Chapter Text
The first living creature ever felled by his hands was a rabbit.
He was eleven years old then. It had been on the very first nighttime excursion he had ever taken, sneaking out of his bedroom window and into the quiet woods behind his childhood home, guided by nothing but the wind and moonlight.
He had been practicing in secret for several months, whenever he could slip away from his parents’ ever-watchful gaze. Ever since he had successfully fired an arrow for the first time, something he had to teach himself based only on what he observed on that fateful day when his wrists were bound and he was placed in a cell, he had been obsessed. His aim steadily improved until he was no longer satisfied with hitting stationary targets.
It was never fear that kept him from venturing out on his own in the dead of night, only skill. Once he realized he could improve only by challenging himself, he couldn’t be stopped. He went out that very night, armed with a shortbow he had crafted himself and a carving knife he had found while playing in the woods. He had kept the knife hidden in his bedroom; his parents would have taken it from him if they had found out.
He used two arrows to take down the rabbit: the first to startle it, the second to kill it. He didn’t once pause to consider what he was doing; he let his arrow fly without thought, entirely fixated on the idea of hitting a moving target. No force in the world could have stopped him then.
His second arrow struck true, and just like that, a life was snuffed out by his hands.
He stared down at its unmoving body for a long while, feeling none of the joy he had expected. He had accomplished his goal, yet he felt nothing but remorse. Only then did he realize, for the first time, that his actions could have consequences; he had made a selfish decision, and an innocent creature had died because of it.
He wasn’t satisfied at all. Rabbits are defenseless, weak prey. They do not fight back, do not seek to harm him, and are only capable of fleeing. He gained nothing from killing it. He left the dead rabbit where it lay, feeling a pang of sorrow. At least some lucky wolf will get a nice, free meal, he reasoned.
The only things he brought home that night were the memory and a newfound resolve.
About a week later, he would head out once more under the cover of darkness and kill his first monster. This stirred his heart in a way he knew hunting prey never would; from then on, he would be interested only in hunting fellow predators. He would kill them before they could kill him, and he would grow stronger with each victory. He would survive each battle by any means necessary.
Only by doing this will he ensure he is never made to be the rabbit again.
Now, ten years later and far from home, Lohen discovers that Nod-Krai is practically a paradise for someone like him.
This unfortunate land is overrun by monsters known as the Wild Hunt, Abyssal something-or-others that seek to destroy any life that crosses their paths. Some are more human-like, screaming and writhing in pain when run through with his spear, while others are more beast-like, wild and unpredictable, fighting tooth and nail until the moment of their demise.
They are far more satisfying to fight than the run-of-the-mill monsters back in Mondstadt. Even ruin guards, strong as they are, are still just machines. They don’t bleed, and though they screech in their own mechanical way, it’s a far cry from the trill of fighting something made of flesh and bone, just as he is. Back then, Lohen would spend hours on end tormenting unfeeling machines, using their glowing eyes as target practice. But here in Nod-Krai, he will gleefully spend an entire night slashing, stabbing, and ripping the Wild Hunt to shreds.
The other knights occasionally dare to accuse him of being excessive, to which he replies that he can just as easily practice his knifework on their soft, fragile human bodies. That always shuts them up real fast. Besides, whether excessive or not, he’s still accomplishing exactly what he came here to do: eliminate the threat posed by the Wild Hunt.
The moon is high in the sky as he patrols one of his favorite hunting grounds, the area west of Favonius Keep and just south of that ominous zone Varka has explicitly forbidden him from setting foot in. Lohen has reluctantly honored his promise not to venture into that dark haze, because for him, there is no such thing as solitary confinement in Nod-Krai, only a one-way trip back to Mondstadt should he be caught misbehaving.
He arrived later than usual, having been held up at the Keep over paperwork, of all things, and now he’s paying the price for it: tonight, someone has beaten him to the punch. The area is seemingly devoid of life, save for a flock of Lightkeepers passing through who have apparently taken it upon themselves to do his job for him. Damn them.
In all the months he’s been in Nod-Krai, he’s never interacted with any Lightkeepers, never openly paying them any mind when they briefly cross paths. It’s hardly out of the ordinary for him; he only interacts with his own subordinates as strictly necessary. From what he’s observed, the Ratniki are just a scared, miserable, boring bunch of volunteer soldiers too weak to defend their homeland without the aid of a foreign military.
Yet something about this flock passing through his territory catches his eye: one lamb walks alone, far ahead of the others. He carries himself with pride, much as a leader would. Lohen recalls that such a person within the Lightkeepers is titled ‘captain’.
Captain. One of Lohen’s least favorite words. His mood sours further.
Even Lohen knows the Lightkeepers are very particular about always being buddy-buddy with each other when out on patrol. He has never once seen a lone Ratnik. He feels as if he’s just spotted an exotic animal, and his curiosity is piqued, wondering what has made this lamb stray so far from safety. Is it confidence or arrogance, and does he have the skills to back either up?
From his cliffside vantage point, Lohen spots a Wilderness Hunter rapidly approaching the lone lamb, axe poised and ready to swing. Lohen doesn’t immediately move to intercept it, eager to see how the lamb will respond to a Hunter.
Lohen watches it unfold in slow motion: the lamb spots the beast at the last moment, realizes his predicament, and accepts his fate. It’s the most disappointing outcome by far; it’s neither confidence nor arrogance. Instead, the lamb is either stupid or doing what lambs do best: being sacrificial.
