1964-09-16 - Two to Contemplation
Summary: Amora and Thor have a nice walk in Central Park.
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
thor amora 

Amora practically oozed into existence, shopping bags on her arms that materialized in boxes and bags of bright and frilly colors. Packed with tissue paper and smelling of various heady perfumes. She looked utterly pleased with herself as she dropped them from her arms and left them for the servants to pack away into her quarters. She made a bee-line for Thor's quarters, rapping lightly on the doorframe as she peered inside.

She was clad in a slink mortal styled dress, all covered in sequins and glitter. A white puff of fur dangling around her shoulders and her hair falling in curls around her features. She kicked off her high heels as she entered, hardly waiting for permission as she slunk inside with a swing of her hips.

"Thor, darling, I come bearing gifts." She called, dragging her hand through her golden locks as she looked for her beloved Thunderer.

Thor is halfway from his chair by the time Amora enters; he quirks a brow at her breezy entry, but makes no comment, grinning at the curvy blonde. He sets aside the runestone he was examining and pushes off the chair by the armrests, brushing his hands together and moving to intercept Amora as she saunters in.

"Gifts? 'tis not a holiday or celebration," he muses, glancing at the tissue-packed bags in Amora's hands. "What gifts did you obtain? Are they for me, I hope— or are you treating yourself?"

Amora laughed, a high chime of a melody as she came up to wrap her arms around the Thunder God as soon as he was near her. She winked, leaning in to steal a kiss and tilt her head back to peer up at him. "I merely thought of you as I shopped for myself, I spied an especially interesting piece of jewelery that the mortals had for sale across their little oceans." She had clearly been shopping all over the world and not just limiting herself to 5th Avenue.

With a wink she dug into her cleavage and pulled out a slivery chain, where a tiny little Thor's hammer swung from the pendant. "The mortals are worshipping you again." She held out the warm chain to him by a finger tip.

"I thought you would be most amused to see that the method has not changed."

Thor's fingers, blunter and less agile than Amora's wrap around the hammer; he rests his knuckles against her sternum and captures the chain in his palm, returning her kiss with quick ardor before examining the little pendant.

"Worship of the gods has returned? This is a boon for our people!" Thor exclaims, grining foolishly. "As Asgard stands a shining monument to excellence, Midgard will follow in our wake like dutiful children once more. Who knows? Instead of millennia, mayhaps 'twill be mere centuries until they stand alongside us as allies instead of our wards," he tells Amora. "This was most kind of you; I thank you," he tells the woman.

Amora returned the affection whole heartedly, smiling as he looked over the pendant and took hold of it. She wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning into him with a sigh of contentment. Her expression warm and kinder than it had possibly ever been in the centuries prior. "Well, you have made quite the splash saving mortals all about. Their news has traveled far quicker than it used to in days of old. And they have been willing in other places to return to the old ways." She tapped her fingers against him thoughtfully, tilting her head.

"Tis possible that they might find their path sooner rather than later. But I am certain it is due to thy influence, my beloved."

"I will not pretend otherwise; the mortals seem to appreciate the aid we grant them," Thor concedes, not even striving for modest humility. "But 'tis not fair that only I gain the credit for our return. Mortals might know us now in more profoudn and important ways; instead of praying to us for intercession, they may worship us as paragons," he suggests, loosely resting his palms around her narrow waist; his fingers can almost span the slender draw above her pelvis, fingers brushing the silk. "Amora, for instance, should return to her fame as well," he suggests slyly.

Amora exhaled a soft breath as his hands trailed around her. Her eyes fluttering briefly as she leaned against him. Her own fingers toyed with the loose golden locks around the nape of his neck. Her smile remained as her gaze lingered on him, even as she shifted her weight lightly from side to side, swaying slightly in his grip. "Hela shall be most pleased. All true worshippers shall go to her realm or Valhalla in the end." She murmured.

Then as he spoke of her name rising to prominence, she arched a brow. One of her hand dragged down his neck to rise and tap against his jawline. "Very few of the mortal realm knew my true name to summon mine attention. They knew me by other names. A great many that are lost or forgotten now. I played here and did not always choose the same role for myself, darling." She leaned in to peck him lightly on the lips.

