** Written with Guine's input and permission.
Word Count: 990
Valhalla was bruised and bloody when she finally saw him.
Five officers brought him into the room—a Captain in the lead, two others guiding Valhalla by the arms, with a pair of Lieutenants bringing up the rear. It was a necessary show of force, for Valhalla struggled at every turn, bucking wildly in an attempt to free himself. The effort was useless, of course. Even had he managed to break free, he would not get far with chains wrapped around his body, keeping his arms restrained behind his back and stiffening his movements.
Ganymede rose to her knees, gripping the bars of her cage like she meant to tear them apart. She took in Valhalla's condition, his bruised and swollen face, the dried blood along his hairline, his battered body. They'd removed his helmet, his cape, his boots, and is armor, leaving him in nothing more than his dark leggings and the linen shirt beneath his chainmail.
He looked at her with such a fierce look in his eyes that Ganymede was almost able to grasp for some of her lost hope, but it lasted no longer than a few moments. The officers forced Valhalla to his knees a few yards away from Ganymede's cage and took up their positions around him.
“You will tell us what you know,” the Captain said, “or the Knight will pay the price.”
“I've already told you,” Ganymede said. “I don't know anything.”
The Captain's eyes flared, quick to rage.
They beat Valhalla in front of her. The two Captain who'd led him in continued to hold him upright on either side, while the two Lieutenants went to work on him. They punched more bruises into his face, kicked the air from his lungs, opened the wound on his side so blood dripped to the floor.
Valhalla never made a sound beyond a cough or a groan. He did not scream or bow his head, he did not curse them or beg for their mercy. Instead, he continued to look toward Ganymede with that fierce look in his eyes, feeding her silent reassurances and asking for her strength in turn.
She gave as much as she could. She watched without turning away, even as her empty stomach twisted into knots and her hands trembled on the bars of her cage.
Only when they dragged him from the room again, leaving an ugly red streak of his blood on the floor, did Ganymede allow herself to cry.
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They came for her next, what felt like days later but what could have just as easily been hours—the three Captains and the two Lieutenants.
She studied them as they drew closer, not the Captains so much as the Lieutenants, because it was the Lieutenants who had harmed Val and it was their expressions that disturbed her most. One she recognized, curly brown hair and petulant eyes, younger than she was by half a decade. The other was his equal in stature, and just as young, a pretty blonde thing with eyes that sparked in excitement.
The Captain in the lead unlocked her cage. The door swung open only wide enough for the other two Captains to enter. She struggled when they took her by the arms, but they gripped her too tightly for her to break free. They dragged her from the cage the same as they'd dragged Valhalla. The two Lieutenants took up their rear positions obediently, muttering abuse and obscenities as she was led from the room.
She hadn't the awareness to observe her surroundings as she was taken through an unfamiliar building, so focused was she on what lied at the end of their journey. She was brought to another room, smaller than her own, where Valhalla kneeled chained to the floor.
He was no less bruised or bloody, his linen shirt soaked red on one side. Beneath the gash in the fabric Ganymede could see traces of fresh bandaging. Someone had taken it upon themselves to restitch his would and see that he didn't bleed out.
She doubted they'd been kind enough to give him something for the pain.
Ganymede watched his face pale when she was brought in. She tried to look at him the way he had, to show him her resolve, to make the same silent promises, but seeing him chained there broke something inside of her, and she began to struggle like a wild animal. The captains held her by the arms and forced her down the same as they had Valhalla.
They did not even bother to give Valhalla the option of speaking. As soon as her knees hit the ground, the Lieutenants were called to approach and began a merciless onslaught. The one she recognized put more strength behind his blows than the blonde, though both seemed to find some satisfaction in seeing her subdued. They punched and kicked and pulled her hair. They forced her face into the floor and brought their fists down hard against the back of her head. One ground the heel of his boot into her broken wrist. Ganymede heard a snap and felt a sharp, burning pain.
She cried out where Valhalla hadn't. Valhalla cursed at them, spat threats like he had the power to make good on them, struggled against his chains and shouted until his voice went hoarse. But the agents only laughed. They sought no answers, only pain.
When they were done they pulled her to her feet by her hair. They dragged her away as Valhalla continued to hiss and spit and strain from his place on the floor.
Tears and blood streamed down Ganymede's face, and the fog of semi-consciousness beckoned her, but she fought against it and struggled against her captors. She turned to meet Valhalla's eye as she was pulled roughly to the door.
“I love you!” she screamed. “I love you!”
The door slammed shut before she received an answer.
