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The streets are almost silent compared to the hustle and bustle of just a few hours ago. The sky is dark, though a hint of blue lingers at the horizon, hinting at the arrival of spring. Days are getting longer, but it doesn’t make much of a difference to Theodore. Another inconvenience: having to reset his clock. He wonders if his adoptive parents thought that about him too, after he was rescued.
Except the clock ran out of power months ago, and he never bothered buying a new calendar. He probably should’ve cleaned his room; a lot of people might end up walking through it after tonight, but he just can’t bring himself to care, hasn’t been able to for a while now, and believe him, he tried.
Warm orange light from a tavern window brushed across his ginger hair. Laughter and drunken hollering muffled behind the brick. He ducks beneath a window low enough for the patrons inside to get a good look at him, the fewer witnesses, the better.
A breeze whisks by, making him shiver, clearing his thoughts. He savors the moment and gives Dornmann port a glance back, halfway through the stairs to the more deserted castle part of the town.
His hand slips into his pocket and finds the spare key.
A minute later, he's scaling the highest tower. The wind is unnaturally loud and cold. It makes sense, he's high up, and it's late, but unease still crawls beneath his skin. His shins scream and stiffen as he reaches the last step, he’s gotten pretty out of shape.
Lohen can hear him coming from a mile away before he sees him. A familiar huffing and panting redhead, leather boots pushing off crumbling concrete and brick, loose small crumbs of rock falling down and echoing as they crash with the floor below.
His eyes widen while staring at the entrance to the roof, eventually, he settles down with a sigh. He must be getting sloppy if Theodore was able to track him.
Theodore finally emerges onto the roof, freezing at the sight of Lohen of all people.
Lohen stares ahead, back turned, but they both know the other is there.
Play it cool. Bluff. Anything.
“L-Lohen?! Why-”
“Enjoying the view.”
Theodore falters, hands still on knees, trying to catch his startled breath.
“Isn’t it a bit too cold for that?”
“Says you, I have a cryo vision.”
Lohen still doesn’t turn around, responding in the same passive tone he used way back then.
Something under Theodore's skin jitters. A sense of wrongness begins to surface, only to be drowned out by irritation.
Plans ruined. Lohen the Great decided to enjoy the view at midnight from this specific tower in Dornmann that Theodore wanted to jump off of.
Whatever. He’ll try again some other time.
Theodore grits his teeth and starts heading back down.
“Why did you stalk me?”
Theodore almost trips. “E-Excuse me?”
“Why are you here?”
The wind rustles a couple of flags, their masts rattling with them. The silence is so potent that you can still hear murmurs from bars in the port’s main district. Theodore’s fingers twitch at his sides, scrambling for a response. He really should’ve thought of something like this happening.
“I’m drunk.”
“What kind of lie is that?” Lohen’s shoulders sag as he huffs.
Incredulous, Theodore sputters. “Yeah? What better reason would you come up with huh?”
“I wanted to kill myself.”
Lohen waits for the usual vexed reply at his own morbidity. When it doesn’t come, he finally turns around with vague interest, half-lidded, the baby blue part of his iris nearly swallowed by the shadows beneath his eyes.
Theodore is on the opposite side of the tower, also leaning on the ruin’s brick parapet, looking out at the bright, warm glow of celebration below. His head is propped up by his elbow while one arm carelessly dangles over the dark pit. Lohen’s arms are crossed over his chest, as if in a hug.
Something primal and eldritch in Lohen stirs at the sight of a back turned to him, he tries to bury it deep.
Theodore doesn’t ask if he's joking.
Doesn’t tell him in that apprehensive tone of his to cut it out.
His arm is still hanging over the void.
Shelving the concern, he turns around to keep looking at the blurry warm orange on the horizon, Mondstadt, and even further in the fog, Nod Krai.
He has to fight a smile, the vibration of exasperation catching in his chest.
What are the chances?
“What does a normal handsome guy like you want to off himself over?” He pokes the nest.
"Normal is a trait to mention for sure, is that how unremarkable I am?" Theodore snorts.
“I consider it a huge compliment.”
“Riiiight,” Theodore drawls. “How am I normal?”
"You have friends."
"You mean roommates in the same knight barrack?"
The laugh that escapes Theodore sounds brittle enough to shatter.
Lohen glances sideways, though not enough to move his head, nor see Theodore.
Theodore is counting the bricks in the parapet.
He hears one thumb tap. Again. Again. Again.
"It’s enough to shatter your ribs and rupture your spleen in an instant."
The tapping freezes. "What?"
"The distance."
A pause and a soft oh were muttered, stolen by the wind and whisked away. Theodore thinks he can feel his heart in his stomach.