As a matter of principle – yes, he does indeed have those – he won’t ever just stand by and watch someone get slaughtered. He quickly intervenes, striking the Hunter with a Cryo-infused arrow, slowing it just enough to give him time to descend the cliff and drive his spear into its back. He uses his Cryo once more to burst the creature open from the inside, popping it like a balloon, and its black blood rains down around them.
The lamb turns toward him, a glowing golden bird flying out of his oddly shaped lantern. Lohen tracks its quick movements as it circles them, the Abyssal contamination disappearing beneath its light. It’s a nifty little trick, one that he’s never seen before.
But as curious as that was, he’s far more intrigued by the Lightkeeper before him, specifically by his two-colored eyes. The blue is a perfect match for the clear skies of Mondstadt, while the red is identical to freshly spilled blood; two of Lohen’s favorite things in the world.
How interesting.
The guy starts speaking, but Lohen isn’t listening, looking him up and down. He is much more attractive from the front, his bulky coat open to reveal the shape of his lean body and his, frankly, bizarre attire. Just what are those straps? How did he get holes in his sweater there? They don’t look new, so does he not own an intact shirt? All that aside, he’s still rather cute.
But more than anything, Lohen’s eyes are immediately drawn to the Geo Vision at his hip.
How very interesting.
“I saved your life,” Lohen interrupts.
The guy’s forced smile wavers, but he presses on. “Ah, yes, you did, and I –”
Yet Lohen doesn’t really care what he has to say. “Even though you stole my fight.”
“– Am grateful beyond – huh?” Pretty eyes blink at him, brows furrowing in confusion.
Lohen narrows his eyes, clearly making him a bit nervous. “I saved your life even though you stole my fight,” he says plainly.
“I – I’m sorry?”
Lohen can’t help but grin and step closer, spurred on by the guy’s delicious fear. “Sorry enough to make it up to me?”
His fear gives way to something more weary. “Oh – um, I’m afraid I don’t have any Mora, but – hey!”
Wrong guess.
Lohen scoffs and rolls his eyes, lifting his spear so its deadly point is aimed directly at his throat. He steps back once, raising a hand in surrender and saying, “I don’t want to fight.”
Wrong again.
Lohen jabs his spear forward once, and the guy steps back again. It seems Lohen will have to spell it out for him. “That’s too bad, because that’s exactly what I want.”
After a few beats, he asks, “Why?”
“Your little group cleared out all the Wild Hunt in the area. What else am I supposed to do for fun?” Lohen answers easily.
To Lohen’s delight, those blue-red eyes darken, holding Lohen’s gaze with determination as all that confusion and fear finally give way to burning anger. Lohen steps forward again, pressing the tip of his spear closer and closer until it just kisses his skin.
“I refuse.”
You’re no lamb at all, are you?
How could Lohen not try to provoke him? “Oh? Are you scared, little bird?”
His offense is almost palpable. “Members of my squad need medical attention. I will see to it that every single one of them makes it back to Piramida. Their safety is my responsibility, and I won’t jeopardize that for your fun.”
Yes, a little golden bird is what you are.
Lohen hadn’t spared a second glance at the other Lightkeepers, too busy watching the pretty, seething bird now before him. So some of the flock got hurt, and the golden bird took it upon himself to scout ahead. He’s definitely not a lamb, but he is still sacrificial when his wounded comrades are behind him.
How very interesting.
Lohen laughs once, a bit impressed by his rapid shift from apprehension to fierce protectiveness. “So you can fight back after all! Seems like you aren’t as hopeless as I first thought.”
Those fiery eyes glare at him, and Lohen smiles in return. “I appreciate what you did for me, but I have had enough fighting for one night.”
“So, next time, then?” Lohen asks, actually meaning it. He’s very curious about what this fellow Vision holder can do.
The bird waves him off and turns away, saying, “Sure, fine.”
“I’m looking forward to it!” Lohen calls after him as he walks away. Then, with one final provocation, “See you around, Birdie!”
Lohen lets the flock of Lightkeepers go without further hassle; he’s not so bloodthirsty as to prevent someone injured from receiving medical treatment. If Birdie feels so strongly compelled to escort them back to safety even at the risk of his own life, then who is Lohen to stop him?
He continues his patrol of the area, which has indeed been cleared of all traces of the Wild Hunt. He’s far less upset by tonight’s outcome than he expected to be. After all, it’s not every day that Lohen meets someone so intriguing.
Slash, stab, rip to shreds. Fight, win, survive. Slice, dismember, break into pieces. Fight, win, survive. Pierce, maim, rend flesh from bone. Fight, win, survive.
One after another, Wild Hunt abominations fall at his hand.
Destroy, eviscerate, leave none standing.
Again and again, over and over, kill after kill. Fight! Win! Survive! Fight! Win! Survive!
This is what he lives for: the ecstasy of taking their lives before they can take his.
Only a couple of Exiles remain when, out of absolutely nowhere, a human body throws himself between Lohen and his next target, parrying the Exile’s attack. Golden light briefly stuns the creatures, and the person before him calls out, “Go! Get out of here! A squad of Lightkeepers is just west of here! They’ll keep you safe!”
Lohen instantly recognizes that unflattering brown coat. Well, isn’t it his lucky day?
“Not a chance, Birdie.”
He’s not about to let this Lightkeeper steal any more kills from him. He got a pass last time by providing Lohen with a bit of entertainment and being easy on the eyes, but Lohen’s generosity only goes so far.
Lohen darts out from behind Birdie’s back, plunging his Cryo-infused dagger into the Exile’s neck. He sends his Cryo bursting out from within the Exile, and it dies instantly, silently. Hardly satisfying.
