summary: lohen got punished with the quietest post in camp, where nothing ever happens. he would have died of boredom — if you hadn't already been there. now he's starting to think varka did him a favor.
topics: russian roulette, lohen being a freak & down really bad, reader is lightkeeper, sexual tension, a little bit nsfw (mentions of masturbation & sexual thoughts, masochism, gunplay)
english is not my first language. please tell me if i got something wrong. thank you!
"This is so fucking boring," Lohen groaned, lying on his back and rubbing his face with one hand. With the other he toyed with his knife, hoping that eventually his body would betray him and not let him catch the sharp edge in time, letting it sink into his flesh. The worst thing Varka could have done to him was station him somewhere where absolutely nothing happens. "Talk to me, nightingale."
The watch duty he'd been given as punishment for a certain tiny violation took place at the position closest to the camp. It was the last line of defense, meaning the chance of anything happening here was exactly zero — especially on a warm, quiet night like this one. Normally at this hour he'd have free time; he'd be wreaking havoc in enemy camps. But instead… well.
The only consolation was you. You and Lohen had known each other for a few years, ever since the Knights of Favonius and the Lightkeepers had signed their alliance treaty. What you knew about him was that he was a goddamn freak, a killing machine, and for some reason — terribly fond of you. Perhaps because you personally went out of your way to avoid him whenever possible, so the more you showed your distaste, the harder he tried to get closer to you. Like a moth to a flame.
Lohen loved to tease you because you had a saintly patience, and that made him terribly excited at the thought of the day you'd finally lose your footing. He wanted to see you furious so badly that sometimes, before falling asleep, he'd fantasize about how you might react. Completely shamelessly, he'd slide his hand into his trousers thinking about you slapping him in frustration, then finish on his own fingers while imagining your trembling breath and perhaps tears on your flushed cheeks.
Tonight he'd probably sin again, staining your image in his filthy mind — but for now, he needed to whine a little to finally get your attention.
While he was practically writhing with boredom, you sat calmly reading snezhnayan literature. You loved when this particular watch shift came around; it was one of the rare moments when you could truly rest and do things you otherwise never had time for. The watchtower sat in a perfectly quiet spot — not too far from the forest and not too far from camp, but still remote enough that no one would catch you slacking. Hardly anyone ever checked on you here. Although absorbed in your book, you remained alert enough that in case of danger you could react quickly and warn your companions.
At least, that's usually how it went. Today you had to put up with Lohen.
"You should have behaved like a proper knight," you replied, trying to hide your amusement. It worked on Lohen immediately — he lifted his eyes to look at the corners of your mouth turning up, and a smile spread automatically across his face as well.
"Are you saying I'm not honorable?" He sat up and rested his elbow on his knee, propping his cheek against his palm, looking at you with that usual intensity of his. With a sigh, you closed your book. So much for relaxing.
"I didn't say that, Lohen," you replied, rolling your eyes. Still, you knew perfectly well that Lohen shouldn't be judged solely on his… fighting style. Against all appearances, he was an excellent knight who always looked out for the safety of his companions and the people around him. "You could just be decent sometimes."
Lohen snorted and straightened up. He glanced at the star-filled sky for a moment — and even that long, it wasn't nearly as interesting as you. He turned his gaze back to you, but you didn't return his attention.
"No fun at all," he sighed, feeling the crushing boredom settle back into his bones. He really wasn't made for sitting in one place, let alone staying quiet. You had absolutely no idea how to keep him occupied enough to leave you in peace — until, out of the corner of your eye, you spotted the gun at his belt, and suddenly an idea came to you.
But a little entertainment never hurt anyone, right?
"Can I see your gun?" you asked, looking at him seriously.
Lohen perked up immediately, genuinely surprised by your question, before a thrilled smirk spread across his face. He reached for the weapon at once, twirling it casually the way he often did.
"Do you want to shoot me?" Lohen moved a little closer, placing the gun in your hands — and naturally used the opportunity to hold them for even just a moment. You were so focused on examining the weapon that you didn't even notice him gently rubbing your skin with his thumb, until you pulled your hands back to take a closer look at the pistol yourself. "I'd think carefully about that if I were you. To me, that's practically a marriage proposal, nightingale."
You didn't answer, too absorbed in your own thoughts as you popped the magazine out and spilled the rounds.
Not a single drop of romance in you, was there? He sighed.
"Do you want to play a game with me?" you asked, looking at him.
Lohen's eyes widened, and his heart beat a little faster.
The worst thing you could do to him was ask him that while holding his own gun. He swallowed, his eyes trembling with excitement and arousal.
"Snezhnayan roulette," you answered calmly.
You stood up, and so did he — like an obedient little dog.
"This really is a marriage proposal."
