Asgard! Amanda and Illyana

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Amanda and Illyana, neither guessing that the other's secret identity (or, well, the equivalent), wait while Hel and the Enchantress chat, about midway through the twelve weeks of Asgard.

It was the middle of summer. Obviously, Illyana thought, this was the time in Asgard to be wearing a heavy cloak soaked in glamour magics and sealed with Hel's own uncomfortable shadows. She could barely see her face in the mirror wearing the damn thing. The goddess's instructions had been quite clear on their journey to the palace: She was to remain inconspicuous, keep the castle owner's servants from doing anything too interesting, and, most importantly, observe things carefully. 'Inconspicuous' meant no magic, since the Enchantress could apparently smell it ten miles off, and Hel wished to keep Illyana around for "the foreseeable future". It also meant that she had to remain cloaked for the entire visit, no matter how long it took.

Being Hel's slavegirl was not nearly as fun as the job description implied.

They were at the gates of the castle, and Hel -- decked out in her usual all-encompassing shadows -- wisped through the doors, leaving Illyana to wave the doorman away and enter. She stood for a moment in the face of the magics flowing freely, less awed than slightly impressed, before trudging along after her so-called mistress. No magic meant no sword, and she felt definitively uncomfortable without a sword to even out the odds in this place. They climbed stairs, ventured down hallways, and made their way to what Illyana presumed to be a throne room.

"Silence," Hel commanded, when they had reached what Illyana could only assume was their final destination. Illyana did not mention that she was being silent. Hel had made it quite clear that insolence was not the order of the day, today or any day worth noting. Hel pointed a long, draping finger at a door off to one side: "You will wait here until I my business is concluded," said the goddess, a command which perplexed Illyana. What was she supposed to "observe" if she wasn't attending the meeting?

No sense arguing it, not with Hel in the mood to make trouble and in the position to make her life much more uncomfortable. Illyana sighed, nodded, and pushed the heavy door open, revealing a wall lined with uncomfortable-looking chairs and a blonde girl dressed in something awful and frilly.

Amanda looked up at the newcomer with thinly-disguised annoyance - she'd been dragged from a rather enjoyable dalliance with one of the manservants (and hadn't she gotten a lecture about standards for that) by Amora telling her Hel was visiting, and she was to entertain and otherwise keep distracted anyone accompanying her. A test, of
sorts, and a response to Amanda's complaints about not being able to leave the castle. Although, as far as Amanda was concerned, avoiding Hel was a good thing - the goddess of death had a way of looking at her that made her feel distinctly uncomfortable.

It was hard to tell much about Hel's servant, who was enshrouded in cloak and shadows. Remembering the manners the Enchantress had spent long hours drilling her in, Amanda stopped scowling and gave the person a welcoming smile. "Welcome. My Lady mother asked me to see to your comfort - can I take your cloak?"

Oh, fantastic. She was supposed to observe *this*? "No," Illyana said shortly, feeling no compulsion to be polite to a bloody princess, no matter what Hel would say. "I would much rather keep it." She struggled for something to say to this – whatever she was, whoever she was, not that it mattered in the long run. She took a seat gracelessly. "I am known as -- the Ambassador," she added after a moment, in a very bad temper indeed.

Amanda raised her eyebrow, both at the reaction and the name. At least she had a gender, from the voice - this 'Ambassador' sounded like a girl not a lot older than she was. "Your Excellency," she said with a mocking half-curtsey before taking a seat opposite the other girl. "So, what need does the Goddess Hel have for an ambassador?"

"I didn't ask," Illyana said, shrugging, although the effect was mostly lost under the heavy layers. "I tend to her bidding when she needs me and don't when she doesn't." She felt a strong – if irrational -- dislike for this girl, probably stemming from the fact that the other blonde was obviously a daughter of some value, possibly an heir. Useless nobility serving more useless, albeit powerful, nobility.

'So, a glorified errand girl with delusions of grandeur.' The thought was on the tip of her
tongue, almost uttered aloud, which surprised Amanda - Amora had been very clear on the whole 'ensure our guest wants for nothing' thing, and Amanda was very obedient to her mother's wishes. It didn't pay to be otherwise. But this 'Ambassador'... there was something about her that raised her hackles.

"So it seems we both serve powerful women," she settled for, her shrug much more effective for being seen. "Can I offer you refreshment, at least?"

"It does seem that way," Illyana agreed, going for impassive and missing; more like irritated, if she was honest. Didn't matter anyway; Hel hadn't said she had to be -nice-. "I'm fine, thank you," she added, though the thanks came out stilted. Not that she thought anyone was going to poison her, but she'd already been eating Hel's food for a good while, and it wouldn't be very intelligent to add more danger to her nutrition.

Fine, she'd done the hospitality thing and been rebuffed - Amora couldn't fault her manners if their 'guest' was a rude bitch. Amanda idly conjured a goblet of wine for herself, more to give herself something to do with her hands than anything else. Amora frowned on her nail biting as unseemly in a young lady of her standing. As she sipped, she tried to think of something to say, and came up blank; the usual courtly pleasantries would not be received well, she was guessing.