The last remaining Exile clumsily swipes at Birdie, who dodges and sends it careening forward with his polearm. Before Birdie can kill it himself, Lohen throws the Exile to the ground and lands on top of it. He stabs it over and over, savoring its screams as its flesh easily gives way under his blade. He stabs it until there’s nowhere left to stab, the undead body rapidly coming apart until it's nothing but a puddle of Abyssal black ooze he’s left kneeling in. Very satisfying.
Lohen stands, grinning, and faces Birdie, who looks as if he’s just seen a ghost, which he has, in a manner of speaking. Yet it’s obvious to anyone with eyes that it’s not the Wild Hunt that has him spooked, but Lohen himself. And that’s the most satisfying of all.
“See?” Lohen says, feeling oh-so-pleased with himself. “Wasn’t that just so much fun?”
In an instant, his apprehension gives way to anger once more. “No,” Birdie snaps at him. “You could have easily died. Fighting the Wild Hunt alone like that is beyond reckless. How many were there before I arrived?”
Lohen almost swoons at this stranger’s concern for him. Almost. Wholly unnecessary as it is.
He makes a deliberate show of counting on his fingers just to watch blue eyes narrow in suspicion. Finally, he shrugs, estimating, “About a dozen, give or take.”
“A dozen!? By yourself?”
Birdie just makes it so easy. “No need to worry your pretty head,” Lohen teases, reaching out a hand to pat soft-looking silver hair, but it’s swatted away. “I’ve got plenty of stamina left for you, so for your sake, I hope you’ve come prepared.”
Birdie pales. “Pardon?”
Lohen gasps, bemoaning, “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten! You’ll break my little heart, Birdie!” But Birdie doesn’t respond, and Lohen sighs. How tragic. Has Birdie forgotten him after just a few weeks? Lohen certainly hasn’t. “You,” he says, seriously. He lifts Birdie’s chin with the flat edge of his dagger, forcing their gazes to meet. “Owe me a fight.”
Lohen can see Birdie’s mind working, trying to figure his way out of this. “I didn’t promise you that,” is what he goes with.
“Oh, but you did,” Lohen goads, wondering how far he can push the matter.
“Then I lied,” he states plainly, not making any excuses. While Lohen considers himself extremely proficient at spotting a lie, he’s always appreciated some good old honesty.
“Ha! Didn’t expect you to admit it. Honesty is one of the three knightly virtues, you know.” Has Varka met this guy yet? The Grand Master would try to recruit him in a heartbeat.
Birdie scoffs, rather rudely. “Knightly virtues? What would you know about those?”
Lohen ignores the jab, impressed by how casually Birdie insults him to his face even as Lohen’s blade still rests at his throat. Besides, being called unknightly is hardly an insult when Lohen can admit it’s often more accurate than not.
It seems it’s time to introduce himself. “Ah, where are my manners? It’s courteous to give your name to the handsome, selfless hero who courageously risked his life against the Wild Hunt just to save yours.” He fixes Birdie with a pointed look, then withdraws his dagger from Birdie’s throat, steps back, and bows slightly, one hand over his heart. It’s far from proper, with his dagger hidden behind his back and his refusal to break eye contact for even a second, but Lohen couldn’t care less. “Lohen Imunlaukr, Knight of Favonius, at your service.”
Birdie’s face scrunches up just a bit, unimpressed. Lohen holds his pose, his grin never faltering, even as Birdie mutters, “Never met a knight so fond of holding others at knifepoint.”
He wonders how many knights this guy has met and who. It’s hard to tell, since Lohen currently looks like he just rolled around in Abyssal contamination for fun, but he does wear a knight’s attire. He was in uniform the first time they met, too. Is he really so unobservant as to have missed that? No wonder a Wilderness Hunter snuck up on him.
Eventually, Birdie offers his name in return, “Illuga.”
“Illuga,” Lohen says, then again, really testing out each syllable on his tongue. A pretty name for a pretty bird, he decides. Since he actually does know how to be a knight and a gentleman, he usually just chooses not to be, he quickly snatches up Birdie’s – Illuga’s – hand and gently kisses it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Illuga,” he purrs, his lips pressed against the back of Illuga’s gloved hand, then releases it.
Almost as if he had forgotten until now, Illuga finally brings out his golden bird from his lantern, and it clears them both of Abyssal contamination. “Wait, is that…” Now free of that black filth, Lohen immediately spots two fresh cuts marring Illuga’s cheek. “You really did take a hit for me.”
Illuga got himself hurt on Lohen’s behalf. Half of him is a bit touched, because when was the last time someone did that for him? But the other half of him is ready to call Illuga a moron because Lohen has never wanted nor needed protection from anyone. He decides to say nothing instead.
Illuga touches one of the cuts and winces. Moron.
“It’s hardly anything,” Illuga says, sounding as if he means it. Given the massive scar peeking out from his sweater’s collar and running toward his shoulder, this new injury is minuscule in comparison. Still, those cuts don’t sit right with Lohen at all. Illuga continues, saying, “Since I got injured on your behalf, I guess we’ll just have to postpone that fight. What a shame.”
Lohen’s eyebrows shoot up. Lohen may appreciate honesty, but he respects ingenuity, even at his own expense. He concedes to Illuga. “A damn shame.”
But Illuga keeps running with it, rambling, “Well, since the fight’s off the table, and there doesn’t seem to be any more Wild Hunt lingering around, it’s about time I reunite with my squad. They shouldn’t be too far, but I’m sure they’re –”
“Illuga,” Lohen interrupts. “Let me see.”
