Chapter Text
FIVE
Lohen knows he's in trouble the moment Varka steps into the medical tent with heavy, tense shoulders. He's oddly quiet as he lets the fabric drop back into place, hiding them from the rest of the world. It leaves them in their own quiet space, with no one but each other in their sights. A couple of lanterns illuminate the inside of the tent, casting some light amidst the darkness of night.
Varka's come back sooner than he thought he would, considering tonight is Moon-Prayer Night. None of the knights would shut up about it the whole day. He couldn't go twenty minutes without hearing some excited babble whenever the knights would pass by the medical tent. By evening, he had been grateful that they all ran off, giving his ears a break. For his part, Varka shared in the excitement right before leaving Favonius Keep. It was a miracle he hadn't been seen around much earlier, wrapped up in something else. Lohen can only imagine how much worse the knights would've been.
With how excited the man had been for an evening full of drinks and stupid sounding games, it's odd that he's already back. He would've thought Varka would've been out far, far later with the Honorary Knight and the others. It's weird, and the tension leaking from him is even weirder. Lohen trains his eyes on Varka, studies him.
Something is off.
There's a brightness the Grand Master usually carries, one that never dulls no matter the situation. In the face of danger, it turns stubborn and fierce, shining over the knights to help push them onward. It's loud with his laughter, his disarming grin, full of a joy that never seems to disappear. Over the years they've worked alongside each other, Varka's brightness has become a constant. A standard. Something to look at and say 'that's our Grand Master!' Because he's as bright as the sun, and his warmth is reliable, relieving to see.
The man in front of him lacks any of it. Something has dulled Varka's brightness, dimmed it down low, smothered it. It's wrong. There's a tightness in his shoulders and back that Lohen isn't quite used to seeing, like he's anticipating something. And when Varka turns to face him, Lohen doesn't know who he's looking at.
Exhaustion lines his face, his hair is mussed, as if he'd been running his fingers through it from stress. His usually well-kept clothes are creased, eyes unreadable. But Lohen can see the heaviness in them, the invisible something that's weighing him down. He's never seen Varka like this before. So rundown. Weary. He looks dead on his feet, bothered by his thoughts. Beneath it all, there is a storm of rage brewing in the depths of his eyes. It's being carefully controlled, minimized and pushed down. Ignored. Stress rolls off of him in thick, shaky waves, and there's something about… him that has Lohen pushing himself to sit up.
He shoots the other a half-hearted smirk, if only to restore the balance that is suddenly lacking. "Back already? I thought you would've been drinking yourself to sleep until dawn."
"Something… came up," Varka says simply, walking over to the chair beside his cot. As he sits, he pushes the air out of his lungs with a dreary sigh. When he fixes his gaze on Lohen, his eyes soften, lightening just a fraction. They still carry exhaustion, edges smoothed by the care he directs at him. "How are you doing?" he asks, even his voice dropping to something gentle and warm, despite the fatigue lining his words.
Lohen lets him, not hounding him with the curiosity that burns the tip of his tongue. He uses it as an opportunity to continue his observation. "Well, I haven't ripped any stitches open, so I'd say great," he hums, innocent.
"Of course," Varka chuckles lightly, the sound ringing with fondness. "You seem more lively, it's good to see."
"Hah!" Lohen throws his head back with a short, wild laugh, grin playing on his lips. "You won't be saying that for much longer. Everyone's getting too complacent without me."
"Speaking of… I heard you had an interesting day." Ah, there it is. The trouble he's in for. When Varka meets Lohen's gaze, he smiles weakly. "Would it kill you to let your body heal up before you try pulling your stunts?"
Lohen huffs at him, leaning back to lay his arm over his chest—an attempt at crossing his arms. "All I did was try to go back to my tent. It's stuffy in here."
"You knocked out Ekbert while he was bringing you food before sneaking out," Varka points out, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"If anything, it's his fault for turning his back to me."
"You're still healing, don't go doing things like that when you-"
"-haven't been cleared yet. Yeah, yeah, whatever."
They both know Lohen isn't going to listen to him, and they both know Varka isn't going to hold him to it for long because—
"…geez, I'll see if you can be moved back to your tent if this place is really bugging you that much." Varka has that terrible habit of bending to him. Lohen doesn't even have to ask. The man lets out a breath, eyes trailing around. "I'd be restless too if I were stuck in here for who knows how long."
