1964-07-22 - Tempting
Summary: Hercules stops by the Asgardian Embassy
Related: The last time Amora and Hercules met up
Theme Song: None
amora hercules 

Hercules arrives at the Asgardian Embassy, glancing around the place with a bit of amusement. How strange, the way the Asgardians seemed to be working to fit into this strange new world. The Olympians remained as they usually were, more aloof and prone to keeping to themselves. They had never been quite as much 'of the people' as their northern cousins.

Hercules reaches into his pocket, drawing out the heart-shaped charm that Amora have given him, stroking his thumb along the silver contours in the manner she prescribed, "Amora, Goddess, I summon you, for the Prince of Power has been lacking in good company of late," he says, knowing the charm will carry his words to her.


A guard by the door seemed ready to go question Hercules what his business was at the Embassy, beofore a glitter of green light appeared and Amora ghosted into being. Within the sheen of sunbeams, between one blink and the next she was there. And she was in her element. A green gown of a material so thin it was practically not there. It hung off her shoulders and was mostly held up around her middle via a belt of woven gold, dripping with emeralds at the tassles in beads. From her ears dripped a matching tear drop shaped gem that flashed in the sunlight.

Golden hair tumbled in waves down her back, and a tiara of gold was woven between braids heavily decorated with ribbons of verdant hues. She tossed her hair with a flick of her hand, offering Hercules a smile. "Hello darling, you know, summoning me on the front porch is rather pointless. I was just a room over." She murmured, fluttering dark eyelashes. A hand held out in offering. "Come, you're most welcome in the mead hall."


Hercules moves to follow along, a grin on his bearded face, "Milady, if the Son of Zeus were to step too far in here without an escort, some might interpret as an act of aggression from Olympus. I was never good at politics, but I try to avoid accidentally starting wars. My people have a history of doing such things, especially over beautiful woman," he says.

"I have never said no to mead in my thousands of years and I have no intention of beginning now," he says, offering her the strength of his arm if she'd care to hang upon it. "I had not heard nor seen you since our brief first meeting and I was beginning to think you had forgotten me."


Amora slipped closer to take the offered arm with her own, green manicured fingers tracing over his arm before she glanced back up him, leading him up the steps and into the hall when the guardsman opened it for her. "You might ask the door man if I am present, instead." She murmured, but there was a teasing tone in her voice, amusement high in her expression.

The proper portion of the hall was wide, with tall ceilings and massive furniture. A large table took up the majority of the room, with chairs all around it. A cold fireplace sat behind the head of the table, where it was clear that the Prince himself likely sat. Food, and drink as always were spread out. Kept there by either magic or the servant's constant hard work. It was impossible to tell.

"I have been.." She sighed, "Occupied."


Hercules smiles and guides her to a seat, "I am unused to asking permission, as a rule. We gods, I think, get in the habit of taking what we desire," he says. "Perhaps we are not always as thoughtful as we should be about it. But I am not prone to denying myself either," he says.

He looks over the repast with a satisfied smile and moves to take a seat near at hand, "I hope you haven't been forced to do any sort of labor. What a waste that would be."


Amora picked up a goblet that sat there, golden and sweet smelling of mead and she sipped at it as she took a seat. She refolded her legs, a flash of shapely leg showing behind the high slits in her skirt. She leaned back with a roll of her shoulders, her chest rising and falling with another great sigh as if terribly put upon. "I cannot blame you in the least for such when put so very well, darling. I must plea the same for myself. But," A flutter of her eyelashes followed as she looked down at her mead.

"I am attempting self control." She flicked her hair back over her bare shoulder distractedly. Another sultry smile blossoming over her full lips at his words. "Oh no, why ever would I be forced into some manner of labor? I am a Lady, after all."


Hercules shakes his head, his shirtless frame leaving his massive muscles on constant display. He has, on occasion, tried tunics and the like, but always finds them unnecessarily constricting, especially in the summer's heat.

"Self-control? In what manner? You seem to have mastery of yourself quite well. I don't see you running around babbling incoherently or drooling like a madwoman," he says.


Amora sighed heavily, looking over Hercules and his fabulous muscles as she propped her chin up with the palm of her hand. "I am attempting to keep my.." She licked her rubied lips in consideration. "I am attempting," She started again, distractedly, "To remain bed fellow to only one man." She reached for her goblet of mead, and drunk heavily of it.

Shock must have settled quickly in the room, or at least it would have if there had been anyone else there besides Hercules and Amora. She herself seemed discomforted by the fact that she had said such things out loud.


Hercules isn't so rude as to do a spit-take, although, had he a mouth of mead dat the moment, he might have done simply out of sheer surprise. He, instead, takes a moment, bracing himself and taking a long drink with his eyebrows raised in an expression of disbelief.

"Milady, I would not ever speak ill of you, you are always free to do as you please, but I cannot imagine why you would bother with such a thing. Is there an arrangement between your families? Is it a sealing of some alliance? I know mortals get caught up in such…petty entrapments, but it seems odd for an immortal to attempt such a binding."


Amora made a small sound of sympathy, and she shook her head as she considered Hercules over the rim of her goblet. "Nay, tis my Prince. His highness, Thor. We are attempting.. more than our simple enjoyments that we have had over the past several centuries. He has his jealousies and I mine." She dragged her finger tip over the rim of her goblet.

"To prove my love for more than simply his power or ability, I am .. I am attempting this as a means to demonstrate that I could be his Queen." And that meant not having affairs. Ever. Queens didn't have those if they wanted to keep power after all.