Lohen steps close to Illuga, grabbing Illuga’s chin and turning his head, much to Illuga’s displeasure. “Eh? Hey! Have you considered just asking instead of going straight to manhandling!?” Lohen studies the two cuts as Illuga grumbles, “‘Knightly virtues’ my ass…”
“How about you make me stop? I bet you’re strong enough.” Fight me, Illuga. Then Lohen leans in to whisper in Illuga’s ear, “Since you haven’t, I’ve had no choice but to assume you like the manhandling. But by all means, correct me if I’m wrong.” I’ll get a fight out of you eventually.
Just to really send his point home, his tongue darts out, licking one of the cuts, tasting Illuga’s blood. He enjoys the way Illuga nearly jumps out of his skin.
“Ugh! Enough!” Illuga shouts as Lohen steps away from him, smiling all the while. Illuga stares at him in complete, comical disbelief.
Lohen waits patiently for Illuga to compose himself, but unfortunately, it’s the distant voices that finally snap Illuga back to his senses. “Sounds like my squad. I should…” Illuga trails off, gesturing behind him.
Lohen nods, accepting that this second chance encounter is over. “Thanks for saving me, Birdie. Until next time.”
Illuga runs off to regroup with his little flock. Lohen makes his way back to his campsite, pleased with the outcome of tonight’s events.
He spends the rest of the night thinking about Illuga, the little golden bird Lightkeeper. Lohen doesn’t know him well yet, but he does know this: Lohen likes having fun, and Illuga is a lot of fun. Thus, he reaches an important conclusion.
He likes Illuga.
Perhaps more manhandling will be in order the next time they meet.
In an ironic sort of way, Nod-Krai offers Lohen more freedom than Mondstadt ever did.
He hardly needs to return to Favonius Keep, hardly has any direct oversight, and hardly has any responsibilities beyond slaughtering enemies, which he considers more of a passion than an occupation, really. He also hardly has to do any paperwork, but that’s mostly because he and Varka share a mutual hatred for it; both of them belong on the battlefield, not at the desk. If Varka makes Lohen sit down and complete his reports, Lohen will retaliate by relentlessly hounding Varka until he completes his own much larger stack of paperwork, so Varka generally doesn’t push the matter.
Such is the life of a ‘Frontline Suppression Officer’, Lohen’s newly acquired title for this expedition that Varka had absolutely pulled out of his ass. But since his title of vice captain has, somewhat unfortunately, followed him to Nod-Krai, Lohen does have a responsibility to those technically under his command, with the actual captain of the Fifth Company both mostly retired and halfway across the continent.
Thus, he makes an effort to check in on them every once in a while, to make sure they’re all still kicking, for one, and also to ensure they’re keeping up with their training. The performance of the Fifth Company's knights reflects on him, after all, and he will not allow mediocrity, not from himself and not from his subordinates. Naturally, whenever he checks in, it’s always a surprise.
This time, he crept into the Keep unnoticed, under the cover of night. He woke three of his knights with his dagger at their throats – if he could kill them that easily, their enemies could, too – and dragged them out of bed for target practice. The Wild Hunt abominations are particularly abundant tonight, with a sizable group appearing not too far from base.
It’s a fun game they play – fun for Lohen, anyway. He keeps the monsters focused on him while his knights eliminate them from a distance. The worse their shooting is and the longer it takes them to make a kill, the closer Lohen brings the monsters to his knights, ever threatening to let the beasts loose on them. Lohen has found the steadily increasing risk of dismemberment and disemboweling to be a fantastic motivator for his knights; it even keeps them motivated to continue training in his absence.
They do a fine enough job tonight, successfully eliminating all the Wild Hunt, no severe bodily harm required. Lohen is about to send the three of them on their way when a sudden, bright golden light flashes in his face. It blinds him momentarily, and Lohen immediately lashes out with his dagger, swiping at whatever caused it, but he misses.
When his vision returns to him, with some effort, he’s able to focus on the source of the light: a small, golden bird rapidly circling him. Lohen tries to stab it again but misses once more. It squawks at him, diving at him repeatedly, each time grabbing his clothing or hair and pulling, always in the same direction, as if it has a goal in mind.
He belatedly recognizes the bird as the one Illuga carries in his lantern…
Illuga!
“Where is he?” Lohen demands of the bird, hoping it can understand him. It chirps as if in recognition, ensuring Lohen is fully focused on it before darting toward the western shore, beckoning him to follow.
His subordinates, who have been standing around, watching him as he is accosted by a glowing bird for minutes on end, visibly flinch as he levels his iciest glare at them. “The three of you, come with me.” His tone leaves no room for argument.
Lohen takes off after the bird, his knights close on his heels, skidding to a stop at the cliff's edge, quickly analyzing the scene before him. There have to be at least two dozen Wild Hunt abominations, all focused on a single target at the center of the swarm: Illuga. Alone.
He addresses his knights once more, growling, “Keep that Lightkeeper safe by any means necessary, or it won’t just be the Wild Hunt haunting your dreams at night.”
Lohen leaps from the cliff, plunging down onto a Wilderness Hunter’s back and running it through with his polearm. One enemy after another, he fights his way to Illuga, leaving a trail of corpses in his wake.
“You saved some for me! How thoughtful,” Lohen calls out to Illuga, breaking into the inner circle. Illuga still stands, his bird circling protectively around him, holding his own exceptionally well. Even at a glance, Lohen can see that Illuga is stunning in battle, completely fearless, each of his strikes well-planned and deliberate.
