Chapter Text
Frozen devotion crumbled beneath the coffin
Tightly woven wings, clipped by the last edict
As warm light dims between wounded palms
He holds onto the last string of hope
Having heard of worn-out prayers and wailing pleas for salvation
.
He shall answer
He shall bestow
The azure flame to keep one safe
Raging blaze incinerating foes away
A blinding light in the height of the Parade of the Damned
.
.
[how does a fallen star endure?]
Letting out an almost inaudible sigh, Varka mindlessly gazes at moving scenery across from him. Endless plains of white have been serving them for the past few days, as the sky and the land seem to merge on the horizon.
A beautiful, yet lonesome sight.
The huge alpha eventually finds his listless pondering broken by the sound of the door opening and closing.
“You look terribly sullen.”
Upon hearing the remark, Varka puts on a big grin as he turns his head towards his new companion.
“Am I?”
His boisterous laugh follows, echoing within the deserted lounge compartment. His companion refuses to indulge in a chuckle as manners might command— she can’t be fooled by such an act, and soon, silence descends between them.
“You’ve been strangely subdued ever since we arrived in Nod-Krai.” She eventually says, standing right next to him.
“Hmm, did I?” Varka returns the question as a faint scent of milk, spice, and a light, fresh citrus crispness permeates between them.
“Varka.”
Another laugh escapes the Grand Master, though it’s much gentler and genuine. “I suppose this is how a child thought they could hide from their elder, huh?”
“A child is far more honest about their worries, for a start.” Nicole scolds good-naturedly as she too, casts her gaze towards the border of Snezhnaya. “Though admittedly, I would’ve been fooled had I not seen you brooding just now.”
“Ouch.” Varka fakes a dramatic reaction. “Isn’t brooding a little bit too much, Lady Nicole? I’m going to pass my thirties soon, you know.” He genially complains.
“The more reason to be concerned,” Nicole answers succinctly. “When else would you have an angel to listen to your woes, Grand Master?”
“Truly a rare blessing.” Varka nods along.
“So?”
“You are unusually firm about this, Lady Nicole…”
“Let’s just say that I’m a nosy lady.” Nicole turns, her gaze fixated on the taller male beside her. “Are you worried about Snezhnaya?”
Varka chuckles. “I’m not so idle as to worry about other nations’ affairs, but it’s an entirely different thing if it’s going to affect people of Mondstadt. It’s complicated, I guess.”
“How so?”
The alpha’s gaze changes imperceptibly as he briefly casts his gaze to the side. “It’s only been two to three generations since we abolished the nobility hierarchy. I fear the wound has yet to heal fully for most Mondstadtian.”
Nicole puts her hand on her chin and ponders. “You fear the nobles of Snezhnaya exhibit the same shameful actions worthy of another riot.”
“Whoa, I might be persecuted if you put it that way.” Varka’s laugh swiftly subsides into a somber chuckle. “You’ve seen it yourself, Lady Nicole. Nod-Krai is…” He trails off.
“Nod-Krai rubbed you the wrong way.” Nicole surmises. “I thought you were charmed by its danger and freedom, Grand Master.”
“For myself? Sure. But for my people? Ehh.” Varka waves his hand once. “It’d have been a more dangerous place had it not for the Lightkeepers— And I’m currently escorting my brothers and sisters in arms with a possible cross-nation mate match in mind, Lady Nicole. I don’t think I can rest well if I am to leave them on such a foreign land like this.”
“There are delegations from other nations too.” Nicole points out. “Snezhnayan isn’t the only option, and Snezhnograd might be a much better place.”
“But the ratio is off considering we’re coming into their nation instead of the other way around.” Varka idly points out. “Perhaps it’s better if their potential mate follows us back to Mondstadt later on. The warm spring and gentle wind are bound to be more appealing, right?”
“I don’t think your worry is entirely baseless, but I believe you should rest a little easier.” Nicole smiles. “Otherwise, Barbatos wouldn’t have allowed his precious children to attend the triennial Grand Balls in Snezhnaya like that.”
“Ven— Barbatos isn’t the type to do such a thing in the first place— unless it’s truly a perilous one.” Varka remarks. “Even then, He’d rather bless them Himself than restrict them according to His wishes.”
“He’s the Archon of Freedom and thus led his nation and people by the same principle.” Nicole nods.
“And He sent me— even asked for your guidance this time. This level of combination has never been done on previous Grand Balls in other nations.”
“He knew I was idling in Hexenzirkel and thus, he invited me— so nicely at that, how could I reject it?” Nicole laughs melodiously. “If anything, I believe it’s you who he’s trying to nudge.”
“Me?” Varka bewilderedly points at himself.
“As much as Barbatos is fond of your company, he must’ve wished for you to use this chance to find a mate of your own— a solid anchor so the wind won’t blow you too far, too much.” The angel tilts her head innocently. “That’s the utmost pleasure bequeathed to you all, isn’t it? The right to love and be loved by a mate, starting a life and sharing a journey until the end of it.”