"You don't know the half of it," Lohen grumbles, clicking his tongue. Weeks have passed since his fight with Rerir landed him in this very cot, and while he's been healing, it isn't fast enough. He's itching for combat, for danger and adrenaline (proof that he's still alive, that he isn't weak, that no one can control him). Being stuck staying stationary is hell for Lohen, too reminiscent of his younger days when he was forced to sit and make bows, freedom smothered and constantly coddled.
The thought of being stuck in this cot for any longer has his insides twisting, needing to claw their way out until he isn't choking anymore.
Humming, he gives Varka a once over again, eyes narrowing just slightly. He picks his time to strike. "Sooooo, what's got you so tense, hm? Is the Fifth Company falling apart without me?" he asks, lighthearted. "Feel free to be honest, I'll put together some 'special training' as soon as I'm out of here."
Varka doesn't look surprised that he caught on to the man's tense state. Anyone else might've missed it, but not Lohen. He's been watching Varka for years, learning him and how to read him. He knows what to look for, what he tries to hide from others. The finer details, the subtle tells and the like. He probably knows that Lohen figured him out the minute he stepped in range. It doesn't change the state he's in.
"Heh, those guys are doing just fine," Varka says, shaking his head. "That wasn't the issue."
Lohen tilts his chin, pretending to think. "Then, does it have something to do with the fact that you've come back acting like someone threw the weight of the world on your shoulders tenfold?"
He knows he's hit the nail on the head when Varka's face darkens, hands clenching in his lap. "A friend of ours, she disappeared," he admits. "The situation… well, it doesn't look great, honestly. It's hit all of us pretty hard." The frustration leaks freely from his voice, the lid loose and starting to break off. He's likely had the cap tied on tightly the moment things went awry, as Varka tends to do. But now it wanes, in the privacy of this tent, with no one but Lohen watching.
He frowns. "What happened?"
And so Varka explains. He talks about how Moon-Prayer Night had started off just fine. Everyone was laughing together, smiling, and drinking. Nothing had been amiss. Varka's guard had slipped, just slightly, thinking it safe enough for the night. Any direct threats had been taken care of, after all. But all of that changed in an instant, and danger had found them once again. Varka describes how they saw Dottore in the sky, how everything froze, and one moment his friend (the Moon Goddess, apparently) was there, gone the next.
Lohen stiffens at the mention of him, a chill runs down his spine like an electrical current. It's sharp and there before he even realizes. His heart kicks up, a skeletal hand reaching for the doorknob of a closet he's desperately trying to keep shut. Yet the mere thought of Dottore being in the same place as him leaves discomfort and anger prickling his skin. If Varka notices his moment of weakness, he doesn't comment on it.
"After all that, I met with the Lightkeepers to loop them in and then came back here," Varka finishes, a firm frown marring his face. "As you can see, it's been a long night. Shame it had to end on a bad note like this…"
"So he's really here," Lohen murmurs, mostly to himself, something low and grim. "The Doctor."
The nod Varka offers is gentle, understanding. "He caught all of us by surprise."
Lohen twists the blanket under his hand, feeling that familiar anger. It's a feeling that's been sitting around his shoulders since he woke up. Leaning over him, filling his thoughts. The Doctor just had to go and show up now while Lohen is in no shape to fight. He's defenseless, even with his Vision. Not only that, but he's practically useless. That man is here and yet…
A hand covers his own, pulling him from the shadows edging his mind. "Hey," Varka murmurs, swiping his thumb over Lohen's knuckles. He doesn't say anything else, doesn't offer platitudes or empty words of comfort. He asserts himself as a solid presence, and Lohen leans into it. He lets the gloved thumb run across his skin, letting it anchor him in.
"I'm fine," Lohen says, speaking with a confidence he doesn't have. Not right now, with the war brewing inside his head. "So, to summarize, you, the Honorary Knight, and the… rest are planning to rescue this 'Moon Goddess' and stop Dottore."
Oddly enough, Varka leaves his hand where it is. And Lohen doesn't pull away from it. "Pretty much," he hums, "it won't be an easy fight, that's for sure. It'll take everything we've got." His gaze turns apologetic then, and a pit opens in Lohen's stomach. "And speaking of, I have a job for you."
"Oh? I thought I was on bed rest?" Lohen lifts a brow.