Lohen laughs, exhilarated to be fighting alongside him. “Alright, Birdie, time for you to show me what you can really do!”
And oh, does he ever. So much so that he becomes a bit of a distraction, and Lohen takes a hard whack to the head because of it. It refocuses him more than anything. Still, Lohen feels he can hardly be blamed for this; Illuga is absolutely gorgeous, covered head to toe in Wild Hunt guts, eyes alight with fiery hatred and fierce determination, killing one enemy after another.
Lohen can’t help it; some sort of feelings stir within him, making him uneasy. He hasn’t been this attracted to anyone since…
When the last monster is eliminated, Illuga’s bird clears both of them of Abyssal filth. Illuga speaks to it, saying, “Please, go let the others know I’m fine, and… let me know if they all made it to camp alive.”
Lohen then realizes exactly what’s going on and finds the context he hadn’t had a chance to see. Illuga wasn’t suddenly ambushed by a Wild Hunt horde while alone. No, Illuga sent everyone else away, sacrificing himself for their sake. Again.
Unbidden frustration wells up within him, though he doesn’t really understand where it comes from, just – what the fuck was Illuga thinking? Someone gets injured, and suddenly he develops a death wish? Pathetic.
Maybe the golden bird isn’t as flawlessly golden as he appears.
He’s distantly aware that Illuga has left the battlefield and is speaking to the knights, but Lohen can’t be bothered to listen in, too absorbed in his own thoughts and in his complicated, nearly overwhelming emotions. Lohen has always felt things deeply and intensely, and this is no exception.
Lohen wants to shake some sense into Illuga, because he seriously couldn’t have come up with any better idea than fighting entirely alone? Strong and capable as Illuga may be, that was never a battle he could win. He wants to hit Illuga, to make him pay for causing Lohen to experience these feelings again after so long. He wants Illuga to hit him, to knock these damn feelings out of him, because he despises feeling this way.
He feels like a rabbit again, frightened, weak, helpless, and ready to bolt at the first sign of danger. But he won’t, not this time.
This time, the rabbit isn’t facing down a wolf, just a little bird who isn’t as perfect as he’s trying to appear.
This time, the rabbit will get what he wants.
Lohen doesn’t look up as Illuga approaches, stopping a short distance away. “Fight me,” he demands, getting straight to the point.
“No, Lohen, I’m not going to fight you. I just wanted to thank you once again.”
He plunges his spear into the belly of a fallen Exile and twists, imagining how much more satisfying it would be if they bled crimson rather than black. “You can thank me by fighting me.”
Illuga says exactly what Lohen expects. “Perhaps you didn’t see, but several of my squadmates nearly died tonight. You already got the fight you wanted, so stop asking me. It’s not going to happen.”
Lohen plants a foot on the Exile’s chest and yanks his spear free, flinging dark entrails about and watching black ooze drip from the spearpoint. “You misunderstand,” he says calmly, despite feeling anything but, “I want to fight you because you’re a hypocrite.”
Lohen appreciates honesty, respects ingenuity, admires fellow liars, but hates hypocrites. After all, it takes one to know one.
“Excuse me?”
Lohen snorts, recalling how Illuga berated him the last time they met. “‘You could have easily died! Fighting the Wild Hunt alone like that is beyond reckless!’ Imagine my surprise at finding you doing the exact same thing.”
“That’s – that’s different, and you know it!”
Lohen turns to face him, drinking in Illuga’s look of offense. “Is that so? Only the heroic and righteous Lightkeeper Illuga gets to fight the Wild Hunt alone?”
“I risked my life to save my comrades; as squad leader, their safety will always be paramount. I was not being reckless,” Illuga growls, visibly tensing for a fight. Good.
“Is that what you need to tell yourself to sleep at night? ‘It doesn’t matter if I throw my life away as long as they get to live’?” You’re such a damn fool, Illuga.
Illuga raises his voice in protest. “The only thing I want is to protect them! If that means sacrificing my life, so be it. Besides, I’m not the one who treats the Wild Hunt like a game.”
“I like fighting the Wild Hunt, so what? At the end of the day, we’re accomplishing the same thing: fewer monsters lurking around means more lives saved.”
“No one becomes a Lightkeeper for the fun of it. We do it to keep our home safe, and we don’t do it alone.” Lohen has fought alone his entire life, slaying countless enemies, human and otherwise, with no one by his side. They couldn’t be more different in that respect. But Illuga doesn’t know him and has no idea why Lohen does what he does; Illuga couldn’t hope to understand.
“Right,” Lohen drawls sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “You weren’t alone after you sent your entire squad away; you had your little bird with you. My mistake.”
“And what about you? I spoke to some of your subordinates for only five minutes, and the mere thought of you had them running for the hills.”
Lohen smirks at his silly argument. “You mean running back to Favonius Keep, where they’ll be safe. Say, do you think they’ll bump into your squad on the way?” Lohen throws his weapon down and gestures to the battlefield around them. “No matter how you look at it, we’re the only ones left out here, by our own volition.” Both of them sent their subordinates away, but Lohen’s at least stayed until the fighting was over.
“It’s different,” Illuga still protests, but Lohen can hear doubt creeping in.
“Sure, I’ll agree that your intentions are nobler than mine. But I bet you’re selfish, deep, deep down. In everything you do, some small part of you does it only because you like to suffer.”
