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It's quiet. Too quiet.
Voices and footsteps had filled the halls, echoing in his ears. He's listened enough times to pinpoint who each step belonged to. Then came the voices, talks about the upcoming award ceremony, the now uncovered lab of The Doctor, plans going forward. The familiarity of the noise filled him with cold comfort, despite the ache in his palm (barely felt now), the churning in his stomach. And then, it all stopped. The voices moved away, the footsteps slowly disappeared.
He sits by himself, in the quiet. No longer is he distracted by the happenings of his fellow knights, forced to sit in silence.
Loosely, he flexes his hand. Someone had looked him over after they returned, noting his fatigue and the tenderness of his palm. The wound he inflicted was healed, though he can kiss his glove goodbye. He has others.
He stares down at his hand—his oh so painfully mortal hand—and the breath he releases is shaky.
The door swings open, heavy footsteps meeting the floor underneath. He doesn't look up to see who it is, he doesn't have to. A weight drops beside him, a silent but comforting presence all the same. Neither say anything, not immediately. They simply find something to stare at, their breaths the only sounds they make. There was a time where he hated how well it seemed the Grand Master could read him, believing it to be an opening for control to be taken from him. But now? He finds himself grateful for it, even extends some trust with it.
"Well," he finally breaks the silence, figuring he might as well do it first. Get in his final word before the hammer swings down. "Guess that's that then, huh?" His hand falls to his lap, limp. Varka makes no move to answer. "The great heroes defeated the big bad villain and uncovered the remains of his influence while the sinner cleaned up his mistakes." A dry laugh fills the air, his heart isn't really in it. "At least I had one last hurrah. Certainly wasn't the way I imagined it, but eh, beggars can't be choosers." He shrugs.
It's only then that the Grand Master's eyes land on him. "Lohen, you—"
"D'ahhh, you don't have to sugarcoat it, Varka," he scoffs, curling his fingers in. "I'd be lucky if I remained a Vice Captain after this, let alone a knight." It was a possibility he made peace with shortly after Theodore's experiments on him began. Second guessing is something Lohen tried to avoid doing, it has no place on the battlefield when lives are on the line. But there had been times where his restless mind would wander, considering 'what-ifs' and questions. Those nights, he wondered what would happen if Varka and the knights found out. He wagered he'd probably be stripped of his rank, he and Theodore cast out.
Afterall, it wasn't just something extremely dangerous they were messing with. It was poking at a wound the knights had never quite healed from, one that had never been able to fully close without all of the stitching. There's no way they'd get off lightly for that.
Now he's facing that reality. It… hurts more than he thought it would. Lohen hadn't expected to enjoy being with the knights so much—not when all of this started purely because being an adventurer grew boring. He hadn't stopped to think about how deep he let his roots grow, how the thrilling rush of battle wasn't the only thing at the forefront of his mind anymore. Perhaps he could even go as far as to say the knights are like his home.
How ironic, to realize such a thing as it's about to slip from his grasp.
'Linger at the gambling table, and we're bound to lose even more,' he had said to Theodore back there. Maybe he should've taken those words a bit more to heart.
Lohen sighs then, watching his fingers press down on his palm, nails stinging when he squeezes too hard. He lets it continue.
An arm slings around his shoulders, gently pulling him in. Lohen stiffens as Varka's arm settles over him, caught off guard by the action. "Consider yourself lucky then," Varka hums, his tone casual and at ease. "Because you're still our Vice Captain."
"…huh?" Lohen blinks up at him, meeting Varka's gaze. His sky blue eyes twinkle with light amusement, a lazy smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Are you stupid?" The words fall out of his mouth before he can catch them. "You realize I went behind your back and betrayed you, right? There's no way anyone intelligent would keep someone like that in their ranks."
Varka gives a hearty laugh. "Well, guess I'm a little stupid for continuing to trust you then," he says, not even hesitating slightly. At Lohen's furrowed brows, his laugh softens and tampers off, leaving something open and vulnerable behind. "Look… the situation wasn't great. You both are definitely in trouble here, but I know you well enough to understand your reasons." He smooths a hand down the side of Lohen's arm as he squeezes him close, quietly relaxing him some. It was a trick he learned on the expedition during the nights Lohen's mind couldn't stop running. "You agreed to talk to me as soon as I asked you about it. You pulled things back before it got too far and fought with us. I see no reason not to keep you in our ranks."
He can't help staring at the Grand Master in disbelief. Maybe he should've expected this outcome, considering who it is. Still… Lohen's head tilts to the side, leaning farther into Varka's space, until he slots comfortably against him. He laughs again, just the tiniest bit lighter, grateful he isn't losing two homes today. "It's amazing you've survived this long."
Once more, Varka barks out a laugh. "You and me both!" he says in jest, earning him the slightest smile from the other. "In truth, your punishment was on the lighter end—just some time in solitary confinement and no promotion to Captain yet. Can't say the same for the other kid though…"
Lohen frowns at the mention of Theodore; whatever his punishment was, the fool's certainly gotten what he deserves. "Guess I have you to thank for the good word?" he questions, though they both already know the answer. "I don't know whether to be relieved or disappointed Acting Grand Master Jean didn't come to deliver the verdict herself."
