Please see the above linked âMasterlistâ for all warnings and disclaimers about the fic, thank you.
[Chapter One] [Chapter Three]
Days as a god-like being pass faster than imagined, yet there are times where it feels the years crawl on like a wretched creature dragging itself across the floor, pulling with nails to just reach the nearest reprieve. Itâs not always a bad thing, Loki thought, especially nowadays.
Since his proper meeting of his blonde companion, heâd found himself wishing the days lasted longer, as surprising as that was to himself.
Years had passed since that night, how many exactly he wasnât sure, and they had fallen into a strained form of friendship. Debates held over tomes, spars in the training grounds between daggers and sword, or spell against spell, quiet evenings spent reading side by side with little conversation. All of it blissful in comparison to the loneliness he had often felt in the years before. He wouldnât find a true equal, he knew that, but he supposed this was as close to it as he could picture. Yet he always held back, the conversation on his part never drawing too close to his kin, never exposing emotion beyond what was surface deep, no tales of youth beyond what she had herself witnessed or heard about. The most he had ever laid bare for Amora, after one too many cups of mead had been had, was a deeply rooted ambition, though he wisened up before he could say as to what it was for.
Heâd avoided her for nearly a week after that, refused invitations to train and ignored her knocking on his chamber door. When he returned, she had poured half a cup of ale over his head and that was that, the next day returning to their almost friendship. Those days he truly wished lasted a bit longer.
This day didnât start off as one of them though. Not at first.
Dim yellow light hung in the Palace of Valaskjalf, home of the royal family of Asgard, and itâs great hall, nowhere near as large as the neighbouring site thatâs sole purpose was a gallery for grand events (like coronations* and passing of titles or medals), but still opulent enough for occasions like this evening.
Some wedding of one of his motherâs courtiers, a woman he couldnât remember the name of, did it begin with an S maybe? He shook his head dismissively, it didnât matter anyway. They had been introduced once, and he could vaguely recall Friggaâs insistence on it, likely hoping to find a match for him but left disappointed when he only spared the girl a look before preferring to talk with a particularly blonde and imposing figure instead.
The only one who didnât seem surprised by his newfound rapport with the enchantress was the womanâs former teacher and patron, Karnilla. The darkly dressed Norn was a dangerous figure, even to the God of Mischief, and though her visits to Asgard were briefer nowadays, she made appearance upon Odin or Friggaâs request. Sheâd eyed the emerald prince with her steely gaze, seeing his inclination towards her one-time apprentice, and only spoke to him towards the end of that particular day: âSheâll stamp on your heart, princeling, donât forget it.â
The conviction sheâd spoken with had almost broken his front of indifferent charm, but it was all but forgotten for the years after. Till tonight.
The hall roaring with the sounds of nobles, courtiers of every extension close to the household of royalty, along with their finest warriors (Thorâs rowdy bunch included, Loki counted with an eye roll), it wasnât his kind of evening entertainment in the slightest. Heâd much rather be in the sparring yard, throwing spells and blades with instructors till the moon rose, or sat in the library with Amora pouring over some ancient magic book, but here he was, stuck at yet another boring affair with his motherâs ire being the penalty for running off.
As he contemplated it, the doors parted again for the latest arrivals to the feast, a group of maybe thirty or so, announced by name and title each turn by a crier nearest the entry. Never mind that the room was nearly packed with over a hundred figures already.
âBragi, poet to the Allfather, accompanied by the lady Idun.â
âLord Forseti, Justiciar, accompanied by the Valkyrie, Eir.â
Moderately curious, but dull.
âMimir, Captain of the Einherjar, accompanied by the fine lady Gefjun.â
âLord Vidar, accompanied by the lady Amora.â
Now that had his attention. He peered up from his place behind the column heâd chosen as his shelter for the night, just a few paces shy of the grand table of his family, which in turn stood raised behind the bride and groomâs own platform. Because even on a day like today, his family must be held in even higher standing than any other, just in case they should forget it between the crowns adoring his parents heads or their gilded attire.
