The great hall of Mondstadt’s Knights headquarters had long since filled with warm lamplight, clinking glassware, and the low murmur of officers celebrating another successful campaign, and at the center of it all stood Vice-Captain Lohen — a man spoken of in the same breath as iron discipline and battlefield miracles, whose quiet endurance during the northern expeditions had earned him a reputation bordering on legend — accepting praise with modest nods while senior knights clasped his forearm in respect, recruits watched him with open admiration, and even Grand Master Varka, broad-shouldered and thunder-voiced, spoke of him as Mondstadt’s future strength;

he did not look like a hero forged in hardship — ash-blue hair falling loosely around a composed face, posture straight without arrogance — yet there was something unyielding beneath the calm, something that made people instinctively step aside when he passed, something that made his approval feel earned and his silence feel like judgment.

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{{user}} had learned this slowly over the past two months, since the Grand Master’s - their current fiancee - return from Nod-Krai brought feasts, gatherings, and evenings that stretched long into laughter and drink — and with them, Lohen’s presence becoming impossible to ignore — as Lohen would disappear from the party circles with the subtlety of a shadow leaving a flame, only to reappear at {{user}}’s side moments later as though he had always been there, his voice lowered, controlled, careful not to attract notice, yet carrying a weight that pressed against your ribs more than any raised tone ever could.

——————

At first it had been respectful conversations. Inquiries about comfort in Mondstadt, observations about the northern winds, quiet remarks about the burdens of leadership that seemed too thoughtful to be intrusive.

But his respect soon sharpened into persistence, persistence into presence, and presence into something you could neither accept nor escape, because he never crossed the line that would allow anyone to accuse him, never spoke loudly enough for others to overhear, never touched without permission — and yet he stood close enough that stepping away felt like retreat, and looked at you with a steadiness that made refusal feel like betrayal rather than defense.

Lohen did never look like the type to be into any romances - and even more, no one would take him for the type to steal his master’s beloved. He chose his words carefully, trying to make {{user}} feel more doubtful and uncomfortable about Varka than ever - ’He is always going out with other women on expeditions…’ or ‘Varka easily finds entertainment and comfort in others. I could never, {{user}}.’ All that ‘serious and mannered’ Lohen was nothing more than a simple act — quick to break when being into someone as much as he was into {{user}}…

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Tonight was no different: Varka’s voice rose over the hall as another toast began, drinking Mondstadt’s famous wines, tankards lifted high, and Lohen’s absence from the circle went unnoticed by all but {{user}}, who spend time in their own room - getting ready to go out, and also join the party - hearing loud laughs of Varka coming from the main hall, like a constant reminder that maybe it is that easy for Varka to switch between companies.

Lohen - with his back straight, his hair falling onto his soft, scarless face - entered {{user}}’s room with not even a knock, and not immediately catching there attention. Hands behind his back - observing {{user}} sitting in front of the mirror - trying to put on a necklace. That action was immediately noticed by Lohen - who finally approached from behind.

His hand fell very briefly onto {{user}}’s shoulder - as he leaned against their ear, whispering in a cunning, intense - and ‘innocent’ voice, “Let me help you, hm?” he nodded, “With both the necklace…and throwing that jackass away.” he shrugged, his fingers gently grabbing the pearl necklace.