outlawarcher answered your ask “It was now Valter's second official trip to Nohr as a diplomat from...”
Niles had definitely confused Leo by volunteering so fast to greet the diplomatic mission when it arrived. Thankfully, his liege hadn’t questioned the eagerness too much, and he had allowed Niles the job.
Which was how he found himself waiting outside the castle, uncharacteristically excited. He stood up straight when he heard the carriage pulling up, stepping over to see the man inside. “Valter. Nice to see you again~”
Valter gave a soft chuckle as he exited the carriage. “Amazing... You actually make that statement sound believable. How did you manage to pull that one off?” he teased quietly with a wink.
He almost wanted to hug the man, a kind, familiar face after what he’d gone through -- what they both had been put through. He couldn’t help but admire for the umpteenth time the young archer’s resilient nature and willingness to forgive. He truly felt as if the man accepted him as a friend. The past from when he was taken over by a hostile entity was all but forgotten. No small feat, considering the atrocities he’d seen.
But that was all in the past now, he thought with a relieved sigh. Repeated exorcisms had cleared his mind -- probably not for good, but it was clearly enough to keep what had inhabited him from taking root in his mind once more. Each time was just a bit easier than the last. He felt like a newly freed man.
He offered his countless manuscripts for detailed schematics up for Niles to see. “Here it is... The culmination of 9 months of hard work -- all here. I feel as though I’ve just went through weeks of my own kind of labor,” he chuckled softly, but with his face beaming with pride.
This has been a long time coming. I hit a bit of a wall working on drafts, so I thought I’d lay out some more headcanons about Valter when he’s not under the influence of the Lance. Previous Lance HCs are [here] and [here]!
Pre-Lance Valter
I’m sure I’ve gone over this before, but Pre-Lance Valter wasn’t really notable for much outside of kind of being a dick, honestly. He was a self-important Imperial General for Vigarde, whose best quality was his work ethic. His job mattered more to him than anything else -- to the point where, even when his parents were both deathly ill, he didn’t even bother to visit them. He only showed up once they were both dead, to shove his twin brother out of his newly acquired estate.
Pre-curse Valter was not a very pleasant person to be around. While he wasn’t outwardly creepy like he was once he became possessed, he was still quite rude, brusque, no-nonsense, and kind of a killjoy in many respects. He obviously held himself in high regard, and anyone who bruised his fragile little ego earned themselves a fast ticket to his shitlist from then on.
Despite that, he was still generally well-liked. He didn’t discriminate on others in the military based on his noble birth, was very useful when it came to training new recruits, had a lowkey hilarious sort of dry humor, and even had a functioning Code of Honor that dictated how he treated those under him! While he wasn’t a good person by any means, he was, at least, a decent enough person.
So when his behavior suddenly shifted to something WAY beyond his character after getting the Lance, it came as a huge shock. Suddenly, there was no filter between his subconscious mind and his actions -- every violent slaughter he’d thought about but never wanted to commit because it was “against his values” was suddenly on the table. Every girl he’d catch himself checking out even though he knew she was underage, but would never actually attempt to pursue was his PREY. The Lance took every hidden desire and broadcasted it.
Post-Lance Valter
After years on end of being used as a puppet to feed the Lance with his carnal desires and brutal assaults, suddenly being free of its influence would feel a lot like waking up after being buried alive in a coffin. Dark, dreary, and utterly hopeless.
All the Lance did was loosen his inhibitions, after all. It was Valter himself who always tried to find new and more creative ways to wreak havoc. Valter would have full recollection of EVERYTHING he did under the control of the Lance -- no Magical Amnesia to save him like what happened to Lyon. It would crush him. To know just how much he did -- willingly -- only because he COULD.
He’d immediately become reclusive and ashamed of himself. Every captive he owned would be set free posthaste, along with promises he’d do everything he could to speed their recovery, should they want his help. His hired hands around the castle that he so often made clean up after his messes or would occasionally be subjected to his horrors directly would be sent home with full pay for the next 10 years. They’d deserve it after everything they were forced to witness.
Valter would be a completely changed man. Seeing that part of him -- that side that he now recognized was always sleeping within him -- that part that he knows never truly went away... It would torment him. He’d suffer from very acute depression and even PTSD because of it all -- unable to go into certain chambers of his house or even hold a weapon because of the memories they would provoke. He’d probably even be suicidal in most cases.
Unable to come to terms with what he’d done, his only recourse would be to try to do some good -- any kind of good -- with the time he certainly didn’t deserve to have back. He’d become a big-name philanthropist, throwing his money at several causes and even developing others, in a desperate attempt to not just be known throughout history as the “Man who went crazy and killed and raped like 200 people”.