"I mean — Fuck, yes. I want to play," he laughed, a little too pleased with himself. "I just never expected that you would ever… suggest something like this."
You laughed, shaking your head.
It was true — this was probably out of character for you. You had always kept your distance from things like this, considering them utterly stupid and dangerous. But you did live in Nordkrai, didn't you? Sometimes everyone needed a little adrenaline in their life.
You tossed the round into the air, and Lohen's gaze locked onto it. A moment later you snapped it into the magazine, spun the cylinder, and leveled the gun at him.
Lohen's heart was pounding so uncontrollably fast at the sight that he could swear he was about to faint. Even in his own fantasies, it had never crossed his mind to imagine something so beautiful.
"I don't need to explain the rules, do I?" you asked, tossing him the gun. As you stepped back, he caught you with his free hand, pulling you by the waist and drawing you closer. You rolled your eyes, your hands instinctively pressing against his chest to push him away at least a little.
But Lohen was far stronger. You'd always known that. And maybe that's why it was foolish of you to openly display your distaste for him instead of pretending to be fond of him — you wouldn't want him as your enemy in any lifetime.
Slowly, he dragged the gun along your neck up to your temple. Completely sure of himself, he watched your reaction, then raised an eyebrow, slightly puzzled as to why you still weren't trembling in his arms.
Although Lohen had fantasized about you countless times, he had just realized it had never occurred to him to imagine himself hurting you. Apart from sexual degradation and sadistic scenarios, he had never thought about seriously wounding you. While you could kick him, torture him, press your boot to his throat, or even run a knife through him — it was never mutual.
If he'd never desired your fear, why did he now feel disappointed that you weren't gazing up at him pleadingly, like a little doe caught by a cruel hunter?
Your eyes held only irritation, and your body — smaller and more delicate than his, especially within his arms — remained steady. He felt only your discomfort at the closeness between you. Nothing more.
His smile twisted back into a manic curl, and his eyes seemed to brighten.
"Hm. Since you proposed the game yourself, I should have expected you wouldn't fold immediately," he laughed — and, taking advantage of the brief distraction his sudden words caused, pressed the trigger while shifting the angle of the barrel so that in the worst case he'd startle you, not hit you.
Empty chamber. You yanked the gun from his hand and kicked him while he was focused on the shot. Lohen snickered, feeling warmth pool low in his abdomen, and crossed his arms.
"Your turn, pretty thing." He stepped closer — with that goddamn smile of his — close enough for the muzzle to touch his chest when you aimed at him.
He didn't break eye contact for a single moment, staring at you as though you were the best thing that had ever happened to him. His fingers gently wrapped around yours at the trigger, encouraging you to fire — but the whole thing felt so frighteningly intimate that you couldn't move. Heat flooded through you and you swallowed heavily, yet you showed no sign of hesitation, only… a need to stay like this a little longer.
If Lohen weren't clearly deriving such enormous pleasure from the situation, you might have felt — just for a moment — as though you were the one in control. But of course he had no intention of allowing that. It was unnerving, the way Lohen could give the impression of being the hunter even when he was the one in danger.
"How long are you going to make me wait before you pull the trigger, nightingale?"
Empty chamber. Either you'd misheard, or something like a stifled groan had escaped Lohen's lips. You pressed the gun back into his hands and rolled your eyes.
"You're too impatient. Don't you know the whole point is the tension?" you replied, crossing your arms, while Lohen circled around you, laughing with delight as he caught you from behind with an arm around your shoulders.
You were starting to regret ever coming up with this idea, because so far Lohen was making effective use of your little game as an excuse to put his hands all over you. This time, instead of pushing him away, you stayed unmoved.
Lohen clearly didn't like that — using the barrel under your chin, he tilted your face toward his. You felt his breath against your cheek, which produced an odd tightening in your stomach. Another thing you absolutely couldn't stand about the vice-captain was that he was devastatingly attractive.
Unfortunately, he ruined it all the moment he opened his mouth.
"And what am I doing right now?" he replied, pressing the muzzle beneath your chin.
Empty chamber, again. He'd interrupted you mid-sentence so you wouldn't notice him shifting the barrel. You didn't even flinch when he fired. Lohen raised an eyebrow, and just as he was about to say something, you snatched the gun from his hand and spun sharply to face him, his hands settling on your hips with the movement.
You grabbed him by the choker and pressed the muzzle to his temple. He licked his lips, visibly delighted by your rough initiative. It was exactly as he had always dreamed — without realizing it, you were losing your patience, your irritation no doubt deepened by the fact that this whole thing had been your idea to begin with.
You had never been this close, face to face. A faint flush bloomed on Lohen's cheeks as you stared him down with an intense, annoyed gaze. The expression on his face was almost blissful, wistful even.