Varka huffs at him, fond. "It's for after you're back out there terrorizing us again," he retorts. "I have some letters I'd like you to deliver back home as soon as possible. These are non-negotiable orders as Grand Master, Lohen. So no trying to weasel out of them."
Lohen frowns. "You're sending me back early."
"Well, out of everyone you're probably the fastest here. You run and dart around like some kind of rabbit, haha!" the Grand Master chuckles. The pit grows larger, clawing itself open. "There's no one else here that I trust more than you to get these home. Once we're done here, I'll start sending the other knights home too."
He knows what Varka's doing. He knows exactly what Varka is doing. Drawing Lohen away from the fight and away from the Doctor himself. Keeping him on the sidelines. Is it because he isn't destined for a grand fight like that? Or is it because even Varka knows he's weak?
Lohen's eyes draw down to his lap, once again cursing his powerlessness. Varka and the others are once again facing a powerful foe and he's missing it. It's different from Rerir, because there was no connection then. The Rächer of Solnari was simply a challenge. Lohen had no personal stakes in fighting him, besides his pride, really. But Dottore? One of the two men responsible for everything? Lohen never got a chance to end Eroch himself, with his own two hands. A fact that pointed his dagger toward the very man in front of him for a challenge of strength.
As he is now though, he doesn't think he'd even do much to Dottore either, a painful fact to admit. Not when he's just… mortal. Weak. He's not indestructible, he isn't immune. He can be broken just as easily as anyone else, as he's been reminded rather painfully.
But just being there? Helping to plot that man's demise? He could've lied to himself and said that was enough.
Once again, he doesn't get the chance. Once again, it was taken from him. Because he wasn't strong enough. Because even those around him know he isn't strong enough. It stings. He hates it.
Quietly, Lohen inhales, setting his own grief and bitterness aside. Varka doesn't need to see that. He can't afford to let Varka see it, either. Not this one. Not the cards he holds so close to his chest. It's bad enough the man knows some details, just enough to hold over his head if he so chose to (a fact that Lohen learned a while ago would never happen. But fear is an ugly beast). Allowing Varka to see him that vulnerable leaves his skin crawling. He can't surrender that. So he buries it. He hides it behind a mask, as if it isn't there.
He just needs to be better. Stronger. He needs more strength. Power.
(…maybe this is a mixed blessing?)
"Fine," Lohen grumbles, because there's no point in arguing this time. For all he doesn't respect Varka's authority as his superior, pushing back is pointless. Pulling rank directly like this means the man clearly won't be budging.
"Great. I'll give you the letters when you leave." Varka pulls away, leaving Lohen missing the warmth. Something in his posture looks lighter, as if one small weight out of the many he balances has been lifted. "Oh, and one more thing! Make sure to—" he's cut off by a yawn, "tell everyone to write back, alright?" He fights back a second yawn almost directly after, something that Lohen doesn't miss.
He looks at Varka with clear disapproval, frowning now for a different reason. “You could’ve seen me in the morning, y’know. You're obviously exhausted."
The response he's given is adamant and stubborn, as Varka's expression tightens. If Lohen looks hard enough, he can see the ghosts of distress lingering in his gaze, murky blue muddled by anxiety. “No, it—it had to be tonight," Varka argues, and for the first time all night he sounds shaken, lilt fragile with no hints of bravado. "I just… needed to make sure you were okay.”
Unsure of what to say in the face of Varka's honesty, Lohen bites his lip, hesitating. That familiar fluttering feeling is back, foreign warmth spreading through him. It almost feels like the awe he first regarded Varka with when the man knocked back a tankard full of poison with no issue. And maybe a part of it is, but it feels like more than that.
He looks away from Varka's face, else he feels the urge to throw his dagger at something or someone (Varka himself being the likely target). He fixes his gaze on his chin instead, avoiding the intensity of his eyes. "Well?" he asks, "Have you seen what you wanted?"
"I have," Varka hums, gentle and relieved. "You make me worry too much, you rascal." Lohen can hear the smile in his voice, lighter than before. The chair pushes back against the ground then, armor shifting with little clinks as the other stands. "I guess that's my cue to leave! You should get some rest, can't go overstaying my welcome."
You don't have to go, the words sit trapped in his throat. Lohen doesn't respond.
"Oh! I almost forgot!" Varka reaches into his pocket, walking closer to the cot. "Here, hold your hand out.
"Huh?" Confused, Lohen listens, holding his hand in front of him. Three candies are dropped into his palm, two of them shaped like crescent moons while the third is circular. "What's this?" He holds one up to his face to investigate, the wrapper mint green.
