Archive of Our Own

The night succeeding the Windblume Festival is always one where many of the Knights of Favonius, after work hours, gather in the Angel’s Share and celebrate the passing of another successful festival season. It has been going on like this for many years; a tradition, of sorts, belonging only to the knights. Of course, the tavern does have a carrying capacity, so only those personally invited by the Grand Master Varka (or in recent years, by Acting Grand Master Jean while Varka was away on expedition) may join. 

And every year on that day like clockwork, Diluc closes the tavern early—a mere seven p.m, and waits for the knights to come. He always mans the bar on this specific night, even though he clearly has a grudge against the knights and always grumbles about how “they’re always so inefficient,” he doesn't seem to hate them enough to let such an interesting opportunity pass. After all, what better secrets and stories come to light than a special gathering which happens only once a year?

It starts like this: 

“Here’s to another great Windblume!” Varka toasts in his gruff voice, hardly slurring the words despite having consumed an ungodly amount of wine that evening which could rival even the drinking capacity of Barbatos himself. 

Various glasses and cups clink together, drinks sloshing in their cups as a certain tall glass belonging to Jean catches the light; bright, pure, a glint in the darkness, sending out a small glare that causes some more light-sensitive people to squint. 

It’s about two hours into the celebration, the sun far past the horizon, and moonlight shines just like those days in Nod Krai.

The conversation topics have been relatively tame so far, nothing personal: just recounting some chaotic days in Headquarters, Klee being another nation-wide threat to Mondstadt’s entire fish population, Albedo’s experiments, the usual. 

Lohen sits at a small round table nursing a cup of cider. He chimes into the conversation occasionally and makes suggestions, words coming out easy and unfettered by any other existing burdens, but otherwise isn’t all that interested in the drunken ramblings of Varka that he’s heard a thousand times before or whatever staring contest that Kaeya and Diluc are locked in right now. 

It’s strange how Kaeya and Diluc still have so much tension between each other even after all these years. Even most of the colliding conflicts in philosophy between Lohen and Diluc have faded. But they barely have an extensive history, so Lohen supposes it’s fair. 

Then, Amber stretches her arms, and the loose sleeves on her outfit fall downwards, revealing her soulmark positioned just below her right shoulder. It’s a simple yet intricate one—a small flower that isn’t native to Mondstadt, just five petals surrounding a large bud with almost a star-like symbol in the middle. The mark is a dim etch of lines engraved into her skin, and it stays its neutral colour: just a few shades darker than her skin tone. 

Clearly, Lohen wasn’t the only person to have noticed, because Kaeya, fresh out of having lost his unofficial staring contest with Diluc, soon points it out. 

“My,” Kaeya starts, his voice suave. There’s a spark of interest in his eyes, which can only mean something bad. “What a beautiful soulmark you’ve got there. Interested in who's on the other side?”

“Huh?” Amber questions, turning to Kaeya, before noticing that he was talking to her. “Oh! Yeah,” she smiles back, abashed, bringing up a hand to rub the back of her neck. “I’m not all that interested in soulmates anymore, though. It’s only recently when I’ve taken to not covering it.”

Her arm goes down, and she rolls the sleeve back up to show it off. “I’ve already found who I want to be with regardless of my fated pair, so it’s not that important to me.” Amber glances at Eula from across the room, flashing her a soft smile. Lohen watches Eula return one, and then glare at anyone else in the room whose attention is focused on her. 

“Wise words coming from our star Outrider indeed,” Kaeya agrees, nodding his head. “Although, I’d personally prefer waiting.” He puts a hand up in a raise of his shoulders.

“With everyone you flirt with, I’d assume the exact opposite,” Diluc cuts in, unimpressed, crossing his arms. 

Kaeya puts one hand over his heart, starting to pout. “My, Diluc, how you wound me.” The sad puppy act is pretty believable, if everyone in the room didn’t already know what kind of person Kaeya is. Lohen hides an upturn of his lips around the rim of his cup. 

“He’s not wrong, though,” Amber laughs, the sound coming out lighthearted. She takes a sip of her dandelion wine, a small pink flush starting to appear over her cheeks. “We’ve lost count of how many new knights you’ve woo’ed over the years into confessing for you. You’re like…” she pauses, deep in thought. “A national heartbreaker, or something.” 

Chuckles ring out through the room, because this observation, in Lohen’s opinion, is entirely true. But that’s just how Kaeya likes it, so it’s his fault, really. Lohen shuffles, changing his position on his seat to cross his legs on the chair. 

Kaeya just sighs at that with a small grin on his face like he really doesn’t feel bad at all. He raises his shoulders in an insincere shrug, like he’s trying to say well, what can you do? “It’s not my fault everyone’s just head over heels for me,” he says with a flirtatious tone, words inflecting in a way that says it’s entirely on him. Then he straightens up. “But on a more serious note, I think that I’d like to wait for my soulmate first. I’m not really in any particular rush, after all.” 

“Oh?” Lisa asks, finally joining the conversation, intrigued. “Two years ago, you simply didn’t care. What changed?” Her hand rests on top of Jean’s, their matching rings flaunted to the room. It’s no secret that they’re each other's soulmates. It’s been a common fact in the Favonius headquarters for as long as Lohen’s known. He’s seen Lisa’s soulmark, displayed on her thigh, but Jean’s is always covered by her pants in the same spot. Lisa’s mark glows a light sea-green silver, like the shade of dandelions over a crisp blue-green lake caught in the wind. The mark itself is a fierce lion, few lines making up the shape (it’s honestly hard to tell the kind of animal it is); relatively simple compared to other soulmarks (and well, to Lohen’s own). 

They’re a good couple. Lohen can see why they were made for each other, but he’s never felt particularly jealous, unlike what he’s overheard from other knights bemoaning their single status. And, well, there’s really no reason to be jealous, when he’s already found his other half. But that’s unrelated. 

Lohen tunes back into the conversation, but he finds that he hasn’t missed a lot. He catches the tail-end of Kaeya’s response to Lisa, something about “wanting to trust in fate” more often, or whatever. Lohen can understand the sentiment—he’s another example. 

Some other knights chime in agreement with Kaeya. Others disagree, and some are just neutral. The topic is interesting for everyone, after all. Soulmates are the kind of thing that no one really discusses with other people, simply because it’s so rare to find whoever that person is—not to mention you have to make skin-on-skin contact with them to figure it out, because for some bizarre reason, soulmarks don’t match with each other—they only rest on the same spot, and glow brighter after initial contact with the soulmate when touch is initiated. Most people never get the chance to meet who they’ve been destined to be with. 

It’s kind of a taboo subject, in retrospect. Soulmates make things more complicated. People get used to covering it, hiding it, ignoring their existence; pretending like the grasps of fate won’t affect them if they turn a blind eye—and believing in this is certainly easier than not. Because easy means there’s no life-changing event with barbed wires at its back. So it’s kept silent, hidden, only uncovered amongst trusted companions. 

It seems then that the conversation ends; no one really wants to go any deeper than that. Lohen is fine with this, but learning a little more about his colleagues will surely be interesting information to use in the future, if he gets the chance. He was considering poisoning most of the knights by the end of the night, just for fun (especially Varka—the man's hard to poison. Lohen knows this, probably better than anyone), but it’s too expected of him. No one lets him near their drinks after various… incidents. 