"She's uh… bit wrapped up with the ceremony preparations. And I told her I'd do it, don't want to give her even more to do."
"Mm. What about the position of Fifth Company's captain?"
"Eh, it'll remain vacant for now. Give it a year, and I'm sure that title will officially be yours."
"Won't that cause a problem or two?"
"Mondstadt did just fine for a long time with only an Acting Grand Master, right?" Lohen angles his head up to squint at the man, unsurprised by such a casual response. "It'll be fine. The Fifth Company's still got their reliable Vice Captain, don't they?" Varka offers him a relaxed smile, not a hint of concern or doubt on his face.
"Whatever you say." Lohen's gaze darts away from that smile, unsure what to do in the face of so much unrestrained something. It makes him want to run off and fight a hoard of monsters, or pour poison into Varka's drink again.
He feels Varka's hand still against his arm, slowing to a stop until he lets it rest curled around his waist. There aren't many places Lohen feels safe without some kind of weapon on or near him, but Varka's embrace might just be one of the only. He exhales silently, looking down at his hand once more. His nails have left crescent marks on his skin.
They fall into silence once more, merely resting together, leaning against each other. The past few days have felt like a whirlwind, and Lohen still doesn't feel like he's had a moment to catch his breath. Too many thoughts to unravel, too many mixed emotions to process. He doesn't even know where to begin. Or how.
Thankfully, it seems Varka starts it for him, like he could sense the turmoil churning in Lohen's stomach. "Head and hand still hurt?"
"No more than before." Lohen shrugs loosely. "Just a little bit of pain, never killed anybody."
"And now I find myself wondering how you've survived this long," Varka mumbles to himself. Lohen decides to pretend like he didn't hear it. The Grand Master clears his throat moments after, "Uh, anyways. How're you doing otherwise? I'm sorry about Adorno's… he was a good man, and an even greater knight."
"You mean his death?" Lohen asks, blunt and to the point. It makes Varka wince slightly. "You don't have to walk circles around it. I'm… I've been better."
It hasn't really set in yet, the realization that the old man is gone, soon to be buried along with his title. Might not hit him until he's standing in front of the man's grave, looking at the expressions of gratitude left for the Benevolent Knight. There's a deep ache in his chest though, one that bruised up the moment he saw Ardono down in that damned facility. Grief wormed its way into his bones then, following him through his fight with those monsters, to denying Ursa the Drake's power, and to now. It's a heavy weight that's started to tug on his shoulders, pieces of stone digging into him more and more as it grows.
With Varka's attention on him, he feels the instinctive urge to close up, to keep him out. He's never been particularly good at vulnerability, or letting someone else in. That's basically inviting a knife to the back. It was a driving factor in his goal for power. Vulnerability shows weakness, it leaves easy openings for the enemy, and that isn't something he can afford. Being weak means being overpowered, controlled. For so long, Lohen's spent shouldering his own burdens, using battle to chase away his fears, to hide his uncertainties.
Vulnerability was dangerous, he thought. Especially under the eyes of someone so powerful like Varka. Showing Varka any of this was something he took great care to avoid, not knowing what the outcome would be, what kind of leeway he'd be holding up on a silver platter.
But Lohen owes it to him, at the very least, some bit of honesty. For all of the trust that Varka has given him, shouldn't he return that? And maybe… maybe he's a bit tired.
Quietly, Lohen sighs. "I should've stopped that idiot when I first caught onto what he was doing. It was selfish, but it was helping Adorno, and it was the perfect way to gaining more power." His palm starts to sting. "Who knows, I probably kept Adorno alive a bit longer just by offering for Theodore to experiment on me instead," he snorts, missing the way Varka's grip tightens just slightly. "He was weak. He was so blinded by his obsession that he forgot about everything else. Maybe I was too. Until the very person we wanted to help got hurt by it."
Frustration leaks into his voice, bleeding in slowly. He had told Theodore he was prepared for failure, and he was. He just realized they were barreling right toward it before Theodore even had a chance to. In the end, they nearly walked the same path as that traitor and him, hadn't they? The very thing they had been saved from, the two of them willingly walked right back into it, only the knife was held in their hands this time. And for what, strength that wouldn't have been his to call his own? The removal of this shadow of fear that constantly follows him? Protecting the man that he owes so much to?
Wouldn't that just be spitting in the face of everything Adorno did for them?
They were both idiots. A pair of them.
"I used to think that if I had enough power, if I could rise above 'ordinary,' I wouldn't have to be afraid all the time," he says. "I was arrogant, really. It didn't matter how I got the power I wanted, long as I had it and no one could control me." Lohen's brows draw together, the corners of his lips tugging down low. "It was all I wanted, I needed it." He follows that with an irritated grumble, "Some help that was when the Rächer of Solnari turned me into his personal punching bag and made me to realize how mortal and weak I really am, even now."
