Who: Amora NPCs: Skurge, Heimdall Where: Asgard When: 7/14/12 What: Amora decides to help Midgard. Rating: PG.
At her touch, the crystal waters of the lake transformed its reflection from Amora's beautiful one to a much grislier scene: Frost Giants on the attack, advancing in a horde, the wind and snow swirling around them, as men tried to valiantly to fight them off. A green monster leapt into the air, coming down hard, knocking a Jotun off his feet. One of the men, the one with the shield, took advantage of this moment to strike. She admired the display of battle, and the heart behind it. No ordinary man could hope to survive battle with the Frost Giants; that was part of why she had always been so fond of the Viking men, aside from the fact they worshipped her. They knew passion; sometimes better than the Gods. And if Amora thrived on one thing, it was passion.
Having seen enough, the Enchantress rose from her spot reclining in the grass and beckoned to the Executioner, her most loyal pet. "Come, Skurge. It is time to act."
The Enchantress could not, would not, see humanity's potential for passion extinguished by the cold of the Frost Giants. Thor and Loki were to blame for Laufey's incursion into Midgard, and Amora was sick of having the brothers Odin responsible for causing such trouble that would ruin her fun.
Skulking by the trees, the Executioner heeded his mistress' commands almost wordlessly. Skurge was the illegitimate son of a Frost Giant and a a Skarnheim goddess, but when it came time to fight the Jotuns he would do so without question, because the Enchantress asked it of him. He towered over her, as he did most everyone in Asgard; the Executioner was known for his unusually large size, both in height and girth, aside from the fact that he often acted as Amora's shadow. He was a ruthless fighter, carrying an axe for his weapon.
Skurge looked at her. This look was apparently some sort of question or mute statement, because the Enchantress replied, "I do not care," before swishing her green cape around them. The lake and the trees and the mountains in the distance disappeared and were replaced by the entrance to the Bifrost.
"Wait here," Amora commanded of Skurge, before entering the dome to speak with Heimdall alone. She was so confident in her hold over the Executioner that it did not occur to her not to use her charms on her former lover. "Heimdall, my love!"
She went to kiss him on the lips, but the Guardian turned his head and she got his cheek instead. "Trickery doth not become thee, Amora,"
That made the Enchantress laugh. "Dear noble Heimdall… how sweet of thee! Truly, I am flattered…"
"Loki did not escape from his prison without help," said the Guardian.
"Really," Amora said.
"You should not have helped him."
The Enchantress looked indifferent. "Midgard is in crisis. Heimdall, may I use the Bifrost?"
Heimdall did not answer her. Instead, he simply remained staunch. This was a disappointment to Amora. She'd hoped that he would be more reasonable: surely, , being all seeing and all hearing, he would know Midgard was in crisis, and he would have seen things her way. Apparently not. Now she remembered why he was a former lover.
She smiled at him once more, calling upon her enchantments and natural gifts to seduce him. The tone of her voice changed, becoming lighter, higher, more musical, and her grip upon him was firm as she gazed into his eyes and kissed him on the lips. "Heimdall, may I use the Bifrost?" she asked again.
"Yes," he replied in a slightly dreamy voice. By the time the dazed expression on his face cleared and he alerted Thor, the Enchantress and the Executioner would be long gone.
"Good," Amora said, like one might to a child, then beckoned her other: "Executioner, to me!"
On the other end of the Rainbow bridge, a very snowy New York awaited them.