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Their Reactions to Your Death (Pt 1)

Scenarios where Flins, Illuga, Durin, and Lohen react to Fem!Reader's death.

All four of these guys have a strong relation to death, so I felt inspired to write angst. I'm not quite satisfied with the ending to Lohen's part so I might tweak it in the future, but for now, my brain is too fried. I was originally going to write a scenario of Lohen coming back from the expedition to find Reader had died while he was away based on this yume artwork, but Hoyo handed me his SQ on a silver platter, so that plan changed.

WARNING:

⚠️Contains pure angst. Some parts are bittersweet while others are more angsty. You have been warned.

⚠️If you haven't done Lohen's story quest or read his character stories, his part contains mild spoilers.

⚠️ Lohen's part also contains descriptions of violence. I tried not to be too graphic, but you have been warned.

If anyone is interested, here is the music I listened to while writing each part:

Flins (Grief Spreading Like Haze by HOYO-MiX)

Illuga (ashes of memories by METAHESH)

Durin (ウィアートル by rionos [from the movie Maquia: When the Promised Flower Blooms])

Lohen (I can't forget you by rxdlxst)

🕯️Flins🕯️

From the moment Flins accepted you as his lover, he knew your time together would be short. You were an ordinary human whose lifespan would only last a handful of decades, while he was a centuries-old fae who would live for many centuries more. He would outlive you, plain and simple. The cost of having your love, your laughter, and your presence in his life would be a lifetime of quiet grief, but it was a price Flins was willing to pay because he loved you. He would rather share a few brilliant and warm decades with you than not know what it’s like to be loved by you at all. His only request was that if your love endured into your twilight years, when your time came, you would choose the Final Night Cemetery as your resting place. That way, you would remain close to him, and Flins could tend your grave as he did all the others at the cemetery.

The decades he spent with you were some of the warmest and sweetest in all his hundreds of years of existence. You showed Flins the joys of coming home to someone waiting for his return, of finding companionship and solace in someone who accepted him, of having a place to belong and given a reason to live on beyond his duties as a Ratnik. You changed his life in positive ways, and Flins would forever be grateful for these gifts you have given him.

However, time harbored no mercy. As the years passed by, Flins noticed changes in you. Your youthful features faded and you grew weaker, often complaining about joint pain or other ailments that bothered you. The hands he had kissed more times than he could count formed wrinkles, as did your lovely face. You were aging, and the realization made him quietly despair. He could feel your time together counting down year by year, your life slipping away like grains of sand in an hourglass that he was helpless to prevent from falling.

As you grew older and became an old lady, you joked that you were no longer the pretty girl he had married, but Flins disagreed. In his eyes, you were as beautiful as the day he met you. What he loved about you was not your looks, but your character. The person who chose to spend her life with a solitary fae who lived beside a graveyard and fought monsters for a living. No lovely face could match the beautiful radiance of a person’s soul, and to him, you shone as bright as a light in the dark.

But that light was on the verge of flickering out.

As he watched you grow older and weaker, Flins wanted to spend every second he could with you. He hoped to have a few more years with you. If not that, then just a few months longer before time inevitably took you away from him. Just a little more time was all he wanted…

The day the last grain of sand fell, Flins was prepared. He knew this day would come and had braced for it for years, so your passing didn’t hit him like an ice-cold blade, nor did it send his world crashing down. It just settled over him like a leaden blanket.

Flins was used to a life of loneliness and solitude. Although he found a place to belong among the Lightkeepers, he never truly felt like a genuine part of them. A fae masquerading as a human could never truly fit in among humans. Yet, you had accepted him and given Flins a place to belong. He had known you for less time than he had been alive, but you reshaped his idea of normal. His new idea of normal meant coming home to his wife, telling her jokes, holding her in his arms, sharing kisses, and being told he is loved. Now, an oppressive, empty silence greeted him each time he came home, and there was no one to give him affection or receive his. The isolation he knew so intimately was back, and although the solitude was familiar, it felt unwelcome since it highlighted the void within him that your presence had once filled.

