shops and specialty stores. The vargs teeth shone and her eyes edged with a fresh shade of coal-black liner narrowed as she growled with no particular affection.
"Hello Witch."
*
The blonde curved a smile, slow and predatory in her own way as she eyed the granddaughter of the Trickster Prince. "Well, hello, darling." She arched a golden brow upwards. Her heels sounding a gentle click click against the sidewalk as her gaze dropped to a likewise matching bag on the varg's arm. Amora smelled her usual scent of juniper, strawberries and other various magically entailed enchantments.. but there was something else. The ancient scent of ozone and ever so faint traces that made up a similar scent of the Thunderer.
"Shopping? My, my, whoever for?" She drawled, fluttering her eyelashes.
*
Amora could successfully play at pretty while she was fingering a blade to stick between your ribs. Skali possessed no such subtleties; evidence of her dislike of the other woman in the dilation of her pupils, the little gleam of color that enriched her gaze, and the prickling of her skin as if the hairs themselves were hackling.
Another twitch of her nose, even as she came to pause with a stiffness that did not compliment the rest of her usually graceful prowling, a warning of musculature and posture that would make complete sense in her inhuman form. A smile that was all teeth framed in her next words,
"I know better than to dangle a new toy in front of you."
Not that such subterfuge would be necessary. Skali had but one her heart belonged to, and if only Amora could smell the salt on her skin, there would be no such mystery. Unfortunately only Skali possessed such talents, and the smile broadened in hungry suspicion at what could be pulled off of Amora's scent.
"Though it seems you already have something to occupy your interests. Running errands for someone? Don't they have a secretary for that?"
A clicking of her tongue, and a feigned expression of empathy for just how far the Enchantress had fallen.
*
A smirk continued to play on rosy lips and Amora folded her arms as she eyed the younger Asgardian wolfling before her. "I can always sense love and such bonds, darling. Tis my specialty, if I cared to know what you desired, I would know it." She fluttered those eyelashes that had sent men to war and death for ages past.
"As to my current interest," She wiggled her grip on the bag that pulled between her fingers. "Tis the golden Prince, as it should be." She flashed a grin, teeth flat and white but then again, Amora's threats never came in physical forms.
"And in due time, when he returns to himself and Asgard.." She let it hang there between them.
*
Skali arches a brow at the veiled threat disguised as a truth, holding back a snarl whilst her lips played over a courteous smile. Yet the smile faded at the woman's words, and though she loathed the Enchantress, there was a mote of something akin to pity in the corner of her gaze. As with most of the plans Amora had, this one sounded complicated, duplicitous and doomed to failure. She didn't bother saying that though, instead running a tongue over her painted red lips and querying gently,
"Returns to himself?"
The wolf kept herself well removed from Asgardian politics for a reason, but this intrigued her.
*
A flat look was sent in Skali's way, and Amora sniffed lightly in disdain for the question. "Your grand-sire did something when he was playing regent. Thor fell off the Bifrost and when he was found.. he was not himself. I know naught by what means he is made so, other than it was tied to why your grand-sire was like-wise spread over the Nine Realms." She waved a hand and shrugged, a delicate roll of her shoulders.
"Thusly, the Thunderer lives with me in my home. I am.. attempting to procure things via the mortal system here on Midgard, as a gift for Ostara."
*
Skali weighs the words quietly, skeptical that the Enchantress was telling the truth. Absent her smiles or vapidly cruel inflections, it seemed the only possible alternative. Why Skali did what she did next is difficult to discern, as she had no great love for the other woman (in fact, it was a deep seated loathing), and yet she gestured to the caf across the street and extended a finger in offering.
"A curious predicament. I spoke to Loki on a few occasions while his plans were coming to fruition. If you think I could be of service in returning your prince to his normal self, I can be easily won over with coffee."
The offer hung there, something in the brunette that seemed exceptionally trustworthy despite the smile lingering on her lips, the way her head tilted just so, the casual deference she feigned while waiting for a reply.
*
The offer seemed to throw the blonde off for a minute, two and then she blinked and nodded, gesturing to the indicated path and nodded. "Aye, very well. Let us go." She murmured and started forward with a confident gait, heels clicking with each stride and drawing the eyes of mortals as they passed through. Amora clearly, never had to deal with waiting for traffic to clear, cars stopped when she so much as set a toe out from the sidewalk. Gawking men taking far longer to start their cars once she had passed than strictly necessary.
