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Well, if it wasn't the consequences of his actions.
"Think about what you've done, Lohen." Jean hissed, lacking any real venom in her voice -- just disappointment. She slammed the door behind him, leaving the young knight alone to his own devices in such a...you know what, he actually wasn't expecting the lovely sight before his eyes. He'd remembered the last time he was in that rotten room it was stripped of any entertainment or barren of a cosy atmosphere — just a blank slate for “reflection” that would've made any sane person go crazy (sane people, a bracket Lohen was not apart of). However upon inspection, his preconceptions were proven to be false.
A gorgeous, large, and might he say, comfy red chair sat in the corner. Something told him that that chair wasn't his to sit in, but he took a seat in it anyways.
One sweep of the room told him everything he needed to know; whoever was kept in this room was not the cleanliest of people. Books, more books, even more books, they seemed to be either a mix of actual books containing information pertaining to the Knights of Favonius, or children's books. There was a huge pile of books scattered about on the rug, as if someone had pilfered around in search for something. Oh well, he didn't particularly feel like investigating it himself; he'd just let his brain do all of the entertaining.
If there was one thing Lohen was great at, it was retreating into the back of his head and just thinking, especially when he was mentally drained from social conventions.
But his usual talent proved to be inconvenient for him, as he wasn't particularly keen on thinking about anything after what had just gone down. He'd rather the events of the day retreat into the back of his mind and get locked up with all of the other unpleasant memories he was forced to store.
Lohen sat slumped in the chair, his legs kicked up on the arm rest as he blew the strands of his hair sitting in his face; boredom was taking over quick and Lohen didn't know how long he'd survive.
He’d ignore the large explosion that echoed in the distance; what was the point of caring if he couldn’t even investigate the source of the noise?
Lohen was no stranger to solitary confinement; he wouldn’t say it was his home, per say, more like an old friend he’d have the “pleasure” of reuniting with any time he’d let his defiant nature get the better of him.
But it had been a while since he’d been sent there, and he’d definitely learned his lesson after spending a couple of days in there with nothing to kill; his time spent in confinement as a youth felt more torturous than any of the current torture methods he exacted on scums. Fortunately for Lohen, he wouldn’t have to go through that aforementioned agony of losing his shit to his hyperactive, murderous brain, all because of a nifty little thing called “growing up” and attaining resilience. At his age, he was able to deal with the fact he couldn’t move around and instead just sit and plot, unlike his former, younger self, who would've been clawing at the walls akin to a rabid animal forced into containment by now.
Maybe he should get Varka an "apology" gift for all of the trouble he's caused? Possibly one for Jean as well; he was incredibly lucky he didn’t get his job as vice-captain stripped from him like he did his promotion. Losing the job he'd worked so hard for? Yeah, that would've sucked, but losing his promotion and title? Lohen actually wasn't too phased by that — solitary confinement in his state felt like a much more effective punishment than any rescinding of titles did.
Lohen bopped himself on the head, his thoughts beginning to stray to the back of his brain in search for the fresh memories that were tugging at him for attention. Lohen didn’t want to think about Theodore, or the fact that Adorno was actually gone, or the consequences of his actions.
He honestly didn’t give two shits about the consequences, honestly, he was kind of fucking mad that the experiments on him didn’t work. Sure, he had been the one to chase after Theodore and stop him from injecting the man who saved their lives with the highest concentration of Ursa’s flesh, but that was only because Theodore would’ve caused more problems for Lohen and everyone else.
If only he could’ve been able to handle that power all by himself; If only he was strong enough to take it all in and utilise such power to his advantage. If he could've, then right now, as he sat in the chair and watched life happen outside of the walls via the large window, he would’ve been able to feel that power coursing through his veins, heightening his former strength into something unthinkable. He would've been blessed and comforted by the knowledge that he had adept powers in his body and that nobody would be able to take advantage of him.
But no, of course not. He just had to be a “slow, powerless mortal” as that big-shot Rerir put it.
He couldn't handle it, no matter how hard he begged and hoped for that miracle to happen.
“Whatever,” Lohen huffed, “it doesn’t matter anymore.” His hands, which had been hard at working crafting some bubblegum, fiddled with the mixture until he tossed it into his mouth. He was mid chew when the door pushed open, and a tiny figure was ushered in. He almost choked.
“Now you’re missing out on the fun ceremony.” Reprimanded a voice; Lohen recognised to be Jean’s.
“But I was just making it more exciting for everyone!”