"Moon-Prayer candy." Varka grins. "I would've brought you a sugar sculpture too, but Flins was being… difficult." His cheeks dust red, a slight grumble following his words. "Anyway, I wanted to get you something from the festivities. It uh, didn't feel right without you there," Varka confesses, bashful as he scratches the back of his head with a faint smile.
"You thought about me," is all Lohen can think to say.
Varka answers without hesitation, "I did. The whole time."
Embarrassed, Lohen lowers his hand into his lap to look down at the candies, hiding the vulnerability from Varka. Not that he hides it well, considering the tips of his ears feel warm. At least he doesn't give him the full satisfaction. "…get out of here already, get some sleep before you make yourself look stupid in front of the knights."
"Haha! You're probably right, busy days ahead!" Varka laughs, and finally, some of his brightness begins to return. "Sleep well, Lohen." He leaves, though not before giving him one last glance, as if double checking he really is there.
Once he's alone again, Lohen sighs, staring at the candy in his palm. He stares down at it, heart feeling warm. "Off to be extraordinary again, huh."
But the bitterness doesn't go away, no matter how sweet the candies are.
PLUS ONE
With the Expeditionary Force back home in Mondstadt, the city feels more lively than ever. There's a new energy in the air, one that sweeps through the streets and open windows, carried by the breeze. Favonius Headquarters is full of life once more, with its Grand Master returned and troops intergrating with those who stayed behind. Having been back a bit longer than the others, Lohen had the privilege of watching how the city practically transformed.
It's great that everyone is back, sure. At least Acting Grand Master Jean isn't working alone anymore with Varka back. Maybe she can finally get a break (from the pressure she puts on herself or her allergy of not working, who knows). To most of Mondstadt's citizens, the return of their knights is a fantastic thing.
Lohen might agree with them—if that didn't mean there's even more drunk knights to deal with.
He doesn't make a habit of going to places like the Angel's Share or the Cat's Tail (or anywhere that specialized in alcohol). However, there are plenty of occasions where he's dragged out by the other knights. The only highlight of that is the testing he can do on whichever group of unfortunate fools brings him along. They just never learn. And then, there are the occasions where it's Varka himself that drags Lohen out.
Which is where he finds himself currently, sitting at a bar in Dornman Port next to Varka, a cold glass of apple cider in front of him. The man had decided to come pay a visit after Lohen's work was finished up and predictably pushed him right to the pub.
Sighing, Lohen watches Varka as he lifts his glass to his lips, eyes focused on the other. It's only the second time they've been out since returning home, having been kept busy with their individual assignments (though Lohen's were really self-assigned to keep himself in Dornman Port). Though Lohen is certain that Varka has already reacquainted himself with Mondstadt's pubs after being away for five years, the man still lets loose. His cheeks carry a rosey tint, a large grin dancing along his lips as he knocks back his glass.
They're out of uniform for once, dressed casually in their off-duty hours. In Lohen's case, he merely swapped his uniform for his adventuring gear, perfect for leisure and any spontaneous hunting he may decide to do. He's got to entertain himself somehow now that they've returned. As for Varka, it's odd to see him without his armor. After traveling with the man for so long, that's practically all Lohen ever saw him in. Yet now he sits in a simple black shirt and pants, retaining the fingerless gloves. It feels like he's underdressed without everything else.
"Ah! Sure is good to be back home, huh?" Varka sighs with fondness, cup meeting the table with a dull thunk as he sets it down. "I've missed the Mondstadt specialties, haha!"
Lohen rolls his eyes. "Speak for yourself," he grumbles, albeit the words lack any real bite. His voice comes out softer than he means for it too, but he doubts Varka is sober enough to notice. He's lost count of what number drink the other is on. He sighs, longingly, "I miss the danger of the road. Mondstadt is so boring."
"Be grateful it's peaceful," Varka chides lightly, "Means there's less worrying we have to do."
"Meaning there are other places to worry about?" Lohen hums with a sly smirk. "If you've got any dangerous missions~."