As per your promise, you were laid to rest at the Final Night Cemetery. Flins tended your grave frequently, clearing away moss and dead leaves, and placing your favorite flowers. It would be diligently maintained for centuries to come, so your name engraved onto the stone would still be legible.

With your death came the difficult task of sorting through your belongings, but Flins couldn’t bring himself to get rid of anything. He collected what he could, keeping some of your favorite clothes, storing away jewelry he had once gifted you, and even holding on to the chipped cup you always drank from. He hoarded things that were once yours because they were all he had left of you. They were a reminder that you had been alive and shared this space with him, so Flins stored them away for safekeeping until he could bring himself to part with them.

He also had a collection of every letter and note you ever sent him stored away in a box. It was like a small time capsule spanning the length of your life together, so whenever his longing for you grew too strong, Flins would retrieve the letters and read through them. It didn’t matter if the letter was about business matters or a personal message. Just being able to see your handwriting and get a glimpse of your thoughts was like holding a piece of you in his hands.

Aside from the letter, the box also contained little gifts and trinkets he acquired from you. There was the broken antique pocket watch you gave him on his birthday. It had fallen out of his pocket and shattered beyond repair the night he rushed to save you from a Wild Hunt attack. Flins didn’t have the heart to throw it away since it was a gift from you that you had painstakingly saved up to buy.

There was also a seashell you found on the shore during one of your beach dates. That date was especially memorable for Flins since you had asked him to teach you how to waltz. He still fondly recalled how sheepish you looked every time you accidentally stepped on his feet.

A simple golden ring with a deep blue sapphire rested inside the box, as well. It was the engagement ring he got you shortly after you asked him to marry you. It was a day Flins would never forget. After your proposal, Flins had warned you that he could not give you a family, wealth, or an ordinary life. He was not an ordinary man, after all. When you said that none of that mattered since all you needed was him, he was touched to his core. For a mortal to want to spend the rest of her life with him was a humbling concept, for he would be a part of your entire life, while you would only be a short but impactful chapter in his. Despite knowing the consequences, he accepted, wanting to cling to your warm and gentle love for as long as possible.

All these items were of no use, but Flins kept everything since they possessed immeasurable value to him. These were mementos, memories of your time together and the love you once shared, so Flins didn’t want to get rid of them. He would hold onto them and the memories they carried until his own end came one day.

Flins kept a sketchbook inside the box, as well. Having learned what a good artist he was, you sometimes made requests for him to draw you things, so he did using this sketchbook. However, aside from your requests, there were also his personal sketches in there. Drawings of you that he made in secret to capture your essence in a particular moment for him to look back on later. Since time eroded his memory of your face, Flins looked back on these sketches to recall the details of your visage. The book contained drawings of you at various stages of your life, from your youth to your older years, and each one was as beautiful as the next in his eyes. Looking at them made him feel grateful that you chose to spend your life with him and reaffirmed his conviction to honor your memory.

Flins continued to wear the ring from your marriage long after your passing. Whenever visitors to Paha Isle saw him carrying a bouquet of your favorite flowers and inquired where he was going, he replied that he was going to see his wife and invited them to come along to meet you. The sight of your grave stopped the nosy visitors from asking too many questions for fear of picking at his old wounds, just as Flins intended. However, if the visitor expressed curiosity about you, then he shared your story with them while gazing at your name engraved into the tombstone with softness and longing in his eyes.

In the decades following your passing, a new folk tale emerged in Nod-Krai. Nobody knew where it came from or when it first appeared, but it was a bittersweet story about a kind human whose love filled the longtime emptiness inside a lonely lantern fae, even though their union was not meant to last.

🟡Illuga🟡

Illuga knew you were a capable and skilled Ratnik. He’s seen firsthand how you held your own against the Wild Hunt monsters, and you contributed a lot to the team with suggestions for how to improve his plans and taking care of the others. He admired your determination to face the horrific abyssal threat to protect the innocents since he harbored the same desire. However, it was precisely because he understood the frustration of sitting on the sidelines while watching your comrades risk life and limb on the battlefield that he couldn’t bring himself to tell you to quit the Nightmare Orioles.