You think you’re so damn good, don’t you? You can’t fool me, Illuga; you’re not as selfless as you believe.
“That’s not true.” His voice is nearly failing him, and Lohen knows he’s going to win.
“Prove it, then. Fight me, and I’ll believe you.” He goes in for the kill, closing the distance between them. “I can see how worked up you are. It’s not healthy to keep all that restless energy pent up forever,” he taunts, spreading his arms wide and closing his eyes. “I’ll even let you land the first hit.”
But Illuga doesn’t respond to that, instead saying, “You’re bleeding.”
“Am I? I didn’t notice.” It’s a lie; he can feel the blood dripping down his face, mocking him for letting himself be distracted by a pretty boy. He tilts his head, sticking his tongue out the corner of his mouth to lap at his own blood.
“Disgusting,” Illuga mutters, looking like he actually means it.
“You say that, but I bet we’re far more alike than you think.” A thrill runs through him then. If his words aren’t enough to make Illuga give in to him, maybe this will be. Lohen swipes two fingers through his blood, gathering a generous amount on them. He can’t help the wicked smile that splits his face.
“You don’t – umph!”
Mid-sentence, Lohen shoves his two bloody fingers into Illuga’s mouth, pressing down on Illuga’s tongue to really make sure he can’t escape the taste of him. Illuga’s expression shifts to shock and horror as he gags, and it’s such a good look on him.
Lohen pulls his fingers out before Illuga can push him away, and Illuga doubles over, hands on his knees, spitting Lohen’s blood into the sand.
Lohen laughs, feeling a sick sense of joy and vindication. Some golden bird you are.
And then Illuga’s fist slams into Lohen’s jaw, Illuga moving far faster than Lohen would have expected and actually catching him off guard. Lohen stumbles back a few steps but recovers easily. He punches Illuga in turn, trading some of his superior speed for more force and making contact with Illuga’s cheek.
Illuga is momentarily dazed, and Lohen takes the chance to kick sand into Illuga’s face. Illuga doubles over again, coughing.
Even though Illuga is very attractive, Lohen won’t go easy on him. He’ll do whatever it takes to win, just as he always has and always will.
He feels no shame as he kicks Illuga in the stomach or as Illuga collapses to his knees. Illuga looks up at him, eyes watering, and Lohen has a sudden, visceral need to make those tears run down his pretty face. He reaches down, grabs a fistful of Illuga’s silvery hair, and pulls Illuga back to his feet, relishing his cries of pain.
Illuga’s tears spill over, and oh, is he ever so enticing. His baby-blue eyes, brimming with tears, confusion, and despair, may be the most beautiful thing Lohen has ever seen. Lohen cradles Illuga’s head in his hands, brushing away those tears with his thumb, lamenting that he didn’t think to remove his gloves beforehand and wishing he could feel their wet heat.
Lohen knows he could end the fight here, and Illuga would likely let him, but Lohen is selfish to his core. “Oh, Birdie,” Lohen coos, brushing away more tears. “Surely that’s not all the fight you had in you. Come on, hit me again.”
Lohen is surprised once more as Illuga does, much harder than the first time. Lohen hears his nose break before he feels it, the delayed pain blooming across his entire face. He feels blood pour out as he gently feels around the break.
“Damn,” Lohen laughs, impressed. “You sure did deliver.”
That expression of shock and horror is back, and it spurs Lohen on.
They trade dozens of blows, with Illuga hitting Lohen as hard as he can, while Lohen keeps coming back for more and giving it as good as he gets. Lohen is faster than Illuga and eventually gets behind him, kicking at his legs to throw him off balance. Illuga flails as he topples over and, by some stroke of luck, grabs hold of Lohen’s choker, dragging Lohen to the ground with him.
They roll in the sand, clinging to each other even as they push each other away. For all his strength, for all the Wild Hunt abominations he’s surely slain, it’s clear Illuga’s expertise is limited to monsters. Lohen knows Illuga has never had to wrestle his life back from another human’s hands, something infinitely more cruel than any monster he’s ever faced.
When Lohen next ends up on top of Illuga, he pushes that ugly coat aside, exposing Illuga’s shoulder, and bites down, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh. Illuga cries out again, thrashing uselessly below him, until he finally grabs a fistful of Lohen’s hair and pulls him away. Lohen looks down at Illuga, captivated by the tears that are flowing once more and by a splatter of blood dripping from Lohen’s lips onto Illuga’s.
Illuga turns his head and tries to wiggle away, but Lohen won’t let him. He grabs Illuga’s throat, pressing into the bite wound at the same time and squeezing just so. Illuga’s eyes widen in panic, his lips part ever so slightly, and then –
Oh.
– Illuga makes a sound that can only be described as a desperate, needy whine.
They both still. The fight is over.
Lohen eases the pressure on the bite wound but keeps his grip on Illuga’s throat. Illuga doesn’t move, his face flushed red with embarrassment. Lohen is positioned between Illuga’s legs in such a way that he can tell Illuga is feeling more than that, too; they both are.
“What an unexpected surprise. You actually like this.” Illuga can claim otherwise as much as he likes, but Lohen knows Illuga’s guilty conscience led him to send his flock away, deliberately putting himself in harm's way. But he hadn’t anticipated that tendency would persist outside deadly combat.
Not so golden now, are you?
Illuga shakes his head in denial, and Lohen makes it his goal to prove to him how wrong he is.
Lohen pushes his hips down, grinding their hard cocks together through their pants. Illuga gasps, and Lohen does it again and again, making Illuga shudder. Lohen tightens his grip on Illuga’s throat just a bit more, thrusting against Illuga’s body.