“Tossing bombs from the top of the statue is NOT the way to do it, Klee; you know better than that. I’ll come get you when you behave.” Jean slammed the door shut, leaving little Klee standing there with slumped shoulders.
“Ah, I was wondering when I’d see you.” Lohen piped up, waving at her from what was probably her special chair ('if it was for a kid, why is it twice the size of her? It’s clearly for everyone' was Lohen’s mental justification for stealing her chair).
Klee turned around, her eyes lighting up at the sight of company in the prison of solitude. “Lohen!” She ignored the fact he was sitting in her chair, instead choosing to sit on the floor next to him as she gazed up with wide, excited eyes. Lohen smiled.
“Am I right to suspect that you were the cause of that loud explosion from earlier?”
“Mhm! I was chucking down bombs from the big Barbatos statue!”
Lohen cackled, waving his hand as he fought to capture his lost composure. “C-Chucking down bombs? Wow, that’s a good one!”
A wide grin crossed Klee's face, overjoyed at finding someone other than her mother who seemed to be approving of her arsonist tendencies, “it was so boring, so I made it more fun!”
“You sure did, and yeah, I bet that ceremony was boring as f— fuuuuudge... without any explosives.”
“But I got in trouble.”
“Yup.”
“Jean said that people could’ve gotten hurt, which would’ve taken away all of the fun.”
“Pain can be fun.”
“...What?”
“Nevermind.” Lohen brushed off his earlier comment, turning his head away and directing his eyes to the prison wall in front of him. Usually, Lohen avoided interactions with most children; they were loud and very annoying, and his way of “bonding” with children was very different from the typical way. Was it really a crime to teach kids how to use a dagger and crossbow? Come on! If anything he was teaching them how to protect themselves from mentally insane college drop-out doctors!
Anyways, the point was, Lohen and children never mixed well — aside from one child. The Spark Knight and adored child of the Knights of Favonius -- Klee. She was an eccentric child who loved chaos and destruction, just like Lohen. He found himself thoroughly entertained any time she relayed to him any of her antics, and she proved to be quite handy at times. Whenever Lohen was up to something suspicious or something he shouldn’t be doing, he would just use Klee as a scapegoat, which definitely got him out of several sticky situations.
“Lohen?”
“Hmm?” Lohen's eyes darted to Klee.
“Why are you in here?”
“Oh,” he shuffled in the chair, facing her and letting one leg hang from the chair whilst using the other one as an arm rest, “I did something bad.”
“Like what?”
Lohen smiled sweetly, “An old ‘friend’ of mine and I experimented on a bunch of monsters and ourselves using flesh from an evil, powerful dragon in order to prolong the life of our...I guess "father figure" — well, he was doing it for that reason, I just wanted power.”
The young girl blinked at him, the gravity of such words not really computing in her young mind. Lohen shrugged his shoulders as he chuckled, “don’t worry too much about it.” He snickered, handing her one of his handmade candies. She graciously accepted the gift, throwing the candy in her mouth and chewing mindlessly. Lohen closed his eyes.
“Lohen?”
"Hm?"
“Aren’t you sad you missed out on the ceremony?”
“Not really. I was honestly dreading it more than anything. It's a waste of time in my opinion; I really couldn’t care less about missing out on some boring ceremony.”
“But,” she sat up on her knees, becoming more animated with every word, “you were supposed to get a super cool title! And a super cool job!”
“Well, it’s hard to miss out on something when you never wanted it in the first place.” Dismissed Lohen. He watched the little girl's face momentarily pause before observing her eyebrows knot and her eyes crinkle; a tiny, frail frown on her face. He wasn’t expecting to see a such a forlorn look on Klee’s face after saying that. He was just being honest; he really didn’t care about the ceremony, and a part of him knew that he’d never get that title. He was undeserving of such a chivalrous title, and one passed down from such a noble man at that.
So if he wasn’t bothered by it, then why was she? Children were a confusing aspect of life he surmised, before tossing her another candy just so she could smile again. Her eyes lit up as she caught the bubble gum between her gloved hands, looking up at him with a joyous expression.
“I like you Lohen!”
“That’s nice.”
“You’re really cool, and strong, and weird; you’re nothing like the other knights! You’re so strange.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Klee got up from her spot and beelined it for the messy book corner. She flung, flicked, and shoved a myriad of books that were scattered about. Looks like Lohen had found the culprit of the messy state of solitary confinement, which wasn't a difficult feat.
Actually, now that he was thinking about it, this wasn’t like solitary confinement at all; there wasn't any solitude to be seen! Here he was expecting to make an entire batch of bubble gum large enough to feed a whole village to stave off his boredom, but instead, he was just watching one of the most beloved children of Mondstadt pull out a whole box of crayons and a stack of paper, before making herself comfortable on the floor and colouring away.
