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Varka slams his fist into the wall with a frustrated sound. He’d put on a brave face for the others, did his duty as a knight, a leader. But his emotions are in turmoil. He is furious with himself, with the injustice of this world, with that bastard Dottore. Varka has never felt as vulnerable, as unprepared as he does right now. To think there is a monster out there who can just freeze him in place. Not only him, but Arlecchino, Flins, Lauma, nearly all of their allies. Despite what he’d said to the others, the fight ahead feels impossible. And they don’t even know if Columbina is still alive.
He drives his other fist into the wall, gritting his teeth against the pain. Both blows have left slight dents in the metal and he cannot bring himself to care. His knuckles are smarting as he pulls his arm back for another blow. But then there’s a gentle hand on his shoulder and he stills. Varka knows who it is without turning around. There’s only one person who can sneak up on him, after all. Most people aren’t bold enough to even try, but then, Flins has always been an exception.
Varka lets his shoulders slump in defeat and he leans his forehead against the wall. Flins wraps his arms around Varka’s waist, pressing himself into the knight’s back and tucking his face between his shoulderblades. They don’t say anything for a moment, just taking comfort in the other’s proximity. Varka rests his arms atop Flins’ and twines their fingers together. When he’d booked a room for Moon Prayer Night at the Flagship, this was not how he’d intended to spend his time alone with Flins. But fate doesn’t care for his desires, it never has.
Finally, Flins asks quietly, “Would you care to talk about it?”
Varka can’t help the surge of affection that pulses through him at those words. They’re so very Flins. Not assuming, not demanding, just gentle and inquisitive. A clear message that Flins is here to support him, but he will not pry. Varka will never understand how Flins always knows exactly what he needs to hear, even if he himself doesn’t realize what he needs.
“No,” Varka says finally, gruffly, “Not really. It’s nothing you don’t already know.”
Flins hums contemplatively and murmurs, “Just because I am already aware of your thoughts does not mean it would not help you to speak of them.”
A reluctant smile tugs at Varka’s mouth and he turns in Flins’ arms to pull the other man against his chest, cupping the back of Flins’ head. Varka presses his lips to the fae’s temple and admits, “I’d rather spend my time with you in other ways.”
Flins chuckles fondly, but he is not so easily dissuaded from ensuring Varka’s wellbeing. Pressing a kiss to Varka’s cheek, Flins whispers, “I hope you do not think I am unaware you are changing the subject. As enticing as your suggestion may be, I am more concerned with those thoughts of yours. I would never force you to speak of them, but I implore you, if talking will help, please allow me to listen.”
Varka sighs, resting his forehead against Flins’, and confesses bitterly, “I feel like a failure.”
Flins’ brow furrows and he opens his mouth to refute that, but Varka continues in a tired voice, “I should have seen this coming. I should have gone with them to see Columbina off. If I had been closer, maybe-”
“Varka,” Flins chides gently, cupping Varka’s face in his palms, “This was not any fault of yours. No one could have predicted this outcome and even you cannot defeat a foe that can halt time in its tracks.”
“That doesn’t change how I feel.”
Flins sighs, rubbing his thumb across Varka’s cheekbone. Varka’s eyes threaten to slip closed at the comforting sensation, but he doesn’t want to look away from that beautiful, golden gaze.
“You do not have to take every burden upon your shoulders alone,” Flins whispers, “No man, however strong, however brave, however capable, is infallible or indestructible. It terrifies me to hear you speak this way. I cannot help but worry that you will one day throw your life away in some reckless gambit to save everyone in the world except yourself.”
Varka smiles slightly, “If it would truly save the world, save those I love, I would do it without hesitation.”
It’s clearly the wrong thing to say. Flins’ face crumples, an agony so profound haunting his features that it nearly stops Varka’s heart. Flins looks at Varka with raw misery for a moment before seeming to realize the expression he wears. He attempts to school his face back into its usual placid smile, but he can’t quite manage it. Grimacing slightly, Flins moves to turn away from Varka, but Varka is having none of it.
“Flins?” He asks worriedly, cradling Flins’ face in his palms to stop him from hiding, “Talk to me, love. Please?”
“I…” Flins’ voice chokes off and Varka’s stomach drops as he realizes the other man is crying. Varka has never seen Flins cry. He hadn’t even been sure Flins could cry. But silent, silver tears streak down the planes of Flins’ beautiful, pale face as he tries to turn away from Varka again.
“I’m sorry,” Varka rasps, pulling Flins in once more. Varka cups the back of the fae’s head with his palm and tucks Flins’ face against the crook of his neck. He makes soothing hushing noises while his free hand rubs small circles on Flins’ back, keeping him close.
Flins clings to Varka desperately, a sob finally escaping him as he whispers, “I cannot lose you like this. I cannot bear it. It pains me beyond measure to hear you value your own life so lowly when you have brought such light and joy to mine.”
“Flins…”
“Time will take you from me one day, I know, but please, I implore you, do not hasten your departure from me. Do not be so quick to throw your life away,” Flins’ voice is breaking under the weight of his words, a desperation echoing through them that Varka has never heard from Flins before, “You do not understand how deeply it terrifies me to hear you speak as such. I have heard others express similar sentiments long ago and their losses were most devastating to me. Please do not force me to go through that again, I beg of you. My heart cannot take it.”
“Hey, hey,” Varka whispers into Flins’ hair, “I assure you, I am in no hurry to leave you. Odds are you’ll be sick of me long before I go.”
This draws a weak chuckle from the Ratnik, who shakes his head and murmurs fondly, “Impossible.”
Varka grasps Flins’ chin and tips his face up so he can see Flins’ eyes as he promises, “I love you, Flins, with all that I am. I will not leave you unless I must, and even then, I will love you still.”
“And I love you, dearest Varka. This ancient heart is yours to do with as you will,” Flins manages a small, tired smile, tear tracks still shimmering on his cheeks.
Varka gently wipes the tears away and presses a kiss to each of Flins’ cheeks, and then the tip of his nose, for good measure.
With a watery laugh, Flins admits, “Forgive me, it was my intention as I followed you in here to offer comfort, not seek it.”
Varka feels the corner of his mouth twitch as he replies, “I don’t see any reason why you can’t do both.”
Flins hums in agreement, resting his forehead against Varka’s and closing his eyes.
They stay that way a moment, basking in each other’s nearness, until Varka sighs, “This was not how I was hoping we’d spend the evening. But after what happened…”
“Tonight calls for the comfort and peace of holding our loved ones close,” Flins finishes softly, pressing a kiss to Varka’s cheek.
“Yeah,” Varka agrees, brushing his lips against Flins’, “Somethin’ like that.”
Flins smiles up at him, and Varka realizes that while he still feels guilty, furious, and unprepared, all of that has faded like static in the back of his mind.
“Thank you,” he whispers, kissing Flins again.
Flins tilts his head curiously, “Whatever for?”
“For everything,” Varka murmurs, pulling him close, “Just…everything.”