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He dunked his hand into the water, relief flooding him as he removed it. Warm. Just right. He turned to a half-awake Sprite, and gently moved her away from the wall. "Sweetheart?" Her eyes opened weakly, but no words came from her mouth. "How are you faring?" Sprite didn't respond, only shook her head. "I'm going to give you a warm bath. How does that sound?" Sprite merely nodded weakly, sinking into his embrace. Loki carefully undressed her, avoiding her cuts and bruises inflicted from numerous impacts, still new, but healing. Once he dunked her into the steaming water, she began to tremble like a leaf, her eyes still closed. He scrubbed her hair and body as gently as possible. She flinched whenever he grazed a wound, trying not to cry out as the soap stung them. Once he finished, he dried her, and dressed her in sleepwear, silently thanking the gods that his magic somehow worked. He laid her down in the empty bed in the room, covering her with the sheet. Now, her eyes were slightly more open. The vial was doing it's work. As he checked her temperature once more, a breath of relief whooshed through his ribs. Cooler. Much cooler. But still not cooled down enough. "Are you hungry?" He asked her. Sprite shook her head again. "Tired." He kissed her head. "Sleep, then. She grasped at his arm. "Stay?" The pleading look in her eyes made his heart wrench. "I'll have a bath first. I'll return, I promise. I won't be long. And if you fall asleep again, I won't wake you." She released his arm, then fell back against the pillow. Once ensuring she would remain in that state of calm, Loki himself went in the direction of the bathroom, and closed the door. Once he was alone, he swallowed past the lump in his throat, and turned the shower on with shaking hands. He removed his rings, placing them near the sink. Once he did, the tears finally came. He sat down on the floor, leaning against the sink, tugging at his hair as he sobbed as quietly as possible. He eventually got up and stripped his clothes off, folding them. He allowed the warm water to rinse off the filth and dried blood. Then, not wanting to seem wasteful, he turned the faucet off, the tears along with it. As he dressed once more, he dried his eyes and returned to Sprite, prepared to stay strong as if his life depended on it. He shuddered as a small voice in the back of his head whispered, 'It does.'
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YOU ARE READING
♤The Conqueror's Dagger♤
Fanfiction~He'd never expected this. He just wanted to return home. Now, he had a trapped possible love prospect, and a daughter who didn't know her own power. He's on his own now.