“Wow, aren’t you a romantic at heart, Lady Nicole?”
“On top of finding a mate, I believe your dispatch is to diffuse the diplomatic strain too.” Nicole drawls with a light laugh. “Isn’t high-wire events your forte, Grand Master?”
“Any insider tips for that, Lady Nicole?” Varka grins.
“Hmm…” Nicole taps the windowsill playfully. “There are actually two noble courts in Snezhnaya. One of fae and one of humans, though they look united at the front. Both are quite a handful and tricky to handle, but you’ll do well regardless.”
Nicole’s gaze changes into something more otherworldly, more angel-like than the human shape she’s currently donning as she looks at the alpha. “Barbatos wouldn’t have approved of your other mission if he wasn’t confident in your abilities, would he?” She smiles— a little mischievous, a little mysterious. “The precious child of the North Wind, the Knight of Boreas and the beloved Grand Master, the Guardian of Mondstadt.”
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Lady Nicole.” An innocent, toothy grin is etched on Varka’s face.
“We’re here to attend the Grand Balls and mend the diplomacy between Mondstadt and Snezhnaya, remember?”
Outskirts of the Zapolyarny Palace,
11.11 AM
“Kyryll!”
Flins halts his pace and turns at the familiar voice, quietly waiting for his fellow workmate to catch up to him. He tilts his head in a wordless question, briefly assessing the dark-haired male’s appearance. Clad in the Harbinger’s heavy coat and a black, military-like uniform with gold chains and accessories befitting their high stature, Wriothesley looks far more dapper than his usual getup.
“Finally found you.” Wriothesley sighs exasperatedly as the alpha stops in front of him.
“Oh my, to what do I owe the pleasure of having the Tenth’s personal attention like this?” Flins says with a joyous smile on his face.
“Personal attention my ass. If you’re going to bail, at least let me in on it too.” Wriothesley huffs. He snaps his fingers, and soon enough, a cryo puppy husky forms out of thin air to their left.
Flins raises his eyebrow in half-curiosity, half-surprise at the sight. He watches the puppy bark once— as if telling them it has understood its assignment and scurries away, following the path the alpha has just come in.
“What a marvelous creation,” Flins remarks as he shifts his focus back to the alpha.
“A little trick I recently picked up from Childe. Neat, eh?” Wriothesley grins wolfishly.
Flins blinks at the mention of their current youngest, belatedly remembering a little hydro whale that sometimes swims freely around their lounge. “How long does it last?” He asks curiously.
“Until it fulfills its duty.” Wriothesley shrugs. “I still have yet to refine it, so it’s still impossible for a long-term task. It’s draining my energy by a lot.”
“Incredible.” Flins compliments earnestly. “You’re truly gifted, Wriothesley. I’m sure it won’t be long before you master it completely.”
“Ey, I’m not Childe.” Wriothesley waves off the praise. “Though I won’t refuse some help for the refining. Combining it with some electro bounds to make it last— Wait, this isn’t what I’m here for.” He frowns and points towards the omega. “You, are not getting away with it this time.”
“How unfortunate,” Flins remarks with a dismayed tone, though mischief still mars his face. “Won’t you let me go just this once, Wriothesley? In the name of our long-standing friendship?”
“I would, if my unit’s fund isn’t on the line this time. That damn Pantalone.” Wriothesley grumbles under his breath. “If you’d told me beforehand, I would have made myself scarce from the Glupov before that guy could get a hold of me.”
“An unintentional miss, I assure.” Flins sighs softly.
“Regardless, it’s too late now, and you’re coming with me.” Wriothesley responds with a shake of his head. Hurried footsteps gradually get clearer and louder between excited barks. “We’ve been tasked to receive Mondstadt’s delegation and they’ll arrive soon.”
“How curious. Having the Tenth personally greeting them is enough grace, is it not? Why would a humble being like me be needed there?” There’s a genial smile on Flins’ face, but his voice is unmistakably sharp and cold.
“Because it’s been dictated that two Harbingers are to formally welcome and escort each delegation.” Wriothesley appeases with his hands, sensing the instant displeasure at his explanation. “Or as Pantalone conveyed and I quoted,” He clears his throat and mimics their other coworker’s tone, “The Tenth and the representative of the royal fae court also do— As long as you are there to do your job, Flins.”
The person in question frowns in genuine distaste. “That’s even worse.”
“Not my idea, not my liking either.” The dark-haired alpha shrugs. “Pantalone also offered an extra fund for the Lightkeepers to bait you, so I advise taking the carrot since we’re forced to do it anyway.”
“My Lord!”
Soon enough, several Fatui agents stand to their left, bowing respectfully while carrying jewelry boxes, carefully packed clothes, along with a Harbinger outer coat.