Vidar was an unexceptional fellow, a warrior, vengeful and brusque with little intelligence from what Loki could recall, barely appearing any different to the husband of this wretched evening, whereas sheâŚ
Amora strode in at Vidarâs side, arm looped around his, looking utterly breathtaking. Far more stunning than the brown-haired bride in her finest dress. Her golden locks coiled up in part atop her head in fashionable braids, the rest hanging down her shoulders and back in waves. A verdant gown that hung off her shoulders, tight around the bodice encrusted with golden flecks and flowing out at the waist into many layers of sheer fabric in black and green.
If he had been paying attention to anyone else, he would have noticed his motherâs smile at the blonde sorceress, grateful that she accepted the invitation. He would have noticed the disgusting way Thor looked her up and down as if she were a new challenge. The way that Sif glowered at her for stealing the attention from her partner for the evening. The way the bride frowned for being outshone, and the groom licking his lips at the tightly cut gown that left little to the imagination.
But he didnât notice any of it. All he could see was her. The glamours of shining eyes and perfect make up (a mixture of gold and black, as ever) held in place with minimal effort whilst the woman glided across the floor to greet and congratulate the happy couple. The way she batted her eyes and charmingly smiled towards each of them, the way Vidar held her waist tightly as if he had any claim to it.. It boiled Lokiâs blood.
Why such a woman would ever attend with a man who had more in common with a Bilgesnipe than one of the Aesir, he couldnât fathom. Growling to himself, he sauntered from his hiding place to his familyâs side without even realising he was moving in the first place.
Frigga was the first to notice him, offering him a warm smile. âThere you are. Just in time for the dancing, though Iâm afraid you missed the best courses.â She chittered inconsequentially about the festivities she thought he had missed. He hadnât, he had just not wanted to join, but rather than say it aloud he bobbed his head in a feint of listening. His icy-blue eyes never once drifted from the enchantress across the hall however, who by now noticed him and in turn shot him a sly smirk.
The Queen of Asgard was not a fool, certainly no one could claim her as such, it took only a matter of seconds of conversation with her favourite son that she realised he wasnât listening at all. Following his gaze towards Amora, a small but knowing smile spread on her lips before she lightly placed a hand on her green and black clad childâs arm.
âWhy not offer her a drink?â
Now his gaze finally snapped to Frigga, and she let out a small chuckle at it.
âYou may stare forever, Loki, or you may offer her a drink.. Maybe even a dance?â Though at that he only glowered further. âAnd why would I do that? She is accompanied, and uninterested.â He ground out through slightly bared teeth.
âBecause she has barely stopped looking at you either. Now go, before someone else beats you to it.â And with a light swat to his elbow, she shooed her dear son away with a mischievous glint in her eye.
Loki absolutely did not leave because his mother told him to. Or because he was concerned of even the slightest threat from any troglodyte that would attempt to curry favour with her tonight in his stead. He left of his choice, and just that. Entirely so.
Lazily grabbing two goblets off of a nearby tray, he swept over with silent steps to where Amora stood, leaning ever so slightly against one of the tables. She appeared to have just finished her prior drink, turning to place its empty shell down before another was forced into her hand. Turning back to chastise anyone who might presume to know what she wanted or that if she wanted a drink she would get it her damn self, all insults fell short when the lean figure stood mere inches from her and blue eyes stared right into her jade ones.
âPrinceling.â She greeted him with a cat-like pur in tone, smirking graciously.
âI wasnât aware you were attending this..â pausing only to idly wave with his spare hand. âDrab affair.â Loki uttered, without a formal return of hello.
âIf I had known you certainly were, I would have of course told you.â She uttered with satisfaction upon seeing the annoyance she could see boiling behind the surface of his carefully indifferent expression. It was absolutely a lie, and they both knew it.
âOh I am sure you would have, else you wouldnât have had to attend with that oaf.â He spat back with coiled tension, like a snake preparing to bite.
Tilting her head back an inch as she let out a melodic giggle, and she eyed the mischief-maker with coy attention. Jealousy looked gorgeous on him.
âHad to? I never do anything that I donât want to, as you should well remember. Donât let a title delude you into thinking otherwise.â Amora retorted.