And it’s a holiday, one that Lohen does enjoy. So he supposes he could cut everyone else some slack. He’ll just choose to do it in a week, or something, because poisoning people who are already drunk gets boring after a while. They’re already plastered; so he’s helping them more than hindering them. 

Drinking to death is a very real thing, after all. And it dulls the senses. Lohen thinks he's the only sober one in the room right now—other than Diluc. 

But Lohen’s sure he can do something else to stir up a ruckus. It’s a card he’s had hidden under his sleeve for a while, actually, just waiting for the opportune moment to drop it. 

The rest of the evening comes and goes relatively quickly. Albedo discusses his research in Dragonspine with Sucrose and Eula for a solid hour; something about a longer-lasting alchemical remedy to the cold or simply constructs that do not require fire to light it, but rather any kind of strong elemental energy. 

…That would be helpful actually, Lohen thinks. It’s really hard to kill monsters in Dragonspine when the vision he wields is also cryo. Since unfortunately, two wrongs don’t always make a right. 

More toasts are made, more topics of interest are discussed, and everyone’s a solid four hours into the celebration at the tavern, clock near the back of the establishment just an hour before midnight.

It’s clear that things are about settling down, the buzz of the tavern getting quieter, and Lohen is about to stretch his arms and announce his departure before he catches Kaeya staring at him, unabashed and inspecting. Huh. Okay. That’s weird. Lohen raises an eyebrow back at him, and Kaeya breaks eye contact. Assuming he’s in the clear, Lohen steadies a hand on the table and—

“Hey, hang on a minute,” Kaeya says, before Lohen can leave. He narrows his eyes, and gives Lohen an accusing look when Lohen’s head has whipped back towards him. “You’ve never shared with us how you feel about soulmates. Not once, through all these years.” 

“Isn’t this a pretty old topic? Thought we were done talking about this two hours ago.”

Kaeya’s gaze flicks to the clock. “The point still stands.”

“What is there to say?” Lohen feigns indifference. He watches Varka chortle into his drink from the corner of his eye. 

“Really?”

Lohen hums. “Maybe.”

“What an awfully obscure answer.”

“Don’t you think you’re reading too much into this, Captain Kaeya?”

“We’ve all shared our opinions, Vice Captain Lohen. What’s keeping you so vague?”

“Uh, guys–” Jean starts, but decides it’s not worth it after being cut off.

“What if I just don’t see any value in it?” Lohen suggests innocently, leaning forwards. His chin comes to rest on a closed fist. 

Kaeya returns the action. “Do you not?”

“Did I not just say that, or is the alcohol really getting to you?”

“You know I have a good tolerance.” Kaeya scoffs. 

“Don’t I?”

“What the fuck,” somebody mumbles. Both Lohen and Kaeya ignore it. 

“Then maybe,” Kaeya suggests, “It’s you who could do well with a drink.” He tips his Death After Noon at Lohen, before raising it to his lips and downing the rest of the glass. The glass clinks on the hard wood table as he sets it down. “So,” he continues, eyes sharpened like a cat's, four-pointed star in his pupil constricting. “Is that really your final answer?”

Lohen pretends to appear to be deep in thought, like he’s giving it a good mull-over in his mind. 

His eyes advert to the wall; elsewhere, examining, thinking, face kept carefully blank.

“Well,” he finally answers, after a few long moments. “Seeing as I’m already dating my soulmate, I guess it’s not.” 

Kaeya chokes, does a double take, and his face runs through its entire emotional vocabulary all at once. Someone else drops their glass. “What.”

“Yeah,” Amber calls out, suddenly alert despite being on the edge of passing out and being banned from consuming another drink by Eula due to being a lightweight. She hiccups once before continuing: “What?!” She gets up from her seat, her palms braced on the table. She stares at him in shock. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

Everyone else has similar reactions, if a quick scan around the room says anything. 

Mika’s jaw has dropped to the floor. Diluc looks like he’s about to have an aneurysm and kick all of them out of the tavern. Jean looks surprised, Lisa still by her side with the beginnings of an evil smile on her face, and even Albedo looks mildly intrigued. 

And then, in contrast to everyone else, Varka looks very amused, because he’s known for a while. He and Lohen were in Nod Krai together, after all. 

“Well,” Lohen says, in leeway of explanation. “No one asked if I did.”

“But—” Amber begins, conflicting emotions of betrayal, confusion, and curiosity running through her. 

“Wait,” Kaeya interjects, before Amber can continue her questionnaire, leveling an accusing glare at Lohen. “Prove it.”

Lohen raises an eyebrow. “Isn’t my word enough?”

“No.”

Okay, well, that’s fair. “Then I suppose you’ll have to keep guessing.” 

“Then I guess you’re a liar.”

“Am I?”

Someone groans. Mika lays his face flat down on the table, exasperated by their back-and-forth banter that’s really just a bad excuse of their natural need to get under people's skin.

“No, no,” Albedo observes, with a scrutinizing look on his face, similar to one he puts on when conducting a slightly morally dubious experiment. “I believe he’s telling the truth.” 

“Mm, yeah,” Lisa concurs. “I don’t think Lohen would lie about something like this. It’s too… unlike him. Ah, but that does make me curious about this mystery soulmate,” She sounds inviting, like she’s trying to get Lohen’s guard down to talk more about this so-called soulmate—or more likely; his soulmark. 

And your soulmate is probably someone as insane as you, goes unsaid, but Lohen can tell that everyone's thinking it. Too bad that they’re also all wrong, but they can keep assuming what they want. What? It's their fault. 

“Someone good,” Lohen responds, thinking about his soulmate, Illuga, his face softening in thought. Yeah, he’s really good. Even though they met rather unconventionally, (see: Lohen passing out on him from blood loss and activating their soulmarks while Illuga tried to keep him from dying) Lohen can’t really imagine his soulmate being anyone else. It feels right. It’s right. 

“Holy shit,” Kaeya whispers, eyes widened in disbelief, breaking Lohen out of his thoughts. “He’s smiling. I’ve never seen him smile like that. Not even after that time he managed to catch Varka off guard.”

Varka, finally deciding to grace himself with an appearance into the conversation, chuckles at that, eyes fixed on Lohen, who has snapped back to looking normal, annoyed at having been called out. “Well, I can’t deny, his soulmate has that kind of effect on people. He has my praises, that’s for sure.”

“What?! You knew?” Amber cries, for the second time in the past five minutes. 

“Why am I not surprised,” Kaeya mutters to himself after the initial whiplash that the statement had given to him. 

“Varka’s always been like this, unfortunately,” Lisa tells him consolingly. “But I must admit, I was not expecting such, hm, interesting talk tonight.”

“Hmph.” Eula huffs. “I should have vengeance for this obstruction of knowledge.” 

“That’s not a thing,” Diluc speaks up. 

“You’re not helping.”

“Yeah,” Kaeya backs her up, before insulting him. “You’re not a knight anymore either, so kindly remove yourself from the conversation. We’re having an important discussion here about Lohen’s soulmate that he said nothing about for whoever knows how long.” Kaeya shifts his gaze to Lohen, where he suspiciously scrutinizes him. Lohen, on the other hand, stares back at him innocently. 

