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The Flagship never truly sleeps, Illuga notes to himself.
Even at this hour, the distant hum and chatter of patrons carry through the air, a constant reminder of how alive Nod-Krai is at any given moment- even during times that feel better suited to death. The corridors are quieter now, emptied of hurried footsteps and bounty hunters, leaving only the soft glow of rickety lamps and the spirited energy of people drunk on alcohol.
Beyond the windows, Illuga can see the city built from scrap metal stretching out before him, held together by hopes and prayers for an "Elysium."
If he looked farther, he knew he would catch the glimmer of moonlight striking the sea.
He tells himself he's only passing through, even though an untouched drink sits at his table beside a stack of reports he's supposed to be working on. Instead, his gaze lingers beyond the city of scraps.
That's when he catches sight of a familiar figure.
The man looks starkly out of place, dressed in outlandish clothing and carrying enough weaponry to make most people nervous. As if sensing Illuga's attention, he glances over.
Their eyes meet.
The figure's face immediately splits into a vicious grin.
Wonderful.
He strides toward Illuga's table and, without invitation, drops into the chair opposite him.
"Good evening," Lohen says conversationally.
Illuga isn't surprised. He'd seen him coming from halfway across the room and takes a small amount of satisfaction in knowing Lohen failed to startle him.
"What do you want, Lohen?"
"Straight to business? Not even a hello?"
Before Illuga can answer, Lohen reaches across the table, snatches up the untouched drink, and downs it in a single swallow. He winces at the taste.
Illuga's expression doesn't change.
Lohen sighs dramatically and leans back in his chair.
"Why don't you ever greet me when we meet, Illuga?" he asks brightly. "Our forces rarely cross paths, and when they do, you never say hello."
Illuga eyes him skeptically.
It's true that the Lightkeepers rarely have reason to work alongside the Knights, but the Wild Hunt was vicious and unpredictable enough that Varka had sent the Fifth Company to assist.
"Lohen's a good man," Varka had said, clapping Illuga on the shoulder. "Don't worry about him. He and the rest of the Fifth Company will take care of the Wild Hunt soon enough."
In hindsight, Illuga suspects Varka's definition of "good man" differs greatly from his own.
The vice captain's reputation for sadism and bloodshed was bad enough. Combined with his relentless attempts to involve himself in Illuga's life, it made him nearly impossible to tolerate.
Not that avoiding him had accomplished much.
Lohen had somehow learned an alarming amount about him, to the point that he was occasionally manipulating or provoking members of his squad just to satisfy his curiosity. Worse, most of the information he gathered wasn't even useful!
Of course, Illuga had been furious.
Unfortunately, the diplomat in him recognized that outrage was exactly what Lohen wanted.
So he'd settled for repairing the damage afterward- patching wounds, smoothing over arguments, and cleaning up whatever chaos the vice captain had left behind.
One day, he swore, he'd find a way to return the favor.
"Fine. Hello, Lohen," Illuga says flatly.
"There. Was that so difficult?"
"A little."
That earns a laugh.
Illuga rubs at his eyes before looking back down at his reports.
He's exhausted.
Today's patrol had involved multiple clashes with the Wild Hunt, followed by hours spent tending to injuries, organizing the camp, and overseeing the night's perimeter watch. By the time he'd returned, he'd barely managed to collapse into a chair before Demyan quietly slid a drink into his hand.
The exhaustion runs deeper than physical fatigue. It's the sort of weariness that settles inside a person and refuses to leave.
Thankfully, Lohen doesn't know that. At least, Illuga hopes he doesn't.
The vice captain is studying him now, his gaze sharp and calculating.
"You should sleep."
Illuga looks up in surprise.
At some point while he'd been absorbed in his paperwork, Lohen had shifted positions. He's lounging comfortably now, one leg crossed over the other, arms folded loosely across his chest.
That unsettling smile still lingers on his face.
Illuga glares.
"I wasn't aware I'd asked for medical advice."
"You didn't. I'm giving it to you for free."
"I'd rather have my money back."
Lohen chuckles.
Then the chuckle grows into full-blown laughter.
His shoulders shake. Tears spring to his eyes. For a moment, he looks as though he might actually fall out of his chair.
Illuga watches with a mixture of fascination and concern.
Was he absolutely sure this man wasn't missing a few screws?
Eventually, Lohen sighs and wipes at his eyes.