Far away over Mondstadt, a couple of late fireworks flicker and light up the sky. They both flinch.
Below, in a tavern, someone starts singing, but it’s too far away and muffled to hear the words. The crowd promptly joins in. A wave of laughter rises all the way to the tower.
Theodore swallows and leans farther over the edge.
“Never got the excitement over Windblume...”
I don’t feel liberated.
"You ever feel like everyone's attending a party they forgot to invite you to?" He adds after a moment.
"Didn’t take you for a poet."
Theodore rolls his eyes. In a split second, Lohen speaks again.
"I wasn't forgotten."
Of course he wasn’t—
Theodore looks over.
The young vice captain’s position hasn’t changed.
"I left before they could ask."
Theodore lets out a breath. For a second, he thinks this entire interaction is one of those apparitions he read about in books that appear to the brain shortly before death, maybe he has already jumped.
“So what stopped you?” he manages to croak out.
"You."
"Sorry." Theodore winces.
"Don't flatter yourself." Lohen kicks a loose pebble from the parapet.
They both listen until they can't hear it anymore.
"I just didn't want an audience."
“Me neither.” Theodore gripes.
Lohen merely hums.
"We're just..." Theodore gestures vaguely in the air. "Going to stand here and pretend this isn't weird?"
"It seems to be working." Lohen shrugs.
Theodore lets out an unkind laugh.
"Wind, you're annoying."
"Not news."
"No, seriously."
Lohen raises an eyebrow.
Theodore pushes off the parapet and turns around to face Lohen’s back. Below, the city keeps celebrating. A group cheers.
"You have everything."
A bottle shatters, followed by more bellowing.
The words left before he could stop them.
He watches the back of Lohen’s head lift slightly.
Theodore keeps going.
"You've got a Vision. A noble rank. People respect you; enemies fear you. Varka would probably throw himself into a ditch if you asked."
“You don’t get it.” Lohen’s voice pitches down an octave, to the same thoughtless tone, and the words come out harsher than he intends.
Theodore scoffs. “Of course I don’t! I’m the failed experiment, failed knight!” He greedily sucks in air, throat growing tighter and tighter. “The failed apprentice!”
He’s always hated himself for the sting in his eyes whenever he got slightly emotional, not just sad. Angry, happy, anything was enough for the waterworks. It makes him even more pathetic, less of a man.
The wind whistles through the battlements. Theodore folds his arms as his stomach twists.
He hates how composed Lohen sounds.
Hates how he's refusing to argue properly. How much superior and stronger he is.
Most of all he hates that tiny part of him that's listening, not just doing some crazy cool parkour to get away or jumping right then and there, outright.
"People would miss you." The redhead spits out. “The ranged company alone depends on you.”
“I don’t know if you’re really that stupid to not realize.” Theodore laughs again, sharper this time, armed with thorns, lashing out.
The answer comes immediately.
"No."
Theodore blinks.
Lohen's gaze remains fixed on the distant lights.
"No," he repeats. "They would miss the things I do for them."
Theodore opens his mouth and closes.
Lohen's voice remains level.
"If I vanished tomorrow, deep down they’d be grateful."
Theodore wants to argue but Lohen sounds as if he’s discussing the weather. As though he’s already done the math, Theodore’s irritations fades slightly.
But only for a second.
Then he digs his heels in.
"Still sounds better than being forgotten before you're even gone."
It feels like he shouted that out with sobs, but in reality, the words sound out like a mice's squeak.
Lohen finally turns, really turns for the first time in this conversation.
And Theodore instantly wishes he hadn't said it.
He shivers at the temperature drop.
The wind fills the silence with its solemn song. Theodore’s misty eyes catch and reflect the light of street lanterns. Lohen's expression isn't angry, it’s resigned. Theodore can't bring himself to look away.
That's somehow worse.
"You think you've been forgotten?"
Theodore sniffles, a miserable sound in reply.
"You think nobody notices? You stopped attending field tests, stopped visiting headquarters."
The question catches him off guard.
Lohen shrugs.
"You became predictable, Theodore."
He swallows, desperately willing the tightness in his trachea to go away.
Lohen's gaze drifts downward to the port. Toward taverns filled with undoubtedly burnt-out knights laughing up a storm. Toward everything, Theodore has convinced himself doesn't care.
"I didn't know you were keeping score." He settles, wetly.
"You make it sound difficult."
Theodore scoffs. There it is again. That infuriating composure and certainty, still lacking the smirk to pair.
"You don't know what you're talking about."
"No?"
"No." Theodore shakes his head.
Lohen nods once, simply accepting the answer.
Not arguing.
Not defending himself.
Theodore hates how lifeless he looks; it reminds him too much of…that time.