Wriothesley chuckles as he watches a distasteful, reluctant look briefly cross the other’s face. “Come on. The faster we finish this, the faster we’re let go. Just pick them up, have some basic pleasantries, and drop them off at their assigned building.”
“I suppose your words have some merit.” Flins gives up as he beckons his agents to give him his set of attire. “Though I must leave the pleasantries part to your expertise, Wriothesley. I’m afraid I have yet to read the delegation’s members list.”
“I’ll handle that.” Wriothesley nods. “Though I’ll still ask someone to fetch it for you to review on our way there. Do you need any help with your hair?”
“Thank you, but I can manage. Can’t incite someone’s jealous wrath, can we?” Flins says with a teasing smirk.
Wriothesley snorts. “I have no idea who you are talking about.”
“Right, apology,” Flins says pleasantly. “It’s you who isn’t above such petty jealousy, is it not?”
The alpha rolls his eyes, though wisely not responding to the bait any further. “Tick-tock, Kyryll. I’d rather not have my head bitten off by that bat.”
“What a sight would it be, no?”
“Shall I introduce you as the Sixth then?”
“That’s a foul, my friend,” Flins says as he finally lets himself be led to a nearby empty room to change, his lamp jostling on his hips.
“What do we have here…” Flins hums as he flips through Mondstadt’s delegation list he has just been handed. His eyebrow naturally rises with each page he skims over. “Almost thirty people, good gracious. This is far the largest delegation among the others, is it not?”
“Yeah, followed by Natlan. Liyue sent twenty, Sumeru sent twenty-two, Inazuma sent fifteen, Fontaine sent twenty, and Natlan sent twenty-three.” Wriothesley elaborates.
“That’s far more than I predicted,” Flins remarks as he does a mental calculation. “A hundred and twenty-eight. What an astounding number.”
“You can imagine the logistical nightmare.” Wriothesley shrugs. “Signora, Pantalone and Pulcinella are one push away from going boom.”
Flins chuckles at the description of their tense, overworked workmates. “I briefly heard that the Regrator spared no expense for this triennial event.”
“Because he is. This is why you should attend the meeting once in a while.” Wriothesley scolds. “Childe is even more diligent than you, and you’re practically our senior.”
“But surely you’ll be willing to fill in what this dear senior of yours has missed, won’t you?” Flins coaxes with an innocent, expectant look. “You know very well that I simply did not have the time to attend so many important meetings.” He touches his cheek, slightly cocking his head in a troubled gesture.
Wriothesley snorts at the act. “What a roundabout way to say that you purposefully skipped them.”
“Good grief. I’m terribly hurt, Wriothesley. Why do you think so poorly of me?” Flins touches his chest, feigning a pained look.
The dark-haired male across from him gives him a look. “One of these days, Pulcinella is going to send Columbina to drag you and you know how persistent she can be.”
“Sending such a young lady to keep an old, boring me in line? How ghastly.”
“That young lady was also the first ever to give Arlecchino a heart attack.” Wriothesley points out, before backtracking. “Wait, never mind. She is your playmate in that regard.”
Flins only gives the alpha another smile in response. “Now that I think about it, is that why Pantalone is so willing to dangle— as you said, a thick carrot for me?”
“Yeah. That guy wants to flaunt Snezhnaya’s wealth and power and firmly establish Her Majesty’s venerable grace, so he goes all out for every littlest thing— including the manpower. The expense for the premiere ball alone exceeds a year of Dottore’s funds.” Wriothesley clucks his tongue. “It’s definitely the greatest and grandest one for this cycle.”
“Thus, my attendance is an absolute.” Flins exhales softly. “How troublesome.”
“At least we are assigned to the less troublesome delegations— Mondstadt and Fontaine.” Wriothesley says, before a briefly troubled look crosses his face. “Childe has Liyue with Signora and Natlan with Capitano.”
An uncharacteristically flabbergasted expression crosses the fae’s face. “You must be pulling on my legs, Wriothesley.”
“I wish I were.” The dark-haired alpha grimaces.
Flins’ face mirrors the younger alpha, completely displeased.
“But surely, if Childe is occupied somewhere else, they can’t possibly force him to return, right?”
“That… is correct.” Flins drawls, sensing that the alpha is implying something else.
“So, let’s say, if someone of a higher standing dispatches him for an urgent task…”
“My, it’s completely slipped my mind,” Flins responds in tandem, clapping his hands once. “I have a terribly pressing matter to address in Nod-Krai that needs Childe’s expertise. With the events going in full swing soon, the resources will be centralized in Snezhnograd and I need someone responsible and fast to ensure the Lightkeepers have everything they need, especially in case an emergency arises.” He nods. “Childe needs to leave in…” He gives a questioning look.
“Tomorrow— or tonight.” Wriothesley helps. “And he won’t be able to come back until four or five days later. Thus he won’t be available since Liyue’s delegation will arrive in two days, while Natlan’s in three.”
