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Mika found himself an… unexpected new responsibility, what with their expeditions traveling side by side for the time being, Varka had thought it fit to use Mika as the currier between the sides, since he was already aquainted. As such, he was running between the two to trade information on the upcoming routes, or to simply invite the other side over for dinner.
One such situation had Mika walking into the enemy camp. Heads turned towards him, but they recognized him by now, letting him nervously trot up to a high ranking looking personnel.
“H-hello. Grand Master Varka requested I shared information on the path ahead. We scouted out some upcoming terrain issues.”
“Hm.” The general replied simply. “Take it to Capitano. He requested you be sent his way next time you cross over. Training is done so he will be within his tent. Just go in.”
The general pointed him towards the large tent set in the middle of the encampment. Large enough for someone even of Capitano’s size to stand fully within it. “Oh. A-alright.”
Which is what lead him to Capitano’s tent, sitting nervously across from the man as he shared information.
Mika couldn’t help but wonder if this was part of his training, facing such a terrifying man diplomatically. It got easier though. Capitano was a beast of a fighter during training. Untouchable in terms of strength, except maybe by Varka. As such, when they were on the move, Him and Varka led the expedition by horseback, side by side.
“S-sir? Varka requested I-”
Capitano tilted his head towards him. The gaping void of the mask swallowed all light, but Mika got the impression the man was looking his way. “Sit, scout.”
Mika did so, silently reminding himself of good relations and respectful interaction. Archons, why was this his job?
“So, you came here for…?” Capitano asked. His voice was deep and smooth.
“Ah, yes. Varka requested I share.” Mika quickly handed over the mapping, which detailed the paths ahead, along with the issues with each one. “The westmost path is long, at a roughly thirty-five degree angle going through it, and the recent rain has rendered it muddy. It poses a hazard for horses. The second is over forty feet wide and the straightest shot towards progressing, but we have concerns about rock slides closing off the path. The third requires traveling a ten foot wide cliff edge during the worst of it.”
“Good to know. Our own scouts came to similar conclusions. With less detailed maps though.” He thumbed over the paper. “Does Varka wish for the soldiers to eat communally today?”
“He said nothing of it, sir.”
“Hm. You said you were fifteen when we first met, correct?”
Mika froze, Capitano had never delved into person conversation before, despite having been the designated currier between the two for a few weeks. “Well—yes. I am fifteen, sir. Soon to be sixteen.”
“Young for someone with Varka’s expedition, which has been active for years.”
“I am capable… sir.” he said, did he say that before? When they first met? Mika couldnt quite remember with all the days that’d gone by.
“Indeed. I’ve seen some of your maps when meeting with Varka. You are incredibly talented with drafting military maps. They rival ours, which are drawn by men twice your age—and stature.”
“Thank you?” Was that a compliment?
It probably was. Capitano continued, appraising Mika with a tilt of his head. “You are a good scout. Could use some meat on your bones, though. You know, in Snezhnaya, we at least try to feed our boys.”
“I—I am fed well, I promise. I am just on the skinnier side.” Mika responded, feeling an embarrassed heat rise to his cheeks.
“Hm. Boys like you freeze back home.”
“I am not too concerned with freezing currently.” Mika laughed slightly. “Natlan is quite hot.”
Capitano seemed to drop it, instead turning the conversation. “Grandmaster Varka, what is your opinion of him?”
“Well—I’m not quite sure I can answer these types of questions.”
“It is nothing of intelligence I assure you. Just a personal inquiry on the character of one of your comrades.”
“Alright then...”
“So, is your opinion of the Grandmaster?” Capitano asked.
“Grandmaster Varka?” Mika tilted his head. “Well, he’s my combat instructor so he’s taught me a lot. He’s a very good Grandmaster. He’s very…”
“Boisterous? I’ve seen such. He is a loud man. Proud to laugh. I’ve seen. He often, and with enthusiasm, invites me to a drink. He is a good conversationalist, if a little long winded.”
Mika resisted the urge to wrinkle his nose at the mention of Alcohol. “Yes. He’s—he’s a good man, really. I respect him deeply. He’s very honorable as well. There’s no one else I’d have leading us.”
“I see.”
“And of Varka, surely a man of that renown has a lover?”
What.
What.
“I mean… he has children. Two, both adopted vision holders, that are in Mondstadt, but—I suppose there are only rumors of flings. Nothing solid, definitely not official or–or public. I guess.”
“And of these flings, who has been the subject of them?”
“S-sir… this is very quickly turning to a subject I cannot talk about.” Mika bit out, flustered. What was this man playing at?
“I apologize, but ask you indulge me, scout.” The Captain dipped his head.
Oh. Oh. Mika… supposed he could help out Varka and the Captain in this regard. There couldn’t be much harm in it. “W-well… there was rumors with a admiral of similar age stature, but that was long before the expedition.”
“And what was this… admiral like?” Mika immediately deduced this question’s true intention. The Captain wanted to know the gender.
“I don’t know much about him. This was before the expedition so I was quite young. More of gossip. The admiral though I met in passing later on, he was a decorated man. But he did not join the expedition.”
Capitano seemed to have gotten what he was looking for. He dipped his head in gratitude. “Hm. Thank you. You’ve been very insightful.”
He seemed appreciative, as if what Mika had done was more than just participate in gossip. The young scout tired hard not to smile. Honestly he should get a metal of valor for this. Or maybe an acting award. Does Liyuean theatre hire Mondstadters? “N-no issue, sir. Was that everything you need?”
“Yes. You are free to return to your camp. Oh, and tell Varka we extend an invitation to him and his comrades for a joint dinner.”
Mika left that tent, struggling to maintain a straight face as he darted from the fatui camp, only breaking out into giggles as he ran back to Varka’s tent.