Spurred on by the admission, he continues.
Lohen goes still. The question hangs there, wind tugs at the loose strands of dark mint hair framing his face. His eyes sunken, the red line in them standing out stark, as if a pool of blood spilling. The wind whistles, as in bafflement itself.
"I don't."
The answer comes too fast and Theodore barks out a broken laugh.
"Not so good at lying yourself when you drop the mask."
Lohen's eyes narrow slightly. As if he's considering whether the lie is worth maintaining.
Eventually, he exhales as a thin plume of frost disperses into the night from his lips.
"Yeah," he says reverently. "I suppose."
Theodore's mouth snaps shut because that was too easy. Lohen folds his arms tighter, he almost looks cold.
“We’re not that different, I guess.” He adds, testing the waters. "You assume too much."
"About what?"
Another pause, this time long enough for Theodore to wipe away his tears and shift his weight.
"About what people see."
Theodore frowns. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Lohen turns away again, Theodore’s tongue catches in his throat, and he almost reaches out to grab him to make him face him. Instead, he walks up to Lohen and settles beside him, following the vision holder’s gaze into the dark sea.
"People like heroes."
Theodore can’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. "Congratulations."
"They like stories of victories."
"What does that have to do with me assuming too much?"
Lohen’s fingers curl once against his sleeves. A tiny movement, almost imperceptible.
Gone almost as soon as Theodore notices it.
"They don't like to hear about the price or what comes after."
For the first time that night, Theodore finds himself wondering if they're standing on this rooftop for entirely different reasons.
“Do you want to die Lohen?”
Lohen gives a defeated shrug.
“Not really, but it’s best I do.”
Theodore leans further to get a good look at his face, but Lohen shies away. He aborts the effort.
“Why?”
“The serum,” Lohen picks at his arm crook with his other hand, “It’s not going away anytime soon. The e-effects I mean.”
Some of that composure finally thaws away, Lohen steels himself again. “And I just don’t want to live like this. Risking that one day I won’t be able to stop myself from going off the deep end. Doing something terrifying.”
…
“It doesn’t help I look like him.”
The wind suddenly feels much sharper.
Theodore immediately looks away.
A mistake. He realizes it when he catches Lohen's shoulders locking in his peripheral vision.
The way his fingers dig into his sleeves, right where Theodore knows he keeps his trusty dagger.
Theodore feels vaguely sick.
"You're not talking about…"
The title dies before he can finish it.
Lohen's jaw tightens in answer.
For a moment, Theodore forgets about the tower. The drop. Why he came here in the first place. How to breathe.
His pulse hammers against his chest.
Theodore stares ahead emptily as Lohen ever so slightly inches closer, hands hovering; they only know how to hurt.
Theodore stares out at the sea, the dark water stretching endlessly beyond the port, spilling toward Fontaine.
He utters a small and pathetic “I…see.”
Lohen wilts further and laughs, his usual hollow one, the one he reserves for the scum of Tevyat. This time, it's directed entirely at himself.
"Yeah." He ducks his head, shadow swallows most of his face, leaving only the red in his eyes visible beneath the darkness. Tiny pinpricks of crimson.
Theodore chooses his next words carefully.
“I’ve never seen you like that, truthfully.”
“You might not have, but with time you will.” Lohen’s smile twists. “Not like we interact that much anymore in the first place.”
Or even before that is unspoken.
For a long time, Lohen says nothing. Then he lifts one shoulder in a miserable imitation of a shrug.
"Would you take that chance? Play roulette with other people’s lives?”
His gaze drifts back toward the city. The lights and people. Warmth inviting itself over his face.
"I may be powerless." His voice falters. "Weak."
He lets out a slow breath.
"But I'm still mortal."
The smile that follows is small. Almost boyish. Painfully out of place.
"I can at least make use of that.”
"I can be powerful this one time," Lohen says. "I can decide my own fate."
And he sounds so genuinely excited when he says this, like the kid he never got to be. Theodore’s chest tightens further because none of this sounds dramatic. None of it sounds irrational or deluded. It sounds horrifyingly practical and cynical, like stopping an infection from spreading on a wound.
Theodore wrestles with his thoughts, begging for a magical sentence to dispute everything Lohen just said.
“Promise me you won’t do it, though.”
Theodore's eyes snap toward him. Lohen is looking at him properly now. Theodore feels as if, for the first time in years, he truly sees him. So many things he’d miss.
The vice captain suddenly appears elden beyond his years. Meanwhile, the taverns below have quietened.
He smiles a beautiful thing, and it makes his eyes crinkle. It’s a new smile, it looks alien on his face, yet right at the same time.
“You deserve to live the most out of the two of us, Theo.”