His parents’ massive wealth would likely be drained, and he’d sell his estate to renovate it into a shelter or orphanage or something. He’d spend the remainder of his life on the outskirts of Grado in a modest cot for the rest of his (likely very short) life.
Also, Chetak would be given away after he came to his senses! He’d feel too bad for spending the past decade or so abusing her when all she ever tried to do was please a master that had all his screws loose. She was adopted by an eccentric old, wealthy woman as he “Seeing Eye Wyvern”. Valter still visits on occasion, and Chetak is always so excited to see him!
Valter arrived to the restaurant looking a little nervous and feeling rather out of place. The atmosphere was definitely higher class than the casual cafe they’d gone to during the summer festivities, but after a lifetime of being nobility, such an environment didn’t really bother him much. What he was most nervous about was who he was to be meeting here...
He fidgeted with his cuff links and sipped the red wine in front of him nervously. Would Niles even bother showing up? Guilt still haunted him from when he took the younger outlaw against his wishes and subjected him to... what was probably weeks, if not months of torment. Things were different now, but... Did he even deserve to be granted a second chance?
He sighed anxiously, trying to calm his racing heart and then glanced at his wrist watch. 15 minutes. If Niles didn’t arrive in 15 minutes... He’d excuse himself and pretend none of this had ever happened.
Valter patted his small team of sled dogs fondly, letting them lick his hands and face if they so desired. “I thank all of you for your assistance...” he said quietly. “We weren’t able to win, unfortunately... But I appreciate how you all tried your very best for me... None of my success could have been possible without you... Thank you.”
He discreetly slipped them all a few choice cuts of meaty bones from his spitroasted pig dish, watching as their tails wagged furiously as they enthusiastically crunched on them.
While the dogs were busy he busied himself with untying a sled (after hastily leaving behind a polished jewel as payment for his theft).
“But this is one mission I must carry out on my own... Goodbye friends.”
He slipped out the back, hopefully without anyone noticing and headed out to the wilderness of the icy tundra. He was going to catch a glimpse of that Frost Wyvern if it killed him.
Valter quietly enjoyed some spiced wine as he enjoys his viewpoint at the top of the grand hill, watching the merrymaking going on below. A small group of bunnies huddled close to him for warmth, and he rewarded them by clinging the quilted blanket even closer around them.
It had been a while before he felt this way... Content. Happy, even.
@ Valter for ded meme.]] "I've done all I can..." [[post lance? Cause we know Henry wold stick around.]]
RIP
The townspeople had found out that Valter was apparently “changed” again -- this time seeming to miraculously regained his sanity. At first, they ignore his reported change of heart, thinking it was some sort of elaborate hoax to test them. But then... months went by, with no apparent abductions. Trade routes were restored. Past victims returned, telling about the horrors they’d been through.
And the people were angry.
They came as a furious mob in the night, breaking into his house, kidnapping him, beating him soundly, and subjecting him to just a few of the torturous techniques he had once been so eager to try out on others.
There was nothing Valter could say or do to sway their minds -- it was finally time for them to enact vengeance against the tyrant who had controlled them over the better part of a decade. Valter endured it all -- or tried to, at least -- with dignity.
In the end, the people got bored with him, and left his charred body in the midst of the forest, hoping wild animals would quickly tear him to shreds. Valter slowly curled into a ball, waiting for death to claim him. But a voice roused him from the darkness, if only momentarily.
“H... Henry...” he rasped, barely recognizable with so much of his body burned away. “Y... You’re free now... Understand? Free... As I am, now. Truly free...”
( A dumb drabble I wrote up around the events of @solsticecelebration-winter. Will be updating in short installments. )
Just after sundown, Valter slowly came to a stop in front of the gaping wide maw of the impressive looking cavern. There were massive claw-marks in the surrounding terrain and the trees scattered all around looked as though they were frozen solid into tree-shaped popsicles -- the ones that were still standing and hadn’t been shattered to pieces, that is. Ice stalactites overlooked the top of the opening, almost like sharp rows of teeth.
It had to be the den of the feared Frost Wyvern. Finally... He hadn’t been able to catch sight of it during his journeys, but... He’d finally be able to see it for himself now. No more blurry pictures or hushed legends to tide him over.
He crouched beside the sled he’d “borrowed” and carefully undid his jacket. “Alright, you two... playtime is over...” he whispered quietly, giving it a little shake. Before long, two soft, fuzzy rabbits grudgingly came tumbling out. They shivered a bit, not enjoying the bitter cold of the night’s air and looked back up at him, as if pleading for more time inside his coat.
He smiled a bit, regretfully patting one on its fuzzy head. “So sorry to wake you... But this is too dangerous for me to risk your lives, friends.” He sighed, buttoning the heavy coat up once again, and lowering the flame of his lantern to a dim flicker at most. “Thank you for accompanying me on the long journey... But this is something I must do alone... I hope you can understand.”