Illuga wanted more than anything for you to be safe and happy. He wanted to come home after a difficult mission and be greeted by the sight of your gentle smile and warm embrace to soothe the chill and exhaustion shrouding his very being. You sometimes compared him to the sun due to his warm and bright personality, but to Illuga, you were the real ray of sunlight. You were his light in the dark, his home, his joy in a bleak world wrought with death and heartache. You gave him tentative hope that he could build a future with you and start a family again despite having lost everything once before.

Illuga had largely moved on from the traumatic experiences that haunted him for most of his early life, but he could never forget the loss of his parents, his home, his childhood, and countless comrades among the Lightkeepers. Although his nightmares of those times had lessened, they occasionally returned and even mocked him with images of your death, causing him to wake up in a cold sweat and desperately search for you to make sure you were okay. The sight of you sleeping peacefully beside him soothed the panic and frantic beating of his heart, reassuring Illuga that you were safe and sound in bed with him.

He was painfully aware of how easy it was to lose those he cared about to the Wild Hunt, which is why he hated taking you along on missions. The mere thought of losing you scared Illuga more than he could put into words. Although he knew you were a capable Ratnik, it didn’t eliminate the danger to your life every time you fought the Hunt, and every time you geared up to head into battle, Illuga had to resist the urge to tell you to stay home where it was safe. Not because he doubted your abilities, but because he feared that the happiness he finally attained after years of terror would disappear if something happened to you.

When news of a sudden Wild Hunt attack reached Piramida, there was little time to prepare. The wave of monsters was huge, so it was all hands on deck. Dread and worry settled deep in Illuga’s stomach as they usually did whenever he had to take you along on dangerous missions, but he forced himself to trust in your abilities and told you to be careful and stick close to him so he could protect you if necessary.

The battle itself was chaotic. The horde of enemies seemed endless, and communications with other squads were sporadic, with some ceasing to respond entirely. It took all Illuga had to direct his squad to fight back the monsters while ensuring his teammates came out alive, even if injured. Somewhere in the chaos of the fight, he lost track of you, but Illuga couldn’t afford to abandon his post to look for you. Too many lives hinged on him as the leader, so all he could do was keep an eye out for you and pray you were alright.

Eventually, the Lightkeepers were able to defeat the wave of Wild Hunt and secured victory, but the aftermath was gruesome. Many Ratniki were injured, and many others had lost their lives. Illuga did his best to tend to the heavily wounded until the medics arrived, but his thoughts kept drifting back to you and your whereabouts. He hadn’t seen you at all ever since you got separated from him, and the worry about your wellbeing ate him alive from the inside.

As soon as he was able, Illuga went off into the ravaged battlefield to look for you. He was exhausted and wounded, but he pushed himself on in a desperate search to make sure you were alright. He could not rest until he saw with his own eyes that you were okay. While scanning the bloodied ground littered with corpses of other Lightkeepers, he prayed that you were not among them and that you were resting or tending to the injured elsewhere.

His prayers crumbled into dust when he spotted your figure collapsed on the ground in the far corner of the field.

The sight halted his thoughts and made his blood run cold, but Illuga’s feet moved before his mind could catch up with reality. All he could think was “No, no, no,” while racing towards you and calling out your name. The possibility of you being dead was one he didn’t want to acknowledge, but when you didn’t stir or let out any signs of life at the sound of your name, the deathly stillness of your body formed a knot of dread in his stomach.

When Illuga finally knelt by your side, he saw ugly gashes tearing through your neck and torso. You lay in a pool of dark red blood—your blood, he realized with a sickened feeling, but he reached for you anyway, desperate to make sure you had some sign of life in you. A part of him knew that there was no way to survive injuries like yours, but Illuga refused to accept the reality of you being gone. It wasn’t until he felt your non-existent pulse and saw the far-away look in your cloudy eyes that something in him broke.

Illuga didn’t cry or scream. He just gently gathered you into his arms and cradled you against his chest while sitting in oppressive silence and blankly staring at your corpse.

