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Weakness was not something Valhalla liked to associate with himself. It was not so much physical strength that he desired, but the strength to continue even though hope seemed lost. Too many others had already spent countless hours trying to help. Those who knew him offered him advice and assistance, and those who did not know him risked themselves and their safety, since he was a stranger to them and they had no reason to trust him.

He knew the chances of being able to learn something new, and the consequences of his actions. He’d been right in that his body would be weakened with the removal of his starseed, no matter how temporary. Each time it happened, the results became more and more severe.

He felt weak now, his arms shaking as he held himself off the ground. Helpless and at the mercy of those around him. One he knew was Hvergelmir; her kindness a beacon in the dark. The other, whose aura he could not feel (as he had not been able to feel auras since before his near corruption), was a complete mystery. An ally of Hvergelmir’s, of course. Someone she trusted with this task. But all Valhalla knew was that they were an officer of the Negaverse.

The balm of the knight’s magic was a steadying warmth that encompassed him, and he did not know how he could ever repay her for her generosity. Her hand was against his back to try and help calm him, some color returning to his face in shame and embarrassment for reacting to the experiment in such a way. He was a grown man completely crumbled onto the ground, and while he knew Hvergelmir was likely too compassionate to think poorly of him, it didn’t mean he had to like it.

He coughed and gasped, trying to draw air back into his lungs, a small amount of relief settling as he felt her hands reach to untie his blindfold, and he eagerly raised a hand to remove the earplugs that kept his senses blacked out.

“I’m okay,” he promised, not wanting her to worry over him, although his voice wasn’t as convincing as he’d hoped, just as shaky as the rest of his body.

Valhalla shifted, wiping the back of his trembling hand over his mouth, and then at the cold sweat along his brow, before glancing up to the Cosmos knight -

Only to feel as though his heart would stop.

He’d thought Hvergelmir’s companion would have left by now. Valhalla knew all the precautions were so that he wouldn't know who this person was, this… giant of a man… and a General by the looks of it, although without being able to feel auras, he had no way of being able to tell for sure.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled weaker than before, unsure of what was expected of him. Should he have not looked? Maybe he misunderstood when Hvergelmir was adjusting the blindfold. Maybe she meant to tighten it and he just… mistook it for trying to remove it…

He glanced to her warily, trying to get a hint as to what he should do, other than sit on the ground, one hand grasping at the cloak she’d placed over him like a lifeline.

“I didn’t mean -” he started, breathlessly, trying to tamp down the fear that swirled in his heart. Even though Hvergelmir trusted this man, what would he do now that Valhalla had seen him? Take him to be corrupted? If that happened, Celsus already knew to kill him when their paths crossed, so he wasn’t so worried about that.

Torture, on the other hand… He didn’t know if he was strong enough to withstand more torture like he’d already experienced a couple years back.

Hvergelmir caught the rising panic in Valhalla's tired eyes, his strained voice -- then she watched as Titan eased him off the ground to settle him back on the bench again. He was always gentle with her -- but he was gentle with most things, in a way that told her he'd been moderating his size and strength his entire life, and was well accustomed to making the adjustment. The General handled the knight with as much delicacy and careful regard as he had handled his starseed.

"It's alright," she told Valhalla, shuffling over to kneel at the side of the bench, to stay near without putting her knees in damp earth where he'd been ill. "He won't hurt you. He chose to stay."

It wasn't an assumption she would've made of any other Negaverse agent. To presume their harmlessness would've generally been borne as an insult: it would have implied she had some power over them to compel their good behavior. With Titan -- although she was somewhat sure he would've taken the order, had she given it -- this wasn't a command, but merely an understanding of his character as he'd displayed it to her. He favored an old sort of honor. She had dealt gently with his wounded comrades, and she suspected it was in him to do the same. Hvergelmir well imagined that it would take Titan's beloved Obsidian returning from their long estrangement and giving the command before Titan would turn his warhammer against a defenseless, wounded enemy.

But to her, Titan was a trusted and loved friend. To Valhalla, Titan was a dangerous, and frankly gigantic, stranger. It was important that he understand.

"My oath forbids me from raising arms against any Negaverse agent on penalty of death. I arranged this meeting, so your actions may be my responsibility to bear, if you tell anyone what you saw here and that leads him to any harm. My life is in your hands -- please keep this secret."

Hvergelmir had never tested the exact boundaries of her oath down to its strictest nuance. She had faint memories, drawn from future-dreams, of her left side growing numb as the feeling of ice unfurled from her oath-mark and crawled toward her heart in warning -- but what she understood of that was that her oath was not a game to be played of wordsmithing: it was something to be taken seriously. She was not responsible for the ill deeds of others -- but she was responsible if she took actions with ill intent.

She preferred not to risk it.

But Valhalla didn't seem prone to hotheadedness, or to answering a good turn with a bad one. It was probably fine.

"Try not to move," she said, tucking her cloak in around him more securely. "Let your strength come back to you. My friend here was very delicate with your starseed, but you've still been through an ordeal."

She pressed her lips together: grim, serious, but not quite frowning. "Valhalla -- can you describe your Wonder to me?"

The smallest of thank yous had an endearing quality and curiosity inherent to it: why so small, from such a knight? There may be a great history behind the man, the current Valhalla, and the the general’s single cog in the much larger story of the Negaverse. The words further on seemed meant for each other only, rather than any particular need to him. The Lady Hvergelmir’s Oath was powerful, and Valhalla’s assertions were strange in any relation to it to Titanlåvenite’s slow pate. What is Innocence to Valhalla? Maybe it is different from what it is to Hvergelmir. And to Metallia. Perhaps I should have left right away. I do not think she means it a correction, but my choice put her in poor position. It put her in danger because of that oath. It is something to think about long and seriously. One oath can bind more than the speaker to it...even if they didn’t speak it.

It was all a good distraction for listening to the information about Valhalla, which he should have no part of, and from the slightly painful throb like a bass drum in his ribcage.



In hearing and in plain sight of Valhalla could be just as dangerous to Hvergelmir, with all the rest, to showing just how much she was loved in token of taking leave. So, remained Valhalla himself, Titanlåvenite gave the Jupiter Knight's shoulder a hopefully reassuring pat of encouragement before standing back and vanishing away.