Taking another drink, Varka shakes his head with a little sigh. "What am I going to do with you," he wonders under his breath. "You still need to be careful, rascal. You've got more eyes after…"
"Yeah, yeah, I know." Lohen waves him off, smirk shifting into that of a frown at the reminder. It really is some kind of miracle from Barbatos that he still has his position given his actions. But not everyone is like Varka, so willing to trust him fully. Lohen would've been greatly displeased if the others did trust him again without reservations, if they threw caution to the wind. Not that he plans on doing anything like that again, but it's purely about principle. Varka is just a weird exception to this. "Still, I certainly won't say no to some kind of raid or ambush related mission."
Varka huffs, eyes sparkling with amusement at Lohen's never ending eagerness for a fight. "If anything comes up, you'll be the first I call in," he says, getting the bartender to refill his glass. He returns his attention to Lohen, "Speaking of peace, how's the adjustment been? Don't think we've really gotten a chance to talk about it. Have you been settling in okay?"
In the past, this is where Lohen might've closed up, shut himself within the safety of his walls and laughed it off with some kind of joke. He would've given some dismissive answer that wasn't really an answer. But Varka has somehow found a way to chip the wall away, so gently break the foundation Lohen has spent years laying down. The ice and shields he wrapped himself up in to defend from any more arrows digging into his skin, Varka replaced with bandages and warmth, carefully pulling the arrows out one by one. The final nail was the loss of Adorno, of his world once again flipping over as one of the most important people in his life became a victim to time.
The thought was so terrifying before, Lohen hadn't wanted to imagine it. Without the safety of Adorno, if his own abilities and self couldn't make him feel safe, then what could?
He might be starting to piece it together, and it might just start with the very man in front of him. Whereas before he might've recoiled at the thought of showing any weakness to Varka, if there's one thing the man has taught him, it's that maybe having someone watch his back isn't such a bad thing.
(Not to mention he owes it to him. Lohen finds that he wants to be trusted. Even if Varka already trusts him, even if his faith in him was never shaken, Lohen still has to earn that trust back. He doesn't deserve it yet. He wants to be reliable and strong, to prove that he is. And he's learning that he has to be willing to offer a piece of himself to do it. He has to believe that if he sets his heart in Varka's hands, the man won't crush it the first chance he gets.)
So, Lohen sighs. "Eh, bit if a rough start if you ask me. I almost had no idea what to do with myself," he offers an airy laugh. "At least work kept me busy for a bit. And well, things with Theodore. But none of that really made it 'easier.'"
Lohen focuses his gaze on the dark amber of his glass. The ice cubes in the cider clink together quietly as they shrink in the liquid enveloping them. Condensation runs down the length of the cup, dripping onto the table below in little beads of water. Varka doesn't say anything to fill the space Lohen's left open, merely listening and drinking.
And Lohen finds his words once more. "I don't know how the others do it. They've all picked up where they left off with their predictable routines." His forehead creases, eyebrows tight. His fingers tap on the wood of the bar. Restless. Fidgety. "As for me, everything is the way I left it, but it doesn't feel the same. It feels too normal, mundane, and if I let my guard down with it…" Lohen trails off before shaking his head. "Heh, I guess solitary confinement ended up being the most helpful. Gave me time to think. Uh, don't tell Jean I said that though."
"Secret's safe with me," Varka promises. "But you're not the first to say something like that," he muses, nodding along. "You've been out adventuring in unfamiliar lands for five years, of course you'll come back home highstrung. I'd be worried if you of all people didn't." The man breaks into warm chuckles. "Specifically in your case… you've been living with your survival instincts dictating your every day. Now's the time for you to slow down and start living in the moment without the constant danger."
"Got any tips then?" Lohen asks, suddenly feeling out of his depth. He thought quite a bit about this exact thing whilst in solitary confinement. But the words hit him differently when hearing them from Varka.
"Well…" Varka's face turns a shade darker, something Lohen knows isn't just from the copious amounts of alcohol in his system. "I might know a few." His expression turns shy.
And Lohen feels his heart stutter in his chest as he watches Varka's hand settle over his, a comforting weight. A quiet invitation rather than a display of power. Here, dressed without the weight of their uniforms on their backs, they are simply Lohen and Varka. There is no Vice Captain or Grand Master in sight. He stares at their hands, the way Varka's large palm covers him but doesn't try to control him. And he hums, offering a teasing stare.
"And just what are you implying, hm?" Lohen tilts his head.