---

In the days following the battle, you were buried alongside the other Ratniki who had lost their lives in that tragic fight. A funeral was held for all the fallen, followed by a feast in an attempt to cheer up those who lived to see another day. For once, you were not there to help Illuga with the cooking preparations or keep him company during the somber meal. Not that he had any appetite.

Illuga felt hollow inside, like a husk of his former self. He still kept himself together in public and acted like a responsible leader since life didn’t stop moving just because he lost his beloved. There were many things that still needed attention, like providing medical aid to the injured, securing the battlegrounds, keeping an eye out for more Wild Hunt activity, and much more. Illuga didn’t have the luxury to mourn you, but he found time to visit your grave nearly every day.

He brought flowers for the other fallen as well, but he lingered in front of your grave. To an onlooker, he appeared to be lost in thought, but deep inside, Illuga warred with feelings of guilt and self-loathing as he stared at the letters comprising your name carved into the tombstone.

He had failed you.

Illuga had promised both to you and himself that he would protect you, that he would do all he could to see you smile for another day, but he hadn’t kept his word. He should have been by your side during the battle to make sure you were safe. He should have looked for you sooner. If only he were stronger, then maybe he could have reached you in time before you—

Such ‘should haves’ and ‘what ifs’ haunted his waking thoughts during the day. At night, these thoughts manifested in the form of nightmares. It had been a while since Illuga had been tormented by dreams where he watched those he cared about die in front of his eyes and heard the horrifying whispers of the Hunt blaming him for failing to save them. Now, he saw you in those dreams, helpless to stop a monster from mauling you even as his hand desperately reached for you. Illuga would wake up from his own screams of your name, and find himself in a cold sweat with his arm outstretched towards your side of the bed. Where you once lay beside him at night was now only empty space, making the bed seem colder and bigger without you.

Illuga struggled to fall asleep after such nightmares, too tormented by the gruesome visions and feelings of guilt to get any rest, so he usually rose early when that happened. He was used to rising before you to make breakfast so you would wake up to a spread of your favorite dishes. It brought Illuga joy to see your eyes light up in delight and hear your praises when you tasted his cooking. Seeing you happy while enjoying something he made was all he wanted.

It wasn’t until he sat at the dining table that Illuga realized he had set out two plates out of habit instead of one. He looked across the table laden with your favorite foods towards the chair you usually occupied when eating together, but you were not there. You will never sit there again, never taste his cooking and tell him how delicious it was with a smile on your face, never be in his arms again.

The longing and anguish of this lonely reality finally hit Illuga hard, and he buried his face in his hands and wept. His shoulders shook with quiet sobs as he mourned your loss, and he stayed like that until the food had long grown cold.

Your death changed Illuga. The Lightkeepers who knew him said that Illuga turned cold after your passing. He didn’t become harsh or cruel, but simply less joyous. Like the life was sucked out of him. His kindness didn’t waver, but the warmth he once offered to those around him dimmed. But how could he have anything to give when it felt like his own world was plunged into darkness? Illuga went through the motions of life, leading, fighting, eating, and sleeping, but all of it felt as hollow as the void in his chest that had formed when you died.

He had once foolishly allowed himself to accept you into his heart and dream of starting a family with you. Not just the family he had among the Lightkeepers, but a real one where it was you and him happily living together in a world without the Wild Hunt. That naive dream had shattered into pieces, with only the ache of your absence serving as a memory of what could have been.

Eventually, Illuga will move on from your loss as he did with all the others. It will be a long and painful journey, but he understood that he couldn’t let the anguish of your loss diminish his will to fight and protect those who lived and would be born one day. He would work to become a bright fire that chases away the darkness of the Abyss, the warm sunlight that envelops and heals those lost in the coldness of despair; however, he would not let anyone get too close to him again. The pain of losing those he loved over and over wore away at him, so he resolved to keep others at a distance for fear of hurting again.

The nightmares where he watches you and his family die never let him forget that he is too weak to protect those he loves, so if he can’t protect what matters most to him, then he does not deserve to have it at all.