He watched her with an eagle's eye, noting every small movement and shift in her behaviour. His eyes zeroed in on her hands. Crayons? The gears in Lohen’s mind began to shift and whirr like clockwork, retreating back to a certain something that Varka had told him about the Captain.
He smirked, having formulated his next plan of attack on a lonesome ruin guard.
“Mind if I borrow those crayons sometime?”
Klee raised her head. “Do you like drawing too?”
“I dabble, but I’m no artist like you clearly are,” he said, referring to her scribbles on paper that somewhat resembled herself and Lohen holding hands. Klee’s smile widened, her strokes and scratches on the paper becoming even more invigorated and energetic than before.
“Of course you can! You can use them whenever you want!”
“Perfect.” Lohen purred, turning his attention back to the saccharine mess in his hands.
The two of them remained in their own worlds for the next hour. Klee managed to pump out several drawings while Lohen was planning how he was going to utilise this huge batch of gum in the future. Perhaps he could put poison in them and hand them out? A good idea, but most people are already wary of Lohen whenever he goes around handing out “gifts” to everyone, so he’d have to get someone else to hand them out in his stead; that would most likely lower their guards and then he could sneak up on them and—
“Klee.” The door pushed open. “You can come out now.”
Klee scrambled to her feet excitedly, scooping up her masterpieces in her arms as she hopped to the door to greet Jean.
“Come on, Lohen!” She gestured for him to follow, before being stopped by Jean. “No can do, Klee. Lohen is in big, big trouble. He has to stay.” Lohen ignored the side-eye he got from the acting grand master, simply smiling and waving in response.
“I promise to be a good boy from now on.” He smirked.
Jean ignored him and ushered a disappointed looking Klee out, shutting the door behind her and leaving Lohen to listen to the sounds of their footsteps retreating.
Now he really was alone again.
That’s fine. He liked being alone; he was used to it.
He slumped into the chair again, kicking his feet back up on the arm rests as he stashed away his “stock”. Lohen didn’t feel like making anything; he didn’t feel like doing anything.
He felt the silence and loneliness kicking in now that Klee had departed, and now all that was left was a haunting feel in his hollow body.
Lohen sighed, letting his eyes unfocus and his mind blank out for however long his punishment lasted for.
—~*~—
Lohen didn’t know what day he was up to during his time in solitary confinement, all he knew was that his fingers were sore from making candies and from mindlessly scratching at his skin to feel something other than the persevering emptiness that overrode his senses.
His current position was on the floor with his legs on the chair, the complete opposite of how one should be seated in the chair. The feeling of the rug against his body provided some semblance of comfort and negated the effects of the uncomfortable wooden floor below.
His hands rested on his arm, scratching himself subconsciously as he stared straight up at the roof. If you asked Lohen what he did the entire time he was in solitary confinement, he’d tell you that he was occupying himself with making candies, purely because that was the only thing he could really remember doing during his time in there. Everything else felt like a foggy dream he couldn’t quite remember; he felt dazed and mentally absent.
The sound of the door knob jiggling alerted him of someone’s presence, but it didn’t break him free from his “out-of-it” state he was currently trapped in.
Lohen stood up, brushing his clothes down and fixing his sleeves. He’d expected the acting grand master to be at the door, a sight he wouldn’t have minded. Jean’s lectures were long and arduous, but they were a lot more bearable than a certain someone else’s were.
But of course, as per Lohen's horrendous track record when it came to luck, it was that certain someone standing in the doorway, his arms crossed and expression unreadable. Disappointment, anger, sadness…? Lohen was usually fantastic at reading the expressions that crossed people's faces, he tortured people for goodness sake, he knew a thing or two about facial expressions, but Varka's expressions were like a raging storm out at sea, muddled and confusing to understand.
“Ah, Grand Master Varka! To what do I owe the pleasure of your esteemed presence? Perhaps you were in search for some barrels of wine?” Lohen smiled, sarcastically.
“Lohen.” Varka started, before chewing up whatever he was going to say and swallowing it dry. He took a deep breath. “Come on, your time’s up.”
“Well, that’s some great news.” Lohen stretched, pulling his arms up above his head as he continued, “You know, if you kept me in here longer I think I might’ve actually felt remorse for what I—“
“Lohen.”