Clearing his throat some, Varka meets his eyes, serious yet bashful all at once. "That you don't have to do all of this alone, not if you don't want to," he says, giving Lohen's hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze. "We don't have to discuss anything now, so don't feel like you have to give me an answer. But I know I haven't exactly been… subtle, heh." Varka chuckles as he pulls his hand back, a little smile tugging at his lips. "Kaeya's been teasing me for weeks about favoritism among the knights. Not like I can really deny it anymore." He shakes his head fondly, lifting his glass for a sip. "Regardless, I figured now would be a good time to put it out there. And know that I'm here no matter what you decide."
A minute, but sharp inhale pulls itself through Lohen's parted lips. He looks at Varka with something akin to wonder, surprise filling in the space of his eyes that awe doesn't reach. For a moment, he's utterly dumbfounded, a little speechless really. The signs have all been there for a while, years even. The way they'd linger in each others spaces, how Varka always seem to look after him, how Lohen naturally drew toward him. Over the years, Varka's warmth and presence was a constant, a familiarity that soothed something in his chest. And the pieces begin to fit together, the answer appearing before him as the meaning of Varka's words land. Oh. Oh.
Its been there the whole time, but Lohen never acknowledged it. Never put a name to it. His focus had been elsewhere, subconsciously pushing such feelings aside. Varka saw that and respected it. But it's safe to think about now, safe to consider, within the walls of Mondstadt.
"Hah… of course you'd go and pull something like this right now," Lohen chuckles, flustered, as his face drops against his palm. There's suddenly way too many thoughts in his head, making his heart beat uncomfortably fast. It's the sort of wild rhythm that'd play while he's in a fight.
Varka laughs, bright and warm and stupidly endearing. It makes his heart twist all over again, beating with something new. "It seemed like my best opportunity!"
Lohen's gonna poison him for that one.
— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —
They decide to call it a night when Varka finishes his nth glass. Or more specifically, Lohen decides it's Varka's last cup of alcohol for the night and it's time they leave.
He slings Varka's arm over his shoulder, grunting as he feels the man's full weight against him. It isn't the easiest thanks to his shorter stature, or how damn muscular Varka is, but Lohen can manage it. He helps him out the door and onto the street, the fresh air comforting after being surrounded by the smell of booze all night. Breathing in, Lohen pinches Varka's arm. "Hey, you conscious still?"
"Hah, 'course I am, what kinda questions' hat?" Varka chuckles, words slurring slightly. "'ll get outta your hair 'nd head home." He takes maybe one step away from Lohen before he tilts sideways and Lohen is quick to pull him back toward him, keeping him up.
"Yeah, that's not happening," Lohen mutters, already resigning himself to watching over a drunk Grand Master. "I'm not really interested in getting an earful from Jean if you're found passed out on the side of the road in the morning. Although I'd definitely pay to see it," he chuckles, already imagining what rumors would spread around. It'd be a long while before Varka ever lived that one down.
Varka laughs too, the sound rumbling in his chest close to Lohen. Leaning against him, he can feel the vibrations of his laughter in his chest, so painfully Varka. It's a nice sound. "She'd have an ear'ul for me too."
There's no denying that one.
Standing still, Lohen thinks over what to do next. As strong as he is, it'd be impossible to haul Varka's ass all the way back to Mondstadt City while he's like this. Although, if he wants to sober the man up, he could drag him down to the shore and push him into the water. That'd do the trick. Lohen shakes his head after the thought, people might assume he's trying to kill the man, which isn't the greatest look for him right now. Lohen frowns, that leaves him with finding someplace for Varka to stay.
He could just drop Varka off at an inn and call it a night there. Or even the Knights' station here in the town. But he dismisses both ideas alarmingly quickly, not liking the sound of them. It wouldn't feel right to leave Varka like that. He's more than capable of taking care of himself, the man isn't helpless. No, it simply leaves a bad taste in Lohen's mouth after everything Varka has done for him, after every bit of care he's ever extended toward him. And after tonight's revelation, maybe Lohen doesn't quite want to part ways yet.
He wants to return that kindness. The care.
It's an easy choice from there. Lohen heads in the direction of where he's been staying while stationed in Dornman Port. The place certainly isn't luxurious—he doesn't care much for stuff like that—but it'll do just fine. Thankfully, Varka is relatively quiet on their way back, dancing between being awake and drifting off. He mumbles something here and there, words indecipherable. Lohen writes them off as nothing more than the ramblings of a sleepy drunk man.
When they reach his little home, Lohen shifts so that Varka can lean against the wall. "Stay there for a second," he demands, pulling the keys from his pocket.