“Indeed he is.” Flins nods. “I feel bad for the inconvenience I caused. Therefore, I will take over Childe’s escorting task.”
“I can help to stand in for Natlan. I have some free time on my hands.” Wriothesley adds with a shrug.
Flins gives the younger alpha a questioning look. “Are you sure you want to handle Natlan with Capitano, Wriothesley?”
Wriothesley gives him a wolfish grin. “Fingers crossed, Kyryll.”
“Let’s not aggravate things too much when things have barely begun.” Flins speaks mildly. “I’ll handle Capitano. Signora’s always been more agreeable with you around anyway.”
“That’s because I always treat her like a proper gentleman.” Wriothesley charmingly smiles.
“More like you treat her like an older sister and she’s quite flattered by it.”
“Her viciousness is adorable in its own way, you know.”
Flins shakes his head lightly in fond exasperation. “Now that it’s all settled, do you happen to have a pen on you, Wriothesley?”
.
In less than ten minutes, Flins has repurposed the back of the first page of the list as an urgent mission request and acknowledgement, and swiftly sent an agent back to Glupov with it while they continue their journey to the main gate of Snezhnograd.
“Thanks.” Wriothesley says.
“Whatever for?” Flins asks with a small smile. “We both are fond of our youngest and more or less hold the same opinion about those two.”
“That kid is a trouble magnet all around.” Wriothesley shakes his head. “He always attracts the troublesome ones who parade as an innocuous sheep.”
“That’s quite a ridiculous but unfortunately apt description.” Flins muses. “It’s only natural that with Childe’s strength and ability, he’d attract equally, if not stronger, gentlemen.”
“Like how you attracted troublesome fellows too?” Wriothesley playfully jabs.
“No comment on that,” Flins responds with a serene-looking smile. “But in retrospect, aren’t we all wolves in sheep's clothing?”
“Me?” Wriothesley mimics the fae’s exaggerated exclamation earlier. “I’m a gentleman through and through.”
“Who am I to argue the Tenth’s claim?” Flins wisely says. “More importantly, Wriothesley.”
“Yes?”
“I forgot to read the name of those in charge of Mondstadt’s delegation.”
Two noble courts, seemingly united as one on the surface.
Varka silently sips his warm tea, idly missing the taste of beer on his tongue.
He has gleaned that much when they made a stop in Nod-Krai— that these two different circles exist, clash internally, and generally aren’t on good terms. Interestingly, they tolerate each other enough to maintain peace and order to uphold such a united image to the Snezhnayan. The mask still has its fine cracks though, considering such distinctions exist among the top informants.
Quite different from the old intel Mondstadt had about Snezhnaya, but he has no choice but to believe it. Especially when one of said informants is the leader of the Northern Intelligence Network, Nefer.
The exceptionally beautiful alpha is as formidable as Diluc has described to him, but that quality of hers also assures him of her information networks. After some exchanges here and there, he has pretty much caught up on the latest news and information about Snezhnaya.
Though she’s strangely mum about some aspects of Nod-Krai— specifically, the Lightkeepers.
The Lightkeepers, an independent organization that acts as the frontliners against the Wild Hunts, fighting the Abyss abominations with their lives on the line. Due to their vigilance, they make Nod-Krai much, much safer for travelers and its inhabitants, and thus, exercising a degree of influence within Nasha Town just below the Voynich Guild’s.
Naturally, this kind of force requires funding.
While Nefer relayed that all Ratniki are volunteers and the townspeople also help to provide the Lightkeepers, the wilds aren’t kind enough for such innocent ideals. Just like his own knights, the Ratniki must’ve needed supplies. Self-aid kits, potions, armor, and decent weapons— these are the basic must-haves to ensure one’s survivability against those monsters.
And they don’t come cheap.
This still excludes the more communal needs— shelters, major and minor check-in points that need their own supplies, emergency kits, among other things. These Ratniki also receive a monthly payment, though the sum is perhaps modest.
While the Lightkeepers is initially established partly due to Tsaritsa’s edict, She has long stopped paying attention to Nod-Krai after granting it a degree of autonomy, and under such a harsh environment and endless rough fights with the Wild Hunt, the organization is naturally crippled and weakened as years go by.
But things suddenly changed a few decades ago.
Based on his personal findings, the quality of life (and work) for the Lightkeepers abruptly improved (by a lot). Better shelters. More check-in points. All Ratniki are much better equipped. Plenty of high-quality supplies of potions and medicines. Well-crafted and more resilient weapons and defensive tools.
These measures naturally increase the Ratniki’s survivability by at least seventy percent and simultaneously decrease the turnover rate. It isn’t his intention to demean the goodwill of the Nasha Town people, but he has a hard time believing that these things are solely fulfilled by citizens’ support.
Which brings him to a figure, a softly whispered secret from a drunk Ratnik.