"What a silly plan," he says. "Why waste your night staring at paperwork when you could be out there foiling conspiracies and murdering poor, unsuspecting monsters? The sea can only withstand so much of your icy glare."
Slowly, Illuga lifts his gaze.
Lohen has somehow produced a dagger.
Again.
Archons only knew where he kept them.
The vice captain is absentmindedly pressing the blade into the pad of his thumb, watching with obvious interest as blood beads along the cut and runs down his hand.
Then, without hesitation, he sticks the injured thumb into his mouth. He smiles at Illuga, blood now staining his teeth red.
Illuga's eye twitches.
He sets down his pen.
"Respectfully, Vice Captain," he says, "what exactly are you doing here?"
He gestures toward the reports spread across the table.
"As you can see, I'm currently writing reports on today's encounters with the Wild Hunt. If you don't have a reason for being here, I'd appreciate it if you found another table."
In retaliation to his words, Lohen immediately sprawls his body over the table, nearly knocking over half of Illuga's reports and letting a few of them flutter to the floor. He doesn't seem to mind, or care.
Cushioning his head against his arms, he speaks:
"Can't I just visit my favourite Lightkeeper?"
"No. I don't even know why I'm your favourite. All I have is disdain for you."
"Cruel."
Suddenly, Lohen straightens and pulls out a bottle from inside his cloak. It's brightly coloured, yellow liquid sloshing around inside as he sets it firmly down on the table. He leans back into his chair.
Illuga looks at the offending lemon beverage on his table, along with the blood smearing it. "What's this?"
Lohen smirks. "Apple Cider from Mondstadt. I don't tend to drink alcohol, so I brought this instead. You've never tried it before?"
Illuga shakes his head. "Why the hell are you offering to drink with me? We barely know each other."
"Hey, I borrowed this just for you. Don't let it go to waste."
He's too tired to question how Lohen knew he'd be here or how Lohen definitely stole that bottle from somewhere. With a tilt of his head, he motions for Lohen to pour him a drink.
"Just one drink."
As Lohen leaves to get a second glass, he tentatively brings his lips to the rim of his own glass and takes a sip.
The flavour that hits him is strong, fresh, and decidedly fruity. He feels immediately awake.
"Good stuff, huh?"
Illuga looks up to see Lohen weaving his way back through the tables, a second glass in one hand and the bottle tucked beneath his arm.
"You left me alone with this for less than a minute, how am I supposed to know?"
"Trust is important in any relationship."
"We don't have a relationship."
Lohen drops into his seat.
"See? That's exactly the sort of thing someone in a relationship would say."
Illuga pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs heavily. Why was he still letting this bastard sit at his table anyways?
The vice captain pours himself a glass and lifts it to Illuga in a silent toast.
For a moment, neither of them speaks.
Lohen swirls the cider around lazily before taking a sip. "Hmm."
"What?"
"Mmm, nothing."
Illuga narrows his eyes.
Lohen was many things. Subtle wasn't one of them.
"What?"
The grin returns.
"Oh, I was just wondering."
"That's dangerous territory there."
"I know."
Lohen props his chin on one hand. His dead purple-red eyes bear into Illuga's own.
"You ever do anything besides work?"
Illuga stares. That's what he wants to know?
Lohen stares back.
The silence stretches. He can hear the buzz of fireflies starting to rise from their diurnal sleep.
"...No."
"Hah!"
The laugh bursts out of Lohen so suddenly that several nearby patrons turn to stare. His cider glass wobbles dangerously near the edge of the table, abandoned in the wake of his outburst. Illuga lunges forward on instinct, catching the stem before it could tip over.
Honestly.
A glass that delicate had no business belonging to someone like Lohen. Leaving fragile objects unattended around the Vice Captain was roughly equivalent to throwing them overboard and hoping for the best. He places the glass back on the table, further from the edge, with considerably more care than its owner had shown it.
"You're serious!"
"I'm squad leader."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only answer you're getting."
"Tragic. So tragic." Lohen shakes his head.
For a while, they drink in silence.
Or rather, Illuga drinks in silence and writes his reports. The chatter of the other patrons fades into a dull background, leaving only him and the sea sparkling in the distance. Well, it should have.
Lohen spends the time alternating between staring out the window, staring at Illuga's reports, and staring directly at Illuga.
The last one is by far the most irritating. It's not even a normal kind of staring, if that even was a thing. Most people, normal people, when caught, have the decency to look embarrassed.