A sigh pulled at her lips as they entered the cafe, a bell chiming over head. "I know naught what to do in regards to your grandsire. His spellwork is such that he connected memories of himself to people and requires some manner of forgiveness from those that might otherwise seek his death. Or perhaps tis merely the desire to see him returned. I am still trying to unknot his working. He cast it upon myself, and a great many others. Tis most annoying."
*
Skali follows will less ceremony, easily outshone by the woman she was in the company of though it did not chafe at her composure. A wolf does not rely on its beauty to survive, favoring instead wits and sharp teeth. As they entered the cafe, she sunk into a chair, while setting her package over the back of the nearest one. Only when coffee was deposited in front of her did she comment with a knowing nod,
"That certainly sounds like something he would do. Could you not simply make peace? Maybe a nice handwritten note of apology? I know a good stationary shop."
A small flask was pulled from the inner folds of her jacket, unscrewed confidently and dark liquor sloshed into the blacker coffee. Satisfied with the coffee to alcohol ratio, she returned the flask to her jacket and leaned back to listen with the mug held between her fingers, steam wreathing her features as she drew a breath in with low sigh of content.
*
Amora ordered and sat with the most expensive tea available, scones and cream were brought out, bought and paid for by some adoring male in the shop. She smiled waved and returned to her conversation at hand. The Enchantress could be charming if she so desired, rare though that was.
"There is nothing to forgive in regards to the Trickster. Other than he did not lift my banishment and return my powers when he had the chance.. tis a foul thing, for a friend to not aid another." She sighed morosely, sipping at her drink with a furrow of her golden brow.
"Thusly, I know naught what is required truly to solve the state the Trickster is in. He is, to my best knowledge, in rather the same state as the Thunderer, if I had to guess. The issue being, I know not where."
*
Skali holds her quiet in a practiced fashion, a woman accustomed to holding a pencil and taking notes for powerful men instead of being showered in accolades and gifts. The easy way she nodded from time to time, took a sip of her brackish brew, and made a knowing 'hm' noise encouraged conversation and confidence in much the same way a local dog does.
"A mistake to lean too heavily on friendship with that one. Favors are much easier to broker than sentiment."
Yet she shrugged and plucked a scone off the tray, nibbling on it with a disaffected air,
"Why are you in such a hurry to return either of the Odinsons to their natural, arrogant, entitled state?"
*
Amora's lips pursed as she looked down at her tea, "Without clear heirs to Asgard's throne, Asgard looks weak. The fates, the Norns seem to be in a foul temper for whatever it was that Loki cast." She sipped at her tea, green eyes lifting to meet the varg's gaze solidly for a moment and then away.
"Tis a matter of seeing things put back, restoring the balance. I have no love for the Norns, and would see them return to their weavings. It upsets the balance of the seidr magic.. among other things." She murmured, swirling her tea about as if it was wine.
"And I desire the Thunderer returned to himself simply because I desire it." There was a flicker of.. fear or something close to it in her scent as she spoke of that, unknown as the cause exactly was. "Even the hammer is lacking life these days.."
*
Skali refills her coffee, topping it off with the flask's contents before setting down the silver vessel on the table in open offer to share. The predicament was nuanced, overcomplicated, entrenched in deep magic she had no business trying to understand - as were most things Asgardians dabbled in. The wolf heaved a sigh that pretended at inconvenience, dipping the last bite of her scone in sweet cream and popping it in her mouth. Licking away crumbs while she reached for another, she mused idly,
"You have your hands full."
It wasn't an offer so much as an announced consideration of a treaty. The Enchantress would have to ask for assistance though, and it was questionable if her pride would allow for such. Skali drenched the scone in whipped butter and took an indulgent bite.
*
Amora made a vague gesture, she was calmer than before, despite the chaos that surrounded the other Asgardians or perhaps because of it. Perhaps it was simply that she had someone she had striven so hard for in her bed again. Who could say? "Either way, if I attempt to remove the spells, or memories to try to bring them together, they vanish. Gone from the person and from, I can assume, Loki himself when he is brought together." A flicker in her gaze.
Amora the Enchantress could do quite a bit of harm to the Trickster if she so desired. The balance of power in being the strongest caster in Asgard besides the King? Well, at least the Trickster hadn't angered her before his chaos creating mayhem.
"So, now you know." A pause as she considered Skali, "I believe he attached similiar magic to you as well, darling. Do you have any reason to forgive the Trickster yourself?"
*
"No."