Whenever the Wild Hunt is deemed too dangerous or when the situation becomes much more perilous, they always receive help from a tall figure with blazing blue fire and an ancient, unique lantern. Only the Starshyna is privy to their identity, and only he and the Sergeant Majors can contact the figure directly.
Obviously, it generates some hushed rumors. Some say that the figure is a contracted familiar of the Cryo Archon. Some think it’s actually a friendly ghost, something that’s the opposite of the Wild Hunt. Some believe it’s an agent of the Harbinger’s units, the strongest or the most trusted agent— which also means the Lightkeepers has fallen under the protection of a Harbinger and consequently receive their financial support too. After all, this sudden increase in quality of life doesn’t come out of thin air, and such a powerful figure rarely stands unaffiliated with any factions.
He’d like to believe it’s actually the latter.
Still surprising, though.
It means the fleeting, almost unheard rumor of Nod-Krai being ‘acquired’ under the ever-elusive, almost forgotten, and hardly seen Sixth Harbinger must be true. It matches the level of secrecy and tightly regulated information, but he didn’t anticipate that it would also include the supposedly independent, people-funded organization.
He both understands and does not understand the secrecy.
He understands the secrecy from the Starshyna’s point of view, but he doesn’t get what the Harbinger or its unit gets from this arrangement. There’s no public merit or achievements, and the Fatui is seen as less than Voynich Guild members and the Ratniki in Nod-Krai.
It puts a sense of unease in him.
The news and information he gets about Snezhnograd and Snezhnaya in general are hardly pleasant either. Not bad enough to warrant a cautionary heads-up, but overall things aren’t as great and as peaceful as the current Mondstadt. Some aspects kind of remind him of the old Mondstadt, with the nobles and those in high positions pressing and underrating the lower-standing people and commoners’ needs.
But at the same time, there are some notable changes— for the better.
Reports of ancient nobles returning to their positions and reassuming control, while the Harbingers also undergo several changes of players, have leveled the political climate. These ancient nobles are supposedly the cornerstones of the Royal Court and these major changes have somehow settled the previously mounting ripple of unrest within the community at large.
And just coincidentally, the Teyvat Grand Balls is also held in Snezhnaya this year.
A triennial event lasting at least a month and a half in its host nation, this gathering promotes and re-establishes friendly relations between nations and Archons. Each Archon will send some of its eligible nobles or high-standing alpha and omega as representatives of their nation. These members will mingle and attend the prepared balls, banquet, and series of activities in the host’s land. It’s highly encouraged to form diplomatic or even romantic relationships with each other too, and with such a large group for each nation, there’s a leader for the respective alpha and omega group.
For Mondstadts, it’s him - as the alpha’s and Lady Nicole - as the omega’s keeper.
As the Hexenzirkel’s witch said, he’s chosen and deployed to keep the Mondstadtian safe on foreign land and to mend the strained diplomatic relations between Mondstadt and Snezhnaya that have lasted for a couple of thousand years. Moreover, on top of these official duties, he also has—
A sudden loud, twinkling ring takes his attention away from the depth of his pondering, tuning him back to the chatter and rowdiness of his group members. At least more than half of the delegation are part of the Knights of Favonius, while the rest are regular Mondstadtians with various normal occupations, but even disciplined knights can’t resist the excitement and expectation in the air.
He smiles fondly at the youthful reactions— the possibility of meeting their mate and sightseeing in another nation while experiencing some electrifying romance is surely an exhilarating notion. Standing up, he claps his hands loudly and firmly to get his members’ attention and breaks the noise.
“Okay!” He calls. “Everyone, get ready to disembark and make sure you don’t leave anything behind. Once the train stops, alphas go to the back and omegas go to the front and stand right behind Lady Nicole. Remember the password we’ve agreed upon, and if something weird happens or you have a concern, go straight to me or Lady Nicole and, of course, still check with the password. Understood?”
“Yes, Grand Master!”
.
While he firmly believes that they should be relatively safe as the state’s guests and that they’re all adults, he’d rather not take any chance.
The central station is far more majestic than he first thought.
High-ceilinged with intricate details around the corners, the station feels roomy, and he hardly feels the cold of the snowy season even without a thick coat like his men. Lines of Fatui agents greet him as he finally steps onto the deeper part of the platform— the last of his group.
With his height, he can easily spot Nicole at the very front, seemingly conversing with a tall, dark-haired male. His curiosity is piqued when he notices a few little winged fae leave the premises from the corner of his eye, looking disgruntled as the Fatui agents quickly fill the empty positions.
Interesting.
Realizing his presence, the well-dressed man concludes his conversation with Nicole with a graceful nod before approaching him with a diplomatic smile.
‘A Harbinger, Varka.’
The quickly supplied information kickstarts a friendlier, though internally wary, smile on Varka’s face as he receives the handshake from the alpha.