Lohen just keeps quietly staring at him with those dull eyes with some sort of morbid interest, as though Illuga was some sort of specimen in a jar.
At first, Illuga tries to ignore it. When that doesn't work, he switches to glaring.
Lohen's only reaction to his obvious discomfort is to smile.
Then, Illuga attempts to return to his paperwork, to shut him out. Just ignore him, he thinks to himself. He's trying to get a reaction out of you.
Lohen keeps staring.
Just. Ignore. Him.
Eventually, Illuga lowers his pen with the sort of patience usually reserved for escaping Aino's classes.
"What is your problem?"
"What what?"
"You keep looking at me."
Lohen blinks innocently. Unfortunate that it doesn't really work, considering that the whole "insane," look that's going for him is hard to ignore.
"Am I?"
"Yes."
"Huh." Another grin spreads across his face like runny yolk. Illuga eyes him with disgust.
"You've rubbed your eyes eight times since I got here."
Illuga immediately regrets asking him what he was up to.
"You counted?"
"I count lots of things."
"That's concerning- actually, no, scratch that. It doesn't even break the top ten of the weird things I've seen you do." Illuga snorts.
"You also reread the same report twice." Lohen uncrosses and recrosses his arms and legs. He tilts his head.
"..."
"And you've been writing slower." His grin stretches wider.
"..."
"And your handwriting is getting worse." He finishes.
Illuga glances down.
To his horror, Lohen is correct.
The letters at the bottom of the page have begun to slant.
Lohen looks delighted.
"You should sleep," he says, now with a new manic gleam to his eyes. Illuga raises his guard, eyeing him warily.
"No. Anyways, who are you to tell me what to do?"
"That's not healthy."
"Neither are half the things you do."
"The outrage!" He gasps.
"It was meant to be."
Lohen laughs.
A nearby patron flinches.
Illuga suspects the reaction is justified. After all, he would have done the same- if the source of the sound wasn't sitting in front of him.
Have to be polite, after all, even when the other person can't seem to demonstrate basic manners.
It's honestly strange how Lohen acts with him compared to everyone else; he seems to be such a distinguished member of the Knights, sociable and friendly. Nope, Illuga got the twisted, ugly side of the coin.
"I hate talking to you."
"No you don't," Lohen chuckles.
"I absolutely do." he grits out.
"No, no." Lohen waves a hand dismissively. "You hate that I'm right."
"There's a difference?"
"Oh, absolutely."
That's when it hits Illuga that this situation is very abnormal. What the hell?
Lohen may be a cunning prankster- if the stories about him and Varka are anything to go by- but he doesn't sit for hours watching people write reports. The fact that he's involuntarily spending his evening here, staring at Illuga, instead of doing whatever Mondstadters do with their lives is suspicious in its own right. Why was he still here?
Why was Illuga still here, letting this psycho stare him down as he did his work?
Most importantly, why was he apparently the most interesting thing in this room when he could be out slaying monsters like he said he enjoyed doing? This is getting weirder by the minute...
As he pours another round, Lohen's gaze lingers on Illuga's glass for just a fraction too long. Then his smile sharpens.
That, more than anything, sets off alarm bells inside Illuga's head.
Illuga knows that smile.
It's the same smile Lohen wears before springing traps on unsuspecting new recruits. He's seen it in action.
The same smile he wears before suggesting "special training."
The same smile he wore before somehow replacing every barrel and jug of wine in the Fifth Company's mess hall with poison.
Something is wrong.
Illuga says nothing. Instead, he watches Lohen warily. What's he going to do now?
Lohen pushes the freshly poured glass toward him.
"Here."
"Generous."
"I know." The smile widens. Suspicious.
Illuga lifts the glass. He prepares to take a sip.
Lohen watches.
The moment stretches.
Then Illuga lowers it again.
Lohen's smile falters. He covers it up immediately- if Illuga hadn't been watching him so closely, he wouldn't have seen it happen.
Interesting. What did Lohen do to his drink?
Illuga pretends not to notice.
A few minutes later, Lohen gets distracted explaining why Grand Master Varka should send him out on more expeditions. He's good at infiltrating, manipulating, and killing things, so what's the hold-up?
Apparently he has very strong opinions on the subject.
While he's gesturing dramatically with both hands, Illuga reaches forward.
And switches the glasses. A simple movement, nothing fancy.
With a small nudge, his original glass is now on Lohen's side.
Lohen never even looks down.