Hercules takes a leg of turkey, eating it with a relish for a moment, chewing on the flesh and swallowing before he sets the bone down near clean. It's the work of but a moment.

"Politics, then," he says. "And love. Which amounts to the same thing, much of the time," he says. "I know well the proponents of love - Aphrodiate has waxed deeply to me on the subject - but I have never seen it be anything but temporary, a mortal's indulgence. Love may only seem eternal if you shall, someday, day. If such promises make you happy, then they are worthwhile. If they do not…then what is their purpose?"


Amora watched him, and there was a clear desire in those green eyes of her's for the whisper of sheets and a press of bodies. Her promise holding her like a multitude of strings that visibly seemed to pull at her. She exhaled a breath, turning her gaze toward the food and instead took another sip of her mead. "His highness makes me happy. I am happiest with him and at his side. I have desired nothing more for centuries now." She murmured.

"Tis simply an exercise in self control and restraint." She murmured, forcing a smile as she glanced back at him. "I can and have managed it for sometime now. Tis nothing."


Hercules shakes his head, "I doubt that it is nothing. You are a creature of strong needs and feelings. Such things aren't merely tempered by simple words," he says.

"But I will not press upon you. If you truly desire such…restrictions, then I, of course, wish you only happiness. However personally I may be disappointed by it,' he says with a smirk. "I simply find bedsport with mortals to be…complex. They are so very fragile."


Amora heaved another sigh, and it was the most piteous thing. Clearly, the Enchantress looked more than a little stifled at her own stated restrictions. As if she hardly needed Hercules to do much more than sit there looking so utterly delectable. She shifted in her seat, and recrossed her legs. Her free hand slid down her throat and settled at the hollow of her collarbone.

Her eyelashes fluttered, her gaze half liddened as she considered him. "Aye," She cleared her throat, and sipped at her mead again. "You are.. most correct. I am… perhaps more so than others well in tune with my emotions and needs." She dragged her lower lip between her teeth.

"Mortals are very fragile. Indeed. I was faced with such for a long while."


Hercules leans forward on his elbows, his powerful arms and shoulders flexed a bit. He flexes with every movement, it's the nature of being Hercules.

"Why do you wish to be Queen? I have seen the weight of rule, how it has sat heavily on my father's shoulders. And it could be argued that it drove my stepmother mad, although I'm not sure she might not have been anyway. Ruinous harridan that she is," he mutters. "But it must be something you want very greatly, to deny yourself indulgence just for this…Prince," he says.


Amora exhaled a breath, looking at him over the rim of her goblet. "I desire him more than I do the crown. If he were not Prince or heir apparent, I would follow him. Such are my feelings for him. He does not believe my heart to be truly of this vein. He believes my heart desires the power of being Queen of Asgard. I desire him." She smiled smoothly, raising her goblet and then setting it down.

She reached for a grape, popping it into her mouth after a moment. "I have loved him for centuries. And I have been spurned and loved in equal measure over the years."


Hercules snorts, "He must be a mighty stallion indeed, then, to have so entranced you. Or perhaps he is the one who should be called the Enchantress, to ensorcel your heart in such a way as to make you defy your very nature,' he says.

"Beware, though, milady. If you must transgress too much of who you are in order to please this man, then is it even you whom he loves? Or merely who he imagines you to be?"


A flutter of eyelashes follow Hercules' words and Amora smiles her red lipped smile, shifting back with a roll of her shoulders and a lift of her head. "He is not ensorcelled by my mere kiss. Whatever he feels for me is true, which is a rare and oft impossible gift that many can claim." She murmured. She reached for another grape and popped it into her mouth.

"He is well able to please me, and keep me. So long as I find not other women trepassing my claim, I am quite able to manage my jealousies and temper. He is well aware of who I am. Perhaps the only better aware is his brother, Loki. Who is much in the same temper as I am." She grabbed up her goblet again, sipping at it.

"Your words are far wiser than I gave you previous credit for, Hercules. You've a careful tongue inside that head of your's it would seem indeed." She smiled.


Hercules waves a hand, "Bah, I am no wise man. I know truth, but only the simple ones. I leave the muttering about with philosophy to bald-headed impotents and crabby hags," he says. "But I have learned the importance of being Hercules. Of being myself. I have had others try to bend my nature to their whim and the result has always been misery. Some for love, some for hate, but the results have been much the same either way."

"And I suppose I am gifted in that regard - I am not prone to jealousies. I saw too much of it in Hera, in the hatred she bore for me simply for being born of another woman touched by Zeus. It is one of the most insidious of evils and I have done my best not to indulge it," he says.


Had Doctor Strange been in the room perhaps there would've been some comparison made to Amora and to Hera. But he was not, so it was not made. Amora had wicked jealousies and had acted on it more than once to the detriment of a great many. She smiled at Hercules, and stood with a sway of her hips. She leaned in to press a kiss against his cheek in a more than chaste manner. Even if her hand traced along his arm and lingered for a moment too long.

"I offered it to him freely. If he would mind his flirations with others before me. I did enjoy our time together, and if all bodes ill for me. You shall have more of it darling. However, if all goes well for me. Then I shall be happily engaged else where." She murmured, straightening with a smirk.

"Now, if you've any need of anything, ask the maids. I have to see to something quickly, and will be more than happy to keep you entertained here in the mead hall."

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