“Wriothesley. Welcome to Snezhnograd, Grand Master.” The dark-haired man with an interesting streak of white hair says.
“Varka. Thank you for welcoming us, Lord Wriothesley.” He responds in tandem, a little distracted by a sense of camaraderie he feels from the other alpha.
Like a kin.
It seems that Wriothesley also shares the same thought, as the smile on the Harbinger’s face shifts ever so slightly.
“We didn’t expect someone of such a high standing to pick us up personally.” He diplomatically continues, gauging the other’s reaction as they walk to where Nicole is waiting.
“What nonsense, Grand Master.” Wriothesley responds with a light laugh. “You and your delegation are important guests of Snezhnaya and Her Majesty the Tsaritsa. It’s only natural that we come in person to escort you.”
“We’re delighted to receive such a warm welcome.” He says, noting the plural usage. “Excuse my question, but is there another—”
“Apologies for my tardiness. There are a few matters I need to straighten up.”
The deep but buttery smooth and rich as wine voice coming from behind him makes Varka turn around—
And his breath is caught in his throat.
The tall person standing behind him is exceedingly beautiful, breathtakingly so. Despite the seemingly human appearance, his guts tell him that the enchanting male— omega, is hardly one. The presence he emits is almost similar to the angel beside him, an entity that dons a human mask.
He's still utterly mesmerized by the other's striking appearance when a light wind blows to him— and by Barbatos, the scent.
Is it possible for someone to have such a pleasant and delectable scent?
“I’m the representative of the Royal Court.” The blue-haired beauty puts his hand on his chest and bows slightly. “Welcome to Snezhnaya, Grand Master.” He purrs with a charmingly wicked tilt of his lips.
The alpha in him howls at the sight, recognizing the deceptively hidden interest.
Outwardly, he remains calm.
“We are honored to receive such a warm welcome,” Varka returns the gesture with a courteous bow of his own, their eyes are locked with each other as he extends his hand towards the omega. “And to whom should I address my gratitude?”
Surprisingly, the tall omega agreeably puts his right hand on his open palm.
“Flins, Grand Master.” The Royal Court representative offers with a small but obviously pleased smile.
“Lord Flins,” He greets, politely but tenderly kissing the omega’s glove-covered knuckle. “Varka, at your service.”
In the back of his mind, he can’t help but note how the glove seems to be thicker for a mere formal outfit. If anything, it’s as thick as one would wear to wield a weapon, and he has a feeling this representative of the Royal Court is more than a mere politician.
Perhaps this international event will be more memorable than he first thought.
Flins decides, he owes Wriothesley at least a set of finely crafted teacups from Liyue for dragging him into this task. Or perhaps some of his priceless gems to be made into jewelry for the alpha’s adored chéri.
Something in him stirs as he lays his gaze on the blond man. He has just dismissed the Druzhna’s unnecessary presence when the exceptionally tall male steps onto the platform. Tall— exceptionally tall and wonderfully huge, with a roughish but clean-shaven, handsome face and a smile that would’ve put the Lighthouse’s lamp to shame, the last member of Mondstadt’s delegation has successfully stolen his entire attention.
Dear Bel— Dear Lord. What blessing did Barbatos give to his people to look that handsome and charismatic even in his silence?
He notes with interest how Wriothesley swiftly concludes his greeting to the lady, moving to the fine specimen— alpha most likely, and shaking his hands.
Then he must be the other lead representative, Varka.
Varka, the Grand Master of Mondstadt.
His big stature fits his high title, and Mondstadt is lucky in that matter, Flins thinks.
Without wasting more time, he approaches the little gathering, careful to suppress his presence— something he learned from Columbina to not catch anyone’s attention.
As he gets closer, he’s even more intrigued to find that the alpha actually towers over him. A rare occurrence, as he’s unusually tall even among the alphas, let alone the omegas in Snezhnaya.
“Apologies for my tardiness. There are a few matters I need to straighten up.” He says, announcing his presence.
The blond male naturally turns around to face him, and he consciously suppresses his scent lest it reveal his innermost thoughts. The alpha is much more handsome up close. Sharp jaw, blond hair, and a pair of enchanting blue eyes— truly like the perfect prince charming in a fairy tale book. The scar on his cheek only boosts his attractiveness as an alpha, and they have such a perfect height gap to boot.
He pointedly ignores the fleeting warmth in his chest.
“I’m the representative of the Royal Court.” Flins puts his hand on his chest and bows slightly. “Welcome to Snezhnaya, Grand Master.”
He purposefully doesn’t offer his name, wanting to gauge if the alpha would be interested enough to dig for it and knowledgeable enough about the proper etiquette—
And he doesn’t disappoint.
Their eyes are locked on each other as Varka offers his hand. “And to whom should I address my gratitude?”
Without hesitation, he places his hand on the alpha’s open palm.