"And I am more than content enough to require little of their worship these days."

"As you wish," Thor concedes. "But still, I should think that mortals would admire your beauty and skill," he tells Amora, gripping her lightly and flashing a grin.

"So, is there aught else new from Midgard?" he inquires, loosening his grip and moving to rest his hips against a low desk behind him. "News from the humans— or is all as it normally is, short-lived chaos and frenetic activity?" he inquires, lifting a brow at her.

Amora grinned up at him, "I would adore such worship, my darling. It would be a boon to my powers. But, if it does not come to be, then I shall worry not over it. For I have the one that matters the most in my heart to worship my form and figure. And you are worth more than all the worlds of worship and adoration." She murmured as she followed after him. She settled down beside him, curling her figure up against him and settling her chin against his shoulder.

"I noticed naught else a miss. Nothing new that threatened Midgard at large. Nor aught that came from outside its borders. The veils are secure. The good Doctor Strange has kept his work well and there has not been any new incursion that I noted." She murmured, her gaze lifting up to him.

"All is as it should be. Peaceful." She smiled, and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. "I even saw your brother and his beloved at the beach. They were quite content."

"I hope Kai and Loki remain happy for an eternity," Thor says sincerely, shaking his head. There is no higher power for the Gods to look towards in supplication, else Thor's eyes would turn skywards.

"I shudder to think what mischief Loki would get to if his heart were to be broken. Delerious joy and a little playful mayhem is far preferable to the bitter antagonism he presents in the past," Thor tells Amora, letting her lean against his broad shoulder as she seats herself. "It seems a little joy goes a long way among our kin when it comes to checking malarky," Thor tells Amora, eyes twinkling at her.

Amora remained snuggled up against Thor, her eyes drifting shut briefly as she simply seemed pleased to be next to him. With the sunlight streaming in from the tall windows, the light reflecting a lazy afternoon warmth and a glow to both Thor's golden locks and her own, the picture they made was idyllic. As he continued to speak, her eyes fluttered open and her gaze shifted back to him.

Her lips twitched in amusement and she reached out with a hand toward his jaw when he looked her way. "Love is a power stronger than a great many in the universe, darling. And love returned is ever the more powerful for the ways it can change and warm even the coldest of places." She leaned in to press a kiss against his jawline.

"And I hope that such joy shall be mine for a great, long, while. For I would be most miserable without it."

Thor brushes his lips against Amora's high cheekbone. "Aye, 'tis a force even I cannot reckon with," Thor agrees, brushing an errant lock behind Amora's ear. "And more powerful than I, by far."

He wraps his arm around Amora's waist, resting his shoulders against the wall behind him lazily. The toes of his boots barely scrape the ground where they sit. "I have been enjoying my time here at the Embassy, among the humans," he remarks, after a companionable interlude of quiet. "They are so intemperate and short lived, but they seize each moment with such tenacity."

Amora preened slightly under Thor's affection. Her eyes fluttering shut again as he brushed a kiss to her cheekbone and a smile remained simply curved upon her ruby lips. She snuggled up against him as his arm settled around her waist, her legs drawing up to settle against his thigh. Idly, one of her arms settled over his, her fingers sliding to thread against his fingers while the other toyed with the hem of his tunic. "There are few things in all the realms that would wish to go up against such a powerful magic.." She murmured softly.

Then, as Thor brought up the mortals, she had to hold back a sigh. "They live such short lives.." She murmured, her brows furrowing. "I fear that I shall blink and Scarlett shall have passed on. And she shows such potential. I wish that I could keep her from such a fate.." She whispered.

"Aye. Friends I have made as well," Thor says, consolingly. "Allies and companions among them. Even the good Doctor Strange might not persist forever, long-lived as the Sorceror Supreme might be," he reminds her. "A few centuries for us is an eternity for them and a scarce fraction of our life. Long as we might keep the good doctor…"

He trails off and shakes his head, turning to kiss Amora. "Bah! Such maudlin meditations are no pleasure," he says, abandoning his grim mood with a lauigh. "Let us focus as the mortals do, on the moment, and what pleasures we might find here."