“Who said I was joining the conversation?” Diluc asks, pouring another drink. 

“What, do you want me to call it rudely barging in? Eavesdropping?”

“It’s hardly eavesdropping if the entire tavern can hear you.”

“Is it? I’m afraid that the entire tavern is all one group, so technically, the only outsider here is you.”

“Then maybe, this outsider should cut you off now.”

“Th—there’s no need for that, Master Diluc.” Kaeya panics, losing his demeanor. Right, because there's nothing worse than not being able to be drunk in a conversation like this. 

“Fascinating,” Albedo whispers to himself, the discourse between the two entertaining as ever. 

Jean sighs, her head resting on one hand, the beginnings of a headache forming at her temple. Lisa cards her fingers through Jean’s hair, working out some of the knots. Mika’s head is still on the table—Sucrose checking up to see if he’s still conscious. 

This night has certainly devolved into something, Lohen surmises, and he calls it a job well done. Poison can’t always be the answer. Things have to be changed up sometimes, no?

But– it’s late, and he has no intention of staying in this conversation that’s mostly fueled by alcohol and wine. Compared to the shitshow that are his colleagues, his bed seems like a much better alternative. 

And if he’s going to get interrogated, which he surely will after the bomb he just dropped on everyone earlier, he’d rather do it at a more reasonable time. 

“Well,” Lohen gets up, making up his mind. “I think it’s time for me to go.”

“Hey, wait—you can’t do that—we haven’t—!” Amber tries to stop him, reaching out a hand. 

Lohen continues anyways, making his way to the exit. His boots make no sounds on the floor, despite them being heeled. Everyone’s eyes are fixated intently on him regardless, and Lohen can’t help but feel a little smug.

And right before he bids everyone farewell, his fingers brushing over the cool metal of the doorknob before taking it back, he makes the show of untucking his uniform shirt from his pants, and lifting it up to reveal the skin of his waist underneath—just a sliver, nothing much, but the intention for this action is clear. 

Because right above his left hip, sitting snugly on his waist, is a shining pale-gold soulmark of a nightingale in flight.

—

As expected, the Knights of Favonius are not letting this soulmate business go.

Lohen didn’t expect anything less, so it was inevitable that they would figure out his weekly letters sent to Piramida– the Lightkeeper headquarters, at Nod Krai. 

He’s done his best to skim past their questions; never revealing too much, but also not keeping them entirely in the dark. It’s entertaining, to say the least. Illuga agrees, so Lohen must be doing something right. 

The knights, namely Kaeya, Lisa, Amber—but Lohen thinks that they’ve even managed to rope Eula and possibly even Jean (definitely because of Lisa) into it—are planning to intercept one of his letters soon, through extorting the mail-delivery service from Mondstadt to Nod-Krai. This is an exceptionally easy feat, as the couriers are usually part of the Knights of Favonius and they all rank lower than the rest of the knights. So, they really don’t have a choice, especially because Lohen doesn’t exactly have the authority to surpass most of the involved people’s authority.. 

Corrupt much? Yeah. But they’ve all done worse. 

And while Lohen’s sure he could just stop this from happening by asking Varka, who he knows has a soft spot for him, Varka’s currently out on a short diplomacy trip to Liyue with the Tianquan. So that’s not a viable option, either. Honestly, Lohen probably wouldn’t even go to Varka if he could. That’s almost worse than admitting defeat—running to authority figures when he’s been cornered? Really?

—Right. So none of that. 

Besides, Lohen has the adequate knowledge and resources to outsmart everyone else. It’s one simple fact: they didn’t realize that he’d eavesdropped on their conversation about snatching his rather personal letter to his soulmate. 

—

“Lisa,” Kaeya sings, sauntering into the library. “Found something out about our very own vice captain’s soulmate.”

It’s been about a week since the whole incident at the tavern since the knights have figured out that Lohen has met, and is allegedly dating, his soulmate. Lohen’s been dropping hints about his soulmate here and there—but nothing concrete, barely anything to work off of. Easy things to say, like “the soulmark fits him well,” “we’re not all that similar,” which did come as a surprise, because what normal person is willing to date the battle-maniac Lohen of all people?—and small smiles reserved only for this mystery person. 

It would be almost endearing, seeing Lohen in such a manner, if he wasn’t being such an ass about it. Seriously, they’ve known him for years, have spoken to him, forged bonds and maybe friendships, and yet the only person he trusts with this information is Grand Master Varka, who probably figured it out himself. 

“Oh?” Lisa straightens up in her chair, before loosely clasping her hands together. Jean, who was formerly standing in front of the desk, also turns around. “Pray tell?”

“I’ve been informed,” Kaeya opens, looking fairly proud of himself, “that Lohen sends weekly letters to a certain somewhere, likely for a certain someone, in Nod Krai. Unfortunately, there's only the address; no name.”

Then, Kaeya realizes that saying this right in front of Jean probably isn’t that great of an idea, if the next question she asks him is any indicator. 

“Kaeya, please don’t tell me you interrogated the couriers again.” 

“Interrogation’s such a strong word,” Kaeya responds quickly, smooth and poised, dancing around Jean’s question; like he had this answer pre-written. Confidence permeates from him, and if Jean didn’t know any better, she would certainly be fooled. “I’d say it was just some light conversation, perhaps with a bit of questioning sprinkled in. All normal things, no?” Kaeya shrugs. 

“So you did.”

“Do you want to hear what I learned or not?”

Jean looks conflicted. “We really shouldn’t—“

“Do you?” Kaeya presses.

“This is highly morally dubious,” She continues. Lisa just chuckles as she watches the exchange.

“So?”

“…I won't stop you.” Jean sighs, her curiosity having taken over.

That’s enough for Kaeya. A green light by the Acting Grand Master herself—well, that’s basically permission from the whole of Mondstadt. 

“So,” Kaeya gears up to say. “It turns out that, every Monday, our dear vice captain writes a letter to be sent to Piramida, Nod Krai.” He looks incredibly pleased with himself. “Therefore, we can conclude, that Lohen met his soulmate on the expedition and thus has known them for at least a year. 

“And how do we know these letters are addressed to his soulmate?”

“Is there really any other possibility? You know how Lohen is. He rarely even sends letters to his own family.”

“I suppose you are correct.”

“Right, so,” Kaeya pushes. “Piramida?”

“Piramida,” Lisa repeats, deep in thought. “That’s the headquarters for the Lightkeepers; or Ratniki, in Nod Krai. Responsible for keeping the Wild Hunt at bay.” 

Kaeya smirks. “How fitting.”

“Indeed.”

“And so,” Kaeya says. “Here’s my proposition: intercept the letter next Monday, see who it’s being delivered to; and we finally have an answer.”

“Why did I agree to this,” Jean mumbles, more rhetoric than anything. 

“Because you love me,” Lisa responds back, breezily, like an automatic response. Even though that really doesn’t have anything to do with the reason why Jean agreed. Or maybe it does, something like that.

Jean flushes, but gives no reply. Instead, Lisa’s hand comes to brush a strand of hair behind Jean’s ear. 

“A sound plan, Kaeya. I trust that you’ll be the one carrying this out?” 

“Of course.”

Soulmate business is pretty serious, after all. 

