Disclaimer: I do not own Thor.
Hagar didn't know she needed to rush. She stopped in Sarai's room to make sure the little princess was still sleeping, taking time to straighten the rest of Sarai's closet. Hagar had enjoyed dressing the little girl in the latest Elvin fashions. She had also been much to happy to throw out the human clothes. Handmade dresses were much cuter.
As she began to wind her way up the steps again, Hagar tried to recall a song her mother had once taught her. She thought about the lyrics as she concentrated on keeping the vial from slipping down her bosom.
How did the song go?
Something something something,
Bells are ever ringing,
Something Something,
The bells continue tinging.
Oh well. It wasn't that important, anyways.
…...
Tartak always hated the smell of blood. Now, as he saw the tears the child was keeping back as he slashed the knife across his upper arm, he began to wonder how wrong his choices in life were. The stench of the iron in the kid's blood hit his nose as he held the small arm over a pot. He shouldn't be here.
Neither of them should.
He didn't question morals when he kidnapped the sphinx. He hadn't thought it a problem as he fed the sarcastic salamander. Tartak didn't even really mind the plan to kidnap some kids. It was just work. Nothing personal.
But the kid bled, just like everyone else. That's when he realized it was wrong. Maybe it was too late, but the boss had just exited the room, and he could run right now. He could head to the kitchens, grab Hagar and make a run for it. Kuthah wouldn't be able to do anything about it, not with his mind becoming more unhinged and his goal so close. He had a chance. A small one, but a chance nonetheless.
Tartak stared at the blood beginning to swirl in the pot and vowed to leave.
Right now.
If only his feet would work. If only he didn't feel so guilty. He helped bring this on a kid. A child.
At that moment Sven choked back a sob causing Tartak to glance up at his miserable face. The servant then changed his vow.
He was a coward, and a worthless one at that, but he wouldn't leave the child to fend for himself. He would stay, and think of something.
…...
Sven felt the fat tears roll down his face and tried to wipe them away. One arm was tied to the stiff wooden chair, and the other was being held by the man who bled him. He wouldn't lose faith that his father was coming for him, but for the first time in his life, he was scared.
When the man holding his arm glanced up from looking at his blood, Sven thought there was a different look in his eyes. Sven sniffed again as the man grabbed the discarded black cloak and wiped the tears away.
"I'll think of something, kid. I'll think of something."
Sven suddenly felt less lonely.
Sven almost felt like grinning again when his dad burst through the door. Showy magic? That wasn't his style. His dad must have a plan.
But when Loki's face paled, and Sven looked to see the small puddle of blood he had lost, he began to see the anger in his father's eyes. The clenched hands and magic zinging between both of them made Sven draw in a breath to tell his father the first fundamental rule of being a magic user. Never lose your cool.
A shadow passed in the hall and his father crumpled to the ground. Sven could feel the tears coming to his face again when the man beside him mad a shushing noise, and winked.
"It'll be okay, kiddo. Just watch."
…...
Kuthah tried an evil laugh as he stalked in the room. The amulet was broken, but he had what he needed now.
And the dad could watch. It gave the whole affair a slightly more evil feel.