That night, Mika watched as Capitano chose to take a seat at the bonfire next to Varka at dinner, instead of the other way around. And when Mika had to retire to his tent, he glanced over at the near abandoned bonfire, The Captain and Varka still sitting by it long after the other’s retired.
~
“I must ask, is this a common arrangement, Grandmaster?”
Capitano asked, long after their sins had been committed, as they laid against one another. They were in Varka’s tent, Capitano having abandoned his own. Just for the night. And maybe another.
“Bedding opposing military personnel? Can’t say it is.” Varka’s laugh was soft.
Grandmaster of the country of freedom meeting with the highest commander of the goddess of love. To an outsider, it would make sense, be beautiful in a way.
To Capitano it was a slight to his goddess, equal to heresy. To Varka it was an embodiment of his ideals.
“Is that comforting, Captain?”
“How is the boy?” He asked instead of answering.
Varka knew who he was referring to. “Mika? Good. He’s back on scouting shifts and training.”
“You take a lot of care with the boy. I’ve seen you personally training him.”
“I try to pay special attention to Mondstadt’s vision holders. And the attention is good for him. He does not have many… responsible men in his life.
Capitano stayed silent, hoping Varka would elaborate despite doing so would probably be invading the boy’s privacy. He did not. Instead the man sighed.
“I have a soft spot for the boy as well. I have it for most kids.” Varka said. He was always doing that. Just admitting things. Freely. As if no one was listening. “Which is probably how I ended up with two despite not having a wife.”
This was new. “You have children?”
Varka laughed, and Capitano felt as though he had referenced a joke he hadn’t learned yet. “Some would say—they themselves change opinions on the topic. The younger of the two is Razor. I knew his parents, but they died, and the boy was raised by wolves. The lad is still half feral according to his teacher, but he wields a claymore and an electro vision…”
Capitano listened. It was another one of Varka’s long winded tangents, where he hid nothing and spoke because he loved to.
“The elder is Rosaria. She’s an adult, a nun of the church, though you’d sooner guess a vampire from her way of dress.” He gave a small laugh. “She wields a polearm and a cryptic vision. Deadly, the girl is. I didn’t even train her to be so, I left her in the care of the church hoping she’d find peace. Instead, she found it necessary to put others to peace. Pretty soon the two of them will be able to hold blades against their old man. I wouldn’t mind it.”
Capitano hummed.
“Those are only the ones who choose to call me family. There are others I’ve done my best to help raise—an old friend of mine had two sons. The red haired one…”
And Varka shamelessly fell into another tangent, detailing, with glowing pride, his children and their lives back in his homeland.
“Then there’s Mika. I’d be lying to say anything less than I see the boy similarly to Razor and Rosaria. Perhaps it’s simply because he’s been the youngest of our expedition, and I’ve had no one else to exercise what my daughter refers to as ‘empty den syndrome’ onto, but I do think of him quite fondly. He, though, has a set of parents, though—ah. I seem to have gotten off track. Yes, I have children.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Many would.” Varka responded. And then they laid in silence a moment longer.
Varka breathed like he spoke, deep, loud, and without care. Not an ounce of tension to the man. Capitano wanted to gently rest his hand around the other’s throat, just to feel the thrum of his windpipe as the other would surely laugh at the motion. It was an infatuation uncharacteristic of him. And so, once again, he distracted himself.
“Mika is young. Very. For a scout. He must have been younger when he joined the expedition, and younger then when he joined your knights.”
Varka hummed. “He was. Twelve when he started as a courier for the knights. Thirteen when he earned his vision and officially joined under one of my officers. The boy has always been flighty—uncertain. It was much worse back in the city. He’s come far.”
“I’d imagine it’d be better—what with his family nearby.”
Varka sighed, face falling into far off frustration, not directed at Capitano. “His parents have always been moving about as adventurers, and Mika found himself being raised by—or rather raising, I’d think—a much older brother with a drinking problem. The amount of times me or my men have seen the poor boy dragging his adult brother from Angel’s share is pathetic. I’d dismiss the older from the knights but I’m certain he’d just wallow at the tavern until they sold the house.”
Well. That was quite a confession. One he didn’t quite know how to respond to. “I suppose that’s why the boy always looks seasick when we pass around fire-water.”
“Indeed. It’s unfortunate but it’s simply what it is.”
“I’ve never understood how Mondstadters can leave their children about. To wander and such.”
“Our landscapes are safe, our weather temperate, and our predators few and far between. The freedom gives them strength.”
This, Capitano knew.
Snezhnaya was much the opposite. Their icy land filled with jagged edges, the weather raging and dangerous, their predators always stalking. Huddled close together and around warm hearths is what allowed them life. The love, perhaps, is what gave them their strength.
Freedom and love. Between the two of them, Capitano would offer both roles to Varka. The man was undeniably better versed in each, and when he commuted his heresy he had no duty pulling him away, no god to judge him. But, Capitano supposed, if needed, he’d take one.
Once upon a time, the Tsaritsa’s gospel and worship spoke of love. The different kinds, the magic of it, the gift of it. Once, Snezhnaya was icy cold, but warm in the ways of his goddess’ love. He remembered sermons where preachers promised them that they will fall in love, and may pursue that love under the protection and benevolence of their goddess. No matter what land they hailed from, or scars they bore. Now though, such practices were abandoned as his goddess The Tsaritsa ended such worship. Now, there was no promise of acceptance, should it be found him and Varka had courted.
He shifted to his side, propping himself up on one arm, to look Varka in his eyes. Then he planted a kiss on the man's jaw, scratchy stubble brushing against his lips. He’d take that chance. If even for the fleeting moments that their sides passed one another in their lives.
~~~