“Alright, alright.” Lohen walked out of the room he’d been inhabiting for three days, feeling the wind push past his body as Varka shut the door. Despite having vacated the room of near-isolation, Lohen still felt that off feeling he was all too familiar with; Distant, absent, away, not fully there, dazed, those were all the words Lohen could use to best describe what he was "feeling."
“Well, I’ve definitely learned my lesson; I’ll be extra good from now on.” Lohen gave Varka a wave from behind, already making his way to the doors of the Knights of Favonius Headquarters.
“Don’t leave yet.”
Lohen stopped in his tracks.
“You’re not finished yet. Come on.” Varka gestured to his office with his head; Lohen sighed wistfully, “and to think I nearly got away without a lecture.”
As Lohen forwarded into Varka’s office, Varka smirked. “You know the procedure; it’s wishful thinking to think you wouldn’t have gotten away without a scolding or two.”
“Yeah, ’I should’ve known better.’ That’s what you want to tell me, isn’t it?”
Varka paused, taking another deep breath and forcing a laugh, “Is there ever a day where you’re not difficult, Lohen?” The subject in question took a seat on the couch positioned in front of the window; he favoured said couch because he didn’t have to sit directly in front of people.
“Hm, I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.” Lohen reached into the pocket of his coat instinctively, before realising that his dagger wasn’t on his person at the moment. He looked up at Varka, who pulled open a drawer and handed him his equipment that had been confiscated during his time in confinement. He fiddled with the dagger, flipping it with his hand and catching it repeatedly.
“How’s your hand?”
“Hm?” Lohen stopped, his eyes knitting in genuine confusion before a moment of realisation crossed his face, “oh, that’s right, I stabbed myself.” He laughed to himself before continuing to toss the dagger. Varka tensed uncomfortably.
“Look, Lohen, I know you’re pretty reckless most of the time, and sure it works in battle, but have some self-preservation.”
“Thanks for the advice, Grand Master Varka; I’ll have some self-preservation when you have some self-restraint.” He retored, subtly signalling to the alcohol on his desk.
“Ha! Touché, Lohen, touché.”
The room returned to silence, the only sound coming from the knife as it flew in the air and was consequently caught by Lohen’s bad hand. The grand master, who was drumming his fingers along the surface of his desk, sucked in a deep breath before breaching another attempt at a conversation.
“But seriously, Lohen, was stabbing yourself really necessary?”
“A little bit of pain is always necessary.”
“You…ugh.” Varka caught his head with his hand, not even bothering to call out Lohen’s weird relationship with pain. “Come on, I’m worried about you, kid. Don’t be doing that again.” His eyes glanced down towards Lohen's sleeves before climbing their way back to his unsettling eyes; the young knight shifted in discomfort, feeling particularly vulnerable as he felt Varka's trained eyes analysing him. He crossed his arms and spoke impatiently.
“Yeah, yeah, I get it, can I go now? I’ve got things to do and places to be.” Lohen was half the journey to standing up when the suddenness of Varka standing up from his seat froze him in his tracks.
“Sit down. I’m not done.”
“What’s got you so grouchy today? Someone poison your wine?”
“Not today actually, because that someone was too busy serving his time in solitary confinement.”
That someone laughed, crossing his arms as he finally stood up, eyeing Varka. “I appreciate the concern, Grand Master, but I’d really like to be back out there as soon as possible, so how about we wrap this up quickly, yeah?”
“Would it kill you to practise an ounce of patience?”
“I’ve been doing that for the past…however long I was in that room for.”
“This is what’s worrying me, you don’t even remember how long you were in that room for! That’s not like the vigilant and attentive person you are, Lohen.”
"The Lohen I know would've been tracking the time he spent in there down to the seconds."
Lohen's eyebrows furrowed slightly. He stayed quiet before relenting and sitting down, surrendering to Varka's will.
“Lohen—“
“I’m not weak.”
“I know that.” Varka was surprised by the suddenly bitter tone in the young knight’s voice; it was a far cry from his usual lackadaisical and provocative voice he usually had. “I just— You seem off.”
Lohen didn't reply; he continued to give Varka the evil eye as he stared deeply into his soul with those icy, cold eyes, but there was something different about the way Lohen was staring at him. Instead of looking calculating, Lohen's eyes looked distant and uninhabited. Lohen looked out of it, as if he was just going through the motions of life instead of living it himself.
Immediately, the annoyance Varka felt from Lohen's previously flippant attitude began to dwindle into nothing, slowly getting replaced by concern as Varka's fingers stopped their drumming motion.
"What's going on with you?"