🩷Durin🩷

Durin first met you during a bard’s performance at the central plaza. Like him, you stood alone on the outskirts of the crowd, looking like you didn’t fit in among the audience. Perhaps sensing a kindred spirit in you, or perhaps enchanted by your beauty, Durin made the brave decision to approach you and try to make friends so you wouldn’t look so alone. That was how he and you became fast friends.

It wasn’t until later that Durin found out you were afflicted with an incurable illness that kept you bedridden for most of your life, so as a result, you had few friends in Mondstadt. He knew very well how lonely it was to be isolated from the world, watching others from the sidelines and being unable to join in the fun, which is why Durin resolved to be the best friend he could be for you, so you wouldn’t feel lonely ever again.

He introduced you to Klee, who invited you to go fish blasting, which resulted in all three of you sitting in the detention room while getting scolded by Jean. Durin took you to The Cat’s Tail, where you got to try one of Diona’s drinks and where he taught you how to play TCG until the cats chased him out. He bought you flowers from Flora’s shop to liven up your home, accompanied you every time you left the city to ensure you were safe, and helped you carry groceries after shopping.

Days with you were simple but fun, and Durin caught himself looking forward to spending time with you. In fact, he often thought of you when you weren’t together, and his chest filled with both warmth and nervousness whenever he saw you, which was accompanied by a wagging of his tail. Being around you made Durin’s heart flutter in a strange way, especially when you smiled at him, and he wanted to explore that feeling to know what it was.

Those happy days came to an abrupt end when your illness took a turn for the worse. You grew too weak to leave the house, so Durin came over to keep you company nearly every day. On days when you felt better, he read books with you, taught you how to make origami, and told you about his day. Durin shared everything he could with you because he wanted you to feel like you were a part of his world, even if you couldn’t experience the activities together.

On days when your illness worsened, and you lay delirious in bed, Durin did his best to take care of you. He helped you eat, changed the wet cloth on your forehead when your fever ran high, and ran to get Barbara when you had difficulty breathing. Seeing you so weakened filled Durin with anxiety and worry about your health, but he held out hope that you would get better. He desperately wanted you to recover so you could go back to having fun together, which is why, during one of your lucid days, he made a promise with you. He promised to go to the next Windblume Festival with you. It would be his first time attending Windblume, and it would be your first time going there with a friend. It seemed like the perfect opportunity for both of you to experience the true magic of a festival together. His gentle smile widened when you agreed, and his wings gave a small flutter of excitement as he imagined what attending Windblume with you would be like. You were still sick, but Durin wanted to believe that by the time the festival rolled around, you would recover.

However, the days when your health worsened increased in frequency until you hardly responded to him anymore. Durin still tried to wear a smile around you so as not to worry you, but deep down, he was wracked with panic and fear. He didn’t want to lose you. Ever since he met you, he had discovered a new type of happiness and affection he’s never felt before. You made his heart flutter, but also made his chest feel all warm and fuzzy inside. You didn’t shy away from his draconic traits but called them beautiful. You showed him kindness and acceptance when others looked at him with wariness, so it was small wonder that you took up a very special place in his heart. The thought of losing the warmth and light that you introduced into his life filled him with cold dread.

Durin feared losing you, so he did all he could to search for a cure. He scoured Mondstadt’s library with Lisa’s help for any records of your illness, and even asked Albedo and Alice for help. However, there were limits to what medicine, alchemy, and magic could do against incurable illnesses, so despite his efforts, Durin was left with no option except to watch you slowly waste away. Being unable to help you filled him with frustration at his own helplessness, but also anxiety and guilt since your illness made you suffer while all he could do was fetch Barbara to ease your symptoms. A part of him sensed that you might never recover, but the thought was so sad that he didn’t want to dwell on it.

The culmination of his worst fears came on the night when Barbara left your room with a grim look on her face. She told Durin that you didn’t have much time left and might not even make it until morning. The words embedded in Durin’s heart like shards of glass. He didn’t want to believe that Barbara’s prognosis could be true, but as he entered your room and checked on your condition, the pallor in your face and your shallow breaths all pointed to that cruel reality.