She actually seemed to enjoy this, Loki realised, there was a glee he recognised from her in the verbal sparring, not unlike when they would truly spar with magic or debate some obscure topic in alchemy. The insolence of it!
Brows furrowing, his empty hand grabbed her own tighter than necessary, downing his mead in a single movement, before he began to lead them towards the large space in the centre of the room, without checking if she had even had time to do the same. Which she fortunately had.
By now the evening had fallen into the more rambunctious part of the merrymaking; the feasting tables pushed to the edges of the room, the King and Queen having retired after a final well wish to the newlyweds (which Loki had missed entirely), and a concert of musicians had taken place up on the platform where the bride and groom had once sat, the table pushed aside, and playing jaunty tunes perfect for dance.
If a person wasnât dancing, they were drinking, if they werenât drinking, they were in revelry with their friends, and if they werenât making a fool of themselves with jokes and boisterous games, they were dancing.
Led towards the edge of the whirlwind of figures swaying, spinning and clapping in time to the music, Amora and Loki fell in with the rest of them. Arms locked at the elbows as they twirled, tighter than necessary, hands clapped against each others so hard their hands stung, a different kind of battle waged between them now in comparison to their previous duels.
âGreen always suited you, Loki, but arenât you wearing it a bit too brightly now?â Amora sniped with an impish grin. His glare hardened at that, as he bit back. âEven if I were to lower myself to be jealous, it would not be of you.â
âNow now, thereâs no need to resort to childish insults. Iâm only saying if you were even the tiniest, smallest bit envious.. You only need to admit it. To admit you want something for yourself, is that truly so difficult?â
Wretched woman. She had a way of doing that, Loki thought as they spun into the next dance, tune changing to another similar jig. A way of getting into his head, despite all the wards he kept up against mind reading or divination, peeling back his guards and making his emotions surface without his permission.
âOh it is, isnât it?â She crowed, âYou canât allow yourself to even think it, can you? That you want something.. Someone.. Youâd rather be bitter, jealous, hiding in a dark corner, use it to fuel that directionless ambition and rage.â
Bitch. Stop doing that. He bit back the words before they erupted, temper flaring with a faint green shimmering in his eyes.
âAll you had to do was ask, but who are you to lower yourself to that? All these years of friendship, and you refuse to let a single wall down for me. Why would I not seek the company of someone at least willing to speak honestly with me, if only for a night?â
Hateful witch. Aggravating, alluring, beautiful.. Shit.
Lokiâs eyes widened for a moment, the realisation creeping up his spine like ice and his frown dissipating into a blank expression. Amoraâs own features shod its smirk, eyebrows rising in confusion to his sudden change in demeanour, only to be forgotten seconds later.
He wasnât sure how it happened exactly, it was like he lost all control of himself, bewitched and someone else was driving his motions. One minute they were dancing, then stilled, and in the blink of an eye he was pulling her to the back of the hall. Leading her behind one of the many columns, out of sight from the party yet near enough to hear incoming steps, he pushed her into the marble pillar with a heavy gasp from her lips.
Enough was enough. Damn it all.
Amora wondered if she had pushed him too far, if finally she had teased and played with him more than she ought to have done, and now he would cut ties, call her whore or raise a hand to her, and never speak to her again. She was wrong. She hated being wrong usually, but this time, she was relieved. Discomforting if not for..
In a breath, Lokiâs hands were on either side of her neck, colder than she imagined, and his mouth came crashing down on hers. Warm, soft, and addictive. The shock of it was momentary, before she lost herself in the downfall of all their defences.
*The hall where Thor was to have his coronation in the first Thor movie is said to be right next to the royal palace (the name of which is MCU canon) though I couldnât find a name itself for that place, so hope the reference wasnât too bad? đ
The names used for the guests are also actual figures/gods in Norse mythology, cause Iâm a sucker for it! đ
I have also clarified in the Masterlist, but will again here too, that the first few chapters will be set before the movies but will fall instep with the MCU after maybe the first five? But first Iâm going to focus on establishing Amora and the dynamic between her and Loki before we get to the good stuff!