"Nothing at all, Varka, I don't know what you're talking about." Lohen's facial expression remained unchanging, the only clue to his far-off state of mind being his monotone voice. Varka shifted uncomfortably in his chair; he was the grand master, known for being a symbol of strength and hope to the people of Mondstadt, and of course he knew how to life people's spirits, but that was when they were charging into war.
Right now, at this point in time, where he was faced with his subordinate clearly struggling with something, Varka didn't know what to do. If it was anyone else, he might've know what to do or what to say, but Lohen was a different character compared to the other knights; Varka's usual approach most likely wouldn't do anything to help Lohen.
"Can I go now?" The young knight had grown tired of waiting, his foot tapping against the floor as he angled his head away from the grand master, snapping Varka from his inner thoughts.
"...Relying on others doesn't make you weak, Lohen."
The melodical tapping ceased.
"I've seen that far-off look in so many soldiers' eyes; I've been around for a lot longer than you have." Varka stood up, his chair scraping against the floor as he stepped towards the seated figure of Lohen, who was still looking away from Varka -- his eyes remaining as vacant as ever.
"What I'm trying to get at is-- well -- I'm not trying to force you to but..." His voice clogged up, the words he wanted to say blocking the entrance to his throat. Varka didn't want to say anything wrong or disturb Lohen even more than he already was.
Varka placed a firm hand on his left shoulder, squeezing it slightly; Lohen tensed at the sudden contact.
"I'm here for you."
The young knight finally looked up at Varka; the previous distant and vacant look in his eyes finally disappeared as he averted his eyes down to his lap. He didn't respond, but Varka didn't need any response from him, he didn't need Lohen to say or do anything, so long as he knew that he could rely on his captain -- Varka was satisfied.
"I know you're eager to get out of here, so I won't keep you for much longer. Hopefully you've learned your lesson." He retracted his hand, watching as Lohen took a brief moment of silent pondering before getting up from his seat on the couch.
"T-Thanks, Varka." Though Lohen's facial expressions rarely changed to match the emotion he was feeling, his voice alone painted the clearest picture for Varka. The crackling in his voice as he spoke, sounding as if he was going to break and start crying in that second; Varka wished he could've given the young man a hug rather than a meagre pat on the shoulder, but before he knew it, Lohen was out of the door.
Varka took a deep breath, collapsing back into his chair as he looked down at his desk.
"Did you get him to fill out the paper work?" Jean posed, walking into the room and standing in front of Varka's desk.
Fuck. He'd totally forgotten to do that.
"I'll catch him up later; I thought it was best to let him be for a little bit."
"He did look a bit off when he walked past me, but that kid always looks off." Jean sighed, taking a seat on the edge of Varka's desk as she crossed her arms. "Do you think he learned anything from his punishments?"
"Eh, probably not. But I'm hopeful he's learned at least something."
"Yeah," Jean huffed, exhausted from having to do all of Varka's work, "I hope so too."
--~*~--
After Lohen visited Adorno's grave, and was subsequently pulled into a conversation with the Traveler, he made his way over to Angel's Share -- not to drink away his sorrows or anything like that (he didn't even like alcohol), but to locate a certain someone.
"Hey! Lohen, what are you doing here?' Varka waved cheerfully. He was sat by himself at a table in the furthest corner, totally unlike him and more like what Lohen would do. Maybe Varka had hoped Lohen would come seeking him out after visiting Adorno -- or knew that he would.
Lohen didn't say anything as he slipped into the seat next to Varka, pulling out a big jug of dandelion wine out of what appeared to be thin air and slamming it down on the table. "This is my apology gift, brings back memories, doesn't it?"
"Ohoh! Thanks, Lohen," Varka barked out, excitement coating his words, "and it sure does bring back memories to when you got out of confinement for the first time." Varka uncorked the screw, pouring it into his large cup and inspecting the wine. Lohen laughed.
"Nothing gets past you, does it, Grand Master Varka? Already suspecting foul play." Lohen rested his chin on his hands, a small smirk playing at his lips as he watched the captain pedantically look over his wine over and over again.
"Well if its anything like last time, then I should thoroughly inspect this wine. I'd rather be safe than sorry."
"Heh, I suppose so." Lohen looked down at the table, listening to the sound of Varka gulping down the wine with inital trepidation, before relaxing and drinking at a normal pace.
Neither of them said anything, they didn't need to part any words either; the two of them knew why he had visited Varka.
Lohen rested his head on the table in front of him -- quiet as ever.
Varka put down his poisoned-free wine, placing a hand on the top of Lohen's head and lightly ruffling the young knight's hair in an attempt to comfort the grief-stricken knight.
"It's alright. It's over now."