That night, Durin stayed by your bedside. He held your hand in both of his and urged you to hold on and stay with him. There were still so many things you didn’t get to see and do. You were supposed to finish that fairytale you started together, see how he improved at cooking your favorite dish, and go to the Windblume Festival together like you promised. However, no matter how much he talked, you didn’t seem to hear him. Even when he called your name, you didn’t open your eyes to look at him.

Your unresponsiveness broke something in Durin. A sob wrenched from him, and he pressed your hand against his cheek, which had grown wet with tears. His voice cracked with emotion as he begged you not to leave him alone. He had come to care for you so much, had hoped to learn how to be human from you, and wished to forge so many more memories with you. He had just made his first real friend in Mondstadt; you couldn’t leave him just like that. Please don’t leave him alone, please don’t die…

Durin stayed like that until he felt your hand grow limp in his and your breaths fall quiet. The stillness radiating from you filled Durin with dread. He called your name and gently shook you by the shoulder, hoping that you would respond with something, even a cough or a flutter of your eyes. However, you were completely still.

In a panic, Durin called on Albedo for help, but when the alchemist arrived, he somberly told Durin that there was nothing he could do. You had departed this world. The reality of your death sent a surge of grief crashing over Durin, and he spent the night crying by your bedside and holding your hand until all warmth left it. Albedo stayed with Durin and consoled him, while the latter grieved the loss of a friend and his first love.

The days that followed your passing were like a blur for Durin. He was filled with grief and anguish, but also an emptiness that felt like a bottomless chasm that couldn’t be filled. He suspected that you had once filled that space, but now that you were gone, so was that part of him.

Your funeral passed by quietly. There weren’t many in attendance since you didn’t get to make many friends, but Durin made paper versions of you and him holding hands, which he placed beside your grave. He later added Klee, Albedo, Jean, and a few other townsfolk you had been on good terms with to prove that you were known and remembered by many others.

Much like what he did for his mother, Durin also wrote you letters. He wanted you to know how his life was going, even if you were no longer able to see it for yourself. Even if you were unlikely to ever read them, it brought him solace to at least pretend you could; to imagine that his words and feelings could reach you, wherever you were.

His story with you didn’t have a happy ending, but maybe he could forge one with pen and paper, much like his mother did for the original Durin…

---

Dear ___,

Lots happened in the past few weeks. I finally learned how to cook meat. It still came out overcooked and a little charred around the edges, but at least it’s edible now! Maybe after more practice, I can try making that dish you really liked. I’ll try as many times as it takes until it comes out right.

Last week, I finished reading Beauty and the Beast. It reminded me a little bit of us and how you accepted me despite my horns and wings. You always treated me as a good friend and an actual person instead of a wicked dragon, which made me happy.

To me, you have always been a kind and gentle person like the Beauty from the fairytale, which is why I want to write a story with you as the protagonist. I’m still figuring out the details, but it will be a story about a lonely dragon that befriends a kind human girl. They go on many adventures together, explore the world, and go to a festival where they play games and watch fireworks.

…I know you never got to go to Windblume with a friend or do any of those things you told me you wanted to do. I don’t have the power to create magical stories like my mom, but I want to give you a life where you can do all those things you wished you could, even if it’s just in a fictional story. I was born from a similar wish once, so I now understand what my mother felt when writing Simulanka. I’m not a good storyteller like her yet, but I’ll work hard to build a world that you would have loved to live in.

I miss you. I wish I could see you again and tell you that I really like you, but I think you probably knew. Even if I never see you again, I hope that you are doing well, wherever you are, and that you’re happy. That’s the most important thing.

Your friend,

Durin

🔷Lohen🔷

Your parents disapproved of your relationship with Lohen. Being the only daughter of a wealthy merchant, they believed you deserved better than a young knight, but Lohen reassured them that he would do all he could to keep you safe and happy. He would protect you with his life, shielding you from harm the same way he shielded his men during battle. It was not a promise he made lightly.

