1964-07-23 - Apologies and Kisses
Summary: Amora and Thor have a chat
Related: None
Theme Song: None
thor amora 

There's been a tumultuous few days of activity for the Embassy; many comings and goings, and Thor's been unreliable as possible. The big fellow's gone as rarely as he's there lately, off carousing with friends or engaging on adventures of his own. A note had been left for him: Amora, needing a few minutes of his time.

There's a knock at Amora's door, and Thor enters her quarters. "Amora?" the blonde god remarks, looking for the Enchantress. He looks left and right for her. "I hoped you had a few moments," he calls, walking into the room and closing the door behind him.


Amora stood before a full length mirror, holding a dress up against her figure while she stood in little more than her under-things. Or at least, what passed for them. At the knock she calls a distracted 'Come in', without thinking. After all, it was Thor, and instinct often ruled when it came to the Thunder god. She sighed, displeased with the dress and magically several more came floating in from a dimensional portal in her closet. It sparkled with light and a shifting of green fabric of various hues. Splashed with golds and the occasional other vibrant color.

On her bed were trunks, massive amounts of them, piled high with shoes and accessories. Clearly, the Enchantress was in the middle of something that for once, wasn't magically involved. Green eyed gaze swung around to Thor and she walked over on stockinged feet to him, pressing a kiss again his jawline. "Hello darling."


Thor is a bit dumbstruck— Amora in stockings and a flirty little nothing is a sight all its own, and it takes him a few beats to look around the room at the riot of magic marching her clothes around.

He's kissed on the jaw and swings around a little late, kissing her brow and looking around the room with confusion on his rugged features as his hands rest automatically on her slender shoulders.

"Er, hello to you," he says, shaking his head in confusion. He focuses on Amora.

"What is it you are doing? Packing?" he inquires, looking more than a little confused.


Amora inclined her head, smiling up at him and settling her hands upon her hips. She waved a hand at one dress and it spun itself into a neat fold. "Aye. Well, I have been invited by the other 'love' gods as you can put it, to a meeting. We share concerns over what the death gods were up to. So we're having a meeting. We hope that we won't be inclined to go to war quite so passionately over our worshippers. As I am the closest to such a representative currently, desire is counting." She smirked and selected a dress out of the line up. It twirled and came over to her, slipping over her head and over her arms.

Her gaze swung back toward Thor and she sashayed over to him again. "It shant take up too much time. I leave in about a week." She reached up to trace her hand over his jaw. "By your leave of course, my darling."


"You need not my permission to come and go as you wish, my dear," Thor rumbles, squeezing Amora's hand against his cheek— then goosing her rear as she walks past again. "You are not beholden to the court's permissions. But I appreciate your thought in asking," he grins.

"Hopefully, the gods of love can accomplish something useful," he remarks, finding a chair and dropping heavily into it. "The warriors brawl, the dead moan and rattle chains. I can only imagine what the pantheons of passion will get up to," he says, smirking.


Amora's gaze fluttered over Thor and she smirked once more, his touch at her rear had her swatting at his hand playfully, and she slipped into a pair of high heels that made her already long legs seem ever more impossibly so. "I may not be, however, tis a matter of the other Gods. Someone in power should be aware of what occurs." She murmured, arching a golden brow in his direction as he settled into the cushioned chair of her vanity.

"There's a surprisingly large amount of pomp and peacocking about before anything useful will happen. At least two days of 'Oh how do you do's and another day of attempting to prove who is more skilled, or more beautiful.." She shook her head, dragging a hand through her hair. Love gods had their hang ups. What after all, do you do with a room full of people who are the 'Most..' of any variety of 'love'. The Greeks had an abundance of love gods after all, and that was already messy.

"Tis not what you imagine, trust me. We do not get along with one another very well, if at all." She returned to him, and settled on the edge of her vanity, running a foot against his calf as she settled.

"Oh that reminds me, Doctor Strange stopped in, he wished to speak with you, but you were absent."


Thor clears his throat as Amora continues to sashay around him, and she puts a lot of leg on display as she perches near him. The touch of her foot to his calf draws his eye to her legs, and it takes him a second to jar his train of thought back onto the tracks.

"Huh? Oh, Doctor Strange?" Thor tries to focus on Amora's…. face. "What is it the doctor needed?" he inquires, brow furrowing. "Nothing of emergent import, I hope; I should dislike thinking that he needed something direly and I was not in attendance of the court," he tells Amora, slouching lazily in the chair.


Amora shrugged easily, a roll of her shoulders as she considered him from her perch. She recrossed her legs, stockings flashing out behind the thigh high slits in her skirt. Even as she smirked at Thor's obvious distraction. "I think he simply wished to speak with you. He waited some time, and ordered tea before leaving." She tilted her head to the side, reaching up to run her fingers through the tumbling golden locks.

"And Hercules stopped by last night." She murmured, "He desired mine company, and I told him I have been otherwise occupied and am no longer interested in seeking extra companionship.." Her voice dropped low as she spoke, taking on a more heated quality as was her wont. An eyebrow rose, as she paused, waiting for his reaction to that.