Amora's brows pinched as she looked up at Thor as he continued in the same vein of thought as she had. It was strangely sad to the Enchantress. And she had never considered feeling anything for mortals before. They had been such shortly lived, they were so small and obsecure. They were toys. Pets. Playthings at most.. and yet here she was fretting over the short fate of those that she actually bothered to remember had names.

Then of course, the mood changes with Thor's words and kiss. She smiled into the affection, wrapping her arms around him and pulling herself closer. She settled her hands against his collarbone, grinning faintly, her eyelashes fluttering. "We could … focus on a more cheering future. One with more joys. One of more than the simple pleasures of the moment." She murmured softly. Her eyes lowering faintly.

"We need not only think of a loss to come.. but possibly more of gifts and life instead..?"

"I think 'tis the proper consideration for our future," Thor agrees, with a grave tone belied by his easy grin. He watches the emotions and confusion playing across Amora's face, and gives her back a gentle pat then squeezes her shoulders once more when she leans against him.

"Gifts, life, love. And welcome company," he adds, tugging Amora close and kissing her again.

Amora's cheerfulness had been at full bloom, even as the leaves started to change colors in preparation of fall, she seemed immune. Forever green and the very essence of Spring. She clutched at Thor's arm as she had since they'd left the Asgardian Embassy, having cajoled him into a walk about the mortal's land they dubbed "Central Park". She was in her human guise, mostly, a flirtatiously short dress of emerald swished around her thighs as they walked and her blonde curls bounced around her cheeks.

"You know, my darling, we could do so much more to help the mortals here. Think of it. If they return to the old ways once more.. why could we not bring some more of Asgard to here? Healers, potions.." She murmured, "It could help them." She batted her eyelashes as she looked up at Thor, smiling softly still.

Thor wears a heavy jacket and rugged trousers, meant for a laborer. There's no disguising his height or build, but New York is filled with extraordinary people. Most of them don't glow with the magic of Asgard, but there's not much to be done about that.

"I have pondered much the same," Thor nods. "What could we offer to humanity beyond weapons? To aid them in many myriad ways— healers, artisans. Are they ready for such assisstance? Would it make them merely vassals to Asgard, or are they ready to take such steps into the larger universe?" he wonders aloud.

Amora shrugged, as they walked, a light movement, a delicate roll of her shoulders. "But think of it, darling. If you offered freely knowledge to aid them to stand higher than they are now? Asgard has cures for many of their ills that plague them. Their lives could be so much better. For all on this planet." She waved her free hand around at the park.

"Aye, tis simple enough to protect the planet here from woes and evils beyond.. but why not aid it further? You care for this realm. And we once taught them such things like boat-building, metal-working, and weaving. Why not again?"

"And we ushered in the Frost Giants to invade these realms," Thor reminds her. "They grew dependent on us. Their lands froze and frosted over. Instead of innovation, they prayed for intercession."

He mulls it over. "But they see us now as not… spirits, but flesh and blood. Creatures superior to them, but /of/ this world. Perhaps it is not such a terrible idea," he concedes. "To help them make the next great leap in their evolution as a species."

Amora shrugged once more, this time tossing her hair back behind her ear with a flick of her wrist. Her ruby lips pulling into a smile as she glanced back from the path ahead back toward Thor. "We already know that the other realms see this one as one step away from behind conquerored. They always have. Asgard has always taken a protective stance on ensuring their freedom to grow and develop." She murmured softly, her fingers tracing a delicate pattern over the sleeves of his jacket.

"But as you have said, they have grown. Perhaps they might grow if given the chance. Some wil see us as Gods, others will not. We have an Embassy here and their government is well aware of us. I see no reason to not at least offer those interested in learning.." She glanced upwards at the blue, cloud streaked sky above.

"I am merely stating what you've mentioned before, of course.. But we have friends here, and your brother… It would will be difficult to not wish their lives improved here."