—

But of course, Lohen isn’t letting the other knights win.

It’s not that he meant to eavesdrop—really—it’s just that he so happened to be in the right place at the right time. And hasn’t that paid off? Lisa’s desk is on the lower floor of the library; under the first floor of the building and technically a part of the basement. The walls nearest to said desk are relatively thin, because the basement is just storage and it's rare that anyone’s ever there. 

The only reason why Lohen finds himself in the basement is because of, well, errands. Errands of which he was sent on to stop him from wreaking havoc on Mondstadt's headquarters, probably. Since he’s already eliminated most of the elite monster camps that have been flagged by Mika. 

But regardless—those details aren’t important. His next move will be, though.

There’s a new poison he’s been meaning to try out. 

—

It’s perhaps a bit of a contradictory statement to utter, but Lohen is predictable. 

Like always, on Monday morning, Lohen sends out his letter to Piramida through one of their couriers. It’s mostly unassuming—the same paper that everyone uses, basic white envelope with the crest of the Knights of Favonius, standard wax seal keeping the letter shut. It’s meant to appear basic; so no one bats an eye. 

But to Kaeya, that doesn’t matter. Because he knows where to look, what to approach. 

Finding and approaching the courier is easy. Getting the letter is easier. 

The answer is so close in his hands– and Kaeya would like to say he’s done a great job. Kept the situation under his control; his moves under wraps, sanctioned by his job title. It’s not the first time he’s pulled something like this—beautifully, may he add—and it certainly will not be the last. 

The wax seal of the letter is carefully peeled off, leaving no trace. Kaeya wonders here, the same thought that had plagued his mind this past week: who is Lohen’s soulmate? And why was he kept a secret? To the last few thoughts, maybe something rather pitiful, what does it take to be loved, avowedly unconditionally, like that? Who could this person be, to make even Lohen smile like that? Is it fate?

But no matter. He turns the paper over in his hands. Only one way to find out. 

The letter opens with a sharp rustle of parchment. Kaeya’s fingers sweep over the long-dried ink, not reading it yet; he’s savoring the moment, his victory, remembering the almost sweet nectar-like-smell emanating from it, the hint of a coppery tang under all of that. Perfume, is it? That’s strange, but okay. Because for as long as Kaeya has known Lohen, he has never used perfume, let alone owned it. And certainly not this strange smell. It almost feels, what, dizzying? 

Wait. Dizzying? No—that can’t be right, Kaeya thinks, taking another whiff. 

And Kaeya has an absurd thought then, because there’s no way, right? No way. 

Because the only thing about Lohen that can even be pertained to strange liquids is—is—

Kaeya doesn’t even get to see who the letter is addressed to before he’s out like a light, passed out in the middle of his office. Isn’t there a quote about celebrating too early?

–

“This poison sure is strong,” Lohen hums, stepping over Kaeya’s unmoving body, in a relatively uncomfortable position on the ground. He leans over, examining his state. In deep unconsciousness, that's for sure. 

Lohen should probably pick up the letter and discard it; it’s still rather close to Kaeya’s face, and all. He doesn’t really need the letter anyways. It was a decoy, after all. If Kaeya read anything, then he’d realize the letter is entirely gibberish. 

Ah, but he guesses that he wouldn’t really be able to get his questions answered anytime soon. 

That’s fine. Kaeya’s vitals look stable, which is a good sign. That means the poison is just right to be used on subordinates. 

Then… perhaps another “training exercise” for the Fifth Company wouldn’t hurt?

—

None of the Knights involved in the Lohen-soulmate-business (see: Kaeya, Lisa, Amber, Eula, and reluctantly Jean), including Kaeya, go for Lohen’s letters after that. Instead, they employ some other tactics.  

(See: Using Varka as an information fountain. He’ll crack, right? There’s no way he’s more adamant on protecting this secret than Lohen is.)

The day Varka returns from his trip, Eula and Amber ask him to go drinking. Drunk people, after all, are more prone to letting things slip. Doesn’t matter if Varka’s alcohol tolerance is through the roof, because at some point, he’ll get drunk. They just have to capitalize on that. 

And while Eula can’t say she was entirely sure about spending her time to do this at first, she was eventually convinced and is now fully on-board. 

What? Amber can be very persuasive when she wants to be. Ahem. Has nothing to do with their relationship at all. And, well. She thinks she deserves vengeance for the stunt Lohen had pulled. 

Eula huffs out at that, before getting back to the subject matter. 

“Varka,” she starts, her posture kept straight as she and Amber sit across Varka at one of the back tables at the Cat’s Tail. “How did the negotiations and diplomatic discussions go in Liyue with the Tianquan?” She asks leisurely, hoping to get Varka to lower his guard, while unassumingly taking a sip from her cup. 

She crosses her legs, trying to stop them from bouncing. From the corner of her eye, Eula watches Amber quickly steal a glance at her, before scooching just a little closer to the table where her body language would be more difficult to see, and therefore, read. Eula’s heart embarrassingly quickens at the sight, even though it’s such a simple gesture—barely related to her. 

And before she can start thinking too much, Varka clears this throat. “Pretty well. Discussed some trade routes, alliances, that kind of stuff. Nothing particularly interesting.” He gulps his wine down, throwing his head back and setting his cup down before he starts again. “Can’t deny, the Jade Chamber is pretty nice though. Some crazy Adeptal Arts that keep it up in the sky, though.” Varka thinks aloud. 

“Oh yeah,” Amber exclaims, interest piqued. “When I went to Liyue, I saw the Jade Chamber—it was all the way up in the sky! Wonder how far you’d travel if you glided down there…?” She trails off, putting a hand on her chin. 

Varka lets out a hah! at that. “Far, that’s for sure. You’d probably get halfway across Liyue at that point, assuming you take a straight diagonal.”

“We could test it out next time,” Amber suggests, beaming. Eula’s stomach does a little flip at her radiant smile, and she can’t help but flush a little, even as she tries to quickly stamp it.

“Don’t know how the Tianquan would feel about that, using her palace as a gliding platform.” Varka laughs back. 

“Perhaps you could include it in negotiations next time,” Eula puts forward, before taking another sip of her drink. It’s halfway down now. She should watch herself, since she does have to remember everything that will be said tonight. Assuming—no, because it will be helpful. 

They talk a bit more, exchange words, a few more drinks, and they are well into an hour of the gathering before Eula thinks it’s time. 

Perfect, she breathes out, feeling triumphant, watching Varka’s lax expression. This is going well. She signals Amber with a nudge to the ankle, to transition to the next, and most important, question soon. 

Amber gives back a quick nod of her head in understanding while Varka isn’t watching.

“Oh! I forgot to ask earlier,” Amber faux-recalls, her eyes lighting up. “How was talking to the Tianquan in Liyue compared to the other nations? You were in Nod Krai for a while. Was it the Lightkeepers that were the main group you talked with?”

“Mm, yeah.” Varka agrees, brushing his hair back. “Although you know that Nod Krai doesn’t really have a leader, we did work with them very closely in stamping the Wild Hunt.”

“Was there anyone particularly interesting in the Lightkeepers? To the knights, especially?” Eula goes for it, quite sure it’s going to work. Even though Varka’s smart, he's loaded up on booze, and Lohen’s cryptic soulmate can’t hardly be on his mind to protect the identity of right now. 