One -- a snow-white female (he assumed) just blinked up at him and twitched her little nose, as her tawny colored male friend groomed himself. The two of them hopped back to the low cover of brush once they were convinced he wouldn’t be picking them back up, and Valter assumed that would be the last he’d ever see of them.
Valter sighed, readying the camera tome he’d also seen fit to “borrow”. It had taken him quite a while to figure out how to work the damned thing, but several awful candid shots later, he’d figured it out. He wanted to have something with him so that he could remember this forever. It seemed unlikely that he’d ever be returning, after all...
The goal was simple. He’d go in, hopefully not awaken or anger the massive beast, take a picture, and silently escape. He knew very well how unlikely his chances of success were, and by the stories, the wyvern was uncharacteristically ill tempered, even for a wyvern. Territorial, too. But those risks meant almost nothing to a man whose life held no meaning.
He didn’t understand why, but... Some part of him NEEDED this... After taking another deep breath to steady his heart, and pulling his hat further down his ears, he began quietly making his way into the awe inspiring cavern.
He stepped as quietly as he possibly could, using all his skills as a hunter he’d honed on his family’s mountain range -- now using it as nothing more than stealthy prey. His environment was hard to make out in the low light, but he could clearly make out claw-shaped gouges in the surrounding solid rock of the mountainside. One mark looked about as thick as his entire head in the middle, and he cringed. Why had the mighty beast made these marks? To define his territory? To sharpen or maybe even dull his talons? Simply out of frustration? It was hard to say, but he knew with confidence that he didn’t want to be the one to find out.
He wandered deep inside, noting how the temperature seemed to only drop the further he went in. His fingers already felt numb, even through the thick gloves and mittens he was wearing. He briefly wondered as he shivered if he’d be dexterous enough to operate the tome with fingers as stiff as his, when suddenly, he froze. His heightened sense of hearing thanks to the enchanted hat... That was... definitely breathing. He was getting closer.
He lowered the intensity of his lamp even further, and cautiously pressed onward. To his relief, it seemed as though the beast were in some type of sleep state... Maybe he’d escape the situation unscathed, then.
The light was so dim, Valter nearly walked face-first into a stalagmite, catching himself at the last minute. It wasn’t until a massive gust of frosty air blew into his face that he was able to properly identify it as the horn adorning the snout of the mythical beast. His jaw dropped as he tried to take in the sight of the entire beast -- well, what his eyes could pick up, at least. It was simply massive... A pegasus would be nothing more than a snack to this monster! Or even Chetak!
He knew his time was short. Who knew when this behemoth would wake up, with the scent of prey and a dim light shining so close to its face? With some difficulty, Valter managed to line up the shot as well as he could with only the lantern illuminating the way. Trembling, he snapped the picture, knowing he’d only catch half of it all at once. (R:50!)
His heart quickly flew into his throat.
He forgot to turn off the flash.
Sharp, cerulean eyes snapped open in surprise as Valter stood there, seemingly rooted in place out of fear. A bone-rattling growl sounded from a sneering maw as those eyes quickly focused on Valter in the dim light.
"Suffer, just like I did. Be thankful that the mercy of death will come at the end of it all!" -post Nocturne Inigo (a-dance-just-for-you, for the death meme!)
RIP
Valter barely had time to wonder what the boy was talking about before he was quite rudely bashed in the skull with a large rock. He fell to the ground, mind reeling as the wiry dancer got on top of him and began strangling him.
He was terrified. He had no idea who this young man was. A prior victim of his when he had gone fully mad? No… He was quite sure he didn’t recognize him. The boy was a complete stranger… But seemed to know HIM quite well. There was no mistaking that wild passionate hatred burning in his eyes, after all.
He tried clawing at the fingers around his neck – surprisingly strong for someone so slender – tried to explain to this mysterious lad that things we different now – HE was different, but he couldn’t force the words through.
He wondered if it would have mattered. If he should struggle against this lad in the first place. Whoever he was, it was clear Valter had apparently hurt him quite deeply in the past.
He… He deserved it. He deserved to die – many times over. And this way seemed the most justified – at the hands of one of his prior abuse victims. But still… Now that he was actually in the position…
He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to die. He knew he didn’t deserve it, but… He couldn’t. Not like this! He could still make amends! He could still help people! Make a mark on the world that wasn’t pointless suffering! He was… He was so close… He could be a good person... All he needed was a chance...
He thrashed under Inigo for a little over two minutes, at first trying to abstain from striking the boy directly, but quickly getting more and more desperate as time went on. Eventually, he slowed to a stop and ceased movement entirely, succumbing to unconscious seizures and then, quickly, death.