“Flins, Grand Master.” He offers with a smile. In proportion to his big stature, Varka’s hand is just as big as it wonderfully and tenderly envelops his. It’s truly a miss for him to wear the glove— he can’t feel the alpha’s warmth or skin directly this way.
“Lord Flins.” Varka greets, holding his hand oh-so-gently and endearingly leaving a kiss on his knuckles. “Varka, at your service.”
Varka.
His heart somersaults in delight and excitement as the weight of the alpha’s gaze seems to chain him down— a silent promise of mutual interest and attraction. A faint scent of musk and spring, of a woody tone with notable fresh and crisp dew in the morning, also permeates his sense of smell.
He believes the alpha’s name will roll off his tongue perfectly. And that he’ll find great joy basking in the alpha’s addicting scent in his nest.
“I must say I’m impressed, Grand Master.” Flins says with a smile as he retrieves his hand, and the alpha straightens up once more. “To think Mondstadt would send such wonderful people.”
“I could say the same, Lord Flins. It’s our honor to have both you and Lord Wriothesley to pick us up.” The Grand Master responds with another grin, casting a glance towards his friend.
Ah, right. He’s on duty.
“It’s our duty to ensure the Snezhnaya’s guests remain comfortable and safe.” He remarks, pointedly ignoring the discreet, amused look Wriothesley briefly gives as he joins his friend’s side. Instead, he surreptitiously glances at Varka’s neck and hands, finding no mark on the thick neck or rings adorning the alpha’s most important fingers.
How delightful.
“Has everyone disembarked, Grand Master, Lady Nicole?” Wriothesley leads the conversation again. “If so, let us depart to your temporary abode. All of you must be quite exhausted after such a long journey.”
Flins almost jerks when he suddenly hears a thought in his head, belatedly realizing the lady’s true identity.
“Comfortable the journey might be with your assistance, it’s truly a long one indeed.” Lady Nicole speaks in his mind, while a smile is etched on her face. “Please show us the way, Lord Wriothesley.”
Amusement instantly blooms in him upon hearing the angel’s remark.
“Let us.” He nods towards the lady. “It’s an honor to allow us to lead the way, Lady Nicole.”
Wriothesley covertly gives him a questioning glance, understandably missing the joke.
“The pleasure is all mine, Lord Flins.” She answers telepathically. “It’s been a long time since I have met— ahem, I digress.”
Flins only offers a smile, unsurprised that the lady seems to understand his origin, and thankful that she stops herself in time and doesn’t expose his identity.
However, it seems that Wriothesley has a different idea, subtly putting a distance between him and Mondstadt’s omega leader by interjecting himself.
An unnecessary protective gesture, but one that he appreciates nonetheless.
“Let’s go, Lady Nicole, Grand Master.” Wriothesley pleasantly invites, gesturing to the exit with his hands. “The evening light is fantastic from your assigned palace, so let’s not miss that.”
With his eyes entirely fixated on Wriothesley’s protective gesture, Flins missed the thoughtful look the other alpha gave him.
“Okay, what was that?” Wriothesley demands as soon as they are within a very safe distance from the Mondstadt delegation’s assigned palace.
“What was what, Wriothesley?” Flins raises an amused smile.
“I can feel your excitement all the way here, Kyryll.”
“There’s hardly any distance between us in this cramped carriage, Wriothesley.”
“Playing daft, aren’t we?” The alpha scoffs. “You were grinning ear to ear.”
“I did no such thing.”
“Not until the Grand Master, Varka, showered you with his utmost attention— bending his back and kissing your hand like that. Which you allowed.” The alpha dryly points out.
The reminder revives the delight in his chest, but still he must deny. “I didn’t.” Flins drawls.
Unexpectedly, Wriothesley leans forward with a big, shit-eating grin. “Yeah, you didn’t. But you are now, so it counts as one.”
Realizing that he’s been had, Flins chuckles. “Oh my, is this the dangerous charm of Fontainian men? I should be cautious indeed.”
Wriothesley snorts as he leans back. “Anyway, I thought introducing yourself as the Royal Court’s representative is the ‘worse’ option.”
“None is pleasant, but it seemed the Grand Master noticed the last of the Druzhna leaving the line earlier,” Flins answers.
“So you compensated by saying that you’re the Royal Court representative.” Wriothesley hums. “Having two Harbingers present while the Druzhna was expelled from the premises looks bad, huh?”
“Expelled? I simply thought there was no reason for them to be there, that’s all.” Flins remarks innocently.
“Soften the blow as much as you want, but it didn’t change the fact that you kicked them out— Though you are right about it. They have no reason to be there.” Wriothesley ponders. “I’ll ask the mayor about it later. I wasn’t informed of such a thing and never heard the arrangement either during the meetings.”
“The internal coordination is a mess.” Flins hums.
“I’m pretty sure there’s more than that— But more importantly,” The alpha rests his gaze on the long-haired fae. “I hate to burst your bubble, but the Grand Master might already have a lover back in Mondstadt, Kyryll.” He says carefully. “So don’t get too invested until all’s cleared up, yeah? I’d hate to see you disappointed.”