“Indeed. There were quite a few. Want to hear about them?”

This is it. Yes, Eula thinks. Vengeance will be mine. 

And from beside her, Amber sits up a little straighter in her seat, leaning forwards in anticipation. She can hardly keep still, because she knows, she knows, that they are going to learn. And sure, there are multiple people that Varka is going to name, but they have names and Varka said himself that Lohen’s soulmate had his praises. There’s no way Varka won’t name him, or even introduce him, as Lohen’s. 

“I’d love to.” 

The answer is right there, and Eula’s deduction skills have always been rather remarkable, and—

And it is at the moment that the door bursts open, not slamming it, of course, but loud enough for it to attract their attention—and it is there, that Lohen walks in, pleasant smile on his face (the same he uses when he’s busy looking like a prim-and-proper knight) beelined straight to their table.

Eula hears Amber curse under her breath. “Fuck, shit, fuck fuck,” Amber curses, but still quiet enough that Varka doesn’t hear. Amber squeezes her eyes shut, waiting a few seconds before speaking again, like she hallucinated him and he’s not actually there. “Why, why, why?”

“Why what?” A voice cuts through the commotion in the bar, directly behind Amber and Eula.

Amber almost jumps out of her seat. 

“Ah, Lohen,” Varka greets, hand in a lazy wave. “Here to see the cats again, I take it?” As he says that, a nearby black cat jumps into Lohen’s arms and he cradles it like a child, which honestly is kind of absurd, because Lohen does not have the best track record for children. Or anything small and living. Excluding animals, which also happens to be the majority of that… group. Not the best statement to make, then.

“Spot on, Grandmaster.” Lohen replies. “But seeing as you’re here, you wouldn’t mind me hanging around your table, right? What a coincidence, seeing you all here. Aren’t you guys normally at the Angel’s Share?” Lohen’s gaze pierces right through them, a knowing glint in his eye. The corner of his mouth twitches. 

“Coincidence my ass,” Amber mumbles under her breath, even though she knows that Lohen can hear. But he says nothing in response, so he’s probably chosen to ignore her. Eula agrees with Amber (well, that’s not new. She’s always been weak for Amber.), because seriously, what?

Has he been spying on them? Well, whatever it is. 

“Hey, change of scenery doesn’t hurt, right?” Varka says.

“I suppose not.” Lohen drags a chair to their table before sitting down and setting the cat down on his lap. The cat purrs and leans into his touch, tail still, obviously content. 

Eula feels the exact opposite of how that cat feels right now.

Their plan has been utterly foiled. This is no longer going to work, because Lohen, under no circumstances, is going to let Varka spill secrets about his soulmate. 

“What were you talking about before?” Lohen asks, gaze focused on the cat, scratching her behind her ear. “Nothing so secretive, I hope?”

Eula grits her teeth, and she swears she can almost hear them grinding. “...Of course not. We were just… talking about some notable Lightkeepers in Nod Krai. You,” and Eula tries her absolute best to remember her training and appear unbothered, prim and proper; “may join if you’d like.” 

“Lightkeepers, eh? That reminds me of something else…” Lohen effectively manages to steer the conversation away. 

He stays for the rest of the night. They never get to learn about his soulmate. 

He’s certainly smarter than people give him credit for.

—

Nothing is working. Nothing.

Somehow, in a stroke of omniscience, Lohen manages to foil every single plan that the knights make up. All of them. Questioning him doesn’t even help—he hasn’t slipped up even once. 

In the end, the knights give it up; their disastrous, and rather embarrassing, attempts at figuring out who Lohen’s soulmate weighs heavily on them. Sure, they did learn a reasonable amount of information about his soulmate—but everything else is kept hush, whispers spoken only to the wind. And being poisoned for their efforts isn’t really worth it. 

Their investigations are not as fruitful as they should be, and they should stop sooner as opposed to later before Jean puts every single one of them in solitary confinement. She’s been lenient enough as is, but everyone can tell that her patience is running thin. 

But Lohen is not done—and he’s impressed at the other's sheer persistence of uncovering his soulmate, so why not end everything off with a bang? After all, Illuga is set to visit Mondstadt in a week's time, and Lohen has everything mapped out. Can imagine their shock, the reveal: hook, line, and sinker. His lines, even, are set in stone. 

It seems a little childish to do this—to entertain this—in retrospect, but this is probably preferable to anything else he can pull off that would surely land him in solitary confinement. 

But of course, something just has to go wrong, like everything else in Lohen’s life. 

—

Three days before Illuga arrives, Mondstadt is invaded by the abyss. 

Monsters swarm and flank the walls of the city, and although the moat provides a respectable amount of safety; concentrating monster enters to the main bridge as most are unable to swim (key word: most), the sheer amount of numbers are easily overwhelming. 

And the entities themselves are far from weak, of course. They appear to be amplified, almost, their strength far beyond their average counterparts found in ragtag camps set up around wooded areas of the nation. 

“Lohen!” Varka shouts, an order that can be heard from the other side of the bridge, “you and the Fifth Company flank the entrance and prevent any monsters from getting in. My company will handle the heart of the city. We’ll be sending reinforcements to the bridge soon—we’re stretched thin, and I know the Fifth Company usually doesn’t fight alone, but—Just handle them until then.”

“Understood,” Lohen calls back, halfway through spearing a samachurl, and feeling a rush of satisfaction coursing through him as he finishes tearing through corrupted flesh. He huffs out a breath of laughter at that, watching viscous, red-purple blood spray onto the stone below him. Abyssal energy tries to rise before dissipating as the monster heaves its final, wretched breath. 

Huh. That’s interesting. The abyssal energy seems to flow and die within the monster. Almost reminds him of the Wild Hunt, actually, just to a slightly more animalistic degree (since Wild Hunt anomalies are more human-like and will fight as such, nearly like zombies). A bit stronger than the Wild Hunt, actually. Especially in hordes like this. 

But really, it’s not a time to dwell on things like that right now, Lohen thinks, as he loads up his crossbow to shoot at a particularly annoying riftwolf whelp that just wont stay still. 

And from the back of the bridge, his company fights in tandem with him, providing firepower and support from the sidelines as he rushes ahead—how it should be, and how it’s always been. All the sounds overlap each other; and to the untrained ear, it’d be a jumble of noises upon noises, belonging to all and belonging to none. A shriek from a mitachurl here, the sound of a gunshot there, a grunt of acknowledgement, a squelch of flesh, organized chaos as battle is fought.

He’s missed battles like this, honestly. It’s invigorating. 

An axe comes slamming down towards his side, and Lohen sidesteps, at the very last moment, to dodge and take advantage of a blind spot that the mitachurl has on its back. It falls easy to Lohen’s poison-covered dagger. He continues like this, slashing limbs, immobilizing monsters, watching them grow sluggish with ice shards plugged into their bodies and how they fall and fall and fall and still seeing waves push on and continue forwards despite that. Huh. Doesn’t even look like there are less monsters than before, since they keep on getting replaced as they go.