A warm weight falls over his hand, and the stinging in his palm lessens as careful fingers pries his clenched fist open slowly. "That guy is in a category of his own. But, you held your ground well for as long as you could." Varka shakes his head before adding, "We couldn't even beat him on our own, him or Dottore. It took a lot, but that's the real 'power' of us mortals, huh? Coming together and combining our strength in the face of a shared enemy…" he trails before shaking his head. "But enough about that, uh, what changed your mind? About power?" The tone of his voice fills with curiosity yet something soft as well, fragile.
Lohen pauses to consider it, events swirling in his mind. "A few things, I guess," he says. "Don't—don't get me wrong, I still want to become strong. But… I don't know, maybe it's not just for myself anymore, but for others. Maybe the key to strength isn't becoming 'extraordinary' or losing humanity." He shrugs his shoulders, leaning away from Varka slightly, trying not to look awkward as he avoids the other's gaze. "Maybe it just… starts with trusting others to watch my back. Or something." Lohen's voice goes softer on the end, betraying a gentleness despite his awkward expression. The lines in his face smooth out, eyes looking lighter and thoughtful as his jaw relaxes some.
If there's one thing that today has shown him, it's that his perspective was off, skewed. And that needs some re-evaluation.
"Sounds like a fine Captain in the making to me." Varka grins, bright and pleased. "You hide it well, but I see what you do to protect the other knights. The intense training, cleaning up monster camps, bearing the brunt of injuries in a fight… the Fifth Company's reliable Vice Captain, our Arrow, hah," he chuckles, the sound fonder and lighter than his usual laugh. It's saved just for Lohen. "You've had people to rely on this whole time, you're one of us. One of mine. I'm glad you see that now." The emphasis doesn't go unnoticed.
Then, his smile quiets, becoming smaller and private as he lifts Lohen's hand. The movement draws the other's attention, letting him see where his nails were starting to break skin. "I'm relieved you're alright," Varka murmurs, pressing a light kiss to the middle of his palm. "Had me worried back there, coming back to you and seeing you unconscious like that."
Worry doesn't even begin to describe the melting pot of emotions he had been feeling, from the moment he had learned of Lohen's involvement in this. As Grand Master, there isn't room for such emotions, not with the priority of Mondstadt's safety hanging over him. Any fear needed to be buried deep. It nearly crawled up his throat when they found Lohen on the ground, hand bleeding. He'd never seen his knight so openly vulnerable. Between that and Lohen's fight with Rerir… Varka hopes he doesn't have to see him like that again for a long time.
Lohen's ears burn at the blatant warmth and concern in his voice as he turns his head away in an attempt to hide it. "Well, I'm fine," he quickly returns, tugging his hand free from Varka's grip. "You worry too much." Though, he won't deny how nice it feels to be cared for.
"With how often you come back covered in injuries?" Varka lifts a skeptical brow. "I think I'm well within my right to." He listens to Lohen's amused chuckle, the sound relieving to hear. "Don't ever do something like that again, you hear? If you feel powerless… come to me. That's an order." He pulls him closer again, resting his chin on mint green hair.
Lohen snorts, lifting his gaze to look at him now. "Oh?~ Is that an open invitation to a duel, old man? Maybe an ambush?"
Varka cracks a wolfish grin, "If it gets me out of paperwork sure, whatever you want."
The true meaning isn’t missed, the quiet let me be there hidden just under the surface of Varka’s words for Lohen to see. He doesn’t say anything about it, he doesn’t have to. "Careful," he laughs, settling into the familiar rhythm of their banter, "otherwise the knights will accuse you of playing favorites." Okay.
"Wouldn't be the first time." Varka pauses there, breathing in as he feels the knight's weight against him, the feeling of warmth tucked into his side. A solid reminder that Lohen is safe, here with him, and his trust was not misplaced. History didn't repeat itself, and this time, he was here to do something—to pull his loved one back from the edge before it was too late. Old ghosts were put to rest, skeletal closets were emptied, and Lohen remains right where he is.
Eyes drifting to the window, Varka stares. He only meant to check in on Lohen and deliver news of his punishment, as there are other things that need taking care of. Even if he doesn't want to get up… the Grand Master sighs then, "Alright, I guess that's my cue to leave you to rest for a bit. I'm sure you're tired." He moves to stand, but a hand darts out and stops him, grabbing hold of his sleeve. Varka freezes in place, "Lohen?"
In turn, the other says nothing, not offering any elaboration. Lohen's head remains turned away from him, the tips of his ears a brighter shade of red with his silent request. He doesn't vocalize it, simply keeps a hold on Varka, until the pieces click together.
"Of course," Varka chuckles, getting the message. As he stands, he gently pries Lohen's hand off to move easier. He slides his jacket and shoes off, setting them aside as Lohen lays down and gets comfortable. It doesn't take long for Varka to join him, wrapping an arm around him. There'll likely be more to address tomorrow, reports to fill out, the award ceremony to finish preparing for, but for now? Lohen gives into the exhaustion and lets his eyes drop shut, grateful that this is something he didn't have to lose.