At the mention of the Greek, Thor looks up at Amora. Doubt lifts his brows, but they settle from a skeptical posture as she meets the measure of his gaze.

"I… I see," he says, looking a little surprised at her blunt honesty. Amora was manipulative as all get out… but very rarely a blunt liar.

"I … have admittedly, found myself thinking of you more often of late," he tells Amora, his tone a bit subdued. "And desiring your company more and more often. I … am gratified you have shown such restraint with Hercules. I know you two have a strong passion for one another," he tells the lovely blonde, trying to keep his eyes front and center, and mostly succeeding. Kinda.


Amora shifted, and slid down from her perch to try to rest on his lap. A languid manner following as she ran her hand along his jawline. "I desire nothing save your company and companionship, Thor." She leaned forward to to press another kiss against his jawline. "My pass interactions with the Greek have only ever been when I have been spurned from your company." She breathed the words softly, black eyelashes fluttering gently.

"I have bee very restrained as of late. For I, as I said before, that I would be. For you."


Thor welcomes Amora into his lap; his arms encircle her, and his eyes lid at the brush of her carmine lips to his bearded jaw.

"Aye… you have," he concedes, one hand resting on the small of her back. The other rests on her thigh, flirting with the smooth skin above her stockings. "You have held to the promise you made me. And I know that is… a trying amount of patience for you," he says, brushing his thumb under the point of her slender chin. "And I thank you for it, and owe you apology for doubting your steadfast nature," he apologizes, with blue-eyed sincerity.


Amora seemed to loosen at his touch, her figure curling against his in a pleased and contented way. All manner of her haughty posture utterly vanishing as she seemed more than happy to just remain on his lap as she was. She idly played with strands of his hair, closing her eyes as she leaned her head against his shoulder. A smile continued to play over full lips and only as he brushed a thumb beneath her chin did she sit up enough to catch his gaze.

Slender hands reached up to cup his jaw, and she pressed a kiss against his lips. A sweet and achingly slow and lingering one. "Apology accepted, and know that I shall always remain for you, beloved. For you are all that I desire in all the realms. Above all others. You shall always remain above all others to me."


Thor returns the kiss with an ardent affection, gripping her slender waist and pulling her close against him; she lays against the slablike planes of muscle in his chest, her hip pressing into the solid core of muscles in his belly.

"I will endeavour to be worthy of such adoration, my dear," he rumbles back at Amora, looking humbled by her adoration. "You have been loyal to me above all others, and I have been slow to reward it. I hope you will forgive me my thoughtlessness," he asks, brushing his lips against her jaw, then the side of her neck.


Amora seemed only too happy, too pleased and contented by his affections to offer up even a modicum of her usual domineering attitude. There were no attempts to scold him, to drag out the apology. She inhaled a sharp breath as his lips trailed down the line of her jaw and to her neck, her eyes fluttering. Now it would seem was her turn to be distracted. Mildly.

"You," A small sound as she shifted against him, her hands moving to trace along his shoulders, her nails scraping gently against the fabric of his tunic. "Shall have to most assuredly, work for such. I'll need convincing that you mean it, darling." Her lips twitching with hint of her usual smile. A teasing tilt to her voice that was rapidly becoming more breathless by each brush of his lips against her skin.

"I hope you shall remember such whilst I am gone."


"Work for it?" Thor inquires, mirth in his tone as Amora shifts— then she curls closer and he inhales sharply himself at the caress of her thigh against him and the scrape of nails to his sternum. "I might rise to that doughty task," he agrees, curling her closer to him with the arm around her narrow waist. "But you are the one descending into decadence and temptation for two weeks," he adds, brushing at her bare shoulder and tugging at the strap to her negligee. "Perhaps I should leave you with fond memories, to take along on your trip?" he offers, his fingertips rising to brush along the line of her chin and down her slender throat.


Amora pressed her forehead against his, dark lashes fluttering as she considered him, sitting up enough on his lap to do so. Her hands rose off his shoulders, sliding into his hair and combing through it. She seemed to simply enjoy the experience, threading delicate fingertips through is golden locks that frames his features. "Mmm, I shall need the utmost care and attention till then to ensure that my passions are most satiated before I go. After all, how else am I resist such promise of temptation?" She murmured, her lips tugging into another faint smirk.

"That is of course, if you feel up for such a tireless task."


Thor helps guide Amora so she straddles him; he runs his hands along her slender waist and around the roundel of her hips, fingers teasing at the tops of her stockings as she presses forward against him. He grins, brushing his lips against hers as she runs her finger through his hair, and shifts her around easily to lay against his chest.

"A task? A pleasure," he corrects her, grin spreading. "How can it be a duty when I go to it so willingly? I'll set my shoulder to that plow and till the field until it's done, no matter how long it takes. Where shall we begin, my darling?" he inquires, the silk of her negligee tugging under his fingertips.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License