Lohen narrowly misses getting his chest cavity ripped out by a giant tainted claw, leaving with just a small line over his chest and sadly, a ripped uniform. He’d amassed a small collection of other cuts and bruises during this fight as well, but doesn’t mind at all. The pain, of course, allows him to focus even better than before. There’s a slightly more concerning one on his left thigh, but it’s not enough to actually hinder him—maybe a small limp, though that's about it. Lohen’s pain tolerance has always been unnaturally high, so. 

(Okay, well, it wasn’t always high. Does that detail really matter, though?)

Then the lawachurls and riftwolves show up. Lohen sucks in a breath of excitement. Finally, he thinks. Was wondering when.

“Everyone!” Lohen shouts to the Fifth Company. “If you can, go back into the city and climb the outer walls to start shooting from there.” He orders. Heads are always a weak point, so it’s easier to shoot from higher up. Besides, he knows his knights well enough to be able to tell that an invasion of this scale can’t have them fighting at such close-quarters. They’re the ranged company, after all. And Lohen has a feeling the enemies are going to be able to push much better with this scope of elite monsters. 

The fight starts to pass in a blur, Lohen becoming familiar with strategy, slashing and dodging, brutality and ice spikes driven into hearts with necks slashed, viscera gouged out with stringy fascia littering the ground. A well-timed cryo-infused arrow grazes his shoulder there—and blood does gush out quite a bit—but in his focus, he’d hardly noticed, only thinking:

Mondstadt’s gonna need some serious cleanup on the bridge after this, when I’m done. 

He then engages himself in a battle with a stonehide lawachurl. It’s ridiculously bigger than any of them Lohen’s ever seen, and also corrosive. Lohen’s grip on his polearm is tight with excitement, as it pounds on the ground and sends shockwaves of geo energy that even has him bracing to stay on his feet. 

A gigantic fisted claw—hand?—makes a shadow over Lohen, and he takes this time to get in between the lawachurl’s legs and strike its kneecaps. It howls in pain, and Lohen can’t break the giddy laughter that comes out of him, even when his wounds from earlier begin to throb.

He’s been fighting for a while, he thinks. 

But he loves it. He really does. 

Lohen jumps forwards to finish the monster off, aiming for the jugular vein in the neck, cryo racing along the tip of his spear, having had enough fun with it, until—

“Watch!”

What?

—He turns and twists in midair, and a riftwolf’s teeth close around the area where his neck had just been. 

His eyes widen in disbelief, because how did he not notice? And before he can even unpack that whole part, pain blooms over his abdomen, and he has to stifle a shriek because how? and then he’s flying back towards the ground, scrambling for balance, for purchase, tucking into a roll even when the movement starts to fill his mouth with blood—was the wound really bad enough for the veins near his diaphragm to be severed—?

“Lohen,” someone runs up to him, in what, reds and whites? “Shit,” Lohen hears them say, he thinks, but it’s a little hard to focus when his head is spinning.

Lohen tries to push himself back up, breaths becoming ragged, because the battle isn’t over yet and his senses prick with danger, danger; staying still would be a death wish. 

“No, don’t,” who Lohen now realises is Amber, eyes panicked with hints of fear. “Fuck, is there a medic nearby?”

Lohen weakly chokes out. “Th-the monsters—”

“It’s fine. Reinforcements are here. You did a good job.” 

No I didn’t.

“But—” But I can’t stop fighting now. That would make me weak. I’m not weak. I’m not. 

And yet, he can’t seem to muster the energy to get up. What does that make him?

“Just,” Amber’s head swivels around, watching the knights she brought rush up to the bridge and deal with the monsters. There’s so many. This size of an invasion is insane. And Lohen was down here alone, with only fire support from the sidelines? “Let me get you somewhere safe.”

Lohen coughs once, and blood comes back. He can feel every nerve on fire, every wound suffered, hot blood pouring out pouring out the loss of it making him dizzy. Amber starts to tentatively drag him elsewhere, and shit, when did he get on his back?—his head is pounding. 

Am I weak? “The Fifth Company…,” he blandly says, voice trailing off at the end, sound coming out raspy and pained. 

“Don’t worry,” Amber soothes, starting to put pressure on his stomach wound. Lohen gasps out, and Amber apologizes. But even through all this, he can only focus on one thing. A question he’s asked himself countless of times, and one he doesn’t want to admit the answer to, because he’s scared of what comes after because dwelling on those things never ends up with anything good. 

Am I weak? He questions himself. 

…Will Illuga think I’m weak?

He’s not going to die here, is he? No, he’s survived far worse. This is hardly anything compared to Rerir. But still, he feels the urge to apologize.

“...Sorry,” Lohen manages to get out, through the pain. It’s not very pleasant now. “For…” he tries to breathe in, but it’s hard. “Being weak.”

Amber lets out a sound that's between a wheeze and a sob, pity filling her normally soft features. Her face constricts with something sad. He hates it. He and Amber aren’t even close. He’s pretty sure she’s pissed at him for what happened at the Cat’s Tail. So why is she acting this way? …Whatever. 

“Don’t say that. And please don’t act like you’re dying,” Amber says, her normally cheerful attitude turning solemn.

Lohen tries to let out a laugh. I don’t want to. “Who,” he slurs, “said I was gonna?” I’ve been through worse. I’ll live. Probably. 

Even so, he’s aware that he’s lost this battle. 

The world has started to dim; spots dancing in his vision. Blood loss kind of sucks. Really badly.

Then Amber is saying something back, but it’s hard to comprehend. His ears feel muffled, plugged, almost, and the taste of iron in his mouth is too strong to ignore. He hopes he won’t choke on his own blood later. 

Sorry, he thinks, in the end, even though apologies don’t really mean anything. 

If he lives—which he’s like seventy percent sure he will—he still won’t be able to show Illuga around Mondstadt in this state. 

Lohen curses his mortality. Sorry for being weak. Sorry for being selfish. 

—

Illuga stands by Lohen’s bedside. 

When he’d arrived in Mondstadt earlier in the day, there was a lot that he was expecting. From the way Lohen had described the city in detail, the places they could go sightseeing, local specialties and such, Mondstadt sounded like a place where it was easy to call home. It’s the simple things: dandelions that surround the city, the bustling city center, unbridled and full, clean buildings and windmills whose heights can rival even the lighthouse in Piramida; all of these things combined that set it apart from the law-less Nasha Town in Nod Krai. 

And yet—stepping into the city gates, even though the sun was high in the day, there was no such reflection of these aspects of Mondstadt that Illuga was anticipating. 

It was easy to tell why. 

The smell of the abyss, a recurring scent that's followed him around his whole life. Almost like the Wild Hunt, but also not quite. Even though the city had been mostly cleaned, spots of blood—human or monster?—shards of bone, weapons, and materials dropped from creatures were still visible. 

It was then that Illuga’s mind began to race. What had happened? Was Mondstadt attacked by the abyss? This is the aftermath he’s seeing, but was there anything he could do to help?

And Lohen—the person he was here for. 

Knowing his tendency to charge into battle recklessly—was he okay? 

Was he? Was he?

And before long, his steps taken with hesitance and nervousness, Illuga had found Varka a few meters out from Mondstadt’s gates, just within the city, near what Illuga can only assume is Mondstadt’s Adventurers Guild. 

Varka’s face had dropped upon seeing him. 

Illuga's blood ran cold.