True to his word, Lohen kept track of any suspicious individuals around your person, thwarted the plans of anyone who was a threat to you or your family, and occasionally served as your bodyguard when you left Dornman Port. His capabilities were undeniable, which assuaged your parents, but even he was only human. There was a limit to how much he could do by himself.

Lohen thought he had completely eliminated a group of bandits that had taken up residence at Dornman Port, but there were a few stragglers he had missed. He only found out about them when your parents came to the Knights of Favonius in distress with a letter from the bandits demanding a ransom. They had taken you captive and wanted to exchange your life for a hefty sum of your parents’ money.

The scheme was laughably simple-minded, but the knowledge that you were kidnapped under his protection ate away at Lohen. Not only had he missed a few criminals, but they had laid a hand on his woman in a moment of his carelessness and were now holding her hostage. Lohen knew all too well the feelings of powerlessness and fear that came with being kidnapped, so he itched to rush to your rescue and get you back to spare you further suffering.

When the knights were discussing a plan of action for your rescue, Lohen volunteered to go on a solo mission. He reasoned that a group of knights would draw too much attention and put the bandits on alert, which could potentially put you at greater risk. A single knight will appear less of a threat and make them liable to underestimating their opponent, plus it would make infiltrating their hideout easier. As it so happens, Lohen was well-suited for such a mission.

Convinced by the explanation, Varka gave Lohen the green light to head out first while he assembled reinforcements to help with capturing the crooks. Wasting no time, Lohen set out for the bandits’ hideout in the woods, having already tracked one of them there before. It took him only a few minutes to get to the rundown house.

Spotting a couple of grunts patrolling the perimeter, a manic gleam lit up Lohen’s eyes as he made quick work of them before silently entering the building. Just a little more, and you will soon be back in his arms, most likely fussing over his injuries the way you usually did, while he laughed without a care in the world. Ah, but maybe you will be shaken up from being kidnapped? In that case, he may need to make a plan for how to soothe you.

As Lohen advanced deeper into the hideout, sticking to shadowed corners and avoiding creaky floorboards, he thought about what he should do after saving you. Perhaps he should sneak you out of your house after you reunite with your parents and take you to The Cat’s Tail? You could pet the cats while he ordered you a warm meal since he knew how much you liked animals. If the cats don’t do the trick, then maybe he could distract you with some kisses and harmless pranks before taking you stargazing at Starsnatch Cliff—

“What do you mean she’s dead?”

The sound of an agitated voice on the other side of a door snapped Lohen out of his fantasies.

…What?

Lohen’s focus immediately sharpened on the conversation happening in the small room just beyond the decaying door. Peering through a crack in the old wood, he counted four men gathered around a familiar figure. There you were, sitting limply on the floor with a burly bandit crudely holding you by the hair. Blood dripped from your temple, marring one side of your face dark red and matting strands of hair to your cheek.

The sight made Lohen’s blood run cold.

The burly man appeared distressed. “It wasn’t on purpose!” he protested. “She was just struggling too much and almost got me in the eye, so I gave her a good whack to knock her out! I didn’t think it would kill her!”

“How are we supposed to get the money now?! Goddamnit! You complete moron!”

By then, Lohen had tuned out the scuffle happening between the bandits. For once, his sharp mind had gone completely blank as the words “She’s dead” and the sight of your limp body registered in his brain.

You were dead. That bandit had killed you.

He was too late.

As realization sank in, for a brief instant, a sharp, piercing anguish lanced through Lohen that almost made him stumble. However, it was quickly overshadowed by overwhelming fury.

His body moved before his mind could catch up. In a blur of movement, Lohen kicked down the door, startling the bandits gathered around your lifeless body. However, he gave them no time to react before charging at them with his dagger drawn and crossbow at the ready. The room filled with the bandits’ screams and the wet sounds of blood spraying the walls and innards spilling across the floor. Lohen’s attacks were quick, sharp, and packed with enough power to shatter bone. Usually, he prioritized efficiency, but this time, it was all about venting his emotions and getting revenge.