The answer was confidently issued as she polished off the second scone and leaned back to sip at the coffee once more, eyeing the other Asgardian over the rim as she breathed in the heady mix of dark roast and whiskey. She avoided direct eye contact, a typical deference of her type that did not translate well in human form. Ultimately her attentions snagged on the window where she weighed the passerbys. Whatever deals and designs the spell's affect obscured from prior to the bifrost's breaking, the underlying loyalty was in her blood and could not be so easily subverted.
"He is what he is, and he does what he does. What is there to forgive if he can only act within his nature?"
A tracery of humor found her lips and she let out a sigh, admitting quietly to the woman she only knew as an enemy,
"Yet there are ramifications to designing such intricate treacheries. I suppose you all suffer them equally now."
*
"I suppose I should thank him, in all honesty. If it comes to pass he returns to himself. After I give a slap of course. He is afterall, the sole reason the Thunderer and Lady Sif were separated and not in fact on their way to the marriage bed." She murmured, "A small thing, but his disruption of their course is the reason why I have my beloved.. in a round about manner of course. Thus I am left curious as to what must occur exactly to unhook the spell and set it on its course.." She shrugged, tossing blond locks back.
"As you and I have nothing to truly forgive, my guess .. is that tis Lady Sif, the Thunderer and those that would otherwise see his death pass forgiveness.."
*
Skali reclaims her flask and tucks it into an inner jacket pocket before a passing serving staff can comment on it, pressing her lips together at the conclusion the Enchantress came to.
"Likely. And yet, if you unravel the spell, their love will be remembered, you will remain exiled and Loki once more distrusted and seated upon a throne of deceit. I hardly think that's beneficial to any of the parties involved, except perhaps Sif and your Beloved."
A slow blink as she seemed to realize something, a wolfish grin stealing over her expression as she chuckled softly,
"Oh my, are you being self-sacrificing in this endeavor? That hardly suits you, Amora."
*
Any other time and Amora might have considered rolling her eyes. "I have aided Doctor Strange in saving, Lady Sif.." She murmured, "At behest of the Thunderer." She sipped at her tea.
"The runes I cast stated that I have won what I sought. A hunt carried to the end. Now I must do the difficult things to keep what hard won ends I desire." She murmured, "If that means to play nice for a time, I shall. Lady Sif will not believe it, nor shall others. The harder they react to my aid before my darling beloved, the more it shall thrust a splinter in their relations. The better if it occurs before his memories do." She arched a brow. "I cannot afford to do otherwise these days."
Another sip of her tea as she eyed Skali. "Tis a hard pressed place position."
*
Skali remains curiously silent as the plot of the Enchantress was laid before her, that curling smile set in the corner of her lips while the woman spoke undeniably familiar. Who said there was no family resemblance? Finishing her coffee, she leaned back in her seat with a languid consideration of the other while she mused,
"What does the Doctor care for Asgardian trysts and treaties?"
And what does a wolf care for these designs? But didn't it feel so good to talk to someone? Wasn't it so easy with a listening ear only occasionally inquiring for more details?
*
Perhaps it was that hard won familiar smile that won the Enchantress over enough to share her plans, perhaps it mattered little to her who knew what game she played. Perhaps it was that there was yet another game with that one which was true. Who could say? Plans and plots and schemes that might pan out or not. It was no small wonder why the Trickster and the Enchantress played together as children.
"He cares only in as much as its impact to the realms. And well, should I win my beloved's heart and become his Queen?" She smiled and fluttered those eyelashes of her's.
"He hardly cares for me given how he dislikes his reactions to my presence when I attempt to woo him." She grinned, "He denies his moment of weakness, but all men who have interest in others share it. He simply dislikes it greatly and thus I do adore rattling him so."
*
Skali shakes her head in a mild state of wonder, recalling her brief meeting with Strange's mate and the heat of magic her scent carried. Then again, she was no Sorcerer or Enchantress. It was not a game she would play lightly though, and her expression said as much.
"Odin would never allow it."
And in that truth, there was a sadness to her voice, some measure of empathy that was impossible to feign,
"Love is usually a sentiment royalty cannot indulge in. No matter how strong or well-earned."
*
A sniff and she sipped at her tea. "I am a Lady born and bred. Of Asgard. I am the best at magics and the most beautiful of all the realms. I was trained by Karnilla herself, the only apprentice she has taken in her long like. Norn Queen and recognized as such by Asgard. Seeing as Thor himself was willing to settle for some no named mortal Princess who'd been exiled and the All-father approved.. I am not so horrible nor unworthy so as to be cast asunder."
