The Many Adventures of the Avengers and Friends

💛✨No One Mourns the Wicked (Part 1)

~Asgard~

"Good News! She's dead! The Witch of Asgard is dead! The wickedest witch there ever was, the enemy of all of us here on Asgard is dead! Good news! Good news!" All around the planet of Asgard, the people celebrated. No longer trapped by fear and terror, they could finally walk freely. Outside the front of the palace was what one would consider to be a sort of "town square" where most of the celebrating was being held. From the palace came a blonde woman in a pale green dress and a wide smile on her face.

"Look! It's Amora!" Someone called. The people began to cheer as she stood out on the dais at the top of the stairs. She waved at people with a kindness in her eyes that also seemed to hold distant pain.

"It's good to see me, isn't it?" She asked with a laugh. The people generally gave a noise of agreement. "No need to respond, that was rhetorical. Fellow Asgardians... Let us be glad, let us be grateful, let us rejoicify that goodness could subdue the wicked workings of... You know who. Isn't it nice to know that good will conquer evil, the truth we all believe'll by and by. Outlive a lie for you and-"

"Amora!" Someone interrupted her. "Exactly how dead is she?"

"Because there has been so much rumor and speculation... Innuendo and out-uendo, let me set the record straight." Amora replied after a pause, considering her words. "According to the Time Dragon clock, the melting occurred at the Thirteenth hour, the direct result of a bucket of water thrown by a female child. Yes, the Wicked Witch of Asgard is dead."

The people re-ignited their celebration with whoops and hollers, streamers and confetti being thrown up into the air.

"No one mourns the wicked. No one cries they won't return." One man proclaimed.

"No one lays a lily on their grave." The crowd replied.

"The good man scourns the wicked." Another man added.

"Through their lives, our children learn, what we miss when we misbehave." A crowd of women continued.

"And goodness knows, the wicked's lives are lonely. Goodness knows, the wicked die alone. It just shows when you're wicked, you're left only on your own..." Amora continued the sentiments of the people. She climbed down the stairs to mingle amongst the large crowd.

"Yes, goodness knows, the wicked's lives are lonely. Goodness knows the wicked cry alone. Nothing grows for the wicked, they leave only what they've sown..."

"Amora, why does wickedness happen?" One younger woman asked.

"That's a very good question, one that many people find confusifying. Are people born wicked? Or do they have wickedness thrust upon them. After all, she had a childhood. She had a father, who just so happened to be the governor of the village of Castamere." Amora replied, almost painting a magical picture of the people she was describing.

"I'm off to the assembly, dear!" A man's voice rang out.

"And she had a mother, as so many do." Amora continued, next showing the image of a young woman.

"How I hate to go and leave you lonely." The man told his wife.

"That's alright, it's only just one night." The woman replied.

"But know that you're here in my heart while I'm out of your sight." The man leaned in to kiss the woman, only for her to jerk her head to the side at the last second to avoid the contact with her lips. She waved him off out of the small house before harshly wiping her cheek in disgust. Clearly it was a one sided relationship; the woman was not in love with the man. This was further evidenced by the woman dancing with another man later than night.