"Huh?" Varka blinks awake, turning his head to look around. "Where ar'we?" His face pinches in confusion.
Lohen's shoulders tense for a moment, hands stilling. "My uh, my place," he admits, tone a bit awkward. He quickly works the key in and pushes the door open before they can linger on it for too long. "Come on, in we go old man." Lohen grabs hold of him once more, pushing him in through the doorway. Varka's confusion hasn't gone away, though he goes easily and Lohen practically shoves him inside. He guides Varka to the couch, closing the door behind him. "Make yourself comfortable."
Thankfully he sits down without complaint or protest, taking a look around. Lohen leaves him there and walks over to the kitchen, grabbing a glass. "Didn't know y'had such a nice place here, Lo," Varka hums, the nickname unfamiliar on his lips.
Lohen blinks and pauses at the name, finding that he doesn't hate it. It's unusual to hear. Theodore's used a nickname or two for him, but that was when they were children (not that he even saw the other much until the knight exams). His parents hardly ever used any for him, and they felt more suffocating than anything else. He decides he likes it from Varka, although he'll be keeping that one to himself.
Promptly ignoring any embarrassment the name and his own thoughts pull from him, Lohen fills a glass with water and brings it back to him. "It's nothing special, just a house." He practically forces the glass into Varka's face, jostling the liquid inside. "Drink," he commands, tone leaving little room for argument.
"Heh, aye aye sir." Chuckling, Varka takes the water and drinks as instructed. He downs the glass quickly, which has Lohen grabbing it and pouring him some more. And because he's so nice, he even gets him some painkillers. He drops them in Varka's palm, causing the other to squint at them with suspicion. "Didn't gimme anythin' weird, did ya?"
"Not this time," Lohen says, sighing as if disappointed. "I've chosen to be chivalrous tonight, you're welcome. Don't expect me to be so nice next time." He smirks, earning himself a warm laugh. He stands in front of the other after, crossing his arms over his chest. "Although, you're sleeping in your own clothes. Nothing I have will fit someone freakishly tall and muscular like you." Lohen wrinkles his nose. "So don't go throwing up anywhere."
"Easy enough," Varka returns, starting to sound less slurred and well, drunk. His face is still rather flushed from the alcohol, and he looks quite sleepy. It's good enough for Lohen. "Got anything like a blanket or something?"
"Ah, hold on." Turning on his heels, Lohen heads for his room where he keeps a spare blanket and pillow. He can at least provide these. Varka perks up as he returns, tossing both items right at him. The blanket hits first, falling over his head and covering him. The pillow hits his face and bounces right into his lap. "There, now you won't freeze." Lohen doesn't try to hide his amused smile.
"How kind of you!" The blanket is pulled off of his head, landing in his lap and covering the pillow. It leaves Varka's hair all messy and sticking up randomly, making quite the comical sight. It reminds Lohen of a wolf's wild fur, and he supposes it's quite fitting. Varka's staring at him with shining blue eyes, a wide grin sitting on his lips. He looks unfairly handsome.
Not quite thinking, Lohen walks toward him, reaching his hand out. "Hold still." Varka makes a confused noise as Lohen sets his hand in the ruffled strands, moving through them. His hair is soft, surprisingly so. Varka never struck him as the 'soft and silky' type. Drawn in, his fingers comb the blond pieces back, brushing through his hair to fix it after its tussle with the blanket. He brushes the tufts down with gentle movements, tender as he switches to using both hands.
Varka's hair is short but stubborn to style with all of its cowlicks. Lohen leans into the motions easily, almost rhythmic as he methodically moves. He misses the way Varka's breath goes still at his touch, too focused on how soothing and well, nice, it feels to run his fingers through the other's hair. The action feels almost serene and intimate on a level Lohen's never experienced before. He's just short of scratching Varka's scalp, rearranging strands until they're close to his usual look.
"…hey, Lohen?" Varka prompts, his voice oddly quiet. As if he's afraid to shatter whatever's happening right now.
"Hm?" Lohen's hands continue their work as he glances down at the other.
"Not that I'm complaining but why'd you bring me here of all places?"
Would you believe me if I said it's because I care about you too? The words get stuck in his throat, clogged by too many thoughts, too many feelings. Ones that he isn't ready to say outloud yet. "Just returning the favor."
He doesn't have to see Varka's bright grin to know he got the message lying underneath.