"It is one thing to stand outside and guard against predators, but another to stand near the fire," Thor reminds Amora gently. "Humanity is close, but I am not possessed of my father's wisdom. Odin alone knows if they are prepared to ascend to a higher level, to begin the process of becoming gods themselves."

He looks around, at the whirling mess of children and families playing, walking, cavorting. Living.

"They are so small. So fragile and helpess," Thor frowns. "For every few I meet who are warriors or mages, there are thousands who can barely survive outside of a city. They would be helpless, facing the greater universe."

Amora squeezed Thor's arm gently, "And someday, you will bear that wisdom and be able to make that call yourself." She murmured gently, her smile faint, but still present. "Tis only a thought, as I know you care greatly for them, beloved." She glanced toward the whirling mass of children and happy families and her steps slowed ever so slightly.

"Perhaps they are not ready to step into the wider realms. But a nudge here or there? Offer a few hints, here or there? At least to those that wish to protect their people.. Less of a teacher, and more of a guide. Nothing more." She trailed off and fell silent for a moment, watching the happy families play in the sunlight, watching the crisp leaves that had turned yellow and orange early dangle from the branches above.

"You are so very good with them. Fragile as they are. You're careful. For all the strength in your arms. You can have a touch as delicate as a feather." Her voice soft and her thoughts clearly elsewhere.

"I will contemplate your words," Thor tells Amora, reassuringly. "But I am not my father, not yet. Maybe in time, I will have his wisdom; but do not mistake my restraint for a light touch," he advises her.

"I am not yet prepared for my father's throne," he remarks. "Loki craves his power, but not his wisdom. I crave his wisdom, but not his power. I hope I am taking the more reasonable course, but I am still unready for the responsibility of the Nine Realms," he remarks. "I will ensure Midgard survives, and protect my home against all threats, but for now— I must take small steps, and remember the lessons of humility I was taught as Donald Blake."

Amora smiled, warmer this time at his words. "I know. And in time, you will gain what you need to take on such tasks that you will face." She gave his arm another gentle squeeze. "I have every faith, that in time, you shall rise to every challenge that such a position will push on you. Just as you have in the past. They say, 'tis a wise man that seeks not the throne, knowing well the burden that rests on the one who claims it. And you have time to learn to carry such a burden."

Green eyes lingered on him, and her voice was soft, gentle and kind. All the things that previously, few had ever associated with her. Yet there it was. She was in love, and it had softened her to such contentment that she gave this to the golden Prince as often as she could.

Then the moment passed and her gaze returned to the children playing about the park. There was a wistfulness there, a yearning as she watched. "And I will always be at your side to support you." She added, her voice soft.

Thor slips his arm around Amora's shoulders, hugging her to his side as they stroll alng. The two collect more than a few looks— she's beautiful beyond all mortal standards, and Thor towers over among all the humans scampering around.

Thor doesn't care, or see them; he's content in Amora's company as well as she in his, and happiness wreathes the God of Thunder's features.

"Your support is most welcome, Amora," Thor reminds the woman. "I have survived much that would have led me to perish, were it not for your support and your steadfastness. I will always be in your debt for your courage and your compassion."

Amora preened up at Thor, happy to curl up under his arm and lean her figure against his. She fell silent for as long as he did, walking in the dappled shade of the park's wooded path. She sighed softly as he spoke of how she had aided him, and her chest warmed with each compliment he offered. One of her manicured hands searched out for his, seeking to thread her fingers with his.

"I am always happy to lend such to you, darling." She murmured softly, smiling that ruby lipped smile of her's.

Then once more she fell silent for a long moment, turning her gaze to the path ahead and the mortals that continued on with their lives. More than few staring, but she seemed unconcerned with the glances of the mortal men. She had her Thunderer, after all. Still, some time passed before she spoke again and when she did, it was seemingly abrupt.

"The women of this realm.. the mothers. I wonder how they raise children and run a home without any manner of magic to keep the hearth.."

"I know not either," Thor admits, with a shake of his head. "But this land is the wealthiest and most powerful of the mortal realms," he reminds her. "They use technology and machines as we do magic, to ease their lives and increase the value of their labors."