“Ha –” Illuga moans, breathless, desperately clutching at Lohen’s shoulders.
Delicious pleasure sets his nerves alight just as much as Illuga’s enthusiastic yet uncertain responses. “Remember what I said, Birdie?” Lohen asks between movements, giving Illuga a single chance to back out. “Make me stop.”
As expected, Illuga doesn’t. He can see that Illuga needs the release just as much as, or maybe even more than, Lohen does. Illuga rocks his hips up to meet Lohen’s, and that sets Lohen’s nerves alight, too. He loves it when he’s right.
Lohen lowers himself a bit to pant into his ear, “Who would have imagined that the sweet and innocent Captain Illuga could be so indecent?”
“I didn’t want this,” is all Illuga responds with between his breathy little moans, much to Lohen’s great amusement.
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” Lohen assures him. Lohen isn’t embarrassed by his desires, and Illuga has no reason to be either. Not with him, at least. He steadily works his hand beneath Illuga’s sweater, finding a perky nipple. “If you need a bit of pain to get off, I’m happy to oblige.” Lohen pinches hard.
Illuga cries out and arches his back into Lohen’s touch, and Lohen pinches him again as a reward. He keeps thrusting his hips and twists Illuga’s nipple just a bit, delighting in the way Illuga’s face scrunches up in pain and pleasure. When Lohen bites into his shoulder again, Illuga finally breaks, violently trembling through his release with a broken sob.
Illuga may not be a perfectly golden bird after all, but he sure is perfect in his ecstasy. The way he clings to Lohen, begging for more, the sweet, pained sounds that leave his lips, and the way he surrenders total control to Lohen. What could possibly be better?
It only takes a few more hard thrusts for Lohen to reach his own peak, groaning in utter satisfaction, teeth still in Illuga’s flesh.
Once it’s over, Lohen releases Illuga from his hold but lets his full weight collapse onto him, pinning Illuga beneath him. He breathes into Illuga’s neck, their bodies pressed together.
Distantly, he finds this odd; he’s never been one for this kind of close contact with another, especially after sex. But he wants this warm, fuzzy feeling to linger a little longer, savoring his closeness to Illuga and the way his mind and body feel more at peace than they have in a very long time.
They stay there just like that, resting against one another for a while.
Lohen is pleasantly surprised that Illuga seems content to just lie there, making no move to get Lohen off him. But they can’t stay like this forever. Every minute makes the mess of blood and cum between them feel worse than the last.
Lohen isn’t ashamed of his actions, not at all, but he has enough sense to admit that rutting against Illuga like a horny teenager probably isn’t the best look for him. He doesn’t particularly care what others think of him, but this really isn’t the lasting impression he wants to leave on Illuga. Especially not if he wants even more from Illuga.
“Ah, fuck,” he mutters to himself, pulling away from Illuga’s body, realizing that Illuga’s repeated punches haven’t knocked these feelings out of him. But somehow, now that he’s a bit calmer, they aren’t as horrifying and debilitating as he remembers them being.
Even as he stretches his sore limbs and resets his broken nose, Illuga still doesn’t move, lying prone in the sand, staring up at the sky with a blank look in his eyes. Lohen hovers over Illuga’s face, blinking down at him, and asks, “Hey, you still here with me?”
Illuga mumbles a few words that definitely do not exist, entirely incoherent, and Lohen feels a bit concerned. Illuga is still really out of it. Between nearly losing a few of his comrades, the fight against the Wild Hunt, and Lohen’s bullshit, the poor little bird must be having a hell of a night.
Lohen pokes Illuga’s cheek but gets no response. He does it again, harder, and Illuga sluggishly swats his hand away, grumbling, “That hurts.” Finally, Illuga sits up, looking terribly confused, and slowly asks, “What were we fighting about, again?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Lohen says, because it really doesn’t. “How do you feel?”
“Fine,” he says after a few beats, not meaning it at all.
“That’s not a feeling, Birdie.”
“…Tired, then.” Illuga’s face scrunches up in that cute way it does as he looks down at his body, at the mess of his clothes. “Gross.”
Lohen stands and helps Illuga to his feet as well, watching as Illuga’s legs don’t seem to want to work just yet. Illuga would make for an easy target if Lohen were to leave him as he is now, and what sort of knight would he be if he allowed any danger to befall him? When Lohen is in a bad way, whether mind or body, there’s one thing that always snaps him back to himself.
“My personal camp is near here. It’s close to the water, so it’s a good place to clean up. You look like you need it,” Lohen offers.
Illuga doesn’t answer right away, instead collecting his lantern and polearm, stumbling along the way. There’s a sharp intake of breath, and he slumps where he stands. “No, I – I should get back. My squad…”
Lohen hurries over to him, standing before him, noting that Illuga looks paler than usual. “Will be just fine without you for a while longer. Use your brain, Birdie. You know they’re capable.”
“My brain feels like it’s on fire,” Illuga mumbles.
“Then the cold water will do you a load of good. Just a quick dip to rinse off. It’ll clear your head,” Lohen assures him. He briefly considers knocking Illuga out and carrying him there himself, but decides that’s really, really not the impression he wants to leave on Illuga. So he changes tactics, gesturing to Illuga’s filthy pants and saying, “I doubt you want to drag yourself into camp looking like you just got railed by a Wilderness Hunter.”
“Have you no shame?” Illuga chokes out, sounding like he’s already starting to perk back up.
