Heart of the Mountain

Enchantress knows the immobile Destroyer is of little use. “This grotesque form can be resumed easily enough; yet I draw now into my eternally beauteous body” she thinks, transferring back into the body she’s brought back to within an arm’s length, with but a pass of her hand. Before the Enchantress touches the ground, she levitates, fully possessed of her own consciousness, outside the stone-frozen Destroyer. “How much this pleases me,” she coos, “to have you all now beside me, free of that loathsomely obsessed form!”




There is no defensiveness in her posture, effortlessly displaying her most charming self as the remaining Thor, Iron Man, and Captain America approach her from thirty or so yards away.
She Hulk digs into the stones fallen beside the dazed Grey Gargoyle, who takes several of these to the head. Determined to reach the person on the other side, she quickly excavates Sgt. Holt out of rubble. She also takes a formidable boulder and throws it at sputtering Midnight Sun, whose damaged aero discs, he assesses, serve little further purpose indeed after Hawkeye’s attack.
In fact, Iron Man still ponders the effectiveness of the cobalt ray treatment in restoring the avenging bowman, when he turns his immediate attention to the gaze of the lithe, unguarded, soft-eyed
Enchantress: What now have you to give me?
A girl on her special day?
Thor: What designs have ye on the Destroyer?
Enchantress: I’m quite happy to be free now in my own body. I’m so much more comfortable this way!
Captain America closes his eyes, shrugs and says: Remember what she’s...capable of!!!

"Darling, you truly have NO idea," she says, lowering her chin, gazing out and upwards. She shakes her head ever so much back and forth, and even the star spangled Avenger cannot help but notice the benevolence of whatever force in the universe makes such golden tresses. He finds---despite himself---he marvels at the centuries of mysteries that have crossed her fascinating lips.
“I’ve no special reason to harm you, brave Captain,” she replies, as snake arms of ectoplasmic substance venture into the cavern, seeping like vapors through the dusty aperture that lies beyond Thor’s arched back, flowing past his crimson cape to seek passage where none seems possible.
“You warriors would do well to partake of the wine with me! Even a goddess may some day celebrate, for such is the blessing to one who would enjoy long life, that we may connect the years out of mind with memory.”
“Drinking on the job wouldn’t be too much smarter than fighting the Destroyer!” quips Iron Man.
Thor finds his attention split between the apparently harmless mist and the soothing warmth he feels tingling his skin, as he closely watches without speaking.

“I drink of many things, armored hero,” she replies, walking towards him as his boot jets bring him steadily to the ground. “We self-made wizards know like no other the thrill of our plans acting out in time and fortune! Yet is it any wonder we seek release from the brilliance of invention in an equal genius for...animal pleasures?”
The drifting hands reach the other side of the fallen rock pile which shifts, disheveled, before She Hulk’s tremendous strength and speed. Each takes hold of the two Norn Stones
“This is not the conversation I flew in here to have, Enchantress,” replies Iron Man, relaxing to a degree that distresses the alert Steve Rogers.
“Iron Man, you’re not asking enough questions!”
“Truly, there is much about which we might converse!” she says with a playful laugh. “Can you feel me surrender with such a fierce spirit in my presence? The time for helmets and shields is done, fair one. Let slip the cogs of war.”
“There’s...a lot I’d like to let slip,” replies Iron Man, perilously close to removing his helmet.
“As your fellow Avenger, I bid you beware,” mumbles Thor.
“Old friend, there’s no need for anyone here to feel jealous. I see everything this day I want, sitting precious in my hands!”
The man clutching the Norn Stones clings for dear life, dragged across the cave floor.
“How darling, you should hold the hands of my mind,” she says to him, beckoning for effect with her repetitively curling finger. “Never let it be said, Amora has not love enough for all she deems worthy!”
Her eyebrows arch; her cheeks squeeze high and tightly; her eyes dazzle with the essence of desire.




(wasn't THIS interlude a surprise? Surely you haven't yet forgotten the mysteries due, next blog? If you have...you are certainly, understandably, forgiven. But turn in your Avengers Membership Card at the door!)