"...and that's why I maintain that I deserve to see Varka squirm whenever he's in my line of sight."
Illuga takes a drink. He can hear the stomps of late-night bounty hunters clunking their way into the threshold.
Lohen immediately grabs the other glass and drinks as well.
Satisfied, he continues talking.
Illuga almost feels bad. Almost...
An hour later, he definitely doesn't. With a slight smile, he leans back into his chair, emulating Lohen's previous demeanor.
"Lohen."
"Hmmm?"
"How many fingers am I holding up?"
The vice captain squints.
"...four?"
He's holding up two.
Illuga folds his arms.
Lohen stares at him.
Then at his own glass.
Then at Illuga's.
Then back at his.
Slowly, painfully slowly, realization dawns. His pupils dilate slightly as he stares at his drink, mouth slightly agape. He lets go of his glass slightly. Illuga wishes he could capture this moment permanently in his memory, the moment where Lohen's off-guard.
A slow, sharp smile of Illuga's own appears; now it's his turn to grin.
"Oh..."
"Yes."
"Oh, no."
"Indeed."
For the first time since meeting him, Illuga watches genuine sheepishness cross Lohen's face. It is immensely satisfying.
The vice captain groans and drops his forehead onto the table with a thunk.
"You switched them."
"I switched them."
"That was mine."
"It was."
Lohen remains motionless faceplanted on the table. Illuga resumes his work.
Then:
"Hypothetically-"
"No."
"Hypothetically."
"No. I don't want to hear it."
"Hypothetically, if somebody had intended to help a certain overworked Lightkeeper get some sleep-"
"You spiked my drink!"
"I medicated your drink."
"That's worse."
"It's actually significantly better."
Illuga pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. There's no use trying to argue with someone with such twisted morals, he tells himself firmly.
The conversation only deteriorates from there.
Within another twenty minutes, Lohen can barely sit upright.
He insists repeatedly that he's perfectly capable of walking.
This claim is disproven the moment he stands and immediately collides with a chair. The chair wins. With a disgruntled oof, he lands on the floor, limbs akimbo.
He looks so sad like that, lying on the floor.
"Mmmph.."
Eventually, with the patience of a saint and the resignation of a man suffering Celestia's divine punishment, Illuga hooks one of Lohen's arms over his shoulder and drags him toward the Vice Captain's quarters he apparently booked in the time it took to grab that glass.
The walk is long and tedious. Illuga grits his teeth and keeps moving. Demyan looks on with concern, bewilderment twisting his features.
"Hey, Illuga. If you need help bringing him up, call me over, okay?" he says, towel in hand as he cleans yet another glass.
Illuga, sweat beading his brow, nods to show his assent. Why do Knights wear so much armour?! It makes Lohen much heavier than he probably actually is.
"Lohen!"
"Hmm?"
"Stop waving at strangers."
"They waved first."
"They didn't."
"Oh."
A pause.
"...They're very rude," he pouts.
By the time Illuga drags Lohen upstairs and reaches his room, he's considering abandoning him in the hallway.
The only thing stopping him is the amount of paperwork that would probably result.
He shoves the door open.
Lohen immediately collapses face-first onto the bed.
For several blissful seconds, the room is quiet.
Then, muffled:
"You were supposed to be the one getting carried," he whines.
Illuga closes his eyes. Of course.
"You planned this entire thing."
"It was a good plan."
"It was not."
"It would've worked."
"It literally didn't."
Lohen considers this.
"Huh."
Another pause.
Then, much softer:
"...You're stronger than you look."
Illuga freezes. He turns, still frozen, towards Lohen lying in the bed.
Before he can think of a response, Lohen is already drifting off. Within moments, he's asleep.
Illuga stands there for a while.
Then he notices a notebook sticking out from beneath a pile of equipment.
Curiosity gets the better of him. He opens it.
Inside is a list.
In fact, an alarmingly detailed list.
About him.
Names, notes, observations, preferences, habits. The handwriting is unmistakably Lohen's.
And beside Illuga's name is written:
"Squad leader. Cute. Doesn't sleep enough. Looks fun to spar with; would poison work? I wonder if I'd be able to convince him to make soup.."
Illuga stares.
Then slowly crosses out the word "poison," and closes the notebook. He finds himself smiling, oddly. He'll have to make Lohen soup sometime.
"...You're unbelievable."
Lohen snores.
Illuga leaves before he's tempted to smother him with a pillow.