Lohen smiles to himself. “None. Now follow me.”
Illuga does, following him along the shoreline as the sandy beach steadily gives way to a rocky cliffside. Lohen is, again, pleasantly surprised when Illuga asks why he stays all the way out here by himself. So Lohen indulges him a bit, explaining his unique situation and how he’s generally allowed to do as he pleases because all he wants to do is fight the Wild Hunt. That’s the short of it, anyway.
What he declines to mention is that it’s less about preferring to live alone out here and more about disliking living with the other knights. They’re loud, they’re annoying, they’re messy, and… there’s a handful of men there who make his skin crawl when they’re drunk, which is far too often. Lohen is well aware it’s an entirely one-sided issue, and one he’d rather avoid than confront. He holds no contempt for them, not really, but that doesn’t make a difference; all his contempt is reserved for himself.
Lohen has made a number of stupid decisions in his life, and unfortunately, several of them followed him all the way to Nod-Krai and now linger around Favonius Keep. He’s reminded again of why these feelings are such a damn problem, and he stomps those thoughts down before his mood can sour again.
Lohen could instead mention that camping in the wild is a lifestyle he knows well from his years as an adventurer, but they arrive before he gets the chance. Lohen darts in and out of his tent, quickly grabbing what he needs, handing some soap to Illuga, and stripping at the edge of the water. He leaves just enough on to preserve his modesty, partly for Illuga’s sake and partly because of the sticky mess there, anyway.
He steps into the freezing water, letting it wash over him, feeling the chill all the way to his bones. Being aligned with Cryo, he’s familiar with the cold, and it offers him a sense of safety, though it's not exactly comforting. Still, it’s refreshing in a way few things are.
Illuga is still hesitating when Lohen fixes him with an amused look, and he finally starts stripping. Lohen watches, enjoying the way Illuga becomes a bit flustered as his body is slowly revealed to Lohen’s eyes. Illuga hides a bit of musculature under that bulky coat, more than one might expect at first glance, along with many more scars. He has a sudden, intense urge to run his tongue over each and every one of them, tasting the long-healed injuries.
Lohen busies himself with scrubbing the blood and everything else off his body, and Illuga enters the water and does the same, without a word exchanged.
He looks over at Illuga just as Illuga looks back at him. Illuga is absolutely radiant in the moonlight, the way it illuminates his silvery hair and the red in his eyes. If Lohen didn’t know any better, he would wholeheartedly believe that Illuga was one of those irresistibly beautiful Snezhnayan fae creatures he’s heard stories about, the kind that prey on hapless men, having their wicked way with them before devouring them.
If he were ever so lucky as to choose the cause of his own demise, he’d choose that fate, so long as it were Illuga who consumed him.
…What the fuck is he thinking? These damn feelings – he can’t deal with them.
But maybe, just maybe, Illuga is having similar thoughts, judging from the way he stares back at him, his expression one of awe.
“Yes, Birdie?” Lohen asks, voice teasing. “Need something?”
“No,” Illuga mumbles and looks away, because of course he does.
They’re out of the water and drying off soon after. Lohen’s eyes can’t help but be drawn to the impressions of his teeth he left in Illuga’s skin, the damage clearer now that the blood has been washed away. As lovely as Illuga looks wearing his bite, he’d be remiss to send him on his way with an open wound like that.
He slips into his tent for a moment, throws on some clean, casual clothes, then returns to Illuga with bandages. “Let me,” he says, gesturing toward the wound.
Illuga seems to think it over before nodding, and Lohen gets to work. He makes it as quick and painless as possible for Illuga, suddenly afraid that Illuga might bolt – and worse, never come back – if Lohen pushes him any farther tonight.
After he’s finished, he offers, “You can stay for a while, if you need. If you’re hungry, I have –”
“No, but thank you,” Illuga quietly interrupts him, and Lohen lets it go.
They sit in silence, staring into the campfire. Before long, Illuga stands and redresses, while Lohen watches wordlessly.
“Thanks for coming to my rescue again,” Illuga says once he’s done.
“While that is actually my job as a knight, I’ll always be more than happy to fight for you. And against you.” He looks Illuga up and down, already missing his all-but-bare body. “Though that little bird of yours was very insistent that I head down to the shore. It was happenstance that I was with some of my company at the time.”
Illuga blinks at him. “You mean Aedon?”
“That’s what it’s called?” Illuga nods. For some reason, he didn’t expect it to have a name. “Aedon’s lucky I recognized him. Mistook him at first for another one of those weird animal-plant things you guys have around here.” Lohen scowls, still a bit irked that he had sort of lost a fight to a tiny bird in front of his subordinates, but he recovers quickly. “Anyway, the next time you’re planning on fighting a horde of Wild Hunt, or if you want to continue our spar, you now know where to find me.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Goodbye, Lohen.”
Lohen can’t help but smile at him, sincerely. “Good night, Illuga.”
Illuga leaves, and Lohen watches him go, his feelings fluttering in his chest in a way he hasn’t felt in so long. But right now, he isn’t sick with them; instead, he feels something hopeful.
He hopes he’s done enough to attract Illuga back to his modest nest sometime. He wants so much more than the brief taste of Illuga’s body he was allowed tonight, but he also wouldn’t mind just spending some more time with Illuga, too. Lohen is certain they have quite a lot in common.
It’s been years since he’s felt this way, not since he was a fresh-faced knight back in Mondstadt.
Everyone knows rabbits don’t belong with wolves. But a rabbit and a little bird… now, isn’t that a thought?