“It wouldn’t be surprising if that’s the case, considering how fine he is.” Flins admits. “However, nothing is permanent lest one be bitten, Wriothesley.”
The dark-haired male lifts his eyebrow. “Seriously?”
“All’s fair in love and war, is it not?” Flins cocks his head to the side.
He enjoys the alpha’s flabbergasted look for another second before he chuckles. “Of course not, Wriothesley. I’m not in the habit of wrenching someone’s possession away.” He assures. “Besides…”
Flins casts his gaze towards the white plains.
“I have no desire for such commitment in the first place, let alone on such a fleeting wind, my dear friend.”
The next whirlwind of a storm comes as the sun sets on the horizon.
As Mondstadt’s delegation has just arrived earlier in the evening, they’re free to have their meals in their assigned building instead of a formal sit-down dinner— with Pulcinella briefly popping in their stead to greet the delegation. It leaves him and Wriothesley with ample free time to spare—
And allows their youngest to catch them lounging in one of the unused parlors.
“I know what you two are conspiring.”
Flins exchanges glances with Wriothesley, who puffs the whitish smoke out of his mouth.
“What are we doing exactly, kid?” Wriothesley muses.
“This.” Childe lifts the official-looking mission letter in his hand.
“Ah.” Flins nonchalantly airs.
“I’m fine. I don’t need your intervention.”
“Of course you are.” Wriothesley snorts. “You aren’t our youngest without some vicious bites of your own.”
“That’s why your attempt to spare me the trouble isn’t necessary.” Childe huffs as the omega stops right in front of their low table.
“Why am I dragged into this? It’s Flins’ order, isn’t it?” The dark-haired alpha tilts his head, feigning innocence and nipping the cigarette in his hand off with a flick of cryo.
“This thing has you all over the place.” Childe explains, “And Flins never attended the meetings. He wouldn’t have known unless you told him.”
“Alas, the mission is legit, Childe. I do need your help.” Flins interrupts with an easy smile on his face. “As much as I’d like to go myself, I am unable to since Fontaine’s delegation is going to arrive tomorrow and Wriothesley is putting me under his direct surveillance.”
Their adorable orange gives them both a disbelieving stare.
Wriothesley sighs loudly. “Look at him,” He points to Flins. “I could barely catch him in time to escort Mondstadt’s delegation. If he’s to leave for Nod-Krai, I can bet my entire collection that this guy is going to make a lot of convenience excuses to stay there until the events end. Guess who would bear the brunt of Pantalone’s scathing remarks? Us.” He says dryly. “We might need to drag him back forcefully too.”
“Dragging me? That's a little bit too much, dear Wriothesley.” Flins plays along. “I am but just an unimportant figure in the grand scheme of things our hard-working Pantalone is cooking, am I not?”
Wriothesley gives their Eleventh the do-you-hear-the-nonsense-he-spouts look.
Childe groans exasperatedly, lightly rubbing his face with both of his palms. “Pulcinella approved it, but Pantalone gave me an earful for this, you know.”
“He’s giving everyone an earful.” Wriothesley scoffs. “Unless your name starts with Z and ends with andik.”
“A personal perk indeed.”
“Actually,” Childe interjects with a grimace. “He’s in the middle of chewing Dottore out when I passed by to get you both. He’s staying in the Palace tonight, by the way.”
He and Wriothesley exchange glances once more.
“Childe, let us depart and check the supplies I need you to bring for your departure,” Flins says decisively as he stands up.
“Let me tag along. I’d like to drop a letter to the Curatorium too.” Wriothesley nods.
“Both of you are unbelievable.” Childe sighs, as he lets Wriothesley drape his arm around his shoulder.
“Now now, kid. You are as much of an accomplice as us.” Wriothesley grins. “Let’s leave before Pantalone realizes we’re all in here and assigns us more tasks to finish.”
“Can I come too?”
“Gah—!”
Wriothesley and Childe simultaneously jerk in surprise, with the alpha naturally shielding the younger male while Flins’ laughs echoing in the room.
“Columbina— How many times have I told you not to do that?” Wriothesley sighs exasperatedly, letting go of his hold on Childe.
The long-haired moon goddess only tilts her head innocently. “Many?”
“Then please adhere to it.” Wriothesley continues with a deeper sigh. “I’m just a normal human around here, you know? I only have one beating heart.”
“Dottore can fix anyone.”
“I’d rather not have him near me if possible.” Wriothesley grimaces. “He gets too curious for his own good.”
“Is that so?” Columbina hums melodiously. “Alright then, but can we leave now? Pantalone is heading this way, and he’s been scolding everyone today.”
“Shit—”
That, instantly ceases further talk and they immediately scramble out of the parlor— along with one additional member in tow.