She crossed her legs, self assured that the only block to her being Queen eventually being Thor's desiring it.
"And besides the Queen does not dislike me so, if it came to it." Another sip as she eyed Skali, arching a brow. "The only barrier being my exile currently. Which could be undone by the Queen's own words from previous days." Frigga had stated that Amora was to serve Thor's intended, till they married or she became Queen.. If that intended happened to be herself? Well, words like that are binding after all..
*
Skali sighs as she finishes her own coffee, setting it aside and waving off a refill as she regarded the self-assured woman. There was nothing in Amora that would know humility, no matter what exile and tribulations were set before her. Ladies were born, bred and then suffered by everyone around them. The varg drew out a cigarette and lit it calmly, taking a deep draw and blowing it away from the parcel still awaiting delivery to Namor's penthouse suite.
"It seems you have it all well in hand."
The grey tendrils of smoke played through those dark curls as the wolfling watched her calmly, waiting patiently for any admittance to the contrary.
*
A shrug, a toss of golden curls and Amora leaned back in her chair. "Tis a balancing act. The runes made it clear. There will be turmoil within the family and without if I do not take heed of the runes." She murmured softly, her brows pinching faintly in consideration.
"Hence my attempts to play the .. hmm, hero as it were. To aid the Thunderer without his memories as best I can without ensorcelment. Though," A pause, "I still am unsure whether my magics ensnare him or not. They never worked upon Thor himself before, and I know not if as he is .. he is able to rebuff them. Or if he simply without memories enough to be cautious in returning to my bed." She mused, propping up her chin with a hand.
*
Skali murmurs with a faint smirk,
"I never was good at hero. You will have to tell me how it goes."
The words were spoken on an exhale of cigarette smoke, and she knocked some of the ash into the waiting tray that occupied every table in the small establishment. "Chastity then?"
There was a dubious cast to her voice, skepticism in its finest as a brow quirked.
*
A lift of her brow followed and she shook her head. "Oh darling hardly. He desires me, there is no chastity involved whatsoever. As he stands I am quite pleased to find that.. whether tis my magic or no.. he has no qualms living in my apartment and sharing my bed. The problem that I cannot seem to puzzle out is .. well, is it my magic that makes him so or not?" A shrug followed, a delicate roll of her shoulders.
"I suppose it matters not in the end.."
*
"Doesn't it?"
Skali regarded Amora thoughtfully, that cruel intelligence that predators possess picking apart the shrug, the little half laugh, the pretending at deference to inevitability. The thin lipped humor weakened and she looked momentarily pitying before taking another drag on the cigarette.
"If it is enchantment, then you will lose him as soon as he returns to himself. If it is not, then when you lose him to Odin's decree or Sif's affections, then you will have lost the only man that can love you without magic."
Now it was her turn to roll back her own shoulders as she set her feet on the ground and moved to stand with a toss of her thick hair. She let the words wash over the two of them, as hollow and empty as affections anchored in enchantments. The parcel destined from Namor was collected up and she paused, regarding Amora with a small shake of her head,
"I hope you find what you are looking for, Enchantress. Should Loki need my aid, do not hesitate to call upon me."
*
The words aimed too true, too near to the heart of how Amora feared things would turn in the end. How they always had. Full lips thinned, and it took a significant effort to not snarl at the varg. For she knew at the root of the matter, the words were not Skali's invention after all. Not when she herself had thought them herself.
"Aye," A tightness had come to her voice and she nodded, it was an effort for her to not lash out at the person that spoke of such tender subjects. Her weakness had shown itself, and there was that primal urge to batter down whatever knew of it.
"I shall keep such in mind with regards to the Trickster. He has contingency plans, and we are members of such. Safe roads, and good hunting, Skali."
*
Skali averts her eyes as she notes the tension running through the Enchantress. While usually keen to exploit a weakness in one she considered enemy, this time the wolf held a submissive cast to her eyes, watching the traffic amble by outside in slowing currents with the closure of the lunch hour. When the kind dismissal perked her ears back to Amora, it was with a softened expression and a curt nod, unwilling to delve deeper into the emotions strained between the two of them, and all too well known by both.
Thus she left the Lady with the bill, finding her way back to a penthouse suite already abandoned, a note waiting for her that excused her for the evening as they could not raise suspicions of preference between some unknown commoner and a Prince of Atlantis. His carefully tailored jacket was left, and Skali found a dark bar within which to indulge in too much dark liquor while politics and advantageous positioning was pondered.
*