♤The Conqueror's Dagger♤

~Chapter 6: Traitor~

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Loki wasn't aware of what time it was when he awoke. Whatever time it was, they both awoke. Loki had gotten at least 8 hours of sleep, he estimated. He had woken again in the middle of the night, thrashing in the throes of another nightmare. Only this time, he'd bolted from the bed and ran to the restroom, emptying out what little he'd managed to consume. Sprite had appeared by his side, offering him water, which he drank like a life preserver. It was. Now, he felt hunger gnaw at him, and thirst scratch his throat. He felt considerably better, and oddly more energized. He sat up and looked over at his daughter, who, was now dressed and held a bowl of mush. She handed the bowl to him wordlessly, almost thrusting it at him. "You look well, Father," she told him. Physically, he felt much better. But his insides were being clawed at. But he couldn't tell Sprite that, of course. Instead, he plastered on his usual smile. "Fine. I'm all right." Sprite nodded, but she could see the mist in his eyes, and knew he was thinking of her. She didn't need to ask- she grew misty eyed herself earlier at the memory of seeing her father so happy for the first time in centuries, sharing a bond outside of friendship. Throughout the year's they'd spent, she was forced to watch her father mourn each partner he'd lost, be there for every heartbreak. And even through the anguish, he'd managed to care for her, heal her when she was sick, feed her, clothe her, and healed her wounds, both mental and physical. She remembered how the fireplace in their old home in England cast a warm glow over his face, focused on wiping the dried blood on her face. Now, she watched as his mind drifted, his eyes lost in a memory as well. She made up her mind right then and there. "I'll be right back," she told him. Loki said nothing, only continued looking up at the ceiling blankly. While he wasn't looking, she swiped at something on top of the drawer in the room, and closed the door to the bathroom behind her.
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Her knuckles turned white as she clutched the edge of the sink, looking down at the TemPad she'd taken. Her father would be furious and worried sick. She knew this much. But after many years of seeing him alone and sometimes gaze at a couple with a darkness in his eyes caused her to snap. He gave her everything he knew, taught her how to be a proper and well-brought up lady. Taught her how to grasp her powers neatly and with grace. She recalled how many evenings he'd spent brushing her hair as a child, twisting it into a braid, going through another lesson with her before she went to sleep. But she knew she had to do this. All her training had prepared her for this. And regardless of the fact that her father would be upset with her, stern with her, unleash his worry and rage on her, she knew this was something that would benefit them both. Everything that would go on in her father's life for the rest of his years would depend on this. And this was the least she could do after the centuries he'd spent looking after her on his own, without the help of her second father. Now, with more adrenaline running through her veins, ignoring her father's voice in her head, warning her, almost taunting her. She picked up the TemPad. She punched her desired location into it. The familiar orange door appeared, welcoming her to step through it. At the same moment, the door to the bathroom had opened, revealing a stunned Loki. "Sprite?" His voice was a question. Sprite felt tears prick her eyes, but fought back against them. "I'll be back with her, I promise." "Sprite, wait! Sprite-" his cries were heard by no one as Sprite stepped through the door, and it disappeared as soon as it had come. Loki banged against the sink. "Dammit!"
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