—

“Idiot,” Illuga whispers, taking a seat on the chair placed next to Lohen’s bed in one of the rooms at the Favonius Church. His fingers ghost over Lohen’s bandage-clad figure. His heart tightens painfully at the sight of him, even though this really isn’t new. Illuga wishes that it was. 

Varka had given him a rundown on the events that had transpired in Mondstadt over the past two days—the abyssal invasion, the Knights being stretched thin, the investigation team stuck in Dragonspine, two companies occupied at Springvale with the influx of monsters, various other knights stationed all around Mondstadt, defending Windrise, the Dawn Winery, the back exit of the city, all while Lohen and the Fifth Company had to take on the brunt of the invasion at the front gate while waiting for reinforcements to arrive.

It was messy, from what Illuga had taken. And by looking at Lohen’s state, it could’ve been a lot worse. Illuga can admit that Lohen had done a good job, if the monster-clear state of Mondstadt had meant anything. But still. 

Varka had been worried about Lohen’s life. Illuga can understand this worry—wonders if one day, he’ll just stop receiving letters, and will have to learn of Lohen’s death. Because Lohen chases battle like it’s his oxygen;never wanting to feel weak. And, well, it’s not like Illuga is much better, because Illuga throws himself into work to forget the pain of his past, the people he’s failed to save, and the ones he might be able to with just another patrol.

But one of them always ends up more injured than the other, and by the various wounds that riddle Lohen’s body right now, only obscured by bandages, it’s not hard to guess who. 

Illuga recounts his wounds: there’s a deep gouge in his abdomen, narrowly missing his internal organs, but still severing veins, flesh, muscle. The others are less deep, mostly superficial, from what Varka had told him, but the abyssal energy had taken a while to cleanse from his body. His arm is in a sling. Lohen’s more bandages than he isn’t. He’s covered up on his lower half, but his entire upper half is white. 

—And yet, this scene feels agonizingly familiar, something he’s had to stumble upon time and time again.

And even though they’re soulmates, destined to slot perfectly, and god, Illuga can understand so well that they are, even through everything; being able to read each other, give comfort, love one another despite their differences—

Illuga wonders how many more times he’ll have to find Lohen like this, too similar to the way Illuga had saved his life when they first met in a bed, unconscious, and having just cheated death. 

Illuga puts his head down next to Lohen’s side, and intertwines their hands, even if Lohen is not conscious to reciprocate. He can feel his soulmark, a hare, wielding all of the weapons that Lohen uses: a polearm, dagger, and crossbow, burning a little brighter in that ice-cold blue. Wonders if he’ll ever have to wake up one day and watch it flicker out. 

Illuga dryly swallows, fighting to push down the knot in his throat. The clean smell of antiseptic on the bed fills his senses. He whispers. “Don’t ever go dying on me, okay?”

A few beats. Then:

“Don’t know,” A weak voice greets him back, exhausted and raspy, “if that’s my choice to make, birdie.” 

Illuga sucks in a sharp breath, and shoots up from his seat. “You’re awake,” he breathes out. “Wait—let me get the healer—are you feeling okay? Do you need anything?” In an instant, he’s started towards the door, ready to call the deaconess that was taking care of Lohen’s injuries after the battle—sister Barbara, Varka had said?—before a squeeze to their loosening, clasped hands stops him. 

“Not yet,” Lohen croaks, gripping Illuga’s hand the tightest he can even with his now very limited strength, cracking his eyes open and squinting at the bright lights that are barraging him, his voice barely audible: “...Stay.”

“...Okay,” Illuga says back, his voice with an imperceptible waver. “Okay.” He bites his lower lip, watching Lohen sluggishly come to terms with himself. Illuga spots a glass of water on the nightstand next to the bed and carefully lifts Lohen just enough to tip the water back and let him drink. He’s careful not to aggravate any wounds, but it might be a relatively futile effort. “Sorry,” Illuga apologizes, whenever Lohen winces or gasps.

Illuga sits back down on the chair afterwards, when Lohen starts to speak, clearing his throat. He stares dully towards the white ceiling.

“...Judging by how you’re here, I’m assuming I was out for about three days?”

“Ah. Yeah.”

They sit in awkward silence for a while after that, neither of them wanting to address the things unsaid. But Illuga has a lot of things he wants to say, to ask. How much longer are you going to let yourself suffer? Because I don’t know how many more times I can bear seeing you hurt. I’m scared for you. I don’t want to lose you like everyone else. I’ve never loved anyone as much as I’ve loved you. 

“Varka told me about what happened,” Illuga lamely settles on. 

“I figured.”

“...You did well, protecting Mondstadt.”

Lohen adverts his gaze from the ceiling to the side, despondent. Illuga knows what he’s thinking.

“Hey,” Illuga mumbles softly. “Look at me.”

Lohen complies, but there’s a faraway look in his eyes. “But,” his voice fades. “I had to be saved. Again.”

“I don’t think anyone else could’ve done as well as you did, standing alone in the fray.” 

“Still,” Lohen takes a shaky breath, and Illuga watches his chest expand and retract. “You’re mad at me.”

Illuga’s heart hurts. “I’m not,” he answers back, because whatever he’s feeling comes from a place far more complex than that.

“Maybe. But I also know you hate seeing me hurt.” 

“I hate seeing you value your life so little,” Illuga agrees. “And I wish that you hated yourself a little less.”

Lohen lets out a broken chuckle at that, before wincing. “...I could say the same for you.”

“Yeah.” Maybe. “But I’m always the one who has to see you hurt.” You matter more to me than you could ever know.

“Better me than you.” 

Illuga uses his free hand to card his fingers through Lohen’s tangled hair. Lohen leans into the touch. “Don’t—don’t say stuff like that.”

“I know. But still.” Still. Still. You still think you’re weak. You still hate yourself for being as such. You still blame yourself for Adorno’s death the same way I blame myself for the death of my comrades. 

“Your life is worth just as much as mine.”

Lohen’s fingers loosen, despondent. “I don’t know if I can believe you.”

And it is here that Illuga knows that he won’t be able to get to him. The same way they’ll never have the same philosophy, some things are just etched too deep. “Okay,” Illuga murmurs. “Then… can you at least promise me something?”

“That depends on what it is.”

“I think you’ll be amiable to it,” Illuga prepares.

 “...No matter what happens. Promise me that you’ll always come home. Because even if you think that you’re weak, come back.” A pause. “Promise me that you’ll extend yourself the same kindness that you always do to me. Even if you don’t think you deserve it.”

Lohen swallows. “Only if you do the same,” he says back.

“If it's you,” Illuga squeezes their locked hands, “then I’ll do anything.” 

“Okay,” Lohen says, raw and painfully genuine. “I’ll try.”

—

The deaconess checks up on Lohen and redresses his bandages when Illuga had made the quick trip to rent a hotel room in Mondstadt. She does not notice the presence of someone who had previously been there. 

He is not allowed to return to field work until two weeks later. Both Illuga and Lohen know he’s going to completely ignore that (although Illuga will certainly try to dissuade him from injuring himself further). 

After coming back, Illuga continues to stay at Lohen’s bedside, chatting about mundane things, including the entire soulmate debacle that Lohen had subjected all of his coworkers to. Illuga had let out a lot of incredulous laughter at that, because the letters certainly didn’t have the same amount of detail Lohen was giving out now, and it seemed that he did miss quite a lot.