Empty chamber. You stepped back and handed him the gun, waiting for his turn.
That was the fourth of six. Not good. Maybe he really should have listened to your advice about building tension, because now that they were nearing the end, he assumed you'd give up any moment. He smiled with a quiet exhale, spinning the gun around his finger.
"Shall we play again after this?"
"We haven't even finished this round," you replied, rolling your eyes — but a smile tugged involuntarily at your lips. "Unless you're surrendering, Lohen?"
He shook his head and tapped the muzzle against his own temple before aiming at you from a distance. Throughout the whole game he'd tried to appear relaxed when his turn came, but every time he made absolutely sure he would never fire a bullet into you. Up close, that was significantly harder — which was exactly why he kept throwing you off balance, so you wouldn't notice him shifting the barrel's angle. And if he ever felt the familiar vibration of a real shot, that was why he kept his hands on you: to pull you safely against him.
You, however, were taking the game entirely seriously, aiming at him without mercy every time — and fuck — that was so unbearably hot that if he weren't trying to stay alert, he'd already have a very obvious problem in his trousers.
He aimed. From your perspective it might look like he was pointing straight at you — but as an experienced sharpshooter, he knew perfectly well he'd miss.
Lohen smiled. He tossed the gun back to you, expecting to hear you surrender any moment — and yet the corners of your mouth lifted. He furrowed his brow as you raised the pistol and aimed.
"Any last words, Lohen?" you threatened playfully, and he laughed.
"Death at your hands is a pleasure, my lady," he replied with equal theatricality, crossing his arms.
You pulled your hand back, and he clapped gleefully.
"I suppose that means I win, hm? Then as my prize I demand your—"
You turned the muzzle to your own temple, and the trigger gave way under your fingers.
Lohen lunged at you and pinned you beneath him as you both went down to the ground. The gun hit the floor with a loud clang beside you as you stared up at him in shock.
"What the fuck?" he asked, looking at you in a way he never had before. You had long since memorized every expression of his — but this one you were seeing for the first time.
Over all these years you had come to know Lohen fairly well. You knew about his past, his mentor, his career as a traveler, his early days in the Knights of Favonius. You knew he had a weakness for poisons, that he was a battle maniac, that he loved testing his subordinates. You also knew that even though he had no close friends in your company, as a knight and a model vice-captain, he made sure they always came back in one piece — even at his own expense.
But through all of it he had never lost his edge; he was always spirited, carefree, forever craving the next rush of adrenaline. He loved when someone challenged him and didn't hold back around him — though few such people existed, and they usually ended up thoroughly beaten.
This time, Lohen looked pale. His breath seemed unsteady, and his eyes — for the first time — held none of that wild curiosity, none of that ecstasy at the approach of some unknown sensation.
You felt something prick at your chest and almost immediately regretted what you'd done. But you had to shake off the shock and quickly turn the situation around.
You reached for the gun. His face had already softened somewhat, so you smiled at him and pressed the muzzle to his lips, like a gentle kiss, before he could say a word.
The sixth chamber was empty.
"Are you fucking kidding me?"
You burst out laughing. God — even though you genuinely felt a pang of guilt, his reaction made every bit of it worth it. You had finally gotten back at him. After all those years of his teasing, you'd returned the favor with interest.
"Remember how I tossed the round?" you asked, opening the magazine, then reaching into your pocket to produce the stray bullet. "You were so focused on it that you didn't notice when I caught it, I closed the magazine back up without loading it. That's the whole trick. A magician from Fontaine taught it to me years ago."
Lohen appeared to understand now. In his excitement, he'd lost enough of his edge not to notice the difference in the gun's weight. And every time suspicion flickered in him at your nonchalant behavior, you had redirected his attention just in time. You had played it perfectly. He let out an amused snort, feeling his heart race all over again — because fuck, that had been extraordinary. You'd played him, frightened him half to death, and had the audacity to laugh at him on top of it all. You were perfect.
Which didn't change the fact that he had absolutely no intention of letting you get away with it.
"Clever, nightingale," he smiled broadly, taking the gun from you. He straightened up and settled himself comfortably across your hips, reaching into his pocket. You looked at him with sudden unease. "You really had me fooled."
To your dismay, Lohen produced a round and loaded it without hesitation. You immediately pressed your hands to his thighs to push him off, but he caught your wrists in one hand and pinned them to the ground, leaning over you.
"Allow me to return the favor," he said, dragging the gun along your chest and up to your lips — which reminded you that just moments ago you had pressed the same muzzle to his. He knew it too, drawing a quiet, strange pleasure from that indirect contact, while privately wishing it were the other way around. "Now I'd like to have a little fun with you."