In less than a minute, Lohen took down three of the crooks, however the burly one—your killer—had escaped the room in the chaos. Lohen wouldn’t let him get away, even if it cost him his life. He had that bandit’s image burned into his memory and could hear the thuds of his footsteps retreating towards the house’s exit, but he didn’t give chase immediately. Instead, he approached you and turned your body over to check for signs of life.

No pulse. No breathing. No reaction when he cupped your cheek and left a smear of red where his thumb brushed along the skin.

Just stillness and silence.

Lohen’s hand curled into a fist, the leather creaking with the force of his grip as he slowly stood. He gazed at your body for a long moment, his expression one of cold, murderous anger, while his eyes carried a heavy sadness, before he picked up his lance and bolted out of the room to hunt down your killer.

The man could not outrun or outsmart the Vice Captain of the Fifth Company. Lohen easily caught up to him. A part of him wished to brutally smash the cowering man’s head in, but he refrained and settled for torturing him for information on their operations, networks, and how they kidnapped you. Once the bandit spilled everything, only then did Lohen end his life.

With the bandits all eliminated, Lohen made his way back to the room you were in, his footfalls heavy, but the weight pressing down on his chest was heavier still. He had gotten his revenge and killed the bandits, but it didn’t make him feel better. All he felt was grief since nothing he did would ever bring you back.

With great care, he scooped you up into his arms and felt his heart lurch at the way your head lolled to the side lifelessly. As he carried you out of the house, a single tear cut through the blood splattered across his cheek, leaving behind a smudged trail.

When the Knights of Favonius arrived with reinforcements, they bore witness to Lohen emerging from the rundown building, drenched in blood and carrying your lifeless form in his arms. He appeared calm, but many knights stepped aside in unease at the vacant look in their Vice Captain’s eyes. There was no smug smirk of victory or the usual manic gleam in his eyes. There was only emptiness.

Lohen carried you all the way back to Dornman Port. He said nothing when your parents stared in horror at your corpse, nor tried to defend himself when they berated him in a grief-stricken frenzy for letting their daughter die. He simply bowed his head and stared at the ground, letting their barbed words wash over him because he knew he deserved it. He had made a promise to protect you, but your limp form in his arms was physical proof of his failure to keep it.

The following days passed by in a blur. There was a report to make about the information he got out of the bandit and another stronghold to eliminate, Jean and Varka lectured him about his conduct during your rescue, your funeral came and went… life moved on, even though you were gone, but the world felt devoid of all color.

On quieter days, Lohen visited your grave with a stalk of your favorite flower. He stood in front of it in pensive silence, though whenever someone came to talk to him, he would give them his usual laidback smile and casual response. Lohen never showed what he felt regarding your death, didn’t let others see how it hurt him, since doing so would be showing a weakness. So, he carried himself with the same laidback ease as if nothing was wrong. However, those who knew him could tell that he was quieter and less rebellious now. Your passing had a significant impact on Lohen, even if he tried to hide it.

For instance, Lohen no longer sought fights for the thrill of battle and the victorious feeling of being alive. He still searched for strong opponents to grow stronger, but each injury he received reminded him that while he was alive, you were no longer in this world to help him patch up his wounds.

He also threw himself into his work. Lohen needed to feel like he wasn’t useless, that he wasn’t so careless as to have let his lover be kidnapped and killed. He trained, patrolled the streets, sniffed out monsters and crooks, and dealt with them before they could pose a threat, and even wrote his own reports. If he had taken such preventative measures earlier, then you would be alive right now and scolding him for getting injured during his monster cleanup operations, but now every injury he sustained was his punishment for not being better.

Your death left a mark on Lohen. It was something he could never quite get over, no matter how many years passed since he believed that you wouldn’t have gotten kidnapped and subsequently killed if he had been more vigilant and prudent in eliminating threats. All he could do to try to make up for his failure was to grow stronger and become better. It wouldn’t bring you back—nothing ever will—but Lohen could never feel content returning to his old way of life while knowing it had contributed to you losing your life. So, he resolved to improve and become better, to be the man he believed you deserved to have from the start.

Maybe if he did that, then his world would regain some of the colors you took with you when you died…

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