Oh, gods, one of those. Illyana was glad for the cloak when she felt herself wincing, quite unexpectedly, at the girl's magic. She'd seen the trick plenty of times, but it still made her twitchy – probably because she'd seen Belasco use it at will. Possibly because when she tried it, nothing turned out properly. Mint-flavoured chicken, that kind of thing. She swallowed her reaction, and not being much of a conversationalist, sat back carefully -- not to appear relaxed, but rather to settle in. Hel seemed to take ages whenever her servants were noticeably displeased with the scenery, and Illyana assumed this would be no different.

Oh, this was going to be fun. They were both going to sit here looking at each other until Amora finished her business with Hel - Amanda itched to just leave, but she knew better to incur Amora's wrath, and she had been most specific... Impatiently, she finished off the wine and 'ported the goblet away. She glanced over at the Ambassador. "So, it seems to me this could go two ways. One, we sit here like a pair of gargoyles, not saying anything. Or two, we try and pass the time with some attempt at conversation. It doesn't even have to be polite, just something other than silence." Amanda really didn't think she was going to get a reaction out of the other girl – she seemed a most unco-operative sort, and unimaginative into the bargain. Typical of Hel's servants.

-That- was irritatingly reasonable. Since when were people in this bloody place reasonable? "I don't have much in the way of conversation that would interest a lady of your -- stature," Illyana said, a note of weariness creeping into her voice despite her best efforts.

"Then forget my stature," Amanda said, catching that weary tone and her curiosity rising. She kept her tone neutral and just a little bored. "It's wearisome, listening to silly girls speaking of marriage and romantic liasons and the like. And I'm not permitted to leave the castle, so I find myself a prisoner to mindless conversation." Except the magical aspects, of course, but _that_ was definitely not on the list of topics for discussion.

"Sounds boring," Illyana conceded, wary but not overly concerned; she knew how to keep things under control. "I've had some experience with people like that," she added, amused.

"I'm surprised - I would have thought Hel's court was above such banal things." Amanda shrugged, with a rustle of silk. "And Hel seems unlikely to tolerate silly girls and their banter."

"Oh, she doesn't. Not for long." Illyana shifted in her seat, not relaxing, but settling in. If this was going to be a long stay... "Nonetheless, I have come across one or two of the types you mention in my travels with my mistress." She had a fleeting flash of nostalgia for the mansion, with its gossip and drama and distinct lack of -other- underworld queens, but pushed it away tiredly.

"Sometimes I think if they had an original thought their heads would explode," Amanda said with a smile. "And then they'd be concerned that the mess clashed with their gown colour."

"But only if red wasn't in style anyway." Illyana smiled, uneffective as it was largely unseen, but her tone was purely amused.

Amanda snorted, not exactly a ladylike reaction, but she was enjoying this. "Unless of course real ladies don't bleed, they just expire quietly in the corner." She shook her head. "Gods, they really are a collection of whittering morons."

Illyana laughed quietly. "Quite," she agreed. "I've never understood why it's so hard to develop some bloody common sense along with the keen eye for colour."

"They seem to think being brainless makes them attractive to men," Amanda said scornfully. "As if that was the only important thing. And as if any man who likes his women with a brian the size of a pea would be worth having."

"Never realising, of course, that those kinds of men will be on to the next stupid tart by day's end," Illyana added, in a similar tone. "Idiots."

"Although, some of the men aren't exactly gifted with intelligence. If one more Asgardian oaf with biceps bigger than his head attempts to woo me with his ability to consume an entire ox..." Amanda shook her head with a wicked smile. "Well, actually, the last one who did spent the rest of the evening thinking one of my mother's troll bodyguards was the most beautiful creature he'd ever met. I believe he'll be able to walk unaided in another week or two."

"An entire ox?" Illyana shook her head. "Ugh. Not an exceptional talent, although that's certainly an effective way to deal with them. Hel mostly goes in for sending them to the mines, the ones who annoy her."

"My way is more entertaining," Amanda smirked. "An yes, an entire ox. It truly was revolting. I mean, I've been called the Bottomless Pit..." She paused, blinking. It was true, she had been called that, but she couldn't remember when and who by.

"Much more entertaining, but then you should see the silly noblemen after a week or two of mining for coal." If Illyana noticed Amanda's confusion, she didn't show it. She looked up when she heard footsteps. "Sounds like my mistress has concluded her business," she murmured, glancing over at the other girl to validate her reaction.

Amanda nodded, the moment of bewilderment quickly passing as she felt the familiar touch of Amora's magic. "It seems so." She rose, teleporting the goblet away with a careless gesture. "I thank you, for conversation that _didn't_ include gown colours," she said, smiling a little.

Because she knew Amanda couldn't see her face, Illyana nodded graciously, hoping the sentiment would be understood to be shared. "And I you -- for one that didn't involve violence or politics," she said. Hel swept into the room imperiously, knowing there was no need to speak for her servant to understand her will, and Illyana lifted a veiled hand in farewell.