Tally Marks

Chapter 12 - Unholy Wrath

Brunhilde stitched up Loptr's arm and watched his expression flicker between disgust and wrath.  They had been dismissed from the Grandmaster's presence once their business had been concluded and he had told her to tend to Loptr's injury and if he still needed her physically.  Val knew Loptr would not want her in that way again that evening, but he would need to vent his anger some how.  "Why don't you go find a tree and punch it for a while," she suggested and Loptr gave her a look, his frown deepening.  "Okay, not in a mood for a light jest."

"I can't believe you are!  After what he made us do!  We were entertainment and he was the rapt audience.  When I think of having to do that in his presence... I can still taste the vomit in my mouth," Loptr said as he yanked his arm away, almost breaking his skin even more by pulling on the thread.  Valkyrie had to let go of it in order to avoid doing that.  She scowled at him.  

"It was a show of dominance, Loptr.  Nothing more.  If you let him make you angry, he wins.  You're not one to let others win," she pointed out.

"If it had only involved me, I wouldn't care so much.  But he dragged you into it.  He saw you in an intimate moment that only I was supposed to see.  Nobody else should see you like that!" Loptr snapped as he finally took the needle and quickly finished stitching himself up, biting the thread to split it.  Brunhilde watched as he tossed the needle away and went to his wash basin, scouring the blood from his skin rather roughly.  Valkyrie finally had enough and stomped over to him, splashing him in the face with his own water.  Loptr just looked at her, unblinking as the liquid slid down his face.  "I wasn't afraid of anything he could do to me or put me through!  I was afraid of how that might affect you!  I'm already scarred!  I've got thick skin," Loptr said, touching the tally marks the covered his body.  His hand went out and cradled her cheek.  

"Are you saying I'm weak?" she asked menacingly.

"I would never assume that.  This is entirely for me.  I'm just being selfish!" Loptr snapped angrily as he pulled away.  "Why do I have this feeling that I was selfish before you took me?  Why do I have this feeling that I was a horrible person?"  Valkyrie reached out to him, but Loptr brushed her aside, slipping a shirt over his head.

"You're not a bad person!  You were never a bad person!  Just misunderstood!" Valkyrie insisted, but Loptr ignored her.

"I need to leave you for a while.  I need to let off some steam," Loptr responded and stepped away.  He slammed the door behind him and flew off down the hall.  The courtiers around him parted and whispered among themselves.  Everyone had seen the marks and knew that he must have been tortured.  Asgardians did not feel pity for victims like that.  If they survived, they were just like anybody else, except maybe stronger.  Loptr managed to find his way to the training grounds; how?  He had no idea actually.  He had the strangest feeling it was from memory, but he could not exactly be sure.

Several Asgardians were training in the yard: regular foot soldiers and the Einherjar.  No actual contestants for the match, so these were the perfect candidates to bear the brunt of Loptr's wrath.  "Who wants to go first?" he asked as he pulled a wooden practice spear from the rack.  The Asgardians seemed unsure at first as to whether or not they should take Loptr up on his offer.  Loptr twirled the practice spear around before letting it rest on his shoulders.  "Come on!  Surely the noble warriors of Asgard aren't afraid of a little scarred Sakaarian like myself, right?" Loptr jabbed.  This earned him an angry growl from one of the younger guards and he came forward, swinging a wooden ax.  Loptr waited, counting the seconds in his head.  Finally, he lashed out with the spear, caught the young guard across the face, and down he went like a load of bricks.  Once he was flat on his back, a compatriot of his sprang forward and Loptr's arm went out, the spear cracking him upside the head.  While he was dazed, Loptr smacked him again and broke his nose.  Loptr dropped the spear for a moment to fling the young man at two others, who had been approaching from behind.  

The Einherjar got involved at this point and Loptr did a quick flip to avoid their practice weapons.  He kicked his spear up off the floor and back into his hand, letting it fly wide in order to create a pocket around him.  Loptr then side stepped as a sword went by him.  He quickly trapped the arm of his assailant between his elbow and torso.  Loptr twisted hard, snapping the tendons and bones easily.  He tossed the man aside like a rag doll before dropping to his knee and bringing his spear overhead, blocking two separate attempts to take him out.  Loptr dropped low and spun on his shoulder blades, tripping up all within a few feet of him.  He sprang up after that and turned around, his practice spear clashing with General Tyr's.  The old general almost let his shock overcome his sense of self-preservation and allow himself to be pushed by the sheer force behind Loptr's blow.  He saw the face of a prince he had presumed dead for a long time.  The white hair and red eyes would never disguise the face of the young boy, who hated training with swords and axes.  Who practiced diligently with his knives and spears.  Tyr felt the pressure Loptr kept applying to the weapons and knew they would only hold up for so much longer.

"Halt this instant!" bellowed a voice and Tyr pulled away; and all the other Asgardians attempted to bow in deference to the All-Father.  Loptr's chest was heaving with his exertion, but he did not lower his spear.  He glanced up at Odin, staring into the tired gaze of the old man.  Something clicked.  He darted forward, the wooden spear raised. 

"All-Father!" Tyr cried out, but nobody was going to be quick enough to stop the Sakaarian from landing a damaging blow.  However, Gungnir appeared out of nowhere and shattered the practice spear into several pieces.  The knife still found its way to Odin's throat and lightly pressed on the soft flesh there.  Odin found himself mesmerized by the red eyes.  They were like rubies now.

I remember when they were more green than the emeralds in my treasury, Odin thought to himself.  Odin felt Gungnir resist the urge to defend him.  Like Mjolnir, it was a living weapon.  However, Gungnir also knew the truth.  It could not hurt Loptr even if Odin tried to wield it in a deadly manner.  Loptr suddenly pulled the knife back and hid it once more; where, Odin had no idea.  He stepped away from Odin and walked by without a bow or anything.

"Are you alright, sire?" Tyr asked as he approached Odin.

"I am as you see.  Unharmed," Odin answered.

"My king, that was-" Tyr started to say before the All-Father cut him off.

"That was nobody.  It was nobody."