Eventually, when things settle down, and Illuga is ready to return to his hotel room—

“Uh, wait.” Lohen reaches out. “Stay?” He asks, hopefully, gesturing to an empty spot on his bed. He acts almost bashful, pleading, hoping to get Illuga to agree. But that detail hardly matters, because Illuga has always been weak for Lohen, and would’ve agreed either way. Even after the second time he’s asked this in the span of only a few hours. The sharing-a-bed-while-being-critically-injured part does concern him, though.

“Are you sure?” Illuga asks, pointing to Lohen’s whole… dilemma. “Your wounds,” he finishes. 

“It’s fine,” Lohen reassures. “That didn’t stop you in Nod-Krai.”

“It did, actually. I didn’t do this when you immediately woke up from fighting Rerir.”

“The other times,” Lohen waves him off.

“Those situations are hardly comparable.” Illuga deadpans. 

“Yes they are.”

“Name one time. Also, that only happened because you kept on breaking into my house after running off from Favonius Keep, which I could hardly do anything about.”

“...Please?” 

Illuga huffs, but his heart certainly doesn’t match that sentiment. “Fine,” he says, folding, his shoulders loosening. 

Stripping off his coat and hanging it on the back of the chair, then taking off his boots and leaving them by the bed, Illuga tentatively climbs in. The bed creaks a little as he gets in, mattress dipping to accommodate his weight. 

He shuffles a bit until he’s comfortable, side-by-side with Lohen, but his touch is cautious, hesitant. 

“For archon’s sake,” Lohen grumbles, before attempting to move himself closer to Illuga. Unfortunately, he only manages to support himself up a few inches for a few seconds with his good arm, and even that trembles, before he goes limp and flops back down on the bed. Kind of like a rabbit that hasn’t yet learned how to hop. 

“Shut up.” Lohen says, hot with embarrassment. 

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking it.”

“About what? That this isn't a good idea?”

“Yes,” Lohen affirms. Then, as an afterthought: “Also, the idea is fine. Stop being so stubborn.” 

“You can barely move,” Illuga says back, exasperated. 

“So?”

“So asking me of this would do you more harm than good.”

“Just come closer,” Lohen whines, petulant. “We haven’t seen each other in months.”

“I’m sure you can wait at least a few more days until you can actually move without pain before you ask me to cuddle you again.”

“Pain rarely ever bothers me.”

“Doesn’t mean it shouldn’t.”

“But it doesn’t, so it’s okay, right?” Lohen tries. 

“Tell that to the deaconess. I don’t think she or Varka would agree with you at all on that.”

Lohen seems at a loss, ready to give up, and Illuga mentally begins to savor his win at actually getting Lohen to not be self-destructive every other waking moment, before Lohen opens his mouth again and ruins it all. “...I’ll pull my stitches if you don’t do it.”

Illuga’s eyes widen in disbelief. “You wouldn’t.” He absolutely would. 

Lohen smirks. “Try me.” 

And with that, he’s won. 

“...I hate you,” Illuga says, before moving to have Lohen press up against his side. Lohen’s head rests on his chest, body in between the crook of Illuga’s shoulder. 

“No, you don’t,” Lohen counters, a triumphant grin on his face, before hooking his pinkie with Illuga’s. 

Yeah, Illuga thinks, their pinkies intertwined in a promise, touch making their soulmarks burn with fervor, watching the steady rise and fall of Lohen’s chest as he settles down into sleep. I don’t. 

—

“Amber, Jean,” Kaeya greets, having found the both of them hovering in front of the entrance to the church. He notes the card in Jean’s hands and a stuffed rabbit in Amber’s. Kaeya observes the objects casually. “Visiting someone?” He asks.

“Hello, Kaeya,” Jean addresses back. Amber gives him a wave. “The Vice Captain. Barbara informed me that he was awake, so I thought I’d take the liberty to check up on him and thank him for handling the gates, that day. The card is from the Fifth Company, wishing him well.” 

“Ah,” Kaeya nods. “Kind of them to do that.”

“Yeah,” Amber jumps in. “I thought I’d give him my well wishes, too.” She sounds a little sad, for some reason, like there’s something about Lohen that’s weighing heavily on her. That’s when Kaeya remembers that Amber was the one who brought Lohen to be healed. But still. How could that warrant sadness, since she saved him? Kaeya chooses not to dwell on that. Maybe something else happened. 

“Would you like to join us?” Jean asks, just as a formality. 

Kaeya hesitates. He’d call him and Lohen friends, since they’re pretty similar people. They talk relatively often. Lohen probably still isn’t mad about the letter incident, since both of them were engaging in less-than-ethical endeavors during that time. “Sure,” he accepts, walking towards the church doors. 

Jean quickly locates Lohen’s room, and the three of them congregate outside of it. Jean opens the door, but not before knocking (even though there is no response), looks inside—

—then backs away and shuts the door again. “Oh,” she says, hand still on the doorknob. She looks embarrassed, flushed, almost. 

“What?” Amber asks, obviously confused at why Jean closed the door again. 

“Uh, maybe we should come back at another time,” Jean suggests. She starts to back away. 

Kaeya’s eyebrows furrow. “What could possibly warrant that?” He reaches towards the door, opening it again. He peers inside. 

“Ah,” he understands. Then, an evil smile spreads across his lips. “So this is the soulmate he’s been hiding from us this whole time.” 

“What!?” Amber cries, hands flying to her head. The plushie falls to the ground, bouncing as it settles down. She pushes past Jean and Kaeya to walk into the room. “What?!” she says yet again, but in a half-whisper this time, as to not disturb the sleeping occupants in the room. Lohen’s soulmate's shirt rides up in the place of his soulmark, and it glows rather luminously. 

“Didn’t think this is how we’d find out,” Kaeya agrees, with a shrug.

“Ahem,” Jean coughs into her hand. “As sweet as that is, we should probably give them their privacy.”

Amber comes back to herself. “Right. Yeah,” but her eyes are still fixated on them, the grey hair of Lohen’s soulmate, his sharp red earring handing off one of his ears. The way Lohen is pressed up to him. Their interlocked pinkies. “They’re so cute,” she mumbles. 

“They’re soulmates,” Kaeya explains. 

“I know that, obviously.” 

“Guys,” Jean says again, more nervous, when Lohen’s soulmate imperceptibly shifts under the covers, sinking him and Lohen further into the bed. 

Kaeya lets out a chuckle. “The Acting Grand Master is right. We should leave them.” 

Of course, it’s not like Kaeya’s letting this go, though. He’ll make sure to use this information properly in the future. He’s learned a lot. But just for now, he’ll let them have their peace. Lohen is injured, after all. And, well. It’s hard to deny. They do appear to be quite well-suited for one another.  

“Alright, alright,” Amber picks up the plushie and takes the card from Jean’s hand when she retreats from the room. “Wait,” she states, before rushing back in, quietly, of course, and placing the card and stuffed animal on the table. 

Just to make their presence known.

—

Lohen listens to three sets of steps retreat from his room. He leans further into Illuga’s touch, before sighing in contentment.

The word soulmates, Lohen believes, has never been more well-fitted to them.