"Their lives seem so fleeting and hurried," he says, shaking his head. "Such a small time they have, and they do so much with it; yet so few of them leave a mark on their world," he says. "Those that do burn bright as the cosmos."

Amora heaved a sigh, her lips pursing slightly in that disdainful way that so rarely graced her features these days. Yet it seemed to arise at the mention of the mortal's technology. "A woman's magic in the home is a gift and a right. The loss of it for their 'technology' is middling! I could never have a child if I had not access to such magic. How could a mother sooth her child's fevers? Soften their cries and bless their dreams with sweetness? She could not." She shook her head.

"The mortal realm is a fearful place to have children in, how they manage is a mystery to me." She tsk'ed and wrinkled her nose faintly.

"Many women fail," Thor concedes. "Children suffer and perish here all too readily. It is a sad state of affairs, for humanity," he remarks. "They are immensely fragile as youths; they reach majority swiftly enough, but until that time, they are terribly vulnerable to the least of things. Even a little poison or mild injury can cripple them permanently."

"Mayhaps this is a realm where you could be of use," Thor suggests, nudging Amora. "We spoke of the knowledge of Asgard, but surely it would not corrupt human destiny to learn some minor ways to keep children alive in the midst of famine or plague."

Amora sighed softly as Thor nudged her, "Perhaps. But my magic has never been strong in healing.." She grimaced faintly, leaning her head against his arm. "I am no healer.. Perhaps if we might bring one from Asgard to teach their doctors how to help them? That would give them the hope to learn and grow on their own. Without need of prayers for me." She murmured.

Her feet tapped lightly on the pavement as they walked. "At least our children are a more hearty sort. And there are ways to mend their hurts. Though the long years needed to see our kind reach adulthood.. and how difficult it can be to have children in the first place.." She knew all about the ins and outs of that. Every Asgardian woman did. She trailed off looking to Thor.

"What would you desire, my lord? A son or a daughter, if you were to have a child.."

"When I am King?" Thor inquires, looking to Amora. He squeezes her closer, considering. "A strong and vibrant Asgardian," he concludes. "I know my father begged mother for a son, and she delivered. But I see no reason to have a son over a daughter; I would be happy with either, as long as they are brave, courageous, and devoted," he remarks, flashing a smile down at Amora. "It matters not the gender to the throne who bears their weight. I have learned from Sif, from Kelda— from you—," he says, squeezing her again, "that women are every bit as capable as men, and certainly more skilled than us at some tasks."

Amora fluttered her eyes up at Thor as he asked when he was King. Doubtlessly he would need heirs. And unlike Sif had once complained over the concept of a royal baby-maker, Amora had no qualms over the idea of having such a child. It was another part of the parcel that came with her desire of wanting to be Thor's beloved and Queen.

"Aye, when you are King, as such is when you will need an heir." She added, a smile on her lips. Though Loki had clearly never let that stop him from having kids.

"I imagine you would be a marvelous father when such a time comes. Boy or girl." She murmured, smiling.

"One hopes," Thor laughs easily, hugging Amora to him again. "Perhaps that is more wisdom that will come to me when my father, favor him, passes me the responsibility of the crown."

"Though, I must admit that there may be no simple mystery to it; parenthood is a path all must walk in darkness at first. There is no great secret to it but love and attention," he reflects. "You've put me into a contemplative mood, dearest," he chuckles. "These walks are a most welcome diversion from the labors at the embassy."

Amora leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek as they walked, giving his hand a squeeze, and a smile remained, playing over her full lips still. "And people claim that you are not the thoughtful brother. How very wrong they are indeed. For I know that you, my darling, just as all things, simply need to be in the correct mood for it." Laughter in her voice as the two continued their walk along the tree lined path of Central Park.

"I have always had faith in you, and your ability to do well what you set your mind to. The vagaries of parenthood, and of rule, shall all be learned in time. And as you experience them in their times." She paused in consideration.

"Perhaps do not take advice on being a father from Loki though."

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